Happy Pentecost Sunday

Come Holy Ghost, Creator Blest,
And in our hearts take up Thy rest;
Come with Thy grace and heav'nly aid
To fill the hearts which Thou hast made,
To fill the hearts which Thou hast made.

O Comfort Blest to Thee we cry,
Thou heav'nly Gift of God most high;
Thou fount of life and fire of love,
And sweet anointing from above,
And sweet anointing from above.

Praise be to Thee Father and Son,
And Holy Spirit Three in one;
And may the Son on us bestow
The gifts that from the Spirit flow,
The gifts that from the Spirit flow.



Veni, creator Spiritus!

Who Knew a Yeast Infection Could Be This Serious....

Not all email forwards are bad. Just the curses. And the good luck stuff. And the astrology. Some are kind of fun, and I like to share it with my friends. I love jokes. Some friends at prayer group shared this with Bob and me a few years ago. This was before everyone and their brother had email, so it was probably more than a few. They printed this out and brought this to the meeting to share with us, where we all begged for our own copies. Yes. We begged for it. I was thinking about it, and googled, cut, and pasted the durn thing for your pleasure. Since this was shared with me at a prayer meeting, I consider this joke holy.



Please join me in remembering a great icon of the entertainment community. The Pillsbury Doughboy died yesterday of a yeast infection and trauma complications from repeated pokes in the belly. He was 71.

Doughboy was buried in a lightly greased coffin. Dozens of celebrities turned out to pay their respects, including Mrs. Butterworth, Hungry Jack, the California Raisins, Betty Crocker, the Hostess Twinkies, and Captain Crunch. The grave site was piled high with flours.

Aunt Jemima delivered the eulogy and lovingly described Doughboy as a man who never knew how much he was kneaded. Doughboy rose quickly in show business, but his later life was filled with turnovers. He was not considered a very smart cookie, wasting much of his dough on half-baked schemes. Despite being a little flaky at times he still was a crusty old man and was considered a positive roll model for millions.

Doughboy is survived by his wife Play Dough, two children, John Dough and Jane Dough, plus they had one in the oven. He is also survived by his elderly father, Pop Tart. The funeral was held at 3:50 for about 20 minutes.




This video was not recommended by the prayer group, therefore it is not holy. But it is funny!



And here is another one of that bad boy...

I Think HH Has Taken Over the Blog for a Day

For those of you that missed my interview with myself, HH is Hungarian Helen, and she is a toughie.






If you actually have an MBA, don't worry, I don't actually personally blame you for the economy any more than I blame all scientists for embryonic stem cell research, all priest for....well, you know...., or all politicians for corruption.

Okay, maybe that last one doesn't belong.

Okay, one more...



That was more about the spreadsheets than you....

Please, Mr. Government Official, Permit Me to Pray With My Friends in My Own Home...

Gatherings such as this are illegal in San Diego without a permit.


A video of an interview with the couple on Fox News.

Please click here and read this article. Yeah, if you have a big family, do you need a permit to say grace before meals? This ordinance may make sense if we are talking about a gathering of more than a hundred, but a group bible study with about 1/3 the number of people that came to weekly card parties back in the day (and yes, they sang songs in Hungarian until two in the morning!)? This is outrageous! Does that hold true if I am having weekly teas and rallies for the newest progressive political candidate, or only if I want to lead the meeting with a prayer?






What does the article and my angry rant have to do with What I learned this week? Everything. I have learned that I do take my religious liberties for granted. My husband often asks me what I would do if the Church had to go underground due to persecution. I learned that I haven't been taking this question seriously, and it is time that I do.

Matthew 26: 40-41 "Then he returned to his disciples and found them sleeping. 'Could you men not keep watch with me for one hour?' he asked Peter. 'Watch and pray so that you will not fall into temptation. The spirit is willing, but the body is weak.'"

Time to watch and pray. Thank you to those of you who already are....

Q: How Many Bobble Headed Einsteins Does It Take to Make A Funny Movie?

A: 3.14159265 in the face! (Get it? pi IN THE FACE!)



Okay, I had a great weekend. I can't say anything funny happened, but we saw the movie Night At the Museum 2, and it was funny. I actually like the sequel better than the original, which is unusual for me.
Did you ever go see a comedy because the trailer was awesome, only to discover that allthe funny gags were used in the trailer, and the trailer was actually funnier than the movie? Well, not this movie. My biggest disappoint is that YouTube doesn't have the Einstein bobble head scene, which I thought was the best. This movie had lots of funny sequences that did not make it into the trailer. The roaring dinosaur scene is actually funny in the movie, while in the trailer it looks like a so so gag.
The Einsteins were my favorite scene. My husband liked the Pharaoh with the Boris Karloff accent. Did you see the movie? Did you like it? Which scene was your favorite?

Happy Memorial Day

Happy Ascension Thursday

Acts 1: 8-11
But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth."
After he said this, he was taken up before their very eyes, and a cloud hid him from their sight.
They were looking intently up into the sky as he was going, when suddenly two men dressed in white stood beside them. "Men of Galilee," they said, "why do you stand here looking into the sky? This same Jesus, who has been taken from you into heaven, will come back in the same way you have seen him go into heaven."

Three Awesome Teachers

Sherri for Matter of Fact asked that we share a teacher who was significant in our lives. I think I will share my top three.

3. Mrs. Golliet. She did not have a first name. Okay, she probably did, but she was my fifth grade teacher. In fifth grade, a teacher's name is Miss, Mrs., or Mr. While the same holds true in practice in older grades, junior high kids are more curious about these things than younger students. At least that was true in my day.
What made Mrs. Golliet so special? Lots of things. I remember her teaching us about Roanoke Island, Henry the VIII, Native Americans, Vikings...I can still remember her at the board imparting this information to us, and how fascinated I was by History.
Also, she was the teacher I had when I got my first period. While I got it at home (sorry if this is getting TMI boys, you can skip to the next paragraph if you like), I appreciated her little talk with us girls alone where she told us to ask for the red bag if we got a surprise. I did get an unscheduled visit when I was in seventh grade and had a male teacher, and after asking permission to leave to use the washroom, went to Mrs. Golliet's room and asked for the red bag. She was most gracious. That's when I realized teachers don't stop thinking of us as theirs as soon as we leave the classroom, you know what I mean.
Another thing making her special is she is the first person I met with what one might consider a handicap. She had polio as a child, and could not move one arm. I think it was her left arm. She still played the piano, directed our singing the Star Spangled Banner at assemblies, and did so much that her inability to move her arm became unnoticeable after the first week with her. I was afraid I would have to learn not to stare, and she'd hate me if I did, but she was so capable of so many admirable things that my fear proved unfounded. And if I did stare the first week, she was gracious enough to pretend not to notice. Definitely beyond the call of duty.

2. Frau Hildegarde Germaine. She was my German teacher in High School. I took German for four years. I know. I should have taken Spanish, but I had Spanish in Elementary School, and though I wasn't fluent, try convincing a teen ager that she doesn't know everything already. Still, having Hildegarde Germaine for four years was awesome.
She had a sense of humor. I remember her being late for class once, and Stephanie, who I didn't get along with then but later became good friends with, got on my nerves so I hit her on the top of her head with my book. Frau Germaine walked in just then and was like "Helen, I'm so disappointed...". I looked at her, then my book, and started spanking my book, while saying "Bad Book! Very Bad Book!" She and Stephanie both laughed, and I was off the hook. When my own students did stupid stuff when I became a teacher, I tried to remember that there is a place for humor in the classroom.
Also, since I had her for four years, she was aware of when I was me, and when I put up a facade, and would very caringly ask me what was wrong when the facade was up. It was good to know that I couldn't fool everyone. That probably doesn't make much sense. Oh well....

1. Mr. John A. Randazzo. He was my seventh grade teacher. He knew when to laugh at the class clowns, and when to say enough. He knew when to be sensitive to a student who was hurting, and when to say "buck up!" He was very balanced.
In his class, I gained an appreciation for classical music. In his class, I learned that school can be exciting. He had us do science experiments, plays, dances, painting, drawing, singing, games...If we had indoor recess, we played volleyball sitting on our desks using a nerf ball. He integrated history with art and music. Classes flowed into each other instead of being separated into bubbles. I learned from him that learning can be fun. I wanted to do that for children someday, so I became a teacher.
While I don't have his email address, and he has since retired, so I can't contact him at John M. Palmer School, I know he knows the influence he had on me. I did my hundred hours of clinical in his class, and was supported by him once again. While I never was as good of a teacher as him, I know I was a better teacher for being in his classroom. Heck, I was a teacher period because I was once his student.

A Time for Peace...

Ecclesiates 3:1-8
3:1 For everything there is a fixed time, and a time for every business under the sun.

3:2 A time for birth and a time for death; a time for planting and a time for uprooting;

3:3 A time to put to death and a time to make well; a time for pulling down and a time for building up;

3:4 A time for weeping and a time for laughing; a time for sorrow and a time for dancing;

3:5 A time to take stones away and a time to get stones together; a time for kissing and a time to keep from kissing;

3:6 A time for search and a time for loss; a time to keep and a time to give away;

3:7 A time for undoing and a time for stitching; a time for keeping quiet and a time for talk;

3:8 A time for love and a time for hate; a time for war and a time for peace.


That's my excuse for my letting go to grief and sadness yesterday. I can't fight it. If I let go to it, the next season comes all the quicker. If I fight it, I lose, but the battle may take days. I have learned to give in to sorrow, and when it is spent, look at what I have gained instead of what I have lost. Knowing Elizabeth has definitely been more gain than loss. Plus, there is a saint in heaven right now who holds me in her affection. How cool is that?

I know we have heard this song a thousand and one times, but I love to listen to it on days of renewal....

In a Sad Sort of Way...

This week's life is funny post is not funny ha ha. It isn't even funny strange. It is funny the way Woody Allen is funny, meaning not really. Yeah, can you tell I am not a fan? Still, it's what I got this week, so I'll share. Keep in mind, if my story makes you feel the same way it makes me feel, you'll be bawlin' your eyes out and cursing me, not laughing, so feel free to comment "Hope you feel better, Helen dear..." without actually reading. Wendy hon, if you want to disqualify me from life is funny this week due to this post, let me know, and I will take down the button and take and post a picture of myself hanging my head in shame.
Rewind life to about five years ago. Picture in your heads a lovely two bedroom, third floor apartment where a High School graduation party for a younger daughter is about to be held. I am at the door, and the elder daughter opens it.

HRM: Hi Elizabeth! Great haircut! (Elizabeth's former blonde, shoulder length hair is now pitch black, and very short).
Elizabeth: Thanks!
HRM: You went a little darker.
Elizabeth: (mischievous smile) Too dark?
HRM: Nah! Looks very natural. I have a cousin who dyed her blonde hair black, and it doesn't look so natural. Your stylist did right by you.
Elizabeth: (still mischievously smiling) So you like it?
HRM: Well, besides the fact that it reminds me that I am ancient (I taught her when she was a third grader, and here she is twenty years old), and making me feel like I should be using a walker, calling people dearie, and asking if it is time for my meds yet, yeah I like it. How did you get supermodel sophisticated before I finished growing up myself?
Elizabeth: (laughter that sounds like a tinkling bell. No not giggling. Truly lady-like laughter which she never learned from me...) Mom and everyone are in the dining room. Can I get you anything?
HRM: No thank you. Not yet.


I proceed to the dining room table and chit chat with a bunch of people, as happens at parties. At this party are neighbors and some of Hannah's (the graduate) and Elizabeth's former teachers. Her mom was a teacher at the same school, so we remained close with the kids, even after they left Elementary School. We laugh and talk. Elizabeth and I chat some more.

Elizabeth: I am thinking about becoming a Physical Therapist instead of a doctor.
HRM: Good for you!
Elizabeth: You aren't disappointed?
HRM; Are you kidding? Physical Therapists do wonders in helping patients become mobile after surgery and accidents and atrophy! If that's where you are called, I wish you well.
Elizabeth: You know, I had considered becoming a missionary. This could interfere with those plans.
HRM: Nonsense! I have a friend who is a missionary to Bangladesh, and he teaches English some of the time, and does construction work some of the time. You never know what they need. Do what you have to do, apply when the time comes, and see what happens.
Elizabeth: So you think it could still work out?
HRM: It could. Maybe it will, maybe it won't. You can't force things though. You just have to trust God to work it all out for the best in the end.
Elizabeth: (sweet smile) Thanks..

And onto more chit chat and conversation with graduate, the mom, neighbors, and stuff. The neighbors leave.

Hannah: That was nice of everyone to come.
The Mom: Yes, it was...
Elizabeth: It's hard being around the kids though. I know they can't help it, but they still introduce me to their friends as "My friend with cancer...
(My mouth drops open...I cover it...I had forgotten this whole time, and am completely horrified.
HRM: Elizabeth, I'm sorry. I don't know how I could forget. I bend God's ear all morning praying for you, how can I just see you and forget....
Elizabeth: It's okay Mr. M. (She never would call me Helen, no matter how friendly we were).
HRM: And all that talk about your hair...
Elizabeth: It's okay. It was nice being a girl with a short hair cut for a while instead of a cancer patient.

Such grace. I could learn a lot from her, if she was still around to teach me. This month is the second anniversary of her passing to be with the Lord. May sucks. I told you it wasn't a funny ha ha. Sorry folks. I can only give what I have, and this week, this is what I have.
But since you stuck with me this long, I think I'll share a joke with you that Elizabeth shared with me, possibly at the same party. I think it's a riot. It has become one of my favorites.

One night a burglar breaks into a house as its owners are asleep. He's lifting the TV to put in his bag when he hears a voice say, "Jesus is watching you."
The startled burglar flashes his light all over the room, but he can't find the source of the voice. He chalks it up to nerves and carries on. As he is disconnecting the stereo wires, he hears it again. "Jesus is watching you."
He looks around the room again, and spots a parrot sitting in the corner. "Did you say that?" he asks.
"Yup," the parrot admits," I was just trying to warn you, Jesus is watching."
"Pttt!" the burglar snorts. "Who are you, to warn me?!"
"Well," the parrot says, "My name is Moses."
"Moses! What kind of people name a parrot Moses?"
"Probably the same kind who name a Rottweiler Jesus."

Silly Saturday

Colbert is one of my favorite comedians. Here he tells us about the Summer Movies that will ruin the country.

The Colbert Report	Mon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c
Movies That Are Destroying America - Summer Movie Edition
colbertnation.com
Colbert Report Full Episodes Political Humor Gay Marriage

I Promise It Isn't Yoga...

Now, by this cartoon, I don't even mean literally dead, just dead tired....
What I learned this week....
Hmm.....well, yesterday's post tells you I learned I am still a bit more worried about email curses than a good Christian girl out to be, but how about something more positive.
Oooh, I got it! I think I may have mentioned that sometimes I get back pains. Sometimes they are really bad, other times they are mild, but for the last several months they have been constant. Well, this week I have been doing some stretching exercises before I get out of bed. The ones I do are the ones my mom does that her physical therapist gave her. You know what I learned? That crap actually works! I got out of bed pain free a couple of days this week, and with very mild pain a couple of days this week.
So my big revelation of the week is that stretching works. Some of you knew that already? Good for you. I guess I always assumed since it hurts to bend and turn and stuff when my back is bothering me (lately always. The new bed helped some, but not as much as it seemed to that first week...I hope that's not a pattern. On the bright side, if it is, I'll have a new What I Learned post or maybe Life is Funny Post.) it would hurt even more to exercise.




I also learned that blog carnivals are really nice when you don't have a topic in mind to write about.

WARNING! DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU BELIEVE IN EMAIL CURSES! Seriously, my rant isn't worth your piece of mind....

Please read the title of this post before you go on and think about this. I don't want to be a stumbling block to anyone, but I need a good rant bad. Yeah, yeah, TWSS.

The other day, I got one of those email bad luck to you if you don't pass this on / good luck to you if you do pass this on emails. God, how I hate those. No, I did not just take His name in vain. I really do lift my heart and voice to Him today as I write this. I really, REALLY need His presence with me as I write this.

You see, while I have no trouble passing down the Happy Butterfly emails, or the pretty pictures emails, or the uplifting message emails, or the you're gonna laugh so hard that you'll be dizzy emails, I will not be passing these down. A better person would leave it at that. But you see, I am not a better person...

WHAT IN THE NAME OF GUMBY ARE THESE PEOPLE WHO SEND THIS THINKING!? I consider myself to have a good relationship with my creator. I love Jesus. Jesus loves me. That should make me the proverbial school girl skipping through a field of daisies singing songs from Sunday School! But you know what? That's not me...


I have posted before on how my mom was diagnosed as never able to walk again on a day I deleted one of these email bad luck/good luck chain letters. The post was only one paragraph, so it won't take long to click back, but if you don't want to, the gist of it is that I struggled with guilt for causing my mom's illness after that. As a Christian, I knew better, yet still felt icky. I went to Confession (during the time of the posting I linked), and the priest told me that it is the devil whispering to me that I caused mom's illness by ignoring a chain letter, and it is the devil who caused me to fear the email I posted about.
I also posted how surviving the email death curse helped me realize how bogus all of them are, and stated that I wouldn't worry about it ever again. HAH! If you can take reading the bad luck my "friend" throws my way if I don't send this to ten people, continue reading. If you are superstious, or just feel a nervous churning in your stomach, don't read on. I am going to post a picture which has nothing to do with this post now so your eyes don't see more than your heart can handle. It's okay. I am not judging. If I got tripped up in worry myself, I'd be a hypocrite to judge someone else having similar issues.





Subject: Read Alone (DO NOT DELETE) this is interesting

Read
Alone.....
Especially the Poem

I believe whatever is in store for

us will be for us.

The poem is very true, unfortunately.

Make sure you read the poem!

CASE 1: Kelly Sedey had one wish,

for her boyfriend of three years,

David Marsden, to propose to her.

Then one day when she was out



to lunch David proposed!

She accepted, but then had to leave


because she had a meeting in 20 min.

When she got to her office,

she noticed on her computer she had some e-mail's.

She checked it, the usual stuff



from her friends, but then she saw one

that she had never gotten before.



It was this poem. She simply deleted it

without even reading all of it.


>
BIG MISTAKE! Later that evening,

she received a phone call from the



police

It was about DAVID! He had been in an accident



with an 18 wheeler. He didn't survive!



Okay, friend who sent email, you believe this chain letter you wrote, and are willing to put my Bob in jeopardy. Thanks a lot! Guess who is no longer on my Christmas list!



CASE 2: Take Katie Robinson She received this poem

and being the believer that she was

she sent it to a few of her friends but



didn't have enough e-mail addresses to send out

the full 5 that you must.

Three days later, Katie went to a masquerade ball.



Later that night when she left to get to her car,

she was killed in that spot by a


hit-and-run drunk driver.



Okay, friend who sent the email, now you are willing to put my life in jeopardy to get your ten people list. Thank you. Whether I believe in email bad luck or not, I now know who would push me aside in a fire to get out. So thank you, that is always useful information to have.


CASE 3: Charles sent this poem out

within 45 minutes of reading it.

Not even 4 hours later walking along the street

to his new job interview with a really big company, !

when he ran into Cynthia,

his secret love of many years. Cynthia came up to him



and told him of her passionate crush on him

that she had had for 2 years.

Three days later, he proposed to her and they got married..

Cynthia and Charles are still married

happy as ever!



Well good for him! Let's not make the mistake of believing that maybe God blessed Charlie. It was good luck. Good luck brought on from this email you are passing down now. Woo hoo.

I don't want luck. Any of it, good or bad. I want the blessings God gives me, even the ones I don't recognize as blessings at the moment. They come with no strings attached. He blesses me because He loves me. That isn't to say that He won't bless the work of my hands, if that work is His will. But He isn't waiting to bless or zap me based on a trivial email! He blessed me with His Son Jesus, even though I deserve curses instead. He also blesses me with my husband, who your bad luck email seeks to threaten, and my own life, which that email I blogged about a year ago seeked to threaten, and my mom who.....you get the idea. You claim to want to bring me the good luck.....As I have asked you privately, KEEP IT! I don't need it, I don't want it.
Who on my email list would I sacrifice for it? Not a one!

I wish I could say I am not nervous now. I wish I was a better Christian. Can I ask those of you who read through to pray for Bob and me, that I don't kill him or myself when I delete that email today. Thanks. I wish I didn't need to ask. I wish my faith was stronger. Again thanks.

I have not included the poem. If you are wondering about it at all, the gist of it was to get in touch with old friends and family and let them know you love them before time slips away, and it is too late. I haven't included it here because I don't want someone who accidently lands here to have the tools to cut and paste this into the chain letter I am deleting. It's too bad, too, because it wasn't a bad poem.

Dancing With the Kumquats...

Today, by popular request (and by that we mean that Katdish is popular), HRM will conduct an interview with Helen (herself). For those of you new to Random Musings, HRM stands for Helen's blog persona, Helen at Random Musings. Helen is her actual everyday self. These interviews are getting harder as they become one in the same. Our regulars may recognize some new personalities in this interview. In actuality, they are new to the interviewing process, but not actually new to this blog.

You may be surprised to learn that today's interview did not come as easily as the others. You have no idea about the lengths HRM had to go through to get Helen to agree to sit down with with herself, and do this interview. Do you have any idea how flexible one has to be to kiss their own butt? And HRM isn't all that flexible. Neither am I. Neither is Helen. Wait a moment. Which one am I? Both of them? Oh dear.....I suppose we ought to get started.

HRM: Thank you for FINALLY agreeing to sit down with me for this interview.
Helen: Your welcome.
HRM: Don't you recognize sarcasm when you hear it?
Helen: Give me a break. You know how tired I get when I fully give in to my insanity. It's a bit taxing.
HRM: Well it's not like it is any easier on me you know!
Helen: True, true. So, tell me HRM, what would you like to interview me about. I might have been a bit more cooperative if you had clued me in as to what you intended on interviewing me about.
HRM: Well, I was thinking that since we have to tap into the insane portion of your brain to do an interview anyways, we could talk about this whole salsa dancing in the supermarket thing you go on about.
Helen: Oh. Okay. What do you want to know about it?
HRM: First of all, how did it start?
Helen: I am not sure I know how to answer that question.
HRM: (mumbles) and the insanity begins....
Helen: Excuse me. I didn't quite catch what you said.
HRM: Nothing, nothing. Why don't you start by telling us when you became aware of your...liking for Dancing With The Seasonal Fruit....
Helen: When I realized that my salsa was too hot for frozen foods!
HRM: HAH! You're a riot.
Helen: You started it with the seasonal fruit comment.
HRM: And your spoiled. Out of all our personalities, mom always liked you best!
Helen: Dare I say why....?
SSH ( Supermarket Salsa Helen): Ladies, please. The salsa is a dance of love, not war. Make peace with each other mi hermanas queridas...
HRM: Well, it's Supermarket Salsa Helen. Maybe it is you I should be interviewing...
SSH: Please. You know as well as I that it all started with Helen. I would like to sit in on this interview if I may. I wouldn't mind adding a bit of information if Helen is reluctant to cooperate.
Helen: Oh great! Now you two are ganging up on me!
SSH: Not exactly, mi hermana. I know that sometimes you get a little bit tripped up about fully displaying your insanity. I'm only here to help, Querida. Besides. HRM is right about mom liking you best.
HRM: So, where were we?
SSH: You were asking your guest about how she got started dancing in supermarkets.
HRM: Yes, thank you SSH. Tell us Helen, how did you get started?
Helen: Well, it started just with me noticing that I was singing along to the songs on the p.a. system.
HRM: How long had you been doing that before you noticed?
Helen: I don't know.
HRM: Okay then. I'll rephrase the question. How did you first notice?
Helen: I had given up contemporary secular music for Lent. I didn't listen at home or in the car. Then I found in the Supermarket that I was not only listening to the music, but singing along.
HRM: So what did you do?
Helen: I tried to control myself in the grocery store until Lent was over.
HRM: And then...
Helen: I cut loose. I remembered how I used to yank my friends' chains and tell them life should be like a musical, and then start singing at the bus stop, or downtown. This was in college. They were true friends. They hung out with me anyways. Though they did not sing along.
HRM: What did they do?
Helen: They gave me that look like they really wanted to laugh, but they were afraid to encourage me.
HRM: Figures. If I could, I'd give you that look sometimes myself.
SSH: But you had not started the dancing yet, mija.
HRM: Whose conducting this interview?
SSH: (Sigh) You are, HRM. But I did think you wanted my help.
HRM: Thank you, I do. I'm sorry for snapping at you. I just think I pulled a back muscle when Helen made me kiss our
SSH: I accept your apology. No more is needed...
HRM: So Helen, SSH says you weren't dancing yet. How did that start.
Helen: Well, honestly it started gradually. I wasn't really belting out the songs yet, but I wasn't shy and trying not to sing either. One day, a song I really liked started playing, and I started to move to the music a little, hardly noticing it.
SSH: Tell her the rest, Querida. It is okay. I was there. I'll back you up.
HRM: Well it's not like I was home watching t.v. at the time...
SSH: Ssssh, HRM. Helen needs a little cajoling to get this out. Please allow me...
(HRM nods at SSH)
SSH: Helen, it's okay. You could have done worse. Far worse.....
Helen: Well, there was this lady who was staring at me as if I was crazy. I thought about yelling "WHAT'S THE MATTER WITH YOU! HAVEN'T YOU MET ANYONE WHO WAS CHEERFUL BEFORE? GEE, I WONDER WHY NOT? SOURPUSSS!".
SSH: But you didn't, did you.
H.H. (Hungarian Helen): And she darn well should have. Have a little backbone, why don't you?
SSH: What are you doing here, Hungarian Helen?
H.H. I am trying to keep us from looking like candy @$$e$!
SSH: HH, our behind may be fluffy as cotton candy, but we are no candy....tushes.
H.H. We know that, but do THEY out there know that?
SSH. "THEY out there" are our friends. They know us well enough. And as our friends, they won't judge us.
H.H. Still, we sound like we nutty enough to make a torte AND a strudel.
SSH: Don't be silly. We don't bake.
(H.H. rolls eyes)
SSH: Tell us all what you did do, mi hermana Querida Helen.
Helen: I looked the woman straight in the eye, and then I belted out the song, and danced full out. Not well, because I am not a great dancer. But not like I was ashamed of what I was doing either. I smile and am friendly in the grocery store, even to strangers. So, while I may not intentionally start my song and dance, when I find that I am dancing or singing, I go full out. I refuse to act like I am ashamed of being cheerful. What do I have to be ashamed of there?
HRM: Your singing and dancing ability?
SSH: Basta, HRM! Enough. I can see why she was reluctant to return...
HRM: Oh yeah?
SSH: Si!
H.H. Look, as much of a blast as this has been, don't you think we should stop arguing and go to bed.
HRM: Good idea.
Helen: I am so glad Bob and I bought a King Sized bed this year.
SSH: Porque, querida?
Helen: So we can all fit...
HRM: Say goodnight, Helen.
Helen: Oh. Okay. Goodnight, Helen....

My friend Katdish was kind enough to invite me to guest post on her blog today. If you have not already checked out her blog, how about doing so now? There you will find today, the saner side of me...

Hot Dog!

Okay, today's Life is Funny post is about Bob. You see, when we first got married, his cooking skills left a little to be desired. He has improved greatly though in the last 13 years. Now, when he cooks a t.v. dinner, it isn't frozen in the middle. Yeah Bob!

Sometimes it is hard to see that people have grown and changed. Take for instance, a few weeks ago. I was running late at CCD. How can you run late at Sunday School? Craft cleanup, preparation for next class, yakking with colleagues....Well, Bob had an appointment at 12:30, and it was almost noon when I was ready to leave. So I called Bob on my cell (while in the faculty room), and asked him to start the hotdogs.

HRM: Bob, I'm running late, but I'm going to leave in a minute.
Bob: I have an appointment at noon and lunch....
HRM: I know hon. Just start the hotdogs, and I'm on my way.
Bob: How should I do that?
HRM: (HUGE SIGH!) Just boil the water, and I'm on my way!
(and I hang up)

My collegues were dumbfounded.
Dee: He doesn't know how to make hot dogs?
HRM: Are you kidding me? If I wanted him to make ice, I'd have to leave him a recipe!


Well, I arrive home, and the hotdogs are almost ready. The issue wasn't that he doesn't know how to make hotdogs. It turned out he was asking me if I wanted them boiled or microwaved. (Bob, if you are reading this, please remember that I have told you that I ALWAYS prefer boiled, and if you had been paying attention, this never would have happened, and half the Church and all my blog followers wouldn't know about your cooking *cough* abilities. Love you!)

Anyhoo, I shouldn't have boxed Bob into the can't cook corner forever.


Not funny enough for you? Okay, point of fact. If you literally translated hot dog into German, you get Heisser Hund. Heisser means hot, hund means dog. Do you know what heisser hund actually means? Female dog in heat....Now that's funny!

If you have any funny stories to share on your blog, how about joining Wendy's Life is Funny carnival?

Random Musing Poll Update and Why Do They Hate Me In South America?

First of all, thank you to those of you who participated in my blue M&M poll. You were no help at all, but that's okay. Apparently, 67% of you think I shouldn't care and should switch to skittles. Thanks. No chocolaty goodness in skittles (Yes, I give the middle finger of grammar to skittles, so there!). The rest of you are evenly divided between whether the blue M&M's taste different from the others. I apparently have a fellow Atkins sufferer, ignorant or innocent of the taste of the blue M&M. (Together, we will get through this)

Has anyone ever checked my map in the sidebar? I do. Every time I refresh. My blog window. Not me. Don't go there. I have never had a visitor from South America. Why not? Why am I hated and ignored by an entire continent? I never did anything to it.
I must do something to get them on board....but what? I KNOW! I declare today to be South America Day on Random Musings.

A Helping of Helen, Chicago Style....

My cousin sent this email to me. I liked it, and thought this might be a good opportunity to learn how to download pictures and stuff from email. I am not sharing all the pictures. If you are interested, email me and I will forward his email to you. The pictures are all of a local amusement park I am way, way to young to remember. It closed down two years before I was even born. (But since all of my cousins are LOTS and LOTS older than me, they remember it well, thus the picture circulation...)

Now, it would have been so easy to just post the list. That would have been what, 45 minutes to figure out how to download pictures then copy and paste text and I'm done. But that would have been so unlike me. You know how I love parentheses. That is why I feel the need to add comments to all these generic lists. It is to share the joy of parentheses with you, my dear friends. Think of it as a hug from me to you.

You Might Be From Chicago If:

You know where Aladdin's Castle was
1. The 'living room' is called the 'front room'. (Yes, I totally do this. I have been known to say of a friend's house that her front room is in the back of the house.)
2. You don't pronounce the 's' at the end of Illinois . And, you become irate at people who do. (Who pronounces the "s"? Huh? This one makes no sense. You all learned your states. You know how to pronounce them.)
3. You measure distance in minutes (especially 'from the city'). And you swear everything is pretty much 1/2 hour away.(That's only because it is...or would be if it wasn't for the traffic..)
4. You have no problem spelling or pronouncing ' Des Plaines '. (Pronounce the "s" at the end. Des Plains is how it is pronounced.)
5. You go to visit friends, or family, down south and laugh when they complain about the traffic. (Breaking for sheep crossing hardly constitutes traffic, sorry Sherri. Geese maybe, since they honk at you.)





You know this was not the Greyhound bus station

6. You understand that no person from Chicago can be a Cub fan AND a White Sox fan. (I try. I'll post on the Baseball Family Feud later. It's a riot...literally!)
7. It's 'Kitty corner' not 'Katty corner'. (Okay, who says "katty corner"? )
8. You know the difference between The Loop and Downtown (The loop is downtown. It is the area encompassed by trains..well here Wikipedia explains it well enough if you don't want to let it suffice that it is all about the trains. )
9. You eat your pizza in squares, not triangles, and you never refer to it as 'pie'. (The major chains do triangles, the local places do squares. Why would anyone order Dominoes when they can have Giordanos, Superossa, Vinces, or Dinos delivered? And that is just within a mile radius of my house. OK. Giordanos is more like three miles. The distance just seems shorter for Giordanos.)
10. You own celery salt.(Actually, I don't. I hope they don't deport me out of the Chicago Metropolitan Area for that.)
11. You understand that the primary is the official local election. (In Chicago, it's Democrat all the way. Once the Democratic Primary is over, the rest is just niceties. Or even badities. The point is, it's a done deal.)
12. You have drunk green beer on St. Paddy's Day. (Ooops! I have not. Green beer? Eeeew..)
13. Stores don't have sacks, they have bags. (Sacks? Is that what rednecks call them?)
14. You end your sentences with an unnecessary preposition. Example: 'Where's my coat at?' or 'Can I go with?' (Well....I have caught myself ending sentences in posts with prepositions, and tried to fix it. I guess I must do that in my speech then, huh? )
15. Your idea of a great tenderloin is when the meat is twice as big as the bun, 'everything' is on it and a slice of dill pickle is on the side. (Now that I am on Atkins, let's just skip the bun altogether.)





You know 'The Bobs' was not plural for Bob

16. You carry jumper cables in your car. (Of course. I don't know how to use them. Still, you stand at the side of the road holding them when you're stuck, and someone stops by. I left that last preposition in the previous sentence just for you.)
17. You drink 'pop'. (Mom always said soda. I say soda pop to make myself clear in all circumstances with all English (American) speaking people.)
18. You understand that I-290, I-90, I-94, and I-294 are all different roads. (They are).
19. You know the names of the interstates: Stevenson, Kennedy, Eisenhower, Dan Ryan, and the Edens. (Yep)
20. You call the interstates 'expressways'. (Of course. You mean everyone doesn't? Do you go around calling the expressways interstates? Why?)
21. You refer to anything South of I-80 as 'Southern or Central Illinois '. (Sorry Sherri. Southern Illinois starts early up here.)
22. You refer to Lake Michigan as 'The Lake '. (Of course. What other lake would we be talking about?)
23. You refer to Chicago as 'The City'. (We're in Illinois. Like Illinois even HAS another city....)
24. 'The Super Bowl' refers to one specific game in January 1986. (This is the one. Rappin' old school style. I forgot about this one. Perhaps I do like rap music.)
25. You have two favorite football teams: The Bears, and anyone who beats the Packers. (Can I get an AMEN!?)
26. You buy the 'Trib', not the 'Tribune' or the 'Times', not the 'Sun Times'. (We get both. But we do call the Trib "the Trib")
27. You know that despite being on the lake, there is no such place as the Waterfront. (Waterfront? Is that what they call it on the ocean shore? Because here, the lake's the lake...)
28. You think 45 degrees is great weather to wash your car. (It's above freezing! What do you want us to do, drive around in dirty cars for a few months?)
29. You picnic or ride your bike in the 'forest preserve'..(Uh huh, Uh huh...If you people comment about "real" forests near you, I'll pull a JML on every one of you! )
30. You cried when Bozo was canceled on WGN. (I couldn't even watch....Chicago without Bozo is like....Amityville without a horror? Boston without a masacre? San Diego without a zoo..... I prefered Cookie anyway. Okay, I miss Bozo. Hang on a second while I get a tissue. Allergies....)




You know this was 'The Silver Flash', not the 'L'

31. You know what goes on a Chicago style hot dog. (Don't ask me. I like what I like. I refuse to pretend otherwise just to prove I am a good Chicagoan. Which interestingly enough, makes me the ULTIMATE Chicagoan...)
32. You know what Chicago Style Pizza REALLY is. (See Chicago hot dog, number 31. In spades!)
33. You know why they call Chicago 'The Windy City '. (Technically, it's the politicians. Actually, we do get alot of wind from the lake effect....)
34. You understand what 'lake-effect' means. ( It has to do with wind on the water. Go ahead and click here if you want technical mumbo jumbo to tell you more.)
35. You know the difference between Amtrak and Metra, and know which station they end up at. (Amtrak is Union Station. Metra is the Metra Station. Not exactly Rocket Science or Nuclear Psychology...)
37. You have ridden the 'L'. (Yep)
38. You think your next door neighbor is a cousin to Tony Soprano (Distant cousin....very distant.....)
39. You can distinguish between the following area codes: 847, 630, 773, 708, 312, & 815. (Northern Suburbs, Western Suburbs, Chicago residential, Southern suburbs, Downtown Chicago business, and close to Chicago suburbs but not quite)
40. You have, at some time in your life, used your furniture...or a friend's body, to guard your parking spot in winter. (An old beat up chair that we kept just for the purpose of saving a space in front of our own house)
41. You respond to the question 'Where are you from?' with a 'side'. Example: 'WestSide,' 'SouthSide' or 'NorthSide'. (My answer is Northwest Side, but you get the idea...)
42. You know the phone number to 'Empire Carpet'! (I thought it was a national franchise. That really makes a comment I left for Katdish really random. COOL! )
43. You know what a 'garache key' is! (hint: you use it to open a garache door. The small one.)







The name of the amusement park was Riverview. My mom still uses the phrase "Like a ride at Riverview!" when we push her wheelchair a little too fast (rock on, mom). Here in Chicago, Riverview the amusement park has been closed for 42 years, but Riverview the legend still lives on.

An Open Letter to KFC

Steph and Candy have requested that I write an open letter to KFC due to the fact that so many of the stores are not honoring the coupons downloaded from Oprah's website. I love my friends, and am happy to oblige. I think I might have gone overboard. Oh well, you can all help me revise it. Won't you?




Dear KFC,
The other day, my momma told me Oprah was giving away free chicken from your franchise. My momma wanted me to download the coupons. She doesn't know what downloading is, but she figured I'd know how to do it. I asked her why, when we like Brown's chicken better. Browns chicken is crispier, with just the right amount of seasoning. They also make better biscuits. I once made a grown man cry for not giving up his mushrooms to me. Yes, not only does Brown's Chicken taste better, as their advertisements claim, but so do their sides. The coleslaw from Brown's is so tasty, block parties have been raided by the police due to violence when the hostess ran out. Okay, that never happened. But it wouldn't surprise me if it did. Mom had a one hundred year old neighbor at one time who loved the stuff, and she was fierce. If she had been a couple of years younger, she may have gotten that last spoonful.
The name Brown's was first on my family's lips whenever food for a party was discussed. In our house, having a taste for Brown's chicken was reason enough to throw a party. Our last party had a sign out front "Happy We Want Fried Mushrooms". Okay, not really. But it could have.
So why did my mother blaspheme by uttering the letters K-F-C? She heard on Oprah that you have come up with something new. Something healthy. Something Oprah was twittering about. My mother has no idea what twittering is, but if Oprah is doing it, it must have something to do with saving the planet from itself, or in this case, deep fried food. And you, KFC, you had the opportunity to be part of it. You, you temptress of chicken appendages, had the opportunity to lure us away from the goodness that is Brown's, in favor of a healthier fare.
But then you dropped the ball. You are not honoring coupons. You have attempted to lure me into your den of chicken iniquity with the promise of free, healthy food, and then pulled back. If you lie about it being free, are you also lying about it being healthy? Yes it may be grilled, but have you purposely grilled it to the point of holding nasty carcinogens, all because of my and my family's preference for Brown's? For shame, KFC, for shame.
I for one was not seduced by your promise of healthy chicken. I did not download your worthless coupons. My husband, genius that he is, was convinced that you would send the chicken flu to my computer. The swine flu is a distraction meant to divert us from this diabolical virus. Obviously you and Oprah are in cahoots to disable my computer. My mac hasn't had a virus yet, and he was not going to give you the opportunity to expose it to coupons from an unknown source.
I should feel glad that I was not tricked. I did not fall under your free chicken spell. But you see, I have friends that did. One of my friend's dog went hungry last night because they were counting on your free chicken coupon to be honored. How do you people live with yourselves? You people disgust me! You are a disgrace to the memory of Colonel Sanders. I hope the chickens come home to roost for you and your organization.
Sincerely,
Helen Moschnossgepup


Dear Brown's Chicken,
I will accept your coupons for anything any day of the week. If you send me some, please see that they are honored. You have no idea how snarky I can get when I'm hungry.
Your ever loyal customer,
Helen Moschnossgepup

Like They Weren't Thinking It Themselves.....

Okay folks, time for another .......




Well, you know how random I get, right? I was thinking about my friend Candace the other day. We call her Candy. Very appropriate, because she is sweet. Not over sweet and sickening, like the cheap stuff you get in the dollar store, but wonderfully sweet, like imported chocolate. Godiva chocolate. Top quality. She is da bomb.
Why I was thinking about her, I can't remember. But her name led me to thinking about the time we had a safety expert come talk to the faculty at my old school during a meeting. The neighborhood had some crime issues, and sometimes we stayed late, so our principal thought the best course of action on this was to keep us late to listen to a safety expert tell us how to remain safe when we are leaving school late. I haven't gotten to the funny part yet. Hang on.
She was blah blahing, and finally said that we should never scream "HELP!" because people will ignore us in order to look out for their own safety. She asked if we knew what to yell in order to get people's attention. No one answered for what seemed like a long time, so I yelled out "FREE CANDY AND BOOZE! FOLLOW ME!".
That was not the right answer. Everyone acted like they weren't thinking it, too, giggling and shaking their heads like I was some sort of an oddball . In case you were wondering, the correct answer is "FIRE!". If you didn't know that, you now have something you can write for Musings of A Housewife's What I Learned this Week blog carnival. See yesterday's post to find her blog.
I still think you would get more attention with "FREE CANDY AND BOOZE!" Oh well. Here's to hoping that none of us ever have to find out.....

My Momma is a Sweetheart

Wow. What did I learn this week? Well, on Saturday, I helped the ICF with their yearly Bingo for the Nursing Home residents near us. ICF collects jewelry, and stuffed animals, and other prizes (decks of cards, baseball caps, t-shirts, all sorts of stuff) to treat them with for prizes. At the end, anyone who didn't win still gets to go to the prize table to pick something from what is left, so no one goes to their room without a gift. Some of the folks were really very nice, others, well, let's just say I don't think my grandma ever heard those words. She was such a sweet woman. Like my momma. My momma couldn't cuss at someone no matter what. Now I could, and have, but I save it for really big things. No, not like dissing my salsa dancing in the supermarket. Even bigger than that. I don't even remember the last time I cussed, so I can't tell you why I did it, but I do know that I am no angel who never uttered anything worse than "GOLLY!". My mother, however, would remind me that if I am thinking of the Lord's name while saying "GOLLY", I am still taking the Lord's name in vain. My point? I learned to appreciate my dear sweet mamma more. Sure, it can be annoying when she reminds me to wear a coat (IN WINTER! IN CHICAGO! LIKE DUH!), or tells me that it is time for me to go to bed, but at least she is annoying in a loving way, and not a hateful way. I really need to appreciate that.
I learned that I really do have it good....
Does learning to appreciate mom count as something I learned this week when we all know darn well that I am going to need to relearn it again in the future? Let's just say it does....

Happy Birthday, Annie K

My friend Annie K at BuzzbyAnnie's is having a birthday today. She really rocks, and I wish her wonderful things. Go ahead and wish her a Happy Birthday. You know you want to...

And I mean it Annie...

I do want you to dance.....
So for my friend who loves all things Mexican, on your birthday and Cinco de Mayo (someone should tell me more about Mr. de Mayo), I give you....LA BAMBAAAAAAA!


For lyrics and their translation, click here.

What Passes For Wisdom

Bob and I went to see "Ghosts of Girlfriends Past" yesterday. I enjoyed it. Yes, it was a "chick flick". I like those. And Bob likes it when I have those "I am so glad you are with me..." moments, so it is kind of win-win. Momma always says that while men may not want their women to be constantly clingy, once in a blue moon helps them feel appreciated.
Anyways, it was a good movie, but it used the quote "Whoever cares the least in a relationship, has the power." I never realized before that that was common advice. A couple of married (oy vey!) female friends gave me that advice when I was engaged to Bob. These were women who were happily married (at the time). I had thought at the time "Eh, who needs power in marriage? I am going to love him with reckless abandon!". And I do. And we are really happy. I am not trying to give anyone a formula for a happy marriage. I know it to be a blessing from God, and I am very grateful. I would say that after salvation, it is the number one blessing in my life that I never want to lose (remember, I don't have kids. I might be tempted to put them before my marriage if I had them, but that is another issue...) I even get how this might be useful in the early stages of dating, when rejection is a very real fear. Who wants to feel rejected and powerless? Ugh! How did we come to this place where people protect their hearts from their own spouses? I asked my husband, and he too was given similar advice "back in the day".
So, I asked my husband who holds the power in our marriage (ie who cares more). He replied "It varies....". Now THAT is a wise answer.
Oh, in case you are wondering, the movie showed the premise the quote in an unfavorable light as well. The moral of the story was....caring is good. Speaking of quotes, who is it that said something about the same stories being told over and over again throughout time? If no one knows, I will just claim that it's me.

Update On Headcheese Truck

It has become obvious from your reactions that you do not like the idea of a headcheese truck. So I give you the new, the improved....


Kiszka (blood sausage) Truck


MMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

Silly Saturday

SCHNITZEL ON A STICK! HA HA HA HA... What crazy food would you put on a stick and ride a truck around the neighborhood selling? Dream big!




I am thinking headcheese....

Singing (or Tweeting) Like Birds (From Kansas)

My friend Katdish did a post today inspired by Twitter," As I am always inspired by my bloggity pals (no, please believe, I am not Heartsie), I decided to do mine about twitter also. But I also hate being a total copy cat. Sooooo.....
To Helen this up a little bit, I thought I would pick a song reminding me of twitter and tweets...Enjoy!


{Refrain
Carry on my wayward son
There'll be peace when you are done
Lay your weary head to rest
Don't you cry no more

Once I rose above the noise and confusion
Just to get a glimpse beyond this illusion
I was soaring ever higher
But I flew too high

Though my eyes could see I still was a blind man
Though my mind could think I still was a mad man
I hear the voices when I'm dreaming
I can hear them say

{Refrain

Masquerading as a man with a reason
My charade is the event of the season
And if I claim to be a wise man, well
It surely means that I don't know

On a stormy sea of moving emotion
Tossed about I'm like a ship on the ocean
I set a course for winds of fortune
But I hear the voices say

{Refrain
No!

Carry on, you will always remember
Carry on, nothing equals the splendor
The center lights around your vanity
But surely heaven waits for you

Carry on my wayward son
There'll be peace when you are done
Lay your weary head to rest
Don't you cry (don't you cry no more)



*********************************************************************************
Okay, so what does this have to do with twitter? Nothing really. I saw this on IronicCatholic today, and have been trying to think of an excuse to post it myself. I LOVE this song! Besides..Katdish tweeted the question who posted today, and I felt guilty.