13 for Thursday

I saw this idea on another blog. . . and frankly I need some help being more regular. Consider this the bloggy version of Fiber all. And we will see if I make it all the way through the alphabet. Happy Thursday!

Thirteen for the letter "A'

1. Archery- I did not master this in junior high gym class. In fact, I may still have some wayward arrows near the ceiling of that building.
2. Avocados- I used to hate these. Now I don't. I love to experiment with different types of guacamole.
3. Angels- I believe in them. Not IN them, but that they are real. Bible says so.
4. Ambidextrous- Slightly. I'm a left-handed forced to be right-handed for scissors, can opening and various other afflictions.
5. Angel food cake- with strawberries. In the summer.
6. Abercrombie & Fitch (see how I got to this from "in the summer...in the summer" above? No??)- Don't wear it. Highly controversial. We did decorate our dorm room with the "soccer men" bags of 1997.
7. Apathy- sometimes I feel this. Usually after too many oreos.
8. Apples- sometimes I love them. Sometimes I don't.
9. Ambrosia- technically, I don't know if I've ever had this. But in my mind I hate it because I have placed it in the same category as meringue.
10. Aggie's- I come from a long line of them. Gig em'.
11. Attitude- me? No!
12. Adventure's In Babysitting- great movie!
13. Alicia- my baby brat sister who makes me laugh A.lot.

Tune in next week for even more Big Bad B...b...oh this was a great idea...

Movie Madness

I saw this site http://www.xtranormal.com on another blog.
I tried it.
I loved it.
I laughed my head off.

God told me to buy new underwear

Sometimes God speaks loudly. Sometimes he whispers. Sometimes he uses signs. Sometimes he speaks by not speaking. Man, I hate those times!
Last Saturday I did some flea marketing with a good friend of mine. At one of our last stops, I found a brand new treadmill for only $150. It was a good brand too. And by "good brand" I mean it looked (un-assembled) like it was sturdy and long lasting and would hold clothes and hangers and boxes really well. I had a dilemma. Now is not really the time to spend the money on a tread mill, even for such a great deal. So, I told the lady that I would think about it and maybe stop by this week. I should get points for this, if you're keeping track.
Also on my list of important topics: should I buy new underwear or just keep praying that I don't get in an car accident or some other catastrophe that gives the greater area medical community the opportunity to view evidence of my thriftiness? My answer on this was no, I have some perfectly good underwear that would be more comfortable if I met more often with the treadmill than the Braum's peanut butter cup ice cream (amen).
Today I stopped by the thrift store after work. The treadmill was gone. I wasn't even disappointed. I immediately calculated how much underwear $150 would buy. Too much, for sure, but rest assured, this Easter I will be holy in spirit only.

Tasty Tuesday

Today I was going to make what my sister-in-law calls "White Trash Mix." Actually, it's what a lot of the Internet calls it too. We are having another fundraiser bake sale at work and it seemed much easier to melt some almond bark over random cereals, nuts, and candies.
(Please note, for work, I was planning on calling it bunny food or some other dumb theme related name. I took our culture-shaping workshop, I know better than to say "White Trash" . . .at work anyway)

I measured the ingredients into a gallon-sized Walmart zip lock bag. The zipper end worked. The other end did, in fact, not.

Dear Walmart, I would like my money back. For the bag. For the 4 kinds of cereal. For the peanuts, M&M's, and butterscotch chips. For the 25 minutes it took me to find my dustpan. You can keep the money for the pretzels.

Sincerely,

Soon and very soon

It's April, but it feels like January on the Tundra. Still, as I drive around town, I see my favorite spots. There's the produce stand on Glenstone, the Commercials Street Farmer's Market, the F.M. at the mall, the farm in the middle of town. . . well those are pretty much my favorites. It makes me eager for spring to really arrive. So it's warm enough to leave the windows open at home or down in the car. When cooking is about creativity and not energy conservation. It's the time of year I am most able to convince myself that I could start a garden. I don't ever fully convince myself, but this is the time of year I can kind of think that maybe it might actually (and magically) happen.
However, when snow is in the forecast and you had to bundle up for some spring yard sale-ing, it's hard to believe any of it will happen. That's why I am clicking my flip-flops three times "there's no place like spring. . ."

Mom, whatever you do, do NOT read this post!

Just a couple weeks ago, I wrote about finding stability this past year and feeling at home in my apartment. Even at that time, I knew I was already thinking about moving. I didn't want to jump to a decision for the wrong reasons, but I did have a few valid reasons for relocating. I gave it some thought and was still not decided.
I do love the downtown area, the character of the buildings, the busyness of things. I realized that in the past a majority of my adult life I have purposefully lived in older, more urban areas. I have seen and even lived in some very charming places.
That said, there were two issues that swayed me to moving out of this "big" city-like town and to another nearby town. I refuse to call it a suburb. I refuse. Anyway, a few weeks ago, a long-standing "issue" with a neighbor came to a screeching halt. There is an older man, mostly drunk, who has a sweet dog, Suzie. I have fed and watered Suzie when her owner was too drunk to put her inside, out of the blazing sun. I have kept Murphy in when he'd rather be on a walk b/c she agitates him to the point of snarling. I have led her back home to her chain when she's broken free. I have stood face to face with her owner, acknowledging that I did call the police/animal control when she was running into rush hour traffic, and I responded to his threats to slash my tires by informing him that I knew about 23 different area police officers. No, I will not track him down to confess my lie. And when he's not angry drunk he's disgusting drunk. About two or three weeks ago he knocked on my door. He started out talking about Suzie, and then offered me his. . . . well, his services. I never would have let him inside my house, but the fact that I stood in my doorway with him on my porch disturbed me enough that it took me 30 minutes to leave my house after that.
ANYWAY (apparently I needed the therapeutic release of typing all that). That led me to desire a more. . . peaceful location. So I have looked and compared and second-guessed and budget-checked and am sure I will be moving (at the end of the month woohoooo), and kinda almost fairly certain-ish that I know where to.
Then, tonight, as I was putting my laundry away (and by "away" I mean the basket is in my room instead of the living room), I saw him. My old nemesis. Not drunkie, but something worse.

He's here to talk about his family.
I killed them with much pleasure on a fairly regular basis last spring.
I will not miss him. Even though I missed him with my shoe.

I did, however, spray some of this junk in the general direction where he fell. That was after I spent 10 minutes searching for this can. So he may have crept away. To tell his friends.
Oh yeah, and just because the can says "botanical" don't mean it still don't stank.

So, thanks for bearing with me through Spiderpalooza 2009. Come back tomorrow and I will show you some super cute squishy baby pictures.