Remember when you were little and you imagined your stuffed animals playing while you were downstairs or in school? (Think Toy Story if you didn't have stuffed animals that played.) Now that I am older, I am thinking that maybe my appliances, car and camera all hang out, play beer pong and decide which one should screw with my checking account and break. They must have gotten really carried away lately because first it was the dishwasher who spewed water all over the kitchen floor. A few weeks later, the maintenance light in my car went on and I thought, "No big deal, I just need an oil change." Well, when I went into the Honda garage yesterday, the man noticed my 10% off coupon and said, "Oh, that will save you about $30." Thanks to my stellar math skills, I knew that meant I was going to be spending $300 on my "oil change" (read: major servicing at 55,000 miles).
I have been having dreams about my camera not working properly and have seen a lot of pictures on my computer that were blurry, so putting 2 and 2 together (see, stellar math skills), I am thinking that I have to send my baby away to get checked out. My camera is like an appendage, this could be very hard.
Last night, I was finally sitting on the couch surfing Facebook on my laptop while watching TV while the girls finished up their homework (yes, a Walton's moment), when I could hear water running into the washing machine. That would have been music to my ears, but I had moments before just heard the load finish. That's right, the washing machine must have lost at beer pong yesterday and it became the next major appliance I need to replace.
I hope the girls understand and appreciate their presents under the Christmas tree this year. B's present will be a picture of the dishwasher, K's will be a picture of the washing machine, mine will be a picture of my camera and the family present will be a picture of the car. Who knew I could finish my shopping by the end of October?
Showing posts with label money. Show all posts
Showing posts with label money. Show all posts
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
That Certain Golfer...
Golf was a major part of my growing up. Not me playing it, but my dad playing it and my parents watching it. Put a few appetizers in front of me and golf on TV on a weekend and I am right back to being 12 in my family's living room.
Watching it was not very exciting until a certain golfer came on the scene and shook things up with his fist pump and youthful energy. He was fun to watch and seemed like a total family guy, first with his parents and then with his hot wife.
Fame takes a toll (I am guessing here) and he made some very bad, very stupid mistakes in the real world. One might think he would have packed himself up and made himself virtually invisible.
Not so much.
People magazine had a spread of his new home in Florida just this week. My girls were drooling over it (OK, so was I). You haven't seen it? Here you go. We loved the lap pool, the 50 yd dash, the views of the water, yeah pretty much everything. B and I actually brainstormed on how I could get to date him because we wanted to live there. Yeah, nevermind about a leopard not changing his spots. Girls can dream, right?
Low and behold this famous golfer was in the news yesterday as well. He spit on a golf course at the 12th hole.
Seriously, this is news.
Golf is a gentleman's sport in a way that football, baseball and hockey (to name a few) are not. The most reaction you generally get out of a golfer is a smile and a fist pump. Sometimes they jump in the air. Evidently they are not allowed to spit. In one article I read, someone was intensely disgusted that their ball could ROLL THROUGH ANOTHER GOLFER'S SPIT. I wonder what the golf pros do when a bird flies over the course and relieves himself. Do they have sharp shooters waiting in the trees?
So even though this particular golfer is suppose to make $300,000 at this golf tournament, he could be subjected to pay $16,000 for spitting.
I think I have just solved the financial crisis in America. Fine every baseball player $16,000 each time he spits and have the money go to families who's houses are foreclosing, or who have lost jobs or who are just trying to get by.
Sometimes my genious amazes me.
Watching it was not very exciting until a certain golfer came on the scene and shook things up with his fist pump and youthful energy. He was fun to watch and seemed like a total family guy, first with his parents and then with his hot wife.
Fame takes a toll (I am guessing here) and he made some very bad, very stupid mistakes in the real world. One might think he would have packed himself up and made himself virtually invisible.
Not so much.
People magazine had a spread of his new home in Florida just this week. My girls were drooling over it (OK, so was I). You haven't seen it? Here you go. We loved the lap pool, the 50 yd dash, the views of the water, yeah pretty much everything. B and I actually brainstormed on how I could get to date him because we wanted to live there. Yeah, nevermind about a leopard not changing his spots. Girls can dream, right?
Low and behold this famous golfer was in the news yesterday as well. He spit on a golf course at the 12th hole.
Seriously, this is news.
Golf is a gentleman's sport in a way that football, baseball and hockey (to name a few) are not. The most reaction you generally get out of a golfer is a smile and a fist pump. Sometimes they jump in the air. Evidently they are not allowed to spit. In one article I read, someone was intensely disgusted that their ball could ROLL THROUGH ANOTHER GOLFER'S SPIT. I wonder what the golf pros do when a bird flies over the course and relieves himself. Do they have sharp shooters waiting in the trees?
So even though this particular golfer is suppose to make $300,000 at this golf tournament, he could be subjected to pay $16,000 for spitting.
I think I have just solved the financial crisis in America. Fine every baseball player $16,000 each time he spits and have the money go to families who's houses are foreclosing, or who have lost jobs or who are just trying to get by.
Sometimes my genious amazes me.
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