Happy Birthday to James! Happy Birthday to James! Happy Birthday to Jaaaaaaaaames! Happy Birthday to James!


James! Have a good one, you deserve it.

Someone should have told me my layout looks like total crap.



Guess I'll spend today redoing it. You've got to remember I create my layouts for how they look on MY computer, which was very good, thank you. However, after looking at it on someone elses, it turned out to be like those people I wonder how they ever get designing jobs.



%$&#$.


So, more then likely you're NOT seeing it the way I intended it to be seen.


Yes, exactly what is on my nano page..I'm lazy. So there!

My Nano Page


Go give it a visit and please tell me what you think. Not everything is there by a long shot, but it should all be done by tomorrow evening. Yip! I can't wait to get going.

I love fall. Especally when all the apples are ready to make stuff like applesauce and pies. Everything smells like apples and cinnamon now, and tomorrow I'm going to work on the pies. Woo!

Wohoo! Well, I'm signed up for NaNoWriMo. (Where you write a 50k novel in 30 days, starting in November..but sign ups are open now) I'm going to try this thing again this year. Last year I didn't finish but I did try, so don't be too ashamed of me.


So far my partners in self-torture are Kelly and Fred. I've got a couple more people teetering on the edge, and Prana is one of them who hasn't succombed to the dark side, but I think she might..and our little group (The Cardboard Box Wrimos) is open for more friends in misery so if you sign up (and I think you should) let me know and I'll add you to our mailing list.


C'mon..what's it going to hurt?

I'm moving Kiddlets.com to a new server because it's turning back into a preschool site. (It was my design site..now my design site is moving to Brighterskyte.com, which is about time).



Anyhow...if some of the images and things are broken here for the next 24 to 48 hours it's because I'm moving stuff around. Just forgive me, and keep your fingers crossed. ;)

Well...hrm, someone found my site by searching for 'I want to poke your eyes out and make love'.



No, no you don't. Not really.

I have ravioli with good spagetti sauce today. I'm currently fighting a wonderful burning bout of heartburn. (It's almost like swimin' with the Devil maw!) But...it's worth it, because it's nummy. What makes good spagetti sauce according to me? (I know you don't care, but lord all mighty, you keep coming back and reading this, so you should know by now what you're going to get.)


Good spagetti sauce is when you can still identify 99.9% of all the components, but don't feel like you're crunching into a almost-done bug with every bite. Where you get big nice chunks of stuff like garlic and olives and green pepper and mushrooms and and and...


Good spagetti sauce hasn't been purreed into a sludge that looks like a mix of tomato boogers and rejected Red Cross blood.


Good spagetti sauce makes me say: "Wow." (Great big long pause) "This Spagetti Sauce Is Good."


I'm not Italian, (In fact, I'm Native American, German and Irish...nowhere near Italian) so I'm sure nobody's going to take my word for it, but you don't have to be Italian to bean someone over the head with a bat. (No offense to any Italian, except for those of you who know that comment was for you, then take as much offense as you wish.) So, I don't think you have to be Italian to know what good `getti sauce is either.


Thank you for joining me for this extremely nonsense post, I hope you enjoyed it almost as much as the point of posting it baffled you. Come again soon. That is all.

100 Things About Me #85: I've been shot at.


When I was younger and my mom was still married to The Psycho, we spent alot of time being shuffled around from one place to live to another. Mostly because it was one way that he (The Psycho, that's really mean..I should quit calling him that) could keep control, by telling us where we could or couldn't live.

One of the places we used to live was a little rinky-dink town in Eastern Oregon called Stanfield, in fact, if you were to visit that lovely peice of smoking donkey poo town today, you could drive past the house I used to live in next to the city park. According to my grapevine sources, the house is still owned by T.P., or possibly T.P's parents. (Sold to them on a whim to get them to pay his overdue child support, no doubt.)


Please note that I call him 'The Psycho' not because I harbor undelt with anger towards the man - oh no - I call him that because he is. And I have the manifestos to prove it.


Anyway, it was summer during one of our 'move backs' to Stanfield, and I was like 10 and out in the park nextdoor to our house (Right next door too, our property lines met.) playing baseball with a bunch of my friends. It was actually a really fun summer, a good summer because T.P. was gone somwhere. Mushroom picking? Fishing? I don't remember, but I remember for a good bout of almost six weeks he wasn't there, and I reveled in it. When he was gone, it ment I could be a real kid, and not just someones slave or someone trying to hide out in my room to avoid having to deal with him.


But that summer, yeah..I remember, there was a whole gang of us, anywhere from five to nine of us at any time. I usally ended up being the only girl though, which was frustrating most of the time, but I didn't mind hanging out with 'the guys'. (I always end up with more guy friends then girls..what is that?) We split our time up between bad monster movies, swimming in the river, and attempting to convince each other that we were each the best damn hitters that ever lived in this dumpy town. I, was not a hitter, in fact I'm ashamed to say I was one of those kids who flinched every time a pitch was thrown. I had good reason however, I was always getting smacked with the ball. So, in a vain attempt to thwart bruises, I learned to live my life as a fielder. A very very very far outfielder fielder, as far away from the ball as I could get. It didn't work, but it was good logic on my part. I guess.


It was a really sunny day, and there were about six or seven of us and we were standing in a group arguing over something. Who was out, who wasn't, I don't remember exactly. (I'm sure whatever it was it held the fate of our game in the balance. You know how kids are.) And the park was always full of other people, usally people playing basketball or picknicking under this huge oak next to the swings, so there was always cars going by and people yelling to each other and what not. I don't ever remember feeling unsafe or uncomfortable, I (and everyone else) had lived in that town off and on for so long that I don't think any of us were really worried about anything bad happening to us. Kids don't worry about that stuff most of the time anyway, what they're doing today is more important that what could happen.


So, anyway, with all the people and cars we didn't pay attention to the blue pick-up that was going around and around the park, in fact, we didn't notice it at all. It was someone else not even involved with us who had. Standing there listening to the guys argue back and forth about stupid bases, I was getting pretty bored, and I remember looking up just in time to hear a loud 'pop' and watch someone in this pick-up that was driving by pull something in his passinger side window and speed away.


Scared the shit out of us, let me tell you.


I remember my mom, and Stephen's (Who was pitching I think) mom who lived across the street running out and asking if that was backfire. It sounded too loud to be backfire.


Whoah, I'm thinking....he shot at us!


So, some of the others piped up...they had seen the guy pull a gun in his window too. The cops were called...I don't remember talking to them, but I might have. I remember someone saying they felt something go past their face, I don't remember who that was either.


Nobody was hurt, and I don't know if they ever found the guys who did it, or if they ever had any more problems like that in the park. I do remember that it was a while before my mom would let us go galavanting around town again that summer. I don't think it dramaticly changed my views on the world, or on childhood, or on summer. It didn't traumatize me to the point I couldn't function like a normal kid. I remember lots more of that summer, and it all included alot of laughing. It just turned into one more story I've got in my big bag of stories.


I do remember being oddly mystified in that one instant though. Hell, we were just playing baseball, what would anyone shoot at us for?

I have to talk to someone about something they're doing and I really hate it when I have to do this. Why can't people just behave rationally and then I wouldn't have to bring up stuff they think I don't notice and be the bad guy.


I don't make a good bad guy! I can't ride a horse and I think spitting is icky.

I signed up for the Ornament Exchange at Miz Jenna's. I wanted to do it last year but found out about it too late...so I'm doing it this year.



You should all go over and sign up too, it should be fun.

Today I was supposed to go to some PDR/Whatever they're calling it now class, (Classes that add to my 'professional development registry' that in some obscure way I can trade in for college credits later, if I believe them that is.) I didn't go because I wasn't sure if I'd make it through the day without dying or throwing up on someones shoe. This is the second class this week I've missed because I feel like crud. The last one I ended up going, but sleeping in the car because I was misrable and couldn't see straight to do anything, let alone sit through a class.



Lucky me!



That's 7 hours I've missed out on...7 hours I really did need that I could have gotten in those two classes, and now I'm going to have to make them up by doing 5 other classes. Dang me and my tummy anyway.



So insted, I'm sitting here working on Hot Lake which I've finally gotten to actually go to the place it's actually supposed to go to. It only took me rebuying the domain so I could access it so it would point to the host. At least now the old host it was with can't hold it hostage anymore. Now I just need to get hotlake.net to do the same thing...I hope I don't have to wait till that one is up again to get it.

Look! Incoherent Babblings and it isn't even me!


I'm not delusional enough to think I'm the only person using those two words, but it's weird to actually see it.

AND that site linked to TPC! Pretty nifty.

100 Things About Me #16: I'm a closet Jones Soda Junkie.


have been since way back when, before people thought they were good just because their bottles were seen on Teeny Bopper TV shows. Jones Soda is nummy.



Not only are they great because (obviously) they make wonderful sodas in interesting flavors,(Like 'Green Apple' which I've got in my hot little hand right now, 'Blue Bubble Gum' and 'Fun/Happy' and their Jones Naturals are sooo yummy.), but they're local (Woo hoo Northwest!), reasonably priced, and they promote good stuff, like recycling and education for girls in countries where girls are normally viewed as less then.



Plus, their packaging is just plain cool. (They also have a 'My Jones' program, which lets you personalize bottles for an occasion. Very fun. No, that ah..wasn't a hint...) So if you've never tried them, I suggest you do, then you can be a closet junkie like me!

I didn't fall asleep until 6 this morning because I wasn't feeling well, so I overslept. Guess who came while I was at home sleeping? Our friendly neighborhood state!


Why, you ask? Because a lady we fired for having head lice over and over (among other things) called and said that there was head lice at this Childcare.


Yeah, there was! You had it lady!


Ugh.


I'm just gritting my teeth and waiting....this Preschool better work out, or I'm just going to go start working for McDonalds, because anything is better then this.

Robert delivered the goods today.

They're all piled up nice and neat in big brown boxes just begging to be pawed through right now in my hallow-sounding guestroom. (Sans bed, since that was stolen from me earlier in the week by it's former owner who decided that, almost a year later, he wanted it back. I, was just nice enough to give it to him. Well, the matress anyway, he didn't take the frame. It's resting in my garage, where empty futon frames seem more at home then in half decorated guestrooms that are slowly losing furniture.) Just resting there like little treasure boxes, filled with all sorts of goodies for me to beam and cringe over. The magic of cardboard boxes! Big, small, tall, squashed, it dosen't matter what size, what's in them, (or if you already know what's in them because they belong to you), they always have some sort of deranged draw that makes your hands itch to open them up until, with a scary cry of glee, you give in. Boxes! Oh Boxes! How I love thee! I don't even care if you send me all the junk mail of every home in the Northwest, if it's in a box. There is just something about getting that taped-to-hell package with the little dirt smear and your name on it that makes everything peachy. It's a sickness, I think.


You know, I wouldn't last a day as a mail carrier.


So...the goods. 12 lovely boxes, big boxes, nice, big, square boxes, all sitting in my guestroom. And I don't even know what's in them! Well, I know what's in them, but I don't know whats in them. See, Robert brought me all his mothers old Avon stuff (12 boxes full) because he wants to take a stab at selling them on E-bay. So right now they're sitting all nice and cozy in my house to keep wayward hands (HA!) from digging/breaking/ect. them. (I don't plan on the braking or the ect part...and I'll dig carefully!) All of the Avon stuff is from the 60's and 70's and 99.9% of it is in it's packaging still. 98.9% of it is purfume bottles...and unfortunatly (fortunatly for collectors I guess...unfortunatly for me) they also still have all the purfume in them.


My guestroom (And, the back of Robert's truck!) smells like a dead French whore.


I, however, think that -and the wonderful stabbing headache I got from just being around the unopened boxes - is a small price to pay to be able to look at goodies. For now, anyway....ask me later, after I've gone through everything and I faint and have nightmares of dying a horrible slow death at the purfume counter of Pennies.

I spent the majority of the day in a ECD/PDR class (that was boring as a trip to the glue factory) to better myself for my job and guess what I come home to? An artical in the lovely Parents 'premote fear' magazine about how Preschool (childcare providers) teachers are unqualified and abusive. This is the third such artical I've seen in there this year saying that (In the overall theme of the articals) childcare providers and preschool teachers are abusive and deplorable, and promoting fear and distrust in parents.
.

.

.

.

.

You know, the crap, slander, and abuse we all take for this job dosen't make it worth it. If it wasn't for the fact that I honestly like working with children enough to try opening a straight preschool, I would have run for the hills a long time ago and never looked back.


I agree that some in this profession - like all professions everywhere - aren't good for the job. But when is the media going to stop pushing fear and distrust and start telling the whole story? They've never once published a good artical about childcare or preschool. Ever. All articals might have a tad good, but it's weight out by how abusive, terrible, and unqualified we are. I'm actually half thinking about writing and telling them how disapointed and tired I am of the media, the parents and the goverment putting me and my profession down.


But, since I'm just a childcare provider/preschool teacher I bet they won't listen to me. After all, a child abuser wouldn't tell the truth.

100 Things About Me: #33 I do face painting.

I've decided to throw these out randomly, that way, I have something to post for 100 days!


I picked up a box of face paints about two years ago, and have been doing it anywhere from every day to six times a month at the least since. I like it, and I'm actually kind of good at it. People seem to like it too (It's the little things I guess), it's even gotten to the point that my siblings friends come over and ask me to 'Paint them'. In fact, there is a plot going around to get me to paint faces on picture day...unfortunatly for them, I'm not going to. (I think parents would be angry. I think it would be kewl...but when you weigh the two against each other, screaming angry parents win out.)


Someday I'll get a decent digital camera and show off some of my face painting. I'm not great, and I'm still learning, but I love to practice on anybody who will sit still. (Or anyone who will let me hit them with my brushes to get them to sit still.)


If you've ever wanted to try it (I say do it, just get yourself some paints and start stalking victims!) I will happily share Jamie's Tips For Attempting Decent Face Painting with you. Ready? Good.


1. Don't Worry. Seriously. Don't worry that you won't be good enough, that you don't have any talent, that you just got paint in somebodies hair. (Well, try and avoid that one...even if it does wash out.) Just relax and have fun. Don't worry if you mess up either, it's just paint.


2. Esperament (That's 'experiment' in kiddie speak) If you get an idea, run with it. Don't be afraid to use body glitter, sticky rhinestones, stuff to make textures...anything goes. You don't have to do it on the face either, arms, hands, legs, feet, neck, back...um..other places that are rated appropriate for the crowd you're doing works good too. Oh yeah, we were speaking of other things to use before? That takes us to tip #3.


3. Thrifty isn't a bad thing Face Painting supplies can get expensive, especally for the little bits and peices you'll end up using alot. There are a great many face paint companies that will shoot me for this tip, but it's true. Alot of them offer rhinestones and loose glitter for face painters, but unfortunatly some of them charge over the limit amounts for something that's exactly the same as the other on the market. These rhinestones and glitter are the same rhinestones and glitter avalible in places like Clares and Wal-Mart that are for sold for body decorations and they are avalible at half the cost. So insted of buying through a face paint place, get your body glitter at Clares, or order your rhinestones in bulk from U.S. Toy company, who sells them in packages of 144 for 5 bucks. U.S. Toy Co also sells those neat body rhinestone tattoos in bulk. Great for adding an extra something to a design.


4. Use Decent Paint. You don't have to get the most expensive, but make sure you get FDA approved paint that is of some good quality. Bad paint is just plain bad. It cracks, chips, runs, and can irritate skin. Plus, your work will look better with a paint that isn't yucky.


5. Use Tons of Brushes & Sponges. Brushes are good, sponges are good too. Try and swing it so you have one brush for every pot of paint. I know it turns into a whole bunch of brushes, but the extra washing at the end of the day is MUCH better then painting with poo water...which brings us to 6.


6. DON'T USE POO WATER! Poo water, as it's so nicely named by someone I know, is when your water turns that lovely brown color from your brush and paints. Using a brush for each color (or color range) will stop this because you won't have to rinse your brush out, ever. Just dip your brush in a tiny bit to get water you need, and you'll stop the poo problem. Becides looking bad, (and making you look bad!) poo water will also change the colors of the paint on your brush and in the pot, causing you a lovely time of wiping off the top of your paints to get rid of that brownish stain from the water. Bad, don't do it!


7. Surf The Net. There are a huge amount of face painting websites out there. (who knew?) All of them usally offer photo albumbs of painting they've done. Trust me, if you surf these you'll get all sorts of great ideas (and hints, tips and walkthroughs) and you won't have to buy a book or video. Not, that books and videos are bad.


8. Practice on anybody you can get your hands on. Over, and over and over until they hate you, face painting and everything associated with it. You'll lose some friends, but will be a better painter for it. You can also print off (from some websites) drawn faces of kids to practice on...it's not the same, but it'll help you get certain strokes down.


9. If you charge, charge what you're worth. I don't charge because I don't do it at shows or anything (I've thought about it, but haven't) If you DO charge, set your OWN limit before hand and don't make anyone tell you different. Charge what you're worth, because it's your time and your talent and because you're worth it, damnit. Don't make me beat you.


10. Make a kit. Keep all your face painting stuff in a kit. You can use a good sized tackle box, they work well. It helps keep all your junk in one spot, and it makes it easier for you to work. Some stuff to keep in it? Wet naps, extra brushes and sponges (Again, bulk makeup brushes work just as good as any!), paint (of course), glitter, rhinestones, texture stuff (rice, beans, sand), a mirror, business cards (if you do that sort of face painting), and whatever else you feel the need to huff around with you.


11. Clip the kids. If you decide to make a face painting kit (I've got one...sorta!) then keep some good hairclips in there, so you can clip hair away from the faces of the bra..kids...you're working on. Nothing makes you more frustrated then a good face ruined by hair!


12. Be polite but firm if you charge, or even if you don't, make sure you're polite to people you're painting, but don't let them walk on you! Make sure they know they have to sit still (and if they don't, don't paint them), make them stand in line if you need (And make sure you let people know when you're going to be done, and don't waiver from it...when you're done, be done!), and make sure that both you and the person you're painting are clear with knowing what is wanted...and if they change their mind, just hit them a few times, they'll change it back.


12. Ask If you need help, ask...me, someone else who does it, someone on the net. I don't know about anyone else, but I'm pretty sure I don't bite.


There, those are my tips (so far) that I have to offer. So, if you're in a craft store and see a box of face paint, pick it up, cause it's kind of fun, and you never know...you might like it. (gasp..lol...I'm such a geek..)

13 million American children (Over 28 million Americans total) go hungry every year in the United States because their families can't afford food.


Show that you really care about your countrymen. Show that you're a real patriot, and do something about it.


Because it's hard be a great country, when the people in our country are going hungry.

Keep your fingers crossed ok? We've been given the go ahead to rent an entire self-sustaining building and convert it into a preschool. (The building includes parking AND a huge lot of land) Now, between starting our normal preschool program here, not feeling very well, all the everything online I do, I'm also in the stages of setting up proposals and working on getting this moving, and it is a huge move.


This is awesome just the same, for many reasons....read on:



Reasons Why Jamie Wants To Open A Preschool Somewhere Else:

1: It will be somewhere else, and it's a self contained building, including an upstairs, two bathrooms and a kitchen.

2. We won't be doing any more childcare, just 31/2 hour preschool classes (Two classes every day, 2 - 3 year olds 2 days a week and 3 - 4 year olds 3 days a week).

3. No more childcare.

4. No more childcare! It means no more diapers, no more BS from parents, no more showing up when they shouldn't...none.

5. No more state. Preschools aren't concitered childcare, therefore aren't regulated by a single state agency that's harassed us in the last five years.

6. It has the potental to bring in a huge sum of money. (Money is good) More then we're making now, because people think 'preschool' deserves more money then 'childcare' does. Which is stupid, but true.

7. I get to fingerpaint even more.

8. It's right next door to my college.



Yes, this could make me very very happy. Right now we have a tentitive schedualed reopening date of January 5th. That leaves a major amount of work to do between then and now. I think it'll be worth it though. The first thing we have to do? Think of a name...any suggestions?

Either the poor person chained to the wall in the basement of Jane Magazine who licks the address lables and keeps the subscribers in order has messed up, or someone hates me (or thinks I need it) and keeps resubscribing me and paying for it, but I keep getting Jane magazine.


I've been getting it for over a year now.


Perhaps I sleepwalked and I subscribed myself, but I doubt it. Regardless, I now have this magazine coming to my house once a month. Goodie for me.


Now, I'm not saying it's bad (awful, trash, drivvle) because I'm sure someone out there likes it. Every once in a while I like something in it too, but it is deffinatly not something I'd pay (a dime! cough) for. I don't care who the biggest hollywood sex fiend is, or tips to make my hair more sexy, or what the worst insult someone heard about makeup ever was.

Between the downtown department store purfume counter like smell that permeates the air the momment you open the bag (it comes in a bag, why you ask? To keep all the advertisments in, because you know you'll weep if the latest advert for 'Chanel' or 'Glamour' falls out on to the street and gets footie prints on it's holy surface.) thanks to the 30 some odd samples stuffed inside like an overdone thanksgiving turkey, and the aforementioned in the ()'s advertisments for everything from sanitary napkins to 'J-Lo's scent', I feel like I'm stuck in some scary Tommy-Girl billboard riddled world and can't get out.


Yes, I admit, every once in a while something slightly amusing is inside, but deep down I just can't bring myself to justify that it makes it worth the money.


Oh well, at least I have extra litter box liner now.

I haven't updated much lately, I probably should be stuck in a potato sack and beat with a large stick, but I'm hoping you'll forgive me and just let it go this time.



I just don't really have anything interesting to write about. There are alot of things going on, but none of them I really feel like sharing or going in to at the least. It's almost September (which is terrifying, by the way) and next week everybody goes back to school - including me. Well, I'm teaching anyway.


On the 4th we're starting back up our Preschool program (Since, you know, it's that time again), and I'm going to be extremely busy from now till then getting everything set up for it, so I probably won't be updating much until after the 8th sometime when I finally am back into the swing o' things. I've got a good two page list of stuff I have to have finished before Wednesday, most of it is prep work, (I hate prep work! I want to hire someone to do all the dumb pre-cutting cutting for me. Anyone interested? I'll give you a free pair of child safety scissors!) which I guess isn't...ok, it is. It's bad, very bad. Prep work stinks. I also have filing, letter writing, and lesson planning stuff to do.


September's theme? It includes friendship, the numbers 1 & 2, and the color red. Yay..now I can finally review those pesky 1's and 2's that I always have trouble with. It also includes a school bus puppet that will be used to 'talk to the kids about important issues and interact with them using songs, stories and bus sounds'.


Joy.

By the way, to the person who voodoo'ed me. I will find you, and when I do, you will be sorry.


Very. Very. Sorry.

I want a new layout. Any suggestions? I've done six and threw them all in the recycle bin because I'm not happy with them. Argh! Argh I say!

We started three new kids today, and before they were even here more then three hours they had already pooped on the floor and one had taken off her pooey diaper and put it in a toybox.



Oh yes, I so love this job.

It's raining!


Just wanted to share. It's the little things, you know?

Rhea Rhyolin: I'm doing ok...we have a USDA worker coming over today (hence the away message) she really does come and watch the kids eat, and then leaves...it's really creepy
angrypsychokel: yeeep.. what're they looking for?
Rhea Rhyolin: They just want to make sure that providers whom they're compinsating for meals feed kids 'proper balanced meals' and not things like paste and thumbtacks
Rhea Rhyolin: Which I've only done ONCE!
Rhea Rhyolin: lol
angrypsychokel: Aaaaah
angrypsychokel: *lol* I was just about to ask you about that!


Geesh, you feed a kid Elmers once and nobody forgets about it....;)

Rhea Rhyolin: How's stuff with you?
kusanagi51: nothing too new to speak of
kusanagi51: wait, I remember something
kusanagi51: have you ever been hit by a glob of hot tar?
Rhea Rhyolin: Nope
Rhea Rhyolin: Can't say I have
kusanagi51: well keep it that way
kusanagi51: it feels like a cross between a sunburn and a bee sting
Rhea Rhyolin: :-( How'd you end up getting hit by hot tar?
kusanagi51: well some guys were redoing the roof of my garage, and I needed a shirt out of there (and thus bare skinned) and then a glob fell through the cracks on the top and hit me on my left shoulder
Rhea Rhyolin: Ouch, I'm sorry
Rhea Rhyolin: :-( You ok?
kusanagi51: yeah, I'm ok- cool thing is I may get a rad scar!
kusanagi51: actually at the moment the burn is blood-red
Rhea Rhyolin: Ouch
Rhea Rhyolin: When'd it happen?
kusanagi51: on Friday
kusanagi51: just as I was getting ready to go to work
kusanagi51: so I went to work with a flesh wound
kusanagi51: yay
Rhea Rhyolin: Well, I guess the rad scar'll make up for it all then hu?



Would it be too terribly awful of me to say I'm glad I'm not a guy? Really, because I am. No offense to the guys out there, I just don't get that whole macho He-Man look maw I've got a flesh wound sort of thing and it's going to scar. It's kind of like being willing to have someone poke your eye with a big gnarly pointy stick just so you can wear a pirate patch and say "Argh!" alot.


I'm back, by the way. Did you miss me? I didn't think so.


My trip to Memphis was edumacational. I had fun (Sans the funeral, which if I had had (snicker) fun at, I'm sure I would have been frowned at. I hate being frowned at, nothing makes me feel more like a naughty six year old then frownage. Becides, it would have been disrespectful! (so there!) Urhm..), I did some of the tourist stuff...went to Graceland (I already went into that at TPC, so if you want to know, go there and read it. I can't type it all again...).



I didn't get to do some of the stuff I wanted, but hey...there is always next time. But if I go back, I'll go in the winter, when it's not so dang humid.


TPC, if I didn't mention this already, won two of the Blogathon awards. Can you believe it? (Neither could I...color me shocked.) We won 'Most Enthusiastic' and 'Best Webcam'. I'm actually so incredably flattered that people voted for us, have I mentioned I love you all lately? I can't believe it still...I was floored when Pran called me up and told me, I'm pretty sure I was even a tad girly and jumped up and down once or twice...but don't tell anyone...Ok?

I'm going to be gone for a while. One of my best friends, Ally's, mom died last night and I'm flying over to Memphis to see if I can be of some help.

I leave Tuesday morning at 12:50 am (Which means I have to leave for the airport tomorrow at 9, I'm catching the shuttle from the Salem airport and going up to Portland.) and will be back sometime Sunday. If you leave your address before I go, I'll send you a postcard.

But, for now, I have to go and rush around and get everything done before I leave for the airport tomorrow. I actually haven't flown on a commertial flight since I was like 3. I'm more worried about looking like an idiot while aimlessly running up and down the halls looking for my gate (Should I cry and scream for my mommy?) then the actually flying part.

So, anyway, hope that I don't crash and burn someplace.Or do, if you want to get rid of me.

I'm suing people. That's right. Two people:



Kelly, for picking her nose in public. And


Persa, for eating my dog.


I need you (yes, you) to go read each side and vote for me...er, the one who's right.


Also, if you didn't listen to Crushing Krisis during the blogathon go download his songs, they are beyond awsome.

The Blogathon went sooo great. I had a blast. TPC brought in half of our goal, which was more then we thought we'd get, and we gave away ALL of our prizes.


Thanks so much to everybody who sponsored TPC, came by TPC and rallied us, and everybody who kept us company. I hope that those of you who couldn't do it this year can next, or that some of you are inspired to come and try next year. `Cause, the more the marrier.


I have a ton of people I'm going to link to from IBOM that I found during the `Thon that I'm stalking. I hope you guys enjoy them as much as I did. (Hey, if someone is good enough to get your attention when you're half asleep and drooling at 3 am, they're worth linky love.)



So now, back to our regularly schedualed programming...

Hey! It's almost time for the Blogathon! The Countdown is on! A little under 14 hours before we start Blogathon 2002! I'm so excited I can't wait, we've met 250 of our 500 dollar goal which is awesome. (But if you still want to sponsor us you can!)


For those of you who don't know, I'm blogging with TPC this year, so I won't be here! TPC will be giving away prizes every 30 minutes as well as I (me, Skyte) will be blogging to you live from a paranormal investigation.


Pretty kewl hu?


So stop by ok? Check out the goings on, say hi...have some fun. It'll be great.

I just finished a layout for a blog. It just took a few minutes, and it's um..orange...but the person who I did it for likes it. (Yay)


What do YOU think?

Announcer: Welcome to another exciting chapter of Childcare In The 29 1/2 Foot Century, when we last left our brave Childcare providers they were frustrated with their profession and the lack of protection for Providers from violent clients. Now, we join our heroines as they face their most irrational problem yet...


Yesterday at work started out like yesterday's at work always do. Sunny, warm, little cartoon birdies singing in the trees. (Ok, so maybe not, but it was a nice day.) We only had three kids, so it wasn't to horrible. I was able to just kind of lounge around insted of chasing six or seven kids all over the place in the heat, which was wonderful because I didn't end the day with hair like the bride of frankenstines.


(This post will be finished soon)

Ok, so I missed the Blogathon cut off date. So, I won't be blogging with IBOM this year, just with TPC, which is fine because I felt bad about leaving Pran in a lurch anyhow. (Actually, she terrified me into not doing it with IBOM, she said something about twine, a stick of butter, and jumper cables.)


So, that's that. Next year however I hope to have better luck pulling off my gimmic with this blog (TPC's gimmic is giving stuff away, which is more like blantant bribery then a stunt, but you got to go with what your public wants right?), which was a damn good one. Until then, you'll just have to live in suspense.


In other news today, the spiders have returned, and I believe they have run off with the big stick I kept propped up on my garage for the sole reason of whacking down their sticky little webs of evil. Maybe they're hiding it until their strange little powers grow to the point they can bean me over the head with it as payback. You can't try and convince me that they're not plotting against me...I've heard the little squeeks late at night, I know they want me dead or otherwise horribly maimed and scarred for life.


I don't like spiders. I don't. More then I don't like ants, and I really don't like ants. Damn spiders.


It's a lovely Sunday outside...I'm not sure what my plans are. I went to Salem's Art Fest yesterday, but someone wants me to go with them again today so I might (I also went to the Saturday Market, but didn't buy anything. I wanted to go see the Highland Games but nobody would go with me, I hate going to things alone.)...or I might go to the river. Or I might just sit here, and sit. Out of all of them sitting sounds the best so far. Oh sitting, how I love thee.

Just when you think life can't get any funner, it does.



And you just can't help but yell 'Goodie' while looking for something to chop your apendages off.


Even better? I get to go find another job on Monday...I can work all of them can't I? Sure I can.

There are always people you wonder about after you move on from contact with them. I wonder about everyone I've ever lost contact with, but thanks to a bunch of name calling from people who call themselves 'friends', and putting my stalking abilities to good use. I tracked one down. :)



Yay! After not speaking with him for over a year (Maybe two?), I had the extreme pleasure of chatting with him over the phone (and a bit online) yesterday. Makes me feel really thankful to be able to pick up friendships where they left off, makes me kind of sad though that I still have others I might never speak to again.


Unless of course I stalk them.

I smell like cinnamon...yummy. Today is Robert's (Also known as 'Mom's new hubby guy') birthday. So I, using the ploy it's his birthday, when really all I want to do is decorate a cake, made a very yummy smelling oatmeal rasin carrot spice cake. Now if it tastes as good as it smells, will have to wait and see. So, if I don't ever post again, it's because the cake has killed us all.


Along the same lines, I'm currently looking for victims in my newest scheme. If you're interested, leave me a comment. No, I won't tell you what it is here, because then you won't agree. Erm...forget I said that.



Oh, and for those of you following my whole Blogathon fiasco, I do almost have permission to pull off the gimmic I've got planned. I should know by this evening if I am or not. Woo.

I was so snottily told in a letter that I had the audacity of putting the wrong date on the last post for the blogathon.



Fine! I'm WRONG! Are you happy now? I don't admit it often so write it down. It's the 27th and the 28th


People. ::snort::


lol


In the mean time, I still don't know if I'm going to be doing it this year with IBOM or not, stuff just isn't panning out. Not for my lack of trying, let me tell you. There is only so much that can be done by bribery and threats though. Good old fasion Mob tactics just aren't what they used to be.

"Where's the thing to sponsor you for the Blogathon thing?"



Ahaha, see, I haven't signed up yet. Signups end on July 20th, and so far I haven't gotten the information I need from the charity so I can offically sign up. Yes, I'm panicing. No, you don't have to panic with me. If I don't get the information I need by the begining of the week I'll probably either forgo the Blogathon with this blog and do it souly with TPC (Which you can go sponsor! PLEASE!) or I'll find another charity and do it with them.



My gimmic also isn't lining up the way I want it to (which upsets me, I had such a darn good one too) but it still might pan out, so never fear. Your options my little lovlies are hold on to your money until I sign up, or you can sponsor me with TPC, where I will for sure be blogging on the 26th.


Until then...we just have to wait.

It's the little things in life that amuse me and give me reasons to continue my odd and irratic behavor. I live for this stuff.



I sometimes to surveys for a research company, it's kind of a thing alot of people do now and then. They pay you a bit of money and in addition you get to feel like you're opinion matters. That's not the reason why I do it however, I do it because they swear you to secrecy.


Muhaha.


I can't help it, it's just kewl. I know it's only because they don't want another company to get wind of their products, but I like to think it's more romantic then that. (Yeah, slap me, but you can't blame me! I bet you do the same thing.) I feel like I should dress in a ninja suit and hire some composer someplace to write me my own theme song when I fill these things out. My most recent survey on a product I can't disclose, has now turned into a test of said product-I-can't-disclose. With it was a letter telling me not to tell anyone about it at all.


Wonder though, if I do let it slip, are there a platoon of highly armed (highly cute?) men waiting to break thorugh the doors and windows and arrest me?


Hmm.

The wedding went fine for them, for anyone who was interested. I'm very (VERY!) glad that it's all over with, one more stress out of the way. They're still on their honeymoon and won't be back till tomorrow sometime. Today is my last day of vacation (if you can call this that) and tomorrow I get to open and run the childcare all by my little lonesome. Lucky me. (Side note, state was here yesterday morning at 9 am on the dot, isn't that funny? They got turned away again because we're closed!)



My landladies daughter came over this morning wanting money, (I had told my landlady at the wedding reception that I had SOME for her) and when I gave it to her, she came back wanting to know where the rest was. When I told her that the agreement is between be and my landlady (Meaning: What is it any of your business, so don't try and bully me) she backed off and got really nice. She said the family is worried because of the landladies health, and because my neighboors planning on moving and all this. (Well my neighbor is her daughter, she must not be TOO worried about what will happen because she's moving. Not that she should stagnate her life because of the building, but don't guilt me because of it, that's just silly.) I'm doing the best I possibly can with what I've got, which is nothing.


So, today I'm going to tell my houseguest to move because I can't afford him there, and I'm going to see if I can borrow money for rent (which technicly isn't due till the 15th anyway) because I don't have it, and probably won't for another three weeks. (Then it'll probably only be 300 bucks...all I've been paid the last three months has been about 400 bucks, I can't live on this.)


However, unless I get the money or find someone I don't mind living with to move in soon, it's looking like I'm going to be without a place to live, and lucky me, I've got nowhere else to go!


I'm sick of this crap.

I love fireworks.


Other people around me just don't understand my attraction to things that spew sparks and make loud noises. But how could you not like things that blow up?


So, yesterday marked another 4th of July in the big book of Life Holidays. I had a pretty good day, I spent most of the day just hanging out, then I went up to Mt. Angel to watch their fireworks show, which was pretty dang good for such a small community. It was about 45 minutes long. (Yay! 45 minutes of booms!) The place was packed with people sitting on the ground and lighting personal fireworks, and if you squinted just right it looked like a warzone. Bodies littering the ground, big booms of guns and a stinky haze of greyish green smoke everywhere you look.


I love the 4th.


Then I came back, and came over to Robin's and lit some fireworks off with John. I always have a huge stash, so I didn't have to buy any this year, and I even have more left over. Yay. Next year I'm buying some though, because I saw a few I really liked that I don't currently have in my pyro lovers collection.


That strange green cloud followed me home, it was like 'Stephen King's The Mist' but in patriotic colors. I went home at 3 am, and the entire neighborhood in every direction was still covered with this knee high swamp like mist that smelled faintly of sulpher, and in every direction you could see and hear boombs and crackles from other enlightened peoples fireworks.


How could you not like fireworks?


Today the check finally came, so I have to go run around downtown and buy stuff for Sunday, then I have to come back and finish the bookmarks. I can't put it off forever, unless of course I get hit by a car and go flying through some plate glass window and die twitching in a trench.


One can only hope.

I smell like burnt flowers!




It's not that attractive. I could sell it as a new parfum (snort) ode to crisp flowers. It'll attract guys from miles around.


Right.

I've spent most of the morning drying flowers in a nifty microwave flower dryer for Wedding favors, unfortunatly the fun was cut short when we found out that certain kinds of flowers burn.



Woo baby.



So now the kitchen stinks something awful, and I have to make a trip downtown to try and find the padding to recreate the stuff from the dryer (tight cotton and thick felt) in the fabric store so we don't have to buy it. (It's cheaper to make our own, then buy extras.)



We did, however, get a good 400 flowers done, so we'll have more then enough and some left over. (I want to make candles and soaps, and these will come in handy when I do.) Yay, they come out really pretty too...maybe I'll make some paper and put some of those flowers to good use.



I also have to do a whole other slue of stuff this week, and I'm already frazzed. I've got to go with everyone to get my hair and nails done and get my ears repeirced. I've got to go pick up a second ID, I've got all this food to make, I have to buy decorations still, I've got to do the wedding music, I've got to make ice rings, and do the favors of course, I've got to make mints (I got some cute molds for them yesterday), I've got to pick up cameras, find a video camera to borrow and someone to run the video camera, get the flowers for the arrangements, make the centerpeices, I've got to figure out extra parking, and find someone to direct parking, I've got to write a speech.........................................................a speech! AAAAAHG!




sigh. And to think..I enjoy this stuff.



Anyway, if I don't post often (pppft) this week, it's because I've finally fried my last brain cell and I'm now currently wandering around downtown dancing with my pretty pink tutu on like the graceful little ballerina I am.

(According to Mr.Rogers, everybody is fancy everybody is fine, your body is fancy and so is mine. I feel so, warm and fuzzly.)

Oohoo..add bad bottle of brand new apple juice to todays list of 'isn't this fun's.

Damnit, I wanted that juice.

I'm tired. I've already smoothed over tragities (including a very heartbreaking death of a pregnant cat), painted faces, made snacks, cleaned, fed lunch and took the kids outside and it's only noon.

I'm tired and it's hot.

I'm still expecting a visit from the state, I've got to go pick up a second ID, buy decorations, price more food (Yuck, too hot for food), go through my leftover fireworks (I always buy tons) so I can see if we need more for the 4th (Which is also my youngest brothers birthday) and go price them, finish planning the wedding music and put the CDs together and finish two layouts today.

I got an idea, how about I nap, and you do it for me?

I came back to post a second time, but forgot what it was I was going to say.

Wait! I remember.

Today I'm doing wedding music, and since I can't get any help, I'm on my own compiling a couple of CD's of music. I need suggestions. Anyone got any?

(Even though I'm doing all this work and no one helps, or gives suggestions, or they tell me to 'take care of it, we trust your judgement' when I ask a question. Someone actually had the gall to say (teasingly?) that to remember it's not my wedding. You know what I have to say to that? Fine, you do it. ::mutter:: I'll be damn glad when this mess is over.)

I'm worth exactly: $2,536,936.00. according to 'Human For Sale'. Now I know the exact amount I should hock myself for if I'm ever down and out. It's a wonderful feeling.

I actually kind of had fun.


Last night I attended another one of the stupid PCL (PDL?) classes. Basicly, these classes are to bore the life out of providers until the last spark of defiance is gone. They say they're to prompt higher learning in childcare providers. That's a crock, I already know all the stuff they 'teach'. But, ok.


The class was three hours long, but stretched into almost four. Outside Activites. When we first got there we had to sign in (So they know who's there and what name to put on your certificate...yes, you get a certificate, but it dosen't make up for the classes!) and then wear name tags. (Ew, I don't look good in a name tag...but then they told me to put my clothes back on, and it was a little better.) Then after a bref intro (And being offended a couple times...I paid for the class, it's not like I just showed up. The lady who was running it made a few comments about if you don't participate you won't get your certificate, and blah blah. She even added 'Understand?' a couple times! I wanted to stand up, salute and scream "Yes, Ma'am".) we got split into groups (Another thing, if I've paid for it, why can't I work with who I WANT to work with?) by giving everyone a number. I actually was lucky, I got placed with a group of four other people whom I've taken a couple classes with that were just hysterical to work with. Then, we got herded outside (erm, bad wording perhaps) to do some outside activites. Who would have known right?


There were six 'stations' set up. We had to go to each station, do the activity, and write down some notes on the Physical, Social, Language, Cognitive and Emotional aspects of each activity. (The class centered around the point that children learn differently outside, but still learn in the five.) Then we had to present them to the class later. (I didn't pay for public speaking man! If I'd wanted to do that I'd join Toastmasters!) We decided to split the five between us, mine was social. Something I'm never quite sure if I have a grip on.


The first station our group went to was covered with Jello and Balloons. We had to rub the balloons (ahem) on our heads and then hold them over the jello (poured on a plate) to see what the reaction was. It was actually really neat, although we made a huge mess with the jello. The second station was one where we had to make, basicly, gack. Yes, I made it, and I kept it. Because slimey nasty icky things are kewl.


The third station was the funnest. We had to make ice cream balls. We took a zip lock bag, put cream milk and sugar in it, and closed it up. Put it in another bag, inside another bag, inside another bag and filled the last bag with ice and rock salt. Then we rapped it in newspaper and duct taped it shut. We spent the rest of the class throwing it at (lol) each other and tossing it into the air. (I'm happy to say, the ice cream turned out ok...if you didn't eat the stuff that escaped the first bag, that stuff tasted like salt.)


The four station was paint, they taped a sheet to the wall and we got to throw sponges and stuff at the sheet. That turned into us trying to hit each other to get back at who-hit-who with the ice cream package at the last station. I love being silly. Someone missed at got paint all over a window. No, it wasn't me.


The fifth station was filling film canisters with alkaseltzer and water, putting the lid on and waiting for them to 'pop'. There were different types of canisters and lids to try. Our first try didn't work, but our second and third flew a good 20 feet in the air and made a loud pop. (Which made us jump, because we were sure they were duds.) The fourth didn't work, we were sad. Very, very sad. By now the ice cream package was cold, very very cold.


The sixth and last station was making stepping stones from cement (which I made a hand print in, later took home and filled the hand print with multi-colored glass chips, now I'm getting sealer to seal it. Gonna put it in my flower bed.) that was fun, but messy. My hands are still kind of sore and funky from the cement. They didn't like it.


Then we went back inside and talked about each station and their relation to development of the five, then we had to write our own outdoor activity (ours was an obstical course) then we had ice cream. (Yay for ice cream!)


All in all, I had alot of fun just goofing around with the group I was in. That made the class worth going to, becides a wonderful recipie for gack, and a kewl way to make ice cream, I didn't learn much else new.


I'm glad I went anyway.


Happy Birthday to Mackinzie! She's two, so she dosen't read this (or anything at all, for that matter). She's one of our clients, so I'm going to go paint faces and make cupcakes for after lunch. Woohoo.

You know what? Make a Wish foundation said that they don't endorse online activites so we can't use them as our charity for TPC.

Their loss, says I!


So today we have to pick a different charity that we can use. We've already got sponsors, so I'm hoping something awful that they don't mind.

On the up side, by the end of today IBOM will be signed up for the blogathon and I will reveal my amazing 2002 gimmic. (Even though most everyone already knows what I'm doing.)

I get off work early tonight. Thank you lord. 5:30, just in time to book my sorry butt downtown.

I have a meeting with the Revs who are preforming the ceremony on the 7th, the bride and groom, and the other person planning the wedding who is being semi-unresponsible lately. (I love her anyway though.) I have to ask them (the Revs) if it's ok if I rope off the parking lot, set up tables and decorate all over, and generally make a mess on their grounds. I hope they say yes, I'm always looking for an exscuse to make a mess in church.

I also get off work early tomorrow, but it's not for anything nearly as fun as wedding crap. I have another icky PDL class, I can't even remember what this one will be on. Goodie, it'll be like a suprise inside of a thrilling trip. I can't wait.

You're damn right I am. Got a problem with it?

What can I say? It was cute.

I went shopping (well, pricing to be honest) yesterday for decoration supplies for the wedding. I found the exact wedding colors (Lavender, Buttercup, and Mint. Don't laugh, I thought it was clever.) in everything I'm going to need. I was stoked, I would have danced all over the party supply place if there hadn't been other people there who would have signed the paper to have me taken away.



So next week when I get paid and after I take care of the monumental finantal problems I'm having, I'm going to go buy decorations. I love decorating, in fact I've often thought of opening some kind of party planning business just so I could legitimately fondle peoples' crepe paper.

I've always wondered something. (Bare with me here, I'm going to verbal vomit some nonsense on you for a bit.) Well, I'm always wondering something; but this is a something I've been wondering for always. With me so far? Good.


I'm sure, you being the type of person who notices these things that you are, you've wondered this same thing at one point in your life. Probably when you hit 15 or 16 and hit the short-lived phase in which you decided cartoons were for babies. It probably dawned on you, one rainy Monday morning listening to some underpaid Math teacher with her hair pulled back to tight lecture on the importance of equal sided quadraparallellograms, that cartoons that have the main characters as talking animals (Arthur, anything by Richard Scarry, ect.) have pets.


What are these pets? I often wonder in sheer bordom induced fear. Are they slaves to the speaking animals? Did they cause some horrible scandle in a past decade that forced them to forever be plauged with the role of a pet's pet? Are they evolutionary throwbacks? Do they just not know any better? Are they a bit slow? Maybe they used to ride the short wheel during hamster school.


Why would someone give one set of animals the ability to talk, have well dressed families, drive apple cars - yet force another set to live as lowly pets? What did these pet's ever do to deseve this? Did they accidently pee on the hydrant when they were shopping for a new top hat, and the punishment is to be the new puppy for the ardvark family down the street?


I am baffled.


Worse yet, sometimes - and the sheer revolting horror of this keeps me awake on long winter nights cowering under my K-mart bedspread - sometimes the pigs in the Richard Scarry books eat pork.


No, No. It's just too much. I can't take it.

Well, it's time once again to sign up for everyones FAVORITE blog activity, the Blogathon.



The Blogathon, for those who don't know, is a 24 hour posty thon in which we post every 30 minutes for 24 hours to our blogs and raise money for our charities for each hour we make the mark. (So ta speak.)


Yes, I'm proud to say I will be participating again this year (Along with some awesome people who did it last year!), I haven't signed up quite yet because I'm waiting for some information on the details I'm trying to work out with Habitat For Humanity the charity I'm donating to. I'm trying to see if the Salem Affiliate can use the money I raise to set up scholorships for a group in the area to go to Mexico and build houses. So I can't sign up quite yet until this is all worked out.


I'm also (because I'm insane) doing the blogathon with my wonderful group blog The Pervert Club. We'll be posting all sorts of nonsense, giving out prizes, and having a grand old time earing money for Make A Wish Foundation. This means, however, that I'll be posting in two blogs throught the entire night, plus IBOM's (this blog, silly) 'gimmic' which I'll announce right after I sign up for the `Thon.


Trust me, it'll be a good one.


So, please please please sponsor IBOM or TPC in this blogathon. We only need a little from everyone, and it would mean so much to me, and the people we're raising money for.


And I'd love you forever.

I'm not getting married, to clear that up. (I didn't mean to set a couple people to contact me in a panic...honest I didn't. Ahem.) My mother is (Getting married, that is), I'm just planning it. (All of it! And I'm not even getting paid! Watch, she'll want a present too.) I'm actually very honored that she asked not only my help in pulling this shabang off, but to be in it as well.

She's either really desperate, or she loves me.

Poor her, either way. ;)


BTW: Congrats to Cat!

Yesterday was offically the offical first offical day of offical summer. According to me, anyway. Yesterday was the first day all kids in the county were out of school, yesterday was the first day I walked around all day without shoes, and yesterday was the first day it hit over 90 here.


Damn heat.

Today it's supposed to hit over 100. Over 100 and I work in a childcare that dosen't have air conditioning.

Sometimes, I hate my job so much. ::grin::

The Wedding is only 24 days away, and as much as I'd like to lie and say I've got it all done I can't. I'd go to hell. I have to tell the truth: We're not ready. Since I'm the one planning, buying, decorating, cooking, even. I'm the one dripping slowly to that point where something pops in your brain and you spend the rest of your days in the corner with drool streaming down your chin and babbling aimlessly to the dust bunnies that you are the one true Christ.

I love pressure.

Ninja Burger



::giggle::

I'm lazy and should be flogged. I'll post more in the near future, I've just been busy and slightly crappy, so I figured I'd rather not spred it around, and I'd post when I'm in a better mood. Well, I'm sort of in a better mood now, but I've got nothing of substance to say. (Yes, I know that's pretty normal)


Happy 1st Birthday to Tainted Epitome, everyone go give the birthday blog some good birthday wishes. Show Olivia you love her. (Cause, you do, you know.)


I'm thinking of changing this blogs layout (It's about time, actually) and there for I justify not posting as thus:


"I'd hate to add more posts to the layout I have, when I'm just going to change it soon."


Pathetic, but it's the only thing I could come up with.

Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday dear Kelllllly, Happy Birthday to you!


I hope that you have the best birthday ever. Love you hon!

What's the world record for the most books read in one day? Maybe I'll look into beating it. I had something more eloquent and clever I was going to say here, but I'll say it later. :)

We fed the duckies yesterday, took the kids there and then over to another park and ran them ragged. They slept for four hours yesterday afternoon. (Yay!) Ran me ragged too though, I was so tired I fell asleep when it was still light out last night. Pathetic, really. Today we have a BBQ at another providers house, but not sure if we're still doing it. Tomorrow I'm taking the kids to the Iris Festival parade, goodie. Nothing I like more then sitting in the hot sun watching hokey floats and getting candy thrown at my head. ;)

I had a interesting weekend. On Saturday my younger brother got to go fly an plane..which scared the bejesus out of me. He can't even ride his skateboard with out bumping into someones shins, imagine the damage he could do with a plane. (Yeah, ok...what kind of sister am I?) He had a blast though, he's eight, and they took him up for 20 minutes and let him fly and everything. It was good for him...and good for me, I didn't have to go watch.


I did however, have to cover in the childcare while everyone was gone, but it was no big deal...the kids (all three of them) were actually pretty decent for once. (They're making up for it today).


Then I went to the Saturday Market...which is always good for finding cute homemade wares that I kick myself for not bringing money to buy. I wandered around and smelled all the flowers, and oohed over all the pretty pretties, and had a pretty good time. It was a wonderful day, about 65ish and sunny, so it was perfect Saturday Market weather.


Watched some guys tap dance, tried peruvian food (Which I've never had before, it was interesting. Not interesting-I-didn't-like-it interesting, but interesting-interesting. I had um...what did I have? I don't remember...it was chicken wrapped in this cornmeal type ball and cooked in a plantation leaf, fried plantains (Which I have had before, and don't know if I care for even after all this time. They're too corny tasting to make me think of Bananas, which I hate, and to banana tasting to make me offically put the like stamp on them.) and a cabbage type salad. It was pretty good....corny...spicey..gave me heartburn...I'd eat it again.), ran into some people I knew, got some kettle corn, and got stung in the face by a bee.


The last one wasn't exactly a highlight...but I had to throw it in for fun. It didn't hurt, the side of my face felt kind of funky the rest of the day, but it was no big deal. (Well...don't tell anyone, but in a secret dark corner of my little heart..I hope that bee flew off and landed all out of breath on the pavement and got squashed under the sole of somebodies tennie. Just...don't tell anyone I said that.)


On Saturday night OPIT was supposed to have an investigation but it didn't happen because of a medical emergency (Robin has a bad mouth and it was hurting her), so we'll have to reschedual it. I was bummed, it would have been a perfect night...but there is always next week.


Yesterday, I came over and Robin wasn't feeling any better so I gave her her mommies day present (A mothers necklace that was really cute..the only one I could find that didn't make me feel like my other had morphed into that gaudy pink haired lady from TBN) and went home and watched some movies, finished Gone with the Wind (I've never read it or seen the movie, so I decided I might as well...incase anyone cares...I didn't like it.) and ended up spending five hours in the Emergency Room trying to entertain poor Robin.


Just the way she wanted to spend her Mothers day too, dream come true.


While in the ER, I watched everyone (I watch people...but not in that creepy stalker way, I watch them because real people make the best characters. Plus, people do such amusing tricks. I wonder if they'll let me come and sit in the ER with a laptop and write character profiles.) I've decided a few things:



1. The ER sucks. Maybe not yours, but Salem Hospitals does. They're rude, inconciterate, and rude. (Did I mention rude?) They're the only hospital I've ever found who has the irrationality to ask a patiant who's in pain 'what do you want us to do about it?' Well shit, I don't know...didn't you go to medical school?


2. People bring their kids to the ER like it'll be some fun play date for them. I don't know why, I'm someones kid and the last place I'd want to play is the ER. Maybe I'm just some kind of throwback.


3. If you've broken your arm in three places, including your elbow, and your boyfriend is at home drinking your beer with another girl and refuses to come sit with you. You should dump him. (I'll tell this story another time, honest.)


4. Next time I'm in the hospital, I'm going to order pizza and see if they'll deliver to the waiting room. They deliver to the overnight rooms..why not the ER waiting room too?


5. I will never install cupboards into a room that have locks on the cupboard door, and lock them, so no one can steal anything, when the cupboard door has a huge hole in it for you to put stuff through. It defeats the purpose.


6. Just because the vending machine is in a hospital, dosen't mean the vending machine is sanitary.


Robin, is much better now, by the way. They gave her some meds and some other meds to knock out any infection and she's going to go see a dentist soon. One good thing did come out of the boring stay at the ER becides Robin being better, I came up with a good book idea...

Since the state has done everything in their power to keep this (and other incidents and things) out of the media, I'll report it.



A few weeks back a woman in Linclon City was attacked at her Home Childcare by a non custodial parent on drugs trying to steal the child. The woman did everything she could to keep this parent from entering the home, and in the process was horribly beaten. The 911 tape clearly has the non-costodial parent screaming 'Where are your knives bitch, I'm going to cut you up.'


A week later, insted of assisting her, the State of Oregon Childcare Division closed her childcare and fined her stating that she promoted a potentaly hazardus enviorment for children.


First, let me say that my personal opinion on this is once again the state has failed the childcare profession. The State of Oregon CCD spreds lies, runs a disorganized and irrational system, and promotes basicly, filth, to the general public to keep Childcare in a bad light. Insted of fixing the problem, they do everything they can to force the professionals in this business to quit so that the state can completely regulate state institutions that will be used for childcare.


Secondly, I'm tired of the media sucking up the state/parent side insted of talking to the people who actually do this job.

"It's too expensive", "We don't get good care", "They're all abusive", "If they ask for money, they're not good childcare providers!".

I'm tired of Time and Parent and all these other magazines and papers reporting that we're just a bunch of people who are responsible for the anger in young children and don't do good jobs.


They report the lone woman who was arrested for abandoning her childcare children, and ignore the woman who was closed by the state because her neighbor had a pool, or the dozens of woman who are physicly and verbally assaulted every year by clients who don't wish to pay their bill, or parents who don't have custody of the children. In the six years we've been in this area, I have been listed on over a dozen different restraining orders as a person to protect, and none of them were filed by me. I've been verbally assaulted by drunks, drug addicts, and physicly abusive men, and every single one of them were parents of a child in our care, and every single one got away with it because the state wants to 'protect the parents'. Yet, they got to turn around and report me with false claims to the state, and the state deems me the bad guy.

I've watched parents come to blows in our driveway over drugs, I've seen parents beat their children, I've seen blantant neglect and abuse, and not a single thing was done.


Why? Because the state has admited to me, that 'until they kill them, we won't do anything. But we'll come after you, because it looks like we are doing something'.


Oh joy, lord how I do love my job.


Now, please don't cringe and say you'll never move to Oregon. This is everywhere in the US. In fact, Oregon is one of the better states. It's a nationwide problem that's recieving nothing but cover ups and deaf ears. We're just Babysitters right? It's not a real job. I take care of your kids, I've got the most important job in the world.

Anyone else think it sad that 99% of the US population don't view their childrens care as important? Their children aren't people, their children are things they own. They don't want thier children, they could care less.


Think I'm being extreme? Nope, it's how it is...come to my job for a month. You'll see.


Ahha..I didn't think so. It's amusing to me, how everyone who bitches about us, wouldn't do this job. Who would? We only get 72 cents an hour.


There are, as in every profession, people who shouldn't be doing this because they're not good for the children. But, there is no reason that the garbage that goes on in this profession should continue any longer. No one out there but childcare providers know the truth about what's going on in this business. The public would be outraged if they knew the truth, that's why the state has laws like the federal one 'it's illegal to talk to any other childcare provider'. Did you know that? Yep..we can go to federal prision if we speak to another person who does childcare. Oh, exept, of course, in the state ran support groups.


I want to fix it, but I want out more...is that bad of me?

I'm bored. (Yeah yeah, "only boring people are boring". Well then chippy, that just makes me boring then too don' it? Goodie. Let me know when I start to make you fall asleep....hm...you think that's why people become hypnotists? Because they're boring and they can get people to fall asleep quick? Maybe that's what I should do. You are getting sleeepy....sleeeEEeeEpy...)

Ahem, I want to play a game. I'm currently taking your suggestions for a game. They have to fall into one of the catagories below:


* Horror

* Puzzle

* Horror/Puzzle


Yeah, really hard right? I have played almost every single horror/puzzle game out there...so let's see if someone can come up with one I haven't yet.

By request...





Still, one of the most amusing things I've seen around my town in a long time.

My war on food isn't getting better, it's getting worse. Becides the fact that people are using it against me to manipulate me. (IE: If you don't finish your lunch, I'll never play cribbage with you again. If you don't eat dinner, I'm going to tell everyone you stalked a Costco employee. If you don't eat tomorrow, I'm telling everyone you're really Jimmy Hoffa. See, evil people.) And becides the fact that it hurts like some granny smacking you upside the tummy with her cane, it's starting to take upon new symptoms that are really very uncomfortable.



I ate yesterday for the first time in two days, and shortly after eating (Applesauce, cottage cheese and an english muffin..sans butter because I don't eat butter) I was dragged to Costco. (Well, not dragged...driven...Costco, for those of you who don't know, is like a warehouse place where you can buy stuff in bulk, you have to be part of/own a company that has a membership there to get a card...well, you used to anyway.)

While walking through Costco I was suddenly taken over by the wonderful feeling of nausea. In fact, it was mostly the feeling you get before you get to revisit your last meal, but without the whole throwing up part. So, I wandered around Costco having a plesant little coversation with mysef....



You can't throw up in Costco you know.


I know I can't...I'm not going to, will you please stop looking at the meat? You're not helping you know.


It's just meat, would you rather I take a peek at what the sample ladies are giving out? I never realized Coscto smelled so much like food. We should buy some muffins, how about a chicken? They bake them here, so you can eat it right away...hey, you know..you don't look so good. Are you going to throw up? You can't throw up in Costco you know.


I'm not going to throw up. Please stop it...let's go look at books.

You're standing in meat section. How would that look if you threw up all over the Chuck Roast? Everyone else would start throwing up, on the Turkey, the Ham...even on the Chicken. Lord knows the Chicken never did anything to you to merit that kind of treatment. Poor Costco, the headlines would scream about this whole fiasco, they'd lose millions. Costco would never let you back in. They'd sue.


Will you please stop saying that?


Stop saying what? How about something frozen? We'll pop it in the oven when we get home. You can't throw up here either, no one wants to look at the butter case with puke in front of it. Ooo! More samples!


Throw up! Stop saying throw up! How can I not throw up when every two seconds you're saying throw up? Will you go away? I don't feel good, and don't you dare go over to the sample lady.


Well, fine. Geehsh, I was just asking because I care. You don't have to get all angry with me. I'll go away if you want me to...but first...how about a sample?


Will you just please shut up!?


But...it's Ravioli. I thought you liked Ravioli? You know, you don't look so good. You're not going to throw up are you? You can't throw up in Costco you know.


AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRGH!

Just when you think you've seen everything in this wide world of ours, you're confronted with something so horrifying, so not right that it makes you question the very moral fabric of society.


I'm not talking about politics, religion, or war...I'm talking about pre-cooked vaccum sealed bacon that dosen't have to be refrigerated. That's right, a product that you've always told must be refrigerated and fully cooked before you eat it so the threat of worms, food posining and other not so fun things is abolished, isn't so anymore.



I was walking through my local friendly neighborhood Costco, minding my own business and enjoying being out slacking for a little bit. Making my way down the isle, I spied it. Dark and greasy tucked between the Spam and the Hormel Chili....Always Crisp (I think?) Pre-Cooked Bacon.


"Why is it not refrigerated?" I yelled in complete horror. A package of six single serving pacakges, splotted with grease and looking horribly heart-attackesk like only the best bacon can. "It's not normal!" I shuddered in terror and moved my cart along as fast as I could to the next, more safer isle that included mundane things like tea and crackers. The type of things that belong on a dark kitchen shelf.


Sometimes, the world really scares me.

Food is a savage, unforgiving beast.



It's true. I haven't eaten in two-going-on-three days. (Don't ask me how going-on works, it's not on any calander, but it's there just the same.) Part of the reason is because it really does hurt when I eat, and the other part is because I'm just a huge yellow bellied (well, pale crayola peach colored belly, but it dosen't sound as smooth when you say it that way) chicken. Actually, I've been shunned by yellow bellied chickens everywhere. I think I now fall into the catagory of yellow bellied skittish housecat on Meth.



You can just call me The Gutless Wonder. (Striking fear into the heart of no one but herself!) It's my sad, sad, only claim to fame.



Anyway, that's beside the point...kind of. I know I should eat, because vast numbers of starving people throught the world have pretty much given solid proof to the theory that we've got to eat to survive. On the other hand, I've got the pain tolerance of a pansy and deep down inside I'm pathetic.



The choices ones forced to make when one has a tummy that should be returned for a full refund.

I just realized (shock, horror, gasp) that I completely missed the Aniversary of IBOM. (Pronouced, ironicly, "I Bomb". Because face it, I do.) Also known as Incoherent Babbilings, also known as this blog your cute little eyes are gracing right now.


I've been here for 1 year, 1 month, 6 days, 7 hours, and 24 minutes. (Give or take). I'm not planning on going anywhere either.


Poor you.

Weird searches that turn up my blog continue with "I love to wear diapers".


I don't, actually...ah..sorry? I don't get why anyone would want to wear diapers. I can't wait for kids to stop wearing diapers. Changing them in no way appeals to me, least of all sexually. I've heard, and no offense to anyone, that thearapy can help these things....

The ants are back.



Worse this time though, they're red ants. I went over to my house today to pick up a minitape for someone, and my entire front of the house was covered in red ants.



Yeah, I about died. It's not that easy to gross me out (I watch kids for a living, for gosh sakes) but ants (and spiders) can do it really quick. So, I gathered up my posse, and arming ourselves with spray that smells suspisiously like head lice shampoo (Another thing that makes me shudder), we met them varmits in a showdown. It was a grueling fight, and we lost a few of our brave people in the battle (They bite, oh...and did you know how fast people run when they land in their hair?) but in the end we were tired, disgusted, bitten and bruised, but we won.


Death to the ants!


I think we won anyway...I'm kind of too chicken to go back home and check.

The continuing adventures of Jamie's House of Bumps....literally.

So, while I'm signing a client up for web hosting, so I can put myself at the mercy of another slave driver. I thought I'd post on the continuing fun happenings at my house during the wee hours of the morning when everyone (including the damn dead) should be sleeping.

SLEEPING! But do you think they let me sleep? No, of course not, because it's soooo much more fun to keep me awake. Nope, insted of letting me sleep, I got about four hours worth of footsteps, banging, scratching and knocking on my wall and closet door in my bedroom, talking and someone going through my house and knocking things off the shelves, pushing things off the tables and knocking boxes in the back room over. They also pushed over all the stuff I had leaning against the wall in the garage, too.

Nice, wasn't it?

Damn dead people...look up eviction services for the dearly departed ok? I want some sleep.

Oh, and "thank you thank you thank you" to James who's been a total dearheart in helping me with this damn domain thing and listening to me whine and cry like the big baby I am.

Thank you. :)

Don't use 7thgate.com as a host. They're bad.

Just don't do it, they're bad. At least, that's my personal opinion of it. I first used them all the way back in 1998 to register kiddlets.com and have it hosted. For the first year they were great, but they changed management or owners or whatever and it just totally went down hill. They're technical contacts would leave, and they'd never give an account a new one, which means any changes to the domain couldn't be made because that contact didn't exsist anymore. It went almost TWO YEARS before I finally managed to get them to give me a new technical contact. Not only that, but they told me I didn't have any other domains hosted with them, and I do. Sorry, but to me that proves you have no idea whats going on in your company.

Then, they messed up on another domain I had hosted with them, and shut my account down, then charged me for the hosting anyway. I said fine, and I'd pay it, but they NEVER SENT ME THE TOTAL!

Now, eight months trying to get my domain released to me to move it to a new host, 16 letters, two phone calls, and 3 letters from other parties later I finally get a snobby letter back saying I only contacted them three times and it was only because they demanded payment.

Jerks.

At least the company they registered my domain with was nicer, they gave me all the options to have the domain transfered back so I could have access to it. I'm going to work on that this week, hopefully get it transfered because I'm paying hosting on ANOTHER host for the domain and the domain isn't even there!

Also, I paid for another domain and the check was cashed, and they guy hasn't transfered it to me yet. I don't want to be a pain about it, but I paid for it. It should have been done the day he cashed the check.

Just my opinion, of course.

I'm so sick and tired of people saying I'm a bad provider. (Deep breath) Ok, all better. Thanks Kelly, for listening to my verbal vomit, you're such a great friend. Oh..Kel got a new domain too! So go over and look before she gets it all moved so she gets all comfortalated with me and beats me up...::winks:: I gotta get my shots in before the Blogathon, because from the looks of it..she's plotting to blow me out of the water this year. (Them's fightin' words woman!) ;)

Speaking of the blogathon, I am planning on doing it this year, but I'm not sure what blog is going to be in it (this one, or if TPC is going to do the blog thing) or what exactly my stunt is going to be, although I do have a VERY good idea. It involves O.P.I.T, but that's all you get to know. (Notice a theme? Yeah..so? lol I'm not very creative)

Speaking of O.P.I.T (So we're not speaking, and it's the second time I've opened a paragraph with that. I told you, I'm not very creative) I've been working my buns off on O.P.I.T (Between paying clients) and I'm happy to say the Oregon Paranormal Investigation Team Team Procedures & Handbook (Version 1.0) is almost completed. I've also got the ID cards completed (sans laminating and photographs, so I guess that's almost completed) for the members. I'm so thrilled! :)

Eh..never did get to go on the investigation. Maybe sometime soon? Who knows. Too much other stuff going on, I probably won't find time until stuff calms down. I have been working on OPIT's stuff though. I've gotten all the ID cards (sans peoples pictures) done, and most of the handbook.

I had another one of my attacks or whatever you want to call them on Sunday night, so I haven't been feeling well at all. Stupid food. Who needs it anyway?

Well, if we go on our OPIT investigation thing (in a local school) tonight should be decided within the next four hours, so I will keep everyone up to date. If we don't go tonight we will go tomorrow night, so either way, right? I am going to be setting up a cam in one hall of the school so if anyone would like to watch it they can. I'm going to spend the next couple hours working on the OPIT blog page so I can keep everyone up to date on the investigations and what not.

Do you love me or what?

I'm so avoiding working on this..I know it won't get done if I don't do it, but damn..I don't wanna! So, I think insted I'll make a blog entry, and run to the store...and...

It's so beautiful out, I even did something productive. I cleaned out my garage. (Wowee right?) Last summer, for those who don't know, (What? Who cares if you don't want to know. Be quiet.) my Grandma's water heater broke and flooded her sewing room, she then stored a huge amount of her sewing stuff in my garage. Yip, right? Then it became three or four other peoples dropping grounds for 'stuff I just don't have room for right now so can you keep it here for me?'. So, I cleaned up all the stuff that was my junk, and everyone else gets to get their stuff out of my house.

Speaking of people and their stuff, Robin is using my dryer cause hers broke, and other people have been packing it over for her, and they've trashed my house! AAAAAAAAAAARRRRH! I'm not home enough to clean up after other people, dangit. (I found a pair of John's undies on my front porch today..it's not exactly my idea of a outside decoration.) Oh well...

Anyhow, tomorrow is Friday (Thank you Je-sus) and I'm hoping (so far so good) that OPIT is still doing the long-nighter at one of our haunts.(pun? what pun?) I will do my best as a friend, paranormal investigator and cool ghostie girl to take along the laptop and a digital camera so people can pop in and maybe watch some live stream action. (No, not that kind of action. The disembodied kind.)

We'll see how that goes. I'm going to finish up some work here and head home while it's still light and move my damned furniature into my guestroom. You know, so my illicit one night stands have someplace to sleep other then the floor.

We agreed, for some reason I'll leave up to a temporary bout of insanity, to do a childcare craft fair that's going on in the middle of this month. Basicly it's run at the same time as the AgFest, at the fairgrounds, and it's all these childcare providers who get together, have tables, and offer crafts to kids while they advertise their business.

For ten hours.

Lordie. So, I designed an eight page coloring book that we're going to offer, along with crayons. (You get a coloring book and a box of eight crayons. I can get five boxes of eight for a buck at the dollar store.) The lady who organizes this said we have to shot for about 200, so we're making 220 coloring books, all of which have to be stapled and folded by....me.

Ahhh...how I love this slave labor.

My comment system is down. Hopefully it'll be back up soon. ::pouts:: On a happy note, it's almost 6 and I'm going home!!! While it's still sunny out, amazing. (Thank you Je-sus) I'm going to go work on my guest room, so I can get the bed that's in my living room for it in there. Fun hu? Yup! :) What color should I paint it in there...any ideas? How about wallpaper? Curtains? Rugs? Hmm...



Oh, and Kins, since we're speaking through my blog these days - I couldn't call you because the phone was occupied and I can't call LD from home because I am sans a phone card. So, CALL ME, ok? If you can, that is..otherwise I'll give you a ring before you go to work tomorrow. (Write me, damnit)

Working in a preschool has an equal share of evil demon spawn and cute 'awwws'. I decided since everyone knows they want to know, I'd share something from my current list. It's all because I lobe oo.

Cute Crap:

The stuff that makes you feel terrible for ever entertaining thoughts of tying them up in the closet.

Booboful -
A few days ago we took a couple of our kids out for breakfast at one of those local bland food resturants that give kids (why always kids? I want some too) crayons to color with. One of our kids did a picture completely in a lovely dog poo brown color and then asked me what I thought.

"It's beautiful." says I.

"YESH! BOOBOFUL!" She screamed at the top of her lungs, with this huge dimpled grin on her face and apple juice dripping down her chin. Leaning over, she threw a purple crayon at me. "Mimi, Yush crayon. Yush color too" Nodding, she beamed "Booboful."

After yesterdays egg hunt, which rounded out with a whopping one kid, (They're holding another one next week..because someone didn't announce it...it's not because everyone hates me and I tainted the Easter candy..honest) I ended up going to a little Easter thing at the river. (Which, I'd like to say, was very very pretty for the end of March.) It was pretty uneventful. Just sitting around in the nice spring sun enjoying the fact that I wasn't getting frantic phonecalls, didn't have any appointments, and no one wanted anything from me right now.

How come every day can't be like that?