What Kind of Coffee Are You?
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I thought this was appropriate since I work in a cafe!

The Federal Trade Commission has a proposal for a National Do Not Call Registry. I think it is a great idea, but I do think that the telemarketers will find some way around the whole situation. I've already signed up for Pennsylvania's "Do Not Call" list, and I have to say that the amount of telemarketers calling my house has greatly diminished. I still get calls from companies that I already deal with, like my local newspaper subscription department, but I can deal with that.

Awful Things Parents Do To Their Kids
It took me til my pre-teen years to figure out why, in a store (especially a grocery store), you could never walk in front of my Mother (or in front of the cart she was pushing). My Mom was a sneaky woman. Not to gross anyone out here, but my Mom had a secret plan. If she had to, ahem, pass gas, she would first check to see if anyone was near. Then she would do the deed, and quickly walk ahead, leaving you in her wake. If anyone happened by you, they would look at you with a scrunched up nose, as if you were wearing a limburger cheese jacket, then hurry on by. I never understood what was the deal, but I would quickly catch up to my Mom. Soon, as I became more aware of the world around me, I realised that I was my Mom's scapegoat. I remember once being in a bookstore with her, standing in front of the magazine rack. We were talking about the latest issue of some magazine, when suddenly, in the blink of an eye, she disappeared around a shelf of books, just in time for me to get a whiff of something strong in the air. I turn around, and standing next to me was a store clerk, straightening up the rack. There was no way that he could have not smelled what I smelled. With a nervous clearing of my throat, I sidled away to find my Mother, and when I did, she had this smug little grin on her face. There were plenty of things that I would do for my Mother, but being the fall guy for my Mom's flatulation problem wasn't one of them! We came to a semi-agreement, that she wouldn't do that to me anymore, but there were lapses when she still tried! I used to get her back by loudly exclaiming, "MOM!" and walking away, but there were still times when she caught me unaware!

I had a conversation the other day with a co-worker. She had told me that she and her parents had gone to the local ASPCA, with the hopes of adopting a dog or puppy. In one cage was a 5 month old chocolate Lab pup, and the sign hanging from the cage read, "great with kids, housebroken". She said she fell in love with the pup as soon as she saw him. Her father asked the woman in charge if they could see the pup. They took them to a private play area where they could "meet" each other. Now, we all know how excitable a puppy is, right? Well, my co-worker sat down on the floor, and they brought the puppy in. As puppies usually do, he wanted to play. She started to play wrestle with the pup, and he jumped on her lap, and in his excitement, he pee'd on her. Not alot, but enough to freak her out. Her parents went nuts, saying that they can't have a dog that isn't housebroken, so it was out of the question to adopt this pup. I can't help thinking about this. I feel sad for the puppy, as I tend to give humanistic feelings to animals (and inanimate objects like teddy bears, but that is a whole other story). The pup was probably so happy that someone was showing interest in him. He starts playing whole-heartedly, and his tiny little bladder couldn't handle the excitement, so he pee'd. I wonder what he was thinking when he was taken back to the tiny little cage. Was he thinking he was a bad boy? I tried to explain what happened to my co-worker (I did work for a vet, and also had enough pets throughout my life to be able to give advice on this), but she wouldn't hear of it. I'm tempted to call the shelter to see if the pup was adopted... my heart would break if he wasn't, because I can't take another dog at this time.

I love the sound of leaves crunching under my feet. As I went for my walk, the brightly colored leaves were desperately clinging to the nearly bare branches of the trees. I found myself giving human characteristics to the leaves. I know that sounds crazy, but once I started, I couldn't stop. I don't think that any of my thoughts were original, as I read too many books, but it was somewhat fun. "Leaves playfully skipping across the street, visually echoing the sounds of the children's laughter". "Leaves chasing a car down the street". "Leaves blowing in a rush across the pavement, barely touching the ground, as if late for an important meeting". Yes, this is what goes through my mind as I walk my dogs!

I have realized that I will never beat my husband at chess. I don't have a strategic mind. He looks at the pieces on the board, and plans war. I look at the pieces, and think, "oh what a great composition for a drawing", and them my mind drifts off down the road to my own personal la-la land! Then, slam!, he has captured another piece! I swear he knows what moves I will make and plans accordingly. Our first game tonight, was over in something like 5 moves. Then I got all pouty, and whiny about never being allowed to win. So he made our second game last 20 minutes. He even let me think I was going to win... I actually thought I had his king trapped. Then, in the blink of an eye, it was over... he captured my king. As much as I complain, I wouldn't trade our one-sided matches for anything (well, maybe for a computer match game of NHL 2003... I'm a master, who's tough to beat! HA!).

Chicago got the cows... we are getting mules!

Bill got home a little late tonight. We decided to go to the pizza shop that is down the street from our house. It's owned by two Italian brothers who can barely speak a word of English. It's fun when you go in there, because they subscribe to Italian television (not sure if it's cable or a satellite). We ate dinner tonight accompanied by the Italian version of VH1! We've been going to this place because it's cheap and the food is good. Now, there is an added benefit. The "bald" brother makes the best soup that I have ever tasted! Bill gets the pasta fagiole (my Mom used to make it, and we would call it "pasta fazool", because we didn't know how to pronounce it!), and I get the chicken noodle. I used to think that my brother-in-law (who is also from Italy) made the best pasta fagiole, but this tops even his secret recipe! There is nothing like a hot bowl of chicken noodle soup. It's m-m-good!

I just joined Participation Positives and here's my first posting.

-I have a wonderful husband who loves me for me.
-I have two dogs who keep my feet warm when I am sitting at my desk.
-I have fond memories of a wonderful childhood.
-I'm thankful for my ability to draw and be creative.
-There are 4 libraries and three major bookstores within driving distance from where I live.
-We only have one month left.
-I have a part-time job, and though it isn't rocket science, I know I am good at what I do and I treat people with respect.
-I'm thankful that someone invented cafe mocha!

Today would have been my Dad's 70th birthday. He has been gone from this earth since May 1994. He is still strong in my heart. I love you and miss you, Dad.

Because this is Veteran's Day, too, I was thinking about the stories my Dad used to tell about serving in the Army. I believe he served at the end of the Korean Conflict, but he was stationed in Germany. He was a cook, and learned alot of his skills while there. Food and cooking are in our blood!

He also told me the story of his brother Bobby, who I never met. He was a pilot during WW II. He was set to come home, and only had a few days left. One of the guys in his squadron was sick, and Bobby volunteered to do their flight (I don't know all the "technical" words). It was during that flight that my uncle was shot down and killed over Germany. My Father idolized my uncle. I have the stark black and white photos of the cemetary in Germany where my uncle is buried. It's very solemn, with all the white crosses in perfectly straight rows as far as the eye can see. I wish I was able to meet my Uncle Bob... he was a true hero.

It's been one heck of a day. I swear I had every crazy customer that felt like eating at Panera Bread. Usually, there is one or two a day, but today, it was one right after another. The little bitchy co-worker was also on my case today. She was so nasty to me that I was going to quit. I forced my manager to give me a break, and I went into the restroom and splashed water on my face, take a deep breath and to calm down. My sister had a problem at work a while ago, with a co-worker. I told her it's never a good reason to quit a job you enjoyed because of another person. Here I was ready to do that today. I phoned Bill, and he made me feel better. He said that I need to remember that she is just a kid and I am better than that. I treat people with respect, and I have this crazy idea that I should be treated the same way. Everyone deserves courtesy. I care too much, and shouldn't expect everyone to be that way. I'll be in for alot of let-downs in my life, I know. Compound this with the fact that I felt sick all day, it seemed like everything was against me. It just wasn't supposed to be a good day for me. When someone was actually nice to me, I was so grateful I wanted to hug them! I need tomorrow to be a better day!