Are diamonds a girl's best friend? How the hell would I know?
Ladies and gentlemen, I am on a roll today...

A friend of mine sent me this link:
http://magma.nationalgeographic.com/ngm/data/2002/03/01/html/ft_20020301.1.html

Apparently it's bad to have a diamond because of the diamond diggers in Sierra Leone. The villagers are tortured for diamonds which are in turn sold by organizations like al Qaeda.

I must take a stand. So even though I know there are those of you, perhaps dozens, clamoring to be the one to get down on one knee with the turquoise blue box from Tiffany & Co., I cannot accept your big, princess cut diamond ring. Or, for that matter, your tainted proposal if you think the only way I will accept it is accompanied by said princess-cut diamond in a platinum setting.

This is very funny to me because I am perhaps the one person in my circle whom the diamond ring escapes. Well, I do have my Grandma's. But that's not really the same. I'm sure my Grandfather wasn't aware of the plight of the diamond diggers. And it's not like any man has ever said to me "Hey, I care about you so much, I want a diamond digger in Sierra Leone to face a life of torture". Or it's not like I've even gotten some sort of certificate that says "A donation has been made in your name to a diamond digger in Sierra Leone, please accept this certificate in lieu of a receiving a blood diamond". Sigh.

Like at this point I have any hope, hope the size of a diamond chip, left. Why would I hold out any hope that anyone wants to give me the diamond and the promise that goes along with it? Me and my $3 cups of coffee and my $100 highlights and my always messy car and my long skinny fingers and my big zit and my pretty toenails and and and...

I did have a diamond ring once, and it was a big diamond - marquis with baguettes - but I traded it in for the shiny red sports car. My dad said if I gave the ring back he'd buy me a car and I did and he did. So I did not keep the "blood" diamonds of the Sierra Leone people, AND I benefited the United Auto Workers Union 257. Plus I saved one guy the tortured existence and sheer agony of being a guy in my life.

Seriously, I do feel bad about the diamond diggers.

Why I hate Wal Mart - one of about 75 reasons

OK, went to the Small-Mart (Wal Mart Grocery Store). Here is exactly what I bought: pancake mix, eggs, fat-free milk, coffee and children's Tylenol. I mention the milk is fat-free, because I'm thinking it's got to weigh less than regular milk. They put my groceries in 4 plastic sacks. This drives me insane, especially since I have to schlep the stuff all the way upstairs. I feel particularly bad about this since there are probably impoverished plastic sack makers in Sierra Leone as well and I am a bad person because the evil bastards at Wal Mart put my 5 items into 4 sacks. Geeez.....glad I didn't actually buy a cart-load of groceries. I'm really not familiar with this whole "grocery shopping" experience, but how do people carry 75 sacks into their home and individually unwrap each item? It's just like the damn pantyliners, all over again.

The Elves are gone

The evil Keebler E.L. Fudge double stuff cookies are gone. Finally. Ding dong the elves are gone, the wicked elves are gone gone gone! I just ate the last two because I needed them to be all gone. Some people don't believe in elves but I totally do. They were haunting me from the fridge, saying "eat me", "eat me". This is why I don't buy cookies. That and the fact that Wal Mart feels the need to individually gift wrap each grocery item I purchase.

8 years later, still having post-partum depression

My son had surgery today. He is so big that they could not put him in a little kid gown. They had to get an adult gown. With the oversize gown and the whole rock-star hair thing he has going on, he looked like one of the disciples. When they came in and put that shower cap thing over his hair, he just looked so pathetic. Then they wheeled him away to surgery. This is one of the worst parental feelings I have experienced. He's had the surgery thing before, and granted it is much easier to explain to an 8 year old why you can't eat and drink after midnight, than it is to explain to a 4 month old you are nursing. Makes my boobs hurt just thinking about it.

Former spouse came. He was as helpful today as, well, as he was during the tenure of our marriage. And we are extremely grateful for the contribution he is able to make. That's all I'll say about that.

Anyways, alls well that ends well, and Nate is milking surgery for all it's worth. So far he's gotten a pizza, a large Sprite from Sonic, a Van Halen CD and the new Scooby Doo movie on DVD. He asked me what I was buying for him, apparently my paying his co-payment was not enough.

And no worry about going on "Fear Factor" if we can't even down a teaspoon of bubble-gum flavored Tylenol.

Hertz hurts

I got ran into two weeks ago and my car is in the shop. Tried to take the car into the shop yesterday, but Hertz didn't have a rent car for me. Apparently EVERY SINGLE CAR in the greater Oklahoma City area was rented indefinitely. It was touch and go there for a while, but they did manage to round up a car for me today. And when I went to pick it up, they made this big deal over how I was getting the only available car in the city. Yes, me. You had no idea what a powerful woman I am. Whatever. It's red and it has a CD player, so I'm a happy girl. Power windows too. Woo-hoo! Also when I went to pick it up, the Hertz rental car computer system was apparently a giant mystery to the Hertz employee. When he got everything entered into the 'system', it was charging me $1.60 for my insurance-provided rental car. Then they tried to 'fix' it and the system was then trying to pay me $1.60 each day for driving the rental car.

What I have eaten today

It is too numeous and too shameful to list. It was all downhill after the elf cookies.

I've had one. busy. day.

-Robyn....driving my upgraded rental car with 82 grocery sacks but no diamond on my hand and getting a big 'ol fat ass...

- posted by Robyn @ 2:06 PM