The House Is Party-Clean!

I'm ready, ya'll. D and D are stopping by tomorrow-day. They just moved into their own apartment and they requested towels for a housewarming present.
This has an interesting story behind it. D and D are both young, She is 17 and he is 19. They are a great young couple, they are actually two of my favorite people, and they are learning about independence as we speak. They have decent work ethics, they are funny as can be, and I watched them grow up. That puts them in a special place in my heart.
The girl, D, and her sister T, when they were younger, came to visit me often, and I kept them on the payroll as they had chores. The three girls were latchkey kids with a single mom. One time, I found makeup smudges on my favorite Turkish towels. I was nice about it, I just asked the girls to please use one of a thousand washcloths to remove their makeup, DO Not wipe your mascara on my towels. It was something I felt they needed to learn. But I also understand why it upset them, they didn't know any better. Afterwards, they started showing almost obsessive reverence for my stuff. I also always had strict "rules" about borrowing stuff. If you borrow, you announce what time/what day you will return that item. If that item is not returned, you may not borrow anything else until said item is returned or explained or replaced. You know, the standard ettiquette. I taught them this. But they always thought the TOWEL issue was a little much.
D & D are setting up house now. They went to the store to get some essentials with their Christmas money. They saw the price of decent bathtowels. She calls me and reminds me of the towel incident and said she never realized how much towels cost, gosh, she always thought they were just... Towels! And that's what she wants for her housewarming present. (I told her to wait post-Christmas, then let me know what she really needs.)

I'm sooo doing the happy dance.

MsAmber

Thank Your Systems Administrator

The Blonde Antelope

This is just downright funny.
MsAmber

Annual O.C.D. Festival - At My House

Okay. Forgive me for not writing. I've been busy. I know, you are going to say you've heard that before, but truly: I have been busy. The end of December, my body gets these surges of hormones or something that makes me look like I'm on speed. All of a sudden: nothing is clean enough. I cleaned the stove and the ovens, I shampooed the entire house. I shampooed the couch even under the cushions. I moved ALL the furniture. Here's where it really gets creepy... I cleaned and reorganized the under sink areas in the house. I threw away all my saved bottles of shampoo and conditioner (after I mated them into one bottle of each). I re-organized the drawers in the bathroom. All the combs are laying in one direction. All Hair-do-dads are organized by type. The makeup drawer has everything layed out in one layer, organized by type. The kitchen has a ledge around the top all the way around, upon which sits 6 champagne flutes, 12 wine glasses, 5 hi-ball glasses and 5 shot glasses. I washed them all and hand dried them all and put them back up on a cleaned ledge. When I got home today, I had a strange compulsion to do the same with the silverware drawers. AAAAAAHHHHH!
Somebody Help!
I do this every damn year. When will it stop? My back hurts, my hands are raw, my nails are down to the quick, and I have the attention span of a chicken.
This is a severe hormone problem, I think. It's gotta be.
Anybody else feelin' it?

MsAmber

I hate being a blonde.

I burn easily. I always have a red sunburn stripe across my nose and cheeks, sometimes the top of my chin.

My hair is fine, so it gets oily easily. I just drive with the vent open in my car and my hair goes limp.

When I was pulling cable, I used to get in some pretty tight spaces,
sometimes my hair would get caught in stuff, I even had an adventure once where I was almost stuck with my hair under my knee.

Then, I bought a motorcycle. I got real good at throwing my hair up in a french braid. I didn't even look in the mirror. We would be leaving a bar and I would take about 15 seconds to pull up a french braid and I'm outta here.

One day, I got the idea to CUT it into a shag. Thinking: It won't tangle if it's a good shag, and it will give it more body. BIG mistake

Motorcycle riding was the worst. It would tangle sooo badly on the top,
I cried to brush it. What an awful experience.

Right at this time: the end of the shag phase, I was about to meet my future husband. He had seen a picture of me with the long blonde hair.

In preparation for our "Date", I went to the beauty parlor and asked them to cut my hair and feather it.
Rob was a little upset when we met. Especially when I told him that I had just cut it.

Well, he married me anyway, with one condition: that I let my hair grow long.

It's long again. It gets stuck in the drain if I try to wash it in a sink. It is hard to brush, I can't comb it when it's wet. It's shiny, but not very "healthy" (If there truly is such a thing.)

I must admit, I have either no imagination or too much imagination. I can't settle on a good unobtrusive modern hairstyle. Sometimes I may do the twist and clip in the back, but it's too long for that now. It doesn't look good unless I curl the ends of my hair.
Hairspray is out. I hate the stuff, it's poison, and I refuse to depend on it. It doesn't wash out of my hair, and it makes it tangle too badly. I only use hairspray on special occasions.

If anybody has any ideas, I would be happy to consider them. What can you do with long hair?

MsAmber

Honey, We Have To Talk.

Ok, I've been fighting a little cold, but still working. I have a sore throat and I talk like I've been eating chalk. Usually, I stay awake until my husband gets home after 10:00. But not last night. I went to bed about 9:15. Rob came in and shook me gently and said "Honey, We Have To Talk".

Oh no! I'm thinking, "What did I do? Is the car wrecked? Did somebody die?"

He said, "Remember when we said there would be no more dogs?"
(Huh?)
"Yeah, well, we have an opportunity to get a really great German Shepherd pup."
(How old is it?)
"Under a year-old."
(Why? Who's getting rid of it?)
"Nephew J. Remember? It's the dog he's been talking about."
(Where is the dog? In Florida?)
"No, it's out at the farm. They brought her with them."
(She been fixed?)
"No."
(What about Megabyte. We can't get him fixed now, he's too old?)
"We'll get her fixed."
(Okay, whatever, cool. Goodnight.)

So, the exchange has happened, and we have a 9 month old female German Shepherd, with a pedigree and all the accompanying bloodlines, outrageous name, and stack of vet bills and pills. Apparently, pedigree dogs go to the vet quite often.

But She is beautiful. Very smart. Right now, VERY restless. She's pacing in and out. The temperature today is in the 60's so I have the house opened up with the backdoor open. She is a very messy drinker, also. We have two big watering dishes, one inside and one out. She paws at them. Not cool. And then drools a lot like a labrador.

And she's already had her first obedience semester. This one is going to take a lot of strong handling at first, She doesn't listen unless you "Bark" commands at her.
She understood me just fine when I yelled "Out! Out! Out!" and pointed to the door.

She'll be a great dog when we're done. Rob and I have some good techniques when it comes to training our animals.
If we can just keep Megabyte off of her till we can get it handled. Unless anyone wants a Blue Merle Australian Cattle Dog with German Shepherd mixed puppies. They would make some awesome offspring.

MsAmber

What A Horrid Human I Am!

I should be ashamed of myself. What an awful thing I have done!
The little mouse game that I linked on December 17th has claimed another couple of victims. This time, here at my home.
My nephew J. and his wife L., and the three boys - 7, 3, and 1 year old, have been visiting us from 'out of town'. I told L about the trick I had played on the blogosphere and we browsed there. She paused and asked me if it was too scary for the kids, I said "Naw, it's not that bad."
Oh, how I regret that...
When we got to level three, the oldest boy was leaning on her shoulder, his middle brother was behind, with no real view of the monitor, and the volume was pretty high.
When the poltergeist popped up and screamed, everyone spazzed. They all screamed with it, the oldest boy flung himself backwards on his butt, his little brother belly flopped right on top of him. They were both shirtless. I swear, it took a half an hour to calm them down. I really tried to stifle myself, but dammit, it was funny as could be! I laughed so hard, I think I pulled a rib muscle.
Really, I didn't think they were too young for that, (the baby was in the bedroom taking a nap). And it was expected. Everyone knew something scary was going to happen.
I hope I didn't terrify them too badly.
Oh gosh, I feel just terrible about it.
I am such a horrid person because I'm still laughing!

Oy, You know you want to learn to play Dreidel...

Hanukkah falls on the 26th of December this year, so here is a little game that I know you've heard of, but probably never knew how to play.

I printed this dreidel on photo paper, and it was the perfect density. Then, I printed the instructions for play.

Traditionally, the children are given Hanukkah Geldt, which are foil-covered chocolate coins. They use these to play with. The candy section of the drugstore has the little bags of chocolate coins for .50 cents.

Anyway, just in case you want to try it, I think you will enjoy the game.

MsAmber

My Apologies, ha ha ha ha haaa.

First Off - I must tell you how much I enjoyed that last post. I don't think I could've planned it better. Every time I checked my comments, it just cracked me up. I sit here blogging, drinking my coffee and keeping an eye on the television via a mirror next to the monitor. All of a sudden I start cackling, having imagined the expression on the face of my latest victim. Usually I am alone when I have these 'episodes', but Saturday night was an exception. After I went to bed, I still had the giggles.

1st victim: Timmer. Reminds me of my father-in-law, you know the type: Ex military, gray hair, still walks on his treadmill for 50 miles a week. Reads the newspaper (in paper form), lives to drive a golf cart, and owns a nice Z-71 with OnStar and leather seats (total waste of a good truck). Still has his old Cadillac in the garage.

2nd victim: Fightin'MadMary. I've already seen a picture of her face while playing in traffic. She's kinda girly - not in a bad way, but manicured fingers and membership to the Triple-A. The look on her face in my mind was priceless. I'll betcha she swore.

3rd victim: Flubberwinkle. A really cool Greek techy lady. She probably rolled her eyes at it and me. Maybe emailed the link to a few of her antagonists.

4th victim: Crusher. He is working on a plot to get even. And that's like tickling my fanny with a feather. Ha ha.

Now, for the rest of you, I'm truly sorry you were put through that. It was worth it though, for the weeks' worth of giggles I've gotten out of it.

Thank you, Thank you very much.

MsAmber

Testing Your Mouse Prowess

I'm normally a keyboard person. I use my up arrows and down arrows. Ctrl+ C, X, V to copy, cut, or paste. The software package that I support is designed to be keyboard friendly. All the function keys are mapped and everything is hot-keyed. You can use the mouse also, if you need. The scheduler is not very navigable without the mouse. That's about the only limitation.

So I took this test to see how well I used the mouse. I can't draw a straight line in 'mspaint' to save my azz. I made it to level 4. See how far you can go:

http://www.winterrowd.com/maze.swf

MsAmber

I Stole This From Another Blog

I found this while reading around and I was impressed. It is reminiscent of Benjamin Franklin's writing. This is why I believe, although the social rules were completely different, the Men of the 1700's were definitely better educated. They appreciated books and good writing skills. I recently sought out and read "The Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin and Other Writings". Did you know, among other accomplishments, Franklin was directly responsible for founding the first Library in the U.S. and the first newspaper?

George Washington, sometime before the age of 16, transcribed "Rules of Civility & Decent Behaviour In Company and Conversation".
(Original errors in numbering have been corrected; original spelling is unchanged.)

1st Every Action done in Company, ought to be with Some Sign of Respect, to those that are Present.
3d Shew Nothing to your Freind that may affright him.
14th Turn not your Back to others especially in Speaking, Jog not the Table or Desk on which Another reads or writes, lean not upon any one.
19th let your Countenance be pleasant but in Serious Matters Somewhat grave.
20th The Gestures of the Body must be Suited to the discourse you are upon.
21st: Reproach none for the Infirmaties of Nature, nor Delight to Put them that have in mind thereof.
22d Shew not yourself glad at the Misfortune of another though he were your enemy.
24th Do not laugh too loud or too much at any Publick Spectacle.
25th Superfluous Complements and all Affectation of Ceremonie are to be avoided, yet where due they are not to be Neglected.
39th In writing or Speaking, give to every Person his due Title According to his Degree & the Custom of the Place.
43d Do not express Joy before one sick or in pain for that contrary Passion will aggravate his Misery.
44th When a man does all he can though it Succeeds not well blame not him that did it.
45th Being to advise or reprehend any one, consider whether it ought to be in publick or in Private; presently, or at Some other time in what terms to do it & in reproving Shew no Sign of Cholar but do it with all Sweetness and Mildness.
49th Use no Reproachfull Language against any one neither Curse nor Revile.
56th Associate yourself with Men of good Quality if you Esteem your own Reputation; for 'tis better to be alone than in bad Company.
65th Speak not injurious Words neither in Jest nor Earnest Scoff at none although they give Occasion.
66th Be not forward but friendly and Courteous; the first to Salute hear and answer & be not Pensive when it's a time to Converse.
67th Detract not from others neither be excessive in Commanding.
73d Think before you Speak pronounce not imperfectly nor bring out your Words too hastily but orderly & distinctly.
79th Be not apt to relate News if you know not the truth thereof. In Discoursing of things you Have heard Name not your Author always A Secret Discover not.
80th Be not Tedious in Discourse or in reading unless you find the Company pleased therewith.
81st Be not Curious to Know the Affairs of Others neither approach those that Speak in Private.
82d undertake not what you cannot perform but be carefull to keep your promise.
83d when you deliver a matter do it without passion & with discretion, however mean the person be you do it too.
89th Speak not Evil of the absent for it is unjust.
110th Labour to keep alive in your Breast that Little Spark of Celestial fire Called Conscience.
Source: History.org

And it was very hard not to fix the spelling.

MsAmber

Trying To Explain My Mother

This is one of only two pictures I have of my Mother.

She was brilliant. A career student, but she always quit before she got a degree or certificate. She liked learning, and was always on the Dean's list. Straight 4.0, Word.
She had a photographic memory. She blamed it for her mental problems, said she could never forget.
This was Easter Sunday, 1983.
See the poster on the wall beside the front door? We hung it there to cover up a hole. She shot from the top of the stairs one night, when she thought someone was breaking in our house. When we woke up at the gunshot, she accused us of having put one in the chamber. I promise, we didn't, but she always had to blame mistakes on anyone else but herself.
It left a tiny hole in the wall inside the house, but the outside of the house had a huge exit hole, so we covered it up with a poster. We would change out the poster when it started looking faded. Didn't want the landlord to know she shot a hole in the wall, and it was unmistakably from a gun.
Mother had mental problems. As long as I had known her, she had always sported evidence of a drastic slashing to her wrists. These weren't little unsure scars, they were deep and there were perhaps 20 on each wrist. I asked her once if she ever considered suicide. She looked me right in the eyes and said she was too mean for that, she would just as soon kill everybody else than to try to kill herself. I believed her.
Growing up with her was always an adventure. We ran from place to place. Always afraid of the Social Services coming to get us. We lived for a while on a commune in Summertown Tennessee. It was vegetarian food, homespun clothes, kids working in the fields, and brainwashing. She couldn't take too much of that. We left in our stolen stationwagon and went to the first Burger Hut we could find and ate the BEST hamburgers of our lives.
We lived in the woods in Harts Run State Park. I remember a certain Mother's Day, the weather turned bad and some other campers decided to pack it in. They gave Mom the steaks that were in their cooler. She proudly brought them to our camp. We cooked them with the frog-gig that was in the toolbox, and ate them with our pocketknives on the end of a stump. She said it was the best Mother's day present ever.
We abandoned the stolen stationwagon there in the park.
We moved into a little apartment above an apothecary shop in White Sulphur Springs, WV. Mom made a deal with a little antique shop to pay $5.00 a week for an old sewing machine. Then she hitchhiked to Lewisburg and got a whole bunch of scrap linen and scrap lace.
She sewed all day and night. She made cuptowels and pillowcases out of the linen with lace borders. She sent my brother and I out to sell them. We went door-to-door and sold every single set for $7.00 each. We had our pathetic little faces and we told everybody that our mom made them so we could pay rent. We could sell as many as she could make.
We stayed in White Sulphur Springs for about a year. Meanwhile, she was applying for student loans at colleges all over.
We went to Bluefield and they rejected her because she wasn't black. They assumed by her name that she was black and were ready to take her.
We went to Elkins to the Davis & Elkins College. Mom made my brother and I be a part of her entrance interview. She wrote about our experiences at the Commune, and let the people interview us for our particular opinions. She got in.
So, we disappeared in the middle of the night from White Sulphur Springs, and started a new life in Elkins.
Now, the next maneuver was pure genius. I wouldn't believe it if I hadn't lived it.
We got a room at a nice little room and board in an affluent neighborhood. The blue house in this picture was directly across the street. Mom made great efforts to make us all look presentable. She wore pretty skirt-suits and put her hair up in the bee-hive (which I hadn't seen her do since the '70s). And started shmoozing with all the old ladies. She inquired about the big blue house and found out that the president of the bank was taking care of it for his sister. So she unbuttoned one of her top buttons and made her appointment with him. She negotiated the house for $500.00 per month. We moved in.
It was HUGE. Wood floors, three stories, fireplace, sunroom. And us, we didn't have a pot to piss in. The old ladies that mom made it a point to gossip with, were told that our furniture was being moved and would arrive on a certain date. My brother and I were always to back mom up in any of her lies, and I wondered how she would pull this off. Finally, the day came and went and we had no furniture. Mom put on quite a show. She cried and went into hysterics. The moving men had stolen all our stuff, her babies' christening gowns, her baby grand piano, all her pictures and family heirlooms, everything was gone. Boo Hoo.
They bought the story lock, stock and barrel. The donations were incredible. We got two couches, two refrigerators, washer and dryer, beds, clothes, drapes, money, more stuff than we knew what to do with. When we were done picking out what we wanted, there were garbage bags full we stored in one of the spare bedrooms.
Some of you are going to raise an eyebrow and say: That was wrong.
Some of you are going to say, "Wow, wish I'd have thought of that."
My mother and I began a war after this. She didn't tolerate disloyalty. As long as I was under her care, I was to do as I was told and never contradict her.
I had to be taught that lesson over and over, and it only got worse as I got older and had a mind of my own. Especially when she would let me take the rap for something she did, or blame me when she got caught in a lie. I grew to hate being her kid. I wished I belonged to any other family but mine.
This little story covers the years 1981-1983.

When I was 10...

Wow, look what I found.

This was when I was 10 years old. My school picture from Chattanooga, Tennessee.
It was the year 1980.My mother had us approaching people on the corner and telling them to vote for Ronald Reagan. Uncle Ronnie, we called him.
We didn't live there very long, but I do remember getting enrolled for a few months in jazz/tap/gymnastics.
I fell off the balance beam and got a nosebleed, and my mom had to hitchhike to the gym to see if I was alright. (That was the end of my gymnastics career.)
She came right away, and checked me out, and told them I would be fine and she was taking me home.
We left the gym, and walked up the street. Meanwhile we were talking; I had a birthday coming up and she wanted to know what I wanted. I told her that I wanted a REAL watch. Small and silver, with hands and a wind-up dial. I remember the look of surprise on her face, like she was impressed. Then she hitched us a ride home.
I don't know HOW she did it, but she managed to buy (and pay dearly, I'm sure) a beautiful Timex. When I opened the box, I started crying. It was exactly what I dreamt of. It was a ladies' watch. It was silver and oval and it had a silver band. I was so proud of that watch. The band broke a few years later and it went into that bottomless pit called: "I'll keep it for you."
But I really loved that watch.
And I never completely knew how, but I always appreciated the effort it must've taken my mother to get that for me.

Most of you are going to think this is a sweet story, but there is much that is left unsaid.

March 23rd, 2003. My mother shot herself in the head with a .38 thus robbing us all of the opportunity to make peace with her.

I can't believe I've written something about my mother...

MsAmber

HA! When I was 19...

I-could-kick-everybody's-azz!
I worked on my own truck. The one behind me I paid $600.00 for it. 3speed standard on the column, manual steering, tool-bed with ladder racks.
I'd been on my own for over three years and I knew what I was doing.
I was in Control.
I dipped Copenhagen.
I rode horses.
I hated authority.
I hated drunks and drug addicts.
I carried a gun in my jeans.
I could lift anything, Do anything,
Go anywhere I pleased.
I had hillbilly sensibilities:
I could kill it, clean it, cook it, and eat it.
I could live in the woods and survive off the land.

I saved seeds and put them in labelled envelopes.

I would steal any animal that was being abused, and find a better home for it.
I was certain that I would have occasion to use my gun if anybody tried to hurt me.
I traded my Bear Whitetail Left-handed compound bow for a new set of brakes.
I almost shot a guy for saying I looked like I got my clothes out of a dumpster.
When my truck was broke down, I used my thumb to get around.
I went to jail for 72 hours each 5 times for hitchhiking. Three were in Texas - they kept my gun.

I could get a job simply by walking up to a construction site and asking to be a laborer, promising that I could outwork the slobs they got leaning on brooms outside, and I always did.
My favorite T-Shirt was black with a skull on the front wearing a confederate flag headband.
I wore a bandana around my left thigh.
I always wore workboots, and I LOVED camo pants. I had a real appreciation for good workgloves also.
I always carried a very good pocketknife- sharp.
I always had extra shirts on. Two or three anyway.
I could really hustle the drunks at a pool-table. I hated drunks anyway.
My favorite denim jacket had battery acid holes and smelled like used engine oil and smoke from a woodburning stove. It weighed about 5 pounds.
I thought electricity is something that you get turned on for the winter, and let it get shut off in the summer.
I drained the old oil out of the truck to put in the chainsaw, because you never waste new oil on a chainsaw.
I always pulled over and changed old-folks' tires on the side of the road. 'Cuz I got a system and I'm done in less than 10 minutes. (more like 7 minutes)
I always kept a 2 ton floor jack in my truck because I don't like, understand, or trust the (bottle jack, scissor jack, bumper jack) contraptions that come standard in most cars.
I'd never had air conditioning in my life. Not in a vehicle or house. But I always had a CB.
I understood heating very well. Oil burners, Gas, Coal, Wood, coal-fired boilers. I could light them and troubleshoot problems. Blower motors, thermocouplings, air in the lines, etc.
I could lay roofing, hang siding, rewire electrical outlets or fixtures, I knew torque, plumb/flush/level, and balls-on-top-dead-center. I "collected" Snap-On tools. (It weren't my fault if YOU left them laying around.)
I could create some variation of Biscuits and Gravy (gravy with anything else: biscuits, crackers, whitebread, noodles) out of any empty and destitute kitchen.
I washed my hair in Ivory bar soap, and brushed my teeth with salt or baking soda. I had no cavities.

I thought insurance was a government conspiracy to keep us poor. If you don't have insurance, then you can't drive, if you can't drive, you can't work... I wrote "Farm Use Only" on the side of my truck to get around having to buy insurance.

I am an Appalachian-American!

I'm sure glad I survived my teenage years and lived to tell about it.
But I'm also sure that I've gotten dumber as I've gotten older.

MsAmber

Two Techies in the Same House... Run For Your Lives!

Answer: Yes, you can. Just call Rob-N-MsAmber.

Ok. A little background is needed.

Any time I put two pieces of technology together in this house, it is fondly nicknamed: MsAmber's Frankenstein.

In 2001, I networked this entire house, bathrooms included, to a central closet which houses our cable modem, router, a 10/100 Mbps switch, and our patch panel. I put up a distribution block for telephone also.
Then, we decided we wanted a way to control all the speakers in the house. So I put speaker faceplates all over the house, running to the closet with a speaker switch, then a feed to the amp.
Then we decided we wanted a way to play the MP3s on the computer in the backroom through the amp, so I ran a special cable that converts from a soundcard to an RCA input into the amp.
Then we decided we wanted to use the old laptop (the monitor screen went kaput), as a component in our entertainment center. So we got a converter that allows the video out to go into the amp and thus to the TV. Now we can play MP3s on the laptop, blast it through all the speakers in the house, and watch the visualizations or screensaver on our TV. I can start a NetMeeting from here to control the laptop, start my songlist, set the visualization, go full screen, and it's good.
Now, we are getting a wireless keyboard to control the laptop, which will use the usb hub.
So the components are: Amp, DVR, DVD/VCR combo, laptop, video converter, usb hub, card reader, mini-disk player, TV and 6 speakers.
My current challenge is trying to get everything to utilize the S-video. We are buying a 52 inch DLP Television in the Spring, and I will have to reconfigure it all to take the composite video outputs then.
Will this ever end?

MsAmber

Wisdom From Granny Clampett

Ms. Daisy Moses aka: Granny Clampett, real name Irene Ryan.

She was a woman 'way ahead of her time and a really cool old bird, at that.

Born in 1902 in San Antonio Texas, and died in Los Angeles in 1982.

There were a few verbal gems that were uttered by her character on "The Beverly Hillbillies" that I would like to share with you.

Wisdom By Granny...
"If ya can't sleep, it's cuz yer kitchen floor ain't clean. Git up and scrub that kitchen floor, you'll sleep like a baby when yer through."

"Elly May! Don't spit from a moving vehicle. You gotta wait till it's stopped."

Granny: "Remember what William Jennings Bryan said, "fight hard but fight clean!"
Jethro: "But you ain't fightin' clean Granny!"
Granny: "Course I ain't, William Jennings Bryan was a loser!"

She thinks she's talkin' to someone....ain't even a cord there..hee hee hee...

MsAmber

My Husband - Romeo Whiskey

This is my wonderful, handsome, loving, caring, adoring, funny, smart, tall, wheelie-ridin', sky-diving, bar-b-que-ing, airplane flying Husband.

He's my FlyBoy. (wink wink)

His handle is Romeo-Whiskey, and the little blue biotch he's with is Juliet.

Seriously though. From the time I met my husband, he told me how he loves to fly. He also said that everyone had discouraged it in the past, and that if he knew then what he knows now he would have taken lessons and gotten his license.

I told him to go for it, man.
He tried to give me a bunch of "but,.. but,.. buts".
I told him it was OK. We can afford it; we aren't wealthy by any stretch of the imagination, but we're doing fine.

So he did. I've never seen such dedication. He has read day and night, he hangs out with the old-timers at the airport whenever he can. I am just so impressed. For the last two years he has done this. He has worked at the airport to get extra hours of airtime, so it doesn't come out of the budget. He built the website for the airport. It's at: http://www.Av8terservices.com You should check it out, he has really put some work into it.
I'm the navigator. He just bought me a new headset. He has an airport radio in his bathroom so he can hear the pilots' dialogue with the tower nearby. He is a very safe pilot. And CFI Bob keeps his planes maintained very well.
If we hit the lottery tomorrow, we would buy a home with a landing strip.
We've also considered getting a plane with water-pontoons, so we could have lakefront property.

We can dream with our heads in the clouds.
That's what Love is.

MsAmber

WHICH WARRIOR ANGEL ARE YOU?

Light Bearer
Class: Cherub
Alliance: Light

You are blessed with a heart of gold. You are a
kind, sweet, gentle person who believes very
strongly in doing the right thing. You tend to
be very emotional and very sensitive to other
people's feelings. You are so gentle that you
would not be suited to an active role in the
fight, but more of a passive one. You would be
a Light Bearer. As a Light Bearer, you would be
a source of inspiration to others. A reminder
of what they were fighting for.
Your Angelic Name: Alida (means "little winged
one" ^_^ )
Which Warrior Angel are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

Ok, I found a cute little quiz I liked. My new name is Alida from now on. (I wonder how that would be pronounced?) "AhhLeeda", "AyLYda", hmmm. Nah. I'll stick with MsAmber; everyone calls me that, anyway - and it is much nicer than just 'Amber'.

I've never been fond of my name - Amber. It is one of those names that evokes strange connotations about the person. I think of the blonde stereotype of "Girls Named Bambi and Amber"(wink wink).

I was given two justifications for my name by my mother. The first being "Forever Amber" by Kathleen Winsor. The heroine of this very long novel is a 16th century Royal whore, who has many conquests but can never seem to impress the man she pseudo-loves.

(O.K.)

The second reason: It's one of the Seven Precious Elements. Also it was the first name for electricity, see. If you rub silk over amber it creates static so the (ancient Greeks?) named it amber.

(All righty then.)

I think the REAL reason was that it sounded good when you screamed it out the back door: AAAMMMMBBBEEERR LEEEEEE!!!! Gitcherazz back in here!

Yes, ma'am.

MsAmber

Children's Rights

I have an issue in mind that I would like to know my readers' point of view on. Tell me if I'm right or wrong. Really, I want to know.
I have witnessed a phenomenon amongst the poorer/single parent households whereas the parent, having run up phone/electric/gas/cable bills and are unable to pay them, they will let the utilities be shut off, then have the utility turned back on using their child's name and SSN.
Despite what I might think is wrong with this, I also understand financially the reasons for it.
The utility now demands payment and a large deposit, or they could just provide a new, clean SSN and get the utilities turned back on for free.
Something needs to be done to prevent irresponsible parents from ruining the future credit for their children.
BUT THEN...
I have spent a considerable amount of time with these children, and I work with them and teach them how to work and how to save money, and how to achieve goals. I used to be able to open a Visa Buxx account so that I could load their money on it when they earn it, and it promotes saving and keeping their own accounting. There is a limit of $500.00 they can have on their card, and they cannot spend more than they have. Which is a good thing. But the system became cumbersome: It cost me too much in annual fees and transfer fees, it became a very expensive deal - when I have three kids on the payroll.
So, I'm looking for another method. I have a girl who is saving her money for Horse Camp. In the last 7 months she has saved $302.49. I opened a savings account attached to my checking account. HOWEVER, I found out that I am not allowed to put her name on it. Even with her SSN, she is under 18 and her LEGAL guardian must be on the account. I asked the banks, there is no loophole that I can use. She cannot have her very own savings account. WHY NOT?
I don't want her parents to have access to her money, she earned it herself. I want her name on her own savings account. I thought kids could have their own Christmas accounts. We aren't asking for a visa card or anything, but I'm sure if I filled out an application for a Visa card with her info, I would forever be getting offers in the mail for secured cards. But it's a Federal law that a kid can't have their own savings account? What's up with that?
I have run into this problem time and time again. I had a 16 year old girl working for me two summers ago, and she saved up enough money to pay cash for a used car and 6 months worth of insurance. As soon as her insurance ran out, her mother took over the car. They lied to me and said the mom got insurance on it. Then 1 year exactly, she calls and wants me to put it back on my policy so they can get license plates. Sorry charlie, don't like being lied to, and I'm sorry you lost your car.
Another 14 year old girl: the parent would "Borrow" her money to spend on drugs.
I know I sound a little hostile, I'm just not impressed by some of the parents I've known. Which is why I think a kid should be able to have their OWN savings account. I brought this subject up at work and a response that I got was: When you carry a kid in your body for 9 months, then you get to make those decisions.
Humph!

MsAmber

I Have No Life Outside Of Computing

My Winter Schedule:
I get up about 6:20, let the dog out, pour a cup of coffee and sit down to check my email. Smoke a cig and drink my coffee. At 6:35 I get up and make my bed, shower, brush my teeth, dress and I'm out the door at 7:05. I don't comb my hair when it's wet, so my hair is wet and tangled.
I stop by the 7-11 and get my "NoFear", and drive to work.
I listen to the radio, loudly, changing the station whenever a commercial comes on. Singing at the top of my voice and drinking my caffeine drink.
When I get to work, I B.S. with Terrie for a minute or so, put my WonderWoman lunchbox in the fridge, then I go turn on my lamps, light a candle, put on my headset and sit at my computer. I have two computers there, so I can be uploading files on one and still open logs on the other. Or I can have both computers uploading at once. Around 10:00 I go brush my hair because it's finally dry.
I check my blog when I have time, and read others. Mostly, I go through my queue and start calling customers and testing problems in the program. I log into their computers using GoToMyPc, Remote Desktop Connection, UltraVnc, or PCAnywhere. Then I will help them with their issues. Sometimes I just show them how to do something, othertimes I will have to manipulate data in the SQL tables, or work on their Electronic Claims Submission scripts, or troubleshoot their modems. Whatever it takes to get them working. I will sometimes have them install GoToMyPc so that I can get into their routers to make PCAnywhere work(forwarding ports 5631 tcp and 5632 udp). Sometimes I have to fuss with them that they can't install those stupid free screensavers and junk because it hoses up their computers, *especially* those offices that use their server as a workstation.
I get yelled at a lot. There are a couple of customers that I've learned how to yell back at them because it's the only method of communication that they can understand.
I have customers who know nothing, and don't want to know- "Just fix it!" they say.
I have customers who know enough to be dangerous, so I change the password to SQL so they can't start experimenting.
I have customers who know more than I do, and I wonder why they bother to call me.
I have customers who adore me and send presents in the mail - it makes my day.
I have customers who HATE me and send emails to my boss trying to circumvent me.
I work on platforms from Win95 through Server2000 and XPpro. But my ECS processors are all DOS-based, which keeps me in DOS practice.
I instant-messenger my Dad and a few customers during the day, and read my favorite comic strips, respond to a few emails, and read some blogs.
At 5:00 I go home.
I let the dog out again and do the dishes, feed the critters and change their water, put on my nightclothes and light a candle, then I sit at my computer and build webpages or write my blog entry. I have a mirror next to my monitor so I can watch the TV behind me when Little House On The Prairie comes on at 7:00.
I'm still on the computer when my husband comes home at 10:18. Then I log off and visit with him for a few minutes and go to bed.
The next morning, it starts all over again.
The above picture is what I look like in the Summer when I have a real life.

*Yawn* I'm so boring.

MsAmber

Couldn't Help Myself - Had To Redecorate

It's not like I want to show off the newest, coolest Avatars. I generally represent myself with the same old webcam picture. But I don't like using the pre-built templates too much. Same with web page authoring. I hate the standard templates, and they interfere when I want to do something original.
This blog interface was too boring. I like pink (obviously) but I don't like the rectangles that they make me put stuff into. I would rather have any other shapes.
Wish they would let me type into a diamond shape, or a heart. And splash color here or there, maybe insert pictures and resize them at will... Yeah, that would be nice.
But then, I may as well buy a Mac.
Not in this lifetime.
MsAmber