Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Stalled Feet

I’m a people watcher. I like to look at the feet of the person in the stall next to me in public restrooms. This is especially entertaining in the summer months when women wear open-toed shoes and sandals. I find it a game to see if I can guess things about the person to whom the pair belongs. Is she young or old? Married or single? Confident or insecure? You can tell, you know? Red or bright colors express confidence. Well-groomed suggests she's single or fashionable. Rough, cracked, dry skin means she's so old she doesn't give a damn about glamour. I learned this from those personality tests I take online. A particular set of tootsies I saw last week took the prize. I thought they must be the feet of a very busy, out-dated, older woman. Her nail polish was applied in the late 1970's and the nails hadn't been clipped since then. Boy, was I surprised when I peeked through the crack of the door jam while she was washing her hands. She was a rather pretty young woman who probably wasn't even born in the 1970's. Blew my foot fashion theory to hell.

DATE: 8/17/2000 5:03:36 PM
SUBJECT: RE: Stalled Feet

At least she washes her hands! Apparently she doesn't extend that same courtesy to her feet. Perhaps you need to add cleanliness to the list of things you can tell about a person by looking at their feet!!

DATE: 8/18/2000 9:13:39 AM
SUBJECT: RE: Stalled Feet

Boy, am I glad I painted my toenails yesterday! After living on the boat for 10 days my nail polish was almost non-existent. I wouldn't want anyone to think I was from the 70's era. I'm more like the 50's and 60's!

DATE: August 18, 2000 10:15:30 AM
SUBJECT: RE: Stalled Feet

You really need to put your mind (what's left of it) to something more constructive.

DATE: August 18, 2000 10:22:58 AM
SUBJECT: RE: Stalled Feet

I like this one. I am going to try that game the next time I am in a stall. It sounds like fun!

Saturday, July 25, 2009

Death by Diet

Kim and I tried to commit suicide at lunch today. We ate at an elegant buffet called Karendales. We did really well with our grazing until the waitress brought out a dessert sampler on a silver tray to the guy across the room from us. We looked at one another and began surveying the temptation. Finally, we made a dash for the waitress. We had her bring one of those platters with an assortment of high-caloried fudge, cheesecake, carrot cake, ice cream, strawberries and chocolates covered with raspberry and caramel sauce. We savored every bite. To say the least, we both blew a huge hole in our low-fat, no-sugar diet. As we waddled back to the car, I was feeling so bloated and guilty. This is only the second time in six months I've had sweets. If I had Syrup of Ipecac handy I'd drink it and puke so I could breathe again. I can't even button my pants and I NEED a nap. I weighed myself on the shipping scales before lunch. I had gained two pounds after our escapade; and that was after my first “run” to the porcelain parlor. WHY did I DO this to myself? SOMEBODY slap me - Just DON'T touch my belly.

Gotta go! Literally!

SENT: Wednesday, July 26, 2000 11:24 AM
SUBJECT: RE: Death by Diet

Mah Dearest Spressy,

I truly enjoyed your Death by Diet story. I reread it again today. I just have to share a story about our small town. Our town is really small but we do have a local Chief of Po-leece Chief Bodine (pronounced Bow-dene) is a true Cajun. No one messes with Bodine! He tours around town two or three times a day, usually between coffee stops at one of the two area stores. Now Bodine has a deputy. He's not really a true deputy but works with Bodine and is a “wanna-be-deputy'. His name is Barney, really, that is his name and he is a small “Barney Fife” type character. As I said, this is a small town with a small budget. The story goes that Barney doesn't have a real Po-leece car with a real siren. Instead, he drives his Geo and has a toggle switch with an outside speaker. When in hot pursuit, he hits the toggle switch and it plays a tape of a siren screaming, just like the Sheriff's car. Barney has never actually got to pursue anyone so he only plays the tape in front of the city hall to see if it is working. Well... one day while Bodine and Barney were sitting in the local store enjoying their third cup of coffee, one of the “good old boys'“ pickup truck went streaking through town running our only stop sign. Bodine said “This is your chance Barney, go get 'em.” Barney jumped in his Geo and took off in hot pursuit and flipped the toggle switch to blast out his siren tape. However, seems someone swapped the tape and replaced it with the William Tell Overture. So off goes Barney down the street with his tape blaring “Titty-rump, Titty-rump, titty rump, rump, rump! Poor Barney, he will never live this down. Do take care now, you hear?

Your Aunt, Suzy Sunflower

Monday, July 20, 2009

Guess What?!

Hi-Ya People,

Here's the latest news from the Valiant, Victorious, non-Vacillating, Expressy. I've been through the wilderness of “What-the Hell-Happened?!” over the last few months but alas, a wind-blown, More-than-Conqueror warrior, surfaces from the dust. It’s the stuff movies are made of.

You may have noticed that I've changed my last name since you last heard from me. It's true that I got un-married, but I didn’t have a chance to go back to my maiden name. that's because I eloped on July 7th with a wonderful guy named Frankie.

So many of you were concerned about my six month absence from church while I grieved the literal falling apart of my life. No sooner did I get back into church than I met Husband #2 who had been praying for a Godly wife. I seemed to fit the criteria for which he had prayed and since he didn't ask for my references, here I am married to a man that I've known only since Easter (resurrection) Sunday; a total of ten weeks. I call that taking a giant, risk-taking, leap of least on his part! Wait until he finds out I'm not exactly the candidate he bargained for. hee hee!

That's not all. Frankie and I are in the process of buying a house. I went on an outing with the realtor, looked at four houses and put a contract on one that is perfect for us. We await loan approval. The Divine has provided everything we needed to move forward and even took the stress out of the whole thing. We have exactly what we asked for.

Frankie is a musician. We enjoy singing, playing and writing songs together. We like being outdoors, going camping, hiking, and doing other recreational sports such as laying on a blanket while watching fluffy clouds pass over. Frankie has an acute sense of humor, so much so that my daughter says I have met my match and that the two of us deserve one another – whatever that means! There's never a dull moment!

Speaking of my daughter, she is speaking to me again. We see each other just about every week and I talk to her often. She has matured into a beautiful young lady. She is working full-time for a vision care center as the receptionist and patient care assistant to a group of optometrists and ophthalmologists. She is finishing her senior year of high school in her spare time. She had a 3.7 GPA last semester. We're shopping for her senior ring and photos. Even though she is home schooled, she wants to have her old high school engraved on her ring. She says that's the only high school she went to that she really liked. She has saved enough money to make a down payment on a car and has been going to dealerships giving them hell trying to make a deal that she feels is worth taking. She's got more spunk than a skunk! hahaha!

More about my new husband: I could not have asked for a better match in a mate especially since I wasn't asking. Frankie has three children and two grandchildren and another on the way. Frankie took me to meet his family. They will never be the same.

We bought a vacation package for a cruise to the Bahamas. It was an offer that came via the fax machine at work. Since I’ve only been at this job for three months, I don’t have enough vacation time to take the cruise this year. We’ll take it next year. I hope this offer is legitimate.

Wednesday, July 15, 2009


DATE: June 6, 2000 10:44 AM

You may be new to my mailing list. Consider it as you would a sweepstakes letter. You won't win anything but you'll never get your name off the list. I've been writing email episodes for about two years and sometimes they are actually entertaining. Sometimes they are unbelievable. They are always true with very little fabrication added. So, you can change your email address now or continue to read on and endure!

I had three job offers this week for a full-time permanent position with benefits. The job I chose has a great environment, wonderful people, and excellent benefits. So far, I have been able to utilize the skills I picked up while temping and I am challenged to learn and grow without being overly stressed. Thank God!

I've become known as the Nut lady at work because I have a jar on my desk that's usually filled with cashews, sunflower kernels or Spanish peanuts. It's empty today due to the pit stops made by my co-workers. Today at 10 o'clock break, I had so much food on my desk that I couldn't find my work. I've spoiled my co-workers by sharing my treats everyday for the last few weeks. I had no choice. Every time I opened my drawer, two or three heads would pop over the edge of my cubicle to see what low carb delicacy I was delving out. Today one of the salesmen came by to ask a question about a letter I had sent. I had a huge chaw of beef jerky tucked in one cheek and a hand full of pork rinds waiting on the runway. Of course the phone rang before I could finish chewing. I shifted the wad of jerky and with some difficulty swallowed the extra juice so I could speak to the caller. A guy we call Cornbread caught the humor of the moment and offered me a spit cup and asked for a slab of 'dat jerk meat'. My co-workers and I really get into snack time. Maybe I should say the snacks get into us. When I went to the restroom, I noticed I had pork rind lint (crumbs) on my face and in my hair. Frankie, you would have had a nit picking fit!

Sunday, July 12, 2009

Help! I'm Dating!


I can’t tell just anyone about this, but I think I’m already dating this guy I met last week. He asked me out after the meeting Friday night, and I heard the word “yes” jump out of my mouth before I knew I wanted to say it. This is a mystery, but I already feel like I know this man from somewhere. I can tell what he’s thinking, and he is falling for me as much as I am for him. We sat together in church last Sunday, and my heart beat wildly just being near him. We went out to eat with a group of people from church and he bought my dinner – I guess that makes it a date. Frankie and I took a ride to the lake after dinner, and as we sat on the bench I got this premonition that I am going to marry him. I think I was lead to the church in the office park to meet him for this purpose. HELP! I’m not ready for a relationship, but my poor heart knows no fear; she is willing to jump right into this situation while I’m still mulling over all the reasons why I shouldn’t.

Anyway, he asked me to go hiking with him next Saturday at Carter Mountain in Suwannee, and I said yes. And like I promised you, I’ll stay vertical. Besides you know I never sleep with anyone before I know his credit card number.

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

This man I Met

Surely you've noticed by now (if you have been keeping up with this blog) that the post dates do not coincide with the dates of the original emails. That happens when telling things in past tense.

DATE: April 15, 2000 7:31 PM
SUBJECT: This man I Met

For someone who didn’t want to get back in church I sure surprised myself when I went to a prayer meeting at a lady’s house Saturday night. There was a guy there named Frankie that I absolutely could not keep my eyes off of. This sounds dumb even saying it, but I think we’re supposed to be together. I’m on the rebound and I’m too vulnerable for a relationship. I’m not over the pain of my first marriage, and I don’t want to date. My self-esteem and confidence is zilch right now. Besides that, my divorce is not final. What am I thinking?

I went again today and I cried most of the service because the songs inspired so many memories. Frankie must be attracted to me - he intentionally sat behind me in church this morning. His sweet voice lulled me and stirred all kinds of emotions. I heard at the prayer meeting that he is leading a prayer group on Friday night. I already plan to attend. It’s like I’m watching myself make decisions and it’s not me making them. A current that is stronger than me is pulling me along.

Saturday, July 4, 2009

Church in the Office park

I finally gave in. I woke up Sunday morning knowing that I needed to go to that church in the office park, but I bargained with God that I would only go to hear the music then I’d leave before the preaching began. I refuse to be a captive audience to a man who thinks he has a special deal with God to order other people around. I called to see what time the services started and was told 10:00 a.m. When I got there at 9:55 everyone was milling about, and some were leaving. I thought I was off the hook and was about to leave when I discovered that they were only taking a break. The second half was about to begin - you guessed it - the preaching. I had not set my clock back for Daylight Saving Time and I missed the music. I wanted to bolt, but a nice woman approached me and asked me to sit with her so I complied. I met a lot of nice people. I don’t remember their names. It felt okay to be in that place, but I still don’t feel like I belong in a church.

Thursday, July 2, 2009

Checking it out

Curiosity finally got to me and I took a turn down the road to the office park I mentioned. A lot of businesses there, but nothing I felt drawn to until I neared the back of the office park and saw a warehouse that was being used as a meeting place for a church. “No, not church!” I whined when I saw it. “You know I hate organized religion, Lord. I’ve been hurt too many times by religious people, and I don’t want to go to any church, much less one in a warehouse.”

I’m not going to see any peace until I visit this place. What’s going on here?