Hi everyone, this is Caden, Sarah's grandson. Granny was in the hospital with a bad case of the flu. She is starting to feel better. She didn't stay over tonight because she needed to rest more. She is going to stay here on Thursday after she goes to my conference. She will write to you all then. Caden

Hi everyone this is Caden, Sarah's grandson. My Granny was in the hospital with a bad case of the flu. Right now she is getting better. She could not stay over tonight because she is still feeling very tired. She is going to stay here on Thursday after she goes to my conference. She will write to you all then:) Caden

MY COMPUTER IS STILL DEAD AND

EASTER IS CANCELLED!

The latest word is...my computer guru is awaiting a quote from some Pakistanis in New Jersey. See what you get for living in the middle of nowhere? I am beginning to feel like I am in a Seinfeld episode and pretty soon the credits are going to start to roll and I won't know what's so funny.

The next funny thing...is watching me attempt to use Tina's cell phone. It rings, well, it doesn't really "ring," it makes this noise like a slot machine. I pick it up. It is very, very small. These giant fingers have to figure out which magic button I am supposed to poke and then get it to my ear fast enough to say hello...instead of doing that, though, I drop it. Finally, I get it back in my hands and can't tell where you are supposed to talk. Where is that circle with the little holes that the sound goes through? I don't get it. While I am certainly grateful for the computer, I see the value in that, these damn miniaturized doo-hickeys make me feel like I have King Kong fingers.

Will update you tomorrow...on whether my baby will be taking a trip to the Jersey shore. Meanwhile, I will worry about whether or not I should have cleaned some of the more bizarre things off of it before dropping it off. So, until tomorrow, when I return to work, I will bid you a fond adieu and ask that you burn some kind of sacrifice to the computer goddess for the quick recovery of my baby.

It happened and I couldn't even talk about it until this morning. I got my computer home on Friday, turned it on and within five minutes it was on its death bed again. Computer guru Mike had disassembled my Sony Vaio and had resoldered the connection where the AC cord connects to the computer. It quit working within minutes of turning it on.

I returned it to the guru yesterday and will have to wait and see what is happening. Until then, dear friends, I will be stealing time at work to read your blogs and write. Plus, I have my daughter's computer to steal time on, too.

I really can't talk about it anymore. Tomorrow I will come up with something hilarious, but until then, I'll just throw on ashes and sackcloth and bemoan my fate. Woe is me!

MOST EMBARRASSING...

How could anybody's most embarrassing moment have anything but a fart in it...or, in my case a number of farts.

When I was in school, I never completed a full school year at any one school, or at least that is how I remember it. When you move that much, it is hard to make friends, or keep friends or even fit in on any level. When you are also stuck in the system of poverty, alcoholism, and total family dysfunction, isolation becomes your best friend.

That world worked out fine, most of the time. Occasionally. though, I would end up in a foster home or some other kind of placement that required socialization on some level or another. At this particular time, I was in about the fourth grade...approximate, since trying to remember exactly what year it was is next to impossible. I was in a foster home that was close to the swamp in Florida...outside of Jacksonville Beach. At that time, there wasn't the development that there is now and there was quite a bit of wild land out there.

Palmetto bushes would cut you to shreds if you weren't careful. Bugs would eat you alive. The skanky smell of the swamp would embed itself in your nasal cavities and you had to be pretty tough to develop a tolerance for it. At this particular home, "Go outside and get yourself some fresh air, girl," was a daily order. All I wanted to do was find some place to hide and read and escape from the reality of life. (A talent I still use to this day...coupled with the magic of the internet!)

Outside, I would go. Sometimes I could sneak away and find a place to hunker down and hide from the enforced socialization. More often than not, however, I found myself with a group of kids who loved to play the game of "Mess with the new Kid." Guess who was the new kid?

There we were playing in the swamp, running up the trunks of fallen trees covered with slimy moss and who knew what other slimy shit there was out there. My feet were not as toughened as theirs were. Running through the brush, I had to bite my tongue to keep from showing how much of a wimp I was. I had avoided running up the tree trunk, it looked like it required more physical dexterity that I had. After being goaded, dared and finally threatened, I took my turn at it.

Approximately half way up, I slipped...arms and legs out, I fell flat upon the trunk with my chest and fell over the side to the ground on my back...and I had knocked the breath out of myself. Like a turtle on its back, I lay there gasping and thrashing and looking up into the filthy faces of about eight grinning ten year olds...

When, it happened. The convulsions from attempting to catch my breath apparently activated my body's desire to exchange air and the only end that was working was the asshole end. There I was, with every flop of my body a fart escaped and the kids guffawed. I thought I was going to die and that this was going to be the humiliating exit that the fates had thrust upon me. Actually, by this time I was hoping I would die.

As luck would have it, my breath finally returned and I regained control of my symphonic asshole and sped off towards any available hole to crawl into. I remember swearing to myself that friends just weren't worth it, humiliation was not something anyone with a sane mind would ever choose and the road to introversion was set in stone.

Also set in stone were years of constipation and gas as I became absolutely convinced I could live with nothing ever leaving my body involuntarily. Today, let's just say, don't pull the finger...grandsons give more freedom than years of reasoning ever could.

SHE'S DANCIN' IN THE STREET

I don't think I can express how happy I am today. Those expired flexeril and some, uh, uh, my daughter reads this, uh, ganja put me right out and when I awoke I only had a little stiffness in my neck. And, it's a good damned thing...there's a UMD women's hockey game tonight that my boy and I are going to. Play-off time and all that. I have decided that collegiate women's hockey is the hottest sport there is. The best hockey game I ever saw was a triple overtime UMD game for the championship a couple of years ago. And, the boy loves it, too.

I will be jumpin' up and yellin' for all to hear tonight. And then spending the night at Tina's house so I can go and see the boy play basketball in the morning. The kid is nine and is the granny's retirement plan. I taught him to dribble when he was three...and the famous lessons on the importance of outside shots and rebounds. I can see it now..."I'd like to thank my Granny for teaching me all I neede about basketball...even how to use elbows without being caught." That's what I got kicked off the team for. Unnecessary roughness. My sports career was short lived...it was well before Title IX and we played "girlie" games...I ended up in single player sports...not a great team player...but I bet you knew that already. How in the hell can you play volleyball and worry about breaking a nail? You can't...and I kind of made the point go home with a quick bitch slap when we lost again. Oh yeah, I was a toughie.

My computer seems to be hanging in there. I am going to make a computer bed for it...so when I put it down at night it isn't on some cold, dark, floor. I think what I would really like is one of those things that you got in the hospital...you know, it turns over your bed to eat, or to stash stuff in...I see it now, I am turning into Proust who spent thirteen years in bed. I will leave behind no Tales of Rembrances past, simply attempts at trying to remember the past.

I have decided that tomorrow I will write about my most embarassing moment ever. I didn't even have to question which one I would choose. It pretty much set my opinion of human interaction to this day.

GO BULLDOGS!

SHE'S HOME...BUT, AS USUAL, THERE IS SOMETHING ELSE TO WHINE ABOUT....

My computer is home and I am all snuggled into bed with her right this moment. Doing all the perverse things one does with a 37 gigabyte hardrive and RAM out the whazoo...OOOO baby...and worth ever dime of the $405 dollars it took to ransom her from Mike, the computor guru. I am feeling fulfilled again and promise to never take her for granted again...

So, I am happily home, surfing and writing new and wonderful things for the world to share. Oh, and suffering from a sore neck that means I can't turn my head. I had to leave work an hour early because all I could think about was my neck and the pain. On the drive home, I hit a patch of ice on the dirt road I live on and barrelled right into a snowbank. All I could think about was getting home and taking muscle relaxants, turning on the tv and floating off into relaxing oblivion.

Now here comes the nice thing about living in Minnesota. I walked about a half a mile to my neighbor's house to see if he could pull me out. Oops, he went to Florida to fish. His wife said that she would come and help me as soon as they were through delivering her new bed...heh heh heh...There I am, nicing it up with two furniture delivery guys like I'm a true damsel in distress and managed to hustle them into coming up the road and pushing me out. I love Minnesota.

Then it was to bed...oh shit, where did I put the flexeril? I wonder how old that is...I don't think it will poison me...I don't care if it does poison me, I want drugs. I also have a stash of Lortabs around here someplace, too...but, I can't really remember where they are either. I've either gotten too old to remember where my stash is or my days as a dedicated part time user don't mean as much to me. Ain't it a bitch when you find out that all the drugs are to relieve discomfort and tripping is something you are afraid of because you might break a hip.

So, I'm semi-loopy, will worry about the Lortab tomorrow, have discovered that taking muscle relaxants that expired five years ago won't kill you and truly enjoying the light coming from my screen and the comforting whir of whatever in the hell it is that goes around inside of my baby. And, I am heartily thankful that I didn't name her...although, apparently I did sex her...what's that called? Oh, hell, I don't care...loopy signing out with more to come now that I am whole again!

Image swiped from Astounding Cards

This girl is ready for something...Anything...the computer wasn't ready yesterday. Maybe today. I received a new assignment at work...at next month's all staff meeting I am to do a presentation on the financial statements and how to understand them. Why do I get the feeling like I am the "man behind the curtain" and there is nothing to understand...does this mean I will have to start "understanding" editorial content? Just leave me alone with my numbers and excel spreadsheets and don't try and pry me into participation. I am looking for one of those arrow things like Steve Martin used to wear on his head to try and spice up the presentation...or what...who cares, oops, I've fallen back into my morose, no computer mode...see ya later.

TODAY MAY BE THE DAY

Today, please, let it be today. It sounds like the beginning of a torchy love song. It is. I love my computer, and I have been told it will be well today and able to go home with me. My bed has been so lonely without it. Of course, the house is a lot cleaner, the recycling is gone from the winter build up, the dog remembers my name and I have learned that I am truly addicted to the internet. I have, however, weaned myself from the nicotine gum and have had a physical.

The physical went fine. My thyroid levels were off...I am going to use that as an excuse for having gained the weight I did. After we adjust the medication maybe I'll go down a bit. Bone density test on the horizon. I passed the plain density test with flying colors and have discovered that my density remains consistent.

Here's a funny. I am writing this at work so will fall back on easy entry # 104:

Here's a dilemma for you...what would you do? :o) This test only has one question, but it's a very important one. Please don't answer it without giving it some serious thought. By giving an honest answer you will discover where you stand morally. The test features an unlikely, completely fictional situation, in which you will have to make a decision. Remember that your answer needs to be honest, yet spontaneous. Thoughtfulness is important for this evaluation to be meaningful! Ready? Begin! You're in Florida...In Miami, to be exact... There is chaos round you, caused by a hurricane and severe floods. This is a flood of major proportions. You are a photojournalist working for a major newspaper caught in the middle of this great disaster. The situation is nearly hopeless. You're trying to shoot career-making photos. There are houses and people swirling around you, some disappearing under the water. Nature is showing all its' destructive fury. You see a man in the water! He is fighting for his life, trying not to be taken away with the water and debris. You move closer. Somehow the man looks familiar. Suddenly, you know who it is... it's George Bush. Isn't life ironic? At the same time you notice that the raging waters are about to take him under, forever. You have two options. You can save him or you can take the most dramatic photos of your life. You can save the life of President Bush, or you can shoot a Pulitzer Prize-winning photo, documenting the death of one of the world's most powerful men. Now, here's the question (please give an honest answer) : Would you select color film, or rather go with the classic simplicity of black and white?

Please no nasty notes...just laugh, feel guilty or whatever. Change the name if it makes you feel better. I don't care.

GOOD NEWS BAD NEWS, GIMME MY 'PUTER BACK!

I don't want to talk about it. It is broken. It is being fixed. I have a $500 deductible on my homeowners, which would cover it, but it won't cost more than $600 to get it fixed. I have a computer at work and I can play with it, and may just move into the office, as I have found myself doing far too many things around the house. Like....cleaning...

Laundry...check, all done.

Bedroom...check, can see floor.

Bathroom...check, shiny and sparkly.

Dishes...check, all clean and put away...

Books read since 'puter went down...four...

Something is trying to tell me something.

I will be checking in with all of you as often as I can...and I will try not to whine anymore.

THANKS, KIRK

Here I am, at my daughter's, checking out some blogs and good old Kirk has a "How Crazy Are You?" test on his blog. Tina and I take it.

How can someone this crazy:

Disorder	Rating
Paranoid:	High
Schizoid:	Very High
Schizotypal:	High
Antisocial:	High
Borderline:	Low
Histrionic:	Moderate
Narcissistic:	High
Avoidant:	Low
Dependent:	Low
Obsessive-Compulsive:	High
-- Personality Disorder Test - Take It! --

Raise someone this sane?:

Disorder	Rating
Paranoid:	Low
Schizoid:	Low
Schizotypal:	Low
Antisocial:	Low
Borderline:	Low
Histrionic:	Moderate
Narcissistic:	Low
Avoidant:	High
Dependent:	High
Obsessive-Compulsive:	Moderate
-- Personality Disorder Test - Take It! --

And to top it off...when it was all over, she says, "Do you feel better or worse after taking that test?" To which I replied..."I don't care." (Which would fall under the "I don't give a shit" brand of craziness.) Good, she says, "I kinda feel better, but I didn't want to say anything if you felt bad." At which point, we both cracked up. She's so damn sensitive, and...really happy she's pretty sane and I'm the crazy motherfucker. She'll be signing me up for underwater basket weaving real soon. (That is, as soon as we quit laughing our asses off.)

I WILL NEVER COMPLAIN ABOUT HOW MY BLOG LOOKS AGAIN

And the reason, my dear friends, is simple. The blog is fine and the only thing wrong with it now is that I can only access it from my daughter's house (where I am now) or at work (where I will be tomorrow.) The reason...my poor 'puter is sick. Not real sick, I hope. I am hoping that all it is will require a slight soldering of a connection and I will have it back by Wednesday.

The little doo-hickey that you plug into the thing-a-ma-jig on the back of the laptop to make it magic isn't connecting. I checked out the power source and my fear is that the machine must be opened up by a professional. Not that I didn't consider it yesterday when I was home and going through withdrawal. No blogs to write, no blogs to read, no silly games of Bounce-out or e-mail, no wonderful messages from those who fill me with joy. How did I live without it?

Tuesday, because of the liberal work place I am lucky enough to be employed by, is a holiday. International Women's Day. Woo-hoo! And I get paid for it. So that I can pay someone to fix my baby.

I miss you all and will see you at work tomorrow and my sweet'ums should be fixed by Wednesday night and I will return to tell all the exciting things I have found to do while baby was down.