Wednesday, December 17, 2008
I have a physical and almost violent reaction when this comes on the radio…it usually involves me screaming nonsense words really loudly so that I can’t hear even a cord of it, until I can change the station.
I hate songs like that exist for one reason and one reason only; to manipulate people into emotional experiences. Stop trying to make me feel things. There are enough things in REAL life to make us sad. I don’t need any outside influences trying to persuade me to shed just one more tear.
Seriously. No more!
Friday, December 12, 2008
We have strong genes, the Turnage side is pretty dominant. I'm my mother's lookalike, and she's her mother's lookalike. I used to think it was a little creepy, to be able to look at the two of them and know what I'd look like at 40...70. Now I think it's pretty cool.
And when I catch myself doing things that remind me of them, it makes me smile. I'll hear myself laugh and look around for my mother. I'll flip to the back of the book to read the last few pages and think of Mimi.
I even get sentimental about the gross things. Lately I've realized that I have a really gross habit of walking around with half used kleenex tucked into the waistband of my pants. Kind of gross, right? My grandmother did that every day I knew her. I always thought it was odd. And it's actually a pretty handy place to keep a kleenex. But, yeah, snot and stuff. I recently confided this to my mom, and she admits to doing the same thing...
And its kind of distgusting. But it makes me laugh, because it reminds me of Mimi. And, hey. I'm just my mother's daughter. One could argue that I'm not even responsible for my actions, that I'm just genetically pre-programmed to stick used klennex in my waistband.
Miss you Mimi
Sunday, December 7, 2008
Friday, November 21, 2008
I'll be having a conversation with someone at work and I'll be talking about the day's schedule..."Oh, I've got a meeting in about 2 hours with so and so", or "he'll be back in about 30 mins". And I'll look at my wrist, like I'm checking the time. Pretty normal gesture, culturally acceptable.
Except I don't wear a watch. And haven't in about 10 years.
So yeah. Quirky.
Saturday, November 15, 2008
I've started a new job (yay me), which is pretty dadgum cool...except they monitor internet useage. :-( I can email and everything, but stuff like blogs and 'Face-space' might trigger some little alarms. I'm treading lightly...since I'm new. So, b/c we don't have internet at the house I have to come to the library these days to blog. And that's just not always convinent.
So, sorry blogworld. I haven't forgotten you, but I'm just busy. And those of you who miss my posts...should just call me. Because I am doubly delightful to talk to.
While I'm here...here's a few things that have brought laughter to my heart of late:
1. Had a hysterical conversation with my husband this morning. I'm going to by a new suitcase today, and I made the mistake of telling him (I knew I shouldn't), and he freaked out. Gave me an amusing lecture about how you just can't go out and buy things...you have to SHOP first. He thinks a great deal about quality luggage, this man of mine...and I think it's pretty funny.
2. Did you know my sister is a superhero? Seriously. She single handedly saved the lives of everyone at the Holiday Inn Express in Jackson, MS a few weeks ago. It makes me smile.
3. If you're not watching 30 Rock, you really should be. Hi-larious. Check it out:
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
1. Why are Christian Radio hosts always so cheery? It's really weird and completely annoying. We have a great Christian radio station here...they play a great variety of really good music...a nice mix of worship songs and Christian rock. I listen to them in the mornings on the way to work...until the hosts come on and start talking, and then I have to change the station. It's just too much. It's like listening to a combination of Kelly Ripa, Rachel Ray, and those annoying people at church who are just a little to "fake" about their Christianity...you know, the ones who are very interested in keeping up apperances, even when life sucks. It bugs the dickens out of me. Why can't a Christian media outlet be full of real people who have real feelings and are relatable? These falsely cheery types just don't do it for me.
2. So we just signed up for cable service, after an 18 months self-imposed absence. It's pretty nice. We have a DVR now which, don't even get me started, is pretty much the best invention since the television. I love love love it. We also have a station designated for promoting Barack Obama. It's called Obama TV. 24 hrs a day they run Obama advertisements. Mostly shots of him looking thoughful and presidential laid-over with clips of him sounding thoughtful and presidential. Tom's been watching it. And lately he's started quoting it, just to tick me off. It works.
Friday, September 26, 2008
1. When I was a kid a spent a good 5 years convinced that my sister was a vampire. Seriously. I used to go to sleep at night and pray "please Lord don't let Erin come and suck my blood tonight, Amen". This belief was due to an exposure to "Dark Shadows" and an overactive imagination. Plus my sister was seriously scary as a child.
2. I get nauseous when people burp really loud. You know, the loud ones where you can hear their insides rubbing together? It makes me queasy. I made the mistake of telling some people this when I was in college and then had to plug my ears for 4 years as they tortured me.
3. My feet must be clean before I go to bed each night. I can go a few days without showering if need be, but if my feet aren't clean I get all wigged out. I don't like for my toes to have that grimy texture when I rub them together. eigh.
4. I am an extremely nervous driver...not to the point where I am a danger, but to the point where if I have to pass a semi, I wait until I have a clear shot and then floor it so that I can pass him asap. I have to use all of my self control not to close my eyes during this process.
5. I am completely terrified by Willie Nelson. Something about his long freaky braids just screams "Molester" to me. I feel like he's going to tie me up with his hair. And that's just scary. Once my dad gave me a Willie Nelson CD for Christmas (he was unaware of my fears) and when I opened it up I screamed and threw it across the room, hitting the dog. I think I hurt his feelings...There was a lot of apologizing.
6. I like to mix honey mustard and horseradish sauce. It's the best. Sometimes I'll plan an entire meal around getting to use it.
Okay, I tag:
rules: link to the person who tagged you, post the rules on your blog, tell 6 quirks about yourself, tag 6 fellow bloggers, and comment on their blogs to alert them of their assignment.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Sister wins big
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Clean Cut Tom!(Current Look)
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Tom surprised me and took me out to dinner with some friends, and then to see "Spamalot"! For those that don't know, this is the musical version of Monty Python's "Search for the Holy Grail". It's hysterical.
And here is my birthday present! Her name is 'Roxie'. She's foxy. And I luuurve her!
Monday, July 7, 2008
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Monday, June 23, 2008
I've been getting pretty annoyed because of all the nasty ugly weeds that seem to grow along side every single road here in TX. I mean, seriously nasty and ugly. 2 or 3 ft tall, prickly and gangly looking, and they're pretty much everywhere. I was getting pretty p.o.'d wondering why in the heck the Great State of Texas didn't pay someone to come out here and tend to their roadside vegetation problem. I mean, what's wrong with these people? They mow the grass, but no one will take care of the ugly ugly weeds. Seriously, Lady Bird Johnson would not approve.
So, imagine my utter and complete chagrin when June arrived and all of a sudden the nasty ugly weeds started blooming.
I think there's a lesson to be found there somewhere...
Monday, June 16, 2008
Movie awesomeness is pretty rare, but this one made the cut. Although if you don't like musicals, or the Beatles you should skip it. But I adore both, so it was perfection.
Now I must buy the sound track.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Every now and then I roll my hair up in my car window.
From time to time I trip while walking across completely flat surfaces...like the carpet jumps up to grab me or something.
I have been known to ask for help when multiplying 25 x 2.
And sometimes....not too often, but sometimes, I'll check our bank account balance and see odd charges and become convinced that our credit card number was stolen and call the bank to contest the charges, call the company to demand a refund, cancel said credit card, look up the information to the better business bureau so as to report said company and the information the Texas Banking Commission so as to threaten the bank should they choose not to help me, and post a blog about how much ID theft sucks....and THEN ask my husband if he might maybe have purchased something without telling me about it. Which, of course, he had.
Sometimes I do dumb things. Sometimes I'm wrong about a lot. Sometimes I over-react.
Who am I kidding. I pretty much always over-react.
Monday, June 2, 2008
I know. It's awful. But very, very true.
I'm going to let you in on a secret. The thing they don't tell you about Texas is that it's not really part of the South. I mean, yes, if you look hard around here you'll find someone who will argue that with you. But honestly. They weren't members of the Confederacy, so they really don't count. Not only that but the people here...completely different from my definition of Southerners.
Southerners are nice. And considerate of others. Considerate of others in a lot of ways, but for the purposes of this post we'll limit the discussion to driving manners. Where I come from, people look out for others on the road. Some call it 'defensive driving'. Some call it being polite. Some people call it stupid and dangerous (but only those who weren't born there...TOM). But for better or for worse, that's what I'm used to. I'm used to an environment where you defer to others at a 4 way stop. Where you let people in front of you in traffic. A place where you can drive the speed limit and safely expect to remain unharrassed. A land where you slow down (or godforbid, Stop) when someone is backing out of a parking space.
It seems like a fairy tale world.
The rules are different here. In the non-South there is a different code of ethics. Here you look out for yourself first. You drive as fast as you want, however you want. In the non-South you can careen full speed through a parking lot, backer-outers be damned! It is perfectly acceptable wave your hand out the window while you zip past someone daring to drive the legal limit! Here people don't care how long you've been waiting to turn...so long as they don't get in front of them!
But the worst of it is the horn-honking. Where I come from, honking the horn is a rude thing to do. The only time you ever honk the horn is if you see someone you know and want to get their attention. The horn is not a weapon! It is an instrument of good will, not ill! But now I live on the other side of the country. The discourteous side. The side wherethe horn stretches it's vocabulary to also communicate when someone doesn't like the way you drive, the way you park, the way you slow down, the way you use your blinker, or the color of your car. They like their horns here in Texas. They like 'em mucho.
For a normal person this wouldn't be a big adjustment. But this is me. And if you've never ridden in the car with me I can tell you that I have bi-polar driving disorder. I alternately swing from extremely nervous and scared to scary raging harshness, complete with the red face and swearing...and oh buddy do I say bad, BAD words. It doesn't take much to swing me, but swing I do.
The timid and scared side of me hates the horn honking. It is frightening and alarming and RUDE and makes me feel like I'm about to get run off the road. I hear a horn honk and I want to pull over and wait for everyone else to pass me by so that I can drive unmolested. It totally freaks me out. I am already afraid to drive in congested areas, and at night, and next to tractor trailers, and when it rains, and the 3rd Thursday of every month...and the horn honking is just too much...it's over the top.
Now. The raging manical side of me kind of embraces it. It's a little bit fun. It's fun to tell people where they can go with the bleep of my horn. It's kind of nice to have the freedom to be impolite to idiots. When someone makes me mad...well that's it buddy. Instant gratification. No more fumming about the moron on the 114 all night long...I just toot my little horn and shake my fist and keep driving. What a release!
Tom keeps telling me that one of the fun things about living somewhere new is to find the things that are specific to that area and embrace them while you're there. So that one day you can look back and say, 'hey! I used to do that when I lived ___'. I'm hoping this is one of those things. That I'll be able to look back and say I used to do it.
I don't like it that I do it...but I do. I've become a double-standard horn-honker. It's okay for me to do it, but not anyone else. I'm totally ashamed of myself...and my momma and my sister would be embarassed to drive with me...but it's true. I'm a Texa-fied horn-honker.
Now. Get out of my way.
Monday, May 19, 2008
Friday, May 16, 2008
Sunday, March 30, 2008
This is just a non-senseness to have a first post. I don't have anything worthwhile to say.
For those who haven't heard, we've been with our jobs for about 2 weeks now, just got our first pay check, and my does it feel nice. AND, after a long month of packing, moving, finding a place to live, unpacking, moving all the furniture for carpet cleaning and then moving it back, I think we're on the cusp of being truly settled. All that's left is the 7 ft high pile of boxes in the spare bedroom...oy.
I am digressing. Or regressing. Or depressing. Or stressing. All I really want to do is curl up on the couch for 72 hours and have a Battlestar Galactica marathon. "Oh, wooouuuldn't it be lover-ly."
I'm going to finish this up before I start making even less sense and will try in the future to resist the urge towards becoming one of those rampaging, blabbing, meandering bloggers who follow a stream of conscious (or sub-conscious?) thought eventually coming to no conclusive endings.
...putting down some roots?