Twitterings

I like social media. It helps me to keep up with family. Sometimes, I’m blindsided by some family crisis that someone forgot to tell me. So it’s handy. I don’t play games or answer questions or do causes. My causes and charities are my own. But overall, it can be fun, especially when others talk about their days, and you find that your life is pretty normal after all.

Lately, some changes have prompted friends to try other social media sites, and the birdy one comes up as being the most endorsed.

It’s a challenge to limit what you say to no more than 140 characters. But once you overcome that, it seems pretty easy to be brief. But, I don’t think it’s for me. A friend of mine asked when I was going to get an account. I replied that brevity was the soul of wit….

….and I have no soul… 😉

 

Random Comments

XBradTC over at Bring the Heat, Bring the Stupid had a funny post of random thoughts. I thought I would take his cue and post some of mine, since I seem to be running very late this morning.

I don’t understand the need for multiple ear piercings. Makes me want to hang chains from each one.

Vienna sausages should come packaged in slightly bigger cans. I don’t want to fight with the can for food.

There is a certain satisfaction I get when I organize the Tupperware cabinet. It only lasts five minutes before it gets ruined, though.

One can never have too many knives or cooks in the kitchen. Conversely, one can have too many vultures sampling the delights.

I don’t get why HD and big screen TVs are a must in the house. I live with it, but don’t get it.

I don’t understand why a recipe calls for 1 cup of broth, but the broth comes in 14.5 oz cans.

Tomato paste that comes in a sealable tube is a must for every kitchen.

Toothpaste seems to be coming out in colors, instead of flavors. So is Gatorade™.

Ok, that’s enough from me for one day. Y’all have a good one!

Watching My Tongue

I hate, hate, HATE censoring anything. It goes against everything I believe in. But sometimes, even innocent things can come back and bite you in the hindquarters.

Eldest was having a tough time with her Physics homework last night. Son is a wiz when it comes to that, so he decided to help her. While he was explaining to her things like velocity and acceleration and a tree that apparently a car hit, she sighed and said, “This is why I don’t like Physics.”

Whereupon the Sage of Casa de Aggie says this:

“You don’t have to like it. You have to conquer it! You have to drive a stake through it’s heart and pluck it from it’s chest and eat it while it’s still beating! That’s what you have to do to physics! You have to make it your little–well, you know what I’m saying.”

I have to admit, that was pretty cool of me to say. And I did manage to censor myself before I said something totally inappropriate in front of the kids. Still, I had gained some coolage brownie points with my kids, who usually see me as a fuddy duddy, stuffy old bat.

Yesirree Bob, I was cool!!

Cool enough for my Eldest to put that on her status at Facebook. GAH!!!

I hope no one judges me too harshly. Coolage brownie points still count for something!

It’s the Little Things

Last night I had to make an emergency run to the grocery store because I had just run out of milk. I don’t know what it is with the kids, but lately they have been drinking milk like it’s going out of style. I had also run out of creamer for my coffee this morning, but since I use milk when I’m out, I hadn’t thought to get more. Well, that was shot, so of course I had to go to the store for sure! Anyway, after fighting with the fridge rack to let go of the last bottle of non-fat hazelnut (I give up fats, not sugars. I’m not stupid), I start walking to the front of the store to pay for my foodstuffs when I saw this:

I do ♥ me some Shiner, and I do enjoy their seasonals. Well, it is October, so I figure this is a sign. Beer is food, right? I thought so. So, I grab a six pack, and finally come to the register to check out, and surprisingly, the gentleman asks to see my ID. Well, ok… I show him my ID, and he proceeds to ring up the rest of the groceries. And then I see this:

Did you read that?? “Appearing under the age of 40″!!!! He carded me because I LOOK YOUNGER THAN 40!!!!

WINNING!!!!

Old Habits Die Hard

Goodness, there are so many, aren’t there? No matter how much logic or how many facts you learn to help you break them, you just can’t seem to let go.

For example, yesterday we went to the mall. On the drive there, I glance at my side mirror and see that Little One has her fingers, (not her arm or her hand, mind you), out her window. Naturally, visions of her entire arm getting snagged into a tree and being ripped off come to mind, and I proceed to freak out and scream at her to PUT HER ARM INSIDE THE CAR!!!! Why did I have that vision, you may ask? Well, when I was young, still living in Puerto Rico, my dad would take us for a drive or to visit relatives, and of course, the windows would be down. That meant, of course, that my sisters and I would fight over the window seats, which in turn would mean the one who got the seat could stick her arm out the window and feel like she was flying like Superman (No, I had never heard of Supergirl at that time. Besides, who cares??). Needless to say, my mom would yell at us to put our arms back in the car, and one day, we got the nerve up to actually ask why.

And then, my dad spoke. It’s one thing to have my mom tell us a fantastical story. We would question her endlessly with why. But when our father spoke, it was gospel. No one questioned it. NO ONE!!

So, imagine our surprise when my sister (the gutsy one) asked my mom why we couldn’t have our arms out the windows, and my father proceeded to explain:

“Your arm can get snagged on a tree branch or a bush, and get ripped off, leaving you with only one arm, and nowhere to put your purse when you grow up.”

Not just the words, but the chilling delivery of that pronouncement underlined in triplicate the veracity of that statement. Never again did I put my hand out the window. NEVER AGAIN!!!

I’m sure I have other quirks laying in wait to surface when one of my kids pull some idiotic stunt. Until then,I shall try to cut my caffeine intake and try to relax over things I can’t control…

Yeah, I’m laughing at that, too 😉

Sunday Sithy

Last night’s sleepover totally wiped me out. Those girls were up until past midnight, then got up again to eat chips and sodas. I hope their parents don’t hate me.

So, since I lack any coherence whatsoever, I leave y’all with a Sithy Thing.

A SITH ARMY KNIFE!!!

I want one like burning!!

Enjoy your Sunday!!

Flowing Like a River

I woke up in tears today. My baby is growing up way too fast for my liking. Today she celebrates her 12th birthday. That’s in calendar years. If we were going by attitude and experience, she would be 40.

I’m also crying because I had forgotten that Eldest and Son would be going on an ROTC trip. So I shall be handling footie massages and facials and manicures for a bunch of squealing girls on my own. But it’s her day, and Little One is sure pulling her weight around the house, so I can’t complain too much.

Time flows like a river, as do tears of joy 🙂

Diva on Hold

Like every woman, I have an inner diva. She is bedecked in baubles, and frilly frocks, and pretty shoes, all the time. Even in bed. This diva rarely comes out. Maybe once a year for the Holiday Ball, and perhaps on days when I am making a casserole for dinner and baking a cake for dessert. I do wear my pretty aprons and pretty shoes and pretty jewelry then. Ok, I wear pretty jewelry to do laundry. I seldom go out, so I have to wear it when I can. Some of you do it too, I bet.

The dream....

Anyway, I had to put The Diva on hold again. The first time was with Eldest. She needed a long evening gown with a “tail”, for a runway show. We searched high and low, and finally found a divine creation that fit her well. A divine creation by Badgley Mischka. Now, on my List of Things to Do Before I Die™, I have this at #53: own a gown by Badgley Mischka. But who gets one before I do?? Yeah, I let it go after a few months minutes.

I thought the designer stuff was over with, since Eldest is pretty good about keeping to off-the-rack and vintage stuff. But of course, I have three children. And this time, my son was in need. His orchestral attire consists of a black suit. Now, for some people this is easy peasy. But he is so tall and thin, I finally had to resort to going to a men’s store, where the suit and pants could be tailored to fit. We find one that is close enough to his size to need only a few alterations. A suit by Michael Kors.

It’s like the Universe was laughing at me.

But like any good mom, we do what’s best for our children. Designer clothing isn’t the norm for my kids, but sometimes one has to make exceptions. In both cases, I either had earned discounts or the item was on clearance, so that helped tremendously. Still, my wish for a Diva outing has to stay on hold for a while.

And the reality...

Besides, the Reality is soooo much more comfortable 😉

A Fine Romance

We are all raised to believe that a romance is when a guy posing as a prince comes to rescue a girl posing as a damsel in distress. She weeps in helplessness, he comes in and finds a way to rescue her from whatever malaise she suffers, and they ride off into the sunset, happily ever after.

What horsepuckey!!

Yes, I said it. HORSEPUCKEY!!!

Don’t get me wrong. I read trashy bodice-ripper novels all the time. They make excellent bathtub reading material, and help to keep me sane by giving me some much needed brain candy. But I know Real Life™ doesn’t work that way. A true romance has pitfalls, and anger, and sadness, and joy, and laughter, and misunderstandings, and things that make you go “Hmm….”. Real romance may have flowers and candy sometimes, but more often than not, it has oil changes and beer. Sometimes it has jewelry, but more than likely it will have an installed dishwasher.

True romance is about knowing each other, and still wanting to be with each other, warts and all 🙂

Here I Go Again…

Time again for a birthday party. Yay, me…

This time, it’s for Little One. She is….more picky. At first, she wanted a zombie party, complete with a tombstone shaped cake. Two days later, she changed her mind. She wanted a masquerade party: costumes, masks, the works. Three days after that, she wanted a spa party sleepover. It’s crunch time, so I’m planning for the spa party. A sleepover spa party….

I shall be the manicurist and facial expert, and Eldest is slated to be the hair stylist and masseuse. Cucumbers will be sliced and cooled, ready to go on puffy eyes once I have applied a fruit masque. While that dries, I shall be giving each girl a quick manicure, while Eldest gives footsie massages to tired toes. And once all the gunk is washed off, we shall enjoy birthday cupcakes!!

In the morning, we shall be having pancakes, do some last minute pampering and hair styling, and then the girls will leave with their very own little spa kit. Thank goodness for Bath and Body Works™.

In the afternoon, I shall be breaking in my new wine glass 😉