Word Cloud

As seen at Songbird and Phantom Scribbler's!

You go to this site, and it will make a cloud taken from words contained in your blog. It's pretty cool. They'll even make you a t-shirt! :)

You Know What That Means.....

It's Friday, so it's now time for another installment of Friday Poetry Blogging! Thanks to jo(e) for helping make us all more well-rounded, poetry-spouting individuals.

Today's installment comes to us fresh from the banner year of 1789, courtesy of William Blake. I submit this entry in honor of all the parents of the Blogosphere.

Songs of Innocence
A Cradle Song
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Sweet dreams form a shade
O'er my lovely infants head.
Sweet dreams of pleasant streams,
By happy silent moony beams

Sweet sleep with soft down,
Weave thy brows an infant crown.
Sweet sleep Angel mild,
Hover o'er my happy child.

Sweet smiles in the night,
Hover over my delight.
Sweet smiles Mothers smiles
All the livelong night beguiles.

Sweet moans, dovelike sighs,
Chase not slumber from thy eyes,
Sweet moans, sweeter smiles,
All the dovelike moans beguiles.

Sleep sleep happy child.
All creation slept and smil'd.
Sleep sleep, happy sleep,
While o'er thee thy mother weep

Sweet babe in thy face,
Holy image I can trace.
Sweet babe once like thee,
Thy maker lay and wept for me

Wept for me for thee for all,
When he was an infant small.
Thou his image ever see.
Heavenly face that smiles on thee.

Smiles on thee on me on all,
Who became an infant small,
Infant smiles are his own smiles,
Heaven & earth to peace beguiles.

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The Other Man in my Life

Every year, my little family heads south to Disney World. This summer, we will make our ninth trip to, as we say, worship at the shrine of the Mouse. Many of our friends and family ask why we return, time and time again to the same place. There are many reasons. First -- there are always new things to see and do at Disney World. There's been a new ride every year we've gone, and Animal Kingdom opened on our second or third trip. We've been to Disney so many times, and yet we still haven't managed to do everything yet. Second -- it's within our budget. We book our vacations a year in advance, and pay a little off each month. This is the only way we'd ever be able to afford it! If we just had to come up with two thousand "extra" dollars, we'd never make it. Third -- there's something for everyone. My husband goes into paroxysms of delight over Star Wars Weekends at MGM Studios. Offspring revels in all the animal life at Animal Kingdom and thrills to the water slides at the water parks. I love the Magic Kingdom; from Cinderella Castle to riding Space Mountain, from eating turkey legs to nibbling on Mickey-shaped tortilla chips.

When Offspring was small, she was all about the Princesses. It was a major thrill for her to place her small hand in Cinderella's white satin-gloved one, and have her picture made. She sat with awe, in Cinderella Castle on the big throne, wide-eyed at the knowledge that her idol, Cinderella, was somewhere in that castle. Even at ten, she's still pretty fond of Cinderella. We don't have to rush-rush-rush like we once used to for the photo op with "Cindy" these days, but seeing Cinderella Castle still evokes a gasp of delight from her.

As for me, I'm all about Mickey. I love Mickey. Far more than any grown woman ought to. This Christmas, I got a Mickey watch, a Mickey pocketbook, a Mickey necklace and earring set, and countless other Mickey items. I think my husband's starting to get suspicious!

When people ask me why I still go to Disney World after all this time, all I have to do is whip out the pictures. Don't we look like we're having fun? How can you resist this face?

Friday Poetry Blogging

I was tooling around the Blogosphere tonight, and I notice that jo(e) has up an inducement to contribute to a little bit of poetry love. I can get behind that! Thanks for the suggestion, jo(e)!

While I'm not what I would call a poet myself, I have dabbled in poetry. It's mostly too horrible to read and WAY too painful to post, but I will contribute to the lyrical love with a poem that has long captivated me, from one of my most favorite poets: Percy Bysshe Shelley.

Ozymandias
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I met a traveller from an antique land,

Who said -- "two vast and trunkless legs of stone

Stand in the desert ... near them, on the sand,

Half sunk a shattered visage lies, whose frown,

And wrinkled lips, and sneer of cold command,

Tell that its sculptor well those passions read

Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,

The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed;

And on the pedestal these words appear:

My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings,

Look on my Works ye Mighty, and despair!

Nothing beside remains. Round the decay

Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare

The lone and level sands stretch far away."
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I have always loved this poem. It reminds me of the impermenance of flesh while giving testament to the immutability of stone. Shelley clearly lays out the feel of this poem. I can see the swirling sands and the half-buried monoliths. I can feel the harsh sun beating down upon my head. I can hear the call of the ancients as they eddy around me like the desert sands. Good poetry does that to you.

Where have all the flowers gone?

I don't fancy myself as a high-maintenance person. I don't wear makeup. I shower and get ready to go wherever it is I need to go in fifteen minutes or under. I don't paint my nails. My two concessions to vanity are perfume (usually) and earrings (most days.) My clothes, while not setting any fashion trends to be sure, are clean, well kept, and I look presentable.

I don't think I'm very attractive, but I'm a darn nice person. I try to treat others the way I would want to be treated. I try to be fun to be around. I try not to get caught up in all the backbiting and gossip that you normally get when you work with primarily women. I try to smile at everyone, and I try to say hello in the mornings. Well...as far as mornings go....I'm not perky like a cheerleader, but neither am I a total grouch once I get moving.

Why is it, then, that people seem to feel like they can talk about me within my hearing as if I'm not there? Do they think that fat has so clogged my eardrums that I'm not capable of hearing the hurtful things they say? I'm not saying that I expect people to strew rose petals at my feet as I walk by, but what ever happened to common courtesy?

Southerners, in general, are excellent at smiling at your face and then shredding you to bits once you walk away. I've never lived anywhere else, so I'm not sure whether this is purely a Southern phenomenon or not. It's almost like it's a hobby. A pastime of sorts. An exercise in vitriol.

I guess I shouldn't be all that shocked by the fact that there are still people over the age of five who like to point out all my imperfections. You would think that so-called adults have better things to do with their time than to try and verbally flay a co-worker. When did civility take flight? When did the empathy and compassion of the Average Joe take wing out of the window?

Instead of "Where have all the flowers gone?", maybe I should be asking "Where have all the manners gone?" Or, maybe I should be asking myself why this all still surprises me.

The Reveal!

My Christmas was made so much brighter by the wonderful Suze from Still Baking! I was the proud












recipient of a lovely cheery red stocking stuffed with amazing Christmas goodies! I knew that it would be a great package even before I got the mailing envelope opened -- it smelled *heavenly*! Like a fine chocolatier's shop! Boy, does Suze know the way to my heart!

I got a wonderful quilt magazine (from which I shall be kept busy for NEXT Christmas!), some dark chocolate hot cocoa, a (unfortunately squished, but still yummy!) chocolate reindeer, two wiggly Christmas pencils, a Christmas candle, a pad of paper (for making lists of all those things I normally forget!), and some Christmas-themed fingernail decals that I am instructed to share with Offspring. What a haul! Here are pictures. I'm not going to show the envelope, so as to preserve what little anonymity I have left. :)

Thank you, thank you, thank you, Suze! I love my gifts, and you are as sweet as Southern Iced Tea (so sweet you can stand a spoon up in the glass!) to help make my holiday even more special. I hope the gifts that you got were as lovely as the ones you sent me. Now, please excuse me while I clean chocolate reindeer bits out of my keyboard.

My Secret Spoilee was.....

...***Sue*** at Inner Dorothy! I was so excited to be choosing things for Sue! She had mentioned on her blog that she LOVED Starbucks and chocolate marshmallow candies, so I knew those would feature heavily. Sue also mentioned that her chosen holiday was Christmas, so I knew I could find lots of good Christmas-y things to fill her gift box with.

Her main gift, I decided, would be a homemade item. I didn't really know if Sue was a craft-lover like Andrea and I, so I punted. Everyone has Christmas pictures, right? I figured that I could make a small scrapbook that Sue could use to record details about this Christmas. I left all the pages blank, thinking that Sue could put in her own journalling to make the scrapbook all about her and her loved ones. Here's a picture of me with the open scrapbook....

I also added some Christmas-smelling candles, a couple of felt ornaments, a package of foot-pampering soak tablets, and some warm fuzzy Santa socks. I then packed up the box to mail.... and away it went to Canada!

Sue, I hope you had as much fun opening and enjoying your present as I did making and sending it. Part of the joy of the holidays for me is sharing my blessings, and I was fortunate enough to run into such a great group of blog friends, and even more fortunate to have been matched up with such a genuinely wonderful person. I wish you all the best, and all the love of the season.

Hey, is this thing on?

As seen practically everywhere -- it's International De-Lurking Week! I was unaware that the lurkers constituted such a major faction as to garner a whole week. As is often the case, I am tragically unhip, and behind scads of other, more popular, bloggers in relating this not-so-breaking news.

Do I actually *have* any lurkers? Or regulars, for that matter? :)

At any rate, welcome. I'm glad you're here. Don't worry, my insanity isn't contagious. Probably.
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Cool buttons can be found at Paper Napkin!

Words cannot express how much I love you

Ten years ago, at 10:31 am, you were born, and you changed my life. When I married your dad, I felt that I could never love anyone as much as I loved him. And then you came along. Before I had you, I wasn't really living. Your smile makes my heart skip a beat. You make each day more precious than the last. Dad and I love you with all our might.

Happy Birthday, darling girl.

Love always,

your Mama

My House Has Exploded!

It was bad enough when I had to commando-clean the house in order to find room for all the new Christmas stuff. It was even worse when we got more furniture to stuff in our ever-shrinking rooms. But today -- today was the final indignity! Offspring's 10th birthday party. Oh, the horror. There are toys every. fricking. where.

And, it goes without saying, my child is as spoiled as they come. The bratling racked up presents galore, $80 in cash, and $65 in gift cards. And she only had 10 kids come to the party! Of course, the money was burning the proverbial hole in her pocket, and we had to make a late afternoon run to Target. She's now broke. And, it looks like a Toys "R" Us threw up in my living room. And in her bedroom. And down the hallway.

Her actual birthday isn't until Monday. I can only imagine that a few more gifts will trickle in in the next few days.

Happy Birthday, Monkey. Mama loves you more than you will ever know.

Woo-hoo!

My package finally came! Yay! I'm so excited!

I had to leave school on my lunch break to go to the Post Office to get it. I had promised myself that I wouldn't open it until I got home, so I could get Offspring to take pictures. Like my resolutions, that promise (as nice as it was) didn't last long.

The smell from my gift was overwhelming! It had a lovely chocolate fragrance wafting from it, and it was simply begging me to be opened. So, like the weenie that I am, I opened it!

I love it! Thank you, Secret Santa! (I know we're not supposed to openly say names and whatnot until Jan 14th, but I can't let this go by without at least sending you my thanks!) I love all my gifts, and I thank you for thinking of me. I'm sorry it worried you -- it had to travel a looooong way to get to me. :)

I can't wait until the 14th, when we get to reveal the contents! :)

So Much for *that* New Year's Resolution....

I try not to make New Year's resolutions, simply because I am lazy, and it seems too much like setting myself up for certain failure. But, against my better judgement, I actually (privately) made some resolutions that I was going to try my hardest to make come to fruition.

Number one was: Try to get more exercise.

Two was: Try to eat healthier.

Three was: Weed out 99/100's of the cursing in my vocabulary.

It comes as no surprise to anyone who knows me fairly well that number three has already bit the el big-o wiener-o. The reason for polluting my airspace with harsh invective? Scads and scads of the Secret Santa bunch have not only *gotten* their gifts, but got to open them as well! I'm still gift-less. (Mumble, grumble....@#$#%#......)

I guess I'll have to go and break resolution number two and eat some chocolate to console myself....

Out of Commission

Sorry that I've been incommunicado lately. You all know how busy this time of year is...

I've had relatives in from out of town, wanting to do the get-together thing, and I was temporarily down for the count this morning with a killer migraine.

I hope to be spending a little more time around here soon. Hope everyone is well, and that you all had a great start to 2006. Happy New Year, everyone!

The Aftermath

Now that the living room is ankle-deep in toys (both Offspring's and JF's), I thought I'd take a moment to check in and see how all of you are.

Did you have a nice holiday? For those of you celebrating Hanukkah, I admire your stamina. I'm wiped out. Did you enjoy the time with your families? What gifts were the big hits?

I have been very fortunate. I live in a wealthy nation, surrounded by people who love me. I am in no mortal danger (unless you count my overly gaseous husband) and I'm free to speak my mind, either here on my blog, or in person. I'm relatively healthy, and so are most of my loved ones. I have wonderful friends, a job I enjoy, and money enough to pay my bills and buy a few extras. I'm a very lucky individual. Thank you, Lord, for heaping these blessings upon me. I may not seem appreciative all of the time, but I am. I truly am.

Thank you, Blog friends, for all of the support that you have shown me. Thank you for your constant encouragement, and your many kindnesses. I wish you all a wonderful 2006, and many of your own blessings, both big and small.

These Are a Few of my Favorite Things

With Christmas and the beginning of Hanukkah sl close upon us, I wanted to take a minute and talk about the things I like most about the season.

First off, I like the excitement of the children. Whether it's my own child, or my charges at school, I love seeing the wonder as it dawns on their faces. I love the exclamations of joy, and the happiness that seems to encompass all around.

I love all the searching for the "perfect" gift for someone. I love baking all the goodies. I love spending time with my family. I love the sense of togetherness and "all is right with the world" that I see around me.

Now, JF is convinced that I'm a hopeless optimist, and he's probably right. Scrivener is busy pointing out what, exactly, is wrong with our so-called leaders, and Peripatetic Polar Bear got robbed. Yes, I know terrible things are happening out there, and while I'm not ignoring them, the good of this time of year always seems to override the bad. At least, in my little corner of the world (and in my mind) it does.

I love having a Christmas tree. I bought new lights this year for the tree (LEDs, yay!) and only bught two strands, rather than the three or four we normally use. JF exulted over the fact that we no longer had a "frickin' glow tree" in the living room. Apparently, I like frickin' glow trees, too.

I don't have all that memories of Christmases growing up. Not because they weren't good, or anything, but because I'm lucky I can remember my name most days. And, it's a real good day if I can remember that the clothes go on with the seams on the inside, and where the hell my car keys are. (I once found my car keys in the refrigerator. I'm at a loss to explain how they got there in the first place. Don't ask. If you're like me, it'll just make your brain go all hurty.)

For those of you that can remember, here's a little Christmas meme:

1) What is your most vivid memory of Christmases/Hanukkah as a child? (This can be good or bad, whichever you want to play it.)
My answer -- My grandmother had a split level house, and it was set on a sloping hill. I remember being at her house for one Christmas when I was small, and actually waking up with snow on the ground. (This **never** happened.) We went sledding on the hill, and I remember the sensation of flying.

2) What is your fondest memory of Christmas/Hanukkah as an adult?
I think it would have to be making the holidays special for my daughter and husband. I especially cherish the first Christmas where Offspring really participated. She was almost 2, and the delight she took in the tree, and the gifts, and in Santa was a joy to behold.

3) What was your favorite gift as a child?
I can't remember a particular favorite, but I do remember getting a plastic cow that drank water out of a trough and mooed very loudly. (JF thought I was insane when I related this gift to him several years ago. We had to get online and prove that there really was such a thing.)

4) What was your favorite gift as an adult?
The ones my daughter bought with her own money. When she was in first grade, she bought me a butterfly pin, and she picked it out all by herself, with her own allowance, and even wrapped it all on her own. I think it was the fact that she worked so hard to make me happy.

5) What's your favorite holiday tradition? (This can be a well-known one, or one just from within your own family.)
We all joke that my mother-in-law could burn Jello. Actually, there's some truth to that joke -- she really can't cook. So, we always go to her house for Christmas Day, and then go to a local Japanese restaurant for "Christmas Dinner." It started because the Japanese place was the only thing open, and it's now become a tradition.

6)What's the one thing you have to eat for the holidays?
Lately, I have to have the infamous "Praline Cookies." I got the recipe from a co-worker last year, and they have quickly become a favorite.

Anyone who is interested is welcome to keep this meme going, either here on on your own sites.

Everyone, have a good holiday, and spend time with the family.

What's the deal with the clothes?

Several bloggers I know have mentioned children's clothing lately. Phantom Scribbler recently ranted (in a good way, though) that young boy's clothing is sadly devoid of bright colors. Her son, LG, is a big fan of bright colors, and bemoans the fact that all of the jewel-toned clothing are destined for young girls. A great many of her commenters agreed with her, and her son's feeling.

I mentioned my end of that same sort of complaint. Now that Offspring is out of the "child" stage, and into the "tween" stage, there are very few clothing choices for her that I like. There is the propensity for dressing young girls up like slutty models. There are very few places I can purchase clothing (especially on a budget) that won't make my way-too-young daughter look like a drunken sorority sister on the make.

The shirts are cut very small, accentuating breasts (or what could become breasts) and showing off a slice of midriff. Never mind that I don't want my daughter to wear shirts like this to begin with, they also aren't allowed at school. So, why should I spend hard-earned money on clothing she can wear only on weekends?

The pants are just as bad. If they aren't riding so low as to provide us with (to bastardize a phrase from Phantom's comments) "an elevated risk of buttcrack", they are so skin-tight that normal children can't breathe or eat while wearing them. Granted, my child is no string bean, and she could deal with some extra exercise, but she's not all that hefty. She shouldn't have to worry that she can't wear a certain type of pants because she's "too fat." She told me the last time we went shopping that she didn't like half of the choices available because she didn't want to run the risk of being teased due to how she looked in them.

And the retro clothes! Ugh. Bellbottoms were designed in one of the seven circles of hell, I'm sure. (Probably by the same dastardly little imps that design Plus Size Women's clothing, but that's another rant...) The "peasant" look only looked good on waif-like hippie girls then, and it's still true today. My daughter fell in love with a purple peasant outfit, and like a dutiful mother, I bought it for her. It's too thin to wear to school, and she hates the shirt because of all the smocking and gathering. It's not a flattering look for her, but I love her, so I bought it. I tried to tell her when she asked for it that it wasn't going to get worn a lot, but to no avail.

I don't like the Courtney Love/junkie look. I don't like the unwashed hair and clothes that look like they've been slept in (and barfed on) for a few days running. I don't want a miniature model. I don't want clothes that are aimed at making my daughter look as if she is a hooker in training. I don't care for the idea that a randy seventeen year old boy can't tell from behind that my child is only ten because the only clothes that are available to her make her look much older than her years.

I want some clothes that my daughter can wear that are age-appropriate. She's almost ten. I don't want her to look fifteen, or fifteen-trying-to-look-eighteen. I want clothes that she can wear to PE class, and get dirty. I don't care if they're brand name or not, as long as they're good quality. I want clothes that will wash fifty-seven times without falling apart or unravelling. I want clothes that don't shrink into toddler sizes the first time you wash them. I want clothes that make my little girl look like what she is -- a happy tween with better things to worry about.

Can't Stand the Cuteness!

Okay, so all of you know that I teach kindergarten, right? This, of course, is the time of year when our little darlings are busy as beavers, constructing all those lovely little items to bring home to you, the doting parents. In the last few school days, we've made wreaths, candy trains, gingerbread houses, 3-D christmas trees, ornaments with the kids' pictures on them, colored countless holiday themed pictures, and made (and ate) decorated cookies. Needless to say, the kids are about to spontaneously combust from all the excitement. Today, they got yet another reason to hype them up beyond all rational thought. Not only was it the last day of school, but it was also the day that Mrs. K broke out the red lipstick.

Now, I don't normally wear a lot of makeup, and there's good reason. I take you back to when we had school pictures made back in, like October, and one of my little angels says, "Mrs. K, what's wrong with your eyes? They're all spiky and scary!" Plus, I did so much theater for a while that my face really can't stand to be covered under all that goop, and it rises up in retaliation when I do try to subdue it with said makeup.

I have one little boy that I adore. I know, I know -- we're not supposed to have favorites! We all do, even though we aren't supposed to. It's not that I don't love all the rest of them, too...but this one little guy is just cuter than anything. He's very quiet and shy, and very sweet. He always finishes his work first, and sits quietly until we tell him what to do next. He has excellent manners, and is just a treat to teach. I've been trying to drag him out of his shell all year -- trying to get him to warm up some. His mother says he talks about his teachers all the time, but we see little of it at school. Since he's so well-behaved, I have been teasing him that I was going to bring my reddest lipstick to school and kiss him all over with bright red lips. He thought I was kidding.

Today, I broke out the big guns! The dreaded red lipstick. You would have thought that I had broken out a bottle of acid and the whips the way they screamed when I fished it out of the bottom of my pocketbook! I called my favorite little guy up for a kiss, and he made like a turtle on me. He put his head down into his jacket, and wouldn't come out for love nor money. I told him that I wouldn't kiss him if he didn't want me to. He didn't. I let him go. But all those other rascals got big red lips on their cheeks! They all snickered and guffawed at each other. I told them they were magic kisses, and they'd get a special Christmas wish if they left them on all day. All except one left school today sporting a bright red smacker on their cheeks.

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Offspring has discovered her weasel-like nature. The other night, while she was getting ready for bed, I told her to go on and brush her teeth, and I'd be there in a minute. She said "Okay!" and scampered off to the bathroom. When I went back to her room a few minutes later, expecting to find a scrubbed child ready for bed, she was lounging on the couch in her room, watching her TV. I said, "What happened to tooth brushing?" She said, "Oh! You meant now?" Well, duh. She went to brush her teeth, and came bopping back a few minutes later. Her jaw dropped open when I motioned her towards her bed. "But...but....what about a story?" I explained to her -- "That time that you spent, watching TV instead of brushing your teeth? That was your story time. And you wasted it." She looked shocked, but started to climb the ladder to her loft bed. "I hate it when you find loopholes!"

The Sounds of Silence

OK, so I've not been blogging any lately. Blame it on the busy holiday madness. Blame it on all the thousand little projects we're making at school. Or on all the work I've been doing on my Secret Spoilee's gifts for Andrea's Winter Holiday of Your Choice Gift Exchange. Or all the extra shopping and baking.

Hopefully, all that will change soon, as there's only 2 more days of school, and I plan on mailing my package for my Spoilee by Saturday. (Only slightly late, as the deadline is today. It's kind of hard to do when I'm in school, and the Post Office is usually closed by the time I leave my school, and pick Offspring up from hers.) I should soon have more content for my regular readers, whopping crowd of seven that you are.

I have, as instructed, taken pictures of my gift package in construction, which I will post when allowed; and I have some pictures from my class that I might post when I get some free time. We made gingerbread houses in class today, and those are always fun. I will be able to both post more and read more over my Winter Break.

Hope all of the Bloggy Buddies are doing well, and having a warm winter. :)

The Tale of the Spoiled Kid and the Late FedEx Truck

As many of you are aware, the Offspring (the fruit of m' loins) is indeed a spoiled kid. She's spoiled in the way that the first-born grandchild of 4 sets of grandparents can only be. She's not *mean* spoiled, but she's been doted on from in utero. Both JF's and my parents are divorced, so that means she has: my mother and stepfather; my father; JF's mother; and JF's father and stepmother. The only set we don't see on a fairly regular basis is JF's father and stepmother, but that's another post entirely.

My father, who lives one state away in CityOfMyBirth, absolutely adores his only grandchild. She is the apple of his eye, and he would move mountains for her. He has contributed to her spoilage factor greatly by seducing her with gifts and money and trips to the zoo. In short, his job as grandfather is to make her think that he's WAY cooler than I ever made him out to be. He is succeeding.

He discovered the Vermont Teddy Bear Company some time ago, and has since invested what seems like thousands of dollars on these bears as gifts to his beloved (spoiled) granddaughter. I knew he had ordered her yet another (frickin') bear as part of his Christmas gift to her. He had warned me to be on the lookout tonight for the Fed Ex truck, as today was the date it was to be delivered.

Tuesday evening, we go to Girl Scouts for our normal weekly meeting. We return home about 8pm, and come in the house for dinner. At 9:15, Offspring heads off to bed. At about 9:40, JF decides he needs to go look for something in the car, and discovers a box on the doorstep. There had been no box there when we returned home at 8pm. The FedEx truck must REALLY be backed up with all of the Christmas deliveries, to be out so late!

So, we set the box aside for Monkey Girl to open in the morning. Needless to say, when I told her the next morning that she had a package waiting from Grandpa, that was the fastest I'd ever seen her clamber out of bed.

She opens the box to find these lovelies. Grandpa, you spoil her unmercifully. (Plus, you're making us all look bad! Stop it!)

Oh, well. Things could be worse, I suppose. I'll just be grateful that he's still here to spoil her.

The Hypocrites are Out There....and they're coming for me

You know how some days, it just seems like the world is conspiring against you? As the witty Edmund Blackadder once pithily stated, "Once more the Devil farts in my face!"

As I mentioned, I am trying to watch what I eat. While at school today, my coworker, who knows I'm trying to be more healthful than slothful, offers me an ice cream. It wasn't deliberate sabotage, but it sure felt rather Puritannical of me to say "no."

And, speaking of mixed messages, when I passed through the staff work room this afternoon, there were brochures and coupons for a new health club and personal training sessions lying side-by-side with coupons for discounted and free pizzas. Isn't this like offering jello shooters at an AA meeting? I suppose they figure you could gorge on the pizzas and then head off to the spa to either be sick or to work the pizza off.

Another sound bite in the saga of Hypocrites Are Out To Get Me today was the coworker that laid into me a few weeks back not only *spoke* to me today, after weeks of icy silence, but actually managed not to sound like she was being fed ground glass in order to pretend to be polite. All in all, it was a rather Bizarro World sort of day.