You Are Welcome To Join Me
February 14th 2008
Due to future upcoming ”projects”, my blog is permanently moving here.
For all one of you who need to update your blogroll, my apologies for the inconvenience.
Majestic Wingspan
February 11th 2008
I saw this eagle on the way to the wrestling tournament last Friday. It was eating roadkill
in a ditch (not very majestic, I must say). When we turned around to get a photo it flew up
into the tree and waited patiently for us to leave.
Its wingspan had to be at least six feet!
Pop
February 10th 2008
Kevin was wrestling at the Great River Conference on Friday night. It was the
last team tournament of the year and he had already won the first match of
the evening. During the second match, he landed on his shoulder during a fall
and felt a “pop”. He knew immediately that something was not
right, even before the pain registered in his brain.
Despite the pain he continued to wrestle and went on to pin the kid in the
final period.
It was not easy to watch.
Thankfully the trainer was able to evaluate him immediately after the match and
convince him he should forfeit the championship match. A million dollars could not
have swayed him from wrestling that match but he knew his shoulder wouldn’t stand
up to the pressure.
We spent yesterday getting two opinions on the diagnosis:
the dreaded separated shoulder.
There’s nothing we can do but rest it, ice it and hope the ligament heals enough
for him to wrestle at sections two weeks from now. If it were up to me Kevin would
not even attempt to wrestle but there is only one individual tournament standing
between having his year end with an injury or wrestling at State.
Wrestling at state is the kid’s biggest dream!
Please join us in praying that Kevin will be healed enough to pursue his dream.
I’ll keep you updated.
Hot Mike
February 6th 2008
Testing. Testing. 1, 2, 3.
Eeeeeeeeek!
Did you hear that high pitch squeal?
It is the parenting feedback I receive from my omniscient, nineteen year old daughter who still lives at home and feels compelled to share her child-rearing wisdom with me:
“When I have kids, I’m never going to MAKE them attend church.”
“Just let him wear the holey blue jeans. All the kids wear them like that.”
“That’s has a hole in it. You’re letting her wear THAT?”
“What’s the big deal? Why can’t he go to the party?”
Every. Single. Parenting decision I make is met with an equal and completely opposite objection. If it is not a verbal argument, it is the raised-eyebrow-followed-by-a-frown-followed-by-what-seems-to-be-a-sigh-that-starts-with-the-letter-T. In her eyes, I am the Ralph Malph of Motherhood and it is up to her to sway me to the Fonzie side.
On one hand, I am delighted to have raised an opinionated human being who feels free to interject her passionate point of view whenever possible. On the other, shut the hell up.
Parenting is tricky enough without feeling like Al Sharpton is taking up residence in the basement.
Fact: All Viruses Known To Mankind Originate Here
February 5th 2008
It’s true.
We have become the Universe’s petri dish this winter. It’s as if this family has been sealed in a giant zip-lock bag and set to marinade in coughs, colds, flu, sore throats and ebola. Add two daycare kids who come from a large family and we have what I fondly call Persistus.
Persistus \per-SIS-tus\, noun
A traumatic event involving extended illness which is circulated and transmitted in an unyielding fashion to
anyone who merely looks upon those infected or places a foot upon the land of those involved.
When I joined the Procreate Wrecklessly Foundation, no one warned me of the frustrations involved with having illnesses sweep through a large family. Everything is magnified nine-fold to the sixth power. That’s because the males in my home, all six of them, grab their hearts and proclaim “Oh, this is the biggest one I ever had. You hear that Elizabeth? I’m coming to join you honey.” the moment they contract a sniffle. No amount of shame can bring forth the slightest hint of bravado . Their “I could take on a platoon of Navy Seals with one hand behind my back” machismo is no where to be found in the presence of a congested nasal passage. They just surrender to the couch in complete cowardice and pray for Jesus to return quickly…before the Nyquil wears off.
The Persistus began two weeks before Christmas.
It’s now February.
My house feels toxic.
You win, Persistus. I wave my white flag of Kleenex with Lotion as a sign of peace.
Googled
February 4th 2008
It’s always fascinating to see the many ways people have landed on my site from searching google.com. This month has been particularly odd:
2 8.00% bob nathanael
2 8.00% best family wrestling
2 8.00% if a triangle has an area of 16 square inches and a base of 8 inch
2 8.00% heelprints
1 4.00% heelprintsinthesand.com
1 4.00% apologize how can i make it better
1 4.00% sand develops under my tongue
1 4.00% mr yello
1 4.00% cap’n crunch for breading
1 4.00% sexy reading material
1 4.00% u tube wheels on the bus
1 4.00% airhoses girls photoes
1 4.00% peoples favorite things to do in the winter statistics
1 4.00% ters family
1 4.00% piedmont portobello
1 4.00% your zipper is down pictures
1 4.00% my pastor is sexy
1 4.00% remember when your mother told you never to take candy from a stranger
1 4.00% aveda sinus cleaning minneapolis mn
1 4.00% wheat store carries dynamite glue for wall paper
1 4.00% teen mothers holding babies.jpg
Sand develops under my tongue?? Mother of Pearl! I’ve never heard of such a thing. It takes true grit to search out answers on this one.
Airhoses girls photoes?? Is that x-rated pneumography? You’ll find none of that stuff here, Mister.
Wheat store carries dynamite glue for wallpaper?? They must be looking for Malto-Seal.
Anyway, I’m just thankful my site is back up and running. My server experienced a hardware failure, whatever that means, and it took almost 72 hours to be repaired. My apologies to the dude searching for photoes.
Because My Living Room Has Shrunk A Quarter Inch
January 23rd 2008
Believe it or not, I do have an explanation of why I change my blog’s appearance so often. It seems I have this thing where I easily become annoyed with the color on the walls in my home.
Whereas one week Hawthorne Yellow is my absolute FAVORITE color, the next it feels like I’m living in a tub of “I Cant Believe It’s Not Butter”. I’ve done many different painting techniques on my walls: sponge painting, feather painting, stenciling, faux marbling, antiquing… you name it, I’ve done it. At least three times. All in an attempt to soothe the inflammation in my color-sensitive mind.
I feel it’s a good time to mention that I am not someone who spends a lot of money on clothing, shoes, make-up, jewelry, etc. I tolerate old shoes quite well and I hardly notice that I’m wearing the same winter wardrobe I have had since before anyone knew who Brittney Spears was.
There’s alot that doesn’t bother me. Being banned from the paint section of Home Depot, does.
I realized that I have a paint compulsion when my friend, Stacy, visited a few years back and said “My God, woman! It looks like a clown vomited on your walls.” And she was right. My living room appeared to be suffering from one massive, three-day-old bruise.
So I mustered up some self control and painted the living room a very neutral eggshell color.
Three years ago.
It’s driving me absolutely bonkers but I’ve been forbidden to repaint by the man who actually measured the rainbowed layers bubbling beneath the surface of nuthouse white and discovered that I have managed to shrink our square footage by 1/4 inch. Therefore, I have no choice but to rearrange my blog just to take the edge off.
A quarter inch is nothing compared to the great vastness of the world wide web. My clown’s gotta vomit somewhere.
Bloggers Have Rights
January 20th 2008
A recent event in my community has led to some negative media coverage involving our school district.
One twin cities news station stumbled upon a website that I own and maintain for one of our sports teams and, without my permission, used my images in their news story. I was completely shocked as I watched their story unfold on television and saw how they used my photos without so much as a “May we?”. The last thing I wanted was for my community to believe that I had anything to do with the coverage, as if I contacted the station and provided them with information.
I called the news station and was redirected a half dozen times until I was speaking with the executive producer of the newsroom. This woman said “Anything you put on the web is public domain and we can use it however we want.” I argued that this was a privately owned domain and that the images were my intellectual property. I used the word “stolen” and “copyrighted”.
She agreed to remove a photo from their website but made no promises about the video feed and future broadcasts. She encouraged me to leave a voicemail for the vice-president of the station, which I did.
This morning I watched their coverage of the news story and there again were my images. I rechecked their website and discovered that they had put my photo back onto their site.
I called again after doing some research on Internet and copyright laws. This time the woman was not so friendly to me.
“How exactly have you copyrighted this material?” she asked.
“First of all, anything I write, any photographs I take belong to me. The copyright is automatically implied. I went a step further and posted that it is copyrighted by law. This isn’t ‘MySpace’ or ‘Facebook’. This is a domain I own with images I own. I suggest you read the legal disclaimer provided by Creative Commons. In the mean time, I will be delivering a Cease and Desist letter to your station first thing in the morning!”
She got really huffy with me and said “I’m going to contact our station’s attorney and get back to you!”
Meanwhile, I could tell by my stat counter that there was alot of activity on this site from a few different ISP addresses. They were definitely debating the legalities of their actions. A half hour later I received the call:
“We have decided to honor your request and remove the photos.”
“From your website?”
“Yes.”
“From your broadcasts?”
“Yes.”
“From any future broadcasts or stories?”
“Yes.”
“Perfect.”
Bloggers have rights.
Just because we put thoughts and images out their for the world to see doesn’t mean that we give up ownership in doing so. I highly recommend that every blogger reading this takes some steps to protect the content of your site. Here are a few links to get you started:
What To Do If Someone Steals Your Work
Never in a million years did I think I would have to deal with this. I’m hoping you never have to
but it doesn’t hurt to be prepared.
Oh. And I’ll never watch KSTP news again. Shame on them.
Superstarrrrr
January 16th 2008
Recording Elly, even with a poor quality video cam, and putting it on YouTube is like handing me the keys to a Godiva store and saying “Have at it. Don’t stop til you get enough.”
It’s her dream come true, only because she’s too young to audition for American Idol.
And not once did any of her brothers interrupt her.
BREAKING NEWS
January 15th 2008
Dooce wears the man clogs.
Read about it here.
What’s next? Rosie O’Donnell announces that she’s actually a heterosexual and pro-war?
Dear Hollywood Writers,
January 15th 2008
This is getting old now. Whatever you are holding out for or wanting is simply not as important as my viewing pleasure so I am asking you nicely to get back to work. Unless, of course, you are being forced to work under inhumane working conditions like drinking water from the community fountain instead of a $5 bottle. In which case, I understand.
But you need to understand something, too: I NEED The Office to come back. I am suffering from an extreme deficiency in Vitamin Schrute and it ain't pretty. I have been forced into writing my own imaginary episodes where Dwight sells the beet farm in order to enroll full time in Ninja school, Pam shifts into a bipolar episode and holds Angela hostage in the janitor's closet until she forgives Dwight for killing Sprinkles and Michael files workman's comp for permanent injury to his fingertips due to all the papercuts he's received.
STOP LEAVING ME TO MY OWN IMAGINATIONS!
What did I ever do to you except tune in faithfully on Thursday nights at 8 PM Central time? Did I not go to NBC's website and order "Support the Rabid" bracelets and t-shirts? I did my part to support each one of you and what do I get in return?
Reruns.
And dumb ass shows like "1 vs 100" which contain no references to throwing stars OR inappropriate jokes in the workplace.
It's time to put your ugly selfishness aside and resume making me laugh with lines like this:
Michael: Do I need to be liked? Absolutely not. I like to be liked. I enjoy being liked. I have to be liked. But it's not like a compulsive need to be liked. Like my need to be praised.
Kevin Finally Get’s It!
January 13th 2008
“Dad, I want to go ice fishing with Tyler.”
“That’s fine but where are you going to get the money to buy minnows?”
“Man, I really need to get a job. I’m tired of living birthday to birthday!”
She’s Baaaaack!
January 11th 2008
For those of you who do not know, my nine year old daughter is the author of a blog called “Ask Miss Elly”. She offers unusually wise advice for someone who still cannot reach the glasses on the shelf of our kitchen cupboard without jumping on the counter first.
For those of you who do know her…she’s as happy as a jackass eating thistles to have her very. own. website. And she misses Bill the most because he actually sent her $5 to answer a question correctly.
I invite you to visit Ask Miss Elly and if you’re in a really generous mood…ask her a question. She will undoubtedly have a hilarious answer.
In the Lap of Luxury
January 8th 2008
Imagine being too small to take part in one of doghood’s greatest pleasures: drinking from a toilet.
Thankfully we were able to provide an alternative for Mr. Bingley. Now if only we could find a miniature fire hydrant…
Family Wrestling Mat-ters
January 6th 2008
Saturday we spent the entire day at a wrestling tournament for Kevin. By entire day I mean from the hours of “Are we there yet?” to “If I have to watch one more match, my eyeballs are going to implode”. It was a long day of plugging quarters into our children so that they could buy over-priced concession stand food and give us a momentary break from the “I’m bored” routine.
And yet, this is what loving families do for each other.
So next time I’m standing in line at the DMV, renewing my driver’s license, you can bet Kevin will be there cheering me on as my picture is taken. After my next pap smear, Kevin will be waiting outside the exam room with an ice cold Gatorade. He can pat my back and say “Good job, Mom! I’m proud of you!”
Okay. Maybe that’s a little extreme. Right now I can barely get him to acknowledge me as I hand him a stack of freshly laundered clothes. Truly the best case scenario I can imagine after investing so much time and energy on a child is that he will do the same for his own one day.
Anyway, Kevin took third place and I thought I’d share one of his pins captured on video by Elly Joy, his nine year old sister. (She insisted I mention her name so as not to infringe on her copyrights.)
Kevin is wearing the blue and yellow.
Campaign Shmampaign
January 4th 2008
I must have been a bad girl this year because Santa brought me a nasty virus for Christmas. It was one of those coughing, aching, stuffy head, fever gotta rest type of illnesses and I’m just now, ten days later, feeling back to my old self again.
Thanks for nothing, Airborne.
Anyway, as I was lying in bed in a hallucinatory, fever-induced state, I started thinking about the presidential campaign. Maybe it was Fox News playing in the background or maybe I’m a hyper-brilliant girl whose genius only surfaces with a climbing body core temperature, but I came up with an idea I just have to share.
I can’t speak for you but I for one am tired of hearing political rhetoric from all the candidates. They all promise to cut taxes, give birth to an entirely new health care system and restore the stability to the social security system. Promises, promises. All of the candidates seem so rehearsed and prepared, primped and packaged into something deemed acceptable by Gallop polls published in USA Today. It’s like The Stepford Candidates and it freaks me out. Instead campaign finance reform, why not just reform campaigns period?
Here’s my simple but genius idea- anyone seeking the office of President of the United States has to submit themselves to a battery of Reality television shows. The overall winner gets the job.
For instance, don’t you want to know if Clinton and Romney are Smarter Than a Fifth Grader? Foreign policy experience seems irrelevant if you can’t even point out Tanzania on a map. I want the candidates to answer a 4th grade math question like- If a triangle has an area of 16 square inches and a base of 8 inches, how long is its height? If you get that wrong, how do we trust you to balance the national budget?
They say that leadership qualities are the most important thing to look for in a candidate. How about we match them up in pairs and send them on The Amazing Race? If Hilary stumbles and sprains her ankle while trying to catch a taxi cab in Istanbul, would Edwards help her along or call her a wussy girl and accuse her of faking? Would Hilary run a fair race or would she sabotage others along the way? That’s the kind of information I’m looking for before making my decision.
Another popular question: Does a candidate have the courage it takes to defend and protect our country in an ever-increasing hostile world? Put Huckabee and Thompson on Fear Factor and lets find out. Enough already with the well polished political ads, I want to see if they have the stomach to wear the eel helmet without crying out to their mommas. What a great way to determine if someone really wants the job.
You really want to get to know who you’re voting in to be president of our country? Put the entire bunch in to the Big Brother house and let’s watch them. No more speeches and debates. Let’s lock them in to a well monitored living environment and see who is the peacemaker, troublemaker, conformist, isolationist, etc… Let’s listen in to their conversations and analyze their body language while lounging at the pool’s edge. People can put on an act for only so long before their true colors appear.
Am I onto something here or did the quart of Nyquil I consumed during my illness fry a few important brain cells? Before you answer… picture Sean Hannity doing the tango with Hilary Clinton on “Dancing with the Presidential Candidates” and tell me you wouldn’t tune in to watch.
Merry Christmas
December 24th 2007
Jeff and Charli, Bill and Lois, Deborah, Rick, Shellie… I hope you all have a beautiful Christmas this year.
Thank you for being a part of my life- for the smiles and laughter you have given me. You’re all just precious!
God bless you!
Love,
Jennine
He Threw A DISC Out
December 23rd 2007
We recently purchased a very inexpensive digital camcorder to record the boy’s wrestling matches. It worked great on Thursday! Kevin would finally be able to watch himself wrestle once we uploaded it to our PC. The only problem was that the removable memory card from the camcorder wasn’t being detected by our computer.
Darren spent a good amount of time troubleshooting before he decided to get live support from the manufacturer. In his nervous state of not only having to ask someone for help, but also having to type on a keyboard in the process, this is how the conversation unfolded:
Stephen N: Welcome to HP Total Care for Desktops. My
name is Stephen. How may I assist you today?darren: how do i access the sd/mmc slot on my
pc after i plug my dick into it?darren: dick…sorry
darren: d i s c
Stephen N: What is the Model Number of the PC?
darren : tj5113mw
Stephen N: Okay.
Stephen N: I will check the specifications
Stephen N: I will be back in 3 minutes.
darren: ok
It was at this point that Darren found me and said “Can you come here for a minute? I’m so embarrassed. Look at what I just accidently typed to the support guy!”
I don’t know what response he was hoping I’d have but I immediately burst into a hysterical laughing fit.
“Oh Darren. Don’t worry. That kind of thing happens to the breast of us. I mean BREAST of us. UGH!! B E S T of us!”
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