It is what it is . . .

It's time to take a blogging break.

Thank you Lynngweeny, Swirl Girl, Candid Carrie, Teri, Kat, Kath, and everyone else who has visited and read this blog and been there from the start. I have had a lot of fun writing and posting. I will still visit all of your blogs as I have come to know so many of you and enjoy your life stories in this wonderful blogging world. .

Adios for now.

Happy all the time . . .

Once upon a time I received a gift certificate for a beauty day at the local nail salon. A day filled with the works. A spa manicure and pedicure. I was pretty excited. When I drove up to the salon I saw the name "Happy Time Nails" on the door and told my hands and feet to get ready for a fun-filled experience.

I entered the salon and was greeted excitedly by the owner and ten nail ladies all beckoning me to come in and sit in the happy glamour nail chair. At least I think that's what they said. I was the only customer in the joint. Either this was a very exclusive salon or the worst salon. I got a gut feeling that told me to run. I should have followed my instincts. I would have been right and not in need of medical assistance when the day was over.

I awkwardly climbed up on the nail chair and turned to face my chosen nail lady. She grinned at me and said something like, "You like me?" I nervously smiled back and said something intelligent like, " Um?" She laughed and slapped my foot as she pushed my pant leg up to my inner thigh. I heard a rip. The little lady had strong hands. She had torn my jeans up to mid-thigh with her tiny little doll hands. I wasn't expecting her to alter my clothing too. This was some salon. I came in wearing boot leg jeans and I was going to leave in a pair of cut-offs to show off my new pedicure. What a surprise. I wasn't so sure I was very happy about it yet. Hopefully they lived up to their name.

She turned on the jet powered water bath and immersed my feet. Another person had snuck up behind me and turned on the vibrating chair feature. I was expecting a relaxing experience. Instead I felt like I was riding a mechanical bull. I asked for a seat belt to keep me from sliding off the chair and onto the floor. They covered their mouths and giggled. I held on tight and wondered when the happy part was going to start.

My special nail lady with the super power hands pulled out my right foot and placed it on the towel covered bar. She examined my foot as she reached under the chair and pulled out an electric sander. She flipped the switch and there was a momentary power surge. Everything stopped, the lights dimmed for a second, and then everything went back to normal again. She pressed the sander to the bottom of my foot and my leg did an involuntary rocket kick. She grabbed my flailing foot and set the sander to my heel. She ground off a full shoe size before I asked her to move to the other foot to even out the size. I wanted my shoes to flop equally when I left. I made it through that portion of the ordeal only to have her put the sander away and bring out a drill. She was going to shape my toenails. Sand away the ridges. Even them out. Sand them off completely. And then try and sand off my pinkie toe as well. I saw red, and it wasn't the nail polish color I had chosen. I decided I had about all the "Happy Time" I could take and said I just remembered that I had to go.

Now.

The nail lady wrapped my foot in toilet paper and I hobbled out the door as the salon owner told me there was no charge for the experience. I said, "Well, I'm really happy about that."

the end...

Happy Easter . . .

You are never too old to take pictures with the Easter Rat. He uses his ears like arms to hug the ladies.

Aren't these beautiful? They came from a bakery named, "Some Crust".

These came from a day of making my sister slave over a hot oven. I'm particularly fond of the blue icing.
They taste amazing.
I made these party favors for my guests. It's all about the candy.

I found this nest in my yard. If those eggs hatch, Easter is ruined, my table decoration is ruined, and I will be really grossed out.

Do you leave refreshments for the Easter Bunny? This year I'm leaving him a note with the keys to my liquor cabinet. I drank everything while preparing the Easter feast for my family. I need to blame someone. He won't mind. I'm sure he's sick of carrots anyway.
Happy Easter everyone! One more thing...

... I can't leave without showing you these. These are bunny faces. I can't stop making them. Or eating them.
My sister can't stop making these gingerbread candy houses. Does anyone know of a Gingerbread Rehab group? I would love to drop this off on Monday so they can eat it during snack time.

Stay in school . . .

Last night was Open House at our school. This kid drew a crown on herself in every picture. Her name is Queeny. No joke.

Three students have healthy body images. Two don't. They think they are Aliens.

One kid thinks he's Elvis.
This one is in counseling.
This is what happens to your body if you eat too many sweets. Works for me.

This is an endangered animal. Probably a good thing.

This is our token Vampire Child.

This one is trying to hide her hamster with a side ponytail. I still see it.

This one is hiding something under his desk.

This one is Gumby's daughter.
This is me. I went a little heavy on the lipstick.

This is the view from my library counter looking out at the hallway. I use a long hook to catch my friends and co-workers as they race by. They love it. I think I see someone belly crawling by my door right now.
This is where I sit and read stories to the students. Personal favorites of mine are, "There really is a monster under your bed," and "Mom and Dad love your brother more than you," and the best of all is "You and your therapist: a beginners guide". Classics.

This is the library. I have a look - but don't touch - policy. It stays cleaner that way.

Thanks for attending our Open House.

Easter...

I found out in 3rd grade that I had allergies. I'm told I sounded like a cat coughing up a fur ball every two seconds and it was disturbing to everyone around.

I went to the doctor and got tested. I found out I had the same DNA as the boy in the plastic bubble.

I was allergic to everything.

Chocolate
Strawberries
Dairy
Wheat
McDonald's
The entire Universe
Et al . . .

If I liked it... I was allergic to it.

I wish the doctor had said something like, "Liver, green bell peppers, lamb, and chores." I could live without all of those things. Forever....

I found out that I was allergic to the food I loved a few days before Easter.

What in the world would the Easter Bunny bring me?

Carrots? Celery? Lettuce? Radishes? ...an I.O.U????

I was pretty concerned as any kid would be.

I wrote him/her a letter.

Dear Easter Bunny,
I just found out that I am not supposed to have any chocolate in my Easter basket this year...or ever. If you hide some under the plastic green shred I would appreciate it. My parents won't mind. They are used to me sounding like a fog horn. It's somewhat melodious once you get over the initial shock. I would also like you to leave out the Peeps. Those things taste like stale marshmallows dropped in the sand. I would also like it if you could take out the black jelly beans. Licorice gives me gas. Worse than my allergy sounds. I am leaving you an extra carrot for your efforts.
signed,
a very concerned kid

Easter Sunday rolled around and I jumped out of bed and ran to the living room to search for my bountiful basket. I saw 4 baskets lined up on the fireplace. The usual spot. Our Easter Bunny obviously came down the chimney like Santa Claus. I noticed very quickly that the three baskets for my two sisters and brother were full of large chocolate bunnies, jelly beans of all colors, multiplying Peeps in purple and yellow and pink, and lots of chocolate eggs. I saw my basket. It was full of something white. White bunnies. Lots of white bunnies. White eggs. Lots of white eggs. White jelly beans. About a hundred of them scattered in the shredded plastic Easter grass. I counted them.

I quickly set to work tasting each and every piece for flavor. After the 50th jelly bean I gave up. I'm pretty sure they were the "Mystery Flavor" which means they were factory rejects that the manufacturer cleverly marketed. I bit the ear off the largest white bunny. It tasted like sidewalk chalk. I licked a white egg. It left a coating on my tongue that tasted like Crisco. I gave up and grabbed a chocolate bunny out of my sister's basket and stuffed it into my mouth. It tasted like heaven. Two seconds later I woke up the entire family with my honking fur ball cough.

Turns out the "Easter Bunny" had given me an entire basket of white chocolate and yogurt flavored goodies.

???

I have no good explanation for why the "Easter Bunny" thought that white chocolate and yogurt were not part of the chocolate and dairy family.

the end...