Wordless Wednesday: Cousin Katie's Super Heroes

My cousin Katie's baby is Spiderman.

 

She is expecting baby #2.

 Will it be:

a boy?

or

a girl? 

Either way, the baby will be super!

#GBE2: Breathless or Breathmore?

What in life has left you breathless? If something did leave you breathless, wouldn't you be, uh, like dead? Living folks are certainly NOT breathless.

I can think of a few situations in which I've left one breathless. Years ago, I took a physiology class where many poor frogs' brains got scrambled by my lab partners. I never pithed a frog because I couldn't bring myself to turn a living creature into a vegetable. As awful as it was for those poor amphibians, one science experiment has stayed with me forever. It left the creature breathless.

Flat Frog Lungs

After pithing the frog, we removed it's lungs and connected them to a compression unit. I believe those flat gray things on the right are lungs; however, they enlarged quadruple the size and became pinkish with a little air pushed into them. Then we'd release the air and watch them deflate leaving the little guy breathless. This, dear readers, is the only time I've left anyone breathless... unless you count the flies I've swatted or spiders I've sprayed with Windex. I'm too scared to get close enough to smash them, so Windex does more than cure pimples.

I've also made myself almost breathless from running or heavy exertion. I remember doing a runners' series years ago. As depicted in the clip below, I felt like the hippo at the end of the stampede scene from Jumanji. Tired I was, but not totally breathless or I wouldn't be writing this post.

See the fat little hippo trailing behind the fast, fit animals?                                                                                                                              

That's me on the left.

I wonder if I've ever left a reader temporarily breathless when they laughed so hard they couldn't breath. Hopefully, no one died from reading my blog. Then again, if one laughed that hard, one would eventually pass out, pee one's pants, and life would continue. Whew! Dodged that murder rap.  Death by surfing.                                                                                                                                                                                                                    Whether good or bad, shocking events make me breathmore. If someone were to stick a gun to my head, I'd hyperventilate from fear. Then maybe I'd faint, in which case I'd be breathing less than I had before, but I still wouldn't be breathless. Why did the infamous they define "breathless" as short on breath due to excitement or other strong feelings? It doesn't work that way!                                                                                                              

If I caught sight of something magnificent, like the Grand Canyon or a snow-capped mountain, once again, I think I'd go into a state of breathmore with the thrill of it all.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      

 

The English language is strange in how we define our words. Next time you see something stupendous, think about it. Does it leave you breathless or breathmore?

 

                                                                                                                                                     

Silly Sunday: Share it Maybe?

You got cookie.

Theme Thursday: Distractions

This week's topic is distractions. I'd write about it, but I must take a shower first. I think best in water anyway. This is a family friendly blog, so don't even think about looking for a shower photo.

I didn't take a shower, but I folded laundry and watched the end of "While You Were Sleeping." I love that movie! Although I've seen it bagillion times, I still tear up at the final scene. I'd finish this blog post, but I've got to go to the eye doctor and one day this week I need to pop by school and pick up my portable key. If I don't get my room together before school starts, it will be a rough beginning to the school year. Perhaps I'll even stop by Bed, Bath, and Beyond to get coffee cups for my Kerig machine. I have a 20% off coupon. It's expired, but BB&B will take any coupon no matter when the expiration date.

You know what's weird? My computer told me I'd misspelled "expiration." I tried various letter combinations before deciding to look it up. Ironically, when I typed the word into my dictionary, I suddenly knew how to spell it. Why is that? It happens all the time.

Where was I, oh yes. Contacts. I'll finish this later.

I haven't left the house. My husband called. We have an additional guest coming in August. We are housing four boys for the Maccabi event in Memphis. We originally requested four kids but had only gotten three, so an additional visitor is good news. I called his mother and sent an email.

Mitchell is coming home, so I'm not going to head out yet. I put some eggs on the stove and am making egg salad for lunch. The eggs should be about ready so I need to toast some bread. I've been meaning to chop up the celery. I guess I'll do that too.

I'm supposed to write about distractions, but I've decided that's a silly topic that I know nothing about. I have no distractions in my life.

Wordless Wednesday: Red Team Captain

Hooray for my energetic daughter who led her team to the jaws of defeat in her recent camp color wars!

 

Grrrr!

Thumbs up if you love El Captain!

Where were the male counselors who promised to show up for tug of war?

Wait until next year when the red will rise again.

It took me awhile, but I finally figured out how to do the linky thingy, so link up!

#GBE2: Educated By Big Sister

As I listen to my older sister saw logs, I am reminded of the best educational tidbits I've received, all from her. Bev and I grew up sharing an attic bedroom; however, I never snapped a picture of the slanted ceiling, yellow walls, green carpet, or gigantic window overlooking our driveway. This is why our childhood room is only in my mind and not on my blog.

Bev was notorious for talking in her sleep, thus giving me a great education and entertainment. While sleeping, she told me about being in the corner with Rusty. Mm hm. My favorite nighttime activity was the time I told her how she didn't like chocolate then listened to vehement sleep cries that she did. Then with further prompting, she begged me for the nonexistent candy bar. 

 

Bev also educated me during our waking hours. Before I entered middle school, she explained the full list of dirty words and what they meant; however, she refused to tell me the meaning of the "f word" because it was just too naughty to explain. I'm still waiting to find out.

To make sure I never rotted out my lungs with a horrid habit, Bev forced an unfiltered cigarette on me in grade school. Yep! It was nasty enough that to this day I am not a smoker.

I am currently in Dayton because her daughter just had a bridal shower. I passed a naughty bit of lingerie to Bev's daughter. This thing was given to me twenty-six years ago by guess who? ... although sister Barb was just as much to blame. I'd go into detail about it, but knowing that my daughters frequent my blog, I best not inform you about that bit of education. I am, however, happy to say that it is no longer mine.

Ahh, education. I bet you thought my post would be all about my teaching job. Psych!

Silly Sunday: Failing a Test with Dignity

I go back to my teaching job on July 30th. I'm not sure if I'm ready.

Theme Thursday: Inspiring Things

This week's Theme Thursday has given me a blog topic and an array of questions that need my wisdom. Let's give it a try, shall we?

Do you see inspiring things each day?

I'm not sure if I've seen anything inspiring today. Maybe outspiring, or whatever the opposite of that would be. I'd planned to fly to Dayton; however, just like Beth the alien traveler, we humans must also pick up headaches in Atlanta before going anywhere. The plane I was supposed to get on was running late and I was informed that I would miss my connections. So I had a choice... hmm... spend the night in a dumpy Atlanta hotel or reschedule for tomorrow. 

Am I supposed to feel inspired by that? Maybe so. I've created the best book characters from the lousiest people I've known and the worst situations too. If you ever treated me poorly, be afraid, be very afraid. And buy my book, after I talk someone into publishing it,  just to make sure you're not in it.

Do you wake up and hop out of bed then hurry to get ready to start your day?

Are you kidding me? This is summer. Why in the world would I hop out of something as delightful as my bed? If anything, I've recently stopped hopping because it sets my head spinning. Instead, I sit at the edge and wait for my blood pressure to rise enough to not get a carpet burn at the tip of my nose from keeling over. I'll leave the hopping to Kangaroo Jack. This movie was pretty bad in the stupid kind of way. I'd say it ties with Solaris. 

Even the actress fell asleep!

Have you seen Solaris? It had one funny scene. Someone asked George Clooney how a lady got on the space ship. He said, "I don't know. I just woke up and she was there."

My sister leaned into me and said, "I just woke up and she was there too." Yes, strangers, that is why we laughed hysterically in the middle of that boring movie.

What inspires you?

You do. Every time I get a comment where someone tells me I made them laugh, I am inspired to do it again. In fact, I am so inspired that I need to talk an agent into representing my book because I guarantee it will make kids laugh. After all, I've used a few of Bruce Coville's magic words in my book. "Fart." "Underwear." "Butt." Yes, folks, slap these words into kidlit and you've got an instant chuckle. If these words made you laugh too, don't admit it! 

Wordless Wednesday: I Won!

I entered a contest at Empty House, Full Mind and won this beautiful set of coasters from the Recycled Album Art Shop. I love them so much that I'm wondering who I could buy a set for.

I chose an album that I love!

They take retro albums and turn them into coaster sets which are sealed in a strong coating and placed on wooden blocks with cork pads. The edges have been sanded smooth.

Plus, I got this cool basket made from the album.

Check out their site: Recycled Album Art Shop. I had a blast browsing through their many choices of coaster sets. They also have greeting cards and other cool bowls.

I've always been a STYX fan. Now I have a cool basket and coasters from my favorite album. These are the best of times!

GBE2: Where's Beth?

Our blogging buddy Beth has chosen to remove herself from our internet world due to unknown business she must attend to. Rumor has it she's run off with Johnny Depp, who denies breaking up with his woman. Those of us who have followed Beth for awhile, know this is not what happened. 

Beth says, "Sometimes you have to step away from something in order to see it clearly," but what this really means is her Earth-like eyes must be recharged in order to allow her to continue her clear sight.

Yes, folks. The truth is out. Beth is clearly an alien, and I'm not talking about someone sneaking into the country from Mexico. I mean "alien" as in from another planet.

If you don't believe me, let's take a look at the various posts from Word Nerd Speaks. While swimming with her grand daughter Beth writes, "We peeked up over the edge of the pool, careful to avoid being seen by any humans." Why would she be scared of humans seeing her? Does water cause her to change into her greenish-yellow sixties style skin? There's clue number one about Miss Beth.

You think she's normal and I'm full of it? What about her famous expression, "Easy-peasy-lemon-squeezy." She's even written, "Hot-diggity-damn-dog" and "Zippity-Do-Da-DONE" on posts. Who uses these expressions today? Yep. Not only is she an alien, but one who studied old tapes before landing here. 

That's Beth with her grandmother. Grandma had a head of gorgeous white hair. Beth hopes hers ultimately comes in that same color. I hope hers comes in looking human-like.

Beth writes, "My sense of smell is freakishly acute." Smell is very important when visiting other planets. If she didn't have an extremely acute sense of smell, she might accidentally eat something that doesn't agree with her alien body. This is a common trait among visitors from other planets.

Does this person look human?

She even writes about how others see her. "He thinks I’m weird. In fairness to him, he’s not judging harshly. I most certainly am weird." You're not weird Beth, at least I'm sure they don't think that on your planet.

Further proof, look at the searches people use to find her blog: crazy and sexy surgeons (translation - how to look human); pouty breasts (She claims her lips were pouty. It must be hard to get everything right when imitating the human form) ; and finally "my toes" "are" "long" "ashamed" (Ditto. Other alien errors, but it's okay Beth. With your shoe wearing habit, I'm sure your toes didn't give away your alien status).

"What really matters has nothing to do with the exterior," writes Beth in bold. Well, of course. We know that exterior isn't yours anyway. So get your earthy features tuned up and come back to join us soon. What does Beth have to lose? After all, we all know the truth.

All photos were stolen from Beth's blog. Picture swiping is something she despises, so hopefully she won't zap me with her giant ray gun when she returns to our planet.

Silly Sunday: Don't Mess With Marines

Theme Thursday: Life's Uncertainties

Three things in life are certain: death, taxes, and if you eat a boatload of asparagus, your pee will stink in the morning. However, this week's Theme Thursday is not about certainties, but rather uncertainties. You know them. It's when you pass the perfume counter at the department store, see a sample and without any thought you spritz a little on your wrist. Next you know,

you smell like a dime store prostitute and that person you just interviewed with for the job you really want is headed toward you. Wait a minute, uncertainties, uncertainties, that's another certainty.

Let's try again with this topic. You find a four leaf clover, put it on the table for good luck, and you just know everything great will happen. However, you only end up with wilted leaf stains on your furniture and the same bum luck you always had. Dang! Another certainty.

Maybe this topic is talking about those things you don't expect to happen. Has anyone ever had a blow out? I did. Years ago while driving on the highway, I heard a boom and then my car bounced up and down like a kid after eating too much candy. Except unlike the child, smoke came out from under my hood instead of what comes out of a jumping toddler. It's a certainty that I'd cough over smoke or vomit, but uh oh, uncertainties.

Check out this funny website. http://www.heftyhumor.com/

This topic is hard. With my fifty years of life experiences, nothing surprises me anymore. I will die one day, I will continue to pay taxes, and don't get near my pee because I LOVE asparagus. That's a certainty. What's uncertain is when I'll die, how much I'll owe in taxes next year, and how long into my old age I will be able to control my bladder. There! Life's uncertainties. Are you satisfied?

Wordless Wednesday: Lincoln Vs.Cullen

Oh how I wish I'd photo shopped this myself. Brilliant!

GBE2: Pride Not - Pine Box, Please

I recently read an intriguing article Six Great Ways to Remind Yourself That You are Poor at http://www.cracked.com. The author, although a bit dirty, had some valid points about just how difficult it is for a young person to survive in this economy. His last point made me think about something that I believe my kids know, but I would like to reiterate this idea to them and the rest of the world. DO NOT WASTE YOUR MONEY GIVING ME AN EXPENSIVE FUNERAL!

If my loved ones were to dare bury me in the gold casket above or anything other than a plain pine box, my ghost would haunt them by screeching, "You stupid, @$$! Why did you throw money into the ground?" Let's take a step back and think about it. When one is in a state that needs a casket, do you really think the person cares what kind of box they are in? You're dead! You can't feel the cushions anyway. I want to be buried in a pine box. Then, dear children, take the money you saved from not buying a fancy, smancy funeral and enjoy a good party on me.

Money should be spent on the living, not the dead. I come by my thoughts from my dad, who was buried in a plain pine box. He used to tell us, when I kick the bucket get JC (the custodian at his store) to nail a few boards together. I feel sorry for folks who feel they have to prove to others that they loved their parents by buying the most expensive coffin at the mortuary. That's silly. Pine Box Only! That, dear children is not negotiable. It's my final wish.

 

Silly Sunday: My Living Will

Can't Stop Laughing!

My sister-in-law tells me she hardly ever goes on Facebook because she feels like it's junior high revisited. In some ways she's right, but at other times it makes me laugh hysterically. Maybe it's because I still have the maturity level of a middle schooler.  Today is one of those days as one funny events unfolded and a memory that made me laugh so hard my tummy hurt came back from something my sister posted.

Meet Kathy. She is one of my bloggy friends who hangs at The Giggling Trucker's Wife. She has a great sense of humor and writes interesting posts that always hold my attention. Truthfully with my ADD attention span, that's an accomplishment. Knowing Kathy through her site and our connections with GBE2, Writer's Post, and BBF, I've come to see her as a highly moral, respectable person. So I laughed hysterically when I visited her site to try to find her email address (which I still don't have, uh hm) and send her a private message. She's one of those people I haven't accepted as a Facebook friend because I've never actually met her, but oh, it gets harder and harder not to.

Anyway, when I didn't see her email, I clicked on her website. Wow, Kathy! I didn't know about your side business. From her porn site, she offers everything from... Oh, gosh, I can't even write the things she offers because it's too dang embarrassing. So, that's what you do when your husband's on his long trucking journeys out of town. See why I don't typically FB friend people I haven't met in person!

In Kathy's defense, she moved her blog and changed her blog's address; however, she failed to remove the domain change from her FB information page. I sure hope her mama, grandma, and dear Aunt Rosemary didn't visit her page! She'd have some explaining to do.

As for my sister, I don't know if you'd find this funny or not since it was one of those goofy kid private jokes that we probably haven't laughed about in over thirty years.

My sister posted that she's getting her first piano lesson tomorrow. Sounds innocent enough, right? I posted, "Next time I'm in Boca, I want a concert! You can play..." 

Now before I tell you what she can play, you need a little background information. In my odd but wonderful family, we had a unique word for a person's bottom. I never realized that the rest of the world did not call a butt a "tootsie." I even went to one of my favorite websites http://thesaurus.com to see if they recognized the word "tootsie" for buttocks. 

Main Entry:	buttocks [buht-uhk] /ˈbʌtək/ Show Spelled
Part of Speech:	noun
Definition:	rear
Synonyms:	back end, backside, behind, bottom, bum, butt, derriere, fanny, fundament, gluteus maximus, haunches, hindquarters, posterior, rear, rump, seat

Main Entry:	bottom
Part of Speech:	noun
Definition:	rear end
Synonyms:	backside, behind, breech, bum*, butt*, buttocks , derriere, fanny, fundament, posterior, rear, rump, seat, tail, tush

Next, I looked up "tootsie" in the Urban Dictionary. Nada! It means toes and some gross things, so I won't even supply you with a link.

So where the heck is "tootsie" in the dictionary? Doesn't anyone out their in bloggy world call a "bum" a "tootsie?" More curiously, why in the world did my family use that word for that term?


Anyhow, Barb was a flute player, and we (or I should say SHE) made up words to one of her concert pieces. It went Do do do do do do, my tootsie love you. My tootsie eats meat. And where in the world did we get meat from? I swear, we were totally innocent children singing this song and being silly. I figured you wouldn't find it funny, but thanks for sticking around anyway.

#Writer's Post: The End

Here is my response to Jenn's weekly Writer's Post topic: Endings. It's ironic how things seemed to have happened in sync with her challenge.

I just unfriended someone on Facebook. I'd say I lost a friend, but I never met the lady personally. As a rule, I don't Facebook friend people I've never met in person; however, she had once had a strong connection to an important person in my life, so I made an exception.

She had latched onto me with a tight friendship grip that felt a bit suffocating. Sending me private messages ending in "love ya" and wanting to meet us in Tunica. She even called one night. I didn't particularly want to meet up with her but would go along with it. I could have done it but could tell she isn't the sort of person I want to spend a lot of time with.

She would continually post long rambles about how awful her life is, but she's blessed to have God and who knows what else. It takes up a lot of space on a Facebook wall and is a real downer to read. I want Facebook friends who make me laugh. Sure, I'm there for a long term friend having problems, but this was too deep for someone I barely knew.

I decided I'd loosen the grip by responding to one of her Obama rants. You know what a strong Democrat I am, so I took the challenge as something fun that would maybe make her realize our differences and back off a bit. I was immediately attacked by her and her cronies. One even gave me the easy challenge of posting one link to show how Romney ever abused animals. I posted three!

Apparently I said something that she took personally. I don't get how she took my statements as a personal attack because I swear, it was never intended that way. Then again, I know mentally ill people like this. They take what you say and twist it into their own demented thoughts. Then they play victim with it. These people are caustic and I avoid them like Tea Party conventions! She went on to post messages thanking others for backing her up on how I was an awful person who'd attacked her.

So, I wrote her a private message about how I thought it best we part ways before I really said something that wasn't nice. I hate games, and she wasn't telling me how I'd attacked her personally or answering me directly anyway. She in response published my private message onto her wall, mentioned my name and my husband's name, and went into a rant about how insecure I am. We're all a bit insecure at times, but the bottom line: I just don't like dealing with this type of person.

I'd feel free if I knew I was truly rid of her but also a bit saddened knowing that in her mind I hurt her. I typically don't like to blog about anything personal (and I certainly wouldn't post how awful my life is on Facebook either), but this little emotional release is a nice leap from the usual and a perfect fit for Jenn's topic this week. Forgive the intrusion. I'll go back to being funny tomorrow.

Today, she sent me a copy of a vindictive message that she sent to my sister-in-law that repeated some things I had said and even something awful about my sister-in-law that I certainly did NOT say. She has also been sending e-mails to my husband who doesn't answer. I'm telling you, stay clear of people like this! She is trying to ruin my life, but hopefully everyone she contacts knows how crazy she is. I hate to do it, but with her out there, I am changing my settings to approval mode on comments. Ugh!

As a side note, I could post her name, photo, etc. etc. but I don't work that way. I blocked her from my Facebook account and hope she steers clear from my blog because if she doesn't, she's in for a rude awakening.

Wordless Wednesday: Potato Salad & Men with Plungers

(Wednesday comes earlier and earlier every week. Okay, I'll join your hops!)

I make a mean potato salad. 

After my last post declaring me as a foodie blog, here is a recipe from my cookbook.

I'm not kidding about the man with the plunger. I clog up the sink every darn time I make this dish. ☺

Sorry ladies, this man with a plunger is mine!

#GBE2: Strength

Strength, if only. How many times have I struggled with those darn pickle jars only to have my husband swoop in and open them with a single twist? I've eaten spinach for years, but I'm starting to wonder if some well meaning adult made up this strength bull just to get kids to eat healthy. The only folks I ever saw get strong from eating spinach are Pop Eye and Gilligan. Remember when he found the crate of radio active vegetable seeds? What a great show!

Since I'm a doubting Moses (Doubting Thomas comes from Christianity, so I can't claim him), I did a little spinach research. Back in the late nineteenth century, some doctor put a decimal point in the wrong spot when writing down the iron content of spinach. Everyone believed his bogus document thinking that spinach had ten times the iron content than what it actually had. Like, no one questioned it? 

Wee! Playing with decimals could be fun. 

Friend:   How fast were you going?

Moi:        750 MPH.

Friend:  How much weight have you lost?

Moi:       230 pounds.

Friend:  How old are you?

Moi:       Five.

The last one might be believable, but the one about spinach? I guess if the right person says it, folks will believe anything. Just look at what people swallow from politicians.

But back to spinach: 

I knows it! I knows it!

No one found the mistake until 1937! By then, it was too late. People bought into the myth about spinach making you strong.

It may not make you strong, but there are nutrients in spinach so it's not a bad thing to eat; however, forget that gross canned stuff that Pop Eye dumps down his throat. Give yourself a real treat with fresh (or frozen) spinach leaves, garlic, pepper, Parmesan and Mozzarella cheeses. Top with paprika and nuke in the microwave. 

I didn't cook this, but it looks yum!

Hey look! Last week I had a political blog, now I've got a foodie blog! This will drive Reg nuts, if that boy ever comes back. Teehee.

If you cook my spinach, and eat it, you'll be getting iron and magnesium which is helpful for healthy muscle growth. Plus, it's good for your heart and doesn't make you fart. 

Sorry about the fart comment, but what did you expect from someone who is five.♡

Silly Sunday: Uranus

I got "wind" that Camp Sabra has discovered my blog. Well, kiddos, here's one just for you!