Ominous.

Anyway, in celebration of my last day at some nameless corporately owned coffee establishment, I got a manicure and pedicure.

I hate these things; they make me uncomfortable, they hurt and/or tickle, and I usually get hit on by women. This time, the pain was minimal, I was able to withstand minor tickling, and no one hit on me.

In fact, someone who barely spoke English leaned into me and said, “You need eyebrow wax?” Um, no thank you.

What’s wrong with my eyebrows?

I wasn’t, however, able to work my massage chair because, while I may own and operate my own website, use a fancy sewing machine, and make my grandma’s computer print, I cannot work a self-explanatory (or so I’m told) remote control or switch lines on my cell phone.

I usually come away saying, “I could do better than this,” but this time I didn’t. So, thanks for the recommendation, Jenni.

I took a little time to antique (verb) today, and really didn’t find too much. I didn’t come home with anything, actually.

I did, however, find out that my beloved purple amethyst Depression glass actually started out clear. It is only tinged purple due to the lead’s interaction with the sun over the years. This coloring only applies to the very light purple items and not the darker purple varieties (Moroccan? Not real familiar yet.)

This made me a little nervous, but an old lady assured me that there wasn’t enough lead in the glass to cause a user any damage. I hope she’s right. Old ladies are right, right?

I think that the small plates I recently purchased off eBay are “sun purple”. And I think that a large serving plate I won today is actually purple. I can’t say without seeing them, but I think so

Here’s the thing: My family teases me that I have no strength. Anywhere. They’re wrong, and I’ve kept it a secret for many a year.

I can lift a gigantic bottle of water. That’s right. It took a long time for me to drain one of those giant bottles of water that goes on our water machine, and to be honest, I was hoping that when I did, my parent’s would be in town.

Alas, no. Yesterday, after having worked for 6 hours on the verge of vomiting because no one would pick up their phone, I hauled one of those bottles from the garage, across the kitchen, and turned it upside-down to fix atop the water machine.

Take that. I may not have actual strength, but I have determination.

Of course, after all that hard work, I needed water glasses to put my newly acquired water in.

I thought about getting two sets, but I figure if I progress with this depression glass stuff, one will be sufficient.

Speaking of depression glass, I started my collection this morning via eBay. Before I left for work, I bid on this.

When I came back from work, they were mine. All 6 of them (at least I think 6).

While I was at Target, picking up those glasses, I saw some white salt & pepper shakers in the shape of fish. For some reason, I really liked those… For some horrible, self-deprecating reason. (I’m pretty sure that’s not the right way to use that coupling of words, but you may not know that, so I’m leaving it.)

Jon & Kate Plus 8 continues to amaze me. I don’t care what allegedly happened with various members of their friends and family. Their children seem to be very well behaved and adjusted. They’re endlessly fascinating.

A phone rang seven times during church this evening.

On the way to dinner with my brother, I saw a car like mine with a Hawaii tag. I got pretty excited about that.

Today, I found out that one of my customers was in rodeos for a few years, but never got on a horse. That’s so bizarre. His grandparents, apparently, even raised Arabians. While I’m talking about customers, let’s talk about Susan who makes the neatest things! I wish I had her kind of time.

S.A.M.S.P.A.R.R.O. by, um, Sam Sparro

Grandma comes to places with snacks. Recently, her snacks have been a trail mix by Sprouts that includes Toasted Corn. I love the corn. Last week, Grandma bought me some corn. It pertains to the next story; that’s the only reason I told you this one.

This weekend, in the life of Meagan, I walked down to the donkey pen to see if I could tempt Henry with some toasted corn…

…but I was distracted by the sound of a golf cart (okay, it makes no sound because it’s electric) headed toward a small herd of angus that had wandered onto our property.

(Uh, did I do the flash wrong on that one?) I thought Dad and Cowboy Cory were going to round them up and herd them on down the street, so I climbed Buddy’s fence and walked purposefully across his pasture toward the cows. Dad and Cory didn’t come, but I didn’t realize they weren’t until I was already there, however my presence caused the cows to scatter (even though there was a fence between us).

As I got to the fence and started taking pictures of the oddly small cattle, Buddy suddenly became interested in me. He ambled over and stole the corn I’d been saving for Henry.

(Yes, it’s corn in that yellow Hello Kitty container.) Then he nudged me, pushed me, and wiggled his oddly dexterous lips at me trying to find more. I climbed up onto the gate to watch the cows graze back toward me, and Buddy stayed with me. Over me, under me, pushing me, laying his large cumbersome head in my lap.

After I sat for a while and got sufficiently dirty, I hopped down and wandered off to the barn. As I approached, Nala, the neighbor’s Weimaraner, started barking at me like she didn’t know who I was.

So, instead of inciting an attack, I stood outside the barn and let Cowboy Cory berate her for her treatment of me. Then, I wandered around the barn and found my first deadly spider. (They are deadly, yeah?)

Dad squashed it. (Black Widow, in case you can’t tell. Click on it and it’ll get bigger. If you’re not chicken.)

It was slightly disconcerting to see that it was in the same stall Mom has been putting the kittens in during the day.

Speaking of the kittens, I returned to the breezeway from the barn and sat down with Alice and Jasper where I related the story of the black widow (and all things before) in a text message. (Apparently it was actually 3.)

Of course, the text was cut short by Alice who plucked a sticker from my jeans and got it stuck in her mouth. I grabbed her and ran in a panic to my mother who did an emergency sticker-ectomy with some tweezers.

That was frightening.

By the way, if someone saw my bare legs today, they’d probably think I was a cutter. The cats are getting heavier and sharper. That’s Pearlie’s biggest complaint: “Those kittens are too sharp.”

Today, I followed Mom back to Dallas to do some fabric shopping. Please note here that I was following my Mom. She passed a car, so I was passing with her. This jerk (it’s coming up) in a silver Pontiac cut in between us. I made sure to give him as much room as he was giving my mother, but he decided to flip me off anyway. Then, he slammed on his breaks so hard that his tires smoked and I could smell them. I honked.

A lot.

Then he did it again. When he got over to the right and I passed him with my mom, I put on my cruise so he could tailgate me all he wanted to appease his roadrage and I wouldn’t hit him.

Sometimes people are just jerks.

But anyway, some of you will be pleased to know that I managed to get her to (She thinks I railroaded because I was able to accomplish this in only one store when she had a list of several to go to. However, because I won, we got to eat at Kabab.) buy fabric for curtains in both back bedrooms. Thus far, there have been no window coverings. And while I’m okay with that while there’s an empty house, I doubted a house and yard full of Thanksgiving (or are we calling it my birthday this year?) guests would appreciate the lack of privacy due to no curtains. For some reason, she doesn’t trust me to finish the curtains. Maybe it’s because of that time I made a 12-square quilt in 9. Who knows. But anyway, I’ll assemble them, she’ll finish, and they’ll be up in time. They’re awesome. I’m just letting you know.

Oh, and then tonight I had a guy lump me with all women everywhere. He made assumptions about me, then told me how I felt, then wouldn’t let me correct him. To top it off, he said he’d pray for me. What’s that about?

Five more days of serving coffee to the most high maintenance people in the world. :) Sometimes I wonder why some of them don’t buy espresso machines and make it themselves. It would be cheaper. But then they’d have no one to gripe at when it came out wrong. Ah, I say it with humor. It’s amusing, but only in a sad, depressing way. Anything someone can control…

Rumor has it, Obama’s going to try to ban handguns. This is lunacy. “And… is the Constitution going to play into that decision at all? I mean, there’s no reasonable reason he should succeed, right?” I don’t know.

In A Little While, the Hanson version

I’ve spent my whole life waiting.

…for whatever I think is going to happen.

Tonight on the way home from church, I stopped at a coffee shop and got a solo short, no whip, half inch of room Signature Hot Chocolate, and ran into a good friend. I sat down for a minute and he told me that he was just reading one of his friend’s blogs who wrote about the neon sign that everyone has above their head. You know, what your presence is saying to the world.

Mine is, “Is it over yet?” or, “Are we done yet?”

Over the years, this has meant a lot of different things. Recently it’s been meaning 1) “Am I done with this ridiculous job yet?” 2) “Isn’t this election over yet?” and 3) “Hasn’t the economy crashed so I can move to the country yet?”

This is probably not a good way to live my life, but I’ve never lived in the moment. Oh well.

grandma: “Do you remember the calves? We had sheep, too, but that was before you were born. April only had them one at a time. Can you still call them sheep then? You can’t call it a shep… Sheep doesn’t sound right.”

I went to Kabab for lunch! I haven’t been since Uncle Keith’s meeting. I walked in and this strange man tried to seat me. I gave him a funny look, then walked to my usual seat. Then I saw the owner’s son and asked about him, and he said this guy has been around a while. I guess I just haven’t seen him.

That was kind of a boring story, huh?

But gasp! I ate there by myself, and read my book. :)

I’ve been watching a new Dugger Family special on TLC tonight. That family’s so neat. Going on 18 kids, I believe.

6 Degrees of Separation from the Dugger’s: me, my dad, Edwin Viera, Meredith Viera, The Duggers!

This weekend (among other things I did) I fulfilled life-long dream #2 (#1 being the 4th of July thing) of going to a haunted house! I’ve never been because my lame friends won’t go with me. (That’s right, lame, like an old horse.) But James did, and it was awesome!

Not so much scary, but fun. I think I want to be in one next year. I wonder how I can pull that off.

(Okay, so I went one other time at FC, but that doesn’t count because FC is alternate reality.)

Wii Music! Neat!

ps. I’m sorry, Jenny. I, uh, meant to call you. But I, uh, drowned my phone. That last part is true.

I see this in Alice’s future.

This weekend, I got on Buddy again. This time, I can say I actually rode him instead of just walking around the round pen. I brought out the English saddle to tack him up, but realized the western girth I’d borrowed wasn’t going to cut it. So Mom and I hauled out to the neighbor’s and got him all fancied up as he’s used to. Mom watched as I struggled with Buddy for a while. She assisted in shoving him away from the railing as he leaned in to squish me again. After that, she went to get Joanne and Cowboy Cory.

I was given some simple instructions, had minimal success, and while Joanne went to get whip so I could lunge orneryness out of him, Cowboy Cory jumped in to show Buddy who was boss. As Cory flew around the ring, Buddy was putting up some serious attitude. And Cory’s just had 4 major joints replaced… So, at watching this hideous display of bad behavior via Buddy, Mom and I scoffed at Joanne as she weeks ago said to me, “Ride Buddy, he’s a kid’s horse. No problem!” And I didn’t feel so bad that I had such trouble last time.

I also don’t feel so bad now that my whole body is sore, considering Cory said Buddy’s a pretty rough ride. Man alive. Two days later and I’m still walking bow-legged.

Sunday, I went to church where Brandon Bell’s dad preaches. I think he has Celiac Disease. No, I’m serious.

Mom and I went on Saturday to the Edom Art Festival! We were looking for a saddle stand and a longhorn rug. Instead, Mom came away with… a soap dispenser. I tried to convince her to buy a Ryan Ayer’s piece, but I wasn’t successful. Someday, I’d like to myself.

Oh yeah, she got a metal goat, too. You know those lame people who have fake animals in their front yard? Surprisingly, there’s a lot of that in the country. As if there wasn’t real wildlife to look at. I could understand if fake deer fooled real deer into thinking that your front yard is safe and then they hang out. But, plastic ducks? Plastic pigs? What kind of pink pigs are wandering the countryside?

To me, fake animals are pretty much on the same level as fake plants. Just say no.

But, she got this metal goat as a mock to the fake animal trend. It also holds a potted plant, so it’s cool.

earlier
me: “Alice peed on my bed.”
mom: “Clean it up.”
me: “She was digging in my sponge rollers, maybe she thought it was big litter.”

later
me: “Pearlie, get over here, or I’m going to bring those kittens in here.”
mom as Pearlie: “Kittens aren’t allowed on the bed, they might wee.”
me: “You’ve weed plenty of places before.”
mom as Pearlie: “Only outside and on my wee pads. …and right beside my wee pads, when I thought my hiney was on it.”
me: “In Alice’s defense, she probably thought her hiney was in my sponge rollers.”
mom as Pearlie: “When you’re little, sometimes you just can’t tell where your hiney is.”