cool beans

I saw this first at Fluid Pudding, who was tapped by the previously-unknown-to-me-but-that-gives-me-no-excuse-to-use-
this-many-hyphens One Demanding Girl at Pretty Crabby. I’m copying them. Because I can.

This is all still true. (12/2006)

Four Jobs You’ve Had in Your Life: Dairy Fairy at DQ, One-Hour Photo Center Specialist, Keno Operator, Youth Service Worker.

Four Movies You Could Watch Over and Over: Raising Arizona, Terms of Endearment, Pulp Fiction, Working Girl.

Four Places You’ve Lived: In a trailer, a roach-infested basement apartment, a tiny and run-down rental home and a house that I call my own but won’t be for another 26 years.

Four TV Shows You Love to Watch: Laguna Beach, Good Eats, Dog The Bounty Hunter, Family Guy.

Four Places You’ve Been on Vacation: Virginia Beach, VA; Asheville, NC; Phoenix, AZ; Kansas City, MO. (Exciting, ain’t it?)

Four Websites You Visit Daily: Bloglines, Set, Google/GMail. I can only think of three I go to daily but I check local obituaries and personals weekly. I have to know who isn’t gettin’ any for whichever reason.

Four of Your Favorite Foods: Chocolate, boneless wings, movie theater popcorn, my mom’s meatloaf.

Four Places You’d Rather Be: Dancing, swimming, in bed, having dinner & drinks with Johnny Depp.

Four Albums You Can’t Live Without: Dave Matthews and Tim Reynolds - Live at Luther College, Snow Patrol - Final Straw, Ani Difrano - Knuckle Down, The Flaming Lips - Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots. (And a mix tape given to me as a birthday present a few years ago. I *heart* mix tapes.)

It has been a wild and crazy week. The kids are out of school, my husband is on vacation from work, I was sick on Tuesday, things were hectic at my job, I went out three nights this week, I’m hungover right now, my daughter got sick last night, the girl and I are missing my husband’s family’s Christmas celebration AND we’re canceling the New Year’s Eve party we were going to have at our house. But I’m still making the Buffalo Chicken Dip. And the pitcher of Wonderful Margaritas.

We interrupt this message to bring you the following:

My friend is visiting from out of state and her mother lives four or so houses away from mine. This friend, who is lovely and gorgeous and rocking just kicked it up a notch by delivering a bowl of her mother’s goulash. Rich tomato sauce, chewy dumplings, and tender bites of falls-apart-in-your-mouth beef.

Last night while my husband suffered with an upset stomach and fell asleep in front of the television, I cleaned the top of our refrigerator. This was no small task, given the heaps of junk that teetered precariously every time we opened and closed the freezer door. Did you know scissors like to fall pointed end first and cordless drills are really heavy? It’s true! Also, how is it possible for a quarter-inch layer of muck to form UNDER piles of things? Can dirt and grease army crawl under stuff? Or is someone routinely lifting the garbage on the fridge to dump dust? I do not understand. I pointed to the top of the fridge this morning and told my husband, “I want it to stay this way this time. Don’t put your crap up there.” He smirked and scratched his butt. Perhaps I can install invisible fence around the top of the refrigerator.

Today is the first day of my four-day weekend. I had Nutella on toast and coffee for breakfast while surfing the Ninnernet. The kids threatened to make me leave this chair, but quickly distracted themselves with the piles of plastic playthings in our basement. This is a Christmas Miracle.

I’ve been keeping up with some new-to-me blogs via Bloglines, but have been either too busy or too lazy to add my favorites to my blogroll. I took a couple minutes this morning to shape that up and if you look to your right, you will see some new links. Some are regular visitors to this site (*smmmmmmmmmmoooches*). Others are victims of my stalking nature and are probably out filing restraining orders against me as we speak (*creepy, creepy stalker noises*).

(Edit: Since this was originally posted, the “blog rental” period has expired. I haven’t chosen to participate again at this time. Please do pay someoneouthere a visit. You’ll be glad you did. Thank you to all who participated. Please note: I still love Canadians. Carry on.) You will also see a new thinga-ma-jig on my sidebar. I am “renting” space to another BlogExplosion member. I love Canadians and I love Canadians who can write even more! The thing I like about her blog is this: It doesn’t need a fancy, colorful, arty template because the writing is very good. I dare you to read two lines and stop there. I love blogs with this trait. Remember when you gradutated to books without pictures? Do you remember thinking the book would be long and boring and difficult to read? And then it wasn’t! It was interesting and exciting and stimulating! Discovering I didn’t need pictures to help tell a story was exciting for me and kept me chomping through the words so the pictures could create themselves on my brain.

Do click through and pay her a visit. While you’re there, be sure to read “The Definition of Excellence”. which I won’t link to because I think the whole idea is to force you to click on the thumbnail link which is over there.—->

Well, my latest entries have been a bit DOOM & GLOOM, haven’t they? It’s not entirely dismal here. For example, I own a car and can afford fuel to drive myself around town. I am not dependent upon 30,000 other people to get me from Point A to Point B. I can read the news and say, “RIGHT ON!” because I do not have to walk. Which is good because I haven’t been working out and walking to work would certainly kill me. I’ve often wished we had public transportation where I live but said a dozen “Thank yous” this week that I don’t rely on them to get where I need to go.

My daughter turned eight today. Hurray for eight! She was all dimply smiles about it, too. Last night at dinner she said, “Seven is so old school.” We had her party on Saturday and she was showered with gifts which included an Easy Bake Oven. I’m off work tomorrow and we plan to bake the generous Easy Bake Oven giving aunt’s head inside the Easy Bake Oven! That’s what we should do. Instead, we will spend the day making goo cakes and then make the aunt eat them in a sort of “Spaghetti Guy From Se7en” manner.

This is where I pause to give a shout out to my girl Kelly Clarkson who sings songs with her clothes mostly on. Kelly, baby, you are looking hot and sexy and such and we can dig it. Please, stay on Hot Stuff Girl Next Door Avenue and do not make any sudden turns into Christina Aguilera Bimbo Boutique which is adjacent to Britney Spears Hoochie Coochie Trailer Park. And for the love of All Things Holy, steer clear of Paris & Jessica’s Cheap Ass Car Wash. Thank you.

I know I’m getting Pulp Fiction from my husband for Christmas because he “hid” it in the drawer where I keep the cloth wipes for The Toddler’s diaper changes. Also, if I don’t get a box from the jeweler for Christmas, I’m buying myself a lawyer. (I swear I didn’t peek inside. I was looking for the camera and found the box. I did NOT open it even though it is killing me.) I bought him a little something, but can’t think of anything else to get him. He’s not helpful, either. Nor is he good at hiding things. Duh.

The Toddler spent Tuesday night throwing up but was unable to barf up a spleen or pancreas like he’d planned. He seemed better all day Wednesday and then he puked again late afternoon Thursday. On the carpet in the bedroom. I had stayed home with him Wednesday and shampooed the carpet in the hall and living room. Now I get to do the bedroom, too! Hurray! LOVE IT! YES!

Tuesday morning when we were getting ready for the day, The Toddler asked me, “Kin nighno onna ninnernet?”

Of course I said yes. Because while I had no idea what he was saying, I’m trying to have a positive attitude. You can’t be positive if you’re saying “no” all the time, can you? When he felt better on Wednesday he said, “Kin nighno onna ninnernet?” again. And I realized this was the real-live version of the Gibberish Question®!

“Kin nighno onna ninnernet?”
“Can I go on the Internet?”

When you ask like that, Mama can’t say no.

My brother leaves tomorrow morning before the sun comes up. I didn’t get to see him enough during his time off. I was hoping to see him tonight again, to watch him play with the kids for a little while. But The Toddler started vomiting late this afternoon and apparently doesn’t plan on stopping until he sees some small, slippery internal organ shoot out.

So I’m heading over to my parents’ house to tell my brother “See you later.” Last time he left for Iraq, he left from another part of the U.S. and I didn’t get to see him go. I guess it wasn’t real to me last time. It’s really real this time and I don’t like the way this feels at all.

Today I took a test that told me I’m batshit crazy. Observe my insanity (and note my favorite parts in slanty type):

Your Existing Situation:
Seeks to express the need for identification in a sensitive and intimate atmosphere where esthetic or emotional delicacy can be protected and nurtured.

Your Stress Sources:
The situation is regarded as threatening or dangerous. Resentful that what she has striven so hard for is being menaced, and disparate because she feels powerless to prevent it–fears that she is going to miss out altogether. Unable to view the situation objectively, but extremely agitated and cannot rest in her attempts to remove this threat to her desires. Over-extended and feels beset, possibly to the point of nervous prostration.

(I looked up “prostration” just to be sure I understood what they were saying. Yes, indeed, “complete physical or mental exhaustion”.)

Your Restrained Characteristics:
Wants to broaden her fields of activity and insists that her hopes and ideas are realistic. Distressed by the fear that she may be prevented from doing what she wants; needs both peaceful conditions and quiet reassurance to restore her confidence. Circumstances force her to compromise and to forgo some pleasures for the time being. Capable of achieving physical satisfaction from sexual activity.

(That last bit is a relief, actually. Though I’d be more capable if I had some peaceful conditions!)

Your Desired Objective:
Needs a peaceful environment. Wants release from stress, and freedom from conflicts or disagreement. Takes pains to control the situation and its problems by proceeding cautiously. Has sensitivity of feeling and a fine eye for detail.

Your Actual Problem:
Needs to achieve a stable and peaceful condition, enabling her to free herself of the worry that she may be prevented from achieving all the things she wants.

Your Actual Problem #2:
Depleted vitality has created an intolerance for any further stimulation, (I would put this part in flashing neon if I knew how) or demands on her resources. A feeling of powerlessness subjects her to agitation and acute distress. Tries to escape from this by relinquishing the struggle, and by finding peaceful and restful conditions in which to recuperate in an atmosphere of affection and security.

(I think that last bit sums me up quite nicely. I am experiencing depleted vitality and am intolerant. *stomps*)
____________________________
Do you think I’m the wackadoodle this quiz suggests? Probably not. Especially if my blog is the only conversation we have because I hold back way too much here. But I feel this brittle. I suppose I could resolve to do something about that this year. I welcome advice and/or bottles of tequila.

We’re still a bit unhealthy over here. We just can’t all kick it at the same time. I’m thankful that the horrible coughing seems to have gone away. As much as I dislike the mucus, it’s better than having kids who think they’re seals at 2am.

Whenever The Toddler has a runny nose, he comes home from daycare with a bright pink cheek. Just the right cheek, though. Not the left one. Because he wipes his nose with his right forearm or his right shoulder. Not the left. I guess this means he’s right handed. Even if he does bat with his left. (And he does. With a real bat, too. Off a tee or from a pitch. He’ll even run imaginary bases. Lots of fun.) I wipe his face down before bed and try to get the crusties off before I smear healing goop on his face. By morning, the redness is all gone. And then he starts wiping his nose with his forearm again. It is The Circle of Mucus.

We’re busy busy as is everyone else, it seems. My son didn’t test last weekend at the Taekwondo rank exam, but he did demonstrate his form and two board breaks. He has to say the names of the board breaks in Korean and I giggle when he does. At the year-end Christmas party, he was honored as one of the outstanding students of the year. His parents were also given a certificate stating they were outstanding parents this year. So, like, it’s official. Step off. I’ve got proof we rock!

My daughter turns eight next week. Eight years ago today, I’m sure I was pressing my hand onto the upper ridge of my belly and pushing downward, trying desperately to dislodge a tiny human from my lung. Today I’m trying to squish alienish mucus out of all our heads. It’s that time of year to be squishing and squashing, I guess! We’re having the grandparents and aunts and uncles over for cake and ice cream on Saturday. This is the first year we considered having her birthday party in January. But we found time between church Christmas program practice in the morning and my company Christmas party in the evening. I haven’t worked out when we’re going to fit in cleaning and baking a cake, but I am at my best under pressure and trust it will work itself out.

Sunday will be Christmas at my mom’s. My brother is home on leave, visiting from his current assignment in Iraq. It will be nice to have him home for a Christmas celebration. So much better than recording the kids opening his gifts and having him view it later.

Even better than that is our plan to go out tonight - just the two of us. Drinking. With the drinks. And the talking and a fair amount of laughing and no thinking about how he goes back on Wednesday.

During the day I feel like I’m drowning, things are so hectic over here. Except the evenings which are dark and quiet and spent in the house keeping my family warm. And humidified, courtesy of the Vicks Vaporizer. (Hard water makes disgusting chunkies in the Vicks. It’s like magic every morning!)

Anyway, somewhere in between running and snuggling, there are some things that are knocking around inside my head.

1. Why did the techtard tell me the specialized piece of office equipment (vague enough for ya?!) wouldn’t actually work the way it looks like it should work when it does indeed work just like that? Hello? Is there a brain in there? Huh? OH! Look! It’s in the MANUAL!
2. I’ve been operating the machine for two years, give or take. I’ve had the manual the entire time. Why didn’t I look in the manual? Why did I believe the technician? Why haven’t I tried this sooner? If I’m this dense about something so obvious, can I really be trusted with the care and upbringing of three human beings?
3. I wonder how much they’re worth. If I were looking to sell them, that is.
4. The Christmas shopping is pretty much done for those three children. Surely that adds to their value? Like hardwood flooring or a relatively newish roof. No?
5. How did Rachael Yamagata’s “Happenstance” get on my list of things I won’t buy for myself? I have no memory of adding that CD to my list o’ wishes. So, I can’t see the obvious and I can’t remember what it is that I want.
6. Can I truly become addicted to the children’s cough syrup? Are they exaggerating when they say it contains “NARCOTIC”? You know me. I exaggerate ALL THE TIME. EVERY SECOND. SEE? Surely they don’t really mean “narcotic” when they say “narcotic”. They just mean, “Ooh. Yummy stuff. Ooh. Yes.” But they say “narcotic” because they’re being funny. Like when I say, “I’m so hungry I could eat my own face.” I don’t mean I’ll eat my own face. Just that I’m really hungry and I’m very funny. And possibly addicted to the children’s cough syrup.

My husband was out playing cards with the boys tonight, so I invited my sister to come hang out with me and the kids. It was a relaxed evening at home, just chillin’ and doing a whole lot of nothing. Around 9:00, The Toddler fell asleep in my lap. While twirling his silky white blond hair between my fingers, I was suddenly inspired to do a sleeping baby makeover. My daughter brought the tiny rubber bands to me and I twisted his hair into sections and made five or six little “ponytails” around the front of his head. He slept through it all. He was even konked out enough after I “fixed” his hair to allow me to make him “dance” in his sleep. “I” want to “use” “more” “quotation” marks “in” this “paragraph.”

Anyhoo. My sister was impressed that my son would stay so soundly asleep while I was twisting and securing several ponies on his head. I told her, “This is the real benefit of co-sleeping. They get so used to you being there and snoring and tossing and turning and laying on them, they don’t care. Then you can do all this fun stuff!”

Is there a point to this? No. But it was fun. He woke up later and saw himself in the mirror in the bedroom and was visibly confused. Pure comedy, kids. Good stuff.

Tomorrow I have an appointment to get my roots covered up. Because I cannot let go of the hair color I had when I was 17. Afterward, my husband and I are taking the kids out of state to visit my grandparents. I’m fortunate to have all four of my grandparents and even more fortunate that they live within minutes of each other.

I could very easily work several hours this weekend instead because work is crazy busy until Wednesday afternoon. During the first few business days of every month, I’m on my feet for 7-8 hours a day and it wipes.me.OUT. Blech. If I stayed and worked, I wouldn’t have the stress of possibly having to work late on Monday and Tuesday evenings, but every weekend from now until January is otherwise booked. I want to visit my grandparents before Christmas has come and gone.

I found this groovy little site earlier this week. The illustrations are adorable. I love it. I haven’t tried them all yet, but I like Bugs and Monkey Slide and should warn you the cow game is brutal, man.

Have a lovely weekend!

It’s late and I should be in bed, but I have a cough that is keeping me up tonight. I haven’t fully recovered since coming down with a cold in October and let me tell you, this is a drag. I’m anxious to be healthy again. No sniffle, no cough, no extra mucus, etc.

Thanksgiving was nice. We spent Thursday with my husband’s extended family on his father’s side. I enjoy his aunts and uncles and we had a good visit with them all. It was the first holiday without Grandma and she was missed. There was some buzz about not having Christmas on Christmas Day and it made me sad and anxious. I was brave enough to say something and it looks like we’ll have somewhere close to go that afternoon after all. My husband’s uncle had a terrible accident with anhydrous ammonia the Tuesday before Thanksgiving. For everything that went wrong, two more things went right. Thank God for that. We narrowly escaped planning a funeral over Thanksgiving. He seems to be on the mend.

The rest of the weekend was weird. Both nice and not nice from moment to moment. The weather was feisty and bipolar. Sunny and pretty through the window. Biting and in-your-face-windy on the other side. Sunday brought rain and then snow and subsequently, ice. We didn’t get the worst of it. (We’re dodging lots of bullets, it seems. We’re all Neo and stuff over here.) On Tuesday I bought myself a winter coat. I haven’t purchased one since my daughter was born? Or while I was pregnant with her, maybe? It’s been at least 8 years and I couldn’t the elastic cuffs, broken clasps and malfunctioning zipper for another winter. When I stopped on my lunch hour on Tuesday, I was happy to see almost all the coats were 50% off. Bonus.

Work has been hectic. It always is around holidays. A day off at the beginning or end of the month usually means I’ll be running to catch up. I got a raise today, so I’m NOT COMPLAINING. That is all.

At home our weekends are pretty much booked until the second weekend in January. December 2004 kicked off some really rough times for me mentally and emotionally. I’m trying to stay mellow and enjoy the good things and let the bad roll off. Instead of lying in bed coughing right now, I’m waiting for the kettle to whistle and digging the stillness of my house in the meantime. Instead of fretting over how much stuff I have to do, I chill.

Each paragraph above could be its own post. There’s much more to tell and record and work out. Hopefully I’ll be able to steal a few minutes here and there to do just that.