Mandigirl Muses: Miscellaneous Observations

Nutty Bars are quite possibly the most addictive food on the planet. I don't have a special affinity for either peanut butter or wafer cookies. As for chocolate, I'm sure no explanation is necessary. However, the combination of these three together is for me a personal vice -- a thousand times better than chocolate alone. It is a literal impossibility for me to resist their call. I rarely buy them because I know what a strong hold they have over me, but recently, as an attempt at compromise, I purchased the 100 calorie Nutty Bars. Ultimately, that doesn't matter when one eats 1200 calories of Nutty Bar goodness over the course of a day.

About 10% of the all hope scriptures in the Bible are in the book of Job. Of the one hundred and forty some-odd scriptures on hope, fifteen of them are in the Book of Job, while David wrote another 25 in the Psalms. 1/3 of all the hope scriptures in the Bible were from these two men: both crazy, both persecuted, both mistreated, both challenged, both amazing.

There seem to be three major categories of blogs on Blogger.com: Generally crafty Christian mommies, Brazilian blogs, or Porn sites. For some reason, when I scan through, I seem to find little else. Strange.

I have an intense fear of failure. Every time I seem to get close to success, and am literally terrified of falling on my face. So sometimes, I don't fall on accident. Sometimes I get so scared of falling, that I make myself fall. I go out of my way to stumble on something to control the fact that I fall, and in falling, I mean failing. Actually, when I really think about it, I fail at very little. I mean, I do have average goof-ups, and general mistakes, and random faux pas, but nothing that would really be classified as an all-out failure. In spite of that, I am really just so remarkably terrified of failing. I'm afraid of the repercussions of failure. I'm afraid to end up under a bridge with children gone wild and me as the single homeless person with a weight problem. I am scared to fail -- at this, and at life.

My purse is not a purse. It is a saddle bag, at best. I am the pack mule of motherhood. Let me share with you its contents:

A very large black wallet. On the box, I think it was literally called, "The Enormous Wallet." It has card slots, photo slots, money slots, receipt slots, zipper pouches, a checkbook holder, key rings, and a calculator all built in. I think there may also be a man servant and periodic table of the elements, just in case.

A tiny little case of really, really hot mints. I swear to you, these mints are the Hiroshima of Halitosis. Bub got them at some booth at the fair, and when they burned six years of taste buds off his tongue, he gave them to me. Lucky.

A kid pocket that has within itself two DumDum suckers, three rocks, a spare house key, seven pennies, a random tube of Peony lipstick (a color I hate, but that bribes Gracie), a business card for the pediatrician's office, and two note cards filled with scribbles.

A black Rolodex business card wallet. This baby snaps closed and can hold up to 36 business card-sized cards of my choice. I use it to organize my shopping club cards, gift cards, punch cards, business cards (really?), insurance cards, and season passes to this place or that. Because it snaps closed, I store within it larger notes, papers, or coupons I need to keep with me. This is my example of organization on the go, and it makes me smile every time I go to Kroger.

An extremely large spiral for taking notes or recording various occasions of randomness. It also comes in handy for making lists, which is another thing that makes me smile. I say large because it really is. It's far too big to be carried in a purse. It's not quite academic size, but just nearly.

A plastic pink hair tie.

Six grocery store receipts.

A tiny spring. (What in the world?)

Two things torn from the November issue of Family Fun magazine: Daddy Letters and a recipe for Apple Pie Party dip.

Two bottles of Bub's afternoon ADHD meds. He takes one prescription, so why am I carrying two bottles?

Cover Girl powder foundation in Classic Ivory. I have no skin color. I'm nearly as pale as they come. This is my "summer" makeup.

A broken pen. Maybe this explains the spring!

Five 15% off coupons for The Children's Place. Someday, evidently, there will be a spree.

Three sample packages of Aveeno Baby Soothing Relief Moisture Cream. I grabbed these at the pediatrician's office last week to give to DeDe, but they smell so good and work so well on my fall-to-winter skin that I'm keeping them. So there.

A bank deposit slip.

A check stub for reimbursables.

A credit card offer from Household Bank. Act now - Don't delay! Whatever.

Conference notes from school visits last week. Geniuses, just as I thought.

A newsletter from the Denton Organic Society called "The Ladybug Express." Does my having the newsletter count for anything? My intentions are good...

One blue comb.

Three used tissues.

A blue plastic necklace with large round beads. Not mine.

Two white shoes strings. One can never be too prepared. No, seriously, these are for practicing when we're sitting and waiting for something. Clarification: these are for the kids to practice with, not me.