Friday funny

My Texan girlfriend Melissa was railing on her blog against Hurricane Gustav.

Oh, you are a nasty one, Gustav. And what kind of name is that, anyway? Gustav? Seriously, if you were all that nasty they would have named you Chucky, Freddie, Jason or Cujo. Gustav makes you sound like you are going to hit landfall, break into a rousing rendition of a Walt Disney theme park number and have your shirt unbuttoned down to your navel.

Take THAT Gustav!

Remembering

In Denver, it was 6:46 a.m. when the first plane hit. I was out of the shower listening to my favorite morning show, Dom and Jane. They usually had the Today Show on in their studio and suddenly, they were talking about how a plane inexplicably just flew into one of the buildings.

17 minutes later, the second plane hit. I continued to listen in shock, not turning on the TV for fear I would miss my bus to the office.

Everyone on that bus was talking about what happened. Those who hadn't heard were filled in. Those who had watched news channels that morning relayed the horrific scene in New York.

As soon as I got into the office, I pulled up Mapquest to get a picture of the buildings. The buildings imploded shortly after.

I called my boss, who just the night before had supper with me because he was leaving town to go be with his family. I cooked for him when he had no one else to eat with. I caught him on his cell phone, cruising oblivious down the highway toward Phoenix.

"Turn on your radio, find a talk radio station." We got cut off.

The head honchos at the office determined that we were not fully safe in our office building, being so near one more than 50 stories high. We didn't yet know whether all skyscrapers in the country were being targeted or if the damage was yet complete.

They told us to go home.


So, we did.


Most of us spent the next eleventy hours glued to the television, watching replays of what happened that morning. The planes, the smoke, the fires, the ash, the horror.

This morning, I woke up and looked around my neighborhood. There are flags flying today where there were none yesterday.

I thought about the women who were pregnant at that time, whose babies lost their fathers that day. They'd be in first, maybe second grade this fall.

It was incomprehensible then. And no less so now.

News which made my day

When Handsome and I bought our house, it needed quite a bit of work to make it work for us.

The itty bitty kitchen was very cut off from the itty bitty living room by a 3/4 wall with a barely there window cut out above the sink. The kitchen counters were pomegranate red and the floor was flesh colored. The carpets were dingy and the light fixtures were ghastly.

We worked every night after our "real" jobs for two months straight fixing that house up. We knocked down the wall between the kitchen and living room and made a breakfast bar out of what was left. It opened up the space tremendously.

We built a cabinet to house a double oven given to us by my father-in-law (oh, how I love that double oven!). We purchased new tiles for the kitchen floor, the entryway and bamboo flooring for the living room, hall and office area. While looking into kitchen countertops, we thought that wood would look splendid in the rustic Tuscan kitchen we were creating.

There was a problem. Nobody had wood countertops.

We couldn't find butcher block countertops for as much space as we needed for anything under $1000. We didn't have $1000 to spend on wood, for our counters.

But I was in love with the idea of wood, so we kept searching.

My search led me to IKEA. They had wooden countertops. For much less than $1000. Unfortunately, there are no IKEA stores within 500 miles of our newly remodeled house. Why does Texas have three and California have eight of these stores yet Colorado has NONE? *sigh*

Smack dab in the middle of our remodel project, we took a trip to Montana to celebrate my dad's wife's 60th birthday. The drive up to Montana is never as cool as the drive back, usually because we head up at night and are totally exhausted and then drive all the next day to get to their house. We usually drive up through Wyoming and cut across the vast expanse that is Montana. Sometimes we drive back the same way, varying slightly for sight-seeing purposes. This time, we had a whole house remodel to come home to, so no sight-seeing was in the plan.

However, as we were planning for this trip to Montana, an idea struck.

There was an IKEA not too terribly out of the way back from Montana. You know, in Utah.

Yep, we got our wooden countertops, loaded them up in ol' Ruby (our Jeep Liberty) and drove those 800 miles home with our new finds. Actually, the only way they would fit in Ruby is by laying the passenger seat back and stacking them on top of each other in the vehicle.

Visualize it.

I spent most of the ride home in the back seat, directly behind my awesome chauffer husband.

By the way, those countertops (96 inch long, 26 inch wide) were only $70 a pop! I KNOW!

Soooooo.... the reason for this entire post, besides cementing the memory of redesigning our kitchen and scoring the most awesomest kitchen countertops for a steal is this:

THEY ARE BRINGING IKEA TO DENVER!

I am a happy happy girl! What works for you?

Question about baby showers

My girlfriend is pregnant with number 3. Her eldest, a girl, is 6 and her youngest, a boy, is 3.

I'd like to throw her a shower for number 3. My cohorts are questioning the etiquette.

Do you think it's okay to throw a shower, even if it's just a diaper and onesie thang, for the mom-to-be of number 3?

Me? I like a party! I believe each child's life should be celebrated! I know diapers are expensive! I am positive that this mom-to-be would appreciate the gesture.

Please, weigh in. Thank you!

Quote of the day

Feeling kind of funky today and already arguing with my boss about something that he specifically instructed me to do, which turned out to be wrong instructions...

So, this quote struck me as funny and very apropos:

Whatever you give a woman, she's going to multiply.
If you give her sperm, she'll give you a baby.
If you give her a house, she'll give you a home.
If you give her groceries, she'll give you a meal.
If you give her a smile, she'll give you her heart.
She multiplies and enlarges what is given to her.
So - if you give her any crap, you will receive a ton of sh!t.

Have a glorious day!

What am I doing?

Do you ever have that feeling like you have NO idea what in the world you are doing here? Generally, specifically, physically, metaphysically?

I read something recently that applies just to that feeling.

Christ has no body now on earth but yours; yours are the only hands with which he can do his work; yours are the only feet with which he can go about the world; yours are the only eyes through which his compassion can shine forth upon a troubled world. Christ has no body now on earth but yours. ~St. Teresa of Avila

Now, when that feeling of confusion, hopelessness, or wonder hits you, just remember that you're here for a purpose and you don't have to know what it is.

All you have to do is the best you can at whatever it is, and do it all for the glory of God. That should be enough!

Waxing nostalgic

What has happened to the drive-in movie theaters across the country?

Why do people not think that these icons of Americana are worth saving?

We had a drive in theater about 10 miles down the road from our house. It was old, with two screens, one on each end. You could settle in with the speaker through the window or tune your car's radio to the AM station which broadcasted the sound from the movie you were watching.

They leveled that drive in this year. I hear they are putting up condos in its place.

'Cause that's what we need, more condos.

The number of drive in theaters open in the United States is steadily declining. Only 70% of the drive ins open a decade ago are still in operation. They haven't built a new drive in theater in this country since 2004.

Does this make you as sad as it does me?

We have a recurring party with our friends we lovingly call "Redneck Drive In". This constitutes dragging a big ol' 1970s tv set to the bottom of the driveway and inviting everyone together to watch a movie. We pop popcorn and have a potluck (of course, the beer's usually flowing steadily as well). It's a hoot!

This is already a world where the kids who graduate high school this year don't know that Michael Jackson used to be black. Can't we do something about the fact that they may never visit a drive in theater?