I was just sitting here thinking about stuff (stuff being the technical word for it). I wonder how many people are sorely disappointed when they run across my blog. I was perusing (fancy word, huh?) my blog stats and what people googled to find my blog. There are many people who google “organized scrapbook room”. Sheesh, I’ll bet they want to cry when they see the pictures of my room. It’s more of a how not to organize post. There’s five minutes of their lives that they will never get back!
I’m also surprised at how many people google “Jello wedding”. Here’s a hint – for pete’s sake, do not serve Jello at your wedding! Unless your nuptials are on Jerry Springer, of course. Then all bets are off. And, once again, what the heck is a toilet pan and why are all you people googling it? One more hint, no you can not wear a t-shirt under a tube top! Gee whiz. If you have to have an engineer tell you that you have no fashion sense, then I just don’t even know what to say. That’s bad. I hate to disappoint these people who are obviously looking for guidance from my superior intellect, but what can I say? I don’t like helping people – it’s my one character flaw.
I was also thinking about some of the stuff my mother used to tell my 2 sisters and me. Besides telling us water would run uphill, of course. She used to tell us all the time that she knew a girl who stuck her arm out the car window while they were driving down the road and it fell off but the girl didn’t know it until she pulled the bloody stump back into the window. To this day, I’m scared to let any appendages stick out the window. I nearly have a panic attack when I see people with their arms sticking out the window while they drive down the road. I want to scream at them, “When your arm falls off for no reason, don’t wave your bloody stump at me! I warned you!”
Now that I think of it, I think my mother had some strange obsession with our hands. Once we wanted to help her drop cookies and she told us that we couldn’t help because you had to have “special wet hands” to drop the cookies. Now that I’m a mother, I can totally understand why she didn’t want the help, but what a dorky excuse; especially since she does have a very good imagination. I think of that every time I make cookies too. Not that I often make cookies or anything. She’ll probably come comment that I’m making this stuff up, but my imagination really isn’t as good as hers. Plus, if she wants a t-shirt tote, she better not!
Another thing I was thinking about was “What Would Ronald Reagan Do?” Or WWRRD? I love Reagan’s ideas; the smarter I get, the smarter he looks. I wish we had him as a presidential candidate today. But I gotta think that if he saw what a mess the federal government is today that he’d probably have a fit. Turns out, what he’d really do is kick back and have a smoke and then he’d cut the front off the carton and send it to his friends as a beautiful Christmas card (or is that Martha Stewart? I’m always getting those 2 mixed up). I have proof of this thanks to my alert friend Dorrie (who makes awesome posole, by the way). Well, I don’t know if she actually makes awesome posole because I’ve never had any that she made, but I used her posole recipe to make it myself and it was awesome. Anyway, here’s the proof.