Sense
It is amazing how much the sense of smell has to do with memories. Certain smells instantly transport me to other times in my life.
Certain Rose scents make me think of a home that I lived in when I was younger, about 3 or so. I find myself back at the front door, making my way into the kitchen.
Spearmint lip-gloss… I am in grade school, rolling the sticky substance on my lips at recess.
Herbal Essence shampoo… I am again doing the autopsy on the girl with the beautiful freshly washed hair.
And there is that cologne. The cologne that will always make me think of him. The him that made me love cologne, the him I once wanted more than life itself. I’m again 16.
Quote of the Day
Wow, that bowel appropriately smells like ass.
Watching...
A man driving up I-5 lifting 10lb weights. First working his left arm... then his right. Hey, what else is there to do in rush hour traffic.
Booger Boy
Last night I noticed a big brown booger in Finns nose... I did everything I could to get it out, but little boys do not want their mommies picking at their noses. I thought it would eventually make its way out. This morning it was still there... after a huge fight, I finally got it out. It wasn't a booger. It was a raisin. Yes, Finn had a raisin stuck in his nose since yesterday sometime... wow I am really good at this parenting thing.
O-K-L-A-H-O-M-A Oklahoma!
Early this morning I got the phone call that my Oklahoma grandma died. I will be leaving tomorrow morning with my mom to attend the service my grandma preplanned. I'm glad I was able to make it out there with Finn earlier in the year before she got really sick... allowing Finn the opportunity to meet his Oklahoma great-grandma.
Watching...
A woman sitting in her car that is lying on the ground- probably due to the fact that all four tires and wheels have been taken off. Of course it is the first spot in the whole lot... the spot that everyone walks by... hundreds of people... staring...
Happy Birthday Finn!
Happy Birthday Finn! You are 1… how could it be possible. Watching you grow this past year has been amazing. You are now a full-fledged toddler, singing, dancing, and talking. Thank you for everything you have done for my life… thank you for the kisses, hugs, smiles, and laughter. Happy Birthday Big Boy, I love you now and forever.
Shopping at Nordstrom
While trying on shoes, I asked for a 9 1/2… because that’s my size. When the shoes don’t fit, the wrong reaction- “you aren’t a 9 1/2, you are like a 10 1/2 don’t you think?” (All said with a look of disgust). IT WAS THE SHOES! My feet are not that big, and even if they were, WRONG reaction my friend… sell many shoes do you?
Watching...
a one legged man slowly bicycling down the road with his artificial leg in his saddle pack.
Thinking...
You know you work in Pathology when you make sure to wash your hands BEFORE you go to the bathroom, not just after.
Thinking...
You know those days when everything you touch goes to shit? Want to know what's worse... when your coworker is having one of those days.
No Shirts, No Teeth... you are at the fair.
Going to the fair is always an experience. So many farm animals, 4-H exhibits, and locals to view. The best people watching is done on the last open day... I'm sure the half price entry tickets have a bit to do with that. This was the first trip to the fair for Finn, so there was much excitement over the cows, pigs, and ducks. Luckily when a one-year-old child gets caught staring at the toothless-shirtless local, trying to figure out if he can pet them, they just return his interest with a big gummy smile and assume he must be captivated by their fair-going enthusiasm... It has to be hard for a one-year-old to distinguish between the critters IN the fair, and the critters AT the fair.
Dreamy
I was in a house that had no furniture. E.P. was there which is odd because I haven't seen him since high school. We were laying on the floor together and I was trying to hit on him, big time. He was in his usual state of hotness, perfect fitting jeans, white t-shirt... but there seemed to be something wrong. Perhaps it was the plastic bag sticking out of the back of his jeans. There was also a faint smell of urine. This is when I realized he was wearing a homemade diaper. What really says it all... I kept hitting on him, plastic bag diaper and all.
Sorry no can do.
Why do people try to argue with me when they know there is nothing I can do. I am only following the LAW. I am sorry if you want me to do something ILLEGAL for you... a person I have only talked to on the phone, someone that has been nothing but rude to me. I will still be polite to you, and repeatedly tell you sorry there is nothing I can do, it is the law... I can't give you confidential information on your wife's ex-husband. IT IS THE FUCKING LAW ALREADY GET OFF MY BACK!