I glanced over while stopped at a red light Friday night and I was deeply saddened. He was staring emotionless out the driver's side window, hand covering his mouth. She was looking straight ahead. Neither was speaking, or even listening to the music. When did they stop enjoying each other's company?

There are many wise sayings that indicate that people that are smart with money are rewarded with more money. Why did I see a Bentley take a curb today? That's not being smart.

I'm so excited about Simply Vera Vera Wang!!!!!

Crazy & Crabby

I went to Culver's for a perfect pms meal - cheeseburger, cheese fries and soda. There was a beautifully scruffy construction worker of a man just ahead of me in line. He had pale blue eyes and dirty blond hair and skin that was just the right shade of tan. I found it difficult not to look at him, as he found it difficult not to look at me. I am sad that I didn't take the scowl off my face long enough to find out his name.

Annoying people suck

The neighbors with the annoying dogs that live a few doors down are also annoying. I was trying to figure out what makes them annoying to me. I think I have it figured out - volume. The dogs loudly bark. The woman talks loudly in her West Allis accent. The man loudly proclaims his drunken abilities. The child loudly shouts imaginary threats at other children. But why is this annoying? I have been known to be loud. But, not every day. Not all the time. And is it my preference for a quiet neighborhood that makes it annoying? We don't have numerous other loud people to gauge them against. Would they be annoying if everyone were loud most of the time? I think they would.

New hair! (Ignore the pimple)

Mini-review

The latest book was recommended by Yvonne.

I was entertained by the "one liners", but depressed by the story line.

I'm being brainwashed.

I like to watch re-runs on late night television. In particular, I like Sex & the City and Friends. They're so make believe, it's a nice escape just before bed. But they always have these ads for personal services. Like it's not okay to be happily single. Jerks.

A great compliment

Today, I worked at a store that will be mine in two months. I will be supervising two young officers who don't like change. I was talking with one of them today about the upcoming change. He told me that he wasn't sure if he was going to live up to working with the number one LP supervisor in the district.

However, I'm still very mean. Moments later, I'm noticing a bit of pudge and wondering what to do about it. I see the fattest woman ever and think, "I'm not that bad, don't need to do anything."

And right now, I'm wondering what is up with my neighbors. The 3 year old keeps running outside completely naked. Then the mom comes outside with her. Mom isn't naked, but doesn't bring the child inside or put clothes on her. This has repeated about three times in the last half an hour. Seriously? We live within mere blocks of many registered child molesters and you are letting your 3 year old outside without clothes on? Come on.

My First Comedian

I have never been into stand up comedy acts. I have tried watching them, and I just sit there staring at the TV thinking "My head is so much funnier than this pile of doggie doo." I caught a bit of a Dane Cook show last year and absolutely loved it. Then I caught a whole show and almost peed my pants. I was talking about it with someone I work with, and they said they would loan me the CD's. So, I'm thinking I'm totally not going to enjoy a CD of stand up. And it begins as I'm thinking "See, it's not funny." Then Dane Cook tells a joke. And I say "Ha, I'm not laughing!" And Dane Cook keeps talking. I'm giggling and trying not to. Then I'm crying I'm laughing so hard.

I'm gonna put away some blankets and pillows and watch a DVD that came with the CD's now.

Jazzy Acquaintance

About seven years ago or so I learned about Jazz in the Park. I went just about every week that summer and discovered The Donna Woodall Group. They were amazing, and I couldn't find them again. And then Donna Bender came to church and began singing on the worship teams. About three years later, I figured out that Donna Bender was Donna Woodall. But she wasn't performing.

Tonight, I went to Jazz in the Park to see The Donna Woodall Group. They still ROCK!

They're playing again August 16th. I hope I'm off work.

Update.

I've had a busy week or so, and I'm way behind with some life stuff. Mom and Dad came to visit and brought Cam. We visited the 3rd Ward, Bayshore Town Center and Discovery World Museum. The Museum isn't quite done yet, so it kind of sucked.

We did go down to Joliet/Diamond to visit family down there. That was nice because I hadn't seen them in forever.

I'm excited to have a day of nothing tomorrow. I'll finally get to catch up on sleep. And my friend is playing at Jazz in the Park tomorrow night.

Today

Daisy got her first oil change.

I also cleaned pertinent parts of my house so that perhaps my mother wouldn't have something nasty to say about that when they arrive on Thursday.

I've ignored all work calls, and only checked personal-type emails.

I accidentally bleached one of my favorite shirts.

I didn't itch before it was time for the antihistamine.

I painted my toenails and opened a bottle of wine.

I went for a walk with a dog.

I skipped Bible study.

I ignored all calls.

I had pizza and I had ice cream.

And I've done it all in pink panties.

Beautiful

The Color of Water: A Black Man's Tribute to His White Mother

I have a feeling this synopsis/recommendation will be rambling and convoluted. I apologize.

My mother sends me books regularly. I buy books regularly. I have a stack of about 20 books I want to read and another 20 that have been recommended but I don't see why. I will read them all. In my last package from my folks was this book. Complete with a Half Priced Books clearance price tag of $2.00, I was certain that this was going in the pile of books that I read out of obligation. After my frustration with Obama's propaganda he had the nerve to sell as a book, I picked up this book. Even an obligation book had to be less frustrating.

From page one I identified. James McBride writes of an ethnic struggle he faced when he realized that his family was different. I remember growing up in a small town barely north of the Mason-Dixon line in Missouri. I remember my brother, nine years older than me, being popular because of his athletic prowess. I remember knowing where the Klan member lived. I don't remember understanding what that meant besides fear. My brother didn't look like me and certainly we had a very different bone structure. He was taller than our folks at age 15. And then my dad adopted my brother. I had recently seen an episode of Punky Brewster. One of the children at the orphanage had been adopted and had to move away. I cried for a whole day before Guy finally figured out why I was upset. That was how I learned the term "biological father". I still didn't understand. I have never seen our dad as my dad. I have never seen Guy as a half brother.

I don't think I struggled with my view of my family life. But I know I struggled with the view that others had with my family life. I can relate to McBride's view of his mother. The conversations and incidents that I read as McBride's experiences with his mother reminded me of conversations and incidents in our family's life. The strength of his mother reminds me of the strength of my mother. The crazy resolve of his mother is identical to my mother's. And how surprising: both mothers can say that all of their children are beautiful and successful. Ironic: both mothers went to school as "non-traditional" students to become social workers.

Thank you, James McBride. You have shared with me a beautiful memoir.

A priority

What's your number one priority?

Last night, I was out with yet another friend for dinner. This was a slightly different dinner, as I was testing the waters with my recently surgerized gums and big people food. We had a marvelous meal, and I ordered cake, and my friend ordered creme brulee. Our server returns, "I'm sorry, we're out of creme brulee. Our full desert menu?" My friend orders the waffle ice cream sandwich. Time passes. A busboy brings my cake and two forks. I say, "No, she's got her own desert coming...." He looks surprised. More time passes. Our server stops by and says, "We're having a bit of trouble with the waffle iron." More time passes. The manager stops by. "Your desert is our number one priority. Everyone in the kitchen is hoping this one turns out." I see it come from the back room. It starts tilting. The server turns the dish slightly to the side to try to balance it out. He walks quicker. He turns the dish ever so slightly more. The plate makes it to the table, just as the tower of waffle and ice cream tumbles. I clap. After all, a sideways tower still on the plate is, indeed, edible.

I caught Ben returning from a morning adventure the other day. What do you suppose he was up to?

Missing Four Teeth

July 5th, 2007 - a day I will remember for years. It started with this foreboding like I've never felt before. I didn't want to have my teeth pulled from the get-go. The procedure was without incident. However I did learn quite a bit of the office drama. And then I went home and was violently ill. And it took a while for the nausea to go away. And my cheeks are swollen. And the ibuprofen makes me tired. And I want to chew something!

UPDATE:
I had a meal of french fries and cake today. I'm a little sore from all the chewing, but it was worth it. And, getting out of the house just before I went mental was totally worth it!

From CNN

Hot dog champion can't muster up seventh win.

Interesting choice of "breaking news". I love our over-media'ed, ultra-hyped lifestyle that encourages heart attacks by putting this event on ESPN and chastising the runner-up for only managing to eat 63 hot dogs in 15 minutes.

Getting Ice Cream Should Never Be Difficult

Last night, my friend and I went out for a somewhat usual "Girl's Night To Dress Up". After an amazing dinner at Nessun Dorma, we needed something sweet. So we went to Cold Stone Creamery. The treat was ordered without incident, however it was too cold to devour it in the establishment.

We were walking out the door when an inebriated fellow asked if we could spare 30 cents. I never carry cash, and my friend generally doesn't either. As I was telling the fellow this fact, he dropped his cigarette. I very kindly pointed out that he dropped it, since it didn't seem to register with him at the time. His response? "Fuck you. You know what? You're a lying bitch." So we walk out to the street, trying to make a hasty exit. I notice at that moment that there are two city police squads on the nearest corner. Knowing too many people who have received jaywalking tickets, I called my friend back and we waited. The fellow appeared behind us and said, "I'm sorry I called ya'll bitches." Then the officers turned the corner. The driver of the squad smiles broadly and shouts "You could have crossed!" The fellow said, "You know what, you are bitches."

And then we jaywalked while the fellow muttered something incomprehensible about police officers.

I'm not the only one.

See.