Great. A whole lot of stress is about to be introduced back into my life.
Good thing I start training with Mike tomorrow!
Great. A whole lot of stress is about to be introduced back into my life.
Good thing I start training with Mike tomorrow!
The joys of having all girls. Hair fights in the mornings, clothes fights in the afternoon, period talk at the dinner table. We’ve experienced it all. Recently we had “the Talk” with Zombiegirl because they were showing a “body” film in school and I wanted her to be prepared. TMI, Mom. That’s what I got when I showed her the “Miracle of Birth” film.
We were on our way to Cheeburger, Cheeburger (review to follow) in Plainview tonight in Dad’s truck. MR was in the front and Beena, Z-girl and I were in the back. The AC was blasting and Z-girl was getting goosebumps. Which caused the hair on her legs to stand straight up! Beena and I were amazed at how much hair she had- she was furry! Okay, she’s got a great tan and blondish hair but alot of it. When she put her legs into the front seat to show MR, he called her a Wookie. I’ve had this discussion with some of the other moms (seems this generation is unnaturally hairy) and we’ve all agreed that it’s to early for them to shave. But Beena suggested using Nair on the little Yeti.
I am thankful that Zombiegirl is growing up with an older sister. When I piss her off, and I know I will, it’s good to know she can go to her sister, who has a good head on her shoulders. She’ll confide more in Beena than with me, and I’m surprisingly okay with that. I don’t have a sibling anymore to share my pains and joys so I’m glad the girls have each other. And getting rid of unwanted hair might be a little cooler if she takes it off with her sister instead of her mom. As long as she runs downstairs with a big grin on her face and rubs her legs against mine to show how smooth they are. As long as she still wants to snuggle on the couch- just a little while longer.
Oh for crying out loud, I can’t wait until August is over and I can forget to blog a day and not feel guilty.
I was blogging last night, really.
Just not here.
My hubby- he who still does not have an ATM card, fought to NOT get EZ Pass and won’t join Facebook- has a blog.
Yes. You read correctly.
You see, he has a love of watches- much like Rachel Zoe loves shoes, or a drug addict loves a speedball- he loves watches. He tries to talk to me about the 75mm o-ring or the 32 jewels in the automatic setting but I just kinda…
Oops. Sorry. Spaced out a little there. See? That’s what happens when he starts watch talking to me. So I suggested awhile back that he start a blog so that he can spout all his expertise to other watch collectors.
So having some blog experience I helped him set up his account and template. He figured out how to upload the pictures himself, bless his heart! His very clever, so if you can get through the watch mumbo-jumbo, he writes a good blog.
From Time to Time. Read it and comment- make him feel good!
I’m going to be an aunt again! MR’s baby sister Paula and her husband Ray are expecting!
This will be their fourth child. All the rest are four and under.
They’re crazy. But they make beautiful babies.
When Raymond, formerly known as Ray-Ray, was little and Paula was expecting Sammy, Beena went upstate to live with them for the summer as an au pair. She got really close to the kids- so close that the family took her to the Bahamas with them so Paula and Ray could go out at night. Unfortunately, we live about an hour and a half away, so I don’t get to see them as much as I want to.
But when we do, we can’t help talking about them all the way home. They are riots. Sammy (aka Samantha) with her crazy beautiful hair, Raymond with his fasination with trucks and guns and Lily asking “why?” all the time. They are precocious, smart and wild. They’re loving and funny and satisfy my need to read to small children. And tickle. I have to tickle these kids because their laughs are cotton candy and gumdrops. I’ve done “baby hat” *to each and every one of those kids- some of them while in the hospital waiting for their baby brother or sister to be born. I wish I lived around the corner so Aunt Soo can spoil them rotten. I’m jealous of Titi who only lives five minutes away. But I love Titi, too. She’s a wonderful aunt,
Paula doesn’t want to know what the next baby is going to be, but I think we’re all wishing for a boy. I know whatever it is, it’ll be as beautiful and loved as the others.
We took this picture to give to Grandma and Grandpa for Christmas last year…
What a family!
Okay, so I’m caught up on my NaBloPoMo. I really fell apart, physically. But thanks to those who reminded me that I was behind. So kind, so kind.
So we’re winding down August. Holy crap, where did the month go? Pre-camping was spent planning for camping, then post-camping was spent being sick. Throw the craft sale in there (which I WILL blog about) and August has just been used up.
I was thinking about September and how this month always felt like the beginning of a new year. As a kid, I always looked forward to September- a new grade in school, new cartoon lineup, new clothes, new supplies. January never felt like a new year- it was always September.
This September I have a lot to look forward to as well as a lot to be thankful for. Zombiegirl is going into the 5th grade. She’s also starting on her Travel Soccer team. We’re celebrating our 12th Wedding Anniversary. My favorite season starts. 9/9/09 occurs (I always love those dates…) In honor of this September, I wanted to start anew, too, and finish specific things I’ve started. So I label September Anti-Procrastination Month. At least in my little world.
The things I want to get done in September are:
Seven things. That’s not a big deal, right? Completing these seven things will clear the way for the rest of the things I have to do without feeling guilty. Such small things, but they weigh heavy on my soul.
If I can complete these the first week of September, I’ll add more. Not making any promises to myself, though. We’ll see. Procrastination IS my middle name.
I find things stuck on or in my body.
Like the day 11 or 12 years ago I found a bead in my belly button.
I had forgotten the girls and I were playing with beads and they stuck it in there to make me pretty. Three days before I actually found it.
Or the time I was at work and used the ladies room. While washing my hands I looked in the mirror and noticed a huge parrot sticker stuck to the side of my hair. The girls had a ritual- they would give me a sticker in the morning to “remember them” while I was at work. They would put it on my shirt and I would take it off when I left the house. I changed my shirt that day after being stickered, and figured the sticker was still on the shirt. Nope, it was on my hair. And no one told me. I rode the A Train in that morning. For over an hour. And worked. For over an hour.
Or the time I had a Chiquita banana sticker stuck to my pants. I brought a banana to work and the sticker made it’s way from the banana to my chair. I sat down and Tada! [cue music] I’m a Chiquita banana, and I’m here to say- I’m an asshat! Practically all day. Until my manager told me I had a sticker on my ass, and could he take it off for me? (The days before sexual harassment awareness…)
Or the time (this morning) I’m taking a shower and find an OB tampon wrapper (you know, the plastic middle piece that separates the top and the bottom) stuck on my ass. Was it from last night, when I changed the OB, or from this morning when I sat on the toilet? Either way, it was there for awhile because I was up at 5:00 am (see dreamscape below) doing stuff and I took a shower at 6:00 am.
Am I unusually sticky? Or maybe overly sweaty? Or just clueless.
I vote for clueless. I just picked up my lunch two blocks away with my suit jacket buttoned crooked. And wondered why the weird lady in the lobby was looking at ME weirdly.
I’m an asshat.
This segment brought to you by Mamasoo’s wacky subconscience…
As he leaned over her sleeping body, her eyes snapped open and all she could see were his gleaming fangs. She twisted her head to the left, to see if her husband was awake and if he was, did he see what she was seeing? The intense pain she experienced when she turned snapped her head back- face to face with the vampire. She cried out- not because she was afraid, because she was strangely calm, but because her neck hurt so much. Did he already bite me, she thought? “No,” he said aloud, “I didn’t. Yet.” Now she felt a small trickle of fear creep down her spine. Where was her husband? She moved her hand over the quilt to where her husband should be. There was the remote for the TV, but no husband. “He’s not here,” the vampire whispered in her ear. “There’s no one here but you and me.” She tried again to turn her head to the left, but again met with intense pain. She whimpered and the vampire, in reply to her murmur, brushed his fangs against the tight knot in her neck. “You have a pinched nerve, my love.” He placed the points of his fangs against the pain. “Here, let me relieve you of the agony.” As he shifted on the bed to place her in the most tender of embraces, she rolled to the left, ignoring the searing pain in her neck. The vampire fell on the empty spot and cried out in frustration. With a speed that defied nature, he was on her from behind, holding her head at an angle that would allow him access to the tight cable in her neck, as well as her vein. With a moan, he sank his fangs deep into the ache in her neck. She screamed, first her husband’s name, then the name of the vampire, before she lost consciousness.
Deep in the comforting blackness, she heard the insects. They grew louder and louder until she rushed to the surface of the abyss and realized it was her alarm clock. It was 5:00. Time to get up.
A pinched nerve, True Blood and too many vampire books have invaded my dreams. Thanks, SS23, for starting the Dreamscape series.
These past few days I don’t feel like my writing’s been right (or write). My head’s been spinning- from sickness, stress, etc. I can’t concentrate and I feel that’s coming out in my blog. So here, take a little vacation from my blithering idiocy and take a look at what cheers me up courtesy of I Can Has Cheezeburger:
My body is betraying me. It’s kicking its own ass. And because of this, my weekend was put on hold.
Including posting for NaBloPoMo. Shit.
Did I mention I got the stomach virus Zombiegirl came down with? The stomach virus Beena then caught? Well I guess it wasn’t the full blown virus I had on Thursday because I GOT IT AGAIN YESTERDAY! Let me recap my wonderful weekend…
Friday I had to go to New Jersey. I woke up with a migraine- I’ll explain the reason why in a minute- and still queasy from the day before. I slept on the train and felt a little better before I got onto the ferry. Have I written about my commute to Weehawken once a month? Oh, it’s so much fun. I take the 7:38 LIRR to Penn Station. Across the street from Penn I catch the NY Waterways Ferry bus to the ferry terminal. Then I take the Ferry to Weehawken. Add a plane to that and I’ve covered most modes of transportation. So to do all this with a migraine wasn’t my idea of a good time. Much like sitting in a conference room all day going over the same crap we went over two weeks prior isn’t my idea of a good time. You could say I go inot these meetings with a bad attitude already. Being sick didn’t help. Plus, I was supposed to go out with work friends that night to celebrate some birthdays. I was just not feeling up to it, and I’m sure I hurt some feelings. Sorry, but not my fault.
I leave around 4:00pm but when I walk out, it’s more like 9:00 pm. It was totally dark- did I black out for a few hours? Did the meeting run too long? Nope, the rains are coming. And come they did. The heavens opened up the minute I stepped out of the building (of course they did!) I shared my tiny umbrella with someone else walking to the ferry, then with this poor guy holding papers and getting soaked. With three people under my umbrella my poor new Coach bag got drenched, as did my sweater. I took it off on the ferry and actually wrung it out. So that’s why I woke up with such a bad migraine- was it supposed to rain like this today?
I get home and it’s a mad dash to get everything together for the craft sale on Saturday. All I want to do is go to sleep, but I have to remember to take everything with me, since we’re going out to the beach house in order to leave at a decent time to make it to the Hamptons by 8:00 am the next morning. Beena is throwing up and I feel totally guilty leaving her. She reassures me she’s going to sleep right after we leave. I still feel bad, but we have to go. At this point my head is pounding. I sleep in the car. MR is not happy.
The rest of Friday night I spend finishing up the Fairy wands I was sewing at the meeting (heh) and watching more of “Dead Like Me” on hulu.com. Why didn’t I go to bed, you ask? Sleep is the ultimate relief, you say! Why did you stay up to make wands?
I was afraid I wouldn’t have much to sell at the craft sale.
And it was a good thing I did. They all sold. But that’s another post.
Fast forward to Sunday, the day we’re supposed to go to Splish Splash and have everyone over for a BBQ. I wake up at around five in the morning with my ass telling me to Go! Go! Go! Quickly! I fly to the bathroom and…
Great. The Big D.
I go back to bed and fifteen minutes later- Go! Go! GO! This went on for an hour until my virus figured it would be more efficient if it found another exit. Go north, it said!
Have I told you how much I hate throwing up?
I cried myself back to bed, hating my body, hating the person who gave us this bug and hating MR becuase he didn’t wake up and comfort me. What do I do about Splish Splash? And why does my head still hurt? Well, the Splish Splash thing worked out- MR dropped Zombiegirl off to meet up with the soccer families, and Beena recuperated enough that she and Big J went too. No one wanted to come over for a BBQ becuase I was infected , so I slept all day while MR played on the PC (thanks, Jeff!) I figured while I sleep I can’t throw up. But the minute I woke up- Go! Go! GO!
Did I mention that while my body was betraying me this way I was also bleeding like a stuck pig? So I had all that crap to deal with, too. If I ever meet Eve in the Heaven, I’m going to punch her in the head.
I need vitamins.
No, the title is not describing my physical state, even though after our camping trip I am exhausted. Some vacation- I cook, I clean, I do dishes, I come back more tired than I started. No, the title is this show we found on Hulu.com. MR and I watch a few episodes every time we come out to the beach house (thanks, Jeff!) It’s one of the things we do once Zombiegirl is in bed.
Why this show ran only two seasons and was cancelled is beyond me. We absolutely love it.
I’ll try to give a quick synopsis without giving too much info.
George (Ellen Muth), only 18 years old, is killed in a freak accident. Instead of going to Heaven (or Hell) she becomes a Grim Reaper, and joins a team of other Reapers lead by Rube (Mandy Patankin) . They have to collect the souls of people like you and me who die in other freak accidents so that they don’t experiece too much pain and can move into the “Great Beyond” without too much stress.
Our protagonist is a college dropout who couldn’t find her way in life and is having trouble finding her way in death. She’s cynical and wry and sarcastic- but not in a grating way that makes you dislike her. She’s a teenager who has to learn about life, and death. The team of Reapers is made up of Ruby (Jasmine Guy), a meter maid with an attitude, Mason (Callum Blue), a former drug addict and opportunist and Daisy (Laura Harris), an actress who was better known for her blowjobs than for her screen presence. The Reapers have all died with unresolved issues who aren’t allowed to go into the afterlife until their lives are resolved.
Also trying to resolve George’s death is her family. Joy, her mother, played by Cynthia Stevenson, is a cold and aloof mom who is realizing if she doesn’t change, she’s going to lose her other daughter, Reggie. Reggie (Britt McKillip) is trying to come to terms with her sister’s death- a sister she wasn’t really close to, but still looked up to. This cast is wonderful. They’re annoying and snotty but human and frail, too.
The show was created and produced by Bryan Fuller who was responsible for shows such as Heroes and Pushing Daisies (another show about Death). It’s a black comedy that uses humor to explore loss and loneliness, and mostly, regret. I’ve laughed through some tears, I’ll admit it.
Who would like this show? Anyone who loved Six Feet Under, Dexter, True Blood or Pushing Daisies.