or not.
I think about a lot of random things at relatively odd times. Most of the time I keep the thoughts to myself... because surely nobody else has wondered the same thing. Or have they??
Like Notre Dame.
The most famous Notre Dame is a cathedral portraying a fine example of gothic architecture in Paris, France. I realize everyone knows where the Notre Dame is located but I stated it's location for a reason.
The Notre Dame is french and is directly translated to: "Our Lady" meaning the "Blessed Virgin Mary".
There are more cathedrals bearing the Notre Dame name throughout the world:
Algeria
Notre Dame d'Afrique in Algiers
Canada
Notre-Dame Basilica (Montreal)
Notre-Dame Church (Montreal)
Notre-Dame-de-Bon-Secours Chapel, Montreal
Notre-Dame de Québec Cathedral in Quebec City
Notre-Dame Cathedral Basilica, Ottawa
Haiti
Cathedral of Our Lady of the Assumption, Port-au-Prince, the Catholic cathedral, also called Port-au-Prince Cathedral
France
Basilica of Notre-Dame de Fourvière in Lyon
Bayeux Cathedral, also Cathédrale Notre-Dame de Bayeux
Chartres Cathedral, also Cathédrale Notre-Dame de Chartres
Église Notre Dame de l'Assomption, Metz
Église Notre-Dame la Grande, Poitiers
Notre Dame des Cyclistes, in Labastide-d'Armagnac
Notre-Dame de la Garde in Marseille
Collegiate Church of Notre-Dame, Melun
Notre-Dame de Nice
Notre Dame de Paris
Notre Dame du Haut in Ronchamp
Reims Cathedral, also Notre-Dame de Reims
Strasbourg Cathedral, also Cathédrale Notre-Dame-de-Strasbourg
Rouen Cathedral, Notre-Dame Rouen
Luxembourg
Notre-Dame Cathedral, Luxembourg
Philippines
Notre Dame of Greater Manila in Caloocan City
United States of America
Basilica of the Sacred Heart, Notre Dame, in Indiana
Church of Notre Dame (New York City)
Vietnam
Saigon Notre-Dame Basilica in Ho Chi Minh City
So now I have given you a bit of Notre Dame trivia regarding cathedrals around the world bearing the same name. Although the Paris, France Notre Dame is the one that most people regard when the cathedral's name is mentioned.
A bit of trivia regarding the regions in which the above named Notre Dame Cathedrals are located:
France -- they speak French
Canada -- they speak French in the regions of the Notre Dame locales
Vietnam -- the French occupied Vietnam once upon a time
Luxembourg -- they speak French
Algeria -- the French once occupied Algeria
Haiti -- once French occupied
You see a pattern here???
hint: FRENCH
So back to my thoughts ... see, I didn't stray...
Notre Dame, the University. Located in Notre Dame, Indiana aka South Bend, Indiana.
The mighty Notre Dame --she is French
So WHY on God's GREEN EARTH is Notre Dame called the FIGHTING IRISH?
The Fighting Irish.
Notre Dame is FRENCH.
Shouldn't the university be called by the FRENCH namesake: "The Fighting French".
And most students at Notre Dame are of Irish descent because some ethnicity challenged nitwit has stated matter-of-factly that Notre Dame is Irish. It is a school to attend for the Irish Tradition. The luck of the Irish.
Clearly the above average 1700+ SAT scorers residing as university students know that Notre Dame is French and not Irish, right?
So WHY oh WHY is Notre Dame not FRENCH????
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
I am not the only one.
There is a whole subculture of wives who participate in the same type of activity.
We omit facts.
Facts that involve numbers.
Facts that involve numbers that make up something called "Prices".
And those numbers usually participate in the game of shopping.
Q: How much did you pay for that?
A: The amount is usually 40 to 50% less than actual pay.
Q: Is that new?
A: No, I've had that. See, you, never pay attention. I showed you that about six months ago... at least.
I have only met one lady who seems to be completely appalled by the fact that wives play this little game. Because I'm sure that lady is totally honest 100% of the time with her spouse. Perhaps, she is honest about shopping but maybe not so honest about the cute cabana boy. Just a guess...
Anyway, I have heard some fun stories from salesclerks and cashiers over the years.
At the drycleaners, one lady paid for a surprise 70th birthday party for her husband that ran in the amount of a few thousand dollars. The drycleaners has a policy: $10 minimum charge on a credit card. So she would always make her amount for $10 or $15 depending on the week. If her bill totalled $7.50 then she would pocket the $2.50 (or $7.50). She did this weekly. She saved every cent of it. And she gave her lovely husband one helluva surprise! I love that story!!!
And at Walmart, one woman or a few, purchase gift cards at the kiosks set up near the checkout lanes. Gift cards like Macy's or Barnes & Noble or Ann Taylor. They purchase a gift card during their weekly grocery shopping trip. Then they go shopping at the location of their recent gift card purchase!! Wife spends less at Macy's (or at least, in appearance)! ha ha ha.
At the salon, one woman pays for half of her beauty treatments with cash and the other half is on credit card. That way, hubby only sees the credit card portion and thinks that it is such a little amount to make his wife sooooo happy. In turn, he feels happy paying the half amount!!
And in a friend's home, the residing hubby firmly believes that there is always a sale somewhere... it just isn't his wife's job to find them all.
There are more stories. And every wife has one. From some moment or another...
And all I say is ... GO WIFE!!!
We omit facts.
Facts that involve numbers.
Facts that involve numbers that make up something called "Prices".
And those numbers usually participate in the game of shopping.
Q: How much did you pay for that?
A: The amount is usually 40 to 50% less than actual pay.
Q: Is that new?
A: No, I've had that. See, you, never pay attention. I showed you that about six months ago... at least.
I have only met one lady who seems to be completely appalled by the fact that wives play this little game. Because I'm sure that lady is totally honest 100% of the time with her spouse. Perhaps, she is honest about shopping but maybe not so honest about the cute cabana boy. Just a guess...
Anyway, I have heard some fun stories from salesclerks and cashiers over the years.
At the drycleaners, one lady paid for a surprise 70th birthday party for her husband that ran in the amount of a few thousand dollars. The drycleaners has a policy: $10 minimum charge on a credit card. So she would always make her amount for $10 or $15 depending on the week. If her bill totalled $7.50 then she would pocket the $2.50 (or $7.50). She did this weekly. She saved every cent of it. And she gave her lovely husband one helluva surprise! I love that story!!!
And at Walmart, one woman or a few, purchase gift cards at the kiosks set up near the checkout lanes. Gift cards like Macy's or Barnes & Noble or Ann Taylor. They purchase a gift card during their weekly grocery shopping trip. Then they go shopping at the location of their recent gift card purchase!! Wife spends less at Macy's (or at least, in appearance)! ha ha ha.
At the salon, one woman pays for half of her beauty treatments with cash and the other half is on credit card. That way, hubby only sees the credit card portion and thinks that it is such a little amount to make his wife sooooo happy. In turn, he feels happy paying the half amount!!
And in a friend's home, the residing hubby firmly believes that there is always a sale somewhere... it just isn't his wife's job to find them all.
There are more stories. And every wife has one. From some moment or another...
And all I say is ... GO WIFE!!!
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
10 months
My baby is ten months old.
And, really, she is not a baby anymore.
It happened quickly... infant to baby to pre-toddler.
In a blink. I blinked and she was no longer a baby.
She wants to keep up with her big sisters.
I thought for sure that my baby - who truly is the baby in birth order - would want to stay a baby for as long as possible: riding on my hip till she is six, carrying a baba around till she begins kindergarten, sucking on a pacifier till her baby teeth fall out, and wearing diapers till the principal calls to reprimand me. I really thought she would stay a baby for as long as I wanted her to.
Well, she didn't.
She is on the verge of walking. Yes, walking.
I am not ready.
This has been a great year. And so the preparation begins to plan her very FIRST BIRTHDAY party. LADYBUGS.
Last year, my little girl was born on my eldest daughter's first day of second grade.
The year before, my middle little had sutures on my eldest daughter's first day of first grade.
The year before that, my eldest daughter's first day of kindergarten was a dud and it set the tone for the entire year.
So what could possibly happen on the first day of third grade?
My eldest has a plan:
Before putting baby to bed, I am to write a secret message on baby's diaper.
In the morning, daddy is to get baby out of bed and change her diaper.
When he changes the diaper, he will discover the secret message:
"I am going to be a BIG SISTER!"
With camera in hand, we capture daddy having a heart attack.
I think we will proceed with my eldest daughter's plan. It will be a memorable start to her third grade year!!
And, really, she is not a baby anymore.
It happened quickly... infant to baby to pre-toddler.
In a blink. I blinked and she was no longer a baby.
She wants to keep up with her big sisters.
I thought for sure that my baby - who truly is the baby in birth order - would want to stay a baby for as long as possible: riding on my hip till she is six, carrying a baba around till she begins kindergarten, sucking on a pacifier till her baby teeth fall out, and wearing diapers till the principal calls to reprimand me. I really thought she would stay a baby for as long as I wanted her to.
Well, she didn't.
She is on the verge of walking. Yes, walking.
I am not ready.
This has been a great year. And so the preparation begins to plan her very FIRST BIRTHDAY party. LADYBUGS.
Last year, my little girl was born on my eldest daughter's first day of second grade.
The year before, my middle little had sutures on my eldest daughter's first day of first grade.
The year before that, my eldest daughter's first day of kindergarten was a dud and it set the tone for the entire year.
So what could possibly happen on the first day of third grade?
My eldest has a plan:
Before putting baby to bed, I am to write a secret message on baby's diaper.
In the morning, daddy is to get baby out of bed and change her diaper.
When he changes the diaper, he will discover the secret message:
"I am going to be a BIG SISTER!"
With camera in hand, we capture daddy having a heart attack.
I think we will proceed with my eldest daughter's plan. It will be a memorable start to her third grade year!!
Monday, June 13, 2011
Proud to be a Mommy
At summer's start, my girls and I created a bucket list of "things we want to do" over the next eighty-one days of summer vacation.
Our list includes touristy items like visiting "Legoland". And we listed simple items like "making stepping stones". Plus, the everyday items were noted: swimming with the blue night light, catching fireflies and picking fresh peaches. Yet, we left plenty of opportunity for impromptu activities that we may possibly learn about at the last minute.
So, it was an impromptu activity that led us to our recent outing. And an "OUTING" it was.
We headed into town to have lunch at one of our favorite eateries. Plus it has outdoors seating and we wanted to enjoy the weather from within the stratosphere.
Upon reaching our destination, we noticed that there was a festival of sorts going on across the street. After lunch, we went to check out the festival. And the temperature was perfect.
And the closer we came to our destination, I realized the more colorful it was. There were rainbows everywhere. And signs that said PRIDE advertised every empty telephone pole space. And flamboyant costumes began arriving.
Since I have one child that can read -- too well for today, I had to use my imagination because how was I going to explain this festival. Because clearly we haven't studied this topic in school yet.
children: "Mommy, what's going on?"
me: "Oh, it's a festival."
children: "What kind of festival?"
me: "Oh, a festival for people."
children: "Can we stay? We're people, aren't we?"
me: "Yeah, we're people. We can stay for a bit."
children: "Mommy, what is a PRIDE festival?"
me: "HUH?"
children: "Those signs say PRIDE."
me: "Oh, they do."
children: "Yes, what is a PRIDE festival?"
me: "Oh, it's for mommies and daddies. See all the rainbows. Children love rainbows. And this PRIDE festival is for all the PROUD mommies and daddies. They are sooooo PROUD of their children."
children: "Oh! So is that daddy PROUD of that other daddy? Because they are KISSING."
me: "Oh. Yeah. Well, Um, Huh?"
me: "I just remembered we have to go to the park before it closes. How about swinging and sliding?"
PS why do the PRIDE get the entire rainbow? It is something I have always wondered about!!
Our list includes touristy items like visiting "Legoland". And we listed simple items like "making stepping stones". Plus, the everyday items were noted: swimming with the blue night light, catching fireflies and picking fresh peaches. Yet, we left plenty of opportunity for impromptu activities that we may possibly learn about at the last minute.
So, it was an impromptu activity that led us to our recent outing. And an "OUTING" it was.
We headed into town to have lunch at one of our favorite eateries. Plus it has outdoors seating and we wanted to enjoy the weather from within the stratosphere.
Upon reaching our destination, we noticed that there was a festival of sorts going on across the street. After lunch, we went to check out the festival. And the temperature was perfect.
And the closer we came to our destination, I realized the more colorful it was. There were rainbows everywhere. And signs that said PRIDE advertised every empty telephone pole space. And flamboyant costumes began arriving.
Since I have one child that can read -- too well for today, I had to use my imagination because how was I going to explain this festival. Because clearly we haven't studied this topic in school yet.
children: "Mommy, what's going on?"
me: "Oh, it's a festival."
children: "What kind of festival?"
me: "Oh, a festival for people."
children: "Can we stay? We're people, aren't we?"
me: "Yeah, we're people. We can stay for a bit."
children: "Mommy, what is a PRIDE festival?"
me: "HUH?"
children: "Those signs say PRIDE."
me: "Oh, they do."
children: "Yes, what is a PRIDE festival?"
me: "Oh, it's for mommies and daddies. See all the rainbows. Children love rainbows. And this PRIDE festival is for all the PROUD mommies and daddies. They are sooooo PROUD of their children."
children: "Oh! So is that daddy PROUD of that other daddy? Because they are KISSING."
me: "Oh. Yeah. Well, Um, Huh?"
me: "I just remembered we have to go to the park before it closes. How about swinging and sliding?"
PS why do the PRIDE get the entire rainbow? It is something I have always wondered about!!
Sunday, June 12, 2011
does this count?
If I find a dog, can I take it home without checking in with the other head of household?
If I find a cat, can I take it home?
Is finding the same thing as "seeking"?
Can I seek out a dog to take home and just pretend that I "found" it?
Can I seek out a cat to take home and just pretend that I "found" it?
Does the same "theory" apply to "finding" a cute pot-bellied pig?
What about rescuing an animal? I am totally for saving an animal!!
Can I pretend that I "found" a rescue animal although money was involved in the exchange of ownership? Plus a vet check up, a microchip, heartworm pills and spaying/neutering were included in the exchange.
Imagine my surprise when my daughter received a pet for her birthday. I was so excited. Excited for her. A pet of her very own. A gift. A thoughtful gift. A fun gift! Did I mention how excited I was when she was given a pet!!!???
What a great opportunity! A great way to receive a puppy or a kitten! I did not even have to pretend to find, seek, hunt down, rescue or buy a pet that is clearly unwanted by another head of household (only because he knows he will be on Poop-Duty for the rest of his life)!!!
So, hours after my daughter was informed that she was the new owner of a new and cuddly pet... she finally received her pet.
giver: "I sure hope you like fish."
me: "Of course, we like fish. We eat fish 4 to 5 times a week: white fish, red fish, pink fish, shellfish, ... all kinds of fish."
giver: "HUH???"
me: "We just love fish!"
giver: "Well, I kind of mean... do you like fish?"
me: "UMMMM, yes, duh, we love fish."
giver: "I kind of mean... do you like fish for pets?"
me: "real ones???"
giver: "yes, duh!!!"
me: "real ones???"
And you should have seen my expression!
giver: "I bought this cute betta fish for your daughter."
me: "Is it alive?"
me: "Where do I keep it?"
giver: "Yes, it is alive. You keep it anywhere you would like."
me: "The toilet?"
giver: "HUH???"
me: "No, really, where is the cute puppy? or kitty? or shetland pony? really, we can have one of those at home."
giver: "HUH???"
me: "damn, damn, damn, damn. no puppy. no kitty. no shetland pony."
giver: "Here, birthday girl, this is your new fish. He is so happy to be in your home now."
daughter: "Yeah! My fish!"
giver: "What will you name him?"
daughter: "damn, damn!"
If I find a cat, can I take it home?
Is finding the same thing as "seeking"?
Can I seek out a dog to take home and just pretend that I "found" it?
Can I seek out a cat to take home and just pretend that I "found" it?
Does the same "theory" apply to "finding" a cute pot-bellied pig?
What about rescuing an animal? I am totally for saving an animal!!
Can I pretend that I "found" a rescue animal although money was involved in the exchange of ownership? Plus a vet check up, a microchip, heartworm pills and spaying/neutering were included in the exchange.
Imagine my surprise when my daughter received a pet for her birthday. I was so excited. Excited for her. A pet of her very own. A gift. A thoughtful gift. A fun gift! Did I mention how excited I was when she was given a pet!!!???
What a great opportunity! A great way to receive a puppy or a kitten! I did not even have to pretend to find, seek, hunt down, rescue or buy a pet that is clearly unwanted by another head of household (only because he knows he will be on Poop-Duty for the rest of his life)!!!
So, hours after my daughter was informed that she was the new owner of a new and cuddly pet... she finally received her pet.
giver: "I sure hope you like fish."
me: "Of course, we like fish. We eat fish 4 to 5 times a week: white fish, red fish, pink fish, shellfish, ... all kinds of fish."
giver: "HUH???"
me: "We just love fish!"
giver: "Well, I kind of mean... do you like fish?"
me: "UMMMM, yes, duh, we love fish."
giver: "I kind of mean... do you like fish for pets?"
me: "real ones???"
giver: "yes, duh!!!"
me: "real ones???"
And you should have seen my expression!
giver: "I bought this cute betta fish for your daughter."
me: "Is it alive?"
me: "Where do I keep it?"
giver: "Yes, it is alive. You keep it anywhere you would like."
me: "The toilet?"
giver: "HUH???"
me: "No, really, where is the cute puppy? or kitty? or shetland pony? really, we can have one of those at home."
giver: "HUH???"
me: "damn, damn, damn, damn. no puppy. no kitty. no shetland pony."
giver: "Here, birthday girl, this is your new fish. He is so happy to be in your home now."
daughter: "Yeah! My fish!"
giver: "What will you name him?"
daughter: "damn, damn!"
Monday, June 6, 2011
mom-itch
Recently, I read an article that emphasized that you should be doing what you want to be doing to be truly happy.
So, my 1st question is:
"How do you know if you are not happy?"
"Did somebody tell you or did you decide for yourself that the happiness truck has not made deliveries this month (or week or year or decade)?"
And the 2nd question is:
"What should you be doing to be truly happy?"
"Did somebody tell you what you should be doing or did you just decide that making mud pies and selling them on eBay would make you truly happy?"
When I read statements like my first sentence... it gets me thinking. And since my mind wanders about quite a bit... I just wonder how these statements can be so general and nonsensical.
Or how about this magazine article statement: "Do what you love and the money will follow."
Firmly planted on the sofa with a pillow prop, lying on my ass, with a coffee table set up with my reading material, the remote, snacks, and drinks in a nearby dormsized fridge... How will MONEY follow this scene???
I love to read. Perhaps, money will follow.
However, reading frequently gets me in trouble at my physicians' offices. What? You don't have several physicians on speed-dial???
Whenever I read a disturbing article, I have overactive dreams that awaken me with the possibility that something might in fact be wrong with me. I place an urgent call to my doctor so that I can verify my dream or discredit my dream as well as the article I have memorized.
Like the time I wouldn't sleep for three weeks -- because I was sure I was carrying a "dwarf" baby during pregnancy.
Or the time I insisted I had an underactive thyroid. Total denial about the leftover baby fat. And the hostess twinkie addiction.
Or the time I .... well, you get it. I suppose my OCD interferes with my hypochondriac tendencies.
So, now that I have checked in with all my doctors I have discovered that I need three surgeries this fall. How can I possibly find time to take care of that??
I will no longer be calling my physicians. I will be looking for newdoctor friends to call with my "issues". Because I am quite sure my new friends won't be recommending surgery for fixing... they will hopefully be suggesting "brown bottle tonic".
So, my 1st question is:
"How do you know if you are not happy?"
"Did somebody tell you or did you decide for yourself that the happiness truck has not made deliveries this month (or week or year or decade)?"
And the 2nd question is:
"What should you be doing to be truly happy?"
"Did somebody tell you what you should be doing or did you just decide that making mud pies and selling them on eBay would make you truly happy?"
When I read statements like my first sentence... it gets me thinking. And since my mind wanders about quite a bit... I just wonder how these statements can be so general and nonsensical.
Or how about this magazine article statement: "Do what you love and the money will follow."
Firmly planted on the sofa with a pillow prop, lying on my ass, with a coffee table set up with my reading material, the remote, snacks, and drinks in a nearby dormsized fridge... How will MONEY follow this scene???
I love to read. Perhaps, money will follow.
However, reading frequently gets me in trouble at my physicians' offices. What? You don't have several physicians on speed-dial???
Whenever I read a disturbing article, I have overactive dreams that awaken me with the possibility that something might in fact be wrong with me. I place an urgent call to my doctor so that I can verify my dream or discredit my dream as well as the article I have memorized.
Like the time I wouldn't sleep for three weeks -- because I was sure I was carrying a "dwarf" baby during pregnancy.
Or the time I insisted I had an underactive thyroid. Total denial about the leftover baby fat. And the hostess twinkie addiction.
Or the time I .... well, you get it. I suppose my OCD interferes with my hypochondriac tendencies.
So, now that I have checked in with all my doctors I have discovered that I need three surgeries this fall. How can I possibly find time to take care of that??
I will no longer be calling my physicians. I will be looking for newdoctor friends to call with my "issues". Because I am quite sure my new friends won't be recommending surgery for fixing... they will hopefully be suggesting "brown bottle tonic".
Sunday, June 5, 2011
memory loss
by choice. perhaps? study is inconclusive.
Certain moments trigger my memory. Random thoughts. Obscure moments. At one time I high-fived myself for having an amazing memory, and then I had children. And have totally lost my mind, memory - short and long term, and the brain appears to be stuck in pause mode.
The only person out there doing the "happy dance" is my husband. Yup, that's right ... wife loses brain and husband is happy-dancin' around town. And that is only because I now cannot dredge up some unfortunate past situation regarding his family.
You know the kind of family that finds itself into every conversation:
him: "I really would appreciate it if you could help me with the pool."
me: "Well, if your lazy ass sister hadn't visited ten years ago... then, maybe, ...."
him: "What does SHE have to do with the pool?"
me: "Well, if she didn't swim in it, then, maybe..."
him: ????????
me: "It's totally related!!!!"
Discussion is CLOSED. I think I may have WON.
But one night, I had a recollection. In public. In company that I don't know well. And this company surely doesn't know me.
The group began to tell stories. Stories that I listened to... as any wallflower would do. I like to listen. Participating is something I do not do well. But the conversation turned to DWIs and Police Encounters. Why?
I do not know.
And for some unknown reason, I felt the need to chime in with my "secret".
"What I do when confronted by an officer while speeding:
Why, I talk DEAF, of course.
Doesn't everybody?"
And so, in a group of about 20 people, I spoke in my DEAF voice.
And the entire room of 431 people fell silent. Dead silent. And as 862 eyes rolled in my direction... considering that everyone has both eyes... I laughed. Nervously. And then, I ran. Out the door. And to my home.
Upon arriving at home, a friend (among the small group of 20) called to say, "You're Good. Were you ever deaf before?"
"Thorry...ong number. CLICK".
Certain moments trigger my memory. Random thoughts. Obscure moments. At one time I high-fived myself for having an amazing memory, and then I had children. And have totally lost my mind, memory - short and long term, and the brain appears to be stuck in pause mode.
The only person out there doing the "happy dance" is my husband. Yup, that's right ... wife loses brain and husband is happy-dancin' around town. And that is only because I now cannot dredge up some unfortunate past situation regarding his family.
You know the kind of family that finds itself into every conversation:
him: "I really would appreciate it if you could help me with the pool."
me: "Well, if your lazy ass sister hadn't visited ten years ago... then, maybe, ...."
him: "What does SHE have to do with the pool?"
me: "Well, if she didn't swim in it, then, maybe..."
him: ????????
me: "It's totally related!!!!"
Discussion is CLOSED. I think I may have WON.
But one night, I had a recollection. In public. In company that I don't know well. And this company surely doesn't know me.
The group began to tell stories. Stories that I listened to... as any wallflower would do. I like to listen. Participating is something I do not do well. But the conversation turned to DWIs and Police Encounters. Why?
I do not know.
And for some unknown reason, I felt the need to chime in with my "secret".
"What I do when confronted by an officer while speeding:
Why, I talk DEAF, of course.
Doesn't everybody?"
And so, in a group of about 20 people, I spoke in my DEAF voice.
And the entire room of 431 people fell silent. Dead silent. And as 862 eyes rolled in my direction... considering that everyone has both eyes... I laughed. Nervously. And then, I ran. Out the door. And to my home.
Upon arriving at home, a friend (among the small group of 20) called to say, "You're Good. Were you ever deaf before?"
"Thorry...ong number. CLICK".
Friday, June 3, 2011
where's the beef?
OK. C. this one is for you. I am back from my mental vacation... although I am officially on vacation. Well, the children are anyway. And since they are on summer vacation, I think I will revert back to my early years and think of myself as on vacation too.
No dinners, lunches, or breakfasts. Well, on a schedule anyway. We are going to be so far off schedule. Mainly due to the fact that I am being detained for being a smartass.
One of my favorite parts about growing up ... other than daydreaming I was an only child ... was the visitation rites to military bases/facilities. So, now that I am considered a non-dependent, the only way I can visit a military base/facility is to attend with my parents. I cannot believe the military has cut me off!!!
Recently, I had the opportunity to visit a base. Name of base is unknown due to security reasons. And my name.
I arrived with a very eager- to- follow- the- directions attitude. No misinformation. I was trying to be serious... as in NOT using the B-word (bomb) at an airport even if you are just totally joking around. Because as I have been warned THAT is NOT a joke, AT ALL!!
Military person: "May I see your ID?"
Me: "Yes".
Me: "Here it is".
Military person: takes ID and appears to be studying it a bit too closely. "HMMMMM."
Me: "I am definitely over 21"
Military person: "I AM NOT CHECKING YOUR AGE."
And so that is how I ended up in "detainment".
I suggest not joking with anyone who has the authority to screw your day over.
No dinners, lunches, or breakfasts. Well, on a schedule anyway. We are going to be so far off schedule. Mainly due to the fact that I am being detained for being a smartass.
One of my favorite parts about growing up ... other than daydreaming I was an only child ... was the visitation rites to military bases/facilities. So, now that I am considered a non-dependent, the only way I can visit a military base/facility is to attend with my parents. I cannot believe the military has cut me off!!!
Recently, I had the opportunity to visit a base. Name of base is unknown due to security reasons. And my name.
I arrived with a very eager- to- follow- the- directions attitude. No misinformation. I was trying to be serious... as in NOT using the B-word (bomb) at an airport even if you are just totally joking around. Because as I have been warned THAT is NOT a joke, AT ALL!!
Military person: "May I see your ID?"
Me: "Yes".
Me: "Here it is".
Military person: takes ID and appears to be studying it a bit too closely. "HMMMMM."
Me: "I am definitely over 21"
Military person: "I AM NOT CHECKING YOUR AGE."
And so that is how I ended up in "detainment".
I suggest not joking with anyone who has the authority to screw your day over.
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