Sunday, June 26, 2011

Dear Kmart,

It's over. You've teased me with your blue light specials. Tempted me with soft Martha Stewart linens. Marked your books down to 25% and added a line of children's dance accoutrements to keep our relationship limping along. Instead of being warned by your mostly empty parking lot, I fell hard for the false promise of short checkout lines, only to discover a single cashier on duty and a line 6 customers deep.

Why Kmart? Why? Was I not disheartened enough with your lack of help, customer service and wonky-wheeled shopping carts? Did you have to add a survey to the electronic checkout? Mr. Bluelight wants to know if I would recommend Kmart to my friends? Highly likely, probably, maybe, probably not, no? You won't let me complete my purchase unless I answer? You've sealed your fate.

I can quit you Kmart. Luckily, I won't need a restraining order.

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Sweet Tea

Good sweet iced tea is created by steeping tea bags for at least five minutes, pouring the hot concentrate in a pitcher, adding sugar,and stirring to dissolve before filling the pitcher to the top with cold water. It is impossible to sweeten cold tea! No one wants grains of sugar suspended in their tea glass, which is exactly what happens when you add sugar once the tea is already cold.

It's brutally hot. The first day of summer on the calendar, but the 50th day according to the temperature gauge since early April. A nice cold glass of sweet tea, heavy on the ice, is THE way to cool off. We've been downing the tea by the pitcher.

Friday, June 17, 2011


Children and reason go together like chocolate and pickles or sharks and seals.

Why do I have to go to bed? Because it’s late! Because it’s past your bedtime! Because you’re cranky! Because I’m cranky!

Why does he get to go first? Because somebody had to do it and you can’t BOTH go first! Because it’s his turn!

Why can’t I wear the sparkly shoes to town? Because we’ll be doing lots of walking and they will hurt your feet. Because I they don’t stay on!

Why do I have to brush my teeth? So you don’t get a cavity! So no one has to smell your stinky breath! So your teeth don’t fall out!

Why do I have to brush my hair? Because it looks like rats nested in it! Because it’s rude to go out in public without bothering to comb your hair!

Why can’t I get in the pool by myself? Because you might drown! Because I can’t hear you if you get into trouble! Because it is the rule!

Why can’t I sit up front? Because it isn’t safe! Because it’s the law! Because you aren’t tall enough!

Why are you yelling? Why?! Why?!

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

Telemarketing FAIL

This morning I received a call from a telemarketer. The conversation went something like this:

Me: "Good morning. May I help you?"
Her: "Good morning, this is so-and-so from such-and-such marketing. Do you have an email address?"
Me: "Yes."
Her: "May I have it?"
Me: "No."
Her: Silence.
Me: (after a few seconds). Click.

Five seconds later the phone rings. I answer it with my customary cheerful "Good morning! May I help you?" She says: "You B*$&#!!! You are SO RUDE!" Hangs up. Then calls me back FIVE times. Each time I get no response to the standard greeting. Until I say, "If you keep calling I will contact the Federal Communications Commission to report you." She says: "Go ahead. GO AHEAD!" in a sing-song voice that I've only ever heard before in a school yard.

But she didn't call me back.

And she certainly isn't going to get my email address NOW! Sheesh.

Saturday, June 4, 2011

How long HAS it been?

So long I almost forgot my login/password!! Insert sad face. A picture of the kids in case you can't remember what they look like. J.T. is as tall as my chin now!

This also could have been titled: "Drowning, not waving!"

Every year, the transition period that is the last month of school and the beginning of Summer, sneaks up on me with all its busyness and running around. Dance recitals, year end productions, Honors Night, shifting from school schedules to break schedules, getting ready for vacations (or staycations in our case), purchasing and putting up the pool, the anniversary trip to Savannah (nicely organized by the darling Rob), graduations, airport drop-offs, watering instructions for Mrs. Gail's flowers (really... we should just rename it a botanical garden) while they were away, launching one of those boot camp workouts that has hour long workouts six days a week..... blergh! To-do list too long for hours in the day. As usual.

Mary sent LOVELY photographs and I'm just now getting around to posting about it. Loads of guilt over that. As you can imagine, or if you already own some of her work, you know that seeing those images on a screen and actually holding them in your hand are two very different things! I've picked this one to frame and put in my room upstairs. It is absolutely perfect for the quiet, peaceful ambiance I want to create in that space. The space I have yet to be able to utilize! Soon, I hope, soon. Maybe getting that photo framed will inspire me to fully claim the space and spend time in it. Alone!

Her creativity stuns me! The ability to just frame something and tweak it and instinctively KNOW that it is the shot you want. Did I mention stunning?

I'm off to have a bath, pour a glass of wine (Shhhhh! Don't tell workout guru that I'm cheating on the eating plan... like the bowl of ice cream I had at 4 p.m. didn't already break a rule or four) and watch "The King's Speech" with Rob. Hello Colin Firth!

The glass of wine has to be partaken of tonight you see. Abby informed me after watching the pool safety video that I can't swim in the pool because I drink. I rolled my eyes and told her that you shouldn't swim after having a drink, but having a drink doesn't mean you can't EVER go swimming! Rob laughed at me and told me that she'll probably tell all the kids that her Mom drinks. Which sounds awful doesn't it? "My Mom drinks." Instant mental picture of some bag lady knocking back shots out of a paper bag.

Too busy to even pop the cork, much less pour a glass OR drink it straight out of the paper bag!

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