Randomness of fonts

So TheManTheMyth and Thing 1 left on their Adventure yesterday morning and lemme tell you, last night I was missing them something awful.  Which is unusual since they're gone racing just about every other weekend and they've been doing this for how many years now and there's been times I've looked forward to them being gone for the weekend but not this time.  I dunno why.  I don't even know if they've made it to their destination (Murphy, Idaho) or if they're still puttering along.  I guess I'll just have to wait for a phone call.
*
*
Once again, Blogger has decided that IT will decided which font I can and cannot use and I guess it's decided that I must use the small "Times" font even though I keep choosing the larger "Verdana" font.  It will switch fonts on me when I start a new paragraph, when I type a new word and sometimes even in the middle of the word if I stop typing for a moment.   It's a non-stop battle between Blogger and me and this time, I'll let it think it's won so it can see how STUPID this whole thing is.  If someone knows how I can choose a default font, let me know so that I can be WINNING this battle of wills between Time and Verdana.
*
*
Early this morning, Gracie Lou jumped off the bed (she sleeps with us) trotted off down the hall.   When she didn't come back right away, I sat up and listened and I could hear her doing something so I called to her and she came scampering back to bed and snuggled in, looking EXTREMELY guilty of something.  Something she didn't want to talk about and she pretended to be sound asleep when I gave her an inquiring stare.

So when I got up at the decadent hour of 8:00am, I did a quick reconnaissance of the living room and didn't see anything unusual.  And then I went into my office to check my e-mail and saw something on the rug:

That thing next to her half-chewed Chewstix was what was left of a 12" long leather bookmark.  She had eaten the other 11" of it.
*
*
Our local Borders bookstore is one of the many that went to the Chopping Block.  I'm pretty bummed because not only did I spend a lot of time there, I had also spent a lot of money there.  And it was the only bookstore around that carried a specific magazine I love.

It's been a month since the "EVERYTHING MUST GO!!" sales went up and it was only yesterday I finally ventured in.  Everything was 40% off the list price and I got 3 books that were on my Kindle wish list for less than the Kindle price so WINNING!  So now I have 3 more books to add to my pile of Books To Be Read, a pile that contains books I bought a year ago but haven't even picked up since.  So of course it makes sense to buy more books.  Well, it makes sense to ME.
*
*
I have absolutely no plans for this weekend sans TheManTheMyth.  I suppose I COULD do some Spring Cleaning (stop laughing) and take a load of stuff to the Goodwill.

Or, I could start working through my pile of books.

Decisions, decisions.

Death and grief and sorrow and murder. And weddings. And other stuff.

The other day, an internet friend asked for advice in dealing with all the terrible news that seems to be on 24/7.  Everything is doom and gloom "we're all gonna die!" depressing.

It sucks, is what it does.  It's getting to the point where reading the newspaper means heading straight to the comics.  And "Dear Abby" although some of the letters she gets are pretty depressing.

I KNOW what's going on in the world.  But that doesn't mean I want to be saturated with it.  Along with the radiation cloud that is supposedly heading toward California.  Our local news stations are all up on that, telling people to get thee to a pharmacy and stock up on potassium iodine so now of course you can't find potassium iodine, not that I'm looking.

So seeing as I'm admittedly Shallow and Superficial, I'm going to turn my attention to more lighthearted stuff.

There's a Royal Wedding coming up and I for one want to know all the details.  What will Catherine, formerly known as "Kate," wear?  Yes, yes, I KNOW she'll wear a wedding dress but what will it look like?  Who is making it?  Will she wear a tiara?  I love me a tiara.  I have a couple of my own and they're always fun to wear, even if you're not marrying a future King.

I remember getting my first glimpse of Princess Diana's wedding dress and at the time I thought it was the most beautiful dress EVER.  Huge and pouffy and billowing and that immense train and oh, this teenage girl practically swooned at the sight of it. It was a total Fairy Princess dress.  And the bouquet!  Huge!  I wanted one just like it when I got married, except with pink flowers.  However, the cost of such a massive bouquet caused me to rethink that idea.


TheManTheMyth and Thing 1 left this morning for Idaho to race in the Kenda National Hare & Hound Series.  They're riding up with some other people and based on the call I got about an hour ago, it's going to be a loooooooooooong drive.   Barely 2 hours into the drive, they've already had to replace 2 tires on the trailer.  I told TMTM to look at this as an Adventure, as something he will look back on and laugh and he was all, "Yeah.  Ha. Ha."


It's all my fault, though.  TMTM had wanted to have a trailer hitch put on my car and they would borrow a little 2-rail bike trailer and drive up because it would save a couple hundred bucks in gas than if they had driven up the Big Truck but I had adamantly put the kibosh on that because my car is a lease that gets turned in in 2-1/2 months and this trip would a) put me over my miles and 2) put unnecessary wear and tear on a car that has to be in good condition when it gets turned in and Let's pay $$$$ to save $$!  Yeah, um, NO.


So I've been looking and test driving various cars for when the time comes to get a new car and every car I've shown TMTM, he's immediately looked into the trailer hitch situation so that it can become the transportation of choice to the desert and I got all pissed off at the thought of my new car being ruined by a having a trailer hitch installed and I worked myself up into quite a state before I reminded myself that I don't even have the car yet.  But I'm still mad at even the thought.


I blame the news.


Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go and put on one of my tiaras and hope it makes everything a little more happy.

Don't let the name fool you

Despite having red hair and an Irish name and, I'm not.  Irish, that is.  So don't let the name fool you into thinking that a redhead named Kelly is Irish and is all about the wearin' of the green and putting on her Riverdance shoes and dancing a jig with the Lord of the Dance.  Because it ain't happening.

When I was younger, I HATED my name.  I don't know how many times I was called, "Kelly Belly" and "Smelly Kelly" but it was A LOT and it got old after the first 2 times someone thought they were being all witty with the nickname.


For a period of time in my childhood, I was known as "Girl Kelly."  There was a little boy named Kelly who lived down the street so our friends would call him, "Boy Kelly" and I was "Girl Kelly" so that nobody would get confused.  I don't mean that people referred to us as "Girl Kelly" and "Boy Kelly."  We were called by those names.  My little friends would knock on the door and ask if Girl Kelly could come out and play.


When Boy Kelly moved away, I was finally able to be called just plain old Kelly.  Along with the Not So Funny nicknames.


When I was in my Wild Misspent 20's, the name Kelly did come in handy on St. Patrick's Day and I would use it to my advantage to score free drinks at the local watering holes.  And the next day I'd be as green as the hills of the Emerald Isle.


Although they were A LOT of fun, I don't miss those days.


So even though it's St. Patrick's Day and I've got the red hair (courtesy of Garnier Nutrisse) and the Irish name (courtesy of my mom who thankfully didn't name me something from our ethnic background otherwise I could be Helga or Olga or Franziska or Svetlana or Iona) I'm not going to start chugging the green beer and eating corned beef and cabbage because, well, yuck.  

But I am wearing something green in a nod to the St. Pats people because I really don't want to be black and blue from the pinching.


Kiss me, I'm (not) Irish.