Strange Things

New Home

2005-05-12T16:35:00.000-04:00

Strange Things will now be updating over here. Don't forget to change your bookmarks!

I spent a good portion of last night and today moving things over, so no post today. Sorry!

Culture Shock

2005-05-11T16:19:00.000-04:00

More background on me, the family and our trip to Russia and a story about how we were attacked by rabid fish can be found here.

***

To say things were a bit different in Russia than they were back at home in Jersey would be a gross understatement. Even the city we were in was unlike anything I'd seen back home. It was clean. Even when we were in Moscow, the subways were not only gorgeous-- think marble, gold plating, etc.-- they were spotlessly clean. They looked more like museums than public transport stations.

Even the vending machines in Moscow weren't like what we had. If you wanted a can of soda, you'd go to a kiosk and pay an exorbitant fee for a can. If you went to a vending machine, you paid a man, he rinsed and wiped clean a glass and stuck it under a spout at the vending machine. You'd then have a glass of soda. Yes, ick. But you should've seen the people line up.

There was a huge park in the center of the town I was staying in. The entire city was built like a bullseye. The park was huge and unmapped. I recall finding an amusement park there-- I have a story I'm saving for another time-- a pond, a ski lift-- very rickety, a total nightmare-- taking you up to a restaurant shaped like a man's head with an arm extended out, holding a torch, and a host of other little places. My favorite discovery was a cafe we found. None of the family had ever seen it before.

We'd found it by accident during one of our daily walks-- you walk everywhere there, something I'd be unused to. It looked almost like a church from the outside, all old stone and two story stained glass windows. But the windows depicted folk dancers from the region. I remember the first time I saw the place. I stood there, in awe, for at least five minutes.

The inside looked more like a night club minus the dancefloor. Rich red carpeting, tables scattered throughout, screens giving privacy to other tables on the left, a bar to the right, and music. For the first time since I'd been in Russia, I heard music with words I not only understood, but knew! British music was pumping through the speakers. I'd turned all Rain Man, spouting off information about the songs playing. My cousin, A, looked concerned until my father assure him that this was normal. For me anyway.

I found out that they weren't used to tipping there. The waitress thought that I'd overpaid her and when I told her it was a tip, she looked confused. I explained to her how the process worked and she thought the whole thing ridiculous. I snuck the tip under my saucer and hurriedly left.

When we weren't walking, we hitched rides. This is a normal custom over there. A random car stops, picks you up and takes you, at least part of the way, to your destination. You then give the driver some money for their trouble. People did this because cars were another luxury that many did not have. I don't think I knew of any two car households there. The lack of cars was probably a good thing considering how people drove. Traffic laws weren't followed.

My uncle explained the whole thing to me this way: After the fall of communism, most didn't know what to do. They didn't grasp the concept of democracy. Freedom, to them, meant no laws. All had become anarchy. The police weren't able to contain it and, after a while, stopped trying. Everything they had known was now gone. It was a scary time for them and, even after all that time, they were only just starting to tear down the statues of Lenin around town. The Russian mafia thrived during this time. They were completely ruthless and the only "police" that the people feared.

But back to driving. Lines on the road? Mere suggestion! Lights and stop signs? Ha! Speed limit? You're joking, right? Being in a car was rather like being in a video game. The other cars were asteroids coming directly at you at high speeds. It was a game of chicken unlike any you've ever seen. Throw in pedestrians and it was rather like Frogger. It was only when it was nearly time to leave that I didn't have about fifty heart attacks in a car.

Another disturbing thing was the lack of indoor plumbing in the houses out in the suburbs or rural areas. As a child, I was famous for holding it in rather than peeing anywhere but a normal toilet. This was rather like a nightmare for me. What was worse was the paper they expected one to wipe with. It was actual paper. It was a good thing I'd brought mini packs of tissues to carry along with me everywhere.

On the plus side-- I'm taking a wiiiiiide turnabout here-- was the food. Well, fruits and vegetables, in particular. They were amazing. Very flavorful and unlike anything I'd have before or since. I mainly subsisted on fruits and veg while there. I had stopped eating red meat earlier that year, so I didn't have to eat the rather unappetizing hunk of boiled meat with chunks of fat clinging to it. It was easier to eat the boiled chicken and fried fish. The fish was sometimes served for breakfast, but usually we had bread, butter, and caviar with tea or coffee. Caviar isn't expensive there. At least not the kind we had. It came in a tin like tuna and was cheaper than a can of soda.

Most of the food was bought at a bazaar, bakery, fishmonger, or butcher. Most bakers, fishmongers and butchers liked to be situated near the bazaar in order to sell their goods more quickly. But they also were more expensive than the others that were further away. The bazaar was rather like a massive flea market but with spices, fruits and vegetables for sale. I loved going to them-- and have a story about a trip to one for another time.

Most of my time, though, was spent with family. In particular, my cousin A's two children. We watched quite a lot of Mexican telenovelas and Duck Tales, both dubbed in Russian. I was able to understand the language better than I could speak it. To make myself understood, I spoke French. For some reason, this worked better than my attempts at Russian. The whole thing gave Den a migraine. That was an added bonus. By the end of my stay, I'd memorized the theme song to Duck Tales in Russian. Not that I knew what the hell I was saying, but I was told that my pronunciation was excellent.

***

Well, that's all I can remember. Stupid Blooooooger. Stay tuned for the address change.

Hell

2005-05-11T15:42:00.000-04:00

Well, Blogger ate another post and I can't fully recover it so I'm highly pissed off right now. I'm also pretty sure that I'm done with Blogger for good and will be looking for another host.

I'm tired of this.

Planes, trains, and automobiles..

2005-05-10T16:06:00.000-04:00

It was the summer just before my senior year in high school. I was 16. I figured that I had a nice long summer of doing nothing and hanging at friends' houses doing nothing. This didn't bother me as much this year because some of my friends now had licenses and cars. That meant roadtrips.

Things didn't turn out exactly as I planned. Out of the blue, my father casually asked me if I'd like to go to Russia. "Sure," I said, quite sure that it'd never happen but wishing it would. Russia would beat a trip to the beach any day. Nothing else was said about it for a few weeks. I laughingly mentioned the whole thing to my friends and they were sure it would never happen also. Then one night, my father told me that I needed to get my picture taken for the passport. There wasn't enough time, we'd have to rush order it.

I was surprised, to say the least. I got my picture taken. It was awful. Mounds of paperwork. Visas, tickets, etc. I barely had time to pack. I told my friends I was, indeed, going to Russia. They still didn't believe me. We had a sorta bon voyage party at my friend's house. They were still waiting for the whole thing to be cancelled. But it was actually happening.

It wasn't until we got to the airport and were waiting on line that I started to panic a bit. This was my very first time on an airplane. I wanted my mom to come along, but she refused. She won't ever go on a plane.

While waiting, I bought a crapload of magazines even though I brought a crapload of books with me to read. I even offered to buy my cousin-- who was also going on the trip, along with his mother who happened to be my father's twin sister-- some magazines or a book. He refused. He snottily informed me that he'd be watching the movie on the plane. I asked if he was sure that there would be a movie on the plane. He said he was. I shrugged and bought my magazines anyway. I get bored too easily, it was a long flight, blah blah blah. I stuffed them into my already bulging backpack-- my carry-on stuffed with cassettes and books-- and headed back to wait.

We finally boarded. I asked for the window seat by promising to give it up on the way back. My father and aunt went back into the smoking section. It was just me and my cousin, Den, and some guy stuck in the aisle seat. Den and I fought over the arm rest a bit, then settled down to listen to the flight attendant. She wasn't telling me anything I didn't already know, so I popped on my headphones and listened to some Chili Peppers. I could tell that Den was straining to hear what I was listening to, but I avoided telling him for as long as possible because once I did, there was a minor scuffle over my headphones. The guy next to Den already looked worried. I almost felt bad for the guy.

A voice came over the speakers saying that there was a minor delay and that we'd be the next ones out. Yeah, he said that again an hour later when I was watching the sun set and eating my "breakfast". It irked me that they were feeding me breakfast at night. I'm not a breakfast foods person. I ate my cereal dry, drank my tea, traded my milk for a juice, and tried to choke down some rubbery scrambled eggs. And I waited. About another half hour went by before we took off. I was already half way through my first magazine.

I was surprised to find that the takeoff didn't scare me. Maybe because I was too busy laughing at Den, who was practically peeing his pants. He took over the armrests and I think he might've prayed a bit. I mocked him a bit and watched out the window.

Not even fifteen minutes in the air and Den started whining at me for a magazine. I wouldn't give any up, reminding him that I offered to buy him some and he refused. I told him to watch his movie. He whined that there was no movie. I smirked-- my favorite pastime-- and asked him if he felt stupid now. He grumbled and flipped through the safety manual thingie.

We made several stops-- Nova Scotia and Ireland-- and some questionable meals-- there was a dare to try the smoked salmon, it tasted like burning tires and took several drinks to get rid of that god awful taste-- before landing in Moscow. I hadn't slept a wink during the entire 13 hour flight. I'd been far too excited and, hell, I had books and music. I very nearly begged to stay in Ireland-- so beautiful!-- but was eager to get to Moscow. Leaving the airport was a bit of a blur. We were met by another cousin, A, who got us through without stopping at customs.

A asked if we wanted a tour of Moscow after we dropped off our luggage. We were supposed to take a smaller plane to southern Russia, where my family lives, but that wound up not happening for some reason that I can no longer recall. Something about it not being safe. We were going to take a train at midnight.

We walked. Oh, god, how we walked. I hadn't slept in over 24 hours, so much of the city was a blur. I do recall standing in Red Square. I saw a bride and groom walk through with their wedding party. I took pictures. I wanted to see so many things. I was soooo tired. Eventually, we went to rest up a bit at the hotel. Den and I found the Russian version of MTV and watched until we passed out.

I remember being shaken. I woke up and had a crick in my neck from sleeping sitting up. The tv was still on, playing cheesy hair band music. I was told to get ready to go. I washed up and went out on the balcony. There I saw a sight I'll never forget: Red Square, directly across the street from me, all lit up. It was surreally beautiful. I just stood there and stared until we had to run.

We drove to the train station and got our tickets. I remember running from platform to platform, dragging along my luggage, still groggy from my nap. We hopped on the train and settled into our compartments. It was a tiny little room. Two benches, covered in naugahyde, facing each other. There was a window and a small table under it that folded up. I wondered where we'd put our luggage and discovered that the seats of the benches lifted up and were the perfect size for our bags. I was squeezed into the room with my aunt. I wasn't pleased. We'd never gotten along, even on the best of days. But I was excited enough about the whole trip to ignore her barbs and jabs.

Even the little dinky bathroom down the hall didn't depress me. The sink was small and metal, the tap a pipe jutting out of the wall. I won't even describe the toilet or the smell. I banged my head on the pipe while washing my face before bed. I nearly took out an eye while removing my contacts. I asked how long the trip would be by train and was a bit depressed to hear that it would take 3 days.

I made my way to my bench/bed. I made a pillow out of a jacket and pulled the blanket-- made for someone about 3' tall and in love with itchy materials-- up around my shoulders and was rocked to sleep by the train. That is until I was nearly thrown from my bench when the train made a stop. The only thing that saved me was the table that I caught with my face. Did I mention that they turned up the air conditioner full blast? I was swiftly turning blue. I dug through my luggage, in the dark, and threw on whatever warm clothing I could find by feel. Then I crawled back onto the bench and found a way to cling to the back of the bench so I wouldn't fly off it the next time the train stopped. That's when my aunt started to snore. Loudly. Eventually, I passed out from sheer exhaustion only to be woken up by the very same aunt early in the morning because she felt I was being lazy sleeping in. Because how dare I sleep in past 6:30 AM on my vacation. Yeah, you see why we didn't get along? 3 days of that.

By the end, I became a pro at putting in and taking out my contacts without a mirror and in a moving train. I also discovered that you really don't want to eat the food on Russian trains. You buy food at the stops and hurry back on. I also learned that I really disliked my cousin and aunt. A lot. And I got to spend a whole 6 weeks with them in Russia. But more on that later..

We finally got to our stop. I very nearly kissed the ground. It was an odd sensation walking on still ground after all of that rocking side to side on the train. That very slow train. I recall watching people run past us while we were on it. But we were finally at my family's apartment. I wanted nothing more than to shower, eat, then sleep. In that order. Alas, it wasn't meant to be. We were to see visitors who'd come to see us. I hadn't bathed in days, nor had I eaten a decent meal, and I had to talk to people I didn't know and didn't want to know. I nearly cried. And then I found out that we'd be staying in a different apartment than this one. Without my aunt. That cheered me up a bit.

Thankfully, the people left quickly, I was allowed to bathe and eat. We were taken to the apartment in which we'd be staying. I had the futon in the living room, my father got the short bed in the bedroom, my cousin got a cot in the hall. Now that's what I call karma.

Luck

2005-05-09T16:11:00.000-04:00

My family is very superstitious. Very. I grew up with tea leaves, coffee grounds, cards, and even bones being read. This was normal. For my family anyway.

When I started collecting various decks of tarot cards, no one blinked an eye. A few even bought me decks to add to my collection. It was even suggested that I wrap my cards in silk for protection. I was taught to read regular playing cards while I was in Russia. The woman who taught me had the same name as me, but I didn't know this at the time.

I met her when I'd gone into my cousin's kitchen for a glass of water. I was only introduced to her as my cousin's card reader. We shook hands, she looked me in the eye and said she would teach me to read cards. Now. Several people were gathered around to translate and I dutifully took notes. Later that day, I bought a deck of cards that I'd found particularly appealing and started. Unfortunately, that deck, along with my notes, and all of my other decks are all gone now.

Apparently, while I was in Russia, word got around that I was pretty darn good at "seeing" things. I'm not quite sure how that got around, really. All I know is that one day, after sitting around drinking tea, we passed our cups around and jokingly told each other's fortunes. I didn't know what the symbols meant, so I only told them the images I saw. Next thing I know, I'm being shuttled around from house to house and asked to find pictures in the shoulder blade of a lamb freshly killed to honor my visit.

Upon further reflection, my life is filled with a lot of these odd little moments. I never thought much of them at the time. I wonder why.

Anyway, superstition.. I always found that I had good luck on Friday the 13th. Likewise, black cats crossing my path never brought me harm. They usually signified something good coming my way. I never walked under a ladder just because it seemed like a stupid thing to do. Bad things always come in threes. I'd learned these from family members and on my own. The only one who disagreed with any of the above was my mom. Black cats were the worst luck, she always said.

We went for a walk the other day. Mom immediately spotted it. A black cat crossing the street in front of us. "Just what I need now," she said, looking a bit upset. I told her how they always brought me the best of luck. It made me optimistic about what was coming. She just shook her head and worried.

Today, I got a call about work. The training and orientation that had been delayed were back on this week. We chatted, things went well, everything was set up.

I talked to my mom at lunchtime and she told me that she'd gotten into an accident in the morning. How it had happened so fast and how things were looking grim. She blamed the cat. I told her that I needed to glue a horseshoe to her forehead because she'd drawn some seriously bad luck this year.

Even with the bad news, I can't help but feel optimistic. Maybe it's because the sun is shining and the sky is a cloudless blue. Maybe it's because of the newly sprouting and blooming plants everywhere I look. Maybe it's because deep down inside, I actually believe that we make our own luck good or bad. So much for superstition after all.

Happy Day!

2005-05-08T12:42:00.000-04:00

To all mothers past, present and future,

Happy Mother's Day!

With love,
R

A Stork of Genius

2005-05-08T12:39:00.000-04:00

My mother-- like many other mothers, I'm sure-- is rather fond of watching Lifetime movies. She has somehow wrangled my daughter into watching them. The problem with this-- besides the whole watching Lifetime movies thing-- is that my daughter has the attention span of a golden retriever on crack. She spends most of the movie asking questions about what she just talked over, not realizing that no one else heard a damn thing over her yammering. This has lead to the rule "Mouth shut, ears open". I should mention that my daughter isn't a follower of rules.

So after our Mother's Day breakfast, and Golden Girls, a Lifetime movie comes on. I groan, but suffer (mostly) silently. It's Mother's Day, after all. I'm forced to explain mental retardation to her because one of the lead characters is playing a mentally retarded woman. I also make sure to explain that it's only an actress playing a role because The Girl? Is quite literal at times.

The movie goes on and the grandmother dies of a stroke. This lead to this conversation..

The Girl: "Is she dead?"
Me: "Weren't you paying attention?"
The Girl: "But did she die?"
Mom: "If you would just stop talking long enough to hear what's going on.."
The Girl: "But is she dead? Wait.. They're taking her to the hospital...?"
Me: "They put the sheet over her head. They generally don't transport people that way.."
The Girl: "She's dead..? How'd she die?"
Mom: "You were just watching this.."
The Girl: "But how did she die?"
Me: "A stroke! The woman just said!"
The Girl: "What's a stroke?"
The Boy: "Duh! It's a big bird with a long beak and it can peck you!"
Me: "That's a stork!"
The Boy: ".....oh.."
Mom: "Hee! I was wondering what he was going on about.."
The Boy: "What's a stroke? It's not a bird?"
Me: "Not a bird.."
The Boy: "Are you sure?"
Me: "Very!"

I don't think he'll become a doctor..

If I could be...

2005-05-07T19:03:00.000-04:00

I got tagged by Michelle, so here goes..

The Rules: The idea is to pick 5 and complete the sentences,then pass this little meme on to 3 more of your blog pals! But no tag backs!

If I could be a scientist…
If I could be a farmer…
If I could be a musician…
If I could be a doctor…
If I could be a painter…
If I could be a gardener…
If I could be a missionary…
If I could be a chef…
If I could be an architect…
If I could be a linguist…
If I could be a psychologist…
If I could be a librarian…
If I could be an athlete…
If I could be a lawyer…
If I could be an inn-keeper…
If I could be a professor…
If I could be a writer…
If I could be a llama-rider…
If I could be a bonnie pirate…
If I could be an astronaut…
If I could be a world famous blogger…
If I could be a justice on any one court in the world…
If I could be married to any current famous political figure…

Still with me? Good. Now here's where I do my thing..

If I could be a scientist... I'd have a lab like Frankenstein's; all bubbly beakers and Tesla coils.
If I could be a musician... I'd be able to sing and play an instrument. Maybe. I totally have the rock star poses down.
If I could be a gardener... Then maybe my bamboo plant would've survived. They say they're virtually indestructible. Not so.
If I could be a llama-rider... I'd tell everyone that I was a llama-rider just to see their reaction.
If I could be a bonnie pirate... I'd be careful with the eye patch. Depth perception, you know..

And now for the tagging..

I'll tag Edana, Rory, and Ms.Q. Let me know in the comments when you get done!

Unexpected Reprieve

2005-05-06T13:54:00.000-04:00

Yesterday:

Mom: "You know what I was thinking? I'll sneak out of work early in the day tomorrow..."
Me: Thinking, "Did she just say she'd sneak out of work early..? Oooh.. Shopping?"
Mom: "...and I'll take you to renew your driver's license!"
Me: "You really were a geek in high school, weren't you?"
Mom: "...yeah."
Me: "Yeah.."
Mom: "But I was going to take you to the nice one so you don't have to wait 6 hours this time."
Me: "Almost as good as a sale."
Mom: "What?"

Today:

Me: "Why do we keep getting directions from mapquest when they always take us the long ass way everywhere?"
Mom: "I know. I'm sure we just circled around here."

A bit later..

Me: "D'oh! I totally know this street. I knew I recognized the name! We could've just gone through two towns instead of about fifty.."
Mom: "You know this area..?"
Me: "Yeah. You do, too."
Mom: "I do?"
Me: "Yes, you do."
Mom: "Ok.."

And even later...

Mom: "Wow! That didn't take long, did it?"
Me: "The longest part was getting here. I look somewhat psychotic in this picture.."
Mom: "At least your face isn't all skewed like the last time. And you have color!"
Me: "The whole thing is color.. It's like Monopoly money on a license. The guy? He took my picture and asked if it was ok."
Mom: "You're kidding!"
Me: "I swear! I'm so coming back to this one next time. I think they have a Most Unflattering Picture contest at the other DMV."
Mom: "They gave you warning and everything?"
Me: "Yeah, and I didn't even do my hair.. I thought, 'What's the use?'"
Mom: "I'm getting my license here."
Me: "I didn't even get insulted. Not once.."
Mom: "I'm so coming back here.."

Better late than never...

2005-05-05T16:26:00.000-04:00

Corgan requested this desktop long ago. I've only just gotten around to doing it.

Christina Ricci

Now let's see how long it takes him to notice it..

Grr..

2005-05-05T15:36:00.000-04:00

We here at Strange Things-- ok, it's just me here-- are suffering from what we call..

Technical Difficulties

Photobucket is being truly evil today. I'll post after it straightens itself out.

Intrigue! Horror!

2005-05-04T16:43:00.000-04:00

Yesterday..

Me: Is it just me or do you find the whole Katie Holmes/Tom Cruise pairing disturbing and awkward?
J: ...
J: no way
Me: You haven't seen them?! They're everywhere!!
J: i've been in meetings!
Me: Watching them kiss is about as exciting as licking the sidewalk.

And today...

Me: You wanna see something scary?
J: how scary?
Me: Very scary.
J: ewwww!!!!!
J: he gave her the herpes.
Me: I freaked.
J: so scary...did she know those were there?
J: did she?!?!
Me: How could she miss them?!
J: i think they were photoshopped.
Me: If your face cracked and oozed wouldn't you notice?
Me: Did you see the up close shot?!
J: i did...but it could have been photoshopped.
Me: No way. He herped Joey.
J: ew!!! it's herpes, dawson...the HERPES!
Me: That one sore is bigger than Van Der Beek's head.
Me: Why do I always want to call him Beeker?

Odd Happenings

2005-05-04T14:05:00.000-04:00

I planted a bleeding heart plant in our yard years ago. I watered and waited. It never grew.

I figured any number of things could've kept it from growing. Temperature, soil, maybe I bought a bum plant. Every year I'd go to that corner of the year in hopes of seeing my plant grow. Mom pointed out a sprout and said that it must be it. The sprout never grew, so I doubted her.

I went back again this year to look. There it was. Small, but growing. Little pink hearts. Hot pink. My daughter's favorite color. I giggled and clapped like a giddy child and called everyone over to look at it. The kids didn't see the big deal. It was just a plant. The Girl noted that the hearts were her favorite color and went to do something more interesting. My mom said, "See? It was growing this whole time. It was just slow."

On my way back inside, I passed our dwarf orange tree. It had been blooming and everytime I walked past it, I bent down to sniff its blossoms. This time, I noticed that something else was growing, too. I saw little tiny oranges starting to pop out. This was another first.

Once again, I dragged everyone over to marvel at our orange plant. The kids didn't know what the heck they were supposed to be looking at and why I kept dragging them away from fun stuff to look at boring old plants. Mom was as excited as I was about the little oranges. I turned to her and said, "Looks like this is the year for growth, huh?" and she said, "You're not kidding! In more ways than one.."

***

Last night, after we cleaned up the dinner dishes, mom noted that she'd saved aside the wishbone from the roasted chicken we'd had the night before. She wasn't sure if we should give it to the kids or not. I voted not because both were horribly competitive and were prone to fits upon "losing".

I suggested that we have a go at it. We locked out pinkies around the bone, I squeezed my eyes shut, made a wish and pulled. I heard a snap and opened my eyes in time to see the top of the wishbone pop clean off and land on the floor. I looked over to see my mother's stunned expression and we both looked at our pinkies, each still gripping part of the wishbone.

"What did you wish for?" mom asked. I told her and asked about her wish. It had been the same as mine. We both laughed over this and then mom said, "That was a pretty big eff you from the universe, wasn't it?"

The Good, The Bad, The Ugly

2005-05-03T16:33:00.000-04:00

The Good:

Louis XIV's The Best Little Secrets Are Kept- Neo Glam at its best. Rockin', ribald, roguish fun. Totally addictive. Definitely not for the kiddies. Highlights: "Finding Out True Love is Blind" and "Illegal Tender"
What Einstein Told His Cook: Kitchen Science Explained by Robert L. Wolke- If you're a science geek and a food geek like me, you'll love this book. It talks about the science behind food and has recipes, too!
M.I.A.'s Arular- Ok, how to describe this? Think cheerleaders, drumlines, dance hall music with a splash of electronica and you've got this album. It's really, really good.
Hogfather by Terry Pratchett- A favorite of mine that I'm reading for the fifty millionth time. A hilariously funny dark comedy.

The Bad:

My aching muscles. Damn you, weeds! Damn you to hell!
Studying. Boring.
I currently have the attention span of a gnat on speed.
So do my kids. And they're whiney.

The Ugly:

Saw some bitchy girls-- backstabbing wenches-- I knew way back when over the weekend. Noted large, plain clothing they wore to hide the massive amount of weight they gained-- karma in action-- after having one child. Was very pleased about this. I'm sure they saw me smirking as I walked by because they began their heated whispering-- flashback to high school.

Thoughts

2005-05-02T15:44:00.000-04:00

It is some unknown holiday or something? We didn't get mail today.
Why does it disturb me so much that we didn't get mail today? I can't stop haunting the mailbox.
Weeding the garden + walking a lot + lifting weights = a very sore, whimpery R.
I never knew that the words "Hey, mom. You did remember to bake something for my birthday party at school, right?" could strike so much fear in a grown woman's heart.
Particularly when it's uttered at 9:30 PM on Sunday night.
And I have no ingredients to bake anything.
More supermarkets should be open at least until midnight.
My kids are probably the only kids in the world who can tell the difference between homemade brownies and the box kind. Did I let that stop me? No.
Ditto on the canned frosting.
Staying up until 1 AM baking and frosting brownies while watching Sixteen Candles seems like a lot more fun than it really is.
Jake Ryan is still yummy.
Still no mail. Why?!
Why does staying up late make me feel hungover? Am I that old? Don't answer that!
The picture of that guy on J's blog makes me giggle.
I need a nap.

Birthday Boy

2005-05-01T14:51:00.000-04:00

The Birthday Breakfast Extravaganza was a success because:

This french toast recipe is the best.

And I made my killer strawberry sauce recipe.

There were many yummy noises being made. The strawberry sauce is unbelievably simple to make too!

For every cup of fresh sliced strawberries, use 1 tablespoon strawberry jam-- other berry flavors work just as well so experiment-- and 1 tablespoon sugar. Heat it all up until sugar and jam melt and strawberries soften slightly, about 5-10 minutes. Serve over ice cream, cakes, waffles, pancakes, whatever!

The Boy was happy to receive his presents and took off. He spent some quality time with his Game Boy until I wrenched him away and made him play outside. Unfortunately, we couldn't do the birthday party thing this year. Not with the way things have been at home. But he's quite happy to be getting Burger King for dinner and an ice cream cake for dessert. Both his choice.

I went ahead and ordered Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events (2-disc Special Collector's Edition)-- try saying that five times fast-- since it was so cheap over at amazon. While there, I also ordered a yoga book for the girl. She's become very gung ho and addicted to it. I think she'll be happy with it. I wish I'd ordered it sooner so it could be here for today. When you have two kids, you always need to get something for the other even thought it's not their birthday. Jealousy. I bought her a little trinket, but it didn't seem like enough. Not compared to all of what he got. I can only hope it comes soon.

Now off I go! More birthday celebrating must be done!

Myth Busting

2005-04-30T20:17:00.000-04:00

Evil J likes to torture me. I was telling him how Regina Spektor wrongly sings about how hair grows even after we die in her song Ghosts of the Corporate Future. The lyrics are as follows..

Maybe you should cut your own hair
'Cause that can be so funny
It doesn't cost any money
And it always grows back
Hair grows even after you're dead

Not true!

Hair doesn't grow after you die. It can't. Dead is dead. That means no life.

Then why do hair and nails appear longer?

Good question. They appear longer because the skin around the hair and nails lose water, shrink, and retract. No growth, just shrinkage. And here's the proof!

They don't call me Wonder Killer for nothin'..

Graaaarrrrgh!

2005-04-30T20:06:00.000-04:00

Can I just tell you how much I hate spring break?

I love my kids. Really. I do. Quite a lot. But being stuck with them for a whole week should be considered a form of torture. Cruel and unusual torture. I was considering writing to Amnesty international for help.

There was whining, complaining, yelling, tears, puking, and stomping. And that was just me. They were much worse.

Much, much worse.

Thank god spring break's almost over. Do you think I can fetch much for them on ebay? Maybe I can send them to bad, bad people who need punishing. Or I could send them off to kids who think they want kids. My kids are the ultimate in birth control.

Stay tuned: Tomorrow's The Boy's 9th birthday. Pity me. And send lots of alcohol.

Born On a Rotten Day

2005-04-29T17:37:00.000-04:00

I took a stroll down to my local library today. I practically live in libraries. I should've gone for a library science degree. I saw this one little book that piqued my interest.

Yes, I'm somewhat addicted to astrology. That is my shameful secret. Not that I believe what I read. I take it all with a huge grain of salt. I just find it interesting. And sometimes-- like with this book-- the similarities are eerie.

I'm a Libra. The only sign of the zodiac that isn't a living thing. I'm represented by scales. So unfair. And ironic considering I spent most of my life battling the scales in one way or another. Here are some tidbits from the book that I feel totally describe me:

Favorite Pastime: Smirking.
Favorite Book: How to Marry Yourself.
Dream Job: Devil's advocate.
Key Phrase: "On the other hand.."

Your sole purpose in life is to be right all the time, and you constantly change your mind in order to ensure that fact..

You are a font of useless minutae, forever analyzing your problems, like a cow chomping its cud..

You don't want a partner; you want a clone..

However, you are also capable of pursuing a goal with a singleminded determination that borders on obsession..

You believe in living in the moment versus planning an uncertain future..

Scarily enough, all are true about me. I've even said those very things about myself before. So I looked up the kids.

The Boy is a Taurus. About my little Raging Bull..

With practice, you can spot an imminent charge. His or her face darkens visibly as the temper rises. The eyes veil, the jaw juts, or sets, ever so slightly. Some unconsciously lower the head a bit and look up at you as a real bull does before it charges. Depending on how self-controlled yours is, you have from one second to a few minutes to brace yourself.

Taurus is the laziest sign in the zodiac..

That's him alright.

Now The Girl, on the other hand, is a Gemini...

Gemini is headstrong, not independent. They skim through life. Twins demand freedom, but it's the freedom of a teenager. They are too busy rebelling to listen to any other point of view. Being born without the objective-assessment gene has voided the ability to see any other opinion but theirs as valid. Argue with one, and suffer an interrogation that could make a trained spy crumble. Win your case, and Gemini will say, "That's just what I was trying to tell you."

Is it any wonder that I'm not completely sane?

Not that I ever was completely sane..

Yet Another Meme

2005-04-28T17:43:00.000-04:00

Stole this meme from Ms.Q.

1) My uncle once: taught me how to swim in a baptism gone wrong. Ok, not really. He threw me into the pool and was shocked that my skinny little body went through the hole in the inner tube. But I did learn to swim that day.

2) Never in my life: have I ever liked bananas.

3) When I was five: I thought Willy Wonka was my dream man.

4) High School was: interesting to say the least.

5) I will never forget: the moment I first held my babies.

6) I once met: these guys who looked and sounded just like Ren and Stimpy.

7) There’s this girl I know who: works at this club in the city and always told me about her celeb sightings.

8) Once, at a bar: I put a guy in an arm lock for getting too friendly with me.

9) By noon I’m usually: fixing lunch.

10) Last night: I totally got checked out while I was all icky sweaty and out walking.

11) If I only had: an ipod. I need a friggin ipod!

12) Next time I go to church: I will wonder what I'm doing there. I'm not the mass religion type.

13) Terry Schiavo: is gone. Let the woman rest in peace.

14) What worries me most: is my kids.

15) When I turn my head left, I see: the livingroom closet.

16) When I turn my head right, I see: the sky turning threateningly dark out my window.

17) You know I’m lying when: I tell you I'm lying.

18) What I miss most about the eighties: I miss the kickin' music.

19) If I was a character written by Shakespeare, I’d be: Beatrice.

20) By this time next year: I will be another year older.

21) A better name for me would be: Wonder Killer.

22) I have a hard time understanding: jealousy.

23) If I ever go back to school I’ll: actually finish this time?

24) You know I like you if: I tease the hell out of you.

25) If I won an award, the first person I’d thank would be: my mom.

26) Darwin, Mozart, Slim Pickens & Geraldine Ferraro: had unfortunate hair.

27) Take my advice, never: settle for less. You're worth it.

28) My ideal breakfast is: belguim waffles with strawberries and cream.

29) A song I love, but do not have is: Heroes by David Bowie.

30) If you visit my hometown, I suggest: not blinking. It's small

31) Tulips, character flaws, microchips & track stars: are fascinating.

32) Why won’t people: use their brains more?

33) If you spend the night at my house: you'll never see the bathroom.

34) I’d stop my wedding for: anything. Hi, commitment-phobe here!

35) The world could do without: ignorance.

36) I’d rather lick the belly of a cockroach than: deal with a chauvinist.

37) My favorite blonde is: my little girl.

38) Paper clips are more useful than: spam.

39) If I do anything well, it’s: confusing the hell out of everyone.

40) And by the way: this was much harder than I expected.

Quitters Guide

2005-04-28T16:51:00.000-04:00

I thought that since there were so many ex-smokers out there, that it'd be nice to compile a list of tips that helped you get and keep smoke-free. That way, should there be any wannabe quitters out there, they'd have their handy-dandy list to help them along.

I'll list mine:

I'm not much of a joiner, but signing up at quitnet.com really helped me out in the beginning. I found a ton of tips and supportive people there.
Gum. Lots of gum.
Candy, too. I still have a jar of lollipops on my desk.
Water. Oceans of the stuff. You'll be too busy peeing to even bother smoking.
Straws. I cut straws down to cigarette size and twiddled them whenever I needed to keep my hands busy. I even sucked on them a few times. It helped.
Fiber. I got so constipated-- tmi, I know-- during the first week. I wanted to die.
A buddy. I really needed one during that first week. I hated everyone, was constantly dizzy, couldn't shit, and everything smelled bad-- another weird side effect-- and needed someone to bitch to. It helped that the buddy was going through the same hell as I was.
Vitamin C. Smokers don't get enough of that vitamin in their diet. Stock up on it, any excess will leave the body through urine anyway.
Get rid of everything! When you quit, shred your smokes, toss the ashtrays, get rid of lighters and matches. You don't need the temptation. I've shamefully dug through the trash hoping to find just one-- or even part of one-- cigarette. That's why you need to shred 'em good. Then dump something nasty on top of the mess. Something you couldn't be desperate enough to root through.
Exercise. It'll keep you busy and keep you from gaining weight. Or find a hobby. Anything to keep you occupied.

What worked for you?

Time Travel

2005-04-27T16:22:00.000-04:00

Yesterday went too fast, today is moving in slow motion. I could've sworn it was several hours later than it actually is. Maybe I'm in a hurry to see Lost tonight. I'm horribly addicted to that show.

That's not the only thing I'm happy about today! Yesterday, I had someone return some sweaters I'd bought whilst in panic mode prior to my interview. Once I'd gotten them home and tried them on, I realized I didn't actually much like them. They looked ok-- the cardigan was kinda cute-- but they weren't me at all. The person I gave them to (to return to the store) said she could return them for me as it was on her way. When she came over to give me my money, she realized that I'd been shorted $10. Needless to say, she felt awful about the whole thing even though I assured her it was alright. She called today to say that she couldn't rest (the missing money haunted her-- silly isn't she?) and she called the store to hunt down the missing money and was victorious in finding it. So-- yay!-- money back.

Money that will probably go towards purchasing a copy of Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events, preferably the 2-disc Special Collector's Edition. I'm a collector's edition whore.

I also completely forgot that yesterday was also my 1-year quit anniversary. I quit smoking a year ago yesterday. Amazingly enough-- with all of the bullshit that happened so soon afterwards-- I stayed quit. Yay me again!

Oh, yeah, and also a redesign. This will do until I get bored-- or find time to be bored and work on a new design/color scheme-- and change it again.

It's that late already?

2005-04-26T17:20:00.000-04:00

The day really flies by when you're fried..

Last night, out of the blue, The Girl started puking. Then came the diarrhea. This, of course, signals the beginning of spring break. Or any vacation the kids get, really. That poor girl has the worst luck. I still remember the time she caught a similar bug and missed the field trip to the circus. She cried and cried, then puked, cried a bit more, etc.

She's much better today. These bugs usually only last 24 hours for her. A miserable 24 hours in which I can't give her anything because nothing will stay down-- or in ( ick, I know)-- her. But today she managed some food. She's on her way to recovery. Or she'll be evil and relapse. That's happened before, too.

I woke up with the worst headache. Probably because I got no real sleep last night. All of that half-dozing while keeping an ear tuned in to The Girl. Then my allergies got all evil and I sneezed until my nose fell off. Ok, it didn't fall off. But it did want to defect. I think it's petitioning to seek asylum on someone else's face. Perhaps someone cuter and with less allergies.

In order to appease my tempermental nose, I popped an allergy pill. When that didn't work, I added several inhalers and some nose spray into the mix. I even sought to soothe its raw skin with lotion. It's staying put for now, but it's grumbling about it.

The Boy is disgusted with the both of us. He's stayed outdoors for most of the day. This is a very shocking and rare situation since usually I can only get him outdoors via threat or bribery. He is not at one with nature. But neither am I.

I think nature's pretty an' all but there's bugs and stuff out there. I never understood the appeal of camping. Speaking of which, I once threatened The Boy with a camping trip-- it would've been punishment for me too-- if he didn't help us bring groceries indoors. It worked remarkably well. I try not to use it often. It's more effective this way.

Can you tell that I'm fuzzy-brained? I haven't been able to focus on anything today. I've been trying to come up with a redesign-- or even an idea for one-- for days now. All to no avail. I've also been meaning to clean out the closets. Yeah, that's not happening either. Have you seen my closets? I wish I hadn't.

Who?

2005-04-25T14:47:00.000-04:00

The kids are playing Guess Who? and The Girl keeps winning. This is not going well with The Boy. Not at all. He hates to lose. The Girl was trying to comfort him with...

The Girl: "It's ok, (The Boy). I think I'm a sidekick or something.."

Me: "A what?"

The Girl: "A sidekick. It's like I know who it is and I'm not cheating or nothing!"

Me: "Anything. Not nothing."

The Girl: "Anything. It's like the answer just came to me!"

Me: "So you think you're a sidekick because of that..?"

The Girl: "Uh huh!"

Me: "Not psychic. A sidekick."

The Girl: "Uh huh. Sidekick."

Me: "Ok."

The Boy: "I still think she's cheating."

Picture-y Goodness

2005-04-25T14:29:00.000-04:00

A lame cop-out, I know. But I'm tired, people! I've got kids home for spring break. I'm running myself ragged trying to wear them out. So, in lieu of an actual post, you can stare at my cat. And the humiliating pictures I take of him.

Well, he acts as if I'm humiliating him..

Don't you love the look of utter contempt?

He seems to be saying, "I'll cut you!" The little thug.

He pouts. Often.

He knows he's cute.

This is why I follow him around like a demented paparazzo. If I really want to annoy him, I sing while I snap pictures.

The Interview

2005-04-24T15:38:00.000-04:00

Well, the second interview. I was a bundle of nerves this time. I was ready really early, there too early, pacing around, trying to calm down. I met with S (the department manager I'd run into yesterday who called me back today). She said that when she saw me with my kids after the first interview, she knew she wanted me in her department. Yay kids!

We discussed all of my (future) duties, salary (she's asking them to pay me more than they usually pay recent hires-- again, yay kids!), everything. I'll be starting in a few weeks. I still have more forms to fill out. I'm not sure if I'll die from the cramps in my hands, the paper cuts, or if I'll be found burried underneath the most recent stack.. And I think I'll get even more forms at training. But the discount isn't too shabby-- 20%-- and my (future) manager is going out of her way to work with my schedule, so I'll suffer a few papercuts and hand cramps.

I really like S so far. She seems to be a genuinely nice person and has a sense of humor-- unlike previous blah interviewer. Speaking of previous blah interviewer, I still don't know exactly what she does. The woman I talked to on the phone-- I really hit it off with her-- was the store manager, so I think Blah was an underling. I'll find out eventually.

Bloat update: Getting better every day. Was able to zip up previously unzippable pants. Yay!

Update

2005-04-23T19:42:00.000-04:00

I went in for my interview today. I was told to fill out more forms and wait. So I filled out the forms and I waited. And waited. And then waited some more. I grew a little frustrated when nearly a half hour had passed and the woman hadn't returned. Finally she did.

We sat and chatted. She asked questions, I answered them with whatever charm and wit I could muster. Just my luck, I got someone without a sense of humor. She sounded as if she were reciting from a script. She probably was. I admired her funky little glasses, but couldn't help but notice the eyebrows. The overgrown eyebrows. I tried not to stare. Then she hit me with, "The manager isn't here today to do your interview. You'll get a call back for a second interview. If no one calls within two weeks, you can return and apply for another position."

I very nearly groaned out loud. Instead, I smiled, shook hands and made my way out. As I made my way out of the store, I ran into a lady I chatted with a bit while I was doing all that waiting. Turns out her department will be needing a replacement in a few weeks. And she was looking for someone who wanted to work the hours I was working. We chatted some more.

Guess who has her second interview tomorrow?

More Letters

2005-04-22T15:06:00.000-04:00

Dear Bloat,

This is so not funny. Do you realize I have an interview tomorrow? I cannot go pantsless. You do realize this, don't you? I even tried to walk through massive cramps yesterday because of the bargain we made. When I said that I wanted to be able to zip up a pair of pants, I kinda sorta meant that I'd also like to be able to sit down in them. Why do you hate me?

You're a cruel and terrible master.

Your whipped little puppy,
R

Dear Stephenie,

I used to hate you. Really. That first day when you stupidly jumped off the boat and thought you could beat it to shore. You swimming vs. a boat. Stupid.

But I don't hate you anymore. In fact, I'm almost smitten with you-- in a non-sexual, totally platonic way. You've kicked so much ass. I totally respect that. I so want you to win. This, of course, means you won't. I'm sorry. They're so gunning for you.

Rooting for you,
R

Dear Katie,

I don't like you. At all.

In fact, I kinda hate you.

Also, how is it that you're the only one with some pudge still? I don't get that.

Hating you,
R

Dear Janu,

You're weird, lazy, and a bit whiney. But, on you, it works. Go figure.

Thanks for quitting so Stephenie could stay. You rock!

Admiringly yours,
R

Dear Gregg,

Shut up.

Also, your dead eyes and sharp, pointy little teeth disturb me. A lot.

Not liking you,
R

Dear Tea,

Ohmygod!!! You are so good!

Orgasmically yours,
R

Wow

2005-04-22T14:31:00.000-04:00

Talk about speedy service. I already got my tea from Adagio Teas for linking to them. Yes, I linked to them yesterday and got my tea today. I'm very impressed.

I got a lovely 4 oz tin of Ceylon Sonata. There's really quite a lot of tea in the 4 oz tin. It would even take a tea-aholic like me quite some time to sip my way through all of it. It smells heavenly, too. My mouth is actually watering. I can't wait to try it.

The tin is very cute and I'm sure I'll find some use for it once the tea is gone. Also, with the tea tin, I received an instruction leaflet, some tea bags, and a handwritten note thanking me for the link. Isn't that lovely?

Mmmm..

2005-04-21T14:39:00.000-04:00

I saw this nifty lil link for Adagio (heavenly) tea over at Louise's blog and couldn't resist. I'm such a tea whore. And I'm not even ashamed about it.

Seriously, though, if you really love tea-- as I do-- you'll want to try Adagio's teas. Yes, it's a bit more pricey than "regular" tea, but it's bloody marvelous stuff. But if you drink Lipton, or some other similar swill, then this isn't for you. And ew. Really. Lipton? Why? It should be illegal to call that stuff "tea".

Yes, yes. I know. I'm a snob. But I already told you that over in my profile to the right.

Yay!

2005-04-21T14:07:00.000-04:00

I feel like I'll burst if I don't get this out. I'm pretty darn excited.

Emails have been swapped. Today, I got a phone call. There's still the formality of an interview on Saturday, but the phone call went so well that I'm pretty sure I've got it. Granted, it's not a salon job. It's nothing exciting. It's simple retail sales. But I'm still pretty darn excited about it. After all, I'll be working in my very own Disneyland. Hopefully, all of my money won't go to my very own Disneyland. I get all too "Oooh shiny!" when I'm there and the thought of a discount makes me feel faint.

And I really hope I can find a decent pair of pants to fit over my bloated belly for this interview. Damn you, PMS!! Damn you! At least the zits are going down.

Keep your fingers crossed for me!

More Dream Weirdness

2005-04-20T16:40:00.000-04:00

I couldn't sleep last night. I've been wound up tight lately. Can't sleep until I pass out from exhaustion. I was tempted to get up, get dressed and go out for a run or something, but it was 3 in the morning and I'm not crazy or stupid.

Well, not usually.

When I finally grew sleepy enough to close my eyes and try to sleep, all I kept seeing was an all black room with no light source and this..

Just a quick, general sketch

...floating towards me and never getting closer. I'd see intricate details, but she never got closer to me. The only thing that really disturbed me about her was how her head hung-- like her neck had been snapped-- to the side.

Yes, those are stitches on the sides of the mouth

I just wish I could've done it justice. But there was too much to draw. So many details. She had such a bony, emaciated frame, her skin the color of bone, the arms and legs longer than they should be, and these ghostly, snakey tendrils flowing from her. Kind of like a jellyfish.

It's a wonder I ever get any sleep..

Super Genius

2005-04-19T17:18:00.000-04:00

Have you ever considered what cartoon character you and those around you most closely resemble? Either looks-wise or personality-wise? So it's just me then?

I've always compared myself to Wile E. Coyote (Super Genius). We both love scheming, plotting, and planning; our best laid plans often blow up in our faces; and we both often get injured in the course of our duties. But don't you love our enthusiasm? And don't you hate that bleeping Road Runner with his smug little "meep meep"s? I know I do.

I once had an ex who was rather like Pepé Le Pew. Which made me the poor cat who's always trying desperately to get away. Yeah, that didn't work out. Too clingy and overly amorous.

The Boy, at times, reminds me of Taz. He's a whirling dervish, a blur in motion, always moving and never still. And can that boy eat! I should sign him up for some eating contests.. Other times he's more like Daffy with the bad luck and temper.

The Girl reminds me a lot of Bugs Bunny. That girl has a fool's luck-- which, oddly enough, is what my mom used to say I had. She's also a smart ass (also inherited from me). Her quick wit and charm have gotten her out of quite a few scrapes.

The doctor who delivered my kids reminded me of Cecil Turtle. A lot. Looked just like him. Moved like him. It was eerie. The resemblance was most striking when he wore his green scrubs. I kept giggling. While I was in labor.

The comparisons aren't only limited to Looney Tunes characters, I've also known Eeyores and even met a real life Shaggy. Seriously. He looked, dressed, talked and acted just like Shaggy. It bordered on scary.

So, tell me: Which cartoon character are you most like and why?

Silent Protest(s)

2005-04-18T17:49:00.000-04:00

Last night...

Me: "Mom?"

Mom: "Yeah?"

Me: "Have we been sitting here, in the kitching, in silent protest of the new tv he bought and put in the living room?"

Mom: "Hee! Yeah, I guess we have.."

Me: "Good to know that my back ache is all for a good cause.."

Mom: "These chairs aren't comfortable, are they?"

Me: "Well, I guess they're comfortable for 22 year old chairs.."

Mom: "They're not that old!"

Me: "They are. You know, they say the memory is the first thing to go."

Mom: "If only.."

Me: "What are we doing for dinner tomorrow?"

Mom: "Spaghetti!"

Me: "Another silent protest?"

Mom: "Oh yeah.."

Me: "It's a good thing I like protesting. And spaghetti."

Nerves

2005-04-18T16:25:00.000-04:00

I'm not sure if it's all PMS or what, but my nerves are fried. It happened rather suddenly. Many little things adding up...

My face? Freaked the hell out. Just call me Zitty Galore.
I gained 5 pounds overnight. Yes, overnight. Even with all of the walking. See me pouting?
Last night's episode of Arrested Development was the season finale. I totally didn't expect that. And it might be the last one. See me pouting even more?
I'm studying and studying but wonder if I'm actually remembering things or will remember them once testing time comes. This, of course, brings about a lovely panic attack.
It'd actually be nice to know when I go for my testing.
Why do I keep trying to sew when I know I can't? This doesn't soothe frayed nerves.

I need chocolate. It's a good thing I made a huge brownie ice cream sundae cake. Sure, I'll gain more weight, but I'll be happy about it.

Spring Cleaning Continued

2005-04-17T17:00:00.000-04:00

I've inhaled more dust than can possibly be measured. I've been hacking like a cat with a hairball. My eyes and nose are red. I look gorgeous. Simply gorgeous.

You'll soon be seeing models cultivating this look. They'll call it Allergy Chic. People will buy special pencils to draw on little red capillaries on the sides of their noses. Eyes will be lined with red liner. People will carry atomizers to spray their eyes just to get that teary, sneeezy look.

I am starting a trend. I am such a rockstar.

My frizzy, flyaway hair? It will be much coveted. The sprinklings of dust and assorted fuzzies-- god knows where those came from-- are mini accessories. Almost like stars in a night sky. Except dusty and fuzzy and not sparkly at all. This scrunchy I used to pull back my hair? Not at all early '90s. It's so trendy it hurts.

I'm so cool. I should be worshipped.

We won't even get into my dry hands and ragged nails. Nor the chipped polish or the wrecked cuticles. I know, I know.. It's too much to take. Forget the beauty of a sunset when there's me around. I'm simply breathtaking.

Don't hate me because I'm beautiful.

Or hacked in your face. Sorry about that.

Huh? Wha?

2005-04-16T17:42:00.000-04:00

The Boy and The Girl have been playing pen pals with my mom's boss. My mom's boss is an old friend of the family. I've known him since I was their age, so he's especially excited about me having kids. The Girl was reading us his latest letter when we had this misunderstanding...

The Girl: "Umm.. Mom? What's a 'vuh-ringe-a'?"

Me: "A what?"

The Girl: "A 'vuh-ringe-a'.."

Me: "Do you mean veranda?"

The Girl: "I dunno. He left his cat in a 'vuh-ringe-a'.."

Mom: "Uh.. Do you think she means a.. Umm.. Uh..."

Me: "What?"

Mom: "A...you know.."

Me: "Why would he leave his cat in a veranda? It can't be that.."

Mom: "A you know.. A girl part!"

Me: "Why would he leave his cat in a vagina?"

Mom: "SHHH!!"

Me: "Let me see that letter."

The Girl hands it over and I read...

Me: "Virginia? You don't know Virginia? It's a friggin state!"

The Girl: "Ooooooooh.."

Mom: "Oh, thank god!"

Me: "You're a sicko, mom."

***

Today, while walking...

The Girl: "Well, since The Boy doesn't seem very tired, maybe we should make him lawn the mow."

Mom: "What?"

Me: "Hee! 'Lawn the mow'."

The Girl: "Mow the lawn! Mow the lawn!!"

Me: "Too late. You'll never live this down. Now let's street the cross."

The Girl: "Ha ha.."

Despair

2005-04-15T16:48:00.000-04:00

I had some spare time and I whipped this one up pretty quickly. Not my best, but whatever.

This time I used some filters. I sharpened the lines so they'd look a little rough and I blurred the white parts to make it look a bit doughy. It just made sense to do it that way. To me, despair is soft enough to sink deep down into and get trapped in, but has those jagged edges that scratch and hurt.

Double Feature

2005-04-15T15:40:00.000-04:00

I had some weird little dreams last night. That isn't the strange part, though, because my dreams are usually weird. I'm used to that. I'm even used to seeing the odd celeb in my dream. But sometimes I see someone unexpected in my dream and it throws me. Not the dream me, the awake me.

The first dream: We're going on a road trip. I'm not sure where we are, but it's either near the beach or dessert. There's sand everywhere. I then realize we're near a beach because I can smell salt water and I see cars, trucks and jeeps with a variety of beach gear loaded on or in them. I'm sitting in the passenger seat, feet up on the dash, eyes closed, listening to Regina Spektor play. The windows are open and the wind is whipping my hair around. I feel warm and happy.

We stop at a large gas station. I know we're not in Jersey, because it's a self-serve station. Mom pumps gas and I clean the windows because a fine dust has settled all over the car. I squeegee the window and laugh when I see the kids making funny faces at me from inside the car. Behind our car, another car pulls up. Out steps Cameron Diaz. (Yeah, I...don't know..) She pumps her own gas and cleans her windows, too. We make some small talk. Then this guy on the other side starts harassing her. He's being totally obnoxious about it too and it annoys me 'cause she was really nice.

Cameron doesn't let the guy get to her in the least. She's funny and cracks jokes and winds up annoying the guy even more. I join in on the joking and we all have a good laugh. Then it's time for me to go. Cameron-- maybe I should call her Cam?-- and I exchange numbers. Then I wake up wondering where I've left the slip of paper with the numbers on them.

The second dream: I'm walking around town. No real purpose, just a casual stroll. That's when I notice a salon with a Help Wanted sign. I hesitate about going in because I'm sure I won't get the job. So many shops have closed down and the ones looking want licenses and sometimes want a stylist with a clientele. I'm standing outside of the shop, looking in the window. It's a cute little salon. Not overly done. Cute and unpretentious. That's when I notice S-- the manager/phone wrangler at my previous salon-- standing inside, chatting on the phone. She waves excitedly at me and tries to draw me in. I shake my head and think about leaving. She runs out to me and tells me to talk to the owner, she'll put in a good word for me.

Just when S has about convinced me to go in, my old boss, G, comes running out. She's excitedly yammering about getting the job. I get really angry and ask G why the hell she needed to take that job that she didn't need. She was retired and I really wanted it. G said how she couldn't stand staying at home any longer, she needed to keep busy. This only made me angrier. I told her that if she hadn't gone around stealing other people's clients that she'd still probably have a salon to call her own. That she needed to take responsibility for her own actions and suffer the consequences. The last thing I remember, before waking up, was marching in the salon to talk with the owner. I was going to get that job.

Is it sad that I still fume when I see my ex-boss? Even if I only see her in a dream? And I still can't explain the Cameron Diaz thing. That was so off the wall. I don't know what made me dream of her.

Night and Day

2005-04-14T16:28:00.000-04:00

My kids. I joke about how if you mushed them together, you'd get me. They're undeniably my kids, they have a lot of my odd traits. But what traits of mine they have inherited are amplified and slightly distorted. It's like holding a magnifying glass up to various parts of me. It's a truly bizarre experience for a parent to notice these things.

The Boy: The Boy inherited my dark, thick, unruly hair, my habit of raising one eyebrow, my nose, my chubby cheeks and my mouth. He was always a bit too serious. A bit too intense. Even as a baby, he seemed vaguely brooding. But he was always well behaved. Conversely enough, he was a cheerful baby. Didn't complain much-- unless I was slow with his food. He never shows much emotion, preferring to keep his feelings hidden (much like I do). He has my long hands and feet. He always stuck to a schedule, is fond of quoting rules, and is very literal. He'll, from time to time, bend-- or outright squash beyond all recognition-- a rule if it doesn't fit in with his plans. He likes to keep lists. He cannot be rushed. He's slow and steady, but picks up speed until he bowls you over. I've compared him to a steam roller many times and others say that that description is apt. He can eat anyone under the table and is as skinny as a rail (unlike his mother). He is also a junkfood junkie and would eat it constantly if I allowed it. He loves pretty things, can save money like no other, draws well, and will notice the tiniest of details. He is also capable of making the most amazing messes, is quite the mercenary, used to draw on the walls, and hasn't been able to find things RIGHT IN FRONT OF HIS FACE. He is both intuitive and oblivious ( just like his mother). He is prone to laziness, is very sensitive and empathetic, and has a nasty temper. And, still, he's amazingly gentle and loves babies.

The Girl:The Girl inherited my almond-shaped eyes, chubby cheeks, obsession with hair, makeup and shoes and light-hearted nature. She, too, has my long hands and feet and my clumsy streak (but to a far stronger degree than any of the rest of us). She was the difficult baby. Terribly unpredictable. I never knew what to expect. She looked like a tiny fairy child and burped like a sailor. She inherited my allergies. She's still unpredictable. A whirlwind. Mercurial. And an artiste through and through. She lives and breathes art. She loves to write, draw, sing and dance (even if she keeps falling down). She can talk to anyone about anything and charm the hell out of them while she infuriates them. She's so stubborn, bull-headedly so. Even when she knows she's wrong, she won't back down. She loves animals more than people and will cry for days over an injured bird. She loves to take care of people. She's my little revolutionary, my rebel, the one who will change the world. She can never hold onto money because there are so many pretty trinkets she has to have NOW. She's somewhat vain and likes to stare at herself in the mirror. She will do this for hours if you don't stop her. She is also incredibly brave. She didn't even whimper when getting her ears pierced. But she also tried to beat up the nurse who gave her a needle. Even when I was practically laying down on top of her, pinning her arms while the nurse pinned her legs. She's my scrappy little fighter. She's also most likely to become a vegetarian. Ask her and she'll tell you her favorite food is broccoli. And she's not lying. She's whipsmart. They couldn't even pinpoint her IQ at age five. It was high. They considered putting her in an advanced grade, but were unsure of her emotional maturity. She was a little hellion that year. She even got suspended. In first grade. But she's also the hardest little worker I've ever known. She never complains about doing the work either.

Me: Somewhere between the two. And flummoxed. Also, saving up bail money for the little revolutionary.

Smoking Fingers

2005-04-13T16:44:00.000-04:00

I'm the type of person who keeps things bottled up, lets them build up, and then I need to let the explode. I was notorious for my explosions. I've since learned to keep my cool and rant and foam at the mouth to a friend. It doesn't matter if they actually listen, I just need to rant. Ranting is something I'm good at. I've worked it into an art form. I spew vitriol until the bile is gone and then I can move on. That's the key: move on when you're done.

It's been building up again. I'd let it off in small doses here and there. But I knew, just knew, I was going to blow up soon. I can't always rant over the phone or in person. So I type to friends. I rant and type. My fingers flying so quickly over the keyboard. Faster than I could even attempt at any other time. I almost imagine smoke coming from my fingers.

Here's my rant (Sorry, J, but I'm not done yet):

I know what you're doing. I know that all of the ill behavior is being done just to get a reaction. I won't react. If you're going to be childish, I'll treat you like a child. I'll not reward bad behavior with my attention. I'll ignore. I'll stay cool. I'll be calm. And I know, oh how I know, just how much that irritates the living shit out of you. Go ahead and rant all you want at me, it just makes you look bad. If you want to show all of the maturity of an 18-month old? By all means, go right ahead.

You know what buttons to push. I also know yours. Never forget that. I could be cruel if I choose. But really? You're not worth the effort. You're not, and never really have been, that important to me. I don't hate you like you say. I don't love you either. You've always just sorta been there. In the periphery.

Sometimes you'd come into focus just long enough to annoy, but I'd know that eventually you'd fade once more. And you did. You always did. I was happiest during those times when it seemed like you weren't even around. You were always too busy. Busy being elsewhere, loudly telling anyone who'd listen how wonderful you were, how perfect things were. You didn't hear people mocking you, laughing at you, behind your back. I did.

Or maybe you did? Maybe that's why you got so loud. Why you talked so much. Were you trying to convince them or yourself? Maybe you saw how unhappy we were when you came into focus for just that little bit. Maybe it ate at you. Maybe it still eats at you. Always trying to bluster and prove something. To whom? Me? The one who never backed down? Or her? The one who pitied you?

Which did you hate more? The fact that I never thought of you as the golden god that you so wanted to be or that she pitied you? That I, so young, called you on your bullshit? Or that she knew you weren't anything special? That she was too good for you.

You can lie to others all you like, but they don't believe you. Don't you realize that yet? They don't want to take care of you either. They see what you're like. They know you. I wonder how you can reconcile all of your lies since you found your god. I wonder if you still know the truth or if you've told yourself your lies for so long that they're the only truth you now know. I wonder if this is why you fear growing old. Dying. Then you'll have to face your god with your lies. Will he forgive you for what you've done? Or, more importantly, can you forgive yourself for all you have done?

As for me? I wish you the peace you never will have. I forgive you, but I will never forget. And, no, I won't piss on your grave like you said. I won't be there at all. Do you know why? It'll just be any other day for me. Only you'll stay faded and away.

And I'm done. Now I walk away.

More Good and Bad

2005-04-12T16:32:00.000-04:00

The Good:

I got the science project working and done. The magnet was fine after all. I just had it weighed down too much with the "flying saucer". I made a smaller, lighter flying saucer and it's now hovering beautifully. I even added some lovely cotton clouds to the whole thing. The Boy is thrilled. Now all we have to do is ready the big ol' cardboard display board.

The Bad:

My phone hates me! It won't let me send any pictures to my email. It's evil! J suggests going over to Cingular and stabbing people until I get my way. I reminded him that they tend to cry and bleed and I get nothing done when I start stabbing people all willy-nilly. But it is great for stress reduction. If I can't find a way online, I'll have to head on over to the store.

Unless anyone knows how to get my Motorola v551 to behave and send multi-media messages to my email once again? Any Cingular users out there? Bueller?

Grey's Anatomy

2005-04-11T16:37:00.000-04:00

Well, crap. The one time I don't save my post and Blooooooooger ate it.

I'll summarize why this show is growing on me:

They play Tegan and Sara.
Patrick Dempsey and Sandra Oh rock.
Callum Blue was on it last night.
It's like the OC version of ER, but not as annoying as OC or dramatic as ER.

The con: The lead irks me for some unknown reason.

Eat that, Bloooooooooooooooooooooooooger!

How-To: Fingerwaves

2005-04-11T15:43:00.000-04:00

I get an insane amount of hits from searches about fingerwaves and how to do them. I'll try to explain as best as I can. It won't be easy without visual aids, but here goes.

Fingerwaves work best with curly or wavy hair. Straight hair will be an überbiotch to wave. Believe me. There will be much tears and frustration. Stick to wavy or curly hair. It has the "S" pattern that you need. You want to work with the hair, not against it.

To hold the comb: Yes, there is a specific way to hold the comb. You want to hold it lightly with your fingers balanced on the top spine of the comb and the thumb under. It will be harder to control the hair if you clench the comb tightly, so if you find yourself becoming tense-- it will happen-- take a step back and relax before going on. You wouldn't believe how frustrating it can be to learn how to mold the hair into a fingerwave. I've thrown my mannequin head across the room. At school. And no one even blinked. I've seen people punch their mannequins and kick them across the room all because of fingerwaves.

You want the hair damp. Not dripping wet, not almost dry. You'll get no control with either. If you have a fingerwave lotion, use that. If not, gel works fine. I suggest applying the lotion or gel to the side of the head you're working on. Part the hair where it naturally parts-- you're working with not against the natural growth-- and arrange the hair to conform to the planned style. This is like making a rough sketch of your planned drawing.

You want to start the fingerwave on the heavy side of the head. This means the side with more hair on it from the parting. Comb the hair into a basic circular (or "C" shape) using the index finger of your left hand-- or right if you're a lefty-- as a guide. Start at the hairline and work your way back to the crown using 1 1/2" to 2" sections. Keep the sections small and easier to work with.

Forming the first ridge: Place the index or middle-- whichever is more comfortable for you-- finger of the left hand directly above the position for the first ridge. With the teeth of the comb pointing slightly upward, insert the comb directly under the index finger. Draw the comb forward about an inch or so along the fingertip. With the teeth still inserted in the ridge, flatten the comb against the head to lock in the ridge. Place the middle finger above the ridge (if you had the index finger there previously) and the index finger on the teeth of the comb. Emphasize the ridge by clamping fingers together and applying pressure to the head. Don't try to increase the height or depth of the ridge by pinching because it will screw it up for you later on.

Now for the tricky part. Without removing the comb, turn the teeth downward and comb the hair in a semicircular direction to form a dip in the hollow part of the way. You want your "C" shape to face the opposite direction of your previous one. Repeat the steps until you reach the crown, where the ridge phases out. The ridge and wave of each section should match evenly, without showing separations in the ridge or the hollow part of the wave.

Forming the second ridge: This time, you'll begin in the crown area. The movements are the reverse of those you followed in the forming of the first ridge.

I hope that helps those of you who were looking for directions on forming fingerwaves. Good luck! You'll need it.

May the force be with you..

2005-04-10T17:30:00.000-04:00

Science is totally being a bitch lately.

First, we try to do this electromagnetic experiment. We go to our friendly neighborhood hardware store to pick up needed items. Alas, it was not meant to be. We couldn't find one of the needed items. Damn you, single stranded, insulated 18 gauge wire! Damn you to hell!

So we decide (Well, mostly I decided when I said, "Screw this! We're doing the magnet one.") to do the experiment showing magnetic force. I grab a magnet-- it seemed strong enough-- and we took off.

In the book, they show this really girlie butterfly as part of the experiment. I know it was really girlie because The Boy said, "I'm not doing that. It's girlie." I told him that we can switch things up and use a plane or a rocket or a flying saucer. The flying saucer idea was much loved. We set to work. Or rather, I set to work. I had to do some cutting and painting. We needed a partially cut box in which we'd put the hovering flying saucer.

So I cut. And I painted. And I painted some more today. I followed the directions. And I guess I didn't buy a strong enough magnet. The flipping saucer isn't hovering like it should. It has to be right up on that magnet. Which means another trip to our friendly neighborhood hardware store. Tomorrow. I'm done today.

Good vs. Bad

2005-04-09T20:15:00.000-04:00

5 good things that happened today:

We've decided on a science project for the school's fair thingie. Well, he picked one, it wasn't happening, I picked another. But at least it's decided.
I made a killer cheese sauce for tonight's pasta. It rocked.
I was feeling well enough for a walk tonight.
Listening to Regina Spektor on the walk rocked.
I posted my obit over at Ink.

5 not so good things that happened today:

I didn't get to sleep until after 3 A.M.
I was awakened early, very early, by my evil children.
Who knew it was so hard to find single stranded, insulated 18 gauge wire?
Allergies + asthma = much gasping for air while walking.
I'm soooooo broke.

Life and Limb

2005-04-08T17:04:00.000-04:00

My body and how it's falling apart.

The back thing: Yes, I have a bad back. Yes, already. I actually got it as a teen. Between my overly enthusiastic growth spurt in my chestal area and an injury I got while in Russia that never healed properly, my back is in bad shape. And that was all before I had the kids. So, yeah, it's a mess. It's why I work out. Pilates is great for core exercises that help the back.

The draft thing: I've always been overly sensitive to drafts. I get sick easily from them. It's weird, I know. Moist, cool air fucks me up. The kids unfortunately inherited this from me. Anyway, I slept with the window open a crack. It was a nice night. Until it turned damp and cool. And I woke up feeling all kinds of hellish.

The stomach thing: That's just an added bonus from the draft thing. Aren't I lucky? I've been sipping ginger ale, tea and water and chowing down Pepto Bismol tabs and Rolaids like a mofo. It's feeling better, but I'm still treating it gingerly.

I got no sleep the other night. Not last night, the night before. The back thing, the stomach thing all because of the draft thing. Screwed me up. I felt like a creaky old woman. Get off my front lawn, you rapscallions!

I kept dozing off yesterday at random moments. It was freaky. There I am, stirring my tea, and I wake up a half hour later. The tea's tepid and I have to dump it. I kept losing odd minutes here and there but it was only making me more and more tired. I popped a percocet before bed to make sure I'd get sleep. I got sleep. I slept so much that I hope I'll be able to sleep tonight.

Today, I knew I couldn't just lie around if my back was bothersome. I had errands to run. Luckily, my back isn't too bad today. I did some stretching. The hot shower helped, too. I go to check my email before I head out and pffffffffffft.

Cable's not working. I swear a bit and run off. After I ran around a bit-- what should've only taken maybe a half hour wound up taking at least an hour-- I come back to fiddle with the cable and get it up and running. Only to find out that either gmail isn't behaving or my phone because I haven't gotten the messages I've been expecting. Resend. Wait. Same. Grr. Stress. Back. Ow. Owwww. Ok. Relax. Think about raiding liquor cabinet. Worry about how kids will take advantage of inebriation. That thought alone will keep me sober for a very long time. Sigh as mother nags about me going to the doctor.

I hate going to the doctor. But I should. But I hate it. Sigh. Stupid back.

What's your type?

2005-04-07T15:03:00.000-04:00

Conversation between me and mom during Lost last night.

There's some talk about blood types. The victim needs a blood transfusion. They find out that the victim has an A-negative blood type.

Mom: "Woo! A-negative! I'm A-negative!"

Me: "Did you just cheer a blood type?"

Mom: "But I'm A-negative."

Me: "Yeah, so? You don't normally hear people get all 'Woo! Type A-negative in the hizzouse, yo!' And it's not like it's as rare as O-negative, like The Girl has. Imagine trying to find that on an island?"

Mom: "I got excited.."

Then we hear one of the other characters mention that he has type O-negative blood. Mouths drop open.

Mom: "You just said.."

Me: "I think I'm psychic.."

Awww...

2005-04-07T13:35:00.000-04:00

Slipping into bragging mommy mode for several reasons..

Because I can.
Because my stomach and my back are battling it out to see which can cause me more pain. This is what I get for sleeping with the window open.
I just got the sweetest thing from my son.

I'm guessing that this is an early Mother's Day sort of present. It's a bright hunters orange heart with virulently green checkers sponged onto it. Unfortunately, it is too large to scan and you wouldn't get the extreme brightness-- Who says I can't be tactful?-- of the colors. In the middle is something my bouncing baby boy wrote:

I Love My Mom

I love my mom. She cares about me. She helps me feel better when I'm sad. My mom helps me with my homework. She helps me fix the sentences for spelling. She loves me so much. Yesterday she made me chocolate chip cookies. My mom is the greatest parent ever!

Doesn't that just melt your heart? If not, you're not human!

No Title

2005-04-06T16:00:00.000-04:00

I've got nothing today, folks. Really. It's so pretty outside that I just want to run out and jump rope or something. It's actually warm and I'm wearing a t-shirt. It's in the low 70s and I could die I'm so happy.

I'm also obsessing about the upcoming episode of Lost, so my brain? Barely puttering along. All I can think about are theories, speculations and spoilers. I'm in a sad, sad state. Wednesday night's set my heart aflutter with Lost and Alias coming on back to back. We schedule our nights around those shows. Yes, we're pathetic. Why do you ask?

Also, I can't stop staring at my ass whenever I walk past a mirror. All of that walking has given me a fantastically bodacious badunkadunk. I'm in awe of my own ass, people. Now to work on the thighs some more...

The Boy announced that he needed a project for his school's science fair. He then added that said project was not to be a robot. He was mightily unhappy about this. He's obsessed with robots. I grabbed a crapload of books on science projects that we shall peruse later in hopes that he will find something almost as cool as a robot to bring in. This is my thing. I love science and I think I'm more excited about helping him with the project than he is about it. I'm hoping to find something to do with chemistry. Did I mention that I wanted to be a mad scientist when I was little? And that, also when I was little, when I asked for an Easy Bake Oven, I instead got a chemistry set and a microscope? That by the time I was 10, I had 3 chemistry sets and could make a diluted form of hydrochloric acid? Parents, just buy the Easy Bake Oven. Trust me.

(Mis)Adventures in Waxing

2005-04-05T16:30:00.000-04:00

Guys: Be forewarned. You may be put off by this post.

Girls: I'm sure you're like me. You're sick of shaving all of the time. It's annoying. But you love having smooth legs, right? And if you're like me, you have to shave practically every day to keep the smooth legs. And if you're also so pale that you match a sheet of paper but have very dark hair, well, you pretty much need to shave.

I thought I had the perfect solution. "I'll wax! I've got the warmer, the wax, the muslin, and all of the other stuff I need. I'll be hair-free in no time and it should last longer than shaving at the very least!" People, I'm stupid. I should never listen to myself. Did you know that there's a whole area on the back of your legs? And do you know how hard it is to do a half-back bend to get to it? Also how messy it is to attempt said half-back bend while applying wax? That's when I realized that I should lay out paper towels everywhere. That was the only smart thing I did.

So I waxed. I grimaced, but I got through it. It was, after all, less painful than waxing my own eyebrows (which I do every month). The kids came home from school while I was half way through. "Mom, why are you bent like that?" asked The Boy. "Shh.. I'm concentrating," I muttered as I balanced precariously-- very much like a demented statue-- whilst slathering wax on to my calf. The Girl caught on quickly, "You're waxing your legs, right? Doesn't that hurt? Why is your tongue sticking out?" I ripped off the wax and sighed, "Yes, I'm waxing my legs and it doesn't exactly feel good. And I can't help it if my tongue pokes out when I'm concentrating. God, my back hurts." "Maybe you shouldn't stand like that, " suggested The Boy and then quickly ran away from the Death Rays I was shooting out of my eyes.

I finally got done. I was sticky, but I was done. Now I only had to do my facial de-fuzzing. Again, pale skin + dark hair = fuzz above the lip. That went smoothly and quickly. Now, onto my brows. I'd been thinking about going thinner. I'm a cautious waxer. If I want to change the shape of my brow, I work with tweezers. I just use the wax to get rid of the superfluous hair. Well, I accidentally gobbed on too much wax and I got that thinner brow. Thank god it actually looks good, even if it was unexpected. Since I changed the shape of the one brow, I had to tweeze the other to match. Ain't nothin' worse than mismatched brows, people. Then I went on to wax the other brow.

Right in the middle of pressing down the strip of muslin onto the wax, my contact popped out. It took me a second to realize this. I thought I'd stupidly dropped wax onto my eye and panicked for a bit. (I once glooped some wax on my eyelashes. That was a bitch to get out.) Once I realized what had actually happened, I tried to scoop up the lens with a non-sticky part of my hand and dropped it into my case with some saline until I could wash my hands and pop it back in. That's when I noticed a glob of wax in my hair.

After scraping wax out of my hair, checking the brows and scraping wax off the floor, I sat down and wondered what had gone wrong. Having not found a solution, I've decided that leg waxing? Not worth it. I'll have to seek a less messy and contortionistic method for hair removal. Or pay for it.

Dust Bunnies and Dream Phones

2005-04-04T15:18:00.000-04:00

Two totally unrelated topics.

Dust Bunnies:

Started our spring cleaning this weekend. I cleaned the bedrooms top to bottom and found some scary ass dust bunnies-- almost bigger than my cat-- that eventually succumbed to my mighty vacuum cleaner. I inhaled so much dust. My lungs are still heavy with it. I had to use my inhaler several times yesterday. I usually use it only several times a year. My nose is still red from all of the nose blowing that occurred.

And I haven't even touched the closets yet. I expect to finish spring cleaning some time next spring.

Dream Phones:

I had the strangest dream last night.

I was in a McDonald's for some unknown reason when I ran into an old friend, L. L was upset with me for not calling. I told her how I'd lost some numbers and that hers was one of them and asked her to give it to me again so I could program it into my phone. She said she'd gotten a new number for her new phone and she hadn't yet memorized it. She asked me to wait while she looked it up on the phone. She pulled out this odd little phone. It looked almost like a computer mouse.

The phone unfolded itself all Inspector Gadget style. Out popped a monitor and a mic. She spoke into the mic and soon, paper came out of the printer that was built into the side of the monitor. I took the scrap of paper, told her I'd call and left.

I thought it was odd that this was the second dream I'd had with L in it in a month. In the other one, she had metallic green skin that was almost beetle-like. I remember the skin clearly because I'd offered her an eyeliner pencil in a similar shade that I said would look lovely on her after her skin went back to normal. Guess this means I should hunt her down, huh?

Isn't yoga for girls?

2005-04-03T14:22:00.000-04:00

That's what The Boy asked me. I told him that it was an equal opportunity exercise and made him join us yesterday.

The Girl took to it quickly. I already see a great improvement in the way she stands, sits and walks. She stands tall and is actually less clumsy than usual. We've been working on her breathing. She's learned to relax into poses, but she forgets to breathe. I can tell because she starts turning alarming colors and I have to remind her that air is good.

The Boy is very stiff. So inflexible for someone so young. You wouldn't be able to tell how out of shape he is just by looking at him. He's so skinny. I've always had to force him to go outside and run around. He would rather sit on the computer or play video games. Since I've taken them away, he's had to find other things to do with his time. None of them include going outside and running around. To my surprise, he's really gotten into the walks. He enjoys them and looks forward to them. I hope to get him more interested in the yoga. Last night, I worked mostly on his posture. He slouches terribly. When he got a pose dead on, I cheered him on and gave him high fives. He needed that bit of masculinity interjected into all of the "girliness".

I've even gotten them to look forward to the warmer months and not only for the lack of school. They're eager to try different types of sport and exercise. They even enjoy the healthier meals we've been making. Granted, I don't expect them to eat the barley butternut squash salad, but they chow down on that fruit salad for dessert. Overall I'd say this has been a relatively easy switch, mostly because I've included everyone in the decision making process. The hard part will be keeping it up, but since I've gotten the kids into it, they've been pulling the rest of us along.

Stormy Weather

2005-04-02T20:10:00.000-05:00

There's some crazy ass rain going on over here. Lots of wind, too. The lights have flickered a few times, so I won't try my luck. Looks like it's going to be a sucky weekend over here.

Me: Coming out of the library, I notice the rain is very heavy and say, "Woah! Looks like the sky opened up while we were in there.."

The Boy: Looks up at the sky and says, "Wait.. Really?"

I then had to explain the expression because he was looking for a zipper.

Work It

2005-04-01T13:49:00.000-05:00

I'm feeling very antsy. I haven't been able to go on my daily walk the past few days. The Girl has been sick. I thought she was getting better yesterday, but then she got worse. She seems better again. The fever hasn't returned. I've had to threaten to tie her to the couch in order to make her rest. She misses the walks she says. They've been good for all of us.

Even The Boy enjoys them. I didn't think anything that wasn't a video game would be enjoyable for him. He does try to fake a cramp on the fourth lap. I'll play along and suggest we start our cool down. During the cool down he winds up jumping around and sometimes jogging, exerting himself more than he did during the walk. He doesn't realize that I know he's faking the cramping.

Mom didn't realize that he did the fake cramp thing when she went with him for a walk last night. Usually, The Girl teams up with her and The Boy teams up with me. The Girl is too full of energy for me. She's usually running up ahead and then running back to walk with mom, then running up ahead again and so on the whole time. I tried walking with her and wound up tripping over her and walking into a thorny bush to avoid her because she can't seem to walk a straight line.

Mom can't walk with The Boy because he whines and fakes cramps. I can distract him from that and keep him going. I'm also asthmatic, so I need to keep my pace a bit slower than The Girl. My pace is faster than The Boy's so he gets a decent work out going. I told The Boy that I'll have him jogging by summer. He gave me a worried look. I make sure he warms up and cools down and stretches because if I don't, he won't. The pairings work well.

I also mentioned maybe getting some jump ropes and hula hoops. I want to make exercising fun for the kids-- and, to be honest, for us adults too-- to keep them coming back for more. And jumping rope and hula hooping burns an insane amount of calories. We might also get swimming lessons during the summer. I can swim, but I want to learn the real way. All of the different strokes. I want to throw in some yoga and pilates back into my exercise regime for the stretching and the toning. It seems more fun than just lifting weights. The Girl seemed very interested in both. I just need to find a place big enough for our two clumsy selves to do it and hopefully keep from getting bruises and bumps.

Anyone have any work out tips for kids? Any suggestions would be appreciated.

Moving on...

2005-03-31T14:00:00.000-05:00

I've been going about all of this the wrong way. I realized this last night. He's done everything to provoke us. To either try to send us into a panic, begging him to stay, or to royally piss us off, making us scream, rant and rave. We've done neither. We haven't shown any reaction to his little stunts. But we've been panicky and angry. The stress has worn us down. We've been doing this all wrong.

It came to me late last night. I couldn't sleep. I was thinking again. I think too much. My mind was churning with all of the things he could do to us. Everything he could take away. That's when it hit me. Who fucking cares?

Who cares if he takes the house? Who cares if he takes the computers? Who cares? We still won't beg him to stay. We'll still have each other. We'll make do. We'll pull through. He can't take that from us.

And, really, all he's accomplishing here is making himself look like a complete ass. The community is small enough that rumors fly around before you know it. He hates it when people think bad things about him. Drives him nuts. He always cared what people thought. He's not going to much like what people will be saying about him. I think he got a hint of that last night when we had my cousins over.

My cousin's wife is a real estate agent. We thought he had called her to help him look for an apartment or something. When she and my cousin came and we saw she was appraising the house, well... They realized that not all of us were in on it. And things grew more uncomfortable when they realized that we were unhappy with the situation. Really unhappy. I think that's when my father realized he might've screwed up. He looked bad. He no longer looked like the wonderful and loving husband, father, and grandfather. And since his temper is well-known around these parts, people will assume things.

I never cared much what people said about me. There've always been rumors. Those I care about know the truth and that's all that matters to me. Mom's the same, but she's worried about what they'll say about him. As she said, she can't just shut off 30 years of love. Even if she hates him now. But, then, love and hate do go hand in hand.

I've kinda rambled off subject, didn't I? Anyway, even if he does sell the house and take things away, what will that really accomplish? If he tries to take all of the money, it'll just get him a law suit. And, eventually, we'd just get another house. We'd still be together. Granted, I don't want to shuttle the kids around-- they've had enough drama and trauma in their lives-- but if we have to, we'll move. Another town, another state, whatever. He'll still be angry and alone. He won't be able to move on.

We will.

A little good news..

2005-03-30T14:21:00.000-05:00

...to break up the bad.

It's actually nice outside. I think it might be around 60 degrees.
The bad stuff has made the rest of us (mom, kids, and me) much closer. We've been doing a lot more things together, such as...
The daily walks we've been taking have been paying off big time! Just a half hour a day and I dropped 5 lbs. Of course, stress probably played a part there as well.
Erwin! My beloved, clunky, dinosaur of a computer. I forgot that I had him stashed away temporarily. I was going to donate him to a school, but might need him after all. (Yes, I named my computer. I name everything.)
Also found old notebook comp that my father gave to my mom after he got the newer one. It's loaded down with viruses and spyware, but I'm sure I can get that up and running, too.
There was no screaming last night. I think he realized that it was only working him since it only had my mom telling him off and me asking when he was leaving. Also had The Girl asking me why "grandpa was being such a jerk" and wishing he would either go away or "behave himself" prompting me to reply, "He may be a jerk, but he's still your grandpa-- nothing you can do will change that, believe me-- and you should be more respectful. And I hope soon because he's really being a jerk."
I impressed my mom with my resourceful budgeting. Told her I could at least cut the food bill in half, if not more. Might actually get it down a lot lower. Most of our food spending was to please the only person in the house who didn't like leftovers and refused to eat them. I pointed out all the food we wasted that the rest of us actually prefer to eat. Also suggested ways to slash other bills. Things might get tight for a bit, but I'm not feeling panicky because I'm sure they'll smooth out. (That's saying a lot. I'm a classic worrier.)

Hoping things stay good and get better.

Worse and worse..

2005-03-29T14:25:00.000-05:00

That's how things are now.

Last night was bad. He started snipping at everyone. I asked him why he doesn't leave. He wouldn't answer. He said he's determined to ruin my life like I ruined his. Because it's all my fault. Only he believes that one.

I might not have a computer. He claims he's taking mine (since it's under his name, not that he pays for it) on the 1st. We're hoping that means that he's leaving then. I warned my mother that if he even seems like he's going to hurt anyone, I'll have him thrown in jail so fast that he'll have whiplash. Then I'll slap a restraining order on him. He wants to be vicious? I can be even more so.

I've taken to staying out of the house, during the day, while he's at home. I don't want to have to have him arrested-- I worry about how traumatic that will be for the kids-- but will if I have to. If he takes the computer, I'll try to update from the library however sporadically I can.

I'm praying things get better soon. I haven't slept well. The kids aren't sleeping well either. Keeping my fingers crossed.

The Kids

2005-03-28T16:44:00.000-05:00

The kids..

Ugh.

What have I told the kids? Nothing much yet.

I know they can tell what's going on. Grandpa's never home and when he is, he won't talk to anyone. I've only told them that we've had a big fight and their grandpa's in a nasty grumpy mood and to avoid him.

The Girl.. She's not one to take any answer at face value. She can turn full on gestapo on your ass if you're not careful about it. She did that with him the other day when he didn't show for dinner. I didn't catch that, my mom did. She was smirking about it.

The Boy.. He's always been very sensitive to tension. That coupled with his ADHD.. Well, it's difficult at times. He's subdued, almost unnaturally so, and then when my father comes home or leaves he's almost spastic.

The Cat.. The poor thing was there during the huge blowout. Since then, he's been very angry with my father and extremely protective of me. If my father's home, he's either by my side or on my lap. If the kids are in the room with my father, he's sitting in between. He's become very protective of us. He's also had some bad dreams.

My mom and I have spent most of our time reassuring the kids (cat included). I've let my organizing compulsion free. I've been scrubbing and reorganizing like nobody's business. Martha Stewart would be proud. I've also spent time assuring my mom that no matter what, I'm suporting her. I don't want her to worry unnecessarily. I already know how draining everything is for her.

We're waiting to see what will happen before we really have a talk with the kids. I've always been big on coming straight out with the kids. They know anyway and if you lie, they just distrust you. Unfortunately, there are always some questions that never have answers. They just dealt with my divorce last year-- finalized just a few day's before The Girl's birthday-- and it may happen all over again. All I can tell them is that we're family and that no matter what we will stick together and take care of each other. Mom tells them that no matter what, they can always depend on her and me. I just wish that the men in their lives felt the same way.

Stay or Go

2005-03-28T15:25:00.000-05:00

I can feel my whole body tense up when he enters the house. It's worse when he's in the same room. And it's not just me. I can see how he negatively affects everyone in the house. He's become the elephant in the room that we're trying so desperately not to see. He's ignoring everyone as well. Every so often he'll drop a "request", his tone dripping with venom.

Last night's request was that we clear off a shelf on the refrigerator for his food. He refuses to eat any food we buy or prepare. I've told my mother that this will actually help us with our budget since he always refused to eat leftovers. We will only have to make a few big meals and coast along on leftovers the rest of the week. But back to the shelf thing. He made his request, my mom shrugged at him never taking her eyes off the tv-- she does the silent treatment better than anyone I know-- and I couldn't help myself, I gave him a dirty look.

I offered to clean off a shelf for his food and meant to set about doing so just as soon as he left the house for the day. Since it was only me in the house, he decided to linger. I stayed in my room and studied. The cat hung out with me and we studied together. I then passed out for a bit because I got no sleep last night and when I woke up he was still home. Eventually he left and I puttered around for a bit and when he returned it was a bit of a stand-off. I pretended he wasn't around.

Lunch rolled around and I got a phone call during my meal. It was my dear Albanian friend calling to tell me that she failed a test by two points. We wallowed in our misery together and she took me up on my offer to help her study. That killed a few hours and the fridge still hadn't been cleared.

I finally got around to it and was all squicked out by the nastiness in the fridge. I attacked that grunge like it was my father, all the while grumbling under my breath to the cat. I threw his crap on the shelf, swore a bit, grumbled more and wondered if he would either come to his senses or just leave already.

Mom came home for lunch. We had a little bitch session. Sometimes when I look at her, I see that she almost hopes for divorce. I think mostly to just have something definite. "He pulls this every couple of years," she said to me. "You didn't beg him to stay," I reply. "Not this time. Not anymore." And I see the years of frustration and anger and pain on her face.

"I gave him over 30 years of my life. 30 years of walking on eggshells. 30 years of giving up everything for him. It always had to be his way. I wasted 30 years of my life on that man." And I want to cry because I know that feeling well. Only I didn't put up with it for nearly that long. I also know how scared she must feel. Even if you want to leave a bad situation, it was the only situation you've known for so long. The rest is unknown. Unknown and terrifying.

I only had to contend with 5 years of marriage and 3 years of separation. I wanted out so badly and even then it was difficult. I had a nervous breakdown of sorts. I can't even fathom how difficult this must be for her. And I'm still thinking selfishly at this point. I can't help but think it would be better for all concerned if he did just leave. It would be easier than this at any rate.

Why?

2005-03-27T16:18:00.000-05:00

I'm sure some of you out there are wondering why I'm posting about the current situation. Particularly since it's a painful and ugly situation. This blog has become a sort of release for me. I've never been able to keep a diary or journal before, but now that I am I want to keep it going. It's had a positive influence on my life. It's helped me sort out things.

But strangers are reading this.. Yes, I know. It's easier to tell things we'd normally keep hidden to strangers though, isn't it? And, yes, I have a few friends who read this, but they'd hear about it anyway and in probably more gruesome detail and for longer periods of time. (Pity my friends.) I may like keeping an air of mystery, but I've also never felt terribly secretive. Yes, I keep things private. I enjoy my privacy. But maybe talking about this here might not only help me sort out my feelings, it might help someone else going through something similar. Also, as weird as this may sound, I want to keep a record of this time. I want to be able to look back and say "We survived this. We made it through that."

Ode to Divorce

2005-03-27T11:38:00.000-05:00

I found out today that my father asked for a divorce. Will he go through with it? I don't know. I don't know if this is one of his little ploys. Whatever it is, mom's called his bluff. She said if he wants it, he can have it.

Mom and I talked. She said it's been a long time coming. She's sick of the way he's treated her, me, the kids. She's sure he was waiting for anything to happen so he could pin the blame there. I said that he was just like my ex. She nodded. I knew then that she never left because she had nowhere to go. She saw herself in me. I got away. Ran to her. She needs me now.

Whatever happens, we know that we'll take care of each other. Just like we always have.

Atmospheric Tension

2005-03-26T16:42:00.000-05:00

Things are not well in the Prophet household. We had a huge family fight last night. Things are distinctly uncomfortable. Only because my father continues to act like a child who's in dire need of a time out.

I'm proud to say that I kept my calm. I didn't yell back. I didn't become cruel. (I tend to do these when attacked.) I managed to remain an adult. Whatever he'd hoped to accomplish with his fit backfired royally. He only managed to piss off my mother. She's giving him the silent treatment. He's giving everyone the silent treatment. He doesn't realize that it's only making him look worse, but it's always been this way with him.

My father and I have never gotten along. Mostly because of his vicious mood swings and more vicious barbs. I've taken the brunt of his attacks all of my life. I did it gladly. I'd rather be hurt than see my loved ones hurt. My mom is a loved one. I hate it when he hurts her feelings, so I turn his anger towards me. Always have. I finally told him that I was done. I was done being his punching bag. That no one does anything to incurr his wrath. That it's all him and he needs to get it all worked out because I refuse to play now. And my mother backed me up.

This, of course, was seen as a huge betrayal. I've been disowned. Again. I usually am anytime I manage to make a stand without sinking to his level. In turn, I think my mom's disowned him. I don't know. Everyone's on edge. Even the cat.

I can't do it anymore. I've told him, time and time again, that he needs to stay on his medication. He's awful when he's not on it. I won't have him behaving like this around my kids. They've been through enough. He tried to kick me out and almost got himself kicked out instead. I guess mom's had enough of it, too.

Happy Easter.

Just Ducky!

2005-03-25T12:45:00.000-05:00

Yesterday, to get out of my funk, I decided to wrangle the basement into some semblance of order. We got rid of all of the toys the kids no longer play with, separating the unbroken from broken to be sent off to Goodwill or Salvation Army.

The girl has decided that Barbies are so five minutes ago. The new hotness? Little beanie duckies with taped on headbands that resemble long, curly blonde hair.

Don't you just love the luxurious blonde locks?

Tape and headband. Up close and personal.

She loves the camera and the camera loves her!

I have to say, this did get me out of my funk. I laughed a good solid five minutes with intermittent giggles throughout the night. I only have to say "Ducky" to crack my mom up now.

Of Want and Need

2005-03-24T16:15:00.000-05:00

Or Why I Really Shouldn't Think or Write While in a Gloomy State of Mind.

It's grey today. Again.

Just when I thought spring was ready to kick down the doors, it snowed yesterday. Now everything's damp and grey. Cold, damp and grey. It's days like this that chill me to the bone and make me wonder if I'll ever feel warm again. My thoughts are as grey as the sky.

The irony of all this? I'd been wondering how I'd get into the mood to draw my Despair desktop. Now I'm wondering how I'm going to get the motivation to stop moping and start doing.

I hate these moods. I don't do them well. I hate feeling down. It feels too much like self-pity. I then become angry with myself and berate myself, dragging myself to an even further low. This goes on and on until I manage to haul my ass into gear and do something, anything, productive. The only way out is to do. Not think. Not feel. Do.

But even while I'm busy keeping myself-- and my mind-- preoccupied, every so often a nasty little nagging thought will enter my mind and destroy whatever calm I managed to create. The zen-like feeling I had from creating that elaborate meal or drawing that detailed drawing-- you can tell when I'm feeling badly, I become very detailed in my work-- is shattered in that one split second. That happened for me yesterday.

The thought? Well, it started when I thought about my impending 30th birthday. I know, I know. 30 isn't old. But I'd had such plans. Things I would do. Adventures I'd have. I feel like I've let myself down somehow, but that wasn't what really got me. It was the knowledge that I'm still as vaguely dissatisfied as I was 10-- and even 20-- years ago. I figured that, by now at least, I'd know what I want.

That's the thought that's always bothered me. What do I want? It's not love. I've never really needed companionship. It's a nice perk, but not necessary for my happiness or well-being. Understanding? Not really. I like being a bit of a mystery. Will a job fulfill me? Not really. I'd be content with a variety of jobs. My job isn't who I am. And, all in all, I'm generally content with my life. It could be better, but it certainly could be worse. I know, I lived worse before. It's not an issue of needs. So what's the problem? ...I don't know.

I've always felt that there's this missing piece. I figured it would come to me in time. And I've waited. And searched. I'm no closer to it than I had been all those years ago. I'm not a patient person, I want to know what I want to know and I want to know it now.

What is it that I want to know? No fucking clue. Do I need to know it? I wish I knew.

Five down..

2005-03-23T13:18:00.000-05:00

Two more to go!

Desire is done:

If a stick is wood and wood floats...

2005-03-23T12:23:00.000-05:00

Then the stick that just bonked me upside the head must be a witch!

Or it just means that I've been chosen, by the brilliant Edana, to do this book meme. Here goes..

You are stuck inside Fahrenheit 451, which book do you want to be?

The one that doesn't get burned? Oooh.. How about those books that the townspeople memorized? Probably Shakespeare's Complete Works.

Have you ever had a crush on a fictional character?

Oh, my.. Have I ever! Westley from The Princess Bride-- I do love a pirate-- and Dream from the Sandman comic book series.

The last book you bought is:

It's been a while since I've bought books-- I usually stop at the library--but I did buythe first two of Garth Nix's The Keys to the Kingdom books. Very good.

The last book you read was:

The last book I read was A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L'Engle because Sawyer, on Lost, was reading it. Every book in that show has a meaning. The book was only so-so. It ended much too abruptly, but I found the whole idea of tessering fascinating.

What are you currently reading?

Watership Down by Richard Adams. Also because Sawyer's reading it on Lost. Who would've expected Sawyer to be such a reader? I'm liking this book so far, but it is kind of embarrassing when people ask you to describe what it's about because all I can say so far is "It's...about bunnies. Migratory bunnies..."

Five books you would take to a deserted island:

To be practical, I'd first bring Toxic Plants. I don't want to eat the wrong thing.
American Gods by Neil Gaiman because I could read it over and over and never get bored.
Good Omens by Neil Gaiman and Terry Prachett. The funniest book about the apocalypse that you'll ever read.
Hogfather by Terry Pratchett because it still makes me giggle and I love any Pratchett book that has either Death or the Four Horsemen in it.
No Exit and Three Other Plays by Jean Paul Sartre. Unexpected, isn't it? But I do love the plays. Great in English, better in the original French. Read them in high school, then again in college and I'm still in love with them.

Now comes the passing of the stick!

Oh, crap. I hate picking. How about the next three willing victims to comment on this post get passed the stick? Sounds fair!

This 'n' That

2005-03-22T13:55:00.000-05:00

PMS does a real number on me. Not just physically, but mentally, too. Yes, yes, guys, I know you're all icked by this topic. Deal with it. If you have women in your life, you'll eventually have to come to terms with it.This is what's happened to me this week:

I've been having this weird allergy thing going on with my face. First it was the welts on my throat, now it's my weirdly puffed eyes. It's not a product allergy since I've used nothing new. And I take allergy medicine every day, so I'm baffled by the whole thing. I've switched to a different allergy pill and slapped on soothing creams and ointments to de-puff.
I had my PMS breakout. Add that in with the puffiness and I look sexy!
I lost 3 pounds, but I'm bloated. My loose jeans-- at least they were loose this weekend-- were suddenly snug. But no weight gain. I'm really confused.
I accidentally scheduled the dentist appointment for the day my daughter goes to her very pregnant teacher's baby shower. This is also the last day the teacher will be there. (I scrambled to change the appointment today. I am not that cruel.)
I'm constantly ravenously hungry; but as soon as I take a few bites, I'm full... Until a minute later. Then I'm ravenously hungry again.
February really messed me up with its 28 days. I kept thinking my period was late until I counted back. Stupid February.
The flakiness? Only getting worse.. I keep wandering through the house, trying to remember what I was going to do. I still don't remember.
My father tried to take my entire bowl of lollipops from me and I shot death rays at him from my eyes. I then snatched my bowl right back. Never take my lollipops away.
I keep thinking it's Wednesday. Since yesterday. I really love Wednesdays. Is it Wednesday yet?
That thing I should be doing? Is probably studying. Yeah, need to start cracking open those books. Not looking forward to it with the headache, blurry eyes and cramps I've got going on right now. Determined to read at least a chapter some time today.

Also posted my bit of bad writing up at Inferior Ink. J picked this week's theme.

Average them out...

2005-03-21T23:39:00.000-05:00

Two new desktops.

One I am not to proud of, but since it's part of the Endless series I'm throwing it up anyway..

I tried!

I almost-- as a joke-- left it blank, since Destruction left the Endless. And because I wasn't thrilled with how this turned out. But I think I more than made up for it with this one...

I painted and drew this one. Yes, in Photoshop. Really.

I don't think I'll ever do one like that again. It took forever to do and my wrist now hurts and my (puffy) eyes are wonky. Enjoy!

It was like pulling teeth...

2005-03-21T14:31:00.000-05:00

Today the kids had to go to the dentist for their 6 month cleaning. I should've known that things wouldn't go well when we got a call several weeks back from the dentist's office saying that we were overdue for an appointment when I had a card with the appointment's date and time on it right at my desk. I had scheduled them the last time I was there. So I called them up and straightened things out. They wound up switching the time. Oh, and the receptionist? Very bitchy.

I woke up early and noticed that my eyes were weirdly puffy and quite red. I wondered what fresh hell I stumbled into this time. I hate my allergies. I slapped on some de-puffing cream and didn't bother with makeup. I look very scary.

I left a bit early to pick up the kids at school. I go to the attendance office to sign them out and to let them know that they'll be coming back after. In the office is a teacher who I've seen around, but didn't know. He turns to the women in the office and asks, "Here's something I've always wondered.. How do you know for sure that it's actually the parent getting the child?" just as I'm signing out the kids. This causes everyone to turn and look at me. I crack a joke about picking up more compliant kids than my own and wait. The Boy comes down quickly, but The Girl takes longer. She totally forgot that she was coming back and dragged everything but her desk with her. I shuttle them into the car and off we go.

We get to the dentist's office a few minutes early for our 10:00 appointment and I shoo the kids off while I deal with the very same bitchy receptionist from that voicemail weeks ago. I settle down with my copy of Watership Down-- still reading when I can-- and we wait. And wait.

The first hour went by pretty quickly. The kids were flipping through magazines and chattering. I had my book. But then, during the second hour, things began to sour. We were stuck on these little bitty kiddie stools and I wasn't comfortable sitting with my knees hovering near my ears. We all got fidgetty. It was around this time that The Girl started telling me the time. Every five minutes. "Mom, it's 11:15 now... Mom, it's 11:20 now... Mom, it's 12:05 now..."

Whenever I asked her the purpose of this exercise, she would just shrug and tell me the time again. I handed her a magazine and told her to read. That was when I noticed The Boy ogling a rather voluptuous female vampire in a video game magazine. I helped him flip the page and got a scowl for my helpfulness. I turned to my cell phone to vent my resentment. It seemed to be the trend in the waiting room. One person gave up entirely and rescheduled. I grabbed the couch before anyone else could. Ahh..

It wasn't until around 1:00 that The Boy was called in. Things went rather quickly there on out. I got some reading done. All I can still say about the book is....it's a book about bunnies. The kids got their cleaning. No cavities. Just before we were going to make a run for it, I'm told that they need to come in on Thursday. They want to put a sealant on their molars. I whimpered and asked about an afternoon appointment. It seems that I go to the only dentist in the world who doesn't have afternoon appointments. They said we got the first one on Thursday. Maybe we'll get out by noon next time..

Anyway, since we'd been so long at the dentist's the kids missed lunch entirely. They were thrilled with the stop to Burger King, but not by my orders of "Less talking, more eating. Maybe you'll get in an hour of school today." Which is about all they got. And I get to do it all over again on Thursday. Aren't I the lucky one?

Oh, and I found out that they need a trip to the orthodontist, too!

Old No. 13

2005-03-20T21:04:00.000-05:00

Well, I went ahead and did it. If you missed a desktop and don't feel like digging through the archives, head on over to Old No. 13.

Why Old No. 13? I don't know.. It just came to me. I follow my whims.

I should be cleaning...

2005-03-20T17:11:00.000-05:00

But, instead, I finally got around to setting up my gmail as a personal file server and threw those desktops I drew up on there. That meant that I had to change my links and some were being little buggers, but I think I've got them all straightened out now. If a picture's not showing up, please let me know.

I think I might set up another blog just for the desktops I draw. Yeah, J, I know you've been telling me to do that. Just hush. It'll just be for the desktops I draw. Nothing else. I don't need to overload myself when things are just starting to get busy here. I'll keep everyone posted if I do. That way you won't have to weed through the archives in search of them.

Anyway, here's the latest:

Probably my favoritest Endless.

Three down, four more to go.

No rest for the wicked...

2005-03-20T13:24:00.000-05:00

I couldn't sleep last night. Yesterday was a very bad day. A very bad day. Needless to say, I was very stressed out by it.

When I was a young artiste, I'd draw nearly all day. I loved summer vacation because I could literally draw all day. Art was my meditation. It was my way to relax and de-stress. For a very long time-- what I like to call my "Marriage Period"-- I almost never drew or painted or sculpted. It was rough.

When I got back into it, I hated how rusty I'd become. And I lacked inspiration. When I was young, it seemed that I never ran out of things to draw. I never needed an excuse. Now it was different. It was frustrating.

Photoshoop always was a good outlet for me, but it never was like drawing used to be for me. Yeah, I could paint, but it wasn't the same. But now that I've started drawing in it.. It's like it was. Everything melts away and I can just draw.

Unfortunately, I was drawing until sunrise.

The original emo.

Looks like I got cracking on that Endless series sooner than I'd expected.

A Happier Death

2005-03-20T01:39:00.000-05:00

It's after midnight-- way after midnight-- so, of course, I must post my most recent drawing done in Photoshop. This is turning into the Photoshop blog. I wasn't content with last night's drawing. Death didn't turn out how I pictured her in my mind. She turned out more like Siouxsie Sioux instead.

Isn't she the Death you'd want to go with?

I have to say that I'm very pleased with this one. She looks just like I imagined. Now to tackle the rest of the Endless..

Fangirl

2005-03-19T01:32:00.000-05:00

Have I mentioned how much I worship Neil Gaiman? How I collect his works? How I lost my entire bloody Sandman collection in a fire? How I seem to be a magnet for natural disasters? (Mostly in human form; but have been through flood, fire, tornado, hurricane, etc.)

Anyway, enough of that. I should be sleeping, but instead I was making this:

The weird thing about the drawing is that it came out nothing like I'd expected. This, of course, means I'll have to try to make more until I get what I wanted. I might even try for some other Endless.

Before you ask, I totally cheated on the little spiral under her eye. I used the spiral shape already in photoshop because I couldn't get it to turn out evenly.

Plucking Twangers

2005-03-18T12:32:00.000-05:00

I don't think a video clip has ever made me laugh so hard. If you scroll down a bit, you can read the transcript.

I agree with Rachel, we should get this show back on the air.

(link via Rachel, via Miss Kimberley)

***

In other news, my did some weird, very bad thing to my back yesterday. Or was it the day before? I don't remember anymore. I only remember thinking, "Oh, that doesn't feel good.." So I'll probably be hanging out on the couch with my copy of Watership Down that I've been trying to find time to read.

Request

2005-03-17T20:46:00.000-05:00

Greedy J requested another desktop. Click on the thumbnail for the full-size image.

Jenny Lewis

That's all for tonight. My eyes are hating me now.

The Icelandic Pixie

2005-03-17T16:25:00.000-05:00

Did I mention that I'm addicted?

Today I've made my offering to my favorite Icelandic pixie, Björk.

Maybe I'll sleep peacefully tonight.

Even More Letters

2005-03-17T13:40:00.000-05:00

Dear Photoshop,

I know I didn't play with you last night. I wanted to get to sleep sometime before 4 A.M. And I did. But did you have to haunt my dreams? That was totally unfair. I made some great stuff and then woke up and realized that I didn't actually do squat. That put me in a bad mood.

Does this mean I'll never sleep again?

Your bitch,
R

Dear Angie,

I pouted. A lot.

I told you to get rid of the hicks. They were intimidated by you, as they should be. When you see them, could you kick their asses for me? Just a little? Thanks!

Still love ya,
R

Dear Bobby Jon and James,

HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATE.

With disgust,
R

Dear Ibrehem,

Dude, could you have flubbed that challenge more? Seriously. That was really bad. My cat could've done a better job than you, man.

But you're pretty, so I don't hate you. Gang up with Stephenie and get rid of the hicks!

This is your first and last warning,
R

Dear Tom,

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrowr.

This may be the second time in history that my mom and I are both drooling over the same man. Please walk around shirtless forever.

Sitting in a puddle of drool,
R

Dear Koror tribe,

Well played, well played. Give the immunity to the putz. You're evil geniuses all of you. Marry me?

Merely a puppet,
R

Dear Lost,

Please come back. I miss you. I can't eat. (Ok, I can eat. But it's not as good without you!) I can't sleep. (But that's mostly Photoshop's fault.) I need you back in my life.

Suffering from withdrawal,
R

More Drawings

2005-03-16T12:42:00.000-05:00

Made some more yesterday. Clicking on the thumbnail will take you to the full-size image.

I present The Audreys:

Pictures + Parents = Pain

2005-03-16T12:31:00.000-05:00

I was so excited over my little drawings yesterday that I ran to my parents with them. Because I'm five years old.

Conversation with my father..

Me: "See? Isn't it neat? I did it on the computer!"
Father: "Why's the nose so big?"
Me: "The nose isn't big."
Father: "It's too big."
Me: "The nose is fine."
Father: "No, the nose is too big. Why you make it so big?"
Me: "Ignore the nose! Look at the rest. Good, huh?"
Father: "It's good, but the nose.."
Me: "Enough with the nose! It's like the cheese all over again.. 'Try the cheese. The cheese is good. Eat the cheese.' You're obsessed!"
Father: "What does cheese have to do with the nose?"
Me: "I give up."
Father: "You should try this cheese I got. It's good."

Conversation with my mother...

Me: "See? I made it on the computer!"
Mom: "It's good."
Me: "...."
Mom: "Really good?"
Me: "Dad keeps going on about the nose being too big."
Mom: "Maybe that's how you see it.."
Me: "I did the portrait from a photograph! I didn't exaggerate the nose!"
Mom: "It's fine."
Me: "You were more excited over the portraits I made out of pistachio shells, the kitchen sponge and dental floss.."
Mom: "Hee! Those were so adorable! You were such a creative child."
Me: "...."

The moral of this story? Parent's are insane. And like cheese. A lot.

Vector-y Goodness

2005-03-15T12:06:00.000-05:00

I've admitted that I'm horribly addicted to Photoshop. This is true and has not yet changed. But there was always one thing I was reluctant to try. Vector drawing. It just seemed too complicated, to be honest. If I want to draw a curved line, why can't I just draw the bloody curved line? I shouldn't need anchor points. I don't sketch with anchor points! So I avoided the whole mess. For many, many years.

I decided to give it a go last night. Why last night? I don't know. But I should remember to never start projects after midnight. The first one didn't take very long, but the second took me nearly two hours. It was nearly 4 A.M. before I got to bed.

I kept the first simple..

Yes, eyes. What else were you expecting?

I got a bit more complicated with the second...

Not too shabby for my second go, eh?

I have a new addiction.

Top 5

2005-03-14T16:18:00.000-05:00

I like making lists. It's almost a disorder.

Top 5 Things Running Through My Head Right Now (in no particular order):

I'm so going to kill The Boy for his laziness.
I wonder if it's abnormal to think that you will be hacked to death by a giggling clown weilding an ax..
Brittany Murphy looks so cute now that she's de-skankified herself.
A Wrinkle in Time ended much too abruptly for my satisfaction.
I probably shouldn't obsess so much over Lost.

Top 5 Albums (this week, anyway, and in no particular order):

Stories From the City, Stories From the Sea-- PJ Harvey
No Wow-- The Kills
Soviet Kitsch-- Regina Spektor
Nouvelle Vague-- Nouvelle Vague
So Jealous-- Tegan & Sara

Top 5 Favorite Books (also in no particular order):

Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass-- Lewis Carroll
American Gods-- Neil Gaiman
Maze: Solve the World's Most Challenging Puzzle-- Christopher Manson
Good Omens-- Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman
Invisible Monsters-- Chuck Palahniuk

Top 5 Movies (as is above, so is below):

Top 5 Favorite Foods (you know the drill by now, don't you?):

Stuffed grape leaves (a.k.a., dolmades)
Godiva anything
Tiramisu
Tabouli (I lurve Mediterranean food)
Cake (vague, I know, but I can't narrow it down further than that)

Any of these are, of course, subject to change at a moment's notice or whenever the wind changes direction or I have a whim.

Kids Are Cruel

2005-03-13T16:10:00.000-05:00

Mom: "No more cake. I need to lose ten pounds."

The Boy: "Yeah, you really do.."

Mom: "Ouch!"

Me: "How many grandmas do you think look as good as her?"

The Girl: "I don't know. Tons, at least.."

Mom: "Ugh.."

Me: "They really are cruel, aren't they?"

Busy, Tired and Possibly Dead

2005-03-13T12:37:00.000-05:00

So much to do, not enough energy to do it. I really need to be a good girl and get to sleep at a half-way decent hour. So, in lieu of an actual post, I'll lamely-- and very shamelessly-- plug the other blog.

I suck, I know.

Ahem.

So, over at Inferior Ink, we've had quite a nice week. We've each submitted our bits of atrocious writing. Of course, the actual writer had to struggle to write badly. I didn't. I'm naturally sucky. We also had a submission! How very exciting! (I was lenient since it was our only submission and he's working at central time, whilst I'm plugging away at eastern.) I even posted this week's theme. I'm going to have fun with this one. Go on over and read, point and laugh, comment, submit, whatever.

And so ends the shameless plug. Off I go to make some cabbage rolls.

Marathon Mom

2005-03-12T20:18:00.000-05:00

Part of this is my own fault. I know this. I know I didn't have to-- nor should I have-- stayed up until 4 AM talking music with J. Part of that was because I had a song stuck in my head all day and had to listen to it on repeat to get over it. It wasn't even a whole song, just a bitty part of the song. I don't even know how the song got lodged into my brain like that in the first place. It was the darnedest thing. I haven't even listened to Siouxsie and the Banshees in god knows how long, and now I have "Peek-a-Boo"-- but just the "Peeeeeeeeeeeeek-a-boo!" part-- slowly driving me insane. It's such a catchy song.

So when I woke up-- very late, mind you-- with the kids-- early birds, both of them; don't know where they got that from-- once again fighting, I wasn't a happy camper. But I got up anyway. Lots to do an' all. I make sure the kids are fed. For some reason, on the weekends only, they feel the need to eat two breakfasts each. One when they first get up-- at whatever god forsaken hour that is-- and another later on when the rest of us rise from the dead. I tell them to get dressed and get ready, we need to go, go, go.

An hour later, The Boy decides that because it's around lunchtime, he must eat lunch. I tell him, once again, that he shouldn't eat by the clock, he insists that he's really hungry. I make lunch. I get ready. I wait. And wait. And wait some more. Before we get to the door, The Girl runs to the bathroom. Eventually, about 3 hours later than I'd intended, we set out for the library.

I pick up a book. The kids pick up some books. The Girl got lost a grand total of four times in the library. It's not a large library. But then, she gets lost in the house, too. I worry about the child. This time, The Boy runs to the bathroom.

We have to stop at Macys so I can get this face cream. It's the only thing that keeps my face from seriously freaking out. I cut back on it and got these huge welts on my throat. You know you look bad when you show your mom your welts and she flinches. Yes, this is the woman who had oozing blisters on both hands for several weeks, but she flinches from your welts. You really know it's bad when she offers to buy the cream for you. You need the cream. The cream was bought. The Boy decided to almost get hit by a car and complained when I yanked him to safety. I know there's not enough yoga in the world to help me deal with my family and this is very likely why I have big, nasty welts on my throat.

Next is food shopping. The Girl knocks down a huge display. I manage to reassemble it, all the while cursing under my breath and shooting poisonous looks at The Girl when she offers "helpful" suggestions. My mother yanks The Girl to safety and asks her if she has a death wish. We then ponder if they warn people in advance when we come to the store because she either knocks displays over or drops something and makes a large mess every friggin week. Now she whines that she needs to go to the bathroom again. It's been exactly one hour since she last went and she's had nothing to drink. I feel that familiar throbbing pain in my head. I send The Boy with her so she doesn't get lost. Again. I hate getting paged in the store.

We make it home. The kids are in one piece, but just barely, and my mom and I have matching headaches. But I found Black Jack gum! I'm really excited about that.

This is my growly face..

2005-03-11T12:52:00.000-05:00

Because Blooooooooger is still misbehaving.

And don't tell me to switch to Haloscan. I looked them over before and wasn't impressed. I also won't switch over because this has become a matter of principle. Yes, I know I always say that when I've decided to become bull-headedly stubborn. I'm determined to make Bloooooooooooooooooooooooger work! It will bend to my will, dammit!

Don't make me pout and throw a fit, Bloooooooooooooooooooooooooooger. No one wants to see that. And stop sending me to your status page and your known issues page. You haven't updated in almost a month. I checked. I always check. I don't send in complaints all willy nilly. I research beforehand. Is it really so hard to keep these pages up-to-date? I think not.

And also? I'm irked by the lack of user stats updates. I thought that problem was going to be resolved, like, last year? Because I'm quite sure I've written more than 117 posts. I also know that my most recent posts were not in November. I know this because I sit here click-clacking away at my computer at least daily. So, if you could, fix that!

I'm sure there's a 12 year old out there somewhere who can fix all of this shit in a day or less.

Dear Survivors...

2005-03-11T10:46:00.000-05:00

Dear Angie,

Girl, I'm so proud of you! You've been kicking so much ass. You're still my favorite, though, so here's some advice. This is Survivor, you can't kick too much ass or your ass will be gone come merge time. Also? Your team sucks. Really. You're being picked off one at a time. It's sad. You'd better hope they mix up the teams soon or you'll be going. That would make me unhappy.

Don't worry about your victory cry not making sense. I was still behind you with "Yeah! You got that?! In your face!" Because you just stomped your competition. And get rid of Bobby Jon and James. They irk me and you could probably benchpress them. Or, better yet, find a way to get on the other team. You and Ian would make a cute couple. He looks much better on tv than he does on his photo.

Taking the names for you,
R

***

Dear Ian,

You're a geek. And you kick ass. I adore you. Why do you always look like you're wearing lipstick in your photos? And also, the hair? Not loving the bangs, hon. I covet your glasses, though.

I <3 geeks,
R

P.S. Psst! Check out Angie!

***

Dear Tom,

Grrrowr.

Really.

Don't usually go for older guys, but willing to make an exception,
R

***

Dear James,

Why must you soil a perfectly good name? Why do you have to be such an ignorant hick? I cheered so hard when Coby kicked your ass. "Hairdresser" indeed!

I think I hate you,
R

***

Dear Coby,

Loving you! Keep kicking redneck ass!

Smooches,
R

Waiting for the anvil...

2005-03-10T14:38:00.000-05:00

Dear Blooooooger,

Please get your ass in gear and work properly already. Also? Update your status page. And your known issues page. I'm tired of my comments not working. I'm also sick of having to save my posts in notepad because I don't know what your mood will be like today.

Not your red headed step-child,
R

The Kids' Latest Get-Rich-Quick Scheme

2005-03-09T15:20:00.000-05:00

The Girl: "If we mail this all around the world, we'll be rich!"

The Boy: "Can't we just email it?"

Me: "You can't email an actual object."

The Girl: "Yeah! And I don't think other countries have computers.."

Me: "Of course they do!"

The Boy: "Yeah! I'm pretty sure Australia has them.."

Like Topsy, it grew...

2005-03-09T13:51:00.000-05:00

It was only supposed to be one man. A long-time friend of my father's, in the country for a brief period of time, was to be invited to the house for dinner. Simple enough, even with the odd dietary restriction. "No onions. He hates onions," I was told. That's fine. I can adapt, even though I put garlic and onions in nearly everything I cook, and find something suitable for the meal.

Then the friend's family member was invited. Again, no biggie. I can stretch a meal for yet another person. No problem.

Then two uncles were invited. Ok, I'll scrap that meal and come up with something else. I'll set up the gentlemen at the dining room table and we'll eat in the kitchen. Not a problem. I can do this.

Now there are eight people coming. Eight. How did this happen? "Your father doesn't have people over that often, we'll manage," says mom. Fine, but eight? I don't have people over often either, but you don't see me going from one person to eight in less than a week. But fine, I'll deal. I need to plan a larger dessert. Don't complain about my grumbling.

"So you're telling me that it's moved up 2 days and now in the afternoon?" Many swears were muttered. There was also some growling. I get to not only deal with two very hyper children just coming home from school, but eight hungry men. On top of that, I have to get the kids ready early for their dance class later on. And we do know how nasty father dear gets when his food isn't served exactly at the time specified. This will not be a good day. I expect screaming and tears and a whole lot of swearing.

"Oh, he's decided that I'm to make the tiramisu now? When was he planning on telling me this?" At this point, I'm seriously considering running away. At least for that day. Dearest father keeps changing things in the menu and not telling me. I wonder if the day will end in a homicide. Who will play the body?

I'm very much dreading this Friday.

The Toilet Book

2005-03-08T20:53:00.000-05:00

After realizing that the girl had been in the bathroom for a half hour-- I only realized this because she hadn't kissed me good night and it was awfully quiet in the house-- I go to check on her.

Me: "You ok in there?"

The Girl: "Uh huh! I'm fine!"

Me: "What are you doing? I'm coming in."

The Girl: "I'm...brushing my teeth!"

Me: "You lie."

I open the door and find...a book. I look at her, I look at the book, I look back at her.

Me: "You were reading?"

The Girl: "Uh..."

Me: "In the bathroom?"

The Girl: "Well..."

Me: "Are you your grandpa suddenly? What's up with this?"

The Girl: "I was looking at it and brushing my teeth.."

Me: "But you only started putting toothpaste on your brush.."

The Girl: "I got distracted!"

Me: "So you got distracted yesterday, too?"

Dooce? Rocks!

2005-03-08T19:10:00.000-05:00

Dooce (and friends) totally kick ass and take names.

All I can say about the man in question, jackson.matt@att.net, is that maybe he should put some money aside for therapy 'cause-- whoa, Nelly!-- his mom did a number on him. I'd almost pity him if he weren't such a complete asshole.

Snow. Ice. HATE.

2005-03-08T15:57:00.000-05:00

Yesterday was a lovely day. Nice and sunny. Very spring-like weather. The temperature hovered somewhere in the low 50s (around 10 C). I opened the windows and aired out the house. It was marvelous. Booboo was extremely excited to be sitting on his window seat and feel the wind blow through his fur. Oh, how I miss yesterday.

Today is hell frozen over. It's windy, snowy, icy and icky. I'm not happy. I've heard nothing but sirens all day. No one was expecting this. Light snow and rain, my ass. Everyone's home and staying home. It's not safe with all of the ice on the roads and all of the cars slipping and smacking into each other. The worst part? The shoveling that will have to be done. There isn't enough snow out there for the snow blower. And the wind is insane. My poor cheeks will receive a beating from the snow being whipped at them. At least I'll be getting some exercise. Something I haven't been getting lately.

On a cheerier note: I couldn't resist. I already posted my bit of bad writing over at Inferior Ink. The deadline's Saturday, I know. Not rushing anyone else. I just had to post. Had to.

Amused

2005-03-07T23:39:00.000-05:00

A snippet of conversation from earlier today..

Me: Did you check out my post?

J: i can't believe you won two cereal contests

That's right, folks. Out of all of the things on that list, that is what amazed him. Ok, granted, he'd already heard the flashing story, and the mafia story, and the cinderblock story and the SNL story-- which he loves telling people more than I do, but don't listen to him 'cause he lies-- but the cereal contests? I'm scratching my head at that one.

Another Meme

2005-03-07T13:15:00.000-05:00

Stolen, yet again, from Michelle.

Ten things I have done that you probably have not:

Accidentally flashed a crew of construction workers. (Yes, it was a complete accident!)
Had a slight run-in with the Russian mafia.
Had a moon-eyed skinhead attempt to woo me.
Went to college that had around 400 students. Total. All women. (Well, except for that one guy but he was so-and-so's boy toy so he didn't really count.)
Had my portrait painted in Moscow.
Was almost crushed by a falling cinderblock. (Pretty sure it was pushed off of building. Quite sure it was intended for someone else even though it almost hit me.)
Met two minor SNL alums in one night.
Knew a kid-- went to my high school and had just asked out a friend the week before-- who was killed in a bizarre cult ritual.
Have been on the news. (The story wasn't about me, it was about a freak accident that lead to a person's death. I was in the background while another student at my school was interviewed.)
Have won two cereal contests-- Life and Captain Crunch-- and received $100 from each. (I don't like either cereal. I nagged my mom to buy them just for the contests alone-- which she swore I'd never win. I told her I'd not only win, but that'd I'd compensate her for the cereal. I love being able to say "I told you so!")

That was a lot harder than I thought it would be. It also makes me realize that my life is a lot weirder than I'd previously thought.

What could that be?

2005-03-06T19:22:00.000-05:00

Is it our very first theme for our very first bad writing exercise?

Why I think it is! Check it out!

Those 7 Deadly Sins

2005-03-06T13:21:00.000-05:00

Michelle brought up the topic of sins which got me thinking. Yes, I know that thinking-- for me, anyway-- is usually a bad thing, but I had to seriously consider which sins I'm really guilty of. And it's a convenient blog topic for when you've got nothing else on the burner.

So we have the sins (in alphabetical order since I can't help myself): Envy, Gluttony, Greed, Lust, Pride, Sloth, and Wrath. Let's consider each one, shall we? (All definitions from m-w.com.)

Envy- painful or resentful awareness of an advantage enjoyed by another joined with a desire to possess the same advantage. (I'm probably least guilty of this sin. I don't tend to resent people for having something I want. I also don't get jealous easily. This has been a big problem in most of my relationships, oddly enough. I have been known to say "I wish I could ______ as well as ______", so I guess that would count as envy minus the painful or resentful awareness.)
Gluttony- excess in eating or drinking. (Oh, boy. I'm in trouble here. Not so much anymore, but very guilty of it in my younger years. I was very fond of excessive behavior back then. Something I've said: "Better buy two pints of the Godiva ice cream, I'm so inhaling that one tonight.")
Greed- excessive or reprehensible acquisitiveness. (I've been known to be greedy. I like stuff. I like having stuff. I like buying stuff. I want more stuff. I'm always saying "Isn't this cute?! I have to have it!")
Lust- usually intense or unbridled sexual desire. (Yikes. Seriously guilty of this one. Not only is my crush list at least a mile long, it's growing daily. Something I've said: "Grrowr! _______ is nummy!" And I have gotten very graphic, but won't do so here.)
Pride- proud or disdainful behavior or treatment. (I'm extraordinarily arrogant. I know it. I try to temper it. I've said: "I am a goddess! Bow before me and worship at my feet.")
Sloth- disinclination to action or labor. (Oh, hell, yeah. I'm lazy. I'm very lazy. This doesn't mean I'm not active. I've been known to buzz about in a flurry of activity, but then come the very long periods of rest. I'm ashamed to admit that I've said "I can find the remote and don't feel like getting up to change the channel." when asked why I was watching crap on tv.)
Wrath- strong vengeful anger or indignation. (Very guilty of this. Again, mostly in my younger years. I have said: "I will hurt you. A lot. And then? I will kill you. And then I will laugh. I will laugh and I will point and point and laugh. Because I hate you so very much. And also? You suck.")

I'm so going to hell, but I already knew that.

All Done!

2005-03-06T09:26:00.000-05:00

All of the interviews are done and up! Yay! This was a fun little side project that I might attempt once again in the future.

Rory's interview answers are up here.
J's are over here.
Rachel's are sitting pretty over here.
Viv's are hangin' over here.
platinumgirl's are over in My Interview comments. (Questions from my interview were provided by Edana.)

Read. Enjoy. Say "hi!" and get interviewed yourself. It's fun.

Heartless Bastards

2005-03-05T19:21:00.000-05:00

A conversation with much disliked manager from music store disguising himself as mountain man today...

Manager: "Hi! Can I help you with anything?"

Me: "Uh, yeah. I can't find Heartless Bastards.." I quickly tell The Girl to not go around saying that.

Manager: "Pardon?"

Me: "I was looking in the H section, but they're not there.."

Manager: "Who?"

Me: Big sigh because I know how bad this sounds. "Heartless Bastards. I can't quite remember the name of the album. I think there was something about stairs and elevators or something." (Note: The album's name is Stairs and Elevators. D'oh!)

Manager: "Are you serious?"

Me: "Yes. I'm a bit too old for prank jokes, don't you think?"

Turns out they didn't have them after all. I didn't overlook them as I sometimes tend to do because I'm far too impatient to rifle through everything. But I got Donnie Darko- The Director's Cut, so it's all good.