S4_Divas's BlackPlanet.com Personal Page

I followed this link from a "last 5 users" list in my site counter. (Fifth House) Just. Look.

*roflmao*

Writing Successes: Well, I thought about it. Does that count? No? Must be the blog then.

Music Playing: Alanis Morrisette, but it's ending. It should switch over to Loreena McKennitt here in a second.

Exerpt from "...And You Think You've Got It Bad"

One Always Displays Lady-Like Delicacy - You are woman by birth, but you earn the finest name of all, a lady, because of your tact and good manners. Many ladies wonder, should I shake hands, bow or smile when I meet a gentlemen in the street. The answer to this is simple, bow reseverdly with fine dignity. One always displays lady-like delicacy. A true lady must remember that when a lady ceases to be lady-like she injures the manners of her husband or her son, and if she be single, casts reflections on her father and mother and gives her lover a right to treat her with disrespect. A lady does not have to communicate with words. She has a bright light in her eyes, a colour in her face and a smile which is a greeting of the heart. She appears to make the stars brighter, the sun to shine and the flowers to bloom.

WOW! First, I'd like to point out that I'm taking this from the book. The phrasing and spelling aren't mine. My favorite part of this paragraph is actually where it remarks that a lady's ill manners give her "lover" the right to treat her with disrespect. Talk about a blanket statement! Disrespect can come in a lot of forms. No wonder beatings were a daily part of life for these poor girls. Stand on your feet or use the wrong fork and *pow*! But hey, it all works out....a true lady makes the stars brighter, the sun shine, and the flowers bloom. Must be one around here somewhere.

So, I have a fairly gross story for today. The only person I told was Sal, my husband, and the kid who was my witness. Okay, it's not that gross. But, it is gross.

I had to scan in some stuff today. I've been putting it off, and had a rather large stack to do. Some was even business; bad me for waiting so long. The last things I scanned were Angel scans in February. Anyhow, I unbury the scanner. I stack stuff on it when I'm not using it. My "important" to do papers and things like "And You Think You've Got It Bad" and "Lulu" and so forth. I calmly flick open the lid.

Let me pause to say that my scanner is about five inches from my left elbow. I have a corner desk that has "wings" down either side of the room. This desk basically takes up 2 whole walls of the room. Very nice. The right side is a bookcase, the stereo, the cd collection, my sort of non-altar altar of candles and incense, and the telephone. The right side is the printer and the scanner, and then stacks of crap people leave when they visit or read the mail or whatever. Then the corner part has the computer, monitor, and the software. I had a picture of it once. Not sure where I put that.

It's also around 8 am. They're pulling over a statue of Saddam on TV, my coffee cup is hot and half-full, and I'm pulling my mail. I'm bored with all these things and think, "Let's scan stuff in!"

I flick open the lid to the scanner and a thousand little black ANTS go running everywhere. I screamed and let the lid drop, to say the least. But it's too late, they're now crawling like a black plague all over the scanner in every direction. They were starting a little colony on the surface of my scanner, you see. There was a little pile of ant eggs just off the glass.

It was gross. I was appalled. I had NO idea that was there, and it's like 5 inches from my elbow!

I head for the kitchen and grab the glass cleaner. I also grab my youngest son. I mean, someone besides me should see this. I sprayed and wiped the scanner down. I carried off large amounts of teensy black ant corpses and washed them down the drain, along with the little pile of eggs. I sprayed. I unplugged the scanner, took it to the kitchen and pounded it upside down to remove other ants. They were hiding in the foam of the lid, and in the slots where the lid goes. Anyhow. I cleaned the ants out.

Then, just to take some revenge, I set out some of this ant poison that's been sitting in the package on my desk for like two weeks. I think it's working, I haven't seen an ant crawl across my desk in a while. But I won't be satisfied until every one of these black little terrors is out of my house. I mean, harmless, yes. But oh, how annoying.

And that was the adventure of the day. Hope you enjoyed that. (ha) Stay tuned for tomorrow's episode: Deoris Goes to the Shrink!

Writing Successes: Finished reading and judging the Three Cheers and a Tiger contest entries. Had a lovely time.

Music Playing: KMHD. This is a college radio station funded by the public that plays jazz commercial free.

Exerpt from "...And You Think You've Got It Bad"

Wash the Hair As Often As Twice a Month - Keep in mind, your hair is your "crowning glory." Each night before retiring, brush the hair free from dust with one hundred strokes, it not only keeps the hair glossy and clean but your arms will gain strength. Some persons find it neccessary to wash the hair as often as twice a month, and others once a month is sufficient. Still other say it should never be washed at all. But once a month will rob it of that musty smell which comes of having long hair wound up closely for any length of time; also stops itching that is bothersome. Water taken from the rain barrel makes the hair soft as silk. At night the hair should be left free, night-caps are a relic of barbarism.

Wow! Twice a month! And here I was, merrily washing every day! What WAS I thinking? I will say that as a child I tended to brush 100 strokes before bed. I think it's something I saw Laura Ingalls do. However, she wore a nightcap. How barbaric! I don't think I'll even go into how hard it would be to FIND a rainbarrel, much less get the water from it.

So, the big question is: Why no updates since last week? That's easy: It was my birthday.

I had the tooth pulled on my birthday. I had a choice of a $1300 root canal and recapping, or a $85 pull. Since I went in there uninsured, which do you think I chose? Yap. Big hole. I think the dentist was delusional for asking me to do the canal in the first place. "Oh, yeah, and you'll have to pay half of that right now before you leave the office." Uh, sure. That's going to happen.

I've also been spending quality time with "Lulu In Hollywood", the book Sal gifted to me. (Did I say thanks?) I've finally made it through the really long introduction, which wasn't as bad as I had thought. The text is taken from a "New Yorker" article, so it's quality. He described several films he had seen with Louise Brooks (the author of this autobiography) in them. He was pretty detailed, it was like re-watching them. (I've seen only two. Both were awesome.) Then he goes on about his VISIT with her. Yes, he tracked her down to her apartment and spent an afternoon sifting through her collection of movie stills and photographs and memories. Talk about amazing! But now I'm in the meat of the book, written by Lulu herself. It's a little muddled, she wanders back and forth through time, and you have to stay sharp. But the writing is clear and understandable. She also name drops quite a lot, but incidentally. "Here is this fact, too, while I'm at it." It's grandish.

So that's where I've been. Hope you're not too disappointed.

One final note, about my dad. He graciously offered to purchase some software for me, and brought it over Monday. He calls to make sure I'm at home, I return the call. He has the day off and will drop by around 4pm. (It was just past noon.) I remark that I'll be here, it's not like I was going anywhere. I ask what he's going to go off and do. He's going skating! Well, that's interesting I think.

Later, I was waiting for the water to boil for my cup-of-noodles lunch and reading "Lulu" when it struck me. He had opportunity, time, and energy to spend time alone with me, and he went skating by himself. Not that I wasn't enjoying the moment, I really was. There was quiet in the house, rain outside pattering against the window and making time with the teapot as it hissed to a boil, and the light was gray, but perfect to read in. And I suddenly thought, "Too bad. There was a missed opportunity to spend with his kid." (If you visit the archives, you'll see that 2 weeks ago he blasted me for not spending time with my kids during spring break.)

Ah, irony. How I enjoy her visits. Tell you what, that's the last time he'll say anything like that to me.

Don't worry, I'll be back again tomorrow. I kind of missed writing this the past few days.