Sunday, March 29, 2009

N'Awlins, NOLA, Chocolate City Here We Come!

ThatManILove and I are trying to get packed and ready for a week of meetings and fun in New Orleans. I’m almost packed. House is clean. Cupboard is packed. Dogs are managed and ready for the housesitter. Laundry is folded and put away. TMIL is going through accounting paperwork.

I’ve moved our flights back three times. Friday to Saturday, Saturday to Sunday, Sunday to later Sunday.

I believe that this household might be experiencing some severe flight delays...ones that can’t be blamed on Crapinental. (And yes, we’re flying Southwest!)

I’ll try and blog from the Chocolate City, but no promises, Cher! Happy trails…until we meet again!

Friday, March 27, 2009

Not The Mommy! Not The Mommy!

On Friday mornings (supposedly) my housecleaners are scheduled to clean my house (supposedly). We were out late last night, so got up early to “straighten” up for the housecleaners. (Don’t laugh – you know you do it, too!)

I left the house to make an 8:20 a.m. appointment. I realized I had forgotten to leave payment, so called and asked ThatManILove to take care of it for me.

TMIL: Janie-girl, where’s the checkbook?
Janie: In my grandmother’s hutch. If it’s not there, it’s in my computer bag in the closet.
TMIL: Okay.

Later on this morning, I was having a quick phone conversation with Jill of JillJillBoBill fame, and ThatManILove calls on my office phone. Here’s how it went down:

TMIL: I have ransacked your bedside table drawers, and I cannot find your checkbook.
Janie: Dude. You wrote the check for me last week, and I’ve not written any more checks. Where did you put the checkbook?
TMIL: I don’t know.
Janie: Did you look in my grandmother’s hutch, or my computer bag?
TMIL: No. I just remember sitting on your side of the bed and writing the check.
Janie: Then you probably got the checkbook out of my computer bag.
TMIL: You’re right! Here it is! Bye!

I can hear Jill laughing on the other phone. By now, I’m freakin’ growling. Immediately, I hear Jill’s husband Rick come into their house, and ask Jill a question. I'm straining my ears to hear.

Rick: “Honey, do you know where I left my shoes?”

Jill answers him, giving him the exact location. I crack up. Jill joins me. I mean, the timing of our husbands.could.not.have.been.better.

Janie: Tell Rick I think he and TMIL may be brothers from a different mother.

And everyone wonders why women age faster than men.

Thursday, March 26, 2009

Flower Power Baby

FTD is going to freakin’ hate me for this one. Do you love getting flowers from that one you love?

I do, and yet, I don’t. Gifts, such as flowers, sometimes make me go all weird. Is that the stupidest thing you’ve ever heard? Here’s a supposed basis concerning the flowers (supposed because I really don’t know what it’s about. If Freud were alive, he’d probably analyze the hell out of this shit, seriously.

Here's my thinking: Flowers die. They’re cut. They will die, no matter what you do to them, so - if they are given as a representation of love, what then? (See what I mean?) I know,  it's really probably that X does not equal Y. Does that mean the love behind the flowers will die? Make no mistake. I love, love, love flowers...when they are growing. Specifically, when they are growing in the ground. And blooming. My very bestest favorite flower? Birds of Paradise. Unfortunately, it doesn’t grow in West Texas. Maybe that’s my problem.

This weirdness of mine really doesn’t bother ThatManILove. He spoils me rotten, he just makes super sure what gift I want. Before he buys it. And guns/hunts/puppies are always winners.

Y’all think I might have a little control problem?

Sunday, March 22, 2009

FlyClear - Get Through Those Security Lines Quick!

When you’re at Denver International, you’d best have all your little duckies in a row and get there plenty of time before boarding. Walking through security there is like walking through a maze.

Did you know that you can Fly Clear? Clear has come to major airports -and you can fly through airport security! For a small annual fee, you can sign up, skip the lines, and get in and out of security in a flash. Last October, I signed up for this service. They do a background check, make sure all your little duckies are in a row, and you're in. I came home, and a couple of days later, I had my Clear security card waiting for me in my mailbox.

I flashed it at ThatManILove. Here’s how it went from there…

TMIL: What did you have to give up to get that?
Janie: What do you mean?
TMIL: Fingerprints? What?
Janie: Oh…ummm…fingerprints. And…umm…pictures of my irises. (His eyebrows go up past his hairline - and that's a ways!) And...ummm... copies of my passport and drivers license. (No. Hell, no. I didn't even tell him I paid for the privilege of giving that stuff away.)
TMIL: Girl. You’re in the system now. Did they put a microchip in your forehead?
Janie: No. God. I didn't even think about that. Shut it, please.

Visions of the end days and "666" flashed before my eyes. How could I have been so stupid?

Months pass.

We go to Denver. ThatManILove grabs a brochure for Clear and reads it. Decides to sign up and get hizownbadself “in the system”. When we go to the airport for our return flight, we get there 3 hours early just to sign up.

Here he is going through “the drill.”

We’re almost through when I pull the plug.

Janie: Just one more thing, honey. They've done your iris pictures, taken good shots of your fingerprints. Now. See this copier? They need an image of your bare butt.
TMIL: What?

I was teasing about that part. But not about the Clear Card. For the record…it took me 7 minutes to get through Denver security with my Clear Card. It took ThatManILove 18 minutes without his.

You go through the Clear line, put your card into the machine, an attendant double checks your i.d. and the card. Then, the uniformed attendant helps you unpack your laptops, etc., puts them in bins, and carries them for you - oh, yes, he does - up to the x-ray machine. All you have to do is follow the attendant. And, yes, if you happen to be wondering what happens next, the attendant politely steps in front of the line, secures a place for you, at the front of the line, making you first in a line of a million people, right at the entrance to the x-ray machine, puts your items on the roller, and steps back, after bidding you a good day.

Nobody gripes that you just major line-jumped, or anything. It almost makes you feel guilty.

Naaaaaaah. It doesn't. Pampered, yes. Guilty, no. And the whole time, ThatManILove is watching, and shaking his head in disbelief. And if ThatManILove wasn't a believer, he by golly is now.

Friday, March 20, 2009

Resveratrol Ultra and Demapril - Ask Carla!


I fall for it. You know, the wrinkles ad. The one on the sidebar of Facebook that says “Lose 20 years of Wrinkles”. And I have to click.

You know, if you’ve used Facebook, you’ve seen it. It's on the right sidebar of your screen.
Go ahead. Click on it. You too can “Learn the secret of a mom who combined two products to eliminate her wrinkles for good.”

I check it wherever I am. And I’ve proved it. If I’m at home, the “mom” is named Carla. And she’s from Odessa. Sometimes, she’s from Midland. But she's always named Carla. She has a Dual State residency problem, obviously. BUT she always has 2 kids, is in a great marriage and considers herself a happy person. Oh, yeah. And she’s always 45. I guess that’s the acceptable age to see wrinkles and be sick of them.

If I’m in Denver or Dallas? The “mom” has a different name. But she’s in the same great marriage as Carla, and has the same kids, and is ALSO 45. I bet they have the same husbands, too. Because both of these ladies, amazingly, have a friend (probably married to the same guy!) named Becky that talked them out of plastic surgery and told them to use Resveratrol Ultra and Demapril.

Becky shore gets around. Makes me wonder why she’s not calling me and giving me free samples of this stuff. Carla says: “I was surprised by the results after the first 3 days – but once a week had passed I was totally blown away… I knew I was on to something special.”

I think I am on to something special, a scam -but at least I know how to spell "Barbara Walters", who is listed alongside their ad, presumably to give credence to their product. (They spell it "Barbera Walters". Makes me feel really secure about getting their "free" product.)

This could be a good product and I could be missing out on a wrinkle-free face with my own before and after pictures. Y’all try it and let me know. Okay? (God. I hope it works.)

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

Post Office Antics - and a Prayer Request

My friend Cheryl just found out she has a brain tumor.

Yesterday, I was at the post office counter, securing an “overflow” mail box to accommodate my massive amounts of mail. The line waiting for service numbers about 30 people. My banker friend Cheryl sidles up to me, and gives me a hug. Then, she turns to my post office clerk. This is how it went down.

Cheryl: Hi, Paul(BTW, those who really know him, like me, call him Johnny)! I have a brain tumor, and I can’t drive. I left my keys at home, can you get my mail out of my box while you're helping Janie?

Johnny: I have to finish helping Janie first.

Johnny finishes with me, goes to get my new box keys, then comes back. Asks Cheryl for her ID.

Cheryl: Oh, I don’t have my ID with me. But Janie can verify I’m who I am.

Janie: She really is Cheryl (last name). She’s a VP at (local firm).

He writes all this down. Asks her for her drivers liscense number. Date of birth. She starts rattling off numbers. I stop them. She must be on some major meds, because I know she knows better.

Janie: Girl, if you give out any more info, all these people that are listening will have all the info to steal your identity. You’d better stop.

Janie, turning back to Johnny: And, Johnny, she really does have a brain tumor.

He looks at us, grinning. It hits me. How many people come in there and say that kind of stuff? Rattle off excuses like that?? I bet quite a few.

Janie: No, really. She does.

Johnny finally decides to believe us. He goes to get her mail. And then I turn to Cheryl, laughing and hugging her.

Janie: How long you gonna ride this brain tumor train, chica?

Cheryl: Oh, about a week. My surgery’s scheduled for Wednesday in Dallas.

We both crack up. I look around, realizing we could be the impetus for a riot. People going postal, as it were. This chick just line-jumped 30 people. I realize the ones that can hear our conversation are smiling – they’ve figured out Cheryl is telling the truth.

So. When you think of Cheryl, laugh – because laughter is super sweet at a time like this.

And Cheryl, her family and I? We covet your prayers.

Five in Five - That Zoie-girl (and Braja update!)

Somebody flung this meme on me, where you're supposed to take your fifth picture from your fifth folder and post it. Here it is.

Ah, yes. The Wonder Pup Zoie, light of our lives, who we lost in an accident in August of last year. In this picture, we had just come in from yet another trip, and had an apple in our bag. We were unpacking, and Miss Zoie found the apple and stole it from the bag. She was such a funny dog, and we miss her tremendously!

Want to play? Go to your pix, and post the fifth picture from your fifth folder. Let me know if you do this and I'll give you some linky love!

UPDATE: Here's who's playing along so far...

Di at The Blue Ridge Gal

Shonda at Texas Red

And here's Joanie's!

2nd UPDATE: Guess who's out of the hospital? Braja !! Click for update!

Tuesday, March 17, 2009


I can’t sleep, so you win, Bloggersville. Damn leprechauns.

Well, you win, sort of, since I’m trying to catch up a little on writing. And maybe post twice in two days. There isn't a rule on content, is there? If so, I'm busted. It’s almost 3 a.m., and I’ve slept about 30 minutes tonight. I don’t know what’s going on, except that. work. keeps. cycling. through. my. brain. like. a. maniac. and. will. not. leave. me. alone.

So, each time I think of someone I haven’t called on, or need to visit, I put them on my crackberry calendar. Right then and there. Which insures that my alarm will be going off all day tomorrow, reminding me to do all the things I dreamt about (or thought about when I tried to dream) tonight.

I even took a natural sleeping pill at midnight, which, at the rate it’s going, should probably kick in about 6 a.m., when I should be up getting ready for work.

Zack the Wonderdog has his vasectomy (neuter) appointment later on this morning at 8 a.m. Life should be interesting later this afternoon, when we get him home. I was reading up on what to expect after surgery and found out that you can actually buy prosthetic testicles for your dog. ThatManILove has been teasing about getting them for Zack so that Zack won’t lose his stud dog look, but I think (and hope) he’s teasing.

Anyway, I’m going to go count green sheep now.


Happy St. Patrick’s Day!

Monday, March 16, 2009

Vacation? or Brain Wave?

I've been reading your blogs all weekend. And I started reading again this morning. And then I realized that I'd not posted all weekend.

Duh. So, will this suffice? (Webster would probably roll over in his grave reading "duh" and "suffice" in the same line)

I'll catch up later. Promise!

Friday, March 13, 2009

Please Pray for Braja at Lost and Found in India

Friends are friends, no matter the distance, no matter the time. A good friend once told me that true friends are those who chase sleep for you. Quickly, over the waves of the internet, Braja at Lost and Found In India has become a close friend, though we’ve not yet met. I am but one of a few hundred Braja fans, but somehow, amongst the crowd, we connected. Across all sorts of barriers, cultures, and miles, we connected.

I’m not going to go into details – suffice it to say that my friend Braja (from Australia) and her husband Jahnu (from Denmark) and their driver were in a very serious car accident in India and all three desperately need our prayers. Paul V is keeping us updated – thanks, Paul! And LadyFi and Vodka Mom are helping to spread the word. Please pray for these two, Braja and Jahnu, as well as their driver, who was also seriously injured.

And Braja – when you can read this – know that I’m lifting both you and Jahnu, and your driver, up to the Father and crying out for healing, comfort, and peace. I'm chasing sleep for you. I love you, girlfriend.

Lisa suggested we all pray at 12 noon (wherever you are!) tomorrow, 3/14 - high noon for Braja and Jahnu.  What a way for bloggers to come together and honor one they love!

(I'm taking a hint from Lady Fi and posting a picture of a Rangoli design in honor of Braja.)

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Quiet In the Theatre, Please!

Some of you know that, despite his oilfield career and time spent in the sticks, ThatManILove is somewhat of a culture snob. He LOVES plays, independent movies, poetry, reading, art galleries, anything that has to do with the “Ahhts, Dahlink!”. It’s almost an obsession with him. His love for the arts has opened up a whole new world for me, and I love it.

Coming in to Denver, I saw on my boarding pass (at 5:30a.m., as we boarded the red-eye to Denver from Dallas) that Phantom of the Opera was showing that same night. ThatManILove took the liberty of purchasing tickets, and when I got to the hotel, room service awaited. (I know, I’m spoiled!) Room service cost us out the butt, with a $28 dollar delivery charge (from the restaurant in.the.hotel, people!)! And when ThatManILove figured out he tipped on top of that, he wasn't a happy camper. This menu should read "feed the body, nourish the soul, max out your credit card".

We enjoyed the weather, and walked to the theatre. Our seats were divine. We settled in to watch the play. Neither of us had ever seen it, though ThatManILove was very familiar with the story and had seen the movie. The set was amazing, as were the costumes.

Midway through the first half, I’m more than a little perplexed, but trying to keep it to myself. I just can’t get the flow of the story. And I’ve been to the opera in several cities, so I’m no dummy about it. I just chalked my inability to comprehend to the fact that I’d had little sleep, worry about my brother, intense meeting that day in Denver, etc. And, then…

That ManILove leaned over: Are you enjoying this?
Me (Oh, God. Is it that apparent? Was I wriggling around? Sighing? What?): Sure, honey!
TMIL: Do you understand what’s going on?
Me: Uh, yeah. I got it, I understand. (Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.)
TMIL: I'm glad you do. I know the story and I'm having a hard time following it. I don't know if they've abbreviated it, or they're having a hard time flowing or what, but something's off.
TMIL: This is horrible. Do you want to leave?

I was in shock. And then, horror of horrors, I started giggling. I mean, this was so out of sync for ThatManILove. He knew we were in trouble then. Our seats were such that he bundled me out of there, posthaste. By the time we cleared the door to the theatre and got to the elevator, tears were streaming down my face and he was laughing.

He cracks me up.

I now have a whole new appreciation for his appreciation of the arts. When it’s good, it is very very good. When it’s very bad, we are out of there! Woohoo, Dahlink!!

Saturday, March 7, 2009

I'm Going Green - The New Stimulus Plan

The air is dry in Midland. Humidity? Zero, people.

It is even more dry in Denver, a fact to which my hair can attest. I got off that plane, we secured the rental car, and ThatManILove dropped me off at my meeting. My hair had so much static electricity in it, I could have electrified 1/2 of Denver.

I went and dropped over $80 at Ulta for hair products. Until I implemented the use of said products, my hair looked like this. Okay, I’m lying. My hair didn’t even look this good. It was either SCREAMING or stuck flat to my head in no style ever seen by man, woman, or child.

Wonder if I'll qualify for a new "Going Green" grant from Obama?

Friday, March 6, 2009

For the Love of VodkaMom, Braja, and Marinka

What the heck?

I’ve been taken hostage. I went to Denver on a business trip, a 3 day business trip, that is. One day up, one day doing business, one day home. In the middle of day one, Little Brother Scott suffered a major heart attack. We rerouted our flight, getting off and heading back to Dallas. Scott came through the surgery with flying colors and the decision was made for us to carry on to Denver.

All that to say…ThatManILove has taken me hostage and won’t let us come home until Sunday. And I’m going to go with that!

I’ve been so busy, haven’t been posting or reading. This morning, I went to read blogs and found out that Marinka and Braja have been guest-posting here and here. Those heifers, all three of them. Heifers, heifers, heifers. They’ve been having a par-tay and I wasn’t even invited!


I’m gone. I’m in Denver. And if anyone wants to guest post for me, contact me. We’ll talk terms and conditions…mostly, your term is anytime you want to and the conditions are favorable for guest posters anytime I’m gone.

Just remember…my blog is published daily on the local paper webpage so you have to be nice and not post about pink thongs, toys of a different nature, or things like that.

Any volunteers?


Anybody out there?

(Sniff. Sniff.) (Janie wipes away a tear.)

Okay. Have a great day…and please pray for Scott’s quick and complete recovery! I’m hitting the streets of Denver.

Sunday, March 1, 2009

I Got My Rock Moves

I’ve been gritching about how busy I’ve been this week in the Metroplex. ThatManILove and I have virtually gone from one event to another, with no down time inbetween. So, I thought I’d show you a picture of our hotel room. Heavy on the "our". It takes a-two to tango like-a dees, compadres.

Two days ago, it was spotless. Heck. One day ago it was spotless! As our schedule graduated exponentially, so did the level of trashing this room. I woke up this morning at 6:30 a.m. after going to sleep around 1:00 a.m., and this is what I saw.

Don’t be hatin’ until you walk with us. We’re usually decently clean people, I really like to have everything picked up and in it’s place before I lay my head down upon the pillow. But this weekend? We might as well be rock stars. The saving graces are that all the linens are intact, the mirrors remain unbroken, and we’ll be packing up within the hour.
And all will be well.