Sunday Good

That's what today is. Got my Hallelujah Praise on at MY church, Inspiring Body of Christ Church. Choir had us all in the aisles. Pastor Rickie Rush's message had me thinking about what I "say" to God. Ya gotta speak it. Not just think it. Great day. I don't feel like headin' to work on Monday either. That might be one of those "speak" things I really need to pay attention to. On the terra cotta pot front, I actually tried a different technique called for a sponge to apply the acrylic paint. Imagine my surprise, when the directions called for a sea sponge and there really is a reason to actually use a sea sponge. Not the sponge I had on hand to clean the pots. Hmm. So yes, to buy a sea sponge is on my 'to do after work list' for Monday. Anyway, take a look at the cat. He's tellin' me to take it easy, cuz there's still some Sunday left to enjoy. The Blue Bell Tiramisu ice cream will indeed help!

Woo Hoo!

NO school work to do tonight! Got it ALL done at work today--!

Even some of my job too :)

Did I tell you I eyed a treadmill at Wal-mart the other day? GREAT price. Was in a box tho. So WHO puts it together? Until that mystery is solved, the treadmill stays in the box, in the store.

Hot again. 103 degrees F, with a heat index of 107--or was that 109--or really who cares? I put a pie pan of water for the birds in the back yard. It's cute to see them just stand in it. My backyard animals eat so much better than me--they need to get a job.

Last few days, as I've talked to folks, I've noticed they take quick look at my chest. I'm thinking, gee, are the bon-bons that over flowing? Then I remember, I've worn a shirt where some of my scar shows. Ya know, from that little open heart surgery adventure had back in '06. My scar got all thick and I've learned to deal with it. I know my scar makes some uneasy, yet I'm glad I've finally got to the point to let it hang all out. It does clash with stuff I wear sometimes, which is what ticks me--so I dust my scar with a little powder and off I go.

I recall a conversation about scars, with a non-physically scar'd chum. She made mention how some might wear their scar as a medal of honor instead of covering it. She had a vote for the covering it up. I responded how it IS my medal of honor, cuz if I didn't have it, I'd be dead about now.

And I ain't feelin' that.

So that note, I'm gonna end it for the day. Got me some FUN FICTION writing to do and Blue Bell Cookies n Cream Ice Cream to help shield from the heat!

It's ALL good--WOO HOO!

Monday Moan

....and no, Denzel Washington didn't knock on my door... ..

DRAT!

More like I put together our group paper for my college class. I admit I tried to get out of it, because I'd already done it before, plus this other team exercise we had to do. We all wrote our seperate parts and then it had to be put together in APA format--yep, that's I think to--APA, huh? The person who said she would do it, had a death in the family and the other teammate said she works until 4:30am, and besides she'd already done ONE. Whatever.

Then we had an online exam to take. 3 hours to take and it would time us, plus only one shot at it. So since I'm such a good student, I'd not read that much material. So open up another browser and do open book exam. Yep, my kinda exam...

Ya know where I'm going with this? Come question 9, as I looked up cross cultures in the workplace and its impact--I accidentally X'd me out of the exam

Done. Fini. OUT. I looked a big 0% for my score. There were 39 questions. I answered 9. I did leave a message for the instructor. It's 9:01pm as I type this. This class is officially over at 12:59AM. I start a new class tomorrow. The exam was worth 15 points. If I calculate it right, I could get a high C. Not what I wanted--but it taught me, I gotta really at least SKIM the material...

Oh and a cat barfed on the floor.

Moan, is right.

I'm on my way to watch my DVR of 'Dancing With the Stars' with a dab of Blue Bell Ice cream...

Ain't all bad.

Sunday Short

My oh my. The Dallas Cowboys lose to Green Bay today. I'm honest, there was about 5:48 in the game when Tony Romo was intercepted on the goal line. I switched over to my FiOS On Demand to watch the "Desperate Housewives" episode to get me caught up. The coming week on Dallas sports radio--I ain't gonna listen.

Both my teams lost this weekend. Iowa Hawkeyes start out 9-0 and are not destined for the Rose Bowl. And the Dallas Cowboys--my oh my, not happy am I.

I could go on and on--yes, I got my praise on today at Inspiring Body of Christ Church. As much as I've grown in a positive accustom to Pastor Rickie Rush-I have yet to join IBOC. Could be commitment to that church? My previous church home, of five years, I didn't join either--althought I was there every Sunday. Participated in ministries, including adult Sunday school. More prayer needed.

In the meantime, I'm sad about my teams. Both SHOULD have been victorious. I am heartsick, really. What mends a broken heart?

Blue Bell Ice Cream. And tonight Coffee flavored will heal all.

High Noon NOT

Recorded the Iowa Hawkeyes-Northwestern Wildcats game. Had things planned for the day (which was great by the way). I knew...KNEW Iowa would grind Northwestern into the turf. As I left the house, I had to sneek a peak ---the score just had to be 28-0 Iowa.

Imagine my surprise to see Iowa down by four at halftime! No problem, as I locked up the house--the Hawks would come on strong. 10-0 here we come! At the time, I didn't know QB Ricky Stanzi had been hurt.

So when I got home, got comfy and started to watch the game from halftime. I made sure I listened to nothing but music while driving my Pumpkin. I'd done this during a Cowboys game too, as it recorded while I away from home. So it could be done. I made guesses how high Iowa's score would be. Just knew my Hawks were 10-0!

On the couch, I sat. DVR'd thru commercials. Final score, Iowa 10 Northwestern 17. My heart broke at 7:29PM. The pitch black sky fit my mood.

Then I find out Ohio State beat Penn State.

I bet Rick Stanzi's ankle is fine by next Saturday.

Blue Bell Coffee flavored Ice Cream will help me heal--maybe I should send some to Ricky.

Stay tuned.

Go HAWKS!

Friday To The Point

It's Friday. Work Week Done.
Dreams.
Passions jump into hydro-drive just as quick as dishes pile in the sink.
Octo-mom's celebrity lasts just a minute. Prayers for her 14 angels last forever.
President Obama is not Moses. We all need to do our share.
Tiger Woods will be on the golf course again. Not much of a golf girl, yet this is special.
Blue Bell Coffe Ice cream in the freezer.
Cat ready to stake claim to the lap.
Young and the Restless ready to be watched...Sharon is SO dumb and when will it come out Mrs. C is really Mrs. C?
Friday--It's the Weekend.
Get to the point.
Cue the song.

Ice Cream Says it All

I love ice cream.

Folks who know me and/or read this blog know how much. Back in my hometown, being taken to Moxley's, the ce cream place, was what made my day. A strawberry sundae was my order just about every time. Not until I got so out into the world, like 40 minutes to Des Moines, did I learn there were 31 flavors to be had under one solitary roof. My cousins and I ordered champagne ice. We always if this would be the time we'd get a buzz from it. Hey, we were all under ten--imaginations ran wild.

So fast forward to today. A great sale at a supermarket named Kroger--- $2.99 for 1/2 gallon of Blue Bell Ice Cream. Blue Bell has not lowered their 1/2 gallon to the what seems common lower weight of 1.75 quart...what IS that anyway? Once I moved to Dallas, it took me awhile to get on the Blue Bell bandwagon. You see, I had such a big crush on a guy back home, who's folks ran our town's version of a Dairy Queen. There was no way I cheat on their establishment, even if it was 750 miles away.

Then my co-workers kept going on and on and ON about Blue Bell. Said it was the best. I needed to try it. So, it happened to be on sale. To be safe, I got vanilla. I mean, if the vanilla is messed up, it doesn't matter what flavor you have.

Vanilla wasn't a mess. It was quite 'nilla-tasty. Hooked, that's what I was. Still am. Hooked.

In fact, my Blue Bell Chocolate Covered Strawberry 1/2 gallon of ice cream awaits in the freezer.

It don't get any better than that!

Cougar Cool-Aid

‘Cougar’ has taken on a whole new definition. Not such a strong, gorgeous feline in the forest anymore, but a strong, gorgeous feline who resides in her own habitat, on any given street, in any concrete or non-paved jungle, on any given hemisphere. The cougar, I speak of, is an older feline who has a hanker for younger cubs. You know the celebrity roster: Demi Moore, Joan Collins, Susan Sarandon, Halle Berry and even “Mar” aka Mary Tyler Moore—guess tossing that cap in the air was a good thing! .

What about the everyday woman? Clips coupons. Likes the sales at Target. Watches The Next New Food Network Star? Ya know, like ME?

See, I was told I’m a cougar. Why? Because I have a sweet little crush on this guy. Even though Movie Man is 18 years my senior—we’re more like little brother (one I never wanted) and big sister (when he listens to me). No, I’m talking about this guy from church.

CHURCH?!?!? :)

Calm down.

I don’t think he’s older than 25---if he’s even 25. Early 20-something. When this guy was born—let’s says 1983—I was---well---hmmm…uh…doing things. Chums look at me like I’m nuts (hey no nod of your head! J What can I possibly see in him, they ask? After all, I could have carried him in my belly!

After some ponder: his potential. Hugs ain’t bad either, yet, we’ll stay on topic. His potential. An aura of maturity circles him. Our conversations have centered on writing, and have taken place only in church. Granted, he’s young, with so much more to experience (heck, so do I!) He hasn’t got a clue what’s in store. Yet, from his vibe, I’m confident when he hits life’s bumps in the road—he’ll be able to smooth em out—no problem. I just see it. Know it. Feel it.

My chums shake their head: He’s too young for you! Look, I’m not asking to wear his letter jacket or get married. However, I do wonder how our conversation would be over coffee. To hear his view of the world. Our history making election. His dreams. Then I wonder still, would I be able to carry on a conversation with a guy who never experienced life without computers, cell phones, or gasoline less than a dollar a gallon?

Maybe I could. Maybe I couldn’t. Almost makes me want to find out.

Nonetheless, I see a good man on the horizon. His parents did a good job. His potential. Our future looks even more brilliant with more guys like him at the helm.

If that makes me a cougar---so be it.

Now, if you will excuse me, I need stalk my prey for this night: Blue Bell Coffee Ice Cream.