Well, here's you solution:
Well, here's you solution:
By Barbara Quinn
KNIGHT RIDDER NEWSPAPERS
The real story of creation...
In the beginning, God created the Heavens and the Earth and populated the Earth with colorful fruits and vegetables of all kinds so that Man and Woman would live long and healthy lives.Then Satan created doughnuts and ice cream. And Man and Woman ate of them. And Satan smiled.
So God said, "Try my fresh green salad." And Satan presented thick creamy dressing, buttery croutons and garlic toast on the side.
God then said, "Behold, I have sent you heart-healthy vegetables and olive oil in which to cook them." And Satan brought forth deep-fried fish and chicken-fried steak.
God then created a light, fluffy white cake and named it "Angel Food." And Satan created chocolate cake and named it "Devil's Food."
God then brought forth running shoes for his children. And Satan gave them cable TV with a remote control.
God then gave lean beef so that Man might consume fewer calories and fat. And Satan created the 99-cent double bacon cheeseburger and asked, "You want to super-size those fries?"
God sighed and created quadruple bypass surgery........
And Satan created HMOs.
Here's the problem: Because of the tree, every day when I leave work, my car looks like a flock of seagulls has been circling my car, trying to recover from drinking some bad Mexican water. (Montezuma's revenge = No fun!) The bird poop is splattered on the roof, hood, windshield, doors, trunk... basically anywhere that is exposed to sunlight.
So, what do I do? I mean, that is my parking spot. You know what I mean? And it is the only spot in the shade and there is nothing I hate more than working all day in the hot, humid weather and then having to go climb into a car that is even more hot and humid.
Hell with those freakin' birds. (Whateva, whateva...) I'll park where I want!
I worked 'til 3 o'clock this afternoon and on the way home, I could tell I was driving into some nasty weather. It didn't start raining until I made it here, but now the rain is falling steadily and the thunder continues to rumble across the sky.
It makes the rest of the day perfect for a "TPWT Day."
Never heard of a TPWT Day? TPWT stands for "Trailer Park White Trash Day." Now, I'm not trying to offend anybody... I know some great people who live in trailer parks. But, when I'm talking about a TPWT Day, I'm talking about one of those days when you just sit around on your ass, watch crappy television, and do nothing productive.
As a matter of fact, I think I'm going to start now. This isn't as great as a TPWT Day that starts in the morning and you've got the whole day to nap and be lazy, but it will be close enough for me.
I'm going to go and change into some pajama pants and a t-shirt, watch a movie, and probably order some Chinese food for dinner. I'll feel guilty about it later, but that's the greatest part about it - that kind of smug, guilty feeling of enjoying something you know you probably shouldn't be doing.
The laundry is just going to have to wait.
A LIST OF FAVORITE ROSIE-ISMS
(Translations in italics.)
1. Well, that'll go over like a turd in a punch bowl. (That isn't a very good idea.)
2. What a waste of skin. (Describing somebody who is lazy.)
3. That'll knock a buzzard off a shit wagon. (Can you believe it?)
4. What? You got a date with an egg and if you break it, you're gonna have to beat it? (What's your big hurry?)
5. What a toadload. (Describing somebody who is clueless.)
6. Dee-da-boo! (A general exclamation that is versatile enough to be used in most conversations.)
7. She's just a yummy-mummy. (Describing the women who come to the pool all decked out in makeup and jewelery with their small children in tow.)
These are just a few of my favorites. You can never tell what the hell is going to come out of her mouth. Last night, at our manager's meeting, Rosie actually asked us to explain a gesture she'd seen the lifeguards doing. It was "The Shocker!" We told her and Rosie thought it was one of the funniest things that she'd ever heard. Rosie never fails to entertain, that's for sure!
Peace, love, and oreos,
I am one of those types of people who talks with my hands. And not just like little gestures - I'm talking "arms flailing, hold onto your drink" type of talking with my hands. A lot of it is redundant gesturing - when I talk about driving, I imitate having my hands on a steering wheel, just to make sure you know what I am talking about. Other times, it is just a general flapping or circling of the hands. Those end up being the ones that get me made fun of the most.
I'm okay with all of this. Here's where I start to get a little concerned, and I need to know whether this is something to worry about or if other people do the same thing.
I've realized that I gesture when I'm talking to myself. It isn't like I'm speaking out loud to myself. But, I notice that if I'm having a nice little dialogue within my head, the hands just don't stay still. This is especially prevalent if I'm in the car by myself... (I guess I do a lot of thinking while I'm driving.) I'm about to the point, though, where I may as well be speaking out loud, because anyone who would see me is going to think that I'm deaf and am signing to an imaginary friend...
Or that I've just got issues... I guess that's okay. They'd be right.
Peace, love, and oreos,
What in this life isn't an ephemeron? Perhaps in the search for something that is permanent, we miss out on the daily joy of life. As they say... "You can't take it with you."
I began reading the book "Memoirs of a Geisha" while I was recently out of town. It was one of those books that once I picked it up, I was unable to put it down. I would be out with friends or at work or wherever and wishing that I had the book with me so I could pick it up and read a few pages any time I had a spare second.
Part of what made it so amazing was the beautiful descriptions of life in pre-WWII Japan. I'm not always a big historical fiction fan, but this was so incredibly written and the details were so intricately woven into the prose that I was immediately drawn into the world of the characters. It isn't a romance novel, by any means, but it is truly a love story in many ways.
That being said, I have to say that I was disappointed in the movie. (Isn't that always the way it is? You love a book and the movie never really lives up to it.) I had mentioned to a friend that I was interested in watching the movie and he said that he'd heard unless you'd read the book, the movie was difficult to understand. I can totally see that this would be accurate. The movie tries to fit everything from the book into its screenplay, and although I appreciate the effort to be true to the manuscript, the movie is little more than a series of vignettes from the book. It would be difficult to follow if you hadn't read the book and didn't know how to fill in the blanks that the movie leaves out.
If you have the chance to pick up "Memoirs of a Geisha," I would definitely give it a high recommendation. Put it on your summer reading list... It's perfect for beachside reading.
I got up at 7 a.m. to go in to work at the pool. My throat was pretty sore (swollen glands, the whole deal) but I felt hopeful because the sky was cloud covered and gray when I left for work. The forecast said 80% chance of thunderstorms... which would mean that we would get to close the pool early.
I got to work and got out the vacuum and about twenty minutes into cleaning the pool, the clouds disappear and the sun begins fiercely shining. I shook my head and continued vacuuming.
As the day went on, my throat got worse, developing into congestion, followed by a headache, which was so bad, it was making me feel sick to my stomach. FYI - Running around in the heat and humidity is NO FUN when you feel like ass.
But, about every two hours or so, the clouds would roll in and the wind would pick up and tease me and the lifeguards into thinking that we would soon be clearing the pool for thunder. No such luck. I sat at the concession stand tables with my walkie-talkie and whistle on thunder patrol, only to watch the clouds disappate with no actual storm.
Fourteen hours later, I had no voice, but consoled myself that my twelve hour day today won't be so bad, because it is supposed to rain all day. I'm up now and the woke up to the freakin' sun shining in my eyes.
I guess I don't mind so much if it is sunny today, but if Mother Nature keeps teasing me like she did yesterday, I'm going to have to ask Dave to have words with her... Seriously.
Peace, love, and thunderstorms!
I ran down to the side of the pool and helped the guest and the lifeguard get out of the water. The lifeguard adjusted his rescue tube and put on his visor while getting back on stand. I took the about twelve-year-old (non)swimmer around the shoulders and led him towards my office.
"Who are you here with today?" I asked.
"My uncle," he told me. "He's over there."
We tracked down his uncle and went to my office to fill out an accident report. I discovered the boy's name was Shon (yes, that is spelled correctly) and the reason his uncle hadn't been in the water with him was because he had just finished eating and didn't want to get stomach cramps.
What I then was an audience to was probably one of the most humorous tirades I've ever heard.
Shon's uncle did a great job of making Shon feel guilty for going swimming in an area that was too deep for him to touch. He told Shon how lucky it was that the lifeguard was there to help him out of the water...
"You need to thank this nice lady here, Shon," the uncle said, gesturing towards me. "And you need to thank that lifeguard that got you out of the water. Because, you know what, Shon? If that lifeguard wasn't there, Shon, then Shon'd be goin' to heaven!"
With tears in his eyes, Shon thanked me and humbly made his way towards the location of the lifeguard who had helped him out of the pool. I felt so bad for the poor kid who'd jumped into the pool and not realized how deep the water was.
Moral of the Story: Lifeguards are simply instruments of the Lord
(Getting a good tan is just one of the perks.)
Peace, love, and oreos,
Impusively, I went to Best Buy this afternoon and bought a new desktop computer. Nothing fancy - just something I can use to check (personal) e-mail, blog, and pay bills.
After connecting all of the wires (which they color-code for all the idiots who are unable to assemble puzzles) and spending forty-five minutes on the phone with tech support to figure that I needed to disable to firewall protection to be able to get online, I AM HERE!
I actually found out that the new job I am starting towards the end of this summer provides all of its employees with a laptop for use at work or at home, but I figured that it would be best to have my own computer... The last thing I need is anybody from work getting upset with something I write from my blog or some crazy shit like that. I've heard that it happens... Seriously!
So, I'm going to have to get back into the whole blogging deal... Check back regularly for insights from Violet!
Peace, love, and oreos!