Christmas vacation is kicking my ass. Hard. And because I'm in way over my head over here and sick to death of whining about it, I'm going to give you all a break and answer five questions that SciFi Dad emailed to me a while ago. Want to play along? Just follow the instructions.
1. Were you in Boston when the Sox won in 2004? What was that like? - I was not in Boston, sadly, because I was 8 months pregnant with Boo. They didn't win in Boston, but I did see the celebrations that occurred all over the city, and the state, that night. I was home, with my son, and I cried. It was a long time coming and intensely emotional. As soon as they won, my phone started ringing with friends screaming with joy. The next day, I couldn't find a newspaper to save my life. It was incredible - people were walking around with goofy grins on their faces, high-fiving each other and saying "Can you believe it?" It still gives me chills every time I see a replay.
2. Are you still working at the Big Box store? What is Christmas like there? - I am still working at the Big Box Store and Christmas was busy. Very, very busy. One thing I noticed was the majority of people were paying with cash or debit cards. Easily 75% of my transactions were cash. Also, people en masse drive me crazy. They are lazy and messy and do things that boggle the mind. I could have lived without the person who went into the handicapped stall, crapped all over the toilet seat and then crawled out under the locked door, leaving it for us to clean up. Really could have done without that. It's safe to say that I am not enjoying working in retail. Not even a little bit.
3. If you could live anywhere, where would you live, and why? - I've lived in Indiana, Massachusetts, England and Georgia thus far and would have to say that my heart is here in the Bay State. I loved England and could see myself living there for a few years, but I'm sure I'd want to come home eventually. I love Massachusetts. If I had my way, I'd have a house on the ocean - one of those lovely, weathered homes you see, with a big deck and a fully-loaded kitchen so that I could entertain friends and family. If I were living in England, I'd go for a thatch-roofed cottage with an Aga cooker. I have obviously read too many Rosemund Pilcher books.
4. In haiku form, share one of your experiences giving birth. - Uhhhhhh.... I so suck at these things, but OK.
Birth was difficult
Babies were very stubborn
And that hasn't changed
5. What is the last blog you added to your reader, and why did you add it? - Zoopolis. I added it because it's the new blog of someone I have been reading for years and she's shutting down her old blog.
Want to be part of it? Follow these instructions:
1. Leave me a comment saying, "Interview me."
2. I will respond by emailing you five questions. I get to pick the questions.
3. You will update your blog with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.
Monday, December 29, 2008
Friday, December 19, 2008
Read, Kiddo, Read.
I don't remember when I learned to read. It was before my 4th birthday, according to my mother, and I took to it like the proverbial duck. I inhaled books. I had my own library card and read my way thru most of the children's section and was on to the more adult stuff by the time I was 8. I loved Agatha Christie and James Herriot, Frances Hodgson Burnett and Louisa May Alcott. I was engrossed by The Dragonriders of Pern series and the Little House books. My favourite birthday and Christmas presents were books, most of which I still have.
I've tried to instill that love of reading in my children, without a lot of success. My older two are not avid readers, although starting in high school, Alex became interested in a lot of civil war history. O has some learning disabilities that seem to prevent her from really enjoying books. Plus they both have that streak of "If mom says it's great, I'm not going to like it" going on.
The two little girls like to be read to for very short spurts of time, but at 4 and 2 years old, they don't have the attention spans for it. They do like to cart books around with them, though, which makes me hopeful that they'll start to get more into it as they get older.
Recently, MotherTalk asked me to review a website designed to get children interested in reading. It's called Read, Kiddo, Read and was started by James Patterson. Now, I will be the first to admit that I find the whole James Patterson mystique baffling. He doesn't write the kind of books that I enjoy. Not even a little. But this website is very cool and he has my admiration for starting it. There's a section of book suggestions that covers a great range of ages. There are forums and blogs, written by members and by the professionals involed there. There's a section for teachers, for grandparents and for parents.
It's a great little website. And it needs more traffic to really get the conversation and suggestions rolling in. So if books get you all worked up, if you want to talk books with other parents or grandparents, get yourself over there and register. Have a look around.
Anything that can get kids more interested in reading is, in my opinion, a Very Good Thing. And I think this website, with a little more traffic (which, hopefully, these MotherTalk reviews will generate) could be an amazing resource for anyone who knows a kid who needs a little encouragement in the reading department.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
99 Things
Stolen from Daysgoby.
Things you've already done: bold
Things you want to do: italicize
Things you haven't done and don't want to - leave in plain font
1. Started your own blog - Duh
2. Slept under the stars. - I was a Camp Fire Girl. It's the law.
3. Played in a band - Does singing in a vocal jazz group count? The only thing I play is the radio.
4. Visited Hawaii
5. Watched a meteor shower - plenty of times. Sometimes while sleeping under the stars.
6. Given more than you can afford to charity - Some day, when I actually have more than two dimes to rub together.
7. Been to Disneyland/world - Yes, but I was only in the 3rd grade and don't remember much. Except It's A Small World. Even then, I found that song annoying.
8. Climbed a mountain - yes, but one of the tiny ones near here.
9. Held a praying mantis
10. Sang a solo (in the shower) - and at concerts, back when I was young and unafraid. Or, unafraider than I am now.
11. Bungee jumped - Good god, no.
12. Visited Paris - Sort of. We were there for 12 hours, while traveling to Seville. I saw it by bus.
13. Watched a lightning storm at sea.
14. Taught yourself an art from scratch. - Knitting and cross-stitch and most recently, making stuff out of felted sweaters.
15. Adopted a child.
16. Had food poisoning.
17. Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty - it's a loooooong walk. But so worth it.
18. Grown your own vegetables. Termaters.
19. Seen the Mona Lisa in France
20. Slept on an overnight train. Yep. Lots of times, including one horrific trip (the same one from Paris to Seville.)
21. Had a pillow fight.
22. Hitch hiked. Not on your life.
23. Taken a sick day when you’re not ill. - Of course.
24. Built a snow fort
25. Held a lamb.
26. Gone skinny dipping.
27. Run a Marathon- are you mad?? (I'll just keep dgb's answer here)
28. Ridden in a gondola in Venice
29. Seen a total eclipse
30. Watched a sunrise or sunset.
31. Hit a home run - bwahahahahahahaha. My eye-hand coordination doesn't even allow me to hit the ball, never mind hit a home run.
32. Been on a cruise - I have no desire to do this whatsoever.
33. Seen Niagara Falls in person - yep. With the person from whom I swiped this meme.
34. Visited the birthplace of your ancestors - Some of them. England, Scotland and Germany, yes. Peru, not so much.
35. Seen an Amish community - also a Shaker community.
36. Taught yourself a new language.
37. Had enough money to be truly satisfied. - wouldn't that be nice?
38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person
39. Gone rock climbing. - no fucking way.
40. Seen Michelangelo’s David
41. Sung karaoke - Too chicken.
42. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt
43. Bought a stranger a meal in a restaurant.
44. Visited Africa
45. Walked on a beach by moonlight.
46. Been transported in an ambulance - yep, after fainting. In a bar. After half a beer. Fun times.
47. Had your portrait painted.
48. Gone deep sea fishing.
49. Seen the Sistine Chapel in person
50. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris
51. Gone scuba diving or snorkeling - off Key West. It was glorious.
52. Kissed in the rain
53. Played in the mud.
54. Gone to a drive-in theater. - oh, the things I used to get up to at the drive-in.
55. Been in a movie
56. Visited the Great Wall of China
57. Started a business
58. Taken a martial arts class
59. Visited Russia
60. Served at a soup kitchen
61. Sold Girl Scout Cookies - if, by Girl Scout Cookies, you mean Camp Fire Candy.
62. Gone whale watching.
63. Gotten flowers for no reason - no. Sad, huh?
64. Donated blood, platelets or plasma - but I can't anymore because they're afraid I might be a mad cow.
65. Gone sky diving - no fucking way.
66. Visited a Nazi Concentration Camp - although I don't know if I could make it thru the whole thing.
67. Bounced a check
68. Flown in a helicopter
69. Saved a favorite childhood toy
70. Visited the Lincoln Memorial
71. Eaten Caviar
72. Pieced a quilt
73. Stood in Times Square
74. Toured the Everglades
75. Been fired from a job
76. Seen the Changing of the Guard in London
77. Broken a bone - only fingers
78. Been on a speeding motorcycle
79. Seen the Grand Canyon in person
80. Published a book
81. Visited the Vatican
82. Bought a brand new car.
83. Walked in Jerusalem
84. Had your picture in the newspaper.
85. Read the entire Bible.
86. Visited the White House
87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating
88. Had chickenpox.
89. Saved someone’s life.
90. Sat on a jury
91. Met someone famous.
92. Joined a book club
93. Lost a loved one.
94. Had a baby. Four
95. Seen the Alamo in person
96. Swam in the Great Salt Lake
97. Been involved in a law suit
98. Owned a cell phone.
99. Been stung by a bee - Plenty of times - I like going barefoot.
Things you've already done: bold
Things you want to do: italicize
Things you haven't done and don't want to - leave in plain font
1. Started your own blog - Duh
2. Slept under the stars. - I was a Camp Fire Girl. It's the law.
3. Played in a band - Does singing in a vocal jazz group count? The only thing I play is the radio.
4. Visited Hawaii
5. Watched a meteor shower - plenty of times. Sometimes while sleeping under the stars.
6. Given more than you can afford to charity - Some day, when I actually have more than two dimes to rub together.
7. Been to Disneyland/world - Yes, but I was only in the 3rd grade and don't remember much. Except It's A Small World. Even then, I found that song annoying.
8. Climbed a mountain - yes, but one of the tiny ones near here.
9. Held a praying mantis
10. Sang a solo (in the shower) - and at concerts, back when I was young and unafraid. Or, unafraider than I am now.
11. Bungee jumped - Good god, no.
12. Visited Paris - Sort of. We were there for 12 hours, while traveling to Seville. I saw it by bus.
13. Watched a lightning storm at sea.
14. Taught yourself an art from scratch. - Knitting and cross-stitch and most recently, making stuff out of felted sweaters.
15. Adopted a child.
16. Had food poisoning.
17. Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty - it's a loooooong walk. But so worth it.
18. Grown your own vegetables. Termaters.
19. Seen the Mona Lisa in France
20. Slept on an overnight train. Yep. Lots of times, including one horrific trip (the same one from Paris to Seville.)
21. Had a pillow fight.
22. Hitch hiked. Not on your life.
23. Taken a sick day when you’re not ill. - Of course.
24. Built a snow fort
25. Held a lamb.
26. Gone skinny dipping.
27. Run a Marathon- are you mad?? (I'll just keep dgb's answer here)
28. Ridden in a gondola in Venice
29. Seen a total eclipse
30. Watched a sunrise or sunset.
31. Hit a home run - bwahahahahahahaha. My eye-hand coordination doesn't even allow me to hit the ball, never mind hit a home run.
32. Been on a cruise - I have no desire to do this whatsoever.
33. Seen Niagara Falls in person - yep. With the person from whom I swiped this meme.
34. Visited the birthplace of your ancestors - Some of them. England, Scotland and Germany, yes. Peru, not so much.
35. Seen an Amish community - also a Shaker community.
36. Taught yourself a new language.
37. Had enough money to be truly satisfied. - wouldn't that be nice?
38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person
39. Gone rock climbing. - no fucking way.
40. Seen Michelangelo’s David
41. Sung karaoke - Too chicken.
42. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt
43. Bought a stranger a meal in a restaurant.
44. Visited Africa
45. Walked on a beach by moonlight.
46. Been transported in an ambulance - yep, after fainting. In a bar. After half a beer. Fun times.
47. Had your portrait painted.
48. Gone deep sea fishing.
49. Seen the Sistine Chapel in person
50. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris
51. Gone scuba diving or snorkeling - off Key West. It was glorious.
52. Kissed in the rain
53. Played in the mud.
54. Gone to a drive-in theater. - oh, the things I used to get up to at the drive-in.
55. Been in a movie
56. Visited the Great Wall of China
57. Started a business
58. Taken a martial arts class
59. Visited Russia
60. Served at a soup kitchen
61. Sold Girl Scout Cookies - if, by Girl Scout Cookies, you mean Camp Fire Candy.
62. Gone whale watching.
63. Gotten flowers for no reason - no. Sad, huh?
64. Donated blood, platelets or plasma - but I can't anymore because they're afraid I might be a mad cow.
65. Gone sky diving - no fucking way.
66. Visited a Nazi Concentration Camp - although I don't know if I could make it thru the whole thing.
67. Bounced a check
68. Flown in a helicopter
69. Saved a favorite childhood toy
70. Visited the Lincoln Memorial
71. Eaten Caviar
72. Pieced a quilt
73. Stood in Times Square
74. Toured the Everglades
75. Been fired from a job
76. Seen the Changing of the Guard in London
77. Broken a bone - only fingers
78. Been on a speeding motorcycle
79. Seen the Grand Canyon in person
80. Published a book
81. Visited the Vatican
82. Bought a brand new car.
83. Walked in Jerusalem
84. Had your picture in the newspaper.
85. Read the entire Bible.
86. Visited the White House
87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating
88. Had chickenpox.
89. Saved someone’s life.
90. Sat on a jury
91. Met someone famous.
92. Joined a book club
93. Lost a loved one.
94. Had a baby. Four
95. Seen the Alamo in person
96. Swam in the Great Salt Lake
97. Been involved in a law suit
98. Owned a cell phone.
99. Been stung by a bee - Plenty of times - I like going barefoot.
Tuesday, December 09, 2008
Things I Shouldn't Do Late At Night
Listen to Sarah McLachlan's Surfacing after having a few drinks.
Try to read about depression.
Blog.
I was on the phone with a friend last night, talking to her about my marriage and my depression and was saying that I didn't know if my marriage was affecting my depression or if my depression was affecting my marriage. She said that was a total mindfuck. It didn't really hit me until today, but I think she's right. Maybe it's not him, maybe it's just the depression and maybe I should just back the fuck off for a little bit.
Try to read about depression.
Blog.
I was on the phone with a friend last night, talking to her about my marriage and my depression and was saying that I didn't know if my marriage was affecting my depression or if my depression was affecting my marriage. She said that was a total mindfuck. It didn't really hit me until today, but I think she's right. Maybe it's not him, maybe it's just the depression and maybe I should just back the fuck off for a little bit.
Monday, December 08, 2008
Selling The Drama
The Shuffleupagus Anti Meme. Courtesy of Poppy.
1. Put your iTunes or MP3 player on shuffle.
2. For each question, press the next button to get your answer
YOU MUST WRITE THAT SONG NAME DOWN NO MATTER HOW SILLY IT SOUNDS!
IF SOMEONE SAYS "IS THIS OKAY" YOU SAY?
Testify - Rage Against The Machine
WHAT WOULD BEST DESCRIBE YOUR PERSONALITY?
Get Rhythm - Johnny Cash
WHAT DO YOU LIKE IN A GUY/GIRL?
Goodnight, Travel Well - The Killers
WHAT IS YOUR LIFE'S PURPOSE?
Through Your Hands - John Hiatt
WHAT IS YOUR MOTTO?
Story Of A Girl - 9 Days
WHAT DO YOUR FRIENDS THINK OF YOU?
Just A Girl - No Doubt (*snort*)
WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT VERY OFTEN?
Crush With Eyeliner - R.E.M.
WHAT IS 2+2?
Pushing Me Away - Jonas Brothers (yeah, guess who else downloads stuff to iTunes??)
WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR BEST FRIEND?
Last Splash - The Breeders
WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
Wake Up - Rage Against The Machine
WHAT IS YOUR LIFE STORY?
Confusion - New Order (again with the *snort*)
WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BE WHEN YOU GROW UP?
AM Radio - Everclear
WHAT DO YOU THINK WHEN YOU SEE THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
Hot 'n' Cold - Katy Perry
WHAT DO YOUR PARENTS THINK OF YOU?
Shoulda Been A Cowboy - Toby Keith
WHAT WILL YOU DANCE TO AT YOUR WEDDING?
Iris - Goo Goo Dolls
WHAT WILL THEY PLAY AT YOUR FUNERAL?
How Do You Like Me Now? - Toby Keith (I swear, I'm not a Toby Keith fan.)
WHAT IS YOUR HOBBY/INTEREST?
Ray of Light - Madonna
WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR FRIENDS?
Alone + Easy Target - Foo Fighters
WHAT'S THE WORST THING THAT COULD HAPPEN?
Float On - Modest Mouse
HOW WILL YOU DIE?
Something To It - Great Big Sea
WHAT IS THE ONE THING YOU REGRET?
Crazy - Barenaked Ladies
WHAT MAKES YOU LAUGH?
All Along The Watchtower - Jimmy Hendrix
WHAT MAKES YOU CRY?
Say Hello, Wave Goodbye - David Gray (huh. Good one.)
WILL YOU EVER GET MARRIED?
Fish Heads - Barnes and Barnes
WHAT SCARES YOU THE MOST?
My Funny Valentine - Elvis Costello
IF YOU COULD GO BACK IN TIME, WHAT WOULD YOU CHANGE?
Wild Mountain Honey - Steve Miller Band
WHAT HURTS RIGHT NOW?
Stay With Me - Rod Stewart
WHAT WILL YOU POST THIS AS?
Selling The Drama - Live
1. Put your iTunes or MP3 player on shuffle.
2. For each question, press the next button to get your answer
YOU MUST WRITE THAT SONG NAME DOWN NO MATTER HOW SILLY IT SOUNDS!
IF SOMEONE SAYS "IS THIS OKAY" YOU SAY?
Testify - Rage Against The Machine
WHAT WOULD BEST DESCRIBE YOUR PERSONALITY?
Get Rhythm - Johnny Cash
WHAT DO YOU LIKE IN A GUY/GIRL?
Goodnight, Travel Well - The Killers
WHAT IS YOUR LIFE'S PURPOSE?
Through Your Hands - John Hiatt
WHAT IS YOUR MOTTO?
Story Of A Girl - 9 Days
WHAT DO YOUR FRIENDS THINK OF YOU?
Just A Girl - No Doubt (*snort*)
WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT VERY OFTEN?
Crush With Eyeliner - R.E.M.
WHAT IS 2+2?
Pushing Me Away - Jonas Brothers (yeah, guess who else downloads stuff to iTunes??)
WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR BEST FRIEND?
Last Splash - The Breeders
WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
Wake Up - Rage Against The Machine
WHAT IS YOUR LIFE STORY?
Confusion - New Order (again with the *snort*)
WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BE WHEN YOU GROW UP?
AM Radio - Everclear
WHAT DO YOU THINK WHEN YOU SEE THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
Hot 'n' Cold - Katy Perry
WHAT DO YOUR PARENTS THINK OF YOU?
Shoulda Been A Cowboy - Toby Keith
WHAT WILL YOU DANCE TO AT YOUR WEDDING?
Iris - Goo Goo Dolls
WHAT WILL THEY PLAY AT YOUR FUNERAL?
How Do You Like Me Now? - Toby Keith (I swear, I'm not a Toby Keith fan.)
WHAT IS YOUR HOBBY/INTEREST?
Ray of Light - Madonna
WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR FRIENDS?
Alone + Easy Target - Foo Fighters
WHAT'S THE WORST THING THAT COULD HAPPEN?
Float On - Modest Mouse
HOW WILL YOU DIE?
Something To It - Great Big Sea
WHAT IS THE ONE THING YOU REGRET?
Crazy - Barenaked Ladies
WHAT MAKES YOU LAUGH?
All Along The Watchtower - Jimmy Hendrix
WHAT MAKES YOU CRY?
Say Hello, Wave Goodbye - David Gray (huh. Good one.)
WILL YOU EVER GET MARRIED?
Fish Heads - Barnes and Barnes
WHAT SCARES YOU THE MOST?
My Funny Valentine - Elvis Costello
IF YOU COULD GO BACK IN TIME, WHAT WOULD YOU CHANGE?
Wild Mountain Honey - Steve Miller Band
WHAT HURTS RIGHT NOW?
Stay With Me - Rod Stewart
WHAT WILL YOU POST THIS AS?
Selling The Drama - Live
Thursday, December 04, 2008
Confession
I heard these songs on the radio the other day, as I was driving, and was singing at the top of my lungs.
I had a blast....
I had a blast....
Tuesday, December 02, 2008
Soul Butter
Boo's new favourite song.
What? It's not called Soul Butter? Well, don't tell her that. She's been singing it ad nauseum.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
No Turkey Died For Me
Shamelessly stolen from Her Bad Mother.I can't eat turkey. It gives me a migraine. Every year, I have all the other stuff - not that I'm complaining, because, really, who complains over having to eat more mashed potatoes, more stuffing and more cranberry sauce? Not me, that's for damned skippy.
This year, though, is different. This year, we didn't go anywhere for Thanksgiving. This year, I had to drive That Canadian Boy I Married to the airport for a 6 a.m. flight. I got up at 3:45 a.m., people. Three-forty-fucking-five.
This year, I'm roasting a chicken, thanks to Joke's recipe, or what I can remember of it, having lost the original in a move, I made a pumpkin pie, I mashed potatoes, I'm making carrots with cranberries and some stuffing. I got to watch the entire Macy's Day Parade (is it only me that calls it that? Because I swear that's what it was called when I was a kid) and tonight I'll have the television all to myself. Note: There will be no football.
And then tomorrow, I get to be at Big Box Store for 5:45 in the freakin' morning, to deal with all the lunatics who will run thru the place like Visigoths on speed.
I'll just keep singing this, though. Because this? Was the highlight of my morning.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Four
Four years ago, on Thanksgiving morning, I woke up early because I had to pee. After finishing my business, I walked back to the bedroom and felt this pop. And then a gush. And then we were on our way to the hospital, where, 10 hours later, this little muffinhead made her appearance in the world.
Expressing her opinion on the whole affair.
I heartily concurred. Umbilical cord wrapped
around her neck four times, blue baby, no crying
for several, long, heart-stopping minutes, and then
she was fine. Pink, crying, letting the world know
just how she felt.
Times were tough, but we did draw the line at baby soup...
...and she made it to her first birthday.
Two years old and a bit shell-shocked at the
arrival of the usurper a few months earlier.
At three, she was a ham for the camera.
Which hasn't changed in the past year.
Expressing her opinion on the whole affair. I heartily concurred. Umbilical cord wrapped
around her neck four times, blue baby, no crying
for several, long, heart-stopping minutes, and then
she was fine. Pink, crying, letting the world know
just how she felt.
Times were tough, but we did draw the line at baby soup...
...and she made it to her first birthday.
Two years old and a bit shell-shocked at the arrival of the usurper a few months earlier.
At three, she was a ham for the camera.
Which hasn't changed in the past year. Happy birthday my Boo. Even though you drive me mad at times, you still make my heart sing.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Take Five
The girls woke us up at the ass-crack of dawn this morning. I think they need to go to bed later - we've been putting them down around 6:30, but tonight we're moving it back to 7. Being woken up at 5:30 on a Sunday morning just isn't cool.
After vainly attempting to get them to sleep with us for a little bit, we surrendered and went downstairs. We had breakfast and then I remembered that I am now the proud owner of a subscription to the Sunday New York Times. So I sprinted out to the front walk, retrieved my shiny new paper and went inside.
That Canadian Boy I Married had made coffee, bless his little cotton socks, and we sat down with our steaming cups.
Then we drove ourselves half-crazy by trying to solve the crossword puzzle. We're still not done, but we're trying. Together. Which was kind of nice.
We listened to a little of this (among other tunes) and had a thoroughly relaxing morning together.
And it was very, very nice. Nice has been in short supply around here lately.
After vainly attempting to get them to sleep with us for a little bit, we surrendered and went downstairs. We had breakfast and then I remembered that I am now the proud owner of a subscription to the Sunday New York Times. So I sprinted out to the front walk, retrieved my shiny new paper and went inside.
That Canadian Boy I Married had made coffee, bless his little cotton socks, and we sat down with our steaming cups.
Then we drove ourselves half-crazy by trying to solve the crossword puzzle. We're still not done, but we're trying. Together. Which was kind of nice.
We listened to a little of this (among other tunes) and had a thoroughly relaxing morning together.
And it was very, very nice. Nice has been in short supply around here lately.
Monday, November 17, 2008
Killing Me (Not So) Softly
I got home from work on Saturday or Sunday (the weekends are a blur these days) to this:
A very blurry shot, but Boo had chopped off The Bug's hair, to about an inch and a half. All over the top of her head. She also has this interesting half-long, half short look going on in the back. This on a girl who didn't have a lot of hair to begin with. Boo also chopped her own hair, but I don't have the heart to post that particular debacle. All I can say is it's a good thing I got a $10 off coupon to the salon the other day. Oy.
The Bug decided that the Daddy doll needed to spend some time in the oven. With his paintbrush (as you do). Unfortunately, the live Mum didn't discover this until she'd already turned on said oven to make dinner tonight.
And just to round it all out, Boo decided to color her hand red. Not with any old marker, though. With the permanent marker.
In other news, Friday I became the answer to Life, The Universe and Everything. If this weekend is anything to go by, it's looking to be a totally craptastic year.
Send vodka.
A very blurry shot, but Boo had chopped off The Bug's hair, to about an inch and a half. All over the top of her head. She also has this interesting half-long, half short look going on in the back. This on a girl who didn't have a lot of hair to begin with. Boo also chopped her own hair, but I don't have the heart to post that particular debacle. All I can say is it's a good thing I got a $10 off coupon to the salon the other day. Oy.
The Bug decided that the Daddy doll needed to spend some time in the oven. With his paintbrush (as you do). Unfortunately, the live Mum didn't discover this until she'd already turned on said oven to make dinner tonight.
And just to round it all out, Boo decided to color her hand red. Not with any old marker, though. With the permanent marker.
In other news, Friday I became the answer to Life, The Universe and Everything. If this weekend is anything to go by, it's looking to be a totally craptastic year.
Send vodka.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Open Letters To Big Box Store Guests
Dear Female Guests,
When you have nails like this:
How do you pick up this?
More importantly, how do you: zip your jeans, wipe your ass or, well, do anything?
Sincerely,
Curious
Dear Appearance-Concious Guests,
You know that thing that looks like a big mirror? The one that I see you combing your hair in, checking yourself out in, adjusting your bra/boobs/balls in? Yeah, not really a mirror. Really? One way glass. With an office behind it. You might want to think before doing that again.
Sincerely,
Cringing On Your Behalf
Dear Talkative Guests,
Could you please hang up/stop talking/stop texting when you're paying for your crappe? I'm trying to make your transaction quick and painless for both of us, but when you wave me off or completely ignore me in order to chat, it really pisses me off. I'm going to put the shampoo in with your shirts and your canned goods on top of your bread if you don't knock it the fuck off. Also, I don't really want to hear the particulars of your divorce/Aunt Maude's hemhorroid surgery/your best friend's indiscretions. Really. Don't. Want. To. Know.
Sincerely,
Do People Have No Boundaries Anymore?
Dear Guests With Young Children,
Why do you have them in the store at 10 at night? They're nodding off in the carriage, they're whining and shrieking and exhausted. Take them home. And to the guest who let their child completely tear apart everything in the aisle last night and then just smiled at me and walked off? Thanks. I wanted to stay an extra 15 minutes in order to clean up after your little heathen. Shopping is not a family expedition, especially not at 10 at night.
Sincerely,
Sincerely Annoyed
Dear Little Girl,
Last night, as I pondered the pen aisle, I was coughing. You came up behind me and said "Are you OK?" and patted me on the back. You? Rock.
Sincerely,
Major Bedhead
When you have nails like this:
How do you pick up this?
More importantly, how do you: zip your jeans, wipe your ass or, well, do anything?
Sincerely,
Curious
Dear Appearance-Concious Guests,
You know that thing that looks like a big mirror? The one that I see you combing your hair in, checking yourself out in, adjusting your bra/boobs/balls in? Yeah, not really a mirror. Really? One way glass. With an office behind it. You might want to think before doing that again.
Sincerely,
Cringing On Your Behalf
Dear Talkative Guests,
Could you please hang up/stop talking/stop texting when you're paying for your crappe? I'm trying to make your transaction quick and painless for both of us, but when you wave me off or completely ignore me in order to chat, it really pisses me off. I'm going to put the shampoo in with your shirts and your canned goods on top of your bread if you don't knock it the fuck off. Also, I don't really want to hear the particulars of your divorce/Aunt Maude's hemhorroid surgery/your best friend's indiscretions. Really. Don't. Want. To. Know.
Sincerely,
Do People Have No Boundaries Anymore?
Dear Guests With Young Children,
Why do you have them in the store at 10 at night? They're nodding off in the carriage, they're whining and shrieking and exhausted. Take them home. And to the guest who let their child completely tear apart everything in the aisle last night and then just smiled at me and walked off? Thanks. I wanted to stay an extra 15 minutes in order to clean up after your little heathen. Shopping is not a family expedition, especially not at 10 at night.
Sincerely,
Sincerely Annoyed
Dear Little Girl,
Last night, as I pondered the pen aisle, I was coughing. You came up behind me and said "Are you OK?" and patted me on the back. You? Rock.
Sincerely,
Major Bedhead
Monday, November 10, 2008
Proposition 8
I've been wanting to write about this for days, and then Keith Olbermann goes and says what I've been thinking. Only, y'know, better.
Oh Look, There's The End Of The Rope
I had a bit of a discussion with That Canadian Boy I Married yesterday. I explained to him that when he kept putting off doing things or refused to help around the house, it did nothing to endear me to him and, in fact, made me resent him. Why I had to explain this to him is a mystery, but there you go, I did.
It's not like he leaves his shoes in the living room for a day or two. He leaves stuff everywhere. He left his rather expensive golf clubs and golf bag (which held his wedding ring, another very, very sore spot) in the yard for two months. I would ask/nag/yell about once a week for him to get them into the cellar or the shed or someplace out of the rain. Finally, on Thursday, I told him that if they weren't moved by Friday, I was listing them on Craigslist. They were put away that night. I shouldn't have to threaten drastic measures in order to get simple things like that done, but that's what it takes, almost every time.
Stuff like this happens all the time. All. The. Time. It's maddening and I find it very selfish and thoughtless. There's also the matter of him not doing anything around the house on the weekends, which is when I work the most hours. It pisses me off no end to come home after work to find that the sofa holds a permanent impression of his ass, that nothing has been picked up and no dishes have been washed. Last night, when I came in after working 9 hours, he smiled and said "Welcome to the disaster zone." And then he fell asleep on the couch. He may as well have slapped me across the face as I walked in the door.
The kitchen was a mess - O had made cookies and not cleaned up. TCBIM had made dinner and not cleaned up. There was ketchup all over the kitchen table and when I moved a picture I had left on the table, water had been spilled, gotten underneath it and left a huge white mark on the table. Not to mention, damaged the picture.
Should I have left the picture on the table? No, I shouldn't have. I had done grocery shopping in the morning, though, and was cleaning out the hutch and before I knew it, I had to get to work. So I left it, telling TCBIM that I would clean it up when I got home. To me, it would have been common sense to move the picture when the girls were eating - they're toddlers, they're messy. And if they'd spilled something, he should have wiped it up.
Instead, all of this stuff just gets left for me to do. And it's infuriating. I work about 25 - 30 hours a week and I take care of the kids. I do all the laundry, I do the majority of the cooking and cleaning and it's pissing me off that when he is home, he just sits on the couch watching football. He doesn't interact with the kids that much, except to feed them. He didn't even give them a bath last night.
Today, instead of hanging out with the girls, who all have the day off, I'll be cleaning up the mess. O will be cleaning the kitchen, since she made the mess in there, but I'm going to have to clean up the living room and dining room because I can't live with this level of mess. It's gross.
When I try to explain how all of this makes me feel, he doesn't get it. He says he doesn't mean to make me feel bad, that he doesn't want me to resent him, but I do. So I spend my time on the computer because I don't want to talk to him. I don't want to be nice to him when he can't be bothered to treat me with any kind of respect. He just says that he doesn't see a problem, that he doesn't mean for his actions (or lack thereof) to make me feel the way I feel and that seems to be it. If he doesn't have a problem, then there is no problem.
This is an ongoing thing with us and I don't know what to do about it. I've talked to my therapist about it and she says to talk to him, to tell him how I feel, but it's not doing anything. I feel like I'm beating my head against a wall and it's wearing me out. His complete obliviousness has me confused and sad.
I don't know how much longer I can go on like this.
It's not like he leaves his shoes in the living room for a day or two. He leaves stuff everywhere. He left his rather expensive golf clubs and golf bag (which held his wedding ring, another very, very sore spot) in the yard for two months. I would ask/nag/yell about once a week for him to get them into the cellar or the shed or someplace out of the rain. Finally, on Thursday, I told him that if they weren't moved by Friday, I was listing them on Craigslist. They were put away that night. I shouldn't have to threaten drastic measures in order to get simple things like that done, but that's what it takes, almost every time.
Stuff like this happens all the time. All. The. Time. It's maddening and I find it very selfish and thoughtless. There's also the matter of him not doing anything around the house on the weekends, which is when I work the most hours. It pisses me off no end to come home after work to find that the sofa holds a permanent impression of his ass, that nothing has been picked up and no dishes have been washed. Last night, when I came in after working 9 hours, he smiled and said "Welcome to the disaster zone." And then he fell asleep on the couch. He may as well have slapped me across the face as I walked in the door.
The kitchen was a mess - O had made cookies and not cleaned up. TCBIM had made dinner and not cleaned up. There was ketchup all over the kitchen table and when I moved a picture I had left on the table, water had been spilled, gotten underneath it and left a huge white mark on the table. Not to mention, damaged the picture.
Should I have left the picture on the table? No, I shouldn't have. I had done grocery shopping in the morning, though, and was cleaning out the hutch and before I knew it, I had to get to work. So I left it, telling TCBIM that I would clean it up when I got home. To me, it would have been common sense to move the picture when the girls were eating - they're toddlers, they're messy. And if they'd spilled something, he should have wiped it up.
Instead, all of this stuff just gets left for me to do. And it's infuriating. I work about 25 - 30 hours a week and I take care of the kids. I do all the laundry, I do the majority of the cooking and cleaning and it's pissing me off that when he is home, he just sits on the couch watching football. He doesn't interact with the kids that much, except to feed them. He didn't even give them a bath last night.
Today, instead of hanging out with the girls, who all have the day off, I'll be cleaning up the mess. O will be cleaning the kitchen, since she made the mess in there, but I'm going to have to clean up the living room and dining room because I can't live with this level of mess. It's gross.
When I try to explain how all of this makes me feel, he doesn't get it. He says he doesn't mean to make me feel bad, that he doesn't want me to resent him, but I do. So I spend my time on the computer because I don't want to talk to him. I don't want to be nice to him when he can't be bothered to treat me with any kind of respect. He just says that he doesn't see a problem, that he doesn't mean for his actions (or lack thereof) to make me feel the way I feel and that seems to be it. If he doesn't have a problem, then there is no problem.
This is an ongoing thing with us and I don't know what to do about it. I've talked to my therapist about it and she says to talk to him, to tell him how I feel, but it's not doing anything. I feel like I'm beating my head against a wall and it's wearing me out. His complete obliviousness has me confused and sad.
I don't know how much longer I can go on like this.
Sunday, November 09, 2008
Sing A Happy Tune
Probably not too surprisingly, I've been in an incredibly good mood for the last, oh, five days or so. I smile at people - me! Smiling! At random strangers! Pretty soon I'll have fucking bluebirds following me around.
Anyway. What with all the smiling and shit, I thought I'd put up a few grin-inducing (or cringe-inducing, depending upon your musical preferences) songs.
I'd forgotten how happy it makes me feel to hear these songs.
Don't Go - Hothouse Flowers
Happy Hour - The Housemartins
Song 2 - Blur
19/2000 (Soulchild Remix) - Gorillaz
Rudie Can't Fail - The Clash
Only You - Yazoo
And finally, because I do love me some cheese, I give you:
Susudio - Phil Collins
Anyway. What with all the smiling and shit, I thought I'd put up a few grin-inducing (or cringe-inducing, depending upon your musical preferences) songs.
I'd forgotten how happy it makes me feel to hear these songs.
Don't Go - Hothouse Flowers
Happy Hour - The Housemartins
Song 2 - Blur
19/2000 (Soulchild Remix) - Gorillaz
Rudie Can't Fail - The Clash
Only You - Yazoo
And finally, because I do love me some cheese, I give you:
Susudio - Phil Collins
Thursday, November 06, 2008
Exhale
I think it's finally starting to sink in. I'm still stunned.
I took Boo with me to vote on Tuesday. Our polling place is only a couple of blocks away so we walked over and on the way, I explained what I was doing, that I was voting for Barack Obama to be the next President. The place was crowded but there were only a few people ahead of me in line. I got my ballot, filled it in and let Boo feed it into the optical reader. As we were walking out of the place, she turned to me and said "So, where's the water, Mama? I thought we were going boating with Barack Obama."
I spent a long time on the phone on Election Night with daysgoby. For much of the time, once the election was called, she and I were silent, watching the crowds gather, watching this thing become a reality, occasionally saying "Oh my god, I can't believe it." It was intense to watch it with someone else who feels as passionately about politics as I do.
And then yesterday, I was sick. Feverish, achey, the whole nine yards. I've had a horrible cold for two weeks, so I don't know if I'm now getting something else or what the story was, but I spent the day on the couch, huddled under blankets, trying to keep down weak tea and toast. My mother was out for a visit, thankfully, which was a huge help. I'm still feeling a bit funky today, but at least I'm functional.
It's funny. I really never thought we'd win. It does seem like a ridiculous comparison, but I've looked at this race the way I used to look at the Red Sox. It always seemed so close, just within our grasp, but then we'd blow it somehow. I was so afraid this was going to happen with this election, that we'd be the 2003 Red Sox and instead we were the 2004 Red Sox and just like that year, I don't know what to do with myself. It's been so long since I've backed the winning team. Man, it feels good.
Tuesday, November 04, 2008
Election Day
Finally.
Dixville Notch results are in:
John McCain - 6
Ralph Nader - 0
Barack Obama - 15
I'm not going to be able to breath until this is over.
Dixville Notch results are in:
John McCain - 6
Ralph Nader - 0
Barack Obama - 15
I'm not going to be able to breath until this is over.
Monday, November 03, 2008
Loads o' Links
In an effort to distract myself from tomorrow's all-day, all-night nail biting marathon, I've been perusing the internets.
The Meyers-Briggs personality test is always a fun one, and scarily rather accurate for me.
I found this old Frontline program via Stumbleupon. It's fascinating.
Play with your food.
All your grammar issues sorted.
Iconic photographs.
Human clock.
Table of Condiments.
And this just made me laugh.
I'm wrapping up this silly post with two videos:
The Meyers-Briggs personality test is always a fun one, and scarily rather accurate for me.
I found this old Frontline program via Stumbleupon. It's fascinating.
Play with your food.
All your grammar issues sorted.
Iconic photographs.
Human clock.
Table of Condiments.
And this just made me laugh.
I'm wrapping up this silly post with two videos:
I know what I'm doing tomorrow. Do you?
Thursday, October 30, 2008
One Word
Only Type One Word .. first word that comes to mind (Not as easy as you might think!).
1. Where is your cell phone? Deceased
2. Your significant other? Josh's
3. Your Hair? Brown
4. Your Skin? Olive
5. Your mother? Maddening
6. Your favorite thing? Books
7. Your dream last night? Obamalust
8. Your favorite drink? Guinness
9. Your dream/goal? Published
10. The room you're in? Office
11. Your ex? Asshole
12. Your fear? Spiders
13.Where do you want to be in 6 years? Published
14.Where were you last night? Home
15.What you're not? Undepressed
16.Muffins? Sure!
17.One of your wish list items? Airbook
18.Where you grew up? Auburn
19.The last thing you did? Typed
20.What are you wearing? clothing
21.Your TV? On
22.Your pets? Annoying
23. Your computer? POS
24. Your life? unfinished
25. Your mood? meh
26. Missing someone? No
27. Your car? Mazda5
28. Something you're not wearing? bra
29. Favorite Store? DSW
30. Your summer? Long
31. Like someone? no
32. Your favorite color? aubergine
33. When is the last time you laughed? today
34. Last time you cried? Morning
35. Who will respond to this? Dunno
36. Who's Answers are you anxious to see? Dunno
1. Where is your cell phone? Deceased
2. Your significant other? Josh's
3. Your Hair? Brown
4. Your Skin? Olive
5. Your mother? Maddening
6. Your favorite thing? Books
7. Your dream last night? Obamalust
8. Your favorite drink? Guinness
9. Your dream/goal? Published
10. The room you're in? Office
11. Your ex? Asshole
12. Your fear? Spiders
13.Where do you want to be in 6 years? Published
14.Where were you last night? Home
15.What you're not? Undepressed
16.Muffins? Sure!
17.One of your wish list items? Airbook
18.Where you grew up? Auburn
19.The last thing you did? Typed
20.What are you wearing? clothing
21.Your TV? On
22.Your pets? Annoying
23. Your computer? POS
24. Your life? unfinished
25. Your mood? meh
26. Missing someone? No
27. Your car? Mazda5
28. Something you're not wearing? bra
29. Favorite Store? DSW
30. Your summer? Long
31. Like someone? no
32. Your favorite color? aubergine
33. When is the last time you laughed? today
34. Last time you cried? Morning
35. Who will respond to this? Dunno
36. Who's Answers are you anxious to see? Dunno
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
The Return Of Sparkle
The Bug has this large 2" square yellow die. I don't know where it came from, but she fucking LOVES it. Carries it with her everywhere. She calls it "My Sparkle." Why? No clue. She's two, that's why.
Anyway, a couple of weeks ago, Sparkle disappeared. I looked in our room, in her bed, under the sofa, all the usual places, but didn't turn it up. Oh, the despair. Every day, at least three times a day, she looks at me mournfully and says "Sparkle gone, Mama. Sparkle gone." She was a very, very, very sad little girl. A girl with no Sparkle.
Today That Canadian Boy I Married was putting his shoes on to get ready to leave the house and lo and behold, there was Sparkle, nestled down in the toe of his shoe.
He brought it out to her and she just about went insane. I think every blood vessel and corpuscle was smiling, she was so happy.
Anyway, a couple of weeks ago, Sparkle disappeared. I looked in our room, in her bed, under the sofa, all the usual places, but didn't turn it up. Oh, the despair. Every day, at least three times a day, she looks at me mournfully and says "Sparkle gone, Mama. Sparkle gone." She was a very, very, very sad little girl. A girl with no Sparkle.
Today That Canadian Boy I Married was putting his shoes on to get ready to leave the house and lo and behold, there was Sparkle, nestled down in the toe of his shoe.
He brought it out to her and she just about went insane. I think every blood vessel and corpuscle was smiling, she was so happy.
That, ladies and jelly spoons, is a smile of glee. And a very messy table.
Please to ignore the Very Messy Child. When she gets into her yoghurt,
she really gets into her yoghurt.
Please to ignore the Very Messy Child. When she gets into her yoghurt,she really gets into her yoghurt.
Friday, October 24, 2008
This I Promise
To my children:
I am sure (oh, hell, I know, who are we kidding here) that I have broken promises to you and for that, I am sorry. I am sure that I will do it again and all I can offer, again, are my apologies, for whatever they're worth. I am human and we humans tend to fail, often and sometimes spectacularly.
But I can promise you two things, things that I will never back out of. Two promises that will never let you down.
I promise that I will always love you, no matter what. Even when you're driving meto drink distraction, I will always, always love you.
Also, I promise that you will never be eaten by a dinosaur.
This post brought to you by The Bug's latest fear, which seems to involve dinosaurs lurking around every corner, just waiting to pounce.
I am sure (oh, hell, I know, who are we kidding here) that I have broken promises to you and for that, I am sorry. I am sure that I will do it again and all I can offer, again, are my apologies, for whatever they're worth. I am human and we humans tend to fail, often and sometimes spectacularly.
But I can promise you two things, things that I will never back out of. Two promises that will never let you down.
I promise that I will always love you, no matter what. Even when you're driving me
Also, I promise that you will never be eaten by a dinosaur.
This post brought to you by The Bug's latest fear, which seems to involve dinosaurs lurking around every corner, just waiting to pounce.
Monday, October 20, 2008
To Quote Christopher Robin, "Bak Sun."
I can't think of a damned thing to write about except my search for meds (which is boring even to me), so I'm taking a bit of a break.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
More Crazy
I had to fire my primary care doctor. She wouldn't prescribe the anti-depressant that I've been taking. I'd been seeing a prescribing psychiatrist, but his office moved 25 miles away from where I live, so I've been looking for a new one (a Herculean chore if ever there was one) . In the meantime, I ran out of medication. Actually, I was getting low on medication and then Boo decided to throw the bottle, containing my last 4 or 5 pills, into the toilet and that was that. Out of meds.
So I called my primary care doctor, assuming that she'd write the prescription. I explained the situation to her nurse and she said she'd get back to me. Well, she didn't. So I called again. I was told, again, that she'd have to talk to the doctor and call me back.
Three days of this shit and by the end of the third day, I was ready to kill someone. By this time, the pills were gone and I was starting to feel lousy. I'd been kind of weening myself, since I had a suspicion this might be an issue with this doctor, but still. I'd counted on another week of pills and now they were, literally, flushed down the toilet.
The doctor refused to fill the prescription. Even thought I gave her the name and number of the psychiatrist who'd originally filled it, even though I told the nurse I'd had no side effects, even though I said I was having trouble because of the withdrawal side effects, she didn't care. When I said that I was having trouble getting a prescribing psychiatrist, she didn't care.
So I fired her.
And now I'm not on any anti-depressants and oh my holy hell, is it kicking my ass. I spend most of every day trying not to cry and have been having some really dark thoughts. I keep thinking about how I'm fucking up my kids and fucking up my marriage and how the last thing I want to do is pass on this crazy to my children. I worry so much that they'll be like me when they grow up and I so don't want that for them.
Because this sucks. This black hole is miserable. I want out. And I can't get a fucking psychiatrist to call me back and help me. This is one of the things about depression - you need help so badly, but the system makes it so difficult. And it's so easy to give up. And that's what I want to do. Just give up. Completely. Crawl into a hole, find a cave, hell, even hide under the blankets for a few days. I just want to stop feeling like this. I fucking hate it.
I hate that I can't see the fun any more, that I don't feel the happy. All I feel is bleak and dark and sad. I don't want to go anywhere, I don't want to do anything, I don't want to talk to anyone and I just want that all to go away. I feel paranoid - that people are talking about me, that people are laughing at me behind my back, that I'm a useless lump, a forgettable bit of flotsam, no one worth bothering about, no one worth befriending. And I know this is the depression talking, but the voice is very loud in my head and very hard to ignore.
I want my life back. It might not be much of a life, it might not be what I wanted it to be, but it was my life.
So I called my primary care doctor, assuming that she'd write the prescription. I explained the situation to her nurse and she said she'd get back to me. Well, she didn't. So I called again. I was told, again, that she'd have to talk to the doctor and call me back.
Three days of this shit and by the end of the third day, I was ready to kill someone. By this time, the pills were gone and I was starting to feel lousy. I'd been kind of weening myself, since I had a suspicion this might be an issue with this doctor, but still. I'd counted on another week of pills and now they were, literally, flushed down the toilet.
The doctor refused to fill the prescription. Even thought I gave her the name and number of the psychiatrist who'd originally filled it, even though I told the nurse I'd had no side effects, even though I said I was having trouble because of the withdrawal side effects, she didn't care. When I said that I was having trouble getting a prescribing psychiatrist, she didn't care.
So I fired her.
And now I'm not on any anti-depressants and oh my holy hell, is it kicking my ass. I spend most of every day trying not to cry and have been having some really dark thoughts. I keep thinking about how I'm fucking up my kids and fucking up my marriage and how the last thing I want to do is pass on this crazy to my children. I worry so much that they'll be like me when they grow up and I so don't want that for them.
Because this sucks. This black hole is miserable. I want out. And I can't get a fucking psychiatrist to call me back and help me. This is one of the things about depression - you need help so badly, but the system makes it so difficult. And it's so easy to give up. And that's what I want to do. Just give up. Completely. Crawl into a hole, find a cave, hell, even hide under the blankets for a few days. I just want to stop feeling like this. I fucking hate it.
I hate that I can't see the fun any more, that I don't feel the happy. All I feel is bleak and dark and sad. I don't want to go anywhere, I don't want to do anything, I don't want to talk to anyone and I just want that all to go away. I feel paranoid - that people are talking about me, that people are laughing at me behind my back, that I'm a useless lump, a forgettable bit of flotsam, no one worth bothering about, no one worth befriending. And I know this is the depression talking, but the voice is very loud in my head and very hard to ignore.
I want my life back. It might not be much of a life, it might not be what I wanted it to be, but it was my life.
Monday, October 13, 2008
Crazy
So I'm starting to think this job at Big Box Store was not such a great idea. I didn't realize how deep my misanthropic curmudgeon streak ran until I started having to interact with the public on a regular basis.
I got a job to make a little extra money and to get away from the kids and the house a couple of times a week. However, most of my time at work is spent listening to children scream and holler and whine. Also? Folding towels? Not really all that fun. Picking up aisles of crap, Halloween costumes and clothing and food - not really all that fun. And people are slobs. Lazy, lazy slobs. I spent two and a half hours last night cleaning up the Halloween section. Costumes were ripped out of their packaging and left strewn from one end of the aisle to the other. I wound up having to trash two carts full of costumes because pieces were missing or ripped. The complete and utter disregard that people have for the store's property is astounding. The pinnacle of this was reached yesterday, when someone took a shit all over a bathroom stall. All over the floor, on the toilet and even on the walls. Thank god I wasn't the one who had to clean it up. The poor manager had to do it and she was not happy about it. I don't want to have to deal with that. Not for $8 an hour.
One of the managers told me that she really likes me and asks for me specifically to go do things like fold towels and clean up aisles of stuff because I'm smart and I'm good at it. Which, y'know, nice, but I feel like such a loser, which then makes me feel guilty for feeling that way. Why do I find it so demeaning to work there? Why am I absolutely mortified every time I see anyone I know come thru my lane? I want to crawl into a hole and die. Am I really that much of a snob? Apparently so. Lovely.
I don't know where I'm going with this post. Aimless rambling seems to be my specialty lately. I just know that I don't like this job all that much and I can't even stand the thought of having to work there thru the holidays. I've been looking for another job, full-time if it pays enough to cover the exorbitent cost of putting two kids into daycare, or part-time in the evenings if it doesn't involve having to deal with the public for too long. Those requirements are even tougher to meet than the full-time/daycare thing.
I just wish I could figure out what would make me happy. I can't seem to nail that one down and it's really not a pleasant way to live.
I got a job to make a little extra money and to get away from the kids and the house a couple of times a week. However, most of my time at work is spent listening to children scream and holler and whine. Also? Folding towels? Not really all that fun. Picking up aisles of crap, Halloween costumes and clothing and food - not really all that fun. And people are slobs. Lazy, lazy slobs. I spent two and a half hours last night cleaning up the Halloween section. Costumes were ripped out of their packaging and left strewn from one end of the aisle to the other. I wound up having to trash two carts full of costumes because pieces were missing or ripped. The complete and utter disregard that people have for the store's property is astounding. The pinnacle of this was reached yesterday, when someone took a shit all over a bathroom stall. All over the floor, on the toilet and even on the walls. Thank god I wasn't the one who had to clean it up. The poor manager had to do it and she was not happy about it. I don't want to have to deal with that. Not for $8 an hour.
One of the managers told me that she really likes me and asks for me specifically to go do things like fold towels and clean up aisles of stuff because I'm smart and I'm good at it. Which, y'know, nice, but I feel like such a loser, which then makes me feel guilty for feeling that way. Why do I find it so demeaning to work there? Why am I absolutely mortified every time I see anyone I know come thru my lane? I want to crawl into a hole and die. Am I really that much of a snob? Apparently so. Lovely.
I don't know where I'm going with this post. Aimless rambling seems to be my specialty lately. I just know that I don't like this job all that much and I can't even stand the thought of having to work there thru the holidays. I've been looking for another job, full-time if it pays enough to cover the exorbitent cost of putting two kids into daycare, or part-time in the evenings if it doesn't involve having to deal with the public for too long. Those requirements are even tougher to meet than the full-time/daycare thing.
I just wish I could figure out what would make me happy. I can't seem to nail that one down and it's really not a pleasant way to live.
Wednesday, October 08, 2008
Well. That's One Way Of Dealing With Gang Violence
Next month's special: Bucket o' Bloods.
This sign is on the Friendly's restaurant down the street from my house.
Monday, October 06, 2008
And Another Video
Swiped from Sweetney, because it's too funny not to post in multiple places.
ETA: Yay, Sox!! Now if we can just beat Tampa Bay. *bites nails*
ETA: Yay, Sox!! Now if we can just beat Tampa Bay. *bites nails*
Sunday, October 05, 2008
My Not-So-Guilty Pleasures
I like to pretend that I have a modicum of hipness when it comes to music. I love The Killers, I'm into They Might Be Giants. I like Ben Folds (sorry, Ms. Pru) and Rufus Wainwright and other not-so-well-known bands.
But some of my musical preferences are downright old-fashioned. Or just plain odd. Witness:
I love this man. Love. Him.
I used to sing this stuff in high school. For real, live people. And loved it.
(Sorry for the lack of an actual video here - the live versions all sucked.)
And I know this was a tv theme song, but the show was brilliant and the song even more so.
And finally:
If you ever have a chance to go see Great Big Sea, go. They are fantastic in concert. Fanfuckingtastic. (Just the other day, while I was putting things away out of one of the random boxes of junque that had yet to be unpacked, I ran across the bones I stole off the stage when I was at their show at Avalon.)
But some of my musical preferences are downright old-fashioned. Or just plain odd. Witness:
I love this man. Love. Him.
I used to sing this stuff in high school. For real, live people. And loved it.
(Sorry for the lack of an actual video here - the live versions all sucked.)
And I know this was a tv theme song, but the show was brilliant and the song even more so.
And finally:
If you ever have a chance to go see Great Big Sea, go. They are fantastic in concert. Fanfuckingtastic. (Just the other day, while I was putting things away out of one of the random boxes of junque that had yet to be unpacked, I ran across the bones I stole off the stage when I was at their show at Avalon.)
Wednesday, October 01, 2008
1,001 Books
This meme is from Poppy via a blogger named Jasmine, who writes Flip Front. I don't know her, but I am a sucker for a book meme. This one's a biggun. And I can't figure out how to get the italics and bolds out of there, so I'm just going to delete the books I haven't read. You'll thank me. It's 1,001 books. That's a fuckton of books.
2000s
- Drop City – T. Coraghessan Boyle - I own it. Haven't read it yet.
- The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time – Mark Haddon - Great book.
- Middlesex – Jeffrey Eugenides - Also great.
- Atonement – Ian McEwan - Think I'm one of a very few who did not enjoy it.
- The Corrections – Jonathan Franzen - Own it, started it, put it down somewhere.
- At Swim, Two Boys – Jamie O’Neill - Own it, haven't read it yet.
- Life of Pi – Yann Martel - Own it, started it, didn't like it much.
- White Teeth – Zadie Smith - Own it, haven't read it.
- Disgrace – J.M. Coetzee - Hated it.
- The Hours – Michael Cunningham - Really liked it.
- Memoirs of a Geisha – Arthur Golden - Loved this
- Underworld – Don DeLillo - Have started this a couple of times but may give it up as a bad bargain.
- Captain Corelli’s Mandolin – Louis de Bernieres - Captain Corelli can take his fucking mandolin and stick it where the sun don't shine. I hated this book so much that I threw it across the room and swore. A lot. The ending STILL pisses me off, mostly because the rest of the book was so well-written. And whatever you do, DON'T see the movie.
- A Suitable Boy – Vikram Seth - Door stop of a book. I didn't really get it, but I did read it.
- The Stone Diaries – Carol Shields - Depressing.
- The Things They Carried – Tim O’Brien - Meh.
- Like Water for Chocolate – Laura Esquivel
- The Long Dark Teatime of the Soul – Douglas Adams - Loved it like I love all his books.
- Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency – Douglas Adams - see above.
- The Bonfire of the Vanities – Tom Wolfe - Didn't care for it much.
- Less Than Zero – Bret Easton Ellis - I am a child of the 80s after all.
- Contact – Carl Sagan - Read it but couldn't stop hearing "billyuns and billyuns."
- Perfume – Patrick Süskind - Very weird, but in a good way.
- The Color Purple – Alice Walker - Read this several times.
- The Name of the Rose – Umberto Eco - Started this a couple of times, but never finished it.
- The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy – Douglas Adams - Of course.
- The World According to Garp – John Irving - Read this when I was far too young to understand it.
- The Shining – Stephen King - Scared the shit out of me.
- Interview With the Vampire – Anne Rice - Read it, loved it.
- Fear of Flying – Erica Jong - Read it in high school, simply for the sex. Didn't get the angst.
- Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas – Hunter S. Thompson - Read it in exerpts in Rolling Stone. Deeply, deeply weird.
- I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings – Maya Angelou
- The French Lieutenant’s Woman – John Fowles - Liked it when I read it but can't remember much about it now.
- In Cold Blood – Truman Capote - Read it and really liked it.
- A Clockwork Orange – Anthony Burgess - Read it in high school and found it deeply disturbing.
- To Kill a Mockingbird – Harper Lee - Of course. Excellent book.
- Breakfast at Tiffany’s – Truman Capote - Didn't like it as much as the movie, but still, a great book.
- The Once and Future King – T.H. White - I am a sucker for King Arthur books.
- Lolita – Vladimir Nabokov - Did not like it at all.
- Lord of the Flies – William Golding - Found it disturbing, which, I suppose, was the point.
- Invisible Man – Ralph Ellison - Read it a long time ago.
- The Catcher in the Rye – J.D. Salinger - Thought what'shisname was a foolish character and had very little sympathy for him, even though I was the "right age" for reading it.
- Nineteen Eighty-Four – George Orwell - Read it under duress because I was in the class of '84. Didn't like it at the time but appreciate it a lot more now. They shouldn't make you read this stuff when your world view doesn't extend beyond Friday's dance.
- Brideshead Revisited – Evelyn Waugh - Loved it. Wanted a teddy bear named Aloysius.
- Animal Farm – George Orwell - See above comment about 1984.
- The Little Prince РAntoine de Saint-Exup̩ry - Read it. Still don't get it.
- The Grapes of Wrath – John Steinbeck - Had to read it in high school.
- Rebecca – Daphne du Maurier - Read it. Still love it.
- Of Mice and Men – John Steinbeck - One of the few books I read in high school that I really loved.
- The Hobbit – J.R.R. Tolkien - Read it and liked it, but man, those hobbits sing a lot.
- Out of Africa – Isak Dineson (Karen Blixen) - Loved this.
- To Have and Have Not – Ernest Hemingway - Did not love this.
- Gone With the Wind – Margaret Mitchell - Yes. 847 times.
- The Nine Tailors – Dorothy L. Sayers - LOVE Dorothy Sayers. Love. Her.
- Thank You, Jeeves – P.G. Wodehouse - But of course.
- Murder Must Advertise – Dorothy L. Sayers - See above re. D.L.S.
- Brave New World – Aldous Huxley - Read it in high school. 'nuff said.
- The Maltese Falcon – Dashiell Hammett - Really enjoy noir detective stuff.
- All Quiet on the Western Front – Erich Maria Remarque - Read it in high school. Found it unbelievably depressing. Helped solidify my hatred of war.
- Lady Chatterley’s Lover – D.H. Lawrence - Read this on my own in high school and was disappointed that it wasn't as steamy as I thought it would be.
- The Sun Also Rises – Ernest Hemingway - Do not like Hemingway.
- The Murder of Roger Ackroyd – Agatha Christie - My least favorite Agatha Christie.
- The Great Gatsby – F. Scott Fitzgerald - Loved this book. A lot.
- The Age of Innocence – Edith Wharton - Read this a few years ago. Loved it. Need to read more Wharton.
- The Forsyte Sage – John Galsworthy - Read it a couple of times.
- The Hound of the Baskervilles – Sir Arthur Conan Doyle - Love SACD.
1800s
- Dracula – Bram Stoker
- The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes – Sir Arthur Conan Doyle - See above re: SACD
- Tess of the D’Urbervilles – Thomas Hardy - Read this on my own in high school and thoroughly enjoyed it.
- The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn – Mark Twain - Never could understand why people wanted to ban it.
- Anna Karenina – Leo Tolstoy - Enjoyed it but not enough to read it again.
- Far from the Madding Crowd – Thomas Hardy - Didn't like it much.
- Through the Looking Glass, and What Alice Found There – Lewis Carroll - One of my all-time favorites.
- War and Peace – Leo Tolstoy - Read this on a dare made by my 11th grade history teacher. He never finished it. I did. Lots of snow and -ovskys in this book.
- Little Women – Louisa May Alcott - Uh, yeah. Just a couple of times.
- Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland – Lewis Carroll - Yep. Love it.
- Les Mis̩rables РVictor Hugo - Did not like it.
- Great Expectations – Charles Dickens - I LOATHE Charles Dickens, but especially this book.
- A Tale of Two Cities – Charles Dickens - OK, this one I did enjoy. But don't tell anyone.
- Madame Bovary – Gustave Flaubert - Read this a couple of times.
- The Scarlet Letter – Nathaniel Hawthorne - GAH! Hated this book with a passion.
- David Copperfield – Charles Dickens - And this one as well.
- Wuthering Heights – Emily Brontë - Wasn't too crazy about this one either.
- Jane Eyre – Charlotte Brontë - This, on the other hand, I loved.
- Vanity Fair – William Makepeace Thackeray - And this.
- The Pit and the Pendulum – Edgar Allan Poe - Creepy and thrilling, like all his stuff.
- Oliver Twist – Charles Dickens - See above re: Dickens.
- Frankenstein – Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley - Found this very, very sad.
- Northanger Abbey – Jane Austen - Jane Austen freak here.
- Persuasion – Jane Austen - See above.
- Emma – Jane Austen - ibid
- Mansfield Park – Jane Austen - ibid
- Pride and Prejudice – Jane Austen - ibid
- Sense and Sensibility – Jane Austen - ibid
1700s
- Tom Jones – Henry Fielding - Loved this. A total romp.
- Gulliver’s Travels – Jonathan Swift - A bit too long for me, but good.
- Pre-1700
- The Thousand and One Nights – Anonymous - Of course. Fantastic stories.
- Aesop’s Fables – Aesopus - Hasn't everyone read these?
There. Now aren't you glad I didn't post the entire list?
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Monday, September 29, 2008
This Is My Brain On Water
I've finally gone back to the Y. We moved and then the child watch was closed for a couple of weeks and then the pool was closed for a couple of weeks and suddenly I hadn't gone in 5 weeks. And I felt like crap.
I went twice last week, but there was so much crappe going on here that that was all I managed. I realized how much I missed it, so I'm going to make every effort to go daily from now on.
My brain goes into this weird state when I'm swimming. Witness:
Into the water. Damn, it's cold. Why's it have to be so freakin' cold?
OK, let's do this. Push off. Start swimming.
Sploosh, sploosh, splash.
This doesn't feel that bad, actually, all things considered. OK, I'm going to do a mile. That's 35 laps.
Up and back, up and back, counting the lengths.
OK, I've done 10. That's 1/7th of how many I have to do. I wonder how many 2/7ths is. I attempt to do fractions in my head. Fail miserably.
Maybe I should do 80 lengths, then I can break it down more easily. 10 laps is 1/8th.
Sploosh, sploosh, splash. Up and back, up and back.
20 lengths. That's 1/4 if I decide to do 80. Much easier to divide by 2s.
I don't know if I can do 80. What if I only do 50? Then 25 lengths will be half.
You can do more than 50. That's not even a mile. Do 70, at least.
Sploosh, sploosh, splash. Up and back, up and back.
OK, 30 lengths. Not quite half of 70, but I'm getting there.
35 lengths. Halfway done! Yippee!
This is starting to feel good. My shoulders are a little poppy, but I feel like I'm working out the kinks. Feels good.
41 lengths. My age. I always get all philosophical at this point. I can't believe I'm 41. Next length is how old I'll be in November.
45 lengths. Boy, I am not looking forward to turning 45. I don't know why I seem to have a hard time with the 5 years. 25 and 35 bummed me out, too.
Sploosh, sploosh, splash. Up and back, up and back.
50 lengths. Oh, I'm not stopping now. I can do another 20 of these with no problem.
Huh. When I'm 50, That Canadian Boy I Married will only be 37. That may be deeply weird.
I wonder how they dust all that steel girding up there. I wonder how they change the light bulbs in those lights over the pool.
Sploosh, sploosh, splash. Up and back, up and back.
60. Almost done. Oh, man, here come those two old men who drove me so nuts last week, standing there, in the middle of the lap pool, having a conversation at the TOP OF THEIR LUNGS. I hope they don't do that today. Even without my glasses, I can see that 80 year old men should not be wearing Speedos. There should be a law.
Hey, if I sort of drop my shoulders and extend my neck, the way they told me to in deportment and ballet, I can go a lot faster. Wheee, look at that! Who gets a second wind after 30 laps? Me, apparently.
Sploosh, sploosh, splash. Up and back, up and back.
Ugh, I'm getting a cramp in my calf. Ouch. I can't exactly kick with my foot pointing at the ceiling.
Just keep going. Just keep going, almost done and then I can stretch.
68.
69.
70.
OK, I'm done. I can't do 100 today. I can't even do 80 today. I'm glad I did 70. That's a mile. And a mile is not shabby at all.
And that is my brain on water.
Any questions?
I went twice last week, but there was so much crappe going on here that that was all I managed. I realized how much I missed it, so I'm going to make every effort to go daily from now on.
My brain goes into this weird state when I'm swimming. Witness:
Into the water. Damn, it's cold. Why's it have to be so freakin' cold?
OK, let's do this. Push off. Start swimming.
Sploosh, sploosh, splash.
This doesn't feel that bad, actually, all things considered. OK, I'm going to do a mile. That's 35 laps.
Up and back, up and back, counting the lengths.
OK, I've done 10. That's 1/7th of how many I have to do. I wonder how many 2/7ths is. I attempt to do fractions in my head. Fail miserably.
Maybe I should do 80 lengths, then I can break it down more easily. 10 laps is 1/8th.
Sploosh, sploosh, splash. Up and back, up and back.
20 lengths. That's 1/4 if I decide to do 80. Much easier to divide by 2s.
I don't know if I can do 80. What if I only do 50? Then 25 lengths will be half.
You can do more than 50. That's not even a mile. Do 70, at least.
Sploosh, sploosh, splash. Up and back, up and back.
OK, 30 lengths. Not quite half of 70, but I'm getting there.
35 lengths. Halfway done! Yippee!
This is starting to feel good. My shoulders are a little poppy, but I feel like I'm working out the kinks. Feels good.
41 lengths. My age. I always get all philosophical at this point. I can't believe I'm 41. Next length is how old I'll be in November.
45 lengths. Boy, I am not looking forward to turning 45. I don't know why I seem to have a hard time with the 5 years. 25 and 35 bummed me out, too.
Sploosh, sploosh, splash. Up and back, up and back.
50 lengths. Oh, I'm not stopping now. I can do another 20 of these with no problem.
Huh. When I'm 50, That Canadian Boy I Married will only be 37. That may be deeply weird.
I wonder how they dust all that steel girding up there. I wonder how they change the light bulbs in those lights over the pool.
Sploosh, sploosh, splash. Up and back, up and back.
60. Almost done. Oh, man, here come those two old men who drove me so nuts last week, standing there, in the middle of the lap pool, having a conversation at the TOP OF THEIR LUNGS. I hope they don't do that today. Even without my glasses, I can see that 80 year old men should not be wearing Speedos. There should be a law.
Hey, if I sort of drop my shoulders and extend my neck, the way they told me to in deportment and ballet, I can go a lot faster. Wheee, look at that! Who gets a second wind after 30 laps? Me, apparently.
Sploosh, sploosh, splash. Up and back, up and back.
Ugh, I'm getting a cramp in my calf. Ouch. I can't exactly kick with my foot pointing at the ceiling.
Just keep going. Just keep going, almost done and then I can stretch.
68.
69.
70.
OK, I'm done. I can't do 100 today. I can't even do 80 today. I'm glad I did 70. That's a mile. And a mile is not shabby at all.
And that is my brain on water.
Any questions?
Sunday, September 28, 2008
I'm A Handbag Slut
I have been on the search for the perfect pocketbook for years. I have yet to find one. But these people are giving away 24 in 24 hours and I entered.
Interested?
Go here and do the same.
(And yes, they are and always will be, pocketbooks. I loathe the word purse and handbag sounds like something your great-aunt Gertrude would carry, full of used tissues that have Starlight mints stuck to them.)
Interested?
Go here and do the same.
(And yes, they are and always will be, pocketbooks. I loathe the word purse and handbag sounds like something your great-aunt Gertrude would carry, full of used tissues that have Starlight mints stuck to them.)
Enough Already!
It's been a rollercoaster week here at Casa Bedhead.
It was O's birthday on Thursday. She's 14. Which, what the hell, how did that happen? And I don't want to be jinxing things too much, but considering she's of an age when she's supposed to be impossible and defiant and difficult and all those other fantastic teenage characteristics, she's really a pretty good kid. Sure, she has her moments, but who doesn't? I know I have mine, in spades. I think my moments are more like days, but whatever. This isn't about me (for once).
O was supposed to have three friends sleep over on Friday night. I was going to rent them some movies, get them some pizza and some soda and make popcorn and it was going to be a nice, if loud and giggly, time. But then all three friends bailed on her. One girl had a wedding, one girl's parents wouldn't let her and the third got a last minute babysitting job. O was bummed. Very bummed.
On the fly, I decided that I'd take her out to dinner and a movie instead. She was happy with that. We were going to go to The Outback (her choice) and to see Journey To The Center Of The Earth on Friday night. This did not happen.
Why? Well, Boo woke up on Friday morning soaked to her knees with pee. Her preschool teacher had mentioned on Thursday that Boo was using the bathroom a lot at school and said that her breath smelled sweet and funky. Alarm bells started going off. I checked Boo's blood sugar on Friday morning. It was 160. As soon as they opened, I was on the phone to the pediatrician's office. They saw her that afternoon and found glucose in her urine. The pediatrician wanted to run more lab work, so we were at the office until after 6 p.m.. The results were inconclusive and I have to check Boo's blood sugars over the weekend and follow up on Monday.
So, no dinner and movie on Friday. We went yesterday and over dinner, I asked O if she would rather go to the movies or go shopping. Her grandmother gave her a $35 gift card to Pac Sun and I said we could spend about $30 in addition, since that's probably what we would have spent at the theater anyway. She, naturally, decided to go shopping.
She got a couple of shirts at Pac Sun and we went to Macy's to get some MAC foundation. She'd been complaining about her face, how she keeps breaking out and nothing covers it and I told her about the amazingness of MAC's foundation. Luckily we have the same skin tone, so we're going to share it. But ouch - it's $27.50 a bottle. Still. Since I STILL get zits (and what the FUCK is up with that?? I'm old, goddammit, I should not be getting zits like I'm some pizza-scarfing 15 year-old boy.) and know what a pain in the ass it is to try to conceal them (I've given up at this point. Jesus, parenthetical much, Julia?), I thought I'd splurge.
It was a nice night out. We had fun. O talked my ear off, which was nice, if somewhat exhausting. I'm really glad that she likes to talk to me and tell me what's going on with her friends and her life. It makes me feel like maybe I haven't completely screwed up.
Back to Thursday, though (man, this post is going to need editing). Her father called her on her birthday. Now, normally that would be a nice thing, but her father hasn't contacted her in 5 months and hasn't seen her in almost 2 years, so this was decidedly Not Good. He said he'd called to wish her a happy birthday and that he couldn't talk but he'd call her back later. O was in hysterics about this. She doesn't want to talk to him. She sent him an email telling him that 5 months ago - a shit or get off the pot email, saying that she didn't just want to have a phone relationship with him, that she wanted to see him, that she wanted him to make the effort to visit (he only lives an hour away). She emailed it and heard nothing. For five months. She thought she was done having to deal with him, only to have him come back again and throw her for a loop. It's really sucked. A lot. For everyone. I hate that I can't fix this for her, that I can't just make him go away and leave her alone. I hate that he keeps screwing with her head. And if he ever calls here again, I'm going to tell him that.
In other news, That Canadian Boy I Married may possibly have a couple of herniated discs in his back and has been laid up on the couch every night for almost 2 weeks. He has to get more x-rays done tomorrow and will be seen again on Thursday, but in the meantime, he's in awful pain. His mother has horrible back problems and I'm afraid he may have inherited her issues, which is worrying. Degenerative disc issues are not fun.
And The Bug is going to be evaluated by Early Intervention because she keeps falling down. I've taken her to the pediatrician, too, and there doesn't seem to be anything structurally wrong with her, so the pediatrician suggested EI. I'm fine with that, and although I don't know if she'll qualify for any services, it can't hurt to have her looked at.
I don't know what I did in a past life - maybe I killed babies or something - but I do wish this dark cloud of doom would move the fuck away from me and my family. It's sucking the life out of me.
It was O's birthday on Thursday. She's 14. Which, what the hell, how did that happen? And I don't want to be jinxing things too much, but considering she's of an age when she's supposed to be impossible and defiant and difficult and all those other fantastic teenage characteristics, she's really a pretty good kid. Sure, she has her moments, but who doesn't? I know I have mine, in spades. I think my moments are more like days, but whatever. This isn't about me (for once).
O was supposed to have three friends sleep over on Friday night. I was going to rent them some movies, get them some pizza and some soda and make popcorn and it was going to be a nice, if loud and giggly, time. But then all three friends bailed on her. One girl had a wedding, one girl's parents wouldn't let her and the third got a last minute babysitting job. O was bummed. Very bummed.
On the fly, I decided that I'd take her out to dinner and a movie instead. She was happy with that. We were going to go to The Outback (her choice) and to see Journey To The Center Of The Earth on Friday night. This did not happen.
Why? Well, Boo woke up on Friday morning soaked to her knees with pee. Her preschool teacher had mentioned on Thursday that Boo was using the bathroom a lot at school and said that her breath smelled sweet and funky. Alarm bells started going off. I checked Boo's blood sugar on Friday morning. It was 160. As soon as they opened, I was on the phone to the pediatrician's office. They saw her that afternoon and found glucose in her urine. The pediatrician wanted to run more lab work, so we were at the office until after 6 p.m.. The results were inconclusive and I have to check Boo's blood sugars over the weekend and follow up on Monday.
So, no dinner and movie on Friday. We went yesterday and over dinner, I asked O if she would rather go to the movies or go shopping. Her grandmother gave her a $35 gift card to Pac Sun and I said we could spend about $30 in addition, since that's probably what we would have spent at the theater anyway. She, naturally, decided to go shopping.
She got a couple of shirts at Pac Sun and we went to Macy's to get some MAC foundation. She'd been complaining about her face, how she keeps breaking out and nothing covers it and I told her about the amazingness of MAC's foundation. Luckily we have the same skin tone, so we're going to share it. But ouch - it's $27.50 a bottle. Still. Since I STILL get zits (and what the FUCK is up with that?? I'm old, goddammit, I should not be getting zits like I'm some pizza-scarfing 15 year-old boy.) and know what a pain in the ass it is to try to conceal them (I've given up at this point. Jesus, parenthetical much, Julia?), I thought I'd splurge.
It was a nice night out. We had fun. O talked my ear off, which was nice, if somewhat exhausting. I'm really glad that she likes to talk to me and tell me what's going on with her friends and her life. It makes me feel like maybe I haven't completely screwed up.
Back to Thursday, though (man, this post is going to need editing). Her father called her on her birthday. Now, normally that would be a nice thing, but her father hasn't contacted her in 5 months and hasn't seen her in almost 2 years, so this was decidedly Not Good. He said he'd called to wish her a happy birthday and that he couldn't talk but he'd call her back later. O was in hysterics about this. She doesn't want to talk to him. She sent him an email telling him that 5 months ago - a shit or get off the pot email, saying that she didn't just want to have a phone relationship with him, that she wanted to see him, that she wanted him to make the effort to visit (he only lives an hour away). She emailed it and heard nothing. For five months. She thought she was done having to deal with him, only to have him come back again and throw her for a loop. It's really sucked. A lot. For everyone. I hate that I can't fix this for her, that I can't just make him go away and leave her alone. I hate that he keeps screwing with her head. And if he ever calls here again, I'm going to tell him that.
In other news, That Canadian Boy I Married may possibly have a couple of herniated discs in his back and has been laid up on the couch every night for almost 2 weeks. He has to get more x-rays done tomorrow and will be seen again on Thursday, but in the meantime, he's in awful pain. His mother has horrible back problems and I'm afraid he may have inherited her issues, which is worrying. Degenerative disc issues are not fun.
And The Bug is going to be evaluated by Early Intervention because she keeps falling down. I've taken her to the pediatrician, too, and there doesn't seem to be anything structurally wrong with her, so the pediatrician suggested EI. I'm fine with that, and although I don't know if she'll qualify for any services, it can't hurt to have her looked at.
I don't know what I did in a past life - maybe I killed babies or something - but I do wish this dark cloud of doom would move the fuck away from me and my family. It's sucking the life out of me.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
75 Books Every Woman Should Read
Kerri tweeted this list of books and I thought I'd go thru it and see how woefully underread I am. I hate these lists - they make me feel like a moron. Since I'm feeling like a little self-flagellation, I thought I'd share my lack of akchual literachure reading with all of you.
So yeah. Apparently I am not very well read. *sigh* Great. Something else to feel bad about. Because I don't have enough issues....
- The Lottery (and Other Stories), Shirley Jackson- read the short story but nothing else.
- To the Lighthouse, Virginia Woolf- nope, but I loved A Room Of One's Own. A lot.
- The House of Mirth, Edith Wharton- nope, but I have read The Buccanneers and Age Of Innocence, which I loved.
- White Teeth, Zadie Smith- nope
- The House of the Spirits, Isabel Allende - nope
- Slouching Towards Bethlehem, Joan Didion - nope
- Excellent Women, Barbara Pym - nope
- The Bell Jar, Sylvia Plath - nope
- Wide Sargasso Sea, Jean Rhys - nope
- The Namesake, Jhumpa Lahiri - nope
- Beloved, Toni Morrison - nope
- Madame Bovary, Gustave Flaubert- yes. Loved it.
- Like Life, Lorrie Moore - nope
- Pride and Prejudice, Jane Austen- of course. Defining moment of my childhood, reading that book.
- Jane Eyre, Charlotte Brontë - Excellent. The pinnacle of gothic novels.
- The Delta of Venus, Anais Nin - nope
- A Thousand Acres, Jane Smiley - nope
- A Good Man Is Hard To Find (and Other Stories), Flannery O'Connor - nope
- The Shipping News, E. Annie Proulx - nope, but I tried. I didn't like it.
- You Can't Keep a Good Woman Down, Alice Walker - nope, but I read The Color Purple.
- Their Eyes Were Watching God, Zora Neale Hurston - nope
- To Kill a Mockingbird, Harper Lee- Yes. Awesome book.
- Fear of Flying, Erica Jong - Yes, althought I didn't get it.
- Earthly Paradise, Colette - nope, but I've read several of the Claudine books.
- Angela's Ashes, Frank McCourt- yes, and it was really fucking depressing.
- Property, Valerie Martin - nope
- Middlemarch, George Eliot - nope, but I own it.
- Annie John, Jamaica Kincaid - nope
- The Second Sex, Simone de Beauvoir - nope
- Runaway, Alice Munro - nope
- The Heart is A Lonely Hunter, Carson McCullers - nope
- The Woman Warrior, Maxine Hong Kingston - nope
- Wuthering Heights, Emily Brontë - Yes, although I didn't like it much.
- You Must Remember This, Joyce Carol Oates - nope, but I've read other books by her and I haven't liked them all that much.
- Little Women, Louisa May Alcott- I LOVE this book. It's one of my all-time favorites.
- Bad Behavior, Mary Gaitskill - nope (never heard of it)
- The Liars' Club, Mary Karr - nope
- I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings, Maya Angelou- Yes. Excellent book.
- A Tree Grows In Brooklyn, Betty Smith - nope, but someone in book group wants to read it - I'm hoping it gets picked.
- And Then There Were None, Agatha Christie - Yes. I love Agatha Christie. Love. Her.
- Bastard out of Carolina, Dorothy Allison - nope
- The Secret History, Donna Tartt- Not yet, but it's on my list.
- The Little Disturbances of Man, Grace Paley - nope
- The Portable Dorothy Parker, Dorothy Parker - nope
- The Group, Mary McCarthy - nope
- Persepolis, Marjane Satrapi - nope
- The Golden Notebook, Doris Lessing - nope
- The Diary of Anne Frank, Anne Frank- hasn't everyone read this?
- Frankenstein, Mary Shelley- yes. It made me sad.
- Against Interpretation, Susan Sontag - nope
- In the Time of the Butterflies, Julia Alvarez - nope
- The Good Earth, Pearl S. Buck - nope
- Fun Home, Alison Bechdel - nope
- Three Junes, Julia Glass - nope
- A Vindication of the Rights of Woman, Mary Wollstonecraft - nope
- Sophie's Choice, William Styron - nope, but I tried. I knew the story and couldn't bear to read it.
- Valley of the Dolls, Jacqueline Susann- yes. Meh.
- Love in a Cold Climate, Nancy Mitford - nope
- Gone with the Wind, Margaret Mitchell- Uh, yeah. About 847 times.
- The Left Hand of Darkness, Ursula K. LeGuin - nope, but I have read at least one of the Earthsea books.
- The Red Tent, Anita Diamant- great book, but the ending felt rushed.
- The Unbearable Lightness of Being, Milan Kundera - nope, but it's on my list.
- The Face of War, Martha Gellhorn - nope
- My Antonia, Willa Cather - nope
- Love In The Time of Cholera, Gabriel Garcia Marquez - nope, but I tried.
- The Harsh Voice, Rebecca West - nope
- Spending, Mary Gordon - nope
- The Lover, Marguerite Duras - nope
- The God of Small Things, Arundhati Roy- yes. It weighed about 85 lbs, but I did read it.
- Tell Me a Riddle, Tillie Olsen - nope
- Nightwood, Djuna Barnes - nope
- Three Lives, Gertrude Stein - nope
- Cold Comfort Farm, Stella Gibbons - nope
- I Capture the Castle, Dodie Smith - nope
- Possession, A.S. Byatt- nope
So yeah. Apparently I am not very well read. *sigh* Great. Something else to feel bad about. Because I don't have enough issues....
Monday, September 22, 2008
The Things People Buy
The other day, at Big Box Store, I worked in the junior's department, folding and straightening clothes (because I don't do this enough at home. Oy.) and came across a couple of racks of clothing that very nearly made me scream in horror.
It was like a flashback to high school. Overdyed jeans (they don't have them on the website, but at the store, they had purple ones. Purple. Cast your mind back. Screaming yet?), ballet flats and a Michael Jackson jacket. Between that and the layered, shot-collar polo shirts I've seen lately, I think it's safe to say we have re-entered the 80s.
God help us all.
It was like a flashback to high school. Overdyed jeans (they don't have them on the website, but at the store, they had purple ones. Purple. Cast your mind back. Screaming yet?), ballet flats and a Michael Jackson jacket. Between that and the layered, shot-collar polo shirts I've seen lately, I think it's safe to say we have re-entered the 80s.
God help us all.
Friday, September 19, 2008
Mo' Babies
I'm reposting this one from last June, in honour of the Mo' Babies online shower for Kristen, of Motherhood Uncensored and Rebecca, of Girl's Gone Child. If you'd like to be a part of it, check out Mothergoosemouse or Her Bad Mother for more information.
Mourning
The Bug has had a cold all week. Last night she developed this nasty, croup-y sounding cough which kept waking her up. Around 2 a.m. she started crying, so I got up to get her. The poor little thing, she was just sitting in her crib, head down, fists scrubbing at her eyes, crying in a hoarse, pathetic little voice. When she saw me, she wailed "Mama," and held up her arms.
I gathered her up and brought her to bed. She nursed for a bit but wouldn't drift off until I held her on top of me, against my chest. She snuggled right down, stuck her thumb in her mouth and started twirling a strand of my hair in her fingers. I rubbed her back for a while, savouring the weight of her on me, her snuffly breaths against my neck.
It's times like this that hurt, when I realize that this is it, that there won't be any more moments like this. No more babies, no more trusting little bodies curved into mine, no more midnight snuggles, no more milk-drunk infants splayed out across my lap. I'm done.
So I try to carve each moment into my memory, but they're so fleeting, so ephemeral that I know I'm going to forget some of it. Every quiet moment with her is an opportunity to try again to capture it in my brain, to attempt to hold on to a moment, a moment that made me smile or cry or just stare in wonder.
How do you hold on to that? To the toothless grins, the babbling and cooing, the helpless giggles and even the inconsolable tears? How do you live in the moment while trying to hold on to the past? Because I want to, because as much as I love watching my babies grow and become these people, these funny, happy, sometimes maddening people, I long to hold on to that baby-ness of them, to hold their tiny little hands in mine, to keep them small forever.
Just like this....
Mourning
The Bug has had a cold all week. Last night she developed this nasty, croup-y sounding cough which kept waking her up. Around 2 a.m. she started crying, so I got up to get her. The poor little thing, she was just sitting in her crib, head down, fists scrubbing at her eyes, crying in a hoarse, pathetic little voice. When she saw me, she wailed "Mama," and held up her arms.
I gathered her up and brought her to bed. She nursed for a bit but wouldn't drift off until I held her on top of me, against my chest. She snuggled right down, stuck her thumb in her mouth and started twirling a strand of my hair in her fingers. I rubbed her back for a while, savouring the weight of her on me, her snuffly breaths against my neck.
It's times like this that hurt, when I realize that this is it, that there won't be any more moments like this. No more babies, no more trusting little bodies curved into mine, no more midnight snuggles, no more milk-drunk infants splayed out across my lap. I'm done.
So I try to carve each moment into my memory, but they're so fleeting, so ephemeral that I know I'm going to forget some of it. Every quiet moment with her is an opportunity to try again to capture it in my brain, to attempt to hold on to a moment, a moment that made me smile or cry or just stare in wonder.
How do you hold on to that? To the toothless grins, the babbling and cooing, the helpless giggles and even the inconsolable tears? How do you live in the moment while trying to hold on to the past? Because I want to, because as much as I love watching my babies grow and become these people, these funny, happy, sometimes maddening people, I long to hold on to that baby-ness of them, to hold their tiny little hands in mine, to keep them small forever.
Just like this....
(I'm not sure how to link to the shower site with the photo, but if you click on the Mothergoosemouse link up there, it will bring you to it.)
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
In Case You're Confused
I don't usually post email forwards, but I loved this. And it's my blog.
If you grow up in Hawaii , raised by your grandparents, you're "exotic, different."
Grow up in Alaska eating mooseburgers, a quintessential American story.
If your name is Barack you're a radical, unpatriotic Muslim.
Name your kids Willow , Trig and Track, you're a maverick.
Graduate from Harvard law School and you are unstable.
Attend 5 different small colleges before graduating, you're well grounded.
If you spend 3 years as a brilliant community organizer, become the first black President of the Harvard Law Review, create a voter registration drive that registers 150,000 new voters, spend 12 years as a Constitutional Law professor, spend 8 years as a State Senator representing a district with over 750,000 people, become chairman of the state Senate's Health and Human Services committee, spend 4 years in the United States Senate represe nting a state of 13 million people while sponsoring 131 bills and serving on the Foreign Affairs, Environment and Public Works and Veteran's Affairs committees, you don't have any real leadership experience..
If your resume is: local weather girl, 4 years on the city council and 6 years as the mayor of a town with less than 7,000 people, 20 months as the governor of a state with only 650,000 people, then you're qualified to become the country's second highest ranking executive.
If you have been married to the same woman for 19 years while raising 2 beautiful daughters, all within Protestant churches, you're not a real Christian.
If you cheated on your first wife with a rich heiress, and left your disfigured wife and married the heiress the next month, you're a Christian.
If you teach responsible, age appropriate sex education, including the proper use of birth control, you are eroding the fiber of society.
If, while governor, you staunchly advocate abstinence only, with no other option in sex education in your state's school system while your unwed teen daughter ends up pregnant, you're very responsible.
If your wife is a Harvard graduate lawyer who gave up a position in a prestigious law firm to work for the betterment of her inner city community, then gave that up to raise a family, your family's values don't represent America 's.
If your husband is nicknamed "First Dude", with at least one DWI conviction and no college education, who didn't register to vote until age 25 and once was a member of a group that advocated the secession of Alaska from the USA , your family is extremely admirable.
OK, much clearer now.
If you grow up in Hawaii , raised by your grandparents, you're "exotic, different."
Grow up in Alaska eating mooseburgers, a quintessential American story.
If your name is Barack you're a radical, unpatriotic Muslim.
Name your kids Willow , Trig and Track, you're a maverick.
Graduate from Harvard law School and you are unstable.
Attend 5 different small colleges before graduating, you're well grounded.
If you spend 3 years as a brilliant community organizer, become the first black President of the Harvard Law Review, create a voter registration drive that registers 150,000 new voters, spend 12 years as a Constitutional Law professor, spend 8 years as a State Senator representing a district with over 750,000 people, become chairman of the state Senate's Health and Human Services committee, spend 4 years in the United States Senate represe nting a state of 13 million people while sponsoring 131 bills and serving on the Foreign Affairs, Environment and Public Works and Veteran's Affairs committees, you don't have any real leadership experience..
If your resume is: local weather girl, 4 years on the city council and 6 years as the mayor of a town with less than 7,000 people, 20 months as the governor of a state with only 650,000 people, then you're qualified to become the country's second highest ranking executive.
If you have been married to the same woman for 19 years while raising 2 beautiful daughters, all within Protestant churches, you're not a real Christian.
If you cheated on your first wife with a rich heiress, and left your disfigured wife and married the heiress the next month, you're a Christian.
If you teach responsible, age appropriate sex education, including the proper use of birth control, you are eroding the fiber of society.
If, while governor, you staunchly advocate abstinence only, with no other option in sex education in your state's school system while your unwed teen daughter ends up pregnant, you're very responsible.
If your wife is a Harvard graduate lawyer who gave up a position in a prestigious law firm to work for the betterment of her inner city community, then gave that up to raise a family, your family's values don't represent America 's.
If your husband is nicknamed "First Dude", with at least one DWI conviction and no college education, who didn't register to vote until age 25 and once was a member of a group that advocated the secession of Alaska from the USA , your family is extremely admirable.
OK, much clearer now.
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