Tuesday, February 28, 2006

No wonder I can never remember anything

For the longest time, I knew all the phone numbers of everyone in my life. I was a walking directory. Of course, it was easier before the technology boom - no need to remember area codes for local calls.

Then came the dreaded "speed dial" option on the telephone. I haven't remembered a number since then. Phone numbers went from seven to ten to two digits.

Then came along the mobile and the ability to store numbers as names. No longer did I need to remember the "speed dial list". I just push a button, search for name, and [SEND]. And least we forget the ability to check "last call dialed", "last call recieved", and "missed call" on the mobile.

My brain is mush.

So, how many passwords do you remember for your computer? Or are they all auto-saved?


Apologies to my doctor

I had no idea how screwed up things are at the frontline of the medical world.

My doctor DID call me back today. Twice. She listened, surmised, and prescribed. Z-Pac fer me! Yippee!

Before I talked to my doc, I talked to the office manger, whom I've known for over ten years. She actually called me first thing this morning to tell me the doctor would definitely call me back today and she'd call my cell. I thought that was damn nice of her.

Then she proceeded to tell me how insane the office was with people calling in with all kinds of ailments. Judging by the ratio of people out sick to those that are well in my office (6:7), I completely believed her. She apologised about yesterday. I told her it was my dumbass fault for not getting the phone (which was the truth). She also apologised about not being able to fit me in for an appointment.

"We're booked solid. I'm afraid of over booking. That just makes it all worse."

Poor woman. Having to listen to people rant and rave and bitch all day long must work the nerves.

As much as I rant and rave and bitch about my doctor and the staff, I have been there for 18 years. They're good doctors and they've treated my family well (my mom and dad got here also). Granted, a couple of the office workers are a bit dim, but on the whole, they're pretty good.

(See, CP, I do understand)

Boy, I work with some really sick people

Seriously, I'm not kidding.

The staff in the office are dropping like flies at a bug zapper.

Just today, not one, not two, but three people have been confirmed with mononucleosis. Nice. Luckily for me, I had it already, so I safe.

Of course, we have that lovely stomach flu going around. I think a couple of people have that one. I also think Geo has that as well. Peachy.

And then we have the good old fashion headcold with sinus infection mixed in. I'm the winner there.

I might not go in tomorrow depending on how heavy my head feels when I wake up.

A doc is only as good as the office they keep

Called the doc's at 9:15 AM and got their "our office is closed" answering machine. WTF? They are supposed to be open at 9. Lazy buggers.

Waited from 9:15 AM until 1:30 PM for my doctor to call. In meantime, the pharmacy calls. Dinks asthma meds are ready. Perfect. Flipped a coin, bundled the child, jumped in the car, and went to get meds. Came home. Doctor's office called and left a message.

Do these bastards have radar? They either call back when I step far away enough from the phone that I can't get it in four rings, or I step out to do something. That "something" could be as benign as picking up the mail from the post box.

So I call right back. Answering machine. Again. This time the message was "We're on break". Okay. No prob. We all have to eat. Left message two - slightly sterner.

Waited and waited and waited. Watched brain melting children's television shows. Kipper is quite the philosopher. Waited and waited and waited. Got conned into playing Candyland. I hate that game. Waited and waited and waited. Decided to pull energy together and clean the house. Well, I vacuumed. Talked to my mum. Gave her the 411. Waited and waited and mother lovin' waited. Cooked dinner. Geo came home.

Phone rang! But only Dinks heard it (it was in the bedroom).

She yells, "I get it, I get it!" I realize what she means, run, stumble over child, grab phone and pacify trampled child, and it was dead (the phone, not the child). Checked Caller ID. Yep! It was them. Called RIGHT back. GOT.THE.ANSWERING.DEVICE.AGAIN! And it was the "Office is closed" message. ARGH!

If it was a cuss word, it was being used. In my head. I didn't want to cuss in my message. but this message was sterner and hinted of being beyond annoyed.

Now, I'll call them today and get "Well, we did call you twice!" Fair enough. They did. They had nine hours to call me and they called twice. So, after I barrage them with annoying calls and or messages, AND I get my friggin appointment and the drugs I need, I'm switching doctors.

Monday, February 27, 2006

Not feeling all that well

Felt ill all weekend long. Poor Geo had to put up with my whiny ass. God bless him for not shooting me. I might skive off today and lounge like a lizard in hopes of getting better, or I might actually heed my mother's advice and see my doctor.

That latter one will just kill me.

Mild Blog Entertainment

Mr Fab and CP told me of this place. So naturally, I had to check it out.

Friday, February 24, 2006

Potty Training Toilet Paper

I saw this last night in the Acme, and had to do a double take. And now it's in the news??

New Potty Training Toilet Tissue

Yeah, okay. Another potty product thanks to some wonderful market research study group. Who the hell did they research? Not me!

It's toilet paper! There is never anything exciting about it.

The last thing I want is my child to pay more attention to the paper than the job at hand. Don't these marketing research morons realize toddlers have a 4 second window to their attention span? Get the kid too interested in the toilet paper, and they might forget to flush it. Said toddler may run out of the potty, butt naked, to show mommy and daddy the yellow/brown puppies.

Oh joy!

Paw prints per square with every fifth a picture of a puppy. Um, yeah. I'd be afraid of the child grabbing the end of the roll and pulling it like he/she's starting a lawnmower, seeing if they can make puppy run.

I think I"ll pass on this product.

Thursday, February 23, 2006

Hot dogs! Getch-ya Hot Dogs Here!

Geo is thinking of buying a hot dog concession cart ... again!

That's right,
the idea from last summer never died.

Now that we have a big truck with a hitch, it seems the hot dog thing has reared its head once again. I personally thought of it again, too.

We can probably afford a decent cart now. I have already figured the financials and the business management end. It could feasibly work out in two years time. He can stay at the mill, buy a cart or trailer and keep it in storage, pay down our bills (which calculated will take about the two years), and then take the cart out of storage and start his own business.

We'd even put the Dinks in a hot dog costume with a cute little shirt that says "My daddy says Bite Me" and have her dance for the patrons. Heck, her tips alone would be her college fund.

Here's the rub:

Geo has a really good job at the steel mill.

Okay, the hours suck and he comes home looking like a dirt merchant and he's complaining of headaches and other bodily aches and he's miserable, etc etc etc. But the paychecks are
decent. For once, he's actually getting good pay for working like a dog.

And he has pretty good bennies to boot.

So, do we buy the cart and keep it garaged until such time?

Or, does Geo work away in a job that, though the pay is good, he truly hates?

And can Geo hold out for two years? Don't forget, my loving booboochicken is highly impatient.

What to do, what to do ...

(please note: the photo is purely for illustrative use only. We would buy something a bit newer and a lot cleaner.)

Wednesday, February 22, 2006

maidink's ponderable for the day

I know you can blow "smoke" from your mouth and nose in really cold temperatures.

Does the same go for your butt when one farts?

Tuesday, February 21, 2006

This murder case in Texas still gives me nightmares

After I read articles like this one, I get physically ill.

Doctor: Suspect Unaware Killing Baby Wrong

She cut off her baby's arms! The baby laid in her crib, crying and dying, unable to wipe away her tears or her litttle nose or the blood. And this woman didn't think it was wrong!

This particular case has haunted me since last year. This is the reason I get sick if I am stupid enough to yell at or smack Dink. This case is why I clutch my head and stomach when I think about child abuse.

For f*ck's sake, what's wrong with this world?

She was just a little baby ...

How can I get mad at a face like this?

Here she is, fresh from her first day at Miss Magnolia Thunderpussy's School of Grace and Etiquette.

Yesterday, she was issued her school uniform seen here. Today is lessons on jadedness and general sarcasm. Tomorrow, she gets to learn the basics of filing life insurance claim forms.

Good heavens but the child looks just like me.

Monday, February 20, 2006

Weekend Highlights

Geo and I got glasses. He really needs them. Actually, the optometrist told him he's close to needing bi-focals. Yeah, he's old. I have football shaped eyes (astigmatism); ergo, my eyes blur. So, instead of an occasional quick pop shot to the head for readjustment, I wear glasses.

We went to Lens Crafters, but no one-hour deal for us. Geo gets his today and I get mine in two weeks. WTF? It used to be glasses in an hour or less, or you got money off or something really consumer cool like that. No more! It's like the Dominoes syndrome. Remember when Dominoes Pizza guaranteed your pizza in thirty minutes or less, or else it was free? Then it was a discount. Now it's thirty minutes or else ... well, nothing. Same theory, different industry.


Dink's is doing really good with her potty training.

Okay,there was that accident in the booth at Friendly's. And the living room. And the toilet stall in Strawbridges. That one I didn't handle well. I was screaming at the kid (well, not screaming, just loud and angry) and she was all boo-boo face and crying. I popped her in the head a few times thinking that would jump start her brain. That only made her cry and wail harder, grant me dirty looks from other bathroom patrons, and give me the crying jag of all crying jags. She was doing so well, then it was three really big ker-splashes in a row. I was beside myself. I felt like a failure. I felt she failed me. It was a pretty bad scene.

I'm calmer now but I hated myself for the past 24 hours. I didn't hate Dinks, just me. I cried because I was mean to my baby.

We're trying again today. I went on a Child Abuse website for tips on how to control anger and yelling around the toddler. I know this will help. That, and I read the Bible last night. That always seems to have an instant calming effect on me.

Thankfully, my baby still sings the "Barney Song" to me and let's me know she loves me, too.


My dad has some kind of skin cancer thing. He had it removed today. The doctor told my mom it was malignant. I told her he's gonna be fine. And he will be. My dad is one sarcastic tough old codger.


I'm putting my Wordpress blog in a temporary hold. I've been with Blogger so long, it's grown on me, though I hate it's little quirks. I have yet to decide the fate of Wordpress blog.

I'm usually a loyal customer to certain things, except ISP's and cable companies. I've booted and reupped with AOL so many times, I ran out of different screen names to create. And I left Comcast after having an account with them for eight years. Pricks and their constant statement stuffers with headlines like "Change in pricing effective xx/xx/xxxx".

I hate Comcast.


Q: What happens when you leave a Build-A-Bear gift card in the back of a pick-up truck that doesn't have a cap on it?

A: It flies on to the highway.



That's it. Chat later with y'all

Thursday, February 16, 2006

Under no circumstances will my child ever feel this way again

I posted something yesterday. As soon as it was out for the whole Blogworld to see, I deleted it.

It was a letter I wrote to Dinks daycare about something that happened to her.

I questioned whether I should post such an item. I questioned why post such an item. It's not like posting the letter would make what happened go away. I did the rational thing and put in writing on paper what occured and brought it to the attention of those that matter (owner and directors). Writing also helped me to release my anger without going completely ballistic. Multiple apologies were given to me and, I suspect, Dinks. The incident was over, so why dredge it up?

Because it happened to my child. Besides, I post everything else. Why not this?

And on a personal note, thanks for "talking" to me, CP.


February 14, 2006

Dear Owner and Director:

Let me just state for the record that I love the daycare center. What is even better than me loving daycare center is my daughter, Dinker, loves it, also. She looks forward to going to school everyday and even feels a bit disappointed on the weekends when she does not go to school.

That said, it upsets me to have to write this letter.

I am referring to the incident that occurred yesterday when I picked up Dinker.

Dinker is in the midst of potty training. We all know what fun that is for a parent and what frustration it is for the child. Dinker also has a documented problem with her bowels and that makes it even more frustrating for both parties. In my opinion, she is doing well. She has to get a rhythm down and I realize that comes in time.

Knowing she is training, I packed an extra set of clothes for her yesterday. They were in a plastic shopping bag, and hanging in her cubby space. The bag consists of a shirt, a pair of pants, a t-shirt, a pair of plain white socks, and a pair of shoes. That was her second set of clothes. Her other set of clothes are in her backpack. That set consists of a shirt, a pair of pants, a t-shirt, and a pair of plain white socks. In addition to that pair of socks, there were TWO other pair of socks in the backpack. They were a white pair of Hanes and a white pair of Baby Gap. That is FOUR pair of socks, in total, that were readily available yesterday for my child along with her two sets of clothes.

Dinker did have an accident yesterday; she wet herself. I think it was because of her little bowels. She probably had to have a bowel movement and the pressure was too much for her bladder. Again, we are working with her on that rhythm thing. I know children that are potty training are prone to accidents and I fully understand that.

When I walked in and went to her cubby to get her stuff together, one of the aides (I can never remember names but I do remember faces) gave me a plastic bag with Dinky’s clothes and told me she had an accident. As she was telling me this, I had in my hand the plastic bag of clothes that was her back-up set. I asked if she used these clothes and she said no, they used the ones in her bag (meaning her backpack). I did not think anything of it, got the rest of Dinky’s stuff together, and went into the main playroom to get her.

The “other” Miss L (not her teacher as Dinky will tell me but the second Miss L) was there and told me, also, of Dinker’s accident, and told me that Dinker was very upset about it. I thanked her for the information and she left. That is when the first aide, who brought me Dinker’s soiled clothes, told me her socks were wet, but that she put Dinky’s boots back on her. I got a chair, told Dinker to sit, pulled her boots off, and sure enough, her socks were saturated with urine. A bit upset, but not wanting to show it to my child since she was upset enough after peeing herself, I changed her socks, put her shoes on her, threw the urine soaked socks in the bag of soiled clothes, and we left.

There were four pairs of socks available to my child at any given time and your school was going to let my child leave with urine soaked socks in snow boots in freezing cold temperatures? Did someone think putting boots over urine soaked socks was acceptable? That is beyond unacceptable.

To say I am livid is a grand understatement. To say her father is livid is an even larger understatement. I am starting to think some people only do what is minimally necessary and nothing more. That is sad considering the tuition we parents pay each month for the benefit, safety, and well-being of our children. It is negative incidents, such as this, that can outweigh a thousand positives.




It was bad enough that my child felt humiliated that she wet herself, but to have her wear the soaked socks? I don't know about you, but I would think of it as a kind of punishment. At least, that's what a three year old might think.

I'm not out to get even with her daycare center by posting this letter. As you can see, all proper names have been removed.

So why post it?

I guess in some small way, posting it helps me feel vindicated.

Dogs and cats not permitted beyond this point

I took the Dinks to the allergist this morning. It was something I've been meaning to do for some time now. I have pretty bad environmental allergies. I mean, they are horrible. My allergies were the cause of my 5-times-a-year bouts of bacterial pneumonia when I was a child. Geo has pollen and cat allergies. So naturally, we assumed the Dinks had allergies.

This is one of those times were I wanted "assuming" to be completely wrong.

I have to admit, the testing today is a lot less archaic than it was when I was a child. I remember the two trays of needles wating for me the day I was tested. One tray was full of about twenty needles. The other was almost full. I got the shots in both of my arms one at a time. And for my pain, my second grade teacher bought me a Snickers bar. All in all, I considered it a decent swap for something I thought I had to to go through only once.

Getting needles that is.

Man, was I a dope.

For a while (true duration unknown), I had to get two shots a day everyday. Then it went down to two shots three times a week. Then twice a week to once a week to finally dwindling down to once a month. I did that for three or so years.

Now, I thank all that is holy for Zyrtec-D. I still have really bad allergies, but thanks to modern medication, theyare in control.

Oh, crap, the Dinks! I forgot about her. I was going on and on and on about me I forgot about the child! How silly.

Her allergies are purely environmental. We already knew she didn't have food allergies. She was on milk-based formula as an infant. Geo, bless that man, gave her scrambled eggs at six months, peanut butter at eight months, and heavens knows what else before she was a year old. if she the allergy, we would know by now.

Thank goodness she is nothing like her cousin. That poor kid is deathly allergic to peanuts, dairy anything, and shellfish. I think there is something else but I can't remember. Thank goodness for McD's and ketchup. She'd starve if they were banned from her food list.

Dammit! The Dinks!

Okay, the worst is Dust Mites. Great! Living microscopic thingys! ( Whinger, stop squirming) The dust mite allergy is pretty bad for the Dinks. It's time for some prevention attention in the house.

Next up is dogs followed very closely by cats. I swear, the red spot around the dog mark was the size of a silver dollar (the Eisenhower, not the SBA). The cat mark was just a shade smaller. All this means no trips to the local animal shelter for us.

Then there is my friend, Mr. Mold and all six types of him. Yep, throw that in the mix, too.

Then there is the obligatory pollen. Can't forget that allergy plague! And ragweed is in that category. Oh, goody!

All in all, not bad! A little Zyrtec, a little Pulmicort, and everything will be a-ok!

And no pets.

Wednesday, February 15, 2006

Yes, that is what he said

It was one of those things that makes me laugh even now just thinking of it. I had to submit it to Overheard in Philly.

And if you never read the Overheard in Philly blog, go check it out.

Cupid Meets His Match

It's the afterthought that counts

I bought my daughter's Valentine gift last month. It was a Disney DVD. I did have a chocolate heart box, but it has disappeared. No, I did not eat it.

My mom and dad bought her Valentine gifts (see, that's multiple) throughout the past two weeks. They gave her two outfits, a pink kitty (which Dink aptly named "Pink Kitty"), and Disney Princess ® underwear.

Geo's mom mailed Dink a Valentine card two weeks ago and put cash in it.

Geo bought Dink a gift last night after work at the Acme. It's a little red basket-like metal bucket filled with Hershey's Kisses ® and topped with a black and red little mylar balloon that reads "Happy Valentine's Day".

Guess which gift is at Dink's school today for Show-n-Tell?

Oh yeah, and he did buy me roses. Half-dozen, multi-colored. I know I talked a mean game yesterday; however, I'm glad he did. :smile:

Tuesday, February 14, 2006

Yeah okay whatever

I stopped counting how many posts I have read that have something to do with Valentine's Day. Even the anti-Valentine Day posts are still Valentine posts.

I don't mind Valentine's Day and never did, even when I was single.

I usually buy a little something for me as my gift to me. I always say, "if you don't love yourself, how can you expect to love someone else?" So, this year I bought me some chocolate at the Wawa. We're talking Hershey's, baby. Take 5!!! Wheeee-ha! .... What?

Geo and I already had our Valentine's Day dinner so I expect nothing from that man. And that's not a bad thing. I'm not one of those gals that insists on gifts all the time. I don't care for flowers and I don't wear jewelry. the first words out of his mouth this morning were "Happy Valentine's Day, babe". That's good enough for me.

Dink on the other hand will probably get goo-gobs of cards from school along with the obligatory candy in shades of red and shapes of heart. One little boy already told the teacher he's gonna marry Dinker when the get older. How does a mom respond to that? Anyway, Geo and I bought her a Disney Valentine DVD (she likes Mickey and Co.) and a little chocolate heart box. Oh, and a card from Mommy and Daddy. Awwwwww.

To all of my blog buddies, I give you a great big hug and kiss! MWWWWAAAAHHHHHH!!

Happy VD Valentine's Day!!

Sunday, February 12, 2006

Do not mess with the VP of the US

I read this and almost fell out of my chair.

Cheney shoots man in hunt error

He accidentally shot a man while quail hunting in TX. Quail hunting? Aren't quails those itty-bitty little birds? I mean, I can see accidentally shooting someone in a dark brown coat if your bear hunting, but the man was hunting quails.

Geo's take on it was the best.

"Yeah, some dumbass probably made a rude comment about his lesbian daughter. 'Look here, you f**king little redneck, I'm the Vice President. I'll shoot your ass and tell everyone it was just an accident.'"

You know, that wouldn't surprise me.

Oh yeah, it did snow

For once, the weather forecasters here in Philly got it right. We got hit last night into this morning with the first real snowstorm for this Winter. I figure, if you level out the drifts, we're looking at an easy foot of snow thus far.

Of course, our DirecTV bagged out on us around 8:00 PM. Dink almost had a stroke. Thankfully, we have a stockpile of books and DVDs to keep her entertained in the absence of her beloved Sprout channel. I don't care - I'd rather go without any TV than switch back to Comcast Cable.

Did anyone else here the thunder booming around 6 or 7 in the AM? I saw the flashes in my sleep and opened my eyes in time to hear the thunder. This happened a couple of times. Then I passed back out again.

I was going to do this post in my Wordpress site, but their photo uploader is not the most friendly. You can't upload from your hardrive. They insist on a URL address. So, you have to upload your photos on the net somewhere like Flickr. Not that it's a huge deal since I upload them on Flickr anyway. Still, Blogger, for all of its foibles, has a lot positives over Wordpress - positives that really count.

The photo at our upper left was taken from my porch looking south. That red Jimmy is how Geo and our neighbor will be getting to work tomorrow and probably for the duration of the week. No, Geo's new truck is worthless in this weather - it's a 2x4. That only spells out fishtail city in winter conditions such as this.

The photo on the right is a view of our driveway ... well, half of it. The vehicle in the back is Geo's Silverado. The one on the foreground is my Saturn L200. With snow included, both vehicles are double their height. I was trying to capture the size of the snow drifts (which more like fjords if you ask me).

And it's friggin c-c-c-o-l-d out thar! The blowing snow didn;t help matters. But it's winter time so what the hell should one expect, palm trees? Hence, we were all dressed for the occasion.

Now, I couldn't take a picture of me without looking like a total dork. I'll just tell you I was wearing my elegant Cabela's yellow winter ski parka with my -70 Pac Boots. I was so dressed to kill!

Now that I was dressed for the occasion, I was able to take shots of the family. Here's Geo digging out the driveway. Isn't he a sweetie? I'd help him, but oh darn, there is only one snow shovel. I think it's time to get a snow blower. I should have purchased one in the beginning of week when Lowes and Home Depot were practically giving them away.

And of course, here is the newly dubbed Queen of the Whole Universe. She is dressed so spiffy in her Dora Princess coat with faux fur collar and cuffs. Topping off the ensemble is her multi-color fleece hat, dark green scarf, light green knit mittens (which were insulated), and her pink/silver snow boots. I know you can't see the boots - trust me, the child was wearing boots.

She thought being out in the snow was pretty cool. Ten minutes later, after a big ole gust of
wind slapped her in the face with a bunch of drifting snow, she had enough of the snow and wanted inside "NOW"! Not being the kind of mom to want to disappoint my child, we went back indoors, leaving Geo to shovel.

She was inside for all of thirty seconds when she told me she wanted to go back out. Thankfully, I had only taken off her hat and scarf and threw them in the laundry room (the hottest room in our home; hence, the drying room). Back on went the hat and scarf and back out went me and the child.

Geo was shovelling the porch now. As always, the Dinks wanted to help. Again, I am not the kind of mom to ever want to disappoint my pride and joy.

Hey, look folks, it's my old washer, still sitting in front of my house, even though I have contacted the Streets Dept to have it removed. I was scheduled last week for it's removal. I'm so glad I pay taxes for this service. Idiots.

Well, Geo is done shovelling. Since he did all the manual labor (and that was a lot), I guess I'll be nice and cook for him. One last shot before I go. It's a view of our neighborhood facing North. Yes, that is an old metal milk container on my porch. And yes, that is Christmas lights on my front porch awning. I told you I'm part redneck.

Saturday, February 11, 2006

Moving ...

... my blog. Blogger has irked me one too many times with eating my posts and shutting down the server at odd times. I'm not deleting anything 'cause this might not be a permanent thing. I like some features of Blogger as I like some features of the other place at Wordpress. Wordpress could be just as bad as Blogger with quirky little things that are enough to annoy the bejeebees out of you. We'll see.

The new site is http://lifefamilyetal.wordpress.com and I already transferred everything. Let me know if you like it.

Friday, February 10, 2006

I hate my template

This is why you should never fix what isn't broken. See the previous posts? I do know how to separate paragraphs. It seems when I tried to import my blog to a new site yesterday, the importing effed up this blog. Lovely. And the other site doesn't work wither. So now I have a broken blog and a defunct blog.

I want to go home.

UPDATE: This damn thing makes no sense. Now it's working.

I still want to go home.

Sometimes, nothing makes sense

I just read about the extradition of a Briton to the US on charges of murder. I knew of the story. I read about it before today. He murdered his wife and 9 month old daughter as they slept. A .22 caliber gun. The wife in the head; dead immediately. The baby in the stomach; she bled to death. One shot each. And he flew off to England to hide. Articles mention possible financial difficulties. A dead mom. A dead infant. And now he's coming back to face families, friends, and the justice system.

Tonight, I'm going to go home with my child. We're going to watch TV. Or play Candyland (I hate that game). Or we will play Princess and Castles. I don't care what we do. I don't care if she says to me "Be quiet, Mommy" when I start singing the "Kipper the Dog" or "Big Sister, Little Brother" theme songs. I don't care if she cries that she would rather have daddy home than me. Well, I'll care a little about that one. But, really, it doesn't matter. What matters is that we're a family, and I love her with all my heart and soul.

She's my baby. I'm her Mommy. Geo is her Daddy. We have each other - that's what matters.

Tuesday, February 07, 2006

Caption The Photo

The Dinks in her Barbie Princess costume

I tried, but couldn't think of a thing.

Eden has been found; new Wal-Mart location to follow.

Scientists has discovered a "...beautiful, untouched, unpopulated forest; there's no evidence of human impact or presence" in the jungles of Indonesia.

Well, now that man has discovered it, it won't take too long until we clear it of all trees for furniture leaving the now open space as a great place to feed livestock for McDonald burgers and build a Starbucks.

New species found in Papua 'Eden'

Monday, February 06, 2006

Tattoos on a woman's lower back and pregnancy do not mix!!

At least that's the newest rumor going round the internet and e-mail system.

Claim: Women in childbirth with tattoos on their lower backs should not receive anesthetic via epidural injection.

The rumor is if you have a tat on your lower back and you're pregnant, you can't have an epidural (the anesthetic via your spine). Purportedly, doctor's won't poke a needle through a tat for fear of dragging the ink into the spinal fluid.

*maidink shakes her head*

What scares me is that people believe this crap without checking, let's say, an expert on the subject. Oh no. It's so much better to believe an e-mail that has been forwarded from about five hundred people. Yeah, now that's gospel! "My friend's co-worker's sister's best friend's boyfriend's aunt is a medical technician so she KNOWS what she is talking about."


Well thank goodness for e-mail or else I wouldn't know what the hell is going on in this world!

Potty News

Note: This is so a Mommy bloggish post so if you could care less about potty training, skip.

Dinks has been potty training for, ohhhhh, a year now. I think she's finally getting it. She had only two wet diapers this whole weekend. My goal is her fully trained by Easter. That would be so cool.

Teeth. Walking. Potty. Someone tell me the next milestone ...

Didn't finish dinner but we polished off the wine!

I will say this, if you live in the area, or close to the area of Phoenixville PA, and you don't mind dropping a mint on dinner, go to the Seven Stars Inn.

On my rating scale, it was five star. Thankfully, there were only two forks to worry about. I'm going to do an addendum to the scale to include a restaurant's point of view on beer and other spirits. For example, in the five star category, you will not find those little lucite card holders on the tables telling you the drink of the month. They also list the actual name the vineyard of origin, not just chardonnay or white zinfandel or pinot grigio. I'll work on it later.

We were warned. We were warned by a variety of sources; however, we did not heed. We were told NOT TO ORDER AN APPETIZER!

But we did.

And they were soooooo good: (description from menu) Fresh Jumbo Mushrooms Stuffed With Lump Crabmeat and Sautéed In Garlic Butter. Drool ... Yes, I did drool.

Then there was the salad. It was a salad. Eeee-yep, a house salad. Nothing inspiring here. But I did use the correct fork.

Then came supper.

Oh boy.

When the waitress and one of the busboys walked out with our food, a woman from another table saw the tray and her jaw dropped. I wanted to take a picture, but I left my camera phone in the truck. It was a sight.

Geo ordered the broiled 20 - 24 oz. cold water lobster tail with drawn butter AND had it stuffed with crabmeat, served with sautéed shrimp. There were two tails on that man's plate, one stuffed and one plain. You think that's brutal? I ordered the Surf and Turf. Surf was one of the above stuffed lobster tails but only a 12 oz. The turf was a 12 oz filet mignon cooked to medium perfection. No lie, that filet was at least 3 1/2 " tall and about 5" in diameter. It looked like a pot roast, but was so much tastier. Oh yeah, there were six onion rings about 4 or so inches in diameter. Then there were the mushrooms and, almost forgot, two vegetables per dinner. Even when it came to the vegetables, there was no sacrifice in quantity. Example, Geo ordered broccoli in butter. They brought out half a head. The man had a tree on the plate. Suffice to say, the vegetables weren't even touched.

I will not lie - we couldn't finish our food. We drank an entire bottle of Chauteau Ste. Michelle Riesling vintage 2004, but didn't finish our food. Hee-hee.

And yes, Whinger, we had coffee and dessert. As per Whinger, a fancy dinner is not complete without coffee and dessert, especially dessert. Coffee for Geo was a plain ole coffee where I had the fancy boozed up version in a huge glass complete with whipped cream! Mmmm. On the dessert side, we split a Tiramisu. I'm being polite when I say split. Geo might have had five spoonfuls. All I have to say in my defense is the man has to move quicker.

As we waddled out, all around you could hear the rustling of plastic doggie bags from other diners who couldn't possibly eat another bite.

Definitely top notch. Definitely worth the price tag. Definitely a once a year venture. Definitely going back.

Friday, February 03, 2006

The bug is still there

Okay, what about this car/SUV/something? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller? Bueller?

I told him there was a 1 in front of the 4

the Historic Seven Stars Inn
Now that you know how I rate restaurants, I can tell you that Geo is taking me to dinner tomorrow night at this really nice restaurant called the Seven Stars Inn. No, it's not a seven star napkin restaurant, but it is a five star place. Damn, this means I'll have to be on my good behavior.


And it's for Valentine's Day. Yeah, I know it's early, but we were guaranteed babysitting and the fourth is close enough to the fourteenth.

Awwwww, him loves me!

maidink's rating scale for restaurants

When it comes to eating establishments, I can tell how good a place will be by their way of the napkin.

no stars
- You must use your sleeve as a napkin. If you are in short sleeves, you're screwed.

1 star - Napkins are available - you just rip them out of the catalogs that are along the front window ledge of the joint.

2 stars - Take as many paper napkins as you want 'cause they're in one of those nifty chrome dispensers. Don't look for any silverware 'cause more than likely it's plastic and you probably won't need it anyway.

3 stars - These places normally put the napkins (still made of paper) out for you, albeit they're in a pile in the middle of your table. But at least you get silverware, usually two settings. Parties of more than two must learn to share.

4 stars - Napkins are still paper, but they are bigger and wrapped around your silverware and held together with a neat cigarband. And with a good stretch of the imagination, the band can double as a crown for the little ones. Everyone gets one so no need to share.

5 stars - Napkins are made of cloth and are on the table neatly folded along with your silverware. No, the silverware is not folded, too.

6 stars - Napkins are in some organic-like shape and sit in the water goblet at your seat. Silverware is lined up nicely in front of you. Now all that silverware might look a bit confusing since you're used to plasticware in individual wrappers. Don't fret and do as Julia Roberts did in "Pretty Woman" - work your way from the outside in.

7 stars - It don't go any higher than this. There is no napkin right away because the waiter places it in your lap as you are seated. Silverware is still stacked as above. Just use the Julia method and all will be fine. Unless you dine at the White House or Buckingham palace, the chances of this type of treatment are slim to zippo.

Heather and Richie call it quits

It's not like I look for news like this but the headline caught my eye. No offense to the couple, but I thought they called it quits a long time ago. I guess now they're making it official.

Locklear, Sambora Headed for Divorce

Thursday, February 02, 2006

Ways to scare people # 1

Switch the data reader on one of those "Your Speed" signs from miles to kilometers.

I can hear the tires screeching already ...

Please note: In the picture, regardless of the above, the fucker was speeding.

Finally answered my comments

I'd blame work, but I'm also a procrastinating tree sloth. Case in point, I still haven't written "Thank You" cards for my wedding ... in November!!!!

Wednesday, February 01, 2006

Grab butt, insert bug

Yep, I gotta a bug up my ass.

Remember how I said no way in Hell was I driving Geo's truck? I waas pretty adament about it, too.

Well, yesterday, doofus found out at the last possible second that our neighbor was going to drive them into work (they carpool to the mill if you didn't figure that one out). As he is dashing out the door, he tosses to me his keys and sayd, "You gotta move the vehicles around, babe. I'm blocking ya. Call me later." SLAM goes the door.

Maidink stands there dumbfounded. "Oh shit" was the only thing running through my head. Not only am I exhausted (thank you, Dinker), but now I have to switch vehicles?? His truck? The mammoth monster? Crap.

You know what? It wasn't that bad. His truck drives very smooth and it was quite effortless to drive. Okay, so it's not like I took it to I-95, but I DID drive it!

Now I want one.

A smaller one.

Maybe a TrailBlazer.

Someone please convince me otherwise.

Catch Up on my World

I hung out with two family members Saturday.

First was with my Mom (with Dink in tow). We shopped at Strawbridges in the Willow Grove Mall. It was actually a rather sad shopping venture and it wasn't because we couldn't find anything to buy (that rarely happens). It was because it was the last day anyone could buy something at that Strawbridges location and be allowed to return it for whatever reason. As of Sunday, 29 January 2006, all sales are FINAL. And in two more months, the doors will be shut for good. As the final part of the May Company's grand plan comes to a close, Strawbridges will cease to exist. No more Strawbridges shopping ventures in Philly. Mom and I will have to find a new haunt for our Saturday shopping excursions.

The second member of my family, who I pranced around the city with, was my cousin, Rose. I'm such a shit. We live in the same city, not fifteen minutes from each other, and I see her once every eighteen months. Feeling like a heel, I contacted her last week to see if she wanted to hang out on Saturday. She said no prob. We met up at three o'clock and headed into Center City Philly. Let me state right now that I don't mind driving one bit, but I hate sitting in Center City traffic. I was starving so we decided on heading towards Rittenhouse Square. It's a relatively snooty area with a lot of high priced shops and rather pricey eating joints. We ate at some grub at a restaurant that charged an arm and a leg. Example: a burger with fries was $15. That was my meal. My cousin was gracious enough to pay for the food which made me feel even more like a heel. She kept telling me the atmosphere of the restaurant coupled with the view of Rittenhouse Square (we ate outside) was very Parisian. I have never been outside of the continuous US so I was clueless on the analogy. My cousin is a bit more travelled than I so I took her word as gospel. We hit a Barnes and Noble and then went back to Northeast Philly. From the sublime to the ridiculous. Nothing a good ole round of choclate from the local Wawa couldn't handle. All in all, it was a nice escape for both of us.

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Sunday was "kiddie birthday party" day. We only had one to hit. It was my best friend's son's party. He turned five years old. My oh my does time fly. I've known Donna, that's the best friend, for over 20 years. Yikes!!! And she's another person who lives twenty-five minutes from my home and I see her twice a year. I have to connect with friends more often. Anyhow, the party was at a place called Jungle Jim's in Warrington PA. My best description of this place would be to take Chuck E Cheese, remove the animals, remove the crappy food and replace with snack counter, remove half the games and what's left is in perfect working order, add more things to do for the toddler types, throw in a nice bright area for kids to run around, and there you have it. Dink's went NUTS! She had so much fun, but towards the end she was hacking pretty good. Damn asthma. Donna invited us over to her house for cake, but, as usual, we had errands out the butt and couldn't. I promised we'd get together again before we had to change out calendars. This time, I'll stick to that promise.

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I love my child, I really do. But when she doesn't go to sleep until 11 on Monday night and then insist on waking up at 3, love has found it's naptime limit. She wanted to watch TV. Did you know there is this channel on DirecTV called Sprout? It's wall-to-wall PBS. Watching PBS children's shows in the wee hours of the morning is not good. I was a zombie all day yesterday in work. All I had running through my head was the theme songs for "James the Cat" and "Kipper". It was pretty bad.

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My daughter's newest favorite cartoon is Pingu. She laughs her ass off watching this show. I can't understand a damn word of what's spoken and it's mind numbing! And it's on Sprout.

Okay, I'll admit I laugh, too.

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I suggest if you ever get the opportunity to watch Sprout, check out their night host. I swear this girl is on major doses of caffeine - we're talking at least ten pots of coffee a day. Her eyes are HUGE and she never, I mean NEVER, stops smiling. I'm not bustin on her, mind you. I think she's a great host for the little ones. It's just an observation.

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Caillou is the whiniest fucker on Earth. Period.

My apologies ...

... for not blogging lately. Been busy, again. Will blog later.