Cheek exercises

There's an old saying about those who forget history. I don't remember it, but it's good.
Stephen Colbert

In Missouri, a car dealer is offering new car buyers their choice of $250 in free gas or a free semi-automatic handgun. Eighty percent of people choose the handgun.
Well, sure. You've got the gun; you can get the free gas.
Jay Leno

Bleh

Like a big gulp of sour milk, words can really make you gag.

Phrases such as "I don't really like it but that's how they wear it"
or "I wish I had her (insert body part here)" are as putred, smelly and lumpy to me as the sourest of milks.

Upon first taste of these words I want to shake the source and say "don't be a slave to fashion! if it doesn't look good on you don't wear it!"
and
Chances are the person who's body parts you're green with envy over look in the mirror and wish they were different as well, so be happy with what you've got-thigh and butt transplants are a long way off.

God knew what He was doing when He made you so don't insult His taste.

*steps off soap box

Famous thoughts

I signed autographs next to John Reuben last night for what will be the first of many times in my life :) (not necessarily next to John but you know what i mean)
I'm fairly certain that I was more giddy and excited about it then the kids who were receiving my signature.

I did learn that having practiced my signature on paper for years it's nothing compared to signing t-shirts and arms at weird angles....hmmm something new to practice.

Can't wait to see the pictures

"Honk if you love peace and quiet" -bumper sticker

You would think by now we would have come up with some way to communicate more complexly then a "honk"

I hate the honk.
No one knows what you're talking about and those who do are only more annoyed by the fact that you took it to that level.

It's attention grabbing that's for sure. I guess that's the only purpose it serves.

I myself get too busy yelling that I forget about that nasty little button. But not everyone is the same. Some people overuse their honk and dish it out in both friendly and hostile manners-part of the reason the whole form of communication is so misunderstanding.

So let's start preserving our honks

And next time you get the urge to blow your horn, shut the beep up.

The best things happen while you're dancing

White Christmas is one of my all time favorite Christmas movies.
When I was a little girl I would watch it all year round and dress up in my dress up clothes (cast off's from Mom's and Sarah's closets) and dance around the living room singing each melody as loud as Rosemary Clooney and Vera-Ellen.

I watch that movie every year still and will often have random tunes from it stuck in my head, such as the other night when Dayton and I were sitting in our favorite chinese restaurant waiting for our take out to be ready...

Me (in a sing-song voice): "What can you do with a general, when he stops being a general. Oh what can you do with a general who's retired?"

Dayton: What?

Me (still in sing-song voice): "Who's got a job for a general when he stops being a general....ummm...Oh what can you do with a general who's...expired!"

Dayton: You're crazy.

If by crazy you mean still in love with the greatest musical ever made...then yes, yes I am.
;)

Vindication!

This was on my google homepage today... :)

This weekend the price of a first class stamp rose to forty-two cents. Forty-two cents to mail a letter.

If only there was some other way you could get a written message to someone. Ah! They've got us over a barrel!

- Jay Leno

Gratis!

Free!
Who doesn't like that word (unless of course it's used in conjunction with "fat-free" and then you can pretty much bet on it being "flavor-free") but that's another blog for another day...

Today however, is a free food day because two big chains-Dunkin Doughnuts and McDonalds are both giving away free food!

The Golden Arches is giving away a Free chicken sandwich! (with the purchase of a medium or large drink)
Their ploy is a smart one in that they're introducing a new product and what better way to get people eating it then to give it to them for free! (with the purchase of a medium or large drink).

My personal review of this sandwich in comparrison to the mother of all chicken sandwiches (chick-fil-a of course) is that it's noticably smaller (which isn't a bad deal if it's going to be cheaper) and it's noticably greasier. All in all it's better then what i thought Mickey-D's could crank out.

Dunkin Doughnuts free-b is free iced coffee (no strings attached). And if you like coffee, Dunkin Doughnuts is the place to be. We only have one here in our town and it's run by American-Indian/Native Americans (whatever it takes to be politically correct) and their charm when ordering through the drive through is remeniscient of the Soup Nazi. But their breakfast sandwiches taste as if Jesus Himself turned on the grill. Plus when making your coffee they mix in the cream and sugar for you and reach perfection every time.
I have yet to try the free iced coffee...I have one sitting in my freezer since the big cup of coffee they mixed up for me held me over all morning.
So there you go make it out to either one today and grab yourself some free-ness (with the purchase of a medium or large drink)

Go soon cause McDonalds ends at 7pm and DD's ends at 10pm
Hurry GO!
It's FREE!!
(with the purchase of a medium or large drink.)

RETURN TO SENDER:

I intend to email a lot more.
Not because I have more things to say or more people to say things to, but because I am acutely aware of the blessed "freeness" that emails afford.

Snail mail now costs an extra penny to send. A penny.

Last week I went to the post office to buy enough postage to mail my body and got in a bit of a confusing conversation with the woman behind the counter who of course had an accent...

me: i need to mail 150 of these.
her: mmm...this letter is going to cost a 1.50 to send
me: WHAT
her: wait this may fit through the slot let me try it...ok it fits, never mind it will take a .42 cent stamp plus two .17 cent stamps but if you mail them out after monday you'll have to come in and add money to them all I don't know how much that will be but you'll have to do it or we won't send it or you can buy a forever stamp but you'll still have to come in to add money to it-a penny, you'll have to add a penny to it. but if you mail them out before monday you'll have to add .17 cent stamp minus five add a penny and unless you add a forever stamp you'll be paying .42 cents unless you mail them monday.
me:...
me:what?
her: repeat paragraph above
me:...ok so what do i need to buy to send these out today?
her: one .42 cent stamp and a .17 cent stamp
me: ok. so i'll get those..do have anything that doesn't have a ram's head on the front?
her: no mam that costs extra.

So for the love of god don't send a letter out with an old stamp unless you've attached an extra Lincoln head to it-in fact do it literally just to piss the postage people off :)

It

Charley had a country song stuck in his head and it was making him mad. Country songs were all alike and he particularly hated the one whose chorus was playing over and over in his mind, something to do with a guitar and tears. Squatting there in the dark he tried to recall some of his favorite Duke Ellington melodies, anything that would overpower the twang of the guitar resonating in his ears. He once heard that if you sing "It's a Small World" over and over it would act as sorbet to your pallet. Charley hummed the first several notes of the tune then stopped, realizing he didn't know the rest. Back to the guitar and tears.

His hum made him realize how long it had been since he'd heard anything. He thought the spot he had chosen would be great for hearing everything beyond the door but for the past twenty minutes nothing had vibrated his ear drums. Occasionally he would hear himself breathe, his nose hairs twitching from use causing a low whistle but even that had become quieter as time went on.

Charley rose from his crouched position and felt around the small space. He checked the wall to his left to make sure it was still in place and not really leaning on him like it felt. Groping above his head he felt the shelf and its boxes filled with pictures probably, he wasn't sure. To his right were the overcoats that usually occupied the closet exclusively. One medium sized jacket directly next to him, two big wool winter coats and one rain coat.

Charley squatted again, reached down to rub his ankles and felt something wet. Were they bleeding? He felt around and tried to sniff his hand, realizing immediately he would have no clue what blood smelled like, but then fingered the trail of water to a pair of wet rubber boots sitting beside him. This made him think of the cold pistol he had carefully laid to his left up against the wall. The genius of putting his pistol in the refrigerator the night before generated a dimple of pleasure on his left cheek. He would win, he was more sure of it now then he had been his entire wait. He settled his back up against the wall and decided to give into the country tune. Maybe the whole thing really wasn't so bad, if more then just the two lines were playing tag with his thoughts maybe he would actually like it. He sat there and sang the first line he knew out loud but just as he was coming around to the second something bumped the other side of the wall his head was resting on.

Charley sprung up to action knocking the top shelf up and then down again with his head. He rested his hand on the door knob and was about to turn it when he realized his pistol was still on the floor. With both hands Charley groped in the area he had left it and was rewarded by the cold sensation of the handle. This time Charley decided not to spring back up but remained squatted as he cracked open the door. Seeing the sliver of light he felt like a blind man healed as he squinted and tried to slowly re-acquaint himself to the outside world. The shape of a couch first then a chair and a lamp came into focus, their rich colors of purple and gold following closely behind. No bodies were around yet but Charley knew they were about to be. He allowed himself only a small open crack between the door and the frame, making sure he didn't blow his position before the right time. The fresh air seeping in through the crack caused a shiver to travel up his spine. He was ready to run, to move freely again he didn't care if it was time, he just wanted to move. No, he waited this long, he could wait some more.

His and her voices drifted up the staircase around the corner from where Charley was squatting. He renewed his grip on the door knob and the pistol, his muscles tense with anticipation. The voices stopped what seemed like two steps away from where Charley was, causing his body to move forward and back again with so much force that he almost fell out of the door. Where they walking back to where they had come from? He was sick of waiting but somehow patience possessed his body and he sat perfectly still. Actions without thought would completely ruin the whole thing and he wasn't about to have waited in vain. The voices were moving again, towards him. Four steps away. Two steps away.

The closet door was flung back with such force that a hole in the wall behind it was later proof of Charley's antics. His taught body burst from its hiding place like a pebble from a sling shot and both targets were completely soaked with ice cold water before they could even see who was in front of them. The water pistol held up for only a few seconds under Charley's exploding grip and soon both targets and Charley fell laughing onto the wet floor.

"You win!" the targets cried.

"Not it." Charley said.

Good news:

Next time i post, it will be the story i wrote for my writing fiction class involving the gun in the refrigerator

*fists and cries of joy puncture the air*

post fast!!

Guitar hero III has been rocking my world.

Passions

I started thinking about passions the other day...
As in things that we're are passionate about doing (not the soap opera).
What got me thinking about this was writing that short story for my final. I found it so exciting to sit there and create a story where characters came from my own head and developed on the page. At one point as I wrote the dialog I didn't even have to stop and think of what the other characters would say, it just sort of flowed out. It was so invigorating.
Then I started thinking about singing. There's nothing I rather do more then stand on a stage and sing. That feeling of leading people into worship of God is...indescribable.

We all have a purpose and the perfect thing about it is that God wired us to absolutely love whatever it is we're purposed to do.
It's not something we dread, or do robotic-ally, it's something that makes every fiber of our being work-like batteries have just been clicked into place.

I love that; and I don't ever want to take passion for granted.