CAUTION: Woman In Progress

I would seriously love to totally bitch slap all three of my cousins. Seriously. Like, slap them so hard that my hand print left a permanent visible mark on their faces. I'm so sick of their freaking DRAMA and their LIES. All the pain they're inflicting on everyone in their path simply by showing their true colors. And it's just so SAD that I am really starting to loathe them because I've always loved them in spite of their flaws. Always gave them a lot of slack because they're family. But their recent behavior is just too much. Oh, you know I've already ranted about them and their vulture-tastic nature. And that was all before Paw-Paw died. (Yes, I'm finally able to use the dreaded "d" word. It took me a while and still feels awkward and sad on my tongue.) Now that he's gone? Forget it. They're lettin' it all hang out. Spreading lies on Daddy, making shit up. (Yes. I said "shit". It was one of Paw-Paw's favorite words. l...

People suck. That's all.

So apparently my brain is still not altogether functioning properly. Despite that, I'd like to thank everyone who left condolences and kind words on my previous post. They're very much appreciated, as are all of you. *smooches* I still catch myself tearing up randomly. His face will pop into my mind, or something he used to do or say and BOOM. Tear time. He was just...he was so freaking fantastic (and he'd smack me for using the word freaking! lol) that there's so much to remember about him. And not just the meaningful stuff like how proud he was to attend my college graduation or how each time I sang in church, he'd give me a thumbs up and tell me, "You done good, kid." No, a lot of it is just random little scenes that were just so...Paw-Paw. For instance, before he got sick I always sat beside Paw-Paw at church. Whenever my stomach would start to growl during the service, he'd nudge me and grin. Then after service was over, he'd laugh and say, ...

At around a quarter to noon on Sunday morning, Sept. 20, my grandfather (affectionately known as Paw-Paw Joe) passed away. He would have been 75 in two weeks. It was not unexpected, as you all know. He's been battling a brain tumor for over a year and a half. The past few months saw him getting worse and worse after nearly a year of doing great, showing progress and feeling fairly well. However expected it may have been, though--and however much I'd already been grieving these last couple of months--nothing could have possibly prepared me for the heartbreak of knowing that I'll never hear his voice again. Never see his face or share a laugh with him. I know he's in a better place. He's finally with his Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. He's no longer in pain. No longer suffering the indignities the tumor afforded. He's happy. I, however, am not doing so great. I miss him terribly. The oddest things remind me of him. A word or phrase, a sound, a smell--I think ...

It's Saturday morning and the world is awash in, well--RAIN! For the third day strait. Or straight. However you spell it. hehehe Driving to work this morning (YES! I AM AT WORK ON A SATURDAY! BOO, HISS!) was an effort. It was fairly non-rainy when I left, but about halfway to town it started raining. Then it started pouring. Then, because I couldn't see, I veered my car off the highway into a ravine. JUST KIDDING! I very well could have, though. It certainly rained hard enough during one stretch. I hate driving in the rain. Almost as much as I hate people talking to me before 8am. (Which my mother does every darn day on the way to work. She's enjoying torturing me, I think.) I don't really have anything interesting to say at all today except that it's raining. Oh, and that while I'm goofing off, err, I mean, working , my sisters, nieces and the folks are gone up to my grandparent's house for a visit. Sis1 and Emmy came home yesterday for the weekend explicit...

So, what's that crazy Jana doing out on her lawn now? She gonna spray paint her laundry detergent basket? That crazy girl and her spray paint. Always painti-- Wait, what's that? That doesn't look entirely like grass. Wha-- A FROG? What's that crazy girl doin' with a frog? There's gotta be a story in there somewhere. I hope... Of course there is. Let me tell you it. You see, yesterday morning in my mad dash out the door this little guy hopped inside the house. I tried scooping him out with my umbrella. Really smooth, I am. What can I say? It was already in my hand and I was in a hurry. Had I been using the old noodle I'd have grabbed the dustpan or something that might actually catch a frog. But this little guy was smart. He hopped twice and disappeared. The little basket thingy you see up in the top picture is kept on the floor next to the dryer. (My carport door opens up into the laundry/mud room.) So I lifted the basket up and looked beneath it, nothing....

Just called Heat Pump Dude and left a voicemail. You know, to make an appointment for installation of the heat pump? Gosh, didn't even talk to him directly--just heard his voice on the recording--and I'm all giggly and can't stop smiling. Can you imagine how silly I'd be if I'd actually spoken to him? This dude's gonna be the death of me. hehehe But now the agony of waiting for him to return my call and then seeing him again at least twice. *swoon* I need a life. LOL And no, I didn't pick him entirely based on his level of hotness. He's got skillz other than turning my brain to mush, doncha know. AND he gave me the best estimate. So there. :-P His hotness is just an added (delicious) bonus. ;-) Edited to add: Just got his call. I'm like trembling. Gah! LOL Edited AGAIN to add: Just noticed on his business card...he's a "Comfort Specialist." Oh you soooooo do not want to know where my mind went. hehehehe *shakes head* Tuesday can't ...

Neither of which has anything to do with the other, but that's what's on the old brain today. (and I'll even let you giggle about the fact that I first spelled "brain" "brian." LOL Oy.) So men. Yeah, they're STRANGE. Weird creatures. That's what I told my buddy Bridget just now. She's got man problems the same way I have man problems...that there aren't any out there available to us. Oh, there are plenty of available men out there but none that are available to us . And not that I waste too much time thinking about them (other than giggling over the Heat Pump Dude and his hotness) but there was a time that I did. I obsessed over them and what's WRONG with me and why couldn't just ONE love me. And even now I sometimes wonder about that. You know, what's wrong with me that I can't get a man? Well, a man other than a sleazoid. And who wants sleazoids really? Not me, certainly. But it just comes so easy to everyone else. Why ...

If you've never ordered novels from eHarlequin.com you may not know what I'm talking about when I say Bonus Bucks so here's the short of it. With each order you earn a couple of little slips of paper called Bonus Bucks and when accumulated, these little slips of paper allow you to "buy" some free stuff from a catalog of items listed on the website or that comes in the little magazine Harlequin sends out periodically. In the past I've gotten some really neat stuff through the bonus bucks program. A gorgeous table runner, a set of blue iced tea glasses, and a lovely little pocket mirror to name a few of the non-book items I've "purchased." So when I saw that they were offering a tote bag celebrating their 60th anniversary, I was stoked. It looked so cool in the picture, sporting a vintage cover and all. So I saved up 9 Bonus Bucks, sent off my $3.99 to cover shipping and waited. And waited and waited and waited. I waited with great anticipation to...

'Cause I know ya'll've all just been DYING to see what I've done with the place, right? Yeah, I thought so. *snort* Anyway, whether you do or not, I finally got around to hanging some stuff on the walls so I thought it'd be a good time to share. Sort of my Afters but also Befores because there's, like, some serious stuff I wanna do later. Like paint, mostly. If I can talk my lazy bones into doing it. Living Room So, basically, what we have here is a box, of sorts. lol The only way into or out of this room is by breezing between the couch and the love seat. The room is really loooooong, but sorta narrow. So I scootched everything up into a little square, sort of a compact version of how the apartment was arranged. This, in turn, creates a little entryway behind the love seat. And I don't know if you can tell it, or not, but I have a little makeshift desk/craft table set up behind the love seat. Not sure if I'm going to keep this arrangement, but I g...

Sometimes I just don't know what to think about stuff. Stuff like life and families and people you'd really love to just drop kick into the next millennium but can't because not only would God not like it, GRANNY wouldn't like it. Not to say that Granny's more powerful than God. But God forgives. Granny might not. *sigh* My cousins...Grrr... They're circling around like vultures only worse...they're not waiting for Paw-Paw to die, they're moving in BEFORE he's dead. It makes me sick. They're already asking Granny for some of Paw-Paw's stuff to get both before and after he's dead. They've "spoken" for much of Paw-Paw's stuff. Really it's just two of the three that are doing it and don't you know if I thought Granny wouldn't care I'd be giving those two cousins a little something to remember ME by...something like the imprint of my FOOT on their BUTTS. Grrrr.. It's bad enough that I cringe each time the...

So maybe the world will one day regret that I ever discovered spray paint because, hooo boy, am I enjoying the POWER of spray paint. Don't like the way something looks? Just spray paint it! That's my new motto. hehehehe Wednesday, after the yummy heat pump dude left I was trying to come down from the high I got off all that gorgeous eye candy. So I decided to sniff paint. Well, to be more accurate , I decided to finally get around to spray painting a couple of lamps. I've had them for eight years, having bought them for a dollar a piece from a friend just prior to moving into my first rental. They were a brassy gold color. Which I liked eight years ago. Eight years later? Sorta tired of it. So back when I was shopping for the black spray paint for the tray and mirror, I stumbled on the fact that they sell brushed nickle looking spray paint! I like the look of brushed nickle. It's light, it's crisp and clean. And totally modern. So I bought it a couple weeks ago. And...

Or what an idiot looks like when face to face with a hottie. Oh, yeah. That idiot? Me. *sigh* lol So yesterday I was off work because I thought I was going to meet the plumber to do some work on the field line at my house. (yes, home owning maintenance has started...) Turns out the plumber couldn't make it 'cause he was in the hospital having some tests run or something. Doh! However, I'd also arranged to meet with a heating and air guy to get an estimate on a heat pump for the house. My current unit doesn't have heat or the heat doesn't work, whatever. Either way, with Fall rapidly approaching I'm looking into having a sparkly new energy efficient heat pump installed. And oh. my. gosh. *drool* the dude that showed up was so smokin' hot that not only did he leave me slack jawed and giggling like a school girl with her first crush...no, this dude was so smokin' hot he left a trail of ashes. lol Oy. Try having coherent thoughts about SEER ratings and finan...

So it's no real secret that September is not my favorite month. Somewhere back in my 2005 archives lists plenty of reasons why. And so it is that I face this month with dread. Mostly because there's so much potential for some more bad stuff to come about this month to give me even more reason to hate it. And yet, I woke up this morning to a gorgeous fall like day and thought, gosh, what a glorious morning. Until I realized it was Sept. 1. lol I just have to remind myself that there's good stuff that happened in September, too. My parents got hitched. Fave cousin was born, as were a couple awesome aunts/uncles. Those are surely blessings, right? Meanwhile in the TMI department, I'm PMSing BIGTIME. Moody as all heck, bloated and the urge to cry while scarfing chocolate and potato chips is about to drive me nuts. My pants don't fit right, my back aches and I'm so darned tired I feel as though I could fall asleep typing. And my mother is currently wearing on a nerve...

Otherwise known as Monday on PMS. Ugh. It's just one of those days, yanno? Was okay when I woke up this morning. I really was. I got up, did my morning routine of getting ready for work and all was well. The DP even did her "business" in a timely manner and the water stayed hot in the shower and breakfast was good and all was well. And then I got in the car with my mom to go to work. I didn't get my seat belt fastened before she started in griping and complaining about this, that and the other. Seriously. All the way to work of a 45 minute drive it was complain, gripe, snipe, moan and woe is me. I kept hoping that if I sat quiet long enough it would just stop. But no such luck. At one point I just wanted to tell her in the nicest tone possible: "Mama, you know I love you more than nearly anything in the whole wide world and would not hurt you for anything. But for just today could you please, please, please hush and let me enjoy some silence before I throw myself...

Paw-Paw is home from the hospital. Not because he's doing any better, but b/c his doc is too big a horse's butt to order him to a swing bed or nursing home. Yes, Granny could admit him into a nursing home on her own but insurance would not pay. And in the even sadder not good news, the chemo isn't working, doc says. He's put it on Granny to decide whether or not to continue treatments since Paw-Paw is no longer able to make sound decisions for himself. She's taking the weekend to pray and meditate on it. Though I've not said it out loud (unlike others in my family who seem to say it all the time...grr) I fear he's not long for this earth either way. I don't want to consider life without him in it but there it is. The reality of it all. And my deepest darkest fear is that with his passing, my other grandparents won't be far behind him. Seems the nature of things. Once one goes, they all start going. And I suppose I (and they) am at the time in my life...

I've been up to a few firsts lately. Something about finally being a homeowner has awakened my nesting instincts, I guess. So yeah, I've baked a few things in my day. Sausage balls, lemon bars, cookies. But I'd never attempted any sort of bread before. Bread is Haaaaaarrrrd. lol But I had some left over bananas that had gone too ripe and not wanting to be wasteful, I got the sudden urge to try my hand at banana nut bread. As kids, this was a special treat (heck, still is!) that my mama used to whip up in two seconds flat. It's very simple ingredients, after all. I had to borrow Mama's loaf pan as well as flour and baking soda and powder. I have, like, NOTHING in my pantry. lol She also sent me the recipe and gave me hints. And of course, I can't read a recipe. I get too far ahead of myself and ended up mixing the sugar with the other dry ingredients when it was supposed to have been mixed with the eggs, bananas, vanilla, etc. My bad. But the recipe said ...

Why do I ask that you wonder? It's Monday. The weekend's past. Well I didn't get one! *pout* I had to work Saturday. And even though I was only here for 3 hours, those three hours, in the middle of the day, sucked all the weekend right outta me. I took three hours comp time Friday afternoon and spent some time with Lyssa and Sis2. When they answered the door, Lyssa looked up at me and said, "Mone," and turned for me to follow her to her room. lol So we played puzzles and blocks for an hour and a half and then she drank some juice and went crazy. lol If I had just a small fraction of her energy I'd be set. I seriously did not want to get up Saturday morning. Partly because I didn't want to go to work and partly because I was sleeping so well. But the alarm went off ridiculously early and I had to roll out. The DP needed some Mama time and I didn't want to rush around to get ready for work. I was out the door shortly after 9, though and at work just in ...

So I don't get it. Someone please, clue me in. Why are some folks so hung up on being critical of what the general population is wearing? And I'm not talking fashionistas or clothing designers and models. I'm talking, why is a regular gal so hung up on why folks are wearing what they're wearing? Okay, so you still don't get what I'm saying. Or maybe you do. But here's an example. I have this friend, I'll call her Judge-y. Judge-y notices EVERYTHING. What people are wearing and how age appropriate it isn't. We were walking back from BK just now and she mutters to me, "Tell me why someone that age (60 or so) thinks she has to dress like a teeny-bopper?" Me, I was paying more attention to our previous conversation and thinking how much happier my taste buds were after that BK splurge. I looked up, but of course, the person to whom she was referring was already gone. So I say rather glibly, "So that she can pretend she isn't as old as ...

Or make us wish we were dead, doesn’t really matter. Or so I feel, anyway. I read this article on MSN this morning about how dangerous wearing flip flops can be. Not because you might slice your toe open or something really dangerous like that. No. They meant because of germs . Yes. You heard me. Germs. Those things that are everywhere and impossible to avoid. Those things that, unless they come into contact with your nose, mouth or eyes or say, an open wound, can’t really hurt you. Yeah, they definitely aren’t good, but you know, things are germy. Feet are germy. Fact: flip flops or not, feet are germy. Granted, yes, the germ factor is raised when your feet are practically bare. But they’re feet. It’s not like you go around licking them. And I never heard of anyone dying from wearing flip flops. So until someone does, I’ll be wearing mine. Thanks. Also, you know all the hoopla about toilets, right? How each flush yields a ton of germ spray? It gets all over everything? I was just re...