They Walk Among Us

Unfortunately in this Season of Giving, I’ve had to focus too much on work, which explains the very large gap in posts. Fortunately there have been a couple blog-worthy things to report. First, you have GOT to check out this video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gBT6efsWnyE. For those of you involved in the bankruptcy field, this will be especially hilarious, though it’s pretty funny even without that background. It’s a video on payday (or check) loans. These things are evil, and anyone who is actually able to pay them off is extremely lucky. The worst thing about these is the interest. I’ve heard of interest being charged on one of these at 520%. No joke. A staggering number of debtors in bankruptcy owe on these loans. And generally when they owe one, there are more to follow. Usually this is because they will take out additional loans to try to pay off those they already owe. It ends up being a proverbial house of cards, and all you have to do is pull one card out of the bottom, (such as someone getting sick and missing too much work,) and the whole thing collapses (i.e. a bankruptcy is filed.) As funny as this video is, in some ways it’s not that far off base.

Thankfully, though there has been quite a bit of work to do, there has been some comic relief as well. We have, in recent months, had difficulties with our paper folder. For those of you that might not know, this is a machine built for the sole purpose of folding pages of paper in thirds suitable for mailing. This is what we use when there are a large number of people that need to receive copies of a document. Recently it has been jamming quite a bit, and mangling the papers that were being put through it. The room which houses this machine is directly across the hallway from the break room. I was surprised to find one day, as I walked out of the break room, one of the office supervisors down on her knees in front of the paper folder, hands held reverently in a the praying position and raised toward the ceiling. I, of course, started laughing and asked her what she was doing. She said she was praying to the Paper Folder Gods so that the machine would finish the present mailing being run through it. I told her I did not remember reading about the Paper Folder Gods in Greek mythology. She assured me that they do exist. Later, on her way by, she stopped by my office to tell me that as soon as she stopped praying the machine jammed again. Don’t mess with the Paper Folder Gods….

I also have a story about my biggest pet peeve ever, which all of you are aware is stupid people. No, the title of this post does not refer to angels, though I believe that to be true as well. It does refer to the stupid people. They seem to be everywhere, and it gets worse during the holidays. Last week we had our first Monthly Project Night at the office. This is just a night to get together in the break room and work on projects we might have unfinished, but no time to do at home. For me it will most likely always be my cross stitch projects. I have so many unfinished I many never get to the ones that have not been started. However, the night is open to anyone in the office with any sort of project they many want the extra time to work on: scrapbooking, needlework, crafts, baby books, etc. We also have dinner. This time, due to short notice and the holidays, there were only three of us. So, we decided pizza was the best option. Early in the day I got on the website belonging to Domino’s, and placed an order to be delivered at 5:45. Since the doors to the building lock at a certain time, I waited in the lobby to let the delivery person in. 5:45 came and went. Then 6:00. 6:15. 6:20, no pizza. Finally, I came back upstairs to find two messages on my work phone saying the delivery man couldn’t find the address. I called the store to ask what was happening, and then was rudely (and I DO mean rudely) informed that I typed in the WRONG address. Uh, no, I didn’t. Apparently the computer not only changed one number of the address I entered, but the directional as well (from South to North). Why in the world would I type in North? This was definitely a computer glitch, but the little snot that answered the phone at the store insisted it was my fault. When I finally stopped arguing with her and asked her what I needed to do to get my pizza, she informed me that they would not deliver to this building, and that needed to call another store and place a new order. Ok, so I did that. I was quite annoyed to find that they charged me $4 more for a phone order than they had for an internet order, and could only offer the explanation that it’s cheaper on-line. Whatever. Since I was in a hurry so we could get the pizza before everyone was ready to go home, I didn’t bother to try to convince them to charge me less. Soon thereafter a received a call on my cell phone that the new driver couldn’t find the building either. I still can’t figure out what is so dang hard about locating this building. It’s twelve stories tall and it’s on the corner with a big sign on top with the name of the building on it, for crying out loud.

Nevertheless, I answered the phone only to be informed that “someone gave [me] the wrong address”. When I asked what address he had, he repeated to me the correct one. I told him that was the right address. He insisted that there was no car dealership on that corner (our building is owned by, and houses the main offices of, a local company well-known for their car dealerships). When I explained to him that it is not a dealership, but a building named after the company, he still insisted it was not there. It was all I could do to bite my tongue and not let him know how much of a complete idiot I thought he was, since I was STANDING in the building. Instead I tried to help him identify it by telling him which corner the building was on, and to look for the bank that is on the lobby level. Unfortunately this was also a wrong move on my part, since there is a building owned by that bank up the street. I had to again explain to him that no, this is not that building, there just is one of those branches on the main level. What floored me about this is that this is the store that is supposedly the one that is designated to deliver downtown. You can’t tell me that with all the offices in this building, and the surrounding buildings for that matter, no one here or near here has ever ordered a pizza to be delivered! Finally he said he saw the building and would be there in three minutes. Ten minutes later I was still waiting.

At last, as I was coming around the corner after having checked the back doors of the building (they lead in from the parking lot) for the umpteenth time, I hear pounding on the glass doors in the front of the building. I run to let in the delivery man, who is literally so nervous he is fidgeting. He informs me that this is because he has parked illegally. There is a whole parking lot out to the side of the building with free parking that was probably empty at that time of night, but he parks illegally. Ok. So I ask him for a pen to sign the credit card slip. Pen? What pen? He didn’t bring a pen. I placed this order with a credit card, he has the receipt and can see that it needs a signature, but he didn’t bring a pen. He then tells me to just scratch a tip and my signature on the receipt and he’ll keep the yellow carbon copy. I know I had that blank what-can-you-possibly-be-talking-about stare on my face. He said, “you know, scratch, with your fingernail”. I was like, uh, no. Luckily I had seen a pen sitting on the lobby floor that someone had dropped. I ran back in, picked it up and signed as quickly as I could just to get him the hell away from me. As it turned out I had to actually push the little green button (that says right on it “push to open doors”) FOR him to let him back out, since he tried unsuccessfully TWICE to push the doors open. Uh, they’re locked, remember? I was waiting for him to start screaming and hitting himself in the head when he couldn’t get them open. By the way, he got no tip. Needless to say, in future we will not be ordering pizza from Domino’s for the Project Night. Truthfully I’m not sure which aspect of this is scarier to me, the fact that this man was actually DRIVING, or the fact that he contributes to the gene pool.

Bad Day To Be A Thief

I had the strangest thing happen to me the other day. I was walking in to the building where I work, carrying quite a few things (you know, lunches for the week, purse, planner, coffee, etc.). All of a sudden a young man, probably my age or so :-), broke away from the group of people he was standing with outside, and opened the door for me. I was flabbergasted! I can’t remember the last time someone went out of their way for me like that. And, as if that wasn’t enough, not only did he open the first door for me, but he stepped inside and opened the second door for me as well (the building has two sets of doors at every entrance.) I’m sure I was beaming at him, and as I told him thank you in my most grateful sounding voice, I realized that he was not following me into the building. That was the icing on the cake. The man went out of his way to come and open doors for someone who needed it, and he wasn’t even going in the same direction! I glanced over my shoulder to see him headed back to the group of people he had been standing with to begin with. Giant kudos to whoever raised that man! That really is one of the problems I see with our society today. No one is willing to do anything for anyone else, just because it’s polite or kind or the right thing to do. It is sad to me that this man is the exception instead of the rule. I don’t know about anybody else, but that wasn’t the way I was raised.

Another thing that seems to be wrong today is that no one seems to be willing to stand up for themselves and protect their family. Maybe if it was more well known that people will fight back and not put up with all the crap, there would be less crime in the world. Here’s an example of what I mean. This happened a little over a month ago, and is truly an astounding event. This woman walked into her house to find someone had broken in…and was still there! Read the comments that go along with this article. There are a few people in there that seem to be right at the heart of what I’m talking about. This woman is amazingly brave, and I’m so impressed that she had the guts to stand up to someone violating HER rights. Yet there are still those people out there criticizing her for defending herself and her home. What is wrong with this country??

She also gave an interview to a radio station that I listen to in the mornings, 97.1zht. In the interview, she said that as she grabbed the guy’s legs as he ran past her, it actually ripped her fingernail off of her finger. She apparently has acrylics, and it actually ripped her natural nail completely off. As someone who has had acrylics, all I can say is…OUCH!! So there she was lying on top of this guy, her knee in his back pinning him to the floor, holding his arm back with one hand in such a way that she could have easily dislocated his shoulder, talking to 911 with the other hand, and bleeding all over the place. The DJs asked her about her threatening to break his arm, and she said that every minute or so the guy would start to try to move. She said every time she politely asked the 911 operator to hold on, then screamed at him that if he moved she’d break his arm, and then would go back to the operator and say “I’m sorry, you were saying?” Definitely my kind of person! They also don’t mention in the article that, in addition to her jewelry, they also found several medications from her medicine cabinet and coins from her child’s collection on the man. Clearly he was robbing the place. What a bad day to be a thief!

And speaking of which, this and this happened earlier this week. Seems that two banks at opposite ends of the valley had attempted bank robberies. The first one I heard about was the one out west. I guess the would-be robber presented the bank teller with a hold-up note. Though I’m dying to find out what it said, I cannot find where the contents of the note have been disclosed. Apparently, the note was incoherent enough that it confused the teller who did not comply with the robber’s orders. The robber got frustrated and walked out of the bank. The second robbery attempt was made at a bank that is really only a few blocks away from my house, which is scary in itself. But in this case, the bank has two levels that are open to each other. You know, with a balcony and everything. The robber pulled a knife on tellers on the first floor, demanding money. There were employees still on the second floor. One of them called 911 while another threw a chair over the balcony, hitting the robber in the back and knocking him to the floor. He got up and ran out of the bank empty handed. Now, what’s interesting to me is the descriptions of the robbers. The description from the west-side bank is not very detailed, but both descriptions contain some of the same information: black man in his 30’s, dark blue jacket and blue jeans. Could it possibly be the same man? Hmm, I don’t know, but imagine if it was! How humiliating! Foiled in two robberies on the same day! I guess the only thing he has going for him is that he didn’t get caught!

The Fun Side of Memory Lane

Recently a co-worker told me a story about a kindergarten student's take on Santa. Her son is a teacher, and I guess he did his student teaching in a kindergarten class. Around Christmas time, one child asked him how Santa knows whether you're good or bad. Before he could answer, another little girl piped up and said "Jesus tells him". Apparently Jesus has been ratting us out to Santa for years, and we just never knew it.

It put me in mind of some things that have been said at my house in recent weeks. Aren't little kids funny about Christmas? While at home in Wyoming over Thanksgiving, we saw Santa at the local Wal-Mart. It was the first time Sweetpea did not hesitate to go and talk to him, and sit on his lap. When Santa asked her what she wanted for Christmas, she told him five presents. Not four, not six, five. She did not tell him what she wanted in the presents. When I asked her shortly thereafter what Santa was going to bring her, she replied, "Presents and gifts. Red, yellow, blue and green presents and gifts." I could not get any information as to what should be contained in the presents and gifts. I, of course, started to panic since it creates a bit of a problem when you only know Santa will bring presents and gifts, but not what will be in them. Nor does it assist me in my own shopping ventures if I have no idea what Sweetpea wants. It occurred to me that I had done this to my mom when I was a child, or something similar, and I was probably getting what I deserved. I don't remember this, but I have been told, many many times in fact, that one Christmas I refused to tell my parents what I was asking Santa for for Christmas. Anytime I was asked, I would cross my arms, stick my nose in the air, purse my lips and reply "He knows." By the time December rolled around, my mom was beside herself and just knew that whatever it was I was asking for wouldn't make it under the tree. Luckily for her I decided to write Santa a letter. She was able to kipe the letter off of the mailbox after I had gone to school, and low and behold, Santa definitely delivered that year.

It also occurred to me that, since we don't watch a lot of TV with commercials at our house, and don't visit the toy stores or toy aisles on a regular basis, Sweetpea had probably not seen any toys to ask for. So, in our quest to find gifts for our nephews, last weekend we made the trek to the toy store, Sweetpea in tow. We let her take her time and explore the whole store, and sure enough, she found THE greatest toy ever, and has consistently stated that this is what she will ask for from Santa this year. Yay!

The trip to the toy store for me was both exciting and depressing, all at the same time. This is because I found several toys that are either making a comeback, or are still around from when I was a child. In October I found out that this year is the 25th anniversary of the Care Bears. Wal-Mart had a 25th anniversary Tenderheart Care Bear for sale. It is white, with a silver heart on its tummy, a sterling silver nose and Swavorski Crystals in its eyes.
It also comes with a DVD of the original Care Bear movie. Of course I just had to have it. No, not for Sweetpea, for me! I bought one and put it up on the shelf in the closet unopened. (I found out as I was looking for pics for this post that there is also a pink 25th anniversary Care Bear. I may have to have it, too.)
I was especially excited because Care Bears is one of the "stayed around" toys that hasn't changed a bit. They still look exactly like they always did. The same goes for My Little Ponies. While at the toy store, I discovered that 2008 is also the 25th year of My Little Ponies. They are currently offering for sale two packages of three ponies each - the original six ponies released in 1983!
I was so excited I immediately added them to my Christmas list! Again, no, not for Sweetpea, for me. They, too, will go up on the shelf in the closet and remain in the boxes. In searching for these pics, I also found out that 2007 was the 25th anniversary of Rubik's Cube and G.I. Joe as well. Geez, I feel old.
While at the toy store, I also came upon a display of Pound Puppies. That's right, THE Pound Puppies! Full size!
Though they mostly looked exactly like I remember them, it appears they have added some new puppies to their repertoire. And perhaps they are a "coming back" toy rather than a "stayed around" one, but I was nonetheless thrilled to see them. I immediately snatched one off the shelf and turned to Sweetpea saying, in a voice that I'm sure the majority of the people in the six aisles to my right and the 8 aisles to my left could hear, "I think we should get one of THESE!" She looked at me with that look of a child who believes their parent has suddenly lost their mind, looked at the Pound Puppy, and said "Oh look, a puppy." She gave it a courtesy pet, then promptly walked away. I was amused and devastated all at the same time. As I put the puppy back on the shelf, I caught a few of the looks from the other parents nearest to me. No, it's not what you think. They were not looking at me as if I were completely insane. Instead, every single one of them was grinning with that knowing smile that says "We agree, we want one too, but our kids weren't impressed either."

It really doesn't end here. I am a little disappointed with the comeback of Strawberry Shortcake, because they look nothing like they used to. Though the smell seems to be the same. I don't like the new Cabbage Patch dolls AT ALL. They are too big, and though they may look similar to their original form, I can tell the difference. Yuck. Although, I think I saw somewhere that their anniversary is also coming up, and they are celebrating with the release of an original version of the doll. Then again, maybe that is something I just concocted.

In addition, I was so stoked to find at Wal-Mart the Cooties game on sale! My nephew is getting one for Christmas. All in all, the trip to the toy store was actually pretty fun, though I left there feeling REALLY old. It's bound to get to you when the toys you played with as a kid are announcing their 25th anniversaries. I did go home and promptly call my mom to tell her of the discoveries I had made, and the new additions to my Christmas list. She, of course, found the whole thing amazingly funny. In between snorts of laughter, she tried to answer my questions as to whether she had saved any of these toys from when I was a kid. Ultimately we decided that a trip to the attic will be necessary on our next trip home. I'm actually excited, despite the distinct possibility of finding spiders up there (I'm an arachnophobe). Mom promised to set off a bug bomb up there a couple days before we get there, and I will hold her to it.

Of course, my husband made fun of my little walk down memory lane, and rolled his eyes every time I mentioned adding one of these things to my Christmas list. But you should have seen him check out the electric race tracks with that little gleam in his eye. And when he thought I wasn't looking, I saw him pick up and peruse a game of Operation....

Runs Naked With Deer

Howdy. Hope everyone's Thanksgiving and holiday weekend were great. Mine was pretty good. We made the trip home to Wyoming to spend it with my family. It's always good for me to get home, and to visit with my grandparents as much as possible. My Grandma Nene is 80 and my Papa is 79, so I like to spend as much time with them as I can, and especially to give them the chance to spend some time with my daughter. This Thanksgiving was a little different than I'm used to, but it had to do with the meal more than anything. Usually Nene & Papa cook the whole meal themselves (of course, with a little help from us). This year, we decided it was just too much for them to handle on their own, and we all contributed. My sister made green bean casserole and garlic mashed potatoes (which were FANTASTIC), my mom made stuffing/dressing (depending on which recipe you use) and four pies, I made sweet potato casserole and whipped cream, and my grandparents contributed the rest, which included the turkey, gravy, corn on the cob, caramelized (I think) onions and the cranberry sauce. Ok, so I didn't make the sweet potato casserole. I started to, and then got kicked out of the way by my husband. He said he would take over because he was afraid I would spit in it or burn it on purpose or something. This is because I don't like sweet potatoes, in any form. He got no complaints, just dirty looks and the burning curiosity about what kind of person he seems to think I am. So I whipped the cream. Though I helped clean up afterwards, so I'm not completely useless. Dinner was, of course, really good, and I ate myself silly as usual.

I did brave Black Friday somewhat, but there was no way on this earth I was getting up at 4:00 a.m. (or earlier) to fight the crush of people for things I don't need and don't intend to buy for anyone on my list. That's just psychotic. And yes, there was a huge number of people shopping at that time (so I heard), even in Wyoming. Instead, mom and I ventured out around 10:00. Things were much calmer by then. Yes, there were still quite a few people out and about, but you could walk down the aisles without getting plowed into by someone else's shopping cart, or having to turn your body sideways and suck in your breath just to avoid being run over. We stayed out for about four hours, and in that time managed to cover K-Mart, Wal-Mart, Home Depot, the Dollar Store, and three stores in the mall. And take 20 minutes to wait in line for a pretzel. (I won't even get started on that.) All in all a pretty successful trip. Also, by the time the weekend was over, between store shopping and online shopping, I managed to wipe out gifts for all but maybe 5 or 6 people on my Christmas list. Not bad. Not bad at all.

A couple very interesting things did happen this weekend. On Friday my husband, my sister's husband and my dad went fishing at Flaming Gorge for a new type of fish. This is one we've never seen before. It's called a burbot. Here are a couple of websites that give good descriptions: http://www.adfg.state.ak.us/pubs/notebook/fish/burbot.php or http://www.rook.org/earl/bwca/nature/fish/lota.html. You'll notice, though, that they state these fish are found in the Northern U.S. What has happened is that a year or two ago these were illegally planted in some waters around Farson, Wyoming (I think) and have quickly moved their way downstream and into the Gorge. I hear their population has exploded, and while there still is a limit on these fish since they are game fish, the limit is 25 per person and release is not allowed. You catch it, you keep it. The bad news is that they eat a lot of the same things the large lake trout and small mouth bass eat, so there is concern for too much competition for the same food chain. It's expected that they will reach the Green River below Flaming Gorge Dam by next summer, and if so will decimate the trout populations there. Hence the no release rule. The good news is that these fish have an amazing taste. I didn't know until reading those articles myself that they are part of the cod family, but it certainly explains the wonderful flavor of the meat. We chopped it up and boiled it, then ate it with melted butter. YUMMY! I have instructed my dad to go back and get more! I did find it interesting that another name for these fish is the lawyer fish. Could that be because they resemble eels or snakes? Well, my dad did say when you pick them up to get them off the hook, they wrap their tails around your arm. Ew.

Another interesting thing is that somehow my daughter has become a hot cocoa connoisseur. I guess when she was visiting her Granna's house (my mom) without me, she got to have hot cocoa. This morning she asked me for some, and so I made up a cup for her to take with her to daycare. She took one drink and informed me that it wasn't hot cocoa, it was hot chocolate and she didn't want it. I'm still trying to figure out what the difference is, but I guess I better get in touch with Granna and find out what Sweetpea has been drinking there!

And now for the best thing that happened. I probably should give a little background here. My family all lives in the same neighborhood in my hometown. My sister's house is right next door to my grandparents' house. My parents' house is around the corner and four houses up. Across the street from my sister and grandparents, and out my parents' backyard gate, is a pretty large park by small town standards called Garnet Park. It includes a couple sets of playground equipment, a basketball court, a tennis court, some horseshoe pits, a small fountain, a couple picnic areas and a large expanse of open grass, as well as some pathways and benches. This was my stomping ground as a kid. The Park is surrounded by neighborhood, but if you head directly up the hill from the park it's only 5 or 6 blocks before you hit the edge of town. This is open prairie/desert, which is of course inhabited by deer. Sometimes in the winter, the deer will head into the neighborhood at night and end up in the park. This has happened more and more the last few winters. Well, Friday night, my mom, sister, the kids and I were all at my sister's house waiting for the guys to come back from the fishing trip. About 10:00 my mom finally gave up and started to head home. She'd only been gone about five minutes when the phone rang. It was her, calling to tell us there was deer and a naked guy in the park. Yes, that's right, a naked guy. She said it so nonchalantly we at first thought she was kidding. By the time my sister and I and the kids got upstairs, the naked guy was gone. We did take the kids out to see the deer, of which there were four does laying down by one of the picnic areas. Apparently the naked guy was not completely naked, he did have shoes on. Which makes sense since by that time the temperature was probably down to 10 degrees (it bottomed out that night at either 6 or 8 degrees above zero.) Certainly he wouldn't want to run through the dusting of snow in 10 degree weather with bare feet. When I asked mom if she was sure he was naked, she said there was no doubt. He was a young man, probably just a teenager, and she said she got the impression he was probably doing it on a dare, since he was running so fast and there was a get-away car waiting for him at the other end of the park. The kicker is that he was running with his hands cupped between his legs. My dad later made the comment that in that temperature he was sure not doing it to prevent things from flopping about. My mom has decided to write a letter to the editor of the city's paper to let the young man know that there was a witness to the escapade, and I'm sure I'll help her with that since I really can't resist. In our discussions of him, we have nicknamed him "Runs Naked With Deer", and he will surely be a chapter in family lore.

And Finally....

Yes, I am completely aware that my last post was ten days ago. Thank you to those of you who "reminded" me that I do in fact have a blog. Unfortunately I don't really have that much to discuss. But give me a few minutes of rambling, and I'm sure I can come up with something. The rambling part shouldn't be too hard, especially since I'm all hopped up on cold medicine. (Though I have been told some of my best stuff has been when I've been drugged up on DayQuil!) Yes, I'm sick - AGAIN. It appears to be an ongoing thing. Every time I get stressed, I get sick. Of course, by stressed I don't mean just your every day run-of-the-mill stressful situation. I mean super stressed. So when work crosses over to the I-haven't-been-so-busy-since-the-2005-filing-panic side, I'm guaranteed to get sick. (Those of you involved in the bankruptcy field know EXACTLY what I'm referring to. And yes, I spent a month and a half sick in the Fall of 2005.) Generally I stay sick until I can get the stress to calm down. If I can do it quickly, it only becomes a mild cold. Lucky me.

So I have to tell everyone something that happened to me on my way to work this morning. I had just dropped off Sweetpea at daycare, and had only managed to travel a couple of blocks away. I was in the outside lane, and came upon a car slowing down to turn right onto a side street. I wanted to remain in the lane I was in, so I slowed down too. However, the turning vehicle must have been a Lexus or a Mercedes driven by an elderly person, because they somehow forgot which pedal was the gas and nearly came to a complete stop. Of course, that forced me to slow down so much I might as well have been stopped too. As I was waiting for the driving-impaired person to complete the turn, I realized that at that same street, waiting to turn left from the stop sign, was a man in a van swirled 70's style with (I kid you not) pink, purple and white, towing some kind of utility trailer behind it. Now I probably would not have even noticed, but for the brilliant van driver's idea to pull out in front of me to make his turn. Had he done that while Ms. Lexus was still turning, it would have been no biggie, since I couldn't really go anywhere anyway. But noooo, he chose to wait until she had almost completed the turn to pull out, literally driving his rig right out in front of me. Nor did Mr. Brilliant think it was a good idea to make this turn quickly. He took his sweet time moving along out into traffic. As for me, I sat there flabbergasted, with my mouth literally hanging open and both hands thrown up in the air in my best "what the hell?" gesture. As I pointedly watched him pass in front of me, frozen in this unmistakable position, I was even more shocked to witness him flipping me off! As if I was the idiot here. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised. Anyone who would drive that van while pulling a trailer filled with who knows what probably has more than a few screws loose in the first place.

Alright, enough of that. I believe I promised some Halloween pics of Sweetpea. So here, at long last, is my little princess:

No, that is not a boa over her shoulder. It is a purse with a feather shoulder strap. The strap is just too long for her, so if she carries it around at full length it drags on the floor. I just tied a loop in the top to shorten it for her. In the purse she insisted on carrying her coin purse stuffed with change and her makeup. You never know when you might need a touch up! She was so good this night, and sat so still while I messed with her hair and did her makeup. She even let me put mascara on her (but only a little!) Thank goodness, because the next day, which happened to be Halloween, she refused to let me do anything other than put a crown on her head (which, incidentally, was not the one pictured, but a real life tiara she received as a gift from her Granna that has combs on the sides to help it stay put in your hair), and put a little eyeshadow on.

Yes, I realize she does not look happy in any of these pictures. We could not for the life of us get her to smile! Not even off camera! I didn't find out until just before we ate at the Trunk-or-Treat that the reason she was not smiling was because she was wearing lipstick. Pink, sparkly lipstick. Apparently she was of the impression that if she smiled, the lipstick would somehow magically disappear. I only discovered this because she asked me to wipe it off, and the second I ran the napkin over her lips in some semblance of an attempt to get it off (there is no way this was going to take it all off, this was that fake kids' lipstick that barely comes off with a putty knife and paint thinner) she began to smile like crazy. Too bad I don't have any pics of the smiles, she was just beautiful that night. (Yes, she really is only 3.)

This is the closest thing we got to a pic of a smile. And this was taken by my bil. Yes, that is me behind her. I also didn't discover until arriving at the Trunk-or-Treat that her dress has ties in the back meant to make a cute little velvet bow. So I was fixing the problem. Luckily, this is the only image I know of captured of me that night! Unfortunately none of these pics really show her makeup, which really made the whole outfit. Oh well, I got to see her and she was/is gorgeous!

Irritations Abound

For whatever reason, I cannot contain my irritation today. It seems one thing after another irritates me. Truth be told, the irritation actually began last night, when I went home thinking about a case for hearing today that is just bugging me like none other. It's just one of those situations that doesn't smell right, and I'm pretty sure there is something not so honest/ethical going on. However, I have no proof and due to Rules of Civil Procedure, I can't get my hunch entered as evidence in the courtroom. The fact that there is nothing I can do about it doesn't stop me from going a little nutty over it.

My next irritation happened this morning when I took my daughter with me to the polls. The place where we vote is a school just a couple of blocks from my house, so I thought it would be easier to take her with me on the way to daycare. At first she thought I was saying that I was taking her with me to "boat". When I explained to her that I was actually saying "vote", and sounded it out for her, she changed her pronunciation but not her idea of what we were going to do. Once I had cast my ballot, we headed for the door, when all of the sudden she stopped dead where she was and said she didn't want to leave. When I asked why, she said she wanted to ride in the vote. It dawned on me that she, being only three, has no idea what a vote is. She got in her mind that it was like a boat, and she was to ride on it. And stubborn as my child is, she refused to let go of that idea. I tried to explain to her that I had already voted, and that it was a word that meant to choose (in a round about way, but this is the best definition I could think of. How do you explain voting to a three-year-old?) I tried this tack from several different angles. Each time I concluded what I thought was a perfectly understandable explanation, she followed up with "I want to ride on the vote." As if I had not said a word. So, I changed angles. I tried to explain that a vote is something you do, it is not something you ride on. She didn't get that either, and continued to repeat that she wanted to ride on the vote. By the time I had her strapped back in her car seat, I was so frustrated and out of patience that I just finally told her that the vote was broken and we couldn't ride on it today. She accepted that explanation, but I get the funny feeling it will come back to bite me in the near future.

The next irritation came just a few minutes later when, about a half a block away from the daycare, it suddenly occurred to me that today is picture day. You know that feeling you get in the pit of your stomach when you realize, all of a sudden, that something very important has escaped your attention? Yes, I had forgotten (surprise, surprise.) I had even written it down in my planner so I wouldn't forget, and had had my planner open just yesterday. And still I forgot. Unfortunately my daughter chose her own clothes today with no prompting from me. She chose a blue Hogle Zoo t-shirt with a monkey on it, and a teal-colored sweatshirt to wear over the top that says "Am I cute or what?" on the front. My husband helped her get dressed this morning, and so he simply chose a pair of jeans from the top of one of the baskets full of laundry I have yet to get folded/hung up and put away. The jeans have embroidered butterflies and flowers down the lower parts of the legs, the cuffs of the legs are ruffled, and there is a pink ribbon around the bottom of each leg. The sweatshirt does have flowers on it around the little saying, which is why I didn't bother to change her jeans to an unadorned pair. To top it off, she chose tan shoes with pink butterflies all over them, and, in an effort to get out of the door quickly so I could go vote, I simply pulled her hair up into a ponytail. Which she had completely destroyed before we ever got to daycare, since she refuses to wear her sunglasses and instead pulls her blanket up over her head. I walked her into daycare looking helplessly at all the little girls in their pretty matching outfits and hair all done up special, and the little boys all dressed up in their cute little shirts and dress pants, and felt like the most inattentive mother in the world because my daughter looked like a bum. Pictures were being taken at 9:00 this morning, so there literally was no time for me to run back home and bring her back a nice outfit. Her teacher promised to fix her hair before the pictures, so at least she will have that going for her, but still! I feel like such a heel. My husband tried to reassure me by reminding me that we don't purchase the pictures taken there (we have her pictures done every year around her birthday), but I told him I had wanted a class picture for her book, and thought it would have been nice if our daughter had looked the part.

Of course traffic irritated me all the way to work after that. No one was capable of doing the speed limit this morning. At least, no one on the same roads as me. Then, just a little while ago, another irritation popped up in the form of an email notification of a comment on my blog. The notification said it was a comment from someone named Tara. I don't know anyone named Tara. When I opened the email it turned out that it was a spam comment. I know I'm new to this blogging thing, but it never even occurred to me that someone would post a comment that is nothing more than spam! Why is it not enough that I get hounded by Spam mail on both my personal and work emails, and that I get sales calls at home (which basically equates to Phone Spam)? Must these people continue their assault by leaving Spam Comments on a site that's just supposed to be a little fun??? Needless to say, I have deleted the comment and opted to moderate comments from here on out. No more spam on this blog! Although I'm sure it doesn't matter a whole lot, since with an average of about 5 hits a day, I doubt they'll sell much.

Hopefully the rest of today and this evening will go better, though I'm not holding my breath. I've already discovered that I have to stop by my house before I ever go to pick up Sweetpea at daycare, because today tuition is due and my husband took the checkbook. Not that it's really his fault. He usually picks her up and it is just habit to grab the checkbook on tuition day. But tonight he is teaching, so I have to pick her up. While he was home for lunch he left the checkbook there. So I have to drive all the way home to get it, to drive all the way to pick her up, just to drive all the way back home again. GRRRRR!!!!

Halloween Capers

Ok, yes, I'm aware that I'm a slacker. I haven't posted since Oct. 29th. And I know how everyone has been looking forward to Halloween pictures. In my defense, that is exactly why I haven't posted. I've been waiting for my husband to download the pictures he took of Sweetpea in her princess costume. And why can't I do it myself, you ask? Because his camera is this huge monstrosity of a thing that I haven't the slightest idea how to use. Ok, maybe a slight idea, but still... Anyway, I've been asking him to download them for nearly a week now, and he has yet to do it. Tonight I threatened him telling him I would mess with his camera and do it myself if he didn't get on the job pronto. I was hoping the mere threat of the disaster I might turn his camera into if I tried to do it myself would be motivation enough to get it done. Unfortunately, he just looked at me and said "good luck finding the card." (I can only assume he meant the digital card where the pics are stored, but this is how little I know about his camera. For all I know he could have been referring to Hallmark.) So, frustrated, here I post. I was hoping to be saved my brother-in-law, who also took several pics of Sweetpea at the Trunk-or-Treat last Tuesday night. However, despite his promises to do so by yesterday, he has yet to download HIS pics to his online gallery. Grrrrr. Men!

So, in lieu of pics, at least temporarily, I thought I would try and paint a few mental pictures for you instead. I make no guarantees that you won't need intense therapy when I'm finished. This year, after much debate and what seemed like very minimal interest on her part, Sweetpea finally decided that she wanted to be a princess for Halloween. She made this decision while standing in the store browsing at costumes. (No, I am not a crafty mom that makes her costumes. I'm perfectly happy to buy it and let someone else do all the work. I just don't have the time.) After purchase of the pretty pink costume and crown, of course, she then switched to a pumpkin, then a ghost, then back to a princess. Thank god. Luckily for her, I'm ok with the kids "double-dipping", as my friend Em calls it. We've done Trunk-or-Treat for the last four Halloweens, either at my mil/fil's ward or my sil's ward (since I'm not LDS and my husband is not active). And since the ToTs are not held on Halloween, actual Trick-or-Treating is still allowed. Needless to say, the kid makes out like a bandit. Which means that I will be gaining a few pounds before all the candy has disappeared.

So this year it was at my mil's ward. There was a chili dinner, with prizes for the best chili, a pumpkin carving contest, a costume contest and a trunk decorating contest. I have no idea who won, since I don't know anyone in the ward but my in-laws. But there were some pretty awesome costumes. I especially loved The Man with the Yellow Hat and Curious George, the cupcake and the little missionary who was about 5 years old. At most. The weather was quite nice, and Sweetpea had lots of practice on her "Trick-or-treat"s and "Thank you"s. Though, most of the time she would just open up her bag and say thank you right off the bat, by the end of the night she had it down. In between cars she jumped up and down and giggled, she was having so much fun! Once she finished her rounds, she sat inside our trunk all decked out in her pink fur coat handing out candy to the other kids. I thought we ought to get a prize for that. I'd vote it Best Decorated Trunk!

The next night, Halloween, my husband took her around the neighborhood Trick-or-treating, while I managed to finally make it home from work to be there to answer the door at our house. They spent at least an hour and a half walking around, which I believe to be a record for our neighborhood. (There aren't a lot of people that hand out candy, and few kids that come around to houses, which is probably a bonus since most of them that do will definitely arrive home with an abundance of treats.) When they returned ladened down with her over-flowing bag, my husband informed me that she can't go with him any more. When I asked why, he said she embarrasses him. Further inquiry revealed that at the houses where the owners offered her two pieces of candy, Sweetpea would counter with "Well how about three?" That's my girl. In addition, any time someone told her what a pretty princess she was, or how cute she was, she would respond with "I know". I guess she's heard that a little too much. One neighbor apparently held the candy bowl out of her reach until she said "Trick-or-treat". Sweetpea tried several times for the bowl, then frowned, stomped her foot, and let out with a big sigh before she said the magic words. I don't know that she remembered to say thank you at that house. To top it all off, she kept telling my husband that they couldn't go home yet because the bag wasn't full.

Of course the sorting through the candy was the best part. The actual smell of the goodies brought back all sorts of yummy memories. And I saw all sorts of stuff in there that I would eat. Oh, um, I mean, that Sweetpea would eat. *giggle* I did find something odd in her bag, though. A 100 Calorie Snack Pack. They were at least oreos, but come on! Who gives out 100 Calorie Snack Packs for Halloween?? From the looks of things, someone in my neighborhood. That's a scary thought!

Speaking of scary, we had a little adventure, too. First, the last Trick-or-Treater we had on Halloween was really weird. He (I'm guessing it was a he, since the full mask and wig he was wearing made it impossible to tell) knocked on the door instead of ringing the doorbell. Since it was a little late, my husband went to the door. This 'kid' stood at least as tall as my husband, probably was similar in weight, and he was alone. He never said a word, just opened up his bag for the candy. When my husband dropped a couple candy bars in, the kid walked away. Never even said thank you. It was just really weird. I wondered how old he was, but it was the kind of Friday the 13th creepy thing that made me wonder if he was going to come back and break down the door with a chain saw. My husband and I looked at each other after he had closed the door, and he said "Yeah, we're done for the night."

The next scary thing that happened was just this past Saturday. We had come home from dinner out and Sweetpea had zonked out on the couch. My husband and I finished cleaning up the mess created earlier in the day from the delivery of Sweetpea's new bedroom furniture. As we were just finishing up, there suddenly rang out a large POP sound from outside. My reaction was to stop dead where I was and say "what the hell was that?" Being the gun guru that he is, my husband thought it sounded like a gunshot. We immediately went into "Spy mode" and killed all the lights, then crouched on the couch peering out of the front window as if we were on some secret mission to uncover the truth. As if anyone outside actually watching our house wouldn't have known what we were doing! We only debated calling the police for about a minute and a half, which was apparently 30 seconds longer than our across-the-street neighbor. As my husband was on the phone with the police dispatcher, another loud POP rang out. Since I was looking out the window, I was able to see that the POP was accompanied by a very bright flash, and that it was coming from up the street either on the same side as our house, or near the parking lot of the Luthern church/school that is on the corner. He reported the information to her, gave her our information, then hung up. So we sat in the dark, watching out into the street and waiting for the police to arrive. It didn't take long, I'd say 5 minutes max, before a patrol unit pulled up. My husband went out and talked to him for a few minutes, as did several of the neighbors, and then came in to report the police had received several calls. We continued to sit in the dark watching nothing outside (except an additional police unit go speeding by) until we finally received a call from the police office about 15 minutes later. It seems that "kids" had been blowing up pumpkins in the church parking lot with what appeared to be some sort of illegal firework. That's why I saw a flash. They said there was pumpkin all over the parking lot up there, and they searched the adjoining small park area and wood, but found nothing. The officer hypothesized that the kids didn't really realize what would happen, and that the explosion of the pumpkin probably scared the crap out of them and they ran off. I'm more inclined to believe a police car coming toward where you're standing, knowing you're doing something illegal, has the better scare-the-crap-outta-you effect. Needless to say there have been no more loud POPs, and we haven't heard if the culprits were ever caught.

I will continue to harass and/or threaten my husband until he downloads the Halloween pics, so as soon as I can accomplish that, I will post them. Hope everyone had a very happy, very safe, Halloween! MUUHHUUWAHHHHAHAHA!!!