Do You KNOW what Pollen IS?!?

(Click comic to enlarge.)

So some have thought that I make things up for my blog. Here are some pictures to support my comic. And really the pictures do not do this phenomenon justice.

My front stoop that has some cover from the elements.

My pollen gutter, I mean rain gutter.

Snot on Planes

Last week I went up to Minneapolis, MN to visit some of my family and get a fresh breath of Midwestern air. Of course this required a plane trip up there and back. I know a lot of people that don't like to fly because of the close proximity to other people and their sicknesses. Some people I know get sick ever single time they fly. I however have little fear of getting sick and am normally pretty good about other people's grossness. As I'm sure my mother can attest, I was the little girl that contemplated throwing dirt in my scrapes to see if I could get them to puss. But facial liquids…facial liquids are a completely different story…

I stared at the Suduko puzzle on the back of the in-flight magazine sipping my Sprite with no ice on the Boeing 737. Minding my own business I hear the sound that makes my skin crawl off of my muscles and bones into my shoes. SSSSNNNIIIIHHHHHAAAA The mucus fighting to get out and the person refusing to let it go while the nose screams in horror. This individual has some sick obsession with fighting gravity to pull that snot up past their nose hairs and into their throat. As I hear this I could feel a phantom wad of mucus sliding down the back of my throat to my unsuspecting stomach below. Don't these people get enough food in their lives? They will give you as many pretzels that you want on the plane. Does other people's snot taste like chocolate? What am I missing!?

I spotted the culprit on the way up to MN. I stared at the back of his head contemplating if I could render him unconscious, and thus making him stop, by chucking my pen at his head. I analyzed the obstacles in my way (other passengers) and determined the different ways this could go wrong. But I was willing to take the risk. Unfortunately, I just couldn't subject my poor pen to touching such a disgusting person. I looked at the call button wondered if I could ask the flight attendant to suffocate the man with a pillow. But she didn't look strong enough. The man obvious had great nose pressure and could easily blow the attendant well into first class.

And if it wasn't bad enough that I had to fly next to this guy on the flight up and the flight back, his snot sucking was contagious. Other people all around me started the sniffling. I finally could take no more. My body curdled up into the fetal position as I started to twitch uncontrollably. My only hope was that the turbulence of the plane would comfort me enough to fall asleep and escape the horror.

As I started to fall in and out of consciousness I had an even worse experience. I thought I heard myself sniffle, and then again. Was this some sick dream? Was I really sniffling? I couldn't take it anymore! Luckily the plane landed shortly and I ran off. (I would like to take this time to apologize to any elderly ladies I may or may not have knocked over on my rush off of the airplane.) I could never have imagined in a million years how happy I was to be on Georgia ground.

Erin's Suburban Hell

Here is your guide. More than what I had when I did the trip.

It was one of the first gorgeous Saturday days of a Georgia spring and I was just starting to feel good after my surgery. I had been cooped up for the last 2 weeks at home and sitting in the office. I was ready to start a new beginning in Georgia with the new season. So I decided to take advantage of the nice weather and go explore what PTC had to offer. I drove my nice new car to Peachtree Lake (1) and started to explore. First, I checked out the fountain in front of the City Hall/Library. Next, I looked over the disc golf course. And then finally, I got serious and started walking around the lake.

Just stay by the fountain and you'll be fine.

I felt pretty good and entered the wooded area. Not completely sure where I was going I figured I could always backtrack. I had been on this first part of the path before. It was nice and everyone that walked or drove by in their golf carts smiled. I approached what I thought was a funny site (2). Someone had drawn a chalk outline of a person on the path. It didn't say "Abandon all hope all who enter here…" so I figured I was still good. I took a picture and moved on.

Sometimes you have to see the signs and READ them.

As I progressed I started to wonder where I was actually at. Right then (3) I saw a sign. It said "THE FRED" and it pointed further down the trail. (The Fred is the local amphitheatre. I was just wondering the other day how to get there so I thought I would walk a little more to see where it was.) I walked and then checked my watch (4). I had been walking for a while now. But it couldn't be that far. The people that passed by me didn't seem as friendly now. Maybe my look of bewilderment was showing. Could the locals see my fear? Were they going to attack? I quickened my step.

I was starting to worry now. I had just realized (5) that the lake was larger then it appeared on the map that I looked at earlier. They really should have a note on those things saying that the actual size is bigger than the picture.

By now (6) I had made it half way around the lake. So I thought. There was a map. I stood in front of it all sweaty in my jeans and t-shirt wishing I had dressed better for a walk of this size. My heart sank. I was on the opposite side of the lake from my car. All I wanted was to lie down. The people gave me dirty looks as I almost had to kiss the small posted map. I was without my reading glasses. Now I had a decision to make. Did I backtrack the way I came? Or do I continue on? At this point I had lost hope of actually finding this Fred they spoke of. But I still chose to walk the other side of the lake. Apparently, in my delusional state I thought that half way was half way any way you sliced it. But I would soon remember I was in Georgia not Iowa where this sort of logic did not exist.

I continued on the trail (7). Why was I walking away from the lake? Why couldn't I see the lake? But I saw that the path started to go back to the lake so I continued on. Walking, walking, walking. I started to feel the burn. Then my side got a stitch. Then my belly button started to hurt. O, no. I was supposed to be resting not killing myself! But what could I do? I was already, what I thought, over halfway done. I was able to see the lake again (8) so there was a glimmer of hope. Turning back would be worse. So I thought.

Soon the view of the lake was gone. I started to pull on my jeans to make it up the hill (9). I thought about stopping but then I knew I would not start again. And I was lost. Lost in my own Suburban Hell. Houses to the left and right. No lake in site. Even Dante had Virgil to guide him. Where was my guide? I thought about my phone. I could call for help. But who would I call? And the energy that I would have to spend to push the buttons was too much. With only the path to guide me I mustered the energy to move forward.

I thought of happier times, of the A/C in my new car, my comfortable bed, children playing. What children playing? I saw another sign (10). This time it was of a teeter-totter in the middle of the road with children playing on it. I took another picture. My heart sank. Here I am following and putting my trust in a path that was probably planned by the same stupid urban planners that put a piece of playground equipment in the middle of the road. Ug…stupid sadistic engineers. I hurried on hoping not to meet any of them.

Who thought a teeter-totter in the middle of the road was a good idea?

By time I reached (11) I had lost all hope. I started to look for a place to lie down and die. I would never seem my car again, my prized Beatrice.

Just when I started to fluff my death bed (12) I saw another sign. It read a street name that seemed familiar to me. Now this was only a little hope since all the names are the same with the exception of the BLV, ST, RD, addendum and what not. With the little energy I had left I carried my feeble body on. I hoped that my anguish would soon be over. And then I saw the City Hall/Library (13).

The end was near! I moved with all my power hoping not to collapse on the pavement in front of my car. I unlocked to doors and climbed in. For the first few minutes I just sat there with the A/C blowing on me. My legs were too weak to use the peddles. My multiple hour adventure was finally over. I mustered up enough energy to drive home never seeing the Fred.

You like me, you really like me!

Or maybe not. Hmmm….let’s not dwell on that. In any case it has come to my attention that my blog has gone forth and gathered more readers. Now it is not just family and friends but rather other people that have no idea how crazy I really am. O and let the games begin.

I have been linked to the online local Fayette Community Newsletter. Check me out: www.fayettefrontpage.com/columns/bloglist.htm. You have to scroll down and I’m the first blog under Fun & Misc. Seems only appropriate, I always seem to be the first in the category of Fun and Miscellaneous. The caption reads “An Iowa gal moves to PTC and isn't overly fond of our neck of the woods. Fun to read!” Now I would just like to clarify that it is not the neck of the woods that I mind so much as the armpit of the woods in PTC. And really I think this poster is saying “An Iowa gal moves to PTC and look at how messed up we make her. Fun to read!” But little did the Georgians know that I have always been messed up. Anyway, it was fun to find my blog is reaching out to the natives and they are not throwing rocks. Not yet. Please, Georgians, if you spot me, don’t throw rocks at me. I can barely function by myself. No assistance necessary in the malfunctioning parts.

But it is not just the Georgians that are spotting my blog. I recently received a comment from a Derek who lives all the way in the U.K. I have no idea how they found me but hey, I don’t care. He seemed a little less then happy but really I think he just wanted to plug his own website. And since I love tosee new commenters, what the heck. Visit Derek. UK @ www.dhbruk.pwp.blueyonder.co.uk.

Anyway if you are new to the blog, welcome. I hope you enjoy the tragic-comedy that is my life. If you are not new but are not commenting, shame on you. Grr. And if you have no idea what is going on, you're in the right place. Please, feel free to comment, and remember please don’t post anything that is not for sheep ears. If you want to contact me and not the rest of the world, you can send me an email via sheep.4225sc@gmail.com.

Georgia, you win!

I’ve had enough! I quit! Today I got up to go to Palm Sunday Mass and as I entered church it started to rain. I love the rain so it brought a smile to my face. Mass was long today, coming in at a total of one hour and 30 minutes. When I left church I got in to my car. As I drove home in the dreary weather, I saw the pollen that has been building up for the past few weeks become yellow swirls in the pooling water. As I came into my cal-de-sac my heart sank. Something was wrong.

My mind went to earlier that morning when I found my back door open when I woke up. Then to last night where I heard my neighbor tell the story of her car being robbed outside in her drive way. I pulled up to my driveway and saw where my font door used to be. I parked and went out. My place is completely trashed. Everything of value to me is either gone or destroyed from the rain. I have always been told that I live in the bad part of Peachtree City, but I never imagined. I mean it is Peachtree City, what crime is there, really?

Well, I won’t be living here anymore. This is the last straw! I’m packing what I have left and tomorrow I will call my company to quit my job. Georgia, you win.