Tit for Tat? ........... by Diane Ogden

 I am not sure what tit for tat means but it came flying into my head when I was thinking of a title for this post. 
Yesterday morning, Saturday, I awoke at 3 a.m. to reach for my sassy new Samsung Smarter than I am Galaxy II phone on the bedside table.  Not there?  I got up, walked, well staggered to the l.r. where I had left it plugged in.  It was now on the floor.  I retrieved it, turned it on to find a black screen.  The all feared black and or blue screen!  This is why I carry insurance on screens.  I was at US Cellular when it opened at 9 a.m.  only to find out the cat must have knocked it off the table and cracked the new screen.  They said, "$100 please maam!"  I said, (I cant tell you what I was thinking cause it is really bad words)!  I just bought it $300 plus 6 weeks ago.....  I haven't even rec'd the $100 rebate which is now a wash.   Anger along with gratefulness that I even had $100 came rushing into my full being.  I wanted to buy myself something this week.  Anything.  So I loosed the anger and set off shopping without any forethought whatsoever.  I don't suggest this by the way.  I found my brains scattering all about TJ Maxx.   I wanted new chairs, new bedding, new jewelry, (what for?) shoes, purses, LOL my brain went into overdrive.  So I left the building and bought a sandwich at Milio's...scarfed that down because the overdrive brain is connected to my mouth..... hoping no one was looking then went back to TJMaxx and bought a new lamp.  A necklace, some amazing, wonderful, scrumptious going to go get more Apricot sugar scrub!  I felt like a new woman after that scrub this morning.  And check out my new unnecessary mirrored needs to be dusted often jewel box and Oleg Cassini (who cares) crystal perfume containers.  I have a large jewel box but decided to keep the good stuff in this one so whoever breaks in can find it right away you see.  duh.
Am I happy?  Damn right I am.  I titted for tat.  I was irresponsible for a change.  God that felt good.  Hey, I could have jaunted down to the corner bar and did bad things there hello!  I rather hit TJMaxx and had a blast.  Now its off to the grocery store to fight all the Sunday go to church folks mixed in with the food stamp folks (its the 15th, I should know better then to go today!)
So until tomorrow or the next day, Be Happy, Be Well, Be Safe so you can shop, and for "crying out loud," get rich so you don't have to tit for tat whatever that means.... 

Generational Twins?..............by Diane Ogden

I did not say gestational twins, I said, generational twins.  That is my Great Grandmother Luella Kline Baker Anderson.  And that is mwah on the right.   I must find a hat like that and then take the picture again.  How fun is this. And I thought Steven Tyler was my twin sister from a previous life.  I still think he is something kin to me from afar.
I don't know much about her.  Her father gave her into marriage when she was around 13.  She had three children, was married three times.  I have been married three times.  She cleaned houses for a living and kept a neat diary of her money exchanges.  I clean houses for a living and keep a neat diary of money exchanges also.  (I was an insurance sales for many years until I had the last child, 22 years ago)  We have similarities in many areas.  I wish I knew more about her.  She lived in Rockford, Illinois.
This isn't a funny story.  It won't add to your life.  But it did add to mine, so I posted it for me.
Be safe, be happy, be well, and get rich so you can hire genealogists to find out about your generational background (twin?)

The Little Bottle of Chevis Regal...... by Diane Ogden

This is a sample bottle of Chevas Regal.  Sounds more like the name of a dog breed but it is not. It is rather the name of a fine Scotch Whiskey which I enjoy.   One evening back in 1999 I was home after a long days work, children (five of them), foster children, two of them were close to sleeping.....   I felt the urge to have a glass of Chevas Regal.  But none was to be found. So I called my Dad and asked him if he would mind driving to town  and getting me a small sample bottle of Chevas.  And so he did!  He wasn't always an attentive father in my younger years, not saying he refused to get me  Chevas when I was younger of course not, just saying he was always busy.  So in my later years he tried in many ways to make up for his errors in fatherhood.  He ran errands, he went to the Grands school functions, he took them on hayrides around town, he brought me bales of hay and corn stalks every year for my Autumn Yard display, he held my daughter while she threw up blood all the way to the emergency room while keeping me calm also, he set me up a little red tool box with all the essentials I might need at my house, he re-wired lamps, he painted dollhouses, he taught me the different types of moons and what they mean, he taught me to be calm, to laugh, to not need so much.  He taught me to sit and listen, not talk so much.  He built me a fence.  He gave me a car. He gave my son his beloved truck when he found out he was going to die, because that was the only Grandchild he had left that needed something.  So now he could go in peace knowing we were all okay.  He died a couple weeks ago.  So tonight I got the little empty bottle of Chevis Regal out of the freezer where it resides and I filled it.  And I drank it.  Twice. You see I know to only have one or two because anything more than two is trouble.  More than two cats is trouble, more than two dogs is trouble, more than two cars, more than two mothers is yikes, more than two fathers means omg, more than two jobs, more than two husbands, more than two boyfriends, more than two children, more than two anything is trouble!! And its true that anything that happens after 2 a.m. is trouble.  So I remember that and never have more than two sample shots of Chevis Regal.  The label is worn off as the years have passed.  But then we all wear down as the years pass.  I will forever keep my little bottle of sample Chevis that my Dad left his warm house, drove his truck to town, went to the store and brought me an unnecessary little bottle of relief from a long day.  I am not sure I did as much for him as he did for me. Everyone loved him.  We should all be so lucky. 
So until I can find something funny in this crazy life, be well, be happy, be safe, and whether you get rich or not.... be still and listen.  (Be rich it's fun so go for it!)

Dancing With "My" Mop........by Diane Ogden

http://upchucky.org/      Music Time Machine

I received an email from a friend today.  It said, "This is a keeper!"  Then I saw a graph filled with 60 squares of years.   Which ever year I clicked on entertained me with the top 20 songs of that year.  Wow, I wish I had thought of that.  Instead I danced with my mop and I mean I danced.  If I could have figured out how to video myself you would at this point in time be laying on the floor LYAO,  (Laughing your ass off) (from my YouTube video, "How to Dance With Your Mop!".) My favorite year so far was 1961.  The mop really went nuts on that one.  Then in 1964 the mop became a microphone as well as a partner.  Eeww....forget that comment.  Maybe I will listen to some 1944 Bing Crosby and maybe I will get weird and dress my mop in a shirt and tie.  LOL   Hey, after reading The 50 Shades of Grey...S H U T  U P!!  Anything is acceptable.  Even dressing mops and dancing with them.  Hell even using them for a partner is on a lighter note then the shades of grey book one.   No I am not that weird thank god. And dancing with my mop was as delightful and most of all fun as was the music.   Hey, its not a pole, it's  a mop! I have been know to dance with my $900 Hand Carved  Bed Posts that was shipped to me from Europe. You must check out the site upchucky.com Time Music Machine. Especially if you have a bed post or a mop.  Husbands don't usually "get it", so use your mop!

Tangaa House in Singapore........by Diane Ogden

So my Granddaughter and I were messing around on the computer today.  She asked me how to change the background on my google gmail account.  I dunno how!  So I went to attempting to figure it out considering I am very tired of the green grass background scene I have experienced this past year or more.  While I am trying to find the setting for the backgrounds (which I never found, meaning I will be living with the green grass much longer) I discovered people on my circles whatever that is.  Then I found this photo on someones circle mail to me, again, whatever that circle thing is anyway.  Look at this house. Holy Cow!  That is a glass wall surrounding the pool in the underground den.  It absolutely amazed me.  I sound like a "Hick" which I am not..... but obviously sheltered from the rich and famous. 

That is when we  decided to get back to normal living. We garage-saled for a couple hours....purchased a Holister sweatshirt (Its 105 degrees outside) for $3.00...originally $50. God I love a deal.  Even tho I always get the ass end of deals from men, children, and or animals.  We found a crock pot for funeral cooking for $1.  We found rocks from a collection for .25 cents.  Oh and I got a Pink Columbia coat for $3.50.  God I love Pink.  And I like garage sales.  Not that I wouldn't like that pool.  Not so sure about looking at that wall of water considering I don't like water.  So, until next time be well, be happy, be safe, and get rich so you can buy new Holister sweatshirts, and new crock pots, and new Columbia coats, and a POOL above or underground.  Actually I can, but it's more fun to find a deal. Maybe not the pool...

From Peyton Place to 50 Shades of Grey.........by Diane Ogden

How did we get here?  I was in Jr. High when parents were hiding Peyton Place under sofa's and I was finding it and reading while they were gone.  It consisted of illegitimate children which is an everyday occurrence in 2012.  It consisted of incest they couldn't call incest as it was taboo to even use the word.  It consisted of abortion and adultery whereas now Politicians and President elects engage in and get caught all the time.  People picket abortion clinics all over the country.  And so on....  all the way to 50 Shades of Grey.  1956 -2012.  Shades used to be considered PORNO!  Now its a personal decision whether to use whips, chains, and handcuffs.... or not.  No wonder the Muslims want to blow us up.  Jeeezz.  The kids use the acronym TMI.  Ya think?   Too much information.  Nothing is behind closed doors anymore.  All doors are open everywhere.  And for some doors to be open this could be dangerous for the world. Actually it was dangerous for me to be listening to 30 or 50 Shades while driving home on the Interstate today.   Wow big major deduction huh?   Like whoever reads this doesn't know it already.  So what's my point.  I don't know.  I just know I am on part II of 50 Shades of Greys Perverted Sex.  The whole book so far is detailed sex beyond detailed sex. And I now know what "after effing hair" looks like.  That book is the post graduate version of Pretty Woman so far.  Rich hot guy billionaire finds virgin girl and wants to teach her how to be his submissive in the detailed red room of pain.  Aawhh, God must be flippin the tables in the temples....or he is just letting the human race devour itself.  Will I stop listening to the book.  Hell no!
It's damn good sex so far.  Haven't gotten to the sick stuff yet.  I'll make the call then...or I wont.  It's a best seller, imagine that?  And I just learned to download the Audio book app on my Samsung Galaxy II.  And I paid for it.  Does that remind you of my mother who eats all the food she orders because it costs money.  Isn't that a hoot? 
So until I find something funny or interesting, be well, be happy, be safe, and get rich so you can buy 50 Shades of Grey and either be disgusted or in shock or in lust.  Whatever, all doors are open. Sadly so. 

I Think I Used to be Greek! ..................by Diane Ogden

See what I mean?  As the years have passed I realize I used to be Greek.  Yup must have lived before and I think my name was Venus.  Well come on, look at the resemblance.  Except for the pointing upwards duo that is.  I was taking a shower this evening and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and said, "OMG, I look like those women in the old fashioned portraits from Europe.  The ones with the voluptuous naked bodies.  Ah, Yawh I said voluptuous. And the only diff I see is they are always laying around on what appears to be tarps (linen bedding) and I am like never laying around naked on anything and always on the run working, writing, eating, driving, taking the dog out, or cleaning the dog poop up in.  Get it, in / out!  Yes she misses on occasion.  Back to my point.  What is my point?   That women used to be voluptuous and then went twiggy and I haven't caught up with Twiggy yet.  Not only that but women's feet have become much bigger through the century's...... and their brains ??  Hopefully both.   Did you ever notice how men's bodies stay the same through every generation and century.  Seriously. Their winkie doesn't get wrapped to make it smaller like the Chinese wrapped women's feet.  Nor do they have to wear a winkie bra, or be judged if their winkie doesn't stand up tall enough, hell there's a pill for that one! I want a pill to make my boobies stand up for 4 hours and then I would go to E.R. if they didn't go back down. NOT!!   I think evolution can hear men's  thoughts.  Whatever men think and or say is.  Sort of like when God said, "Let there be light."  There was.  Then something happened and someone said God is really a woman.  (omg) And the woman messed it all up.  She ate the apple or ate something and here we are!  Paying for all that damn incorrect KARMA.  Oh I am just joshing you.  Or am I, as I lean back and look down at my sweet Greek unacceptable belly.  I could pose for those paintings..... 
Well, be happy like me, be safe like me, and be well like me, and get rich so you can buy one of those cool Greek paintings so you can feel like me!   LOL