FlipSide:Starting July 2nd, 2001

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A journal of the trials, tribulations, and triumphs in the life of a woman in the 21st century.

Last Updated : Saturday, July 07, 2001 11:55:04 PM -0500

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Monday, July 2, 2001

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Oh no!!! The peanut butter cups are back! Cindy, the lady who supplies my company with chocolate (apparently that is part of the job description of the VP of Human Resources, of course, what better way to keep your staff happy) has been unable to go for supplies for a couple of months, so we gradually ran out of chocolate. I learned to live without it. In fact, I reveled in the chocolate free atmosphere. Okay, so reveled is a little strong. Perhaps I persevered? Maybe even prospered. Lord knows my thighs do not need peanut butter cups. But this weekend, Cindy felt recovered enough from her foot surgery to go to Sam's Club. And today, she came into the office with her booty. Two full paper cartons full of candy, most of it chocolate. Coward that I am, I quailed from the sight and ran away. But, those peanut butter cups sang their siren song to me, calling persuasively to me from the front desk. Unfortunately, my new office is even closer to that demon chocolate. At about 11 am, I could take no more. I submitted. I gave in to my weakness and sated my cravings. Again and again and again. Oh, I am such a weak willed creature. I admit to my creator that I have no power over my addition.

Today, I am thankful for my own 2 children. The Volkmuth children, of which there are five, today got into some trouble. In fact, in my mind, they have committed an unpardonable sin. Let's start at the beginning. It started with number two son and number three playing football in the living room. With cans of Pepsi. After exploding approximately half a case of Pepsi, (the fact that they didn't learn after the first can exploded makes me seriously question their intelligence) they were discovered by their mother. She was not pleased, to put it mildly. Unfortunately, their mother needed to make a run to the bank. As it was mid morning and the oldest child is almost 13, she deemed it safe to make the quick trip sans children.

As it turns out, this was not a good decision. In her absence, her children decided to prepare themselves something to eat. 5 quarts of chocolate ice cream, 5 pounds of sugar, and 32 ounces Hershey's chocolate syrup later, Mom came home. (It is the ungodly abuse of chocolate that violates common sense, good taste, and I am quite positive, at least 3 commandments.) The children were higher than kites from the sugar, the kitchen and dining room were a shambles and the children were banished to the outdoors.

Unfortunately, this was not a really good idea. It seems all the sugar had an undesirable side effect on number 3 son. It apparently raced through his system, raged through his colon and exited rather abruptly at a rather public moment. In the middle of the street. Several blocks from home. So, not being unduly afflicted with modestly, he simply dropped his drawers, as it were, and continued to walk home, all his parts waving in the breeze for all to see. (And we never broke 70 degrees today. I wonder if he got goose bump?) His older brothers, in an attempt to be helpful, ran home to provide him with a towel to cover his nether regions. (What, they couldn't find pants!?!) I am pleased to report that all five children are still living (although their muscles continue to quiver from the overdose of sugar earlier today) but their mother is contemplating better living through pharmaceuticals. In fact, she is planning on composing a letter to her congressman, lobbying for the over the counter sale of morphine to parents for their own use.

Right now, I treasure my own children's misdeeds. Their sins are so much more . . . mundane.

Tuesday, July 3, 2001

Man. I am incredibly tired. Although I am falling asleep on the couch each night while the kids are still up - no easy feat with my noisy children, let me tell you. Yet, when I go to bed at night, I find myself wakeful, so I end up reading until nearly midnight. A very late night when your alarm is going off at 5:45 am. Luckily I have tomorrow and Thursday off, so perhaps I can catch up on some sleep.

Tonight has turned out to be history night at the Dominik hacienda. From 7 to 9 o'clock, we watched the History Channel, which runs a series, History's Mysteries that we all enjoy. Then they were rerunning their Founding Fathers series. Tonight's episode was about Samuel Adams, John Hancock, and John Adams. Then, I switched to PBS to watch Secrets of the Dead. Tonight's episode is about a skeleton found near Stonehenge and archeologists efforts to discover the circumstances of his death. Very interesting, if a little morbid.

The plans for tomorrow include a picnic at Fort Snelling, fireworks in St. Paul, perhaps a parade in the morning if we all move early enough. Then Thursday, John will go to work, leaving me with my children. YIKES! Actually, it was my choice to keep them out of daycare, I will just have to come up with something for them to do.

Well, I am feeling terribly uninspired today, so I will end this right here. Ciao!

Wednesday, July 4, 2001

Thursday, July 5, 2001

Friday, July 6, 2001

Saturday, July 7, 2001

(No, she's not dead. Just pooped. Busy week, bad weather, and a busted network dongle have helped to keep her off the soapbox. She should be back soon... -- jd.)

Sunday, July 8, 2001

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Copyright © 2001 Ann Dominik. All rights reserved. Complaints about the technical details of this page can be directed to the abused geek who takes care of it for me, and is grossly underpaid for what he does, he thinks. No reproduction without written permission. The opinions and content of this site are my own, and not the responsibility of this site's host, my employer, my pets, my parents or anyone else you may care to blame. Please respect my opinions and I will do the same for you. I may on occasion publish e-mail to me; if you do not wish your mail to be published, please write CONFIDENTIAL or DO NOT PUBLISH at the top of the e-mail. If you would prefer to remain anonymous, please note that as well. If you're incapable of reasoned civilized discourse but feel compelled to correspond with me, I'll be happy to filter your mail out after a few choice comments regarding your ancestors, upbringing, and the likelihood of your family tree not