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Wednesday, November 26, 2008

It's my party I can take the day off if I want to

It’s my 40th (ugh!) birthday today and the weather has decided to be gloomy and rainy. I could take it as an omen, but I happen to like a rainy day every now and then, and since it rarely rains here, I’m thinking it’s my lucky day.

I was going to edit a serious post and work at my incredibly rewarding job but I have decided to take the day off, a decision I am sure to regret on Friday when I have to pay the piper and make up the hours, but what’s the point of being old if you can’t do whatever the heck you feel like doing, right? (That is right, isn’t it?)

Tuesday, November 25, 2008

Because having good role models is vital

For my son’s Literature class (he’s a sophomore) he had to pick a biography to read and do a presentation on. My sweet child decided there was no one more interesting to him than Jimi Hendrix. Be honest, when you think of all the people who have made significant contributions to society I know he’s on your list. You can’t fool me.

In order to receive the best grade possible the students were asked to bring props that represented their famous person. My son left the house this morning with an electric guitar and a ziploc bag full of oregano.

I fully expect a call from the principal any minute.

Monday, November 24, 2008

Don't start with me.

I had a hard time blogging last week. It wasn’t that I didn’t have anything to say, I always have something to say. I just couldn’t seem to get it my thoughts together enough for public consumption. (By the end of this you might be wondering just exactly what my standards are for public consumption, and all I can say is you should thank your lucky stars I didn’t post much last week.)

I’m thinking of asking the government for a bailout (do they have any idea what a joke this whole bailout business has become-or was from the start?). I just need to figure out what my industry is. I’m thinking something along the lines of “Overworked overwhelmed women”….. The headline will say something like-“Millions of Women Who Haven’t Been Taken Seriously for Years Asking for Aid”—

Usually I hate playlists on blogs----I know, everyone else LOVES them. I like to have several pages open at once and if you get 2 or 3 of those things going at the same time it’s not pretty. BUT, this morning I went here and what to my wondering ears should I hear but Modern English. If everyone had a playlist like that I wouldn’t mind them so much.  Melt With You is one of my favorite songs ever.  I knew you were wondering.

As you can see, my thoughts seem to be flowing quite freely this morning so I think we are back on track. (that was a close one) I have all kinds of half written post from last week, I’m getting them all tidy and will be posting about things like, book group, sad movies, Pat Tillman, my dreaded birthday, and fashion (which I know NOTHING about, so that should be incredibly amusing). Try to keep up.

Thursday, November 20, 2008

As long as you are sending Christmas cards anyway......

I just read about this organization that sends cards to the families of deployed soldiers-

Dear Army Family

Click on the link to read a post about them and to get the details about how you can help.

Also-

Any Soldier  sends mail to the soldiers themselves. 



 

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

It's all fun and games til you're staring down the barrel of a loaded birthday cake.

Once upon a time (like when I was 35) I used to go around saying things like, I look forward to turning 40, and things like, women of 40 represent wisdom and experience. I even said things like “I look forward to turning 40.” I wasn’t scared of it at all.

I will be 40 in one week.

Somehow I’m not feeling as wise as I thought I would.

Funny how that works.

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

Dear Door to Door Windshield Repair Guy,

I know the economy sucks, and I am sorry if this is the best employment you can find, but I just have to tell you that when you keep talking after I have nicely let you know I am not interested through the small crack I have opened the door so my large barking dog cannot eat you, I’m serious. I’m not trying to make you work harder for the sale. I’m not trying to get a better deal. Windshield repair is not the sort of impulse buy I’m known to make.

Sincerely,
The lady who hopes you find a better job soon

Sunday, November 16, 2008

Black Friday, do you or don't you?

I usually don't, because I hate crowds, but I keep hearing that this year is going to be a jackpot.

What do you think?

Saturday, November 15, 2008

Like I don't have anything better to do.

Garnet Hill has the BEST sweaters and boots. The problem is they are pretty expensive, well, out of the range of my budget anyway. I still like to get the catalog and plan my dream wardrobe. Did you do that when you were a little girl? Or boy?

Back in the olden days, a few times a year, my mom would get a Sears or a JCPenny’s catalog. They were the big ones, with not only clothes and shoes but furniture and tools too, I loved it. I would pour over the pages, planning all that I would buy if I had the most successful lemonade stand in town.

It was always kind of bittersweet, dreaming of all I would buy but knowing I would never be able to.…………..If your lemonade stand hit the big time what would you buy?

Friday, November 14, 2008

Thursday, November 13, 2008

I’m kind of a jerk.

Several years ago my mother-in-law gave us this painting.


She had taken some art classes in the 70’s. She explained how she had never really liked it all that much and that she thought the frame was really ugly, but she hated to get rid of it. There’s not much of anything she doesn’t hate to get rid of (she once had me throw away a broken plate while she closed her eyes because she “couldn’t bear” to do it herself.) My husband inherited this quality and is also super sentimental and keeps everything (I’m not kidding, he has a STACK of programs from his grandma’s funeral that he’s hanging on to “just in case”). A real work of art created by a family member was a total jackpot in his eyes. I knew it was pointless to fight it so we took the painting home, a compromise was reached, and it has been happily hanging in our laundry room for years.

This afternoon the shoe dropped on the other foot, you might say. I received several paintings that were from my grandparent’s home. My grandmother died last year and my grandfather is living with my uncle now so the house is being cleaned out and their possessions divvied up between the grandchildren.
As I unwrapped the frames memories of summers spent on the farm came rushing back to me and I was so grateful to have these mementos. Granted, their value is more sentimental than Antiques Road show, but to me they are priceless. I was trying to decide where they would be best displayed when my husband came in to have a look and asked me if I planned to hang them in the laundry room with his painting. Suddenly I felt like a big meanie for banishing his treasures for all this time.

It looks like our laundry room is on it’s way to becoming quite the showplace.

Like CNN only more accurate.

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

The rain in Spain falls mainly in the plains.

We moved around a lot while I was growing up, four states just during my second grade year. My dad was a little undecided career wise. He finally settled on the Army which led to more moving around. My parents divorced when I was 13, we happened to be living in Kentucky so that’s where most of us stayed.

Most native Kentuckians have a pleasant southern drawl which I picked up as a child, but I suppose not having been born and bred there it didn’t really take because when I left Kentucky at 19 it wasn’t long before I left my sweet southern accent too.

When I joined the Army my roommate was from Massachusetts and I soon found myself sounding like a Kennedy. Not to worry, after basic training I headed off to North Carolina and fell back into the comfortable twang of my youth.

I stayed in North Carolina until I was married and we moved to Arizona. Once again I took up the language of the natives. A language I thought had no identifiable characteristics. I was wrong. It seems that in this part of the valley we are so relaxed that we leave the endings off of words. For example, shopping becomes shoppin, and so forth. There are a few other little things that I have noticed myself doin lately that bother me, mostly because it just sounds sloppy and lazy. I’m now making an effort to trade my Arizona accent for a neutral way of speaking, but I’m starting to wonder if there is any such thing as “plain english”.

What do you think, do you have a regional dialect? Do you wish you did? Which do you enjoy? Which ones drive you up a wall?



**P.S. Hooray for pharmaceuticals. I am feeling better. Lighter. I’m not entirely out of the dank dark forest, but I am getting there. The icky thing (ha, one of the icky things) about depression is the physical symptoms that you think are in your head because you can’t think clearly. The exhaustion and the heaviness, not being able to concentrate, the irritability, all so real, yet seemingly out of my control.

I’m not so tired and, I am happy to report, not so irritable. I’m still feeling a little heavy. I did read a whole book over the weekend, so that’s something on the concentration front, right?

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

Let’s have a theme week, shall we?

Sorry Becky, I hate to disappoint, I guess I embellished a little, I don’t really know any bank robbers, this will have to do.

Do you borrow? I try not to. I’m not sure why, well, that’s not entirely true. I have issues about lending, which makes me uncomfortable borrowing. There are plenty of people in my life that I feel fine sharing with, but others……………not so much.

Like people who borrow my books but don’t return them, then I have to make excuses to get them back—like “hey my sister wants to read that book if you’re done with it” ( I don't even have a sister!) or “do you have ….. I can’t remember who I lent it to?” (which is totally not true, I never forget). One friend, who I used to think was great, but she’s on yesterday’s list too, maybe I need to reconsider her, she and I have the same taste in books, so I love for her to read what I have read so we can discuss it, BUT either she doesn’t return my books, she forgets to or she lends them to someone at work OR she returns them but they look like they have gone through a wash cycle. It bugs me.

How about this? Once I introduced two of my friends who had a mutual hobby, their only connection was me. Friend A borrowed a tool from friend B and never returned it. When I asked her about it she said “Hmmm, I know that thing is around here somewhere………….” But it WASN’T. I was so embarrassed that I bought a new tool to replace the lost tool, because I felt like a tool for introducing them to one another. It just seems so disrespectful to me to have no regard for someone else’s possessions.

What do you think? Am I too attached to my worldly things? Should I adopt an attitude of “easy come easy go” (right, like that would ever happen)? Do you only lend things that you don’t mind never seeing again?

Monday, November 10, 2008

The truth is

Do you embellish? I’m not talking about with a bedazzler, what you do with rhinestones in the privacy of your own home is none of my business. I mean, you know, do you add a little here and there to make things more interesting? James Frey did it, and I have heard it claimed that most memoirs have been spiced up to make them more appealing to the reader. It makes sense, I suppose, not too many people’s lives can be captivating all the time.

I know someone who has a signal she uses to let those “in the know” –know that she’s adding. She’s not at all embarrassed about the fact that when she’s telling you a story it’s been tweaked. In fact she thinks she’s doing us a favor, no one wants to listen to a boring story right?

I have another friend who tells about all of these outrageous things that have supposedly happened to her. The first couple of times you think “wow, she has an interesting life.” But after a while it wears off and you think (or at least I think) “nobody has this many crazy experiences.” The thing is, most of them are feasible, but the embellishment gives it away. Normal life is not always outrageous.

When I’m writing or telling a story, I try to stay within the lines, my fear is that someone could read this who attended the same event and call me out. How embarrassing would that be? (Liar! Liar! Pants on fire!!)

Then there are those who are just flat out liars.

One of my friends openly admits that she’s a good liar. She’s almost boasting when she tells you. She doesn’t feel guilty at all. The problem is now I don’t believe anything she says. I mean, why would she lie to everyone else and not to me? I think I would rather not know that she’s an excuse maker upper (among other things).

I just realized that this is making me sound like my friends are a bunch of losers, maybe I need to get out more, or join a support group, though it seems like you’d be more likely to meet dishonest people in support groups, but that’s probably just my skewed perception.

Anyhow, now that you know I spend my time with fabricators, one more. I have this friend who has for years told me what a great guy her husband was, to the point that it was almost too good to be true, not to mention if you spent anytime with the guy you had your doubts. Now they are divorcing and she is telling me all of these horrible things about him with the excuse that she didn’t want me to know before because she was embarrassed, which I buy, but now she’s angry and I think she might be exaggerating his faults to make him look worse (which believe me is not necessary, he does a fine job of making himself look like the creep that he is).

I am a nervous person, I would rather be boring than have to worry about keeping track of who knows what. How about you? Do you pretend to be something you’re not? I’m obviously not going to think less of you, I mean, really, all of my friend are phonies. Tomorrow I’ll tell you about my cronies who are bank robbers.

Sunday, November 9, 2008

I'm amazed

*This was (I thought) scheduled to post Sunday. oops!

As I watch my fearless girl swim across the pool, with its temperature a brisk fifty degrees, I am overcome with gratitude. I am in awe of her confidence. I bask in her sweetness and her strong will wears me out. She is so many things that I never was and for the life of me I can’t find a way to take the credit for it. I have done nothing special. She’s the last, the bottom of the totem pole with four brothers above her. If you were to ask her though, she’d tell you she’s the eagle on the top.

I hope so much for her. I hope so much for all of them, but she’s my girl. I know how the deck is stacked, and I want her to have choices. Choices I didn’t have or choices I didn’t have the courage to make. Being a parent is so joyously heart wrenching. I love it and it terrifies me at the same time.

Saturday, November 8, 2008

What I did today

Let's just say, it's not Grease.

Thursday, November 6, 2008

it's good for you

I’m trying not to blog about being depressed because it’s, you know, depressing. I can’t seem to get my mind to focus on anything else though. It just feels like I am saturated with it. Really, I am just waiting for the Prozac to kick in like it always has before, then I should be able to think a little more clearly.

In the meantime how about some art? These were painted by Mark Rothko.

Orange and Yellow
Red, Orange, Tan and Purple
I love them. Yes, I realize that to some people they look like “just a couple of colors of paint slapped on a canvas” (thanks honey), but when I look at them I feel happy and “warm”. Rothko wanted people to engage on an emotional level with his paintings, he wasn’t trying to make a statement, he was painting his feelings. I get that. I know not everyone does, and that’s okay. Unfortunately his paintings got progressively darker as his depression worsened and he eventually took his own life. ---------------ALERT -----------there is no hidden warning here, just compassion for a man who wasn’t able to overcome his illness.


*I am actually feeling a little better today and I appreciate all of the supportive comments.

Tuesday, November 4, 2008

This just in.....

On the brightside it's finally election day.

After a weekend that included using all of my super powers to not cry over, well, everything and nothing, then giving up and spending the ENTIRE day Sunday in tears and scaring the crap out of my kids.---It hasn’t been that quiet and peaceful in our house in 17 years, I could hear them arguing in whispered voices so they wouldn’t bother me, and they kept patting me and asking me if I needed anything. It was quite pathetic really.

The grand finale was last night when I had to sit them all down and tell them that it wasn’t their fault I was crying, I’m just nuts -except I didn’t say “nuts”, I said things like depressed and serotonin, and medication. The older boys seemed pretty relieved that there were drugs for my condition,  but then my 10 year old asked me if it was like on the commercials when they say “can cause thoughts of suicide”? (He has also memorized the entire Plavix commercial—we are so proud). I started crying again, of course. Wouldn’t you?

For 5 years I have controlled my depression without medication. It felt like a really big victory to me, which of course is silly, but seriously, depressed people are seriously silly; just not in that 6 six year old knock- knock joke kind of way.

So today I started taking Prozac again. My shrink thinks it’s a good idea. That’s comforting. Therapy alone isn’t going to cut it. I really thought I was past needing medication, but here I am, three weeks away from turning 40, falling apart again. It feels like failure. Whether or not turning 40 has anything to do with it has yet to be determined, but it aint helping (I don’t let my kids say ain’t).

Monday, November 3, 2008

Fourth

I have been tagged. This is the fourth picture from the fourth file.

Unlike some people I do not love to be tagged, but I am being a good sport and playing along. I will not however be tagging anyone else. Let this be a warning---Tags and chain letters find the end of the line at my house. Sorry.

Sunday, November 2, 2008

It smells kind of like........

A couple of days ago my husband and I were going somewhere in the car, and he asked me if I was wearing perfume because there was a smell that was taking his breath away, and not in a good way, more like a choking him to death way. Well, since I don’t OWN any perfume I assured him that wasn’t the problem so he must be imagining it. He put his window down, got some fresh air and I forgot all about it.

Until……Last night he told me he had figured out what the “odor” was the other day when he couldn’t breathe in the car. “It’s your shampoo. It’s horrible.” Good to know.

I’ll be switching shampoos immediately. Thanks.

Saturday, November 1, 2008

Trick or treat

I am still having a hard time believing I did it, but last night I acutally wore the "worker bee" costume and went to the ward party as part of a hive. There was a queen bee, a killer bee, a spelling bee, and 2 bee or not 2bee. Whew! We made an entrance with the Bee Gee's on the sound system.
People looked at us!!!
For lots of people it's probably no big deal, but for me the combination of wearing a costume AND being the center of attention was almost more than I could stand. My husband made fun of me for being such a ninny. Anyhow, I survived it and was rewarded when I arrived home and found that the gods of trick or treat had smiled upon me and left this in my mail box.

 
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