Note to self.

My love of lists is starting to take over. I am leaving trails from the grocery store to the beach...hey, at least I will be able to find my way home. The Big Guy has even taken to calling me "Miss Listy List" (I should be thrilled, it could be so much worse). Now if I could just combine it with my creativity I could start making art (I promise to make it more interesting than this). My dirty little secret is that I have started making lists of the lists that I need to make. Perhaps I should just do what needs to be done instead of writing about it. Nah, it's better that I share my insanity with those around me...if I put X's through some of the items, it will at least look like I am getting something done!

A little glamour...a little glitz.

What could be better on a beautiful August night? It may not be Red Rocks, but where else can you see an outdoor concert with bears growling in the back ground (an the wind...I mean the Bug Guy blowing in my ear)? Old friends, new friends (like my date Cindy) and my favorite squeeze (I'll let that remain a secret) swaying in the fresh air to the crooning of Chris Isaak at the MN Zoo. Who knew? Evidently a lot of people-the place was sold out. I just happen to be lucky enough (and home) when my girlfriend called and offered me an extra ticket. Well, it took me all of about 3 seconds to say, "Whoo hoo, when do we leave?" This was just the "medicine" I needed to renew myself...now I know I can make it to September 2nd...when everyday at 8:20 (bus time) I'll be cranking the tunes and throwing my own dance party.

Calling all football fans.

Shhh...don't tell anyone. A fourth Manning brother has been spotted. He is being raised in a small somewhat rural, but still kind of funky and hip town by an unsuspecting couple. It is even rumored that the "father" is coaching this youngest Manning in youth football. Stay tuned for further developments...and remember this info is not for public knowledge...yet.

Who's addicted?

I have to say, there is something about the olympics that just sucks me in. I am not in the regular habit of watching TV (I honestly don't even know who McDreamy is and when my mom and the Big Guy get together and start talking sleuths and psychics my eyes glaze over), but since 8.8.08 I've clocked enough hours to make the best couch potato jealous. Do they call them bed sores if they come from a couch? Actually they might have to call mine shoe sores as I am usually watching on the run...or running in between. It's like a real life fantasy. Super human people (the littlest Wild One cannot believe they are "really for real") that are regular people...like the 41 year old mom swimmer...hmmm. And then bring on the competition. I sit, or stand, in front of the TV screaming, "GO MICHAEL," or "GO USA." I get a little crazy-who knew? Oh and then there are the medal ceremonies...get out the kleenex. I sniffle at the national anthem...every time. To be fair, I also sniffle at the family commercials and even at a few that have nothing to do with the olympics. Kind of makes me want to get out there and learn a new sport (or walk around wearing my marathon medal)...or maybe just teach one to the Wild Ones...or perhaps sign them up for something and let someone else teach them. Maybe I'll just get another tattoo.

Me and my big mouth.

We were out yesterday enjoying a warm sunny day at the local "Corn Days" festival. After claiming enough candy to load three suburban houses for Halloween, we proceeded to the food and games area. We ate our fill of corn, talked to more "old friends" than we ought to even have and somewhat patiently waited in line for all the games. As we were leaving we decided to tackle the rock wall, that is the two tiny Wild Ones and me. The Big Guy was daring people to the top and I just happened to say "I'd do it" all cocky like. I didn't say "Yes, I want to do it right now. Please go buy me a ticket." Geez, you'd think after all these years he'd understand my language. What I really was saying was, "Hey that kind of looks like fun. If I was in the right mood I might consider trying that some day." Too late, he had already snuck off to buy tickets. I figured I'd just act like it was all cool and I'd go in with the Wild Ones, beat them to the top and then sit back and watch them struggle...I mean encourage them to the top. So they get all strapped in and the very handsome attendant with the sexy smile...I mean if you were looking and happened to notice...which I did...and he was...came over to strap me in. Now let me just tell you these things strap snugly around your waist and in between your legs. So he is crouched down in front of me ready to strap me in and I say, "So do you have a huge one?" obviously referring to the size of the harness. He looked up at me and smiled...the light bulb went off in my head, my eyes got big and I almost fainted...I could have handled it except for that damn sexy smile. One very rare (and red) moment of silence from me. He had no problem adjusting my straps and even gave me some tips on mounting the wall. I'm not sure if I was dizzy from my encounter or just afraid of heights, but I only made it half way up the wall (twice) and had to stand...shaking...on the sidelines as I watched not one, but both of the Wild One's scale their way to the top.