This afternoon I went out to the store. When I came back, I sat down at my computer. I clicked on the “Start” button. Nothing happened. I tried clicking on my desktop icons. Zip. I moved my mouse over to the side of the computer screen and a second task bar came into view. I stare at it, puzzled, thinking, “Okay, my new computer is posessed.” I try restarting it to see if that’ll restore things back to the way they should be. Still nothing. I hear chuckling coming from the living room.
“Hey, Mom, did you try using your computer?” I hear my darling son call out.
“What did you do! Fix it right now!”
It seems the boy took a screen shot of my desktop. He then set that as the background, moved my task bar & deleted all my desktop icons. Apparently I am going to need to log out any time I am not home. Is this what they teach at the seminary – how to pull practical jokes on your mother??
About an hour ago, he was watching Theresa hobble up the stairs. He asked her what was wrong because she seemed to be in more pain than usual. “I fell down the stairs and hurt the same ankle that I already have tendinitis in.” (& for which she is going to physical therapy for, by the way)
“Oh, did Mom push you down the stairs again?”
Do you see what I have to put up with around here?
Today I took a trip out to the local warehouse shopping center and came back with this:
Thus far, the count is at 70. We will probably need about double that.
My darling daughter, who is a year shy of legal age, wants to play bartender at the party. “Give me some recipes & I can whip up Pina Coladas & Strawberry Daiquiris. How hard can it be?” Personally I’m not sure we’ll go much beyond the beer and wine.
So now here’s a question for you. (Yeah, that’s right – reader participation!) If you were at a party and having dessert, which would you rather have? A sheet cake or a bunch of different things so you have a choice?
In spite of what Theresa wanted me to get, I am not getting those ice tube thingies so that the little ones will be blue & orange and there will be little plastic things all over my yard.
Don’t worry. I’m not asking for audience participation here. It was a revelation to me; the reason why I didn’t like attending Mass at my cousin’s parish with all the waving and dancing in the pews. It’s because I don’t like Mass when it requires me to do something other than just recite the prayers I already know. Not that I was waving and dancing, but it’s just something I’m not comfortable with. Frank, on the other hand, likes that stuff.
Not me. And do you want to know what I really dislike? We have this one priest at our parish who comes in and starts off by saying, “Good Morning.” Everyone is required to say it back. Not just say it back but loudly. Otherwise, he says, “I can’t hear you,” and they have to do it again. Then, when he’s doing his homily, he asks questions. Not rhetorical questions. Nope, he wants the congregation to answer them. Apparently he doesn’t realize that I am a creature of habit. I like things to be familiar. I like knowing what’s coming next. I don’t like surprises. I don’t like the unknown.
I was thinking about all that today because, as the Mass concluded, our cantor made an announcement about next week being Stephen’s candidacy Mass. After the Mass was over, the cantor came over to us and said he wanted to point to us as he made the announcement. “There are Steve’s parents!” Now I thought that was pretty funny but if someone had actually done that (the cantor wouldn’t really have pointed to us) I wouldn’t have thought it quite so funny.
Now just watch – 4 years from now Steve will end up in a parish like my cousin’s where the congregation expects to dance in the pews and he’ll love doing audience participation. Of course the good news is they never assign priests to their home parish so I won’t be expected to get up and do the wave.
Come on, people. I know it’s been a little slow here but am I that boring?? 6 people read my blog yesterday and 9 today. What happened to my daily 25 person average?
I searched but I can’t find any video. I really wanted to bring you the Texas Rangers playing Slip & Slide at Shea Stadium but you will just have to envision it. It was pouring here tonight. Major thunderstorms. The ballgame between the Mets & Rangers was rained out. They had a tarp over the infield. Some of the Rangers ran out and were sliding on the tarp. Security escorted them off to boos from the fans (not at the Rangers, at the security guards). A few Rangers got away and were out there again.
I made a valiant attempt to tape it from the TV with my camera but it came out awful. I was going to upload it, awful as it was, but it would take 8 minutes to upload with broadband so I decided not to. If I find it online tomorrow, I’ll put a link. Someone, somewhere, has to think it was as funny as I did and will YouTube it.
Update – It seems someone at the game taped it. This isn’t as good as the TV clip but better than nothing:
First of all, what demented, psychotic person took over my brain when I picked out my kitchen floor? Clearly I was possessed. I mean what in the hell was I thinking getting white? That was not a smart move what with having a dog & kids. Yes, it was white. Then it started looking this gray color so the white floor had to be washed. Scrubbed, more precisely.
This afternoon I spent oh, probably 239 hours sitting on the floor scrubbing it section by section. Yep, there I was, right there on the floor with a bucket of water, one of those scrubby sponges and a Mr. Clean Magic Eraser. Man, those things are cool! It also probably shouldn’t be used on a linoleum floor because no doubt it is ruining it but it’s the only damn thing that gets though some of the bad spots.
Naturally this was back breaking work, as well as arm breaking when one isn’t used to physical labor. After the first 200 hours, there was also a bottle of Heineken sitting on the floor with me. Hmmm…. I wonder if the alcohol in the beer would have helped with the dirt. Nah, probably not enough alcohol content in beer.
Then in my dazed cleaning stupor, I started thinking odd things. Fine. I think of odd things all the time & you all know this. It’s my story & I can say whatever I want. Anyhow, I got to wondering about bleach. Does bleach clean the dirt or does it just make the dirt white so you can’t see it? Now there’s something to ponder tonight while you’re downing that beer.
Nothing interesting is going on in Monklingland. Nothing at all. I can’t even blog about any amusing comments my kids may have made because they haven’t been around. Although there was the incident yesterday…
You know how some people are really annoying when they talk on their cellphones on the bus or train? Apparently there was a particularly loud woman talking on her cellphone when Steve was on the bus, coming home from work. The woman then made the mistake of telling the caller what her phone number was, loud enough for them to hear it out on the sidewalk, 3 blocks away. My son decides to key the number into his phone, block his number and call her while putting his phone on mute. He was then greatly amused when she demanded who was calling and how did they get her number. I’m not sure she caught on that it wasn’t a particularly smart move announcing your phone number out loud in a crowd.
I was also greatly amused last night as Theresa headed out to a party, to hear her big brother give her a lecture on drinking. It’s funny seeing him in over protective mode but I do like it.
Yes, my life has been so boring lately that this is what I’m reduced to. Y’all better hope something exciting happens around here.
You know how half the country has been experiencing a nice little heat wave? Well here’s what happens when a cold front smacks into the hot air:
That little tent used to be in the yard next door. Last night Frank & I were looking out the front door at the wind. Sure maybe not so smart since it seemed to be blowing so hard, it could have taken that tree out front and hit us with it but hey, we like living on the edge. The wind was so loud, we had to look outside. I had no clue about the tent, however, until this morning.
You will note my little garden. I am so proud of myself because, this year, I didn’t kill one single plant. I started everything from seeds & they all survived.
Just as an explanation first, yes we do read the NY Post. This is because, in a sea of NY liberal newspapers, it is the only relatively conservative one. Now naturally there has to be a down side to that and the down side is they like sensationalism, which at times can be annoying but today was really funny. So this was the front page:
I’m also sure y’all will be thrilled to know that I took care of the 2 most important things in preparation for the upcoming party: getting a tent, table & chairs so that people can sit and ordering food from Luigi’s. Now if I can only get this house clean enough for company…
And here’s something you probably don’t overhear at a doctor’s office everyday, “I’ll send you that arsenic.”
I’m sure there’s some reasonable explanation to it but I prefer to let my imagination run wild with that one!
Today there was no singing in the shower. There was, however, the high possibility of screaming in the shower. This morning I marched into the bathroom with my towel and shut the door. I heard a buzzing noise. I froze. What to do? Should I run? But then how could I take a shower. And I have to take a shower in the morning. It is part of my routine. Coffee. Shower. That’s the way it has to be.
Okay, obviously I need to kill the sucker. I grab a towel and stand guard, watching for it. I hear the buzzing again. It flashed before me and heads into the light fixture. Unfortunately, it did not get fried. Nor did I get a good look at it to determine whether or not it was an ordinary fly or… (scary music) a yellow jacket or some other sort of stinging insect. What with not having my glasses with me, because I don’t usually shower with my glasses, I couldn’t tell what the heck it was.
Naturally, in my imagination, it was a killer bee. I sneak out of the bathroom and run down to the basement for a can of insect spray. Charging back into the bathroom, fully armed, I stand at the ready. No killer bee is in sight.
I have a huge decision to make. Do I risk taking a shower? Will the killer bee come and attack me while I am in the shower? Are they afraid of water? Will it be hiding in my towel, waiting to get me when I’m done? I decided to be brave and take the risk.
It was the fastest shower ever. Then I carefully examined my towel before using it. I picked it up by a corner. I shook it. I examined it. Nothing was hiding in there. It seemed the killer bee had completely disappeared.
It wasn’t until hours later when I went back into the bathroom that I realized the window at the top has no screen & the thing probably found it’s way outside. Guess who won’t be opening the window at the top any more until the weather is well below 50.
I suspect that aliens landed on my front lawn. They know that we no longer let the dog wander all over the place; that he is confined to the backyard so they felt safe landing there. Apparently those space ships aren’t as large as you might think, which, I guess means the aliens are pretty small.
Oh, I suppose you think I’m making this up, don’t you. Well take a look at these:
They’re crop circles, I tell ya! Crop circles. What else leaves a brown circle and then a dark green one, surrounded by the normal, sickly green grass? No doubt there are hundreds of 3 inch tall aliens creeping around through the neighborhood.
Don’t nobody tell me about grass diseases or bugs or anything. I much prefer aliens. I especially will take aliens over bugs. I hate bugs. Really, really hate them.
