Friday, September 29, 2006

Dream #2 (This one is crazy!)

The dream I had last night is one that I've had similar in the past:

I had a dream that we lived down south by a really large lake. It was a holiday, not quite sure which one and we had to wait until it got dark to go see the fireworks on the lake. We went to a different part of the lake where a large bridge ran across the lake. It was old and rickety and I was worried I wouldn't be able to stay on the bridge. I was holding my son when we got halfway across the bridge and noticed many people in the lake. All of a sudden, the bridge started to wobble and we both fell in the lake. I sunk like a rock and I looked up through the water and saw babies swimming through the murky water. I made it to the top and looked around for my son. I noticed that the people in the lake were standing only knee deep in the water and I couldn't figure out why I went down about 15 feet.

When I finally made it to the shore, I asked some people if they saw where my son went. They told me that he and the rest of my family were in a shack somewhere in the woods. It was like a scene from deliverance. I found a run down shack and knocked on the door. There was an elderly black woman roaming around the house and she was blind. I pushed her out of the way and a young black girl emerged and asked if she could help. I told her I was looking for my family. She took me to a cellar door and opened it up and said "They are down there". I peered in the bottom of the room and saw old pillows, dust, dirt and debris all around but no family. I told her to go down there and get them. She told me I should go down there and give them some food. I felt like I was being negotiated. I then asked her when the last time it was that she fed them. "Only a little bit yesterday. . .the slower the better. . . then I can watch them die". I threw her cat down there and closed the door. I thought he would be a good experiment to see if my family was alive or not. It's paws stuck out of the door like it was trying to get out. Instead I took it's paws and broke both of them in 3 different spots. At first they didn't break as I heard no noise but eventually I heard that dreadful cracking noise and knew I had accomplished the job. I knew then that I had to take care of myself. I knew that I had to leave, go somewhere other than this awful place.

I ran from the shack and jumped about 4 fences. I came across an Amish home with just a couple living in it. I ran in and told them to lock all the doors and windows; that little black girl was coming for me and I was ready to rip her apart. Sure enough, a knock came at the door and this time she was white with pig-tails and a brown girl scout uniform on. She came selling insurance. I poked my head out of the door and she slowly made her way into the house while the couple stood at the other end of the house confused yet smiling. I put both hands in her mouth to try to choke her but it didn't work. So I pried her jaw backwards until I heard a cracking sound. Her whole jaw had been destroyed like a hinge that has been pushed too far. I shoved the roll of Kodak film that she had dropped on the floor down her throat and ran as she stood there with her mouth wide open.

I didn't know where I was going and soon woke up with my head full of confusion. Why did I dream such a weird and violent dream?

Thursday, September 28, 2006

I Have Such an Ignorant Family!

Duh! Big newsflash people! I was asked in a previous post whether or not I had unresolved issues with my childhood. The answer is yes. I am a grown woman now with a family, a great career and a man who loves me. Why would my family constantly turn a cold shoulder in my direction? Don't know. I think it has something to do with me being outspoken.

I found out in July that my family was preparing for a trip to Iowa to have a party for my great aunt's 90th birthday. Unbeknownst to me, they planned this without inviting me. When I say "they" I am referring to my mother, father and grandma. My grandma used to not be balled up in the "they" category but now she is. My mother let it slip months ago that they were going to Iowa. I stated that I would like to go. Next thing I know there's excuses and rearranging taking place and Issy has created so much conflict!

I went to my aunt and uncle's house this past weekend whom I love dearly. They asked me if I was coming over in October for my aunt's party and we would leave their house and travel to the bed and breakfast. Now my grandma said that she would stay with my aunt who asked her to stay in the first place so there would be a spot for me. This conversation took place a month and a half ago. I told my grandma that I didn't want to inconvenience anyone and if it was too much of a hassle, I just wouldn't go. By then I felt the "vibe" that nobody wanted me to go. Whatever.

Well yesterday I went home early due to a bad cold that I have and came in this morning to find a voice mail from my grandma stating that she wanted me to call. I called her up and she said she spoke with my aunt and uncle and that they had said I was going. Boy was she surprised! Her response to my aunt and uncle was "Oh, she's going?" I was hurt and heartbroken. I know that my family doesn't want me to go or else they would have made more of an effort include me. I know that my aunt and uncle want me to go; they've reassured me on that one.

I told my aunt this morning that I was going to go just to spite everyone. I was going to purposely piss everyone off just because of the way I was treated. Oh and by the way. . .I didn't go to my brother's wedding because my mom didn't want me to go until AFTER the wedding took place. Revenge and Karma go hand in hand in my book and "they" are going to get a good taste of each one by my hand until I'm satisfied.

Wednesday, September 27, 2006

Last Night's Dream

I don't know if it was the half a bottle of Nyquil that I took last night, but last night's dream seemed more pronounced and more detailed than some that I've had in the past.

I had a dream last night that I was at my mother's house and I was told that I couldn't leave. I had to get out of that house. There was too many decisions being made about me that I had no say so in the matter. I was told to sit there and shut up. . . not a likely occurrence to happen for me. So I decided to fight my mother until she let me leave.

I jumped on her back and pulled her hair. When she started to laugh at me, I took all of my weight and body slammed her to the ground in the foyer of her home. I sat on top of her fat stomach and started clawing at her face. All I wanted to do was keep her from looking at me and laughing at me. I knew I needed to get out of the house because my kids were outside waiting for me. My mother shoved me off of her and produced a semi-automatic gun from behind her back and shot me over and over again in the back. I could feel every bullet entering my body and it ached.

I pretended to be dead and laid on the floor face down. There was a button on my back that when pushed turned red meaning that I was deceased. I laid there on the floor and waited for my mother to get into the car and drive away. She seemed happy and acted as though nothing had happened. When I knew she was gone, I pushed the button again which turned green for go. I got up and went to the window where my mother's chiffon curtains and pushed them back to see if she was truly gone so that I could leave. My children were standing side by side smiling. It was okay for me to vacate.

Tuesday, September 26, 2006

Dream #1

I said earlier when I started my site that I was going to use it to get some of the dreams out that I can't figure out. I had this one about a month and a half ago:

I can't remember how it started but there were a few family members that had died. One of them being my adoptive mother. I think my brother was there, alive, too but I couldn't tell if it was my brother or my man.

My mother was shrunk down to the size of a doll. When I was a child, I had a rubber doll that I used to play with before we moved. I often had dreams when I was 3 about the doll sitting in bed and smacking me or punching me in the face. I was terrified of her. In this current dream, my mother looked exactly like the doll. About 2 feet long, made out of that rubbery material, dark brown, curly, short hair and ruby red tiny lips that looked perfect. She was all wrapped up in gauze like a mummy.

She was placed in a cherry wood box that had glass on the top of the lid and on the sides so that you could see her. Then there was a small drawer that came out of the box for loved ones to place keepsakes that would go with her to the "other side". A voice from nowhere said "put your things in the box and when we vacuum pack her, the items will become deformed but will go back to their original state after some time". This voice said it as though we were customer #500 and had been doing it for years.

All of a sudden, the vacuuming took place and the gauze started to bind tightly around my mother. I then looked at my trinkets and noticed that they were becoming warped and realized that I didn't want to put what I had in with my mother. . . .

Then I woke up.

Monday, September 25, 2006

Ah. . .Tartaric Acid. . .

If you are ever in the St. Louis area or drive past Mt. Vernon, do not go here! We had the great displeasure of visiting this winery. To make a long story short, here is the email that I sent to them:

To whom it may concern,

My family and I came to Rend lake this year to partake in the Annual Art and Wine festival at Rend Lake. However, it was canceled on Saturday due to in climate weather. We understood that for everyone’s safety that was the best move and can respect that. However, we chose to go to your winery which was 25 miles out of our way so that we would be able to partake in the wine experience that your winery had to offer. As you can tell by my footnoted signature below, I drove a long distance to enjoy myself. We sampled 4 wines after waiting about 20 minutes and I hurried up and made my choice which was the Vignoles; purchased 2 bottles unchilled and one chilled for us to enjoy on your deck with cheese and crackers. Halfway through the bottle, I noticed something at the bottom of the bottle that resembled a submerged Cheerio with flecks of the said “Cheerio” floating around the bottom of the bottle. I took the unfinished bottle back inside and asked if that was part of the cork or what was it. I was told rudely by the woman behind the counter that it was tartaric acid and that it does not hurt the wine or the person drinking it. I then asked her what it was in there for (as I have never seen that before) and she raised her voice even further and stated the same again which didn’t answer my question. I have taken many wine classes from some of the best solemner in the country. I have gone to many festivals and tasted wines worldwide. I have heard of tartaric acid but never witnessed it. I now have two bottles at my home that I don’t want to drink and will not be able to serve to guests nor give it away as a gift due to its aesthetically displeasing nature. Part of wine is the presentation and I’m sorry but a partially disintigrated foreign object at the bottom of your wine bottle is not an appropriate presentation. What’s more, if there is something in your wine that I can see that makes me question what has happened during the process, what about the things that I can’t see. You really need to reevaluate what your customer base sees before you put it on the shelf. In the future, I will no longer be purchasing your wine and neither will my family. I was not ashamed to tell people that I had a bad experience with your winery


I know this is a long email but a point needed to be made. . . customer service is lacking in all points! I say band together and boycott this winery!

Thursday, September 21, 2006

My biggest downfall. . . grapes


Because my greatest down fall is wine which is made from grapes, this in an ode to the delectible fruit.

Wine has forced me to actually go to classes and learn all about how many factors go into wine. Don't ask me or tell me about what makes a wine dry or sweet. Don't act as if you know the difference between barrel aging and galvanized steel processing. On all of these points, I have been schooled!

Wine has brought my best friend and I closer together and found a new hobby that we BOTH enjoy. We love going to festivals and we love trying new wines. Both of us knows what the other one likes so it's easy to argue with a local vendor as to what said friend does or doesn't like.

Wine has made me some serious friends and the life of the party! Wine is one of those tasty beverages that makes me happy and friendly without a care in the world!

Wine has wonderful medicinal purposes. Have a weak heart? Drink a glass of red each night for better heart health.

Wine has been the bandaid on many a quarrel with the old hubby. He enjoys wine too and will reconcile a battle between the two of us with a nice glass of white.

Last but not least, wine is innexpensive! I can take a hundred dollars with me on a festival and come back with at least 13 bottles of wine. Wine litterally allows me to squeeze Lincoln's head right off the coin!

"Ode to wine. . . where would I be without you? Bored!"

What a Crab!

Lord I am crabby today! I don't know why either. I usually get really testy right before my cycle (sorry boys). But for some reason today I am off kilter. I hadn't even made it halfway through the office when someone yelled across the office "the lock on the door is broke. You need to get it fixed". Hadn't even clocked in, sat down and thought about what I needed to get done before my trip. Next, my receptionist bolts. Doesn't even tell me just gets up to leave. Aha! That's why I've been bitching about answering the phones. Stupid rag.

Today's lesson boys and girls has to do with taking responsibility for your actions. I know that many have lost sight to that. Its so much easier to point a finger and pretend that you have no mark to be left on this God forsaken planet. It's always some other schmuck's fault. I on the other hand am too busy fucking up, trying to live my life, take care of my family and hold down a decent career to scheme up who did me wrong or who I thought went out of their way to make my job harder. I have perpetually had people in my life be it acquaintances or close individuals who insist on pointing the finger. Maybe that's what makes me so crabby. Maybe it's a full moon and even it's doing its damnest to blame me for something.

Okay. This is my confessional or as I would like to call it my finest hour of humility. Try this sometime; I find it to be quite liberating:

  • Even though I was driving like a maniac to get to a friends house, the guy that tried to side-swipe my car had every right to be pissed at me as I was flipping him off with BOTH fingers.
  • Even though I worked for half an hour on a project yesterday, it's more fun for me to blame the dick who completely redid it just because I am insecure with how well I perform at work.
  • Even though I work with a bunch of lazy, useless excrements, I could spend more time just ignoring them than feeding their lackadaisical ways.
  • Even though my boss accuses my emotions of being like a roller coaster, he needs to take the ever-loving Prosac just to keep an even keel demeanor.

When you admit your role in society and are honest about it, it feels good to know that you don't wear a crown and screw up and go out of your way to make another person's life a little harder. I like to call this my own form of karma.

Wednesday, September 20, 2006

A Job Well Done?

I am an administrative assistant and office manager of about 34 people. I had a co-worker of mine leave a few weeks ago to work at the new office that we just opened up about 25 miles away. Due to her leaving, I have another co-worker that is taking over her space. My supervisor suggested that he move there. His title is Business development and Market Manager. I would tend to disagree with his title though. I have often threatened to bring in a dress or skirt out of my wardrobe just for him. The man does what I should be doing and he is so far up my boss's ass that if asked, said co-worker could tell you what the supervisor had for lunch the day before.

I was asked to work on a roster of our division for a client that we had open house for a few weeks ago. The client is high profile and has gobbs of money to spend. Yay for us. However, my boss wants me to work on the roster and then send out 15-20 emails to each client thanking them for coming to see us with the roster attached. Then he wanted an org chart to be developed for the project which said brown-nosing co-worker could do as he has a special program that can do it. Funny thing is that I have the same program and know how to use it. When I spent time with my boss, he revised the letter to state org chart and no roster. There goes my work down the toilet! Half an hour wasted. However, he did ask me to send the letters out today with the org chart on them.

Next thing I know, co-worker asks for the roster even though it isn't going with the letter. Slowly a three step project has been taken away from me and given to the Business Development and Market Manager. If he sends the stuff back to me and tells me to do it, I'm just going to forward the letter to him and tell him to do it. That's bullshit! My boss has never had enough faith in me to get a job that HE thinks has substance done. I run the financials, I pay the bills, I deal with clients, I just don't understand why he won't challenge me.

You will not see me writing a lot about my job as it is boring and full of a lot of drama. I am one of 2 women in an office of 34 and it is an uphill battle everyday. I would survive a lot easier if I had a shaft and set of balls to go with it. I've told many of my guys that I have more of a penis than they do and most of them agree.

Monday, September 18, 2006

Welcome to the land of poop and pee!

Who thinks this shit would work? I have a boy (which I heard are way harder to train than girls and I whole heartedly agree!) and we have been trying to get him trained for the past 6 months! It has been difficult not only on him but on us as well. There are so many pressures associated with potty training. Can't go to school unless he pees in the pot, can't take him out in public if he's training because then he wants to check out EVERY potty that has ever been made, people that know you want to know what your doing wrong because it only took their kid a week to learn how to shit on the crapper! Arrrrgh! It's just not fair! And on top of it, the potty training rewards crap is a load of bunk! If my kid doesn't want to pee in the pot, no amount of reward will suffice. The reward system mentioned in said link above suggests that it would be a good idea to fill the reward system with candy. That's all I need is a hyper kid who is overstimulated with way too much sugar who may or may not hit the comode. Oh he'd be a great tool for the volunteer fire department!

Now my ex husband's grandmother told me a tale of how they taught him to go to the bathroom like a big boy. She took him to the laundrymat and told him to pee in the coffee can by the wall. Granny turned around and started on some clothes. When she turned back around, ex-jack-off was peeing up the wall! Seems as though a bug had found it's way into the can and ex was determined to take him out with a steady stream! After hearing that story, I think I will use a safer method of training. . . .staying at home and having a major amount of "big-boy pants" on hand. So far so good. We have made awesome progress for the past week!

Sorry ya'll, had to vent! Potty training is tiresome!

Homecoming and Why I Know What Flavor My Shoes Are

Over the weekend my best friend and I rented a '06 Charger and took my 15 year old to her first formal. . . Homecoming. Her date was a doll. Not your typical clean cut jock. No my kid takes after her aunt's heart. B told me in the car that he was the type she would have gone after when she was in high school. I just wanted the kid to like me.

Well as fate would have it with being nervous and all, I made some of the most inappropriate comments known to man. For example, when we picked the date up, he introduced us to his "animals" which consisted of one very old poodle and an old cat as well. When I saw the cat, my dumb ass makes the comment of "oh! That looks just like the dead one that I saw in the road this past week!" Good grief! Was that uncomfortable! Everyone got quiet and I didn't know what to say. Way to start off on the right foot you idiot! Well as the night went on, I made another social faux pau. I had to start talking about my neighbor that was murdered years ago. Thank God that my friend kept me in check or else there's no telling what else would have come from my awful mouth!

We dropped the kids off at Red Lobster and then got lost. Went shopping then went on to get some much needed cocktails. We were at the bar when more homecoming guests left the restaurant we were at. One girl in particular struck BOTH of our attention. She was "thick" or as most would put it, extremely plump. She had on a black top that was short sleeved and it had every sequin known to man. The skirt was a chiffon material that was cocktail length and had a hankerchief hem. Skirt would have been fine but I think she had it twisted wrong. The sides were long and short in the front and back. We both couldn't help it. This outfit was all wrong. And don't get me started on those poor heels she was wearing! They were screaming "help me!"

Later we picked them up and dropped them off at the dance. Mind you, I was having such a fabulous time driving around in a car that is a definite attention getter and having a best friend that is a looker makes even more fun that it sounds. The car was absolutely beautiful. I am definitely getting one even if it kills me.

After going to another restaurant (we had 3 hours to kill) we picked them up at the dance and drove the date home. I turned the lights off and waited trying not to sneak a peek at my little girl growing up. A few moments later she bounded into the car and exclaimed "God mom, you could have drove around the block or something!" Even after all my efforts to be a hip mom to my daughter, I still haven't figured out what to do!

Friday, September 15, 2006

"And in Today's News, These are the St. Louis Highways to Avoid. . . "

AVOID ALL OF THEM!!!!!!!!!! If you have to visit St. Louis, fly to all of your destinations. Don't take matters into your own hands, or even worse, call a cab. Let's face it, St. Louis drivers are the worst! We don't pay attention, our cars didn't come with ANY type of signal apparatus except the use of the driver's middle finger, we run people off the road, we drive too fast and half the time we are doing 5 other things in the care BESIDES drive. How hard is it to put at least one hand on the round thing in front of you and use the gas (on the far right) and the brake (to the left of said gas pedal) and God forbid you have a stick!

My commute this morning:

7:20a - Driving down a country highway to take my kid to daycare. Two very spacious lanes, speed limit is 65. I am unfortunately behind an SUV (huge pet peeve of mine as I have a car that sits low to the ground and like to see what's coming next) All of a sudden, SUV locks up the brakes and swerves! Is there a person in the road? Is there metal in the road that could cause a flat and cause a serious accident? No. There's a dead cat in the road! Was the dumb bitch trying NOT to kill it a second time? I'm sorry but a dead cat is not worth causing thousands of dollars worth of damage to my already crappy vehicle not to mention, causing bodily harm to myself and my child.

7:45 - On my way to work with 5 to 6 lanes of traffic. A gold Intrepid is in front of me and wobbling in the lane like a drunkard. It's 7:45 in the morning! Too early for that crap! What is she doing? Brushing her hair! Next thing I know, she wants to change lanes. . .no blinker, just a casual careening over into the lane. Why? Said rag is on the phone. By now I am pissed because why do I have to watch out for somebody who didn't allow enough time to get ready and take care of their business before they left the house? I thought to myself "the only thing this bitch hasn't done is put on make-up". I should have shut my mouth. She was behind me when I reached the heart of downtown. Now at this point of the commute, you have to really pay attention because the highway forks off into 3 different directions and us St. Louis freaks can't make up our minds as to where we would like to go. So my lane of traffic is slowing down to a stop and what do you know? Said dumb ass eats half of her lipstick because she wasn't paying attention to the stopped cars in front of her! Now that was worth it in itself after all of the hell I had to go through on my drive. God did she look garish with a big old red streak running jaggedly up the right side of her cheek almost into her eye! God how funny!

Luckily I made it 10 minutes late but God I would have loved to have been an hour late if that bitch would have hit me! Everyone that knows me knows that I need a new car!

Thursday, September 14, 2006

I CAME OUT OF THE CLOSET!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Hey! Check me out! I finally figured out how all of the bells and whistles work on this damn thing! Watch out. . . we don't know what could come next!

Music Stereotypes

Music is a big part of my life. I have a 34 mile commute one way each day and the only thing keeping me company is my stereo that hubby bought me for my 30th birthday. The thing is smokin! I have a junky Saturn and 95% of the trunk is filled with the sub. Now because hubby is 10 years younger than me (we'll save that topic for another entry at a later date) my musical tastes have changed drastically. I mostly listen to Eminem, Snoop, Outkast, Ying-Yang Twins so on and so forth. Believe me, my appearance doesn't suggest that I listen to such hoodlum choices. To look at me you would think I listen to Brittney Spears or some horrid, gut wrenching crap like that.

When my mate and I met, we both LOVED Metallica. That was one of the reasons why we fell in love with each other. We went to their concerts together. I bought shirts for him with their logo on it. Then he introduced me to Snoop and I fell in love immediately. About 3 years ago, I went to a concert with my best friend and had a time that I will never forget. We both dressed in next to nothing. Drank 5 of everything and got soaking wet from the torrential downpour that came just before Snoop got there. Then there was the wonderful individuals that were throwing beer on us behind us. Should we not have been there? Did we not fit in? What could have warranted such a heinous crime such as THROWING beer instead of drinking it?!?! I was absolutely appalled! But both of us were so wasted and having such a good time that we couldn't let such schmucks ruin our good time. (By the way, I found out the other day that the term "schmuck" is a Yiddish term meaning the tissue that is left over after a circumcision. Just to broaden your vocabulary)

Now hubby and I have a great friend of ours that I will call stumpy as he has short little legs. Stumpy has an eclectic taste of nothing but rap and a short fuse to go along with it. Hubby asked him to make a CD of some of his faves and let me borrow a copy. Some of the songs are absolutely obnoxious! If you want to get the attention of any male while driving, listen to a song about a guy who says "come on girl, try to get your pussy wet". Believe me, they'll wonder what you do for a living! But most people who know me know that I do a lot (or used to at least) of things just for shock value.

Now girlfriend is a little more toned down than I am but I'm in the process of converting her into a nasty little girl such as myself. After all, there IS strength in numbers!

Monday, September 11, 2006

Scenes from a Bar

Over the weekend I had a few baby showers to go to and a 4 year old birthday party to take my son to. All were normal EXCEPT for one of the showers. It was held at the local hole in the wall bar. Now I ask you, how white trash, hoosier is that? Because my son's party was last and we have no sitter available, all family members were in tow.

Now let me tell you something, a bar is no place for a 3 year old. It was way confusing for the patrons as well. Just imagine, you are wanting to go relax at your favorite dive with the same nasty mug that may or may not have the local whore's lipstick on the rim. You walk in, and low and behold, there are a bunch of women sitting around with punch and crumpets along with a 3 year old running around. . . who the hell can relax? Who would want to? No, I do say this, on behalf of the bar, it might be a good marketing scheme as I would personally drink more knowing that I would need the extra alcohol to cover up reality. However, I watched my son like a hawk because I know how the town drunk can get. I didn't want my son being himself which is to say that he can and will be a holy terror and I didn't want the bar flies to get irritated. Next thing I know said brat is crawling around on top of the pool tables! Arrg! Time for mommy to go to the bar and partake in stiff one!

It doesn't help that every form of sugar was on the tables, lollipops, jelly beans, mints you name it. And since there wasn't much for the young tot to do, lots of candy went into said mouth to keep him occupied. Bad move on our part. Eight lollipops later, we found out we had made the wrong choice. We found out that eight lollipops warrants the behavior of a certain three year old to crawl like a dog on pool tables and throw cue balls across the bar. At one point in time I threatened his father and told him to start dipping his lollipops into his beer. That would at least slow him down!

Tuesday, September 05, 2006

Tidbits from the Past

When Steve died, the more I thought about it, the more I felt that I had to write something that reflected how much his life had impacted mine and the people's around me. I shared about how he had helped to fix my car, played with my son, argued with his wife, discussed politics with his dad. . . . the list goes on. But there was one part that I forgot; not meaning to.

I received a call on my way down to help a friend of mine from work who's house had been completely destroyed by a tornado. Halfway there, my mother's boyfriend called and said that my mom was really sick with cancer and was in a coma. I was devastated and didn't know what to think or how to act. All I could do was cry. I made it to my friend's house and worked until I could work no more. I was supposed to go to my family's house for my aunt's birthday but I called and told them that I wouldn't be able to make it.

Just for a brief history. . . I was adopted. The mother in the coma was the birth mother that I had just found a year and a half previously so I hadn't known her for that long. She lives in CO and my adoptive family lives here where I do.

I got home and couldn't make any decisions on my own. Finally, M told me to just go before it was too late. So my mother-in-law started making phone calls to get prices on airfare. Everything we found was $700 or more. It was hopeless. It seemed as though I wouldn't be able to afford to go. Steve suggested asking for bereavement fares. Turned out that it was $321 for the round trip.

Had Steve not suggested that type of fare, I wouldn't have had the opportunity to see my mom one last time before they took her away. I ran into ice storms and delays and all kinds of nonsense. I was so late on arriving but the weird thing is that by the time I reached a phone and called the hospital, they told me she had just passed. It was like she waited to make sure I made it there okay.

Thanks Steve. Make sure mom isn't hoggin the Harley!