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eastcoastgirl Drunk mom allegedly runs through school with sword Feb 28, 2010 8:27 AM MEMPHIS, Tenn.— Police said the mother of an elementary school student drank a 40 ounce bottle of malt liquor before brandishing a sword in her child's school. The woman, 32, apparently intended to confront the parents of another child who had been in a spitting match with her child the previous day. According to court records, an employee at Riverview Elementary School in Memphis reported a drunk woman armed with a sword was running through the halls of the school and had threatened to cut her. Officers who arrived on the scene retrieved a black cane that concealed the blade. The woman charged with aggravated assault and having a weapon on school property. Where do these people come from??? That poor child or children that has to go back to school and have everyone tease him about his "Ninja" mom!
Dana18 The Environment is getting better! Aug 17, 2009 11:01 AM Our Environment is getting better. The water and air is over 50% better then it was in 1990. So let's keep up the good work. Check out the article in Newsweek, http://www.newsweek.com/id/212146?GT1=43002
cheekyredhead DMV--The TV Crews Missed it. Aug 6, 2009 9:26 PM Okay, we have all been there. The wonderful DMV. Take a number, this form, fill it out, and wait. And wait. And then wait some more. You spend at least four hours or more in a huge room with probably 200 other people which are equally as bored and annoyed as you are. We are all agitated and impatient people who are not happy to be forced into squeaky hard plastic chairs. Admittedly I am a people watcher, so even though nobody looks forward to a visit to the DMV, I have never left without something mildly entertaining to share. Here is my last experience ... feel free to share yours. Got my number, paperwork, bottle of water, tiny bottle of hand sanitizer, and a book ... so I thought I was ready for anything that could happen at the DMV. Of course as I migrated from one area in the DMV to the next, I took in the scenery and openly gawked at people. That is the charm of the DMV. As I always do, I have some little private games I play to make the time pass and assist me in the enjoyment of people watching. These games come in handy at an airport, the mall, waiting for the PTA meeting to start and so on. My first game is “What were they thinking when they left the house this morning?” It is California, so not much surprises me anymore but it is interesting what I see. Since I am in the DMV, the next game was "What do they drive?" and then "What do they do for a living?" In the midst of my games and being shuffled from one area to the next I noticed a clerk that was going to help the number that was just announced. She asked the gentleman a question and he said very loudly, “No hablo ingles!” The clerk had this really annoyed look on her face and then walked over to the next line. They closed the next line down and then both clerks came over to help the gentleman. This nearly caused a panic because everyone in the DMV tensed ... seeing an entire line was closed down instead of exchanging a duty or a customer. So now everyone is on edge and this became the event everyone was now watching. More importantly we were all wondering how long this would keep us from finishing our business here and leaving. All eyes were on these two clerks and the gentleman being helped. Conversations were being translated back and forth. Soon both clerks as well as the man were gradually getting louder. Finally it became easy to hear what the issue was. “You have to tell him that without a pink slip it does not matter who he bought the car from or where, we cannot do anything without at least a bill of sale.” That was translated, then the man became even angrier and words began to pass quickly between the translator and the man ... obvious angry words. Finally he blew up and loudly yelled, “Dammit, you people are supposed to help me get the damn pink slip! Why do you think I have spent my entire day here!” Shock. Silence. One clerk said something we were all thinking to ourselves, “What happened to ‘No hablo ingles’?” At that same time everyone was looking around at each other. Some of the Hispanics waiting had one of either two very specific reactions on their faces. They were either “Holy crap he has messed up the whole ‘no hablo ingles’ racket for all of us!” or “Good grief ... he makes us all look bad!” The rest of us sat and wondered if they would beat the crap outta him as the man realized his great blunder. Faces had looks of concern, anger, and dismay written all over them. Tension in the air was thick enough to cause a great discomfort to everyone who had heard the transaction. The clerks both walked away and security asked him nicely to leave. For awhile everyone had some reflective looks on their faces. It was interesting to watch how people were thinking about what had just happened ... but I am sure many on us were thinking the same thing. Where is a video camera crew when you need one? First published March 2009 cheekyredhead
cheekyredhead B-Hind the Times: Retro=OLD is NEW Jul 19, 2009 11:50 AM B-Hind the Times: Retro = OLD is NEW Again! When my grandparents passed away we were faced with decisions about their “stuff” and their house was much like a time capsule. Many of their things revealed their unique and quirky personalities. This made it hard to part with some items and at the same time we were perplexed, asking ourselves how the heck we could incorporate these strange and sometimes goofy items into our own home décor. Much of what was there would be deemed “retro” and some would be stamped with “OMG-what were they thinking?” There was the ceramic duck lamp my father had bought them with money from his paper route when he was a kid. We couldn’t let go of it for sentimental reasons but then none of us wanted it in our house either. Dad took that one home. Ultimately we sat down and decided we had to go through and pick what we knew we could not part with and then find a “perfect” home for the rest. I came home with a black poodle made from pipe-cleaners that had always been on grandma’s frig, a tiny cup her teacher had given her as an award when she was little, and a box of both home-made valentines and then some of the first store-bought ones ever offered and finally the love letters my grandparents exchanged when they dated. These were my treasures. I was sad to leave behind all the fake Christmas trees she had. There was the pink-flocked one I couldn’t decide was too hideous to keep or too unique to leave behind. My Dad took the silver one and my uncle took the blue flocked one. The decorations were either cute or down- right ugly, no grey areas there. One of my sisters had been redecorating her den in a 50’s motif so some of the items suited her house perfectly. My grandparent’s comet green and silver table set would be perfect for her home. Sadly none of us could imagine where an odd hanging lamp that had angels encased by threads which dribbled some oily-type rain should go. It was both a marvel and hideous at the same time. My grandma loved costume jewelry. Some of it she made by herself, it was given to her, or she collected it over her lifetime. There were gaudy pieces and also beautiful things. I couldn’t imagine myself wearing any of it but I could imagine Madonna tossing layer upon layer of these pieces for one of her earlier videos. Sadly I was way past my Madonna stage. My sisters found homes for these items. Grandma’s ornate crystal lamps which had been on her dressing table for as long as I could remember are packed carefully away for my daughter. Grandpa’s bottle of “Old Spice” is in my curio cabinet. I sneak in there occasionally to smell it. Next to it is a couple of pecans long past the time they would be considered actually edible. Grandpa loved pecans and these came from his tree. It is odd that I would cling to a few old pecans. Hey—I have vintage pecans…how cool am I? Another sister took the plank picture of a bouquet of flowers made entirely of different seeds, nuts, and shells, heavily varnished over and over. It was sentimental to me but I was grateful that a decision didn’t involve me finding a place for it in my home. There were many items like this that we were attached to emotionally but faced with the reality these were really just “things” on some level. Now I look in antique and curio shops and see items which may have come from my grandparent’s home. It is like visiting old friends. We all have kept our “retro” memories which remain timeless while others enjoy making new homes for the “stuff” we left behind.
cheekyredhead Do Shoes Make a Woman? Jul 5, 2009 3:45 PM Alright...I admit that at one time I rivaled Emelda when it came to shoes. The big difference between her and I was that I never paid full price for any of my shoes and I actually wear them all. I have been known to be one of those women that buy a pair of shoes AND THEN create the perfect outfit to go with them. If that meant I had to go shop for that perfect outfit then it was an extra perk. As all women know, no matter how our weight fluctuates, we could always find shoes that fit. It was a difficult day for me when my daughter realized we had the same shoe size. She was 12 at the time and I spent a lot of time explaining why a 12 year old could not wear 3 inch heels to school. She did manage to hijack many of my shoes for church and I received some very judgmental stares as a result. My daughter was at the age where she was too old to hang with the little kids but too young to hang with the high school kids. The biggest problem was that she actually tall and well-endowed for a 12 year old. This was also the time period where all the clothes found in stores for teens all looked like hookers uniforms...wait those are still there...so it was/still is very hard to find her something to wear which was both age appropriate and appropriate for church. That was when she started raiding my clothes as well. Something which fits all my curves nicely gives her curves more attention than I am prepared for---add to that my shoes which vary from professional to downright kinky...and the mixture of the two can be a bit shocking to see on a KID. I was raised in a very conservative family and my dad had been a Baptist minister until I was in high school, so I know instinctively what is appropriate and what is not. The fact that suddenly the women in my church were judging my daughter on the basis of high heels and then realizing that they had been giving me the same judgmental stares about my own footwear...I began to develop a little streak of defiance. Who were they to judge someone on the basis of shoes? I mean...it wasn't like I was wearing fetish wear to church but some of them felt that way. This made me start to wear some of my more "kinky" shoes with a very conservative outfit that had been carefully and skillfully tailored to accent my curves even more. I suddenly became the "Dolly Parton" of church. ( I don't have HER curves or hair) The men would flirt and the women would elbow their husbands so hard that I am sure that many had permanent bruises. If I came early nobody would set in the same pew. If I came late they all squirmed if I elected to sit with them. Seeing this, I of course began to come a little tardy--just enough to pick a different group of people uncomfortable each Sunday. They all began to be so uncomfortable around me that I revelled in their discomfort. Was that bad of me? It was their own "shoe demons" which tortured them anyway. I was just the person which did not allow them to ignore those demons any longer. Seriously. Shoes are equal-opportunity objects that anyone can purchase and wear. Perhaps they were just as jealous of my ability to pair kinky shoes with just the right outfit? Did I skillfully organize their discomfort on purpose? Maybe a little. They all gave a big sigh of relief when I remarried and moved to another church. I left my stamp on them though. When I moved I donated 2 pairs of my kinkiest shoes to each of the 30 young women in the church. All but two of them and I shared the same shoe size. Now we all share the ability to make people squirm a little. My friends say that parents squirm as they see their teenagers parading around in what used to be my kinky shoes. The thought just makes me smile. Maybe I am defiant. They are just shoes anyway.

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Drunk mom allegedly runs through school with sword
The Environment is getting better!
DMV--The TV Crews Missed it. DMV--The TV Crews Missed it.
B-Hind the Times: Retro=OLD is NEW B-Hind the Times: Retro=OLD is NEW

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