So it's a rare occasion that Mike and I get to spend time together in the summer. His job is super busy and he usually leaves the house before I get up (don't get all judge-y, 8 am is not that late to sleep) and he returns after dark, showers and generally falls asleep long before me. So if I can sneak a little bit of couple time in there, I take advantage. Last week advantage took the form of dragging him to town for an appointment we had to keep. But we did lunch first.
We went to a local pizza parlor for their buffet lunch. It was packed and there was this guy with, I kid you not, a Mohawk mullet. For real. Mohawk in the front, mullet in the back. Two hairstyles that never looked good to begin with combined to make something frightful. I wanted to tap him on the shoulder and be all "Dude. The 80's called...they want their hairstyles back." but he was a lot bigger than me so I didn't. If a mullet said, business in the front and party in the back, what did his haircut say? My mom cuts my hair?? Oh, and did I mention that she still wears that snakeskin mini skirt and listens to old Whitesnake tapes?
Aside from the awesome scenery, we discussed other things; the kids and if they were ever going to move out, his work, our upcoming appointment, his work, plans for the 4th, our trip to the ER the night before, his work and oh yeah, my work.
Me: I'm so busy, I feel like I'm never going to get everything done. And now this arm thing. How am I supposed to paint?
Mike: So when are you going to be rich and famous?
Me: I'm already famous. Duh.
Mike: Really...?
Me: Yeah. You have no idea. I got asked to do two guest blog posts this week.
Mike: What does that mean?
Me: It means I write something for someone else's blog.
Mike: Why? So your followers will go to their blogs?
Me: Well, kind of. But also their followers will get to know me. It's mutually beneficial and very nice of them. I'm flattered. Also, I got quoted.
Mike: Quoted?
Me: Yes, we had a discussion on Masters of Horror about this old horror movie The Changeling. And then the guy who started the discussion did a review of it on his blog and he quoted me. Because I'm an expert on horror movies and stuff.
Mike: Really? Like he said "Stacey Turner says..."
Me: No. He said, "My new friend Stacey Turner says..." (Read the review here)
Mike: Well that's kind of cool.
Me: Don't look so surprised. I got fans, yo!
Mike: *nearly chokes laughing at me*
Me: It's not like I have my own Wikipedia page like The Bloggess or anything. But someday..."
Mike: So about the rich part...
Me: I'm working on it baby. Don't worry. I got this...
As soon as I know what day I'm doing my guest posting, I'll be sure to share. And it would be very awesome if some of you would stop by those blogs and have a look-see. Some of you (those squeamish types) are totally excused. A friend of mine told me last week that she can't read my work. She tried to read "The Lamp" but had to stop. I scared someone. Those of you who've been here from the beginning know that my main goal was to scare at least one person. Looks like it's goal accomplished! Whew! That's a load off.
Also, I have a poem being considered for an upcoming poetry magazine issue. Its about as far from my usual writing as you can get. I'll let you know if it pans out.
Happy Friday y'all,
♥Spot
PS for those of you not squeamish...please check out today's Flash Friday post at The Author Spot.
Showing posts with label why do you even read my ramblings?. Show all posts
Showing posts with label why do you even read my ramblings?. Show all posts
Friday, July 8, 2011
Thursday, May 5, 2011
The one where I ramble randomly...
Is there any other way to ramble? I mean, if you have a purpose its not really rambling is it? And these are the circles my brain is going in today. I blame the peach margaritas from last night. So here we go...
Odd facts about my blog:
According to the "stats" I'm hugely popular in Russia. Seriously, more people in Russia view my blog than people in the US. Then there is Hungary and The Czech Republic. I'm not sure why Eastern Europe is so fond of me, but apparently they find me entertaining. Someone told me I should go there on vacation and wear an "I am Spot" t-shirt.
Also according to the "stats" a lot of people found my blog by googling "acting + strangely". I suppose I should be slightly concerned by this, but I'm not. I mean, that kind of describes my blog (and my family) perfectly, doesn't it?
Recent conversations at my house:
Lu: What's a sickle?
Me: It's that thing you can cut grass with. If you're the Grim Reaper.
Sean: That's a scythe.
Me: I know. The sickle is like the junior version.
*****
Me: *reading from my phone* Hey! Guess what somebody just said about me on Twitter? "Do us all a fav. Follow @Spot_Speaks. I know freaking awesome and she's it!"
Lu: Hmmm. Is that so?
Me: Duh. If you read it online it must be true. Everyone knows that.
*****
Me: You guys make it really hard to work.
Sean: No we don't.
Me: Yes you do. I'm just getting into something and one of you will be all "you should make dinner".
Lu: Sean started it.
Sean: No, I asked you "what's for dinner". I can ask that and eat hours later. Lu was the one who was all "I'm starving. Feed the pregnant girl".
Me: and then you guys had to argue about what I should make for dinner. "I don't want burritos." "I don't like Hamburger Helper."
Sean: Whatever. You need me. I remind you to eat and pee. Seriously, if I wasn't here you'd sit there working for days.
Me: It's true. He does ask me if I've eaten and bring me food.
Sean: Yeah. And I hear you mutter "I have to pee". And then an hour later I'm like "didn't you have to pee" and you're all "I totally forgot." And get up and go. Without me, you'd need depends.
Me: He's got a point.
Hope Cinco de Mayo is treating you well,
♥Spot
Odd facts about my blog:
According to the "stats" I'm hugely popular in Russia. Seriously, more people in Russia view my blog than people in the US. Then there is Hungary and The Czech Republic. I'm not sure why Eastern Europe is so fond of me, but apparently they find me entertaining. Someone told me I should go there on vacation and wear an "I am Spot" t-shirt.
Also according to the "stats" a lot of people found my blog by googling "acting + strangely". I suppose I should be slightly concerned by this, but I'm not. I mean, that kind of describes my blog (and my family) perfectly, doesn't it?
Recent conversations at my house:
Lu: What's a sickle?
Me: It's that thing you can cut grass with. If you're the Grim Reaper.
Sean: That's a scythe.
Me: I know. The sickle is like the junior version.
*****
Me: *reading from my phone* Hey! Guess what somebody just said about me on Twitter? "Do us all a fav. Follow @Spot_Speaks. I know freaking awesome and she's it!"
Lu: Hmmm. Is that so?
Me: Duh. If you read it online it must be true. Everyone knows that.
*****
Me: You guys make it really hard to work.
Sean: No we don't.
Me: Yes you do. I'm just getting into something and one of you will be all "you should make dinner".
Lu: Sean started it.
Sean: No, I asked you "what's for dinner". I can ask that and eat hours later. Lu was the one who was all "I'm starving. Feed the pregnant girl".
Me: and then you guys had to argue about what I should make for dinner. "I don't want burritos." "I don't like Hamburger Helper."
Sean: Whatever. You need me. I remind you to eat and pee. Seriously, if I wasn't here you'd sit there working for days.
Me: It's true. He does ask me if I've eaten and bring me food.
Sean: Yeah. And I hear you mutter "I have to pee". And then an hour later I'm like "didn't you have to pee" and you're all "I totally forgot." And get up and go. Without me, you'd need depends.
Me: He's got a point.
Hope Cinco de Mayo is treating you well,
♥Spot
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
The one where I interview Scott Nicholson, horror author and nice guy
Come on in everyone, find a seat, grab a cup of coffee, tea, vodka lemonade, whatever. I'm pretty excited to announce that today we have Scott Nicholson in for a chat. For those of you who don't know Scott, yeah I know there's a few of you non horror fans out there (don't worry...I'm not judging), take a look at his *Amazon.com author page, go on, I'll wait. *taps foot impatiently* Back? Good!
Scott probably doesn't remember this but we actually first met in 2003 on the HWA website. That was back when you didn't have to be a *paid* author to join and I happily paid my member fee and set out to hobnob with people who knew what they were doing. Scott happened to be one of the folks I met and we emailed a few times back and forth. It was just before his book Harvest, now renamed Forever Never Ends, was released. I gave up submitting and homeschooled my children and Scott went on to become a successful author. But what I remembered most about him was that he was a genuinely nice guy. I'm happy to say that he is still a genuinely nice guy whose always willing to help a newbie author out. He's generous with both his time and his advice. So when he contacted me about doing a review of his latest book, Liquid Fear, I was more than happy to help out. Okay, so he gave me a free copy of the book too, but I would have done it anyway! So the review of Liquid Fear is up on my brand new book review blog, See Spot Read. I would encourage all of you to pop over there when we're done here and look around a bit. There's cookies and juice and a review. Okay, there's no cookies and juice. But its the thought that counts, right?
Scott also consented to let me pick his brain so here goes...
1.) I know everyone asks authors where they get their ideas and most authors hate that question, but, at least for me, it’s a legitimate question. I love it when authors include that info in the back of the book. So I won't force you to reveal the inner workings of your mind, but if you'd care to elaborate...
Every book is different, but usually it’s either two ideas jamming together, a character demanding to be born, or a plot that bugs me so much I have to tackle it. In Liquid Fear, it was a combination of research into pharmaceuticals that literally “change your mind” combined with my ongoing interest in psychological research.
2.) You've been writing books for several years now, what do you feel has changed the most about either you're style of writing or the way you go about writing?
I write less to what my “brand” should be and more toward what interests me, because I don’t have to worry about somebody pitching something to somebody else based on one sentence of description instead of the entire story. So basically I am freer to take chances.
3.) I know you've recently quit your day job to become a full time novelist, how has that changed your routine, beyond the obvious, of course?
Well, I am also running a business, but I’ve been doing that from the start. The writing is the product development and manufacturing end, and then there’s the entire process, including getting paid. Not to make it as cold as a factory, but basically I have to do it all, which is fine, because I love it all.
4.) I also see that you have joined your voice to the chorus of authors who are backing away from traditional publishing and going it more on their own. It definitely appears to be working well for you. Do you feel less pressure to conform to industry standards and ideas that way? In that, you don't have to convince an editor to publish your work, you can publish and go right to the audience for approval?
The only pressure is to tell the story the best way I know how, and then get a few trusted opinions and always have a professional proofreader. The only “industry standard” is professionalism, and New York doesn’t have a monopoly on that.
5.) I know that some of your books are based on experiences you've had or places you've been (like the hotel/paranormal conference in Speed Dating with the Dead), does Liquid Fear have any personal connections?
I studied a little psychology and I like to read the casebooks, but Liquid Fear was kind of a hodgepodge of many things. I attended UNC near the Research Triangle Park where the book is mostly set, and I’ve visited every location in the book (Cincinnati, West Virginia, DC). Other than that, this book was just based on research and ideas.
6.) This is a question I want to ask all horror writers...if you see a movie preview or book trailer that is just an absolutely fantastic concept (I always think of 30 Days of Night, vampires, Alaska, 30 days of darkness, brilliant!), do you want to shake your head and go "why didn't I think of that??!" or does it inspire you?
Well, sometimes yes, sometimes no. Like, “Snakes on a Plane.” It’s like, “Cool!” but I would never waste my time watching it because the title does everything for me. Sort of like the previews for a big movie. You know you’ve seen the entire movie in 45 seconds, so why waste $10 and two hours? Other times, it can stay in the back of your mind and maybe influence a direction you want to go. If you’re calculating, you can cash in on a trend—like teen vampires in romantic angst, for example.
7.) Several of my blog readers are aspiring authors or beginning authors themselves. What is your best advice to them, especially horror writers?
Write what you love and turn off the censors. But when you’re done, remember that somebody somewhere has to read it. If you want to sicken your reader, it may not do much to build a fan base. But just be true to yourself and trust that the work will find the people who need it—whether the audience is a few million or a few dozen.
8.) Okay, I know it's cliché, but who are some of your favorite writers, horror or otherwise?
Stephen King is obviously a master, but I also like the older-school stuff like Ira Levin, William Goldman, Jim Thompson, James M. Cain, Shirley Jackson, James Lee Burke, Elmore Leonard, and Dean Koontz.
9.) Finally, what scares you? (Other than taxes and government?)
Anything happening to children. As a father, I invest a lot of the world’s worth in my wife and kids. Anything that threatens my family is something that’s going to die—probably quite slowly and painfully.
10) I know you told me the serious things that scare you, but what about the silly things? I'm irrationally afraid of scarecrows, you? And do you ever scare yourself when writing?
Well, I have some real phobias, like flying. Probably mice are my silliest fear--I just don't like all that scurrying. I have been a little freaked out when I write, but it's more like something is emotionally intense instead of genuinely spooky...but sometimes late at night, you go, "Hmm, what if all this stuff was real?"
2) What is your writing routine? Do you schedule certain hours to write? Do you use a favorite pen, etc?
I pretty much do everything all the time. I just do the next thing when it needs to be done. Now that I make my own schedule, I trust myself to write when I need to, as part of the day. I recently took an entire day off, my first in 15 months, I believe.
Thank you Scott, for the book, for the interview, for all of the help you've given me. I wish you loads more success and continued joy in your work.
Scott lives in the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina, where he tends an organic garden, picks a little bit of guitar, and does some freelance editing when he's not writing. He's living the life of his dreams and is thankful for new friends and new fans. You can visit him at www.hauntedcomputer.com. He also has Twitter and Facebook.
Thanks for joining us for a bit everyone! For my regulars, it's back to our regularly scheduled nonsense tomorrow. For anyone new, please take some time to browse my blog and make yourself at home.
Happy reading,
♥Spot
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
The one where tigers eat zebras and the cat is out of the bag
First, I totally have a confession to make. I'm not nearly as nice and sweet as people think I am. I'm just really really good at biting my tongue and not saying what's actually going through my mind at the time. I find this seriously helpful in dealing not only with the general public, but also with other relationships. And the way that you'll know I'm angry is if I stop talking. No, I'm not deep in thought. No, I'm not just super interested in what you have to say. If I'm not talking in a truly animated fashion and gesturing with my hands, I'm probably pissed off and plotting your slow demise in my next short story. Unless I've been drinking, in which case I'm quite liable to come out with exactly what I'm thinking. Which never ends well, thus the reason I don't drink much. And the reason my husband prefers I don't drink at work functions. Case in point we were discussing someone the other day and I said that I would never drink much around said person as I was afraid the conversation would go much like this~
Me: Do you realize how bad your people skills really are?
Person: I don't know what you're talking about. Besides, you like me.
Me: No. You just think I do, because I happen to have excellent people skills.
And Sean said "Yeah. I can pretty much see the conversation going exactly like that".
And now for the big news I mentioned the other day...I'm going to be a grandma!!! And this is how it happened~
*I'm in my office/family room in the middle of writing a story on the Chilean miners visiting Israel for the holiday season when Lu walks in. I glance up quickly to see who has entered my domain and then look at the clock. It's only 8:30 am which is really early for her to be up on a day she doesn't have to be at work.*
Lu: Remember when you said you'd love me forever no matter what?
Me:*slightly annoyed because I'm pretty sure she's going to ask me to make her a cup of tea and I'm right in the middle of an article* Yes?
Lu:*pulls out two positive pregnancy tests (different brands even) from behind her back and promptly bursts into tears*
Me: Wow. That is so not where I saw this conversation going.
Of course, then I hugged her and we sat in the chair and discussed things. I told her that what we had was a huge case of irony (considering she and Luke had broken up the week before) and that the Universe loved irony. There was no question as to what she'd do, I know her well enough to know she'd keep the baby. She'll live at home and start community college in the fall. Since I work from home, I can watch the baby. She's trying to work on a friendship with Luke so that they can deal well together when the baby comes. She's smart enough to know that a troubled relationship doesn't get better when a baby is added. If it didn't work before it's not going to then.
The timing is off and it sure wasn't in her plan right now, but she's handling it well. Luckily, she'd had the splenechtomy so her ITP is still in remission. She's had two blood tests since she found out she was pregnant and platelets are holding steady at a very high normal. Since she was already on iron for her anemia and folic acid the baby has a good start. And she was already a healthy eater so she's ahead of the game. She sees the doctor for the first time on December 8th but all estimates put her at 7 weeks along. She is already sporting a noticeable baby bump though so she may be farther along. Although, multiples also run on both sides of her father's family.
All the key players (Luke, parents, grandparents, aunts & uncles) have been told so she told me I could share the news with you. Which is awesome, because I was about to bust! I don't even mind the grandma jokes. Much.
And last but not least, a conversation I had with Sean a few days ago~
*we were discussing a certain person and their complete lack of proper responses*
Me: Well a wise woman did tell Mo and I the other day that in 22 years of her line of work she had learned for sure that zebras can't change their stripes.
Sean: of course they can't. It's because zebras are pansies. Take me for instance, I'm a tiger. And I'm not going to change my stripes because I like my stripes. Cause I'm a freakin tiger. And tigers are bad ass. So we don't change our stripes. Zebras try to change but they can't. Because they're zebras. And they're all "I'm gonna stand in this field and hope the tiger doesn't eat me, maybe I blend in with the tall grass". See? Pansies.
Me: I'm pretty sure you lost me back at "I'm a tiger". I don't really understand where you were going with that analogy but um. Okay?
Sean: *head nod, eyebrow raise* That's right. Tigers.
Yeah, it really went down just like that.
Have a happy "day we celebrate how we cheated the Indians out of their land" day!
♥Spot
Me: Do you realize how bad your people skills really are?
Person: I don't know what you're talking about. Besides, you like me.
Me: No. You just think I do, because I happen to have excellent people skills.
And Sean said "Yeah. I can pretty much see the conversation going exactly like that".
And now for the big news I mentioned the other day...I'm going to be a grandma!!! And this is how it happened~
*I'm in my office/family room in the middle of writing a story on the Chilean miners visiting Israel for the holiday season when Lu walks in. I glance up quickly to see who has entered my domain and then look at the clock. It's only 8:30 am which is really early for her to be up on a day she doesn't have to be at work.*
Lu: Remember when you said you'd love me forever no matter what?
Me:*slightly annoyed because I'm pretty sure she's going to ask me to make her a cup of tea and I'm right in the middle of an article* Yes?
Lu:*pulls out two positive pregnancy tests (different brands even) from behind her back and promptly bursts into tears*
Me: Wow. That is so not where I saw this conversation going.
Of course, then I hugged her and we sat in the chair and discussed things. I told her that what we had was a huge case of irony (considering she and Luke had broken up the week before) and that the Universe loved irony. There was no question as to what she'd do, I know her well enough to know she'd keep the baby. She'll live at home and start community college in the fall. Since I work from home, I can watch the baby. She's trying to work on a friendship with Luke so that they can deal well together when the baby comes. She's smart enough to know that a troubled relationship doesn't get better when a baby is added. If it didn't work before it's not going to then.
The timing is off and it sure wasn't in her plan right now, but she's handling it well. Luckily, she'd had the splenechtomy so her ITP is still in remission. She's had two blood tests since she found out she was pregnant and platelets are holding steady at a very high normal. Since she was already on iron for her anemia and folic acid the baby has a good start. And she was already a healthy eater so she's ahead of the game. She sees the doctor for the first time on December 8th but all estimates put her at 7 weeks along. She is already sporting a noticeable baby bump though so she may be farther along. Although, multiples also run on both sides of her father's family.
All the key players (Luke, parents, grandparents, aunts & uncles) have been told so she told me I could share the news with you. Which is awesome, because I was about to bust! I don't even mind the grandma jokes. Much.
And last but not least, a conversation I had with Sean a few days ago~
*we were discussing a certain person and their complete lack of proper responses*
Me: Well a wise woman did tell Mo and I the other day that in 22 years of her line of work she had learned for sure that zebras can't change their stripes.
Sean: of course they can't. It's because zebras are pansies. Take me for instance, I'm a tiger. And I'm not going to change my stripes because I like my stripes. Cause I'm a freakin tiger. And tigers are bad ass. So we don't change our stripes. Zebras try to change but they can't. Because they're zebras. And they're all "I'm gonna stand in this field and hope the tiger doesn't eat me, maybe I blend in with the tall grass". See? Pansies.
Me: I'm pretty sure you lost me back at "I'm a tiger". I don't really understand where you were going with that analogy but um. Okay?
Sean: *head nod, eyebrow raise* That's right. Tigers.
Yeah, it really went down just like that.
Have a happy "day we celebrate how we cheated the Indians out of their land" day!
♥Spot
Friday, November 5, 2010
The one where we talk less about weight and more about self-confidence
Hello bloggy peeps! Remember me? Yeah, I don’t blame you at all. I have been seriously neglectful of this blog and since it’s the very thing that got me so far to begin with that is truly unforgivable. But I think I’ve kicked the case of “bloggy blues” that I seem to have been suffering with lately. (And it wasn’t just me. Did you notice how many other bloggers seemed to have struggling lately? Must have been some sort of weird co-alignment of the planets). But I’m back and hopefully to stay this time.
Now, normally you know I don’t do a lot of reactionary pieces. I respect everyone’s right to have an opinion that differs from mine and don’t find a lot of fulfillment in arguing just for the sake of argument. But I feel I must speak up this time. If you’ve been on the webs at all in the last week, you’ve heard about the horrible blog at Marie Claire bashing fat people. It’s gotten a lot of attention and evoked horror from most people. I was content to ignore it. People are dumb, right? Then I read it. And while the author did say some insensitive things, I don't think she truly meant to hurt people. (But you totally spelled "heroin" wrong, sweetie. There's no "e" on the end of the drug). But then I happened to have my attention called to another blogger’s response to the article. I know she was trying to be helpful, but her blog was almost as bad. She says that the times in her life when she’s been fat, she felt invisible. That most people ignore fat people. Girl, you could not be more wrong!
First, I don’t think anyone who claims to have been overweight for roughly three years out of her life knows much about being fat. And the author completely fesses up that at these times in her life she’s been miserable, hating her own body and desperately wanting to change. So of course when she goes out into the world, armed with her horrible self-image and expecting to be treated poorly, she seems invisible. That has more to do with attitude than extra weight.
Let’s get this straight. I am a big girl. I’m not morbidly obese, but I’m no one’s idea of thin. I have been thinner in the past. High school, after my first baby, after my second baby. Oh don’t get me wrong; I was never a skin and bones girl. I was curvy. And always, I had to be careful to maintain that weight. I had to get plenty of exercise and say “no” to desert. Then I got pregnant with my third child and 17 years later I still haven’t lost all that baby weight. Oh here and there I lose a few pounds, then I find them again, and so on. But I am far from miserable in my skin.
I don’t binge eat. I don’t hideout and scarf food where no one can see me. I cook healthy. I don’t fry foods and I don’t eat them if I can avoid it (except for the occasional greasy cheesy goodness from McDs). My blood pressure is good. My cholesterol is low and my heart is healthy. I do not have diabetes or any other weight related health issues. I would like to lose a few pounds but mostly that’s because I’ve been forced into inactivity lately by circumstance and feel better when I can get outside and hike or stay in and play Wii. So I’m heavy, but relatively healthy.
But here’s the thing. I am not invisible. No one treats me badly because of my size. Men still hold doors for me, I still get flirted with and I still feel sexy. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not one of those “fat is sexy” girls who run around in body revealing clothing. I wear age appropriate classic clothing most of the time. (sometimes I splurge on something silly but that’s just my fruit loopness coming out). I feel sexy because I’m self-confident. It has nothing to do with the way I look and everything to do with my personality. People smile at me because I smile at them. I meet their eyes and I don’t look away. I’m friendly and positive. I don’t hide. Want an example? I was at Wal-Mart the other evening and I left Mike and Sean in the hunting department to head over to pick up orange juice. As I walked down the aisle, I saw a guy stocking and he turned, smiled at me and said:
Him: Didn’t you used to work at Waldenbooks?
Me: Yes.
Him: I worked at the calendar store one year.
Me: (I really don’t remember him, but I don’t want to be rude) Oh yeah! Hey! How’re you doing?
Him: Great. Wow. It’s really good to see you!
Me: You too. Take care.
And I strolled on, apparently quite visible. The topper? It was the day I’d been in the ER, so my hair was slightly messy; I was wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt, obviously completely un-ravishing. But it was probably my personality that he remembered not my beauty.
And now, lets talk about that dirty little secret that no one ever talks about. Skinny doesn’t equal self-confidence. I know just as many skinny girls who are miserable in their own skins as heavy girls. In fact, sometimes I wonder if skinny girls aren’t even more insecure. Skinny girls feel like everyone judges them on their appearance instead of getting to know them. I know because my sister is a stick. Seriously. Like they divided the fat genes in my family 90/10 and I got the 90. Does it mean she’s uber self-confident? Hell no! Does it mean she’s healthier? No. She complains about just as much joint pain as I do, she just won’t go to the doctor and do something about it. My daughter? Size zero. Self-confident? Not as much as I would like. And constantly worried about gaining a pound.
I have skinny friends and I have friends who are way larger than I. So here’s the point. Be you. And be happy being you. You can choose to worry about your size, hair color, height, boob size or weight. Or you can choose not to worry. The choice is yours. Not everyone who’s fat is gross and not everyone who’s skinny is hott. So why don’t we stop discriminating? Why don’t we stop beating each other up over it? Why don’t we learn to base self worth on personality, kindness and accomplishment? Why?
Bottom line: I do not want to see two fat people having sex. I do not want to see two super skinny people having sex. Personally, I don’t want to see anyone having sex. But if I were forced to, I would prefer it were two healthy people, regardless of a few extra pounds more or less. So if fat people gross you out, close your damn eyes and don’t watch.
Be you. Be happy. And don’t let anyone (ever) make you feel bad about it. Regardless of your outer shell, you have what it takes to shine.
Sorry for the length peeps, but if you made it through, you deserve a snack. A snack of your choice-a be it healthy or chocolate.
♥Spot
Now, normally you know I don’t do a lot of reactionary pieces. I respect everyone’s right to have an opinion that differs from mine and don’t find a lot of fulfillment in arguing just for the sake of argument. But I feel I must speak up this time. If you’ve been on the webs at all in the last week, you’ve heard about the horrible blog at Marie Claire bashing fat people. It’s gotten a lot of attention and evoked horror from most people. I was content to ignore it. People are dumb, right? Then I read it. And while the author did say some insensitive things, I don't think she truly meant to hurt people. (But you totally spelled "heroin" wrong, sweetie. There's no "e" on the end of the drug). But then I happened to have my attention called to another blogger’s response to the article. I know she was trying to be helpful, but her blog was almost as bad. She says that the times in her life when she’s been fat, she felt invisible. That most people ignore fat people. Girl, you could not be more wrong!
First, I don’t think anyone who claims to have been overweight for roughly three years out of her life knows much about being fat. And the author completely fesses up that at these times in her life she’s been miserable, hating her own body and desperately wanting to change. So of course when she goes out into the world, armed with her horrible self-image and expecting to be treated poorly, she seems invisible. That has more to do with attitude than extra weight.
Let’s get this straight. I am a big girl. I’m not morbidly obese, but I’m no one’s idea of thin. I have been thinner in the past. High school, after my first baby, after my second baby. Oh don’t get me wrong; I was never a skin and bones girl. I was curvy. And always, I had to be careful to maintain that weight. I had to get plenty of exercise and say “no” to desert. Then I got pregnant with my third child and 17 years later I still haven’t lost all that baby weight. Oh here and there I lose a few pounds, then I find them again, and so on. But I am far from miserable in my skin.
I don’t binge eat. I don’t hideout and scarf food where no one can see me. I cook healthy. I don’t fry foods and I don’t eat them if I can avoid it (except for the occasional greasy cheesy goodness from McDs). My blood pressure is good. My cholesterol is low and my heart is healthy. I do not have diabetes or any other weight related health issues. I would like to lose a few pounds but mostly that’s because I’ve been forced into inactivity lately by circumstance and feel better when I can get outside and hike or stay in and play Wii. So I’m heavy, but relatively healthy.
But here’s the thing. I am not invisible. No one treats me badly because of my size. Men still hold doors for me, I still get flirted with and I still feel sexy. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not one of those “fat is sexy” girls who run around in body revealing clothing. I wear age appropriate classic clothing most of the time. (sometimes I splurge on something silly but that’s just my fruit loopness coming out). I feel sexy because I’m self-confident. It has nothing to do with the way I look and everything to do with my personality. People smile at me because I smile at them. I meet their eyes and I don’t look away. I’m friendly and positive. I don’t hide. Want an example? I was at Wal-Mart the other evening and I left Mike and Sean in the hunting department to head over to pick up orange juice. As I walked down the aisle, I saw a guy stocking and he turned, smiled at me and said:
Him: Didn’t you used to work at Waldenbooks?
Me: Yes.
Him: I worked at the calendar store one year.
Me: (I really don’t remember him, but I don’t want to be rude) Oh yeah! Hey! How’re you doing?
Him: Great. Wow. It’s really good to see you!
Me: You too. Take care.
And I strolled on, apparently quite visible. The topper? It was the day I’d been in the ER, so my hair was slightly messy; I was wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt, obviously completely un-ravishing. But it was probably my personality that he remembered not my beauty.
And now, lets talk about that dirty little secret that no one ever talks about. Skinny doesn’t equal self-confidence. I know just as many skinny girls who are miserable in their own skins as heavy girls. In fact, sometimes I wonder if skinny girls aren’t even more insecure. Skinny girls feel like everyone judges them on their appearance instead of getting to know them. I know because my sister is a stick. Seriously. Like they divided the fat genes in my family 90/10 and I got the 90. Does it mean she’s uber self-confident? Hell no! Does it mean she’s healthier? No. She complains about just as much joint pain as I do, she just won’t go to the doctor and do something about it. My daughter? Size zero. Self-confident? Not as much as I would like. And constantly worried about gaining a pound.
I have skinny friends and I have friends who are way larger than I. So here’s the point. Be you. And be happy being you. You can choose to worry about your size, hair color, height, boob size or weight. Or you can choose not to worry. The choice is yours. Not everyone who’s fat is gross and not everyone who’s skinny is hott. So why don’t we stop discriminating? Why don’t we stop beating each other up over it? Why don’t we learn to base self worth on personality, kindness and accomplishment? Why?
Bottom line: I do not want to see two fat people having sex. I do not want to see two super skinny people having sex. Personally, I don’t want to see anyone having sex. But if I were forced to, I would prefer it were two healthy people, regardless of a few extra pounds more or less. So if fat people gross you out, close your damn eyes and don’t watch.
Be you. Be happy. And don’t let anyone (ever) make you feel bad about it. Regardless of your outer shell, you have what it takes to shine.
Sorry for the length peeps, but if you made it through, you deserve a snack. A snack of your choice-a be it healthy or chocolate.
♥Spot
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
I cannot tell a lie...
So I'm pretty much an idiot I've decided. Now, that may come as a big surprise to some of you, but not so much to others. "Why?" you ask. "What is this idiotic thing you've done Spot?". I've forgotten some things. This really isn't all that unusual of an occurrence for me. I forget things alot. Whether it's because of my age, my fibromyalgia, or my general spaciness I couldn't say. But it is the reason I make notes for myself and write a hundred sticky notes a day so I remember things. But the sad fact is that sometimes I still forget.
So this was going to be a post where I gathered up all the sweet stuff people have awarded me in the last couple of months and do the requirements and pass them out. But...I saved the award pictures, but wasn't smart enough to write down where they came from. Brilliant, huh? So I'm looking at the cute award pics going...??? So I will be doing some hunting and figuring that out and doing that post later this week. But I did receive one over the weekend and since I do remember from whence it came, I'll do it today!
I was quite lucky to have Jimmy over at Just My Opinion, decide that I am honest. Thank you very much Jimmy!! Now, those of you who have been reading this blog for some time, know that my biggest pet peeve is honesty and sincerity, or the lack thereof. I believe honesty is always the best policy. It doesn't have to be brutal, but it does have to be honest. And I pull no punches with this blog. I'm honest with you all, but most of all, I'm honest with myself. So without further ado...
The Rules Are:
1. Thank the person giving you the award.
2. Post a link to their blog.
3. Post the award on your blog.
4. Post 7 tidbits you're readers don't know.
5. Hand it out to ten other bloggers.
6. Post links to their blogs.
7. Post a link letting those bloggers know.
Hmmm...7 tidbits you don't know about me yet? That's a toughie...
1. I've recently started doing freelance writing. I'm not going to get rich anytime soon, but apparently 40 is not too old to start a new career. Especially if it's the one you've always wanted. I have Kathryn to thank for that. She has been a mentor, passing on info, pushing me to get my work out there, and answering zillions of dumb questions about finance stuff, contracts and deadlines. She's an amazing woman who not only believes in "paying it forward", she always does it and encourages others to do the same.
2. I've recently started submitting works of fiction again. Okay, this is the honesty award...I submitted one story to one magazine. I got a lovely rejection email (aren't computers great? You can now be rejected ten times faster!). It made my stomach hurt to submit it (seriously, as soon as I pressed "send", I almost vomited). I haven't submitted since. But I will.
3. I've recently come to the conclusion that I suck at writing movie reviews. Thus the failure of What Spot Saw. They are much harder to write than I thought they'd be. I'm going to delete the blog and just pass along movie info here. I really want to do another blog with some fiction on it.
4. I hate waiting. It makes me horribly insecure. Waiting for a potential employer to get back to me, waiting on a rejection/acceptance letter, waiting on a phone call. Really, I start second guessing, and doubting my abilities until I'm convinced that I'm a failure. I know right? So at odds with my personality.
5. I have 3 tattoos. A really awful one on my back right shoulder of a unicorn on a cliff at sunset. Note to self: NEVER let a man who learned how to tattoo in prison give you a tattoo at your kitchen table. Thankfully, I didn't get hepatitis, but I do have a 'not well done' permanent piece of artwork there. I have a beautiful set of three stars (one for each biological child) on my foot. And the word "mother" in Gaelic~ "mathair" on the inside of my right wrist. They were done at an actual tattoo shop by a wonderful artist. I want at least two more. Seriously, they're addicting.
6. I absolutely adore the ocean even though I live no where near it. I try to visit it at least once a year. I love to swim, but even when I can't, just being near the ocean makes me happy. My dream is to live somewhere on the coast eventually. I'm thinking Maine, because I also love mountains and snow.
7. When I'm really really stressed, I get optic migraines. That means I lose vision in one eye and sometimes it doesn't hurt, but other times it's accompanied by sharp shooting pains in the eye. They are relatively rare, happening only about two to three times a year. I've noticed that only two people stress me out enough to actually cause them...Lu and my mother. Go figure.
Whew! That's done. Can I just tell you how hard that was?? Having done these award things before, I feel like there's not much new to tell. Lu called while I was doing this and I told her I was having trouble and she replied "that's because you tell people everything all the time." She's probably right. I feel like readers who've always read this blog already know everything there is to tell. So I hope I didn't repeat myself or bore you! Now to pass on the fun...
1. Dreamfarm Girl~ her blogs are not only honest, they're inspirational. Her writing, much like her quilting, is spectacular. And the way she can liken life to quilt making is truly exceptional.
2. Unabridged Girl~ Mckenzie is nothing if not honest. She's also a brilliantly talented young writer. I never read her blog, that I'm not amazed by the insight she has for someone under 30. This is one writer that I can't wait to see published. (Note to Mckenzie...I'm totally expecting an autographed copy of your first book...)
3. The Dork Side~ this is a young girl who also tells it like it is. I feel like I've come to know her through reading her posts. I know about her ballroom dancing, her creative crafty side, and her writing inspirations. Plus, she's got an adorable blog design. Get to know her!
4. Buggin Word~ Elly is honest. She's also hilarious. If you think I'm funny, you haven't read Elly. But be warned...there are no taboos on Elly's blog so if you are offended don't come running back, pointing fingers. But if you aren't prudish and like to laugh so hard you nearly pee...go, read Elly.
5. Out Numbered Two to One~ she tells it like it is raising four kids from toddler to teen. Another blog I never fail to giggle at.
6. The Grasshopper Tales~ formerly known as Triplets Plus Two Mommy, is sometimes funny, sometimes poignant. She doesn't hold back and that's why I love her blog.
7. The Nerdy Nomad~ C is always honest in her blogs. Sometimes they are about her life, family or friends. Other times they are beautiful photos with vivid descriptions about her travels. Her blog is never boring!! I didn't even know I how beautiful some of those countries were until I visited them via her blog.
8. The Screenplay~ I'm giving this award to Mark, even though he hasn't been able to blog much lately. Because, he's never held back. He's always given us honest emotion. Many times I've read his posts and cried my eyes out. Both in sympathy for him and his family, but also because he reminds me how blessed I am.
9. Platitude Paradise~ Danica never pulls any punches. She gives it to you straight. I know she's been having a rough time lately and not getting to post much. But when she does, she's honest about what she's going through.
10. Murrmurrs~ I'm new to this lady's blog but from what I've seen, she's as honest as they come. And funny too. I've only been reading her blog a short time, but she's down to earth and makes me giggle.
That was soooo hard! There are many more blogs I could pass this too, but most of them already have it and I think that giving it to people who don't gets them some attention they deserve. I also didn't give it to people who don't play. It seems silly to pass it on if the other person won't do the same. I hope nobody got their feelings hurt, because if I read your blog and comment, than you should know that I think you're honest. Simple as that.
Happy Tuesday!
♥Spot
So this was going to be a post where I gathered up all the sweet stuff people have awarded me in the last couple of months and do the requirements and pass them out. But...I saved the award pictures, but wasn't smart enough to write down where they came from. Brilliant, huh? So I'm looking at the cute award pics going...??? So I will be doing some hunting and figuring that out and doing that post later this week. But I did receive one over the weekend and since I do remember from whence it came, I'll do it today!
I was quite lucky to have Jimmy over at Just My Opinion, decide that I am honest. Thank you very much Jimmy!! Now, those of you who have been reading this blog for some time, know that my biggest pet peeve is honesty and sincerity, or the lack thereof. I believe honesty is always the best policy. It doesn't have to be brutal, but it does have to be honest. And I pull no punches with this blog. I'm honest with you all, but most of all, I'm honest with myself. So without further ado...
The Rules Are:
1. Thank the person giving you the award.
2. Post a link to their blog.
3. Post the award on your blog.
4. Post 7 tidbits you're readers don't know.
5. Hand it out to ten other bloggers.
6. Post links to their blogs.
7. Post a link letting those bloggers know.
Hmmm...7 tidbits you don't know about me yet? That's a toughie...
1. I've recently started doing freelance writing. I'm not going to get rich anytime soon, but apparently 40 is not too old to start a new career. Especially if it's the one you've always wanted. I have Kathryn to thank for that. She has been a mentor, passing on info, pushing me to get my work out there, and answering zillions of dumb questions about finance stuff, contracts and deadlines. She's an amazing woman who not only believes in "paying it forward", she always does it and encourages others to do the same.
2. I've recently started submitting works of fiction again. Okay, this is the honesty award...I submitted one story to one magazine. I got a lovely rejection email (aren't computers great? You can now be rejected ten times faster!). It made my stomach hurt to submit it (seriously, as soon as I pressed "send", I almost vomited). I haven't submitted since. But I will.
3. I've recently come to the conclusion that I suck at writing movie reviews. Thus the failure of What Spot Saw. They are much harder to write than I thought they'd be. I'm going to delete the blog and just pass along movie info here. I really want to do another blog with some fiction on it.
4. I hate waiting. It makes me horribly insecure. Waiting for a potential employer to get back to me, waiting on a rejection/acceptance letter, waiting on a phone call. Really, I start second guessing, and doubting my abilities until I'm convinced that I'm a failure. I know right? So at odds with my personality.
5. I have 3 tattoos. A really awful one on my back right shoulder of a unicorn on a cliff at sunset. Note to self: NEVER let a man who learned how to tattoo in prison give you a tattoo at your kitchen table. Thankfully, I didn't get hepatitis, but I do have a 'not well done' permanent piece of artwork there. I have a beautiful set of three stars (one for each biological child) on my foot. And the word "mother" in Gaelic~ "mathair" on the inside of my right wrist. They were done at an actual tattoo shop by a wonderful artist. I want at least two more. Seriously, they're addicting.
6. I absolutely adore the ocean even though I live no where near it. I try to visit it at least once a year. I love to swim, but even when I can't, just being near the ocean makes me happy. My dream is to live somewhere on the coast eventually. I'm thinking Maine, because I also love mountains and snow.
7. When I'm really really stressed, I get optic migraines. That means I lose vision in one eye and sometimes it doesn't hurt, but other times it's accompanied by sharp shooting pains in the eye. They are relatively rare, happening only about two to three times a year. I've noticed that only two people stress me out enough to actually cause them...Lu and my mother. Go figure.
Whew! That's done. Can I just tell you how hard that was?? Having done these award things before, I feel like there's not much new to tell. Lu called while I was doing this and I told her I was having trouble and she replied "that's because you tell people everything all the time." She's probably right. I feel like readers who've always read this blog already know everything there is to tell. So I hope I didn't repeat myself or bore you! Now to pass on the fun...
1. Dreamfarm Girl~ her blogs are not only honest, they're inspirational. Her writing, much like her quilting, is spectacular. And the way she can liken life to quilt making is truly exceptional.
2. Unabridged Girl~ Mckenzie is nothing if not honest. She's also a brilliantly talented young writer. I never read her blog, that I'm not amazed by the insight she has for someone under 30. This is one writer that I can't wait to see published. (Note to Mckenzie...I'm totally expecting an autographed copy of your first book...)
3. The Dork Side~ this is a young girl who also tells it like it is. I feel like I've come to know her through reading her posts. I know about her ballroom dancing, her creative crafty side, and her writing inspirations. Plus, she's got an adorable blog design. Get to know her!
4. Buggin Word~ Elly is honest. She's also hilarious. If you think I'm funny, you haven't read Elly. But be warned...there are no taboos on Elly's blog so if you are offended don't come running back, pointing fingers. But if you aren't prudish and like to laugh so hard you nearly pee...go, read Elly.
5. Out Numbered Two to One~ she tells it like it is raising four kids from toddler to teen. Another blog I never fail to giggle at.
6. The Grasshopper Tales~ formerly known as Triplets Plus Two Mommy, is sometimes funny, sometimes poignant. She doesn't hold back and that's why I love her blog.
7. The Nerdy Nomad~ C is always honest in her blogs. Sometimes they are about her life, family or friends. Other times they are beautiful photos with vivid descriptions about her travels. Her blog is never boring!! I didn't even know I how beautiful some of those countries were until I visited them via her blog.
8. The Screenplay~ I'm giving this award to Mark, even though he hasn't been able to blog much lately. Because, he's never held back. He's always given us honest emotion. Many times I've read his posts and cried my eyes out. Both in sympathy for him and his family, but also because he reminds me how blessed I am.
9. Platitude Paradise~ Danica never pulls any punches. She gives it to you straight. I know she's been having a rough time lately and not getting to post much. But when she does, she's honest about what she's going through.
10. Murrmurrs~ I'm new to this lady's blog but from what I've seen, she's as honest as they come. And funny too. I've only been reading her blog a short time, but she's down to earth and makes me giggle.
That was soooo hard! There are many more blogs I could pass this too, but most of them already have it and I think that giving it to people who don't gets them some attention they deserve. I also didn't give it to people who don't play. It seems silly to pass it on if the other person won't do the same. I hope nobody got their feelings hurt, because if I read your blog and comment, than you should know that I think you're honest. Simple as that.
Happy Tuesday!
♥Spot
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Aliens & anal probes = reality TV
Thank you all so much for your "get-well" wishes and your prayers for my Grandmother. I'm finally fever free so I'm going to visit her at the hospital today. We should get the results of the needle biopsy of her liver and have a more informative prognosis.
So, the last few posts have been distinctly "un"funny. But as those of you who've been reading this blog for awhile know, things are rarely serious for long at our house. It's just not how we roll. So for today, here's a conversation Sean and I had while watching a program on alien sightings~
Sean: Why are people always claiming that aliens anal-probed them? Seriously, do you think aliens would be that fascinated with our butts? They have the technology to build spaceships and travel through the galaxy and the best their medical team can come up with is an anal-probe? I think not.
Me: Well it's a little known fact that aliens don't have butts. That's why they want to study ours.
Sean: The hell?! Why would you think aliens don't have butts?
Me: Have you seen the drawings people do of aliens? Have you ever once seen one with a butt?? And not once in any sci-fi movie have you ever heard "There's definitely alien life on this planet!", "Why's that Bob?", "Because I just stepped in a big pile of alien sh*t!". Nope. Not once. Therefore, one can only can conclude that they don't have butts.
Sean: That's the most ludicrous thing I've ever heard.
Me: Really?! The most ludicrous thing you've ever heard?
Sean: Okay. Not the most. But it ranks right up there.
Me: Maybe they do the anal probe because they think it's the fastest way to our brains. I mean, if I was intelligent life watching this planet, I'd definitely think most people have their heads up their butts.
Sean: Now see, that theory makes sense. Or...maybe they're micro chipping us.
Me: Ooohh! You mean like they do dogs?
Sean: Exactly. Or like the way Ducks Unlimited bands ducks. They're tracking our migratory patterns.
Me: Maybe we're just like pets to them. Or maybe we're just one super reality TV show.
So what's your theory?
♥Spot
So, the last few posts have been distinctly "un"funny. But as those of you who've been reading this blog for awhile know, things are rarely serious for long at our house. It's just not how we roll. So for today, here's a conversation Sean and I had while watching a program on alien sightings~
Sean: Why are people always claiming that aliens anal-probed them? Seriously, do you think aliens would be that fascinated with our butts? They have the technology to build spaceships and travel through the galaxy and the best their medical team can come up with is an anal-probe? I think not.
Me: Well it's a little known fact that aliens don't have butts. That's why they want to study ours.
Sean: The hell?! Why would you think aliens don't have butts?
Me: Have you seen the drawings people do of aliens? Have you ever once seen one with a butt?? And not once in any sci-fi movie have you ever heard "There's definitely alien life on this planet!", "Why's that Bob?", "Because I just stepped in a big pile of alien sh*t!". Nope. Not once. Therefore, one can only can conclude that they don't have butts.
Sean: That's the most ludicrous thing I've ever heard.
Me: Really?! The most ludicrous thing you've ever heard?
Sean: Okay. Not the most. But it ranks right up there.
Me: Maybe they do the anal probe because they think it's the fastest way to our brains. I mean, if I was intelligent life watching this planet, I'd definitely think most people have their heads up their butts.
Sean: Now see, that theory makes sense. Or...maybe they're micro chipping us.
Me: Ooohh! You mean like they do dogs?
Sean: Exactly. Or like the way Ducks Unlimited bands ducks. They're tracking our migratory patterns.
Me: Maybe we're just like pets to them. Or maybe we're just one super reality TV show.
So what's your theory?
♥Spot
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Dear Blockbuster...we are over!
How could you do this to me? Really? Really?!! I can't believe you even tried to play this game with me. We've been down this road before and it ended badly. But I gave you a second chance. I put the past behind me and we started anew. I thought you'd changed. I really believed in happy endings. I believed in you. And yet, it's come to this. Words cannot express how much you've let me down.
Wasn't I a faithful lover? You know I was. I visited you every time I was in town. Every. Damn. Time. Why? Because I loved you. I spent hours with you...walking up and down the aisles...caressing you shelves, lovingly touching the movies, reading aloud the synopsis. Remember that time, in the horror aisle, when I shouted in unadulterated joy at finding a copy of an obscure horror classic? Remember "Dead and Breakfast"? I guess at least, we'll always have that...
And yes, I know sometimes I left your embrace to visit Library. But it wasn't the same. My love for the two of you is so different. One could not possibly detract from the other. In fact, my love for Library only enhanced my love for you. You shared so many of the same stories.
What really gets me, what cuts me to the very core of my being, is that I introduced you to my children! And they too fell for you. But you've been changing lately, and I could see the writing on the wall. But yet, I persisted in believing in you. I turned away from the lure of the Red Box and stayed true to you. And then this!! How dare you impose a dollar a day fee for every day I'm late bringing back a rental?? WTH?? You know I live far from you. You know I don't intentionally keep the movies longer. You know me!! I thought our relationship was built on trust? But now you've thrown it all away! And for what??! Greed?? Love of the green backed whore??
Well this is it buster. I won't take it!! I'm not going to melt into a hott mess. No. I'm leaving you. Keep your "four nights for four dollars" attitude and play that game with someone else! And an extra dollar for every day over charged to my credit card? Puh-lease! No one else treats me that badly.
I'll get over you. Don't you worry about me. Red Box has been calling my name for months now. And Netflix? Oh yeah I've had my eye on him too. Don't you worry baby, I'll bounce back. But will you??
Take your new rental policy and shove it.
Love, Me
Wasn't I a faithful lover? You know I was. I visited you every time I was in town. Every. Damn. Time. Why? Because I loved you. I spent hours with you...walking up and down the aisles...caressing you shelves, lovingly touching the movies, reading aloud the synopsis. Remember that time, in the horror aisle, when I shouted in unadulterated joy at finding a copy of an obscure horror classic? Remember "Dead and Breakfast"? I guess at least, we'll always have that...
And yes, I know sometimes I left your embrace to visit Library. But it wasn't the same. My love for the two of you is so different. One could not possibly detract from the other. In fact, my love for Library only enhanced my love for you. You shared so many of the same stories.
What really gets me, what cuts me to the very core of my being, is that I introduced you to my children! And they too fell for you. But you've been changing lately, and I could see the writing on the wall. But yet, I persisted in believing in you. I turned away from the lure of the Red Box and stayed true to you. And then this!! How dare you impose a dollar a day fee for every day I'm late bringing back a rental?? WTH?? You know I live far from you. You know I don't intentionally keep the movies longer. You know me!! I thought our relationship was built on trust? But now you've thrown it all away! And for what??! Greed?? Love of the green backed whore??
Well this is it buster. I won't take it!! I'm not going to melt into a hott mess. No. I'm leaving you. Keep your "four nights for four dollars" attitude and play that game with someone else! And an extra dollar for every day over charged to my credit card? Puh-lease! No one else treats me that badly.
I'll get over you. Don't you worry about me. Red Box has been calling my name for months now. And Netflix? Oh yeah I've had my eye on him too. Don't you worry baby, I'll bounce back. But will you??
Take your new rental policy and shove it.
Love, Me
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Okay Universe...I'm waiting...
So today my Hubby left at 5:30 am. He'll be out of town for 3 days. Every year he goes to a Ranger Rendezvous. It's kind of like continuing education for Rangers. They have classes and discuss new standards that were put out by The National Organization for everything from water safety to building standards. His job is actually alot more complicated than people think. And once again, he's teaching a welding class. That's what he did before this job, he was a welder in a factory.
He and the Ranger from the other Boy Scout Camp this council owns head off together every year. Sometimes to a Rendezvous in Wisconsin, sometimes to one near Kansas City. I look forward to this time every year with equal parts anticipation and dread. Anticipation because it gives him a chance to get away, talk to other guys about the frustrations of his job and have them really understand. He comes back with new ideas and new enthusiasm. And the kids and I enjoy the time because we can eat things he doesn't like. And the man is one picky ass eater. The kids pitch in more willingly around the house when he's not home and I get our bed all to myself.
I dread it because something always seems to go wrong. Last year it was the dishwasher. I got up the second morning after he'd left and the kitchen was full of water. After several long distance calls and both Sean and I practically climbing into the dishwasher, we gave up and washed dishes by hand til he got home. Turns out the lime stuff he told me to put through it to clean it, ate a lot of the plastic coating and clogged the drain. Awesome. The year before that I had to take his truck into camp and unlock some doors for some people who were doing some work the next day. The truck got a flat. Luckily, I made it to the parking lot and parked it. Sean and I walked a mile home in the pitch dark. Can we say spooky?? Especially since Sean kept bringing up horror movies we'd seen. The year before that? I was actually hospitalized with pneumonia the week he was gone. Thankfully, my mom had already planned to come that week. Since neither of the kids had drivers licenses at the time, she was a lifesaver.
So this week, I'm waiting for the catastrophe. I'm ready universe, bring. it. on. Unless it comes in the form of 8 or more inches of snow. Then I'm pretty much screwed. I don't know how to plow snow. But at least the pantry's stocked. And there's plenty of firewood. We could wait it out. I think...
♥Spot
PS. In case of a Zombie Apocalypse (don't be laughing, it is an ever present danger) we are also probably screwed. While all of us can shoot, he really is the best shot. He's like a ninja sniper. It's definitely one of the reasons I stay married to him. Mad ninja sniper skillz.
He and the Ranger from the other Boy Scout Camp this council owns head off together every year. Sometimes to a Rendezvous in Wisconsin, sometimes to one near Kansas City. I look forward to this time every year with equal parts anticipation and dread. Anticipation because it gives him a chance to get away, talk to other guys about the frustrations of his job and have them really understand. He comes back with new ideas and new enthusiasm. And the kids and I enjoy the time because we can eat things he doesn't like. And the man is one picky ass eater. The kids pitch in more willingly around the house when he's not home and I get our bed all to myself.
I dread it because something always seems to go wrong. Last year it was the dishwasher. I got up the second morning after he'd left and the kitchen was full of water. After several long distance calls and both Sean and I practically climbing into the dishwasher, we gave up and washed dishes by hand til he got home. Turns out the lime stuff he told me to put through it to clean it, ate a lot of the plastic coating and clogged the drain. Awesome. The year before that I had to take his truck into camp and unlock some doors for some people who were doing some work the next day. The truck got a flat. Luckily, I made it to the parking lot and parked it. Sean and I walked a mile home in the pitch dark. Can we say spooky?? Especially since Sean kept bringing up horror movies we'd seen. The year before that? I was actually hospitalized with pneumonia the week he was gone. Thankfully, my mom had already planned to come that week. Since neither of the kids had drivers licenses at the time, she was a lifesaver.
So this week, I'm waiting for the catastrophe. I'm ready universe, bring. it. on. Unless it comes in the form of 8 or more inches of snow. Then I'm pretty much screwed. I don't know how to plow snow. But at least the pantry's stocked. And there's plenty of firewood. We could wait it out. I think...
♥Spot
PS. In case of a Zombie Apocalypse (don't be laughing, it is an ever present danger) we are also probably screwed. While all of us can shoot, he really is the best shot. He's like a ninja sniper. It's definitely one of the reasons I stay married to him. Mad ninja sniper skillz.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Road trip? You mean grueling descent into hell? Oh sure, I'm in!
Okay...first "whew", *wipes sweat off brow*, No one unfollowed me!! Or unsubscribed from Kindle! I gotta tell you I was sweating it with taking a week off. I meant to blog. I sat down to blog. I wrote blogs in my head. I just didn't get them blogged. We had a super time in Myrtle Beach. And stayed busy. And busy for me = super tired. Plus, my parents really don't get the whole "blogging" thing. So they talked to me while I was online. And they're my parents, so it's not like I can ignore them like I do my children or hubby. So without further ado...
Road trip has always equaled fun in my book. Until now. The trip to Myrtle Beach, SC from Mendon, Il a week ago Monday was pretty much like a glimpse into hell. It's a long trip to begin with...17.5 hours straight through. 17.5 hours in a Grand Am (Lu's car. Better gas mileage). 17.5 hours with my kids. 17.5 hours of rest stop/gas station bathrooms. 17.5 hours of junk food. 17.5 hours of sharing the road with semi-trucks. What the hell was I thinking??! I've made the trip 3 times before, but always with another adult present. This time? Me and two quasi-adult teens. Probably, someone should've slapped some sense into me. But, well, no one did.
I was dreading the drive all weekend before we left. Mostly because it's incredibly long. But also because the weather has been so bad this winter and they were predicting a snow storm for our night of departure. So I plotted a southerly route to hopefully avoid alot of snow. Because, while I love snow, I don't like driving in it. And we're talking tiny Grand Am, not a four wheel drive anything. So our route takes us across the bridge to Hannibal, Mo. Then down to St. Louis, and back into Illinois. We cross through southern Illinois into Kentucky, down into Tennessee. Through Nashville and Chattanooga, into Georgia. Through Atlanta and Augusta and into South Carolina. Then across SC through Columbia to Myrtle. We've been this way before. Sometimes we go through Tennessee to NC and down, but there was a rock slide at Asheville and the interstate is still closed. Plus I was worried about snow in the mountains between Knoxville and Asheville.
Figuring that at some point in time, on the drive, my children will begin to make me crazy, I plan a little revenge. And by revenge, I totally mean torture. Torture in the form of two 80's CDs. Filled with songs that I love. Therefore, insuring they won't. Or so I thought. Damn them. Turns out they liked a lot of the songs. Sean more than Lu, but then that figures. Neither one of them was really down with the Tears for Fears or Pet Shop Boys. But the Police? REO Speedwagon? Madonna? Right up their alleys. And of course I'd thrown in some Simple Minds and Cutting Crew.
So we start out on our journey (read: descent into hell) at ten pm on Monday night. Sean and I had loaded down the vehicle and picked Lu up from work. We got milkshakes and gas and we were on our way. I started the driving, with Lu as a backup driver and Sean firmly ensconced in the navigational seat, armed with MapQuest directions and a trusty Atlas. Into the snow filled night we went. And went and went and kept going. It snowed all the way to Nashville. And not just snowed, but blizzarded at times. I literally drove 30 mph for part of the way. When the semis slow down, you know you better slow down too, because nothing scares those guy. At one point, a red car went blazing past me and the semi I was following (at a safe distance of course). We saw him later in a ditch on the side of the road. I saw lots of people in ditches on the side of the road. I was white knuckling it, let me tell you. At 4:30, I finally drove out of the snow, or so I thought. I whipped into a gas station in Kentucky and after filling up, and hitting the restrooms, Lu took over driving. Both kids had been asleep, Lu for the nearly the entire time, and Sean off and on. I hit the backseat and was out like a light. For 40 minutes. That's when Lu woke me up and said she couldn't see. Yeah, it was snowing again. Alot! So at the next gas station, we switched again. I may or may not have been extremely cranky by this point. I drove on til 8:30 and an hour north of Chattanooga. The snow had finally turned to rain about the time we hit Nashville. We stopped for McD's, gas and restrooms. Then Lu drove and I got some much needed sleep.
We didn't see the sun until we hit the SC border. I'm pretty sure angels sang. I hope Booshy heard me yell "hi Booshy!!" when we passed through Atlanta. Lu drove all the way to Columbia and I took over for the last three hours of the trip. It was dark by the time we got close to Myrtle, and the directions took us on some curvy foggy roads. But finally we arrived at 7 pm SC time. Which means the trip actually took 20 hours. Un-freakin-believable.
That night we unpacked, ate, showered and fell into our beds exhausted. The trip was grueling. But of course, we had some fun too. And that, my friends, is tomorrow's blog...
♥Spot
Road trip has always equaled fun in my book. Until now. The trip to Myrtle Beach, SC from Mendon, Il a week ago Monday was pretty much like a glimpse into hell. It's a long trip to begin with...17.5 hours straight through. 17.5 hours in a Grand Am (Lu's car. Better gas mileage). 17.5 hours with my kids. 17.5 hours of rest stop/gas station bathrooms. 17.5 hours of junk food. 17.5 hours of sharing the road with semi-trucks. What the hell was I thinking??! I've made the trip 3 times before, but always with another adult present. This time? Me and two quasi-adult teens. Probably, someone should've slapped some sense into me. But, well, no one did.
I was dreading the drive all weekend before we left. Mostly because it's incredibly long. But also because the weather has been so bad this winter and they were predicting a snow storm for our night of departure. So I plotted a southerly route to hopefully avoid alot of snow. Because, while I love snow, I don't like driving in it. And we're talking tiny Grand Am, not a four wheel drive anything. So our route takes us across the bridge to Hannibal, Mo. Then down to St. Louis, and back into Illinois. We cross through southern Illinois into Kentucky, down into Tennessee. Through Nashville and Chattanooga, into Georgia. Through Atlanta and Augusta and into South Carolina. Then across SC through Columbia to Myrtle. We've been this way before. Sometimes we go through Tennessee to NC and down, but there was a rock slide at Asheville and the interstate is still closed. Plus I was worried about snow in the mountains between Knoxville and Asheville.
Figuring that at some point in time, on the drive, my children will begin to make me crazy, I plan a little revenge. And by revenge, I totally mean torture. Torture in the form of two 80's CDs. Filled with songs that I love. Therefore, insuring they won't. Or so I thought. Damn them. Turns out they liked a lot of the songs. Sean more than Lu, but then that figures. Neither one of them was really down with the Tears for Fears or Pet Shop Boys. But the Police? REO Speedwagon? Madonna? Right up their alleys. And of course I'd thrown in some Simple Minds and Cutting Crew.
So we start out on our journey (read: descent into hell) at ten pm on Monday night. Sean and I had loaded down the vehicle and picked Lu up from work. We got milkshakes and gas and we were on our way. I started the driving, with Lu as a backup driver and Sean firmly ensconced in the navigational seat, armed with MapQuest directions and a trusty Atlas. Into the snow filled night we went. And went and went and kept going. It snowed all the way to Nashville. And not just snowed, but blizzarded at times. I literally drove 30 mph for part of the way. When the semis slow down, you know you better slow down too, because nothing scares those guy. At one point, a red car went blazing past me and the semi I was following (at a safe distance of course). We saw him later in a ditch on the side of the road. I saw lots of people in ditches on the side of the road. I was white knuckling it, let me tell you. At 4:30, I finally drove out of the snow, or so I thought. I whipped into a gas station in Kentucky and after filling up, and hitting the restrooms, Lu took over driving. Both kids had been asleep, Lu for the nearly the entire time, and Sean off and on. I hit the backseat and was out like a light. For 40 minutes. That's when Lu woke me up and said she couldn't see. Yeah, it was snowing again. Alot! So at the next gas station, we switched again. I may or may not have been extremely cranky by this point. I drove on til 8:30 and an hour north of Chattanooga. The snow had finally turned to rain about the time we hit Nashville. We stopped for McD's, gas and restrooms. Then Lu drove and I got some much needed sleep.
We didn't see the sun until we hit the SC border. I'm pretty sure angels sang. I hope Booshy heard me yell "hi Booshy!!" when we passed through Atlanta. Lu drove all the way to Columbia and I took over for the last three hours of the trip. It was dark by the time we got close to Myrtle, and the directions took us on some curvy foggy roads. But finally we arrived at 7 pm SC time. Which means the trip actually took 20 hours. Un-freakin-believable.
That night we unpacked, ate, showered and fell into our beds exhausted. The trip was grueling. But of course, we had some fun too. And that, my friends, is tomorrow's blog...
♥Spot
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
If you tell the Universe to flip off, it might break your dishwasher.
Because it totally did. Hubby says that actually it's like limescale build up or a pump or something but I know it was the Universe striking back. But again...I managed to tell it to flip off. I went out to eat. What now Universe? What now?! I know you think I'm seriously putting myself in danger taunting the universe but I'm in a rebel kind of mood. Actually, I'm in a really odd mood. So for today's post I'm going to give you conversations from yesterday...
As I said, dishwasher is broken. Hubby got up to the kitchen flooded with water yesterday morning from the dishwasher. He mopped it up (I'm going to guess that alot of foul language accompanied this...but I slept through it so I can't say for sure.) He then obsessed about the dishwasher. I mean he worked on it all day. He didn't even come to dinner and the movies with me and the kids last night. So yesterday afternoon, I get up and walk through the kitchen...he's doing dishes...
Me: What are you doing?
Hubby: Dishes.
Me: Why?
Hubby: because I'm trying to fix the dishwasher and I had to take the dirty dishes out of it.
Me: Why didn't you just holler for me? I would have done them.
Hubby: Because it's personal. This is between me and the effing dishwasher.
Me: Oh. I see. (but really I don't). Well why aren't you using the dishpan? (said blue dishpan is sitting on the counter and the sink is full of suds).
Hubby: because I can fit more in the sink without it. I hate the dishpan.
Me: Uh huh. Well I've never seen you do the dishes without the dishpan.
Hubby: When was the last time you saw me do dishes?
Me: Good point. (it was like maybe never ago).
As I'm downstairs folding clean laundry and changing loads, Sean sticks his head in the room and asks what time we're leaving. Then we begin to discuss stuff we really need to start working on for him to finish school this semester...
Sean: We really need to get some sort of routine.
Me: I have a routine.
Sean: No you don't.
Me: Um, sure I do. I have stuff that I do everyday. Just not maybe at the same time or in the same order every day. But it all gets done. That's like a routine.
Sean: That's nothing like a routine.
Me: It's kind of sort of like a routine...
Sean: No. It's really not.
Then on the way to town, Sean got a voicemail to call the head of the OA Lodge (boy scout stuff). So he calls and this is his side of the conversation...
The sky. (and by this I know the other person asked "what's up?")
Why what do you need?
You know the usual, crack and strippers.
Saint who?
What saint's church?
What about the new Scout Exec?
Anthony? Okay. See you then.
It turned out they wanted him to do a ceremony at Saint Anthony's church on Saturday. For the new scout executive's son's pack. You got that out of it, right? I hope Homeland Security never taps his phone...
And last but not least, as I was sitting here on the computer, hubby (who's still locked in mortal combat with the dishwasher) yells...
Hubby: Do you have any old toothbrushes?
Me: Um. No. Why would I save old toothbrushes?
Hubby: Do you have any new toothbrushes?
Me: Of course. (I keep lots of new ones, for overnight guests who forget theirs. I like clean breath. And good dental hygiene.) So I get up and go to my bathroom and get my toothbrush because I need a new one like every month. I brush too hard and splay out the bristles. I take it to him.
Me: Here you can have mine.
Hubby: thanks.
Me: But I don't want it back. It's like a gift. There's no return policy.
Hubby: I'm not sure why you felt the need, but I'm glad you clarified that for me.
Me: I'm just a giver. What can I say?
I hope everyone has a wonderful Wednesday and that the Universe doesn't break your dishwasher.
I'm doing a new review on What Spot Saw today.
♥Spot
As I said, dishwasher is broken. Hubby got up to the kitchen flooded with water yesterday morning from the dishwasher. He mopped it up (I'm going to guess that alot of foul language accompanied this...but I slept through it so I can't say for sure.) He then obsessed about the dishwasher. I mean he worked on it all day. He didn't even come to dinner and the movies with me and the kids last night. So yesterday afternoon, I get up and walk through the kitchen...he's doing dishes...
Me: What are you doing?
Hubby: Dishes.
Me: Why?
Hubby: because I'm trying to fix the dishwasher and I had to take the dirty dishes out of it.
Me: Why didn't you just holler for me? I would have done them.
Hubby: Because it's personal. This is between me and the effing dishwasher.
Me: Oh. I see. (but really I don't). Well why aren't you using the dishpan? (said blue dishpan is sitting on the counter and the sink is full of suds).
Hubby: because I can fit more in the sink without it. I hate the dishpan.
Me: Uh huh. Well I've never seen you do the dishes without the dishpan.
Hubby: When was the last time you saw me do dishes?
Me: Good point. (it was like maybe never ago).
As I'm downstairs folding clean laundry and changing loads, Sean sticks his head in the room and asks what time we're leaving. Then we begin to discuss stuff we really need to start working on for him to finish school this semester...
Sean: We really need to get some sort of routine.
Me: I have a routine.
Sean: No you don't.
Me: Um, sure I do. I have stuff that I do everyday. Just not maybe at the same time or in the same order every day. But it all gets done. That's like a routine.
Sean: That's nothing like a routine.
Me: It's kind of sort of like a routine...
Sean: No. It's really not.
Then on the way to town, Sean got a voicemail to call the head of the OA Lodge (boy scout stuff). So he calls and this is his side of the conversation...
The sky. (and by this I know the other person asked "what's up?")
Why what do you need?
You know the usual, crack and strippers.
Saint who?
What saint's church?
What about the new Scout Exec?
Anthony? Okay. See you then.
It turned out they wanted him to do a ceremony at Saint Anthony's church on Saturday. For the new scout executive's son's pack. You got that out of it, right? I hope Homeland Security never taps his phone...
And last but not least, as I was sitting here on the computer, hubby (who's still locked in mortal combat with the dishwasher) yells...
Hubby: Do you have any old toothbrushes?
Me: Um. No. Why would I save old toothbrushes?
Hubby: Do you have any new toothbrushes?
Me: Of course. (I keep lots of new ones, for overnight guests who forget theirs. I like clean breath. And good dental hygiene.) So I get up and go to my bathroom and get my toothbrush because I need a new one like every month. I brush too hard and splay out the bristles. I take it to him.
Me: Here you can have mine.
Hubby: thanks.
Me: But I don't want it back. It's like a gift. There's no return policy.
Hubby: I'm not sure why you felt the need, but I'm glad you clarified that for me.
Me: I'm just a giver. What can I say?
I hope everyone has a wonderful Wednesday and that the Universe doesn't break your dishwasher.
I'm doing a new review on What Spot Saw today.
♥Spot
Saturday, January 23, 2010
The one where Lulu acts like a 5-yr old and Sean tries to get me arrested...
First off...my apologies for not blogging the last two days. Thursday my folks stayed until about 2 before they went home and quite honestly I was too exhausted to do anything else the rest of the day. Like I didn't even cook dinner for my family. My hubby heated me up something in the microwave. I probably lost a corner from my "50's housewife" card or something! But it was a good visit with my parents and there will be more on that in the days to come.
And yesterday? Well I fully intended to blog when I got home from town but again with the tired. Okay. And we decided to watch a movie. But I commented on some blogs so that should totally count for something! We went to town yesterday for my dr. appt, Sean's appt, grocery shopping, to get movies and pick up med refills. It was not the best day ever. I have to go back to the doctor in 2 weeks so that's never good. Sean has a pretty good case of pneumonia. I had to go to 3 different grocery stores. And we never did get to see our friend K and her brand new baby M, which was the sole reason Lulu tagged along to town.
Now most of the time, I adore spending time with my children. With Lulu so recently moved back into the house, the dynamics are slightly off. And both children were slightly cranky yesterday. Sean due to the pneumonia and Lulu, well, because she can be?? So they were bickering with each other as well as me. By the time we hit Sean's appt, I had a headache. But as usual, his visit was a riot. My kids see a Nurse practitioner that they've been seeing since their old doctor retired about 8 years ago. She's a fantastic doctor. She and Sean have always had a very sarcastic relationship. So we leave Lu in the waiting room with her book and go back to the exam room. The nurse tells us that there is an NP in training and is it okay if she sees us first? No prob. She comes in and does her exam. Sean is on his best behavior, oddly enough. When she finishes, his regular NP comes in~
NP: Were you nice to her?
Sean: Of course!
NP: You can be as smartass to me as you like but you better be nice to new people.
New NP: (looks totally confused) He was nice to me.
NP: So what's going on? No. Wait. Let me guess...you have a fever and a cough? Geez. Can't you come up with something new? It's always the same with you. Pneumonia.
Me: He says he knew he was getting sick on Friday last week and still went to the polar bear camp out this weekend.
Sean: well I was already getting sick so what was the difference?
NP: What kind of stupid man logic is that?
Sean: if I stayed home every time I thought I might be getting sick, I'd never go anywhere!!
*** so then the NP stops and discusses some of Lulu's stuff with me for a minute. The outcome being that Lulu needs to get her flu shots and they can work those in today since she's in town with me. Then she turns back to Sean***
NP: Okay, it's all about you again. I'm your most humble servant.
Sean: You are anything but humble.
NP: Watch out pot...you're talking to the kettle. At least I don't need a garage size door to fit my inflated ego head into my house.
***they decide to do blood work to check for mycroplasm (the walking pneumonia germ) even though we all know it will be positive. Sean goes to the lab to get blood drawn and I go to the waiting room to tell Lu the nurse is going to call her to get her flu shots. She has a fit. Seriously, I mean like a five year old. Now, she hates shots but for real?! The H1N1 shot has saved lives this year. Could she be more ridiculous?***
Me: You're all the time wanting to be treated like an adult and right now you're behaving like a spoiled 5-yr old. That is what I'll treat you like.
Lu: Good! I don't care. I don't want flu shots.
Me: You don't want alot of things. That doesn't mean you don't need them. Are you going to make your children get shots?
Lu: Yes.
Me: Well then?
Lu: Not after they're eighteen. The choice should be theirs then.
Me: Why? Quite obviously, the good decision fairy does not come along and tap you on the head just because you turn eighteen.
Lu: *sticks her tongue out at me*
***the nurse comes and gets us. Lu gets numbing spray and shiny band aids. They even offer her a sucker. She whines about her arm hurting. I give up and take them both to lunch at Jimmy Johns. Where I try to ignore Lu as much as possible when you're sitting next to someone. Which leads to me reading the signs on the wall. Then I read one out loud***
Me: We'd love to see you NAKED but state health code requires the wearing of shirts and shoes.
Sean: Huh. Well since pants don't seem to be a requirement I'm not wearing any next time I come here.
Me: I think they just figure most people don't walk around pantless.
Sean: I'm not most people.
Me: Truer words were never spoken.
***Lu does get over her tantrum, although she continues to claim her arm is going to fall off. By the time we get through the second grocery store, I have a monster headache and I just want to go home and put on my pjs. And spend some time not with my children. At the checkout***
Me: You're supposed to push the cart a little around the side Sean.
Sean: well that's not how I do it.
Me: okay but I have to have room to get to the little thingy to write my check.
Lu: you should get a debit card. Checks take forever.
Me: (under my breath) I cannot wait to get home and get away from you two.
Cashier: (starts laughing hysterically)
Sean: What did you say?!
Me: Nothing dear. I love you.
Sean: (looks at cashier all serious like) She beats me.
Cashier: (more laughter)Really?
Me: No one believes you Sean. I think I'd have a better chance convincing people that you beat me.
Sean: show me the bruises.
Me: Oh honey. They're all on the inside.
Thankfully no one was really harmed in the making of this blog. I got about 30 minutes of peace eventually. Later, when I was telling hubby about my day I said~
Me: I'm exhausted. You're kids drove me crazy today.
Hubby: Yeah, I thought you were crazy taking both of them.
Me: Maybe next time you could say something, you know, before I do it.
♥Spot
And yesterday? Well I fully intended to blog when I got home from town but again with the tired. Okay. And we decided to watch a movie. But I commented on some blogs so that should totally count for something! We went to town yesterday for my dr. appt, Sean's appt, grocery shopping, to get movies and pick up med refills. It was not the best day ever. I have to go back to the doctor in 2 weeks so that's never good. Sean has a pretty good case of pneumonia. I had to go to 3 different grocery stores. And we never did get to see our friend K and her brand new baby M, which was the sole reason Lulu tagged along to town.
Now most of the time, I adore spending time with my children. With Lulu so recently moved back into the house, the dynamics are slightly off. And both children were slightly cranky yesterday. Sean due to the pneumonia and Lulu, well, because she can be?? So they were bickering with each other as well as me. By the time we hit Sean's appt, I had a headache. But as usual, his visit was a riot. My kids see a Nurse practitioner that they've been seeing since their old doctor retired about 8 years ago. She's a fantastic doctor. She and Sean have always had a very sarcastic relationship. So we leave Lu in the waiting room with her book and go back to the exam room. The nurse tells us that there is an NP in training and is it okay if she sees us first? No prob. She comes in and does her exam. Sean is on his best behavior, oddly enough. When she finishes, his regular NP comes in~
NP: Were you nice to her?
Sean: Of course!
NP: You can be as smartass to me as you like but you better be nice to new people.
New NP: (looks totally confused) He was nice to me.
NP: So what's going on? No. Wait. Let me guess...you have a fever and a cough? Geez. Can't you come up with something new? It's always the same with you. Pneumonia.
Me: He says he knew he was getting sick on Friday last week and still went to the polar bear camp out this weekend.
Sean: well I was already getting sick so what was the difference?
NP: What kind of stupid man logic is that?
Sean: if I stayed home every time I thought I might be getting sick, I'd never go anywhere!!
*** so then the NP stops and discusses some of Lulu's stuff with me for a minute. The outcome being that Lulu needs to get her flu shots and they can work those in today since she's in town with me. Then she turns back to Sean***
NP: Okay, it's all about you again. I'm your most humble servant.
Sean: You are anything but humble.
NP: Watch out pot...you're talking to the kettle. At least I don't need a garage size door to fit my inflated ego head into my house.
***they decide to do blood work to check for mycroplasm (the walking pneumonia germ) even though we all know it will be positive. Sean goes to the lab to get blood drawn and I go to the waiting room to tell Lu the nurse is going to call her to get her flu shots. She has a fit. Seriously, I mean like a five year old. Now, she hates shots but for real?! The H1N1 shot has saved lives this year. Could she be more ridiculous?***
Me: You're all the time wanting to be treated like an adult and right now you're behaving like a spoiled 5-yr old. That is what I'll treat you like.
Lu: Good! I don't care. I don't want flu shots.
Me: You don't want alot of things. That doesn't mean you don't need them. Are you going to make your children get shots?
Lu: Yes.
Me: Well then?
Lu: Not after they're eighteen. The choice should be theirs then.
Me: Why? Quite obviously, the good decision fairy does not come along and tap you on the head just because you turn eighteen.
Lu: *sticks her tongue out at me*
***the nurse comes and gets us. Lu gets numbing spray and shiny band aids. They even offer her a sucker. She whines about her arm hurting. I give up and take them both to lunch at Jimmy Johns. Where I try to ignore Lu as much as possible when you're sitting next to someone. Which leads to me reading the signs on the wall. Then I read one out loud***
Me: We'd love to see you NAKED but state health code requires the wearing of shirts and shoes.
Sean: Huh. Well since pants don't seem to be a requirement I'm not wearing any next time I come here.
Me: I think they just figure most people don't walk around pantless.
Sean: I'm not most people.
Me: Truer words were never spoken.
***Lu does get over her tantrum, although she continues to claim her arm is going to fall off. By the time we get through the second grocery store, I have a monster headache and I just want to go home and put on my pjs. And spend some time not with my children. At the checkout***
Me: You're supposed to push the cart a little around the side Sean.
Sean: well that's not how I do it.
Me: okay but I have to have room to get to the little thingy to write my check.
Lu: you should get a debit card. Checks take forever.
Me: (under my breath) I cannot wait to get home and get away from you two.
Cashier: (starts laughing hysterically)
Sean: What did you say?!
Me: Nothing dear. I love you.
Sean: (looks at cashier all serious like) She beats me.
Cashier: (more laughter)Really?
Me: No one believes you Sean. I think I'd have a better chance convincing people that you beat me.
Sean: show me the bruises.
Me: Oh honey. They're all on the inside.
Thankfully no one was really harmed in the making of this blog. I got about 30 minutes of peace eventually. Later, when I was telling hubby about my day I said~
Me: I'm exhausted. You're kids drove me crazy today.
Hubby: Yeah, I thought you were crazy taking both of them.
Me: Maybe next time you could say something, you know, before I do it.
♥Spot
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Somedays...
So once again in keeping with my bloggy theme, (I know, me with a theme three days in a row, it's like hell froze over or something) I wanted to share a couple of conversations I've had lately. The first is with my husband the other day after he came back from town and a meeting at the Scout office.
Hubs: So, when people ask me what you're doing now can I tell them about your blog?
Me: Um. Yeah. Why wouldn't you?
Hubs: Well, I don't know.
Me: Unless you're ashamed of it or something? It's not like you're telling people I sell crack cocaine to elementary school children or something. I mean, I can understand keeping something like that a secret.
Hubs: It's just that if I tell them, they might want to read it.
Me: So? That's kind of the point. I blog. Read me.
Hubs: Well, it's just that people will know who you are. You won't be anonymous.
Me: Well since any fifth grader with basic computer skills can figure out my real name I'm really not that concerned. Wait a minute! (the light finally dawns) This isn't about me! This is about you! You don't want your friends to know the shit you pull. Hahaha.
Hubs: Um. No. It's actually about not getting fired because you've trashed my boss.
Me: (slightly subdued) Well, I didn't say his name so he can't sue me for slander. And I didn't sign any contracts with morality clauses or 'don't talk about me on your blog' clauses. So? Ha! But do what you want honey. You can just tell them I'm a writer. Or you can just tell them I'm doing that 50's housewife thing. It's whatev.
Then I had this conversation with Lu~
Me: (very pleased) so one of my followers gave me an award today (It was KT) and she called me a "brave and admirable woman".
Lu: (wrinkling her nose in confusion) why would she say that?
Me: For real? Did you just ask why someone would compliment me??
Lu: No! I mean, I guess I did. But that's not how I meant it. I mean, I think you're brave and admirable, I just don't see how anyone would get that from reading you're blog.
Me: I don't know. I guess mostly people think homeschooling is brave. Although I never thought of it that way. And they think I'm admirable because I haven't killed any of you yet.
And Sean~
Me: I had so many page views yesterday! And I have two new followers.
Sean: Yeah, it's like why people read true crime or watch 48 hours or Snapped! People kind of get addicted to crazy.
Me: Gee Sean, thanks.
I sometimes wonder how I manage to keep my self confidence level so high in such a doubting atmosphere. And then I remember it's because of all the therapy. And vodka lemonade.
♥Spot
Hubs: So, when people ask me what you're doing now can I tell them about your blog?
Me: Um. Yeah. Why wouldn't you?
Hubs: Well, I don't know.
Me: Unless you're ashamed of it or something? It's not like you're telling people I sell crack cocaine to elementary school children or something. I mean, I can understand keeping something like that a secret.
Hubs: It's just that if I tell them, they might want to read it.
Me: So? That's kind of the point. I blog. Read me.
Hubs: Well, it's just that people will know who you are. You won't be anonymous.
Me: Well since any fifth grader with basic computer skills can figure out my real name I'm really not that concerned. Wait a minute! (the light finally dawns) This isn't about me! This is about you! You don't want your friends to know the shit you pull. Hahaha.
Hubs: Um. No. It's actually about not getting fired because you've trashed my boss.
Me: (slightly subdued) Well, I didn't say his name so he can't sue me for slander. And I didn't sign any contracts with morality clauses or 'don't talk about me on your blog' clauses. So? Ha! But do what you want honey. You can just tell them I'm a writer. Or you can just tell them I'm doing that 50's housewife thing. It's whatev.
Then I had this conversation with Lu~
Me: (very pleased) so one of my followers gave me an award today (It was KT) and she called me a "brave and admirable woman".
Lu: (wrinkling her nose in confusion) why would she say that?
Me: For real? Did you just ask why someone would compliment me??
Lu: No! I mean, I guess I did. But that's not how I meant it. I mean, I think you're brave and admirable, I just don't see how anyone would get that from reading you're blog.
Me: I don't know. I guess mostly people think homeschooling is brave. Although I never thought of it that way. And they think I'm admirable because I haven't killed any of you yet.
And Sean~
Me: I had so many page views yesterday! And I have two new followers.
Sean: Yeah, it's like why people read true crime or watch 48 hours or Snapped! People kind of get addicted to crazy.
Me: Gee Sean, thanks.
I sometimes wonder how I manage to keep my self confidence level so high in such a doubting atmosphere. And then I remember it's because of all the therapy. And vodka lemonade.
♥Spot
Saturday, January 9, 2010
I so should have been a southern mama...
So when I logged on today and my MSN homepage popped up it showed the usual little tidbits of news (some not so newsworthy) and there was a link to a "Midwestern Food Quiz" so I took it. And I only got 6 right. Now, I've lived in the Midwest for 22 years and I cook so I'm a little miffed at my results. I guess the problem stems from them lumping a variety of states together and calling it the "Midwest". From Nebraska to North Dakota, Iowa, Illinois and even Ohio. I hate to tell them but we may all be considered "Midwest" but there is a severe lack of cohesion between those states. I mean North Dakota?? That's not Midwest, that's northern! And Ohio? Way too eastern to be considered true northwest. But whatever. The link led me to another quiz..."Southern Food Quiz". Guess what? I scored an 8!
Now, I really am a big fan of the south. My dad's family all hails from the south...Kentucky and Tennessee to be exact. We lived in North Carolina for awhile and South Carolina is my favorite vacation destination. Although, we had a pretty good time in Tennessee too. As I said before, my southern accent comes out strong when I'm angry or whenever I'm south of the Mason Dixon line. It's unintentional, it just happens. And there is always a pitcher of sweet tea in my fridge. Which as everyone knows, is the house wine of the south. (Yeah, that's totally one of the answers to the quiz...consider it a freebie!)
I once dated a boy whose family was from the south. In fact his mama was grooming him to be a Senator from Georgia. The family had political connections and ambitions. She loved me. I wasn't from the south, but I still fit in and she thought I'd make the perfect politician's wife. And the boy? Well, lets just say he'd make a perfect politician. Handsome, charming, sweet talking and not a faithful bone in his body. As it turns out he didn't run for office (yet, I guess there's still time) but he did become a big wig with UPS. (I know because I googled him. Shut up! That's totally not cyberstalking. And besides it was only after some um, well, interesting emails he'd sent me...which I totally kept in case he becomes a politician...) The point is...I can totally pass for southern.
One time, summer before last I believe, Lu and I were laying on the trampoline (it's our favorite tanning spot) and I was reading a book by Jane Green (who is by the by a fantastic author and you should probably read her books). In the book, the husband's mother is southern and the things she says are words they could have taken straight from my mouth. Or my grandmothers, or any southern mother I suppose. I read aloud to Lu in order to make my point. The following conversation ensued:
Me: I totally should have been a southern mother. Should have married S after all. I'd be living in a big old plantation house raising future pageant queens and politicians. Instead of stuck in the middle of nowhere USA.
Lu: (giggling)
Me: Instead I'm here raising a future marine and the future queen of Michael's double wide. Y'all let me know when you need those polyester curtains made, k?
Lu: I'm never going to live in a trailer!!! You know this. Although that is my ringtone on his phone. (Sammy Kershaw's 'Queen of my Double wide Trailer'.)
Me: Whatever...I mean, I totally believe you.
Lu: Besides, you'd hate that life. They'd expect you to behave all the time and you'd have to join junior league or something. Plus your hair frizzes in the humidity. It'd be so much worse down there.
Me: They make hair products for that you know. Besides I'd own that junior league baby!
Lu: Then there's the fact that you hate whiskey. That might be a sin in the south.
Me: Hmm. There is that. I can drink whiskey though if there's something to take the taste out of my mouth. (I got seriously sick drinking whiskey once, now I just can't stomach it. Even the smell makes me want to vomit.)
Lu: And last but not least, you detest Tennessee Williams and Faulkner. I know that's got to be like an extra extra big sin down there. They'd run you out of town!
Me: Well, they're just so depressing! All broody and dark with no redeeming qualities. I'm not changing my mind about them. (I once refused the lead in a play because it was a Tennessee Williams play. I was reassigned to a George Bernard Shaw. I won an award for that one. So there drama professor!)
Lu: See, you might want to stay where you are.
Me: (exiting the trampoline) Whatever.
Lu: where you going?
Me: I'm off to make some chicken salad and sweet tea for lunch before your brother gets back and asks me where his lunch is.
What part of the World do you feel you should live in??
♥Spot
Now, I really am a big fan of the south. My dad's family all hails from the south...Kentucky and Tennessee to be exact. We lived in North Carolina for awhile and South Carolina is my favorite vacation destination. Although, we had a pretty good time in Tennessee too. As I said before, my southern accent comes out strong when I'm angry or whenever I'm south of the Mason Dixon line. It's unintentional, it just happens. And there is always a pitcher of sweet tea in my fridge. Which as everyone knows, is the house wine of the south. (Yeah, that's totally one of the answers to the quiz...consider it a freebie!)
I once dated a boy whose family was from the south. In fact his mama was grooming him to be a Senator from Georgia. The family had political connections and ambitions. She loved me. I wasn't from the south, but I still fit in and she thought I'd make the perfect politician's wife. And the boy? Well, lets just say he'd make a perfect politician. Handsome, charming, sweet talking and not a faithful bone in his body. As it turns out he didn't run for office (yet, I guess there's still time) but he did become a big wig with UPS. (I know because I googled him. Shut up! That's totally not cyberstalking. And besides it was only after some um, well, interesting emails he'd sent me...which I totally kept in case he becomes a politician...) The point is...I can totally pass for southern.
One time, summer before last I believe, Lu and I were laying on the trampoline (it's our favorite tanning spot) and I was reading a book by Jane Green (who is by the by a fantastic author and you should probably read her books). In the book, the husband's mother is southern and the things she says are words they could have taken straight from my mouth. Or my grandmothers, or any southern mother I suppose. I read aloud to Lu in order to make my point. The following conversation ensued:
Me: I totally should have been a southern mother. Should have married S after all. I'd be living in a big old plantation house raising future pageant queens and politicians. Instead of stuck in the middle of nowhere USA.
Lu: (giggling)
Me: Instead I'm here raising a future marine and the future queen of Michael's double wide. Y'all let me know when you need those polyester curtains made, k?
Lu: I'm never going to live in a trailer!!! You know this. Although that is my ringtone on his phone. (Sammy Kershaw's 'Queen of my Double wide Trailer'.)
Me: Whatever...I mean, I totally believe you.
Lu: Besides, you'd hate that life. They'd expect you to behave all the time and you'd have to join junior league or something. Plus your hair frizzes in the humidity. It'd be so much worse down there.
Me: They make hair products for that you know. Besides I'd own that junior league baby!
Lu: Then there's the fact that you hate whiskey. That might be a sin in the south.
Me: Hmm. There is that. I can drink whiskey though if there's something to take the taste out of my mouth. (I got seriously sick drinking whiskey once, now I just can't stomach it. Even the smell makes me want to vomit.)
Lu: And last but not least, you detest Tennessee Williams and Faulkner. I know that's got to be like an extra extra big sin down there. They'd run you out of town!
Me: Well, they're just so depressing! All broody and dark with no redeeming qualities. I'm not changing my mind about them. (I once refused the lead in a play because it was a Tennessee Williams play. I was reassigned to a George Bernard Shaw. I won an award for that one. So there drama professor!)
Lu: See, you might want to stay where you are.
Me: (exiting the trampoline) Whatever.
Lu: where you going?
Me: I'm off to make some chicken salad and sweet tea for lunch before your brother gets back and asks me where his lunch is.
What part of the World do you feel you should live in??
♥Spot
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Like nanny-nanny-boo-boo. Only for writers.
NaNoWriMo...betcha can't say it three times fast! And please, not in my presence. So I signed up for the NaNoWriMo thing. Why you ask? Because I'm a glutton for punishment? Because who doesn't like starting the holiday season already completely bug eyed and sleep deprived? Because...well...because I wanted (still want) to write a novel. And being taunted and pressured has always worked well for me. Really, I'm that girl who got up at 6 am the morning a paper was due and cranked it out in two hours and got an A+, even though others worked on theirs for two weeks and didn't pass. Writing is just what I do. Always have. From the minute I picked up my first crayon and learned to write my name. It's an obsession. I don't write because I want to, I write because I have to. I have dozens of old notebooks filled with bits of writing. A scene here, a dialogue there, an old poem. I breathe, therefore I write. And it's not always good. And it's not always worth saving. Some of it is major crap. But I keep it because who knows, maybe it'll will be inspiration.
I've always wanted to write a novel. I've written poems. I'm really comfortable with short fiction. But a novel seemed like such a stupendous task. That's a lot of words. And a lot of time. And for what? Just because you finished doesn't mean anyone is ever going to read it. See the writing gig seems to me like a crap shoot. Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose. No promises. No guarantees. And honestly, I was super afraid. What if I sat there and nothing came out. And actually, that's never ever happened to me. But the fear is still there. Or what if I started and didn't finish? That seems like an epic fail. Or what if it's no good? I had a million reasons not to try. Until NaNoWriMo. So now that I've started? It's good. And it's fun. I still procrastinate. I'm still behind in my word counts. My plot has taken on a new twist. My characters seem to have a mind of their own. And I'm constantly asking people "what if"? And it feels good.
Now one thing I've always loved is when writers (especially my all time number one favorite, Stephen King) include how they thought of a particular story. Or how they write. You know, what helps them get the ole creative juices flowing. I think it's fascinating to find out how creative people create. So browsing the web last night while trying to sign in to NaNo (don't know whether it was the site or my computer but something wasn't cooperating) I came across this article, How To Write a Great Novel. And it was filled with authors (none of whom I'd ever read but apparently prize winners) and how they write. It was amazing. And the most comforting part? They're all scared. They all have the same insecurity about what if the words don't come? So obviously, I'm in good company. Although I was a little scared by the amount of planning and plotting some do and the elaborate methods. I mean I have a few scribbled post its but no super color coded outline!!
The other thing I pondered last night was when exactly do you call yourself a writer? See to me, I've always thought that it wasn't fair to call yourself a writer until you'd been paid for your work. Or published. Had some kind of recognition of your craft. When people ask what I do, I never say "oh, I'm a writer". I tell them I'm a Domestic Goddess. But I found tons of blogs and homepages through NaNo of other people who do call themselves writers even though they've never published. This is a dilemma for me. Really. Hubby says that since I had poetry published in high school and college newspapers I get to call myself a writer. But I don't know. Maybe I'm still waiting on the validation. What does anyone else think? Do you call yourself a writer? And if so, why? If not, why not? What inspires you? How do you write? Where do you write? Fascinate me...
happy writing to all,
♥Spot
I've always wanted to write a novel. I've written poems. I'm really comfortable with short fiction. But a novel seemed like such a stupendous task. That's a lot of words. And a lot of time. And for what? Just because you finished doesn't mean anyone is ever going to read it. See the writing gig seems to me like a crap shoot. Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose. No promises. No guarantees. And honestly, I was super afraid. What if I sat there and nothing came out. And actually, that's never ever happened to me. But the fear is still there. Or what if I started and didn't finish? That seems like an epic fail. Or what if it's no good? I had a million reasons not to try. Until NaNoWriMo. So now that I've started? It's good. And it's fun. I still procrastinate. I'm still behind in my word counts. My plot has taken on a new twist. My characters seem to have a mind of their own. And I'm constantly asking people "what if"? And it feels good.
Now one thing I've always loved is when writers (especially my all time number one favorite, Stephen King) include how they thought of a particular story. Or how they write. You know, what helps them get the ole creative juices flowing. I think it's fascinating to find out how creative people create. So browsing the web last night while trying to sign in to NaNo (don't know whether it was the site or my computer but something wasn't cooperating) I came across this article, How To Write a Great Novel. And it was filled with authors (none of whom I'd ever read but apparently prize winners) and how they write. It was amazing. And the most comforting part? They're all scared. They all have the same insecurity about what if the words don't come? So obviously, I'm in good company. Although I was a little scared by the amount of planning and plotting some do and the elaborate methods. I mean I have a few scribbled post its but no super color coded outline!!
The other thing I pondered last night was when exactly do you call yourself a writer? See to me, I've always thought that it wasn't fair to call yourself a writer until you'd been paid for your work. Or published. Had some kind of recognition of your craft. When people ask what I do, I never say "oh, I'm a writer". I tell them I'm a Domestic Goddess. But I found tons of blogs and homepages through NaNo of other people who do call themselves writers even though they've never published. This is a dilemma for me. Really. Hubby says that since I had poetry published in high school and college newspapers I get to call myself a writer. But I don't know. Maybe I'm still waiting on the validation. What does anyone else think? Do you call yourself a writer? And if so, why? If not, why not? What inspires you? How do you write? Where do you write? Fascinate me...
happy writing to all,
♥Spot
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
I'd like to thank the academy...
Sorry dear readers (commenters and lurkers alike)! I spent most of yesterday with Mo before she headed back to Iowa. She made us play Clue and watch movies. Dang, I miss that girl. But my attempts to lure her back home with food and mommy cuddles have so far not exceeded the lure of her boyfriend and the freedom of living on one's own for the first time. *sigh*
And I don't have much time this morning as Sean and I both have Dr. appts today. Blah. But we will raid the video store and pick us some fast food so it won't be a total loss.
So today's post is um...well hopefully not a "toot your own horn" kind of thing. But then again it might be. But it's really meant to be a humongous ginormous THANK YOU!!!
First...I recieved another tag for an award. This one came fromSparky. And it is also a Kreativ Blogger one, but since the image is different, I'm still going to accept it. And gratefully, I might add. Because it's my blog and I do what I want!!! So thank you Sparky!!!
Second...Mindy gave me this amazing review over at her blog~
"My cyber-friend, the blogger-extraordinaire a.k.a “Spot” with What Passes for Sane on a Crazy Day has tagged me to answer 35 questions with one word because she thinks I’m “Over the Top!” Which, all I can say is, that speaks volumes coming from her. She’s flippin’ hilarious and authors one of the blogs that I find myself looking forward to reading on a daily basis. Read it. You’ll be glad you did."
And third, Danica gave me a huge shout out and routed people to my poem!~
"You need to go here CLICK RIGHT HERE and read this poem.
I think this is really REALLY good, and I wanted to share (with anyone who didn't already follow "Spot") her delightfully creepy poem.
Just do it - OKAY?? "
I was stunned. Speechless even. Ok, only for about three seconds, at which time I began screaming "hey everybody!!! Come here!!!" Which really only consisted of Sean and the cats because they were the only people here. But Sean did come into the room. And then I pointed out how awesome I was. And he said~
Sean: oh man. Now your head's going to be all big today. You're going to be walking around going "I'm Spot!" in this "aren't I fantastic?" voice. And no one is even going to know what you're talking about.
Me: Oh they know.
Sean: You're right. Maybe you should get a costume. And a cape. And the next thing you know there will be a huge heart symbol in the sky instead of the bat symbol. And there will be "I ♥ Spot" t-shirts and everything.
Me: Oh my! You think so?
Sean: No. So are you going to take a shower or what?
Okay, so he's a smartass. But I totally like the t-shirt idea...
thanks again everyone!
♥Spot
PS- I will post the required things for the blog award next post!
And I don't have much time this morning as Sean and I both have Dr. appts today. Blah. But we will raid the video store and pick us some fast food so it won't be a total loss.
So today's post is um...well hopefully not a "toot your own horn" kind of thing. But then again it might be. But it's really meant to be a humongous ginormous THANK YOU!!!
First...I recieved another tag for an award. This one came fromSparky. And it is also a Kreativ Blogger one, but since the image is different, I'm still going to accept it. And gratefully, I might add. Because it's my blog and I do what I want!!! So thank you Sparky!!!
Second...Mindy gave me this amazing review over at her blog~
"My cyber-friend, the blogger-extraordinaire a.k.a “Spot” with What Passes for Sane on a Crazy Day has tagged me to answer 35 questions with one word because she thinks I’m “Over the Top!” Which, all I can say is, that speaks volumes coming from her. She’s flippin’ hilarious and authors one of the blogs that I find myself looking forward to reading on a daily basis. Read it. You’ll be glad you did."
And third, Danica gave me a huge shout out and routed people to my poem!~
"You need to go here CLICK RIGHT HERE and read this poem.
I think this is really REALLY good, and I wanted to share (with anyone who didn't already follow "Spot") her delightfully creepy poem.
Just do it - OKAY?? "
I was stunned. Speechless even. Ok, only for about three seconds, at which time I began screaming "hey everybody!!! Come here!!!" Which really only consisted of Sean and the cats because they were the only people here. But Sean did come into the room. And then I pointed out how awesome I was. And he said~
Sean: oh man. Now your head's going to be all big today. You're going to be walking around going "I'm Spot!" in this "aren't I fantastic?" voice. And no one is even going to know what you're talking about.
Me: Oh they know.
Sean: You're right. Maybe you should get a costume. And a cape. And the next thing you know there will be a huge heart symbol in the sky instead of the bat symbol. And there will be "I ♥ Spot" t-shirts and everything.
Me: Oh my! You think so?
Sean: No. So are you going to take a shower or what?
Okay, so he's a smartass. But I totally like the t-shirt idea...
thanks again everyone!
♥Spot
PS- I will post the required things for the blog award next post!
Monday, October 26, 2009
Come in for a "spell"
Okay! I do not have hardly any time today. Mo (Lulu) is home today and as usual when she's home we have to go to town and run her fifty two errands. Yes, I know that she's old enough (I mean she lives on her own now. Kinda) to go alone but I enjoy spending the time with her. So, I have a ton of things I'd like to blog but they will have to wait. So today I'm going to give you what I hope is a treat. It's in keeping with my "October Ghosties" series but it's not a ghost story. It's not even a story. It's a ...wait for it...poem. Hey! You in the back of the class! I do not want to hear any groaning! Poetry is good! And you're going to like it! (And if you don't, don't tell me). Just kidding. I'm open to all constructive criticism.
Anyway it's just for fun. We were driving to pick up Mo from girl scout camp one year (I think she was like 10, so eight years ago) and it was an hour and a half drive from where we live. Along this one back road (and I do mean back road) we passed this old cemetery on a hill. And me, being me, and extremely bored, I started writing a poem in my head. And the following poem is what I came up with. I'm also giving you a picture, to set the mood. I hope you enjoy!
The Spell
In an old dark cemetery
Upon a lonely hill
Beside a fallen oak tree
I feel night’s eerie chill.
The moon is full above me
The ground wet beneath my toes
To stand here is to court Death
Or so the story goes.
Two candles sit before me
A stick of incense burning near
I chant a secret litany
My voice rings loud and clear.
It is not fame or fortune
Nor beauty that I seek
It’s for Love I’ve made this journey
To the graves by Deadman’s Creek.
My lover lies with another
Her skin so ghostly white
As I call upon dark powers
To end her life this night.
She stole him with her magic
A bold and daring plan
But not a game she should’ve played
For I hold the winning hand.
Her breath will cease, her soul take leave
Before the dawn’s first light
And I will have my sweet revenge
With the work I do this night.
Her death will not be called a crime
No fingerprints to be found
Although my ma calls it a sin
To wish her in the ground.
And as they put her in her grave
Beside the coffin I will stand
As we walk away that day
I’ll take back my lover’s hand.
It’s sad to have it end this way
A part of me will miss her
Backstabbing lying slut she is
And yet she is my sister.*
So if you’d steal another’s man
Bear my tale in mind
It’s hard to tell just what might happen
If you choose to cross that line.
SMT 07/00
*My sister has never ever tried to steal my man. Just wanted to be clear on that.
And obviously, when I copied the poem it had a date on it. So I guess it was 9 years ago. =]
Hope you enjoyed,
♥Spot
Anyway it's just for fun. We were driving to pick up Mo from girl scout camp one year (I think she was like 10, so eight years ago) and it was an hour and a half drive from where we live. Along this one back road (and I do mean back road) we passed this old cemetery on a hill. And me, being me, and extremely bored, I started writing a poem in my head. And the following poem is what I came up with. I'm also giving you a picture, to set the mood. I hope you enjoy!
In an old dark cemetery
Upon a lonely hill
Beside a fallen oak tree
I feel night’s eerie chill.
The moon is full above me
The ground wet beneath my toes
To stand here is to court Death
Or so the story goes.
Two candles sit before me
A stick of incense burning near
I chant a secret litany
My voice rings loud and clear.
It is not fame or fortune
Nor beauty that I seek
It’s for Love I’ve made this journey
To the graves by Deadman’s Creek.
My lover lies with another
Her skin so ghostly white
As I call upon dark powers
To end her life this night.
She stole him with her magic
A bold and daring plan
But not a game she should’ve played
For I hold the winning hand.
Her breath will cease, her soul take leave
Before the dawn’s first light
And I will have my sweet revenge
With the work I do this night.
Her death will not be called a crime
No fingerprints to be found
Although my ma calls it a sin
To wish her in the ground.
And as they put her in her grave
Beside the coffin I will stand
As we walk away that day
I’ll take back my lover’s hand.
It’s sad to have it end this way
A part of me will miss her
Backstabbing lying slut she is
And yet she is my sister.*
So if you’d steal another’s man
Bear my tale in mind
It’s hard to tell just what might happen
If you choose to cross that line.
SMT 07/00
*My sister has never ever tried to steal my man. Just wanted to be clear on that.
And obviously, when I copied the poem it had a date on it. So I guess it was 9 years ago. =]
Hope you enjoyed,
♥Spot
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)