Be her carnal bomb

Today's spam title: Be her carnal bomb.
First line of the message: It is important not to mix up deep depression with short periods of bad mood or sadness!

Well. Who can disagree with that? Wait. What?


Oh I get it.The statement translates to: It is important not to confuse deep depression with less serious forms of depression or perhaps it means:
Don't be dramatic about your temporary bad moods

Hmmm.
I liked that advice. I could also take that to mean "Don't Sweat the Small Stuff."

It made me pause.
Have I been letting the small stuff take over my thoughts lately?

Ever since Spring got here, my sleeping has been worse. But that is not driving me crazy. It is just making me annoyed.

I have still been able to maintain my workout schedule. Although, I have seem more inclined to cheat on it than I did in March.
I resolved this by adding Reeses cups to my lunch box every day. A friend suggested that I do not deny myself a treat. Doing so, just makes me want to over indulge. She is correct.
There have been several times since February where I purchased an 8 pack of Reeses cups and I had 8 wrappers lying about my legs and feet before I got home.

I am serious...

I have a problem with Reese Cups. I have since I was a kid. I can't stay away from them. I try not to buy bags of them. I don't give them away for Halloween. I don't buy the Reeses Eggs during Easter. They are my weakness.

At least I haven't stopped with my exercise program. I pushed through with it during Winter and now Spring. I just need to keep it up. My goal is to be a size medium by my 40th birthday. I have the outfit selected. I just want to look cute in it. I should admit that thinking about my upcoming birthday has been stressful.

In a few weeks, my niece graduates from High School three states away. Somehow I have to manage getting down there and back then leave for a conference two weeks later in Chicago. My birthday is 30 days after that conference. Oh. And I can't forget my sororities signature event is next week.
As president, I have both excitement and worry regarding its potential for success. I hope that I am sane enough to entertain my table of ten guests.
So to recap. In two weeks, I have the sorority event. Five hundred guests. Thirty models. Three scholarships. One afternoon. My aunt and I bought a ticket for my grandmother to attend. Since it is the day before Mothers Day we are calling it her present.
In 5 weeks, my niece graduates from High School in Georgia.
Six hundred and fifty miles. Twenty relatives from out of town or more. Two nights stay in a hotel. One more niece to go (in 15 years)
In 7 weeks, I might be headed to the conference. Somehow, I need to find registration fees, hotel fees, meal costs and travel 

AHHHHG!

Not to forget that in 3 months, I turn 40.

I think I might crack after all. Hell. I think it explains my recent bout of acne that began this Winter (still not resolved)
When I went to the dermatologist he said, "It [the acne] makes you look younger."
Still not sure how I should feel about that comment.   The doctor needs to do whatever magic he can to clear up my skin by my 40th birthday.
Moving on....
So I go back to this email that I found in my Spam folder and read it for inspiration.

It is important not to mix up deep depression with short
periods of bad mood or sadness!


  Dear Frizzy

Even if your sex life is already rich and fulfilling... Imagine you had a little more energy... if your erections stayed harder... or you could go just a little longer...
Or maybe you worry, when you climb under the covers, that you’re starting something you can’t finish?
Well, now advancements in natural medicine are making it easier than ever to promote a strong libido, firm, natural erections and enhanced desire.

OH GAWD.
I had forgotten that I don't have a boyfriend and therefore no sex life. 
What need did I have for that stupid email? Now if feel depressed.... 
I know that I will get through the next few months. I just don't know how.
Sigh...... Well.
No point in brooding when there is chocolate and wine to be had.

---

Let's look at today's flowers

Oh Gawd. I think I broke my foot

I have never felt so out of sorts before.


I registered to attend webinar using GoToMeetings today.  I had to cancel attending a Martinis and Makeovers program sponsored by a Mary Kay friend at a local wine bar and lounge.  I already miss the martinis and pampering. I went to the gym to exercise. I came home ate, showered and got ready for the meeting. I am relaxed.

Logged into my email to retrieve the codes and panicked.

Fail

I had been operating under the assumption that the meeting began at 9 p.m.  The notice read 8 - 10 pm CDT.  I scrambled to download the gotomeeting software using mozilla. That failed miserably after four or so tries.  I switched to Internet Explorer. Successfully downloaded the software then picked up the house phone.Fail againThe access number was a long distance number.  Cursing myself for removing long distance on the house phone, I look for my cell phone.

Fail
It is no where to be found. My roommates keeps calling it while I look in my purse, my car, my raincoat (oh yeah, it was raining cats and dogs and I have a detached garage). I am wet and phone less. My roommate hears me cursing and she permits me to use her new Palm phone

HOW THE FUCK DO YOU USE A PALM PHONE

It takes me three tries to dial the phone number.  I fail 9 times to key in the access code.  After each series of three failed attempts the call disconnects forcing me to redial and fail again.  

I begin cursing like a sailor.She laughs like a hyena and offers to key in the number.  She struggles... And giggles.  

I am panicking because I am still under the false belief that 8 pm CDT is the same as EDT.  
Once I am on the call, I realize to my relief that I am not late for the meeting.  I have my roommmate mute the phone.  That is the only thing I did right all night. I settle down at my desk and open a few windows and chat with some hoars while I wait for the meeting to start.  
I drink Merlot the roommate brought home.

Pull out my crochet since I am still plugging away at that baby blanket for a girl.

The meeting starts and I don't have the materials I need to follow the presentation.

I quickly stand up ---


Fail

I don't rise straight up, instead my socked foot slips on the wood floor under the wood desk with a loud crash.

I curse.

My roommate runs out of her bedroom to check on me. I am still cursing.

I am hopping around on one foot while looking through my briefcase for the review materials.

I locate the materials, plop into my chair and fumble with her stupid phone to announce myself and then mute the call.

Fail

I ask my roommate to unmute the phone so I can announce myself then mute the phone so I can remain on the call.



For all my rushing the first hour of the webinar was a read-along.  I guess in this day and age you have to hit each style of learning.

First:  Send an electronic document to members to review one month in advance. Hands on

Second:  Create visual presentation with the images of the pages. Visual

Third:  Read the document while the pages appear on the webinar window. Only adding reference information.  Auditory


In order to ask a question I have to unmute the phone.  Knowing that I will fail at that simple task, I try to send an instant message.  I inform the meeting organizer that I an unfamiliar with the mute function on the phone.  She replies, "dial special code to unmute your phone."   
The code would have worked if I had not accidentally disconnected the call while trying to bring up the fucking keypad. 


Fail


It takes me two failed attempts at dialing the number.  My roommate's two failed attempts before she successfully gets me back into the meeting and they have ended the session.

Fail fail fuckity fail

I endure all of this with a throbbing foot.

Where is the wine.....

see more Lolcats and funny pictures
BTW

My roommate tweeted the entire adventure from her point of view.

Chortis and Wafel

Grandparents are a delightful blend of laughter, caring deeds, wonderful stories and Love.
-- Author Unknown

A few weeks back I visited my grandmother. I think my mother and I get our hoarding of our favorite things weakness from my grandmother.

It used to be like stepping into a time warp when I visited her. In the last few years, she has painted and updated all of her living room furniture. But that is just one room.
The furniture in the dining room is older than I am. There are things in there that I want. She has the brandy bottles that would be more useful at my house. In them is colored water. Yes, I was hurt to know that there wasn't any 30 year old brandy in those bottles. She uses them as decorations. I pointed out to her the layer of dust on them in an effort to convince her that she would not miss them. She said, "so what."

It is difficult to convince my grandmother to part with things. I will continue to try.

I agreed to clean one of her bedrooms for her. It wasn't one that she liked to enter. She kept it closed all the time. As we walked up the stairs she handed to me latex gloves.
I asked her, "what is in this room?"
She told me that she had cleaned 13 trash bags of junk from the room the week before.
At the top of the stairs she handed to me a heavy duty trash bag. I asked again, "what is in this room?"
She told me to look out for titles, certificates and other important papers but throw everything else away.

I entered the room.

I cannot begin to explain to you the mess that was that room. It had been my mothers as a kid. Over the years, it had become a depository of stuff and had been shut. The only person who entered the room was my grandfather. As he has dementia, I did not know what to expect when I went through the stuff in that room.

I found a polaroid camera.
Does that tell you anything?
Okay, how bout this.... I found several 8 track tapes and a player.
I found hair nets and rollers that probably belonged to my mother.
I found medicine tins of alka seltzer.

Grandpa liked to eat in private. We found scores of snack packages opened and unopened. Lots of pop cans.
I also found mouse turds. Lots of mouse turds
Lots of mouse turds
Lots and lots of mouse turds
and evidence of mice

I yelled for grandma to explain this. She told me, very calmly, "Oh yeah, I find a dead mouse everyday in there. That is why I have the mousetraps."

WHAT

I thought I was going to be sick. I refused to sweep the floor for fear of agitating some mystery bacteria. I kept pushing her away when she would come at me with the broom. I would pick up the food bits and papers but I would no longer clean behind or under anything.

She offers to turn on the fan for the smell that I unearthed. I panic. I certainly did not want the mouse turds to be swirled around the room. Heaven forbid more smells to find. I begged her to open the window. She refused because the windows had no screens.

I took a double take.

No screens?

I couldn't believe that her mind was on bugs in her house and not the possibility of a mouse running past me. I sighed.

Then I found her original mortgage papers.
In 1956 she and Grandpa bought their first and only 3-bedroom home on a double lot for $68 a month. She told me that was high back then. I giggled cuz the house looked almost the same.

I found my mother's birth certificate and then my uncle's. I learned that in 1951 my grandparents were Negro. By 1954 they had become Colored. We both laughed, we figured that my parents were probably Black when I was born but my sister was African American when she had children. So much for census taking.

I came across some paperwork for a Wafle. I asked her about Wafle. Who was she?

Grandma told me that she her father was dyslexic. Pause. I didn't know where she was going with that.
During her early 20s she had gone to the Health Department to request a copy of her birth certificate. On it she had been named Wafle. Not Mabel.

Get it?

I laughed so hard, I had to take a break from cleaning.

After two glasses of homemade blackberry wine, I resumed cleaning and found a birth certificate for Chortis. I snorted and asked about Chortis.

Chortis had been my grandfather's name at the Health Department. Not the name Curtis that he gave to my Uncle and later my cousin.

I started laughing again and I was pretty much done cleaning for the day. So we went out to dinner where she told me funny stories about my grandfather, who is now in a nursing home.

I am fortunate to have had my grandparents for as long as I have.

Crafty Updates
I finally completed the kimono.
I still have a lot of the yarn remaining and I might make another to get rid of it. The kimono was fun for a short time but mostly, it annoyed me.

I pulled some yarn out of my stash after I attempted to organize my yarn room. It really isn't supposed to be a yarn room. It began as an office. When I lost the basement, I started storing my yarn in it. Now I call it the yarn room. Perhaps, it should be names the Yarn Room of Doom.

I can't go in there to use the computer. I end up organizing my yarn or my tools. I can't enjoy myself in the yarn room anymore. No mindless Net surfing, records organizing or letter writing. Now it is all 'find the missing skein' or 'make room for six more balls."

Digging around in my red yarn box, I found this skein of handspun. Since I also unearthed an afghan hook, I thought that I would make a shawl out of it. I had to contact the spinner for more yarn. I didn't calculate my yardage needs before I began the shawl. It is an endless cycle. I am not following a pattern just playing with a afghan technique I found in a book. I am hoping to make a curved edge. Let's see how it goes.