Belated

Intervieww questions will be sent soon. Been offline for a few days and only got one set done. Will finish this weekend.

Interview Me!

Questions for me from Sharon:

1. What's your favorite outfit that makes you feel good when you wear it?
At this particular moment it is a pair of Levi's, my Hard Rock London shirt and an Old Navy knit deep-vee neck (as in you have to wear something under it because it's so low cut) top over the t-shirt (the Hard Rock shirt is too tight to wear alone) and wedges.

2. List your five CDs you would take to a desert island.
Beatles One, Matchbox Twenty Yourself or Someone Like You, Dixie Chicks Fly, Killers Hot Fuss, Garth Brooks No Fences.

3. If you had to eat one food only for the rest of your life, what would it be?
Popcorn.

4. Describe the best way to spend a rainy day.
In bed and whatever that entails...books, naps, telly, hubby, kids, phone, laptop.

5. What's your biggest pet peeve?
Whiney children--my own or those of other people.

The rules:
1. Leave me a comment saying, "Interview me."
2. I will respond by emailing you five questions. I get to pick thequestions.
3. You will update your blog with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone elsein the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them fivequestions

Berate

The word of the day is BERATE--to scold angrily. So, who would you like to berate? My list:

1. Blogrolling--WHY can I not see which blogs in my Blog Roll have been updated? This is how I keep up.

2. The weather--RAIN, dammit. I want some rain. Am tired of all this dry, dusty ickiness.

3. Bubblehead--Making teachers direct traffic with a homemade stop sign attached to a paint-stirring stick is just about the dumbest thing you've ever asked us to do and I am tired of it. Thank you for retiring.

4. Stupid people--Get the hell off the internet. You're just making it harder for those of us with the capactiy for rational thought and logical debate by forcing us to wade through your abject stupidity.

5. The fuckwit with the horn--Stop honking every time you drive by my house, moron. I don't care if you do see someone you know sitting on the porch across the street. You're wimpy, squeaky little "beep beep" is about to send me over the fricking edge.

Accent? What Accent?

I'm home from London--great trip, btw. I'll update that later over there, but do have one tidbit to share here. One of my favorite little chains to grab a sandwich, Eat, will heat sandwiches for you. You order, ask for your stuff heated and then they write your name on your bag and call you when it's ready.

The cashier asked me my name, and I said, "Kim." She was Asian and spoke with a fairly strong accent and looked at me a bit confused. I repeated, "Kim". She looked at me for a second or so, then nodded and wrote my name on the bag and fixed the sandwich (ham and cheese with mustard on ciabatta...yum yum, but don't eat it cold because it sucks that way). When the food was ready, I took my bag and went to sit down. It wasn't until I was pulling the food out that I saw how my name was spelled and laughed out loud. Muchly. My name as interpreted phonetically by the server? Kiam. Methinks perhaps I have more of an accent than I think.

Fashion

I'm not really sure about clothing these days--I've had trouble finding stuff that I like and that doesn't look as if it were made for a teenager, so I'm much more aware of clothes lately than I had been in the past. So, here in London, it's been rather amusing to see the fashion choices that people make. I know that London is supposed to be on the cutting edge of fashion and trends and about two years ahead of the U.S. in that regard, but honestly, I fail to see anything that great here. I'm going to try to check out TopShop and H&M to look around, but the stuff on the streets has by and large been heinous.

Naturally, since it is London, there are a fair amount of tourists, so I do try to keep their unfortunate appearances from clouding my opinion of Londoners. Some of the more, um, special, tourist moments thus far:

1. a woman who had to be at least my age, maybe older, wearing a wee denim mini--a good six inches above her knee--with leggings. If you are old enough to have worn leggings the first time, then you are too old to be wearing them this time, at least with a mini-skirt, however I could have even forgiven her that had she not been wearing that mini-skirt in about a size 18 or so, which made it look like she had a giant denim box wrapped around her body and, far worse, she had on a very form-fitting tee (I hesitate to say baby tee because I think this one was just a regular tee stretched to the limit) that was one.inch.too.short. There was visible fat roll peeking out from the top of the skirt--actually protruding is more like it. It was just horrid.

2. Loads upon loads of white boots. I think every European in the UK is wearing some form of atrocious white ankle (or just a bit higher) boots.

3. a backless halter with a skirty bottom on another person over the age of 20 and over 140 pounds.

4. fishnets with some sort of patterned hose under them. I thought it was leg hair at first.

5. shiny things. Lots of silver belts, gold hairclips, and other accessories all with fake shiny finishes.

We're headed to Covent Garden today, so there should be a boatload of other fashion crimes to witness.

cary from ut, not cary from ot....

go read my london blog. you'll think i'm insane. its in the blogroll.

Random Songs From My Playlist #1

inspired by HD and his # photos :-).

I do love All American Rejects.

Dirty Little Secret

Good Friends, Sappy Post

I've been thinking a lot this weekend and it has dawned on me that I am blessed to have a multitude of fantastic friends in all facets of my world. I don't really appreciate it nearly enough most of the time--I just take it for granted, and I shouldn't. I have a tendency to overlook those friends who are from a long time ago or those who aren't "real" people, just online sometimes, and that's bad because no matter how little I see them, they are still friends and I am one of the absolute luckiest people alive in the friend department.

• Friends who will take my kids to and from school.
• Friends who will cover my classes for me.
• Friends who will let me show up and spend the night with them without much warning.
• Friends who will ride around aimlessly just to cruise and talk.
• Friends who share hashbrown casserole with me.
• Friends who correct my grammar and spelling when needed.
• Friends who appreciate geeky grammar and literature moments as much as I do.
• Friends who cheer with me when the evil bookkeeper and Bubblehead leave school.
• Friends who will sit and shred dumb people mercilessly.
• Friends who will banter back and forth in a thread about nothing for 100 posts just because.
• Friends who cheer on my most mundane accomplishment.
• Friends who drink with me.
• Friends who sit in the rain with me and drink.
• Friends who get the inside jokes and appreciate them.
• Friends who know exactly the right things to say to me, whether it's, "You're right" or "You're crazy" or "Damn it, Kim".
• Friends who appreciate good hair days.
• Friends who share their lunch with me.
• Friends who have known me forever and still like me.
• Friends who loathe stupid people as much as I do.
• Friends who share their good concert seats with me.
• Friends who can pick up conversation after years like we saw each other yesterday.
• Friends who worry about me more than I worry about myself.
• Friends who get more excited for me over events in my life than I ever could.
• Freinds who get frustrated with me, but still come back.
• Friends who lend me clothes.
• Friends who never say, "I told you so", even when it's due.
• Friends who teach me things.
• Friends who debate with me.
• Friends who make me think.
• Friends who have changed my view of the world.
• Friends who can keep secrets.
• Friends who entertain me.
• Friends who amuse me.
• Friends who inspire me.
• Friends who read my endless, blabby chatter here and other places.

Friends whom I love. Dearly.

Smart, Cool, Hip, Fun People

What do they have in common? They all have blogs. If you don't have one, you must get one. Seriously. All the cool kids are doing it.

Oh, and then go get a myspace so I can have more friends.

Religious Preference

• I do not like it when folks clap and wave their arms in church.
  
• I do not like it when folks shout out "amen" and cheer in church.
  
• I do not like it when hymns turn into jazz numbers.
  
• I do not like it when I have to watch a powerpoint/media presentation for the message.
  
• I do not like it when there are glaring, terrible comma errors in said presentations.
  
• I do not like it when there is a fricking hard-sell, join-Jesus commercial at the end of church.
  
• I do not like it when I feel as if I am in a new scene from The Blues Brothers at church.
  
• I do not like it when I go to the Southern Baptist Church.
  
  Happy Easter.

Just A Reminder Of My Age

I've mentioned it before, but good gods. I stayed up until 1.30 last night (after drinking copious amounts of wine AND eating Krystals at midnight, heaven help me) and slept like the dead until 8.30, but I am still almost comatose from "lack of sleep". This aging thing sucks more and more. How on earth do, ahem, mature adults become functioning alcoholics? I need two days of sleep to recover from one night of drinking. Ridiculous.

Wal Marts Are Curious Places

It matters not where one goes to Wal Mart, one will always run into someone one knows. I saw two friends from high school in less than 45 minutes of Wal Marting.

If You Publish, It Is Visible

For some reason, I keep hitting Save As Draft when I'm trying to blog. Then I'm all surprised when I go to a blog and there is nothing new there. Meanwhile, drafts sit in the dashboard thing, just waiting to see the light of day. I never had this happen in the past. Just recently. So, FYI, hit PUBLISH when you want something to be seen. Otherwise, you're just spinning your blogging tires.

Have I mentioned that I loathe the new Blogger this week?

How Did You Wake Up Today?

I was pulled from a very sound sleep by Jay yelling every mother's favorite words: MOM, I PUKED!

Thinking back, I actually think I heard Jay puke, but I wasn't awake enough to process it. When he screeched his announcement, though, I was suddenly wide awake. I ran to his room to see him kneeling on his top bunk and a big puke puddle visible. He was sort of frantic and I couldn't get him to focus on getting down-he just said he felt weird. He's way too big for me to pick up and pull off the bunk, so he sat there for a few seconds, shaking his head. And then...

More puking.

All over his bed again. And I saw it. Lovely. And he woke Sam up. He felt instantly better, though, and somehow I got the sheet off the corner and he was able to start climbing down. Sam yelped from the bottom bunk that puke had dripped on his head. Moved him to the other end of his bed and worked on getting the sheet off, Jay moved, etc. Jay felt fine after the vomit. No troubles. Rinsed his mouth and I went about setting him up in my bed.

Once he was in, I realized I'd left the light on in their room, so I went to turn it off. Sam was awake and staring at the doorway. I asked him what was wrong. He said, "I can hear puke dripping down on my bed and it is freaking me out." Pleasant. I didn't see it, but sent him on to my bed, too. He got up between W. and Jay and I set about changing my clothes so I could take up residence on the couch. I had the bathroom door closed, when I heard W. yell, "Open the door!" I threw it open and made room for Jay, only to see Sam whizzing in and hanging over the toilet. About the time Jay said, "He's just faking", Sam unleashed.

More puking.

The volume was incredible considering the child only ate one slice of pizza and drank maybe one glass of milk. I was rather dumbfounded. I was also very proud. Sam is such a good puker; there was barely any mess on the toilet. I've trained him well. Once he was done, he rinsed and wiped and declared himself better.

So now, 45 minutes and three pukes later, I'm lying on the couch and W. and the two spewers are back in my room sleeping, hopefully. They both ate meatlovers pizza from Papa John's for dinner last night. As I left the room, I asked W. if he ate any of theirs. He didn't answer. It dawned on me when I settled in that I did eat the toppings off of one piece. Am hopeful that my rapid digestive system has somehow been spared--I think I would have already been sick by now, surely. Hopefully.

Inspired By Buggy

Dear Buggy has finally surfaced online just as I was about to start worrying about her again. She had a good idea, so here goes:

Things You* Don't Know About Me:

*you meaning most of you--I can't really keep everything straight from all my circles of friends and such

1. I have lost a ton of weight over the past several months. I have more to go...not much, but enough that I am obsessive about it.
2. Because of the fat thing, I haven't worn my wedding rings in years. Am wearing my solitare as I type right now. It's still a wee bit tight, but it is on, which is more than it would have done this time last year.
3. I can wiggle my ears.
4. My first "serious" (interpret that as you may) boyfriend was two years younger than me. I was 16 at the time. That means he was only a wee bit older than my oldest child is now. I am horrified at the idea of him dating someone so much older.
5. I could easily go the rest of my life without exercising and not feel the slightest bit guilty, but I'd get fat again, so no go.
6. I can eat the same thing for every meal for days on end.
7. I hate to cook.
8. I cannot spell worth a damn.
9. I am terrible about keeping in touch with old friends. Simply terrible.
10. I miss the old goofy threads from OT with Buggy, pooh, Dweeze, Fester, landrua, sami, misto and Co. I'm old. Old. Old. Old.

Rejoice!

I have found the remote. As I ranted yesterday, I was most likely sitting on the damn thing. It was ever-so-trickily wedged under two cushions, so when I looked under one, it was masked by the other. When I finally dragged both cushions off at the same time, there it was. Innocently lying there amongst the crumbs and small toys.

I am most pleased--now I can watch The Tudors, which I recorded last night, today.

Request

If you have any fucking idea where the fucking remote to my ficking DVR/cable is, could you please fucking tell me where the fuck I might look because I've fucking turned the fucking sunroom the fuck upside down and I can't fucking find the fucker anyfuckingwhere. Needless to say, I'm fucking pissed because I just had it in my own fucking hand last night when I fucking recorded Mean Girls to fucking watch tofuckingday and now I can't because the fucker has disappeared into the fucking black hole that is our fucking mess of a fucking house.

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.