I have two dream jobs. I'm sure I could think of more but let's just not go there.
The first job was an opportunity I turned down when I was much younger. It was a radio job. It's one of the few times where I wistfully wonder what-if I'd taken the job. I was doing public service announcements for an organization I volunteered for and was eventually interviewed for said organization. Thus the job offer.
It was just a local, small town radio station but I would have done the morning news, color commentary, etc. Kind of like Robin on the Howard Stern show but on a much, much, much smaller scale. And with farm reports instead of strippers.
At the time, I was still young in the school administrator job and loving it. So turning it down at the time wasn't a huge issue. Also, it was so early in the morning to start and I knew I couldn't do it. 4:30 in the morning is just inhumane. The bow on the decision was a requirement for "live remotes" which meant I would be at openings of stores, restaurants, gas stations, etc. and working weekends. No thanks.
But it was So Much Fun being behind the mic & on the radio. That I could so get into.
Talking to Rosie on her test show made me remember that job like it happened yesterday.
Someday. Maybe.
Oh, and the other job? I'm kind of doing it, just not the way I want to: writer. So, I guess I only have one Dream Job if we go by the strict definition.
10 November 2009
09 November 2009
Four Years
November 9 2005
When I started this blog thing, we had been in our new house about three months. I was unhappy with the school job, and 2005 had beaten the hell out of us in every way possible.
Kevin was asleep in his chair, exhausted from moving, landscaping, and carpentry plus his regular job. I had just written BFF K an email and my head was still full.
On a whim, I searched for how-to-blog ideas.
And so it started.
"Just a Bunch of Silliness, Really" is a line from Finding Neverland with Johnny Depp. It wasn't the first title of the blog, and you know I can't remember the original title now.
What started as a whim has become a habit, a lifeline, and a relationship. It's given me more than I ever anticipated or even understand.
How did you start your blog? How did you choose the name?
When I started this blog thing, we had been in our new house about three months. I was unhappy with the school job, and 2005 had beaten the hell out of us in every way possible.
Kevin was asleep in his chair, exhausted from moving, landscaping, and carpentry plus his regular job. I had just written BFF K an email and my head was still full.
On a whim, I searched for how-to-blog ideas.
And so it started.
"Just a Bunch of Silliness, Really" is a line from Finding Neverland with Johnny Depp. It wasn't the first title of the blog, and you know I can't remember the original title now.
What started as a whim has become a habit, a lifeline, and a relationship. It's given me more than I ever anticipated or even understand.
How did you start your blog? How did you choose the name?
08 November 2009
EPIC FAIL
No, really, EPIC.
So, my BFF's birthday was, holy crap, almost two moths ago. While I remembered to send a card & email, I've failed miserably on sending her a present.
I know, I know, I know! I SUCK.
So my penance is admitting it publicly. And letting her know that it's because I suck and only because I suck is the reason I missed sending a present.
Dear BFF K,
I publicly apologize for forgetting to follow through on your birthday present. I Suck.
I suck so badly that the light from Suck World can't reach me.
Keep your eye on the mailbox over the next week or so. This will hopefully redeem me in your eyes.
Meanwhile: MUAH!
So, my BFF's birthday was, holy crap, almost two moths ago. While I remembered to send a card & email, I've failed miserably on sending her a present.
I know, I know, I know! I SUCK.
So my penance is admitting it publicly. And letting her know that it's because I suck and only because I suck is the reason I missed sending a present.
Dear BFF K,
I publicly apologize for forgetting to follow through on your birthday present. I Suck.
I suck so badly that the light from Suck World can't reach me.
Keep your eye on the mailbox over the next week or so. This will hopefully redeem me in your eyes.
Meanwhile: MUAH!
07 November 2009
One Down, One to Go
WASHINGTON DC- Triumphant Democrats passed landmark health care legislation in the House late Saturday night, spurred by a summons from President Barack Obama to "answer the call of history" and expand coverage to millions who lack it.
"...that opportunities like this come around maybe once in a generation.... This is their moment, this is our moment, to live up to the trust that the American people have placed in us..." "I urge members of Congress to rise to this moment. Answer the call of history, and vote yes for health insurance reform for America," ~ President Barack Obama
"...that opportunities like this come around maybe once in a generation.... This is their moment, this is our moment, to live up to the trust that the American people have placed in us..." "I urge members of Congress to rise to this moment. Answer the call of history, and vote yes for health insurance reform for America," ~ President Barack Obama
"It provides coverage for 96 percent of Americans. It offers everyone, regardless of health or income, the peace of mind that comes from knowing they will have access to affordable health care when they need it," said Rep. John Dingell, the 83-year-old Michigan lawmaker who has introduced national health insurance in every Congress since succeeding his father in 1955.
Now it's time for the Senate to step up & do the right thing. Call or email your senator Monday.
Yes. We. Can.
06 November 2009
George is Dead
If you watch Grey's Anatomy, you understand the title reference...if not, I'll explain later.
It's been three months since my dad passed away. Life as I know it has returned to normal. It's a relief not to have my cell phone in my possession 100% of the time, or to have constant pressure to call or visit, or the constant dread of the unknown. Family gatherings will hopefully not be tension filled. Everyone can finally just chill.
It's odd when the person who has passed is someone in which you have a difficult relationship. The rules don't necessarily apply in this case. In a terrible-ish way, it’s such a relief. It as if someone is just slowly letting the pressure out of your life and you can finally breathe. It also resolves so many issues: what to do when the loved one is old/sick, how to deal with visits & calls, guilt over not being there for X, Y or Z, the disconnected relationships, the unresolved issues.
So, in a zippy little twist, Swistle's mother-in-law dies. Suddenly I have a buddy in the "Isn't this Weird?" Club.
Grief is different for every person. Every person has to experience it to understand because you just can't predict how you'll handle it. I think there’s been such a focus on grieving and feeling your feelings that we’re programmed to think we should be feeling a, then b, then c.
But I think it’s such an individual thing and I think until you’re In It, you can’t guess or plan how you’re going to feel.
Oh, that’s right. The George is Dead reference. This season's first episode of Greys is where George actually died. One of the last scenes of the episode shows Cristina lying down at the end of a long day and weeks after Georges death. Suddenly the realization dawns on her and she turns, saying incredulously: “George is dead.”
Yeah. That’s how it feels.
So here’s to the dear Swistle: *Quaff*
05 November 2009
NoNaNoWriMo
While catching up with an old friend, he encouraged me to stay in touch regularly. "Because writers write." Thanks Paul.
The statement was equally encouraging and discouraging, as I haven't been writing as much as I'd like.
Why not, you ask?
Fall/Winter is here so Kevin is in the house much more than usual, which translates to the laptop being in use.
I still have my office but the furry teenager, that poses as our dog, seriously resents me being in her room. And it begs my favorite question "What're doing?" from Kevin. I usually reply "Baking a cake."
I'm feel like I'm in limbo until we go to Vegas. I'm having difficulty concentrating on much else once I get home. For instance, "I have to remember to stop the mail" or "I have to find the nearest grocery store to the hotel." And obsessing about the packing thing. Seriously, I should just start packing now and get it over with. But then I would be wearing clothing that the fashion police will cite me for wearing with sneakers. And I'm pretty sure I can't fit into my wedding dress anymore.
Not to mention the doggone shower adventure. Ugh. It looks like it will be about $400 to buy a new unit plus having the bathroom torn up for a weekend. Not bad in the grand scope of things, I realize but still a little traumatizing.
Tonight adds high wind gusts and pouring down rain. The lights have flickered so you'll know what happened if the blog ends like th
hahahahah. I make myself laugh if nothing else.
I was going to try NaNoWriMo this month. That's how Sunday Fiction first began but it's just not going to happen. Especially since it''s already the fifth of November now. And really, who am I kidding? I leave for a week in two weeks then the holiday. Unrealistic expectations much?
Also, I have lost THREE CHAPTERS of Sunday fiction. I know! I'm SO Frustrated. It's very much not like me so that ups the whole frustration factor to, like, a gabillion. I know it happens eventually to every writer but it doesn't make me any happier.
You may have noticed that I took the Sunday Fiction tab off the blog. When I re-write the lost chapters and get some more finished, I will return it to it's place of honor.
Three chapters...jeez....just when the main character discovered she was a vampire.
Ha ha. Kidding again.
The statement was equally encouraging and discouraging, as I haven't been writing as much as I'd like.
Why not, you ask?
Fall/Winter is here so Kevin is in the house much more than usual, which translates to the laptop being in use.
I still have my office but the furry teenager, that poses as our dog, seriously resents me being in her room. And it begs my favorite question "What're doing?" from Kevin. I usually reply "Baking a cake."
I'm feel like I'm in limbo until we go to Vegas. I'm having difficulty concentrating on much else once I get home. For instance, "I have to remember to stop the mail" or "I have to find the nearest grocery store to the hotel." And obsessing about the packing thing. Seriously, I should just start packing now and get it over with. But then I would be wearing clothing that the fashion police will cite me for wearing with sneakers. And I'm pretty sure I can't fit into my wedding dress anymore.
Not to mention the doggone shower adventure. Ugh. It looks like it will be about $400 to buy a new unit plus having the bathroom torn up for a weekend. Not bad in the grand scope of things, I realize but still a little traumatizing.
Tonight adds high wind gusts and pouring down rain. The lights have flickered so you'll know what happened if the blog ends like th
hahahahah. I make myself laugh if nothing else.
I was going to try NaNoWriMo this month. That's how Sunday Fiction first began but it's just not going to happen. Especially since it''s already the fifth of November now. And really, who am I kidding? I leave for a week in two weeks then the holiday. Unrealistic expectations much?
Also, I have lost THREE CHAPTERS of Sunday fiction. I know! I'm SO Frustrated. It's very much not like me so that ups the whole frustration factor to, like, a gabillion. I know it happens eventually to every writer but it doesn't make me any happier.
You may have noticed that I took the Sunday Fiction tab off the blog. When I re-write the lost chapters and get some more finished, I will return it to it's place of honor.
Three chapters...jeez....just when the main character discovered she was a vampire.
Ha ha. Kidding again.
04 November 2009
These are a few of my favorite things...
So, I got nothing today but I'm posting every day so here you go.
This photograph is taken by a friend, whom I've never met. He's Paul Grant and he's a track photographer at Mission Raceway. He is originally from Britain, spent time in the states, and now lives in British Columbia.
I have talked to him via email & internet. We're sure we've seen each other, if not spoken, at the racetrack. My friend Mig said that I know who he is, in an incredulous tone that I sometimes hear in my life. I think it's a little funny that we don't know each other yet we're a fan of each others photography. Mine more than his, of course.
This was taken at Mission Raceway during sunset (duh, firegirl) and the home of the BEST doughnut holes I have ever eaten. So three of my favorite things, plus coffee. And cars. Whatever with the counting thing, I just love this picture.
03 November 2009
Cracked or Broken
So, our fiberglass shower floor cracked. No, we weren't in there together, you silly people. It's a shower stall that when we were designing the bathroom, they referred to it as a "coffin shower". Probably not the best marketing tool ever. So two people in the shower is not going to happen.
The floor cracked, it's about a four inch crack. Upon further inspection, there was a smaller crack next to the drain. Nice. Perfect.
Kevin said that he thought he could fix it himself. He has limited experience with fiberglass, however he is super-diligent about keeping the house in good condition. "I'll send Dad over to take a look at it." he says.
"Um, does he have to right this very second?" I ask.
"Why?" he asked.
OF COURSE the shower needed to be scrubbed. Usually I wash it every other weekend but I was lazy and had skipped it. My pride wouldn't allow me to say "Sure, have your dad check it out."
So, bless him, Kevin told his dad that they would look at it over the weekend, giving me a chance to scrub it clean. Unfortunately, it would be cleaner if I could get into the doggone thing and really scrub it but I have to choose my battles.
Wow, I'm really off topic here.
WIKI-HOW explained how to fix the cracks in what I perceived as a mocking tone. "It's so EASY, just follow the steps." Fortunately, I don't believe everything I read on the internet.
It turned into the chicken or the egg debate. Why did it crack? If it was just regular wear & tear or an accident such as dropping something then the crack can be repaired. If it cracked due to deterioration or lack of support, the it has to be done professionally. If the floor needs repaired, then the whole shower piece has to come out and if you take the whole thing out then you might as well replace it versus repairing it. UGH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
We decided to make sure it was a good idea to check into having it professionally repaired before dis-assembling the shower stall and doing it ourselves. Trying to find someone to fix the fiberglass is a challenge. What is it with people not returning phone calls?
Finally, we spoke to a contractor who is located an hour away. Their bid was $200 to look at it and possibly repair it. But most likely, it was going to be closer to $800. Yeah. No. I'd rather just use the common folk bathroom forever.
Kevin phoned someone else then phoned someone else. Three days later we finally got a return phone call. "Sure, I can. How about Tuesday?"
"How much, do you think?" Kevin asked.
"Oh, I'm between jobs now so it will be....*dramatic pause*...$200."
Not great, right before a trip, but not unattainable.
This morning I scrubbed the bathroom, removed the rugs, and made sure the house was spiffy in happy anticipation of his arrival.
I went to work & promptly forgot about the shower. About an hour later, Kevin phoned. "Yeah, he can't do it."
Ah sh*t.
The whole thing needs replacing. We're looking at $800 - $1,000 if we have the contractor do it.
Back to square one. We have to find the exact same shower stall to replace it so we're not stuck with major renovations in a four-year-old house. Warranty, you ask? Yeah, missed it by about six months.
Guess we're not using the master bath for awhile. Could be worse, it could be the old house that had only one bathroom. But it's still a bummer.
The floor cracked, it's about a four inch crack. Upon further inspection, there was a smaller crack next to the drain. Nice. Perfect.
Kevin said that he thought he could fix it himself. He has limited experience with fiberglass, however he is super-diligent about keeping the house in good condition. "I'll send Dad over to take a look at it." he says.
"Um, does he have to right this very second?" I ask.
"Why?" he asked.
OF COURSE the shower needed to be scrubbed. Usually I wash it every other weekend but I was lazy and had skipped it. My pride wouldn't allow me to say "Sure, have your dad check it out."
So, bless him, Kevin told his dad that they would look at it over the weekend, giving me a chance to scrub it clean. Unfortunately, it would be cleaner if I could get into the doggone thing and really scrub it but I have to choose my battles.
Wow, I'm really off topic here.
WIKI-HOW explained how to fix the cracks in what I perceived as a mocking tone. "It's so EASY, just follow the steps." Fortunately, I don't believe everything I read on the internet.
It turned into the chicken or the egg debate. Why did it crack? If it was just regular wear & tear or an accident such as dropping something then the crack can be repaired. If it cracked due to deterioration or lack of support, the it has to be done professionally. If the floor needs repaired, then the whole shower piece has to come out and if you take the whole thing out then you might as well replace it versus repairing it. UGH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
We decided to make sure it was a good idea to check into having it professionally repaired before dis-assembling the shower stall and doing it ourselves. Trying to find someone to fix the fiberglass is a challenge. What is it with people not returning phone calls?
Finally, we spoke to a contractor who is located an hour away. Their bid was $200 to look at it and possibly repair it. But most likely, it was going to be closer to $800. Yeah. No. I'd rather just use the common folk bathroom forever.
Kevin phoned someone else then phoned someone else. Three days later we finally got a return phone call. "Sure, I can. How about Tuesday?"
"How much, do you think?" Kevin asked.
"Oh, I'm between jobs now so it will be....*dramatic pause*...$200."
Not great, right before a trip, but not unattainable.
This morning I scrubbed the bathroom, removed the rugs, and made sure the house was spiffy in happy anticipation of his arrival.
I went to work & promptly forgot about the shower. About an hour later, Kevin phoned. "Yeah, he can't do it."
Ah sh*t.
The whole thing needs replacing. We're looking at $800 - $1,000 if we have the contractor do it.
Back to square one. We have to find the exact same shower stall to replace it so we're not stuck with major renovations in a four-year-old house. Warranty, you ask? Yeah, missed it by about six months.
Guess we're not using the master bath for awhile. Could be worse, it could be the old house that had only one bathroom. But it's still a bummer.
02 November 2009
Short and Fickle
Fall in Washington State is short & fickle, kind of like me. One month ago it was sunny & beautiful, a late summer-ish day. Today, I drove home in the dark & rain. I can usually walk to the mailbox every night after work but not so much now. Three days ago I did and was caught in a gnarly downpour.
Fall visits for only a moment here. Just when we notice how beautiful fall can be, here comes the wind and rain.We had a windstorm a few days ago so any of the beautiful fall colors you see in these photographs is pretty much gone now.
However, I shouldn't complain much. My friends in Dawson Creek, Canada have had snow for about one month now.
01 November 2009
17 Days
We leave for Vegas in 17 days. So of course, insomnia has kicked in. Lovely.
Last night, I was fixated on packing. Yes, I know, it's SEVENTEEN days. I have time.
Here's the problem:
Our suitcases actually leave three days earlier than our flight. My father-in-law & nephew are taking my brother-in-law's racecar down to Vegas so we're sending out suitcases ahead of time to avoid checking luggage.
Now, do the math with me and point out any errors I may be making:
I need five and one half days of clothing in Vegas: Wednesday we travel - arriving in Vegas at 9 am, we're in Vegas Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday and leave mid-day Monday.
Our luggage leaves Monday morning ahead of us and returns Wednesday, two days after us.
I have three pairs of jeans that fit because I'm still shrinking. That leaves a few pairs of cords which I'm thinking is going to be a poor choice for Vegas. (:-D Black slacks, ditto. I've already decided that Wednesday & Monday (travel days) I'm going to wear khaki dockers. I guess I'll have to buy at least one more pair of Levi's. Because spending money before a vacation & the holidays = fun. (I couldn't plan ahead because I've lost two sizes)
And I need new sneakers. There is so much walking at the track, let alone in Vegas that new shoes are a requirement. (and what more clearly says "Hello, I'm a tourist! than new sneakers?)
And I need new socks. I need these just without traveling. And underwear...
Then let's think about cosmetics and toiletries. I have to double-up everything. Makeup, hair products, curling iron, etc, etc. Hello Target, don't let me down.
Then we have Kevin. He already has new sneakers but I think he needs one more pair of Levi's too. (the planning ahead thing applies here though) Luckily, he has eleventy hundred t-shirts so that's not a problem. Socks & underwear = yes, of course. I guess Target will remind me of what he also needs.
If we had credit cards, I would so find the nearest Target in Vegas & just buy all new stuff. But then this is a good example as to why we don't have credit cards.
Last night, I was fixated on packing. Yes, I know, it's SEVENTEEN days. I have time.
Here's the problem:
Our suitcases actually leave three days earlier than our flight. My father-in-law & nephew are taking my brother-in-law's racecar down to Vegas so we're sending out suitcases ahead of time to avoid checking luggage.
Now, do the math with me and point out any errors I may be making:
I need five and one half days of clothing in Vegas: Wednesday we travel - arriving in Vegas at 9 am, we're in Vegas Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday and leave mid-day Monday.
Our luggage leaves Monday morning ahead of us and returns Wednesday, two days after us.
I have three pairs of jeans that fit because I'm still shrinking. That leaves a few pairs of cords which I'm thinking is going to be a poor choice for Vegas. (:-D Black slacks, ditto. I've already decided that Wednesday & Monday (travel days) I'm going to wear khaki dockers. I guess I'll have to buy at least one more pair of Levi's. Because spending money before a vacation & the holidays = fun. (I couldn't plan ahead because I've lost two sizes)
And I need new sneakers. There is so much walking at the track, let alone in Vegas that new shoes are a requirement. (and what more clearly says "Hello, I'm a tourist! than new sneakers?)
And I need new socks. I need these just without traveling. And underwear...
Then let's think about cosmetics and toiletries. I have to double-up everything. Makeup, hair products, curling iron, etc, etc. Hello Target, don't let me down.
Then we have Kevin. He already has new sneakers but I think he needs one more pair of Levi's too. (the planning ahead thing applies here though) Luckily, he has eleventy hundred t-shirts so that's not a problem. Socks & underwear = yes, of course. I guess Target will remind me of what he also needs.
If we had credit cards, I would so find the nearest Target in Vegas & just buy all new stuff. But then this is a good example as to why we don't have credit cards.
31 October 2009
Happy Halloween Meme
Stolen from Bea who stole it from ....Which urban legend scared you as a kid?
Alligators in the sewers
Which horror movie had the best premise?
Scream, probably.
What is the most disappointing "treat" you've ever received on Halloween?
Apples. there was a lady when I was child that gave them out. I didn't like it but felt bad if we skipped her house.
What's the best non-candy treat to receive?
Anything non-candy is just not cool.
Did a monster live in your closet when you were a kid?
I don't remember, I don't think so.
Which supernatural creature sent chills up your spine when you were ten and still does?
Poltergeist.
What supernatural creature makes you yawn?
Not sure...the Stay Puft man on Ghostbusters?
What's your favorite Halloween decoration?
see pics above & below!
(these are bobble-heads!)If you could be anywhere on Halloween Night, where would you be?
At a house in town where lots of kids stop by. We live so far out, no one ever stops by.
What's the scariest book you've read so far this year?
I just started The Blood Brothers series by Nora Roberts and it's freaking me out a little.
Haunted Houses or Haunted Hayrides?
Haunted Houses
Which Steven King novel would you least want to find yourself trapped in?
Cujo. Believe it or not, I'm a little scared of big dogs.
Which is creepiest? Evil dolls, evil kids or evil pets?
Evil Dolls...Chuckie! Harlequin dolls. Need I say more?
Happy Halloween Everyone!
28 October 2009
What is in a Name
I mostly use pseudonyms, nicknames, or initials on the blog. The only person I don't use one for is my ex-husband, Michael. Because I won't lie for that @#@#&(*%# ever.
Kevin is my husbands middle name. I love his first name. It suits him perfectly. It's fun to say, it's fun to write. It's just perfect for him. It's not common but not unusual. (this will be funny to only those who know him but the literal meaning of his name is appropriate as well)
It was to my surprise the other day when he mentioned that he's has wished he had a different name. I know he never uses his legal name because he hates it. He goes by a derivative of his legal name and was teased when he was younger. At one time, he asked to be called Kevin but it just never stuck.
I rarely slip when I write his name here. In fact, I've found myself writing "Kev" so I'm using a nickname for a pseudonym now. Well done me.
My nephew is a Fourth. He's always had the baby version of his name. For example: Timothy John IV, or Tim, or Timmy. Timmy being the baby version.
He's 25 years old now. He's trying to rebuild his life after making some serious poor choices. He's asked to be known by the grownup version of his name. After knowing him for nineteen years, it's been an effort to remember. But I completely understand his reasoning. He's ready to be his own person.
I, too, am not wild about my name. (I saw that eyeroll, D, stop it) I would never go to the lengths to change it but I certainly don't enjoy it. To boot, people tend to forget it easily.
Perhaps it's most everyone that doesn't like their name?
Kevin is my husbands middle name. I love his first name. It suits him perfectly. It's fun to say, it's fun to write. It's just perfect for him. It's not common but not unusual. (this will be funny to only those who know him but the literal meaning of his name is appropriate as well)
It was to my surprise the other day when he mentioned that he's has wished he had a different name. I know he never uses his legal name because he hates it. He goes by a derivative of his legal name and was teased when he was younger. At one time, he asked to be called Kevin but it just never stuck.
I rarely slip when I write his name here. In fact, I've found myself writing "Kev" so I'm using a nickname for a pseudonym now. Well done me.
My nephew is a Fourth. He's always had the baby version of his name. For example: Timothy John IV, or Tim, or Timmy. Timmy being the baby version.
He's 25 years old now. He's trying to rebuild his life after making some serious poor choices. He's asked to be known by the grownup version of his name. After knowing him for nineteen years, it's been an effort to remember. But I completely understand his reasoning. He's ready to be his own person.
I, too, am not wild about my name. (I saw that eyeroll, D, stop it) I would never go to the lengths to change it but I certainly don't enjoy it. To boot, people tend to forget it easily.
Perhaps it's most everyone that doesn't like their name?
27 October 2009
Louder the Better
According to this post, I have Nerd Attention Deficit Disorder...
I'm at work and there is currently:
The radio playing
A co-worker chatting
Two tabs open on Firefox
My in-box open & correspondence going back & forth
A database open
Checks & receipts spread about on my desk.
Did I mention construction going on outside my window?
If I were home, the television would be on. If I'm working in my office, the stereo would be on also. Not to mention being able to hear Kevin singing and/or talking. (sometimes it's the same thing) And the dogs "guarding" the neighborhood.
I've found that the busier and louder it is, the happier my brain is. Give me a calm environment and it's nappy nap nigh night time. Or I will notice every little audible sound which drives me slowly to madness and I can't concentrate on anything.
No wonder I'm so happy at the racetrack!
I'm at work and there is currently:
The radio playing
A co-worker chatting
Two tabs open on Firefox
My in-box open & correspondence going back & forth
A database open
Checks & receipts spread about on my desk.
Did I mention construction going on outside my window?
If I were home, the television would be on. If I'm working in my office, the stereo would be on also. Not to mention being able to hear Kevin singing and/or talking. (sometimes it's the same thing) And the dogs "guarding" the neighborhood.
I've found that the busier and louder it is, the happier my brain is. Give me a calm environment and it's nappy nap nigh night time. Or I will notice every little audible sound which drives me slowly to madness and I can't concentrate on anything.
No wonder I'm so happy at the racetrack!
26 October 2009
Commentary
I love reading comments on my and friends blogs. I, however, suck at commenting. It's not that I don't have anything to say. If you ever met me in reals, I usually always have something to say.
It's usually sarcastic or random useless trivia but it's something.
I am sure that I overthink the process. I am a smart ass with a dry sense of humor. That can be difficult to convey when commenting. I rely on (:-D a lot.
Also, the way my brain is wired I'm like the chick in American Pie: "That reminds me, this one time in Band camp..." Because I have stories. Again, spend any time with me: I have stories. Like this one time...never mind. So I worry about hijacking comments.
Many of my friends blogs have parenting stories. Because I'm not a parent, I feel awkward commenting. However, all my years of working with children has given me some crazy knowledge. Need homeopathic lice remedies? I'm your girl. Need an opinion on family beds or crying it out? Sure! But bottom-line, I'm not a parent. It's like an unmarried marriage counselor in my perspective.
Sometimes I'll begin to comment and then worry about it sounding arrogant; filled with "I" statements. It's not all about me, as fun as that would be. So I hit back-space a lot.
Or being on the West coast, some of the blogs have a gabillion comments by the time I've read it. then I kick into Eeyore mode - it doesn't really matter anymore.
So. Yeah. Over-thinking it. I need to get over myself, seriously.
I will persevere though. I resolve to begin commenting. If it sounds awkward, just roll with me. If I ramble or am random, tell me to shush. If you're not sure what I mean: assume it's sarcasm.
It's usually sarcastic or random useless trivia but it's something.
I am sure that I overthink the process. I am a smart ass with a dry sense of humor. That can be difficult to convey when commenting. I rely on (:-D a lot.
Also, the way my brain is wired I'm like the chick in American Pie: "That reminds me, this one time in Band camp..." Because I have stories. Again, spend any time with me: I have stories. Like this one time...never mind. So I worry about hijacking comments.
Many of my friends blogs have parenting stories. Because I'm not a parent, I feel awkward commenting. However, all my years of working with children has given me some crazy knowledge. Need homeopathic lice remedies? I'm your girl. Need an opinion on family beds or crying it out? Sure! But bottom-line, I'm not a parent. It's like an unmarried marriage counselor in my perspective.
Sometimes I'll begin to comment and then worry about it sounding arrogant; filled with "I" statements. It's not all about me, as fun as that would be. So I hit back-space a lot.
Or being on the West coast, some of the blogs have a gabillion comments by the time I've read it. then I kick into Eeyore mode - it doesn't really matter anymore.
So. Yeah. Over-thinking it. I need to get over myself, seriously.
I will persevere though. I resolve to begin commenting. If it sounds awkward, just roll with me. If I ramble or am random, tell me to shush. If you're not sure what I mean: assume it's sarcasm.
25 October 2009
Next Stop: Negative Town
I can rationalize that my mom is 72 years old and a widow. I can understand that her life hasn't been easy. These rationalizations, however, are little help when I'm stuck in the car with her.
Suddenly I am fifteen years old and just wanting to be anywhere but here.
I've had lots of Mom time recently. We took her out to dinner with Kevin's family the other night then I picked her up for my niece's first high school choir concert and then I took her to an appointment which required 45 minutes in the car. In one week.
Let me digress one minute: my mom is a very nice person. You just have to have thick skin because she doesn't mince words. There is rarely a doubt as to how she's feeling.
Here's the best example from the doctor appointment adventure:
We were on our way home and my patience was waning. I am trying to think of anything to talk about.
"Oh, there's the casino that James girlfriend works at. We've eaten there. It's not bad."
Should be safe, yes? Mentioned her nephew-in-law, restaurant, time spent with Kevin.
"Oh, Dad and I went there before he went downhill."
ah f&ck.
"I found all kinds of gambling membership cards for the casinos after he died. He liked to gamble."
*awesome*
"One time...this was when I was pregnant with your brother ((fifty years ago - I'm not kidding)) your dad bought into a football pool and put both of our names on it. Turns out I won. He gave me $40. So I bought a winter coat. Do you think he ever let it go? No, he even told our friends "I never saw any of that money." Finally, I won money at pulltabs and gave it to him and said "We're even."
e.x.h.a.u.s.t.i.n.g.
"But we had good times too, he could be fun..."
Suddenly I am fifteen years old and just wanting to be anywhere but here.
I've had lots of Mom time recently. We took her out to dinner with Kevin's family the other night then I picked her up for my niece's first high school choir concert and then I took her to an appointment which required 45 minutes in the car. In one week.
Let me digress one minute: my mom is a very nice person. You just have to have thick skin because she doesn't mince words. There is rarely a doubt as to how she's feeling.
Here's the best example from the doctor appointment adventure:
We were on our way home and my patience was waning. I am trying to think of anything to talk about.
"Oh, there's the casino that James girlfriend works at. We've eaten there. It's not bad."
Should be safe, yes? Mentioned her nephew-in-law, restaurant, time spent with Kevin.
"Oh, Dad and I went there before he went downhill."
ah f&ck.
"I found all kinds of gambling membership cards for the casinos after he died. He liked to gamble."
*awesome*
"One time...this was when I was pregnant with your brother ((fifty years ago - I'm not kidding)) your dad bought into a football pool and put both of our names on it. Turns out I won. He gave me $40. So I bought a winter coat. Do you think he ever let it go? No, he even told our friends "I never saw any of that money." Finally, I won money at pulltabs and gave it to him and said "We're even."
e.x.h.a.u.s.t.i.n.g.
"But we had good times too, he could be fun..."
24 October 2009
The Ex-Wife Chronicles
After three days of discussing what to do about Kevin's ex-wife's friend request on Facebook, I finally messaged her via her request and said: "Thanks for the request but I don't think it's a good idea."
Her response:
"ok it is up to you, but i meant nothing by the request and i had no altreary motives, but if it makes you uncomfortable that is ok. take care.."
I'll give you all a minute to let that sink in...
Kevin said "It's nice that she gave you permission..."
BFF D and my S-i-l has had a running joke about "altreary".
Kevin mentioned last night that he was surprised that he hasn't received a follow-up message personally or something along those lines. I think it could still happen. I can't imagine her letting it pass without further comment. Something along the lines of "I didn't mean to offend her..."
Like I mentioned before, we've decided that we're not going to pursue this further. There will be no emailing of pictures or sending her the leftovers of their marriage. Clearly nothing good can come from it.
We went from allowing her to friend Kevin on FB, to allowing her to call Kevin (once) to allow for closure for Kevin, to posting pictures of Kevin's old cars for his FRIENDS to see and she making it about her, to a request for old pictures and ending with a friend request for me.
See where I'm going with this? Each item individually is little but each is a little step further toward crazy stalker behavior. Too boot, it is inconceivable that she would think that it would be appropriate to ask in the first place. So, what's stopping her from going further?
Kevin said that one more contact and he's pulling the plug on the whole damn thing. He gave her a chance to make things right but so far has created more melodrama than closure.
But it sure has given all of us something to talk about!
Her response:
"ok it is up to you, but i meant nothing by the request and i had no altreary motives, but if it makes you uncomfortable that is ok. take care.."
I'll give you all a minute to let that sink in...
Kevin said "It's nice that she gave you permission..."
BFF D and my S-i-l has had a running joke about "altreary".
Kevin mentioned last night that he was surprised that he hasn't received a follow-up message personally or something along those lines. I think it could still happen. I can't imagine her letting it pass without further comment. Something along the lines of "I didn't mean to offend her..."
Like I mentioned before, we've decided that we're not going to pursue this further. There will be no emailing of pictures or sending her the leftovers of their marriage. Clearly nothing good can come from it.
We went from allowing her to friend Kevin on FB, to allowing her to call Kevin (once) to allow for closure for Kevin, to posting pictures of Kevin's old cars for his FRIENDS to see and she making it about her, to a request for old pictures and ending with a friend request for me.
See where I'm going with this? Each item individually is little but each is a little step further toward crazy stalker behavior. Too boot, it is inconceivable that she would think that it would be appropriate to ask in the first place. So, what's stopping her from going further?
Kevin said that one more contact and he's pulling the plug on the whole damn thing. He gave her a chance to make things right but so far has created more melodrama than closure.
But it sure has given all of us something to talk about!
23 October 2009
My Wife Lost Her Shirt
Every night Kevin gets ready for bed before me. Bedtime is where OCD gets the best of me and Kevin, bless his heart, just lets me be. So often, he's in bed a good ten minutes before I am.
I always put my t-shirt on my side of the bed so that I don't wake him when I try to get it out of the drawer of the bureau that's probably older than I am.
The other night my t-shirt wasn't there. I accused Kevin of stealing it, not realizing he was asleep. He said he didn't but I didn't believe him. Taking advantage of the situation, I went to bed without it and all that it implies.
Later, I told Kevin that he was falsely accused. My bad.
We overslept the next morning and Kevin was late to work. He told Yo, his buddy at work
"I'm late because my wife lost her shirt."
I always put my t-shirt on my side of the bed so that I don't wake him when I try to get it out of the drawer of the bureau that's probably older than I am.
The other night my t-shirt wasn't there. I accused Kevin of stealing it, not realizing he was asleep. He said he didn't but I didn't believe him. Taking advantage of the situation, I went to bed without it and all that it implies.
Later, I told Kevin that he was falsely accused. My bad.
We overslept the next morning and Kevin was late to work. He told Yo, his buddy at work
"I'm late because my wife lost her shirt."
20 October 2009
It's Me
It's me that he reaches for in his sleep. It's me that held his hand when he was sick. It's me that makes sure he has new Levis and sneakers. It's me that helped his parents downsize & move. It's me that makes sure he has grapes in his lunch every single day.
It was you that cheated, stole, and disappeared.
It was me that helped glue together the pieces of everything you destroyed. It's me who stays when he's sick. It's me that cheers for him when he does well. It's me that he calls when he's having a bad day. It's me that works to help his dreams become reality.
It was you that bailed when it got difficult and not fun.
It was me that built a home out of what you left behind. It was me that boxed up your stuff. It was me that put back together the man you tore apart. It was me that had to ride it out when you were the one he was really upset with. It was me that taught him that you loved him the only way you knew how.
It was me. Not you.
It's me that gets the joy of being his wife. It's me that gets flowers every birthday & anniversary. It's me that he takes on dates after nineteen years. It's me that he wakes up every morning with a backrub. It's me that he looks for in a crowd. It's me that he sings to.
It's me that wears his ring and carries his name. Not you.
It was you that cheated, stole, and disappeared.
It was me that helped glue together the pieces of everything you destroyed. It's me who stays when he's sick. It's me that cheers for him when he does well. It's me that he calls when he's having a bad day. It's me that works to help his dreams become reality.
It was you that bailed when it got difficult and not fun.
It was me that built a home out of what you left behind. It was me that boxed up your stuff. It was me that put back together the man you tore apart. It was me that had to ride it out when you were the one he was really upset with. It was me that taught him that you loved him the only way you knew how.
It was me. Not you.
It's me that gets the joy of being his wife. It's me that gets flowers every birthday & anniversary. It's me that he takes on dates after nineteen years. It's me that he wakes up every morning with a backrub. It's me that he looks for in a crowd. It's me that he sings to.
It's me that wears his ring and carries his name. Not you.
Okay, let's take a poll
This morning the great & wonderful Facebook gave me the following quandary:
Kevin's ex-wife has friended me on Facebook.
Oh, yes. Yes, she did.
My initial response was "You. Have. Got. To. Be. KIDDING. Me" followed by maniacal laughter.
BFF K responded with "Ahahahahahahahahhaha" as did BFF D.
Kevin said "What does she WANT?" with a chorus of "Oh My God" thrown in for good measure.
Kevin's mom wonders what she's up to. While she loved his ex-wife, she knows that she's not a good person. (for those of you just joining us: she cheated on Kevin AND screwed him over financially - leaving him thousands of dollars in debt)
I really don't care. I agree with BFF K, that she wants access to more pictures. This makes it tempting for me to approve her request. "Sure, look at how HAPPY we are and how much you F*&ked up. Enjoy!"
But I am a little suspicious.
Then, I looked at it another way...what if it were Michael that requested. Well, that doesn't work because there is a Permanent Restraining Order. But if there wasn't, what would I do? The answer would be Hell.to.the.NO. You walked away, buster. You chose not to have access to my life. Sucks to be YOU.
But the snotty teenager in me wants her to see how great Kevin's life is.
Polls are open, what do you think we should do? Friend or Not to Friend. That is the question.
Kevin's ex-wife has friended me on Facebook.
Oh, yes. Yes, she did.
My initial response was "You. Have. Got. To. Be. KIDDING. Me" followed by maniacal laughter.
BFF K responded with "Ahahahahahahahahhaha" as did BFF D.
Kevin said "What does she WANT?" with a chorus of "Oh My God" thrown in for good measure.
Kevin's mom wonders what she's up to. While she loved his ex-wife, she knows that she's not a good person. (for those of you just joining us: she cheated on Kevin AND screwed him over financially - leaving him thousands of dollars in debt)
I really don't care. I agree with BFF K, that she wants access to more pictures. This makes it tempting for me to approve her request. "Sure, look at how HAPPY we are and how much you F*&ked up. Enjoy!"
But I am a little suspicious.
Then, I looked at it another way...what if it were Michael that requested. Well, that doesn't work because there is a Permanent Restraining Order. But if there wasn't, what would I do? The answer would be Hell.to.the.NO. You walked away, buster. You chose not to have access to my life. Sucks to be YOU.
But the snotty teenager in me wants her to see how great Kevin's life is.
Polls are open, what do you think we should do? Friend or Not to Friend. That is the question.
19 October 2009
Food Fail - Kevin Edition
Kevin's been having such a tough time lately, working 6-12's, leaving in the dark & getting home in the dark, working all day in the rain, race season is over and then Dingbat's picture request. His life has been sucking.
So, I've been spoiling him big...yes, that way too but I mean by making his favorite dinners.
Unfortunately, it includes Car Crash.
Ugh, car crash. The bane of my wifely-existence.
It's essentially poor-man's Shepherds Pie. And every man's dream.
Hamburger
Tater tots
Corn
Cream of Mushroom Soup
Cheese
Baked into a gooey mass and add ketchup.
(and an angioplasty)
So, I've been spoiling him big...yes, that way too but I mean by making his favorite dinners.
Unfortunately, it includes Car Crash.
Ugh, car crash. The bane of my wifely-existence.
It's essentially poor-man's Shepherds Pie. And every man's dream.
Hamburger
Tater tots
Corn
Cream of Mushroom Soup
Cheese
Baked into a gooey mass and add ketchup.
(and an angioplasty)
18 October 2009
This Odd Request Made Possible by Facebook
I posted some pictures of Kevin's old cars for his friends to see on his facebook page. The years ranged from his first car to the car we have now. Of course, this also included cars from the time that he was previously married. A few days later we received the following:
Hi Kevin & Firegirl,
Thanks for putting up those pictures, I loved them. I don't have any old pictures because everything was stolen about 9yrs ago. Only ones I have relatives have given me. Do you by any chance have any of my Challenger? If you do please post them or send them to me. Actually any old pictures you might have of back in the day would you please send me copies? I know it is alot to ask and I know you guys are very busy, but if it is ok with firegirl and you guys get a chance I would really appreciate it. Have a great day. Dingbat
A few points:
We posted the pictures upon our Car Friends requests, not yours...you self-absorbed...never mind.
"everything was stolen about nine years ago". Translation: "I left everything behind nineTEEN years ago."
"I know it is alot to ask" (trying to ignore a grammatical error that irritates me) Um, yeah. A LOT to ask.
Dingbat is the nickname Kevin called her back-in-the-day, before being replaced by a less-affectionate name.
So...it's not like we have pictures of her hanging around. Those were banished by Kevin before I ever arrived on the scene. However, we do have a small box of pictures & momentos that I stashed away in case Kevin ever wanted them. At the time, he said something along the lines of "Don't keep those. Burn them in the yard." But I kept them without his knowledge just in case someday in the future he was feeling nostalgic.
My first response was two-fold. The first being "Really?" and the second being just the tiniest bit of sympathy. For all intents and purposes, she is now in her mid-forties and has seemingly realized just how badly she messed up her life.
This puts me in a weird place. Kevin would never, ever, ever, ever ask me to do this. In fact, there was a little bit of a meltdown that night after he read her message. He is rarely upset, very rarely has his feelings hurt. He was both that night. "She CHOSE to leave all those pictures behind because she DIDN'T WANT to be here anymore" was the main theme.
Later he relented and said to send pictures if *I* wanted to but to not go out of my way to do it. While he didn't say it outright, he doesn't want to see the pictures.
I've mulled it over the past few days and decided that I will email a handful of pictures. I will make it clear that it was ME that was doing this and that Kevin had nothing to do with the keeping of the pictures or held any interest in them. The only thing that I haven't decided is how to state "Don't ask again, for anything. Ever." without sounding like a jealous fishwife.
Hi Kevin & Firegirl,
Thanks for putting up those pictures, I loved them. I don't have any old pictures because everything was stolen about 9yrs ago. Only ones I have relatives have given me. Do you by any chance have any of my Challenger? If you do please post them or send them to me. Actually any old pictures you might have of back in the day would you please send me copies? I know it is alot to ask and I know you guys are very busy, but if it is ok with firegirl and you guys get a chance I would really appreciate it. Have a great day. Dingbat
A few points:
We posted the pictures upon our Car Friends requests, not yours...you self-absorbed...never mind.
"everything was stolen about nine years ago". Translation: "I left everything behind nineTEEN years ago."
"I know it is alot to ask" (trying to ignore a grammatical error that irritates me) Um, yeah. A LOT to ask.
Dingbat is the nickname Kevin called her back-in-the-day, before being replaced by a less-affectionate name.
So...it's not like we have pictures of her hanging around. Those were banished by Kevin before I ever arrived on the scene. However, we do have a small box of pictures & momentos that I stashed away in case Kevin ever wanted them. At the time, he said something along the lines of "Don't keep those. Burn them in the yard." But I kept them without his knowledge just in case someday in the future he was feeling nostalgic.
My first response was two-fold. The first being "Really?" and the second being just the tiniest bit of sympathy. For all intents and purposes, she is now in her mid-forties and has seemingly realized just how badly she messed up her life.
This puts me in a weird place. Kevin would never, ever, ever, ever ask me to do this. In fact, there was a little bit of a meltdown that night after he read her message. He is rarely upset, very rarely has his feelings hurt. He was both that night. "She CHOSE to leave all those pictures behind because she DIDN'T WANT to be here anymore" was the main theme.
Later he relented and said to send pictures if *I* wanted to but to not go out of my way to do it. While he didn't say it outright, he doesn't want to see the pictures.
I've mulled it over the past few days and decided that I will email a handful of pictures. I will make it clear that it was ME that was doing this and that Kevin had nothing to do with the keeping of the pictures or held any interest in them. The only thing that I haven't decided is how to state "Don't ask again, for anything. Ever." without sounding like a jealous fishwife.
17 October 2009
She has my cell phone number
I will begin this story the same way I told it to Kevin & D:
You will Never Guess who I talked to the other day...
Go ahead: guess.
No, not my dead dad. Try again.
Rosie O'Donnell.
Yes. I did. I DID!
She has a website: Rosie.com and has a "Ask Ro" section where you can post questions & comments. She answers some of them and it's pretty interesting. She also has a "Say What" section where she asks questions & you can answer in 200 characters.
It's pretty interactive, is my point. Especially for a celebrity.
Anyway, she asked about the Oprah interviews with Whitney & Mike Tyson. I posted comments and thought nothing further about it.
I use a HotMail account for this blog and facebook. I check it about every other day. I checked it on a whim Thursday and cleaned it out. I saw an email from RBlog in my spam filter. I clicked on it and it said:
Hi,
I was wondering if you would be available to talk about your experience watching Tyson on Oprah. We would like to cover the topic on tomorrow's test show (which won't be aired). Would you have time to talk to me today? If so please send me a number I can call you at.
Thanks,
Pete
KidRo Productions
Rosie.com
So, I sent my cell phone number with a great amount of skepticism. Within 20 minutes, my phone rang. Oh. My. God.
There was Pete, with voices in the background. They were in the studio right that second. He asked about my post and typed my responses. He asked where I lived and turns out he lived in Bellingham for a while. Small world. He asked if I would be available to the phone the next morning from 10-12 EST. I did the time zone math, but I don't really know why because Hell.to.the.Yes I was available.
We hung up and I did a little happy dance. But I still was pretty skeptical that anything would happen. I mean, really, what are the odds that I would get a call from Rosie O'Donnell?
The next morning after Kevin left for work (6:00 am - ugh) I took a shower & got ready for work like it was a normal day. A little after 7:00 am, my phone rang and there was my new best friend Pete.
He explained how it would work, I would be able to hear Rosie's doing the radio show, then they would tell me it was my turn then she would come onto the phone.
Now, I am usually a fairly calm individual. It takes a lot to shake me. A lot. Blowing up, rolling a truck, you know A lot. I don't mind admitting that my hands were shaking a bit.
The phone clicked and there was her voice. She was talking about the Tyson interview then sequed into a musing of doing a "What Oprah has Done to My Life" segment on future shows, and she didn't mean in a good way. Someone commented in the background negatively and Rosie said "Oprah is like Don Coreleone in the Godfather. Bad things happen to people who cross her. " I broke out laughing.
My friend Pete came back onto the line about 45 minutes later and said I was next. "And please, don't do the 'I'm such a big fan' thing." Oh no, I told him, I'm so not that chick. He laughed.
Then *click* and there she was Rosie O'Donnell. On. My. Phone.
Oh. My. Gahhhhhhhhhhh
She asked where I was from. After I answered, she said "I filmed two movies there. Is it raining?"
"Of course it is" I answered.
"It rained the entire time I was there, both times and while it's beautiful because of the rain, I could never live there."
I laughed, "We hear that a lot."
We talked about a different topic than originally discussed, the topic of Janney the 7-year-old schizophrenic that Oprah had on her show. I totally call bullshit that she's schizophrenic and that I don't believe the parents aren't above-board. She agreed. Rosie did a Google search and found that the parents have a website soliciting donations. (Ugh, horrifying.)
How fun that we totally agreed.
Then she said goodbye and we were all done.
It was a crazy-cool-weird experience that I still can't quite believe happened.
I called Kevin first. He was cracking up and telling his co-workers.
Then I called D. When she answered, I said "I know it's early and I would never call early unless it was BIG, right?"
You will Never Guess who I talked to the other day...
Go ahead: guess.
No, not my dead dad. Try again.
Rosie O'Donnell.
Yes. I did. I DID!
She has a website: Rosie.com and has a "Ask Ro" section where you can post questions & comments. She answers some of them and it's pretty interesting. She also has a "Say What" section where she asks questions & you can answer in 200 characters.
It's pretty interactive, is my point. Especially for a celebrity.
Anyway, she asked about the Oprah interviews with Whitney & Mike Tyson. I posted comments and thought nothing further about it.
I use a HotMail account for this blog and facebook. I check it about every other day. I checked it on a whim Thursday and cleaned it out. I saw an email from RBlog in my spam filter. I clicked on it and it said:
Hi,
I was wondering if you would be available to talk about your experience watching Tyson on Oprah. We would like to cover the topic on tomorrow's test show (which won't be aired). Would you have time to talk to me today? If so please send me a number I can call you at.
Thanks,
Pete
KidRo Productions
Rosie.com
So, I sent my cell phone number with a great amount of skepticism. Within 20 minutes, my phone rang. Oh. My. God.
There was Pete, with voices in the background. They were in the studio right that second. He asked about my post and typed my responses. He asked where I lived and turns out he lived in Bellingham for a while. Small world. He asked if I would be available to the phone the next morning from 10-12 EST. I did the time zone math, but I don't really know why because Hell.to.the.Yes I was available.
We hung up and I did a little happy dance. But I still was pretty skeptical that anything would happen. I mean, really, what are the odds that I would get a call from Rosie O'Donnell?
The next morning after Kevin left for work (6:00 am - ugh) I took a shower & got ready for work like it was a normal day. A little after 7:00 am, my phone rang and there was my new best friend Pete.
He explained how it would work, I would be able to hear Rosie's doing the radio show, then they would tell me it was my turn then she would come onto the phone.
Now, I am usually a fairly calm individual. It takes a lot to shake me. A lot. Blowing up, rolling a truck, you know A lot. I don't mind admitting that my hands were shaking a bit.
The phone clicked and there was her voice. She was talking about the Tyson interview then sequed into a musing of doing a "What Oprah has Done to My Life" segment on future shows, and she didn't mean in a good way. Someone commented in the background negatively and Rosie said "Oprah is like Don Coreleone in the Godfather. Bad things happen to people who cross her. " I broke out laughing.
My friend Pete came back onto the line about 45 minutes later and said I was next. "And please, don't do the 'I'm such a big fan' thing." Oh no, I told him, I'm so not that chick. He laughed.
Then *click* and there she was Rosie O'Donnell. On. My. Phone.
Oh. My. Gahhhhhhhhhhh
She asked where I was from. After I answered, she said "I filmed two movies there. Is it raining?"
"Of course it is" I answered.
"It rained the entire time I was there, both times and while it's beautiful because of the rain, I could never live there."
I laughed, "We hear that a lot."
We talked about a different topic than originally discussed, the topic of Janney the 7-year-old schizophrenic that Oprah had on her show. I totally call bullshit that she's schizophrenic and that I don't believe the parents aren't above-board. She agreed. Rosie did a Google search and found that the parents have a website soliciting donations. (Ugh, horrifying.)
How fun that we totally agreed.
Then she said goodbye and we were all done.
It was a crazy-cool-weird experience that I still can't quite believe happened.
I called Kevin first. He was cracking up and telling his co-workers.
Then I called D. When she answered, I said "I know it's early and I would never call early unless it was BIG, right?"
13 October 2009
Twenty Years Ago
For years, Labor Day weekend found a huge group of friends camping way, way, way out in the woods. I went with Mike one year as sort of a last ditch attempt at trying to be married. Little did I know that Kevin was attempting the same impossible feat at the time.
While I wasn't immediately *attracted* to Kevin, I couldn't help but notice him. Our friends refer to him as the Yeller. He's often the loudest one in the room, the heart of a party. This camping trip was no different. At first, I thought "Who the hell is this guy?" but by the end of the weekend, I liked him. No vibes or surreptitious glances. Neither of us were there yet, but I was aware of him for sure.
So it wasn't entirely unpleasant when I saw him again about six months later. We were both single and suddenly, we connected. Much to our mutual surprise.
This weekend was the 19th anniversary of our first date. Our first date was actually a car show with the car that is now our racecar. And guess where we were? At the racetrack.
Instead of Love making the world go around...Wheels make our love go around...
While I wasn't immediately *attracted* to Kevin, I couldn't help but notice him. Our friends refer to him as the Yeller. He's often the loudest one in the room, the heart of a party. This camping trip was no different. At first, I thought "Who the hell is this guy?" but by the end of the weekend, I liked him. No vibes or surreptitious glances. Neither of us were there yet, but I was aware of him for sure.
So it wasn't entirely unpleasant when I saw him again about six months later. We were both single and suddenly, we connected. Much to our mutual surprise.
This weekend was the 19th anniversary of our first date. Our first date was actually a car show with the car that is now our racecar. And guess where we were? At the racetrack.
Instead of Love making the world go around...Wheels make our love go around...
Pacific Raceway...this weekend...about to go 148 mph
D'oh
Woke up in the middle of the night and realized I didn't post yesterday. Well done Me.
I'll post tonight, fo sho.
In the meanwhile, I'm on Twitter as firegirl03 if you want to come play. I don't twitter much so don't set your expectations too high.
I'll post tonight, fo sho.
In the meanwhile, I'm on Twitter as firegirl03 if you want to come play. I don't twitter much so don't set your expectations too high.
11 October 2009
Take a Breath
If you're a long-time reader, you are aware that I support Barack Obama. I am so not Republican in any way. Not to say that I'm a Democrat either. If it were a perfect world, we would revert to George Washington's idea of Congress: no political parties.
Two things have frustrated me lately:
((Oh, this is going to be one of my rare political rants...they don't happen often. I'm not here to argue with anyone))
The Nobel Peace Prize. There was a survey on Facebook asking if it was deserved. Because my high-school friends skew Republican, the survey was not in Obamas favor. I disagree.
He won it based on two speeches and pre-election actions. NOT on what he has done since in office.
Long before he was elected President, he took the US on a Goodwill Tour after the US was vilified WORLD WIDE. Americans have been lying while traveling abroad, stating they are Canadian. Not any longer. The prize was awarded based on that and nothing else. He changed the attitude & status of Americans. After eight years of the silent treatment, he gave the world the opportunity to talk to us again.
Frustrating Thing #2:
Read this with a whine "But he's not doing anything..."
He. Has. Been. In. Office. Nine. Months.
He inherited the country at it's worst. Worst than during both World Wars, worse than perhaps even the Civil War. (based on opinion of people smarter than I) There was simply not one single thing that wasn't broken over the last eight years.
Give him a minute. It's so frustrating that Americans expect fast fixes to everything. Twice I have heard "Well, the past administration ram-rodded their agenda, why can't he?" Well, they did it ILLEGALLY and everyone was PISSED off. Just because we like the guy now doesn't make it right for him to do the same thing.
With any relationship, you can't give it a matter of months and then call it off without seeking help. The American people do have a relationship with the President. I think that has been forgotten because the past administration erased that from our consciousness.
He's available on Twitter, on Facebook, on MySpace. He has an email, a telephone number and an address. Have you been to the White House website? It's totally cool now. He wants our opinions and our help. As he has said all along, it is up to us.
Not to say that I give the President a free pass. I think he has an endgame plan. I see changes coming after the first year. If, and only if, after that things aren't changing, then I will rethink my support. But not in the first nine months. It takes a baby nine months to form and even then it's still helpless upon birth. Our country was brought down to it's base level and needs to be rebuilt. It's not going to happen quickly.
In the meanwhile. Take a Breath.
Two things have frustrated me lately:
((Oh, this is going to be one of my rare political rants...they don't happen often. I'm not here to argue with anyone))
The Nobel Peace Prize. There was a survey on Facebook asking if it was deserved. Because my high-school friends skew Republican, the survey was not in Obamas favor. I disagree.
He won it based on two speeches and pre-election actions. NOT on what he has done since in office.
From CNN: The committee said it honored Obama for his "extraordinary efforts to strengthen international diplomacy and cooperation between peoples." The Nobel committee recognized Obama's efforts at dialogue to solve complex global problems, including working toward a world free of nuclear weapons.
"Only very rarely has a person to the same extent as Obama captured the world's attention and given its people hope for a better future," the committee said.
Obama said he viewed the decision less as a recognition of his own accomplishments and more as "a call to action."
Long before he was elected President, he took the US on a Goodwill Tour after the US was vilified WORLD WIDE. Americans have been lying while traveling abroad, stating they are Canadian. Not any longer. The prize was awarded based on that and nothing else. He changed the attitude & status of Americans. After eight years of the silent treatment, he gave the world the opportunity to talk to us again.
Frustrating Thing #2:
Read this with a whine "But he's not doing anything..."
He. Has. Been. In. Office. Nine. Months.
He inherited the country at it's worst. Worst than during both World Wars, worse than perhaps even the Civil War. (based on opinion of people smarter than I) There was simply not one single thing that wasn't broken over the last eight years.
Give him a minute. It's so frustrating that Americans expect fast fixes to everything. Twice I have heard "Well, the past administration ram-rodded their agenda, why can't he?" Well, they did it ILLEGALLY and everyone was PISSED off. Just because we like the guy now doesn't make it right for him to do the same thing.
With any relationship, you can't give it a matter of months and then call it off without seeking help. The American people do have a relationship with the President. I think that has been forgotten because the past administration erased that from our consciousness.
He's available on Twitter, on Facebook, on MySpace. He has an email, a telephone number and an address. Have you been to the White House website? It's totally cool now. He wants our opinions and our help. As he has said all along, it is up to us.
Not to say that I give the President a free pass. I think he has an endgame plan. I see changes coming after the first year. If, and only if, after that things aren't changing, then I will rethink my support. But not in the first nine months. It takes a baby nine months to form and even then it's still helpless upon birth. Our country was brought down to it's base level and needs to be rebuilt. It's not going to happen quickly.
In the meanwhile. Take a Breath.
09 October 2009
Horders
Oprah had a show on hoarding. Well, actually she had a show about A&E's show Horders.
These shows terrify me. I'm compelled to go clean a closet or something. I'm not even a little bit at risk for hoarding but these shows scare me more than a horror flick.
My messiest place is my office. And most people would actually GUFFAW if they heard me say that & actually saw it. I have Monica's Closet and a few disorganized files but it's enough. It bothers me.
When we closed the Moody House with the parents, it was challenging. My m-i-l is a shopper. Her favorite channels are the shopping channels. She loves to browse second hand shops...she would go weekly if she could...and Christmas is just her heaven.
She had a room that she called the pantry. She had soups from 1991 (this was 2007) and who knew that water expired? She brought up ten boxes of canned/boxed goods when they moved up here with us....this is not counting what was in the cupboards where they stayed.
She was also a collector of dolls and that was a challenge. I have a few of them and so does everyone else in the family. But to her credit, this was also an accumulation of 25 years in one house.
Then let's travel a little further next door. My s-i-l is a terrible housekeeper. The kitchen counters are rarely visible. The dining room table almost always have laundry on it. (someone please explain that to me. The master bedroom is between the laundry room & dining room table.) There's always clutter and you're never really allowed in her office.
We don't use the bathrooms unless we really have to. We don't sit on the floor. It's not gross but it's definitely unclean.
As I watch these shows, I see glimpses of my b & s-i-l and it's scary. The show just featured a family that ate on the bed because it was the only available space. I can totally see that happen next door a la the grandparents in Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Family.
I'm afraid that once the parents pass away, we might be on high alert for hoarding next door. It scares me terribly. I hope that I'm wrong but I have an eerie feeling that I'm not.
These shows terrify me. I'm compelled to go clean a closet or something. I'm not even a little bit at risk for hoarding but these shows scare me more than a horror flick.
My messiest place is my office. And most people would actually GUFFAW if they heard me say that & actually saw it. I have Monica's Closet and a few disorganized files but it's enough. It bothers me.
When we closed the Moody House with the parents, it was challenging. My m-i-l is a shopper. Her favorite channels are the shopping channels. She loves to browse second hand shops...she would go weekly if she could...and Christmas is just her heaven.
She had a room that she called the pantry. She had soups from 1991 (this was 2007) and who knew that water expired? She brought up ten boxes of canned/boxed goods when they moved up here with us....this is not counting what was in the cupboards where they stayed.
She was also a collector of dolls and that was a challenge. I have a few of them and so does everyone else in the family. But to her credit, this was also an accumulation of 25 years in one house.
Then let's travel a little further next door. My s-i-l is a terrible housekeeper. The kitchen counters are rarely visible. The dining room table almost always have laundry on it. (someone please explain that to me. The master bedroom is between the laundry room & dining room table.) There's always clutter and you're never really allowed in her office.
We don't use the bathrooms unless we really have to. We don't sit on the floor. It's not gross but it's definitely unclean.
As I watch these shows, I see glimpses of my b & s-i-l and it's scary. The show just featured a family that ate on the bed because it was the only available space. I can totally see that happen next door a la the grandparents in Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Family.
I'm afraid that once the parents pass away, we might be on high alert for hoarding next door. It scares me terribly. I hope that I'm wrong but I have an eerie feeling that I'm not.
08 October 2009
Today is Your Birthday
The other day was the birthday of a former boyfriend. The date always sticks in my head. I'm not super-fabulous with dates so it's always a little odd milestone.
It's been twenty years since we dated. He was the transition guy between Michael the Psycho and Kevin. Poor guy. It was the classic soap opera-esque series of mistakes and miscommunications. The cake topper being hearing "You know he bought a ring, didn't you?"
blargh.
A part of me is a little relieved because he has four kids, including twins & the eldest son had a brain tumor. That could have been Me. I can't even imagine. Or conversely, look what I missed: four children versus none.
It's all good now. We've reconnected over the years. (OMG, OMG, OMG, OMG!! = the first time) We each have come to the conclusion that we probably wouldn't have made it in the long run. It was a remarkable relief to resolve that unfinished business.
Happy Birthday SP!!
It's been twenty years since we dated. He was the transition guy between Michael the Psycho and Kevin. Poor guy. It was the classic soap opera-esque series of mistakes and miscommunications. The cake topper being hearing "You know he bought a ring, didn't you?"
blargh.
A part of me is a little relieved because he has four kids, including twins & the eldest son had a brain tumor. That could have been Me. I can't even imagine. Or conversely, look what I missed: four children versus none.
It's all good now. We've reconnected over the years. (OMG, OMG, OMG, OMG!! = the first time) We each have come to the conclusion that we probably wouldn't have made it in the long run. It was a remarkable relief to resolve that unfinished business.
Happy Birthday SP!!
07 October 2009
Two of the Funniest Things Said
in the last seven days. One G rated and one R rated...
G-Rated:
My mother-in-law was just prescribed a CPAP machine for sleep apnea. They picked it up today and were telling Kevin about it. Kevin commented that it wasn't doing any good sitting in the box next to her chair.
"Well, we have to get stuff for it then we'll set it up" she says.
"Yeah, it needs Holy Water" my father-in-law says.
He was sincere. He meant distilled water, bless his heart.
If it were MY Dad, he would have meant Holy Water.
R-rated:
Last weekend we were racing. We stopped at Starbucks to get iced mochas (aka: the will to live)
Kevin jumps up into the truck with both mochas. He hands me one and says:
"I had them put one less pump in yours. Because I know you like that."
DUDE! Really?
My sister-in-law was in the backseat and missed it completely. I was laughing so hard I had tears streaming down my face.
Welcome to my life....
G-Rated:
My mother-in-law was just prescribed a CPAP machine for sleep apnea. They picked it up today and were telling Kevin about it. Kevin commented that it wasn't doing any good sitting in the box next to her chair.
"Well, we have to get stuff for it then we'll set it up" she says.
"Yeah, it needs Holy Water" my father-in-law says.
He was sincere. He meant distilled water, bless his heart.
If it were MY Dad, he would have meant Holy Water.
R-rated:
Last weekend we were racing. We stopped at Starbucks to get iced mochas (aka: the will to live)
Kevin jumps up into the truck with both mochas. He hands me one and says:
"I had them put one less pump in yours. Because I know you like that."
DUDE! Really?
My sister-in-law was in the backseat and missed it completely. I was laughing so hard I had tears streaming down my face.
Welcome to my life....
06 October 2009
Varmit Cong
You can add this to the "Firegirl has the weirdest stories to tell" file.
We have a mole in our yard. There are few things that makes Kevin completely LOSE IT. Moles are one of them. Especially moles that wander into the sodded yard. No, I'm not cursing Old English style...it's "bought yard". The back yard we just threw seed down and let it grow. The front yard we wanted to make it nicer, faster so we bought sod.
Once the mole made it's way from my b-i-l's yard to ours, Kevin was on the warpath. Imagine Bill Murray in Caddyshack. He was hunting the Varmit Cong.
My b-i-l is a rocking millwright. He built a mole killer, not a trap but a killer. It's a complicated series of rods and springs. Oh and a bullet.
I know, I know, I know. You're thinking what kind of redneck hick chick is Firegirl? Trust me, I'm not. Surely I have redneck roots but I can assure you that I have all my teeth and don't refer to Kevin as my Brother-Husband.
AND...what is it with bullets & this family?
The mechanism is placed over the mole hill. A potato is placed over a plunger. When the mole digs up to the potato, the potato moves and pushes the trigger. The concussion kills the mole. The bullet doesn't touch the mole, it's just the blast.
We have a garbage can over the trap so that it isn't so loud. And of course moles are nocturnal.
About 4:30 this morning we were awaken by a POW!!!! Kevin got himself a mole.
My nephew texted and said "It got him and it didn't just blow his finger off." (see: "This sh*t happens while I'm at work")
We have a mole in our yard. There are few things that makes Kevin completely LOSE IT. Moles are one of them. Especially moles that wander into the sodded yard. No, I'm not cursing Old English style...it's "bought yard". The back yard we just threw seed down and let it grow. The front yard we wanted to make it nicer, faster so we bought sod.
Once the mole made it's way from my b-i-l's yard to ours, Kevin was on the warpath. Imagine Bill Murray in Caddyshack. He was hunting the Varmit Cong.
My b-i-l is a rocking millwright. He built a mole killer, not a trap but a killer. It's a complicated series of rods and springs. Oh and a bullet.
I know, I know, I know. You're thinking what kind of redneck hick chick is Firegirl? Trust me, I'm not. Surely I have redneck roots but I can assure you that I have all my teeth and don't refer to Kevin as my Brother-Husband.
AND...what is it with bullets & this family?
The mechanism is placed over the mole hill. A potato is placed over a plunger. When the mole digs up to the potato, the potato moves and pushes the trigger. The concussion kills the mole. The bullet doesn't touch the mole, it's just the blast.
We have a garbage can over the trap so that it isn't so loud. And of course moles are nocturnal.
About 4:30 this morning we were awaken by a POW!!!! Kevin got himself a mole.
My nephew texted and said "It got him and it didn't just blow his finger off." (see: "This sh*t happens while I'm at work")
05 October 2009
Weekday Update
So, Kevin went for his thyroid check-up and all is good. These check-ups (every six months) always make me a little nervous but it's always fine. Did I ever remember to tell you that yes indeed there is a difference between generic & brand name meds? Yeah. Fun discovery. Especially when it's your "Stay Alive" medicine.
And, Food Experiment 2009 has reaped some awesome rewards! Kevin's cholesterol numbers dropped down to normal levels. The doctor is keeping him on super low dose cholesterol meds because of his hereditary health.
Mom still has the living room rearranged and she says that she hasn't heard from my dad since. Whew!
My fourteen year old niece said and I quote "I'm so over boys right now." I thought all the adults at the table were going to explode in a chorus of "Liar, Liar, Pants on Fire"
Continuing in my Swistle Solidarity this weekend, all of the rugs in the house have been washed & floors scrubbed. I also did one more sweep through the closet and reduced even more!
My favorite new shows are Glee and Community. FlashForward & The Good Wife are patiently waiting on the DVR. I'm going to watch them movie-style in the winter months.
I made the incredibly stupid mistake of watching the Grey's Anatomy premiere after work just a few days after the one month anniversary of Dad's passing. Kevin just shook his head & said "What are you doing?"
Trying to avoid sounding like I'm 70-years-old, I have to say my hip is better. I have to remind myself that "This is what you get when you roll a truck and you're 40 for God's sake." But, oddly it doesn't help. Go figure. On the upside - the stack of magazines next to my chair has shrunk.
And we're on the countdown to Vegas. We leave November 17th. Wooohooo....
And, Food Experiment 2009 has reaped some awesome rewards! Kevin's cholesterol numbers dropped down to normal levels. The doctor is keeping him on super low dose cholesterol meds because of his hereditary health.
Mom still has the living room rearranged and she says that she hasn't heard from my dad since. Whew!
My fourteen year old niece said and I quote "I'm so over boys right now." I thought all the adults at the table were going to explode in a chorus of "Liar, Liar, Pants on Fire"
Continuing in my Swistle Solidarity this weekend, all of the rugs in the house have been washed & floors scrubbed. I also did one more sweep through the closet and reduced even more!
My favorite new shows are Glee and Community. FlashForward & The Good Wife are patiently waiting on the DVR. I'm going to watch them movie-style in the winter months.
I made the incredibly stupid mistake of watching the Grey's Anatomy premiere after work just a few days after the one month anniversary of Dad's passing. Kevin just shook his head & said "What are you doing?"
Trying to avoid sounding like I'm 70-years-old, I have to say my hip is better. I have to remind myself that "This is what you get when you roll a truck and you're 40 for God's sake." But, oddly it doesn't help. Go figure. On the upside - the stack of magazines next to my chair has shrunk.
And we're on the countdown to Vegas. We leave November 17th. Wooohooo....
04 October 2009
Open Window
An ongoing controversy in this house is the bathroom windows. They are in the corners of the bathroom above the big o' tub. One looks toward Kevin's car & the shop. We always keep the blinds and sheer curtain closed because anyone can see in this window.
However, the other window looks over the front yard and is about five feet from the ground. I don't think I can look in it if I were to walk by.
No one comes into the front yard or uses the front door. Everyone goes to the back of the house. So the odds of someone walking by are slim, let alone undetected by us.
So I like to keep the blinds open. The off-white sheer is always over the window so it's not just an open window. Kevin however hates having the blinds open.
I just don't get it. Odd are 1000:1 that anyone would see anything unbecoming. Or that we would be able to duck out of the way if someone did happen to wander aimlessly past the window.
AND this is the guy who changes into his fire-protection race pants in the car trailer with no thought of who is walking by.
I guess I'm grateful that this is one of the few things that we disagree about.
However, the other window looks over the front yard and is about five feet from the ground. I don't think I can look in it if I were to walk by.
No one comes into the front yard or uses the front door. Everyone goes to the back of the house. So the odds of someone walking by are slim, let alone undetected by us.
So I like to keep the blinds open. The off-white sheer is always over the window so it's not just an open window. Kevin however hates having the blinds open.
I just don't get it. Odd are 1000:1 that anyone would see anything unbecoming. Or that we would be able to duck out of the way if someone did happen to wander aimlessly past the window.
AND this is the guy who changes into his fire-protection race pants in the car trailer with no thought of who is walking by.
I guess I'm grateful that this is one of the few things that we disagree about.
03 October 2009
Harvest Moon
“May you have warm words on a cold evening,
a full moon on a dark night
and a smooth road all the way to your door.”
~ Irish Blessing ~
02 October 2009
Let Sleeping Dogs Lie
Our old dog slept in front of the woodstove. Well, actually she slept nearly under the woodstove. She was a Australian/German Shepard mix with long hair and it felt like her fur was about to spontaneously combust but she wouldn't move.
Sometimes she would sleep in our room but that was only if it thundered or if one of us were sick. Then she'd sleep at the foot of the bed. She was convinced that it was her job to sleep on your feet, or your arm, or your entire body if you would let her. She was a big people dog.
Along came Missy Jo, a few months after we had to put down Aussie.
She rope-a-doped us from the very beginning. She was mellow & calm and slept curled in a tight ball next to Kevin the first few days we had her. Then it was as if she had an epiphany: "Hey! they're going to KEEP me. I can stop trying so hard."
Holy Mother of God, she turned into the Tasmanian Devil. Suddenly, it was ON. No coming when she's called, chasing after everything, literally tearing around the house. We were exhausted.
My family was here a few months later to celebrate my birthday. Kevin was explaining to my mom that we were considering giving Missy back because we just couldn't get a handle on her.
I'm telling you, it's as if Missy heard & understood. From that point forward, she was a good dog. "Oh, you meant lay down? How about here? This is good?" "Sit? Sure! I'd love to!"
We also learned to speak her language. If you don't speak with conviction, she will tell you to Piss Off, You're Not the Boss of Me. We also learned that treats were her currency.
Missy doesn't want to sleep with us. She doesn't even seem to like to share the house with us. If I vacuumed the office where her bed is, she is so annoyed. She looks at me and sighs as if to say "I just had that the way I like it. Stay Out of My Room."
Sometimes she would sleep in our room but that was only if it thundered or if one of us were sick. Then she'd sleep at the foot of the bed. She was convinced that it was her job to sleep on your feet, or your arm, or your entire body if you would let her. She was a big people dog.
Along came Missy Jo, a few months after we had to put down Aussie.
She rope-a-doped us from the very beginning. She was mellow & calm and slept curled in a tight ball next to Kevin the first few days we had her. Then it was as if she had an epiphany: "Hey! they're going to KEEP me. I can stop trying so hard."
Holy Mother of God, she turned into the Tasmanian Devil. Suddenly, it was ON. No coming when she's called, chasing after everything, literally tearing around the house. We were exhausted.
My family was here a few months later to celebrate my birthday. Kevin was explaining to my mom that we were considering giving Missy back because we just couldn't get a handle on her.
I'm telling you, it's as if Missy heard & understood. From that point forward, she was a good dog. "Oh, you meant lay down? How about here? This is good?" "Sit? Sure! I'd love to!"
We also learned to speak her language. If you don't speak with conviction, she will tell you to Piss Off, You're Not the Boss of Me. We also learned that treats were her currency.
Missy doesn't want to sleep with us. She doesn't even seem to like to share the house with us. If I vacuumed the office where her bed is, she is so annoyed. She looks at me and sighs as if to say "I just had that the way I like it. Stay Out of My Room."
01 October 2009
Twenty One
My adult nephew has a girlfriend that I don't much care for. I have a difficult time remembering her name because she has one of those late 80's princess names, Brittany, Ashley, Jessica, etc. It's awkward because I keep wanting to call her his former girlfriends name. Awkward!
They've been dating eight months and she's practically living with him. This would be fine normally, except the nephew still lives with His Parents. (yes, next door, in case you were wondering) The Nephew is atoning for past sins so I'm okay with him still living with his parents.
My dislike makes me a little uncomfortable because I'm close with my nephew and only want the best for him. But I have to trust that he will make the right choices and she's going to be okay.
Tonight as I was pulling into the "Firegirl Family Compound", Brittany/Ashley/whatever was coming "home" in front of me. For some reason, I suddenly remembered being her age.
At 21, I was divorced and newly dating Kevin. Because of the melodrama with Michael, we ended up living together much quicker than a "normal" relationship. Also, having come from a non-communicative, non-affectionate family, I was longing for any semblance of a family. Kevin's family was certainly more than I bargained for.
At 21, I was a little bit crazy. You can't get married to a pathological liar at eighteen and not be affected in a negative way. I'm sure Kevin's family was a little "WTF" with me at first as well.
It turns out that Princess Name does come from a shattered family. Mom is an addict and Dad is a classic enabler. She has a little sister that she's trying to protect while also trying to take care of herself. I'm sure that this family seems like the Brady Bunch to her.
So, suddenly I got it. I understood. Like his uncle Kevin, Nephew is The Good Guy. Like Firegirl, Princess Name is just trying to make her way. I hope she is as lucky as I was.
They've been dating eight months and she's practically living with him. This would be fine normally, except the nephew still lives with His Parents. (yes, next door, in case you were wondering) The Nephew is atoning for past sins so I'm okay with him still living with his parents.
My dislike makes me a little uncomfortable because I'm close with my nephew and only want the best for him. But I have to trust that he will make the right choices and she's going to be okay.
Tonight as I was pulling into the "Firegirl Family Compound", Brittany/Ashley/whatever was coming "home" in front of me. For some reason, I suddenly remembered being her age.
At 21, I was divorced and newly dating Kevin. Because of the melodrama with Michael, we ended up living together much quicker than a "normal" relationship. Also, having come from a non-communicative, non-affectionate family, I was longing for any semblance of a family. Kevin's family was certainly more than I bargained for.
At 21, I was a little bit crazy. You can't get married to a pathological liar at eighteen and not be affected in a negative way. I'm sure Kevin's family was a little "WTF" with me at first as well.
It turns out that Princess Name does come from a shattered family. Mom is an addict and Dad is a classic enabler. She has a little sister that she's trying to protect while also trying to take care of herself. I'm sure that this family seems like the Brady Bunch to her.
So, suddenly I got it. I understood. Like his uncle Kevin, Nephew is The Good Guy. Like Firegirl, Princess Name is just trying to make her way. I hope she is as lucky as I was.
29 September 2009
View from the Couch
This morning I had the audacity to tie my shoes & stand up. For my efforts, I was given a dislocated hip. I can't complain...much...because when you roll your truck down an embankment over a year ago, the occasional hip trouble is okay.
Although spending quality time with the chiropractor, couch, recliner, ibuprofen and ice was not necessarily on my schedule of events this week, I have to assume that it's the universes way of telling me to slow down.
So, I'm getting caught up on the DVR, magazines, laundry (not so much, but I made the effort) and look, I'm posting to the blog! And, my mother-in-law is making us dinner tonight. I considered brownies but as you see from the picture, I didn't get that accomplished.
Sometimes, injuries are blessings in disguise.
26 September 2009
Signs of Life
One of the more interesting...or perhaps weird...things I've wondered about since my Dad died is whether or not he would present himself in any way.
The answer is yes.
The day before his memorial I was home alone, writing on the laptop in the living room. The wind kicked up suddenly, unusual where we live, and the bedroom door slammed shut. The lamp next to the bed also crashed to the floor.
I didn't even get up to look. "Hi Dad" is all I said.
The light momentarily going out during the memorial service. It was in a string of fluorescent lights and only one went out. Not flickered, but off then on. And no one was near a light switch. I think someone even said "There's Fred" when it happened.
There are lots of legends about signs from the "afterlife". Pennies, we've discussed before. I haven't noticed any more pennies than before. Even my mom mentioned, during the ghost sighting conversation, that she hadn't noticed any pennies. "But leave it to your dad to do things differently."
The answer is yes.
The day before his memorial I was home alone, writing on the laptop in the living room. The wind kicked up suddenly, unusual where we live, and the bedroom door slammed shut. The lamp next to the bed also crashed to the floor.
I didn't even get up to look. "Hi Dad" is all I said.
The light momentarily going out during the memorial service. It was in a string of fluorescent lights and only one went out. Not flickered, but off then on. And no one was near a light switch. I think someone even said "There's Fred" when it happened.
There are lots of legends about signs from the "afterlife". Pennies, we've discussed before. I haven't noticed any more pennies than before. Even my mom mentioned, during the ghost sighting conversation, that she hadn't noticed any pennies. "But leave it to your dad to do things differently."
25 September 2009
Cinematherapy
I use movies as a coping mechanism. Facebook just had one of those getting-to-know-you pass-alongs and the question was "Could you go a day without television?"
Umm, no.
I have the "luxury" of no children so television has become a companion. And it's not like I do nothing else while I'm home. I'm writing this blog, I'm writing the book, I'm reading magazines, I'm doing chores. Often all at the same time!
Meanwhile, cinematherapy is an actual thing. Here's the proof: Cinematherapy
Here are my movies:
If I can't sleep, I can put in Sabrina or You've Got Mail and I'm OUT, guaranteed.
If I am in a bad mood, Princess Bride or What About Bob?
If I need a good cry, Return to Me, Hope Floats or The Family Stone.
If I just need to get lost for awhile, Pride & Prejudice....well, any Jane Austen really.
Think about your movie collection, how would you categorize them for therapy?
Umm, no.
I have the "luxury" of no children so television has become a companion. And it's not like I do nothing else while I'm home. I'm writing this blog, I'm writing the book, I'm reading magazines, I'm doing chores. Often all at the same time!
Meanwhile, cinematherapy is an actual thing. Here's the proof: Cinematherapy
Here are my movies:
If I can't sleep, I can put in Sabrina or You've Got Mail and I'm OUT, guaranteed.
If I am in a bad mood, Princess Bride or What About Bob?
If I need a good cry, Return to Me, Hope Floats or The Family Stone.
If I just need to get lost for awhile, Pride & Prejudice....well, any Jane Austen really.
Think about your movie collection, how would you categorize them for therapy?
24 September 2009
It's a Ghost, Scooby Doo
My mom called last night. She was just checking in and seems to be doing okay. Other than she teared up while telling me how well she was going.
Then she said that she had something to tell me that she'd only told her BFF. I held my breath, because really, who knows at this point?
She began her story and then stopped. She said "If I'm lying, I'm dying."
I busted out laughing at that. She's 74 years old.
Mom was sitting in her chair, where she normally sits to watch television or read. While where she sits remains the same, she moved where my dad's chair was...oh, the next morning....
I know, right?
She said she'd been reading a while when something caught her eye.
A flash of light was hovering over my dad's chair. Then it went to the end of the couch where she was sitting then finally lighted over where my dad's chair used to be. Then it disappeared completely.
Mom said she wasn't scared at all, her heart didn't race or anything. She is sure that it was my dad. She said that it was just like you see on the "Ghost Hunters" show.
I agree, I think it was Dad and in his Dad-like way, he was making it known that he's not happy she moved his frigging chair!
Then she said that she had something to tell me that she'd only told her BFF. I held my breath, because really, who knows at this point?
She began her story and then stopped. She said "If I'm lying, I'm dying."
I busted out laughing at that. She's 74 years old.
Mom was sitting in her chair, where she normally sits to watch television or read. While where she sits remains the same, she moved where my dad's chair was...oh, the next morning....
I know, right?
She said she'd been reading a while when something caught her eye.
A flash of light was hovering over my dad's chair. Then it went to the end of the couch where she was sitting then finally lighted over where my dad's chair used to be. Then it disappeared completely.
Mom said she wasn't scared at all, her heart didn't race or anything. She is sure that it was my dad. She said that it was just like you see on the "Ghost Hunters" show.
I agree, I think it was Dad and in his Dad-like way, he was making it known that he's not happy she moved his frigging chair!
23 September 2009
Sh*t that Happens While I'm at Work
My nephew was waiting in the driveway when I got home tonight.
"So, Grandpa B shot himself in the hand today..."
"Of course he did. What happened?"
Grandpa B is my sister-in-law's dad and he lives on the other side of our house. He's like a dad to me. He is also accident prone, clearly.
I asked J what happened and he explained
"He called Grandpa a few hours ago because he shot himself in the hand and he didn't know what to do."
"Didn't. Know. What. To. DO?"
"Yeah, he said it wouldn't stop bleeding and spurting blood."
"It's called an effing ARTERY!" I interject.
"I know, right? So Grandpa tells him he has to go to the ER so his granddaughter took him."
"Now, wait, what? What was he doing with a gun?"
Grandpa B was working with his granddaughter and they were cleaning his bedroom. B had taken his gun down from the closet shelf and was emptying the chamber when the gun went off.
Of course it did.
J went back to his house and I went inside to do the laundry. A few minutes later I heard voices in the driveway so I walked out.
There stands B, my f-i-l, s-i-l, and nephew talking about what happened.
"I didn't have my finger on the trigger, it was just on the hammer." He insisted.
"Well, clearly you did or the gun wouldn't have gone off."
"I only had my finger on the hammer and I was starting to take the bullets out when the gun went off."
"But I didn't have my finger on the trigger, it was on the hammer."
"Was it a six-shooter? you had to have it on the trigger."
He blew the tip of his finger OFF. He is so freaking lucky that he only lost a fingertip.
"I don't have a finger print now. "
"Yes, now you can rob a bank undetected. Too bad you can't use a gun properly."
Yeah, this is SO not the family that you're going to get sympathy from.
He blew a hole in the wall of his house, it went clean through. "So, I'll have to fix that in the morning" he says, completely unbothered by the whole thing.
"Did you get blood all over the house?"
No, just on my clothes & the towel." He had a remarkably small amount of blood on his clothes so I'm guessing he's wrong. My s-i-l went down with him to check it out. She had instructions to take all guns & sharp objects away from him.
"A spork, you can have a spork." we told him.
"So, Grandpa B shot himself in the hand today..."
"Of course he did. What happened?"
Grandpa B is my sister-in-law's dad and he lives on the other side of our house. He's like a dad to me. He is also accident prone, clearly.
I asked J what happened and he explained
"He called Grandpa a few hours ago because he shot himself in the hand and he didn't know what to do."
"Didn't. Know. What. To. DO?"
"Yeah, he said it wouldn't stop bleeding and spurting blood."
"It's called an effing ARTERY!" I interject.
"I know, right? So Grandpa tells him he has to go to the ER so his granddaughter took him."
"Now, wait, what? What was he doing with a gun?"
Grandpa B was working with his granddaughter and they were cleaning his bedroom. B had taken his gun down from the closet shelf and was emptying the chamber when the gun went off.
Of course it did.
J went back to his house and I went inside to do the laundry. A few minutes later I heard voices in the driveway so I walked out.
There stands B, my f-i-l, s-i-l, and nephew talking about what happened.
"I didn't have my finger on the trigger, it was just on the hammer." He insisted.
"Well, clearly you did or the gun wouldn't have gone off."
"I only had my finger on the hammer and I was starting to take the bullets out when the gun went off."
"But I didn't have my finger on the trigger, it was on the hammer."
"Was it a six-shooter? you had to have it on the trigger."
He blew the tip of his finger OFF. He is so freaking lucky that he only lost a fingertip.
"I don't have a finger print now. "
"Yes, now you can rob a bank undetected. Too bad you can't use a gun properly."
Yeah, this is SO not the family that you're going to get sympathy from.
He blew a hole in the wall of his house, it went clean through. "So, I'll have to fix that in the morning" he says, completely unbothered by the whole thing.
"Did you get blood all over the house?"
No, just on my clothes & the towel." He had a remarkably small amount of blood on his clothes so I'm guessing he's wrong. My s-i-l went down with him to check it out. She had instructions to take all guns & sharp objects away from him.
"A spork, you can have a spork." we told him.
22 September 2009
21 September 2009
Did you cut your hair?
What I have just recently noticed is how much stress had altered my vision. I've had a few realizations/discoveries...I can see again.
When did my windows get so dirty?
I can't remember the last time I filed.
I've noticed changes that have occurred over the past year that I just hadn't seen.
I can't remember the last time I shopped for the sake of shopping vs. basic needs.
Why can't I get through the stack of magazines next to my chair?
Good God I am sick of eating in restaurants!
People have aged, children have grown, life has moved on.
At first I thought it was because I'd finally gotten new glasses. I kept putting it off until I couldn't hardly see anymore. I literally picked up my glasses the morning after my dad died. (not my best idea, by the way) The sudden clarity, I assumed, was the new coke-bottle, tri-focal glasses. Turns out, it wasn't.
It is as if someone has let the air out of my life but in a good way. The tension is gone. My concentration has returned, my imagination has re-engaged. I can count on being on a schedule again.
And I can leave my doggone cell phone on the counter and not worry about it. I didn't realize what an anchor it had become.
Whew. I can breathe.
When did my windows get so dirty?
I can't remember the last time I filed.
I've noticed changes that have occurred over the past year that I just hadn't seen.
I can't remember the last time I shopped for the sake of shopping vs. basic needs.
Why can't I get through the stack of magazines next to my chair?
Good God I am sick of eating in restaurants!
People have aged, children have grown, life has moved on.
At first I thought it was because I'd finally gotten new glasses. I kept putting it off until I couldn't hardly see anymore. I literally picked up my glasses the morning after my dad died. (not my best idea, by the way) The sudden clarity, I assumed, was the new coke-bottle, tri-focal glasses. Turns out, it wasn't.
It is as if someone has let the air out of my life but in a good way. The tension is gone. My concentration has returned, my imagination has re-engaged. I can count on being on a schedule again.
And I can leave my doggone cell phone on the counter and not worry about it. I didn't realize what an anchor it had become.
Whew. I can breathe.
20 September 2009
Slate and Chalk
...would be easier than this, I would think.
In trying to get back into the whole writing groove, I found myself sitting with two computers and a disc, trying to figure out where I was six months ago. Only to find the document I need is on my work computer...I think...saved in Hotmail? Nope...well, sh*t....
Remember when computers & technology was going to make our lives So Much Easier?
(yes, that's car porn on both computers...in a house dominated by cars, I've given up & have all
my pretty pictures on my work computer...)
In trying to get back into the whole writing groove, I found myself sitting with two computers and a disc, trying to figure out where I was six months ago. Only to find the document I need is on my work computer...I think...saved in Hotmail? Nope...well, sh*t....
Remember when computers & technology was going to make our lives So Much Easier?
(yes, that's car porn on both computers...in a house dominated by cars, I've given up & have allmy pretty pictures on my work computer...)
19 September 2009
This. House. Is. Clean.
Saturdays are usually my housecleaning day. This summer I haven't been on schedule so much but with living on the outskirts of OCD-ville, it hasn't been an Oh My God-like issue.
Today the house is clean from top to bottom. It hasn't been this clean in a while. I may not allow the dog or Kevin to enter. Good for them the family lives next door.
In fact, earlier my m-i-l asked if she could come over to have me order something online. Kevin told her "Firegirl is, er, *busy*, right now." Which is code for "Firegirl has the house torn up from the floor up and no one is allowed in until it is righted." Bless him.
In continued solidarity with Swistle, I cleaned every window in this house and deep cleaned the bathrooms. I feel so accomplished!
Swistle also asked how everyone folded their towels. I roll them, military style, which was a miracle because when we moved into this house, we discovered that the old house had a bigger linen closet. Yikes. However, rolling the washcloths have been a fail thus far. The drawer is so small that if you grab one, you get two and create a frustrating little avalanche of washcloths.
Funny how towel folding has bonded us all.
Cleaners...everyone has their favorites. I tend to use the old standards: PineSol, 409, Comet, and Windex. I've tried all the others and they just don't work as well; especially Windex. I've also tried the environmentally friendly cleaners & found them also failing. Along with the generic products, the e-friendly cleaners have to use twice as much in order to get the same results. Unlike the generics, I get to pay twice the price for half the use. Yeah. Fail.
I use rags instead of wipes. I cringe at the image of the landfills filled wipes and Swiffers. Oh, Swiffers! I just can't get behind them. I've tried them at the Mother-in-Laws and while I appreciate the principle, I've found a mop works better. Although the Swiffer commercial with the broom in the hot tub makes me laugh...watch it, notice that he drops his towel in front of the housewife at the end of the commercial.
The only disposable thing that I use is the Swiffer duster. I could simply never live with out my duster. As it's my least favorite chore, I feel somewhat justified spending the extra money and contributing to the landfill.
Now, Dirty Dancing is on ABC Family and I'm going to sit on my ass and watch it. Join me, won't you?
Today the house is clean from top to bottom. It hasn't been this clean in a while. I may not allow the dog or Kevin to enter. Good for them the family lives next door.
In fact, earlier my m-i-l asked if she could come over to have me order something online. Kevin told her "Firegirl is, er, *busy*, right now." Which is code for "Firegirl has the house torn up from the floor up and no one is allowed in until it is righted." Bless him.
In continued solidarity with Swistle, I cleaned every window in this house and deep cleaned the bathrooms. I feel so accomplished!
Swistle also asked how everyone folded their towels. I roll them, military style, which was a miracle because when we moved into this house, we discovered that the old house had a bigger linen closet. Yikes. However, rolling the washcloths have been a fail thus far. The drawer is so small that if you grab one, you get two and create a frustrating little avalanche of washcloths.
Funny how towel folding has bonded us all.
Cleaners...everyone has their favorites. I tend to use the old standards: PineSol, 409, Comet, and Windex. I've tried all the others and they just don't work as well; especially Windex. I've also tried the environmentally friendly cleaners & found them also failing. Along with the generic products, the e-friendly cleaners have to use twice as much in order to get the same results. Unlike the generics, I get to pay twice the price for half the use. Yeah. Fail.
I use rags instead of wipes. I cringe at the image of the landfills filled wipes and Swiffers. Oh, Swiffers! I just can't get behind them. I've tried them at the Mother-in-Laws and while I appreciate the principle, I've found a mop works better. Although the Swiffer commercial with the broom in the hot tub makes me laugh...watch it, notice that he drops his towel in front of the housewife at the end of the commercial.
The only disposable thing that I use is the Swiffer duster. I could simply never live with out my duster. As it's my least favorite chore, I feel somewhat justified spending the extra money and contributing to the landfill.
Now, Dirty Dancing is on ABC Family and I'm going to sit on my ass and watch it. Join me, won't you?
18 September 2009
He's Just Not that Into You
or is he?
In this age of romantic comedies and metrosexual men, I wonder if we have some high expectations of men these days? Or maybe I'm just seeing the differences between generations right now with watching my parents marriage and my nieces experience the dating world. For instance, the niece breaking up with the "I love you" in five days or less boy.
What really brought this topic up was the most unfortunate response to the first spoken "I love you." Ironically, it was along the lines of Patrick Swayze's "Ditto" response in the movie Ghost.
Once you glue yourself back together after that, what do you do?
When I posed this question to Kevin & my friends, the responses were varied:
"He's just not into her."
"That's all he has to give"
"Perhaps he's not ready, give it time."
"Be careful what you ask for"
"She needs to decide what she wants & how long she's willing to wait"
Having been raised in a non-communicative & non-affectionate family, I guess I might be more patient than most. Kevin was slow with the "L" and "M" word. He was faithful, I knew I didn't have to worry about that, so I was okay with the waiting. We were both so broken when we met, that it took awhile for us to mend and open to new possibilities.
Sure, I had moments when I considered where the relationship was going & how long I was willing to stay. In the long run, I was okay with the direction so I was willing to wait. So, glad that I did, now nineteen years later!
Kevin's not a huge affectionate guy but we say "Love you" at the end of each telephone conversation, before bed & before he leaves for work. I never heard those words as a child, or even as a teen (from boys, not the family) so even that was quite an adjustment for me.
Then I think of the old Westerns, those tough old cowboys. Men of a few generations ago were rarely sentimental, affectionate or romantic. The romance gene seems to be a result of evolution. Not that it is a bad thing but where does it leave the Old School guys? Or the ones from broken/damaged families such as mine?
While the "Ditto" response is never a good thing to hear, is it a deal-breaker?
In this age of romantic comedies and metrosexual men, I wonder if we have some high expectations of men these days? Or maybe I'm just seeing the differences between generations right now with watching my parents marriage and my nieces experience the dating world. For instance, the niece breaking up with the "I love you" in five days or less boy.
What really brought this topic up was the most unfortunate response to the first spoken "I love you." Ironically, it was along the lines of Patrick Swayze's "Ditto" response in the movie Ghost.
Once you glue yourself back together after that, what do you do?
When I posed this question to Kevin & my friends, the responses were varied:
"He's just not into her."
"That's all he has to give"
"Perhaps he's not ready, give it time."
"Be careful what you ask for"
"She needs to decide what she wants & how long she's willing to wait"
Having been raised in a non-communicative & non-affectionate family, I guess I might be more patient than most. Kevin was slow with the "L" and "M" word. He was faithful, I knew I didn't have to worry about that, so I was okay with the waiting. We were both so broken when we met, that it took awhile for us to mend and open to new possibilities.
Sure, I had moments when I considered where the relationship was going & how long I was willing to stay. In the long run, I was okay with the direction so I was willing to wait. So, glad that I did, now nineteen years later!
Kevin's not a huge affectionate guy but we say "Love you" at the end of each telephone conversation, before bed & before he leaves for work. I never heard those words as a child, or even as a teen (from boys, not the family) so even that was quite an adjustment for me.
Then I think of the old Westerns, those tough old cowboys. Men of a few generations ago were rarely sentimental, affectionate or romantic. The romance gene seems to be a result of evolution. Not that it is a bad thing but where does it leave the Old School guys? Or the ones from broken/damaged families such as mine?
While the "Ditto" response is never a good thing to hear, is it a deal-breaker?
17 September 2009
Random Items of the Day
A few years ago, we won a picture at Kevin's Christmas party. At the time we were all *whatever* but when we went down to the gallery to choose what we wanted, we were a little dumbfounded.
Jack Gunter is a local artist that has done murals in Stanwood, where Kevin works. He has a tiny little gallery in the Stanwood shopping center. His work varies from whimsical, featuring pigs either obviously or Where's Waldo style, or landscapes. If I had a million dollars, there would be no other pictures in our house other than his.
We both chose the same painting, to the amusement of the cashiers:
A few months later, we were given a signed print of Jacks by someone else that felt it would be nice if we had two for our house. My father-in-law matted & framed it for us:
Jack Gunter is a local artist that has done murals in Stanwood, where Kevin works. He has a tiny little gallery in the Stanwood shopping center. His work varies from whimsical, featuring pigs either obviously or Where's Waldo style, or landscapes. If I had a million dollars, there would be no other pictures in our house other than his.
We both chose the same painting, to the amusement of the cashiers:
A few months later, we were given a signed print of Jacks by someone else that felt it would be nice if we had two for our house. My father-in-law matted & framed it for us:
16 September 2009
Pennies
"If you see a penny pick it up and all day you'll have good luck."
How I know/remember this saying is it was a line in Grease. Said by Pinky at the drag race in the viaducts. I remember watching that with my mom & she telling about actually doing that when she was a teen.
For whatever reason, that little saying has always stuck with me.
Then Dear Abby published a bunch of stories of people finding pennies years ago and I kind of started paying attention.
Pennies do turn up in the oddest places. I often notice them laying around and always pick them up. It is also interesting how often they are shiny...not necessarily new but often shiny.
I don't know if they've brought me luck or not but at least I know that *I've* made the effort.
Not that I do anything altruistic with them. I throw all of our change into a big blue coffee cup that has become our Vegas Savings Account. It's a good thing that the trip doesn't depend on this coffee cup because we would be taking the Greyhound & sleeping in the station. It's the effort that counts.
Do you pick up pennies?
15 September 2009
Hijacking Facebook
Kevin is on Facebook as well. At first, I updated his account regularly but now he's doing it mostly himself. His friends are mostly car guys and family but there are a few old friends from our previous lives. (including the ex-wife)
The problem being is someone on his Facebook has completely hijacked Facebook. Updates are flooded with comments, their updates are anything from inappropriate to melodramatic, photos etc are posted without asking permission. It's kind of difficult.
It's not to the "unfriend" level because they are actually a good friend, contrary to the evidence presented. But it's nearly to the level of having to say something.
I've already "hidden" all the quiz results, gifts, and games so that he can at least read other friends updates without harassment. Thankfully, other people can't necessarily tell that he's been hijacked by looking at his profile.
We keep hoping that perhaps once the shiney-newness wears off that it will calm down. But history has shown that the moment something happens, everyone is peppered with comments.
Has anyone else experienced this? What did you do?
The problem being is someone on his Facebook has completely hijacked Facebook. Updates are flooded with comments, their updates are anything from inappropriate to melodramatic, photos etc are posted without asking permission. It's kind of difficult.
It's not to the "unfriend" level because they are actually a good friend, contrary to the evidence presented. But it's nearly to the level of having to say something.
I've already "hidden" all the quiz results, gifts, and games so that he can at least read other friends updates without harassment. Thankfully, other people can't necessarily tell that he's been hijacked by looking at his profile.
We keep hoping that perhaps once the shiney-newness wears off that it will calm down. But history has shown that the moment something happens, everyone is peppered with comments.
Has anyone else experienced this? What did you do?
14 September 2009
It's a Small World
Firstly, apologies for putting that song in your head. Oh, you didn't have that song in your head upon reading that but now you do? Double-apologies.
Blogger world has gotten a little small lately:
Bethany recently posted a picture that I recognized and it turns out she was in My Town! What are the odds of that??
Swistle was just about one state away and don't think for a second that I didn't mildly obsess about going to visit her while she was on this side of the States.
Linda lives about two hours from me and she just twittered the lack of a babysitter this weekend. I wonder if she'd mind if we took her children to the racetrack? Just to clarify, I'm *joking*. Otherwise I'm a little scared I might find them on the 1-5 on-ramp as we go through the city. (:-D
Blogger world has gotten a little small lately:
Bethany recently posted a picture that I recognized and it turns out she was in My Town! What are the odds of that??
Swistle was just about one state away and don't think for a second that I didn't mildly obsess about going to visit her while she was on this side of the States.
Linda lives about two hours from me and she just twittered the lack of a babysitter this weekend. I wonder if she'd mind if we took her children to the racetrack? Just to clarify, I'm *joking*. Otherwise I'm a little scared I might find them on the 1-5 on-ramp as we go through the city. (:-D
13 September 2009
Powering Back On
It's been a week of "radio silence" and now it's time for life to return to normal.
So, what's been going on? *looking around*
Well, we just watched Kanye be a complete TOOL on MTV.
And I just heard the "rumor" that Lady GaGa might be a transvestite. Totally get that.
Our niece took our six-year-old nephew to his first concert. Katy Perry. I'm sure that's in the Top 10 Things to Do with Your Children, yes?
Coming home from work on Friday, there was a horse on the road. Yeah, the same human that allowed the dog to get loose that I subsequently hit with the truck had now managed to lose a HORSE. Clearly a responsible individual. The funny part of this story is I met Gretta, the dog I hit! She's fine but not-so-much pretty. There's a Frankenstein-like scar on her head and a droopy eye. Otherwise, she's a friendly dog. She seemed to hold no ill will toward me or the truck.
Swistle is on a cleaning tour through her home in prep for the visit from her monster-in-law. In solidarity, I cleaned out my closet and cleaned underneath the kitchen sink. I know, I should slow down, huh?
My fourteen year old niece kicked a guy to the curb because he said "I love you" after the first week of dating. GOOD GIRL. Way to avoid Future Stalker!
School has begun again and the weather has taken on a Fall feeling. My goal is to be on track and on task. Never accomplished that before but WTH, I'll give it a try.
Good to be back y'all.
So, what's been going on? *looking around*
Well, we just watched Kanye be a complete TOOL on MTV.
And I just heard the "rumor" that Lady GaGa might be a transvestite. Totally get that.
Our niece took our six-year-old nephew to his first concert. Katy Perry. I'm sure that's in the Top 10 Things to Do with Your Children, yes?
Coming home from work on Friday, there was a horse on the road. Yeah, the same human that allowed the dog to get loose that I subsequently hit with the truck had now managed to lose a HORSE. Clearly a responsible individual. The funny part of this story is I met Gretta, the dog I hit! She's fine but not-so-much pretty. There's a Frankenstein-like scar on her head and a droopy eye. Otherwise, she's a friendly dog. She seemed to hold no ill will toward me or the truck.
Swistle is on a cleaning tour through her home in prep for the visit from her monster-in-law. In solidarity, I cleaned out my closet and cleaned underneath the kitchen sink. I know, I should slow down, huh?
My fourteen year old niece kicked a guy to the curb because he said "I love you" after the first week of dating. GOOD GIRL. Way to avoid Future Stalker!
School has begun again and the weather has taken on a Fall feeling. My goal is to be on track and on task. Never accomplished that before but WTH, I'll give it a try.
Good to be back y'all.
06 September 2009
The Final Call
First, go get the kleenex...seriously. I'll wait.
Ready?
Today was my Dad's wake. The fire department took care of everything, we just had to show up. I mean they took care of everything.
At 1:45, the fire department's chief's rigs pulled in the driveway to take us to the department. Eleven of us piled into four vehicles to be delivered in fire department style. They took us around the lake first, sirens silent and lights flashing.
As we pulled off the main highway, you can see the fire department. Everywhere there are fire trucks and two ladder trucks with ladders extended over the driveway in an arch. Along the way, fire fighters from all the local departments stood at attention in uniforms and the pouring down rain.
It was incredible, something that you would see on television. I was awed and touched, until I saw the Boy Scouts. Yes, Boy Scouts. These future little men standing at attention in their uniforms, shoulder to shoulder with the firefighters. I had to take a couple deep breaths before I could get down out of the truck.
We were escorted into a packed fire hall. There are pictures, plaques, and mementos of my Dad everywhere you look. They had enlarged three pictures of Dad sitting in the antique fire engine and smiling so big. We hadn't seen those pictures before. Deep breaths, again.
The service began with the reading of the obituary. It was read by the fire department chaplain, who knew & liked Dad even though Dad was the toughest of non-believers. He didn't attempt to saint Dad, but described him just as he was. A tough, difficult, contradictory old man who gave his all to the department.
Then he read the speech that Brett - current fire department chief & like-a-son-to Dad, wrote but didn't have the heart to read. Again, he talked about Dad as he was. It was perfect and heartbreaking. He too had lost Dad.
Oh, and mid-speech one of the lights went out momentarily, we're all sure that Dad was responsible. That and for the POURING DOWN RAIN.
Finally, one of the Fire Commissioners spoke. He told stories about how this "young kid" often butted heads with the Old Man of the Department. He finished it with "I know Fred doesn't think I'm a rule breaker. But today, if any day, is the day. I know the fire department is 'dry' but not right at this moment. I am breaking the rule. This is for you, Fred." He popped open a beer and took a drink. We didn't know whether to laugh or cry so we did both.
The ceremony part finished and we were able to see all the pictures and visit with every person I have ever met in my life. Former neighbors, former & current firefighters, old friends. Every where we turned, there was a friendly face. Everyone telling stories and getting caught up on the local news. We ate and watched the rain, making jokes that Dad's so annoyed that he's making it rain.
Finally, we are gathered together again. The family is asked to line up outside, in front of the fire department. In total silence, the fire fighters line up into formation. The six Boy Scouts (two of which are Brett's sons) march to the flag pole (that my dad built) and lower the still at half-mast flag. As solemn as pre-teen boys can be, they fold it and present it to Brett who then presented it to my mom.
Then, the firefighters are called to attention and we hear their radios go to static. For one full minute, all radios are open to static.
Radio Silence.
They quiet each radio systematically then we hear the Skagit County Emergency Services Central Dispatch voice come across the radios:
Radio Silence.
The fire department chaplain then recited the Firefighters Prayer:
Ready?
Today was my Dad's wake. The fire department took care of everything, we just had to show up. I mean they took care of everything.
At 1:45, the fire department's chief's rigs pulled in the driveway to take us to the department. Eleven of us piled into four vehicles to be delivered in fire department style. They took us around the lake first, sirens silent and lights flashing.
As we pulled off the main highway, you can see the fire department. Everywhere there are fire trucks and two ladder trucks with ladders extended over the driveway in an arch. Along the way, fire fighters from all the local departments stood at attention in uniforms and the pouring down rain.
It was incredible, something that you would see on television. I was awed and touched, until I saw the Boy Scouts. Yes, Boy Scouts. These future little men standing at attention in their uniforms, shoulder to shoulder with the firefighters. I had to take a couple deep breaths before I could get down out of the truck.
We were escorted into a packed fire hall. There are pictures, plaques, and mementos of my Dad everywhere you look. They had enlarged three pictures of Dad sitting in the antique fire engine and smiling so big. We hadn't seen those pictures before. Deep breaths, again.
The service began with the reading of the obituary. It was read by the fire department chaplain, who knew & liked Dad even though Dad was the toughest of non-believers. He didn't attempt to saint Dad, but described him just as he was. A tough, difficult, contradictory old man who gave his all to the department.
Then he read the speech that Brett - current fire department chief & like-a-son-to Dad, wrote but didn't have the heart to read. Again, he talked about Dad as he was. It was perfect and heartbreaking. He too had lost Dad.
Oh, and mid-speech one of the lights went out momentarily, we're all sure that Dad was responsible. That and for the POURING DOWN RAIN.
Finally, one of the Fire Commissioners spoke. He told stories about how this "young kid" often butted heads with the Old Man of the Department. He finished it with "I know Fred doesn't think I'm a rule breaker. But today, if any day, is the day. I know the fire department is 'dry' but not right at this moment. I am breaking the rule. This is for you, Fred." He popped open a beer and took a drink. We didn't know whether to laugh or cry so we did both.
The ceremony part finished and we were able to see all the pictures and visit with every person I have ever met in my life. Former neighbors, former & current firefighters, old friends. Every where we turned, there was a friendly face. Everyone telling stories and getting caught up on the local news. We ate and watched the rain, making jokes that Dad's so annoyed that he's making it rain.
Finally, we are gathered together again. The family is asked to line up outside, in front of the fire department. In total silence, the fire fighters line up into formation. The six Boy Scouts (two of which are Brett's sons) march to the flag pole (that my dad built) and lower the still at half-mast flag. As solemn as pre-teen boys can be, they fold it and present it to Brett who then presented it to my mom.
Then, the firefighters are called to attention and we hear their radios go to static. For one full minute, all radios are open to static.
Radio Silence.
They quiet each radio systematically then we hear the Skagit County Emergency Services Central Dispatch voice come across the radios:
"This is the final call for Big Lake Volunteer Fire Department Chief Fredrick Moore. After 46 years of service, this is his final call."
Radio Silence.
The fire department chaplain then recited the Firefighters Prayer:
When I'm called to duty God
wherever flames may rage
give me strength to save a life
whatever be its age
Help me to embrace a little child
before it is too late
or save an older person from
the horror of that fate
Enable me to be alert
to hear the weakest shout
and quickly and efficiently
to put the fire out
I want to fill my calling and
to give the best in me
to guard my neighbor and
protect his property
And if according to your will
I have to lose my life
bless with your protecting hand
my children and my wife.
Dad's final wish was to go for one last ride on the antique fire engine. In the still pouring down rain, the firefighters load him onto the engine, we enter into the fire rigs again and proceed with full Skagit County Sheriff's escort around the lake for Dad's last ride. Lights flashing, sirens silent, and two firefighters standing guard on the truck with Dad for one final call.
04 September 2009
Worst Job Ever
After several attempts, I finally got a good picture of this job...
I can't imagine the grossness of this job as I think my body would physically turn inside out. Sweaty polyester that who knows how many people have worn. The person waves as if to say "I've abandoned all hope and yes, I'm aware of how stupid I look."
In case you can't tell, it's a giant pancake that stands on the street corner, encouraging people to eat at IHOP. Umm, yeah. NO.
I can't imagine the grossness of this job as I think my body would physically turn inside out. Sweaty polyester that who knows how many people have worn. The person waves as if to say "I've abandoned all hope and yes, I'm aware of how stupid I look."
In case you can't tell, it's a giant pancake that stands on the street corner, encouraging people to eat at IHOP. Umm, yeah. NO.
01 September 2009
Fall is Here
And if I needed any proof, my Fall Preview TV guide was waiting for me in the mailbox today. It's my own personal "The telephone books are here! the telephone books are here!"
(Steve Martin "The Jerk")
Like a true kid of the 80's (-ish), I look forward to the Fall Preview every year. My life is simple.
The DVR is going to get a work-out, for sure. Ellen & Bonnie Hunt are going to be all new next week. I already record Craig Ferguson and surf the other late night shows, depending on the guests.
Add Bill Maher, Jon Stewart, and Stephen Colbert...and I'm considering recording Rachel Maddow. I never watch mainstream media news anymore even though I harbor a crush on Brian Williams.
I'm now addicted to Drop Dead Diva and Army Wives on Lifetime.
Right this very second, we're finishing the final two episodes of Rescue Me.
I just glimpsed an ad for So You Think You Can Dance and nearly clapped my hands in delight.
I'm looking forward to Brothers & Sisters too.
And is it bad that I was rooting for Izzy's death on Grey's Anatomy?
Oh, and Private Practice! WTF with the season finale and the crazy person stealing the baby. I don't care about the rest of the show but I Have To Know what happened there.
And LOST...need I say more?
Then there's The Mentalist & Castle...eye candy plus good shows.
Monday Nights on CBS is perfection as well. Big Bang Theory is one of the best comedies EVER.
It's going to feel odd not watching ER for the first time in what feels like my entire adult life. But I think Thursdays are going to be packed anyway.
I may have to use the trusty old VCR as a backup. And take a day off of work. And cancel any plans I may have scheduled, like Christmas.
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