The person below me #57 - Highest odd score on a dartboard!

Gentle exercise and a nice cup of hot chocolate.

TPBM has no trouble sleeping at night.

Edit: Link to last thread

Most of the time.

TPBM played Settlers of Catan

Nope.

The person below me played tennis.

Nope.

TPBM played 'spin the bottle'.

Leaped!

Oh yeah.

Newp, never even heard of it.

>>380 AnnaClaire: h- Thank you, that was a lovely bridge.

TPBM takes vitamins every day.

I should but I usually forget them.

TPBM has a "pharmacy in a bag."

Only when I travel - and it's just my prescriptions, at the proper dosage, plus the OTC stuff recommended by my doctors.
I'm down to just 9 different pills, and 1 injection 2x, a day. There was a time when I had to down 22 different pills, some 2 or 3x a day.
I think I had the most expensive urine in town back then.

TPBM goes for long walks in the evening.

Bike rides at dusk - much less exertion.

TPBM can tie special knots.

If by special you mean knots that always come undone then yes.

TPBM is still in bed (or wishes they were)

I keep hoping I am, because that means that the big ugly situation I've been dealing with is really just a Bad Dream and will go away. Alas, I am awake.

TPBM knows how to fix people.

yes, but then you need somewhere to stash the body.

TPBM thinks Dr. Phil should make house calls.

You gotta have the right tool, S. Hammers work real well for males.

I love Dr. Phil's attitude. "Stop acting like an A** and grow up!"

TPBM agrees.

Simplistic so it's catchy. Simplistic so it's wrong.

The person below me has found that philosophy works, philosophically speaking.

I know that in Theory, Theory and Practice are the same, but in Practice, they are not.

TPBM has had something to smile about today.

No, I popped a button right before a big meeting and it went badly. I mean, yeah, it was a peyote button but still, some people get upset over the least little thing. Sheesh! (OK, I totally didn't take peyote before a meeting, I made that up.)

TPBM has sat as a test audience through someone's trial run of a speech, presentation, sermon, diatribe, manifesto.

More times than you can imagine. I have written out their speech, created their slides and held their hand before they walked out on stage to waves of applause.

The person below me is wiggling their toes (having just taken their feet out of their shoes).

YES! I am wiggling my toes and stretching my legs ---- I have just gotten into my most comfortable clothes (warning, gentlemen) -- the bra is off, as well as the shoes..... the wine is poured, the mind is in denial that I have to go back to work tomorrow. I'm sitting on the couch in a sunbeam and looking forward to a quiet evening at home.

TPBM doesn't understand the appeal of bobble-heads.

Not in the least.

#12 - I don't want him DEAD. I would just like him to stop asking for advice, getting logical, obvious, and reasonable answers, and ignoring them, and then complaining when the situation explodes later. Moreover, I would like him to start FOLLOWING the logical, obvious, and reasonable advice given, thereby preventing the explody situations in the first place.

But that would be the logical, obvious, and reasonable thing to do. Aggravating man.

TPBM has turned on the lights.

Also, SomeGuy: You said peyote and my mind automatically went to the beadwork stitch. Different kinda addiction, I s'pose?

I'm actually getting plenty of light from my computer screen.

#17 - I don't believe you. Please provide a picture to support your claim.

TPBM prefers darkness to bright lights.

Er... which claim? And how does one photograph a desire for a brain to grow in someone else's head?

Nevermind. The numbers are screwy. Clearly you meant EBT1002's #17.

No, I prefer bright lights, preferably natural (not so much big city bright lights, although I do live in a city). June in Seattle with its long, long days is just fine with me.

TPBM thinks that WHL will just have to take a leap of faith, the lecherous soul that he is. (no proof positive will be forthcoming, at least not on this glass of wine).

I think MrsHouseLibrary must be a very tolerant woman.

TPBM has had chocolate wine (particularly of this variety, as that's what I have) and will tell me whether opening the bottle I got as a gift is worth it.

Not me, but MrsHouseLibrary has. She thought it was okay, but she isn't stockpiling it either.

#22 - It's not tolerance as much as a good sense of humor.

TPBM owns more Blue-Ray discs than DVDs.

Not one Blue-Ray disc. A handful of DVDs, including my most recent acquisition from PBS --- the entire original Upstairs Downstairs series.

TPBM also has a tolerant partner/spouse with a good sense of humor.

Sure, now. After the lobotomy everything was fine, except now I have to drive everywhere.

>>18 RandomActofMuse:- Whatever Rose, I now know my spirit guide is a dry erase board. I'm 1/64 part Human Being of the Shawnee nation and these things are very important to my people. I'm sure you're not intentionally trying to be racist. Ya't'a hey.

TPBM created a really cool station on Pandora.

Racist? *feigns being deeply insulted*

(I didn't even know there was a cactus called a peyote till today - but I've been beading things for just about forever, and peyote beadwork is a favorite of mine!))

Tolerant, yes, because he knows I'm mostly harmless, but sense of humour - I'm still trying to introduce him to the concept. Well, good sense of humour - he can do toilet

Oops - missed some, there; was replying 24.

Nope; no station on Pandora.

TPBM is contemplating moving house.

Yes, but I don't want to. Well, I do, because of the bugs/neighbors, but ideally that move is made WITH R and not FROM him... Damn his stubborn pride getting in the way.

TPBM will convince my fiance to stop being so stubbornly proud and just fix his end of things already so we can move on together like we're supposed to.

Um, that sounds complicated. I am a psychologist, it's true, but sometimes I just want to say to folks "yeah, yeah, get over it, do the right thing, and move on." Would that work with your fiance?

TPBM hates windy nights.

I don't like them when a cold wind's howling and whistling round the house, trying to nose in through every crack and cranny; they make me feel small and lonely against the grand scheme of things. But now I live in the tropics, the winds are much milder, and the occassional stiff breeze cools things down.

TPBM is on holiday.

(Rose - look, he's a guy. It's a Y-linked thing. You just have to let them make a lot of noise, and roll your eyes while you get quietly on with actually doing things)

That depends on where I am in relation to said winds, and whether they may be of some benefit to me.

TPBM likes to talk like a pirate, even if it isn't TLaP Day.

Avast ye matey...not so much actually

My holiday starts Friday

TPBM is already on holiday (lucky sod)

//SRedRose -- sounds like this guy is always giving you trouble. Drunk at Christmas, causing a problem with your family, so couldn't go to another family gathering? That sounds like a deal breaker to me. Do you think you might be better off without him? Just a wild guess. Sorry you're having such a hard time with him.//

Not on holiday yet, but I'm not complaining - taking a day off on Tuesday to go to the Glasgow Film Theatre to see La Potiche with Catherine Deneuve (not with her, you understand ...).

TPBM, space and cash permitting, would love to have an old Wurlitzer jukebox in their home.

I would, with all the 45s I have gotten rid of and that have fallen by the wayside since I was a teenager. I would put it in the living room - I'd move the piano and fish tank further towards the dining room and put it where the fish tank was.

TPBM has some old 78s tucked away somewhere.

I don't, but my dad might.

#29 - tried it. Hasn't worked. I'm on the brink of leaving - there's a problem he won't admit and I can't fix it for him. Not fixing it WILL kill our relationship and will probably severely damage his relationship with the kids later on, and I haven't been able to get him to see that yet.

TPBM is busy today.

Yes, and if another folder is placed on my chair while I'm away from my desk, I may scream.

TPBM is covering their ears.

Ears covered, scream away.

//SRedRose - I'm so sorry it's going so badly. Know that several of us are holding you in our thoughts as you make this tough decision. I do hope you dig deep and do what you need to do to move forward with your life.//

TPBM is going to be late for work.

A bit late on milking; however, I decided that would not happen until I finish the delicious Vietnamese coffee my roommate made for me. Then I will be going outside to milk a couple of sheep. Hilarious YouTube video soon to follow.

My roommates are taking a business trip over the holiday weekend leaving me in charge of the livestock. Pity the poor livestock.

TPBM leaves livestock to the competent.

Yes, which is why I don't own any - though I toyed with the idea of borrowing a goat or three to graze my lawn...

TPBM is camouflaged.

...><(((°>

TPBM is hiding out as something else.

%!:v)

A chicken dressed as Carmen Miranda. So far, I haven't had much luck infiltrating the local population.

TPBM is having lunch al fresco.

No, I have to avoid Mideastern cusine.

TPBM listens to bluegrass music.

Not if I can help it.

TPBM prefers their water flavored.

With rum.

TPBM does not imbibe.

Yeah. That's me all right.

TPBM can't remember the last time s/he rode on a merry-go-round.

Yes, I can. It was last Monday with my kids. Somewhere I have a picture, but I think it's still on my camera.

TPBM is lost in thought.

Maybe. I'm thinking seriously about the fried-onion burgers my daughter is bringing in a little while. Yummy!

TPBM wishes for some of those yummy burgers.

I had great hamburgers two days ago and could go for somemore, but I think I'm aiming for high end pizza today.

The person below me loves it when they enjoy there food and hates it when nothing tastes special.

I haven't turned an oven on for anything more than warmth in years. And lighting a cigarette from a gas flame burner is ALWAYS a bad idea. Have someone else do it for you.

TPBM knows someone in the news.

Not lately, fortunately.

TPBM will see fireworks tonight.

The fireflies do put on a stupendous display this time of year. They'll start up in about half an hour or so.

TPBM has never seen a firefly in real life.

God, I've always loved to watch fireflies. We even had them where I lived in DC, but it's too built up to have them here.

ETC the kicker.

Something else reminds TPBM of beautiful summer nights.

Image:Home1.jpg

Edit: apparently I'm not smart enough to post an image on this site.

Stars. Seeing lots of stars.

(We didn't have fireflies, but I have seen them as an adult. Way cool.)

I just scanned some old pictures and discovered my grandmother would have been 138 years old this week! (edit: Because of the age of my grandparents, I have trouble calculating "generations" when referred to in the books I read...)

The person below me has a younger grandmother.

She would have been 111.

Rule of thumb, a generation is about 20 years.

TPBM has another rule of thumb to share.

My mom told me to never trust a man who wears a bow tie.

TPBM has another rule of thumb.

Never thumb your nose at a 400 pound biker in front of a dozen of his buddies.

TPBM twiddles his or her thumbs.

Well, now that you mention it, I sometimes do. Not very often. It's a weird way to entertain oneself in a meeting. I guess it's better than checking my email on my iPhone. If only there were a LT app......

TPBM thinks it's great to be an auntie or uncle.

Dunno. I'm the only one in my generation of the family with kids so far.

TPBM is childfree by choice.

Yep! All 3 of my sons chose to live somewhere else when they got steady jobs after graduating high school.
We had dinner with all of them earlier this evening - hasn't happened since Thanksgiving.

TPBM has a nervous twitch.

Yes indeed, when someone makes me 'nervous' by irritating the hell out of me, my left arm shoots out and catches them on the nose.

TPBM has never raised their voice in anger

You must be joking!

TPBM lets it all hang out.

I do sometimes. Well, half of it anyway. I make a barricade on the deck so I can't be seen from the road and I get my vitamin D. But not so much this year because of the caterpillars everywhere.

TPBM would never do such a thing.

No, I'd take my t-shirt off, too.

TPBM drives with the engine warning light on.

yep, because it's telling me about an expensive but inconsequential emissions leak.

TPBM only buys new vehicles.

You can buy vehicles new? Who'd a thunk it?! Nope, I prefer to let someone else suffer the huge depreciation in value which occurs the second you drive it off the forecourt - I really couldn't give a toss about impressing the neighbours.

TPBM is a rugged individualist.

(In unison) "We are all individuals."
(Lone voice) "I'm not!"

TPBM appreciates subtle humor, even if finally understood several days after the fact.

Actually, WHL, I usually get your jokes on the first try!

The person below me is humming an old Petula Clark tune.

I don't even know any Petula Clark tunes.

TPBM went to a parade today.

Was there one on the agenda? Did I miss it?

#69 - For the record, I wasn't fishing for compliments, and most of my silliness is not deliberate - it just "happens". (But thanks, anyway.)
The reply in #68 was, of course, from Monty Python's Life of Brian.

TPBM is a Python-afile.

I do have the entire flying circus on dvd as well as 'holy grail' but I don't spend hours watching it all the time.

TPBM has a silly walk.

So I've been told.

The person below me has a private mannerism that sometime escapes into the public.

"What are you NUTS" - feel free to punctuate it any way you wish - it works several ways. Being from New Jersey, I tend to say that a lot. There, it's considered part of polite conversation. Texans are so thin-skinned...

TPBM occasionally inserts his/her foot into his/her mouth, and then bites down hard.

Yeah, and it's not so much a problem except when I insert the whole damn leg in there. That's when I didn't bite down hard enough, I guess.

TPBM is having a hard time concentrating today.

I'm having a hard time NOT concentrating today. I think too much for my own good.

TPBM thinks just the right amount for his/her own good.

NO SUCH PERSON!!

TPBM is about to have BBQ pork chops for supper.

Nope, fish, as it's first Friday. I am however, going to BBQ a lovely pork loin for the holiday meal.

TPBM thinks that Hot Dogs and corn on the cob is 4th of July fare.

Bratwurst, or maybe my mother's marinated garlic sausage salad. And potato salad. And three bean salad. I may manage the potato salad. One of my roommates has gout, which is keeping bratwurst, garlic sausage and beans off the menu.

TPBM has gout.

Oh thank the lord, no, I don't. My mother had it and I think it qualifies as "no fun."

TPBM loves fireworks.

The first few minutes and the big finale. The rest qualifies as a long goodbye.

TPBM has a stash of real fireworks (cherry bombs, fire crackers, rockets, etc.)

Never! I know 3 people, from 3 different times in my life, who have fewer than the standard number of digits because of fireworks.
My sons never groked my refusal to have any in the house, so they always stored them with friends.

TPBM is watching the sun set tonight (no particular reason, just watching it).

No, we're getting ready to have a very large storm with large hail, so no sunset.

TPBM has had hail recently.

Not that I know of. Lotsa rain this week, but no hail.

TPBM has noisy toys.

Any noise annoys an oyster and a noisy toy annoys an oyster more. So, no. I try to keep my toys quiet so as not to annoy the oysters.

TPBM is getting the impression that I may have taken a little drink.

A little?

The person below me has an ereader.

No, I keep going back and forth on it. On the one hand, to have several book to hand and not at premium prices and on the other the smell and weight of a book as you read it, don't know if I could give that up.

TPBM will give a good reason to go with an ereader.

I don't have a dedicated ereader, but I do have an iPad. I get lots of PDFs/ebooks from photographers that I admire. Usually from around $4 each. They are not available in print form and the photographs are reproduced at a size and resolution that would cost a fortune in print form anyway.

//#86 Yes, a little.

TPBM has also found a modern way to enjoy an old hobby.

Well, sure, if we count:
~an MP3 player instead of tapes/CDs for music
~typing instead of writing my journals (I can hide it on my computer that way and snooping eyes can't see it)
~web forums/assorted social networking sites for communicating with people

TPBM is awake far too early for their liking.

I got out of bed at 6:23 this morning. On a Saturday. On a day I could have slept in. I very rarely sleep in. I'm not wired that way, unfortunately.

TPBM has just run out of stamps.

I still have lots of stamps because I rarely use them. Actually they are left over from my mother's Christmas card mailing.

TPBM never gets up in time to work in the garden when it is cooler, and therefore can't decide what chores to do next and so sits and reads LT in the hopes that a decision will pop up miraculously.

Something like that. My roommates are out of town, so did I get up to fuss with livestock at 6:30, when it is significantly cooler. I have spent the hours since wondering if I should go out again to deal with milking the sheep while it is merely hot instead of brutally hot, or take a nap first. I don't think I can wrestle recalcitrant sheep without a nap.

TPBM has livestock.

No, there are no pets allowed in my building. But the neighbourhood cats drop by to visit my deck and I believe a skunk has moved in nearby.

//I have to go over to my mother's place today yet again to help her figure out why she was unsuccessful yet again downloading a ebook from the library//

TPBM has elderly parents nearby that they help with the 21st century.

Yes, for a given (Australian) definition of 'nearby'. About an hour's freeway drive.

TPBM could be in a different country after an hour's drive.

No, but if the U. S. Civil War had had a different outcome, perhaps I could.

TPBM has no plans to celebrate American Independence Day this weekend.

No, none at all. But we did go to our local Canada Day celebrations yesterday and the day before.

The preson below me likes quiet.

I have no plans to celebrate American Independance Day.

>94 justjim: : Normally, I could be in a different country after a 10 minute drive (depending on how long the border crossing takes; so more like an hour), but right now, I'm in Sydney.

>93 carod: : Please could you come round afterwards and help me with my e-book?

TPBM usually stays up until insanely late hours.

I have been known to stay up until 2:00 or 3:00 reading a good book. If left to my natural inclination I would stay up until 12:00 or later most nights and sleep until after 8:00 but that doesn't work with the real world.

TPBM circadian rhythm is set much more normally.

Bother!

No, I come from that 30-hour planet, I'm sure.

>97 humouress: It's 4am for me, same as for you, so that'd be a 'yes'.

TPBM does the regular old nine to five and bed by eleven.

Pfft. I have kids who don't let me keep those hours, and I'm a night owl anyway. I'm just not sleepy till after midnight!

TPBM is happy.

I saw part of a video smuggled out of North Korea of a starving 23-year-old woman selling grass. Lady, I'm fucking ecstatic.

ETC kicker.

TPBM has recently received some welcome attention.

I receive welcome attention every day.

TPBM tends to forget just how lucky we here in the USA, Canada, etc. really are.

I sometimes forget, but I try really really hard to remember. I spent the day: going for a run, scrubbing the front porch and steps in prep for painting, pulling a few weeds in the back garden, grocery shopping, reading in the back garden, and then enjoying a really good bottle of wine with grilled dinner (ground beef patties, sweet onions, fresh corn, sweet peppers...). How incredibly privileged is that??!!

TPBM also started (and maybe finished) a household project today.

Today's only just started!I've not been awake long enough to start anything, let alone finish it.

TPBM has brushed their teeth today.

Not yet, but I've only been up an hour

The person below me also slept late.

Not today. Normally I can on Sundays because my mom takes Kidlet on Saturday nights, but every 7 or 8 weeks she has praise team on Saturday night and can't take him.

TPBM is bald on purpose.

Only of my purpose is a bald-faced lie.

I've got a full head of hair that's not showing the slightest hint of thinning out, plus a beard. I will admit I have a rather pronounced "M' hairline, but it hasn't receded at all.

TPBM has seen hummingbirds recently.

The hummingbirds are right outside my door.

TPBM has a very expensive brown-and-grey hair colouring like mine.

Nope. My hair is... well, *was* henna-dyed to auburn, but it's been over a year since I colored it and half of it is back to field-mouse brown with the occasional silver-white hair sneaking in. Really should re-dye it; I kinda miss my red!

TPBM is having a bright, sunny day.

Yep, and we even had these hoomungus thunderboomers around 5 am (I woke up, either because of the thunder or I'd fallen asleep listening to my iPod and I wanted to turn over.)

>>108 nhlsecord: nls- I have blond hair that's been going gray since I was 27. The gray blends with the blond, but I've been kicking around the idea of dyeing it platinum blond. I'm thinking it may turn out to be Village of the Damned meets hitler youth. At least I hope so.

TPBM has the kind of job where they can or can't do things like that, and will explain.

I just finished my job at a alternate school where deciding to die my hair purple or wear dread locks would have been just fine. Starting September I will be in a more traditional school so that kind of thing would be less encouraged. However, since I am a natural red head/strawberry blond I don't feel the need to experiment.

TPBM has to wear business wear or a uniform to work and can't die their hair purple.

I once dyed my brown hair to auburn, but nobody noticed! Now it is just brown and grey, but I'm proud of the grey. I am not currently working so my uniform is old torn and stained stuff unless I go to town, in which case it is old stuff not torn or stained.

TPBM loves their clothes.

Most of them.

TPBM has new clothes.

I bought a new pink t-shirt today because it was only $3.99 at the hardware store. I also need a new pair of pants before I go on vacation Thursday. My main interest in clothes is that they be clean when I go out in public, and keep me decently covered (and warm when necessary).

TPBM is preparing for a vacation.

Leaving in the morning for Chicago. Getting together with a few fellow LTlings on Wednesday evening.

TPBM wants in on the action.

Well, yeah. But I won't be in Chicago until the 18th.

TPBM lives in Chicago.

I don't, but my dad's parents and brother live near it; when we visit we go to the city for a day.

TPBM lives in another big city.

Not quite as big as Chicago, but Seattle still qualifies as far as I'm concerned. It's definitely the largest city in which I have ever lived - and probably larger than I would prefer. On the other hand, I just got back from a quick bus ride to the market (the famous one) and that's pretty cool.

TPBM loves using public transit.

I do, when it's available.
Our idiot Governor consider Mass Transportation to be a form of Socialism.

Jerk!

TPBM has leanings.

I was leaning on a bar earlier - does that count?

TPBM also has leanings.

If there is no place to sit or lie down, then my next choice is to lean.

TPBM is lean.

Compared to some. Compared to others, I'm practically an elephant (which is ok with me; I like elephants :) )

TPBM likes elephants too.

I guess that with some familiarity I could feel affection for some of the pachyderms, but I tend to find the carnivores prettier.

The person below me likes birds, pretty birds not smart birds.

I like all birds, in their natural environs. Not like this damned cockatiel.
As I stated earlier, we're heading to Chicago in the morning.
One of the largest expenditures we're going to have is for someone to come "sit with the bird" while we're gone.

TPBM has a recipe for Cockatiel Stew or something equally permanent.

I like birds in general, but my preference for any species is smart. I've been dealing with dumb animals all weekend and my patience is thin.

Split second timing and I still lost.

Anything that works for squab might be a good place to start.

TPBM likes dumb animals.

Well, my mother liked to say that the yellow lab I had as a kid wasn't all that bright. (Said dog did have a thing for horse poo, after all.) And, well, I didn't exactly mind that my feet went numb after a while when Pippa curled up on them. Does that count?

The person below me also has/had a dog that exhibits questionable judgement.

No, actually all the dogs I can remember from childhood were pretty smart (for a given, doggy, value of smart.)

The ones that talk back can be annoying!

//Insert recipe here - post first so as not to get leapt (well, that didn't work!)
An old bush recipe for Cockatoo might be of assistance. Pluck and dress the bird and put it in a pot of water with carrots, onions, potatoes, herbs and seasoning to taste, and a medium size river pebble. Boil strongly until the pebble is soft. Strain, throw away the cockatoo and eat the pebble.

TPBM likes movies where the animals do talk back.

I saw Beginners Friday night and the dog didn't talk back, but he did get some clever subtitles and pretty much stole the show.

TPBM thinks Gromit is the best dog.

//I bet Mr. House cries when Mrs. House's Cockatiel finally goes up to that big bird cage in the sky. Mr. House just wants us all to think he's a hard(_!_).//

Gromit is definitely the best dog! How a dumb animal can say so much with just a look - such fabulous animation ...

(#129 - Boobalack, I agree entirely!)

TPBM thinks of at least 10 great ideas a day for TPBM and then forgets them all as soon as they're next sitting at a keyboard.

Er.......... Yes! What was the question? It's on the tip of my tongue.

TPBM has convinced themselves that they suffer from Benign Forgetfulness (rather than the "A" word)

Benign Forgetfulness is a great money saver, cos when you 'forget' people's birthdays, they just say 'poor old soul' instead of getting upset!

TPBM thinks sod's law completely runs their life.

I don't know what sod's law is, but it sounds bad so I'll say yes.

And now I have to think of something...

TPBM gets one-sided calls from their mother who can't hear and doesn't speak very clearly but wants something.

Mother-in-law. Two out of three - frequently doesn't speak clearly and ALWAYS wants us to visit more, calling us bad because we don't. Sigh.

TPBM has work to do on their LT catalog.

There is no end to the work I keep not doing on my LT catalogue! (TPAM's last word seems to have been corrupted somehow.)

TPBM has their LT catalogue just they way they want it.

Not hardly. With most of my books in storage, I can't even finish cataloging them. I've been amusing myself tweaking catalog entries, nonetheless.

TPBM doesn't get the OCD cataloging thing and would be happy with "generic" editions.

My books are sorted (in my Excel spreadsheet catalog, at least) by genre, then author, then title, all in alphabetical order.

On the shelf? Not so much. But then, I only have about 1/3 of my books here; the rest are at my mom's house in a back bedroom shelf because there isn't space here.

TPBM doesn't even catalog books.

Well, not professionally, at any rate. Of all my library courses, cataloging struck me as the least suited to someone of my temperament.

The person below me has enjoyed his/her weekend!

Very much so, though as per usual it went way too fast!

TPBM is allowed to be on LT at work & often spends more time on here than actually working, while at work.

We can't stream anything, and we're project oriented so I'm usually too busy except at lunch.

>>I think WHL's antipathy toward animals is genuine and poses a clear and present danger to the bird. I think he also knows enough not to blow a good thing. Not even if you ask him really, really nicely.

>>I'm not OCD about cataloging, although I try to choose the same cover/pub data if it's already available. One idea that really does interest me is tagging; I would like to be able to draw as many lines as possible to a book and from it. My personal belief is that any information gathered from a tag cloud is interesting, and data that can be stored, retrieved and manipulated to give a bird's eye view of 'X' could be really meaningful to some who is studying X- providing both positive data and giving ideas of black holes. Also, the amount of information generated daily places great pressure on eggheads to specialize and they may not know much about what's going on outside their field of expertise- I feel this is good in that the EH stays focused and bad in that the work may be lost in the shuffle and not useful to someone who may need it. The idea of a manageable data matrix makes me horny.

TPBM is eating something they cooked.

Not currently, but dinner will likely be leftovers from last night, as getting to the store with my kids is... challenging. Kidlet can't walk, is too big for grocery carts and too heavy to carry, and nobody's here to watch him. Grocery shopping will have to wait till Wednesday when his summer school classes start.

TPBM has played Scrabble lately.

I play a variant that we call Speed Scrabble on the fourth Wednesday of every month, and the fourth Wednesday of June was not very long ago.

The person below me doesn't much care for games except for...

((Speed Scrabble sounds interesting. How does it work?))

(I can and am about to explain it, but that is usually inadequate. Learning takes place at the table and is then nearly instant.

We have the tiles from six or seven Scrabble sets. They are piled face down in the center of a table of, it seems best, three to nine players. Each player draws seven tiles and places them, for convenience, face up in front of them. Each player tries to arrange their letters into words in a crossword or Scrabble like pattern in front of themself; that is there is one pattern or grid for each player. When a player has used all of their tiles that player says, "Go," and every player draws a tile. When a player says, "Go," and there are not enough tiles in the center for everyone, the game is over.

We play for fun so we don't keep score, but some of us get up and walk around the table to see any particularly good words that have been played.

Robert)

Scrabble. I love it. My daughter and I play it whenever she's here. She once made 213 points on a single play. I have two Zs (on purpose) in my Scrabble set.

TPBM thinks he or she wouldn't be able to keep up with speed scrabble.

I might not, but it sounds like fun to try it.

The person below me plays games whenever offered a chance!

You betcha!

#s 132, 133 Doesn't Sod's Law state: Green Side up!

TPBM plans on seeing fireworks tonight.

Nope. Fireworks set my son off screaming, and when he starts, my daughter usually follows suit. Besides, it's been raining every afternoon and evening since Thursday. Rained already today, and more in the forecast, so I'm not sure there will be fireworks anyhow!

TPBM has a cookout planned.

We thought about it, but the Chief Charcoal Wrangler is not feeling very well today, so the sausages were cooked indoors on one of those electric griller things. Just as well, since a thunderboomer started threatening at dinnertime. And I said, it's the 4th, dammit, so I made potato salad.

TPBM is also their mother's daughter.

Sometimes. But that has nothing to do with potato salad. I'd really rather NOT be my mother's daughter. My mother can be a very difficult person to like.

TPBM has claimed to be adopted numerous times.

Never, but my older sister occasionally says that I must have been (although she remembers me being born, having been 16 at the time) because I have run a marathon and a couple of half-marathons. My family is mostly very sedentary.

//just sayin' --- I'm sitting here in my living room listening to the (finally) darkening evening out there. I hear fireworks and dogs barking. Fourth of July: a fun day for humans, a horrible day for cats 'n' dogs......//

TPBM wore a funny hat to the picnic today.

Nope; no picnic here.

TPBM is listening to winter winds howling outside.

Nope, just summer breezes rustling through the trees outside my office, a very welcome blue sky/sunny day in London town.

TPBM has had enough of the summer heat already.

Not yet, since we had such a long drawn out winter it seems as though summer is just flying by.

TPBM is suffering from some summer malady, (poison ivy, bug bites, allergies, etc.).

Chiggers! dangit.

TPBM has recently been to grandmother's house.

Nope, both grandmothers have been gone for a long time. My maternal grandmother outlived my mother by five years, we were surprised, we thought she'd live forever as she obviously was a minion of Satan. I'm at present the only active grandmother in the family.
//All three of my cats were in bed with us, trying to either get under the covers or up under my chin, once the fireworks started.//

TPBM thinks I should not speak unkindly of my grandmother.

I think you should call a spade a spade.

When I first moved to the American South, a friend who had already lived here 17 years took me aside and said it was imperative that I learn to properly use the local phrase, "Bless her heart." As in, "Mabel down there at the end of the road, she's an ax murderer -- bless her heart!" You can say anything about anyone that way.

There is another regional variation: "She means well, bless her heart!"

Grandma was a minion of Satan, bless her heart -- she meant well!

TPBM has another regionalism to share.

As a citizen of the American South, I feel I must interject. "Bless her/his/your heart" has got to be the biggest insult around here. It's the one thing you NEVER want to hear a little old church-lady grandma say about you.

My Minnesotan father's favorite regionalism is, "Well, there's that, then." And I learned it from him, despite having lived in Florida since the age of two. Generally used during an awkward pause.

And my other two favorites: "Well, that's interesting" (Florida) and "Well, that's different" (Minnesota). Both mean basically the same thing - something is (insert bad adjective here) and you don't want to offend someone by outright saying so. Useful for bad haircuts, ugly sweaters, or interesting parenting choices.

TPBM has another regionalism to share

When someone gets angry/distressed/upset you can say "She pitched a fit and fell in it." I don't know if it's strictly Southern or North Carolinian, but I first heard it here. I love this one.

Another one I've only heard here is "I don't mean to be ugly but....." and then fill in the nastiest thing you want to say. But you're nice, right? You don't REALLY mean to be ugly. I hate this one.

TPBM never knew that the English language is a descendant of Proto-Indo-European.

(("I don't mean to be ugly, but..." seems a lot like "No offense, but..." and I hate it too.))

It's true. I never knew that.

((I grew up in Florida, and I am ROFL what with "Bless her/his heart" and "Well, that's interesting." I'd better watch that I don't use them, even though I've now lived outside Florida longer than I lived in it.))

TPBM knows specifically what I mean when I say "The mountain is out."

The cat's out of the bag? It's a clear day? Mohammad has nowhere to go?

TPBM collects something odd.

Does yarn count?

>161 EBT1002: Do you live in/near Seattle by any chance? That's where I was the only time I heard that phrase.

The person below me has done a headdesk today.

Yeah, it's one of those days where I have to accomplish 5 impossible things before breakfast and so far zip. I'd tried to force the zone by setting my iPod to stun and blasting Lep Zep, Motorhead, and Black Sabbath. Might work, might not.

>>Yeah, that would count because it's unusual.

TPBM wears a hat.

Never. I love hats, but I do not have a "hat face" and they don't look good on me. My sister, on the other hand, looks good in just about every kind of hat - and she hates them. Ironic, no?

>>How is yarn "unusual?" (asks another yarn collector)

TPBM collects old stuff.

Do boyfriends and ex-husbands count? At my age, they're all old.

TPBM is young, fresh, and rarin' to go.

No, hmm no, hmmmmmm, not really. I guess the answer is no.

TPBM wants to know what a headdesk is as much as I do (#163).
Edit | More

Yes, I want to know what a headdesk is, at least almost as much as morningwalker does.

> 163 I do, indeed, live in Seattle and today the mountain is out. One can only appreciate the import of this if one has seen Mt. Rainier (or, in Portland, Mt. Hood) on a clear day. These mountains are so HUGE compared to all around them. I've lived in the PNW for 16+ years and I'm still awestruck by the view.

TPBM has climbed a mountain.

Mt. Kaala on Oahu, a good bit of Haleakala to the top on Maui, and Mt. Fuji in Japan from the fifth station.

The person below me has walked a gorge from beginning to end.

///headdesk = hitting head on desk. See also facepalm.///

//You'd bitch if you were hung with a new rope. -- Oklahoma
Well, well, well, well, well. -- This must be said with the proper inflection.
Just why are you telling me this? -- after a loooooong story.

headdesk = facepalm = Duh!//

Yes, I have. Many little ones in the mountains of Arizona and I walked one side of Bryce to the other and back. To me, gorge and canyon are similar.

The person below me has kayaked.

Yes, on a lake and liked it very much. I almost drowned white water rafting, so won't be doing that again anytime soon.

>>Because collecting yarn is weird (The rest of the world.) Hey, I'm not being critical- I collect fabric and I have no idea why. I don't sew, don't use it in any way, it's just when I see a pattern/texture I like, I buy it. Acid green taffeta? Yes, 10 yards, please. Vintage cowboy bark cloth? Sure, I'll take it and do you have any more? I know collecting is a compulsion with me (books and a lot of other stuff) but I can explain those. The thing I've got for fabric, I just don't get.

TPBM keeps it real.

Only because I have to.

TPBM wonders if some old people are just born bitter, or if they practice it so long they become perfect at it.

Sometimes. I think it may be a bit of both!

TPBM hates their boss & wishes he would go away!

Oh, my last boss was horrible. Awful! Mean. Petty. Small minded. Yucky. Bad. Insecure. Nasty. Cunning but not smart. I retired before I tried to do her some bodily harm.

The person below me has had to exert restraint with bosses or coworkers.

Usually. Although I have sometimes been able to get along with people other people find trying. My last boss was a peach. His boss, although nice on the surface, made my life miserable while my husband was dying. And I had a co-worker who drove me to tears, more than once. I would have quit, but one does not want to job hunt when one has a relative on a hospital bed in the living room.

Sigh.

TPBM likes Gene Autry (a piece about him is on the radio right now).

Really? Which piece? Ack-shully, I wouldn't be able to pick him out of a lineup.

Jeez, PB, I'm sorry you had to endure that added aggravation. You sound better now, I hope you feel better. Let me know if you want anyone punched in the throat.

TPBM collects movie posters.

///Aw, shucks, SomeGuy, thanks!//

Nope. Not a poster person these days. My 12-year-old self, though, had every boy band and girl pop group known to my generation hanging on the wall. Corner-to-corner posters - couldn't see the paint! Only problem? I felt creeped out changing in front of all those eyes so I had to change in the bathroom or my closet.

TPBM doesn't like changing in front of pictures either.

//PhaedraB, I'm sorry, too, that you had all that aggravation while you were trying to take care of your dying husband. You didn't deserve it. By the way, I love Gene Autry. He was my childhood hero. Hubby surprised me with a Gene Autry CD a few years back. Wasn't that sweet?//

Pictures don't bother me.

TPBM wishes a neighbor would close the blinds when said neighbor is naked.

Obviously, you've never seen my neighbor! Sadly, their bedroom is on the same side of the house as ours is on - that is to say, both are northeast-facing, and they're northeast of us, so there's no chance I'd have a view anyway.

TPBM has a favorite artist (of the picture-drawing variety).

None that are still living, unfortunately. I haven't hung any artwork in my house yet except for a Beryl Cook (not an original) that I really, really love. It makes me smile. Mostly I have oriental art.

The person below me has some artwork that she/he really loves.

Yes, a watercolour of Todmorden Moor, painted by a friend I was at art college with - I went to her first solo exhibition, and I just loved this one - it's hung over the fireplace in every home I've lived in since 1987 (and that's a lot of homes!)

TPBM still prefers to have physical photographs printed out rather than trusting them all to the "cloud".

Yes indeedy, all technology eventually breaks down, as well as all systems.

TPBM backs up their computer regularly.

hahahaha.
But maybe my husband does, she said hopefully.

TPBM also trusts others in his/her life to take care of some important things now and again.

Just the things I can't do or learn to do on my own. I'm a bit of a control freak where my own self-sufficiency is concerned and I'm not afraid to admit it. I grew up with two parents who have the "If you want something done right, do it yourself" mentality so I naturally picked it up from them. Situations (never people, just situations) I can't control frustrate me.

TPBM is much less of a control freak.

Hmm, not much less. I like to be in charge of things if at all possible.

TPBM sometimes feels blue. Maybe not today, but sometimes.

Yes, sometimes I feel blue, maybe even today. Hoping yoga class tonight will revive me.

TPBM needs to make a change in their life.

Yes. I need to get a job where the staff actually gets paid in something beyond health insurance.

The person below me has just such a job available, within commuting distance of Brooklyn, and for which I am qualified.

Sad to say, dearie, that I live nowhere near Brooklyn and have no jobs available (unless, of course, you would like to do occasional babysitting of a special-needs kindergartener and his baby sister, and wouldn't mind being paid in baked goods).

TPBM is pensive today.

Not pensive, but perilously close to twiddling my thumbs in the summer doldrums.

The person below me is feeling somewhat curmudgeonly today.

Nope, not curmudgeonly. Tired, bored, wistful for some free time to read, but not curmudgeonly.

TPBM has a job and can't wait until quittin' time.

Almost every week day!

TPBM also has a job that my 2+ years un-employed Other Half can have.

I would be happy to job-donate, but I already baled many years ago. Best of luck and fortitude!

The person below me has something to do but is finding many ways to avoid doing it.

Yyyyyyup.

TPBM has recently found help from an unlikely source.

That bottle of gin...??? Well, no.

Okay, this *has* to be true, but I've just not noticed it yet. I'll be on the lookout.

TPBM believes there is good in the world.

There is, and I help spread some joy around just by smiling at somebody who isn't expecting it. Believe it. You just can't always see it.

TPBM smiled at a stranger today.

And I'll have you know that I am NOT a Pollyanna.

Yes I did. Symonne, the check out clerk at the local food store. She was nice, just graduated from the same high school on the same day that my daughter did, and we had a nice conversation. So she's not a stranger any more.

TPBM had a salad for dinner.

I did along with a steak and potatoes. I over cooked the steaks just a little bit

TPBM has lost plenty of branches in the last couple storms.

No, but I would love for mother nature to do some of her pruning on our two Japanese Maples out front. I simply can't reach some of those upper branches that are dead, dead, dead.

TPBM has a splendid view of the moon tonight.

Well, now it's morning, but I seem to recall seeing the moon as I drifted off to sleep (I sleep under a window).

TPBM can suggest some awesome book related apps for the Iphone or Ipod.

I strongly recommend Eucalyptus. Outstanding piece of software that creates a linked table of contents for a book on the fly!

The person below me is dreaming about splurging on a new tablet device (Samsung Galaxy Tab of *any* size)

Nope, my rent just went up so splurging on anything is out in the near future.

TPBM has a Korporate Kulture observation they'll share with us.

I think Dilbert says it all and so much better than I!

The person below me enjoys thrift store shopping.

I wish I did, but I don't.

TPBM really thinks they have a chance of winning tomorrow's £166 million Euromillions lotto's Jackpot prize.

Bother! That must mean that I didn't clean up last Tuesday. Ho hum.

TPBM agrees that lotteries are a means of redistributing money away from the poor and harbours suspicions that nobody ever wins.

I tend to agree that the lottery is a tax on people bad at math. However, I do still by a ticket at least once a year.

TPBM buys a lottery ticket at least once a week.

No, less often than that. I have figured out that my lottery ticket-buying is negatively correlated with my current job frustration level. I was just thinking about wandering down to the corner store and buying one.....

TPBM also wishes her/his boss would play it a bit more straight.

Work is groovy baby, now. My last DR was insane and caused me a great deal of frustration. The mad may have strength and an animal cunning, but they aren't good at planning ahead. I sat tight, took some grief and gave some, then hit her hard over the head with a mighty rod of righteous indignation, and witness testimony backed up by a rather damning paper trail. Now I know why god wants to save all the vengeance for himself; it's pretty freakin' awesome.

ETA BTW, while it worked out for me because I'm ornery and lucky. Taking on your boss always puts your career in harm's way. Handle with care.

TPBM can look at a 60-something year old woman in a hysterical crying jag and think nothing more than they hope this doesn't mean they'll be asked to stay late.

No. I tend to wonder who died.

TPBM is tired of being tired.

I sure am tired of being tired. I think I've been tired for years. I better wake up soon because next week we'll be having a lot of company for a few weeks and they'll need to be fed.

TPBM has no problem cooking for 6 people with different tastes, one of whom is the fellow who lives here and who must not feel left out.

ETA and if you are that person below me, you must prove it by providing a plan of attack.

I think I'd attack them with a rolling pin, announce I wasn't a short order cook, and hand them the carryout menus. Or the car keys. Or both.

TBPM is more helpful than I.

I'd put out lots of snacks (I'd call them hors d'oeuvres but I'm not sure how to spell it) and open a bottle of red and a bottle of white.

TPBM will explain what "ETA" means.

"Edited To Add"

TPMB will explain their favorite obscure acronym.

Not too obscure, but one of my favorites is WTF, and I don't think it needs an explanation.

TPBM is relaxing and ready for the weekend.

I have been relaxing for this whole week!

The person below me gets discombobulated when they are leapfrogged here.

Nope. I acknowledge it happened, update my response, and get on with life.

TPBM has tired feet.

Since I sit most of the day, my feet are not tired today. But my brain is. It's making it hard to read Mrs. Dalloway.

//On an episode of "Modern Family," Phil suggested that WTF means "Why The Face?"//
ETA Oh, and thanks, PhaedraB for edifying me about what ETA means!

TPBM ate too much dinner.

Well I did eat quite a bit, but since most of it was salad I don't feel too bad about it. I had a lovely salad with chicken kabobs at a Turkish restaurant and then went to the opening of an art display of glass art.

TPBM has been to a museum or art exhibit recently.

Nope.

So, yeah. It's over now. He was still cheating and I caught him via text messages on his cell phone.

TPBM will remind me that I am Not Allowed to hog-tie him and feed him to piranhas.

Oh Rose. Damn. No, you're not allowed to hog-tie him and feed him to piranhas but you ARE allowed (and encouraged) to say "I deserve better than this." Because you do.

TPBM remembers making the hard self-caring choice to leave a lousy relationship, and now is glad s/he did.

That would be me. The end result was meeting MrsHouseLibrary 2 years after the divorce, and we've recently completed our 10th year of marriage.

TPBM can tell SRR how this past decade has been for me.

SRR, I'll send you a private message on Saturday or Sunday - time doesn't allow me now.
I am so sorry for your situation.

//Rose, that sucks. Before you do anything, consult an attorney. Money's an issue in these situations, so call the local womens shelter or your pastor and get info on free or low-cost legal counsel. Trust me, you need effective legal counsel ASAP. I don't know what the law in FL is, but even spending the night away from your primary residence may affect your rights in some manner (in VA, you could lose claim to your residence.) That doesn't mean you can't tell him to sleep on the couch. If you're away from your home now and feel safe, pack up the kids and return to where you live. Restrict your communications with him until you receive counsel. Do not threaten or menace him in any way, and do not lay a finger on him. If he becomes abusive, either verbally or physically, call 911 immediately. In fact, call if you even feel threatened. And for god's sake, take the bastard for everything he and his family are worth. Do exactly what the attorney tells you to do, even it it strikes you as being cruel or callous to your finance. If your attorney doesn't strike you as being a son of a bitch, you need to get a new attorney. You have entered into a game where every step is important, and you must secure peace and the wherewithal to raise your children in a nurturing and caring environment. So he needs to get out his wallet. Good luck, Rose, and do something nice for yourself. Get your 'Grrr' face on, girl.//

The past decade has treated WHL like a baby treats a diaper. Just look at the man- a human wreck, a shadow of his former self. If it weren't for the Post-It notes all over the place, he would not even be able to care for himself. Mrs. WHL is a saint, a Christian martyr.

TPBM is no longer surprised at what people will stick up their butt.

I've moved back in with my mom. I called my parents and sisters and friends and we moved me and the kids (and the dog) out of there tonight. It's a long story, but it's all here: https://penzu.com/p/66c612f8

//BTW, if you're not currently at home because you felt threatened or R was acting in a manner that made you feel unsafe either for yourself or your children, call the police from where you are and file a report. Remember, if you or your kids are threatened or you even feel threatened, call the police and file-a-report. Also, be very careful about what you put in emails, forum posts, etc.

ETA- OK, sounds like you moved back in with your mother because he abandoned you and the kids; that's a start. Stop writing stuff down. Don't leave voice mails. And if the rough play led to injury, get whatever reports may have been filed, and have counsel get a statement from witnesses.

Maybe I've been in DC too long, but my take on the family bringing him back seems like a CYA thing to me. Of course, you Rose have no comment because you haven't spoken with counsel. If the family has substantial assets, you can bet they either have or shortly will contact an attorney, and their attorney will advice them to play to the record and not the moment.//

Now I remember who I made an old lady cry. Good times.

# 225 - No, I used to go out with a hospital doctor, and the stories he told me were quite - alarming.

TPBM loves old black-and-white films.

//SRR - hope it works out for you. Not being in that relationship any more sounds like a very good thing indeed!//

//SRedRose, I know you're hurting, but it will get better. I'm glad you're rid of the creep.//

> SRedRose, You have so much courage to be able to take action. You can't change him and he really doesn't sound like he wants to change himself (especially since he has the next woman all lined up). Leave him, face that the dream of your life together is gone and then move forward. When I went through this, I was told, "Living well is the best revenge." They were right. Good luck. Create a life of happiness for yourself and your children.

228> Yes I do love some black and white films, but mostly I like good movies. No matter what the medium.

The person below me is planning to have pizza this weekend.

Hey, VirginGuy, just what do you do for a living? Your apparent range of experience sounds very interesting. You could write some good stories maybe. ;)

ETA I meant VirginiaGuy, sorry.

Tomorrow night, I think. The medium 'house special' just can't be beat for ten bucks!

//Rose, {{{hugs}}}, that's all I can offer.

TPBM has other, probably better, plans for a meal this weekend.

Well, not much - my husband's in Gourock all weekend, acting as a liaison officer for the Tall Ships Race (very vicariously exciting!), so tonight I'm treating myself and the cats to a takeaway Chinese and a nice fat book - I will miss him, but seeing as we're normally together 24/7, it's quite nice to have an opportunity to miss him!

TPBM loves MSG.

All I can say to you is "Umami!"

TPBM knows what comes after ABCD gol'fish

No freakin' idea.

> 233 treating myself and the cats to takeaway Chinese and a nice fat book --- sounds delightful! Enjoy!!

TPBM is looking forward to grilling chicken and making homemade salsa tonight.

I've got some grilled chicken in the freezer which I am going to defrost and toss on a salad, and I am having left-over chili for lunch in which I put the last of my salsa, so that's pretty close.

TPBM is also lingering over a cup of coffee and avoiding starting the chores they should do today.

> 234 LMNO Gol'fish
OSAR

I don't do coffee but my cereal is taking a bit longer than usual and I am being lazy about getting to things, probably because I just had a couple days off and I have to go back to work today.

TPBM doesn't want to go to/be at work either.

No, work is picking up and getting kind of exciting.

>>at- ABU8 gol'fish.
>> nhlsc- I coordinate the efforts of a team of eggheads. Everyone in DC is a lawyer, so I know as much about the law as people who watch crime shows know about forensics- just enough to screw up. And when it comes to watching people go through a divorce, this ain't my first time at the rodeo.

TPBM is in a sunny environ.

Well, not at the moment. It's raining. (Afternoon in Florida, after all.)

TPBM is contemplating a new project. (Or, TPBM can tell me what to do with this lovely soft purple yarn for which my previous project idea has proved unfeasible. Infeasible? Does it really matter? Either way I still can't do what I had originally planned to do and need a new idea!)

Well if it is soft purple I would suggest something for your lovely daughter (who, btw, is much better off without the example of a less than honourable man in her life).

TPBM is actually happy that the cooler, damper wetter means they don't have to water the flowers.

Sort of, but more happy that all the rain we had today didn't flood my kitchen, as is normally the case.

TPBM is glad his/her boss is on holiday for 3 weeks from today!

I hope that the boss that caused me to retire prematurely is on permanent vacation and desperate for a job, but knowing governmental cronyism I suspect the taxpayers are feeding him copiously.

The person below me will explain why WTF is not an acronym.

WTF is an initialism since it doesn't actually form a pronounceable word. Acronyms are like sonar or radar or such like. But most people use "acronym" to mean any commonly used group of initials standing for a phrase.

TPBM has a misnomer in mind that is in common usage and makes him or her irritated.

edited to correct typo

// O, ICD gol'fish!!!! //

I have quite a few -- too many, apparently, because I can't think of one right now.

//Da gol'fish thingy was one of my mother's favorites, along with the song "Around the Corner"
Around the corner,
And under a tree…

TPBM knows the next line.

Never heard of it.

TPBM is house-hunting.

Not hardly, I'm not moving into a new rental and buying is out of the question at this juncture.

OTDE gol'fish D!

TPBM is just starting the night.

Just got back from Chicago, and I have a Writer's Group meeting in the morning.
The only thing I'm starting is to feel really, really tired.

TPBM watched the Space Shuttle launch today.

Yes, if watching on television counts.

TPBM has watched every launch since the Shuttle launchings began.

No, I'm sorry to say. They usually occur before I am up. My niece was at this one though. She said the traffic was unbelieveable. But very cool to be there.

The person below me remembers where he or she was the first time man walked on the moon (that we know of).

Yes, In the living room watching TV - not quite comprehending how important it was. but I remember.

TPBM can imagine what the next such important universally memorable moment will be.

Yes, when we will all decide to wake up & solve the problems on this planet, rather than searching for another one to destroy!

TPBM also thinks that the billions (or dare I say trillions) spent on space exploration could have been put to much better use!

Nope, best investment this country made.

TPBM works or worked for their country's space exploration branch.

Only in my dreams! When I lived in New Jersey, I belonged to an Astronomy club. One of our members was a girl who was working on her degree (not sure which specifically) in Astro-something... She landed a job working with the Hubble Space Telescope.

TPBM already knew better than to try to write with a fountain pen when riding in an airplane.

Back when pentrace was much more active, this was a frequent topic. There was plenty of speculation, but most of the folks who actually wrote aloft suffered no indignities. Their biggest problem was with TSA thugs breaking their pens.

The person below me doesn't understand why anyone would go through all the fuss of using a fountain pen.

PS I am a licensed pilot who is afraid to fly commercially, so I haven't tried fountain pens in flight myself.

I think it's because some people think it shows intelligence, or so somebody told me. I don't see it myself. I had more ink leaks than allowed by law.

TPBM has never used a fountain pen.

I have, but not often and not for decades.

When I was in grade school, we were required to use ink cartridge pens, which I do not remember fondly. Changing cartridges was always a mess, and little kids are very good at getting messy. Why we used them, I could never understand until I was told that the idea was that we kids would use the ball points to scratch our names into desks or perform other acts of vandalism which one could not do with a cartridge pen.

TPBM remembers some other piece of special logic from their school days.

"Eat all of your vegetables - think of all the starving kids in China."

It makes as much sense as the middlepoor class paying for corporate giveaways and tax breaks for the obscenely rich.

TPBM is enjoying watching the Sun set.

//Mr.House, my sister, when she was about five and in all seriousness, told my mother that Mother could send all those starving kids her food.//

No, it is heading toward midnight. And we had rain at sunset tonight. Yippee!!!! A week ago we had .6 inch for the whole year so far and now we are getting closer to 3" I think.

The person below me likes a nice rain.

I've always found it's much easier to like a nice rain than a mean one.
On the other hand, it's so dry here, we'll take what we can get.

TPBM wears contact lenses.

Nope, allergic to the chlorine they put in the cleaning solutions.

TPBM has a bizarre allergy

I have lots of environmental allergies, apparently, although I've never gotten them identified. What's bizarre about them is that I didn't get them until I quit smoking. I guess all the gunk from the cigarettes kept the allergies from getting in. I'm glad I quit smoking but I actually feel worse now than I did before!

TPBM has similar problems so I won't feel so weird about it. Or they can tell me which planet I should have gotten a ticket for.

Oh boy, weird allergies -- I seem to be just a tiny but allergic to lots of things, especially grass seed (and for 13 years I lived in the Willamette Valley, proudly naming itself the "grass seed capital of the world"). In any case, #264, WELL DONE on giving up the cigarettes. I'm sorry you feel worse, but I fully believe your lungs are grateful.

TPBM has also given up something that took a lot of digging deep.

Just recently. Lying cheating sumbitch (my Southern is showing. I should really check that.) (He's already moved the girlfriend in, less than a day after I moved out, and tried to sell me some ridiculous story about how her ex kicked her out of the house that belonged to her and her mom. Just how stupid does he think I am to fall for that line of bullspit?) And of top of all that - I think I caught his bug. I've had a sore throat since yesterday and if it does what his did, I'll be heading to the doctor as soon as I start coughing so it doesn't put me out of commission for a week like it did him. I don't have time for that.

TPBM is not sick.

Hallelujah! But I'm sorry that you may be.

The person below is keeping the sabbath holy.

The what? Those words do not apply to me.

TPBM is by nature, a generally good and kind person.

I like to think so, and I certainly hope others would agree!

TPBM believes that sarcasm is highly underrated.

Absolutely! It's so darned fitting sometimes.

And I deserve to be the target of some because when I first read your line I thought you'd said overrated so I my first answer was a lot like the second but not quite.

TPBM tries to save their sarcasm just for the fools who need it most.

Where's the fun in that? I'm an equal-opportunity sarcasm-giver.

TPBM climbs trees.

In my youth. That was half a century ago. Makes a girl think.

TPBM will explain the reference.

I can't explain it. I used to climb trees too, before my center of gravity moved around to the back and began to demand close proximity to the ground.

TPBM will explain PhaedraB's reference.

From Some Like it Hot
SUGAR
You know I'm going to be twenty-five
in June?

JOE
You are?

SUGAR
That's a quarter of a century.
Makes a girl think.

JOE
About what?

SUGAR
About the future.

TPBM has a favourite Billy Wilder movie.

Jezebel with Bette Davis and Henry Fonda. (Whoops! Thanks to IMDB, I was faced with the reality that I'd muddled William Wyler with Billy Wilder. So I'm wrong. Carry on.) So now my answer is Ninotchka! He did the screenplay.

The person below me knows another good classic movie.

Ninotchka is pretty good - "Garbo laughs!" but I go for Camille - sobbing away - me, that is - at the end.

TPBM cries real tears in movie houses.

Mostly because of the amount of money I paid to see such crap - and for the cardboard-like popcorn.

TPBM will name the best movie s/he has seen that was released since the beginning of the Millennium.

Leaped!

Anything with kids leaving home will get me going; I think my hormones are still out off whack since I was expecting, even though the 'baby' was born two and a half years ago. We went to see 'The Lion King' musical recently, and I had to do a quick mop-up before the kids looked at me, in case they thought (realised) that mum had lost the plot. It was the third time of seeing it, and it's never made me cry before.

TPBM understands completely

Hum, I know I'll repent myself later, but at the moment I'd say 'Up'.

>>The Sun never sets in the British Empire, WHL.

TPBM is a savant. (For example, it complete mystifies me how Carord is always able to cite sources. Nice.)

I have an amazing amount of trivial information in my head, but am not in any way a savant. I had a teacher in high school who used to ask me random questions to which I always mysteriously knew the answers. He found it quite amusing. None of this is useful information in any way, of course.

TPBM is full of useful and practical information and will share some.

When headlights hit the eyes of a badger, they reflect back blue.

Old boyfriend of mine used to call it "jackdaw memory;" you hold on to anything bright and shiny whether it is in the slightest bit useful or not.

TPBM was unbeatable at Trivial Pursuit

Not always, but often enough that people I know don't care to play it anymore.

TPBM is a Chess master or will admit to owning a Thigh Master. Either one is acceptable.

Never played chess and have never even seen a Thigh Master.

TPBM is feeling playful.

Sorry, Rose, no playfulness here. Just tired. Spent the weekend repairing the irrigation system in the back garden (and it's a small garden!) and it took waaaaaay longer than anticipated. My feet hurt, my hands hurt, and I hardly got to read at all. :-(

But, it's a lovely Sunday evening, I'm checking in on LT, and getting ready to read a bit. Oh, and I've got a tasty glass of red wine at my side.

TPBM also accomplished something this weekend.

Yes. I slept until almost 4:00pm. Yay!

TPBM always gets up too early.

It sure seems that way - every stinking time I wake up.

TPBM wants another cup of coffee - not to be mistaken with whether it'd be a good time of day to ~have~ coffee, mind you.

281;I just put my Trivial Pursuit game in the church garage sale yesterday. No one in my family will play w/ me b/c I always win. However I am completely hopeless at most card games. My uncle once told me I knew more useless knowledge than anyone he knew. This was before trivial pursuit was invented, so he was wrong, :)

Gah! No! Right after I play a few rounds of poker with tel I'm going to bed. I've been out of town all weekend drinking with my dad's friends and they about killed me. If one of the wives hadn't complained about the hour (it was 10), I'm pretty sure dad's best man from his wedding was going to drag me to Williamsburg's only titty bar. Which is an hour away in Richmond.

TPBM is also going to turn in.

Soon, yes. But my evening was much less exciting than yours! Just red wine, a good book, a long, sunny evening, and exhaustion from working in the yard all weekend. I would rather have been drinking and playing poker.

TPBM once (or twice) won big at a casino.

while I wish I could say it was true, sadly I can't. There is nothing more angering to me than gambling, something about spending money and getting nothing in return just makes me wanna stab someone in the eye.

TPBM can make a suggestion.

Let's play a game! Oh, we already are...

The person below me is in a good mood. (I'm not. I have to do things I don't want to tomorrow. Sigh.)

Yes, I am. For the first time in over a week I'm not in pain or woozy from meds. I can see perfectly out of the operated on eye and I get the bandage contact lens out today! Now I can resume my normal life, after I do laundry, I think we each only have clean clothes for today and tomorrow, DH doesn't do laundry.

TPBM got a nice rain last night, as we did here in sunny AZ.

I don't recall any rain last night. But it's been raining a lot here lately so maybe.

TPBM has a lot to do today.

Indeed. I'm leaving tomorrow for a three-week road trip and I'm feeling very unprepared. Mostly because I'm sleepy, so I'm not as alert and thinking as I feel I need to be. Plus it's going to be 95 in the shade today, and I had planned to go digging around in my storage locker. Maybe not.

TPBM is having lovely weather.

Hasn't had a chance to get unbearably hot yet, though it is awfully humid.

TPBM has gone berry-picking lately.

Well, I did try one of the half-grown raspberries from the front garden today - not very sweet, but they should be good in a couple of weeks!

TPBM has an unusual skill.

Just by being here, all of us have an unusual skill or are curve busters of some kind. I don't guess it's a skill, but I found out during dental surgery that I have an unusually high pain threshold. Not that I'll let that stand between me and a tasty Rx.

I'll use the same kicker- TPBM has an unusual skill.

I am about the only person in the whole family who can tell my MIL when she's acting like her mother, without the woman going into hysterics.

TPBM knows people who try so hard not to be 'like' someone they succeed into mirroring them

Yep. It's the old desire to be a non-conformist, resulting in being so focused on what others are doing that one becomes an anti-conformist and is just as ruled by what everyone else is doing as if one were a conformist!

Or something like that.

TPBM is not confused.

Never.

Okay, fine. Pretty often.

TPBM has a secret guilty pleasure.

Of course not.

TPBM marches to the beat of a different drummer.

I've always been partial to Ed Thigpen myself.

TPBM bangs the drum slowly. And catches the reference.

Play the dead march as you carry me along the streets of Laredo, I guess. Every time I go to an orchestral concert I realise that I really should have learned to play the tympani.

TPBM has an unrequited desire

Yes - to be a millionaire, so I wouldn't have to work at my poxy job!

TPBM isn't considering turning in for the night at 8:30pm!

No reason not to; it'd give me plenty of time to read before I turned out the light.

The person below me believes that regular sleep hours are just too middle class.

I think they are essential for good health. Too many people don't even know what it's like to be fully rested and alert anymore. We've ruined our circadian rhythms with all that damned artificial light.

TPBM lives somewhere where they can see the stars.

Some of them, though I don't get out to see them nearly as often as I did Before Children.

TPBM has made new friends recently.

I really hit it off with some of my dad's friends, so I guess so.

TPBM recently had a passing encounter with an enchanting stranger and will dish.

SomeGuy on a message board asked if he could use me as a character reference, and I said "yes," although I don't think he's much stranger than most folks.

TPBM thinks SomeGuy really is stranger than most folks.

ETA: Oh, wait, I think it was an alibi he needed. Yes, that's it -- an alibi.

It was an alibi and you were supposed to be in court last Friday. And no, I'm but a simple country lad.

TPBM grew up in Manhattan, London, Paris, or Rome.

SomeGuy is strange? I haven't really noticed.

TPBM will cite example to convince me otherwise.

I did not grow up in Manhattan, London, Paris, or Rome, and I'm feeling too lazy to cite examples of SomeGuy's strangeness.

I have had a very difficult afternoon/evening. So I'm going to drown my sadness with a root beer float and try distracting myself by multitasking. TV and a crochet project might just do the trick.

TPBM is fluent in a language other than the usual English, Spanish, or French.

Fluent might be a stretch today, but I used to be a Chinese (Mandarin) interpreter/translator.

TPBM also has an Asian second (or maybe first) language.

Ha! I am so pathetically monolingual it's embarrassing. I did take high school French (and used it to some good effect in France a few years ago), but I have not waded into Asian language territory.

TPBM was actually in court last Friday.

I could have been if I hadn't gotten through Airport Security successfully.

TPBM is optimistic.

Utterly. If you expect the worst, you might get what you wish for ...!

TPBM has a scar with an interesting tale behind it.

Dozens.
Two from two different bicycle accidents.
Two from the motorcycle accident.
One from a chain saw.
One from a weed cutter.
One from a church.
One from an axe.
Two from a knife.
The rest are emotional ones, mostly from my ex, ThiMs.

Pick one, except from the last entry, and I'll tell you the story.

TPBM will choose, but mostly out of morbid curiosity.

The church. I am imagining many things...

The person below me is WHL and will tell about his church scar.

No, I'm not, and no I won't. But that is the one I would have picked!

TPBM is, and will.

Is packing and will leave by ten, really, really, really.

TPBM is WHL, and will tell. But I won't see it.

I'm not WHL either but I'm very, very curious.

TPBM is finally WHL and will 'fess up about the church thing.

Nope but if you like I can lie, pretend I am and make something up?

Until WHL shows up, TPBM will tell us instead if he could only have one meal every day for the rest of his life, which meal he would choose.

///If y'all are looking for WHL, I saw him headed down the street in the other direction. Might have to wait a while. He was muttering about having to be in court for some galldurnfoolidjut. //

Pancakes. Love them

I want to hear the story about how a church fell on WHL, too. Dude- WAKE UP. TPBM is either WHL and will tell, or will pick up the pretend story started below:

"One day, not soon after burying his cousin, the Wicked Witch of the East, WHL was busy grinding the noses of the poor when suddenly the Mayor of Munchkin Land, who was some distance away picking a gladiola for his lapel, said to himself, "There's another building falling from the sky. Looks like a church to me; I wonder if this is going to become a regular occurrence?"...

I suppose I wouldn't care what the meal was as long as it wasn't gross and it lasted a long time. And I could take breaks from eating. So in that case I guess it should be cooked meat and many many vegetables and desserts. A buffet! That's it. At a really good Chinese restaurant.

TPBM is still waiting for WHL and the church story.

Continuation of SGIV story .........

Well, sure as you know it, it was a church, just as the Mayor had predicted. And where did it land, but right next door to one of WHL's sweat shops, the one where he kept small children making glorious hats adorned with plumage from every bird imaginable....

TPBM will continue (sorry WHL, but this might be fun) the story.

Now, to get these beautiful feathers, WHL had to search through the deepest, darkest jungles of West Baloogaland, the most dangerous territory known to man, beast and other fell creatures. But did he go himself? Why, no. He hired men from the local Manaja tribe. And did they go themselves? Why, of course not; they wouldn't dare the depths of that jungle. They forced the pygmies who lived on the fringes of the jungle to do their dirty work. But these pygmies had a dark and terrible religion, and little did WHL know what dreadful revenge was to be wrought on him ...

TPBM will continue the story, unless they are WHL, who will give us the true version.

For it turns out that one of the birds captured by the enslaved and vengeful people of the jungle was a bird with incredible magic powers, and plucking even one beautiful feather from this bird's plumage unleashed that bird's power, including its ability to make a man's hair fall out, ALL of his hair fall out..... and stigmata to appear on his hands......

To repeat, TPBM will continue the story, unless they are WHL, in which case they will give us the true version.

Truth be told, I like your (collectively) story much better...

Those of you in the northern New Jersey may be familiar with the place. It was a Southern Baptist church in Waldwick. Architecturally, from the street, or maybe the air (come of think of it), it was 2 buildings that were supposed to look like an altar (in the foreground) and a mostly upright, open book (the bible, but I could be mistaken) behind it. I know that it had several structural weak points, and was almost constantly in a state of repair from leaks in the roof and sheetrock splitting in the upper parts of the walls, and I believe it was eventually torn down entirely and replaced. This was the church that my friend's (Dave - who now lives in Shreveport) family attended. The area between the two buildings was a steep pit with a drainage grate in the bottom. The "book" part of the church was on the higher ground towards the back. The "altar" was on lower ground as the property sloped towards the street, but from the front, it looked like a single-story structure. In fact, two stories were entirely below ground, exposed only from the back side. And the entrances were accessed by a series of stairs that would take you either down to the first floor or up to the second floor. Spanning the width of the second floor, attached to the edges of the 'Altar" to the sides of the open stairs was (for lack of a better term) angle iron. This was galvanized "L"-shaped steel, flat across the top and downward in the back, each plane perhaps four inches from their common point, and about thirty feet long, bolted to the stairs and mounting plate at the ends of the building. It didn't make any sense to me as to what function they served, but considering the problems with structural integrity of the "Book", it didn't surprise me these useless-seeming pieces of metal were there, too.

The time period was the late 60s when I was in high school, and the incident took place during the summer between my Junior and Senior year. I, at the time, was already several years into agnosticism, questioning the whole is-there-a-god thing. This incident had NOTHING to do with my ultimate choice in the matter. I just want to get that out in the open now.

Dave was one of the guys in two of the garage bands I played drums in. He was a good lead singer, and played bass fairly well, and it was his set of drums that was added to the two others I used that gave me a massive range of sound and percussive texture to our covers of the songs of the time. It also slightly made up for the fact I couldn't do a decently tight drum roll even if my life depended on it; I was able to do other, interesting things, like switch which direction I faced while I was playing because I had 3 bass drums and 3 high-hats to work with. I even had all the drums tuned to different notes.

Music and girls were pretty much everything to us in those days, so when he told me that there was this musical group that was doing a show at his church (I bet you were wondering by now if I had forgotten the point of this story...) I of course said I'd like to hear (no pun intended; I'll explain later) them. What he didn't tell me was that this was a Baptist Youth Ministry from San Antonio, and they had a full tour schedule the entire summer at various other Baptist churches around the country. There were 3 busloads of teen-aged kids and chaperons - both parents of several of the kids, and it made me wonder how the parents were able to get the entire summer off to do this. They weren't ALL school teachers. They had all their luggage and instruments and sound and light equipment packed on the buses.

So, they were going to be there all week, put on 3 shows, sight-see in New York City one day, and whatever, maybe have some free time. It never dawned on me that this might be a religion-oriented show at all. "Up with People" sounded fairly secular to me, and certainly, a lot of the tunes were nicely done covers of popular songs of the past ten or so years. I payed particular attention to how the guitarist played 'Norwegian Wood", because I had just started playing the guitar about 6 months earlier. I was also mostly profoundly-deaf from being ill-placed in front of the amplifiers every weekend at rehearsals and gigs my bands had. I started playing the (acoustic) guitar because I couldn't not-do something musically while my ears were in strict recovery mode. Dave tuned my guitar for me while I felt the vibrations in the box of the guitar. Eventually, I could tune it without his help, and learned chords when it wouldn't frustrate me by hearing how terribly I muted the strings. So, I learned to play "Norwegian Wood" by watching (not hearing) this guy play it once, and going home and mostly figuring it out on my own (my older brother's, really) guitar. And then there was all these hand-holding-with-your-neighbor prayers and 'praise' songs they threw into the mix, and I realized what this was really all about. Despite that, I went back with Dave to the other two shows, more as a favor to him, but partly because this blond-haired girl seemed to take a liking to me. In retrospect, I believe it was part of the 'ministry' aspect of them doing the show. I had gotten pretty good at reading lips, and I what I could hear was mostly muffled, more like white noise than verbage, so between the two, I could carry on a conversation, despite still being a very shy person; which is why I started playing drums in the first place - girls ALWAYS go for the drummer.

Well, one aspect of every show is the money you can make selling refreshments, and one aspect of refreshments is the containers they come in get empty and have to be disposed of. After the shows, Dave and I (being somewhat responsible teenagers, and he of course had to be the example for the younger kids in his church) would pick up the trash left by other, less civic-minded people. The refuse was put into any of several garbage cans that were kept near the stairs - an area that, at night, was not illuminated by the spotlights focused for safety on the stairs. It was here, after the second show that my left eye socket met that piece of angle iron as I leaned down to remove the lid from a second-row garbage can.

Have you ever been in one of those situations where all other activity stops when a loud, abrupt noise occurs? That was mine. The only sound afterward was the angle iron vibrating at a perfect low Bb pitch, I'm told. Someone got me some ice wrapped in a paper towel; the minister said it looked okay. Dave and I walked home that evening, me with my left hand holding a quickly-melting ice cube to my eye, the water and blood mixing and dripping down my arm and off my elbow. A five-mile hike was nothing to us, as we routinely ran fifteen miles each morning before school. By the time I got home, the area above my eye was very swollen, making the gash look a lot worse than it really was. My folks wanted to take me to the hospital, but I refused, thinking that stitches would actually hurt more than I already did, and all I needed was more ice. The thought that I might have a concussion never entered my mind. So, my folks decided they'd check on me every couple of hours throughout the night, and if I didn't respond, it wasn't my choice anymore.

I kept ice on it, went to the last show - really wanted to nail down "Norwegian Wood" - and I looked like I had gotten hit by a car. Instant chick magnet, let me tell you. I was told to not bother with litter detail, and the garbage cans had a new location.

TPBM also prefers the other story.

**collective breath holding**

hurry, WholeHouse!

//Srsly. Your parents took you to a wedding held at the local church and as soon as you saw it you started freaking out, they couldn't even get you out of the car and had to take you home. It happened right after that time at the zoo the gorillas tried to attack you.//

*// Look up at #328 //*

//Now we know where you've been. Typing!//

Well, the other story was easier to read... smaller segments... gah. Lots of text to read when my brain is NOT in a "focus" mood!

TPBM managed to read the entire story in one sitting despite the 8 million distractions in their house.

No distractions, and I read only a few sentences.

The person below me reads everything that crosses their scan on the World Wide Web.

Well, I read alot of stuff. My work-related RSS feeds encompass some 300 blogs. And then I watch Twitter during the day and now I've got whatever people are sharing over on Google+. Unlike Robert, I'm dreadfully distracted.

The person below me still pays some attention to book blogs.

I never paid any attention to book blogs, and I seldom read ANY blogs. I spend most of my time on forums, where there is conversation happening.

TPBM has dinner plans.

Yes. I plan to eat.
I read all of Mr. House's story. Thank you, Mr. House.
I tried twice to complete the collective story and hit a wrong key each time, thus erasing my efforts. I shall try again with my next post.

TPBM is eagerly awaiting the end of the collective story.

//The end of the collective story.

The frightened WHL released the Magic bird from its cage. The bird was called a Foo, which is West Baloogalandese for Magic or Evil. The pygmies warned WHL and his group that if the Foo covered them with Foo poo-poo, it was very bad luck to wash it off. As luck would have it, the Foo emptied its bowels on top of the hapless group. The Foo-poo-poo had an odor most foul, and soon WHL could stand it no longer. He washed the Foo poo-poo off his head. He immediately found himself remarried to his former terrible wife. He clutched his head and screamed. Poor WHL.

The moral to this story is
"If the Foo sh*ts, wear it."//

Yes.

TPBM will tell us their favorite genre of fiction.

No special favorite, because I'm pretty eclectic; have tried just about all genres
except vampire yarns, werewolf yarns and all-purpose Horror.

TPBM will tell us which one she/he would first seize upon, if limited to these 6
genres: (1) a "Cowboy" fiction (2) a pop. non-filction treatment of the Old West
(3) Science fiction 4. Science fact 5. Horror Fiction 6. Horror Fact (e.g. a scenario of
nuclear war in the near future).

Oh definitely! #4 Science fact.

#339 - He screams and jumps off a bridge. Thanks.

TPBM is already sleepy.

Well considering its 741 pm and I just woke up from a nap, I'll prob be up for a while.

TPBM hasn't actually read their current book in a couple days.

Actually, I'm totally engrossed in my current book. But my "your books" tab was not working earlier today and it made me *crazy*.

//339 --> LOL! Nice ending! WHL --> please, no jumping. //

TPBM is just waking up and had an interesting dream.

No, I'm just getting ready for bed. Previous dreams?Hmmm. I used to dream about dinosaurs when I was a little girl. They were always trying to step on me.

The person below me remembers nice dreams.

I do have nice dreams occasionally, interspersed between the ones that wake me up terrified I am back in my 30s and living a life I did NOT like at the time!

TPBM has a period in their life they try to blot out of their memory

The years between my son's 15th birthday and his 20th. We struggled with drug use, drinking, rehabilitation, failing grades, visits to the principal's office, visits to the police station, mandatory psychiatry for the whole family and when you throw in my in-laws who kept telling DH it was my fault, I'd just as soon those years were permanently erased from my memory.
TPBM will tell us a memory they hold close and dear

My son's first steps. He's disabled, so he didn't take them till he was 3 1/2. He had to be supported by the physical therapist, but he moved his feet to walk without help or prompting.

TPBM has a favorite memory to share too.

Age 6. Playing in the surf at Sanibel Island (Gulf Coast of Florida) with my sister, who would have been about 23 at the time. This was mid-60s. Sanibel was not built up. The gulf was shallow and the salt water was warm and you could walk out for a long distance before getting into the light surf. We were trying to get both of us up on a canvas raft. I'd get on, then she'd try to join me. We'd capsize. So she'd get on, then I'd try to join her. We'd capsize. Repeat. We were both laughing uproarously and it's always been one of my very favorite memories.

TPBM has another nice memory involving salt water.

Fishing with my Dad - I think he was more excited than I was when I caught my first legal sized striped bass. (16 inches- long ago-I was 12, I think - limit is now larger to protect the breeding stock) We had a standing date when I was in college to go flounder fishing Thanksgiving morning. Meant we had to do dish duty instead of cooking, but the company was good.

TPBM has a different good memory of a parent.

Dad and I having lunch when I was in my late 20s working at a mfg company in Los Angeles and he was consulting (after retirement) with his old company in another part of Los Angeles. We'd meet at The Buggy Whip, one of his favorite restaurants, and talk like civilized human beings. We did NOT discuss religion or politics.

TPBM has a good memory involving a parent-in-law.

The first time I heard Dad swear. No wait, that was when I accidentally hit him on the head with a chair.

I meant the second time. Both my parents were ultra-strict Catholics - Mass every Sunday, and sometimes during the week, Novenas, Rosary Society, having a four-foot tall statue of Mary in our house for a week at a time to pray to... Dad was in the Knights of Columbus. He also spent seven years in a Jesuit seminary before he decided it wasn't for him. In a purely coincidental sequence, his younger brother joined that seminary a year before my father left it, and another year later, my father met my mother, who, for a time, had dated said younger brother. Growing up, if we said anything that even remotely sounded like a swear word, soap was applied liberally to the tastebuds. My father, who had been a member of the KoC since he was teenager, quit said organization because the other members swore too much. That's the way my folks rolled.

Skip ahead several decades. My folks were retired and living in Florida. Dad had emphysema, and two huge aneurysms on his aorta, but had already lived longer than every member of his family (including ancestors) by almost twenty years, except one. So, he was in fragile health, but when he felt good , which was most of the time, he was a very happy, active, jovial fellow. If, however, anyone in the State of Florida so much as sneezed, his emphysema would flare up, and it was touch-and-go for him for several weeks in the ICU.

I moved from New Jersey to Texas with my family back in '89. My youngest son was born six weeks later. I had vacation time to burn and was lucky to get the two weeks around Festivus off. My then-wife decided we were going to spend the time with her parents, who lived in Pensacola, and that we were going to drive there and back. We had a brand new minivan, and "we" took the better part of two days to get there. She never got behind the wheel once. We had a very nice time, despite the deep freeze that occurred, and that in itself is still a nice memory for me (not the freeze, the time with her family).

My father has spent most of October and November in the hospital, so part of the driving to Florida plan (and agreed to by then-wife) was that I would be able to fly from Pensacola to Sarasota, about 20 miles from my parent's place) and spend a couple of days with them, and return well before any holiday festivities were going to happen. My in-law's house was literally within easy walking distance from the airport, but my father-in-law gave me a ride anyway.

The hot-ticket electronic item in 1989 was a VHS player and although the better-quality Beta-max players were still readily available, they were much bulkier devices, and it was clear to me that it was losing the Format War. Still VHS player were pretty darn expensive, so it required ALL of my siblings to chip in and buy one as our parent's gift on Christmas. My oldest brother lived (and still does) in Sarasota, so he picked me up at the airport and gave me a ride to the folk's place. The plan was that I would spend a couple of days with our parents and we'd have an early Christmas celebration so I could get back to my own family in plenty of time. My older brother was the one who ultimately purchased the folk's gift, and was very happy that he wasn't going to be the sole sibling representative, mostly because he was a technically-challenged person; couldn't figure out how electric pencil sharpeners worked.

I was flying back to Pensacola on the 23rd, so we had our small celebration the evening of the 22nd. There was a small "formal" dinner, and coffee and afterwards, out came the gifts. I had the foresight to bring a mostly-empty suitcase because on the return trip, it was packed full of presents for my then-wife and the kids. Needless to say, my folks were in awe of their present. Actually, my mother had no idea what it was, so I realized which side of the family my oldest brother got his techno-genes from. My father, on the other hand, was quite excited because it became a way for him to see movies without the risk of picking up some illness in a crowded theater. My brother was also able to purchase a few movies for them to enjoy. So, on to the business of setting it up. They had cable TV, so it was a matter of what wires went where in this new configuration. Mind you, this was a VHS player. Recorder/players wouldn't be on the market for another year or two. It took all of twenty minutes, mostly due to ergonomics - maneuvering to get behind the TV set without knocking over the adjacent floor-standing knick-knack shelves. Mission accomplished. Meanwhile, my father was reading the owner's manual, trying to familiarize himself with the remote control. In contrast to my mother's family, everyone on my father's side was technically competent. Reading a manual was mostly an act of CYA - glance briefly at the words, pay only slightly more attention to the diagrams - that way, you're covered because, yes, of course I read the manual; you SAW me read it. We hit the power button and the power indicator lit up, and we heard the gentle whirring of the drive motors rev up to speed, and watched the display flash "12:00"... "12:00"... "12:00"... every two or three seconds. We could see that it quickly annoyed my father. Part of this was a side-effect of his Emphysema meds, but really, we all hate to see that repetitive flashing of the erroneous time on the display.

I don't recall his exact words, but my father then uttered something to the effect of, "Now, how do you set the time on this damned thing?" Not quite believing our ears, my brother and I looked at each other for silent verification of what we thought we heard pass through the lips of our now-shocked father. Then we turned towards him, and his face contorted from slack-jawed incredulity to a grin. "Damn," he said, "damn, damn, damn!", and he giggled. "You know, that actually feels pretty good!" We were bug-eyed and laughing out loud at this utterly unexpected behavior from Dad. My guess is that for the first time in his life, he let his guard down and allowed his humanity overrule his strict religious training, and he was a better person because of it.

Let's keep it going - TPBM has a different good memory of a parent.

I was 6 or 7 and in the dentist's chair. The doc wanted to give me a shot for something, probably to pull a loose tooth or whatever. I'd had a shot before and hated them, so I said 'no' and jumped out of the chair. The dentist tried to get me back in but I kept the chair between me and him. Finally he called my mom in and explained the situation-- he was probably hoping for and I was worried about a stern parental command to return to the chair. Instead, mom said 'If he said no, then it's no. Come on honey, let's go home.' As soon as she got out of the office she started laughing.

>>Snort! Good thing you have a head as hard as a grizzly bear, WHL.

TPBM has another.

My mother never used to swear and so neither did we children. However, my C's family are all lively, rip-snorting, mostly normal people (terrified of my mother since she is a minister). One day Mom was visiting C and I and wanted to take a picture of us. We posed, but the camera didn't work. She fiddled with it, we posed, and again it didn't work. My mother said "Oh you Bad Thing."

C has never gotten over that.

My Daddy was/is my favorite person in the whole world. One Christmas Eve, before there were convenience stores open on every other corner, we realized that we didn't have anything for Santa to leave Snookie (my toy collie) and her puppies. Daddy took me out, and we searched for about 30 minutes before we found a store open. Luckily, the store had a little toy rack, and we found some balls and squeaky toys. I have so many fun things with Daddy that I could write a looooooooon time.

This is fun. TPBM will continue with a parent story.

No, but I've bought balls and squeaky toys in a store, too. I've always kept pets. OK, I have a grandparent story that involves bad language- my maternal grandmother was a dragon. I mean that with great affection and the highest respect, but she didn't suffer fools gladly. She was, however, a true belle and I never heard her swear until one day after my grandfather had been dead for a few years, when she and I were talking and she described something someone had done as 'complete shit'. Her use of profanity left me literally struck dumb in wonder.

TPBM also has their tale to tell.

Our telephone was in the den at one end of the house. The kitchen was at the other end of the house. My mother was in the kitchen one day when I answered the telephone. It was for her. As was customary in our house I called out for my mother. She came promptly, took the telephone from me, and hit me in the head with it for shouting rather than coming for her.

The person below me will also tell of violence done them by their parents.

My parents were never violent with me.

TPBM wants to just... GO.

No. I want to just.....NAP

But if you want to go Rose, you should. Can your Mom watch the kids so you can get out for a even a little?

TPBM has another good grandparent story

My father's mother lived with us - I think she came to Southern California from Nebraska when I was 2 or so. Her only son, his wife (of whom she didn't approve), eventually 3 children. "Mom" always told me she was 39. I had no reason to disbelieve her until the year my Dad turned 39 (He was 32 when I was born). When I asked her how Dad could be 39 if she was 39, she totally shocked me by telling me that she was actually 78. I remember how stunned I was at the news.

TPBM has had someone lie to them about their age.

My parents were always quite open about their ages and were in mid-40's when I was born. When I was 3, we moved, and I apparently charmed the neighbor working in her garden by rattling off all sorts of details about the family, including ages of 3 kids and parents. After that my dad told me he was 16, until I was old enough to know better.

TPBM has lied about his/her age for some good reason.

The only time I ever lied about my age was when I first got a computer, I was like 14 and my friends and I would go onto chat rooms and tell people we were 16 or 18 because that was the cool thing to do at the time. Other than that I've never lied about my age. I was never a big party-er/partier? (my spell check is saying both are wrong) so I didn't try to use fake ID's or anything like that and if we wanted booze, we'd just raid one of our parents liqueur cabinets.

TPBM can tell me the correct spelling for someone who parties.

Instinct says "partier" but spell-check says that's wrong.

TPBM has a working Shut-Up Filter.

Well, it works on and off. It *mostly* works when I'm at work. Whew.

TPBM has a partNer who wonders about her/his obsession with LibraryThing.

// http://www.yourdictionary.com/partyer -- scroll down to the bottom of the page. //

Thanks Boobalack for the dictionary entry.

And no, My BF is totally ok with my constantly being on LT and GR. He really doesn't care much what I do online as long as it stays paid so he can play his games online. We've all got our things.

TPBM is angry at their cat for doing stupid cat things.

My cat has spent most of the evening stretched out on my lap purring while I've been reading. Hard to be mad at her for that. Still, I miss her brother.

"GR"?

TPBM is going camping this weekend.

//GR = GoodReads, I know its kinda cheating on LT, but I'm all about the free books, so I'm ok with it//

I'm not going camping anytime soon, but my son leaves for 2 weeks of camp including an overnight camping/hiking trip so we are surrounded by lists and equipment.

TPBM has never camped.

Camped, hiked, kayaked, etc. Going on family campout next weekend. Hope the weather stays nice. Had some slackers who brought "campers" for several years, but looks like everyone's tenting this year.

TPBM isn't one for the great outdoors.

I'm fond of it in medium doses, if the weather's good and there's a nice pub at the end of the walk ...

TPBM is a demon canasta player.

No, but lay out that Cribbage board and I'll challenge you. I was a pretty good Bridge player back in the day. My family (birth family) is amazed at this as none of them every played anything but solitaire or war, Grandmother did no approve of card playing.

TPBM is not WHL and will tell a pet story.

Well, there was the day I determined that my red-haired doxie was really blond. I brushed him on the back patio so the extra fur wouldn't be left in the house. After I put his collar back on him, he took off as fast as his little legs could carry him straight toward the CLOSED sliding glass door (dunno why; we'd used the hall bathroom door to get there) and ran, nose-first, straight into it. I think he was more surprised than hurt, because he got right up and looked at the door like it had just materialized out of nowhere. And then looked around as if to say, "Nobody saw that, right?"

TPBM has a different pet story.

A cat story.
In our house, the animals stay on the floor. (Sorry, I know this might offend many pet people, but for us, the battle with fur is best kept off the upholstery.)

We allowed a cat to adopt us, but we struggled a bit with this rule. There was one rocking chair that he tried to claim. I would shoo him off each time. I finally knocked the chair upside down, and he got the idea. However, the next time I looked, there was a dried up piece of cat poo placed directly in the center of the cushion.

His opinion of the rule was clear, but he honored it after that.

This is the same cat who, when I busted out an old drain pipe and released a rat into the basement, calmly executed a search and destroy mission. He feasted on tuna for the next month.

TPBM has a snake story.

An old boyfriend's children had a pet snake, a small skinny white one called Snowy. They used to feed him frozen mouse foetuses, which I personally found disgusting, but that's nature for you. One afternoon when I went round to their home, Snowy was fast asleep (or something!) in one of the kid's trainers. When we went to go out a couple of hours later, Snowy was not in the trainer nor anywhere else to be seen. We searched that house high and low for days on end for that little snake, but never found him. The boys' mother wouldn't set foot in the place for months - so that was one good thing that came out of it! We reckon the poor little chap maybe got out into the garden and froze to death. RIP Snowy!

TPBM will tell us a true horror story involving a spider or an insect.

I might of told this one before. I was in Coimbra at the site of the of the Old Monastery of Santa Clara (the New Monastery is not far away on the hillside). It was begun in 1286 on the banks of the Mondego river and finished in 1314, when it promptly sank into the soft earth. When I was there, it wasn't really a tourist attraction, simply an abandoned ruin and half buried in the ground; it looked like something out of Planet of the Apes.

A bunch of us were in the nave; one of the columns springing from the earth ended in a flat surface about 10 feet up and I decided I was going to climb it to take a cool picture. I hauled myself up and came face to face with the largest spider I have ever seen in my life. It could have eaten me whole. I began swearing, let go and didn't stop swearing until a friend asked me what the commotion was about. When I told him, he wanted to see the spider and I said that was an exceptionally bad idea. He couldn't get up there, I wasn't going to help him and none of the rest of us was that interested in mutant spiders. I've always hated spiders, but that was like something out of MR James.

TPBM is going to a midnight showing tonight of the last Harry Potter movie.

I am not. But I know some people who are.

TPBM is going loose-change-hunting in the furniture.

I think my mother planted change inside the furniture in a successful ploy to get us to vacuum most thoroughly. My children were not so well trained - it would be scary to put an arm down under their cushions.

So, no. Let it lay.

TPBM has an almost full change jar and will tell what it's dedicated to.

Not a change jar, but an Altoids box envelope of catsitting earnings, set aside for spending at Rhinebeck. Any leftovers will be coming with me when I visit a good friend a week or so later, and will be spent at the Texas Book Festival.

The person below me is also saving up for something.

Would be Rhinebeck, if I had enough to get there and back too! So it's just general savings for now.

TPBM keeps plants.

I keep plants - from growing, apparently. And I'll be saving my change so I can remember what money looks like. Life is not so good right now - not the money part anyway.

TPBM has no idea what to ask the TPBthat so let's hear another funny story please about pets.

I have a cat who thinks it's quite amusing to bring live chimpmunks, flying squirrels, and mice in through the cat door in the bedroom, any time day or night. Then the other cat, and dogs start a crazy ruckus trying to catch it and I have to get them all out and chase a critter around the room until it finds the door to the outside (which can sometimes take awhile because scared wild critters are not too bright about things like that).

TPBM is relaxing with a glass of wine.

Once I had a big, black male cat named Henry. We eventually got him a friend -- a little white cat named "Little Joe." Little Joe was still a small kitten. When I'd put out food for them, in separate plates, Little Joe would run in between Henry's legs and start eating Henry's food. Henry put up with it for a while, but one day, he grabbed a hunk of cat food and carried it to the corner. He then picked up Little Joe by his neck and took him to the food, dropping Little Joe down in front of it. Little Joe stayed there to eat, and after that ate from his own plate. I've often wondered what Henry told him.

ETA: Ooops! I'm going to leave my cat story there, but I don't drink wine, so no.

TPBM will tell us his or her favorite kind/brand of wine.

Justin Syrah. I still have 7 bottles of the 2003.

I prefer reds to whites and this one is a doozy.

TPBM loves armanac.

Armanac yes, but I like spanish brandies better. Fundador or Felipe II - Can't afford Carlos I. Haven't had any in years- stupid Pennsylvania State Liquor stores.

TPBM is a teetotler.

Yes, I am. Not due to any moral imperative but because I simply don't like the taste. Can't abide liver either, unless it is in a pate.

TPBM has some food or drink he/she can't stand the taste of. Of which he/she can't stand the taste (darn dangling participles).

ETA correct spelling

Asparagus. Beer.

TPBM really does like asparagus.

When it's cooked right.

It's past TPBM's bedtime.

Perpetually.

TPBM will kindly not mention pets in his/her response.

Okay, since I am petless right now. Sadly.

The person below me is hungry.

Sure am. Just got up a few minutes ago. I'll be eating a bit of something in about an hour or so.

TPBM never eats breakfast.

Not unless two or six large mugs of tea count.

TPBM is baffled by households with no litter bin in the bathroom.

Okay! I agree 100% Makes no sense.

TPBM was also waiting for one of our more colorful members to answer. (TPAM, SRR)

To answer what?

TPBM finished something today.

Not yet, but I hope to. Need to balance the checkbook when I get home tonight, there are a few other things as well.

TPBM does not consider themselves one of the 'more colorful members' referenced above...

Not in the least, but I think I have an idea who they are.

TPBM has a skeeter problem.

Luckily I live in a part of the country where mosquitoes are not a problem. We get a few if sitting outside of an evening, but not many. Other places, however, are having record breaking mosquitoes, black flies and such this summer.

TPBM has a theory why this year is an all-time record breaking bad year for pesky little biting things in some parts.

ETA for spelling (getting second cup of coffee now)

What parts? Oh! No idea, something to do with global winning, pro'lly.

TPBM gets their hair cut or styled for free.

No. My mother cut all our hair (hairs?) when I was a kid. Now I have a lovely young woman who knows how to cut my hair just as I like it. No mean feat.

The person below me realizes that we are at 400 and will contemplate the name of the next thread.

edited to make more sense I hope

Yup - I cut it myself! Dead easy to do & the few times a year I do go to a hairdresser they have never been able to tell I cut it myself.

Grr -- ghazumped!

Nope, sorry can't think of anything clever

TPBM didn't have to call the police today to have stupid people removed from their work premises.

No I didn't but I think you should become one of the colourful people and tell us that story.

I'm a colourful person but you'd never know it. (High blood pressure)

TPBM wonders why WHL doesn't like pet stories.

I love these pretending-not-to-ask-questions-non-conversations. :)

You are bringing up something at which I can be more cavalier than the Earl of Rochester: I am very libertarian about genres -- and not about much of anything else. I NEVER wonder why anyone doesn't like any genre. Honest!

TPBM likes all fiction genres except "cozy" mysteries.

I do not.

TPBM has a mullet (fish or hair, you pick).

I don't "have" one, but some connection with one, in that the
name of my town of residence Wai'anae, HI literally means
"Mullet Stream".

TPBM's home town has an interesting literal meaning,

Yeah, not so much. Hampton has no interesting anything, but the city I live in now used to be called Snottingham (gross) & is unbelievably well known for a certain man who purportedly stole from the rich & gave to the poor.....

TPBM is contemplating buying an e-reader...

#402 - I am a senior manager in a hotel & we had some "interesting" guests stay with us last night who today refused to check out of the hotel, demanded that we give them a free night's stay & then proceeded to cause an absolute ruckus in the lobby. They called me everything but a white woman! You know, my industry would be so great if we didn't have to deal with idiot guests, lol!

Not me. I want to hold a real book in my hands. Too old fashioned, I suppose, but it works for me!

TPBM is also set in his or her ways.

Read about it here.