Once more I am proven wrong, I can be just as interesting as other people choose to make me. My phone helped me to realize that last night. I had sent out an e-mail in the hopes of exchanging information. I asked someone to inform a third party that I had no contact information for about some lost materials. I have often commented on my desire not to waste anything, so I made the comment to be helpful--for no other reason. Apparently, the recipient thought that my e-mail was meant to be rude, mean, or catty. Instead of asking me to clarify, she went to talk to a third party. The third party then called to leave me an abrasive message. The extent of this message was that I, apparently, am required to answer my phone whenever it rings, and she had been upset with me for months. None of this made sense she had many opportunities to mention the annoyance to me, and I can't answer the phone if it isn't near enough to hear. Also, I happened to be on another call that I couldn't just hang up on when she called, and I wasn't going to transfer over when I didn't know who was calling. Sometimes, people just want to be offended. I have to realize that and be careful to always pour out sunshine. Who could be mad at sunshine?

Of course, the fallout from this was that I had to apologize to two people who didn't deserve an apology. It is an amazing world where people can feel justified for being angry about things that were obviously not meant to offend them. One said the apology wasn't necessary. The other still tried to defend their misplaced anger. I am not sure you can really win when other people are being unreasonable. I know that when I am being unreasonable, I try to avoid other people so I don't go off on someone without cause.

My darling niece turned four years old today. It won't be too long before she is breaking hearts. Sadly, I wasn't able to make it to her birthday party. No one wants to go there for leftovers though. Last year, she decided she wanted to eat the icing off all the cupcakes. She probably would have moved onto the cake if she hadn't finally been noticed.

In honor of my niece, I feel I should make a top ten list.

TOP TEN TRUTHS OF CHILDHOOD

1. Dirt is one of the essential food groups.

2. Plastic food has never made anyone fat.

3. It's okay to share the sand with the strange baby in the sandbox.

4. If you can eat dessert first, go ahead.

5. Mommy and daddy will always make it better in the long run.

6. Grandparents are there to spoil you. That's why you smell bad. (Though it could be because you just made a stinky...)

7. The best toys are the ones that are free like cardboard boxes and rocks.

8. Hide and seek isn't for sissies...

9. ...neither is tag.

10. When your parents run errands with you in tow, you deserve a lollipop.

As I had a pumpkin donut today, I have begun to reflect on the phenomenon that we call fall or autumn. Despite the profluence of scarecrows for sale at all the local stores, the weather still hasn't really cooled down enough to think of pumpkin pies and Halloween costumes. I still haven't committed to any one idea. I could always just produce something from my closet to wear, but would that be fair to my loyal fans?

In other news, I have already finished a third of my self-imposed quota of names for familysearch this month. I wonder if this means I should do more names or devote some time to some of the other projects that await my attention. Someday, I might just have to start taking pictures of these projects as I finish them and post them somewhere...

I like waking up in the morning with my husband by my side. Sadly, that doesn't happen on too many Mondays because he leaves for work before I drag myself into total wakefulness. Today was one of the fortunate mornings. Conversations with other people reminded me how lucky I am to have real love and appreciate it.

My husband commented last night that he sometimes can't believe this isn't just a dream. Despite the problems that all couples face, we still focus on the important fact that we have each other and we know what it is to be truly loved.

My brother also related a cute story about my niece. Apparently, she remembers my wedding about nine and a half months ago. She informed someone that she remembered being a princess in my wedding and that my wedding was forever. Children tend to see things clearly, don't they?

The truest love is one for which you are willing to fight. Indeed, it may sweep you off your feet, but not just because you think your old love is too much work. I find myself amazed by people who go searching for true love when they already had it. Sadly, we live in a world where people still expect the fairy tale. They aren't happy with someone who helps support them financially, emotionally, and spititually, so they go looking for something better. When you already have someone who loves you as you are, you aren't going to do better. I am glad that I can see that and that I married the right person...

Everyone knows someone who personifies that old adage, "Misery loves company." They tend to be people who love to tell you over and over and over how wonderful their life is with a sour look on their face and not an ounce of gratitude for their blessings in their hearts. They want what they can't have and don't care who they hurt to get it. Most of the time, the person they hurt most is the person they are claiming they are doing these things for.

It probaly wouldn't annoy me so much if I didn't see it so often. I see people weaving fairy tales about how wonderful their life is going to be when they accomplish this one goal. It doesn't matter what that goal is. They post it as the only item on their "to do" list and everything else fades away. They neglect their kids, their spouses, their school, and their jobs because once they reach that goal, none of it will matter will it?

Sometimes, they just do things to be spiteful because whatever that goal was/is could never make them as happy as they claim it would. They make false reports about other people to mutual friends, figures of authority, and anyone else who will listen. They seem to think that if they can't have the fairy tale happy ending, they need to make sure other people get eaten by bureacratic ogres.

And most of the time, someone gets caught in the middle of the tug of war. Someone is trying to just live and love people who reject them, neglect them, and certainly don't appreciate what it is like to be truly loved. Seriously, what does it say about us when we claim we love someone but don't see that we are hurting them (and usually ourselves). Maybe I should write a self-help book about appreciating the little things in life. Am I qualified? I might be. I grew up with the ability to appreciate hand-me-downs, dirty rocks, and the many things you can create from dental floss.

In the meantime, I'm just going to keep hoping that people realize that their selfishness doesn't even make them happy in the end.

So today was Monday the thirteenth all over again, wasn't it? So many people dislike Friday the thirteenth, but I can't have bad feelings about a Friday. After all, we all know that I share Garfield's distaste for Mondays and his love for lasagna. So why was today such a terrible Mondayesque day?

It had the promise to be a good day. I had a cat date with a friend's cats. Two of them are black and two of them are Siamese. Despite my history of being hated by Siamese cats, I was reassured that these two are love bugs. How could I resist that?

I quickly realized that this date was going to need to be cancelled when I walked out to the yodamobile and noticed something amiss. The back tire on the driver's side was more than a little low. This resulted in a harried phone call to the husband and the resolution to replace said tire with a donut and visit Manny, Moe, and Jack. It sounds so simple, but nothing is ever that simple when it involves me and my cars.

After jumping up and down on the lugwrench, I finally convinced all five lugnuts to relinquish the tire. However, the wheelwell (or whatever it is called) refused to be so kind. I hugged the tire and pulled. I whacked the tire with the wrench, a hammer, and even kicked it roughly from both sides. All these demonstrations of force earned no love. I also failed to get any reaction from the tire when I begged, "Please, please, please come" and "Don't make me treat you like an Omni!" I finally resolved begging a kind gentleman who was working on the neighbor's driveway to assist me. A bigger hammer and a stronger person finally convinced the tire to come free. A little more fun with the lugwrench which resulted in one aching palm and a minor abrasion on my wrist and I was ready to drive my car down the road.

Of course, I spent most of the trip watching lights turn red. This gave me plenty of time to ponder the probability that I had not tightened the lignuts enough and the donut might fly off into traffic. Luckily, most of my super crazy worries are simply that. I made it safely to my destination where my tires were replaced and rotated as needed. One can't help but wonder what excitement awaits me on my next Tuesday the fourteenth...

If my reflexes deteriorate, I am going to be in serious trouble in social settings. I say this because I almost ran over a defenseless senate candidate when I turned around too fast. I didn't eat enough sugar to use a sweet high as an excuse for this behavior, so I would have to blame impatience. Anyone who knows me is well aware of my issues. My other observations for this evening include a new fascination with why another lady at the dinner tonight put sugar in her ice water and how a particular pair of pants were constructed. I controlled my urges to inspect them up close. I figure I am better off without being accused of sexual harrassment by a complete stranger. My wives and ladies, however, can accuse me of such with a smile at any time.

The sluggishness of my reflexes continues to make my life somewhat more interesting. This morning I was carrying on a rather interesting conversation as I made some delicious, fudgy cookies. The recipe calls for flipping the parchment paper around halfway through the baking cycle. A second of inattention led to the occurence that caused my facebook status to declare "Annabella was reminded of the importance of caution in the kitchen when a gooey, fudgy, fresh-from-the-oven cookie landed on her bare, little hobbit foot ;)" and the follow up comment "Perhaps I shouldn't have added the ;) but the cookies are so delicious that the pain is worth it!" I tried not to yelp into the phone, asking the person on the other end to hold on as I yelped in pain and reached for a paper towel. For future reference, warm, half-baked cookies are incredibly sticky. My husband rushed to my assistance as my cries of pain continued for a little while. He even cleaned up the mess on the floor. Luckily, only one of the cookies was wasted, but I shall be more wary in the future because I fear the cookies may be out to get revenge. I hope someone warns the cookie monster.

Another delicious pain that people seem to be attracted to is continuing to love people after they have proven rather unlovable. I do not believe I am alone in caring about people who hurt me, use me, and want me to watch them destroy themselves in search of something they already have--love. I have met very few people who are not loved by at least one person. Many are grateful for the love of a parent, grandparent, sibling or spouse. Other's put their fingers in the their ears, close their eyes, and tell the one who loves them that they are not feeling loved. They then begin seeking love elsewhere, convincing themself that real love has to be a challenge and hurting people around them.

That tends to lead to another form of delicious pain--worrying about love. We worry about that which is beyond our control. This tends to be one of my vices. If I figure out how to steer clear of it, I will write a self-help book.

A few more notes on my weekend: I love cookies too much for my own good. My husband is wonderful. I think I miss my kitties even though they are evil. I need to finish even more of my crazy projects. I tend to be right when I think someone is building up to ask me for something...

Halloween is coming. I am well-stocked on costumes, so I don't have to worry about making appropriate attire, but other people seem to trust me enough to ask for my input. The fact that perfect strangers want my advice does tend to disturb me. I made a trip to the fabric store to select fabric through careful tests of draping, touching, and fanning out with the light behind it. I was balancing piles of paper and fabric while trying to perform these tests when my assistance was requested by one of the perfect strangers I alluded to.

A tall black gentleman was playing with the pleather and other shiny fabrics behind me. As it is almost Halloween and I have never felt the need to question men who have an interest in such fabrics, I continued contemplating the differences between two of the fabrics before me. My cloak of invisibility failed me in that instance, however. I found myself being asked about the fabric and informed me that he was a former stripper and the love of his life wanted a private show. I found this to be too much information but an amusing tale to share, so I tried not to blush as I smiled and tried to be helpful. I am not sure I succeeded in not blushing, but he continued to ask me questions, so I must have sounded like I knew what I was talking about.

In order to not bring too much stress upon myself, I made sure that the pink quilt I was making with scraps of fabris got finished this evening as I watched Army of Darkness and Bring It on Again. You have to admit that my movie choices made it clear that I am preparing for the best time of the year. It's a straight shot to sugary goodness from October to December. Then we resolve not to do that again next year...