Entry for November 30, 2006 - Seeing Double

As usual I am behind in blogging. I was going to post this blog yesterday after our day of fun from the Celebrity look-alike page. Time got away from me and well, I am still in denial about the celebrities chosen as my look-alikes.



I have sat here for awhile, trying to see the correlation between me and the people listed on my last blog. I try and squint harder to see just what it is that the computer program saw to lump me with these certain celebrities. Frowning, I am guessing that maybe, just maybe Art Garfunkel and I have the same hair dresser. Maybe there is a hint of my chin in one of the other celebrity pics....but the Dalai Lama still has me floored. Perhaps I elude a sense of lightness and peace? ....nah...I don't buy that either. Oh well, I do take some comfort in knowing that it was my "fun" avatar pic that I uploaded. I did try the website again with two other "real" pics of me. My top match was with some celebrity I have never heard of, and it was only at 61 percent. There was also a couple of guys, two asians, at a match of around 50 percent and at the very end trailing at 48 percent was.....Shirley Temple.



Shirley Temple? Well that blew any visons of me being a femme fatale, even in my own eyes. I mumbled and grumbled, it wasn't fair! I didn't get any Christie Brinkleys, Raquel Welchs, Jennifer Anistons, or Ashely Judd matches. Even when I was being serious, the joke was on me.....(sigh).



I got to thinking who would I want to be my match? Elizabeth Taylor?...(in her younger years of course)...Sophia Loren?....Catherine Zeta-Jones? Any of them would have been preferrable. I guess I can count myself lucky. It could have been worse. My matches could have been Phyllis Diller, Sigmund Freud, or Winston Churchill. My celebrity matches were never high in the percentage points, so I guess maybe I really don't resemble any particular celebrity....just parts of them... a nose...a chin...a smile...hair...



I have  a friend who has a daughter who looks exactly like Rachel Ray. She  hears that a lot, and I am sure she must grow tired of the comparisons. One of my cousins looks the spitting image of Jennifer Love-Hewitt. It's not fair, to be pretty AND look like a celebrity....(another sigh).



I have a twin brother but we are not identical, we don't even look that much alike. They say however, that somewhere in this world each of us has a twin, someone who looks just like us. I find that both fascinating and a bit creepy. I wonder if their life parallels mine or if they are completely opposite and just look like me.



A couple of years ago, I stopped in at the grocery store after work late at night. It was close to midnight and the store was almost empty. I was walking down the aisle and saw two guys at the end of it. They both had long hair and looked like bikers who had stopped for late night munchies. One of the guys was short, or at least short for a guy. He couldn't have been any taller than me and I am 5'6''. As I opened up the freezer case, I felt him give me a playful punch in the arm...he then grabbed a bottle of ketchup out of my cart and exclaimed..."what are you buying this for?". Before I could mumble, "because I have a coupon",...I saw the dawning in his eyes that I was a case of mistaken identity. He dropped the ketchup and profusely apologized and mentioned he thought I was someone else. I smiled and replied, "no problem". As I went through out the store shopping, I occassionally passed him  in another aisle. He would then apologize over again. I don't think he finished his shopping. He and his friend bolted quickly. As they exited out the door, I heard him say,... "wow she looks just like so and so".



It has happened to me more than once. At a local pizza place, out shopping, even at McDonalds. Someone has walked up to me, started talking and then realized I was not who they thought I was. Hmmm, could it be possible that my "other" twin was out there, and lived just a few miles from me?



Spooky....



I have never come across her though. I wonder if anyone I know has walked up to her and mistook her for me? I don't know what I would do if I came face to face with her. When I think about there being someone out there in this big world of ours that looks exactly like me, the first thing that comes to my mind is....you poor thing... I would then have to break it to her gently about Simon Garfunkel, Andy Warhol,  and the Dalai Lama.



I guess even if I were to look like a big famous celebrity, I would still be me. We would just share common physical characteristics and most likely the comparisons would stop there. I don't have the fame, the fortune, or the glamour of their life. I am just Vic...from Nebraska...with the big hair.



It's enough for me...





...anybody want my autograph?...(wink)

Entry for November 28, 2006 - Celebrity look-alikes...

>".



The Dalai Lama? Good Grief!



Thanks Misty for the fun page of celebrity face recognition from your blog!



I might have to go lie down now.......it's been too traumatic....lol

Entry for November 26, 2006 -Naughty or Nice?

Since Cyn and I have taken our new part time jobs at the North Pole, we have gotten to take a peek at Santa's naughty or nice list. I won't tell you on which side of the list you are on, but I will give you a second chance to redeem yourselves and make it off the naughty list.



Tell me the biggest whopper...um....er.....story of how good you have been this year and the reason why you should be on Santa's NICE list....



The winning entry will get the grand prize of a....



...."Deluxe Pink Sock Puppet"...



Generously donated....(okay it was kinda..um...'borrowed') from Vero...







....let the fibbing begin.....(lol)

Entry for November 24, 2006 - Black Friday

Black Friday....



It's that Friday immediately following Thanksgiving when the official holiday season opens. It is supposedly called Black Friday because it is when those retailers who have been operating in the red all year, suddenly are in the black...making a profit.



I know it is one of the biggest shopping days of the years. People set their alarms clocks at ungodly hours in the morning to rush out and save a few bucks on big tins of popcorn that contains three different varieties,  or to get toys or electrical gadgets, or buy Christmas cards at half price.



I'll admit it, I went shopping. I didn't get up early though, I didn't rush around with a big smile on my face humming Christmas carols.... I was on a mission. This Black Friday was going to have another meaning in my household today.



Last night I had a visitor..... An unwelcome houseguest.... A freeloader...



It was night time, I was settling down from a day of doing nothing particularly exciting or memorable. When "he" arrived... a small dark shadow. I almost missed him, I looked again, was it my imagination? No, I saw him...I saw ......a mouse.



Ohmygosh...a mouse! I haven't seen a mouse in years! Living next to a cornfield on the East side of my place, and an open field on the South side of the house, it isn't unreasonable to expect to see one eventually. I ran for the broom....where did he go? I spied a small bookcase... he had to be behind there...I thrust the broom behind the bookcase......He jumped...I jumped.... he ran...I ran... in the other direction.



Good grief... what a wimp I have become! A mouse... a little mouse, how could it get my heart to racing and send a woman scurring so fast? I peeked back in the room...where was it? I should have stayed and paid attention....but being the chicken that I was...I ran for my life. I mentally told myself, well it could have been rabid. It could have ran up my leg and bit me. It could have have done something ....(don't roll your eyes blog people....it could have!)...



I kept my broom close by all night. I couldn't sleep well...I don't like having unwanted houseguests. It was either me or him...and well, I have got first dibs. I resolved to buy whatever it took to rid me of my unwanted squatter.



I got to thinking, boy, have I gotten wimpy in my old,... um... middle age. It use to be a mouse never would have phased me. I am finding as I get older though, I am getting wimpier, more squeamish, and I am not sure why...and I don't like it.



When I was a little kid around the age of seven, I belonged to a group that was all girls. We once went on a tour of different places to learn about businesses on a type of field trip. Afterwards we all went to the mall to shop before going home. I only bought one thing on that trip. I carried my purchase with me and sat in the middle of the backseat between two other girls on the ride home. There perched on my little knees was my precious cargo. It was a red carboard box with a handle and holes punched in the side. In my box was ....a mouse. I had seen him at the petstore and it was instant chemistry. I wanted to take the mouse home with me, to be my newest and bestest friend and pet. All the way home the woman who was driving the car would yell back,..."you have it in the box don't you? ...keep it in the box and don't open it up!"....I meekly replied..."yes ma'am" as we tried to stifle our giggles while passing the little creature back and forth.



You have to give kudos to my mom. She didn't yell, she didn't faint, ...but she was flabbergasted. Of a family of four kids, three of them being boys, she naturally expected it would be one of my siblings presenting her with a mouse in a cardboard box and not her one and only daughter. My mouse and I were best friends for about 3 weeks and then I lost him.....(uhoh). A year or two later I then was the proud owner of a gerbil. It was a mean gerbil, it bit people, it liked to chew ....a lot. I can't remember what happened to him, but I think my mom claimed he got loose one day and was lost too. It is now dawning on me that maybe my little pets never did get lost and were really..... victims.......Hmmmm... (making a mental note to call and ask mom about that later...)



As I sit here writing my blog, my broom beside me. I find my feet unconsciously curling up under me, up off the floor just thinking about the mouse.



This week-end I will go throughout the whole house, ....not leaving anything unturned or overlooked.



His demise is imminent.



I will take no prisoners.



Yes it is Black Friday....



.....for a mouse.

Entry for November 22, 2006 - "Blog Stuffing"...

".





Twas the Night of Thanksgiving



Twas the night of Thanksgiving,

but I just couldn't sleep

I tried counting backwards,

I tried counting sheep.



The leftovers beckoned--

the dark meat and white,

but I fought the temptation

with all of my might.



Tossing and turning

with anticipation,

the thought of a snack

became infatuation.



So, I raced to the kitchen,

flung open the door

and gazed at the fridge,

full of goodies galore.



I gobbled up turkey

and buttered potatoes,

pickles and carrots,

beans and tomatoes.



I felt myself swelling

so plump and so round,

till all of a sudden

I rose off the ground.



I crashed thru the ceiling,

floating into the sky

With a mouthful of pudding

and a handful of pie.



But, I managed to yell

as I soared past the trees...

happy eating to all--

pass the cranberries,please.







".





The Turkey Shot Out of the Oven

by Jack Prelutsky



The turkey shot out of the oven

and rocketed into the air,

it knocked every plate off the table

and partly demolished a chair.



It richocheted into a corner

and burst with a deafening boom,

and splattered all over the kitchen,

completely obscuring the room.



It stuck to the walls and the windows,

it totally coated the floor,

there was turkey attached to the ceiling

where there'd never been turkey before.



It blanketed every appliance,

It smeared every saucer and bowl,

there wasn't a way I could stop it,

the turkey was out of control.



I scraped and I scrubbed with displeasure,

and thought with chargin as I mopped,

that I would never again stuff a turkey

with popcorn that hadn't been popped.







".





Blessings that Remain

by Annie Johnson Flint



There are loved ones who are missing

From the fireside and the feast;

There are faces that have vanished,

There are voices that have ceased.



But we know they passed forever

From our mortal grief and pain,

And we thank thee O' our Father,

For the blessings that remain.



Thanksgiving, Oh, Thanksgiving,

That their love, once blessed us here,

That so long they walked beside us,

Sharing every smile and tear.



For the joy the past has brought us,

But can never take away,

For the sweet and gracious memories

Growing dearer every day.



For the faith that keeps us patient

Looking at the things unseen,

Knowing Spring shall follow Winter

And the earth again be green.



For the hope of that glad meeting

Far from mortal grief and pain--

We thank thee O our Father,

For the blessings that remain







".





HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

Entry for November 15, 2006 - The Year of the Gravy

Turkey day is coming soon.



I have read blogs on memories and holiday blues. Times are forever changing and those  holiday memories we hold so dear, we try and hold tighter. We know those were precious times we won't get back.



When I was a small kid we always went to my grandparents for Thanksgiving. We would drive forever it seemed before I saw the wooden "Uncle Sam" that held the mail box in front of my grandparent's farm. We went every year without fail, it was tradition, something that grandma expected of us and something we wouldn't dream of missing.



I use to sit in the corner of that big kitchen, watching the hussle and bustle of my aunts and grandmother cooking. The room would be so hot from the oven and morning stove, but I didn't care. I loved to be in there.... Just to listen... I would try to be invisible just to hear the chatter, to hear stories, and the gossip. A few times my grandmother would notice me in the corner with my big eyes and bigger ears and change the subject. I loved to hear her talk, and talk she did, a mile a minute. I never knew anyone like my grandmother. She knew everyone, their history, their family, everything it seemed.



Grandmother didn't have a large house so card tables and tv trays were set up in the living room and back south room. After filling your plate you would have to jostle for a place to sit. The men always went thru line first, loading their plates and grabbing big glasses of ice tea and they would retire to the back room. Their afternoon would be spent playing cards and the only time we heard from them was when they beckoned one of us kids to find mom or one of my aunts for pocket change for their poker games. The cigar and cigarette smoke would hang thick in the air. Sometimes I watched, but I soon grew bored. The kitchen is where I wanted to be.



As I grew older I would get small jobs to do such as stuff the celery with pimento cheese, put the sweet pickles and olives in the fancy glass dishes...and when I was much older, I got to wield the electric knife to carve the ham, turkey, or roast beef that was always on the table.



My grandmother loved to cook. She was a small woman, barely a hundred pounds. Holidays for her meant dessert. Cakes and pies, and cheesecake and cookies and everything imagineable would be crammed atop the chest freezer on the back porch for dessert. I never knew why such a small woman who never seemed to eat a thing, would splurge when it came to dessert. I learned years later when she told of a story when as a child, her mother never made dessert. Times were tough, her mother would only cook the basics. The hired hands that worked on her parents farm would buy a package of cookies every week for their own dessert. They kept those cookies stored high on top the cupboard and would get them down after their evening meal. The men would eat their cookies and give my grandmother one cookie each night. She told us of being that small child and how she looked so forward to that cookie every night. I think thru the years she has tried to make up for it, to satisfy that sweet tooth of that child in her.



One particular Thanksgiving my mom and one of her sisters were at the stove. Stirring and stirring, talking  and doing a hundred things at once. There was some concern over one of the pots on the stove. A serious discussion ensued. Soon the women were all gathered at the stove stirring the pot, much like doctors in consultation of an ailing patient.



There was a small castrophe in the making. It was the gravy....it was lumpy.



They all  looked it over, stirred and stirred  and it still stayed lumpy. Another pan was brought out, more broth added, the gravy grew...and it was still lumpy. Yet another bigger pan came out, someone grabbed a strainer and another pan.



Then it started...the giggles. They stirred and strained and dirtied more pots and pans and laughed uncontrollably. Finally the gravy was contained in very large pot on the stove top. They had done the best they could to save it...save the gravy. Each of my aunts, my mom, and grandmother would walk by, stir it again, look the other in the eye and start to snicker again. They couldn't look at each other, they couldn't look at the gravy, it would start the giggles, uncontrollable giggles. Too many cooks in the kitchen they would say with another giggle.



The men came thru with their plates, if they frowned and commented on the gravy having a lump, the giggles started again. When the gravy was passed, they couldn't pass it across the table with a straight face.



It was the only year that the gravy was lumpy. At different times thru the years, at different dinners, someone will ask for the gravy. It will get passed and my mom and one of her sisters will smile a wry smile and say..."remember the year of the gravy?"...they still snicker and giggle at the mention of gravy at grandma's table.



Many Thanksgivings have come and gone from that particular one. My grandmother is 86 and there won't be many more Thanksgivings in her future. When she is gone, the farmhouse will be bull dozed in. It is too old, needing too many repairs. The house in past years, isn't quite as full as it was when I was a kid. People have passed, relatives have moved, people make other plans. I often think to myself, weren't we the lucky ones? We knew family, we celebrated family, we were thankful. Times change, traditions change, families are scattered far and wide.



Thanksgiving will be celebrated differently from what a lot of us remember growing up as a child. Some will be surrounded by family. Some will eat alone. New tradtions will be made, and old ones will die out quietly. We will all be thankful for what we have now and what we did have in the past.



I hope each and everyone of you will understand what I mean when I say that  my wish for all of  you this Thanksgiving is ...



....lumpy gravy.

Entry for November 09, 2006 - Numbers

Everyone wants to be number one, the top banana. Just the number it's self denotes being the best, the winner. Ask anyone if they would want to be second or even third and they will most likely tell you no.



I chatted with a friend the other day, he had been out to a new place over the week-end and had gone dancing. I asked him if there was any particular girl that had caught his eye while he tripped the light fantastic. He laughed and said ..."no, they were all seconds". I was a bit taken back. I had never heard it said quite so bluntly.



That surprised me,... it really surprised me. I know the male species (and female for that matter!) are visually oriented. I came away from that conversation feeling a little bit different about my friend because of that comment made, even in jest it didn't set well with me.



Buffy and I have an ongoing gag, vieing for favortism of a mutual chat friend of ours. Buffy claims to be number one, his favorite chat friend, and that I am but a distant second. I just let her THINK that, but we know differently don't we Mr. Momuleskinner....(wink, wink).



No one wants to be considered a second. I thought of how there has always been a class system. The uppercrust, the middle class, and those considered even lower. If you ask most people, they will put themselves in the middle class when it comes to financial consideration. The only time when most will admit to being second.



I have a niece born with a very rare disease. It came as a complete surprise to her parents and her doctors as well. It was a fluke. A single recessive gene that had to be carried by both parents. In her short life so far, she has had more surgeries than most will have in their entire lifetime. I worry about her future. Will those that come across her, think of her as a "second"?



Second...It never really has had much of a positive connotation. Second place, second rate, second hand, second choice, second thought, ...all of them meaning not quite good enough, not what you initially desired.



I got to thinking of my friend's comment. Was it the fact that he had said it to begin with, or the fact that at some time in our lives we have all felt that way?  That someone we have come across in our lives, was a "second"?  How many times have we made a quick assumption and dismissed someone, or blindly passed by not really seeing them? Perhaps it wasn't my friend that had left me unsettled with his comment....but that it was me. He just put into words what so many of us may unconsciously feel but not say.



It's been awhile ago, but one evening I found myself in my usual chat room haunt. It was a slow night, and into the room came two male chatters who I have always considered the two biggest flirts of the room.  I am not exactly a femme fatale, but I was confident I could match their comments, their seductive lines with a volly of flirtatious banter. I was prepared. I would take them both on....I was for the most part, the only available female  in that room at such an opportunistic time. I flipped my pink beehived hair back and mentally whispered...."bring it on boys".



Imagine my shock when after the usual perfunctory greetings, the two men joked and bantered between themselves. It then hit me....there I was with the two biggest male flirts in the room....and I had managed to turn them gay....good grief! Flirt number one and flirt number two had left me a distant third. What a blow to my ego.



Few good things are associated with being second,...second to none, second chance,... not very many that comes to my mind when I think about it. So I asked myself, what is it to be? What do you think of yourself? What would be my "label"? ...a first?....a second?....a third?....maybe even a fourth?



I thought about it a moment and decided I am.... a second. I choose to be a second. Not to be humble or anything of that nature, but to me, being a second means... there is room for improvement. I think all of us have room for improvement.



When you think about it, who would want to be a first...be number one... anyways? After all, when you look at being a number one, there is only one way to go...and that is down.

Entry for November 02, 2006 - Faster...

What in the world happened to October? It's already the 2nd of November and I wonder who stole those days that I seem to have lost. I was going to do a Halloween blog. I was going to make a gaphic of me in a halloween costume, post fun and creepy links, quizzes, and all things Halloweenish. I know I could have made a blog anytime that month on Halloween, but I wanted to wait...wait for that day, it had to be THAT day, and wouldn't you know it.....THAT day came and went. My graphic only got halfway finished, I got distracted, waylaid, ....just busy, and before I knew it was the day of Halloween. I mentally kicked myself and told myself quietly...



"Blog faster....blog faster"...



Every morning I try and get up and get the mundane things of life out of the way before logging on to my blog page. By then you have all come and gone and had a party and all sorts of things. I must be so slow. I blog from page to page and by the time I stop in at everyone on my friend's list (that keep a current blog), it's been about an hour. It takes even longer if you have written a blog and I stop to read it and the comments and then post a comment as well. Yesterday I read a blog and thought and thought on it. I wanted to compose my thoughts into a reasonably intelligent comment, and well....I had to go and just come back to it at a later time. It only added to my blogging minutes. I hate when you have something to say but just can't figure out how you want to say it. Time flies by and before I know it, even more blogs have been posted....



"Blog faster...blog faster"...



Last night I logged on after 10 p.m. I chatted a bit in messenger to an old chat friend who had told me she had spent over 450 dollars to find out her pet bird had a cold. I was thinking for that price it should have come stuffed and served with caviar and a red wine sauce, but I consoled her and listened to her other problems of other pets on medications, a pet that got sprayed by a skunk, and a cat that was hacking up something unintelligible. Before I knew it, it was half past midnight and I still hadn't written a new blog entry or visited everyone's page.



"Blog faster...blog faster"...



I got a message from someone yesterday, apologizing that they had forgotten to leave a comment on my page. They didn't want me to feel bad that I had been left out inadvertantly. I assured them my world would not come crashing to an end and that I wasn't slighted or keeping score. Comments are nice, I enjoy them, but I am realistic in knowing that time is short and blog time seems even shorter most days. I won't be offended if you don't stop. I am glad when you do, but I won't be miffed or hurt if your day is short or if you have nothing to say. I have those days too.



"Blog faster...blog faster"...



I read on a blog that someone is getting broadband and they hope that will help speed up their blogging. I got my broadband modem in the mail and haven't rushed to hook it up yet. Part of me wants to hook it up right this very minute. A bigger part of me is afraid I will blow up something or mess up some computer settings, something that will keep me from blogging on and get me even more behind.



I read a blog from someone on how they were changing the content of their blog. Nothing political, nothing religious, nothing of controversy. I thought to myself....he's done it! He has made a neutral blog...he has become Switzerland. I don't know if I could do that though, refrain from all things controversial. It's not that I like drama, far from it. But some days, some days I think or hear something and want to put in my own two cents worth.



"Blog faster...blog faster"...



In the past few days I have seen some pilgrims and turkeys, and someone even left a comment on Christmas carols.... I feel behind before I even log on here to write a blog. I had a couple of ideas for blogs, and I don't know if the moment has passed for them, but I will keep them in the back of my mind along with other half-baked ideas or thoughts that have yet to come to fruition.



 I read a blog this past week of a guy who wanted to be "one of the herd". He didn't want to stick out or be singled out. I thought that a bit ironic, most people want to be popular and have lots of attention. There are many days I read interesting blogs on happenings in other peoples lives, trips they are taking, places they are going, things they are doing, and I start to get that feeling..............gosh I am boring.



There I have said it...



What all of us fear the most....... boring life equals boring blog....or vice versa...



I enjoy blogging...reading your blogs. They make me laugh, they make me smile, they make me think.

I guess that is all they were originally meant to do.......



Some of us aren't going to have exciting things to write about.



Some of us are just leading quiet lives...



....and it's some of those blogs that I enjoy reading  the most.







Blog faster...blog faster....



...there is a lot to see and read out there....