reedy's rambles

I think I can decide if I would like a person without meeting them or having a conversation with them.

It is not based on looks, intelligence, or trivial questions, except for one:
What are your pet peeves?

The answer to that question should be at the heart of any compatibility question.

The answer to that question immediately can tell a person whether you are selfish, materialistic, mean, spiteful, pleasant, and even whether you are an idiot.

I was perusing blogs (don't you love the "next blog" button?) when I came across several people who listed their own pet peeves.

One blog made me laugh as I could agree that people who walk around with untied shoelaces must not have much going for them. And then another blog made me squinch my eyes in confusion as one of her pet peeves was anyone who actually thought talking about books was interesting.

I have pet peeves. I have days where I am easily annoyed. I can be judgmental. I can't help but think less of people that order their steaks well-done or teachers who wear sweats to school.

One of my greatest pet peeves is when people that ask me the same question after I have already answered them, but they just don't like me answer.

Example:
When will we receive our tuition refund?
I have no idea.
Do you think it will come by Tuesday?

Did you not hear me say, "I HAVE NO IDEA?" My "no idea" has no clarification or parameters that can be established, otherwise I would have given them in the first answer, unless I am blowing you off. And if this is true, do you really think I am going to invest in answering your second question?

See, that is a real worthwhile pet peeve.

I am wearing these:


Because the day looks like this:


But I will be with:


So all will be good.

My mom is cleaning underneath the stairs. No, I am not writing a horror story. Rain comes periodically and floods the basement causing boxes to mold and break down. So, mom bought plastic containers to store our old dolls, stuffed animals, barbies, and assorted childhood memories. She had everything strewn all over the basement floor. We divided our childhood into piles, so that we can take our prizes to our own establishments at a later time (I honestly think that they are going to remain under the stairs until kingdom comes). But none of this is what has prompted me to write.

Skating Kimberly is the reason for this post. On an impulse, I searched the internet for a picture of Kimberly. I typed "Kimberly doll skate." And I found her:


I can't believe I remembered her name! Now, my "Kimberly" did not look like the picture. My Kimberly's skates are long gone, her hair is no longer perfect, and her left foot is . . . Well, it has been . . . chewed off. But don't worry, she had a toilet paper cast molded to her leg. No doubt the result of a tragic skating accident.

Here's what I thought about today. Did I realize when I created Kim's cast that it would be the last time I thought she could break her leg? Did I know that she would disappear into a box under stairs only to end up with mold in her Californian hair? When is the exact moment you stop playing with a doll? When does she stop being a friend and start being a memory? Each doll and stuffed animal had a last moment.

Kimberly's fate was not the trash can today. I just couldn't do it. She got a ticket in the box (cast and all).

Today I went over to Grandma Reedy's house for a rousing game of Sequence (or 5 since I was dtermined to beat my 90 year old grandma). As we were playing, I heard a voice (that was straight from a horror movie) saying, "Hello? Hello? Can I ask you a few questions? Hello, my name is Martha. I would like to ask you a few questions." I jumped up as my grandma tried to decide which 2 of hearts to play. As I looked through the door (what do you call those holes that let you see outside?), I saw an old woman in a walker talking to the iomaginary person she had a few questions for. At this point, I probably should have 1) Felt sorry for her 2) Opened the door to see if she needed help or possibly 3) Answered her.

Instead, I got so scared. That's right, scared. I went back to my own grandma (who was also talking to herself, but that doesn't bother me because it usually makes sense). I told her about what I witnessed. Without even looking up she said, "I don't like to get involved with the neighbors."

After I was declared the Sequence champion (a title I take very seriously), Grandma decided to walk me downstairs. As the elevator door opened, there was Martha! Grandma pulled me into the elevator, and we laughed so hard, Grandma was literally doubled over.

"Ms. Reedy, I think I know who you could marry."

"Kentrel, let's not try to set up your teacher, OK?"

"Can you wait 6 years?"

"What?"

"I'm legal in 6 years, Ms. Reedy."

"Kentrel, this conversation is highly inappropriate."

"How about then adopting me and I'd be your kid?"

There is not very much time left of 2006's premiere day. It feels good that the first day of 2006 is a Sunday. I went to a different church today. I have visited there before. I don't know if this will become my church home, but I knew I didn't want to start 2006 not going to church.

I am so thankful that I don't have to go back to work tomorrow. I need one more day. All day long I have tried tricking myself that I did have to go back to work on Monday and then actually feel that I received an extra day off. I know, ridiculous.

Today we had a champagne brunch at the casino, courtesy of dad's poker skills, you gotsta love comps.

I love that it is January and I have the back door cracked. Normally, I hate unseasonable weather for the reason that it takes me so much longer to decide what to wear. My brain says January, but needing to dress Septemberly can bring me to a tizzy. I can hear my windchimes, I love that sound. The condo association is trying to outlaw windchimes, so they can't cause a nuisance to others. I think that is an incredible waste of time.

I received two clocks for Christmas. I think people are trying to send me a message. Wow, that was one random thought.

I think the more random my posts, the more I have on my mind.

I try to think of every other possible thought in my brain to keep from actualizing what I am really thinking about. I try to stir my thoughts. However, you don't stir something when you want clarity, you have to let the contents settle, either at the top or the bottom. I am a thought procrastinator.

That is not the only thought that will occupy my mind before I fall asleep tonight, but my hand feels heavy and I do not want to waste my last free day in bed tomorrow, so I need to get to sleep.