notinKansasanymore

I just gave my last final. By this time tomorrow, my grades will be turned in, and I WILL BE FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! Yiiiiiiiiiippeeeeeeeeeeedoooooooooooohdaaaaaaah! (Sound of outrageous laughter, heaing off into the sunset . . . . . .)

Does anybody know where Kent is, these days?

They're wonderful. I'd love to find them again.

Any leads on these two neat people?

Years ago, I heard that he and Sue had opened a cheesecake shop in one of the larger Ohio cities. Sorry, that's all I know.

(((((((Rocky))))))))) (((((((((Rocky's daughter))))))))))

ah, notfernuthinbut, who's bally boy? I humbly apologize for being out of the loop uninitiated in the dark out of fellowship ohtheholyjargon

Sorry, Rock! I confused yesterday with Thursday all day long; kept catching myself on the wrong day. But you can keep all of the prayers, anyway! Ex- not so much big heads, but big pickup trucks, big dogs, and big Western dancehalls. Oh, and one reeeeeally big dinosaur skeleton.

That reminds me. If you folks are planning any summer trips, and you will be driving through Central Oklahoma on your way to anywhere else, we have the biggest apatosaurus skeleton (think brontosaurus) in the world. It's pretty groovy. Today's the day for Rocky! You go, guy!

Hi, also. Beautiful Spring evening. Nice night for a T-ball game.

I liked Steve Tully. Maybe Craig chewed him out so hard because he knew, deep down, that Tully was MUCH MORE OF A MAN than he was. On another note, THANK YOU for your prayers for my family. Now this individual says that she's not moving away, and not taking the teenagers out of state. My husband and I slept better last night than we have in a week. I understand that life is supposed to be a learning adventure, but I could have done withoug learning what it feels like to think that your family is going to be split apart like that. Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeew. Thanks, again, to each and every one of you who prayed. She's still looking for ways to leave, so toss one topside for us every now and again, O.K.? Rocky, I'm going to be thinking of you and praying for you and your daughter on Thursday, "for all the marbles." You're the best, man.

Rockaroundtheclock, Good luck next Thursday, bud.

Oh, coooool. We have eighteen pages now! Quoth the firkin, "post some more!"

Rockomundo, I feel your pain. That sounds precisely like the condition for which good ol' Sparky is being lubricated . . . I mean, medicated. Today was his last day on the sauce, and I'm a little afraid to see what he leaves for us during the kitty recess hours tonight. By the way, his name is "Sparky" because when his was a kitten, he loved to play with electrical wires. Hey, you guys. When your read this, please say a little prayer for my family. There's something up, and we have to figure out a way to fix it, or else live with it, and we don't like it. It has to do with somebody (who currently lives only six blocks from us) who wants to move out of state, and take our precious teenagers with her. They are my stepchildren, and half-siblings to my little ones. I think that prayer works best when it's prayed by people who love you, and for me, some of those people are you. So, see all six of us still living in the same town, okay? Thanks.

Yes, it's right when you settle down and close your eyes for a good night's sleep. Any self-respecting nocturnal animal goes ballistic with pleasure at this exact moment, and starts playing with anything that will make noise. If it looks as though it rattles, crunches, spills, or breaks, my cats will honor that potential. It's their sworn duty. Sparky also loves to eat our shoelaces, and chooses the quiet peacefullness of the night hours to complete this important work undisturbed.

So, I have this cat who develped a condition for which the vet is having us give him kitty valium for a couple of weeks. Ever had a loaded cat in your house? Yup, Sparky's high. His pupils are dilated, and he's got the munchies. I just caught him lying on his back, feet in the air, playing with imaginary mice that must have been floating about a foot off of the ground. Meeeeeeow. (hic) Meeeeee(hic)ooow.

By the way, the Easter bunny happened by our place this morning. He left little plastic eggs, with Fruit Loops in them. Our kitty who lives in the back yard had a lot of fun batting them around, because they rattled. The Easter bunny also left a couple of little bunny stuffed animals, sitting in the garden chairs. The Easter bunny never seems to leave much chocolate for my kids; what does he leave at your house?

Rocky, thank you. The anniversary of the bombing is always a somber day around here. I knew many people who worked in the building, because an ex-boyfriend of mine was officed there. In fact, he and his whole office moved out of the 6th floor of "that" side of the building about a month before the bombing. I was about to begin teaching a sophomore high school English class, and happened to glance at a television in another teacher's room, on my way in to take roll. I hadn't dated the guy for about five or six months, and didn't know that they'd moved for several hours. After eight years with this fellow, I knew and liked many of his co-workers. It was a relief to learn that they were allright. One of my former student's Dad was one of the federal agents for whose death Timothy McVeigh was executed. Well, kind of makes a person thankful for the folks that we have left, and thankful that we are among them. Beautiful day, today, by the way.

I went to a kickboxing class awhile back; the next day, I felt like my whole body was smoked. Cut, dried, rolled and smushed, and smoked. Beating the heck out of a big, heavy bag is hard work, canIgetawitness. Reminded me of running the jackhammer after being 30 seconds late for Corps night. Thing is, though, they thought that they were punishing us, and so did I at the time, but in hindsight, where else would I get to find out what it's like to run a jackhammer? Looking back, maybe I had a better deal than the folks in top floor Wierwille.

When we were at Emporia, I always honestly earned my aerobics points every week. The problem was, I never really had the time to exercise, so I always got all of my weekly points in the last hour before they were due. That's a lot of jumprope-jumping, stair-climbing, and whatevertheheckelseing in an hour, lemmetellya. I call it "procrastinaction."

So, if you could have your ashes sprinkled anywhere, where would that be? Anybody here donating the earthly coil, once it's shuffled off, to science or medicine? I had a friend who lost her husband when they were both in their early twenties, and she donated his body in that way. About two years later, the medical school was finished with it, and she got a very nice box with his ashes, and a letter of thanks. She and her two young daughters scattered them. It's a vewwy heavy topic for the coowest thwead on the website.

Okay, one of my students sent this in an e-mail. I practically had to get out the defibrillator just to read it, and had to share it with you guys. Here it is: For all of you who occasionally have a really bad day when you just need to take it out on someone! Don't take that bad day out on someone you know, take it out on someone you DON'T know! Now get this. I was sitting at my desk, when I remembered a phone call I had to make. I found the number, and dialed it. A man answered nicely saying, "Hello?" I politely said, "This is Patrick Hanifin, and could I please speak to Robin Carter?" Suddenly the phone was slammed down on me! I couldn't believe that anyone could be that rude. I tracked down Robin's correct number, and called her. She had transposed the last two digits incorrectly. After I hung up with Robin, I spotted the wrong number still lying there on my desk. I decided to call it again. When the same person once more answered, I yelled "You're a jackass!" and hung up. Next to his phone number I wrote the word "jackass," and put it in my desk drawer. Every couple of weeks, when I was paying bills, or had a really bad day, I'd call him up. He'd answer, and I'd yell, "You're a jackass!" It would always cheer me up. Later in the year the phone company introduced caller ID. This was a real disappointment for me, I would have to stop calling the jackass. Then one day I had an idea. I dialed his number, then heard his voice, "Hello." I made up a name. "Hi. This is the sales office of the telephone company, and I'm just calling to see if you're familiar with our caller ID program?" He went, "No!" and slammed the phone down. I quickly called him back and said, "That's because you're a jackass!" The reason I took the time to tell you this story, is to show you how if there's ever anything really bothering you, you can do something about it. Just dial 823-4863. [Keep reading, it gets better.] The old lady at the mall really took her time pulling out of the parking space. I didn't think she was ever going to leave. Finally, her car began to move, and she started to very slowly back out of the slot. I backed up a little more to give her plenty of room to pull out. Great, I thought, she's finally leaving. All of a sudden this black Camaro came flying up the parking aisle in the wrong direction, and pulled into her space. I started honking my horn, and yelling, "You can't just do that, Buddy. I was here first!" The guy climbed out of his Camaro completely ignoring me. He walked toward the mall as if he didn't even hear me. I thought to myself, "this guy's a jackass, there sure are a lot of jackasses in this world." I noticed he had a "For Sale" sign in the back window of his car. I wrote down the number. Then I hunted for another place to park. A couple of days later, I'm at home sitting at my desk. I had just gotten off the phone after calling 823-4863, and yelling, "You're jackass!" (It's really easy to call him now since I have his number on speed dial.) I noticed the phone number of the guy with the black Camaro lying on my desk, and thought I better call this guy too. He answered the phone, and said, "Hello." I said, "Is this the man with the black Camaro for sale?" "Yes, it is." "Can you tell me where I can see it?" "Yes, I live at 1802 West 34th street. It's a yellow house and the car's parked right out front." I said, "What's your name?" "My name is Don Hansen." "When's a good time to catch you, Don?" "I'm home in the evenings." "Listen Don, can I tell you something?" "Yes." "Don, you're a jackass!" And I slammed the phone down. After I hung up I added Don Hansen's number to my speed dialer. For a while things seemed to be going better for me. Now when I had a problem I had two jackasses to call. Then, after several months of calling the jackasses, and hanging up on them, it just wasn't as enjoyable as it used to be. I gave the problem some serious thought, and came up with a solution: First, I had my phone dial Jackass #1. A man answered nicely saying, "Hello." I yelled "You're a jackass!" But I didn't hang up. The jackass said, "Are you still there?" I said, "Yeah." He said, "Stop calling me." I said, "No." He said, "What's your name, Pal?" I said, "Don Hansen." He said "Where do you live?" "1802 West 34th Street. It's a yellow house, and my black Camaro's parked out front." "I'm coming over right now, Don. You'd better start saying your prayers." "Yeah, like I'm really scared, Jackass!" And I hung up. Then I called Jackass #2. He answered, "Hello." I said, "Hello, Jackass!" He said, "If I ever find out who you are..." "You'll what?" "I'll kick your butt." "Well, here's your chance. I'm coming over right now Jackass!" And I hung up. Then I picked up the phone, and called the police. I told them I was at 1802 West 34th Street and that I was going to kill my gay lover as soon as he got home. Another quick call to Channel 13 about the gang war going on down W. 34th Street. After that I climbed into my car, and headed over to 34th Street to watch the whole thing. Glorious! Watching two Jackasses kicking the crap out of each other in front of 6 squad cars, and a police helicopter was one of the greatest experiences of my life!

You guys cwack me up.

Teuw it agaaaaaain, for tummwone needs it, Teuw it agaaaaaaain. (cwap, cwap) Teuw it agaaaaaaain, tiw tummwone heeds it, Teuw it agaaaaaaain. (cwap, cwap) Deuw's no odder towey to bwing men to gwowey, so teuw it, and teuw it, and teuw it agaaaaaaain.

Tommytuttletutu, this is the firkin's song. (You have to imagine the Alvin-the-Chipmunk voice, and if you toss a little Elmer Fudd in there as well, it works nicely.) My hoht can sing when I paws to wemehmber, A hohtache hew, is but a stepping stone Awong a twaaaaail Dat's woinding awwaaaaaaaaaays upwooooooooooohd, Dis twubbod woooooooohd Is not my finaw hooooooooooome. Thus quoth the firkin. (You know that they all like a big finish; lots of vibwatto at the end.) By the way, does anybody have a copy of Dan Keye's masterful reworking of Poe's "The Raven," about the firkin? The only line that I can quite remember is "Quoth the firkin: Give me more!" I think that the firkin's immediate objective was gorp.