What the hell happened to me?

It turns out that I used to not only dress better, but I used to blog better, too. I used to blog a lot at work, especially when I worked for The Devil. Perhaps misery really does lead to much better art. I spent a bit of time reading over my May 2006 blogs and turned up a couple of things that made me laugh--things that made me feel a tiny bit closer to my newest hero, Tina Fey (and yes, I loved her even before the whole Sarah Palin thing; I am just that hip):

(From a post entitled "People at Work"):
When I say "she's so slow", I mean SLOOOOOW. I mean watch a sequoia seed from its light landing on the forest floor until its giant mass is inadvertantly shot down in a battle between post-apocalyptic humans and space aliens slow. And she never talks to anybody! Except for the one time I heard her say to someone that she has recovered from her back surgery, I have never heard her make a peep. I am a monster!

Why don't I take the time to come up with Rush lyric-like examples of how slow someone can walk down a hallway not wide enough for two? Now that I actually work at work, is my brain tapped out? I just can't find the space in the 95% or so that goes unused to come up with something halfway amusing or creative? Has life worn me down so much that I use tired-ass phrases like "life worn me down"? Geesh.

Here's another from a post called "P.J. and the Bear (AKA...KONG!!!)":

Why are there "Limited Edition" Skittles? Do people collect Skittles now?


That is followed by a pretty funny review (if you're askin' me!) of one of the worst movies ever; that would be Peter Jackson's "King Kong".

I think there's something about cubicle-life that turns on the brain in a way that no other work environment can. Maybe because my job was so uninspiring, so grey, I took the time for some inspiration in my blog. (No, I'm not saying I was all that, just that I was better at this than I am now.) Perhaps that is why the two funniest shows in the history of the world take place in a drab office (The Office) or while going about the boring to-dos of daily life, sorta like an outdoor cubicle world (Curb Your Enthusiasm--not Seinfeld). And don't forget Office Space. Good stuff.

Like little Stephen Penney, aspiring Canadian filmmaker and hero of the made-to-be-watched-on-acid movie "The Big Crimewave", calling from his mother's womb while she sits watching a bad movie, probably Peter Jackson's King Kong...

"I can do better!"

It's like a dream!

Every time I sign onto the internet, I see another headline about another Bush-era nightmare that Obama is shaking us out of. I know it's a serious job in a serious time and all, but how much fun would it be to wield a pen and reverse eight years of idiotic, greedy, misguided, for-all-the-wrong-reasons decisions, all of which I disagreed with? From abortion and stem cells to Gitmo and the war on terror, Obama is saying uh, sorry, but uh we're not doing that anymore. The time for childish things is over!

I'm beginning to believe--really believe--that this guy could be the one. He seems legit! Oh please, please, please, let me, let me, let me, get what I want this time.

I didn't mean to quote The Smiths; it just happened! And what I want is, well, Eliot Ness--untouchable. Uncorruptable. Decent. Brave. Doesn't buy into the things that turn people to the dark side. Please, President Obama, be the one we speak fondly about for the rest of our lives! Be the one and do the things we get nostalgic and weepy about when we relate your time in office to our grandchildren oh so many years from now. Let these be the days!

The evening of the day after...

I sure am getting my Mom and Dave's money's worth for this home internet service. I've been sitting here the better part of the day, which accounts for the whiny post directly below this one. I'm not getting a lot of work done, but I did do one thing that is definitely progressive and sure to delight Burb:

I created a blog for Missouri River Monument Co.!

You can see it here:
www.morivermonument.typepad.com

Why typepad? Simple. Typepad allows a custom banner. To my knowledge, blogger does not (help me out here, Burb). The typepad service we are getting costs $15 a month--a bargain, really, especially compared to the cost of a swanky new (static, boring) website. And we have a banner and will be customizing soon.

If anyone has any advice re: which blog service to use, how best to get to the top of google, any of that stuff, I'm all screen-weary eyes!

This whole thing started at the agritourism conference I attended last weekend. The best session was about how to best take advantage of online marketing opportunities. The speaker said a website (for a business like ours) is fine but is often little more than an online brochure (guilty). A blog lets you have the same thing as a website and so much more because of its inherent ease-of-use. Yes, I'll be learning some new tricks. Since I'm used to blogging I'm already inspired to do a lot more with a blog than I do with my website which is, currently, nothing. We never did shell out the $1200 to update its tired design, and its future is uncertain. So we'll blog.

Comments? Ideas?

The day after....

Woke up with a cold, a lamb that could barely stand, and a feeling of being overwhelmed by all the work I need to do, and that feeling keeps me from starting.

I came home from a morning meeting feeling droopy. I decided to shop online for something to wear to the annual dinner next week, a semi-formal affair. Even online I can't find a thing. There are loads of plus size stores, but I hate almost all of the clothes (not all fat girls have big boobs OR want every dress to stop right at the knee!). The clothes I liked were sold out in every color or not offered in my size or not available until the day after the banquet. Even online shopping is a terrible chore.

I bought some fabric and a pattern for an easy skirt. I go to make it just now (with my neglected work duties pounding at my head) and find out that I got the wrong size pattern. I could go for it, but I'll still have to shop for a top and shoes. My wardrobe is a disaster. I'm starting to care because I've watched some "What Not To Wear" episodes and I'm looking at the fit of my clothes (or lack thereof) with a very critical eye. I have safety pens holding up bargain basement hems, a top collection consisting of little more than v-neck t's, and two pairs of work shoes--brown clogs and black clogs. I think back to the day when I used to dress really cute, in a grunge sorta way, for next-to-nothing because I had the time to scour the thrift stores for cast off 501s and rose-print jersey wrap dresses. I've always liked fashion because I love color and pattern and shape, but you'd never know it. I either lack the shape, the money, or the time to pull together a great wardrobe.

See? This is what shopping does to me. It just sucks! I hate it so much! But the pressure is there to look halfway decent!

I need an Obama motivation infusion! I'm losing it already!

Goba-a-a-ama!

A couple of great things happened today. We got a new president. The full enormity of both Obama's swearing in and Bush's long ride home haven't quite hit, though I did shed many a happy tear--and clapped heartily in my empty living room--during the inauguration events, and I watched a lot of it.

Also, when I left this morning, I decided that my sheep April was either in labor or finally dying of old age. When I returned at 10:30 to watch the inauguration, she had given birth to two lambs. One was dead, but the other was very alive. S/He hasn't been what I'd call thriving--she has been slow to use her long back legs and I only saw her suckle for a few seconds. Her mom, April, is one of the old ewes with old, misshapen teats. April's last lamb managed to do OK (Harry Potter is now a full-fledged ram) so I'm hoping this one works it out. As of late tonight she is still alive and, because of that, must be receiving some nourishment.

A new president; a new lamb. I was on at city council tonight, speaking for three different issues. First, the tourism budget, with garnered several clarifying questions but no verbal opposition (Yay! I got two pay raises in two days!). The big Chamber celebration is moving back downtown to near-universal acclaim, although when we will have fireworks and who will pay for them remains unresolved. And the downtown revitalization initiative that everyone in-the-know is excited about passed--barely. If you've ever doubted how one vote can make a difference.... Hometown almost became the first town in Missouri (out of 30) over the last three years to refuse this state program that offers comprehensive studies and a plan for revitalizing our downtown and, thus, our entire town for only 20% of what it would normally cost because of one man who has a personal vendetta against the one woman who secured us the grant in the first place. I was sweating it, standing there at the council meeting, as six names were called, five of whom had to say yes. Five did. Here's hoping that lone nay vote comes back to bite a certain someone in the ass.

Back to Obama. I am thrilled. Really thrilled! Although inherently mistrustful of authority figures until they deem themselves worthy, I am truly hopeful that Obama will change the game and bring real change in the way that we talk to one another and get things done. I really am inspired to do more. That is saying something. That is what a good leader can do. Godspeed to Barack Obama.

And may I say...I love the first lady's color chutzpah! I love that she says 'mom-in-chief.' I understand the chafing on behalf of those who say she is much more. She is! But it was her husband who was elected. She is already influential and I doubt she'll let this platform pass her by. And she's there for no more than 8 years. She already puts her children first. A woman that accomplished can afford to take a few years and make sure her daughters grow up right amidst the glare. Those kinds of choices are what feminism is all about. I don't think that she is pandering for the sake of politics in any way.

On Monday our family attended a service in honor of MLK Jr. and Obama at a black church. It was a moving experience. Kevin and his co-worker created a plaque for the occasion, entitled "The bridge that brought us across", that featured the Edmund Pettus bridge in Birmingham with MLK saying "I have a dream" on one side and Obama's "Yes we can!" on the other. It was on the front page of the hometown paper this morning! The best part of the service was when one of the speakers said, "Rosa Parks sat so that we could stand, Martin Luther King stood so Obama could run, and Obama ran so our children could fly." And Stevie was standing beside me, singing, and it was a great afternoon.

Good night, dear reader, and wake up tomorrow ready to go!

Wednesday. 10:25 p.m.

So I start another post because I spent a little time reading old blog posts and got inspired by something and, in the time it took me to sign in to post, I forgot what I was going to post about.

I spent an awful lot of time trying to find the SNL skit of Will Forte and Peyton Manning in the locker room, Will Forte dancing to a Herb Albert song. I saw it on TV a week or so ago and was trying to find it for Stevie's and my amusement. NBC, in their wisdom, don't have it posted, though it's hard to make that a definitive statement because, in their wisdom, they don't have a 'search' feature for their posted skits and they've made sure to put a cease-and-desist on youtube and similar sites who had it posted at one time. Buttholes.

I didn't go and read, but all the boys are in bed and it's at least been quiet. My moods are rather volatile these days and I'm not quite sure what set me into a mildly bad mood tonight other than the desire to spend a little time alone. You'd think I'd be able to better manipulate my moods at the ripe age of 38 and 11/12ths.

I had to take a pee test the other day for my tourism job. I don't smoke dope anymore. It, like alcohol, lacks the crispness it used to have on my younger brain. If I have more than two drinks, or try to get a buzz on a lazy night, I just get sleepy and dull. Plus, I have to take pee tests. I ponder how I might cheat on a pee test, just for kicks, but decide that it would be pretty tough. The tester eyeballs your pockets--after you strip down like you're going through airport security--and waits outside while you pee. You can't flush or wash your hands. As soon as you're finished, you zip up and go straight to the bathroom door and the tester (a young male) walks right in and looks in the toilet. Then he takes your cup, you wash up, and go through the paperwork. What if I switch to autopilot and flush? The horror. God forbid we smoke a doobie on a Tuesday night or something. I feel well-protected now that I know I won't be comin' to work all whacked out on a spliff and direct a tourist to go north when I really meant south! Dude!

But my past isn't far behind. Despite mindless, caffeine-fueled (yes, I just drank a diet soda at bedtime), bad stream-of-consciousness blogging, I still have yet to light upon the inspiration for this post.

Wednesday Night.

Another new thing in my life this year is my decision that seven hours of working with nary a cigarette/coffee/stop-and-chat in the hall/lunch break constitutes an eight hour day. Thus, I've been heading to work at 8 and leaving at 3. Most days--I am not a robot, dear reader.

At 3, I pick up Stevie, then Mark, run any errands (maybe a trip to the bank or grocery store) and head home. Once home, I can get Stevie started on his hours (lately) on homework, change Mark's poopy pants (he's good with the pee but not the poop) and start on dinner. Please try to separate the poopy pants from the dinner.

It's been great! I am a morning person and tend to fade, work-wise, in the afternoon. I'd actually do pretty well on the old siesta system if I didn't have to go back to work in the evening. I'd rather pile it on and get it over with. But I like going home at 3, and I like to cook, and it makes for a relatively stress-free evening.

Not this evening, though. This night, I wish all three boys were on vacation. Stevie has had these ridiculously long homework bouts lately, often punctuated by tearful outbursts. No outbursts tonight; just FOUR HOURS of homework punctuated by frequent daydreams. And a trip back to school to get the homework that he forgot. Again. He never would have made the trip--with Mark and me in tow on a cold day--if I not reminded him that when he fails to bring home his homework, he is denied the Wii. I'm convinced that the Wii video game console is the world's #1 behavior manipulating tool, and an OK, cheap stand-in for bowling (Lulu is a pro, and the first lady is getting close!)

Mark is adorable, of course. He is quickly recovering from a weekend invasion of 'ear bugs'. He is bright and cheerful and wanting to play and asking me for something every two fricking seconds. I am reminded of the few episodes of Super Nanny that I've seen, realizing that my attempts to ignore the child that I chose to have and that I have full responsibility for and who wants nothing more than my attention probably wouldn't look good during the DVD playback segment of the show. Frick it. Mommy wants to sit and have a glass of wine and you can get your own water. And make your own Play Doh horses. And leave your brother alone! Shite!

Kevin messed up the wireless router connection. This is something that I for sure would have done myself, but it only makes me marginally less irritated by it. I have that stupid mind thing that tells me that things must be clean and orderly before I can sit and concentrate on something. I am trying to get our home office--a desk with paper and pens--set up and, without knowing where the router is going to be, I can't complete that task. So I waste time. And it's all Kevin's fault. And his socks are really smelly. I mean they smell like urine-soaked cat litter and it lingers long after he has removed his feet from the wicked things. I did a half-load of laundry this morning because it was the only way to get the smell out of the house, and I swear that I can still smell it after laundering. (Guess who's walking around the house in his smelly socks right now?) I don't know. Kevin is awesome and good-looking and all that, and he's every bit as useful with a computer as I am. But he is smelly. Of that, there is no doubt.

So I really just want to be rid of them all for the evening. I want a functioning internet and peace so I can do a little bit of work, and then I want to read. I'm heading to an agritourism conference tomorrow at the Lake of the Ozarks. The lake is kinda like Dollywood, only with a big lake and more slack zoning regulations. It is not a place I would ever go, as I try to avoid overpriced boats filled with bathing-suit-clad drunks whose best days were officially over as of December 31, 1989 and who relive those glory days at the lake. On their boats. But I'm going alone and I will room alone and, for that, I am thankful.

I googled myself tonight. I do that occasionally to make sure that no one can link my name to this blog. One day, that connection is going to make a pretty good story in Hometown. I've been bumped to page 2. The social networking of various Lulus has filled google page 1. Yes, I am linked in, but you still can't find me on facebook or myspace and I'm probably not the old classmate you're thinking of because I'm a good girl and changed my name a few years after getting married.

I'm off to bed. My bed. I'm reading a Truman biography. Someone send me some reading suggestions!

Love,
Lulu

Wednesday.

I shouldn't be writing. There are several large projects looming. Have all of my readers moved on? Am I boring you to death? Sorry, loves!

Brief update. I'm still working out, usually 4-5 days a week. My fitness level is definitely up, the increase in energy has been amazing, and my stress level has dropped. Poundage? The exact same. My clothes don't fit much differently, either. Bummer, but I'm starting to crave exercise, my nerve issue in my leg (from a slightly off-kilter disc) has improved dramatically, and my new doctor says better fat and fit than thin and dormant.

Speaking of stress, the money front is sucking pretty hard. Kevin is busy at the shop but is still not bringing home a paycheck. Last month we went negative in both checking accounts and got a call from a banker who used to be a member of the Chamber board. Here I am, in charge of the Chamber budget, and I'm getting a call from a banker because I can't manage my money. Well, that's a little harsh--we fixed the negatives the same day, and it was a fluke that they both went negative that day. Still, embarrassing. And, oh yeah, stressful.

We don't live high on the hog. We don't have a Starbucks here. But there are things we have bought that, no, we don't need. Also, I figured out that Kevin's smoking habit costs us two of my 28 Chamber paychecks each year. I made sure Kevin knew about that. I bought him nicotine patches with a gift card we received for Christmas. He's giving it a go very soon.

Speaking of Christmas presents, we now have internet in our home! (Thanks Mom and Dave). My mother-in-law bought us a wireless router and Kevin mucked up the security key thing so we have to reinstall...but after tonight we should have internet in and around our house! I chose not to bundle and get cable--we are rethinking this whole money thing and cable still doesn't get it for us--but we got a coupon for a converter box and bought one (total cost = $5) and we're ready for the big switch! Exciting days, these.

I'll stop for now. I can write later--from home!

The down side of a small town.

I have written before about the local AM station in town that plays classic country (it isn't) and features a local morning show from 6-10 a.m. The last half hour of that show is called "Party Line" and local folks call in to wish people a happy birthday, try to sell old VCRs for $200, and occasionally go off on some issue of local import.

The beloved host of the morning show retired a couple of weeks ago after 37 1/2 years. He was replaced by another local guy who has been doing a decent job at keeping the morning hopping along.

BUT...the new guy has restructured Party Line a bit, too. Instead of keeping it loosey-goosey, with maybe the occasional suggestion of something to talk about like the last host did, he suggests a topic each morning.

That's not the bad part. The bad part is that he is not at all interested in hearing the community's views about that topic--unless those views exactly match his own. And he is using that microphone to make sure that you know those views, too. Those right-wing, stupid-argument-centered, conservative Christian views. Hoorah.

Yesterday as I was happily and productively working in my office, I suddenly heard this blurt from my radio:

"Today on Party Line we're going to be talking about that atheist creep in California who is trying to get 'so help me God' removed from the inaugural oath. Do you think it's OK for a radical minority to dictate to the rest of us? (Insert other righteous bullshit about God and Country here). I also want answers to the question 'Can America survive without God in it?' So please call in and voice your opinions."

Yeah. Right.

So the calls started coming in, with people saying dumb crap like "I'm not very smart about this issue, but I think that our country is in trouble because liberals try to take God out of our country and, you know, I went to the mall and there were people saying 'Merry Christmas' and I talked to these salesgirls and they told us that their manager was telling them to say 'Happy Holidays' instead of Merry Christmas and that's just wrong! Jesus is the reason for the season!"

And dumb stuff like, "You know, there is no such thing as an atheist cuz' if you sent 'em all to Baghdad and started shootin' at em' (ah, bliss!) they'd all start sayin' 'God get me outta here!' so there's no such thing as an atheist."

And the host would say dumb stuff like, (Chuckling) "That's so true! I like that, I like that a lot."

So I called.

And I said, "I'm wondering why it's appropriate to call someone a 'creep' for exercising his American right to voice his opinions about an issue that is very important to him and to many people. I read the articles about the lawsuit and it's obvious that he doesn't expect to win but that he does want to draw attention to this issue and that is exactly what he is doing. Also, I don't listen to right wing or left wing radio because I don't like the way people talk to or about each other on those shows and I would be really disappointed if this show, which represents people in a small town who do hold varied viewpoints and includes non-believers as well, became like those shows."

Or something like that. I kept it civil and mostly focused on the whole civility issue. I didn't give my name because, when it comes to belief, I have found that it's best to keep my lack thereof to myself. And that pressure to conform to the Christian norm is exactly why that creep in California keeps filing lawsuits about the intrusion of monotheism into government ceremonies. And, I tell ya, it turns my stomach.

A few minutes later, a woman calls in and agrees with the DJ--which, again, is the only opinion he's really interested in hearing, thanks for the fair and balanced show--and then says, "And that caller who said that you shouldn't have called that guy a creep? Well, you are just expressing your opinion just like she is and I'm sure that she has said things that aren't so nice in her life (uh, she got me there, dear reader! How does she know me so well?) so who is she to tell you that you can't express your opinion?"

Fair enough. Stupid, but she has her rights to say stupid things. But here's what the DJ said:

"I appreciate that. You know, I was thinking the same thing and I'm just glad that someone else said it for me."

And I said to myself "GOD! Get me out of here!"

That's when I really got pissed. And then sad. So sad, in fact, that my belly churned most of the day (though it could have been because I had to fast all day for a cholesterol test later in the afternoon) and even felt like crying a couple of times. I don't know why--people call radio shows and say stupid things every day. And it was no secret that the past host was a deep Christian, and that the local radio station allows local preachers to record a 'moment of inspiration' and follow it up with what is always a hideously bad song about faith. But I should have known that the tides were turning when that very morning's moment of inspiration was about how Christians NEED to support Isreal, that the other side offered nothing but terrorism and take take take, and--I'm sorry. Is that inspiration or politics? And if it's politics (it is), where the hell is the other side? Public airwaves, people.

I was upset because this is my radio station. I need Party Line to get the word out about the chamber and tourism. I advertise on that station ($300 month). I want that station to realize that small towns are like big families--you might not like everybody, but you live in close quarters and need to find ways to get along.

And I don't want to live in a town, and work my ass off for a town, that is full of people who would flat-out reject me because I don't believe in God. That is distressing. And not being able to say my name out of fear that people will stop buying monuments from us, or drop their chamber membership, or otherwise throw us to the lions. They don't think. They don't realize that atheists are right there under their noses, making monuments for their loved ones, creating economic opportunities for their town, putting up Christmas trees on their Courthouse lawn! I feel betrayed by their simmering anger and hatred. I have spent my whole life (outside of few really loud years in the late 80s) adjusting to the Christian majority, bowing my head at prayertime, not making a stink about them putting up Christmas trees on government property (oh yeah--that was Kevin and me doing that). And then they call in and start going off.

We're going to talk to the sales rep for that station. We really like her. She is the daughter-in-law of the owners. We're going to ask her if the station is really going to go in this direction. (Friday's Party Line was the most intense, but the whole week has had this inflammatory edge. Believe me--these people don't need any excuses to get all riled up about something.) And, if it is, we're going to stop advertising on it, to hell with the ramifications. We simply won't support a station that allows that kind of disrespectful dialog.

We're hoping the management tells him to shut the hell up.

So I’m not every woman.

This post was written in mid-December. I decided not to post it because most of my ire was extinguished from just writing it down. And it was pretty close to Christmas and, you know, baby Jesus probably wouldn't approve of my nastiness.

But it's a new year now and I am resolved to be the same person as last year (minus a few pounds and a radio flyer full of nasty debt), and I'm being hassled by my folks to post something already! So here goes...and happy new year! By the way, the idiots sure were out in full force in Times Square last night, huh? I mean, I just can't stand that sort of manufactured Good Time, full of Disney performers and commercials and ugh. Isn't New York supposed to be cool and cutting edge and full of culture and shit? All I see is advertisement light pollution and Miley Cyrus. Oh yeah--on to the post! Enjoy! : )

I am not one of those women who sends email prayers to ten people who make my day special. I am not a woman who receives one of these electronic turds, gets all choked up about it, and then spends 30 minutes writing a loooooong email reply to the sender, exclaiming how said prayer made me realize how lucky I was to have sender as a bff (big fuckin’ flake?) and how said prayer made my day because I was feeling pretty low (insert lengthy explanation as to why at this point). I am not a woman who writes that reply in some barely legible girl font, in hot pink, with a background that probably took most of the workday to design. I am not a woman who signs each and every email with

Have a great day!!!
Lulu Godkittenslover
Tourism Resource Specialist
“We don’t stop playing because we get old, we get old because we stop playing!!” Take that with you in your day and you will be a happier person for it! (Smiley face icon. Or two). God Bless!!! Lu

No, I am not that woman.

But the intern who works for me is. Instead of working, she crafts elaborate emails to each and every person she knows—a few of them are even work-related! And they are stupid. So stupid. Aggressively stupid. And if you had to actually try to get this woman to do work things for you without mucking everything up and vacillating wildly between manic and depression…and you know those girls you went to high school with who played a hair-band ballad for their first dance at their first wedding (and who get choked up at Kid Rock songs now. Kid Rock!) and wear WAY too much makeup and currently do hair? And you know that snottyass kinda stupid girl attitude that they emanate from time-to-time? Mmm-hmm, girlfriend. You know it. Well, if you were her boss, you’d grow to hate her, too.

I know this about her emails because 1. I’ve been on the receiving end of a few relatively short ones and 2. I sometimes need to use the computer in the tourism office and, yesterday, she not only left it on, she left herself logged in with her email right there on the screen—on a Friday afternoon before leaving (early of course—she had to renew her ten prescriptions) for the weekend!

Of course, I read some of her emails, er, rather, her letters to her buddies. So annoying and non-work related. And that’s when it hit me that I must blog about these women who share the goopiest sentiments over email in response to email-generated shite.

Yes, it’s true that I’ve never used office email, internet, or time for non-work related things. OK, it’s not true. But here’s the difference: With the exception of maybe a day or so every couple of months, I go in the office and get shit done. In fact, most days I work really hard—skipping lunch sort of hard. She doesn’t. She twits and fritters noisily over a to-do list for a fucking festival—not an important meeting, or a budget review, or a strategic plan. A festival to-do list with things like “make copies of ballots on green paper” and “pick up luminaries from workshop”. And she wants my job! Or for me to give her a job once her contract is finally—finally! hooray!—up in February.

So why am I writing all of this very late at night? Getting myself surprisingly worked up? Because I’m sitting here in bed with my laptop and I figured I should do something with it besides play Tetris. I wouldn’t be playing Tetris if it wasn’t for my mom, who downloaded Tetris and other games onto a memory stick for me, which is exactly like giving a big festive bottle of Bailey’s to a recovering alcoholic. Soon, I’ll have to delete these games from my computer lest I waste even more time.

Bottom line: She annoys me (the intern—not my mom). I’m not giving her a job recommendation let alone a job. You, dear reader, can send me the occasional email tidbit, just keep the prayers to a minimum. Better yet, don’t send it. I promise you I will not return it to the person who sent it to me and I really won’t send it to ten others.

God Bless!!! :-D