Mom On The Run

I love hallowe’en – mostly ’cause I get to pretend I’m someone else, and carve a pumpkin. My brother and I loved to do that when we were little, though we would also fight over who pulled the most gooey stuff from the inside of the pumpkin (why my parents never bought 2 pumpkins to end the fighting, I’ll never know). Each year we took turns being the pumpkin “designer”. My brother was the creative one. Here’s a pic of us with our pumpkin (I’m 12 in the picture and he’s 10).

!@(pumpkin.jpg popimg: “Pumpkin Circa 1987″)!@(_01.jpg:R popimg: “Witch Pumpkin 2004″)As you can tell, that year I got to be the designer . Now that I’m living on my own, I get to carve my own pumpkins and I don’t have to share the joy with anyone else. It’s MINE! MINE! MINE! BUT my design skills have definitely not improved, and I’ve taken to using pumpkin templates (I know how sad). But you gotta admit, it sure looks better than that pumpkin I did when I was 12!

I can’t wait to shell out to all the kiddies – some of them have the most adorable costumes EVER!

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Is it because I look equally crazy? Or do I actually look friendly? Whatever it is, I’m sure glad that walkmans, CD players and MP3 players were invented. I betcha it was someone dependent on public transportation that invented them.

Tonight I had to take the train home from work because my husband wasn’t able to pick me up from work (we usually travel together – awwww… how cute). I swear I wasn’t in the station for more than 5 min, when this old guy starts lecturing me about not wearing a scarf! He ranted and raved about how I’m going to develop vocal problems just like him if I didn’t start wearing scarves. to be honest with you, I have nothing against scarves – balck ones, red ones, plaid ones, multi-coloured ones – I’ve worn them all! But tonight? It was a beautiful 12*C out and I wasn’t even outdoors! I asked him that if not wearing a scarf was bad, how bad is it for my throat and vocal cords to RUN outside in the winter, like I do? Wouldn’t you expect more runners to have vocal problems? He responded that a lot of young girls “my age” have raspy voices. Hmmm.. that didn’t exactly answer my question. I said, “Do those same girls smoke? I bet there’s a higher correlation between smoking and raspy voices”. I then remembered that amongst all my running gear was the greatest thing ever invented…. my MP3 player! I dug it out of my bag, popped the ear phones in & turned it up loud enough to drown out the miserable old man mid-lecture. You know what he did after that? He went outside & lit up a smoke…. Hmm… coincidence?

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Today is Free-For-All Friday! Free for All means you can post whatever you want on my blog. (OK – it means I was too lazy to post today and now you have to do all of the work for me ). Say what you want to say, share a link, complain about household appliances, etc…all you have to do is login and post!

Here’s how to do it:
Read the rest of this entry »

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First things first: Thanks for dropping by and posting.

I always have a hard time thinking of great things to post about for FFAF. So … I’m going with appliances.

Can a coffee maker be called an appliance? I’ll call it one anway. I’m a coffee addict with the coffee maker blues. My appliance at home only releases one drop every 20 seconds. When I make coffee at the boyfriend’s house, it either ends up looking like weak tea or mud. I have I high-end coffee maker at work and had great luck with it … until lately. On Monday the pot cracked and on Tuesday the water leaked everywhere. Today, I thought I’d venture out to get some gas-station coffee. That machine decided to give me hot, foamy water instead.

Everyone wonders why I’ve been cranky today. Caffeine withdrawals are a bad thing.

~ Bonnie

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Well, I am sick today.
So that means everyone gets the same post.

And here we have a really long Deep Thought with Jack Handy.

I’ll never forget the time I got caught stealing watermelons from old Mr. Barnslow’s watermelon patch. I was with my friend Bobby. We were giggling so hard I thought I’d wet my pants! At first we tried to steal two watermelons each, but they were too heavy and we dropped them, and that made us laugh even harder. Finally, we each picked out a good one, and we were just about to sneak back through the fence when we heard a low, deep voice behind us. ‘Just where do you think you’re going with those watermelons?’ I gulped and turned around. It was old Mr. Barnslow, pointing his shotgun at us. Bobby dropped his watermelon, then pulled out the .38 revolver he kept in his waist, turned, and fired. But the turning must have thrown off his aim, because the shot only hit Mr. Barnslow in the thigh. Mr. Barnslow immediately fired both barrels at Bobby. One blast of buckshot missed entirely, but the other tore into Bobby’s shoulder. He tried to fire back, but his shoulder was so torn up he couldn’t raise his arm. Just as he was trying to switch to his left hand, Mr. Barnslow ran up and cracked him across the face with the butt of his shotgun. Bobby fell to the ground in a heap. Mr. Barnslow raised the butt of his gun to finish him off, but just then Bobby pulled out his hunting knife and plunged it into the farmer’s big white belly. After that, I don’t think I stole watermelons for at least a year.

Brought to you by Valerie from spoken-for.org. Enjoy!

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Made it through another week, and back to another FFAF!

The leaves are changing at a rapid rate, which makes everything look really pretty, even though the temperatures are dropping and you can just taste the impending snow coming this winter. I certainly don’t like winter enough to have to shovel my car out of its parking spot on the street. I could do without having a white Christmas, New Year or birthday if it meant I could get up and drive off without the fuss.

But fall, I don’t mind so much. I did a three-mile walk for Alzheimer’s last weekend, and the leaves were starting to blanket the grass in the park. I had the urge to rake them all into a big pile and jump in.

Hope everyone enjoys fall if they’re lucky enough to live in a place that sees the season!

-Daria, the Diner Bitch

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