Past the Tissues, We've all got Issues

http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&videoid=1679592956

Supervision Needed.

I should not be allowed near sharp objects... or small children. As evidence: A copy of an e-mail I sent out two days ago:

"I'm currently in the office alone.. and I got into the scissors... and decided my arm hair was too long... umm.. the results are interesting and now I have arm hair all over my black shirt and I can't get it off.
Luckily, no one walked in as I was snipping away. But I should not be allowed to have scissors.
Sometimes I can't control my special needs side."

My friend the tour guide

Guess who made a friend with Tour Guide Jim?

Today

Today I broke down in the drive-through at the KFC whilst buying a bucket of chicken for my grandma. True story.

It's not ok.

I have succumbed to the facebook machine and created an account. Let the stalking commence.

I need to be with this dude.

http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/chi/291079504.html

I am becoming my Grandmother.

Looking over the posted picture from the road trip to Regina last week-end, I discovered I am becoming my Grandmother. No, it was not because we went on tours of Government House and the Legislative Building because they were free (and I think knowledge is fun!) Nor was it because I am now getting drunk off of a cocktail and considering stealing the little jam packets they give you with toast at brunch. Nor was it because I have discovered myself sticking Kleenexes up my sleeve, "for later." No.... it is because my body has become permanently attached to my purse. I am so attached in fact, that in this picture of me and RJ in the legislative assembly, a room where there was only three of us, me, RJ and the tour guide, I am so afraid of a purse mugging that I need to wrap my bag's strap around my foot and pose for a picture. I need an intervention people. Stop me before I start riding a scooter around Wal-Mart with a bumper sticker that reads, "Honk if you love Jebus".