Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Friday, October 17, 2008
Saturday, October 4, 2008
Her calculated ploy at the beginning of the debate was shameless - to ask if she could call the Senator 'Joe' was such an obvious plan of the GOP to keep the word Senator out of the debate so she would "seem" to be on a more equal footing. It might have worked had she not sounded like a parrot that was hoping to get a V.P. Cracker if she repeater what her owners told her to.
"Squawk - environment!"
"Squawk - maverick!"
"Squawk - Palin want a cracker!"
The other annoying aspect was the folksy - down home approach of Gov. Palin. I come from a once factory filled, working class town in Wisconsin. We know what real folks are. We also know when folks are trying to manipulate us and divert our attention to non-essential things. Her responses were so sweet the other night that my poor cousin had to up his insulin shots just to make it through the 90 minutes. Too bad that under the McCain plan he won't be able to afford extra insulin.
Okay - no more jabs - here's the facts folks. You can find Governor Palin and likable as you want. Heck, I'd have a cup of coffee with her. But I don't want an intern doing a manager's job. Our country is facing some of the toughest times I've seen in my 50 years and I was around for the Vietnam debacle. Please don't vote for nice - vote for capable. Vote for informed and vote for a team that isn't connected to what has been a failure for the last 8 years.
Friday, September 26, 2008
I tried hard to listen to McCain's plan for our country but I could barely find one. Instead I found a nice old guy who seemed peeved and wouldn't even look Senator Obama in the eye. He spoke of how we need to do "something" and I never got much of a sense of what that something is. Instead I heard a lot of "he's wrong" and "he doesn't know" directed at Barack Obama. It is the usual school kid trick of trying to sound tough without anything to back it up. I think he learned that from his mentor George Bush the king of huff and puff.
I was also not impressed by the Christmas card list of people Senator McCain knows being brought up throughout the debate. Satyric example: "Back in aught 5 Henry Kissinger and I shared a salami sandwich near the reflecting pool while we discussed how much we love our country and how bad those foreigners are." So tell me, how is this going to solve the our policy issues and end the endless war? Where was the substance? How can you love something and not protect it? We're hurting out here. Hello!
I appreciate Senator Obama looking the America people in the eye and giving us details. I want a leader who will lay it out there for discussion and not pretend to have answers. Sure it is easier to criticize a plan that is out in the open than no plan at all - which is the safe road McCain plays. If he doesn't tell them what he wants to do, they can say it is wrong.
We need to elect a leader in the White House who is willing to put the guns and the threats down for a while and attempt diplomatic discussions. I seem to remember that working pretty well for leaders in the past (current incumbent not included).
Senator McCain is a nice man - so go have a beer with him but for heaven sake, don't' vote for nice, vote for capable and prepared.
P.S. On that note, I cannot wait to hear Senator Biden and Governor Barbie in the next debate.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
I am going to continue this blog later when I have more time. Right now I have a though for the day...
Where the hell is George Bush in all this mess?
The only people I see answering questions about the economy are Barack Obama and McCain. Where is the man who has let this country go down the toilet for the last 8 years while he played cowboy in the wrong country fighting an oil-driven war. Boy, that strategy has done the American people well, hasn't it? As we see our tax dollars go to bailing out AIG and Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac, any retirement we may have had be in jeopardy and nothing being saved for our seniors and our children. Nice job keeping and eye on the American economy Georgie.
I find it laughable and scary that anyone would even think of voting in another republican candidate with the chaos they have left in their wake from 8 years of their leadership. People don't change over night. Political parties don't change over night. John McCain will not change over night. And don't get me started on Sarah Palin. We need new leadership. Please don't throw away your vote this year by hoping the republicans got it. A boss would not let an employee mess up for 8 years and keep him or her on the job. Teachers will not let a student fail for 8 years before stepping in. Let's be responsible voters and think about what really matters in the future.
Look at the headlines and see if what has been in office is working for you.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
#1. What is this trash I have been hearing that Biden and the media should take it easy on Sarah Palin because she is a woman and they will seem like they are picking on her. I bring your attention back to the way the Grand Old Party and the media chewed on Hillary Clinton - who, by the way, showed she could take it and give intelligent, informed answers when on the defense. (Can I hear a Bush Doctrine Ms. Palin?) If you are are going to play in the big sand box you have to get in there with the big kids.
#2. On a similar vein - I don't want anyone who might take a high office and help run this country to be to be treated with kid gloves. We need to challenge the candidates and know what they stand for. I am sure other countries that are no so friendly to the United States will not care much whether our President and Vice President are old and female. I don't want to find out if they can take the heat at a time when the heat might be a threat to our nation.
P.S. By the way, how are those gas prices looking in your neck of the woods? I know I can barely afford to get the helicopter off the ground to go moose hunting anymore.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Saturday, September 6, 2008
If we have the slightest chance of losing an election (an honestly - how could we if our eyes are open) to "one issue politics" again I am going postal. I am sad to see my Catholic paper plastering pictures of Sarah Palin all over it as if she is Mother Theresa. Holy cow! And I mean that. I am sure she is a fine woman in her own right but don't look at her as the sacred icon of anti-abortion. Abortion, although something I do not personally favor, is not the main issue plaguing our country.
So her 17 year old daughter is going to keep her baby. Great. Mom and dad make a good buck. She has health care and a stable home. Lots of support. Not a hard choice to make.
And while republican supporters say "Oh it makes Sarah Palin so human. It's just family matters and we should leave them alone." Human... uhuh. Why are republicans human when they err and democrats are called family values hating, flag burning, god-forsaken communists when they err. Can you imagine the grand old party field day if that has been Chelsea Clinton or Senator Obabma's daughter? I guess it only matters when it isn't a GOP family.
When did we become this country of people thinking you are only American IF you believe in my personal religion and all of the beliefs that go with it? I have a feeling that those folks who left England and decided to break away from their motherland did not do it because they wanted things to be exactly the same as the Queen felt they should be. (no offense Mum).
I also think that the Native Americans who inhabited this land long before the white settlers came had their own beliefs and own religions, which, according to our U.S. Constitution, they should be allowed to keep. Even our pledge says One Nation Under God but doesn't say Under the God of the right-wing Christians. Why then do people think everyone must believe only what they believe and not vote for what is best for all. ME the people not we the people. Geez!
This is only blog one on this topic. This country is in a mess. And YES - I LOVE MY COUNTRY. I AM PRIVILEGED TO BE HERE. MY FAMILY FOUGHT FOR IT AND IMMIGRATED HERE AND IT IS THE BEST PLACE TO BE. Got it? But it is not doing well right now. People are hungrier than ever. Having a home is an impossible dream for most of us. Health care is astronomical or unattainable. Seniors are struggling to survive. Children are going to be left with a humongous debt and a filthy environment. Now if none of those things bother you or effect you, by all means, vote to keep the status quo. You are fortunate to live in that bubble of yours. But if you are like the MAJORITY of us wondering how - with our full time jobs - we are going to pay for gas and school and food - then speak up! I want to hear from you. I believe we can do better.
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Now to the topic of the evening - church. Now WAIT. Don't you dare leave early from this blog or sit way in the back of the computer. No matter what your religion.
I realize if you are not Catholic this won't have exactly the same meaning - but be it synagogue, temple or shrine, all places of worship are challenging to the small child in us. Especially when we were small children. When it came to sitting for long periods of time and listening to mass said entirely in Latin (as it was for a while when I was small) you could say I was like a kid with A.D.D. on amphetamines. In other words, I wasn't exactly focused.
I tried, Lord knows I tried, but when I began attending church we couldn't eat anything before hand. The low blood sugar mixed with the youthful adrenalin did nothing for my devout demeanor. On at least one occasion I recall two nuns setting me down after carrying out my limp, unconscious body from the pew into the fresh air to revive me. I guess today that would be called "March of the Penguins." No harm intended Sister Helene.
When I wasn't attending mass at school, I was there on Sunday with my folks and my brother. I am sure whatever Father was saying was very interesting, but to me, not as interesting as the open purse of the lady in the pew in front of me. This time it was my mother dragging my very conscious body outside to give me a spanking with her hair brush. Not very Christian of her now that I think of it.
I am bringing up church because tomorrow is Sunday and I will need to go through the whole long process of forcing my boys out of bed and getting them to the church on time. Not an easy morning at my home. Over the years I have found my solace and renewal at mass and the ritual is important to my family. Although I don't do the hair brush thing, I have had my share of reigning in my youngest as his attention spans turns to something under the pew or how loud he can make the kneeler sound when it hits the ground.
The mass may no longer be in Latin, but small kids understand it just the same.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Sunday, August 3, 2008
Sunday, July 20, 2008
OH MY GOD!
Monday, July 14, 2008
It was only a few items for a picnic. The rest of the check out lanes were backed up like I94 out of Chicago on rush hour. I spotted the FAST lanes. An innocent looking row of self-check out lanes where you do all the scanning and bagging yourself. Brilliant. I'd be out in no time. I even had my trusty 12 year old son there to assist me.
Alex and I began scanning items and it was only then that I realized I was checking out on HAL, the computer from 2001: A Space Odyssey.My first item went through benignly. Then I made the mistake of trying to enter the PLU on the produce. You know, the little sticker that is supposed to be keyed to the price. Well, as soon as I entered it the whole machine lit up like a jackpot at a casino and a gnarly looking attendant came to fix it. He punched in a bunch of codes, gave us a nasty look and left without a word. We tried the peaches next. BIG mistake. Same response, same ugly attendant. I wondered why he didn't just stay there and check out my last few items - but that would mean it wasn't... the FAST lane.
We tried scanning and bagging faster to make the machine happy but it kept droning on at us in that non-human voice saying that there was "a foreign object in the bagging area". What foreign object? Was it peas? This was a grocery store for Pete's Sake how could peas be foreign. I began to look around for the zebra that passed in front of the scanner, or possibly a UFO - something I could accept as foreign.
Then the diabolical machine began a new type of torture. With each item I tried to scan it asked me to punch in "skip bagging" before I could move on. I'll bet you can guess what I really wanted to punch.
In a mere half an hour (!) we got through the last item and paid. As we turned with our one measley bag to walk away, a sadistic, mechanical voice behind us said,
"Thank you for using the Fast lane".
Monday, June 16, 2008
Monday, May 26, 2008
Thursday, May 1, 2008
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
I was the kid with the flashlight under the bed covers and the big, dark circles under my eyes in school the next day. By the time I was in Junior High I had read "Gone With the Wind" four times and I haven't really changed all that much. Just the other day I was the adult at work with the big, dark circles under my eyes after having stayed up most the night to finish "The Kite Runner."
I can thank my mother for my love of books. She belonged to those book clubs you still see in magazines. There was always tons of tomes around the house and dad had to build her a huge bookcase in our little dining room just to hold them. Mom had to keep a pretty close watch on me with her collection. In my grade school days, she was especially relieved to catch me just before reading "Valley of the Dolls" which I though was about a magical place with lots of Barbies.
During dull classes in school I would hide a good book on my lap. I remember the whole class passing around a tattered paperback of "The Godfather" and whispering to read the page with Sonny and the bridesmaid. I cried in Social Studies as I secretly read the painful accounts of the plight of Native tribes in "Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee." (Mr. C. never could understand why his lecture on the Senate was so moving).
In college I tried my hand at every style of writing I could - from Twain, to Poe to Dr. Seuss. Not long ago I was very pleased to find out that a college alum of mine who teaches at a prestigious college in Illinois uses a Chekhov spoof my old roommate and I wrote to teach his student's about parodies. At least my co-authored work is being taught somewhere.
I have been told by many that to be a writer, just keep writing. This blog is one of my methods of doing just that. I appreciate everyone who stops for a while and reads what I have to say. I better get going now; a friend just gave me a new book and I can't wait to get started.
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
I want to pause for a quick shout out to Cheryl, who I lost track of after college but recently contacted me again and read my blog only to find out she is an SB too. Welcome to the ranks.
In my original post called "I really should be in bed" I gave a quick-reference list on SB traits. I think it is time to look at one outstanding characteristics of SB-ism in depth.
I am talking about SB's as Fierce Friends. I can only illustrate the fierce friend phenomenon by giving you an example of a SB near and dear to me. I know she appreciates her privacy so I'll just call her SB #1.
I met SB #1 in 1988 and her loyalty and support have kept me going in the worst of times. The following is only one of the million things she has done during her protective watch over the boys and I.
SB #1 witnessed the entire rise and fall of my marriage and saw what I could not see long before I did. Love and blind faith in the wrong person can really make you lose your way, but love and true faith of a friend can help you find it again.
Our home, which I had worked like a slave to buy including cleaning up my then spouses horrible credit, was going into foreclosure after we separated. My husband had been out of work for over a year before we split and this was a pattern with him.
It was my dream to own a home and give our kids a yard to grow up in, play in and a neighborhood school we could walk to. We had lived for 12 years in a 1 bedroom apartment and 6 of those with children. I longed for space and freedom. The home we found wasn't big or fancy but it was ours. I could plant a garden, we could paint big flowers on the fence and watch robins nest outside the upstairs window... and after only 3 years it was all going away. My soon-to-be Ex just washed his hands of it (which was not wise as his was the name on the mortgage). I found 3 jobs and an apartment nearby so the kids could stay at their school but I couldn't find a way to save our home.
SB #1 stayed with me through the whole painful loss. She would show up every week with boxes, dinner and sometimes a beer or two and help me clean out the the entire home, garage and basement while the kids were with friends. It was heart wrenching and I had to give up, donate, sell and give away about 80% of our belongings. SB #1 hauled, cleaned and stayed by my side through it all.
To this day I have to drive by the house every day on my way to work and I still feel the loss in the pit of my stomach. My only comfort is that another family with children seems to be living there. I hope they love it as much as I did.
I don't wish our experience on anyone, but if something like it should happen to you, I do wish you a fierce SB friend to help you in that dark time. She let me cry and complain while saving me some dignity when it felt like there was nothing but shame. She is so much more than a friend and I am honored to have her in my life.
Monday, March 24, 2008
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Sunday, March 2, 2008
"Last Thursday I received a call from the fraud department at Visa. It seems someone created a duplicate of my debit/ATM/credit card and used it at truck stops in Alberta, Canada and again several days later at an amusement park in Baltimore, Maryland. I suspect I'll never know how they got the number, what they bought with my money or why they needed those things. Write a story with the above elements and shed some light on the mystery for me."
February 2, 2008: It was too easy. I could just look at the registration cards - pick one at random and get the name and number. A card would be no problem to duplicate. If the name was a woman's, she could assume the identity; a man's , I'd do the dirty work. It had to be done if we were ever going to be together. Let's see, ...damn, the name is Gwen. That means she's going to have to do it. It's okay, she's a strong woman and she's been in worse relationships than this.
Our spouses need never know. It's well known we both travel a lot. No one would suspect. I just couldn't wait to see her. But where? No where close to home. Too risky. I know! CANADA! No one will recognize us in Canada. No one recognizes anyone in Canada.
February 9, 2008: It took a week but we finally consummated our love. Sure, it was in a truck stop bathroom in Alberta but whose complaining when you have all that power in one room. Except for the few minutes she got that luscious blond hair caught in the hand dryer, it was pure magic. She said she used the card to get the condoms. No one would track us here. It made it all a little kinky. Knowing her history, I'll bet she' used to that. Well, we decided to meet in 9 days when our crazy schedules miraculously both had a break.
February 18, 2008: This truck stop bathroom gave new meaning to the tourist books claim that Alberta is Canada's leading producer of natural gas. Decided to have a quickie and get a bite to eat afterward. "Gwen" and I laughed nervously as we shared a tuna on white bread (her choice, not mine). How long could we keep this up? Thank goodness the truckers were all half asleep from their hauls. We felt just like them. Tired of the travel and the cheap sex but unable to give it up.
February 22, 2008: No time to get all the way back to Canada. I got an email from "Gwen" saying she bought something for me and could I meet her as I swung through Baltimore today. Always the thrill seeker she picked an amusement park as our rendez-vous site. Her instructions were, "the Midway - just before midnight. I'll be wearing a blue dress with nothing underneath."
When I found her she whispered in my ear her pet name for me "dark stallion." That always turns me on. "I bought something for you," she teased. I thought it would be dark glasses to disguise myself but when I looked in the bag she handed me it contained thong with little pineapples designs all over it. "I thought you might be homesick," she teased." She knows me so well.
I wanted to get her something to remember our special night. I knew things were just going to get more hectic in the months to come and I didn't want her to think I was so important and she didn't matter anymore. I saw the water race with the little squirt guns that made your car rise faster than the rest. That was the game for us. I'd make sure she won something tonight. We both decided to compete against each other and it was no contest. None of the others in the race even came close to us. She looked good at the start and I was a little shaky - but in the end my car pulled ahead of the others 11 races in a row.
I won many prizes for my lady that night but her favorites were the two small, matching pink elephants. She held one tenderly as we began kissing next to the mini doughnut booth. Then her cell phone rang. She had to go.
February 24, 2008: Damn, damn, damn! Life can be so cruel. The real Gwen is onto us. The account for the card has been frozen. It was over. I reached into my travel bag underneath the airplane seat and pulled out one of the stuffed elephants I won in the Midway. With a tear in my eye I turned it over and looked at the rear end where we had both written our initials.
H. C. and B. O. 4-Ever
Here's looking at you kid. We'll always have Baltimore.
POST SCRIPT: The BlogNinjas are raring to go with more Mystery Topic Challenge goodness. You don’t have to be a Blog Ninja to take part but if you want to read and then vote for your favorite, come by here.
Monday, February 25, 2008
I'm not a big joiner in chain-type emails. I somehow doubt the Almighty is up there in front of the PC pounding out sweet little emails that threaten eternal damnation if you don't send it on in the next 5 minutes to closest 8 friends you could annoy and not totally alienate with this heaven-sent missive. God as blackmailer - via Internet no less.
Let's make up our own "friend's quiz" shall we!
Ques. #1: How many times in the past year have you wished Kelly Rippa would fall into a deep pit never to be seen again?
Ques. #2: Name the last 5 places your cat/dog barfed in your home.
Ques. #3: If you could sleep with anyone in the world, why aren't you?
Ques. #4: What did you want to be when you grew up?
Ques. #5: When the hell are you going to grow up?
Ques. #6: Have you ever been on America's Most Wanted?
Ques. #7: What is your favorite Income Tax form?
Ques. #8: How many moles do you have? What color are they?
Ques. #9: Chocolate or maggots?
Ques. #10: What friend do you think will send this back without telling you how pissed off they are that you wasted their time with it?
Friday, February 22, 2008
Sure, it sounds good on the bumper stickers but it's a load-o-crap. The saying should be, "If you want to survive you'd better handle what you're given".
Take this last Wednesday for example. I am sitting quietly at my desk. Doing my job. Minding my own business when the cell rings and it's the school nurse.
"You're son has had a seizure and the paramedics are here with him. He's not conscious and they are going to bring him to the hospital."
Al Unser , Jr. wouldn't have kept up with me on the way to that hospital. And even if he could have, I dare him to try it with a rosary in one hand and his stomach up in his throat.
As I waited for the paramedics to get there (I beat them there even though they were in the same city and I was in the suburbs). I realized I need to stop waiting for things to calm down. They are not going to. That's life. So instead of sleepless in Seattle I am sleeping with one eye open and my car keys under my pillow.
By the way, my son is okay and we WILL handle whatever comes next. I wish the same for all of you.
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Due to spending every moment at my son's hospital bedside in December I was away from my email for a very long time. When I was able to return to a computer again I found a lot of welcome emails along with a junk folder full of hundreds of spam messages. When I examined my haul I discovered about seven distinct themes:
- penis enlargement/duration
- designer-like purses
- perscirption pills
- designer-like watches
- computer software
- strangers saying hi to me
- notifications of a vast fortune awaiting me
With all the sex and drugs it's no wonder they reproduce so quickly. At first glance the list looks like the script notes for the first season of Sex in the City. However, what the spammers are offering is redundant at best and no where near as entertaining.
Here's what really puzzles me. If I keep blocking them, deleting them or just plain ignoring them; what is the point of continuing to send them to me ad-nauseum? Is being annoying really going to change my mind about crappy products? It reminds me of a great Spongebob Squarepants episode where Spongebob tries to get Squidward to eat his first crabby patty by bugging the shit out of him. Squidward thinks crabby patties are absolute garbage and wants nothing to do with them. When Spongebob follows him into the bathroom to entice him to try one Squidward replies,
"If I didn't want one out there - what makes you think I would find them more appealing in HERE?!"
That's exactly how I feel about spam messages on my computer.
Sunday, February 17, 2008
My ex-husband had flown in and was watching over Al that morning while I caught my first bits of sleep. When I rejoined him at Alex's bedside there was the neurosurgeon standing with a woman I did not recognize. She introduced herself as the social worker - the SW, if you will.
I will pause here to say that I have had many helpful and extremely caring moments with SW's - they helped me find work, clothing and food for the kids during my divorce. I have great respect for SW's - well, for all but this one.
The neurosurgeon looked at us with one of those "Oh My God" serious faces that only doctors can give you and said, " I strongly recommend you take your son to Dr. XX and XX Hospital immediately. He went on to say that he was the best doctor to handle my son's upcoming surgeries. I said, "Well let's get him moved right away then..." Before I could finish my sentence the little SW says in a scolding voice, "Oh, no, no, no, no, no!" I replied, "What did you say?" She said, "Oh no, no, no, no. You better check your insurance first to see if it will pay for the ambulance to take him."
I was speechles for one moment - then the SB in me looked at my motionless 11-year old son and turned back and said, "Oh no, no, no, no no. We are moving him now. Look, I will be paying hospital bills for the rest of my life. Do you think one ambulance ride to bring him to the doctor that can save his life makes a bit of difference in all this. This is about my son, not about insurance."
Time was crucial. I rode with Alex in the first ambulance that had taken him from the ER and the first hospital to this hospital and I saw how complicated the move was for those EMTs. Did this woman want me to throw him in a taxi and hope for the best! Maybe we could hitchhike and save a few bucks. Who would say this to a mother?
Well, this story has a happy... no miraculous ending, because a couple weeks later my sons final surgery was a triumph and he is recovering beautifully today. Oh yes, and if that particular SW should ever see this - the bill for the ambulance that took him from their hospital to the third one is the only bill, in all of this, that was paid in full. My insurance paid the bulk and the ambulance company discounted the remainder.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Being stuck in has me a little stir crazy. Since Alex is still in recovery we can't even do something as simple as bowling (the preferred sport of Wisconsinites present and past). I certainly haven't read a good book in ages so anyone reading this needs to send me some good authors and titles to look up. Quick!
Amazingly enough it was my son Nick's Cub Scout meeting that brought the most excitement this week. The magician that was performing a fire eating act set the fire alarm off at their school. Good times. If things don't pick up around here I'm thinking of setting one off in my aprtment building. A least we'd get some fresh air. I'm supposed to be building a pinewood derby car with Nick but I'm still trying to get over the raingutter regatta debacle of last fall. Anyway, we just made it through signing a hundred valentines and I need to give the kid a rest.
Oh yea, Valentine's Day.
I've only been a single for a couple years now so I can't say I am dreading the day. I have two small gentlemen to give a hug to. I will say that I have flashed back on certain valentine's of my youth when I found myself single and wishing I owned my own radio station. Remember how all you hear are these sappy love songs and drippy ballads. They really don't help when you are running solo. So, some friends and I started a playlist for Anti-Valentine's Day - you know, Linda Rostadt's "You're No Good", Carly Simon's "You're So Vain", Elton John's "I'm Still Standing" and who could leave out the Dixie Chicks' " Goodbye Earl". I think the call letters for the station could be SPEW (Single People Everywhere Whine) .
Now, let's hear your choices for the "Anti-Valentine's Day Top 20". Send me a comment with your picks and I'll post them in an upcoming blog. Until then, to all those with a loved one to share the day - be happy; and to those without one, I'm thinking of you.
Monday, February 4, 2008
Now, let's see what has happened since I've been away...
The Giants won the Superbowl yea! (but I would much rather have seen the Packers in it).
It's been a million below zero here in Minnesota for much of the season which confirms one of my earlier blogs on how winter sucks.
I caugh up on my email including my junk mail which obviously is trying very hard to tell me I need three things in life to be happy: a new watch, a bigger penis and better computer software. Who knew?
I'm actually feeling pretty good about the next election because nobody running in my party of choice is an ass (can't say the same for the other guys).
Britney and Lindsay went into rehab...wait that's not new news.
I'm so bored I started watching American Gladiators.
My laundry still isn't done.
An old boyfriend and an old friend found me on the internet which was a nice surprise.
And best of all, my son, Alex is still recovering beautifully from surgery. Life is good.