Life With Shermie

Grocery Checkout Etiquette

2011-12-18T21:00:00.000-06:00

So I'm standing in line at my local grocery store. I have the typical single person's items (non-PMS related by the way) which included two boxes of Chex cereal - one rice and one wheat. I like to mix my cereals, what can I say? Plus I had my coupon for $1.00 of two boxes, and they were already on sale. Score!

I don't quite recall how the chatter started, which is true for about 95% of my conversations, but the guy behind me was definitely a crowder. You know the type. The crowder is the one who inches in and makes you feel like they are trying to put their stuff on the conveyor belt with yours and then pretend that they are actually your friend, standing too close. Then he says, "Can I take a look at this?" while picking up my box of Wheat Chex cereal. "Uh, sure," I mumbled, since he was already looking at it anyway. I am usually more talkative but he seemed icky and I was kind of wishing he wouldn't talk to me. He had a bottle of red wine and some other stuff...I guess the items of a more classy single person. He then goes on to explain to me that since his cholesterol levels...blah blah blah or something, he always checks the labels on the cereal box to see if sugar is listed within the first three ingredients. I mean, this is not NEW news dude. Still, he has to show me that of course sugar is one of the top three ingredients in my cereal. Duh. He should be behind me during a PMS-induced shopping trip. Then he went on and on about high fructose corn syrup and how he'd prefer to drink soda with regular sugar as opposed to high fructose corn syrup (insert the voices from Peanuts grownups here). I asked him, "So what cereals have you found to have sugar NOT listed in the top three - Kashi maybe?" He just started looking around and grunted, "I can't think of any right now." What the hell fella? If you're going to preach to me about my cereal ingredients, including crossing that line of picking up the box to read the ingredients, then you'd better know what you're talking about and be able to offer me some alternatives!!! Luckily the line had moved along and our quality time was coming to an end. I paid and then took my sugary Chex cereals and left without saying goodbye to Icky Guy.

It got me to thinking though. I have often chirped up in grocery lines to the people around me in line, making what I have always considered to be friendly, casually conversation. Sometimes it has paid off and friendly conversation ensued. My sister says I talk too much. However, I never pick up other people's belongings or lecture them on their purchases. What's most important to remember at those moments of engagement is to know your audience. You can get a real feel for people who are not feeling you. They may not be surly or unfriendly, but recognize their indifference at back off immediately. Other times checking out can turn into a real party fun fest! Stick your toe in the water first, then proceed as appropriate.

Maybe next time I'll address the inconsiderate asses who can't get off their cell phones for two minutes to check out and how eye-rolling at the cashier is totally appropriate!

Movie Review: Our Idiot Brother

2011-11-25T20:57:00.000-06:00

I love Paul Rudd. I figured there would be more to this movie than just a story about an idiot guy who asks the guy next to him on the subway to hold his huge wad of cash so he could tie his shoes or whatever. And I was right. The problem is, even a really good cast could not pull it off. I had an idea that it would be sweet - a story about trusting others and living without prejudgments, worry, stress or anger and how one guy living that way could open everyone up to peace, love and understanding. It was sort of that way, but something got lost in translation. Maybe this film was trying to be a little quirkier than other movies doling out the same type of message.

I was hoping to leave there feeling inspired to be an "idiot" - the idea that simplicity is mistakenly viewed in our society as stupid or naive, and that is somehow bad. Being nonjudgemental or keeping things simple does not equal being dumb or naive. The film sort of made me mad like that, but at least the sisters in the movie realized that they were wound too tight and thought they'd like to think more like their "idiot" brother instead of how they'd been acting, but it just didn't feel genuine somehow. It felt like they were going to laugh at the end and say, "HAHAHA - we were just kidding you, you IDIOT!"

I expected too much. I went to see Little Miss Sunshine with no expectations - LOVED IT. I loved the relationships between these strange and unlikable people that grew stronger by the end of the movie. They all forgot their differences to form a protective shell around Olive. Genuinely sweet. I went to see Sunshine Cleaning with no expectations and really liked that a lot too. The relationships worked somehow. Maybe it's just Alan Arkin.

My solution is that I'm going to only see movies that I don't know too much about. The problem with that is - I can't watch the previews because they show the whole damn movie in 5 minutes! I'm not sure what I will see next - I'll just let my friends pick so I don't have to think about it too much. I'll let you know how that works out!

Shermie Gets Sentimental

2011-08-31T19:58:00.000-05:00

This doesn't happen often, and when it does it's usually in private. I am feeling introspective and incredibly grateful, and I am going to share my feelings on that. Feel free to look away, but I am hoping these feelings ring true for many of us. We need to embrace them and share with others so it becomes more of the norm.

I am no different than anyone else - in 2010 I had good times and bad times and then good times again. The usual. But somehow this year felt different.

I rang in the New Year with my best friend and her kids. It was a genuine good time. We played games, laughed and made resolutions. As the new year progressed, I continued to feel more and more mired in my financial difficulties and couldn't get a grasp on it to be able to pull myself ahead. It just wasn't happening. Then a few months into the year, Oscar had a very bad asthma attack. He has attacks periodically but this was bad. I called my mom and sister, who within minutes were in front of my apartment ready to drive Oscar and I wherever he needed to be, which was at an emergency animal clinic since it was late in the day on a Friday. In case you missed it, Oscar is my eldest cat at 16 years of age. It was pretty scary. He wasn't sick to where he needed to, thank goodness, be put down but he needed to be treated! Long story short, he ended up doing okay and I was forever grateful to my mom and sister for their support. They never blinked an eye. They were not working at the time, so their financial times were tough also. After that whole experience, I decided to take them up on their previous offer of having me move into their rental house with them. I'd have the basement to myself, basically. I felt the time was right - I could help them with rent, etc and they could help me get back ahead of the game. Not to mention my mom had used her credit card to pay the vet bill, so I could pay her back and then some.

For the first six months or so, things were awesome. Aside from my sister smoking in the house, I really had no grievances, and even that wasn't much of a complaint after a few strategically placed fans and candles. She seems to think that the smoke goes right out the window which she leaves open right by her and doesn't grasp that smoke goes e-v-e-r-y-w-h-e-r-e. When I get out of the shower, my towel reeks of smoke. I decided to pick my battles and that was pretty much off limits. You need to know my sister to understand why I let that go. Soon after I moved in, she got a job and that helped a lot on many levels. On the other hand, my mom wasn't working so she was doing my laundry while I was at my part time job, and then when I was at my regular full time job, where I work from home, she would make me dinner. It was a pretty sweet setup! In fact, I started thinking that maybe I could get used to this for life.

Here we are about a year later. The sweetness is giving way to some tartness. I must say most of it must be coming from me because I am now starting to get those itchy-scratchy feelings of needing my own place. I don't want to ask friends over and say, "Umm..kay, wanna come play in the basement where I stay?" Everyone who enters the house must enter through the front door and go through the living room, where each evening my mom and sister are at their usual posts, one on each couch, watching their stories. I have no problem with that - more power to them and whatever makes them happy. But it's time to have my life back. As a grown woman.

My mom is now working again. My sister's working again. I'm still working two jobs, but I am back ahead of my financial distress. So I think we are all ready for fresh starts.

Still, when I think about how grateful I am that I had the opportunity to get caught up and to help my family in the meantime, and the fact that they are truly happy to have me here in the house with them, I do get a little veklempt (I don't know if that's the way it's spelled, but you get my drift). There aren't a lot of people who have the type of family to be able to work through all this, and even though I feel a need to break free, it feels good because it's not out of anger or frustration that I feel a need to leave, but rather a greater appreciation for what it takes to not get myself in a bad situation again - I really learned a lot from how they run their household and hopefully I've rubbed off on them as well, in my own way. It's how it's all supposed to work, and if you'd asked me a couple of years ago if that would be possible, I would've laughed a very loud, tip my head back and open mouth - HAHAHA...no way in hell! But growing up teaches us that we are all capable of much more than we give ourselves credit for.

Ahem...I should add that I am not perfect because I am still quite petty when it comes to the relationships with my cats - MY kitties. I take great pride in having raised Oscar to be 16-1/2 years old and a sweet little old man (although a bit dramatic and perhaps a bit of a wuss), along with all the others. I do get a little peeved from time to time at being informed of the patterns and personalities of my cats by my mom and sister (which I have been familiar with for years, but whatever) and they seem to be almost daring me to get mad at the fact that they think my cats are going to be unable to live without them. I know differently. Oscar has moved a zillion times with me and has always enjoyed the new places as much as the old. Cats are curious so they like change and finding new fun things to enjoy. But that's for a different blog post because I just now remembered that I am supposed to be feeling grateful. Oops! I slide back into being sort of pissy so easily! Practice...deep breath...ahhh.

My facebook dilemma...

2011-05-11T17:37:00.000-05:00

I love facebook. I don't like the games like Farmville or Skankville, or any of those other time-consuming ways to drive other people crazy. Sending flowers or hearts...not my thing. I just like the connection with people who feel the same way about things I do, and even the connection with people who don't. It has been so wonderful to find people I knew waaaay back when, at a time when I didn't know how to pick friends or people I liked or disliked. Now it's nice that we've all grown up and can still reminisce from totally different perspectives.

Okay - here's what stresses me out though, and truly it's all on me. I am too insecure or something, I guess. Say I make a comment to something someone wrote. Then I get really frustrated when someone doesn't acknowledge MY comment. Maybe I'm not insecure, maybe I'm really a selfish attention whore. I'll give you a specific example. I noticed under my cousin's thread (jargon for the beginning of a "discussion") people were congratulating her for losing some weight and she mentioned that she stopped drinking diet coke. So I added that I am inspired by her, and that I had read all sorts of bad stuff about aspartame, blah blah blah. Anyway, I guess I thought that people should respond to my very informative addition to the thread, and when people continued to add comments I was sure there would be thanks involved. But no, they just kept congratulating her as if they hadn't even READ my comment! And maybe they hadn't, but in any case I followed along to see where the topic of discussion would go, and my cousin responded to somebody who came after me about the negative stuff she had read about aspartame...with NO mention of what I had said and NO thanks whatsoever. I need therapy to figure out why this grates on me so badly. I mean, it's not a personal affront to me. I tell myself it really has nothing to do with me, so what's eating at me? Do I have a desperate need to be needed maybe? Do I need constant stroking of my ego? Do I need to hear someone affirm my thoughts and feelings constantly?

Ugh. No matter what, this needs to stop. My sister says I need to make everything be about me, and even though she usually says it with a nasty edge to her voice which sounds a bit bitter and, dare I say, hateful, I guess she's on to something. The good news is she doesn't read my blog, so she'll never know I admitted that she may be right. I still have my motto to always fall back on..."at least I'm not driving around with bodies in my trunk." Thanks to Todd Snider for those lyrics. It truly put life into perspective.

Yucky Monday

2011-05-09T23:26:00.001-05:00

I do try to face every day with a positive attitude. I take it as it comes, generally, even though I get juiced about things - it mostly stays in my head I guess. Sometimes I take it out on Twitter and Facebook. But today I had to admit I was off to a rough start to my day and, since it's Monday, I hope it can only get better from this for the week.

My mom is home today, sick. Gross coughing and just generally looking and feeling pretty crappy. I feel bad for her. My sister is home today as her day off for having to work on Saturday. Okay. I am off today as well. My job requires me to work weekends, so I usually get two days off through the week. This week it's Monday and Tuesday. So we're all home. Enter the gnawing sense of an impending non-relaxed day. I enjoy the days when I get to come home and have a little quiet time which makes me feel I am back in my own place. Just me, myself and I. And the cats. Peace. Quiet. No need to talk about anything for a few hours until everybody else starts getting home. Ahh. I love those days. No biggie. One day isn't going to kill me. At 1:15, while sitting at Bread Company reading and having a bagel, I realize I've missed a phone call from my sister who says, "Hi, it's us." Then something about did I want something from McDonald's and what did I want for dinner? Ugh.

Back up to yesterday. My mom had pulled her car in the driveway behind my sister's car, and my sister planned to get an oil change, etc, so she needed Mom to move her car. I found this out while getting ready to go to my part-time job this morning and immediately went into my mom's room to tell her I would move her car so she wouldn't have to. Nice, right? The response? "Well NOW you think of that." So she had already gotten dressed, but what the hell? I said, "I just found out the plan!" Hmmph. I get her keys and go out with my sister. I back out, then she backs out and I pull back into the driveway so she can pull her car in behind. I pulled up almost under the carport and stopped and turned the car off. I looked in the rear view and my sister had this really nasty ass look on her face, threw her hands up in the air and then waved them as if waving me forward. I could read her mouth - "Keep going!" or at least something to that effect. So I turned the car back on and pulled up another, what, foot? Oy. Come on.

I wish things got better from there. I get to work and the scanner is down. I should explain that my job is scanning. And I have a bit of an attitude towards one of my many Republican co-workers because she seems to have that air of superiority that I often pick up on, but also often overreact to. Trying to avoid spiraling into the abyss of poopy moods, I went to find something else to do away from my desk. I still had to leave an hour early and hence lost an hour of pay. Yes, I'm whining, but since my job is apparently on its way out (being phased out by a computer software), I am justified.

I am not sure where this is going, other than my rambling whining, but there's an underlying theme here. It may sound a bit self-centered, but here it is: No matter how optimistic I feel when I get up out of bed in the morning, people are mean. To me. For no reason.

Of course this evening I had to feel sorry for my mom. My sister was very irritated with my mom's coughing and said to her, "Well I had a nice day off having to listen to you cough all day." My mom responded, "Well it hasn't been fun for me either." To which my sister replied, "Well you're the one who's sick." And I could feel my blood pressure rising, along with some type of gastric irritation coming to life in my gut.

My optimism must win out. Tuesday. Must. Be. Better...

Oscar Update

2010-12-21T21:57:00.001-06:00

Oscar - life is pretty sweet!

So, we survived after all. Mabel woke me up as if it were time for her to eat, but in reality it was 2:50 am. According to her belly, it was apparently closer to 6 a.m., or usual breakfast time. Somehow I snuck her a few treats and that did the trick so I could go back to sleep. I should admit that before I went to bed I tried to sneak Mabel a few bites of food while Oscar was upstairs. I was mid spoonful from the can to the dish when suddenly Oscar appeared out of nowhere. I was so busted and acted like it. I mean I'M THE HUMAN and yet I acted like a child caught red-handed dropping mom's good jewelry into the toilet or pouring her expensive perfume down the drain (note: I never did either of these...I just made those up). I immediately dropped everything out of Oscar's sight and acted as if I wasn't doing anything, which really is just stupid. And I have no doubt I looked like an idiot - I know this is true because of the feeling of intense fear I felt when I saw him come around the corner!

So we got up and got to the vet's office around 7:30 a.m. I was told I could call about noon to check on him, so of course I called at 11:40. He did okay - but needed FIVE teeth pulled! Oh my poor baby! So I was glad I did it because those teeth could've led to further problems down the road. Marilyn at the office told me I could come get him after 3. Oscar is known to these girls and the vets for being a patient who really tests their sympathy levels and makes them question why they got into their line of work in the first place. He is not a good boy...he snarls, growls, hisses and swats at them to the point where they can barely get him in the carrier. Once in the car, he turns on the charm to me. "Merr" he says to me from the back seat. "Mrrr," to let me know he had a very bad day. "Maaawwwmmm," to emphasize the fact that I should really feel sorry for him (which I did, and I felt responsible for it!) But by the time we got home, he was so lovey-dovey and grateful to me for coming to pick him up from that place...I didn't have the heart to remind him that I had taken him just that morning. Instead I just gave him lots of love and took his incredibly loud purring as forgiveness - since I'm quite sure that he did remember I had taken him that morning, but pets don't hold grudges. They are just grateful to be loved. And for that I am truly grateful.

OMG...this is so tough!

2010-12-21T00:04:00.000-06:00

Howdy all...tonight is so hard for me! My eldest "child" Oscar is having his teeth cleaned in the morning, and in order to do this properly, the vet has to put him under anesthesia. Well, as with we humans, this means nothing to eat or drink after 10 pm. WTF! I have five other cats who are used to eating anytime, anywhere and apparently constantly! I have had to take up all food and water, which has triggered some feline form of Pavlov's dog response...you know what I mean - when someone takes away the food, the first instinct is to want the food. So, these cats are hovering, pawing, scratching and totally grovelling for food. You would think that they are starving to death, which is not true - not even close. It actually proves how pathetically spoiled rotten they are...they don't know what it is to go without. They would never survive on the street. Stinker used to be able to, but he's gone all soft...literally. Squishy and, well, fat.

So I have about 25 minutes to go before I am finished at work and can go to bed. I think that will be my only escape, except for Mabel, who will vocalize her displeasure with the situation until I feed her. And she has some serious lung capabilities for such a little cat with one eye and a crooked tail. Well, the lungs aren't really affected by those little whimsical traits of hers, but it often sounds like she swallowed a megaphone. I can't take Oscar to the vet until 7:30 a.m.! The morning hours will be super tough. He usually wakes me up about 5:45 every morning for his first feeding of the day. I was planning on leaving at 5:46 to have him at the vet's office but we'd be there by 6 a.m. and I don't think anybody will be there yet. This really bites! I guess it's one thing to have one cat go without food and drink for 8 hours or so, but when there are five others who aggravate the situation, it just perpetuates into stress for me. I want to go to bed! I want to curl up in a fetal position with my head under a couple of pillows and pretend like I'm not there so they won't clamor up around me and try to kill me because they are starving. Oh and Oscar was just up on the counter scratching at something trying to get at his food but now he is "sharing" my office chair with me. I have raised Oscar from a baby that in times of trial and tribulation, we can just take a nap and things may or may not be okay when we wake up, but at least we escaped for a little while. In this case I am hoping for about 6 hours of sleep.

I'm a little worried about his anesthesia because I have deep-seated fears that he won't wake up. And then I will be so devastated. But the vet's assistant assured me when I made the appt that they do these quite a lot, and that they monitor very closely to make sure nothing goes wrong. Still...I know the risks of anesthesia. I also tell myself though that with his teeth nice and clean heading into his golden years, it may help prevent him from getting other diseases - abscesses of the teeth which lead to infection, then kidney failure, liver failure, and other organ damage...so I am huge on preventitive ways to stay healthy, for me and my pets!

So this is turning into a PSA for keeping your cat's teeth cleaned, when really I am dreading the inevitable. That siren that comes from Mabel's throat is going to be turned on when I try to pretend like everybody just ate like normal and that it's time for bed, like normal.

So for now I think I've dodged a little bullet, but it's just going to get harder. I will put food and water back down the second I have Oscar in the carrier so that my poor other kitties who will be wasting away to nothing by then can survive. Then I can feel sorry for the techs when I turn Oscar over to them. He is not a very good patient...think John McCain without his laxatives. The last time Oscar had an asthma attack he spent the weekend in an isolation bin at the emergency clinic, and when I came to pick him up the lady brought him out while she was wearing those falcon-proof gloves and some type of body armor. I was armed with a tiny blanket from the Humane Society with the picture of a sleeping puppy and kitty on it. She didn't care - she plopped him into my arms and took off. I just talked to Oscar and the sweet boy just melted in my arms. He is a momma's boy!

Tomorrow should be interesting but first I have to make it through the night...thanks for listening - it's time for bed!!!

The Fur Hat

2010-12-15T21:12:00.000-06:00

Hey all...sorry, I did disappear for a while but I never forgot about writing on my blog! I just got distracted a little but I am happy to be back to writing about my boring, yet surprisingly entertaining, life.

A lot has changed. I am no longer in my apartment of blowing fuses and drunken neighbors. I am now in the basement of a rental house, where upstairs my mom and sister reside. Like so many, we have been hit hard by the times, although we all feel differently about how things should be handled. Mostly we don't talk about it. Politics, etc. I am the liberal, and my mom and sister are more rightward leaning, I will say diplomatically. Aside from getting some bills caught up (awesome, but yes I still have Le Lemon for now), I was able to help them during some rough times - my sister is now working and my mom's getting close to finding something...I feel it. It's not for lack of trying - even though that's what the Repubes would have one thinking. She applies for tons of jobs, goes on interviews, and does all the right stuff, so the worry is age discrimination. Impossible to prove. She's got experience and personality galore and lots of energy, so...fingers crossed!

Anywho, no more drunk neighbors. Actually not much drinking at all...{frown}. But I am going to say that, for instance right now what's occurring is that I have a work party tomorrow to which I am taking a veggie pizza. Well, I am down here working (and blogging) and my mom and sister LOVE to cook, so they are upstairs doing a superb job on my pizza. Same goes for dinner. I just sit down here and work...suddenly I hear the magic words - "Dinner's ready!" Ahh. Life is pretty sweet right now. In short, the problems I thought I would encounter, I haven't. The only problem is my sister smokes in the house. I dont think she really gets that it travels through the vents. She thinks it goes away because she cracks the window. No, it doesn't.

So for Christmas, I have already received a gift from my sis. A big, furry, fake Chinchilla fur hat. Awesomely warm. I had it for two days. I got more compliments on it than anything I've ever worn. So, it's been fun...and did I mention very warm?

I met my friend at the movie theater in Frontenac. I had walked into a shop, done a little wandering, ran back out to my car to get my friend's Christmas present, and then back in (picture the little dude in the cartoon when he travels all over rather than taking the straight path...what's the name of that? Oh yeah - Family Circus.) Anyway, movie's over. Fair Game, if you're wondering and yes I left incredibly frustrated. Then, off to the restroom we go, then on out to our cars. I reach into my sleeve to get my hat, but wait - my arm is in my sleeve! So that means...where the hell is my hat? Oh boy...backtracking. Nowhere to be found. I am so bummed because I had my hat all of two days, and here I had been working so hard to prove to my family that I am NOT irresponsible. Yet...there it is. One guy I work with at my part-time job called it "road kill." Another kept asking me about it's digestive tract and dingleberries. Really? I mean, it had some little balls of fur at the end of the strings to tie under my chin and, which I now realize, is probably a good way to not lose the hat. The reality is...it's gone.

Now, this may not be a big deal, but let me add that it's heartbreaking. My sister has taken a job where she's not making as much as she's used to, but she is feeling good about being able to get gifts for us this Christmas, etc, and is very good at budgeting, so for her to be able to get this hat for me is more than just buying a hat. I just didn't have the heart to tell her that I had been such a goober and lost it. So, I did what any grown woman would do...

I told my mom. She told me where my sister got the hat, but I called her from the store and said they were completely out and the lady I asked said they didn't have any more. Of course.

My mom did what mom's do. She fixed it. By the time I got home, she had gotten online and ordered me another hat - exactly the same one - which will arrive in a few days. Ahhhh...when it gets here, the first thing I think I will do is take it to get it microchipped.

Stinky Followup

2010-03-16T16:22:00.002-05:00

Stinker's not doing so hot...I mean, he feels okay but he's still shaking his head and his ear still rattles,so he's not getting better. Want to know WHY he's not getting better? Because pills and cats don't mix. Yeah, they make Pill Pockets, but you can maybe get one or two, three tops, good uses out of those things and then they catch on. I tried putting the hairball gel around the pill and cramming it into his mouth. Then there's the pill shooter, where I practically performed an endotracheal tube placement while pushing the pill into his throat. Ahh! Finally! Nope. There it is on the floor, or my sleeve, or in my hair. WTF???
So a call to the vet's office may help. I am going to try the liquid form of the antibiotics. Screw the steroids. I can't do all of this. I mean, Stinky weighs 23 pounds! Why can't cats be like dogs and just eat everything in site (okay maybe not broccoli) and be super-happy about it? I mean, dogs can eat cat poo from the litter box and not see a problem with that. How is it that two types of animals can be so different in such a basic needs category?
I know all those funny things about giving pills to cats circulate on the internet and through emails. I hope someday to laugh at those things when they come around again, but for right now I have to go pick pieces of pill out of my hair.

Stinky

2010-03-12T23:29:00.004-06:00

Poor Stinker had to go to the vet today because his ears are bugging him. This is the first time he's been to the doctor in years, and I was sort of dreading it because...well...he's quite enlarged. He weighed in at a hefty 23.4 pounds and I sort of glanced around waiting for the obese police to lecture me on letting him get to this point. All there really was though was a poster on the wall showing what your pet should look like from above. Well, Stinky wouldn't have even fit on the poster, so that's not a good comparison.

He did super though. He got his nails trimmed and got the mats cut off his back by his tail, where he can't reach. Overall they were very kind and didn't make me feel like a bad cat mom at all! Apparently, after all, taking my cat to the vet is really all about me, is it? I need to get over myself.

He has an ear infection, so now I just need to get a grip with giving him his medicine. We'll work it out, but the less I have to try to rassle him or get him in a headlock the better - mainly because we look like sumo wrestlers and that's not a pretty site. We aren't wearing diapers though.

Communication...

2010-02-05T21:37:00.002-06:00

So one of my co-workers, Patrick, was out sick yesterday. I welcomed him back today with a one-word email, which I knew he would appreciate. It simply said, "Faker."

Not 30 seconds later, he responded as efficiently with one word to me, "Bitch."

I never use this word, but this is the only way I could explain my reaction - guffaw. I literally guffawed loudly. You gotta love efficient communication that can create a great belly laugh.

Book Titles

2010-01-30T21:36:00.004-06:00

I feel I'm pretty clear about the fact that I am a liberal, a Democrat, a Progressive - choose your favorite, but to understand why I am not always a fan of Republicans - at least those who are intent on keeping much-needed change from happening in our country, I have to share an email I received from a friend of mine, and here it is...The Worlds Shortest Books:

THINGS I DID TO DESERVE THE NOBEL PEACE PRIZE
by Barack Obama
____________________________________________
OTHER BLACK PEOPLE I'VE MET WHILE YACHTING
by Tiger Woods
___________________________________________
THINGS I LOVE ABOUT MY COUNTRY
by Jane Fonda & Cindy Sheehan.
Illustrated by Michael Moore
________________________________________
MY CHRISTIAN ACCOMPLISHMENTS &
HOW I HELPED AFTER KATRINA
by Rev Jesse Jackson & Rev Al Sharpton
_______________________________________
THINGS I LOVE ABOUT BILL
by Hillary Clinton
________________________________
Sequel:
THINGS I LOVE ABOUT HILLARY
By Bill Clinton
___________________________________
MY LITTLE BOOK OF PERSONAL HYGIENE
by Osama Bin Laden
__________________________________
THINGS I CANNOT AFFORD
by Bill Gates
____________________________________
THINGS I WOULD NOT DO FOR MONEY
by Dennis Rodman
_________________________________
THINGS WE KNOW TO BE TRUE
by Al Gore & John Kerry
_____________________________________
AMELIA EARHART'S GUIDE TO THE PACIFIC (Shermie's note: that's just wrong...)
___________________________________
A COLLECTION of MOTIVATIONAL SPEECHES
by Dr. J.. Kevorkian
__________________________________
TO ALL THE MEN WE HAVE LOVED, BEFORE ......
by Ellen de Generes & Rosie O'Donnel
____________________________________
GUIDE TO DATING ETIQUETTE
by Mike Tyson
_____________________________________
THE AMISH PHONE DIRECTORY (Shermie note: I kinda like this one...)
_______________________________________
MY PLAN TO FIND THE REAL KILLERS
by O. J. Simpson
_________________________________________
HOW TO DRINK & DRIVE SAFELY
by Ted Kennedy
______________________
MY BOOK OF MORALS
by Bill Clinton with introduction
by the Rev. Jesse Jackson

*******************************************************
AND, JUST ADDED:

COMPLETE KNOWLEDGE OF MILITARY STRATEGY
By Nancy Pelosi

Okay - me again. And obviously my friend is a Republican...some of these titles could be considered sort of funny, but most are not. So, with my little tiny narrow brain going and going, I decided to come up with a few titles of my own and responded with the following:

"Want to Come Hunting with Me?"
My Little Black Book of Hunting Buddies
Written by Dick Cheney

English Pronunciation Made Easy
by George W. Bush

Bill O'Reilly's Tips on Good Listening

Parenting Skills
by Sarah Palin

How to Ask "What Would Jesus Do?" And Then Do the Opposite
Intro by Pat Robertson

"We Republicans Love Our Country (But We Hate Obama More)
A Guide to Obstructionism in DC...Just Say NO to Democrat Ideas Without Offering Any of Our Own"

Rush Limbaugh's Dieting Tips

Glenn Beck's Secret to Saying Whatever He Wants (But Whining When Others Do Too)

"We're Already Rich So the Economy Is Fine"
by Karl Rove, Republican Strategist

"How to Take Care of the 'Little People' and Other Postmortem Thoughts"
Kenneth Lay, Enron

"Mommy, Why Do the Republicans Hate Poor Children and Compare Them to Stray Animals?"
South Carolina student turned down for lunch program

"Fox News Guidelines on Reporting the Truth"

I feel quite proud of my list, so I thought I would post it here. If anybody has any to add, I'd love to hear from you - not so much if you're a RePUBICan.

Better get going...time for bed.
Bye for now!!!

Halfway through January...wow.

2010-01-15T18:41:00.002-06:00

Well I am not doing well with keeping up on my day to day musings from this book on thoughts and stuff. I have been having computer problems, and by computer problems I mean I haven't really felt like doing anything lately, including writing, which I miss.

Now I am swamped with work for tonight so I am thinking that maybe over the weekend I can get something going again!

Whew - this month is flying by and I have nothing to show for it. That really sort of pisses me off, but I am going to go easy on myself for that. Anyway, better get back to work and see ya in a few days...oh, and when I have more time I have a pretty funny story for you, so if I forget, remind me to share that!

Bye bye!

Oooohhh...it's SNOWING SO MUCH!!!

2010-01-06T21:34:00.006-06:00

Hey folks!

The snow is really coming down tonight. I will have to make a snap decision in the morning on whether to make the trek to the ole part-time job. We'll see on that. On another note, Republicans are mean-spirited and selfish. That's all I'm going to say. For now.

So, here we go. Let's look at the next question here and see what's up. Where the hell did I put the book? Here it is...okay.

Oh boy. I see the word "dignity" in the question, which immediately leads me to believe this question is going to be a drag. Well I would have to say that, yes, I do believe that dignity is only lost when it is surrendered. My question to you is, is dignity something that you have to count on others to recognize? I never hear people say they are proud of their own dignity, you know what I'm saying? But in my mind, dignity equals integrity. Whew. Too heavy of a subject!

So now the book asks for specific examples of people that come to mind who have not compromised their dignity, or surrended it, when under attack. The first person who comes to my mind is President Obama. Back when he was the presidential candidate, there were so many times that people came at him, and even more now as president, and I feel that he has not compromised his dignity by sinking to the levels of those who attack, not to his face of course, but through the media or talking heads whose only job really is to criticize.

Another person would of course be Martin Luther King, Jr. and one of my personal favorites, Eleanor Roosevelt, and all those who have fought for and continue to fight for civil rights, women's rights, human rights, gay rights, and equal rights for all...

In trying to think of someone I know personally, well...people in my life personally are not people that I think of as having their scruples attacked by others, mostly because I try to surround myself with those who have no scruples. Hee hee. Hell, I don't know. I feel the people I know personally stand up for their beliefs but as far as when I'm around them, I don't see them being attacked, ridiculed or assaulted based on those beliefs. As far as for myself, well that's easy - I have no dignity. Maintaining dignity can be uncomfortable and really really hard. I am more about keeping peace and just trying to make people comfortable, maybe get some cheap laughs. So I usually bite my tongue to keep myself or anyone else from feeling uncomfortable. On the other hand, I am trying to educate myself on topics of interest because without the knowledge to back myself up, I certainly won't speak up. I learned that speaking without the information needed means I am relying on emotion to get me through what could become a heated discussion, and emotion is not enough to carry one through... keep that in mind, people. It's true what they say - knowledge is power!

I just wish my brain wouldn't be like a spaghetti strainer and that the knowledge I take in wouldn't be like those stray noodles that slip through the little holes and down the drain. Sometimes it's just not retrievable at the moment I need it, so what good is that? Should I go back and find the person I was having a discussion with the next day and say, "So, remember when you said what you said about such and such? Well...what I meant to say about that was..." That is just idiotic.

I, like so many others, learn most of what I know from The Daily Show, and I love the Rachel Maddow Show on msnbc. She is liberal, but she is very smart and doesn't just go looking for reasons to dog Republicans (not that it's hard to find them). She offers REAL information, not just made up hateful spewing of rhetoric that is so easily found elsewhere. So I highly recommend watching that show too.

Well I am rambling now. I still have an hour and 45 minutes left of work, and frankly my brain is not wrapping around my work responsibilities right now! I guess I should get back to it though.

Oh - the latest drama regarding "Le Lemon" Mercedes - no drama. The guy at the garage says, "It'll be okay to check it tomorrow." Oh. OK. They are good there. He didn't even have to look at it. "But sir, don't you know, it's 'Le Lemon'?" It is famous! And he said he could replace the headlight that's out too. Poyfict. So tomorrow then...if I am not snowed in, which would be wonderful because I have ice cream and white cheddar cheese popcorn in my house.

Time to get back to work, so we'll meet back here again...you guessed it - TOMORROW! Here's to getting snowed in...

Nighty night.

Jan 5 - is it February yet?

2010-01-05T21:43:00.005-06:00

So apparently some big snow is coming our way...and of course guess what happened today? I am driving home from the part-time job in "Le Lemon" Mercedes and all of a sudden it feels like I'm not in gear and...HELLO!!! My "check engine" light comes on...holy crap. Really, car? I thought we had established a friendship after the initial rough start to our relationship. Dammit. So I am sputtering along, turn onto a side street, pull into a parking lot and just turn it off. Then when I turn it back on it sounds and feels normal...whatever that means...and so I proceed to head on home. Of course the "check engine" light was on the whole way, so I will have to take it in and have it looked over...please 2010, be kind to me and don't let it be something that costs a lot. PLEASE!!! So, positive thoughts...positive thoughts...ohhhhhmmmm.

Now, on to today's question...do I feel that I live my life to the fullest and if not what can I do to change that? Well of course I don't feel that I live my life to the fullest. That would involve some form of effort I think. For example, while driving home today with my "check engine" light on, I sure didn't want to miss my nap. I mean, let's think about this for a moment - what does living life to the fullest really involve? If I love naps and I got to take a nap, then I guess I am living my life to the fullest. Who determines what a full life consists of? If I'm not out saving lives or squeezing selfless activities into every waking moment, does that mean I'm not living my life to the fullest?

Well, I am finished for the night. My sinuses are acting up like crazy and I have to take "Le Lemon" in to have it checked out first thing when I wake up, so I am calling it a night. I may explore this particular topic more again later, but for now it has the potential to depress me so I am choosing to ignore it if you don't mind. Please send me any of your thoughts regarding whether you are living your life to the fullest, and if you understand exactly what that means. Could I be doing more? Of course I could...but not right now because it's bedtime.

Sayonara!
Shermie

Jan 4 - where does the time go?

2010-01-04T20:17:00.002-06:00

Holy cow...already January 4. So far not much has changed in the new year, but I guess 4 days does not a lifetime make. So things will pick up. Definitely once this friggin' cold snap passes, although I do love the cold! I believe my retirement years will be spent up in Michigan somewhere, preferably with a good view of a lake and a nice fireplace. And a leopard pattern Snuggie.

So, here we go with the next question/post topic. Ummm...let me get my handy dandy book and read what's next. This should let you know I don't give much pre-thought to what I am going to say since I haven't even opened the book yet today. Right now Mabel is ripping and tearing again throughout the apartment, doing the cartoon-cat thing where she spins here wheels and does the Starsky and Hutch slide, starting in one direction and ending up at a 180 degree turn facing the opposite direction. She is SO cool!!! Taz is being intimidating to my super-dramatic baby Oscar (he's 12 and a mama's boy all the way around). He's been with me through a lot of stuff - moving all over the country, falling off balconies and out 2nd story windows (him, not me), and a couple of breakups with boyfriends (me, not him)...what a pal. He's pretty cool too. I'll talk more about him some other time.

Now, on to the topic. It says something about not following through even though I thought I was very capable of doing whatever that might have been. Hmm. By the way, I am doing question #10 today since I skipped it and apparently went right to #20 yesterday. I guess this is going to turn into just a random guessing game!

So, yeah, sure...in high school I wanted to try out for the hockey cheerleading squad. I had zero self-confidence though, so I was a complete chicken. Of course in 6th grade I thought I could play clarinet and then they were going to put me back with the 5th graders because I apparently sucked at the clarinet, so that knocked me down a notch when I couldn't really afford to be knocked down even half-a-notch. So I quit that. I really only wanted to play in the band so I could get out of the last part of class on certain days anyway, so there. But I thought I was pretty decent and found out that was not the case. The high school hockey cheerleading thing was different though. I practiced a lot even though I didn't really know what I was doing. I wasn't a slim girl, but come on, it's HOCKEY! It's cold...even a cheerleader should have some meat on her bones to keep her warm under the bulky sweater! But I never made it that far because I basically talked myself out of it before it ever really got going. It's not a major decision that I regret every day of my life, but it could've changed the course of my life. I might have developed my self-confidence a little earlier, or I might not have made it and it could've turned me into a bitter person before my 20s, let alone my 30s.

Speaking of high school, I didn't really ever fit in where I went to school. That's a long story though, one I am saving for my "book" that hopefully will be finished some time this year. Anywho, one thing I remember is a girl who befriended me when I really needed it. She was a bit of an odd duck, and by that I mean that when I think back and remember her, I could swear she was at least 25 or 30 years old. I know she was totally into The Rocky Horror Picture Show and went every weekend when they used to show it at the Tivoli at midnight or whatever. One day she brought to school with her an anatomically correct Franken Furter (sp?) doll, which I thought was a little weird, but I respected her passion for the stuff. She was very tall - probably 6 feet tall, had long blonde hair and acne, and sort of a deep voice. I can't think of her name right now, but she was cool to know.

So this is what journaling is you guys - you start out talking about something you maybe didn't have the courage to do but know you had the capabilities, and you end up thinking about an obscure person in your life who obviously was more important to you than you realized. The mind is a cool and freaky maze of memories from the past, ideas for the future, and hopefully you have the presence of mind to appreciate what's happening in the moment.

Well I guess that's the scoop for today! Be sure to share any of your thoughts, memories, plans or just present day appreciations with me - I would love to hear from you!

Take it easy all - we'll chat more tomorrow!

oops...

2010-01-03T09:56:00.002-06:00

Missed day 2. I was so tired - sorry about that! That pesky work sure gets in the way of my blogging, which I love doing much more but unfortunately it doesn't pay, well, anything. So work must come first for now!

So I am reading through this book and I realize if I follow the journal suggestions in order from 1-300, it would suck because clumps of the questions are basically about the same topic. So I am going to go 1, 10, 20 to 300, then back to 2, 11, 21, etc. It's already getting more complicated than I care to put the effort into, but who cares if we change the rules down the road, right?

So day 2 (we're still calling it day 2 even though I didn't have the mental energy to blog yesterday), we are covering the topic of being unfairly criticized. I am going to go out on a limb and say that this has really never happened to me. If it has I have blocked it out of my memory and even though these journal sparks are probably supposed to jog things like this out of memory, this didn't do it, so I am going on the premise that it just really never has happened. Now if, by say day 10 of this new blog style, I remember something, then I will definitely refer back to this day and say, "You know? What the hell - I was criticized for blah blah blah? Not fair!" I may just be in too happy of a place at the moment to remember things that made me unhappy. I should say though that I have probably actually criticized myself unfairly more than anyone else ever has. But I think most people do that...of course the ones who don't are the frustrating people for the rest of us! Everybody knows someone like that - they think they are fine and the rest of us are bumbling fools or jerks. Hmmm...actually I can think of several people I know.
Are these journal entries supposed to be cleansing? I might have to re-think this crap.

In the meantime, I have the same New Years Resolution as every year - to get myself in financial harmony and to get back in shape. It never happens but if I keep spending and eating the way I have been the past week or so (by so I mean year) , then I shouldn't be surprised. So we'll see. And I'll leave it at that. I have to leave it at that because my friend is coming over and we are going to the Rams game today. Somehow the company tickets made their way down the food chain to...me. Well me and another lady who is bringing her husband. We just split them up, 2 and 2. I think it'll be fun - the seats are about 20 rows behind the Rams bench, so maybe the fun part won't be watching the game, but rather the shenanigans that take place along the sidelines! Maybe a cheerleader will fall down or something...that would make me guffaw with delight.

So I should be back on track for tomorrow! Looking forward to seeing you here too...now Mabel, my cat, apparently just took her morning dose of kitty crack and is ripping and tearing all over the apartment chasing a plastic milk ring! Oh to be so easily entertained...but wait, I am that easily entertained! Life is good people, life is good.

Take it easy!

Day 1 Continued

2010-01-01T18:56:00.003-06:00

Just kidding on that last entry! I thought maybe that would get your curiosity flowing on what the question was! Hee hee - a little Shermie joke for you guys...now I'll continue and I promise not to pull that crap again.

The answer is absolutely true - yes I have absolutely committed this heinous act, but in my defense it wasn't for the wrong reasons. In my life I haven't always had the most confidence in many areas, but in my abilities to do good work, learn quickly and be dependable for my work responsibilities, I must say that I always had a pretty good sense about my capabilities and have actually taken it very seriously. However, there were times when I took on too much and didn't ask for help when I probably should have. The only person who really suffered from that though was me...I basically was a workaholic and probably could still be considered such if I were to allow myself to fall back into those habits. I guess I don't look at it as overestimating what I can do...I just look at it as wanting to do a good job.

This folks, is why I have tried to adopt the opposite style in my life...aim low. Then whatever you do accomplish feels great! I highly recommend it...

See you guys tomorrow...for day 2. I guess I'm sort of copying the "Julie and Julia" idea, but when you have low amounts of focus as I do, having a guideline to follow can only help! Make sure to give comments and, again, the name of the book I am following is "Journal Sparks" by Shery Ma Belle Arrieta-Russ. Join me!

Bye bye -
Shermie

Day 1

2010-01-01T18:47:00.002-06:00

Dudes, some of these are quite thought provoking, not a strong Shermie quality, so I will do my best here.

So, here we are on day 1, question 1...January 1, 2010: Yes.

HAPPY 2010!

2010-01-01T17:51:00.003-06:00

Hey Friends!

Happy 2010 - this is going to be an awesome year...I can just feel it in my creaky bones. Or maybe I just feel arthritis - not sure yet.

So here at Life with Shermie, I am going to take on a little project that involves you all. I recently purchased a book called "Journal Sparks" and in it there are 300 topics or questions on which I am going to comment every day - I am just going to comment on them, not actually repeat the questions/topics on the blog, so I hope you guys will find a copy of the book and follow along - but more than anything I hope it inspires you to comment to this blog or even start journaling yourselves! The fun part is that if you don't have the book, you have to try to figure out what the hell I am talking about in my rambling Shermie way, so I guess that could be a little entertaining in its own way...however it works for you! I am excited about it~I hope it's fun for you guys too.

Okay...I'll be back with the first entry...see you soon Shermites!

Thoughts on a few Christmas Shows...

2009-12-03T19:28:00.006-06:00

Okay, so I am working on my computer, but I was very excited to learn that Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer was on tonight. I made sure about 10 minutes before 7 that I turned my TV on the right channel so I wouldn’t miss a second of it.

Then I remembered. Other than the fond memories of being a kid and hurrying with my pillow and blanket to get as close to the TV as possible to watch it every year, I cannot stand this program. I have determined from years of watching this show as an adult that Santa and the majority of the reindeer, as well as most of the elves, are pricks. And when did Mrs. Santa Claus turn into an Italian or Jewish wife - EAT PAPA EAT! And talk about an unhealthy diet...what the hell is in that soup? She stands there and feeds him and he blows up like a balloon! Come to think of it, I think I had that soup the other day...

First of all, Rudolph’s dad…come on. I mean really? He threw Rudolph under the bus the minute he saw that his son was different. Clarisse is the only one with any sense, and Hermey, the elf who wants to be a dentist. And to that really mean elf in charge – Alfie - I mean, is it so horrible that Hermey has aspirations other than being an elf? Being an elf is not necessarily respectable “out there” in the world – but apparently being an elf makes you even lower on the scale than Rudolph in the North Pole. With Santa in charge, being an elf really bites at Santa’s Workshop. What’s with the singing of the song thing that they had to rehearse? They even have to entertain Santa, let alone make all the toys? Jeez, Santa.

So Santa sees Rudolph and immediately breaks into song about how HE is Santa or whatever, and cannot be bothered with a reindeer whose nose glows bright. By the way, the glowing wouldn’t be so bad, but why does it have to make that horrendous squealing noise too? Nobody ever mentions that. The coach, Comet, is the ultimate hated egotistical coach who makes the doughy kids cringe. Hateful jock prick.

I know I must seem to have quite a cynical view of this, but basically my problem with this whole program is that it’s not okay to be different until it comes in useful for somebody else (in this case SANTA the PRICK). Right down to the very last minute, when they thought they would have to cancel Christmas, Santa was still being an A-hole to Rudolph telling him to basically “shut his nose up” while he was trying to come up with an idea to be able to uphold his reputation… oh, wait, (can you say red lightbulb?) - we CAN USE that nose! So all of a sudden everyone loves Rudolph. Poor Rudolph – such a people pleaser. What happens if, once puberty ends or he hits his teens, the nose gives out? Will they shun him again when he can't help them out?

Santa plays it as the martyr because he wants to deliver the toys to the kids, but the truth is Santa wants to save his own fat ass. That’s the truth. I know in the end it all turns out okay, even with the toothless abominable snowman...poor guy...no more solids of any kind! I'd think there'd be a happy medium somewhere...

Now, with A Charlie Brown Christmas, that still holds a good message, at least in my Snoopy-loving opinion. I know that Lucy is an uptight, controlling biotch throughout, and everybody treats Charlie Brown like a pile of Christmas reindeer poo, but they don’t USE Charlie Brown at the end of the program like they do Rudolph. They come to realize the true meaning of Christmas, whatever that is…and help good ole Charlie Brown decorate his sad little tree (also adding lots of needles and branches)… and who can blame Charlie when he comes back after they've decorated and yells, "WHAT'S GOING ON HERE?" He probably thought they had stomped his poor little tree, since that's the type of gang type behavior they had displayed earlier...

To me, as a kid, the main Christmas programs to catch were (not in any particular order): A Charlie Brown Christmas, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer (before my enlightenment), Frosty the Snowman, and The Grinch Who Stole Christmas. The one with the Heat Miser is pretty good too. How about that Little Drummer Boy? Yikes! One year I invited a bunch of friends over for a party to watch Christmas programs (on VHS – the old days) and for some reason I only remember the part where the Little Drummer Boy’s sheep was able to walk again. Holy crap – the beginning of that is horrendous with the Al Qaeda people burning down the boy’s house and killing his parents! Jiminy crickets…I had to fast forward! No wonder that’s not seen on mainstream TV these days.

So I apologize to anyone whose favorite program I left off. Just for the record, I am strictly talking either cartoon or Claymation forms of entertainment though – not movies or real stuff.

Sure, most of them have excellent messages about Christmas not being about presents or commercial things…blah blah blah, but mostly they were just pure entertainment. It’s not the same anymore – now you have to search the cable stations to find who might be showing The Grinch (and now we have to make sure it’s not the MOVIE version for cripes sake), or to save the trouble, it can just be purchased on video. There is no longer the anticipation of knowing it was coming on (usually CBS – Channel 4) and they would run that Special Presentation thing before it would start – ohhh the excitement!!! It always sucked when it was over because you knew it would be a whole year before it would be back…

Ahhh, those were the days. I’m sure glad I was a kid when I got to experience those feelings of genuine excitement and high expectations. Please feel free to share any of your stories - I love to hear from you!

Black Friday

2009-11-27T19:36:00.003-06:00

Howdy folks! Hope everybody had a Happy Thanksgibbing. I am not sure why, but I am just not feeling the holidays like I used to. I don't know if it's because I've been living back in St. Lou again for a few years now, where usually I'm living away from here so I have the anticipation of visiting...oh I don't know. Maybe it's because I had to work on Thanksgibbing. I work from home, but I still had to miss dinner at Monda's (mom and Linda's...my sister) so blah blah blah. But I am feeling a little restless. So here are some random thoughts:

I can't stand when people pull their carts behind them at the grocery store rather than push them. They take up too much room! Plus they don't look behind to see if their cart is blocking someone from getting to what they need. I mean, I remember as a kid my mom used to do that when she let me push, but that was obviously so nobody would get a "flat tire" since I could barely see over the push-handle. That's different. Also, people who pull their carts seem very arrogant to me.

Beware of people driving in front of you who have their washer-wipers going at high speed during a light drizzle. They apparently tend to overreact, so steer clear of them.

And can we please stop doing the wave? It is so 80's and I am over it. I just don't see it as one of those longstanding sports traditions that needs to continue. Peanuts, yes. Beer, yes. Even "We Will Rock You" - mmm, okay. But please let's let go of the wave.

How is it that cars can continue driving for what seems like miles with their brake lights on? And why do they always seem to be in front of me? Of course, this coming from someone who really doesn't like to use my brakes at all if I can help it...

In keeping with the holidays, I will say that in all the places I've lived away from St. Louis and my family at Thanksgiving or Christmas, one thing has always been true: there are really nice people who never want you to be alone and will ALWAYS invite you to dinner. Humanity CAN be kind!

I admire people who are passionate...it doesn't matter what their passions are (excluding violent crimes or crimes of any nature really) but if they are gung ho at 110%, I think it's great. For example, I saw a commercial for a barbeque contest on some channel, and this lady says, "I'm not in it for the money, I'm in it for the prestige!" I thought, more power to you lady - these people LOVE their barbeque! Or the paranormal people...they are passionate about their ghosts! I don't know if I have anything that I am that passionate about...I am too lazy to be so passionate, at least these days.

I am in love with David Bromstead on Color Splash, HGTV...yes, he is gay but I find him incredibly adorable and check out those arms...whew.

I am also in love with Dr. Spencer Reid from Criminal Minds. Now with his hair growing longer, he's looking good and yummy!

I think I may have found something I am passionate about: gorgeous men I can never have.

Oh, this is sorta funny. Sometimes I work selling jewelry cleaner at the local home shows/womens' shows at the Ed (Edward Jones dome) and out in St. Charles. It's fun because it's so opposite what I do all day every day - I actually get to talk to people! It often reminds me of why I do enjoy working at home, alone. Anyway, I think it was the last one I worked where there were several little incidents that made me laugh and/or shake my head. And when I say laugh, not in a good way. First, I was cleaning this guy's ring...it was an okay ring. I'd seen many men's rings that were way nicer, but you know...I don't judge. Anyway, I finish cleaning it and hand it back to him...he looks at it proudly and says, "Yeah, uh, what do they call this - ling ling?" I had to stop and think because my mind immediately went to a panda. "I think you mean...bling bling?" I was nice and left off the part of it not really meeting that criteria..."Oh yeah," he said laughing in a creepy way. He was sort of a greasy guy who thought he was cool, but ewww ~I couldn't believe he actually seriously said "ling ling." It was a little weird.

Then, a little while later I look over and see my co-worker cleaning a ring for a lady, and the lady's family was sort of hovering over looking to see the whole process. Well I couldn't help but notice her husband's shirt - it had a picture of a fish on the front and, after clearing any blurriness from my eyes and double checking, it said, "Here Fishy! Fishy!" Really now. I wiped my eyes and looked again...yep, it was still there. Aww. He probably got it for his birthday or even Christmas, probably from his kids. I am learning that perhaps I am shallow and horrible because personally I think a shirt like that is just cause for divorce. But I have no depth at all. Luckily he met a woman who didn't care about that stuff. That leaves only one thought - I will always be alone.

Last year when visiting my grandma, we were sitting at the kitchen table watching...well, the Lawrence Welk show. Not exactly the Lawrence Welk show, but some sort of flashback show - anyway, it doesn't matter. We're playing Yahtzee and half-watching when this guy is introduced...I don't know what his name was - Steve something maybe? Anyway, my grandma pretty loudly exclaims all of a sudden, "Oh I can't stand that guy - he is such a PUKE PUSS!" What the hell is a puke puss? I just looked at my grandma and couldn't say a word ~ I had never heard that expression, and certainly not from my 89-year-old grandmother! I love my grandma...she is the best.

A few weeks ago I saw a Hummer parked at a Bank of America ATM. I thought to myself, "Isn't that the picture of America these days!"

And to finish up here, while at a Blues hockey game with my brother and my nephew, we were sitting pretty high up where, as my nephew says, "the real fans sit"...well one of those real fans was very frustrated with the way the Blues were playing - not just with this game but with the past few. The team just couldn't get anything going...so this guy, I'm assuming a future NHL coach, takes an opportunity during a quiet moment to yell at the top of his voice...."QUIT SUCKING!!!" It was hilarious - we all laughed...those were the best instructions I have ever heard yelled at a sporting event...EVER...please feel free to use it if necessary - I'm sure the guy won't mind!

Well, signing off for today...Black Friday. See ya soon!

Shermie

Thankful for what?

2009-11-23T22:02:00.001-06:00

Hey there Friends of Shermie (or as we say in Ireland “Friends O’Shermie”! It’s been a while - too long!!! Long time no write, so there is a lot to talk about. Unfortunately I started talking quite a while ago and then lost everything due to not knowing how to work this computer. It’s tiny, so I think I hit something and all of a sudden it shut down and goodbye and goodnight! Anyway, we won’t waste time or energy worrying about that right now.

I must say, as long as it’s been, I am going to talk about today. Right now I am hanging at my local Borders. I had a blueberry scone (dry, but I think they’re supposed to be since they are European) and a most delicious beverage called the Sugar & Spice Latte (to which the nice girl added a touch of chocolate, making it the ultimate , most best tasting ever!) At first I was feeling very conspicuous amongst the students who look so cool with their Macs and big laptops, and me with my tiny purple netbook. The problem isn’t really my computer though; it’s more my wardrobe. Here I am in my maternity looking sweatpants and matching sweat jacket, although I must say my striped scarf is pretty cool (Target $10). So maybe I’m not too much of a lost cause. I don’t think people are looking at me disapprovingly, and I must say there is quite an assortment of folks who have wandered in to take a seat. Okay I feel better because some kid (kid being in his 20s) just came in wearing what I think are South Park pajama bottoms, so I’m feeling pretty good. Hold on while I save what I have written thus far, so as not to make the same mistake! Those who do not have a good memory tend to repeat their mistakes, or whatever that saying is…

So I’m not a big fan of my day today. Of course it is Monday, and oh joy of joys I am off from the full time job tonight! Whew…it was a busy weekend, so I am grateful. Anyway, the girl I work with at my part-time job in the mornings (Tracy – you’ve heard me mention her before…the friendly Republican) had her baby on Friday, which is great in itself because all are happy and healthy!

But of course we’re talking about me here, so my drama is just beginning. The Most Organized Tracy left me a detailed list of what to do with certain emails, forwarding them appropriately, etc, and I am a nervous wreck. So I go in and log on to her computer to get into her email. Another lady comes over to say that so-and-so is looking for an email from Friday that Tracy ALWAYS sends out on Friday morning…then, carefully following my list, I forward an email that is to be sent to certain people, correctly I thought, until yet another lady, Diane, comes over to say that I did it different than Tracy does it because she can’t get into it without a password. Great. So I figure out what I did wrong and re-do it. Being me, I added a cute little note in the subject line saying that now it should be able to be opened (by cute I mean friendly sounding). I have to send these from Tracy’s computer, so it won’t let me put my name in the line about who is sending it, right? Anyway, I get a response from a guy who I would say is pretty far up the food chain in our office. In the past I’ve had trouble figuring him out…I know he voted for Obama (according to Tracy because he’s Jewish and I’m not sure what that means) and he seems to have somewhat of a sense of humor… I always think I can get him to crack a smile, but so far not and I always chalked it up to his having one of those “dry” senses of humor. Well, see how you would interpret this email…it’s from him and it says, “Uh…who is sending this email? Is it Tracy or somebody pretending to be Tracy?” I took it to be humor, beings that everybody knows Tracy is not in and won’t be for 3 months. And as far as the pretending to be Tracy remark, I took that as me being a Tracy “wannabe”…I thought it was funny! So I respond to him, “Watch it mister.” I felt pretty lighthearted about my spirited and good-natured response, but about 30 seconds later I heard his door open and heavy footsteps (he’s a big guy). Not so funny I guess. He said it was too “confusing” to be receiving emails from Tracy’s address and that we needed to set up a way to send them from mine. Oh boy…really? Confusing? Okay…she JUST had a baby like 48 hours ago. She is not here and I can’t put my name in the line to say it’s from me. Just TAKE IT EASY MAN! So Day 1 is already a disaster in my mind.
Between the deal with the big guy, the first guy complaining, and the unopenable attachment sent to everyone, my lighthearted mood disintegrated to the point where I was plotting my resignation the minute Tracy walked back in the door from maternity leave. Oh yes I would show THEM. Anyway, day 1 is behind me and hopefully day 2 will be better. Luckily it’s Thanksgiving this week, so it’s a short week and there is less chance of me screwing anything up majorly.

Of course then I came home and after shoveling in some ice cream, I decided it was nap time. My naps (oh and I guess the ice cream shoveling too) are coming to an end though, people, because it is time to get serious about fitting into those cute clothes in my closet. It is time to become the person that fit into those clothes…don’t get me wrong, I am not saying I am not comfortable in my own skin, but actually right now I have more skin than I need. It’s time. I got the cool Skechers tennis shoes with the rocker bottoms that are supposed to really help tone up the butt while walking, and I am going to try a product called Nexagen which is supposed to help curb cravings and appetite, not to mention boost my energy (which really my naps never did because I took too long of naps) so I am ready to hit it! I will keep you, my friends, up to speed on how that goes. Please feel free to add your comments, advice, stories, etc. I’d love to hear from you!

Well friends, I’ve listened to about as much Christmas music and Norah Jones overhead as I can take in one evening, so I am going to close up shop here and head home. With my new transportable way to write, I will be adding more daily, so please come back and visit! Next time I’ll try somewhere else to check out the folks there so I can talk about them to you, and possibly there will be a good story that unfolds before my very eyes!

Remember, if you’re bored with your life…YOU’RE NOT PAYING ATTENTION!

Bye for now friends!

The 7 Most Inappropriate Products For Children (PHOTOS)

2009-09-15T15:10:00.002-05:00

The 7 Most Inappropriate Products For Children (PHOTOS)

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Tales of the Crypt...okay, It's just the gym...

2009-08-17T19:30:00.004-05:00

Well I went to the gym and looked like one of those people who had never been in a gym before. Since I actually HAVE been in a gym before, I knew that, in most places anyway, the rule is that after using any equipment, a person is supposed to wipe it down with the bottle of “sterilizing” stuff and the towel they provide. It's usually situated on walls throughout the gym. Well, being one who follows rules and often sweats a lot, I performed my civic duty. However, I had to take it one step further and look like a total dork because when I went over to make an appointment with a trainer, I realized I had carried the bottle of cleaner stuff thinking it was my water bottle, which I was also carrying, so basically my arms were just full of stuff that I was apparently collecting as I walked around the gym. The gym guy, Josh, thought it was just hilarious. He said, "You have just totally entertained me." Really? Great. Well fantastic Josh. That's what I live for.

So being ambitious this particular day, after turning over the bottle of cleaning solution to Josh, I then sauntered my way over to ride the stationary bike (40 minutes total of cardio – yippee!). I smile casually at the woman on the other bike next to mine, and as I hike my massive frame to climb on the poor bike, my foot slipped out of the little stirrup. I mean, I guess my feet have gained weight too because all of a sudden they don’t fit in the stirrups right! Luckily the immense mammary glands attached to my front (otherwise called mammoth boobs) kept me from crashing into the front part of the bike, and then the bike seemed to be tipping over! The very nice lady on the next bike over said, "Are you okay?" after realizing there was no dodging the catastrophe occurring before her very eyes, and being ever so clever and witty, I mumbled, "Don’t they have any 'special' equipment for people like me?" She laughed…politely. I finished my time without any more drama and skulked out of the building, vowing to never return.

Prior to all the gym debacle, I had at least I managed to escape the grocery store without too much incident...I had stopped there on my way to the gym to get cat food (not for myself - don't worry) and found myself drifting creepily up and down the snack aisle looking for something "baked"...or whatever. Apparently I was drawing the attention of the stock guy due to my creepiness and continuous aimless meandering up and down the aisle. He asked if I was looking for anything in particular. I muttered, "No...” and then I had a minor confession and meltdown… "I shouldn't even be here!” I practically shouted at the wide-eyed frightened young man. “I'm supposed to be at the gym right now!" I must've seemed so pathetic because he, like Josh, also thought I was just hilarious. Neato. I can sure make the boys laugh. So who needs to be svelte and sexy? I mean, chubby and comical worked for Natalie on “The Facts of Life”, didn’t it? I wonder what ever happened to her…surely she is still jolly after all these years.

Nail Glue

2009-08-02T21:34:00.003-05:00

Well I can't believe I am going to share this with you, but here goes...

I am an idiot. There - I said it. Now let me tell you one of the many reasons why:

It is Sunday night. My mom and I are leaving EARLY in the morning to go visit my grandmother in Michigan. I am also going to be seeing my cousins, whom I love dearly (I mean I love my grandma dearly too, but it's different...)

So it's a proven fact that I have some disgusting toenails. I mean it. I know everybody thinks their toenails are nasty, but I have had comments made, such as "Ewwww, what happened to your toenails!?!", "Oh, we need to cover those babies up!" and years ago my niece spoke one of her first full sentences of her life and said, "You have icky toes Aunt Shermie." So that's proof... I have disgusting toenails.

My dreams of wearing flip-flops and sandals came true when I discovered fake toenails! They are exactly like the fingernails that you can buy, but they fit on your toes. I mean...wow, I couldn't believe my good fortune! The first time I ever stumbled upon them was just a few years ago, and the first couple of times I always gave my mother the pleasure of helping me glue them on. (This is just another in a long line of reasons why I could never be a mother...oh the sacrifices!) So here I am, Sunday night before my trip and I get out of the shower, dry off and decide to place my toenails on my toes...by myself. Neat, huh? You can maybe see where this is going - straight to Disaster Land. All goes well with the first foot. All five toes each have their properly placed nails and do they look GORGEOUS!!! Oh I am so proud, especially considering I am not a monkey and with my rotund middle section, I am having trouble reaching my feet.

So on to the other foot. First toenail, great. The big toe is the easiest really. Second toe - cool. No problems. Third toe is getting to the tinier nails. I put the super nail glue on the back and start to press it to my toe. Oh, wait...it's sticking to my finger. The glue must have come off by now, so a little more glue will work. Okay - oops. Nope. Sticking to my finger now is the fake nail, oh and now my other finger is also sticking to my finger. Somehow the toothpick thingy that comes along with the kit to help press the nails on is also stuck between my fingers that are stuck together. Most certainly if I am patient, the fingers will separate a little. Ow ow ow. Oh my god. Am I really this moronic?

I somehow get up off my living room floor (a site I am certainly glad I didn't have to watch) and go to the kitchen. Warm water will soften the glue and my fingers will easily come apart. No. That is not true. With my free hand I reach in and find a paring knife. I know...I know what you're thinking. Really? She is this idiotic that she is now reaching for a knife? Yes. My plan is to cut the glue, NOT my finger. Oh the burning - when I try to pull my fingers apart, I find it hard to believe people cannot use this method to get rid of their fingerprints when they go to commit crimes. Ow ow ow. It hurts. And also on my left hand (the one where my fingers are all moving independently) there is a big dried chunk of super nail glue behind my index finger nail. It is hard, crusty and feels very weird. Plus it doesn't come out. So I try to ignore that and train my attention to attempting to surgically separate my conjoined fingers. I am not sure if I am actually cutting the glue, but as I pull my fingers apart, I can feel a sense of accomplishment as they are actually separating! Whoo hoo...ow ow ow. Yeah - not quite there yet. It seemed like forever but was probably just a few minutes of me using my tiny paring knife to saw at my fingers ever so slightly. But it works and eventually - ahhh. Freedom. I triumphantly wave my hand in the air and wiggle all my fingers to make sure: a) they are still attached; b) there is no blood; and c) well, a and b are enough. So yay - success! I almost...ALMOST...forgot what caused all this in the first place until I saunter back into the living room amazed at the genius that is me and that I didn't end up at the emergency room needing a real surgeon. Then... the reminder. There are the rest of my nails on the floor, along with the tube of super nail glue, and I look down at the two fake-nail-less nails remaining on my foot.

"Why, I can hardly see them anyway, " I say outloud to no one in particular, "so I can just leave those go." I am not brave enough to tackle those pesky little tiny toenails that are all scrunched up anyway. Probably by the time I wake up in the morning I'll have to go digging through the bedsheets to find those that popped off during the night anyway. So, needless to say, I am having difficulty typing this. "Why?" you ask. "Is it the sheer embarrassment of being such a nitwit that you are having trouble sharing your story?"

No. Duh - I can't feel three of my fingertips and I am having difficulty typing this! Jeez.

July 27

2009-07-27T13:20:00.006-05:00

Monday, July 27, 2009: Happy Birthday to my little Mabel - she is now ONE whole year old...in this picture she was only 6 weeks! She's my baby - I can't believe how fast time has gone by!

So anyway, back to reality...as you may remember from a previous post, I of course am having car trouble due to the fact that I purchased a lemon in the form of a Mercedes Benz (no, it's not yellow hardy har). Remember how my window would roll down but not back up? Okay...well it got worse than that. My neighbor downstairs one night knocks on my door to tell me, "Something's leaking from your car." Reaaaaalllyyy now...what a shocker! So we head down there to check it out... keep in mind this particular neighbor is a young black female but she enjoys dressing like a boy - baggy shorts, skull caps (if that is the right term) and basketball type jerseys, etc. So I walk up to my car without my keys and of course the window is down, so I just reach in and pull the lock up. Oh boy - I discovered the one thing that works for sure on my car is the alarm. Lights start blinking, the horn is blaring - I said, "Holy crap! I don't have my keys...I'll be right back!" So I start running (as much as my BMI, bad knees and bum hip will allow) and yell back to her, "Just wait right there!" and she looks at me with big eyes and says, "Hell no!" I realize what a ridiculous thing that was to say, since the chances of the cops believing that she was just there waiting for me were slim to none! Luckily it didn't take me long to get my keys and huff and puff my way back out there to shut the dang thing off. Wow.

Long story short, the leaking was antifreeze and my water pump had gone out. Oh just probably around $400-500. No problem. So I make arrangements to take it back to Jimmy (my new BFF) when I get paid next Friday, so in the meantime I am driving my brother's van. And a lovely van it is, I might add. I think it's a Plymouth from around 1990 maybe? Let me tell you though, this van has windows that roll up AND down, it has air conditioning, AND it runs!!! So please know I love this van, but I must admit a beauty it is not.

So I am on my way home from work around 12:30 this afternoon. First, a truck of some sort pulls up alongside me while I'm putting along Manchester Road, and I'm thinking maybe they want to race. There was a day I would've looked over and maybe shot them a cute look that said "You wanna go?" but not today. I am not feeling it...so on I go. Eventually I pull up to a red light and wait to turn left. I'm rocking out to KC and the Sunshine Band on the oldies station. The sound quality reminded me of when I was a kid and we actually listened to music on the AM stations. I'm feeling good though, happy, and then up next to me pulls a convertible with this long-haired (thin) blonde listening to some type of rap music, probably a CD. I felt myself sort of shrink a little, but tried to pull myself together enough to sit up straight and feel proud to be in a 1990 Plymouth van. I am sure all she wants is attention and looks from men and women - looks of lust from the men and jealousy from the women. But I showed her because I kept my eyes straight ahead on the red light and waited for the green arrow. I played my own game of racing her and actually gunned the gas, pulled into the intersection a nose in front of her sporty self, and then as van shifted itself into gear it seemed to remember its age. I am grown up and beyond all that petty stuff though...right? I mean we do get over the jealousy at some point in life - would I have made a snipey remark to one of my friends if they had been in the car/van with me? I told myself that before she pulled up to the light, she was probably listening to KC and the Sunshine Band on the oldies station too, but as soon as she slowed down she switched it to try to feel cool. Why in the world would that make me feel better? Jeesh.

I'm thinking it was just the moment. I don't think I normally would've even noticed if I'd had a friend with me and we were talking and stuff. I am chalking it up to allergies. That's always what I use when I have no other real explanation.

I could go on and on as this becomes some form of therapy for me, but I must go and blow my nose. My allergies are really acting up today...

July 7

2009-07-07T23:26:00.002-05:00

Holy cow man...what a day.

I have no children. I have 4 cats. Yet somehow my life has become a daily ritual of Murphy's law. People who think my life is easy because I'm not a mom or married, I have news for you... my life should be a breeze but instead - well, no. I strive for an easy breezy life - I try not to get bogged down with responsibility, cooking, cleaning or whatever else I can try to let slide by. I am sort of like the kid in class who acts like they are busy thinking so they won't get called on by the teacher...

I have a part-time morning job and today it only consisted of a meeting that really just went over my head. Especially when a woman who has seriously magical powers of putting me to sleep almost instantaneously the minute she starts talking came into the meeting and sat right next to me. Uh oh. I told my friend later that I was going to record her at the next meeting so that when I have trouble sleeping, I can pop in a tape and - snap - out like a light. It'll save me from reading big books, like the bible.

This was made worse by the fact that allergies had attacked my eyes during the night, so they were a lovely shade of red with what felt like twigs sticking into them, and goobery. Terrible. I must've just looked frightening - so anyway, this all sounds boring but the best was yet to come. I had mentally planned to go home to a nice nap, maybe checking out the Michael Jackson memorial on TV...you know, the perfect life of a single woman with no major responsibilities.

Well, the nap never happened. I got home and did a few things around the apartment - nothing productive mind you - and went in to check out the memorial. Holy crap. I lost it when they wheeled in the casket and I was nonstop waterworks for the next 1-1/2 hours! Did THAT ever help my eyes look and feel better - oh 100%. I just don't know what hit me - the music, the stories - just when I thought nobody else could get me, here comes everybody up on the stage to sing "We Are The World"...oh man, are you trying to kill me here??? I was literally sobbing. Just keep that between us though, okey doke?

So, no nap, eyes on fire and now swollen shut from crying, a headache, and lo and behold it's time to get to work. Of course it's very busy - we have people out on vacation so it tends to spill over, so I try to stay focused. A few hours in, I realize - I am hungry. Off to the kitchen to try to find something somewhat healthy and decide on my Boca Burgers in the freezer, but I will add a slice of cheese to make them better. I also crammed some steamed green beans into the microwave - you know the kind that steam in the bag and turn out perfectly? Love those.

What I don't love is the electrical system of my apartment. It is old. Very old. I should've known...cook either the Boca burgers on the electric skillet OR steam the beans. Yep - fuse blows. Please insert the "F" word here pretty loudly. And then...dammit! Normally it's not that big of a deal - just get the flashlight and head downstairs to change the fuse, right? Nope. Not in the Murphy's law world that has become Shermie's new world. No spare fuses left. Also, none of the fuses are marked well, if at all, and that makes it a bit difficult to know which one needs to be changed - at least not to my untrained, red, itchy, goobery and now swollen shut eyes. Crap!!! So I run to the grocery store (yes they have fuses by the batteries and stuff) but of course I buy the wrong kind and being on the second floor is no favor to my obese BMI when trudging up and down the stairs to see if the fuse I had just changed was the "one" - and throughout all of this drama, I'M SUPPOSED TO BE WORKING!!! Well, the fuse that blew also took out the use of my landline phone and of course I haven't paid my cell phone bill in forever, so I can't use that. I trudge downstairs to my neighbors to borrow the phone. She is not in a good mood but she has teenage girls so I can understand that; plus I think she was hungover from the last bender. She hands me a cell phone and I trudge back upstairs. The emergency guy answers and asks what number can I be reached at? I hem and haw and then admit that I just don't know. Can I call him back? Back downstairs to Crabbier-than-Me-Even, who writes down the number for me. Eventually I talk to my landlord. Normally (due to the convenience of having people come fix stuff without it really costing me) I love renting and highly recommend it, but they can't get anyone out here until morning. You mean - I have to brush my teeth in the dark? Well, luckily I have a very strong familiarity with where my teeth are...but I'm more worried about having to move my alarm clock to the hallway outside my bedroom? Yikes - I have a dr. appt tomorrow (OB/GYN - lucky me! - more on that tomorrow...maybe.)

So currently I am finished with work, my eyes are blind, and I have to go fumble through the bathroom to get ready for bed, which I actually am looking forward to some sleep, and peace I hope. Some day I will tell you about my dream life though - it is very often more exciting than my awake life!

I know it doesn't seem like much to people who juggle work, cooking, family, errands, blah blah blah...but come on, I am striving for mundane here. I guess I can always hope for a dream about...well...sleep.

Sayonara - more tomorrow!

Fredbird

2009-07-05T17:54:00.002-05:00

FREDBIRD – STALKER?

I grew up in St. Louis, but you don’t have to be a Cardinals fan to know about the team mascots, or as I call them – major annoyances. I am of the opinion that they are strictly in place to “entertain” (or as I call it petrify) children…I mean, true sports fans are excited by the actual actions on the field, ice, or court, whichever sport you choose. True sports fans don’t need the antics of an oversized bird, hot dog, stalk of wheat or even the occasional unidentifiable character to get those competitive juices flowing.

I’d say when I was about 12 years old, I hadn’t really formulated that opinion yet. I didn’t have any opinion of Fredbird, our local view-blocking, T-shirt catapulting, putting-the-beak-over-the-head nuisance…not that I have formulated any opinion now.

It all started then at the age of 12 or 13 – I’m referring to my “Fredbird Feud”, of which he knows nothing about. I’m at a Cardinals game with my sister and her friend. We happened to be in a section where Fredbird came cruising by, shaking hands, smothering heads with his squishy beak, and being otherwise a pain in the gluteus maximus, but I was happy to reach out to shake his feathery hand. He shook my sister’s hand, her friend’s hand, and then – to my horror – SKIPPED my little tiny outstretched hand to put his beak over the head of a child on the other side of me, probably traumatizing such child for the remainder of her life. For reasons I cannot explain, my ego was SO bruised that to this day, 30 years later, I still get pretty ticked off thinking about my little hand hanging out there – dissed by Fredbird, although now I realize he can’t possibly get everybody’s hand, but still…

The pain didn’t go away as it should have. A few years later I’m at a game with a friend of mine and we had gotten down to the field box level before the game to watch the goings on that occur. Well, lo and behold, there is Fredbird charging around on the field, apparently warming up to annoy the masses when they show up in about 1/2 hour. Not yet having reached a maturity level to be proud of, my bruised ego reared it’s ugly head and I shouted, “I hate you Fredbird!” He heard me alright because he looked in my direction and started rubbing his eyes like he was crying – smart ass that he is. He is probably used to people shouting that at him now that I think about it.
This is when the strange “Fredbird phenomena” started.

I don’t remember why, but around age 15 or 16, I was at the airport one night and remember seeing a guy walking through the terminal – and he was carrying FREDBIRD’S HEAD! Weird…okay, I could let that go as coincidence. At age 17 I was working at a restaurant on a Saturday afternoon. It happened to be my turn to wash dishes back in the kitchen. I’m working away scrubbing pots and pans, when out of the corner of my eye I catch of glimpse of something that does not seem to belong in the kitchen….FREDBIRD!!! What the ???? My immediate response, unfortunately spurred on by that bruised ego I mentioned earlier, was to yell (in a very intimidating way, I might add) - “Get out of here Fredbird!” and then I shot at him with my ever-powerful water hose. He was gone in a flash, causing me to question whether what I had just seen was real. Great. Why is Fredbird continuing to appear in my life at such odd moments?

Well, it just gets weirder. Fast forward a few more years…I’m about 24 years old and living in Iowa. Yes, you heard me right – IOWA. I’m leaving my job from a small hospital as I always do, having to walk through the lobby to the exit. Guess who’s walking out the door directly in front of me? Yes…you are correct – FREDBIRD. I mean, come on now…IOWA. I was so caught off guard that even my bruised ego could only come up with “Where are you going Fredbird?” and even though I tried to make it sound angry, it’s simply not a question that comes across as angry. What surprised me was the response, “Outside” he growled. So then I condescendingly told Fredbird that he is not supposed to speak. It was the best I could do because I was in Iowa. I was starting to wonder if perhaps Fredbird was a bit of a stalker.

Other than a few small “accidental bumpings” at Cardinal games, my contact with Fredbird laid low for quite a few more years. No weird chance encounters to speak of…the bruised ego might have dwindled away to nothing, but then came the biggest, ugliest Fredbird altercation of all.

Let me set this up for you. It was a Sunday and I was participating in a walk-a-thon for charity. I’m not going to lie to you – I was HUNG OVER. Homemade margaritas the night before had really done me in…and worst of all I had to be at work at 7:00 that morning, where I spent most of my time, what’s the term – kissing the porcelain something or other. You get my point. I was not feeling well but I had committed to this so I left work and went directly to the event around 11 a.m. I had a baseball hat on to help keep that pesky sun out of my bloodshot, squinty eyes. Nevertheless, I was able to get registered and met up with my friend, Susie, to wait for the start of the walk. Susie saw someone she knew so she went to say hello and I sat down at a picnic table to try to pull myself together. Then it happened… he approached me. Yes, it was Fredbird. I tried to be nice and explained to him that he needed to leave me alone, but the big red Avian flu pusher would not leave.
“Please Fredbird,” I pleaded. “I’m not feeling well and I don’t want to be your friend.” Well, Fredbird, being the tremendous A-hole he is paid to be, decides to reach out and grab the bill of my cap, and then proceeds to shake my head back and forth. I warned him that I would perhaps…what’s it called…PUKE…all over his big shiny yellow feet. Oh he really enjoyed that and apparently wanted to see if he could accomplish just that. I could feel a major scrap coming on – my fists clenched and my blood pressure was cooking. I was just trying to muster up a dehydrated weak right hook to clock Fredbird in his big bird belly…when all of a sudden there was Susie! Oh my friend…she knew my history with this ridiculous beast and apparently, while talking with her friend, had glanced over to see Fredbird gripping my hat and me with my fists ready – I can only imagine the true fear that must have gripped her by the sheer sight of that – and she rushed over to break up the row. She said, “Fredbird (actually I think she called him Fred), I’m serious – you need to leave her alone.” For some reason he believed her and off he went to harass another victim – crisis averted. Susie later told me that her biggest fear was what the headlines of the paper would read – “Volunteer attacks Fredbird at charity event” and she didn’t think that would go over well. I personally think many people would have thanked me for cleaning his clock.

Mary Tyler Moore

2009-07-05T17:52:00.000-05:00

Wednesday mornings were different from other mornings. The owners of the restaurant we worked at came in for meetings, so some of our opening chores were put off, like vacuuming. Jeff and I worked the mornings just about every day together, so it didn’t take long for us to get the restaurant ready to open for the hectic lunches that occurred daily. We were fortunate to work in a very nice, well-known and well-liked place that was busy almost all the time – lunch, dinner, weekends – and it was one of the “places to be seen.” We attracted celebrities regularly, mostly of the sports variety, which was a lot of fun for me, but also actors, politicians, and yes, even a Miss America (who by the way was later dethroned, hint…hint).

So, there we were, my cohort Jeff and I, all ready to go with still another 1/2 hour or so before opening the doors and welcoming the masses…what to do? We were bored, and let’s face it, we know that idle minds are the devil’s workshop.

We wandered around for a while, chit chatting about this or that, double checking the silverware, glassware, and did we have enough iced tea prepared? Sure we did. Well let’s wander on up to the reservation book, shall we? Let’s flip through it…nothing too exciting. We would change all that. “Let’s make up a reservation!”

We sat across from each other recalling this story over lunch 20+ years later. Of course it was a major story in both of our minds and we laughed and laughed as if we had pulled off the biggest bank heist of all times, especially since nobody ever found out it was just little ole us…

I had said, “Let’s put down Robert Redford!” Of course everyone would be excited about that, am I right ladies?

“Too obvious,” is how Jeff described my selection. “Let’s use Mary Tyler Moore!” Mary Tyler Moore? Don’t we want people to actually care about this reservation? His little face was very excited though, so that’s what we went with…after flipping ahead about 2 months into the future, we carefully wrote “M T Moore, 4 – ***VIP***” in the 7 p.m. slot. If we made it for 5 or more people, then we had to get a phone number, so four it was! Hee hee, we giggled, just so very proud of ourselves, and off we went to await the chance to fill water glasses, bring bread and clear plates from the tables. By the end of the day, we had completely forgotten about the reservation that, in my mind, nobody would really care about anyway…

Fast forward about 6-7 weeks…approximately 1 or 2 weeks prior to the date of our visit from Mary Tyler Moore, or should I say, the results of our boredom. Life went on as usual, but there were murmurings and stirrings…

Now at this stage of the story, Jeff and I have varying memories; let’s just say the journey may have been different, but the results were very much the same.

All the whispering made Jeff and I start to squirm just a bit, but we also figured it would all pass by…all these whisperings and murmurs were about Mary Tyler Moore!!! Oh…my…gosh.

I should point out that one of the owners of this particular restaurant is a well-known sports figure who happened to work at one of the largest radio stations in town at that time. One of the rumors I later heard was that our boss’s boss (the owner of the radio station) wanted to know why in the world was MARY TYLER MOORE coming to our city for no other reason than to eat at this particular restaurant??? Of course he had no answer… oops.

Thanking my lucky stars, I worked during the lunch shift on THE BIG DAY and hightailed it out of there before any suspicions arose and the truth was revealed. Jeff says he worked that night, but I remembered us both being off…I guess he would know, so we’ll go with his version.

Of course, Mary Tyler Moore, America’s sweetheart and the All-American girl herself, was a no-show. Uh oh.

I didn’t need Jeff working that night to tell me that the managers, who had all arranged to be there to greet Miss Moore, were HOT, as in under the collar, fuming, P-I-S-S-E-D, to say the least. So…it was not easy, as I do not possess a poker face, but it was necessary to save my job (and possibly my life) to pretend to be shocked that anyone would do such a thing! I mean…really!!!

The managers didn’t want to let this go – they were determined to get to the bottom of this mystery and somebody was going to pay…holy crap. So, when asked, I replied brilliantly with the best lie of my life, “It must have been Fred.” Poor Fred – it wasn’t fair, but he had already been fired about a week before, so no harm, right? I was not comfortable and couldn’t believe that we had gotten in so deep…it was important that Jeff and I stuck together with our stories though, which we did. Whew. So, get this, handwriting analysts were called in! The hostesses and wait staff had to submit samples, but lucky for us, we were lowly bus persons…no suspicion fell directly on us! The perpetrators were not discovered!!! Yahoo!

As happy and relieved as I was, I must admit the guilt over the years really got to me. I looked up to my managers at that time…I was just a young high school graduate who loved my job and respected authority, especially Lou, the manager who had taken a big chance and hired me as the first busgirl the restaurant had ever had. I worked hard not to let him down, so if HE were to find out, I would be devastated.

Now in our early 40s, Jeff and I discussed the idea of going back to visit our old bosses and friends that were still around at the restaurant. Someday perhaps we would actually go eat and have someone bring us bread, refill our water, and clear our plates! “How exciting!” we decided.

That evening finally arrived. Jeff wanted to clear the air with Lou, who would be there to greet us…the thought nearly sent me into cardiac arrest, or perhaps more accurately a major bout of hyperventilation…NO NO NO. He even joked about making the reservations under the name “MT Moore” which under any other circumstance I would’ve thought was hilarious, but not in this case.

When we finally arrived, Lou greeted us and it was so wonderful to see him and give him a big hug…he was such an important person in my life at a time when I really needed someone like him to give my personality a chance to blossom, which working there definitely did. Jason, one of our former fellow bus persons, is now a manager there and also was there to welcome us. We did some quick catching up, and then Lou had to leave. After a very nice dinner and a bottle of wine, Jeff was able to convince me that we should tell Jason it was us.
I was very reluctant, so I downed a beer to help me figure out what to do. I sauntered over to where Jeff was talking to the young female bartender – I mean it was JEFF after all…he has not changed one bit in all these years. So as I walked up, she asks me, “Do you think Jason will tell Lou?” What the ???? JEFFFFFF… why can’t you keep your trap shut? Oh it was all unraveling.

As of today, when I finally got the nerve to ask Jason, “Say, not a big deal Jase (cough, cough), but did you ever mention that whole Mary Tyler Moore fiasco to Lou?” Of course, I played it down to as low of a level as I could muster…

Jason says, “Not yet…”
Hmm. The saga continues.

Meet Shermie...

2009-07-05T17:15:00.007-05:00

It’s me, Shermie! I hope this day finds you doing well!

I will tell you a little about me…I am 42 years of age, single, and considered by my latest Body Mass Index to be obese. I live a pretty average life, although in my mind I am SO much more and even though I’m over 40, I still feel I am destined for greater things. Sometimes I think I’m still in my 20s with my whole future ahead of me, and that’s the way I act and think. There have to be millions of other people out there of all ages who still think their best days are ahead of them, wouldn’t you agree?

Things here are the usual weirdness and “mellow chaos” that is my life. Of course the car I just bought from those squirrely dudes down at that car dealership is starting to show its true colors. So much for trying to support local small businesses. Luckily I haven’t really needed the air conditioner too much lately, but my driver’s side window is now getting stuck – unfortunately only in the DOWN position!! I can’t believe it. So anyway, I get home from the part-time job the other day (more on that in a minute) and of course my window won’t go up. I know what you’re thinking – why do you keep putting it down? Well, that would be a good question. Let’s just move on from that. Okay – I forget sometimes and automatically hit the switch to lower it. When I do remember, I have tried having the sunroof, passenger side window and back seat windows on both sides rolled down and then I feel stupid because MY window is still rolled up. It looks stupid. I guess I would look more stupid driving home in a downpour with my window down, though, wouldn’t I? Hmm…good thought. I should just get that air conditioning checked out…I say I haven’t needed it, but haven’t I really?

So back to my original story. I was inside working in my office when I thought to myself, “I’d better go try to roll my window up before it gets dark.” If I give it a little time, it will usually work again. So out the door I go, after waddling with my creaky knees and sore hip down my zillion steps. What is this on my front door? Why, it looks legal. My neighbors have one too. We live in a duplex. I’ll get it when I come back up from fixing my car window. Luckily that didn’t give me too much grief…after a little maneuvering of the button, the window reluctantly went back up. So let’s check out this paper.
It looks as though the owners of my building have been slacking on their payments, so some type of measure is being taken – you know I don’t get one little iota of legal-speak. Not one. I did see one word – FORECLOSURE – which sort of jumped out at me…yikes! Wait – they just passed a law protecting renters from landlords who don’t pay their mortgages, so I should be okay. I will call my property manager in the morning to see what’s up, right? She didn’t know. I faxed her the legal looking papers. I am telling myself that I am NOT going to have to try to move 4 cats and myself with no money somewhere within 90 days. I have not heard back from her, but it’s the July 4 holiday, so probably she’s busy. And no news is good news…?

Where would I go? Don’t know. I’ll keep you posted on that.

So back to my part-time job. It is such an interesting place for me to be working. I am definitely in the minority as far as the liberal/conservative opinions go, but it’s not something you can really ask people about. Tracy, the person I work most closely with, is clearly on a different page from me as far as politically and otherwise, but luckily we can laugh it off most of the time if any type of discussion arises. For example, this one that happened the other day…I am sitting at my cubicle working away, focused and basically happy. I hear from her cubicle next to me, “I am going out on a limb and saying that Pooh is gay.” Well, okay. I felt compelled to go see what triggered such an outburst. She is searching for decorations for her new baby’s nursery, which I will go out on a limb and say Winnie the Pooh style is not an option.

She continued on about how much of a wuss (sp?) Pooh is. I said, “How can you hate Pooh? He’s all about peace and love.”

“RIGHT!” was her response. “I just don’t get his world of all sparkles and sunshine.” Oh boy. Even though I have learned her husband is a rootin’ tootin’ member of the NRA and RNC, and knowing that she grew up in Kentucky, a more conservative-leaning state, I was still taken aback by the hostility! She is very funny, and even though I don’t agree with her anti-peace and love attitude, she is really pretty cool. She goes on to tell me the story of taking her 2-year-old junior NRA member son to Disney (I don’t remember which one so I’ll leave it at Disney). She said they had made reservations for breakfast but when they got to the specific restaurant she asked for, they said she was signed up for a different restaurant and they couldn’t accommodate her at this particular venue (I’m thinking it was pirates and stuff like that)… of course she asked where WERE they supposed to be?

Unfortunately, the response had to do something with Winnie the Pooh. She made them acutely aware of her feelings for Pooh, exclaiming to them, “I hate Pooh! Why would I make a reservation there? I’d rather take my son to see princesses and fairies!” Needless to say, they were taken to a table right away. Yikes! I mean, I hate that little toilet paper bear and the little bear from the fabric softener sheets, but they aren’t Winnie the Pooh! I mean, what about “The Tao of Pooh”? It's a book about getting through life as Pooh does, simply and peacefully. I have it (somewhere but can't find it) and I would take it in to show her but I’m afraid that with her world views, book burning is still encouraged. The humor brings us together though. I suggested perhaps she would like Pooh more if she knew that he is an active NRA member? She basically said he’d have to be, but that it still wouldn’t probably work.

Now I am 42 years old and still learning about people and how they tick. I am in a place where I get frustrated with people with opposing views than mine, but I try to keep my mind open enough to understand where they are coming from – does that make sense? It’s a difficult place to exist, but it’s necessary so that I don’t become too closed minded but also to not be a doormat. In this situation, be sure to learn as many proven facts as possible about as many of your passionate topics as possible. Knowledge is power...that is my advice for the day.

Here’s another story along those same lines that confuses me a little. You may or may not know this, but my brother is Catholic. He hasn’t been all of his life, but he is now. So the other day the news about Michael Jackson is just starting to spread like wildfire and he calls to see if I’d heard the news. I said, “Yes!” and he continued on to say that now Michael Jackson has to stand in front of Jesus and answer questions about what he did to those little boys. Whoa...my first thought was to say, “Well it’ll be a while with all those priests lined up in front of him…” but instead of that I went with, “Doesn’t he have to check in with that dude at the gates?” He said, “You mean Peter?” but he said it as if I were a complete ingrate. I said, “Yeah, Peter – I guess I won’t do well on my test.” He said, “No.” I said, “I’m going to ask Peter, didn’t you sing Puff the Magic Dragon?” and then my brother said he had to go and get the groceries inside. He sounded as if he couldn’t believe he had actually called me in the first place, even though we get along just fine when I’m not dogging his religion. I respect my brother's right to believe what he believes, I really do. Anybody who finds strength and peace through whatever means, I'm all for it. Just please don't judge me because I don't believe what you believe.

That’s what I don’t get – why is it when people find religion and talk about Jesus, they usually become exactly the opposite of what Jesus was supposed to represent? My brother generally tries not to become judgmental, but I believe his religion encourages him to. Wasn’t Jesus about love, tolerance, acceptance and turning the other cheek? Why then, when people “accept Jesus into their lives as their Lord and Savior” do they become judge and jury in the trial of life? Anyone who doesn’t believe what they believe or follow their particular faith is a degenerate. I’m not just talking about Baptists, Christians, Catholics or really any particular religion, but just ORGANIZED religion, I guess… any ideas on this topic? I welcome them.

So I am following this weight loss program that I ordered after I heard and read some good things about it. Umm…I just ordered the 2-week plan for a boost to get started on losing weight and giving up my Obese status on the BMI index. I am on day 3. I liked it because it is basically easy – they provide 5 small meals (oatmeal, bars, shakes, etc) and I only have to fix ONE meal. I like that ratio. Except that one meal is becoming a real problem for me. I only have to fix a little piece of meat and something green. It’s hard for me. I am not able to do much in my little kitchen that becomes hotter than hell in the summer. I keep telling myself I would do better if I had more room to move around, but I guess I don’t know if that’s true. I think it is though. So anyway, I’m only on day 3 and this has become a stressor in my life. I just need to start walking again, but between my knee and my hip, I have pain…I just have pain. I am really even sitting here writing this to you with my whiny face on, racked with pain.

Welcome to Shermie's world!