A Peck of Gold

Spam Authors

Spammers of the world, how in the heck do you choose the pseudonyms for email spam? I just recieved one from "Hamblet Libbens", and I am simply dumbfounded by that name. It takes more effort to think up a bizarre name like that, which I'm automatically suspicious of, than one that's normal and more likely to be opened!

No, Hamblet. I'm not putting you on my buddy list. I refuse to open this email offer. You lose, Mr. Libbens. And tell your friends, Ms. Wilfredo Bowling and Mr. Harvey Lockelberry that they're not allowed either.

So there.

I Should Be in Bed

Occasionally, I make a late night run to Wal-Mart. The kids are nestled safely in their beds, Patrick is reading or studying, and I just go. I love 24 hour shopping marts. They're so... nocturnal, and a little forbidden... It's like playing hide and seek in the dark. A novelty. Sometimes, I even pretend I'm hiding from the sales associates. They don't like that, though. They say it's "suspicious behavior". Fooey.

But, the empty aisles, they're great. No squalling kids (mine included), no crowded hold ups, just me and the stock clerks. I like the quiet, the way the workers are all kind of mellowed out (okay, that's a nice word for dead-tired.) Wal-Mart is not the top of the list for relaxing retreats, but it's a different world at night.

I like the people who shop, too. Some of them are in scrubs (leaving the hospital) some are students (got the munchies), some are a little scary looking (and possibly muttering to themselves), and then there's the dad with the kids. I laugh when I see them, because I know if Mom knew her kids were out at 11:30 on a school night picking up emergency toilet paper, she'd flip.

Anyway, I guess now that I've rambled a bit, I can go to bed now. I'm starting to look a little like the cashier who checked me out tonight.

G'nite everybody...

ZZZZ.... zzzzz....

Stop Working, Let's PLAY!

I'm hungry. Let's Triangulate!

I'm one part mashed potatoes with gravy.
A little bit tomato sauce with angel hair pasta.
And one third grilled chicken salad.

Your turn!

Thoughts on Dentists (Yes, It's A Slow Blogging Day)

Recently, Patrick had to go to the dentist, and it prompted a conversation about why we dislike it so much. Of course, the physical aspect of it is a factor. But that's endurable... no pain, no gain, right? And that's what the gas is for (whoohoo!! Gas!) No, what really bothers us, is the condescention you get from the staff. Of course, they all have beaming, beautiful smiles. (employee discount? company policy?) So, here you come with your shameful mouth full of teeth issues... cavities, old ugly silver fillings, and teeth that haven't seen that particular shade of brilliance since you were three. You go sheepishly. Hat in hand. You know you've dropped the ball, and now you have to pay for it. But the financial penalties for your negligence are not enough to them. It's like a personal affront to their dentist sensibilities, and they feel the need to punish you more. They're like... "You haven't been flossing, have you, little missie? Oh you have? Well, you must have started recently, huh? Like yesterday."

Yes, yes, you cry ashamedly. You hang your head, and silently take the abuse you know you deserve. You didn't fool anybody with that extra good brushing and mouth washing that morning. You're busted.

And then, after the humiliation and embarassment is all over, guess what you do? You pay them. And you make an appointment to come back, to repeat the same joyful experience all over again in six months.

Sigh. At least you get a free toothbrush though.

By the way, no offense to the dentists out there, I'm just poking a little fun.

I'm not an Anti-dentite.

Purely Hypothetical

Is it soooo wrong to let your baby sleep in a closet, if it's one of those big walk-in types?

Not that we're doing that of course. No, certainly not.

Two Letters

She held the folded letter to her chest, breathing in the faint scent that wafted off the pages. It smelled of summer breeze, if such a thing were possible.

She imagined him, bent over a sturdy table, carefully penning the words that would bring her to him. In her mind, she watched him deliberate over his thoughts as he strained to paint pictures of the land around him, using the simple and stark beauty of his life to beckon her forward. She knew he was an honest man, and wanted to give her honest expectations, but she also knew how very much he wanted her to come. So, if he wrote the sunsets a bit sweeter, the flowers a bit brighter, she would not blame him. He sought only the comfort of her presense in his life. Such a small thing really, yet, it seemed more than she had been able to give.

She placed her hand flat on the page, and traced the small, familiar lettering with her fingers. Not so long ago, his hand lay here, poised over a blank page. His hands, hardened from work, had ceased their labor for a time, to form gentle words made for a woman's heart. Her heart.

She stared out at the fading sun. So sad, she thought. The same sun rises and sets on both of us everyday, yet we are as far apart as ever.

She laid aside the letter, and began to pen her own, knowing not the direction of her thoughts until she was finished. She smiled at her final words, daintily signed her name and sealed her letter, sealed her fate.

Holding both letters to her heart, she soaked in the sunset. Maybe it did seem sweeter, indeed.

I'm a romantic at heart, and this sort of tumbled out tonight when I intended on writing about the boring details of my day. The idea of a woman coming out west to be married, to live the life of a pioneer, with all it's hardships and rewards--- it's something that has always fascinated me. I couldn't even begin to write something that would rival the truth of the time. I just imagine the moment when a real woman, maybe some great-great grandmother of mine, decided the rewards were worth the hardships.

Brave women.

Sweeter sunsets, too.

Condimental Problem

I have issues with ketchup. No, it's not what you think - the dual spelling. I'm okay with that. I like variety. My main problem is the smell of ketchup when I'm not eating it. If I'm eating it, it doesn't bother me. But, thirty minutes later, if I walk by the same dish I ate off of, I am totally grossed out. I don't want to look at, or touch it, or smell it. Heaven help me if I accidentally get "used" ketchup on me when I'm out somewhere. I freak out to the nth degree.

And that folks, is your unexplainable and irrelevent Shannon factoid for the day.

See ya on Monday!

Whew!

Wow. Well, we're done. We moved! We started packing at 11 p.m. the night before, started loading the truck at 2:30p.m. the next day, and by 5 everything was in the new place. I don't know how we did it!! I am mostly unpacked, things are a bit unorganized, but we're here. I love it by the way. It's a great place! I only wish I was able to move my arms and legs again...

Moving Day

Okay, today's the day. We start moving stuff over to the new place, and trying to get things set up. Stop and say a little prayer for us. We've got a big task ahead, and I don't just mean the physical labor. We have a lot of changes going on, and it will take a while to get adjusted to our new situation. We could use a little extra grace right now!

Change in the Air

Wow. I am really, really tired. I haven't been this tired since the day Eli was born! We're making a whirlwind move to a 3bdr duplex this week, and I've got to start packing/planning. My brother is moving in with us, and we needed a little stretching room. So, I doubt I'll find time to write this week, just wanted to let you know. I'll be on again in a few days, if I am not crushed beneath the weight of a thousand boxes!

Eggs Taste Better Than Lint

So why is it that my 11 month old will eat absolutely anything he finds on the ground... fuzz... dirt... rocks... bugs.... paper... but if I try to feed him something new in the highchair, he acts like I'm giving him poison!?

Marking the Midway Point

We are just a few short days away from the start of school again, even though everybody else headed back weeks ago. LSU is the kind of fella who likes to sleep in a little. He also calls in sick a lot, or cancels due to bad weather quite frequently. Patrick only goes to school about three weeks in the Spring semester... cause he's out for Mardi Gras, Spring Break, Easter, and of course, Arbor Day, Grandparents Day, Secretary's Day... you name it.

Anyway, this is a significant semester in my mind. It's the halfway point. Patrick's been in school for 2 1/2 years, and now we're working on the last 2 1/2. It's really rather exciting to me. Everbody says, "Oh, wow, 2 1/2 more to go, that's a long time!" Well, QUIT SAYING THAT!! It's not! The first half went really fast. Now we're closer to the end than we are to the beginning. That's a good thing.

I don't have much to say today... lots of things to do so no time to write. Have a terrific weekend everybody!!

Aww... poor fella

When your ass is up in the air, please don't leave it there. That's really mean!

What's Under Your Slipcover?

I spent the afternoon making a slipcover for our t.v. stand. Due to our recent additions of Playstation and DVD player, it was starting to look like an electronic jungle. It was a bit scary. I think we had a little monkey swinging from cable to cable. So, I figure a slipcover will do the trick. This is no small feat, ye non-sewers of the world. First, I have to lug out all my equiptment, which is scattered to the four corners of the earth. Then, I have a live audience to contend with, who is constantly demanding diaper changes and drink refreshers, and also expert "help" from the toddler sector to fend off. Not to mention that I'm working with my own amateur skills gained in 8th grade home economics class. (Boy, I tell ya though, that "skort" and matching purse set came out quite well for a 14 yr old) Anyway, I finally finish the thing, and it's rather snappy looking, hides all the wires, seams are all pretty straight. I'm pleased with it. No more jungle monkeys.

And as Patrick so eloquently stated it, "now our t.v. has on a pair of pants".

Excellent.

Finding God in Funny Places

"Jingle Bells, Batman smells, Robin laid an egg..." Those rebellious words sung by Bart Simpson were the very reason I never got to watch The Simpsons when it first came out. I don't really blame my parents for that- NOBODY got to watch it at first. It seemed so... bad. But later, in college, when our parents weren't around to tell us what to do, we got wild. Oh yeah. We started having daily, unsupervised Simpsons meetings in the lobby of various dorms. We'd pile onto the plastic sofas with about a dozen of our friends and spend half an hour in Springfield. Talk about sowing our wild oats.

Well, we've graduated from plastic sofas to ones with actual cushions and pillows, but the tradition is the same. When Patrick gets off work, he walks through the door just in time for the show. Wrenn runs to him, and they grab a bag of chips and settle in for their daily, salty and silly ritual. And I don't mind. I know the Simpsons, they're good people.

Anyway, all that to say, I saw this book, The Gospel According to the Simpsons, and I'm wondering if anyone has read it. It's funny to me that there's a book about the spiritual life of the Simpsons, when they started off with such a bad reputation! I'm not surprised though. The more you watch The Simpsons, the more you realize that it's the most religious sitcom on t.v. today. I wouldn't say it's Sunday School material or anything, but it's definitely not the show we thought it was at the very beginning.

Anyway, that's all for now! Happy Wednesday everybody!

A Little Lizenby

Congratulations to Bart & Jen Lizenby on the birth of their first child, a big baby boy! Now they really have something to blog about... which is good since it's been awfully quiet over at Language of Lizenby lately!!! HINT, HINT!!! Seriously, wonderful news and we wish them the best. Can't wait to see some pictures!

Recruiting Bloggers

I've got a couple of readers who have mentioned to me that they think it would be fun to blog. Well, it really is. It's one of those things that you can put a lot into, or you can put a little, depending on your schedule, and it's still so rewarding. There are a lot of people that I'd love to see blogging, because I think you've got something to say and contribute. You don't have to lead an extraordinary life to have something extraordinary to say. Some of the best blogs I read come from people who lead very normal lives. So, if you're considering it, do it! Take the plunge. You'll be glad you did.

To any of you who have been thinking about it, but don't know how, I'd be happy to point you in the right direction. Drop me an email if you want to.

All Your Base Are Belong To Us

Once upon a time, a video game was created in Japan. It was then translated into English, and hilarity was born. Here's the website that explains it, and here's the direct link to the video. For those of you who get Engrish.com and Fight Kikkoman!, you'll love this one.

I'm Bored

I hate it when people say, "there's no such thing as being bored, only being boring". Phooey on you! I'm getting bored with this layout, and I feel change in the air here at APOG. So don't be surprised if you start seeing some weird stuff around here again. And also, I'm 'bout ready to do some pruning in my blog list. No offense to anybody at all, but if you're not writing, there's nothing to read!

The Orchard

"I was sixteen years old when I had the first dream. I was walking through a pecan orchard at night, looking at a white columned house on a hill. Moonlight filtered through the barren tree branches, lighting my path to the house. The only sound was my boots crunching old pecan shells as I drew closer. I climbed the steps of the porch, and without pausing to knock, pushed open the heavy door, and strode up a flight of stairs. As I walked by, I peered into rooms and parlors, but I contintued without pause. My steps were steady and deliberate, and I knew the way to the room as if I'd walked it a thousand times. Soon, the sounds of my footsteps increased and quickened, until I realized it was no longer my steps, but the beat of my heart pounding in my ears. I finally reached the end of the hallway, and placed my hands on the cold wood of the door. Light flickered under the door, and I wrapped my shaking fingers around the old metal handle. All I had to do was twist... one simple flick of my wrist, and the door would be open. I stood, waiting for the dream to continue. Mesmirized by my part in this drama, I watched my hand turn the knob, and after a moment's hesitation, I pushed.

I felt the scream rising from my throat before I even heard it.

I knew this dream was different from my usual adolescant repertoire, which is precisely why I kept it to myself. Not that it really mattered, though. There was no one to tell even the mundane details of a normal dream, let alone one that left me drenched in sweat and shaking for hours. There never had been. Friends, I mean. I was lucky if I could find a lab partner and someone to eat lunch with. It wasn't that the kids at the school were uber elitist and found me unacceptable, although they certainly fit that criteria. The problem was that I simply didn't exist for them. Sarah Jenkins, no, I don't remember a Sarah in my biology class... oh, she sat beside me? I just don't recall... That was always the case. For as long as I can remember, I have lived this invisible life. Sometimes it was actually laughable, if it hadn't been so painful. People wouldn't notice me in a bus seat, and half sit on me before I made a little squeek of surprise. But, strangers weren't the only ones who saw straight through me. My parents, though biologically aware that they had produced an offspring, seemed oblivious of my presence on a daily basis. It was if the mute button had been permanently set on my life. I spoke, but there was no sound. I yelled, and clapped, and broke plates, and still lived the life of a ghost. So, I kept the dream to myself."

Interested?

Move Over, Ashton Kutcher

I'm not the "Practical Joker" of a group. I may kid around occasionally, but I'm basically in the audience most of the time (which is fine... the audience is fun). However, this Christmas, my cousin and I couldn't pass up a sweet opportunity to pull a really dirty joke on my family.

Each year at our family Christmas party, instead of exchanging gifts, we each donate $10 to a charity. One person gets to choose the charity for the year, something that has special meaning to that individual. This year, it was my turn to choose the charity, even though I wasn't going to be there for the party. So, my cousin, Joey, and I hatched up a little plan. He would make the announcement of which charity I had chosen, and say a few words about it in my absence. Except, he wouldn't tell them the real charity I had chosen, but a fake one. One they'd hate.

Joey told them I'd chosen the Earth Liberation Front, which happens to be an environmental activist group that the FBI has listed on it's domestic terrorist list. Well, Joey hammed it up real good, listing some of their "activities" which include some buzz words like "economic sabotage" and "capitalist destruction". He said he had real reservations about this group, but that I had chosen it and we had to live with it.

Well, you can imagine the response. Some people gave me the benefit of the doubt. They thought maybe I knew something they didn't about the local chapter that wasn't so bad. Others were more upset, and gave heartfelt speeches about why this was wrong. Then, there was the unexpected reaction from members of MY immediete family who got defensive of me and felt that I wasn't being treated fairly. And of course, a few people had no clue what in the world was going. Things started to get pretty tense, and later my aunt told me she was just praying that our family would somehow survive this... My sister had walked out of the room... well, Joey saw that it was definitely time to lower the bombshell...

"IT'S A JOKE! YOU'VE ALL BEEN PUNK'D!"

The room just exploded in laughter, relief, disbelief, and many swears of revenge. They totally didn't expect that coming. We are not a "jokey" family, so they bought it all hook, line, and sinker.

Now, I watched the tape over Christmas, and I have to admit a little sympathy for everybody. It was so tense and they really didn't know what to do. But, I can't help but laugh, too. I know it's a year they will never forget, and they will talk about this party for a long time. I know I've got some payback coming, but that's okay. I probably deserve it. And I'll be expecting it.

The real charity I chose was the Never Ending Garden, which is a new program that provides families in South Africa with the tools and training to start and maintain a garden to provide food for themselves. It's a far cry from the Earth Liberation Front, and everyone was really happy to be donating to such a good cause.

Anyway... that's my experience as a prankster over the holidays. I just had to share it. It's great when you do something that really captures the spirit of Christmas, isn't it?

Boggle: A Respectable Waste of Time

I have been addicted lately to the online version of Boggle. I guess if I'm going to have an addiction, it might as well improve my vocabulary.

I Couldn't Come Up With A Measly 75 Cents

I just wrote a check for .71 at the grocery store because I had no change on me. Naturally, I felt very stooopid. And poor.

Things That Should Never Be Captured on Film

The family that styles together, stays together...

Gotta Be PC

I ran across the term "Differently Abled" the other day. Apparently, it's the new politically correct term for "Disabled". Sigh. I'm sure in a year or so, there will be a new, improved, more sensitive way to say it.

I read a really interesting piece written by Kenneth Jernigan, who is President of the National Federation of the Blind. In it, he includes a memo sent out by the U.S. Dept. of Education to employees about what terms are politically correct when dealing with people who are disabled. It's absurd. For example, instead of saying "blind people", it tells you to say, "people who are blind" or "persons with a visual impairment". Or, instead of "disabled person", you should say, "persons with a disability" or "individuals with disabilities".

Jernigan (and the NFA) published a Resolution in response to it, denouncing the use of all the euphamisms. You can read it yourself here. (I'd suggest reading it- it's good.) I think it's a great example of how political correctness can become a runaway train. The very people it's aimed at pleasing... aren't pleased! I'm all for treating each other with tact and courtesy, don't get me wrong. If there's a nice way to say something, by all means, use that way. But, don't bury yourself under vague terminology and useless jargon!

It's not just the tiresome cycle of it that bothers me. It's also the idea that it's not acceptable to notice or admit that we are all different. Some of us can't walk. Or talk. Or see. Why is it so taboo to recognize that as a society? It doesn't mean they can't accomplish the same things other people can, it's just a physical difference that is undeniable, no matter how you phrase it! It doesn't make them inferior or irrelevent in our world. Nobody who uses the word "disabled" or "handicapped" or "blind" or "deaf" is determining someone else's worth. It's just a physical description for a fact of life. Now, if a group of people prefer to be identified a certain way, I'll comply. People I've always called midgets now prefer to be called Little People. That's fine! I'm happy to do that. They want it- it didn't come about because of some politically correct agenda that's been forced on the public through memos.

Anyway, that's just my opinion, it's open for discussion if you disagree.

Cold Mountain

Over the holidays, I went with my sister-in-law, Amy, to see Cold Mountain. It was a well-done film. It took me a few minutes to get past the accents and into the story, but I barely noticed them after a while. The scenery was beautiful, and shot with that "epic" feel. The battle scenes were far more violent than I expected. I got the feeling that they wanted to "scare us straight" about how bad war really is. Well, it worked. If I didn't hate war before, I hate it now. It was very gruesome, and heartwrenching. The brutality of thousands of men killing each other is shocking, and far more realistic than I care to think about. The perspective of the women and children left behind is not necessarily new, but is still thought provoking in this venue.

The chemistry between the lead characters was... brief. They are barely together during the movie. However, the trials and struggles they go through to reunite make their love seem more sincere, and respectable. I do have to mention one thing- the "love scenes" in this movie are graphic. I felt obliged to cover my eyes a few times, and I couldn't stop myself from saying, "Well, I never... oh my goodness... should they be showing that??" I do admit to my share of peeking though...

But, it's not all hanky panky. Renee Zellwegger's character has the best growth and presence throughout the story. She nails it, and watching her was a real pleasure. She provides another level to the setting that helps build that "epic" atmosphere. She's pretty funny, too.

Natalie Portman has a small but moving role as well, and her portrayal of a widowed woman left to fend for herself is gut-twisting. I promise you, there wasn't a mother in the theatre who wasn't sitting on the edge of her seat or fighting back tears.

I will be disappointed if this movie wins the Oscar for Best Picture over the Return of the King, but I can see why it's in the running. This is the kind of movie that the more you think about it, the more you like it.

Anyway, that's my review. It was my first one, so how'd I do?

Potential Drinking Games

This post could also be called, "I Really Need to Get Off My Rear and Do Something Constructive With My Day, But Oh Well."

If there's something that the world could use more of, it's definitely drinking games. Well, maybe not, but I thought up some anyway.

The Brittany Spears Game: Every time Britt uses flagrant debauchery for publicity, you take a swig.

Crooked Politician Game: For every LA politician in your parish in jail or under investigation, take a swig.

Reality TV Game: For every reality show on, no, wait -- you'd get alcohol poisoning with that one.

Okay, now I'm getting up and doing my serious stuff for the day. Really, I'm going... Sheesh... quit hassling me!! Like you're doing anything better with YOUR day. You're still reading this!

Thoughts on a Rainy Monday

Okay, I'm officially back. It was great to take a break for a while and now I feel refreshed and ready to blog like crazy.

Let me begin by saying, YAY LSU! Watching the game last night was a community event. Everytime the Tigers did something good/bad in the game, you could hear the reaction all over the neighborhood. When they won, I opened the door so I could hear --firecrackers went off, people were hollering all over, small car fires were being set, spontaneous parades/floats marched by... somebody threw me some beads, and I ended up with a hurricane in my hand somehow... It was what I've come to expect from not only LSU fans, but people in Baton Rouge in general. They're all crazy down here! I love it. Cajuns rock.

Well, let me tell ya, if you weren't at the Trislers house for New Year's Eve, you missed an awesome night of watching Dick Clarke and drinking Hornsbys in your pajamas. Maybe next year, you'll be able to make it down, I'm sure we'll be doing it again.

In other news, we inherited a Playstation1, and I've been going at it like a kindergardener on crack. No games came with it, so I've been renting a few. Croc- which is a deceptively cute but hard game. Oddworld, which I played about a second until I got turned off by all the fart noises. Spinjam, which has permanently numbed my left thumb, and the Simpsons Wrestling game, which Patrick played more than me. The selection is kind of pitiful at our video store, but I'll be looking for others. Any suggestions?

And in other news, the Trislers have gotten a DVD player... I didn't think I'd ever see the day! But we did, and I'm loving it. The bonus features are my favorite part, but they are a little sneaky. I ended up watching all kinds of crap I didn't really care about... like, the alternate endings for "Freaky Friday"... that's so unnecessary, but I couldn't stop myself! I can't stand leaving stuff unwatched.

Well, that's all I had to say at the moment. I'll be back on, posting more later. Good to be back, people.

By the way. I hope everyone has added "Blog More" to their New Year's resolutions. I may have to start cracking the whip on some of you slackers out there... blogging every two months... COME ON!! There's just no excuse for that.

Name Your Toppings

You're coming to my house tonight and I'm making the BEST baked potatoes ever. You may top your spud with anything your little heart desires. Go crazy! What do you choose?