Emma, during a rant.

I know I have questions to answer still. And I know I have questions to still send out. I will do it soon, after the hell that will be tomorrow evening perhaps. And do you want to know some more things that piss me off? Of course you do.

Boys. 11 year old boys. Particularly ones named Liam who were vacuumed out of my girly parts. Boys who wear home their school shoes, and then go play at a soaking wet park in said school shoes, even though they have two other pairs of runners sitting in the closet, and then come home with sandy, wet shoes really piss me off. And then they don't even say sorry? That really pisses me off. And then when you say go get ready for soccer? And they come down in one black sock and one white, and then you say go put on matching socks, and they come down in one grey and one white and then when you finally lose it because seriously? how hard is it too match a pair of socks, that really pisses me off. I mean come on, I know he has dyslexia and I know it affects colours but honestly, grey and white? Please.

I know that any number of you could mention how grammatically incorrect that paragraph is, but please don't. It's been a shitey day. And I don't really care anyway.

Grown men piss me off too. People who threaten me piss me off. People who put in letters of complaint for being treated unfairly when they haven't even been turned down for a fucking house REALLY, REALLY piss me off. People who break their oath of confidentiality to tell that person? They are on my personal hit list.

I am so sick of where I live. I am so sick of the bullshit that is involved in living here and sitting on the board. It would be a long story if I where to tell you all it, and you'd fall asleep at your desks with boredom, but needless to say I have had enough and tonight I told the president that I am tired of always being manipulated and I am stepping off the board. I don't know what they will do, I chair the membership committee as well as do all the secretarial shit stuff. They may get some eejit to run. If I go through with it, I plan on announcing it at the general meeting tomorrow night and this is what I think I will say:

"I have been on this board for over 2 years. Being a board member is extremely difficult. I don't think a single one of you sitting here who has not been on the board has any idea of what board members go through. I know that before I joined I had no idea what Irene, or Dave, or Laurie, or, Kathy, or Daniele, or anyone else, had to deal with. I, personally, am tired of having disagreements with people, I am tired off all the manipulation that goes on in this c.o-o.p. I am extremely frustrated by the actions of former members of this c.o-o.p, who insist on acting as though they are still living here and sitting on the board. Therefore, effectively immediately, I resign. I am not willing to sacrifice my family, and my own well being, for this c.o-o.p."

Ah, I feel better just writing that. I said it aloud, added and took away, and that's what I ended up with. Will I have the nerve to say it? Probably not.

I'm such a wimp.

*Edited to add: God, I made a lot of spelling mistakes in here and I can't find one of them now, but I know it's floating around. One more thing that pisses me off: the fact that I am gaining, not losing, weight. This is becoming a big, fat issue. Today, my neighbour was telling her 2 year old to say hi to me. Instead, she pointed at me and said "baby." Her mum tried to cover it up by saying "No, her baby's at home." But I just laughed and said "No baby, just fat." Then I went home and would have cried but my friend had come over to bitch about her SIL who did not show up to her girls' birthday party. Sigh. The baby's gone 8 months old, I can hardly use her as an excuse for my chubby tummy. The fact that I am gaining what William is losing is really times 20 pissing me off.

15 Questions I Must Answer (aka Bloggers are keeping me from cleaning my house)

So this interview is going around. And almost everybody has done it, so I really don't know who will sign up for me to interview them but I can hope someone will so I don't feel like a total loser. 4 people took me up on my request to be interviewed and I have received three so far. Since the baby is sleeping I thought I'd give it a go.

In the order received:

That Chick Over There asks:

1) Why do you blog?

I origionally called my blog "A Day in the Life of a Terrible Mother" and it's purpose was partially going to be to record Taylor's behaviour, for counselling purposes. I was told I need to write everything down and since I don't keep a proper journal I was just going to use this avenue. Oddly enough, Taylor was in England when I started blogging and by the time she came home it wasn't just about questioning my parenting. Although I still do. Every single day.

2) What is the major difference you have noticed in raising your first child versus your youngest?

It's hard to say really, there are different fathers involved so that makes a big difference- William's style of parenting is nowhere near what my ex's was. He wants to be a part of what goes on and if he doesn't like the way I handle things he says so. I was much more alone in raising Taylor and Liam, which has its good points and bad points. I think that ultimately I am a better mother to Saoirse and Sophie than I am to the two older ones.

I can tell you a difference in raising Sophie as compared to Saoirse and that is that Sophie sleeps and naps in her crib. I love having a cuddle with her in bed if she wakes up in the middle of the night, but I'd never want to share my bed with a toddler again.

Since, you know, I've not gotten rid of Saoirse yet.

3) What is your biggest regret in life?

I normally say that I don't have regrets because everything is a life lesson. If I had to pick something though I would say that I have made some pretty serious mistakes with men.

4) If you could only listen to three CDs for the rest of your life, which three and why?

The first once came to me the moment I read this question. The Levellers, Levelling the Land. If you click here you can hear 2 songs from that album (Another Man's Cause and Liberty). I was a little shocked that they had a My Space page, because it sort of goes aginst the whole selling out thing, but there ya go.

My second album would be The Jesus and Mary Chain, Darklands. I've had this since I was 13 in record, cassette and CD format. I still love it.

My thrid choice is a toss up between the Dixie Chicks' The Long Way and James Blunt's Back to Bedlam. I listen to them both all the time. I don't like change apparently.

5) Superman or Batman?

To be or to do? I wasn't sure what was meant by this question. I assume it means who would you want to be, since not everyone relates everything back to sex, unlike myself.

I would want to be Superman because he has actual powers. Being able to fly would be fantastic. Batman's kind of boring when you think about it.

For those who are interested, I would rather sleep with Batman. I'd have no interest in taking off Superman's tights and red underwear. And the fact that he is faster than a speeding bullet is slightly worrisome.



I thin I will have to save the other questions for later, I'm feeling guilty about not cleaning my bathrooms while the baby is sleeping.

Here's the rules:
1. Leave me a comment saying, "Interview me." If I don't have your email address, leave it for me in the comments.

2. I will respond by emailing you five questions. I get to pick the questions.

3. You will update your blog with the answers to the questions.

4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.

5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

It's Thursday night

...so I really can't be expected to answer the questions I received from Ice Cream Mama and That Chick today, now can I? Because right now I am watching Grey's and that takes priority over everything you know. Plus we've moved the TV, along with every other piece of furniture in the livingroom, and now I have to turn to see what's going on. So it's blogging during commercials for me. Anyway, I am also hoping that both Catwoman and Rachel will provide me with some questions to answer and then I can do it one big fat post of 20 questions. And since I scream genius that'll end up being the title I am sure. I used to love 20 questions as a kid. And just so you know I will answer anything. Mostly.

Just things

I booked myself into work for the end of May. I have said I will just do weekends at first, but I have to be trained for all the new procedures and crap. I'll do that on a Thursday and Friday. 5 weeks tomorrow. So sad.

Do you know what really bothers me in a high schoolish sort of way? When bloggers who used to comment quite often stop commenting. It makes me paranoid. Do they no longer like me? Have I offended them somehow? And in a Kasey Chambers moment...am I not pretty enough? Ah, yes bloggerland is high school all over again.

And speaking of high school, I am wondering just what girl Lisa thinks I had a crush on. Because personally I think she has no clue and I am totally willing to take bets. Did I ever tell you I had a huge crush on her brother Robert? Yes I probably did tell you. I repeat myself often on this blog, because I tend to forget all the shite I have mentioned. Anyway, it went nowhere, the same direction as 98% of my crushes.

After today, my mother is convinced that only our half English blood has saved my brother and I from the depths of insanity. Since, you know, she thinks the Irish are all crazy. Tonight she has her proof. My cousin was arrested for something that happened with her husband. Spent a night in jail and has no access to her son. Is not allowed near her house, which I'm pretty sure is actually her house and not his house, unless she added his name to her mortgage. So I'm assuming something pretty heavy happened. It's just one more cousin to add to the mounting pile of alcoholism and craziness. All my dad's family of course. God, I've got cousins that sleep with first cousins and cousins beating up their sisters. Is it no wonder my mother thinks I've turned out okay, even with all the shit I make her worry about?

Shelley, my friend who works in the ICN, saw Janine's babies yesterday. Janine told her she could tell me everything which was very nice of her. They were both on CPAP for a few days, but now only one is. Both are being fed through IVs and yesterday they started tube feeding them. The one who is still on CPAP could not tolerate the feeding and was vomiting. So she is not doing as well as the other, but they are both expected to be alright. Janine's mum is not doing well at all. My mother, who is totally not this type of person, said "There's a reason those babies arrived so early." And there must be, I am not sure that she will make it to the original due date.

Conversations with my daughter

Today my daughter informed me that she would appreciate if if I don't go into her room.

In a moment I would prefer to forget, I became my mother. The words that came out of my lips were formerly said by one Pauline T. (that'd be me mammy), circa 1984-1991: "YOUR room is in MY house, therefore I have every right to enter."

Here's the thing though- I don't really believe that. It is her room, and I do respect that. I have been knocking at her closed door since she was a toddler. I respect her right to privacy, and her right to a space of her own.

I do, however, expect certain things of her. I expect that when I have spent 2 full days cleaning that room, that she should at least attempt to maintain it. I expect her laundry to be put away properly. I expect dirty clothes to be placed in the basket outside her room.

Do that, and there's no need for me to go into your room, other than to place clean laundry on the bed. That is not what Taylor does.

What Taylor does is throw the clean laundry off the bed and onto the floor, where it mingles and appears to breed with the dirty laundry. What she also does is leave dishes and food packaging from items that she is NOT allowed in her room for days on end. Another Taylor favourite is cutting up paper into little tiny pieces and leaving them on the floor. All this makes for a great big mess that makes an already grumpy mother downright unstable.

When I said to her that I know very well Marissa's mother goes into her room, she said "No she doesn't, she puts the laundry outside the door."

"Taylor." I say, "I know that Marissa's mother goes into her room."

And Taylor knows that Marissa's mother goes into her room because I was the one who told Taylor that Marissa's mother read her diary while in her room. And I was the one who said to my daughter "I will never, ever do that to you. What goes into your diary are your private thoughts. If you choose to share them with me that is your decision, and I would be thrilled. I would also think that if there is something big going on in your life, you would be comfortable enough to tell me."

So, yeah, I may enter your room, make your bed, and sort your dirty vs. clean laundry but I will never, ever read your diary.

Because I'm pretty freaking sure my mum read mine and I'm still tortured by the thought of what she may have discovered about me.

Questions I am currently pondering

Does anyone watch Degrassi? I clicked on to it tonight, I haven't really watched this current series at all, but I was faithful devotee during the junior high and high school series. Anyway, there was a girl telling a girl she loved her, "like really, really love you." and it reminded me of a my first and only girl crush. Yes, I had a girl crush. I was 16 and never in the two years we were at school together did I say a word to her. (So no worries, Lisa, it wasn't you!) I looked at her picture a few years ago and I can't say I know what the attraction was.

Isn't it amazing how quickly the media descends on a place after something terrible happens? And how quickly they find the victims of previous incidents? I'm watching Dateline's coverage of the Virgina Tech shootings. I wonder what was going through that guys head to do such a terrible thing to so many people.

Why have I recently become so obsessed with sex? I have no idea what's going on and I'm almost frightened by it. It's a subject for an entirely different blog.

So is my weight. Seriously...what the hell? I am gaining like there is no tomorrow. I need to become accountable to myself for my lack of weight losing motivation. Hmmm...no question there. Just a ponder, then.

Is it bad that today, a day after coming home, I was totally ready to go away again? Don't answer that, I know it was. It's just that Sophie cried all day. And followed me around, speed crawling her way to wherever I was. And then she'd grab my leg and stand up and not let go. A part of me loved her neediness but another part was wondering why I didn't go away for a week. Roll on 9 months. Oh, and the breastfeeding? She's still a go. Which did make me happy.

Another ponder...today I discovered that I have to go back to work in 5 weeks. Oh God. I could cry. Yes, I want baby free time, but not at work. I really don't want to go back. I know I was lucky to get a year but I'm cursing myself for leaving work 2 months early. I wonder what I could do to stay home. Bloody immigration get a move on. Please, please, please.

And that's all. The thought of going back to work has been too sad to say another woed. Count yourself lucky.

It's like there's a conspiracy theory going on

A Note to My Daughters:

There is no little sister or brother planned for the immediate future. I swear! Do me a favour and sleep in your own beds for half the night. If push comes to shove, an hour would do me. Okay? Okay.

Thanks muchly,

Your loving Mummy.

The weekend and the twins

Really quick here because I am watching Desperate Housewives and immediately afterwards I am waking up William because well, he said I could so yeah you know. You know.

The weekend was great. Only 4 of us were there on Thursday- what a great way to start what is a hectic, busy weekend. It was nice and quiet, which I do well with. I'm not really a people person in case you hadn't guessed. I made a handful of cards, all one basic design with slightly different variations. I did some drinking and some talking and some drinking and some cardmaking. And then I did the same things on Friday and Saturday. I ended up with 3 scrapbook pages, 2 albums in a tin, one box album and about 30 cards. So yeah, I didn't make enough. But I'm still going to send to everyone who said they'd like some, I have a ton of other ones I've made. So send me your address if you haven't already and if you actually like them I can send out more. I found I really enjoyed making them, knowing they were going to be sent out around the world (well, okay, Canada and the US and Ireland and Australia if Sam wants them) And, Beccy, I have something extra for you. But bloggy people remember I told you I can't cut straight lines and add to that that I was somewhat tipsy.

And on to the twins...remember I wrote about my friend Janine who was expecting twins and her mum has cancer? The babies were born today at noon, they were about 6 weeks early and both are in the ICN. One is incubated, and that's about all I know. Janine's mum was in the delivery room and I am so glad she was able to be there for Janine.

Almost 11. Things to do, things to do. I swear I don't know what's going on with me.

Gone!

I'm due to be picked up in 20 minutes. This morning I got up at 7 and Sophie slept until gone 9 (must have been feeling guilty for insisting on being fed at 1 am, therefore putting an end to any pre-get away sex I had planned.) I got a lot done..2 loads of laundry, gathered up all the laundry from all 4 bedrooms and the 2 upstairs bathrooms, cleaned 2 bathrooms, was going to clean the kids but shock of all shocks it was clean!, did dishes, cleaned the burners, swept and swiftered the kitchen and hallway, cleaned and vacuumed the livingroom. It was a very productive 2 hours. It should have been stuff I did last night, but of course I did not.

I know I bitch a lot about William, but really I am very lucky with him. Not a single complaint about my going away and leaving him with a tempermental baby who is breastfed 95% of the time. He rearranged his schedule so I could go a day early which a lot of men won't do. I'll put up with his grumpiness about the state of the livingroom for that!

Going, going,

I am getting very excited about this weekend away. Yep, so excited I have written two posts in a row about it. I'm also a little nervous about leaving Sophie for 3 days. Will she take the bottle? Will she scream bloody murder all weekend? Will William be totally insane by Sunday afternoon? She's way better with him now, and actually only cries if she sees me. So I'm hoping it will be okay.

This is what I have planned. Finish reading my current book, The Birth House, hopefully on the drive down so I can get right to making cards and my other planned projects, an itty bitty board book and a scrapbook tin. Plus I have a tin for my mum that I have to finish decorating and put pictures into.

Thanks to everyone who said they would like some cards. I am really hoping this inspires me to actually do them...there's nothing like a bit of self inflicted pressure. I also really, really, really hope they turn out alright. I think I've pretty much told everyone that I can't cut or score a straight line to save my life but I hope they don't all end up plain and boring. I'm going to try and make some unique (for me!) ones. So hopefully you'll all get at least one interesting one. Maybe.

I might even post pictures. I am going to take advantage of the fact that Shelley has a camera that actually downloads onto her computer. Or is it uploads? That always confuses me.

Asking bloggy favours

I'm going away in 2 days. The purpose of this weekend away is to actually do something. Scrapbook pages, cards. Something.

Now, I think you guys know me. What do you think I will do? Nothing probably. So I am asking a favour of all you lovely bloggers. Request that I make you cards.

Because if you don't I won't do anything. I sort of like the pressure of having to do stuff. My to do list? Done. At the last minute, but done.

So ask me to make you a half dozen cards. Thank you, Christmas, birthday...whatever. No new baby though, I lent out that stamp. I'm not the greatest card maker in the world, but they occassionally pass muster. So send me an email...emmamcdonnell@shaw.ca...should I have just done that?...and I'll make some cards and send them your way.

But let me know soon, because I'm packing my crap crafty stuff into the van on Wednesday night.

Dear God,

You know I very rarely complain. (Shut up, people reading this, I complain to you, not the Big Man himself.) I feel today that I am entitled to send a wee complaint your way.

I hate to tell you this but it's April. And I know you know that because we did just mark a holiday celebrating the death of your son. That's very Irish of you...celebrating a death. And yeah, I know we are actually celebrating his rising but the fact is, the man died first. I know, I know, I don't go to church enough. Stop the lecture, I realize my knowledge of all things religious is sorely lacking. You'll get your revenge in a few weeks when I sit in church for SIX HOURS with my daughter.

So anyway, I veered off topic. It's April as I was saying.

And do you know what season April falls in?

Spring. Yes, spring. Grass and flowers starting to bloom and flooded sidewalks. i really like spring, God, so tell me why I have been watching snow fall from the moment I woke up this morning?

Exactly what have I and all the other people in this city done to incur your wrath?

Give me spring God. Please. I'm not going to promise to go to church weekly because it would just be a lie. And I'm sure it would be worse to lie. Wouldn't it?

This winter weather is making me grumpy. And if there's one thing my household hates it's a grumpy mummy.

Please keep my house happy.

Love,
Emma

Because my middle name is Procrastination

I am lazy. Lazy, lazy, lazy.

This is what I was meant to do this week:

Type up school council minutes from March 12.

Type up a letter to go home to parents at school to join a fun, exciting committee! The photo committee! Because guess what! I'm not going to be at the school next year and I don't give a flying fangoozle what photographer you use!

Type up board minutes.

Type up letter to neighbours telling them what losers they are, and how they do nothing in this neigbourhood. It's not my idea, it's the president's. Why am I typing it? Because I'm a loser who can't say no.

Type up a general "you are a loser who does nothing, come see the board to tell us why you even bother to live here" participation letter to numerous neighbours.

Fax public school board to request use of school for general meeting. Was supposed to be done in Febraury. Oops.

Fax City of Ed. to sign neighbourhood up for the capit@l city cle@nup.

Sort out Easter gifts. Make sure there is some sembelance of fairness.

Find 12X12 scrapbook paper.

Decide what to take on weekend away, which is only 8 days away! Happiness abounds. Yet, sort of sad too. Am afraid this may be the end of breastfeeding.

Choose and print 5 pictures for scrapbooking party I am going to tomorrow. Creative Memories. Not really my thing. I don't like white. And it's Holy Mother of God expensive.

Phone and set up interviews for half a dozen applicants.

This is what I did this week:

Sent the two faxes.

Typed up the notice requesting volunteers for the photo committee. it was only supposed to be done in January so I figured I had better get a move on.

And that's it. Nothing else at all.

I can't even blame this on pregnancy.

Do you think I can blame it on my period?

The Obit

I just found this article about my aunt Emma at the utv site.

On another website I found her story, which is also in a book I own about women from the north of Ireland. This was written in 1995 I believe.


It was on the 4th November 1971 and the British
Army was in the district raiding houses. It was in
the early hours of the morning, which was the
normal time when they raided houses. All my
children had to be taken from their beds and as
I'm the mother of 11 children, the youngest at the
time was 5 years of age. It was very annoying and
upsetting for the children to sit and watch the
British Army ransack their home and pull
everything apart.
They had been arresting some men in the street and
one of those arrested was a neighbour of mine. He
was the father of 4 young children and his wife
was in a very distressed state. I left my house
and went to comfort her. I made some tea, got the
children dressed and gave her a tablet to try and
settle her down. I tried to assure her that her
husband would only be held a few hours. As it
turned out he was held for several years. I heard
someone shout that the paratroopers were coming
into the district so I returned to my home.
Everyone in the area was put under house arrest
which meant a soldier was put in every doorway and
no one was allowed in or out. The paratroopers
were in a very aggressive mood and were pulling
young men and boys from their homes, some in just
their bare feet, some with just their shirts and
trousers on.
I had pulled up my venetian blind and was looking
out the window and what I saw was very
frustrating. I didn't know whether to scream or
cry. The very last thing I ever saw was a young
man having his head banged off a Saracen. I told
my teenage daughter, "For God's sake, put on a
record to boost our morale". She put on "Four
Green Fields" and it had only been playing a few
minutes when a paratrooper stepped in front of my
window and fired directly into my face. This
happened in front of my children who were by this
time in hysterics. I was later told my face was in
a terrible state and the blood was everywhere. My
husband threw a towel over my face and tried to
get me out to the car to get me to hospital. One
of my neighbours from across the street ran out to
help and the soldiers threatened to shoot him. He
told them to go ahead but was going to help me no
matter what. They at first refused to let us leave
the district but my husband pulled the towel away
to show the terrible injuries and they finally let
us go.
At the hospital my eyes were so badly damaged they
had to be removed. I now wear artificial eyes and
had to receive plastic surgery to build up the
bridge of my nose. After my eyes were removed, my
family couldn't bring themselves to tell me I
would never see again. Mother Theresa of Calcutta
was in Belfast at that time and it was her who
came to my bedside and told me my eyes had been
removed. I went into very deep depression and just
wanted to die for when you are the mother of 11
children and a very active person it was very hard
to accept.
I was taken home and remained in my bedroom for a
very long time. My oldest daughter was taken out
of school and had to be mother and housekeeper to
the rest of the family. Eventually, after a lot of
help and prayers, I realised I would have to come
to terms with my blindness. It was very hard. I
missed seeing the children's faces and the colour
of the trees and flowers and going out for walks
doing the shopping.
The rubber bullet which had shot me was then
replaced with the plastic bullet and many children
were being killed and injured. I decided I would
have to get involved in trying to have these
lethal weapons banned, so I joined the United
Campaign Against Plastic Bullets. With other
members I have travelled the world to tell people
my story and enlist their support in our campaign.
I received compensation for my injuries but to
this day I couldn't tell you the name of the
soldier who shot me. He was never prosecuted and I
never received the justice I desperately wanted,
for him to appear in court and tell me why he
shattered my life that day.
To date 17 people have been killed with rubber and
plastic bullets, 8 of them school children and
hundreds more severely injured. Over £1,000,000
has been paid out in compensation but only one
member of the security forces has ever been
charged in connection with the deaths and injuries
and he was acquitted.
Plastic bullets are still being used in Northern
Ireland and have been fired on several occasions
since the cease-fire.

The camera, the neighbour and other things

Thanks to everyone for all the advice. My memory card was saved, I turned my printer on again and the pictures popped up. Now I just have to print them. God, I'm an ass about using ink. We bought a new battery for the camera and it is almost back to normal. We just have to take the battery out to turn it off. I'm thinking that once it is totally dried out it will be alright. Now I just need to figure out what to do with all the photos on my virus riddled hard drive before we buy a new one.

So my neighbour is a whack job. A complete and total piece of work. A slapper, even. And that's being kind, I could say worse. Last Monday she stops me as she is driving out and says "Hey, we're going to the mountains tomorrow can you feed the cat and dog?" Well, I am me and do not know how to say no so I said okay and she says she'll drop the key over later. She comes by that night and says "So William can let the dog out in the morning, and you can do it in the afternoon and at night." No hey, William do you mind? Which let me tell you, he does. She doesn't leave the key, but sends her girls over with it in the morning. And this is what they say to me:

"My mum says to turn off the hot water to the dishwasher when you come in. You need to feed the fish and hamster, the food is in my room."

Fish and hamster? Have I ever told you people I am not a fan of rodents? I had a hamster when I was 11 and I lost interest pretty quickly.

I say "When are you coming back?" They have no idea. 3 days, maybe 4. I have no idea how long I am obligated to these animals.

I send Taylor in that afternoon to let out the dog. When I go in that evening the dog has knocked over a can of paint. Who the hell leaves 6 cans of paint in one of the only areas your dog is able to get at? Oh yes, I forgot to mention that the dog was chained to her stairs, and not near his food. She said he would destroy her house otherwise. And could you blame him?

I could go on and on but I sense this might be very dull for youse all. Anyway, they got back on Friday and she has yet to talk to me. Her husband said thanks, and that he would have left the paint too, but not a word from her.

On Friday night a police car showed up at her house. We watched out the front door as they talked to her husband and two other men for a bit and then I made the kids shut the door. And then I made Taylor watch from the bathroom window. Yeah, so tacky and rude like that. She said the police car left with one of the men, but not the husband. Today, I heard that she had him arrested for violating a restraining order. This is all because she wants a subsidy I think. Oh, and the fact that she is crazy. This is the same woman who told people she was wearing a wig because she was losing her hair to cancer but told William she had just had a bad hair day. She also said he had left her a few months back, but oddly enough, his car was there every night. Strange. She's an odd duck.

Do you know what really pisses me off on Amazing Race? The way Mirna (or is it Charla? the bigger one anyway) talks to people who don't speak English as their first language. It's almost like she is using a Spanish sort of accent and it absolutely drives me batty. How did they manage to come in first twice? And what's with these 18 hour leads? Though I was quite thrilled to see Dustin and Kandice have to wait 4 hours for another team. I don't know who I want to see win. Either Danny and Oswald or Joyce and Uchenna.

Today I had a call from my aunt that my great aunt Emma passed away this morning. I had read a thing on the internet a few months ago that said she had died and I had only just found out she was still alive. And now she really is gone. I wish I had sent her a card or something, just to let her know I was thinking of her. I am pretty sure her obit will be in the Belfast papers, she was a pretty big activist a few years ago. I'll be looking shortly.

And that's about that. But I just have to say that I really love the American anthem. It was just on the Bachelor. I can't say I would choose to sing it to a guy, but whatever floats your boat.