Plastic Flowers

Memorial Day is my favorite Holiday. I love the beautiful plastic flowers people put on graves to make themselves feel better about treating their dead loved ones like dirt when they were alive.
Every Tuesday after Memorial Day, my Mom and I go, after Memorial Day shopping. It's a mad house, but we love it. We show up at Wallyworld at 4AM to be the first ones to hit the sales. We stock up on all those lovely plastic floral arrangements. I have a gorgeous yellow rose arrangement above my headboard in my bedroom. I think it is really appropriate because it has a lovely orange banner emblazoned with REST IN PEACE across it.
I bought a whole cart full, so that I could give these awesome arrangements as gifts all year long. Sometimes I add a letter or two to the banners so that they fit the occasion. For instance, my cousin is getting married and I brought one of the most beautiful of the plastic Daisy arrangements for a gift to her shower. It originally had said, " You are Missed." I crossed out the "d" and added an "S". Get it, You are MISSES like MRS.? I know I'm pretty creative. She was so moved she couldn't even speak.

How do you win?

Well, I know it's been a few days, but to be honest, I've been in bed. The first few days after I broke up with Tony I felt fine. Then one night, as I lay in bed it hit me, did I break up with him or did he break up with me? Really, what did he mean when he said, "I never want to see you again?" Could it be that I didn't break up with him because he smells and loves John Stinking Denver? Could it be that he broke up with me because I am "the most self-centered person he's even known"? Anyway, those thoughts, as ridiculous as they may seem now, were very real to me a few days ago and so I stayed in bed for 3 days. I didn't even get up for food or a shower. I did however, watch a lot of daytime drama and the Game Show Network. During commercials another thought kept coming to my mind and that is the topic of this post. (I believe it was induced by the game shows I was watching.)

When I read other people's blogs they say things like, "I have the best husband in the world" or "my job is the greatest" or "My kids are the most adorable" or "our home is just perfect". You get the point. My question is, how do they know that? Is there some sort of polling data collecting company out there that goes around and asks people who The Best Husband in the World is? Or are these things decided by popular vote? If so, are their regional winners and then state and national winners? Or is it smaller than that, more of a family thing? Like, in a particular family, all the men who qualify as husbands are observed and then the oldest woman of the family decides who will be dubbed "THE BEST HUSBAND". (although, that wouldn't really represent the world then would it?)

The other option is that the people making these statements have the experience on which to base these claims. So if you were to say that you have the "best husband in the world" that would mean you've actually been married to every man in the world and so you know, for a fact, that the one you presently have is, in fact, the best one. (what are the chances of the last man you pick being the best one? How long will this one last?) This would also mean that if you say your kids are the most adorable, you have actually seen EVERY child and now know for a fact, that yours are the most adorable.

Now I'm not the brightest crayon in the box, but even with commercials running in the back ground, I'm thinking no one could actually KNOW they have the best of anything. SO that leaves us to the first options, which are the Poll or Popular Vote. I had no idea such things existed. Do people run for these positions or do you just live your life and hope everyone notices that you have the MOST ADORABLE KIDS? I lean more toward a Polling situation, since that would be more random and would also explain why I've been a citizen and registered voter for years and have never been notified of a best of anything election. (outside the realm of politics of course.)

SO if any of you know how these things work please advise me, I'd love to vote for my Uncle Louie, who in spite of banging his head on the coffee table, is a really great guy.

It's Off

Well, my very brief venture into the world of romance is over. I broke up with Tony tonight. There are many reason, not the least of which is his occupation. But it boils down to this, there are two kinds of people in this world, those who like John Denver and those who don't, I hate John Denver, Tony thinks he's awesome.

Tony called tonight and he told me he thought I should lay off THE MOST AMAZING HERBS ON EARTH, because he thought my voice seemed deeper. Then he told me he would buy my membership to a gym if I would promise to go, this thoughtful gesture really made it hard for me to do, what I knew I must. He went on to say he'd never met anyone so self absorbed as I am. I had to stop him before he said anymore and made it even harder for me to break his heart. Well I hated to do it, cause I know he worships me, but I broke up with him. I know he's gonna come crawling back to me, but I think this is what is best for both of us and after the pain settles some for him, he'll see that too. Excuse me my phone is ringing, I bet it's Tony................ No it wasn't it was just one of the cats banging it's head against the phone.

Anyway, on a brighter note, I may be starting a new in-home business. This business promises to make me rich quick. I'd love to use you as a wrung on the ladder of my success, so if you're interested in a in-home business let me know. If any of you have been following my discussion with Puss-in-Boots, you'll have an idea of the money making potential this has. All you need to start this business is a fast car or a small kittie gene pool in your neighborhood and a deep freeze. You could be well on your way to being a Thousandare!

MY DATE

Well, all of you have been waiting patiently for the report of my blind date with Tony. It went well....I think. He was, in fact, a very nice man, he did wear cheap Avon cologne, but he did not have on nurses shoes. So he is a lot like his grandma, minus the shoes.

We had a really nice time, but it took a little while for me to overcome his appearance. I'm not at all into "fashion" I think you have way too much time on your hands and the I.Q. of a parasite to be a slave to fashion. But on a first date it can be disconcerting to show up at a girls house dressed in a butcher's apron. You see, Tony works at a meat processing plant and doesn't get off til 6pm. Our date was scheduled to begin at 6:30pm, so he didn't have time to go home and change. He did however, put on a fresh apron (which I was very thankful for) and really sprayed on the Avon cologne to cover the smells of meat processing. (or at least I think that's what the smell was, maybe he was just nervous)

Anyway, he took me to this French Restaurant, where they wouldn't seat us because Tony didn't have on a dinner jacket. Tony tried to convince the Matador(isn't that what the guy who seats you at fancy restaurants is called?) that his apron was the latest style in dinner jackets, but it didn't fly and we had to leave. We headed across the street to a hot dog stand with seating. They served hot dogs, brats, burgers, chicken fingers, and brownschwiger. The problem was that Tony doesn't eat meat, and you can certainly understand why considering his occupation. So I had a hot dog, well half of one, then Tony told me how they make hot dogs at his plant. And Tony ate some Sour kraut. We talked forever about our families, can you believe his family does the same as we do at Easter, except they do it at Christmas with a weird Santa. After dinner we went roller skating and had so much fun, until Tony got his apron strings caught in my skate and we crashed. The rink was really full, because it was Senior Skate night, and we had about 40 Old-timers piled on top of us before the rink manager came out and help get us all up. After that Tony took me home. He didn't even try to kiss me at the door. (This may have been due to the fat lip he got when we crashed.)

So that was it, we had so much fun. I didn't get a picture, cause it would have been weird. I did however, ask Tony to give me a tour of the plant where he works, and he said he would, so I don't think it would be weird at all to take pictures on a tour. I'm not sure where our relationship will go, but he has called me everyday this week, so I think he's interested.

So that's all from here.

Anybody still want the Easter Monster Suit?

Well, I finally dug up the old photo with me and Grandad on my first Easter. Now that you've seen the suit, I have a feeling there won't be so many people fighting over it.

I'll leave a longer message tomorrow. I have a blind date tonight with a guy named Tony. He sells THE MOST AMAZING HERBS ON EARTH too! He lives in a different selling district than I do. His Grandma set us up. (she's in my selling district, in fact I'm on her down line.) Anyway, if Tony is anything like his Grandma, he should be nice, smell like cheap Avon perfume, and wears nurses shoes with every outfit. I'll try to get a picture of Tony and I on our date. I'm not promising anything, since it could be weird to try to get a photo on a first date. Wish me luck.

Religious Convention

I have recently become cyber friends with a number of people I found on blogspot. In a lot of their blogs I noticed that they have referred to an IHC. I was lost as to what this meant. Well, I did some research and figured out it is some sort of religious convention. I even listened to some of the sessions on the Internet. All this got me thinking about the religious conventions we attended when I was a kid. We attended because Dad and Mom often had to play for the Keynote sessions or lead choirs full of people who should have stopped singing 20 year previous.

Well, the most memorable Religious Convention we ever attended was when I was 9. We were still attending the FPC. (This was before Granddad got mad and left to become a FBC member. ) Anyway, the convention was being held this year in San Antonio, TX. We were really excited about seeing the sights and having a "refreshing time of religion". (That was the theme for that year.)
When we first got to San Antonio we went straight to the Convention Center. Oh what fun it was to see so many people. Many people were familiar, but several were new faces to us. Well, we went into what we thought was the main Auditorium and Dad and Mom started setting up their instruments and getting a sound check. I sat dutifully on the front row listening to their attempt at a classical arrangement of Ode to Joy. I noticed that people were starting to fill the Auditorium and someone stepped up to the Hammond Organ and started playing like gang busters. This was not the kind of music we were used to in the FPC! Mom and Dad did their best to keep up and I did my best to keep from getting danced on. I'd never been in any religious service like this in my life. People were twirling and singing loud and well, I think you get the picture. Then this preacher got up who reminded me of that little preacher on TV that slaps people on the head and they start shaking and stuff. Needless to say, Mom and Dad looked like a deer caught in headlights sitting up on the platform with their musical instruments and watching all the commotion. I was having fun with all this, after the initial shock. I had always had to sit quietly and read books during religious events and now we were dancing and laughing and having a good ole time. Well, three hours later the hilarity was finally over and Dad and Mom walked out of that place in utter dismay. What had become of their beloved FPC Convention? They also scolded me pretty harshly for dancing during a religious service. I innocently told them that I wasn't aware that we had been in a religious service.
Well, we walked out of that Auditorium and ran into an Elder from our local FPC and he said, "Isn't it wretched that we have to share the same Convention Center with those Snake Handlers?" Well, it all became clear right then. This group was also called the FPC, but their "P" in FPC and our "P" in FPC represented something quite different. Anyway, it took a couple of days for Dad and Mom to recover, but they did and we had a great time visiting with friends and attending religious services where the adults learned that it is spiritual to recycle and the children quietly looked at books.

The following is my reply to a question from Miss. Swamp. You can read her whole question on the comments of ASK VIOLA. I will sum it up here for you as well. Miss. Swamp is concerned that the Bank Employees are watching and even laughing at her when she is using the ATM. This has lead her to make faces, order food, and shout at the machine.

Miss. Swamp,

It is my Father who plays the Harp, my Mother plays the Tuba, but I can see how you could confuse the two.

As far as your ATM fixation. Well, yes the bank employees do watch you and they do laugh. The reason I know this is because my 6th job, was as a Bank Teller. Mondays are very slow at the bank so to spice things up a bit we had Maniac Monday. This is where all the bank employees sit around and watch the tapes from the ATM machine. We only would watch the tape from the previous weekend, since weekends are when most people use the ATM. We had categories that we voted on, such as Deepest nose picker, Best Primper, The Best Scratcher. Then we would pause the tape as each person walked up and we would bet to see which ones would do things like count using their fingers or pull out their "secret" pin number from their wallet, or try to talk to the machine. (this happens more than you think.) SO yes, Miss Swamp you are being watched and laughed at.
I would however, advise you not to order cheeseburgers or yell at the Machine. At my particular bank there was an employee named Dave. Dave felt a bit insecure about being a Teller. You see Dave felt that being a Teller was a woman's job and it was a bit of an identity crisis for him. It didn't help that Dave was, in fact, the only male Teller at the bank or in the town for that matter. He also was a tad bitter because, before working at the bank he had attended Yale Law School and had flunked out. So he really was a prime candidate for slipping over the edge. You see, you are not the only person who makes faces and yells at the ATM camera and each time an individual would do this Dave took it personally. Then the fateful day came when someone ordered a cheeseburger. It sent Dave over the edge. You see when Dave flunked out of Yale his advisor said, "Dave, I think you're more suited to flip burgers than to practise law." This struck Dave at the heart and he never really recovered from that harsh criticism. Well, Dave did some serious research to find the name and account number of the customer who ordered a cheeseburger. He liquidated all of the poor man's accounts and transferred his money into other people's accounts. He sold the man's personal information to every Liberal Charity organization known to man so that he was continually hounded with phone calls from the Arbor Day Foundation, The EPA, Greenpeace, and others that are just too numerous and hideous to put here in this article. Needless to say the poor man, who made the simple immature gesture of ordering a burger at the ATM to make the women he was taking on a blind date laugh, was ruined.
So Miss. Swamp I would suggest that you seek out some help for your little problem. You never know where the next Dave may be working.