I think I might need a tea set, I shall search the thrift stores high and low, low and high, here and there!

So, I'm into orange food this week.
Carrots, Cheeze-Nips, oranges . . . which is strange because I normally have a policy of never eating foods that are all the same color together. (I know, also strange.)
For example, a meal of mac and cheese, yellow squash and corn is totally out of the question; spinich souflee, green beans and salad, not on my plate, no.

http://www.rainbowanimations.com/supername.php

check it out,
love, the elderly school girl

Some tidbits from today:
I saw a gold-glitter car, it said, "classic" on the side, and the owner was ever-so-proud of his automobile, truly, it was weirder than it sounds.

I saw a giant tennis shoe. I mean GIANT! I mean I think Big Tex lost his running shoe! It was on the back of a truck trailer. I'd guess about a size . . . oh, maybe 102! I was really wishing at that point that I had a camera.

I like my new blog template. I ingeniously downloaded it from another web site.
I looked at two other blog sites, but they were tres complicated. Guess I'll stick it out here.

I saw on the news today that there have been 19 days of above 95 degree temps in September this year here in the DFW area. Do we need to discuss how much that sucks? It's a record breaker. Yeah. Indian summer . . . Indian freaking broiler!

There are some people at a place that I go to often that I don't like, nor do I trust them. One is a definite stabber and tattler. Another is a punk, I bet I could get the latter in trouble, just for fun, if I wanted to. :0) Poor baby-- I shouldn't be mean to the fish. I'll consider my options, there are so few days left.

I've been thinking I should celebrate my 1/2 birthday. I hereby declare my half birthday to be on St. Patrick's Day! Get your own 1/2 birthday!

adieu

i got a mule

her name is sal



fifteen miles


on the erie canal

I saw a little Dachshund/Chihuahua mix, she was cute! Buzz thought so too, he tried to make babies with her, but she was not ready to go so far so fast. (Typical male, ready to make it- like, a minute after seeing her.)

Buzz can't help it, he's a very manly dog. Other tiny dogs immediately submit in his presence. We went to Octoberfest and he ran in the wiener races, he got 3rd place (out of four, but who cares about that?) That was just because he was distracted. Off the track, he dominated those wienies

I watched "My Name is Earl" and "Bones" this past week. Although I really liked Earl, I doubt I will be dutifully be watching either show. "Bones" was ever-so-much like CSI, which I like, but seriously, enough is enough.

They made a smart-show dumb mistake which irritated me. It was a story about a guy who crashed his car into a building, and the building blew up because there were explosives attached to the car. It was considered an act of terrorism. The body in the car is too burned up to ID, so they call in the forensic/anthropoligical expert. She determines through his bone structure and other stuff that the driver was an Afghan who was a peace ambassador between Muslim groups and the US government.

So . . . they go talk to his wife who gets angry that they automatically assume he's a terrorist just because he's "Arab." I know they both start with A, but Afghans and Arabs are not the same peoples; an Afghan would readily point that out, as would an Arab. Oh well, I guess that little slip won't effect most of the American population, so whatever. I thought the acting was stiff, but I suppose I'd watch it again if I was bored.

Earl, however, I'd love to watch Earl. He was funny. No time, but I'm not worried, it will come out on DVD-- then I will have time! Some quotes if you please: said the day hooker: "I tried Earl! I did! I told him he was handsome, but he just ran away. I even pulled out my good boob!" and then said Earl's brother: "I think you're trying to sell a cat to a man of fancy dogs."

A very gentle Southern lady was driving across the Savannah River Bridgein Georgia one day. As she neared the top of the bridge, she noticed a young man fixing (ready) to jump.She stopped her car, rolled down the window and said, "Please don'tjump, think of your dear mother and father."He replied, "Mom and Dad are both dead; I'm going to jump."She said, "Well, think of your wife and children."He replied, "I'm not married and I don't have any kids."She said, "Well, think of Robert E. Lee."He replied, ''Who's Robert E. Lee?''She replied, ''Well bless your heart, just go ahead and jump, you dumbass Yankee."

I may be a Yankee, but I do know who Robert E. Lee was, so I guess that makes me a smart-ass Yankee. :0)

This right here, this is why I probably shouldn't have kids . . .

i have things to say, oh just you wait, I have things!

Brown men love me.
I don't know what it is, but I have been approached by brown men on the street, in stores, at gas stations, on tours just where ever.
Today: I am not even trying to be cute-- really, I'm wearing an ankle length dark blue skirt, a pink tank top and a brown scarf around my waist. I didn't brush my hair before I pulled it back into a ponytail, I didn't shave my legs or my pits, lipstick is my only make-up, it's hot, I'm stinky and I didn't even bother to put on a bra. (trust me, this omission is certainly not why I was approached today, it's not such a great sight as that)
He told me I was gorgeous and that he would like to take me somewhere and show me off.
ummm . . . no . . . thanks.
But it got me thinking about some of the other strange encounters. It usually seems to occur when I'm feeling least cute. Furry legs, bad hair, no make-up, mismatched clothes-- those are the days. Not that there are so many days when at least one of the above stated is not the case, but generally they do not all occur on the same day.
One guy followed me around the shoe store staring at me feet to eventually reveal to me that I have beautiful feet.
In more exotic lands I've been told I "look like I came from the moon" or that my "face looks like the moon." (pocked, pitted with a greenish tint?!) One guy told me I was worth 700 camels.
You know how much that is? Me neither.
One guy asked me to marry him, not just in the 700 camels kind of way, but three times to be sure that I knew he was serious. One guy told me I was "shiny." I didn't even ask what that meant. One of my favorite compliments came from a guy who wasn't even trying to pick me up, and it's a good thing because the charade would never have lasted. He told me that my English was "very good."
I said, "Thanks."
It's true, my English is very good.

http://www.milkandcookies.com/links/7452

I just got comment spam! Well, now you have to pass a test before you can comment, to make sure you are human and not an evil robot. Take that and rewind it back!

So, my birthday is in two weeks. That means you should start picking out a card and thinking of nice things to say about me about this time . . . and a present . . . I like presents send one of those too.

ao
I have this box of cassette tapes under my bed. Every time I clean under my bed, I look at the box and think, “I never listen to those tapes, I should throw them away.” (do you have to use quotation marks when you are thinking? I'm going with "yes.")

Then I think, “but I really liked those ones, maybe I’ll listen to them in the car." I even went so far as to take some of them to the car once and I listened to them a few times, then I spilled grape juice on them, but I still can’t convince myself to throw them away. I’m going to do it though—I’m going to! No more sticky grape juice Wham! tape. No more icky-purple Dwight Yoakum, I say “no!” to the Hits of 1997!

But there is one, one spared the grape juice, one that I must keep for . . . well, I must keep it forever and forever.

It’s labeled “Music to Drive to Church By” and the cover has a Confederate flag and a heart that says “ONJ+DM” on it. The song selections include ‘Walk on the Wild Side,’ ‘Billion Dollar Baby,’ some Jonathan Richman, lots of Olivia Newton John and a short story or two. My favorite of course is the one about walking across the dam in the storm.

I’m not feeling that mellow these days.

I don’t like church.
I think I used to like it, but it seems these past few years there’s something – something that isn’t right. I’ve been thinking it’s just me. Something about me isn’t right so church feels fake. I still want to worship God, I still love Jesus, but I don’t want to go to church. I don’t want to “fellowship” because I feel like there is nobody there like me.

Maybe there are somebodys like me, but I’m not sure how I am, so would I even recognize them if I saw them?

I went to church tonight. I gave up trying to be good and took my knitting with me. If I don’t have something to occupy me while I’m listening, I start picking apart the sermon on theological and grammar points. Maybe I should declare myself ‘postmodern’ and tell people I knit to stop myself from deconstructing. :o)

While I was there I started wondering how a person can go about showing that she loves God. I thought of some women I know who love God and they show it lots of ways- but in the process they have taken themselves out of the world. We are in the world not of it, but they are barely here they might as well be in a secluded convent, which for the most part seems to me to be the opposite of the Great Commission. “Go out into all the world and hole up so people can admire your virtue.” Not exactly.

Know what you know and do what you believe. Know why you believe and why you do so that when somebody asks you why you don’t cover your hair like it says you should in the Bible you damn well have a good answer.