BJ is out with da boys tonight, so I decided to figure out how to really PLAY with this WordPress template. Be warned, now that I have the hang of it you could see many facelifts. Of course, that's AFTER I figure it out. Grrrrr.

I might have to work on designing a Thanksgiving theme. Hmmmmm......I wonder what hubby would look like with a big turkey gobbler thingee (who knows what they're called, and frankly I'm done with researching things tonight) on his neck....

My commute to work is a long one. If I drive, it's well over two hours each way. If I take the train, it's only about an hour and a half. Taking the train is the way to go because I can read, play games on my PDA , do some work, or even sleep. And of course, there's the benefit of not having road rage to and from work. Always a plus for everyone concerned.

The train is set up so that there are sets of four seats facing each other. Some have small tables in the middle so you can do paperwork and things. Not much in the way of leg room, but then again, I'm only 5'3" (on a tall hair day) so I don't require much.

Normally, I'm in a good mood when I get home after riding the train. I have time to decompress, and relax. That wasn't the case yesterday.

The train was crowded, but I found a spot with a table (generally not my seat of choice, in case you're wondering). I sat on the opposite corner from a guy seated next to the window. The train started filling up, so I scooted over to the window seat so now both seats toward the aisle were empty. In hindsight, I should have taken off my coat before doing this because once you're wedged in there, it's impossible to move much.

Two ladies sat down at the table. I'm guessing that they're in their early 50's and they worked together. The lady sitting diagonally had really thick black eyeliner on and it was all smeared. She also drew outside of the lines with her orange lipstick, and wore lots of really gaudy gold jewelry. I averted my eyes the best that I could.

Immediately, the painted lady started yacking. She started talking about things clear back to her high school days, still pissy about a grade that Mr. so and so gave her in her biology class 30 freaking years ago. She talked all sing-songy, drawing out and caressing her syllables in a way that drove me nearly insane. The other lady would try to say something when the painted lady went to take a breath, but then the painted lady would continue yapping right over the top of her. She'd even made a weird sound while breathing in, like she was saying "ummmmm" (I'm guessing so she makes a continual noise so her co-worker wouldn't interrupt.)

Then the guy across from me decides to lay back a bit and stretch out. His legs ended up over on my side. So now I had to bunch my legs over as close as I could to the wall and he was STILL touching me. I also started getting very hot because I didn't take off my coat.

Wouldn't you know it since it was the commute from hell, the train had to make a lot of stops for some reason (it ended up running about 45 minutes longer than usual). The whole time the painted lady is yacking, my space is being invaded, and I'm sweating like a pig.

Yacking, yacking yacking.

"... annnnnnnnnnnnndddddddddddddd, I think I'll put on red nailpolish tonight. Or, ummm, I dunno, maybe a frosted pink." "I need to go to the store and pick up some milk and butter, annnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnd.... maybe I'll pick up some bandaids, you never know when you'll need them." "Did I ever tell you about the time that I used a bandaid?".....

Her yacking kept going on and on, all sing songy and stupid-like. I'm surprised my ears weren't bleeding by the end of the commute.

It was hell.

When my husband and I first started dating, I liked his cologne. Then he changed to something different. I didn't like that one so much so found a nice way to tell him. I said something like, 'Hey, I really like that cologne you wore when I first met you. What was that?'

He got a sheepish look on his face and told me that he was very embarrassed to admit it, but it was Old Spice. Ok, so he was embarrassed to admit it, but I was even more embarrassed that the cologne that turned my crank was also the cologne that my GRANDFATHER USED TO WEAR.

We both got over our embarrassment and he resumed wearing Old Spice.

One day, still early in the dating process, I was at the mall. I smelled that familiar smell and got all dreamy-like. I turned around to see where this scent was emanating from. I almost fell on the floor laughing, because it was a little old man, all hunched over and hobbling along with a cane. True story, I swear.

Yep, apparently I like 'old man' smell.

My sis and I got together on Saturday for food, general teasing of son number 2 (Casey), manicures and shopping. The food was great, teasing Casey was fun. The manicures? Well, that was a bit scary. My manicurist (is that what they're called?) had warts on her hands and she left me with a few open cuticles so now I'm on wart watch. I've never had one, and don't plan to start now...

Casey gave us an update on the saga, with more details than Mommy wanted to know. You'll be happy to learn that I was right on how Cameron would take the whole thing. It was his get out of jail free card and Casey got out of the whole thing unscathed.

Last, we went to the mall. We'd just left Victoria's Secret and heard a payphone ringing. I dared my sis to answer it and say (in a strange voice), "Whattup Bitch?"



That must have stunned the person on the other end into silence.

Then another phone in that kiosk started ringing. So again, my sis answered it the same way.

Eventually, it went all the way around the kiosk, and all phones were answered properly.



Sometimes my sis would ad lib, but mainly kept to the script that was provided to her.

It occured to me that if we didn't have some place to go, and our feet weren't hurting, we could have been kept busy for hours.

.....because we're like that you know.

Admittedly I have a lot of obsessions, and one of the top contenders is my skin. When I was in high school, I treated my skin with very little regard. I rarely washed my makeup off before going to bed, yet I had perfect skin. I don't remember ever even getting a zit.

Once I hit my 20's I became fanatical about washing my makeup off before going to bed. I haven't gone ONE night in at least 15 years without washing my face before bed, yet now I get zits. What is that about? I currently have one that's been there about a month. I decided to be "good" with this one and not mess with it. What did I get for my good behavior? It stayed there for three weeks. A bump on my face for three weeks. So, one night I just went to war on the damned thing. It's now healing up nicely, TYVM.


Anyway, on to purpose of this post. I had a nightmare last night that I was going to the doctor about something or other. While there, I decided to ask her about the previously mentioned zit.

...as an aside, the person playing the part of the doctor was the real life gal who gave me a manicure yesterday....

So the doctor looked at this zit, commented on how huge it was and said she wanted to ask me some questions. After running some tests she told me that she had an experimental cure and I'd never get a zit again.

She takes me to an auditorium and it was full of doctors. There was a metal table up on the stage and she asked me to get on this table face down. Then she pulled out this HUGE needle and said she had to shoot some sort of solution into my spinal column via my neck, but I'd have to do it without any sort of numbing medicine.

Believe it or not, I was perfectly willing to do this to have perfect skin. My concern? I didn't want all of the doctors in the room to see that I felt any pain. I wanted to look brave.

Then I woke up and I pondered that for a bit. What WOULD I do to ensure that I had perfect skin?