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Showing posts from May 3, 2009

Not Just A Mom

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A Mom A woman named Emily renewing her drivers license at the County Clerks office was asked by the woman recorder to state her occupation. She hesitated, uncertain how to classify herself. "What I mean is," explained the recorder, "do you have a job, or are you just a ….? "Of course I have a job," snapped Emily. "I’m a Mom." "We don’t list ‘Mom’ as an occupation…. ‘house wife covers it," said the recorder emphatically. I forgot all about her story until one day I found myself in the same situation, this time at our own Town Hall. The Clerk was obviously a career woman, poised, efficient, and possessed of a high sounding title like "Town Registrar" or "Official Interrogator." "What is your occupation?" she probed. What made me say it, I do not know… The words simply popped out. "I’m a Research Associate in the field of Child Development and Human Relations." The clerk paused, bal

I Have A Question

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Usually I reserve this category for things that just make you go "DUH!" but I think it is fair as well as reasonable, to add things in it that make you go, "hmmmm." Tonight my oldest is having a friend over. I remember those days. I always had a blast. I don't remember it being so noisy when it was me though. At any rate, a sleepover requires some kind of tasty treat so I decided to make a cake. The only problem was I didn't have any ready made frosting. This actually kind of humorous in that I insist on homemade everything--my mother has ruined me. Meaning she always cooked from scratch and I want that same kind of food. I digress. For some strange reason, I always cheat and buy the store bought frosting. It's not like it is hard to make. And it's probably cheaper, not to mention it plain tastes better. Well, I needed canned milk and I didn't have any so I got some from my mom. I asked my sister how she made her chocolate frosting,

The Chronicles of Lourie

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I thought I would star something new in the blog. I have emails that date all the way back to 2003. Why do I keep them? Because it is a journal of sorts. It's fun to go back and see what kind of trouble I was stirring up. If my memory will serve me--yeah right--I am going to attempt to post one a week so as not to overwhelm. So without any further ado, I would like to introduce The Chronicles of Lourie . Today's entry is from May 20, 2003. Kristin was in kindergarten and Ryan wasn't even thought of. This afternoon, I went as usual, to pick Kristin up from school. You know the drill...get in the car, start the car, drive the same route as always...I got as far as the corner, and what do you think I saw right there in the middle of the road? A turtle! He was about five inches in diameter. Just minding his own business. Sunning. Until....I jumped out of the car and rescued the unsuspecting critter from certain doom! He got scared. His little feet were

Riding on Coattails

I am going to ride on the coattails of some of my fellow bloggers and insert a video I find quite funny. It stars Paul Lynde and Elizabeth Montgomery. They were both very talented actors, but to see her in this rather ungraceful manner brought out her talent as a comedic actress. It takes place at The Palace in Hollywood and they are doing a dramatic reading from Macbeth. Hilarity ensues! Too bad we don't have television like this anymore!

A Root Canal

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"Root canal" are not the words one wants to hear, especially if those words were proceeded by, "You need a..." I had to face the music today. About three weeks ago I had to get a crown done. Having been through it once before I at least knew what to expect. That didn't make it any easier. I am not the best dental patient to begin with. I think however, my dentist and now endodontist would strongly disagree. I am very compliant. Why wouldn't I be? After all they are putting hooks and drills into your mouth. You bet your sweet bippy I am compliant! Inside however, I am struggling and fighting the urge to bolt and runaway saying, "I'm out of here!" I have never had a root canal. I am happy about that. I don't do well with the unknown. It's that whole lack of control. How long will it take? Will I feel pain? Will the sounds of drills and other instruments drive me to the edge of insanity? I said I was not a good patient!