After this entry, there will be nothing you don't know about me.  My soul has been bared for all to see.

76.   I am not afraid to die
77.   I am afraid of how my daughter will handle it when I do die
78.   I am addicted to Hazelnut coffee creamer
79.   My 1st (ex) husband was a perfectionist
80.   I used to rake the living room carpet before he came home from work
81.   My 2nd (ex) husband was a slob
82.   I had to find the living room carpet when I came home from work
83.   When I was in high school, I wanted to go into the medical field
84.   The sight of blood doesn't bother me
85.   The smell of blood does
86.   I once served on a jury and the defendant kept winking at me
87.   We found him guilty anyway
88.   I have a shoe box full of greeting cards so I don't have to buy new ones every time someone has a birthday
89.   There's never one that's appropriate so I buy new ones anyway
90.   My father lived less than a mile away from me when I was a senior in high school and I didn't know it until after I graduated
91.   I had to testify at a trial when I was six years old
92.   The man was convicted of rape and sentenced to twenty-five years
93.   I was scared to death that he would find me when he was released from prison
94.   I changed my last name every time I lived in a new foster home
95.   I haven't changed my last name since my first marriage (much to the chagrin of The Butthead)
96.   I will change it if I ever get married again
97.   Drinking a bottle of perfume was the closest I've ever come to thinking about suicide
98.   I burped 'Lilies of the Field' for a week after wards
99.   I love to travel
100. I hate to fly (have I ever mentioned that before?)

Okay.  That's it. There's nothing more to me.  If there are any questions, please forward them to the publicity department and they will be answered in the order received.

Hang in there ... we're on the downhill side of this thing!

51.   I believe in God
52.   I don't believe in organized religion
53.   I don't believe in hypocrisy
54.   When I was 16, my loving-family-oriented-Mormon-Aunt kicked me out and sent me back to foster care after I told her 12-year old daughter to go to hell
55.   I used to drink almost a full  liter of wine every night
56.   Now I rarely drink at all
57.   Incompetent people irritate the crap out of me
58.   I like to paint and draw
59.   When I was little, I had asthma and was allergic to almost everything
60.   By the time I was five years old, I had spent a total of almost three years in the hospital
61.   I still have asthma
62.   I'd rather eat a bag of salt & pepper potato chips than a Hershey bar
63.   I used to have a dream about a huge house with a double curving stairway that went from the ballroom up to a balcony
64.   A few years ago, my older brother Thom told me it wasn't a dream. The house really did exist
65.   My brother Billy and I used to catch stink bugs and beetles and keep them in a little red wagon
66.   I love thunder and lightening storms
67.   My older sister Micki was afraid of storms and used to hide under the covers
68.   I would pull the covers off of her
69.   She hit me in the mouth with a baseball bat
70.   I am an optimist
71.   I never finished college but in a profile written for a company newsletter, the editor wrote that I had a college degree
72.   I didn't correct him
73.   I was once interviewed for an article in the Palo Alto Times about single life and how to meet other people
74.   The reporter called me Nichole in the article and wrote that I bore a "striking resemblance to Faye Dunaway"
75.   I didn't correct him, either

**Must get more coffee ... brain fluid is running very low**

"100 Things About Me" ... (continued from 8/30/06):

26.   My great-great-grandfather was the last Spanish Governor of California (or so I've been told)
27.   My birth mother was fourth generation Californian
28.   I was born in California also, which makes me 5th generation
29.   My daughter was born (guess where?!) in California which makes her 6th generation
30.   My father wasn't born in California ... he was born in Texas
31.   I met my 1st (ex) husband, my daughter's father, in El Paso, Texas
32.   My 2nd (ex) husband (aka, the Butthead) was born in Texas
33.   The love of my life, who I now live with, grew up in Texas
34.   We moved to Texas in January 2006
35.   I really miss California ... but Texas is okay
36.   I once wrote a play which was performed by my 7th grade drama class three nights in a row
37.   The play was a take-off of the TV show Gilligan's Island 
38.   I played Ginger (hey! I wrote it! I got first choice!)
39.   I hate peanut butter & honey sandwiches
40.   I went to four different high schools
41.   I've never lived in the same place longer than five years (like they say, it's hard to hit a moving target!)
42.   I'm really hoping that trend stops ... now!
43.   Unless I win the lottery, in which case I will move once more. To California.
44.   I once wished a dog would bite my little (foster) sister because she was bugging me
45.   The dog bite her.  On the back of the head.
46.   I've never wished anything like that again
47.   My brother Billy can wiggle his eyes
48.   So can I
49.   I've broken my right arm twice and my left arm once
50.   The worst injuries I've ever had were cracked ribs, a cracked jaw, a concussion and a broken arm ... thanks to a horse

Whew!  This little exercise is more difficult than I thought!  I'll go work on the next twenty-five ... before I loose anymore brain fluid!

I've seen it on numerous blogs ... the "100 Things About Me" ... and I wondered if I could come up with 100 things.  Since my little brain is in need of a workout, I figured I'd give it a shot.  So, over the next couple of days, I'll be listing as many "things" as I can come up with. Starting ... Now:

1.    I'm female (HA! Surprised ya, huh?)
2.    I was born in 1952 (You do the math!)
3.    I'm the youngest of eight children
4.    I lied ... Michael was the youngest but he died at age 2 (so I'm the second to youngest of nine children)
5.    I have never met the oldest sibling (a sister ... Maureen ... wherever she is)
6.    I didn't know I even had one sister until she found me (total surprise! Nobody knew she existed, apparently ... well, except my mother and she wasn't telling)
7.    I was raised in Foster Homes (all eight of us were, actually. Mother-dearest had a slight problem with alcohol)
8.    I love animals (if it has fur or feathers ... I can do without snakes and potato bugs)
9.    I hate potato bugs!
10.  I have a wicked fear of heights!
11.  I once decked my (1st) ex-husband when I was standing on a chair because he came up behind me and started to grab me ... Never, Ever, Touch me when I'm more than three inches off the ground!
12.  I've been married twice
13.  The first time I was 18 years old (and stupid)
14.  The second time I was 39 years old (and stupider)
15.  My birth mother was married nine times (that I know of!)
16.  My sister (Micki) was married seven times
17.  My birth mother and my sister were also divorced as many times as they were married
18.  I've been divorced twice (see a pattern here?)
19.  The first time I was 22 years old
20.  The second time I was 46 years old
21.  The best thing that came out of my first marriage was my daughter
22.  There was nothing good that came out of my second marriage
23.  I was a construction accountant for twenty-five+ years
24.  Even though we weren't raised together, most of my brothers & sisters ended up in either construction or accounting careers (insert creepy music here)
25.  I owned a small restaurant for three years (after the construction career)

Alright, that's enough information for one day.  My brain is starting to leak.

The Monkey is starting school today!

Okay, it's only pre-school, but still. It's a huge step in that age-old process of children growing up and getting older ...

... of becoming their own person.

Michelle never went to pre-school. She went straight from the babysitter to kindergarten, from being almost one-on-one to more than thirty-to-one; She wore a green corduroy jumper and little tiny tennis shoes; She learned how to share, how to add 1+1 and 2+2, how to sing the alphabet; She learned how to tie her own shoes and button her own coat; She learned there was more to life than peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

That first day of school however, as my little girl waddled into the classroom and never looked back, I stood in the hallway and cried my eyes out.

Some things have really changed since then.

Yes, it's only pre-school but there won't be any green corduroy jumpers and little tiny tennis shoes. The Monkey is required to wear a uniform!

There's Velcro instead of shoelaces and buttons.

Basic math begins with 'y+9=15.'

There's also a computer lab.

The Monkey will be thrilled if lunch includes Sushi instead of PB&J.

Somehow, I have a feeling that Dick, Jane and Spot have been replaced with something along the lines of 'War and Peace.'

*Sigh*

As much as things change, some will always remain the same. I have no doubt that The Monkey waddled into that classroom without looking back.

And I have no doubt that her mommy stood in the hallway and cried her eyes out, too.

A teacher is explaining biology to her 4th grade students.

"Human beings are the only animals that stutter," she says.

A little girl raises her hand.

"I had a kitty-cat who stuttered," she volunteered.

The teacher, knowing how precious some of these stories could become, asked the girl to describe the incident.

"Well," she began, "I was in the back yard with my kitty and the rottweiler who lives next door got a running start and before we knew it, he jumped over the fence into our yard!

"That must've been scary!" said the teacher.

"It sure was!" said the little girl. "My kitty went 'Fffff ... Fffff ... Fffff ...'  And before he could say 'F**k',  the rottweiler got him!"

Tom's boss is dying.  We knew that when we moved here, when Tom accepted the position eight months ago. 

"M" has cancer.  A rare form of bone cancer which he's been fighting for several years.  Over the past few months however, it has spread and has now gone into his liver and stomach.

The prospect of one's demise changes a person.  "M" has become a very bitter, very ugly person.  He is miserable at home, with a son who he apparently does not speak to, a daughter who is distant and an extremely angry and bitter wife.

He's miserable at work. He has become paranoid, directing his paranoia and anger at his employees and in the process, alienating everybody around him.  He won't step down as president of the company even though it would be in the best interest of everyone involved.  If he quits, he will die.  Plain and simple.

This type of situation always makes me wonder ... if I knew I had a limited time, if I knew I would no longer be here in six months, what would I change?  What would I do differently?  Would I change my outlook, my attitude on life?

My sense of humor has always managed to get me through the rough spots and death is, in my mind, the roughest spot you'll ever be in.  Could I laugh my way through that?

Or would I become more serious?  Would I become angry and bitter and push every body I know away from me?  Would I stop laughing and spend my days in misery and loneliness?

Yeah, right ... just shoot me now, Okay?

The list is done!  Well, almost.  The majority of it anyway.

Nothing exciting happened.  No breaking news, no adventurous tales of exploration or wonder, not even an ounce of mystery.

The most eye-opening chore I had was taking both the dog and cat to the vet at the same time.  The eye-opener was to not do that again. Having an over-eager, one-year-old Labrador-retriever mix on a leash while hauling a pet carrier with a thirteen pound cat inside, is not the recommended way to visit a vet.

I did get a chance to put together a few of the favorite lines I've heard spoken recently by people I know, such as:

From my SIL, watching his daughter bounce off the walls just before bedtime:
"Wow, that's worse than in my own head!"

From sister-friend's daughter regarding nephew's hospital stay:
"I guess the longer he survives, the better his chances are."

From The Monkey:
"When I grow up, I wanna be a dinosaur."

That's the best I can come up with today.  Like I said, nothing new and exciting happened.

Oh, but I did take ~JM~'s advice and sit on top of the washing machine during the spin cycle when I washed the pool towels!

My list of things to get done seems to be going the wrong way.

Instead of becoming shorter, it's growing.  And so far, there are very few lines that have been crossed off of the list.

I don't live an exciting, fun-filled, adventurous or busy life.  No, my lifestyle is fairly unremarkable. Boring, even. 

I have no workplace to complain about. 

My social life consists of grocery shopping, dry cleaners and shooting ranges.

My constant companions are a dog and a cat. Neither of who pay the least bit of attention when I try to talk to them.  And I'm not going to learn their language so they understand.  That's their responsibility. To learn English.

I have always had a tendency to procrastinate and given the opportunity to do something I enjoy versus something I need to do, I choose enjoyment nine times out of ten. 

Which means screwing around on the computer instead of crossing lines off of that "To Do" list.  Which, as I mentioned, is growing.

So ... with that in mind ... I will be taking a short sabbatical from the computer.  I am going to force myself to avoid any and all games.

I will not be checking my blog, or anybody else's blog, twenty-five times a day.

I won't even be posting for a few days.  Not because I don't want to. No, it's because I have nothing exciting or interesting to write about.

I'm hoping that as I get my list completed, something will happen that will spark my imagination or at the very least, provide an amusing or interesting story.

Though I'm somewhat skeptical ... how interesting can a wash load of dirty pool towels be?

Driving to the airport this morning two hours prior to flight time, we started talking about the old days of air travel.

There was a time before electronic tickets and terrorists; a time that often meant running from the ticket counter to the gate; a time of commercials showing a once famous football player running through the airport much like he ran on the field; a time when there really was a smoking section on every flight, whether the travel time was 45 minutes or 15 hours; and a time when you could actually walk someone to the gate and wave at the plane as it took off, pretending that you could see their little face peering out of one of those tiny windows.

I remember several times running from the ticket counter to the gate. I also remember not running fast enough from the ticket counter to the gate and missing the flight.  Luckily, this was also the time that if you did miss a flight, you weren't penalized and getting a seat on the next flight out was never a problem. 

Since airlines were notorious for over-booking, there was always the possibility that you could be diverted and sent someplace else to spend the night before you arrived at your desired destination.

Which wasn't always a bad thing, especially if you happened to end up in Mexico City and the airline paid for the hotel room. Of course, missing a day on the beach in Mazatlan was the downside to that diversion but once there, it was easy to make up for the lost time.

Spending ten days on the beach in Mexico, drinking all those fru-fru drinks with little umbrellas, horseback riding on the beach (after numerous fru-fru drinks), haggling with the local beach vendors (especially the red-headed "Mexican" with the Irish accent), and enjoying all that wonderful food ... it was well worth the overnight stay in Mexico City.

At least until I got the hotel bill in Mazatlan and looked at the bar bill. It seems there were parties being held in my room while I was enjoying all those fru-fru drinks on the beach.

I had always taught my daughter to be a gracious hostess. 

Apparently I never taught her the difference between an "Open Bar" and a "No-host Bar".