Wednesday, September 29, 2004


Last night was the 24th Annual Cans Film Festival supporting the Oregon Food Bank. I am surprised each year by the minimal number of people that show up to this event. This year was actually the biggest crowd I have seen over the last three years that we have attended. Last year they pulled in just under 125,000 lbs of food, so I am curious to hear what this year brought.

Although the evening is a good family event, it can get rather chaotic with everyone rushing around and from the long commission stand lines blocking the thoroughfares.

One of my complaints is the clogged lines of people waiting for free popcorn and other treats. I would think that Regal Cinemas would by now (I mean this is year 24) have thought up a faster and more effective system for getting people through the lines to their seats before the movie is half over.

Here is my solution: #1 Pre-bag the popcorn. Is that just Too Simple of an Idea or what?
#2 Select 1 line for free popcorn and hand it out assembly-line style.

Anyone wanting to buy other snack foods should have their own line. In addition, they should NOT have the option for butter on the free popcorn. IT is after all FREE. If you absolutely must have that salty, artery-clogging butter on your popcorn, then you may stand in the snack line with your popcorn, and wait your turn. There are just too many people to serve on free movie and popcorn night to handle them as on regular movie night. That's all for my opinion.

Thursday, September 23, 2004


I watched the premier of The Batchelor last night. Talk about a waste of time. Of course, what television isn't. This week I didn't watch it over at my grandma's because she is up visiting my mom in Washington. Anywho, next week, I'll have to see what grams thinks of it this time.

There is just something disturbing about a bunch of women fighting over one guy and then thinking that they have "some connection" with him - yea missies, I'll let you in on a little secret - about that "connection" . . . it has absolutely nothing to do with anything long term. Yes he wants you. For one steamy night, that is. Good luck to you all. I'm sure they will all get what they came for, a little tv spotlight action. Here's to true love and not giving up hope. Yea sure, whatever!

Tuesday, September 21, 2004

I Miss You

My heart is a canvas that you painted black as coal,
soaked in ice and burned with cruelty.
It is over - us.
Me, I am just beginning again.
Living forward. Healing with scars
Trying to forget.
I admit, I am an obsessive, compulsive clean-freak! I should have learned by now that being a single mom of 3 teenage boys and being an obsessive, compulsive clean-freak are not compatible traits for one person to have.

Nevertheless, I still hold out hope every night on my drive home from work that I will walk through my front door to find a calm, organized, non-sticky, free-from-dirty-dishes, pillows- where-I-left-them, sock-free living room. HA! Gotcha again.

So, one would wonder (I know my sons do) why it upsets me so much to come home each night to the same inevitable mix of chaos that greets me each night, inside my home sweet home. Its not like I don't prepare myself during the 30 minute drive from my work to my home to expect the worse.

Oh, but I do. I tell myself, nothing could be worse than last night when I came home to find the half eaton carton of ice cream left out in the living room, melting in pools over my Better Homes & Gardens magazine, dripping down the table onto the carpet below. Or last week when I discoverd the lid to the frog tank missing, all four frogs unaccounted for and our cat anxiously hovering around the room.

The ultimate test of my sanity was once (again with the frogs) a bucket the boys had filled with at least 40 tiny, baby frogs, tipped over in the car on a return trip from the lake. I was still finding them hopping around the car a week later.

Probably though, my greatest obsession is with the bathroom - the one and only bathroom we have. The words boys and bathroom, together, can only bring to mind horrific visions of unspeakable atrocities. Go ahead, imagine it - - had enough? So it was last night that I encountered a freak moment of gross. Tired after a long day at work, and being a Monday, it was definitely bath night. I gathered together my bath pillow, candles, bath bubbles and prepared myself for a moment of relaxation. I fixed my drink, got my book and locked the door. As I pulled back the shower curtain to start the hot water, my eyes gazed upon... [Pshyco sound effects go here]

...A huge, green, slimy, gloppy BOOGAR!!
Setting aside my bath bubbles, I instead grab the disinfectant spray and do what I do best, clean, clean, clean.

Tonight, I will drive home, thinking, it can't get any worse. Prepared, that's me.

Friday, September 17, 2004


I went over to my grandma's for dinner last night, as I do every week as I have for the last couple of years, ever since my grandpa died. I started going over every week when we both discovered that we were both addicted to watching the Batchelor (Trista & Ryan), and so a ritual began. The rest of the family thinks were both nuts (we are). Regardless, nothing interfers with our weekly get togethers. So, last night, grandma wanted me to go down in the basement with her to retrieve an old answering machine she believes she remembers she saw down there somewhere over the years because she wants to give it to my cousin, Alli, who is going away to college this weekend. Well, thats all fine. So, we found the answering machine in a bag behind some old dishes. Unfortunately, on the way up the stairs we both saw a four foot area of 2-inch deep water in the back corner. Arghhh, what the? We both agreed that it must have been there a while since one of the cabinet doors was warped with water damage. Just one more hassle we didn't need. Of course, Grandma, always positive, points out that at least this is very small compared with the devastation people are facing in Florida. That being said, we thought about that for a bit and went back upstairs with the answering machine.

Grandma decided to test out the answering machine so we plugged it in and she took out her cell phone. She then asked me what the number was for the machine. I looked at her puzzled, at first, but then I understood what she meant. Oh my god, grandma! Its plugged into your house, so its your number - ohhhh. lol. (Hey grandma, lets bring up the old radios from the basement and listen to old radio stations) So, grandma dialed the number and we waited for the machine to pick up. This is the part when I wasn't thinking, AT ALL!!!! All of a sudden, we both heard a familiar voice. It was Grandpa, who died 2 years ago. "Hello, this is Roy, I'm unable to come to the phone right now (literally) but leave a msg and we'll call you back." I about died! I looked at my grandma, and she had this glimmer in her eye. Then she said, "Well, Allie (my cousin) can't have this now because I'm going to keep it for my phone." "NO! Grandma." I said. "You just can't do that!!!" No, no, no, NO! Oh yes, she told me. "Yep, that's what I'm going to do." Oh my god, I was thinking. Now the family is really going to think we're nuts. When I said goodnight to grandma, she was sitting by the phone dialing the number again.

I'll be going back over tonight to clean up the water and listen to some old radio stations.