For DeAnn

DeAnn asked me two questions which I've been meaning to answer and have not done so yet. So this post is for her. Think of it as another birthday present, DeAnn. I doubt highly that anyone could have topped this, a priceless post from myself (yes, yes, I am only kidding).

One - You asked me what I do. Other than providing endless bursts of laughter for everyone who I come into contact with, I also am a gleeful harbringer of joy as well and...oh, you probably meant what I do for a living, huh?

Okay, I am a frustrated author. I have started approximately six novels but have never finished them. I am toying with an idea now for one, which was inspired by a novel that I dared Beth to write. The problem is that I'll start something and then I never finish it because a) I get distracted easily (Squirrel!), b) I over-analyze everything that I write and rarely ever get more than a first chapter (but there's all these damn characters in my head with their lives! Why can't they get out and write their own lives?) and c) I'm lazy and have an aversion to hard work. Seriously. Blogging is more fun. But what publisher is going to pay millions of dollars to read about why my blog is called "Green Duckies and Other Tales of Dana"?

My real job is making fun of customers for a blog that Keem, Beth and I share called "Out of the Mouths of Morons" or Moron Mouth, as we have affectionately nicknamed it. Well, actually, that's just a fun benefit. I work for a bank. I used to work in the main banking call center, helping retail customers with their concerns and queries. Or, more accurately, I used to be a supervisor and listen to people yell at me. A LOT. Because, hey, did you know that it's our fault that they are overdrawn? The fact that they have no clue on how to balance an account is not considered at all. Nope. It's all our fault. We are the anti-Christ.

That, surprisingly enough, got to be a just a teeny bit stressful and I had to take a good look at my life. I said to myself "Self, this is crazy. You are killing yourself. Get out now!" So I did. I still love NABABNA (our nickname for our bank. We're not putting our real name because, remember, everyone hates us), it is a great company to work for so I looked for something a lot less stressful. This meant taking a demotion of sorts and going to another call center, just not for retail accounts. Now I deal with people investing in the stock market. If they get cranky and want to talk to a supervisor because, oh my God, their stocks lost money (who knew the stock market could be so risky? My goodness), I get to go find someone else to take the call. Plus, this call center is only five miles from home and on a bus route. Not that I'll take the bus but still, it's there.

Two - You asked about the relationship with our blogs. No, Keem, Matt and Beth are not my children (although I know they are laughing over this because I am old) but we joke about it.

Keem is my roommate. My female roommate. We have a male roommate named Jeff but he does not blog. She is like my sister and we hang out together, doing stuff, including getting haircuts.

Here's the story. We went to Great Clips. Keem had never been there so, when she gave her phone number and it was the same as mine, the assumption was made that she must have the last name as me. A few days later, we are at work, she pulls out the receipt and says, quite loudly, "Oh, my God, Dana. My receipt says Keem Jones (not my real last name but, for the sake of the story, pretend it is).

Mike overhead this and says "You know, if you want to get presents, you should really tell people when you're getting married." He meant it as a joke and kept backing up this joke by listening to us argue and deciding that Keem acts like my wife.

Now, while I support gay rights and think it is important that everyone be treated equally, I am not a lesbian. Neither is Keem. But Mike kept up with the jokes. After awhile, we started making them as well. Because, seriously, sometimes we do fight like a married couple. But she's just so damn bossy.

Meanwhile, Beth and Adam are roommates at the time. Beth refers to Adam as her little brother. Adam and I go to Great Clips one day and he gets a hair cut. A few weeks later, there is a coupon in my mail, addressed to Adam Jones. Keem and I laugh about this and decide to tell Mike about it, to see what he'll say. I am using this as proof that Keem and I are not married.

Does it work? No. Mike looks at the coupon and says "He's your illegitimate love child."

Well, that must mean that if Adam is my son and he is Beth's little brother, Beth is now my daughter. Beth also refers to Matt as her big brother. So Matt is now my son. And now I have grandchildren (who are very confused when Matt calls me Dad. I believe Ali said "But she's a girl.").

Recently, I told Larry (Firebear) that he was like my long-lost brother. Beth and Matt have started calling him Uncle Larry. And, the other day, I was writing a comment to Serial Angel and Keem asked who she was. My reply "Well, if you read my comments, you would think she was my daughter. Who lives in England and who I've never met." Keem's reply? "Oh. Okay." Beth and I were talking about The Lioness and I think we referred to her as our really cool cousin from Portugal. Or aunt. I don't remember.

So, while none of us are related by blood, there's a connection that goes deeper than that. This is my family. But, if you don't mind, while I may joke about Keem being my wife, I'd prefer to think of her as my sister. Thanks.

Previous Comments:

At 8:10 PM, Matt said...

Father,I am more now confused than ever, if you are referring to Mother as your sister, does that mean that my Aunt is really my Mother, and if that is the case then wouldn't that make Beth my Cousin? If so, then that must make me my own Grandpa.....Help Me, I'm Possessed! (Quick, what movie was that from?)

No wonder Alli acts like a boy, Vinnie is into scrapbooking, and Riley is starting his own faction of the junior Irish Republican Army....God help the worl when they reach legal drinking age.

Love,

You son (or would that be your nephew?),

Matt (or is that Billyjoejimbob?)

At 2:46 AM, DeAnn said...

I don't know if I'm more or less confused now!! ;)

Just kidding. Thanks for answers.

And also, I do kind of think banks are evil. No offense or anything. But I've been one of those people with the overdrawn account and I don't know WHY they have to make my life so hard by charging me $300 million dollars! That I cannot afford. But, you know what, if you go all the way to the top of the banking order you CAN get someone to overturn at least most of your fees.

However, I now have overdraft protection, which totally saves my butt. It's not that I don't know how to balance my check book. It's that I hate doing it, so I don't. I know about how much money I have and now I have a cushion. So, it all works out! Plus, I make more money now than I used to when I was overdrawn a lot. That helps.

At 8:42 AM, The Lioness said...

Stop fuddling w kinship rules you mad women and men, they'll come back to haunt you!Seriously, what is this Aunt thingy??? I'm disgusted. I'm older than Beth and younger than you. Theoretically, I could be your Aunt but have you gone completely batty??? I'LL BE A COUSIN THANK YOU VERY MUCH! Leave me out of the bloody mess. Good grief. Foreigners ARE insane.

At 1:23 AM, brooksba said...

Dana,I do think of the Lioness as our cousin. Except she's your cousin and my great cousin? How does that work?

Hmmm.

We already determined that Matt and I are adopted. That's why there's no blood relation. Sorry, still on that horrible kick.

I'll stop one of these days.

Your (adopted) daughter,

Beth

P.S. Watching my father and my brother sing a song about dating was a little strange last night.

Waking Keem Devine

Okay, couldn't resist the title. I've never seen Waking Ned Devine but it always seemed like it would be a funny movie. If you've seen it, let me know what you think.

Anyway, last night was Friday so that meant a trip to Fridleykins to see Beth and Matt. The festivities don't start until about midnight, since Beth works until 11:30, so Keem likes to take a nap before we go (We had a bit of an adventure yesterday before she was able to take her nap and here's the story. In other words, Keem! Blogged! Yay!). This puts me in charge of waking her up.

I don't mind doing this because this gives me time on the computer. Of course, there have been some problems. There's the time when she kicked me out because I was reading Matt's blog and laughing hysterically, as I usually do when I read his blog. If you haven't read it yet, you are missing some scary, scary, scary and hysterical stuff (Especially the tales of his kids, my grandchildren. Here's a good one. I'm sure we've detailed how they are my grandchildren somewhere but I can't remember where. If I don't remember where it is, I promise to repost it soon).

There is also the times when she yells at me because "You're clicking! Stop clicking!" Um, hello. Typing here? Usually once she falls asleep though, it's all good. I can type as much as possible and laugh, as long as it's quiet. Because Keem? She can be grumpy if she gets woken up. Or if she's convinced you didn't try to wake her up. Which I so did try but she can be quite stubborn.

Case in point - Last night. A couple of Fridays ago, she was extremely difficult to wake up but she is convinced I didn't try very hard because I just wanted to play on the computer and I don't understand her compulsion to be everywhere at least a half hour ahead of time (seriously. Did you know that movie theaters play a whole bunch of Coke commercials and music and movie clips for a good 20 minutes before they start the previews? And if you're there long enough, you'll get to watch it start over again! Oh, the excitement. Of course, you also do get the best seats in the house but that's not the point! Oh, yeah, I guess it is). So I wanted to make sure I tried extra hard to wake her up.

Here's a little time line of the evening.

10:15 - Typing away in Word, trying to make sure that I finish my post for Moron Mouth in time so I can publish it. Doesn't look like I'm going to make it because I keep reading everyone else's blog on my blogrolling list. But I'll keep typing.

10:30 - It's time to wake up Keem. I haven't finished yet but I'll save the document once she's awake. She is lying on her stomach, her face towards the foot of the bed (near the computer desk since she was talking to me before she fell asleep), one hand stretched out towards the end of the bed in supplication (trying to convince Eddy he wanted to be petted but he was being stubborn. Like it's a surprise that a cat is stubborn).

I lean over and start gently tapping her hand. "Keem. Keem. Wake up, Keem," I say softly.

She yanks her hand away. "Mrowff," is all I hear.

I start tapping a little harder on the hand. "Keem! Keem, come on. It's 10:30. It's time to get up." Whack! I stare in shock as she hits my hand (still in her sleep). "I take it you want another 15 minutes?"

"Mrwfffowwff." I'm taking that as a yes.

10:45 - It's time. She is now lying on her hand so I can't tap it anymore. I call her name. "Keem. Keem, it is time to get up. Get up, Keem."

"Fuck off!"

Okay, then. Well, I'm just going to let you sleep for another 15 minutes. Bitch.

11:00 - I've finished my post on Moron Mouth. It's time to try to wake her up again.

"Keem. C'mon, Keem, it's time to get up. Let's go, now!" My Mom would be so proud. I sounded just like her. Apparently Keem thought so as well.

"Moooommm! 5 more minutes."

I laugh. Can't help it.

11:05 - Keem is still sleeping.

"Kim (I'm tired of her rebellion. She is no longer Keem). It's time to get up."

"SNNNNNNNNNORRRRRRREEEEE!"

11:15 - Okay, one more try.

"Kim. It is time to get up. Let's go. Now."

Kim looks up. She is wearing her "I am pissed off at you now and you're going to get it" look. "Dana. I know. I will get up. In 5 minutes. And then I will go to the bathroom and get ready."

"Okay. I have been trying to get you up since 10:30. It's now 11:15."

"I know. I will get up. I am awake."

"Fine." I get up, leave the room. Dave Barry's last book "Tricky Business" is waiting for me. I check my cell phone voice mail. There's a message from Matt. I call him. He left a message asking me what we were getting for Beth's birthday.

"Hey. What did you get for Beth's birthday?" He tells me. "Yeah, you so didn't get the same thing as us." I tell him what we got her. She doesn't have it yet. It's at her mom's.

"Where are you?" Matt asks?

"Home."

"Oh." I can tell he's about to ask me if we're going to Perkins tonight.

"Keem is awake now." I've just watched her walk from her room to the bathroom. "We should be there at 12 or 12:15."

"Cool."

And that, my friends, is why waking Keem up is no picnic. But definitely blog worthy.

Previous Comments:

At 6:48 PM, DeAnn said...
OK, are Beth, Matt and Keem your children? I'm confused about the relationships on your blog now!

And also, there are at least two people in my family who are like that when waking up. I'm the exact opposite.

At 8:09 PM, The Lioness said...

Very fun, as you'd say! Plus, I am EXACTLY like Keem. Shame.

At 8:58 PM, angelia said...

This is hilarious. Thanks for making me laugh!

At 12:46 PM, Firebear said...

It used Waking Ned Devine in a training session once. You should see it, there is a seen were one of the oldier gentlemen is trying to pass himself off as Ned. He is in the bathroom with all of Ned's info, like his birth cert and id. He is being asked questions as proof of identity. He is just reading the info off the paperwork. It is a great example as to why we can never know 100% who we are talking to on the phone.

damn, i switched into work mode there. Maybe I should type "and the blonde in the movie had nice cleavage" that way you know its me!

At 1:24 AM, brooksba said...

Thanks for sharing this story! It was great hearing it at Perkin's and reading it here. I laughed both times!

Keem is silly.

Links Galore!

I once did a post about how bored I was and how I found this really cool website called candyboots and how there was...you know, here's the link. You can read it yourself. There's the candyboots link and also the scary lamb named Lambuel.

Anyway, today DeAnn (who is awesome and cool and if you haven't read her blog yet, you will suffer my wrath! Suffer! Bear with me, people of the internet, I'm having a weird day and have a headache, apparently it brings out my inner dictator) had the link for the test. How fun is that? See what I am? I think this is wrong because I answered it to the best of my abilities as The Queen of the Universe and this is what I get? Just because I said I would kidnap people? What the heck is this?


You are Rosy Perfection Salad!! Though your name
may be innocent and cheerful, your jello-sweet
exterior hides a foul, sinister core.

What Weight Watchers recipe card from 1974 are you?

Previous Comments:
At 4:28 PM, brooksba said...
DM, That is a scary, scary salad. I don't think it fits you. You're not scary. Looking forward to tonight! Beth
At 1:24 AM, DeAnn said...
You do have a rosy exterior, but I don't believe there's a sinister core. Although isn't it fun to say that you're "rosy perfection salad"? I think so. I LOVE saying I'm Caucasian Shashlik

That's it! I'm jealous now!

Okay, I need to have categories as well, I see. I'll have to do some major rework on my blog.

If you're bored, I do have a new post on Living Dew Free (why didn't I just name it that? Why?). And you may have missed the day of five posts, did you see the post about my Grandma? Or the vacation from hell? Did you? I need acknowledgement!

Ah, lunch is almost over. What a fun day. Two escalated calls, one right after another. Which brings me to another point, Keem did a post on Moron Mouth (Out of the Mouth of Morons). Did you read it? Did you? I need...I mean...Keem needs acknowledgement. Oh, let's face it, I love to read comments. I'm weak, I admit it.

Anyway, have a good day.

Previous Comments:

At 3:35 PM, brooksba said...
Hi DM,

I did comment on your grandma and the vacation from hell. They are good posts to read.

The link in this post to Living Dew Free doesn't work. I'm going to use your links on the side, but I didn't know if you wanted to change it.

Beth


At 6:34 PM, The Lioness said...
You can still change the name you know. And hurrah for categories!!! I haven't read your posts yet bcs I was categories-consumed and then had to catch up on work and I've just written a new post bcs i was so moved and it's half pat midnight and I MUST sleep so i'm saving you for tomorrow evening dahling bcs NO CLASSES ON FRIDAY and I promise i'll comment loads. Like i can help myself when you write, woman. (I DO think you're pretty. And I LOVE the dimpled chin! i don0t have any dimples. I do have a bit, tiny bit of freckles. Does it count? Say yes.)


At 2:44 AM, DeAnn said...
I love the comments, too, DM!! And I'm heading over to Living Dew Free soon. I check it almost every day, by the way. In case you need that kind of reassurance, too!


At 8:58 AM, CarpeDM said...
Yes. I am weak. A comment hog, if you will.


At 1:25 AM, brooksba said...
Where are your categories? I want them NOW!

Why I hate Spock but love Data

There's this guy. I know him only vaguely but he intrigues me. And I don't get it.

I don't know if I'm attracted to him or not. Keem and Beth will laugh because I have said I wanted to lick him and that obviously means I'm attracted but I don't know that it does.

I don't know if I like him or not.

He intrigues me. I think he may be an android. So I will, from now on, call him Data. Because I was oddly fascinated with Data from Star Trek: The Next Generation. I'm not sure why, especially when you think about how much Spock annoys me with all of his buzz harshing (believe me when I say you will not understand what I mean unless you read the post. I wouldn't lie about this).

Data was cool (STNG Data, not guy who I may or may not like). He wasn't human but he didn't let that stop him. He tried very hard to get in touch with his feelings, unlike most men. He was a good friend, even when he didn't understand the concept of friendship. He liked cats!

The non-STNG Data does not appear to have any feelings. Even when I looked up and found him staring at me. Several times. And there is a witness to this, I am not hallucinating. Seriously. I do not make stuff up. Okay, I make up a lot of stuff but not this.

And why am I giving him a fake name when I have blatantly announced my lust for Bobby's bar-tending skills? And where Bobby works? And how seductively he pours Diet Coke and water? Not that I am expecting Bobby to find my blog any time soon but he could and then I would have to explain that I am not a freak and will not be jumping over the bar anytime soon to attack him.

Anyway, there's this guy and I don't know if I like him or not. I sometimes think about licking his neck but that may be because I want to find out if he's an android or not. Not that I actually know what an android tastes like.

Am I the weirdest person you know? You can tell me.

Previous Comments:

At 4:33 PM, The Lioness said...
I so SO SOOOOOOOO like you!!! :DDDDD
At 7:22 PM, angelia said...
Dana, you are definately not the wierdest person I know, however, perhaps the most entertaining
At 7:33 PM, Firebear said...
Should i be worried that you compare a guy to two non-emotional characters?[I don't know if I'm attracted to him or not.]Sounds like yes, but conditional, maybe on whether he likes you.[jumping over the bar anytime soon to attack him.]i would have said bar hopping. Why? cause that is the way I think. And it sounds funny. [I sometimes think about licking his neck ]in a mother cat type of lick, like hey let me clean your neck. or a OMG I want to move my tongue up and down at the base of your skull, moving slowly to the front, brushing my lips across the skin, feeling your heart beat and biting just enough to cause a quick intake of breath or just a friendly, how are you doing lick of his neckthere is a difference. and if he is an android, he probaly would not do the intake of breath thing.[Am I the weirdest person you know?]no, you seem quite normal to me. I am glad to have meet you.
At 11:42 PM, Matt said...

Father,
Maybe it is because in a past life you were a deer, and he reminds you of your favorite salt lick in the middle of a forest, that you want to lick him, I am not sure. You are not the weirdest person I kn......ok yes you are one of them, but I do know someone weirder than you, and yes I will eventually blog about him. You will enjoy him, oh yes, you will enjoy him......Matt, aka Fester,aka Son, aka thewindowlickingcat, aka Whatever you feel like calling me
At 12:06 AM, brooksba said...
Dana, Dana, Dana,I think you do like him. You're at least intriqued and that's the beginning. You're not THE weirdest person I know. But then, remember where I used to hang out. Maybe I'm not a good judge about weird.Beth
At 11:49 AM, DeAnn said...
I do NOT think you're the weirdest person ever. In fact, I think you're kind of normal (although this is in comparison to me and I've been told I'm VERY weird, so take that as you will).

I was bad

So I went to karaoke on Sunday night, even knowing that I had not enough sleep and was not feeling particularly good (this is from the lack of sleep), because, hello, it is karaoke and it was for Beth's birthday and that is enough for me. Who needs sleep?

I had a good time. I always have a good time at karaoke because there is Beth and Bryan, our host, and Troy and Katie were there as well.

I also formulated a plan to kill the guy that touched Beth, if he would have come over and touched her again. The first time it happened, my reaction time was a little slow. Fortunately, he did get into a fight with his sister and left. After butchering Queen and Meat Loaf. For which he should also die. And why, why, why would you sing Paradise By the Dashboard Lights with your mother? Oh, my God. That is horrific.

Bobby was there and, as always, he poured the Diet Coke with a slice of lime and the Water with his manly hands. It was beautiful. Both Katie and Beth have seen the water and agree with me that it is quite sexy. I also must say that I was devastated that there was only one lime slice in my Diet Coke, this obviously means that Bobby no longer loves me. Sob. I am heartbroken (for the record, I am not pining away for Bobby. It amuses me to pretend that I have a thing for him. Which I do, a little, but not in the "Oh, he's the one" kind of way. More in the "Oh, my God, would you look at those hands" kind of way. Is that wrong?).

Then I went home and tossed and turned for four hours. My alarm went off and I stared at it and wept. Well, okay, I didn't actually cry but I wanted to. I told Keem I was not going to go to work, called my boss and then crawled back into bed. And did not get out of it until 2 PM. So, obviously, I needed the sleep. I felt like crap all day but today, I am feeling better.

And, for the record again, I did tell my boss that I went out on Sunday but that I hadn't been feeling good before that and that I also do not drink so he doesn't think it was a hangover. And he does not hate me, so that's good.

Beth, if you even think about feeling guilty that I didn't go to work, I will be forced to slap you. And then run screaming away when you, rightly, kick my ass. I am a slacker and I know it. I could have gone to work but I was just so tired and the sleeping felt so good. And there was another issue but we're not going there.

Previous Comments:

At 2:22 PM, Firebear said...
this is a great post on friendship. and a good "day in the life..." Maybe that's what I will do, a day in the life of Bear. I wonder if I can have it end with a fantasy cat fight like this one did!
At 2:50 PM, brooksba said...
DM,I'm sorry you didn't feel well. I do feel bad about you not going to work, even if it was your choice.Hey! You didn't go to work and you didn't BLOG!!!Did Keem go to work?Okay, bye!Beth
At 3:42 PM, CarpeDM said...
No, I slept all day. And then I was allowed a little time online where I got to look at maybe one or two blogs and then my sister called and I got kicked off and then I was not allowed to play anymore because it was dinner time and then I ate and then we watched tv and then I went to bed and slept some more and now I am all better. Keem went to work. She is not a slacker.
At 3:51 PM, brooksba said...
DM,Okay. I was just trying to determine how long you blogged yesterday. I want lots of posts!!!I can't believe I took days off of work. I'm going insane. Bye!
At 4:07 PM, The Lioness said...
I have categories!!!!!!! Easy to do but v time consuming AND aggravating bcs some of the links appear not to exist though everything is fine. ARGH! But I have categories!!! Hope you're rested. (Would you kill me if I said you look cute? *OUCH* And dimples are great!!!)
At 11:45 PM, Matt said...
Now I know where my slacker gene comes from...thank you for the post Father, it was great. Matt

I have Cleavage!

Lioness, just for you I will give a quick update and also justify my text. Beth and I went over to Catherine's today, hoping to find a shirt that would say, subtly, "Take me, Bobby!" And a good bra. I am bra challenged. I have breasts but they are, well, untamed. They like to roam free and this is probably my fault because I have been lacking in their training. This involves a whip and a good bra, two things I do not have.

Here's the thing. I'm overweight (well, duh) and there are not a lot of stores for me. I have a few choices, two, actually, between Catherine's and Lane Bryant. I know there are other places in the Twin Cities but these two stores are somewhat reasonably priced.

You will find that there are two styles of clothing for the overweight woman (Junoequse, Rubensesque, whateveresque), sedate, Grandma clothes or I'm a slut clothes. I went to the Grandma store tonight but did manage to find two nice shirts, one purple, one orange and a bra, while not the best, does harness the puppies and force them to stay in line. I have cleavage tonight. It may not stop men in their tracks but I know it is there and it feels damn good.

I wore the new bra out of the store and I must tell you, this is the first time I have ever been so aware of my breasts. They are uplifted and, dare I say, almost perky. My posture is better and I feel more confident. Who knew that you could get this feeling from a bra? Certainly not me.

So I don't know if anyone else will notice but I sure do. And while my cleavage may not show much in the purple shirt I'll be wearing tonight, I know it's there. Hopefully my new sense of power will not make me do crazy things like walk up to random men and say "Look! I have cleavage!"

Anyway, I must go and get ready for karaoke. There will be more to come.

Previous Comments:

At 8:31 PM, brooksba said...
Ah, the power of cleavage.Even if no one can see it, knowing that you are wearing a fun bra (or fun underwear - a must!), helps make you feel sexy and this in turn helps you present the inner power you have to the world.I recommend wearing fun underwear and bras to all women. We're going to have fun tonight!Beth
At 10:28 PM, The Lioness said...
What do you mean "fun"? i hope that's an euphemism for "NAUGHT" - naughty underwear is a must. Not that I have enough of it but I've lately been converted to thongs. They ARE actually comfortable. And as for the right bra, the right bra is an ABSOLUTE MUST and it does indeed lift more than just one's boobies! I'm vicarioulsy high too!Now get back in here and update on karaoke.
At 4:24 AM, DeAnn said...
I love that you think it's possible for "Take me, Bobby!" to be subtle.You're awesome.
At 1:05 PM, Firebear said...
MMMMMMMMMMMMMMM Cleavage!
At 3:10 PM, The Lioness said...
Oh, thank you!!! My own dedicated post - of sorts - and justified too! tell me, doesn't it look SO MUCH BETTER this way??? Yes it does!!!(Of course I meant NAUGHTY and not naught. Though that was rather funny since we were talking abt loads of cleavage!)

My God, why am I awake?

It is 1:30 PM. I have been up since 10 AM. Which, hey, not a big deal, except that I went to bed at 6 AM? Something like that.

Anyway, Beth's birthday is on Tuesday. Happy Birthday, Beth. Because it is her birthday, I agreed to come over last night at about midnight, after an exhausting day of sleeping, watching My Stepmother Is An Alien with Keem and then taking a nap and then going with my Mom and Kari to see Shall We Dance? (Which I loved. Because, hello, Richard Gere, Susan Sarandon and STANLEY TUCCI so outweigh Jennifer Lopez. And she wasn't that bad in it, mainly kept her mouth shut and looked mysterious). And then I got home, talked to Beth and took a nap.

We then came to her apartment where she did some homework, I continued to read the newest Nora Roberts book, Northern Lights. Let me explain something to you about Nora Roberts. She is such a good author that I now want to move to Alaska. And not just Alaska but scary, covered in snow for most of the year, the bush, Alaska. I am sure that once I finish the book I will not want to move to Alaska anymore and this is only caused by the fact that she writes descriptions so well that I have, while reading her books, wanted to move to Finland, Ireland (well, who can blame me for that), small Southern towns where it is very hot, New Orleans, New York and many other places. Fortunately all of my friends are here. Except for those friends that live elsewhere like England and Portugal and Michigan (Michigan being the most exotic of locations which is why it was listed last). Oh, and Oregon. Which I might actually move to someday because it is close to Seattle where it rains. A lot. I like rain, have I mentioned that?

I have not had time to post a lot lately and I have made up for that for writing three posts today, including this one, instead of sleeping like I should because Beth is going to wake up very soon and then we have to go and do stuff like go shopping and have dinner with her dad and then come back here and get ready for karaoke.

Normally, on Sundays, I get up at 10, go do stuff, talk to Beth about 4 or 5 about karaoke, she tells me she will call me when she leaves her dad's and I go and take a nap. Because I am old and I have to work the next morning. Where she is 11 years younger than me, works the night shift and has Mondays off.

That is not the case today. I woke up at 10 and told myself, okay, go blog for a little bit so Beth will have something to read because she has been waiting forever for you to finish a post. That obviously did not happen. So tonight I will be very tired but also having a great time because it is karaoke. Or, should I say, KARAOKE? Did I mention that I like karaoke and am so very, very tired?

Here is a map to The Chalet. You should go to The Chalet because it is karaoke and Bryan and there will be a CUTE BOY (Beth's capitalization, not mine) there and then there will also be Bobby, purveyor of Diet Coke with a slice of lime. And you could come and say Happy Birthday to Beth. I mean, really, people, isn't that reason enough? Keem is even going and she's not a karaoke lover. And I will be there and I have to work at 6:45 AM tomorrow. Why did I agree to the early shift? Oh, right, Keem did and I don't want to take the bus.

Anyway, hopefully there will be much excitement tonight and flirtation and longing stares across the bar at the bartender and fun and laughter and hopefully the laughter will not be because I have fallen asleep while singing. That would be bad.

Oh, and this morning, Beth and I watched Love Actually. I am filled with love for the entire world, particularly the small island that holds Colin Firth, Rowan Atkinson, Hugh Grant and Liam Neeson and Alan Rickman.

Anyway, ciao. See you later. I love you (hey, I told you, Love Actually. I love everyone. Be warned). Hopefully, I will not say this to Bobby when he gives me my Diet Coke with a slice of lime.

Previous Comments:

At 2:52 PM, brooksba said...
KARAOKE!!!CUTE BOY!!!I am quite excited. Sleep is good, I'm sorry you didn't sleep more. Now you are looking like you're going to fall asleep.You'll need to tell me about the vampire dream that you don't remember.We need to find you that "Take me Bobby! I love water!" shirt for you to wear tonight.
At 5:47 PM, The Lioness said...
OK, I am now cursing even more than usual bcs of the time difference and the hours it will take till I FIND OUT what happened!!!As for Bobby, JUST SAY IT and pretend it's water poisoning. (I have a new template! Didn't work at all today bcs it took me ALL BLOODY AFTERNOON but I am now happy.)

The Vacation From Hell

A couple of weeks, when I had been feeling so awful with the stomach flu, I realized that I've felt this way before. I was reminded of the time my family tried to kill me. Okay, that may not have been their actual intention but you can never tell with my clan.

So the decision was made that we would go to Mexico one year. I must emphasize that this was not my decision. I was not consulted. Or, if I had been, my vote would have been rejected. My mother and sister thought this would be fun. Apparently, they forgot something extremely important to be considered when planning vacations involving me - I hate heat. The perfect temperature for me is between 50 to 70 degrees.

So Mexico? Yeah, really not my kind of place. This is reason number one as to why this was the vacation from Hell.

Reason number two. Lucky girl that I am, I have inherited a grab bag of mental and physical anomolies from my parents, bless them. From my mother, I received a lovely chemical imbalance that triggers either manic behavior or depression. Oh, and it's not just being bi-polar. No, that would be too easy (if this could be termed as easy).

I had a therapist explain it to me once (if only I would have met him before this trip) - what I have is not typical bi-polar syndrome with highs and lows. What I get is long periods of low (several days, weeks, once it was for six months before the depression broke) and then I'll have a manic episode which might last anywhere from 15 minutes to one day. Then, once the manic episode is over, the realization of what I have done hits and I am back in the depression. Doesn't that sound like fun? So, instead of my mom who is up down up down up down up down up down, I traveled on a roller coaster of small hills and huge valleys - dooooooooooooooooooown up dowwwwwwwwwwwwwn up downnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn. It sucks.

Anyway, back to reason number two. Right before I left on the trip, a friend of mine at the time decided he wanted to go to the casino. I went with him and thought, "Hey, wouldn't it be lovely if I could win a lot of money for my trip." The casino gods were not smiling on me. After losing $200, most people would stop there. I am not most people. These people are sane and not capering around the casino thinking "Oh, it's okay. I'll just take some more money out of the account." For the record, my friend did try to stop me. However, short of hitting me over the head and dragging me away, at that point, nothing would have worked.

Surprise! I lost. All of my money earmarked for my trip. I walked out of the casino with $5. That's how much money I went to Mexico with, $5. Mom and Kari? Not so thrilled when they found out.

Reason number three. The trip itself. The entire trip was possessed by this demon cloud that hovered over me and said "Oh, no, this vacation is going to suck. Hahahahaha!"

Let's just go over this, shall we? Reasons why my vacation was horrific.

1. The afforementioned reason number one - I don't like heat.
2. I had no money.
3. We were traveling via Moon Continent (ooh, if you try, you might be able to figure out their real name). Otherwise known as Small Charter Plane Company that Hates Fat People (and, just for the record, my mother, a petite woman at 130, was complaining that the seats were too tight. So you can just imagine how comfortable it was for me). Imagine my embarrassment in having to ask for an extension to the seat belt. Go ahead. Imagine. It was fun. However, we were in the first row and I only had to fold myself into the seat for a short time, once we took off I was allowed to sit on the floor in the large opening in front and was probably the most comfortable person on the plane since I actually had leg room. Since Moon Continent is also known as the Cram As Many People On To The Plane As Possible Company. While my sister and mom complained about how uncomfortable they were and I got many envious looks as people walked by.
4. I had never flown before. There's a few reasons for that, such as the fact that oh, I'm not so good with the money management or oh, I'm horribly afraid of heights or oh, I have watched one too many movies on plane crashes and was filled with a horrendous sense of doom. So turbulence was expected and yet, I still managed to shriek, Oh God, we're going to die! Or maybe that was just in my head.
5. The heat. Oh, my God, the heat. We left Minneapolis in a brisk 40 degree day. We got off the plane in Mexico and I was slapped, no, punched in the face with 90 degrees. At 10 freakin' o'clock. With that evil bastard Humidity doing a rhumba on my lungs (did I mention that I have asthma? And that there are a few things that will set off my asthma? Extreme heat. Extreme cold (And yet, I still continue to live in Minnesota where I am only truly happy with the weather in the Spring and the Fall. Huh). Walking up hills or stairs. Mexico, just for the record, is a very hilly country. Or at least the part I saw.
6. Customs. All I wanted to do is get to the resort and take a cold shower and go to bed. But no, we still had to go through Customs. So I picked up my suitcase and my mom's and hurried through the checkout and outside. And there I waited, because my mother was one of the people who was selected to have the bag she was carrying searched. It wasn't until both she and Kari joined me outside that I learned my mother was a law breaker. The suitcase I had picked up was the one she smuggled food in. Great. My mom the rebel.
7. We get to the resort and find out that our suite in the new resort section is not yet ready. It had to be painted that day. It is here, in the lobby of the resort, that I met the first reason why the trip wasn't so bad. It is here that I met Omar. The incredibly gorgeous Mexican concierge who was tall and dark and who had teeth that could light up a room without lights. Who looked at me like I was the most beautiful woman in the world and completely ignored everyone else to make sure I was okay. Even the pretty blonde in the bikini who was flirting with him like mad. Ah, Omar. I still think I should have asked him to marry me and come home to America with me.
8. We get to the room in the hotel section of the resort where they are putting us up for the night at no extra charge. I wander out to the balcony and there I see reason number two as to why the trip wasn't so awful, the ocean. The moon glinted off of the water in the distance and there was a cool breeze, I felt actually human again.
9. The next day, we went to our suite in the new resort section. And walked into hell. Yeah, the painting they told us they did? No, that was a lie. Unless people typically paint with insecticide. The fumes from the bug spray hung in the room like smoke, you could actually feel it on your skin. I am allergic to only a few things but one of them is certain smells, like fresh paint or insecticide. I started itching like crazy. And then I walked out onto the balcony and realized we were no longer overlooking the ocean. We were on the golf course side. There was no cool breeze from the ocean.
10. Apparently, I snore. Because of this, Kari and Mom slept in the master bedroom. I got the pull out couch in the living room. Not particularly comfortable.
11. I'm not sure what day of the trip this was but Kari wanted to go to the store. I agreed to go with her because I had no money and if I wanted anything, I had to do what she wanted. So when she said "Do you really think we need to call the shuttle service?" I said no, I'm sure I could make it up the hills (actually, I do think I whined a little but gave in). I did not get very far, up to the top of hill number one, when the asthma attack began. I bent over, trying to catch my breath and failing miserably. Kari panicked. "Where is your inhaler," she asked. My response was "Back...gasp...back...wheeze...in...choke...the...gasp...room." "Do you want me to go get it?" "Yes!" Kari looked down the hill and back at me. Realizing that if she went back to the room and up the hill again, she would probably be breathing like me. "Do you really need it? Maybe if you sit down..." I sat down. Slowly I began to breathe again. "Next time," I told her. "We take the shuttle!" It took us close to an hour to make it to the store.
12. There was no Mountain Dew. None. How can you not have Mountain Dew? As those of you who have read my other blog Is There Life After Mountain Dew? know, for many years, Mountain Dew was, to me, ambrosia, elixer of life, sweet nectar of the gods. And there was no freakin' Mountain Dew! It is then Kari told me that, when she had been to Cancun a few years ago, they were just starting to get Mountain Dew in that part of Mexico. I looked at her sadly. "And yet, we came here." After a brief stop at the lobby for a glimpse of Omar (I'm sure there was something else we were doing but hey, was it more important than Omar and his beautiful smile? No), we were on our way back.

After this, I am not sure of the chronological order of our journey. Things start to get a little blurry. So these following reasons of vacation = hell may get a little disjointed. I apologize.

1. Okay, this is supposed to be reason 13 but it won't let me change the number. Sorry. My mother had agreed to tour the resort when she arranged this vacation. Kari and I got to go with to make sure she did not actually buy another time share. Part of the tour was to partake in a glorious Mexican breakfast. There was a buffet set up. Here we come to a slight problem. I like food. I like Mexican food. However, there is one thing I do not like. I hate tomatoes. They are evil in their redness and mushiness. Everything on this buffet had tomatoes on it. Everything. I think I managed to find a tiny little muffin that escaped the showering of tomatoes and ate that. Plus the lemons were green. How could I possibly eat in a country that has green lemons and worships tomatoes?
2. After the breakfast portion of the tour, we go on the walking around a great lot of building portion of the tour. Up and down hills. Hills! Here, there and everywhere!
3. Then it's time for the Let's try and suck great sums of money out of you portion of the tour (ah, the things you will do to save $200 on a vacation. I've sat through quite a few of these speeches, starting when I was much younger and we drove up to some place in Northern Minnesota (Brainerd? Duluth?) to look at empty, weed-filled lots so my parents could get a free television). We were in this small room where there were many people and there was a radio playing salsa music. Loudly. I hate salsa music (Mainly because salsa has tomatoes in it. Which, yes, I realize is incredibly irrational but seriously, how long have you been reading my blog? Have I ever been a rational person?). And then people were yelling to be heard over the salsa music. Here's a thought. Turn the radio down. I developed a bit of a headache. With what was to come, this was the least of my worries.

And then we come to reason number two as to why Mexico was not so bad. I mentioned the ocean before, right? Seeing it glinting in the moonlight on our first night there? Well, I finally met the ocean face to vast mass of water. It was wonderful. I mentioned in The Seduction of Water that I am quite fond of water. Here I entered into a beautiful love affair with the ocean...no, I'm sorry, this can only be called THE OCEAN (such as Beth writes about THE BOY). THE OCEAN and I loved each other. I dragged my beach chair to the edge of THE OCEAN and sat there, letting the waves splash over me. I DIDN'T EVEN READ! This should tell you how much I loved THE OCEAN, that I would put myself in a position of not being able to read since the many books I brought on this trip would have been ruined. I swam in THE OCEAN and THE OCEAN bathed me in THE OCEAN's cool waters and I felt free and alive and loved and glorious. I swam deliberately into waves and let THE OCEAN carry me to the shore again and again and again. THE OCEAN and I were one. Our hearts would go on (sorry, couldn't help it). I loved THE OCEAN and THE OCEAN loved me. And then I seriously pissed off THE OCEAN and THE OCEAN tried to kill me.

Ways THE OCEAN tried to arrange my death:

1. Convincing me to sit out in the Sun for hours, without suntan lotion. I was quite red at the end of the day.
2. Picking me up in a gigantic wave and smothering me and rolling me over and over again in the pale blue green arms of THE OCEAN and hurling me into the ground where I smashed my knee on the only rock for miles around.
3. Convincing my sister that it would be a good idea to go a boat trip to a small island in the middle of THE OCEAN where you could go snorkeling or scuba diving.
4. Convincing my sister that a small, rickety boat that smelled horribly of gasoline was a perfectly reasonable form of transportation. I held my breath the entire time, convinced that I was going to die and there would be nothing left of me except blood stained remains of my festive tropical flowered dress that, as someone at the Dark Side bank so lovingly pointed out, made me look like a bad 70's couch.
5. Turning my silly no suntan lotion mistake into full-blown sunburn, with the side effect of nausea. And believe me when I say that the gasoline smell did not help matters.
6. Having a gigantic sign on the beach that warned of the dangers of actually touching the coral. Apparently there are small creatures that live in THE OCEAN who take a complete and utter joy in watching the coral cut you and then crawling inside to inhabit you and then there's no way to get it out.
7. Letting me sit on the beach of the small island in the middle of THE OCEAN where the people sitting next to us asked to see the menu and the waiter brought out a tray of dead fish. There was octopus on the tray. And then he asked me if I wanted to look at the menu and put it under my nose and I threw up on the menu. Okay, I didn't throw up but I WANTED TO!
8. Convincing me that it would be fun to go walking on the beach, except this beach did not have fine granules of sand but sharp, evil shards of shells that cut into my feet. But I desperately needed to get away from the menu.
9. Convincing Kari that it would be fun to go snorkeling and that I should go with her.
10. Providing me with a snorkeling mask that did not fit properly (Okay, I really can't blame THE OCEAN for that) and leaked.

And then I swam in THE OCEAN again and the pain from my sunburn was soothed and it was beautiful to look at the coral and the small fishes swimming (swim, small fishes, swim! Avoid the menu!) but then a fish would swim up directly to my face, possibly to commune with me, since I am a Pisces after all, and I would be shocked and inhale sharply and swallow water from THE OCEAN. This is not recommended.

I would stop to clear out the snorkel mask and, of course, this would always happen directly over a coral reef. So I would lie on my back and try to clear out the mask and then the waves would come crashing in and I would be frightened that I would touch the coral reef and be inhabited by the small creatures and I spent a half hour alternating between absolute awe and absolute terror.

And then, while I was trying to find Kari, I saw a whole bunch of people. Coming from further out in THE OCEAN. Where were they coming from? Were they merpeople? No, they were snobby rich people who had got off of their yacht and decided to swim to shore and not take into consideration that there were people in their path and they swam over me. Let me make that perfectly clear. Snobby rich people SWAM OVER ME! Like I was not even there. One of them kicked me in the stomach. I am not a small person. How the hell did they not see me?

I don't even really remember the ride back on the small rickety boat. That was my last time on THE OCEAN. I have not yet seen THE OCEAN again and I'm not sure if THE OCEAN is still contemplating revenge or has forgiven me for whatever I did. I would certainly hope so since THE OCEAN was not quite done with me.

Remember how I mentioned the muffin? And the food my mother smuggled into the country? Yeah, I didn't do a lot of eating on this trip. Everything tasted weird. Now, I am not afraid to try new things but I seriously think that I was possibly coming down with a cold and so everything had this weird aftertaste. Or that could possibly be because of the insecticide room. I know that we went to a restaurant called Senor Frog's where I tried to eat barbeque ribs and couldn't. I wanted to die. Kari and Mom sent me back to the resort in a cab where I sobbed all the way back since I felt so nauseous.

The next day, I think it was two days before our trip ended, I woke up in the worst pain I had ever experienced. Imagine, if you will, that someone has taken your stomach and tried to cut it out of your body. Using a spoon. And you are gripped in a fever that makes you think you are cold and so you drag blanket upon blanket onto yourself. And it is at least 90 degrees in the room. This is about as graphic as I'm going to get so let me just say, I have walked in the valley of the shadows and it is called Montezuma's Revenge. If I wasn't throwing up I was...never mind. I think we've all been here at one point in our life. Where we are so sick that you begin begging your mother to "Just put the damn pillow over my face, woman, is it too much to ask that you just kill me now!" Actually, I'm not really sure I actually said that. It may have been a fever induced dream. I am pretty sure I did ask her to shoot me.

Kari and Mom were real troopers, though. They dealt with the wasting illness quite well, stocking me with Pedialyte and Gatorade (two of the nastiest liquids on the planet) while they went off and explored Mexico without dragging me along complaining about "The heat, oh my God, the heat, why is it so hot here?"

Our last day, we had to vacate the room even though our flight didn't leave until much later. I was set up in the overflow room, with the Pedialyte and Gatorade and a real find, a copy of a Perry Mason novel by Erle Stanley Gardner. I love Perry Mason and am working on collecting all of the novels but there are 82 of them. I believe the book in question was this one but I'm not sure. Mom and Kari went off shopping. I was left, sitting on the bed, wanting to die, being tormented by small children watching something horrible (quite possibly Barney).

Then it was time to leave. There was one last stop at the lobby where Omar came over to speak to me. I remember him on one knee, looking up into my eyes, assuring himself that I was not going to die on him, that our love, like our hearts, would go on. He touched my hand softly and was gone. And I was too sick to clasp him into my arms and beg him to come back to Minnesota with me. Damn it.

Back to the airport. We spoke quite firmly to mother that she was not going to smuggle papaya into the US. Back through Customs. Back onto the Moon Continent plane where we could not get the front row because someone beat us to it. However, we were able to sit over the wing where the seats were just a bit roomier and I, since I had not really eaten the entire trip, fit quite comfortably. I still wanted to die and everything but hey, at least my hips didn't need to be sliced off to fit.

We got to the airport and I was looking forward to getting off the damn plane when the announcement came over the PA. "This is your pilot, folks. Apparently, there was a problem with a plane coming out of Cancun. A tourist, who got extremely drunk, needed to be taken off the plane, along with her luggage. That has delayed their arrival and now, there are three planes in front of us. Sorry." This, of course, was relayed in a perky, aren't we having fun now, tone. Soon after, there was the following announcement.

"Gosh, folks, sorry about the delay. The crew and I were talking and we thought it would be really fun to do some calisthenics. Okay, all together now. Let's touch our toes. And one, two."

I turned to Mom and said "I'm going to kill him. And there is not a jury alive who will convict me." The guy sitting in front of us heard this and laughed shortly. "You go for it, girl. I'll back you up. He's asking for it." Actually, that might have been a fever-induced hallucination as well.

We finally straggled off the plane and got through Customs and found our way outside where I was embraced by the coolness that is March in Minnesota. A brisk 40 degrees waited for me. It felt wonderful. Eric, my brother-in-law, was waiting patiently for us. At the time, he was Kari's boyfriend. I have never been so happy to see someone in all of my life. Especially when, at my request, he stopped at Super America and bought me a Mountain Dew. Ah, sweet elixer of life.

This was not the end of the Vacation From Hell, though. No, I had already been off of work for a week and then there was the recuperation period, where my doctor figured out that, when I drank a gallon or two of water from THE OCEAN, part of that water had probably had a small parasite. He put me on the BRAT diet. That would be Bananas, Rice, Applesauce and Toast (Dry toast). I don't particularly like any of those foods (well, rice and toast except there was not any butter allowed so screw that. I just won't eat, dang it). For an entire week, I lived on Gatorade Lemon Ice (the only Gatorade that I like. Which they don't make anymore. The Watermelon Ice is pretty good though). I bought Super America's entire supply. Imagine trying to walk up to a counter carrying 8 32 ounce bottles.

Then, after the parasite was battled, I was able to return to work. For one day. Then I got hit with the worst case of bronchitis I have ever had. I was out of work for another two weeks. This supposed week's vacation ended up taking a month of my life in the most painful ways possible.

I look back at this now and there is much I would have done differently. But even to this day, the thought of Omar makes me smile and I remember floating in the waters of THE OCEAN, blissfully at peace with the world. It is these memories that keep me from screaming "Hell, no!" every time Mom and Kari start making vacation plans.

Perhaps I will tell you sometime about how I went to Vegas when Kari and Eric got married and how I spent the majority of the trip in the room, on the pull out couch, wanting to die.

Previous Comments:

At 2:53 PM, brooksba said...
DM,How come you seem to get sick when you go on vacation with your family, but you were fine in Vegas? Ah, Vegas.I enjoyed your tale of THE OCEAN and I feel for you for the rest of the vacation from hell. Beth
At 3:53 PM, The Lioness said...
Look, I may be a shitty person bcs I laugh at your misery but if you want sympathy you NEED to start writing differently. That's all i have to say. I really am still laughing, even as I tupe. (Were you the anon???)
At 9:09 PM, CarpeDM said...
Um, you're supposed to laugh. Do you seriously think I would write like this if I didn't want you to laugh? Actually, if you didn't laugh, I would be sad. Do you want me to be sad? Believe me, you'll know when I don't want you to laugh.

Cloud In A Pudding

This post is about my grandmother and memories I have of her. I have chosen to focus on two particular areas of my memories, involving food and reading. There are others, like the time I heard my grandmother swear for the first and only time, but I will save them for another day.

There are some things that I will see or smell or hear and I instantly remember a time where all my problems were solved by being in the kitchen of the most wonderful woman in the world. This is not surprising because my grandmother, my mother's mother, was the most wonderful cook in the world.

Grandma has been gone for many years now but I still feel her presence near me sometimes. I saw her when I looked at my mother last night, in her smile. During a car accident that could have been fatal, I felt someone grab my shoulders and hold me back so I did not go through the windshield when I stupidly did not wear a seatbelt (yes, I wear one all the time now). I think it may have been her. Which is why I almost ended up in the psych ward that day when I arrived at the hospital. The nurse asked if I wanted them to call someone and the first words out of my mouth was "Yes. My grandmother." They asked for her phone number and I rattled it off and then said "Yeah, but she won't be able to come. She's dead." They then started checking me for a concussion I didn't have.

Grandma would make pot roast for us. With carrots and prarsnips (my favorite vegetable. Brussel Spouts are second) & mashed potatoes and gravy made from scratch.

She understood my love of reading. Since we couldn't afford to get the paper, she would save the comics page for me, sometimes with coupons cut out of the middle of Bloom County. I always had something to read at Grandma's. She had a bookshelf that was filled with encyclopedias and encyclopedia sized books of different types of literature (fairy tales, poems, great stories & plays. I wish I could remember the name of the series. I would look for them for Josh (my nephew)). I read Shakespeare for the first time at my grandmother's. I think it was The Tempest.

She had board games galore. I remember Monopoly, Cooties, Parcheesi, Scrabble and many more. We watched the Price Is Right together and my grandmother told me Bob Barker was the sexiest man on television (this was probably twenty years ago).

For my birthday, she would bake a cake for me that I still love - it was made with Jiffy yellow cake mix. She would make the cake and then top it with crushed pineapple, Cool Whip & crushed walnuts.

I remember being over her house one day & it was lunch time. She had not been shopping and did not have a lot of food in the house. It was a good thing Kari (my sister) was not there because, when she decided to make me a sandwich, she was out of white bread. She asked me if I was willing to try something new and I agreed. It was the first time I had ever tasted Pumpernickel. The sandwich was butter smeared Pumpernickel, Farmer's Cheese (very mild white cheese) and, the piece de resistance, Sweet Gherkins that were thinly sliced. I had one yesterday for lunch. I tried it with Sweet Pickle relish. It's not quite the same but still good. It is one of my favorite sandwiches (the other would be boloney & peanut butter which nobody understands but it's actually quite good. I tried it when we couldn't aford any other type of luncheon meat but boloney (which I'm not overly fond of). Peanut butter works with the taste of boloney and makes it less, well, the only word I can think of it boloney tasting).

She would make shakes for Kari and I using an actual shake machine, such as seen in 50's diners (I thought that was so cool). There was always ice cream in her freezer and she would constantly experiment with different flavors.

When Jello Pudding & Cool Whip started their Pudding in a cloud campaign, she would make it for Kari and I. She would never make it with instant pudding though, she preferred to make the cooked kind (the one that always had a skin on the top. Kari would never eat the skin so Grandma would remove it for her. I liked the skin) and would pour it into cups or bowls lined with Cool Whip, making the cloud.

One day I asked her for "Cloud in a pudding." She laughed indulgently & made it for me. All she did was top the pudding with the Cool Whip but to me it tasted just a little bit different. It tasted of love.

This week, when grocery shopping, I bought a roast. When I make it, I will think of my grandmother and how much I loved her and still do love her. I think it is time to introduce my grandchildren (Matt's kids, long story) to the joy of Shakespeare. Riley's 6 now. It's time. I may have to choose the prose version but it's still Shakespeare.

Previous Comments:

At 10:30 AM, Firebear said...
Wow, this is very nice!
At 2:50 PM, brooksba said...
DM,This is a great story of love and your grandma. I liked reading about how sweet of a woman she was. You are lucky to have known her.Thank you for sharing.Beth
At 9:12 AM, The Lioness said...
Your Grandmother sounds absolutely lovely. I haven't even met YOU but here I am sitting thinking I wish I'd met HER.

Is this week over yet?

I am tired. Tired and cranky and sick of customers. Which is not good, since I just started taking calls on Tuesday.

Okay, maybe not sick of customers but how about sick of trying to answer questions and half-knowing the answers. I am used to being the person who knew all the answers! Or at least knew where to find them. But this will come with time, I know. Anyway, the majority of work is great. We are possibly moving to our desks today and I am very excited about that. Because I will have email! Email! I have missed it so.

Here's the plan for the weekend. Possible movies tomorrow with Keem. It has been a long time since we've done a double feature so I am hoping to do that. Then the queens come out to play and it's a trip to Fridleykins to meet Beth and Matt to play Sheepshead. Yay! Then it's my mom's last week here so I want to spend some time with her so we will be doing something on Saturday. I don't know what yet. I am sure it will be fun. And then, magically, Sunday will appear and it's time for karaoke! Yay again! I am very excited.

My fortune cookie today said "You are interested in public service and would make an oustanding statesman." Huh. If I'm already the Queen of the Universe, why would I want to be involved in politics? Silly fortune cookie.

Anyway, have fun. I'm still working on those posts I promised but it's been busy here and we're having computer problems at home. Sadness.

Previous Comments:

At 2:31 PM, Firebear said...
Rule #1 on fortune cookies, to make sure they are always good, add "in bed." to the end of it.
At 1:38 AM, DeAnn said...
I'm not even sure that I know what you do. Can you tell us?And I want the week to be over, too, actually, because next week I get to go to the Shakespeare Festival again! Yay!
At 2:03 AM, brooksba said...
DM,I am also waiting for this week to be over. I am looking forward to having the Queens come out to play at Fridleykins Friday night. I miss you and Keem! Lots!By the way, everyone at work loved the fact that you left me a message that pretty much sounded like, "Hi, it's me. Look! A squirrel! Keem's mean to me. Talk to you." And then you gave her the phone. I miss you. I'm looking forward to Sunday as well. You're still coming to dinner right? I want to go to karaoke!I feel bad, George is playing Sunday, but I can't not go to karaoke. I NEED to go. Conflict = sadness. =(Talk to you tomorrow!Did you do the wireless commercial on here yet? I don't remember it. I want to have it up NOW. Please? *Asking very nicely and giving you big eyes look (which may or may not resemble a child).*
At 6:38 AM, CarpeDM said...
Silly Beth. Stop with the big eyed look. It is not needed. No, I forgot about the wireless commercial. Okay, I have 3 posts I need to finish. I am working on them. I may have time tonight.

Stop the Presses! Breaking News!

October 20th, 2004
St. Paul, MN

Today Dana, Queen of the Universe, stood on her podium in the cold and announced her retirement from the blogging world. Apparently, an anonymous blogger informed her that she was fat. Stunned by this revelation, living as she has in a world completely devoid of mirrors, clothing measurements and interested bystanders who would point this out for her own good, Ms. Dana was devestated.

"I never knew," The Queen of the Universe stated in a tear-choked voice. "All this time, I had thought I was thin. If I have learned anything from this experience, it is to be grateful to Anonymous for telling me. How have I gone this long without being aware of this?"

For the record, if anyone has any doubts about the above statement, this is sarcasm.

Let me tell you something, Anonymous or Kisses, however you choose to be known, that if you think for one moment that your comments hurt me in any manner, you are a fool. Maybe in my past, when I made bad choices and hung out with people who thought it was cool to make fun of me, this would have set me back for days, if not months. However, I am not that person anymore. I am not that weak little girl who let herself be taken advantage of day after day. I have friends who care about me and think I am awesome, as is apparent from the comments left on both posts. And I think they are just as awesome.

So you have some choices to make here. You can continue to post your little barbs and hope that you're finding a sensitive spot, you can come forward and tell us what your real name (but I'm thinking you won't) or you can go away and play teleprompter with someone else.

Just so you're clear here, I don't really give a damn what you do. You are beneath me. If you are who I think you are, you have always been beneath me. Here's some information for you. Your comments, while juvenile and pathetic, merely amuse me. That's why I haven't deleted them. But, again, let's be clear. I'm the one with the power in this situation. If I want to, your comments can be deleted. So, really, why even bother? No one cares what you have to say.

Previous Comments:

At 4:12 PM, Firebear said...
Oh wait are we still talking about this kid? LOL Good post, and if i really thought you were quitting blogging, i would have to come over that and straighton you out!
At 4:44 PM, The Lioness said...
You go girl! (That first part was hilarious!)
At 6:13 PM, Anonymous said...
Hilarious? Ha ha. I remember using sarcasm when I was 12. I felt real clever back then.No one cares what I have to say? I have 1,2,...14,15 pages of text that say otherwise. Y'all do go on, don't you?I can safely say that this is the single most amusing thing to me in the last five minutes. You make me giggle with your "outrage".- Kisses
At 6:48 PM, angelia said...
Dana,I want you to know a lot of people don't judge others by their appearance or come to the conclusion of their character based on ignorant sterotypes. I know who you are as a person, and you are wonderful, I am so thankful that I can call you my friend.
At 12:00 PM, CarpeDM said...
Thanks, Ang, you rock. I am glad to call you my friend as well!
At 2:04 AM, brooksba said...
Dana,I enjoyed this post. I think you are strong and wonderful. You are one of my heroes.

Anonymous? Friend Or Great Big Chicken?

You (meaning all of my faithful readers) will remember this post about why I was not overly impressed with George Bush in the last debate.

There was a bit of friendly fire between Troy and I. He has not yet come to his senses and embraced Blogger totally so he still posts anonymously. We are friends so I accept that he is a Republican but still like him. He calls me a hippy liberal. I am okay with this. I have also, on more than one occasion, hugged a tree.

I am wondering if this comment was left by Troy (or, perhaps Donovan? See? Some of my friends are Republicans). Usually he leaves his name at the end but maybe he forgot this time. Here's the comment:

"Well, you haven't convinced me that George Bush is an idiot.You have convinced me, quite elegantly, that someone else is...You."

I'm assuming it's from one of my friends and we'll laugh about it later because, if I am anything, it is certainly elegant.

But if you are not one of my friends, Anonymous, if you stumbled onto my blog and thought "Oh, I don't like this person's blog, I must comment" can I just make a suggestion? How about you don't next time? If I read someone's blog and I don't like their political views, I don't read their blog anymore.

Oh, and just for the record, Anonymous, I'm not trying to convince you of anything. You do what you have to do. If that includes voting for a man who led us into war through deception and thinks that homosexual marriage would make heterosexual marriage less sacred (yeah, 'cause the institution of marriage is just so holy what with all the frickin' divorce!), then go for it. It's your right. But at least have the guts to leave your name.

Previous Comments:

At 9:26 PM, brooksba said...
Hello,If the person who called you an idiot is out there reading this, then I suggest that person get a frickin' life!If it is Troy or Donovan, I imagine it was in jest, but I don't see either of them calling you an idiot for having beliefs. This country is built on the premise that people can have different view points. You posted on YOUR BLOG your opinion of our commander-in-chief and that is completely fine. It's YOUR BLOG!I personally agree with you, I dislike the president's actions over the last four years. Does that mean I think people are stupid just for liking him? No. Obviously I don't. Troy and Donovan are two of the smartest men I've EVER met. They just have different viewpoints.I am not strictly liberal or strictly conservative. I have strong beliefs about one issue (and it's not even the war) and this is why I will be voting Democratic in this election.Oh, I'm on a vant now. I'm sorry for the long comment. I just had to hop on the soapbox for a moment. By the way, thanks for posting! I was going insane.
At 9:38 PM, Anonymous said...
"I'm assuming it's from one of my friends and we'll laugh about it later because, if I am anything, it is certainly elegant."If you are anything, it is actually, what we like to call in the business, FAT.- Your Mother
At 10:24 PM, Anonymous said...
Dana,I can assure you that I did not post that. Also, I do not believe Donovan knows your web address, so I doubt it was him either. Sounds like you have a Great Big Chicken on your hands. I do post as anonymous becuase I dont have a blog, but I will always sign my name to anything I write.Troy
At 10:28 PM, brooksba said...
Okay, forgive me Dana for having possibly the longest comment I’ve ever done on a blog, but I feel this deserves it.I was trying to be nice before and just stating that I figured the post was not from Donovan or Troy because neither of them are as cocky, arrogant, and both understand the power of words. They understand the importance of using intelligent conversation to express their viewpoints and keep personal attacks out of political views.First off,"Well, you haven't convinced me that George Bush is an idiot. You have convinced me, quite elegantly, that someone else is...You."Here is today’s lesson in English.Elegant (-ly): having dignified richness and grace, as of MANNER, design, dress, etc. I think the word you were looking for and could not form in your mind was:Eloquent (-ly): vivid, forceful, fluent, etc. in speech or WRITINGJust from one comment alone, I would say I’ve been convinced of your lack of regard for other’s opinions, your lack of knowledge, and your small confidence level. Are you just afraid of people knowing your name? Are you afraid that someone in this great big Internet will look at you funny? Are you really that lame?It takes a big man (or woman) to stand up and voice an opinion where everyone can hear it. These people have changed the world, over and over again. It takes a small person to insult anonymously, leaving nothing on the line. I admire Dana for being able to express her beliefs for everyone to see, proud to put her name on the writings. She is a strong individual, ready to make this world a better place. If she sees something she doesn’t agree with, she doesn’t attack the person. There is such a thing as grace, courtesy, and respect. She is also mature. She doesn’t need to attack a person’s physical appearance just to feel better about herself, sitting at a computer where there are no risks.Since the door was opened by Anonymous, I feel as if personal attacks may now be allowed. Get a life you stupid, small-minded, inept idiot. Now, for the comment from “Your mother”:"I'm assuming it's from one of my friends and we'll laugh about it later because, if I am anything, it is certainly elegant."If you are anything, it is actually, what we like to call in the business, FAT.- Your MotherDana, I don’t know your mother well, but I don’t get this impression from her. I’m assuming this was also the same simpleton who commented before, coming back to the scene of the random hatred spread. Dana is a wonderful person, caring, loving, fun, smart, big-hearted, kind, joyous, loyal, and true. She may be larger than other people. She is also smaller than other people. Anyone who chooses to see physical appearance should be hanging out at a bar, trying to pick up anything that moves. I doubt Anonymous has much success with this so he or she chose to attack someone online to boost his or her own self-esteem. Yes, I know this is Dana’s battle. She may be the leader in this one, but I’m going to be on the front-line, defending her all the way. To Dana – You are lovely. You are admirable. You are strong. You are smart. And you deserve to have your own opinion and you deserve to express your opinion on your blog. If someone wants to be a jerk, know that they are probably lacking the joys in life that you have in abundance. I await your reply to this moron.Beth
At 11:37 PM, Anonymous said...
Fat chicks do go on and on, don't they?- Kisses
At 11:41 PM, Anonymous said...
Oh, and from Dictionary.com:"2: in a gracefully elegant manner; "the members of these groups do not express themselves as accurately or as elegantly as their critics do""Oddly fitting, isn't it?- Kisses
At 11:48 PM, Emily said...
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At 3:07 AM, DeAnn said...
You just got spam!!And also, that person is the idiot. Anyone who hides behind "anonymous" while insulting is proving their own idiocy.
At 8:25 AM, Anonymous said...
Why would I bother setting up an account if Dana here can't even be bothered to make a cogent argument as to why Bush is a "trained monkey" (quite original, by the way)?- Kisses
At 10:46 AM, Anonymous said...
I don't know if he is a chicken or not. From my experience as a chatroom admin, I can say that there are plenty of posters like this. Mostly they turn out to be kids, not old enough to vote, that are looking to get a remark or a rise. Best to do is just ignore him. He will get board and move on. Your other choice is to click ON THE NOT ALLOW ANONYMOUS POST. If that doesn't slow him down, I have some admin tricks that can make sure he leaves you alone.Free speech is one thing, straight out insults are not welcome! I mean come on! If you are going to be amn enough to add your comments, have the balls to sign your name!
At 10:47 AM, Matt said...
Dana,You know how I feel about you, and you know that if anyone every says anything bad about you I am going to get angry, so for the follow ing comments that I am about to leave on this area, I do apologize. Before I start, I would like to say this, Dana you are one of the most lvoing, loveable, caring, thoughtful, and damn beautiful people I have ever met. That will never change, nor will it falter. Now, for the person who is now signing his/her/its name as "kisses"-YOU ASSHOLE! How dare you decide who is and is not worthy of goodness, and the right to express their opinion. When did I wake up in a Nazi Regime, you condescending prick, or prickette, what ever you may be. Other than a chicken shit, I have no idea if you are male or female, but I know a coward when I see one, or read one, or have the displeasure of running into one at an event. However if I ever do run into one at an event, outing, or what ever and they insult my friends, my FAMILY the way that you just did, I have no option but to tear them a new one, either verbally or physically. Which for your feeble mind, meaning stupid brain, you may not knwo what I mean. So let me just explain it to you this way, I will either make you feel just as stupid as you truly are by using words, or I will use my fists and make you feel the same pain on your body that you made the person you insulted feel in their mind. I do not know who made you the center of the universe and the one that makes all the rules, but you need to back the hell off. Every one, including you, has the right to express their opinion (such as I am doing right now), but no one, I mean NO ONE, has the right to attack another perosn, or animal, for no reason what so ever. Yes I did say that even chicken shit, yellow bellied, cowardly, dickless, testicle envying, bastards (bitches) have the right to express opinions. If you choose to attack my family, because not only did you attack my Dana, you attaked my father AND you attacked my Little Sister, if you were near me you would wish you were dead. Being that I cannot reach you through the computer screen, I cannot harm you in the way that would do the world a favor and myself, but I can at least let you know that you are a worthless person. I only took the time to defend my family's honor, and try to let you know that you are a waste of oxygen, of blood, and of tissue. You are not even human, you are sub-human, you are below human, you are below aniaml. As a matter of fact,they don't even have a classification for you other than waste product. So you can understand what I mean, let me put it into words that you would understand, you are shit, you are piss, you are crap, you are barf, you are everything that a person does not need in their life, so their body will naturally reject it. Much the same way I am sure your mother's body did to you. I don't think you were born the way most people are, I have this feeling that you were born from a bout of diarrhea from your mother. You are scum, and like all scum, you should be eradicated and wiped off the face of the earth, you low life little bastard. If you want to comment, come to my post thewindowlickingcat.blogspot.com, feel free to leave your vile words on my site, but don't you dare pollute Dana's post again you prick.As a matter of fact, let me even go one step furterh, give you my first and last name, because I do not fear chicken shit nor cowards, and you will not bully me. My name is Matt Satriano, and I live in Minnesota. So come to me you little shit, and let's see how tough you really are you waste.Matt
At 11:03 AM, Firebear said...
BETTER YET MATT, WHEN HE VISITS YOUR BLOG, CAPTURE HIS IP #. i HAVE MORE THEN ENOUGH CONTACTS TO TRACK HIM DOWN WITH THAT. DO THE SAME DM, PULL HIS IP AND SEND IT TO ME. i'M SURE HIS PARENTS WILL BE THRILLED WITH WHAT HE HIS WRITTING.
At 11:13 AM, The Lioness said...
Dear Anonymous:I am not always willing to see the good in people, like Beth; and I don't much try to keep my manners, like DM. So let me start off by saying:You are an absolute wanker of the bottom-feeding variety. You're not even worth the DELETE button, what an absolute waste of breath you are. You're also very right in posting anonymously, who'd be interested in reading your sad, pathetic little blog should you have one? Some of us do have lives. So sad...DM doesn't have to prove anything abt the scum that is president right now, his actions and words speak for themselves. But having a git like you vote for him, well, what else is there to say? (Let me add anyway that your mastery of English is quite the turn on, Lover Boy, I'm all a-flutter.)At least you have the good taste of acknowledging DM's style as elegant. It is rather, isn't it? I find that your choosing to pick on her weight is so in character with what you have chosen to reveal of yourself, albeit unknowingly. NEWSFLASH for you, you loser: DM has been losing weight, not that it's any of your business. There's a very good chance she'll some day no longer be fat. You, OTOH, will always look ugly (which I'm sure you do, you frustrated tosser). And your penis will always be a tad too small. And chances are you'll never really learn how to use it, so sorry. Not that you get around to it much, I'm sure (what, next you'll try to tell me you were the High School Stud).There are professionals out there who may help you work on your low self-esteem and general lack of any real worth and courage. But we don't really give a damn, do we. In the mean time, you bloody coward, FUCK OFF. I hope this was cogent enough for you.PS - I also do go on and on, don't I. Oh dear, how frightful of me. And do you know, I'm about 5'8 (1,73) and NOT fat. Funny, that. Oh and your kisses were a bit lacking (shocker!) but do keep trying. Maybe if you paid extra the hos could teach you.
At 6:05 PM, Anonymous said...
God, I thought you people were supposed to be jolly.Let me get a couple things straight. I'm a nazi because I called her fat. I must have missed that part of the holocaust in school. "Hitler killed millions of Jews, Blacks, and Fatties." Somehow I don't think that was in my history book.You say I have a feeble mind and then do nothing but threaten me with bodily harm? It takes a big man to do that. I mean real big, like cleaning yourself with a rag on a stick large.Next, anyone can express their opinion. I am of the opinion that Dana is a fat idiot. Thank you first amendment.If I were near you, I would wish I was dead because dear god that stench of yours is awful.Matt Satriano from Minnesota? THE Matt Satriano from Minnesota? Wow.Not my IP address! Dear god, I'm so scared!My question is, if I'm so worthless, why are you all getting so worked up?- Kisses
At 6:26 PM, Firebear said...
really, give this child no more attention. delete his post. Like most vandals, he takes pride in seeing the writting and the reactions. You can always tell the kids when they yelling about rights, which don't apply here.
At 8:53 PM, Anonymous said...
Mr. Anonymous,The ignorant has spoken and he knows how to blog. Sir Kisses or Mr. Anonymous whatever it is you do call yourself. I understand you are sitting in a dark room probably looking at porn of women having sex with animals. Though in your busy life you found the time to read a blog of woman whom I consider a friend and you chose to insult her both physically and mentally. Though I appreciate the time you took out of your animal porn search let me attack you now. To quote you: “I'm assuming it's from one of my friends and we'll laugh about it later because, if I am anything, it is certainly elegant."I think you mean ‘eloquent’. Please use english not gibberish and if not its too much trouble would you please, at your earliest convenience, instead of going to the I sit alone in a dark room with my pants unzipped.com or wherever animal loving can found these days visit a library or a bookstore preferably the kind without a full pullout section and buy yourself a thesaurus or a dictionary. You’re next statement and I quote If you are anything, it is actually, what we like to call in the business, FAT. In the business of acne cream and animal loving the business I envision of yours. I’m sure you can find a way to express your Politically views in a fashion that’s sticks to the format intelligence versuses ridiculous name calling is lost You were not paying attention to the assignment. I see no picture of you therefore one can only assume you are no Adonis or sign your name must be all the hand lotion from previous site exploration.Your next fatal error was noted and I quote “Fat chicks do go on and on, don't they?” – Kisses Well when a friend of ours is insulted we stand up for them. Let me see how can I explain to you in words you will understand AHH…When someone insults your blowup doll and you say “Hey that’s my only friend! Sure she’s been poped a few times and she’s sticky but as long as I can pump her up she still loves me.” Well sir you attack her you attack us all. Calling Dana or Beth names is like calling us all names. Though I pride myself on my maturity. I could go to that level as well but I do not I do not need to state the obvious. Then kind sir you said: God, I thought you people were supposed to be jolly.Let me get a couple things straight. I'm a nazi because I called her fat. I must have missed that part of the holocaust in school. "Hitler killed millions of Jews, Blacks, and Fatties." Somehow I don't think that was in my history book.You say I have a feeble mind and then do nothing but threaten me with bodily harm? It takes a big man to do that. I mean real big, like cleaning yourself with a rag on a stick large.Next, anyone can express their opinion. I am of the opinion that Dana is a fat idiot. Thank you first amendment.If I were near you, I would wish I was dead because dear god that stench of yours is awful.Matt Satriano from Minnesota? THE Matt Satriano from Minnesota? Wow.Not my IP address! Dear god, I'm so scared!My question is, if I'm so worthless, why are you all getting so worked up?- KissesOh porn/perv boy now I will answer this another proof of your stupidity. We are supposed to be ‘Jolly’ you are supposed to be intelligent. Damn another sterotype or assumption proven wrong! Actually calling you a Nazi is wrong at least they had goals completely skewed, twisted, deranged but they had them. You sir should take the time to learn what a metaphor is. They are saying you hurt people that you deem less than you by only physical traits or of different thinking than themselves wait you are a Nazi that was the idea behind the Nazi Regime. HMM me thinks the Perv contests too much! I love people like you I have the right to say what I feel 1st Ammendment, 1st Ammendment blah blah! You are allowed to state your feelings, however you are not allowed by most IP’s to use harassing or slandering wayss to do it. So technically, Pay attention as this does concern you Mr. Kisses you broke the law. Now the Ammendment is thrown out the window. Damn fine print it will get you all the time. Bodily harm that is awful how are you supposed to type in your favorite porn sites I agree that is to far. I mean really those models and child molesters must be paid by someone and fortunately for them it is you. I do believe however you do have a feeble mind. Afterall you haven’t argued your political points you just managed to stick to one syllable insults please Mr. Kisses I emplore read a book that does not show breasts! Stench AAW the porn lovers perfume since you spend your day verbally assulting others you probably can not find the time to I don’t know bathe or use any hygiene products available at your local drug or grocery stores. The Stench you emit from your words it is doubtful anyone but your blowup doll could stand to be near you. Sir no one is worthless as you stated about yourself, some people just happened to have a higher value or worth then others. You sir are of the lowest denomination.Mr. Kisses/ Animal Porn watcher Meet Mr. Foaming at the mouth raging Bitch. If you wanna insult my friends, then Sir we’ll go!Scott M. I don't ever wanna talk about this again!
At 10:25 AM, CarpeDM said...
Scott, Matt, Troy, Katie, Beth, Lioness, Firebear, DeAnn (is that everyone? I think it's everyone) I might have missed: I love you guys. You are great people and you continously remind me of how lucky I am to know you. This is amazing. I can't believe the amount of commenting this has generated. You guys remind me each day of what friendship is supposed to be like, instead of the twisted "friendships" I've had in the past. Quite frankly, as much as I love hearing how great you all think I am, I'm getting bored with Kisses. For some reason, this person seems to think that calling me a fat idiot is a big deal to me. It's not. I've been insulted by people with a much better turn of phrase than this person can seem to turn out. Nothing he or she says on my blog can do me any harm because I know that the people I care about, the people who care about me, will completely disregard anything that he or she has to say. I've known people who thought it was funny to say stuff very similar to the garbage that Kisses (as we're choosing to call this person) is leaving on my blog. What I've noticed is that if you don't respond to what they have to say, they usually go away. I don't know who this person is or why they seem to have such hostility towards me but frankly, I don't really care. Let's not let this person ruin our days. I've got better things to do.