Just Another Day

Due to a computer that wants to make life extremely complicated for her, Gina will be out until goodness knows when she can find someone to fix it. --Posted by The Fairy Blogmother

So one day back in the early 90's, I was sitting at my job. Which was watching the park. You know those kids who check out balls and conduct the art projects? Well, that was me. And I was actually a slacker one at that. I think I was sitting at the desk, making a poster to announce the upcoming cheerleading classes. Suddenly, a man burst into the office, shouting that a child had fallen off the rocket. Now the rocket was one of those really old, unsafe play structures from like, the 60's that was too high and had waaaay to many openings for a kid to fall through if they weren't being careful. I'd say the top platform was a good 25-30 feet from the ground, with a slide on the second level. Turns out the child had fallen from the top of the slide. A chill going through my heart, I ran as fast as I could to the playground where there was a little boy splayed motionless in the sand. There was already a group around him, including his parents, who were sobbing and i

Welcome to the I-warned-you-it-was-coming edition of Pointless Points Trivia. Where the points don't matter! Just like me trying to convince myself that chocolate covered bananas are healthy, they just don't matter! As you can tell, I am in a sugary mood today, so here goes the question: Which candy confections originated in Germany in 1922 and were only imports to the US until 1982, when the company's first American factory opened in Baltimore, Maryland?

So I was tagged a while ago by current leaderboard leader Hope for this meme. It took me a bit, but here are: Five Things In my car: -Windbreakers for all three of us, you never know. -Crumbs and more crumbs in the backseat, I made the mistake of handing Mr. Personality some Strawberry Newtons the other day. -Bottles of water. -About 100 CD's- we have a 6 disc changer. -A tin of lip balm that has melted and re-formed probably a dozen times. In my purse: -A rather dessicated largeish bag of M&M's (chocolate) that a restaurant gave Mr. Personality as part of his dessert, and I just don't have the heart to throw it away, because the thought we might get stranded somewhere and need them to keep us alive is always hovering in the back of my mind. I know I will be tempting fate if I take them out. -The outside pocket that is supposed to hold a cell instead holds several small Happy Meal toys, including the Black Power Ranger. -A tube of some of the crappiest mascara I have

So I have yet another deep, dark, secret to share. I have a crush on Taylor Hicks. Why? I have no idea. Some times I get the weirdest little crushes on men for no discernible reason. There are always the acknowledged hotties, and then there are guys like Taylor who fall into the "Hmmmmm" category. I just like to think of myself as an equal opportunity crusher. All I know is that I was half-heartedly watching the beginnings of the Idol season, and the only preliminary round episodes I watched seemed to be women. I never saw any of the men until the twelve finalists. And then I saw Taylor. And I started to smile. His joy of performance is genuine, and is infectious. Say what you will about crazy dance moves, he is being taken by the music. I know because I have been known to do the same thing, and God knows if it looks good or not, but it sure is fun. And he really has a great smile. Odd for me to like a Southern boy, but there it is. So, I will also confess to voting

So despite only being able to copy existing illustrations, I have always loved art. Oh, and I can also draw a horse, which unfortunately looks exactly the same as when my friends requested I draw them one in 8th grade. Not a whit of difference, I'm sad to say. One of my favorite classes in both high school and college was Art History/Appreciation. I loved looking at the paintings in particular, with Impressionists probably being my favorite, especially Van Gogh. But I adore Rubens, Rembrandt, Van Eyck, and Degas as well. I also love going to museums and soaking up the paintings, which always look so very different than in the books or on the web. To see the brushstrokes and blobs of paint makes me remember that someone actually painted the thing, rather than just thinking of it in photographic terms. Not in my wildest dreams could I paint an oil painting without some kind of outline or color by numbers kit. Yes, I know that oils are forgiving since they don't dry quickl

So, whoa, hold on here. I write what I thought was a rather innocent post about a rude man at a theme park, and all of a sudden I am being labeled passive-aggressive, about to keel over and die from my frustration and the high blood pressure it causes. After reading a few of the comments from persons who will remain unnamed (but who happen to live in Texas and own a new black refigerator, along with a certain someone on the East Coast with extremely thin legs) I thought for a second that I should commit myself to some serious psychiatric care. Why, I could explode at any second, causing serious harm to myself and the furniture! Then I thought, well what actually is passive-aggressiveness? Before yesterday, I would have considered myself one of the last people on the planet anyone would ascribe with that particular malady. That august body, the NIH says that passive aggressiveness is: Passive-aggressive personality disorder is a chronic condition in which a person seems to passive

So even though I fully realize that life is not fair, does it necessarily follow that I have to like it? Is it futile for me to beat my fists against my kitchen walls in fits of despair because someone else acted in their own best interests, thus putting me at a disadvantage? Well, it is most certainly futile since the event probably already occured and the fist-beating is merely delayed reaction. Perhaps I am over-exaggertaing beating the walls up, but hey, what's a story without some flair? However, was what happened a good thing? Something or someone that should be allowed to continue their jerkish ways just because this happens to be a supposedly free country? These questions illuminate what is probably one of the biggest differences between myself and Hubba-hubba, ideologically. Or better yet, let me start from the beginning. That always tends to be helpful. While on our Legoland adventure Thursday, our little family was exploring the park. Turns out they have this very ch

Welcome to the Saturday night edition of Pointless Points Trivia , where the points don't really matter! That's right, even though Disney would try and persuade us otherwise, they are just like the season finale of Desperate Housewives, they just don't matter! Hey, I'm tryin' here! Which Greek philosopher reasoned that heavier objects would fall to the earth faster than lighter objects? As always, the first person to answer correctly gets the thousand points. And Googling isn't cheating, my friends!

So to give you news more exciting than anything that happens in my life, I would like to congratulate my fairy-blog mother Mel and her professional debut at ClubMom . Let us all try and refrain from cussing at her as we realize she is getting paid to do something we all do for free. Won't you go there and check it out as she embarks on a weight-loss journey, blogging about it as she goes? Must remind myself, congratulate, not cuss. Congratulate, not cuss.

So I come to you today a changed person, a person with more knowledge than I posessed on Tuesday. You see, I am now no longer a Legoland virgin. Yes, you heard that right. For the first time yesterday, I experienced the pleasure, and sometimes pain, that comes with a visit to Legoland in Carlsbad , which is south of us. It had been bugging me for a while. Everyone else was doing it, while I was simply standing on the sidelines, wishing I had what it took. Actually, it was the money that stopped me. Fifty bucks a person? An hour and a half away down the I-5, which is known as hell on earth? With a preschooler known to scream at the sight of a bounce house? I just couldn't bring myself to do it. I'd heard it was good, I just wasn't sure it was good enough for me. Then, fate stepped in. Through an inocuous series of events, I wound up winning two tickets to Legoland at a raffle. The only reason I even put my ticket in the little shoebox was because it happened to b

So am I the only person who thinks that the Oprah "Legends Ball" is a bit obscene? I mean, here are a bunch of extremely rich people congratulating themselves and giving themselves a bunch of extremely expensive things, like they really need Oprah to buy them nice stuff. I mean, let's talk about disproportional distribution of wealth. And then to just rub our noses in it to boot. No sour grapes here, no sirree. As for Grey's Anatomy, Hubba-hubba has predicted that Addison will be pregnant next season. You heard it here first. I have no idea why certain music, such as that featured in those Aqous (of all things!) commercials gets to me. I'm apparently a sap. And a marketer's dream. Elliot went home! I was very surprised. But, between Taylor and Katherine, I think Taylor will win. The season finale of Lost next week had better not suck. Not many shows can cause my jaw to drop to my chest as it did a couple weeks ago. Even more impressive is the fact tha

So I was getting ready to transfer dinner from cooking pots/pans into bowls for the table yesterday. I searched frantically for the bowls I usually use for this particular meal, forgetting that Hubba-hubba had broken one. I was running a little late with the dinner, and wanted to get things started, stat. So I looked at my cupboard and saw some perfectly good mixing bowls sitting there. Clean, perfectly sized. Ready for me to use. But some weird, recessive anal gene refused to allow me to use mixing bowls for the table. Instead I called Hubba-hubba over to reach some bowls that were a little high, and wound up having to clean them out since I don't use them that often. As I sat eating dinner, I wondered why the hell I couldn't have just used the mixing bowls. What was wrong with me? I am actually the type of person who, if I had my druthers, would use paper plates all the time because I hate rinsing and putting away dishes. That's exactly how lazy I am, my friends.

So welcome to the Mother's Day edition of Pointless Points Trivia , where the points don't really matter. That's right, just like my attempts to keep my newly cleaned kitchen "clean" for more than ten minutes, they just don't matter! I know you can't wait... What movie mother do Jason Patric, Corey Haim and Joaquin Phoenix have in common from the movies "Parenthood" and "The Lost Boys"? Happy Mother's Day!

So on this Mother's Day Eve, I am of course going to write about my mother. I have written before about my mother and my concern over the percieved lack of relationship between us . And even though I am certainly not best friends with my mother in the way I would like, I know for a fact that she loves me. When I entered first grade, my mother began attending school to become a registered nurse. A few years later, she would be working all kinds of crazy shifts at the hospital, and some days I would only see her for a couple of hours. In the mid-seventies, I am not sure how many women were in the workplace full time. Certainly, it was more uncommon than today. For a good period of time, I resented my mother working. It seemed that she was never there, even if in reality she was. I didn't like being a latch-key kid. But I was never, ever neglected. She still managed to attend all my functions, from award ceremonies to every volleyball game I ever played. Even the ones in

So let's just get this straight. I love my husband, and I love spending time with him. Er, just perhaps not so much time as we have been spending this last week. His inability to be active has ensured that we are practically 24/7. And it's starting to get to me. Now I feel bad for him and all that. I am so grateful that he was not severely injured. But he's getting in the way of my routine. It might be a shitty routine, but it's my shitty routine and I happen to like it. The times Mr. Personality usually eats? Off. The time I spend cleaning? Poof, not that there was all that much of it to begin with. Normal activities that I do with Mr. Personality? Not happening. My laundry schedule? Ha! What laundry schedule? But even so... I remember something similar happening to my grandparents when my grandfather retired. My grandmother had her day scheduled just so, and the appearance of my grandfather at breakfast when he was usually gone by then threw her for a c

So I was just on Heather's blog and I left a comment that I feel in retrospect is untrue for myself. You see, I pretty much always play by the rules. I have never cut in front of someone standing in line. I fill in all the required bubbles with the proper marking utensil. If a coupon is expired even by one day, I don't try to use it. I have never cheated anyone out of money, unless you count this , which I don't. I use products in the manner they were made to be used, none of those warnings on the label apply to me. No one ever threw sand at me in the sandbox for taking the shovel. If a sign says "Do Not Enter" it doesn't even cross my mind to do so. I have never parked in a handicapped parking spot, even for two seconds. Hubba-hubba was someone that when I met him, was a bit of a rebel. He was loud, egocentric, and drank a bit too much. Perhaps I am describing most twenty year old males, but I dont doubt that was probably why my goody-two-shoes self

So at times I read feminist literature. I can't say that I completely identify with everything they write, but I also can't state that I disagree with many things either. I'm a fence sitter in many ways. Call me gutless, but it seems that injury is more likely to happen while jumping off the fence than while sitting on it. I prefer to remain injury free. You can breathe a sigh of relief in the knowledge that I have no intention of talking about the so called Mommy Wars or abortion rights or anything of the sort. I am going to talk about women. Now, the idea of the "patriarchy" as an abstract, men who wish to keep women unequal and oppose the idea of them advancing in the workplace seems to be not wholly invalid to me. But feminists, to me, always seem to be pointing the finger at men. Look at the men, look at what the men are doing, the men, the men, the men. Seriously. I'd like to pose an idea that is probably not very popular. Because I am going to poin

So, poor Hubba-hubba, beat up and sore, was thumbing through the TV guide this afternoon. HH: Oh, wow, tonight on Nova it's about Hitler's Sunken Secret . Me:Hmmmm... HH: You know, I think I'd be interested in watching that. Me: Hey, what time is Nova on? HH: Eight o'clock. Me: American Idol is on at eight o'clock. HH: That sucks. Me: Yeah, for you . I'm sure you'll want to stop by my house the next time you aren't feeling well for that special brand of coddling that only Gina can provide. *Thank you all for your support on all of my various issues lately. Grandma and Hubba-hubba thank you as well.

So. Saturday was a day I would prefer to have bypassed. But, life doesn't work that way. Grandmother admitted into the hospital? Check. Hubba-hubba rear-ended by a drunk driver while in his patrol unit? Check. Are they feeling ok? Well, not particularly. Life threatening at this point? No. Gina is still hosting her pity party over here. I would invite you, except I think that would be an invitation you would be inclined to throw away. And I wouldn't blame you for a second. Heck, I'd like to call the cops to break it up this instant. Also, to add to the things-we-wish-didn't-have-to-happen happenings here in SoCal, my good friend Amy's son Isaac is undergoing surgery. Can you please send any and all good vibes you have in the direction of Los Angeles? Thanks.

So welcome to the fluffy version of Pointless Points Trivia , where the points don't matter. That's right, just like me trying to banish the lyrics of "Dorothy the Dinosaur" from my brain, they just don't matter! For the first person that answers the question, ah, you know the drill... In the human body, where is the malleus bone found? Whew! In what I believe was a record for a fast response, Sue got it right! As an addendum, I am all about you and your convenience my friends. So if you haven't noticed, it is possible to make comments on both the Blogger system and Haloscan as well. This might make it a bit tricky on these questions if someone hasn't checked the "other" system before commenting. Rest assured it will be based on time posted, regardless of which one is used.

So this week has been. Rough. I promised no heaviness, but I lied. I didn't know I was lying, but it turns out I was. You see, my child is driving me crazy. And perhaps you can help me. I need to know if I am just being a first-time mother who has no clue about preschooler behavior, and expects things from a little guy who just can't deliver. Well, that last part has already happened. My son is afraid of everything. Oh, it started off simply. Afraid of the dark. Ha, good one kid, I've got that one covered. Lots of kids are afraid of the dark. Then we progressed to soccer class, which was taken a while back. What I neglected to say about soccer was that Mr. Personality refused to go on the field by himself. Ok, so I thought, I'll just kind of stand on the sidelines. No, it turned into he must hold onto my pant leg at all times and will not move forward unless I move forward. Basically, it turned out that I took soccer class, too. For free, since I only paid fo

So here it is, Friday night, and I am wondering why I wrote such a heavy post yesterday. No more heavy! It's the weekend, and heaviness is henceforth banned until further notice! I am stealing this from Suzanne , even though (sniff, sniff) she didn't tag me. I'll get over it. Some day. Maybe. I AM wondering why I just ate those cookies. I WANT more, but I can't have any. I WISH global warming was a complete bunch of crap. I HATE motorcyles. Is there anything good about motorcycles? I MISS the mortgage-free days. I FEAR global warming isn't a complete bunch of crap. I HEAR frogs right now. I love hearing the frogs. I WONDER when my endocrinologist is gonna get my dosage right. I REGRET the years I lost to hypothyroidism and not knowing what was wrong. I AM NOT the most humble person around. I DANCE shakin' my thang. Well, probably with too many thangs shakin'. I SING loudly and at every opportunity. I CRY at cheesy commercials when I am PMS'ing. Ev

So seeing as how I alluded to my relationship, such as it is, with Hubba-hubba's family, I thought I would give you the lowdown on some of the particulars. This is being done with Hubba-hubba's full knowledge and consent. He actually wonders why I haven't written about them sooner. They are a blogger's dream come true, full of foibles and grand airs and lots of weird things that happen to them. But I don't. It is because I dislike them. Intensely. And I have not many good things to say about them, mostly bad. I feel petty when I talk about them, like I just need to move on. For the most part I am a normal, fairly forgiving person. But on this particular topic, I am completely unable to be the bigger person. Does it eat away at me? Perhaps a bit. More on behalf of my husband and my son than for myself. Sound like a cop out? Maybe, but that's my story and I'm sticking to it. I think eveyone should have an allowance for one topic on which they are p

So tonight I am questioning my sanity. We are going to have a garage sale. But not just any garage sale, my friends. No, it was my bright idea to turn it into a community garage sale. Or not so bright, as the case may well turn out to be. I blame this all on Hubba-hubba. One day he got a bug up his ass to clean out our garage. Not for the faint of heart, let me warn you. We had many many things that were stacked up to the rafters, threatening to topple at any moment. We had many useless items that we would always look at and wonder what the hell we were going to do with that . And who gave it to us, anyway? Oh yeah, your sister. Ahhh, that one was from your mother. That's why I blame Hubba-hubba. I'm not sure if it's because they don't really like us, but Hubba-hubba's family are the supreme winners of the crappy gift game. Now don't be all telling me that it is a gift, Gina, be grateful that someone even gave you something. Look at my garage and I da

So I never thought I would think that having Mr. Personality being potty trained would be waaay more difficult than when he was in Pull-Ups. There, I bet that's the first time you've heard that one. Don't get me wrong. I think it is fantastic that he is finally potty-trained for both functions. He had been trained in number 2 far longer than number 1. It was actually his decision to do the number 2, and I am highly grateful to have so many months of poop-free diapers. Which is the opposite of the majority of children, but mine is determined to forge his own path in life. I really could have cared less about changing a few Pull-Ups a day or so, which I did for a very long time. As a consequence, I never really pushed him to be fully trained for eiher function, and it has worked out with no fuss or fighting. And very little bribing. Really. But now it seems that my son has a hankering to visit every foreign bathroom in the known universe. For whatever reason, if we a

So welcome to the homage to sky-high gas prices edition of Pointless Points Trivia , where the points don't matter. That's right, just like the fact that we have tried to install a little sail on top of our Honda to make it more efficient, they just don't matter! Now, for the one thousand points (and just to reiterate- Googling is not cheating)... Oil is transported out of the Persian Gulf along what strait?

So which is it? Out of sight-out of mind, or absence makes the heart grow fonder? Am I the only person who has to have air constantly moving? I can't stand stuffiness. Why are bathing suits so expensive? It's not like there's a lot of fabric going on, and I can hardly believe that the use of spandex constitutes charging 60 bucks for just a top piece. What is it about men carrying their kids on their shoulders that never fails to make my heart melt? Does it mean we are spoiled when we feel blase about going to Disneyland? Why do some people at restaurants stare at the food you and your friend have just ordered? It may be because they think it looks good, but there is an unspoken time limit, people. After that, it's just rude. What is wrong with America? On the other hand, what's right? Does it signal a problem when I have a hard time logging off the internet? Wait, I don't want an answer to that one. The rest, feel free.