Barbie Turns 50
LLOOOLL, my sweet Kuwaiti friend is also sharp, with a sharp edge, and sends me some of the funniest things I have ever seen: Barbie Turns 50, LLOOLL
About a year ago, when I first moved back to Doha, I decided to use up a bunch of pink scraps that had collected over the years – baby girl quilts, friend quilts – pink isn’t my favorite color, but I hate waste. I chose a pattern I thought would be easy, but then . . . I started playing. I always associate pink with Barbie, you know, that Pepto-Bismo pink? Bubble-gum pink? And then I thought “What if Barbie got an edge? What would Barbie look like in real life, the light innocent pinks of girlhood? The hot passion of teen-age crushes? The elegant reds of romance and the purples of betrayal? What would she look like when menopause hits?”
I ended up taking a lot of time, finding just the right colors and trying them out in different places. I grouped similar pinks in different areas, with a light rent down the center – aren’t our lives often divided by events? As it turned out . . . I had a lot of fun playing with the idea of Barbie growing up, becoming a real person, and experiencing all the things women experience. Maybe men too, but I wouldn’t know, LOL! (I still have a pile of pink scraps left over, aaarrgh!)
Who Is the Terrorist?
Sent by my Kuwaiti friend; I almost died laughing and I hope you will, too:
Polite Reminder
Don’t you love this sign? It is so polite! Asking people not to smoke, even though it is outside, and – LOL – even though this restaurant encourages shisha smokers!
Irish Jokes for St. Patrick’s Day
Thanks to an e-mail friend with the BEST jokes!
Gotta Love the Irish
Paddy was driving down the street in a sweat because he had an important meeting and couldn’t find a parking place. Looking up to heaven he said, “Lord take pity on me. If you find me a parking place I will go to Mass every Sunday for the rest of me life and give up me Irish Whiskey!”
Miraculously, a parking place appeared.
Paddy looked up again and said, “Never mind, I found one.”
+ + + +
Father Murphy walks into a pub in Donegal, and asks the first man he meets, “Do you want to go to heaven?”
The man said, “I do, Father.”
The priest said, “Then stand over there against the wall.”
Then the priest asked the second man, “Do you want to go to heaven?”
“Certainly, Father,” the man replied.
“Then stand over there against the wall,” said the priest.
Then Father Murphy walked up to O’Toole and asked, “Do you want to go to heaven?”
O’Toole said, “No, I don’t Father.”
The priest said, “I don’t believe this.. You mean to tell me that when you die you don’t want to go to heaven?”
O’Toole said, “Oh, when I die , yes. I thought you were getting a group together to go right now.”
+ + + +
Paddy was in New York .
He was patiently waiting and watching the traffic cop on a busy street crossing. The cop stopped the flow of traffic and shouted, “Okay, pedestrians. ” Then he’d allow the traffic to pass.
He’d done this several times, and Paddy still stood on the sidewalk.
After the cop had shouted, “Pedestrians! ” for the tenth time, Paddy went over to him and said, “Is it not about time ye let the Catholics across?”
+ + + +
Gallagher opened the morning newspaper and was dumbfounded to read in the obituary column that he had died. He quickly phoned his best friend, Finney.
“Did you see the paper?” asked Gallagher. “They say I died!!”
“Yes, I saw it!” replied Finney. “Where are ye callin’ from?”
+ + +
An Irish priest is driving down to New York and gets stopped for speeding in Connecticut . The state trooper smells alcohol on the priest’s breath and then sees an empty wine bottle on the floor of the car.
He says, “Sir, have you been drinking?”
“Just water,” says the priest.
The trooper says, “Then why do I smell wine?”
The priest looks at the bottle and says, “Good Lord! He’s done it again!”
+ + + +
Walking into the bar, Mike said to Charlie the bartender, “Pour me a stiff one – just had another fight with the little woman.”
“Oh yeah?” said Charlie , “And how did this one end?”
“When it was over,” Mike replied, “She came to me on her hands and knees.”
“Really,” said Charles, “Now that’s a switch! What did she say?”
She said, “Come out from under the bed, you little chicken.”
+ + + +
Patton staggered home very late after another evening with his drinking buddy, Paddy. He took off his shoes to avoid waking his wife, Kathleen.
He tiptoed as quietly as he could toward the stairs leading to their upstairs bedroom, but misjudged the bottom step. As he caught himself by grabbing the banister, his body swung around and he landed heavily on his rump. A whiskey bottle in each back pocket broke and made the landing especially painful.
Managing not to yell, Patton sprung up, pulled down his pants, and looked in the hall mirror to see that his butt cheeks were cut and bleeding. He managed to quietly find a full box of Band-Aids and began putting a Band-Aid as best he could on each place he saw blood.
He then hid the now almost empty Band-Aid box and shuffled and stumbled his way to bed.
In the morning, Patton woke up with searing pain in both his head and butt and Kathleen staring at him from across the room.
She said, “You were drunk again last night weren’t you?”
Patton said, “Why you say such a mean thing?”
“Well,” Kathleen said, “it could be the open front door, it could be the broken glass at the bottom of the stairs, it could be the drops of blood trailing through the house, it could be your bloodshot eyes, but mostly …… it’s all those Band-Aids stuck on the hall mirror.
Camelot
Another highlight of the day yesterday – husband came home early. I can count the number of times that has happened on one hand. He said he would take me for dinner, any restaurant in the souks. I decided on the Cafe Brussels, because I thought a salad would be good on a warm March evening.
As we parked, AdventureMan’s sharp eyes spotted something new, something I have either totally missed, or something that really is new – a herd of camels, enclosed near the old fort.
He started whistling. Camelot.
He always knows how to make me laugh. While I was shooting photos, he was going to get me in to get up close for some shots. ‘no! no! I protested, I am fine here, behind the fence!’ He said that was good, because the policeman/guard was busy texting, and didn’t want to be bothered. . .
The souk is filled with people, people shopping, people eating. It delights me to see that this area has become such a magnet for all peoples, expats and locals. The evening weather is perfect right now, and so many people were there, taking advantage of the lovely evening.
Warrior Woman Does Not Buy a New Car
It’s a beautiful day in Pensacola, I had baby duty all morning, but the afternoon is mine. I’ve been wanting to buy a new car; I could buy it and have it waiting for me when I come back. I know the car I want, the model, the color, everything I want – and do not want. The only thing that holds me back is that I hate the whole car buying process. I remember Saturn – nice car, pretty colors, drove well and you walk in and there is one price, and that is the price for everyone. I don’t know what happened. They stopped making Saturns.
So first, I just decided to see if I could find the place. I found it. Then I decided to drive around the lot and see what they had. I did that. Then I decided just to walk into the lobby and see if they had anything like price sheets there, although I had already done my research online. There was a nice young man waiting outside just for me, and he took me on a test drive. Here is what is really cool. Have you ever driven a car so new that it had one mile on the odometer?
I love the car. I had one like it before. This particular car had some features I didn’t care about and don’t want to pay for.
I know what I want. I know what I want to pay. He showed me figures. I told him what I wanted and what I was willing to pay. He printed out a bunch of stuff so he could explain to me why the car he wanted to sell me was going to cost more. I told him what I wanted and what I was willing to pay for it. He had to go talk to his manager. He came back with more figures. I told him what I wanted and what I was willing to pay for it. He went to get his manager.
I told him what I wanted and what I was willing to pay for it. He said he couldn’t sell me the car at that price, so I smiled and shook everybody’s hands and thanked them for their time and I left, after more discussion. I think they were shocked I walked out. I was shocked too.
And delighted.
“But you still don’t have the car!” my son reminded me.
I know I don’t have the car. It’s OK. I have time. I don’t know if this makes sense to you, but I just feel so good! I didn’t buy a car I didn’t want! I stuck by my guns! I know what I want (and what I don’t want and don’t want to pay for) and what I am willing to pay, and I believe with all my heart I am going to find my car at my price (it’s a reasonable price.) I am so proud of myself for not being talked into buying the car I didn’t want at the price I didn’t want to pay!
Who Will be my Friends?
This will be my 31st move.
When I moved back to Doha, as I sighed and packed boxes, I took a few minutes to sit down and count them up. 31 moves. A lifetime of changing houses . . .
Until I get to the new location, I am caught up in the crushing details of moving – decisions on what to take, what to leave and to whom, closing accounts, opening accounts, blah blah blah. It can be overwhelming. I always think about that old joke about “how do you eat an elephant?” and the answer is “one bite at a time.” It’s the same with moving. Don’t look at the big picture, just keep moving, one detail at a time, and it all works out.
But when I get there, I wonder who will be my friends? It can be a lonely 6 months to a year while waiting for the right friends to come along. I make friends easily, but the ones who are going to stick, those tried and true friends – it takes a while to figure out who those are going to be.
We are lucky this time, we have family waiting for us. Our son is already educating us on how to pronounce local streets and areas (No, Mom, not “Sehr-vahn’-teys” as the Spanish would say it, but “Sir-van’tees”, not “Tex’-are” but “Te-har”, LOL) and what attitudes and perceptions we might best keep to ourselves if we want to get along.
We want to get along. Ironically, moving back to our own country is more daunting than moving to another expat community. The expat communities are relatively open and fluid, people coming and going all the time, willing to accept new members and welcome them in. This move is going to be to a very different life and a very different community from that in which we have lived the last thirty something years . . . God always sends me good friends. I just wonder who those friends will be?
Anxiety and Me
Anxiety and me – we go a long way back.
I am greatly familiar with anxiety . . . it is almost genetic. Maybe I was born of a family of worriers, people who looked for all the worst possibilities, and then ruined a perfectly good day by focusing on things that might – or might not – ever happen.
Today’s reading from Forward Day by Day was just what I needed now, with a tiny newborn grandson who is coughing, and a house inspection which shows some things that need to be done, and a moving process about to take place, and an earth-shaking retirement . . . if you are the praying kind, I would ask for your prayers for peace of mind, strength in service and courage in the face of adversities and challenges.
FRIDAY, February 19
Philippians 4:1-9. Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanks-giving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing…if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.
Anxiety is a kind of fear–not of God, but of the unknown future. It is unreality. We draw the unreal future into the present and proceed to stab ourselves with it.
How passionately Jesus strove to overcome our delusion of crossing bridges before we come to them! Imagine an able and loving father whose children ran about in panic lest next year they might not have food to eat or clothes to wear.
Anxiety is a symptom. The disease is mis¬trust of our heavenly Father. The cure is to look around and see what he has done for us already and to thank him for it. How many lovely things, how much to praise him for! If anything is needed, ask: and then leave it to God. If he doesn’t give it, so much the better. It wasn’t needed. What God always will give–if we trust him–is his peace, the best gift. (1946)
PRAY for the Diocese of Bath and Wells (Canterbury, England)
Ps 95 & 31 * 35; Ezekiel 18:1-4, 25-32; John 17:9-19
One Brown Glove
Have I told you how cold it is in Pensacola?
People here are in fur coats, and gloves!
Today we drove up the Bayou and saw what we thought might be a run-over animal on the road, but it turned out to be one brown glove.
We were laughing at how easy it is to lose gloves – to end up with one of several different pairs. My Mom used to make us wear mittens that had a string attatching them; you ran it through the coat and out both arms so you wouldn’t be losing so many mittens. In Alaska, you really need those mittens.
I still have a pair of Nordic mittens my Mom knit me. No. No. They are not attached by strings; they are grown up mittens, LLLOOOOLLLL!
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