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( 5:54 PM ) EK B
Wow. 5 comments from yesterday! I think that's a record for a Bet blog. And thanks to those comments, I now cannot close my eyes without seeing 1) Michelle twirling a baton to "A Fifth Of Beethoven," or 2) Mike flatfootin' and singing "Thank God I'm A Country Boy." I'm a happier person because of that.

Today was a weird day for me. It was kinda hoppin' at the office, and time flew. We got paid today, and I spent my lunch hour running all kinds of errands. I grabbed a chicken sandwich afterwards and came home to eat it quickly and check my email. After the sandwich I decided to (look away, squeamish people) have a pee before going back to the office.

The toilet just didn't flush like I wanted it to. It was weak. And I thought, "Oh, Lord, please, please. The Poderosa's been such a happy home lately, please don't let me have plumbing problems. Then I went to wash my hands. I had no water. I went into the kitchen. I had no water. I was perplexed, and frankly, a bit panicky.

When I got back to the office, I called the town. Seems I didn't pay my water bill in a timely fashion, and the town TURNED OFF MY FUCKING WATER!

Now, I knew I'd forgotten to pay my bill last month. I realized that when I got this month's bill and it said "previous balance." I started looking through my checkbook, and lo and behold, I flat-out missed that bill. But the bill I got said, "Hey, dear friend, we know you didn't pay this bill, but we're gonna put it on this month's bill, which is due 8/14. Thanks, love you! The Town." Well, that was paraphrasing, but it was a very laid back bill.

What I didn't realize was that I'd also gotten this blue bill of death saying, "Hey! Yeah, you! We've decided if you don't pay your stinkin' bill within 7 days of the due date, you're kaput. Finished. Dry. Now, piss off! The Town." (Somewhere in that they also changed my due date from the 14th of the month to the 22d. Go figure.)

Well, apparently the blue bill of death made the gray bill of grooviness null and void. And since I was thinking I had till the 14th, and they thought I had till July 22d, when seven days passed, off went the water.

You know, in the grand scheme of things, it's no big deal. I was paying bills today anyway (having just gotten paid), so it would have been in my stack, but I guess it's the final indignity, you know? Having your water cut off. Anyway, the more I ranted about it, the more everyone at worked laughed at me, and then I got to laughing, and, well, the day just flew by.

So, I guess it wasn't a bad thing after all.

I'm blogging now because I'm heading to B'burg tonight. I'm headed to Michael's (a craft store) to look for flocking (long story short, the fuzz you use to give a Ken doll hair). I'll be stopping by Mr M's for a little while to pick up a remote control.

See, I haven't told you I now own half of a DVD player. Well, I guess more correctly, I should say I'm half owner of a DVD player. Mr M and I decided to go halfsies on one. We like to watch movies, and we all know DVDs are crushing VHSs like grapes. Plus, if you were one of us waiting for the release of "O Brother, Where Art Thou," (or one of any other myriad of popular movies, I guess) and had to wait six months for a VHS release while the DVD version sat there on the shelves taunting you, you'd understand the need. Plus, for some reason, Mr M already had four or five DVDs. No idea what that reason is. Anyway, I get first custody of the player, and I have it in my possession, but the remote, I forgot. I want that remote!

Oh, one more thing. My left contact lens was bothering me all day. With the water fiasco at lunch, and not being able to wash my hands, I didn't get to check the lens to see what was making it hurt and irritate. I was sure it was torn. When I got home, I popped it out to look at it. I'd been wearing it all day inside-out. Yep, that kind of fit for my day.

So, anyway. The lens is in right, I have water, I got paid. All's well. #

( 11:53 PM ) EK B
I have 25 minutes to blog, and I have no topic.

Saturday, I stole Mike's blog topic, "10 Songs I Thought Ruled In High School." It is below. Upon its completion, Mike mentioned to me, "Oh, man, I forgot. That topic was actually '10 Songs I Thought Ruled In High School, But Now I Realize Really Sucked.'" OK, I'm game, why not. I've embarrassed myself before. But I'll bet I can't come up with 10. Unless I pick five KC & the Sunshine Band songs instead of one....

10 Songs I Thought Ruled In High School, But Now I Realize Really Sucked

1. "Jeans On," David Dundas Yep, I thought this was a cool & rockin' song. Listening to it today, it blows.

2. "Carry On My Wayward Son," Kansas We loved this one in high school. It had choir-like harmonies and shredding gee-tars. Listening to it today, it blows.

3. "The Free Electric Band," Albert Hammond Albert Hammond of "It Never Rains In Southern California" fame. This was his more obscure and second hit. I used to think this song was ultra cool because of its pounding piano and rebellious lyrics. Listening to it today, it blows.

4. "With You I'm Born Again," Billy Preston & Syreeta This was an eerie love song. Which I thought was haunting and sparse. Listening to it today, it blows.

5. "Brick House," the Commodores The Commodores were at the peak of their blackness and success with this one. And all the little white kids from small southern towns like mine just loved it. I know this song is making a big comeback with the nuevo-disco area, but for me, listening to it today, it blows.

6. "Long Tall Glasses," Leo Sayer Wasn't this song adorable? And when Leo used to sing it, he'd dress up like a mime! And I thought it was so cool. Listening to it today, it blows.

7. "Bad Blood," Neil Sedaka OK, I've told you before, there was a time I worshipped Elton John. And because Elton engineered Neil's comeback, I had to love Neil too. And Elton even sang backup on this one! Woooo! Listening to it today, it blows.

8. "Thank God I'm A Country Boy," John Denver Denver at the height of his popularity. I loved John, and there are still songs of his that are wonderful ("Calypso"), but this is where he jumped the shark. And I loved it. Listening to it today, it blows.

9. "Wildfire," Michael Murphy Michael Murphy was without a doubt the worst concert I ever saw (including Sting). And that was even back when I liked him! I've no idea why I was a fan, but listening to it today, it blows.

10. "A Fifth of Beethoven," Walter Murphey Yeah, I guess this appealed to my sense of music. "Oooh, I can like groovy now music and old classical music -- aren't I far out?" Listening to it today, it blooooooooooooooooooows!

Now, I DARE anyone to match that in embarrassing themselves!

#

( 10:56 PM ) EK B
I worked! I swam! I laundered! I ate! It's Monday Mission time!

1. What is your favorite snack food? Does anyone you know have weird tastes in snacks? I'd be hard pressed to decide between potato chips and ice cream as a favorite snack food. Probably ice cream. I don't know what's really considered "weird" taste in snacks. To me, if someone wants to snack on rice cakes, that's pretty damn weird. Or maybe paint chips. But I don't know anyone who does that.

2. Ever caught yourself saying "well it can't get any worse" and it does? What's the story there? Ohhhhhhhh, yes. All in a three-week span in June, several years ago: first, my mom broke her leg. Then two weeks later, my beloved doggie Bill died. And just as I was saying "what the hell else can happen?" I had a small house fire. It turned out to be quite small, but at the time, it was horrible. I haven't really said "it can't get any worse" since then.

3. I have a super-short attention span, and it always was my downfall in school, especially math class. What's your attention span like and how has it served you? I have a relatively short attention span, too. I'll be concentrating on somethi HEY! WHAT'S ON TV? No, sorry. My attention span depends on how interested I am in what's going on. I can hang on every word if I'm enjoying it, or if it's important to me, but if I'm trying to read something like class materials, I lose interest VERY quickly. That worries me. Served me? Not served me or disserved me, really, one way or another.

4. Do you believe in the existence of extra-terrestrials? You know, I hate to say this, but I really don't care that much one way or another. I don't know if they're out there or not. I've never had an anal probe by one, they may exist, I may live next door to one. Ehh.

5. What do you think of the whole "crop circles" phenomenon? Well, I used to think they were creepy, till it came out a couple of summers ago that they were a hoax, and people were creating them. So now, I just think they're kind of neat looking.

6. Ever had a time where you begin visiting with someone you don't know all that well and just find you "click" like long lost pals? Tell me about how that came to happen, and who was it? What kind of things do you have in common? This has actually happened twice with me. Both times it resulted in making groovy friends. First time was with a girl I discovered while trying to buy some of her Squeeze photographs, and we became almost instant friends. Not only did we have the band in common, but we were both crazy about the same obscure actors (like Nigel Havers), and liked the same kind of music, TV, and it all just clicked. We ended up visiting each other several times, and are still great friends, even if we've sadly "grown apart" a little. The other time was meeting Heidi. We were online in the #squeeze channel, and everything got to be so telepathic between us, people started laughing that we were sharing a brain. She's one of my best buddies, and of course, is my web-maven.

7. When I was at the cemetery a few weeks ago, I began to recall my Dad's funeral so many years ago. It is so vivid, sitting there in the family room as his friends passed by and paid their respects, the music, his face, the tears. What funeral do you remember most vividly? I recall NO funeral vividly. I hate all funerals, and wipe them from my mind as soon as my psyche will let me.

BONUS: How can I forget you, girl? Oh, you probably can't. Cause, you know, there's always something there to remind you.

#

( 11:50 PM ) EK B
As I mentioned in the wee hours, my friend and web-maven Stennie is doing the 24 hour blogathon for charity.

So it really, really makes me feel small to say, I can't think of a thing to blog about.

Well, Mike came through for her with yet another long list of blog topics, and since I told her I was going to steal the last one, I'll go ahead and do it now.

Top 10 Songs I Thought Absolutely Ruled During High School (In Kind Of Order)

1. "It's Over," Boz Scaggs My friends and I, this was our song. We even ran a losing (sadly) campaign to get it elected as our "senior song" before graduation. Boz has a great voice, and the breeziness of this song makes me want to take a long, fast drive. This is a song that really brings back memories. "Best of friends never part...."

2. "You Got Me Anyway," Sutherland Brothers & Quiver This was a pretty obscure song, and I really have no idea how I discovered it. But I did, and not only do I remember its cool pink & white 45 label, I still listen to the song. It's accoustic, echo-y, dark, rockin', and still very very cool.

3. "Baker Street," Gerry Rafferty You know how you hear a song for the first time and just say, "yep, this is it. I love this song." That was this song for me, my sister and I were driving in her lime green Mustang II (Mustang II, Speed Zero), and heard this on the radio. The next morning, it was on the radio when I woke up. Loved it, and knew it was going to be a hit. That sax gets me every time.

4. "Ariel," Dean Friedman OK, this was a novelty song, of sorts, and it got tons and tons of airplay till the world was sick of it, then it vanished. But while it was on top, I loved this song, I loved the tune and the lyrics and the whole schmeer. Then when it vanished, I guess I forgot about it. Till recently, when I downloaded it from Napster and realized what adorable lyrics it really does have. So I'm glad it got tons and tons of airplay.

5. "American Bandstand Theme," Barry Manilow Yeah, yeah. Laugh if you want, I don't care. There were a few reasons I liked this song so much. The lyrics attached were fun, and it was different in that it had horns and swing rhythms and the like. And, my friends and I liked it so much, we took it to our band director and suggested it as the centerpiece of our marching show the fall of '77. And he went for it. We played the intro, and sang and danced the rest en masse. And they loved it.

6. "Strawberry Letter 23," the Brothers Johnson I got this one from my, then, sister's boyfriend, now my brother in law. He was a real soul afficiando, knew all the acts, and he played their album for me. It has such a cool sound and production, it's unbelievable. And the bells. Someone could seduce me with this record. Too bad they're now using it on a Special K commercial.

7. "Stuck In The Middle With You," Stealer's Wheel The precursor to "Baker Street." (meaning Gerry Rafferty) This is such a catchy song, cute lyrics, strummy guitar, good driving music. "Clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right." I mean, how much better does it get?

8. "Whatcha Gonna Do," Pablo Cruise Pablo Cruise toured a lot around my area of Virginia, so we got to go see them lots. They were a fun band, played till they played out. This is a great summer song, it just sounds like hot sun beating down on pavement. It makes you want to wear sunglasses.

9. "Groove Line," Heatwave Yes, I did have my disco bent, just like everyone else who was in school in the 70s. We used to go to a club called the King's Gallery, and I loved dancing to this song. It even has the obligatory "Woo! Woo!" Imagine my surprise when it was used in the late great lamented "Freaks and Geeks," when Nick went disco on our asses.

10. "Ebony Eyes," Bob Welch I liked "Sentimental Lady," but this was the song that made me drool over Bob Welch. Who was supposedly some kind of ladies man, but he was bald and had bad skin. But his songs rocked, and he wore a beret. That's all it takes for me!

#

( 12:31 AM ) EK B
OK, it's just turned Saturday, so let me be the first to tell my bud Stennie "good luck" for the blogathon.

She's participating in the great blogathon for charities today, blogging 24 hours. To raise money for World Cancer Research. Cool, because I agree with her that Cancer sucks, and someone needs to kick its ass.

So, go, Stennie! #

( 7:03 PM ) EK B
Friday Five! Friday Five! Friday Five!

1. How long have you had a weblog? I'm a wee babe as far as this is concerned. My first blog was on May 10, 2002. It was a tiny little paragraph.

2. What was your first post about? Oh, I almost gave that away in question one. It was a tiny little paragraph, all about how I was about leap into this scary new world of blogging, and how old I felt because I didn't understand it. My second blog, though, the next day, was pretty good. It was about loving movies and quoting lines of movies in regular conversation.

3. How many changes (name, location, etc.) of your weblog have there been, if more than one? Only one. A couple of weeks into blogmania, I decided to change my screen appearance to a dark blue pattern. It ended up looking kind of like "Men's All Occasion" wrapping paper, so I went back to the original cranberry.

4. What CMS (content management system) do you use? Do you like it or do you want to try something else? I'm powered by Blogger. I like it OK, as a person who knows little to nothing about html, it's nice there's a program that does it all for you. But they're occasionally down, and I hate the fact that they lose my archives every other day. But other than that, yep, it's OK.

5. Do you read people who have both a journal and a weblog? Or do you prefer to read people who have all of their writing in one central place? To be honest, I didn't realize there was such a thing. So I guess I just read people's weblogs. #

( 11:20 PM ) EK B
It's another Thursday night. Just got back from another pedicure. Eaton Eggplant this time. It's an oldie but a goodie.

You know, last time I was coming back from getting a pedicure I heard something on the radio that ignited my rambling and tiring "One Nation Under God" blog. Well, tonight, on a different station, I heard something and have to mention it. It shouldn't be rambling and tiring though. Well, it is tiring to me.

There is a, well, I guess it's a restaurant, here in town. It's a small deli-type restaurant, and they sell food as well. Like, fancy ingredients you probably can't buy at a local small-town grocery. Like live crabs and chinese hot hoo-hoo sauce. Or whatever. You know the kind of place I mean. Upscale and pricey.

This place is run by a very, well, prominent family in town. They have their fingers in a lot of pies. Hopefully, not pies at their shop. But anyway. As this prominent family is running the deli/store, I guess it should come to pass that all the hoity-toity of the town gather there to eat lunch. During any afternoon, you see the high hat and country club set on the porch, eating overstuffed sandwiches and talking about the stock market and Muffy, Biddy, and Cissy's boarding school. Needless to say, it's not a place I frequent.

Which is OK, that's not even the point. The point is, that I heard a commercial for the Prominent People's Deli on the radio as I was coming home tonight. And this commercial actually said, "The Prominent People's Deli is now introducing authentic Appalachian cuisine to their menu!"

Now, I have a couple of problems with this. First of all, I can't see the folks sitting on the porch talking about the stock market, these folks who are so afraid if they go out of their tiny circle of town they might have to touch a common person, eating authentic Appalachian food. These are people who eat crab salad and ruebens on marbled rye bread. And they're gonna be sitting on the porch eating collard greens with ramps, and scalded lettuce and onions, and brown beans with onions and biscuits? I think not. Muffy, Biddy, and Cissy wouldn't get anywhere near them if they did that.

The other problem I have with this is with the announcer of the commercial. He said "Authentic Appalaaaaachian Cuisine." Well, right off the bat, it's food, not cuisine. French people have cuisine, we have food. But worst of all, he said Appalachian with a long "a." No one should be allowed to say Appalachian with a long "a." The only people who do that are people who don't live here. Filmmakers and politicians who stay at hotels in the city and drive up into the mountains to view the poverty say Appalachian with a long "a." Not the people who make it their home.

"Appalaaaaachian Cuisine." Sheesh. #

( 11:18 PM ) EK B
I'm sitting here, overheating. It was kind of an interesting night.

Now, when I say overheating, I mean it literally. I'm hot. Mr M came down for a visit tonight, and within the first five minutes of his being here, always, off goes the air. I always knew he was cold-blooded.

It was a lazy night, no meat loaf or mashed potatoes, no agenda, we watched TV, and the movie "Babe" (it'd been a long time since I'd seen that one, and that little piggy still makes me misty-eyed), and, of course, played clarinets. Well, a little.

A couple of really weird things happened tonight though. The first was, in his regular (and when I say regular, I mean, every other word out of his mouth) badgering me over the fact that I don't have my college degree and I really should get it and why don't I get it and I could make a great deal on student loans and still be able to get it so when am I going to get it yah yah yah yah yah, Mr M found out a fact about me. One he didn't know, though I'm sure I've told it to him at least once. That I went to college for 3 years before leaving.

The look on his face upon hearing me tell him this was priceless. It was something like John Cleese's double take -- as the insult-spouting French Guardsman -- in "Monty Python and the Holy Grail." Then all hell broke loose. Apparently going to college for three years is worse than becoming a crack whore for the Taliban. He glared at me, and blasphemed, and rubbed his eyes and shook his head. And I heard about it all night.

The second occurrence came during clarinet-playing. And my psyching myself out and getting frustrated over it. And finally Mr M made a remark to me I wasn't expecting. "I think you should take a vacation from clarinet until band practice starts back." *boing!* Huh? Band practice doesn't start back until September 4. "Yep," he said, and then probably threw in some slanderous remark about me and college degrees. "You're not helping yourself and you're making things worse. Forget about it for a while."

And you know, as drastic as it first sounded to me, I just might take him up on it. A vacation might be nice.

Then again, think of all I'll forget in 6 weeks. And think of the temptation to "sneak," and practice on the sly. "Shh! Don't tell anyone, I'll just play this piece and do some scales, and won't he be surprised when I start again!" Who knows, maybe that's why he made the suggestion, because he actually wants me to practice, and he knew this would screw me up enough to make me do it.

As it stands right now, I'm taking a one week vacation, and seeing how it goes. Never one to jump right in the pool with both feet, me.

As for the rest of the night, I gave Mr M a navy blue beret from my collection, which made him look quite fetching and french. Especially with the pipe.

And that's about it.

So I guess I gotta run now. I've got some practicing not to do. #

( 6:36 PM ) EK B
As you may know, I like to swim.

It's the only athletic endeavor I have any semblance of talent for, I guess that's why I like it. Or maybe it's the weightlessness. In any case, I like when summer comes and I can swim laps. In groups of three; breast-stroke, free-style, and back-stroke. All my final tallies for lap-swimming are multiples of three.

I don't ask for much in this life. Out loud, anyway. Silently, of course, I yearn for beauty, love, riches, and the like, but that's kind of a constant. Out loud, I ask for little. But there's a quest I feel I'll never complete.

The search for a good pair of swim goggles.

As much as I like to swim, there are a couple of things I don't want to swim without. First is a pair of earplugs. This didn't used to be such a requirement, but a couple of years ago, I got some water deep in my ear. Around the 2d swim of the year. I spent a good two months rattling and gurgling and shaking my head and was just miserable. So now, no matter how dumb they look, I use the earplugs.

And second is a pair of goggles. This has always been a must. My eyes are just so sensitive to water, I'm struck dumb with the first splash to the face. No goggle, no swimmle.

I'd love to have all the money I've spent on swim goggles in the past 15 years. I'll bet I could buy a good used car. At the start of every summer, I buy a couple pairs. That I'm never quite satisfied with. So I buy a couple more. And one of those breaks, or gets scratched, or liberated by the nephew and his buddies. So I buy a couple more.

Then I'll decide that the regular average Speedo jobs aren't good enough. I'll see something in a catalog, say Sharper Image. "The World's Best Swim Goggles!" And they're 40 bucks, and I shell it right out. And they suck. So I see another fancy pair. "The Universe's Best Swim Goggles!" And they're 50 bucks, and I shell it right out. Yep, you guessed it.

The pair I ended up with last summer were pretty good. Not great, they fogged, but they were good. And the first time I went to put them on this summer, the strap broke. They don't sell swim goggle straps out there. If they knew it was for me, I'm sure they would. "Oh, this is for Ms Bowles, she's given us $4000, get these in the mail right away!" But they don't. So I've been using them without a strap, which looks kind of like someone wearing glasses without earpieces, but it works. For a while, anyway, six or so laps. And at the beginning of the summer I ordered a new pair. And a new pair of earplugs, because they were on sale.

Now, as an aside, let me just throw in that it took me over three weeks to get these items. Items it would normally take me three days to get. I ordered them directly from the nice folks at Speedo. And the nice folks at Speedo didn't bother to mention that my name on the billing address had to be exactly the name as on my credit card. Then when I ordered in my name minus the middle initial, and my credit card has a middle initial, the nice folks at Speedo neglected to send me an email telling me there was a problem. When I called the nice folks at Speedo they said, "Oh, we've been looking for you!" Yeah, maybe their goggles were fogged.

The earplugs rock. They're clear (a happy step up from my other neon orange ones), and really nicely shaped. The goggles, though. Not it. Not what I wanted.

I can tell whether or not I'm going to wear a pair of goggles on the very first try. There are only two requirements I have for goggles. I'm just an everyday swimmer, not the national freestyle champ. Only two little things. They have to be no-fog, and no-leak. That should be so simple. No-fog, no-leak.

You can tell immediately if you're gonna get no-leak or not. It all comes down to a simple sound. "pbbbbbt." It's the only time I can think of where "pbbbbbbt" is actually a welcome sound. Put a lens over each eye, push it against your face, and "pbbbbbbt." Success. It's all sucked in, and you're generally leak-free. Generally. There are a few instances where you don't know until you're submerged, but it's a pretty good bet. "pbbbbbbbt," and you're home free. I put on my new ones yesterday, pushed them towards my eyes and, " ." Oh, shit. True to form, halfway through lap one, the corner of my left eye was burning like fury. I had leakage.

No-fog is a little trickier. You've got to swim about a lap. When you get to the end of lap two and you've hit the stairs with your nose, it's a pretty good bet you've got yourself a bad pair as far as no-fog is concerned. After popping up out of the water screaming, "My eyes! My eyes!" I noticed that these goggles were amazingly free of fog. So it kind of went, "My eyes! My eyes! Hmmm!"

I went ahead and swam laps (21, of course, 7 of each grouping of 3. I'm not anal or anything, am I?), taking the goggles off and on, off and on, dripping them of leakage, rubbing my eye, cursing and growling. I started to get out the ones I was wearing up until now, which were last years foggy but "pbbbbbbbt"-y ones, only with no strap, but it wasn't worth it. I'm in the process now of transferring the new strap onto the old goggles.

And so my quest continues. I'm sure that before next week, I'll have browsed a sporting goods store or online shop, looking for yet more goggles. Maybe I'll just get one of each kind. Maybe I'll become the Elton John of swim goggles. Or maybe I'll actually find a good pair, my quest will be over, and I'll become the Michael Caine of swim goggles.

But right now, I'm kind of the Mr Magoo of swim goggles.

#

( 8:53 PM ) EK B
Hellacious Monday! Then, a quick swim, an effortless salad, and time for Monday Mission.

1. Do you remember your first encounter with computers? Tell me about that. Ooooh, "open ended probe." I learned about that in class. The first time I encountered a computer was at work, circa 1984 or so. It was a dinosaur, did practically nothing, and I thought it was the most cutting edge thing I'd ever seen! I was never intimidated by it, for some reason (that's totally against nature for me), and started pounding on it right away. No internet, no Windows, no email, no nothing. So when I got my home computer, I still had LOTS to learn.

2. How late can you stay up and still be functional the next day? Do you do that very often? If I had to put an actual time on it, I'd say 4am. And that's functional as in, "get up the next morning to go to work." But I like it a lot more staying up till 5am and sleeping till 11 the next morning. I love the wee hours. And sadly enough, yes, I do it way too often. Since I don't sleep as well as I used to (it's a little better than it was three, four months ago), generally 3am is sleepy time for me. Then Wednesday is band and visiting night, generally not home till 1:30am or so, Thursday is #squeeze night, generally not in bed before 2:30am. Occasionally it all catches up with me and I'll sleep an entire day.

3. When was the last really good hug you got from another adult? Who was it and what was the situation? Well, let's see. It was probably about 3 weeks ago, when Mr M was down at the house, and leaving to go back home. It was just a nice hug, friendly and snug. I like snug.

4. One thing about children is that they all like to draw. We all shared the same ability and skill level at one time. Do you still like to draw? (Not do you think you draw well, or do others, but do you like to?) If not, how come? Did you get discouraged at some point? Mr Promoguy, sometimes I think we have ESP. See the below blog, please. (or if you don't want to read below, yes, I love to draw and do it, compulsively, a lot of the time.)

5. I way overslept today. I had to head to work with no shower (don't get too close), and I am not in the best of moods. Have you ever overslept on a day you had something important going on? What's the story there? I oversleep a lot, but generally not when I have something big going on. I'm too alert. I wake up every hour, so eventually, I'll hit the hour at which I need to rise. One time I can remember oversleeping a bit, and just being lazy about getting ready, I had to go out of town for a meeting, and to be there on time I had to leave home about 7am. I didn't leave till 7:30, and got a speeding ticket on the way.

6. Ever go shopping for something you know you can't afford? You look at it and even think about how it will look when you get it home, somehow you justify the cost and believe it can happen? And just before you get to the counter come to your senses? What was the last thing you almost bought, but thought better of it? And why the heck do we do that to ourselves? That's a toughie for me. Generally, no, I've never gone shopping for something I knew I couldn't afford. That's just damned depressing. However, I do browse for things (especially online) I can't afford and know are not in my purchasing future; new clarinets, laptop computers, dvd players, palm pilots, mounds of CDs.... What was the last thing I almost bought and thought better of it? Hmm. A couple of weeks ago I had a 72-piece set of Prismacolors (colored pencils) in an online shopping cart and just realized it was way too frivolous for me to purchase. Maybe later on. Then again, maybe not.

7. (It begins again...) It's all such a blur now. I'd asked you to help me wake up but the alarm didn't go off. It was 10 till and just I knew I'd be late. Somehow you got me here on time. How did you do that? It was like that scene in "Seinfeld" where Elaine's trying to get her boyfriend out of her apartment on time to get him to the airport so he'll leave town. In other words, I was desperate.

BONUS: Can't you see, you belong to me? I'm afraid I'm blind, someone else you'll have to find.

#

( 12:26 PM ) EK B
I'm a doodler. From way back.

I did it in school, I did it at home, watching TV, in the car, on the church program. Now I do it at work.

ThecompanyIworkfor has a lot of meetings, and I'm required to attend them. I can't fathom the thought of going in the door without a notebook or "things to do" pad. I'll start with a scribble in the margin, drag it down the page, give it eyes, a flying saucer, and before you know it, I've drawn an entire universe. Sometimes I'm still listening to the conversation in class, sometimes I abandon it altogether.

It was neat to find another person, an actual agent (ie, bigshot) for ThecompanyIwork for, who does a variation on this. We found ourselves sitting together in a class, and as soon as proceedings began, he produced a black felt-tip and began to make squares. Which he then colored in. Over and over and over, till his entire page was dripping wet black. Neato.

But I find myself doing this at work too, not just at meetings. Especially when I'm on the phone, I'll draw a little and write, draw a little and write, generally writing what I'm actually saying. So I'll end up with a note with a horse in a business suit getting ready to jump out a window and it'll say "I'll call claims for you." I've thrown away more of these than I'd ever be able to count, so, unfortunately, you won't be able to experience those.

But when we were doing some office cleaning down at ThecompanyIworkfor the other week, I actually found a few things I can show you. The first one's a simple one. Just an example of me writing my memo and drawing. Crew-cutted man with bowtie. Crew-cutted man with bowtie shows up in lots of my doodles. He's easy, and can basically be drawn without ever lifting the pen from paper. Anyway, here he is in an old note. Oh yes. And arrows. Arrows generally play a big part in doodling. They point what I need, what I don't need, what I'm thinking about needing. I like arrows.

On July 3d of this year, it was a little slow in the afternoon. Well, it was a lot slow, everyone was well on their way to holiday plans, and we were stuck in the office. So I started a little doodle on my "things to do" pad. It lasted, off and on, during work and idleness, from about 11am to 4:30, when I finally had to stop. This is doodling at its most fun. Repetitive shapes. Little boxes I can color and fill in and goof around with and, well, yes, I know it looks like something done by a mentally obssessive compulsive person, but it's fun. Here it is.

My biggest palette for doodling is my desk calendar. I always have one of those old-fashioned, 16 X 20, covers-the-whole-desk type of calendars, that I write just about everything in the world on. I also tend to draw anything that comes into mind, and what I really like doing is drawing pictures that correspond with what's happening on a certain day. Like holidays. St. Patrick's day always gets a beer mug, Valentine's day always gets a heart broken in two. During the office cleaning spree, I found some old pages from my desk calendars past. December was a good one. This one had not only Christmas, but what I'm assuming was my head after a therapy session (the panel says "brain"). Here it is. On the same calendar, of course, I remember my Jewish friends, and also note that I have a pedicure.

Now, see, here's where it gets fun. I like to draw feet on my pedicure, with whatever color I happen to have handy painting the tips of each toe. But where I really have fun is with hair. My hair appointments. It's impossible for me to just pick the date and write down the time. I have to draw some hair. Before pitching them, I brought home several of my different hair appointment panels on the calendars I found. I like the first one there. Very Dr Seuss. Unfortunately, none of my hairstyles has ever been so grand. It's just curls with no shape.

But I could doodle it for you sometime, if you like! #

( 2:32 PM ) EK B
Why do I watch golf? I don't play golf. I don't even like golf. But every weekend I seem to find myself turning over to whatever big tournament is in progress, watching these guys swing and putt. I've no idea why, and I'd like to know.

If anyone can help me with this, please submit your thesis to the comments section.

Thank you. #

( 10:15 PM ) EK B
WEEKEND! Friday Five, let's go!

1. Where were you born? Charleston, West Virginia

2. If you still live there, where would you rather move to? If you don't live there, do you want to move back? Why or why not? No, I don't live there anymore. I've no desire to go back, either. Besides the fact that it's West Virginia, Charleston has some of the worst air quality you'll ever be smothered by, thanks to the Union Carbide plant. It also has a fairly nice Capitol Mall area, but anyplace a person could afford to live is really ugly.

3. Where in the world do you feel the safest? Wow. I guess in the Poderosa. Especially now that Mr Snake has moved along down the line.

4. Do you feel you are well-traveled? Yeah, I feel like I am. When my sister and I were kids, our folks thought nothing of throwing us in the car and taking off anywhere. So we grew up liking to hit the road, too. I've travelled a lot of the country, and have gone outside it a few times.

5. Where is the most interesting place you've been? I've thought about this a lot. When I think back on places that I just loved discovering, and thinking "wheee, how neat!" I guess Newcastle sticks in my mind the most. When I visited London, we took a bus up north to Newcastle, and it's a cool city. It's dark, and hilly, and bridgey, and has nooks and crannies and nice people, and I just loved it. #

( 6:12 PM ) EK B
Well, I'm now officially an LSA 5. Officially. I was actually one back before Christmas, but I can shout it to the world now. And if you need a check written for a claim or towing bill, I can produce my very own company checkbook and write it for you. Woo-hoo, I'm the man. Or girl.

For this class, both days, I had to travel from B-field to Abingdon, about 90 minutes west. Big Tom from the 2d "Survivor" is from Rich Valley, which is in that general vicinity, and I noticed that every other mile or so, Big Tom's face was staring at me from another billboard. He seems to like to lean on Chevy trucks, judging by the pictures.

Yesterday in the car, radio-wise, I generally listened to the college radio station at ETSU. East Tennessee State University. ETSU is the only college in the country (nay, world, I guess) where you can actually go to study bluegrass music. They have a curriculum. Needless to say, their college radio station plays some hot music. Only today, we got out of class a little early, so when I climbed in the car, it wasn't hot music time, it was boring news and notes time. So I went to the "regular" station, WMMT.

WMMT is one hell of a radio station. It's a public radio station, but you won't hear a lot of Nina Totenberg and "All Things Considered." You won't hear Beethoven and Brahms. A story I've told before is, the day I was listening to WMMT and heard "How Great Thou Art" followed by "Goddam The Pusherman," I knew this was my favorite radio station of all time. Their program sponsors include a lawyer whose motto is "Doing Things In The Mother Jones Tradition," and something I've yet to quite figure out called "The Otis Campbell Society." (For the uninititated, Otis Campbell was the town drunk on "The Andy Griffith Show.") I discovered Robert Earl Keen by listening to WMMT. That alone makes them worth their weight in gold.

Since the station is part and parcel of the Appalshop, an Appalachian production film/music/book/storytelling/anything else organization, a large part of the programming on WMMT includes bluegrass, old-time, gospel, and Appalachian music. Sometimes it's raw. And when I say raw, I mean, people right there at the station playing. I know there must be some days they take a truck up in the mountains and load people onto it with their instruments and carry them to the station. I heard a great band sitting in the booth (well, they may have been standing, who am I to say) singing a number called "There's Five Pounds Of Possum In My Headlights Tonight." It was all about the feast they were about to have. Then they finished up with a number called "I'd Rather Die Young And Be Forgotten Than Live And Grow Older With You." That was a good day.

There are other shows, though. Wednesday mornings, there's a show with two women who call themselves Biscuits & Ham. They play music and talk about their lives as wives and women. Now, I must tell you, it wasn't always Biscuits & Ham. The show started out with Biscuits & Gravy, but alas, Gravy's family moved and she had to leave the show. So Biscuits recruited a younger girl, maybe for a youth perspective, and it became Biscuits & Pop Tart. I'm not sure what happened to Pop Tart, probably onwards and upwards, but now we have Biscuits & Ham. There's a show called the Men's Achievement & Human Potential Hour, I guess he's the counterpart to Biscuits & Ham, but I've not noticed it, he just plays a lot of music, and there's not a lot of talk. On Monday nights you can listen to Chickenman, who plays AC/DC and The Allman Brothers, while taking phone calls from the locals (not for requests, just to say hi), and talking a lot about the prison system. See, his son's in the lock-up, and he talks about prison injustice and takes calls from others who've suffered the same. There's even a techno/rap/modern thing I occasionally hear before Chickenman starts, called Holler to the Hood.

But today. Today I caught a gem. It was a bluegrass, bluegrass with a gospel bent, show, hosted by a gravelly-voiced older fellow called Catfish John, and a fairly shrill older woman named Jean. Now, I'm assuming she was Mrs Catfish John, but that may be a mistake on my part. This was the kind of program you would have heard back in the day. Calls, requests, shout-outs to the shut-ins, and lots of love.

For the first half-hour after I got in the car, Catfish John was going on about Aunt Sally, who they loved and who Starvin' Marvin loved (Starvin' Marvin is MMT's station manager). Aunt Sally had her son and daughter in law visiting, but they went back home, and now Sally's alone again. So they played her some songs. And they loved her some more. Even Jean this time. Aunt Sally's son, who was visiting and went back home, it seems left Catfish John & Jean a CD when he left, and they loved him for it. But they couldn't remember his name. So, they loved him by proxy. They played a song from this CD, called "God's Coloring Book." Only it wouldn't play. And Catfish John says, "Well, I can't get the thing to play in this CD player. I'm gonna have to try the other one." (dead air) "Well, it won't play in this one either. Jean, we're gonna have to get another CD player." "Ohhh-kay!" says Jean.

Next, they play a song and dedicate it to the folks at the Hall & Johnson Funeral Home. "They are just good country people, and we love you," says Jean. (I'm still trying to decide if "good" and "country" are the requirements I have for people putting away my loved one.) So they play "Ready For The Rapture." Appropriate, appropriate.

Now, Catfish John starts talking about Aunt Sally some more and her son, who was visiting her but left to go back home, and in the meantime, the phone rings in the background. And you hear Jean say, "WMMTaayyee. Yes. Yes. Well, you're such a fine person, we just love you." All this during Catfish John's oath of love for Sally and her son, who left her to go back home, whose name he doesn't remember. Then Catfish John announces they're going to play a song off a CD called "Songs of Zion," which is full of old time religion songs, and it was given to them by.... (dead air) And dear Jean comes to the rescue by saying, whilst walking to the mic, so only half of it is at normal sound level, "caroLYN WHEELER." They didn't say they loved Carolyn, but they did bless her heart several times, so that's good enough for me.

At this point, Catfish John announces that Starvin' Marvin has just come in and brought him a hat that has an American Flag on it. And I swear, Catfish John sounds like he's going to cry. I almost got misty just listening.

Jean reads an email from L.C. It's addressed to "The Catfishes," so I guess that means Jean and John ARE married. L.C. requests "One Drop of Water," and Catfish John goes on to tell us how they used to have a CD of that song but it was (dead air) lost. I know he was wanting to say "stolen," but was too kind to cough it out. So guess what. Seems Reverend Paul gave them his copy of the CD with "One Drop of Water" on it, so Jean could make them another copy to play on the air. I guess copyrighting isn't that big a deal in the world of the Catfishes. Anyway, they just loved Paul for doing this, and loved his whole family, Paul, Weegee, and little Hillard.

After that song, Catfish John and Catfish Jean go on to have a conversation about something that's going on at the Bristol Speedway, a music show, I think. I say "think," because this whole conversation was conducted with Catfish John at the microphone, and Jean, well, she was either in the bathroom or had her head in a filing cabinet. You could hear maybe every fourth word she said. I guess she was looking for a song requested by someone, that she loved.

As I was pulling into town, Catfish John was telling us about little Betty Jean, who he loved and Jean loved and Starvin' Marvin loved, and who just everybody who knows her loves. I didn't get to hear her song, but I'm sure she loved it as much as they all loved her.

See, this is what Public Radio should be. The two Public Radio stations closest to me, OK, one's in Roanoke, VA, but the other's West Virginia Public Radio, have news and classical music. (OK, WVPR has the "Mountain Stage" program, which is great, I'll give them that.) But "Public Radio" implies it's for "the public." The public here are generally down-home people. We know people like Paul, Weegie, & little Hillard, and little Betty Jean, and Aunt Sally, whose son was visiting her, but left to go home with his wife, Sally's daughter in law, and they left her alone again.

Thanks for my afternoon, Catfish John and Jean. I just love you both!

#

( 10:00 PM ) EK B
By the way, I encountered this story yesterday on cnn.com. If I felt better, I'd probably blog about it. It kinda caught my imagination, for some reason. Lady Justice, help this guy out! #

( 9:49 PM ) EK B
I'm sick.

I spent the entire day in class. For work. A class that wasn't fun.

I'm trying to get a "thing." It's not so much a promotion. More a designation. A title. I'm on my way to becoming an "LSA 5," which is basically as high on the ladder as I can go. I've already passed all the testing, taken all the continuing ed courses I need, jumped through all the hoops. Except one. This class.

I've already dodged it once. In fact, I scheduled my vacation to coincide with it. I'd heard horror stories about it. And they were basically true.

It's total corporate bullshit. But at the end of the bullshit comes my designation. If I can complete the class.

I still have one day to go. I'm sitting here after the first day, head pounding, stomach turning. I'm already dreading tomorrow.

There's a lot of "class participation" in this thing. Roleplaying. God, how I hate role playing. And game playing. And rah-rah go team stuff. I do my job and I do it well. Everyone has room for improvement, but is mine going to come by my getting in front of a group of people and telling them "a fact about me that no one else knows?" I came so close to saying, "The first time this class was offered, I scheduled my vacation around it." But I don't guess I want to give too much away.

Anyway, jobs are jobs, and we all have to play the game from time to time. And I guess it's my time to play.

I'm not liking it, though. Please pray for me for tomorrow. I need it.
#

( 11:43 PM ) EK B
Well, Payday has come and gone. And I finally caved and went to the grocery -- considering how long I'd been hedging and all I was out of, I got off fairly light, payment-wise. Can't complain there.

Also had to go to the WalMart to pick up those various and sundry items that are so much cheaper there than anywhere else. There's always something (or someone) of note to see at the WalMart, it's a veritable wonderland of oddness. Today was a goodie. There was a car in the parking lot, a row over from mine, that was all soaped, ribboned, and decorated up, and said "Just Married" on it. Just Married?? And your first trip together in the bonds of holy matrimony is to the WalMart??? I saw it as I was coming out; shame, really, I would have looked closer for a couple in bridal gown and tuxedo while I was inside.

That said, let's do the Monday Mission, courtesy, as always, of PromoGuy:

1. Have you ever sold anything through an online auction? What did you sell and did you make very much? Actually, yes I have. I sold a bunch of Barbies and my old oboe, trying to get some cash together for a trip I was taking. I made about $1000 or so, but it was a colossal pain in the ass, posting the items, watching the auctions, I didn't get over my reserve for any of them, one woman wanted the item before she gave me the money, and one woman really tried to get me on claiming my item arrived in "poor condition." Thank goodness I had pictures of items, packaging, and the whole nine yards. When I called her on it, she never complained or even left negative feedback. Let's just say, I'd do it again if desperate, but I'd rather not.

2. Have you ever bought anything through an online auction? How was your experience? I've bought loads of things off ebay. In fact, I'm in the process of buying a couple things right now. Everything from CDs to Barbies to Sherman and Peabody collectibles to old high school yearbooks. I can honestly say I've never had a bad experience doing it. I've been lucky in that respect.

3. Do you like the sun? Getting a suntan? Have you ever had a bad sunburn? As a rule, no, I'm not overly fond of the sun. Laying out in the sun makes me feel like I've run a marathon. And my skin's very fair, so I just burn, and my arms get all blotchy, and it's not pretty. However, the older I get, the less it bothers me, for some reason. I've actually spent a few enjoyable afternoons out in the sun already this summer. Yes, I've had a few very bad sunburns. When I was little, we'd always go to the beach, and I'd always get a terrible sunburn the first couple days, and be so miserable I couldn't sleep. Those were in the days before people knew how evil the sun could be. I still kinda worry about that today.

4. Are you a vegetarian? Why? If not, have you ever considered it? I'm not a vegetarian, I wouldn't say I eat a lot of meat, but I do like it, and don't seem to be able to give it up. Having said that, I am in admiration of those who are vegetarians, I think it's certainly a kinder and healthier lifestyle. That is, I'm in admiration if and only if they choose not to push down my throat their superiority because they are vegetarians. Ditto with non-smokers, fitness buffs, and constant dieters.

5. Suppose you are getting into your car after you've just made your purchase from a store you visit twice a week. You suddenly realize you had a .35� item in your hand and you forgot to pay for it. What would you do next? (what *would* you do, not what *should* you do) No question. I'd take it back. I've actually done this! I went back around the Wendy's once and sat in the drive-thru for 15 minutes because my first time around, they gave me a dollar too much in change.

6. Sometimes it seems that there is just not enough time to do everything that must be done. Was there anything you wanted to accomplish this weekend that didn't get done? Well, let's see, lemme look in my Friday blog. My goals this weekend: sleep late, get the Comfy Chair problem sorted out, buy my dad a birthday present, and get enough groceries to get me to payday. Well, I slept late, check that one right off, got the Comfy Chair problem sorted out, or rather, Stennie did, didn't get the birthday present done, and I'll be running around at the last minute, I'm sure, and I got groceries today. So, that's not too bad. Then again, it's not like I had a mountain of stuff planned, either.

7. What is your favorite game to play with a group and/or an individual? (board game, computer game, athletic, etc.) Well, my favorite one-to-one or with a group, is Trivial Pursuit. I've loved it since it first came out. I like charades, and always loved the home versions of games like $20,000 Pyramid, Password, Family Feud.... And I used to have the coolest thing, it was called the Jeopardy Challenger, and it was a little hand-held thingie that you could play along with the game on TV, and it would calculate your scores to compare with the players. I played with it till I wore it out. Funny, I love playing Jeopardy, but I never watch it anymore.

BONUS: One headline why believe it ? Because!! It's from the Weekly World News!!!!

#

( 1:06 PM ) EK B
This blog is to announce there'll be no blogging today.

I'm headed out to B'burg to do nothing (I'm supposing) with Mr M. I asked what was on the agenda and his answer was, and I quote, "What? You think this is the Love Boat and I'm Julie?" That means it's degrade myself by playing the clarinet, and just hang out on the couch. Which is cool, it's exactly what I'd do if I were here. (I hate this was/were delimma for "I." I should be was. It's singular. But when I say If I was, I get slapped on the hand. Screw grammar. Right in the eye.)

Anyway, however, before I go, I would like to say that my own personal web maven, the very lovely and semi-voluptuous Stennie, has solved the Comfy Chair puzzle for me. Apparently, I was exceeding the paltry web space given me free by my provider. So now I get to buy some more! Wheeeeeeeeee! I think I still have a box of Rice A Roni in the cabinet I can dine on a few days! Anyway, a big thank you to the Stennster, who's always there when I have to make a foray into the big bad forest of computer tech. If Captain Asshole is my superhero, then Stennie (who needs a big S on her chest) is surely my superheroine.

See yall Monday! #

( 10:17 PM ) EK B
Another success today! For about the sixth week, I successfully dodged going to buy weekly groceries!

I used to go every week. Every Saturday or Sunday, and I could not get out of there for less than $75 or so. I bought things I wanted to fix in the coming week, things that caught my fancy, things that it would be fun to try out. Perishable things. And things still in my cabinet I'm looking at going "huh?"

Only now, I'm eating those things that made me go "huh?" Cause, well, I'm kinda poor.

It was the funniest thing. Funny strange, not funny ha-ha. I bought the Poderosa in November. I had to totally drain my savings accounts for closing. And I closed. And I knew things would be rougher, I'd have more bills, etc. But for the first three or so months, things were OK. I was cruising along, and even building my savings accounts back up. Then *WHAP!* I hit a brick wall somewhere. I know not where, as the Poderosa's frame. Maybe it came out of nowhere to hit me.

Now I guess it's time for another Betster disclaimer, times being what they are and all. When I say I'm poor, I am poor. I'm poor to me. There's a certain level my checkbook could dip below where I would panic, and I'm almost there. And yet I have a car, house, job, and I am eating 3 meals a day. So I'm not blind enough not to know that there are people out there who are really poor, and have nothing, and that I shouldn't bitch. Maybe skint is the term I need to use, but I'm used to poor, so I'll still use it. OK, that over, now let's go on.

In March, I got tax refunds. Federal and State. I used the State to buy my TV for the bedroom, which was a good purchase, I don't regret that. I don't even regret the extra few bucks I have to fork over to the hated cable company each month. I did regret the shitty "installation fee" I had to pay, even though I already had two cable boxes in my house. That's just money-grubbing if you ask me.

The Federal refund I used to take my trip to Atlanta to the Barbie show. Well, the hotel went on my credit card, and the money went for everything else. And although I had a blast, I generally don't have much to show for it, save for a couple of doll things, and two Elvis Costello CDs. In other words, *pfffffft!* into the wind.

So, those were my windfalls. Last time I had my trusty vehicle, known as the Noonle or the Podmobile, depending on who you're talking to, serviced, the tally came to $284.someodd. As much as I drive, anything they tell me the Noonle needs, it's gotta have. I don't like sitting on the side of the road. I had some blood tests done, I have to do that every few months, and somewhere between 2001 and 2002 the lab decided they were all going to retire courtesy of me, because the cost for having a bloodtest doubled. And yes, I've mentioned it before, just because I work in insurance doesn't mean I have good health insurance. It actually pays for incredibly little that a person has done. Coming up is my yearly (turn away, boys) "women's physical." It'll go on the credit card, no way can I pay for it up front.

Now, there are good things. With summer, although the electric bill has almost doubled, the gas bill has plummeted. I loved the plummeting. It was cool to see. Heehee, cool, get it? Plus the fact that my parents bought the kids 1000 minute phone cards for Christmas, and I'm still cruising on mine. No long distance bills.

So, see, it's not the end of the world. It's not Waltons time. I'm stumbling along, getting by. I try to make it a fun adventure, actually. Let's play "Exotic Dinner!" A month old frozen chicken filet, some asian style Rice A Roni in the cabinet from February (it seemed such fun at the time), and the last of the kosher dill halves. Mmmmmm, the tastes of America, The Orient, and The Hebrew People all in one meal! How good does it get!

And I am getting to try out all those shampoos, conditioners, and facial washes I've bought and couldn't really decide if I liked. I'm liking them. I'm liking them till they're used up, anyway. Then I don't have to like them again. Oh, and "Plan The Wardrobe" is a fun game. My summer wardrobe is a little, well, lacking, so I get to come up with combinations of my few pants and few shirts that work out for five days without repeating. That one's a challenge!

So, see, poverty can be fun!

But I'll let you in on a little secret. It's not nearly as fun as payday. #

( 10:36 PM ) EK B
No Friday Five. Bummer.

OK, here's what I'll do.

A List Of Things

My award for the biggest musical whores of recent years goes to Smashmouth. I can't turn on the TV anymore without hearing one of their songs hawking everything from Dairy Queen to cars to kids' clothes. Aren't they making enough with hit singles and albums?

My goals this weekend: sleep late, get the Comfy Chair problem sorted out, buy my dad a birthday present, and get enough groceries to get me to payday.

I currently have two e-Bay auctions in the hat: a Mr Peabody necklace, and a pair of Sherman sunglasses and Peabody sunglasses.

I just posted (it's all the rage!) my friendtest. Take a test to see if you know me. Take it here.

This flea product commercial that features the world's dumbest veterinarian (who can't answer the questions "are cats smarter than dophins," and "should I feed my bulldog bean dip")? The dumb veterinarian is ALSO the mother of the girl who "falls down a lot" ("she has my 'natural grace'") in the Neosporin commercials.

I'm looking for a few good bras.

Swingline makes a hell of a stapler.

There's a Reese's Cup Blizzard in my freezer as we speak.

I'm feeling very thankful today. My mom had to have some medical tests done, and got word back today she's A-OK. I've been on pins and needles for about the last 10 days, and I'm a happy girl right now.

I'm just about ready for College Football Season!

OK. That's about it. I'm gonna go chill for a while, literally, and within an hour, the third fact counting up from here will no longer be true. Happy weekend!

#

( 10:41 PM ) EK B
As I'm sure you know, I have a 13 year old nephew. He's the coolest guy, and the light of my life. And my best buddy. But sometimes he drives me crazy!!

I know it's not his fault. Kids today are just, well, different than they used to be.

Of course, in my day, we had it hard.

OK, OK, not only did I steal that from Monty Python, it's not even true, really. I didn't have it hard growing up. I had a pretty average American Kid upbringing. But things are different. The world is different. It can't be helped.

Now, first of all, let me tell you a brief story. When my nephew, hereafter known as DJ TaytieMac, was born, I didn't particularly want him in my life. Nothing personal against him, I just didn't really like kids. Never been around any, didn't know how to act around them, had no interest in cooing and cahhing and changing diapers and the whole nine yards. But when I visited him the day after he was born, my heart melted like chocolate left in the glove compartment, and it was love at first sight. I then had to change my whole way of thinking: I'm an aunt! Holy shit, I'm an aunt! So I set about deciding I had to be a kickass aunt.

Anyone with any cool at all knows that the prototype of the kickass aunt is Auntie Mame. I mean, who wouldn't want her around? But even though she was real, Auntie Mameism in today's world is a little hard to fathom. And I don't have my own apartment at 3 Beekman Place. Designed by Ule Ullul.

So I picked my own personal Auntie Mame. My cousin Jacob's mother, Nadine. She was one cool aunt. I mean, with a name that's a Chuck Berry song, she had to rock, right? Nadine wasn't an "old" person, like other grownups were; she was a single mom, and she was great. She loved all the pop music we did, she knew who all our idols at the time were, she could sing along with us to Monkees songs. When we wanted to go to record stores, or out for ice cream, and our parents would say, "ehhh, you don't need that," Nadine would pile us in the car, start it up, and turn on the radio. She drove us by cute boys' houses. Nadine died way too young of a rotten disease, which should happen to nobody, but especially not to one so wonderful.

OK. Now I've picked my goal. I'm gonna be a Nadine aunt. And at times I really think I succeed. I mean, I give TaytieMac a lot of leeway. He's certainly one of the only people, much less kids, to have access to my toys. And my computer. And my CDs. I've endoctrinated him into the world of Monty Python, school bands, Squeeze and Elvis C., and I try to keep up with his TV/Music/Movie tastes. I let him climb all over me, elbows and knees, and let him bully me unmercifully in the pool. And I love it.

But then there'll come a point when my cool Nadineness fades, and I start sounding like a Mom. yeccccch. And I guess it's because I can't reconcile his kidhood with mine.

I think the one biggie, the one I just can't get over, is how kids today have to be entertained every flipping minute of the day. I don't know what of that sentence should actually be in italics, the "every minute of the day" or the "to be entertained." Because kids today don't entertain themselves. They have to have some outside stimulus to entertain them. I swear, my nephew can't enjoy what he's doing at the moment, because he's too worried thinking about what he's gonna do when he gets finished with what he's doing now. The video game doesn't get finished because he wants to go swimming, and no sooner does he get wet than he thinks about his buddy down the street who might be free to golf (for some reason all the 12-14 year olds in my town have summer junior passes to the local golf course), and by the time the two of them are on hole 6 they've concocted a plan to pick up a couple more buddies and con one of their mothers into taking them to the movies. Of course, they miss half the movie because they're too busy talking together about whose house they're gonna meet at tomorrow, and how they're gonna fit all those boys onto one tennis court. But that's OK, because in six months they'll get their folks to buy them the video of said movie, and they'll watch it seventeen times in a row. Kids do this.

Sinbad, the comic, used to do a great routine about "kids today." My favorite part of it was how everything comes so quick for them. Think CDs. Instant happiness; you don't like the song playing, hit a button, you get to the next one. When he was a kid, he said, they had 8-tracks (as did we!); you don't like the song playing, you just drive around some more, that's your fast forward. I think that pretty much sums up the life of a kid today. Always that button there to push to something you like better.

When my nephew stays with my grandparents for an afternoon, he generally wears them out. Either they entertain him by playing whatever is his fancy that day, or he calls some buddies, who come over and my folks have to entertain then clean up after them, or they take him to another buddy's house, and pick him up, or they take him back to his folks' house so he can get his golf clubs/Playstation/CD case/baseball bat/etc etc etc. Which, don't get me wrong, my folks could stop at any time by saying, "Excuse me, no. You're going to stay here and entertain yourself. At least for a couple of hours." See that's just it. When people MY age were kids, that was expected! There were certain things you had to do that you didn't want to. There were some times you knew your afternoon was going to be a bore, and you just had to endure it. The only thing that kept you alive was that dream of going home, and knowing you could go upstairs and get out a toy, or hit your bike and ride the neighborhood. I don't think kids today know what that, um, "special feeling" is like. They need to.

Lately with DJ TaytieMac, I had to switch gears from cool Nadine aunt to yeccchy Mom aunt. It wasn't fun.

My nephew loves music. Loves CDs, and has a gaggle of them. And he treats them like shit. Never puts them in the cases, or a CD wallet. Throws them all over the place, you find them in all his family's cars, under couch cushions, under his bed, mixed up with his Playstation games, at his friends', at his friends' friends', and at people who may have met his friends' friends', but that he doesn't even know. It sucks that he does this with his music, but, hey, that's his own affair. When he does it with MY music, it's war.

I'm torn between wondering whether or not I'm justified in waging war on my little cuteface TaytieMac over this subject. Because when I was a wee one, I did the same thing. Only with records. I didn't put them in their sleeves, would stack them all together on a table. I still have lots of records from my childhood, but they're broken or scratched to where they're not much fun to play anymore. If you promise not to tell anyone, I'll even tell you how I broke my James Taylor "Sweet Baby James" album, when the baton I was twirling to "Fire and Rain" got loose from me and landed on the turntable. Personally, I think the funny part of that story (not the thought of me losing my baton onto an album) is that I'd choose to twirl my baton to that song. "Yes, now twirling her way into your hearts with her routine of suicide and mental hospital confinement, is the lovely Elizabeth Bowles!" But anyway, am I hypocritical to stay on TaytieMac for doing something I used to do at his age, or am I just lending him the wisdom of my mistakes? In either case, I'm not Nadine aunt.

I had to confiscate all my CDs from his reach when I went looking for a particular one, only to find it missing, not in its case, and then I had to solve the great puzzle of this CD being in this person's case, and that person's CD being in this band's case, and this band's CD being in no case at all, and ... well, you get the idea.

I tried not to lecture him too much, just told him he knew how I felt, then called in all my CDs to take back to my house. And now he doesn't have access to my music, and I feel like No Fun aunt. But I'm holding steadfast for now.

Still, with all the stuff that makes me want to scream, I have to tell you. DJ TaytieMac is a sweetheart. He's cool, he's got an unbelieveable sense of humor, a heart a mile wide, he's nice to everyone, and brightens a room just by walking in it. If he just didn't turn me into yeccchy Mom aunt sometimes. Grrrrrrrr!

These kids today......

#

( 10:08 PM ) EK B
Well, things at Comfy Chair Central are still in a holding pattern.

I've tried many many things, and even a new version of Coffee Cup (what I'm using to create the Comfy Chair), but nothing's working. Photos are tiny red exes in blocks, and word pages are totally blank.

I'm not at all well over this whole thing, so I'm going to go. I don't want to get into another frustration rant.

On the plus side, "Clueless" is on USA. We just finished "What, you think the death of Sammy Davis Jr left an opening in the Rat Pack?" and "Anything happens to my daughter, I have a .45 and a shovel. I don't think anyone will miss you," and are heading up on "He's a disco-dancin', Oscar Wilde-readin', Streisand ticket-holdin' friend of Dorothy's."

That will give me the will to go on! #

( 10:17 PM ) EK B
Boy, if there was ever a time for Monday Mission.....What A Day! (I guess that happens after you close an office two days.)

1. Have you had to repair anything lately? Did you do it yourself or have someone else do it? HA! See below. My clarinet, and no, I've no knowledge of that whatsoever, Mr M did it for me. Plus, I'm still waiting for a roofer to come and push down some tiles on the roof of the Poderosa.

2. Do you work out or exercise? Or is there anything you do each day for your health? Oh, geez. I don't get nearly enough exercise. During the summer I try to swim at least semi-regularly (which I did tonight, thank you), and very occasionally I'll get bored enough to walk a little when it's cooler. I'm horrible at it. I suck at anything athletic.

3. Are you a modest person? That is, would you be embarrassed for someone (an acquaintance, a friend, a stranger) to see you nude? I would be mortified for someone to see me nude. And that's partly because I am modest and partly because I look relatively like Jabba The Hut.

4. What are some odors that you just can not stand to smell? Milk. Potato Soup. Vomit. (what's the difference in those three, really?)

5. Are there any social situations that make you uncomfortable? Generally all of them. Well, I'm better than I was at one time, but meeting new people still scares the pants off me. Which, seeing as how I'm so modest, is not a good thing.

6. Has a friend or an employer ever asked you to do something you felt was unethical or? What was it and what happened? Someone at school basically bullied me into helping her cheat on a Spanish test. And I wouldn't stand up to her. Hell, I'd help out a buddy, but this girl didn't give two shits about me, she just wanted my answers. As far as work, I've not had an employer do that, but I get clients in the office all the time that want me to help them "bend the truth" when they realize the answer they've given me isn't going to get them what they want. I won't do it. It's not fair to the people who tell the truth.

7. (continued) Well, we are not yet at our destination, though the way you described it, it sounds simply amazing. What is the first thing we should do once we get there? Well, since it's Philadelphia, first we'll go see the Liberty Bell. I love the Liberty Bell, man. Then we'll have lunch at the Hard Rock Cafe so I can get another guitar pin. I collect them.

BONUS: In this whole world, what is fair? My skin. And that's about it.

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( 9:59 PM ) EK B
Well, I'm just bumfuzzled.

I've been trying since Wednesday night to post a certain blog, one that comes with illustrations. Illustrations that I'd have to upload to my site. Only since Wednesday, I haven't been able to upload any pictures to my site.

I checked with my ISP, and I have plenty of webspace left, so they tell me. So it's somewhere in my html-ftp-m-o-u-s-e. I know so little about that that I'm just stumped. Is the Comfy Chair on hold forever? One knows not. But I'm too vexed right now to think about it much more. I've left it for now, because I'm trying to remain cool.

Mr M was able to fix my clarinet. That's something I hadn't told you about. Embarrassment, I guess. Thursday night after the July 4th crapalicious celebration in Blacksburg, I went to Mr M's for a while. Eventually, he started playing his clarinet, so I followed suit. I'm getting increasingly frustrated with my playing abilities, and well, after not being able to play a certain piece after several tries, I got so angry & frustrated I slammed my horn into Mr M's music stand and broke a key on the joint. After a short dressing down and a long discussion, he kept my horn to work on it, and, true to Captain Asshole superhero form, fixed it for me. And the time of not having my horn kind of made me think about it not being such a great idea to slam it into heavy objects anymore.

Odd thing, frustration. It's my nemesis. It's the one thing that can make me cry the quickest. I've broken more objects that way, including my music stand a mere two weeks ago (A cool stationary-looking one that was also portable. But they didn't have that anymore, so I had to spend $57 on a portable stand and a stationary one). My phone at work has a piece broken out of it where I slammed it down after getting a busy signal over and over. Ditto one at home, I was trying to get concert tickets and after dialing for about an hour and getting a busy signal, I just hurled the phone at the wall, breaking it into several pieces. Continued on another phone, only to get through and find out the show was sold out. I can't even begin to count the remotes I've broken flinging them at the wall.

I start working on a problem. Let's say this one with the computer and uploading, the one I mentioned above. It's totally new to me. I've never had this problem before, and I try a few things and think and scratch my chin, and try a few more things. And they don't work. And I get frustrated. I tell myself I'm stupid, I'm an idiot, and if I try enough and get no results, the tears will come. Luckily, the computer is a large and heavy object, and is not easily thrown against a wall.

The thing I'm trying to say is, I expect myself to naturally know everything. And if I don't, I convince myself I'm scum. I'm sure you could put the engine of an airplane in front of me and ask me to fix it, and I'd find a way to blame myself for not being able to do it correctly.

I've gone over this in the scary recesses of my psyche more times than you can imagine. I've traced my childhood and upbringing. I can't understand why I put all this pressure on myself. Why, if someone else doesn't know how to solve a computer problem, or play a musical piece perfectly, or draw the most beautiful picture, or know the most trivia, that's perfectly OK. After all, they're only human. So why can't I give myself that same courtesy?

I've thought about it almost non-stop since the clarinet incident. Well, I'm beginning to think I may have an idea. I won't go into all the whys and wherefores, but I'm postulating a theory. And if it turns out to be wrong, I'll cry, and, well, I'll hide my remotes.... #

( 7:04 PM ) EK B
Well, after taking a little blogging break, I'm back at it. And what a great time for the Friday Five to come along. Let's roll.

1. Where are you right now? I'm in the den of the Poderosa, at my computer. The TV's on to the news, and I have ice water for refreshment.

2. What have you lost recently? Depends on what you mean by "lost." I've lost my music stand, and quite possibly my clarinet, to stupidity and anger. But lost as in couldn't find anywhere...lemme think. Oh, I know. A Barbie outfit. I have a replica of the old classic "Solo In The Spotlight" somewhere that I was going to dress a makeover doll in, and I can't seem to locate it anywhere.

3. What was the first CD you ever purchased? Does that embarrass you now? "The Joshua Tree," by U2. No, it doesn't really embarrass me. As overblown as U2 (publicity and ego-wise) have a propensity for being, I still like the song "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For," (and a few others of theirs) and listen to it from time to time.

4. What is your favorite kind of writing pen? I am a pen and pencil fanatic! My favorite pen of all time was the "No Nonsense Pen," I don't know if they still even make that, I sure haven't seen one around. I like Cross pens, and I had a great black one my mom bought me several years ago, that I lost about a year ago. I still miss it - I love the weight of those pens in your hand - and I keep half-heartedly expecting it to show up in an old pocketbook somewhere. But alas, no. Right now, I'm using Pilot G-2 pens. Hard enough to go through carbon (for work), but with the feel of a felt tip. And as an added bonus, nothing beats Prismacolor colored pencils.

5. What is your favorite ice cream flavor? Ummmm. At Baskin-Robbins, it's Pralines and Cream. Breyers is Chocolate Chip. I like anything that's chocolate with nuts. And I like vanilla with Cocoa Krispies on it, and chocolate with Rice Krispies on it. OK, so I'm weird. But I like ice cream.
#

( 10:46 PM ) EK B
An odd thing....

When I was four or five, or somewhere in between, I fractured my arm. Jumping off a wire cable between two poles. Just like the big kids. After the fall, I cried all afternoon, my mom and dad couldn't console me, I cried all during dinner and into the evening. At that point, they realized something might be wrong, so they took me to the emergency room for treatment. When the staff were told I fell and it was my arm, they called Dr Raub. I was just little, but I immediately sensed a vibe from my folks. They weren't sure about Dr Raub. "He's the best there is," the nurses said, and my folks had no trouble believing that. It's just his manner. I think I heard "rough as a cob" bandied about, and even at my age, I knew I was gonna be afraid of this big bad doctor who was about to start yanking on my painful arm. What I found out later was that Dr Raub had a reputation as a no-nonsense kinda guy.

So there I sat in the hospital, blubbering, and in came Dr Raub. An imposing figure to be sure. But Big Bad Dr Raub was nice to me. He told me all about what the x-ray machine would be like and what it would do, and he explained how I'd get a cast, and showed me how they made the casts and told me what it would feel like.

During my "recovery," I got to visit Dr Raub's office. It smelled like a cast. And a cigar. A cigar in a cast. And it was full to the brim with African artifacts. Seems the Dr spent all his off-time in Africa big-game hunting. Zebra skins, animal heads on the walls, stuffed jungle animals, elephant feet footstools, everywhere you looked. As a kiddie, of course, I was amazed by this, and he let me wander around and stroke all the fur and pat the animal heads.

Now, here's the disclaimer: This was in the day before big-game hunting was villified - as it should be. But you know, simpler times. And I was also at an age where furry animals were fun to look at and touch, and I didn't really think a lot about the fact that the elephant footstools used to belong to elephants who were up walking around.

Anyway, the day came when I had my last visit to the African office where it smelled like the casts were freshly made. In one last nice gesture, Dr Raub ran the electric saw up and down his arm to show me it wouldn't hurt getting my cast cut off. And so I was set free. And for months I got to overhear my parents tell people, "I don't know, they say he's a rough ol' guy, but he and Betsy [yes, Betsy] got along just fine." And I'd beam. I got along with Dr Raub.

There's a story on the wire services today about an American who was murdered in Zimbabwe, in an apparent carjacking. An American who'd retired to Africa and owned a large acreage of land and kept game on his property. It was Dr Raub.

Wish I had some really interesting philosophical thing to say. But I don't. He's just someone I remember very fondly from my childhood. Bye, Dr Raub.

That said, time for Monday Mission, which treads a little familiar ground, I see.

1. In the United States of America, it was recently ruled that the phrase "one nation under God" in the Pledge of Allegiance is unconstitutional. Do you agree with this ruling? Should the phrase "under God" be removed? Why? Well, this is kinda halfway in a long rambly way covered in my blog of June 27th. I'll sum it up in one line: I don't see why everyone's up in arms over the debate that it COULD be taken out.

2. When was the last time you took a road trip? Where did you go and what did you do? In March. Jacob, Mr M, and I went to Atlanta for a Barbie show. It was fun, having my two closest friends spending the weekend with me and with each other. I also learned a lot about tipping!

3. Do you have any vacations planned for this summer? Already gone? Where to and what? I don't have a thing planned. I normally wait till everyone else has taken their vacations to take mine, as they all have families and I'm single. I'm thinking, though, of just taking a week in August to do nothing but veg, or maybe take a day trip or something. Then I'll take my other week nearer to the end of the year.

4. What is the most drastic change to your appearance that you have ever made? Are you brave enough to post a photo? You know, you asked us this question once before, and I'll answer mine the same way, being that I once lost a lot of weight. No photos though, too depressing.

5. Tell me about something to which you are committed? Wow, that's hard. I guess if I had to answer that, I'd say I'm committed to playing my instruments well. I learned the oboe "from scratch" and worked hard on it till I was playing solos in our band. And now that I've switched back to clarinet, I'm pretty committed to getting as good as I once was on it.

6. Now tell me about something you just flat-out gave up on. Embarrassingly enough, education. I could have gone on to get a degree, even if it was a generalized one and not in my major, but after three years of college I just, well, to quote you, Mr PromoGuy, flat-out gave up.

7. (new saga) I've had it, this place is just wearing me out. You too? We need a break! Let's head out and go someplace new. You make the plans, I'll get things ready. So what do you have it mind, and did you want me to pick up anything special to pack for the trip? Oh, boyeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!! Well, I think we're gonna go on a road trip of cities I like. So pack comfy clothes, and lots of money for nice hotels, and some good CDs for the stereo and some board games for when were in the room. Rooms. Separate rooms, of course. First stop, Philadelphia. I haven't been there in a while.

BONUS: Where is my hairbrush? Well, I saw it here somehwere, let's see, lemme look, I... wait. Oh, here it is. It was in my hair.

#

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