You can't buy me, Love!

Once upon a time, a man named Jack decided to buy a new house.

Big isn't it?

Being the Co-president of a corporation, he was tired of living in an "established" neighborhood with big trees and plenty of shade.

 Poor guy.

Furthermore, he had obnoxious neighbors who were always showing off their gorgeous gardens, perfectly paved sidewalks and luxurious circle drive.

 How annoying!

But, believe it or not! Poor Jack, didn't even have it the toughest. (He was able to buy a brand new house, at least) His colleague, Elmer, the piddly, little vice-resident, had troubles of his own. He lived in a subdivision so far out that not even the Google Car will drive down his street.

 Look at all that land.

Elmer's poor little subdivision had tiny, little houses in it, that he had to drive by in order to get to his own house which was set way back, from the non-busy road. 

 What an eye sore!

 It's so bad for this poor guy that sometimes in the summer, just to escape the reality of his life, he sleeps on his boat and tries to forget about all those ugly houses where those people live who can only afford jet-skis.

So, when the pions that work for poor Jack and poor Elmer ask for raises so that they can afford a decent education for themselves and their children, Jack and Elmer have no choice but to turn them down. How could they be expected to make any kind of sacrifices. Imagine having to look at a nicer house than yours every time you leave your driveway or worse yet, not having a boat to escape to, six months out of the year.

Can you imagine?

I'm Tired!

So, I've been staying up way too late trying to finish the first season of Dexter. That show is a TRIP! And it kinda makes me nauseous. I even dream about it at night, trying to figure out little mysteries within the season, looking for patterns, trying to predict future conflicts. Some of the writing doesn't cut it for me, but the premise is fantastic. Gruesome, but almost gruesomely wholesome.

Anyway, the Solstice was fantastic! I'm still on bread and have started a Paint-by-Numbers. I am addicted to it! I thought it would drive me crazy until it was finished but I'm really enjoying the process. I'll load progress pictures whenever I can.

My kids are getting on my nerves. I'm ready for a little me time. So, I think tomorrow we'll go to the gym. It's not that they aren't well behaved. They just have a tendency to be right up my butt all the time. Every five minutes they need something from me... even when they need nothing from me, they come up with something they need. I know I will miss spending time with them when we all go back to school so I try to play some games with them or color or take an interest in what they are doing, but even that is starting to backfire. I give them an inch and they're begging for 5 more miles. The house is a disaster. That always adds to my bad moods. I think we need an overhaul... or a Uhaul.

In the meantime, enjoy a little home video. No! It's not dirty! My son is interested in stop-motion and we were explaining the concept. Finally we just decided to make a movie.

Here it is:

Merry Solstice!

I am having so much fun this holiday season. I've wrapped bunches of gifts and made so many loads of pumpkin bread and chocolate dipped goodies that my head spins when I walk into the kitchen. I was called by my Uncle last night. He is my god-father and is, in many ways, more of a father figure than my father is or ever was. We talked for a half an hour about his holiday baking. He makes a spread, every year, that puts mine to shame. He makes three different kind of spritz cookies in the shape of Christmas Trees(red, green and white ones), these little short bread balls covered in powdered sugar, chocolate truffles (that are to die for), at least two other kinds that he varies, and now he makes these cookies called Springerles. I call them our heirloom cookie because my grandfather used to make them every year, one of the ingredients is hard to find and you need a special press that is being passed down in the family. He promised to send me the recipe.


We almost had a Christmas "Awakening" of sorts last night when my son, who couldn't sleep, came to find me in my bedroom where I was sorting "Santa" gifts to wrap. Luckily, Hubby intercepted the little man before he saw anything that would make him ask questions... or so I hope. He didn't seem disturbed in his belief. It is becoming harder and harder to hide things from those knowing eyes and questioning minds. There is a reason that by 8 or 9, children get wise to our illusions. I am inclined to see it as a sort of rite of passage now that I have been through it and am watching my kids go through it. I mean, everyone remembers how they found out about Santa, don't they?


Interesting how non-religious traditions can be more like rites of passage than religious ones. I for one, can't remember what was so significant about first communion that it required the hoopla of such an extravagant ceremony. Seems to me they could have offered those little white wafers to the kids before we purchased a white dress and ruffles socks. But perhaps they were afraid that without the prohibition and ceremony, kids wouldn't have given two shits about those dry little wafers. Funny how we trick kids into caring about something by making it an elite rite and then wonder why 21 year olds drink themselves stupid. We are a messy people.

Merry Winter Solstice to my Sisters and Brothers of this Earth. May wisdom deliver our children, from Santa(and getting), to Generosity(and giving).

Journal: Week 10

Ah! This story is talking for me on so many levels! Woman on the Edge of Time starts out with Connie. She is so poor and of course I sympathize with her. Her story is so similar with so many others. I was recently investigating poverty. I limited our weekly spending (grocery, fuel, extras) to reflect an average impoverished family of four. I recorded my experiences on my blog but my experiment only lasted one week. The list of things I was forced to go without was becoming too long. I finally broke when my son's position on the chess team required $50.


I lived in poverty from 1999 to 2001. I had a memory to reference and yet the depression of trying it for 7 days was to much for me to bear. I announced on my blog that there was no longer a question in my mind that impoverished people can't even afford to feel human. One of my cousins jumped on that comment (probably without having ever read an entire blog entry) saying that he is in homes of impoverished people all the time and that they have flat screen t.v.'s and more cell phones that they can handle. I am so sick of hearing this attack on the working class. Always the same. Always the exact same wording even. He's a cop. I simply asked him if he made a habit of condemning an entire group due to a percentage of negative representatives. His being a cop directly effects his perspecitve. He only ever sees law breakers, rich or poor. What I really wanted to ask him was why he thought they had so many cell phones. It's not like our society has developed a status indicated by the number of cell phones you carry. Nobody on the "A" list gets out of a Limo at the Golden Globes talking on two phones at once. Why would a number of cell phones make anyone believe that a person has money enough when most of us are happy if we can successfully maintain one? I really would like to know this....


The flat-screen t.v. is an easy one. It was while my husband and I had barely a dime to our names that we bought the television we had for 11 years and only recently deposed of for a smaller one. When you have less than nothing you are overly aware of your quality of life compared with others. If you ever get a chunk of money, say, from a bonus or a tax return you have two ways to use it. You can buy extra groceries for the next four weeks and improve your quality of life for one month (pay a few bills in advance with the same effect) or you can by yourself something that will be yours for the rest of your dismal days. A little slice of pie that no one can take away form you. While everything else gets flushed down the drain, pays off debt, gets given to phone companies and utilities; one thing promises to remain nice. That t.v. will always have a better picture and sound than the previous one and you don't owe it a thing. It seems like such a worthwhile investment compared to the alternatives. After all, the rich buy stocks, bonds, jewelry, otherwise indispensable items to keep their money safe and close.


I would venture to guess that the number of cell phones directly relates to the number of agreements broken due to unpaid bills. That or they're dealing drugs and who could blame them? Drugs are worth more than gold these days! 
If we found out tomorrow that gold could get you high, millionaire's assets would be frozen do to their instant status as drug dealers. The only difference is paperwork.

Journal: Week 8

Interesting question today in class, "Is Jane Eyre a woman's story?" I couldn't quiet my mind. My answer? Gosh no! Unless we can consider The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn to be a man's story, which I do not. Or Uncle Tom's Cabin to be a black person story which it should not be. The problem I have is that we continue to label things in a way that aligns the term "woman" with suffering or strife or even the overcoming of such. Slaves that were freed were no longer considered slaves but a woman is always a woman whether or not she aligns herself with suffering, strife or victory. If a slave narrative follows the life of a slave for decades after they were freed the narrative is till effected by the fact that they were at one time a slave or are a former slave. Women born 300 years from now should not be burdened by an inferiority complex simply because we decided that somehow a story of an oppressed woman had anything to do with who they are. Which it does not. It has something to do with how they are treated and what opportunities they will have, but it is not what makes them a woman. I agree that it should be given a name, however. There are enough similar stories of women's suffrage to create a category but we must choose our terms wisely. Then again, if the question only meant to ask if this is a story that is considered to be about a woman, titled, Jane Eyre, then my answer is "Yes, of course, but who would ask such a silly question?" Is it an English Woman's story? Is it a 19th Century woman's story? Is it a 19th century, oppressed English woman's bildungsroman? Now we're getting somewhere!


I later discovered that the label I was searching for was "Feminist Literature" and it, as a genre, has existed for hundreds of years... but has never been taught, that I know of.

Poo!

I feel like crap! I woke up at 1am with my throat on fire! WTF? I tossed and turned for about an hour before getting up to look for some pain relief. I couldn't find any. Hubby likes to move the bottle of Aleve around the house. I grabbed some chloriseptic and achieved some r.e.m. before Ben woke me up and told me he vomited in his bed. Double WTF?!

He's fine this morning. His sheets have been through two wash cycles, he's eaten breakfast and despite my fatigue I just may accomplish some holiday baking. I'm certainly putting the kids down for a nap today and taking one myself.

It's raining here, but my jog will happen; just later than I initially planned. It will be good for my system to breath in the moist air and let my nose run. Hopefully I will detox some of what is making my throat hurt.

I have four gifts to wrap today, some cookies or pumpkin bread to make and some kid furniture to move around.

We did something really fun yesterday! We moved the kids furniture again. This time we have decided to make the larger room the bedroom for both of them and the smaller room the play room. We are doing this for two reasons. 1) They gain strength in sharing a bedroom. They love "camping out" together and we have a bunk bed who's top bunk has never been used by either kid. Why not save some room and let them share the bunk bed and the room. 2) They already share a closet because we expanded our bathroom into Juliet's closest a few years ago. This year, we would like to give her a closet on the other side of the room, which will mean a little construction in that room. Construction in the room you sleep in is no fun, but we won't feel so bad doing some construction in a playroom.
Anyway! So far, they love it and so do I! They have so much more room. We are putting some furniture in storage to achieve that new found space, but we can use the furniture again once they decide to have separate bedrooms again. (sometime after that closet is finished)

Anyway, my throat is feeling pretty good, I'm gonna get my jog on!

Happy Wrapping World!

Ugh.

I apologize, my little blogosphere. Believe me when I say that you are in my thoughts, simply not in my holiday to-do list.  booo hoooo

Today was AWESOME!!

We are officially DONE Shopping for everyone else and now Bryson and I only have to buy for each other. (I actually only have one more thing to get him... shhhhh)

I haven't decided how I am going to work in a jog everyday. Now that I don't have school and limited gym time, I would like to take in some classes. But while classes are free, childcare is not. I don't feel like paying a fee everyday, which pretty well leaves me with the option of getting up and running first thing in the morning. Say 6-ish? I get tired just thinking about it. Honestly I know that it will be difficult for the first two mornings and then I won't be able to imagine a morning with out a brisk jog, but thinking about the bitter cold is making my throat hurt. So, I'm going to stop thinking about it.

I think the kids go back to school before I do so I think I'll save my class going for that tiny break before the Spring Semester slaps me in the face.

*BREAKING NEWS* This Masters stuff is not easy! I'm actually nervous to take two classes next semester and have twice the work. WHAT IF I'M NOT SMART ENOUGH?! EEK!!!

I go to bed now. Apparently a 6am jog is calling.

Week 6

We only have one class this week. Does that mean I only need to write half as much? ha ha 
Who am I kidding? Two pages seems to be making itself my minimum. 
I have read 3 1/2 chapters of "A Room of One's Own." It is much more riveting than I remember it. Although last time I read it with much haste, the placed that I originally highlighted no longer register their importance to me. Now a completely new voice is emerging. Something has changed. Who was I when I read this the first time? Who am I now that I find an essay riveting? I feel as though she is talking directly to me this time. All my work on my blog trying to create valid arguments or write a days events in some entertaining way and now Virginia Woolf is saying "JD! It is in our idleness, in our dreams, that the submerged truth sometimes comes to the top." My Grandmother used to sit at the edge of the lake while we swam and, being unable to swim, dipped only her feet into the water. The fish, the tiny ones, Virginia Woolf's thrown back thoughts used to swim up and nibble her tows. She usually watched them and wiggled her feet to shoo them away but when we stole her attention of her mind fell on memories or the beautiful day, we would hear the short, distinct squeak specific to our Grandmothers toes being nibbled without her consent, followed by shallow splashes as she sent those "fish into hiding"(from Virginia Woolf's A Room of One's Own)
Virginia Woolf said to me today, "JD, When an arguer argues dispassionately he" (she meant to say "she") "thinks only of the argument: and the reader cannot help thinking of the argument too. This is the explanation you've been looking for. This is what you are finding out" ... I wonder how big my fish will get... 


***Virginia Woolf has never referenced me personally in any of her essays. This is a journal entry and fantasy. Thank you for reading it as such.***

Week 5

We were reading The Story of Avis during this week's discussion.


The question of what two things the character of Avis was struggling between was asked sometime last week. I believed it to be art and beauty. Somehow it makes sense in my head that while Avis is seen by everyone else as a beauty she longs to create art. As if beauty is a surface condition but art is the employment of beauty and is based in reality.
It intrigues me to no end that the first criticism in the back of the book says that Phelps (the author) makes it obvious that her opinion is against marriage and then goes on to say that this is "a dangerous lesson to preach, and no less dangerous than untrue." yet it is this critics observation that Avis "against her instincts and contrary to her determination, [ ] allows herself to be beguiled into marriage." The word beguiled is where I take issue. It's funny to me that we noticed the same things only I, who am opposed to marriage in general, saw the main character as submitting to it for love, while the critic who seems bent in favor of unions assumes that deceit was part of the game. I'm extremely pleased not to have been a woman in those times.
My mother and I were talking about the book The Awakening recently and I told her that Kate Chopin also rights a short story that has been my favorite since I read it over two years ago. It's called The Story of an Hour. It seems to us that women in subservient positions within their marriage (and those in dominant positions) are the unhappy majority. It is the equal unions and only those that seem to be less inclined to complain. I'll have to finish these thoughts in a new notebook, this one is due today.

*          *          *

I believe I was talking about equal couple and happiness. I shouldn't speak as an expert. I don't know many happy couples. Aside from my marriage and maybe one or two others, the rest just make a mockery of this so-called sanctity. 

Journal Entries

I've been racking my brain trying to think of how to fit my blog in this week. If you follow me, you know that I will be writing everyday, but not on the blog, and anytime I write outside of the blog, I typically forget about my little bloggy.

What I've decided to do is share some of my journal entries from the semester. During the course of the semester I had to handwrite two pages a week. Not a small job, but not an extremely difficult one either. Typically, I wrote in my journal when something about our required reading, or a classroom discussion particularly interested me.

The entries should speak for themselves, but if not I'll add some small notes in red or blue or purple or whatever color tickles my fancy that day. Savvy? I hope you enjoy.

Week 1


Today in class the professor asked (in an "of course" sort of way) what was wrong with the phrase "Noble Savage." I barely remember what was said, because my mind began to reel. What is wrong with "Noble Savage?" Only everything! First of all, "Noble Savage" is a label and like all labels it can never be accurate because of it's tendency to generalize. That's basic. Labels will always work better to exclude people than to include and hence cause bigger problems than they, may originally seem to solve. What good has come of labels like, "Liberal," "conservative," "Democrat," "Republican" and "Independent," other than to separate and cause argument for argument's sake.
Further than that however is the fact that "Noble Savage" is harmful because of its double term. "Noble" has positive connotations and "Savage" (unless talking about Fred) has negative connotations. Labels notoriously create "others" better than they create themselves. For example instead of changing the label "Savage," in adding a "Noble" the "other" Savage is instantly created; the not-noble Savage must exist. Or else, why distinguish?
Perhaps even more harmful than that, though is the other "other" that is created. The other that is implied is the "Noble" non-savage. This one is harder to communicate but I believe I am going in the right direction here. What or who are you if you are not a "Noble Savage?" Are you a Noble or a Savage? Now, if you do not consider yourself to be a Savage are you necessarily noble? No. And the opposite isn't true either. Would anyone admit to being a "Savage Noble?" Probably not, but that doesn't mean that they don't exist. 
It is unfair then to the people being labeled as "Savage," "Noble Savage" or otherwise that the very label which is meant to promote a positive image, is the very label that will prevent them from being considered anything other than "savage."
The same is true for sex/gender. There does not only exist the Masculine Male and Feminine Female and every polarized other that they create, but all the variations in between that would be impossible to label. I'm hoping to find out, in this class, that there is such a thing as Women's Writing and that it, either, has nothing to do with being a female, or everything to do with it, rendering it unrecognizable. Anything in between and I wonder how we would study it.


Please remember that these are arguments as they slip from my grey matter and like newborns, not fully formed or strong enough to hold themselves up. ...Yet!

I know, right?

I keep forgetting my favorite pastime!  No, not eating. I've been so nervous about my paper and I've been trying to get so many other things done that I just forget about my Blog. Poor little blog.

Did I mention I get to write a 20 page paper this week?  yay! I have the introduction just about handled, but now I need to make an outline so that I don't lose sight of my point.  Something I do pretty easily. I like to tangent(this is typically a noun, but I have made it a verb for the purpose of me using it for myself. That's right, it's all about me today).

Hello?! My blog!

I don't really have anything else to say about that...

Outline here I come!

Light Me Up!

You know, the more I meditate on this holiday season, the more I realize that buying a real tree is just morbid! I mean, someone cuts down a living thing, puts it up for display, sells it based on appearance and then people stick it in their living room, dress it up and celebrate something completely unrelated while it dies. <shiver>  It's grotesque.

Today in class we were talking about Christmas cookies. Making our cookies, eating our cookies, sharing our cookies... it turned dirty. Let's face it the holiday reeks of innuendos. One of my favorite older songs is the 1960 - "Santa Clause Got Stuck in My Chimney" by Ella Fitzgerald. Must be a tight chimney, that or Santa is bigger than we all thought!

Just in case you're feeling a little chilly tonight, here's some Gaga to warm you up. This song is Ho Ho Delicious! Try not to Fa la la all over yourself... and if you do, clean it up!

So... about that....

So about yesterday.... I completely forgot to write because I was at school working on a book review. any day that I am actually writing for school, I find it hard to remember to right for leisure. I will get better at that, I hope. Anyway, today I will write two, how's that?

Last night I had two egg nog/ Southern Comfort drinks. DELICIOUS, but filling and not that good for you. The bonus is that they make me sleepy... and I have been needing to sleep!

I keep trying to go to bed earlier and earlier and yet, most of the time I am getting to bed later and later. So tonight I'm laying down at 9:30 damn it! You just watch me! (well, don't actually watch, that would be creepy)

Here's a crappy picture of our lovely living room:

That tree was thirteen dollars when we bought it 12 years ago, and last night I had to buy it a new stand for sixteen dollars! Damn stand better last us another 12 years!

Woops! Here it is with it's new stand and the first present of the season. I love this little tree!

Happy Monday!

When my Mother-in-law's dog, Sammy, bolted from our house towards a busy street on Saturday, two truck tires quickly taught him it was not a good idea. I would like to thank him for giving me a reason to drive like Mario Andretti getting him to a pet hospital. Believe it or not, World, that dog walked away with  only a scratch on his damn nose! Sunday morning he was running, licking and peeing just the way he had been on Friday. His name should be changed to LUCKY! We all thought he was a goner.

Sammy, we're so glad you're ok!

Wunning Woutine

Over the years I've done two very similar wogging routines to work back into jogging. Both times I learned the same thing. It's best if you see the schedule as a guide but make up your own routine as you go along.

One thing I decidedly don't like about both wogging programs is that they boast fast results and urge weekly improvements. Just as when I was 18, now 33, my body does not like being told when to move up in difficulty. And listening to my body has been the only successful tactic I've maintained.

That being said. Here is the "schedule" I have been following. Many things get changed along the way depending on how I feel and notice I have eliminated the "Weeks" and replaced them with "Levels." I will explain more below.

At the risk of sounding like Shel Silverstein, I'll call this my - 
Wunning Woutine:

Level 1: Walk at a brisk pace for 30 minutes. (enough to maintain a steady but elevated heart rate)

Level 2: Walk at a brisk pace for 3 minutes, jog for 1, repeat for 31 minutes (3 minutes of walking at the beginning and at the end)

Level 3: WABP (Walk At Brisk Pace) for 2 minutes, jog for 1. Do this to fill 32 minutes (2 minutes of walking at the beginning and at the end)

Level 4: WABP for 3 minutes, Jog for 2, continue for 28 minutes. (the time is decreased because the total run time in level 3 is ten minutes. I don't like to jump from ten to 12 on the same day that I increase my running minutes)


Level 5: WABP for 4 minutes then Jog 2/walk 2, repeat for 24 minutes.

Level 6: WABP for 4 minutes then Jog 2/walk 2, repeat for 28 minutes.

Level 7: WABP for 4 minutes then Jog 2/walk 2, repeat for 32 minutes.

Level 8: WABP for 5 minutes then Jog 3/ walk 2, repeat for 25 minutes. (total run time decreases again to work on stamina)


Level 9: WABP for 5 minutes then Jog 3/ walk 2, repeat for 30 minutes.

Level 10: WABP for 4 minutes then Jog 4/ walk 2, repeat for 22 minutes.

Level 11: WABP for 4 minutes then Jog 4/ walk 2, repeat for 28 minutes.

After Level 11 it is really up to the jogger to try and eliminate the walking breaks. One way to do this is to jog as long as you can and walk when you get winded, walking for no longer than 2 minutes at a time. When you can no longer jog more than a minute, call it quits for the day. You will see the accumulated jog time increase slowly.

I can stay at a level for three weeks sometimes. It is never good to move up before you are ready. Here are some rules I live by.

1) Always make an effort - Even if you are on Level 11, doing a few days at Level 1 won't hurt. THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS A WASTED WORK OUT! When you are done remind yourself that you made an effort and that's all that matters.

2) Never set an "End Goal." Being physically fit won't last if you're only doing it to fit into this dress or that shirt. Success happens on a daily basis and so do failures. Think of fitness as a life-long achievement and take all the ups and downs in stride. There are no "end goals" because fitness never ends.

3) When you feel like you can move up a level, give yourself one more day in the level you're at.  This may have you chomping at the bit to try the next level, but there's nothing wrong with that! Looking forward to a challenge is what keeps us motivated. Rather than earning a reward with hard work, why not earn your hard work with easy work? This is a great way to remind yourself that you are now a life long achiever.

4) There is no shame in starting over! If you decide to run at a faster pace, moving down in levels can help the transition. If you get sick or injured, coming back is coming back, no matter where you begin again.

5) Take steps, small ones. While a goal is a net that catches a ball and keeps it trapped, a step is something we take on our way to something else. Giving yourself a "next step" is a great way to motivate. Rewarding steps is fun too! Just don't let your rewards be a detriment to your work out. (food and candy are out, but new work out gear, a pedicure, some new music or even a few extra hours of sleep are great rewards! ... a cocktail never hurt either!)

That's all I have for today.
Happy Running World!

Busy...

My son turned seven today. I had a presentation to give. We went out to dinner.

I wrote a really awesome entry for our family news letter, but can't copy and paste it on my blog due to formatting.

So, I'm going to bed.

Warning: Profanity

Wog two miles? Check!

Banana and Orange Juice for breakfast? Check!

Finish Presentation for Tomorrow?

Clean house for Saturday's Birthday Party?

Finish Presentation for Tuesday?

Write 20-page English Paper?

Fuck!

... could use a little help here.

1st Grade Parent Homework

This is why I was too busy to blog tonight. I had 1st grade homework.

I was supposed to represent our family's holiday traditions on 1 - 2 scrapbook pages.

I love the idea of representing all families and cultures, but I hate scrapbooking. It's just another way for society to say, "Here women! Shut up and color!"

Anyway... for hating the task, I think I did a decent job. You decide.

This would not load upright. Sorry!

Give Thanks to Protestors and Poets

A poem by Shel Silverstein speaks to the masses at Occupy Wall Street. From the bottom of my heart, THANK YOU! 

FISH?

The little fish eats the tiny fish,

The big fish eats the little fish - 

So only the biggest fish get fat. 

Do you know any folks like that?

- Shel Silverstein

And to all the Native Americans whose homeland we trampled, raped and are still killing slowly because we never knew, and still do not know, any better:

FORGOTTEN LANGUAGE

Once I spoke the language of the flowers,

Once I understood each word the caterpillar said,

Once I smiled in secret at the gossip of the starlings,

and shared a conversation with the housefly in my bed.

Once i heard and answered all the questions of the crickets,

And joined the crying of each falling dying flake of snow,

Once I spoke the language of the flowers...

How did it go?

How did it go?

- Shel Silverstein

Welcome to Kansas

Stupid dumb damn cars!!!  Filthy, fuckin' gas and oil and rubber contraptions! @$*(^#%!!
There were a dozen little details that might have let that fox/dog/small coyote cross the highway safely. None of them were in play this evening. I'm so sorry little furry animal. We really didn't mean to hurt you, but we understand that that is exactly what we are doing; even when our tires don't come in contact.

Hey drunk guy! You don't have to tailgate our car, containing two small people, just because your right foot has lousy cruise control.

Saturday Night on the Kansas turnpike was a big howdy-do and welcome back. If we ever get out of Kansas I'm gonna miss the little vomit that happens in my throat upon returning every time.

I'm serious!

I feel like I have literally dropped a few inches since getting to the lake. And not because of a lack of eating. Running on concrete is much harder than running on a treadmill! Holy Crap! It's also more relaxing though. I love watching the trees go by and breathing the moist autumn air... until that damn conversion van drives by twice and "exhausted" the shit out of me.

It's crazy to see all the bags of food and snacks we bought slowly dwindling down. We have had more fun doing absolutely whatever we want!

Here are some of my favorite quotes from the week so far.

Ben: "I'm not just Anything; I'm THE THING!" During a water fight in the pool.

Juliet: "Daddy, can I take my chocolate into my fort?" While lounging around the condo.

My all time favorite was when Ben got crabby in the pool and told us, "I'm serious!" to which the Hubby responded with a similar crab, "I've been therious thith whole thime!"

This is One of Those Crazy Things...

Did I mention that a tree fell in the woods and not only did we hear it, we saw it?

Well, a tree fell in the woods and not only did we hear it, we SAW IT!

Poor thing. The earth shook when it landed. Crazy man, crazy.

If I Was a Millionaire

If I was a millionaire I would own a lake in the middle of a bunch of rolling hills. It would be stocked with fish and have a path around it for jogging. I would set my modest cabin up on the side of one of the hills with a fantastic view of my land and have various buildings where I pay people to keep them ready for my use at any moment. In one of these fabulous buildings would be a big theater with bouncy chairs to sit in and candelabrum sconces along the walls. When I arrived to watch a movie, the staff would open the door to the banquet kitchen so that I could pop my popcorn and the movie would be ready when I was.

Oh... wait... that is exactly what my day was like today. Ok... so I have to share this resort with other people, but all those other people obviously don't know what a fantastic holiday Thanksgiving is to spend here, because we have this entire place to ourselves!!

So, the movie was AWESOME and so was the popcorn. The indoor pool was warm and ours and now we're sitting in another one of those perfect-for-parties buildings where Ben is playing the Wii on one side and Jet and the Daddy-O are curled up on a couch, watching a movie on the other side. We will soon be having hot cocoa with marshmallows and I might go through the supply of puzzles to see if any fit my fancy.

And to all those millionaires out there, your money doesn't by you anything the majority of us can't have too except for power over the government and ulcers in your belly. ENJOY!

That's the lake, frozen, last January. It was our own private lake then too. Who couldn't love this?

Pregnant Pause

Herman Cain Responds to Reporters' Questions about Libya Pause: Video

1:05

After watching the above video, I have six very helpful words of advise for Mr. Herman Cain. 

DON'T PUT DIJON MUSTARD ON HAMBURGERS!!!

Seriously I should be getting paid for this. 

Mr. Cain, if you're blown away that the media is making a huge deal over a pregnant-with-quintuplets-pause after a question about world news, then you should be very careful when selecting your condiments. Many a man hour went into writing the slander that took place against our President for using Dijon Mustard on a hamburger. Now I realize that hamburgers and Libya are "apples and oranges" to some people, but be advised, the media treats them the same! (If not worse where hamburgers are concerned. Let's face it, the average U.S. citizen cares more about hamburgers that Libya. But I personally would like it better, if our President didn't.)

Your Welcome.

How about a game of Tic-Tac-Toe?

Last night after putting my kids to bed, I was walking in and out of their rooms with clean laundry for their drawers.  They were in their separate beds, winding themselves down. Jet was singing songs to her babies and Ben was apparently in serious contemplation. When I entered his dimly lit room the second time, he sat up suddenly.

"Mom?"

"Yeah Benny."

"I think that when people don't agree about something, instead of going to war they should just play a sport or a game, like football or tic-tac-toe, or something."

I was sorting socks and underwear across the room. "You mean let the game decide who wins?"

"Yeah. Like, instead of fighting and killing each other."


I tried to quickly explain that if a nation's freedom was at stake, they might try to cheat which could then lead to fighting anyway. However, I had to admit, "I sure do like the way you think, though, buddy."

And just like that, he laid back down, covered up and the next time I came in to hang some shirts he was already snoring.

It's amazing how that little monster can make me smile.

Raining Yellow Leaves

I saw the most awesome sight this morning and wanted to share. Of course, I'm a technological loser and had no means of capturing this on a device for you, my readers. So, I'll have to describe it with good ole' fashioned words!

I was driving to school when I was stopped by the umteenth red light and sat looking at the time and drinking my coffee. To the right, beyond the car hoods, was a patch of grass among a sea of concrete. In this patch of grass was a very adult tree with leaves covering it completely in yellow and yellow-orange. It caught my eye because the leaves were falling off the tree in a continuous sky to ground motion.

It's odd how in that moment my brain couldn't comprehend the amount of leaves it must take to lose them continuously and not develop barren branches before my eyes. I expected it to stop, take a break or only lose leaves when the wind blew, but this was not how it happened. They just fell and fell and fell from a never ending supply, uncountable. I would focus on one leaf falling from the top and watch it fall down and hit a branch releasing three more leaves that would then fall and release another five each and so on.

This was nature and yet, because I had never seen anything like it before, this constant motion made me think of a screensaver. I knew that the reason they fell so constantly was because of the frost that had developed over night, the weight of the leaves, the higher leaves knocking down the lower leaves, etcetera. Yet it seemed artificially without cause, the way a computer image would.

I had a strong urge to drive over and walk beneath it or lay on the ground and let them cover me in a big yellow blanket, but I needed to get a parking spot at school and time is unfortunately of the essence in our world. What a beautiful world we live in and how sad that we don't have more time to enjoy it.

I am sitting on a sixth floor couch, dreaming of my ground level tree and it's raining yellow leaves.

Holy Hell

When did the world get so damn sensitive? We should be able to talk about our differences with out judging others or feeling like we are being judged by them.

I'm an atheist. I'm not a proud atheist because I think that pride is dangerous. It allows us to see only the good in ourselves and none in others. I am a humble atheist. Which is to say that I love being atheist. It does give me strength in the same way that I assume God, Buddha, Allah, Jesus, etc. gives others strength. It is through atheism that I understand religion. Atheism is, after all, a religion. Perhaps the only real difference is that it's much more private. It isn't really considered an organized religion because why organize? We would get together and talk about nothingness. Fun. And honestly, it would be too tempting to get together and bash other religions. Which is why we don't. But that brings me to another point. If the only reason you get together with a congregation, is to talk about all the things you are not and put down other people and other religions, then I'm not sure you are doing yourself any good. Religion should be a source of strength and positivity. Negativity and insult only weakens the spirit.

That being said. It really isn't a compliment for you the Christian or Catholic to "pray for me"  to find God or Jesus, since you probably wouldn't want me to hope and meditate on you becoming an atheist. Think about it. That's just another way for you to insert your Pride Penis where it doesn't belong. So please, put it away - you'll poke your eye out.

If you have questions about atheism you should ask. Questions are not insulting. Negative assumptions are insulting, but who would make those? Really. We're all adults. We should start acting like it.

And now you will all burn in hell for
reading this! Muwahahahahah!!! :D
(that's an atheist joke)

I'm out.

It's been so crappy a day that I don't really feel like talking about it, but talking about something else at this point would feel superficial. So....

It started out well enough. I was called to substitute for the same math teacher as before. I was actually pretty excited about it and that aspect of my day went extremely well. However, while the students worked quietly I began to read a book that I have to do a presentation on, titled Backlash. It's about feminism and our society's backlash against the movement and gender equality in general. The topic was not fun and the more I read the more angry I became. My hand was shaking at one point when I was thankfully interrupted by a student. I took many deep breaths. I would suggest this book to men. Women, this book is hard to swallow but read it anyway. It's by Susan Faludi. Here's a link. So, I take a break. I focus on subbing and not the sabotage of gender equality.

I get finished subbing in time for my English class, but before I go, I check my email. One of my emails is from a classmate who thinks that a comment I made was racially inappropriate. It wasn't. She got angry about people in class saying that black people can't write a white person's story. I got angry about it too and said that it is like saying that a man can't write a woman's story or a woman write a teenage boy's story (see J.K. Rowling). But she was getting more and more offended and nothing she or I said could convince the other students otherwise. I told her after class that I thought she turned red. I said this jokingly. Apparently assuming that she was angry was racist. Am I to think that black people don't get red with embarrassment or anger? Wouldn't thinking that make me more racist? Anyway, I know better. Does she think I've never had black friends? Do I apologize for considering her human? So, what does she do? She writes about how I probably don't understand because people who don't deal with racism everyday often don't understand it. Now that is racist. Assuming that my pale skin makes me unable to understand something. As she's judging me based on my skin color she's telling me that I don't understand racism. Classic. I suppose next someone will tell me that, being a woman, I am too stupid to understand sexism. WTF?!

Then I get home. I earn some puffy eyes with a good cry over this cruel world, shake it off and decide to make dinner. Only I don't make it very well. I forget a key ingredient and no one eats it, including myself. It was gross and I was feeling beat down. So I decide to try to do something nice for someone else. What goes around, right? I pick up the phone to call a friend. Her husband is out of town. He cooks, she doesn't. Tomorrow I am putting the crock pot on filled with too much food for my family alone. Why not call an invite her and her daughter to dine with us. But when I pick up the phone I forget that I was called to sub this morning and call back the wrong number. The good news is that I didn't say anything profane which is customary for me when I call a friend.... I was so embarrassed. ...and I did turn red.

You win world. I'm giving up for today. I'm taking tylenol PM for my headache, crawling beneath the covers and trying to forget this day ever happened. Feel free to do the same.

Super-human

I have so much crap to do tonight and this week. I'm fairly certain it's not humanly possible. But I will try. Lord knows last week I did more than I thought was humanly possible which leads me to the only reasonable conclusion: I am not human. I have suspected this for some time.

I have no idea what I'm going to write about for the blog this week. If I tell you what's on my mind everyday you'll get tired of reading about the lake (you probably already are). So, the only thing left is to talk about the boring stuff... and can't you tell?... I so skillfully leave those things out of my daily posts... <yawn>.

Hey! WAKE UP! What's the statute of limitations on how early one can start listening to Christmas music? Am I still too early? I'm craving that groovy Mr. Mathis bad this year. And I sure could sing along with some chipmunks and muppets on the drive to the lake next weekend. OK, I'll shut up!

Tomorrow morning I'm off and running! Very much to do in very little time... time to break out the super-human abilities! I R WOMAN!

rrrrrrrrrrrRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOooooooaaaaaaaarrrrrrrr

Went in for an Oil Change...

came out with four new tires.

We're leaving in one week for the lake. It's nice to know that we have fresh oil and a little thing called "tread."

My run today sucked because I didn't have breakfast before I spontaneously decided to get brand new tires and upon waiting over an hour ate 2 too many Otis Spunkmeyer cookies. My heart rate was through the roof and I couldn't get it down. It doesn't help that I've been running on my toes lately. This is a low impact style that is easily converted into a sprint. It actually makes you work harder with out the joint stress. So... basically I'm back to panting.

I can actually feel myself loosing weight through out the day after my runs and have cut back my frequency of trips to the gym. I would like to move up to running five times a week again, but for now I'm afraid of getting sick if I go too often. This new run is kicking my ass! I love it!!

Did I mention we're going to the lake in a week? That place makes me so happy. It's so serene in the cold months. The dogs will go too. That's a different kind of serene - two adults, two kids, two dogs. I'm going to try to remember to jog.

< sighhhhhhhhhh >

presentation done.good. ugh. so tired. whymy stillawake.dfjwazzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Definition of Hell

When you have four time-sensitive projects culminating in the same week and the one that would benefit you the most professionally is not the one that would benefit you the most emotionally or intellectually. So, you work on all of them with equal time while strongly intellectually stimulated and unable to turn off any one project to focus on any other project for any amount of time.

I think I baked my presentation, cleaned my transcript, wrote dinner, and edited a pie. I hope the birthday was good.

I love my friends.

AAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh!!

raogiaenqrg;owith45p0tu82450tgu4trbergF&Dv6_)(*^JNVGD$W$$%*83r893y5t8gugf90bujdgnsgY^R^%$*4oj4giejgojrtrgorgwrj


I just thought you should know.

Woo Hoo!!!

Oh happy day! The drunken midget was back at dance class!!  I love that little goblin! She retrieved no less than two things from under a bench tonight, both times trying to stand while under the bench and just following the bottom of the seat out to the edge with her head before popping up like a jack-in-the-box. Why do the other moms look at me when I laugh out loud and why aren't they laughing too? It's not like I'm pointing. And the little gremlin's amusing damn it!

One of our smoke detectors malfunctioned this morning. It was cute to watch Detective Ben and Secret Agent Jet looking for clues. We have established that the battery must be getting low. We're on it!

da   da   dada   da   da   dada   da   da....
(It's the Mission Impossible music. You can hear it, I know you can!)

Ruffles Have Ridges!

And so do I! I found my first permanent wrinkle! You know, when we smile, laugh, squint, frown, scowl, etc., we all have wrinkles that appear. But just the other day, I spotted a wrinkle that does not require me to alter my face. It's just to the left of my mouth. It was always there when I smiled and now it's always there when I don't. Hubby and I think it means I smile a lot. Why not? I read a book four years ago called "Buddhism for Mothers." The  just putting on the Buddha grin will improve your mood. I tried it. It's true. But, let's face it, I don't remember all the time. In fact, I remember less when I need it most.

"Wait just a damn minute," you say, "Are you meaning to tell me CyniSister is ... dare I say... HUMAN?!"

Well I was going to try and keep it from you for as long as I could, but it turns out wrinkles change a persons outlook. Life's too short to lie!!

No really. I noticed that one little wrinkle then, all week, I couldn't help noticing how crevassed my face became every time I laughed. The Grand Canyon's got nothin' on my crows feet! I should pay admission. < Whining > I just got my cartoon icon drawn too. Now I'm gonna have to add a few extra lines!

I hope when my grey hair appears it's shiny and silver!

Flower Power!

Yesterday I didn't write because I was at school all day and got TONS of stuff done. I just forgot to share all this successfulness with you, my readers.

Today, I took all my coupons and shopped for as many dry goods as I could find at Dollar General. "Oh my gosh" you say, "Our dear girl is broke!" No, I'm not, but I am stingy as hell, and when I can get some stuff a dollar cheaper somewhere else, dag-nab-it, I go somewhere else. I was robbed on Campbell's Chunky Soup though. That incident will not be revisited. Asses.

Lunch with Hubby was Fantastic! He has a new office with a beautiful dry erase board in it. Of course I couldn't help but notice that one of his Expo markers is pink. I must admit, I've never seen a pink Expo Marker before. I got giddy and drew big damn flowers all over the board. Then, for additional mushiness, I added hearts and confetti and told the crew they were loved. The office needed some color. I wonder if the big men can handle it.

Gone Mental

I'm so lazy lately. I think it's because I have so many things pulling me in all directions. You know, like poke your eyes out laziness. I would rather poke my eyes out than decide what to do first. And it's really not the amount of things that I have going on right now as much as it is the amount of things I WANT to be doing right now. For instance, I am reading three books, just for my one class and they are all interesting, fascinating, intriguing... I could really use that extra hour right about now.

The one that's really got me is Woman on the Edge of Time by Marge Piercy. I can't break free from it. It's about a woman locked up in a mental institution and it makes me feel like I'm in a mental institution because I read it so often and for such long periods that I even dream about it. It makes you wonder if the story isn't real and your life isn't the story. Ugh! I love it!

So tomorrow I will spend the entire day at school trying to be as productive as humanly possible. I may go to the gym after my class, if I'm content with the amount of things accomplished. Either way, I look forward to a day of reading and writing. I think I will start spending all day at school every Tuesday and Thursday. I have class after all. I might as well get there early, get a parking spot and curl up on the couch in the graduate lounge. Yes, I have waited a long time to say that.

This Friday is family night. This Saturday is undecided, other than a meeting I have with a classmate over our upcoming presentation, and then this Sunday has GOT to be a cleaning day. I was able to take down the mummy from the front window,  remover the spiders from the door and bedroom window, put away the hanging skeleton shadows and un-stone our walls. So now it only looks like Halloween puked on the front porch, in the living room and in three rubbermaid containers. Bleh!

Being older and wiser sucks sometimes. I want to O.D. on candy so badly, but experience has taught me better. No fun.

Mamma Got Treated!

We had an extremely fun and exhausting Halloween. I spent almost the entire day in costume and at the's kids' school. The treasure hunt was a super success and I was able to lead a witchy relay race for the kindergardeners. By the time the day was done, I needed a nap and so did the kids. We all slept for a little while before getting up and doing it all again.

We visited a few neighbors and then went to a friends house and skipped around their neighborhood. The kids filled their bags adequately and I even scored a bottle of wine!

This morning, it appears as though Halloween shit all over my house. The couch has empty goody bags, candy wrappers, spooky artwork and board games. The dining room table has a deformed spider web, empty cereal boxes, burned down candles, spider rings and almost empty 2 liter bottles of flat soda. The kitchen doesn't even look like a kitchen except for it's half empty packages of cupcakes, witch cookies, cheese platters and empty KFC boxes. My witches hat is balancing on the back of a wing-back chair full of costume odds and ends and our front porch looks like someone junked a fog machine, strobe light and ironing board (don't ask) before skipping town.

I still need to grocery shop and, by-golly, clean up this damned mess! But for now, I have school work. Please excuse me.

Get it ON!

Today is going to be FANTASTIC! So is this weekend and so is Monday!

I feel like I'm starting a marathon. The shot rings out today and Monday night is the finish line. I'm writing clues for a first grade treasure hunt and taking the kids to their grandma's today. Then this weekend I'm making the clues (stained, torn, burned paper) and having a costume party for adults. On Sunday I'm doing some homework and picking up the kids and Monday I'm facilitating the treasure hunt and staying in my witchy costume all day until we take the kids trick or treating that night. Whew! The sling shot's a-pullin' back.

Time to let go...... PEACE OOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUUUTTTT!!!!!!!

Sit and Watch

Oh I don't know, they both make me want to jump in and help.

Old Baggage

Let's get something straight. When a person calls to make an appointment with a doctor or a hair dresser or even a professor, and says that he or she is available between 9 and 2 on Mondays and Wednesdays; he or she is not suggesting that during those times he/she would normally be sitting around staring at the wall, waiting for something to happen. Those are simply the times that said person has many flexibly scheduled items that can be moved to accommodate an appointment. Right? We know this, don't we? We understand that on all other days and times, rigid schedules must be kept. Right! Good.

Moving on.

I think it is an arrogant and selfish act to block your own number when calling someone. I don't answer calls when they are blocked or anonymous. It's like covering up the peak-hole when you visit someone's house. Eventually they're going to know it's you at the door. I understand a callers right to remain anonymous, I simply exercise my right not to answer my phone.
My neighbor, the old, know-it-all right next-door to us, always shows up as "Out of Area" even though she lives two walls over. At first, I didn't answer. Then she explained that it was because she blocks her number (whether that's true or not, I have no idea). After that, I would only answer when it was "Out of Area"because then I knew it was her. And I would answer, "Hi Polly!" just to let her know she wasn't being sneaky.
That was before I had a nice chat with her daughter over the shared back fence. Apparently Polly disapproves of my parenting techniques. This from a woman who's own children visit for one hour on her Birthday and all major holidays, but no more. Never any more. If their car appears, I can look at the calendar and figure out why. It's never a surprise, always an obligation. But I'm the "horrible mother" as her daughter quoted. Of course she felt comfortable telling me this because it's absurd! I'm a fantastic parent! Ask my kids.
Unfortunately, I wear my heart on my sleeve and just knowing that she thinks so highly of me will show on my face or be heard in my voice. I can be cruel without meaning to be and quite honestly, no matter how she feels about me, I kinda like the old bat. So I have cut all communications.
It is a freeing experience to go about my business as if the phone has not rung three times in the past hour. I can even ignore a doorbell rung twice then twice again, quickly, as if someone was bleeding from the eyes just outside(oh yes, this is the annoying behavior that took place when I still gave a shit and would rush to the door to see how I could be of service).
Now I know that no one is dying and I have better things to do than pretend to believe that someone likes me. If I thought that she could be straight with me, then I might answer the door again. We could take a few jabs at each other and call it a day, but she's too old and her generation doesn't do well with honest feelings. So, I ignore her. Many times it was those very phone calls and doorbells that interrupted my time with my children. So, you see, Polly has already taught me the error of my ways. Nice lady.

Circling Vultures

I was half asleep last night when I realized I hadn't blogged on Sunday or Monday. I've been a busy woman world! I'm actually surprised my phone wasn't ringing off the hook with worried family members. Ha! That's just a joke, my mother is the only person in my family who reads this and she swears she never worries about me. I haven't figured out if that's a compliment or an insult. I say, whenever in doubt, assume compliment!

I did make it back to the gym today, so my brain has returned. Let's see if I can keep it long enough to finish this entry.

Something peculiar happened this morning. I was doing the usual circling routine in search for a parking spot at school. There were a few of us. We were doing an 18th century dance around the isles looking for someone, anyone to pull out and give us their coveted 60-some-odd square feet of oil stains. Today, however, there was one car gumming up the works. Some grey haired lady sat in her car at the beginning of one of the isles and didn't move. Very ungraceful. She just sat there. I assumed she was waiting for a spot but then as I circled back around another car sat opposite her, like a face off, and further muddled the dance. I wasn't in that much of a hurry, it was not time for classes to let out and I didn't feel like fighting the madness, so I took one of three 30-minute parking spots and decided to read. When the classes let out, there would be plenty of parking to go around. I read two sentences, looked over saw a car pulling out, backed up, drove down, pulled in, parked... wait for it.... and walked past the two cars still sitting one isle over. How sad for them. Surely this one is going to come back to bite me in the ass!

Naked

The curtains are drawn. Wait. Are they drawn when they're open or closed? I should ask Amelia Bedelia, surely she's figured it out by now. Anyway, we're waiting for he sun to poor in and warm us up.

It is the most beautiful fall day. These are the days I live for; impossibly sunny, irresistibly crisp, as if the world itself is trying to preserve the colors. Chilled, but not yet frozen, perfectly refreshing. I have so much to do today but all that seems to matter is the breathing.

Happy Autumn World! DO enjoy it.



If you like my blog, "Like" my blog!

Gay Debate

Well, the votes are in. Over the past 6 or 8 years (I can't remember how long. It seems like a lifetime) we've heard both sides of the debate on same-sex marriage. It's been a nice long ride in which I believe we have adequately voiced all the points it is possible to make in either direction and now I would like to tally them up in a clean-cut, Pro/Con list and see if we can't reach a mutual verdict for all to agree upon. So, here goes.

Same-Sex Marriage

Pro:

Marriage is a human right.

Con:

Fucking faggots!

Pro:

Being a Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual or Transgender is not a choice.

Con:

OMG, it is like, SO GAY!

Pro:

LGBT orientation is not a disease and is not contagious.

Con:

Homo!

Pro:

More heterosexuals commit violent sex acts than homosexuals.

Con:

Uh... fucking faggots!

Pro:

An LGBT lifestyle is no different from a heterosexual lifestyle sans partner selection and therefore we can assume that a LGBT marriage would also not differ from heterosexual marriage with the exception of, possibly, a lower divorce rate. But we would have to try it and find out.

Con:

Fucking... so Gay!

Pro:

Simply outlawing same-sex marriage is not going to stop same-sex coupling and same-sex sex and if you are dumb enough to think that hot girl on girl action or manly man on man sausage rolls, effects you in a negative way than outlawing their marriage isn't going to change that effect. You may need to face the fact that you could be gay. It's okay.

Con:

Ignorant heterosexuals may need to face the fact that they could be gay. And that's not okay. So GAY!

Conclusion:

Well, I think the results are obvious. We absolutely can not allow same-sex marriage. Too many ignorant heterosexuals would have to realize that while they were fighting to deny the freedom for others to be happy, they were really just fighting their own gayness, er happiness and their own freedom to live gayly, I mean happily as fudge packers and carpet munchers. And for them to face that fear, well, that would be Armageddon! Have pity homosexuals! Some people are afraid to be as happy, er gay, as you.

Now! Let's debate this opposite-sex marriage fiasco... talk about being contagious and life ruining!  I can count on ONE hand the amount of opposite-sex married couples I know that are happy. Something should be done about this bullshit.

It's Getting Hot in Here! So take off all your....

I was really worried about the temperature of the house last night. It just wasn't going to be warm enough outside to warm up the inside. I know, you're all sitting there in sweltering rooms and offices thinking, "Turn on the heat, dipshit!" but we still have some 70 degree days coming our way and it is my firm belief that we should acclimate ourselves the way our ancestors did. And don't call me a dipshit, ya' assholes!

Anyway, the nice thing about cold weather is that you can cook and bake to your hearts content and not worry about over working an air conditioner! The stove and oven serve a dual purpose, cooking and heating. And that is a concept that I willingly take a healthy CHOMP out of. So last night I got down and dirty in the kitchen. I cooked a full meal and baked two loaves of pumpkin bread. Why not? By the time I was done I had to disrobe.... well, not completely, but I was HOT! Then, not only was the house comfortable, it smelled FANTASTIC! Give me some yummy recipes and an environmental benefit and I get excited, overheated and am ready to take something off! You know what I mean. Warm ovens and such.

Autumn is here!  Happy Baking World!

Here Comes the Sun

Today I am harnessing the sun's energy as best I can in my tiny, low-efficiency, home. You see. The people who built our house, back in the 50's, couldn't tell which direction was which, or, this being Kansas, still didn't believe that the earth rotated around the sun or tilted on its axis or any of that hocus-pocus bull crap. But it does rotate and tilt and because this was not paid it's due attention, our house is hotter than it needs to be in the summer and colder than it should be in the winter.

You see, our house faces directly to the West. The front of our house couldn't be more in line with the west and the back of our house, with the East. Perfectly semetrical. Boo! In the summer, when the sun follows a straight, East to West path across the sky, we get full sunlight in, first, our back windows, then our front ones. Hot hot hot! Then in the winter when the sun takes a less presumptuous, southeast to southwest path across the southern sky only the south side of our house gets any direct sunlight and only for a short period of time. Cold cold cold! Duh people!!  We are a civilized species. Are you telling me that we have only figured out how to use the sun to our advantage in the past 60 years? Disgusting! I guess back then we also believed that we would never fill up our landfills either. <shaking head> It's pathetic.

If however, they had set our house at a southwestern angle, we would get the sun on two sides during the winter. We would then get direct sunlight on two corners of the house in the summer and with properly planted trees, we could curb any light (heat) hitting the windows at an angle. Also it would be easier to block the wind in the winter with some evergreens on either side of the southern corner. But that's just crazy talk... makes too much sense for us humans. The fact that we are the most intelligent life form on the planet really scares me somedays.

Anyway, if you would like more information about planting trees to optimize what little efficiency you may already have, check out The Arbor Day Foundation. They rock! Correction: They TREE!

Sick Blog

The kids are beginning to exhibit their darker-than-usual sense of humor. I couldn't be more proud. Saturday we sat on the front porch making up cheers for their high school football team.
"2-4-6-8, who do we appreciate? 8-6-4-2, who the fuck do you think we do?!" This one was followed by an eruption of laughter along with some of the others that we call our "disgruntled cheerleader cheers." Nothing is funnier than a non-perky cheerleader that cusses. At least nothing was funnier to me and the 5 and 6 year old on Saturday. No, yeah, I 'm still pretty pleased with it! We'll see if I get any calls from teachers today.

Yesterday, I mopped my entire house, cleaned the windows and wiped down door jams (where do all these grimy hand prints at hip height come from?). My house will be so pretty and sparkly for a WHOLE week and then it will get grungier and grungier until I decide to clean again in the spring.... or summer.... or never. Don't visit unless you have lysol and a face mask. seriously.

Today I have a cold. WTF?! My throat hates me and I don't understand why. It's not like I don't give it all sorts of reasons to love me, like singing at the very top of my lungs while I drive, take a shower and work around my house... pretty much all the time, nonstop. So? It's not enough that I crank up the music to an ear ringing volume, sometimes I then feel the need to try and drown it out using my vocal cords. They love it! eh-hum, ouch. Obviously! Anyway, I think they're on strike. And like most strikes, it isn't fun.

I feel crappy. 

Dirty Room

from A Room of One's Own

by Virginia Woolf

1929

"______ - to call it by a prouder name than it deserved -- had let it's line down into the stream. It swayed, minute after minute, hither and thither among the reflections and the weeds, letting the water lift it and sink it, until -- you know the little tug -- the sudden conglomeration of a _____ at the end of one's ____: and then the cautious hauling of it in, and the careful laying of it out? Alas, laid on the grass how small, how insignificant this _____ of mine looked: the sort of ____ that a good fisherman puts back into the water so that it may grow fatter and be one day worth ____ing and eating. I will not trouble you with that ____ now, though if you look carefully you may find it for yourselves in the course of what I am going to ___.
     But however small it was, it had, nevertheless, the mysterious property of its kind -- put back into the ____, it became at once very exciting, and important: and as it darted and sank, and flashed hither and thither, set up such a wash and tumult of ____ that it was impossible to sit still."


Who says literature is boring? Happy Dirty Sunday World!

Short Story - Very Short

Amber

(all rights reserved ya' bitches)

In a department store dressing room, an Aunt sat holding two purses and talking through curtains to her Niece about the movie they had just seen.

"I thought it was a very cute story. That actress, I can't remember her name, she did a good job. Weren't those costumes gorgeous?" said the Aunt.

The Niece, in her mid-twenties sighed, "I don't know. I think I'm out growing chic-flicks. It wasn't very realistic. In fact, it seemed almost farcical."

"Oh, I thought it was a beautiful story. It was realistic enough for the time period. Wasn't it?"

"Maybe. I'm just tired of female characters being so dull. Fighting an arranged marriage isn't a personality trait. Neither is being pretty."

The Aunt stared at the floor and thought about it.

The Niece emerged from behind a curtain and turned from left to right in front of the trifold mirror.

The Aunt sighed, "You have such pretty legs. They haven't aged a bit since you were in high school."

The Niece smiled in thanks, "You want to know my secret?"

"Sure."

"I put lotion on, everyday, after showering. That's it."

"Every day?" she looked at her Niece's bright eyes.

"Everyday," repeated the Niece.

"Oh," the Aunt waved it off, "that's too much work." She looked back at the floor.

The Niece's smile faded but her eyes did not. She walked back behind the curtain. "That's what's wrong with the world," she said, more to herself, "Reality is too much work but to live in a dream you have to be sleeping."

Oh! I thought you knew.

I'm so star stuck,
Feelin' funny in my mind,
And I'm singing "uh-oh" on a Friday night,
Now, I'm feelin' so fly like a G6!


It's my day off. You figure it out.

Wacky Wednesday

Writing Day numoero dos! (that's "number two" ya 'mercans!)

Today is a WRITING DAY.... Writing Day.... writing day.... Did you hear the echo?  The kids will be at school, I've canceled my appointments and I'm spending the day with Aphra Behn. We anticipate a brief visit by Fanny Fern, that crazy bitch. I say that as a compliment(she knows this).

It is also Wacky Wednesday at the kid's school which means they are to clash in the name of school spirit. This week is Homecoming! Juliet, my leprechaun on LSD, will have no problems. Ben may need some help. I will supply sufficient guidance.

To the drawing board!

Come on Aphranny! Let's go reign the terror of sarcastic bitches upon the world!

Drunken Midget

Every Monday night after dinner, my daughter dawns her tights and leotard, throws tap shoes and ballet slippers into a backpack and the three of us converge upon the local rec. center while Daddy goes to class. It's a pretty normal routine except that lately one of the other mothers has been bringing her entire litter with her. Just to set you up; the one in the dance class is the oldest (5 years). There's a smaller munchkin, a smaller-than-the-last-munchkin and the tiniest, teensiest little rug rat of them all is this funny little girl in diapers with small bones and big curious eyes who walks around the entire time like a drunken midget. She's extremely mobile and extremely tiny. In fact she looks like a baby version of Mr. Potato Head because she has little arms and legs sticking out of the normal, one year old, well-fed, torso. She doesn't talk so much as mumbles, gurgles and spits with the occasional squeal of delight, very reminiscent of a drunken, "WOooo Hooooo!!"

Last night she toddled around, very unstable but determined to stay in the party. She fell numerous times just because she wasn't concentrating on standing, tripped over her mommy's leg completely unfazed, followed a trail of cheerios left by her sister, tried to find her own cherrios among her brother's crayons and stared a large man down until he finally looked her way then she gurgled at him awkwardly. We were all embarrassed for her. I would bet she even pissed herself later in the evening. Tsk. Tsk. Don't worry world! I did the right thing and told her mom to CUT HER OFF!  No more Mai Tai's for that one! It's so sad to watch a hot mess realize she can't handle the bottle!

Click here for more Drunken Midget?

Pet the Monkey!

Right now, 7:15am in Kansas, it is devilishly dark outside. The house is quiet except for the mumblings of my daughter who is up too early for a day off.  Mmmm, my coffee is delicious. Sidd (our german shorthair-pit mix) is on the couch cuddling with a stuffed monkey and Prot (K-Pax) is on the floor sighing with jealousy.

Today is a writing day for me ... typically. The children, however, do not have school today so, writing will be a challenge. Not to mention, I'm nervous about turning in my first Grad Paper. I realize it will be just like any other, but that doesn't make me feel any better. I was nervous about my first undergrad paper and my first undergrad at a university paper, so why should this be any different? I like my topic and that can make all the difference.

Poor, Sidd. His monkey was stolen by my daughter. Now he too is sighing with jealousy.

Ah! I can see the overcast sky. The day is beginning and I'm ready for a second cup. Let my fingers be nimble, my patience by plentiful, my mind be sharp and my children be cooperative. This day will be a productive one!

Dirty Sundays

Well, it's Sunday and as always I begin to miss my blog by Sunday. I never really have anything super important to share after a day of hanging with the family, watching movies and reading, but just the same... HERE I AM!

I think, from now on, Sundays should be "Dirty Sundays". I'm going to do a little unnecessary censorship and cut out only enough words to make something sound dirty. I'm probably going to do this to a blog from the week or an old blog from long, long ago, or maybe I'll use something else, like an excerpt from some classic literature. It depends how I feel.

Since this will be my first attempt, I think I'm going to try it on the first blog I ever wrote on my beloved BLOGSPOT! Let the dirty begin!

I'm starting a Blog because I want to ____ a writer blah blah blah and you're already bored. Look, I have some pretty exciting things happen in my ____ and sometimes I just want to _____ them with the world. "Hey World! _____ this out!" kinda thing. Then there's that ever present, nagging _____ of professors in my head saying, "you should ____ something everyday" coupled with the fact that we ____ 2 hours away from our nearest ____ member and ___ing Grandma's ____ to date, is a demanding job. So, what you might find here is a combination of _____s on my crazy ______, ramblings about the _____ - journal style - and a general cataloguing of fantastic ______ and moments of _____ as I explore this murky ____. It's sure to be messy and with dedication, disastrous. Watch your step.



So.... feel free to leave comments. Or _____ comments. Or just go ____ yourself! Either way, I'm happy!