Friday Fun- Just a Little Something I Would Like To Get Off My Chest...

As I mentioned on Monday, I'm running a marathon in October. I've been training since June. That's a lot of running if you're figuring 4 runs a week. I run early in the morning so that I can run on the road (the shoulder or the bike lane). As I've explained before, the asphalt is much easier on your knees and hips than cement. I do take the sidewalk if the traffic gets heavy. I'm not dangerous about it. And most everyone I see in the morning is absolutely wonderful.  Most people will go out of their way to give me room, or cheer me as they pass or give a friendly wave. It's really nice! But some people believe it is their job  DUTY to tell me where I may and may not run. Since they have the pleasure of getting to yell at me and lecture me and make numerous amounts of gestures at me without ever waiting around for my reply, I'm taking liberty to tell them now (because, you know, I'm SURE they subscribe to my blog and all).  


 Dear Mom with Your Middle School Boy Scout- please teach your Scout not to yell out the window at me. It's very unScoutlike. And contrary to what you both thought, just because I have ear buds in, doesn't mean my iPod is actually ON or that I have it up too loud. Yes, I heard him when he called me stupid runner. Maybe he needs to review that whole "polite and character" thing in the Scout Promise. Yeah, my boy's in scouting too....


 Dear Cigarette Smoker- It's just not nice to toss your butts out the window. Especially if you happen to be passing me or I you. You may not like that I'm running in the road, but at 6 AM, and the fact that there's 5 lanes and no traffic, I'm sure you could find another place to throw your butts than at me. Thanks!


 Dear Cranky Critiquer- You shouldn't be out driving before having coffee. Coffee makes you nicer. Promise. 


And my absolute favorite:


Dear Musclebound Guy Driving the Ridiculously Unnecessary for West County Red Hummer- My mother taught me to play nice and share. I know that can be hard, having such a huge, pristine, not one speck of dirt on it SUV, but let's make a deal. You don't try to intimidate me with your size and yelling at me about where I need to be running, and I won't tell you to get a Smart Car. 


Yours, gearing up for my Saturday Run,


Melissa

ACRONYMS CAN BE TRICKY!

Although I know that my sister, Margee, will be a little upset with me for posting her little mishap on my blog, I just can’t resist! After all, what are sisters for, anyway?

Margee loves to volunteer. So her job this week at her daughter’s middle school, Parkway South, was to send out email reminders to parents about their upcoming parent/teacher conferences. Simple enough, right? Except that the acronym that Parkway South Middle School uses is PSM, not PMS!

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!

And she STILL didn’t get it, even when a mother emailed her back and asked her if this reminder was in regards to a follow up appointment! (I guess she thought the email was from her OB/GYN!)

It took one of her friends, who happened to be on her email list, to point it out to her!

Yep, gotta be careful with acronyms!

Aren’t sisters fun?

Karen

Monday Madness- I've Been Holding It In

In a moment of challenge by species of the Y Chromosome Factor, I decided that yes, I could, especially as a woman, run a marathon. Oh- you know the moment. It's when a couple of the Y Species are talking amongst themselves and you happen to join the conversation because, well, you're standing there, and being married to one of the Y Species, you add to the conversation and get The Look. The Sigh follows along with a Roll Of The Eyes to the other Y Species involved in the conversation and then comes The Patronizing Reply. 


You know- the reply that is lined with the "That's really sweet that you want to play along but you really don't know what you're talking about and there's no way you could ever begin to complete that challenge."


Consider the gauntlet thrown.

Heck, forget the gauntlet. I'm talking hockey mitts and pulling jerseys over the head. If there's one thing that gets under my skin it's when a Y Species implies I can't because my extra body parts are located somewhere other than my nether region~ as if THAT should make me less than anything. 


So come October 23rd, barring any unforeseen injury, I will be completing the inaugural St. Louis Rock-n-Roll Marathon. It's making the Y Species to which I married take a whole new look at me (which I admit, is kinda nice). 


And I don't have to win it, I just have to finish.


I'm a month out and my next long run is 21-22 miles. I'm praying it all comes together. Because I just couldn't take it if the Y Species could smirk at me forever. 


Yours, loving the 5:30 AM wake up run,


Melissa

Friday Funny- Hey Lady! Did You Know...?

As an alum, The Hubs is a huge Mizzou Fan. In the words of Z2,"You have to know, he takes being a Mizzou Fan very seriously." So seriously, in fact, that my car has a Tiger Tail. I've resigned myself to it. I've thought about tying some purple ribbon on it (Go Wildcats!), but I know it would not be worth the heck I'd get for it. And actually, during football season, having the tail hang out of my trunk makes it supremely easy to find my car in the parking lot, which admittedly is NOT one of my strengths. 
Usually, we get some honks, or a toddler will pass by the car in amazement, believing there really IS a tiger in the trunk. The wonderment on their faces is priceless. Being close to St. Louis, where there are a plethora of Mizzou grads (we're only 1 1/2 hours away from Mizzou), people are accustomed to seeing things like this. But this September, it seems to have caused quite a stir. 


I've been flagged down on the highway.


Stopped in parking lots.


Had numerous people try to get my attention with different gestures. (I'm choosing to believe those gestures were signs of support).


Most recently, I had a man stop me in the parking lot as I'm trying to get home early one morning from an emergency milk run. 


"Excuse me, ma'am," he said in his thick, East Indies accent,"Do you know you have a tail hanging out of your trunk?"


"Mmhmm," I reply. "It's supposed to be there."


"Supposed to be there? You mean, you WANT it hanging out of the trunk?"


"Yes, I do. My husband is a Tigers fan," I explain.


"A Tiger fan? Why would you want a tail hanging out of the trunk?" he asked.


"Uhm, you know... Mizzou... Go Tigers!... Mizzou-rah?"


He looked at me like I was nuts. I decided to go with it. Wanting to get out of the conversation and get home without being thought of as rude, I looked him dead in the eye and said," Honestly, it's the only way I can control the tiger. If I open the trunk, he'll jump out and then, well, where will we be?"


He backed away, I got in my car and made it home in time to feed my kids breakfast before school. 


Yours, rooting for the Tigers (unless they're playing K-State),

Melissa

I NEED TO BE TREATED LIKE A TECHNO IDIOT PLEASE!

When Customer Service Representatives in technical positions over the phone get their training, the first lesson they should learn is to treat the caller like an idiot. Respectfully. No, really! Hear me out. They should (respectfully) ask if the computer/TV/phone/whatever is plugged in/turned on/whatever.

Okay, my problem with my cell phone wasn’t quite so simple, but still, I went through FIVE (count them…FIVE) techs over a course of THREE days before one of them asked a very simple question that solved my problem in an instant: Is your software set up?

All I was trying to do was download software so I could sync my Outlook contacts and calendar with my phone. I downloaded it fine, my phone found it fine, but it wouldn’t sync. Every tech I talked to had a different suggestion. All the way to RESETTING MY PHONE TO FACTORY DEFAULTS. Have you ever done that? Do you know what a pain that is to reset everything to how you want it??????? HUGE pain!

THEN, the 4th tech I talked to said they were coming out with a new release of the software the very next day to fix all these problems that people were having. REALLY? Couldn’t the other people I talked to have told me that BEFORE I RESET MY PHONE?

But alas, even that didn’t fix it. So when I called back, the nice man I talked to asked what I was looking at on my computer screen. When I told him, he gently told me I hadn’t set the program up yet, which would explain why it wasn’t syncing yet.

PEOPLE…DO NOT ASSUME I KNOW AS MUCH AS YOU!!! Do not assume I even know enough to set up my software. Not one of you told me I had to do that, even after walking me through installation. TREAT ME LIKE THE IDIOT THAT I AM!!! (Just be gentle and respectful about it please!)

Yes, it works great now! Yes, if I could have reached through the telephone and given that 5th tech a big sloppy kiss, I would have! And yes, if I could fly to where ever that call center is and kick the butts of the other 4 reps, I would!

Karen

Monday Madness- I Have No Words For This...

I have a very dear friend named Jenny. She's one of my best friends from high school. We met on the first day of freshman year and have been friends ever since. Jenny is one of those naturally good people- not perfect, but pretty close. She's not had the easiest life, but has always kept hope through everything. This latest round, though, leaves us all speechless. Frankly, I'm devastated for her and her husband, Mike. Here's the concise version of their story, as her sister has written it:

Mike and Jenny wanted a child more than anything. Jenny had cancer two times in her twenties, and although she’s been cancer-free for many years, she was left unable to conceive.

     Mike and Jenny decided it was time to adopt.  They found an adoption agency, and started the process.  They were hand-chosen by a birth mother, and they decided to continue the process.  Mike and Jenny passed all the requirements to adopt, and baby Jonah was born in April in another state—as healthy and perfect as can be.  Mike and Jenny were there for the whole thing and they were able to complete the adoption process and come home to Missouri.

     The Agency had to contact the birth father and give him the right to contest the adoption.  He took his right, and proved paternity with a test. 

The birth father is in prison, in another state and was able to be given free legal support.         

     He Skyped his way into his trial from his orange jumpsuit in prison.  The birth father is in prison for kidnapping, and beating the birth mother while pregnant, and other things, including drugs and non-support of other children.  The jurors were not informed he was in prison, or that it was an adoption situation.   With the small amount of facts they had, they decided that the birth father was “FIT”. 

     Mike and Jenny may lose the baby to a dangerous man.  Baby Jonah has never had any other parents except Mike and Jenny.  Mike and Jenny have put every penny they have into the adoption, including selling a car, and other items.  They are past their budget for this.  Now, they need to hire attorneys to fight to keep baby Jonah in their safe, loving care and away from a violent, drug-using convict. Not only do they have to foot the bill for their own legal fees, but they are told they could possibly have to cover the birth father’s legal expenses as well. 

UNBELIEVABLE, isn't it? What's up in the state of Louisiana? I mean, if I was on a jury, and I saw a man being skyped in to the courtroom wearing an orange jumpsuit, wouldn't I have some questions about WHY he looked like he was in prison uniform? Especially if it was MY TAXES paying for this man's trial? Every time I read the above paragraph, I almost vomit. Literally. Baby Jonah is beautiful and happy and thriving and to think that he might have to go back to a less than ideal environment is incomprehensible. 

Her sister has set up a Paypal Donations Account called "Save Baby Andrews" at wittierthanu@aol.com    NO pressure, but if you feel moved to do something and are able, I know they would really appreciate it. I know what I'll be getting them for Christmas this year...

Yours, praying for Baby Jonah,

Melissa

Friday Funny- In Which I Wear It Like a Three Star General

I had been telling her I was going to do it, threatening my vengeance for nearly six months now. I'm all about second chances and third chances and such. But I could bear it no longer. So I finally made good on my threat and followed through.

You see, my Z1 is a bit of a, well, she's free with her belongings. That means wherever she happens to be is where her stuff will land. And if she's finished with it, it does not follow her into the next room. It RARELY makes it up to her bedroom to be out away. Not without some "strong encouragement" (yelling) anyway.

So I hit my limit this past week and walked into her room with a bag. I filled the bag and had to go back to the kitchen for another one. Anything that was on the floor or in a cluttery pile went into the bag. Purple feather boa? Check. Chloe, her American Girl doll? Yep. Half her socks? Mmhmm. A myriad of stickers, pens and assorted paper goods? Those almost made the real trash, but I managed to restrain myself.

She came home from school and I said not a word. We walked upstairs, both of us to our own rooms. As she was walking she looked at me and said,"I know, I know... I REALLY need to clean my room." She got to her room and let out a squeal of surprise and exclaimed,"Wow, Mom! You cleaned my room for me!"

"Yes I did, Baby, " I replied, not letting on to anything.

It wasn't until about 3 hours later I heard a,"Hey Mom, have you seen my such and such?"

"Yep. I have it."

"Great. Where is it? I'll go get it."

"Uhm, no. It's mine now. You'll need to earn it back," I said calmly.

"WHAAATTT?????!!!" She freaked. Her little legs went into a flurry as she ran up to her room and began a staunch inventory process. Oh the wailing and cries of despair! I remained unmoved.

After explaining how she would earn all of her items back, she was still dumbfounded. "Even my clothes?" she asked. "What will I do if you take all of my clothes?"

"I guess you'll be going to school naked. And winter's coming, so I suggest we break this habit during September and not December,"I stated dryly.

"That's... that's just... oooooooo that's mean!!!" she wailed.

"That's right, dear. Mean I am. Mean I will be. But I will not be your maid." I am now officially a "Mean Mom".

Guess where I'm heading with a bag this afternoon.... Giggling all the way. :)

Yours, wishing you a cleaning free weekend,

Melissa