annieology

This country was built on the blood of men and women who were hungry for freedom.  Who gave up everything they knew and loved, for hope.

My grandfather’s parents left their country with money gifted them by family at their wedding.  A family who wanted to give the young couple something they didn’t have.   The young couple left friends and family, trading the familiar for an unknown future.  Their ship run aground off the coast of New York.  What little they brought had to be left behind.  They arrived in this country with the clothes on their backs and each other.  And hope.

Their son fought in World War One.  Putting his life on the line for his unborn children to have the future his parents had sacrificed for.

The father of my mother fought in World War Two.  Was wounded in action.  And yet years later, and this time leaving a family behind, he went to Korea.  Knowing the dangers he faced, he went to fight for freedom.  His son would go to Vietnam.  His son would be wounded. For the right to be free.

The blood of my family has been spilled for this country.  Sacrifice has been made for me. For freedom.  For a better life.   A freedom and life that we all benefit from.

When blood is shed a covenant is formed.  Between  man and  woman.  Between  mother and child.  Between men and country.  A covenant entrusted to me.  One I have not had to make, but one I will honor.  I honor my husband not by the covenant of blood, but because of our willingness to sacrifice.  A covenant not born of blood with half of my children, but a sacrifice I make of my todays for their tomorrows.   And to honor those who have died for my country, I will take to the polls so that we will not need to take to the streets.

And yet, we whine.

Because we have to pay for health care.  Why shouldn’t we?

We want a someone to pay us a decent wage.  Forgetting that we have every opportunity to earn one.

The men and women who have given their lives for this country did not do so for us settle.  We cannot work for the minimum and earn the maximum.   You want more?  Go out and get it.

Despite what you hear on the evening news, our country is favored in most parts of the world.  I encountered a man from Mexico, this week, who left his family at 18 to come here to fight along side our men and women.  To fight for freedom. Ours.  His.   To fight for the opportunity to give his family more than he had.   A sacrifice that is lost on many of our own youth.

Remember, this weekend is INDEPENDENCE Day.  It is not dependence day.  This country does not exist for your benefit.  You benefit because this country exists.

It’ll be better.

It started out as….

Bitch, please, you’re a socialist.

I changed it A LOT!

I think I would have lost a few new people.  Possibly some old ones. And for certain a Facebook friend would have been forced to unfriend me, as this stems from a thread fight between her spouse and myself.

Read it.  Feel free to disagree.  Freedom grants you that right.  I’m a bit passionate about freedom.  Spending the last 5.5 years enslaved to the ding dang government has totally pushed me over the edge.  I will complain about $72 cough medicine, and $80 eye drops, but will not choose free care over freedom.

This morning’s post is not ready for publication.  Have an excellent post written.  It’s waiting editorial review.  Fresh eyes after reflection. Restraint is not my strong suit.  I’m exercising some now.  It’s painful.  I’ll get back to with the results.

There may or may not be a post published later.   In fact, I think it will need some major revision.  Yet, it’s political, and the editor loves political.  But it may not be nice.  But it may not matter.

I would so like to publish it.  Anyway, like I said, I’ll let you know.

This is my new business card.

For a business that doesn’t exist.

But I think it’s awesome!

I also got it in purple.

No, this is not your sign to return to the mother ship.  Did anyone see Close Encounters?  Does anyone remember it?  I told you to go and watch it.  People started having visions of The Devil’s Tower and then felt compelled to get there, and they all turned out to be aliens or something.  I don’t know.  I don’t remember.

I grew up with this in my back yard.  Relatively speaking.  It was about an hours drive from my house.  And my parents loved to take us there.

I once walked from about where this picture was taken up to the monument with my grandma.  She didn’t particularly enjoy it, seems about half way there I decided I was afraid of heights.  Since everyone else had driven, she had no choice but to drag me up with her.  I wonder why she never took me again.  Mysteries from my youth.

Anyway, around the base of the monument is a trail, approximately 1.2 miles long.  My parents, hereafter referred to as the evil genius’s would “race” us around.  We would run around that thing and catch up to them and they’d have only gone like 1/16 of a mile.  Losers.  But then they’d get all cocky and challenge us again.  They had to repave the path annually just from the seven of us running around it.  Unfortunately, I was embarassingly old when I finally figured out that they were on a romantic walk while simultaneously trying to kill their children.  Don’t worry, I’m sure we were safe, it was the 70s and there weren’t any pedophiles yet.

And if you are getting all warm and fuzzy about the greenness you see.  Don’t.  You know the band Green Day?  I think they may secretly be from Wyoming.  I’d suggest you Google it, but they probably deny the fact.  Who else could know about the green day that happens but once a year there?

And if that wasn’t enough about my youth, this picture is courtesy of Sadie who took it on her family outing there.  She still lives there.  Apparently she must like her family.  Don’t worry that mine will be offended, they neither read me nor like me, so it’s ok.  Well, some of them read me, but they agree we are a screwed up bunch.  Comes from being mislead as youth.  (See paragraph four).   Anyway, Sadie was nice enough to give this to me, I think she takes great pictures.

That picture feels like home to me.

Worms on Wednesday?  I don’t know, this is a post about worms.  Just wanted to make that clear, in case anyone might me eating or not like worms.  People, I listen.

The worms are moving.  As you may recall I have a three bin system.  The middle bin holds the worms, the top up until now has been housing extra material for composting.  The bottom is where the liquid by product goes.  Well, this morning, when I went to add more material.  I decided to move the worms.  The material is getting so fine that it is falling to the bottom bin and clogging up the spigot.  So, I moved the middle, worm bin, to the top. Shredded the former top bin, placed it in the middle and added the new material there.  I then dumped the worms that were hanging in the very bottom bin, the the new bin, with the new material, which I had soaked with worm tea.   So, the worms that are in the top bin, should migrate to the middle bin and in a couple of weeks we’ll have fully composted compost.  Woot!

Now, for pictures.  And good news for you non-Kindle readers.  This one is just for you.  The pictures look horrible on the Kindle.

Compost Before

8 Weeks Later

One of many worm parties

But look at that dirt.  Doesn’t it look great?  No, it doesn’t stink, and I’m going to be leaving it in the bin til it dries out a bit, hopefully avoiding the early earthiness in the new bin.

So, the worms that are in the top bin, will be able to migrate to the middle bin in search of food.  When they are all gone, I will pick out the bigger pieces of material that they didn’t go through.  Egg shells don’t disappear, but there were lots of reproduction going on in the shells, so we’ll add those in to the mix still.  For some reason, potatoes did not fare well, Neither cooked nor raw.  If I mixed the potatoes with other vegetable scraps and let them decompose to the point of liquid then added it it was fine, but I don’t know if I want a vegetable soup brewing all the time.  Anyway, fun times, and I cannot wait until I get to use the dirt.

I am living the dream.  Kids always in bed dreaming of sugar plums at a reasonable hour, me always dressed to the nines.  Well, tick tock, time ran out last night.  Midnight.  Well, if I were in Cuba, which I’m not, but around midnight Cuba time, Felpsy presented with a FEVER.  The second I put it in his mouth it shot up to over 100.  Knowing time was running out on Urgent Care, I said if it goes over 103 we’re going to Urgent Care.  It stopped at 102.9 – my sign from the universe that he was OK and that no trip was needed.  He was properly administered Motrin according to packaging directions and the dosage was properly logged on his medication log.  Half an hour later, his fever was down to under 102 – the Motrin was working.

At exactly four seconds after Urgent Care closed, Felpsy appeared before me again.  One hour after the administration of a fever reducing medication.  This time his fever read 103.6 Now the only thing that needs to be that high is a radio station.  But, as I mentioned, Urgent Care was now closed and my only option was the Medicaid Emergency Room.  Translation: 6 hours.  I had a regularly scheduled pediatrician appointment at 9:00 this morning.  Not for Felpsy, but for the twins.  We would have a tag along.  9 hours possibly sleeping vs 6 hours of not sleeping, it was a no brainer.

I administered some “may cause drowsiness” medication, again properly documenting it for the state.  And he finally fell asleep.  He was in and out of it for the next four hours fever eventually breaking around 3:00 this morning.

At 8:00 I was awaken by my “Good morning you awesome woman you” alarm and decided that it would not be three kids but four going to the doctor.  Radical was coughing for the third straight morning.  Of course the doctor’s office doesn’t answer the phones until 9:00 – our appointment time – so it was a surprise.  But when they saw our motely crew coming in, they didn’t make a fuss.

Dr. W.  has been our pediatrician since I found him during an emergency situation near the start of our fostering career.  This morning I took in four kids, two without appointments.  We left our house at 8:45 and were home by 10:15 – I love that about him.  The other thing I love about him is that he’s not medcentric.  All the kids have coughs, all the kids have had fevers.  He ordered one blood test to see if it was a virus as he believes it is.  If it turns out to be something it will likely be the same thing in all of them, if it is a virus, he won’t bother with the antibiotics, we’ll just wait it out.  And I didn’t have to wait for lab test with four very sick kids, just the sickest of them all, who wasn’t going to put up much of a fight.

So, I was trying to explain to the nurse which kid had which problem and when we first noticed it, the worst it got in each of them, and blah blah blah.  Boog has been on steroids at this point for five days, it’s true about the steroids, hyperactive rage.  Fun times.  Only to be topped by trying to explain to the Polish is my first language receptionist the nuances between the FSA and the HRA.  I was unsuccessful.  They charged me for Radical’s appointment, and since I can barely explain the HRA to English is my first language people, I agreed to pay for the appointment out of pocket.  Buuuut, they don’t take cash or debit/credit cards.  Who writes checks anymore?  I hadn’t brought any with me.  So I promised to bring them back a check.   (No disrespect intended by the language barriers – these people went to medical school twice and speak three languages that I know of – I totally respect them, it’s just that sometimes there are issues)

As an aside, while we were waiting, a man was there with his very new baby.  Mrs. Dr. W was discussing things with him, he explained that he was from Mexico, but came to America when he turned 18 to join the armed forces to go fight terrorists with us.  Figuring it was his sacrifice that would help better not only this country, but his family.  So very thankful that his daughter was born an American and the opportunities that she would have for that simple fact.   Drs. W are from Poland and it was nice to hear what people who didn’t have the same opportunity that I had, really truly appreciate it like I cannot understand.  I LOVE America, but I don’t necessarily have all the facts.

So, we are home, and medicated, and sleeping.  I’ve been sterilizing the place, and super dosing with Vitamin C and Coke.  I may go and take a nap.

It only took four years and four months, but we are finally, officially part of the case that involves the children we’ve been raising all this time.  Don’t even come back with the 15/22 rule, it wasn’t followed.  Don’t tell me that kids aren’t supposed to spend four years in foster care.  I know this.  Don’t ask me if the kids have an attorney, they do.  On paper.  We’ve never seen him, nor have we spoken to him.  Don’t worry about us, we’re just the ones RAISING THE CHILDREN.  Four years and four months.  Even after we hired an attorney to “speed things up” it took eleven months.

OK, I exaggerated a bit.  We joined the case on the 22nd at 5:00 p.m. Central Time.  At which time we instructed our attorney to send the letter.   It took a week to write this….

Dear Mama:

I represent Mr. and Mrs. Awesome, the foster parents of Felpsy, Princess and Booger.  As you know the Awesomes have provided a loving, secure home for the children since they have been in their care.

They fully understand the problems you face that leave you unable to care and provide for the children.  Fortunately, the children are happy, healthy and well adjusted.  The Awesomes love the children very much and would like to make them a permanent part of their family through adoption.

I know your primary concern is for your childrens’ well being.  I think the Awesomes have shown you over the last four years the type of parents they are and will continue to be for the children.

I would like to propose that you voluntarily terminate your parental rights and that we negotiate the terms of an open adoption that would allow you to see the children in the future.  Please give me a call so we can discuss this matter.  Our toll free phone number is 1-800-alright already.

And so, it is out there in the universe.  Just waiting for a response.  If all else fails, we can wait some more on the state.  They scheduled court for late October.  If things go “as planned” we would be able to finalize the adoption in no less than ten months from now.  I hope Mama responds to the letter.  I do not want to put up with the foster care crap for another ten months.

I’m seriously considering not turning in anymore paperwork. Not attending any more training.  Letting them in once a month to make sure I haven’t sold the kids and then telling them to throw a frisbee the rest of the time.  Let them take me to court.  Let them answer as to why the heck the kids have been in care for four years.  Why their siblings are coming up on five years in care.  They ain’t taking the kids, we’re legally attached now, of course they could argue that us letting our license lapse would be just cause, I think a reasonable judge might hold their feet to the fire a bit.  I’m just sick of it all.

I hate every aspect of my job.  I think it affects my parenting.  Not positively.  I question the doctor as to the necessity of three separate medications multiple times a day, but I’m more worried about the boat load of paperwork that amount of medicine would generate, not the long term affects on the child.  Oh, I’m worried about the affects on the child, but my primary concern is to get out of the visit with as little EXTRA work as possible.  Especially when I’m dealing with sick kids who are already zapping it out of me.

I probably won’t stop doing the right thing.  Because I do the right thing. But I really don’t want to anymore.

Sexy Sadie, my real life bestie got herself a blog.  Put down the coffee and get on over there.  She makes me PIMP, (I don’t know if that’s taken yet, but it’s Pee In My Pants.)  Let’s start using it shall we?

OK the Activia Yogurt commercials where Jamie Lee asks some chic why she tried Activia and the chic says “I like yogurt.”  Really, this is your big break and all you can come up with is “I like yogurt”?  Annoying!!!

The two bathtub impotency medicine commercials.  Really, how are you filling those up?  Are you using water from the hose?  Isn’t it cold?  Or are you and your impotent old self schlepping five gallon buckets of warm water out from the house?  I’m not in that “chapter of life” yet, but man I’m not wasting time schlepping water in from the house, when I have actual water IN the house.  I guess they could be sitting in empty tubs, wouldn’t that be comfy?  I find it annoying!

Why is it that the radio station jingles haven’t changed since the 80s?  Annoying!

I heard an ad where a particular business specialized in FOUR things.  I think you can rule out specializing.  You can claim to be GOOD at many things, even GREAT at many things, but you can only SPECIALIZE in one.  If we are all special then no one is.  Annoying!

Kate saying she worked hard at her marriage.  Annoying!

When the DVR cuts off the last sentence of a show.  Annoying!

Oh, I could go on, but that would be Annoying!

I used the Google again.  Wanted to see if there was something out there I might be missing when hiring a housekeeper.  Know what I found out?  Apparently, according to the Google, is that you should “clean before they arrive” one lady suggests about 2 hours of “tidying” so as to make the housekeepers job easier.

All at once….

WE THROW FRISBEES?

Why the hell would I hire a housekeeper if I was going to spend 2 hours cleaning up for her?  I can see doing some things, like 15 loads of laundry for her to fold and put away (which I hate, the folding and the putting away), but they seriously suggest that I clean for a housekeeper. Hell, next I’m going to hire a chef and do all the cooking.

You want to know  how I’m hiring my housekeeper?   Have potential housekeepers come over.  Those who aren’t scared away immediately can stay and make lots of money doing ALL the cleaning that I need done for the day.  If there are dishes to be done, she’ll do them, laundry, same. There will be sweeping and mopping done by the housekeeper.  If something needs to be picked up, I expect her to pick it up and put it away.  Don’t give me this internet crap that if I hire someone to mop then I must first sweep.  NO.  Not buying it.

Now, I’m no tyrant.  I won’t be asking anything weird.  I’m talking sweeping, mopping, dusting, running the Hoover, I cannot for the life of me spell the V word.  You don’t have to go into Big Boy’s room, or Brasso the stripper pole, just the “normal” stuff that I can’t find time to do myself.  (just kidding about the stripper pole, as far as you know)

So, that’s my contribution to the Google today.  Polluting the valid information on hiring help.

Just watched “Jon and Kate Take the Kids Out For a Nice Lunch” won’t the kids be pissed when they find out that it was to commemorate the dissolution of their family.

Well, they certainly all looked cute.

Today was a BAD day.

Really BAD.

Like, grab the kids and run to the hills with your ready bag and your stash of food bad.

You don’t have a ready bag and a stash of food?

You need to get one.

Bad days are not an if they are a when.

Some of the things that one might say that would indicate that they are having a bad day.

• I’m going to the store for some chocolate.
• I’m going to the store for booze.
• I’m having a bad day.
• Shut the frick up.
• Seriously, you’re still talking?  Why are you still talking?
• What part of “don’t put the chocolate in the bag” did you not understand?

Well, you get the idea.

Some of the high/lowlights of my day.

• Mrs. “You don’t have enough toys for the kids/their rooms are cluttered” caseworker stopped by.  Really?  Which is it?  Because either they don’t have enough or they have too much, they can’t have both.  If their rooms are cluttered might it be that they have too many to take care of?  Maybe?
• Roland told her the story of the low lying tree over our play structure that scratched his arm all up.  Did she happen to look and see if there was indeed a low lying branch over the play structure?  No, just asked if we were going to get it trimmed.  Um, yeah, point out that low lying branch and I’ll be sure to cut it off.  Oh wait, there isn’t one.  You might ask what the boy was really doing.
• Hubby and I are fighting and neither of us are sure over what.   Either way, not having a topic is counter productive to making your point.
• Saw a man in a Smart Car.  I use the term “man” loosely.  I wanted to say “The Shriner’s called and said to meet up for the parade at 8:00 on Saturday.”  Not saying that Shriner’s aren’t men, they are and they do good work, they just know that ridiculous cars are for parades.  When there isn’t a parade they prefer to use a real car.

Before you go all crazy about my dislike of the environment, hold up.  I love the environment.  I have worms in my kitchen.  I’m just saying men shouldn’t drive Smart Cars or Mini Coopers, unless they are taking them in for repair for their 16 year old daughter.

OK, seems I’ve made plenty of friends today.  Remember to email me with your address to get on my Christmas card list.

And why aren’t you doing it now?

The query was posed this morning at church.  Maybe the money isn’t the goal, but the money would allow you to pursue the goal.  Hmmm?  More on that another time.

My goals aren’t lofty.  If I had a million dollars, I would hire a housekeeper.  Why aren’t I doing that now?  Because I haven’t found a decent, legal one.

So, if you can help a girl out, let me know.  I don’t want one that needs me to tell them what to do.  If I knew what to do, I would do it.  I just don’t have that gene.  I don’t know what to do.  Basically, I want someone who I can tell to come over and clean, and they come over, and they clean and I don’t have to worry.  That’s what I want.

I’m hoping it costs less than one million dollars.

You know that contest I’m in where yesterday I was neck and neck with Vagina (who turns out is a man, crushing all my preconceptions) and Poop?  I’m feeling a little bitter about the whole thing.  While being funny and informative is AWESOME, I also wanted to be nominated in all other categories.

As far as I know, I was only nominated in one other category.  Cleanest.  (Thank you new reader Mountain Momma, I hope you enjoyed your trip and you didn’t kill your husband when you got home) I didn’t make the cut.  While one could argue that I may not be the cleanest cleanest I don’t see how you can wholeheartedly not allow me to be in the contest when my most viewed post is entitled “Spring Cleaning” and a post written almost entirely about cleaning.  Most viewed by like 50% more than the next closest contender.

Not me and my cigarette bumming incident or any other thing funny or informative.  Anyway, I’ll leave you to your voting and link reading.  Don’t forget to vote.  And your funny and informative tid bit of the day thanks to Grace. In Montana it is illegal to play “folf” in the dark.  Hubby, who is avid in disc golf, it’s disc golf people, and I were discussing the possible reasons for this.  I think it’s bears, and Hubby couldn’t disagree.

I said my next post would be an homage to Target Pharmacy.  But they didn’t have my medication needs.  I will instead rant about that and the choice to go to Walgreen’s.

Many of you are aware of my real last name.  But for the sake of argument and posting, we’ll say my last name is Jones.  Also for the sake of argument, we’ll say that half of the many small children have the last name Smith.

Hubby was out disc golfing and offered to retrieve the prescription from Walgreen’s on the way home.  Upon arrival he asked for the prescription under our last name of Jones, then corrected himself and said Smith.  Now, I do this all the time, because it hardly ever comes up, the last name of our children.  Walgreen’s couldn’t find it.  They looked everywhere, called other stores, blah blah blah.  No scrip.

He came home, I called asked for it, they said “yep it’s ready.”  I asked what the problem was ten minutes ago, they had no recollection of any problem finding a prescription then put me on hold and came back with the lame story of “oh he asked for the name Jones Smith.  We couldn’t find the scrip under the  first name Jones last name Smith.”

Ya’ll are freakin idiots.  Just sayin’.

Our lovely representatives in Washington introduced the Cap and Trade bill in the middle of the night that.

The Wall Street Journal says

Americans should know that those Members who vote for this climate bill are voting for what is likely to be the biggest tax in American history. Even Democrats can’t repeal that reality.

And we were on Amazon buying up all the Michael Jackson memorabilia we could get our hands on.  Call me a cynic, but you want to pass some bad legislation, do it at 3:00 a.m. the morning after the King dies.  It will go by unnoticed.  It’ll take years for the costs to trickle down.  By the year 2035 it will cost the average American family nearly $7,000 per year.  But who cares MJ is dead?

Unfortunately Farrah Fawcett had the misfortune of dieing on the same day.  Immediately relegated below the fold.

I’m putting my Representatives phone numbers in my speed dial.  I’m going to start bugging them incessantly.  Not that it will do any good.  My Representative has been there about 200 years, it sucks.  He could give a rats behind about what we think.  Not that my Senators are any better.  Both served with Moses I believe.  They are on the other side, couldn’t give a rats behind what we here at home want, but whatever the mighty leader says, we do.  Then we complain about it.  “Hey man, you voted for it.”

In happier news….

You can read me on you Kindle.  (I need to get me a Kindle – happy birthday to me?)  I already got my anniversary present.  Can you believe that next week will be our 11th anniversary?  Eleven years?  Who knew people stayed married that long any more.  Who knew I’d be so stinking happy?

I unknowingly “Poked” myself on Facebook.  I don’t know how that happened.  I got a notification that “You have been poked by Annie, would you like to return the poke?”  Now, one of the early Facebook rules established by me, was that I do not accept “pokes” by anyone other than Hubby.  I also, seems only fair, only “poke” him.  It’s worked well.  Then, I “poked” myself.  Of course I felt compelled to pose the question on Facebook, where my “friends” were nice enough to remind me that thing the nuns cautioned us about “poking” ourselves.   Luckily, I had a post LASIK eye exam already scheduled, and can assure you all that no permanent damage has been sustained by any poking.

Two weeks out, and I’m still not used to seeing.  Love it.  Not used to it.

BlogHer ads went up last Thursday.  What they don’t tell you is that most of the ad impressions are their own and they don’t pay for those.  Oh well, it’s definitely the cool kids table of the mommy blogging world, and seems to be generating some traffic.  I made the short list twice already.  Under each ad they list four blogs worth reading.  Mine has made it twice.

I’m revisiting the idea of the “Awesomeness Conference” won’t be anything swanky like the “New Kids On The Block Cruise” or anything.  But if any of you want to spend a week in Vegas with me lounging by the pool, let me know.  Also, please indicate if you might actually be able to go.  Of course, who wouldn’t want to spend a week lounging by the pool in Vegas with me, but I need numbers.  Sadie is coming.  Can’t wait to see Sadie, and catch up.  Although, due to blogging regulations imposed to my by BlogHer ads, I can no longer blog about getting VIP’d at Wolfgang Puck restaurants.  Not that I’m VIP’d because I’m a blogger that get’s 12 hits day from mostly family members;) but because Hubby’s brother is a Wolfgang Puck VP.  Anyway, Awesomeness Conference will be Awesome, let me know.

I got the most rocking purple shoes EVER.  I will be sure to post a picture of their sexiness if I can contort myself in such a way as to show you.  I also hope that Min’s creepy foot stalker is in prison…  (Need to investigate turning of the image availability.)  Although, I posted several of my tattoo pictures and they are the most searched for thing on the ol’ blog.  Of course people who search “boob tattoo” are going to show up here because I talk about boobs and I talk about tattoos, but sadly people, there are no “boob tattoos” here.

Anyway, allergy season is in full force.  Boog, the Princess an myself all have allergy induced asthma and I need to go to Target and get medication.  Let me just say that my next post will be a homage to Target Pharmacy and their packaging.  I love it.  Especially loved it when I had a housefull of kids on meds.  No, three people on maintenance meds do not count here.   Love it.

Watching live TV.  I know.  Why?  Use the durn DVR.  Turns out I haven’t recorded that many compelling shows.  So I’m watching Bob Saget.  I know. Compelling, not exactly.

But anyway, I’ve seen three commercials with Brooke Shields so far, and we are only 16 minutes in.  Colgate, Latisse, (I think it’s Latisse, but it grows eyelashes), and VW Van.  What gives?  Doesn’t she also have a tv show?

I’m glad there is a child star that isn’t completely whack.

Just wondering how much her shoes cost, and why she needs at least four jobs.

“Annie are your OK?  Are you OK Annie?  Annie are you OK?  Are you OK Annie?

That’s so funny, I’ve never heard that ever before.

That song is where I started hating Michael Jackson.  OK, I never actually hated him.  I just felt bad for him.  So completely incomplete, despite all the world had to offer.  He wasn’t even happy in his own skin.

When I was a kid we had two channels.  TWO.   And neither of those were the station that carried Friday Night Videos.  So, the night of the big Thriller video premier on Friday Night Videos that started at 10:30 I believe.  We had to go to my Grandmother’s house, that had cable.  She lived nearly an hour away.   Just so we could be among the first to watch it.  My brother was the music fan of our family.  The rest of us enjoyed it, but my brother LOVED it.  I know I’m one of three people in the world who was amused by Ishtar, but that was my brother and his friend Rob.  Sometimes I think I might go look up that movie so I can relive it, but I think we’ll leave it as a happy memory.

We stayed at Grandma’s until the Thriller video came on, not realizing it would be 23 minutes long and not the first thing they played that night.  Yikes, luckily we were young, and it was Friday night.  Although I’m quite sure Grandma thought we were crazy watching zombies dancing in the streets.

I hope that Michael finds in death what he was unable to find in life.  Peace.

Wow, this blog is now producing more money than ever before.  In addition to the the twenty cents a day that I get from Blogher ads, I am now on Kindle, (in 48-72 hours if blog appears as submitted{meaning you better not have added porn since you applied})  and that will be bringing me in one whole cent per subscriber PER DAY.  Yes, for those of you who were “educated” by the gov’ment that is 21 cents per day.  I’m adding it to the truckloads of cash I get from foster care. ***Update, I’m live now. Got double the going rate.  $1.99/month means two cents per subscriber)

You cannot even calculate the exponential increase in income over this time last week.  Which, by the way, was zero.

Seriously though, very happy.  It’s not about the money, I enjoy doing it.  If you learn nothing else learn this, never follow money, money will follow you if you let it.

So, thank you loyal readers.  Welcome new readers.  I certainly hope you enjoy yourself here as much as I do.