This is a list from last week - school vacation week.
The topic was:
I Said I Would Never...
...date a supermarket stock boy. I dated him and six years later I married him. Ten years later I have 3 children with him and am still happily married to him.
...smoke cigarettes. I wish I never started. But I really like doing it. It's a terrible thing. I should quit...next week...
...smoke pot. I have. I don't...only because it makes me paranoid and makes me hyperventilate. Not good with pot.
...stay-at-home with the kids. It was my intention to climb to the top of the corporate ladder and sit a corner office overlooking the city. I got half way there and had a cholicky baby. I couldn't leave him. I quit my blossoming corporate career to stay home with my miserable son. Best decision I ever made.
...let my baby "cry it out". When I had my first child, he was colicky. My father-in-law, god rest his soul, father of 7 children and 17 grandchildren, advised me that sometimes the best thing to do was put him in his crib and let him cry. I said, pompously, “I am an intelligent woman. Surely I can find a better way to help my child than leaving him alone.” Being a wise man, he said, “Good for you” and let it go at that. I later found that sometimes the only thing you can do is let him alone to cry. Then when you pick him up he is so grateful for your company that he stops crying.
...let my baby cry himself to sleep. When it's been 8 months and the kid still gets up 5 times a night, it's time to let him cry himself to sleep.
...let the television babysit my children. Sadly, I do it all the time - but not all day long.
...yell at my kids. My father was a psychotic yeller. I always thought if he didn't yell all the time then we would listen to him before he started yelling. I yell at my kids...have done it in public too. Sometimes they just don't listen until you start yelling.
...let my kids run amuck at the mall. When it's been a long, miserable winter or a long stretch of rainy weather, sometimes the only place a kid can run is the mall...so, Run Forrest Run...Run Like the Wind!!!
...bribe my kids to do things. A little bribery goes a long way. Sorry, if a piece of candy is going to get us in and out of the grocery store quickly and peacefully...a "peace" of candy they will get...and you will thank me for it.
...beg my kids to do anything. They haven't figured it out yet - but the kids really do hold all the cards.
...threaten my kids to do things. Just like bribery and begging, threats are sometimes the only thing that will work. On a Friday night, after a long hectic week, when all I want is a bottle of wine and a good movie - the attic is my best friend...they don't want to sleep up there with the bats.
...force my kids to do anything. Sometimes you know what they need better than they know what they want. Like swimming lessons. I think it's important they know how to swim in case they fall into deep waters.
...drink alcohol while pregnant. Doc said I could have one stiff drink every night. I had a glass of wine every night that I didn't fall asleep the second my pregnant ass hit the mattress.
...drive a minivan. I drive one...and I can't believe how much I love this beast!
...get a DVD player in my minivan. I got one...and it keeps the kids happy for long car rides.
...let myself go. I did...as a result of my last pregnancy. But I'm trying to get my old body back.
That's what I came up with in 30 Minutes on the Machine. Never Say Never...or You Will!!
Thursday, April 27, 2006
Barf-A-Rama
Today's topis was pretty boring. The boys and I played a game. We tried to name animals for each letter A-Z. But It was interesting to see what animals they thought of and often surprising.
So, I'm not going to bore you with today's list.
Instead, here is yesterday's topic:
Things that Gross Me Out:
Regarding Eating
Eating sounds: Since I was a child, eating sounds have always grossed me out. I know everyone makes them. I know I make them. But they still make me sick. I think because my father ate very loudly. He could slurp up anything...even dry, sticky rice! I think it may be a Korean thing - eating loudly - like one of those if you can't hear them eating they must not be enjoying...Anyways. It drives me nutz!
Food particles: I find it really repulsive when people eat so piggishly that they get food stuck on their face. Jeesh. Just slow down. Take smaller bites. There are no coyotes or vultures behind the drapes!
Neck Twisiting: Dan has this habit of twisting his neck every time he swallows. It is a result of eating years of his father's over-cooked food. The food was so dry that in order to swallow it he had to twist his neck. I am a very good cook and rarely overcook things so he should stop doing that. I hate it.
Finger Licking: Grosses me out. Especially the smacking sound that accompanies finger licking.
Regarding Feet
Cracked-up Crusty Feet: Really, REALLY grosses me out!
Cracked up Crusty Toenails: They have stuff to fix that you know...or just don't wear open toe shoes...
Smelly Feet: It's really bad when someone can smell your feety from over 5 feet above.
Dirty Toenails: Gross when there's stuff stuck under them.
Long Toenails: Besides being really ugly, that can't feel good wedged up against the inside of a shoe - but then again if I am noticing your overly long toenails then you must not be wearing shoes. Just cut them for gawd sake!
Yellow Toenails: Ewe.
Regarding Breath
Bad Breath: Another thing that I am highly sensitive to is bad breath.
Hungry Breath: THis is the way a person's breath smells when they have gone too long since eating. I used to notice this a lot when I worked in the corporate setting.
Coffee Breath: I just don't like it. Chew some gum.
Banana Breath: My father always ate bananas and then would get really close to my face and yell at me. He didn't eat bananas in order to yell at me. It just happens that he was always eating bananas and yelling at me. As a result - I find banana breath really offensive.
Wisdom Tooth Breath: This is the way a mouth can smell after having a wisdom tooth extraction - sort of pussy, infected, stanky type of smell. I know it's not your fault - but please just don't talk to me until your mouth has healed or I might hurl.
Regarding Kids
Ear Waxy kids: When I was a kid, there was this boy in my class who always had large clumps of yellow and brown ear wax hanging out in his ears...not once in a while...not a little...I mean all the time and a LOT of it! He was also always dirty and smelly. Now that I am grown up I feel sorry for this kid because I know he was neglected. But he was the start of my awareness of personal hygene. Anyways, I cannot stand ear wax. I've seen ear wax in the ears of many a very well cared for child so ear wax is not indication of how well a child is cared for but it still grosses me out.
Snotty kids: My kids have been snotty kids. Sometimes it's hard to keep up with their runny noses and running legs...But it's still gross.
General Hygene
Dandruff: Just gross.
Oily Hair: Wash it and it won't be oily anymore.
Afro-hair: It's really a cool look. Really. But to me it always looks like it must smell scalpy or something must be living in it.
Toilets: I guess I've cleaned so many toilets that every toilet just looks like little boys have been miss-firing, puking or spewing diahreah on them. Toilets are gross.
Sink Crud: It's gross even though I know it's just food particles.
Hair: The hair that collects at the bottom of the bathtub/shower really grosses me out. I don't know why. I mean, it's clean. But I guess it just looks really gross.
Garbage Cans: Particularly in the summer...and if someone throws something away that needs to be retrieved.
Dog Poop: I don't know why but dog poop in particular really grosses me out. I can shovel barrels and barrels full of horse poop - walk all over, climb on top of it - but I see a little tiny speck of dog poop and I feel like I need to shower for an hour.
Diaper Genie: I am almost through with my Diaper Genie forever! Yahoo! Can't wait to throw it away!
Gym Bags: I cringe when I see it sitting in the laundry room. I dread going into it. My skin crawls before I even touch it. My future looks bleak as I am sure that sometime in the near future I will have 3 more disgusting gym bags to go through.
Finding Old Bottles: Every once in a while a bottle will turn up - usually filled with old, curdled milk. Gross. I used to wash and santize. Now I just toss the whole thing away.
Cleaning up Vomit: Need I say more.
Vomitting into a Toilet: I know this is where you are supposed to puke. But just the idea of putting my face where people put their asses is enough to make me puke.
Out Houses: No explanation needed.
Public Showering Facilities: Just looks like athelete's foot waiting to happen.
That's what I came up with in 30 Minutes on the Machine. Now I need to take a really long scalding hot shower...
Desperation
I had a really disturbing dream but I can't recall all the details of it anymore...I waited too long to write it down. But here's the just of it...Are you paying attention Jas?
Black guy, he did something - I don't remember now what he did but I get the feeling that it was not a crime but something that was perhaps not socially normal or accepted. I am not involved - I am like a spectator - but not an audience, just kind of like an angel. I feel really sad for this guy and want to stop this injustice. Actually I feel quite furious about the injustice and scared for what is about to happen to him. I feel sad for how he must feel right now - besides being scared - he must feel so hurt. A group of people (I think they were all men, a small group maybe like 5 guys) get him and drag him struggling into a barn - a big, lofty barn. They say they are going to _____??? him. Basically, cattle tie him and shove something up his ass. They tie him up with rope - legs and arms pulled up behind him - like the way they tie cattle but backwards. He is naked, tied up in the position. I am feeling desperate for him - trying to will the guys not to do what they are doing and to understand the injustice of their mindset and the inhumanity of their actions. The black guy is hysterical - scared, crying, begging them not to do this to him. They are laughing, taunting, self-righteous. The leader guy is wearing blue plastic gloves and he is preparing a blue thing to shove into the black guy. I notice he is not using any lubricant and I am further horrified.
I wake up with an aweful feeling.
What the heck does this dream mean?!!! Please tell me I am not a pervert or dormant psycho...
I had a really disturbing dream but I can't recall all the details of it anymore...I waited too long to write it down. But here's the just of it...Are you paying attention Jas?
Black guy, he did something - I don't remember now what he did but I get the feeling that it was not a crime but something that was perhaps not socially normal or accepted. I am not involved - I am like a spectator - but not an audience, just kind of like an angel. I feel really sad for this guy and want to stop this injustice. Actually I feel quite furious about the injustice and scared for what is about to happen to him. I feel sad for how he must feel right now - besides being scared - he must feel so hurt. A group of people (I think they were all men, a small group maybe like 5 guys) get him and drag him struggling into a barn - a big, lofty barn. They say they are going to _____??? him. Basically, cattle tie him and shove something up his ass. They tie him up with rope - legs and arms pulled up behind him - like the way they tie cattle but backwards. He is naked, tied up in the position. I am feeling desperate for him - trying to will the guys not to do what they are doing and to understand the injustice of their mindset and the inhumanity of their actions. The black guy is hysterical - scared, crying, begging them not to do this to him. They are laughing, taunting, self-righteous. The leader guy is wearing blue plastic gloves and he is preparing a blue thing to shove into the black guy. I notice he is not using any lubricant and I am further horrified.
I wake up with an aweful feeling.
What the heck does this dream mean?!!! Please tell me I am not a pervert or dormant psycho...
No. Not Now. Not ever again.
Hello Kiddies.
It suddenly occurred to me that there may be several people out there that may be very curious as to the status of my mid-section.
Am I pregers?
No.
Not now.
Not ever again. (Although, now that I said "never" I may have just jinxed myself. I always say, "Never say Never or you Probably Will".
Anyways.
So now. How to keep Pandora's Box sealed tight and locked...
The sure fire-est way, of course, is Abstinence. Not really sure I could stick to this plan though...and am quite certain that Dan will not stick to this plan...so better come up with another.
I could send Danno to Doc Snip'it. Does insurance cover that? I'm really not sure. Insurance does not cover diaphrams. I found this out after I had #3 and needed to get a new one. I forget exactly how much it costs...but I had figured out that if I purchased a new diaphram it would be like spending something like $10/use for a year. Sex isn't that exciting anymore...not worth $10 a session (sad, isn't it)...so I didn't get a new diaphram. I bought a box of condoms.
Condoms. Not really such a terrible option actually. I know. It sounds so high school. But, it's nice and clean...nothing sticky and slimy dripping down my legs later (sorry - I know that's kind of graphic). And, actually, you can turn it into a fun little game of "let's pretend". We can pretend to be horny little teenagers. That might be fun.
But I guess condoms are kind of an inconvenient. So back to the vasectomy. I'm a little worried about psychological repercussions. Dan is very sensitive about his package. I mean, if something goes awry during sex...like the little guy...I mean the Big Guy doesn't cooperate, it screws him up for weeks.
I guess I could get my tubes ties...but that would be painful. I've had my abdomen sliced open before. I had a c-section when Alex was born. Not fun. Not fun at all. It makes using your stomach in any way very painful...laughing, coughing, peeing....it would make yelling at my family really hard. I don't think this will be a good choice.
Choices...choices...so many choices. I wonder if Dan is up for a little game of High School Lust...next week.
It suddenly occurred to me that there may be several people out there that may be very curious as to the status of my mid-section.
Am I pregers?
No.
Not now.
Not ever again. (Although, now that I said "never" I may have just jinxed myself. I always say, "Never say Never or you Probably Will".
Anyways.
So now. How to keep Pandora's Box sealed tight and locked...
The sure fire-est way, of course, is Abstinence. Not really sure I could stick to this plan though...and am quite certain that Dan will not stick to this plan...so better come up with another.
I could send Danno to Doc Snip'it. Does insurance cover that? I'm really not sure. Insurance does not cover diaphrams. I found this out after I had #3 and needed to get a new one. I forget exactly how much it costs...but I had figured out that if I purchased a new diaphram it would be like spending something like $10/use for a year. Sex isn't that exciting anymore...not worth $10 a session (sad, isn't it)...so I didn't get a new diaphram. I bought a box of condoms.
Condoms. Not really such a terrible option actually. I know. It sounds so high school. But, it's nice and clean...nothing sticky and slimy dripping down my legs later (sorry - I know that's kind of graphic). And, actually, you can turn it into a fun little game of "let's pretend". We can pretend to be horny little teenagers. That might be fun.
But I guess condoms are kind of an inconvenient. So back to the vasectomy. I'm a little worried about psychological repercussions. Dan is very sensitive about his package. I mean, if something goes awry during sex...like the little guy...I mean the Big Guy doesn't cooperate, it screws him up for weeks.
I guess I could get my tubes ties...but that would be painful. I've had my abdomen sliced open before. I had a c-section when Alex was born. Not fun. Not fun at all. It makes using your stomach in any way very painful...laughing, coughing, peeing....it would make yelling at my family really hard. I don't think this will be a good choice.
Choices...choices...so many choices. I wonder if Dan is up for a little game of High School Lust...next week.
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
Dream Jobs
This is a list from last week.
Dream Jobs
Dream Jobs
- Personal Shopper for a multi-millionaire: Wouldn't that be fun to spend someone else's money?!!
- Acclaimed Artist, Acclaimed because I'd like to make a lot of money at it.
- Acclaimed Writer - write and get paid for it
- Acclaimed Musician - play and get paid for it
- Fashion Model: It would be fun to look that great and be paid for it.
- One of JLo's fly girls: wouldn't that be fun?!!
- Horse Exerciser - I guess I do this but I'd like to make more money doing it
- Horse Groomer - ditto
- Personal Chef - ditto
- Movie Critic - ditto
- Restaurant Critic - ditto
- Bench Warmer: I don't actually want to play in the game - juts get paid for showing up
- The girl in the kissing booth (but only if the booth is at the Gorgeous Guys Gala)
- Masseuse to the stars...hot male stars
- Make-up Counter Makeover Girl: I would make everyone look hideous - like Mimi from the Drew Carey Show
- Perfume Sample girl: "accidentally" spray bitchy snobs in the eyes as they walk by.
- Telephone salesperson: But I'd only call other telephone sales people
- Paris Hilton: Even though I despise her, it would be fun to be her - thin, beautiful, wealthy, noone has any expectations of her
- Angelina Jolie: I love her. I wish I was her. Beautiful, talented, humanitarian...and gets to sleep with Brad Pitt.
That's all folkz! That's what I came up with in 30 Minutes on the Machine.
Things I Would Like To Do
The topic of the day:
Things I Would Like to Do
- Do a stint in the Peace Corps
- Ride a donkey down the Grand Canyon: I doubt I will ever actually work up the nerves to do this as I am very afraid of heights, slipping off cliffs and have personally experienced how clumsy horses can be (even though I know donkies are different than horses they look the same to my, just smaller...plus I think the little guy would slip off the trail just to get my fat ass ofzf of him). Go on a cross-country road trip and hit all the landmarks including the Grand Canyon, Graceland and the Museum of Theoretical Horrors.
- Drink myself through Wine Country
- Drink myself through Beer Country
- Drink myself through Disney World (Oh, already did that one)
- Dive off a waterfall (Doubt I would ever have the nerves to do this)
- Make love in some really romantic place - like a secret lagoon
- Help and under-priveledged child: Take an under-priveledged, needy child into my home and heart. I really like the idea of giving a child with a bleak future a bright one, but don't know if I really have it in me. Plus, I don't think Dan would want to do it...and I think it costs a lot of money to adopt
- Sleep through the night: I can't even remember when I last slept through the night - more than 1 night in a row.
- Organize a Family Exchange: I would like to organize a direct exchange between families that have a lot of stuff and families that have nothing. For families with stuff to give (like well worn clothes, toys, furniture, etc) them to families that need help. I'd like to pair up families with another specific family of similar structure (except maybe the children would be little younger so that they can wear the handed down clothing). People in my circle tend to have too much stuff anzd grow tired of the stuff they have very quickly. I think they would like to give it to someone who will put it to good use but don't know who and don't want to give ity to Salvation Army because they just sell it off. I think people don't like to give the stuff that they spent their own hard earned money on to some unknown destination. I think if people had a specific family with names and faces they would be very generous and perhaps find themselves being more generous. The only thing is that I don't know how to find families that are not too proud to be a part of this kind of charity...and also if there will be all sorts of legal crap to weed through. Just want it to be simple and easy and helpful.
- Fly First Class
- Win Megabucks
- Be a contestant on Survivor (and win)
- Do a hunter pace and take All the jumps
- Take a cross-country riding trip with the boys and Dan (but Dan is very allergic to horses)
- Go on an African safari
- Learn to ballroom dance with Antonio Banderas
- Make out with Brad Pitt
- Meet Angelina Jolie and become her friend
- Tell Paris Hilton what a ridiculous, frivolous waste of beauty and wealth she is and see her actually Do something useful with her life.
That's it folks. That's what I came up with in 30 Minutes on the Machine.
Monday, April 24, 2006
Claustrophobia
I can't believe I haven't gotten my period yet.
I really need to get it. I am being such a lunatic!
But if I don't get it for like another week then I will still be skinny when I go to Miami. If I get it now, I will be PMSing.
But when was my last period? I really can't remember. I shouldn't have stopped keeping track. I just didn't think I would ever think I was...I'm not gonna think it. It's absolutely impossible. Things just don't happen to me by accidident.
Darn. When was my last period?!
Let's see. I finished my period the day we got to Disney World...that was a Friday...April...oops, no...March 3. I'm sure I had a period since then...let's see...Did I have my period when I went to the doctor? I think I did. I remember telling the nurse I just finished...oh...That was the same period in March.
Shit...shit...shit. When was my last period?!
I don't feel different. Just really crazy...but that's not unheard of...but I do feel really, Really crazy...but we did just wrap up school vacation week. Gawd, I've been so exhausted lately...I mean more exhausted than usual...but maybe that's because they increased the dosage on the Mirapex. But why did the restless legs kick in again? The Mirapex has been working great up until a couple months ago. The restless legs always started before I even knew for sure I was pregnant. It never went away the third time...maybe the hormones are so powerful that the dosage on the Mirapex wasn't strong enough anymore. I am not pregnant.
Last week I baked cookies...that's weird. I never bake...maybe I'm nesting...naw. I just felt like being a "good" mommy...and I felt like Tollhouse cookies...was that a craving? I don't like sweet stuff...
Oh, I think I had my period the last time I volunteered in the classroom...and that was...March 27. Did I have my period? I can't remember. I think I did. I hope I did. That would be just perfect because then I will still be skinny when I go to Miami in a few weeks.
Hopefully I'll get it at the end of the week. What if I don't...that would be horrible. I'm horrible for thinking that would be horrible. I just don't think I could do another baby. I don't think I could be pregnant again. I can't go through all that baby stuff again. I am so burned out with it.
I should have sent Dan to get the ol' snip job. I'm gonna send him to get it. I can't be pregnant again. I'm sure that would just put me right over the edge...another baby...and I'm sure it would be another boy...but I guess if we had another baby I would want another boy...or maybe a girl. But what would we do with a girl? That would be weird. My whole life has been about little boys. I like being the mother of all boys. We'de have to come up with a "D" name...Danielle, Denise, Dianne...Dustin, Devon, Derek...
It doesn't matter. I'm not pregnant. I'm not even late...I don't think...but the psychic said I was going to have another baby. That was 2 years ago. She said probably some time in the next two years. She was so positive - without a doubt...she said I am definatly going to have another baby. I thought she was totally off the loop...but she's said other things that seemed way off base and they've all come true.
I really hope I'm not pregnant. I've always thought that surprise babies were romantic..."Love Children". You know, not planned...a product of a truly loving moment. But it wouldn't feel very romantic...at least not now...maybe a few years ago when I was still in baby mode. But now I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. I'm almost there. I don't think I can stay in this tunnel anymore. I feel claustrophobic in here.
Oh no...I've been smoking and drinking a lot lately...that's harmful to the fetus...what if I'm pregnant...I hope the baby doesn't get sick from it...but I'm not pregnant...anyways....isn't that how some women get pregnant??...getting drunk and then having crazy, awesome sex?
Speaking of sex. I can't be pregant. We hardly ever even have sex...But those little guys obviously know their way - I always got pregnant first try. Maybe one slipped through security. If that's the case then I guess this baby is really determined to be...
I'm not pregnant. I can't be pregnant. I Will get my period at the end of the week...
I really need to get it. I am being such a lunatic!
But if I don't get it for like another week then I will still be skinny when I go to Miami. If I get it now, I will be PMSing.
But when was my last period? I really can't remember. I shouldn't have stopped keeping track. I just didn't think I would ever think I was...I'm not gonna think it. It's absolutely impossible. Things just don't happen to me by accidident.
Darn. When was my last period?!
Let's see. I finished my period the day we got to Disney World...that was a Friday...April...oops, no...March 3. I'm sure I had a period since then...let's see...Did I have my period when I went to the doctor? I think I did. I remember telling the nurse I just finished...oh...That was the same period in March.
Shit...shit...shit. When was my last period?!
I don't feel different. Just really crazy...but that's not unheard of...but I do feel really, Really crazy...but we did just wrap up school vacation week. Gawd, I've been so exhausted lately...I mean more exhausted than usual...but maybe that's because they increased the dosage on the Mirapex. But why did the restless legs kick in again? The Mirapex has been working great up until a couple months ago. The restless legs always started before I even knew for sure I was pregnant. It never went away the third time...maybe the hormones are so powerful that the dosage on the Mirapex wasn't strong enough anymore. I am not pregnant.
Last week I baked cookies...that's weird. I never bake...maybe I'm nesting...naw. I just felt like being a "good" mommy...and I felt like Tollhouse cookies...was that a craving? I don't like sweet stuff...
Oh, I think I had my period the last time I volunteered in the classroom...and that was...March 27. Did I have my period? I can't remember. I think I did. I hope I did. That would be just perfect because then I will still be skinny when I go to Miami in a few weeks.
Hopefully I'll get it at the end of the week. What if I don't...that would be horrible. I'm horrible for thinking that would be horrible. I just don't think I could do another baby. I don't think I could be pregnant again. I can't go through all that baby stuff again. I am so burned out with it.
I should have sent Dan to get the ol' snip job. I'm gonna send him to get it. I can't be pregnant again. I'm sure that would just put me right over the edge...another baby...and I'm sure it would be another boy...but I guess if we had another baby I would want another boy...or maybe a girl. But what would we do with a girl? That would be weird. My whole life has been about little boys. I like being the mother of all boys. We'de have to come up with a "D" name...Danielle, Denise, Dianne...Dustin, Devon, Derek...
It doesn't matter. I'm not pregnant. I'm not even late...I don't think...but the psychic said I was going to have another baby. That was 2 years ago. She said probably some time in the next two years. She was so positive - without a doubt...she said I am definatly going to have another baby. I thought she was totally off the loop...but she's said other things that seemed way off base and they've all come true.
I really hope I'm not pregnant. I've always thought that surprise babies were romantic..."Love Children". You know, not planned...a product of a truly loving moment. But it wouldn't feel very romantic...at least not now...maybe a few years ago when I was still in baby mode. But now I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. I'm almost there. I don't think I can stay in this tunnel anymore. I feel claustrophobic in here.
Oh no...I've been smoking and drinking a lot lately...that's harmful to the fetus...what if I'm pregnant...I hope the baby doesn't get sick from it...but I'm not pregnant...anyways....isn't that how some women get pregnant??...getting drunk and then having crazy, awesome sex?
Speaking of sex. I can't be pregant. We hardly ever even have sex...But those little guys obviously know their way - I always got pregnant first try. Maybe one slipped through security. If that's the case then I guess this baby is really determined to be...
I'm not pregnant. I can't be pregnant. I Will get my period at the end of the week...
Thursday, April 20, 2006
Hell Hath No Wrath
It is so beautiful outside - sunny, warm, green.
But I am in THE WORST MOOD EVER!
Maybe I'm hung over. Last night was date night and one of our couple friends joined us for dinner. We had a great time, but drank way too much for a Wednesday night. I could just be burnt out from school vacation week. It has been non-stop, little boy action all week - back-to-back, multiple playdates, sleep overs, and just general running amuck has really worn me down.
But really, I think I'm PMSing.
I am in one of those I hate everyone and everything moods.
Poor Dan. He usually takes the brunt of my crabby moods. It's just that when I get in this state, I can't stand to see him - I just want to rip his face off and stomp on it. It doesn't matter what he is doing. Just being in the same room with me makes me want to shove him aside for "getting in my way". The poor guy could be standing there, minding his own business and I get this unbelievable urge to reach out and wack him for "not doing anything". And gawd forbid if he actually tries to help me with something - it takes every ounce of self-control not to slap him for not doing it "correctly". I'm pretty sure he knows better than to try to touch me when I feel like this. But if he does I'm sure I will scream for him to get his disgusting man hands off of me.
I feel so bad for him.
He just can't win.
It's really best for him to just keep his distance from me until this thing passes. But then I will probably be so enraged that he is ignoring me that I will throw a crazy bitchin tantrum.
Hell hath no wrath as great as that of a PMSing woman.
But I am in THE WORST MOOD EVER!
Maybe I'm hung over. Last night was date night and one of our couple friends joined us for dinner. We had a great time, but drank way too much for a Wednesday night. I could just be burnt out from school vacation week. It has been non-stop, little boy action all week - back-to-back, multiple playdates, sleep overs, and just general running amuck has really worn me down.
But really, I think I'm PMSing.
I am in one of those I hate everyone and everything moods.
Poor Dan. He usually takes the brunt of my crabby moods. It's just that when I get in this state, I can't stand to see him - I just want to rip his face off and stomp on it. It doesn't matter what he is doing. Just being in the same room with me makes me want to shove him aside for "getting in my way". The poor guy could be standing there, minding his own business and I get this unbelievable urge to reach out and wack him for "not doing anything". And gawd forbid if he actually tries to help me with something - it takes every ounce of self-control not to slap him for not doing it "correctly". I'm pretty sure he knows better than to try to touch me when I feel like this. But if he does I'm sure I will scream for him to get his disgusting man hands off of me.
I feel so bad for him.
He just can't win.
It's really best for him to just keep his distance from me until this thing passes. But then I will probably be so enraged that he is ignoring me that I will throw a crazy bitchin tantrum.
Hell hath no wrath as great as that of a PMSing woman.
Tuesday, April 18, 2006
Desperate Times Call for Desperate Action
I've been staying at home with the kids for 6 1/2 years now. During those years there have been many days of frigid cold, burning winds, pouring rain, blistering heat and days when there just seemed to be noone left one earth but us. These were desperate times that called for desperate action. Over the years I have invented some interesting activities to keep the children happily occupied...activities which Dan, my loving but unimaginative husband, has considered completely insane...activities that sometimes drove him off the deep end when he came home, exhausted from a hard day at work, to discover the aftermath of our day.
Rock Box: One day as I was trying to clear some built-up clutter I discovered a shallow rubbermaid container under my bed. I dumped everything in it and went out to the driveway where I filled it up with little rocks. The Rock Box has provided hours and hours of entertainment to the boys over the years. I think this was a brilliant idea - Dan hates it and curses at it whenever it comes out of hiding.
Sand Box: On another day, when the kids seemed to tire of the rock box, I retrieved another shallow tote and filled it with sand. I let the kids add glitter and other shinky objects. This kept them happy for a very long time. Of course, sand got on the floor - but nothing a little vacuuming couldn't fix. Dan was enraged when he came home and found sand all over the playroom. I thought it was another brilliant idea.
Homemade Squirt Guns: One hot and humid summer day we were short on squirt guns so I went into the house and emptied a bottle of relish that was in an easy squirt container. Of course, the kids (mine and neighbors) thought this was delightful and they all abandoned their squirt guns and wanted their own bottles so, of course, being the compliant playmaster I went into the house and emptied out as many easy squirt condiment containers as I could find that were not too full and that we had not used in a while.
Digging Holes: One day when playing in the sandbox had lost its appeal, I gave the kids shovels, real shovels and let them dig a real hole in the yard. Needless to say, Dan was NOT PLEASED!! I told him we were going to plant a tree.
Plant a Tree: One summer day, just after Colin was born, I went into the woods, dug up a big, thin tree (tall as the house). I dragged it into the front yard and planted it. Alex, Brandon, Colin, Jeffrey (the boy across the street who we call our surrogate son) and I sat on the lawn and waited for Dan to come so we could see his reaction upon seeing a big tree on the front lawn. When he got home, he got out of his car and with a twinkle in his eye gave me that "you're so crazy" look (I think this is one of the things he likes about me - that I'm a little bit crazy). We all pointed at Colin and said, "He did it!" Later the tree died, most of it, so I cut it down to the base where there were new shoots popping up. The "tree" still lives on our front lawn and even though it doesn't look that good and it would be a good spot for a lamp post, I can't bring myself to get rid of it.
Drive Around: Summers here can get blistering hot and the humidity is insane. The humidity can make an 80 degree day feel 120. Sometimes when the heat gets to us we jump in the minivan, crank up the air conditioner and I let the boys take turns driving around the neighborhood on my lap. We can only do this on the days when there seems to be noone left on earth but us because we have uptight neighbors.
Quicksand: My siblings and I invented this game when we were kids. Since the floor in our childhood home had beige carpeting, the floor was quicksand - we also had red carpeting and then it was hot lava (if you have black flooring, it can be moulten tar, green flooring can be acid chemicals...whatever color you can invent an appropriate substance). IN my home now we have hard wood floors, so it is quicksand. The game is that you have to move around the room without touching the floor. You have to try to use just the furniture or ledges on walls but if you are desperate you can throw a pillow down. But you can only use 2 pillows at a time. Fun!
Indoor Sledding: Find a large piece of cardboard or posterboard and use it as a sled (or you can use a real sled but they tend to be too slippery and you slid off the or go too fast) to slide down the stairs. Be sure to put cushions at the bottom.
Chipping Ice: The ice maker always seems to accumulate large chunks of ice. So, sometimes I let the boys chip the ice. Good tools that are not too dangerous are meat tenderizer hammer, grapefruit spoon, Sciccors. Be prepared to rush to the emergency room. I've never had to do this...yet.
Scavenger Hunt: Hide change all over the house. When they find all the money you can go to the Dollar Store and let them buy a toy.
Dungeons and Dragons Obstacle Course: We build obstacle courses including things that swing back and forth (like a pretend blade swinging), things that you have to dive over, crawl under and squeeze through. We time the trials. One time we actually pulled down the ceiling with one of our contraptions.
Peel Potatos: Believe it or not, the kids enjoy this and it takes them a long time to peel one potato - and then you don't have to peel them for dinner.
Painting: Sometimes I let them paint themselves. But it can be very messy and then you have to give them baths. Sometimes I make them lie down and blind fold them and they have to stay perfectly still while I paint them. Little kids are very ticklish so it is hard to stay still - especially for Brand who is the tickliest little kid ever - I can't even wash him and put lotion on him without him melting into ticklish convulsions.
Play Drag Queen: The boys won't play this with me anymore. But we used to put on all my old party clothes and costume jewelery adn do drag queen make-up. It was fun. Dan says if anyone turns queer it's all my fault. But I don't think anyone "turns queer", I think you either are or you're not and if they are then I would want them to feel accepted as they are.
Deconstruction: Give them some old appliance to take apart.
Hammering: Give them a block of wood and a hammer and let them hammer away. They even like to have colored strings to tie around the nails. They call the finished object an "Evil Web Catcher".
Sew: The boys enjoy using the sewing machine. I think they enjoy anything mechanical.
Typing: On an old fashioned typewriter.
Tin Foil: An oldie but goodie - always fun to play tin men - but sucks when you need tin foil and discover that you have none.
Guessing Game: Another oldie but goodie: Close your eyes and guess what it is.
That is what I could recall in 30 Minutes on the Machine.
This week the boys are on holiday from school. It will be a long week with no particular agenda on the calendar. And then there is the long summer break looming just ahead. So, my mind is turning - what to do...what to do...
The topic of the day:
Things that I have done in Desperate Times:
Kiddie Pool: One day, well into the business of winter, I brought the little blue, plastic kiddie pool into the house. I laid towels all around and filled it up with warm water. I turned on a space heater and let the kids "swim". Somehow this was very different than filling the bathrub up with water. This kept them busy and happy for the greater portion of a day. They've asked me to do it again, but I havent' been that desperate yet.
Rock Box: One day as I was trying to clear some built-up clutter I discovered a shallow rubbermaid container under my bed. I dumped everything in it and went out to the driveway where I filled it up with little rocks. The Rock Box has provided hours and hours of entertainment to the boys over the years. I think this was a brilliant idea - Dan hates it and curses at it whenever it comes out of hiding.
Sand Box: On another day, when the kids seemed to tire of the rock box, I retrieved another shallow tote and filled it with sand. I let the kids add glitter and other shinky objects. This kept them happy for a very long time. Of course, sand got on the floor - but nothing a little vacuuming couldn't fix. Dan was enraged when he came home and found sand all over the playroom. I thought it was another brilliant idea.
Homemade Squirt Guns: One hot and humid summer day we were short on squirt guns so I went into the house and emptied a bottle of relish that was in an easy squirt container. Of course, the kids (mine and neighbors) thought this was delightful and they all abandoned their squirt guns and wanted their own bottles so, of course, being the compliant playmaster I went into the house and emptied out as many easy squirt condiment containers as I could find that were not too full and that we had not used in a while.
Digging Holes: One day when playing in the sandbox had lost its appeal, I gave the kids shovels, real shovels and let them dig a real hole in the yard. Needless to say, Dan was NOT PLEASED!! I told him we were going to plant a tree.
Plant a Tree: One summer day, just after Colin was born, I went into the woods, dug up a big, thin tree (tall as the house). I dragged it into the front yard and planted it. Alex, Brandon, Colin, Jeffrey (the boy across the street who we call our surrogate son) and I sat on the lawn and waited for Dan to come so we could see his reaction upon seeing a big tree on the front lawn. When he got home, he got out of his car and with a twinkle in his eye gave me that "you're so crazy" look (I think this is one of the things he likes about me - that I'm a little bit crazy). We all pointed at Colin and said, "He did it!" Later the tree died, most of it, so I cut it down to the base where there were new shoots popping up. The "tree" still lives on our front lawn and even though it doesn't look that good and it would be a good spot for a lamp post, I can't bring myself to get rid of it.
Drive Around: Summers here can get blistering hot and the humidity is insane. The humidity can make an 80 degree day feel 120. Sometimes when the heat gets to us we jump in the minivan, crank up the air conditioner and I let the boys take turns driving around the neighborhood on my lap. We can only do this on the days when there seems to be noone left on earth but us because we have uptight neighbors.
Quicksand: My siblings and I invented this game when we were kids. Since the floor in our childhood home had beige carpeting, the floor was quicksand - we also had red carpeting and then it was hot lava (if you have black flooring, it can be moulten tar, green flooring can be acid chemicals...whatever color you can invent an appropriate substance). IN my home now we have hard wood floors, so it is quicksand. The game is that you have to move around the room without touching the floor. You have to try to use just the furniture or ledges on walls but if you are desperate you can throw a pillow down. But you can only use 2 pillows at a time. Fun!
Indoor Sledding: Find a large piece of cardboard or posterboard and use it as a sled (or you can use a real sled but they tend to be too slippery and you slid off the or go too fast) to slide down the stairs. Be sure to put cushions at the bottom.
Chipping Ice: The ice maker always seems to accumulate large chunks of ice. So, sometimes I let the boys chip the ice. Good tools that are not too dangerous are meat tenderizer hammer, grapefruit spoon, Sciccors. Be prepared to rush to the emergency room. I've never had to do this...yet.
Scavenger Hunt: Hide change all over the house. When they find all the money you can go to the Dollar Store and let them buy a toy.
Dungeons and Dragons Obstacle Course: We build obstacle courses including things that swing back and forth (like a pretend blade swinging), things that you have to dive over, crawl under and squeeze through. We time the trials. One time we actually pulled down the ceiling with one of our contraptions.
Peel Potatos: Believe it or not, the kids enjoy this and it takes them a long time to peel one potato - and then you don't have to peel them for dinner.
Painting: Sometimes I let them paint themselves. But it can be very messy and then you have to give them baths. Sometimes I make them lie down and blind fold them and they have to stay perfectly still while I paint them. Little kids are very ticklish so it is hard to stay still - especially for Brand who is the tickliest little kid ever - I can't even wash him and put lotion on him without him melting into ticklish convulsions.
Play Drag Queen: The boys won't play this with me anymore. But we used to put on all my old party clothes and costume jewelery adn do drag queen make-up. It was fun. Dan says if anyone turns queer it's all my fault. But I don't think anyone "turns queer", I think you either are or you're not and if they are then I would want them to feel accepted as they are.
Deconstruction: Give them some old appliance to take apart.
Hammering: Give them a block of wood and a hammer and let them hammer away. They even like to have colored strings to tie around the nails. They call the finished object an "Evil Web Catcher".
Sew: The boys enjoy using the sewing machine. I think they enjoy anything mechanical.
Typing: On an old fashioned typewriter.
Tin Foil: An oldie but goodie - always fun to play tin men - but sucks when you need tin foil and discover that you have none.
Guessing Game: Another oldie but goodie: Close your eyes and guess what it is.
That is what I could recall in 30 Minutes on the Machine.
$1 Million Dollars
This is from yesterday. Kids are on holiday from school so didn't have time to post. Here it is.
It's always fun to think about what to do with $1 million? So the topic of the day:
What would I do with $1million
There are a few small rules regarding spending the money. These are things that are entirely too obvious and take the fun out of spending the money...
1) You cannot use it to pay off debts (unless a big guy named Vinny is going to show up and break you knee caps if you don't pay up). Anyways, by the time I got finished paying off our mortgage, the cars, the cards, and my parents' debts....there would only be enough left to by a pack of gum...maybe.
2) You can't invest the money.
3) You can't donate to charity
4) You cannot use the money for small home improvements/general repairs
Ready...Set...Go!
It's always fun to think about what to do with $1 million? So the topic of the day:
What would I do with $1million
There are a few small rules regarding spending the money. These are things that are entirely too obvious and take the fun out of spending the money...
1) You cannot use it to pay off debts (unless a big guy named Vinny is going to show up and break you knee caps if you don't pay up). Anyways, by the time I got finished paying off our mortgage, the cars, the cards, and my parents' debts....there would only be enough left to by a pack of gum...maybe.
2) You can't invest the money.
3) You can't donate to charity
4) You cannot use the money for small home improvements/general repairs
Ready...Set...Go!
- Get myself a horse that will carry me to the jumps, whoa on a dime, and is sweet and brave - a little bit fancy but not outrageous and impractical
- Buy my dream house - or something closer to it. A charming house, set deep in the country, down a quiet lane...no fake, uptight, nosey neighbors
- Or expand my exisiting home with a MUDROOM!! huge gourmet kitchen, top of the line appliances, great room, office space, guest suite
- Put in an in-ground pool for the kids
- Have Dan quite his job and do something he really wants to do - I'm not sure what that is - he's talked about a few different things when I've asked him thsi question...Irish Pub, gym, become a rock star
- Get Dan a cool car - a sporty stick shift (I love watching a guy drive a stick - major turn-on) that we can drive away from "life" in.
- Buy beachfront property someplace where the land is still cheap and that I think may become a hot vacation spot some day - then sell it off when the market gets good (I have a good sense for real eastate)
- Get Lasik eye surgery
- Get Lyposuction
- Hire a housekeeper
- Invest in some sort of horsie business with Lowell - maybe buy that big white estate across the way and build a stable and indoor ring and a couple outdoor rings. I'm thinking Summer Riding Camp...something that she can earn a year's worth of living during the summer months and relax about all the other stuff she works on (teaching, breeding, judging....) and something that I can have a hand and earn good money but have enough flexibility to work on the other things that I like to do.
- Go on a major shopping spree!!
- Designate a certain sum of money and gamble!...but I'm not really sure I would do this because I don't know how to gamble and have a feeling I would be terrible at it.
Wow - this is a really boring list! I knew I was a very practical person - but this is pathetic...I don't know how to let loose and live a little - I don't deserve a million dollars.
But...this is what I came up with in 30 Minutes on the Machine.
Sunday, April 16, 2006
Softness All Around
I took a long, indulgent bath yesterday.
I really love taking baths.
They make me feel super feminine and really, really, relaxed.
It was a perfectly luxurious bath. The house was still and quiet - Dan had taken the boys to the park. Sunlight filtered in through delicate lace curtains, casting a heavenly glow about the room. Spring chirped sweetly outside - pleasantly, peacefully communing with me.
Pure decadence.
As I was drying off, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I was pleased by what I saw. Through the mist I could see softness all around.
My hair hung long and black, wetly clinging to my back - smooth, shiny, lush...and then skin...
lots and lots of skin - smooth, soft, dewey...golden tones radiating softness and warmth.
I turned to see a different view - more softness all around.
Smooth skin stretched seductively across a softly rounded belly. Soft skin floated over a teacup navel and rose up to greet soft, well-shaped breasts while gently melting down into the soft, secret place below.
I marveled at the sensuous curve of my hips leading down long, tapering legs - lean, muscular, tan-ness sinking sweetly into the soft arch of a delicate foot.
Reaching across the sink, I cleared the mirror and beheld a most girlish vision. My face looked soft and pretty - cheeks flushed youthfully, eyes danced flirtatiously, mouth waited eagerly, full and kissable...
Now where did I put my glasses?
I really love taking baths.
They make me feel super feminine and really, really, relaxed.
It was a perfectly luxurious bath. The house was still and quiet - Dan had taken the boys to the park. Sunlight filtered in through delicate lace curtains, casting a heavenly glow about the room. Spring chirped sweetly outside - pleasantly, peacefully communing with me.
Pure decadence.
As I was drying off, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I was pleased by what I saw. Through the mist I could see softness all around.
My hair hung long and black, wetly clinging to my back - smooth, shiny, lush...and then skin...
lots and lots of skin - smooth, soft, dewey...golden tones radiating softness and warmth.
I turned to see a different view - more softness all around.
Smooth skin stretched seductively across a softly rounded belly. Soft skin floated over a teacup navel and rose up to greet soft, well-shaped breasts while gently melting down into the soft, secret place below.
I marveled at the sensuous curve of my hips leading down long, tapering legs - lean, muscular, tan-ness sinking sweetly into the soft arch of a delicate foot.
Reaching across the sink, I cleared the mirror and beheld a most girlish vision. My face looked soft and pretty - cheeks flushed youthfully, eyes danced flirtatiously, mouth waited eagerly, full and kissable...
Now where did I put my glasses?
Thursday, April 13, 2006
Neverending Story
I have a new friend.
She came into my life unexpectedly. A friend introduced me to her.
I immediatly liked her for her name. It spoke of cleverness and humour. It told me that she takes what she does seriously but she doesn't take it all or herself too seriously.
I think I am right about this.
She always has something smart to say. Mostly she talks about politics and current events. Sometimes she just throws something silly out there - But she is always original and witty and funny as hell. I was immediatly drawn to her sharp wit and smooth sarcasm. I enjoyed the deftness with which she spins serious subjects around so that all the facts can be seen and the nimble way she exposes the absurdity of it. I wish I could think like that.
She has a really cool mind. But what I really admire about her is her confidence. She expresses viewpoints that may be less than politically correct and she always expresses them with honesty and frankness. This is not how she demonstrates her confidence though. True self-confidence is when one does not demand, expect or ask you to take on a viewpoint. She encourages you to possess your own viewpoint and respects you for whatever it may be. No. She is not egotistical or cocky. She is self-assured.
It is easy to see that she is smart, clever, witty...confident and forthright. But some might mistake her as a cynic - full of sharp sarcasm and unorthodox ways. These are things she is not.
She is every person and she is her own. She is a loving, giving, sensible caregiver. She is a humorous, creative playmate. She is a loyal, trustworthy, reliable neighbor. She is a forthright, true and dignified citizen.
She is a person I want to be my friend.
So, I was very pleased and flattered when she embraced my friendship. This pleases me more than I care to admit. Actually, it really embaresses me...that I wants so much for her to like me. I guess the thing is my father always said, "You are who your friends are" and I do believe this is true. So I guess it makes me feel good and proud to be her friend because that must mean that I'm somewhere in the league of her likes.
Anyways. I'm having lots of fun getting to know her - finding commonalities, discovering differences, learning new things that I didn't know before. But sometimes I can't keep up with her. She's so smart. Then I feel insecure and stupid and frivolous. She knows a lot about everything - politics, current events, pop-culture. These are all things that my mind does not absorb. I find politics frustrating, current events scary and...well, pop culture I can do, but I have no retention of names, dates, titles. The only thing I know is what I feel and observe in everyday life. I worry that at some point she will feel restless and bored by me - perhaps disappointed that I can't keep up with her brilliant mind. But worse than that, I'm afraid she catches on to me. I'm afraid she discovers that I have nothing going on inside...that I am just a ditz and a mush...that I really am a lame little stay-at-home, suburban, cookie-cutter housewife.
I have a feeling that if we had not met in this way we would not have become friends. I have a feeling she would have looked at me and seen me for another cliche homemaker/mommy. And, to be honest, I probably would have looked at her and thought she was a little too cool and unorthodox for me. But today we are on the same page in the first chapter of what will hopefully turn out to be a neverending story.
She came into my life unexpectedly. A friend introduced me to her.
I immediatly liked her for her name. It spoke of cleverness and humour. It told me that she takes what she does seriously but she doesn't take it all or herself too seriously.
I think I am right about this.
She always has something smart to say. Mostly she talks about politics and current events. Sometimes she just throws something silly out there - But she is always original and witty and funny as hell. I was immediatly drawn to her sharp wit and smooth sarcasm. I enjoyed the deftness with which she spins serious subjects around so that all the facts can be seen and the nimble way she exposes the absurdity of it. I wish I could think like that.
She has a really cool mind. But what I really admire about her is her confidence. She expresses viewpoints that may be less than politically correct and she always expresses them with honesty and frankness. This is not how she demonstrates her confidence though. True self-confidence is when one does not demand, expect or ask you to take on a viewpoint. She encourages you to possess your own viewpoint and respects you for whatever it may be. No. She is not egotistical or cocky. She is self-assured.
It is easy to see that she is smart, clever, witty...confident and forthright. But some might mistake her as a cynic - full of sharp sarcasm and unorthodox ways. These are things she is not.
She is every person and she is her own. She is a loving, giving, sensible caregiver. She is a humorous, creative playmate. She is a loyal, trustworthy, reliable neighbor. She is a forthright, true and dignified citizen.
She is a person I want to be my friend.
So, I was very pleased and flattered when she embraced my friendship. This pleases me more than I care to admit. Actually, it really embaresses me...that I wants so much for her to like me. I guess the thing is my father always said, "You are who your friends are" and I do believe this is true. So I guess it makes me feel good and proud to be her friend because that must mean that I'm somewhere in the league of her likes.
Anyways. I'm having lots of fun getting to know her - finding commonalities, discovering differences, learning new things that I didn't know before. But sometimes I can't keep up with her. She's so smart. Then I feel insecure and stupid and frivolous. She knows a lot about everything - politics, current events, pop-culture. These are all things that my mind does not absorb. I find politics frustrating, current events scary and...well, pop culture I can do, but I have no retention of names, dates, titles. The only thing I know is what I feel and observe in everyday life. I worry that at some point she will feel restless and bored by me - perhaps disappointed that I can't keep up with her brilliant mind. But worse than that, I'm afraid she catches on to me. I'm afraid she discovers that I have nothing going on inside...that I am just a ditz and a mush...that I really am a lame little stay-at-home, suburban, cookie-cutter housewife.
I have a feeling that if we had not met in this way we would not have become friends. I have a feeling she would have looked at me and seen me for another cliche homemaker/mommy. And, to be honest, I probably would have looked at her and thought she was a little too cool and unorthodox for me. But today we are on the same page in the first chapter of what will hopefully turn out to be a neverending story.
Things to Do with a Vacuum Cleaner
Sorry I didn't generate a list yesterday. I spend the time on the elliptical making notes for a book idea I have.
After my last, depressing list, I decided to lighten things up a bit.
The topic of the day...drum roll please.....
Things to do with a Vacuum Cleaner
That's what I came up with in 30 Minutes on the Machine...not very impressive, is it?
After my last, depressing list, I decided to lighten things up a bit.
The topic of the day...drum roll please.....
Things to do with a Vacuum Cleaner
- Suck up crumbs: Obvious
- Bring the hamster out of hiding: We found a few days after we lost him. My mother actually swookped down and caught him. This was really surprising because my mother is dainty, little Korean lady. I don't ever remember her touching a worm or spider or anything remotely crawly. But I guess when the grandkids are involved she will do just about anything to please them. Thanks mommy. But Loco escaped again. This time, it was the vacuum cleaner that brought him out of hiding. I was vacuuming and when I got close to his hiding spot he scurried out. Thank Gawd I didn't suck him up!
- Terrorize the dog: Blake is not the stand up and defend yourself type. He is the run away with tail between his legs type. But it's still good for a laugh. Shut up! I know you've done it before too!
- Excercise the Children: On a dreary rainy day they can get kind of lazy. If I tell them I'm going to suck up their toes, they get up and run around like crazy. Shut up! I know you've all done this one too!
- Get the children to pick up their toys: Threatening to suck up their toys really gets them moving...but today Alex said he will just slice open the vacauum cleaner and retrieve his toys. Damn!
- Suck up Cheerios
- Occupy the baby: So I can play the computer
- Stop Cholic: Alex was horribly cholicky as a newborn. So out of desperation we finally decided to try this vacuum cleaner trick that we heard about. It worked! We left the vacuum cleaner running for hours on end for 4 months - we actually burned a hole in the carpet once...but it was soooooo worth it!
- Suck up ice cream sprinkles
- Enjoy the vibe: I have never actually tried this but it makes a nice vibration that I imagine might be nice if desperate times should arise
- Coat Rack
- Will cover for you: When you haven't been productive take it out of storage and leave it in the living room so it looks like you did some cleaning
- Will defend you: Always leave it out so when people drop in unexpectedly and your house is a mess they will see the vacuum cleaner and assume that you do clean your house sometimes
- Excercise: I don't care what the doctor says, I work a good sweat vacuuming
- Suck up spiders: I hate the tckick sound it makes when you squich them
That's what I came up with in 30 Minutes on the Machine...not very impressive, is it?
Under The Cloak of Night
My dreams intrigue me. They employ all my senses with heightened intensity - visual details, textures, tastes, smells, feelings - all stand out in a way they do not while awake. I think they reveal a lot of things...so I pay attention. I like to write them down...so Believe it or Not...I have created yet another blog. It is called Under The Cloak of Night.
Take a peak inside my twisted mind...
Take a peak inside my twisted mind...
Wednesday, April 12, 2006
Delicious Dream
I just got up from my afternoon nap. I had the most delicious dream. So delicious that when Colin cried out to let me know he was awake, I kept my eyes closed as I gathered him up and brought him downstairs to watch tv with his brothers so I could return to hopefully finish my dream - or at least lie around and think about it some more.
It took place at some seaside resort. It's summer time. For some reason the plane cannot land in the resort (which is a weird place to land anyways) and they have to land on the water. I can see th resort off in thedistance about 10 miles. There is an island (more like a dock) we are motoring around, I can feel the heaviness of the plane as it wakes the water around it and the island. The plane/now a boat (like the kind you take pleasure trips down the canal on vacations - sightseeing type boat), has stopped and everyone is getting off. I am vacationing alone. People didn't know we were making a water landing. They look out the window and see the resort across the water and are incredulous that they landed here and that they will have to somehow get across the water to the resort. The pilots and resort crew are here and telling people there are little boats that will take them to across the way. Now everyone is excited and happy. There is a cute young guy who is giving me attention. He has dark, short hair that is a little longish and curls at the ends. He is tall and lean - Abercrombie/Jcrew looking. He is directing people where to go and he puts his hand on my lower back. I feel that delicious, warm liquidy feeling of arousal and I feel giddy knowing that he purposeely put his hand on my back. He is now demonstrating how to use a machine and he knows I am watching now. I am extemely turned on by his knowledge and assuredness and by the confidence he instills in the people around him. I enjoy watching him do his thing. And I can't wait to get near him again. Another guy - handsome, older, more like my age, late 30s or early 40s, also works there, tall, taller than the brunette, lean, he has sandy hair a little receading but not badly, longish face, strong jaw, strong eyes, hazel, a little rugged looking but his eyes speak intelligence. He checks me out and approves but seems to know there is something between the Abercrombie guy and myself. So he says to the boy why don't you show her how to use it - meaning give her a personal tutorial. When the brunette stands up to make room for me he is suddenly very geeky - plaid shirt, hair slicked sideways,clutching a book to his chest, glasses, kind of scrawny and meek and unsure of himself now. I become disinterested and I turn my attention back to the older guy. His name is Tim. He didn't tell me that - I just know it. He gives me a lesson. I sit in this thing - that is sort of like a boat sitting in a well of water - between his legs. I feel the heat of his body against my back and his strong legs and arms wrapped around me. My long delicate hands are engulfed by his large, masculine hands as they guiding mine on the steering wheel. His face is in my neck as he gives me instructions - gently, assuredly - he has a nice voice - masculine, not too deep, comforting. I can feel his warm breath on my ear. He smells good...no particular smell that I can pinpoint - just smells good. I guess warm and masculine. I want to put my face in his neck. I am savouring this delicious feeling of awareness. He shows me how to move the boat and I can feel the water waking with the craft. I am excited and exhilerated by the action and by his control and mastery over the craft. We are making the boat take large wide swooping turns that force out bodies against each other. He puts and arm around my middle as if to support me (but I know it's just an excuse to hold me. I don't want the ride to end. But someone is telling us it's time to get going. Now we are heading to where the little boats are that are going to take us to the resort. They are yellow, blow-up things. I'm thinking Tim and I are going to ride in one together - again with him at my back and controlling the craft. I am excited and eager for the ride. But it turns out that the vehicles are only single seaters. When I go to jump into one, the young guy, now not geeky anymore - back to his Abercrombie look and shirtless, jumps in. He wants me to jump in with him. But I tell him there's no space so he looks at the boat next to him as if to say get in that one but just then someone else jumps in. So I look for another boat. They are all almost take now. I hurry down the dock and there are a couple left. But they look different. I'm not sure if I can take these. They look like 2 seaters. I look up to see if I can see Tim to ask if I can take one of these. He is busy, looking serious, getting everyone ready and in order. He glances at me through the side of his eyes. He has that look when you are in love with someone - his eyes are smiling at me and he looks lighter. He is very aware of my presence while he is seriously talking and giving orders. I again feel that delicious liquid feeling - I just want to run up to him and put my body against mine and smell him. But I stay where I am and try to determine if I can take one of these boats. I try to get in one and it is too deflated. I decide to go back to where the other boats are. Tim is now in the vicinity. God, his authority is such a turn on. I love watching him in action and love how he is so focused but he is so aware of my presence. He tells me to wait a minute. He will take me there after everyone else. He says it in an authoritative, serious voice - you know, because he is working and he shouldn't be whooing a woman while he is working - but his hands meet my arms unneccesarily. I am excited and I love the attention. So everyone leaves and I am wandering around the place, exploring while I wait. I am inside someplace now. It is very dark and musty. It looks like an opera house. I can hear Tim's voice echoing someplace inside. He is talking to some people but again, I know he is very aware of my presence and trying to be professional but he really just wants to ditch those people and come to me. I'm exploring. It is dusty and dank and cool in here. Finally he comes to fetch me. We flirt. I see a piano and want to impress him. So I open one up and start to play the Fantasia-Impromptu by Chopin - the piano is very out of tune and mute sounding. I forget how it goes after the 2nd line. I'm embaressed. so I say the piano is bad and move on to another piano thinking if I start again and not think about it the notes will come. This time I can remember how it goes but the piano keys fling off - it is badly broken. So I laugh and give up but notice there is another piano with a light and some music on it. I can play just about anything with music so I try to play. The notes are very high, lots of chords and I would have to figure out where to start...but I just attack the piece and hope I can get the jist of it without looking foolish. Somehow, miraculously my fingers find the right notes. Tim puts his arms around mine as if to play along with me - but I know he can't play. I can feel his face in my neck - delicious feeling again. He closes his eyes a moment as he inhales my scent. But the then the piano is again in need of repair so I give up. We are laughing and talking intimately. I am enjoying his presence. Then a black guy in a tuxedo comes in - top hat and all - looks like he's going to give a concert - he has a giant white smile and jolly eyes and deep throaty, benny goodman voice. He says something to me, I say the pianos are all broken. I expect him to start playig something jazzy but when ee sits down at the piano with the light and starts playing I recognize it. It is a Chopin piece...a very simple prelude. He doesn't know I play too. He says isn't it beautiful - then he says the name of the piece - I say, yes it's a chopin piece that I played as a child. He says no its ---- the name of the piece - I say, yes, that's the name of the piece but the composer is chopin...and continues along like he is a concert pianist - and I am annoyed because he thinks I can't play - so I find a piano and want to play the Fantasia so he can see how I play - but there is only a giant organ with broken keys. So I say who cares and turn to Tim and we begin to walk out to go to the resort. I know he is staying there too.
This is when Colin wakes me up.
It took place at some seaside resort. It's summer time. For some reason the plane cannot land in the resort (which is a weird place to land anyways) and they have to land on the water. I can see th resort off in thedistance about 10 miles. There is an island (more like a dock) we are motoring around, I can feel the heaviness of the plane as it wakes the water around it and the island. The plane/now a boat (like the kind you take pleasure trips down the canal on vacations - sightseeing type boat), has stopped and everyone is getting off. I am vacationing alone. People didn't know we were making a water landing. They look out the window and see the resort across the water and are incredulous that they landed here and that they will have to somehow get across the water to the resort. The pilots and resort crew are here and telling people there are little boats that will take them to across the way. Now everyone is excited and happy. There is a cute young guy who is giving me attention. He has dark, short hair that is a little longish and curls at the ends. He is tall and lean - Abercrombie/Jcrew looking. He is directing people where to go and he puts his hand on my lower back. I feel that delicious, warm liquidy feeling of arousal and I feel giddy knowing that he purposeely put his hand on my back. He is now demonstrating how to use a machine and he knows I am watching now. I am extemely turned on by his knowledge and assuredness and by the confidence he instills in the people around him. I enjoy watching him do his thing. And I can't wait to get near him again. Another guy - handsome, older, more like my age, late 30s or early 40s, also works there, tall, taller than the brunette, lean, he has sandy hair a little receading but not badly, longish face, strong jaw, strong eyes, hazel, a little rugged looking but his eyes speak intelligence. He checks me out and approves but seems to know there is something between the Abercrombie guy and myself. So he says to the boy why don't you show her how to use it - meaning give her a personal tutorial. When the brunette stands up to make room for me he is suddenly very geeky - plaid shirt, hair slicked sideways,clutching a book to his chest, glasses, kind of scrawny and meek and unsure of himself now. I become disinterested and I turn my attention back to the older guy. His name is Tim. He didn't tell me that - I just know it. He gives me a lesson. I sit in this thing - that is sort of like a boat sitting in a well of water - between his legs. I feel the heat of his body against my back and his strong legs and arms wrapped around me. My long delicate hands are engulfed by his large, masculine hands as they guiding mine on the steering wheel. His face is in my neck as he gives me instructions - gently, assuredly - he has a nice voice - masculine, not too deep, comforting. I can feel his warm breath on my ear. He smells good...no particular smell that I can pinpoint - just smells good. I guess warm and masculine. I want to put my face in his neck. I am savouring this delicious feeling of awareness. He shows me how to move the boat and I can feel the water waking with the craft. I am excited and exhilerated by the action and by his control and mastery over the craft. We are making the boat take large wide swooping turns that force out bodies against each other. He puts and arm around my middle as if to support me (but I know it's just an excuse to hold me. I don't want the ride to end. But someone is telling us it's time to get going. Now we are heading to where the little boats are that are going to take us to the resort. They are yellow, blow-up things. I'm thinking Tim and I are going to ride in one together - again with him at my back and controlling the craft. I am excited and eager for the ride. But it turns out that the vehicles are only single seaters. When I go to jump into one, the young guy, now not geeky anymore - back to his Abercrombie look and shirtless, jumps in. He wants me to jump in with him. But I tell him there's no space so he looks at the boat next to him as if to say get in that one but just then someone else jumps in. So I look for another boat. They are all almost take now. I hurry down the dock and there are a couple left. But they look different. I'm not sure if I can take these. They look like 2 seaters. I look up to see if I can see Tim to ask if I can take one of these. He is busy, looking serious, getting everyone ready and in order. He glances at me through the side of his eyes. He has that look when you are in love with someone - his eyes are smiling at me and he looks lighter. He is very aware of my presence while he is seriously talking and giving orders. I again feel that delicious liquid feeling - I just want to run up to him and put my body against mine and smell him. But I stay where I am and try to determine if I can take one of these boats. I try to get in one and it is too deflated. I decide to go back to where the other boats are. Tim is now in the vicinity. God, his authority is such a turn on. I love watching him in action and love how he is so focused but he is so aware of my presence. He tells me to wait a minute. He will take me there after everyone else. He says it in an authoritative, serious voice - you know, because he is working and he shouldn't be whooing a woman while he is working - but his hands meet my arms unneccesarily. I am excited and I love the attention. So everyone leaves and I am wandering around the place, exploring while I wait. I am inside someplace now. It is very dark and musty. It looks like an opera house. I can hear Tim's voice echoing someplace inside. He is talking to some people but again, I know he is very aware of my presence and trying to be professional but he really just wants to ditch those people and come to me. I'm exploring. It is dusty and dank and cool in here. Finally he comes to fetch me. We flirt. I see a piano and want to impress him. So I open one up and start to play the Fantasia-Impromptu by Chopin - the piano is very out of tune and mute sounding. I forget how it goes after the 2nd line. I'm embaressed. so I say the piano is bad and move on to another piano thinking if I start again and not think about it the notes will come. This time I can remember how it goes but the piano keys fling off - it is badly broken. So I laugh and give up but notice there is another piano with a light and some music on it. I can play just about anything with music so I try to play. The notes are very high, lots of chords and I would have to figure out where to start...but I just attack the piece and hope I can get the jist of it without looking foolish. Somehow, miraculously my fingers find the right notes. Tim puts his arms around mine as if to play along with me - but I know he can't play. I can feel his face in my neck - delicious feeling again. He closes his eyes a moment as he inhales my scent. But the then the piano is again in need of repair so I give up. We are laughing and talking intimately. I am enjoying his presence. Then a black guy in a tuxedo comes in - top hat and all - looks like he's going to give a concert - he has a giant white smile and jolly eyes and deep throaty, benny goodman voice. He says something to me, I say the pianos are all broken. I expect him to start playig something jazzy but when ee sits down at the piano with the light and starts playing I recognize it. It is a Chopin piece...a very simple prelude. He doesn't know I play too. He says isn't it beautiful - then he says the name of the piece - I say, yes it's a chopin piece that I played as a child. He says no its ---- the name of the piece - I say, yes, that's the name of the piece but the composer is chopin...and continues along like he is a concert pianist - and I am annoyed because he thinks I can't play - so I find a piano and want to play the Fantasia so he can see how I play - but there is only a giant organ with broken keys. So I say who cares and turn to Tim and we begin to walk out to go to the resort. I know he is staying there too.
This is when Colin wakes me up.
Path to Salvation
It is a perfectly gorgeous day today. The perfect day for taking a nice long walk.
The Jehovas Witnesses thought the same thing. They stopped by my home again this morning. They show up at my door every few months. And no matter what I've tried to deter their return, they always come back.
I've tried telling them that I have my own religion that I practice regularly (actually I don't go to church very often - by my husband is practically a priest so I figure I can be religious by osmosis, just as I am Irish by association). But they don't seem to care. They still push their literature on me and tell me they will come back to discuss it...and they always do.
I've tried telling them that I was very busy with the kids at the moment. They say they will come back a little later - and they do...and it's usually during our sacred nap time.
I've tried patiently listening to their schpiel and accepting their literature, thinking if I just cooperate then it will be over more quickly. But - You give them an inch and they take a mile...and then some. They talk forever and say they will come back after I've had time to read the literature...and they do.
Today, I said I didn't actually live here. I told them I was the nanny. I thought they would go away and say they would come back...at which time I could hide or come to the door naked. But they handed me the literature and wanted to talk. Then Colin came up from behind me saying, "Mommy mommy mommy". I laughed and said, "I'm here so much he thinks I'm his mother". After a few minutes of trying to convince them that I was religious and righteous, Brandon came up from the playroom and said, "Mommy, can I have a cookie". Now I was really embarressed because Brandon in almost 5 years old so it is clear that he knows who I am. The two ladies looked at me scournfully and nudged past me to introduce themselves to my children. This really pissed me off. How dare they enter my home and address my children. They asked the boys if they knew who God was. Brandon said, "He lives in heavan and is all around." Colin looked at me and put his finger in his mouth (it would have been really cool if he put his middle finger in his mouth but it was the pointer). I looked at the ladies and said, "See, we do have religion. Now if you will excuse me I have things to do" and I shuffled them out the door. As they backed down my stairs they made a last ditch effort at showing me the path to salvation. I put up my hand and said. "Listen, I really don't want to be rude, but I don't appreciate these visits. As I stated, we have our own religion and would like to be left alone to practice it. Please do not come back to my home."
But I am sure that they will come back - especially now that they know I am a sinning liar.
Peace be with you.
The Jehovas Witnesses thought the same thing. They stopped by my home again this morning. They show up at my door every few months. And no matter what I've tried to deter their return, they always come back.
I've tried telling them that I have my own religion that I practice regularly (actually I don't go to church very often - by my husband is practically a priest so I figure I can be religious by osmosis, just as I am Irish by association). But they don't seem to care. They still push their literature on me and tell me they will come back to discuss it...and they always do.
I've tried telling them that I was very busy with the kids at the moment. They say they will come back a little later - and they do...and it's usually during our sacred nap time.
I've tried patiently listening to their schpiel and accepting their literature, thinking if I just cooperate then it will be over more quickly. But - You give them an inch and they take a mile...and then some. They talk forever and say they will come back after I've had time to read the literature...and they do.
Today, I said I didn't actually live here. I told them I was the nanny. I thought they would go away and say they would come back...at which time I could hide or come to the door naked. But they handed me the literature and wanted to talk. Then Colin came up from behind me saying, "Mommy mommy mommy". I laughed and said, "I'm here so much he thinks I'm his mother". After a few minutes of trying to convince them that I was religious and righteous, Brandon came up from the playroom and said, "Mommy, can I have a cookie". Now I was really embarressed because Brandon in almost 5 years old so it is clear that he knows who I am. The two ladies looked at me scournfully and nudged past me to introduce themselves to my children. This really pissed me off. How dare they enter my home and address my children. They asked the boys if they knew who God was. Brandon said, "He lives in heavan and is all around." Colin looked at me and put his finger in his mouth (it would have been really cool if he put his middle finger in his mouth but it was the pointer). I looked at the ladies and said, "See, we do have religion. Now if you will excuse me I have things to do" and I shuffled them out the door. As they backed down my stairs they made a last ditch effort at showing me the path to salvation. I put up my hand and said. "Listen, I really don't want to be rude, but I don't appreciate these visits. As I stated, we have our own religion and would like to be left alone to practice it. Please do not come back to my home."
But I am sure that they will come back - especially now that they know I am a sinning liar.
Peace be with you.
The Modeling Contest
We were in college. We were settling in, like we just got back from break. I was asking what time they were going to eat dinner. A couple of girls were ther but I mostly recall Krissy Frederickson was there (childhood best friend - she was prety and very smart but financially struggling as her mom was a divorcee, her dad was a truck driver and her mom, who she lived with was a baker at Market Basket, the local supermarket). She said she was going to eat around 4:00. I said, 4:00?! Isn't that kind of early? She said she was going to practice piano. I was shocked that she had started piano lessons and I thought well, maybe I can eat a little early but decided that was just too early so I wanted to know when she would finish practicing because I wanted to practice as well and thought maybe I can practice after she ate and practiced and I would eat with the other girls after I practiced. I said well, how long are you going to practice? She said, well, how long do you practice - your an advanced player too, right? I was totally insulted...that she thought she could possibly play anywhere near as well as I do after a few lessons. I said irritably, no...you are a novice...I am practically a professional. She said something in rebuttal. I said, why don't you show me what you are practicing and then I can see how long you need to practice. So we and a couple other girls (I don't remember who) walked down the corridors (they looked like the hallways at Wellesley college and the dining hall looked like the dining hall at Wellesley). My intention was that when I saw the music I was going to sit down and play it without ever having seen it before (because I am an excellent sight reader) and then she would get my point. We were walking through the courtyard and suddenly I was in a large group. We were being assessed for a contest. It was a modeling contest at some place in the country. Off in the distance there were, probably like 25 other people, mostly girls - all beautiful...they were all in a single file line. They were going to ride through the country on these really cool motocycles. I said to the guy doing the assessments, those are realy cool bikes. He said yeah, those people are the ones that have already made the first cut. The riders got on the bikes and roared off into the country, single file. The first 5 or 6 motorcycles were absolutly awesome, shiny, sleek, brightly colored, designs...I specifically remember one that was cobalt blue with orange, red, yellow and black flames, chrome...but as the progression went along the bikes became more bland and the last few bikes were no longer bikes but old fashioned, but well-kept, grey cars. I said to the guy that looks like a lot of fun...I'd love to do that. He said I'd have to make the cut. Now my attention turns to all the people trying to make the cut, standing around being fussed with. But the people that were standing with me weren't all that. But in my dream they were supposed to be. A blond guy came over to me complaining that they might not let him compete. I said, they don't think your good looking enough? He said, God no! I am the most gorgeous guy here (but actually he wasn't very good looking at all - a little small, thin but a little flabby and his complexion was quite course) it's because of my speech impediment (he called it something but I don't remember now - it was sort of a lisp) He said, see those 3 over there? They are having their eyes tested. I said, with surprise, if your eyes aren't good you can't compete? He said, well, no but you have to wear your contacts and you can't wear glasses because you need to be able to see where you're going so you don't knock into the camera. Then someone came up to me to test my eyes. I nedd glasses or contacts to see but I passed. Off in the distance the bikers were heading back in our direction but in the distance and still riding off - but now they were on horses, all in a straight line, galloping through the woods. I exclaimed, Oh! Their riding!! I was so excited to see that I would have the opportunity to ride (and show off my skills) if I made the cut. The riders I could see were inexperienced and I wondered how they could be galloping up and down hills and through trees without falling off and still staying in a straight line. I decided the horses must just be trained to stay in a straight line and that they must be riding in western saddles and hanging on to the horn for dear life. When I figured out they were riding western I was very disappointed because I hate western saddles and have a hard time cantering and trotting in them. I decided I would see if I could use my own saddle. Now my attention turns back to my own group where the contestants are still being chosen for different looks. One girl comes out, in an outrage wanting to speek with the manager. She asks if they really want to shave her hair. She says this guy said she was supposed to shave her head. He says yes (she is not that pretty. her hair is bleached blond with dark roots and it is very dry and scraggily looking. her nose if thinnish and slightly hooked and her eyes are dark brown, not particularly interesting in any way. she has a thin small, red lips and soft rounded cheekbones. She is a bit pale. she's not ugly - just not pretty) She looks over behind her shoulder where the manager is pointing - we all look over there. There is a guy in a chair (it looked like the chair that Christopher Reeves rode) and he was having his head shaved - the guy shaving it looked like a dentist. I was still talking to the manager and the blond guy with the speech impediment. I said, I couldn't do that...I don't think I would do that. I love my hair. They both looked at my in surprise. Then I got sacared that I was going to get cut for being conceited and vane about my hair. The blond girl began crying and conceded to the shave. She gave one of her friends a hug (as if she was not coming back from this) and they had a weepy parting. Another girl got chosen for her punky features and came back dressed in street punk clothes with spiked up hair and punky looking make-up. Now most everyone had been selected for their looks but I still had not. The manager was working with me but he couldn't quite decide what my look was. I looked off in the distance at the models. They were returning from their hack. They were all lined up now, in a single row. The horses were gone. Some people were being cut from the group. One girl in prticular I remember was cut because she was terrible at the riding. She was smallish, long dark brown hair, large, almondy eyes. Very cute but fragile. She cried and gave several people hugs as she was leaving. My attention now returns to my group that is now all in a straight line. We are lined up along the bank of a river where we are having our photos taken as part of the contest (a modeling session). I see three people at the front being fussed with. One girl, an indian girl (like the Hindu kind of indian, not american indian) and she was dressed in an evening gown - it was a pale, silvery violety-blue tafetta, A-line skit, bustier top, off shoulder. She looked like she was going to the prom - and she was wearing a small tiara and her hair was held up in an elegant twist. She was very pretty but the dress was just too much. The manager said she was beautiful but needed to change her look, tone it down. Then there was the girl in the leapard look. I thought, oh, I could look good in that with my long hair. Then I thought, what is my look. I still didn't know. I looked around noticing other people's looks but now don't recall exactly what they were. I remember the indian girl came back and had kept the top of her gown but was now wearing a slim knee length skirt, beige. Her hair was now down and it was long and black and full bodied - really gorgeous. I felt threatened by her hair...but then I looked at her outfit and thought she looked quite plain...but dignified...but she was really beautiful so maybe the outfit didn't matter. Now I remember them calling me finally to give me my look. But it turns out that I already had my look...but I still haven't seen myslef and my look. I get called over to the bank where I look down and see all these little lizards all over the place. They looked like iguanas but not as large, they could fit in your hand, most of them. I am grossed out by them and try not to step on them. There is a guy that has also been called over to do the shoot with me. He is wearing a black vest, has dark hair but I can't remeber his face. I find out they chose me for this shoot because of my hair. I am relieved that my asset worked out to my advantage and feel proud. They ask us to kneel down and stretch out our arm in such a manner that they can see our tattoos (I don't actually have a tattoo). The tats were sepants that were going up from our forearm to upper arm. I am trying to kneel without putting my knees down and stretch out my arms and lay my hair in an attractive way without touching or squishing the lizards . One rather large lizard is really in my way so I pick it up and flick it into the water at which point I now notice that the lizards don't have legs. The lizard that I just threw into the water is furious and his neck flails and he is glaring at me from the water...and all the smaller lizards around me also have their necks flared. I look up alarmed and ask are these cobras? They said, no they are ____? (I don't remember what they called it but basically yes, they are in the family of the cobra but smaller and rounder). I ask, are they venoumous. Yes. Extremely. I am scared but trying to hold it together for the photo shoot. I don't want to get cut. This is my big opportunity. The snake hurles itself out of the water at me and lands on my arm (where there is no tattoo but the snake is on my arm in a squiggley shape, like the tattoo on the other guy's arm). The photographer is so excited. He says, hold your arm out, hold that position. I am trying to look good for the camera but I am terrified this thing is going to bite me and I'm going to be poisened. This is when I woke up.
Tuesday, April 11, 2006
Terrible Thoughts
Last night I watched the movie, Cinderella Man. The movie takes place during the depression era. In the movie the main character is struggling to support his starving family. That aspect of the movie really struck a nerve with me.
My family lives a very comfortable life. Although I try to teach my children to be thankful for their priviledged life, I'm sure they take it for granted. But I don't. The thought is always lurking in my mind that something could happen and all this would disappear. Life would become very difficult and there would be a lot of real sadness. The thought of seeing my children hungry or cold is almost unbearable. But I suppose it's a thought that should be dealt with so that if something should happen we are better prepared. So, thinking about this also stirred up other scary thoughts I've had which were brought on by things that I've seen or read about - Schindler's List, The Pianist, Joy Luck Club...3 that jump to mind.
So, being in this morbid frame of mind, the topic of the day was Terrible Thoughts That Have Entered My Mind. I really wish I didn't start this list because it has put a giant knot in my stomach and fear in my heart.
But. Here is what I came up with in 30 Minutes on the Machine:
Terrible Thoughts that have Entered my Mind
Children:
If there is a terrible war or natural disaster and I had to escape with the children (without Dan's help and without a car) how would I manage to get away. One plan I devised included strapping a child on my back and putting the other two in the jogger. But now Colin is too big to carry for very long and Alex and Brand are so heavy that pushing them both at the same time is a challenge. Time to think of a new plan.
If something happened that I could only save one child, who would it be. Probably whoever is closest to me.
What would the kids do if I suddenly collapsed, unconscious when noone else was around. I need to make sure they know how to dial 911.
What if we suddenly lost it all and had no money - like in the depression. We'd still have each other.
Blake:
My dog is getting old and I worry that one day I will find him gone. I actually didn't wash him all winter because I was afraid it would be his last bath. He's a very clean dog (licks himself like a cat and doesn't like to muck around outside so he doesn't get stinky. But his breath can use some serious help.
What would happen if I put Blake and a cat in the same room? I think the cat would kick his butt.
Airplanes and Trains:
What if it crashes.
What if some crazy person decides to open the door.
What if there is a terrorist onboard.
Dead Animals:
How did that dead mouse in the barn die? Did one of the horses love it to death? or did they trample it after it died.
What happened after that dead beaver in the road got hit by the car...did it die instantly or did it live long enough to crawl to the side of the road.
Elevators:
What if the cable suddenly snaps.
Standing on a Ledge:
What if the ledge crumbles beneath me.
What if someone bumps into me or pushes me.
What if I just get clumsey and slip off.
Beaches:
What if one of the kids wanders away and can't find his way back and I can't find him.
What if the undertow takes one of the kids away.
Is that a shark out there?
Cooking:
What if I trip carrying a pot of boiling water.
What if my sleeve catches on fire.
What if the knife slips while chopping amd cuts of my fingers.
Illness:
What if I pass something off as a passing cold or something and it turns out to be something life threatening - like menengitis.
Riding:
What if I fall off and break my neck.
What if I fall off and my foot gets caught in the stirrup.
What if one of the horses gets really spooked on day and tramples me.
If I'm out for hack by myself and I fall and get seriously injured, how will I get home, how long will it be before anyone notices I'm missing.
Will today be the day that I meet my end in the manure pile?
Sanity:
If I'm nutz, how would I know it.
Driving:
What if the breaks fail.
What if my car gets submerged.
Accidents:
What if one of the boys trips while carrying scissors and takes out an eye.
What if one of the boys cracks his skull open on one of the border rocks.
What if one of us slips down the stairs and breaks their neck.
What if one of the boys cracks their head open on the corner of a piece of furniture while rough housing.
If I fell into a cavernous pit and my leg was wedged between two rocks, with no way out and no one to help me out - would I sit there and die or would I cut my own leg off.
That's what I came up with in 30 Minutes on the Machine. Jeesh! I have a lot of fears!! I think I need therapy...or a beer and a cigarette.
My family lives a very comfortable life. Although I try to teach my children to be thankful for their priviledged life, I'm sure they take it for granted. But I don't. The thought is always lurking in my mind that something could happen and all this would disappear. Life would become very difficult and there would be a lot of real sadness. The thought of seeing my children hungry or cold is almost unbearable. But I suppose it's a thought that should be dealt with so that if something should happen we are better prepared. So, thinking about this also stirred up other scary thoughts I've had which were brought on by things that I've seen or read about - Schindler's List, The Pianist, Joy Luck Club...3 that jump to mind.
So, being in this morbid frame of mind, the topic of the day was Terrible Thoughts That Have Entered My Mind. I really wish I didn't start this list because it has put a giant knot in my stomach and fear in my heart.
But. Here is what I came up with in 30 Minutes on the Machine:
Terrible Thoughts that have Entered my Mind
Children:
If there is a terrible war or natural disaster and I had to escape with the children (without Dan's help and without a car) how would I manage to get away. One plan I devised included strapping a child on my back and putting the other two in the jogger. But now Colin is too big to carry for very long and Alex and Brand are so heavy that pushing them both at the same time is a challenge. Time to think of a new plan.
If something happened that I could only save one child, who would it be. Probably whoever is closest to me.
If something happened that I had to choose one child to stay with me, who would that be. Can't even begin to decide this one. This scenario is a truly horrible scenario - to tell me to make a conscientious decision about which child to save and which to abandon...I saw this happen in a movie but can't remember which one...probably one of those movies about the holocast - Schindler's List??
If something happened where I needed to go into hiding, where would I hide. I have no idea...Maybe I'd crash with Lori - but she already has 4 kids so maybe that would be more chaos than salvation...Jas, you're a farm boy - we could hide out in the barn...or maybe Canada and crash with Gary. Canada's always been a safe haven and Gary is a compassionate man. Yeah...I think Canada with Gary would be the best option.What would the kids do if I suddenly collapsed, unconscious when noone else was around. I need to make sure they know how to dial 911.
What if we suddenly lost it all and had no money - like in the depression. We'd still have each other.
Blake:
My dog is getting old and I worry that one day I will find him gone. I actually didn't wash him all winter because I was afraid it would be his last bath. He's a very clean dog (licks himself like a cat and doesn't like to muck around outside so he doesn't get stinky. But his breath can use some serious help.
What would happen if I put Blake and a cat in the same room? I think the cat would kick his butt.
Airplanes and Trains:
What if it crashes.
What if some crazy person decides to open the door.
What if there is a terrorist onboard.
Dead Animals:
How did that dead mouse in the barn die? Did one of the horses love it to death? or did they trample it after it died.
What happened after that dead beaver in the road got hit by the car...did it die instantly or did it live long enough to crawl to the side of the road.
Elevators:
What if the cable suddenly snaps.
Standing on a Ledge:
What if the ledge crumbles beneath me.
What if someone bumps into me or pushes me.
What if I just get clumsey and slip off.
Beaches:
What if one of the kids wanders away and can't find his way back and I can't find him.
What if the undertow takes one of the kids away.
Is that a shark out there?
Cooking:
What if I trip carrying a pot of boiling water.
What if my sleeve catches on fire.
What if the knife slips while chopping amd cuts of my fingers.
Illness:
What if I pass something off as a passing cold or something and it turns out to be something life threatening - like menengitis.
Riding:
What if I fall off and break my neck.
What if I fall off and my foot gets caught in the stirrup.
What if one of the horses gets really spooked on day and tramples me.
If I'm out for hack by myself and I fall and get seriously injured, how will I get home, how long will it be before anyone notices I'm missing.
Will today be the day that I meet my end in the manure pile?
Sanity:
If I'm nutz, how would I know it.
Driving:
What if the breaks fail.
What if my car gets submerged.
Accidents:
What if one of the boys trips while carrying scissors and takes out an eye.
What if one of the boys cracks his skull open on one of the border rocks.
What if one of us slips down the stairs and breaks their neck.
What if one of the boys cracks their head open on the corner of a piece of furniture while rough housing.
If I fell into a cavernous pit and my leg was wedged between two rocks, with no way out and no one to help me out - would I sit there and die or would I cut my own leg off.
That's what I came up with in 30 Minutes on the Machine. Jeesh! I have a lot of fears!! I think I need therapy...or a beer and a cigarette.
Monday, April 10, 2006
Deviant but Harmless Behavior 101
I just finished my exercise. I did 32.17 minutes before I realized the time.
The topic of the day was inspired by an assignment given in a psychology class at Wellesley College. The assignment was to behave deviantly in a public place and observe the reactions. The study was an investigation into what determines deviant behavior and also how people react to deviance.
The trick of the assignment is to be completely normal in appearance except for one, slightly off-color behavior - so you have to pick something that cannot be construed as psychotic or dangerous, just slightly-off color.
Here goes:
Deviant but Harmless Behavior 101
The topic of the day was inspired by an assignment given in a psychology class at Wellesley College. The assignment was to behave deviantly in a public place and observe the reactions. The study was an investigation into what determines deviant behavior and also how people react to deviance.
The trick of the assignment is to be completely normal in appearance except for one, slightly off-color behavior - so you have to pick something that cannot be construed as psychotic or dangerous, just slightly-off color.
Here goes:
Deviant but Harmless Behavior 101
- Wear underwear on the outside of your clothes
- Wear your coat backwards
- Ride the T and read a book, very loudly
- Ride the T with a relaxed, normal face but laugh once really loudly every few minutes - at this point you can have a laugh face but just when you laugh, then you rface goes back to normal
- Walk down a public area and hop once every few feet
- Sit on the T with a finger in your ear
- Walk around with a big snot on your cheek
- Look at a blank piece of paper studyingly, crumple it into a tight ball, unfold it, flatten it, look at it again, crumple, flatten...
- Walk around saying "it's ok" and then direct it to people that look at you
- Write something, like just simply "Hi" on your forehead and walk around
- Walk around like you are blind (maybe with a stick or with your hands out) but do something so it is clear that you do have sight
- Play an instrument or sing in a public place for money - do it badly, see how many people snicker, cringe, feel bad and give you money.
- Cry in public and see how many people move away, stare or show compassion
- In a fancy restaurant eat without your hands but do it elegantly (as much as possible) but use your silverware and/or hands to mave your food around on the plate
- Sit on the T and count while you brush your hair, look and act as classically normal as possible. You have to be counting high numbers so it looks like you've been brushing for a long time.
- Ride the T and just breath deeply and loudly (but be careful not to hyperventilate)
That's it folks! That's what I came up with in 30 Minutes on the Machine.
Saturday, April 08, 2006
A Helping Hand
It is Saturday morning. It is cold and wet outside.
The house is still...very still...
Such a luxury when you have small, tyrannical children. Dan took them all away from the house - they went to soccer practice.
I go outside to smoke a cigarette.
Sitting on my kitchen stoop I see an earth worm slugging along . Chug...chug...chug...little by little... I am fascinated by the rythmic movement of his muscles working to move his body along the concrete stoop.
How can this little body with its thin fragile skin move across the courseness of the concrete without tearing itself to bits.
He appears to have some destination in mind. Hmmm. I think he is trying to find earth...trying to make his way home. I watch him as I inhale slowly, deeply....It's yucky out here...cold and damp...I'm cold...He looks cold. I know. He doesn't feel the cold. He's fine.
Chug...chug...chug...
I notice he has a little pebble stuck to his body. That looks uncomfortable. That would bother me. It doesn't bother him. Chug...chug...chug...does not deter him from his goal. He is making excellent progress. He is heading in the right direction...toward the edge of the concrete where the ground starts...and home begins.
Suddenly he stops...starts to roll...curling and uncurling until the pebble falls away from his body. He straights himself up and continues on his way. I guess it did bother him.
Again, he stops...arches his head up and looks around. It is as if he senses he has lost his way. Indeed he is now pointed in the wrong direction. He let that pebble distract him from his goal. He takes a moment to reorient himself...
He spies a small clump of dirt nearby and points himself toward it. Chug...chug...chug... When his nose hits the clump he cringes. This is not where he wanted to be.
He looks up again, sees something big and dark lurking just off to the left. He redirects his aim toward it. Chug...chug...chug...
My cigarette is almost gone.
He's going the wrong way.
Should I help him out?
Maybe just a little bit.
Like guidance from the heavens, my hand comes out of the sky and rests barely beside his head. That is not the earth. It is a garbage bag. Go this way. He curls up and stays very still for a bit. Resistance. I take my hand away. When he feels as if I am gone he uncurls and goes back to his goal.
Chug...chug...chug... slugging toward the garbage bag.
He stops.
Looks around as if again unsure that he is going the right way. He looks confused. Head arches up, turns left...turns right...big, dark thing...left...right...left...
So the heavens open up again and down comes the hand...this time with more insistance that he trust. I hold my finger in place, next to his head. You've lost your way and I'm here to help you find it again. Don't be stubborn...Trust me...relax and open yourself up. He is panicing, floundering...
Finally, he relaxes...straigtens himself up and heads for the earth.
My cigarette is finished. I hope he makes it home.
The house is still...very still...
Such a luxury when you have small, tyrannical children. Dan took them all away from the house - they went to soccer practice.
I go outside to smoke a cigarette.
Sitting on my kitchen stoop I see an earth worm slugging along . Chug...chug...chug...little by little... I am fascinated by the rythmic movement of his muscles working to move his body along the concrete stoop.
How can this little body with its thin fragile skin move across the courseness of the concrete without tearing itself to bits.
He appears to have some destination in mind. Hmmm. I think he is trying to find earth...trying to make his way home. I watch him as I inhale slowly, deeply....It's yucky out here...cold and damp...I'm cold...He looks cold. I know. He doesn't feel the cold. He's fine.
Chug...chug...chug...
I notice he has a little pebble stuck to his body. That looks uncomfortable. That would bother me. It doesn't bother him. Chug...chug...chug...does not deter him from his goal. He is making excellent progress. He is heading in the right direction...toward the edge of the concrete where the ground starts...and home begins.
Suddenly he stops...starts to roll...curling and uncurling until the pebble falls away from his body. He straights himself up and continues on his way. I guess it did bother him.
Again, he stops...arches his head up and looks around. It is as if he senses he has lost his way. Indeed he is now pointed in the wrong direction. He let that pebble distract him from his goal. He takes a moment to reorient himself...
He spies a small clump of dirt nearby and points himself toward it. Chug...chug...chug... When his nose hits the clump he cringes. This is not where he wanted to be.
He looks up again, sees something big and dark lurking just off to the left. He redirects his aim toward it. Chug...chug...chug...
My cigarette is almost gone.
He's going the wrong way.
Should I help him out?
Maybe just a little bit.
Like guidance from the heavens, my hand comes out of the sky and rests barely beside his head. That is not the earth. It is a garbage bag. Go this way. He curls up and stays very still for a bit. Resistance. I take my hand away. When he feels as if I am gone he uncurls and goes back to his goal.
Chug...chug...chug... slugging toward the garbage bag.
He stops.
Looks around as if again unsure that he is going the right way. He looks confused. Head arches up, turns left...turns right...big, dark thing...left...right...left...
So the heavens open up again and down comes the hand...this time with more insistance that he trust. I hold my finger in place, next to his head. You've lost your way and I'm here to help you find it again. Don't be stubborn...Trust me...relax and open yourself up. He is panicing, floundering...
Finally, he relaxes...straigtens himself up and heads for the earth.
My cigarette is finished. I hope he makes it home.
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