Friday, December 29, 2006
Sci Fi Fridays are over... no more Dr. Who /BSG combos until Jan. 21st, which is a Sunday, while SG1 and SG Atlantis take over on Fridays, um I think.
Not the point though.
The point is, now, tonight, I have planned a nice, child-free night.
Stick the buggers in bed at 7:30 because they didn't have a nap.
Sit down in front of BBC America and chill out to My Family and Hardware, and when that's through, watch my Monarch of the Glen and Are You Being Served Again DVDs.
While eating Ice Cream.
Because honestly, this is what I'm going to be doing every weekend night until I get this #%*#( house on the market and sold, I might as well make it a tradition, and make it as cozy and fun as I can. Man, do I feel for the single moms that aren't dating or going out and having a social life.
And there is nothing more that I love than a good veg night of my favorite sappy shows and ice cream. Oh, and Baileys, but that's expensive so I'm rationing.
And if you think this sounds amazingly boring, and this is the dullest post you've read next to, say, the last post...
welcome to the current installation of 'my life'... i'm hoping it gets more interesting too.
Thursday, December 28, 2006
So I've done it.
I've put the blinds up in two rooms. There is a third set of blinds for the third room, but that won't ever make it up. One, they are too long, and two, it took me two hours to get the danged blinds up and so I'm done. Not to mention the injury to my thumb that I received opening up the curtain rod package.
My one last goal for the night is putting another coat of primer on the stairs before I paint them. Don't ask why I need to paint stairs. It'll set off a rant.
I'm almost ready to put the house up. I figure after I do the stairs, put the baseboards back and finish my daughter's room, and clean the basement, I'll call up some junk removal people to take all the garbage away (Kent has to have the WORST garbage collection company ever, they only take things that fit in garbage bags, so any bulk items or extra long items, you need to pay someone else to take or take to the dump yourself...) and put the boxes in the garage. Steam clean the carpets and I'm all set. Yay. Go Me.
Except it STILL seems like sooo much work. I'd make more progress if the boys weren't being so helpful.
I swear, it feels like I'll never get out of here.
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
...in a year filled with bad karma, craptacular happenings, and complete exile and solitude (my friends know what I mean, um, and I believe many other SAHMs -- you know, the ones with the plastic smile in the grocery store hoping to catch a good conversation with the stock boy... ha ha ha) anyhow, all of that along with three fighting cats, two bellowing toddlers and one dramatic ten year old, a windstorm that took away my power and coffee, (waah) a head cold resulting from lack of said power, and a stupid broken gate, (stupid wind)
my hubby, McRed, has been given a free plane ticket as a Christmas present to see the said toddlers and tween, and get to spend some of Christmas with them...and me, yaaay. Arrives the 23rd, leaves the 25th, not much time, but hey, i'll take the day over nothing.
Oh, and he's bringing his first paycheck, half of what it normally is because of when he started, but lets face it, it's twice as much as what we weren't getting...
So There's Some Happy!!!!
I also read a disturbing study I think is crap. This study now gives people a scientific excuse for thinking less of people who come into hard times. Apparently, people are genetically conditioned to think that people who have it hard or suffer or are poor, deserve it, and think less kindly of them. Now, maybe I'm a bit sensitive on this subject, but frankly, i don't think my husband and I are bad people becuase an event out of our control threw our world temporarily out of control, and I certainly don't believe we should be treated as 'less' than others because of our misfortune (which, we are now coming out of the worst of..) but hey, I could be wrong. Maybe my worth IS truly based on my credit score...
In fact, YOU can help prove this study wrong. Yes, YOU can make a difference, and show that you do think the study is bogus. You can prove it's bogus.
Oh, I'd love to, you say. How can I help, you wonder. It's easy.
Buy my house.
It'll prove I'm lucky after all.
You'll feel good about it in the morning...
Saturday, December 16, 2006
Est. Time, 2 a.m.
'momma' (crash into wall sound) 'moommma' 'light broke momma light it's dark it's so dark'
I grab my flashlight and go into hall to collect my bear. He's in a t-shirt, because my boys are not big on pants, and I grabbed him up and cuddled him up into my bed, where he asked me to turn on some lights. He fell asleep. The wind picks up and I'm thinking 'oh no, there goes the rest of the fence.' I hear things creaking, things howling, things possibly breaking...
Est. time, 4 a.m.
'MOMMMA moommma' that would be Turbo. If Bear feels slightly nervous in the dark, Turbo is terrified of the dark. I grab the flashlight and collect him. Now I've got both boys in my bed. Turbo wanted to have a conversation about the dark.
Note, my daughter, drama, slept like a log through the whole thing. The worst windstorm in more than a decade, and she sleeps through it...
Est. time, 8 a.m. phone rings, but no one is there, I can't get service anymore. All I can do is send text messages every third attempt. Power still out. I figure, well, (becasue I had no way of hearing news) I'll get in my truck and just go to Starbucks. Pack up all the kids, head out, and realize, wow, all the traffic lights don't work. At all. Go home. Grumbling. NO COFFEE!
Later on, I find out Fred Myer is open and another grocery store, they are on generator power. Based on prior experience of people not being idiots on the road, I head out. Basically, every driver treated the light intersections like four way stops. They were very courteous.
Apparently, Fred Myer is the place to be during a power outage. It was packed. I bought Thomas pajamas for the boys, since they didn't have warm pajamas and it looked like the power would be off for the day and night. They were out of D batteries but that was okay, I already had some.
It's amazing, the human drive to go out and congregate when your creature comforts are taken away. I think we'd be a lot more social as a nation if we had less toys to keep us occupied at home. I mean, people were laughing and chatting and buying canned goods, clothes, Christmas trees, food for grills since nobody could actually use their electric ovens, things like that...
I also picked up some cold dinner goodies. All my refrigerated products were already outside, keeping cool in the freezing cold. Except for my turkey which was hardly likely to defrost in 24 hours.
I spent Friday night in front of our gas fireplace *gas and water worked* with two happily playing toddlers who would occasionally exclaim "Mommy, got to fix the power station" and a very bored ten year old. Ah yes, we relaxed by candlelight. I sent everyone to bed at 8, putting the boys in my bed since there was no way they would willingly go to bed in their dark room with no lights... also, I was afraid if I put them in their beds, they'd kick off the covers. As it was, all night I had to replace the covers over Bear who kept kicking them off.
Happily, power was restored this morning, but there are still hundreds of thousands of people who don't have power, so we're just lucky. Also, while Thursday was a mild night, temperature wise, and Friday wasn't that bad, temperatures today dropped. I could see my breath, and it's supposed to get chillier. It was chilly enough in our house before the temperature dropped! I had my daughter under two blankets and a super warm mink blanket on top of those. The boys were wrapped in their blankets, fleece blankets and my down comforter, in flannel jammies.
When the lights came on, all the children cheered.
Mommy cheered when the coffee pot made it's brewing noises.
I'm considering, when we finally make the move to colorado, of purchasing a generator, and oil lamps... I mean, three kids, no power... no cofee... someone's bound to go insane.
***also, fence not that bad, neighbor says fiance is fixing it, and just needs metal brackets.
***however, in wind storm, gate broke.. bro in law is fixing that, I'm sending him measurements tomorrow.. it just needs a piece of plywood nailed to it and the block of wood with the lock readjusted.
Thursday, December 14, 2006
I knew we were going to have high winds late tonight and tomorrow so, I went to the store to, yes, stock up. I had groceries, but no munchies, and I seriously needed munchies. It's not that I expected to be trapped in my house due to high winds, but lets face it, when you have winds strong enough to fell trees into houses, rains heavy enough to cause 'urban and small streams flooding' and two three year olds and a ten year old, do you really want to have to run to the store, in that weather?
Turns out, I'm not the only one who thought that way.
There was a traffic jam right outside my neighborhood due to a lane closure due to said urban flooding, and the store was packed. It wasn't comforting halfway through it when the lights started flickering. On the way home, I, for the first time ever, flipped someone off, because I insisted on not turning left because there was, well, oncoming traffic. The nerve of me. On the way home I hit blinding rain, now I HATE driving in blinding rain, the rain that comes down so fast you can barely see out your window, and I don't understand how people in those weather conditions can continue to do the same speed. I HAVE to slow down, because I can't see. But no one else ever does. It drives me nuts. But I only live ten minutes from the store so it wasn't a big deal. However, I couldn't turn left into my neighborhood because traffic was thick and nobody felt inclined to leave intersections clear. I drove up to the traffic light and watch the rain literally pushed across the road by the wind, it was pretty neat. I also found out rain and wind put my boys to sleep... good to know... Then, BAM power went out on the other side of the road. Ugh. So I took my turn and drove home in time to feed the kids dinner, do some 'get the house ready to sell' stuff, talk to my little brother, and collect the flashlight from Turbo (he wanted to sleep with it, someone's scared of the dark) before the power went out. Twice.
I expect sometime during the night we may lose power longer, but usually it's not too bad, because we live close to the powerstation, so it never takes too long to get back on.
And was that not the most incredibly dull, monotonous, boring blog ever?
Right then, the lights are flickering, time to post....
Monday, December 11, 2006
And it can't get back up.
And I can't put it back up.
And I have no money to give to someone to put it up.
Fracken crappen luck.
Stupid wind storms.
Anyone know how to fix a fence?
I bet it's garden karma. This happened because I let the garden go. The gnomes were angry. When the wind blew and the rains fell, the gnomes saw their chance, and went for it. I think I heard them laughing as they pushed the fence over....
Sunday, December 10, 2006
I saw him on the television airing of LoTR
what is he without the pomp of the media frenzy? without Hollywood to help him keep that constant wet-hair and permanent five day stubble look? Who is he without that big sword and his fruity elf friend, who, mind you, still looks pretty?
I mean, I'm trying, I'm really trying here, but I think I'm in trouble here, I'm suffering a major paradox shift or something, because Frodo's looking pretty good, Arragorn a bit, well, preachy and bossy and 'oh i'm all kingly like.'
Oh the despair, oh how it makes me broody and contemplative and um, despair-ey and somehow, cute...
ahhhh hep me hep me must...not...fall...for....despairey hobbits....
Next, it'll be Boromir....
I must say though, I've always liked Faramir.
And how, you may wonder, is this relevant?
It's not, really. It's just on, and oh wait, wait, he's speaking elvish... nah, false alarm.
the point is...
I'm turning into a hobbit.
Saturday, December 09, 2006
It's 1:22 a.m. on a Saturday night and I'm up. I'm have a wild time, here, with my laptop, on my couch, with my sons, who are up, and not sleeping, while I'm tired, because I've had a long day and just spent three hours doing half of my 30 question management accounting final,sons and of half those answered, I've guessed on half, so we shall see how that goes. I would be going to bed now, seeing as I'm tired, however, my sons are sitting here, one sitting next to me, 'sharing' the laptop, the other standing there, pointing out the colors...
Saturday night as a mom.
Nothin' can beat it.
Monday, December 04, 2006
In case anyone doesn't have personal experience in this particular area of life, unemployment sucks the big one. It's awful, especially when it lingers, pathetically so, when it's near the holiday season, and awfully so when it lasts more than a month, and even more tremendously so when you have a family of mouths to feed.
So thankfully, he's off to Colorado to his job which he starst next Monday. I think the two of us are suitably scarred by this experience. If life as a suburban mom for the past two years wasn't enough to convince me I'm the type of person that actually needs to work, than the horror of not having any income coming in at all has cured me. We will forever be a two-income family, unless, you know, the lottery, millions fall from the sky, likely things like that....
The house is a disaster but most of the major projects in preparation of home selling are done. That just leaves me with painting, window screen repair, more painting, packing and painting, cleaning, yardwork, more cleaning and some painting, along with sealing doors.
I am looking forward to Colorado for three reasons: This place has been nothing but a boring, droll lonely place with droll, boring, days and droll boring people that I never even got past 'nice weather we are having.' Two, I am excited about getting a job, which I could do here, except I like reason three, which is, FOUR SEAONS. A real winter, spring, summer and fall combo. Not this one season of rain and chill with a month of summer.
I'm also looking forward to a nice, family friendly, slower pace of life.
Okay lets face it. I have hated it here pretty much since we've been here, except for the first three months when I was busy unpacking.
Now my husband is sad, but I think it's because he's going to miss us and because moving is a pain, but I'm sure that once he gets there, he'll look back here and realize what a really not 'us' kinda place this place is. I mean really.
I find it interesting. I was happy on the East, he was miserable. He was happy on the West, I was miserable. So now we're moving smack dab in the middle. Talk about compromise.
So, here's to being sad he's leaving, being happy he's going to be earning a paycheck, hoping for a quick sale on the house in the New Year, and a sudden pathetic realization that in the past two years I've lived here, I count not one soul as even an acquaintance... I don't even have an acquaintance! Seriously? What numb-nut ever said people in this part of the country were friendly? Lordy lord me.
And my husband loved it. Of course he did, he's a recluse at heart. What's not to love for a recluse than a state of people that don't speak to you?
I just hope one of them buys my house next February.
Saturday, December 02, 2006
I hardly EVER get invited to these things, and what do I do, but go and be late?
I wonder if I could impersonate a Borg caterer? Maybe I can get temporarily assimilated and slip in that way. Nah, too risky.
Well, a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. I'm sure I've got a tight little ensign outfit hanging around. I'll have to practice my pouty sultry please let me in looks, but it's been a while since I've had to resort to such measures, so lets hope the crew is half into their drinks...
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
There was no milk. No whole milk. No 2 percent milk. No fat free milk. No lactose intolerant people milk. Why, not even a soy milk.
So I went home and checked the weather report.
Now, my good friend over at More Gravy will totally understand why, upon noticing the one thing, I checked the other. And sure enough, tonight's forecast calls for snow showers.
Not a lot of snow showers mind you. Not the New-England-Blizzard-store-up-the-soup-and-get-the-sleds-out snow showers, or the Colorado-is-buried-again-roads-are-closed-til-spring snow showers, no, Just a night of snowfall. And yet, all the milk is gone. Which of course, means that Drama will have no school tomorrow.
This brings me to my gripe. My entire justification for being okay about moving to Colorado is the snow. The lack of seasons here (and the lack of nice people, I know they are here somewhere, you can't have an entire state of not nice neighbors and people, but for the life of me I haven't found them). And now it snowed.
See people, this is what I mean about Washington, it messes with you.
So all i have to do really, in situations like this, is reiterate what M. one of my friends back in Virginia said to me, quite a few times: Well, if it's so great out there, why does it have one of the highest suicide rates in America?
Which, apparently, statistically, isn't true, but they are a moodier lot, so I can see why people would think that.
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
In other news, I'm watching Sci-Fi's ghost hunters. Now, I do believe in ghosts, however, I seriously doubt that Sci-Fi's ghost hunters have ever actually filmed a ghost on tv, heard one, or convinced me with their crazy creepy music and green-light film, and silly conversations with ghosts, and sudden 'OMIGOSH DID YOU HEAR THAT AAAHHH' that they have.
It cracks me up.
What I would like to hear?
A ghost suddenly come on and say "Leave me alone you pestering buffoons with your silly loud gadgets..."
I mean, how do we even know that ghosties register on like, electrical richter scales or whatever the hell they use?
anyhow, it's entertaining and funny so there is that.
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
I will not, however, pretend to be a Cowboy's fan. I can respect the new QB. I can respect the comeback they've been making. However, I will not wear a Cowboys jersey. (Unless he buys me one and I run out of shirts because I haven't done the laundry.)
I love the Patriots. I enjoy the way some of the other teams play. But Parcells annoys me. The Cowboys annoy me. Not gonna happen.
I don't really know where to post 'garage sale' signs, but I think I can post one to the tree where I've seen other ones.
I also don't expect too many people to show, seeing as it's like, you know, the number one shopping day in America.
I don't actually want a garage sale. I'd rather just donate the books and craiglist the kids crap, but hey, what do I know. I'll probably hold the sale on Dec. 9, now that I think of it :).
Sunday, November 19, 2006
Like so many other bloggers, I've been following this blog. He lost his beloved young wife of ten years, and mother to two children, after she was admitted to the hospital with what they thought was a bad case of the flu, but turned into a severe infection.
It's a reminder to listen to those who preach that jobs, cars, homes, clothes, toys, things, credit ratings can be bought, replaced, fixed, recovered, but people, and their lives, are precious, and oftentimes, dwelling on jobs, cars, homes, clothes, toys, we forget the people that do matter most in our lives.
Most importantly, it's a man sharing the most profound grief, and a lot of pain, with a world of strangers, a journal that consistently pays tribute to his wife while dealing with the day-to-day, one-thing-at-a-time, world that won't stop turning, won't wait, for him. As he said, tomorrow still comes. Today is Sunday, tomorrow will be Monday, then it will be Tuesday, and it goes on.
So my thoughts are with him, and though they may not be much, maybe thoughts do count for something.
I'm super looking forward to Colorado, but the truth is, until we finish the floors and stairs and get rid of the junk, I'm not really thinking about it. I envision us being there in March.
But, our house is in turmoil right now, so it's hard to be all like 'yeah we're selling the house and leaving.' I'm going to alleviate that next week by packing some of the boys toys up and moving more stuff into the garage where McRed will be doing dump trips and putting all the 'sell/get rid of/packed stuff.
The good news is, where I live, seems to be one of the cities that have lower inventory and higher demand, because it's slowly turning posh. There is only one other home for sale in our neighborhood.
I will feel better once the house is on the market, Dec. 1.
Friday, November 17, 2006
Thursday, November 16, 2006
I think she chose to believe it, because challenging me would only result in a lengthy discussion about why I had to clean her room, and what the three trash bags included...
It's not yet real to my tween that we are indeedy moving. I mean, it's there, looming on the horizon, but kids live in the present. This is why it's hard for her to accept that she and the boys are switching rooms. Not because we are giving away her room, but because as soon as the house goes up for sale, it's not her room. It's a show room. Half her things will be packed away. We are switching rooms because her room is bigger and the boys beds and bureau will fit without looking weird. She threw a fit and pointed out how she didn't want to move. Not really an option. I'm not even sure how she got the bigger room. I mean really.
So McRed is doing floors and I'm still packing and purging. Ugh. I need to do some serious packing this weekend. I'm surrounded by books and books and aaahhh.
I can't believe I'm saying this, but I can't wait til February. I want to skip the entire holiday season this year. It's just in the way....
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
We got some maybe good news. His new company is trying to get him a corporate move rate... sweet.
This is "Move to Colorado" Stage One.
This week is pack -n- purge. We packed-n-purged the hall closet. Do you know how many shoes you will never wear again lurk there, along with the one-half of a pair of gloves, too-small winter hats and the Thomas the Tank water shoe your train-obsessed son has been looking for for three days and has now worn consecutively for four? (Blame his brother who stole the first pair and taunted him with it).
I purged the Master Bedroom closet (look, lets face it, I'm never going to be a size 8 in the next three years, see, I'm not saying never ever, I'm saying never for a while) and by then my size 8s will not be in style anymore. I'm also never going to wear that blue and white striped throwback to the 80's shirt. Gone. Gone. Gone.
We've purged our books.
We've purged toys.
We're purging Drama's room one day while she's in school. (Yes, good parents with compassion involve their tween in the process, but we're evil bad parents who don't want to deal with the emotional drama involved in throwing away a torn, half-the-pages-missing book and several headless barbie bodies along with creative artwork involving old clothing tags and cardboard...I occasionally think the original packrat has been reincarnated in my daughter) We purged hubby's GASP Dungeons and Dragons Memorabilia OH HORRORS yes. We are going to try to sell and then toss what we don't. Anyone want some D&D boxes sets cheap? How about some first, second and third edition D&D books? Will ship.... GASP HOW COULD YOU WOMAN? Yep. It's that time, time to let the past, which easily weighs 300 pounds and would rack up our moving bill, go.
We're also (Hubby) purging three computers. Yes, we have a total of eight computers in this house. Two laptops for mom and dad, one desk pc for me, two for Hubby (Seriously, I know. Do you think I bought all this electronic crap? I mean, 8? And he needs two on his desk and a laptop? You so don't have to tell me. And all this AFTER he told me he was done building computers.) and one for Drama. We were going to do two for the boys, but have decided they can wait on their own personal computers and share with sissy for a while. NewEgg will be getting a shipment from us soon.
I'm trying to get our books down to two boxes... AHHH HA HA ha ha ha
After this week, it's home improvement time. Now, while I"m doing most of the pack -n- purge, have no fear, for home improvement is all about the Hubby. Go McRed, Go. Do that floor. Get that carpet. Muahahah.
Friday, November 10, 2006
So I am free now to say I don't like it. It's not that there's anything bad about it. I can see why lots and lots and lots of people do like it. I just don't. I like the rain. What I didn't realize is, get this, I miss, the COLD. I need four seasons. I can't do with just three. spring and fall being one, a long rainy winter that meshes with rainy springs and rainy falls, and a few weeks of blistering heat in the summer. I miss snow. I miss crisper falls. I want more foliage. I want to see my breath more than one month out of the year. No, this doesn't mean you should ship me off to Wisconsin, though I've been there and it's really pretty and where we discovered our love of log cabin homes, and I've already been to North Dakota, and I liked North Dakota, so that should tell you something. And I'm sorry, I am too lazy to 'just drive an hour to the snow' I want it to land on my porch.
I'm a cozy, cuddly, sweaters and long tees kinda gal. I want slippers. I love L.L. Bean clothing. It never really gets cold here. I can't justify shearling slippers and thermals. Seattle is great, unless you're the type who likes to be cold and miserable, which I am. It's not Seattle, it's me. Seriously. I've lived in places where I've clicked, and places where I haven't. I haven't clicked here. I clicked with Virginia, though honestly it could do with a bit more snow. I clicked with England. I clicked with North Dakota even. Okay I may not have clicked with North Dakota, but we had a blast while it lasted. Like, you know, one of those things that happened and you really enjoyed it but you knew it couldn't last... and yes, I left a friend up there, and she thinks North Dakota is a bastard, so you know I'm right...
Anyhow, I was sure we'd get on, Seattle and me. Shoot, on paper we do. Rain. Love rain. Gardens. Love gardens. Ports. Love ports. Coffee. Runs through my veins. So you see, it seemed right. I'm still not entirely sure what went wrong. It just wasn't meant to be. It's just one of those things. No matter how badly you wanted it to work, it just never could. And that's what happened. So I would recommend Seattle, to others, you know, becuase we can still be friends. It's not like Massachusetts, you know. Some relationships just can never be worked out.
Now there are things I will miss about this area. Good things. Like the fact that I live in the Starbucks Nexus. Never have I ever been in want of a cup of coffee. The amazing community programs the town I live in has. The really nice teachers at my kid's school. The curb appeal of most homes, because of the state law which requires all Northwesterners to be garden fanatics. Things like that.
But there are things my husband and I have realized about ourselves, when we sat down when all the shittola hit the fannola and the crappolla started. We hate his commute. We, it turns out, actually like each other, so his hour long commute in the morning and evening makes us miserable. He comes home, eats, watches the Daily Show and that's it for the night folks. The kids don't see him as much and there's no way he can ever make Drama's gymnastics or any of the games the boys would eventually play in. The inaffordability of housing makes living close to his work not possible. The other thing we learned, he likes to be cold and miserable too. He misses snow, and can't wait to snowblow his first driveway. He enjoyed snowblowing our driveway in North Dakota, but I think it was the novelty really. Of course, when we do have a new driveway to snowblow, we can do a 'how many snowstorms til he's sick of it' kinda poll. So it's off to cozy snow land for us, land of Blizzards and Broncos. Now, I'm not like, a big fan of blizzards, I don't think, oooh a blizzard, I want to go there, I'm just saying, I like weather.
So here's what I'm looking forward to. White Christmases. I grew up with them, and I think when you, as a child, have White Christmases, the lack of them makes you just a little sad. Seeing my breath on the air. Crisp, cold air hitting my face. Warm fires to cuddle by. A legitimate reason to wear bulky sweaters, effectively camoflauging the winter pounds. The joy of watching my children the eve of every snowfall, giddily hoping for school cancellations. The exuberance when the cold ice and snow starts to melt and while it's still cold, you can smell spring in the air, on that first warm wind in March, followed by the shocking snowstorm April 2nd (though that may just be a New England thing). Summers that last just long enough to be missed, and springs that burst from cold, hard ground into beautiful early blooms.
Anyone wanna buy a house in the Seattle area?
I do not expect people from warmer climates to understand this desire to be cold and miserable, or the longing for white Christmases. Just like I can't understand the desire to live somewhere with sweltering humidity, like Georgia, where my little brother lives, and will probably never leave. I also don't expect people who live in Seattle to understand why we couldn't just be.
Thursday, November 09, 2006
Saturday, October 28, 2006
One Queen Album on Extra Loud with me Singing Extra Loud
One Guns N Roses Album, Me Singing Loud
One Lynard Skynnard Album, one beer, me singing,a and now, at "Gimme Three Steps" I am now resembling something that could be possibly mistaken as calm.
Dont count on it though.
Thursday, October 26, 2006
The children are being loud.
So my head pounds even more.
I'm at that age where I"m just too old to ignore my very miserable head cold. The only thing stopping me from drowning in theraflu is that I had the last drowsy one last night.
All I have left is the one that proclaims 'may cause drowsiness.' May? May? Not for me. It does nothing except taste bad. Now, the one that says 'may cause marked drowsiness' that's the theraflu of choice. That one put me in a nice state of obliviousness.
Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to sneeze and bury myself under a blanket on the couch and pretend I'm not home.
Someone please come over and make the children lunch.
Sunday, October 22, 2006
The end result of this, however, is that after two days of fever-sniffly baby-of-mine breathing phlegmatic fumes into my face, I got sick. So sick, that McRed let me sleep til 10, cleaned the entire kitchen, and let me lay about all day Friday. So then I'm recovering.
Oh but No. Twin A, our dear Turbo, on Saturday, then got a fever. And he got a Fever. Along with the serious crankies. This one was not content to sleep on the couch or the black chair, or just lay about watching Diego episodes over and over. Oh no. He needed to cry and fuss, and whine, he wanted juice he didn't want juice, he wanted cereal, he didn't want cereal, Up, no Up, hug, no hug, Thomas, no Thomas, finally, he wanted night night, and he would sleep only to wake up all cranky again. He also spent the night in our bed, but this being Turbo, we were woken up by our personal heat radiator, who suddenly got the energy that some feverish children get. One a.m. and where are we? In the living room watching him play trains.
Finally we get to sleep, only to be exhausted at 10 a.m this morning. Me, who WAS getting better now sicker, and Twin B awake and cheery. Turbo finally passed out for four hours on the couch this morning. Twin B, our Bear, literally walked up to me around 1, and when I picked him up, fell asleep two minutes later.
QUICK, HONEY, NAP!
And that's why I can't sleep now.
1237 words tonight.
That is great. The more nights like this, the quicker this is finished. I actually like this novel better than the first one (which I'm sorely neglecting, and really need to edit).
So chapters one and two are done. WOOT.
Now, the State of Rooms
Yes, it's time to rearrange the house, yet again. This set-up is probably one we'll stick with. We've decided to put all household computers in the finished basement. This means I can come down here and write and work out of sight of the messy kitchen and encroaching laundry issues. It also means that the boys will actually come down here and play in the large play area they have down here now.
I like it a lot. I'm also glad Drama's computer is out of her room. It was too crowded in there with it, and I didn't like not being able to monitor how much time she spent on the computer.
Of course, now we have to clean up the mess from all the moving.
McRed is on a huge House-Purging Mission, so soon, all clutter will be removed.
Friday, October 20, 2006
Stuff happened in Chapter One. But not much in this chapter. I'll probably have something happen at the end.
But for now I'm stuck on it, so I'm going to go and edit my first draft of my first novel. I honestly am not sure about that first novel, but I think if I rewrite it, it'll be better.
Tomorrow we go to a pumpkin farm, hay rides and corn maze, and hopefully they sell hot cider because I've got a cold and I'm sneezing and freakin' cold no matter how nice it is.
My husband is currently de-clutterizing the house. He's decided we have too much junk. He's right, of course, but I was never quite up to actually doing anything about it. Next week I jump in and am getting rid of most of our clothes, you know, the ones no one's worn in years but we still keep for some reason... Gone. The idea is to have no clutter.
Ha ha ha.
Thursday, October 19, 2006
I have no interest in working in this field ever again. If I do work, I would prefer it to be in an entirely different field, one that would require a different degree entirely.
In one hour, I'm starting my writing. I must write daily, for at least two hours, either in the morning or the evening. If I don't, I get grumpy with myself and give me a lecture. Considering how good I am at lectures, the last thing I need is one from me.
So in one hour I have to clean the kitchen and clear out the three weeks of mail I have been ignoring.
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
I'm eager to start my second novel. I'm trying to think if I should rewrite during the day, and do the second novel at night. Not sure yet.
I had three stories to work on, and finally settled on one that is kinda dark but humorous, dark humor. How so me.
I finally decided to write in the first person for this novel. It sounds like a silly decision, but really, it matters!
Sunday, October 15, 2006
My little brother made me.
Now I am Lady Lahdeeda at My Space, but I think it's actually ladylahdeeda.
I don't know.
Apparently, I'm now 'with it' but only kinda, because I can't figure out how to a) change the background colors and add funky stuff to it and b) I only have one friend and c) nobody I know besides my one friend, who's actually related so doesn't really count, has a my space account.
I'm really just a pretender.
And what's worse, I don't even have a hot, sexy-suburban-momma-with-boobs-in-a-low-cut shirt-shot to post as my profile!
I'll have to have McRed take a picture ha ha ha.
Friday, October 13, 2006
Gym: whatever, I hate the gym except for like in the winter so not likely to happen.
On another note:
Today's goal is to do a bunch of my midterm before Dr. Who.
Priorities people, priorities.
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
Sunday, October 08, 2006
My husband is a die-hard Cowboys fan, so I watched the game today.
I usually mock my husband, and enjoy Cowboy losses, but sometimes, sometimes they are so painful to watch you can't joke, you must sympathize, and say "Yes dear, I don't blame you for crying, crawling up into a ball and crawling in a hole for a few weeks."
You see, their quarterback, has... connection issues. He can't connect with the freakin' two awesome receivers the team has. Nor could he manage to avoid getting sacked a mere SEVEN TIMES... I believe the Eagles may be paying him, now, since that pretty 102 yard run from the Cowboys end zone to the Eagle's end zone... It should have tied the game, it should have let them win, but noooo... instead, it gives the Eagles a clear victory.
Out of sympathy, my husband's friend and I forbade him to come out of the kitchen during some of the worst moments (making chili) but it wasn't enough. He saw. He cried. I mean HOW many turnovers?
I pity McRed for being a Cowboys fan.
Thursday, October 05, 2006
I love making apple cobbler.
I love the smells of apple and cinnamon filling the air.
I love standing with my daughter at the counter mixing spices and flour, teaching her how to cut margerine into the dry ingredients and listening to her prattle on about completely irrelevant nonsensical things like how she is going to put a cinnamon stick in her tea and how she loves the smell of cinnamon and apples, too.
I love standing next to this kid who isn't a baby and isn't quite a big girl but is no longer little, with her need for motherly affection still strong.
I love the toddlers running around my legs, sneaking apples and playing on the floor right near where mommy is, occasionally wanting to help, always wanting a bite or twelve. I love my husband sniffing the air and coming to investigate and to see how long before he gets a piece of cobbler.
I love how the scents mix in the air to make the house smell like baking pies, and how it makes everything seem warmer, cozier, happier.
I love how apple cobbler makes my house smell like a real home, how often they will smell apples or cinnamon, and associate it with happiness and a pleasant kitchen with vinyl tile flooring and formica counters where mom made apple cobbler. (Some are lucky, and have pleasant memories of wood, or tile flooring... my children will remember imitation-slate vinyl cheerily, while I'm stuck with a fondness for red-brick linoleum)
My husband is the same way about his beef stew, and I get this way about other things, as well.
Things like my onion soup, bannana loaf bread (when I get around to making it), and pumpkin pie. I don't get it just from boxed brownies or ready-made cookies though. I need the whole process, from flour and sugar to pouring it in the baking pan.
Now, riding the wave of this pleasant evening, I'm going to make a cup of chai tea (vanilla, mmm) plop myself down on my comfy slip-covered couch, and read a comfortable book. Comfortable being, I've already read it five times...
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
p.s. no pox. just maybe a boil and a spider bite...
Sunday, October 01, 2006
Turbo was sporting a teen-aged sized pimple on his knee, and not knowing what the hell it was, we popped it. EWWW. And then were like, 'wow, that's pretty deep' and 'hmm, it left a little pock' and while that comment didn't trigger anything at the moment, it did give me enough pause to check out the rest of him, but I found nothing.
Now, a couple of days ago, I decided the boys were coming down with something, because they've been irritable. Last night, Turbo was a little feverish and we gave him some tylenol.
Today, I notice, on his wrist, another rather large pimple forming, and then, a smaller one on his chin, and a teeny one behind his ear....
Out come the 'what ailment does your child have' books and then I go bother my favorite relatives, the life-flight, medic guy who will be attending medical school to become a pediatrician and his 'was a corpman in the Navy and now study microbiological boogies' wife.
Looks like chicken pox.
Send your kids over.
Now, I wasn't expecting this, because, they were vaccinated. It's a common vaccine. Unless you stomp and holler and say "NO" they vaccinate your kid for this. So hopefully, due to this vaccine, it will be mild.
Pox. Two weeks stuck indoors with a grumpy, itchy, pimply cranky toddler.
Three if Bear gets it.
Drama has been vaccinated and is nine. If she gets it, I'm grounding her.
But for the moment, I must do my duty and inform the playgroup and the gym time they attended that the pox is about...
And, it may not even be the pox. He's only got the three... could be something else that will go away really fast on it's own, I would hate to jump to conclusions...
Friday, September 29, 2006
The new Dr. Who....
Season's One Dr. Who was sooo good that I was really worried I wouldn't like the Season Two Doctor (because honestly, you can never have too many things to worry about) ANYHOW....
Season Two Dr. Who, love him. As much as the Season One Dr. Who, but in a different way. They did a really good job picking the 'right' Dr. Who characters, but I hope this guy lasts longer than a season or two.
I just don't get the suits with tennis shoes.
I mean, who can REALLY get away with that.
Thursday, September 28, 2006
My ten year old is um, well.
There's been a slight change.
Not a big one. Not even really much of one in the um, size really, it's just more of an hum, hmm, um, ahh, a slight protrusion really, I suppose... some budding maybe
and I can't decide,
undershirts or training bra? Because sometimes undershirts don't seem to um, cover it all you see? Sooo
she's not even ten. Maybe just thicker undershirts?
Maybe a mix of both, depending on her outer shirt.
The kicker? I told her,
"well, um, I think you know, these (pointing to self) might be um, you know, starting to grow, because, um, they will, one day you know."
Okay, not the most savvy way to put it, but I've been putting all my energy into preparing for the 'BIG TALK' not the little ones and OMIGOSH I just found out they do HIV/AIDS awareness next year, so I need to have it THIS year.
Yeesh. My mom waited til I was 12. Course, I knew since I was 9 sooo....
Daughter: Yeah I know, they are already starting.
Me: and you noticed but never TOLD me? ARGH.
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
That's right folks,
The mean mom neighbor and her mean bully daughter with their nice but reserved and confusing lawn-mowing gnome husband and the normal son....
put their house up for sale!
We will actually miss the nice, reserved but confusing lawn-mowing gnome husband for obvious reasons but the meanness of the women in that family render his niceness almost obsolete. His son is cute, but not allowed to play with my boys... they have cooties, you see...
Now, I did not gape. I really tried not to. Okay, I may have walked up and down the lenght of my front yard auspiciously checking out the rose bushe and Japanese Maple growth, but that was all. My daughter might have gaped openly, but she's only ten. The point is, there was a sign out on their lawn that is clearly a real estate sign. I was good. I did not gleefully flit over there smiling and yelping, "So, You're moving? Really? GREAT."
No. I did not.
Instead, hubby and I speculated.
Top Ten Reasons Mean Mom Neighbor is packing up her Mean Bully Kid and husbando con el toddlero:
10. She doesn't want her daughter associating with my daughter, the bad influence.
9. She doesn't want her son to have to go to school with my sons, who are close in age, and no. 10.
8. The neighborhood's going to hell because there are too many renters and our HoA refuses to change the ten-percent rental rate (apparently, the downfall of the nation are the renters secretly residing in neighborhoods willfully lowering house values with their transient non-lawn-mowing, non-HoA-joining commie ways)
7. She thinks we are renters because we don't mow our lawns, and it's bad enough there are renters in the neighborhood, but to live next to one...
6. All the other mom's in the neighborhood told Mean Bully Girl they can't play with their children (I'm not the only one who banned the little brat, and the third one that expressed how rotten she was, but unlike the other moms, I blame the parentel figures)
5. She suddenly realized she's superior to all the rest of us middle-class, non-pretentious folk living in a merely decent neighborhood, doing their own lawns and house cleaning, and high-tailed it to a neighborhood where someone else will do her landscaping and cleaning, and she'll have 2,000 sq more feet to preside over, all reign her suburban majesty.
4. Our neighborhood park doesn't have swings, but does have brown, dying grass, mowed of course.
3. It's a facade, she's a renter and her landlord is selling the house. They are moving to a manufactured home in the country.
2. Her children have been discovered for the child prodigy's they are, and they are moving to Boston and enrolling their children in Harvard.
1. Her husband found another job somewhere else, far far away, in another school district ties with Mean Mom studied the housing market, and feared that if she was ever going to get her suburban paradise, she had to sell modest suburbia now.
Yes 1. is dull, but the most realistic.
And yes, this is a TOTALLY catty mean blog about our neighbor, but I am honestly glad she's going. There is just this atmosphere around her, that brings you down. She's gossipy and mean spirited and judgemental and has made it hard for my kid to go out and play cuz of her mean kid. How can I be sad to see her go?
She's another person who deserves to be loved too, and I'm sure she's nice to some people, and if she was nicer to me, and more importantly fair to my kid, I'd probably be nicer about her. But seeing as she wasn't, and seeing as this is my blog, /mean on.
Monday, September 25, 2006
"Numb? I don't feel numb."
"You don't feel numb?"
"Here?" they pat my chin.
"Here?" they flip my lip.
"Hmm. We'll have to write this in your chart."
And then they give me TONS of anesthesia, so much in fact, that they not only numbed the tooth area, and the gums, but also my tongue.
Slo I talth lithe thisth the reth of the thay anth I coulthn't eath at ahl unthil lithe mithnighth.
ANYHOW I had another appointment today.
"That is REALLY a small cavity."
"Do you want to try it without the topical?"
"Um," and I thought about it.
Because what she was really asking me was, "Is a little bit of discomfort marked with one quick real painful, but fleeting, moment better than a numbed mouth and an inability to eat or speak for the next 24 hours?"
So I went sans topical.
"Are you okay?"
drill drill drill
"ugh huh uh huh"
YOWZA OLY CRAP SHIT MAN OUCH THAT FUCKING HURT WHAT THE HELL WOMAN DID YOU HAVE TO GO STRAIGHT FOR THE NERVE
"Okay we're done, was that bad?"
Reward for that moment of pain?
The ability to speak normally, drink coffee and eat sometime before tomorrow.
Sunday, September 24, 2006
Nice neighbor girl finally invited Drama Girl over. Turns out, I was right. Mean girl next door who's too young for Drama isn't allowed to play with her. It seems, however, her power extends over to nice neighbor girl, for when she's over nice neighbor girl's house, nice neighbor can't call Drama.
I told Drama that she can play with nice neighbor girl, and go over her house and invite her over and all that, but as soon as stuff starts up about 'you can't play with me cuz mean girl is coming over' or 'i can't come over cuz mean girl wants to play' then she's got to just say whatever.
We're encouraging her to hang out with kids in her class who are her own age. It's not her fault all the kids on this street are too young for her. The other friend is a year older and always at another girl's house so they are all paired up. I told her to get phone numbers from the kids in her class in our neighborhood. She walks home with a few of them.
I've just had enough of this crap, which is part of the reason she's got the extra curricular activities. It's just the weekends that bore her I think, so I'll have to kick her out and encourage her to call her schoolmates more often.
Friday, September 22, 2006
I'm using this color font because it matches the red in my eyes after all this not-sleep I've been getting.
After my insomniac night, my sons, lovely darlings, woke up at 5 a.m. I put my foot down though, or rather, didn't. I stayed in bed, and refused to budge. I simply said to McRed "You went to bed at 9. I didn't get to bed til 2. I'm not getting up and making coffee yet. I'll be up later." His idea, great to him, was that since ONE of us had to get up, why not BOTH of us get up at what time again? FIVE A.M. and drink coffee together. Ha. I put off getting up til a whole whopping 6:30 a.m. ignoring whatever grumpy remarks he uttered after I buried my head under the comforter. THEN we had coffee together.
I got my sons down for an early nap after their art class, thankfully, and then took a snoozer myself. My hope is now that everyone is caught up in sleep, they will oh I don't know SLEEP tonight.
I'm going to make coffee now, (only my fourth cup!) and attempt to clean up the mess that has occurred while I've been sleep deprived.
It's 1 a.m. and I have to be up early to take Drama to the dentist. I haven't had a decent night's sleep in a week. I'm so tired my eyes hurt, but whenever I shut them, they pop open. Massive insomnia AND I have to deal with two cranky toddlers at a ten a.m. art class.
Somebody, help me survive tomorrow....
Thursday, September 21, 2006
1. On the Beach, my first nuclear holocaust read
2. 1984, read it multiple times, it's still creepy
3. Mists of Avalon, a female legend revolving around King Arthur, read it several times, still own it
4. The Stand, still one of the spookiest novels ever, kept me up as a teenager til 3 a.m.
5. Through a Glass Darkly, one of the few romance novels I consider great, though hard to find now
6. Conrad's War, a pre-teen book during my 'love of all things army' phase
7. All the Children Were Sent Away, another pre-teen book during my 'love of all things war' phase
8. Wild Swans, Three Daughters of China, great book based on the lives of three generations of Chinese women during three different phases of the country, from the concubine grandmother to the communist mother to the democratic daughter living abroad, great book.
9. The Lovely Bones, there's just no way that book can't stay with you.
10. The Chronicles of Narnia, might as well be one book. I've tried (unsuccessfuly) to get every child I have influence over to read these books, from my little brother to my eldest daughter.
11. Don't Count Your Chickens Before They Hatch, a book I was forced to read in Fourth Grade, way beneath my reading level (college at that age) because the teacher was not comfortable with my more adult (Sydney Sheldon, I believe) reading choices. It's still one of my favorite sayings, but the book bored me terribly.
12. The Once and Future King, a great book I try to get everyone I know to read, because it's a classic King Arthur tale that's funny.
13. A Canticle for Leibowitz, another book I try to get everyone to read, with little success I might add.
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
Sunday, September 17, 2006
I've made a shaman troll so my husband and I can play and 'level' together in WoW. Of course, this will last for one week, until he decides to play without me one day and level way past me, or I play my gnome (who is level 20 and can make cool bombs and nifty guns) and he plays his shaman, again, leveling up without me.
any of you alliance races want me to smuggle you some phat horde lewt?
Saturday, September 16, 2006
There's a freakin' park right down the road with lots of space to throw the damn ball (which you, apparently, are all incapable of catching) so take your loud annoying pre-teen/teen asses there, where you can all talk smack about the ball you aren't catching....
Update: 20 minutes later...
My ten year old daughter opened her window, greeted the dorks, and asked them to shut the hell up, albeit politely, and now they are missing the ball quieter, and further down the road....
All Fear Queen Drama
Friday, September 15, 2006
I got a planet mom t-shirt (I sooo took advantage of that earlier deal at suburban mom's site, I'm such a shopper) and some of those darker rinse jeans that are apparently 'in' at the moment, and, for these born boots that they sold last year that are not actually popular as far as I can tell, (most of my friends laughed) but I adore them.
I then took my sons to messy time.
Because that is as much 'out' as I get, and while it's perfectly acceptable to wear old jeans and a baggy sweatshirt to a class devoted to painting, play doh and glueing macaroni noodles on paper plates, just occasionally, I want to look 'trendy,' to just for once walk in and have everyone think, 'Hey, that there is some trendy mom' and never you mind that my sons' hair sticks up permanently and not in a trendy spike cut way, and that their shirts may or may not actually match their pants...
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
Tonight, Phase 10...
I will destroy them...
Every Wednesday excepting the second Wed. of each month. It's something we do to insure our eldest doesn't feel like she's odd girl out. Sort of like Friday Night Family Night, only McRed hates the new shows, so it turns out to be Friday Night Pizza Night While Mom and Drama Lounge on Couch.
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
I'm going to check out the local twins club, and see if twin moms are as nutty as I am.
They have playgroups, kick-ass sales and a meeting place right down the road.
I can balance mom's club playgroups with twins club playgroups against gymnastics and messy time ahh ha ha ha. I hardly ever make it to the mom's club playgroups anyhow, though I really do try...
But there's the kick ass sales. Oh, and they have moms nights out. More mom's nights out than the mom's club. The mom's club is restricted to one night out a month. The twins club doesn't seem to have that restriction (i'm hoping). Probably because twin moms, may, possibly, be a bit more desperate than other mom's for a night out... or maybe it's just me.
I'm also considering joining the PTA. The PTA frightens me, but I feel I should do it. Especially since they added that line about 'not having to volunteer...' It's not that I'd mind volunteering occasionally, it's just that I don't have child care lined up for volunteer occasions.
can we please welcome back...all the way from Mongolia....
That's right folks. After spending most of August away in Mongolia with her aunt and uncle who are missionaries in the area, she's returned.
We're so excited to have her back!
...and I do apologize for rushing out the door, leaping at her from my front steps and embracing her in a giant bear hug, kissing her on the cheeks and dancing merrily round her while she was on her way to tutor the neighbor.... but I couldn't help myself.
Date Night is ON
Hey... maybe my husband and I can get lucky...
Sunday, September 10, 2006
So I made my own, but I'm not e-mailing it out, because while I will perpetuate a chain of 'answer these silly questions' e-mail, I won't start one. Disclaimer: I will never send you one of those chain letters like 'this really works, send to ten friends and God will send the lotto numbers to you in a dream, but if you don't, he'll send a flood to your basement....
1: Milk chocolate or chocolate with espresso/coffee/liqueur? Dark chocolate with espresso
2. Morning coffee, tea, or something cold? Coffee coffee coffee
3. Do you own an I-Pod? ayup, for those work outs that I intend to do....
4. Computer for every person in the house plus, one for everyone and no more, or one or two 'family use'? every person plus... can you say 'husband is addicted to computer gadgetry?
5. Pre-schooler more likely to turn on the televsion and change channels, or turn on the computer and close/delete/ files? Turn on puter,sit down and starts typing...
6. Video games, online games, or nothing more than bejweled? Try to play Galactic Civ, love the game, get conquered far too often to stick with it. WoW til I get bored with that, and bejeweled is the devil.
7. Blogger cuz it's fun, blogger cuz you're bored, blogger cuz why not? I'm not actually sure why...
8. Cell phone utilizes every programmable function and all contacts are stored, five contacts are stored the rest are saved in the 'last called' list, cell phones have programmable functions? Five contacts are stored, lost the book, can't program without instruction manual.
9. What kind of residence do you claim, apartment, condo, split level, ranch, farmhouse etc? Split-level.
10. View out the living room window/kitchen window. living room: street and greenbelt. Kitchen, yard, and all my neighbor's yards.
11. Vhere is your computer? In my own mini-office open to the living room, where the dining room table should be.
12. Which coast would you live on if you had your choice? West, and North, where I am, but closer to the ocean or a bit more rural.
13. Favorite season? Fall.
14. When do you hit the sack? Anywhere between 10 and 11 p.m.
15. When does the alarm rip you from dreamland? 6:45 am.
And see since it's not emailed, NO PRESSURE.
Saturday, September 09, 2006
"momma." says the sweet toddling boy.
"momma," he says again, this time closing my mouth with his hands.
"Momma! Do you mind?"
"Momma do you mind momma?"
"Shoosh momma, shoosh."
Thursday, September 07, 2006
Right now, they are screaming about trains, whining about everything and clinging to me to intervene, but I refuse, because then they will only move on to something else to scream, whine, cling or cry about.
So if you'll excuse me,
amidst the noise of crying, screaming, whining, pleading and clinging
I am going to have a nice glass of wine, and pretend I am somewhere else.
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
I've stolen his pda because I'm tired of calling up random places asking if I or any member of my family has an appointment any time in the near future because I could swear maybe I did.
Then, he gave me the laptop. And I got this beauty. I was originally going to go for a similar style but with skulls, but McRed suggested this one might be better. Plus, it matches everything and won't look weird with jeans. Apparently, at McRed's suggestion, my new Saturday morning hangout is a coffee shop with my laptop and some writing. Best thing, it has room for diapers, wipes, a water bottle, and my gadgets, BEST best of all, it has a key clip. I am always losing my keys in the bottomless pit of my purses.
So McRed's really serious about me writing, strictly because he wants me to make money at it... but hey, he believes I can so that gets him bucko points. (please don't consider this blog an accurate gauge of my writing, this is my daily rambly non-edited self here)
Then, I ordered this duo stroller, because I can't find it in the stores anywhere, apparently, I've fallen in love with something new. It gets rave reviews for those who do more walking than jogging but might occasionally want to sprint and have you know, twins. I have to wait a week or two for it to come in, because apparently, the entire country is ordering this stroller, and they are either on back order, or being shipped in October, or you get the idea. I ordered mine off of Amazon, lets see how it works. I'm very excited. For those who I haven't whined to, my stroller was stolen (or left, one can't be too sure of these things) somewhere.
On the edge of a storm of shopping mania, I used my credit card rewards to get me a gift card to Starbucks, Eddie Bauer and Barnes and Noble.
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
Read Tale 2 about Toddler Fashion.
Read Tale 3 about the Durango Distress Call.
Read Tale 4 about the Dark is Coming.
And for those who wondered,
Apparently absolutely nothing happened during the first day of fourth grade.
Brrring brrringg (telephone)
"Lisa. Oh my gawd," drawls my Southernfied younger brother of nine years. When he gets really excited, his drawl gets real bad and I can barely make him out. When he's had a bit too much to drink, I don't know what the hell he's on about. "You own a Durango, right?"
"Yes," I say, clearly and drawl-free.
"What year is it?" says who I shall refer to as Music Boy.
"Oh man. Oh gawd, mine is a '99." Mine? Last I heard, he was lucky to find a place that would rent an apartment to him, and every reputable car dealership had turned his sorry-college-grad-broke, financially-disaster-prone clueless-money-wise brother down. "Listen," he drawls.(I'm not the only one who commands people I'm speaking to to actually listen...)
"My fucking alarm won't stop. I turned the fucking thing on last night when I got home, and I opened the passenger door and now it fucking won't stop and the truck won't start." This language from a music teacher at an elementary and high school in the poshest, priciest part of Georgia, in the Atlanta area. "Did you ever have that happen?"
"Yes, just turn the alarm off with the key fab." Like, Duuuhh.
"I don't have one. I got a copy of the orginal key but that's it." (Sooo umm how'd you turn the alarm off? no no don't ask, you'll be here all day) "I called my landlord and he thought it sucked." Yep, it would suck. "I called dad, he didn't know what the fuck to do he just yelled at me, told me all what I should have done and then bitched at me 'what the fuck Music Boy, how the fuck you gonna get to school tomorrow?' so he wasn't any help." (note about my dad, he's a brilliant man, best father you could ask for, great in a pinch, but when you get yourself in a fix, he can only be helpful if he swears at you, even better if there's a group to swear at or an object. when he can't help you, well, sit yourself down for a nice Sicilian cursing)
I look at McRed.
"Don't give me the phone. I don't want to fucking talk to him." (note, McRed is furious that my brother took 7 years to get his degree on my dad's dime. He doesn't care that he's a musician with half his head permanetly in musical la la creative land, or that the reason he's got this posh position so young is because he's amazingly talented, truly good with kids and an excellent born-teacher, albeit a bit curse-happy, financially disastrous, and honestly, to those who know and love him, filled with angst, nervous energy, and a walking messy wreck truly in need of a wife to settle him down... someone, please... marry him... we fixed him best we could... oh right, so McRed has decided to not speak to him until he's 30, married, or better, a father.
So I look at him again pleafully. McRed says, "there's usually some combination of brake/steering wheel movements to disarm the alarm and allow the truck to start." ummm.
"Okay Music Boy, so you opened the passenger side with the key that's a copy and the alarm turned on?" I ask.
"yeah I dont' fucking know what to do. My landlord didn't know what to do. Dad couldn't help. No one fucking knows what to do." So he calls me, his big sister. I'm touched.
"Okay. So. Did you get out of the truck, shut the doors, lock them, and then open the driver's side door with the key?"
"Naw," the drawl is thickening. "It can't fucking be that. Oh my fucking gawd..." (i truly hope his language is different with the band kids)
I hear a deep throaty engine noise, followed by the exact sound made in the garbage chute scene during Star Wars when they are all about to be crushed but R2-D2 saves the day. Hooting, hollering and sheer joy that lives have just been saved.
I start laughing with him. McRed grins (because he can't believe my idea actually worked).
"Oh my fucking gawd. I LOVE you lahdeeda. I fucking love you. Oh I am not going to tell anyone this shit. It's too fucking embarassing. No fuck that. I'm telling everyone, this shit's fucking funny. Fucking even dad didn't know what the fuck to do. I wasn't gonna call you, cuz I didn't think you could help but then I remembered you had a Durango. oh fucking shit. I LOVE you lahdeeda I fucking LOVE you ahhh ah ah ha ha ha" The drawl is nearing incomprehensible.
"You better call dad and tell him I fucking figured it out." I remind him.
Note to all, whenever I'm the last resort of hope, I usually pull through, this is why people call me. Yet, they all seem surprised when my advice works.
Second note, if you don't believe me about the drawl, it's so bad, once I dialed the wrong number, but didn't realize it until after a twenty-minute conversation with another drawling southerner who, as it so happened, at first thought I was an out-of-state cousin of his wife's, and at second thought, was too polite to interrupt the conversation to let me know he wasn't my brother... which started another conversation... you get the idea.
"Yeah I fucking will. Oh thank gawd. oh man, I fucking love you. I'm fucking gonna send you a thing of Baileys."
"Yeah, send me Bailey's Music Boy, that'd be perfect." It would, too, but he'll never actually get around to shipping it, and quite frankly, he'll buy me a bottle and then drink it. It's our 'thing' that we both love the same favorite drink and the same favorite lunch.
So I go to the mom's business meeting, which, frankly, I find all business meetings boring, but I've been neglecting this one so often, I felt I had to go. Also, I'm getting along better with some of the moms, so I want to sort of 'ride' that wave. I dress the boys (key there, I dress them) and let them have 'choices' in their shirts. We rush out and get there on timeish. The meeting ends and I'm walking down the stairs.
"ooh they are so cute" says a tres trendy mom with flowing black wavy skirt and white polo top, carrying a trendy infant of the non-spit-up variety. "Oooh you let them dress themselves. Most mom's wouldn't agree, but I'm all for that" and I smile. I've got my mom-superior humble face on. I say 'Yes, I let them pick their shirts out" because clearly thats' what she's referring to. The shirts are rather loud, but I'm a bit confused, I didn't think they were THAT loud... a bit perhaps, hawaii-ish, but not that bad... until she says...
'ooh i think it's great. so cute. he's got his pants on backward.'
heh. I say...
'silly turbo! you put your pants on backwards and I didn't even notice....'
The Lawn Mowing Gnome