Having the last 10 days off has been wonderful. There were a few days off before Christmas, but what I appreciate the most is having off the week between Christmas and New Year's. It's the hazy, dreamy time with little responsibility when you subsist on Christmas leftovers. I have about 1.5 gallons of turkey soup that I've been working on. No real cooking, no real responsibilities, no real stress...aaaaaaaah
I've read 10 books in the last week and a half. I've taken naps, I've had lots of baths. I've done puzzles with Julia and played with her toys with her. It's been the type of relaxing that's good for the soul. I like where I live, I like who I live with, it's just heaven to spend time with them without many other responsibilities interfering.
I've caught up on celebrity gossip. Who's dating whom, who just got engaged to whom, I feel like I'm somewhat caught up. Although there were some people who got married, got divorced, and had kids in the past couple of years that I had no idea about.
I must confess that the only Kardashian that I can recognize is Kim. The other ones...I have no freaking idea. I'm so confused about that whole situation. I thought one of them had a baby with a football player, or one of them was engaged to a football player. One of them had a baby. One was chubby and lost weight, not sure if that was the one who had the baby. All I know is that all the sisters have a name that starts with "K," and I'm glad I'm not one of them.
Still don't know anything about the Jersey Shore show. Some dude is called Mike "The Situation," and there's some girl named Snooki with a fake tan. That's the extent of my Jersey Shore knowledge. And I'm cool with it.
Ryan Reynolds and Scarlett are getting a divorce! Shocker! *sarcasm*
Eva Longoria and Tony Parker are getting a divorce! Shocker! *sarcasm*
Hugh Hefner is getting remarried. In my opinion, he's really, really aged in the past 5 years. There's a point where an older guy is attractive/distinguished, and then there's the point where he is so old that he's like that Texas oil dude in a wheelchair that Anna Nicole married. And, Hugh, you've crossed that line. I feel kind of bad for Holly. Remember how badly she wanted to marry Hugh, and he didn't want to marry her? Then like a year later he's engaged to someone else. It's kind of like how the stereotypical guy says, "I'm not ready for a relationship," and then six months later he's in a relationship with someone else. He was ready for a relationship, just not with you. Still, must suck for Holly.
And, Denise Richards, you have the crappiest taste in men. Seriously. Sure, a bad boy can be fun, but there comes a time when perhaps stability can be scintillating in its own right. Let's say I'm really, really forgiving, and I acknowledge that maybe Charlie Sheen has some allure. I don't see his allure personally, particularly after his penchant for hookers and domestic violence came out. But still, I'll give you a pass on Charlie. At least you got out of that hot mess. And then you went for a rocker. Of all the rockers out there, probably Richie Sambora is potentially better than most. But now, Nikki Sixx???? Really?
I've really been enjoying rocking out to NKOTB and reading gossip sites. This is the point where I probably need to go back to work. I've tapped out of all the useful things I could be doing.
Happy New Year!
Friday, December 31, 2010
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Disappointment
As I've said before, my father was not active in my life before he died. He had personal issues, so it's not like I necessarily missed out because he was full of drama. He definitely had his good qualities, but they got overshadowed by such realities as his cars getting repossessed, getting thrown out of bars, and getting fired from numerous jobs. Even as a kid, I understood that he wasn't the best role model in the world, or even the 10,000th best role model. I tried my hardest to focus on his good qualities and be glad that I didn't have to personally deal with the ramifications of his poor choices in other areas of his life.
Still, he perpetually filled me with disappointment. I know I didn't technically write that properly. No one can make you feel anything. You choose how you handle things. I know this. But when you're a little kid, you can't help some of your feelings, and I think a kid can be filled with disappointment. It disappointed me when he didn't call me for my birthday, or his Christmas checks bounced, or he said that he'd go get a pizza and not come back for 8 hours, or he dropped me off at the library and forgot about me for hours. See a theme of him forgetting about me? I only spent two weeks out of a year with him (technically his parents since he lived with them), but he still forgot about me in those two weeks. That kind of stuff does disappoint a kid. I did intellectually understand that my dad operated like a 5 year old, but it still disappointed me that I couldn't count on him...ever.
His younger brother, my uncle, had fewer problems than my dad. I wouldn't necessarily call him the most "with it" person, but he seemed light years ahead of my dad back when I was a kid. My uncle, for instance, would remember to feed me, and he wouldn't drop me off and leave me in a public place for hours on end when he went to the bar to get drunk. When you're used to my dad, my uncle seemed almost like a pillar of responsibility. The thing with my uncle, though, is that he was always full of unfulfilled promises. He was a man of talk and not of action. So was my dad, but if my dad couldn't be trusted to follow through on something simple, you knew not to take any talk of the future seriously with him. But, see, my uncle would say seemingly not unrealistic things that were completely within the realm of possibility...and then not follow through. With people like that, it takes longer to not take them seriously. They have a good talk. The first few times they don't follow through, you let it slide and make excuses for them. After the tenth + time, you start realizing that people like that are at their core almost as unreliable as my dad but just disguise it better.
Since I live across the country from my uncle, our interaction is very limited. We talk a couple of times a year. It's funny because every time we talk he laments that I'm the only living relative other than his son, and he likes keeping that connection because I'm the only one who remembers most things that happened in the past. Yet he doesn't call. We talked in early August. At the time, he assured me that he'd call on Labor Day Weekend. After decades of unfulfilled promises by him, I knew that he wouldn't call when he said he would. Because that's just how he is. I didn't dwell on Labor Day when he didn't call, but about a week after I remembered that he said he'd call. Oh well, I didn't expect him to anyway, but it still annoyed me because he said he would.
He actually did call...on December 13. I'm pretty sure the only reason he called because his wife prompted him to get my new address for their Christmas card. On that call, he said he would call on Christmas. Uh huh, sure, I've heard that one before. And guess what? He didn't. Not that I expected him to, but it still disappoints me just a tad. It adds one more small thing to a humongous pile of disappointments having to do with my dad's side of the family. Yeah, I know I could have called him. That really wasn't the point, though.
So all of this disappointment was in me when I was a teenager. Fair or unfair, right or wrong, I had compartmentalized it all simply as women were infinitely more reliable than men. Men just disappointed you. In my first few relationships, this was definitely the case. The guys did disappoint me. Part of it was definitely that I picked slackers that had similar qualities to my dad and uncle. But part of it was me. I went into those relationships almost expecting to be disappointed. And whattya know, people will meet the expectations you have for them.
I never wanted to get married because I didn't want to be with a sorry ass slacker that I'd have to take care of. Who wants to babysit an adult like my mom babysat my dad until she got fed up with him? I realized that I wasn't going to compromise on any of the qualities I wanted in a life-long partner. I was worth someone of high quality who deserved me as much as I deserved him. I deserved someone who wouldn't disappoint me on a regular basis. I would date, but unless I found *the one*, I wasn't going to get married. I'd rather be a happy spinster than a miserable person in a marriage I hated.
When I met my husband, I was doubtful. He was good in those many ways that people don't obviously recognize. If you ask a teenage girl of 18 what she's looking for in a guy, she'll probably say good-looking, has money, good future. My list was a bit different, and it was shaped from my early experiences with my dad and uncle. It was a list that had such things as reliable, dependable, fun but not crazy wild, pays his bills, does the things he says he's going to do, a solid work ethic, attractive, motivated, educated, industrious, helps the old lady at the supermarket to reach something on the high shelf. While I never actually wrote out the list, this is my mental measuring tape that I'd put every guy up against. And honestly most failed miserably. Miserably. Even the good ones I had met couldn't score all of those on the list. They were good enough to do so-so on the list, and I pleasantly passed the time with the guys who at least got a 50-75%. I honestly never thought I'd meet someone who would get 100%, and if I did, he'd most certainly be married or gay or in the monastery. But when I met my husband and realized he did fulfill all of my nerdy, thoughtful 18 year old criteria for a guy, I had a sense of hope that I wasn't resigned to a string of 50%ers for the rest of my life. I wouldn't have to compromise.
So this post really comes down to wanting to thank my dad and uncle for filling me with such disappointment that I knew what I did not want at an early age in a life partner and making me realize what really was important. Thank you. And I'll take bets on when my uncle will call next. I'm thinking February or March.
Still, he perpetually filled me with disappointment. I know I didn't technically write that properly. No one can make you feel anything. You choose how you handle things. I know this. But when you're a little kid, you can't help some of your feelings, and I think a kid can be filled with disappointment. It disappointed me when he didn't call me for my birthday, or his Christmas checks bounced, or he said that he'd go get a pizza and not come back for 8 hours, or he dropped me off at the library and forgot about me for hours. See a theme of him forgetting about me? I only spent two weeks out of a year with him (technically his parents since he lived with them), but he still forgot about me in those two weeks. That kind of stuff does disappoint a kid. I did intellectually understand that my dad operated like a 5 year old, but it still disappointed me that I couldn't count on him...ever.
His younger brother, my uncle, had fewer problems than my dad. I wouldn't necessarily call him the most "with it" person, but he seemed light years ahead of my dad back when I was a kid. My uncle, for instance, would remember to feed me, and he wouldn't drop me off and leave me in a public place for hours on end when he went to the bar to get drunk. When you're used to my dad, my uncle seemed almost like a pillar of responsibility. The thing with my uncle, though, is that he was always full of unfulfilled promises. He was a man of talk and not of action. So was my dad, but if my dad couldn't be trusted to follow through on something simple, you knew not to take any talk of the future seriously with him. But, see, my uncle would say seemingly not unrealistic things that were completely within the realm of possibility...and then not follow through. With people like that, it takes longer to not take them seriously. They have a good talk. The first few times they don't follow through, you let it slide and make excuses for them. After the tenth + time, you start realizing that people like that are at their core almost as unreliable as my dad but just disguise it better.
Since I live across the country from my uncle, our interaction is very limited. We talk a couple of times a year. It's funny because every time we talk he laments that I'm the only living relative other than his son, and he likes keeping that connection because I'm the only one who remembers most things that happened in the past. Yet he doesn't call. We talked in early August. At the time, he assured me that he'd call on Labor Day Weekend. After decades of unfulfilled promises by him, I knew that he wouldn't call when he said he would. Because that's just how he is. I didn't dwell on Labor Day when he didn't call, but about a week after I remembered that he said he'd call. Oh well, I didn't expect him to anyway, but it still annoyed me because he said he would.
He actually did call...on December 13. I'm pretty sure the only reason he called because his wife prompted him to get my new address for their Christmas card. On that call, he said he would call on Christmas. Uh huh, sure, I've heard that one before. And guess what? He didn't. Not that I expected him to, but it still disappoints me just a tad. It adds one more small thing to a humongous pile of disappointments having to do with my dad's side of the family. Yeah, I know I could have called him. That really wasn't the point, though.
So all of this disappointment was in me when I was a teenager. Fair or unfair, right or wrong, I had compartmentalized it all simply as women were infinitely more reliable than men. Men just disappointed you. In my first few relationships, this was definitely the case. The guys did disappoint me. Part of it was definitely that I picked slackers that had similar qualities to my dad and uncle. But part of it was me. I went into those relationships almost expecting to be disappointed. And whattya know, people will meet the expectations you have for them.
I never wanted to get married because I didn't want to be with a sorry ass slacker that I'd have to take care of. Who wants to babysit an adult like my mom babysat my dad until she got fed up with him? I realized that I wasn't going to compromise on any of the qualities I wanted in a life-long partner. I was worth someone of high quality who deserved me as much as I deserved him. I deserved someone who wouldn't disappoint me on a regular basis. I would date, but unless I found *the one*, I wasn't going to get married. I'd rather be a happy spinster than a miserable person in a marriage I hated.
When I met my husband, I was doubtful. He was good in those many ways that people don't obviously recognize. If you ask a teenage girl of 18 what she's looking for in a guy, she'll probably say good-looking, has money, good future. My list was a bit different, and it was shaped from my early experiences with my dad and uncle. It was a list that had such things as reliable, dependable, fun but not crazy wild, pays his bills, does the things he says he's going to do, a solid work ethic, attractive, motivated, educated, industrious, helps the old lady at the supermarket to reach something on the high shelf. While I never actually wrote out the list, this is my mental measuring tape that I'd put every guy up against. And honestly most failed miserably. Miserably. Even the good ones I had met couldn't score all of those on the list. They were good enough to do so-so on the list, and I pleasantly passed the time with the guys who at least got a 50-75%. I honestly never thought I'd meet someone who would get 100%, and if I did, he'd most certainly be married or gay or in the monastery. But when I met my husband and realized he did fulfill all of my nerdy, thoughtful 18 year old criteria for a guy, I had a sense of hope that I wasn't resigned to a string of 50%ers for the rest of my life. I wouldn't have to compromise.
So this post really comes down to wanting to thank my dad and uncle for filling me with such disappointment that I knew what I did not want at an early age in a life partner and making me realize what really was important. Thank you. And I'll take bets on when my uncle will call next. I'm thinking February or March.
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
The Kids Are All Right
Last night I got sucked into a really good book for the Dewey project: The Kids Are All Right (not to be confused by the 2010 movie of the same name...different plot entirely). It was a memoir from 4 siblings who lost their father and then their mother within the span of three years. The kids were of varying ages, from 4 years old to 16 years old, and the tragedies affected them in different ways. The memoir rotates through the four siblings' perspectives. Liz tends to write the most and is the best writer of the bunch although having the different tones makes it easier to read because you essentially know who is writing that passage just by the writing style.
I love teen angst. There's a whole lot of it in this book. I also like people who find their own way and learn from their experiences. After all, angst is just angst if you don't use it to better yourself. Maybe it's better if I say I like directed angst that is overcome.
All in all, I really liked this book. Was it earth shaking? No. Did it wallow just a bit too much? Yes. Was it engaging and interesting? Yes.
I love teen angst. There's a whole lot of it in this book. I also like people who find their own way and learn from their experiences. After all, angst is just angst if you don't use it to better yourself. Maybe it's better if I say I like directed angst that is overcome.
All in all, I really liked this book. Was it earth shaking? No. Did it wallow just a bit too much? Yes. Was it engaging and interesting? Yes.
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Tenth Batch of Dewey Entries
A few more books to add. I want to do separate entries on 2 of the books. One really, really surprised me. And one was eye-opening. Those entries will be on the docket soon.
Making My Way Through Dewey
00_
011.73 Pearl, Nancy. Book Lust.
020 Johnston, Marilyn. This Book Is Overdue.
031.02 Frauenfelder, Mark. The World's Worst.
04_
051 Fraterrigo, Elizabeth. Playboy and the Making of the Good Life in Modern America.
06_
07_
081 Rakoff, David. Don't Get Too Comfortable.
09_
10_
11_
121.63 Berger, Peter and Anton Zijderveld. In Praise of Doubt.
133 Horn, Stacy. Unbelievable.
14_
153.83 Welch, Suzy. 10-10-10.
158.2 Hotchkiss, Sandy. Why Is It Always About You?
158.2 Hotchkiss, Sandy. Why Is It Always About You?
16_
177.7 Stone, Deborah. The Samaritan's Dilemma.
18_
19_
200 Ward, Keith. Is Religion Dangerous?
21_
22_
23_
248.845 Neumann, Connie. Parenting in the Home Stretch.
255.1 Okholm, Dennis. Monk Habits for Everyday People.
261.850973 Zacharias, Karen Spears. Will Jesus Buy Me a Double-Wide?
277.3083 Meyers, Robin. Why the Christian Right Is Wrong.
289.3082 Solomon, Dorothy Allred. The Sisterhood.
299.94 Russo, Steve. What's the Deal with Wicca?
302.34082 Paul, Marla. The Friendship Crisis.
305.4092 Merrill, Wendy. Falling into Manholes.
305.4092 Merrill, Wendy. Falling into Manholes.
310 Statistical Abstract of the United States: 2009.
327.73009 Dobbs, Lou. Exporting America.
332.02401 Epperson, Sharon. The Big Payoff.
343.730523 Lange, James. Retire Secure.
352.480973 Rivlin, Alice and Isabel Sawhill. Restoring Fiscal Sanity.
362.196852 Schaefer, Jenni. Goodbye Ed, Hello Me.
378.19822 Peril, Lynn. College Girls.
381.120973 Mitchell, Stacy. Big Box Swindle.
392.6 Shapiro, Bill. Other People's Love Letters.
400 Bickerton, Derek. Language and Human Behavior.
417.2 Battistella, Edwin. Bad Language.
428.13 Jackson, R. W. You Say Tomato.
43_
44_
45_
46_
478.2421 Goldman, Norma W. English Grammar for Students of Latin.
48_
49_
500 Goodstein, David. On Fact and Fraud.
51_
52_
53_
54_
55_
56_
57_
58_
59_
608 Cooper, Christopher. Patently Absurd.
612 McCardle, William D, Frank I. Katch, Victor L. Katch. Essentials of Exercise Physiology.
621.38456 Baig, Edward C. iPhone for Dummies.
636.7527 Koontz, Dean. A Big Little Life: A Memoir of a Joyful Dog.
641.58 Hall, Dawn. Busy People's Slow Cooker Cookbook.
658.812 Price, Bill and David Jaffe. The Best Service Is No Service.
663.61 Gleick, Peter H. Bottled & Sold: The Story Behind Our Obsession with Bottled Water.
67_
68_
695 Ortho's All About Roofing and Siding Basics.
701.18 Barbe-Gall, Francoise. How To Talk to Children About Art.
712.60973 Great Gardens.
728 Koones, Sheri. Modular Mansions.
739.27075 Schiffer. Popular Jewelry of the 60s, 70s and 80s.
74_
750.11 Richardson, Joy. Looking at Pictures.
76_
771.33 Revell, Jeff. Nikon D5000: From Snapshots to Great Shots.
782.421649 McQuillar, Tayannah Lee. When Rap Music Had a Conscience.
794.000 Orbanes, Philip E. Monopoly: The World's Most Famous Game.
80_
817.000 Scottoline, Lisa. Why My Third Husband Will Be a Dog.
828.92 Browning, Guy. Never Hit a Jellyfish with a Spade.
83_
84_
85_
86_
87_
88_
89_
902 Hendriksson, Anders. Non Campus Mentis.
910.4 Leffel, Tim. Make Your Travel Dollars Worth a Fortune.
929.2097472 Welch Kids. The Kids Are All Right.
937 Nardo, Don. Life of a Roman Slave.
940.21 Netzley, Patricia D. Life During the Renaissance.
956.7044 Life. Last Letters Home.
966.9 Heinrichs, Ann. Nigeria: Enchantment of the World.
973.92 Strauss, William and Elaina Newport. Sixteen Scandals.
979.777 Historical Society of Federal Way. Images of America: Federal Way.
979.777 Historical Society of Federal Way. Images of America: Federal Way.
985 Takacs, Stefanie. The Inca.
993 Masson, Jeffrey Moussaieff. Slipping into Paradise: Why I Live in New Zealand.
Monday, December 27, 2010
Empty
My mind is empty. Just empty. Not from exhaustion, or being "done," or sadness, or anything. I'm just blank for no reason, and I take that as a good thing. I'm not run down or overwhelmed. I just am.
However, a blank mind is not good for blogging because, well, there is nothing to blog about. I'll be regrouping soon and either coming up with a to-do list or a cool book I read or a complaint. Don't you worry, I'll be back with something.
I was quite proud of myself because I got a 2011 goal done before 2011. Yep, I made that list of 10 goals for 2011, which I'm too lazy to link to. Well, I actually finished one! It would be the goal about redoing the retirement account asset allocation. One evening in the past weekend I laid it all out and pounded it out. So everything should be all good for a while. Let's hope I don't go 2.5 years without looking at it again! I doubt it will go that long since, well, I don't think I'll be having another baby and buying a fixer upper back-to-back in the near future.
Hope everyone is doing great! May you have a plethora of Christmas leftovers to see you through to the new year.
However, a blank mind is not good for blogging because, well, there is nothing to blog about. I'll be regrouping soon and either coming up with a to-do list or a cool book I read or a complaint. Don't you worry, I'll be back with something.
I was quite proud of myself because I got a 2011 goal done before 2011. Yep, I made that list of 10 goals for 2011, which I'm too lazy to link to. Well, I actually finished one! It would be the goal about redoing the retirement account asset allocation. One evening in the past weekend I laid it all out and pounded it out. So everything should be all good for a while. Let's hope I don't go 2.5 years without looking at it again! I doubt it will go that long since, well, I don't think I'll be having another baby and buying a fixer upper back-to-back in the near future.
Hope everyone is doing great! May you have a plethora of Christmas leftovers to see you through to the new year.
Saturday, December 25, 2010
Holiday Rundown
Hiya, I just got back from a Christmas walk. It's been so long since I've taken a walk by myself. It's just the thing to make me feel so much more alive. There's something about the crisp wind, seeing the lights in person, and enjoying the peace and quiet while strolling around the neighborhood. And it's excellent thinking time. I love my thinking time, I adore my thinking time, I need my thinking time.
Christmas was all good here. We had my mom, stepdad, and some friends over. Julia loved the adoration of 6 adults. I enjoyed the peace of everyone getting along. Everyone seemed to enjoy the ham (I was the lone ham abstainer). S's brother's family didn't end up coming. I know S would have liked to see his brother, but I must say there is less drama and consternation without the brother's wife. S's parents are stuck on the island due to flight schedules.
We made cookies for Santa yesterday, and Mommy ate most of them by this morning. My mom made raisin bars yesterday, and I ate most of them by this afternoon. My husband got me a big chocolate Hershey kiss, and that was gone by this evening. See a theme? I'm gonna have to get back on the working out routine if I want to lose the 4 lbs I was away from my personal goal + the 3 lbs I gained in the past week. Yeah, I've got to lose 7 lbs now. Ugh ugh ugh
Julia's favorite present was a laptop. It's not a real laptop; sheesh, we're not overindulgent. It's a laptop for a preschooler, and she LOVES it. In fact, she's slept with it last night, took it to church last night, nap today, and to bed tonight. She appropriated the lunchbox she got to be her laptop case. Oh my, she's such a freaking nerd!
Hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas (if you celebrate it)!
Christmas was all good here. We had my mom, stepdad, and some friends over. Julia loved the adoration of 6 adults. I enjoyed the peace of everyone getting along. Everyone seemed to enjoy the ham (I was the lone ham abstainer). S's brother's family didn't end up coming. I know S would have liked to see his brother, but I must say there is less drama and consternation without the brother's wife. S's parents are stuck on the island due to flight schedules.
We made cookies for Santa yesterday, and Mommy ate most of them by this morning. My mom made raisin bars yesterday, and I ate most of them by this afternoon. My husband got me a big chocolate Hershey kiss, and that was gone by this evening. See a theme? I'm gonna have to get back on the working out routine if I want to lose the 4 lbs I was away from my personal goal + the 3 lbs I gained in the past week. Yeah, I've got to lose 7 lbs now. Ugh ugh ugh
Julia's favorite present was a laptop. It's not a real laptop; sheesh, we're not overindulgent. It's a laptop for a preschooler, and she LOVES it. In fact, she's slept with it last night, took it to church last night, nap today, and to bed tonight. She appropriated the lunchbox she got to be her laptop case. Oh my, she's such a freaking nerd!
Hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas (if you celebrate it)!
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Values vs. Interests
I married my husband for a number of reasons, but the main reason is that we have very compatible values. We look at the world with a similar perspective, we valued such things as hard work and determination, we both value each other's opinions and respect each other. As cynical as I was growing up, I believe I met my soulmate.
However...we share about ZERO common interests. Our interests are night and day. The prospect of even going out to a movie is agonizing for us. He likes science fiction and sappy ass romantic comedies. I like Seth Rogen pot smoking comedy and most of the horror genre. We can sometimes split the difference with psychological thrillers, but only sometimes. I don't do political thrillers, and he doesn't really do supernatural thrillers. Music is the same way. Guess who listens to country, and it ain't me. He freaking loves whiny women singing, and I can't stand them. He's not hip to gangsta rap and 80s pop. He likes martial arts; I'm not fond of it. I like to bake; he doesn't like baked goods. Right now the only thing we like to do together is watch "Big Bang Theory."
People find it odd that we don't like the same things. We know that we share a whole value system, and that's more important than agreeing on the latest movie. I'm fine with doing things solo or with friends who share my interests. He is too. It probably keeps us sane to have that time to develop our own interests.
I must confess that I like setting up posts that look like they're going one way and then detour to a more obscure area. Today is one of those that will be on a more obscure path.
S's brother. If anyone would use interests to match people up, I would be matched with S's brother instead of S. I actually share a lot of interests with Brother. We have similar tastes in entertainment, I like to bake/he likes to eat baked goods. For those interests we don't share, I think I could easily warm up to his. For instance, I'm not a baseball fan, but if I had to pick a sport to be interested in, I would definitely pick baseball like Brother would. I would never pick martial arts, like my husband would.
Yes, Brother and I are very compatible as far as interests go. As values go, we are very opposite. I chose values over interests very intentionally, and I know I won't regret that decision.
I like Brother. He's a nice person. He's a crappy decision-maker, but that doesn't really affect me because I didn't marry him. I wouldn't ever choose him to raise my child because of the values differences, but again that doesn't really affect me because I didn't have kids with him.
I have always been able to understand him. It's been eerie. As in, I know what he's going to say before he says it. It's like I know what he's thinking. Sometimes this is bad because Brother's train of thought goes places I don't necessarily want to go. But I always know where it's going. Sometimes in group conversations, Brother brings things up, and I know exactly where he is and add to it in a meaningful way. And he just looks at me amazed, and then his wife says something to puts him down, and the subject changes. But for a microsecond he senses my understanding of him, and I can see a bit of relief in him that there is someone that "gets" him.
Brother is one of those people who I could be a really good friend to. I could get him to say things he's never told anyone. And we would probably have a lot of fun together if we did activities together. I am 100% confident I could get him to open up to me through doing a common interest, like going to a concert where a singer from the 80s is performing. I think he really needs to open up to someone, just not sure I'm the right person.
Well, I know I'm not the right person. Brother is craving for someone to understand him because his wife certainly doesn't. I understand him, and I think he recognizes a glimmer of that now and if he really knew how much I could understand his situation, it could become a very messy situation for him. So it's just better that I call him an ass and keep as most emotional distance as possible.
However...we share about ZERO common interests. Our interests are night and day. The prospect of even going out to a movie is agonizing for us. He likes science fiction and sappy ass romantic comedies. I like Seth Rogen pot smoking comedy and most of the horror genre. We can sometimes split the difference with psychological thrillers, but only sometimes. I don't do political thrillers, and he doesn't really do supernatural thrillers. Music is the same way. Guess who listens to country, and it ain't me. He freaking loves whiny women singing, and I can't stand them. He's not hip to gangsta rap and 80s pop. He likes martial arts; I'm not fond of it. I like to bake; he doesn't like baked goods. Right now the only thing we like to do together is watch "Big Bang Theory."
People find it odd that we don't like the same things. We know that we share a whole value system, and that's more important than agreeing on the latest movie. I'm fine with doing things solo or with friends who share my interests. He is too. It probably keeps us sane to have that time to develop our own interests.
I must confess that I like setting up posts that look like they're going one way and then detour to a more obscure area. Today is one of those that will be on a more obscure path.
S's brother. If anyone would use interests to match people up, I would be matched with S's brother instead of S. I actually share a lot of interests with Brother. We have similar tastes in entertainment, I like to bake/he likes to eat baked goods. For those interests we don't share, I think I could easily warm up to his. For instance, I'm not a baseball fan, but if I had to pick a sport to be interested in, I would definitely pick baseball like Brother would. I would never pick martial arts, like my husband would.
Yes, Brother and I are very compatible as far as interests go. As values go, we are very opposite. I chose values over interests very intentionally, and I know I won't regret that decision.
I like Brother. He's a nice person. He's a crappy decision-maker, but that doesn't really affect me because I didn't marry him. I wouldn't ever choose him to raise my child because of the values differences, but again that doesn't really affect me because I didn't have kids with him.
I have always been able to understand him. It's been eerie. As in, I know what he's going to say before he says it. It's like I know what he's thinking. Sometimes this is bad because Brother's train of thought goes places I don't necessarily want to go. But I always know where it's going. Sometimes in group conversations, Brother brings things up, and I know exactly where he is and add to it in a meaningful way. And he just looks at me amazed, and then his wife says something to puts him down, and the subject changes. But for a microsecond he senses my understanding of him, and I can see a bit of relief in him that there is someone that "gets" him.
Brother is one of those people who I could be a really good friend to. I could get him to say things he's never told anyone. And we would probably have a lot of fun together if we did activities together. I am 100% confident I could get him to open up to me through doing a common interest, like going to a concert where a singer from the 80s is performing. I think he really needs to open up to someone, just not sure I'm the right person.
Well, I know I'm not the right person. Brother is craving for someone to understand him because his wife certainly doesn't. I understand him, and I think he recognizes a glimmer of that now and if he really knew how much I could understand his situation, it could become a very messy situation for him. So it's just better that I call him an ass and keep as most emotional distance as possible.
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Ninth Batch of Dewey Entries
Ninth batch. Nothing terribly interesting except for a historical book about the city I've lived in for many years. It was great seeing old pictures from 100 years ago where there was a logging camp and now, ya know, there's a Chevron station.
Making My Way Through Dewey
00_
011.73 Pearl, Nancy. Book Lust.
020 Johnston, Marilyn. This Book Is Overdue.
031.02 Frauenfelder, Mark. The World's Worst.
04_
051 Fraterrigo, Elizabeth. Playboy and the Making of the Good Life in Modern America.
06_
07_
081 Rakoff, David. Don't Get Too Comfortable.
09_
10_
11_
121.63 Berger, Peter and Anton Zijderveld. In Praise of Doubt.
133 Horn, Stacy. Unbelievable.
14_
153.83 Welch, Suzy. 10-10-10.
16_
177.7 Stone, Deborah. The Samaritan's Dilemma.
18_
19_
200 Ward, Keith. Is Religion Dangerous?
21_
22_
23_
248.845 Neumann, Connie. Parenting in the Home Stretch.
255.1 Okholm, Dennis. Monk Habits for Everyday People.
261.850973 Zacharias, Karen Spears. Will Jesus Buy Me a Double-Wide?
277.3083 Meyers, Robin. Why the Christian Right Is Wrong.
289.3082 Solomon, Dorothy Allred. The Sisterhood.
299.94 Russo, Steve. What's the Deal with Wicca?
302.34082 Paul, Marla. The Friendship Crisis.
305.4092 Merrill, Wendy. Falling into Manholes.
305.4092 Merrill, Wendy. Falling into Manholes.
310 Statistical Abstract of the United States: 2009.
327.73009 Dobbs, Lou. Exporting America.
332.02401 Epperson, Sharon. The Big Payoff.
343.730523 Lange, James. Retire Secure.
352.480973 Rivlin, Alice and Isabel Sawhill. Restoring Fiscal Sanity.
362.196852 Schaefer, Jenni. Goodbye Ed, Hello Me.
378.19822 Peril, Lynn. College Girls.
381.120973 Mitchell, Stacy. Big Box Swindle.
392.6 Shapiro, Bill. Other People's Love Letters.
400 Bickerton, Derek. Language and Human Behavior.
417.2 Battistella, Edwin. Bad Language.
428.13 Jackson, R. W. You Say Tomato.
43_
44_
45_
46_
478.2421 Goldman, Norma W. English Grammar for Students of Latin.
48_
49_
500 Goodstein, David. On Fact and Fraud.
51_
52_
53_
54_
55_
56_
57_
58_
59_
608 Cooper, Christopher. Patently Absurd.
612 McCardle, William D, Frank I. Katch, Victor L. Katch. Essentials of Exercise Physiology.
621.38456 Baig, Edward C. iPhone for Dummies.
636.7527 Koontz, Dean. A Big Little Life: A Memoir of a Joyful Dog.
641.58 Hall, Dawn. Busy People's Slow Cooker Cookbook.
658.812 Price, Bill and David Jaffe. The Best Service Is No Service.
663.61 Gleick, Peter H. Bottled & Sold: The Story Behind Our Obsession with Bottled Water.
67_
68_
695 Ortho's All About Roofing and Siding Basics.
70_
712.60973 Great Gardens.
728 Koones, Sheri. Modular Mansions.
73_
74_
750.11 Richardson, Joy. Looking at Pictures.
76_
771.33 Revell, Jeff. Nikon D5000: From Snapshots to Great Shots.
782.421649 McQuillar, Tayannah Lee. When Rap Music Had a Conscience.
794.000 Orbanes, Philip E. Monopoly: The World's Most Famous Game.
80_
817.000 Scottoline, Lisa. Why My Third Husband Will Be a Dog.
828.92 Browning, Guy. Never Hit a Jellyfish with a Spade.
83_
84_
85_
86_
87_
88_
89_
902 Hendriksson, Anders. Non Campus Mentis.
910.4 Leffel, Tim. Make Your Travel Dollars Worth a Fortune.
92_
937 Nardo, Don. Life of a Roman Slave.
940.21 Netzley, Patricia D. Life During the Renaissance.
956.7044 Life. Last Letters Home.
966.9 Heinrichs, Ann. Nigeria: Enchantment of the World.
973.92 Strauss, William and Elaina Newport. Sixteen Scandals.
979.777 Historical Society of Federal Way. Images of America: Federal Way.
979.777 Historical Society of Federal Way. Images of America: Federal Way.
985 Takacs, Stefanie. The Inca.
99_
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Gosh gosh gosh
No work for 13 more days! Woohoo! I didn't technically work today, but there was Julia's first dentist appt (epic tragedy) + a gingerbread house playdate for 10 kids (went well, but it completely tapped me out after the dentist). Let us not forget the most epic poop ever at the library. My child doesn't poop in public...ordinarily. We had been out all day, and she does really, really like the library... And she hadn't pooped in 2 days.... Ummm, she even got poop on her socks, it was that kind of epic poop. I'm kinda *done* after the epic day even though it was technically a vacation day.
Matchmaking. It's an interesting activity. You are friends with one person, you are friends with another person, they're both single, you put them together. Or maybe you just think about it. I don't know about you, but like everything in my life, I take matchmaking seriously. As in, the implications are big, so only do it if you're fairly confident of what the results would be. After all, it could be an epic fail and then you could lose TWO friends. Not good. For me, the criteria is not just having 2 single friends. I have been asked if I know someone to fix someone else up with many, many times. I often DO know "someone," but unless I know a "someone" that is also a good fit for the person who's asking, then I don't really even consider it. I'm not of the philosophy that "someone" is better than no one just because both people are single. I know, I have standards. (sigh)
I have only participated in matchmaking one time. It was in my first year away from college. Why did I do it?
HE: Offbeat, hard to get to know by most people's standards, intelligent but not in the typical way, interested in science fiction, kinda goth, vacillates between being a loner and a player but at heart just wants to be with someone special, kinda passive
SHE: Offbeat, hard to get to know by most people's standards, intelligent in the typical way, interested in science fiction, impulsive, wants to be in a relationship, not passive
I had known each person for about six months before I set them up. And I knew each person well. That is one thing I am good at - I can figure out what makes a person tick quickly and accurately. I maneuvered the whole set-up pretty well too. I told him what I was up to; I didn't tell her what I was up to because I thought she'd flee. It worked out quite well since they started dating within a week of me introducing them. However, two weeks into it, things fizzled. She flipped out over something and wouldn't talk about him ever again. You know me, I can get anything out of anyone, and she would not crack. He was fine with talking about it, but he didn't know what had happened at all. No clue. I relentlessly questioned him to no avail. I stayed friends with both of them afterward although I couldn't ever talk about him with her.
In the abridged version of this story, he and I stayed good friends. The girl, on the other hand, fell off the face of this earth in 2000. It turned out that she actually had met some guy on the Internet in 2000, and she went away to live with him in Florida. In 2007, she contacted me through Myspace. She regretted the guy in Florida, and all of these years she has thought about the guy she was with for 2 weeks in college. Of course I was still in contact with him. I reconnected them, she moved back to Seattle in July of 2007, and they've been together for the last 3+ years.
On Sunday they told us they are engaged.
They want to elope in 2011. They don't want to involve their families. Not because they have any family issues, but rather they want to do their wedding their way, plus their finances aren't that great. So my lovely husband and I will be their witnesses when they elope. Gosh I love being in on secret plans. Gosh I would have loved to have eloped myself instead of having a family-filled, drama-filled wedding. Gosh I am an awesome matchmaker.
Gosh gosh gosh gosh.
Matchmaking. It's an interesting activity. You are friends with one person, you are friends with another person, they're both single, you put them together. Or maybe you just think about it. I don't know about you, but like everything in my life, I take matchmaking seriously. As in, the implications are big, so only do it if you're fairly confident of what the results would be. After all, it could be an epic fail and then you could lose TWO friends. Not good. For me, the criteria is not just having 2 single friends. I have been asked if I know someone to fix someone else up with many, many times. I often DO know "someone," but unless I know a "someone" that is also a good fit for the person who's asking, then I don't really even consider it. I'm not of the philosophy that "someone" is better than no one just because both people are single. I know, I have standards. (sigh)
I have only participated in matchmaking one time. It was in my first year away from college. Why did I do it?
HE: Offbeat, hard to get to know by most people's standards, intelligent but not in the typical way, interested in science fiction, kinda goth, vacillates between being a loner and a player but at heart just wants to be with someone special, kinda passive
SHE: Offbeat, hard to get to know by most people's standards, intelligent in the typical way, interested in science fiction, impulsive, wants to be in a relationship, not passive
I had known each person for about six months before I set them up. And I knew each person well. That is one thing I am good at - I can figure out what makes a person tick quickly and accurately. I maneuvered the whole set-up pretty well too. I told him what I was up to; I didn't tell her what I was up to because I thought she'd flee. It worked out quite well since they started dating within a week of me introducing them. However, two weeks into it, things fizzled. She flipped out over something and wouldn't talk about him ever again. You know me, I can get anything out of anyone, and she would not crack. He was fine with talking about it, but he didn't know what had happened at all. No clue. I relentlessly questioned him to no avail. I stayed friends with both of them afterward although I couldn't ever talk about him with her.
In the abridged version of this story, he and I stayed good friends. The girl, on the other hand, fell off the face of this earth in 2000. It turned out that she actually had met some guy on the Internet in 2000, and she went away to live with him in Florida. In 2007, she contacted me through Myspace. She regretted the guy in Florida, and all of these years she has thought about the guy she was with for 2 weeks in college. Of course I was still in contact with him. I reconnected them, she moved back to Seattle in July of 2007, and they've been together for the last 3+ years.
On Sunday they told us they are engaged.
They want to elope in 2011. They don't want to involve their families. Not because they have any family issues, but rather they want to do their wedding their way, plus their finances aren't that great. So my lovely husband and I will be their witnesses when they elope. Gosh I love being in on secret plans. Gosh I would have loved to have eloped myself instead of having a family-filled, drama-filled wedding. Gosh I am an awesome matchmaker.
Gosh gosh gosh gosh.
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Be back soon
I have at least 2 things to blog about, but I'm more tired than usual tonight. And I want to try to do both topics justice because they deserve that. Tomorrow is my Monday AND Friday with 2 weeks off starting on Tuesday, so I'll definitely be back soon.
Friday, December 17, 2010
Stella the Scale is Smoking Crack
You may have noticed that I'm "trying" to lose weight and am challenging myself to hit a personal goal by not letting myself change my picture until I do. You might think I have a lofty weight loss goal considering how long I've been trying to get off this weight. Oh no. My goal isn't so terribly lofty. It vacillates between 3.6 - 4.3 pounds, which in my world is not much. It's one freaking stomach virus away from hitting that goal! I'd really like 10 more pounds on top of that. But I'm not gonna be picky, I'll take the 3-4 pounds happily and then (mostly) shut up.
I named my scale Stella when I got her two years ago. About 18 months ago, I got to the weight I'm at now, and Stella stopped moving. She'd add 2 pounds occasionally, subtract 2 pounds (but only if she added 2 pounds first). I've changed her batteries numerous times, and I even bought a second scale because I thought Stella was STUCK. Every time I got on her, I got the same stupid reading.
I wish the point of this post was to say that I'm finally un-stuck. Of course I'm still hanging out at the same exact weight I've been for the past 18 months.
No, the point of this is that Stella also gives you your body fat %. This is totally different than BMI. BMI is based on your height and weight. I don't really focus on this number because, like any girl, I focus on the stupid weight number. A month ago Stella told me that my body fat % was X%. Yesterday morning Stella told me that my body fat was X-5%. My weight was exactly the same both times. The X-5% figure puts me in the "fitness" range on the body fat% scale, which is under the "average" range. The X% figure puts me at the top of the "average" range. Note that both of these figures don't say I'm overweight although my BMI is technically overweight by a few pounds.
Now I'm just freaking confused. Are body fat scales unreliable? I Googled that, and basically what I found said that the most accurate method is the underwater method, which is really expensive. They say that if you use the same scale each time that it is comparable even if it's a little bit off from the underwater method. And calipers have operator error. So basically I took from it that unless Stella is having issues or smoking crack, it should at least be a gauge to see the direction my body fat is going.
In the past month, this would all make more sense if I had been focusing on strength training. Sure, I lifted some weights, but no more than usual. I actually focused more on the elliptical.
This morning I'm weighing myself just to see that body fat %. Maybe today it will back up to X%. Maybe it will be a little less. Of course I'd be thrilled to find out that I'm in the X-5% "fitness" range. I'll try not to get my hopes up and will report back.
UPDATE: Body fat % was the same as yesterday's (X-5%). I'm the same weight though. I guess I'm cautiously whooping for joy that I have a body fat % that is in the "fitness" range. Who would have thought I would ever have a body fat % that was less than the average person? Weird.
I named my scale Stella when I got her two years ago. About 18 months ago, I got to the weight I'm at now, and Stella stopped moving. She'd add 2 pounds occasionally, subtract 2 pounds (but only if she added 2 pounds first). I've changed her batteries numerous times, and I even bought a second scale because I thought Stella was STUCK. Every time I got on her, I got the same stupid reading.
I wish the point of this post was to say that I'm finally un-stuck. Of course I'm still hanging out at the same exact weight I've been for the past 18 months.
No, the point of this is that Stella also gives you your body fat %. This is totally different than BMI. BMI is based on your height and weight. I don't really focus on this number because, like any girl, I focus on the stupid weight number. A month ago Stella told me that my body fat % was X%. Yesterday morning Stella told me that my body fat was X-5%. My weight was exactly the same both times. The X-5% figure puts me in the "fitness" range on the body fat% scale, which is under the "average" range. The X% figure puts me at the top of the "average" range. Note that both of these figures don't say I'm overweight although my BMI is technically overweight by a few pounds.
Now I'm just freaking confused. Are body fat scales unreliable? I Googled that, and basically what I found said that the most accurate method is the underwater method, which is really expensive. They say that if you use the same scale each time that it is comparable even if it's a little bit off from the underwater method. And calipers have operator error. So basically I took from it that unless Stella is having issues or smoking crack, it should at least be a gauge to see the direction my body fat is going.
In the past month, this would all make more sense if I had been focusing on strength training. Sure, I lifted some weights, but no more than usual. I actually focused more on the elliptical.
This morning I'm weighing myself just to see that body fat %. Maybe today it will back up to X%. Maybe it will be a little less. Of course I'd be thrilled to find out that I'm in the X-5% "fitness" range. I'll try not to get my hopes up and will report back.
UPDATE: Body fat % was the same as yesterday's (X-5%). I'm the same weight though. I guess I'm cautiously whooping for joy that I have a body fat % that is in the "fitness" range. Who would have thought I would ever have a body fat % that was less than the average person? Weird.
Thursday, December 16, 2010
No Christmas Letter
I wrote up a Christmas letter for our holiday cards. I really did. But when it came down to it, it just doesn't make sense to do. Most people keep up with us through Facebook. If you don't, you're missing out on some exciting stuff. ;)
I don't understand the tone of Christmas letters. What person is it written in? Third person omniscient, first person, rotating narrator... Then you've got the actual tone where you don't want to sound like you're bragging. So I read each sentence and try to figure out the worst it could be construed from any angle. I find self-deprecating works well. I do self-deprecating first person as much as possible. Then I sound suicidal. So I try to put in some juice, and then I sound egotistical. At that point, I ask myself why I'm doing this. Oh yeah, to start World War III via my Christmas letter. So not worth it, let's scrap the Christmas letter.
Christmas letter scrapped. If you read my blog, you know in general what is up with me. If you read my Facebook statuses, you probably have an okay idea as well. I don't need to go into any more detail than that.
It might be nice to do a philosophical Christmas letter or a Christmas letter that focuses on retirement planning readiness (just for the shock value). Alas, I will instead just not do any letter. However, I do have a rockin' holiday card this year thanks to my expressive little girl!
I don't understand the tone of Christmas letters. What person is it written in? Third person omniscient, first person, rotating narrator... Then you've got the actual tone where you don't want to sound like you're bragging. So I read each sentence and try to figure out the worst it could be construed from any angle. I find self-deprecating works well. I do self-deprecating first person as much as possible. Then I sound suicidal. So I try to put in some juice, and then I sound egotistical. At that point, I ask myself why I'm doing this. Oh yeah, to start World War III via my Christmas letter. So not worth it, let's scrap the Christmas letter.
Christmas letter scrapped. If you read my blog, you know in general what is up with me. If you read my Facebook statuses, you probably have an okay idea as well. I don't need to go into any more detail than that.
It might be nice to do a philosophical Christmas letter or a Christmas letter that focuses on retirement planning readiness (just for the shock value). Alas, I will instead just not do any letter. However, I do have a rockin' holiday card this year thanks to my expressive little girl!
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
In-Law Suspense
I really like suspense. I love reading scary books, I love watching scary movies, I love the anticipation that comes with wondering if something will happen or not.
However, I am not fond of in-law suspense. It's the same darn suspense all the time. Will they or won't they show?
S's parents can fly pretty cheap with his sister's flight benefits. That's cool because we don't want to have to fly to them. Been there, lived in a desert already, got that t-shirt, don't want another of that t-shirt, live happily in your desert and don't ever expect us to visit. That's my policy on visiting deserts. Plus if you can fly for $30 and are 2 people vs. us flying for $1,000 and having a toddler, it just makes more sense for you to come here. And don't feel hurt that we're not visiting you because we haven't gone out of the state when work hasn't paid the tab in the last 5 years.
The downside to this arrangement is that we never know if or when they are coming. See, the plan back in late October was that they would fly overseas to see S's sister and crew (the same ones that stayed at our house this summer), then on Christmas Day they would leave there and come here on Christmas Day since they are crossing the international date line. They even had the audacity to say they would be on the 10am flight. And they want us to have a huge family gathering at our house on Christmas Day.
I laughed when S told me this. Because they are flying standby on freaking CHRISTMAS! There's no way that plan is going to work. And I'm not going to do a huge Christmas meal because in all likelihood they aren't going to make the flights.
So last week they call and say that the planes are looking full on Christmas now. Well, DUH! They go on to say that they're not sure when the flights are looking good to get out, so they may have to pay or use their miles to get out. Ok. And if they have to do that, they might as well go home instead of come here.
Huh? Why can't you pay or use your miles to get here? You'll be here for a few weeks, and then you can fly standby back to the desert. Of course, they hate being questioned on their crazy ass plans and my husband is too nice anyway, so he just said, "Okay."
And they sent Christmas gifts from overseas that arrived a couple of days ago. So I guess that means they aren't coming???
Given that Christmas is 10 days away, I want to know:
1. Will they be coming for Christmas?
2. If they are not coming for Christmas, will they be coming anytime in the December or January months?
3. Where in the heck do I send their Christmas gift if they aren't coming?
And the corollary to all this:
4. Why did you change your mind on coming up to see the 2 sons and the 3 grandkids?
Honestly it will be a whole less drama if they don't come. There's a lot of moving pieces that will be affected if they come. They aren't welcome up at S's brother's house because of crazy sister-in-law. That means they stay at our house, but then they feel like they can't see S's brother and his kids. So then we constantly get pressured to host favorite son and his kids every other day and have them stay over ...blah blah blah. Plus S's parents can't drive a stick shift and we both work anyway, so they would be without a car or have to rent a car. Sure, it would be great if they would see S and Julia. We were both open that they could stay here, so if they have changed their mind for some other reason (i.e., favorite son feeling like we get all of the time when they are in the area), then so be it. It's their choice.
Since we got mailed Christmas presents and have received the cautionary tale that they likely will just go straight home, I'm operating on the assumption that they aren't coming and won't be for several months. It kind of sucks that they choose to not see both of their sons and their 3 grandkids, but that is their choice. It's not mine.
And if this part of a manipulative and overbearing game on their part, I think we're fine saying, "okay, whatever."
However, I am not fond of in-law suspense. It's the same darn suspense all the time. Will they or won't they show?
S's parents can fly pretty cheap with his sister's flight benefits. That's cool because we don't want to have to fly to them. Been there, lived in a desert already, got that t-shirt, don't want another of that t-shirt, live happily in your desert and don't ever expect us to visit. That's my policy on visiting deserts. Plus if you can fly for $30 and are 2 people vs. us flying for $1,000 and having a toddler, it just makes more sense for you to come here. And don't feel hurt that we're not visiting you because we haven't gone out of the state when work hasn't paid the tab in the last 5 years.
The downside to this arrangement is that we never know if or when they are coming. See, the plan back in late October was that they would fly overseas to see S's sister and crew (the same ones that stayed at our house this summer), then on Christmas Day they would leave there and come here on Christmas Day since they are crossing the international date line. They even had the audacity to say they would be on the 10am flight. And they want us to have a huge family gathering at our house on Christmas Day.
I laughed when S told me this. Because they are flying standby on freaking CHRISTMAS! There's no way that plan is going to work. And I'm not going to do a huge Christmas meal because in all likelihood they aren't going to make the flights.
So last week they call and say that the planes are looking full on Christmas now. Well, DUH! They go on to say that they're not sure when the flights are looking good to get out, so they may have to pay or use their miles to get out. Ok. And if they have to do that, they might as well go home instead of come here.
Huh? Why can't you pay or use your miles to get here? You'll be here for a few weeks, and then you can fly standby back to the desert. Of course, they hate being questioned on their crazy ass plans and my husband is too nice anyway, so he just said, "Okay."
And they sent Christmas gifts from overseas that arrived a couple of days ago. So I guess that means they aren't coming???
Given that Christmas is 10 days away, I want to know:
1. Will they be coming for Christmas?
2. If they are not coming for Christmas, will they be coming anytime in the December or January months?
3. Where in the heck do I send their Christmas gift if they aren't coming?
And the corollary to all this:
4. Why did you change your mind on coming up to see the 2 sons and the 3 grandkids?
Honestly it will be a whole less drama if they don't come. There's a lot of moving pieces that will be affected if they come. They aren't welcome up at S's brother's house because of crazy sister-in-law. That means they stay at our house, but then they feel like they can't see S's brother and his kids. So then we constantly get pressured to host favorite son and his kids every other day and have them stay over ...blah blah blah. Plus S's parents can't drive a stick shift and we both work anyway, so they would be without a car or have to rent a car. Sure, it would be great if they would see S and Julia. We were both open that they could stay here, so if they have changed their mind for some other reason (i.e., favorite son feeling like we get all of the time when they are in the area), then so be it. It's their choice.
Since we got mailed Christmas presents and have received the cautionary tale that they likely will just go straight home, I'm operating on the assumption that they aren't coming and won't be for several months. It kind of sucks that they choose to not see both of their sons and their 3 grandkids, but that is their choice. It's not mine.
And if this part of a manipulative and overbearing game on their part, I think we're fine saying, "okay, whatever."
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Onward to a new year
If you haven't noticed by now, I'm a taskmaster. Or taskmistress. I love getting stuff done. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy being lazy too. A perfect day involves some lounging in front of a space heater, eating yummy food, taking a nap, taking a bath, and knocking a few things off my to do list.
So here goes, my 2011 goals in written list form.
-Lose 13.6 pounds. I've pretty much have gotten a complete home gym in the past month, no excuses, get rid of the sweets in the house, focus, focus, focus.
-Write 1 short story
-Outline a novel and write 30 pages of it
-Asset allocation. In the past few years, I've been distracted with having a child, moving, remodeling, and our monthly and annual budget. With the stock market doing okay this year, I was surprised to open our retirement account statements and see appreciable gains. I haven't made any asset allocation decisions since early 2008. Long overdue. I really need to review this.
-Wills! I did mine in 2008 but never had anyone witness it. Gotta re-review it, nag husband about his by letting him read this, and get those done & signed. The best prompt is to ask him if he wants Julia to end up with our sister-in-law. Hells to the no. So get your will done.
-Finish Dewey project. I was at the library today looking at the 67_ and 68_ sections. I hate to stereotype, but I will anyway. Those are the boy sections. They should just have "Boy" listed instead of a Dewey decimal number. Those sections are books about welding, cigars and guns. Boy section if I ever heard one. I don't want to learn about welding, cigars or guns. Sure, that chick from Flashdance welded, but other than that one anomaly (that was fictional) I don't know many female welders. Ugh, I'm so not looking forward to that section. All of these things seem to be more things that you practice instead of read about. If I read a book about welding, it's not like you're going to let me within 50 feet of hot metal. Please don't. Bad things will happen. Have I showed you my 8th grade woodshop project? I'll show it soon. It will prove to you that I should not operate any machinery.
-Focus some energy on new blog and try to get that more up and running.
-Work on the jungle that is the backyard.
-Paint chair railings and around the windows.
-I'll leave one slot open for an addition in the new year.
So here goes, my 2011 goals in written list form.
-Lose 13.6 pounds. I've pretty much have gotten a complete home gym in the past month, no excuses, get rid of the sweets in the house, focus, focus, focus.
-Write 1 short story
-Outline a novel and write 30 pages of it
-Asset allocation. In the past few years, I've been distracted with having a child, moving, remodeling, and our monthly and annual budget. With the stock market doing okay this year, I was surprised to open our retirement account statements and see appreciable gains. I haven't made any asset allocation decisions since early 2008. Long overdue. I really need to review this.
-Wills! I did mine in 2008 but never had anyone witness it. Gotta re-review it, nag husband about his by letting him read this, and get those done & signed. The best prompt is to ask him if he wants Julia to end up with our sister-in-law. Hells to the no. So get your will done.
-Finish Dewey project. I was at the library today looking at the 67_ and 68_ sections. I hate to stereotype, but I will anyway. Those are the boy sections. They should just have "Boy" listed instead of a Dewey decimal number. Those sections are books about welding, cigars and guns. Boy section if I ever heard one. I don't want to learn about welding, cigars or guns. Sure, that chick from Flashdance welded, but other than that one anomaly (that was fictional) I don't know many female welders. Ugh, I'm so not looking forward to that section. All of these things seem to be more things that you practice instead of read about. If I read a book about welding, it's not like you're going to let me within 50 feet of hot metal. Please don't. Bad things will happen. Have I showed you my 8th grade woodshop project? I'll show it soon. It will prove to you that I should not operate any machinery.
-Focus some energy on new blog and try to get that more up and running.
-Work on the jungle that is the backyard.
-Paint chair railings and around the windows.
-I'll leave one slot open for an addition in the new year.
Monday, December 13, 2010
Sumo Wrestler Baby
 |
| A few hours old |
I've been going through pictures because we got a digital picture frame for my mom for Christmas, and we will have to preload pictures on it. 1) She doesn't operate cameras and 2) She doesn't transfer stuff. So we bought a picture frame and preloaded it for her. Hence, I'm going through old pictures.
Back when Julia was born, we were shocked to see a sumo wrestler Asian baby. You see, my husband and I are both as white as white can be. We are both extremely pale, I have fairly light hair, my husband has dark hair but had blond hair for most of his childhood. We were expecting a white baby with no hair or blond hair. We were both small babies. I was 5 lbs, S was the "biggest" baby of the three siblings at a whopping 6 lbs and some change.
And to our surprise, we got sumo wrestler Asian baby. Darker skin (likely jaundice at the time), FAT, black hair. The first or second thing I said was, "She kinda looks Asian." Husband agreed. We took this screaming Asian sumo wrestler home on Day 2, still wondering if she got mixed up with some scrawny blond, white baby from the time it takes to get from my stomach to the warming table.
Even now, 2.5 year later, I look at this picture and think, "She really did look like a sumo wrestler baby." Now she doesn't. She looks like a scrawny white girl with corkscrew curls. But back in the day she was fat and kinda Asian looking.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Year in Review
I've had a pretty decent life as an adult. As a kid, it kind of sucked because things were mostly done to me, and I had little to no control over anything. However, at age 13 when we were in Vegas I used all the chips I had and pressured my mom to move to Seattle. Why did I want to move to Seattle? I dunno, but it had to be better than Vegas, and it least it wasn't 120 degrees. My plea worked. A couple years after that I started community college and mentally moved out of the house even though I was physically there. And at 17 I physically moved out of the house when I went away to college.
Once I could control my life, life exponentially improved. Ages 17+ have been pretty darn good. Some people loved being a kid and hate being an adult. I'm the opposite; being a kid was really repressive for me , but it might have had something to do with my living situation. Anyway, choosing where you want to live, choosing how you spend your days, and being an adult are wonderful. That freedom is amazing.
That being said, my worst year ever was Julia's first year. My freedom got yanked away, and I was at home with a screaming infant all day. I wanted to work, but wasn't allowed to (by Julia because no daycare in their right mind would have taken her and given her eating issues, it just wouldn't have worked). Her screaming frayed my nerves, her lack of eating worried me, her incessant screaming didn't allow me to sleep. It sucked. I never, ever want to go through that again. Once things smoothed out a bit in mid 2009 I appreciated getting back to a new normal as a family of three.
November 2009 through July 2010 took the second prize spot for Worst Almost Year ever. It has nothing to do with Julia this time. My disdain for the months noted completely have to do with us choosing to buy this house, sell the old house, and the assorted resulting drama. It was an awful time.
The uncertainty was a big part of it. I was never fully on board to buy the house. In fact, we pulled out of the deal only to be sucked back at the last minute. I was leery of spending more than we wanted to, the renovations needed and associated money, selling the other house in a down market, not wanting to move at Christmas, and realizing that we both had full-time jobs, a toddler, and S was active in tae kwon do. It seemed like so much to deal with, so much that could go wrong, and there was a lot of uncertainty. I don't like uncertainty.
Well, we went through it anyway despite both of our hearts not being 100% into it. Intellectually the house met our entire list of desires in a home once it was remodeled, and it could be a good financial decision in the long-term if we could deal with several months of crap. Emotionally we were willing to bail and chalk it up to not being ready to get into a whole big pile of worms. Our agent knew that, and I think she paved a smooth path for us knowing our hesitance.
We did this all with very little family help. We didn't get packers or movers. It was all us and our friends. S's parents are in Arizona and chose not to come (that's fine). S's brother and his family are an hour north and also chose to not help in any way. (However, when they want anything, we are expected to drop everything and help them because "it's family.") My mom is a couple miles away, and she helped haul away Hwang trash one afternoon. Other than that, it was just us and our friends who did the initial move in and cleaning. And people wonder why I'm more attached to my friends than family.
In addition to knowing December would be a bad month due to the move, December was a bad month because we learned that our old house was kinda living on a lake although it is in a suburb. Yeah, that was really, really disconcerting and expensive to fix. Then the previous owners of the new house didn't leave any of the things they said they would leave and instead left trash and toenails and really old, heavy electronics and smelly crap all over the freaking house. "Move in ready" would not describe the state of it. I was off two weeks in late December last year, and the vast majority of that time was spent boxing up Hwang trash and doing that initial deep cleaning of the house. And we still had the old house, so we would go by to check on it every other day or so and were dealing with the agent to sell that house.
The next few months we worked full-time at our jobs, we'd come home every night and unpack or paint or fix little things that needed to be fixed. After Julia went to bed at 7-8pm, we'd work until at least midnight trying to get stuff done and make some headway on making the house more livable and getting it to how we wanted it.
People really didn't seem to "get it." They thought only one room needed to be painted or something, and then it would magically be livable. Let me ask, how long does it take you to paint one 100 square foot room, including the prep and taping and actual painting and cleaning up? Well, we have 4,500 square feet, and all of our painting had to be done after Julia went to bed. It's a freaking EPIC project. We steam cleaned every carpet ourselves, painted every room, sanitized everything, orchestrated a complete kitchen renovation, new countertops and sinks in the bathrooms, cleaning a 600 square foot deck thoroughly, replaced fixtures, tiled a 150 square feet laundry room, plus getting rid of all of the Hwang trash and negotiating the sale of our old house and the final deep cleaning of the old house.
We're the ones who chose to do this; it's not like I'm being a victim here. I'm just saying - we did a MASSIVE amount of work, especially considering we both work full-time, have a child, and have hobbies that we kept up with while undertaking it all.
MASSIVE.
There were days, particularly in the first few months, where I just wanted to go back to the old house and wished we had never done this move. Go to work and come home to this strange place that creeped me out, immediately jump into mommy mode with the nighttime Julia routine, put her to bed, and then work another 4-6 hours on painting or unpacking or cleaning. Go to sleep, and do it all the next day. It really was relentless for several months. At least the financial worries eased once we got an offer on the old house and as it got closer to us getting rid of that house. But still...it was stressful.
Here I am now, and I can acknowledge just how far we have come. I haven't moved mountains or anything, but I did step out of my comfort zone, worked extremely hard, and now have some time to reflect on how awesome my husband and I really did work. And we did it together. We were on the same page the whole time, we both gave 100% to our specific tasks, and we got it done. Of course, there's still many things that need to be done around the house in the near future, but we got everything on the "need to do immediately" list accomplished by July.
Probably the worst side effect of this whole thing is that I have absolutely NO pity for people who complain about not having time to do stuff. If I of all people (known for my slothlike, napping nature) can pack, move, unpack, move other people's trash, decorate, clean, steam clean, paint until the wee hours of the morning after working all day and taking care of a child, for the love of GAWD shut up about your disdain for having to paint your dang kitchen. And you don't even have a kid. If I can do it, you can do it. Just admit that you don't want to paint your dang kitchen; don't say "I don't have time" instead. That's a lousy excuse. You can do anything you set your mind to. Just admit that you don't want to set your mind to something you don't want to do. Don't make stupid excuses for your inaction.
Ultimately, I came out of this year much stronger. When we survived Julia's first year, it was mainly relief that we survived and acknowledgment that it was our own personal hell. When we survived this year, I look back and think how we really came together and knocked the ball out of the park when it comes to teamwork, determination, and sheer hard work.
Happy 1st anniversary in this house!
Once I could control my life, life exponentially improved. Ages 17+ have been pretty darn good. Some people loved being a kid and hate being an adult. I'm the opposite; being a kid was really repressive for me , but it might have had something to do with my living situation. Anyway, choosing where you want to live, choosing how you spend your days, and being an adult are wonderful. That freedom is amazing.
That being said, my worst year ever was Julia's first year. My freedom got yanked away, and I was at home with a screaming infant all day. I wanted to work, but wasn't allowed to (by Julia because no daycare in their right mind would have taken her and given her eating issues, it just wouldn't have worked). Her screaming frayed my nerves, her lack of eating worried me, her incessant screaming didn't allow me to sleep. It sucked. I never, ever want to go through that again. Once things smoothed out a bit in mid 2009 I appreciated getting back to a new normal as a family of three.
November 2009 through July 2010 took the second prize spot for Worst Almost Year ever. It has nothing to do with Julia this time. My disdain for the months noted completely have to do with us choosing to buy this house, sell the old house, and the assorted resulting drama. It was an awful time.
The uncertainty was a big part of it. I was never fully on board to buy the house. In fact, we pulled out of the deal only to be sucked back at the last minute. I was leery of spending more than we wanted to, the renovations needed and associated money, selling the other house in a down market, not wanting to move at Christmas, and realizing that we both had full-time jobs, a toddler, and S was active in tae kwon do. It seemed like so much to deal with, so much that could go wrong, and there was a lot of uncertainty. I don't like uncertainty.
Well, we went through it anyway despite both of our hearts not being 100% into it. Intellectually the house met our entire list of desires in a home once it was remodeled, and it could be a good financial decision in the long-term if we could deal with several months of crap. Emotionally we were willing to bail and chalk it up to not being ready to get into a whole big pile of worms. Our agent knew that, and I think she paved a smooth path for us knowing our hesitance.
We did this all with very little family help. We didn't get packers or movers. It was all us and our friends. S's parents are in Arizona and chose not to come (that's fine). S's brother and his family are an hour north and also chose to not help in any way. (However, when they want anything, we are expected to drop everything and help them because "it's family.") My mom is a couple miles away, and she helped haul away Hwang trash one afternoon. Other than that, it was just us and our friends who did the initial move in and cleaning. And people wonder why I'm more attached to my friends than family.
In addition to knowing December would be a bad month due to the move, December was a bad month because we learned that our old house was kinda living on a lake although it is in a suburb. Yeah, that was really, really disconcerting and expensive to fix. Then the previous owners of the new house didn't leave any of the things they said they would leave and instead left trash and toenails and really old, heavy electronics and smelly crap all over the freaking house. "Move in ready" would not describe the state of it. I was off two weeks in late December last year, and the vast majority of that time was spent boxing up Hwang trash and doing that initial deep cleaning of the house. And we still had the old house, so we would go by to check on it every other day or so and were dealing with the agent to sell that house.
The next few months we worked full-time at our jobs, we'd come home every night and unpack or paint or fix little things that needed to be fixed. After Julia went to bed at 7-8pm, we'd work until at least midnight trying to get stuff done and make some headway on making the house more livable and getting it to how we wanted it.
People really didn't seem to "get it." They thought only one room needed to be painted or something, and then it would magically be livable. Let me ask, how long does it take you to paint one 100 square foot room, including the prep and taping and actual painting and cleaning up? Well, we have 4,500 square feet, and all of our painting had to be done after Julia went to bed. It's a freaking EPIC project. We steam cleaned every carpet ourselves, painted every room, sanitized everything, orchestrated a complete kitchen renovation, new countertops and sinks in the bathrooms, cleaning a 600 square foot deck thoroughly, replaced fixtures, tiled a 150 square feet laundry room, plus getting rid of all of the Hwang trash and negotiating the sale of our old house and the final deep cleaning of the old house.
We're the ones who chose to do this; it's not like I'm being a victim here. I'm just saying - we did a MASSIVE amount of work, especially considering we both work full-time, have a child, and have hobbies that we kept up with while undertaking it all.
MASSIVE.
There were days, particularly in the first few months, where I just wanted to go back to the old house and wished we had never done this move. Go to work and come home to this strange place that creeped me out, immediately jump into mommy mode with the nighttime Julia routine, put her to bed, and then work another 4-6 hours on painting or unpacking or cleaning. Go to sleep, and do it all the next day. It really was relentless for several months. At least the financial worries eased once we got an offer on the old house and as it got closer to us getting rid of that house. But still...it was stressful.
Here I am now, and I can acknowledge just how far we have come. I haven't moved mountains or anything, but I did step out of my comfort zone, worked extremely hard, and now have some time to reflect on how awesome my husband and I really did work. And we did it together. We were on the same page the whole time, we both gave 100% to our specific tasks, and we got it done. Of course, there's still many things that need to be done around the house in the near future, but we got everything on the "need to do immediately" list accomplished by July.
Probably the worst side effect of this whole thing is that I have absolutely NO pity for people who complain about not having time to do stuff. If I of all people (known for my slothlike, napping nature) can pack, move, unpack, move other people's trash, decorate, clean, steam clean, paint until the wee hours of the morning after working all day and taking care of a child, for the love of GAWD shut up about your disdain for having to paint your dang kitchen. And you don't even have a kid. If I can do it, you can do it. Just admit that you don't want to paint your dang kitchen; don't say "I don't have time" instead. That's a lousy excuse. You can do anything you set your mind to. Just admit that you don't want to set your mind to something you don't want to do. Don't make stupid excuses for your inaction.
Ultimately, I came out of this year much stronger. When we survived Julia's first year, it was mainly relief that we survived and acknowledgment that it was our own personal hell. When we survived this year, I look back and think how we really came together and knocked the ball out of the park when it comes to teamwork, determination, and sheer hard work.
Happy 1st anniversary in this house!
That takes guts
Remember the family infiltrator? If I were less lazy, I'd add a link to the post from a few months ago. It's easier for me just to rehash the story. S's cousin in NJ was married with two kids until 1.5 years ago, they divorced, and he started dating a new woman. He took new woman and one of his kids on a cruise that was paid by a friend back in August, and they all stopped in Seattle. My impressions were the following: new woman was very attracted to this guy's family money based on how she talked, she totally wants to get married to him (never been married at almost 40), and she's completely obnoxious (maybe part of it is the NJ thang, but most of it is just her).
She FB friended us all immediately. She and he have an interesting, tumultuous relationship as observed through FB. In October she put on a major birthday party for him. She sent out elegant invitations (think wedding invitation quality) to this bash she put on, and we received an invite. There was some family drama because girlfriend wanted cousin's mother to pay for the party. Cousin's mother (S's aunt) said you were the one who did this all on your own, it's your thing. Of course we didn't go because it was in NJ.
Family sentiment from the older women in the family is that she is doing anything she can to get into the family. I kinda agree. All of the older women in the family think the girlfriend is going to try to get pregnant to trap the cousin into marriage. I don't quite share that thinking, but then again I wasn't born in 1935. I don't think she'll go THAT far.
Girlfriend is almost 40, never been married, and lives with her mother. She doesn't work. Not really sure what she does all day other than do her Kate Gosselin hair (pre-extensions) and paint her nails. That sentiment also comes from the older women in the family although I add the Kate Gosselin hairdo in there.
Today we got a Christmas card from Girlfriend; had we not been friends through FB I probably wouldn't have even recognized her name on the return address. We're on her Christmas card list after one dinner at a chain restaurant... lovely. Guess how it was inscribed? Love, Girlfriend, Cousin, Kid 1, Kid 2.
WTH? Talk about taking liberties. Especially considering all the family drama. So you're dating a guy who just got out of a divorce, and he has two kids, and within a year you're pasting your name, his name, and his two kids' names all over Christmas cards as if you're married to him? You're not even engaged to him! You're not even living with him. You're living with your MOM and you're almost 40!
(No offense to anyone who is almost 40 and living with their mom, but if you're sitting around all day and mooching off your parents at that age...shame on you)
It is desperate and pathetic. It's women like this who give the rest of us a bad reputation as money grubbing arm candy who just want to stay home all day and eat Bon Bons.
Ugh. And the worst part of it is that I hate having the same opinion as the older women in S's family!!!!
She FB friended us all immediately. She and he have an interesting, tumultuous relationship as observed through FB. In October she put on a major birthday party for him. She sent out elegant invitations (think wedding invitation quality) to this bash she put on, and we received an invite. There was some family drama because girlfriend wanted cousin's mother to pay for the party. Cousin's mother (S's aunt) said you were the one who did this all on your own, it's your thing. Of course we didn't go because it was in NJ.
Family sentiment from the older women in the family is that she is doing anything she can to get into the family. I kinda agree. All of the older women in the family think the girlfriend is going to try to get pregnant to trap the cousin into marriage. I don't quite share that thinking, but then again I wasn't born in 1935. I don't think she'll go THAT far.
Girlfriend is almost 40, never been married, and lives with her mother. She doesn't work. Not really sure what she does all day other than do her Kate Gosselin hair (pre-extensions) and paint her nails. That sentiment also comes from the older women in the family although I add the Kate Gosselin hairdo in there.
Today we got a Christmas card from Girlfriend; had we not been friends through FB I probably wouldn't have even recognized her name on the return address. We're on her Christmas card list after one dinner at a chain restaurant... lovely. Guess how it was inscribed? Love, Girlfriend, Cousin, Kid 1, Kid 2.
WTH? Talk about taking liberties. Especially considering all the family drama. So you're dating a guy who just got out of a divorce, and he has two kids, and within a year you're pasting your name, his name, and his two kids' names all over Christmas cards as if you're married to him? You're not even engaged to him! You're not even living with him. You're living with your MOM and you're almost 40!
(No offense to anyone who is almost 40 and living with their mom, but if you're sitting around all day and mooching off your parents at that age...shame on you)
It is desperate and pathetic. It's women like this who give the rest of us a bad reputation as money grubbing arm candy who just want to stay home all day and eat Bon Bons.
Ugh. And the worst part of it is that I hate having the same opinion as the older women in S's family!!!!
Friday, December 10, 2010
Diaries and Old School References
I think I have the highest blog hit : blog comment ratio. I get about 1 comment a month, and in that time get thousands of hits, resulting in a thousands : 1 ratio. I'm not complaining about the lack of comments; really, it's a free country and all that. (I will also contend that I have an average readership education level at a master's degree level, which I don't really understand since I mostly blither about boy bands and Kurt Cobain...) By the comment measurement, it really does appear that I'm talking to myself. I feel that I'm talking to myself most of the time too. In reality I'm not alone here. It's easy to forget that and get lulled into the comfort of being solo and really be myself. For what it's worth, I don't feel I can be completely myself even in a handwritten journal because there was always a mother who would have read my journal when I was a teenager. Now I'm to the age where I start wondering who would read it when I die. Some secrets WILL die with me and my accomplices, if applicable. So there are certain things that will never appear in written form.
I'll never forget coming home to a ransacked room as a teenager. My mom thought I was into drugs and took the liberty of going through everything I owned for evidence. She ended up not being able to implicate me for drug use at the time, but of course she found evidence that implicated me in other things. My policy after that was to not have any implicating evidence laying around; hence, I purge purge purge.
Today's confession: listening to NKOTB. It may be 1989 again today. I liked them as a kid, but I wasn't overboard on them. No pictures of them hanging on the walls, no NKOTB bedding...or trapper keepers or buttons or really any merchandise other than the cassette tapes. Jordan Knight wore too much lipstick and eyeliner for my taste. Sure, it's cool that a guy is in touch with his feminine side, but I do draw the line somewhere, and that would be at makeup.
"First time was a great time
Second time was a blast
Third time I fell in love
Now I hope it lasts."
Who was your favorite NKOTB'er? No surprise for me, it was Jon. He seemed to have it the most together.
In a related tangent, have you seen how hot Mark Wahlberg (brother of a NKOTB'er) looks in the new boxing movie? 1991 + Calvin Klein + Marky Mark + new boxing movie = dang, he hasn't changed much in 20 years. And who would have thunk he could have overcome early 90s white boy rap (unlike Vanilla Ice)?
And if I'm still not going old school enough for you, bonus points for remembering the reference "The Lakers beat the Supersonics."
I'll never forget coming home to a ransacked room as a teenager. My mom thought I was into drugs and took the liberty of going through everything I owned for evidence. She ended up not being able to implicate me for drug use at the time, but of course she found evidence that implicated me in other things. My policy after that was to not have any implicating evidence laying around; hence, I purge purge purge.
Today's confession: listening to NKOTB. It may be 1989 again today. I liked them as a kid, but I wasn't overboard on them. No pictures of them hanging on the walls, no NKOTB bedding...or trapper keepers or buttons or really any merchandise other than the cassette tapes. Jordan Knight wore too much lipstick and eyeliner for my taste. Sure, it's cool that a guy is in touch with his feminine side, but I do draw the line somewhere, and that would be at makeup.
"First time was a great time
Second time was a blast
Third time I fell in love
Now I hope it lasts."
Who was your favorite NKOTB'er? No surprise for me, it was Jon. He seemed to have it the most together.
In a related tangent, have you seen how hot Mark Wahlberg (brother of a NKOTB'er) looks in the new boxing movie? 1991 + Calvin Klein + Marky Mark + new boxing movie = dang, he hasn't changed much in 20 years. And who would have thunk he could have overcome early 90s white boy rap (unlike Vanilla Ice)?
And if I'm still not going old school enough for you, bonus points for remembering the reference "The Lakers beat the Supersonics."
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Yet another irritation
Yes, I am nitpicky about such things as proper grammar and spelling. I had the most awesome yet annoying 8th grade grammar teacher, and now I will be forever nitpicking subject-verb agreement when I should be doing more important things. For some reason, incorrect spelling and grammar annoy me. I don't claim to be perfect at it. I have typos, I occasionally type out the improper there/their/they're. I give a pass to blogs. They are more stream of consciousness things, and people tend to write in the moment. I tend to focus on getting *something* out there vs. edit and re-edit as if it's some masterpiece (which I can assure you it's not). So you will find typos here, and sometimes I'm too lazy to look up a spelling and just do the best I can even though I'm convinced it's not right.
However, I do not give a pass to books. If it is a published book that you can buy from a bookseller, I expect that it will have perfect spelling and grammar. Or perfect enough that it won't catch my eye. If you say "there" and you mean "their" in a published book, it will make me cranky...or crankier than usual. I've read two books with multiple spelling and grammar mistakes in the past year. I will never forget their titles and authors. It annoys me THAT much.
So I give a pass to blogs. I give a pass to personal e-mails. I also semi give a pass to Facebook. It's not like you're writing a book on there, but on the other hand you have a limited space to convey things and you can at least be diligent enough to not royally screw up (i.e., more than 2 spelling/grammar mistakes in one sentence). Today I saw the champion of screwing up a status update with improper word choice. The person got back from the beech (the tree) instead of the beach (the place with sand). The tied, not the tide, was apparently high. And apparently there are peers there instead of piers. Yes, I know everyone's forte isn't grammar and spelling but jeez.
♥
Your not-so-friendly grammar and spelling police department who will try to be more forgiving in 2011, but, let's face it, will likely end up not being more forgiving
P.S. While I'm in confession mode on little things that annoy me, those headbands with big ass flowers on them that parents put on their little girls irritate me. Who really wants a big ass flower on top of their head? Except Mayim Bialik. Hopefully she had input into those big ass flowers.
However, I do not give a pass to books. If it is a published book that you can buy from a bookseller, I expect that it will have perfect spelling and grammar. Or perfect enough that it won't catch my eye. If you say "there" and you mean "their" in a published book, it will make me cranky...or crankier than usual. I've read two books with multiple spelling and grammar mistakes in the past year. I will never forget their titles and authors. It annoys me THAT much.
So I give a pass to blogs. I give a pass to personal e-mails. I also semi give a pass to Facebook. It's not like you're writing a book on there, but on the other hand you have a limited space to convey things and you can at least be diligent enough to not royally screw up (i.e., more than 2 spelling/grammar mistakes in one sentence). Today I saw the champion of screwing up a status update with improper word choice. The person got back from the beech (the tree) instead of the beach (the place with sand). The tied, not the tide, was apparently high. And apparently there are peers there instead of piers. Yes, I know everyone's forte isn't grammar and spelling but jeez.
♥
Your not-so-friendly grammar and spelling police department who will try to be more forgiving in 2011, but, let's face it, will likely end up not being more forgiving
P.S. While I'm in confession mode on little things that annoy me, those headbands with big ass flowers on them that parents put on their little girls irritate me. Who really wants a big ass flower on top of their head? Except Mayim Bialik. Hopefully she had input into those big ass flowers.
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Monday, December 6, 2010
PITA project
I wish there was a way to make photo organizing easier. It's a beast of a project. I try to at least stay up-to-date by uploading photos to Facebook. But...I'm a complete slacker when it comes to printing out photos. I don't have a photo printer with ink, and frankly I lack the skills to do it at home. Outsource, baby. I only do the bulk upload to a photo site twice a year. But then it's a pain in the ass to upload everything in high resolution; each of my pics is 5 megs. Multiply by that times 200 pictures.
It's a pain in the ass project.
Go through each month's folder - i.e., 2010_11 which is my shorthand for November 2010.
Write down the file name of each picture I want to upload.
Do any fixes I need - cropping, black and white, increase/decrease contrast. Editing can take forever if you have a lot of pictures.
Reduce the size of all the pics I want to upload except if I want 8x10s or larger.
Upload. Wait.
Go through the photo site and make sure you've checked "matte" and figure out how many you want of each print.
The whole process took me 4 hours tonight. I was lazy and didn't do much editing either.
(Sigh) At least it's done for another few months.
It's a pain in the ass project.
Go through each month's folder - i.e., 2010_11 which is my shorthand for November 2010.
Write down the file name of each picture I want to upload.
Do any fixes I need - cropping, black and white, increase/decrease contrast. Editing can take forever if you have a lot of pictures.
Reduce the size of all the pics I want to upload except if I want 8x10s or larger.
Upload. Wait.
Go through the photo site and make sure you've checked "matte" and figure out how many you want of each print.
The whole process took me 4 hours tonight. I was lazy and didn't do much editing either.
(Sigh) At least it's done for another few months.
Sunday, December 5, 2010
The Meanderings My Mind Takes
This will probably be a post where you think I have multiple personality disorder. Sorry. I haven't blogged in days, thanks to my scheduled postings. When that lag happens, my mind gets backed up with random thoughts that for some reason I feel compelled to share.
~ I still love space heaters. In the winter, I have the perfect excuse to have them on with it being justifiably cold. The comforting hum, the comforting warmth emanating from them. I'm soooo glad one sits on my nightstand, so I can easily turn it on during the night when I get cold. It costs about 10 cents per hour to run on the "high" setting and 5 cents an hour to run on the "low" setting based on my calculations per the kilowatt charge on our electric bill. A worthy 10 cents in my estimation. Shut up, I know I'm an uber nerd who would calculate that! That's why you love me (looking at husband). I may technically be an ISFJ personality, but there are glimmers of an N instead of an F occasionally.
~ My aunt from California is in town this weekend. It took Miss J a few hours to warm up to her, like she takes with everyone. See, playdates with her are kind of useless. Playdates are about 2 hours, and that's the time it takes for her to get acclimated. After you get over that 2 hour hump, my dear one becomes engaging, talkative, and actually charming. It's odd to see her not speak a single word for two hours. Then suddenly a switch activates after two hours, and she becomes a complete chatterbox. She even let us leave her in the basement with my aunt for about an hour. My aunt will be here until Monday night, and we'll be spending time with her on Sunday afternoon and evening. Must remember to take my camera to my mom's house to take pictures. Ah, Brown Flowers (my mom's 70s couch) will likely make many appearances. :(
~ My aunt loved the house. I forget about what a lovely job I do complaining about it, which means people think it's about to fall down. People tend to be taken aback by it when they actually see how freaking huge it is and the view of the water from every room. It WAS a clear day, you could see the Seattle skyline, and sailboats and a huge ship sailed by while she was here, so it was fairly picture perfect to look out upon. (Except for the frigid temperatures)
~ I need to operate by "to do" lists. Really, they keep me on track. I did so well on Friday night just checking things off. Saturday with my aunt in town not much got done. Hopefully this morning we'll be able to check a few things off before we go to my mom's. It's therapeutic to stay on top of that. This past week I got 0 done after work, so I just felt so unbelievably behind going into the weekend. Developing my "to do" list on Friday and then spending quite a bit of time just working through it really did help mentally. I'm almost feeling caught up on home stuff.
~ I did exercise most nights this past week. I got some exercise equipment, and it's been awesome to take some time to devote to that. As we all know, there's only so much time in the day, and my home chores suffered this past week. It really is hard to find the balance between chores, exercise, reading, hobbies, blogging, a toddler, and a husband. I can maybe devote time to three of those, but it's dang near impossible to do justice to all of those every week.
~ I got some fuzzy socks on Black Friday for a great price. Those super soft socks that are really warm and almost tickle your feet continuously. I've been addicted to them. I even wore them to work one day! Ha ha, I had on fuzzy socks I got in black so no one can tell!!!!
~ The amount of junk e-mail I get is insane. There's been a huge uptick recently. Boo.
~ I think my mind is adequately purged now. Now to what I wanted to talk about.
-------------------------------
Back to Thirteen Reasons Why, my new favorite book. I've been talking about this book intermittently now for months in my hope that more people will read it. The theme of the book is teenage suicide, so it isn't the happiest book in the world. You can probably imagine that I'm not the one to read romance books with happy endings. Yeah, the sappy stuff isn't my cup o' tea. I do like dark books with a thought-provoking ending. It's just not realistic to always have a happy ending. Sure, it makes the reader feel more satisfied, but again it's not realistic for things to end happily all the time. If I ever write a book, it's not going to have that saccharine sweet happy ending. That's not life, people. Not sure where my bitterness comes from since my life is pretty darn good compared to most. Maybe it's not bitterness exactly, or even pessimism, but it's a sense that nothing can ever be perfect no matter how much you try. Perfection is an illusion. It seems like people shove the perfection standard in people's faces from a young age (a "perfect" childhood, a "perfect" marriage, a "perfect" job, a "perfect" child), and people feel worthless and unsatisfied when they can't attain that picture perfection that is held as the standard in book endings. I'm just gonna tell you that perfection doesn't exist to begin with, so if you're aiming for perfection with regard to human relations, you just ain't ever gonna get there. The earlier in your life you figure that out, I think the happier you can be long-term.
See, I digress. Meandering thoughts are not good for me.
One of the key points in Thirteen Reasons Why is that you can never realize the impact on what you do to other people unless you're extremely mindful. You make an offhand comment or do something stupid, but you don't know what the other person has already experienced in his/her life and how the person will respond to the action. This happens all the time with everyone. But in the realm of teenagers, those little things can really add up. And gossip is so rampant in that age group. As adults, most people have developed coping mechanisms over time. Plus, I don't think adults are as rude to each other as teenagers can be.
In a teenager's world, what would be little things to most adults are HUGE for teenagers. Add in the lack of maturity and self-centeredness, and it's a recipe for disaster. I think this book is really good for teenagers because it illustrates how those "little" things can indeed add up, and the message it gives to teenagers is to really think about how others can interpret what seems like little things at the time but really can be much more to someone else.
Like most teenagers, I was subject to rumors, speculation, and gossip. Probably the big one in school was when Paul tried to strangle me at school and then followed it up with a weapon. He was dragged off and expelled. The whole school was buzzing why a senior tried to strangle a sophomore in the middle of the hall. I hate attention, and after that I had everyone (or so it felt) looking at me and speculating what the story was. Thank goodness the school year ended about two weeks later, and that's when I left to go to community college after that. Had I gone back to high school as a junior, I'm sure everyone would have forgotten over the summer intellectually, but it felt like people never would forget from my perspective at the time. Sure, I knew what happened between Paul and me, which built up over months of interactions only at lunchtime where he would ask me out and I would say no, but the rest of the school thought the premise was much more juicy.
So, again, it's a great book, and I recommend that you read it.
~ I still love space heaters. In the winter, I have the perfect excuse to have them on with it being justifiably cold. The comforting hum, the comforting warmth emanating from them. I'm soooo glad one sits on my nightstand, so I can easily turn it on during the night when I get cold. It costs about 10 cents per hour to run on the "high" setting and 5 cents an hour to run on the "low" setting based on my calculations per the kilowatt charge on our electric bill. A worthy 10 cents in my estimation. Shut up, I know I'm an uber nerd who would calculate that! That's why you love me (looking at husband). I may technically be an ISFJ personality, but there are glimmers of an N instead of an F occasionally.
~ My aunt from California is in town this weekend. It took Miss J a few hours to warm up to her, like she takes with everyone. See, playdates with her are kind of useless. Playdates are about 2 hours, and that's the time it takes for her to get acclimated. After you get over that 2 hour hump, my dear one becomes engaging, talkative, and actually charming. It's odd to see her not speak a single word for two hours. Then suddenly a switch activates after two hours, and she becomes a complete chatterbox. She even let us leave her in the basement with my aunt for about an hour. My aunt will be here until Monday night, and we'll be spending time with her on Sunday afternoon and evening. Must remember to take my camera to my mom's house to take pictures. Ah, Brown Flowers (my mom's 70s couch) will likely make many appearances. :(
~ My aunt loved the house. I forget about what a lovely job I do complaining about it, which means people think it's about to fall down. People tend to be taken aback by it when they actually see how freaking huge it is and the view of the water from every room. It WAS a clear day, you could see the Seattle skyline, and sailboats and a huge ship sailed by while she was here, so it was fairly picture perfect to look out upon. (Except for the frigid temperatures)
~ I need to operate by "to do" lists. Really, they keep me on track. I did so well on Friday night just checking things off. Saturday with my aunt in town not much got done. Hopefully this morning we'll be able to check a few things off before we go to my mom's. It's therapeutic to stay on top of that. This past week I got 0 done after work, so I just felt so unbelievably behind going into the weekend. Developing my "to do" list on Friday and then spending quite a bit of time just working through it really did help mentally. I'm almost feeling caught up on home stuff.
~ I did exercise most nights this past week. I got some exercise equipment, and it's been awesome to take some time to devote to that. As we all know, there's only so much time in the day, and my home chores suffered this past week. It really is hard to find the balance between chores, exercise, reading, hobbies, blogging, a toddler, and a husband. I can maybe devote time to three of those, but it's dang near impossible to do justice to all of those every week.
~ I got some fuzzy socks on Black Friday for a great price. Those super soft socks that are really warm and almost tickle your feet continuously. I've been addicted to them. I even wore them to work one day! Ha ha, I had on fuzzy socks I got in black so no one can tell!!!!
~ The amount of junk e-mail I get is insane. There's been a huge uptick recently. Boo.
~ I think my mind is adequately purged now. Now to what I wanted to talk about.
-------------------------------
Back to Thirteen Reasons Why, my new favorite book. I've been talking about this book intermittently now for months in my hope that more people will read it. The theme of the book is teenage suicide, so it isn't the happiest book in the world. You can probably imagine that I'm not the one to read romance books with happy endings. Yeah, the sappy stuff isn't my cup o' tea. I do like dark books with a thought-provoking ending. It's just not realistic to always have a happy ending. Sure, it makes the reader feel more satisfied, but again it's not realistic for things to end happily all the time. If I ever write a book, it's not going to have that saccharine sweet happy ending. That's not life, people. Not sure where my bitterness comes from since my life is pretty darn good compared to most. Maybe it's not bitterness exactly, or even pessimism, but it's a sense that nothing can ever be perfect no matter how much you try. Perfection is an illusion. It seems like people shove the perfection standard in people's faces from a young age (a "perfect" childhood, a "perfect" marriage, a "perfect" job, a "perfect" child), and people feel worthless and unsatisfied when they can't attain that picture perfection that is held as the standard in book endings. I'm just gonna tell you that perfection doesn't exist to begin with, so if you're aiming for perfection with regard to human relations, you just ain't ever gonna get there. The earlier in your life you figure that out, I think the happier you can be long-term.
See, I digress. Meandering thoughts are not good for me.
One of the key points in Thirteen Reasons Why is that you can never realize the impact on what you do to other people unless you're extremely mindful. You make an offhand comment or do something stupid, but you don't know what the other person has already experienced in his/her life and how the person will respond to the action. This happens all the time with everyone. But in the realm of teenagers, those little things can really add up. And gossip is so rampant in that age group. As adults, most people have developed coping mechanisms over time. Plus, I don't think adults are as rude to each other as teenagers can be.
In a teenager's world, what would be little things to most adults are HUGE for teenagers. Add in the lack of maturity and self-centeredness, and it's a recipe for disaster. I think this book is really good for teenagers because it illustrates how those "little" things can indeed add up, and the message it gives to teenagers is to really think about how others can interpret what seems like little things at the time but really can be much more to someone else.
Like most teenagers, I was subject to rumors, speculation, and gossip. Probably the big one in school was when Paul tried to strangle me at school and then followed it up with a weapon. He was dragged off and expelled. The whole school was buzzing why a senior tried to strangle a sophomore in the middle of the hall. I hate attention, and after that I had everyone (or so it felt) looking at me and speculating what the story was. Thank goodness the school year ended about two weeks later, and that's when I left to go to community college after that. Had I gone back to high school as a junior, I'm sure everyone would have forgotten over the summer intellectually, but it felt like people never would forget from my perspective at the time. Sure, I knew what happened between Paul and me, which built up over months of interactions only at lunchtime where he would ask me out and I would say no, but the rest of the school thought the premise was much more juicy.
So, again, it's a great book, and I recommend that you read it.
Friday, December 3, 2010
Alien Baby
Three years ago, nearly to the day, I made a very serious error in judgment. I was just leaving my first trimester of pregnancy, and I had a chocolate craving with no chocolate in the house. So what was my Einstein solution to this dilemma? I made sludge. Sludge is the term I give to my chosen Ovaltine ratio. It's about an ounce of milk to every 2 tablespoons of Ovaltine powder. Usually I just have a little bit of sludge to get my fix. After all, it's really, really thick. That day I had 3 mega servings of sludge. Each cup was like 1/4 cup of Ovaltine powder and 2 ounces of milk. And I had 3 of them. It had to be at least 10 servings of Ovaltine powder when all told and maybe 8 ounces of milk. In other words, really dense sludge.
About an hour later I started to not feel well. My tummy started to hurt. Well, I was pregnant, and being that it was my first time pregnant, I had no idea what to expect. But then my stomach really started to hurt. As in, I couldn't walk upright, and it felt like the baby was clawing out my insides with her teeth. Since she was only about an inch long at the time, I realized that wasn't a likely explanation. I started to freak out. I thought, oh no, just my luck to be one day out of my first trimester and have a miscarriage. I seriously could not walk without writhing pain. And I didn't want to freak out my husband, who was already highly freakoutable with the whole pregnancy thing. So I said I was going to lay down and take a nap, which is very typical behavior for me and wouldn't raise any suspicion, and I laid in bed and whimpered...for about 5 hours. After 5 hours the pain started to ease, and then all became right with the world. Aaaaaahhh... My oh so scientific method determined that it had to be the insane quantity of sludge that I consumed about an hour before the writhing pain started. I hadn't eaten anything else strange. After that, I decided that perhaps I should stay away from excessive quantities of Ovaltine, or perhaps no Ovaltine because the pain was THAT bad.
I feel compelled to note that since 3 years ago I have had major abdominal surgery once (the whole baby getting yanked out "thang") and sinus surgery, but I still consider those 5 hours of Ovaltine aftermath more painful than either subsequent surgery or recovery.
Last night I made chili. I had a bit of an accident with the onions, and I ended up putting in more than expected. There was a tomato sauce base (well, duh), and I put in some dried chiles as well. Other than that, it was the standard low fat ground turkey and black beans, which I eat all the time. Yes, the chili was spicy. But I like spice. Last night after I ate it I felt a bit off. My tummy hurt a little. I could still walk just fine, but some twinges. Well, this morning I royally screwed up. I took the leftover chili to work and ate it for breakfast. About an hour later, writhing pain started to set in. It increasingly got worse, and I felt like the alien baby was chewing my insides. But this time I don't have an alien baby. Huh. I decided to walk the mall at lunch, but I couldn't walk to my car. The pain was too distracting while I drove. I still couldn't walk upright when I got to the mall. I lumbered along well enough to try not to cause a distraction. Every few seconds the pain would radiate around my stomach and I'd have to pause. I seriously thought I was in labor despite, well, the whole no baby thing. I even had to sit down on a bench when it got really bad. Somehow get back to work and sit there whimpering.
At 2:30pm, the pain magically lifted as I sat there. It was amazing. I could finally walk without pain, sit without pain, ahhhh relief.
Since I only had chili in my system this morning, versus last night when I had more than just chili, I'm presuming that something in the chili irritated my stomach. I pulled out those dang food allergy tests I took, and I scored really low on onions as an irritant and low on tomatoes as an irritant. The only other things in there were the dried chiles, chili powder, ground turkey, and black beans. So I guess I'm just mystified about what my tummy doesn't like. Why can't I just ask it and have it tell me? I really don't want to avoid chili for the rest of my life.
Or maybe I have an alien baby.
About an hour later I started to not feel well. My tummy started to hurt. Well, I was pregnant, and being that it was my first time pregnant, I had no idea what to expect. But then my stomach really started to hurt. As in, I couldn't walk upright, and it felt like the baby was clawing out my insides with her teeth. Since she was only about an inch long at the time, I realized that wasn't a likely explanation. I started to freak out. I thought, oh no, just my luck to be one day out of my first trimester and have a miscarriage. I seriously could not walk without writhing pain. And I didn't want to freak out my husband, who was already highly freakoutable with the whole pregnancy thing. So I said I was going to lay down and take a nap, which is very typical behavior for me and wouldn't raise any suspicion, and I laid in bed and whimpered...for about 5 hours. After 5 hours the pain started to ease, and then all became right with the world. Aaaaaahhh... My oh so scientific method determined that it had to be the insane quantity of sludge that I consumed about an hour before the writhing pain started. I hadn't eaten anything else strange. After that, I decided that perhaps I should stay away from excessive quantities of Ovaltine, or perhaps no Ovaltine because the pain was THAT bad.
I feel compelled to note that since 3 years ago I have had major abdominal surgery once (the whole baby getting yanked out "thang") and sinus surgery, but I still consider those 5 hours of Ovaltine aftermath more painful than either subsequent surgery or recovery.
Last night I made chili. I had a bit of an accident with the onions, and I ended up putting in more than expected. There was a tomato sauce base (well, duh), and I put in some dried chiles as well. Other than that, it was the standard low fat ground turkey and black beans, which I eat all the time. Yes, the chili was spicy. But I like spice. Last night after I ate it I felt a bit off. My tummy hurt a little. I could still walk just fine, but some twinges. Well, this morning I royally screwed up. I took the leftover chili to work and ate it for breakfast. About an hour later, writhing pain started to set in. It increasingly got worse, and I felt like the alien baby was chewing my insides. But this time I don't have an alien baby. Huh. I decided to walk the mall at lunch, but I couldn't walk to my car. The pain was too distracting while I drove. I still couldn't walk upright when I got to the mall. I lumbered along well enough to try not to cause a distraction. Every few seconds the pain would radiate around my stomach and I'd have to pause. I seriously thought I was in labor despite, well, the whole no baby thing. I even had to sit down on a bench when it got really bad. Somehow get back to work and sit there whimpering.
At 2:30pm, the pain magically lifted as I sat there. It was amazing. I could finally walk without pain, sit without pain, ahhhh relief.
Since I only had chili in my system this morning, versus last night when I had more than just chili, I'm presuming that something in the chili irritated my stomach. I pulled out those dang food allergy tests I took, and I scored really low on onions as an irritant and low on tomatoes as an irritant. The only other things in there were the dried chiles, chili powder, ground turkey, and black beans. So I guess I'm just mystified about what my tummy doesn't like. Why can't I just ask it and have it tell me? I really don't want to avoid chili for the rest of my life.
Or maybe I have an alien baby.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
That would have been classy
Last holiday season the state did a trial of opening up liquor stores in a few shopping malls for the holidays. Since the mall near my house is already ghetto unclassy (I do not lie), of course that mall was selected. As luck would have it, they opened the liquor store in a vacant store that was about 25 feet from Santa. I thought it was kind of weird and, yes, even more ghetto unclassy than the mall already is.
The store closed after the holidays.
However, in the spring a new store opened directly across from where the holiday liquor store was. A tattoo and body piercing store!!!! It's kind of goth-y; personally I think it's kind of interesting. But... alas, in a mall it IS kind of unclassy to open a tattoo and body piercing parlor. Lest you think I'm a stuck up snob, the store is positioned between an estate sale jewelry store and a Thai imports store... At least the mall has a Target and a Macy's and a movie theater. Those are the very few redeeming spots to the mall.
So, anyway, I go to the mall today and was BUMMED to find no holiday liquor store this year. Why? Because I had all sorts of jokes about going to the holiday liquor store, getting trashed, then going across the hall to the tattoo and body piercing shop and then stumble over to Santa to take a picture. Classy! Can you imagine how much fun you could have at the mall when you add liquor to the tattoos and body piercing? And a picture with Santa to top it off!
Is it only my mind that goes to all sorts of seediness? I would like to have a mind that is full of purity and whimsy, but I think I'm stuck with the one I've got.
I searched the web for a tattooed adult holding a liquor bottle and sitting on Santa's lap. That would have been most awesome, but unfortunately I couldn't find one to illustrate what image is going on in my head.
The store closed after the holidays.
However, in the spring a new store opened directly across from where the holiday liquor store was. A tattoo and body piercing store!!!! It's kind of goth-y; personally I think it's kind of interesting. But... alas, in a mall it IS kind of unclassy to open a tattoo and body piercing parlor. Lest you think I'm a stuck up snob, the store is positioned between an estate sale jewelry store and a Thai imports store... At least the mall has a Target and a Macy's and a movie theater. Those are the very few redeeming spots to the mall.
So, anyway, I go to the mall today and was BUMMED to find no holiday liquor store this year. Why? Because I had all sorts of jokes about going to the holiday liquor store, getting trashed, then going across the hall to the tattoo and body piercing shop and then stumble over to Santa to take a picture. Classy! Can you imagine how much fun you could have at the mall when you add liquor to the tattoos and body piercing? And a picture with Santa to top it off!
Is it only my mind that goes to all sorts of seediness? I would like to have a mind that is full of purity and whimsy, but I think I'm stuck with the one I've got.
I searched the web for a tattooed adult holding a liquor bottle and sitting on Santa's lap. That would have been most awesome, but unfortunately I couldn't find one to illustrate what image is going on in my head.
My Normalcy
I'm setting this one to post on Thursday morning because I love setting things to post.
My husband asked me about my new blog (see two posts ago). I told him, no, that he couldn't see it. He asked what it was about, and I said it was about my second life as a prostitute. And he just shook his head. Men. In all seriousness, I want to have at least a handful of posts there before I give out the address. It's hard to figure out how much of myself to put out there - kinda like this one - but I'm selective about who can see this one with people I know in real life, and if you just happen to stumble onto it via the internet, I'm not in real fear that you'll figure out who I am. It's not like I'm JLo. Cuz she has a butt and I don't; I'm sure that's the only way in which we differ though. ;)
I just got back from book club. This was the month we all read My Favorite Book Ever "Thirteen Reasons Why." I was nervous, and I thought they would all hate it. Since I was the one who suggested it, I had a vested interest in it NOT being like "Running with Scissors" - the one they all indeed hated and still talk about in a bad way over 2 years later. In a happy surprising way, they all really liked this book and thought it was worthwhile reading. Yay!
I suppose my trouble with book club is that book club really isn't about books; it's about making social connections with other women. As I have said before many times, I don't really understand women all that well. Plus, I'm very task-oriented. I'm the one at work who is cloistered at my desk; I don't chit chat in the halls except with people I know really well. I don't really relate well to most women. So this book club construct kind of confounds me, along the same lines as how Bunco confounds me.
You sit around and talk about the book for 15 minutes altogether and wind through a bajillion tangents about husbands' work, your kids, potty training, your friend with a drug problem, blah blah blah blah blah. Not that it isn't interesting, but I wanted to talk about the book and not just chit chat. If it was just mindless chit chat, it should be the Chit Chat Club and advertise it that way. And I sit there thinking, "Um, can I go home now and talk to my husband?" But they keep going and going and going, and I feel like a dweeb for ducking out because I'm always ducking out early. They are very nice women and are very welcoming. I feel bad for not being as into it as they are and always checking my watch after the first half hour of mindless chatter.
Why am I like this? Why? Why? Why? Why don't I desire to go shopping with other women? Why don't I like mindless chatter with other women? Why am I annoyed with women who say "You just don't understand, honey, because you only have 1 child"? Why don't I want to procreate a bajillion more times? Why do I listen to Snoop Dogg instead of the Christian radio station? Why don't I like Glenn Beck? Why do I classify spending two hours with a group of women as "mindless chatter" but talking to a guy for two hours is a "conversation"?
Those are the questions I ask myself as I leave book club. Those are the times I really feel alone in the world, like I will always be a square peg that will never fit in anywhere. I never did. I wasn't smart enough to hang around the smart girls (and they were kinda boring), I wasn't athletic enough to hang out with the athletic girls, I wasn't musical enough to hang out with the band girls, I wasn't offbeat enough to hang out with the drama girls, I wasn't slutty enough to hang out with the slutty girls, I wasn't in touch with my vices enough to hang out with the drugged out girls, I wasn't goth enough to hang out with the goth girls.
Now as an adult the story has changed slightly. I don't philosophically agree with private schools, so I don't fit in with the private school moms. I cannot relate much to the homeschooling moms because they tend to be waaaaay more religious than I am. I don't think my child is a genius, so I can't relate to the overachiever moms. I would like to join the "I want my child to be well-rounded, but my child is her own being and I can't live my life through her. I want to be myself without my sole identity being someone else's mom" mom's group. I still haven't found that group.
That's the short version of my thought process on my way home tonight. And then I come home to see my husband, and my world does that abrupt shift back to my normalcy, which isn't anyone else's normalcy but is my normalcy.
My husband asked me about my new blog (see two posts ago). I told him, no, that he couldn't see it. He asked what it was about, and I said it was about my second life as a prostitute. And he just shook his head. Men. In all seriousness, I want to have at least a handful of posts there before I give out the address. It's hard to figure out how much of myself to put out there - kinda like this one - but I'm selective about who can see this one with people I know in real life, and if you just happen to stumble onto it via the internet, I'm not in real fear that you'll figure out who I am. It's not like I'm JLo. Cuz she has a butt and I don't; I'm sure that's the only way in which we differ though. ;)
I just got back from book club. This was the month we all read My Favorite Book Ever "Thirteen Reasons Why." I was nervous, and I thought they would all hate it. Since I was the one who suggested it, I had a vested interest in it NOT being like "Running with Scissors" - the one they all indeed hated and still talk about in a bad way over 2 years later. In a happy surprising way, they all really liked this book and thought it was worthwhile reading. Yay!
I suppose my trouble with book club is that book club really isn't about books; it's about making social connections with other women. As I have said before many times, I don't really understand women all that well. Plus, I'm very task-oriented. I'm the one at work who is cloistered at my desk; I don't chit chat in the halls except with people I know really well. I don't really relate well to most women. So this book club construct kind of confounds me, along the same lines as how Bunco confounds me.
You sit around and talk about the book for 15 minutes altogether and wind through a bajillion tangents about husbands' work, your kids, potty training, your friend with a drug problem, blah blah blah blah blah. Not that it isn't interesting, but I wanted to talk about the book and not just chit chat. If it was just mindless chit chat, it should be the Chit Chat Club and advertise it that way. And I sit there thinking, "Um, can I go home now and talk to my husband?" But they keep going and going and going, and I feel like a dweeb for ducking out because I'm always ducking out early. They are very nice women and are very welcoming. I feel bad for not being as into it as they are and always checking my watch after the first half hour of mindless chatter.
Why am I like this? Why? Why? Why? Why don't I desire to go shopping with other women? Why don't I like mindless chatter with other women? Why am I annoyed with women who say "You just don't understand, honey, because you only have 1 child"? Why don't I want to procreate a bajillion more times? Why do I listen to Snoop Dogg instead of the Christian radio station? Why don't I like Glenn Beck? Why do I classify spending two hours with a group of women as "mindless chatter" but talking to a guy for two hours is a "conversation"?
Those are the questions I ask myself as I leave book club. Those are the times I really feel alone in the world, like I will always be a square peg that will never fit in anywhere. I never did. I wasn't smart enough to hang around the smart girls (and they were kinda boring), I wasn't athletic enough to hang out with the athletic girls, I wasn't musical enough to hang out with the band girls, I wasn't offbeat enough to hang out with the drama girls, I wasn't slutty enough to hang out with the slutty girls, I wasn't in touch with my vices enough to hang out with the drugged out girls, I wasn't goth enough to hang out with the goth girls.
Now as an adult the story has changed slightly. I don't philosophically agree with private schools, so I don't fit in with the private school moms. I cannot relate much to the homeschooling moms because they tend to be waaaaay more religious than I am. I don't think my child is a genius, so I can't relate to the overachiever moms. I would like to join the "I want my child to be well-rounded, but my child is her own being and I can't live my life through her. I want to be myself without my sole identity being someone else's mom" mom's group. I still haven't found that group.
That's the short version of my thought process on my way home tonight. And then I come home to see my husband, and my world does that abrupt shift back to my normalcy, which isn't anyone else's normalcy but is my normalcy.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)