The Requisite Mommy-blogger Halloween Post

Well, another Halloween has come and gone. My son will soon pass out from his sugar-induced eating orgy and I, well, am still unemployed. Oh, joy.

But, now, this is not about me and my paranoia dementia depression. This is about sending innocent little cherubs out to beg for candy for some innocent childhood fun. This is probably the first year he has truly understood what was happening. He has been asking about his costume for a week. Being the lazy slaggard that I am, I naturally put off finishing it until this morning. He has been a wizard for the past two years; a costume I made thinking ahead to when he would be sick of being a wizard and I could foist off the Grim Reaper on him (hey, scary, different, not a wizard! ). I could use the robe from the wizard costume, add a hood, paint his face white, hand him a scythe (okay, a hockey stick), and voila! Grim Reaper.

Here is my son as the Grim Reaper. Originally I was going to make some white face paint (simply made from shortening mixed with cornstarch) and then paint some black around his eyes and mouth with eyeshadow (boy, ain't I creative?). We had to eat dinner before heading out (boy I have never seen a 5-year old scarf down supper so fast). He was finished almost before I sat down. He didn't want to wait for me to paint his face. I guess he was worried all the candy would be gone before he got to it.

He needn't have worried:

Things you don't wanna hear...

I missed the fun over at Jennsylvania and she has closed the comments but I really want to put this story out there. The topic was, "Things You Don't Wanna Hear..."

It was 1992. I was going on a scuba diving trip to Belize with 8 of my friends (the woman who trained me; two people who were in my class; their two children; an exchange student staying with them; and another couple who are friends of us all). We needed to fly from Belize City to Dandriga to catch the boat which would take us to the resort we were all staying at, the Blue Marlin Lodge.

Just as a reminder...we were going scuba diving, meaning scuba gear. For nine people. For seven days. That is a lot of gear.

This was a small plane; a ten-seater, with the tenth seat being that of the pilot. We were just beginning to board the plane; most of my friends were already standing at the door getting ready to climb aboard. I was back just a bit, near the tail taking a picture of the plane. I heard the pilot speaking to the guy loading the gear,

"Did you weigh all this stuff?"

...and today I cried

Not the cute, sweet crying with the dabbing at the corners of your eyes with a delicate lace-edged hanky and quiet sniffling, but big deep, snotty, puffy-eyed, red-nosed, chest-heaving sobs. And no kleenex within reach.

Why, you ask?

Well, the wonderful job that I got. The one that I was gonna be at until I am bowed and grey-haired (okay, more bowed and yes, my hairdresser does know)? The one that seemed to care and that seemed interested in me and my career? The one that moved us 2800 miles? Yeah, that one. Well, they are having "Workforce Reduction" (ummm, yeah, euphemism for layoffs). Right. Last in. First out.

I got the notice last month. They gave me 5 weeks severance, which just ran out. They said that I could apply for internal jobs and I would get 'preferential' treatment. I applied for, like 50 or 100 jobs in various places. Many of which are like reading verbatim off of my resume. All I got was the computer-generated "Thank you for your interest..." form letters. Did any human actually read this? Anyone???

I had a great local interview last week. Thought it went really well. Today I got the flush letter. This city has virtually no other places that I can apply. I can't be a waitress anymore (even if it paid enough, even if I didn't just have hip surgery). I don't know anything else I can do except software. And there are no software jobs here.

Right now, we have enough money in the bank for one more mortgage payment (thanks to the 60 hours of vacation pay...yeah...I took virtually no vacation...actually only the ones I had to take because of plant shutdowns over Christmas and the week of the Fourth). My unemployment doesn't even come close to my mortgage (I will get a whopping $360/week...whoopee...).

I don't want to move. God I hate moving. We have done that so much in the past few years that it just makes me want to curl up in a corner and cry some more. I am tired. I am tired of being the sole support for my family. I am tired of sending out resumes. I am tired of explaining.

I am tired.

On a lighter note, I have lost 10 stress-related pounds.

Now excuse me as I move the dust bunnies out of the corner and curl up with the last box of kleenex I could find.

WWC - all caught up...

Now I am caught up with the Weekly Word Challenge. This week's words were modern and primitive.

The computer on the right is almost 12 years old, which for computers is primitive. It has a whopping 20 megabyte harddrive and 16 kB in memory. My thumbdrives have more capacity than that. Still works though. I use it to download embroidery designs onto my sewing machine.
...speaking of sewing machines... Okay, this machine is 6 years old, which is bordering on ancient, but I love my Pfaff.

And this is a primitive sewing machine. It still works too.

WWC - A week late...

Well, I seem to be a bit behind lately so here is last week's Weekly Word Challenge or "By God, I remembered to take the shots so I am damn sure gonna post 'em..."

The words were Male & Female. As can be seen by the last post, we went to an airshow last Sunday (remember this was supposed to posted last week, so this was really...oh, you figure it out...) and I noticed this Air Force guy walking on the wing of a KC-135 so I took this shot:

A bit later I looked behind us and noticed this female airman walking on the opposite wing.

Unfortunately just as I started to take the shot some big-headed woman with ugly-ass sunglasses walked in front. The wing is really not damaged, this is just my clumsy attempt to photoshop Ms. Big-Head out of the shot.

The next shot is a real-life example of my bathroom counters. I swear to GOD that I didn't rearrange anything before taking this picture:

Male (side of the) countertop:

Female (side of the) countertop:

...and I set my coffee cup on the counter to take this shot. Normally my side isn't that cluttered.

*sigh* I will try to get back on track for next week's WWC or, rather, this week's WWC...*sigh*

I am also working on a couple of real posts, you know, with words and stuff. Hopefully get to them sometime this week, too.

Wordless Wednesday - the Air Force Thunderbirds

So, how was YOUR morning...?

One little white dog...

One stupid, whining, little white dog...

Whining about a sample of CAT food left on the counter... ...is MY cat fud, stupid little white dog...

SHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUP. I feel better now.

Huh? What?

Sensational? Yeah, I guess.

I still trying to understand why she named her dog Booger.

Wordless Wednesday: The Grand Tetons

Weekly Word Challenge - High & Low

The Weekly Word Challenge for this week was High & Low:

High:

Rocky Mountain High (from the porch of B's uncle's house in Colorado):

My son, High on a wall:

Low:

Low on the risers (at music camp this summer...E was the youngest kid ever to go):

Be-Low the falls (in Yellowstone this summer):

How Much Would It Take

On the way in to work this morning, I noticed a sign posted on the door:

Found some money. If you can tell me the EXACT AMOUNT it will be returned.

Followed by a name and phone number.

This got me to wondering. How much money would I have to find to bother with a sign like this? Now I am the type of person who will correct a clerk at the checkout line when she hands me too much change. In that situation it really doesn't matter the amount, I have given back amounts ranging from just a quarter to a ten dollar bill.

But if I find some laying on the floor at work? What would it take in that situation? A couple of bucks??... Probably not...it's just not enough to bother about. But what about $10? $20? $50?

I don't know. Thoughts?

Bad Blogger...again

I have been a very bad blogger lately. I have no excuse. Except that my life is one big steaming pile of horse crap right now.

Prepare to be suitably depressed as the days follow and I commence to spill my rather dodgy guts to the Internets (not that I get a lot of traffic anyway...).

Sad

RIP, George Carlin. It's definitely a little funnier in heaven today.

Now, get your shit away from my stuff.

Live Longer?

If this is true, I know some people who will live forever.

Weirdness in the news...

Okay, am I the only one who assumed that the chicken was alive?