The fat lady is singing

I have a reputation for not showing emotion..
But today is my last day at Heatcraft and it's all slamming down on me..

As I drove into work I thought "this is the last time I'll make this drive".
and so it goes.
This is the last time I'll sign onto this computer.
This is the last time I'll walk down this hall.
This is the last time I'll get a cup of coffee from this pot.
This is the last paycheck they're going to hand me.
This is the last time I'll pee in this bathroom.
I'm deleting personal stuff from my computer.
Sifting through ten years of emails I've saved.
Packing up ten years of crap that has accumulated in my desk.

I'm getting goodbye emails, and goodbye hugs from people I thought didn't even like me..
So little miss "never let 'em see you cry", has gone through a box of Kleenex..

And if one more person says "what's your plan?", I'm going to scream..
I don't have a plan.. Not even sorta.. I know I'm taking January to get my shit together..
Will I go back to school? Will I try to find a job that pays what this one does?
Will I go be just an LPN? Will I be willing to commute to Champaign?
Will I accept that I have to take a pay cut, and adjust my spending habits?
I have no answers to any of those questions..

This is what I know.. I'm gonna buy a treadmill and get my fat ass off the couch..
I'm gonna clean out my closet.. I'm gonna watch Oprah and Ellen..
I'm going to do some stuff with my mom..
And I'm going to purge Heatcraft from my system..

And then I'm gonna panic.. And hopefully that panic will set my on the right path for the rest of my life..

So this afternoon when I walk out of the Heatcraft door for the last time,
I'll look back and smile, and then I'll look forward to the next chapter in my life..
Whatever that may be.

I was over dressed at Wal-Mart

Well I went to Wal-Mart over the weekend..

It's always been one of my least favorite places to be..
It's crowded, people are rude, and their "roll back" prices, really don't seem all that "rolled back" to me..
I avoid it.. About the only time I go, is close to Christmas and if I need a new CD (Besides Chart, there is nowhere in Danville to buy CD's. And Chart isn't open when I'm not at work)..

So I chased a Xanax with a tequila shooter and headed out to Wally Martins..
I've made a decision.. I'm going to go out there once a week for the rest of my life, and I'll tell you why..

After getting through the first 5 minutes of initial shock, I started to feel really good about myself..
I mean REALLY good..
I'm willing to bet my self-esteem went up by like 150 points..

Where do these people come from??? Do I really live in the same town as them??
Who shops in their pajamas??? Don't get me wrong.. I LOVE my flannel jammies.. And when I'm at home, I live in them..
However.. I would not go shopping in them.. I wouldn't even run to the gas station in them..

And here's the thing.. These people are wearing jammies to Wal-Mart, that they bought at Wal-Mart..
How does security know the difference.. They could put a brand new pair of Jammie bottoms on in the store and just say "I wore them in".. And if that's the case, can I walk out with a TV and say "but I was watching it when I walked in"..

But if you watch.. Some of these girls flit around in their jammies like they're a Victoria's secret model..

Ladies... there is nothing sexy about flannel jammie bottoms that have Betty Boop on them.. Especially when your morning mascara is running down your face and your bed head is poking people in the eye..

I also saw a man in shorts, several people without teeth, a bunch of women wearing clothes that were about 4 sizes too small and a few husbands on leashes..

I always frowned at the people that were lighting a cigarette as the doors of hell were opening to let them out..
Now I get it..

Counting down the days

I'm a little sad today..
I was called to human resources to sign my "release" papers..
I'm down to 7 working days at a job I thought I would retire from..
But it's kind of like when a loved one dies..
When someone dies unexpectedly, it's much more difficult on that persons family..
I believe I watched my grandmother die for over a year.. She had emphysema.. And it was a slow miserable way to die.. When she finally passed, it was almost a relief.. We had watched her suffer for so long..
The ironic part is.. The day she died was the very day I started at Heatcraft.. I came to work at 7:30 that morning.. She died at like 8..
I think the past 10 months have been like that (a long slow death) here at Heatcraft..
When they first made the announcement, I was in denial.. I figured it was no big deal, and was just going to be a nice severance package for me to live on, while I take my time figuring out what direction I'm headed..
I didn't realize the affect every person here had on me..
Whether I like them or got along with them, or not.. I was affected by all of them.. It really was a family.. And with every family, some siblings get along better than others..
There are less than 10 of us left now.. And as each person left, a piece of me left with them..
(and a couple of them keep leaving and coming back, taking with them even more pieces of me)..
We all say we'll keep in touch.. And we all might, for a while.. But eventually we'll get wrapped up in our new lives and Heatcraft will be a distant memory..
A few years from now, we might pass an old Heatcraft "sibling" at the mall (if there still is a mall).. We might smile a little or nod.. But we'll be thinking to ourselves "they probably don't even remember me".. Or it may even be us thinking "I know him from somewhere.. but I can't remember where"..
Signing my papers this morning, finalized things for me.. And it's bitter sweet..
The last few months have taken a toll on me.. My friends and family would confirm that.. It's been a long slow death at Heatcraft.. High stress with no reward.. I'm exhausted and tearful at all times.. Every conversation I have, somehow turns to me being consumed with the shutdown and unemployment (sorry everyone)..
It will be sweet to finally let that go.. The relief part of a long suffering death..
Walking away from 10 years with my Heatcraft family, very bitter.. and very sad..
And to all you Heatcrafters reading, or lurking (see "a frog and her blog"), if you see me at the mall, say hi..
If I don't remember you, I'll pretend like I do.... ;)

PMS or the bus?

Why does PMS get such a bad wrap??

First of all..
GENTLEMEN..

PMS = Pre menstrual syndrome..
PRE.. DID YOU HEAR ME? PRE.. LATIN FOR BEFORE, PRIOR, AHEAD OF, the menstrual cycle..

I utilized PMS this week, and it felt good.. Because yes I am PMS'ing.. And yes, I'm a wicked horrible person for like 3 days.. And yes, I am aware of it.. And no, do not offer me a Midol because I will rip your head off..

I think I mentioned that Andrew blew up his car.. But I didn't mention that he got laid off.. So this means he sits at home all day doing nothing.. And like most 19 year olds, he gets bored..
Two or three times a week, he calls to borrow my car (that I've had less than a year)..

The car owner in me can't stand to get that phone call.. I HATE the idea of him driving my car..
With his history, he couldn't get a driver's license until a few months ago. So he's a new driver, with a proven record of bad judgment.. And even though it's used, it's my new car..

But the mom side of me feels bad for him being stuck at home.. I know what it feels like to be without a car, and it sucks.. With the ADHD, no job to provide him spending money, and no car to get him anywhere.. He has to be miserable.. It would break my heart to turn him down..

Then I got this idea.. If he doesn't ask to use the car, I don't have to turn him down, and there is no guilt..

So.. He called Tuesday and wanted the car for the afternoon..
Okay, fine, whatever.. That means I go pick him up on my lunch hour and he brings me back to work..

I was already annoyed that he was cutting into my lunch hour (in walks the PMS), and even more annoyed that he was going to drive my car and use my gas. And I had no idea what he was going to do.. He told me he needed to pick his friend Brad up, so he could help Andrew move furniture.. A lame excuse that I fell for..
There is just too much stress to argue with him right now..

On the way from his house to Heatcraft, I was sort of ripping his ass.. Telling him not to move the seat, not to do anything illegal in my car, wear a seat belt, don't use an entire tank of gas.. blah blah blah..

He came to pick me up at 4:35 (late) and he had Brad (we call him B-Rad) with him.. I got behind the wheel.. The seat was moved (laid back in "gangsta" fashion). And it smelled like they smoked a pack of cigarettes in the 2 mile drive.
Just a mom needing a reason to bitch, and a kid giving me one...
I mentioned the amount of miles he put on the car, and lack of gas in the tank.. Really stupid stuff to complain about.. But PMS over-ruled my senses of logic and compassion.

Then I got this idea.. It was completely intentional, I planned it..
I said "Mommy's PMS is in full swing, you might not want to piss me off".. I could hear B-Rad sink into the back seat.. But without missing a beat, Andrew says "Thanks for the warning.. I'll talk to you next week".

I think my plan would have worked.. My mistake was.. I chuckled when he said that.. He has a great sense of humor.. and he really does make me laugh..
Guess who called today to use my car... (sigh).

My mom fell off a mountain

Some things you need to know before I tell you this story..
1) my mother is a realtor.
2) my mother knows Stephanie Carneghi (towing company) socially.
3) my dad was hunting near Springfield.
4) my mother is listed in my phone as "ice" which is an acronym for 'in case of emergency'.

I had just gotten out of the shower late Saturday morning.. Put on my long, furry, warm robe and sat on the couch next to my daughter.. I was trying to figure out if I could get away with hibernating for the day, because it was cold as hell outside..

So my phone rings and is says it's "ice".. You'll see the irony in this later..
I answer it and the conversation goes something like this.
Me: Hello.
Ice: uh, hi.
Me: What's up.
Ice: I have a little problem.
Me: uh, okay? what?
Ice: I was taking my client to see a house in Indiana.. It's up a long winding hill.. And we slid off the road. Now we're hanging off the side of cliff.
Me: What?
Ice: (repeats herself)
Me: (I yelled at Scott that he was going to have to go help my mom)
Ice: uh no, one person isn't going to help. (then I start to hear the panic in her voice).
Me: What about a tow truck?
Ice: I don't know (more panic).
There was a little conversation about calling Stephanie Carneghi, but mom didn't have a number for her..
Ice: well he's (the client) out of the car.. But he says I need to stay in the car because he needs my weight to hold it.
Me: The car is falling off a cliff, and he told you to stay in it?
Ice: Yes. But it feels like it's moving.
Me: What?
Ice: it's moving. the car is moving. (big panic).
Me: Get out of the car mom.
Ice: I don't know what to do.
Me: if the car is moving, get out of the car.. I've got to get dressed and we'll be there with a tow truck..

Then the panic sets in at my house.. I'm trying to get dressed, look up numbers, and bark orders at Scott and Ryleigh. Ryleigh is freaking out "what's wrong with my grandma".. She must have asked 5 times before I actually heard her..

So I call Kevin's towing.. I've dealt with them before, I like them.. but they don't go to Indiana.

Then I call Carneghi's because, after all Stephanie Carneghi knows my mom..
The conversation went like this.
Him: Carneghi's.
Me: Is Stephanie available?
Him: Who?
Me: Stephanie CARNEGHI?
Him: (in a very shitty voice) She has nothing to do with this company..
Apparently Stephanie and Mr. Carneghi divorced and she owns Carpenter's now..
So I try to explain to this jack ass what is going on..
I've dealt with him before too, which is a complete post in itself.
He was such a jerk and wasn't understanding the seriousness of the situation..
So I said "ya know what, forget it" and hung up..

I called Carpenter's..
Him: Carpenter's.
Me: Is Stephanie available?
Him: No, but I can leave a message.
Me: No, but I need help..
And I start to tell him the story.. Apparently the battery on his phone went dead.. But then some lady picked it up and started taking the information that I had..
I gave her the address and she yelled it to the driver.. and asked him if he knew how to get there.. He did.
She asked if the car was drivable and I said "I don't know, it's hanging over a cliff".
Her: what? (she wasn't in on the first part of the conversation).
Me: It's hanging over a cliff.
Her: (with panic in her voice) repeats this to the driver.
I can hear him say "she needs to get out of the car".
Me: I already told her that. But I'm not sure, she could be over-reacting.
Her: (to the driver) she could be over reacting.

We wrap up the conversation and I continue to get ready..

My phone rings.. It's ice.
Me: I'm on my way, and I'm bringing a tow truck. Are you out of the car.
Her: no, he (the client) says there is no danger of it going over.
Me: Alright, I'll be there in a minute.

It's a 22 minute drive, and I'm thinking I can't get there fast enough..
And when I do get there, is my mother going to be smashed at the bottom of a hill.

But we finally get there.. This is what I saw..
The green Ford Expedition had slid off the road into a small trench on the drivers side..
You know, like the rut on the side of a dirt road.. About 5 feet from the actual drop off..

But the truck was so big and my mom is so not.. So from the passenger side all she knew, was the truck is leaning (a lot) and all she can see from her seat, is the bottom of the drop.. She couldn't tell how far they actually were from the edge..
By the time we got there, she was actually out of the truck, and we were all able to laugh..

It took the tow truck guy about 45 minutes to get the Expedition out..
From what I could tell, the guy had tried to get himself out and spun his tires, digging the truck deeper into the rut..

And just for the record.. It didn't even occur to me to blog about this..
Until my mom said "oh great, I can't wait to see what you write about this"..
So here it is mom.. Just for you..

Drama Drama Drama

I can't believe how much drama there can be in middle school.. Ryleigh goes to a very small private school.. She has literally been in the same class with the same 20 kids since pre-school.. A few have come and gone, but there is a core of 20 students that have been constant.. I pick her up every day and as soon as we walk out of the classroom, the chatter starts.. EVERY DAY..

The conversation always goes something like this:
Brittney (all names are altered because I can't spell most of the actual names) is mad at me because I sat with Susie at lunch.. But during science class Susie told Billy I wanted to go out with him, but I don't.. I like him as a friend though.. but even if I did want to go out with him, I can't. Because he went out with Jenny and she's my friend and friends don't go out with each others ex's..
And then I was crying in the bathroom because Nicky and Tiffany were making fun of me because my pants were too short.. But I don't think they are mom, they cover the tops of my shoes..
They're just in 8th grade and think they're so much cooler than everyone else.. But they're fake mom.. They were talking to Christy, who's kind of chubby, like they were her best friend.. And then when Christy walked away, I heard Tiffany say "she's so fat and nasty".. That's so mean, I would never do that to someone (yeah right).
I think I want to go out with Tommy.. I'm going to have Angie ask him for me.. He already went out with Tammy.. But that's okay because I don't like her anyway.. But here's the problem mom.. Mom? are you listening?.. There are 12 girls and 8 boys in my class.. So the boys I haven't already gone out with, have either gone out with one of my friends, or they're just too gross to go out with..

And she says all that before we ever get out of the building..

Now I've sat back and watched this since the school year started.. And I think I can define "going out"..
Going out when your a 6th grade girl, is define by the level of ignoring you do.. If you're going out with someone, you ignore them more than every other boy. You don't ever talk to them or make eye contact.. If you're standing in the hall talking to your friends, one of them will say "here he comes".. At that point you giggle loudly, say something like "he really said that?", and flip your hair without looking in his direction.
And when playing dodge ball in P.E., you hit the person you're going out with, harder than you hit any other person..
When it's time to break up, you always have a friend do it.. And usually you have them do it via text message or email..

Andrew played ice hockey for 6 years.. Your rhino glands haven't lived until they've smelled the aroma of sweaty hockey equipment, sitting in the trunk of a car for three days..

Back then I referred to it as "boy funk smell".. And on a good day, you could actually catch a whiff of it wafting from his bedroom.. I truly did not know such a smell existed.. And I firmly believed there could not be another smell worse than that..
I was wrong.

Last night I was sitting on the couch next to Ryleigh.. I kept smelling something that took me back to youth hockey days.. Boy funk smell..
It wasn't constant.. Just an occasional sniff.. I was too busy voting millionaires off of TV shows to think too much about it..

When I told her it was bed time, she gave me some grief.. She always does.. And I usually wrestle her to the floor, or tickle her until she can't stand it.. We have a Kodak moment, and off she goes..
Little different last night.. I got her to the floor and it hit me.. Like this brick wall slamming into me.. My eyes watered, my throat closed, I think my skin crawled..

I've known for a couple years now that she had stinky feet..
We talk about it, she has to keep her shoes away from me, she knows she has to scrub her piggies daily.. It's not something we were oblivious to.. She has stinky feet, I call them her "stinkies", she laughs about it.. This would be the "funk" in dysfunctional.

But last night.. OMG!!!!.. I'm pretty sure my beautiful 11 year old girly girl, had stopped at a pig farm on the way home.. And then waded through a field of rotten feta cheese just before she came into the house..
They smelled so bad, I covered my face..

And what did she do??? She took her socks off and smelled them.. SHE SMELLED HER PIG POOP, FETA SOCKS.. Yes ladies and gentlemen, I have a genius on my hands..

In our wrestling, she managed to get her stinkies all over my couch pillow (I think she did it on purpose.).. I kid you not, after she went to bed, I could still smell it on the pillow..

I would throw it in the incinerator (fire place).. But I'm afraid a mushroom cloud will appear above my house..

The cat is still alive.. Although I think she's trying to kill herself.. about 3 minutes after Ryleigh went to bed, Tessa had her head stuck in the shoe that Ryleigh had worn to the feta field..

Anybody have a foot funk smell remedy?

Reality bites

My mom would tell you that I watch too much TV.. And I probably do..
I have two types of shows I watch.
I'm not sure what to call the first type.. Drama I guess.. The stuff you have to figure out..
House - trying to figure what mysterious illness his patient has..
Horatio - trying to figure out why the pool boy was impaled..
Grissom - playing with doll houses that contain precarious positions of dead..
Bones - boiling skulls to find murder weapons..
You get the idea.

My other favorite is reality TV.. The competitive ones, that start out with like 16 people and they get whittled away to just two.. Then America gets to vote for their favorite, or whatever.. You know the kind.. The Mole, Biggest loser, The Next Food Network Star, Survivor, American Idol.

So last night on Fox, they're premiering a new show called The Secret Millionaire (and since it was in the regular time slot for Bones, I guess I had to watch).. Multimillionaires go live in poverty for a week (a whole week? I can't imagine).. They have to interact with people in poverty, without revealing their own social status.. At the end of the week (It's actually only 6 days), they have to give away at least $100,000.00 of their own money (I have to wonder if Fox is paying them to participate)..

Anyway.. There were two episodes on last night.. The first one was a sorta goofy looking lawyer that probably weighed about a buck ten.. He was tall and scrawny and wore high waters.. With him, was his over privileged 22 year old guitar playing, hippy wannabe son.. I was prepared to be disappointed.. I wasn't.. It was actually a really great show (except for all the crying. It was like an Oprah and Home Edition tear fest)..
The second episode was a rich southern couple.. He had started a chain of Raising Cain chicken restaurants, she sold her McDonalds franchise.. blah blah blah..
Now they're supposed to be undercover and appear to be down on their luck.. Yet they pulled up in a Suburban. And during the whole show, she had her Vera Wang sunglasses perched on top of her head, and the $125.00 manicure kept flashing across the screen.
He was good though.. In a battered hoodie, serious 5 o'clock shadow going on.. He was looking a little rough.. Although he stumbled a little when he was asked where he was from.. (He said Virginia, but surely they noticed the tags on the Suburban said Louisiana.)
It was sort of like it was his idea to play, and he just drug her unwilling ass along..
She just rubbed me the wrong way..
I realized I watched too much reality TV when I said "She just needs to get voted off"..
But I think I'll make that a new catch phrase.. Whenever somebody does something you don't like "just vote 'em off"..

trip to where?

Tryptophan break down.

Tryp - trip
to - to
P - pillow
H - have
A - A
N - nap

Actually Tryptophan is the amino acid found in turkey that according to legend, induces a "Turkey Coma" which is what I was in all weekend..
So thanks Mom for the great meal, and perfect day!!!!

Things you do when no one is looking

*Sing loud
*Have conversations with yourself
*Look at your ass in the mirror
*Pick your nose - oh shut up, you know sometimes it's unavoidable.
*Skip washing your hands after you pee
*Pee in the shower (then there is no excuse for not hand washing)
*Double dip (hopefully you didn't skip the handwashing before that)
*Drink from the milk jug
*Look in the car parked next to you to see if they're sloppy or neat

What else???

Pets are friends

Tessa is my cat.. I didn't get her as a small kitten and I'm not sure how old she is.. 12ish, I think..
In any case, I paid about $450.00 for her. And right now you're probably saying exactly what I would have said 12 years ago, "who the hell pays $450.00 for a cat?".. I do.. But not on purpose..
My ex-husband actually took me to the pet store because there was a dog there that he wanted.. I looked in the little glass room at a puppy named Bo.. Bo had the worst ever case of ADHD.. This dog was bouncing off the ceilings.. And since I was 8 months pregnant with Ryleigh, and dealing with an 8 year old son that had ADHD, I had no desire to take the hyper puppy home..
Then I heard it.. This faint little cry from the back room.. So I asked the clerk and she said it was a cat in the back office.. They were resistant, but I insisted on seeing her.. And there she sat in this little cat carrier.. Her little Siamese face staring at me.. At that moment, I knew she was going home with me..
Her price tag, $99.00.. I said "wrap her up".. I was told she was sick and had ear mites... "I don't care, wrap her up".. So they packaged her up with an antibiotic and ear drops..
I mentioned she was Siamese.. But she wasn't registered.. So my plan was to get her papered, breed her and make a ton of money selling kittens... HA..
It was probably 2 weeks before I delivered Ryleigh when it happened.. I was sleeping on the couch because I was so big and pregnant, I couldn't lay flat.. And I woke up to Tessa squirming.. I could actually see her stomach contracting, and then she would bleed out of her little kitty Vajayjay.. And on that fine Sunday afternoon, we rushed her to the kitty hospital, where she had an emergency kitty hysterectomy.. And $350.00 later, I've got a cat I can't breed..
I guess I didn't realize how attached I had gotten to her, until now..
She's sick.. I think she's dying actually.. And in the last 48 hours, I've spent a ton of money at the vet (right before Christmas, and the plant shut down).. I've brought her food to her on the couch, given her antibiotics that she hates, and last night administered fluids with an IV bag and needle (she didn't like that much)..
In the evenings I put her on my lap and she falls asleep (she doesn't have the strength to get down, but I suspect she would rather be left alone).. Every couple of minutes I tickle her ear to see if she's still alive.. Otherwise, I refuse to disturb her.. Last night I sat there having to pee for like an hour.. But I wasn't going to move her and risk waking her up..
It's funny.. I've taken it for granted that she was going to be around forever.. I'm devastated at the idea that I won't have to pick up hair balls, or roll the cat hair off my clothes every morning..
I guess I'm an ol' softy after all.
Who's your favorite pet?

Are you really going to eat that?

I just want to start by saying, it is impossible for me to be pregnant on SO many levels..
Although it would be a great excuse for my weight gain, I'm not..

Food combinations I've had in the last week..
Jell-O brand devil's food pudding cup and black olives.
Pickles and cheese (with a side of watermelon).
Chili and oyster dressing.
And I was eating potato salad the other night.. I can't remember what I was having with it (a donut or something stupid).. But my family was turning their noses up in disgust..

So what's your favorite weird food combination?

Oh Christmas tree

I was walking through Sears the day after Halloween..
THEY WERE PLAYING CHRISTMAS MUSIC..
Out loud I said "okay I'm not coming back until after Thanksgiving.. I can't take Christmas coming so soon.." Well come to find out, everywhere I went that day, they were playing Christmas music.. And I fretted all day about how "they" were rushing Christmas..
It's like they want to go straight from Halloween to Christmas and skip right over Thanksgiving.. Well I happen to love Thanksgiving.. And skipping it, just isn't an option.. Unless of course mom decides to not make noodles this year.. Then maybe we can talk about it..
Seriously, when I was growing up Christmas came AFTER Thanksgiving.. We put our decorations up the weekend AFTER Thanksgiving.. Most of the stores didn't put their Christmas stuff out until AFTER Thanksgiving..
I've noticed as an adult that the decorations and the Christmas sales are coming earlier and earlier every year..
BUT THE DAY AFTER HALLOWEEN???? It was just too much..
Don't get me wrong.. I love Christmas.. And I am mighty proud of both of my Christmas trees.. One is upside down (just because I think it's cool and my life was/is sort of upside down).

The other one has 5000 lights on it.. This is no exaggeration.. I can't lift it, it weighs too much.. And I swear when it's plugged in, the other lights in the house go dim from the energy it takes to light this thing.. (I'm attaching picture of the tree with most of the lights on it.. The picture is from two Christmas' ago.. I think I've added 3 or 4 super long strands since then..)
So I've been bragging to Scott about my perfect and very bright tree..

Last weekend I heard some banging around in the basement, and then some ruckus in the dining room.. He comes into the living room and says "wow".. I see the glow coming through the door.. He's brought my tree up for me..
At first I thought 'uh hello??? too early'.. And I was a little put off by the fact that I was going to have to look at it for a month longer than planned..

But he did drag it up for me.. So I couldn't really complain..
But now, I have it placed.. And I plug it in every night.. I get a warm fuzzy when I look at it (I also get blinded)..
I'm even thinking I'll get the rest of my Christmas decorations out this weekend..
Hey.. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em..

But mom, you're not off the hook for those noodles.

Doing it in Danville

At one point our city motto was "Do it in Danville".. My question is simple.. Do what in Danville?
Shop? Eat? Enjoy all of the many activities that are offered here?
I'd love to.. Just a couple issues first.. Look around man... It's a dying community.. And don't make that face like you're disgusted with me for saying that.. There is not one person in this town that hasn't thought it..
What activities?? Outside of my daughters occasional after school events, there isn't much for her to do..
She went to see a movie Friday night and when the movie was out, she was to wait inside the mall until her ride came to get her.. She has strict rules not to leave the mall until then.. It was after dark, and the crime rate is on the rise.. I also check the sex offender list on a daily basis.. Danville is definitely not short of child molesters.. A group of 4 kids inside the mall together seems a bit more safe than outside the mall.
She was told by Mall Security that without having a sack to prove she'd been shopping, she could not sit down in the mall.. Hello??? She paid for a movie and popcorn (was still holding the popcorn bag during this conversation).. That's a pretty significant purchase..
But not my point..
My point is, I would like nothing more than to keep my dollars local, by "doing it in Danville".. However, even if I can find something of interest here in town, I can't seem to get from point A to point B without going through the rest of the Alphabet first.. With one form or another of road construction going on in at least 5 places throughout town, everyone is forced to take alternate routes.. Generally the alternate routes are side streets and back roads that are only two lanes.. With the increased traffic taking these alternate routes, the two lane roads tend to get congested.. Add to this train traffic, and city wide road rage is off the chart.. I drive 5.5 miles to work every day.. Leave my house, taking side streets to avoid the 14 stop lights between my house and Ryleigh's school, drop her off, and take more side streets to avoid 6 more stop lights..
I cross 4 sets of train tracks and 2 school crossings.. My 5.5 mile commute takes no less than 30 minutes and has taken as much as 50..
The same holds true for any shopping or eating... Danville is running a little low on places to shop to start with.. And eating? I can't say there is anything special about the places you can find to eat in Danville.. It's all about convenience.. You can't get anything here, than you couldn't cook at home.. It's just sometimes easier to go out to eat.. Stop me if you think I'm wrong.. Oh yeah you can't stop me, it's my blog.. hehehe..
So here is my point.. with the increased congestion in traffic, the risk of being stopped by one or more trains, and the looping required to get somewhere that should be a direct shot, it's easier and quicker to hit I74 and head to Champaign.. I know if I go over there, I will be able to find whatever it is I'm shopping for, within a couple blocks of the I74 exit I choose to take.. And while I'm there, I can enjoy a meal consisting of something other than a burger or spaghetti..

Update on Andrew's car

He blew it up.. That's right, it now lives at the junk yard, waiting to be dismantled by someone who needs a spare part or two.. Although after seeing (and smelling) the garbage dump on wheels, I can't imagine any sane person wanting anything off of it..
According to him he put oil in it when he heard it "knocking".. What does that mean?? The car knocked on the hood and said "hey bud, little low on lubrication.. can ya hook me up?" Well it was just a little too late by then..
And he is without wheels..
Do I want to wring his little pea picking neck? You bet your ass I do..
But going through about 11 years of him doing things that I just couldn't wrap my brain around, I have learned to find humor in EVERYTHING.. Which will one day be the basis of my book "How to laugh at something that isn't funny"..
So what's funny about this??
For starters.. When the car died originally, Scott went to look at it.. He got it to start but it wouldn't stay running.. So he called Andrew and said "you're gonna have to put some gas it in it to make it go".. He had not only run it out of oil, but apparently gas too.. Picture if you will my thug of a son first walking to the police station in the rain, to call for a ride.. Then picture him carrying around my little 1 gallon gas can trying to get enough in his car to get him to the gas station where he put in $5.00.
When questioned about the oil, Andrew said "I put oil in it when I heard it knocking".. (kinda makes you shake your head, doesn't it?) That's impossible.. Shortly after Andrew took possession of the car, he tore the exhaust off of it.. You could here him coming 3 blocks away.. The stereo in it was so loud that my next door neighbor brought her newborn over at 10:30pm and asked that Andrew please turn it down prior to arrival because it had woken the baby up more than once.. I wasn't sure I understood this, because clearly the exhaust was louder than the stereo.. Once again my son said something that proves his genius "Tell her to close her windows"..
The driver side window motor went out.. So it's not like he could roll the window down and hear any pinging, or knocking or even an actual explosion..
My guess is, the car croaked.. Not immediately, but at some point after, a light went on in his head that said "wonder if it needs oil".. He admitted to me earlier that right after it died the first time, he put 4 quarts in it..
As I said, Scott got it running.. But the motor and transmission were pretty well gone and the car wouldn't go more than 15 mph (hey.. we should have sold it to the blue/gray hair lady from Senior Citizen Tuesday)..
So while I was at work Saturday, Scott (with Ryleigh in tow) followed Andrew in the speed machine to the junk yard.. According to Ryleigh while they were on their way, the car "popped" and white smoke came pouring out of it.. Call it dead, and play Taps for it..
So you see, the fact that Andrew had to junk the first car he's ever owned - Not so funny.. The events surrounding it, sound like a bad Laurel and Hardy show..

Irony at it's best.

As I mentioned in my profile, my son is a recovering juvenile delinquent.. What I mean by that is, we had several years of struggles and bad choices.. But at 19, he's living with his girlfriend, holding down a job, and paying his own bills (with an occasional supplement from the bank of mom).
He's doing much better now than I'd expected.. But with most 19 year olds, as much as they'd like to think they have, they haven't figured everything out.. He's no exception. And sometimes he'll say something that reminds me of how it was..

Trust me when I say, we are familiar with the police station.. We've been there on some not so pleasant occasions..
As a matter of fact, he knows many of the officers by first name because he was such a frequent flyer there.. If we're in public and see some of them, they'll say "Hey Andrew, how's it going".. We are not strangers to the "system"..
So this morning when I received a call from the PSB (Public Safety Building), all I could think was "here we go again" (with all recovering people, relapse is a constant risk)..
I was wrong.. My son's car broke down about two blocks from the station.. Not having a cell phone and not knowing anyone in the area, he had no choice but to walk to the station and use their phone to call for a ride..
When I hung up after talking to him, I chuckled to myself.. It was like he'd gone to an old friends house to use the phone..
It's ironic to me that the place he hated most a year ago, is the place he had to go for help..
This isn't the first time I've been wrong.. Two years ago my phone rang.. Caller ID said it was the Danville Police Department.. The conversation when like this:
Me: Hello (annoyed that I was going to have to pick him up again)
Her: Is this Kerri Rollins?
Me: Yes (in a voice that said I was about ready to rip someone's head off)
Her: This is so-and-so from the Danville Police Department.
Me: What the hell has he done now?
Her: excuse me?
Me: (spitting fire at this poor woman) You've got my kid, what did he do?
Her: Uh, I'm calling with the Police Benevolent Association looking for your support..
Me: Oh, no thanks.

Green means go

Am I the only one that knows there are stop light sensors in the road?
People that stop at a red light, 6 car lengths back from the light, drive me nuts.. I realize that not every stop light in Danville has underground sensors.. But a big majority of them do..
What does this mean? It means that if you stop your car on top of this thing, it sends a signal to the traffic light that says "hey traffic light, change colors".. If you stop your car before it's on top of this high tech mechanism, the traffic light never knows you're there.. Nor does it know know the 20 cars behind you are there.

trivial trivia

Anyone that has talked to me lately knows I'm just a little stressed about work (or not working as the case may be).. I work at Heatcraft and it's closing.. I only have 6 weeks left of steady income, and I'm a little freaked out about it..
I didn't realize how edgy I really was until this morning..
I'm a huge fan of the show House.. A true die-hard fan.. We're talking, if someone asks me to do something on a Tuesday evening I say "okay as long as I'm home in time for House"..
The local radio station (D102) has been doing House trivia for the last two weeks.. They ask a question and if you're caller number 10 with the correct answer you win for the day.. The prize is a House backpack, T-shirt, and season 4 on DVD.. If you win for the day, you go into a drawing for the grand prize to be given away tomorrow.. Grand prize is a House inspired leather jacket, helmet, and Pocket Rocket motorcycle..
Every day for two weeks, I've known the answers.. I can never get past caller number 4.. So today they get ready to ask the question.. I get my finger positioned on the redial button of my phone.. TommyB reads the question (it's in finish the sentence form).
House says "What am I supposed to do.................." He even listed three possible endings to that sentence..
I watched the show and took notes last night to prepare for this moment.. I didn't know the answer..
I called anyway.. TommyB says "caller number three, thank you" and hangs up.. I hit redial again and it rings several times then I hear "Hi who's this".. Which is TommyB's way of saying you're caller 10..
I panicked.. I NEVER PANIC - EVER (remember the mouse/pants incident? no panic). But today, I hung up the phone.. I DIDN'T EVEN TRY TO GUESS.. I HUNG UP THE PHONE...
This was like the straw that broke the camels back.. And here I sit surrounded by the emptiness of a closing plant, and I'm in tears because I hung up on TommyB.

Old folks, change diggers and lunch hours..

I get an hour for lunch, and it's a precious thing..
Usually I don't take the whole hour.. But I ALWAYS manage to accomplish something during that time.. Today's goal was to go to the credit union and make my car payment (forgot it was Veteran's Day), and go to the dollar store to get toilet paper..
Apparently I did not get the memo stating it was senior citizen Tuesday..
I got behind a white Buick of some kind.. Not sure of the model, but I can tell you the license plate number because I stared at it for what seemed like days, at the warp speed of 15 miles an hour, driving up Bowman Ave.. For those of you that don't know, Bowman goes from 30 to 55 in about a 2-3 mile span.. But we never wavered from 15 MPH.. She must have been going to Wal-Mart (never try that on lunch), because I passed her in the turning lane at Liberty.. I think it was a her.. I could only see her blue/silver hair reflecting off the window..
What's the spyglass thingy on submarines.. She had to have had one of those, because there was no way she could see over the dash.. It felt good to go slightly above the speed limit on Liberty lane..
So, I get to the dollar store at 12:05. Lunch is over at 12:30. I breeze through.. Got something to snack on, a Charmin 9 pack and head to the register.. I'm third in line - crap.. The first guy was pretty quick.. Paid in cash, took his change and his sack and left.. The next lady, not so much..
Her total was $9.55 and apparently she had the day off.. Because as soon as the cashier said her total, she leaned back past me saying "wait I forgot" and she grabbed a snicker bar (she really could have gone without it I think).. Cashier rings it up, new total is $10.53.. That's 53 cents more than the ten dollar bill she was planning to cover it with.. The digging began..
Pockets first.. Pants and coat (I love winter).. She jingled a little bit. But not quite enough, because then she went fishing through her purse, I thought for the rest of the change.. I was wrong.. The fishing produced a hot pink coin purse.. Then she started digging through that with one finger.. I see her lay a quarter and 2 pennies on the counter.. And back to the coin purse she went.. Another quarter was laid down, and now I know we're digging for nothing more than a single penny.. The cashier (God love her) says "here ya go, I got a penny" and collects the $10.52 from the counter.. She undoubtedly noticed the frustration and despair on my face.. I almost told her to put that penny on my debit card..
So I think a new law should go into affect.. "Kerri's Law". Which states that if you are retired, unemployed or on vacation, you may not drive, shop or bank between the high traffic hours of 11am and 1pm and also between 4:30 and 5:30pm.

Naming a blog

Okay this is just uncomfortable.. Everyone is blogging, I read about 5 different blogs every morning, I hear about blogging, you can't do an internet search without some blogspot hits popping up, there are millions of blogs in cyberspace and I want one to call my own. Everyone is coming up with these really cool, reflective names for their blog site.. And I'm staring into space thinking "uh 'kerri's blog' doesn't seem very original"..
I'd kind of like to steal Janice Landi's title 'a Frog and her Blog'.. But the blog Nazi said it was already in use..
So it was Bloggin' for Apples or Mud Bloggin'... I settled.. And here we are bloggin' for Apples..

I'm hoping to keep up with this.. I'm really worried I'll have trouble coming up with stuff to write about.. I also have a little ADD issue.. Just in the time it took to write this, I've had 4 bazzillion other random thoughts go through my head.. Like does anyone else subconsciously type phonetically? Instead of "did you hear about the parade of lights?", I typed "did you here about the parade of lights?" I do this frequently in work email.. Then a person will reply, I'll go back and read what I sent originally and think "great, I look like an idiot". Why did this pop into my brain? I've done it about 28 times just typing this post..
Look for wrong words or left out words in all my posts.. It's bound to happen..

Until then, would you like to blog for red or green apples.