Ginny Sanchez

My son actually loves me. I swear.

So, what sort of man would buy the Kool-Aid Reebok sneakers on clearance, and wear them to work? What sort of man would proudly wear them to go with his Reeses Peanut Butter cup T-shirt? What sort of grown man would come to work looking like he's Willy Wonka's wet dream?

...why, my boss. That's who. Check out these sneakers!

Here's me & the illustrious Bert Baron holding our NJ Ad Club awards, 1st & 2nd place. One last year, two this year. The only way to top this is a clean sweep next year.

Outside in and inside out you’re my meat
Fat and forty but lordy you’re my meat
From your feet to your head you knock me dead, you’re my meat
I got you covered but baby, you’re my meat

In the days of old when knights were bold
They were pious and modest I’m told
Can’t you see that couldn’t be me
I’d have to talk about your yams and your big fat hams

It excites me so because I know you’re my meat
Fat and forty but lordy you’re my meat

In the days of old when knights were bold
They were pious and modest I’m told
Can’t you see that couldn’t be me
I’d have to talk about your yams and your big fat hams
It excites me so because I know you’re my meat
Fat and forty but lordy you’re my meat

Fat and forty but lordy lordy . . . you’re my meat!

Yeah, I'm still listening to Joe Jackson.

I would do this.

Nathan Lane as Gomez Addams? You may as well make Roseanne Barr Morticia. Don't get me wrong--Nathan Lane is one of the finest actors of our time, IMHO--but Gomez Addams? Not a chance in hell.

Just got this important voicemail from a co-worker. Because radio is a very serious business.

Here's a picture of my son's rack from last year, when he graduated from BMT:


...and here is a picture of my daughter's rack, when she graduated from boot camp this week:


Pictures of both are available at my gallery; I also uploaded new pictures of Jen over at my Facebook, if that's where you normally catch up with me.

Those following along on Facebook or Twitter, by now, have been kept up to date on yesterday's 13 hour trek down the east coat from lovely NJ to SC, so that I can attend my daughter's Marine Corps boot camp graduation. I had actually given myself two days to do the drive--with multiple sclerosis, I simply never know when I have to stop and take a rest--but I did manage to plow through and get the trip done in one day. So today, I will be recovering from my drive so I am well-rested and ready to stand in the sun tomorrow during family day at Parris Island. I might try to sneak on base today, to take an early tour; we'll see if I am successful.

Yesterday was a day of firsts: the first time I've done that long a drive since my carnival days as an 18 year old lass; the first time I've been to South Carolina, and the first time in my life that I got a speeding ticket. I blamed my car mate for that one: normally when I get pulled over, I smile, I'm polite, I'm alone, I innocently tell the officer that pulled me over that I've never gotten a ticket before (which was true up until yesterday). Yesterday however, I was in the car with an 18 year old, a 30 year old Marine and myself. I think having a man in the car ruined my mojo. That, and the fact that the NJ State Trooper claimed to have beaned me on laser doing 86 in a 65. I didn't think I was going that fast, and I do not know how accurate the laser is over radar, so I think I have to take my lumps and pay an insurance surcharge for a couple of years over it. I do know that on the ticket the officer specifically checked that I was not wearing glasses, which means that he was not looking at me at all when he was talking to me. Without my glasses I can't even see my hands in front of me. I have been wearing them daily since I was in the 2nd grade, and I am 45 now.

But, that's neither here nor there. The NJ State trooper was doing his job, so whatareyagonnado...Today I am going to photograph the trees that are all around here but which I find exotic and strange, it looks like weeping willows with fur hanging off of the branches. I am going to survey the area, do a little recon, and twitter what I find.

But right now I need to get the free breakfast at the hotel before all the danish is gone.

oooh-rah!

You know that old wives' tale about not swallowing watermelon seeds because if you do, one will grow in your stomach? Well, no one ever addressed the dangers of accidentally breathing in a fir tree seed, and having it sprout into a sapling in your lungs. (warning: gore shot!)