What the....

So, lately I’ve had quite a bit going on and haven’t had much that I felt I could post about. I still won’t go into depth with those things, but I would like to share some of the crazy things that I’ve heard/dealt with in the past few weeks.

First I will tell you about the phone call that I received on Friday morning. This is how the conversation went.

Riiiiinnnnngggg
Me: “Good morning. Journal. How can I help you?”
Caller: “Hello?!...Hello?!...Hell-o!?”
Me: (a little louder) “Good morning. Journal. How can I help you?”
Caller: “Who is this??”
Me: (even a little louder, and impatiently…I might add) “THIS IS THE JOURNAL, HOW CAN I HELP YOU!!!”
Caller: “Is _____ there??”
Me: “He is, but he’s on the other line.”
Caller: “Will he be in this afternoon.”
Me: “Yes, sir! He IS HERE right now, he’s just on the other line.”
Caller: “he’s on the other what?”
Me: (really losing any remaining patience I had) “I said he’s on the other line. He’s talking to someone else on the other phone line!”
Caller: “Oh, I’m sorry…my reception is bad. I just dropped my phone in the commode a few minutes ago.”

……………????????? I will say here that I am not knocking the man for dropping his phone in the toilet…I’ve done it myself. But I deemed mine un-useable after that, just on principle.

Have I ever mentioned that my dad is a completely shameless redneck, and he’s never gonna change??

So,…we were sitting there watching Hee-Haw tonight. Yes, you read right…Hee-Haw. We have/are forced to watch it every Sunday night at 8 p.m. on the RFDtv channel (…unless we boot-scoot out to the additional room and watch that tv). RFDtv is proof that God is still working on me. He’s “helping” me work on my patience for sure (plus, I’m sure this gives Him a laugh once a week). Frankly, every time Hee-Haw comes on I have the sudden urge to find a plastic knife and slit my wrists. But I digress…. We were watching Hee-Haw, the dumbest show in the history of Television, when Dad pulls out his dentures and starts looking at them. He says, and I quote, “I think I have a cavity.” Ummmmmmmmmmmmmm……..ok, dad. I swear to goodness….

Oh, and we got a note sent to us from the funeral home. It started out “You’re at a crossroads in your life…” I think my response as my mom sat in front of me reading it was “What the HELL are they sending that for?” Classy, I know. All I could think is…they sure are trying to recruit people early, aren’t they.

BTW, the past two nights I’ve fallen asleep in the living room, only to wake up about 3:30 and stumble back to my room. Well, last night, my sister went to sleep wearing a hoodie because she was so cold. Well, at about 3 a.m., as I was sleeping sitting up on the couch, my sister stood in front of me and shook my knee to wake me up. I looked up and saw a hooded figure standing over me and freaked. I won’t write here the words that came out of my mouth…but y’all can imagine. She scared me so bad that the coffee mug sitting in my lap nearly got flung at her. I think we both learned a lesson with this.

Slacker Men

Ok…so I’ve been thinking about this a lot. When did chivalry actually die? And why are there just a WHOLE lot of slacker guys out there now?

I was discussing this with Merle and KW the other night. Although I know of a few that are still “gentleman,” there aren’t that many. You know, a few years ago I was standing in the grocery store when a guy came up and cussed in front of me (before I started using a few four-letter words myself). Well, a friend stepped up and said something to the effect of “Watch your mouth, we have a lady present.” How sweet is that? Opening doors, pulling out your chair, etc…what happened to all that??? I’m beginning to think that there are a lot of slacker men out there.

KW recently came up with a very good idea of 5 must-haves in a guy. Here they are (to the best of my knowledge): 1) He must not be married. 2) He must have a job. 3) He must have his own place. 4) He must have a vehicle. 5) He must not be addicted to any substance (alcohol or otherwise). You know what the sad part is??? MOST guys don’t qualify. What is with this? O.M.G. Really??

What is with the guys who a) don’t take responsibility for their actions, b) don’t mind that they have NO ambition to get ahead in life, and c) are content with walking around in a drunken fog all the time? And I swear, if I EVER get hit on by a convicted felon, a man mooching off of the government by being on disability when he COULD work, a fifty + year-old man, or a foreigner that can’t say anything in English besides “can I have your number?”…I’m going to scream.

Slacker men, I tell you, slacker men (she says while shaking her head and rolling her eyes).

Thankful

You know,…this week has been a tough one. Stressful beyond belief. In fact, I said to my Hannie earlier in the week “I just don’t think I’m strong enough to deal with all of this.” Well, God gave me the strength and I pulled through. I would like to say thank you to all that prayed for me and my family this week. We are far from out of the woods, so your continued prayers are much appreciated.

I’ve thought on this and thought on this. Sometimes we can only try to make the best of bad situations and learn from them. After having my stomach just fall to the floor on Sunday night, I’ve thought about how much I take for granted. Maybe this is God giving me an opportunity to start seeing and being thankful for everything I’m given each day.

So here is what I’m thankful for this week: I am thankful to have the parents that I have and my sister; I’m thankful that I see them each day; I’m thankful that I got to go out with some of my “besties” this week (which got my mind off things for a little while); I’m thankful that KW and I had a wonderful trip last weekend; I’m thankful that I got to see a lot of the older people that I have come to dearly love up there; I’m thankful for the nice people we met on Tuesday; and I am very thankful for all the prayers that were sent up for us this week; and finally I’m thankful for my friends that were there to support and comfort me this week. **I will add here that I absolutely HATE crying in front of people. So I have to say that I am very grateful that a certain guy friend that came to my rescue and made me feel all better on a day when I was ready to crawl in a hole. He knew just what to say when I needed it the most. :)

So, in summation, I am very thankful. People keep saying “take it one day at a time.” Well, that’s great and all (completely ludicrous for a worrier like myself), but I think I’d rather take time each day to make a list of things I’m thankful for. Maybe that’ll keep me centered…and keep me from pulling my hair out…and from the straightjacket. Hehe.

One final thing…I am LOVING this weather. I realize it’s Florida…and bound to change in a day or two. But it’s SO nice! Hot chocolate, warm pajama bottoms,....ooooh....loving it.

A small request

I'm writing this to ask a small request. I ask that whoever reads this will pray for me and my family.

I got home from vacation last night, only to have my world shaken up a bit. Anyone that knows me or has read any of my blogs will know that I don't handle stress well...at ALL. So, please, just say a simple little prayer for us.
Thanks,
Aleta

The Scary Pea and Caramel Popcorn

I was told this morning that I was “one of three peas in a pod…and it’s a very scary pod.” Nice, huh? I laughed and laughed. My Hannie cracks me up.

So, I tried to bake last night. My mom absolutely hates when I’m in “her” kitchen. :) Apparently I’m a messy cook. Not only that, but it never fails. I ALWAYS screw up the recipe. Somehow, I always manage to forget some very important ingredient (should I chalk that up to not fully reading the recipe??).

Last night was no different. I had my mind made up to make some goodies (fall favorites) for some of my favorite people. And OH, how cute they would be in mason jars, with fall fabric at the top with a gold ribbon. Sounds good, right? Well, I looked through some recipes and decided that I was going to make pumpkin cakes, puppy chow, and caramel popcorn.

The first big flop was finding the mason jars that I had bought. I only found 5 of the 12. How this happened, I will never know.

I started the caramel popcorn as soon as I got home yesterday (I will mention here that “Supervising Cynthia Kay” wasn’t home…so maybe I can blame the first bad batch on her). In this batch, I forgot the vanilla flavoring and the baking soda. Oops….Those shouldn’t have been super important ingredients, right?? According to mom (via cell phone) they were… But still, the result was still very yummy.

The second batch, had the prettiest color. We popped that pan in the oven and in just an hour, our pretty popcorn had turned into bitter-tasting burnt popcorn balls. This batch was thrown in the trash.

The third batch, I realized (after I had put it in the oven) that I had forgotten to half the vanilla in it (I was making ½ a batch, rather than the full amount…so it’d be easier to manage). So it TOO came out bitter tasting.

After all my sampling, and cooking, I am quite sure that if I ever see, smell, taste, cook, etc. caramel popcorn again it will be entirely too soon.

Meanwhile, the puppy chow was super simple to make. And for me, not nearly as messy as I had thought it would be. The problem…it made far less than what I had thought.

Even though I had some problems (a lot of problems actually), I did end up bagging up a little bit of the popcorn (from the first batch, I might add, that had been made with a few errors and without supervision). And the mason jars turned out SUPER cute.

So, my attitude is now…If my favorite people get a pumpkin cake and/or puppy chow and/or possibly one of the jars of popcorn, they damn well better be happy and feel loved because it will probably be a while before I step back into my mama’s kitchen.

Aleta's Mini Manual

You know, as I am getting older, I’m starting to realize more about who I am as a person. I’m accepting all the craziness, and realizing that (when you look at both sides of my family) I really never had a chance to be normal.

Therefore, I am going to put my first installment to the Aleta’s Mini Manual, for those close to me. This way, you’ve had fair warning on 1) how to perk me up, 2) how I am, and 3) my peculiarities.

Aleta’s Mini Manual (first of many installments)

1). How to perk me up.—for when I am sad or just plain having a bad day.

a) Offer to throw something, hurt, or give evil glares at anyone that’s either pissed me off or hurt me.
b) Tell me I’m not a bad person.
c) Make me laugh
d) Tell me I won’t always be alone.
e) For the heck of it, tell me I look pretty.
f) Pass me a drink.

These things pretty much cover all the bases.

2). How I am

a) I’m not good in an actual crisis. If someone is really hurt, or something tragic has happened, I’m probably not the one that can help you. I’ll freak out.

b) I’m prone to being bitchy, anxiety, panic attacks, and smart ass-icism.

c) I hate when people continue to talk to me when it is evident that I’m not listening or just don’t care.

d) I love men that can actually sing. I used to give guys credit for trying, now I just shake my head at them.

e) One thing can piss me off in the beginning of the day and I’ll be mean the rest of the day.

f) I don’t like to drive. Especially in the city. And I have the worst case of road rage…ever.

g) My language is really, really bad. Though I try to control my tongue, it would literally take a muzzle for me to stop.

h) I have no patience.
i) I’m very much a creature of habit.
j) Sometimes I push people away if I think that I’m getting too close to them.

3). My peculiarities

a) I have to check the stove, oven, toaster, and my hair straigtener 4 times (to make sure they are turned off/unplugged) before I will leave my house.
b) I listen to Christmas music year-round.
c) I am “broke-d-ded” (as my mom calls it). I try to find something funny in every sad story that is told to me or in every sad situation. Which can be really bad…and hurt people’s feelings.
d) I won’t watch some of my favorite movies because they are more of a “dramatic” film than a comedy. (once again, I don’t have it in me to handle sad).
e) One of my BIGGEST pet peeves is other people being late.
f) Another Big pet peeve is people that use the same phrases in every conversation. Or use phrases wrong. I want to shake them and be like “NO!”
g) I’m not a fan of people, that I’m not close with, touching me.
h) If I ever hear the 21-gun salute (in movies, shows, or at funerals) I will start crying.
i) I like to watch cartoons.

This is the first installment. Just a few things I’ve learned about myself. There will be more. Be warned :)

Sleepin’ with a switchblade

This is one of those “You might be a redneck…” stories

My sister has takin’ to sleeping with her switchblade. Why, you ask? Apparently a few roads over from ours, a little old lady woke up to a man standing by her bed. When she screamed, he ran away (thank the Lord!). This thoroughly scared my sister. Can you blame her?? So, now she sleeps with her knife in hand (lets pray she doesn’t cut herself). And believe you me, if you wake and startle her, she will cut a b****. :) But really, how sad is it that all this crime has been going on recently?

On that same note, I was telling my friend Sam how I had been having some problems with someone. Her first suggestion…she offered to show me how to use her pistol. Haha. Kidding of course…but seriously. She cracks me up.
You know you’re a redneck…

Saga of Miss Smarty Pants

I’ve decided to start another blog. Mainly due to the fact that I thought of a snazzy new title. I hereby dedicate this blog to every stupid idiot that I happen to come into contact with on a daily basis. This one's for you. I’m also going to put the crazy a** thoughts that pass through my mind everyday. While completely inappropriate most of the time, and not quite “P.C.,” they might just get people thinking…

I give you…. “Saga of Miss Smarty Pants.” (http://sagaofmisssmartypants.blogspot.com/)

--Hopefully, I will be able to post my first post tonight :) But I will continue to write in this blog as well.

My new project

Well, I started making these for Christmas presents, and they turned out so cute that I decided to make them to sell. This is what I've been working on for several weeks now.

This is the "Go-Go Juice Cookbook: Recipes for when your

get-up-and-go has got-up-and-gone."

This is the "Oh Shoot! He stayed the night! Cookbook: Recipes for midnight snacks and breakfast"

"Southern Hospitality: Simple recipes for feeding the masses

when you'd rather jump off a cliff"

"Just Desserts: Forget the meat and potatoes and head straight for the goodies"

These are just fun little cookbooks that I’ve had a blast making. I am going to try to sell them at the Winter Festival in Chiefland on December 6th. But there are a few places that I might try to put them around Chiefland. We will see :) But as soon as I know, I’ll post it on here. Each of them have around 20 recipes, so they are not overly big, but they are fun.
There are a few others that I’m working on right now. The “Love your curves cookbook: recipes that make your elastic pop and roll,” “All-American Dishes,” “Chocolate: God’s gift to women,” and “The Wild Chick Cookbook: Recipes for the chick-a-tarian” are yet to come.

Letter to Anonymous

To: the boy that could make me smile,

There are some days when I’m fine. I’m happy, I’m busy, and things don't get to me. Then, some days I can’t seem to get you off my mind. Some nights I toss and turn, thinking about you; missing you; and worrying about where you are, who you’re with, and if you’re okay. I do miss you. You were always the one to make me feel like I was someone worth knowing :) and you always made me feel good about myself. They always say “People may not remember what you said, but they will remember the way you made them feel.” This is true. When you were around, a smile rarely left my face. It’s been over a year, and you still pass through my mind every day. I hope you are fine and that life is treating you well. Just know that when you feel that life is knocking you down, there is still someone out there that cares.

Aleta

Warning Labels

Ok, so….Last night, I went to Gainesville with Sami Jo. We ALWAYS find something to laugh about, which is great because I needed it this week. Well, as we were driving to Gainesville last night (we had to go to JoAnne’s and Michaels) Sam told me a story that almost made me pee my pants. –Word of caution here…I have a sick sense of humor….and I LOVE a “homegrown” story.

So, a lady that lives in OUR area caught her face on fire by smoking while using her oxygen tank. ………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

REALLY? (as I sit here shaking my head in shame, yet laughing at her stupidity). What in the h was she thinking?? Has she ever read the warning labels? PLUS, the smoking has probably not been so good to you in your lifetime…hence, YOU BEING ON OXYGEN!

I’m sorry, but this reminded me of Uncle Joe on Madea goes to Jail. Of course, he was smoking marijuana. But I digress….Wouldn’t the story of that lady catching her face on fire make for a great Country song??

Sing this to the tune of Grandma got run over by a reindeer. “Mama got blown up by her oxygen tank…while smoking a cig before her bingo game last night? Some may say those tanks aren’t flammable, but that’s why my mama lost her sight”

Ok, so that’s not the finished product by a long shot…but I’ll keep working on it.

Anyways, I found a website that listed some warnings that REALLY shouldn’t have to be put on products. Too funny. But really, if you think about it, I wonder what idiot MADE them put that warning on the product??

"Do not eat toner." -- On a toner cartridge for a laser printer.---(OK, on this one, I will say that I am that idiot…Recently someone came into the journal wanting to copy an image onto edible paper-to put on a cake-…well, Thank GOD I wasn’t helping her, because I wouldn’t have even thought about the ink being toxic. Could you imagine telling your daughter 10 years down the road that 7 of the 10 people that went to her first birthday party wound up in the hospital for eating toxic ink. I completely don’t laugh at the mother that came into our office though…because I didn’t think of it either :)

"Eating rocks may lead to broken teeth." -- On a novelty rock garden set called "Popcorn Rock."

"For external use only!" -- On a curling iron. (Ummmmmmmmm??????????)

"Warning: This product can burn eyes." -- On a curling iron.

"Do not use in shower." -- On a hair dryer.

"Caution: Do not spray in eyes." -- On a container of underarm deodorant.

"Do not drive with sunshield in place." -- On a cardboard sunshield that keeps the sun off the dashboard.

"May irritate eyes." -- On a can of self-defense pepper spray. (Which reminds me….if people think that I’d be best to not get a tazer…maybe a can of mace would be better??)

"Do not use orally." -- On a toilet bowl cleaning brush.

“Do not use for drying pets." -- In the manual for a microwave oven

"Warning: Do not climb inside this bag and zip it up. Doing so will cause injury and death." -- A label inside a protective bag (for fragile objects), which measures 15cm by 15cm by 12cm.

"Do not use as ear plugs." -- On a package of silly putty. (There have been times in my life that I might have tried this…possibly when in the presence of family members that I don’t like)

"Warning: has been found to cause cancer in laboratory mice." -- On a box of rat poison

"Caution: Remove infant before folding for storage." -- On a portable stroller.

"Wearing of this garment does not enable you to fly." -- On a child sized Superman costume.

"May be harmful if swallowed." -- On a shipment of hammers.

"Do not attempt to stop the blade with your hand." -- In the manual for a Swedish chainsaw.

"Not dishwasher safe." -- On a remote control for a TV.

"For lifting purposes only." -- On the box for a car jack. (JAMS—the group of us that committed our first federal offense together-- knows this for a fact…we attempted to steal a road sign with a car jack when we were 16…didn’t work)

"Always drive on roads. Not on people." -- From a car commercial which shows a vehicle "body-surfing" at a concert. (Tell that to the woman that ran over her husband 7 times, she didn’t get the memo).

"Fits one head." -- On a hotel-provided shower cap box

For more of these, go to http://www.rinkworks.com/said/warnings.shtml They are hilarious. They made my day.

Cornmuffin’s Paranoia and Irritations and crack-loving fish

Ok, so I’ve been watching Flipping Out, a tv show based around a OCD-ridden house flipper. I LOVE Jeff Lewis. The show is completely hilarious. I have decided that I have something in common with Jeff, sadly (other than my mild case of OCD :). This would be my crazy paranoia. Let me fill y’all in.

Although I have not purchased one, I still want to buy myself a tazer. They’re a good thing to have to keep you safe (same with guns). My problem is…I’m afraid that I would become drunk with power and begin threatening to tazer people left and right (such as the kids in that movie theater). Either that, or in a paranoid state, when left by myself I would tazer the first person to walk through my door for fear it was a burglar.

Along those same lines, I’ve considered rigging a video camera in my car, just in the event that my car should ever be vandalized. You just never know when someone will want to key your car or slash your tires, and well, I would like to have proof to bust their butts.

Another thing that makes me a paranoid yuppy would be some of the photos that I refuse to take off of my camera card…not because the picture has sentimental value, either. Y’all know I’ve gotten myself a few enemies over the years, right? Well, I have some photos of people that I keep on my card just in case I should ever go missing or something should happen to me…That way my family would know just who to start questioning and where to start looking.

See, I know that this is not rational thinking…and see if I thought this WAS rational thinking…I would be crazy. But seeing as how I know it’s not rational thinking, I’m not crazy, just slightly paranoid :) Now, does anyone know where I can find a cheap tazer and nanny cam?? hehehe

Now onto my recent irritations…

Switching from Charmin to sandpaper should NOT be the first change you make in this recession. I’m sorry, but I don’t like splinters.

Another cut-back that should not happen would be pushing the a/c up to 95°. I shouldn’t have to sweat like a whore in church while trying to decide which flip flops I want.

And I HATE to go into Walmart and have to push a squeaking buggy around. That irritates me to no end. And I never EVER get a good buggy. Mine always squeaks or rattles or veers to one side. Don’t you have some freakin’ WD40 or would you give ‘em a tire alignment, PLEASE!

Aside from cutbacks, let me move on to people that think I care. If you come into my office, don’t automatically think that just because I’m being paid to help you that I want to hear about your Aunt Sue’s ingrown toenail operation. I really do not care. Today, I listened to a woman talk about these topics (in this order) with no encouragement from anyone in the Journal: State Parks, public enterprise, the FBI, her lack of family, her fancy education, burial plots, how she had a prime burial spot, her love of Old Town, how it was a shame when children die, and how she shares her extra papers with a senior center. I was the one helping her and I SWEAR all I said was “ah-hah” the entire time. And I blatantly laughed at her at one point. She changed her own subjects and just kept going and going. WTH?

Stereotypes in commercials and businesses irritate me. There is a seafood restaurant commercial on tv now that has an incorrect display of Gulf Coast people. Not ALL of the Gulf Coast people have mullets and look like white trash. Also, there is a restaurant in Chiefland (that shall remain nameless) that has every conceivable stereotype of a redneck splattered on the wall. Bleh.

Finally, did y’all know that fish can be addicted to crack?? Interesting, very interesting.

Dreams, Regrets, and Tyler Perry

So, I haven’t blogged in quite some time… I really haven’t had much to write about lately. I’ve been busy; going to dinners here, going to movies there, but nothing extraordinary has happened to give me much to write about lately.

However, I had a strange dream the other night. To shorten this, I will just say that in the dream, I was going to do something that I knew I shouldn’t. It was wrong, and I knew it was wrong, but I was going to do it anyways. -- The reality is, in my real life, I have been considering this…maybe that’s why it wound up in my dream?? (by the way…nothing so serious that it should cause anyone concern) -- Anyways, right before I did it, my old friend Jared showed up at my door and told me not to do it. That it was wrong and that it would disappoint him. It’s so strange how a person that you have gotten out of touch with can come in through a dream and make you reflect on your realities.

As trivial as it seems, the dream got me thinking…so much so that I sat up tossing and turning last night until about 1 a.m. I think sometimes we don’t appreciate the things that we have until they’ve gone. Sometimes, it takes a few years, and we look back and realize that we greatly miss the things that we had in the past. Even some of the people that are close to me don’t realize that sometimes when I’m upset, I push everything and everyone away. Probably not a healthy thing to do…but I do it. That's just a coping (or defense maybe??)mechanism for me, I guess. But in looking back, I miss some of the people from the past that I pushed away.

Despite criticism that someone is sure to provide me with, I will say that some days I look back and truly miss the friendship that I had with Jared. He was my voice of reason, even when I really didn’t want to hear it. I miss the times when Sam, Jared and I would go somewhere and just talk for a few hours. Sometimes those talks would change my outlook on things, and brighten my day. I miss being one of his two hussies. We certainly had our ups-and-downs (to say the least) but looking back…that time spent together did change me. It helped to make me into who I am now, and for that I am eternally grateful. Although some may disagree, and at times I would have thought otherwise myself, Jared really is a good-hearted person and he really does mean well. I do miss him. I know that he will be great at whatever he ends up doing in life... I just hope that one day Sam, Jared and I will be able to have a little reunion, and regain that once great friendship.

I am very fortunate to have regained my friendship with Sam. I think that without her, I would be truly lost. She is my partner-in-crime, and the one that knows just what to say and just when to say it. She doesn’t beat around the bush. She tells me like it is, and makes no excuse for it. Again, although I may not want to hear it…later, I always appreciate it. Sam is the longest friendship that I’ve had outside of my Jarrod. I hope and pray that one day my son or daughter has a friend like her. One would be so lucky.

On a bit of a lighter note, I went to see Tyler Perry’s “I can do bad all by myself.” It was AWESOME! Ok, when the audience is clapping along with the church music in the movie …that should say something. I have to give Tyler Perry this, in almost every Tyler Perry movie religion is mentioned at some point. I’m no saint, but it is refreshing to see that in movies today. And he ALWAYS has a good message. The movie was wonderful.

HOWEVER, if I would have had a weapon in the theater, I would be in jail right now. Somehow we wound up in front of some annoying kids, who thought it was funny to yell down 5 rows to their friends below. We happened to be inbetween these two rows. I lasted about 10 minutes before I handed Krystle my purse and headed down to find the theater boy (what do they call them??). He went up and warned them. Of course, that only stopped them for a little while. AND they started kicking the seats. ERRRRRRRR! I will say that there were a few death glares sent their way and a few explicits yelled out as we were leaving the theater. I pose this question…where in the heck are the parents?? There were some kids in that crew that couldn’t have been over 11…There all by themselves. WTH??

Even though the kids were terrible, I am so glad to have gotten to spend that time with KW. It was fun to just get away for a little while. I think that we both needed that. And the ride home was a riot. My face literally hurt from the laughter. :) Whether it be Cedar Key, Carrabelle, Gainesville, or Crystal River, we always have a good time.

My message to everyone….go see “I can do bad all by myself.” It is WELL worth the money.

Cornmuffin's guide to charming the prettier sex

Last Saturday night the Cranberry and Malibu’s were going down easy, and I was SO excited because I thought, for once, I was going to have an awesome birthday. Before I get too far into this blog, let me explain my birthday curse….Since my 18th birthday party, my parties have kind of went downhill…to say the least. My 18th birthday party was spent watching Crab fishing on the Discovery Channel, not by choice, but because some D.A. at MY party stole MY remote, and talked everyone else into watching that crap. My 19th birthday party, we went to Cedar Key (another favorite place to go) and although there were like 10 people at dinner, I got stuck at the end of the table and felt ignored all night. My 20th wasn’t honestly TOO bad, I just went to dinner with a few friends. My 21st birthday was spent, not at a bar, but at the hospital because my Granny (who shares my birthday) had a heart attack. And my 22nd, well, it was spent at New Smyrna Beach (sounds wonderful doesn’t it??)…battling mono and being nauseated all week.

This year was going to be different. I could feel it in my bones…..Sadly, my bones lied to me, y’all. This birthday was chocked full of crazy crap, none of which is overly thrilling by any means. But, it provided me much to blog about…

This was my very long introduction to the first installment of

Cornmuffin’s guide to charming the prettier sex

Here are a few do’s and don’ts that I came up with after this last weekend, and a few that I’ve thought about for a LONG time.

--Never compliment a girl on their cheeks. (No joke) Even when the girl knows you’re talking about her face cheeks. That’s a case when it DEFINITELY sounded better in your head than when it came out of your mouth.

--Another compliment (though funny from the man that it came from) NOT to use would be “You’re prettier than a speckled pup.” Comparing a girl’s beauty to a dog, may not go over so well depending on the girl :)

--Find something socially acceptable to compliment a girl on…such as her eyes. And a great way to do this is by talking to her, then stopping all of a sudden, and saying “Your eyes are beautiful.” That is sweet. Please make sure, though, that you’re looking above the neck when you stay this statement.

--Don't fart and say "Better out than in."...No explaination needed there.

--If you go over to a girls house, don't take control of a girl's remote control and automatically turn it to a NASCAR race.

--If you don’t understand something that we say, or don’t understand a word that we say…just wing it, pretend like you do. Don’t say “Ooooh, don’t use big words around me.” And please, for the love of Mary, if you don’t know what a word means, don’t use it in a sentence immediately after.

--A good line NOT to use would be “I just got out of prison after being locked up for nine years. I’m looking for a good girl, if you know what I mean?”

--If a girl is very obviously annoyed with you, and happens to be looking off into space. Don’t be the one to ask “Girl, you look like you’re thinking hard, whatcha thinkin’ about?” You may not appreciate the answer. The answer could be any of the following: “I was thinking about 20 ways to run you over with my car and not get caught,” or “I was thinking ‘I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, drop dead,’” or maybe “I was thinking ‘why, oh why, didn’t I just marry the person my parents wanted me to?’”

--And finally, if you come from a town that has a population of less than 1,000 people, you aren’t a damn thug so please put your cap on straight and pick up your “drawwws.”

Now there was one tip for girls that I was reminded of….that is….Don’t go anywhere outside of your house wearing a skirt that you could sneeze in and expose your business. There is NO need for people to have to go everywhere you’ve been sitting or leaning and wipe it down with antibacterial wipes. No joke, y’all, I saw the shortest skirt EVER last weekend.

I'm sure that I will have much more to say about this subject...it's only a matter of time.

Dear God, Please 4-lane that narrow road…

Ok, as I found myself in a bit of a pickle today, I thought of the hypocrite that I’ve become. As with most things, I immediately had to think of something to make me laugh, instead of feeling horribly bad about myself. So, as I was getting into the shower tonight…I thought of a few things. I will say, that not all of these are directly linked to me…
Reasons you KNOW you need to get yourself to the altar…
1. If you are in a traffic jam and you break out your “driving finger” and start screaming and waving your hands wildly in the air, all-the-while having a “honk if you love Jesus” bumper sticker on your car…
2. If you listen to the song “Lollipop” while doing your daily devotion…
3. When you realize that you have had a picture of you getting your (covered) nipple bitten on your facebook page for 2 weeks (which many church members have access to).
4. When you plan a vacation around going to the bar, then going to church…
5. When you’re driving down the road, singing along to your Casting Crowns cd, hit a deep pot hole and yell “SH**!”
6. When you believe that your church will perform an exorcism on you at the next available moment.
7. When you are in Sunday school and the topic of gossip arises and everyone looks at you…
8. When you catch yourself making the statement “Bless ‘er heart, the girl is such a hoe.”
9. When you find yourself wanting to run down someone in the church parking lot.
Thank God, that He will forgive us when we fail.

An insomniacs thoughts at 2 a.m.

So, I’m up again tonight….like the millionth night in a row that I can’t sleep. What is going on with me? I can nap for a couple of hours in the afternoon, but I NEVER can sleep at night anymore. The insanity!
So here are some of the things that are rolling around in my noggin’ tonight…
1. A woman can only take so much virtue. Sometimes it feels good to be bad…and sometimes, I wish I had the nerve to be that girl. Will work on that.
2. I hate the fact that responsibility always falls on the girl…
3. Why do boys have to be so complicated? Damn, just be honest. If I know your true intentions…maybe we can compare notes.
4. Sometimes you can’t be shy and pass on a good opportunity…because that might be the only chance you have *sigh*
5. I hate Trenton. I realize that it’s a bad way to feel…considering I am truly blessed. I have a wonderful support system here. But frankly, I’m sick of seeing certain people, I’m sick of being here when I’d much rather be somewhere else, and I’m sick of not being able to do “fun stuff” because everyone is so tight-assed around here and loves to tell me how I should be and what I should do.
6. I really wish I had someone to cuddle with…
7. I wonder what else Merle thinks can be fixed by simply watching porn….hahahaha.
8. I HATE the booty song…Damn it! Now it will be stuck in my head.
9. I love my garnet ring…
10. I need to put by gold ring up for safe keeping…or just attach it to my YaYa hat b/c I think I’m threw for good with the a-hole.
11. Although it appalls Jarrod, I DO love a guy with a little chest hair.
12. I wonder if my Uncle’s family got mad because we missed church…I’m guessing yes. Oops… But when you get back to the hotel room at 5 a.m. it’s really difficult to get up at 8 and get ready for church. Just wasn’t happening.
13. I need to buy a tazer. And possibly borrow someone’s tractor so that I can plow into someone’s truck (not that the act would in any way be pre-meditated, mind you).
14. I REALLY only like getting affection from people I care about…there’s really only a few people that I want touching me. This does not include the door man, Juan, or any other field hand…not to mention, others.
15. I want to have a movie night and just chill at the casa and watch Juno, Why did I get married?, Madea goes to Jail…hell, all the Tyler Perry movies.
16. OOOH! A costume party at Halloween would be fun.
17. I like to have the opportunity to explain myself if there’s ever any confusion…I don’t like to not be able to speak my mind about things.
18. Furthermore, I’m a bit neurotic when I think/assume people are saying things about me…good or bad, I want to know.
19. I am WAY too nosy.
20. I need to find that cake recipe….
21. What grad school should I choose and what the hell do I want to be when I grow up??
22. Twenty-four is WAY too young to have two-three kids. Lord, I couldn’t handle one…now.
23. I want to plan a big birthday party next summer…not that 24 is any more special than any other…but I think a big party would be fun…and this year it’s too close to plan one.
24. Guys with shapelier eyebrows than mine look funny.
25. Ughhh…I need to go to bed. I won’t be able to go to work in the morning…

What happens in Carrabelle...

What happens in Carrabelle stays in Carrabelle….yeah, right. Hell, it’s a small town just like Trenton…word travels like wildfire :)

To try to begin on explaining what all happened on vacation would be impossible…So here are the basics. I had a wonderful time, as always. Bobby, Amy, and Merle made the trip a ton of fun. Bobby, I can honestly say that all expectations (if there really were any) were met. I always have a blast when I travel up there with KW. I am truly hoping that we can “mesh” our friends up there and the ones down here at some point. We did a lot of fun and unexpected things.

I will end with a few jokes of the weekend…BANANAS! (BTW, I SOOOOOO did say that as I was yelling and waving my hands crazy like). GET MY PANTS! Sausages. Reverse Cowboy. Sexpack. Vampires. KW and Amy Shakin' 'em. Booty (although, we never actually listened to the song…thank God).

It was a very memorable trip and “a good time was had by all.” Lol. I just hope that the Carrabelle Posse enjoyed themselves as much as we did. Love you guys.

Hittin' the road...

This week has been super lame. No real hot news coming my way this week. It’s been a bit dull at the Journal, at home, in town, etc. Frankly, I’ve had about enough “blah” for one week. So, I, along with my dear friend KW, are hittin’ the road tomorrow. Well, tomorrow afternoon I will be heading back to my dear, sweet Carrabelle. Go figure, right? I hope and pray that it’ll be even better than last time. I’m excited…but still a little nervous, as always. I absolutely HATE packing. It is no fun whatsoever. I never know what to pack, so I wind up taking WAY too many clothes so I will have some choices. Don’t even get me started on trying to figure out which shoes and purses to bring along…

Now that I’ve figured out most of the outfits that I will bring, I still have to: bake cookies, get a birthday present to where it looks presentable, pack up all of my make-up and hair junk, paint my nails, clean out my purse, etc., etc., etc. None of this do I actually want to do. I took the easy route in cleaning my car and just took it to the “buggy bath” in Chiefland.

I just hope that we have a safe, super fun trip. I hope that all y’all have a safe and happy Fourth, too.

Its NOT that COMPLICATED!!!

What do women really want? I believe Adam probably wondered this about Eve in the Garden of Eden. It seems as if this question has been plaguing men since the dawn of time. Really, I don’t see any of it as being that difficult. I won’t speak for all women, but here are a few of the things that women want. Although I am single, I have been around a ton of couples, and had enough past experience to give a few suggestions.

--There are some women that really seem to be into this whole “feminizing men” bit, but most of us would like a guy who is not girlier than we are. Prime example: a guy watching a chick flick with you can be very sweet (especially if you didn’t have to jab him in the ribs and give him the stink eye to agree to it), but a guy who goes to the Blockbuster, willingly chooses a chick flick and then proceeds to sob (way more than you) is a bit much.

--It is also good to not make drastic decisions without our consent (an example being, buying a 4-wheeler out of joint account without mentioning it beforehand).

--Although it is perfectly fine to take the reins now and then, it is not ok to talk to us as if we’re your minions. Talk to us, not at us.

--If you are sick, most likely we will cater to your every whim (cough cough, guys are big babies, cough…And NO ONE has EVER been as sick as they have). We aren’t asking for you to bring us peeled grapes on a silver platter, but if we should fall ill with the epizootie…don’t ask us to run to the store to buy you some damn Doritos.

--I promise I won’t linger here, for fear of being redundant. But for crying out loud, if you’ve used all but the last square of toilet paper, REPLACE it!

--Don’t correct us, or yell at us to mention something (unless utterly important), while we are talking on the phone with someone else.

--Don’t throw your hands in the air and say “I can’t listen to you talk about this anymore,” when we’ve heard you b**** about the same thing for hours on end. Your griping is no better than ours, mister.

--A little affection in public is welcome. Making it obvious that we’re a couple is FINE. Holding hands, putting arm around, etc. is sweet. However, grabbing ass or any form of groping is a little much in public. If it gets to that point, it might just be time to take it to the house.

--If EVER you are picking on us and we give you a look where one eyebrow is raised with a death glare underneath it (not a come-hither look)…that is your cue…we want you to stop. If you get the finger or the brush-off, you’ve probably went a little too far.

--Along those same lines…If ever we say that we don’t want to talk about it. We don’t want to talk about it. If you continue to push, this may result in something similar to the ABC Pizza Parking Lot Throwdown of 2009. Errr….still fuming over that one. (Did I ever mention that occasionally I’m good at keeping a grudge??)

--We’re also not really fond of the whole backseat driver bit. If I’m going the speed limit, and there happens to be a stop sign ¾ of a mile down the road, I DO NOT want/need you to scream “STOP!” like a little girl (making me slam on brakes in the middle of a road, making me fear you've just had a heart attack, when it's just the stop sign that is still a good distance away).

--Sometimes, we like to find things out on our own. You may have the foresight to see that it won’t work out, but we still need to give it a go ourselves. And it would be friggen sweet, when it doesn’t work, to not rub that in our faces. Just a suggestion.

--Getting to talk to you once/a couple times a day is good. Calling fourteen million times a day is a little excessive. Give us time to miss you. We don't have to hear that you just cut your thumbnail to the quick. We MAY need to hear if you've just whacked your finger off with a knife and are headed to the E.R.

--Most of us LOVE to gossip or, rather, we like to "share information". We like knowing what’s going on around us, who’s with who, who got busted last weekend for whatever, and so on and so forth. Please for the love of pickles don’t scold us when we are gossiping OR give us that bull on “only women gossip”. That’s a pile of horse malarkey. You know you boys talk too…

--The answer to the “Do I look fat” question should always be answered with a firm “no.” It does not matter if we look like we’ve been sucked into a sausage casing, we ALWAYS want you to answer this question with “no.” Even if it’s a little (or big) white lie.

--It is really, really annoying to us when guys assume that when we’re moody or irritable it’s “our time of the month.” It may/may not be, but really, that is a line that you need not cross. I had a friend once that had thoroughly pissed me off with his tactlessness, and when I had the audacity to get mad at him, he turned to me and said “Is it your time of the month? Why are you mad?” Needless to say, at the time it wasn’t, and he nearly got shot. Don't blame everything on mother nature. Sometimes, it's just you, that pisses us off.

These are just some of the things that women want/don’t want. As you can see, we aren’t that hard to de-code.

Aleta's Fungi-mopolis-polish mini-mercial

I had a random thought tonight. How in the heck do some medications have side effects such as “increased gambling urge?” Could it have been that the testers of this drug just rounded up a crew from gamblers anonymous? This is just odd to me. Along those same lines…why on earth would I want medication for something as trivial as restless leg or for having less eyelashes than normal when the side effects are completely worse than the problem at hand?

I’m going to make my own mini-mercial up to prove my point and let y’all see the insanity…

“Are your toenails turning yellow? Well, try the new fungi-mopolis-polish. It’s been scientifically proven to cure the fungus that gets under the nail and begins to turn it yellow. Millions have used it and are enjoying the ability to walk around in flip flops again. “
“Fungi-mopolis-polish is not for everyone. Do not use Fungi-mopolis-polish if you will be operating heavy machinery. If you are a smoker you should not use Fungi-mopolis-polish, because it may put you at risk for a heart attack or kidney failure. Side effects are mild, but may include: cirrhosis of the liver, hair loss, weight gain, deadening of the toenail, permanent browning of the toes or feet, heartburn, an increased gambling urge, anal seepage, bladder control issues, swelling of the tongue or throat, mild to moderate acne, ear itch, and nose bleeds. Do not continue use of Fungi-mopolis-polish if you experience any of these side effects.”

Although my mini-mercial might have been a bit exaggerated, listen to some of the medicine commercials that are on tv. Some of the side effects GREATLY outweigh the actual problem. It’s insanity I tell you.

I know I’ve said this before, but I will go there again. What the hell is up with all these erectile dysfunction commercials. What happened to the good ol’ days when everything was all hush-hush. If a man had a problem he went to see his doctor, not parade the issue around on tv. I am far from modest, but what the hell? Every other commercial is that nowadays. And that “Bob” commercial…Once again, to me, it seems like E.D. is far from his only problem. Could someone get Bob a straight jacket? The man looks bat shit crazy.

On a lighter note, I’m beginning to feel more like myself. Which is mah-ve-lous. Typically my sequence is…get shocked, get depressed, get angry. Sometimes it takes me longer to progress through these stages than other times. But right now, I’m not depressed…or really angry…I think I’m at the end of the madness. I’ve kind of came to the conclusion that you can like me, you can hate me, but I want to be myself…and if you don’t like “myself” …than, you can just kiss it.

In other news, my sister got a new puppy. She’s cute as a button…but mean as a snake. She’s a chocolate lab puppy named “Kenzy” (was Kennedy…which I liked better…but Rheba hated it having 3 syllables…don’t ask). She has been tearing the Sheffield house up the last few days. So far, she’s likes to chew on toilet paper, any form of empty 20 oz bottle, boots, flip-flops, Sassy our mini poodle, cords, etc. Her newest venture is barking at the “imaginary dog” in the dishwasher (she sees her reflection). She’s a crazy puppy…but hilarious to watch. She’s much like the Road-Runner…never stopping a bit.

Drunk texting minus the alcohol

I will start this by saying that I am sitting here, sweating like a whore in church. I’m sipping ice cold water, wishing I had a margarita in hand sitting in a bath tub full of ice. Our air conditioning decided to go out tonight. It’s so hot in our house that I’m tempted to go for a drive in my car, just to feel the air conditioning blow through my hair. Even though it’s close to 11, I’m still considering it.

Oh, how I wish I had that margarita! For one, it would be a cool and refreshing drink while I’m currently in my hot-flash state. Secondly, it would provide an excuse for my recent behavior. Sadly, I cannot blame my behavior on alcohol. The only real reason I can give is loneliness and boredom.

I completely understand now how people who are a bit tipsy will just start texting random people. Over like the last 2 weeks some of my friends have been receiving text messages from me anywhere from 11 p.m.-12:30 a.m. Why, you ask? Because I am completely bored right now. I swear, I went out with friends 3 nights last week. Still, around midnight, I get bored and start texting. But this is getting problematic…so I am seriously considering throwing my phone into my pool. If it weren’t so expensive…I probably would have done it already. I have NO will power whatsoever. Every morning, I get up and think to myself “Damn it, I did it again. I’m not going to tonight.” Then, around 11 p.m. that night, it ALWAYS seems like a good idea to start texting people. The next morning, I think “OMG! I did it again!!!” Errrrrrrrr…stupid mind playing tricks on me. CURSES!!!! (hands shaking wildly in the air). I've got to stop this madness...

The Constant Battle

“I start to think there really is no cure for depression, that happiness is an ongoing battle, and I wonder if it isn’t one I’ll have to fight for as long as I live. I wonder if it’s worth it.”

—Elizabeth Wurtzel

I absolutely hate days like today. I got up, got dressed (begrudgingly) and went off to work. I literally sat at my desk for 2 ½ hours trying to focus. Sadly, once again, I have found myself in my little dark hole that I cannot seem to hoist my ever-growing bum out of.

It’s honestly the strangest thing ever. You can be perfectly fine one day and seem to be doing ok and handling things well, but then some days you just don’t feel that you will ever be able to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

See, other people might feel that they have the right to criticize me or cut me down. They never realize that I’m my toughest critic. Most days, I hate things about myself more than anyone else could.

Drobby bop us off...

Amy, KW and I have begun speaking jibberish this weekend. Well, that, and making odd noises.
KW and I went to Carrabelle this weekend….and I, once again, had a blast. Let me give you all some of the high points of our mini trip.

1. As we were checking into the Inn, a man that KW has deemed “Dark Charlie,” asked me a question that at first I didn’t understand. When I looked to KW for help after the second time he repeated himself (w/o me understanding him), we realized that he was asking us if we were going to “Visit Corrections.” I’m still assuming that he meant “are you going to visit a prisoner?” What do we look like, Dark Charlie, two inmate’s wives? No, there are NOT any conjugal visits in our near future…my goodness.
This brings me to #2…
2. KW and I have come to the conclusion that Dark Charlie might believe us to be women ill repute. With the way we come and go in the Inn, and the hours we keep, and the fact that we keep returning frequently, AND because I pay in cash each time, we think he might have this impression.
3. We’ve all decided that Bobby likes the “booty” song WAY too much. And his Kermit the frog dancing (dancing like he has no backbone) is a little weird. Maybe you should just keep your day job pal. :)
4. Speaking of dancing…KW might need to consider her “bubble” while bustin’ a move. With all the flailin’ around, people and their drinks might be in danger, sweetie. :) Wish I could’ve seen that one. But then again, what is a girl supposed to do when poker face comes on, right??
5. I apparently am not only a nut magnet. I also tend to attract men of a certain caliber (Dark Charlie’s been talking to people in the area, I swear!). I can now add “felons” to my list of men who find me attractive…Now it’s gay men, old men, foreigners, and felons. Where, oh where, is a good “squishy” boy??
6. Onto the jibberish. I noticed myself doing this quite a bit last night. Saying half a sentence to someone, then mumbling under breath the other half of it. Sadly, most of the time, KW and Amy knew what I was talking about. It’s that old tele-pathy, haha. However, this did get us in a bit of trouble last night. As we were speaking jibberish, another guy overheard and thought that we were talking about him….he didn’t appreciate it too much, and wanted to throw down on the KW.
7. My baby daddy and I started talking about how cute our kid would be.
8. Finally, somewhere along the lines, KW got mixed up in saying “Bobby drop us off” and it turned into “Drobby bop us off.” This was the hil-ar-ious phrase of the night (at least to me).

I was so very glad to be able to get away for a bit and have fun with friends. I really needed it after the hellacious week last week. Speaking of which….if I find out who sent a dumb anonymous letter to me by mail, there will be serious heck to pay. I swear, does anyone have a moral-o-meter anymore? Dang. If someone’s going to send me that crap in the mail, they should at least have the balls to own up to it. But I digress…

In other news, I am a college graduate. I made all A’s this semester, so I graduated with a cumulative gpa of 3.9. Yay! I was just so happy to be done for a bit. I’m going to continue on, but it will be nice to have a little bit of rest in between.

Takin' a break

I think that I’m going to take a break from this for a little while. I feel like I’m getting dull and I’m trying to work through some things…so I’m sure you won’t want to listen to that for the next little while. I hope that all is going with ok with everyone, if anyone, that reads this. And I will get back on and blog later on.

I'd rather have malaria

I’d rather have malaria than…ever have to explain why your son’s resume isn’t needed when writing his obituary.

I’d rather have malaria than…ever have to shave my legs again (dang it, Eve, why did you have to eat the fruit and get all smart? We could have lived blissfully, thinking that furry legs were the height of fashion—I’d better put here that I WILL continue to shave my legs, but I just hate doing it….)

I’d rather have malaria than…hear the phrase “Well, you’ll meet someone…someday.” Ok…yuck.

I’d rather have malaria than…ever have to replace another damn toilet paper roll. (Why in the hell is that always my job…everywhere? I swear, I have “Toilet Paper Roll Changer” plastered on my forehead or something).

I’d rather have malaria than…ever give up one of “my gays.” They provide me with a vast amount of knowledge…and give me invaluable fashion advice.

I’d rather have malaria than…ever have to explain my actions to the sheriff…again.

I’d rather have malaria than…ever have to come up with another “lesson plan” for my “hypothetical” class.

I’d rather have malaria than…to ever have to answer the “so what are your future plans” question again. BTW, I don’t know my future plans yet. I’m debating between going back to school to get my Masters and becoming a bum….I might wind up flipping a coin.

I’d rather have malaria than…listen to yet another saga of “what diet you’re on today.” My gosh, I get it, I probably SHOULD join you…but seeing as how I LOVE m&ms and popsicles and like to be lazy a lot…I probably won’t.

I’d rather have malaria than…sit through a class with professor fuzzy face who likes to make up words….like “generalizability.” (Even Microsoft WORD doesn’t recognize it, D.A.)

I’d rather have malaria than…be asked yet again if “I’ve filled out the visitor’s card” in the church I’ve been attending since 9 months before I was born.

And my all-timer…I’d rather have malaria than…hear how we do it differently here, and how it was much better where you were from. Ok, you can kiss it and drag yourself back to wherever you came from….we don’t need your expertise, we’ve been doing it fine generations….

A bit "preachy"

So I couldn’t think of anything to write about….but as I was sitting here, blank, Garth Brook’s “The Dance” came on. I don’t know about y’all, but I am one of Garth’s BIGGEST fans. (BTW, he is STILL some-kind-of sexy. I’d do him…theoretically, of course :-P) I was listening to it thinking ‘how true.’ I’m going through a bit of a rough patch right now (no need to be concerned…just something I’m dealing with). But, I am trying to look back and think “If I had it to do over again, I wouldn’t change anything. I learned, I lived, I loved…and in the end that’s all that matters, right?” My heart may be hurting right now, but really, I have no regrets. Yes, “The Dance” rings true.

I’ve been having a teeny problem with my depression lately. The other day, I was reminded how vitally important it is to smile and say a kind word to people. Sometimes, we may not know what they are dealing with. Just having someone smile at them and say something nice might make their day. I’m not the best person to do this either, but I am going to make a conscious effort to start doing it. What can I say, I am still a work-in-progress.

Off on another tangent, while I am thinking of it. (Mind you, I am also preaching to myself here…because I KNOW that I don’t do everything right, by ANY means) There are some women, who shall remain nameless, that feel that “witnessing” involves cramming religion down other’s throats. Frankly, I believe that what they’re doing isn’t winning anyone to Christ, it is pushing people farther. Before you go chastising others, you might take a long look at your own lives. If you are wanting to witness and tell people about the love of Christ, you might try first doing it with your actions. You are sinners just as everyone else, you ARE supposed to be “different,” but that doesn’t involve you making others feel like the gum stuck to the bottom of your shoes. If we are to be followers of Christ, and strive to be like Christ, we can’t follow parts of the Bible and ignore others (I realize I have work to do in this department, too). I do believe that the Bible said to “Love your neighbor as yourself.” That means to love EVERYONE, not just the people in your clique. I also believe that God is going to be the ultimate Judge, so why are we spending so much time condemning others (all the while ignoring our own actions). We need to start living by example. That is all I will say. But here are some simple ideas for “loving” people…
1. Send a “thinking of you” card to a person going through a rough time.
2. Visit an elderly person at the Nursing home.
3. Send a gift-card anonymously from the local grocery store to someone in need.
4. Call a person that has an illness that has resulted in them being “shut-in.”
5. Holding a door open for someone just as a kind gesture.
6. Take brownies to someone new to the neighborhood.
7. When Valentine’s Day is near, take some generic v-day cards to the local high school and tell the office ladies to disperse them to student’s that wouldn’t normally get anything.
8. (Everyone Southern should do this anyways) Bake something for a family in mourning.
9. Sponsor a child for Christmas (and remember the REAL meaning of Christmas).

As I said, these are just some simple things that might just brighten someone’s day. This
world is going crazy, and everyone seems to be concerned only about themselves. It’s time we do something. What is the next generation going to be like??

I’m sorry if this post seems “preachy,” but it’s something that has been weighing on my mind lately.

The rants of a girl with a headache…

Call it a bad mood, call it stress, call it PMS (guys love to throw it off as this), call it a girl with a headache….call it whatever you please, but I’m going to rant a little tonight. I can’t be specific as I would like to here, but I just want to say this. I CANNOT SIT AROUND ALL MY LIFE WAITING FOR YOU. Damn. Was it convenience or was it just trying to please your parents that got you into this mess? You cannot always do everything to please your parents and never consider your own feelings. Thirty years from now, you’re going to look back and regret the things that you missed out on while you were spending so much freakin’ time kissing everyone else’s keester.

If you care about me, then care about me…don’t hide from it. If you want to be with me, then do it. “Bust a move.” I have been waiting for so freakin’ long, only to hear that you’re happy with things the way they are. YET, you still want to know what I’m doing, where I’m going, and who I’m with. WTH? I cared, I do care, but I’m not going to spend my life lying in wait. Until you find the balls to own up to how you truly feel, I’m going to keep searching for someone else. ARRRRGGGGGHHHHHH! …Not to make an issue of it….haha.
Now onto another rant. I took a dumb quiz on facebook (first one that I’ve ever actually taken)…It was called “What kind of woman are you?” Here was my answer…

result is Lovely Lady
You are lovely and caring. You help others and spread out a lot of sympathy. Your life aim might be to serve the people. But your weakness is that you forget about yourself, your own needs. All your time is hold back for your friends and family. You are always there for people in trouble. Ready for any emergency. You make a lot of sacrifices just to be a good human. But every woman has her needs, her longings and a destiny. Don't lose yourself in work or curing other people's souls. You will have your own problems in your life. Another problem is that you don't say your opinion when it's right and important to say it. People trample onto your soul if you are always so kind and lovely and helpful. They will play on you. Though you should try to relax more and enjoy your life, you should not lose the gift that was given to you to help others. Not everyone is created this way... You are unique and rare!

Well, ain’t that nice? Here is my teeny tiny problem with this…where does the line get drawn from being helpful and being walked over?? You sacrifice and you sacrifice, only to never have that “good karma” come back to you. Is it just this day and time? Is that the reason everyone is only out for themselves and never concerned with anyone else? I just don’t get it. I cannot be that way. Maybe I’m the weird one, but if I were like that, I couldn’t live with myself. I can play like I'm the biggest biddy on the planet. And I CAN sometimes be. But I really do wear my emotions on my sleeve. It doesn't take much to hurt me. Sometimes, and I know it’s terrible, but I wish I could be less concerned. I wish I could just let things roll right off my back and just not care. I just don’t understand, is there an in-between?? Does anyone have the answer??

Aleta needs to get back to Carrabelle fund

I just wanted to post a tiny update…nothing major. I just would like to say that this trip up to Carrabelle was the best trip ever. I had a blast. I would love to post in here some of the goings on of the weekend…but I don’t even know where to begin. Fun. Thank you, Amy and Bobby…y’all kept me laughing all weekend. Bobby, I still think you’re a perv…but a funny one, so it’s ok :) Amy, I haven’t laughed that much in a long time. It was great. With the talk of being a baby mama, the interesting conversation with Christopher, and the unfortunate incident of grabbing Merle's butt, how could the trip not have been fun?? Haha.

I also would like to say here, that I had a few people ask me when I was moving up there....ugh....I wish I could. Don't keep tempting me, people.

Originally, I had planned on going this past weekend, then, waiting until the 4th of July weekend…but I just don’t think I can wait that long. (Yes, probably now Amy and Bobby are thinking “Oh hell, her again?!”) So, now I’m starting an “Aleta needs to get back to Carrabelle fund,” if anyone would like to contribute. :)

S-T-R-E-S-S

So, I'm going on vacation on Friday. I am super excited. But I still have a ton of things to do. Pack, finish my class work, wash my car, vacuum out my car, paint my toe nails black (yes...I love that look) are just a few of the things I have to get done. But what am I doing? Blogging...haha.

Anyways, tonight i am stressed. Tummy hurting, skin itching, hair pulling stress. Not fun at all. I'm a little torn between having a bleeding heart and wanting to "fix" things, and being mad as hell. Oh, frustration. Why, oh why, does this have to be a topsy turvy world? Why do people have to break our hearts and let us down?

As a side note...the new Rascal Flatts song "Here comes goodbye" makes me cry everytime I hear it...and now it's playing ALL the time. Strangely, it comes on at the most "ironic" moments.

So...what you're really saying is....

I, like every good woman, am a big fan of hearing someone say a line, and reading between the lines. After hearing something on the “Cougar” show, the other night, I began planning for this post. BTW, don’t mock me for actually watching “The Cougar,” it is very much like a train wreck…it’s so bad, you have to keep watching to see the next stupid thing.

One of the young men on this show really cracked me up. Here’s what he said: “I’m currently unemployed…but I would have to describe myself as a ‘life enthusiast.’” Here’s what I interpreted: He is dead broke and he’s living in his mother’s basement.

I absolutely love this one. Apparently some of the elders in our church don’t believe that I can get through school. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard this… “So, Aleta, you still going to school?” This is code for “Aleta, have you flunked out yet?” I have been DYING to answer this in anyway other than yes. I have thought about how I will respond…and here is what I am going to say if someone asks me in the next few weeks: “Nope, I had to drop out when my boyfriend Snake knocked me up.”

Speaking of school…The day that I went to register for my first classes at Saint Leo…I met my advisor. I’ll tell you, we have a much better understanding of each other now than we did after this session. I walked into the office wearing t-shirt, jeans, and flip flops, considering that I was running from classes at LCCC, to the Saint Leo office, then back to work. It was a busy day. I walked in, and the advisor looked me up and down. Then she said “Well, I guess you didn’t know what to wear either.” I’m like “WTH?” I interpreted as “you look like you can’t afford to go here.” Then, as we’re discussing my financial aid (BTW, I had the lottery scholarship, FRAG, and other local scholarships), I called them out on charging us a “maintenance fee” of $100 for EVERY internet class. She then says, “Well, I could tell the moment you walked in that you were frugal.” I interpreted as “You look like you’re poor and cheap.” Nice. Then, to top it all off, she tells me “Well, here at Saint Leo, you can make D’s and pass.” A.k.a. You look like you will flunk out the first semester. I’m glad to say that, after being on the Deans list all the semesters now…She’s seen my capability. Also, my bill has been paid every semester, on time. So…I’ve surprised her.

I had a pile of these in my mind earlier, but as it’s getting later, I can’t for the life of me think of all of them. But if I remember any, I’ll post them tomorrow.

Sheffield Phone Ettiquette

You know how some families have a funny way of answering the phone…or they have polite phone etiquette. Not in the Sheffield household. Nope, if you call our house, you’ll be lucky if my dad doesn’t pick the phone up and say “What do you want?” No greeting, nothing…just that.
Here are some of my dad’s great greetings…

“Hey, you big dummy…”
“Don’t you ever call my house and wake me up on a Saturday morning again!”
“Hell no, we’re not interested.”
“Are you some kind of telemarketer??... We don’t want any!” (I would just like to add here, that there is NO use in actually asking a telemarketer if they are a telemarketer. Also, do y’all notice that it is odd that “John Smith” sounds like he should have been named “Cho Jung” or “Achmed Abdul?” I’m not being racial by any means, but don’t give me that bit about John Smith…I’m not buying it.)

Last week, (I wrote about the incident in my last blog), my dad talked the Pizza Hut people when they called wondering if the delivery boy had made it to our house. Here is the gist of what we heard on our end.

“Hell no, he hasn’t shown up. I’ve got two p.o.ed girls over here that have been waiting for two and a half hours for their pizza….Yes, they’re hungry… and they are p.o.ed. Thank God, this boy wasn’t driving an ambulance….”

--Side note—we were about to pee all over ourselves listening to him rant. I did feel a little sorry for the Pizza Hut people, though.

Last night, though, was the topper. Dad was “sharing information” on the phone (wonder where I get it from??). This is what we heard…

“No, I’m not gonna talk about her. She’s good people. I wouldn’t do that to her.”

Two minutes later…

“She’s just weird. Just weird. Her brain is fried.”

A minute later…

“Yeah, she is just a burnt-out dope head.”

Nice, dad. Nice.

At the end of making fun of my dad for a bit, I will say that I’m not the best at phone etiquette either. I once answered the phone at the Journal “Gilchrist County School Board, how can I help you?” I still am not sure where I got that one…seeing as how I’ve never worked at the School Board office. Also, two weeks ago, I made one of those “Televoice people” cuss (Can’t actually think of what they’re called…they are operators that call for deaf/mute people that type messages to them).

This doesn’t have anything to do with phone etiquette, but I would like to expose some of the craziness that is my family. My friend Steph was going to go with me to Carrabelle next weekend, but now has found out that she can’t. Considering I booked the room a few weeks ago, and had planned to have two queen beds, I had to call and change the room to one king bed, yesterday. In explaining to my dad about the circumstances…here’s what he said (once again, his logic astounds me).

Dad: “Why are you changing it to one bed?”
Me: “Steph couldn’t come, dad.”
Dad: “Yeah, but you might have someone else that could go…what about that Kimberly girl.” (I swear, Dad never gets KW’s name right).
Me: “Dad, it’s Krystle…not Kimberly, and not Rosie. Krystle…and she just had surgery, so she can’t. And I don’t think that I can find anyone that can go…it’s next weekend.”
Dad: “How much are you paying for the room now? It’s cheaper now that you’re down to one bed right?”
Me: “No, dad. It’s the same price.”
Dad: “Then, why didn’t you just keep the other bed?”
Me: “I don’t need it. It’ll just be me going. Why would I need two beds?”
Dad: “Well, I’d have gotten my money’s worth.”

OMG. This is just about how every conversation goes at my house. Do you see why I’m crazy??

Last week's reasons why Aleta's going nuts...

Ok, so it’s a bit of a long time coming…but I simply must tell you about some of the craziness that I experienced towards the end of last week.

Experience #1: Drunk Man in the Journal
So, yeah, the river IS rising. But why, oh why, must crazy, drunk, river men come in the Journal? I will have to say that it was entertaining…for a few minutes. Anyways, he came in complaining about his river house, and the possible flooding. (Very slurry, I might add). Then, he starts talking about how he was going to burn it to the ground last week, but now because of the flooding…he couldn’t even do that. (Odd.) He starts in about how he doesn’t have flood insurance blah, blah, blah. Then, somehow God comes into the picture. He starts talking about how he’s torn between God and his wife. I’m still not sure about how the God/his wife thing connected to the river flooding…but apparently it made sense to his not-so-sober self. It provided quite the entertainment to the Journal staff for about 15 minutes.

Experience #2 The Pizza Delivery Boy from Heck
I, because I was working diligently on a paper (**procrastination, cough cough*), decided to lessen my load last Thursday night and just call and order a pizza. Who knew having a pizza delivered could present such a hassle. No joke, I stayed on the phone for 20 minutes as the Pizza Hut people tried to figure why I was considered out-of-range, even though they can deliver into Trenton. Finally, they found out that I had somehow been typed in as a Chiefland address (I live right on the line). Understandable…still it took FOREVER. They were supposed to deliver in about an hour… Yeah, that didn’t happen. Two and a half hours later…I still didn’t have my pizza. I’d love to tell you what was said when Pizza Hut called my house to see if their driver (who had been MIA for an hour or so) had ever made it to my house. Dad answered. Need I say more? I will fill y’all in about what all he said in another blog entitled “Sheffield Phone Etiquette” that I will be posting this week. Needless to say, after our long wait, I still wound up driving to Chiefland to pick up a pizza. So much for the paper.

Experience #3 My run-in with the female-version of Monk
Before I begin, I will say, that never have I ever found the thought of stabbing someone with a letter opener so appealing. (Have I mentioned that I could GREATLY benefit from Anger Management classes?) This mono-tone retired Accountant came in on Friday and truly blessed my heart. I now know why people don’t ask God for patience. Lord knows, the woman was tryin’ my patience.

Onto the story. So this woman came in looking for pen refills. I HATE having to look for these things, because I never can seem to find the right ones. Well, it took her about five minutes to actually hand me the pens that she needed refills for (as I stood with my hand out for five minutes) because she was carrying on a conversation with my boss. Apparently, she can’t multi-task. So, after she finally hands me the blankety-blank pens…she stands about 3” away from me for 30 minutes looking for the dang refills. All the while she is talking to me in the most mono-tone boring freaking voice…all about pen refills!!!! AHHHHH! We find 2 out of 3 (that’s pretty good, right?). Blah, blah, blah…We still have to stand there a few minutes as I DESPERATELY search for that third refill, because she’s not ready to give up and I’m wanting her to get the H out of the Journal. No luck. FINALLY, as I’m ringing her up, she starts trying to re-assemble the pen. It doesn’t go back together. Here is what the next ten minutes sound like…”It just doesn’t seem to want to go back together. Why doesn’t it want to go back together (click click click)? Did you break it? Did you put the right spring back in it? (Click Click Clikc) What’s wrong with it? It just doesn’t want to go back together.” And so-on and so-forth for 10 minutes. All I wanted to say to her was “Give me the damn $1.50.” The freakin’ pen wouldn’t have worked ANYWAYS because it is out of ink! Still, I searched high and low for a spring that could have been switched. We had other customers that sat there smiling sympathetically at me. Chris tried to help her with the pen. Towards the end, I just gave her a blank stare, a yawn, and said “I don’t know, I just don’t know what’s wrong with it. I’m sorry….I just don’t know.” I desperately wanted to give her $3 to buy another pen. Did I mention that these were COMPLIMENTARY pens that she had snagged from other businesses. WTH?????? If you are a retired accountant, couldn’t you afford a $3 pen? Oh.My.Gosh! I wanted to kill her. After she left, we still had customers in the Journal when I belted out “Oh My Gosh! That woman just wasted 40 minutes of my freakin’ life!” Needless to say, I don’t think I’ll be earning employee of the month any time soon.

Well, that was my drama from last week….

If men are from Mars...then,

Mars is junked the hell up. What is with men wanting to keep everything and anything from the past 50 years?? We near-about had WWIII at my house last night. We were attempting to clean up our outside room. This is funny, because every morning around 7 a.m., dad starts mumbling about how we need to clean our house. Every time we go to clean, however, dad throws a fit about us moving things to where he can’t find it, or getting rid of things that “we need.”

The argument began with me and mom asking my dad to move his toolbox out of the bathroom (we didn’t even mention the dog supplies and pool equipment that was in there). I should probably mention that we haven’t been able to use this bathroom in about a year…because of the junk. Our simple question spun dad off in a tizzy. He started mumbling stuff like “Why does it always have to be MY stuff that’s gotta be moved?” and “Why can’t you move some of YOUR stuff?” and the best one was (however irrational) “Why don’t we just leave the door unlocked? Because if burglars ever came to our house, they would have the tools to break in right there.” I kept my mouth shut…I SO wanted to say “Hell, if they got past our gate, they probably had their OWN dang tools.” Anyways, he never moved it. I had to pick it up myself and move it outside.

He did, however, go out and start looking (and digging) in our “trash pile” to see if we were throwing out anything good. He happened across the pool/lounge chair that my sister had gotten last year. (She had forgotten to take the tag off of it, even though she had used it all last year). This spun him off into the rant about being wasteful, and throwing away stuff that was still new and good. He yelled across at my sister, as she was riding her horse, and asked if it was really broken. She yelled back and said that the last time she used it, she had had to prop the head up with a cement block because it was broken (At this point, I was torn between laughing hysterically and shaking my head in shame…because Lord, we were startin’ to sound like a bunch of poor white trash). Then, after seeing that he was going nowhere with the broken lounge chair argument, he went around picking stuff up out of our yard (towels that had just fallen off the line, rugs that were out there to be beaten, chairs that we take to all Rheba’s horse events) asking if it too needed to be “hauled off to the dump.” I might mention here that I DO believe that I get my flair for drama from the Sheffield’s side. I will say that I was a bit concerned that after I stepped out of the room, that he would toss my computer or cell phone into that trash pile….seeing as how we needed to get rid of some of our stuff, too.

After ignoring his rants for a good solid 30 minutes, he finally huffed off to start mowing. After he had walked out, my mama (I love her) says “You might not get the chance to send him to the home, I might just beat you to it.” In telling this to my friend Sam tonight, she responded by saying that the CNA’s at the nursing home would HAVE to get a raise to deal with ol’ Cornbread.

Yeah, I’m not sure what it is about men being pack rats….but most of the ones that I know are just that. They couldn’t part with anything to save their lives. I just know that in my house, we have to wait until my dad is out of the house before we can start throwing his stuff away. –We just recently got rid of some of his 30”-waist pants…as well as his old biking shorts (rolling my eyes)…and he still about had a fit.

Yep, my bet is that if men are from Mars…Mars is packed with old, ratty t-shirts, “yard work-only tennis shoes,” pants that have been too tight for ages, leisure suits, 8-Track tapes, Jerry Clower and Tammy Wynette Cassettes, viking helmets and high-rise socks.

Semi-blown up...

Well, I was at it again today. I decided to make a batch of double-fudge fantasy bars for my friend Krystle who had surgery yesterday. (BTW, I hope that the brownies put her on the fast-track to recovery very soon…I’m sending her sunshine-y thoughts as I write this :)). In making these brownies, I first realized that there was a small problem when my blend of egg, oil, and brownie mix wound up looking more clumpy than crumbly…but that didn’t stop me. Then, I mixed the condensed milk in with the white chocolate chips and put them in the microwave. I cooked it for 45 secs…hoping they would melt. Nope. Put them in for 20 more secs. Nope. Then, I remembered that I hadn’t mixed in the vanilla extract. Put the vanilla extract in and stuck it back in the microwave for a few more secs. Yeah,….it blew up in the microwave. Here’s what the microwave looked like. (The circle was where the pot had been)





Here’s what the brownies looked like finished…


Another thing that I would like to mention is…Sandra Lee has her own magazine now!!! Sandra Lee (Semi-Homemade) is one of my favorite people on Food Network (Maybe it's because she always takes time for "Cocktail Time,"--and y'all if I'm cooking, I need a drink...I can tell you). As I mentioned previously, I don’t watch a ton of the shows on Food Network, but I do love Sandra Lee, The Neeleys, and Paula (of course, y’all!!! Haha). Anyways, I was looking for a Scrapbooking magazine at Walgreens today…couldn’t find one…but I stumbled across her magazine. It is WONDERFUL!!! It has recipes, home decorating ideas, and great table setting ideas. I particularly loved the decorating ideas. There were so many things that were so simple, I couldn’t believe I hadn’t thought of it. There are so many ideas in there that are cheap and easy to make. So y’all should check it out.

A teenie bit of humor

Alright, alright, enough with all the serious topics. I have a joke for y’all. My friend Sam told it to me yesterday and I about shot salad out my nose laughing at it. I’m the worst relayer of a joke…but I will attempt it.

“During a church service, the preacher asked his church members if anyone would like to stand up and give a praise report. One woman came walking up from the back of the church. She stood up at the microphone and said “I would just like to say that last week, my husband crushed his scrotum. (All the men in the church gasped at the thought of the pain). He was in so much pain, he couldn’t lift anything, he couldn’t hold the kids, and he couldn’t help around the house…But because of God working through the Doctor’s hands, the Doctor was able to fix my Tom’s scrotum. Thank the Lord!” Several amens and praise the Lords rang out from the church members. She stepped down from the podium and walked back to her seat.
Next, a man from the back of the church came up. He stood there and looked out at all the church members and said “Hi, I’m Tom. (Once again, all the men gasp…thinking of the pain). And apparently my wife doesn’t know the difference between the words scrotum and sternum.”

I about rolled. That was the funniest one I had heard in a long time. As I said, I am the worst joke teller…but I hope that y’all enjoyed it.

I’m awful tired tonight….so I will end here. I will write about the fair tomorrow night, hopefully…I’ve got some stories.

In a fog...

As much as I would enjoy writing a funny post, tonight, more serious things are weighing on my mind. I will start off by asking the questions: “Can you really give up on someone you care about?” and “Can a person with issues really change?” Today, I’ve been mulling these questions over and over.

As I put in my blog last week, I had a terrible week. It was rough. And while this week is a cake walk in comparison, I still feel like I’m in a fog of contemplation.

I am the world’s worst at walking away. I am also the worst at saying goodbye. So my attempt at this last week was kind of a big deal. To get completely sappy here, I will say that I have been wearing a little gold band on my right hand (no, not the left…) for 2 years now. It had something kind of important engraved in it. I wore it as a constant reminder of someone of my past/present. I took the ring off last week and put it away. I just got fed up. A person can only take so much. It is hard to finally realize that you’ve been fooling yourself into thinking the person would change and “mend their ways.” I mean, how can people just live with mediocre ALL the time? I don’t understand it. I also have difficulty watching someone in a downward spiral grasping at straws, when I KNOW they could be/do so much better. It’s hard to watch.

This brings me to my questions. Can I really and truly give up on someone that I care for? I would love to be able to say that I could…but I can’t. I can’t just walk away from someone that I cared so deeply about. It’s just not in my make-up. Putting space and time in between us may help, but really, they’re still going to be on my mind. A song, a photo, a place can all bring the memories back.

Also, can a person with problems really change? I’m torn between feeling both cynical and naïve with this question. Can an alcoholic stop drinking? Can a drug addict stop using? Can an abuser stop beating someone? On one hand, optimism says that there is hope for everyone and that through Christ all things are possible. However, you look at the statistics and they don’t look so hot. Then, I question how they will be when everyone in the world turns their back to them. If a person feels like they are completely alone, then, won’t they then run to something that is an “immediate fix?” I’m torn between wanting to help and wanting to go running for the hills. I can’t fix everything, and I realize that, but I also don’t think that I could live with myself if anything were to happen. I pray that he will change, and that he will turn into the person that I know he can be….

"You jus' gotta have patience with the chilrens."

“You jus’ gotta have patience with the chilrens.” This is one piece of Madea advice that I cannot/will not head.

Every year when the Suwannee River Fair rolls around, I re-vow to never have children. Somehow, every year, I wind up sitting by the most annoying children in the tri-county area. Today, as I was trying to watch my sister in her steer showmanship class, three little girls kept fake-sneezing on me. Only after a few death glares and threats did they finally stop. I don’t care if they were “fake” sneezing…I still don’t want their spit on the back of my neck. Then, they started the oh-so-annoying game of hand-slapping. Where were their parents, I wonder…Probably at their house, or gallivanting around town, using the fair as a free baby-sitter. Ugh! Never, never will I have children.

We actually were supposed to have the steer showmanship last night. But due to the rain, wind, and nastiness, they cancelled it…after we had sat there for about 3 hours. But I digress. Anyways, during the 3 hours, I wound up sitting by a family of annoying heifers (whose name I shall not mention…I will only say that they are in the Journal a HECK of a lot with their steer pictures :). I wanted to shoot myself in the foot. They narrated all the showmanship classes. I wanted to turn around and say “I don’t care what you think!” Then, they kept inching their manure-clad boots towards my big Vera Bradley purse. THEN, they started discussing dieting and how one of them had stuck to eating only chicken for a whole year. She had tried to eat a hamburger recently and it didn’t even taste good. Can I just say here, that I desperately wanted to whip out a burger and fries and eat it in front of them?? I swear, they look like starving Ethiopians as it is. Their diet obsession is insane. I’m all for people losing weight for health purposes…but looking like a skeleton with skin just isn’t my cup of tea (as you could probably tell).

Who is Rachel Ray’s pharmacist and where can I get some of the uppers she’s on??

Let me just say, before I get into this, that I don’t watch an awful lot of Food Network. It doesn’t provide entertainment for the girl who cannot cook. But sometimes, my mama has this on when I come home…and I’m forced to watch some of it. Although I can appreciate 'ol Rachel's ability to make a wonderful meal in 30 minutes, does anyone else find her as annoying as I do?? I mean, I like most of her recipes and all, but I’m tempted to throw my shoe at the tv everytime I hear the phrase “EVOO” or “Sammies.” And where, oh where, does she find THAT kind of energy? I get wore slap out just watching her. I’m betting that it’s good drugs. If that’s the case, where can I get some? But at least she’s not as monotonous as the Barefoot Contessa. Her show puts me to sleep about as well as my High School Chemistry class did (as a side note here, I slept through both semesters of my HS Chem class…made A’s, but didn’t learn a thing).

Anyways, let me fill y’all in on what’s happening at the Sheffield Casa tonight. My sister is all wound up for the fair (at least the social aspect of it). My dad is watching his new favorite RFDTV show (yeah… BIG surprise). This one’s called “Country Family Reunion”…or some nonsense. It’s where a whole bunch of old country singers (or their kids) sit around in a circle and talk about the good ‘ol days. I’d rather be shot in the butt than have to watch that mess. What’s worse is the fact that even if he leaves the room…we can’t change the tv…because he’s “still watching it.” Ok, Dad. And I think Big Joe and his clan of dancing grannies are coming on next. If it’s up to me to take dad to my house when he’s old and gray or take him to the home….he’s SOOOOO going to the home. (Just kidding….but seriously). My mom’s working on folding Mt. Clothesmore (our ever-growing mountain of clean clothes). And I am using every stick-like object to scratch my back with. I’m itchin’ like a mammajamma tonight. Unfortunately, I got scorched last week and now I’m peeling. FUN.

On a good note, I am in a much better mood tonight. I got to visit with the very sweet Miss Allie Claire today and she perked me right up. Thank goodness for quilting classes…I got enough sugar to last me all month. She’s just as cute as she can be, y’all. That little baby has got me wrapped me around her little finger, let me tell you.

O.U.C.H.

Well, considering that my anxiety/depression medicine works really good, I haven’t wanted to fling myself off a cliff lately :) However, today was no-doubt the worst day I have had all year.

Let me paint a picture for y’all. I stayed up half the night worrying about a friend of mine. Do y’all ever get those overwhelmingly bad feelings?? Well, I had one last night. I couldn’t seem to shake it, and it kept me up really late last night. Before y’all go thinking I’m crazy…I do have reason to worry. But, I got up this morning and got ready for work in a zombie-like fashion. As I was getting to work, I got the worst news (not in relation to the friend previously mentioned… and no one died…so no worries on that front). I don’t really want to discuss the issue…but it’s just the kind of news that honestly just knocks the wind out of you. I couldn’t think, I couldn’t really talk….all I wanted to do was cry. I sat at my desk for a while “pretending” to work, while trying to stop shaking and tearing up. When that failed, I ran to my Hannie’s work…because I just needed that little reminder that things were going to be ok.

Truthfully, I just want to crawl in a hole and stay there for a while. I hurt. I’m exhausted. I guess it’s true about “when it rains, it pours.” It’s really frustrating…because I’m trying, really I am, to be a better person. And then all this mess gets brought up again.

I’m going to go to my friend’s play tonight, and try to take my mind off of the current situation. I guess I’ll try to fake it, and act like everything’s fine. The play will be wonderful, I’m sure. Krystle does an excellent job, and I’m sure that I’ll laugh and have a good time. For all of you that haven’t been. The Suwannee Valley Players are presenting “Into the Woods” all weekend. They do a great job…so you should check it out.

Thankfully, Little Miss Allie Claire is going to be gracing us with her presence tomorrow…I can’t wait for that. She sure does brighten the Journal up. I’m sure that’ll be the boost I need.