So, ’tis the season for finales.
The rising heat and burning Panhandle winds signal us that the end of Spring is near.
This past week has sent my TiVo into a frenzy of recording. This evening, I’m catching up. Who will Betty (Ugly Betty) Suarez choose, Gio or Henry? (I hope she kicks Henry to the curb, personally.)
Grey’s Anatomy ended way too neatly. You know something’s going to happen to Derrick. ‘Wait for me,’ he told Meredith. Yeah, something’s going to happen to that guy. And Callie going for Hahn, in place of McSteamy? Forget it. Really. Hahn’s such a bitch. I guess that means that next season, they’ll do something to make me like her. And Alex? Poor baby.
What about Horatio on CSI Miami? No way CSI Wolfe is part of a hit. I’m guessing it’s a staged event to somehow save Horaitio’s son.
NCIS? I was sad for Gibbs. I’m also thinking there’s sparks between Abby and McGee. And Ziva and Tony. Tony. *sigh* Love that character. All those reassignments? NO WAY.
CSI–Warrick?! BOOM. And now the mole is revealed. Who’da thought?
CSI-NY: Mac, c’mon. You should know better.
Boston Legal–tell me you aren’t cancelled! Shark– you too!
Desperate Housewives–The jerk got what he deserved. So did that little twerp of Tom’s. But jumping forward? What the heck?
Oh, no, I just had a thought. (yeah, it DID hurt, thanks for asking.) Do late night talk shows go on summer hiatus? I don’t remember. I hope not. I would hate a whole summer without Craig Ferguson.
I watch a few more…I know. Addicted to TiVo. Bloop-Bloop. And? So?
It’s almost the end of the PRIDE (Parent Resource Information Development Education ) classes, our foster parenting instruction. This week was our class on discipline. Next week : sexual abuse. Lots of information has been presented to us about so many things. I get the feeling it’s only the tip of the iceberg! Three more classes. We still have to take out CPR/First Aid course, get life insurance, home health inspection, home fire inspection, construct a will, take pictures of the interior of our home, get TB tests, health certificates, get home studies, provide copies of pet vaccinations…
Today at lunch, I went to WalMart to get some makeup, and browsed by the baby/toddler aisle, daydreaming. I found the perfect theme! Gender-neutral Winnie the Pooh. Done in strong yet not loud greens and other earthy colors. And it has yellow in it, which will go with the yellow I’m painting. Aye, I still have to finish painting. But I didn’t buy the comforter and bedding. We haven’t been approved yet. I still have the folded baby blanket from when we were pregnant the first time, and it’s bad enough looking at that. I’ll wait till we have more of a surety of something, this time.
I went this week to get my fingerprints done for the DPS Background check. *sigh* All excited, I was. After all, that’s the least of my worries, right? Went into the office for the electronic printing. The woman was cranky. A jaded kind of cranky, not just a bad day kind of cranky. First, I notice she starts marking up my application like a pissed off substitute teacher on a rampage.
I don’t say anything about her marking through my middle name and replacing it with my maiden name, like on my driver’s license. It asked for my middle name, I put my middle name.
I do, however, ask what I got wrong when she marked off where it asked for my race. I put Caucasian, fair complexion. I SWEAR that’s what it asked for.
“It wasn’t asking whether you were white, it was asking whether you were Hispanic, (stupid.)” Yes, the ‘stupid’ was unspoken, but definitely implied in the tone. Why were they specifically asking about Hispanic, and not any other race? I’m definitely no ACLU member, but that seems kinda weird.
I wanted to reply, “Then why did you mark it out and put ‘light’ instead of ‘fair,’ doo-doo head?” Instead, I meekly chuckled and said, “Um, well, it was late when I filled it out. I must have been tired.”
I gleefully presented my hands for printing on their little electronic screen, fully confident. I ain’t scared of no background check…they won’t find SQUAT except I’m not very good with my checkbook and I had a car accident a couple of years ago when a 16 year old girl stopped on the on-ramp in front of me. No speeding tickets or otherwise, even.
“Don’t roll your hands. Just let me do it,” says Miss Cranky.
But, I wasn’t rolling my hands. Honest.
“Tsk-Tsk.” She shakes her head. “Do you have a lot of damage to your fingers?”
“Um, well, I don’t know.” I frown. “I’m a hairdresser and I do nails, and work at a grocery. Anything’s possible.”
“They aren’t going to accept these. They look like the kind of prints someone has when they try to alter their prints.” The accusatory tone singed my ears. (Okay. I’m over sensitive sometimes. Maybe it just hurt my feelings. Okay. My EGO.)
“Well, I didn’t. I have no reason to.” I thought for a moment. I’d done nails that day. “I may have some glue residue left that I didn’t get removed.”
“Well, there’s 1, 2, 3, 4, 5…they just aren’t going to take these I can almost guarantee it.”
Whatever, I think. I will more than likely be asked to have them done again, but won’t face another fee. No big deal, they gal’s attitude was just a bit of a bubble burster. But that’s okay. I’m still confident. If I can get past the home health inspection, and fire inspection, I’ll feel even more confident of approval. Again, the whole idea of someone INSPECTING our housekeeping…*shudder*
I made excellent progress on the spare room. However, I DID open the closet door, then shut it again really fast. I guess I’ll try to pump myself up to tackle that Sunday afternoon, after working at the market. And maybe after checking e-mail…..
Another season ended this week. Granny’s sister, L___ passed, 5 months after Granny. 5 months before Granny, another of her sisters, M___, passed. Now there’s only one sister left. *sigh*
Wanna hear something weird?
Tuesday night, Mom was sitting in the living room when she heard a swoosh-crash from the kitchen. First, she blamed the dog, a Doberman-Rottweiler mix, who looked up at her from the rug like, “What? What’d I do?”
“Oh,” said Mom, before going to investigate.
Turns out, one of Granny’s candles, that Mom had been SURE to push away from the edge just that morning, had shot off the fridge and onto the countertop.
The next morning, she found out L___ had passed away Tuesday night.
Anyway, I have run on long enough here. I need to wind down, I suppose, and get to sleep…