Well, it's been a while since I've seen you. How are you doing? I hope all is well with you.
I'm glad that you finally figured out what that spot was on your shirt. It was a bit of a concern when you were wondering if that was poo or if she had gone outside. Dogs can be such an inconvenience.
Oh my...it wasn't a dog you say? Well then I suppose your child might leave a stain still.
Oh dear...not your child either. Well, let's just let that one go!
So how did that dark spot end up on your lawn anyway? I know I am not a huge fan of watering grass, but you certainly do take pride in your lawn. That brown spot must have been devastating for you. Malicious activity you say? What would ever make you think that? Oh! You saw a neighbor toss some Round-up on your yard. My that must have been a shock! ME?!?! Why, I'd never take the time to do such a nefarious thing. What on Earth would I gain. I mean your lawn isn't frosting is it? If it were frosting I would eat all of your grass.
Fine!! If it's that big a deal I will help you re-sod that spot. I had NOTHING to do with the dog poo on your door step. I don't even have a dog! My cat would die if it passed something that large. You really think it might be human in nature? Well if you must know I did see the neighbor to the left of you with a brown bag, snickering.
Your backyard is full of holes?? What do you think made them? I don't have any chipmunks anymore with the cats. You saw your neighbor behind you digging them.
My word! 3 out of 4 neighbors bothering you. I really am sorry I lied about the Round-up. I didn't realize it would spread and spell out F--- You. Ok I did! I took the time, it was deliberate!!
All 4 neighbors have picked on you? And more??
Fine! We are all tired of the nude sunbathing in the front, back and side yards! We are tired of the bagpipe practice at 2am! I know it's the only time you can practice, but we need sleep. My cat has a nervous tic now from the fife music on Saturday nights. Also the banana hammock your Dad wears to the mailbox quite frankly has us nauseated. Several neighborhood children are very concerned about walking past your house.
I probably should have told you this months ago. I should have been upfront and honest rather than resorting to childish pranks in my defense; it's a difficult to address some of these concerns Sis!
May I get you more coffee....and please put on a bathrobe! The neighbors are coming for coffee and doughnuts.
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
Friday, October 19, 2012
7358400 minutes +
7358400 minutes +.......350 ish minutes when I started this....ok, started this on the 12th, then got busy and forgot to post it...sooo add less than 3200 minutes.
It seems like a large number. It's so incredibly small. My son turned 14 at 9:06 pm on 10/11.
I look at my large, capable (slightly) confident, yet wholly undaunted and friendly son. I realize many people "don't get him" they likely never will. Similar to me and my husband, he marches between a beat of his own and the struggle to fit in. It's always so hard to find one's place in the world. I ache for him when I see the worry etched on his face, the panic starting, the fear of non acceptance. Every year, he finds friends. Some choices are good, some friends make bad choices, some hopelessly nerdy..(good kids nonetheless).
All in all he does a decent job choosing friends. The one's he spends the most time with...the hangout friends, are all talkative, friendly, slightly helpful boys. They don't really cheat or steal. It's impossible to steal cookies freely given and no one tells the whole truth about how many cookies they've had. Oh wait...I'm the lying cookie thief! They fess up proudly to the 12 cookies they each ate. Maybe they just cheat and take the largest...or is that evil, wicked me again?
It breaks my heart to see his failures, him quitting, fear of success as crippling as that of failure. I wish there were a magic Mommy circuit board I could have implanted. It would emit a low and constant dose of booze or a relaxing medication. The booze board would make me more fun to be around though.
I need to smile more, enjoy him more...and deal with his attitude changes...at 14, i'm suuure he knows much more than I do. I am constantly reminded how abjectly stupid I am to expect him to put away clothes, do a few chores, homework and keep his room cleanish.
On the flipside, I'm pretty smart. I taught him to cook early and often! He makes omelettes with wild abandon. So wild in fact that we now have curry powder and other spices in eggs. It works! We found out because of our marvelous budding chef. We never wondered, he didn't take time to weigh it out, he wondered then did it.
I wonder what the next very short minutes he will live with us are going to be like?
It seems like a large number. It's so incredibly small. My son turned 14 at 9:06 pm on 10/11.
I look at my large, capable (slightly) confident, yet wholly undaunted and friendly son. I realize many people "don't get him" they likely never will. Similar to me and my husband, he marches between a beat of his own and the struggle to fit in. It's always so hard to find one's place in the world. I ache for him when I see the worry etched on his face, the panic starting, the fear of non acceptance. Every year, he finds friends. Some choices are good, some friends make bad choices, some hopelessly nerdy..(good kids nonetheless).
All in all he does a decent job choosing friends. The one's he spends the most time with...the hangout friends, are all talkative, friendly, slightly helpful boys. They don't really cheat or steal. It's impossible to steal cookies freely given and no one tells the whole truth about how many cookies they've had. Oh wait...I'm the lying cookie thief! They fess up proudly to the 12 cookies they each ate. Maybe they just cheat and take the largest...or is that evil, wicked me again?
It breaks my heart to see his failures, him quitting, fear of success as crippling as that of failure. I wish there were a magic Mommy circuit board I could have implanted. It would emit a low and constant dose of booze or a relaxing medication. The booze board would make me more fun to be around though.
I need to smile more, enjoy him more...and deal with his attitude changes...at 14, i'm suuure he knows much more than I do. I am constantly reminded how abjectly stupid I am to expect him to put away clothes, do a few chores, homework and keep his room cleanish.
On the flipside, I'm pretty smart. I taught him to cook early and often! He makes omelettes with wild abandon. So wild in fact that we now have curry powder and other spices in eggs. It works! We found out because of our marvelous budding chef. We never wondered, he didn't take time to weigh it out, he wondered then did it.
I wonder what the next very short minutes he will live with us are going to be like?
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
Glee did it better...
Britney that is.....
We dvr most shows, time, ads, lazy....etc.
Recently we watched Britney 2.0. Even Glee couldn't do much with the train wreck that was the last part of that over played lounge act. I never was fond of her. It's like the Benjamin Button of Vegas. Instead of running toward a lounge act in her later years at some dusty faded casino, her career seemed spawned in a dusty faded casino...then the casino wised up and redid the play-bill with a talented performer like....Rebecca Black or Ke$ha.
It has nothing to do with her emotional state, drug use, non use, Federlining....it's just her voice. It sounded like 90% studio enhancement 10% her. The performers on Glee actually seem to care and put emotion into otherwise flat songs. They did such a great job the first time around I almost....almost wanted to hear the original. Then I thought...why ruin a rose with stinkweed.
I realize many people (chris crocker in that odd vid i fortunately never saw all of) adore her. I also know people who eat Limburger cheese. I adore cheese, yet I can not swallow Limburger cheese. I've bought it a few times to no avail. It's not a gag reflex, it feels like my throat closes and my mouth wants it out. I don't think Britney Spears is Limburger to my ears, I just don't like her voice.
I guess what it boils down to is.... Let there be Britney songs, but let them be done by Glee. :D
We dvr most shows, time, ads, lazy....etc.
Recently we watched Britney 2.0. Even Glee couldn't do much with the train wreck that was the last part of that over played lounge act. I never was fond of her. It's like the Benjamin Button of Vegas. Instead of running toward a lounge act in her later years at some dusty faded casino, her career seemed spawned in a dusty faded casino...then the casino wised up and redid the play-bill with a talented performer like....Rebecca Black or Ke$ha.
It has nothing to do with her emotional state, drug use, non use, Federlining....it's just her voice. It sounded like 90% studio enhancement 10% her. The performers on Glee actually seem to care and put emotion into otherwise flat songs. They did such a great job the first time around I almost....almost wanted to hear the original. Then I thought...why ruin a rose with stinkweed.
I realize many people (chris crocker in that odd vid i fortunately never saw all of) adore her. I also know people who eat Limburger cheese. I adore cheese, yet I can not swallow Limburger cheese. I've bought it a few times to no avail. It's not a gag reflex, it feels like my throat closes and my mouth wants it out. I don't think Britney Spears is Limburger to my ears, I just don't like her voice.
I guess what it boils down to is.... Let there be Britney songs, but let them be done by Glee. :D
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
It's MY blog and I'll whine if I want to
Recently this little gem;
"The next time I read a blog, I hope that it doesnt disappoint me as much as this one. I mean, I know it was my choice to read, but I actually thought youd have something interesting to say. All I hear is a bunch of whining about something that you could fix if you werent too busy looking for attention." -Anonymous
appeared in my spam comments box.....where it rightfully belongs
As plainly stated at the top of the page... ^^^^waaay up there^^^^.........there will be whining, because
"It's my blog"
I appreciate comments both good and bad, but this is just plain mean. There is zero constuctive criticism. There is the cowardice of an Anonymous post, with a critique. No link to follow, so that I might bask in the glory of this witty critic's flowing prose on his or her own blog.
If it isn't constuctive...don't say it. If my blog is that bad...."don't let the door hit ya where the good Lord split ya" Please, dear bold anonymous critic, run fleetingly from my subpar blog. Life is too short to waste time on things, people, places, if they don't captivate or hold one's interest in even a small way. When I realize I don't like reading something I just stop. I don't think I've ever written a negative blog comment, because how can I possibly understand what the underlying reasons were for writing a "meltdown" entry.
If there are a few things you would like to correct me on, such as the color of the sky, Barbie's hair, or a caramel...please do. Currently my sky is black (night) the Barbie I am thinking of has blonde hair (malibu Barbie circa 1975) and my caramels appear tan. I may be off on accuracies such as a mid tan or something.
As far as my whiney little blog, I like it. It was started for me as an open diary to recall my life, to draw me out of a dark place I was heading. It gave me accountability so I couldn't just disappear. This blog reminds me of the journey I've been on since I first posted, where I'm going, and it forces me beyond myself. I've made admissions on here (before I actually realized myself) that have woken me up to the fact that I am still a bit down.
I'm glad I've discovered blogging. I'm sorry that brave, brave sir anonymous, brave sir anonymous ran away....before I could provide him/her a list of other diary like blogs. If these homespun, real-life blogs are his/her kryptonite then may he/she be contained.
I will sally forth with my whine fest.....oh and funny southern stories too! :)
"The next time I read a blog, I hope that it doesnt disappoint me as much as this one. I mean, I know it was my choice to read, but I actually thought youd have something interesting to say. All I hear is a bunch of whining about something that you could fix if you werent too busy looking for attention." -Anonymous
appeared in my spam comments box.....where it rightfully belongs
As plainly stated at the top of the page... ^^^^waaay up there^^^^.........there will be whining, because
"It's my blog"
I appreciate comments both good and bad, but this is just plain mean. There is zero constuctive criticism. There is the cowardice of an Anonymous post, with a critique. No link to follow, so that I might bask in the glory of this witty critic's flowing prose on his or her own blog.
If it isn't constuctive...don't say it. If my blog is that bad...."don't let the door hit ya where the good Lord split ya" Please, dear bold anonymous critic, run fleetingly from my subpar blog. Life is too short to waste time on things, people, places, if they don't captivate or hold one's interest in even a small way. When I realize I don't like reading something I just stop. I don't think I've ever written a negative blog comment, because how can I possibly understand what the underlying reasons were for writing a "meltdown" entry.
If there are a few things you would like to correct me on, such as the color of the sky, Barbie's hair, or a caramel...please do. Currently my sky is black (night) the Barbie I am thinking of has blonde hair (malibu Barbie circa 1975) and my caramels appear tan. I may be off on accuracies such as a mid tan or something.
As far as my whiney little blog, I like it. It was started for me as an open diary to recall my life, to draw me out of a dark place I was heading. It gave me accountability so I couldn't just disappear. This blog reminds me of the journey I've been on since I first posted, where I'm going, and it forces me beyond myself. I've made admissions on here (before I actually realized myself) that have woken me up to the fact that I am still a bit down.
I'm glad I've discovered blogging. I'm sorry that brave, brave sir anonymous, brave sir anonymous ran away....before I could provide him/her a list of other diary like blogs. If these homespun, real-life blogs are his/her kryptonite then may he/she be contained.
I will sally forth with my whine fest.....oh and funny southern stories too! :)
Thursday, September 27, 2012
Yawn....
Maybe it's the blues, maybe it's the weather, maybe it's my internal wiring....but I have no energy. I feel about as energetic as a throw pillow and as useful as a worn out afghan in a blizzard with no heat and no fireplace...in total...pretty non energetic and fairly useless.
I wonder why I feel so worn out, as I gaze at the sleeping Siamese curled up in my lap twitching as he dreams, I feel myself drift just a little. Could my little buddy be sucking out my energy? Is he using it to fuel his shiny ball chasing craze? Perhaps he's using it to power some cat time portal or some cat space probe. I trust him completely but there are times he seems deeper than a mere kitty sleeping on a lap.
I love fall and winter, honestly I do. I forget every year how season changes affect me. This is my second year rewired and I don't know what to expect on that front. Exhaustion seems to just "pop up" out of nowhere with this. I guess it really isn't totally out of nowhere. I can usually trace it to something, lack of sleep, weather, too much typing, too much of anything, medication, nightmares.
The mental fog is pretty substantial too. Both of them are hitting at the same time. The exhaustion and mental fog. The futility of raising a teenager is also mentally draining and for some reason mental stress makes my body feel worse. Odd or normal? I think it's normal that stress causes some fatigue. I think it's odd that I have no idea how to deal with this. I am assuming I'll figure it out eventually.
Yeah, ok this post is a bit whiney. This is one of those days I just want my Grandma, the multi colored afghan I used to peak through, the old green plaid sofa, the pheasant pillow, a cup of Campbell's Chicken noodle soup and Fantasy Island. If I could turn back time for just one day, I think it might be a day I didn't feel so great and my Grandma took care of me. I'd love to feel that care again. I know they guys care, but it's not the same. I'm responsible now and I'm not supposed to need to be taken care of. I'm supposed to take care OF things. On top of all the mental fog, physical exhaustion and general oddness I beat myself up emotionally on a daily basis because I just don't feel like I'm in charge of anything. I feel completely out of control. This can't be good for me. Somewhere, somehow, something has to give.....I'm pretty sure all of us go through this feeling drained thing. I think I'll perk up when the weather has settled, my kitty isn't sneezing so much and we start to decorate for Halloween. Mmmm Halloween, stolen candy from my son :) I can almost taste the tootsie rolls now!
Gee isn't this a gloomy post!? Aren't you glad you read it? At least it had Tootsie Rolls and Campbell's soup....but not together, that would just be gross.
I wonder why I feel so worn out, as I gaze at the sleeping Siamese curled up in my lap twitching as he dreams, I feel myself drift just a little. Could my little buddy be sucking out my energy? Is he using it to fuel his shiny ball chasing craze? Perhaps he's using it to power some cat time portal or some cat space probe. I trust him completely but there are times he seems deeper than a mere kitty sleeping on a lap.
I love fall and winter, honestly I do. I forget every year how season changes affect me. This is my second year rewired and I don't know what to expect on that front. Exhaustion seems to just "pop up" out of nowhere with this. I guess it really isn't totally out of nowhere. I can usually trace it to something, lack of sleep, weather, too much typing, too much of anything, medication, nightmares.
The mental fog is pretty substantial too. Both of them are hitting at the same time. The exhaustion and mental fog. The futility of raising a teenager is also mentally draining and for some reason mental stress makes my body feel worse. Odd or normal? I think it's normal that stress causes some fatigue. I think it's odd that I have no idea how to deal with this. I am assuming I'll figure it out eventually.
Yeah, ok this post is a bit whiney. This is one of those days I just want my Grandma, the multi colored afghan I used to peak through, the old green plaid sofa, the pheasant pillow, a cup of Campbell's Chicken noodle soup and Fantasy Island. If I could turn back time for just one day, I think it might be a day I didn't feel so great and my Grandma took care of me. I'd love to feel that care again. I know they guys care, but it's not the same. I'm responsible now and I'm not supposed to need to be taken care of. I'm supposed to take care OF things. On top of all the mental fog, physical exhaustion and general oddness I beat myself up emotionally on a daily basis because I just don't feel like I'm in charge of anything. I feel completely out of control. This can't be good for me. Somewhere, somehow, something has to give.....I'm pretty sure all of us go through this feeling drained thing. I think I'll perk up when the weather has settled, my kitty isn't sneezing so much and we start to decorate for Halloween. Mmmm Halloween, stolen candy from my son :) I can almost taste the tootsie rolls now!
Gee isn't this a gloomy post!? Aren't you glad you read it? At least it had Tootsie Rolls and Campbell's soup....but not together, that would just be gross.
Monday, September 17, 2012
Genre Favorites Blogfest
List your favorite genre of:
Movie
Music
Books
And a guilty pleasure genre from any of the three categories!
Starting from the bottom guilty pleasure so of course my favorite category
Books!!
Thrillers. I adore a good thriller. Robin Cook, Michael Palmer, Iris Johansen, James Patterson, Dan Brown, Clive Cussler, John Grisham. I suppose technically some of them would fall under mystery, thriller and or suspense. I had to pick one (i think) and the thriller label seemed just generic enough. I do read many genres, currently I am addicted to my son's Fantasy and Sci/Fi series Artemis Fowl (yes, it really is a great series) I've needed an excellent diversion. The creation of entire species and imagining a new world has been a great escape and wonderful guilty pleasure. I was lost after Hogwarts was no longer accepting my application for admission due to the close of the series. I escaped many nights into those dark passages never knowing what secret room I would discover or talking painting I would chat the night away with. Now, thanks to Robin Cook and Michael Palmer, I will be attempting to master home surgery for the novice. If anyone would like a practice appendectomy let me know. I can provide vodka as a sedative but no medication as I am not licenced for anything except for that breast feeding class I took in 98 and of course driving.
Music
Rock! I can listen to most anything and do, but my favorite genre is rock. I love punk, alternative, some country, folk..even opera at times, and some classical. But rock runs in my veins. If I played an instrument the first song I would want to play well would be Summer of 69, or Born in the USA, or I Love Rock and Roll, or Heartbreaker, or....oh so many songs so little time. Music is almost a religion for a southerner, but I can sing to myself. I can't write a great book to take me away.
Movies
Chillers, thrillers, horror. I'm not sure what good horror is called, not just the blood and guts stuff. I like a good plot, well rounded characters and chills that make you ponder for days. The good movies, that leave you with a feeling of uncertainty afterwards. Movies that make you think and reach inside to the places you don't go, because you're never sure what you might find if you do.
I hope I did this right!!
Sunday, September 16, 2012
Being a kid today must be horrible
I remember Saturday mornings. Oh how I loved Saturday mornings as a child! I would jump out of bed with the grace and beauty of a drunken rhino and charge down the hallway all disheveled at full tilt to the living room. I would zoom to the television like the misconcepted lemming to a cliff. I would then dial my channel (one of four!!!) and turn on the tv. Oh the feel of the knob in my chubby little hand! The wonder! The glory! The rapture! It was.....cartoon time!!!!!!
I would alternately, sit, stand or lie on the sofa singing along with such catchy theme songs as, "Marshall, Will and Holly on a routine expedition....(yada yada)....to laaand of the loooost". Who could forget that fuzzy kid? He always reminded me, for whatever misfit synapse, of what a glass of ginger ale might look like should it come to life. The sleestaks scared me. At night on the potty I would look at the shadow my feet cast hanging there; then being a morbid little cuss, I'd move my toes a certain way so the shadow reminded me vaguely of sleestak feet. I would then swear the sleestaks were coming and I'd run back to bed.
There was the Shazam/Isis hour...all I remember of that song is 'Shazam!, Isis' I think Isis turned around when her name was stage whispered. I know I would feel like I'd failed the week, if I didn't turn around at the right time. It was either that show or Wonder Woman. I really think it was Isis though.....i digress.
I would have a bowl of C'apn Crunch, while watching "Honeycomb's big yeah, yeah, yeah! It's not small no, no,no. Honeycomb's got a...."blah blah bite, crunch taste. I didn't eat it. I just wanted to go to the hide out! At one point there wasca cowboy for Corn Pops, of course the stoned bear for Sugar Crisp (later Super Golden Crisp)..."Hey Kool-Aid, Oh Yeah!", "Let's get Mikey! Yeah he won't eat anything! Hey, Mikey?! He likes it"
Then that new cartoon The Smurfs...it had narration in the first series. The narrator said "long, long ago. Deep in a forest.......(yada yada)..... And if you're good, you may just catch a glimpse of the smurfs"
There was "Hong Kong Phooey, number one super guy....." He wasn't so super, the poor cat did all the work! I loved 'opahraytah Rosemary'
"Flintstone's, meet the Flintstone's! They're the modern stone-age family....."
"Meet George Jetson! His boy Elroy! Daughter Judy! Jane his wife!....(catchy chopsticks song bit)...Jane! Get me off this crazy thing!" I still want a flying car! And a robot house cleaner!
Baggypants and the nitwits, savior faire is everywhere, yogi bear, i've forgotten so many and I keep remembering more as I write!
Then American Bandstand! Finally, The Soooouuuuul Train"
Then boredom set in....the day dragged on, until....
The Love Boat, soon will be making another run.....
and, Boss, de plane, de plane!.....
I am Mr. Roarke, your host.....welcome to Fantasy Island!
Geez I miss Saturday!!
Kids today have cartoons on demand. They should have to wait for them.....just like the good ole days.
I would alternately, sit, stand or lie on the sofa singing along with such catchy theme songs as, "Marshall, Will and Holly on a routine expedition....(yada yada)....to laaand of the loooost". Who could forget that fuzzy kid? He always reminded me, for whatever misfit synapse, of what a glass of ginger ale might look like should it come to life. The sleestaks scared me. At night on the potty I would look at the shadow my feet cast hanging there; then being a morbid little cuss, I'd move my toes a certain way so the shadow reminded me vaguely of sleestak feet. I would then swear the sleestaks were coming and I'd run back to bed.
There was the Shazam/Isis hour...all I remember of that song is 'Shazam!, Isis' I think Isis turned around when her name was stage whispered. I know I would feel like I'd failed the week, if I didn't turn around at the right time. It was either that show or Wonder Woman. I really think it was Isis though.....i digress.
I would have a bowl of C'apn Crunch, while watching "Honeycomb's big yeah, yeah, yeah! It's not small no, no,no. Honeycomb's got a...."blah blah bite, crunch taste. I didn't eat it. I just wanted to go to the hide out! At one point there wasca cowboy for Corn Pops, of course the stoned bear for Sugar Crisp (later Super Golden Crisp)..."Hey Kool-Aid, Oh Yeah!", "Let's get Mikey! Yeah he won't eat anything! Hey, Mikey?! He likes it"
Then that new cartoon The Smurfs...it had narration in the first series. The narrator said "long, long ago. Deep in a forest.......(yada yada)..... And if you're good, you may just catch a glimpse of the smurfs"
There was "Hong Kong Phooey, number one super guy....." He wasn't so super, the poor cat did all the work! I loved 'opahraytah Rosemary'
"Flintstone's, meet the Flintstone's! They're the modern stone-age family....."
"Meet George Jetson! His boy Elroy! Daughter Judy! Jane his wife!....(catchy chopsticks song bit)...Jane! Get me off this crazy thing!" I still want a flying car! And a robot house cleaner!
Baggypants and the nitwits, savior faire is everywhere, yogi bear, i've forgotten so many and I keep remembering more as I write!
Then American Bandstand! Finally, The Soooouuuuul Train"
Then boredom set in....the day dragged on, until....
The Love Boat, soon will be making another run.....
and, Boss, de plane, de plane!.....
I am Mr. Roarke, your host.....welcome to Fantasy Island!
Geez I miss Saturday!!
Kids today have cartoons on demand. They should have to wait for them.....just like the good ole days.
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