Create In Me

a clean heart Oh Lord
and renew a right spirit within me
cast me not away from thy presence
and take not thy Holy Spirit from me
Restore unto me the Joy of my Salvation
And uphold me with thy free spirit
Amen


because

Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved By Ms. G.

Just Because I Can't Resist

See Ya Next Friday!...or will i.... ; )

Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved By Ms. G.

Purse Stalker

Recently I was shopping for bags. I found one. I looked at it on different sites and I did a lot of research and thinking. And then I bought it from the company site. I was having a little trouble with customer service or ANY SERVICE where I bought it so I may have compulsively typed in the name of the company multiple times looking for bad news. I didn't find any. But multiple times Nextag came up with a listing for the bag I was buying.-somewhere else.  My bag finally arrived. But. Every page I visit on the Internet that uses advertising suddenly pops up with an advertisement with a  picture of my new bag leading here: Nextag with my bag at the top of the list.
Every Site. Every Day. I'm being stalked by Nextag trying to lure me with a bag like a creepy predator trying to lure me in a car with candy.


Go Away Nextag! Leave Me Alone! I Already Bought The Bag!

Somewhere Else!

 CHEAPER!

I'm thinking of getting a restraining order.




Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved By Ms. G.

Speaking of Littlest

Since the post on my other blog concerns her attitude at age ten I thought this one could be about now. To be in this tournament took a 6 hour car trip plus sleeping in a hotel plus she also dropped weight and lost more than she should have.  She was performing without a coach because he could not make it. She went with only one supporting team mate who could only speak Portugese though he very helpfully waved his arms around and yelled stuff that sounded very encouraging. I'm not making excuses BUT- Her opponent lived in town. Was able to arise from her own bed and leisurely arrive. Lit's 1st fight was a 5 full minutes and she won. The girl she beat had to fight the third girl, who was fresh and won in about 2 minutes. So in the last fight this girl had basically had a warm up first and Lit had already been through a full fight. Her opponent was also very good. She was experienced and has been doing tournaments longer.  Littlest is usually extremely aggressive and strong. She wasn't on her best game. But she still wasn't submitted (automatic loss) it was close points wise and she was ahead during part of the fight. So when the going gets tough

                                      

                                                 The tough get a Silver Medal instead of a Gold

                                                                        and an attitude.


There is no telling this kid what an amazing job she did. She has only been doing this a year and a half and has 5 Gold Medals and a First place Sword. This is the biggest tournament she's been in so far. Second place is not good enough to her. In her opinion it's total failure. *SIGH*

At least she didn't yell out- I should have won, I worked harder ; )


Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved By Ms. G.

I believe every word this man is saying.

From this article/broadcast about WOFF
http://abcnews.go.com/US/nc-man-church-imprisoned-gay/story?id=17534557

My former best friend from girlhood, 57 ChevyBug has been in bondage to this cult since 1994.

It's an evil place that soils the name of Christianity. It takes advantage of the weak in spiritual confidence. The broken. The lost. Woff is not the Word of Faith but the Shame of faith.

It makes me angry and breaks my heart.


Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved By Ms. G.

Lace Up!

It's a Happy Birthday/Double Blog Anniversary/Yay it's October/I ain't cooking dinner/ I'm not drunk but these new drugs might be kicking in party!

Do You Know What This Is?

This is a 140 lb. Dufus stuck under a king size bed

And I'm here Alone.

 

Where's the butter?

 

 

 

 

 

Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved By Ms. G.

The Littlest Princess

That's My Baby Girl

Copyright 2012 All Rights Reserved By Ms. G.

I Can't Let It End Without a Goodbye Party

When I walked out of the building my devastation brought me to the ground. I sat slumped on the curb, my feet on the blacktop. My husband hovered unsure, offering solace I didn't want. It was before cell phones and I waited, aware that I would be the greeter for this occasion and my dread in being the hostess almost surmounted my grief. I knew who would arrive next. Who was called first. Though I had been closer in miles. I stood up as I saw the green car race into the nearly empty parking lot. I struggled to prepare the right words but couldn't arrange my face and as she ran toward me,  I felt it crumple and disintegrate. When her eyes met mine no words were necessary as the story was already told and she doubled her pace, rushing toward me with her arms outstretched and I reached out in return to catch her in flight.  We held tight, rocking back and forth and sobbing, then finally slowing like a mother whose child is finally drifting off we caught our breath and some form of peace descended, just enough consolation to bear us through for awhile.

After awhile the others arrived. My parents. My other brother. One of my sisters. They refused to let us in to see him. Something about people making a ruckus and causing problems in this situation. We looked at each other in disgust, deeply offended that they would assume, because We aren't those kind of people.  My sister even produced her badge in an effort to show them. But they refused. We would not leave him there alone a moment longer.  The six people who were not there when he shut his eyes because it happened so fast. So we sat lined up on folding chairs, for two hours, in the hall, refusing to budge until they told us his body had been removed and was in transit.  Going Home. Close enough anyway. We stood as a group and filed out, dispersing momentarily to travel the three hours back, knowing without arrangement where we would land.

We had been staying at my husbands parents house, bringing both vehicles so that he could go to work. After we drove back to collect our children and our things we separated and I said I wished to drive alone. After we hit town I followed his truck until he passed the road to my parents house, where I turned off without even thinking. He would figure it out. And when he called I would tell him to stay home. I would be fine. Because even after eleven years he wasn't completely one of us. We were a self contained unit and he really didn't get us.  He wouldn't understand that day, just as he didn't a few days later, after the funeral. The food, the stories, my brother having a beer, the smoking. I had to be a part of them right now. And they were all there, as I knew they would be. Like homing pigeons the cars were parked out front and they had all gathered in the coop of my parents living room. Where we would wait until the funeral home called to let us know that our brother, our son, our husband, belonged to us again and we could claim him and see for ourselves. It isn't real until you can touch them and know they have gone from that shell. I began that day to count us in the back of my mind when we gathered as a group. Without consciously realizing it.  5...6...someone is missing. Someone isn't here. Oh yes. That's right.

At one point I met her eyes again and rose to go to the door. She followed. A different case. Blood from the beginning, though no connected drop flowed in her veins. We sat on the porch, removed from the voices and bodies crammed around the dining room. We sat silently, the common denominator in our three way family inner circle, the quiet ones. My brother by birth. My sister by nature, his chosen.  She said, "I have these. I keep them in the car because he was only allowed to have them in the visiting room." And matches, lighters weren't allowed. She would bring them when she would visit and then stow them away for next time. Babies had induced us both to quit but there it sat in the palm of her hand. There were three left. I reached out and we sat on the top step, in the quiet comraderie of our grief, potted plants at our feet, staring out at the trees as afternoon dimmed the view. The smoke acrid but longingly familiar resting on our tongues, swirling about our heads.

We saved the third. Like a Chinese tribute to the beloved dead. She nodded as I held up the pack and I tucked it in my purse, all I had left that he had recently touched. When I came home I tucked it in my trunk, among my wedding memories, post cards from travel, baby announcements...and soon, the first of the funeral announcements too, sixteen years ago today.

© 2011 All Rights Reserved By Ms. G.

Oh Fllibbittth

I woke up and felt like it was a fresh new day. I was almost caught up with everything I was behind on. Littlest is feeling much better. My FIL had surgery to put a shunt in his brain to remove fluid and not only made it but has been improving steadily. I need to get my niece a birthday present and finish up an ongoing PITA I'm having with Lit's school about them screwing up an online class she's supposed to be taking but I had plenty of time to finish those. I could actually dare to...Yes. Breathe. And catch up with blogging.  Think about some real posts. Catch up on reading my favorite blogs and see what everyone is up to. Until a minute ago when The SeaMonkey came in and told me that a project we would be starting soon had just been moved up to SURPRISE! Tomorrow! And I get to start at 7 in the morning and work through the weekend too!  aWESOME. yEAH...fLLIBBITTTH....


not that I'm ungrateful God....we will make good money on this project...Thanks for that and all...but still....my brain is still currently composed of pixie dust.


© 2011 All Rights Reserved By Ms. G.

I Barely Escaped With My Life. Or a pillow.. or something like that

A little while ago I pulled the couch away from the wall a few inches to smooth back the cover. Then I pushed it back but not all the way so it wouldn't hit the wall and pull the curtain. Then I noticed a throw pillow was missing. I didn't see it when I smoothed the cover. Had it been resting on the back and fallen over? There wasn't enough room was there? But I got on my knees on the couch and put my eye up to the crack. Sure enough, the pillow was down there. So I stuck my arm behind the couch and grabbed the pillow. And pulled up. And my elbow stuck. It fit down but wouldn't come back. And I couldn't pull the couch out. Because I was kneeling on it. And no one else was here. I couldn't reach my phone to call 911. I peeked out the window to see if my new neighbors were in their driveway, because for some reason they are always in the driveway,  so I could scream for help, but for some reason they weren't. Maybe because it was about lunch time.  The SeaMonkey was out of town and wouldn't be home until.....at least one o'clock. I was already in the position for prayer and I thought, OMG I'm going to die here! Trapped with my arm behind the couch. I'll waste away from starvation. I haven't had lunch yet. I considered the possibility of chewing my arm off. Therefore killing two birds with one stone but that would be messy and I just finished vacuuming.  I called my dog for help.  Help! I cried, come save mommy! I figured being 135 pounds, he was close enough to a St. Bernard to rescue me but all he did was jump on the couch. And add weight to it. He didn't even have the courtesy to be wearing some handy rum to steady my nerves. Or knock me out so I didn't notice starving to death with my arm trapped behind the couch. I couldn't bear the thought of my family coming upon me, skin and bones, hanging limp from the back of the couch and besides, I was wearing a sundress and was afraid it would creep up when I collapsed, thereby adding embarrassment to my demise, when they called the fire department to bring the jaws of life, only to free my lifeless body,  and cause my family shame for decades to come. So I took a deep breath and with all my might I used my body to scoot the couch away from the wall and free myself with moves that would do credit to The National One Armed Cheerleading Squad Hall of Fame....Well... it should exist....and lived to tell my tale to future generations so that they will be aware of the perils of couch climbing alone ...and had some lunch.


I looked something like this. Sure I did......

© 2011 All Rights Reserved By Ms. G.

Fastening My Seatbelt

We're in for a Bumpy Summer.

Hatches battened ✓

Debris cleared..mostly ✓

Trees given a stern talking to ✓

Electricity given a good talking to ✓

Plenty of snacks ✓

Scary Movie ✓


Snugly blanket ready to go ✓


I'm ready to go!





UPDATE: All is well. I have merely been Moss Bombed!

This is why I worry.

Back Yard

Front Yard

and yes, those are tomato's growing in my front yard. We are 'Those People' ; )

© 2011 All Rights Reserved By Ms. G.

Reminds Me of a Night in 1986

I Love This Song.







If you have time check out FUN.'s other stuff. This guys voice is Tremendous.



© 2011 All Rights Reserved By Ms. G.

I Would Have To Say I Agree ; )

A few minutes ago my husband walked into my office and he was carrying one of these.

We were having a conversation and as he moved his hand around while talking, it kept making a beeping noise.  I finally asked, "What is that thing?"

"Oh", he answered, holding it against his chest where it again began beeping, "I guess that's right."

What? I asked.

He grinned,

"It's a stud finder!"



Seriously, who really needs this technology? I found him the old fashioned way.
Holding up the wall by the ladies room at a club, where he could get the best view.


© 2011 All Rights Reserved By Ms. G.

For Real

This is what's sitting on my desk.

And I didn't stage it.

That's a tiny lime.

I didn't put it there.

And I'm not going to sign a lime that I'm not responsible for.

I also may have found the coolest tennis shoes EVER.

I will now use my Super Powers to float horizontal to my desk so that you can see them from another angle.....Whoooo....

Yeah. I know.

Get back to work.

© 2011 All Rights Reserved By Ms. G.

There's a Word For This Feeling

About this artists music. All of it.

Besotted.

Yeah. That's it.

Sunday Afternoon

 Lacking in focus to read a book or blogs. My mind is already numb without the added infliction of reality TV,  dominating the line ups,  icing it into further stupor. My shoulder is numb too. A pinched nerve that causes me to completely miss keys and because my mind is numb often miss the miss, wich -see- (which) has led to some slightly incoherent comments that tell me I'm better off not on the computer at all. u-But- my husband is napping. My daughters have successively walked out the door this afternoon with young men, laving-see- (Leaving) me in peace. Except for the one who doesn't live here to begin with. She called and said she was annoyed with her husband for being annoyed with her for reading. He's pouting, she said, because I'm reading The Hobbit. He asked why I wouldn't stop and talk or go do something wth him. He doesn't understand, she said, I'm on a Hobbit adventure. She knew I would understand. I do. I feel listless and unproductive at the same time. Even though my bed was made before my husbands nap. I finished and put away laundry. Even coding my closet by clothing type and color. omething-(S) that gives me a wonderful feeling of satisfaction. Except that once it's done I don't want to mess it up and avoid getting dressed if possible. Once I take something out I feel like my block tower fell over. This is unhealthy isn't it? Well my jewelry box is organized too and all my shoes are neatly lined up. Unfortunately I will eventually have to leave the house. March was an exceptionally nice month for us. Many things went well. So am I an April fool who will lose in return this month? I hope not. N one has played any practical jokes on me today. Unless it's my keyboard. Because this missing letter thing is getting old. Is it bed time yet...?


© 2011 All Rights Reserved By Ms. G.

And as the past 6 Days Wrap Up

Now I'm about ready to

What's Up in The Office Today?

Well. Since I lost my Outlook password and won't remember it because it was a random string of letters and numbers I never got around to changing that is connected to our website server....somehow...don't know how it works...might as well...




update
5 hours later I still can't get in my company email. I have a client in Brazil that might take a hit out on me before this is over with. I have to travel Sunday thru Tuesday and if this isn't resolved by then I'm in Grandes Sarilhos. But that's ok cause twitter noticed I'm being shy and sent me recommendations they think I should follow.
Latino Museum

Cracked.com

CSPAN

Pete Carroll

Trent Reznor

Oh! and best of all!

Justin Timberlake


Gee, do you suppose they've been reading my diary?
Ok here's something really creepy. I copied and pasted and now it's turning everything I type into twitter print. I'm infected! This situation obviously calls for chocolate. or possibly beer. Though I'll probably just curl up with my biography of Eleanor of Aquitaine because I'm exciting like that.

And by the way. yes. I have watched that video about 7 times today.

A Prize In Itself

Last month I entered the Erma Bombeck Writing Competion, in the humor category, under my real name. I had very little hope of winning and I didn't. Not even one of the 4 global honorable mentions. Which is ok. It was a challenge I gave myself. One of the criteria was it had to be 450 words or under. Uh Oh. If you read my blogs long enough, particularly Mom of the Perpetually Grounded you will know that I find it difficult to write Anything in less than a thousand words and most particularly something meant to be funny. My 'comedy'  schtick is usually creating a very convoluted story line. That's how I roll. I consider myself a storyteller more than a writer and if I write a story I usually tell it as though I were speaking to you. Waving my hands around and all but you can't see that part ; ) So anyway....I worked very hard to edit a 1700 word peice down to 450. It was a great experience and really made me think. It made me work for it which is something I don't usually bother to do. In the end I did get a critique from my judge! The story had some funny parts but not enough of them. Well I agree. The other funny parts were in the 1250 words I cut out ; ) In all seriousness I felt it lost something of the humor in the editing myself.  Truthfully the more I worked on it the more I hated it.. though I felt I gained a lot of experience in exchange. And that is a good thing. 
In the end this is what caught my attention:

[Story is cute and well-written]

 well written....Well Written?   WELL WRITTEN. : ) : ) : )

It brought tears to my eyes. "well written." Even if I never do another thing,  those two words are worth more to me than 4th, 3rd, 2cd, 1st place, and the $500 prize combined. I worked hard for them. I am content.


Usually I would be content and even tickled just to find I wrote this post without any misspelled words ; )


 © 2011 All Rights Reserved By Ms. G.

On Work......

I adore Ogden Nash. Of all the poetry I love, his work is the one place where I can always be amused.  And since I'm actually working quite hard right now I am letting him do the writing for me.

 When people aren't asking questions
They're making suggestions
And when they're not doing one of those
They're either looking over your shoulder or stepping on your toes
And then as if that weren't enough to annoy you
They employ you.
Anybody at leisure
Incurs everybody's displeasure.
It seems to be very irking
To people at work to see other people not working,
So they tell you that work is wonderful medicine,
Just look at Firestone and Ford and Edison,
And they lecture you till they're out of breath or something
And then if you don't succumb they starve you to death or something.
All of which results in a nasty quirk:
That if you don't want to work you have to work to earn enough extra money so that you won't have to work. 

Ogden Nash
Copyright © by Linell Nash Smith and Isabel Nash Eberstadt

 : )

The Vocal Coach

This is my youngest daughter (Littlest) attempting to sing Memory from Cats. It's a difficult song and she's having some trouble staying in tune. However, one member of the family, our 10 year old Serena Miserena, makes it very clear that there are some songs in which flat notes-
WILL NOT BE TOLERATED.

It's easier to see on full screen. Watch the feet at the beginning...
and listen closely for Serena instructing..

That laugh that sounds like an emphasemic old hag at the end is me with a bronchitis. I don't sound like that..Really I Don't!

As with all human images on my blogs,   this post is complete contraband and may dematerialize without notice ; )

Enjoy!

© 2011 All Rights Reserved By Ms. G.

What Valentines Day Means To Me

The 27th Valentines Day.

An Essay by Ms. G.

Valentines Day after 27 years becomes a ritual steeped in comfort, trust, and familiarity. Our love becomes something so big, so all encompassing that it permeates every moment of the day. Just like any other day. Valentines Day means chucking bags of red and white M&M's in each others lap and knowing...knowing without a shadow of a doubt... that if you eat all yours first,  the other will share what's left in their bag.

I so should be somewhere else right now.

Like buying M&M's. Because I thought Valentines Day was Wednesday. What? My anniversary is in two weeks. This is Peanuts. Hopefully wrapped in M&M's.

Look! HTML Hearts!
♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

How cool is that? This is how you do it.    ♥   type it in your HTML editor.

Do you know how much I actually have to do today?  A whole lot. It's almost ten. I'm so far behind.....


© 2011 All Rights Reserved By Ms. G.

I've Been Thinking

About George Harrison. I think he was The BEST Beatle. I know alot of people would disagree but I will argue the point until the day I die.  I watched a documentary about him last week and it just confirmed what I already felt. I remember when I was old enough to realize that most of my favorite Beatles songs were the ones he wrote and also that several songs I loved were him solo.

Let's just start here.




 Just a few more if your mind starts going , "Oh Yeah!"


My Sweet Lord

Here Comes The Sun

What Is Life

With Clapton for

Something -incredibly beautiful love song.

And with this awesome line up for

While My Guitar Gently Weeps

You know what else? I Love this song too.

Got My Mind Set On You

And those are just the ones I could think of off the top of my head.
George Harrison was wonderful. He's one of the people I would like to meet in heaven. And I'm pretty certain he'll be there : )


As you can see I'm working very hard in my office today. Everyone join in now....


Ummmmmmmmm huuuummmmmm Ummmmmmm

Now we're all relaxed and at peace it's time for lunch!

NO. no i do not have the munchies. stop that ; )


© 2011 All Rights Reserved By Ms. G.

An Ode to EyeGlass World

Eyeglass World. There you sit on the side of the road. Your commercial touting prices we all know are a lead on but you do have a large selection. A delight to the eye. Or perhaps so, when we can see them. When we have glasses. When we have the glasses we ordered over a week ago. When we have the glasses you said they would call and tell us were ready. In a week. When we called after a week passed and they said they would get them ready by tomorrow. And we called tomorrow and the fair maiden, I suspect from the squeaky grating voice to be the same one who doesn't seem to comprehend the process of dilation of eyes while attempting a sale until later when we were actually looking and she systematically ignores us...for half an hour.. till we depart in frustration and yet come back the next day anyway and buy glasses that would be ready in a week,... grates intones on the phone that we are interrupting At a Very Busy Time and they will just have to call us back ASAP ...two hours ago. I wait by the phone. Anxious so anxious. Will they call? Do they care? They have my $500 dollars surely they won't forsake me. My sight weak and blurring, I await the tinkling tones to to guide me to the device with which they reach me..
and when they reach me. If they reach me. I will breathe deep a sigh of relief. Then I will smile cheschire cat like, invisible to them on the other end. I will tell them. Afternoons are a Very Busy Time For Me. I'll pick them up tomorrow.


© 2011 All Rights Reserved By Ms. G.

Whoops

Did I ever mention that Mid has blogs? Well she does. Did I mention she sometimes uses my computer?
Well she does.

I totally just commented on someones blog with her Disqus profile because I am used to it being signed in as me automatically and didn't notice she was the one signed in.

It's a blog I only occasionally comment at. I panicked and fled.

Boy are they going to be confused.  ; )




© 2011 All Rights Reserved By Ms. G.

The SeaMonkey Just Now Said....

Ms. G. We just got incredibly busy.......


*SIGH* I guess the party's over.....Well...the get our tax documents together party for what it's worth but still....Back to, oh she's here...   where'd she go?

As The Cat In The Hat might say......

Did you ever work?
Work all day?
Did you ever bust your can for pay?
If you have not.
You really should.
Work brings money.
And money is good.

Where'd I put my tool bag?
 I've been using my cable scissors to open macaroni and cheese packets..

Shhhhh...I didn't tell you that....

Personally I'd much rather bust my can at home for free and I did for a very long time. But if I want a home to rest my can in when I'm old I have to get busy.

© 2011 All Rights Reserved By Ms. G.

Yes, That's All I'm Ordering

I like rice

But I eat it with a fork

No dropping grains to waste upon the sands of unswept floors from clumsy finger gymnastics upon the wooden parallel bars between the thumb and forefinger

Drop

Drop

Like water dripping from a faucet

One. Every few minute like mouthfuls.

Simple and unadorned.

Alone in it’s bowl a peasants feast.

We need no Mu Shu pork here!

No two faced chicken twisting our taste buds in a cacophony of sensation that leaves us confused, our tears rinsing  sauce from our lips as we cry out, What is it?

Sweet?

Sour?

I no longer know what I feel

Between my teeth, is it broccoli?

A tiny green bulb in a corner molar

MSG

gives me a migraine.


© 2011 All Rights Reserved By Ms. G.

Well?...What Are You Waiting For?