Better place...

I hope Terri finds a better place in Heaven - than being surrounded by people who sought her death.

I feel terrible for her family.

I feel terrible that they were unable to be by her bedside when she finally died.

I hope that no parent has to live to see their children die before them.

Heaven is said to be glorious. They say that no one is incapable in Heaven. They say that all are healed. People can walk and pain is a faded memory.

I believe in ghosts - I believe in spirits and I believe in Angels.

I hope that she watches over her family.

I hope that her parents will find comfort in knowing that when they finally meet again - they will be greeted by the smile they found strength in for so long.

Swank is cheap....

Another reason to hate celebrity!

The Ocsar winner mistakenly forgot to tell them she had an apple and an orange in her bag. She was hit with a $142.00 fine. She's pleading with the government for them to excuse her stupidity.

I am not even a world traveler and I am very aware about bringing fruits into another country.

In FLL airport they have a huge bin that states: Please place all your bug infested fruit in here before going thru security or you too will be slapped with a fine.

I cannot plead for mercy. I cannot write a letter and they will pat me on my head and say

"Silly child - you are forgiven. "

What makes her so special?

When watching a show called Punk'd. The celebrities are in a variety of situations - some that involve fake cops and the movie/rock star always seems to think that they are above the law.

$142.00 Hillary.

Do the time. Pay the fine.

I'm stupid - so what!

Never said I was brilliant - only when it comes to the trivial stuff.

I agree that I am uneducated and I really could care less about the bigger meaning of it all.

HB's 14 year old had to explain to me what Pi (hope I spelled it right) was . She wears it proudly on her arm bracelet so that people can ask and she can show her brilliance by answering what it means. I will need to spell check the next word....Infinity.

My neighbor is into mysticism (another spellcheck word). She was also at the Elvis show and started to tell me how she knew what plateau (another one - why can't you use the word level) the singer was coming from during his first song - she felt the higher power and (this is where I start to look at her huge breasts and wonder if they are real).

But - if you give some questions to Trivial Pursuit Pop Culture - I can probably whoop ya'!

My flakiness is becoming. Most find it cute. Others think I am silly. Teenagers like me (except my daughter)

Adults? Some roll their eyes - I hate that by the way. You don't think that I don't notice? Well then you are dumber than you think I am.

Take it easy. Be light and breezy. Don't take life so seriously.

Have a drink - put your feet up and relax.

Watch stupid TV.

Your big brain will thank you.

HB's a girl

I have never mentioned my closet. A very scary place that bulged and bowed. It was packed to the gills and never really stable.

Many times - usually while standing in front of it naked and dripping - the whole thing would collapse.

Its a wire contraption that was held only by two little legs. Hundreds of pounds of crap were suspended by two 1x1 metal rods.

It was amazing that it actually lasted so long - I have been in that home for 5 years and nothing prepared me for the other night.

The two metal rods finally bent in two. All of the shelves that were somehow attached to those rods then came down along with it. The screws in the wall were ripped from their holes and my crap was on the floor.

I have hated my closets for some time now - but remember. I am....Frugal. Which is a nicer word for cheap. But - I am a penny pincher.

It is very apparent in many things around my house. You would never know that I fix stuff with spit and duct tape - but I do. Until it starts to catch fire (which it did) and then I have to make an emergency phone call to an electrician on a Sunday evening. But that's another story.

Well - I have wanted my closet redone and now its being fixed today.

So why is HB a girl? One of my jobs for the closet company was to get all my shit outta the way. I needed to leave them room to work and in return - I will come home to a real closet. Organized and beautiful. (So they say - we will see).

I stated to make piles in the living room. That way it will be easy to hang it all back up tonight.

But I started noticing a trend.

Although HB doesn't live with me - he has slowly continued merge his crap with mine. It used to be a few shirts - then a couple pairs of pants. Then shoes - lots of shoes. He's one of those types that never make his true feelings known.

I will ask..."So when are you moving in? He will say - I have all my stuff here - what's the difference?!?"

The difference is you don't live here and yes, all your stuff is here and probably the reason my closet collapsed!

How's that, you say?

The man has a full couch worth of clothes. I have half a dining room table of clothes.

How many khakis can a man own? How many shirts do you really need? I filled a garbage bag with clothes with the tags on them still. They look they were procured by his Mom - so I don't think he will miss them too much.

He finally comes over last night - of course after all the work has been done.

I show him the piles.

HB - this is your stuff. This is my stuff.

I say it again - more exaggerated. Your stuff - my stuff.

Maybe he will notice a trend. Maybe he will say something, anything. Maybe he will offer to pay half for the closet since apparently my little pile of stuff couldn't have done that amount of havoc on my closet.

"So what are you trying to say?" He says.

"Look at all your stuff!!!!! "

"Your stuff - my stuff. How could you possibly have so much stuff? Who needs this much stuff?"

He squirms and says....

"I have 10 years of collection more clothes than you."

Nope - not good enough.

"They are different sizes. Sometimes certain pants don't fit during certain times."

I start to giggle.

HB has a lot of clothes. Varying sizes for certain times of the month.

HB is a girl.

Fingerless

Lets talk about me.

Let's discuss my fortune.

The fortune I received from Fingerless. A name he goes by - so I am being politically correct.

Fingerless is a chef at a local Turkish establishment that J and I like to go to.

I don't know why he doesn't have any fingers - but because I am who I am....I can only make up a grand story.

I think - as he was growing up in Turkey - he led a life of crime. I bet he was a thief. A thief who was caught. Then brought out to the middle of the town square where his fingers were immediately chopped of with a huge machete. His hand was then raised over his head and the man with the machete pointed at all the little children watching....I will cut your fingers off too if you steal from me!!!!

So - that's what I think. Doesnt matter that he doesn't have any fingers...The man can cook. Everything he prepares is delicious. I could eat it every day.

He probably did a stint in the Turkish jail and they probably put him in the kitchen where he perfected his craft of Stuffed Grape Leaves and Lentil.

Along with a perfect meal - you can order a Tukish coffee. A coffee served in a expresso cup. Although sweet it resembles sludge and you must not take a huge gulp of it or you will be chewing on grounds.

After you have sucked the final bit of moisture from these grounds - you can have them read.

Fingerless will flip your tiny cup onto the plate and after watching a few minutes of a Turkish gameshow will return and give you your fortune.

The lump on the plate tells him how heavy your heart is. If there is a large lump - your sad. Sad heart. Very sad.

The he picks up a knife and starts to point out the inside of the cup.

I am gonna to get a dog. A white dog.

I am going to come into money - A lot of money.

Fish - he sees fish in the grounds. Fish are good. Fish means money. Lots of Fish!!!!

Then he counts the drops on the plate.

1-2-3-4 - Four drops.

This means - 4 days - 4 weeks - 4 months - 4 years. I dunno.

But - All of these things will come.

I am so excited - When are they going to come.....!!!!!

Again he says - 4 days - 4 weeks - 4 months - 4 years.

I dunno.

Proxy

Knowing now that JSC would pull the plug on me and that Terry's husband is ok with her starving to death. I'm a little concerned that my Mom also agreed that it's ok for her as a Mom not to have any say.

But - knowing that opening this door leads to bigger things....God Forbid our parents get Alzheimers and need someone to feed them....might as well go get that .45 so that I can get over quickly.

I have decided to name a Heathcare Proxy.

A living will, you see does not cover all bases. There are varying circumstances when it comes to what exactly can occur. Apparently a living will tries to be specific - but as we all know all laywers will find a loophole and anything can happen to me.

I am going to name my Mother as a Heathcare Proxy. If my Mother has passed then I leave it up to my Dad.

They will do what's right.

They will keep JSC away from my machine - at least for a little while.

Starvation

We wouldn't even starve a dog. Any animal that is found lacking food on the Animal Planet police show.....You surely would go to jail.

My 2 cents and then I will shutup. Shaivo situation is sad.

Fifteen years of this mess continues and will continue until someone has enough balls to stand up and make a decision. Make the decision....Its on your head....Do you starve her to death or not!?! Come on....What's it gonna be...Yes..Or...No!

Renegade judges don't have the right to decide - then it went to Congress. They couldn't make a decision....Why?

Because the whole thing falls around starving a woman to death.

Your dog is sick and can't eat - you put them down. There are humane ways to do it. A shot - a last breath. It's over.

We treat the folks on death row better.

I feel for the parents. Although she didn't have a living will and her husband is really trying to uphold her wishes. If I put myself in the parents shoes for two seconds....Two seconds...Let them have her.


******EDIT - I AM ADDING THIS CLIP THAT I WANT EVERYBODY TO WATCH AND THEN THINK ABOUT HER MOTHER******* (The clip takes a minute to come up - but I think you will undestand where I am coming from)



That is their baby. They have been there since the beginning. They see her every day. When is the last time hubby went to kiss his wife on the forehead. To whisper that he's doing everything he can? When's the last time that he showed up to court in person and didn't send a lawyer?

If I didn't have a will and the same circumstances happened to me. I would hope that my husband (although I don't have one) would let my Mom have me. If that is what she would want. If that would make her happy to try and try again to make me better. She's not going to let anyone hurt me. I am a veggie - so what do I care.

Its too late for me to care. I had the opportunity to let everyone know on paper - I failed. Now - I must live with the consequences of having my Mom do everything she can to keep me around.


Really - is that so wrong?


My two cents.

1987

In 1987 I was an 18 yr old girl who slept in front of Rickey Records for a band named U2.

The tickets were procured within 15 minutes of them opening the door for $25.00.

A lot at the time - but it was U2. They were promoting their Joshua Tree tour and played at the Orange Bowl.

Bono was a little speck of a man in a place where the acoustics are not for concerts. But - I was there.

Now we are in 2005. My love for Bono still remains. Even with all his political mumbo jumbo. I love him - want him - have to have him. I put him right up there on my "Stars to Do" list. If I every have the opportunity.

Well - life passes us by and I havent attended another U2 concert since. I watch them on TV - buy their albums and spent most of my Sunday watching them accept their Hall of Fame award.

Saturday their concert went on sale here in Florida. They will be playing in Miami in November. I looked them up on ticketmaster...$45 for general admission (first come, first serve) and I am too old and grumpy to stand for that long and have to covet my 2x2 space from being stolen by some teenager!

I want my own seat. Well - for $160.00 (though quite expensive) I figure that that I will fo it and will get over my Bono fix for another upteen years. One seat coming up! I may never do this again - this might be the time when I have my moment with Bono!!!

Approximately 13 minutes into the ticketmaster routing.....

Sold Out!

How do 20,000 seats sell in 13 minutes?!?

How do people like Tickets and More....get them and have the nerve to sell them at $500 to $1000!!!!

Theyve added another show- tickets go on sale next Saturday.

I will try again - but this will probably be another No Bono year.

I don't get it!

Overindulgence

I have a very serious issue. I CANNOT LEAVE FOOD ON MY PLATE!

If there is only a bite and I cannot see taking it home - I WILL STUFF MY FACE!

I will stuff it down as it is coming back up.

I will lay in pain and moan and groan - but I DID IT TO MYSELF!

I make fun of my Gramma - I don't do it with everything. Like lettuce. It will rot.

But if that lettuce is mixed with tuna, chicken or steak. I cannot leave the plate till it is gone.

That last piece of sushi. I paid $2.75 for. I will eat it.

I know....

I know....

Shamey - shamey.

Yooooo Hoooooo

Brotherman....

Psst....over here....guess what....

go on...guess.

Nope - wrong.

Guess again.....

Nope.

Ok - I shall tell you....

As you know HB drags me to concerts all the time. Last weekend we saw Elvis for the umpteenth time and I can't even tell you how I actually made it thru Blue Oyster Cult without scratching my eyes out.

But looking thru the New Times....guess who's coming to town?

Better yet - guess whose going to their concert.

Guess...

No - I want you to guess. I want you to dig deep. Think of a band that you blab about on your blog.

Couldnt tell you what they sing. Although HB tells me that I would be surprised.

I know... Sacriledge!!!!

Don't even know what the lead singer looks like.

Go ahead.....

Guess......ok - I will give you a hint....To the best of my knowledge the definition of the name means International Police Organization (or not...It was the best that Google had to offer)

HB says we will be the oldest ones in the audience.

"Hey - who brought their parents?!"

Im going to a rock show

Well Kinda...

HB is making me go to Elvis again.

Didn't I just go?

These shows are running together.

The man has a new album out every six months - it seems.

Pray for me.

Your fault - not mine.....

The following is taken totally out of context from a recent article on MSN to make you look like the bad guy. And me.....Poor helpless victim (heck - whatever works)

**Rivalry develops out of sibling conflict as a result of parental intervention. (See, your fault)

**When parents intervene in a conflict between siblings, one child almost always ends up being identified as the villain and the other as the victim. (Let's guess who was blamed....hmmmm)

**Nonetheless, far more often than not, the unspoken message to one child is, "You did something wrong," while the message to the other child is, "You did not deserve to be treated like that." (Boo hoo - its just a little scar - it builds character)

**In effect, the parent sides with and sympathizes with the victim, making him or her the "winner." (They called him that in a whisper when I was around - I heard it...I know)

**The siblings begin to learn that when in conflict with someone else, there is an advantage to playing the role of the victim. (Waa Waa Waa )

**The one who "wins" is regarded by both children as more loved or favored. (Hence - the sticking out of the tounge following said fights - not naming names)

**Siblings feel love and loyalty toward each other, mixed with frustration, resentment, and jealousy. You can't squelch the negative, so respond like this: "I know your sister irritates you, and you see her as a pest....Me too" (A conversation I know occured)

I'm not pointing fingers or anything....

I'm just saying.

Any

Rosco had a little sign on his cage that 'Hooray - I'm adopted!'

Adopted - yet, not to me.

Sniff - sniff.

So I filled out a MAP today. I will still go in every other day....but its so sad...I cry a sad little whimper while I am there.

So here is what I wrote - hope it gets attention.

Type: Dog

Sex: If I can get it....Oh sorry - Any

Size - 12..Oh you mean the dog...Small...Any (under 20 lbs.)

Age - Uh... Personal - Any (well not too old - I want them to be around a while).

Breed - Any

Requirements - None (actually they have to like other dogs, cats, birds and kids and guinea pigs)

Housebroken? At this point - I really don't care.

So - I look like a desperate dog searcher - maybe that will get me some kudos?

Or - they will think I am a little strange.

Cross your fingers.

Match a pet

The Humane Society has a program called Match-A-Pet (MAP). This is a neat concept because you can put your name down and specifically ask for a certain breed. But here comes the problem...

you know I can't go a day without complaining....

If you go every day and look for a dog. It doesn't matter what kind - you just want a small dog. If the dog that you like has been assigned to a MAP because they are a pure bred dog - you can put the dog on hold - but......They must call the folks on the MAP first and give them 24 hours to decide if they want the dog first.

I didn't want to be on the MAP because I didn't want to pin myself down to a breed. I was afraid that I might miss an opportunity a some little mutt that needed some love too.

Somehow - this seems unfair. I have been looking and I really don't care what breed. I only have a requirement when it comes to size.

So then there is Rosco. Rosco is a Shih Tzu. He is 6 months old and black and white. Rosco has been at the shelter since the 26th. It is now the 1st.

Hello - I would give Rosco a home now. Rosco wouldn't have to live in the cages and sit on the cold floor while they wait and see if someone else wants him. Rosco's ass would be sitting on the finest blankie I could find - prancing in the grass and scaring Moochie (my homeless wandering cat).

I understand the MAP - but to me I don't think that its fair. That some slouch can sit at home and wait for a pure bred. You don't really want a dog if your sitting at home waiting....You are hoping for a dog...Maybe. So - you get a pure bred at $90 instead of spending $800.00? First come first serve - that's fair!

I'm gonna head over there tonight.

See if I can whine my way into Roscos cage.