Today I had someone ask me if Jacob is going to be in kindergarten next year, and after I said yes she asked with a hint malice," Well, what are you going to do with yourself then?"
You see, I am a stay at home mom. Not because I believe I am better than anyone else, or find that though we have sacrificed greatly for me to stay at home with our babies that my sacrifices are greater than those of anyone else. I simply did what I thought was best for MY kids.
So many things ran through my mind in a matter of seconds. I want to snap back that I would probably CONTINUE to do the thousands of things I do every day, you know like laundry, cooking and general cleaning up for 4 other people. I would continue with the tedium of clipping coupons to scrimp since we are on one income, shopping for the best deals and sales to stretch our income, agonizing over bills and sticking to a budget to buy those groceries, spend bits and pieces of time with my kids, fretting over my jewelry business and struggling to make time for it... day dreaming about creating something with my hands like painting or drawing.
On top of all of those things struggling to get out of bed in the morning because of unbreakable cycle of insomnia... which makes my debilitating fibromyalgia pain and chronic fatigue syndrome much worse. Developing a new heart problem which contributes to the fatigue. Grappling with system crippling allergies that keep me locked inside on the most beautiful of days, and knowing that because of all of these illnesses that I can no longer work and contribute to supporting my family causing depression and anxiety. Knowing that if a dear friend of mine with most of the same illness as me (only worse) is having a hard time getting disability so my chances are very slim... hating that I once was a nurse but can no longer do the job I loved even if I really wanted to and that this was NOT how I planned the last half of my life going...
In mere moments I was knocked down and belittled, angry and confused as to why this person that I haven't seen in almost 6 months would want to verbally snipe me... if only she knew, CARED to retain or bothered to read my status updates, (though I guess honestly despite all this I try not complain on Facebook much because who wants to read that?).
I have been working in some capacity since I was 10 (family business, paper routes, ice cream stands, groceries stores all before I was 18), I have paid my dues as a productive member of society until 14 years ago when I became a stay at home mom. I don't deserve the implications that I sit on my ass all day eating fritos and watching soap operas.
I wanted to respond in kind, I wanted to hurt her back but as unhappy as I felt at that moment and have been feeling for over a year I realized she was probably so much more unhappy than me for wanting to make me feel less than for staying home with my kids at first by choice... and then later out of necessity for health reasons.
I did not glean an ounce of joy from realizing that she was more than likely jealous of the lifestyle she THOUGHT I was living. It didn't make me feel superior that she was most likely very unhappy.
I don't need to match someone else's guidelines or validate my choices... and I certainly do not matter less because I do not or can not hold a job outside of the home. Despite all my unhappiness and longings I still would have left a very lucrative job as a licensed practical nurse in California 14 years ago to move back to John's hometown in Iowa to stay at home to raise Anna myself. I matter, I have and will continue to make a difference if only for my family.
In those moments that probably only took up 30 seconds I replied with a slight smile, in a soft voice, "Yeah, who knows." I let it go.
Long story short (TL;DR) , not every circumstance is an opportunity to level the playing field. Sometimes we need to show a little kindness and walk in someone else's shoes. And sometimes the kindest thing we can do is keep our mouths shut. I really wish for a time when women lift and support one another instead of "sweeping the legs" out from under them Karate Kid style, for very personal choices and very valid reasons that are diminished to presumptions. I hope we can be kinder to each other as humans as a whole because we really never know what is going on behind closed doors and closed hearts.
Showing posts with label the circus that is me. Show all posts
Showing posts with label the circus that is me. Show all posts
Saturday, May 02, 2015
Thursday, February 07, 2013
12
My baby is going to be 12 in 21 days. TWELVE.
My oldest child... the beginning of something truly beautiful, a new phase of my life that I thought I would never be lucky enough to experience.
It's been gritty and tortuous being a parent, and at other times soulful and stomach-hugging hilarious.
Today, I realized that my oldest child is so much like me, so much more than I had ever realized. I mean, I had always thought she looked a little more like me and we share a eerily similar sense of humor. We inflect on words the same, and our laughs can be the same growly, bark of a laugh or nearly the same hysterical howl. We share almost the exact same nose, and we both feel the same dread over the size.
But beyond all of that, while we talked about friendships, I could see the person she is becoming. At some point we were both exasperated and my eyes were opened, as I forced myself to listen more instead pontificating aloud, sharing my "refined" wisdom as an adult.
As I admitted to her that I didn't know everything I saw something click in my daughter, as if those were the words she had been longing me to say since her existence.
I stopped for a moment and told her that all I ever want for her in life is to do good, and not make the same mistakes I did. My words are meant as a cautionary tale, never judgement. I want to give my kids all the things my mother didn't like sound advice and a bent ear... understanding.
We had an honest talk about a friendship she has that has turned sour, and this person is no longer viewed through rose colored glasses and Anna is finally seeing her for who she really is: a mean spirited brat who enjoys humiliating and bullying others. Now that Anna has rekindled a friendship from grade school- who this mean little bully does not like- now the bully has caught my daughter in her icy glare. Anna has now been bullied.
Don't weep for my child, make no mistake... my daughter is strong in will and most of the time character. I am proud of her for standing up to this miserable little person, and for standing her ground.
She is a bit hard headed like her dad's side of the family, and she can be a little tender under her hard shell... both of which she gets from me I think. It hurts me to see her frustration (and hurt, though she refuses to admit it), but I laid out the options/choices ahead of her in this situation.
1. The obvious backstabbing and dirtying of the name of said person, justified by tales of all the ways this person has hurt her... which NEVER ends well and ALWAYS backfires.
2. Stay neutral and continue to defend herself while faking her way through this botched "friendship".
3. MOVE ON. Leave it all behind and enjoy those people who really truly are her friends.
She did say midway through our talk that she had just had the realization, "Why am I bothering to be friends with her?"
So if nothing hopefully she now understands that confiding in her mom can be cathartic and therapeutic, and that I am an ally and not the enemy.
And maybe, just maybe she realizes that I do pretty much know what I am talking about. Most of the time.
Usually.
I learned today that it's not such a bad thing that we are so much alike.
I hope that one day she realizes it too.
Peace,
Mary
My oldest child... the beginning of something truly beautiful, a new phase of my life that I thought I would never be lucky enough to experience.
It's been gritty and tortuous being a parent, and at other times soulful and stomach-hugging hilarious.
Today, I realized that my oldest child is so much like me, so much more than I had ever realized. I mean, I had always thought she looked a little more like me and we share a eerily similar sense of humor. We inflect on words the same, and our laughs can be the same growly, bark of a laugh or nearly the same hysterical howl. We share almost the exact same nose, and we both feel the same dread over the size.
But beyond all of that, while we talked about friendships, I could see the person she is becoming. At some point we were both exasperated and my eyes were opened, as I forced myself to listen more instead pontificating aloud, sharing my "refined" wisdom as an adult.
As I admitted to her that I didn't know everything I saw something click in my daughter, as if those were the words she had been longing me to say since her existence.
I stopped for a moment and told her that all I ever want for her in life is to do good, and not make the same mistakes I did. My words are meant as a cautionary tale, never judgement. I want to give my kids all the things my mother didn't like sound advice and a bent ear... understanding.
We had an honest talk about a friendship she has that has turned sour, and this person is no longer viewed through rose colored glasses and Anna is finally seeing her for who she really is: a mean spirited brat who enjoys humiliating and bullying others. Now that Anna has rekindled a friendship from grade school- who this mean little bully does not like- now the bully has caught my daughter in her icy glare. Anna has now been bullied.
Don't weep for my child, make no mistake... my daughter is strong in will and most of the time character. I am proud of her for standing up to this miserable little person, and for standing her ground.
She is a bit hard headed like her dad's side of the family, and she can be a little tender under her hard shell... both of which she gets from me I think. It hurts me to see her frustration (and hurt, though she refuses to admit it), but I laid out the options/choices ahead of her in this situation.
1. The obvious backstabbing and dirtying of the name of said person, justified by tales of all the ways this person has hurt her... which NEVER ends well and ALWAYS backfires.
2. Stay neutral and continue to defend herself while faking her way through this botched "friendship".
3. MOVE ON. Leave it all behind and enjoy those people who really truly are her friends.
She did say midway through our talk that she had just had the realization, "Why am I bothering to be friends with her?"
So if nothing hopefully she now understands that confiding in her mom can be cathartic and therapeutic, and that I am an ally and not the enemy.
And maybe, just maybe she realizes that I do pretty much know what I am talking about. Most of the time.
Usually.
I learned today that it's not such a bad thing that we are so much alike.
I hope that one day she realizes it too.
Peace,
Mary
Monday, July 18, 2011
Jacobs First Birthday OR I forgot how hectic birthday parties can be
Ahhhh another birthday, and being a birthday veteran I did what I normally would do, preparing as much as possible the day before. This time around I did things a little differently... I chided myself for not thinking of this sooner: Why not put up birthday decorations a day early and save myself the stress! Just like realizing that I could mash up a hot dog with a garlic press 10+ years after my first child... seriously? How did this not dawn on me?
I congratulated myself for being so ready this year. I envisioned myself relaxing on my couch just waiting for guests to arrive. HA! Again, how is it that after 41 years I still have not learned that "Pride goeth before the fall..." (thus sayeth the Lord, Amen)
At 1140 am I started grilling hamburgers 10 minutes late, but the party was at noon so everything is ok. At 1143 it started to rain on me. Normally I would take this as a bad sign, but I was too busy making sure I didn't burn the main course. At 1146 I again congratulated myself for producing 10 juicy-ever so slightly charred in just the right places- hamburgers while walking up my not exactly clean back stairs to go inside... and promptly lost my grip on the container from greasy fingers and rain. Ummhmmm. Yup. I dropped ALL of the precious meaty cargo on the stairs, a few bouncing off into the grass.
"*(&%#$@)*!" I gathered up the damaged goods and tossed them and started round two. Whilst inside talking to an early guest and glancing frantically at the clock- not realizing that the grease from round one was flaming like a set of space shuttle thrusters, therefore increasing the core temperature of the grill to 600 degrees- I finally whispered agitated apologies while leaving them mid-sentence to find round 2 almost completely destroyed.
I stared sadly at their charred remains and whispered a silent curse laden prayer to the grill gods that I have something to feed the masses. I broke off the scorched edges of 2 of the only edible burgers and threw the other 6 away. I threw the rest of the burgers from the big frozen box o'meat on the grill and eyed the grill angrily, thinking of our other grilling tussles. This would not be my first go-round with the flaming metal beast.
Success!!! I managed the hot dogs, got annoyed that the MIL elbowed her way through guests to feed herself before almost everyone else, we all ate... Jacob opened presents and had a blast!!! He got bored opening like most kids do, and had fun playing with his new presents. I decided to leave the rest of the presents for the next day, they were all from us anyway.
Then I served cake...
and once again the kids hadn't even been served yet and the MIL came in hovering over the cake, insisting to get her piece next- with a smile of course. Then told me she wanted to take cake home while pointing to the heavily frosted grassy area of the cake and TOLD me she wanted that section. I did what any self-respecting DIL would do. I got annoyed and "PFFFFT'd" to her face and made her scoop ice cream.
While this was happening, I completely forgot that Jacob had been served a small piece. John took pics of him sampling it- taking dainty and controlled finger fulls, then took pics of the guests... mean while NEITHER of his brilliant parents watched, or his grandma standing right in front of him scooping ice cream watched- while he proceeded to jam almost the whole piece in his mouth, eyes bulging, giving a cough.
Thank goodness Cousin Candice Thomson was watching and her mommy instincts kicked in... she ran over and scooped cake from his mouth with a hooked finger. I heard him cry and ran over to break him free of his high chair. *PHEW-sigh* I thoughttwo three things:
1.Thank the Lord for fellow mommies.
2.I'm a horrible parent and and my husband is an idiot.
3. Vice versa.
The rest of the party went great, he had a wonderful time playing with his presents- most of it with his mouth open LOL!
Cleaning up the kitchen so we could go to the city pool next, I dropped a bottle of Southwest Spicey Mustard which did a lovely swan dive, then bounced doing a triple axle, then exploded all over my leg/foot/flip flop and the cake box. Heh heh heh heh. All I could do was giggle. My friend Michelle giggled with me after I told her all that had happened, and kindly rinsed my flip flop in the sink for me while telling me she and her BF would have just rinsed them off and served them.
We went to the pool at about 3pm, Jacob disliked the pool very much and protested quite loudly, while Emma (who cannot swim) decided it would absolutely be the best thing to walk off the second I take my eyes off of her and walk to where her dad was at the diving boards, where I couldn't see her because of a slide encasement right next to me. Literally POOF, gone. I freaked out screaming for her, which was pointless because of the natural din that goes with being at a pool, and asked Anna to look for her. I scanned the pool for her/her swim suit and looked over to the diving pool.
I stopped midway with Jacob in my arms and had a nervous break down for a 1/2 minute, sobbing because my worst fear was coming true- losing my kids... I snapped out of it knowing that standing there sobbing like an idiot was taking away precious searching/rescue time.
I prayed. I pleaded with God in the briefest, most sincere prayer I had ever uttered. "Please God, keep her safe."
I looked back over to the diving pool, and there stood the rest of my family. There stood my middle child, completely unaware of what was happening... standing with her sister (who turned to look back at me, smiling weakly, wincing almost as if she knew what was coming next) and her dad, who was waiting in line for the board.
"You need to hold him RIGHT NOW," I screamed at John.
I grabbed Emma by the arm and screamed at that child... YES, I was THAT lady. At the pool. Screaming at the top of my lungs, "Don't you EVER walk away from me again without telling me where you are going. DON'T EVER do THAT to me AGAIN!!!"
I proceeded to try to calm myself and tell her exactly what I had thought had possibly happened: her being at the bottom of a pool or having been snatched from the pool. We both cried, and I let my anger go. I hugged her, clung to her while she stood there helpless to do otherwise, the both of us crying. I repeated, "IloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyou, please don't do that again. Ever."
We walked over to the newer kids part of the pool that had fountains and various spraying/splashing apparati for a few minutes, Jacob protested loudly again. Emma promised to stay with Anna and our cousin Melinda... then Jacob and I went over to the shaded snack bar and he fell asleep on me while I watched my girls like a hawk in the play area. Everyone had a great time, I enjoyed the peace and calm of holding my one year old while the noises of the pool lulled him, remembering how a year ago that day I was doing the very same thing- holding my sleeping baby after an exhausting day.
Lesson learned finally. You can never be completely 100% prepared for life... or birthday parties. OR MIL's.
Amen.
I congratulated myself for being so ready this year. I envisioned myself relaxing on my couch just waiting for guests to arrive. HA! Again, how is it that after 41 years I still have not learned that "Pride goeth before the fall..." (thus sayeth the Lord, Amen)
At 1140 am I started grilling hamburgers 10 minutes late, but the party was at noon so everything is ok. At 1143 it started to rain on me. Normally I would take this as a bad sign, but I was too busy making sure I didn't burn the main course. At 1146 I again congratulated myself for producing 10 juicy-ever so slightly charred in just the right places- hamburgers while walking up my not exactly clean back stairs to go inside... and promptly lost my grip on the container from greasy fingers and rain. Ummhmmm. Yup. I dropped ALL of the precious meaty cargo on the stairs, a few bouncing off into the grass.
"*(&%#$@)*!" I gathered up the damaged goods and tossed them and started round two. Whilst inside talking to an early guest and glancing frantically at the clock- not realizing that the grease from round one was flaming like a set of space shuttle thrusters, therefore increasing the core temperature of the grill to 600 degrees- I finally whispered agitated apologies while leaving them mid-sentence to find round 2 almost completely destroyed.
I stared sadly at their charred remains and whispered a silent curse laden prayer to the grill gods that I have something to feed the masses. I broke off the scorched edges of 2 of the only edible burgers and threw the other 6 away. I threw the rest of the burgers from the big frozen box o'meat on the grill and eyed the grill angrily, thinking of our other grilling tussles. This would not be my first go-round with the flaming metal beast.
Success!!! I managed the hot dogs, got annoyed that the MIL elbowed her way through guests to feed herself before almost everyone else, we all ate... Jacob opened presents and had a blast!!! He got bored opening like most kids do, and had fun playing with his new presents. I decided to leave the rest of the presents for the next day, they were all from us anyway.
Then I served cake...
and once again the kids hadn't even been served yet and the MIL came in hovering over the cake, insisting to get her piece next- with a smile of course. Then told me she wanted to take cake home while pointing to the heavily frosted grassy area of the cake and TOLD me she wanted that section. I did what any self-respecting DIL would do. I got annoyed and "PFFFFT'd" to her face and made her scoop ice cream.
While this was happening, I completely forgot that Jacob had been served a small piece. John took pics of him sampling it- taking dainty and controlled finger fulls, then took pics of the guests... mean while NEITHER of his brilliant parents watched, or his grandma standing right in front of him scooping ice cream watched- while he proceeded to jam almost the whole piece in his mouth, eyes bulging, giving a cough.
Thank goodness Cousin Candice Thomson was watching and her mommy instincts kicked in... she ran over and scooped cake from his mouth with a hooked finger. I heard him cry and ran over to break him free of his high chair. *PHEW-sigh* I thought
1.Thank the Lord for fellow mommies.
2.I'm a horrible parent and and my husband is an idiot.
3. Vice versa.
The rest of the party went great, he had a wonderful time playing with his presents- most of it with his mouth open LOL!
Cleaning up the kitchen so we could go to the city pool next, I dropped a bottle of Southwest Spicey Mustard which did a lovely swan dive, then bounced doing a triple axle, then exploded all over my leg/foot/flip flop and the cake box. Heh heh heh heh. All I could do was giggle. My friend Michelle giggled with me after I told her all that had happened, and kindly rinsed my flip flop in the sink for me while telling me she and her BF would have just rinsed them off and served them.
We went to the pool at about 3pm, Jacob disliked the pool very much and protested quite loudly, while Emma (who cannot swim) decided it would absolutely be the best thing to walk off the second I take my eyes off of her and walk to where her dad was at the diving boards, where I couldn't see her because of a slide encasement right next to me. Literally POOF, gone. I freaked out screaming for her, which was pointless because of the natural din that goes with being at a pool, and asked Anna to look for her. I scanned the pool for her/her swim suit and looked over to the diving pool.
I stopped midway with Jacob in my arms and had a nervous break down for a 1/2 minute, sobbing because my worst fear was coming true- losing my kids... I snapped out of it knowing that standing there sobbing like an idiot was taking away precious searching/rescue time.
I prayed. I pleaded with God in the briefest, most sincere prayer I had ever uttered. "Please God, keep her safe."
I looked back over to the diving pool, and there stood the rest of my family. There stood my middle child, completely unaware of what was happening... standing with her sister (who turned to look back at me, smiling weakly, wincing almost as if she knew what was coming next) and her dad, who was waiting in line for the board.
"You need to hold him RIGHT NOW," I screamed at John.
I grabbed Emma by the arm and screamed at that child... YES, I was THAT lady. At the pool. Screaming at the top of my lungs, "Don't you EVER walk away from me again without telling me where you are going. DON'T EVER do THAT to me AGAIN!!!"
I proceeded to try to calm myself and tell her exactly what I had thought had possibly happened: her being at the bottom of a pool or having been snatched from the pool. We both cried, and I let my anger go. I hugged her, clung to her while she stood there helpless to do otherwise, the both of us crying. I repeated, "IloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyou, please don't do that again. Ever."
We walked over to the newer kids part of the pool that had fountains and various spraying/splashing apparati for a few minutes, Jacob protested loudly again. Emma promised to stay with Anna and our cousin Melinda... then Jacob and I went over to the shaded snack bar and he fell asleep on me while I watched my girls like a hawk in the play area. Everyone had a great time, I enjoyed the peace and calm of holding my one year old while the noises of the pool lulled him, remembering how a year ago that day I was doing the very same thing- holding my sleeping baby after an exhausting day.
Lesson learned finally. You can never be completely 100% prepared for life... or birthday parties. OR MIL's.
Amen.
*passed out after the pool*
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Belly belly!!!
Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy... I am huge!!! These were taken yesterday :)
4 1/2 months or 21 weeks. I don't even want to think about how big I will be at the end. *SIGH* The good news is that I am off work now because I have been having very intense Braxton-Hicks contractions (which started at 2 1/2 months!!!) that sometimes lead to actual cramping. Sometimes I can be on my feet for an hour, and sometimes only 5-10 mins before I start having them again. We will miss the extra income but let's face it... I worked at Target on the sales floor. It's not like I was making bank.Anywho, I ordered a crib in ebony to match the wood finish in my bedroom since Baby Jacob will be sharing a room with mom and dad for the first year, It only cost me just over 200.00 with free shipping, woot!!!
And this crib set, which I love!!! It's been really fun shopping for boy stuff so far :D
Since we gave everything away, John's coworker (who has twin boys) will be generously giving us 2 infant car seats with bases and lots of baby clothes... which I am very excited about! Chances are anything we did have would have been recalled or too old anyway since Anna just turned 9.
I am getting more and more used to the idea, since he lets me know he's in there quite frequently with lots of kicks and bumps. I do love him already, how could I not?
The best thing? Emma and Anna gave me hugs goodnight last night, then rubbed the belly and said, "Goodnight, Jacob." So sweet!
Since we gave everything away, John's coworker (who has twin boys) will be generously giving us 2 infant car seats with bases and lots of baby clothes... which I am very excited about! Chances are anything we did have would have been recalled or too old anyway since Anna just turned 9.I am getting more and more used to the idea, since he lets me know he's in there quite frequently with lots of kicks and bumps. I do love him already, how could I not?
The best thing? Emma and Anna gave me hugs goodnight last night, then rubbed the belly and said, "Goodnight, Jacob." So sweet!
Friday, January 08, 2010
If I had a nickel...
I was at work last week telling one of my fabulous coworkers about what my girls have been up to- which, yes, would be trouble...thank you for asking- and she said, "Oh my God Mary, and you're having another one? You are so screwed."
After laughing for about 2 minutes , utterly and completely without rancor and irony, I wiped the tears from my eyes and simply replied, "Yes, oh God yes, this I know."
I am hoping for a Christ-like child if you want to know. Not that my girls aren't fun and entertaining but I have on occasion looked intently at their scalps to have the MISU ask what I was doing. I would reply with a saintly smile that I was looking for the "the mark of the beast", or the evil triple digit.
I would love it if God would somehow deem it necessary and right for me to have a child full of sweetness and light... and to be nothing like me. I already have 2 of those. I had thought for sure He had broken the mold, burned it, and then scattered the ashes to all corners of this little rock we live on. It's a nice thought anyway.
And if I cannot have a Christ-like child, dear Lord, if you should see fit to go with my alternate option... Please make my baby (if it's a boy) in Guy Fieri's image. You know... light hearted, easy going and later in life not ashamed to feed his momma. I'm just saying.
To be sure, I will say again that I have no one else to blame. I wouldn't say I would change my girls per se, just maybe "take a little off the sides". But they are who they are and I love them despite my ability to see in them at times all the little things that irk me about myself LOL! Yes, I have taught them well. ;)
After laughing for about 2 minutes , utterly and completely without rancor and irony, I wiped the tears from my eyes and simply replied, "Yes, oh God yes, this I know."
I am hoping for a Christ-like child if you want to know. Not that my girls aren't fun and entertaining but I have on occasion looked intently at their scalps to have the MISU ask what I was doing. I would reply with a saintly smile that I was looking for the "the mark of the beast", or the evil triple digit.
I would love it if God would somehow deem it necessary and right for me to have a child full of sweetness and light... and to be nothing like me. I already have 2 of those. I had thought for sure He had broken the mold, burned it, and then scattered the ashes to all corners of this little rock we live on. It's a nice thought anyway.
And if I cannot have a Christ-like child, dear Lord, if you should see fit to go with my alternate option... Please make my baby (if it's a boy) in Guy Fieri's image. You know... light hearted, easy going and later in life not ashamed to feed his momma. I'm just saying.
To be sure, I will say again that I have no one else to blame. I wouldn't say I would change my girls per se, just maybe "take a little off the sides". But they are who they are and I love them despite my ability to see in them at times all the little things that irk me about myself LOL! Yes, I have taught them well. ;)
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Sooo, guess what?
Long time huh? I haven't updated in 9 months and I doubt anyone reads anymore anyway, but... John and I have decided to give it another go, and have been working on things since about August.
Anyway, guess who suspected she was preggers, decided she couldn't wait to get home to take a test so made a trip to the bathroom while shopping at Wally World for Thanksgiving dinner? And guess who-after having a mini nervous breakdown in said bathroom- left her cart, stumbled dazed and confused out of the store without purchasing the pregnancy test?
Yup, I am one classy b*tch, yo. Par for the course.
I will be 8 weeks next Tuesday. I had my first ultrasound this last Tuesday to make sure it was not ectopic. So far so good, saw the heart beat, the girls are very excited. A bit more excited than mom and dad at the moment, but I know we will get there.
I am constantly, and quite cheerfully reminded by a coworker of how lucky we are considering we were infertile the first 10 years of marriage, that we should be ecstatic.. I just smile and nod, while imagining myself barfing on her shoes. Then calling for a clean up on aisle 3 :)
So, we are starting from scratch since we gave away all of our baby stuff... not that some of it would be usable anyway, most of it would be 8 yrs old. We have to add a room in our walk up attic, buy a bigger car.
And plan the MISU's vasectomy ASAHP.
Hmm, Christmas is just around the corner. ;)
Anyway, guess who suspected she was preggers, decided she couldn't wait to get home to take a test so made a trip to the bathroom while shopping at Wally World for Thanksgiving dinner? And guess who-after having a mini nervous breakdown in said bathroom- left her cart, stumbled dazed and confused out of the store without purchasing the pregnancy test?
Yup, I am one classy b*tch, yo. Par for the course.
I will be 8 weeks next Tuesday. I had my first ultrasound this last Tuesday to make sure it was not ectopic. So far so good, saw the heart beat, the girls are very excited. A bit more excited than mom and dad at the moment, but I know we will get there.
I am constantly, and quite cheerfully reminded by a coworker of how lucky we are considering we were infertile the first 10 years of marriage, that we should be ecstatic.. I just smile and nod, while imagining myself barfing on her shoes. Then calling for a clean up on aisle 3 :)
So, we are starting from scratch since we gave away all of our baby stuff... not that some of it would be usable anyway, most of it would be 8 yrs old. We have to add a room in our walk up attic, buy a bigger car.
And plan the MISU's vasectomy ASAHP.
Hmm, Christmas is just around the corner. ;)
Thursday, September 04, 2008
Saturday, February 23, 2008
It's all about the Benjamins, baby!
I know, I know, you never expect a 38 year old, white-xican middle class mom of 2 to start quoting a rap song but you should know by now to expect the unexpected when it comes to the ol' mert. :P
I am of course referring to the fact that I got to train as a cashier at The T on Thursday. Let me just preface this whole post by saying that when Miss HR said that we would feel overwhelmed with all of the information that we received during orientation? Ummm yeah, just a smidge. Fortunately though, all of the fellow employees that I have worked with have been very nice and VERY patient.
Also,on a side note- we were informed for the 20th time during the 2 days of orientation that using the employee discount for anyone other than the people that are applicable is unacceptable. For me, that would be me and John will get his own discount card since he is considered a dependent. Once the girls are 16, if I am still working at The T, they will get their own cards. For the youngsters I'm orienting with, they can only use the discount for themselves. Using your discount for your family and friends will result in immediate termination. So, you can't purchase anything and let them pay you back, so that they will benefit from the discount basically. Keep this little tidbit stored away until the end of my post.
Anyway, after learning the basics and running drills with fake credit cards with my fellow orientees for about 1 1/2 hours, we were thrown to the wolves. I managed to get my first mistake out of the way on my very first live transaction, and it was a biggie. Yay me. *rolls eyes* HOWEVER, I was consciously anally retentive after that, but in a sweaty and nervous kind of way. ;) After that I made a few small fixable errors like the scanner picking up an item twice.
My newbie cohorts and I all got a few customers then had a lull for a few minutes, then I realized that I was first in line as far as customers coming from the back of the store. I realized that I should just plow ahead and take as many customers as possible to get more comfortable... and before I knew I was chit chatting with them like 7 years ago when I was a nurse. Talking to complete strangers came back with such an ease, and with the exception of 2 people talking with them was pleasant.
After about 40 minutes of checking out customers, I was in the groove and felt pretty comfortable... except when I remembered that the register times your transactions. Yes, you actually get "speed reports". You want to stay green, not yellow or red. I got a few reds, but for the most part green, but still when I heard that cashiers were timed, I was kind of floored. But I guess with more experience it shouldn't be a problem.
Overall though, it was pretty easy once I got the hang of it. The high school kid that was orienting with me jokingly complained that i was getting all of the customers being first in line at the registers, so I asked him if he wanted to switch registers. "NO," he held up his hands.
The night wasn't done after I got off work though, my MIL was nice enough to pick me from work. She needed to get Anna's birthday present yet so after I clocked out, I put on my coat to make sure I wouldn't be approached after hours (they suggest this), and I toodle'd around the curtain aisle while waiting for the MIL to get there. And waited , and waited. Some of the team looked at me questioningly and maybe even a little suspiciously.
Let me just say that I have this weird thing that even if I'm completely innocent, I get a little nervous (sometimes angry and indignant, but mostly nervous) when someone starts looking at me with narrowed or judging eyes. So, even if I'm not doing anything wrong, I probably look as if I'm doing something wrong. I'm a dork, sue me.
Anywho, I finally found the MIL, and we headed over to curtains. She had a cart full of stuff so I put my things on the bottom of the cart (pull ups, milk x2, cereal, and granola bars x2). After we picked out curtains that matched a Hannah Montana pillow case that I had ordered from Amazon.com, we headed up to the front.
As I walked to the front, I noticed the Team Leader that had been on my shift standing up at the register talking to the fella that was working the register... and then I noticed that her face fell from slight amusement to "Oh, NO she DI'INT!" ( and even possibly over to "B*tch, please!").
"Oh God," I thought to myself..."She actually thinks that I am retarded enough to try that- on the first day? Shoot, I know they are serious about firing... but I'm not that stupid. Maybe dumb, but not stupid." Completely innocent me, I practically implicate myself by nervously looking at the cart and trying to bring spit back into my dry mouth by licking my lips.
Then, as I neared thegallows register, I realized, "Hey, you have endured much worse than this... This is just a Pavlovian response to your upbringing, and the oh so familiar look she is giving you. You didn't do anything wrong. So, you were punished as child, despite whether or not you were guilty... get over it. You're not a kid anymore."
So I came to the register and calmly said," This is my stuff," as I put my things on the counter, 'And ALL of that," I made a pushing motion towards the 1/2 full cart," is my MIL's." I smiled reassuringly, and looked the Team Leader square in the eye.
I mean seriously, why would I agree to work so hard for such little pay and go through the agony of learning so much information in such little time... just to mess it up, all for a 10% discount? OK, maybe for a 40% discount, but 10% is hardly worth the effort. ;)
Turns out my discount card still wasn't working, so they owe me $2.20. Sons a biscuits.
Of course, after we were all done being rung up, I started to shake out of nervousness (Old habits die hard. Thanks mother). I realize that she was just doing her job, but man do I hate that feeling. I'm sure every new employee probably gets that "Sucka, PLEASE!" look the first time they approach the register with someone else, but it just makes me feel bad.
Oh well, I'm sure this will make a good story next year at the Christmas party. ;)
I am of course referring to the fact that I got to train as a cashier at The T on Thursday. Let me just preface this whole post by saying that when Miss HR said that we would feel overwhelmed with all of the information that we received during orientation? Ummm yeah, just a smidge. Fortunately though, all of the fellow employees that I have worked with have been very nice and VERY patient.
Also,on a side note- we were informed for the 20th time during the 2 days of orientation that using the employee discount for anyone other than the people that are applicable is unacceptable. For me, that would be me and John will get his own discount card since he is considered a dependent. Once the girls are 16, if I am still working at The T, they will get their own cards. For the youngsters I'm orienting with, they can only use the discount for themselves. Using your discount for your family and friends will result in immediate termination. So, you can't purchase anything and let them pay you back, so that they will benefit from the discount basically. Keep this little tidbit stored away until the end of my post.
Anyway, after learning the basics and running drills with fake credit cards with my fellow orientees for about 1 1/2 hours, we were thrown to the wolves. I managed to get my first mistake out of the way on my very first live transaction, and it was a biggie. Yay me. *rolls eyes* HOWEVER, I was consciously anally retentive after that, but in a sweaty and nervous kind of way. ;) After that I made a few small fixable errors like the scanner picking up an item twice.
My newbie cohorts and I all got a few customers then had a lull for a few minutes, then I realized that I was first in line as far as customers coming from the back of the store. I realized that I should just plow ahead and take as many customers as possible to get more comfortable... and before I knew I was chit chatting with them like 7 years ago when I was a nurse. Talking to complete strangers came back with such an ease, and with the exception of 2 people talking with them was pleasant.
After about 40 minutes of checking out customers, I was in the groove and felt pretty comfortable... except when I remembered that the register times your transactions. Yes, you actually get "speed reports". You want to stay green, not yellow or red. I got a few reds, but for the most part green, but still when I heard that cashiers were timed, I was kind of floored. But I guess with more experience it shouldn't be a problem.
Overall though, it was pretty easy once I got the hang of it. The high school kid that was orienting with me jokingly complained that i was getting all of the customers being first in line at the registers, so I asked him if he wanted to switch registers. "NO," he held up his hands.
The night wasn't done after I got off work though, my MIL was nice enough to pick me from work. She needed to get Anna's birthday present yet so after I clocked out, I put on my coat to make sure I wouldn't be approached after hours (they suggest this), and I toodle'd around the curtain aisle while waiting for the MIL to get there. And waited , and waited. Some of the team looked at me questioningly and maybe even a little suspiciously.
Let me just say that I have this weird thing that even if I'm completely innocent, I get a little nervous (sometimes angry and indignant, but mostly nervous) when someone starts looking at me with narrowed or judging eyes. So, even if I'm not doing anything wrong, I probably look as if I'm doing something wrong. I'm a dork, sue me.
Anywho, I finally found the MIL, and we headed over to curtains. She had a cart full of stuff so I put my things on the bottom of the cart (pull ups, milk x2, cereal, and granola bars x2). After we picked out curtains that matched a Hannah Montana pillow case that I had ordered from Amazon.com, we headed up to the front.
As I walked to the front, I noticed the Team Leader that had been on my shift standing up at the register talking to the fella that was working the register... and then I noticed that her face fell from slight amusement to "Oh, NO she DI'INT!" ( and even possibly over to "B*tch, please!").
"Oh God," I thought to myself..."She actually thinks that I am retarded enough to try that- on the first day? Shoot, I know they are serious about firing... but I'm not that stupid. Maybe dumb, but not stupid." Completely innocent me, I practically implicate myself by nervously looking at the cart and trying to bring spit back into my dry mouth by licking my lips.
Then, as I neared the
So I came to the register and calmly said," This is my stuff," as I put my things on the counter, 'And ALL of that," I made a pushing motion towards the 1/2 full cart," is my MIL's." I smiled reassuringly, and looked the Team Leader square in the eye.
I mean seriously, why would I agree to work so hard for such little pay and go through the agony of learning so much information in such little time... just to mess it up, all for a 10% discount? OK, maybe for a 40% discount, but 10% is hardly worth the effort. ;)
Turns out my discount card still wasn't working, so they owe me $2.20. Sons a biscuits.
Of course, after we were all done being rung up, I started to shake out of nervousness (Old habits die hard. Thanks mother). I realize that she was just doing her job, but man do I hate that feeling. I'm sure every new employee probably gets that "Sucka, PLEASE!" look the first time they approach the register with someone else, but it just makes me feel bad.
Oh well, I'm sure this will make a good story next year at the Christmas party. ;)
Tuesday, February 05, 2008
Crazy, crazy, crazy!
I wish we could get some consistent weather here! A few days ago the snow was melting, and a few hours later.... BOOM! 5 inches of snow. Yesterday it was a bit warmer and foggy and today we are in the middle of a winter storm once again.
It's a good thing I went grocery shopping last night ;)
On another note- You know what they say about kids socking away tidbits of information and then toss it back at you, kind of like the springy things that come flying out of one of those practical joke jars of nuts.
The other night I was in too much pain- even after 4 days of noyoga yog-ouch, and John was getting Emma ready to go out for errands as I got out of the shower.
She looked right into her daddy's eyes, and with a mischievous twinkle and grin she told him, "You're a sh*t head."
I peeked around the corner into her room, and in a state of quasi amusement- and yet complete horror- I asked, "Uhhhhhh, what did you just say?"
John got up and made his way to the bathroom, "I think she just called me a d*ck head." He paused a moment to glare at me with a raised eyebrow. "Hmmm, I wonder where she got that from," he said in almost a sing song voice.
"Nononono, she said sh*t head," I sputtered as I tried to stem the flow of hysterical laughter that bubbled out of me.
"Oh. Yeah. That's soooo much better."
The next day, John gave the girls a bath since mommy still felt old and achy. John said, "Tonight it's in and out, no playing with toys."
Emma very succinctly voiced her displeasure. "Dammit!"
Yes, you guessed it... I got glared at again. He hen asked me what I was teaching them. I replied that at least she used both curses properly, and after laughing for 3 minutes and composing myself I explained that dammit was a bad word.
I don't know about Emma, but I think John is scarred for life. The moral of the story? It's all fun and games until your (almost) 3 year old remembers something funny mommy called daddy one day, a long time ago.
I know that one day John will use this against me, probably at Emma's wedding. Oh boy, I can't wait.
It's a good thing I went grocery shopping last night ;)
On another note- You know what they say about kids socking away tidbits of information and then toss it back at you, kind of like the springy things that come flying out of one of those practical joke jars of nuts.
The other night I was in too much pain- even after 4 days of no
She looked right into her daddy's eyes, and with a mischievous twinkle and grin she told him, "You're a sh*t head."
I peeked around the corner into her room, and in a state of quasi amusement- and yet complete horror- I asked, "Uhhhhhh, what did you just say?"
John got up and made his way to the bathroom, "I think she just called me a d*ck head." He paused a moment to glare at me with a raised eyebrow. "Hmmm, I wonder where she got that from," he said in almost a sing song voice.
"Nononono, she said sh*t head," I sputtered as I tried to stem the flow of hysterical laughter that bubbled out of me.
"Oh. Yeah. That's soooo much better."
The next day, John gave the girls a bath since mommy still felt old and achy. John said, "Tonight it's in and out, no playing with toys."
Emma very succinctly voiced her displeasure. "Dammit!"
Yes, you guessed it... I got glared at again. He hen asked me what I was teaching them. I replied that at least she used both curses properly, and after laughing for 3 minutes and composing myself I explained that dammit was a bad word.
I don't know about Emma, but I think John is scarred for life. The moral of the story? It's all fun and games until your (almost) 3 year old remembers something funny mommy called daddy one day, a long time ago.
I know that one day John will use this against me, probably at Emma's wedding. Oh boy, I can't wait.
Monday, January 28, 2008
The old one-two punch
Last night Anna and I were playing a fruitless game she likes to play called "I'm stronger than you, mom". One day, when I'm old[er] and gray[er], I'm sure she will actually succeed, but for now my "mom guns" continue to win out over her wiry, almost-7-year-old biceps.
I could let her win, but I'm a firm believer in letting your kids experience the agony of defeat on occasion. It builds character ;) And it teaches them that life is not free buffet; you have to earn most things in life.
Anyway, back to bedtime. Anna is trying to move my hand to her face so she can stick my finger up her nose. I fight her with hardly any effort at all, and So, Anna decides that in order to lift my right arm off of her bed that she will need to counter my strength by throwing her whole body backwards... into my face.
I was moved, so to speak, and my right hand moved alright; it moved to my mouth and nose in pain. I learned a thing or two last night as Newton's Laws of Motion played themselves out in WWE-esque musical of pain.
I groaned "Ahhhhhhh! Oh my God!" while clutching my nose. I got up and flipped on the light after the stars subsided and checked out my face in the mirror on her closet door. Anna started to tear up as I calmly said that I had bitten my lip, and that my lip was starting to swell. Then I noticed a piece of something gritty on my lip as I licked back a tiny bit of blood.
Me- "Oooh, I think I chipped my tooth."
Anna- "Waaaaaah! It's all my fault!...."
Me- "I'm OK... that tooth was already chipped anyway."
Anna- *sniff* "I'm sorry I hurt you mommy." *cries a little bit more* "I didn't do it on purpose."
Me- "I know you didn't do it on purpose. It's OK, stop crying. If I thought you had done it on purpose I'd be really mad right now. Do I look mad?"
She shakes her head no, and sniffles a bit more.
Me- "See? I'm fine." I tilt my head back because I feel something wet in my nose, and I have a gander in her mirror, "Oh man, I think I have a bloody nose..."
Anna- *her eyes get really big* "....Waaaaaaaaaaaah!"
I chuckle as I stuff a tissue up my nose, then give my girl a hug, all while trying to convince her that I'm not upset and that I have survived much worse than this. I realize that life really is like a buffet, you just have to decide if the last chicken wing is worth the bloody nose and chipped tooth.
I'm guessing as I get older that I will give up the last chicken wing in hopes of getting a table closer to the bathroom. Besides, by then I will have had all my teeth knocked out and will be opting for pudding instead.
But for now, that darned chicken wing is all mine.
I could let her win, but I'm a firm believer in letting your kids experience the agony of defeat on occasion. It builds character ;) And it teaches them that life is not free buffet; you have to earn most things in life.
Anyway, back to bedtime. Anna is trying to move my hand to her face so she can stick my finger up her nose. I fight her with hardly any effort at all, and So, Anna decides that in order to lift my right arm off of her bed that she will need to counter my strength by throwing her whole body backwards... into my face.
I was moved, so to speak, and my right hand moved alright; it moved to my mouth and nose in pain. I learned a thing or two last night as Newton's Laws of Motion played themselves out in WWE-esque musical of pain.
I groaned "Ahhhhhhh! Oh my God!" while clutching my nose. I got up and flipped on the light after the stars subsided and checked out my face in the mirror on her closet door. Anna started to tear up as I calmly said that I had bitten my lip, and that my lip was starting to swell. Then I noticed a piece of something gritty on my lip as I licked back a tiny bit of blood.
Me- "Oooh, I think I chipped my tooth."
Anna- "Waaaaaah! It's all my fault!...."
Me- "I'm OK... that tooth was already chipped anyway."
Anna- *sniff* "I'm sorry I hurt you mommy." *cries a little bit more* "I didn't do it on purpose."
Me- "I know you didn't do it on purpose. It's OK, stop crying. If I thought you had done it on purpose I'd be really mad right now. Do I look mad?"
She shakes her head no, and sniffles a bit more.
Me- "See? I'm fine." I tilt my head back because I feel something wet in my nose, and I have a gander in her mirror, "Oh man, I think I have a bloody nose..."
Anna- *her eyes get really big* "....Waaaaaaaaaaaah!"
I chuckle as I stuff a tissue up my nose, then give my girl a hug, all while trying to convince her that I'm not upset and that I have survived much worse than this. I realize that life really is like a buffet, you just have to decide if the last chicken wing is worth the bloody nose and chipped tooth.
I'm guessing as I get older that I will give up the last chicken wing in hopes of getting a table closer to the bathroom. Besides, by then I will have had all my teeth knocked out and will be opting for pudding instead.
But for now, that darned chicken wing is all mine.
Monday, December 17, 2007
So long good friend, RIP.
Dearest friend,
I am so sorry that I never told you how much I loved you and now you are gone. I just can't believe it. I am saddened by absence of your humming, the house seems so empty without it.
All the hours we spent in the kitchen together will be remembered with fondness, and I will never forget your tireless energy and your willingness to help me with menial task of washing my dishes.
You carried about your business in the kitchen like nothing was wrong, and I am almost angry that you gave me no warning that you were having issues with your health and would soon die. Yesterday, I knew something was wrong when you just didn't care anymore and decided to smoke for the first time... and just moments before I had to pull the plug, you made odd sputtering and popping noises.
I sensed a spark in you at that moment, a great and horrible spark that I never knew you even had in you. It was almost as if you had decided that life could be summed up in the way in which you left this earth, that your final act would be a memorable one. If only you had warned me, shown some sign that something was amiss... I could have had someone take a look at you and fix what had been ailing you.
I didn't know that the slight leaking from your bottom was that serious. Maybe that was the sign that you were trying to show me... and I ignored it like a fool. I just cleaned up after you and went on believing that everything was alright.
You cold body remains in my kitchen and it is horrifying to me that soon you will sit out in the cold, frozen, for anyone to harvest your parts if they wish. The thought of strangers touching you is almost more than I can bear. I only wish that we had the money to dispose of you properly.
I hope you do not think poorly of me and will understand when I eventually move on and search for another to fill the void.
You once brought Joy and Sunlight into my life, and I feel a gentle warmth Cascade over me when I think of our time together. Dishwasher... you will be sorely missed.
Rest in peace.
1995?-2007
~mert
I am so sorry that I never told you how much I loved you and now you are gone. I just can't believe it. I am saddened by absence of your humming, the house seems so empty without it.
All the hours we spent in the kitchen together will be remembered with fondness, and I will never forget your tireless energy and your willingness to help me with menial task of washing my dishes.
You carried about your business in the kitchen like nothing was wrong, and I am almost angry that you gave me no warning that you were having issues with your health and would soon die. Yesterday, I knew something was wrong when you just didn't care anymore and decided to smoke for the first time... and just moments before I had to pull the plug, you made odd sputtering and popping noises.
I sensed a spark in you at that moment, a great and horrible spark that I never knew you even had in you. It was almost as if you had decided that life could be summed up in the way in which you left this earth, that your final act would be a memorable one. If only you had warned me, shown some sign that something was amiss... I could have had someone take a look at you and fix what had been ailing you.
I didn't know that the slight leaking from your bottom was that serious. Maybe that was the sign that you were trying to show me... and I ignored it like a fool. I just cleaned up after you and went on believing that everything was alright.
You cold body remains in my kitchen and it is horrifying to me that soon you will sit out in the cold, frozen, for anyone to harvest your parts if they wish. The thought of strangers touching you is almost more than I can bear. I only wish that we had the money to dispose of you properly.
I hope you do not think poorly of me and will understand when I eventually move on and search for another to fill the void.
You once brought Joy and Sunlight into my life, and I feel a gentle warmth Cascade over me when I think of our time together. Dishwasher... you will be sorely missed.
Rest in peace.
1995?-2007~mert
Tuesday, December 04, 2007
Random Bizarre-ness
So, two nights ago, after discovering that we are behind on some bills (long story, let's just say that my husband USED to pay the bills *sigh*), I opened a piece of mail that I almost threw out. That little voice said, "No, open it... really."
The unopened piece of mail and I stared each other down for a few minutes. Finally I gave in and opened it, and for my efforts I earned a refund check of 400.00 from our property tax escrow account.
And a paper cut, but it was totally worth it.
That night, obviously distressed that 400.00 wouldn't even touch the bills that we have, I had a dream that night that we won over a million dollars, and I found out by opening a piece of mail.
Now, to sound completely weird let me just say that I have had dreams that have come real, and parts of dreams that have come true. Some of the dreams are good, and some are bad,a nd some are just wishful thinking. I'm playing the lottery just in case.
In other "The circus that is me" news, I had more freaky dreams last night. I don't know what this means, and I don't know if I want to know... I dreamed that Glen Close was having a sing-off with an older actress, who's name fails me.
The really weird part is that I can remember waking up briefly to turn over and thinking, "Glen could take that old broad, in more ways than one. Especially Fatal Attraction Glen."
What the...? No more BLT's for dinner for me. Something got my brain going wonky... maybe it was the adhesive from all of those bills I opened?
This morning I heard a beeping sound. It was driving us all nuts. I had my husband look in the basement to check the water softener and some alarm. I checked around to find the source of the weird electronic sound, and thought I heard it come from a lap top that my husband had already packed and taped up in a box and told John after he came up from searching the basement for 10 minutes.
After John completely unpacked and unwrapped the lap top, the sound chimed again near the spot the laptop box had been originally. Then I realized my cell phone was right there in that spot.
OOPS!
"I'm gonna kill you, lady, " John said shaking his head and laughing.
I guess being so anal retentive (about charging your cell phone that you don't even recognize your own phone's recharge alarm) does have it's down side.
Well, a downside for the husband, anyway.
The downside to the downside? The next time something beeps he's going to send me on the wild goose chase.
The unopened piece of mail and I stared each other down for a few minutes. Finally I gave in and opened it, and for my efforts I earned a refund check of 400.00 from our property tax escrow account.
And a paper cut, but it was totally worth it.
That night, obviously distressed that 400.00 wouldn't even touch the bills that we have, I had a dream that night that we won over a million dollars, and I found out by opening a piece of mail.
Now, to sound completely weird let me just say that I have had dreams that have come real, and parts of dreams that have come true. Some of the dreams are good, and some are bad,a nd some are just wishful thinking. I'm playing the lottery just in case.
In other "The circus that is me" news, I had more freaky dreams last night. I don't know what this means, and I don't know if I want to know... I dreamed that Glen Close was having a sing-off with an older actress, who's name fails me.
The really weird part is that I can remember waking up briefly to turn over and thinking, "Glen could take that old broad, in more ways than one. Especially Fatal Attraction Glen."
What the...? No more BLT's for dinner for me. Something got my brain going wonky... maybe it was the adhesive from all of those bills I opened?This morning I heard a beeping sound. It was driving us all nuts. I had my husband look in the basement to check the water softener and some alarm. I checked around to find the source of the weird electronic sound, and thought I heard it come from a lap top that my husband had already packed and taped up in a box and told John after he came up from searching the basement for 10 minutes.
After John completely unpacked and unwrapped the lap top, the sound chimed again near the spot the laptop box had been originally. Then I realized my cell phone was right there in that spot.
OOPS!
"I'm gonna kill you, lady, " John said shaking his head and laughing.
I guess being so anal retentive (about charging your cell phone that you don't even recognize your own phone's recharge alarm) does have it's down side.
Well, a downside for the husband, anyway.
The downside to the downside? The next time something beeps he's going to send me on the wild goose chase.
Monday, November 26, 2007
You heard it here first!
I just read this blog post on AOL giving information to the authorities, and for the record I feel comfortable with this. I think if you find that one person is researching such content that it is at least worth looking into...
Except if it comes to me. Just for the record, Federal Bureau of Investigations, the reason why you or Google might have noticed me trolling your site is because I am writing a book for NaNoWriMo. Honestly.
Also, my google searches for: Barrett M107 Sniper Rifles, Glocks, Military Surplus, hit man lingo, FBI locations in California, ways to say that someone has been killed, how long does it take to bleed out from a groin wound, female assassins, military bases and addresses in southern California, search warrants etc, etc, etc...
these are just searches I am doing for my novel. By the way, besides aving one FBI character that is kind of a slob, I promise that all of the other Bureau characters are written with the utmost reverence and taste.
I promise you that the only thing I'm planning on murdering besides the English language, is ironically a character named English. Besides I love my family and friends. The ones I don't like are hardly worth the trouble.
So Google and Blogger (who is owned by Google), before you turn me in to the feds check out my other blog where my book currently resides... it's all there.
Nervously yours,
~mert
Except if it comes to me. Just for the record, Federal Bureau of Investigations, the reason why you or Google might have noticed me trolling your site is because I am writing a book for NaNoWriMo. Honestly.
Also, my google searches for: Barrett M107 Sniper Rifles, Glocks, Military Surplus, hit man lingo, FBI locations in California, ways to say that someone has been killed, how long does it take to bleed out from a groin wound, female assassins, military bases and addresses in southern California, search warrants etc, etc, etc...
these are just searches I am doing for my novel. By the way, besides aving one FBI character that is kind of a slob, I promise that all of the other Bureau characters are written with the utmost reverence and taste.
I promise you that the only thing I'm planning on murdering besides the English language, is ironically a character named English. Besides I love my family and friends. The ones I don't like are hardly worth the trouble.
So Google and Blogger (who is owned by Google), before you turn me in to the feds check out my other blog where my book currently resides... it's all there.
Nervously yours,
~mert
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
For this Thanksgiving, I'll have some bad haircut...
With a side of mullet, please!
Good Lord people! Not only have I broken up with my best friend, but now I have to divorce my hair dresser too? Last night I asked for a trim for my layers--------------> See my profile picture?
You know things are bad when:
Your hair dresser keeps you faced away from the mirror the whole time, lets you see for a second before sending you on your quasi-merry way, while deploying the "I'll make the top of her head so poofy that she won't notice the fricking huge chunk of hair missing from the left side of her head".
And when the first thing out of your husband's mouth is that you look like Mrs. Brady.
<---------------I actually wish that my hair looked this good
I would post a picture... OK not really. That's how un-freaking-happy I am right now. I have a long history of being a bad haircut magnet. Either that or deep down I'm a REALLY bad person and Karma keeps biting me in the @ss. You know what Karma? I don't know who the hell you think you are, but I'm flipping you off right now.
The bad part is that I finally get my hair grown out and then I get a cut like this and its pretty much a take 2 steps forward and 5 steps back situation.
Lessons learned this week:
Fast food dinner out with your family while waiting for your hair appointment= 17.00
Having your haircut by a stylist who is nervous about her upcoming surgery= 16.00
Having your hair f*cked up right before a holiday= PRICELESS
BONUS: I have hit an all time low. I said f*ck and @ss in the same blog post.
Good Lord people! Not only have I broken up with my best friend, but now I have to divorce my hair dresser too? Last night I asked for a trim for my layers--------------> See my profile picture?
You know things are bad when:
Your hair dresser keeps you faced away from the mirror the whole time, lets you see for a second before sending you on your quasi-merry way, while deploying the "I'll make the top of her head so poofy that she won't notice the fricking huge chunk of hair missing from the left side of her head".
And when the first thing out of your husband's mouth is that you look like Mrs. Brady.
<---------------I actually wish that my hair looked this goodI would post a picture... OK not really. That's how un-freaking-happy I am right now. I have a long history of being a bad haircut magnet. Either that or deep down I'm a REALLY bad person and Karma keeps biting me in the @ss. You know what Karma? I don't know who the hell you think you are, but I'm flipping you off right now.
The bad part is that I finally get my hair grown out and then I get a cut like this and its pretty much a take 2 steps forward and 5 steps back situation.
Lessons learned this week:
Fast food dinner out with your family while waiting for your hair appointment= 17.00
Having your haircut by a stylist who is nervous about her upcoming surgery= 16.00
Having your hair f*cked up right before a holiday= PRICELESS
BONUS: I have hit an all time low. I said f*ck and @ss in the same blog post.
Monday, November 19, 2007
Have you ever had a friend...
That hurt you so much that you didn't want to talk to them ever again?
I had a friend (who lives 2000 miles away, and that I have been friends with for over 10 years) that had been having marital problems for over 6 years. There have been many, many times that we talked on the phone for hours before and after she started having problems. We have been such good friends that we at times have called each other best friend, and there have been times when we fought and didn't speak for 11 months.
Our relationship was very honest and we could talk about anything. We laughed and cried, we fought, we complained and bitched about our lives and all of that was OK. It was better than OK, she has been as close of a friend as my husband at times.
Over the last year, when her marriage was really in crisis, I had spent hours- willingly because I loved her- on the phone talking about her problems, supporting her decisions, giving advice when she asked. I had spent hours talking and consoling, and at times forgotten to make dinner for my kids (until Anna said she was starving). I spent hours telling my kids "not now I'm on the phone" because my friend lived so far away and was so busy working extra ours to save money for her impending separation, so I talked to her whenever she needed. She was so busy that the only time she ever seemed to call me was when she was driving somewhere.
Then one day, she told me that they had worked things out. Though I still worried about her, I was happy that she was happy and supported her decision because it's her life. Suddenly I was told that she was trying to cut out all the negative people in her life, and I noticed that she usually told me this shortly after I did our usual complaining that we do about things that are annoying us at the time... then she would tell me she was lost and had to get directions, or had another call, and that she would call me back.
And she never did.
This happened once, and though I was hurt, I thought"she is really busy, she'll call me back when she has a chance."
It happened a second time and I said to myself, "That is a weird coincidence. Hmmm, not sure what to think about that."
It happened a third time... so I stopped taking her calls when she finally called me back 3 weeks later.
That was almost 4 months ago, and she stopped calling after I decided not to send her daughter anything for her birthday. I figured she had realized that I was hurt and upset, then got mad that I didn't send her daughter anything. I figured our friendship was pretty much over since she thought I was all of a sudden to negative and she was cutting all of US out of her life.
I told my husband that I had a feeling that she would be calling the next time she needed something. Sure enough, she started calling again.
My problem besides the obvious is that I felt like we have been friends for so many years and the fact that now our friendship arrangement was no longer suitable to her, it was almost like my husband had suddenly told me that he couldn't stand the way I breathe. It hurt me deeply that we have been such close friends over the years that we accepted each others flaws, mourned with each other and even fought like sisters.
And then one day she tells me in so many words that I can't be in her life anymore because what I have offered her over the years (and she had offered back exactly) isn't good enough anymore. I'm too negative suddenly , when I haven't changed the way I have interacted with her as a friend. I'm not good enough.
The problem is that I don't even know if she understands what she has done. Over the years I have overlooked her shortcomings (and I wont list them since I don't know if she reads this blog anymore), and she has over looked mine. Now that her life was back in order and her husband wanted her again, I was no longer needed. It hurt me so much that I couldn't even talk to her about it.
But why talk to someone who obviously doesn't like or even love you anymore? Why waste my energy on someone who obviously feels like I'm inadequate, why put myself through that anymore?
Now, she is calling me again, just like I thought she would. Her husband has changed his mind and is wanting a divorce again, and now since I don't answer her calls- she sending me emails. She is telling people finally that they are separating, when before I was only one of 3 people that knew that her marriage was on the rocks. It's final now and she is sending out emails saying she is going to focus on herself and travel to see friends out of state.
Though I feel bad for her on a basic level, I have been so hurt that anger isn't even an issue anymore,I just don't care.
I feel like she dumped me and now that her dance card is empty, she wants me back to fill the void for her. On some level, I still love her as a friend and though we worked hard to over come our past arguments, I feel as though she attacked my character and told me I wasn't good enough.
If you know me even a little, I am a bit of a dork in so many ways, including social situations. I tend to lash out at people I don't very well if they anger me. The people that I know well and love... if they hurt me I tend to recede and become a hermit. I duck and cover. I know this has a lot to do with my childhood and not being able to have friends, to go out and socialize like a normal teen because I was pretty much locked up at home.
That's why I love blogging. I can socialize and met people, and in a way it's safer that way, but very sad.
I often think and wonder what is wrong with me that I cannot seem to make decent friends in real life, and ask my husband, "Isn't the common denominator me? Either I am attracting the wrong kind of friend because I put out a vibe that people can treat me like crap, or I am socially inept." I often ask my husband, "Am I over reacting?" and he will answer me honestly, and most of the time he will tell me no, that I am not overreacting.
Sometimes he does. And I get pissed. LOL! But I know he is right. Never once during all of this has he told me that I am overreacting.
Anyway, I sound like my friend. We are separating and I am boohooing to you guys. The only difference is that I am neglecting you guys because of NaNoWriMo. :)
BTW, please don't take it personally, I assure you that once I finish this stupid first draft that I will be back laughing with you, heckling you, and just generally being "all up in your business". I haven't visited but a few blogs because writers block is so depressing that even writing comments is mentally crippling. Sad? YES! Self inflicted? Absolutely. Lame? Probably.
Forgive me? Please?
Thanks for listening to me whine about the person who I used to consider my best friend... I feel bad for her , I really do. I just don't know if I am willing to let her kick me in the
I had a friend (who lives 2000 miles away, and that I have been friends with for over 10 years) that had been having marital problems for over 6 years. There have been many, many times that we talked on the phone for hours before and after she started having problems. We have been such good friends that we at times have called each other best friend, and there have been times when we fought and didn't speak for 11 months.
Our relationship was very honest and we could talk about anything. We laughed and cried, we fought, we complained and bitched about our lives and all of that was OK. It was better than OK, she has been as close of a friend as my husband at times.
Over the last year, when her marriage was really in crisis, I had spent hours- willingly because I loved her- on the phone talking about her problems, supporting her decisions, giving advice when she asked. I had spent hours talking and consoling, and at times forgotten to make dinner for my kids (until Anna said she was starving). I spent hours telling my kids "not now I'm on the phone" because my friend lived so far away and was so busy working extra ours to save money for her impending separation, so I talked to her whenever she needed. She was so busy that the only time she ever seemed to call me was when she was driving somewhere.
Then one day, she told me that they had worked things out. Though I still worried about her, I was happy that she was happy and supported her decision because it's her life. Suddenly I was told that she was trying to cut out all the negative people in her life, and I noticed that she usually told me this shortly after I did our usual complaining that we do about things that are annoying us at the time... then she would tell me she was lost and had to get directions, or had another call, and that she would call me back.
And she never did.
This happened once, and though I was hurt, I thought"she is really busy, she'll call me back when she has a chance."
It happened a second time and I said to myself, "That is a weird coincidence. Hmmm, not sure what to think about that."
It happened a third time... so I stopped taking her calls when she finally called me back 3 weeks later.
That was almost 4 months ago, and she stopped calling after I decided not to send her daughter anything for her birthday. I figured she had realized that I was hurt and upset, then got mad that I didn't send her daughter anything. I figured our friendship was pretty much over since she thought I was all of a sudden to negative and she was cutting all of US out of her life.
I told my husband that I had a feeling that she would be calling the next time she needed something. Sure enough, she started calling again.
My problem besides the obvious is that I felt like we have been friends for so many years and the fact that now our friendship arrangement was no longer suitable to her, it was almost like my husband had suddenly told me that he couldn't stand the way I breathe. It hurt me deeply that we have been such close friends over the years that we accepted each others flaws, mourned with each other and even fought like sisters.
And then one day she tells me in so many words that I can't be in her life anymore because what I have offered her over the years (and she had offered back exactly) isn't good enough anymore. I'm too negative suddenly , when I haven't changed the way I have interacted with her as a friend. I'm not good enough.
The problem is that I don't even know if she understands what she has done. Over the years I have overlooked her shortcomings (and I wont list them since I don't know if she reads this blog anymore), and she has over looked mine. Now that her life was back in order and her husband wanted her again, I was no longer needed. It hurt me so much that I couldn't even talk to her about it.
But why talk to someone who obviously doesn't like or even love you anymore? Why waste my energy on someone who obviously feels like I'm inadequate, why put myself through that anymore?
Now, she is calling me again, just like I thought she would. Her husband has changed his mind and is wanting a divorce again, and now since I don't answer her calls- she sending me emails. She is telling people finally that they are separating, when before I was only one of 3 people that knew that her marriage was on the rocks. It's final now and she is sending out emails saying she is going to focus on herself and travel to see friends out of state.
Though I feel bad for her on a basic level, I have been so hurt that anger isn't even an issue anymore,I just don't care.
I feel like she dumped me and now that her dance card is empty, she wants me back to fill the void for her. On some level, I still love her as a friend and though we worked hard to over come our past arguments, I feel as though she attacked my character and told me I wasn't good enough.
If you know me even a little, I am a bit of a dork in so many ways, including social situations. I tend to lash out at people I don't very well if they anger me. The people that I know well and love... if they hurt me I tend to recede and become a hermit. I duck and cover. I know this has a lot to do with my childhood and not being able to have friends, to go out and socialize like a normal teen because I was pretty much locked up at home.
That's why I love blogging. I can socialize and met people, and in a way it's safer that way, but very sad.
I often think and wonder what is wrong with me that I cannot seem to make decent friends in real life, and ask my husband, "Isn't the common denominator me? Either I am attracting the wrong kind of friend because I put out a vibe that people can treat me like crap, or I am socially inept." I often ask my husband, "Am I over reacting?" and he will answer me honestly, and most of the time he will tell me no, that I am not overreacting.
Sometimes he does. And I get pissed. LOL! But I know he is right. Never once during all of this has he told me that I am overreacting.
Anyway, I sound like my friend. We are separating and I am boohooing to you guys. The only difference is that I am neglecting you guys because of NaNoWriMo. :)
BTW, please don't take it personally, I assure you that once I finish this stupid first draft that I will be back laughing with you, heckling you, and just generally being "all up in your business". I haven't visited but a few blogs because writers block is so depressing that even writing comments is mentally crippling. Sad? YES! Self inflicted? Absolutely. Lame? Probably.
Forgive me? Please?
Thanks for listening to me whine about the person who I used to consider my best friend... I feel bad for her , I really do. I just don't know if I am willing to let her kick me in the
Thursday, November 08, 2007
Ten thousand down, forty thousand to go...
This is my brain...
This is my brain in NaNo.
Any qwestions?
Oh, rite... not much diffarhrent I guess, only my speeling is noticeably more horribowl with speel check.
And not only am I slightlee more dorky ( and adorable, I think), but my powers of procrastynation are increeesed 10 fohld. ;) *drool*
I seem to be having more luck with posting on my blog. Dern, I should have done NaBloPoMo.
One more thing... does this picture make my nose look big?
This is my brain in NaNo.
Any qwestions?
Oh, rite... not much diffarhrent I guess, only my speeling is noticeably more horribowl with speel check.
And not only am I slightlee more dorky ( and adorable, I think), but my powers of procrastynation are increeesed 10 fohld. ;) *drool*
I seem to be having more luck with posting on my blog. Dern, I should have done NaBloPoMo.
One more thing... does this picture make my nose look big?
Wednesday, November 07, 2007
Whaaaaaaaaa!
I am stuck. The writer's (cinder) block has come crashing down on my....
I. Can't. Think. Of .The. Word.
Oh yes, my husband just helped me... that would be skull!
---------------------------> Not the word count number of doom. I'm only 1845 words behind.
or if i were typing that in my book, I might consider writing it as "I have written nine thousand eight hundred and twenty-four words, and yet to make today's quota, I still need to write another one thousand eight hundred and forty-five."- just to boost my word count. I have been writing honorably without resorting to dirty tricks, but the dirty tricks are starting to sound like a good idea. You know, in the way that buying that microwave bacon fryer/ sweater drying rack combo sounds like it's a good idea at 3 am.
I am currently at the "I suck, my plot sucks, this is a load of sucking crap and I think I'll just quit" stage.
I must call my technical adviser, he's in the other room playing XBOX 360. I'm sorry I haven't visited yet this week, staring at a blank Word Document is keeping me busy. :(
Self-inflicted misery, it's the worst.
Oh yeah, more important things going on in the world...
I. Can't. Think. Of .The. Word.
Oh yes, my husband just helped me... that would be skull!
---------------------------> Not the word count number of doom. I'm only 1845 words behind.
or if i were typing that in my book, I might consider writing it as "I have written nine thousand eight hundred and twenty-four words, and yet to make today's quota, I still need to write another one thousand eight hundred and forty-five."- just to boost my word count. I have been writing honorably without resorting to dirty tricks, but the dirty tricks are starting to sound like a good idea. You know, in the way that buying that microwave bacon fryer/ sweater drying rack combo sounds like it's a good idea at 3 am.
I am currently at the "I suck, my plot sucks, this is a load of sucking crap and I think I'll just quit" stage.
I must call my technical adviser, he's in the other room playing XBOX 360. I'm sorry I haven't visited yet this week, staring at a blank Word Document is keeping me busy. :(
Self-inflicted misery, it's the worst.
Oh yeah, more important things going on in the world...
Monday, October 29, 2007
To Kill a Mocking Squirrel- OR- RIP Baby Pumpkwin
It truly is a Manic Monday today. I don't know if you saw my last Thursday Thirteen, but it's a slide show of my family at the pumpkin patch. In this post i mentioned that Emma became enamored with a "Baby Pumpkwin", and she carried it around, hugging and kissing the baby like a good little mommy. Even though she didn't want to leave her baby outside, she relented rather easily when I explained that pumpkins grew outside and it would be just fine.
Wednesday night we left our gourd treasures on a bench in our small front doorstep area. We staggered the sizes and it looked simple but pretty. We had 2 large pumkins, 2 small ones- including Emma's Baby Pumpkwin, and 3 teeny ones. Now *sniff* in retrospect, I wish I had snapped a picture.
Saturday morning I grabbed my cuppa joe and walked over to my office armoire, while looking out of the window... and what should I see? A little squirrel looking at me, with a teeny tiny "pumpkwin" grasped in his teeth. I ran out side before he could manage to carry the pumpkin up the tree in my front yard and I must have startled the little bugger so much that he dropped it.
I picked the pumpkin up off my front walk and noticed that Little Bugger was watching me from the side of the tree. He wasn't very happy with me and looked as if he was contemplating jumping me for the goods, the little orb of golden orange deliciousness that he was planning to brunch (and munch) on. He looked at me with those cold beady eyes, his body tensed as if he were about to pounce.
I can only imagine how I looked to my neighbors, but I proceeded to tell the squirrel , "This is my pumpkin, not yours. Don't look at me like that. I'm not scared of you. My Pumpkin. MINE." I held the pumpkin out to emphasize that I meant what I said and said what I meant.
Yes... I taunted a squirrel. Get over it.
Anyway, about an hour and a half later I realized that I should probably see what the Little Bugger had been up to. I opened the front door to find that not just one baby pumpkin was missing but all 5 of the small ones were gone! Little bugger was now promoted to the rank of Little B@st@rd. Every single one of the little ones were gone without a trace. Oh, he's good- I thought.
But wait... what's that bit of orange I see peeking out from the grass? With all of the strength I could muster I walked over to the foot of the tree, and this is what I found. Warning: this picture is graphic in nature, it's not for little pumpkin loving eyes.
If you look closely you can see Baby Pumpkwin next to my front walk, and my little green pumpkin to the right of that in a smaller pile.
Not only had he torn apart my little green pumpkin, but there lie Baby Pumpkwin with his innards strewn, chunks of his flesh there for me find on my very own sidewalk. His stem was missing so I couldn't positively identify him, but I knew it was him. I could understand Little Bugger eating mine (the smaller pile), but to kill Baby Pumpkwin and to leave so much of him behind was just a flagrant display of cruelty.
"Bad squirrel, BAD SQUIRREL," I shouted up from underneath the tree.
Squirrels can be evil and vindictive. They are crafty little beasts. We have had several generations of gourd stealing critters living in the tree in our front yard, but none have ever dared to be so bold as to steal one BEFORE Halloween.
I think I may have been TRICKED by a squirrel, for stealing his TREAT. I guess the joke is on me, eh? Obviously Little Bugger comes from a long line of gourd eating deviants, but this one- this one is just dangerous.
We had to go out last night to pick up one more large pumpkin to make up for the carnage. One of the original guys was carved last night, but his expression says it all.
Let this be a lesson to all... Never taunt a squirrel.
Wednesday night we left our gourd treasures on a bench in our small front doorstep area. We staggered the sizes and it looked simple but pretty. We had 2 large pumkins, 2 small ones- including Emma's Baby Pumpkwin, and 3 teeny ones. Now *sniff* in retrospect, I wish I had snapped a picture.
Saturday morning I grabbed my cuppa joe and walked over to my office armoire, while looking out of the window... and what should I see? A little squirrel looking at me, with a teeny tiny "pumpkwin" grasped in his teeth. I ran out side before he could manage to carry the pumpkin up the tree in my front yard and I must have startled the little bugger so much that he dropped it.
I picked the pumpkin up off my front walk and noticed that Little Bugger was watching me from the side of the tree. He wasn't very happy with me and looked as if he was contemplating jumping me for the goods, the little orb of golden orange deliciousness that he was planning to brunch (and munch) on. He looked at me with those cold beady eyes, his body tensed as if he were about to pounce.
I can only imagine how I looked to my neighbors, but I proceeded to tell the squirrel , "This is my pumpkin, not yours. Don't look at me like that. I'm not scared of you. My Pumpkin. MINE." I held the pumpkin out to emphasize that I meant what I said and said what I meant.
Yes... I taunted a squirrel. Get over it.
Anyway, about an hour and a half later I realized that I should probably see what the Little Bugger had been up to. I opened the front door to find that not just one baby pumpkin was missing but all 5 of the small ones were gone! Little bugger was now promoted to the rank of Little B@st@rd. Every single one of the little ones were gone without a trace. Oh, he's good- I thought.
But wait... what's that bit of orange I see peeking out from the grass? With all of the strength I could muster I walked over to the foot of the tree, and this is what I found. Warning: this picture is graphic in nature, it's not for little pumpkin loving eyes.
If you look closely you can see Baby Pumpkwin next to my front walk, and my little green pumpkin to the right of that in a smaller pile.
Not only had he torn apart my little green pumpkin, but there lie Baby Pumpkwin with his innards strewn, chunks of his flesh there for me find on my very own sidewalk. His stem was missing so I couldn't positively identify him, but I knew it was him. I could understand Little Bugger eating mine (the smaller pile), but to kill Baby Pumpkwin and to leave so much of him behind was just a flagrant display of cruelty.
"Bad squirrel, BAD SQUIRREL," I shouted up from underneath the tree.
Squirrels can be evil and vindictive. They are crafty little beasts. We have had several generations of gourd stealing critters living in the tree in our front yard, but none have ever dared to be so bold as to steal one BEFORE Halloween.
I think I may have been TRICKED by a squirrel, for stealing his TREAT. I guess the joke is on me, eh? Obviously Little Bugger comes from a long line of gourd eating deviants, but this one- this one is just dangerous.
We had to go out last night to pick up one more large pumpkin to make up for the carnage. One of the original guys was carved last night, but his expression says it all.
Let this be a lesson to all... Never taunt a squirrel.
RIP Baby Pumpkwin. *sniff*
Little Bugger, you're lucky. You're very fortunate that I have a soft spot for squirrels... otherwise you'd be sleeping with the fishes.
Saturday, October 27, 2007
My Opinion Meme
This My Opinion Meme was started by a gorgeous AND hilarious blogger I met on cr8buzz, her name is Avery Gray. If you haven't read her blog, you really should. She not only has a wonderful and funny writing style but she also writes poignantly about real life issues.
OK, so the idea for this meme is to strip away all pretense and REALLY give your opinion. From Avery's blog :
OK, so the idea for this meme is to strip away all pretense and REALLY give your opinion. From Avery's blog :
I have deduced that there are some views I hold that people may or may not agree with. Because I believe good, honest debate is a healthy way for individuals to come together and get to know one another, I've chosen to get the ball rolling and share 20 of my most controversial opinions.Be creative, be funny, be controversial, but be honest. ;) Twenty? Phew! Well, actually I am very opinionated (surprise, surprise), so it shouldn't be that hard.
- I believe that The Glass can be both half empty AND half full. Sue me. :P
- God does test us at times, otherwise he wouldn't have created Brussel Sprouts or cocoa beans.
- Just like this blogger I truly do believe that we women are affected by lunar phases. Our bodies are made up of 65% water, and that's not counting retention! You do the math, it makes sense to me. ARRRROOOOOOOOO!
- Cheesecake is neither cake nor pie. Therefore it really should have it's own food category.
- Thousands of our soldiers have died in vain and we need to bring our troops home.
- The Polar Express is a beautiful book, and it's beauty was tarnished by the ridiculous movie.
- I believe that Marilyn Monroe was killed by the same people that assassinated The Kennedy Brothers.
- It is possible to overcome your past, and all the fears and doubts related to it.
- Though we are flawed creatures by nature and though some of us have haunted pasts, I do not believe this should give us license to be a horrible person.
- Potty training is one of the most difficult phases of childhood... for both the parent and child. ;)
- Chocolate should have it's own food group.
- ...and pizza is the perfect food, it has all of the food groups (except for chocolate).
- I believe the chicken came first.
- ...and if Animal X "tastes just like chicken", THEN EAT CHICKEN! What's the point?
- The CORRECT way to make a pb&j sandwich is to put pb on one slice of bread, then jelly on the other. Putting the pb one one piece of bread and then jelly over top of the pb is sacrilegious.
- Kids are little sponges, you get out what you put in- but try not to squeeze too hard.
- There is something to be said for modesty, and leaving a little something to the imagination. I believe all body parts should be covered at least 2 parts out of 3- excluding arms and legs, and the naughty bits should be in the 2/3's that are covered. For men this ratio should be 4 parts out of 5 concerning the "swim suit" areas.
- There is such a thing as personal space, and for me and my kids that would be at least a 3 foot radius. If my kids are within my personal space, the radius begins at the closest of my children near you.
- Success= Aspiration+ Faith+ Commitment (we'll see if I have what it takes with NanNoWriMo)
- Opinions are like aaaaaaaaaaaa...elbows. Everyone has at least one.
Thursday, October 25, 2007
Who, me?
Mr. Dorky Dad gave this to me last week, he thinks that I hit the mark and "touch a range of emotions" . Way cool. He even believes that I deserve and exclamation mark after my screen name. Even better!Well Dorky Dad, you couldn't have picked a better award for me. I have been known to make splotchy stains just like the one in the graphic, usually on the front of my shirt.
PS- Dude, I'm jealous of your cat's @ss award. :D
Also- I say with humility, because I know there is humiliation on the horizon- I am
My [attempt at a] novel will have a little something for everyone: There will guns and gritty, dirt stained testosterone for the guys, love interests and soul searching for the gals, and fluffy bunnies and rainbows for the kids.
OK, maybe not the last part, but I hope there will be some humor/sarcasm too.
Believe it or not, sometimes the toughest part- aside from actually coming up with a basic plot- is coming up with character names. I lucked out this time because a plot came to me through a pair of rhyming words that have absolutely nothing to do with each other. Intrigued? Good. I hope to let you guys read snippets here and there, I'll keep you posted.
On that note, since NaNoWriMo is a month long process (starting November 1st) you can expect to see fewer posts from me. The upside? That means I will be visiting you more, during bouts of writers cramp and/or block.
Ain't you the lucky one.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)