It's Getting a Little Old

I have a lot of email accounts. A RIDICULOUS number of email accounts, in fact. I just never shut them down when I get a new one, so I still have sorta-active email addresses originating all the way back to high school.

OK, so I still have some AOL email accounts. And, yes, I said "some." As in, more than one.

Take a moment and finish mocking me for that. I'll wait.

Ready?

Anyway, right around last year's election, I started to notice that some of my different AOL email addresses appeared to have started developing different "personalities." I don't know why. I don't know how. I just know that the only time I use those addresses if for online shopping and bill pay. Maybe buying stuff from a gardening place gets you on a different spam list than buying from Amazon does. Whatever.

Right before the election, it became clear that one of my AOL accounts and its near twin in screen names had somehow managed to fall on opposite sides of the political fence. One account attracted HARDCORE Republican spam, and the other equally HARDCORE Democratic spam. If the two had ever had to be in a room together, I can guarantee there would have been a brawl.

Now yet another email address has decided to develop a "personality." It was my *real* email address for a long time, but then became so overcome with spam that I started only logging into it maybe once every two weeks. I was expecting something to hit that address yesterday, so I logged in and was met with a lovely little email from AARP.

I'm 33.

AARP can kiss my too-young-and-hot-for-them-booty.

After that blatant insult, I moved on with life, and realized that the email I sought wasn't there. So, today, I logged in again, quickly scanning for The Email.

Then I saw it.

An email from Ed McMahon.

As if the image of that particular life-sized wax figure weren't enough, good ol' Ed was there to tell me how I could qualify for a free motorized scooter.

So I can regain my mobility.

I'm shutting down that email account. I can handle being called a Republican. I will deal with being called a Democrat. Just don't call me old.

33.

GAH!

Game Over. I Lose.

Lately I've been trying really hard to get Alexis in the habit of cleaning up her toys when she's done playing with them. Be it her 8 kajillion dolls, a tub of Legos, a box full of Play-Doh, or a bunch of puzzles, she has a choice--she can clean it up the second time I ask, or I will confiscate it. And hide it. And probably forget what the heck I did with it.

(I have no idea why I don't just take stuff away if she doesn't put it away the first time I ask. Apparently I am a wimp. Who believes in second chances. Or something.)

Anyway, she is generally pretty good about picking up, just so long as the instructions are very specific. It has to be, "pick up these puzzle pieces and put them in this box." Not a big deal, really, just so long as I manage to keep my wits kinda-sorta about me. I've only confiscated one item in the past week, and since it was the Hungry Hungry Hippos Game, I might have been a bit quick on the draw with the confiscating. I love playing that game, but I hate hearing somebody else play it and play it and play it. And play it.

Tonight Alexis and I spent two solid hours doing puzzles. We put together a little Belle puzzle. We assembled a Mickey puzzle. Then we moved on to the biggie--the 100 piece Hello Kitty puzzle. It took us quite a while to put that sucker together, especially since a certain fuzzy cardboard-eating creature kept trying to "help." We finally finished it, and Alexis stood up to do a little dance of joy.

As she finished, I asked her to start putting the pieces in the box. She said, "No." I retorted with my last chance offer. She retorted with, "Make the puzzle go away, Momma."

Dammit.

I'm being beaten at my own game. Again.

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Alternate (less whiny) title: No hair? No problem! Just call Hannah Montana!