Come Join The Fun

I’ve been meaning to do this post forever (okay, not really forever, but for over a month) and it’s about time that I do it. But first, please excuse my lack of manners the other day for not properly welcoming and thanking my new followers! It really means a lot to me that you all stop by and let me know that you are interested in what I have to say. So hugs to all my followers, old and new, you bring so much happiness to my little piece of the world.

 

I have mentioned a few times that I am in a role-playing group on Facebook based on the Dark Hunter series written by Sherrilyn Kenyon. The books are the perfect mix of romance, mythology, danger and action. The first book is Fantasy Lover and it’s the one my character, Selena, is seen the most. Basically, it’s about an average girl who has a very eccentric best friend (me!) who convinces her to do a spell to release a Greek sex slave from the book he is trapped in. Of course, nothing is as simple as it seems and by summoning this Greek, a whole world that they never knew existed is unveiled.

 

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I was hoping that I would be able to copy my scenes from Facebook to here, but I’ve gotten the impression that I shouldn’t do that. However, we have lots of followers of our group and non-characters are welcomed as Facebook “friends” and can read the interactions we play out.

 

If you are interested in the series and the group, you can “friend” my character using this link. Her name is Selena Laurens and when I’m logged in as my character, I have to remain in character and cannot be called by my real life name. Even if you’re not interested in reading the books, but want to see what this whole thing is about, you’re welcome to friend me and any of the other characters to watch us in action. Just shoot me an email (gordn99 @ gmail . com and remove the spaces) so I know to friend you right away.

 

And, we are also always looking for people to play different characters from the books. We have quite a few major openings right now and of course, there are tons of minor characters that could join in as well. Soooo, if you start reading the series and love it as much as I do (no kidding, some of the books I have read in just a day or two, they’re that good), you can join the group as a character and play along! With the talent I have seen here in the blogosphere, I know any of you would be a wonderful addition to the group. (And I have to admit I would love to interact with characters that I sort of know who’s on the other side of the screen. There’s a lot less pressure then.) It’s really very fun. We come up with our own story lines and then the characters act it out together over a number of days. It’s always fun to see how the story ends because with so many people involved and no script to go off, the story can include things that was never thought of during the original concept.

 

And if you aren’t interested in the Facebook group, but are still interested in the books, I’ll list the titles in reading order.

 

Fantasy Lover (one of my favorites)

Night Pleasures

Night Embrace

Dance with the Devil

Kiss of the Night

Night Play

Seize the Night

Sins of the Night

Unleash the Night (my all-time favorite from the series)

Dark Side of the Moon

The Dream-Hunter

Devil May Cry

Upon the Midnight Clear

Dream Chaser

Acheron (currently reading this one)

One Silent Night

Dream Warrior

Bad Moon Rising

No Mercy

 

I highly recommend the series. I love them and I hope you’ll check them out and see what all the fuss is about. And if you’re so inclined, come join the fun on Facebook. We’re basically a pretty silly group.

Not An Actual Marathon, But It Almost Seems Like It

Whoo! I am worn out. I feel like I’ve been operating in overdrive for the last five days. Like I’ve just run a marathon. I spent the weekend cleaning because I got some bug up my butt telling me I should dust and vacuum. Everything. Right Now! It’s a sick ritual I keep falling into. Every once in a while, I get irritated about something and then I feel like taking my frustrations out on dirt and grime. But I really hate cleaning so halfway through I get pissed that I’m cleaning while everyone else is just laying around or (worse!) continuing to dump toys on the floor. But by then, I can’t really walk away from cleaning because I’m already too far into it to stop. When I finish, I feel really good because A: I’m in a clean environment, which always makes me feel relaxed and B: I’ve worked out all of my frustrations. But then, within a day, toys are scattered all over my floor again and I wonder why I even bother. That’s the trouble with living with kids other people I guess.

Then, my daughter recently had a birthday so we took her a place called “Incredible Pizza” to celebrate. Just the four of us. (We’re trying to get her away from having parties every year. She’s 11 now so I think it’s probably time.) For those of you that aren’t familiar with Incredible Pizza it’s like an arcade on steroids. It’s very similar to Chuck E. Cheese, but it tries to attract a larger demographic by having more games and attractions that are more suited for older kids and adults, while still having plenty for the younger ones to play with. They also have a really large unlimited buffet that you can eat at the entire time you are there. (Yes, we have actually done both lunch and supper with playing in between the two meals before.) It’s a pretty cool place to go. Unless, of course, you’re like me and don’t really enjoy large crowds. Well, that’s not true. Large crowds are sometimes okay. It’s the large crowds of children that I don’t like. The only saving grace is that this place is large. The building used to be a large grocery store, so they are able to spread things out a bit. We were there nearly five hours and by the time we were ready to leave, I had just about been worn down into the ground.

Allow me for a moment to get on my soapbox. Grownups, I know that places like these are not always fun for the adults. Especially when you have a number of children that you are responsible for. I would much rather sit at my table the whole time too. I even had a really good book in my purse calling my name. And I also know that you cannot always keep your group together. Please, when you allow your children to go off without you, teach them ahead of time what is acceptable behavior. Kids that are twelve should not attempt to play on the toddler playground climbing equipment. It’s called toddler for a reason. Kudos to the boy who saw his friend getting ready to climb and was smart enough and brave enough to tell his friend, “My dad says we can’t play on that.” Kudos young man and I salute your dad. Job well done, sir. And grownups, do not allow young children to play without you. That’s just asking for trouble. Plus, they are not old enough to understand and/or remember said acceptable behavior. Also, when playing with your children, do not allow them to do whatever they want even though you are right there next to them. Standing on a moving car ride is not a good idea. I know you told your child to sit down but after he didn’t listen the four or five times you said it, maybe you should just yank your kid off the ride. It’s not going fast and he’s not even buckled in. I know that he’ll probably cry. I know it costs money to ride, but don’t worry about the 30 cents you’re wasting by not getting a full ride. Chalk it up to a learning experience and have hope that next time, he’ll stay sitting. Finally, adults and children, when going through the buffet line, do not pay more attention to the music that is playing and for the love of God, don’t dance while you’re picking out what food you want. Next time, this tired, hungry mama might go ape shit on your ass and no one really wants to see that. Especially my family. They would be mortified. As would I. I really do want to keep up the façade that I’m an easy-going person. Thank you.

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An example of indoor toddler playground equipment

Now I know that all of you, my lovely readers, do not need the instruction that I just provided. But I am sure, in the course of your days, you will run into people that do need the reminder. I don’t expect you to tell another adult that they should be doing something differently when it comes to their kids. No one likes getting unsolicited advice. But I just had a brainstorm. Maybe you could make up an event that would illustrate why their kid should not be doing whatever it is they are currently engaged in. Take this for example. When I saw the mom with the kid standing up in the car ride I could have said to her, “You know, I heard a couple of months ago at some other arcade, a kid was standing in a car kinda like that one and he fell out and got his foot caught in the gears underneath. I guess it really messed up his foot.” Well, maybe not. I wouldn’t have the guts to do that and I’d probably get called out on the story. But it’s pretty entertaining in my head! So I guess you don’t have to do anything, but maybe chuckle a little to yourself and remember that I went through the same thing.

So anyway, back to my weekend. My parents and Hubby’s mom all wanted to come over so they could give their gifts to Drama Queen. (I’ve decided that I need to give names to my family on here, so my oldest is now Drama Queen. Haven’t come up with a name for youngest yet.) My parents showed up about an hour after we got back home, which allowed me just enough time to tidy up the dishes from the morning and disaster still remaining on my kitchen counter. (Which apparently is oftentimes mistaken for a catch-all. Not only does it collect junk mail and other various papers, but also books, tools, toys, and whatever else we happen to be carrying as we walk by it.) Hubby’s mom came about 40 minutes after my parents. My parents left about seven o’clock, but then mother-in-law didn’t leave until quarter till eight. So it was a rush to get both kids into the bathtub and into bed. Needless to say, there was no time for me to make a cake or make cupcakes for Drama Queen to take to school. And I didn’t get my laundry done.

Monday was a mad rush to get my exercise at the Y in and get home to get laundry going. Monday night I got the cupcakes made and frosted and got finally got Drama Queen’s birthday cake made. It’s a chocolate lava cake and definitely one of my favorites!

Today I had to get Drama Queen to school early for her band rehearsal, get a quick trip into Wal-Mart done, and drop off the cupcakes at her school (preferably before school started so she could just stop in the office when she got to school after band.) I was already feeling stressed by the time school started because I did get the cupcakes dropped off beforehand (read: ran through the store like a mad woman, throwing everything into my cart in order to get done as fast as possible), it was raining and really cold and windy, and Drama Queen spent too much time not getting dressed and was late for rehearsal. (She left the table to go get dressed and 15 minutes later I went into her room and she was still in her pj’s!) But that’s how she learns, right?

I also had to do more laundry today to completely catch up. I open up the dryer to get the first load out and I see a pair of earbuds that came with a cell phone and can be used as a “hands-free” device. Shit. As soon as I saw them, I remembered putting them in the pocket of this flannel shirt that I washed. Clearly I didn’t think about checking the pockets. Oh, who am I kidding? I never check pockets! I know I should, but it takes enough time getting all the laundry done. It’s not like I use them very often, but sometimes I use those for my computer instead of my mp3 player earbuds. Now I’m afraid if I try to use them again they will short out my computer. Or shock me. I’m going to ask Hubby if they’re worth saving or if I should just throw them away.

We also cut the eggs of our first clutch tonight. Today was they day we expected them to hatch, so when we reach the expected hatch date, we snip a small slit in the egg so the snake has an easier time getting it’s head out. I can’t wait to see what we have inside this clutch! This is the most exciting part of breeding snakes.

But now I’m seriously ready for some rest and relaxation. I don’t know when that’s going to happen, so I guess I’ll just look forward to some quiet time in the cardio room tomorrow. I think Drama Queen has to go in early again tomorrow though. They’re really upping their rehearsals because the concert is coming fast. That could interfere with my plans to get to the Y. We’ll have to see how well I can plan this out.

I’m So Not Worthy

While I was gone on hiatus, I was given some awards from some really great bloggers that must really love me a lot. I don’t feel deserving of them since I was gone, but what can I say? I’m a sucker for the blog love and have to tell you about the wonderful people that gave them to me. I’m sorry it took me so long to accept them and post about them.

 

The first was from Alice X at Guys, Boys, & Men. She’s such a doll and has an incredible blog with lots of really cool relationship posts. Thanks for thinking of me Alice X!

 

 

The rules for this award say that I am supposed to copy and paste this award to my blog. Got it. I am supposed to thank the person that awarded it to me and place a link for their blog. That’s above the picture if you need to go check her out. (You should. She’s cool.) Now I have to list 7 facts about myself. Nuts. This is always the hard part. But here goes.

 

1. The last time I flew in an airplane was when I was 22 and I went by myself (huge accomplishment that was!) to Delaware to visit my one of my sisters and her family and go to a NASCAR Cup Series race. (They don’t live there anymore, however.) The really cool thing about that trip was there was a hurricane forecasted to hit Delaware the day I was flying in. I changed my ticket from an afternoon flight to a morning flight and arrived literally less than 30 minutes before the first bands started to hit. The rain from Hurricane Isabel (which I think by then had been downgraded to a tropical storm) started just as my sister and I were driving away from the airport. That night brought the full winds and rain which knocked out the power in the middle of the night and it wasn’t restored until sometime the following evening. Because of the bad weather, qualifying for the race was cancelled. (I was supposed to go watch qualifying with my sister’s father-in-law.)
2. I took dance lessons for nine years. I took ballet, tap, jazz, and my last two years, pointe. My toes still crack in the morning as proof of the beating they took. But they’re still pretty toes.
3. My first job was at a Dairy Queen in my hometown. But I’ve also worked construction, in a women’s clothing store, been an office manager, and am now a mom that does a little bookkeeping.
4. I feel like maybe I’ve said this before, but I believe in reincarnation and have had moments where I swear my past lives are trying to break through my subconscious. I like to think about what my next lives are going to be like and if some of the people from this life will reappear in my next one. I hope so.
5. I took one art class in college because I had to and I loved it! I’ve been in love with art ever since. I’m not so great at creating it, but I love looking at it. My whole house would be covered in it if my Hubby would allow me to put that many nails in the walls.
6. Just yesterday I joined a group with my sister and her coworkers where you log your physical activity and it converts it to the equivalent steps. Then it compares your steps with the other members in your group and takes your group total and compares it to other groups. It’s through the hospital she works for and it’s just a fun way to keep their employees active. My competitive side is now saying I really have to get my butt in gear and exercise more than I have been. I don’t like seeing my numbers so far below that of my sister. I’ve always had this incredibly competitive side about me that wants to be at the top of the heap. At everything. School, yoga (even though yoga isn’t a competitive anything; I’m sick like that), cheerleading, dance, whatever. This blog is actually one of the rare times I don’t feel competitive.
7. At one time, I think it was around the time I was 16-18, I had nine piercings. Three in each ear lobe, two in the cartilage in my upper left ear, and my belly button. Now I only have five. Two in each ear lobe and one in the cartilage in my upper ear. If I could ever get rid of my baby belly bulge, I would seriously consider getting my belly button pierced again.

 

Now I’m supposed to give this award to 5 other bloggers and have them pass it along. But I’m going to have to break this rule. Because I’ve been away so long, I think anyone reading this deserves an award (and the ones to follow) so grab it up and post away!

 

The second was from Lonely Suitor at Bold Remarks. He’s a really cool guy with a blog that is always making me laugh. Thanks Suitor, for thinking I have that little bit extra to offer everyone.

 

 

Again the rules say that I have to provide a link to the person who awarded this to me. Again, got it. Go check Suitor out. I’ll wait for you. Okay, good. Now that you’re back, it says that I have to  provide 3 things that I love about myself. Shit. This is probably harder than listing seven things about myself. Now I actually have to like myself?! Just kidding. Let me think.

 

1. I love to be different from everyone else. Basically, I don’t give a damn about what’s in style or what other people are wearing. I get what I like and what looks good on me. Period. I get a kick out of having interests that are different from other women, especially because guys are genuinely surprised when they find out I like something such as UFC, NASCAR, snakes, etc. I also get a thrill out of stepping out of line with people that always expect everyone to go along with what they say or want. I mentioned a story about doing that here so I won’t elaborate any further. (It’s #3 down at the bottom of that post in case you’re curious.) I should add though, that I always listen and follow the orders of those that require and deserve every respect in the world, such as law enforcement and the military. I would never question their authority unless there was something seriously off about them. It’s just those people so completely full of themselves that have no real reason to be that I like to fuck with.
2. Um, I guess I like my hair. It’s really long and really, really soft. The color is pretty boring, but when it’s highlighted, it’s much better.
3. I like that I’m detail-oriented. Some people might see it as a negative (well, some people probably see my #1 as a negative too, but fuck it, I think it’s awesome), but I like being organized and putting out work that has been looked at with a fine tooth comb. I’m a perfectionist that way. I truly get irritated with myself when I miss a mistake and post something either here or on my Facebook role-playing group that isn’t exactly right.

 

And again I am told that I need to pass this award on to 5 other bloggers. I was going to not do this, but I changed my mind. I do have some blogs that really do give that extra goodness so here there are, in no particular order. Okay, I lied, it’s in alphabetical order. And because I don’t give a damn about these rules (which is kinda funny because I actually am such a rule follower), I am giving it to 6 – not 5 – very funny and very talented chicks.

 

The Onion at A Lot of Layers

Chanel at Fabulously Neurotic

Ms Jenna at FACS Teacher Jenna

Jewels at Jewels Turning 30

Random Girl at Random Girl Blog

Kat at Tapetum Lucidum

 

Finally, my lovely Kat at Tapetum Lucidum gave me this award that I definitely don’t deserve because my rack is more than lacking, but because I love her, I’m going to play along and pretend I have something worth looking at there. So thank you, my dear Kat, I can never live up to the standard of you and Jewels, but I love that you thought of me.

 

 

And with this award, I am supposed to post a picture of said rack. Now before I do so, I feel I must in the spirit of full disclosure, tell you that what you will see is more bra than boob and that I couldn’t create cleavage if my life depended on it. So don’t get your hopes up too high. They just aren’t worth getting your undies all in a bunch.

 

 

And like the first, I am just going to allow any of my lovely ladies to take this award and run with it, because hey, who am I to tell you that you should or shouldn’t show off your set. If you want to do it, now you have the perfect excuse to do so!

 

I also wanted to share my excitement from yesterday, but it really doesn’t need it’s own post. I bought myself a pair of sexy boots yesterday morning and am all excited to shake my money-maker in them! I promised on Twitter (if you don’t follow me on Twitter and want to, the button is on the upper left!) that I would have pictures coming, so, drumroll please!

 

 

They’re only a tiny bit too big, but with feet as small as mine, you learn to not complain when you find a pair that are even close to fitting. They’re not black (more of like a brownish gray color), but again, when you find a pair that are still really cute and practically fit, you don’t quibble about the color. It’s not the greatest picture, but I took both of them with my webcam, so the quality is not as good as it could be. I’ll get a better picture soon.

 

So that about does it for me today. I think I’ve spent more than enough time talking your ear off. I’m in an exceptionally chipper mood today, so before I overdose on happy and give you a second-hand sugar high, I’ll just give you a hug and say see you later!

Why (I Think) We’re So Interested In Your Sex Life

The lovely Randy Girl over at Random Girl Blogs had a post Friday titled, “'Soft-Core Friday' If You Had a Sex Life, Would You Worry About Mine?” (She has some really incredible writing, so if you aren’t a follower of hers already, you really should be.) When I saw the title, I immediately started thinking about why people are so interested in other people’s sex lives. Little did I know that it was actually lyrics from a song. But my brain was already running away with the idea of why we care about the sexual activities of other people.

 

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Even though I have a sex life of my own, I’m curious about how, where, with whom, and how often other people are having sex. And if I had to guess, I would say a high percentage of people are the same. (Although I must add the caveat that when I asked my husband about this subject, he said he doesn’t wonder about other people’s sex lives. So maybe women are more interested in other people’s sex lives than men. Maybe men are only interested in their own. I don’t know. This is all conjecture on my part.)

 

But anyway, back to the subject at hand. Why am I interested? Is it because I’m a big horn ball? Possibly so. I’ll be the first to admit my libido is most likely higher than the average. That’s probably why I devour romance novels like I do.

 

Am I a voyeur or a gossip? No on both parts. I don’t want to watch you and I don’t talk about your stories to other people. (Unless you count here on my blog, but I don’t use names and you wouldn’t know the people I refer to anyway! That doesn’t make me a gossip, does it?!) Although, maybe I do have a small gossip living inside me. I really do wonder about who’s sleeping with whom. Especially married people that just don’t seem compatible. I’ve talked about this before, here, and I know that it’s wrong, but I just can’t seem to help myself.

 

What I really think is the reason is that I want to see if my sex life is normal compared to others. You know, normal in the sense of regularity. Yes, I know that normal is whatever works for you and your significant other, but I like to find some benchmarks so to speak. I talked to someone who said she and her husband have sex three to five times a week. I was amazed at that! Then there are other couples who rarely sleep in the same bed. So based on those two extremes, I figure my sex life is probably pretty average.

 

But it’s more than needing to know that my sex life is normal. It’s also because I am constantly looking for ways to make mine better. Whether that means different ways for foreplay, new positions, or exciting locations (not that it’s feasible for me and Hubby to have sex anywhere other than our bedroom, but it’s the idea I guess), I’m constantly storing the information away for future reference. I mean, who doesn’t want to spice up their love life? No one wants their sex life to get boring or stale. So I think of it as researching. What can I do, or can we do together, to make things more exciting?

 

So I’m going to listen a little more carefully when someone is talking about sex. You never know when a great idea will fall into your lap!

Nonsensical Babble

So yeah. Wow.

 

My followers are dropping like flies. But that’s okay. My last few posts were pretty doom and gloom and who wants to sit and read that crap? Hell, I wouldn’t want to be around me either. It’s just my luck that I can’t get away from myself.

 

Anyway. I still have my faithful friends reading this, so I’ll continue with what I was originally planning. My brain isn’t really firing on all cylinders today, so I’ll just apologize in advance if this doesn’t make much sense. It’s not making a whole lot of sense in my brain yet either. We’ll just wade through this nonsense together, shall we?

 

Have any of you (you know, the ten people reading this) ever had a quote, whether it be from a book or a movie or maybe from another person, pop into your head and you just can’t place where it originated? Or worse yet, have something pop into your head that you can’t place but don’t even know why it showed up in the first place? Anyone, anyone? No? Okay, it must just be me then.

 

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That’s been my whole day today. The first instance does actually have a reason for being in my head, but I just can’t seem to figure out where it came from. I was washing my hands and looked at myself in the mirror. It wasn’t even a “I’m going to study myself in the mirror and notice every flaw and every attribute.” (Oh crap, am I the only one that does that too?!) No, this was just a “glance at my reflection for something to do while washing my hands” kind of look. I was wearing one of Hubby’s old sweatshirts and of course it’s much too big for me. And I noticed that because it made my shoulders look much broader and my arms look about twice as big as normal, it actually made me look like my head had shrunk. And I got the image from a movie of a guy that has his head shrunk on his shoulders. But I couldn’t figure out what movie. All. Day. I kept bringing the image into my mind and tried adding more detail to it to make it clearer. Tried to concentrate on the actor’s face to help me out. Tried adding dialogue that might clue me in. Finally, tonight, I came to the conclusion that I think it was from the movie “Beetlejuice”, but I’m still not 100% sure. Michael Keaton did get his head shrunk in “Beetlejuice”, didn’t he?

 

(Side question. Are movie titles underlined or in quotes? It’s so hard to remember all the grammatical rules even when I’m not feeling like only half of my brain is functioning.)

 

Then, again in the bathroom, (What? That’s about the only place where I get two minutes of absolute silence so it’s not unusual for my brain to run rampant then. Well, if I’m lucky and don’t have the three year old following me in. Or calling for me on the other side of the locked door. Yes, I lock myself in the bathroom. I’ll take peace and quiet any way I can get it.)

 

But, back to my story. I was in the bathroom and for no apparent reason, a line from a movie popped into my head. It was, “What with him being dead an’ all.” That was it and I can’t understand why that particular line decided to make an appearance. Again, I couldn’t remember where it had come from. I kept hearing it being said by Sandra Bullock (love her! fyi), but it wasn’t loud enough or clear enough for me to be sure. So, being the obsessive personality that I am, I ran it over and over in my head in hopes of placing the line. The best I can come up with is maybe “Practical Magic” but I can’t remember the context enough to be sure.

 

This shit happens to me all the time and I make myself nuts analyzing the where’s and why’s of it. I’ve woken up with songs in my head with no explanation why they’re there. Probably the weirdest one was one morning waking up with a Lady Gaga song, but I couldn’t tell you which one because I don’t listen to her music. Like. At. All. Not even a station that might play her music. I’m a country music girl all the way. (Well, with a lot of Tori Amos and a smattering of other non-country stuff from high school on my mp3 player.) The only reason I knew it was her was because it’s one of the songs from the X-Box Kinect game Dance Central. So maybe I was dreaming about the one night I played that game at my sister’s house. Who knows. Maybe it’s my subconscious trying to send me messages. Or maybe I’m farther off my rocker than I thought.

 

I seriously do wish I could come up with a reason for half the nonsense that rattles around inside my brain. But I honestly don’t think there is a rational explanation to be found.

Back To The Land Of The Living

I know I’ve been gone a long time and I owe all of you a very big apology for that. I am sorry I have left you wondering where I was or why I was gone. Things have been pretty rough in my world the last few weeks and I finally feel like they are improved enough to return to the blogging world. I’ve spent my time away hiding.

 

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Hiding from life because it’s sometimes too hard to face it.

 

I’ve been spending more and more time in my own fantasy worlds. In stories that are not my own. It’s easier there. I don’t have to look truth in the face and see what’s behind his eyes. I can get lost in my books and enjoy the lives of the characters. Or I can create my own worlds and control the lives of those living in it. That’s more fun. Things rarely go wrong there. My characters have successful careers, fall in love, get married, have kids and stay in love. They don’t have to suffer the heartache and worry of real life. They don’t have to struggle to get through the day. Or feel like they just want to hide under the covers. They don’t long for a hug just so they know the other person still loves them. They don’t have to worry that the other person will leave. They don’t have the weight of knowing it’s their flaws that are pushing the other person away. It’s perfect there. I don’t ever want to leave it. I don’t want to face reality. I don’t know what to do to make it better.

 

I actually wrote that three weeks ago when I was trying to cope with everything going on. Obviously, since it’s not getting posted until now, I wasn’t ready. I couldn’t bring myself to blog because that would require me to talk about things that were going on and I just couldn’t. I didn’t want to think about my life and how it had been turned inside out. Now that things have improved, I feel like I can do it now.

 

So here it is.

 

The Sunday before my daughter’s full week of spring break was not a great day and I don’t even remember exactly why I was in a bad mood. I didn’t think I was showing the full extent of my irritation, but apparently it was more than my husband could stand. That night after the kids were in bed he told me he didn’t know how much longer he would be able to take living with my mood swings. I was devastated. To know that the man that I never thought would stop loving me was thinking about leaving me was enough to break me. I knew that it must have been bothering him for a long time for him to finally say something. Because you don’t tell your wife that if things didn’t change, the marriage would be over after just one bad day. I spent a lot of time that week crying. Just thinking about it now is making me tear up. But finally I made myself stop crying and start trying to be more positive. Start trying to not get so upset over the things the kids would do that normally make me crazy. Things were okay. Then eight days after that dreadful night, I tried calling my husband while I was at Wal-Mart. (Not the best idea in the first place because trying to get a signal in that place is like trying to get milk from a rock.) It rang and rang and then was silent. Suddenly I heard a woman’s voice saying hello. My stomach dropped and I frantically tried to ask who she was. She said hello one or two more times and after hearing nothing for thirty seconds or so the call disconnected. With new worries about my marriage, I immediately called him back and got his voice mail. I left a message and he called back a short time later. We tried to talk about the previous phone call but since I was still in Wal-Mart, I told him we would talk about it later. I called him back after I had gotten home and my son was busy eating lunch and he said he didn’t really know why I heard a woman on the line other than maybe somehow my call had been picked up on another signal. He had the whole exchange on his voice mail (that I listened to after he got home) only it was just my voice. He thought she probably couldn’t hear me and since it was his number I was calling, only I came through on the voice mail. He assured me he had not and would not cheat on me. I believe him. There has never been any reason for me to think otherwise. We’ve talked about things and I feel like we’re back on a good path. I’m working on myself and trying to tone down my displeasure. (Although I really should just start taking Prozac or something and really turn myself around!) But I’m trying to let go of my anger and frustrations; trying not to hold it in to let it continue to bug me.

 

So that’s my big sob story. Additionally, I was trying to finish work for a client so they could get their taxes done. (I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it before, but I do bookkeeping for small businesses.) So now that I’m emotionally more stable, my work has slowed down and PTA is drawing to a close, I think I’m able to reenter the blogging world and spend time with those that I love here. I only hope you’ll have me back.

Confessional

I have a confession to make.

 

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I have an unhealthy relationship with food. I love food and I tell myself that food loves me too. When I’m feeling down (sad, lonely, angry, stressed, bored, whatever), I eat. And it’s not like I eat things that are good for me. You will not find me wrist deep in a bag of carrot sticks. No way. You’ll find me stuffing my face with comfort food. A.K.A. junk food. Brownies, chips (Cheetos especially), candy bars and whatever else I can dig up. They are like family to me. I can always count on them. I don’t know when this started or if it’s gotten worse the last few years, but this relationship has been one I have known about for quite some time now. I’ve just never really talked about it. Sometimes I feel better after I eat them. Sometimes I feel guilty. And sometimes, like now, I feel like I’ve eaten enough to feed an army. I’m uncomfortably full. Worse, I’m too full, feeling guilty, and still unhappy. They let me down. They weren’t there to make me feel better. Right now I don’t think they care more about me than any other person who eats them.

 

The reasons I’m upset don’t even matter. Part of it is just normal things that all parents have to deal with from time to time. The other half shouldn’t matter either. I keep telling myself that it’s okay. In the grand scheme of life, it doesn’t affect me at all. That I can’t have everyone like me. That I have plenty of people that do like me and they are the ones that matter. What’s ironic is I remember giving this very advice to a fellow blogger. That she shouldn’t let the people who don’t recognize her greatness get her down. That it’s their loss. Funny how the universe has a way of throwing that back in my face.

 

As a total shift in subject, the blog where I found this picture is actually pretty funny. It’s written by a nun and she’s got some spunk in that Catholic sort of way. Being a disenchanted ex-Catholic myself, I was surprised to find myself continuing to read her posts and even laughing now and again. But I guess being a nun doesn’t take away your sense of humor.

 

Remember when I talked about how the early dismissals at my daughter’s school would interfere with nap time? Yeah, it’s been fun around here. I’ve been pushing my son’s nap back until after we get her picked up and home. Unfortunately, he falls asleep on our way to the school and wakes up when I try to get him into his bed. And I haven’t been able to get him to go back to sleep. If I’m lucky, he’ll lay in bed for half and hour. So the time that I need to work on writing has turned into just enough time to start something and then turns into breaking up the verbal World War III. They don’t hit each other (usually) but bicker and argue until my three year old is crying and then my ten year old starts crying because she’s the one in trouble. You would think with that big of an age difference between them, they would get along and just play nicely. Only in my dreams does that happen. I can only imagine what the next six days are going to be like. I need to start planning plenty of activities to get them out of the house. Sigh. So if my posts don’t come out as regularly as they had been, or I don’t comment on your blogs as often, just think of me and send some patience and peace my way. I know I’m going to need it.

Spring Break For Kids?

This week starts the beginning of Spring Break for my daughter’s school district. It also just happens to correspond with the end of the trimester, meaning early dismissals and parent/teacher conferences. Translation? Hell for parents! For working parents it means figuring out childcare for the three days of early dismissal and the six weekdays (yes, I said six!) they are off for spring break. For stay-at-home parents like myself, it means listening to my kids bicker and fight for those six should-be school days. And an interrupted naptime schedule for the early dismissal days. (For my three year old. Not for me. Although a nap is sounding pretty good right about now.) I think I’d like to put in for a well deserved respite from my kids vacation. Too bad the odds of that happening are about as good as lightning striking a lotto jackpot winner.

 

But seriously, who came up with the idea that elementary kids needed spring break? When I was a kid, we got an Easter Break and that consisted of Good Friday and the Monday after Easter. That’s it folks. The rest of the time our sorry little butts were in our desks. Even in high school we didn’t get a spring break. Sure I would have liked the days off to just lay around and be lazy (or grab more hours at work when I was old enough to have a job), but it didn’t really matter all that much to me. I mean, it’s not like I had big plans to head down to Daytona Beach or Cancun or whatever other hot spot for spring break. Come on. It’s high school. We’re teenagers. Not college students.

 

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I guarantee when my kids are in high school, they are not going to be allowed on any spring break trips unless it’s a family one. (And it certainly won’t look like the picture!) There is no possible way I would ever allow that. I’ve heard too many tales, seen too many news stories, and watched too much MTV spring break specials to ever consider it.

 

And elementary? Really? What are they gonna do? Plan a trip to Chuck E. Cheese for five straight days?! Campout in the park? I haven’t heard of too many parents planning spring break vacations with their kids either. The whole thing is just craziness I think. Elementary kids, and even middle school and high school students do not need six days off for spring break. I hope the teachers do something really extravagant because from the way I see it, they’re the only ones who are coming out on top in this bargain.

 

Now just so you don’t think all I ever do is bitch (although I will admit I do it a lot. Ask my poor husband.), I’ll do something a la Paul and list three good things that happened yesterday.

 

1. I had an awesome sandwich for lunch yesterday and I’m having one again today. (Turkey on oat-nut bread with mayo, lettuce, and provolone cheese. So good!)
2. I got the majority of things done from my list. (Too bad some of the things like laundry and dishes keep multiplying and are never truly done.)
3. At my PTA meeting last night I got to jerk the chain of City PTA. (I take such joy from disagreeing with them, I think there must be something wrong with me.) A member had attended the last City PTA meeting where the officers for City were asking those who attended to go back to their individual units and get money to pay for the lunches at State Convention (which is being held in our town) of seven little old ladies that normally attend the Founder’s Day luncheon that was cancelled. I raised the question that since they have $200 in their budget to cover Founder’s Day and they’re not having it why do they need money from us? That made everyone pause and reconsider whether or not we really need to take money out of our budget to pay for something that isn’t our responsibility. The issue is tabled for now and it makes me happy. (I must have an evil streak in me.)

I Know I’ve Wasted Too Much Time When…

This is what I did this weekend.

 

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When I should have been doing this.

 

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So now I’m this.

 

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Okay, well maybe not quite as extreme as the last picture (and definitely not with beautifully applied make-up and perfectly styled hair.) But, I did spent too much time with my nose in a book this weekend and the rest of my time playing games online. The proof is all around me.

 

I have:

• a pile of dishes needing to be washed.
• laundry in various stages of completion in my bedroom and in the laundry area.
• reports to get done for a meeting tonight.
• more work than I even want to think about sitting in the office at school.
• deposits that need to get to the bank.
• a stack of newspapers that need to be sorted through.
• a growling stomach that is demanding to be fed. (My son’s is probably ready too!)

 

Because of all that, I am going to spend my day getting caught up around the house, but will catch up with you guys (and your blogs!) tomorrow.

 

I should have some real posts coming later this week. I started a couple over the weekend, but they need some polishing. I’ll also have to fill you in on my role-playing thing and the books that I finished last week. Good stuff.

Remembering My 21st

In honor of the day, I thought I would share the events of my 21st birthday.

 

My oldest sister and my sister-in-law were taking me out for a “night on the town” in celebration of my reaching the legal drinking age. (In reality they were just excited to get away from their kids for a night, as was I. Although they probably were excited for me too.) But the three of us were looking forward to having a girl’s night out and all bets were off. We had arranged for us all to meet at my brother and sister-in-law’s house where the kids and the men (my brother and my brother-in-law) were going to be staying while us ladies got our grooves on. We opened a bottle of champagne and toasted to a fun night out, then made sure the kids were starting to eat and doing okay before we set out for the night. My brother was our designated driver and he delivered us to our first stop for the night, a restaurant and bar that we all enjoyed. We were like three school girls being dropped off by a parent the way we giggled and rushed to get inside. Even the warning from my brother to behave ourselves was reminiscent of childhood.

 

We went inside and were seated and ordered our drinks. Beers all around! My sister-in-law, who worked part-time as a bartender at this bar, made sure our waitress knew that it was my birthday and that I got carded. Every. Time. They hooted and hollered because they thought it was the funniest thing ever to have happened. After our meals were eaten, a number of beers consumed and after we verified that the guy I was hoping to run into was at work and would not be coming in that night, it was decided we should move on to our next stop for the night. My brother was called and a short time later he was outside waiting for us.

 

I was already getting pretty buzzed so coming down the flight of stairs to get outside to the parking lot seemed to be very tricky. I went reeaally slooow and kept my hands on the wall on either side of me to help me reach the bottom. (Who puts an entire flight of stairs in a bar? Don’t they know someone could hurt themselves trying to reach the bottom after drinking?) Anyway, my brother was waiting and we all piled in. The plan was to go across the river and go to a cool, happening bar in the bigger town. (Which coincidently is the town I now live in.) Apparently my sister-in-law had been there at some point, while my sister and I had never been there. Or even heard of it. But we figured she was the expert since she lived in the area.

 

It was a bar on the fourth floor of a building and we had to ride an elevator to the top. For some reason that still doesn’t quite make sense to me, there was an elevator attendant for this building. Now, this is not a fancy town, and it definitely was not a fancy building. It was actually pretty crappy and run-down looking. But we didn’t question it and just continued acting like the silly women we were. We reach the floor and open the door to the bar. I was expecting a room full of twenty-somethings and cool music with lots of dancing going on. In actuality there were only about eight other people there and they were all like 40. (And I know 40 isn’t old, but when you’re expecting a hip young dance club, 40 is ancient.) Even worse, there was only one couple on the dance floor and they were both, well, huge. And they were grinding against each other like a floor-buffer on hard wood. Okaaay. Turns out the last time my sister-in-law had been there was roughly 10 years prior. We sat down at the bar and my sister starts badgering the bartender asking if he knew how to make cosmos. He says he does not. (Good rule of thumb, if the bartender doesn’t know how to make something, order something else.) She gives him a quick lesson in the art of cosmo mixing and he delivers our drinks. (More beers for me and my sister-in-law.) They tell him that it’s my birthday and that he should card me. He does (while my sisters shrieked and laughed like hyenas) and then gives me a free shot. I drink it not knowing what the hell it was. It must have been something girly because it tasted yummy. My sister says her cosmo isn’t as good as she’s had before, but she continues to suck it down. And then orders another. By now, she’s raring to go and she wants to dance. Like Really. Wants. To. Dance. Dancing was not high on my list of priorities because the placed sort of creeped me out. And the other couple were still on the dance floor. Finally I relent and we go shake it on the dance floor. I was so self-conscious because some of the few people in the bar stood along the edges watching us. Great. Not long later, we sit back down and order more drinks. This time my sister decides she can’t drink any more of the inadequate cosmos and orders beer. But then she wants to dance again. Worse than before. She grabs the back of my bar stool and starts jerking it back, trying to shake me loose from my seat I guess. Suddenly, there is a bouncer standing behind us and he tells her she needs to calm down or he’s going to kick her out. Oh my god, the humiliation. She stops yanking on my stool, but the bouncer doesn’t leave. He just stands behind me with his big arms crossed across his chest.

 

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I’m completely freaked out at this point and my sister-in-law and I decide now would be a good time to call my brother and have him pick us up. We finish our drinks and walk to the elevator. Once inside the elevator, my sister starts digging into her purse for money because she wants to tip the elevator attendant. My sister-in-law and I both keep shoving her money back into her purse and finally hold her hands so she’ll stop. We had to continuing telling her to keep her money in her purse. Over and over again. She’s totally hammered. We get outside and my brother is there waiting. We help my sister up into his truck and he starts laughing, telling her, “I thought we were going to have to help Hannah into the truck, not you!” We roll the windows down (even though it’s early March and cold) to make sure she doesn’t get sick in the truck.

 

We get home and my brother half lifts her out of the truck and practically carries her inside his house. Her husband is waiting inside and when he sees her, the only thing he can say is, “Oh boy. I thought it was Hannah.” (Why is it that everyone thinks I’m going to be the one who gets out of control and won’t know when to stop?! I was a responsible adult even at the age of 21!) He takes her down to the bathroom to change her clothes. My sister-in-law and I sit there for a minute or two. She says to me, “It’s not even midnight yet. Do you want to head to another bar?” Not ready to have the evening end, I say yes and we leave again.

 

It wasn’t nearly as much fun as when it was all three of us (partly because we kept thinking about how sick my sister probably was back at the house.) We only had one more drink each before coming back. The last thing I remember from that night was my sister sitting on the bathroom floor while her husband tried to prop her up. It was definitely not a night we care to remember, but one we’ll never forget. Oh my poor sister. It was not one of her finest moments. But I still love her.

If I Woke Up In A Psych Ward

I noticed this morning on Facebook that there’s one of those status games floating around. Normally I usually don’t pay attention to any of them. I rarely do the “re-post as your status” things because honestly, who cares? This one however, did catch my eye.

It said, “You and I wake up in a psychiatric ward together. Using 4 words, what would you say to me? NOTE: If you comment you must copy and past this to your status, so I may comment on yours as well.... Be a good sport and play along.... 4 words is harder then you think.”

I didn’t feel like commenting and re-posting, but I thought what an interesting thing to blog about! (And, really, isn’t it great when a blog topic just sort of falls into your lap?) The first thing I thought of when I read “wake up in a psych ward” was, “Some days I think I actually should be in a psych ward.” The second thing I thought was, (if I woke up in a psych ward I would say) “I like it here!” I mean, really. I’d be able to just relax and not have kids and all sorts of people nagging me and needing me (in a purely non-sexual way; I’m all for needing me sexually) and expecting the world from me. It would just be me. Maybe they’d let me have my books. My laptop? Probably not. Sure, there would be pesky doctors and nurses around, but think about the meds they could give me!

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To say that I’ve been stressed is putting it lightly. Aside from the kids and family, there are tons of things pulling me in all directions. I think the biggest one right now is PTA. I’ve been Treasurer of my daughter’s elementary school PTA for two and a half years. It’s gotten to the point where I don’t like it anymore. The work load is immense and every time I turn around there’s another meeting being scheduled that I have to attend. I just got an email yesterday from one of our presidents (whom I love dearly and enjoy spending time with) but she was setting up our next board meeting. I thought to myself, “Didn’t we just finish our last board meeting?!” Well, yes and no. It was in the middle of February when we had it. So yes, we did just have one, but no because it’s already been two and a half weeks. And there was a City PTA meeting that I should have gone to, but skipped because I have reached the point where I just don’t give a shit about what City PTA is doing. (Because we have multiple elementary, middle and high schools, there is a City PTA that brings all the units together. It’s total bullshit in my opinion.) And I have a meeting of the whole next week. It’s really good that I don’t have a job outside of the house. I cannot wait for July to come because then I will no longer be an officer. Or even a member of PTA anymore. I’ve had it! I’m throwing in the towel. I have come to the conclusion that all the effort I spend fighting City PTA isn’t going to change how they operate and I don’t want to waste my time and sanity on it any more. And because I don’t like the way they operate, but refuse to change, I refuse to give them any more of my money. I decided that I am no longer going to shell out my membership dues to a group that doesn’t manage it wisely. And you know what? I’m proud of myself for saying enough is enough. Maybe they won’t miss my contributions next year because my daughter will be at middle school and most of them won’t know me. But if they knew me from my time at the elementary school, they would miss what I could have done for them. (I know it sounds like I’m tooting my own horn, but I really have made a difference in the PTA I’m in now.)

I’m also stressing today because of this Facebook group that I joined. Here I was thinking I could take it slow and gradually work myself into it. Nope. They threw me right into the deep end! Although, it’s probably a small role that I’ll be performing, but I want it to be right and I don’t have much time to research it. So I’ve been scouring my books and the internet on how to draw out evil spirits from an object. I have searched and searched and am coming up pretty empty. So I think I’m just going to have to make it up. Cross your fingers for me. I know once I get a couple of these storylines under my belt, I’ll feel more comfortable, but right now I’m freaking out. And I know that it’s supposed to be fun, but I’m such a perfectionist. I can’t help going to the extreme to make things right. That may explain why I get so stressed out about things all the time.

But anyway, back to me waking up in a psych ward. What would I say? (There’s no way I can limit myself to four words. That’s just not gonna happen.)

“Is this where I sign up?”

“I’d like some of that too.”

“I’m claustrophobic. Can you take the straight jacket off? I’ll just sit here. I promise.”

“Shock therapy isn’t really my thing, but a massage would be great.”

Call It Tough Love

My 30th birthday is getting so close I can practically touch it and it’s been bothering me. I’m not ready to turn 30. It feels like I’m losing my youth. My opportunity to do those wild and crazy things that 20 somethings do. That later in life can be written off as “Oh well. I was twenty whatever and didn’t know any better.” Well, now I can’t use that excuse any more because I do know better. From the time I was 19, I knew better. Babies have a way of changing how you act.

 

I’ve already sort of talked about this here, so I won’t dwell on it.

 

But two weeks ago, I had a series of texts from one of my sisters that lead to a revelation for me. One that I should have had a long time ago.

 

A: You turn 30?

Me: yes

A: Oh yeah, you’re so old…ash turns 30 this year too. I turn 43. What are you complaining?

Me: I didn’t get to live my 20s!!! And now they’re gone.

A: Boo hoo. I actually accidentally spelled boob. *niece wants blood and carnage. (They were at a hockey game.)

Me: Why does she want blood & carnage. (Not connecting the conversation to the hockey game until later.)

A: I drank too much tequila.

Me: I can tell.

A: lol

 

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When the conversation was happening, I was a little pissed off that she was being so insensitive about my feelings. But then I realized she was right. (If you’re reading, gloat while you can. I may never admit it again! Haha) And I wonder if she would have said they same thing if she hadn’t been enjoying the tequila maybe a little too much. Knowing her, she probably would have. Because sometimes you need a dose of tough love to make you see things clearly.

 

Eventually I came to realize that life is full of choices. And those choices will forever change your life. But those choices brought me where I am today. I probably would never have met my husband if I hadn’t had my daughter. Which means I never would have found someone that I love so completely and who also loves me back! I never would have had my son. I never would have had a lot of things. And really, my life is pretty damn good. Naturally, there are bumps in the road, but nothing we haven’t been able to handle. And everyone has bumps along the way. I suppose that’s what gives you character. You fall down, get back up, and brush yourself off. And are better because of it.

 

Who knows what kind of person I would have been if I hadn’t been a mother at such an early age. The past is behind me. Now is the time to embrace where I am and look forward to the future.

 

Plus, hey, the bright side of turning 30 is that I get to join Studio30+, right?

I Think My Dog Is Plotting Against Me

I’m sure you’re asking yourselves, “why would he do that?” And I don’t really know the answer to that. He’s got a fabulous life now. I’m trade with him in a second. Bristol (yes, named after Bristol Motor Speedway) pretty much only eats and sleeps with the occasional five minutes of running around after a toy. (He’s not big on exercise.) But maybe it’s pay back for the days before my new fancy laptop when I would spend my son’s entire nap time on the computer and not on the couch with him. (He really likes laying next to people on the couch under a blanket. He gets cold easily.) Or maybe it’s for the nights when he was a puppy and I subscribed to the philosophy that dogs were not meant to sleep in bed with their owner, but in a crate in the kitchen. (He hogs the bed now.) Or maybe it’s because he hates going outside to do his “business” when it’s cold out. Whatever the reason, I’m convinced he’s out to get me.

 

 

“Now, what on Earth would give me that idea?” I can hear you muttering to yourselves. I know you think I’m crazy. Maybe so. But listen to the evidence before judging.

 

I like to have peace and quiet. Like 85% of the time. I’m not a rowdy person. (Usually.) I like quiet activities. If I had the entire house to myself for a whole day with no TV, phone, or radio, I would be perfectly happy. You won’t hear a complaint from me. How I’ll raise two kids to the age of 18 and get them moved out before I lose my sanity is sort of beyond me. But I digress. My dog, like I mentioned before, is a pretty inactive little guy. He’s perfect that way. But he also thinks he’s a big guard dog. (Aside from being part cat and half human, as my husband likes to say.) Part of being a guard dog in his expert opinion, is barking at every single noise he thinks he hears and every single motion he thinks he sees outside. I am fortunate to live sort of out in the country (even though it is a subdivision) and in an area that doesn’t get a lot of traffic driving by. I would without a doubt suffer from hysterics if I were in town. No matter how many times I’ve heard my dog bark, it still startles me every time he starts. And there are times when I can’t get him to stop, making my nerves buzz like a power line knocked down in a storm.

 

Have you ever read a book where one of the characters (usually it’s a maternal figure) is overwhelmed by her nerves and headaches and has to spend hours upon hours in her bed? Like Mrs. Bennett in Pride and Prejudice or Emily Tallis in Atonement? Sometimes I swear that is not a far stretch for me. If only I had servants that would take care of the children and running the household for me.

 

So imagine Mrs. Bennett with my dog barking at every little sound and every leaf that happens to blow by. That’s me.

 

And, even worse, my dog will do it when I’m sleeping. My bedroom is on the far side of our house which is situated unfortunately close to our next door neighbor’s garage. They have two dogs of their own and one of them is constantly barking. So there are nights when I’m trying to sleep and the neighbors put their dogs out (sometimes as late as 11 or 12 at night) before they go to bed. My dog will hear the other dog barking outside and lose his mind. He goes absolutely batty! I throw myself to the foot of the bed to make him stop, not only for my own sake, but so that he doesn’t wake up my son. (My daughter is old enough to go back to bed on her own without any help from me.) Repeat the exact situation but at 5:30 in the morning when the neighbors wake up and have to put their dogs out. If that isn’t a shock to the system that is probably whittling days off my life, I don’t know what is.

 

But, I can still hear you thinking, “Sounds like pretty typical dog behavior. I’m sure it’s nothing personal.” Possibly. But he plots against me in another way. And what’s worse, I think my son is in on it.

 

Let me explain the insanity of my house. Before my son was born, it was my husband, me, our daughter, and our dog. Bristol is a boy, but more than that, he’s a miniature dachshund. A.k.a weiner dog. So my husband and the dog formed what Hubby calls, “The Weiner Club.” (First rule of The Weiner Club is that there is no Weiner Club.) So when my son was born, he was allowed into the club based on the fact that he has, well, you know. A weiner. There are times when my husband will be sitting on the floor doing something with my son and Bristol will come over and join the group. And no joke, they sit at the three corners of a triangle. When my husband would see this happening, he would declare that a meeting of The Weiner Club was taking place. When I would notice what was happening, my husband would quickly disband the group and they would go their separate ways. This is just one example of the silliness that occurs in my house nearly every day.

 

But back to how Bristol is plotting against me. I said before that he doesn’t like to go outside to do his business because of the cold. On the really cold winter days, we will usually leave the garage door down so that he could do his stuff without having to actually go all the way outside. Now, it’s turning into a habit, even though it is starting to warm up outside. His favorite place to poop is directly underneath the driver’s door or the backseat door on the driver’s side. Now, most of the time, I notice it and remember that it’s there long enough to get it scooped up and thrown away before it causes problems. But there are days when I swear the dog has covert meetings with my son and they arrange for my son to thrown a major temper tantrum right as we’re getting ready to leave the house. When that happens I’m so preoccupied with pinning my son into the car seat that I forget about that nice little present Bristol has left for me. And as I step down out of the backseat onto the garage floor, I step right into it.

 

Today was the second time this winter it’s happened. Which I suppose isn’t terrible when you think of all the days winter has. But when it’s stuck to the bottom of your shoe, it’s pretty terrible.

 

Could my dog be plotting my mental demise? Maybe not, but you never know…

Just Call Me Selena (I Guess)

Well, okay, maybe not. I’m still Hannah. (In real life.)

 

But, I did it. I took the plunge. I am officially in a role-playing group on Facebook. It’s scary. Intimidating. My stomach starts to hurt when I’m about to post a comment. (I’ve talked about this group before.) But I decided what the hell? It really means a lot to my sister for some reason and she came up with a character that sort of fits me. Her name is Selena and she’s a human (my sister plays a demon) that owns a mystical/tarot card/fortune telling shop in New Orleans. I’m into that in real life so that helps. But now I really have to study up on my herbs and stones and incense because I don’t want to be inaccurate. Like I said in my previous post, the other people in the group know these characters better than I do and my limited knowledge of the mystical and magical will only get me so far.

 

So, I’m taking it slow. I did a little with my sister chatting with me telling me what to write. The next time, I didn’t need as much help from her, but she was on the chat with me to give me encouragement. But today, I think I’m going to try doing it by myself. I’m making cheat sheets of how people are related to me and what herbs and stones and oils are good for what. (I’m such a nerd that way. Research, research, research.) Luckily, I have plenty of books already that will help me and I’ve found some good websites too. I’d better get big time ‘sister points’ for doing this, because it’s outside my comfort zone. Totally.

 

I don’t know if it’s my impending birthday or if it’s you guys here and my blog or what exactly, but I feel like I need to keep pushing myself away from what’s comfortable. Constantly pushing and testing my limits. I can’t forever spend my whole life being a shy timid person. What kind of life is that? If I stay boxed into myself, I’ll end up as the little old lady that never leaves her house. And I don’t want to be that. I want to travel. I want to have fun! The last eleven years haven’t had enough fun in them and I plan on making up for that when my kids move away from home. So I have to start small now and keep stretching and molding myself into someone who doesn’t shy away from challenges and new experiences.

 

 

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It’s kind of like yoga. (Which today was my third class and it’s still nerve-racking, but I am really enjoying it. And someone actually talked to me today! Shocker!) Anyway, you start small and keep stretching yourself and eventually you are able to fully reach a position. Then you move on to a new position that tests you and you keep working at it until you’ve accomplished it. I really feel like I can do this. I’ve already started doing so many little things in my life that even a year ago I never would have done. I’ve started exercising (in public!), started this blog, posted comments to complete strangers and not worried what they thought about me. I’ve even stood up to people in meetings that don’t agree with what I’m saying and I didn’t back down. I didn’t get my way in the end, but at least I voiced my opinion instead of fell into line with everyone else.

 

I’m beginning to realize that I don’t have to be afraid. I’m don’t have to be ashamed. Everyone has made mistakes in their lives. Most people are not going to judge me on my mistakes. And those that choose to look only at my mistakes and not at how I changed and learned from them? Fuck ‘em. I don’t need them. I have plenty of people who love me for who I am today, not who I was 10, 15 years ago.

 

And if someone doesn’t agree with my ideas or choices, that’s okay. I don’t have to let it bother me. I don’t have to have everyone’s approval about everything. As long as the people I care about the most stand with me, I don’t give a shit what some stuck-up, stuffy, elitist bitch thinks.

 

I really had no intention of this becoming a self-affirmation post of any kind, but these things have a way of evolving all on their own. I feel good about myself today. I feel strong. I don’t know what it is. But I’m practically brimming right now.

I’m Having A WTF Moment

First of all, I have to apologize for my small hiatus from the blogging world. I’ve been trying to get used to my new laptop (and get all my software installed) while simultaneously trying to convince my three year old that Mommy’s laptop is not for him to poke at and push buttons and play with. Not an easy task. I’m back to only using it when he’s in bed. Maybe eventually he’ll let me type in peace. I’m also doing something I’ve never done before and that is try to write this while I’m drinking. So who knows if it’ll make sense in the end. Or if I’ll be able to put it out there without mistakes. But, here’s hoping.

 

I’m not completely caught up reading everyone’s blogs, but I’m working at it. Which leads me to my first WTF moment.

 

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What is the point of having “hidden blogs” if they still show up in your reading list? Or am I not doing something right? I can’t get to everyone’s blogs all the time, so I have a few that I put in a hidden list to get to when I have extra time.  I opened up my dashboard tonight planning on doing some reading (because if I’m being perfectly honest, I didn’t have the slightest clue what to write about.) And what’s the first post on my list? One from my hidden list! The whole point of putting them there was so I wouldn’t have to sort through the ones I want to read right away and the ones that can wait awhile. This is fucking up my system!

 

I’m also pissed off at Hubby. Now, I’ll be the first to admit that I am a bit of a firecracker. Or, as we call it in our house, a pistolie. (It started off as a pistol and evolved from there. My husband has a funny habit of putting his own spin on words. Christ, even when I’m pissed at him, I can’t help but talk about what I like about him!) But anyway, calling myself a firecracker is putting it nicely. I can be downright bitchy. So maybe I’m overreacting. Or maybe I just expect too much.

 

Last night I had a decent sized paragraph written about what happened, but the light of day has brought some reason and sanity back to me. I’m still pissed, but I’m not really a believer in airing dirty laundry and all that. I’ll just say that marriage is not always sunshine and roses, but sometimes it’s better to forget it and move on. Sometimes, it’s not worth arguing over. I know I’m right about the issue, but there is no convincing him that he’s wrong. So, I’m dropping it (although it would feel really good to hear him say he’s sorry and that he knows he did the wrong thing.) We’re both too damn stubborn though and I hate fighting fights I know I can’t win.

I Just Can’t Focus Today

This seems to be a common affliction today. This lack of focus. My brain just doesn’t seem up to the task of processing anything. I’d like to blame it on lack of sleep, but I know I’ve been getting more sleep than my poor friends Kat (who’s so very sick; go over to her blog and give her some love) and Jewels (who’s been battling her own bouts of insomnia), so it doesn’t really seem right that I complain. But I did have two thoughts that I wanted to throw out there. If for nothing else than to free up the brain power it’s taking to ponder these ideas.

 

My laptop is supposed to be delivered today and according to the tracking information, is on the truck for delivery. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if part of the tracking details gave you an up-to-the minute GPS location? It seems too hard to pull off (from a company’s perspective), but think about it this way. If each truck (or airplane) were equipped with GPS (which I imagine most of them are), then all it would require for this GPS tracking would be one extra scan. They scan the package when it comes and goes from their “terminals” so if they could scan the ID of each vehicle it was going on to, that information could go into the computer system and their websites could show the GPS location of the package. That way you could see how far away the truck is from your home and wouldn’t have to keep looking out your window every 15 minutes to see if you can see the truck coming around the corner. Not like I am, or anything…

 

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My other thought was this: When you see an actor in two different shows playing totally different characters, does it affect how you look at each character? There is an actor that has a small role on Sesame Street’s “Elmo’s World.” His name is Bill Irwin and he plays Mr. Noodle.

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Last year, he took a role on one of my favorite shows, “CSI.” He plays a psychopath serial killer, Nate Haskill. I’m not sure if the character by itself freaks me out or if I’m more freaked out by him because I’ve seen him play this other character. Whichever the case, he’s scary!

 

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The fact that he is also a trained clown may be the reason for my fear. He’s always sort of disturbed me on Sesame Street, too. (I hate clowns! Scary, scary, scary!)

To Me, Summer Is…

I heard a song on the radio yesterday that was meant to lift everyone’s spirits and get us thinking about summer. And since the ground that had almost shed all of it’s snowy blanket is now covered up again, I thought maybe if I started dreaming about summer, it would come that much faster. I started making a list in my head of all the things that said summer to me. (And here’s the song, in case you were curious.)

 

Kenny Chesney–Summertime courtesy of (C) 2005 BMG Music

 

When I think of summer, I think of:

• driving with the car windows down
• cruising around or long trips in the car
• baby calves
• green pastures
• the smell of fresh cut hay
• boat rides
• Mayfest
• grilling out
• ice cold beer
• fireworks
• smores
• camping out
• fireflies
• staying out all night

 

And before I leave you, I wanted to share another song (by a group I love) that gets my summer-dreaming heart thinking we’re that much closer. I think the video’s pretty fun too.

 

Rascal Flatts - Summer Nights courtesy of (C) 2009 Lyric Street Records, Inc.

 

What makes you think of summer?

Beware The Wrath Of The Female Pisces

Do you like to read your horoscope? Do you read it the day before? Do you read it the same day? Or are you like me and don’t read it until months after the day has passed? It’s nothing personal against horoscopes; I like reading what they have to say. And more often than not, it seems like useful advice. (Although, they seem to be getting more and more watered down. Kinda like the fortune inside fortune cookies. “You should be able to undertake and complete anything.” Kinda broad. Or maybe it’s just my luck that gets me vague fortunes.) Anyway, the reason I don’t read them the day before or the day it is supposed to apply to actually has nothing to do with the horoscope itself. It’s actually because I like to do the crossword puzzles that are on the same page in the newspaper and I refuse to look ahead for fear of seeing an answer to a puzzle I haven’t done yet. (I know, pretty weird, right?) Then to make matters worse, I don’t the crosswords every day so I have a huge stack of newspapers patiently waiting for my attention. But I like doing it my way better because I can still glean the information from my horoscope without stressing out about what it could be trying to tell me about my day. And like I said, it’s usually more advice that could apply any day.

One that I clipped out and keep in my jewelry box is one such example.

The roadblocks on the path to romance are not big problems. They’re more like a dozen daily habits that don’t exactly engender closeness or excitement. Seize playful moments and make the most of them.

See? Anyone can use and apply that to their lives. But then over the weekend, I read my horoscope from December 20. (I wasn’t kidding when I told you I had a serious backlog of newspapers.)

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Your sign can change moods as quickly as a chameleon changes colors. But today you’ll be in a state of mind that you want to hang on to for as long as possible. External circumstances cannot change this.

I read this to my husband and he gave me a look that said, “You’re telling me!” Apparently all Pisces have mercurial moods, but in my case, it is amplified by 1,000 when I’m PMSing. A week ago Saturday was one of those days and it was not fun for anyone in this house. I could feel my moods flying all over the place like a really bad rollercoaster ride. And I’m sure my husband wanted to scream, “I want off this ride! This is not what I paid for!” I was bouncing from being fine to pissed off to tears with no real warning as to when or how the next mood would strike. Then after my three year old had gone to bed, I showed a real lack of judgment by adding wine to the mix because, “I needed to relax.”

Normally when I drink, I’m a happy drunk. (Okay, a happy buzzer because I rarely ever get drunk anymore.) I laugh and talk and am generally cheerful. Probably obnoxiously so. You know the type. The one who won’t stop talking long enough to let anyone else get in a word. (I attribute that solely to my lack of conversation any other day of the week.) The one who finds everything super funny and is always laughing and playfully touching everyone. Yeah, that’s pretty much me. (I’m totally ruining my chances of anyone wanting to go have drinks with me now, aren’t I?)

But, as I have learned, a PMSing Pisces that drinks just three glasses of wine (that might have been a bit much), turns into the pathetic, crying drunk. It all started off good because I could feel myself starting to relax and I was chatting with my husband while we watched…(what did we watch? Some form of MMA I think, but now I’m not sure.) Well, whatever was on TV. Then I started telling him I was sorry for being so difficult during the day and that I thought I must be PMSing. I could feel the tears starting to well up and before I knew what happened, I was a blubbering mess. I could have been a walking commercial for why drinking is bad. Or Midol. (Although, I’m not sure if Midol does much to help the mood swings. Does anything?) My poor husband. What he doesn’t have to put up with. Thank goodness that time of the month only comes once a month. And that drinking is not something I often indulge in. And that I married a Scorpio who is somehow fated to put up with my shit.

(As as aside, I was looking at the characteristics of Pisces in that picture. I don’t think they apply during PMS.)

Just A Bunch Of Gobblety-Gook (Plus Yoga!)

I really didn’t know what to write about, so I’m just gonna start talking at random and see where it leads. Fortunately, I’m not on any cold meds right now, so my head is firmly attached to my neck and all body parts feel as they should. In other words, I don’t think there will be any fog-related, incoherent babble. Well, just based on what I’ve written so far, I could be wrong.

 

The first thing I wanted to mention was this really cool bookshelf that is down at the bottom of my blog. All the way down there. Coolest. Thing. Ever. (Thanks Chanel for letting me steal it from you.) I love putting all the books (that I could remember) that I’ve read in there and then ranking and reviewing them. Okay, well, I haven’t actually gotten around to reviewing them, but it’s in the plan to do so. Feel free to peruse my book shelf and see if there’s something there that might tickle your fancy. I’ve even included books that I haven’t liked so much just so I can keep track of how many I’ve read over the course of the year. Maybe you’ll like one that I didn’t. Never hurts to try.

 

Another thing is I have a poll that I started over the weekend. It’s mostly out of curiosity because I really have no intention of changing the way I do things. But I have been wondering how many people go back and read the comments that the blogger may have left for you or the comments that other people read. Sometimes I start asking questions in my replies to comments and I don’t know if you’ll ever see them or not. So, vote if you so choose and if you want to comment on the poll, please feel free. I’d like to think of my blog (as I’m sure many other bloggers do) as an open discussion where we can talk back and forth. It makes life more interesting, doesn’t it?

 

Today my daughter doesn’t has school because of President’s Day and it’s really thrown things out of whack for me. I’m such a creature of habit, any little deviation from my normal day makes me feel all discombobulated the rest of the day. Today also happened to be my first day of yoga class so that’s a whole new element of my daily schedule that I’ll have to get used to. So instead of trying to sleep in and be lazy on my daughter’s day off, I was up at my regular “school day” time and had myself and both kids ready and out the door at 8:30 so they could play at my mother-in-law’s house while I tried out this whole yoga thing.

 

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The class, honestly, went better than I expected. It was bigger than I hoped it would be, but like everything else I’ve experienced at the Y, I’m the youngest in the group by probably ten years, (although the majority of the class had a good 25-35 years on me.) But this time, it worked out in my favor because I’m still quite a bit more flexible than most of them. (Not all I don’t think because there are some freakishly in shape retired people there!) It was the start of a new session, but as the instructor didn’t recognize me, she came over and introduced herself and asked if I had taken any yoga classes before. I said no, but I had done it on the Wii. I laughed when I said it because I didn’t think it was going to make much of a difference, but it really did help. She told me that she would show certain modifications to some of the positions, and I could work at my own pace. But being the superstar that I am (just kidding, I’m actually nowhere close to superstar status,) I didn’t need to do any of the modifications to make it easier. Did I feel it? Oh yeah. Am I going to be sore? I think in some parts of my body I will be, but I really enjoyed it! Even the instructor after the class said I did really well (“I’m a natural” were her exact words) and that the Wii must have helped. (I don’t know why I giggle every time I talk about doing yoga on the Wii. It sounds so kidish. Oh well.)

 

After my class, I picked my kids up and at my husband’s recommendation, took them to McDonald’s for lunch. That was stupid on top of brain dead. With no school today, the place was packed and the play place was a nightmare come true. Kids were everywhere and adults were scarce. Even my kids were a bit taken aback by the commotion (ah, I’m raising them well) and didn’t feel like staying long. My daughter (much to my amazement) patiently helped her brother through the tunnels and showed him where I was sitting and watching, so they could wave. He was pretty scared so they only went through the thing a handful of times because he was going so…slow…But she was good and only left him sit once while she crawled up and around calling for him to follow her. But I watched in horror as big kids chased little kids trying to scare them and one big sister kept picking up her very small (maybe two year old) sister by the wrists and standing her on one of the play tables, then telling her to jump from the table to the stool to the floor. Um, hello, can we get a parental figure over here please?! We’ve got a big sister trying to maim little sister! (Parents/caregivers should come up with a code system like cops or doctors for situations like that. “We’ve got a 10-16 in progress! Requesting parental authority immediately!” Just a thought.) Maybe I should have been the one to step in and stop it, but frankly, I’ve seen it enough times where a parent goes ape shit on another parent for trying to tell their kids what to do and I just wasn’t prepared to deal with that. If we would have been at the school, yes, I would have been more comfortable stopping the behavior. But McDonald’s? Nope. Sorry. Maybe that makes me less of a good person, but that’s me.

 

That was when I decided it was time to go home (the kids had had enough trying to compete for tunnel space anyway) so I could get my little guy down for his nap and laundry started. It’s way late to be starting laundry (did I mention my whole day goes to shit when my schedule is messed up?), but I’m trying to get through it.

 

Oh yeah, a piece of good news. Remember when I talked about my son always wanting to be on the computer any time I would try to sit down at it? My husband and I ordered a laptop for me over the weekend and I should have it by the end of the week! Do you hear angels singing? Cause I do! I’m so excited because now I’ll be able to relax on the couch and write whatever, any time I get the words flowing in my brain! It’ll be great! No more having to pick between watching TV with Hubby or working on the computer. I’ll be able to do both! And in situation like now, where the neighbor comes over, rings the doorbell to ask if my daughter can come over to play and it wakes up my sleeping son. Goddamn it! Okay, deep breaths. Deep breaths.