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me a domestic diva? not so much, or rather: not yet

Okay, so I totally fail at domestic divaship.

I broke my ironing board while just trying to use it.  I dropped the iron.  I burned a finger (but not badly because I forgot how to turn the iron up really high).  And while I was ironing, I made brownies, too!  Yes, I did manage to make GREAT brownies!  Well, the brownies “taste” great, but when one is eaten at 10:00  in the morning, one cannot expect it to have a good effect on one’s digestive system…

Yes, my own brownies made me sick.

If I were to grade my work, an F would unfortunately result.

I never did take home-eck as a kid. Eck.  I hated the idea of it, it turned my stomach even back then because I knew I’d fail at it and be embarrassed and be “outed” as a perpetual tomboy.   But, I did take “typing” in high school and it has served me very, very well.  I consider typing class to have been the very best investment in my future as a writer….truly has served me well.  (Home-eck would have served me well, too, but I couldn’t stomach it back then.)

Typing was the better choice for me.

Can you tell when someone did not take typing in High school? I can, and I feel sorry for them as they look longingly at those of us with proper finger form.

You can always spot the uneducated typist.  They don’t have a clue where to rest their fingers! But, the good ones, oh they can peck away and if you didn’t know better, you’d think they were Mozart the way they can make music with a keyboard!

But, I see my colleagues struggle at the keyboard and I say to my self, awww they must have taken Home -eck.   They have not learned that the left pinkie goes on the “A” key, and the left index finger goes on the “F” key and it’s systematic how you contact the other keys up above and below those keys. Likewise, the right pinkie rests on the “;” key; the index finger should rest on the “K” key.

Oh, and there’s the proper wrist action and wrist suspension when you type….those poor Home-eck devotees truly don’t know….

Yes, typing class in High School was the best class I ever took. It’s the class that’s had the most long-term application in my life.

My mom, when I was growing up, never made me cook and never showed me how to cook either, tom-boy that I was. I was far too interested in softball, horses, and in playing football with boys than in becoming domesticated. And, it must have been clear to her early on that I was not made of the material for marriage.

I was never interested in things that made my girlfriends giggle with delight. I could have cared less about the latest fashions or the prettiest wedding dresses; I abhorred the idea of house cleaning (preferred always to hire someone to do it) because the smell of the Windex and the Comet or the Bleach literally made me sick.

But, things have sure changed. Now I am a good cook, when I feel like cooking, which isn’t often, but I’m good at it when I put my creative juices into it! And now, even though I absolutely hate to iron, I will do it every few months, or so. Therefore, I will just wait until next year to replace my iron and ironing board.

Now I am settled and more the domesticated diva…well, my house is clean and the detergents don’t make me barf anymore… so that’s something.

And now, well, I would like to look at wedding dresses. Yes I would.

And so….. well, I have decided to join………………………… drum roll please………………………………… eHarmony!

Yes. I do want to get married one day, before its too late. Now that I know not to settle for anything, I want to settle for someone.

My friend joined eHarmony and he tells me it’s amazing how it works. He has had great success with it………………………. so…………………….okay. I will try it.

oh my goodness, this is beyond scary!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (This deserves lots of exclamation points wouldn’t you agree?!)

So, I will keep you posted. And, I’d love to have tips if any of you have used eHarmony…..

Today’s a rainy day…. maybe it’s just the day for some harmony?


shoe fly

The latest sad story in the Anthony Family saga has to do with shoes and some embarrassment.

The story has to do with a small not-for-profit organization that collects shoes from the community to assist people in Honduras who go without.  They hold “shoe drives” and attempt to assist the unfortunate in Hondurus.

When the Anthony’s learned of the most recent shoe drive, driven by the not-for-profit group , they thought a nice gesture (and perhaps a bit of good publicity) would come from their donation of some of Caylee Anthony’s shoes.

Not so fast.  The report of the Anthony’s determination to share the shoes came with its usual negative backlash from the community who saw the effort by the Anthony’s as yet another attempt for publicity and self-aggrandizement.

However, the Anthony’s were not swayed by the negative press.  The Anthony’s donated shoes after all, but reportedly they were not Caylee’s.  Rather the shoes the Antony’s donated were new soles.  Not soles that had once borne Caylee’s soul.

New shoes were a better fit.  The organization did not want to be associated with the Anthony’s.  They didn’t want that kind of publicity.  One cannot blame them.

Sad that the Anthony’s wear the soles of their worn out feet on their battered hearts for all to see and mock.  I wish they would simply go quietly into that good night, allowing little Caylee’s soles and soul some rest for a bit.

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