Cigarette Lighters: Buyer Over 18

Who knew that in order to buy a cigarette lighter, you have to be 18 or older? Who knew they would actually card one for such a thing? But they do. Oh yes, they do.

Saturday night - or was it Friday night? They're all kinda blurring together right now... Friday night, it was Friday night - Mike stopped at a gas station and since I was going to buy gum, asked me to pick him up a lighter - he'd lost his, and then he'd bought another, and lost it, too.

So, I grabbed the gum and the lighter and the woman behind the counter said, "I'll have to see an ID."

So I showed it to her. She looked at me suspiciously, clearly not believing that it was a real ID. You know, since people forge passports on a regular basis. She finally said, "Okay," and gave me my total.

So, I said (making conversation... it's what I do), "How old do you have to be to buy a lighter?"

"Eighteen," more suspicious looks, as if she still disbelieved me.

I got out to the car and told Mike about it, and he laughed! "Do I really look that young?" I asked when he stopped laughing.

"Um... today... well, you know... well..."

"Nevermind, Mike."

"Thanks, sweetie."

And then, at dinner, Mike told Adam, who spit up his alcoholic beverage. (And then a friend of theirs apologized when he said his 18-year-old students are kinda stupid sometimes, thinking I was 18... Mike choked on his coke, Adam his taco. Dang it all.)

Ali and The Boys

Hurray for having reliable internet for the first time in several days!

My puppy, Ali, seems to have made a few friends in the boys, starting with my brother, progressing to my father, and ending with my boyfriend.

Ali and Ken

The first time Ken saw Ali, he scorned her, "I don't like small dogs."
Ten minutes later, he was picking her up, throwing her, petting her, etc. He "borrowed" her and went down to the basement. When he returned her, he said, "I tried to ride her."
I was a little worried. With my brother, you just never know. Later, I asked one of his friends about it. Zach said, "No, he didn't. He threw her and dropped her and made her roll. I would keep him away from the puppy, if I were you."
Well, said, Zach.
The problem is, by then, she already had a puppy crush on him. As soon as she saw him or heard him, her little butt and tail would start wagging like crazy. Then, she would go crazy, jumping around, hopping, pumping herself up for the inevitable playtime.
And then, he was going somewhere, and didn't want to play. She watched him go, with big, sad eyes and then turned her craziness on the rest of us.
I can't break her of it. Merde.

Ali and Dad

My dad thought Ali was cute pretty much immediately. HE liked petting her and holding her and playing with her. He didn't like it when she bit. He helped me come up with a temporary solution. Temporary being the key word.

Ali and Mike

When Mike first saw her, he laughed. "My cats would eat her alive." True story.
Then, when she tried to bite him, he didn't do what Ken did (push her and watch her roll over - I think she liked it), instead he picked her up waaay over his head (like my dad did) and said, "You're a little shit, you know that?

Then, today, before Mike and I were getting ready to go to lunch (I still wasn't ready, and so he played on the computer: go figure), and she bit his toes and he told me, "She's a turd."
"You don't like her?'
"No, I like her. She's cute as hell."
And then she bit his toe again. Sharp baby teeth.

Puppy needs puppy classes.

Christmas Eve Broadcast from the Apollo 8 in 1968

How cool is this?

Hilary Clinton and Universal Health Care

Chekc out this "commercial."





What do you think?

Personally, I think that's ridiculous. First of all, a gift is something you receive "freely." Hilary's "gifts" are something that we (as taxpayers) have the wonderful joy of paying for. Ourselves.

On a similar note, I realize that several people think Universal Health Care would be a good thing. I can say with certainty, that it wouldn't be. Government run health care programs have a tendency to fail miserably because "we the people" abuse them. What a concept.

If you don't believe me, check out the American Education system. It sucks. American Education couldn't be worse. Let's make a crazy assumption here, and say it sucks because it's government-run. Now, if the government can't run the education system, why should the health care system be any different? And if they can't run the education system, how will they be able to run both the education system and the health care system?

I'm against free health care. Because in my experience, anything that's "free" comes at great cost.

The Puppy

Here are some pics of my puppy. Her name is Ali. But she hasn't quite figured that out. If you say "Ali" she occasionally looks at you and tilts her head like she thinks you might be referring to her.

There she is after her first bath. She needed it. Trust me. She also needed the second one. But look how cute and innocent she looks!






And then she adopted Cheryl's old coat... and she still has it... it's her bed since she hates her kennel with a passion I didn't know was possible in puppies.

Courage And Words

There are different kinds of brave, and different kinds of courage. There's the courage to get up in front of people, and to talk, or to sing or to share. There's the courage to get things done. There's the courage to ask people for things, like money. There's the courage to tell people the way things are - or should be. There's the courage to tell a friend that he/she is stupid.

The only way I'll get up in front of people and sing - even Karaoke - is if I'm drunk, I'm pretty sure. I don't know this from experience, it's just a hunch. It's something I would want to do - something I would love to do, really, I just can't do it. That's why I think that if I hadn't any inhibitions I could do it.

Mike doesn't get that. For him, singing in front of people is no problem. I was trying to explain to him why I can't, and he said, "Just watch me, you just get up and do it. It doesn't take courage." His best friend, Adam, understood better, and while we were both listening to Mike sing, said, "He'll never understand that, Robin. He just won't." So true.

I don't have the type of courage to call out a friend, either. I can gripe and complain all I want, but when it actually comes down to it, I won't do anything. I won't try to change it. I'll think about it for sure, but thinking is different than doing.

People talk talk talk talk talk about how things should be different, about how they should be better. But I've noticed something about people. Oftentimes, the ones doing all the talking, the ones who are so passionate about getting others motivated, don't do anything themselves - and oftentimes, they never will.

I think that's a different kind of brave. I think that having the courage to realize something is wrong and working to change that is one of the best kinds of brave, one of the best types of courage. Especially when that work goes unspoken.

*Long sigh* Yep, that was my weekend

It was a long weekend. Friday night Mike and I went to see the Golden Compass. We didn't enjoy it at all, which is sad because I was really looking forward to it.

Yesterday, I was going to go to church with Mike's grandma and uncle, but got to there house after they'd already left - and then ended up stuck.

Like the smart person I am occasionally, I called Mike to tell him I was stuck in his driveway. He laughed at me, but was willing enough to help me out. I was in the middle of explaining to him where I was, when my feet fell out from under me and I ended up flat on my face. "Humiliations galore" came to mind, but he didn't say anything, so I figured it was between me and God.

I got to the house, and he said something about seeing me take a tumble. I made a face, but didn't bother telling him that I hadn't wanted him to see, until later, when we were telling the story to his grandma. It was hilarious.

Then, he helped me get the car up the driveway. First he helped me get it out, and then he floored it, and got it up.

At least, that's what was supposed to happen. Instead, he floored it, we got about halfway up, and then it went off the driveway and into the corn field.

"We're stuck here, Babe. You're not going anywhere until someone can get this out."

So he made me breakfast. It's good to know my boyfriend can cook. I hate ice.

A Rather Long Ramble

I spend most of my time at home. In fact, by the time Melody gets home, I'm so antsy to leave that I practically run her over. That's only a slight exaggeration, which she can confirm with only the smallest of eye rolls, I'm sure.

While I'm at home, I watch TV - and write. I need noise. I need it. I can't concentrate without noise. This leaves two choices: music or TV. I can only write to some music. Not some types, some music. Let me explain. I can write to Flogging Mary's "Light of a Fading Star" but none of their other songs. I can write to Liz Phair's "Why Can't I," Little Digger" or "It's Sweet" but none of her other songs. I can write to several of Avril Lavigne's songs, including, "Complicated," "He Wasn't," and "Things I'll Never Say." But even though I have those on a separate section in my iTunes, I can still only write to those songs sometimes... sometimes I can't do it, and I have to change the song in frustration. This disrupts my writing pattern twice - once when I hear it, and once when I have to change it. That's no good. That makes TV better - especially if it's a TV show I know well, like Smallville. TV is easy to drown out. (Isn't that awful?)

Anyway, one of my standard shows is "Little House On the Prairie."

In one of today's episodes, Mary Ingalls, Nellie Olsen, and a little boy who is disabled are running for class president. The boys figured that the girls would split the votes for Mary and Nellie, and all the boys would vote for the boy. I don't actually know what happened, but it ends all happy and the boy wins class president, chatta chatta. Like I said, it's drowned out. I don't pay much attention.

But today's episode brought back a crazy memory from elementary school.

My best friend, Jessica Kadlec, was running for student body president. I was soooo proud of her, and I knew, just knew, that she would do an excellent job. And if she'd gotten the position, she would have. But she didn't get it.

She promised things that could actually be done - but not things that many of the students really cared about. The guy who won, who probably didn't do anything he said he would because he simply didn't have the power, and whose name I've forgotten by now, promised all kinds of of ridiculous, but enticing things.

In elementary school, you don't really see a problem with asking someone who they voted for, and I remember asking my friend, Anna on the way home from school if she'd voted for Jessica. I mean, I was sure she had: I'd told everyone, literally everyone, that they should, because she'd do such a good job.

Anna, though, told me she hadn't, and when I incredulously asked why, she said, "Because, we can't have a girl president. Girls can't be president. They shouldn't even run. It just isn't done."

Funny, isn't it? I didn't see it then for what it was: an excuse. It makes me wonder when we vote on a larger scale: for our nation's president. Are we voting for who would truly make the better candidate, or the person who promises us the things that make us happy?

Sorry this was such a long post. Peace Out.

French and Star Trek

I have an adorable boyfriend. Yesterday (Sunday) we were watching a film - Star Trek Insurrection - and at the end, we still had a bit of time before we were meeting up with some of his friends (it was one's birthday), and we were going through the Special Features.

Once those were up, he selected a chapter (I wasn't paying much attention, one of the cats had decided to grace me with its presence), and then waited for me to look up. When I did, it started playing, and I looked back down. Until I heard it in French. I looked up again so quickly I gave myself whiplash. Good job, I know.

I was sooooooo excited, though. He just sat watching my expression until I looked up at him, and then he asked, "Can you understand all of that?"
"Yep."
"Could you understand it all the way through?"
"Yep."
"Tell me what they're saying."

So I translated four or five minutes of the film before we got ready to go to with the others. It was fun.