GRAB YO'SELF YOUR OWN UNCLE JOE AND AWAY YOU GO...TO VEGAS, BABY!!!

Me and Uncle Joe...he's a great guy...brother to Cindy's late father...I've known Cindy's family since the early 70s...it was great seeing her mom again, and her mom's new husband (Virgil...what a wild ride he was, he was worth the entire trip).
This was shot at the butterfly garden in the lobby of the Bellagio...so beautiful....
This was from the tulip garden...also in the lobby of the Bellagio...
Thanks to my good friend Cindy who was kind enough to share her Uncle Joe with me and treat me to two days in Vegas...WOW....we had a blast...from the drive there (we solved every major problem known to man, which automatically solves every single problem known to WOman), to dinner at the Venetian, to $30.00 for chocolate-covered apricots (thanks Nancy *Cindy's mom*), to lunch the next day at Bobby Flay's restaurant (The Mesa Grill), to the drive home...total blast!

The thing about Vegas is its total surrealism. We totally forgot what day it was, what time it was, what season it was-the whole shebang. I understand how some people without moral compasses can buy into the whole, "what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas" thing....I mean, really....why didn't they just call that "Satan's Slogan"? It is definitely seductive...especially when you're being comped, wined, dined, and laughing and winning and riding that golden ticket all the way back to reality....so weird....

I went to use the bathroom....JUST THE BATHROOM...and while I was drying my hands, Cindy runs in saying, "Oh my gosh, I just won $200.00 on a penny machine!" Yea...Vegas baby....

And for the record....I didn't gamble once...not once....take THAT Satan....bwahahahahahah ;)

HAPPY BIRTHDAY ELI...Love, Momma

What? It can't be!!! No way. No stinkin' way!!! You can't be 27. Not possible. You were just born. Really. I remember. I was there, for cryin' out loud. The doctor was shocked because little, tiny baby girls had been born all night and then YOU arrived....a big, strapping 11 lb boy with a head full of thick, black hair. You were absolutely gorgeous...GORGEOUS!!!! Don't get me started.

You had some problems right off the cuff. Your sugar dropped to 17....BANG! They had to whisk you into the NICU. THAT was an interesting sight....there you were, a big 11 lb baby amidst little 2 and 3 lb babies. I couldn't get enough of you. When I could finally stand, I would waddle down there (and yes, it required two, TWO, reconstructive surgeries....for enquiring minds....) and just gaze upon you. What a magnificent sight. I remember one conversation I chanced upon....

Two women were standing by the window of the NICU, apparently they had babies in there...and they were staring at you....wondering, I'm certain, what in the world YOUR story was....

WOMAN ONE: *pointing to you while looking back and forth between her baby and you* Why don't they give my baby what they give THAT baby?

WOMAN TWO: Yea

WOMAN ONE: Whatever they gave that baby is working. I want my baby to have whatever THAT baby is having!

That was just the first of many proud (and hilarious) moments I have experienced since being your mother. Thank you for being you. Thank you for your kindness and compassion. Thank you for loving me. Thank you for being the husband and father that all mothers wish their sons to be. You take my breath away.

Here is my prayer for you, son. That your children understand at the deepest possible level how privileged and blessed they are to have you as their father and that they honor you by loving you and their mother and each other unconditionally all the days of their lives, and that they remain righteous and loving and yours for all eternally. This is your mother's prayer for you....always and forever....Happy Birthday, Eli. Love, Momma

MY HOMELESS DOPPLEGANGER....

PART ONE OF THE STORY: There is a lady here in the desert who kinda sorta resembles me. She is technically "homeless", or jobless, or whatever. I like her well enough. I've interacted with her before. She lives here in the winter time and resides in Temecula, or thereabouts, during the warm summer months. She's no dummy. I know that she resembles me because my granddaughter (how does one spell that word?..gran-daughter?...grandaughter?...) anyway, one of the cute, bright children I would die for once saw her and asked, "Moo Moo?"....I am assuming she was doing something relatively Moo-Moo-like, such as walking or just sitting, as opposed to say, being passed out on a park bench or standing at a busy intersection holding a sign that said, "Will avoid you for money".

PART TWO OF THE STORY: Anyway, I keep single dollar bills in my ash tray for the people that work the intersections. I don't know what they do with the money. It's none of my business. I know people have strong opinions on that topic, and I respect that, but for me, I err on the side of compassion and just give a buck and hope they buy a burger with it. I like the idea AND the alliteration...buck for a burger. In fact, I call them my "bucks for 'bos"...yea, it's a little stoopid...it means bucks for hobos, but I like my name better. And we may have actual hobos left here in the desert, albeit not the lovable old Red Skelton character, "Freddie the Freeloader"....no, but we have a train that goes through the Valley and lots of trees for cover and lots of bridges for sleeping, yada yada yada....so, anyway, I have "bucks for bos" in my ashtray.

PART THREE OF THE STORY: I was in my car driving with my IPod on...and therefore my IPod ear buds plugged in and the volume was up....wwwwaaaaayyyy up. Also, it's windows-down weather here in the desert....so....no one can hear my music but me....what people CAN hear is me SINGING my music....okay?

PART FOUR OF THE STORY: I was in my car driving up to a busy intersection WITH my IPod on too loud, singing even louder, and I saw...you guessed it...Debbie the homeless doppelganger holding her sign....no problem...I reached for one of my "bucks for bos"....handed it to her without stopping and noticed that DtD had a strange look on her face....usually she smiles a big toothy grin at me (she has a nice countenance, Debbie does), and then it hit me as I drove past her while waving....I handed her a buck while singing (without accompaniment) the Grace Slick song, "White Rabbit", the best rock song ever, but I was at the part where I was virtually yelling, "FEED YOUR HEAD......FEED YOUR HHHHHEEEEAAAADDDDDDD", with the requisite head bobbing.....Poor Debbie....and I'm talking about me here.......

THIS IS JUST IN THE CONSIDERING PHASES....

I am considering changing schools....just considering....but since I wear my heart on my sleeve and that's kinda sorta the purpose of this blog o'mine, which is to throw stuff out there and see what it stirs up, if anything, I'm considering transferring to another school, going from my current Master of Science to a Master of Arts (it's just funner, more relevant, less stressful, more engaging) and there's no "residency requirements" during the Master's portion of the school. Also, it has an accelerated program so I could complete it sooner....it's accredited by the North Central accrediting body, which governs Ohio State, Notre Dame, etc, so it has a proven track record for being fairly stringent when it comes to curriculum, etc.

If I still wanted to pursue the PhD, I could transfer back to my current school OR continue with that school....but if I change my major to "international cultural psychology" I would have to have a current passport because my residency would be overseas in 2 separate 9-day episodes and I would be working with immigrants (which reads like a nightmare to me, so maybe it's not my cup o'herb tea). The reason it reads like a nightmare to me is that I get attached and then I leave and then I have dreams that disturb me forever. On the other hand, what better way to prepare for a mission, right? Eh.......just something to throw out there.......

ADDENDUM TO MY HUMMINGBIRD POST:

I feel the need to post something about my hummingbirds-are-celestial-and-if -you-don't-see-it-you-must-be-broken-statement. That was rude of me. It was also rude of me to not stop and smile at the meth-addicted midget who might be admiring/hovering over the bush that my hummingbird is also admiring/hovering over. Heaven will be filled with people who didn't particularly like hummingbirds. It will also be filled with previously meth-addicted midgets. It may NOT be occupied, however, by people who assume attitudes and attributes of others....people like me....I personally may have some 'splainin' to do when I get there....I have a fear that when I arrive at those pearly gates, St. Peter, or whomever, is going to throw his hand up in a stop-right-there-sister kind of way while bringing his other hand forward and waving his index finger in a "no-no" manner, all the while looking at me over the tops of his celestial glasses and saying just one word...."katzbox".....

A VARIATION ON A RECIPE FROM ABBY....

Last night I had to make a quick meal and I didn't have the heart to make tuna salad, which was on the menu. We didn't get to make "buffalo pizza" last week, so I thought I'd do a little switcheroo and come up with a hybrid thingy. Here's what I did, iffin' anyone's interested....

I bought a frozen 4-cheese Red Baron pizza from Walmart for $3.33.
I drizzled BBQ sauce over the top of it.
Next, I covered it with the chicken from one can of Kirkland brand chicken from Costco. I abhor canned meat, but Kirkland brand chicken is the real deal and is lean and scrumptious.
Over the chicken I sprinkled shredded cheddar cheese, but you could use any cheese you wish.
Over the cheese I drizzled more BBQ sauce.
I followed the directions and baked at 425-degrees for the full time and voila!!!

The boys loved it and there was absolutely none left over. Prep time was maybe 8 minutes, baking time was less than 15 minutes, and ingestion time was even less than that. Enjoy!

HUMMINGBIRDS ARE CELESTIAL....

So, I accompanied the missionaries to a young woman's house today and right in front of her living room window was a beautiful tree with a delightful hummingbird buzzing all around. It just hovered and zoomed all around the tree and then all around us. He was a gorgeous emerald green color. It was adorable.

I have one that calls the bush outside our door its home. He's a cutie also. More purply than green and just stunning.

I was speaking to Em on the phone right now and she said, "There is an adorable little hummingbird just hovering around this bush right now as I'm talking to you. He's so cute!".

"I know!" I replied, "I think they're celestial!"

And I do...how could they not be?...look at them...all little and trembly and buzzy.. okay... I just described a midget on meth, but you get the picture, right? These birds are just take-your-breath-away-beautiful. They do that to you. Em and I discussed this. How can a person NOT notice a hummingbird and be taken aback by it? How can one stridently ignore such a creature of beauty? It simply must register within you that you've seen a creature of such fragile beauty! It must! If it doesn't, then I believe, you are broken. Something must be broken inside of you if you can swat away a hummingbird and not take notice of its' tremulous beauty. There. I said it.

Keep flying little trembly, buzzy, flighty piece of art...no, not you little meth addicted midget....I know you're dealing with things and I wish you well, but I won't stop what I'm doing and smile at you while you're hovering over a flowering bush and tremulously sticking your nose down a flower....sorry....I've got my own problems.....but YOU hummingbird...you just keep it going my friend...you rock nature!!!....