tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21363463019767334262024-03-14T09:42:29.849-04:00The Iced Coffee BarOh did I mention I'm an iced coffee addict?MeezerMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00002913344233812489noreply@blogger.comBlogger58125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2136346301976733426.post-34227083760942804482016-05-29T12:07:00.000-04:002016-05-29T12:07:25.018-04:00Honoring those who lost their lives for our freedom<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: large;"> For Heroes Proved</span> </div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">In Liberating Strife </span> </div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: large;">Who more than self<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> </span></span>their country loved</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: large;">And mercy more than life</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">America America </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">May God thy gold refine</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">'till all success be nobleness</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">And every gain divine. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Picture 1: Civil War Graves</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial";">Picture 2: WWI memorial </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial";">Picture 3: WWII Memorial</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial";">Picture 4: Korean War Memorial</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial";">Picture 5: Vietnam War Memorial Highland Park, Rochester NY</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial";">Picture 6: Persian Gulf War grave plaque</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial";">Picture 7: Soldier Caskets, Dover AFB, Dover, DE</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial";">Text: America The Beautiful</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial";">Katherine Lee Bates</span></div>
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MeezerMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00002913344233812489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2136346301976733426.post-74808243823976975792012-06-04T12:22:00.000-04:002012-06-04T12:22:15.220-04:00This is what happens when there is no adult supervision<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and you tell your neighbors "sure, I'll be working but you can borrow my firepit for the campfire". </span><div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>MeezerMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00002913344233812489noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2136346301976733426.post-53751814885115112402012-02-15T13:09:00.000-05:002012-02-15T13:09:23.677-05:00I swear to (insert deity here) I live in a reality showHonestly! I think that there MUST be cameras around my neighborhood that MUST be capturing the sheer bizarreness of daily life where I live.<br />
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Cases in point:<br />
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1. bizarro nasty idiot leaf and snow vacuuming, drug dealing nutjob across the street.<br />
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2. Next to him, new neighbors! oh JOY!! She left her husband 3 months ago, moved out of a 750,000 dollar home to live in our neighborhood. she chose the 2 bedroom, 1 1/2 bath townhouse with no garage. 1300 square feet. 750,000 could possibly buy 5 duplex houses in our neighborhood. She THINKS she is a better cook than, say, Bobby Flay. In reality, most people just smile and throw out her food when she's not looking. Oh, and she moved in with a man she met 3 weeks, yes 3 WEEKS before. He's a nice guy. She is UberBitch. She is constantly complaining that he "only works construction" and doesn't make nearly enough money. Hmmmmm, I wonder why her marriage didn't work out.<br />
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3. Crazy drunk lady next door, and her 2 sons - one is just a dream, 23 years old, very nice, has manners and everything. Well, except a job. Seems that he rather enjoys not working and being able to get up at 4:00 pm and smoke pot until 9, then go out and drink until 2am. And then there's the other one. Who is now 29. And STILL has the ambition to be a WWE wrestler. RastaMcDonald. Well, at least his hair is not in dreadlocks and orange and yellow anymore. He's bald now. <br />
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4. Mid life crisis man living behind me. DUUUUUUUUUUDE. Wearing a Hooters t-shirt to street parties (and campfires, etc) whenever there's "fresh meat" does NOT make him "sexeh" no matter how hard he argues it shows off his pecs. I don't think he knows what pecs are because no one in the neighborhood cand find his. And he doesn't realize that the 22 year old bar flies only like him because he has money, and 22 year old boys do not. Oh, and his daughter is 18, so trying to date 22 year olds is just, ICKY. <br />
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5. Mother of the Universe - I have lost count of how many children she has, and I think she has too. I just chalk up any randomly appearing child in the neighborhood as hers. And we seem to get more than our share of children that no one wants to admit are theirs. Mainly because they seem to walk into trees. Alot. <br />
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6. Mid life crisis lady neighbor. Former high school class mate and girlfriend of mid life crisis man. She is dating her 24 year old next door neighbor. Oh did I mention that she has 3 children from 3 different husbands? And one of the ex husbands is currently living on her couch?<br />
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7. Over the hill rock groupie. Are you still a groupie when you are 57? I'm not too sure about that.<br />
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8. crazy cat lady. oh wait............... nevermind............MeezerMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00002913344233812489noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2136346301976733426.post-33783909771459881632012-01-30T09:57:00.000-05:002012-01-30T09:57:12.800-05:00OMG I live in bizarro worldLeaf vacuuming crazy person across the street is now using a shop vac to try and get the snow off his driveway. And his "lovely" corvette POS is in storage and he doesn't have a "winter" car anymore. Number 1 - why bother - no one uses your driveway. and Number 2 - WTF dude?MeezerMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00002913344233812489noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2136346301976733426.post-88901112745683739062011-10-18T15:36:00.001-04:002011-10-18T15:37:57.252-04:00Hey crazy personHey nut job across the street - the first time you took your hoover outside to vacuum the leaves on the driveway and front yard was funny - now it's just crazy and sad. Please stop. Buy a rake. Or a leaf BLOWER. Also, I don't think your precious fugly 1993 Corvette will die if a leaf blows onto it for more than 10 seconds, so it's not necessary to sit in a lawn chair next to your car for hours on end to remove the leaves as soon as they hit your piece of crap, er, I mean sorry excuse for a car. And one more thing, I don't think that I am putting the leaves from my tree in your front yard intentionally, as you suggested in your 10 minute cuss word laced tirade at me last night. I have better things to do, but this weekend I might just drive around collecting other peoples bags of leaves and throw them on your lawn in the middle of the night just for spite.MeezerMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00002913344233812489noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2136346301976733426.post-30931266947695397132011-09-09T00:07:00.000-04:002011-09-09T00:07:07.722-04:009/11 10 year later<a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4582/2049/1600/2996-16.0.jpg"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 130%;"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4582/2049/320/2996-16.0.jpg" style="float: left; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px;" /></span></a><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 130%;"> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 130%;">This is a repost of my 9/11/2006 post, with some new comments and thoughts.<br />
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I did not personally know anyone in the Towers, on the planes or in the Pentagon that lost their lives that day. However, I signed up to be part of the </span><a href="http://project2996.wordpress.com/2009-signup/"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 130%;">2,996 bloggers </span></a><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 130%;">to remember an individual who was lost on September 11, 2001. This is a rememberance of one of the lights that was snuffed out that day.<br />
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There are not enough words for me to begin to honor or remember. I hope that I can do a little justice to Marlyn's short life.</span><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4582/2049/1600/garcia.marlyn1.3.jpg"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 130%;"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4582/2049/320/garcia.marlyn1.3.jpg" style="float: left; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px;" /></span></a><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 130%;"><br />
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Marlyn C Garcia<br />
Age: 21<br />
Location: World Trade Center, Tower 1, 100th floor, Marsh and McLennan Cos, Inc<br />
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Miss Garcia was the valedictorian of her high school class at Bay Ridge Christian Academy. She was described as mature beyond her years. Smart. Sweet. Prom Queen. A young woman with character. Always smiling. Always nice to everyone. She turned down a scholarship to Syracuse University to remain close to her family, going instead to John Jay College, where, again, she touched so many lives with her kindness and smile. She was attending college as she worked at Marsh and McLennan. She would arrive an hour early each day so that she could leave to attend school in the afternoons. She wanted to work for the United Nations, travel, advocate for those who could not speak for themselves, to spread her light to others.<br />
She had an entire lifetime ahead of her.<br />
She had potential.<br />
She was small. She was fearless. She was determined.<br />
She loved her family. Her parents, her 2 sisters, her Uncle, to whom she wrote on Monday night, Sept 10 " I hope I get to see you Tuesday, I am going into work a little late because I want to vote" September 11 was New York City Mayoral Primary day.<br />
She was a person that any young woman should look up to as an example of a caring and loving person. Someone to stive to be like. A loving Daughter, Sister, Neice, Cousin, Friend. A shining light. </span><a href="http://www.legacy.com/GB/GuestbookView.aspx?PersonId=104859"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 130%;">In every rememberance of Marlyn that I have read</span></a><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 130%;">, everyone has described her as being one thing - an Angel. She was an Angel on earth to so many. She was, sadly, in Tower 1 when the plane hit. One of the 2,996 called Home that day. Called Home to be an Angel looking down on everyone she knew and cared about. To now spread her light from above.<br />
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9/11/2006 I cannot believe that it has been five years. The emotions and feelings I have are still as raw as they were that day. In my cedar chest in my bedroom, I have copies of the New York Daily News, dated September 12, 2001, and showing all of the horror in still photographs. I looked at them on the day I purchased them. I have not looked at them since. I cannot ever forget those pictures. They are burned in my memory. I keep the papers to remember. I don't know why. I can't forget. I will never forget. None of us should never forget, so that will not happen again. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 130%;">9/11/2009 When I wrote these words 3 years ago I could not believe the pain could still be so fresh in my heart. A couple of weeks ago, I went into my cedar chest and I looked at those papers dated 9/12/2001. I cried, gut wrenching, all out sobbing crying. And I thought about Marlyn. And I prayed that the terror for her was short. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 130%;">9/11/2010 It's now been 9 years since that horrific day. It seems a life time ago and yesterday, all at the same time. Life changed forever that day. Or did it? It seems that the more years pass, the less our collective conscious remembers - that it was hatred that took over that day. Hatred that is rearing its ugly head again - right here in our country. Among our own citizens. Intolerance. Hate. The attitude of I'm right and you're wrong and we cannot have dialog anymore. We are living in times that seem to be even more dangerous than they were 9 years ago. For the first time in my life, I'm scared for the future. It's only been 9 years and it seems we have not learned a damn thing. Did all of those people, did Marlyn, die in vain? God, I pray not. We need to dig deep inside and remember what we felt that awful day. We need to remember how, when we reached out our hands that day, there was someone there to hold them. Someone there to cry with, to grieve with. To heal with. We need to remember. We need to remember the innocence that was lost that day. We need to remember Marlyn and the 2995 others that were ripped away from us. We cannot let their lives be lost in vain and hatred. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 130%;">9/11/2011 - Marlyn did not get to live these past 10 years. She did not get to get married, have children, graduate from college, have a career. We did. We got to live, and yet we didn't change a damn thing. It's amazing how much we forget in 10 years. How much we THINK we have changed things... progressed. But we have not. We have regressed. We HAVE forgotten. It's a damn shame. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 130%;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 130%;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 130%;">On the night of 9/11/2001, we had a candelight walk in our neighborhood, led by the children. Then we all put our candles out on our porches to burn down during the night. When I light a candle tonight, as I did that night, and as I do every September 11, I will light it in Marlyn's memory. </span><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4582/2049/1600/101958_t_White%20Rose%20Bud.jpg"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 130%;"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4582/2049/200/101958_t_White%20Rose%20Bud.jpg" style="float: right; margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px;" /></span></a><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 130%;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 130%;">Marlyn Garcia I will never forget you.</span>MeezerMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00002913344233812489noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2136346301976733426.post-68806539981930799132011-08-09T10:31:00.000-04:002011-08-09T10:31:12.707-04:00Dr Scholls - you suckReally, I spent friggin $49 for your fancy dancy orthotics for my poor aching feet. My heels feel like I'm walking on burning glass. So, I go to the local wally-world and get on that fancy shmancy Dr Sholls machine thing, look like a dink rocking back and forth, picking up one foot and putting it down, picking up the other foot and putting it down. Then it tells me I need some specific orthotic. Okie dokie. It's less expensive than the orthotics I got years ago from the podiatrist. Plantar Faciitis. It felt different 15 years ago, but ok, anything to take the pressure off my heels. I take my happy purchase home and OH MY FRIGGIN LORD. THEY ARE WIDER THAN ANY FRIGGIN PAIR OF SHOES I OWN. So I cram them in a pair, and MY HEELS ARE NOW ABOVE THE TOP EDGE OF THE SHOES. Seriously? I cannot wear them in ANY of my work shoes. Ok, so this may be my fault - I like little ballet like girly girl shoes - I cannot wear chunky shoes, or doc martens, or anything that resembles and army boot or something my grandmother would have worn in 1898. I like girly girl shoes. Like "Dorothy" shoes - pumps with pretty bows on them, pretty colored shoes, pointy toes, etc. I also have a narrow foot. These friggin things are wider than my feet and cannot be cut down. ARRRRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHHH. Can't they make orthotics that actually fit real women's shoes? My feet are not SQUARE. The orthotics are. MeezerMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00002913344233812489noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2136346301976733426.post-14568036349934035542011-05-30T17:04:00.000-04:002011-05-30T17:04:41.730-04:00Memorial DaySome days I have profound thoughts about stuff. Today is Memorial Day. It's a time to remember those men and women who have given their lives in conflict to make our country "free" and "safe". The ultimate sacrifice. On days like today I think about those men and women. When I was a child our country was involved in the Vietnam War. I can remember being about 7 years old in the late 60's and watching the nightly news, and pictures of the war. Pictures of the soldiers. They looked like the kids on my street that were in high school. They must have been young. How young were they? In Vietnam the average age was 19. Children. With their whole lives ahead of them. Witnessing horrible things that man does to fellow man. Injured. Dying. It hurts my heart to think of these children dying, possibly thinking about their moms and dads, brothers and sisters, possibly wives, children, friends. They would never know the joys of getting married or having children. Sitting at a back yard BBQ on Memorial Day. They died so that our country would be safe. They died for our rights. You know, the rights we exercise today - the right to speak hatefully and disrespectfully to each other. The right to be intolerant of each other. The right to get yourself so worked up about your political or religious beliefs that you totally tune out anyone with a differing opinion. Somehow I don't think that the Founding Fathers had that in mind when writing the First Amendment. The thing I love most about this country is that we have the right to change things. If we don't like who is in office, we can vote them out. Then, when we start to hate the people we voted in, we can vote them out. We DO have the right to be nasty and disrespectful to each other. I don't like it, I prefer informed debate, and maybe someday people will be willing to listen to each other again. But it IS our right. And no matter that I hate the level of intolerance in this country right now,<br />
<br />
" I will gladly STAND UP next to you and defend it"<br />
There ain't no doubt I love this land<br />
God Bless the USAMeezerMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00002913344233812489noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2136346301976733426.post-23506525884114654102011-05-23T14:26:00.000-04:002011-05-23T14:26:34.123-04:00I'm not falling for thatDear People in my Office<br />
<br />
When I send a note explaining that I will not be at your 2pm meeting because I am home SICK, and my throat is sore and I have a nasty cold, please do not call me from the phone in the conference room just to embarrass me as I quack out "HELLO" and then completely lose my voice. I'm not falling for it. I see you online and I know you can just IM me with any issues. I'll be in the office tomorrow and feeling more like putting up with your idiotic embarrassment and making fun of my honking and quacking.MeezerMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00002913344233812489noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2136346301976733426.post-26617812847383872432011-05-05T20:35:00.000-04:002011-05-05T20:35:55.967-04:00The New MathScene: The supermarket deli counter. <br />
<br />
Finally it's my turn. I say to the deli counter assistant person very clearly "I would like one pound of chicken salad please" She repeated "one pound of chicken salad" <br />
<br />
She proceeds to grab a container and start CRAMMING chicken salad into it until it's really really FULL. In my mind I KNOW it's more than one pound. Onto the scale it goes. Total weight: 2.73 pounds. <br />
<br />
Deli Counter assistant says to me "is it ok if it's a <b>little</b> over a pound?" <br />
<br />
When I say "no I want one pound please" she gives ME a dirty look! Then proceeds to almost empty the container. Total weight this time 0.47 pounds. She looks at me. I again say "One pound please" More gets spooned in - total weight now - 1.89. Now I'm just on a roll. "One pound please". At this point she grabs another container - a smaller one - you know, the one that on the display says ONE POUND and fills that. Total weight? 1.03 pounds. Yet another validation of my theory that when people leave their homes and end up in a grocery store they somehow become mentally challenged.MeezerMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00002913344233812489noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2136346301976733426.post-83541784679835027022011-04-21T08:37:00.000-04:002011-04-21T08:37:32.153-04:00Random Thoughts of the dayI think I need a bigger bed - the cats are taking over my queen size bed and now I have less than the space of a twin bed for myself. I think they like my sleep number bed more than I do<br />
<br />
snow last week, windy and only in the 30's and 40's this week, could be 80 sometime next week, then SNOW right after that. Is it any wonder I get migraines?<br />
<br />
hey, nasty dude across the street - if I EVER see you slap your 7 year old grandson in the face again you will have the cops on your ass so fast you won't know what hit you. You are VERY lucky you were getting in the car to take him back to his momma and not getting out of the car.<br />
<br />
My next door neighbor has the CUTEST 4 month old ever in the history of babies and I just want to squish his little cheeks!!!<br />
<br />
why did i wake up with the "99 bottles of beer on the wall" song stuck in my brain?<br />
<br />
I really think that my neighborhood is "Peyton Place". I don't talk to many of my neighbors because they're all NUTS. But I enjoy the show on a daily basis. Mostly. Except nasty dude across the street. He's got to GO. <br />
<br />
I think that everyone at work now hates me because I am a Flyers fan and I work in Buffalo, and they are now tied 2-2 in their Stanley Cup playoff series. Or maybe it's because I've worn orange and black every day this week and have a Flyers screen saver on my laptop. No, I'm not passive-aggressive at all!<br />
<br />
Every time I go to the donut place to get an iced coffee in the morning I feel like Sally Albright from "When Harry Met Sally" -- I'll have a large dark roast iced coffee with extra cream and a turbo shot, and 2 splenda packets on the side". Yeah, I know 5:30 in the morning is a little early to deal with someone like me. Sorry. On the side is a big thing with me. <br />
<br />
The sheep up the street are naked again.MeezerMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00002913344233812489noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2136346301976733426.post-85093914880464574362011-04-05T13:35:00.000-04:002011-04-05T13:35:22.130-04:00Was it really wrong of me.........It's a little early in the season for skateboarding, especially on our potholed road. But I could not help laughing when our resident "skater dude" planted the front of his skateboard into the 9 inch deep pothole and did a flip over the speed bump. It made me feel better about driving over it 4 days in a row and yelling "CRAP" each time.MeezerMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00002913344233812489noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2136346301976733426.post-84082315333706592612011-04-04T15:03:00.001-04:002011-04-04T15:05:09.996-04:00Life in the crazy laneDear Neighbors<br />
<br />
Yes, I finally took down my christmas lights Sunday! Until last week they were freaking FROZEN in the gutter. So now you can all stop calling me the Redneck Woman. But be forewarned, I just may plant plastic flowers in my yard just to piss you all off. I have a few "observations" for all of you<br />
<br />
MrPlayboyNeighborWhoLivesBehindMe - you are NOT fooling anyone when you drive your car around the corner to spend the night with your old high school sweetheart. You could literally walk out your back door, go 100 steps and be at her house. You are not fooling her parents who live on the other side of her duplex either. Oh, and you are not fooling her when you have other lady friends over to your house. Close the blinds dude!<br />
<br />
MsAgingRockGroupie - Aren't you a little old to have your boyfriend and his "garage band" over every weekend to practice in your garage? Seriously, you both are in your 50's.<br />
<br />
MrsMotherOf43ChildrenAcrossTheStreet - You presume to tell me you now have room for 4 dogs in that house with all of those kids? Really? I'm thinking that you have had them tunnel through the basement wall and have built an underground bunker over there to keep them all. <br />
<br />
MrPsychoCorvetteOwner/DrugDealer - yes YOU. We ALL know that you are dealing drugs. You cannot fool us with that little piece of paper you taped over your peep window in your front door. The constant stream of visitors you have that only stay for 2 minutes is kind of a give away. I look forward to the SWAT team showing up at your door some morning at 4am. Oh, and your Corvette is still a piece of crap.<br />
<br />
WrestlemainaDudes - you all are in your late 20's - when will you realize that "professional" wrestling is FAKE??? Oh, and you the 28 year old- please please please do not ever go back to the orange and yellow dyed dreadlock look - you looked like Rasta McDonald. <br />
<br />
<br />
Dear Neighbors in our Village - it's SPRING. The farmers are out tending to their fields. Spreading manure around is common. It helps the crops grow. And it does smell. Deal with it. Do NOT send a petition around demanding that the farmers not spread manure in their fields that your house happens to be built next to. Would your alternative in any way involve toilet training of farm animals? Because I would pay a LOT of money to watch you do that.MeezerMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00002913344233812489noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2136346301976733426.post-87590708668745025412011-03-04T19:36:00.001-05:002011-03-04T20:31:13.423-05:00just friggin AWESOMEok, so I FINALLY got my <a href="http://www.urbandecay.com/categories/NakedPalettewithBrush.cfm">Urban Decay Naked Palette eye shadow</a>, the original one with the brown and black eye liner pencil. I'm in hussy painted lady heaven!!! Such wonderful colors to go with my brown eyes! I'm one hot chick!!!<br />
<br />
Yesterday I go to put on my mascara and something is VERY VERY WRONG. My frigging eyelashes are just about gone! Someone came in and cut them in half while I was sleeping. HOLY FREAKING CRAP!! I have short stubby eyelashes. WHAT THE F***????? I have used the same Maybelline Great Lash mascara for about 30 years!!! Could it be that? I'm FREAKING OUT! I had long eyelashes one day and short stubby ones the next. Could it have been the eye liner pencil? or the eyeshadow primer? Maybe that is it. God only know how long it will take to grow my eyelashes again. I can't do the false eyelashes because I have a very very weird aversion to putting things near my eyes. It took me YEARS to not flip out putting on eyeliner and mascara. My eye doctor hates me because he cannot get eye drops in my eyes - he ends up with the lovely yellow contrast dye all over him. So this whole thing is extra freaky for me. <br />
<br />
My eyeballs feel friggin NAKED.MeezerMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00002913344233812489noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2136346301976733426.post-12319644868169739682011-02-01T20:47:00.001-05:002011-02-01T20:49:12.182-05:00It's only snow peopleDear People of Rochester, NY<br />
<br />
Come on. We live in ROCHESTER. It's FEBRUARY. Sometimes it SNOWS. Really. I'm not lying. Sometimes it even snows ALOT. (and for those of you outside of Rochester, we ALWAYS get more snow than Buffalo every winter). However, it's doesn't snow for like 12 days on end with no let up. And it generally does not pile up to 17 feet in a day. And usually the power does not go out for a month and a half. <br />
<br />
So, dear people of Rochester, what the hell is with the "OH MY GOD! I NEED 27 LOAVES OF BREAD AND 18 GALLONS OF MILK TO GET THROUGH THE NEXT 7 HOURS" attitude?<br />
<br />
How the hell many sandwiches do you all plan on eating in a day? And how much milk do you normally drink? Or are all of you making 55 gallon drums of bread pudding?<br />
<br />
Let's all RELAX and enjoy the snow! YES it IS possible to enjoy the beauty of the snow. <br />
<br />
However, if you ARE making 55 gallons of bread pudding, I like mine without raisins.MeezerMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00002913344233812489noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2136346301976733426.post-39532615328430687132011-01-19T11:46:00.000-05:002011-01-19T11:46:56.034-05:00You would think that by now people could deal with itThe snow. Really. Scene on the highway: one small car slid off the road. Wrecker (tow truck, whatever) down at the bottom of the hill in the median. Another wrecker pulling the first one back up the hill. Little car managed to free itself from the snow. I really hope that the driver of the little car was not charged for this fiasco.MeezerMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00002913344233812489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2136346301976733426.post-60572779238603113622011-01-06T10:52:00.000-05:002011-01-06T10:52:04.946-05:00Random thoughts for 2011Isn't it time for flying cars? - really., weren't we baby boomers (and I was born in the last year or so of that generation in the early 60's) promised flying cars? I want mine. Not because I love flying. I HATE flying. But the prospect of taking my flying car and buzzing it over my drunk ass neighbors is just too tempting. <div><br />
</div><div>Why can't I get the Lucky Charms song out of my head? Oh, it's because they're magically delicious. That's right</div><div><div><div><br />
</div></div></div><div>My drunk ass neighbor's drunk ass 27 year old kid has cut and dyed his hair so that he now looks like Ronald McDonald. Why? Because he wants to be a pro wrestler. Like Hulk Hogan. Really. Oh. My. Freaking. God. And he wonders why he got fired from his job. </div><div><br />
</div><div>I cannot buy a shirt or sweater and NOT get a food stain on it the first time I wear it. I think I have an eating disorder. </div><div><br />
</div><div>I think I need some new shoes. I have about 50 pair of shoes. I actually wear 90% of them. Most of them I have had 10 or more years. The other 10% fit nicely exactly once, when I tried them on in the store. </div><div><br />
</div><div>I don't know what I'm going to do when my favorite thermal pajamas finally wear out. Victoria's Secret doesn't make them anymore and I've had them over 10 years. </div><div><br />
</div><div>My grocery store sells "scented" spa socks. Aromatherapy socks? that don't already smell like feet? Interestingly, my cats are afraid of my feet when I wear them. It's pretty hysterical.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Am I the only one who looks at teenagers with pierced faces and ear lobes with dinner plate sized holes that hang down to their shoulders and wonder how in the hell they're going to get a job and support themselves? I'm all for self expression, but having been a manager who hired people for a living for many years, looks are a very important impression. </div><div><br />
</div><div>It's winter and I'm in my annual "mashed potato" gorge fest. It's the only food that tastes good to me right now. What it's not good for? My blood sugar levels - diabetics should not exist on mashed potatoes alone. </div><div><br />
</div><div>Is it a bad thing when sometimes the only way I remember what day it is when my alarm clock so rudely interrupts me is by trying to remember what I watched on TV the night before? </div><div><br />
</div><div>Glurp. (really, that's one of my first thoughts when I wake up in the morning). </div>MeezerMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00002913344233812489noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2136346301976733426.post-75811915062585979292010-12-17T10:25:00.001-05:002010-12-17T10:35:22.731-05:00My Christmas ChecklistToday is December 17, 8 days until Christmas. Let's see how I am doing on my checklist<br />
<br />
1. Wait until the last minute to start shopping for presents - crap, I bought some stuff online already. Although I plan on hitting the stores on the 23rd. <br />
<br />
2. Wait until the last minute to figure out what's for dinner. - ah crap, already thought about having ham, because I have an entire freaking pig in my freezer (yes, seriously. I bought a whole pig). There's still time to change my mind though.<br />
<br />
3. Put the tree up sometime before new year. DONE. <br />
<br />
4. Decorate the tree sometime before Valentine's Day - pending. I am on schedule.<br />
<br />
5. Don't send out christmas cards - DONE. I could care less about the christmas epistles from my family that I will get if I do send them out. If I don't send them cards for enough years in a row they stop sending them to me. <br />
<br />
6. Track down the elusive version of "We Need A Little Christmas" that I heard on the radio a couple of years ago and don't know who sang it, and then download it onto my mp3 player. - Well, I bought the freaking GLEE christmas CD and they have quite a perky version of it on there. Not the same but it's annoying just the same. I wonder if Walmart music has the version I want for 67 cents. <br />
<br />
7. Make those delicious sea salt carmels - DONE. <br />
<br />
8. Make another batch of those delicious sea salt carmels to give to family and friends - working on it. <br />
<br />
9. Don't eat the 2nd batch of those delicious sea salt carmels - I cannot make any promises. However, if I do I will need at least 10 more insulin shots. <br />
<br />
10. Make my world famous egg nog - with vanilla vodka and bailey's. - Changing it around a little this year - vanilla AND carmel vodka with a hint of Hazlenut liquor. 3 dozen eggs are waiting in the fridge to be frothed up into this lovely concoction.MeezerMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00002913344233812489noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2136346301976733426.post-31766506979516029162010-11-11T07:38:00.002-05:002010-11-11T07:38:17.869-05:00Thank you<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhib0XTiKavKNJ1XdMnMWSW64fIvH0-uM9b9QGezO-k5VCEIlHypET_5c5gT1G-eY8hT_kSdlGjs9a-2tERt7KLS8_Fx1z-NiGRffMaMe2Uww9i-4_nQKXNxY96jo_teEhm5JfDeivfRyA/s1600-h/poppies.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131218943265730866" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhib0XTiKavKNJ1XdMnMWSW64fIvH0-uM9b9QGezO-k5VCEIlHypET_5c5gT1G-eY8hT_kSdlGjs9a-2tERt7KLS8_Fx1z-NiGRffMaMe2Uww9i-4_nQKXNxY96jo_teEhm5JfDeivfRyA/s400/poppies.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;" /></a></div><div><div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 21px;">In 1918, on the eleventh hour in the eleventh day in the eleventh month, the world rejoiced and celebrated. After four years of bitter war, an armistice was signed and "the war to end all wars" was over.</span></div></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 21px;"></span></div></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 21px;"></span></div></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 14px;">The Original Poem handwritten by the author</span></div><div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLd9HHThivjhuavQbJRLA1F-kiQG4Jm7TikPDPdgYWW1L9pVUqA-tStumzxUJT7r0uJViQb4QtZYCylY0PwZElVp0ZR7XhCWqoe8xjQoxxuZX35_DMygjxUjQaZNNOxUIzSq4xyidt298/s1600-h/handwritten.gif"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131215649025814786" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLd9HHThivjhuavQbJRLA1F-kiQG4Jm7TikPDPdgYWW1L9pVUqA-tStumzxUJT7r0uJViQb4QtZYCylY0PwZElVp0ZR7XhCWqoe8xjQoxxuZX35_DMygjxUjQaZNNOxUIzSq4xyidt298/s320/handwritten.gif" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;" /></a><span style="font-family: arial;">This is a picture taken during the battle in Flanders during WWI</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1tdNew-5IBerna0S3kfBELVt7V2yVqfMkEMYu67W4tGkKTlF9uJrrKOkcRxlMYG78HB2RP1nAYhw9nLMzUeObPn4CJdskH9e-nKJrrP2eMq-qsdgJA6xYXVkv0plSf9mZPiw5krEJVBE/s1600-h/inflandersfields.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131212453570146546" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1tdNew-5IBerna0S3kfBELVt7V2yVqfMkEMYu67W4tGkKTlF9uJrrKOkcRxlMYG78HB2RP1nAYhw9nLMzUeObPn4CJdskH9e-nKJrrP2eMq-qsdgJA6xYXVkv0plSf9mZPiw5krEJVBE/s320/inflandersfields.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;" /></a></div></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 21px;">November 11, 1919: President Woodrow Wilson proclaims the first Armistice Day, proclaiming: "To us in America, the reflections of armistice Day will be filled with solemn pride in the heroism of those who died in the country’s service and with gratitude for the victory, both because of the thing from which it has freed us and because of the opportunity it has given America to show her sympathy with peace and justice in the councils of the nations…" The original concept for the celebration was for the suspension of business for a two minute period beginning at 11 A.M., with the day also marked by parades and public meetings.</span></div></div></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131217525926523170" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqlWu8oRXav_xcPdKu5srpcSeFz6auKj_BhlbUbeGJiTst9FGS4idbNhBfqJqrJSxZwEoUonb5jYDuK98Ju-UzKf7Y-N58zVzGpan8e2RHM57FOq89B65vrTgjRH70U0rVvFpfi5oafq8/s400/Image2a.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;" /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 21px;">To all veterans, especially the WWII Veterans like my father, who is 85 and now in a nursing home. They were "The Greatest Generation"</span></div></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 21px;">THANK YOU for keeping our country free.</span></div></div></div>MeezerMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00002913344233812489noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2136346301976733426.post-76925071104927753922010-11-10T10:37:00.000-05:002010-11-10T10:37:55.455-05:00Flashback WednesdayFlashback #1: "there's something in the fog!!!!!!!!!" <div><br />
</div><div>Sheesh was it foggy this morning! I felt just like Adreinne Barbeau freaking out because I could not see a damn thing driving into work. The fog lasted for about 60 of the 86 miles to work. I fully expected some ghost pirates to jump out at me. Only to discover that when I hit them it would be a deer instead. Fortunately, that didn't happen. </div><div><br />
</div><div>Flashback #2 - "does anyone know where the love of God goes when the waves turn the minutes to hours..." </div><div>35 years ago the Edmund Fitzgerald sank in Lake Superior during a storm that most consider worse than any atlantic hurricane. God rest the souls of the 29 crewmen aboard. </div><div><br />
</div><div>Flashback #3 - "I want my maypo" - </div><div><br />
</div><div>mainly because I love it. And i wanted it for breakfast. The jelly beans were a good alternative though. (yeah yeah yeah, diabetic, blah blah blah. I needed sugar) </div>MeezerMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00002913344233812489noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2136346301976733426.post-91233915311461678072010-11-02T10:16:00.000-04:002010-11-02T10:16:46.746-04:00The weird stuff always happens to meNote to self: the next time ycou get a brilliant idea to carve pumpkins and hang them from a tree, DON'T!!<br />
<br />
Although it looked VERY COOL, and the neighbors and kids loved it, the pumpkins WILL NOT appreciate being strung up and will attack you when you and your neighbors cut them down.<br />
<br />
So, as I'm picking up a pumpkin from the ground near the tree, one of my neighbors is standing on the ICY ROCKS around the tree cutting down one of the pumpkins. Flash to feet slipping on rocks and pumpkin hurtling to the ground. Except that I am in between said pumpkin and the ground. As the pumpkin is hurtling towards sure death and dismemberment, it decides to get it's final revenge on me by stabbing me in the back of the hand with it's sharp stem. Immediately my hand went numb and I could not feel anything or move it. Blood gushes everywhere and I run inside to get a towel to stop it and throw a bag of frozen peas on it to keep the swelling down. Oh, and thank you dear insane neighbors for your fits of laughter, I appreciate it. Thankfully the x-rays showed no fracture. The numbness went away in about 3 hours, the bruise is massive and my fingers look like sausages. <br />
<br />
I swear when I went back outside in the darkness to finish cleaning up, I heard the laughter of demented pumpkins. <br />
<br />
Well played pumpkin, well played.MeezerMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00002913344233812489noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2136346301976733426.post-90352378836744632252010-10-12T10:27:00.000-04:002010-10-12T10:27:47.706-04:00It's FALL!!!<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;">Reasons I love fall!</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;">Farmer's Markets</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;">Cider</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;">Squash!!</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;">Leaves</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;">Haunted Hay Rides</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;">Decorating for Halloween</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;">Thanksgiving! </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;">Pumpkins</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;">It's not frigging 80 f'ing degrees anymore</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;">oh, it could SNOW here before halloween</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;">Halloween</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;">my drunk ass neighbors trick or treating for beer</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span></span></div>MeezerMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00002913344233812489noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2136346301976733426.post-77932562643901201342010-09-21T20:39:00.000-04:002010-09-21T20:39:58.034-04:00is 1 less than 30?Dear poorly paid online support rep for my wireless carrier:<br />
<br />
If I tell you that I got my spiffy (yet hopelessly BROKEN) phone TODAY, what did you expect my answer would be when you said "have you had it less than 30 days?". Don't leave the door open like that. And when I reply "well, since I got it TODAY, I would assume that 1 day is less than 30 days, correct?", don't get snotty with me - I'm the customer, I get to be snotty, not you. And then when I tell you 7 TIMES that the keypad on the phone is totally non functional, don't ask me again what the problem is. And THEN, don't piss me off with your snottiness yet again, give me a phone number to call and then expect a good review on your survery. I believe that the term "useless waste of an online rep who I'm sure really doesn't speak English at all" was tossed in there. <br />
<br />
<br />
Dear Non-English speaking poorly paid phone rep for my wireless carrier: Listen lady, When I tell you my secret answer, and i KNOW it's right because I'm looking at it on my account page online, DON'T TELL ME IT'S WRONG. Learn to speak English and then get back to me. <br />
<br />
Dear English speaking, poorly paid phone rep for my wireless carrier: yeah, you probably got the notes about my last call with Miss Non-English speaker, and Mr I don't know that 1 is less than 30: Thank you for actually getting my return processed and my new phone out to me. If I could I would give you a raise. You have restored my faith in your company. Oh, and thanks for the refund for the entire cost of the phone. You ROCK. MeezerMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00002913344233812489noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2136346301976733426.post-33266984066469807582010-09-11T00:01:00.000-04:002010-09-11T10:02:28.557-04:00The 2,996 - I Remember Marlyn delCarmen Garcia<a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4582/2049/1600/2996-16.0.jpg"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 130%;"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4582/2049/320/2996-16.0.jpg" style="float: left; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px;" /></span></a><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 130%;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 130%;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 130%;">This is a repost of my 9/11/2006 post, with some new comments and thoughts.<br />
<object height="385" width="480"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/fvj6zdWLUuk?fs=1&hl=en_US"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/fvj6zdWLUuk?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="400" height="385"></embed></object><br />
<b><br />
</b> </span><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 130%;"><br />
I did not personally know anyone in the Towers, on the planes or in the Pentagon that lost their lives that day. However, I signed up to be part of the </span><a href="http://project2996.wordpress.com/2009-signup/"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 130%;">2,996 bloggers </span></a><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 130%;">to remember an individual who was lost on September 11, 2001. This is a rememberance of one of the lights that was snuffed out that day.<br />
<br />
There are not enough words for me to begin to honor or remember. I hope that I can do a little justice to Marlyn's short life.</span><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4582/2049/1600/garcia.marlyn1.3.jpg"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 130%;"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4582/2049/320/garcia.marlyn1.3.jpg" style="float: left; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px;" /></span></a><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 130%;"><br />
<br />
Marlyn C Garcia<br />
Age: 21<br />
Location: World Trade Center, Tower 1, 100th floor, Marsh and McLennan Cos, Inc<br />
<br />
Miss Garcia was the valedictorian of her high school class at Bay Ridge Christian Academy. She was described as mature beyond her years. Smart. Sweet. Prom Queen. A young woman with character. Always smiling. Always nice to everyone. She turned down a scholarship to Syracuse University to remain close to her family, going instead to John Jay College, where, again, she touched so many lives with her kindness and smile. She was attending college as she worked at Marsh and McLennan. She would arrive an hour early each day so that she could leave to attend school in the afternoons. She wanted to work for the United Nations, travel, advocate for those who could not speak for themselves, to spread her light to others.<br />
She had an entire lifetime ahead of her.<br />
She had potential.<br />
She was small. She was fearless. She was determined.<br />
She loved her family. Her parents, her 2 sisters, her Uncle, to whom she wrote on Monday night, Sept 10 " I hope I get to see you Tuesday, I am going into work a little late because I want to vote" September 11 was New York City Mayoral Primary day.<br />
She was a person that any young woman should look up to as an example of a caring and loving person. Someone to stive to be like. A loving Daughter, Sister, Neice, Cousin, Friend. A shining light. </span><a href="http://www.legacy.com/GB/GuestbookView.aspx?PersonId=104859"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 130%;">In every rememberance of Marlyn that I have read</span></a><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 130%;">, everyone has described her as being one thing - an Angel. She was an Angel on earth to so many. She was, sadly, in Tower 1 when the plane hit. One of the 2,996 called Home that day. Called Home to be an Angel looking down on everyone she knew and cared about. To now spread her light from above.<br />
</span><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4582/2049/1600/WorldTradeCenterNight1.jpg"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 130%;"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4582/2049/320/WorldTradeCenterNight1.jpg" style="float: left; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px;" /></span></a><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 130%;"><br />
<br />
9/11/2006 I cannot believe that it has been five years. The emotions and feelings I have are still as raw as they were that day. In my cedar chest in my bedroom, I have copies of the New York Daily News, dated September 12, 2001, and showing all of the horror in still photographs. I looked at them on the day I purchased them. I have not looked at them since. I cannot ever forget those pictures. They are burned in my memory. I keep the papers to remember. I don't know why. I can't forget. I will never forget. None of us should never forget, so that will not happen again. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 130%;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 130%;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 130%;">9/11/2009 When I wrote these words 3 years ago I could not believe the pain could still be so fresh in my heart. A couple of weeks ago, I went into my cedar chest and I looked at those papers dated 9/12/2001. I cried, gut wrenching, all out sobbing crying. And I thought about Marlyn. And I prayed that the terror for her was short. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 130%;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 130%;">9/11/2010 It's now been 9 years since that horrific day. It seems a life time ago and yesterday, all at the same time. Life changed forever that day. Or did it? It seems that the more years pass, the less our collective conscious remembers - that it was hatred that took over that day. Hatred that is rearing its ugly head again - right here in our country. Among our own citizens. Intolerance. Hate. The attitude of I'm right and you're wrong and we cannot have dialog anymore. We are living in times that seem to be even more dangerous than they were 9 years ago. For the first time in my life, I'm scared for the future. It's only been 9 years and it seems we have not learned a damn thing. Did all of those people, did Marlyn, die in vain? God, I pray not. We need to dig deep inside and remember what we felt that awful day. We need to remember how, when we reached out our hands that day, there was someone there to hold them. Someone there to cry with, to grieve with. To heal with. We need to remember. We need to remember the innocence that was lost that day. We need to remember Marlyn and the 2995 others that were ripped away from us. We cannot let their lives be lost in vain and hatred. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 130%;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 130%;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 130%;">On the night of 9/11/2001, we had a candelight walk in our neighborhood, led by the children. Then we all put our candles out on our porch to burn down during the night. When I light a candle tonight, as I did that night, and as I do every September 11, I will light it in Marlyn's memory. </span><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4582/2049/1600/101958_t_White%20Rose%20Bud.jpg"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 130%;"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4582/2049/200/101958_t_White%20Rose%20Bud.jpg" style="float: right; margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px;" /></span></a><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 130%;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 130%;">Marlyn Garcia I will never forget you.</span>MeezerMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00002913344233812489noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2136346301976733426.post-80214318045318045172010-09-02T09:21:00.000-04:002010-09-02T09:21:46.380-04:00Support your local Farmers<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<a href="http://blog.farmland.org/friends-of-farmland"><img alt="Local Food and Local Farms" border="0" height="105" src="http://www.farmland.org/images/NoFarmsNoFood/BlogButtons/No-Farms-No-Food-Apple.jpg" width="125" /></a><br />
<a href="http://blog.farmland.org/friends-of-farmland"></a> Congrats to the <a href="http://www.cityofrochester.gov/publicmarket/">Rochester Public Market,</a> winner by a landslide in the Favorite Large Farmers Market in America contest. The Rochester Public Market ROCKS. Last weekend I spent $30 and came home with:<br />
<br />
5lbs potatoes<br />
1 large bunch baby asparagus<br />
1 lb carrots<br />
2 bunches celery<br />
2 heads red romaine<br />
2 heads red leaf lettuce<br />
2 heads boston lettuce<br />
1 large bunch beets<br />
1 quart basket of chanterelle mushrooms (at $3 the splurge of the day)<br />
4 cucumbers<br />
1/2 bushel honey crisp apples<br />
2 eggplant<br />
4 zucchini<br />
2 bunches bananas<br />
10 oranges<br />
2 bunches swiss chard<br />
2 loaves whole wheat bread, hot from the bakery<br />
<br />
In an effort to assist city residents with nutritional and financial challenges, the market is now accepting Food Stamp EBT cards - which has increased the foot traffic through the market (40,000 visitors on any given Saturday, 2.4 million visitors in 2009) and hopefully will give some of the young city residents a taste of locally grown delicious fruits and vegetables, as well as organic meats, and locally baked bread (really, where else can you go to get a loaf of freshly baked, hot, whole wheat bread, already sliced, for $1), and perhaps inspire them to learn to cook their own healthy meals and not become one of the projected 88% of obese Americans in the next 20 years.<br />
<br />
There are so many people out there who think that you can only get fruits and vegetables at the grocery store. I have nothing against Walmart, I shop there for grocery staples all the time, but have you ever REALLY looked at the quality of their produce? Here in Western NY, in the middle of one of the largest apple producing areas in the world, Walmart ships apples to our stores from Washington State. Now, I have nothing against the apple farmers there, but, seriously? What the hell? Oh, and they're 5x more expensive than the apples I get at any farmers market in my area. <br />
<div></div><br />
But, the best thing about the Rochester Public Market? Trying really hard not to laugh when someone who speaks Chinese/Spanish/English is trying to communicate with someone who speaks Redneck. (if you don't think that rednecks can live north of the Mason Dixon line, I DARE you to come here)MeezerMomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00002913344233812489noreply@blogger.com7