Things I've Learned the Hard Way

1. If you tell a mental patient that your computer has "a mind of it's own," they will believe you.

2. If you go in for a job interview at a doctor's office and the interviewer tells you they specialize in mental health, run, do not walk, out the door.

3. Most people, when they ask how you're doing, really don't want to hear about all the reasons you're having a crappy day. Yes, folks, we have therapists for that.

4. When you normally blog about everyday, mundane life, a blog about politics can fall right on it's well-meaning face.

5. When grandma calls you "dear heart," what she really means is "you moron." (Or in the South, "bless your heart" means "you're related to me so I can't call you stupid but that doesn't mean I don't want to give you a nice kick in the pants.")

6. If you tell someone you don't have kids, they will regale you with horror stories of their 72 hour labor, the 400 stitches they needed after it and the little hellions their children have become. Yes, even a perfect stranger will come up with the most intimate details to lovingly impart to you.

7. When you teach Sunday School to young children, please be prepared. They will come up with interesting questions that you'll have to answer in a true and yet tactful way. Examples, you ask? A seven year old once asked me what Potiphar's wife wanted Joseph to do that was so bad. (The answer is to go to bed with her. My response? "Well, she wanted him to do something really bad that Joseph knew was really bad and so he ran away so quick he left his clothes behind!" And so now, instead of them thinking about Joseph committing adultery, they're thinking about him running away naked. Good job, Sarah!)

Wow, I could go on and on. Maybe there'll be a part two.

And now, a picture to give you nightmares:



Scared?

Nervous!

I've literally been a ball of nerves for a little while now. This coming election is going to be a doozy. I can sense riots and suicides in our future.

Ron Paul, where have you gone?

Doesn't he just look like somebody's grandpa? Dontcha just want to write his name in on your ballot?

I'm really just tired of the childishness and "no I didn't, yes you did, no I didn't" feel of this election year.

AND, one of the doctors I work for keeps asking me if I "woted" yet. Yeah, he has a problem with those darn v sounds. If I don't wote, I'll never hear the end of it. How's it's my "civic duty" and my "responsibility as an American citizen." What if I just don't like the two losers running? Huh!? How about that, Dr?

Ok, so that was a little childish. Somebody help me out. Who is the lesser of two evils? Who should I pick?

Lest my husband disown me...

...here is a tribute to his new obsession, Chuck. Clicky, and you can watch whole episodes for free!

Chuck is a nerd. No, really, he even works at the "Nerd Herd." At the "Buy More" which is a shameless parody of Best Buy. One day, his former college roommate sends him an email containing super secret government, um, secrets. Somehow, due to Chuck's awesome nerdiness, they get imprinted onto his brain. Now, whenever he sees someone who's involved in government work, he "flashes." In other words, he knows everything about them that makes them a baddie.

Casey (also known as the traitor from The Patriot) and Sarah are government agents assigned to protect Chuck and to catch any baddies he "flashes" on. Sounds a little weird when I put it like that, but ah well.
Chuck lives with his sister, Ellie and her boyfriend, Captain Awesome, who are both doctors. They know nothing about Chuck and his super secret nerdiness. Sarah poses as his girlfriend and Casey as a salesman at the Buy More. What's this? Sarah is slowly realizing she may have real, live feelings for Chuck?! How will this be resolved?! Will Chuck and Sarah find romantic happiness? Don't you want to watch and see???

Oh, and there are lovely bits of eye candy in each and every episode. Steve and I are to the point where we call out "Money Shot!" every time someone shows their undies or their masculine, chiseled chest. Sigh.

Steven is concerned that the ratings are down for this show. He knows that if ratings don't do well, shows get canceled. Please, oh please won't you watch an episode or two? If Steven loses this obsession, he might notice the messy house or that the toilets haven't been scrubbed in a coon's age.

Happy Birthday to Alex and Philip!!!

Since my nephew, Alex, and my brother, Philip, have back to back birthdays, they get to share a post. How exciting!

When Philip was just a mere sprout, he asked God for a baby brother, a baby sister, or a baby baby. God answered his prayer with me! Isn't God great?

The best thing about Philip? No matter how old I get, he'll always be older. HA!

Ok, really.

He's great at Monopoly. I have never, no not ever, beaten him.

He's a good father. He is completely devoted to his family. I never would have imagined him as a family man, but he just fits the mold. I was looking for a picture of him by himself for this post, and every photo I have of him he's surrounded by his kids, wife, nephews, family, or dog.

Unfortunately, his face looks like a butt. Which is additionally unfortunate, because I look quite a bit like him.

And happy birthday, Alex for tomorrow! Alex is a little sweetie. He's my nephew, three years old tomorrow, born to Adrian and Patti and loved by all. He's a little miracle. There were times, especially when he was a newborn, that we were very concerned about his health. I'm sure if everybody I know had not been praying for him, he would not be the sweet, bright and great kid he is today.

Happy birthday to you both, and I love you and will see you soon!!!

***The first picture is entitled "Salmon Faces" and features Philip and his lovely daughter, Hannah.***

Happy Birthday to ME!

Or should I say "Mii?" I'd like to introduce you all to my mii. Her name is Sarah, too.
I've wanted a Wii Fit since, I don't know, nineteen tickety two at least. Everywhere we'd look it'd be the same story. "We're sold out and we have no idea when we can expect more." My dear mom-in-law, Karen, sent me money to purchase a Wii Fit for my birthday. I thought, "Hmm, nice thought but I'll never get one." HA! A new GameStop opened up near my house, Steven and I went in to browse and low and behold, a Wii Fit miraculously made it's merry way into our hands (we, of course paid for it first and thanked the young salesman profusely). I think I made his day with my little hyperventilating "woohoo" dance.

So now, we exercise, not to lose weight or to feel better, but to compete with one another! Here, my mii is giving Steven's mii a peptalk. See how much lower my BMI is than his??? Bwahahaha! (Steven is not amused, as you can see.)

You get yoga (but without all the weird meditation stuff), strength training, nifty step exercises, balance correction exercises (like ultimate hula hooping and tightrope walking) and games, too!

On another note, here is my mii family. Yes, my entire family are miis, even the babies. Please excuse the quality of these pictures as I had to take photographs of my tv screen. I don't know how else to do it. Ah well. Flat Stanley's in there, too, can you find him?

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In other news, we need a new transmission. We have walked all over Memphis in search of a good mechanic (this means one who isn't going to make us give up our firstborn child in exchange for reliable service). Though this is great for exercise, it's a little scary, and *poof* there goes our savings.

Oh, bother.

In case you can't see the detail here, that is Steven, holding up a Cheeto to a ravenous seagull.

My family has a thing about camping. For as long as I can remember, we have been campers. My old grandma, my youngest sister in diapers, we have just always loved to camp.

We especially flock to Northern Michigan, where you are always just a short drive to the beach and lighthouses and MACKINAC. That's pronounced "Mackinaw." Yes, I know the second "c" makes no sense. Just go with it, ok? Mackinac is an island and fudge and a bridge (also called "The Mighty Mac") and a bit of a tourist trap but if I had to pick a place to spend my retirement (a mere 37 years away), that would be it.

This is Nick's first trip over the Mackinac Bridge. See the joy Mackinac can bring?

I started this post to just write about that first picture, which is a time when we were enjoying pasties in a park just off Lake Michigan and Steven decided to feed the seagulls (even though it was clearly posted NOT to feed the seagulls) and Nick announced to the family, "You know that's technically illegal" and sent my family into hysterics.

Though my intentions were pure, this post is once again edging towards that happy place where the majority of my writing has gone lately, the place where I say I MISS MICHIGAN! The south is ok but it's just not home. I apologize. Once the new year begins, I should have my fix in for a while.

Where I'm From

WHERE I'M FROM

I am from elves capering on the wall, from Vernors and automobiles and cobbled streets.

I am from the pages of countless books, the scent of libraries, a hundred campfires.

I am from Mom's lilacs, the fragrance of every flower imaginable.

I am from straight backs and wide hips, from Kennedy and Crump and Gudschinsky.

I am from the rough and rowdy and loud.

From love and hugs and bedtime stories told with fervor.

I am from strong faith. From folks who are at church whenever the doors are open.

I'm from Scotland and Germany and Poland, from baked chicken and homemade ice cream.

From the missionary, the cattle thief, and the soldier.

I am from the memories hidden in my grandma's room, the stories she told, the history in my mother's mind, the places my father has walked.

I borrowed this idea from Nature Nut. Click here to make your own.

How about you?

quirk - \ˈkwərk\ - 1 a: an abrupt twist or curve b: a peculiar trait : idiosyncrasy c: accident , vagary ie:a quirk of fate

I asked Steven what I should blog about and he said "How bout our little quirks, like how we have to sleep with a fan on." This is all well and good, but MY quirks are a little more quirky than that.

1. I check under my bed every night before I go to sleep. I have no idea what I would do if something or somebody was actually under there peeking out at me while I'm in the most vulnerable position possible, kneeling on the floor with my butt up in the air.

2. I also check in the closet for boogity men (or boogity women, for that matter) before bed. When I enter the closet, I give the door a good shove to ensure injury of any intruders.

3. I cannot abide open doors. Unless I'm in a room, and then I can't stand being shut in. I know this makes no sense to the average reader, but in my quirky brain, it makes perfect sense. (This is due to a scary story told by my cousin, Jeff. Hmm, maybe it's good enough for Scribbit's Ghost Story Contest. Then again, maybe not. We'll see)

4. (with apologies to any family members who may be reading) I can swap spit by the bucketful with Steven with no problem, but the second he takes a sip out of my waterglass, it becomes his. His amoebas have tainted it and it is, therefore, undrinkable.

5. I can kiss and love and cuddle and, I don't know, lick a dog or cat, but I can't bring myself to shake hands with a stranger. No offense, but you probably have cooties.

I know I'm not alone. What makes YOU weird???

Thanksgiving Comes First

Today, after the most nerve-wracking, mind numbing day possible, I headed home for some much needed rest and relaxation. Cruising through Memphis, windows open, cool breeze blowing, a great song on the radio and my day is fading behind me when I see it. A monstrosity of a billboard in red and green. CHRISTMAS advertising. In October! The BEGINNING of October! What happened to Thanksgiving? What is wrong with people? Ok, before I get off on a serious rant, let's focus for a minute.

Whether you're a Christian or not; whether you celebrate Winter Soltice, Kwanzaa or Festivus, Christmas was originally meant to celebrate the birth of Jesus. How in the world did we get to the point where we receive gifts on another person's birthday in the first place? Thank God that in the last few years, I've been saved from ultimate Scrooge-dom by the association of Christmas with my annual trip to Michigan to visit the family.

With the absurdity of gift giving aside, don't you feel taken advantage of when you start hearing the commercials and seeing the holiday merchandise in the stores so early? You know you're going to buy gifts for your family and friends and you may even decorate your home, so why do we need it shoved in our faces when Fall has barely even begun? As my dad is fond of quoting, "Love of money is the root of all evil." Advertisers want to take every opportunity they can to panic us in to a shopping frenzy. 84 days til Christmas?! Whatever shall I do???

This year, make an effort to give your hard-earned bucks to retailers who show a little restraint and wait til we've digested our Thanksgiving turkeys before breaking out the Tickle Me Elmos. Take a cue from Suldog and blog about it, or even write letters to your local paper telling them how you feel. It's a small thing, but one that could possibly save us all a little stress.

A New Presidential Candidate...

I dislike politics, so I'll refrain from mentioning them too much in this blog, except for this one little post. Since both of the major candidates leave a lot to be desired, I've come up with a new choice:

Sarah's Dad for President! Ooh, and I've got the best running mate for him! Sarah's Uncle John for Vice-President!

That's right folks, not only are they handsome and brothers and men of character, but they're KENNEDYS!!!

And when the other guys do all the research for the mud-slinging, the worst thing they'll come up with is that my Dad wore black socks with white pants. To his wedding. Which is pretty bad, but still forgivable. Unless you're his wife.

What more could you ask?

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Also, I have a new most hated "word." Guesstimate. I am utterly appalled that it didn't show up with a wavy red line when I just typed it. Which means that some cretin decided to add it to the dictionary, which is why there is insanity in this world (mine), and why it never seems to get any better. Guesstimate.

I guess the mud-slingers could use me as my family's dirty laundry. I'd have to quit blogging. Hmmm. Or maybe I could just become anonymous.