I am many things but a gardener is not one of them. It's not that I am anti-flower or vegetation. More like I am anti upkeep of flowers and vegetation. I can appreciate a pretty yard as much as the next person, honestly I can. And if I had magic fairies that would plant, weed and keep up my yard I would have a pretty yard too. And by fairies I don't mean landscapers. If I meant landscapers I would have said landscapers. They cost money whereas fairies would do it for free because they love nature and everything pretty. Before any of you get worried and think about committing me, I know that these fairies indeed do not exist. I wish they did, but if I had everything I wished for then I wouldn't need to be talking to you through this blog. Now now that isn't very nice. Of course I would still want and definitely talk to you. I just think the subject matter would be quite different. As I think all of you could agree with that statement of fact.
So a couple of years ago David decided to clean up the front of the house. And by decided I mean that he called his buddy who is a landscaper to do it. See, we had taken out a little stone wall thing that formed a flower bed in the front of the house a year or so before that. The contents of the flower bed had slowly slid down the driveway because(insert duh here) there was nothing to hold it in. There were bushes in there that I had ripped out and some tulips and daffodils. I ripped all those out as well. Again I say that I have nothing against flowers, I just didn't want to deal with them. In my mind it was better to have it barren then have random plants sprouting here and there. As we all know I like and practically crave organization, so this haphazard plant growth made me a little crazy. Well, ok, a little crazier than my norm.
That first year the front of the house looked nice. A new wall had been made out of railroad ties around the old flower bed and they had weed blocked and mulched the whole inside. For the first time since we had lived there the front of the house looked halfway decent. Let me further explain that we are the last house on a dead end street. So, I really don't feel the need to "dress up" the house to impress anyone. The only ones who see it are us and the people who live across the street. Their yard isn't going to be featured on better homes and gardens anytime soon, so I feel no pressure there. Not like it would bother me anyway. I don't have yard envy.
After that first year with the new front of the house the damn tulips and daffodils came up again. I thought they would be gone for good after being ripped out, weed blocked and mulched. Yes, I know enough to get the bulbs out of the ground and not just the plants. Still there they were. What are these things made of? Titanium? They are hearty little suckers. So, once again I ripped them out and sprayed weed block. Guess what I see when I walk out the front of my house? I will give you three guesses and the first two don't count.(That's another one of my mom-isms. She would say that all the time when obviously we knew the answer). Yup, those damn daffodils and tulips are there flaunting themselves like a hooker on the Vegas strip. It's hard not to like them when you see them. Well you have to admire their spirit anyway. They have survived 5 years of me ripping them out. Just to sprout back up again in the spring.
I have gotten to the point where I am in a live and let live kind of frame of mind. They work so hard to grow and be seen. All they want to do is their biological duty. Reach through the ground to the sun and spread their blooms upward. I have to admit they are pretty flowers and they bring a small smile to my face when I see them. That is until they are all dead and look like trash. That's when I lose it every year. I would rather see nothing then the brown stalks of flowers past. Once that happens it is game on. Then it will be me against them for our annual rematch. Maybe this year I will get them. Maybe this year I will rid my flower bed of those pesty flowers that inhabit it. Of course I have to wait until next spring to find out.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Monday, April 25, 2011
The Big Fat Greek Easter
I thought I would give you all a recap of yesterdays events. Not only was it Easter but it was Greek Easter too which doesn't happen very often because they follow a different calendar. My family and I were invited to our first Greek Easter celebration, otherwise known as the big fat greek easter. I donned a spiffy little outfit, duded up the little fella and brought my husband along. Haha. For all of you who have been waiting with bated breath since my last blog, I did wear the new pants. I paired them with a nice drape neck tee and cardigan that looked sweet with my snake skin(faux of course--I'm not Rockerfeller) heels. Once I got over the anxiety of deciding what to wear, and I did get the anticipated response from David when I tried to get an opinion on more than one outfit. He liked the very first one I tried--imagine that! Like I didn't see that coming. Once that anxiety was gone then I had the new anxiety of what to expect when I got to tbfge(the big fat greek easter).
I had never been to a tbfge before, and not only that I was only going to know a handful of people there. If this was anything like the movie there would be 100 people there! All carrying bottles of windex and shouting hoompah as they tossed back shots of a greek liquor. I mean, the extent of my knowledge of greek anything was limited to chicken kabob salads, spanikopita and baklava. Speaking of foods why does spinach, tomatoes and feta cheese immediately make something greek? Ever notice that? A pizza becomes greek if it has those ingredients, a sandwich becomes greek if has those ingredients. Why do the greek get to corner the market of spinach and feta? Anyway, I digress as usual.
All I knew about the food at tbfge was there was a whole lamb being roasted. Yes, you are reading correctly, I said a Whole Lamb. Now I have never had lamb. The craziest I ever got with meat was when I was in Texas and had venison. That's Bambi for you who didn't know that. It was GROSS, and I will never eat it again. I stick to chicken, pork and turkey for the most part. Every once in a blue moon I will have red meat. I have asked David about lamb before. Usually if we are out to eat and there is a dish that sounds interesting I will ask him, "What does lamb taste like?" And I get the response lamb. Now how the heck is that helpful? I need a description. The next question I ask him is, "Do you think I would like lamb?" And he always answers no, so I don't try it. Why I think he knows my taste buds better then me is kind of funny. What is funnier is he is usually right.
So, we walk into the guest's house and after I let go of my death grip on David's hand I am introduced to the family and I start to relax a little(even though I do feel slightly overdressed). Mostly everyone is in jeans. Note to self to dress down for the next one. The house isn't crowded and the people there are friendly. It also helps to have a child to chase after so I am not staying in one place for too long to have those awkward pauses in conversation that you have with strangers. We are kind of just walking through the house when David says, "Oh there is Peter. Let's go outside and say hi." We meander outside and there is the lamb on the spit over the fire turning and roasting. Now here you have to remember my previous comment about David and lamb. We walk over to Peter and say our happy easters and Peter says to David you gotta try the lamb. He cuts a piece off the animal turning and roasting over the fire and gives it to him. David eats it and says, "Oh that's good. Mary-Beth you have to try this!" Are you freaking kidding me! That is what he has to say. After all those times I have asked him about lamb. I take a small bite and it isn't bad. I have another small piece and I call it a day with the lamb. Don't want to overdo it on my maiden voyage with the new beast. That and its kinda creepy to watch Peter slicing meat off the animal whose shape I can plainly see. I am not in any way a vegetarian, but I don't necessarily want to see the shape of the animal I am eating. Even whole chickens creep me out a bit. I hate cleaning them and will make David do it.
The men folk are all standing around the beast and eating the meat as Peter slices it off. Its like a scene from caveman days only with sharper knives. Peter did make me a souvlaki and gave it to me fresh off the grill. That was good. I had never had that before either and it was tasty. I might order that out at one of the thousand greek owned shops around my house. You think I am kidding but there has to be at least that many. They are everywhere. The rest of the food is ready inside the house and there is seriously enough food that each person there could have had their own serving platter. There is a medley of foods like salads, veggies, some lamb off the beast in the backyard and there is the spanikopita. There is also some random things like macaroni and cheese and puff pasty with brie and raspberries.
All in all it was a good afternoon. I tried lamb and didn't die. Had my first souvlaki. Managed to talk with people I didn't really know and didn't die with that either. Life is kind of crazy in it throws you curve balls all the time. Some days you duck out of the way, some days you catch them, and some days you hit it out of the park. If you had asked me a year ago if I had pictured this being my life I think I would have fallen over laughing. But that's what keeps us moving forward I guess. The new adventures, the twists and turns. Life is a journey not a destination. I am glad that I have year to prepare for the next bfge. It will probably take that long to prepare the outfit.
I had never been to a tbfge before, and not only that I was only going to know a handful of people there. If this was anything like the movie there would be 100 people there! All carrying bottles of windex and shouting hoompah as they tossed back shots of a greek liquor. I mean, the extent of my knowledge of greek anything was limited to chicken kabob salads, spanikopita and baklava. Speaking of foods why does spinach, tomatoes and feta cheese immediately make something greek? Ever notice that? A pizza becomes greek if it has those ingredients, a sandwich becomes greek if has those ingredients. Why do the greek get to corner the market of spinach and feta? Anyway, I digress as usual.
All I knew about the food at tbfge was there was a whole lamb being roasted. Yes, you are reading correctly, I said a Whole Lamb. Now I have never had lamb. The craziest I ever got with meat was when I was in Texas and had venison. That's Bambi for you who didn't know that. It was GROSS, and I will never eat it again. I stick to chicken, pork and turkey for the most part. Every once in a blue moon I will have red meat. I have asked David about lamb before. Usually if we are out to eat and there is a dish that sounds interesting I will ask him, "What does lamb taste like?" And I get the response lamb. Now how the heck is that helpful? I need a description. The next question I ask him is, "Do you think I would like lamb?" And he always answers no, so I don't try it. Why I think he knows my taste buds better then me is kind of funny. What is funnier is he is usually right.
So, we walk into the guest's house and after I let go of my death grip on David's hand I am introduced to the family and I start to relax a little(even though I do feel slightly overdressed). Mostly everyone is in jeans. Note to self to dress down for the next one. The house isn't crowded and the people there are friendly. It also helps to have a child to chase after so I am not staying in one place for too long to have those awkward pauses in conversation that you have with strangers. We are kind of just walking through the house when David says, "Oh there is Peter. Let's go outside and say hi." We meander outside and there is the lamb on the spit over the fire turning and roasting. Now here you have to remember my previous comment about David and lamb. We walk over to Peter and say our happy easters and Peter says to David you gotta try the lamb. He cuts a piece off the animal turning and roasting over the fire and gives it to him. David eats it and says, "Oh that's good. Mary-Beth you have to try this!" Are you freaking kidding me! That is what he has to say. After all those times I have asked him about lamb. I take a small bite and it isn't bad. I have another small piece and I call it a day with the lamb. Don't want to overdo it on my maiden voyage with the new beast. That and its kinda creepy to watch Peter slicing meat off the animal whose shape I can plainly see. I am not in any way a vegetarian, but I don't necessarily want to see the shape of the animal I am eating. Even whole chickens creep me out a bit. I hate cleaning them and will make David do it.
The men folk are all standing around the beast and eating the meat as Peter slices it off. Its like a scene from caveman days only with sharper knives. Peter did make me a souvlaki and gave it to me fresh off the grill. That was good. I had never had that before either and it was tasty. I might order that out at one of the thousand greek owned shops around my house. You think I am kidding but there has to be at least that many. They are everywhere. The rest of the food is ready inside the house and there is seriously enough food that each person there could have had their own serving platter. There is a medley of foods like salads, veggies, some lamb off the beast in the backyard and there is the spanikopita. There is also some random things like macaroni and cheese and puff pasty with brie and raspberries.
All in all it was a good afternoon. I tried lamb and didn't die. Had my first souvlaki. Managed to talk with people I didn't really know and didn't die with that either. Life is kind of crazy in it throws you curve balls all the time. Some days you duck out of the way, some days you catch them, and some days you hit it out of the park. If you had asked me a year ago if I had pictured this being my life I think I would have fallen over laughing. But that's what keeps us moving forward I guess. The new adventures, the twists and turns. Life is a journey not a destination. I am glad that I have year to prepare for the next bfge. It will probably take that long to prepare the outfit.
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Ramble On
Ramble on and then on some more. That seems to be the theme of my life lately. I usually save the prattle for the inside my head chats that I have but sometimes the prattle just needs to escape. And what better place for it than my blog. For those of you unfamiliar with the term prattle, it is inane chatter, useless drivel, diarrhea of the mouth, and I am sure you get the point by now.
Went to lunch with my handsome hubby and adorable little boy today. Jeff is always adorable and David is handsome today because he bought me some new clothes. Ok, ok he is always handsome. Just some days more than others, haha. Anyway back to the lunch story. We went to a restaurant at the mall that we frequent because we enjoy the food. Why else would we frequent that restaurant? See, the prattle has started from the get go. Bet most of you are feeling badly for David right now. Please don't. He really only listens to about a third of what I say anyway. He has long since filtered out the prattle I am prone to dispensing. Back to the story....where was I? Oh, yeah--lunch! So I get my usual, David gets a sandwich different from his norm and Jeff gets a kids meal. What else would he get, right? From the first bite I am disappointed. It's not very good, and definitely not up to its usual standards. As I said in a previous blog, most times when I go to a restaurant I go there for a specific item and today was no exception to that rule. I had been thinking about this sandwich since we decided to go to the mall. The reason we went to the mall in the first place will follow. After eating the sub-standard sandwich (we were paying for it--I had to eat it) I began the conversation with David of why it is so hard to complain to the waitress when the food is not good. This has happened to me before and no matter how upset I am with the food, when she comes to the table and asks how everything is I will smile and say, "Good thanks." Today was no different folks. So after saying this to David I then say if the manager comes over I will tell him. Then wouldn't you know it, like I summoned him with my mind the manager comes to the table. He asks how everything was and I........ TELL HIM THE TRUTH! He seemed genuinely acting upset by my disappointment and says to me, "The next time you come in ask for me and I will be sure that you have a good meal." I say thank you and turn to David and say he won't remember me the next time I come in. Again as if summoned by my mind he returns with a voucher for a free sandwich. Nice gesture, but let me ask you this. Why is it the restaurant gives you free food for a return visit when you complained about the food? What makes them think you want to come back? Common sense would dictate that they take the offending item off your bill. Ah, but if the world worked in common sense then we would have nothing to complain about. Or we would probably complain about the world making too much sense.
As I have mentioned before I tend to fixate on things. Food, articles of clothing, level of gas in my car, etc. Most of them for no good reason. The gas thing has a logical explanation. I ran out of gas once. Yup, right outside a gas station. Had to get out and ask someone to push my car up to the pump. Needless to say I have a validated fear of running out of gas. Thankfully my car now tells me how many miles I have until the tank is empty. A very useful feature that I enjoy. Anyway as I was saying I fixate on things. So, I saw a pair of pants on gap.com that I thought might be nice. Same line of pants that I currently wear but in a spring color. So I decide that I won't buy them online. I can give you any of the 4000 reasons I gave myself for not getting them but it is not important to the story. I decided yesterday that I wanted the pants. Now it is too late to order them online so I go to my nearest store. Of course they don't have my size. I say to myself it's not that important. Did I forget to mention that I wanted these pants to wear on Easter? I had just decided that they would be perfect. The very pants I passed on before now became essential to my Easter outfit. As my friend Tiffany said to me, "Easter outfit, what are you 5? Are you going to get a bonnet too?" And as I told her, no--we are going out on Easter. Back to the fixation of the pants. Boy it's hard to follow my flight of ideas sometimes. Hang in folks, we are approaching our destination. I promise there is a point to the prattle. Now I have a time crunch on my hands. Thus starts the fixation with finding the pants. With the price of gas as it is and having a toddler driving all over creation looking for them isn't the smartest option. And by all over creation I mean the two malls near me. I decide to call around looking for them. Who am I kidding, I would have done that anyway. I have a low tolerance for frustration. I find a pair! Yay!!! Now comes the internal prattle of when do I go pick them up? The store will hold them until closing the next day. I am trying to decide if a Friday night at the mall will be worse than a rainy Saturday. I guess you can figure out what I decided. Good news is they were cheaper in the store then they were online so it was a definite win win for me. And as an added bonus I got a few items at the Loft courtesy of that handsome hubby I mentioned.
We are going to a Greek Easter celebration tomorrow. I have never been to one. All I know is they roast a whole lamb--head and all. My knowledge of greek celebrations is limited to the movie My Big Fat Greek Wedding. I guess I will find out tomorrow how much of that movie is based in truth. How does one dress for such an occasion? I have issue with choosing clothing for such things. I like to dress up and usually complain that I never have anywhere to go that requires more than a pair of jeans and a sweater. But given the opportunity I over think the situation and put myself into a right tizzy. Big surprise there right? David has grown weary of "fashion show". That is what I call it when I make him sit and look at every outfit I have thought of to wear. Now he usually just says that one and he is done. I have gotten smarter though, I make him give me a reason for his yes or no answer. Hmmm, that could be why he has lost his desire to participate in this. I have to say though, in my defense, to me there is nothing worse than feeling over or under dressed. I don't have the confidence to pull it off. I am not one of those ladies that struts into a room. But if I like the way I look it helps put a little pep in my step. I am a firm believer in the "If you look good you feel good" principle. Of course who decides if you look good? This is where it gets a bit fuzzy for me.
So, I have the new pants. I am pretty sure I will wear them. Pretty sure being the operative words in that sentence. I have a new cardigan that would be cute with them and there are a pair of shoes that I love that would complement the outfit. You all know how I feel about shoes. Did I forget to mention that I always feel better in new clothes? The catch is the clothes have to be bought at a good price or then I am wracked with guilt over the purchase. And will return them to get the money back. See? It is not easy to be me. I think I have the outfit picked out. I can relax right? One would think yes, but alas I know myself all too well. I know that I will over analyze the whole ordeal until I'm exhausted and practically mentally paralyzed. Then the whole "look good, feel good" principle will be shot to hell. But you never know. The first outfit might be a winner and that will be all she wrote. Good news is we don't have to be at "The Big Fat Greek Easter" until 2:30. I have plenty of time to torture myself and by myself I mean me and David. Happy and Blessed Easter everyone.
Went to lunch with my handsome hubby and adorable little boy today. Jeff is always adorable and David is handsome today because he bought me some new clothes. Ok, ok he is always handsome. Just some days more than others, haha. Anyway back to the lunch story. We went to a restaurant at the mall that we frequent because we enjoy the food. Why else would we frequent that restaurant? See, the prattle has started from the get go. Bet most of you are feeling badly for David right now. Please don't. He really only listens to about a third of what I say anyway. He has long since filtered out the prattle I am prone to dispensing. Back to the story....where was I? Oh, yeah--lunch! So I get my usual, David gets a sandwich different from his norm and Jeff gets a kids meal. What else would he get, right? From the first bite I am disappointed. It's not very good, and definitely not up to its usual standards. As I said in a previous blog, most times when I go to a restaurant I go there for a specific item and today was no exception to that rule. I had been thinking about this sandwich since we decided to go to the mall. The reason we went to the mall in the first place will follow. After eating the sub-standard sandwich (we were paying for it--I had to eat it) I began the conversation with David of why it is so hard to complain to the waitress when the food is not good. This has happened to me before and no matter how upset I am with the food, when she comes to the table and asks how everything is I will smile and say, "Good thanks." Today was no different folks. So after saying this to David I then say if the manager comes over I will tell him. Then wouldn't you know it, like I summoned him with my mind the manager comes to the table. He asks how everything was and I........ TELL HIM THE TRUTH! He seemed genuinely acting upset by my disappointment and says to me, "The next time you come in ask for me and I will be sure that you have a good meal." I say thank you and turn to David and say he won't remember me the next time I come in. Again as if summoned by my mind he returns with a voucher for a free sandwich. Nice gesture, but let me ask you this. Why is it the restaurant gives you free food for a return visit when you complained about the food? What makes them think you want to come back? Common sense would dictate that they take the offending item off your bill. Ah, but if the world worked in common sense then we would have nothing to complain about. Or we would probably complain about the world making too much sense.
As I have mentioned before I tend to fixate on things. Food, articles of clothing, level of gas in my car, etc. Most of them for no good reason. The gas thing has a logical explanation. I ran out of gas once. Yup, right outside a gas station. Had to get out and ask someone to push my car up to the pump. Needless to say I have a validated fear of running out of gas. Thankfully my car now tells me how many miles I have until the tank is empty. A very useful feature that I enjoy. Anyway as I was saying I fixate on things. So, I saw a pair of pants on gap.com that I thought might be nice. Same line of pants that I currently wear but in a spring color. So I decide that I won't buy them online. I can give you any of the 4000 reasons I gave myself for not getting them but it is not important to the story. I decided yesterday that I wanted the pants. Now it is too late to order them online so I go to my nearest store. Of course they don't have my size. I say to myself it's not that important. Did I forget to mention that I wanted these pants to wear on Easter? I had just decided that they would be perfect. The very pants I passed on before now became essential to my Easter outfit. As my friend Tiffany said to me, "Easter outfit, what are you 5? Are you going to get a bonnet too?" And as I told her, no--we are going out on Easter. Back to the fixation of the pants. Boy it's hard to follow my flight of ideas sometimes. Hang in folks, we are approaching our destination. I promise there is a point to the prattle. Now I have a time crunch on my hands. Thus starts the fixation with finding the pants. With the price of gas as it is and having a toddler driving all over creation looking for them isn't the smartest option. And by all over creation I mean the two malls near me. I decide to call around looking for them. Who am I kidding, I would have done that anyway. I have a low tolerance for frustration. I find a pair! Yay!!! Now comes the internal prattle of when do I go pick them up? The store will hold them until closing the next day. I am trying to decide if a Friday night at the mall will be worse than a rainy Saturday. I guess you can figure out what I decided. Good news is they were cheaper in the store then they were online so it was a definite win win for me. And as an added bonus I got a few items at the Loft courtesy of that handsome hubby I mentioned.
We are going to a Greek Easter celebration tomorrow. I have never been to one. All I know is they roast a whole lamb--head and all. My knowledge of greek celebrations is limited to the movie My Big Fat Greek Wedding. I guess I will find out tomorrow how much of that movie is based in truth. How does one dress for such an occasion? I have issue with choosing clothing for such things. I like to dress up and usually complain that I never have anywhere to go that requires more than a pair of jeans and a sweater. But given the opportunity I over think the situation and put myself into a right tizzy. Big surprise there right? David has grown weary of "fashion show". That is what I call it when I make him sit and look at every outfit I have thought of to wear. Now he usually just says that one and he is done. I have gotten smarter though, I make him give me a reason for his yes or no answer. Hmmm, that could be why he has lost his desire to participate in this. I have to say though, in my defense, to me there is nothing worse than feeling over or under dressed. I don't have the confidence to pull it off. I am not one of those ladies that struts into a room. But if I like the way I look it helps put a little pep in my step. I am a firm believer in the "If you look good you feel good" principle. Of course who decides if you look good? This is where it gets a bit fuzzy for me.
So, I have the new pants. I am pretty sure I will wear them. Pretty sure being the operative words in that sentence. I have a new cardigan that would be cute with them and there are a pair of shoes that I love that would complement the outfit. You all know how I feel about shoes. Did I forget to mention that I always feel better in new clothes? The catch is the clothes have to be bought at a good price or then I am wracked with guilt over the purchase. And will return them to get the money back. See? It is not easy to be me. I think I have the outfit picked out. I can relax right? One would think yes, but alas I know myself all too well. I know that I will over analyze the whole ordeal until I'm exhausted and practically mentally paralyzed. Then the whole "look good, feel good" principle will be shot to hell. But you never know. The first outfit might be a winner and that will be all she wrote. Good news is we don't have to be at "The Big Fat Greek Easter" until 2:30. I have plenty of time to torture myself and by myself I mean me and David. Happy and Blessed Easter everyone.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Show Me Show Me Show Me
I am a big fan of a ton of Showtime's series. I would probably be hooked on HBO's too, but I refuse to pay for all the movie channels. What do I look like, Rockerfeller? That was a saying I heard many many times growing up. And it seemed to fit here so I used it. As I was saying I enjoy watching most of the series that Showtime offers, and occasionally one or two on Starz. I sense your confusion because I just said I'm not Rockerfeller. Don't fret my pet, Starz and Showtime are a package deal. The only series I ever watched on Starz was Spartacus and that is only because David watched it. Now let me just tell you that if you haven't seen it, watcher beware! There is more blood, boobs and craziness than a Saturday night in downtown Lynn! Jeff was an infant when we started watching this series and I made sure to never have him facing the tv when it was on. Not that he could see it, it was really just that bad. It was one of those shows that sucked you in, even though you were visibly cringing while watching it.
Now Nurse Jackie and Dexter are two of my favs on Showtime. Being a nurse myself I originally took offense to Nurse Jacki's portrayal of my profession. It only took and episode or two to get over that and just enjoy the pure insanity of the show. I am sure there are some people out there that really are addicts and function quite well. To me, the thought of that is just mind boggling. This coming from the girl that sleeps for a half a day after taking a couple of percocet. Purely for medicinal purposes, not to deal with my life on a day to day basis. Although I have to admit that sometimes a valium or xanax would be nice. Anywho, What the heck happened to this season? We are about 3 episodes in and I am giving a two thumbs down Ebert. The story line is just weak and seems to be crumbling. I will persevere and watch on. Only because nothing else is on right now.
Same with Dexter. Last season was TERRIBLE!!! Don't get me wrong, I do like Julia Stiles but her role on the show was odd to put it nicely. The previous season ending with Dexter's wife being murdered in their bathtub was epic. Where do you go from there David and I wondered. Clearly to lame-town because that is the best way to describe it. Of course we continued to watch hoping that the next week would get better. Sadly, it only disappointed us week after week. Indeed not getting better and leaving us with the comment after the finale of what the hell happened to Dexter?
The Big C was very entertaining. One wouldn't think a show about cancer could be funny. Because to state the most obvious thing ever is to say that cancer is not funny. But this show made the focus about the character and not only the illness. And she was funny. The show was funny, kooky and sad all taking turns to amuse us. I wonder of it will be picked up for another season. Or if it will have the same fate as many of the shows I like. You get one season to get hooked just to get the rug pulled out from underneath you when it gets canceled. Of course I am not that up on current events so what usually happens is it takes me a good long while to realize that it hasn't come back on. Then I have to reprogram the DVR. It's not like I can actually stay awake for any of these shows. They come on way too late. Truth be told I can stay up, it's my hubby who is next to me that wants the tv turned off. Anyway back to my litany of Showtime shows.
Last but not least is the newest kid on the block, Shameless. Let's all take a minute and sing the chorus of I'll Be Loving You. No? Ok, we will soldier on. Shameless is the most appropriate title for that show. Yet it sucked me in like quick sand. William H Macy is brilliant. Although you do have to wonder what he was thinking taking this role. The role of an alcoholic deadbeat dad to 6 kids. The show kind of made you appreciate your life. I am sure that wasn't their point but that's the effect it had on me. I know the story lines are dramatized and exaggerated but these characters sure have some crap to deal with. And I am sure that to some extent there are people out there that like them are adding water to the gallon of milk so there is enough for everyone's breakfast cereal. Whatever feelings it instilled in me it kept me watching.
Now before any of you go judging me for watching too much tv, there is one important fact I must point out. These shows don't all run at the same time. They are all staggered which is how they get you to keep paying for the movie channels. It surely isn't for the year or older movies that run on them. But hey, I got to get my moneys worth. If I'm paying then I'm watching.
Now Nurse Jackie and Dexter are two of my favs on Showtime. Being a nurse myself I originally took offense to Nurse Jacki's portrayal of my profession. It only took and episode or two to get over that and just enjoy the pure insanity of the show. I am sure there are some people out there that really are addicts and function quite well. To me, the thought of that is just mind boggling. This coming from the girl that sleeps for a half a day after taking a couple of percocet. Purely for medicinal purposes, not to deal with my life on a day to day basis. Although I have to admit that sometimes a valium or xanax would be nice. Anywho, What the heck happened to this season? We are about 3 episodes in and I am giving a two thumbs down Ebert. The story line is just weak and seems to be crumbling. I will persevere and watch on. Only because nothing else is on right now.
Same with Dexter. Last season was TERRIBLE!!! Don't get me wrong, I do like Julia Stiles but her role on the show was odd to put it nicely. The previous season ending with Dexter's wife being murdered in their bathtub was epic. Where do you go from there David and I wondered. Clearly to lame-town because that is the best way to describe it. Of course we continued to watch hoping that the next week would get better. Sadly, it only disappointed us week after week. Indeed not getting better and leaving us with the comment after the finale of what the hell happened to Dexter?
The Big C was very entertaining. One wouldn't think a show about cancer could be funny. Because to state the most obvious thing ever is to say that cancer is not funny. But this show made the focus about the character and not only the illness. And she was funny. The show was funny, kooky and sad all taking turns to amuse us. I wonder of it will be picked up for another season. Or if it will have the same fate as many of the shows I like. You get one season to get hooked just to get the rug pulled out from underneath you when it gets canceled. Of course I am not that up on current events so what usually happens is it takes me a good long while to realize that it hasn't come back on. Then I have to reprogram the DVR. It's not like I can actually stay awake for any of these shows. They come on way too late. Truth be told I can stay up, it's my hubby who is next to me that wants the tv turned off. Anyway back to my litany of Showtime shows.
Last but not least is the newest kid on the block, Shameless. Let's all take a minute and sing the chorus of I'll Be Loving You. No? Ok, we will soldier on. Shameless is the most appropriate title for that show. Yet it sucked me in like quick sand. William H Macy is brilliant. Although you do have to wonder what he was thinking taking this role. The role of an alcoholic deadbeat dad to 6 kids. The show kind of made you appreciate your life. I am sure that wasn't their point but that's the effect it had on me. I know the story lines are dramatized and exaggerated but these characters sure have some crap to deal with. And I am sure that to some extent there are people out there that like them are adding water to the gallon of milk so there is enough for everyone's breakfast cereal. Whatever feelings it instilled in me it kept me watching.
Now before any of you go judging me for watching too much tv, there is one important fact I must point out. These shows don't all run at the same time. They are all staggered which is how they get you to keep paying for the movie channels. It surely isn't for the year or older movies that run on them. But hey, I got to get my moneys worth. If I'm paying then I'm watching.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Dream A Little Dream
I haven't been sleeping so great the past few nights. I fall asleep easily enough but staying asleep seems to be the issue. I find myself waking more than I would like and then becoming annoyed. Oh the list of things that annoy me in the middle of the night is staggering. I will spare you the in depth list and give you some highlights. First off I am annoyed that I am awake when I want to be asleep. That of course gets my mind revving and it then takes some work to calm myself back down to a state where I can go back to sleep. There is the occasions when my husband is facing my side of the bed and I won't say snoring but that is what he is doing. Then comes the debate of do I wake him up to make him roll over, or do I wait and see how long it is before my powers of esp will get him to magically turn the other way. After more than my fair share of nights of failed esp that option isn't really on the table anymore. Neither is moving him. If any of you have seen/met my husband you know that he is about 6'3 and weighs around 260. Moving him when he is awake is a chore never mind when he is in a dead sleep. So, waking him is the only viable option left. Of course when I do that I get the look of death from him. You know the one that coined the phrase if looks could kill? Yeah, that one. But hey in the heat of the battle of trying to get back to sleep, I vote for no holds barred. Another annoyance is waking up and having to pee. I then start to have the thought conversation if did I have to pee and that is why I am awake, or do I have to pee now that I am awake. It's like a the whole chicken and egg thing. Which came first? Which leads to the next thought conversation of do I really have to get up or can I fall back asleep without going to the bathroom. In the end is any of it really important? I just wasted precious sleeping time debating over why I have to pee and should I go, when in reality is is impossible to go back to sleep once you feel the need. So the whole mental gymnastics I just did was pointless. Now comes the annoyance of trying to get comfortable again and go back to sleep. Which is all I wanted in the first place.
The thing for my about broken sleep is the dreams are crazy! When Jeff was a newborn and sleep deprivation was at its height, I would wake in a full panic because I could not remember where I had put him. My last conscious thought was feeding him and then it was all a blank. Thank goodness again for video monitors. I could quickly check and see that he was indeed in his own bed and not trapped somewhere in mine. Anyway, as I was saying the dreams are just nuts. I dreamed the other night that Jeff was sleeping in his room, but I had only taken off his pants. So he was sleeping in his tshirt and socks, I hadn't put him in his pj's. The craziest part was that in my dream I had turned his crib upside down and he was sleeping in it like a cage. Who thinks of these things? This morning I was actually dreaming about me dreaming. I was dreaming of me dreaming. It was like I was living the movie Inception or something. My dreams can get so much crazier than that. Insert twilight zone music here. Doo doo doo doo. I mean you have all read about how my mind works when I am awake. It boggles the brain to think about what it is doing when I am not in control of it! When I was younger and by younger I mean in my 20's a drink or two(of the alcoholic variety) would ensure a good nights sleep. Now, it's more likely than not to cause much broken sleep and crazy as a shithouse rat dreams. How crazy is a shithouse rat? Well, I have to say you must be pretty darned crazy to choose a shithouse to live in. Or maybe it's just my crazy coming out to play again. Til tonight my friends. Here's to a whole night of dreamless sleep :)
The thing for my about broken sleep is the dreams are crazy! When Jeff was a newborn and sleep deprivation was at its height, I would wake in a full panic because I could not remember where I had put him. My last conscious thought was feeding him and then it was all a blank. Thank goodness again for video monitors. I could quickly check and see that he was indeed in his own bed and not trapped somewhere in mine. Anyway, as I was saying the dreams are just nuts. I dreamed the other night that Jeff was sleeping in his room, but I had only taken off his pants. So he was sleeping in his tshirt and socks, I hadn't put him in his pj's. The craziest part was that in my dream I had turned his crib upside down and he was sleeping in it like a cage. Who thinks of these things? This morning I was actually dreaming about me dreaming. I was dreaming of me dreaming. It was like I was living the movie Inception or something. My dreams can get so much crazier than that. Insert twilight zone music here. Doo doo doo doo. I mean you have all read about how my mind works when I am awake. It boggles the brain to think about what it is doing when I am not in control of it! When I was younger and by younger I mean in my 20's a drink or two(of the alcoholic variety) would ensure a good nights sleep. Now, it's more likely than not to cause much broken sleep and crazy as a shithouse rat dreams. How crazy is a shithouse rat? Well, I have to say you must be pretty darned crazy to choose a shithouse to live in. Or maybe it's just my crazy coming out to play again. Til tonight my friends. Here's to a whole night of dreamless sleep :)
Monday, April 18, 2011
Spic and Span
So, when Jeff and I came downstairs this morning the state of the floors assaulted me. Ok, I am not living in squalor but for me the floors were dirty. Actually they have been bugging me for a couple of days. You know how you know something is there but you can magically avert your notice of it until one day it is like a brick hit you in the head? Yeah, that happened to me this morning. Vacuuming and washing floors is not my favorite chore. I just don't like it. There are so many cleaning activities that I don't mind that most people dislike. For example bathrooms. Cleaning the bathrooms doesn't bother me in the slightest. The trick is to do it often enough so they don't get gross to the point that cleaning them becomes a major pain. Dusting is another chore that I actually like. Maybe it's the fumes from the can of polish. Just kidding, but there is something pleasant about that lemony fresh scent. Now don't get me wrong. I love the smell of a clean floor too. It's just the cleaning of it that is the deterrent for me. It's one of those things in life that you hate doing, but are happy with the end result. I am sure I could list a dozen or more examples of that!
Now I keep the area around Jeff's chair at the dining table clean. You have to. Living with a toddler means that food will end up on the floor at most if not all meals. So that means I use the dust buster there every day. Don't judge! The floor is getting clean, do we really need to debate the how it gets there? It's the dragging of the big vacuum that is just annoying. Even that isn't so bad, more an inconvenience than a real bother. Of course I do have to carry it downstairs to use it. I used to have a vacuum on both floors of the house. So one would think that I vacuumed more then, right? Au contraire my friend. Now I just have a legitimate excuse as to why I can put off that chore :)
Lately I have been swearing at said vacuum for its lack of performance. I mean seriously it has one job to do. Logic would dictate that it would do that job well. So not only do I hate to vacuum, now the machine isn't even working up to par. It's a wonder I use the damn thing at all. That being said I couldn't look at the state of the floors anymore. I decided that when Jeff went down for his nap this morning I would drag the stupid thing downstairs and vacuum the whole first floor. Right away it's not picking up the littlest of things. A pebble here, a dried piece of who knows what there. Ok, maybe its the tile I say. Trying to give it the benefit of the doubt. Maybe the uneven surface of the tile is giving this machine a challenge. So after pushing the pebble or whatever around for a while I finally bend down and pick it up. Which to me is totally against the whole purpose of using the vacuum. If I wanted to bend down and pick stuff up off the floor I would do that without having lugged the damn machine around. Did I mention it's even more of a pain because I have to take out the child protectors from the outlets to plug it in! Aaaarrgh.
Anyway, there I am vacuuming and picking things up off the floor with my hands when I decide it's good enough. The area rug looks good. It will be at least a day before Jeff is picking up fluff and handing it to me. A game he loves to play because every now and then he will decide to quickly insert said fluff into his mouth. Then it becomes a wrestling match worthy of the wwf to get it out of his mouth. As I was wrapping the cord around the cord holder I decide that maybe I will look under the vacuum to see how it looks. This is what I saw. Look for picture under blog title spic and span 2.
Are you freaking kidding me???? No wonder the damn thing isn't working. Apparently my hair and other assorted sundries get wrapped around the brushes instead of being sucked up into the wind tunnel that this vacuum so proudly boasts. After sitting on the floor with a pair of scissors for 15 minutes besides having a sore butt I got the stupid thing all cleaned out. Nothing like making the chore more of a chore! So the vacuum gets redemption and I get to continue to lug it around. Maybe I will show this Hoover and get a Dyson. Bet that would show it who's boss. Haha
Now I keep the area around Jeff's chair at the dining table clean. You have to. Living with a toddler means that food will end up on the floor at most if not all meals. So that means I use the dust buster there every day. Don't judge! The floor is getting clean, do we really need to debate the how it gets there? It's the dragging of the big vacuum that is just annoying. Even that isn't so bad, more an inconvenience than a real bother. Of course I do have to carry it downstairs to use it. I used to have a vacuum on both floors of the house. So one would think that I vacuumed more then, right? Au contraire my friend. Now I just have a legitimate excuse as to why I can put off that chore :)
Lately I have been swearing at said vacuum for its lack of performance. I mean seriously it has one job to do. Logic would dictate that it would do that job well. So not only do I hate to vacuum, now the machine isn't even working up to par. It's a wonder I use the damn thing at all. That being said I couldn't look at the state of the floors anymore. I decided that when Jeff went down for his nap this morning I would drag the stupid thing downstairs and vacuum the whole first floor. Right away it's not picking up the littlest of things. A pebble here, a dried piece of who knows what there. Ok, maybe its the tile I say. Trying to give it the benefit of the doubt. Maybe the uneven surface of the tile is giving this machine a challenge. So after pushing the pebble or whatever around for a while I finally bend down and pick it up. Which to me is totally against the whole purpose of using the vacuum. If I wanted to bend down and pick stuff up off the floor I would do that without having lugged the damn machine around. Did I mention it's even more of a pain because I have to take out the child protectors from the outlets to plug it in! Aaaarrgh.
Anyway, there I am vacuuming and picking things up off the floor with my hands when I decide it's good enough. The area rug looks good. It will be at least a day before Jeff is picking up fluff and handing it to me. A game he loves to play because every now and then he will decide to quickly insert said fluff into his mouth. Then it becomes a wrestling match worthy of the wwf to get it out of his mouth. As I was wrapping the cord around the cord holder I decide that maybe I will look under the vacuum to see how it looks. This is what I saw. Look for picture under blog title spic and span 2.
Are you freaking kidding me???? No wonder the damn thing isn't working. Apparently my hair and other assorted sundries get wrapped around the brushes instead of being sucked up into the wind tunnel that this vacuum so proudly boasts. After sitting on the floor with a pair of scissors for 15 minutes besides having a sore butt I got the stupid thing all cleaned out. Nothing like making the chore more of a chore! So the vacuum gets redemption and I get to continue to lug it around. Maybe I will show this Hoover and get a Dyson. Bet that would show it who's boss. Haha
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Why Oh Why
Hello my friends. My favorite peeps in the world. Of course you are my favs because you read and hopefully follow my blog. Yup, my new little pet project. Which I have been told I am not taking seriously enough. Who would have the audacity to ridicule me you ask with an audible gasp. Thanks for the look of shock your faces. I appreciate the support. The person daring to claim that I am not serious or devoted to this would be the one and only teenage stepson of mine. Or on some days my husband's son. If you are a step parent you all know what I mean. This from the lovely child that has never blogged a day in his life. Who knows if he even reads blogs. I do know he isn't reading mine. I agree with all of you. If he isn't participating in supporting me then he has no right to comment! Once again, I appreciate your love and support.
So, today's topic is why oh why. As in I planned to take Jeff out for a run this afternoon. That being me running and him riding on his jogging stroller. So, I decided to shower after this because I would be sweaty. Big news flash right! Yes, I am one of those very un-elegant girls who sweats like a man when I exercise. Anywho, during his nap the skies clouded over and it began to rain again. If anyone heard the rain last night it was pretty heavy. I thought we were in for another deluge. So I figured a run was out of the question so I showered. Now, as I sit here talking to you the den is flooded with sunshine. WHY OH WHY!!!! Now I have to decide if I want to take off my pretty outfit to put on workout clothes and get sweaty then have to shower again. I really dislike showering twice in one day. So, I try to coordinate my personal hygiene with my exercise and oh, of course Jeff's schedule. Not an easy task some days. It would have been nice of I had seen the weather report this morning. But David was home and Sunday mornings are meant for DIY channel. I got to watch Mike Holmes do a really cool project, but he definitely didn't help me determine when to bathe today.
I put Jeff down for his nap at 10:15. He usually goes to sleep within 10 minutes or so. One would think today would follow suit because he was so tired. But oh no. He played in his crib for over an hour. Then finally fell asleep when he was supposed to be waking up. At least he wasn't crying or complaining. WHY OH WHY!!!! Not sleeping when he is supposed to sleep messes everything up. OK, maybe I am being a little melodramatic. It may not mess everything up but it sure screws up my day. And you know what they say. "If Mama ain't happy, ain't no one happy". Which is actually a crock of you know what. If the baby ain't happy, everyone ain't happy.
That being said I am off to wake him up. Not an exceptionally fun or terrible task. He wakes up pretty easy and usually with a good disposition. I have to admit that I do get the teensiest bit of joy out of it. Kind of like a bit of karma for the first 5 months of his life when he was the one waking me up.
So, today's topic is why oh why. As in I planned to take Jeff out for a run this afternoon. That being me running and him riding on his jogging stroller. So, I decided to shower after this because I would be sweaty. Big news flash right! Yes, I am one of those very un-elegant girls who sweats like a man when I exercise. Anywho, during his nap the skies clouded over and it began to rain again. If anyone heard the rain last night it was pretty heavy. I thought we were in for another deluge. So I figured a run was out of the question so I showered. Now, as I sit here talking to you the den is flooded with sunshine. WHY OH WHY!!!! Now I have to decide if I want to take off my pretty outfit to put on workout clothes and get sweaty then have to shower again. I really dislike showering twice in one day. So, I try to coordinate my personal hygiene with my exercise and oh, of course Jeff's schedule. Not an easy task some days. It would have been nice of I had seen the weather report this morning. But David was home and Sunday mornings are meant for DIY channel. I got to watch Mike Holmes do a really cool project, but he definitely didn't help me determine when to bathe today.
I put Jeff down for his nap at 10:15. He usually goes to sleep within 10 minutes or so. One would think today would follow suit because he was so tired. But oh no. He played in his crib for over an hour. Then finally fell asleep when he was supposed to be waking up. At least he wasn't crying or complaining. WHY OH WHY!!!! Not sleeping when he is supposed to sleep messes everything up. OK, maybe I am being a little melodramatic. It may not mess everything up but it sure screws up my day. And you know what they say. "If Mama ain't happy, ain't no one happy". Which is actually a crock of you know what. If the baby ain't happy, everyone ain't happy.
That being said I am off to wake him up. Not an exceptionally fun or terrible task. He wakes up pretty easy and usually with a good disposition. I have to admit that I do get the teensiest bit of joy out of it. Kind of like a bit of karma for the first 5 months of his life when he was the one waking me up.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
You Spin Me Right Round
Howdy Partners! Welcome to the latest installment of my kind of crazy. Todays view is a glimpse into my inner dialogues. But wait, if I am talking to myself wouldn't that be a monologue? I guess that would be the correct term but it feels like a conversation. Let me enlighten you with a witty little ditty of mine.
So, I loaded the dishwasher up to let it run last night while I was in bed. Let me first just tell you that I HATE getting up in the morning and having to empty the dishwasher before I can make breakfast. It is just one of those chores that I don't enjoy. The challenge I face is that once I load it up after dinner and then dessert, even if I start it right then I will go to bed before the cycle is done. So, inevitably I will be emptying it in the morning. Anywho, I digress. Back to the story I started. What was that again? Oh yeah, my intent was to run the dishwasher. So, as is customary with me I forgot to turn it on before I went upstairs. It's not that my short term memory is that bad (ok, maybe it is), but I get wrapped up in the task at hand. Last night (and most nights) it is wrangling my toddler to get him upstairs to get ready for bed. So, Jeff and I troop upstairs for bath, book and bed and I completely forget about the dishwasher. As a matter of fact it completely slips out of my consciousness for the whole bedtime routine. Continues to be absent through tv time. It decides to pop back in after the tv and lights have been turned off and I am trying to go to sleep. All of a sudden there it is. YOU DIDN'T TURN ON THE DISHWASHER!!!! And yes for those of you who are wondering it is that loud in my head. Now starts the dialogue, monologue--whatever you want to call it. Ok, let's cut the fancy words. I am talking to myself. It goes like this. The dishwasher isn't running because you forgot to start it. Ugh, should I get up and go turn it on? It's so warm and cozy in bed. And you just got comfortable. But the dishes won't be clean in the morning and you will have to run it then. Is there enough dishes and silverware for breakfast? Yes, ok problem solved then. Run it in the morning.
Now for a normal or normal-ish person this inner conversation would take probably just as long as it took you to read it. Me? Oh, no no no. That would be too easy. I need to perseverate over this dilemna for a good 10 minutes. Just to reach the same outcome. The dishwasher did not get started until I got up this morning. And guess what? The world didn't end. Nor would it with any of the other issues I torture myself over. That is one thing I really wish I could change and am working on changing about myself. A simple decision can become laborious. A difficult decision can take hours! The back and forth and back and forth is exhausting. So by the time I actually get to whatever it is I was internally debating I am too tired to even want to do it anymore. You would think that by asking someone's advice it would take the pressure off of me and make the decision easier. Once again for a normal person the answer would be yes. For me? Well now I have just added a new voice to the inner commentary. Making the timely outcome of a decision even more of a dream then before.
That's just a little glimpse into the wonderful world of MB's mind. Yup, this is my life. Aren't ya jealous? Give me a couple hours and I can give you an answer.......
So, I loaded the dishwasher up to let it run last night while I was in bed. Let me first just tell you that I HATE getting up in the morning and having to empty the dishwasher before I can make breakfast. It is just one of those chores that I don't enjoy. The challenge I face is that once I load it up after dinner and then dessert, even if I start it right then I will go to bed before the cycle is done. So, inevitably I will be emptying it in the morning. Anywho, I digress. Back to the story I started. What was that again? Oh yeah, my intent was to run the dishwasher. So, as is customary with me I forgot to turn it on before I went upstairs. It's not that my short term memory is that bad (ok, maybe it is), but I get wrapped up in the task at hand. Last night (and most nights) it is wrangling my toddler to get him upstairs to get ready for bed. So, Jeff and I troop upstairs for bath, book and bed and I completely forget about the dishwasher. As a matter of fact it completely slips out of my consciousness for the whole bedtime routine. Continues to be absent through tv time. It decides to pop back in after the tv and lights have been turned off and I am trying to go to sleep. All of a sudden there it is. YOU DIDN'T TURN ON THE DISHWASHER!!!! And yes for those of you who are wondering it is that loud in my head. Now starts the dialogue, monologue--whatever you want to call it. Ok, let's cut the fancy words. I am talking to myself. It goes like this. The dishwasher isn't running because you forgot to start it. Ugh, should I get up and go turn it on? It's so warm and cozy in bed. And you just got comfortable. But the dishes won't be clean in the morning and you will have to run it then. Is there enough dishes and silverware for breakfast? Yes, ok problem solved then. Run it in the morning.
Now for a normal or normal-ish person this inner conversation would take probably just as long as it took you to read it. Me? Oh, no no no. That would be too easy. I need to perseverate over this dilemna for a good 10 minutes. Just to reach the same outcome. The dishwasher did not get started until I got up this morning. And guess what? The world didn't end. Nor would it with any of the other issues I torture myself over. That is one thing I really wish I could change and am working on changing about myself. A simple decision can become laborious. A difficult decision can take hours! The back and forth and back and forth is exhausting. So by the time I actually get to whatever it is I was internally debating I am too tired to even want to do it anymore. You would think that by asking someone's advice it would take the pressure off of me and make the decision easier. Once again for a normal person the answer would be yes. For me? Well now I have just added a new voice to the inner commentary. Making the timely outcome of a decision even more of a dream then before.
That's just a little glimpse into the wonderful world of MB's mind. Yup, this is my life. Aren't ya jealous? Give me a couple hours and I can give you an answer.......
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
And I Ran
Howdy my faithful viewers. Good day to you all and here's hoping for an increase in numbers. Be sure to tell your friends. This blog is hot! Or maybe just lukewarm at best--haha.
So, my Facebook post yesterday was about running. It went something like this for those of you who missed it. "Ah running in the spring. The warmth of the sun on your face, the cool breeze rustling your hair, the stinging of your eyes as bugs land in them". I was telling the truth just with a little humor thrown in. I thought of that posting as I was running with Jeff yesterday and a bug flew right in my eye. It is not fun to have small insects land in your eyes when you are already sweating and trying not to ruin your full face of make-up. I'm kidding folks. I don't exercise with make-up. I'm not a Real Housewife of Orange County for pete's sake. Seriously though, I think the only thing worse than having bugs land in your eyes is having them fly down your throat as you are gasping for air. That is a more accurate depiction of me running. Five foot two woman red faced, sweating profusely and gasping for air while running and pushing a stroller. Nice image right? If you are anywhere near my neighborhood you could be treated to that image for free!
I have always enjoyed running but at different levels at different times in my life. I ran track in junior high and high school. I was never fond of distances, preferring the shorter races and sprints. I like to think I was pretty good at it. The lack of medals and ribbons would say otherwise. The point is I liked it and it was fun to socialize with the other runners and by other runners I mean the boys track team. I didn't run much or at all in college. My affinity for exercise would wax and wane, usually depending on my size. Let's just say the "Freshman 15" had nothing on me. I hit the cafeteria almost as hard as I hit the books. So, eventually exercise became a case of "have to" more than "want to". I digress, this isn't about my college weight woes. It's about running.
I didn't run much after college until my divorce. Which occurred 3 years after my marriage which occurred a year after graduation. Running became fun again. Mostly because I had a running partner, a girl I worked with at the hospital. She would come pick me up and we would run down at the beach. We did that at least 3 times a week. That was a great summer/fall. I never ran more than 4 miles but that was enough. Enough to get a good sweat going and feel good. I am not nor ever have been a winter runner. You see those people dashing in and out of the street as they try to avoid the snow banks and icy sidewalks. I mean you have to give those people credit. It is pure insanity to be out there in those temperatures and dangerous conditions. Not to mention it feels like you are breathing fire trying to breathe in that frigid air. Yeah, no thanks. Not for me.
Over the years I continued my love hate relationship with running. I discovered that I had asthma, which threw a little wrench in the works. My periods of being able to be outside got shorter and shorter. I have always preferred to run outside. I fell head over heels with running again and decided to get a treadmill for my house. Then I was able to still run when the weather prevented me from being outside. That was a good time for me. I would just get in the zone and be able to run for what seemed like forever. It was really only an hour. What do I look like, Forrest Gump? My issue with treadmill running is that I need visual stimuli as a distraction. Music just isn't enough. That's why I like being outside. The changing landscape and scenery. Of course when I am outside I need the audio stimuli of music as a distraction, the scenery isn't enough. I know, you're mumbling to yourselves "Jeez-she's never happy!". Yup, that pretty much sums it up, haha. When we moved my new house was not big enough to have the treadmill in my living room. So, I quickly lost interest in running. I just couldn't stare at a wall and run. My desire to run would come and go, never staying more than a few weeks at a time.
So, here I am with spring upon us and temperatures climbing into my "acceptable running" zone. I am looking to rekindle my relationship with my fickle friend running. Once again I have a partner. Of course I have to push him to get him to go with me, but hey, that's a minor inconvenience. I'll suffer through it for the company. I have to say that running while pushing a stroller is a challenge. Even if it is a jogging stroller it is still challenging. It is definitely not as easy as it looks. Especially when you are trying to get back into it.
I love the challenge of planning a course in my head then seeing if I can do it. Once I get that course done, I plan a longer one. And I just keep going until I have surpassed even my expectations of myself. That is a great feeling. Finding out that you are stronger then you think. What a rush! Now, if only I could get the weather to cooperate so I can continue this love affair. I know our time is limited before our inevitable separation. But I won't dwell on that. Now, it's the warmth of the sun on my face, the cool breeze rustling my hair and the bugs landing in my eyes and hopefully not down my throat.
So, my Facebook post yesterday was about running. It went something like this for those of you who missed it. "Ah running in the spring. The warmth of the sun on your face, the cool breeze rustling your hair, the stinging of your eyes as bugs land in them". I was telling the truth just with a little humor thrown in. I thought of that posting as I was running with Jeff yesterday and a bug flew right in my eye. It is not fun to have small insects land in your eyes when you are already sweating and trying not to ruin your full face of make-up. I'm kidding folks. I don't exercise with make-up. I'm not a Real Housewife of Orange County for pete's sake. Seriously though, I think the only thing worse than having bugs land in your eyes is having them fly down your throat as you are gasping for air. That is a more accurate depiction of me running. Five foot two woman red faced, sweating profusely and gasping for air while running and pushing a stroller. Nice image right? If you are anywhere near my neighborhood you could be treated to that image for free!
I have always enjoyed running but at different levels at different times in my life. I ran track in junior high and high school. I was never fond of distances, preferring the shorter races and sprints. I like to think I was pretty good at it. The lack of medals and ribbons would say otherwise. The point is I liked it and it was fun to socialize with the other runners and by other runners I mean the boys track team. I didn't run much or at all in college. My affinity for exercise would wax and wane, usually depending on my size. Let's just say the "Freshman 15" had nothing on me. I hit the cafeteria almost as hard as I hit the books. So, eventually exercise became a case of "have to" more than "want to". I digress, this isn't about my college weight woes. It's about running.
I didn't run much after college until my divorce. Which occurred 3 years after my marriage which occurred a year after graduation. Running became fun again. Mostly because I had a running partner, a girl I worked with at the hospital. She would come pick me up and we would run down at the beach. We did that at least 3 times a week. That was a great summer/fall. I never ran more than 4 miles but that was enough. Enough to get a good sweat going and feel good. I am not nor ever have been a winter runner. You see those people dashing in and out of the street as they try to avoid the snow banks and icy sidewalks. I mean you have to give those people credit. It is pure insanity to be out there in those temperatures and dangerous conditions. Not to mention it feels like you are breathing fire trying to breathe in that frigid air. Yeah, no thanks. Not for me.
Over the years I continued my love hate relationship with running. I discovered that I had asthma, which threw a little wrench in the works. My periods of being able to be outside got shorter and shorter. I have always preferred to run outside. I fell head over heels with running again and decided to get a treadmill for my house. Then I was able to still run when the weather prevented me from being outside. That was a good time for me. I would just get in the zone and be able to run for what seemed like forever. It was really only an hour. What do I look like, Forrest Gump? My issue with treadmill running is that I need visual stimuli as a distraction. Music just isn't enough. That's why I like being outside. The changing landscape and scenery. Of course when I am outside I need the audio stimuli of music as a distraction, the scenery isn't enough. I know, you're mumbling to yourselves "Jeez-she's never happy!". Yup, that pretty much sums it up, haha. When we moved my new house was not big enough to have the treadmill in my living room. So, I quickly lost interest in running. I just couldn't stare at a wall and run. My desire to run would come and go, never staying more than a few weeks at a time.
So, here I am with spring upon us and temperatures climbing into my "acceptable running" zone. I am looking to rekindle my relationship with my fickle friend running. Once again I have a partner. Of course I have to push him to get him to go with me, but hey, that's a minor inconvenience. I'll suffer through it for the company. I have to say that running while pushing a stroller is a challenge. Even if it is a jogging stroller it is still challenging. It is definitely not as easy as it looks. Especially when you are trying to get back into it.
I love the challenge of planning a course in my head then seeing if I can do it. Once I get that course done, I plan a longer one. And I just keep going until I have surpassed even my expectations of myself. That is a great feeling. Finding out that you are stronger then you think. What a rush! Now, if only I could get the weather to cooperate so I can continue this love affair. I know our time is limited before our inevitable separation. But I won't dwell on that. Now, it's the warmth of the sun on my face, the cool breeze rustling my hair and the bugs landing in my eyes and hopefully not down my throat.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Don't You Forget About Me
Hellooooooo everyone. (Read that in the booming voice from Seinfeld). Can't you just see Jerry saying, "Helloooo Elaine"? It's a classic. Along with the sneering, "Hello Newman". I just love that show and stealing their lines.
So, I am planning my first solo trip since having Jefferson. I am driving out to western MA to visit my best friend from college. Being with her is always a great time. You know those friends that you have that it's just so easy. It doesn't matter how long it has been since you saw each other, you just slip back into old familiar patterns. Like putting on your favorite sweatshirt. It makes you feel warm, cozy and just good. Unfortunately we don't get to see each other too often. Between our schedules and busy lives with kids and family it is difficult. It doesn't help that we live almost 3 hours apart, on opposite ends of the state. The last few times we have seen each other she has come here. We have our annual Christmas shopping trip which occurs here, because truthfully the shopping is better here. Then before that it was her coming out for my baby shower and then to meet Jeff. The last time I was out there was 2 years ago. Needless to say I am long overdue for a visit.
It's funny how I can remember the drive like the back of my hand even though it has been 2 years. I know the order of the towns that I will drive through. Know when the road goes from 2 lanes down to 1. When the speed limit changes around every corner it seems. Once I hit the hairpin turn I know I am almost there. Then I drive by places that I have gone to with my friend and get a little chuckle to myself. Like the Indian-ish bar that we went to because we were looking for a bar with live music. Let me just say Indian-ish because it was on the strip with the tee-pees and signs advertising pow wows. Oh yes my faithful followers I drive by tee-pees and Indian gift shops on the way out to see my friend. Of course the road I am on is called the Mohawk Trail. Anyway, let's carry on with the story. The clientele there were interesting to put it politely. The most memorable was the biker guy who tried to hit on us. The best part of that story is he was wearing a bright red t-shirt with the sleeves cut off and on the front in big, bold white letters was the saying "bad cop no donut". It just complimented the acid wash jeans and leather do rag covering the long braid. One word for that guy---Sexy. Haha. And he was probably the least scary person in there. We didn't stay very long. It does take a while to get out there to see her, but it's always worth it.
I am a jumble of emotions about this trip. I am so looking forward to some adult me time, but on the flip side I am racked with guilt over leaving my baby. There hasn't been a day in his life that he hasn't seen me. It is so easy to get wrapped up in all my crazy thoughts. "Will he remember me?" "Will he miss me?" "Will he even know I am gone?" It's crazy isn't it? We're talking about 2 days here for pete's sake! Not that I am disappearing! What it boils down to, what my concern is, will David take care of him the way I do. That's what I worry about. And the honest truth is that David won't. Because he isn't me, so therefore he can't. But does that mean the way he cares for Jeff is bad or wrong? And the answer to that is no. I am sure they will have a great time together. David may not feed him what I would give him, but I know that he will stick to Jeff's schedule and kiss and hug him until Jeff pushes him away. Now, will my husband miss me? I certainly hope so! Although he doesn't seem to mind that I am leaving. Maybe it's just because he knows that I need this time and he's happy for me. Yeah, I'll go with that one.
This time will be good for me. It will be nice to have some adult time with my favorite friend. Just being able to laugh and joke and be carefree. My biggest concern is what to pack to wear. The weather will be nice but they still have a ton of snow out there. So footwear is going to be tricky. I texted her asking what to bring and she said and I quote, "regular shoes with a side of rubber boots". She's a freaking riot. I love her. She is the friend I have had the longest and is such a part of my life. I can't imagine not knowing her.
That ladies and gentlemen is what I am looking forward to for the next 2 days. That's just a glimpse into what our conversations will be like. So, whatever worries or concerns I may have about leaving, I know they will all disappear once I get there. Or at least I hope so......
So, I am planning my first solo trip since having Jefferson. I am driving out to western MA to visit my best friend from college. Being with her is always a great time. You know those friends that you have that it's just so easy. It doesn't matter how long it has been since you saw each other, you just slip back into old familiar patterns. Like putting on your favorite sweatshirt. It makes you feel warm, cozy and just good. Unfortunately we don't get to see each other too often. Between our schedules and busy lives with kids and family it is difficult. It doesn't help that we live almost 3 hours apart, on opposite ends of the state. The last few times we have seen each other she has come here. We have our annual Christmas shopping trip which occurs here, because truthfully the shopping is better here. Then before that it was her coming out for my baby shower and then to meet Jeff. The last time I was out there was 2 years ago. Needless to say I am long overdue for a visit.
It's funny how I can remember the drive like the back of my hand even though it has been 2 years. I know the order of the towns that I will drive through. Know when the road goes from 2 lanes down to 1. When the speed limit changes around every corner it seems. Once I hit the hairpin turn I know I am almost there. Then I drive by places that I have gone to with my friend and get a little chuckle to myself. Like the Indian-ish bar that we went to because we were looking for a bar with live music. Let me just say Indian-ish because it was on the strip with the tee-pees and signs advertising pow wows. Oh yes my faithful followers I drive by tee-pees and Indian gift shops on the way out to see my friend. Of course the road I am on is called the Mohawk Trail. Anyway, let's carry on with the story. The clientele there were interesting to put it politely. The most memorable was the biker guy who tried to hit on us. The best part of that story is he was wearing a bright red t-shirt with the sleeves cut off and on the front in big, bold white letters was the saying "bad cop no donut". It just complimented the acid wash jeans and leather do rag covering the long braid. One word for that guy---Sexy. Haha. And he was probably the least scary person in there. We didn't stay very long. It does take a while to get out there to see her, but it's always worth it.
I am a jumble of emotions about this trip. I am so looking forward to some adult me time, but on the flip side I am racked with guilt over leaving my baby. There hasn't been a day in his life that he hasn't seen me. It is so easy to get wrapped up in all my crazy thoughts. "Will he remember me?" "Will he miss me?" "Will he even know I am gone?" It's crazy isn't it? We're talking about 2 days here for pete's sake! Not that I am disappearing! What it boils down to, what my concern is, will David take care of him the way I do. That's what I worry about. And the honest truth is that David won't. Because he isn't me, so therefore he can't. But does that mean the way he cares for Jeff is bad or wrong? And the answer to that is no. I am sure they will have a great time together. David may not feed him what I would give him, but I know that he will stick to Jeff's schedule and kiss and hug him until Jeff pushes him away. Now, will my husband miss me? I certainly hope so! Although he doesn't seem to mind that I am leaving. Maybe it's just because he knows that I need this time and he's happy for me. Yeah, I'll go with that one.
This time will be good for me. It will be nice to have some adult time with my favorite friend. Just being able to laugh and joke and be carefree. My biggest concern is what to pack to wear. The weather will be nice but they still have a ton of snow out there. So footwear is going to be tricky. I texted her asking what to bring and she said and I quote, "regular shoes with a side of rubber boots". She's a freaking riot. I love her. She is the friend I have had the longest and is such a part of my life. I can't imagine not knowing her.
That ladies and gentlemen is what I am looking forward to for the next 2 days. That's just a glimpse into what our conversations will be like. So, whatever worries or concerns I may have about leaving, I know they will all disappear once I get there. Or at least I hope so......
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Much Ado About Nothing
So, today will be one of those random flight of idea blogs. Basically a blog about nothing. Which if I am honest is the basis of all of my blogs. Sure some have a definite theme in them, but for the most part it's just my idea of the day. Kind of like the show Seinfeld, which for those of you who don't know it, was a show about nothing. Just stories from the lives of the four main characters. And it was on for 9 years! Here's hoping my blog has a semblance of that popularity. I loved that show, it was on at 9pm on Thursday. Known as part of NBC's Thursday night lineup. There was Friends at 8, ER at 10 and those transient shows in the 8:30 and 9:30 time slots. Shows like Caroline in the City. Right, who remembers that one. Seinfeld became popular when I was in college. My friends and I would get together every Thursday night to watch the whole 3 hours of tv. The only issue, if you want to classify it as an issue, was that we were all nursing majors. Ok, no big deal so far. Being a nursing major and watching tv had nothing in common. But now factor in that all of our nursing exams were on Fridays. Friday mornings to be exact. Are you picking up what I'm putting down here? Work with me people. Favorite tv shows on Thursday nights, nursing exams on Friday mornings? Ah, the collective sigh of recognition is deafening. So, what to do what to do. This was before DVRs and we were college students who did not have extra money to waste on blanks tapes for the vcr to record the shows. So, we did what any self respecting fan would do. We watched our favorite programs and studied in the half hours in between them. Makes sense right? I mean if we didn't know the material the night before the exam, would studying really help? It's a wonder we graduated.
I have the first 6 seasons of Seinfeld on dvd. Recently I hinted rather unsublty to my husband that I wanted the last 3 seasons to complete the set. I even put them in my Amazon wish list, which I pointed out as well. What I got for an answer was, "If you want them, buy them." Now, that is a pretty obvious statement. Something I know I can and could do. But I wanted to get them as a present. Say for Christmas or as part of my birthday present. I have to be careful here because my loving husband reads this blog. So, I need to specify when I would like them. Mother's Day is around the corner and I would not like to get Seinfeld dvd's as my gift. But he might only hear I want Seinfeld dvd's and think Mother's Day is a great time to get them. Then think he is doing good because he remembered something that I wanted. Ah, men!
What I find so frustrating is that I can be a step behind. You know when someone says something kind of snide and you are left standing there with your mouth open thinking how rude to then think of the best comeback ever only it's 10 minutes too late? Yeah, that's me. I have heard it called "stair wit" because you are witty as you are walking down the stairs. Of course not every situation has stairs in it but you get the general premise. I think it should be called "10 minutes too late wit". I find that same frustration with this whole blogging thing. I struggle with finding an idea that I think people would want to read about. When I finally do come up with something, it's usually a flurry of ideas and I only end up catching some of them. Kind of like trying to catch a swarm of butterflies in a net. Sure you will catch a bunch but there will be some that get away. Then as you are walking away, usually after you have packed up your net, you see some more butterflies. But now you can't catch them. Your net is packed up, and if you go about the process of unpacking it the butterflies would be gone. See? It's the 10 minutes too late thing back to bite you in the ass again. Of course you practical people say you can just go back and edit the blog. Input the wit and humor or sarcasm that you missed the first time. True. But I post my blog right after I am done and then publish it to Facebook. If I edited it I would have to publish it over and over again. I doubt people would read it over and over again. I am good, but not that good. I mean I'm no Seinfeld. So some would see it and some wouldn't. Then my loyal followers--all 9 of you---would miss the edited/funnier version if they read it right away, which I am sure that everyone does :). I mean, who wouldn't right? You're all chomping at the bit for my next installment. Oh, the inner self deprecating dialogue can be so tedious.
Just another thing to add to the list of "things to work on". If the list gets any longer I might have to hire an assistant to help me with my self help. Hee hee now that's funny.. And for once I'm right on time and not 10 minutes too late.
I have the first 6 seasons of Seinfeld on dvd. Recently I hinted rather unsublty to my husband that I wanted the last 3 seasons to complete the set. I even put them in my Amazon wish list, which I pointed out as well. What I got for an answer was, "If you want them, buy them." Now, that is a pretty obvious statement. Something I know I can and could do. But I wanted to get them as a present. Say for Christmas or as part of my birthday present. I have to be careful here because my loving husband reads this blog. So, I need to specify when I would like them. Mother's Day is around the corner and I would not like to get Seinfeld dvd's as my gift. But he might only hear I want Seinfeld dvd's and think Mother's Day is a great time to get them. Then think he is doing good because he remembered something that I wanted. Ah, men!
What I find so frustrating is that I can be a step behind. You know when someone says something kind of snide and you are left standing there with your mouth open thinking how rude to then think of the best comeback ever only it's 10 minutes too late? Yeah, that's me. I have heard it called "stair wit" because you are witty as you are walking down the stairs. Of course not every situation has stairs in it but you get the general premise. I think it should be called "10 minutes too late wit". I find that same frustration with this whole blogging thing. I struggle with finding an idea that I think people would want to read about. When I finally do come up with something, it's usually a flurry of ideas and I only end up catching some of them. Kind of like trying to catch a swarm of butterflies in a net. Sure you will catch a bunch but there will be some that get away. Then as you are walking away, usually after you have packed up your net, you see some more butterflies. But now you can't catch them. Your net is packed up, and if you go about the process of unpacking it the butterflies would be gone. See? It's the 10 minutes too late thing back to bite you in the ass again. Of course you practical people say you can just go back and edit the blog. Input the wit and humor or sarcasm that you missed the first time. True. But I post my blog right after I am done and then publish it to Facebook. If I edited it I would have to publish it over and over again. I doubt people would read it over and over again. I am good, but not that good. I mean I'm no Seinfeld. So some would see it and some wouldn't. Then my loyal followers--all 9 of you---would miss the edited/funnier version if they read it right away, which I am sure that everyone does :). I mean, who wouldn't right? You're all chomping at the bit for my next installment. Oh, the inner self deprecating dialogue can be so tedious.
Just another thing to add to the list of "things to work on". If the list gets any longer I might have to hire an assistant to help me with my self help. Hee hee now that's funny.. And for once I'm right on time and not 10 minutes too late.
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