DragonBlog

Little Disasters...

I seem befallen by tiny disasters as of late. Yesterday morning, the internet was out. While calling the internet provider, I realized that the odd static I was hearing on the line was most likely the cause, so I hung up and dialed the phone company instead. They did some sort of line test and called me back to tell me it all looked fine on their end.

Customer Service Repair Person (CSRP): You probably have a faulty device on the line. You'll have to disconnect everything, unplugging from both the phone line and the wall. This means everything including modems, fax machines, satellite dish connections, portable phones, answering machines, security systems...

Me: Wait, I don't have that many things connected!

CSRP: Well what do you have connected? You must have a modem, since you already told my your internet was down...

Me: Yes, yes. A DSL modem, an answering machine, and some phones. That's basically it.

CSRP: Well you'll have to disconnect them all and plug them all back in one at a time as a process of elimination. When the static comes back, the device you just plugged in is the one with the fault...

Mind you, I heard that entire conversation perfectly. It seems whatever "line test" they did cleared up the static, so now I can't find the culprit anymore. And I know there's still a problem, seeing as how my internet seems to be cutting out once every half an hour!!!

AAAARRRRGGGH !!!!

And then...

This morning, as I went to sit down in my computer chair with a couple of pillows and a cozy little boy who wanted his warm after-breakfast bottle in my arms...

My chair broke.

Something snapped, and then we leeeeeeeeeeeaaaned way over to the right.

Now I'm not obese, mind you, but I'm not an itsy bitsy wisp of a thing either. And I tend to be hard on chairs. I bounce, I lean, I rock, and otherwise live in my computer chair. I spent a goodly amount of money on this one and it's lasted me almost five years now. I love this chair...

And it broke.

*sniff*

Brian's going to see if he can fix it Saturday morning, and if he can't then I have a list of office supply stores we have to pilgrimage to until I find a new chair. Normally I'm the one who fixes things, but he seems to think he may have found the problem whereas I drew a blank when I looked, so we'll see if he can work me a miracle or not. I'm thinking it may be toast. This has no bearing on Brian's ability to fix it, mind you, just my own ability to inadvertantly destroy something I want to keep using. Internet willing, you'll probably get an update on this situation come Saturday night.

And then...

Then, there's the doorbell. Or rather, the neighbor's doorbell. The same neighbor who lost part of a tree when the light pole got knocked over onto their lawn? Yes, those neighbors. Apparently that bit of tree was all that was barring the way between their doorbell receiver and ours, since they are apparently on the same frequency!!! Every time someone at their door rings the doorbell, one of the receivers for ours rings too!! So we rush to check the door for someone else's company an average of once a day! Sheesh...

Only the pizza and Chinese food delivery people ever ring our doorbell. Anybody else we're likely to know the exact time to expect them and we meet them at the door... Yet these people across the street have their doorbell ringing an average of once per day??? I feel so socially inept. Not to mention annoyed. I'm not sure what to do about this one. I have to check, maybe it has a different frequency or something.

Mind you, it rang four times in a row tonight, and we checked the door each of the first three times. But the people across the street didn't get there until the fourth ring (Brian was standing at our door watching the guy across the street stand there waiting at the door by that point). Shouldn't we get to have their pizza if we get there first? Of course then we'd probably have to pay for it too...

*sigh*

Okay... that's quite enough for tonight!

Put it in the circular file...

Well, I was a good little housewife today. I did the laundry and I started the filing project. Which means I'm surrounded by boxes with varying degrees of sorted files. And the majority of them still need to be gone through and have stuff purged out of them. But hey - at least I've started it.

As a result of getting my butt out of my computer chair, I didn't have much time for blogging today. But I also spent some time working on the future look of this site.

Anyway, I've seen other people doing this, mostly on The Mommy Blog, so I thought I'd give it a whirl now and again:

Would you rather:
1. find out your best friend is selling secrets to terrorists OR find out they download child pornography?
Selling secrets. Because that's just more tasteful to talk about when you're turning them in to the police.
2. pluck out all your nose hairs with tweezers OR shave (face or legs) with an old, rusty blade?
Nose hairs, definitely nose hairs. I don't generally do anything with rusty blades.
3. the official language of the united nations become klingon OR esperanto?
Esperanto.
4. have a very "energetic" orgasm every time you sneeze OR fart loudly every time you have an orgasm?
Oh, I think I have to go with sneeze. *blush*

g'night!

Picture this...

I've always wanted to play with photography. I'd love to try developing my own pictures one day too perhaps, but there's just not enough time to try everything. My sister loaned me her Canon AE-1, and I took some pictures with that, but it has a problem with the flash connection and we think there's a light leak too. So I haven't used it in months, seeing as how it only works in good lighting and sometimes the pictures look funny at one end. I've been mourning the loss of my latest hobby and pulled out my cheesy little crap camera that will capture a picture but without any romance and they never quite look like you saw it through the lens.

Yesterday, my father-in-law, who knows about cameras and photography, loaned me one of his cameras! He's going to look at my sister's, and see if that one can be fixed (I'm too scared I'll break it to try messing with it), and he's got his new digital that he's using for most things anyway. So he decided I could use his for now!!!

*spins happily around the room snapping pictures wildly*

Needless to say, I've taken almost an entire roll of film today. Naturally, mostly pictures of my son. Mmmmm. I've learned a way to cheat with Jareth and get him to smile - see he always gets curious about the camera in my hands and looks at it instead of smiling... but I figured out that if I play "peek-a-boo" while hiding and popping back out from behind the camera... he'll eventually give in and giggle. Yay! I have both camera, and a smiling subject! Victory is mine!!!

Oh, and Brian said he didn't mind if I put up a picture that had him in it. So, for your viewing pleasure, I will give you a slightly older picture, but one of my favorite, of my son and my husband (Jareth is at about 6 months here and dressed in a pumpkin costume my mother-in-law found for him for Halloween):

That's my family!!! *melts away into a smiling puddle*

It's all part of the overwhelmed housewife experience...

Some days it all just feels so overwhelming.

Not long ago, on The Mommy Blog , in reference to the cleanliness of her house, she defended herself by reminding us that she's the working spouse. Seeing as, for all intensive purposes, I'm the housewife in my marriage, I find it interesting just how many projects I haven't the time to complete.

I've got filing to do - there's a "filing pile" in our house that's overgrown beyond belief. I also need to purge out the old files (I don't need to know what my phone bill was 6 years ago perhaps?) and store those files I'm supposed to hold onto in nice plastic filing tubs I bought to put in the garage. Woo. What an exciting project too.

I've got to finish remodeling the bathroom, not to mention get started on remodeling projects around the rest of the house. I tend to be more of a "power tool" girl - I oooh and aaah at Home Depot the way some women might rush over to see the new spring line of shoes. I've got a kitchen to tackle, a laundry room and bathroom to redo, and several rooms that just plain need new paint jobs. I've also got plans for some landscaping to happen outside, as there's a tree that has got to go (it's going to take off a gutter soon) and be replaced by some nice low hedge, and I need to redo the beds. Especially since I accidentally murdered all the roses when I moved in. I didn't mean to, but perhaps I should have followed my instinct and looked up how to care for them instead of listening to the previous owner. She was either unclear in how she said it, or hadn't a clue what she was talking about. Only one lonely rosebush survived my hackage with my clippers.

Then there's the boxes and boxes of stuff still in storage, half of which will either get put into a garage sale or donated, and the other half will replace stuff we're currently using as it's better. I desperately want some new dishes so I can get rid of some of my ugly ones, but I know that I have more if I could just get them here from storage. I don't want to be storing crap anymore. I'm in a purge stage.

Speaking of purging, I need to go through my clothes still, and get rid of the items I no longer wear. And I need to pack up the clothes my son has already grown out of to make room for the next set of clothes. I'm still amazed at how many sizes a little boy can rip through in that first year. Not to mention that those sizes never fit him well at the time they said on the tag - he's taller than the sizes are set at.

There's a huge to-do list I have going with about 40 or 50 other things, some large, some small, that I need to get done. But then there's the housewife thing...

Care for child.
Dishes.
Diaper laundry.
Clothes Laundry.
Cooking.
Cleaning. (just the basics mind you)
Grocery Shopping.
Other Errands (Bank, Wal-Mart, GNC, Doctor's, Walgreens, etc.)
etc. (there's always the misc. other stuff that seems to come up)

Sometimes, I look back upon my week and say "What did I do all week??? Where did it go???" This last week, I did the "usual housewifey stuff" and also managed to clean out the linen closet and bathroom cupboards of old stuff and reorganize them, as well as spent one afternoon on some actual paid work. Otherwise, it seems as if the week managed to slip by without me getting much accomplished.

*sigh*

And yet, it's all good. It's all part of my experience.

When I'm reunited with my entire "self" at the end of this lifetime, and I review how it went, I am SO gonna smack myself upside the head for some of this. Next life - I want to be a cute, lovable kitten. And I want an owner who will spoil and pamper me for my whole darn life. Yep. *nod nod* That's what I want. Next time.

G'night.

More filler...

Got my mind bubbling over with some stuff, but I'm not sure how to put it down here just yet. So, more filler. I got some pictures back today and I get the "photo cd" thingy so that I can drop them up here. Here's another picture of my little munchkin, for your viewing pleasure!

Yes, I know it looks like I sliced the edges off with scissors, but I took the picture at an angle so it looked weirder before I rotated it.

Froo-Froo Drink For The Masses...

A few years back, Brian and I took turns going to a bartending school. We both had the idea that we'd be getting jobs as bartenders, seeing as how the school was supposed to also help us get set up finding jobs once we'd finished the class and gotten our certificates. We each had one one-night gig where we bartended, but otherwise the job market was already flooded. And, as much fun as it sounds, I don't think my poor flat feet could hold up to all that standing anymore. Besides, I've forgotten most of the drink recipes. Brian's better at remembering them, but I've stashed them away in a long-term memory brain cell somewhere that has gotten lost in the cobwebs and dust.

But that's okay. Because I "invent" recipes as I go. Thus, I submit the following to the general public at large. Or, rather, the average of six people per day that either come here on purpose or stumble in off a google search.

Amy's Fruit Bowl With A Twist:

6 oz. Pineapple juice
2 oz. Midori
2 oz. Triple Sec
2 oz. Banana Schnapps
1 oz. Amaretto

Add ice and shake to chill. Serve on the rocks in Collins glasses.
Serves 2.

It's mild and fruity and yummy for those who like such froo-froo drinks. Which I frequently do. This was what I came up with last night, and it was both delicious and brought on a warm fuzzy feeling at about the second serving.

It was later, when I (feeling all warm, fuzzy, and thus bold) decided to have those two tequila shots that I got, well, drunk.

Oops.

Fortunately, no hangover.

*knocks on wood repeatedly*

Oh, and when I said I wasn't really hiccuping last night... for some odd reason, after I finished that post, I started hiccuping uncontrollably. That never happens. Weird.

Friday Night...

It's Friday night. And every once in a rare while, on a Friday night, we do a teensy bit of drinking. Since it's Friday night and all... Well, not too much drinking, mind you. Just enough. You know, to take the edge off. To let the inhibitions go far far away. Mmmm.

So, when my sister had car problems tonight, but I knew she was in good hands with my best friend and her car-oriented husband - I wasn't overly concerned. Especially since it's something someone else probably ought to be paying for anyway. Because we already paid to have them fix it. damnit. But I managed to be sober for the conversation. I sobered up. Which made me twice as *drunk* afterwards.

Which gave my dear husband the advantage over me. *heehee*

Don't worry. We waited until our son went to bed before we hit the "hard stuff". And that didn't really kick in until after the conversation with my friend and my sister. When my son gets older we'll have to wait until he's on overnights I suppose, but for now - *giggle* - I'm a wee bit, well, drunk.

No, this is not a common occurance. But, with my luck, I'll probably wake up tomorrow and find this to be the most amusing thing I've ever posted. Damn. I hope not.

Okay, I'll be quiet now. Posting while intoxicated is probably a very very bad idea, but I didn't want to break my run of not missing a day...

*hic* g'night.

*giggle*

I'm not really hiccuping.

The world is kinda fuzzy and warm right now though.

And I'm hungry.

And, oh man, the amount of stories I could be brave enough to share right now is simply astounding!

g'night.

Here I go again...

No, not a rant... just me being ultra-super-frustrated. Was working on the site tonight, hoping to get closer to getting it up and thus fixing the sad state of affairs you see here now. But no, I don't know enough yet to make little dropdown boxes for my links so it doesn't look all crowded. And I keep changing the graphics until I'm going blind with swirly blues mixing with any number of other colors to see how it looks. BAH !!!

I need to look up some more info on html before I can fix it now. I'll be off between nose-in-the-book and search-on-google until bedtime tonight. Hopefully I won't accidentally go too long and dream in code again. *gurgles and chokes*

Nothing much to say today anyway - errands day. Was wet out, but only got drizzled on. Bought stuff. Spent too much on it. Yadda yadda yadda. Kid cute. Cooked dinner. Super spicy. OW spicy. Ate ice cream. Kid still cute. etc...

*yawn*

Moon-eyed Serenade...

I am so easily distracted by my son that I am woefully behind on many many things, the future updates on the look of this website included. I'm also behind on keeping up with those blogs I want to read daily, as the all-important blog-reading time has been during Jareth's breakfast bottle which he has learned to suck down with some intensity and possibly record-breaking speed. I've also been distracted as I'm trying to read a couple of things from their conception - one is someone's blog (I'm up to September of last year, and skimming over some bits to get caught up), and one is this comic which won't excite anyone much unless they avidly play online computer games like EverQuest (which I did for some time). I'm on June of last year on that one. Between playing catch-up on those, and adoring my son, my days zip by without much productive getting done this week. I managed to squeeze in some time on Tuesday for sorting out the linen closet upstairs finally, and then sorting the trash from the recyclables (lots of expired aspirin and such went away) for a half hour after. At least I had the sense of victory when the recyclable bag was bigger than the trash one. Go me!

I also had the vet here today. Both pets got a clean bill of health, and catching the kitty so she could have her shots didn't take as long as last year. Either I'm getting faster or she's getting slower, but I suspect it's the former. Motherhood will make a girl move quick sometimes. The nice thing is that she didn't seem to hold a grudge this time. She usually gets pissed and won't come near me for a day - how dare I allow that man into our home to stab her with those needles again! Within an hour of him leaving she was shmoozing up against me while I lay on the living room floor watching my son playing and "singing" along. "Singing" being an interpretation of the interesting squealing noises he makes while he plays on his musical activity table.

My husband came home early today (planning to help me catch the cat for the vet, and handle the iguana - but the vet showed up a half hour early and was gone before Brian made it home), and joined me on the floor with the cat to watch Jareth continue his performance. Lounging about on the floor sometimes brings out the laziness in the best of us, so there was some discussion about dinner involving a delivery man. But they don't deliver Mexican food, so the next thing we knew we spontaneously packed up a "kiddy meal" for Jareth and headed out to a restaraunt we hadn't been to since we celebrated buying the house, almost two years ago. Last time we were there it was expensive, as we had them bring us "two shots of the best tequila in the house". At six bucks a shot, it was definitely a celebratory drink - but it was damn fine tequila nonetheless.

Simple Coca-Cola was drunk tonight, but the food wasn't the true enjoyment of the evening. It was delightful, but our son proved to be the main event. He was enthralled by his surroundings, thus enthralling us in watching him. There was a fan almost directly above him that made a slow turn 'round and 'round and caught his eye. There were other people to watch. And this was really the first time he sat in one of those restaurant high chairs without some sort of coat stuffed in to keep him upright. I found it interesting how much less room there is on the table when you need a wide swath of empty area to avoid little hands.

And then there was the music. There were three gentlemen with guitars, adding live music and their voices together to complete the atmosphere. Jareth was transfixed. And so were they, when they saw him. On their rounds, traveling about the restaurant to serenade the various tables, they stopped at ours. They didn't serenade us - they serenaded Jareth alone. He watched them with open-mouthed fascination, especially watching as the nearest one's hand strummed across the strings of his guitar, coaxing these wonderful sounds out of it. I can only imagine what was going through his mind. And the three gentlemen sang and played for our little boy, smiling down on him, charmed by his big blue eyes and awed expression. They patted him on the head as they moved on. We had all shared a moment, transfixed, revolving around one little boy.

I think the sad part is, in all the rest of the evening, we're the only table that I heard give those three men any applause. I felt they deserved it. Perhaps I missed others doing it, perhaps the others are so accustomed to going to that restaurant and hearing it that they assume it's part of what they are paying for. But I'll pay to go to a concert or a play and still applaud if I was entertained. Another example of how the "majority" seems to be desensitizing to so many things that happen around them. But who knows... maybe my son can be representative of the next generation? Maybe there's still hope after all...

I want to believe.

The Beautiful Queen Nora...

The veterinarian comes tomorrow. I'm lucky enough to have a vet who makes housecalls. Especially since neither of our pets is too particularly fond of being in a carrier. We have an iguana named G'Quan (pronounced je-kwan, for those who aren't familiar with the show Babylon 5) who is my husband's pet, and my cat, named Nora. We gave them to each other as gifts - the iguana was a birthday present to him and the cat was a Christmas gift for me. And since I feel bad that my kitty must have her yearly shots tomorrow, I thought I'd do her the honor of a proper blog...

The Christmas of 2000, I didn't have a present, per se, to open from my husband. Instead, I found out what my gift was when I opened my gift from my sister-in-law: A starter kit for a kitten, with food, litterbox, toys and other goodies. My husband promised that we'd soon go out to a humane shelter and pick out a new kitten for me. Naturally, I was thrilled and started to imagine the tiny little ball of gray fur I expected to pick out...

I first met Nora after we'd called and been to a few other shelters. We ended up at this one, where we were led into the back to look over the variety of kittens and cats all either sleepy or curiously peering out at us. At the very first cage I got to, a kitten mewed piteously at me and literally stuck her paw out through the bars of the cage to touch my coatsleeve. I looked in, somewhat dubious (and somewhat smitten) by the little black cat, who kept mewing insistently. I very politely explained to her that we'd have to look at all the kittens before we made any decisions, and continued down the aisle persued by the sounds of her little mews calling me back.

Needless to say, she was the only one I asked to have brought out to play with. Her name was Normandy at the shelter. She had me at that first "mew", but she sealed the deal in the "play area" where we got to meet her properly and she batted curiously at the charm on the long necklace I was wearing.

This is the picture the shelter had up on their web site of her and her littermates
(she's the one on the far right):

She was the last one to be taken home. She was six weeks old when we adopted her. I had not expected to be getting a black!! cat, but she'd stolen my heart away. I'd also figured I'd get a short-haired cat, but her long fur is so soft - how could I resist?

That first night, she wasn't content to be left alone in the bathroom - the first room we were planning to introduce her to. Instead, we ended up caving in and letting her have the run of the house. She settled happily in, and has made quick claim to any new place we have lived in since. I re-named her Nora, as I felt it was more ladylike than Normandy, and she crosses her front paws so prettily sometimes that she's probably more a lady than myself. Of course, she's more frequently referred to as Her Royal Highness, Queen Nora I. And trust me, she can dish out the royal "MEW" when she deems it necessary. Her other nickname, however, has been "my little ball of purr", as she just seems to purr all the time.

We've come to some agreements on some things, and she's accepted our young son with relative grace. She's generally shy for the first half hour when people come over, but by the end of the night she's likely to be scoping you out as a potential play buddy. She's often still a kitten at heart, though she's now 3 and a half years old. Here's a relatively recent picture of her, compliments of my father-in-law's digital camera:

She's really hard to take pictures of, being all black. She sort of blends together into this black blob in most of the photos I've tried to take of her. Although, when basking in the sun, she has a slightly reddish tint to her fur sometimes, which looks really beautiful, I can't seem to catch it on film with my current crappy cameras.

Mind you, despite her rather Halloween-inspired coloring, she's terrified of the doorbell, and spends most of the trick-or-treater time hiding under furniture.

So that's the story of my kitty. You've already heard about her mousing antics, but I thought I'd share the story of meeting her. It felt as if she picked me, instead of the other way around, but that's exactly how I had hoped it would feel. And what a wonderful gift for my husband to give me that keeps on giving.

purrrrrr.

g'night.

Another day...

Found this place last night: Epinions.com, while looking for another site that once helped me find the cloth diapers I'm using for my son. I still haven't found the site, which was mostly baby-related reviews, and I was going to add my own, but this one seems like a good idea, as it's ratings, reviews and price comparisons of a variety of products. Something that isn't owned by Amazon.com is always a good thing too, as they seem to be developing some of a monopoly on the internet market for some things. I'm noticing that companies like Fisher Price have some of their products on Amazon, but not all of them. They don't tell you where you can get the other items though - something that is frustrating the bujeezes out of me. Amazon is becoming the Wal-mart of internet - you can find a whole sh*tload of stuff there, just so long as you weren't looking for something specific. Excepting books, music and dvds, Amazon's stock is somewhat limited if you like to compare brands. I found it frustrating when making up the gift registry when I was pregnant, and I still find it frustrating whenever I come up with something I'd like to add to my own gift list. They'll have the item often available, but not the exact one I would like. And, as far as I can tell, no inclination to bother with satisfying little ole' me - after all, I'm just one customer. I'm not the mass majority who will settle for what they're offering.

*sigh* Corporate America sucks. *sigh*

Anyway (/rant off), today's been a quiet day in some ways. Overslept a bit, but I'm not as hard on myself about it on Mondays. I mean - it is a Monday after all - I may not go off to an office, but old habits do die hard on dreading Mondays. I spent some quality time as "furniture" for a sleepy little guy, and otherwise blew some stuff off that I'll just have to get done later. I did fold up some diapers, as we were going to run out early this week and my wonderful husband was sweet enough to dump and re-set the buckets for me last night before bed. I ran the wash last night and tossed them into the dryer before bed, so all I had to do today was fold and put them away. Lovely. I did do a wee bit of tidying up in a couple of spots, but nothing strenuous. Wouldn't want to damage my new-standing rule about doing squat except work on Mondays, after all. Didn't get any work in today, so all was quiet on that end.

Tomorrow, however, will likely be another story.

It was pointed out that my link above didn't work for Quick Shtick Writing. It's all better now. Enjoy!

I'm so smitten...

For some reason, I don't know what to say tonight. Feeling quiet I guess. So I'll leave you with a recent picture of my little guy. Behold:

He looks so concerned. I wonder what he was looking at...

(picture compliments of Doug Howard (my father-in-law), with his nifty digital camera.)

Today was a real rest day...

We have this friend. Every time he comes to visit us, time stops. The dishes sit, the laundry lies, and the computers and television hum with computer games and dvds. Take-out food is acquired, and consumed with great relish. He lives in another state and cannot visit as often as we might like. We worried that our new role as parents would perhaps diminish our abilities as hosts, but we have found that our son is a new addition to our stash of entertaining distractions. He smiles and giggles, and stood on his own!!! for the first time last night, pulling himself up to his feet in front of us all. He's spent the time since mastering his new skill, as well as discovering that some parts of the ground are hard when his balance fails him. Today, though, we played.

I had originally, before knowing we'd have the chance to see our friend this weekend, planned a rigorous schedule of cleaning through some stuff in our bedroom. (I've grown tired of the pile of clothes I don't wear falling into the closet when I try to open it - some are pregnancy clothes, some are the wrong season, some are just out of style for me) I suspect, unless something else pops up as it often does, I'll tackle that task next weekend instead. We had talked about doing some sort of cleaning ritual today - after all, it's the beginning of spring. Rebirth and fertility. There are buds on the tree out front, so I know things are starting to grow again. It even rose in temperature just enough today to open up the house for a couple of hours and air some of that winter air out. It was quite literally a breath of fresh air.

But we didn't clean. We played. We settled up our characters on the Horizons game, transferring our valuables to our friend so he could make use of them instead of them going to waste when we cancel our accounts. We watched dvds most of the rest of the day. I made ice cream milkshakes for us. Twice. We breezed through an entire half gallon of vanilla ice cream in the process. And we played with our son. He smiled, laughed, stood, and fell down. When he cried from falling, we picked him up and "flew" him in the air until he smiled and laughed again.

It was a lovely day.

Sometimes I miss weekends. It's nice to have a day now and again to remember what I'm missing with all the crap that needs doing around here. I think we might need to schedule in one weekend a month where we don't do squat.

It's not a holiday. But I'll take it.

So, if I'm not up to date on my posting and reading other people's blogs today, forgive me. I've been busy - having a real Saturday.

g'night!

RaynDragon. And all that it implies...

This post has been coming for a while now, but I was too lazy to look up and refresh my memory on the meaning of a few words first:

From dictionary.com:

id n.
In Freudian theory, the division of the psyche that is totally unconscious and serves as the source of instinctual impulses and demands for immediate satisfaction of primitive needs.

e·go n. pl. e·gos
1) The self, especially as distinct from the world and other selves.
2) In psychoanalysis, the division of the psyche that is conscious, most immediately controls thought and behavior, and is most in touch with external reality.
a) An exaggerated sense of self-importance; conceit.
b) Appropriate pride in oneself; self-esteem.

su·per·e·go n. pl. su·per·e·gos
In Freudian theory, the division of the unconscious that is formed through the internalization of moral standards of parents and society, and that censors and restrains the ego.

Now that we've defined these, let me redefine myself as the following instead:

Rayn n. (also sometimes Rayne, Rain, or Ra1n)
In my own (Amyan) theory, the division of my unconscious that has suffered from a lack of true childhood. Also sometimes known as my "fairy" side, this portion of my psyche is both playful and whimsical, often unrestrained when activities such as puddle-jumping (especially during rainstorms) or blowing bubbles are introduced. Rayn is also very like lightning - excited, bright, and constantly zig-zagging about looking for the next place to strike. See also: "Inner Child".

Drag·on n. (also sometimes Drag0n, previously known as Bird)
In Amyan theory, the division of my unconscious that asserts itself in an effort to dominate. The Dragon is most commonly the strong and self-assured among the psyche, and is frequently seen when defense of others close to Amy is required. The Dragon is wise and strong. The Dragon stands tall against adversity and soars proudly, high in the sky.Note: This psyche has replaced the former one known as Bird (see also: RainBird, Rnbrd1), who had wings but could not fly quite as strong or high as the powerful dragon.

A·my n. (also sometimes Sister, Hon, and Amy-My-Love, and Mommy)
In Amyan theory, this division is the most predominant within the psyche. Although bolstered by those previously mentioned, the Amy is the most conscious of the unconscious and attempts to maintain balance between the Rayn and the Dragon. Frequently, the Amy thwarts the attempts of the others by shutting down altogether and doing what will please the majority around her instead of what the Amy really wants. At the moment, the Amy is the "doormat" personality, attempting to maintain some cleanliness of self whilst still letting others wipe their muddy boots on her. Amy hopes to move to the front door (less used than the side door) one day - see also: "Therapy".

In conclusion, we have an ongoing process of finding a balance between the varying psyches within my overall "person". There is, also, the more "spiritual" me, who merely smiles and continues to remind me that "It's all good."

There ya go.

Now why do I feel like I ought to follow this up with a flowchart or PowerPoint presentation?

Don't worry. I won't.

*raising an eyebrow in surprise...*

And to think, I didn't know what to blog today!

Whilst over at Word Shadows, wishing Keith a Happy Birthday, I came upon something intriguing...

Father Jake Stops the World. An Anglican priest blogging? Not what I'd expected to find purely by being nosey about someone else who commented on Word Shadows... But the most recent post at the time caught my eye. A very well-written account of childhood memory. Perusal on a few other posts suggests this might be worthy of some lurking on my part, despite my own spiritual views.

Just seemed an odd thing for me to blogroll, so I thought I ought to mention it before anyone started looking at me oddly. Of course, if Father Jake were to peruse my site, he might be scared quickly off upon discovering my latest fictional spewings writings at DragonBytes.

*looks around guiltily*

eep.

*reminds herself for the umpteenth time that other people's opinions should not weigh so heavily on her... especially when the other people are total strangers whom she is unlikely to ever meet outside of cyberspace.*

nonetheless... eep.

Then again, he does quote The Moody Blues in another post, and I have the bit he used on 8-track somewhere... so what does that say about me? That I so need to clean out my stuff, e-bay the lot, and update to CDs!

*note to self: add The Moody Blues to Amazon Gift List after checking to make sure you don't already have one, which you might*

In other news, my posts may be delayed a bit tomorrow, as I a) have a friend coming to visit us (yay!), and b) might have to run my son to the doctor's if his little... um... wanker? (I'm reading too many british blogs perhaps) doesn't stop being all red and swelling and painful! It happened all of a sudden and scared me! Called the doctor who recommended an antibiotic topical solution and to see how it goes. If it still looks icky, we'll go get the doctor to make it better. *sniffle* My poor little guy!

Mind you, I think I'm doing pretty good so far. In ten months now, I've only called the doctor all worried three times total - and only one of those so far has resulted in a doctor's visit. I think I've managed to not do the overanxious first-time mommy thing, but then I was 12 when my sister was born, so that probably helped break me in.

Ahh, well. I'd better get some sleep. All sorts of potential mischief and mayhem to come tomorrow!

All the little birds in my blogroll...

I may have to start paying for these silly things like my blogroll soon. I'm starting to have so many links that I stopped trying to prioritize them a while ago and threw them into alphabetical order instead. Except now I have so many I can't keep up with all of them on a daily basis...

Which means I need more than one blogroll - one for the ones I check daily, the ones I check "often", the ones I check whenever I'm bored and need a laugh or some deep thought, and the ones that aren't blogrolls at all. Of course, this feature is kindly offered to paying subscribers. *grumble* But it would save me soooo much trouble, as I'm really happy with this one-click-wonder of being able to link up sites I like and such with just a little clickety-clicking. Anyway, I think once we've cancelled our Horizon's accounts officially we'll take a smidge of the money we were spending on that for allowing such little luxuries as blogrolling with features!

Anyway, I had a really interesting topic I wanted to broach on this blog o' mine, but I seem to have forgotten during the flurry of the day. And so, I'll not bore you with useless ramblings as such, but let you get back to your green beer and bad Irish accents (for most who try anyway) whilst I quietly await my bedtime.

Hope your St. Patrick's day was fun, your drivers were sober and your hangovers non-existent... g'night

Speaking of time capsules...

One year from now, I'll get an e-mail.

I sent it to myself.

How bizarre.

You, too, can have this privilege here:

FutureMe.org

One becomes Two...

Slight modifications made from earlier. To My Children's Children is now To Our Children's Children instead. I've made adjustments so Brian can post under the questions too, by editing my posts. It seemed more organized than repeating the same questions over and over again. This particular blog is one where I won't be adhering as heavily to my "say it and stay with it" rule where I don't go back and edit once it's published. I'm writing this for my son and any other child or children I might have in the future. It's something I gave my mother to do and she only had time to do the first few pages of it on audio tape, as I didn't find it to give her until she was already dying. I plan to jump the gun a lot here, and figure I can always go back years from now and put in more entries to the same questions as they change with my life. I'm hoping my children and their children will want to know more about me and the world I lived in. It's a time capsule of sorts so I want it as accurate as possible. And Brian commented about being detailed and I intend to. Some questions that come later in the book will reveal more about things though - I want to leave some for later.

I have very few real "secrets". If a person gets to know me well, they can get to know almost everything about me. I have a couple, but nothing dark and sinister, as my husband (who knows everything about me) will attest. There may, however, be a few things we deem "not appropriate" for a blog, and we discussed it and decided that we'd reserve the right not to answer certain questions, but we will at least explain why we don't if we use that right. We don't have to put this up publicly at all (I have a private blog I could post it to instead), but I've found that I'm more likely to get it done when I'm posting it for all to see.

This is one of those rare moments when my own fear of other people's opinions can be used as a motivational tool. Gotta love the psych twist on that!

As for DragonBytes, I know it starts a bit dark, but not everything I write can be suitable for the kiddies. I'll probably add more to that piece in the near future, but I don't know how far I'll take it. I expect that Dragonbytes will be a series of bits and bobs, some prose, some poetry. I just needed a place to drop it in, and it has started to seem out of place to lay out on this blog. This is where I hang out, in all my varying forms. But it's good to separate character from self. It lets them know who's in charge.

And lastly...

Remember folks, only four more shopping days left until Eostre - the wiccan fertility festival celebrating the birth of spring, it's also known to many non-wiccan's by the mundane name of "the first day of spring". Bah. My MultiCultural Calendar tells me all kinds of fun stuff. Oh, and happy St. Patrick's day to everyone tomorrow - the calendar says it's about some guy who explained the Christian Holy Trinity using a shamrock, not drinking green beer... I feel so disillusioned now. *sigh*

Boy... if I listed every holiday in here, I'd rarely run out of things to blog... But since I can't stop rambling as it is, I'd better just leave that one to the professionals.

g'night!

New Projects...

Added two new projects today...

First, the aforementioned To My Children's Children blog is up. I've answered the first three questions in the book already, although they were probably the easiest of the lot.

Second, I've also started DragonBytes which is intended for me to write occasional fiction on whenever I feel like it. I threw something up that started festering in my mind this morning, but not all the posts will be of the same type necessarily, nor on the same character, plotline, topic, etc. It's just a spot for me to vomit my creativity out onto every now and again. Sometimes a girl just needs to purge.

I don't have comments up for either of them just yet. Tough noogies. I should be doing more important things with my time as it is...

Time...

How does time go by so quickly? And where does it go?

Poof. gone.

But not forgotten.

I keep wanting more time. Time to deal with the piles of papers that collect up on, in and around my desk. Time to sort through the boxes of things I have from "before", that haven't proven necessary enough to me to pull out of storage and open. Time to finish writing stories and poetry. Time to try and publish some of my finished writings.

And yet.

I can easily find the time to spend a half an hour gazing into the blue of my son's eyes as he cheerfully amuses himself by tugging on a lock of my hair. He's found that I make funny faces when he does such things. He's found that I make a "beep" noise when he grabs hold of my nose. We let time slip away as we are wrapped up in each other's worlds. I am smitten with my son. I look in his eyes and see the whole world swirling in those pools of blue...

Time well spent.

I'm not rich and famous. But I wouldn't give back memories like these for all the money in the world. Time spent making memories. Time spent on beautiful moments. If such things yeilded money as well, I might be one of the richest women in the world.

Time spent living life's little moments... mmmmmm.

ah, well. Now it's time for bed.

Sundays...

On seafood quiche - my swiss/crabmeat/onion/garlic/spinach combo worked quite nicely. The other quiche - my cheddar/shrimp/onion/garlic/spinach combo might have been better if I'd had a) better quality cheddar, and b) dryer shrimp. Note for the future, allow more time to drain the shrimp after rinsing as they retain enough water to soften up the quiche too much. Also, cheap cheddar doesn't melt in as nicely - spend a couple more bucks on the cheese next time. Although the overall opinion on the flavor combinations seemed positive...

Almost every Sunday we get together with my husband's family for dinner. His sister even drove in for it when she lived in the next state over and had a good 2 or 3 (I forget) hours of driving to get there. In the past, it's been at his folks house the majority of the time with the occasional jaunt over to our place or his sister's, depending on location and available space and what-not. Recently, we've changed the schedule so that we'll be alternating the location between our house and theirs, probably with the occasional dinner at his sister's thrown in now and again as well. I decided it's actually easier to cook for five people at my home where all the diapering conveniences, toys, baby foods, and other "gear" is already located than it is to pack half the house (I'm a confirmed over-packer) and tote it all elsewhere, unpack and use it, repack it, and come home and sort it all back out again. Thus - the new alternating Sundays.

Whenever it's over at our house, I have this tendency to try out new recipes on them. I'm trying to come up with some new favorites that can be "our" homemade favorites, instead of just continuing to used some of the tired old standbys from everybody else all the time. I'm trying so hard to break away from some of the self-depreciating, harmful, depressing traditions that seemed to evolve from within my mother's family by creating all *new* traditions that combine some of the rare positive ones from my side and a whole lot of stuff from his family. His family actually likes one another. They even talk to one another. It's surreal. It's wonderful. When I saw them, I realized that there was hope that a marriage and a family could work and not want to strangle eachother. It's amazing.

So far, I've had a jumbalaya recipe go over well, a breakfast pizza, my mom's mostaccoli with some modifications, my slightly soupy quiches (still a work in progress), and some others. I've not actually had many recipes go over poorly (knock on wood), so I guess I've confirmed to my mother-in-law that I can, in fact, cook. Her son will not starve. Just don't ask how many delivered pizzas he and I have had in the past. A few years back we had a pizza place on speed dial for a while... it was bad.

Naturally, nowadays, we're trying to be health conscious though - so I'm trying recipes and experimenting with that balance between prep time and nutrition. Not an easy task sometimes. Especially for someone who didn't ever want to be "little Suzy homemaker". *sigh* If it weren't for that feeling sneaking up behind me now and again, I'd probably love cooking. I actually find it intriguing, and I don't think I've been quite as handicapped by my loss of smell as I had originally been afraid of. I've always enjoyed foods and tasting new flavors, so I have a reasonable stockpile of what some spices smell and taste like. Others, I just give it a go and see what happens, or I make my husband get involved and smell them for me. He's getting pretty good at explaining how something smells to me.

On one hand I love Sundays... The food, the family, the fun.

I will admit though, sometimes it can be hard. After a work-filled Saturday that went longer than intended and left no downtime to speak of, some days I just want to spend Sunday lounging about and not doing squat. We spend half the day getting ready for dinner and the other half of the day involved in it. We meet in the afternoon and start with some snacks and pre-dinner conversation which eventually evolves into dinner. And my mother-in-law is smitten with our son and can't wait to see him and spend time watching his latest antics. But sometimes I am tired and question whether or not it should continue being a weekly thing or be stretched out to every other week instead...

But if my family had been so interested in each other and spending time with one another, instead of bitching and complaining at one another all the time...

This is the family I want my son to know. In the end, it's my husband and his family who will balance out the "issues" and "baggage" I bring with me. No matter how hard I try, I will likely accidentally pass some of my less amiable traits along to my son, but this family will help me watch out for him.

This is what keeps me in Illinois. I'd rather be living somewhere dry and mountainous. But my son needs to see what a real family is like. What a family ought to be.

This is the good stuff. :-)

More aspirin Please...

Owwww.

So, I built the bookshelves for my husband, along with a corner cubby thingy for myself and put new shelves up on the wall too, with a cool wineglass holder thingy underneath one of them. The shelves (white coated with pre-made wooden brackets) look very nice, we think, and the other items are functional and will do nicely for the price of the crappy plywood they are made out of instead of buying something more expensive that wouldn't have fit the space properly anyway. My own bookshelves, which I made over a year ago, still need to be painted and are also the same type of crappy plywood ones I made for my husband, but they've been nicely functional and I don't care. One day, probably when we remodel this room and have to move all the crap again anyway, I'll even paint them with the paint I bought for them back when I was more ambitious about building shelves. Pah. I totally want my workshop in the garage before I build anything else, crappy or otherwise.

My husband got the icky job of cleaning up after the mess, since he got off easy for most of the day. It turns out my son is afraid of the sound of power tools. Shocking though that may be to me, it required my husband spend time distracting him from the frightening noises... yeah, rough job eh? So once I had the sawing, and cutting, and attaching together, and such done, he helped me get the shelves up on the wall and then he cleaned up while I cleaned me up. It wasn't pretty. There was this thin layer of sawdust everywhere, and a thicker layer on the floor where I'd been working. I swear I had sawdust in my nose and ears! Eww. I love playing with my power tools, but I totally need a little space of my own to make dusty in the garage.

Anyway, after all the bending, twisting, holding, pressing, securing, and otherwise building today. I ow. But I already took aspirin, so I'm hoping it will be reasonably better tomorrow as I have to cook. I'm trying seafood & spinach quiche. Wish me luck, as I have no idea how it will come out.

Upcoming Project...

I'm not going to blog much tonight, as I'm trying out an herbal solution to helping me fall asleep and I want to go to bed early to give it a chance to work...

I'm planning to start up another blog shortly, based off of the book by Bob Greene and D.G. Fulford, entitled "To Our Children's Children". Now that I have a son, I feel like starting to answer the different questions and putting them down for him and his children. A blog seems like an easy place to put it. I'm expecting to link it and answer at least one of the questions per day, probably in the order they are in the book.

Also, for those who are following it, we've reached chapter 2 now on Quick Shtick!! Yay! Still no clue on where it's going to end...

My melting pot of blubbery brain... (ewww!)

Some days I just have so many things I think of to say throughout the day that by the time I get to sitting down and typing them in, it's just a mish-mash of topics that don't really meld together. The melting pot of my mind probably looks somewhat nauseating with all these different colors of ideas swishing around in there...

There is still a load of laundry sitting in the dryer as I write this, leftover from laundry day and wrinkled-a-plenty, I'm sure. Fortunately, it's just sheets, an ugly towel, and a spare comforter for the spare bed. That's probably the reason I haven't moved myself into the laundry room to put any effort into folding them up. Maybe I'll do it before bed tonight... I have to at least get them out of there before any more laundry can be dried in the dryer. My husband's work clothes got folded and hung, so the important stuff was dealt with. So there. Rawr. I so despise these little guilt trips I run myself through. I need a little non-guilt vacation.

My son is going leaps and bounds. He's only just figured out crawling properly this week (we wrote it down on Tuesday) and now he wants to zoom everywhere he can around the house. He's also suddenly kneeling in front of things he can hold onto, and I swear he's going to figure out how to pull himself up into standing any day now! Just last week he was still doing the "creeping" thing, where pulling himself around was this big affair that involved sitting and rolling too. Zoom! I still remain amazed at how much babies accomplish in the first year of life. Wow!

Web site is still coming... but I've got to build bookshelves this weekend and some other stuff, so it might not happen for another week or so. I did finally fix the titles on this blogger template so that they stand out from the rest of the text and I realized that the current template didn't know to automatically include the link for the March posts, so nobody could see past this week! All fixed now.

My husband likes to bring me home these articles of things he finds on the (Intranet?) web site at work. The most recent one had me all frustrated at yet another idiotic thing I'm inevitably going to find myself bombarded with on those rare occasions I bother turning on the TV. The Ad Council has put together an anti-obesity campaign that will show such lovely things as this:

...In one TV ad, a man takes a pair of triangular body parts to the lost and found at a shopping mall.

"What are they?" he asks the clerk behind the counter. "Love handles," the clerk replies. "Lots of people lose them taking the stairs instead of the escalator." The clerk tosses them in a drawer, and a message fills the screen: "Take the stairs instead of the escalator. Take a small step to get healthy."

(excerpt is originally from an article by Betsy McKay, published March 10, 2004 in The Wall Street Journal)

The article goes on to discuss other such ads, where two kids find a "belly" in the sand, and another couple discover a "double chin".

Can I just say "ewww".

"Ewww."

Thank you.

Now, I think these ads sound absolutely disgusting. I already don't want to watch them - flabby body parts is not my idea of something I want to see to get me motivated to exercise or eat healthier. If showing such disgusting things is their perceived way of getting the country to lose weight I think they ought to re-evaluate their strategy. It sure sounds like negative reinforcement to me.

I find it interesting that there was a billboard that some gym put up showing aliens and saying something like "when they come, they'll eat the fat ones first" and there was a whole lot of uproar and unhappiness until it was taken down. And yet now we get this campaign by the Ad Council - funded by the government??? At least the aliens thing had some level of humor to it, in my opinion...

This is the same government with agencies banning nudity and obscenities left and right, but they want us to look at blubber stomachs instead - and have it inspire us???

*sigh*

I'm so confused.

They could have at least taken some positive angle, used some sort of positive reinforcement. Can you imagine, for example, if "Uncle Sam" were to give people over a certain starting weight at the beginning of the fiscal year a dollar off for every pound shed during the next year? Applicable through tax payments/refunds? Part of a five or ten year program to bring the national average down? Now that would work...

*sigh*

But, it's okay. Nobody listens to me anyway...

*sigh*

Okay. I'm done now.

/rant off.

Thou cockered tickle-brained scullian!

Oh cool! I just found this Shakespearean Insulter through a link off The Mommy Blog which I caught my eye off of beancounter daydreams' "favorite blogs" section, which I found through Word Shadows and...

Okay, now I need a nap.

Anyway, the Shakespearean Insulter is fun. Check it out. I'm thinking I might send a link to the professor I had for my Shakespeare class while I was still taking classes last year. I wonder if he'll remember who this strange woman sending him a link is?

The Mask and The Hand of Friendship...

This post started out as a comment on another person's weblog, but got long enough and rambled off topic a bit so I decided to drop it here instead...

I have a lot to say. Some thoughts of mine are deep, some not as deep. But in my experience so far, no one really gives a damn anyway so I rarely take the risk at saying much of anything. I mean, why bother speaking up on the things you care about if you will just be interrupted, ignored, or otherwise disregarded.

My own silences are usually masks created for those around me. They may be perceived as how I want them to be, but it is a rare day when someone attempts to peer behind the mask. There is only one soul who truely knows what's behind that mask, and sometimes it fools even him.

It is a shame, this mask of silence. I would much rather be brave enough to lay it all out on the line. But I care too much about what other people might have to say. On this weblog, I share snippets of myself. I use it as a medium to say some of the things I might not normally say aloud. I try to assert myself further when I make comments on other people's blogs, risking criticism. I cruise along the web and search for people whom I can relate to on one level or another. People I might be able to extend the hand of friendship to. Sometimes even do risk extending the hand of friendship, attempting to initiate conversation.

Though you cannot really interrupt someone within a comments box, I frequently find myself still ignored or disregarded. Some days I'm left feeling very small. The hand of friendship will drop back down to my side, rejected once again. Maybe we all had the "stranger=danger" thing taught to us a little too well. Or maybe I'm just not funny enough or well-read enough to warrant notice.

Perhaps I should have made use of this forum to pretend to be someone other than myself, someone more socially "likeable", but that's not what I want to do. In type, I can come closer to showing who I really am. I can only hope that the words I put down on this blog are perceived the way I intend them to be, and I know that in some instances that won't be the case. But there is the "comments" section with which I can clarify if need be.

*sigh*

Today is "laundry day". The day I dispise most during the week. I did break it off separate from "diaper day", as doing it all in one day tends to send me over the edge of my housewifely tolerance. "laundry day" reminds me of who I'm not. Who I never planned to be. Yet, who I am. Housewife, homemaker - that's not who I expected to be. I do enjoy being "mommy", but the cleaning, washing, cooking, and errands just grate on me. Most of my dislike stems from my upbringing, where chores had to be done to perfection and at all cost, even if it meant staying up until 3am finishing the laundry on a Sunday night, with school early the next morning. Sunday was laundry and chores day growing up. On Sunday I dusted, vaccumed, washed, and laundered. And then re-did anything that wasn't done to my mother's perfectionist satisfaction.

"Laundry day" especially siphons the life out of me.
Subdues me.
Renders me silent.
I slip into my mask as much as I can for the others around me, as I fold and hang the warm clean clothes.

Symbols...

I find it interesting that I now wear a "symbol" representing something spiritual. In the past, I've felt somewhat uncomfortable wearing most symbols (the exception being a Celtic knot that a friend gave me that symbolized either protection or luck - I forget), mostly as I felt they were representations of faiths that don't mesh enough with my own beliefs for me not to feel like a hypocrite wearing them. The cross is one obvious example, as it's distinctly a symbol, for so many, of Jesus Christ and the crucifixion (am I supposed to capitalize crucifixion too? *shrug*).

Since I don't believe that Jesus Christ was any more "god's son" than any of us are, I feel that his crucifixion was part of his experience and the experiences of those around him at the time and don't necessarily hold a bearing on my own life. He sounds like he was probably a guy who had a vision of his own and tried too hard to share it with people who weren't really ready to hear him. I feel sorry for the guy, being nailed to a cross had to have sucked, but hey - he also got to do that whole "coming back to life" thing supposedly, so that's kind of cool.

Not enough to make me start worshiping some stranger though.

The symbol I've chosen to wear around my neck is one that called out to me as having imagery that represented my spiritual beliefs for me. My "cross" represents infinity, my soul, my connection to everyone and everything everywhere, and my own individuality. It feels full of energy and life for me - a single burning flame amidst the blaze of the night watchfire.

I didn't believe that "symbols" of one's religion should be necessary until now. After all, you either believe it or you don't - why should you have to "remind" yourself by wearing something dangling about your neck? I still don't think they are "necessary", however I understand now why some people choose to wear them all the time.

I was rinsing the buckets (empty cat litter buckets) that we use for "diaper pails" to hold the cloth diapers until wash day today. It's a tedious task that I chose to take on when I chose to do cloth diapers. I have to haul the three buckets (three makes them easier to carry though, as opposed to one big one that I wouldn't be able to carry) down two short flights of stairs to the basement and dump them into the washer. I start the rinse cycle running and then go back upstairs to rinse out and refill the buckets in our bathtub. I then dry the outsides of the buckets off and add some detergent for the next set of dirty diapers to soak in. I replace the buckets and return the detergent, checking to see if it's time to start the regular wash run on the load yet...

It's one of those "housewife" chores. I don't dislike this one as much as I do the regular laundry day which I generally despise. As I was leaned over rinsing out the buckets, my pendant bumped against my chin. I had this warm, reassuring feeling wash over me as I was reminded momentarily of my beliefs. This was just one moment, part of the experience, meant to be enjoyed in all it's tedium and banality. It's all good.

I understand, now, why people wear their crosses and other symbols of spiritual belief. I get it. And I'll wear mine with that much more pride for the understanding of it. After all, that too is part of my experience.

Words Fail Me

Words roll out of my mind
They tumble down onto the paper before me
Where they mock me
Their laughter echoing in my consciousness

They know they are only there
For posterity
And no matter how I arrange them
They refuse to speak as I thought them

They remain
Inefficiently silent
Of the truths I have seen
Of the moments I have felt
Of the dreams I still dream

They know me better than most
Yet they keep my secrets
Whether I want them to
Or not

Yet sometimes
Their silence
Can say so much

Headache heartache...

Woke up later than I wanted to today, but for once I didn't give myself a guilt trip over it. Got some business work done today, but not much else as I woke up with a sore neck. Must've slept funny I guess. Also realized why I feel so crappy today - forgot to take any of my morning vitamins or medication yesterday. Eesh. Not good. Mostly the stuff I take for my sinuses so I don't have nasty sinus headaches is the worst to forget. I'm rewarded with a headache today, so the asprin is flowing.

Feeling bummed out today for some reason...

Note to self: Stop letting other people's opinions of you matter so damned much.

*sigh*

That one may take a while yet.

I prefer to roll my Spiritual Play Doh by hand...

I can't blog much tonight. Unlike my usual late night blogging, I've got to go to sleep now that it's 8:00 at night... normally this would be unusual, however I've only gotten a total of 9 hours of sleep over the last two nights and I'm just plain wiped.

So... to highlight today:

Early morning. Up with that big bright yellow thingy in the sky. Thankfully, there were clouds and coffee available. Sunglasses helped as well.

Left home. Discussion about quantum physics on the way involved finding my sleep deprived self saying:

"so what purpose does it serve to shock the jumpy little electron guys around and get them to jump to another 'shell' anyway?"

Fortunately, my husband is not only good at explaining things so I can understand them (he really should be a teacher), but he is also good at understanding that I need to visualize some things in order to understand them properly. And my creative mind likes to think of protons, neutrons, and electrons as cute little smiley-faced blobules bouncing up and down happily.

Arrived at my in-laws, where we all hooked up to go to a baptism for some friends. Found myself chatting away with nice, friendly Christians who wondered why I didn't come out to their church more. Managed to dodge the usual religious conversations and stayed away whilst communion was going on. Didn't realize my little boy would be a built-in excuse to get out of church sermons when the need arose. Another wonderful benefit of having a child... ahhh. They were all very nice people, but I find myself on my guard a lot when in a church environment. I want to explain what I believe when asked, but I don't want to offend anyone on their home turf like that. I'm not out to "recruit" or "witness" anyone into my beliefs... All went well though, and we went to show support to our friends and their choices, not challenge anyone's beliefs.

After some post-service munching and mingling, we headed back to the in-law's for a while and hung out there. Chitchat and playtime and some coffee to help me make it through the rest of the day. Helped a lot as I no longer really drink much caffiene since I cut down for the pregnancy. Revived physically, my mind was still what I call "whip-dippy" from lack of sleep, and I have a tendency in that state to be both easily amused and say things just off the cuff. At least I did warn them of that before conversations ensued.

The ride back home brought about the decision to grab fast food for dinner - making it the second night in a row we ate fast food (not a common occurance) as well as a new trend starting for us when eating fast food - eating it in the car - but in our own driveway!! We pull in and realize that if we move the car seat out, he'll wake up and then we'll not get to eat our food warm, so we've eaten our dinner in the car for two nights in a row now... my colon is having issues with the sudden influx of take-out hamburgers (since you can't order them to hold the grease too), so I'll have to make a point of cooking tomorrow.

Conversation about today's church experience and religions in general ensued on the car ride home and whilst eating... thus came the following:

"Some people need their spiritual beliefs molded for them - like play doh. I prefer to roll my spiritual play doh by hand..."

I figure my comment was either really, really deep... Or I really, really need sleep.

If my grammar and spelling is lousy - too darn bad. I'm not proofing over this like I often do - I'm going to bed!

On the book jacket of my life...

First, I've been quite busy lately, what with rearranging the room last weekend uprooting all my files and such, and plenty of other stuff catching up with me this week, but the new web design is still coming - I was able to make some small progress last night, but I don't want to upload it all until I've got it at least mostly working.

Now then...

Amidst the errands of today (lumber for new shelves I'm going to build my husband next week, new car seat for Jareth, desk organizing supplies, etc.) we stopped off at a new age shop we'd heard about. Neat stuff, I bought another dragon statue for my slow-growing collection (I tend to be picky and poor, more often poor) and a couple of books for each of us. I'm trying to do some reading up on "similar viewpoints" to my own, spiritually, in the hopes of not sounding like a complete, uneducated moron when I start talking about it to people. You know, referencing the names of authors and listing off similar aspects of other "religions" and so on... So I sound a little respectable. Yeah, I know, like that will ever happen. But I do try...

I also got a necklace pendant. The kind of thing I plan to wear nearly all the time for a while until a) my connection to it changes for some reason or other, or b) I get tired of my 10-month-old son trying to strangle me with it. We'll see which wins out. Nonetheless, it's a woman's figure with her arms up over her head and her body and legs made up into a celtic knot configuration. They told me at the shop that it could represent "the goddess" and "neverending" (due to the knot). It holds different meaning to me, however, although they have the neverending part right. It struck me as very similar to a project I want to do in clay, but keeps eluding my as to the "how" of it's creation. I'm wearing it as my own "symbol" (since we humans tend to do these symbol things) of my realization of my connection to my own infinite self. I guess the fact that it's a female representation is an indication of my current physical state, as there is no "gender" in infinite consciousness. Anyway, as usual, I digress.

So it got me thinking about my epiphony, and I had this momentary flash of another way to describe that moment: It was like suddenly getting a look at the book jacket off the final copy of the "Story of My Life" hardback copy book. You know, the blurb about the author, the blurb about the book, and those wonderful reviews from the reviewers from the press. Then, of course, I had to think of what my reviews might be:

"Marvelous!" says Soap Opera Digest. "Never a dull moment in this one!"

"Despite a wonderful show of persistence, we cannot allow this into the school libraries." ~ The Chritian Review.

"A terrible disappointment. Don't waste your money." ~ The Wall Street Journal.

"Wow! This girl just bends over and takes it! An interesting case study." ~ Psychology Today.

Hrm. Even the imaginary reviewers don't like me... *sob*

Oh well, I thought it looked like an interesting life, no matter what the critics say. I think I'll just keep living it anyway. :-)

After all, who knows what's waiting just around the next bend...

Bubbles!!!

Not feeling much up for blogging tonight. Read some, but I've got a headache. In fact, this bubble game is about all I can handle without hurting myself.

mmmmm. bubbles.

I think I'll get some asprin now.

Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam (sing it please)...

Oh, now this is good! - I don't like spam! ... except this one

Ants, and other fearsome critters...

It seems to be the season to talk about critters. First Word Shadows with his ants, now little.red.boat has deemed mice to be "little fucktards". So, I might as well share my creature features as well...

First, we had the "thing". I don't remember exactly what it was, possibly a possum, but it died at the base of the basement steps (on the outside stairwell that went down to the basement). Mom told me to stay away from it, but I felt bad for it, all lying there decaying. I scooped it up with my plastic gardening tools and tossed it into that great unknown that lay between our garage and our neighbor's garage. I guess, at age 5 or so, that that was the equivallent of a decent possum burial. Suffice it to say that my mom noticed it missing and went ballistic, being the overprotective mommy that she was, so I denied all knowledge of it moving. After her long lecture about disease from dead things I though I would start having appendages fall off in my sleep and owned up to it. I never actually touched the thing with my own hands so my appendages were safe, but my toy gardening tools were thus scoured and mom was pissed at me for trying to lie my way through it. Enough said.

Jump years and years along, to the first house I lived in with my husband. And the crickets. Baby crickets. Did you know that baby crickets are louder than adult crickets? Crickets are ugly. And fast. And even if you are quick enough to throw a heavy book at them (try the complete works of Shakespeare - it's heavy) and actually nail the bastards with it, they still might not die! However, after some trial and error, I found that the suction of a vaccum cleaner works quite well. And they make a nice "Thhhhwunk!" noise when you get them. And my husband was able to reassure me that they were being ground into a nasty pulp before they hit the bag and I wasn't going to go empty the vaccum cleaner bag and have them all jump out at me, pissed that I'd attempted to murder them. Although the lack of incessant chirping coming from the vaccum cleaner also helped to belay my fears as well.

Also in that house, we had the birds. There was a spot over our furnace that they liked to sit on, as there was heat escaping there with the fumes from the furnace. Fumes that made little birds faint. And fainting birds fall into furnaces sometimes. Fortunately, not into bad parts of furnaces, but still difficult to remove them from. My husband had to take part of the furnace apart in order to get the bird out, since we knew it was still alive from the scratching and occasional chirp. Unfortunately, the effort to contain the bird as we got it out was unsuccessful, and it flew around the house for a bit with us chasing it, yelling out ideas on what to do to catch it. As luck would have it, the bird made a divebomb for a perch on a spot in our kitchen. The lid to the garbage. Which nicely tilted inward to let the "garbage" fall downward. We took the garbage can out onto the patio and tipped it gently over and went inside to watch while the bird cautiously came out and went away. (fortunately there was hardly any garbage in the can at the time) We had one more bird fall down there before we were able to get screening up to prevent it from happening, but by then we'd learned our lesson and my husband removed a chunk of the furnace and took it outside before disassembling it further.

Moving on to our travels in the motor home. And one lovely summer spent in Las Vegas, NV. Did you know it rains in the summer there? It's really cool. Out of a clear blue sky, this storm will erupt and dump a small lake's worth of water onto the city. The going joke at the temp job I was at was that it came down so hard sometimes it would knock the porta-potties over in the new construction areas. It was like a Richter scale rating for the level of the storm. Then the storm would stop and everything would be dry again within a half an hour. I loved that. I got to have my rainstorms and the dry weather to boot! And terrain too! I miss that part of the country.

But the rains brought out the ants. Little teensy ants. They looked harmless enough when you encounter one while you walk to the pool, but that was just a clever disguise...

They came up one of the support jacks that held the motorhome level when parked. They marched through the stuff under the hood - all that engine and metal stuff - and then proceeded to come through the side of the dash on the driver's side, and make their way in a long line across the living area to the galley (kitchen), where they took up residence. There wasn't (in ant personal space terms) enough room for them apparently, so they spread out from there. I have pictures somewhere of dead corpses in the aftermath. I smoked still then, and there was one ashtray my husband picked up only to find a solid 3-4 inch wide circle of seething ant bodies underneath it.

The other trick about motorhomes is that sometimes the ceilings are lined with this material that is similar to a flat carpeting. That made for interesting entertainment for those ants that enjoyed scaling new heights, which apparently many did. I began to find ants everywhere, but when I started feeling them drop into my hair off the ceiling - that was the point when we unloaded and stayed in a hotel room until it was resolved. We rented a u-haul for all our stuff, used two bug bombs (the kind that say one is good for a three room apartment) in a 37'x10'x12' area (approximately) and then cleaned each and every item we had before it was allowed back into the cleaned-out motorhome. The ants even killed my plant. Murderous bastards. I no longer like ants. Not that I "liked" them before, but I didn't have any untoward hatred for them until that point. Now - ants die when I find them.

More recently - mice. In our last apartment we had one mouse. I went to find out what my cat was trying to get at in a corner in our bathroom, and a little mouse scooted out and took off. This is the only time so far in my life that I will admit to a "girly" scream. I even jumped up on the toilet. The cat, on the other hand, was pissed. I had shut the door upon coming in, and there was just enough room for the little mouse to slip underneath it and get away. I opened the door and said "Go get it, Nora!!" to my cat, and then immediately felt bad as I didn't really want the mouse to get hurt, but wanted it to not be in my apartment. We never did find it.

Nora has, however, found two mice in our current home. One of which she tried to hide under a towel in the bathroom after it stopped being a fun toy (died). I managed to hold back on the girly scream this time when I picked up the towel and found it, but I did make my husband do the honors of disposing of the corpse.

The second one Nora found, was still alive when I discovered it. It was laying there, very still, having it's little mousey heart attack and Nora was ticked off that it wasn't running around like a good little toy and made the mistake of meowing up at me. After a moment of panic, I scooped it up in a plastic cup and deposited it outside on the back patio. I set it upright, in the hopes it would scamper off to some nice spot that wasn't in my house. It wasn't there later, so I assume it either made it to safety, crawled off to die elsewhere, or had the unfortunate luck of some other critter getting it. I suppose I'll never know.

Also, in our last apartment, there was an odd fly problem. Apparently they were hatching in the basement of the four-flat we lived in and coming up through the heat vents. We had fly paper everywhere for a while, but that one wasn't exciting or entertaining - just annoying.

So those, are my current critter adventures thus far.

Conversation moved...

For anyone following the homeschooling commentary, it's continuing at Kin's Kouch at the moment.

Hair, Head injury, Nettiquette, and Baby Giggles...

Ahh... I'm sitting here surrounded by candles. Beautiful, glowy, flickering flames fill my corner with their warm aura. It reminds me a bit of soaking in a bathtub full of yummy softening oils and soft, foamy bubbles. Without the wet part. I can even smell them some, which is something since I lost most of my sense of smell almost three years ago from a head injury. Oh... I've not yet done my Public Service Announcement on that yet:

ALWAYS WEAR A HELMET WHEN ROLLERBLADING. TRUST ME