i *heart* photo software

i do, i do, i do, i do.

really, really, really.

i can modify the colors and turn a crappy photo with too much light in to a fairly well developed photo.

or, put a hue filter on it (like the bottom photo) & viola! it looks like a float in the Main Street Electrical Parade.

it's Microsoft Digital Suite, iffn' you're interested. Does a lot of the things Photoshop does, but obviously at much less the price.

for instance...

i have a photo i took in Philadelphia, of a field in the back of my hotel. Only problem, it had a drainage ditch & phone wires in it. But all i had to do is go into the program, and circle the parts i didn't like..and like magic, they're gone. Leaving only the sweet meadow surround it, by copying parts of the field around it.

i love stuff that makes me look smarter & more talented than i really am.

now if only i can find some software that makes me about 30lbs thinner, so i wouldn't have to rejoin WW.

hell. i'd pay full retail for that.

finally Friday -

and although this happened yesterday, i feel it merits mention.

Worked a 1/2 day yesterday to meet up with our friends at Disneyland - the Crowdest Place on Earth. Actually, it wasn't too bad yesterday and my crowning achievement was that on Buzz Lightyear's Astro Blasters, i beat both crack shot boys..by a large margin. (the ride is best described as riding through a shooting gallery, shooting laser guns at targets throughout the ride, while you destroy Emperor Zurg's power) Don't think i wasn't proud!

So - i told you that story to tell you this story.

Before i left work, i went in to the office where we store our work..did some filing, some sorting, and i'll now stop boring you with those details. Came back to my desk and noticed something weird sounding, coming out of my radio.

It was Prince "i would die 4 U". On the country music station i usually listen to.

What th'...?

So at first, i thought the station tuning moved. Nope, it's the correct setting. Well, it can't be April Fools...what th'?

So later on, i find out that at 10a.m. yesterday, the only country music station in the Southern California area, switched from country to "movin'" music. And later on, Rick Dees will be hosting the morning show on "The New Movin' 93.9"

What th'.....?!

So the only other station i know of is out in San Bernardino..i can get it on my radio, but i'm bugged already. See, their mascot is a frog, so there's a lot of ribbiting and "have a froggy morning!" crap going on.

Just play my damn Keith Urban, and leave the frog behind.

i just don't get it. The station's website says that soon the station will be streaming on the internet and playing country. So, it'll be dance music on the radio, but country on the internet? The station claims to be "America's Most Listened to Country Station."

Maybe it's not the most profitable one.

yarrrrr!

yo-ho, yo-ho & prepare to be boarded.

You are a Pirate Second Class

Do you remember the last time you took a chance? I do. It was when you decided to leave the security of your mother's womb and headed for the bright light. It's time to head for the next bright light, my friend. Creativity is not your strong suit. You are good at doing what you are told to do and that, in itself, is a gift. It's not a gift to you, mind you, but rather a gift to those who will be there to tell you what to do. You like long walks on the beach and cuddling, but would never admit that to your Guy friends who think you are okay but can't always remember your name. Tapioca pudding seems a bit extreme for a fellow such as yerself, what with all the bumps and stuff. It's a good thing ye be on a pirate ship, otherwise, ye'd would be walkin' because ye be positively pedestrian. Have a nice day.

What's Yer Inner Pirate?
brought to you by The Official Talk Like A Pirate Web Site. Arrrrr!

what's the world coming to?

Is the End near?

Have gas prices dropped to dizzying lows?

Am i suddenly blond & skinny?

Because i came home yesterday to find my DH watching Lifetime - Television for Women.

That is not a typo.

My darling husband...who refuses to wear pastel shirts...who eschews the local Love Song radio station...is watching some gawd-awful show on Lifetime.

What the Sam Hill.

I had to leave the room. Not only to stop my laughing, but because my teeth were hurting, it was so sweet.

Come on. i KNOW i still have Dog on the DVR. Anything would be better.

But Lifetime? Have mercy.

Next thing you know he'll call our satellite provider to get the Soap Opera channel put on our package.

I'm off to bed.

customer service and me...

or how i learned to stop caring.

Well, not me.

Yesterday, i drove the Blue Bomber out to the local mall. Needed to make a stop at Sephora (a wonderful candy store chock full of makeup, perfume, and all the things that we chickas love.) for some necessities: mascara. Eye liner. New Perfume.

You know, all the stuff that the men we love say we don't need. But skip one day without it and it's, "bloody hell - you're not going out looking like THAT are you?"

Anywho....whilst i was stumbling around, looking for an eyeshadow that i didn't need (just like i don't need new 12x12 paper, or embellishments, but that's another post), i counted eight employees in the store.

One was working the register. One was applying makeup to another customer. The other six were yakking about.

There were maybe around four of us customers in the store. And i watched with amazement & amusement as the employees would ask the other customers how they were doing, do they need any help, blah, blah, blah.

Was i offended? Perhaps. But i realized that all the customers they were talking to were about their age.

Hey. i'm no fool. i wouldn't want to waste my time with an old broad like me, either (even if i do think i'm cool & fun, and well, you get the idea.) But then i realized something that made me laugh. Hard.

I have WAY more disposable income. i can spend, spend, spend. And unless these hottie-totties have Daddy's inheritance or a platinum card, they've got a budget. Me - i do as i please.

Muh-hahahahahahaha.

It may be a "young persons" world, but there's more of us than there are of them. People my age are the new majority. We're freaking taking over!

And the revolution will be televised. Coming to you live from Sephora.

check this out

www.payattention.org

woooooooooo, Mexico...

i haven't really been, so i don't really know. wo-wo-wooooooo, Mexico. Guess i'll have to go now.

Lyrics courtesy of Sweet Baby James Taylor.

Why am i up so bloody early on a Saturday when i don't have to go to work?! Well, it's like this. i have been ejected from my own bed by my own family.

Do i snore? Youbetcha. But so does my husband. No, Gentle Reader, i have been evicted because Brendan & my furbaby are BEDHOGS.

It's not the first time this has happened. The husband in the middle of the bed. The cat stretched out between us. Me on my side with about 12 inches of bedspace for my 24 inch wide arse.

You get the picture.

And eventually sleeping in the same position on the same side where arthritis is developing..well..to hell with it. So, i'm up. Reading blogs.

Here's where this complaint about my arthritic arse becomes connected to James Taylor's song about Mexico.

Tara & her family went to Mexico recently and this a.m. posted pictures. It reminded me of the time years ago when B & i went down there to Rosarito Beach for a long weekend.

Yum.

We went with no agenda except to drink beer, eat lobster & carne asada & freshly made tortillas.
We succeeded on all counts.

We stayed where a girlfriend of mine always goes, and because we went off season, got an ocean-front room for way cheap. Took a drive down the coast (where we passed a Mexican soldier who was all of 17, carrying an AK-47) to a fishing village where we had a three pound lobster tail with GOOD rice & beans & again, home made tortillas for about $10. We were glad to pay it & they were glad to take it.

Yum. Yum. Yum.

Made me wish again that B worked a standard Monday-Friday shift/job, so we would have the entire weekend together, instead of just Sunday.

Made me wish i had taken off Monday.

Made me hungry. Made me wish for a vacation i can take where i don't have to dump my eyedrops before i get on the plane.

Way down here you need a reason to move
Feel a fool running your stateside games
Lose your load, leave your mind behind, baby james
Oh, mexico
It sounds so simple i just got to go
The sun's so hot i forgot to go home
Guess i'll have to go now

here's the happier post i promised...

it may just be me, but did you ever notice that in "Austin Powers in Goldmember," that Scott Evil (Seth Green) looks like Ron Howard's illegitimate son?

or is it just me?

so what can i say...

last night, i had a bit of a mini meltdown.

i'm still not sure what brought it on, but there it was. and there i was, sobbing like a fiend.

PMS? naaah.

it was the sudden onset of sadness because we have no babies.

it's been a long road to get here. not as long as others, and certainly not what others have gone through, but enough for me.

first came the tests. then the procedures. take your temperature. log everything. chart your periods & how long they last. face the new moon at 11:50 at night, stand naked & make sure your bum faces north by northwest.

ok, so i made the last one up. sure felt like it at times.

then comes the advice. check your cervical fluids (sorry all you guys that read). have sex this many times in this order on the day when your temperature reaches this spike. stick a pillow under your bum. lie still. don't get up.

hell, i seriously considered putting a trapize in our bedroom, but not for what you were thinking.

did i mention the drugs? clomid...i believe it's Latin for ugggh. i don't understand how a drug that is to stimulate egg manufacturing can make you feel like you're going through menopause. my nightmare was that i would turn on the news to this:

"good evening. today's top story: a local Buena Park woman is pregnant with sextuplet. her husband has left the country."

well, ya gotta laugh, right?

i don't understand. i don't understand how God can give me such a desire for children, and yet deny them to me. how He can allow teenagers (and others) to get pregnant, especially when He knows that this baby will end up in a trash bin someplace.

i don't freaking get it.

it hurts so bad sometimes that i can hardly breathe. it makes me rail against God. not my faith, but i just don't get it.

i'm angry. i'm hurting. i'm frustrated.

i'm infertile.

if you're a regular reader of this missive, then you know that adoption just isn't an option here, for reasons i don't want to revisit again.

i understand i'm not the only one facing this crap. i know i'm not the only one who cries and rages and screams because of the bullshot of this situation. i'm not the only one who cannot understand why the desire to be a mommy is there, but the gift is denied.

there's no answers. there's nothing anyone can say or do to ease this feeling. i am grateful to God that it doesn't hurt like this every day.

but every day, something somewhere reminds me that we don't have kids. that i can't give my husband children.

it's not right. it isn't fair. and i know life isn't fair. but i'm tired of feeling this pain.

i gotta laugh. because i'm tired of crying.

tomorrow will be a happier post. i promise.

changing how you talk to me.

not that you care. and based on how many of you comment (hi Linda! hi Becky! hi Doug!), you probably don't.

but i've changed my comment moderations so you can comment, even if you're not a registered user of Blogger.

let the insanity begin.