Prepping for a 7 year old's slumber party is like preparing for a herd of elephants to come strolling through your living room.

Emily will be 7 on Wednesday.
Ok, I'll spare you. I'll save the traditional "Oh! My baby is getting so big!" moment for another time, but suffice it to say that her birthday marks another event that most parents cringe at.
The Slumber Party.
Basically you get a handful of 7 year old girls, turn them loose on the house and stand back. One tries to remember to put up the flammables and breakables, but you can only do so much.
But the prepping. *sigh* Since I'll be having a handful of children at my house, that in turn means that I will have a handful of parents coming to my house to both drop them off and pick them up. God forbid that I don't start cleaning like a maniac.
Excuse me, I have to clean under my couches.


Letter, Unsent

May 26, 2007

Hello Rose,

I’ve been thinking about you since our encounter at the grocery store after your tumble today. I hope that you were taken good care of at the emergency room and are presently feeling much better. After much thought on the matter, I believe that the good Lord put me there at that time and place so I could help you. My only regret is not meeting your eyes with a smile as you walked in the store; if I had I may have caught you as you fell.

God bless.

I was leaving the grocery store, my head in the clouds, as I pushed my shopping cart toward the automatic doors. I barely registered an old woman entering the store ahead of me, and I didn't meet her eyes as the door swung open. I glanced out toward the parking lot and heard a loud thump to my left. I looked over and the woman was face down on the floor, not moving. I dropped my keys.

I went to her and knelt down, momentarily believing that this woman dropped dead right in front of me. I heard her groan and turn her head. Blood was trickling from her mouth.

People started to mill about, and a woman from the store came to assist us. Gingerly I helped her sit up and then slowly ("...on three!") we lifted her up and moved her to the bench in the store lobby.

Through mouthfuls of blood soaked paper towel (her upper plate had shattered, slicing open her gums) she explained that her name was Rose, that she had just arrived back from Colorado, and Oh, Lord, she had just come in for some ice cream that she wasn't going to be able to get.

I wouldn't leave her until her friend, who was on her way over to take her to the hospital (Rose refused to have an ambulance called) came to get her. I sat there with this woman as a sort of penitence for not preventing her fall. When I finally went home I had Rose's blood on my arm.

I keep thinking about Rose. About how she fared at the hospital. About how I hope the doctors and nurses treated her urgently and with proper respect. I wonder if I'll ever spot her in the grocery store again.

I wrote the letter above not long after I came home from the grocery store that day. I was on an emotional high alert and felt terrible about what had happened. When the store manager had asked Rose for her address she opened up her wallet and I spotted her last name. I found her address in the phone book when I got home. My husband was concerned that someone might interpret the letter as someone looking for a handout for a good deed done. I couldn't let that happen so that letter has been sitting on my computer desk for nearly a month, staring at me.

There's no point in sending the letter out now. I just hope to keep a sharp eye out for her in the store so I can let her know how much that experience changed my life.


Home Treatments

So I need to get some cranberry juice to help clear up a little problem I'm experiencing. *cough* After spending countless minutes in the juice aisle to find a cranberry drink that isn't loaded with junk I finally come across one that promises No Added Sugar. Right up my alley!
So I get my juice home and my mom hooks me up with a drink. Cranberry juice with a splash of cranberry vodka.
I'm feeling better already!


Bits and pieces and lots of faces

An explanation is in order after my last entry. So many of you were kind enough to send me your best wishes and I don't want to mislead anyone. I'm not apathetic about my home or family life at all. In fact, it's quite the contrary. Things are going swimmingly well at home and I couldn't be happier. My real problem is work. There's so much crap going on right now that I just want to show up, do my job and leave. That's it, nothing more, nothing less. It didn't use to be that way. I used to care about stuff around there and now I don't. A friend of mine keeps trying to turn me around, lift my spirits and remind me that I'm a pro at what I do. He's right: I do a damn good job and I'll freely admit that. But my interest has wanned for a lot of reasons and I keep reminding him of that. What weighs heavily on my mind of late is that while I'm desperate to move on from my job, it's still going to be at least a year and a half before I finish school. That's a long time to be stuck in a situation where you've become so apathetic that your entire physical and mental self changes the minute you walk through an office door.

Emily was the only first grader in her school to get over 100 points in her Accelerated Reading program. She finished up the year with 119.5 points and she started late in the year. She got on Wall of Fame! For a little perspective... the girl who finished second behind Emily took in somewhere between 50 & 60 points. That's my girl!

Abby and Jim made chocolate chip cookies yesterday. Thankfully they were much, much better than the chocolate cake.

Speaking of chocolate cake, a lot of folks have inquired about Harley after her dessert. She's completely fine. That does has a cast iron stomach. This is the same dog who chewed up one of my used Intuition razors. Yummy.

By pure chance I came across this website yesterday. Now, I'm not a ringtone nut, but here you can upload any song (for free!) and create your own custom ring tone from it. I customized one for general use, a couple for my friends, and I'm going to upload Scotland the Brave for my mom. I can't wait for people to call me now! Unless it's someone I don't want to talk to...but I'll still enjoy hearing my phone go off.

And finally, what a crock of... well, insert your favorite expletive .


Word of the day

ap·a·thy (āp'ə-thē)
  1. Lack of interest or concern, especially regarding matters of general importance or appeal; indifference.
  2. Lack of emotion or feeling; impassiveness.

Does apathy sneaks up on you or does it stews for a while, a witches brew in the making? To be honest, apathy isn't just my word of the day... we're talking months. In situations where I should care about something I simply don't. And I'm perfectly ok with this fact.

The only thing that worries me is whether or not apathy is close friends with depression. That is one friendship that I don't want to strike up.