All right. I really either need to get some friends or a really cute plumber. So...I do the look up your birthday thing. Feel free to give it a try. Can't decide if I like any results that don't say: You should be made Queen of the World.

***Your Birthdate: July 19***
Your birth on the 19th day of the month adds a tone of independence and extra energy to your life path. But at the same time, it poses a number of obstacles to overcome before you are able to be as independent as you would like. The number 1 energy suggests more executive ability and leadership qualities than your path may have indicated.
A birthday on the 19th of any month gives greater will power and self-confidence, and very often a rather original approach. However, a somewhat self-centered approach to life that may be in conflict with some of the other influences in your life. This 1 energy may diminish your ability and desire to handle details, preferring instead to paint with a broad brush.
You are sensitive, but your feeling stay somewhat repressed. You have a compelling manner that can be dominating in many situations. You do not tend to follow convention or take advice very well.
Consequently, you tend to learn through experience; sometimes hard experiences. The 19/1 is a loner number and you may experience feelings of being alone even if you are married. You may take on a tendency to be nervous and angry.
What Does Your Birth Date Mean?http://www.blogthings.com/whatdoesyourbirthdatemeanquiz/

Daytripper

340 Million Dollars.

We've all thought about it. If you say you haven't, you're a liar. Even if it's to say "I'll never win, so I'm not gonna even daydream" it means you thought about. You think about it. You know you do. I just thought about it and I'm ready to think about it again.

How would you spend 340 million dollars? Gee, can anyone guess the first thing I'd do? Couldn't have anything to do with a house, could it? Pay off all my loans and credit cards, which I'll never need again. Buy a fuel efficient car (because our natural resources could care less how much cash I just won). Get my eyes checked. Go to a dermatologist for a little pick me up. Yeah, I know, I'm cukoo crazy. Wild. Yup. That's me.

Then I got to thinking about how 340 million dollars (I didn't even know there was that much moolah in circulation) wouldn't change my life. Sure, I could buy really nice Egyptian Cotton sheets and a King Size bed (yeah, right, like the dog still wouldn't sleep on me!), but that won't stop my husband from stealing them. Nor would it convince my daughter that she has to change them more than once every three months (or that it's not okay to go without them when you sleep on a 20 year old mattress). And I could get a really nice dishwasher, but it won't stop my teen from taking hot chocolate up to her room and then letting the residue harden on my newly purchased Fiestaware for days at a time. Or convince my husband not to leave his oj glass on his nightstand overnight so that the pulp fuses with the glass. It could buy me a maid (although I personally believe the only necessary household help is a personal secretary), but is that really going to teach my family that it's actually their responsibility to pick up after themselves, feed the pets, clen the cat box, pick the used razors up off of the bathroom floor, etc.?

What it can buy me is a beautiful, functioning home in Blue Springs or Independence where the basement doesn't leak, the insulation is included and a pool boy named Chad comes by once a week to service me - my pool. It can afford me cosmetic dentistry, cool clothes and never having to say "We'll see if they have something like that at Wal-Mart."

And a Steinway. *sigh*

Who Do You See?

According to my site counter, my blog is averaging anywhere from 25 - 35 hits a day. A handful of folks leave a message (the inimitable Sam, Everett, Irish, etc.), occasionally a sense of humor will pop up (see: Stealing Fun) that is so unmistakeable I know in an instant that they're a Block Island or Mid-Western acquaintance.

It's a bit intimidating to know that there are so many people (to some it may not seem like a lot, but to me that's double the size of the Ecumenical Choir when I was directing) who take 30 seconds of their day to see what I have to say. Whew! I certainly hope I'm not supposed to suddenly grow a conscience and take a form of responsibility that is foreign and not so much fun to me. Should I change my format and preach? Witness? Testify? Respect? Recognize? (This is about to turn into an INXS song...) Or should I just continue to play it safe and talk about baby poop, lonely days, lonely nights (what? another song cue?), and my own human frailty. Hell, some days I'm lucky if I can even scrounge up enough conversation for a baby much less 25 reading aged people.

But it makes me wonder. Sure, obviously my relatives read. They don't post, but they email me later and say "gee, is the house any better"? Or "I read your blog today, you really need to call a plumber." (You think?) My daughter drops in occasionally (although we have an understanding about posting to each other's blogs now). I think her childhood companions' parents may stop in from time to time and the odd (and I mean 'odd') friend from Block Island. But that doesn't really account for so many readers.

It's a bit like the Powerball. I'm never gonna win. But it's fun to daydream about what I'd do with the money. I know I won't know everybody that drops by, but it's fun to wonder about who they are. How many are from Block Island? New England? Georgia (friends and relatives)? The Mid-West? How many say "ufta" at least five times a day without thinking about it? How many used to date me (should I apologize now or later)? How many are the current wife of my ex-husband (I already know the answer to that one, I'm just making a point)? Do you have any personal knowledge of me or did you just stumble upon this and check it from time to time to see if I mention Block Island/Bath/Kansas City. Do I owe you email? (cuz I'm, like, 4 or 5 months behind on most of my emails...*chagrinned*...sorry Barb) Are you in a penitentiary? Do they even allow inmates to access computers in the pen?

See? It's a lot like daydreaming about winning 324 million dollars. Only not as disappointing when you find out that some middle class retired guy who already has a swimming pool in his back yard won it and now can buy that second or third house he really wanted.

And with that...

Get Off My Back

All right already. I updated the dratted, quality-forsaken web page. Go see for yourselves - and get off my back about it! (she said in the kindest possible way)

http://www.pglen.com

Have a nice day.

P.S. Block Islanders have been saying it for years, but now that it's on the Today show it's validated. Studies show that Americans are getting ruder. Duh.

The Big Log

I was worried when my son's due date neared. As prissy and easily grossed out as I am, would I be able to handle the dirty diapers? Sure, I've already handled a fair amount of orange soda and black olive laced regurgitation - especially during raucous sleepovers - but baby poop and the cleaning up is...well, it's different. It's gross. It smells funny. It's poop. And once I brought the baby home, I realized that this, too, was one more thing I could handle (although there have been a few that have made my eyes water and breath catch a little hard).

But nobody ever warned me about poops in the tub.

Nope. No can do. Can't handle it. About all I could do was holler for help as I held both hands to keep the little scientist from experimenting with this particular ...log ...while he was soapy from head to foot and the rinsing cup was way over there. Why can't they do it after they've been thoroughly scrubbed and rinsed?

And then he has the audacity to yell and scream at me cuz I won't let him play with it? Excuse me?

Babies are gross.