Yeah, I finally got around to updating my book thingy...
You know, I can't even remember if I have read anything else since I updated...and I am pretty sure I have watched a ton of stuff....
I sadly finished the entire Veronica Mars series and am really bummed there is no fourth season. But I hear that there may be a movie coming out...so Logan...here I come...even if you are a Scientologist...at least you aren't Tom Cruise, and perhaps you could do something to help free Katie???
I also finished Weeds up to the fourth season, but haven't tried to hard to find that yet, I was starting to not like drug dealer mommy...but love the brother in law, he made the show.
I finished Six Feet Under...and all I have to say is...WOW, best series finale EVER. It truly was a masterpiece. Loved it.
Other than that, I have been trying to beat my bowling scores on Wii...which I need to stop because it is getting in the way of my reading...but boy is it addictive!
Thursday, January 22, 2009
The Firing Squad
OK, so in what seems like a moment of temporary insanity, I was talked into running for the new school board...or new RSU board as it happens.
No one is running against me, and it is a job that no one wants…so needless to say, if I don’t get elected, I am ending my political career right here!
Last night they had a “meet the candidate night.” This would be where they put you on TV and ask you poignant questions about your vision for the schools and the future of the RSU…yeah…I know…what was I thinking????
All was well until half way through I looked down and realized that the “snack” I had for dinner in between work (my illustrious library sub career) and this meeting had fallen on my sweater. I tried to zip up my cardigan a little, but it still showed. I decided that the cameras weren’t close up anyway, no big deal… wrong…as I discovered later I was in the picture the whole time and that it was very close up and focused on my fidgeting.
Then my tights kept catching on the wooden desk, and I got a splinter in my thigh half way through the questioning…there is no dainty way to get a splinter out of your leg, much less address the situation in a skirt in front of everyone. I hunched a bit to try and make my legs fit under the desk a little, but then realized that the cameras were on me and I was all slumped in my chair looking like a lump of oatmeal, not to mention the 10 pounds that were being added to my already 20 pound over the limit butt.
This was a lot to think about when you are trying to answer questions about our children’s futures.*
By the time I was done I felt like a 5 year old with my feet swinging from the chair out side the principals office in trouble for smacking someone in the head with a truck…(not that that ever happened…Ok, so it did. But Jason Seaver TOTALLY deserved it, because he put gum in my hair during circle time and also called me a ski slope nose…which if you have ever seen me…I totally don’t have…it is more like a witches nose…with a lump in the middle, but that was from an unfortunate accident with a pillar in front of my high school…)
I made it through the questions, fairly unscathed and since no one wants this job anyway. I suppose now, this wise assed, snarky, mom is going to be on a school board…I guess you may want to take that as a warning for those of you in my area…run, run like the wind I tell you!
* Rest assured, I was a teacher in my past life, and the three kids in my house keep telling me I am their mother, so I promise, some good will come from this debacle I have gotten myself into.
No one is running against me, and it is a job that no one wants…so needless to say, if I don’t get elected, I am ending my political career right here!
Last night they had a “meet the candidate night.” This would be where they put you on TV and ask you poignant questions about your vision for the schools and the future of the RSU…yeah…I know…what was I thinking????
All was well until half way through I looked down and realized that the “snack” I had for dinner in between work (my illustrious library sub career) and this meeting had fallen on my sweater. I tried to zip up my cardigan a little, but it still showed. I decided that the cameras weren’t close up anyway, no big deal… wrong…as I discovered later I was in the picture the whole time and that it was very close up and focused on my fidgeting.
Then my tights kept catching on the wooden desk, and I got a splinter in my thigh half way through the questioning…there is no dainty way to get a splinter out of your leg, much less address the situation in a skirt in front of everyone. I hunched a bit to try and make my legs fit under the desk a little, but then realized that the cameras were on me and I was all slumped in my chair looking like a lump of oatmeal, not to mention the 10 pounds that were being added to my already 20 pound over the limit butt.
This was a lot to think about when you are trying to answer questions about our children’s futures.*
By the time I was done I felt like a 5 year old with my feet swinging from the chair out side the principals office in trouble for smacking someone in the head with a truck…(not that that ever happened…Ok, so it did. But Jason Seaver TOTALLY deserved it, because he put gum in my hair during circle time and also called me a ski slope nose…which if you have ever seen me…I totally don’t have…it is more like a witches nose…with a lump in the middle, but that was from an unfortunate accident with a pillar in front of my high school…)
I made it through the questions, fairly unscathed and since no one wants this job anyway. I suppose now, this wise assed, snarky, mom is going to be on a school board…I guess you may want to take that as a warning for those of you in my area…run, run like the wind I tell you!
* Rest assured, I was a teacher in my past life, and the three kids in my house keep telling me I am their mother, so I promise, some good will come from this debacle I have gotten myself into.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Plague Sets In
I am getting close to calling a Haz-Mat team to come and blow up my house because clearly there is something living in it that has waged war against my family.
I have recovered...after 2.5 weeks of feverish hell, but now my two youngest have it, Caroline has averaged 101 fevers for a week now. Bad part is, she feels pretty OK. But I can't rightfully send her to school with a fever and a cough that sounds like she is coughing up small school children each time she starts hacking. So alas, I have her at home.
But because she doesn’t feel all that horrible, she is bored, which leads to her being rambunctious…which leads to a coughing fit, which leads to my “outside voice” telling her to calm down and lay down. It’s a bad cycle that should be broken.
Speaking of bad cycles, the boy is getting all too used to having his sister around as his playmate. We all know that my son is… well…not the most inspired individual. (He missed the gumption train all together.) So having his sister as a permanent playmate with nothing to do but sit around the house is totally his cup of tea.
I think that the boy will be the inventor of Adult diapers that automatically change themselves, so that all he has to do in his future, is lay on one of those couches with the built in coolers in the arm, and flick channels without having to be bothered to, you know, go to the bathroom…who has time for that when there is so much laziness to be had? I will let it be known, that it will NOT BE IN MY BASEMENT…
So as I am held hostage in my house for week 4, I write to the outside world in desperation…and if there is a report of distress signals in the form of smoke coming from a house in Maine, you will know I have hit a wall…most likely with my head…repeatedly…
I have recovered...after 2.5 weeks of feverish hell, but now my two youngest have it, Caroline has averaged 101 fevers for a week now. Bad part is, she feels pretty OK. But I can't rightfully send her to school with a fever and a cough that sounds like she is coughing up small school children each time she starts hacking. So alas, I have her at home.
But because she doesn’t feel all that horrible, she is bored, which leads to her being rambunctious…which leads to a coughing fit, which leads to my “outside voice” telling her to calm down and lay down. It’s a bad cycle that should be broken.
Speaking of bad cycles, the boy is getting all too used to having his sister around as his playmate. We all know that my son is… well…not the most inspired individual. (He missed the gumption train all together.) So having his sister as a permanent playmate with nothing to do but sit around the house is totally his cup of tea.
I think that the boy will be the inventor of Adult diapers that automatically change themselves, so that all he has to do in his future, is lay on one of those couches with the built in coolers in the arm, and flick channels without having to be bothered to, you know, go to the bathroom…who has time for that when there is so much laziness to be had? I will let it be known, that it will NOT BE IN MY BASEMENT…
So as I am held hostage in my house for week 4, I write to the outside world in desperation…and if there is a report of distress signals in the form of smoke coming from a house in Maine, you will know I have hit a wall…most likely with my head…repeatedly…
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Ode to a Toilet Bowl
I can't be sure, but I am fairly positive that when I dreamed of my future when I was a child, I never envisioned jumping up and down in a bathroom singing "poo poo, poo poo lets do the poo poo dance"
I am also confident that I never in my life imagined that I would stare into a toilet bowl with the kind of anticipation and excitement that seems to follow me into the bathroom these days as I travel the hard, uphill, rocky, mount Kilimanjaro trek that toilet training a bull headed, scared to poop, boy is.
But alas, it is the small things in life…like making it until 1:23 with out having to clean out underwear! It is the small things like not having the crying fit wondering if Henry will have to find a special kind of date to prom that will not mind bringing wipes and a pull-up for him in her tiny prom purse.
I realize that this is entirely too hopeful, and I know that I will likely have many more pairs of underwear to clean out, but for now, I am just going to jump up and down and sing the poo poo song for a little while.
You know, most people are excited for inaugurations, and weddings and engagements this weekend…I am just going to settle for a little bit of poop….ahhhh the life of a mom, ain’t it grand……
I am also confident that I never in my life imagined that I would stare into a toilet bowl with the kind of anticipation and excitement that seems to follow me into the bathroom these days as I travel the hard, uphill, rocky, mount Kilimanjaro trek that toilet training a bull headed, scared to poop, boy is.
But alas, it is the small things in life…like making it until 1:23 with out having to clean out underwear! It is the small things like not having the crying fit wondering if Henry will have to find a special kind of date to prom that will not mind bringing wipes and a pull-up for him in her tiny prom purse.
I realize that this is entirely too hopeful, and I know that I will likely have many more pairs of underwear to clean out, but for now, I am just going to jump up and down and sing the poo poo song for a little while.
You know, most people are excited for inaugurations, and weddings and engagements this weekend…I am just going to settle for a little bit of poop….ahhhh the life of a mom, ain’t it grand……
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
A Vision in Yoga Pants
I realized yesterday when I was sitting at the dinner table and Caroline said to me, “Are you wearing mascara?” in a bit of an astonished tone, and I had to sadly admit that yeah, but it was probably left over from the day before when I had gone to work, that perhaps I have not looked, well, up to par lately.
Yes, it is true, I am woman enough to admit it, daily cleanliness seemed to have taken a low priority for me while I was sick. It was just too much effort to peel my nasty self off my couch of death to do anything much less wash my hair.
I had to work on Monday night, so I showered and dutifully put on girl clothes. As I came down stairs to say goodbye, I thought my kids were going to fall out of their skin. Caroline actually said “Are you going to a dance or something?”
OK, now seriously, it isn’t like I NEVER wear girl clothes, but I realize that sadly, for the past two weeks I have worn the same yoga pants and sweatshirt so much that they are standing up in the corner of my room like a suit of armor in a castle.
I should have realized this when I did laundry for the first time in two weeks and there was nothing of mine in it.
SO, today I am going to try walking on a treadmill and see if my lungs hold up, and then…yes folks, I am going to get in HOT water, and actually wash my face, my hair, and then…wait for it…if I am still feeling so inspired…I might actually dry my hair with a hair dryer so that I will stop scaring the neighbor kids with my Sid Vicious look a like hair.
I know, I know, Aim for the stars… Aim for the stars!
Yes, it is true, I am woman enough to admit it, daily cleanliness seemed to have taken a low priority for me while I was sick. It was just too much effort to peel my nasty self off my couch of death to do anything much less wash my hair.
I had to work on Monday night, so I showered and dutifully put on girl clothes. As I came down stairs to say goodbye, I thought my kids were going to fall out of their skin. Caroline actually said “Are you going to a dance or something?”
OK, now seriously, it isn’t like I NEVER wear girl clothes, but I realize that sadly, for the past two weeks I have worn the same yoga pants and sweatshirt so much that they are standing up in the corner of my room like a suit of armor in a castle.
I should have realized this when I did laundry for the first time in two weeks and there was nothing of mine in it.
SO, today I am going to try walking on a treadmill and see if my lungs hold up, and then…yes folks, I am going to get in HOT water, and actually wash my face, my hair, and then…wait for it…if I am still feeling so inspired…I might actually dry my hair with a hair dryer so that I will stop scaring the neighbor kids with my Sid Vicious look a like hair.
I know, I know, Aim for the stars… Aim for the stars!
Friday, January 9, 2009
A Bit of Sap From the Couch of Death...
This is for my close friends. The ones who know the ins and outs of my everyday struggles, who hold me up when I need to be held up, or bawl me out when I need that too, because I often do.
Who have always been there for me, even when I didn't ask, (because they know I won't,) but barge into my life with their arms out and a bottle of wine, ready for the task that lies ahead. Whether it is just listening, holding me up, laughing with me, or just making sure that I am OK.
It is for those of you that care about the menial everyday of my existence, because you understand that is what makes up bigger picture.
It is for my friends who just know when I am drowning, (because I will never tell you,) and offers me a life raft. You don't question why I don't call for help, you just know I don't, and offer it to me anyway.
It is also for those that have been my friends in the past, my Theta sisters, and my friends at a distance, who may be on the periphery for some reason or another, but are still there. I cherish each of your presence in my life, because it has made it richer and more meaningful.
A friend sent this to me, and it made me cry, not just the words, but that she thought of ME when she listened to them. I am grateful not only for her being in my life, but for me being able to be that person in hers.
I am grateful for all the women in my life, family and friends, who make me stronger, smarter, funnier, more accessible, more human and more alive.
This reminded me WHY I was a Women’s Studies major!
Who have always been there for me, even when I didn't ask, (because they know I won't,) but barge into my life with their arms out and a bottle of wine, ready for the task that lies ahead. Whether it is just listening, holding me up, laughing with me, or just making sure that I am OK.
It is for those of you that care about the menial everyday of my existence, because you understand that is what makes up bigger picture.
It is for my friends who just know when I am drowning, (because I will never tell you,) and offers me a life raft. You don't question why I don't call for help, you just know I don't, and offer it to me anyway.
It is also for those that have been my friends in the past, my Theta sisters, and my friends at a distance, who may be on the periphery for some reason or another, but are still there. I cherish each of your presence in my life, because it has made it richer and more meaningful.
A friend sent this to me, and it made me cry, not just the words, but that she thought of ME when she listened to them. I am grateful not only for her being in my life, but for me being able to be that person in hers.
I am grateful for all the women in my life, family and friends, who make me stronger, smarter, funnier, more accessible, more human and more alive.
This reminded me WHY I was a Women’s Studies major!
The Couch of Death
No I have not gotten lost in Caroline’s room, fallen under a large piece of furniture, or even finally lost the battle to the militant dust bunnies that for years have been gathering strength in numbers under my living room couch...I have been laying on my "couch of death."
The Saturday night after Christmas, I kissed my loving husband goodnight, and said "I am getting sick, I can feel it."
I will never utter those words again, because apparently they are the key words that open a crevice in the earth to let out the wrath of germ warfare. I woke the next day with a raging fever, and what I can only describe as a tribe of ice picks having a luau in my chest...I am fairly sure that at one point they were doing the lung limbo, but one is never sure of these things with out an at home X-ray machine.
Needless to say, my doctor was on vacation, and her substitute must have had me black listed because he refused to see me twice....
Dr. Major from York Hospital...you are definitely going somewhere HOT in the afterlife for this tryst of yours, I am writing a personal recommendation.
My husband, who in general is the boy scout of peacemakers, actually called and got mad because I was lying in a puddle on our couch crying and saying “just kill me, seriously, make it quick and just do me in.” He fussed at the doctors office for putting him in a place of such temptation…there should be laws about that kind of thing.
I had an interview on Monday the 5th…surely I would be better by then…RIGHT? It was over a week away.
NOPE, I went to my interview with a 101.8 fever, and feeling like breathing was a little more exercise then I really needed…But I coughed through it and haven’t heard anything…I am guessing a sweaty hacking person in a business suit doesn’t impress much…but you never know!
I am glad to say that my Dr. came back from vacation and took me in, and gave me lots of medicine…antibiotics, cough medicine with Codeine, inhalers…I didn’t bother to tell her that she should be giving me a script for house cleaners and cooks, since it was her cohorts fault that it was all I could do to muster the energy to open my eyes, and my family was drowning in dirty underwear.
So I took to my couch, where I have peeled off now and again to feed the kids or some other menial task, I haven’t written…but I am back.
Still hacking, still a tad feverish….2 flippin’ weeks later, but I figure at some point one of us, either the germs or me will have to give in…until then, I miss being sarcastic and snarky, so I will just have to hack through some typing.
Happy Freaking New Year to you all!
The Saturday night after Christmas, I kissed my loving husband goodnight, and said "I am getting sick, I can feel it."
I will never utter those words again, because apparently they are the key words that open a crevice in the earth to let out the wrath of germ warfare. I woke the next day with a raging fever, and what I can only describe as a tribe of ice picks having a luau in my chest...I am fairly sure that at one point they were doing the lung limbo, but one is never sure of these things with out an at home X-ray machine.
Needless to say, my doctor was on vacation, and her substitute must have had me black listed because he refused to see me twice....
Dr. Major from York Hospital...you are definitely going somewhere HOT in the afterlife for this tryst of yours, I am writing a personal recommendation.
My husband, who in general is the boy scout of peacemakers, actually called and got mad because I was lying in a puddle on our couch crying and saying “just kill me, seriously, make it quick and just do me in.” He fussed at the doctors office for putting him in a place of such temptation…there should be laws about that kind of thing.
I had an interview on Monday the 5th…surely I would be better by then…RIGHT? It was over a week away.
NOPE, I went to my interview with a 101.8 fever, and feeling like breathing was a little more exercise then I really needed…But I coughed through it and haven’t heard anything…I am guessing a sweaty hacking person in a business suit doesn’t impress much…but you never know!
I am glad to say that my Dr. came back from vacation and took me in, and gave me lots of medicine…antibiotics, cough medicine with Codeine, inhalers…I didn’t bother to tell her that she should be giving me a script for house cleaners and cooks, since it was her cohorts fault that it was all I could do to muster the energy to open my eyes, and my family was drowning in dirty underwear.
So I took to my couch, where I have peeled off now and again to feed the kids or some other menial task, I haven’t written…but I am back.
Still hacking, still a tad feverish….2 flippin’ weeks later, but I figure at some point one of us, either the germs or me will have to give in…until then, I miss being sarcastic and snarky, so I will just have to hack through some typing.
Happy Freaking New Year to you all!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
.jpg)