Humor With Kanela

Ididn'tarod

noreply@blogger.com (Sandra Seeley) — Tue, 27 Mar 2012 04:00:00 +0000

Mush, you Huskies!

I believe a winner has been declared for the 2012 Iditarod. Dallas Seavey (25), no relation to Sandra Seeley (39), mushed into Nome on 3-13-12.

Every year, I think about training for the next Iditarod, just because I like to say that word - it's funny! However, these are the top ten reasons why Ididn'tarod this year:

10. I don't live in Alaska. As Kanela, I actually live on-line inside your head. Also, it's just plain crazy to want to play outside approximately 2 degrees south of the Arctic Circle in bad, bad weather. A wind chill of -100 degrees F can also give you a bad hair day.

9. I refuse to wear a numbered bib that has to be visible at all times. I keep my bib hidden. It only comes out when I'm consuming soup or spaghetti sauce. Bibs are for babies, old people, and sissies like Dallas (Bib #34).

8. I'm addicted to fat free, sugar free, venti French Vanilla Cappuccinos. The Race follows the northern route for 1,112 miles in even numbered years and the southern route for 1,131 miles in odd years. You would think with over 2 thousand miles of trails, there would be at least one Starbucks. I find that odd!

7. It takes 9 to 15 days to finish The Race. I only have two personal days per year at work.

6. Moose, caribou and buffalo frighten me. They take me out of my comfort zone, because they can take me out!

5. I have ISF for the $3,000 US entry fee. I'm also leary of the $50 to $100 fine for tardiness at the rookie meeting or pre-race musher meeting. What if I'm delayed by a moose in need of anger management?

4. I need 15 additional dogs. Note to self: Go shopping!

3. It's quite time consuming to knit booties for 16 dogs. Let's see: 4 booties x 16 dogs = 64 booties. At present, I am certain my dog, Wolfgang, prefers blue booties. How do I determine if my yet to be purchased Huskies will want pink or blue paw protectors?

2. I was deeply involved with training for St. Patrick's Day. McDonald's Shamrock Shakes add weight to my Main Frame, not to mention adding weight to the sled.

1. And the number 1 reason Ididn'tarod was because Wolfgang refused to pee in a cup for the mandatory drug testing. He told me it's downright humiliating, and he has never inhaled an illegal substance in his life!

So looking ahead to March 2013, Wolfgang is getting advice from sissy Dallas' lead dogs, Guinness and Diesel. He's taking swing lessons (another term for lead or point dog). The only problem is, he can't decide on Lindy Hop, East Coast Swing, or West Coast Swing. But Wolfgang vows to teach Kanela (in dire need of remedial swing lessons) once he learns the moves. So until we meet again, Happy Southern Trails to you.

Please email entry fee contributions, booties of any size or color, and most importantly, comments of any size or color to musher@sandraseeley.com.

Gerald, the Ford

noreply@blogger.com (Sandra Seeley) — Tue, 20 Mar 2012 04:49:00 +0000

This is not my Funny Ford!

Did you ever think that your car would think? Four wheels and a metal chassis are making you and me obsolete. Cars now parallel park for us and are being developed to drive Miss Daisy and everyone else. They will not allow us to run red lights or cruise through stop signs. They are motion detectors in motion. On long trips, they even engage us in conversation or play games with us to pass the time.

I just purchased the budget model of the Funny Ford. It doesn't do any of the above magic tricks, but it does keep me laughing on my daily commute. For example, when "Jerry" is hungry, he babbles non-stop about what he could "go for". Yesterday, he wanted Sunoco. Last week, he felt like having Get Go. On diet days, he asks for regular unleaded gasoline. What he doesn't realize is that medical research has proven this gas to be addictive. Jerry is just going to crave more gas in a few days.

All that horse power under the hood and brain power in the driver's seat, has made Jerry a bit of a flirt. He followed a cute Mustang all the way to her garage repeatedly. She eventually had to get a restraining order against him.

You can just imagine how Jerry reacts when he spots AAA buildings, car washes, tire stores, and 10 minute oil changes. Let's just say he loves to shop.

Jerry is also a huge NASCAR fan. He once crashed a race literally and figuratively. He invited himself into the starting line-up and then proceeded to trip over his own wheels. Jerry, the Ford, has earned his reputation as Mr. Clumsy.

In conclusion, what do you think about thinking cars? Email your thoughts or your car's thoughts to Kanela@sandraseeley.com

PS
Today's rate is $3.85 per comment. You don't have to understand why you are paying so much for humor, you just need to recognize the demand for Kanela's humor fluctuates daily. Checks, money orders, credit cards, Lottery tickets, cash, and demands can all be emailed to my Swiss Bank Account. See my article: "From Piggy Bank to Swiss Bank". Viewing this article is not a requirement, I'm just thinking if demand increases, my rate per comment will also increase. Fill-up on Kanela today!

Winning by Losing

noreply@blogger.com (Sandra Seeley) — Mon, 12 Mar 2012 23:04:00 +0000

What do Jennifer Hudson, Charles Barkley, and Kanela have in common? If you guessed that we all play basketball for a living, you would be incorrect. If you guessed that we all count points, you would earn 26 to 29 Weight Watcher points depending on your flexibility.

I have unofficially appointed myself as the official WW spokesperson for women over 50. I consider this a non-scale related victory, so I'm also awarding myself a Bravo Star Sticker (BSS). FYI, I once received a BSS for not sulking when I didn't earn a BSS. Trust me, you could say anything and still get a BSS. For example:

Kanela: I had impure thoughts about an Almond Joy candy bar.

WW Leader: Bravo to you Kanela. Stick this star on your coconut brain and say 3 Hail Marys.

Kanela: The steering wheel in my car doesn't rub my stomach when driving anymore.

WW Leader: Bravo to you Kanela. Stick this star on your bucket and move it forward so your foot reaches the gas pedal.

However, I didn't earn a BSS that one week because I didn't open my mouth to say anything. I was actually afraid that points would fly in if I spoke!

So here's my Game Plan. For one month, I'm going to do everything WW has taught me. I'm going to track all of my healthy choices in foods, attend meetings, drink plenty of water, spritz Omega 3's on edible plants and then edible them, and savor one Centrum Silver for Women a day. I think it was Ben Franklin who said, "A vitamin a day keeps scurvy away." Believe me, I know from experience that scurvy is not attractive on women over 50. It itches! It also attracts sailors, who are neither officers nor gentlemen!

After one month, I'm going to report back to you with a scale-related victory. When I acquire enough scale-related victories, I'll reveal the face and body of Kanela to you.

Please email words of encouragement, BSS's, and offers of syndication to WW Kanela@sandraseeley.com

Each comment will earn you 1 BSS. Start your own collection today.

Goofy-ness

noreply@blogger.com (Sandra Seeley) — Tue, 03 Aug 2010 21:56:00 +0000

For my Prince Charming!

Traveling in Kanela's kingdom, one often encounters the good-natured, but not so bright anthropomorphic species known as humans. That statement is not redundant, it's funny!

For example, Bachelorette Ali was devastated by Frank's betrayal at the 11th hour. Didn't Ali do the exact sudden departure thing to bachelor Jake? And didn't Vienna morph into a sub-human species? Or was Jake too stupid to see early signs of not so brightness? Gawrsh! Reality TV shows are goofy. Kanela only watches them so she can write funny stuff.

Sign at our local YMCA: Dulcimer lessons coming soon. I don't mean to knock our Y or the Appalachian people, but when was the last time you said to yourself, "Golly, I wish I knew how to play the dulcimer"? But then again, our little valley doesn't even have a movie theater, so "stay tuned" for a later report on Dulcimer Lesson #1.

Irresponsible owners of decorative flags hold a special place in Kanela's Divine Comedy: an epic poem without much depth! Allegorically speaking, these self-indulgent flagsters should not be forcing St. Patrick's Day on the unsuspecting public on the day after Valentine's Day. February is a red month; green should not appear until March. And all the other holiday flags should, by royal decree, only appear in their holiday month. These Type A homeowners are committing the sin of premature celebration. As a form of poetic justice, I often leave a copy of Dante's Divine Comedy on their doorstep with an inscription that reveals the ending. They often tell me to go to Inferno! In my best Goofy imitation, I reply, "Ah-hyuck!"

In conclusion, some people see dead people and some people see shapes in the clouds. But my Prince Charming created a magical commute for me between our castle and work. He broke the spell of boredom with a kiss and a Goofy living sculpture using only his imagination. No matter the season, Goofy makes me smile every morning and afternoon. Life is good. And we lived happily ever after. The end.

Send a Goofy shout out, " Yaaaaaaa-hoo-hoo-hoo-hooey!" to Kanela, aka Snow White @ sandraseeley.com. Leave a goofy comment. Just so you know, Prince C. and I are practicing some hilarious spells for non-commenters.

PS
Goofy really is anthropomorphic.

Ghosts of Birthdays Past, Present, and Future

noreply@blogger.com (Sandra Seeley) — Mon, 21 Sep 2009 07:00:00 +0000

Happy Birthday to Me!

Friday the 13th, back in the day, Kanela came out laughing hysterically at some "inside"joke. Doctors were mildly amused.(only recently have they been in touch with their funny bones). Mom giggled groggily and Dad raised me up, Rafiki like, in his extended arms and presented me to the fluorescent lights. So from the day I arrived on this planet and stepped into the light bulbs, I was filled with funny fluorescence and just couldn't wait to be Kanela. Go Daddy! (Not to be confused with Go Daddy.com)

September 13th of 2009 was Bobblehead Kanela Day at PNC Park. The Pittsburgh Pirates were originally scheduled to play the Houston Astros at Minute Maid Park, but the game was moved to Pittsburgh in my honor. I motivationally spoke like a pirate to the crowd of one during the 7th inning stretch and preached my no worries, problem-free philosophy to the team and fan. They sang "Hakuna Matata" to me and in lieu of innumerable birthday cake candles, Paul Maholm blew out my bobblehead with a 100 mph fastball pitch to match the Pirates soon to be 100 games lost.

September 13, 2039 again falls on a Friday. I anticipate a Virgo-esque birthday celebration. This will entail howling at the moon and doing it compulsively perfectly. I am the quintessential Virgo: feminine, introverted, earthy, perfectionist. I get along well with myself! And ironically,the Sanskrit name of Virgo in Hindu astrology is Kanya (Kanela)!

So as the Circle of Life continues, I realize there is light at the end of the tunnel. If it doesn't happen to be shining in mine, I'll just enter another's tunnel!

If you didn't feel the love in this article enough to leave a comment, no worries. I'm going to make a note to self. Be sure to read my comments to Kanela @ sandraseeley.com.

PS
Happy 92nd birthday to Supermom!

By-the-way, I would like to publicly thank Charlie Brown for bringing the whole Peanuts Gang to my ballgame birthday celebration. Buy me and yourself some Peanuts! You're a good bobblehead, Charlie Brown!

From Piggy Bank to Swiss Bank

noreply@blogger.com (Sandra Seeley) — Mon, 14 Sep 2009 07:00:00 +0000

Pig in a Panic!

You may be wondering what it will take to turn the banking industry around. I don't claim to have all the answers, but my Piggy Bank has turned his back on me.

This drastic attitude was a long time coming. I believe it started when deposits were no longer filling his belly. Mellon and then Citizens swayed me to feed their voracious financial appetites instead. Month after month automatic deposits went into my checking account.

And just last month, I discovered the ease of online banking. With a click of the mouse, I was able to transfer funds from one of my accounts to another. If you would like me to prove this to you, just email me your checking account number and I'll do the math!

Here's my next dilemma: do I return to my lifelong friend, Mr. Pig or continue to safeguard my substantial assets from public scrutiny and heavy-handed taxation by looking toward the very attractive option of the Swiss Bank Consortium? Swiss bank accounts can be opened for as little as $350 to $550, plus a small initial deposit. Opening deposits of $200,000 are often the minimum.

What to do? Offshore or offline?

Pig Bank vs Swiss Bank
I'm "Kanela" to Mr. Pig. I'm only a number to Switzerland.
Less "banky" vs More "banky"
Cash on hand vs Can't hold the cash
Muddy, but fun vs Clean

The deal breaker came down to a motto. I had decided on Bank COOP - Switzerland. but then I realized their motto was: COOP. The clean Swiss bank. Cleanliness is not high on my list of banking requirements, so I am turning my personal economy around and embracing my Piggyness.

Please deposit your cash and comments @ sandraseeley.com. Kanela is very "interest"-ed.

P.S.
To my brother, Patrick: The dime I stole from you when I was 6 and you were 9 is still in Mr. Pig!

Menehunes

noreply@blogger.com (Sandra Seeley) — Mon, 07 Sep 2009 07:00:00 +0000

Are you a believer?

Menehunes are the Hawaiian equivalent of leprechauns. Both are diminutive creatures that exist for those who believe in them.

The most famous and tallest menehune was Time Magazines' 2001 Person of the Year. See if you can guess his name from the following description: he is a playful elf, pot-bellied, hairy (but not on his head), muscular, and sports bushy eyebrows over large eyes. He stands Democratically, Independently, or Republicanly (depending on the decade) about two feet tall. Due to his short stature, it was not necessary for him to kneel when QE II bestowed honorary knighthood on him in 2002. He hosted SNL in 1997 and made two cameo appearances. He enjoys cliff diving.
A. Mickey Rooney
B. Daniel Rooney
C. Sir Rudy Giuliani-Rooney
Hint: The answer is always C.

Menehunes allow only a privileged few to see them. A menehune must give you a special juice which will allow you to see him or her. I have seen menehunes on numerous occasions. What juice did they give me?
A. Orange Juice
B. Redbull Energy Juice
C. Blue Hawaii "Juice"
Hint: See above hint.

Wolfgang can sense the presence of menehunes at the door, although he is not juiced up enough to see them. Who is Wolfgang?
A. September 5, 2009 host of SNL
B. Your worst nightmare
C. Assistant to a star
Hint: No more hints!

And finally, the beast of the Pittsburgh Steelers, and my personal favorite player, carries a six inch live menehune as a good luck charm. This very strong Samoan safety ( or very Samoan strong, strong safety) has many off-field interests such as growing flowers, making furniture, playing the piano, and flying on seagulls with a mini-menehune in order to patrol for sharks. Where does Troy Polamalu keep "mini-hune" on game day?
A. In the Game Day Magazine
B. In Coach Tomlin's cap
C. In one of the SIX large round diamonds of his Super Bowl XLIII ring

I "pau" now. Aloha Oe.

Email any comments, tropical gifts, menehune sightings, menehune pranks, or menehune good deeds to Queen Liliuokalani-Kanela at sandraseeley.com or visit me at Iolani Palace, Hawaii.

Intruder Alert!

noreply@blogger.com (Sandra Seeley) — Mon, 31 Aug 2009 07:00:00 +0000

Sometimes bad things happen to funny people!

In 2005, we had a close encounter with a middle of the night intruder in our home. While I slept blissfully unaware of any shenanigans going on (shenanigans is a funny word, intruder is not), our mystery visitor was stealthily running through the house canvassing each room for take-out!

Only Mom and I were home. Mom noticed a shadowy figure running past her in the living room, up the stairs to my bedroom. Being just shy of her 88th birthday at the time, blind in 1 eye, hearing challenged in both ears, and recovering from a broken hip, her first thought was, "I can take him!"

Luckily for him, he high-tailed it back out the kitchen window when he saw Supergrandma shuffling towards him with the aid of her walker. Super G was later quoted as saying, "I would have grabbed a kitchen knife and stabbed him in his "high-tail" if only I could have gotten to him sooner." No one messes with Super G!

Two years later, Wolfgang, my fearless assistant and protector was quoted as saying, "You should have adopted me sooner."

Luckily for us, Mr. Mephostopheles only committed cat burglary and not mayhem on our persons. Crikey!

The local gendarmes dusted our kitchen table for fingerprints, but alas, found none. Not even ours. How strange or incompetent is that?

The only thing stolen was my purse. But my purse contained all my worldly belongings, so that was a huge "only".

Post-traumatic stress results:

I'm now afraid of thingies in the night.
I sleep with my purse and Wolfgang.
We now leave post-its for an intruder such as, "Go away, I've already been burgled." or "Please return my missing unposted humor column article (the Pulitzer Prize winning one) that was in my purse!"

I'm offering a reward (as yet to be determined) for a tip leading to the arrest of this fugitive from justice. I'm also offering a reward for the best comment emailed to Kanela at sandraseeley.com. Hurry! This offer expires at midnight on the 12th of never. And you ask how much I love you!

Moral of this story: Don't keep your purse in the kitchen.

G-20 at My House

noreply@blogger.com (Sandra Seeley) — Mon, 24 Aug 2009 07:00:00 +0000

"Welcome to my world. Won't you come on in?"

Exactly one month from today, I am hosting the G-20 Pittsburgh Summit at my house. This is a logistics nightmare to the nth power. The Redd-Up Campaign to de-clutter is overwhelming. The Secret Service and Molly Maid house cleaning experts are tag teaming for bugs.

Meals will be informal even though 10 presidents, 7 prime ministers, 1 chancellor, 1 king, random European Union people, and a partridge in a pear tree will be dining at my tables. I've decided to seat the prime ministers in the kitchen, chancellor, king, random EU people and partridge in the dining room, and presidents in the living room. This decision was based solely on the fact that President Obama insisted on watching the Steeler game on the living room big screen. Originally the Steelers were scheduled to play at Chicago on Sunday, September 20th, but by presidential veto the game was pushed back to September 24th to accommodate the G-20 Steeler Nation. In fact, even as I write, Soldier's Field is being moved from Chicago to Kanela's back yard for pre-game festivities. Russian President Dmitry Medvedev toasted and cheered, "Za druzhbu myezhdu narodami! Go, Steelers!" (To friendship between nations! Go Steelers!)

My faithful assistant, Wolfgang Amadeus, is in charge of the menu. I do hope no one is allergic to Blue Buffalo Dog Food prepared in a crock pot. Australian Prime Minister, Kevin Rudd, reacted to this news by mumbling down under his breath, "Crikey!" French President, Nicolas Sarkozy, just swallowed his words.

The kitchen contingent of guests consisting of Australia, Canada, India, Italy, Japan, Turkey and The United Kingdom will be seated at a round table served by Sir Wolfington. The Italian Prime Minister, Silvio Berlusconi, upon hearing this news shouted, "Bravo!" The Japanese PM, Taro Also, nodded politely.

Entertainment was going to be watching Denzel Washington on location in the Strip District of Pittsburgh filming "Unstoppable." However, due to irreconcilable financial differences, Denzel and Fox Entertainment are divorcing. G-20 added this global financial and economic crisis to their "Next Steps" agenda. Wolfgang offered to chase his tail as a backup amusement plan. Indian PM Manmohan Singh called Wolfgang a slum dog which hurt his feelings. In retaliation, Wolfgang is seating the Indian PM in the rotating "Troika" chair that is not going to stop rotating.

All this planning and preparation were definitely worth the effort. I recently was surprised to learn that the Nobel Peace Prize Academy selected me for the 2009 Diversity In The Home Category. I apparently have done the best work for fraternity between nations and for promoting peace congresses. South African President, Jacob Zuma, pounded his chest twice, gave the peace sign, and said, "Peace Out." I personally would like to thank Jacob and the Oslo Academy.

If you, dear readers, have any dining or decorating tips, comments or congratulations for Kanela please email them ASAP (I'm needy!) to sandraseeley.com.

Meet My Assistant, Wolfgang Amadeus

noreply@blogger.com (Sandra Seeley) — Mon, 17 Aug 2009 07:00:00 +0000

The Adventures of a Shaolin Monk Dog, Kwai Chang Canine

You may be wondering how I manage to write so profoundly week after week. The answer literally lies on the floor with my four-legged assistant. My faithful companion is my listening public, enforcer of play breaks, and nap mate. I also use him as a furry foot futon. I, in return, am his human popsicle. Actually, he'll lick anything in front of his face. This symbiotic relationship is a huge benefit to both of us. Wolfgang gets his daily salt intake requirement as recommended by the FDA, while I get daily doses of love and laughter, which I relay to all of you. Do you feel loved and laughed?

Wolfers is a black lab mix. He's mostly lab, but only DNA testing can identify the mix. He may be part rhinoceros!

My favorite daughter and I rescued him from"certain death" from the Washington County Humane Society which I want to emphasize is a no-kill shelter. The rescue part involved holding him in my arms so a mean little boy couldn't adopt him.

Sir Wolfington has now been with us a little over two years. He has trained us well with the lessons he learned in puppy school and just recently, middle school. We send him off every Saturday with his Dramamine, backpack, lunch box, notebook, pencils, and doggie treats. We can now fetch a ball when he doesn't feel like returning it, feed him treats when he shakes hands a zillion times a day without being asked, and open the door to check for phantom visitors when he barks their appearance.

Wolf is fearless except when the Meals-on-Wheels people arrive daily for Mom or Mom's priest stops in for a visit. He then goes into manic barking mode. Should I be worried about the integrity of either of these seemingly harmless volunteers? He's also afraid of "thingies"that lie in wait for him outside at night. Thingies like lightning bugs and shadows.

However, during the day, "Grasshopper" is a Kung Fu master. I once watched in amazement and disgust as he snatched a fly in mid-flight and swallowed in delight. And yet, when we toss a tennis ball for him, he stands there and lets it hit him on the head. Hence, ("hence" is a funny word) Wolfgang Amadeus became my humor column assistant. He wanders the American New East armed only with his skill in Kung Fu and humor.

In conclusion, I'll share one little secret with you. Since Wolfgang hasn't learned to read yet - he'll never know. We once ran out of treats for Sir Glutton. So we filled his treat jar with regular Blue Buffalo Dog Food. He will do anything for those "treats", when all he has to do is visit his food bowl!

The funny thing about Wolfgang is that he is funny!

If you have any word treats for Wolfgang, please email these kudos to Wolfgang Amadeus at sandraseeley.com. Kanela will also do anything for word treats!

A Horse Named Guinness

noreply@blogger.com (Sandra Seeley) — Sun, 09 Aug 2009 14:55:00 +0000

Happy Trails

This one's for you, Jim West!

Once upon a "stout"-hearted, soulful-eyed quarterhorse at Rolling Hills Ranch, happy trails beckoned to a group of urban urchins of the 3rd and 4th grade variety and me. While I was enjoying the sound of creaking leather, the feel of raw horse power beneath me and fantasizing about the intrepid Wagon Train scout, Flint McCullough, and Irish warriors like George Clooney and Richard Gere, my summer school students were fascinated with the equine farts and dumps. It was like Pittsburgh Public meets an animal!

But getting back to my fantasies, once I did the arthritic two-step(used a 2 step stool to mount Guinness), my legs were young again. For one solid hour, I was able to climb over hills and dales with nary a stumble or pain in the knees. Guinness, bless her heart, was confused by the sudden appearance of dales, but she managed to navigate better on four feet than I could ever do on two. One little dale even followed me home!

I'm proud to say that I am committed to responsible riding and can legally enjoy Guinness even though my youthful appearance might fool you. I urge all of you novice equestrians to also ride responsibly. My 3 main suggestions are:
1. Let the horse with the most seniority drink at the water trough first.
2. Don't say "Yee Haw" or "Giddy Up" when a horse is attending to personal business.
3. Don't scream like a ninny if you become frightened by anything your horse or your body does. It will not calm him. Trust me.

In conclusion, I can honestly say that "Guinness was Good for Me" and the pint waiting at home wasn't bad either.

"Happy trails to you until we meet again."

If you have any additional responsible riding tips or comments, please Email Kanela Clooney. She can be reached at sandraseeley.com. Irresponsible riding tips can be Emailed to my evil twin, Kanela Clooney. We're identical!

Draughts, widgets and cheers!

Stupid Moments

noreply@blogger.com (Sandra Seeley) — Fri, 20 Jun 2008 14:01:00 +0000

YES, I've made a lot of mistakes in my life, but the biggest one of all might be revealing them to you. "Why tell Readerland?" you may ask. I may answer, "Because Readerland is there!" Here are a few of my more stellar stupid moments.

While vacationing in Lake Worth, Florida one summer day, I forgot to close my wide open car trunk at the beach. Seven hours later, I returned to the car only to find nothing was missing. My purse with hundreds of dollars in cash, credit cards of many hues and banks, and American Express Travelers Checks of many denominations did not leave the trunk without me. My 35mm Nikon camera also did not go missing. In my defense, I'm stupid!

I once asked a New York taxi cab driver how to pronounce his name. It was pronounced "John"! In my defense, I couldn't read his writing on his hand written business card and thought it was "Yasim".

I also gave Yasim the $2 tip money intended for the skycap at LaGuardia Airport and gave the skycap the $40 tip money intended for Yasim. Luckily for Yasim, I still had his business card and was able to call him back on his cell phone immediately. But not before snatching $40 back from an amazed skycap. I don't think Yasim wants to see me again. In my defense, it was a stressful day.

Once and only once did I delete all the faxes, not pertaining to me, from my customer sales and service cubicle computer at Verizon Wireless. I ignored all the "What happened to my fax?" shrieks bellowing from surrounding cubicles. In my defense, I did not know this would happen and just wanted to clear up the clutter. Also, I hate getting "Your mailbox is over its size limit" messages. If my former supervisor from VZW reads this, my co-worker, Yasim actually did this - not me.

Yes you can Email your Stupid Moment or Stupid Comment to Yasim E. Smith today.

Survey Slacker

noreply@blogger.com (Sandra Seeley) — Wed, 18 Jun 2008 00:30:00 +0000

Hyundai makes a classy Tiburon, but their marketing people are running on empty.

First of all, let me tell you I loathe taking surveys. Even though the South Korean delegation doesn't know this, they sent me a dollar ( well, it was really a "won" ) along with a customer satisfaction survey. I guess they were hoping to entice this customer to reveal her opinions about her latest automotive purchase.

I pocketed the dollar and tossed the survey, feeling only slightly guilty.

Two weeks later, another dollar (Euro) arrived with another survey. Now I was two won/Euros richer and formed some strong opinions about not answering the questions.

Two weeks later, I received my third "Don't Take This Survey" dollar (peso). This situation so reminds me of my "Don't Plant Corn" money! But, I have yet to receive a penny for not doing that! See my article, Does Anyone Else...?

Now I'm taking a survey. If anyone out there in Readerland can answer the next three questions, I will consolidate all of my unanswered surveys, put them in forbearance due to intellectual hardship, and answer them all exactly one year from today:

1. Who manufactures Hyundai?
A. South Korea, Kia, Mazda, GM, Spain, Ethnic Albania
B. All of the above, some of the above, none of the above, part of each one of the above
C. Menehunes in Hawaii

2. Give me one good reason why I should complete Hyundai's questionnaire if they keep paying me not to complete it.

3. How do I get out of completing online work-related surveys, when the IT Wizards know how to find me?

I've owned this Tiburon for 6 months, but did not realize until recently that in espanol "Tiburon" means shark! I'm driving a shark! Hola! Here's my opinion:
I don't like sharks! They are scary! Adios.

Email comments, questionnaire answers, or currency in any form to this survey slacker @ sandraseeley.com.

Six final thoughts:

Don't throw away junk mail, it may contain Tibby (what we Tiburon drivers affectionately call our vehicles) dollars.

XM Satellite Radio offers keep getting better if you don't subscribe immediately.

1 won = 0.000978 US dollars

1 Euro = 1.5401 US dollars

1 peso = 0.098049 US dollars

When purchasing items in a foreign country, just say, "Here's all my money. Take what you need!" It's easier than doing the math.

Rx for Employment

noreply@blogger.com (Sandra Seeley) — Mon, 23 Apr 2007 02:00:00 +0000

Please Hire Me!

Summer employment for me is like "What I Want to Be When I Grow Up" every year. Last summer I wanted to be a waitress. More on that in a future article tentatively called "Back of the House". I won't reveal whose house it was, but their Smiley cookies, which originally were round and smiley, are now shape shifters. They can assume the form of fishy Smiley, shamrock Smiley, or flower power hippie Smiley. I personally predict there soon will be a celebrity Smiley, perhaps Ivanka Trumpy!

This summer, I'm going to be working as a receptionist for my PCP. The best part about this job is my doctor will pay me to come to the office! The worst part about this job is my doctor has SEEN me! This naked truth prohibits lying about my weight. Old lying habits are hard to break. I've even lied to my anesthesiologist about pounds per Kanela. I figured he would factor fibs into my weight equation. I also heard that operating rooms actually make you 10 pounds heavier! ("Fibs" is a funny word. "Fibs" is a not so funny word if it kills you!)

"Vital signs" takes on a whole new meaning. In addition to blood pressure, temperature, and heart rate, I can now add blushing to my numbers. (On a scale of 1 to 10 with 10 being the reddest.)

Cultural diversity in the workplace will flourish in summer 2007. Dr. Employer is ethnic Indian and I am ethnic Carpatho-Rusyn. ( Formerly a small nomadic group of people who lived in the foothills of the Carpathian mountains.) Curry meets cabbage roll! No sick jokes about pigs-in-a-blanket or rolls of anything!

I envision lots of advantages to this situation, but there are two worrisome areas. I have always thought that ethnic Indian Americans had soothing, melodic voices. As opposed to ethnic American Indians (or ethnic American Native Americans) that speak in harsh guttural tones. No offense but when, back in the day, Apaches attacked Carpatho-Rusyns, I believe they war cried, "I will shoot an arrow into you - you blanketed peirogi pig!) Not very soothing!

My point is that soothing, melodic voices have a tendency to lull me to sleep. This is worrisome because I fear that napping on the job will be frowned upon.

My second fear is that I don't always understand what Dr. Employer is saying in his soothing accent. Since I don't want to appear to be a Carpatho-Rusyn idiot, I hesitate to ask him "What?" for the tenth time. As an example, I recently asked him if walking vigorously on a treadmill while fighting a sinus infection and cough, would be harmful. He either said, "Of course it will be harmful you Carpatho-Rusyn idiot" or "Go for it!"

Since I talk more about walking on my treadmill than actually walking on my treadmill, I have suffered no ill effects from not walking on my treadmill.

Summer employment starts in exactly T minus 2 months and counting. I will let you know how it all works out. In the meantime, I'm taking a crash course in the Hindi language and another course on Hypersomnolence which translated by us Westerners means excessive sleepiness caused by soothing, melodic Eastern languages.

Please take note that I'm already planning on summer work for 2008. I decided that next year I want to be an Indian chief or ethnic American Native American chief.

E-mail your comments and prescriptions to this writer, waitress, receptionist, and ethnic American Native American future chief. If you don't comment this time, it will make me sorrowfully sick, and I will be a "10" on the blush-o-meter!

Strangest, But Almost True!

noreply@blogger.com (Sandra Seeley) — Wed, 28 Mar 2007 03:12:00 +0000

I recently found out I'm not allergic to toxic chemicals. This means I can now drink pesticides without breaking out in a rash.

Comment overheard while shopping near the bathing suit department: "Boas are the perfect accessory to wear when swimming!"

My favorite radio station often has a contest where the 7th caller wins a great prize. I was the 8th caller and received 4 tickets to the Home & Garden Show at the Pittsburgh Convention Center. I also received 4 hard hats!

After many years of searching, I finally found the perfect green jersey to wear to work on St. Patrick's Day this year. Too bad the 17th was on a Saturday!

If you set your clock for 3AM, you will not wake up at 3PM.

Dealing with a sinus infection is not very humorous. Actually, it's very confusing. If my antibiotic causes diarrhea, and my codeine laced "happy" syrup causes constipation, will I be regular? Is it ok to take Immodium? Why do the nurses laugh at me when I ask these questions? It's probably just because I'm such a funny, but sick, humor columnist.

Please email your Get Wells/Condolences to this author, negotiator, crusader, and Royal Highness.

Stranger, But Almost True!

noreply@blogger.com (Sandra Seeley) — Wed, 21 Mar 2007 06:05:00 +0000

"Here's The Thing Two!"

I'm often called a Drama Queen by my favorite son of the East, my favorite son of the West (sometimes they're both a wee bit "Wicked"), and my favorite daughter who is often in a different time zone from East and West! What they fail to realize is that I'm telling the truth - almost. So I'll wear my crown proudly and be the ruler of all that I see. (Happy Birthday Dr. Seuss).

The Pittsburgh Penguins were threatening to leave Pittsburgh. I often do the same thing. Where is Governor Rendell when I need him? Where is Mayor Luke Skywalker? When I vote in the primaries, I always tell them I'm not on the dark side of the Force Party. They think I'm a cute, funny Jedi Warrior Woman. Let's meet at the bargaining table and negotiate my revenue from tickets, parking, concessions, and slots. I can be in Philadelphia/New Jersey by 4:00 pm with my people. Since I'm right up the street from the soon to be former Mellon Arena site, I've been given pre-approval to use the Weil ALA parking lot for overflow parking, bake sales, and "Take Your Father to Penguin Games" tailgating parties. All proceeds benefit me.

Things always seem to happen in nines to me. See Drama Queen comment above. You already know about my computer from "Strange, But Almost True", however, I left out the prior 6 disasters. My furnace is also breaking. The Heating & Cooling people assured me it's not going to explode, it's just going to die soon. If only I can put up with the loud piercing wail it makes every time it's on, until revenue starts pouring in from my Penguin deal.

Also, our second car died. Well, actually it was killed by a homicidal oil changer. We took it in for a normal oil change and came out with an abnormal frozen engine. Your typical hospital nightmare. This psycho not only sabotaged our car but also the truck before us. Needless to say, he's no longer employed with this company. Be warned though - you may want to check references before your next oil change. I'm not naming the particular business, because the owner has accepted full responsibility. However, their insurance company has a big attitude. If departed car is not given an engine transplant soon, I may have to reveal some details for the good of my public.

Be sure to visit me also at sandraseeley.blogspot.com and check out The Writings Between Two Columns and the Future Champions.

Strange, But Almost True!

noreply@blogger.com (Sandra Seeley) — Mon, 19 Mar 2007 04:12:00 +0000

"Here's The Thing!"

On March 7, 2007, along with Pittsburgh Public School District, Get Go had a 2 hour delay due to snow conditions. Just kidding, Get Go! You dispensed my fat free French Vanilla Cappucchino right on schedule. A caffeine high five to you.

Have you tried paying a bill by phone lately? It seems certain companies like Dick's Sporting Goods charges you a fee to take YOUR money. Not very sporting of you, Dick!

My computer died. I called Staples to see if their tech could revive it. The person on the phone told me they couldn't diagnose it if I couldn't power it on. But that's the problem! Ahhhhhhh!!! In defense of Staples, phone person was not the techie - just the dummy. Perhaps I'll get the "Dream Team" on Grey's Anatomy to work on it. After all, they revived Meredith and my computer wasn't even under water.

OK, here's a PSSA math question to see if you're smarter than the average 4th grader. At 5AM, on March 7th, I shoveled my driveway of all visible white stuff. It took me 1 hour and 1 extra shower. With hands clutching the steering wheel in a death grip and hyperventilating from fear, I drove 30 plus miles to work at 5 mph. If T = D/R, how long did it take me to realize that Pittsburgh Public School District closed their doors in my freezing face? If all teachers at Weil ALA are supposed to be at work by 7:35 AM even on a 2 hour delay, couldn't the "Roads" Scholars have decided before 8:15 AM that driving was dangerous? My next car is going to be a Zamboni, snowmobile, or dog sled. Hey, I remember Sgt Preston of the Yukon. "Mush, you huskies!"

Humor me: Invest in my 402L Plan (L is for laughter).

PS

Be sure to visit me also at sandraseeley.blogspot.com and check out The Writings Between Two Columns and the Future Champions.

yahoo.gone

noreply@blogger.com (Sandra Seeley) — Tue, 27 Feb 2007 06:51:00 +0000

Where's My Stuff?

So one day, after a 4 month layover at gmail.com, I decided to visit my old e-mail friends at yahoo.com. Imagine my shock and dismay to find all my contacts and messages had gone missing and my account was closed with nary (nary's a funny word) a warning shot, warning shout, or warning shimmy of this hostile takeover. No ransom demands! My stuff has been kidnapped and I want it back. I have an uneasy feeling that it's either somewhere over the rainbow or in Yahoo's Data Center in Antarctica. And why was it taken in the first place? Did Yahoo run out of storage space? Was Yahoo practicing Feng Shui? Was my clutter too much for them?

I've written to all my Amish friends who have promised to shun Yahoo for me. Also, the post office does not confiscate all my stuff if it's been 4 months between letters!

I've also contacted the leader of the next Penguin March at Antarctica.com. The Emperor has promised to mount a search and rescue operation for my stuff. He's assured me it will give his marching band something productive to do between life and death.

My menehune friends are rainbow hopping at a blazing 15 megabits per second, riding that big fiber optic wave in the sky in search of my cyber contacts. Hang ten guys! The little people have e-mailed me with some very creative uses for fiber optics and Yahoos! All I can say about that is, "Ouch!" Believe me, when menehunes are bad, they are very bad! You don't want to mess with a menehune. The little guys have promised to find my stuff or magically recreate it.

I'm busy at home making "Yahoo Stuff: Wanted Alive" posters for the Penguin Marchers. If you're free next week-end, please join us. You must have a valid passport and battery operated socks!

These campaigns are becoming relentless. I'm still marching against Roman Meal Bread, although I noticed their Honey Oat Bread is impossible to find around here. People must have tired of discovering junk in their bread. Now, I'm off to another continent to find my stuff. Next, I'm giving Pix Place People, online Verizon Wireless photo storage, their first notice of an imminent campaign.

It appears that my Pix Place Account with Verizon Wireless was cancelled due to inactivity on my part for 180 days. At least they gave me 6 months and 3 text message notices before going to vzwpix.com and wiping me out. The problem is when I take pictures with my camera phone or receive them, I don't know where they go. I don't remember creating a picture account in the first place and was too busy campaigning to stop in for a visit.

But if you see any of my photos with my Yahoo stuff, just remember that Antarctica makes me look 10 pounds heavier!

If you can think of any printable consequences for Yahoo involving fiber optic cable, move those marching, happy feet to your computer and e-mail this outraged future screenwriter at sandraseeley.com.

Clipped Coupons

noreply@blogger.com (Sandra Seeley) — Sat, 15 Jul 2006 20:42:00 +0000

The Coupons Bandit

My coupons got clipped by some early morning vandals. First of all, I assumed all crooks were asleep by 6 am, which is the time I left my parked car to enter my work building. At 6:45 am, co-workers were asking me if I came to work with a smashed car window. Sure, glass in your butt is just the thing to stay awake during that early morning commute! Also saves you the trouble of rolling down your window when a cop stops you for speeding or you need to toss coins in the turnpike toll basket.

Total cost to replace the window: $212.42. Total time to remove shattered glass inside the car: roughly 3 weeks and counting. Stolen items: $5.00 in gold coins for the Mon-Fayette Expressway and one mauve colored, recently organized with no expired coupons, coupon wallet.

Items not stolen: hands free cell phone headset, car charger for cell phone, two umbrellas, full Kleenex box, hand made lap blanket, dog with bobbing head on dash, CD player and St. Christopher medal (I guess saints have to sleep too or only protect MOVING travelers.)

Items not left in the car in the first place: All my CD's. Yea!

I now leave my car unlocked with a sign inside stating, "This car is protected by video monitoring." I've been smiling every morning for the turnpike cameras and now find out that they're fake too. Just a ruse to get me to pay that toll. Hope the crooks didn't read that article.

But I am really mad about the fate of my coupons. Some hammer wielding thug is going to get 25 cents off a Weight Watcher meal, $1.00 off Centrum Silver vitamins, 55 cents off Tylenol, and a free meal at the Olive Garden. Unfortunately, he'll discover no coupons for "coke". While he's sitting around getting high with his fellow fugitives, he can plan his next shopping trip. I just hope he doesn't come looking for me in a month or two when all of his coupon expire. I no longer keep such valuable items in my car.

To claim your reward for information leading to the arrest and conviction of above felon, e-mail the author, writer, crusader, victim.

When I Grow Up

noreply@blogger.com (Sandra Seeley) — Sun, 30 Apr 2006 03:23:00 +0000

Teacher Wannabe
When I grow up I want to be a teacher. Today is my 7th birthday and Mommy said as one of my presents she's going to sign me up for a pre-Act 48 class. This way I can get lots of practice staying up late doing homework as well as giving homework to my students and correcting it. I'm trying to decide which class to take. It's either going to be "Early Reading Intervention" or "Managing Antisocial Behavior. (Mine or the students? Hey, I get confused, I'm only 7.) Each class involves reading 4 inch binders then writing reflections on those topics into the wee hours of the next time zone west. My short term goal is that by my 12th birthday I'll have 180 pre-Act 48 credits in place.

Daddy is getting my support team finalized. His law firm will do my legal representation, my HMO doctor is already on active duty as head of my medical team, and I'm searching for just the right psychiatrist - discreet but not afraid to dispense helpy pills in my medz dispenser shaped like Darth Vadervelt. (Any similarities between existing superintendents or Star Wars Characters either living, never living, or dead is purely coincidental.) Daddy is also in negotiations to promote my idea of adult Pez/Medz Dispensers in the shape of the IRS, Dave Barry, Lamborghinis, Bose radios, red hats, Kahlua & Cream bottles, Acid Reflux bottles, and Tylenol extra strenth gel tabs. So don't steal my idea!

Ghost writers are hard at work preparing a comeback comment to that age old accusation that teachers only work 9 months out of the year. The leading CC (comeback comment) so far is "Liar, liar pants on fire!" (Hey, my ghost writer is only 10 years old!) I think a CC Contest would be fun so look for the details next week. Naturally, you will be scored on a rubric and all rules will meet the state standards for contests.

My favorite teacher, Miss Kanela, suggested that I begin investing in her 402L Plan. She personally spent over $1,000 last year on student good behavior bribery treats and school supplies. (This is the truth!) So with my birthday money, I'm opening my very own tax shielded 402L account.

Grandma signed me up for karate lessons. She, as a former teacher, told me they will prove invaluable for breaking up fist fights, thwarting thugs, and providing the mental discipline to run like a bunny when someone threatens to shoot me.

Grandpa signed me up for the Car of the Month Club. He, as a former police officer, told me a new car every month will prove invaluable for smashed windows, flat tires, damaged paint, and an empty spot where my car was once parked.

My friends surprised me with lots of energy drinks, caffeine in raw form, chocolate, and a bottom desk drawer for quick access and storage. They couldn't afford the desk, but at least I have a drawer.

My absolute favorite gift today was a Virtual Reality Classroom. It's way overcrowded with a culturally diverse group of students. One student looks suspiciously like the "Seed of Chucky" and acts quite bizarre. One big drawback is that people from the state keep popping in to monitor and decree. I heard rumors that for our next governor we may elect a King!

Job security has me a little paranoid though since I once left my Teddy Bear behind on a trip to Grandma's. During my untenured years, Mom is keeping a personnel file on me to help me accept negative comments. And Daddy made me read all 3,000 pages of the No Child Left Behind Act. My fluency rate has skyrocketed since Mommy marked all 3,000 pages in Phrase-cued text and Daddy constantly tests my comprehension with Questioning the Author Technique. (See Isabel Beck, nationally known educator and author from Pittsburgh) I think I'm the only person in the nation who understands all the nuances of this document.

Summer school is approaching quickly. (Clue: There may be a CC hidden in that thought.) I'm thinking I better get lots of rest now to prepare for my future 18 hour days and 13 month school years.

Mommy says it's time to cut my birthday cake. This year, I decided not to make a wish and blow out the candles. I'm afraid my wish to become a teacher will come true a little too soon.

E-mail your comments, subpoenas, CC's (Comeback Comments), to teacher wannabe, author, writer; or post them here.

No Word From the Romans

noreply@blogger.com (Sandra Seeley) — Sat, 15 Apr 2006 02:03:00 +0000

Article XV
By Kanela

Roman Meal, Schwebel Baking Company, and their insurance company, Gallagher Bassett Services, Inc. are unsure what to expect from The Consumer Crusade at this time. Actually, we don't know what we're doing yet either. But the word is spreading and the Crusaders are marching.

For your marching orders contact Sandra Seeley, author, writer, and crusader.

Boycott Roman Meal Schwebel Baking Company

noreply@blogger.com (Sandra Seeley) — Mon, 10 Apr 2006 21:03:00 +0000

Artictle XIV

By Kanela

When was the last time you heard the word "boycott"? I believe it's time to use it again against a company that chose to ignore my ultimatum for justice.

Schwebel Baking Company's insurance people asked me what I wanted for Mother Rose's unfortunate discovery in her Honey & Oat Bran bread.

I said, "$25,000."

They said, "Laughter."

I said, "You asked me what I wanted, not what I thought I would receive."

They said, "Louder laughter."

I said, "I will settle for $2,000. If I don't hear from you by March 24th, I will break my tentative vow of silence."

I believe they scoffed. (Scoffed is a funny word.)

Well all of you people out there in Readerland, I'm hoping you will join me on a Consumer Crusade. Let's show SBC (Schwebel Baking Company) that the keyboard is mightier than the Bread Company. This is for all the times you wanted compensation, but were refused and unable to do anything about it. Call or write Roman Meal, SBC, or Gallagher Bassett Services, Inc. Tell them you are not going to buy another loaf of their bread, etc. until they start removing pieces of de-panner equipment from their loaves or until Mother Rose gets compensated. (Price has now gone up to $4,000. Delay is costly. Price will continue to double willy-nilly (funny word).

In addition, you can display the disgusting pictures of their product in the bread aisle of your local supermarket. If we do this nationwide, we may get some results.

Meanwhile, if you would like to start contributing to the Mother Rose Fund, feel free to fax your tax deductible donations to:

1-800-GOT-RAW-DEAL

or

1-800-GOT-BIG-ZERO

Keep in mind that bills work best in a fax machine. We accept Euros also.

You can also e-mail your money to money@sandraseeley.com and I will make sure it goes directly to Mother Rose.

This part is for real. Call:

Roman Meal at 1-800-922-0017

Gallagher Bassett Services, Inc. at 1-800-437-1266

From this end of the monitor, I will continue the Consumer Crusade until we get compensated for the masses or until I can no longer number my articles in Roman Numerals. Go Consumers!

Roman Meal XIII

noreply@blogger.com (Sandra Seeley) — Fri, 31 Mar 2006 17:02:00 +0000

By Kanela

Roman Meal's Honey & Oat Bran bread is advertised as "All Natural". What is wrong with these people? I don't consider flexible tubing the size of Texas, that's baked into my bread, to be "natural". It may be an excellent source of fiber but it is not "natural whole grain goodness".

Along with 300 mg of sodium, various carbohydrates, sugar, protein, iron, and calcium, I believe rubber tubing should have been first in the list of ingredients in descending order of predominance. And Roman Meal and Schwebel's Bread was neglectful in choosing not to list it at all.

A very special 88 year old fan from Readerland, (my Mother), was the early morning victim of this gruesome discovery in her bread. I don't see how this 1 and ½ inch long, 1 inch diameter, filthy piece of de-panner equipment (see pictures) helps us get our recommended servings of whole grains. And I, for one, am not going to eat 6-11 servings of this piece of Junk every day.

In Roman Meal's defense, I want to say they were most generous in sending a check for $10.00 and a letter of apology. However, I was really upset that they sent a handful of coupons for more Roman Meal bread when I specifically told them I wanted coupons for a competitor's bread!

Then the parent company, Roman Meal, turned this whole fiasco over to their child, Schwebel Baking Company whose insurance Company offered us ten times more. They wanted us to accept $100.00 and take a vow of silence about their product. What next? A vow of poverty? (no need for that-I'm already at that level). A vow of chastity? (no comment)

If you believe Roman Meal was negligent in letting a piece of operating equipment (last maintained when?) bake into our bread, feel free to write them at:

Roman Meal Consumer Services

2101 S Tacoma Way

Tacoma, WA 98409

If you feel Mother Rose should be compensated generously for her trauma, feel free to comment on her favorite oldest daughter's website or write the Author and Writer.

And if I were you, I would subject my Roman Meal/Schwebel breakfasts to an X-Ray machine before consuming. See Roman Meal Pictures and note that children 40 and younger should view these with a parent.

Mice Are Not Nice

noreply@blogger.com (Sandra Seeley) — Wed, 29 Mar 2006 06:42:00 +0000

By Kanela

I've lived in my childhood home off and on for the past 50 plus years and have encountered two mice. The first was years ago, as a little girl, with tender feelings for "All Creatures Great and Small." My Dad caught that little fellow in a paper bag and I made him promise to take Mickey outside and let him go. To this day, I don't know whether he kept that promise. After the morning I just had, I hope he didn't!

It all started at 5am in my usual rush to make a nutritious lunch for work. I yanked ("yanked" is a funny word) open the pantry cupboard door, looking for cookies, resulting in what I thought was a Jello box falling from a shelf on the door to my shoulder. However, last time I checked, Jello boxes do not have a head, legs, and tail. I discovered that I'm quite fluent in screaming. I screamed in English (being my native language), Spanish (being my high school language), French (being my want-to-learn language ), Ukrainian (being my ancestral scream), German (being guttural and properly harsh), and finally Australian (but who could understand that scream?) Perhaps that's why no one in the family came running to investigate the screaming ninny in the kitchen! After slamming the cupboard door on Mr. Mouse, I did the girlie thing of standing on a chair. I used this heightened awareness time to contemplate my next strategy. Would pepper spray leave lingering smells in the kitchen? Would pepper spray bring down a mouse? Would macing a mouse have lingering emotional effects on me? You may be wondering why I have pepper spray in my possession. But that's another story.

The clock was ticking and I was wishing the mouse would run up said clock and be struck Hickory Dickory into the next parallel universe. Unfortunately, I was the one who had to come down, leave a Danger Note for slumbering family members, and depart for work without my cookies.

Traumatized but functioning, I called home at a decent hour to get an up-date on the situation. Husband and Mother had both heard the screams but Husband thought I was sneezing and Mother was groggy so both just went back to sleep. Is that concern or what?

Perhaps Dad is smiling down at me, letting me know that he kept his promise and I've only seen one mouse in this house.

Leave an E Note for Sandra Seeley, Humor Writer, Author, Columnist, and Speaker

Does Anyone Else...?

noreply@blogger.com (Sandra Seeley) — Mon, 27 Mar 2006 18:01:00 +0000

By Kanela

Perhaps you're like me and wonder about things for years with no answers forthcoming. Well, today's column is finally going to address some of those thought provoking questions.

For example, does anyone else wonder why Albanians are always referred to as "Ethnic Albanians"? Not that there's been a lot of press coverage lately about Albania, but as I said, these thoughts float around in my head for years. Why not ethnic Spanish, ethnic Greeks, Ethnic Australians, etc.? If ethnic means common traits and customs of groups of people, we might want to start classifying ethnic infants or ethnic elderly or ethnic criminal. And does anyone out there in readerland know where Albania is located?

Moving forward, sometimes I look at the "best dressed" photos of people and wonder if this is the best dressed, what does the "worst dressed" look like? Or could this just be envy that I wasn't invited and couldn't fit into a Size 2 even if I were invited?

Speaking of clothing, one of the less expensive brands of clothing has finally eliminated those annoying labels that scratch your neck and require surgical precision to remove. I was so excited when I heard about this until I realized this company permanently stamps their brand name and YOUR size onto that same neck area. Yes, readers, your favorite columnist would not reveal her size or weight even if her life depended upon it. I hope anesthesiologists factor in lying when calculating correct drug dosage!

Does anyone else remember when truck drivers used to flash their lights to let you know after passing them it was safe to move back in front of them? What a friendly gesture that was. That was probably Rule #1 in the Highway Courtesy Handbook. Since I started driving, I've seen lots of gestures on the highways but none of them were in that Handbook. By the way, where is the original Handbook? If you've read The Da Vinci Code you'll discover that its final resting place is right alongside the Holy Grail. I don't want to give away the ending but if you’re searching for it, you may want to brush up on your French.

In conclusion, Farm Aid is another thing I've been wondering about. I don't grow corn and I haven't seen one penny of "Don't Grow Corn Money".

If any of you have questions wandering around in your head for years, feel free to share them with me. I, in turn, will get my ethnic Albanian researchers to discover the truth for you. As soon as we locate Albania, we'll get right back to you.

Feel Free to Email me with your Research Questions.
Research Writer and Author, Sandra Seeley.