Friday, June 29, 2012

6


Six years ago I was up at 3:00 am and I knew that today was the day.  I knew she'd be here soon.  And at 3:00 pm she was here.
In my arms.
How time flies.
Happy Birthday Meg.

Thursday, June 28, 2012

Offend

I use to have a ton of blogs.  I have lots of ideas and no follow-through.  I deleted some of those blogs.  One in particular is hard because it was just me writing stuff that I thought might offend certain people and now I don't really care about offending people. 
 People say I am funny.  The thing about being called funny is you feel like you have to be funny all the time and that is impossible.  This is why the best funny people commit suicide or get into drugs or become alcoholics; too much expectation. 
Anyhoo, now I don't care about people and before I delete this blog, where I wrote stuff  that was 'offensive', I want to keep some of the posts so I m posting them here to keep.  Forever. 



Right now I am watching "Jesus Christ Superstar" on TV, which you know is how I like my Jesus.  Dirty.  Wearing Bell Bottoms.  Driving a tour bus.  Totally fuckin' awesome.
*****
My kids have discovered my kryptonite.  Books.  I don't want to be that asshole mom that doesn't read to her kids.  The moment I call it quits, go to take a breather my kids show up with a stack of books.  How can you say "f-off" when your kids are showing a desire to learn, use their imagination and all that stuff?
**********
I am now an official cat lady.  I fear that when my kids leave me I will start hoarding cats.
The last fucking show I want to be on is "Hoarders"  I rather be on "Intervention."
I rather be addicted to crack, heroin, mari-g-iuana, ecstasy and meth  and have my family secretly draw me to a cheap hotel room in tears then have a bunch of assholes touch my underwear.
"Intervention" is dramatic.  People are all like "we are here, we love you, we are sending you to a treatment center with massages and therapists and meals and help."
Hoarders they are like "that is one dirty,smelly crazy ass bitch."
****
Did you ever notice that the priests in "Jesus Christ Superstar" look like giant penises?
********

Saturday, June 23, 2012

bully

I see stories and I usually don't have the same reaction as everyone else.  My gut doesn't function properly sometimes.
Case in point the grandma bullied on the bus.
Although I don't condone bullying, all I kept thinking was "Who is the adult in this situation?"  Is it bad that I didn't feel sorry for her?  I didn't pity her.
I questioned why she wasn't doing her job.  What if those same kids were bullying another kid?  If she couldn't stand up for herself how in the world would she stand up for another person?  Her job is to keep the peace and by just sitting there she neglected her duties.
This of course is my opinion.  I think it is a valuable one.

Did you ever notice when you see stories on bullies the answer to bullying is by bullying the people who bullied.  That above statement is a tongue twister, say it three times fast.

...stories on bullies the answer to bullying is by bullying the people who bullied.


...stories on bullies the answer to bullying is by bullying the people who bullied.


...stories on bullies the answer to bullying is by bullying the people who bullied.

You read the story about the bullies and people's comments bully the bully.  It's a vicious cycle.
Word hurt and of course the only answer is to not say hurtful words to people.  It's an easy enough concept, not easy in action.
We say hurtful things and mean it.  We say hurtful things as a joke.

"Oh hahaha, I'm just kidding!"
I tell my kids that when we say we are 'kidding' it is just our true feelings in disguise.  By saying 'I'm kidding' you are not making the hurt go away, it might soothe it a little, the pain will always stay.
Always.  And Forever.

*We just have to live a perfect life.  The best we can.

Wednesday, June 20, 2012

the more things change they stay the same.


*She's got an octopus on her head.  Does it matter?  What does it symbolize?  Is she trying to be funny?  Or ironic?  Poetic?  Does it matter?  Not to me.  She represents my repressed youth or something like that.  I am about her age and when I was younger she sang what I wanted to say and sing and couldn't or wouldn't.
And now I am not so moody and repressed and she just sings songs that I enjoy.  No pressure.
How things change.

*Whenever I am by myself in the car I leave my house in a sense of rush, like I can't wait to get away.  And on my way home there is this overwhelming sense of anxiety because I have to get home and make sure everyone is still alive.  I can never get home  fast enough and a million thoughts go through my head.
My poetic self looks for some foreboding symbol: A black cat, a broken mirror, a storm cloud, a plastic bag floating that suddenly comes down from its heaven.  My literal self puts her foot down a little harder on the gas petal.  Never fast enough.
They are such extremes.  
The leaving and the coming.
They are so different.
Yet they stay the same.

Wednesday, June 13, 2012

refrigerator doors

The hub of our being is of course the refrigerator doors.  You open the doors to nourish yourself and put things on the doors to nourish your soul.  Have you ever noticed that?  You will walk by those doors a million plus time in your life.  You stand in front of them.  You put things in and take things out.  You probably use them more than your front door or your porch door.  The fridge door represents your life right now.  Who you are and where you are going and where you have been.  It's all there, just take a look.
One day I took all the those advertising magnets we received with the phone books and re-purposed them.  I am sure it's nice to have the phone number of our local plumber on hand, but it is more important to remember our roots.

I love quotes.  They remind me of what's important. These are two of my favorite quotes, they are about love and family and that is what it's all about.

They are just words.  When you put those words together, string them in a row, they say wonderful things.

 My husband believes in the number '8'.  It holds mystical power, or so he says.  The '8' is there to remind me that there is power in everything.

Sometimes you just need a little reminder.  You are great!   You are a wonderful person!  The refrigerator doors are the perfect place for those reminders.

There is a lot more on those doors, this is just a choice sampling.  The best of the best.  The pictures and words that grace these doors will change but the heart of it will stay the same.  We all need something to inspire us, and I will always know where to find them.
  

Tuesday, June 5, 2012

addiction

*I have been adding club soda to my wine lately, more refreshing.  Have you ever tried it?  I do a 70% wine to 30% club soda mixture.  I pretend I am a mad scientist creating the elixir of life.  I am creating the elixir of life.  Just doing my part.

*I can count the number of times I have been really inebriated on my two hands.  I have thrown up due to alcohol like three to four times in my life.  I try to be very careful when I drink.  I come with the alcoholic gene.  It sits deep in my self, beneath the blood and cells and chromosomes.  Right next to my hair color, my above average breast size, and predisposition for cancer.  I get it from both size, alcoholism  runs in my blood like a tidal wave. When I drink wine or whatever and wake up with a headache it is my reminder of how I can be everything I don't want to be.  Slow down.
Of course because I don't fill my predisposition with alcohol I find myself filling the void with internet and food and shopping and other creature comforts.  Soft addictions.  I usually stop myself before I get carried away.  I used to shop like mad.  The key to a shopping addiction and hiding it from the people you love is you buy things for OTHER people.  You don't have the reminder of you follies staring you in the face everyday.  And for the most part people don't question because they are benefiting from your addiction.  It's a win win.   Until the credit card bill comes.  And one day someone asks you "Why do you keep buying me stuff?"  And all you can say is "It feels good."
Of course if you have nothing to feed the addiction gene the anxiety starts.  That's always fun.  Anxiety is an addiction in and of itself.  Another thing to obsess over.  Anxiety is like a rocking chair, it gets you moving but doesn't take you anywhere.  No one benefits from anxiety.   Well maybe the drug companies.

* I end with a song.  Because it is my way.  In my house Tuesdays are Taco/Timbaland Tuesdays.  We make tacos and dance to Timbaland music.  My kids wake up and I say "What day is it?" and they answer with an excited "Taco/Timbaland Tuesday!"
Tis awesome.

Monday, June 4, 2012

Eas-E

*When I say absolutely I replace the 'b' with a 'p' so it sounds like a-pp-solutely.  I don't say it that way because it's cute or I am trying to be funny.  That's how I say absolutely.  "A-pp-solutely."  Sometimes I actually catch myself writing with the 'p' instead of a 'b'.  That's when you know you have a problem.

*My kindergarten kid is learning how to spell/read.  Spelling and writing out things phonetically is just the way it works around here right now.  I read what she writes and I have to really look at her words, the way they are written, words are spelled the way they sound. You think it would make my job easier.  But it doesn't.
I look and sound out each word in my head till I get the right word.  And sometimes I correct her.  And sometimes I don't.  
Right now we are working with the ending 'y' that makes a long 'e' sound.  It is an easy-eas-E- enough concept for her to understand.  But still she wants to put and 'e' at the end not a 'y' because "That's the way it sounds Mom and that's how it should be."  I can only agree with her.  Yes, things should be spelled the way they sound.  
If only life was that eas-E.

*I feel like my 'thing' lately is to post a song clip.  I love music.  
The other day I was talking to my children about how the songs I like have meaning.  We talked about how music is more than dancing or partying on Friday night or shaking your butt or calling the boy you like on the phone.  I used this song to demonstrate what I mean.  I hated to talk about war and children dying in war but after we had that chat they went outside and played and I saw their joy.
 No, I mean I REALL-E saw their joy.  
Music is magic.

just

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