DragonBlog

Monster Tombs?

Okay, so I've decided that there is a distinct connection to how jobs are marketed on monster.com, and how people seem to market p0rn web sites. For example:

$35K-$40K STAFF ACCOUNTANT ... Your Experience Counts In Growth Focused Environ! NO Degree Needed!!

or

** READY FOR A NEW CAREER? JOIN US AT ONE OF THE CHICAGOLAND JOB FAIRS, 3 DAYS 3 LOCATIONS **

doesn't seem to feel overly different from:

All 100% Free Porn Sites, No Credit Card Needed! Only A Valid Email Address
Required! TOTALLY 100% FREE!

or

Click Here for FREE XXX Passwords to Adult Sites

(and yes, I actually did a google search to come up with the text for the latter examples, and no, I'm not going to tell you which site I swiped them off of either.)

There is the occasional feeling of having to weed my way past the "ads" to get to the "meat" - the real jobs. How entirely annoying. And I was especially surprised not to find more sophistication added into their search capabilities from the last time I'd visited. I don't technically live in "chicago-northwest", for example. But that's apparently the closest I can come to narrowing it down based on their pre-defined options. I can, however, choose to type all the names of the towns surrounding me into their search bar and try for it that way, although the largest town nearest me is Elgin, and a search for just that word turned up nothing. I later saw an instance of a job that was in Elgin, but somehow doesn't come up!?!

I still have to get my resume stuff in there, but I think I'm also going to look around and see what other "job boards" are available. Monster may be the one I hear the most advertisement for, but it feels slightly under-powered.

Then again, I want something that will tell me what I should be looking for - not only based on my skills, but also on my interests. There doesn't seem to be a way to narrow down to entry level positions for someone who wants to move into slightly different waters. I'd like a job that was more computer-related. I've learned a lot of stuff over the years, but I haven't any official schooling in computers, so it leaves me in this gray area as to how I qualify.

*shrug*

In the meantime, I need to clear some of this nonsense out of my mind for now. Tomorrow we're heading off to do museum stuff instead. Although Jareth gets to sit this one out and play with his grandparents instead, as Brian, myself, and my sister-in-law (the lovely Lindsay, who popped by and commented on a post here recently) head north to Milwaukee, WI for the day to peer at some old egyptian stuff.

Why do I have a sudden urge to comment on how all that "old stuff" just seems so "dry" to some people?

Oh yeah - because it would be a bad pun. Yah.

I'm actually looking forward to it though. I think it's fascinating comparing how people lived in the past to how they do today, and the egyptians managed some pretty intensive stuff (like building big-ass pyramids) without the same tools we have available now. The tomb exhibit at the Luxor hotel in Las Vegas, Nevada, was one of the cooler of the things we checked out when we ventured onto the brightly frightening strip. (there were other cool things too, but on the strip - everything glows, makes noise, or otherwise tries to seduce you - I was more enthralled by the pretty red mountains myself) The exhibit we're seeing tomorrow also has a tomb exhibit, where they re-create the tomb as they found it. We're also planning to see an IMAX movie there as well. All in all it should be a fun time.

I might turn in early tonight though, as we're getting an earlier start tomorrow. So this is likely all I'll blog for tonight.

G'night!

Ch-ch-ch-changes...

Talk about a mind-blowing kind of day.

Brian has posted twice on his own blog today, seeing as how he's been home for most of it and all. That doesn't happen often. He's not been in the habit of posting daily like I am.

It felt more like a Saturday, really. I got a certain amount of stuff done early on, and by early afternoon we were able to pretty much blow off anything else for the day so we could kick back and play computer games. Neither of us had the concentration for much else, and we needed to immerse ourselves in something.

He has a severence package. Which means we have a bit of time to remedy the situation. I'm going to head over to monster.com, and start looking there myself. Not for him. For me.

If I should happen to find something I would enjoy doing, then I might be the one who becomes the "working spouse" instead. Although I recently made the acclimation to the concept that I was going to be the "mommy" and stay at home, while he was handling the financial burden, now everything has gone topsy-turvy. Basically I've decided that I'm willing to be the one to go do the office thing if I can find a job that I can enjoy. That's a tough one. I haven't truely enjoyed a job since my job back in college when I got my Associates degree, and that one was contingent on my being a student. Oh, I've enjoyed moments on the job, and people I've worked with, but I can't say that I've entirely liked the jobs themselves since then.

I've got criteria. It might be tough. I'm used to working from home, without someone peering over my shoulder from 9-5. I'm also used to getting up late and working on my own hours, in comfy clothes. I stop for a snack if I like, or to snuggle with my kid. Some days the highlights of my day include listening to my son sing along to one of his musical toys, or popping pieces of peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich into his mouth at lunchtime, or his post-breakfast bottle and snuggling up with him while he has it and spending nearly an hour afterwards just tickling and laughing and playing. I've grown rather attached to being "mommy" all day long, no matter how much I tend to pass him off to "daddy" in the evenings. It's only ever been the "housewife" part I've disliked. The chores. I loathe chores.

So, we'll both be looking into jobs though, anyway. Neither one of us wants it to come down to the line. We'll be pulling some temp jobs in the meantime, more than likely, to supplement.

Suddenly, just as I was thinking life might be starting to settle into a proper routine, a monkey-wrench gets tossed into the whole works.

I'm trying to be calm. But my heart has this tight spot, and my stomach has been upset for most of the day. A part of me is panicking. This is the first time we've been in this situation with a child. The whole level of "responsibility" is different when you have a child to care for.

• drop everything.
• do all
• bend over backwards
• always be there
• never fail

This is one of those moments when those phrases fall into place for me. My mom, for example, was always unswayed in a crisis. Or at least it always appeared that way. I may not be quite so willing to hide my feelings about it, but I will do what I can to help fix the crisis at hand.

We've been worried about the possibility of Brian losing his job about once every six months on average. They've been doing a lot of re-organization and downsizing, like a lot of companies seem to be these days. But something inside me never really believed it would actually happen. And the newest boss he'd gotten seemed to be putting things in a more positive light. I thought we were close to being able to breathe easier for a while again.

Oh well. So much for creature comfort. It was silly of me to think it could be found in the relative vicinity of Corporate America anyway.

Meanwhile, I'm off to peruse the web.

G'night!

BAM!

For those of you who watch the show Malcolm in the Middle on Fox, there's a sound that they use every time something bad happens or someone gets caught in the act of doing something they shouldn't...

In this case, I'm hearing that sound over and over again, although it's specifically due to something bad happening.

Brian just came home unusually early from work. Like, at about 9:30 AM?

Yah. Apparently, after four and a half years at his job, he was getting dangerously too close to getting that coveted extra week of vacation time each year...

"canned" is how he put it.

BAM.

Just as it was about to start getting easier, for reasons I'm not planning on getting into on this blog, life comes 'round and smacks us upside the head like usual.

Hrm.

Not only that - but I'm supposed to go in to temp at his office for a friend of ours next month. It's only for a couple of days, but it's going to be a bit odd. The boss I currently work for is with that company as well. I'm about to figure out how to word that e-mail.

At least he gets a severence package. That's something anyway. And the insurance doesn't just turn off like a light switch, but sometime around September we'll apparently start having to pay the whole premium.

Ow.

There's this icky pit in my stomach right now, and it has nothing to do with the fact that I haven't bothered with breakfast yet.

More later probably.

Drop everything, do all, never fail...

A few weeks back, my therapist asked me to define what "making family a priority" meant. When I came back I had very little that I'd really come up with. Since I overanalyze everything, I couldn't come up with what it should mean, but instead wrote down what I've always been under the understanding that it was supposed to mean:

• drop everything.
• do all
• bend over backwards
• always be there
• never fail

Now, of course, this list is relatively impossible to actually work by. Not everything can be dropped at any given moment. I'm not capable of doing all. I can't, literally, bend over backwards. I can't always be there. And I will, inevitably, fail at some things no matter how hard I try.

My mother, however, was a perfectionist - despite the fact that she was far from perfect. And she considered herself to have instilled "family values" in me. Most of what I learned, I've found, was actually from the examples she set. When my grandmother called, she came. My grandmother was technically the puppeteer in the mythical show we called "family", though often she made others be the ones doing the labor as she sat back and directed. Despite the fact that we all knew damned well that it was my grandfather who had made the money she weilded over us, it didn't seem to matter when lines were being drawn in the sand. Despite all the times my mother tried to tell me I should never rely on anyone else to take care of me, she rarely ever crossed my grandmother for fear she would suddenly find the financial rug yanked out from beneath us and we'd tumble off into whatever public assistance would allow.

Even with my grandmother doling out the occasional cash and my grandfather slipping my mother more when he could, I remember times when we were on public aid, when we had food stamps, and I was on the lunch program at school - getting free lunches. I have memories of several different government offices over the years, where my mom would go to apply for various assistance, especially during the latter years when she was on medical assistance. I've noticed I have a distinct dislike for such offices and absolutely despise filling out any form - even the ones that doctors offices have you fill in at your first visit. I also have a difficult time wrapping my mind around such matters as insurance - it all just baffles me, and I'm happy to let my husband figure it out and all I need do is show them the card and pay the copay when I have an appointment. In many ways, I am dependent on my husband to handle the logistics of our insurance. I trust him to take care of me in that regard. I suppose my mother would be horrified.

But my grandmother made my mother thank her for every penny she "graciously" doled out, and made her pay each one back with time, sweat, and tears - yet never acknowledging that any debt had ever been paid at all. I remember a period of time when my mother did their groceries every week, and my grandfather basically suggested that she pick her own up at the same time and he'd pay for them as well. I doubt my grandmother knew the extent of it, as my mother stockpiled a couple of non-perishable items each week. So much so that I only just finished the last bottles of shampoo a couple years ago. I may still have some cans of soup and other items on my shelves - nine years after she's died. The woman could have stocked the shelves for a fallout shelter on certain items. But if it was on sale and/or she had coupons - she'd grab it. It's amazing I can actually still enjoy macaroni and cheese, or peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Simply amazing.

My mother also made it clear that any and all crap she took from my grandmother was purely and simply to keep her children in house and home. Although I have to say that I think she was mostly just too afraid to try and make it on her own after having my grandmother tell her so many times that she could only expect to be good enough for a "little job at K-Mart". She never really bothered investing herself in much of anything - most likely out of fear that her mother would be proven right. She had a stubborn streak, but she didn't apply it to her own benefit very often at all.

So, basically - in my mother's eyes - family, as a priority, meant you take whatever gets dished out no matter what, and you do whatever you have to to protect and take care of them. I have no problem with the countless times she drove my grandfather to his radiation for his cancer. The countless trips to Wendy's for "frosty" milkshakes, because my grandmother had a craving, were above and beyond. Not to mention my grandmother was starting to looked like a beached whale in her hospital bed from all those milkshakes, since she didn't get any exercise. The woman took to her bed sometime in either the late 70's or early 80's and that was that. It's not that she was sick - she wanted the attention, and was also a hypochondriac and an addict (alcohol and codeine). By the 90's she was bedridden, although there was one physical therapist who did try, despite the fact that various ailments had set in on her stagnant body.

So, mom didn't exactly set the best example in the "family is priority" sense I guess.

So how the hell is it supposed to be?

What exactly is a "functional" family anyway? (is there such a thing?)

hrm.

Now, mind you, if I needed to drop everything to suddenly take care of my husband for some reason (like an injury, god forbid!), I don't see that as above and beyond at all - that's love. Love is good. And love goes both ways. Brian and I have moments where we disagree, and small problems here and there, but overall we have a partnership. We work things out together and try to support each other. We've been through some rougher spots together and part of what got us through is having eachother to fall back to. I know he's there when I need him, and I want to always be there when he needs me.

And I already drop everything frequently for my son - but that's part of being a mother, which is both something I wanted and something I wouldn't give back for anything. He pays me back with every time I look at him and my heart swells up with joy and pride and what a wonderful, beautiful little boy he is. Every smile, every hug, every giggle - he gives back. I don't feel him taking advantage of me at all. Sometimes I feel worn out - but never used.

So, for those two people alone - the drop everything, do all, bend over backwards, always be there, never fail isn't as bad. I can, and should do some of those - drop everything if I'm needed, and always be there when I can, are reasonable at the very least. They don't require that I do all, although I tend to try anyway (which is one problem), and it's generally not required that I bend over backwards, athough my son requires I bend over often to scoop him up into my arms. I tend to always be there, despite the fact that I ought to seek more time for myself - which I'm working on. It's the "never fail" that can be the real problem though. I'm pretty hard on myself when I think I've blown it - even with the smallest things. I'm not sure what to replace that one with.

And, what about the rest of the family? My own side and my husband's side? How and where do they fit in? I know they don't all require my attempts at perfection, and I know that they will likely still accept me if I make mistakes. Hey - they do still accept me - as I know I've not gone without making a few mistakes. But I still spend my time worrying and trying to make sure I'm what everyone else wants to have around, instead of just relaxing.

One one hand - isn't family supposed to accept you, no matter what?

On the other hand - then why don't they? I've seen too many instances where "family love" can be recalled at a moment's notice.

I suppose, it comes down to a matter of trust. Perhaps I've just not learned to trust that anyone's love is permanent other than my husband's and my son's. Ironic, too, that I should include my son in that, but I've seen looks in his eyes that say nothing but love all over them. My eyes well up with happy tears just thinking about it. For now, anyway, I have my son's love and trust - and I don't ever want to let him down. No matter what mistakes I might make in front of him, I hope to always keep him knowing how much I love him, and how my heart swells up with pride every time I see him smiling.

My therapist says I need to make myself a priority, but I'm not sure I know what that means either. Does that, perhaps, mean I need to trust myself? To believe in myself?

Probably.

I guess that will also need defining.

Why is it that therapy is filled with more questions, when I went there for answers?

*grumble, grumble*

I've still got a week more to work on this before the next appointment.

hrm.

G'night!

Steady Hands and Bare Feet...

Tomorrow morning it will be one week.

My hands are steady. My heart no longer races more than it really ought. I don't sit here at the edge of my seat, sometimes wanting to leap out of it and other times just wanting to sleep. And I think the strange redness on my scalp is fading as well... Which is the main reason I didn't dye my hair today - I'd like to see it mostly gone before I do.

"One week since what?" you might ask.

By this point, my husband will have already figured it out, despite the fact that I haven't yet mentioned it to him. He will likely have said "Aaahh" in that way he does when he figures something out.

One week since I cut myself off of the medication that's supposed to help me keep more emotionally "consistent" so to speak. Although it takes about two weeks to fully kick in, so I expect it will take about that long before it has fully worn off.

I think I'm waking up easier in the morning as well.

I'm just getting terribly sick of "side effects" mostly. And the ends weren't enough to justify the means. So I'm going to try flying solo again for a bit. We'll see how it goes. I survived the pregnancy intact, along with the three months following it, (and so did Brian, mind you) so it stands to reason I can survive seeing how I'm doing without it for a bit. I don't see my therapist until next week, although she's not the one that does the prescribing. But she's going to have a baby in September, which will mean a few months off of therapy at that point, so I figured I'd give this a try while I still have her available.

"Why didn't you tell Brian?" you might ask next.

I've been wondering about that myself, and the best I have understood it is this: I didn't want that justification available just yet. In other words, if I flipped out I didn't want to just fall back on the "I went off my medication" excuse for why I might get upset for possibly no real reason at all. Some things, when I tell someone, it makes them more real - therefore more likely to happen or not happen, depending on what it is. Other things, however, I must keep to myself for a little while so that I don't end up feeling like there is any particular expectation weighing on the results of whatever it is I am working on. I too easily jump to judge myself by other people's standards - including those of my husband - and I'll never learn what my own standards of measurment are unless I start measuring without other people's input. The moment I finish my book, for example, and hand it to anyone else to read - it becomes about the reader at that point, and making it try to measure up to what I think my "audience" for that book will want. Hopefully my experience in attempting to be perfect for everyone else on a day to day basis will at least make it easier when attempting to do so for a book. Perhaps if I can get a book right, maybe I'll start going easier on myself. Although I hope I don't wait that long to at least start heading in that direction. The book is stalled on chapter 12 at the moment - I need to kick-start it again, and I don't know what exactly is holding me back. Frustration, instead, is mine once again.

But for now, I have steady hands again. I can hold them out in front of me and they no longer tremble at the effort. I'm no longer having moments where I feel as if my entire body is trembling slightly.

I like the stillness of it.

Although now, for some reason, I can't keep my feet still and they keep escaping their socks as if they feel I'm confining them. My socks lay in a small heap under my desk as my bare toes roam the carpet...

I shall have to tuck them between the sheets soon instead, when I curl up in bed.

G'night!

And now,

Would you rather:
1. live with a tribe of pygmies in the amazon for a year OR live with three of your ex-boyfriends/girlfriends for three months?
I think I'd better live with the pygmies, to be honest. Three months is a long time to go without sex, and I've left off most of my past relationships on good terms - which makes for some uncomfortable possibilities. Mostly for me, since I couldn't actually do anything about it seeing as how I'm happily married and all, and would like to stay that way. Heh.
2. produce enough saliva to fill two buckets daily OR produce enough ear wax to fill a cup daily?
Ear wax. Q-tips are easier to carry around in your pockets than buckets to spit in. It's also more discreet.
3. be caught spying on your neighbor undressing OR be caught digging through their trash?
Spying on the neighbor. Easier to explain your way out of.
4. eat a live ladybug OR a dead snail?
Dead snail. I'm just not comfortable with eating things that are still wiggling. I mean, eww!

The Magnificant Mindless Maze...

I find this little blogsphere to be an interesting slice of life. And yet, it is a slice that some people step away from - setting it aside for other things as life swirls on around them. Mostly, I tend to blog more about the life that swirls around me, and the different colors that sparkle amidst its waves. There are the occasional moments when I wonder "why am I blogging all this?", but then I realize that a year or so down the line I'll look at this, as I often do old documents I typed up that were basically my "pre-blogs" and have been dropped in as my older posts. I may not have been an official blogger for even a year yet, but I have technically always been blogging - just not always on the page, and certainly not always on the internet.

I find the word "hiatus" frequently used when someone pops off for a while to think. They vanish in a foggy cloud at exactly the point when I would find myself blogging all the more - when things get harsh, gloomy, or otherwise complicated. These are the moments I want to put my thoughts down, for later examination. I find it to be one of the best ways to tell if I've moved forward, or if I'm still stuck in some sticky spot that refuses to let go. The movie theatre floor gum on the sneaker of my life. I want to scrape it the hell off, but it just stretches me thin instead. When I find those, I examine again. Although it is likely that I often overexamine, and miss the obvious solutions while searching out the hidden ones. One can focus so hard on peering through the haystack that they might miss the fact that the needle they are seeking is dangling from a thread directly above it.

I find it interesting that two of my "daily read" blogs (which means I read them daily if I have time - and usually once or twice a week at the very least) seem to have exited the blogsphere for the moment. Their blogs dangling out there - carrots for blog readers - waiting for the return of their writers and the loud, resounding crack of the starting signal gun. I feel like they have been silenced, and their corner of the blogsphere seems muted as if fresh snow blankets over it, absorbing the sounds of those still leaving comments to the last posts dangling ridgidly out there in the cool air. The two are connected in "real life", so the fact that they would go at the same time seems understandable. The fact that their reasons for leaving differ seems entirely confusing.

I have already seen a few people drop off from blogging during the approximately seven months I've been blogging daily so far. One or two have been unable to stay away, or have resolved the situation which caused them to leave. Some, however, have disappeared entirely. A couple of those, without any reasons at all given to their readers. Much like a friend of mine who I recently sent a worried e-mail to, wondering why he has not answered my previous one. His is a life to worry over, for it seems to be ever-spiralling downward. But I am many states away and have never met him in person, thus leaving me with few options in how to help other than words of encouragement from afar - which can only do so much. Some days, one just feels helpless, and I'm the type who tends to want to try, regardless of the consequences it might bear for me. Though I like to believe I've become a slightly better judge of which ones will merely bite me in the ass as soon as I get close enough and let down my guard. I still believe in the fairy tale. There is good somewhere in everyone.

If you're wondering where my point is - where this little monologue is headed - don't bother. I'm rambling. More musing, actually. I've little tidbits of things here and there that are rattling about in my head lately, and sometimes putting together a cohesive piece on one specific topic just isn't going to happen. Sometimes I just put the words down and see where they lead. This is one of those moments. I've started at one point, and seen where the segways lead me into. And then I stop. My mind twists and turns, dodging one thought for another, like some sort of video game. Lately my husband keeps saying his mind is "awhirl" with things he's thinking about. Sometimes mine just feels like a big clunky metal maze that I have to wander through in order to figure out the right order of it all, dodging stray thoughts that try to distract me from the path. But, instead of following the maze, I climb up the walls and peer over into the next hallway, to see what's there, sometimes throwing myself over it (and getting hurt) instead of either finding the proper path or going through the wall with a cutting tool of some kind.

Hmmm.

Maybe tomorrow I'll dye my hair again. Or do groceries...

Damn. Stray thought. Hit me head on.

Pffft.

Nevermind.

G'night!

Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree...

Something I noticed not long ago, and was reminded of today - I can't seem to remember all of most of the little lullabies and childhood rhymes I know. I found it interesting that other people seem to have the same problem, when no one else seemed able to come up with the last line of the one that came to mind at dinner tonight -

Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree
Merry, merry king of the bush is he
Laugh, Kookaburra! Laugh, Kookaburra!
Gay your life must be

Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree
Eating all the gum drops he can see
Stop, Kookaburra! Stop, Kookaburra!
Leave some there for me!

Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree
Counting all the monkeys he can see
Stop, Kookaburra! Stop, Kookaburra!
That's not a monkey that's me

Kookaburra sits on a rusty nail
Gets a boo-boo in his tail
Cry, Kookaburra! Cry, kookaburra!
Oh how life can be!

found at Christy's Clipart CDs while doing a google search.

I was just trying for the first stanza - I wouldn't have gotten any of the others at all, but I couldn't even finish it with the "Gay your life must be" line - instead I was thinking of the end of the next stanza - "Leave some there for me!", and even getting that one wrong in the process. We proceeded to go through the "Mary Had a Little Lamb", to see how far we'd get, but we didn't get far. Instead, skewed lyrics started getting made up - which was funny, on one hand, but also a likely cover for the fact that we couldn't remember all the lyrics to something so simple!

It ends up being one of those moments where I feel like a "bad mommy" for not knowing something I probably ought. Like when I didn't know that all "whole milk" was in red-capped containers. I felt entirely stupid and it embarasses me to admit it.

I know I knew a lot of little songs when I was a kid, although admittedly I made some of them up. I am fond of making up amusing lyrics to replace otherwise mundane ones, so not everything I remember is going to be the real lyrics either.

I guess I'll have to look up more of these online and hope I find the correct versions (although the above one feels right to me once I read it) before I start singing them to my kid as he gets closer to learning to talk.

In other news, the self-feeding Jareth learned yesterday is not a fluke. After some trial and error this morning with cereal, I put the cheerios into a container just like the one he ate out of yesterday and he figured out what to do again. I then was able to move them into a slightly bigger bowl, very similar to the one he was eating out of already, that gave him easier access to pick them up, and he ate his entire bowl of cereal himself! Yay!!

Also - a friend of ours who has been living out of state is moving back again! Yippee! Since he's the only one of our friends who seems to actually initiate contact with us and desire our company, this is very happy news indeed! And, since he's here right now - enough blogging for me tonight!

G'night!

Dead. Dead. Dead. (tired that is)

Make your own here.

Found the link over at Davezilla.com

Okay, going to bed now... honest!

G'night!

We saw the cannons, and they went boom! *cry* BOOM!

As predicted, he did cry at the cannons.

But first he saw his great-grandma.

And then he pet a horse (I did too).

And then we caught up with his grandparents and the other reenactors, and he met new people and got to see his grandma all dressed up in Civil War period clothes.

And then there were cannons - and a great big pout, which led to big crocodile tears. (and me snatching him back from his grandma when I couldn't stand it any longer and had to hug him)

And then the cannons quieted and all was quieter... thus - naptime on his grandma's lap.

And we stole away for a while to see stuff (and managed not to buy anything).

And then we came back and it was time for his snack.

And he ATE BY HIMSELF !!! With his own little fingers picking up the food and putting it into his own little mouth!!!

FINALLY !!!!!!

And then there were more pictures for mommy to take and a tour of the little nature center - which was really cool - and some food for the grown-ups.

And the drive home.

And dinner - where he wouldn't eat with his fingers at all.

*sigh*

Admittedly, he's tuckered out, so we've high hopes for breakfast tomorrow.

And that's the short and simple version of the day.

Want it shorter? (too late, really)

Okay.

Went places, saw relatives and friends, kid learned, saw stuff, took pics, tired now.

Yep. That's the short version.

About all I've got left in me is being reserved for some taped television now, as I only got about 2 and a half hours of sleep last night. So much for getting to bed early.

Need sleep tonight. Big time.

So this is it for blogging today.

G'night!

We'll see the cannons, and they'll go boom! Boom! BOOM!

Why is it that I spend half my day thinking "Oooh, I should blog about that tonight!", and then I sit down at the end of the day to start writing and my mind goes completely and utterly blank?

Alright, maybe not blank, since it is pretty rare for me to not be thinking about something, but all those wonderful, bloggable, topics have fled my mind, cackling gleefully in their wake as they exit. And thus, I sit here, wracking my poor little brain for something interesting to say today. Mostly, so that when I happen to peer back at this a year or so from now I won't just go "Geez, what a ditz!" like I recently did when I encountered some Yahoo Instant Messenger texts I had saved for posterity. "Ditz" is a nice way to put it when you realized that every other sentence you contributed in a conversation ended in "LOL" or "heehee".

Ditz. Oy.

*sigh*

I do think it was my likely intention to seem both "youthful" and "cute", not "blonde".

Ah, well.

So anyway, tomorrow we go off to watch a Civil War reenactment in the afternoon, which is one way of saying we're going to watch a bunch of grown men dress up as soldiers so they can run around making a lot of noise and pretending to shoot eachother and blow stuff up. It's something my in-laws have been doing for some time now, and my husband did frequently in the past as well. They are in an artillery unit that has a couple of cannons to work with. Brian spent one year as RSO (Range Safety Officer), and had to be at practically every event the group attended that year, burning himself out on his enjoyment of it in the process. After that we started going to less and less of the events and he hasn't participated in one in quite a while now, although we occasionally like to attend as spectators. I think my personal attraction to Civil War reenacting was actually the way my husband's rear end looked in the blue wool Union pants. Well, okay the whole uniform was a turn-on. But his butt was a definite highlight. I was never particularly interested in checking out a guy's tush until I saw him in those.

*grin*

Also, since we'll be in the same town that she lives in, we're going to do brunch with one of Jareth's Great-Grandma's as well. Of Brian's two grandmothers one lives out of state and the other one is a good hour to an hour and a half drive away, depending on traffic (and if we remember which route was the "good" one to take) and construction. Although my child is a saint, I don't generally like to push my luck in the car, for one, and our weekends are busy enough that it can be tough to schedule in something that takes us so far from home when we should be doing work on the house and such instead. To be honest, I think we decided to do the reenactment mostly because we could see her too. The people at the reenactment that we know haven't seen our son yet, so we get to show him off (and see how he reacts to the loud noise of a cannon going off - I predict tears, mind you) as well. Although doing all of this tomorrow means we should technically not expect to get any relaxation time on Sunday morning as we ought to make up for it by getting stuff done then. We'll see if any of that actually happens or not.

Anyway, since I have to drag my ass out of bed at 7:00 in the morning tomorrow, I'm going to attempt to get to bed at a reasonable hour tonight. We'll see if that actually happens or not as well. It's a plan anyway. Then again, that plan seems to rarely actually work on any other night of the week, so I'm not holding my breath or anything.

Hopefully I'll get some decent pictures tomorrow though. Assuming I manage to remember to bring the camera.

Which means I'll just go and set it somewhere obvious right now.

G'night!

Rawr...

I am so not pleased...

I got the new power supply into my other PC box today. Works great. Booted up. Started the Windows XP install...

And now that computer seems to think that it doesn't have any hard drives.

It has three!

Not one,

Not two,

But three stones drives!

hrmph.

At least the CD player is working, so it sees that.

I'll be messing with the BIOS and stuff on that box now.

Sounds like a potential for more "computer dreams" tonight...

"Hard drive not found. Please reboot your brain and begin this dream again."

*grumbles*

G'night!

The Maxipad Dance

WARNING!!!!

Danger Will Robinson! Danger!

That's right - if you're a squeamish guy, who can't stand to hear talk of things relating to a woman's men-stru-a-tion, then turn back now. You may skip this post. It is not for you.

You have been warned.

Ain't I purty?

Found a link over at BrainCrayons, which led me to this site, where I made this:

Well, it's kinda accurate. And the closest thing you're gonna get to a picture of me right now. I haven't had one lately that I've been pleased enough with that I'd be willing to put it online. I think I have maybe two "adult" pictures I actually like, and both of them are reasonably old at this point. I was a pretty cute kid though. Maybe I'll scan one of those in one of these days instead.

*grin*

Okay, g'night for real now!

Shhhhh !!!

Hmmm. I think I'll just leave it with the meme below tonight. I've a bit of a headache and the aspirin isn't doing its job well enough yet. I actually got up on time today, but took a nap in the afternoon and I don't know how that's going to affect my schedule tonight either. On a positive note, the hard drive for my laptop arrived yesterday, and seems to work so far. I've reconstructed the factory system on the laptop, but haven't weeded out the programs or installed the others I need.

More to do yet. It seems there's always more to do.

Some days just get overwhelming.

Oh... and I feel a maxipad rant possibly coming soon... I'll warn ya when it does, don't worry. Wouldn't want to scare off all the guys for fear of seeing some icky feminine thing written here.

We also introduced Jareth to the keyboard we have. Not a computer one - a music one. It's one of those "tone bank" ones with a ton of different sounds it can do, and I think it's a full length of keys. It used to be my sister's, but she got another one from her dad, so I ended up with it. I pulled it down on the floor tonight and showed him how to press the keys. He loved it. It's improbable that he wouldn't love music, since both Brian and I love it.

I mean, wouldn't it be cool if life actually did have a soundtrack?

Fade the lights slowly... and cue Shango, track 8, Solaris...

Okay, that's enough for now. Now I need to allow my brain to settle into a dull hummmmmmmmm...

G'night!

And now,

today's questions are pulled from the book that started the whole concept of tuesday is chooseday. it's called zobmondo. and now, there's even a zobmondo board game. breaks the ice at parties...

Would you rather:
1. run a mile with a cracked shinbone OR do 50 situps with a cracked tailbone?
Shinbone. Mostly because I just don't do situps as a general rule.
2. be stuck beside somebody with horrible body odor on a crowded subway car for 10 stops OR against someone with an obvious erection on a long elevator ride?
Well, considering I'm female, I'll take erection-boy. I'm sure I could embarass the hell out of him instead.
3. feed your children by regurgitation OR have to lick them to bathe them?
Regurgitate. I know how clean my floor isn't, and if you think I'm licking my kid's knees and feet, well... nuh-uh. Nevermind that I've seen what comes out of that little bottom of his too! Ewww!
4. while still living, get a glimpse of heaven OR hell?
Well, I don't exactly think of it in that sense, but if I did - I'd have to say heaven. I really doubt I'm the type of person that would end up in hell unless all those religious fanatics are correct and I'm screwed for having my own beliefs. So it's good to check out the new pad before buying it, so to speak.

Dear mom,

Dear Mom,

I know, I know... I don't call, I don't write, I don't even talk to the jar anymore. In fact I ignored you last Mother's Day. Well, I'm the mommy around this house, not you. Just because I still keep your jar of ashes in my living room, doesn't mean you are allowed to be the center of attention anymore. Perhaps you noticed that when I moved you to a lower shelf. When I realized my spiritual beliefs, it still took me two years to recognize that jar's bookend potential. I'm not so callous that I'll put it in a closet or the garage, but you're not technically in that jar. You and I know that, even if your other daughter and your brother don't understand that yet. They wanted a funeral. Perhaps you only wanted to be cremated because you'd done all the other things they all wanted out of you. Maybe you were rebelling against your brother and your parents in that final act, denying them. Well, you won there - he doesn't have closure, and I'm sure your mom didn't before she died either. But you left your youngest daughter - who you fought so hard to live for - without any closure either. Do you know she spent most of your "party" (instead of a wake) in the bathroom crying?

You're probably wondering where all this is coming from all of a sudden. I'm in therapy now. Trying to get past all the crap you imbedded into my life over the years. The chain ends here. I don't want my son, or any other children I have in the future, to have to try and undo all these stupid problems like I'm having to do. I know you tried your best, and I usually justify everything and look at it logically, based on your own upbringing and the crap your mother threw onto you and then us over the years. Don't even think I wasn't affected by it too, by the way, no matter how hard you supposedly tried to "shelter" me from it. Just because you didn't beat my ass with a belt like your mother did to you, doesn't make you the mother of the year.

My therapist seems to think I need to write a letter to you, expressing the emotional side of how I feel about all the crap that happened over the years. Not the logical side, where I explain away the "whys" and the "buts", but the pure, raw emotional side - the one that hid away in the shell of a person I was when I sat up for two to four hours until as late as 2:00 in the morning while you yelled at me for not finishing my chores in the time you alloted for them, or some other misdemeanor. While you told me how I must not care about you, and how irresponsible I was, and how I couldn't expect to amount to anything if I didn't get my act together. You never approved of me. I was just never good enough. And, after having my father reject me at nine months old, how do you think it felt to have my own mother continue to re-enforce that theory for 21 years until I finally had the balls to move the hell out, when you were actually bluffing when you told me to get out of your house. Leaving was, by far, the best thing I could have done for our relationship.

Speaking of my father, he left you, not me. But, no, that doesn't excuse him from leaving his first child behind in the process. But then I don't think either of you ever looked at me the way I look at my son. I don't look at him like that because he happens to be a "male" child either. I look at him in awe and wonder because he's the culmination of myself and my husband. He is "us" impersonated, and he is the most amazing person I've ever met. I have tears in my eyes just thinking about how much I love him. I'm sure you thought I was cute, and all, but I have a feeling I was more of a burden after I didn't do my "job" of a) being a son, and then b) hold your marriage together. Sorry about that, but it wasn't my job. You fucked that one up all on your own. Yeah, that's right . You. You fucked up your marriages.

Okay, so now I figure that there's two men out there who could feel pretty vindicated by what I'm saying here, but I'm not letting them off the hook either. They are just as responsible, in my opinion, but you liked to take your mother's stance, as if you were the queen and therefore untouchable. Bullshit. Yeah. I say again - BULLSHIT. You were demanding, whining, stubborn, and moody, among other things. I thought I was the only one who couldn't meet your standards, but neither could they. Then again, they were competing against "the one that got away" all along, so how could they have. You were comparing them, even if it wasn't conscious, or I would never even know him in the first place.

At least you were actively trying to have my sister. I was just an "accident" really. You married to move out of your parent's house, and you messed up the marriage. At least I know that you likely made "love" when conceiving me, since I'm pretty convinced that you got pregnant while "celebrating" the divorce. The second marriage to my father was a big mistake, and him leaving us after just nine months of my life is not exactly a "heartwarming family memory."

I got to watch you fuck up the second marriage. I noticed you blamed a lot of that on him drinking, but some days I find it amazing that I'm not an alcoholic. I remember the two of you fighting pretty early on after you married, and you assuring me afterwards that you weren't going to get divorced. I also remember you asking me when you finally wanted to divorce him and me raising the "GO" flag faster than you could finish saying it. Parents staying together for the kids just makes the kids miserable too.

But let's backtrack a bit, shall we? Oh yes... childhood. The "fear of mom". No, I never bothered to fear "God". He wasn't nearly that vindictive. I feel pretty sure that you were taking that resentment of being a single mom out on me there... yep. And threatening a kid to behave so child services wouldn't take them away was probably not the best tactic in the book. There's plenty of historical references to dictators falling because they ruled by making those below them afraid. Hell, look at Sadam!

But, god forbid I make a mistake! If I came home and they'd picked on me at school - there were no hugs or encouraging advice - there was just questions on what I did wrong to make them treat me that way. And getting me to behave around the holidays by threatening to take my gifts back to the store before I'd even received them was pretty mean. I just don't think you should bribe a child with their own birthday gifts. What were you thinking???

I know you were sick a lot, but would it have killed you to empty your own damned ashtray once in a while? Or how about fill your own water glass while your at it? But no, even getting in the car to drive and get your own cigarettes or bag of ice was too difficult. But having me ride my bike a mile or two with a bag of ice melting in my backpack was okay, huh? The only reasons I did it was a) the fear of mom, and b) it got me the hell away from you for a while!

I think I'm the only kid who didn't make a valiant effort to get their parent(s) to stop smoking while I was in grade school and learned about the "evils" of it. Not because I didn't want you to stop - hell, I wrote a report on it (a subject I chose to use), simply so you'd read it and maybe get the idea. But while other kids snuck their parents smokes off to the garbage or toilet, I knew that something bad would happen if I tried it. I didn't dare, no matter how much I wanted you to quit. And no, you can't justify it by saying that your cancer wasn't smoking-related. It doesn't matter. You still should have quit. Maybe then I never would have started. An act which was purely rebellion against you. It was something that was all my own, and you disapproved of it. But I quit - because I don't want my own kids dealing with second-hand smoke, or even the damage it could have caused while my son was still inside me. I not only want my kid(s) to have the best health possible, but I want to live as long as possible to be there for them. Smoking could potentially hurt that option. But apparently that didn't matter to you, when they started telling us just how bad it really was.

I don't have memories of snuggling in your arms or you stroking my hair. I don't remember you fussing over me when I was sick the way my friends' parents likely did. I remember you paid slightly more attention to me, and were nicer, but never doting. And those moments when you decided to tell me that you "loved" me, but didn't "like" me very much? Thanks. Yeah. Like I needed that.

How about all the times you picked on me, laughing with your friends over the fact that I, as a teenager, had a far more ample bosom than you and your "itty bitty titty committee". I didn't need to be the butt of your jokes, okay? My self image was already destroyed enough, that I didn't need to hate my body as well. I'm still not comfortable with how I look, after all these years. I'm still trying to measure "down" to your petite frame, although sometimes I do see your face momentarily in the mirror. Whenever that happens, I know it's time to dye or cut my hair. I find it terrifying.

I didn't need you telling everyone you met what an awful daughter I supposedly was. After I moved out, I have medical records where you referred to me as your "estranged daughter", who couldn't be relied on to help you. Perhaps if you had treated me like a daughter ought to be treated, I wouldn't have retreated so far away when I finally did. Hell yeah, I screened my calls for a while. I didn't want to talk to you! Although you know damned well that I could have been relied on if necessary. But you were too stubborn to give me even that much credit.

Oh... and there are "chores", and then there is "slave labor". Ahem. I took over a whole lot of "chores" long before I should have needed to. I know I started doing the six to eight loads of laundry every sunday when I was eleven, since you couldn't cope with stairs while pregnant (funny, but my leg kept giving me troubles during my pregnancy, but I still managed stairs). I think I started dishes and dusting around that point too. Oh, but I was "young", so having me do all the yard work, and shovelling, and floors, and carpets, and whatever else needed cleaning was fine, since I had my youth... No wonder the dust in my house is like an inch thick - you wore me out! Considering you were a stay-at-home mom for the majority of the time I was growing up, you sure managed to never do any real housework. Based on my own schedule - watering the plants and cooking most of the meals does not constitute a rigorous schedule. Oh, but wait - I don't have plants, so I must not understand how it was... right?

Oooh... and while I'm at it - telling me I'd be sorry when you were dead, while you were actually dying, was just mean! Who the hell did you expect me to be anyway? One minute we were supposed to be "friends" (because you needed "adult" contact), and the next I accidentally crossed yet another line I didn't know existed - and suddenly I was "bad, bitch of a daughter" again, with you the "always perfect" mom. And, by the way, nobody is perfect. Period. Live with it. Oh, wait, too late huh?

And, expecting a teenager to know the right things to say to "help" you through a rough time like dying of cancer is expecting considerably too much! Damnit! I tried! The countless times you told me I obviously didn't give a damn if you lived or died or were in pain (usually because I tried to slack off on a chore, or actually wanted to get together with a friend once in a while) was a fucking lie. If I hadn't given a damn - I would have had a life! I let you pull me out of everything, all my extracurricular activities, my freshman year of high school because I came home a half an hour late one afternoon and you happened to have had a post-lung surgery problem that day. You knew where I was, and what I was doing, and I ran home at breakneck speed afterwards, trying not to be late. But you spiked a fever at some point between when the nurse left and when I got home, so "bad Amy" was required to pay for it. I went nearly two years before I was allowed to get involved in anything again.

Also, you didn't believe me that I'd tried to get home in time, and that it would only be that one occurance! There were no second chances in that house. Of course, I'm no longer surpised since you didn't believe I tried to kill myself, and said as much while standing in the ER. Oh no - it was just a "ploy for attention". Well fuck you! You weren't the one who spent the night puking up aspirin and other nasty stuff that refused to stay down. And you were the one who taught me to be the type of person who wasn't going to leave a mess for the hotel staff (just a dead body, but no puke or untidiness), so of course I puked into a garbage bin and then rinsed it out! I wouldn't want to get into trouble for making a mess if I failed to die!

Oh, and just because you hated your piano lessons as a kid, didn't mean I was going to a) hate mine, or b) not do my practices. I would have loved taking part in the music lessons offered in grade school. They even offered loaned equipment, but you still said no. You also said I could have ballet lessons when I was very little and wanted them - and my grandparents said they'd pay for them - if I did my foot exercises (for my flat feet) religiously. I remember imagining myself doing pirouettes as I did those stupid exercises that hurt my feet to do. But you decided not to let me do it after all, saying it was just a phase, and I'd get bored with it anyway, so it would be a waste of money. I know you think you were protecting me from failing - but you never let me try to succeed either!!!

And, I was very proud of that one poem I showed you that you helped me "rewrite" to "make it better". I was very proud of a lot of poetry I wrote - especially in high school and college - did you ever wonder why I never bothered to show you any of it? Because, when it was good enough for the teacher, and good enough for the other students, and good enough to be put into a stage performance - I knew it still wouldn't be good enough for you. I was never good enough for you.

Well you know what? You weren't good enough for me either! There. How does that feel?

I'd spend two to four hours at a time, sitting up 'til two in the morning (too late to be up on a school night), pulled up into a little ball, my arms hugged tight around my knees, on the chair while you yelled at me - pointing out all the ways I wasn't good enough - just because I dropped something and broke it or came home a few minutes late from something "fun" I did that you weren't a part of. Every little minor infraction was subject to a huge penalization by you. By the end of those two to four hours, I no longer knew what I was in trouble for - and you always demanded I give you an apology at precisely that point. After two to four hours of not being allowed to say anything in my defense without making it worse, I felt broken. I'd have said damn near anything you wanted to hear at that point. I was sorry, alright - Sorry I'd been born at all.

So, for all those "good" memories I'm trying to put down on one of my other blogs, To Our Children's Children, this post is one of the balance-makers. Because I'm having a much harder time writing a lot of those and focusing on the positive aspects of my childhood, than I am writing this little piece. I want one of those little cell phones to be able to reach you for a little while. I want to know you're listening. I want to know that you have to listen, while I do all the talking this time...

Can you hear me now?

Good.

Because I'm making a declaration here, and it's important.

Your opinion doesn't matter a n y m o r e.

I want to be good enough for my own standards now.

Just as soon as I figure out what they are.

And by the way...

I loved you mom, but I don't know that I really liked you that much most of the time...

So thanks for keeping me fed and clothed all those years, although I know my grandparents helped with that too. And thanks for the occasional laugh and good moment...

But I can't help but be glad you never had the six kids you said you wanted to have, since I know you messed me up pretty thoroughly. And I know my sister didn't come out unscathed either. Talk about pressure - you kept trying to live for her. Apparently I wasn't important enough to live for, although you should have been trying to live for you, don't you think. But then you never really did live for you, did you?

Well, I'm gonna try to learn how. Then maybe I'll be able to give my husband and my son that much more as a result. And it won't take a life-threatening disease to make me want to live either. Because you never lived, mom. Not really. You stayed in your safety zone and hoped for the best. And resented it so much that you pushed away all the chances you had to go further - to be more.

On January 14th, 1995, your life here ended. Wherever you are now, I hope you are finally living.

Love (whether you choose to believe it or not),

Amy

Photo Blogs, The Guilt-Monger, and other reasons I need to sort out my Blogroll...

Remember how I said, a while back, that I was going to break down and pay, for Blogroller? I was being all "assertive" and not going to "ask permission" to spend our money on it, I was just going to do it?

Ya. Umm...

For one, almost immediately after saying that, I saw the budget get tighter and thus - couldn't justify spending such frivolous money on myself. Besides, the next time I spend more than a few bucks of frivolous money, it's going to be to frame my anniversary gift from two years ago - a gorgeous Michael Whelan print called "Avatar", which is my very favorite of his works - that I've been meaning to frame since I got it. But I always look at our finances and say "it can wait until next month, we need the money for other things right now".

Well, "next month" is going to come soon because I want it on my wall. Heh.

So I still don't have Blogroller where I can sort my links into appropriate categories like "daily reads", "weekly reads", "web comics", "useful stuff", "photo blogs", etc. So I sometimes have let ones slip by when I wanted to follow them more frequently. I keep figuring that once they are sorted I can look at each category progressing through the week, along with my daily and weekly reads. Right now, it's all a jumble, so some of my "dailies" end up getting read every other day instead, as I get all caught up in the fact that I missed checking in on some others...

You see, I feel guilty if I get too behind on the blogs I want to read on a daily or weekly basis. I know I shouldn't. Especially on the ones I rarely comment on - like they're gonna notice I got behind - but I also don't feel I can comment on a post they made two weeks ago. It just kind of feels too late. The thought they had has come and gone and been commented on already. It's a little late to add to a conversation that has been set aside for other topics.

Photo blogs, on the other hand, are different. I did a little catching up on photo blogs on my blogroll today, some whom I haven't checked in on in a long time. But I rarely ever comment on those. I find it hard to put words to a visual medium sometimes. In some ways, visual art is a personal thing - a moment that the viewer has, which is going to be entirely different from the moment(s) the artist - whether photographer, drawer, painter, etc - had during creation. In many cases I haven't words to add in comment to an image. And, if I did, it would merely be simple words or emotions that I attach to the act of seeing it...

Haunting.
Joy.
Despair.
Open.
Foreboding.
Contemplation.
Desire.
Pain.
Uplifting.

Such words are just a description of what I either felt or saw in the image itself.

meish.org has a picture in her recent collection, called Pebbles. I'd say I felt "longing" when I looked at that one. I instantly thought of snatching it onto my hard drive and setting it as a desktop image. I didn't though. At least not yet. *grin* But it reminded me of a couple of different beaches I'd been on in the past, and I wanted to be inside that picture, stopping to inspect each stone as I left my bare wet footprints inbetween them along the beach. All of that filtered through my mind in one moment - a "longing".

Another spot I visit from time to time, pixeldiva, has had some images that have captivated me. Browsing through "July", since I'd fallen behind again, I saw one that was titled Stairway to Heaven. It struck me, for some reason. I think the one word I would attach to it would be "curious". I wondered what I would find if I ascended that staircase, and my imagination played on it, inventing tiny little stories of what I might find up there. Although I will admit that I miss the really entrancing image that used to be on pixeldiva's page before - which was a black and white of some metal screws. That image is what grabbed me and kept me looking at the site in the first place.

I'm only just beginning to occasionally get the pictures looking the way I see them in my own mind, now that I have a properly working 35mm camera that I can call my own and mess around with. But I also need to learn to take the time to bring the camera and make the stop if I see something I want a picture of. I saw a picture last spring that I wanted, but I didn't have the camera. It was a picture of a bunch of trees that I could feel were "shrieking" as they "shrank" back from the road. They were stark and leafless against the sky and lined the road in an even "hacked back" row. It moved me when I saw them like that, and I will try to get the picture next spring, hopefully, if it hits me that way again. I'm thinking I might also take a photo class at some point too - maybe come winter session - to help me figure my camera out better and learn more about how to get what I'm seeing to be reflected in the picture I'm taking.

I'm starting to think I can't just classify myself as "writer", specifically, but "artist" instead. Assuming I can start making my visual art look how I want it, as I can sometimes do with my written art.

But, for the moment, it's one step at a time. And, I still need to sort out the blogroll. But I've also learned that in wordpress there's already a way to do that. I think I'm seeing it say it has its own blogroll anyway. So, if I switch over, I won't need to pay for Blogroller after all. I'm still debating though. At least I don't think it will be hard to change my new format over to the new coding if I do it. And, I might be able to add in some fun plug-ins, as I'm keeping an occasional eye on scriptygoddess' site where some are being done. Ironically, I originally found that site as I switched to Moveable Type, only to find all the MT people switching now to wordpress...

*puts head in hands*

Some days I just don't know if I can keep up!

Anyway, I've got to do my posts on the other sites and get some other things done today. Maybe I'll post again later... maybe I won't. We'll see.

Phew...

Okay. Looks like I may have fixed the problem, but if people could pop by my husband's site, and see if it works properly in their browser and doesn't look all weird with things moved halfway down to the bottom of a lot of white space and such, I'd really appreciate it.

Also, if there's anything odd about this site, let me know on that too.

I feel like that little engine...

I think I can
I think I can
I thinnnn...zzz...zzzzzzzz...zzzzzzzzzzzz...zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

*thud*

Okay, so maybe that's not how the real story goes, but it's what's about to happen here. (except the "thudding" will be upon my pillow, so it ought to make more of a *whump* instead)

G'night!

Arrrrrgh!

Okay, so short post tonight, as it looks like I'll be doing some work on my husband's site. I usually link him, but I don't want anybody to follow it tonight. Go tomorrow. Assuming I fix the problem. Problems. Arrrgh.

Although it has looked fine in both the browsers I've been checking it in, apparently it's been doing nasty stuff, dropping the blog itself down into the depths of the page, and displacing the sidebar as well! And suddenly, it showed up that way here on both my browsers as well. I don't get what happened, but I am noticing that there are some odd lines that have appeared in the code that I can't explain where they came from. Similarly, when I did mine, I kept finding three lines of code appearing that I had to delete repeatedly. It's as if something else is slipping stuff in there, while it was still in the program I was creating it in.

*looks confused*

So I'm going to need to clean up the code a bunch, and see what I need to do to fix it.

Later!

Sleepy...zzz...zzz...zzz...

I'm super tired tonight. Did some productive stuff. Did some not-so-productive stuff. Sun came up. Sun went down. Yadda, yadda, yadda.

So, instead of some long diatribe, I will instead do the usual cheat of giving you something to feast your eyes upon. This picture is from late May I believe, but he's sleepy in it too, so I figured it related...

His partner in snuggle for this picture is his Grandma, my husband's mom. The picture itself was taken by my father-in-law on his cool digital camera.

Can we all say "awwww"?

Yep. I thought so.

G'night!

Ta-Da!!!

Well, as you can see, I've finally done something with my web site design, turning it into something more "me". I'll probably still tweak it some here and there, but at least I've finally gotten something up! Although don't expect any big changes on the archive pages and such, although the stuff I did on the style template will affect that some, I'm not planning to entirely re-design those pages. I'll check them out soon and sort out anything that looks really icky, but otherwise they can stay plainer.

Feel free to leave comments about how it looks, especially if there's anything funky in your browser. I've checked it in Opera and MS Explorer so far, but don't know if it will look odd in any of the others.

All the goofy artsy stuff at the top I did myself. Feel free to criticize my site if you like, although try not to be too rough on me okay?

Yay me!

Okay, so now I'll go to bed. Seeing as how it's 5:00 in the morning now!

G'night!

Who's land is it anyway? I mean, really?

Compliments of Father Jake's blog, I found this little tidbit of humor:

This Land.

The elections are coming. Oh yes. They come.

Are you ready?

Toe-curling, Back-arching sex! (And other things I won't give you enough details on...)

Now then, what was I planning to blog about tonight again?

Hmm... It appears the toe-curling, back-arching intimacy that I was just involved in has distracted me from whatever I was planning to say. Brian kinda stayed up an hour past his bedtime, but hey - it's a Friday, so who cares!

So why is it that sex makes me wide-awake and hungry as hell? I totally crave either carbs or simply bad-for-me stuff, kinda like the plate of "nachos" I'm nursing right now. I get totally jived and pumped with adrenaline. So apparently, I should start every day with sex. Unfortunately, my day starts later than his does, so that ain't gonna happen. I'm not likely to start waking up that effing early!

So, anyway...

It took two carts to get me out of the grocery store today. I did the monthly "coupon day" today. Between coupons and membership card savings, I saved over $68. You don't, however, want to know what I spent. Oy. That's why I don't do coupons every week. I just grab the occasional one I know I've got for something I happen to need that week, and leave it at that. But this week, we were darn near out of food, so I planned what we're eating for the next 2 or 3 (or maybe even 4) weeks, based on coupons and the stuff on sale today. I have a bad feeling that the cashier I had today will attempt to time her break so she doesn't ever have to do my cart again! But I had a lot of things - like baby food coupons - that were about to expire, and I know we're going to need them, so I might as well buy them with the coupon now, instead of wait until we need it and pay full price. The actual list I had with me was very small, but I ran around the aisles with a fistful of coupons, scoping out the prices like a good little budgeted person.

Although we're not going to talk about those three bags of candy I've hidden from myself in a drawer. Individually wrapped stuff, which I've found I eat less of because I'm too lazy to unwrap it. I tend to check the "serving size" on those and eat that many. Most of the time. Honest! Although I haven't checked the serving size on these yet, so... *wince*... we'll see what happens.

But we're not going to talk about them. Nope. Not a peep.

Now, I managed to (barely) fit everything into one cart to get it to the checkout, but the idiot baggers (yes, they are - my green onions nearly got smashed to smitherines because they were in a bag with baby food jars! And, I had frozen stuff melting onto cereal boxes!) required two carts to fit the bags in. Since I can't push two cart at once (I'm talented folks, but not that talented!) I had to actually have someone help me by pushing one to the car. He did stick around to hand me my poorly packed bags (which he'd packed quite a few of, mind you) from the cart, and he put the soda into the car for me, which was nice at least. Ironically enough, they usually ask me if I "need help out to the car" when I'm checking out. I think I frazzled the poor girl with my bazillion coupons so much she forgot to even offer. Knowing they'll do it, however, I just looked at the baggers and said "Oh, and I'll be needing help out to the car."

I can just hear that cashier in the break room later though:

"I had this crazy woman and her kid come through my line, and she must've had a hundred coupons! I mean geez, lady you've only got one kid, how much food can you need?! And she had, like, three bags of candy and some ice cream in there! Just watch - next month she'll be back with her coupons and forty extra pounds on her hips! Ooh, but she bought diet pop and salad stuff. Like that's gonna matter when she eats three pounds of candy!"

Mind you, the girl in line behind me was watching my total go down while the gal rang in the coupons. She said I had inspired her to start using coupons after she saw just how much I'd saved. LOL!

At least when I told my husband the grocery total, I was also able to tell him I'd deposited my two most recent paychecks today too. I always feel a little better when I'm able to put money into our account. It just seems to always be pouring out of it instead. I know that if I cut off the internet and the cable (no sci-fi channel??? NOOO!) that there would be a little less money pouring out, but those are two things that keep our sanity intact, and we certainly can't just go gallavanting off to a movie these days, or bowling or something. Although, now that Brian's knee has been fixed, he no longer has an excuse to get out of some of the stuff we couldn't do before. We just have to wait for our son to get old enough to do these things with us now.

I wonder where my bowling ball even is? Probably in the garage. *shudder* I don't go in the garage. It scares me. Too many boxes that got moved too many times. It bothers me when I don't know how to find stuff. I put stuff in places, and I know where they are. But Brian went in there and "organized" a few times, to make room to stick more stuff we need to sort through in there, so now nothing is where it was. So I don't go in there. I think I'd just have a panic attack. LOL!

Anyway, there's some other stuff to do before I go to bed tonight. I guess I managed to write a reasonable amount for someone who couldn't remember what she wanted to blog about... heh.

G'night!

Battle!

As some of you already know, my husband and I play pen and paper roleplay games, one of which is Palladium. For those who don't know what that is, it's not some kinky sex thing - If you've heard of Dungeons & Dragons, and a bunch of geeks sitting around rolling dice and pretending they are elves and dwarves with swords and other weaponry to beat upon their evil enemies with. For me, anyway, it's about creating a character and "fleshing out" that character by putting him or her into settings and seeing how they react. And about smacking evil in the balls. What's not to love about that? The dice are technically optional the way I play, but help keep some sense of logic and realism in a setting filled with magic spells, psionic abilities, ogres, trolls, orcs, and other unreal fantasy things. The whole game appeals to both the writer in me, as well as the actress still buried under there somewhere.

It is uncommon for us to play on a "school night" so to speak, since Brian has to be up early in the morning for work, but he suggested it, and we played this evening anyway. Pizza and much fun was enjoyed.

And there was battle.

I think the last time I posted about roleplaying was after our session on New Year's Eve, where I mentioned a character I was playing. We played the same character tonight (although she was really a "changeling", and has since "changed" her identity to a man named Edwin now), and he's on a ship that was attacked by pirates!

This was so what I needed to get out of some of my "funk". It got me out of my own "character" for a little while in order to think like the one I'm playing, - all plotting his next move to help keep the ship from getting overrun - as well as getting my adrenaline going and relaxing for an evening. I may be able to start writing some again. Yay!

Just for the record - our shipmates only had four seriously wounded, all healable, and some cuts and bruises here and there. My character, Edwin, took no damage at all. The pirates, on the other hand, outnumbered us with their 100+ people (he kept saying "100 and change". The "change" was two trolls who were hiding below deck until the grappling lines had been thrown across to pull the boats together. Our archers mowed them down. Tall targets make for easy shootin'). By the time they surrendered to us, they had 24 people left. Half of those were craftsmen who weren't part of the fighting anyway. My character's personal "kill count" was something like 25 people. Most at range with his longbow before they ever got close enough to throw spears. One of his traveling companions was responsible for taking out another 23 before he took one of the "serious wounds" I was talking about, and had to go find the healer.

This was the first time this particular character had been in any sort of large-scale battle before, as he'd previously been more of an assassin before becoming Tess to leave that life behind him. He's an expert swordsman, and was able to finally show people how capable he can really be, during the last bit of the fight when he took the battle onto the pirate ship instead of the cargo ship he's traveling on! And, character-wise, he has realized that he really enjoyed this fight! He was able to know he was on the right side of the fight this time - doing good with his skills, instead of being a murderous bastard. He's heading in the direction of someone who will champion those who need help! Yay!

Hey, don't knock it until you've tried it - this is cheap entertainment that allows a creative escape from daily life, and I enjoy the hell out of it.

Anyway, so that's the interesting thing for today. Other stuff happened, but none of it was interesting. Not really anyway. The work on my web site revamp continues, I'm working on a report for my boss, I've got a counter-full of dishes to deal with after I empty the dishwasher of clean ones, and a laundry basket of unfolded clean diapers that I never seemed to get around to folding.

See? I told ya. Booooring!

But defending against pirates and turning the tables on them? And looking cool and flashy while doing it too? Yeah. That's fun.

My dreams should be more fun tonight too...

G'night!

Spinwheel...

Okay, so there's a distinct problem when I get involved with web design. It absorbs me entirely. I find myself sitting here with handfuls of hair and too-wide eyes, staring slack-jawed at the screen as I click and type. Hours go by. And, as with all things that absorb my concentration like that, it tends to seep into my dreams. That, and the movie I watched a couple nights back, called "The Butterfly Effect" (sorry, too lazy to link it today), which was good, but more suspense than I'd been prepared for. So now I have these horrible nightmares, assuming I get to sleep at all. Which is why I sent my husband out to rent me a couple "chick flicks" tonight. I need to have something else fresh in my mind or I'll never get out of this funk I'm in. And, I'm out of my chocolate snacks. I'm going through withdrawal. It's not that I'm out of chocolate, but I'm out of the ones I lose all willpower to resist...

*waaah*

However, I did manage to walk away from my computer for a while tonight, while my husband was kindly cooking dinner, and played on the floor with my kid and my cat. Anytime I'm sitting on the floor, my cat seems to assume it's her time to play with me, which suited my son fine tonight, as half of the playing involved him crawling in circles around me as the cat tried to keep from getting snagged by little hands, and I tried to keep little hands from hitting instead of petting. He still hasn't got the meaning of the word "gentle" yet, despite the amount of times he's heard me say it. Perhaps one day...

Another thing he's not "gentle" with is this:

I played with the picture briefly so you wouldn't have to see my crappy carpet in the background. *grin*

That pinwheel is likely one of the best dollars I've spent on kid toys. I don't just let him have it, though - it's usually held up by the spirals on a small notebook I have propped up on my desk in a little cubby-box-thing. So he sees it from afar, and if he's being good while he's sitting in my computer chair (and sometimes as bribery if he's being bad) I can snag it up and blow on it and - instant fascination!

I make it flutter at him by shaking it. I blow on it to spin it. He spins it with his own hands. And it's shiny. Apparently this Spinwheel is a winner. For just over a buck, with tax. Go figure. According to their web site I can get them in cases of 18, but I think that might be a bit much. I don't think my lungs could handle that many at once!

I knew it would happen, but I still can't get over how the simplest of things will amaze him. He also played with his little hairbrush tonight, smooshing and brushing his fingers in it, feeling the texture and watching the soft, white, satiny bristles bend. (incidentally, I think the brush cost me less than a buck) He also likes to examine his comb when I brush his hair and was really interested in the small shiny metal scissors I used tonight while trimming his fingernails. Safety scissors or no - he ain't playin' with that one. Happily, I combed his hair right after trimming his nails, thus distracting him with the comb and then the brush. Oh yes. I learn quickly. *grin*

Anyway, it's time for me to go pop in either a comedy or a drama (I had him pick up two) to help clear my mind.

Oh, and as a final note - Apparently I'm too biased to count, but ntexas99 calling my husband a "hottie" has finally made it "official" in his eyes. LOL! If I'd known that that was what it would take for him to believe me, I'd have started a blog years ago! Then again, I didn't even know about blogging this time last year... Ah, well, I've had pictures of him online in the past, but nowhere for people to leave such comments.

Anyway...

G'night!

Drumroll please...

I got distracted today. I had plenty of stuff I intended on doing, but I was kinda looking for a good enough reason to blow most of it off anyway, so...

I set my husband up with a new site layout.

It mostly came about because of a picture that Brian's dad took while they were on vacation up in Canada: (click to enlarge)

I absolutely love this picture (so does Brian), but he wanted to use it for his web site, so I couldn't put it up here until I had his site up. So I spent most of today picking and pecking away at CSS and HTML until I had something resembling a web site together for him. Although I seem to have a couple of things which are determined not to align the way I wanted them when it's seen through Internet Explorer, I don't recommend using that browser anyway. So nyah. Get Opera already! *grin* Although I do need to download Mozilla one of these days, so I can test sites in it as well, as I'm seeing a lot of people using that now. Netscape, on the other hand, seems to be dwindling away, so I'm not going to bother installing that again.

Anyway, it was my first time trying to make an image bend around like that (which actually means cutting the image into two pieces and lining them up in a table, which wasn't too hard, but not entirely a cinch either), and I think it turned out reasonably well. I haven't tested the site on a lower screen resolution than I'm using (1024 x 768), so if you are on another resolution let me know how it looks. Also, if anyone sees anything majorly nasty happening with it in their browser, let me know. Although if it's a font color that looks icky - don't blame me. He's tweaking the font styles and colors. I just did the text in the image at the top, once he was home to nod approvingly when we found a font style and colors he liked.

Of course now I'm agonizing over how my own site looks, which means that maybe I'll finally get back on track with getting it looking cool, instead of this plain Jane MT layout that came with the program. Pffft.

I just wish I could draw a proper dragon! If I weren't broke, I think I'd commission JB over at Catharsis to draw me a "Rremly's wet blue cousin" or something. I somehow doubt that dragons will be covered in the art class I'm gonna take. Fooey.

So...

My sister gets all the artistic "I can draw and paint" stuff from my mom's side, and wants to color and cut hair instead...

I've had several friends over the years who've been super-talented in the ways of art, music, theatre, and writing. All of whom have gone on to do things other than art, music, theatre, or writing.

I - on the other hand - would love to make a career doing art, music, theatre, and/or writing.

But I need art classes to be able to do the stuff I envision.
I can't play an instrument, nor carry a tune.
Let's not even discuss my very limited (as in teeny) acting resume, despite the fact that that's what my Associates degree was in.

Thus, I write.

Which reminds me - I need to get back to it. Chapter 12 is growing moldy in its MS Word file. I've left one character standing there with a burn on his hand! Poor guy. That'll teach him to stick his hand in a fire while cooking. Yep. The sad part is, I'm liking our story at Quick Shtick Writing better than the one I'm writing alone! Mine is quickly becoming a romance, and I fear it's somewhat melodramatic. *grumble* I'll have to have my husband help me weed out the overly "chick flick" bits after I've got a full first draft.

But not tonight. Tonight, my brain needs rest. And carnage. Errr. Just computer game carnage, I swear! After whipping that web page into reasonable shape, I feel like beating some mindless evil into the ground next. It ought to get me in the right mood for bed, don't you think?

Okay, Diablo... ready or not, here I come...

G'night!

And now,

Would you rather:
1. in one sitting, eat 5 gallons of cottage cheese OR one raw hamburger?
One raw hamburger. No contest. I loathe cottage cheese! My mom used to eat raw hamburger meat when she was making dinners with it, and so did I until one health class when they told us what could be in it! That ended that for me. But I'd still choose it over cottage cheese.
2. be forced to watch a video of your grandmother stripping OR pour 4 drops of lemon juice in one eye?
Ow... tough one. If it's my grandmother in her "younger days", then I'll take that one. But if it's the old version before she died... *blink, tears, blink* Pass the lemon juice. *shudder*
3. work behind a desk, in a cubicle, for 9 hours per day OR work in the new york sewers for 4 hours per day?
Sewers. I bet it pays better too. Besides, I can't smell very well, so it really wouldn't bother me much. I'd just have to buy some industrial soap to appease the family is all.
4. not have any internet access for a week OR get nothing but porn spam emails for a week?
Porn spam. Although I only just got rid of most of the e-mail addresses that were flooding with that crap, I'd still be unable to survive without internet for a whole week. Unless it was conveniently timed with a vacation on a beach or something - then I'd like to keep my box spam-free.

All distracted...

I sat down to write this blog and realized what I'd been forgetting to do all day, while distracted with other things. I forgot to write my Quick Shtick Writing post!! ACK!! So I just now wrote it. At least I still got it in on the same day. Mind you, I still need to do my Tuesday meme... which means I'll post that next and then tell you what I was all distracted about....

Because Tonight, Tonight, Tonight...

I've suddenly got that Genesis song stuck in my head now. I'm wishing I'd already burned it from CD to MP3 so I could just click and listen to it and be done with it, but I haven't gotten to that one yet. In fact I've gotten a bit behind on the stack of CDs I want copied to my computer. Especially since it includes most of the ones I own. Apparently I should have just put my computer upstairs - next to the damn stereo - and saved myself a bunch of trouble. But I like being able to make mixes of different songs and soundtracks on my computer to suit my mood while writing or playing or whatever else I happen to be putzing about at when I sit here.

But right now I have a headache, so having one song running circles in my brain is not exactly helping. For some reason, the loud splashing of the waterfall behind me isn't helping either.

S'cuse me a sec...

*turns off waterfall*

Okay, that ought to help. That and the aspirin I took about ten minutes ago anyway.

I am going to blow stuff off this evening. I got some work done for my boss today and e-mailed it off, so I only have one bit from him currently on my stack and I expect I'll take care of that tomorrow. I believe that one isn't urgent in any way. And the power supply I ordered for my other PC showed up today, but I don't feel like dealing with disappointment tonight if the CD drive I have currently mounted in it doesn't work. If that's the case, then I'm back to square one on that box again. I've only one other CD drive left to try after that, before either ordering one or "borrowing" one temporarily from my main computer - which I really don't want to do. I try to keep my boxes independent of one another. Although it becomes difficult with the laptop as it doesn't have a floppy drive on it! It didn't seem like it would be a problem until I realized I needed specific drivers that I had on another computer in order to hook it up to the network that first time. It seems silly to burn an entire CD for two lousy teeny little files.

Bad news for today though is that Brian's USB mini disk thingy I got him for his Father's Day/Congrats on your first draft gift is mucked up somehow. It's got a 30 day warrantee though, so I'll call tomorrow for a return number and exchange it for, hopefully, one that works. He's having trouble with files being copied onto it becoming unreadable gibberish when opened from it. He hasn't lost anything because of it, since he's got it all on the hard drive at home too, but it's making it a pain to use. I just hope the people I bought it from don't give me any hassle.

Speaking of my husband - I finally got a CD of the last 3-4 months worth of pictures my father-in-law has been taking with his digital camera, and with a little cropping of one of the pictures taken while they were away in Canada, I now present to you a picture of my beloved husband:

I love that pic. I've printed it out on photo paper for myself already. There is one other pic that I'd love to show you, but it sounds like it might get edited into a pic for usage at the top of his blog, so I won't spoil it.

Anyway, I'm going to kick back and play a computer game or something for a little bit before bed now, so...

G'night!