Car Dead. Pray for a Quickly-Located Cheap Reliable Replacement

Well, unless I want to spend a few thousand on a new engine, the car is history.

So this is me putting feelers out for a somewhat reliable and cheap used car.

E-mail me!

Prayer Request of a Different Sort

My car made some REALLY frightening noises as I was going to work Saturday, so I pulled off the highway and had it towed.

Whatever you pray to, I'd appreciate you trying this one: "Please let Mark's car, which he depends upon for his near-financial-stability, not be dead. Also, if the repair bill could be under $1000 (or, really, under $500... or, even better, about $20), that would be good."

Thank you.

It's MAY! (Well, it is on my website, finally...)

Okay, I've gotten my website update to May...

June will be up in a week or so, pending my coming up with a laffline for June.

I've added two links to the top of my home page. The square picture (which is taken from a picture on my photoblog) on the left near the top (under some words, however) provides a link to my photoblog. The square picture on the right (also taken from a picture on my photoblog) of a pink ribbon pin provides a link to my sister's and her walking partner's newsletter, "Kathy & Ruth Talk the Walk". I had the idea of putting it on my website (pending Ruth telling me to take it down) because I thought it would be a way for people who aren't on the mailing list to access it.

Also, this month's issue has a picture of my elbow in it. Well, my elbow is in a picture that is actually of something other than my elbow. But you get the idea.

Anyway, I wanted to pass that one. So click the link to get to the link to read the newsletter.

And comment, people! Comment!

The Great Booty Hunt Of 2007

So I was at this End Of The School Year (Sort Of) Party on Friday night, and amid the strange events that transpired there, I also stumbled across this stuff I'd seen at some grocery store or another, but never thought to buy, called "Booty". "Pirate's Booty", to be exact. Well, that and "Vegi Booty", which also had the pirate on the front.

Anyway, I tried it, and really enjoyed it, particularly the Vegi Booty.

However, I couldn't remember where I had seen it before, so I couldn't buy some of my very own.

So, the recurring real-life character of Ashley got to hear me respond to his, "Did you find everything you needed?" with "Do you sell Booty?".

More than one grocery store employee in the Kansas City area was greeted with "I'm looking for Booty," over the past week.

But the search is over! It's at the grocery store I normally go to, which I was slow to stop by, thanks to that stupid construction on Soutwest Trafficway.

Hooray!

On Grace

With so many of you clamoring to hear the details of my thoughts on Grace, how could I refuse to share?

However, you're just gonna get the Cliff's Notes version, as I don't remember the vast details of my original thoughts/rant.

The major thing was I remembered how I'd hear the part of Christian beliefs that sorta starts with the notion that we're not worthy and how that would make me so angry.

"Uh!" I'd say in a huff, "How dare they assume we just automatically are crap!"

Now, what with many years behind me, I can say, "Oh yeah, right on. No contest."

I mean, seriously, have you met any humans? And I mean no offense to any human who might be reading this.

We are seriously crapoliciousness.

Anyway, that was the bulk of my thoughts on Grace. There was a quote from Season 2 of BtVS that I was gonna throw in there, but I've no time for that right now, as I should be in bed and still want to post something else tonight.

The end.

I Don't Know If Things Are Looking Up, But I Keep Looking Up

So I have this new response I keep wanting to try out when people ask me how I'm doing. Here's the script.

Person: How are you doing?

Me: Oh, I'm doing GREAT!

Person: Really? That's--

Me: No, not really. It's this new thing I'm trying, called "Fake It 'Til You Make It". It essentially involves lying repeatedly until death.

Mainly because I think it's funny.

Things are looking up. But have I posted here how I seem to be obsessed with phtographing clouds? Seriously, you should see my cloud photo collection.

In other news: Got my site updated FOR APRIL! I hope to have it updated for May by, oh... the 25th or so. Go check it out. The laffline this month is about Jesus.

I had some thoughts about grace the other day. Not the one you say at a meal, but the one that taught my soul to something-or-other in the song "Amazing Grace". I'm not going to put them here just yet, if ever. The moment may have passed.

Mom-O-Grams went well. Either my voice is awful and makes people cry or people tend to get moist in the eyes when being sung to one-on-one. It was fun. If it happens again, I hope more people get them. Everyone who got one seemed to really appreciate it.

Let's see... went to Atchison for a weekend. Didn't go ghost-hunting, though.

I had a rant about a certain type of parent, and I was gonna share, but, again, the moment has passed.

I just wanted you people to know what you're missing by my being so busy.

This is what a non-blog should be all about. That and the hokey-pokey.

I Write The Songs

I met with Ruth this evening and we recorded 9 little ditties for her Mom-O-Gram fundraiser for her Breast Cancer 3-Day Walk. The video footage is great, as I had only rough ideas when I left the school at 4:50 or so, and only added the e-mail she'd sent me after our brainstorming meeting where we figured out what tunes to put with the different categories of Singling Telegrams (Working Mom, Soccer Mom, Mr. Mom, etc.) when I stopped by my house to find something halfway suitable to wear for the video shoot (I went with the 1980s Student Council Guy look, as my tux was in no way ready to wear). It's not TOO obvious that the songs aren't super-familiar to me.

I left my house around 5:15 or so, and on the 45 minutes (or was it an hour) trip, I managed to create five or six songs. Luckily traffic was awful, so I had plenty of time to quickly write a line before traffic moved again.

Then, at Ruth's, I whipped up the remaining three or four songs.

Ruth's reaction to me doing this leads me to believe this isn't something large amounts of people do--or maybe enough people don't do it well and thus it seems impressive when someone does it at least relatively well.

I am cursed or blessed with a rhyming and somewhat rhythmic-oriented brain. I can't hear a "doo dah" without proclaiming it to be a "doo dah" and then singing it to the tune of the opening of Camptown Races. Maybe that's what it is.

I don't know. It's odd. And as far as gifts go, what's the point? I mean, other than writing Mom-O-Gram ditties for your sister's fundraiser.

Anyway, that was my evening. I got a free meal out of it (thanks, Ruth--forgot to say that before I left), and now we have funny footage of me acting like going all mushmouth over whole phrases will work as a way to cover the fact I've forgotten the words.

I'm off to bed to watch Lost, and then try to sleep. Tomorrow I cook for TNT!

Thoughts While Babysitting

I really need to get on here more often, as I've missed the window for a few posts, least of which being my yearly rant about "Take Your Child Out Of School Day". I won't re-hash. Just look up last year's rant.

Tonight I'm babysitting the girls. I should come up with another nickname, as "the boys", "the girls", and "the kids" doesn't work any more ("the boys" are outside my circle of folks I see regularly). Ah, it's good to be reminded that you're on the outs with someone.

Anyway, I'm babysitting the girls tonight, because Ben & Tricia are at some get-gussied-up function of some sort. I was sitting on Livy's bed watching the two of them brush their teeth and generally prepare for bed when my over-active imagination imagined them about twelve years from now, standing side by side in front of those dual sinks putting on their make-up for the prom.

Then I imagined that I was talking with them then, as I was as this imagination-fest was going on, and in the imagination-fest I was telling them that I was remembering this random night, so many years ago, when they were both so small and precocious, where they were happily brushing their teeth and telling me all sorts of wild tales about how sometimes they're allowed to do the teeth-brushing routine in reverse order, and so on... and as I re-read this run-on sentence, I realize you might need a road map. Take a moment. Draw one if you need one.

Then the Hallmark moment was over, and I remembered that Jordan is only 12, and I know I've forgotten moments where I sat watching her when she was this age or younger, thinking, "I'll remember this when she's older, and blah blah blah." By the time Jordan is 17 or 18, I'm bound to remember even less.

And then, of course, as is my way these past few years, the newer part of me steps in to clear his throat and say, "As if you're going to live to see their Junior/Senior Prom Night, dufus."

Well, he has a point. I'm not the healthiest man alive. Not even on the top gazillion list, methinks.

(And I get that charlie-horse feeling in my leg as I type this, as if to back it up the sentiment--no worries, folks who know the significance of that... I've had this feeling often, and I'm fairly sure it's just a small charlie horse.)

So, shaken from my moment, but still conversing with the girls as if this whole other world didn't exist in my brain for however-many seconds, I realize that if I'm here, maybe I'll remember this night if there's a blog entry about it.

And here it is.

Nature Abhors A Vacuum

Yeah, I haven't posted for a while. It seems that when you try to free up some time because your "real job" work is suffering from your "support your real job" job hours, things rush in to take up that free time.

And that's okay... except I want to sleep all the time.

Let's see... since "Surprise!", lots has happened...

For instance, I've started rehearsals for the next show. I'm thinking I might audition for a solo part, but we shall see what my throat thinks about that.

The next time I went to that pharmacy to get... I don't remember what now... probably some sleep aid or another--anyway, the next time I went there, that male Ashley was working, so I just asked if his mother was a big "Gone With the Wind" fan or what. Turns out Grandma was. Apparently I was the first person in his life to ever get that connection--which says a lot about my age, as I don't know that they run "Gone With the Wind" yearly like they did when I was a kid. (That and "Wizard of Oz" got played on broadcast stations yearly--remember that?)

We gave the MAP test at school. I have things to share about that, but I want to wait until the we're out of the testing window before I do--I think it ends this week.

I joined a church--but those of you who got the e-vite already knew that. I was sorta crazy-nervous, and I didn't expect the awesome feeling one gets when staring at a congregation of people that is welcoming you. It was more than I'd expected, all around.

Kurt Vonnegut died. I'll have to prepare a special post about that sometime when I have the time to really get into it. I've re-read "Timequake", and last night I picked up "Galapagos" just to move it, but ended up starting re-reading it.

I really love his writing.

Then there was the shootings in Virginia... but I don't know much about it. I figure it isn't news until they somehow tie it to Anna Nicole.

But, kvetching about what passes for news aside, I don't have a lot of reaction about it. I think my crazy brain deals with things by noticing strangeness.

Most of which I won't delve into here and now.

And beneath it all there's the knowledge that there are over 30 families somewhere in the world dealing with a whole lot.

Also, I got my taxes mailed off on time.

Sorry, couldn't end on the somberness.

Surprise!

I knew Ben & Tricia had to switch their tickets to the Saturday evening performance, but I forgot to ask if they were sitting in the same spot.

I didn't see them in their regular spot, so I assumed they were somewhere that was else--but still in the theatre.

As the evening wore on, I became convinced they weren't there, based on no hard evidence but my inabilitiy to spot them in a huge theatre.

Afterwards, I waited for them out front, and got far fewer "why didn't you have a solo" comments from passers-by than my ego would have liked (but my ego is an insatiable critter, so no amount would have been enough), and eventually decided they weren't there for real. I even checked my voice mail at home, in case there was a "We aren't there, in case you're wondering" message.

I went inside, and some person I don't know Pilsbury Dough Boyed me to get my attention, because Patrick and Alice asked him to.

Surprise! Patrick and Alice used Ben and Tricia's tickets, because Ben and Tricia needed to be somewhere that was else--the outside the theatre variety.

So hooray! Alice hadn't been to that theatre since she went to see a burlesque show there in 1971. She enjoyed herself immensely.

I mean last night, not in 1971.

Then we went to Ruby Tuesday and had a late dinner (I'm not about eating the afternoon before a show, and as my binge the night before meant I didn't wake up until Saturday afternoon, I didn't eat all day).

And now here I am writing blog entries while I wait for laundry to finish up.

Mega-exciting life.

However, Spring Break (which was this past week) has allowed me to make sure the Simply Sleep is non-addictive, and allowed me ot get 10- and 12-hour nights of sleep. Okay, early-morning-to-mid-afternoons sleep.

Monday begins the "downhill slide" to the end of the year. Two weeks, MAP tests, then the end of the year officially begins.

Hooray!

Ashley

Last night (meaning Friday night) at P.J., Jin asked me how to spell "Ashley". With his accent, both I and a co-worker thought he said "actually".

He said, "No, the name, 'Ashley'."

I laughed, because I'm a teacher, and you can ask any teacher how to spell the name "Ashley" and they'll let you know there's more than three ways to spell it--if not more than ten ways to spell it.

So Jin said, "For a man, how do you spell it?"

And then a discussion on whether or not a man can be named "Ashley" ensued, where I pointed out one of the main characters in Gone With the Wind was named "Ashley", and he was a guy.

Then, after I got off work tonight/this morning, I stopped by a nearby pharmacy to get stuff for this stupid toothache issue which is the new light of my life, and after spending forever looking for what I needed and getting a few other things I forgot I needed, I went to the register.

And who should show up there to ring me up but a guy named "Ashley".

Of course, I had to channel Patsy.

"Ashley, huh? Did you order pizza yesterday?" I asked. Unfortunately I have no children to be mortified by my behavior (and I wouldn't have had them with me out shopping at 12:50 in the morning even if I did have them), so it was not a true Patsy moment (not that she'd have her kids out shopping at 12:50 in the morning, either).

Of course, he looked kinda surprised, but admitted he did, in fact, order pizza yesterday. I gave an even shorter version of the conversation at work the day before in explanation as to how I suspected this about him, but without mentioning Gone With the Wind, which is unfortunate, because I now have this Patsy-like urge to go back and ask him if his mom was a fan of the movie--or maybe the book.

I walked out of the place thinking it was a very Patsy moment. And it was.

Weekend In Omaha

Okay, it was actually about 21 hours in Omaha, but it still counts.

Got to see Casey at his going-away shindig, as evidenced here:



Behold: The January 29th Club

My eyes are bugging out because I was telling Karen (who had my camera at that moment) how Cheryl bugged her eyes out when I complained that she had blinked in the previous picture. Karen, having no patience for the end of my narrative goings-on, snapped the picture in mid-story (and mid-demonstration).

My jacket looks awful. I should have it burned.

Anyway, Casey left yesterday. I'm going to give it a couple of days and call Karen to see what (if anything... I don't know how the military works, beyond the whole... okay, I don't know how the military works) she's heard from him.

Apparently he joined the Navy, not the Air Force. I wasn't sure whether I should feel better or worse about this. I've been told I should feel better about it--and if you have information to the contrary, keep it to yourself.

In the non-Weekend In Omaha section of the news, I haven't worked this week because I had to supervise two nights of 7th Grade Readers' Theatre performances.

About 70% of them spoke up this time, so it was more enjoyable than usual.

Okay, I'm off to bed. Hope everyone is having a great whatever it is you're having.

From Our "Circle Of Life" Department: Tommy Moore Is Dead

Tommy Moore died Sunday. I don't have any details other than what they had in the obit at hannibal.net.

It sorta broke my heart to hear about his death. Wade called tonight just as I was delivering a pizza, and as it was slightly before 7:00 I figured I'd wait until after 7:00 to call him back (and thus avoid using minutes), but by the time 7:00 arrived I was back at the store, and then I forgot to call him until I was on my way home.

He asked if I'd gotten his e-mail, and I hadn't, so he told me over the phone. And, again, it sorta broke my heart.

Don't get me wrong; Tommy and I weren't best buds or anything. But, in addition to attending Junior High and High School with him, we spent some time at Center Elementary together. We were two of... what, maybe 30? You spend seven years in a classroom with the same 30 kids or so, you feel as if you know them very well--even if that was--brace yourselves--28 years ago.

Tommy wasn't in our class from kindergarten on, however. He started going to Center in 5th grade, I think--maybe earlier. He was a big boy. He was as big as I thought I was.

He was the first person who ever told me what was obviously a complete and total insane lie where I thought, "That is obviously a complete and total insane lie." The lie had to do with Linda Carter having a wardrobe malfunction in an episode of Wonder Woman, and her subsequent running "offstage" while covering her nakedness.

The "offstage" part is what cued me in to the total-lie-ed-ness of his story. Any 5th-grader knows they don't have a "stage" in a television series. The "stage" is what they have in the gym.

I remember being totally taken aback, trying to figure out if it was my responsibility to say, "That's such a total crock! That didn't happen!" or if I should just say "Wow," and move on with my life. I chose the latter. Come to think of it, that was a very formative moment for me.

And the point of that story isn't to say, "What a liar-head that Tommy was," as we were in fifth grade at the time...

In high school--or maybe jr. high--Tommy went out for basketball. One of the coaches called him "Massive", and this kinda cruel nickname stuck. I, thinking I was as large as he, was never really comfortable using the name.

Now I'm left wondering how he felt about the nickname--both at the time and as an adult. Odd how you think of things you'd like to ask after it's too late to do so, isn't it? Or is that just run-of-the-mill human nature?

Tommy was a pretty nice guy in high school. I have vague memories of not-as-nice moments, but nothing abnormal for a adolescent male in the 1980s.

He was so excited about our 10-year reunion... I got in touch with him and he ran with the ideas we'd discussed on the phone. He'd lost a lot of weight and seemed to really have his life together. I'm thinking that reunion in 1995 is the last time I saw him. We had a night gathering at what used to be the Holiday Inn in Hannibal. We also had a picnic out at Mark Twain Lake. He organized the food was very much the in-control guy.

So, based on that reunion and the phone calls preparing for it, last I knew, he'd turned out to be a pretty great guy.

I'm trying to see if I can remember all of my classmates who have passed away since graduation... Brian Schoeneman passed away from the same thing that almost killed me about a week beforehand back in 2005. Chad Laird died several years back. I'm thinking that's it... at least the ones I know of.

How fun to be the age where you start keeping track of who from your childhood is now gone.

Anyway, Tommy's moved over to the "moved on" column. And it sorta breaks my heart.

Okay, Not ALL Bad

For instance: Joy Joy Joy!

David, Julie, and new arrival Tyson James.

I forgot to mention that in my update. I was too busy being down, and by the time I remembered I forgot to mention it, it was past my bedtime!

Nothing New To Report

By popular (okay, by Andy's) demand: an update.

Nothing new to report.

Which is actually to say there's lots to report, but it's all bad and sucky, and what's-the-point-esque. I was feeling all forward-motion-y in my life there for a while, and now I don't.

I had a whole thing I thought about posting about this horrible and non-humorous experience I had while delivering pizzas a few weeks back, but it was too upsetting/depressing/whatever to actually type about.

I also had this whole thing to type about my mama and the "n" word, as NYC or somewhere was going to outlaw use of the "n" word, but that was very backwards-looking and somewhat upsetting/depressing/whatever to write about.

I had a bowling tournament and a visit with my niece and great-niece in Omaha to type about, and while that wasn't upsetting (except for maybe the blizzard) or depressing (except for maybe the constant sense that my life is and forever shall be in a holding pattern), I hadn't had time to write about it.

There was that crazy weather from the end of February, but Mark Twain would just complain that everyone talks about the weather, but nobody does anything about it. Well, he would if he wasn't busy with the being dead and all.

And then there was this whole thing at school on Friday that was probably the most upsetting/depressing of all, because it demonstrates the problem I'm sensing at school right now, which makes me want to consider--at the very least--going to another school in the district... which is just stressful, because change causes stress, etc.

So, there's the update: things have changed, but, essentially, everything is the same.

Happy March, Everyone!

"In Case Someone Needs To Find My House At Night For Some Sort Of Emergency, Like Pizza Delivery" Tip #4

Lighting is important.

However, lighting isn't an "on" or "off" proposition. It's like all the stuff that breaking-and-entering chick, Goldilocks, stumbles across. There's two extremes and just right. Actually, there's even more than that, so it's even more complicated than Goldilocks' world.

First, if you're expecting someone, it's common courtesy to leave the light on for them. And if the bulb is out, it's common courtesy to change it.

Now, if you're deciding to put numbers up on your home, don't put them up until you've had an evening to think about it. By "think about it", I mean "turn on the porch light, go outside, and see where the less-shadowy bits of wall are". It really does more harm than good to turn on a porch light if the fancy "old fashioned street-lamp" style fixture casts shadows over the numbers. You'd be better off leaving the light off, at that point, as it might make the numbers easier to read. The shadow issue is what makes this slightly more complicated than too hot/too cold/just right.

Also, if you insist on having really bright outdoor lights, don't put the numbers too close to where the light source(s) is (are). Number too close to a bright light can be just as difficult to read as numbers that are in shadow... and what's worse, shining a flashlight (or headlights) at this problem doesn't help.

Seriously, use some sort of temporary method to put up your numbers, then have someone who doesn't know your house number drive by slowly and tell you what numbers seem to be on the side of your house. If they're able to read them, permanently affix the numbers to your home, and never change the wattage or the light fixture of your porch light.

Speaking Of My Birthday...

The Friday before, my bowling team put together a little birthday celebration for during-bowling... which involved lots of cupcakes that I ended up taking home, I guess because I'm not quite to the level of have "as a house" after my "big".

I don't remember the night in great detail, as it was a very celebratory evening, but I met new people and amazed them with my social skills, I'm sure.

Also, on the evening of my birthday, we had an event at our school, and a couple of girls did the Mr. Riggs' motions (with lip-synching) and dance to They Might Be Giants' "Older", which is the birthday tradition in my classroom.

And Mr. Anderson made his famous ice-cream dessert, which is something I look forward to on birthdays.

All this meaning: I didn't mean to imply I haven't had much of a birthday celebration in that last post. I just mean I'm still expecting the one we discussed earlier. Tricia, are you getting this? :-)

Okay, I'm off to post more pics over at STILL: Life.

The Return Of STILL: Life

If you're wondering, apparently about 191 or 192 pictures is the limit that I can put on that blog... at least with what I have on the other blogs.

Thus the lack of pictures for a few weeks over there. I've put the next 10 up, and plan to put another 10 up later today (or more likely tomorrow), and another 10 up by Saturday (and that would include Saturday's). Once I'm caught up I'll just delete the oldest entry before putting a new one up.

And I'm going to get an archive set up somewhere. I've saved the comments, and figured I can just put a record up on some other free site.

What have we missed while I've been living life? Um... well, my birthday came and went. If I'm not mistaken, the actual "party" (read: small gathering of some friends and their kids for dinner and perhaps board games (okay, I'm just putting in a plug for "I hope there are board games")) is yet to come... at least, at one point there was talk of this event happening after Patrick has returned... and he has returned.

Also, if it's going to be a Saturday evening, I need to know about 10 days before so I can let the Papa know. Or the manager of the Papa. That's a message to those of you on the planning committee.

Okay, there's other stuff to write about, but I'm cold and sick and need to get ready to go to the doctor. Oh yeah, that's something else. I'm sick. Blah.

Anyway, go look at pictures.

The Top Ten Reasons Why I'm Glad I'm Single And Live Alone

#10--I can sleep in without anyone milling around and waking me up on accident.
#9--What I want for supper is what's for supper.
#8--The only person who might complain about me not doing the dishes is the same person who got them dirty and still isn't doing the dishes, and thus has no room to complain.
#7--I don't have to worry or get suspicious when I'm the only one home at 1:00 in the morning.
#6--There's room in my passenger seat for my CDs, and a spot between the passenger seat and the door that's handy for that large QT glass I often have with me.
#5--While I'm out at 1:00 in the morning, nobody is at home worrying or getting suspicious.
#4--Nobody complains when I want to watch Buffy DVDs AGAIN.
#3--There's never a wait to use the restroom at home.
#2--I only have to schedule the holidays with my family.
#1--I have all these married/coupled friends who constantly remind me through word and deed that I'm lucky to be single and live alone.

You know, just in case that last post left anyone thinking I felt otherwise. The discomfort mentioned in that post stems from being somewhere where everyone else is wrapped up in something I'm not so interested in--like being stuck at a sci-fi convention when you abhor science fiction. While you may have a good time with the friends you're there with, once the costume competition starts, you're apt to leave, and apt to do so in a foul mood.

Again, just to clarify.

Happy New Year!

Welcome to 2007, everyone.

I just posted this as a comment elsewhere, and thought I'd discuss it here.

My New Year's Eve tradition has for years been to attend a party, feel uncomfortable at midnight when everyone is kissing their love, accept kisses from the folks who feel they must then kiss everyone in the room, then give it about fifteen minutes before leaving for the sour-mooded drive home.

I really should figure out to just stay home and go to bed early.

I do have fun at the parties, I must say. It's just the cruddy ending that I hate.

Anyway, no resolutions here, except to try to do what I can with what I have where I am.

That and win Powerball.

Happy 2007. May your days be merry and bright!