So my friends reminded me last night that this a month for celebrating the joys of short people. Okay, it is more about celebrating the joys of finding the shiny gold of wee leprechauns. Today is the first day of this lovely month of celebration, and it has to start with a party. Why? Because my youngest godson was born today. Happy Birthday, my darling Jarrod. I do miss you, and some days I even miss whacking your mommy in the head with candy. I am sure she has told you about all of this violent abuse. I heard she was making you a choo choo train (hopefully it is chocolate and delicious beyond all reason), but I won't be there to enjoy it, so I thought perhaps that I would write you a little story and share it with the world. The following story is dedicated to my darling godson in honor of his fifth birthday. (With luck his mommy will draw some pictures to go with it and we can sell it for lots of money and eventually pay for his college education.)

Larry the Leprechaun turned five today
He wanted to sing, to jump, to play
But Larry felt sure no one would know
And if he threw a party no one would show,
And no presents would be there to unwrap
So he snuck off to bed, hid away in a nap
And awoke to a ruckus that shook the floors,
Rattled the windows, threw open the doors,
Somewhere in the house music was playing
Somewhere on the lawn a donkey was braying
He crept down the stairs, peeked into the crowd
Saw a jolly fairy riding by on a cloud
As soon as she saw him, she raised a great cry
And the hubbub stopped, and every single eye
Turned toward Larry as he hit the last stair
And realized that everyone he loved was there
Some were in green, leprechauns all
Others wore gold and orange, all colors of fall
Every hue represented, every creature too
And that is when Larry saw what everyone knew
Little Larry the Leprechaun was a lovable lad
And he had no cause for all those doubts he had
So everyone came to celebrate his birth
Even without the presents, he knew he was worth
More than emeralds, rubies, the gold in his pot
The gift of most value was the love he got

Well, I had more to post yesterday, but I didn't want to upstage that tremendously popular poem. Okay, so Jarrod, said, "Awww" when his mommy read it to him, and his was the only appreciation I was looking for in the first place. I always find it reassuring when my gifts are appreciated.

Of course, I will also find it reassuring when I stop second-guessing myself. I will find myself traveling to Fairmont less randomly and meet less interesting people, but I will definitely be a lot happier. So I ventured out into the snow last night to attend Council meeting. After sitting around for about ten minutes waiting for the fun to start, I looked out the window at our winter wonderland and figured I should go home before it got worse. Needless to say, I let myself be coerced into staying for approximately another hour.

So when I finally hopped into the hobbitmobile, the roads were covered in a lovely layer of white powder. I followed the reasonable precautions of the people in front of me. After all, I have never really been able to maintain a speed below 10mph before, so I was willing to take the challenge. When I hit the main road, one wild person felt like speeding up to pass me. I personally didn't want to rear-end a UPS truck if it suddenly stopped or started fishtailing across the road, but they seemed unconcerned about such things. I even made it up the lovely, steep, curvy hill toward Walmart, but once I hit flat ground, I was not out of the annoyance of winter driving. My car slipped a little and then went poomph right into a guard rail.

Then I sat there and waited to see how many people would stop to see if a living hobbit was still in the hobbitmobile. We really do live in a world where people care about strangers. I believe I had a total of six people stop to help me who didn't a) know me or b) have to because it's their job. The policewoman who showed up didn't seem to be having a good evening. She even commented that people who don't know how to drive should stay home. I found that slightly annoying, since to be honest, I really did want to already be home at that point.

My neighbors even stopped to check on me. My neighbors have to find me to be a source of great amusement, but that is another story. They were even waiting at their door when I finally popped out of my housemate's beefy truck. They seemed relieved to see me and concerned about my poor love machine. The hobbitmobile is still drivable (though it was declared undrivable by State Farm in September), but it needs to have some work done to one of its eyes. So anyone who would like to donate money to the cause can visit my wishlist and help me out. Of course, if you want to donate money for absolutely no reason or because you enjoy reading what I take time to post, I still recommend clicking on the paypal link and doing so. Yes, I am shameless.

And despite ongoing tenseness and worry about road conditions, which was not helped by passing an accident, complete with cop cars, me and the hobbitmobile made it safely to our destination. You wouldn't believe how insane I can go over not having my front blinker. Well, if you've ever heard my rant on turn signal usage, you may have a clue.

I also got to see another of the signs of cell phone culture. I saw a gentleman enter the library and show some distress. He was roaming around outside with his coat completely unzipped, no gloves, and a cell phone pressed to his ear. He babbled into it, said his goodbyes, and snapped the phone closed. Then he stared at his hand with a look of unrivaled anger. Apparently, he was angry that he was cold. I couldn't help but think he would have been warmer had he been more concerned with buttoning his coat like his momma taught him than talking on his cell phone. Ah, cell phones. Thank goodness I haven't caught the disease yet.

Actually, she obviously doesn't. If she were a man, well, she would be a he, and no one would want to hear her cheers. The sports that require such grace, such enthusiasm, such persuasive powers, however, do seem to involve balls. From baseball to soccer, you find people cheering for their team. Nannie and Velvet have even mentioned that they think every sport and event should have cheerleaders. How else can we keep the crowd interested? Beanies, of course.

From Jews to Gentiles, everyone loves a good beanie. It is a sad day in which we live when this admirable headgear has lost some of the chic-ness that it once possessed. Interestingly, "Rattler" just came in wearing a tobaggon (which is close to a beanie) and said what I was sure was "Hurray Teams". Sadly, he only said "greetings", but he did assure me that he does cheer from time to time. If you know who I am talking about, please enjoy that image. It definitely cheered me up.

I think cleaning should be a sport. Everything else is these days, from backgammon to poker. Granted Hoover had some cheesy commercial with a woman who was into underground vacuum racing, but that's just vacuuming and the vacuum does most of the work. I am talking about hardcore cleaning. Cleaning should involve a real broom, a real mop, soaps, detergents, bleach, your two hands dipped into soapy water, and determination. Guess what I am looking forward to this evening? Oh yes, even web divas like to get down and dirty (and not the way it has recently been implied to me that I do, but the sentiment is almost flattering in some way).

Anyway, my house is a mess, despite my best attempts to eradicate some of the filth that plagues it. The cats certainly don't help. Rodney, alone, puts enough hair on the floor right after I vacuum to make me not want to continue cleaning. Luckily for my many visitors, however, my desire for cleanliness frequently returns and my house is usually fairly presentable. How to fill all those other empty hours though is the problem. Wait, I don't have empty hours, so give a little cheer for cleaning. I'll put a ping pong ball in my pocket so we can call it a sport.

Yes, that's right, it is the phenomenon that is striking the nation. We are a nation in which everyone knows everything. That is why people selling natural male enhancement pills make enough money to assault our eyes and minds with more of their commercials. This is why people think that they can buy and sell all the garbage that spam mail brings and serve some useful function in society. This is why I want to wander up to some people and give them a little help with, "A, B, C, D, E..." Hopefully, you can fill in the rest of that. I don't feel like typing all 26 letters right now.

Some days are better than others. Some days, I am just fine with the fact that I live in a world of liars. I should realize by their fear the severity of the lies that people tell me. Of course, somewhere in me, I want to believe that people are like me and are truthful and sincere with each other. However, the world is full of people who think they are protecting people. *shakes head* Oh, in the end, no protection can be had from lies.

And then there is me. I can't go anywhere because I don't belong. That's why I spend so much time weaving a world on the web. I'm still weaving. Some day, I may even have a revised web page. In the meantime, I better stop having fun and being such a trollop, so I can make more money and pay off my bills. Happy trails, cowpokes.

So it was another fantastically untypical day in the life of Bella. I got up this morning and had my usual conversations with the cats. This consists of things like "Stop rubbing my face", "Look at the time, have I ever fed you at 3 a.m.", "Yes, I know, the alarm is going off", "Get out of the window, you pervert", "That is not food", "Ziggy, go play in traffic", "I can't get up until you move", and "Ziggy, go tell Whitey that you love him". That last comment was followed by Ziggy looking up with so much sincerity on her face and declaring, "Ruv Rwu". Then she continued to stare at me to make sure I understood. And yes, I did feed her, after I gave her a smooch and assured her that I love her, too.

Work was as exciting as always. I got another key as a reward for waking up too early to go to work. I am afraid my coworkers may take offense and beat me up so they can have janitor keys too. Luckily, they are friendly and peacable people. Tomorrow we shall all fill ourselves with food and be unable to move without being rolled. This should help me avoid losing preferred key status for at least one more day.

A beautiful woman bought me a healthy lunch today. Okay, so some people might not consider a blueberry bagel lunch, but it made me very happy. Add some cream cheese and it has most of the food groups. It may have all of them, but I can't think of a meat that would be in a bagel.

The evening culminated with fun and festivities at my friend Will's. On a side note, Will informs me that I don't come from an affectionate family. This resulted from my commentary on him rubbing his cheek on another guys' to show how smooth his face is. I am not the only one disturbed by this, but Will has a different conception of fun from me. I prefer to force feed people cookies. So, anyway, we played golf and I was the runner. Andrew of the fro was our grand prize winner. I think they may have let him keep his poker chip. Then I ran off with my ladies and came home where my cat is proudly sitting next to me while I almost watch wrestling. I don't think I am really watching it since I keep needing to ask what is going on. Have sweet ones, and just for Amy, in case she ever finds her way here, I found a quiz that says I am:

You're Texas!
You aren't really much of your own person, but everyone around you wishes you'd go away, so you might as well be independent. You're sort of loud-mouthed and abrasive, but you do have a fair amount of power. You like big trucks, big cattle, and big oil rigs. And sometimes you really smell. But it's not all bad, you're big enough to have some soft spots somewhere in all that redneck madness.
Take the Country Quiz at the Blue Pyramid

I find I spend a lot of time evaluating myself according to some fairly harsh criteria. Right now I am despondent and disappointed that I have not used every piece of fabric in my house to make something. Keep in mind that I received five boxes of fabric and I spend way too much time rummaging through the craft section at Wally-world. I am also finding myself to be too much the slacker in the realms of writing. My current go at a masterpiece has stagnated for months and my entries to my Bella-fic have been weekly at best. If I had more time and less to worry about (like bills, those things that send me careening into darkness and wild ponderings of how to earn extra money), I would probably devote more time to them.

It nags at me that today is someone's birthday, perhaps, the birthday of two very important people in my life. I know that there is a string of March birthdays hidden away in my mind, but they all pile on top of each other, so I am not sure whose birthday is on which day. So, in the hopes that I remembered correctly, I want to wish some beautiful ladies a happy birthday. You know who you are and I have kittens named after you *wink*.

The air is still crisp and cold, kind of like my heart on this long winter day. Yet somewhere inside of me, I am hoping for the thaw--of the world not my heart. My heart is tired of being kicked around. As tired as my eyes are of seeing in print that I am allegedly a whore no one wants to be around and my ears of hearing how I disappoint and hurt people. I don't hurt people. They hurt themselves. I know because I am only hurt at the moment because I bother to care at all how other people are feeling. They always miss the empath when she stops coming out to play. And she is not really in the mood to play anymore. If you want company in your misery, don't look to me, but I can give you some names.

My obsession with spring was probably helped along by another jaunt into the bushes. Nothing too exciting. We just had a fire drill. Besides, all we librarians do behind the bushes is share secrets like how many fiche it takes to screw in a light bulb. No, I am not telling you. I said it was a secret. Yeah, that's my cue to go sleep. Sweet dreams.

I saw a million advertisements today for getting your own blog. This reminded me that I have not recently updated mine. Besides, I have to let the kewl one know my final tally on pennies I found today: 4. You know someone has reached a new low when they start collecting stray change from the ground. Okay, so I have to amuse myself in odd ways, especially when I am so tired like I am today.

In other Bella begging news, I am participating in the American Cancer Society Relay for Life. Feel free to offer donations to me before April 9, 2005. I am always trying to cure something and this quarter, it is cancer. I tire of some people assuming I have to heal them while others assume that I am trying to fix what isn't broken. Someday, people will just realize that if I care at all, that is really more than they could have ever asked for.

Anyway, a nasty little virus is bouncing from person to person. I'm just hoping all the sugar in my system scares it away. Some people have noted that I am too sweet for words. Of course, those people do actually know me. They even know me well enough to know that a random visit involving cookies will brighten up my day, even if they interrupt a class. And now, those cookies and a really long nap are summoning me.

So we were out on that rooftop. I could see the moon, obscured by the mists over the city of Pittsburgh. I couldn't help but be drawn in by the way you were displaying yourself so proudly. The whiteness of your skin and the declaration that you were a "yumi 1" was tempting me to lick you, as this went so well with previous conversations. I resisted, darling, but you and I both know I will always regret it.

So, mysteries aside, I spent a wonderful day off with my lovely children. Ziggy and Rodney enjoyed moments of extra snuggling as the day began. Then it was time for whirlwind cleaning. I so love to scrub down my house. I even vacuumed. This means Rodney will have to spend more time leaving his mark in white hair upon the floor. In the meantime, I have realized that my floor is actually a dark blue.

I also washed some more of the fabulous fabric that lives in my house. I have so many things on my "to do" list that I may never finish them all. In the meantime, I will keep squeezing them in. I took a little break from all of this to take that fabulous trip to Pittsburgh. I pretended to be vegetarian and got a delicious pasta and vegetable platter. This was followed by a delicious chocolate mousse cake. I also got to hit on a gorilla. Ah, the stories I could tell.

Then it was off to watch the Broadway version of my darling Aravan's favorite show. I got see Little Shop of Horrors. I will never look at dentists the same way again. I will also never look at plant food the same way again. And all of this was barely in time to remind me of Aravan and I's upcoming anniversary. Aravan, baby are you ready? I hope so. We have some serious celebrating to do.

Having not spent enough time out of of town, I returned to Pittsburgh on Saturday night. No, I wasn't driving, so any accidents were not my fault by any stretch of the imagination. Me and the fiery one went to a swing dance. No, I also do not know how to swing, despite any quotes I may use about being a "swinger, baby, yeah". On the way up, I got see quite the vision. My car flavor of the month is the Mitsubishi Eclipse (very fitting for a moon goddess, wouldn't you say?). We got to follow one happily for quite a while and I even got to see what one looks like when driving right beside an Omni. It is quite a contrast, as you can well imagine. Sadly, an Eclipse is not in my future unless you all start saving your pennies now and purchase me one for my birthday.

So, as I said, I can't swing dance. I believe this became readily obvious to everyone. Luckily, I apparently have attractive legs, so people came over and tried to help me learn anyway. I believe I danced with about five different people. My favorite was, of course, the deaf guy. Yes, the guy who could not hear. You know I am doing bad when someone who can't hear the music is doing better than me. He was still quite patient with my hobbit shuffling. *giggles* Another guy took my recommendation to twirl me to heart. I can handle twirling. It makes me giggle--always has.

Speaking of giggling. I believe someone in the greater Pittsburgh area now despises me. He did open himself up to be mocked though. And I am terrible like that. He came to a dance. The fiery asked him to dance. He said that he was too tired. He spent the evening walking around the dance floor in big circles, which doesn't seem like something a tired person would do. I reached a conclusion which was, "He is doing the 100 miles in a 100 days program and wants to get all 100 miles in tonight." I was tempted to follow him around as I am actually doing that program at work and need the miles.

Yesterday was a much calmer day as it was Easter Sunday. Sacrament meeting was a musical buffet of voices. I had no idea how many incredible voices we had hiding in our congregation. No, I am not one of them. (I really like to say no right now.) I was thankful that the choir didn't end up singing. Since we had practiced the song once, we would have probably ruptured something like everyone's eardrums. Then I hung out with the missionaries and helped finish a puzzle that was almost finished. I don't think I should be allowed to play with puzzles though. I am not incredibly good at them (probably because I lose interest and go back to sewing, making cards, or dancing with my cat.)

Today was another typical Monday, except for the random book that appeared in fiche land and begged for my attention. I promptly vanquished it to the realms of labeling. If rumors get around that I can deal with books, too, I'll run out of space to pile my microfiche. And I have been secretly mapping out a village with them for months. All I need is some gold to pave the streets with and it will be fiche Heaven. Ah, such a dream. Better go chase it down before it gets away.

So I was taking a walk down memory lane today. Walking is my life these days between the 100 miles in a 100 days program and the American Cancer Society Relay For Life (still accepting donations). Anyway, for some reason I was thinking about the wild, sordid affair I had one summer with Dr. Mario. Ah, how I loved that game despite the fact that no levels exist after level 24 on high. I proved this by beating it over and over until my darling Aravan wanted to stick a controller in my ear. Those were the days.

Today was not full of long moments of virus killing and controller dodging, however. I got to shuffle more fiche and observe the wonderous joy that is stamping microfiche. Another in a long series of events that involves people not caring enough to do things right the first time. That was pretty much all that happened today besides folding more fabric. Ah, the excitement. Anyway, time to curl up with a good memory.