Desert! YUM!
Ok, Dessert! Yum! Well, Pixie Stix are kinda dry like the desert…
Dayum. I’m hungry now! I also need to go to the store, but one should never shop for food while hungry (I buy everything when I do that).
Hello all and hello to all who feel ignored, whoever you are. (hee).
Well. Work was odd–a nurse went home sick at noon, but luckily a nurse was called in to replace her. That made the day good. Yay.
OMG I’m not going to panic news: got an email from my grad school to be (I hope)–they have received NONE of my 1. transcripts 2. references or 3. GRE scores.
AIIIIIGGGGGHHHH. If you heard a loud, screaming call of terror recently, that was me. I have called the GRE (they sent the scores 1/31), Iowa (they sent my transcripts 2/06)–Colorado isn’t awake yet (slackers). I have contacted my references and lit fires under them. It’s all due 3/1, folks. Ayeieieiaiyeiaieiaeieia.
I’ll be in the corner, sucking my thumb. Can someone bring me dinner?
College laundry–it’s a character building exercise–feel the laundry, spats …BE the laundry. (does anyone else see rifty in 20 years, boring his kids with, “when I was in school, I had to lug my dirty clothes down stairs and…”?) 
Go for the candlesticks–they are tres sophisticated, dahling. (how come you can’t get 2 votives?–the votive is cheap!)
What a bummer. I was feeling all better after that stupid bout with the sinus infection, but some of it apparently decided that moving into my chest was a good idea. I don’t know why, my chest isn’t spectacular at all. It’s not even chiseled. Unless you count man boobs as chiseling. If that’s the case, then I’m chisled like a statue.
So now I’m at work and coughing up a lung. Blah. I hope I feel better tomorrow, since that’s when we head off to Vegas. On the plus side, if I’m NOT better, I’ll get to share my sickness with hundres of others, possibly thousands!
welby - Lord of Disease
welby’s new name is Vector.
In a strange, masochistic way, I always liked colds in my chest–I got to feel consumptive and wasting away in a very Camille or Bronte sort of way. Of course, that was back when the world could stop because of a chest cold–now they’re just a nuisance.
I really do need to grocery shopping.
Whenever I’m watching a period film such as Moulin Rouge or Finding Neverland (spoiler tags are still broke, ain’t they?), the moment the heroine coughs, I immediately shout “The Consumption! She’s got the Consumption!”
Of course, not when I’m in the theater, or anything.
But I’m always right, dammit.
Hmmm, guess no one but me thought the idea of manly truck drivers swapping recipes like they were at kaffee klatch was funny.
welby, sorry to hear you’re still feeling poorly. I hope you get to feeling better soon.
Rigs, hang in there; keep lighting fires under various tookuses. Sometimes a girls gotta do, whatta girls’ gotta do.
I am desperately trying to reach my daughter’s advisor. She has a job shadow day coming up which is part of her overall senior culmination project (never mind that she is merely a sophmore now). At any rate, she wants to job shadow someone at a wildlife park but has misplaced the contact information. Arrgh! The job shadow day is 4 March, so that does not give us much time to find an alternate if this doesn’t work.
Well, off to do some more investigating for my RoS.
I thought it was funny. But I’ve got a soft spot for truck drivers because of my one day as a waitress at a truck stop in Mississippi. I was the worst waitress in history, but they all tipped big because they knew I was living out of my car, and one enormous bear of a man patted my hand and said “Remember, darlin’–if’n you’re livin’ out the car, you got to remember to spend every night at a truck rest area. ‘Cause for every sumbitch out there might try to hurt you, there’ll be ten of us comin’ to whup his ass.”
Take a hint from Douglas Adams - Don’t Panic. I had a couple of grad schools email me to let me know they were missing this or that item, usually the official GRE score report, and when they do that, they just want you to get it to them, even if it shows up after whatever deadline. You did the right thing, so stop worrying already. 
And uphill in the snow, both ways, in the pitch black night, with no shoes. And we didn’t have any fancy schmancy AI robot carriers, we had to use our own two hands, and you were lucky if the shirts were dry when you were done. Now git off my synthelawn a’fore I set the robodogs on ya!
You’re right, most seem to be a good breed and will look out for each other as well as those who seem to be having a rough go of it.
My husband was on OTR (over the road) truck driver for a few years. He traveled from one end of the country to another. I spent six weeks on the road with him. I met many interesting and kind people. I also met some not so nice people. But, for the most part, these people would give you the shirts from their backs before watching someone go cold or hungry.
Truckers have a dangerous, lonely job. Things are perhaps somewhat better with advent of OBCs (on board computers) and cell phones, but it’s still a dangerous job. You would be amazed at the number of stupid drivers out there. Sit up in a trucker’s cab someday and watch the stupidity around you. Throw in bad road conditions and you’re in for a very dangerous mix.
My husband is still with the same company he drove for when he an OTR driver, he just drives locally now. We both decided that a pay cut was well worth him being home around his kids and me.
To understand how funny I found the recipe swapping scenario, you would have to know my husband, I guess.
We *could * enter season 3 of “The Next Food Network Star” (they’ve finished taping season 2 already)
I could coach everyone on their on air personalities
I don’t think I have an air personality. I vote o no coaching for me, and I’ll just fade quietly into the background.
Happy Driving Husband’s Birthday, everyone! We’re going out for dinner on Friday with the whole regular pack, and we’ll maybe play drunk screamy pictionary after. Or go out dancing. It’s a Mr. Lissar and Driving Husband party. It’ll be fun.
rigs, deep breathing, and then go kick 'em in the kneecaps.
scout, I’ll ask Mr. Lissar when he wakes up. What would we call you?
Hands? Ha-we didn’t have hands to use! We had to train our toes to clutch the handles of the baskets, and scoot our way to the laundry room. Shirts? What’s a shirt? We counted ourselves lucky if we had a burlap sack to tear a hole in to cover ourselves. These tended to shred in the dryer, so we had to knock other folks over the head and steal their sacks. Life was rough in college in the '80’s, I tell ya. But we knew how to live–we knew how to struggle and by Gum, kids today…there’s no gumption, no inner fortitude. Spoiled brats, everyone…
(I really am going to the store now. Really)
I’m on a roll today! I’ve started two threads (over in IMHO), and I actually did a little work! Go me!
Well at least you had a dryer! We didn’t have a dryer, so who’s spoiled now?
Actually, we really did have a dryer, but my mother was a real penny pincher so our clothes were hung out on the clothes line, even in the winter if the weather was sunny.
Lissla, you set me up, so I’m going to dunk it in.
You can call me whatever you want, but don’t call me late for dinner!
:: rimshot ::
I haven’t read any of this thread, but…
Two nights ago I tried to make spaghetti sauce for the first time. I started with a pot of leftover noodles, threw in two cans of tomato sauce, and added salt, garlic salt, oregano and parsley. First there was too much oregano, so I put in some more tomato juice to water down the spices. But there was still too much, so I added…
…salt.
Bad move. I spent another hour trying to wipe out the taste of the second salt addition, and I couldn’t do it. Otherwise it was actually pretty decent, although I ran out of tomato sauce and ended up switching first to tomato juice and then water.
If anybody makes the waffles, let me know. I’ll be interested in knowing if my results can be duplicated.
On another web site I was on (before it folded) there was a food board and one of the administrators collected all the recipes we posted and created an all-new web site. Last I heard she’d sold the site and now it’s all new and interactive and all professionally looking. Which is weird! There are numerous recipes on there that I contributed, including the Texas Caviar and another that I came up with myself, Southwestern Pasta Salad. (Very yummy. Contains corn, avacaldos, black beans and tomatoes.)
I just got back from spending one of my two mornings a month volunteering in my children’s school’s health room. I’ve been doing it since the beginning of the school year. Eons ago, I was an EMT so I figured I’m at least somewhat trained to work the health room–although mostly Mom Knowledge of Cuts and Boo-Boos is all you need. There are a lot of “my stomach hurts” visits. It’s funny about the regulars, too. Apparently these three or four kids are down there at least once a day! Two of them stopped by today. It’s like I was with the Jehovah’s Witnesses a few years back. I couldn’t stand their propaganda, but the girl was nice and worked in a store I went in a lot, so we were friends and we’d catch up with each other, and then finally, she’d bring out the pamphlet, I’d give her 50 cents and throw it in the trash. But, it was nice seeing her on a regular basis!
I think the truck drivers swapping recipes is funny! You can just see them: wetting pencil with tongue: “Now, is that baking powder or baking soda? … Wait, slow down, Darryl! I cain’t wrat that fast! G’head. Cinnamon? I don’t think I got any a-that at home. Shoot! Now, what was that you were sayin’ about the cake decorating? Uh huh …”
I promise that I won’t tell your friends about the Good Grips peeler that works perfectly in my left hand.
If anyone makes a left-handed lawnmower, my ruse for getting out of yardwork will be killed. Likewise a left-handed dog leash.
If it makes you feel any better, I got a fun letter when I was doing the applying to undergrad schools thing. It went something like (and I’m paraphrasing) this: So, we think we don’t have all of the things on the following list. But we might have them. But we don’t think we do. But we aren’t sure."