(in my best Scarlett O'Hara voice) ....As God is my witness, I shall never get lost again.....

Anyone who has had the opportunity to drive around with me knows that I claim the award for having the worst sense of direction on the planet. Seriously. Argue all you want, I'll win.

I was first made aware of my disability when I was in driver's education in high school. My driver's ed teacher used to get a kick out of having me drive a few blocks, make a couple of turns then tell me to find my way back to the school. Yeah, he was fun like that. Nine out of ten times, I couldn't find my way back.

All of my family and friends know better than to ask me if they should go "right or left" when they're unsure of where they're at. Sometimes they forget, and after asking me they chuckle and say, "oh yeah- I forgot who I'm asking". Nice.

People have given me compasses for gifts. I have a compass in my car, but it does me no good. N-S-E-W is meaningless to me.

A couple of months ago, hubby and I were at a party at a house located about 15 minutes from our house. I wasn't feeling well, so I left early and told hubby to call me when he was ready to come home. BJ knows how I am, so gave me what he thought were very good directions on how to get home. I got lost immediately. I am NOT lying when I tell you that it took me 2.5 hours to find my way home. I was seriously driving among farms and farm animals and finally figured out that if I followed a volcanic evacuation route sign, surely that would get me to a main road. Eventually it did. Eventually.

Well, I might as well go on with my sad story since I've sucked you in this far... It was also raining hard that night. When I finally got to the house 2.5 hours later, I discovered that I didn't have any house keys. So, there I was not feeling well, in the dark, in the rain, and crying because I couldn't get in the house. The windows are up really high, so I had to get a ladder from the garage and climb up about 5 feet to check all the windows to find one that wasn't locked. Thankfully, there was an unlocked window and I was able to climb in it.

Yeah, that night really sucked.

Really, I'm an intelligent person. The part of my brain that recognizes directions just doesn't fire on all cylinders for some reason. BJ is quite used to hearing these words, "honey, I'm lost".

So, today hubby got me this.

I guess this means that he's not planning on getting rid of me any time soon, because now I'll always be able to find my way home.

First of all, someone either give me one of these or 10,000 of these . Thank you.

Last night hubby and I went to a New Years Eve party with his friends. His friends are single guys, mostly in their early 30's. Let's just say, RisibleGirl does NOT fit in with this crowd. Don't get me wrong, I really like his friends but they have different life experiences and they're well, young guys. It's hard to find topics of conversation that we can all relate to. Or so I thought...

Somehow we got on the topic of cleaning habits. BJ commented on how he hasn't washed maybe 10 dishes since we got married. He says that I never give him a chance. Then one of his friends chimed in with the fact that I swoop in and pick up the dishes after everyone finishes eating and immediately start in on cleaning the kitchen. He poked fun at me about not being able to relax unless the kitchen is clean.

Well, yeah. And this is a bad thing?

So, then it became a game of bragging rights. Everyone started piping on on the neurotic cleanliness habits of the women in their lives. By the way, none of these women were there to defend themselves except me. One of the guys said that the first night his girlfriend stayed over, he caught her cleaning the toothpaste that was gunked up around the toothpaste lid. They all laughed and added more stories of their own.

It was kind of funny to sit back and listen to how these guys feel about the neatniks in their lives. Although they were all making fun, it was obvious that they were stepping all over themselves to get a chance to brag.

Apparently I crossed some weird line when I mentioned how I've been accused in the past of ironing my bath towels because they're always so straight and neat. That seemed to stop the room cold. You could almost hear the crickets chirping in the background. Then one of the guys said, "That's just sick".

Huh? Whaaaaat? Wait a minute, I thought we were all bonding. Thankfully BJ came to my rescue and said, "She said ACCUSED. She doesn't really iron the towels." Everyone seemed to relax after that.

Thanks, BJ, for saving my reputation.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get my toothbrush and scrub some grout.

Yeah, I know, I claim to be Risible Girl yet I act more like mushy-reflection girl. That's why this blog is called MOSTLY risible. While on the 'risible' topic, does everyone here know what risible means? There. Now you do.

It's that time of year, the time where people typically look back on their lives and reflect. Some make resolutions (yeah, we'll get to that maybe tomorrow), some don't. I wasn't going to write one of those reflective New Years Eve posts, but something hit me today like a ton of bricks.

I don't often buy People magazine, but I was at the store today shopping for the grazing festival that was to take place at our pad. It included boys, video games and football. Since my laptop has a fried motherboard, I despise football, and I don't like video golf, I thought I'd better find some sort of mind numbing activity to occupy my time. There it was. People, the best and worst of 2004. Perfect!

It was all fun and games until I got to the article, "Honoring the Fallen". It started, "Since the war in Iraq began, 1,293 U.S. soldiers have given their lives. Here, in the order of their passing, are the names of 832 brave men and women who died in the line of duty in the past year." And so went the list. The name and age of all of the fallen soldiers this year. Most of them just babies. Babies younger than my two sons.

Seeing that list sucked the breath right out of me. I turned the page. Two more pages full of names in tiny little letters. It was all so, so stark. I'm not sure if that is the proper word, but it was like a slap in the face. It brought me to tears to think about these boys, these babies; and to think about their families. Families who were spending the holidays without them.

I thought about my oldest son and his friends. They were all very angry after 9/11. Some were talking about joining the army. I have to be honest, that very idea scared the hell out of me. I am so thankful for the brave men and women who have served our country, and I am very proud to say that my brother is included in that honorable group. However, it devastated me to think of my son joining those ranks. My son didn't join. But some of his friends did. They went in knowing what they were up against. Those are very brave young men.

Then there were the boys who joined the reserves prior to 9/11. They joined so they could make a little extra money, or get help with college tuition, not even knowing what they were getting themselves in to. They were called to duty, and it scared them. It scared me. I can't imagine how it worried their families. I have to wonder how many of those boys on that long list of names fell into this category. It just makes me so, so very sad.

It all brings everything into perspective. I don't think that I'm necessarily someone that needs perspective, because I'm one of those polly-anna type of people who look around and count all of my blessings on nearly a daily basis. It hasn't always been like this, meaning there was a time that I didn't feel so lucky. I really wasn't very lucky and this enables me to look back over my life, how it was, and compare it to how life is now. It is very easy for me to see how blessed I am.

My boys are happy, healthy..... and alive. I am married to a wonderful man who is a partner in every way. I enjoy my job tremendously, and we both make enough money that we are never in need. I have wonderful friends and truly wonderful family; old and new.

This year I finally got a diagnosis for the liver problems that have been plaguing me since 1986. Believe it or not, I consider that a blessing as well. Because now I'm being monitored a lot closer, which means that I am more likely to receive a liver transplant in time. The whole thing is much less scary to me now.

So, even though it wasn't my plan to leave this year on a reflective note, I did.

While reflecting, I'm so happy for the new friends I've made through my new hobby; my blog. I've been enriched reading about your lives and thoughts. Oftentimes very thought provoking. Thank you for sharing yourselves with me.

I wish everyone a safe and healthy 2005, and for me, I am looking forward to getting my little buddy back. (that's my laptop... whimper...)

I'm on hold with the Dell folks hoping that there's an easy solution for my plight. It appears that my laptop has died. It won't turn on and it doesn't look as if it's getting any power when the ac adaptor is in. Normally there's a little light on my laptop that shows there is power, even if I have my laptop turned off.

I'm seriously upset. Interestingly, I was watching a rerun of Sex In The City last night; the episode where Carrie loses everything in her laptop and she's scolded by many that she didn't back up. I thought to myself, hmmmm... self, you know it has been a while since you've backed up your laptop. Then I heard, tra-la-la....

I have the day off today, so was looking forward to reading all of my favorite blogs with my feet up on the table and my laptop, well, in my lap.

Now I'm forced to use hubby's desktop. Sitting at a desk... not my style.

So, if you'll all hold your breath and hope that it's something dumb that can be fixed TODAY, I'd very much appreciate it.

.....wimper...

Update: Dell's customer service is FANTASTIC. Sounds like it's the motherboard (figures... it's the *mother* part that always gives me problems.) They're sending me a new one AND a new processor just in case. And coming to my house to do the whole thing Monday afternoon!

I'll not be as active in posting or commenting on my regular boards. Hmmmm, maybe I'll actually go see what the outside world is like.

I was over visiting The Sneeze last night and read his latest entry. It was about kissing.

I knew I'd have to blog about it because I found myself all mushy-like and getting dizzy and stuff. You see, I'm the lucky person who married the best kisser on this earth. If there are kissers on other planets, I'll bet he'd win the title there too. Really, I know what I'm talking about here folks. I've been a kissing afficionado all of my life. Ok, well, since third grade anyway. That's when I got my first kiss from a boy.

His name was Reuben. I really don't remember much about him except that he was my third grade boyfriend, we held hands and walked around the track at recess. Oh, and kissed. Nothing too extreme (that's for any pervs out there thinking otherwise). I was in third grade, for Pete's sake.

Fast forward to high school. That's when I really got to try out lots of kissing techniques. I feel kind of bad for the boys that I practiced on because I was very much a goody-two-shoes. I could kiss for hours, but kissing was all they got. Now that I'm older and wiser, I've heard stories of what that does to a guy. Oops.

My roomates and I used to like to kiss the guys who lived across from us in student housing at BYU. Looking back, I really don't understand what that was all about. They were almost like brothers to us, but we were all broke and had nothing better to do. Well, I suppose we could have read scriptures or something..... Nah, this was way more fun even though we all were truly just kissing. OK, maybe it was just me that was having fun.

My first husband was a HORRIBLE kisser. What was I thinking? Let's just say his saliva glands were working just fine. Ten years of that. Gag. I need to clear my head now. Yuck... I was just re-reading this to make sure I spelled everything right and had all of my t's crossed. Still seriously gagging. Heavily.

The boyfriend between the first husband and hubby didn't like kissing. Eight years of that. Can you imagine? Me? The kissing afficionado being with someone who doesn't like kissing? Shudder.

....cue in harp music and angelic sounding voices....

BJ... sigh. I remember our first kiss like it was yesterday. I get all mushy every time I think about it (and I think about it a lot!). We'd been on several dates before it happened. During those dates, I'd lust after those lips of his. I could tell that they would make for heavenly kissing. I was soooooo right. We were watching a movie, something we'd both find romantic. Stargate- (the movie!) Have I mentioned that we're both a couple of geeks?

The movie was done and we both just looked at each other, and then those lips of his turned into a couple of pillowy magnets. It was everything I'd imagined. After that kiss we both looked at each other and at the same time said, "wow". Really, we did. And it was. It was totally WOW.

It's still wow. I've been kissing those wonderful lips of his for two years and two months now and still can't get over how lucky I am that *I*, RisibleGirl, married the best kisser in the world.

...lucky me.

(have I mentioned how lucky I am?)

....sigh