My parking permit is many states away. I think it ran away with the spoon when that ill-fated relationship was over. This gives me yet another excuse to stay at home and root around in my possessions. An archaelogical expedition like this can't be launched every day. My goal was to get some extraneous items out of my inbox, but I have pretty much failed in that one thus far today. Maybe tomorrow will find me with more luck. In the meantime, I plan to spend the rest of the evening bouncing between needles and the keyboard. Hopefully, I don't get sucked in by shiny games and thus accomplish even less, but I do need to relax from time to time.

I am sure my evening will prove more relaxing that my darling Rodney's evening has been thus far. I looked up from my mad typing earlier to behold Lil' Guy ripping out tufts of white fluff and then shaking them off onto the floor. I thought these were the result of rabid fighting, but now I just think it is some sort of strange grooming procedure. It must not hurt though since all Rodney did was stare at him blankly,. Perhaps he was thinking, "Ah, to be naked at last." In which case, Ziggy has been a bad influence on the boys and I shall have to take away her right to wear Armani (as if anyone in my little kingdom can afford that).

And for those who haven't had a chance to appreciate a prophet today: "Please don't nag yourself with thoughts of failure. Do not set goals far beyond your capacity to achieve. Simply do what you can do, in the best way you know, and the Lord will accept your effort." ~Gordon B. Hinckley (Ensign, November 1989, p. 96.)

Trouble can always be borne when it is shared. ~Katherine Paterson

In that case, I want trouble to be some sort of sweet dessert. Why? Right now I want to make something sweet and then eat some of it, but at this singular moment in time, I have no random church activity to drag it to and no random victims in my house to force sugar upon. How is a hobbit supposed to live under these conditions?

The cure for anything is salt water--sweat, tears, or the sea. ~Isak Dinesen (1885-1962)

To succeed you have to believe in something with such a passion that it becomes a reality. ~Anita Roddick

Do the thing you believe in. Do the best you can in the place where you are and be kind. ~Scott Nearing

Strong people are made by opposition like kites that go up against the wind. ~Frank Harris (1856-1931)

Strong lives are motivated by dynamic purposes ~Kenneth Hildebrand

You shouldn't share your dreams because then they won't come true, or, in the case of my friends, you shouldn't share your dreams unless you want someone else to try and steal them away from you. Odd? Ah, the memories and the repeated reminders that I do surround myself with people who half listen and then chase what they think I want. Glad you caught it, but I never wanted your prize. What does this have to do with anything? My dreams have just been interesting of late. I have dreamed of defaced rare books (used to insult people) and co-workers dressed as bunnies (but not where I work now, odd, eh?) These would all make interesting stories. Anyone want to pay me to write them?

Speaking of funding hobbit happiness, feel free to offer me large sums of money to make Christmas presents for the ones you love. I have a variety of crafty talents and, most days, a charming personality. I have decided that I should value my talents a bit more highly though, so depending on what you want, you may want to treat me like the rest of the fabulous divas and save up a fair (not free or discounted) fee to pay for my services. And if you don't have need of my services, start collecting your pocket change. I accept pocket change as birthday presents. Sounds sad, but it will make me happy. You have a few more months to go, so start collecting ;)

So I could go on and on about the evils of this world we live in. I could tell you your flaws, but you wouldn't listen. I could tell you my woes, but you would just misunderstand. Instead, I will let my cat keep the quilt he is sleeping on a bit longer and tell you the beauties of the world. Now, don't assume these are about you, but assume that they could be if you wanted to become someone who brings a smile to the faces of the people you meet (even casually).

I have seen men who still hold doors for women. I have seen people who defend their friends, their loves, and their beliefs. I have met those who would walk through the fire for the sake of someone they have never met. I have loved those who do the best they can. I have met those who know that when you work in a service industry (most people in our country) that it is important to respect the people you serve. I have had moments alone and moments in the arms of people who love me simply because I am me. I have met honesty. I have found truth in the the strangest places. I have been remembered when I needed it most. And now I must devour a surprisingly good broccoli casserole.

Bella, Bella, come into this future please
Offering no promises, no freedom of disease
To eat away at you, inside and out
But if you hear this, you know it's about
To come crashing, float your world away
Bring your greatest fears and desires to play

Bella, Bella, I call you though you can't hear
Did you know I whispered when we were near
My love to you, for you did not respond
And now do you miss me, now I am gone
But I am calling you again and again
I want more than mortal love, dearest friend

Bella, Bella, you never quite see you as I do
You say you want to be loved, loved as you
Not some IMPress, object, distant queen
And I maintain it is I who have seen
And can offer you all you could ever need
If you'll remove the daggers, cease to bleed

Overlook that. The problem with interpreting poetry is that the only person who will ever know what it is really saying is the one who wrote it. This key-master of the riddle's heart doesn't want to solve it for you, and you don't have the keys. So what do I want? Why do I keep coming back to MY journal?

Well, today is a very special day in my heart. It is Cinco de Mayo, a holiday of significance to those who speak better Spanish than me and the Taco Bell dog. It is also the birthday of my fabulous Boston wife. Now what gift can I give her today? Hmmm, this is not a simple matter, so I must ponder a bit more before I commit.

You come to the water's edge. A waterfall bubbles from a narrow chasm, splashing the pool and sending ripples toward you. As you gaze into the spouting plumes of spray, a woman materializes there. She is no great beauty. Her face is not wrinkled with age though worry and laughter both dance in her dark eyes. She smiles at you and beckons you to come forward. You approach, feeling all of your weariness and sorrow washed away by the cool water.

"My eternal friendship, did you want something more?"

The world is singing me a Blondie song? I think not. The world is not out to get me. It may be out to get the hobbitmobile though. Everyone wants the hobbitmobile. It is the new status symbol of America. It's small, it's white, it's rusty, and it looks like it has taken a lot of abuse and still it keeps going. Okay, most people in my age group would have junked her by now to replace her with something sexier.

Anyway, my lovely Lady Leda and I need to make Cinco de Mayo resolutions (and I am late in posting them). Why Cinco de Mayo? Because Cinco means fifth, so that means I only have to make five resolutions. Also, for kicks and because we let people kick us around too much, so here are mine. Leda, baby, remember as you make your own list that you are a valuable and wonderful person, and I want you to work for me when I am rich and famous, okay? Good. Here goes:

CINCO DE MAYO RESOLUTIONS

1. Stop apologizing for misunderstandings. They are not my fault unless I am the one who got hurt by something I think someone said or did.
2. Hold out for my true value.
3. Don't give up on those things that are truly important to make someone else happy in the moment.
4. Bring more light into the world with my talents (you know which one, Leda, right?)
5. Only address my journal entries to the people who deserve recognition.

"Patience is learning to hide your impatience." ~Jacob de Jager (Ensign, May 1983, p. 76.)

Oh yes. I almost forgot to address the topic of today. Yes, that topic is today. It started out with my cat not trying to wake me up at some forsaken hour of the morning. I guess he reads this journal and got the point. When I finally trundled out of bed, he pursued me to the ladies' room. He still hasn't caught on that I am not planning to desert him to his fate any time soon. I don't know where he gets these paranoid delusions, but I wish his dealer would quit hooking him up.

The morning continued with two of my favorite things: microfiche and donuts. Apparently, my boss is celebrating a birthday on Wednesday. It's been a big couple of months for him between marrying the woman of his dreams and growing a year younger. I did appreciate the donut though. What kind of a person would I be if I didn't appreciate the donut? Seriously, that is just un-American.

Later in the day, I got to feel like I was in a waterfall (without being wet and cold since the weather is chilly). Some fabulously talented men were washing our windows. One of my co-workers observed that the windows of their van were dirty. Perhaps, they test new employees by making them scrub the filthy van windows. They were using brushes with hoses attached to them and really long handles. I can still see a nasty smudge on one of the windows near me. I wonder if it is on the inside, but it doesn't interest me enough to check. Maybe on Wednesday. I am saving lots of fun stuff until Wednesday.

I also got to spend some time torturing a friend with lemons and whining. Too bad we don't drink. Lemon wine actually sounds kind of intriguing. Of course, not many people want to chug lemon juice, so I am not sure how popular that would be. The real question is whether it already exists. *surf* I found a listing for it. It was labeled as "horrid". Why am I not surprised. Okay, time for me to go and load up on carbs. That is what is cool about my kitchen--it is carb compliant.

So my mom called me today. She is not going to have a good mother's day. Her favorite child has deserted us. This would be her cat. I am so on my way to being a crazy cat lady (as long as it is genetic). Poor little fellow was about fourteen years old. That's pretty good for a cat. I think he held on so long because he knew how much he was loved. Anyway, send up some prayers for comfort for my mom, will ya?

I've been hearing a lot about the joys of fan fiction lately. Okay, it's been for quite a while. I'd try my hand at it, but I have other sorts of fiction to sort through. Some days, it seems that a lot of the things in my world don't really exist. For instance, is that really a cat glaring at me from the floor or just a pile of fuzz (or Rodney's hair which is very possible). I've had a whole day off to contemplate such things, but it seems I haven't accomplished much. It is rather difficult to do much when the phone is ringing and your mom is sad (unless you don't like your mom. In which case, I suppose you would just hang up on her.) Ah well, excuses abound not to make something of our lives.

I really don't have anything earth-shattering to share with the general audience of the world. When you watch good theater, you miss out on all of the fabulous excitement going on behind the curtain. You don't know about the secret tryst between the leading lady and puppet-master or the piles of lush fabrics that got rejected as costumes for this show. Ah, but what we don't know is what makes the show worth going to, right?

Today is not only my boss's birthday, but also the day that Bono and Fred Astaire were born. Isn't that fabulous, so since I didn't forget, Happy Happy Happy Happy Birthday.

Due to some scheduled maintenance, the system was down today. This meant I had to find something to do besides make records respect my authority and bring fiche to their knees (though I could still return them to their drawers). I spent an hour of the morning exploring the wealth of historical knowledge about the fabulous university. Our football team was original the Snakers and they stole the dwarfs caps to wear on their heads. Luckily, the dwarfs stole them back and their name was changed to something that sounds less like a plumber's tool.

As we stood in our happy knowledge cluster, I couldn't help but notice the smells of fresh cut grass and gasoline. Somehow that seems to speak of spring. In a world where we want our lawns as perfectly cropped as our hair, we can expect no less, right? Later, I could smell the perfume of some flowers from across the street. Spring has sprung with a vengeance. I just await the rainstorms to rattle the shutters and send me from my bed to watch the lightning strike. Of course, the sun is out in all her glory. Even my marsh is less marshy. Ah, so much to do and so little time and so many phone calls.

Pure religion is learning the gospel of Jesus Christ and then putting it into action. Nothing will ever be of real benefit to us until it is incorporated into our own lives. ~Marvin J. Ashton (Ensign, November 1982, p. 63.)

Even when I dream, I am brutally honest to my own detriment, it seems. I had another one of those fascinating dreams last night. Sometimes, in the real world, I lie to myself to protect myself, but in my dreams I can't do that. Wonderful how that works for some of us, isn't it?

"The success of this life is not measured at the end of it by what we have, but rather by what we are." ~Rulon S. Wells (CR, October 1912, p. 25.)

So today was full of waiting and anticipation. At last, we were rewarded with the pleasure of exploring the new version of some software. They finally changed some of the shortcuts to the norm, but, after about four years, I have gotten used to using the illogical ones. This threw off my effective efficiency. I think I was just getting the hang of it when that prehistoric bird whistled and I got into my car and ran home. Okay, it wasn't that simple since my carpool compatriot forgot his keys at work. He secretly just couldn't resist all those sexy books. We all hear them calling out to us in the middle of night.

Not much to report in my fabulous world. I have been busy staying off of the radar. Actually, I've been busy trying to accomplish things between phone calls. My phone is going to need a switchboard operator before too long. Anyone with a nice nasal voice wish to apply?

Neither give cherries to pigs nor advice to a fool. ~Irish Proverb

Live for something--Do good, and leave behind you a monument of virtue that the storms of time can never destroy. ~Thomas Chalmers (1780-1847)

Charm strikes the sight, but merit wins the soul. ~Alexander Pope (1688-1744)

Like a fence, character cannot be strengthened by whitewash. ~American Proverb

Character may be manifested in the great moments, but it is made in the small ones. ~Phillips Brooks

Every moment of each day counts. Our best recourse is to live life with intensity and exhilaration--in thought, experience, action, and deed. ~Paul Kurtz

One more day until Mother's Day. For some reason, I seem to have a working knowledge of this particular holiday from its conception (pre-Hallmark) to the yearly pilgrimage that some make to the Mother's Day Shrine. Yes, such a place does exist, but you don't have to go their to prove you love your momma. Just give her a hug and a smooch, and you could even wash the dishes after dinner.

Anyway, I have been reflecting recently on how our houses turn into museums over time. We accumulate little pieces of our lives that we just can't imagine displaying or pitching. We hide them in closets, basements, garages, and under the eaves of attics. Then one day we discover them and we sit looking at them in awe. It may even take us a while to remember how they came to exist or why they were so important that we stored them away. Then we look at them and remember, vaguely, and wonder why we don't all keep fabulous journals detailing all of the little things (not brushing your teeth--the little but meaningful things).

Anyway, not much to report here. I did see someone driving down the road in full clown regalia the other day, and it occurred to me that I missed one of my callings in life, but no real excitement. Things are only as exciting as I make them after all. My life is in serious need of a rest break, so I am trying not to get too excited. I just keep telling myself, "Think fiche". How deliciously dull it is. Keep playing and donating to the support a hobbit cause.

To those women who wipe our noses, foster our dreams, and give us life, I think we should all express our appreciation. If your own mother isn't close enough to hug, hug that woman close to you who washes your laundry, cooks your food, or simply worries about you for no reason at all. She has probably been a mother to someone. My little babies have been rather nice to me today. They even let me take a shower without an audience. I felt truly honored. For their next trick, perhaps, they will practice cleaning their own litter box. This doesn't look promising, but one must always have hope.

It becomes more and more clear that some of us just let life happen. Instead of fighting and whining for things that we probably don't need anyway, we let life roll us along. This is not very profitable. Trying to be considerate of others is also not very profitable. It eats up time and energy and so few people do it that you eventually feel crushed under the weight of your own politeness. Sad when a hobbit feels like this, eh?

Of course, some of the things that just happen amuse me. For instance, I enjoy having a random following of fabulous pets wherever I go. I should welcome Hershey and Furgoo [sic] to the hobbit appreciation club. I'm glad Furgoo likes me. He tried to remove my roomie's beard with the skin the other day. We think it was in an effort for misplaced self-defense, but it was still pretty brutal. Perhaps, Ziggy finally has some competition for meanest feline in the east.

The good thing about missing a day of work is that you come back and find that people missed you so much that they gave you presents. I came in this morning and found four whole boxes of fascinating math books. They were there just for me. Aren't you jealous? Of course, you would have to be. The desires of the world rest in the hearts of math books. I could be an expert on derivatives and set theory by the end of the week. Or I could just do my job and get the books back to the math library, since more people will be wanting them now that fabulous records exist identifying them and their contents. The math professors and graduate assistants love me and most of them don't even know it yet.

I also had a few rebel fiche from a galaxy far far away. Actually, they are just copies of reports from the House of Lords, but when one doesn't have lots of shinies in their pocket, one considers anywhere far, far away. Some days I want to be far, far away (chasing Yoda through the galaxy and wooing him), but then I realize I'd miss all the fun that goes on right outside my door. Speaking of, I am going to go see if I have ducks or adorable kids to observe. Here's some words from someone wiser than I:

"The spiritual nature within us should not be dominated by the physical. It behooves each of us to remember who he or she is and what God expects him or her to become." ~Thomas S. Monson (Ensign, May 1987, p. 67.)

Should one begin evaluating their day from those last snippets of a dream that they vaguely remember? Should they include that brief period of wakefulness when they stumble from bed for a hydration need? Maybe the first time the cat screams in their ear pitifully, begging for food attention, assurance that "mommy" is still alive? Some days it is hard to say if any of these things effect the day. Every day, however, is affected by that decision to get out of bed.

I'm actually surprised Miss Ziggy let me live through the night. She smelled funny so I tossed her in the tub and gave her a bath. Nothing looks more miserable than that cat when she is wet. I should have taken pictures, but I would have been arrested for animal abuse. She still loves me though her fur still looks mangled. She was trying to get me to pet her when she was still damp and grody last night and the trend continues. You can imagine how unconvinced I was, but now I can see her fur needs some love.

Today is a day to celebrate for Ziggy actually. One of her favorite people came into the world many years ago on this date. She is so sweet that she just might be candy, and I love her to pieces. I just hope she knows what a beautiful girl she is and how lucky all of us are who get the chance to see that. Happy Birthday, Sugar!

So I mention evaluating the day, but the day is not over yet. I am just killing some time until my date of the evening joins me for a lengthly chat. We're hoping to change the patterns of the stars and work our magic. That is what happens, isn't it? Ah, yes, only those involved know what is really going on in any given situation (unless they refuse to see--happens to me all the time). Anyway, I better go prepare my brain for all this fun, but I would rate today as not bad. I seem to have accomplished quite a bit and made some decisions that should eventually lead to a cheerier me. "To changing the world, and reinventing the wheel." *clink*

"Faith is a gift of God; it is the fruitage of righteous living. It does not come to us by our command but is the result of doing the will of our Heavenly Father." ~George Albert Smith (CR, October 1913, p. 103.)

Some evenings are best spent without awareness. I don't know how many I have spent oblivious to the attentions of people around me. I am not saying that I am the belle of the ball (just Bella), and many people seem to appreciate that. On my good days, apparently, I can be quite charming, thoughtful, considerate, and (once every ten years) attractive. The problem is that sometimes I can't seem to figure out why people treat me like trash and then can't stop coming back into my world. Not that I mind so much. Despite my assertions to the contrary, I have far too much love for the people around me.

Okay, those of you who are thinking, "she is SOOOO conceited" can quit thinking that. I am far more aware of how many people have no respect or admiration for me. I have been aware since I was about six. It gets driven home pretty quick when you're a kid because kids have no mercy. Those children and people, however, usually don't know me at all, so their opinion doesn't matter to me. My world right now is being reshaped so that I concentrate on the positive. This means I have to give up those pity parties that some find delicious. So if you are coming here to see me falter or prove that you can hurt me, you'll have to find another venue for that.

Now for all the library news that is news. I got the supreme satisfaction of seeing the near end of a project today. I say the near end because these projects are never over. One way or another, they always come back to haunt me. Not that I mind. It is amusing to revisit old friends. We can derive pleasure from the old days.

Sometime in the afternoon, the scent of wood smoke infiltrated part of the building. I am not certain, but I think someone may have been having a cook-in. They could have invited the rest of us to enjoy the fun. Actually, it probably came in through one of the well-sealed doors. Our ventilation system leaves something to be desired, but at least it makes for intrigue like the strange scents of May 2006. Ah, is it really May already?

So my cat, being the genius he is, decided to turn my computer off for me this morning. That created an incredible silence in my room. After a while, you get so used to the whirring of the fans that you notice when they have deserted you. This didn't make me get up any quicker. Silly cat thought he was winning. He only wins when it comes to cuteness and cuddliness (and sometimes personality).

The hobbitmobile is not winning any awards today either. It's battery has went to the great beyond, which means more financial fun for me. That aside, I got to take a stroll today as a result. I got to observe the world from a familiar angle (that of a pedestrian). It can be quite scary when people are zipping by without seeming to pay any attention to other cars on the road let alone those puny, invisible people walking on what passes for a sidewalk in this fabulous hamlet.

I survived the experience, and I got to hold an adorable baby to boot. Now if the image of me holding a child doesn't sound familiar to you, you don't know me very well. Kids are adorable. I just don't want to break them or pull a Spears' nanny and drop them or kidnap them and cause their mommies to be sad. Some thoughts disturb me. Anyway, I proved that I am still the best cure for insomnia by putting the wee one to sleep in less than two minutes. I don't think I can top that for positive experiences for the day, so I guess I will go create some havoc (ah, havoc and the memories) elsewhere.

"It is painful to be the victim. But have you not yet learned how much more painful it is to be the offender?" ~Boyd K. Packer (Ensign, November 1987, p. 17.)

A lot of us spend quite a bit of time talking to people who are not really there. We do this because we don't accept people for who they are. We accept them for who we can make them, who we want them to be, or who we think they can be. This can be a result of high standards (expecting them to have the power to make it all better when they struggle just like all of us mortals) or too low (expecting them to have nothing better to be than our "beck and call girl"). Either way, such relationships and friendships tend to falter and fail.

Today is Hug Your Cat Day. How fortunate for me!

So, in my boredom, I realized my entries could be more fun if I had writing assignments. Since I am a kind and considerate blogger, I thought I would toss out the option for writing assignments to my fabulous fans. What do you want to see me rant about? I do have a few rules, however:

1. Only send me one suggestion a week. (I will only look at one per person each week and if you can't respect this, I will stop considering your suggestions entirely.)
2. All suggestions should be sent to fanklubz at meowmail dot com. (If you send them to another e-mail account, they will just get pitched.)
3. Don't be disappointed if I don't use your suggestion. I have many fans and will pick one a week (probably by rolling a die because I know they'll all be too great to just pick one.)
4. Smile when you're sending your e-mails. If you don't, I'll frown, and that will cause sad faces all over the house. Then Ziggy will send you hate mail and no one (except Lil' Guy) wants hate mail from Ziggy.
5. Inappropriate suggestions or ones that are none of your business will not be considered!

I had a fabulous evening with the wife and kids (okay, daughter-in-law). For some reason they won't let children into the theater who have more facial hair than members of ZZ Top. I have no idea what is up with that particular prejudice, do you?

Anyway, we went to see a movie all about a male turtle with a deep love for family. Right up my alley, right? Dozens of wonderful little creatures running around, eating junk food. A hedge named Steve. Cars. Excitement. Gorgeous twins. Ah, this makes for a fabulous evening. I can't begin to make you understand. You'll just have to make some time with your own wife, husband, cat, dog, chicken, cow,rose bush or other significant other.

I decided to give myself my first writing assignment. Now, should I tell you where to find it or just link you to it. I'm feeling nice. See what a good wife can do to you?

A father somewhere in the park is calling out angrily to his children. Sounds a bit harsh to me, but different people view the world in different ways, don't we? For instance, my cat views me moving the quilt next to me as a sign that I want him to go away. I view the same action as a sign that I want him to sit next to me, but not on my current project. This one is for my soon-to-appear 100% niece. Shhhh, don't tell my family.

Anyway, I guess I just felt like commenting on how different people can feel they are showing love in the crazy things we do. Yelling at people tends to not show love. Binding them up with duct tape and attaching them to the hood of your car does not show love. Giving them a hug and reminding them you care makes them know you care. Taking the time to talk to them and ask how they are doing shows that you care. Even jumping on their laptop and rubbing your head against their face shows love. Offering to buy them ambrosia at Taco Bell (even if they don't accept) shows love. I think my readers know how this goes. I just felt like commenting.

I may have read too many conference talks today, so I will go sew away on this quilt. Maybe I can add it to my completed project pile and go back to contemplating Christmas. I want to get an early start so I can have something for everyone on my list by December (and maybe have time to take on a few paying projects for needy friends. Who knows?) Good night.

Sometimes conversations are a tedious chore. The conversation keeps slipping back to subjects that don't need approached. One of the speakers is finding fault in everything or just one person. It makes me sad. So many people in this world think that they should be loved exclusively. I am not saying that in a marriage that one has any right to be disloyal. I am saying that if you truly care about someone, you don't find fault with them having other interests or friends. You don't punish them. You don't turn your back on them. You don't try to make them hate someone simply because you don't like them. IMPresses and goddesses of love feel a need to at least try to love everyone, so don't expect them to abhor someone because you believe they did you wrong. Perspectives in this modern age tend to skew situations so that someone is always at fault, whether a fault really exists or not. Sorry, been a long day...

The day actually wasn't that long. I just got insomnia again last night. I haven't had insomnia in forever. I actually have been having the opposite problem, but I adore sleep, so it's okay. My darling Rodney decided to try inappropriate massaging last night. That did not go over well, so he decided to curl up on my folded arms and stick his twitching tail on my ear. I already couldn't sleep since my brain got turned on and was contemplating the creation of beauty and grace to be distributed throughout the world as I see fit. Obviously, it wasn't a textual taste of beauty (since it isn't living here), but maybe you will find out about it later. Speaking of, I have some projects to work on.

"Inspiration can be the spring of every person's hope, guidance, and strength. It is one of the magnificent treasures of life. It involves coming to the infinite knowledge of God." ~James E. Faust (Ensign, May 1980, p. 14.)

I found myself awake at an unholy hour this morning. After I wandered about in search of water, I returned to find that in order to get back into bed, I had to squeeze between two bed hogs. You should get cats, they make those half-asleep moments more entertaining. Needless to say, when I finally got to work, I was feeling so not wide awake. I even threatened to give myself the middle key. It was a much more amusing statement in my head, but even coming out of my mouth, it wasn't much of a threat.

Too bad I didn't have any threats handy. Some marauding books wandered into my cubicle and held me hostage until I agreed to receive them, thus making them someone else's problem. Three boxes later, I found my brain swimming with numbers and my desire to go home at its peak. After all, summer institute started this evening.

I ended up at the Institute a little early, so I decided to hang out in the outdoors where the fabulous people of the smoking table could observe me and my quilting finesse. Nothing is as cool as stabbing oneself with a needle over and over. As I wanted for more girls to appear (the class was mainly beautiful ladies last night), I looked up to behold the most awesome thing of the week (so far).

Three little old ladies were being escorted into the Manor. This, in and of itself, was not out of the ordinary. These particular ladies were all wearing knee length poofy skirts. They were absolutely adorable. I am guessing that they just came from some sort of dance class. I only hope I can still pull off such things when I am more wizened than my current 708 years. The evening concluded with a wonderful reunion at the roadhouse. Nothing can bring a bunch of Mormons together like free bread and water. Wow, that is so true. Even when I am wonked and in need of sleep, I still make some sense.

Some of the people who are blessed enough to have my e-mail have been sending me self-help forwards lately. They are sending them to everyone in their address book, so I am not sure they think I need this particular help. With my penchant for having opinions, I should write a self-help book. Would you buy it? Would you read it if you bought it? And what on earth would I call it? It is definitely something to consider.

I am still feeling wonked. Despite my better efforts, I found myself awake far too early this morning. My cat has started screeching plaintively until I obey his commands. That "Fluffybunny: Property of Rodney: Spank and Send Home" collar that he ordered for me is on the way. I really need to not get into these abusive relationships. The goal of the hour is to step out of my own shadow and become a better, more scintillating diva. I am not exactly sure what I mean by that, but I think it basically translates to (and forgive me for being a zealot) "being more Christlike". That is quite a tall order, but if it were easy, it wouldn't be as much fun, right?

I sometimes wonder if I have drank the bitter dregs of too many cups to ever wash away the flavor. Of course, I had a friend once who said the nasty remnants of a million cups of coffee he already drank made his coffee taste better. Oh, so many reason why I worried about that boy, but that dirty coffee cup was on the top of the list. Enough said about that.

I just look around and everything reminds me of something come and gone. This can be good, yes, but for the most part, the life of even the most fabulous diva isn't all peaches and cream. I have friends who whine if they break a nail or fail a class they never went to. Imagine, if you will, that you did go to that class, did all your work, and your lab partner who traced her drawings from the book because she was never there still got better grades than you. And, yes, that happened to me. Just more fodder for my fabulous rants.

Not sure how I got on that subject though. Last night, some friends dropped by and we played a game for about two hours. The junkies are still mourning the fact that it wasn't four hours or was it twenty-four. You know how junkies can be. I am mourning the fact that I still don't think I got enough sleep. My alarm kitty woke me up around 5:30 this morning. He's going to be sleeping on the street if I can't reset him for at least 6. Well, maybe not. He is the most loyal man I have ever met.

Today was also a test in work ethic. After finding I could not do three of my fabulous projects this morning, I still sought out one that I would not be denied. Then that failed for a while when the internet went kaboom. I still made it through the day. I still made progress. I am just that cool. Now to make progress with something else.

The events of childhood do not pass but repeat themselves like seasons of the year. ~Eleanor Farjeon

It is good to love as many things as one can, for therein lies true strength, and those who love much, do much and accomplish much, and whatever is done with love is done well. ~Vincent van Gogh (1853-1890)

Someday, after mastering the winds, the waves, the tides and gravity, we shall harness for God the energies of love, and then, for a second time in the history of the world, man will have discovered fire. ~Pierre Teilhard de Chardin (1881-1955)

The oldest trees often bear the sweetest fruit. ~German Proverb

As we grow old, the beauty steals inward. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

Fortunately, analysis is not the only way to resolve inner conflicts. Life itself remains a very effective therapist. ~Karen Horney (1885-1952)

Men try to run life according to their wishes; life runs itself according to necessity. ~Jean Toomer (1894-1967)

Musicians don't retire; they stop when there's no more music in them. ~Louis Armstrong

So I made it into the neighborhood pool. I have lived here through three summers if I calculate correctly, and this is the first time I have been there. Luckily, I had lots of moral support. Nothing beats a bunch of childish adults playing water tag. Very few things in this world could prove to me that I need to get in better shape. Luckily, they took pity on me and let me catch them from time to time. Of course, I still smell chlorine, but I am not sure if that is on me or just in my lovely nose. I did inhale quite deeply of the pool water. I must get more in depth pool training, mustn't I?

The rest of the day was not nearly so eventful. I made a bit of progress with a few of my pet projects, but I still have a long way to go before I can call them finished and pat myself on the back. I should probably take a gander at what lies on that plate and figure out what needs more attention tomorrow.

One of my prizes from yesterday was a fabulous sunburn (and from how I felt today, probably some sun poisoning--I am so a vampire in disguise). This sunburn is fabulous because it is only on a small portion of my body. I just wish it was somewhere besides my shoulders. Shoulders get a lot more use than one would think. People latch on them to hug you. Babies cry on them. Purse straps also love to be draped across them.

I also got the pleasure of observing heat lightning on my way home. A couple of the flashes looked bombs exploding in midair. Nature's fireworks can brighten up my day, even when questions such as "Are you feeling salty?" don't quite do the trick. Now it is still raging and some drums have joined the chorus. I really wish I had something more exciting to talk about, but the mutants aren't doing much, and I fear they are too busy celebrating the latest X-Men movie. Maybe tomorrow.

I keep hearing rumors, so I guess I should make the best of them. The most recent one is that this particular receptacle of hobbit wit (not nitwit though I could try to trap a few nitwits in the code to amuse you) has return visitors who aren't actively stalking me or trying to pass out on their keyboards. That warms my heart and my shoulders (okay, maybe that warmth is something else). This, of course, is a rumor from the staff lounge, and I am never sure how reliable those are since we don't have one of those fabled water coolers in there. All gossip is juicier and more real around a water cooler.

Other rumors that are ongoing in my world are the same old rumors that you've all heard about (or initiated) before from Fifi to my ambassadors. Fifi isn't announcing herself, but my ambassadors still assure the world of their verity. They're still wrong about their complete knowledge of me. Someday they will realize it. In the meantime, I am not going to put much effort into appeasing their needs or curiosity, since nothing exciting is going on besides the norm--paying of bills, wishing I didn't tend to expect too much of people around me, cat hair on my pillow, cat claws in my face, microfiche, LHRs, and projects a.k.a. job security.)

On a good note, today was payday. Indeed, I have already spent my paycheck, but knowing that for a few moments, I had more than a few odd cents in my account was gratifying. I almost feel rich. *looks around for a moment* Okay, I am rich. No one else has such priceless entertainment close at hand. I am awaiting another edition of Wednesday night RAW. However, despite being rich, I am not giving up my fabulous job and sexy fiche. Nor can I afford to give you my life. I know none of you has explicitly asked for it, but sometimes people act like they think they own me. I cost a bit more than a lollipop or a toy if I was to sell myself at all. Very few could pay the price, but if you think you know someone, please refer them to Ziggy. She has her boots and a Nancy Sinatra song primed and ready to go at all times. Have a sweet one, and if it isn't sweet, add some honey. That always livens things up when bees or Pooh happen to be around.

"No earthly authority can separate us from direct access to our Creator. There can never be a mechanical or electronic failure when we pray. There is no limit on the number of times or how long we can pray each day. There is no quota of how many needs we wish to pray for in each prayer. We do not need to go through secretaries or make an appointment to reach the throne of grace. He is reachable at any time and any place". ~James E. Faust (Ensign, May 2002, 59)