Did Ya Ever Go Skinny-Dippin'?

Well, Do tell...

I've been, but it was never anything really scandolous. I went with my husband several times. We always had a good time. I've been a few times by myself as well.

I was kidding a younger friend today about skinny dipping, she turned postively red in the face. It was adorable. When a friend and I pressed her for details she blushed us off and said she went with a bunch of girls once.

I kept telling her that, "the water felt good, didn't it."

It was fun. We were all giggling, mostly because 2 of us haven't been since we were younger. Those days are distant, happy memories.

I'm naming my baby girl "Anonymous"

we'll call her "Annie" for short!

Now for those of you who think I'm having a baby - "IT'S A JOKE"

The ONLY Class I Ever Dropped Because It Was TOO Hard Was Home Economics

I took Home Ec in the 11th. grade as an elective. I didn't need the credit I had way too much and I thought what easier class than Home Ec to take. Boy was I wrong!

At our school you did one semester of sewing and a one semester of cooking. Unfortunately my first semester was sewing. I was actually looking forward to the class because I thought I would like to learn to make quilts. I quickly discovered that I am absolutely inept at sewing. The only thing I was good at was using a seam ripper!

The problem I had (still undiagnosed) was, I like to refer to it as, a touch of dyslexia. I would sew one side of my pattern perfectly fine but then I had to do the other side - hence, the problem. Every single time I would sew the other side inside out. I wouldn't do it once. I would do it over and over.

At the end of the semester we were required to make an outfit and wear it for extra credit. It took everyone else around 3 weeks to sew their outfits. I made a skirt and a blouse - it took me 2 months and that was with me going in on lunch and free class periods to sew it. I can't even begin to express my frustration level. I had always been good at everything I ever tried - at the very least, adequate anyway.

Here was something I just could not do - no matter how hard I tried. The skirt was easy. It only took me about 3 days because it was basically 2 seams - one at the waist and one at the bottom.

The blouse threw me into fits. I did the one side just fine. Everytime I sewed that stupid sleeve on and then a cuff, one or the other or both was ass backwards! I was in tears several times. The teacher would show me again and again how to do it and I just couldn't catch on.

Finally the outfit was finished after 2 months. There was no way I wasn't going to wear it. I needed the credit too darn bad! I wore it proudly to school. It didn't look bad at all on me even though one sleeve was a little short and a little too tight and the skirt was massively too big for me.

I got a "c" on it. I think it was a pure, pity "c" because she knew I honestly put every bit of my effort into it.

Our next semester was supposed to be cooking. I was so frustrated by the sewing that I dropped out of home ec and took an extra semester of gym. It was really dumb of me because I really like to cook, but I took gym even when they told me I wouldn't get any credit for it because I had already completed the class. I didn't need the credit anyway because I was an over achiever in those days. I already had enough credit to graduate at the end of the 11th. grade, they just didn't allow early graduation in those days at my school.

postscript: Even today I have problems matching things. I am the only cashier at Fruth that is not required to straighten my money - i.e. face all the bills the same way. It gives me fits! On those standardized tests they give people I have always scored in the 90th. percentile except for the visual test where you have to look at the 4 pictures and find the one that is different - they always look the same to me. My usual score in that area is in the 20 percentile range. That would be in the actual range of a lucky guess, I would think.

There's a Man in my House (repost for a friend)

A few years ago when I was taking care of my dad we were asleep in our bedrooms and I kept hearing little noises. I just shrugged them off attributing them to the construction on the bridge next door. All of a sudden daddy's little Yorkie, Katie, went nuts barking. Still in my sleep I'm thinking, "Katie's barking. Katie only barks when somebody is walking around. Daddy can't walk. DADDY CAN'T WALK!"

At this point I jumped up and I ran through the house toward Daddy's room. There was a strange man coming toward me in the living room! I stopped for a second and I screamed at him, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY HOUSE!" I ran for the phone as he is ran for the back door. We collided! When we ran into each other I hit him as hard as I could with both fists! (my first thought then was "FUCK! Now he is going to have to kill me!") But he twisted around like a football player and continued to the back door. I was struck by the absolutely blank look in his eyes. (drugs)

I ran for the phone and I tried to call 911. I couldn't get the phone to work! After several tries I ran to my neighbor's house and started banging on her door. I could see the guy running away the whole time I was trying to wake her up. Then I realized it's 4am! She isn't going to answer the door if she doesn't know who it is. So I start yelling, "It's Pam! It's Pam.! Call 911!" She opened the door then and she was already on the phone to 911 (she works in the prosecutor's office and she knows all the policemen.) I was describing the guy to her and she was describing him to the operator when several police cars pulled up from everywhere!

I asked them if they saw him, because I knew they had to drive past him to get to my house. When I described him to the policeman, he said he DID see him but the dispatcher gave him the wrong description so he continued on to my house! He took off and tried to find him again. He didn't.

I saw the guy 2 days later walking around my house again and this time he was with a friend. HE WAS STILL WEARING THE SAME CLOTHES! I called the police again and they refused to come out saying it wasn't a crime for somebody to be walking around my house. They told me that I would have to get hold of the detective on the case. Of course, it was the weekend and he wasn't available. (@#*^/`#@`)

The guy was zonked out on something. He had a blank, blackhole look in his eyes when I ran into him. There was nothing there. His eyes were just fixed. The policeman asked what I thought he might have been after and I took him to my dad's drug cabinet. I started pulling out bottle after bottle saying, "this, this, this, this." He got the idea immediately. He asked how they would know my dad was on medicine. Well my dad loved to sit on the porch in his wheelchair and talk and smoke with whomever passed by. It was obvious to anyone who saw him that he was seriously ill and it wouldn't take a genious to deduce that he was on some strong meds.

That was a night that I would prefer to forget but I probably never will.

A Strawberry Birthmark

I have a small strawberry birthmark on my thigh. It didn't come out until my late teens. My mom has a larger one in the same place.

One time when I was in the sixth grade I walked into the bathroom to find the other girls sucking on their own and each others arms to make hickeys. It was a new discovery! I watched with interest at what they were doing.

One of the girls showed me the mark it left on her arm and I said, "that's nothing, my mom has a big one on her leg!" All the other girls lost it.

It took me a few years to figure out that the girls thought my dad had put a hickey on my mom's thigh!

How Would YOU Answer the Miss USA Questions?

1. Should marijuana be legalized?

sure

2. Should it be legal to burn the flag or Quran or Bible?

no

3. Should bullies be prosecuted?

yes

4. What advise would you give polital wives whose spouses stray?

Don't pay attention to the media. Take the time to figure out what is best for you - no matter what anyone else thinks about the situation.

My Heart Dropped to My Knees Last Night

I came home from work last night throughly exhausted as usual. I shlepped my way to the elevator and pressed 8 and collapsed against the wall to rest until my ardous journey was over. The elevator had just started when the fire alarm went off.

Of course alarm bells started sounding in my head at the same time. What was the elevator going to do? I knew that it normally locks down when there is an alarm but I didn't know what would happen if it was already in service.

It stopped.

Not on the 8th. floor either.

The door did not open when it stopped.

For a brief moment I had to wonder what my fate would be. I envisioned myself in a smoke filled elevator choking and gasping for air. (I'm on oxygen for those of you who don't know although I usually don't need it during the day. I can really feel it when the air is not circulating around me)

I told myself not to panic. The normal Pam would have never worried about the predicament she was in, but the oxygen deprived Pam has to consider these kinds of situations as a class one emergency.

I stood there looking at the buttons and trying to decide if I needed to call 911 when the elevator started going back down. The doors opened and I was safely deposited on the ground floor.

I was so relieved.

I should have known there was a safety mechanism but for a brief time I really wasn't able to think rationally. I should have known the firemen were coming anyway and they HAVE to use the elevators to get to any fire in the building anyway. (they have a key to override the stop)