Sally Girl

We went garage sale-ing today.  It was awesome!!!  I got this really cool glass bottle to use for a vase for 50 cents.  The lady said $1.00, but I almost never pay the asking price because, hey, I can.  It’s all about negotiating, right?  But that’s not the cool part.

The cool part is, we’re driving past one more sale (because Grandma’s really tired and needs to get back for a nap) and just as I say “Meh… let’s skip it, nothing to see…” I slam on the brakes because ZOINKS!  A rawther large, rawther beautiful (and framed, to boot) California impressionistic painting of the Monterey coast is perched at the end of a table!  I sent Honey out to find out how much.  He came back with $50.  I was like, “No freaking way!”  Even if I had 50 bucks to blow on one thing like that, I wouldn’t just on principle!  I asked him if he would go back to the guy and say, “Hey, I’m sorry to insult you but my wife made me come back to see if you’d take $15?”

I didn’t exactly hear what Honey said, but the bargaining began.  I heard the older gentleman say, “Well how about $25?”  Honey stuck to his guns and said, “Nah, I’m sorry… $15 is the best we can do.”

AND HE TOOK IT!!!

I totally grabbed the “I got the best deal today!” crown and wore it all the way home.  I’d love to show you a picture, but I’m lazy and have no interest in messing with uploading stuff right now.  But I will, soon.  I promise.

Now, onto the whole reason for the title of this post:

As previously mentioned, Grandma came scavaging with us this morning.  I was really proud of her because she was not feeling fantastic and frankly, can’t stand to be in the car with the kids that long.  But she came anyway, and had a good time!  As a matter of fact, she scored a pretty good deal herself:  Some kind of workout ab-chair thing that’s at least $100 new at the store.  She got it for $40 new at the garage sale.  It was too big, or rather it wouldn’t fold up, so we had to go back for it later; and this is where the BUSTED!! comes in…

You all remember last year?  More specifically, last summer when my S was hit by a car that wasn’t looking where he was going (also driving without a license or insurance) and contributing factors to the accident included a streetful of illegally parked cars and no stop sign where there darn well should have been one?  Guess what we saw when we arrived home from our morning jaunt?

1.  One jackass parked halfway covering my driveway so I couldn’t get in.

2.  Another jackass with the front 1/2 of his SUV covering the brand-spanking-new (thanks to the negligent City of LMNOP where I live, who decided to put in a very noticeable crosswalk and stop sign after my son was seriously injured) crosswalk!!! Oh, but he had a handicapped placard hanging from his windshield so I guess that makes it okay.  NOPE! The stop is shaped like a T.  “O” Street is the top line of the T and my street is the leg it stands on.  This jerk had his rear bumper where the front bumper of the last legally parked car should not park further than and extended out so far into the street that if you wanted to turn right from that street onto my street,  you better pray no kids are hiding on the other side of this SUV because if they are, you’re going to kill them because you can’t see thanks to this dipwad!

3.  And last, but not least!  “O” Street filled to overflowing on both sides of the street with “NO PARKING” signs in plain view.

I told Honey we would be making a stop at the Sheriff’s substation on our way to pick up Mom’s ab-chair.  They were closed, but lucky me they had their non-emergency number printed on the doors.

I tried to be nice, I really did, I was just so furious that this was being allowed to happen again that I couldn’t hide it.  I did manage to not yell or scream, and I apologized to the dispatch operator for my tone of voice and explained why I was so irritated, and she promised they’d get somebody over there right quick.

I should’ve taken photos and called the newspaper.  Don’t worry, next time I will!

*At my father's funeral, someone standing (or sitting?) behind me laid their hand on my shoulder during the prayer. It was a gesture of comfort I have always appreciated, so much so that 28 years later I still remember it.

*One night I went to the store for formula for my baby who was hungry crying (as opposed to the "I'm bored" or "Change my freakin' diaper, lady!" cries) in the car with my husband while I ran in. At that time I was on the WIC program which provides necessary nutritious items (like formula, milk, cheese, iron-fortified cereals and juice) to children under the age of 5 that come from low income families. Also at that time each can of formula came one one "check", making the checkout process a lengthy one. Since it was 11:00 p.m. there was only one check stand open. Yay! I'm tired, baby's in the car crying, and we still have a long drive home. Could this night get any better?

Well, yes, it could. The person in front of me, who was next to be rung up, had only a gallon of milk and a loaf of bread but saw something in me that touched them I guess and pushed my cart ahead of theirs in line. Ever since, I have tried to pay this kindness to others and instead of approaching a checkout line with an "Oh crap…" on my face when I see a mom with a cart full of WIC items, I smile and talk to them about their children instead.

Dublin Prison

Yes.

It's difficult for me to say that because I know that there have been wrongful executions and there are people on Death Row that shouldn't be. But for me – those are so rare, so few and far between, that I choose to believe that God will make things right for them to make up for it.

There are people out there that need killing, and quick. They have committed crimes so heinous that death is almost too good for them, but life in prison isn't punishment enough. I have no compassion for hardened criminals, and those who advocate for their "rights" have obviously not been affected by their crimes because if they were, how could they argue for TV at all, let alone cable TV? Where is the call for personal responsibility? I understand that disproportionately many of prison inmates are black or hispanic. I understand that there have been social and economic inequalities that have contributed to their situations. But I refuse to accept one's socioeconomic status as an excuse for criminal behavior. Use your anger, your frustration, your angst to make your life better, not worse. Rise above these disadvantages by educating yourself and using knowledge as your weapon, not your hands!

nini time

Is the Coke I had with lunch. Seriously, I don't know why I bother. Coke is a cruel, cruel mistress. So good and yet, so bad!!

My body reacts to Coke so strangely that if I drink it between 10 a.m. and 7 p.m. I will be up all. night. long. But if I have one at 9 p.m.? No big.

What is up with that???

Now that it's summer and I have cable tv again, it's not so bad being up all night. I can find something on the DVR, or maybe even something soothing on BYUtv to watch. Heck, I can even pop in a DVD or watch youTube to keep myself entertained. But once school starts and I have to be the bus for B & S to get them to their new school? I'm screwed. 8:00 take-off time, or they're late. Just because it's only a 10 minute straight shot up the road from here doesn't mean I can be late. Although, the fact that I only have to make two turns is helpful, we got lucky to get into this charter. I don't want to give them a reason to kick us out!

One more thing…

Sometimes I stay up at night, just because I can. Let's face it, I'm not 23 anymore. During the school year, I have been known to go to bed as early as (shudder) 9 p.m. This is quite… debilitating to my ego as I used to work until 2 a.m., go home, sleep, and be back at work at 6 a.m for more and all without as much as a yawn. I pay for it two days later, the all-nighters, and it hurts! But it keeps me young, if only in my mind, and that's a small price to pay for youth; especially considering how expensive all those moisturizers and serums are!

Does this make my butt look fat?

But seriously, folks…

I don't think there's a deep question that I'd want an honest answer to. Why invite bad feelings or the possibility of being hurt into your life?

I'm choosing to believe that any question which has an honest answer that would hurt me is just not necessary for me to keep on living. Because the things I want to know obviously don't bother the answerer enough for it to affect our relationships, and that would be the second prong of my question, so therefore I already have my answers!

How do you ask this of a person who has multiple Besties? Are you trying to wreak havoc in my life? I have so many friends made through so many connections, and to answer this honestly requires more than one answer which might make one of them feel bad.

Religious christian statue of jesus christ in mormon visitors center near tabernacle salt lake city utah

So my best friend is Jesus.

Who else would go through all the crap that is my life and not ask for anything in return? Who else knows my deepest, darkest secrets (of which there are more than you think!), my greatest fears and wildest dreams, and loves me anyway? Now multiply that by every person that ever existed, and that is who my best friend is.

Two words: LACTOSE INTOLERANCE

There's just something about Cool Whip that makes everything better! Up until recently it didn't come in a can, but I'm thinking that wasn't such a bad thing. Cool Whip should not be sprayed, it should be dolloped onto your slice of pie or pile of fruit!

You can even use Cool Whip in place of frosting. Can you do that with whipped cream and not have it separate? No? Well, there you go then.

I'm thinking that you could even use Cool Whip for fruit dip, and I know you can't do that with whipped cream!