Saturday, June 30, 2007
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Oh for crying out Loud. You must all think I'm crazy.
I'll never forget the first time I saw that disturbing little babe. It was 1997...
I had just realized that the guy I was "seeing" (and I use that term VERY loosely!!!) was using me as the other woman. (GASP!! I KNOW!! All women scorned as the other woman are screaming for the blood of this Punk, but please for the sake of my story, let's hold off... if only for a moment...) Needless to say, I was furious and completely devastated. (Why I ever let myself get so attached to such a Playa I'll never know. Oh if only I could go back in time--this is the one thing in my life I would change. I would stand up for myself and for my future husband. Ah well, God is good and forgiving. We are both happily married now--to other people, so it's all water under the bridge.)
Anyway... back to the baby. This particular Cassanova had lied to me for the last time and I had just told him as much. I told him that I didn't ever want to talk to him, see him, or hear from him again. You know what, I was completely serious. I wanted nothing to do with him ever again.
I sat at the computer after having this heated conversation in a total daze. I was trying not to cry, because I had also just vowed to never cry over another boy again, but the tears came anyway. My pesky brother came in at that precise moment. At the time, we were still very close. I don't know this for sure, but I like to believe that he knew what had just happened and out of the goodness of his heart came to comfort me.
So in strolls my brother and says, "Melis! You have got to see this!"
"Josh! I'm not in the mood!"
"But Melis, this is going to make you laugh so hard."
"I don't want to laugh."
"Yes you do."
"No! I don't!"
"Ok, but you need to laugh! Sit! You're going to watch this."
And then he played this for me...
I tried so hard not to smile, but I just couldn't help myself. Before I knew it I was laughing, and it wasn't long before I had completely forgotten about the Playa. My tears of devastation over that Punk had turned into tears of bliss over this disturbing little baby.
"Thanks, Josh. I did need that."
"I thought so."
"Love you too. Now where is he so I can go kick his butt?"
Ok, so he didn't say that last part about kicking The Playa's butt, because, well, he was friends with him. But he did make me feel better and I have always remembered how he came in just when I needed to be reminded that laughing solves most problems in this world. He also reminded me not to hate The Playa, hate the Game. I wish I could say that I did just that. Hated the Game, not The Playa, but I didn't. I really hated him--for years I did.
But like I said before, we are both happily married with children and lives we love, so it's all water under the bridge, even if you never admit what happened, you Punk. I know and more importantly God knows....
Ooga chaka... ooga chaka...
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
I'm sure it will come as no surprise to anyone that my absolute favorite website on the WWW is Amazon.com. Oh, Jesus, help me be strong! So I'm sure you assume that I would want to choose my beloved Amazon for the very first Website Wednesday, but you must hear me out as to why I lost the right to honor this beautiful website in the way in which it deserves.
Let me tell you the story...
As you know, I love to read and I adore the ease that Amazon offers me to shop books. One of my greatest loves in life! As of late, I have exercised the "Buy now with1-Click" button far too much. I have no idea to what it is connected--a credit card perhaps or a money tree in Idaho--I don't know and I didn't care. All I know is that when I press that glorious button, a receipt is sent to my email inbox with a promise that my beautiful new friend will soon be on its way to me. And lo and behold, in a few days time, my precious new book arrives in my mailbox, just begging me to unwrap it and lovingly spend the next several hours with it until I have devoured it sometimes more than once.
I had come to realize that I have become far to liberal with that wicked 1-Click button, especially when I would receive many, many, too many receipts in my inbox. It was then that I realized I was sliding down a slippery slope. So I did what any addicted person would do... I created a wish list. I thought it would be a wonderful way for me to shop and "buy" without using that naughty 1-Click button.
But by that time, I had accumulated a lengthy library of unread books just begging to be held and caressed. So that is what I did. Last week I binged on my delicious little books. They made me stay up till the wee hours of the morning most nights, to the point that my poor neglected husband begged me to put them down and come to bed with him. Normally I would jump into bed with him and have no more thoughts about anything but him, but not last week. It frustrated him to no end.
Finally one night I promised him that I would not stay up all night reading, but as I crawled into bed around 3am, he said simply, "I thought you said you wouldn't do this to me again." His voice was thick with sleep and the knife that was thrust into my heart went deep, twisted, and plunged in ever farther until I thought surely it was going to be the end of me. You said you wouldn't do this to ME again!
What had I done? My precious husband! I had clearly replaced him and never thought twice about it. There was nothing I could do about it then, but the next morning I rose early even though I had only gotten a few hours sleep. I tried apologizing but he just said that I needed to be done with my books. I said I would be.
Funny thing... I went to that wicked temptress Amazon and suddenly I began receiving receipts in my inbox. Oh dear! How did they get there? You pesky little 1-Click button. You are so naughty! You are sure to be the end of me.
I found out that evening what the 1-Click button was attached to--our checking account. My husband had know all along of my indescresions, but hoped I would stop on my own. He told me in no uncertain terms that I was to be done with that pesky 1-Click button and with that naughty Amazon! I was to have no more contact with either of them. I agreed that I would take a break. He said, "No! You are to be done with them. Is that clear?" He was deadly serious! Oh my... done?... for how long?... he wouldn't take them away forever, would he?
I was too scared of the answer to the question I longed to ask. How long? So I remained silent, hoping that in time he would grow to see that I am a changed woman and I could handle a few books every now and then. So I agreed. What else could I do? I love my husband and I knew that he was not joking at all. It had truly been a knife that cut me deep that night he told me I said I wouldn't do that to him again. He was through with it all. Time will only tell...
Oh my beloved Amazon and precious 1-Click, how I have abused you. Please forgive me. We will be together again in time, but first I must honor my vow of abstinence with you for this time of great testing. Please know this, dear Amazon and 1-Click, my love for you never wains even though we have to be separated. ...sigh...
So as you can see I cannot under any circumstances acknowledge the very thing that has become the third member of my marriage. I cannot tell you all the wonderful things about Amazon. I cannot tell you how it has everything under the sun. I can't describe to you the ease with which one can maneuver through its vast pages of anything you could need or want. I cannot speak of the great wonder that is the 1-Click button. I cannot. Hush now!
Instead I will share with you a site that is relatively new to me and I quickly fell in love with it. Since finding it a couple weeks ago, I have visited often, though never participating with it beyond repeated thorough perusals. (Some vices should not be tempted beyond what I KNOW I can handle--it's not wise).
So for now, I only allow myself to look. (Heaven help my checkbook if I start to partake of these delectable goodies. I am beginning to wonder if my constant "looking" is healthy or if it will inevitably lead me to taste that which I cannot have.) Oh but the sheer beauty of it all is breath-taking.
Lord, help this weak woman! My husband will not be kind if he should find another love threatening to usurp his place as the object of all my affections.
It is my hope that by sharing this site with you, I can avert a sneaky tryst with it. If I share my love with you then it is not mine to covet. So here you are...
Oh glorious shoes, you beacon me with your lovely heels. Stop it! Stop it, now! It cannot be! Not now! Not ever. I have but one love and he is jealous!
But just look at what can be had...
I am a weak woman...
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Jimmy served in the U.S. Navy during World War II. For many years, Jimmy worked as a Beta Fish for Petco, Bel Air, MD, and later retired to The Ball Room.
Survivors include Scott, Melissa, and Natalie Ball.
Services will be at 11 a.m. Thursday at The Ball Room Kitchen, North East. Flushing will follow at the The Powder Room. Visitation will be from 4 p.m. until 8 p.m. Wednesday at The Living Room, 10 Hickory Dr., North East, and again from 10 a.m. until time of services Thursday at the The Kitchen. There will be a prayer service at 7:30 p.m. Wednesday at The Ball Room.
Monday, June 25, 2007
Here we go...
You've read my other posts about See Jane Work, this fantastic website for the OCD woman. Seeing as I am slightly OCD about some things (ask the Music Man what the volume level of any stereo system in my presence has to be to keep from sitting in a corner repeating over and over the numbers from Lost... 4 8 15 16 23 42...), my first product plug just had to be from this amazing site!
(I so need this item!!!)
You packed her lunch last night, put her shoes and backpack by the door, and you were just about to get your 2nd grader to school on time for the second day in a row when you realized you might have to call a cab because your car keys had vanished into thin air.
Avoid the frustration of missing keys, lost cell phones and forgotten lists with the sturdy, canvas Doorganizer. Hang it on the front door to keep your keys, sunglasses and shopping list nearly impossible to miss, and hang one on your office door to keep your PDA and mobile phone in easy reach. A strip on the back can hold paperwork, notepads and mail.
They’re also great for keeping kids organized. Hang one from the bedroom door to keep handheld toys, music players and homework right where they can find them.
Measures approximately 12” x 5”
Taken from the See Jane Work description.
And the best part is that it comes in four amazing colors. There's bound to be at least one that will fit nicely with your decor. I think I'll take the red one!
Saturday, June 23, 2007
(I apologize for not having the actual video on here, but Blogger is not cooperating with me today. Just click on the picture.)
My Montage 6/22/07
Thursday, June 21, 2007
For I have lost much.
Today is not yet tomorrow,
Though tomorrow may be as such.
It should have been different,
It should have been the same.
It should have been a lot of things,
None of which are real.
My arms are empty,
My stomach is flat.
My heart is aching,
My mind is reeling.
I have nothing.
No life growing.
No date to look to.
No promise of what I want.
All I have is a song for the One in whom I trust.
I rejoice in His love, for it knows no bounds.
All I have is in Him.
My life, my breath, my love.
My song is one of blind faith.
I have nothing else to give.
I choose to praise His name,
For He has given me a reason to live.
The hardest song to sing is the one in which we bare our soul.
We expose the nakedness of what lies there.
Holding nothing back we are made whole,
In spite of all that we share.
Today is a day of rejoicing,
For I have hope enough to praise.
Today is not yet tomorrow,
Though tomorrow is a new day...
Saturday, June 16, 2007
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Anyway, some of our favorite memories of our early years together took place in our first apartment. We lived on 56th Ave in Stettin (a part of Wausau). We had an upstairs corner unit that over looked a horse farm across the street. All of our windows either faced this horse farm or looked out over wooded areas. It was wonderful.
We had so much fun those two years that we lived there! Just last night we were talking and reminiscing about those good times. When I think about it, there are about 4 or 5 memories that always come back first.
- The time Scott slapped me across my belly, through my shirt, and left a red handprint that lasted for 5 hours. (No he's not a wife-beater and never was... we were rough-housing in the kitchen--Funny thing about newlyweds.)
- The time that a bunch of Scott's friends came over to play Xbox and our heat went crazy. It was like 200 degrees in our tiny apartment and the living room was filled with boys in various states of undress. They were loud, stinky, and demanding--but I loved every minute of it.
- The time the storm came into our bedroom and the fan fell out of the window onto Scott and the lightening blinded us and I couldn't stop screaming.... good times.
- The time Scott ripped the tv cord out of the wall and put it in the other room in the middle of the night and then we rearranged the pictures on the wall until 4am.
- The time I put a marshmallow in Scott's shoe. That's the one I'm going to tell you today...
One day I was making rice krispies treats to take for my treat day at the afore mentioned bank when the urge to throw a marshmallow at Scott totally overcame me. Who doesn't feel that when they look at Scott?! But, I opened up a can of worms with that idea. Scott used to be more playful too before he got all dedicated to his job and serious about life, so he whipped it right back at me. Thus started The Great Marshmallow War of 2002. (This may have been when he slapped my belly [#1]).
We proceeded to throw marshmallows at each other for a while. Scott eventually got bored and went back to watching TechTV, which at the time was pretty cool. I wasn't done yet, so I took a marshmallow and put it in his favorite pair of shoes. (I never knew when to stop with him. I have learned over the years.) I figured he would feel it as soon as he put it on in the morning and get a good laugh out of it.
Yeah, he didn't feel it. He walked around the whole day with that silly marshmallow in his shoe! When he got home later that night, he complained about how uncomfortable his shoes were that day and he couldn't figure out why. It took everything that I had in me to keep a straight face. (I had had the best day ever knowing that he was walking around with that marshmallow in his shoes. I kept picturing him at his desk, taking off his shoes to see what was in his shoe and finding the big marshmallow I had left for him.)
But he never took of his shoes until he was home. And when he did, he pulled out his foot and the toes of his socks were covered in this milky, sticky, stinking goo. (Oh my gosh! This was so perfect!) He reached his hand in the shoe (Yes! Yes! Yes!) and felt around. He pulled out his hand and it too was covered in a milky, sticky, stinky goo. (I couldn't have planned this any better!) He was completely bewildered! He just sat there on the bed baffled and asking me what in the world I thought it was. (It was about this time that I realized, that in spite of my pure delight in the turn of events, my dear husband was not that playful and would most likely be furious with me. Uh oh!)
I started to laugh--not really because I thought it was funny anymore, but because I knew he was going to kill me, but I couldn't stop now--this was still too much fun. I said, "You know, Honey, it kind of smells like a marshmallow." It was then, that I watched his handsome face change from that cute baffled expression to denial that his dear new bride would do such a thing to understanding and acceptance to pure revenge. That was my cue to start running! And run I did... all over that little house, screaming the whole way. My dear sweet hubby was indeed furious with me and after my cute bum. (I think the handprint from above could have easily happened at this time too.)
I don't remember how the whole thing was resolved, but every time I make rice krispies treats, Scott check his shoes for any lost marshmallows.
I do believe that I won that war, hands down!
(This morning I told him that I was going to write about "the marshmallow" today. He just looked at me and shook his head. Some wounds take a looooooonnnnnggggg time to heal!)
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Who do you prefer to host Blue's Clues?
Apparently a while back there was a rumor that Steve was dead. He wasn't. You really can't believe everything you hear. Hello?! Don't you watch Mythbusters marathons every weekend with your husband? You don't? Really? Strange!
This is a debate -- Steve vs. Joe -- that has been raging on the web for years, so while I have been a trend-setter/trail-blazer in many ways, I guess I'm just jumping on the bandwagon with this one.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
He told me that he had finally found the root of this intense fear of the Incredible Hulk. He had seen him on Mr. Rogers. (Of all places!!!) He then told me that after a bit of research he discovered scientific studies about kids being traumatized by the Incredible Hulk, or more specifically... the Developmental Differences in Responses to The Incredible Hulk: Using Piaget's Theory of Cognitive Development to Predict Emotional Effects
This is the video that scared him to death and scarred him for life...
I'm sorry, Honey, but I just don't get it.
Thursday, June 07, 2007
I just finished climbing ALL the stairs in my house 17-ish times, and I wasn't trying to exercise. As you may recall, we have just a few stairs in our house... My laundry room is in the basement, so I was already run up and down doing a couple of loads of laundry. After switching out the last loads and folding the freshly washed clothes, I sat down to finish my book (mmm...Redeeming Love...my favorite!!!)
With that finished and my heart all cried out, I decided to do something crafty. Well, sort of... I'm just framing some pictures for my bedroom. Some of my things were obviously in my bedroom, (the empty frames that had been hanging on my wall since the end of January), some were on the main level in the living room, and still more was in the basement.
So away I went...upstairs to get the frames... down to the basement to get the mats... while down there I grabbed the pictures some paper and a gluestick... back upstairs for my scissors... back down to the basement for the mats I had originally gone down for... back up to my room to get my phone which I had left up there on my last visit... and finally back down to the living room to write this post, watch some HGTV, and frame my pictures.
As I was running up and down all those stairs I kept marveling at the fact that I wasn't getting winded at all. Just shy of a year ago when we moved in here my legs hurt for days and I dreaded having to go up and down them. I don't even think about it anymore. My legs never hurt, even when I've been gone for a couple days. I've conditioned my self to having 18 million stairs. (Only a slight exaggeration.) I used to think the amount of stairs in this house was out of control (just keep reading--my thoughts on my steps are all the way at the bottom), but I'm grateful for them, because they've made me stronger---literally.
A friend of mine once told me AFTER I had delivered Natalie that walking steps would have helped me do better in labor and delivery! She also tried to feed me this soup that was supposed to make my breastmilk come in more, but all it did was make me vomit. I'm sure she was totally right about the steps and the soup, but I wasn't in any frame of mind at the time to believe her. If she could see me now, I know what she'd say... she'd say in her cute Chinese accent, "Melissa, your next babies are just going to fall out because of all these stairs!" Let's just pray they do, my friend, let's pray they do!
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
Thursday, June 07, 2007 Scott told me last night that this is his favorite post yet. He said it made him laugh hard. Coming from my husband... that's a heck of a compliment! I asked him why he didn't post it in a comment and document his feelings for the whole world to see. He just laughed and went back to watching tv. I guess not everyone is cut out for blogging.
I woke up a few minutes ago thinking about young punks. Young Punks, you ask? When I was first married, I got a job working as a bank teller at the East Side branch of Peoples State Bank. I worked there for just over two years before I got pregnant and "retired". While working there I had the opportunity to work with some amazing women, an ever chipper loan officer, and met some very colorful characters. Looking back on it today, I remember it as some of the most fun I've ever had working at a job day in and day out.
Allison was a large part of why I had so much fun. She was another teller who had been working there for about a year before I came. Being a year younger than me, she was as playful as I was and was always up for playing a game. (Hey, banking ain't all it's cracked up to be. Things often got down right boring.) As I type this, so many memories are coming back to me. I have to remember to tell you more stories later...
Back to Allison and young punks. When currency gets old and worn out, we as tellers were supposed to "sell" it to the vault, and the vault would in return sell it to the Federal Reserve where they sort it, send it to Secret Service, where they pulverize and bury it. Bury it? Yes, bury it. They used to burn it, but because of the lead in the ink they now just bury it.
Ok, really now... back to young punks... this old money was often disgusting--well actually all currency is disgusting in my opinion. That's why I try not to use it at all costs! But anyway, this old money was seriously disgusting, often times near falling apart and absolutely filthy (remind me sometime to tell you about the Pink Eye Epedemic), but Allison and I decided to make a game with that old, worn out money. We collected it as it came in and we would even buy it from other tellers just for this game.
We were working in the drive thru at the time. We had already termed young, cocky, barely-old-enough-to-drive, chip-on-their-shoulders, bigger-than-their-britches kids as Young Punks, and that was just what they were--YOUNG PUNKS!
So Allison and I decided that these were the perfect recipients for our old, nasty money. It was our way of sticking it to them for just having to deal with cashing their measly little paychecks from Blockbuster and Gamestop. We began to sneak one or two bills into their wads of cash and slowly became more daring giving them more and more of these old bills, which we were now calling Young Punk Money (YPM).
Allison was the best at handing out this YPM. She didn't care who it was after a while--she gave it to everyone, even little old ladies who were getting their weekly allowance for the casinos. It was so fun to watch her. She was so sweet about it, except to the Young Punks. When dealing with them you had to have an "I don't care" attitude so they wouldn't walk all over you.
But seriously now, I woke up this morning thinking about those Young Punks we gave that old, crappy money to. Hmmm... I wonder where they are today. Do you suppose they are the managers of Blockbuster and Gamestop or are they in med school or even worse yet--working for the Secret Service to hunt down those nasty bank tellers who gave them old, nasty, YPM that should have been pulverized and buried? Wow!!! That's a very scary thought.
Young Punks, I'm sorry for giving you that old, icky money, but hey, you made many of my days so very difficult and handing you that, filthy, disgusting money gave my days a certain amount of joy. So I guess, we should be ok then.
I know you are wondering what ever happened to Allison. Well, she got pregnant about the same time I did and went to work for some Insurance company across town. She delivered an adorable baby boy, Jakob one week before I had Natalie. She and I still keep in touch to this day.
Sometimes, when Natalie is particularly driving me crazy I think back to those times at the bank, and wish, just for a moment, that I was back there passing out YPM again with Allison. :::sigh::: Then I remember why I left--they paid me crap, wanted me to treat the customers with money better than my friend Bob Kucher, and I really did hate it, even with all the fun I had with Allison.
So go out and give a Young Punk some crappy old money today and tell them that it's because of them this money is still in circulation.
Tuesday, June 05, 2007
His given name is Joshua Steven. Joshua after my brother, his dad, and Steven after my dad (middle name), but everyone has always called him Bubby. (Kinda like how we all called my brother Buddy until... well, I guess we never stopped calling him that, but it did morph into Jubs somewhere along the way and that went to Kwubbs--Don't ask, and finally my sister and I settled on LittleGuy.) Back to Bubby. Leith, my niece was barely a year old when he was born, so when she would say "brother," bubby is what came out. The name has stuck. Poor kid will be 25 and I'll still call him Bubbalicious.
Anyway, here are a few shots from last week of my favorite little man and his peeps...
This was his toy of the week. He played that thing for what seemed like hours.
Both of these little outfits are ones my brother wore as a baby. I remember seeing pictures of him in these, especially the blue one...in fact, I think I have one...
This picture was taken a couple months ago by my sister. She had given him this tshirt and I think it fits him very well. Watch out girls, this one's going to break your heart!
Just so you all know, this is what Bubby will most likely end up looking like...
My brother will forever be the pesky Little Guy of my youth, but I love him in spite of himself. And I love my LittlestLittleGuy!!!
The banner was remarkably easy to create in Photoshop (as long as my tech-y hubby was close at hand). A few clicks here and there and I had a brand spankin' new banner that was just ME! You can be sure that I will be learning and playing with it alot more.
So take some time to check it all out. I will be adding more treasures as I can. Don't forget to check back each week just for the photo of the week. It will be worth it, I promise. I have a whole arsenal of fun pictures of my family and friends. You'll never know who you'll find there.