January 2006 Archives
I'm having a lot of squirrely dreams lately.
The other night I woke Erik at four because I was dreaming that we were at a Wierd Al Yankovic concert, and there were dancing gingerbread men all around us in a yellow room, making me dizzy.
This morning I awoke early, after thinking I was in North Dakota, and the streets were flooded. I was driving, and instead of turning down a street, accidentally drove my truck into the Missouri River. Fast fwd to the next dream, where I was building a handicap-accessible house with a huge window facing west, for sunset enjoyment purposes.
I need a vacation. Think I'm gonna book a cruise.
I am just dying to go back to work. I am sick, sick, sick of these four walls. Who was it who told me this was a 24-hour thing?
I'm praying for rain to fall and the wind to calm. Everything is burning here.
Hundreds of acres burned 18 miles west of my town today.
The other day, some mental giant ignored the Comal County burn ban, and burned some trash in his front yard, setting off a brush fire that ignited 300 acres. If everybody in this world would just do what they are supposed to do, we would have no problems.
My heart just aches for that 89-year-old bed-ridden woman west of Fort Worth who burned to death inside of her home the other day, because no one was around to help her get out.
Today was "Burnt Orange Day" at work, because UT is playing in the Rose Bowl. I consider myself as much a Texan as the next, but I do not own anything in that hue (and I mean I don't have ANYTHING that color).
I just wore a college sweatshirt of my own choosing. I have a plethora of NDSU Bison shirts. And I wore my college jeans.
Oh, baby, life is so good.
We used to have one of those supernifty yellow ribbon "Support Our Troops" magnets on the back of the truck, and now, there is a clean spot in the dust on the tailgate where the magnet used to be. Yep. Gotta wash my truck, I know, but it's a little dry in this area right now. Maybe it'll rain heavy one of these nights, and I'll go out in the driveway and soap it up.
Out for dinner the other night, in a parking lot, saw a bumper sticker with a similar yellow ribbon, with a big red circle around it and a slash through it.
You've GOT to be a special kind of stupid to sport that. Support the troops, for crying out loud. So, being a soldier's daughter, I called my dad immediately to tell him I love him and was thinking of him and that I was willing to find that car again and tell the driver what up.
"No," Dad reminded me. "He's entitled to his opinion. Even if he's a jackass. This is America."
My dad is sooo levelheaded. And I am soooo not.
When I was madmadMAD at my biological father when I was little, he would tell me, "It's okay to be angry right now, but don't close the door."
