Yellow Jeep Blonde

Who’d Have Thought

Donna — Fri, 12 Mar 2010 02:33:44 +0000

. . . that 67 degrees would feel HOT!?! It’s so awesome!!!

What a winter we’ve all had this year!! (Let’s hope it’s close to over) Typically this area around Virginia Beach rarely sees much really cold weather during the winter. Snow is something kids dream of. But this winter has been different. We’ve seen snow. . . several times. In fact, it was snowing here once while I was texting my friends in Seattle, Washington where it was 60 degrees and sunny there. Talk about opposite weather forecasts.

I saw the predictions for the week and I saw 60 degree plus temps forecasted and I thought that was great. What I didn’t fully appreciate was exactly HOW WARM 67 degrees feels after you’ve been freezing your tush off for months. It feels like Summer!!!!! Woohooo!! Talk about a difference in my disposition. I broke out the t-shirt and shorts and felt like MYSELF again. . . only much, much whiter. (I’ll have to work on that)

My boss, the one I like, was in a really bad mood today. Something that usually really bothers me. (I take everything personally) (And well, it bothered me a little) But today, it didn’t bother me as much as usual. It’s something about warm weather that lightens up my day. No matter who’s grouchy. No matter how much stress I’m under. Sunshine and warm temps are the ANSWER!! My cure-all to what ails me.

BRING ON THE WARM SUNSHINE!!!! I’M READY FOR YA!!!

I’m ready for my flowers!! They’re coming soon!!!!!

Is It A Blip?

Donna — Wed, 10 Mar 2010 22:53:09 +0000

Or is it a baby? My very first grandbaby?!

It’s so tiny (8 weeks and 5 days) that we can’t tell if it’s a boy or a girl, but so far, baby is doing well.

Back in the day when my boys were born, sonograms weren’t done on a routine basis. Back then, they only did them if they suspected something was wrong. Heck, I didn’t even know that you could see the little nugget when it was this tiny! So needless to say, I never saw my babies in pictures before they were born. And their gender was still a mystery until the minute they popped out. The wonders of modern medicine.

I’m mixed on whether I’d have wanted to know the sex of the baby when they were born. On one hand, it’s great to be able to plan ahead, colors, names, etc. But then I did like that element of surprise the minute they were born. I guess it doesn’t matter what I’d have done because my daughter-in-law WANTS TO KNOW! And I do toooooo! I can’t wait to know now. They’ve already got names picked out and everything. So once we know, I’ll be able to refer to the baby by name instead of “it”. (I’ve never liked “it”)

You Really Should Listen

Donna — Tue, 09 Mar 2010 22:13:17 +0000

to that nagging little voice that tells you that you might ought to shave your legs the morning before you trot off to your doctor’s appointment. Instead of doing what I did and think that he’s not the kind of doctor that should make you strip down to the paper gown and think “Nah! Who’s gonna see them?”

I mean, honestly, it’s winter. I wear pants or skirts with boots to work. I wear sweats at home, pajamas to bed. Even I don’t see my legs till the sun comes out! Well, a neurologist DOES make you put on the paper gown and there my Mo’nique legs were in all their glory. (I do NOT know how that woman does it!)

Of course, since I was mortified, I commented on how if I’d have known, I’d have shaved the legs. In his driest sense of humor, he said, “I don’t care. I don’t shave my legs either.” Haha!

Suffice it to say. . . I shaved the monsters this morning. A day late and a dollar short. Just thought everyone should be kept aprized of the national event.

Another nagging little thought. . . Why do I have a zit at nearly 50 years old? I thought wrinkles were the trade-off for those nasty, little buggars.

Just saying’.

Apartments, Cars, Babies and Birthdays

Donna — Tue, 09 Mar 2010 01:52:53 +0000

What a busy past couple of weekends! And they’re getting shorter and shorter too. Last week, we helped my youngest son and his wife move into their new apartment. It’s completely refurbished with brand new everything and looks very nice. It’s large compared to most apartments around here; twice the size of his brother’s apartment. They’re looking forward to a clean, fresh start there with all the remnants of the old girlfriend GONE.

This past weekend, same youngest son purchased his very first car. For years, he’d been driving the car his dad gave him in high school (it eventually crapped out), then an old car that a friend of mine gave him (same story), then my oldest boy’s old Explorer that his dad gave him in high school. That one has about petered out too regardless of how many parts we’ve been throwing at it. It’s down to the transmission now and his patience had run OUT! So off he and his dad went car shopping.

And he did good. It’s not really what he wanted, but it was the best car that he could find in his price range. I think he did good. It’s nice, very low miles and four-door. . . perfect for the carseat that will need to be installed in seven months.

That’s right! I’m going to become a grandma in October! The had their first doctor’s visit this morning and everything is perfect. Adam called me so excited having heard the little heartbeat. He’s already saying that he “just knows” that it’s a girl. I tend to believe his gut instinct (although if I actually had a choice in the matter, I’d choose a boy – it’s all I know). You see, I KNEW that my oldest was going to be a boy without question. My second pregnancy was SO completely different from my first that I was certain that it would be a girl just for that reason. Turns out that he was just upside down, henceforth the difference I reckon. Anyway, now my baby is having a baby, and he is so happy!

This past Saturday was my little sister’s birthday. We spent many hours on the phone. We can’t believe the numbers that show up on our birthday cakes lately. When did we blink and become our mother’s age? We still feel the exact same as we did when we were girls. But the numbers don’t lie. Well, hers lie (MINE don’t) because she REALLY looks 20 years younger.

See! Happy Birthday Sister!!!

Feisty In My Old Age

Donna — Fri, 05 Mar 2010 01:46:22 +0000

I used to be such a sweet girl. I did. I used to be gullible and naive too. I used to be a doormat – for many, many years. People that have known me from back in those days are truly shocked at the transformation. Those that have just met me in recent years just think I’m wicked.

It boils down to this: I have no tolerance for bullshit anymore. I have no tolerance for people that don’t do their jobs. I have no tolerance for whiners. I have no tolerance for ignorant people who spew at the mouth like rabid raccoons. I have no tolerance for condescension. I have no tolerance for liars, snakes in the grass, and shady behavior. I have no tolerance for backstabbers. I have no tolerance for bullies, mean people, and assholes. I have no tolerance for people who mistake my gender, my Southern accent, my blonde hair, and my over-sized boobs as weakness or lack of intelligence. (Actually, I pity THAT fool.) Yet, they’re all around me! Everywhere I turn lately on a daily basis. I can’t get away from them.

The problem comes in whereas I LIKE to be a sweet person. I have great intentions every morning when I wake up to be nothing but sweet and kind and to have a fabulous day. But then I run into one or more of these intolerable behaviors and my head bursts into flames. It’s been happening for the past year.

I blame it on menopause, but it truly could be that I’m just sick and tired of being taken advantage of, walked on, and made to look like something I’m not and I’ve finally started standing up for myself. It’s hard work, but dangit, somebody’s gotta do it!

[All of this is purely a big, fat, totally generic vent-fest. It was one of those days.]

National Peanut Butter Lovers’ Day

Donna — Wed, 03 Mar 2010 22:57:42 +0000

Today, March 3rd, is National Peanut Butter Lovers’ Day. Who knew? And WHO decides these obscure holidays anyway? And who knew that I’d be eating a whole wheat bagel slathered in peanut butter when I read about it. Coincidence? I don’t know. I DO like me some peanut butter!

So in honor of National Peanut Butter Lovers’ Day, I’m going to repost my favorite Peanut Butter Cornflake Bar. (I gain 3 pounds every time I make a batch) They’re so easy and so so good.

PEANUT BUTTER CORNFLAKE BARS

2 cups Sugar
1 1/2 cups Karo syrup
2 cups Peanut Butter
12 oz box Cornflakes

Put sugar and Karo into a large pot, mix and let come to a boil on the stovetop. Remove from heat immediently. Add peanut butter and stir until smooth. Pour box of Cornflakes into the mixture. Mix very rapidly until Cornflakes are coated.
Spread into a 12 x 16 greased cookie sheet.
Cut into bars while warm.

NOTE: The “cut into bars while warm” is no joke. If you wait until these puppies have cooled, you’ll need to bring some serious muscle with you.

These things are the bomb-diggity! A huge family favorite.

The Good Wife’s Guide, Circa 1955

Donna — Tue, 02 Mar 2010 22:52:09 +0000

While I was raised in the South back in the 60’s and 70’s, I WAS raised to be a bit more subserviant than I turned out to be these almost 50 years later, so a couple of the “guidelines” did not surprise me. (They nauseated me, but didn’t surprise me) However, some of them set my hair on fire. It felt like I was reading The Good Slave’s Guide, circa 1855.

If THIS is the guide I should have followed, it explains why my marriage failed, as well as why I’ve never remarried. I’ve underlined the specific “guidelines” that sealed my fate. Were they serious? Really?

* Have dinner ready. Plan ahead, even the night before, to have a delicious meal ready, on time for his return. This is a way of letting him know that you have been thinking about him and are concerned about his needs. Most men are hungry when they come home and the prospect of a good meal (especially his favorite dish) is part of the warm welcome needed. [I'm all about cooking and feeding people so this one didn't bother me.]

* Prepare yourself. Take 15 minutes to rest so you'll be refreshed when he arrives. Touch up your make-up, put a ribbon in your hair and be fresh-looking. He has just been with a lot of work-weary people. [I don't remember HAVING 15 spare minutes in my day to "refresh myself". I was too busy BEING one of those work-weary people.] * Be a little gay and a little more interesting for him. His boring day may need a lift and one of your duties is to provide it. [And when MY day needs a lift, I'm supposed to get it from where exactly? This must have been when I met Miller Lite.] * Clear away the clutter. Make one last trip through the main part of the house just before your husband arrives. [I always keep my house reasonably neat, so this is never an issue.] * Gather up schoolbooks, toys, paper, etc and then run a dishcloth over the tables. [I always do that for ME, not just for HIM.] * Over the cooler months of the year, you should prepare and light a fire for him to unwind by. Your husband will feel he has reached a haven of rest and order, and it will give you a lift too. After all, catering for his comfort will provide you with immense personal satisfaction. [This is bullcrap. While making my husband happy WAS a goal of mine, it was not the live-all and be-all of my existence. I was also catering to the comfort of our children. He could light his own damn fire.] * Prepare the children. Take a few minutes to wash the children's hands and faces (if they are small), comb their hair and, if necessary, change their clothes. They are little treasures and he would like to see them playing the part. Minimize all noise. At the time of his arrival, eliminate all noise of the washer, dryer or vacuum. Try to encourage the children to be quiet. [It's okay for me to hear the children running through the house like banchees, and it's okay for ME to hear those annoying noises like the washer and dryer and vacuum, but goodness when HE walks through the door, we're to put on our shiniest and most noise-free faces. I think my hair just went ablaze.] * Be happy to see him. [I'd be happier to see him if I didn't have to put that damn ribbon in my hair.] * Greet him with a warm smile and show sincerity in your desire to please him. ["What can I do to serve you today, Master?"] * Listen to him. You may have a dozen important things to tell him, but the moment of his arrival is not the time. Let him talk first - remember, his topics of conversation are more important than yours. [Of course it is. Little Johnny got a fishhook in his eye today, but you go first because I'm certain that you're "work-weary".] * Make the evening his. Never complain if he comes home late or goes out to dinner, or other places of entertainment without you. Instead, try to understand his world of strain and pressure and his very real need to be at home and relax. [When donkey's fly.] * Your goal: Try to make sure your home is a place of peace, order and tranquillity where your husband can renew himself in body and spirit. [Good one.] * Don't greet him with complaints and problems. [Is this where I was supposed to greet him in cellophane?] * Don't complain if he's late home for dinner or even if he stays out all night. Count this as a minor compared to what he might have gone through that day. [When pigs fall out of the sky. I think I just found the number for my divorce lawyer.] * Make him comfortable. Have him lean back in a comfortable chair or have him lie down in the bedroom. Have a cool or warm drink ready for him. [I could actually do this one. I'm not a total ogre.] * Arrange his pillow and offer to take off his shoes. Speak in a low, soothing and pleasant voice. [I'm sorry, but if he's too helpless to take off his own damn shoes, I don't want him.] * Don't ask him questions about his actions or question his judgement or integrity. Remember, he is the master of the house and as such will always exercise his will with fairness and truthfulness. You have no right to question him. [Yep, my head officially EXPLODED.]

* A good wife always knows her place. [Or so I thought. This was the final nail in the coffin. I'm dialing for my divorce lawyer and I haven't even been married in 20 years.]
Boy, have things changed!!! Sorry men! I bet it was great while it lasted.

The Finger Has It

Donna — Mon, 01 Mar 2010 22:59:11 +0000

It’s not what you think. I don’t know what it means other than it’s been a month tomorrow that I filleted my right index finger and today it feels worse than the day I did it. There’s a reason though.

Last Friday, I accidentally ripped half the flap off (they called it “nature’s bandaid” – I called it part of my finger). It snagged on my shirt as I was changing clothes. Let me tell you how fast my entire body completely froze. It was stunning how quickly I froze as I realized what was happening. I think even my hair froze and I’m fairly sure that my hiney puckered abit. Then I ever so slowly released it from my shirt to look at it. ICK! Half the flap was torn half off exposing “not ready for primetime” skin.
Whereas they had wanted me to leave it open to heal, I did not take that advice. I was certain that they wouldn’t say that if they were looking at what I was looking at. So I put some Vitamin E on it and bandaged it back up ever so delicately.

THEN while I was at the doctor’s office this morning, she decided to trim it up some (after having soaked it for 15 minutes) so I wouldn’t have anymore snags. And the REST OF THE FLAP peeled off people! You want to know what she said? Huh? She said, “Ooops.” I said, “Doctor’s are not supposed to use the word Ooops. It shouldn’t even be in your vocabulary.” I kept thinking about Tom Hanks screaming “There’s no crying in baseball!” and thinking “There’s no Ooops’ in the doctor’s office!” But I got an Ooops. And it didn’t hurt her a bit.

Apparently, it had only barely been holding on (so she said). Now I’ve got what looks equivalent to a large, fresh burn; like a big, giant blister.

Finally, my finger has it! It had her attention. She HAD been manhandling it (she called it “massaging” it while I called it “manhandling” it) every time I saw her making me quake in my boots and wonder if my left hand was coordinated enough to take a swing at her and actually make contact. But not today. No, she was ever so gentle today. Thank goodness. I may have had to fight her with my lame left arm had she taken her normal stance.

Anyway, it’s bandaged up bigger and better than ever and she instructed me to be VERY CAREFUL with it, not to bump it, stretch it, or put any pressure on it or it my “burst”.

Now, there were a number of responses I had to those instructions. First, was “Duh! You don’t have to tell ME twice to be careful.” And second, the term “burst” sent shivers down my spine. Eeewww! I don’t want my finger to “burst”!!!

Let’s just say. . . I won’t be doing any cartwheels anytime soon. I’ll continue to henpeck at my keyboard with my awkward finger position. And Ouchie!!!!!

Random Thoughts

Donna — Sat, 20 Feb 2010 22:36:51 +0000

This list of random thoughts came from a friend of mine in an email. Some of you may have already read this, but I think some of them are pretty funny.

Random Thoughts for the Day:

1. I think part of a best friend’s job should be to immediately clear your computer history if you die.

2. Nothing sucks more than that moment during an argument when you realize you’re wrong. (Yeah, I really hate it when this happens)

3. I totally take back all those times I didn’t want to nap when I was younger.

4. There is great need for a sarcasm font. (I totally and wholeheartedly agree)

5. How the heck are you supposed to fold a fitted sheet?

6. Was learning cursive really necessary?

7. Map Quest really needs to start their directions on #5. I’m pretty sure I know how to get out of my neighborhood.

8. Obituaries would be a lot more interesting if they told you how the person died.

9. I can’t remember the last time I wasn’t at least kind of tired.

10. Bad decisions make good stories.

11. You never know when it will strike, but there comes a moment at work when you know that you just aren’t going to do anything productive for the rest of the day.

12. Can we all just agree to ignore whatever comes after Blue Ray?
I don’t want to have to restart my collection…again. (AMEN!)

13. I’m always slightly terrified when I exit out of Word and it asks me if I want to save any changes to my ten-page research paper that I swear I did not make any changes to.

14. “Do not machine wash or tumble dry” means I will never wash this
— ever.

15. I hate when I just miss a call by the last ring (Hello? Hello?
Dang it!), but when I immediately call back, it rings nine times and goes to voice mail. What’d you do after I didn’t answer? Drop the phone and run away?

16. I hate leaving my house confident and looking good and then not seeing anyone of importance the entire day. What a waste. (But it is guaranteed that if you run out really quickly looking a mess, you will run into everyone you know)

17. I keep some people’s phone numbers in my phone just so I know not to answer when they call. (Clever idea!)

18. My 4-year old son asked me in the car the other day “What would happen if you ran over a ninja?” How the heck do I respond to that? (You got me on that one)

19. I think the freezer deserves a light as well.

20. I disagree with Kay Jewelers. I would bet on any given Friday or Saturday night more kisses begin with Miller Lites than Kay. (hahahahaha!)

Funny Friday Fhoto

Donna — Fri, 19 Feb 2010 22:18:12 +0000

Apparently they didn’t consider the sun when designing this wall.

Anyone want to take a guess where this wall is located?
SAINT PETER’S BASILICA

I can’t make this stuff up.