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I’m the PTA newsletter editor for Jack’s school (to see my first solo issue, click here then NEWS and on the right OCTOBER 15, 2007 for a PDF viewing).

When “Eats, Shoots and Leaves” came out, I was one of the first to tear it open and read it cover to cover. There is a kid version plus another for kids about the apostrophe, “The Girl’s Like Spaghetti,” which I need to get because my apostrophe usage is beyond weak, at most.

Today I came across a rule on GrammarBook.com that I SWORE was different all these years. When I searched for comma, this is the first rule that came up.

Comma

Rule 1
To avoid confusion, use commas to separate words and word groups with a series of three or more.

Example
My $10 million estate is to be split among my husband, daughter, son, and nephew.

NOTE
Omitting the comma after son would indicate that the son and nephew would have to split one-third of the estate.

However, my thought all these years was that the “and” can act as the comma; e.g. fish, steak and eggs or shirt, pants and shoes. I think that fish, steak, and eggs looks messy with that additional comma.

Since I’m on my soap box, there is another rule that I wish everyone would follow…

Spacing with Punctuation

Rule 1
With a typewriter, you sometimes use one space or two spaces following punctuation. With a computer, use only one space following periods, commas, semicolons, colons, exclamation points, question marks, and quotation marks. With a computer, the space needed after these punctuation marks is proportioned automatically.

Q: Thoughts on my comma theory?

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What’s with hair, anyway? I’m at the in-between stage of what to do with my hair. I think I want to grow it out, because I can always go back to short, and now would be better than when I’m 50 — don’t think I can pull it off then.

So do I sit and wait while it slowly grows or do I keep trimming into a style as it grows so I don’t look like a dork in the interum?

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I ache.

I miss my Utah friends.

I do love my new place,
even though there’s still lots to do.

But I miss my Utah friends.

I ache.

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Through linking a few times, I stumbled across this blog post and found it an interesting read.

I can relate to a lot of the points made about personal space and wonder what your thoughts are (that’s an open invitation to leave a thoughtful comment about your experiences).

Although I haven’t analyzed my boundaries as closely as the writer has, I notice there are some people I rarely touch (some of my absolute best friends), others I can’t seem to get enough of (Cjane, but who DOESN’T want to touch her – she’s like Midas), some I cringe to think they’d touch me “hello” and others (they could be strangers I’ve never met or spoken to before) I kiss on the cheek as a greeting like it’s nothing at all. I am much more affectionate with men than women and kids are welcome to smoosh up to me anytime (hopefully when they’re not sticky or messy, hahaha).

It’s kind of like a cat that rubs itself against people they adore, trying to leave their scent, or is it something else entirely? My mom likes to insist she knows the exact reasons why I turned out the way I did based on my youth but is it as easy as that? My answer is no.

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Hereby, I declare that any request to forward mass emails
to exchange recipes, socks, dish towels, etc. will be met
with a quick press of the DELETE button and no further explanation.

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When it’s chilly, and you can’t get your thermostat to work, ordering room service seems like a good idea (although expensive).

If you have a LUX 1500 thermostat and can’t get it to work, it might be LOCKED (as mine was). Press NEXT three times in a row then press HOLD. Now we are toasty warm (except that the furnace has to run constantly due to the lack of insulation, of course).

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Hi.

I’ve been tagged.

I’ve been tagged by more than one other blogger out there but I’m going to only do this once. I’m pretty much an open book and y’all know everything there is to know anyway. So this might be boring to some of you but hopefully at least ONE person might learn a little sumthin’ sumthin’ about me.

1. I just went over 6 wks without shaving my body hair. Not by choice, well kinda by choice, but because I haven’t unpacked the box that has my 15 razors in them. “You could buy one at the store,” you say. Yes, I could. But, and that’s a BIG but, that’s against my nature. I know I already have 15 brand-new-never-been-used razors on the premise and it’d be a waste of money to buy another before using the ones I already have. Lisa finally brought me a razor and I succumbed to shaving my legs (which feel oooh sooo soft and cuddly now)… but I didn’t shave my underarms. Let’s be honest here, it’s chilly in the NW so I won’t be wearing shirts that unveil that part of myself anyway so what’s the point?

2. Tonight I announced in front of seven others that I “just about” flipped my father-in-law off. Here’s the sitch… we’re all sitting around talking about going on a cruise (I don’t think I’d be a fan and everyone else was trying to convince me otherwise) when the subject turned to me (as it often does because I’m the more controversial of the bunch). They were making fun of my parenting style. My energy level is about a 1 out of 10 today. I’m still getting over the cold and feel really run down (plus I’m a single parent, sort of, still unpacking and plenty other duties). So everytime my kids would act up or run by when they’re supposed to walk, I would lackidazily say (picture Droopy Dog), “Stop it, slow down, cut it out.” Yelling doesn’t do it, whispering doesn’t either so I’ve been demoted to broken record. Then I explained that I was telling them all day to chill out (they just rough house until someone gets hurt) until I crashed into a nap in the middle of the day from exhaustion. My FIL says something like, “Why would YOU be TIRED?” Sometimes I just feel like no words can express how I feel and a lonely finger flailing in the air might do the trick. But, alas, I restrain and instead TELL him, and everyone, that I just about did. I shouldn’t do that… somewhere I’ve lost the DNA that keeps me tactful because I’m pretty sure I don’t have that one. I’m glad I didn’t do it, of course (I’m not THAT bad), because there is no excuse for bad behavior like that (pretty immature, really).

3. I’m a smeller. Memories are triggered by smells. I remember in college I was hanging in the pool hall when I distinctly remember stopping in my tracks by an arcade game and thinking of my girlfriend Annette’s house when we were in the 6th grade. There was a smell to that house no other could simulate. If I walked one step forward or back it would go away. I couldn’t figure out the origin and it wasn’t there again, but for that moment I was little again. I like the smell of men… not just a cologne or body spray (big fan of the manly scents) but also just the fresh way a man smells (not the rotten kind, I’m not gross). Scent of a Man… that should be a movie with Mr. McConaughey.

4. I have HUGE feet. Have always had big un’s but after having kids they grew to a whopping 11! Do you know how HARD it is to find a good looking shoe above a 9? Way! Sometimes I can cram into a 10.5 but really it’s not practicle and an 11 is the only way to go comfortably.

5. After walking into two different cars in one week that looked EXACTLY like mine, I finally succumbed to the art of bumper stickering my car SOLEY for the ease of locating my car in a sea of other black Tahoe-looking rigs (it’s a Denali, but they all look similar). Instead of slapping them on the bumper, I stuck them to the back windshield.

My first is a Happy Bunny one (from Natalie) that says, Hey you made me throw up a little.

Other favorites:
You’d be cooler if you were me
Tact is for people who aren’t witty enough to be sarcastic
It’s better to be hated for who you are than loved for who you are not
I met “The Man” at Dixie’s BBQ, Yeah Baby!
When life gives you lemons, squirt your enemies in the eye
Bikers Against Child Abuse
The last thing i want to do is hurt you, but it’s still on the list
Those who think they know everything annoy those of us who do
I’m not passing judgment, I just think you’re stupid

6. People will often look at me weird when I approach complete strangers in public to compliment something about them. Who DOESN’T like a compliment? Well, really, me. It’s hard for me to TAKE a compliment but I’ve been working on it. So instead I tell people I like their bag, hair or the way they treat their children. A guy was walking into Costco the other day with his baby daughter wiping her cheek and cooing at her when I told him that’s the CUTEST thing seeing a daddy be sweet on his little girl!

7. I like to win. Particularly board games. Video games I can succumb to (unless I’m playing with Ben) but board games get me going if I’m not on a winning streak. Like the time Kim’s hubby fake-beat me in Mexican Trains (dominoes that I LOVELOVELOVE to play anytime, anywhere). I had the best score but someone said the last round was winner take all and he happened to win that round and gloated the next couple days that he beat me. Whatever [tongue sticking out], hairy.

8. I’m a horrible gift receiver. HORRIBLE! I want what I want when I want it. I know that’s not fair to the gift giver, and I’m working on that (notice the number of things I’m working on?), but I figure if everyone knows AHEAD of time then they’re duly warned and know better. Those who don’t though, I have sympathy for because I just can’t fake it. My face doesn’t know how to go Poker-style when I’m given a gift that isn’t useful or absolutely perfect.

So here are the general rules for me… I do NOT like getting: baked goods (unless it’s from Azucar or CJane), bath items (smells are important to me… re-read #3 if you forgot already), candies (I don’t have a huge sweet tooth, except for PayDays, traditional brownies (no frosting) and the corner is my favorite, Macadamia Toffee from VChocolates.com and peanut butter m&m’s (or double ya double ya’s as my daddy calls them and now Piper does too), tee shirts (because I look like an idiot in them unless they’re baby doll style that comes in at the waist with a v-neckline and long in the torso so my muffin top doesn’t hang out) or art work (art is relative and I believe that a piece must SPEAK to you if you’ll be displaying it in your home).

A little “muffin top” for ya…

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