PD and I spent last weekend with the Juju Clan  (not linking to Juju’s blog, it seems to be in a state of repose…). It was great.  The littlest Juju boy turned 3 years old.  We sang Happy Birthday (quietly while he covered his ears and closed his eyes- doesn’t like being the center of attention, obviously) and ate cake and ice cream and he opened presents in the traditional way that we  celebrate birthdays.  It was great spending time with them on a happy occasion.  I just happen to have the most awesome grandkids in the world.

There always seem to be some interesting sights and occurences on our way to and from NY.  This time was no exception.  The only thing missing was the usual gorgeous sun and clouds that always seem to be present over Interstate 79.  This time was just gray gloom.  Oh well.

I am not one to buy much into stereotypes such as the ones that you may or may not associate with truck drivers.  But I don’t believe that I’ve ever noticed a truck driver who was of the Oriental persuasion.  Nothing wrong with that, just an observation.  Kind of like a blog I used to read, “Black Men Don’t Ride Bikes.”

Coming down 79 between mile markers 161 and 162, there is a small stuffed gnome strapped to a pole.  That was pretty cool.  Hope he’s keeping warm at night. And not missing his family too much.

There was only ONE BOAT on the lake at Moraine State park.  It wasn’t terribly sunny but it wasn’t cold, so I was surprised.

Saw a license plate on a fancy car (maybe a Lexus?) that read: PRAYD4IT.  Thought that was kind of sad, myself.

A conversation between PD and me on the way~

PD: There’s an unmarked State Police car.

Me:  Question: What’s the sense of an unmarked car if people like you can tell it’s a police vehicle?

PD: (no answer)

Me: How did you know it’s a police car?

PD: It said on the side.

Me: (wth?) Then it wasn’t unmarked, now was it?

PD: Well, there were no lights on top.

It’s just these sorts of exchanges that make me wonder how we get along so well.

Then there was this~

We’d come out of a rest stop.  PD had been waiting for me, reading the front page of USA Today.  There was an article about a bomb-sniffing dog that had been lost in the Afghan desert for a year and he read me the the headline.  I had been thinking about something and what he’d said only half-registered in my busy brain. He told me that when they found the dog they honored him with a regular hero’s welcome. It suddenly occurred to me that it seemed highly weird that they would train an Afghan Hound to sniff bombs.  And how in the heck would one survive for a year in the desert?  Yeah, this is how my brain works.  And why PD deserves your prayers.  And more of my undivided attention.

I was never a fan of Norah Jones.  That is, until I heard this song.  Then I fell in love.

Norah Jones – Chasing Pirates

This just in.  The ink is still wet…

One of my favorite songs in a brand new video that the band made themselves.  I have that on good authority.  They told me.   *wink wink*

Enjoy.  And don’t try to dance with your coffee.  You’ll spill it.  I know.

The Airborne Toxic Event – Gasoline: Majordomo Version

So yeah, I’ve had the plant since my dad died April of 1998. It was the only plant from the dish garden that survived so I was very careful about tending to it. In fact, when we would go to the family park each year for our family reunion, PD fills up jugs with water from the creek there and I would use that to water it each and every Saturday morning. My dad probly played in that creek or fished in it and I figured he might appreciate some of that “down home food” for the plant. I got to the point that I would be devastated if anything happened to the plant so I tried numerous times to take cuttings, hoping they would root and I’d have a “back up” if anything ever happened to it. It took me all this time but I now have two full-sized plants and a baby that I’m tending with love and care.
The really cool thing about this plant… All of a sudden one day after I’d had it for awhile, it bloomed. Little wee tiny white flowers. I don’t remember how long the blooms lasted the first few times. But after a time, I noticed that there was no pattern to when it would bloom. After another time, I noticed that it would bloom when there was something good going on in the family, such as when a baby was born or a marriage, different milestones in the family. I started to interpret the flowers as Dad’s way of saying to me “This is good.” After a few years, I got used to it and could predict when I could start watching for the flowers. You can understand, I think, why the plants have come to be so important to me.
I have a cousin who grew fascinated with the plant a while back when I told her that it bloomed right before she told us she was expecting. A couple of years later when she found herself once again in a family way, she would call me from time to time to see what Dad was “saying.” As it so happened, she called one day and I reported that the plant was indeed in bloom but I was amazed this time, to see that the flowers were not white, but lavender. She laughed and told me she knew why. When I asked how she could know such a thing, she told me that she had painted the baby’s nursery lavender that morning. So of course, the next time I see her, I’m gifting her with the baby plant. I know she’ll appreciate it and take good care of it. And I think Dad would like that.

There have been times that my mom was struggling with health issues or some other type of stress. I love to be able to tell her that the plants are blooming and that Dad is saying “Don’t worry, everything will be fine.”
I’m sure there are those out there who may be skeptical about this kind of communication I have with my Dad. But I don’t care, it’s between him and me and that’s all that matters.
It’s Saturday morning, time to go water the plants. : )

Pure. Magic.

I have been meaning to share this with you for a few years now. I imagine that you’re wondering why it’s taken me so long and why I’ve finally decided to give it up… I have to admit that it’s kind of personal, that’s part of the reason I haven’t written about it. The other reason is that, well, it may be kind of hard to believe. But I think you know me well enough by now to know that I wouldn’t lie to you and that it’s perfectly normal for me to have weirdness.

This story is about a plant.  Which has since become three plants.  If my dream comes true, that number could grow to a whole terrarium of plants.  

“Where did this plant come from and why is it special?“ you may be asking by now.

When my father died in April 1998, many wonderful people sent beautiful flower arrangements and dish gardens, as people are wont to do when someone dies.  A few days after the funeral, me mum was divvying up the plants to assorted family members.  I became the owner of a beautiful and large dish garden.

The only surviving plant member from that dish garden has been with me for 11 years now.  That fact in itself is incredible, considering that my thumbs are not only not green, but utterly colorless.

A couple of years ago I finally was successful at (what is the word?)  Propagating? [ Whatever it is called when you make one plant into two and they are both alive and well.]  The main reason I did this is because I become totally terrified at the idea of the plant ever dying and I figured if there were two instead of one, my chances of saving at least one of two were way better than if I only had one and killed it.

I lovingly refer to the plant(s) as “Dad’s Plant(s)…”  for two reasons.  One, if it weren’t for my dad, I wouldn’t have the thing(s), and two, because I have never found out what the real name of the plant is.  It’s not because I can’t look it up or even that I’ve tried, because I haven’t.  I’m weird that way, some things are just not important to me.   Due to the amount of explaining that will be necessary for you to understand how important these plants have become to me, I will show you what they look like now and continue with the story another day.  If you know what family this plant belongs to, feel free to tell me.  I will be impressed.  I’ll probly forget two minutes after I go away from this page, but I will be impressed, nonetheless.

Here they are, the original (top) and then he and his brother for your thoughtful consideration:

I can hardly wait to see this movie.

I wrote a lengthy post in my head last night when I couldn’t get to sleep due to being all stuffed up and slightly achy.  Guess what?  This morning I can’t even remember what the subject was.

But while I have your attention, I’ll tell you this. I’m considering getting my old blog put into book form.  Just because I can.  I was reading some of it last night and it’s so much better than this one.  I should be ashamed of myself for not giving this blog the tender loving care and time that I invested in the old one.  Just goes to show you, I’m getting lazier and less prolific in my old age.

Off to start my day.  Yay.

Mumford & Sons – Little Lion Man – clean: Video

It says disabled but you can still click on it and watch it.  (I know…)

The audio clarity etc. is MUCH better on the not-so-clean version, but I would never think of posting anything “objectionable” here on my dear (neglected) old blog.  If you want the rough stuff, it’s here.  You know you want to anyway, and I recommend it anyway…

Arctic Monkeys – ‘Cornerstone’ (Official Video)

Had an extremely lovely time with my family this weekend.  I am so very very lucky to have such wonderful people in my life.  I’m going to be concentrating on that fact with every inch of my being.

You just never know what’s around the corner.

I just learned of the death of someone I don’t know.  I don’t really have any business writing about this.  But this man’s son was killed not long ago and I can’t imagine the grief the surviving members of this family is experiencing right now.  It’s shaking my faith to the very core right now and that can’t happen.  When I’m not feeling strong in that respect, nothing feels right.  I can’t talk about this anymore.

It just occurred to me as I was selecting categories for this post that “God” and “wtf” should not be used on the same post…

Update:  found this news article.

Dear Blog,

So how have you been?  I know that you’re here because I stop in once or twice a day to make sure you’re still up and running…

I apologize for not taking the time to tend to you lately.  Things have been especially busy with work and getting the house in order.  The kids are coming today and I want to have everything ready so that PD and I can relax and enjoy their wonderful company. I will try my best to come back and at least answer the comments that my friends have been kind enough to leave.

Take care and hope to see you soon.

Sincerely,

One Wink

Dave Matthews Rolling Stones Memory Motel

I’m only a casual fan of the Stones and I don’t particularly care for Dave Matthew’s music much at all, but when I saw this, I had to share it.  I Love It.

(Thanks, SpeakerFreaker…)

Now and then I need to stop and remind myself that not everyone “gets” my sarcasm.  On here, anyway.   (And every once in a while in real life, too.)  It’s funny how you tend to assume that when someone reads what you write, that they’re taking it in in the same way you’re putting it out.   I don’t usually intend to come across as truly harsh or overly judgmental.  I forget that the reader can’t see me sitting here typing with a gleam in my eye or my tongue in my cheek.   A perfect example is the post I wrote recently about “pretents” in which I went on about how some of their speaking habits bugged me.  (A pretent, if you’re not familiar with the post, is the name I made up for a pretentious person.  It was supposed to be a jab at myself, as the whole point of the post was about how they (pretents) shorten words to appear to be cool…)  Someone I adore admitted to shortening her words and apologized for appearing to be a pretent.  In actuality,  she doesn’t have a pretentious bone in her body and I gasped to think that she thought I might consider her that way. She’s not the only person to read here who had that reaction, so I can only surmise that others may have reacted the same. (BTW, if you’re reading, B. and J., I <3 you both!)

There have been times that I’ve mistaken people’s sarcasm, too.  It’s not hard to do.  When you don’t personally know people and are just reading what they write, never having sat together for a real life conversation, how do you really know how to interpret what they write?  I’ve struggled with this and wondered how to get things across… There are terrific bloggers who are terribly sarcastic and it’s very evident.  The first one  who comes to my mind is dooce.  I envy her ability to be funny and sarcastic and still get a heart-felt idea across.  (The post I’ve linked to coincidentally addresses the fact that there are always readers who don’t “get” what she’s putting out there…)

Let me just say, I don’t really know how to get around this.  I was born with this sense of humor and I come from a long line of sarcasts.  I think though that I may label my rants as sarcastic in the future.  If you’re reading something here and it makes you feel uncomfortable or that I’m speaking directly to you, look up at the top of the post at the category and if it says “*wink wink*,” then that’s all it is.

So.  There it is.  I just wanted to get that off my chest.  If there’s ever anything I say that offends you somehow, please call me on it and give me a chance to clarify.  Just because I’ve been blogging for as long as I have, it doesn’t mean I know all the rules or even if I’m any good at it.

Now if I were getting paid to do it, that would make all the difference…

Toy Story 3 – Official Teaser Trailer [HD]

Sorry guys. I thought I was pretty smart catching the trailer that was supposedly leaked.  It’s gone now : (  All I can tell you is that it looks really awesome.  Andy is grown up and leaving for college and the toys are all worried about where they’ll end up. Andy decideds a good home for them would be a day care center and oh, the adventures they have!  Release date for the much-anticipated third installment is scheduled for June 18, 2010.  I’m excited.

I found out today we reached our goal at work and am thrilled to report that I do not have to work on Saturday.

[Insert image of Happy Dance here.  Your own version, of course.  Mine will not fit on this monitor screen...]

Most likely I will be able to put up a post of some (relative term) substance with a little free time then.  Now I know you’re doing a Happy Dance for sure ; )  And I’ll have time to get caught up on yours.  : )

Fat Boy Slim – Weapon of Choice

(Thanks to Bella via FB for finding this)

I didn’t.  I had a broken foot, couldn’t drive for a month and a half, had a kidney stone and a job that demanded I give up most of  my life for the last year.  I am bitter beyond belief but I will not belabor that on the blog. . .  I did not wear a bathing suit ONE time this year.  Wearing one isn’t looking good for next year either, considering that I’ve been sitting on my ass for an average of 10 hours a day for what seems like eons.  My body will never look the same.  But enough of that…

I despise pretentiousness.  Unless of course it is being delivered by a bonafide pretent.

(don’t bother looking that up, I just coined it.  From this day forward, snooty people who are full of themselves will be referred to here as pretents.  And the cool part is that they won’t know it’s derogatory.  Pretentious people usually refuse to see things like that anyway.)

Using “vaca” up there reminded me of that.  I detest certain word slaughters such as: veggie, burger, fries, (merely a coincidence that those are all foods) info, def, “congrats,” gynie, (pretent talk for gynecologist in case you didn’t know…) lingo- which is a bad shortening of language anyway and sounds particularly pretentious.

I’m not particularly fond of  demo, but I can stand it.  I’ve only recently begun to refer to my phone as my “cell” and I think that’s merely because I’ve been too damn tired to speak in multiple syllables.  “Mac” is fine because MacIntosh sounds entirely like something a pretent would brag about owning.  “Beemer” is ok with me because I think it’s funny.  B-Em-Dubya takes too long to say and reminds me of George and who wants to do that?  “Harley” is fine.  Besides, pretents don’t usually ride motorcycles.  I guess I could have used “bike” here in that case, huh.

I’m guilty of using “probly” exclusively but just because I like it.  Some people use “prolly” which I like too.  Mostly because NO ONE I know ever says Prob-ab-ly.  It’s like February.  Too hard to say.  I don’t personally have trouble saying Saturday but I know many people who insist on calling it Sair-dee and that kind of makes my skin crawl.

It’s funny that we’ve gotten either too busy or too lazy to say entire words.  In some cases, I understand it’s necessary, such as when you are Tweeting and it’s hard to fit all you want to say in 140 characters.  But otherwise, we tend to use shorter words to convey our thoughts and ideas.  But some of them just sound too pretentious.

Texting is a whole ‘nother subject with a whole ‘nother language.  But I’m not getting into that…

I’m not saying I don’t use chopped-up words, I do.  Sometimes it’s just for effect. It’s just that some of them sound stiff and snotty to me, that’s all.  I have more words- or parts of- to say and more to say about them but I’m getting kind of tired italicizing.

I will talk to you all at a later time.  Good bye

Totally identifying with this on a rainy and chilly Sunday morning, waking up at 6:45 am after having laid down “for a nap” yesterday afternoon at 3:30.  WTF.  Not only do I feel like I’ve misplaced my mind, my life seems to be MIA as well.

Fight Club – Where is my Mind

Every once in awhile something happens that is so absolutely, totally awesome that I can hardly believe it.  Those defining moments in your life that make you feel like nothing will ever be the same again.  When a wish comes true that you didn’t even realize you were wishing.   Something like this sneaks up behind you and kicks you in the ass in the most delightful way imaginable.

Forgive the gushing but I just can’t contain myself.  This is one of the most freaking awesome things I have ever seen.  Somebody pinch me because I think I’m dreaming.  One of my most favoritest bands in the universe performing one of my most favoritest songs of all time!!!  YES!!!!

I have to go do some cartwheels or something.  I can’t stand it.

The Airborne Toxic Event ‘Magic Moment’ Pomona, Ca 9-17-09

Every bloody year, I go an’ miss out on Talk Like a Pirate Day. Not this year, Matey.  I’m more ‘n ready fer it and I’m gonna tell ya a wee storry about somethin’ in Pirate Talk, I just ain’t d’cided what it be jus’ yet.

Th’ thing is, ya hafta git the properr accent thing goin’ so’s ya can read it out loud to yer wifey er yer dawg or jus’ ta yerself (cuz it’s funnyer if ya do.)   I’z wishin’ I hadda voice r’corder thing here so’s ya could leave me a recordin’ of yerself sayin’ Pirate Shit on herre.  But since Pirates ain’t perticularly known fer their bloody technical skills, I d’cided to duct tape my parrot, Petey, on here… ‘at way ya can talk ta him for a spell an’ once he gits it learned what ya said to ‘im, he can repeat if back fer us all to have a good laff an’ mebbe a pint er two.  That’s is, if ya be willin’ ta make a bloody fool ‘o yerself in fronta all sort of strangers an’ the like.

This is all puttin’ me in the mood fer watchin’ some o’ that handsome bloke, Jack Sparrah.  Me loves to watch the way that boy swaggers.  Aye

Tho’ it ain’t fair that you be sittin’ here readin’ this (if ya arrre) while I’m at work slavin’ me fine white ass off so I don’t be findin’ meself walkin’ the plank, why don’t ya leave me a wee note and let me know how ya arrrre taday.  This evenin’ when I’m sittin’ around the fire swillin’ the brine with me Arrrt School mates from days of Yore, I’ll make a fine toast ta all o’ you bloody swine!   Aaaarrrgh.

Blimey, th’ damn parrot took off, tape ‘n all.  If ya see ‘im, kindly r’turn ‘im ta me.

Some history here.

I just spent about 20 minutes writing a newsy, introspective, albeit ranty post full of all the juicy categories you see up there.  I had just finished when the phone rang.  It was Juju and I was excited to talk to her, being that she and Mr. Juju were in Toronto last night to see U2 (and Snow Patrol.)  As we started our conversation I’d realized that I’d not published my post.  I clicked something- which I thought was Publish and sat back to enjoy the conversation.

Now I see that I did not click Publish.  Dagnabbit anyhow.  It’s G.O.N.E., GONE.  And of course the title makes no sense whatso EVER.

Excuse me while I go find a pigeon to kick.

I just came on here to check my mail before bed and there it was on the MSN page.

Patrick Swayze dies at age 57

Did you ever have one of those moments when you thought for just a second that you’d completely lost it?  I thought I was seeing things.

Now I’m just very, very sad.

Fucking cancer.

It’s hard to believe how much time has passed.   A prayer going out to everyone who lost a friend or loved one that day…

I’ve had all kinds of stuff to talk about but due to a heavy work schedule, I haven’t been able to find the time to post anything.  Cramming 10 hours of OT into 4 days and then work tomorrow has put a rather large dent in my life.

So what do you have planned for the weekend?  Or are you going to try and catch up on sleep, like I am?  I hope your plan is more exciting than mine.

I understand there is a new version of  WordPress out for downloading.  From what I’ve read about it (in the last half hour) I would very much- in fact, dearly like to do that… even after having read all the shit things I have to do in order to download said version of WordPress (2.8.4).  Only thing is, I’m scared to death.  Anyone willing to talk me through it on the phone or, better yet, do it for me for a pre-determined reasonable fee?  It can’t be that difficult can it?  I dunno, reading this page scared the bejeezus outta me.  I didn’t even know I had any bejeezus in me, but now my pretty computer desk chair is all covered with the stuff.

I’m easily overwhelmed with computer things like html and rss feeds and data codes and root  canals directories and just stuff in general.  Most of what I do know has been self-taught and came at no small cost to my self-esteem and hair pigmentation.  Not to mention tears and tantrums.  Well, maybe not tears, but most definitely mucho tantrumos.

So, consider this an implorance for help in this matter.  The response(s) I receive will determine who is and who isn’t invited back to read.

I’M KIDDING!!!  But only about that last paragraph.

Who’s very, very funny, ridiculously intelligent and cute as heck too??

Click here to find out.

Hope you’re having a happy and safe Labor Day weekend, y’all.

What I’ve been filling my ears and my iPod with lately:

Arctic Monkeys ~ Cornerstone

Owl City ~ Fireflies

Ezra Furman and the Harpoons ~ We Should Fight

Arab Strap ~ The First Big Weekend

Goldfrapp ~ Number 1

Zaza ~ Sooner or Later

Nickelback ~ Gotta Be Somebody

Cocoon ~ On My Way

Living Things ~ Oxygen

White Lies ~ To Lose My Life

Cotton Jones ~ Blood Red Sentimental Blues

White Rabbits ~ Percussion Gun

M. Ward ~ Jailbird

And PD wouldn’t forgive me if I didn’t include his new favorite song, which I’m waiting to start liking… it’s not quite me.

Shinedown ~ Second Chance

Yeah, it’s a frightfully weird mixture but that’s the kind of mood I’ve been in lately.  Hope you find something you like.

So I come on here this morning and I had some mail to read.  There were a couple of weird things in my mail which turned out to be invitations to be friends with people from that nablopolamalooza thing that I attempted and failed at last month.  Firstly I thought, geez, people you’re a little late, that was last months news.  Anyway, I clicked on the invites and they were some of those weird people who claim to make tons of money on the internet doing weird things and I followed my usual impulse to click the delete button.  There was a bunch of negative people also leaving weird religious messages about tragic crap and of course they were followed by comments such as “get a life” and crap like that by people who piss me off by using the internet to spew their weird psychotic tendencies because they have nothing better to do with their life.  I realized that I’d wasted 5 minutes of my precious morning and just went on the nablopolamalooza site and spent 5 more precious minutes trying to find out how the hell to be an unmember of the whole stupid thing.  But I got out of there and deleted my badge which never showed up correctly on my sidebar anyway.  So don’t look for me to be signing up for any of that weird crap in the future.

So there.

Anyway… it’s a beautiful morning and I’m waiting for PD to wake up so that we can get on with our day.  We’ll most likely attend a huge annual Labor Day celebration at a park near our home which we usually attend.  There are rides for the kiddies, pretty good food which is bad for you, a giant flea market, music, sometimes a celebrity or two, a petting zoo, some artists displaying their work and some nifty port-a-potties with running water so you can actually wash your hands.  It’s all sponsored by assorted Labor Unions.  More often than not, we get sunburns and end up buying a bunch of stuff we don’t really need and seeing a few people that we haven’t talked to in ages and get some exercise walking the whole length of the park to search for wherever we left our car.  But it’s fun and it’s a tradition.  Oh yeah, they have all-day Bingo too, for those people who think that’s what celebrating Labor Day is all about.  Which I’ll never understand, but who am I to judge?  The sunburn thing makes more sense to me.  What’s a good holiday without a sunburn?

You enjoy your weekend and be safe.

Been swapping some music with a new friend at work.  He turned me on to this woman.  I think she’s amazing.

Kaki King – Gay Sons Of Lesbian Mothers Video HQ

More about her here.