Thursday, April 29, 2010

Don’t get me wrong, I like a good party as much as the next guy.

Because technology makes it so easy to send a message to all of your contacts at once I get all kinds of crap in my in-box (I'm sure you can relate).  Most of the time I can tell by the sender if it’s even going to be worth my (extremely valuable) time to take a glance. It's like the boy who cried wolf. There are 5 or 6 people who are gonna be in big trouble if they ever try to send me something that I actually need to read. Seriously, a person can only read break the lucky elastic so many times before they're forced to send you to the junk file.  Ya know what I mean?

Last week I opened something that will get you sent to the blacklist even faster than good luck rainbows or political hysteria……

The Evite.

Maybe I’m old fashioned or crazy (or both) but I think E-vites are so incredibly rude and annoying that I have decided to decline them across the board on principle. So there. (I'm not sure which principal, but just for fun lets call it the Emily Post Principal) Really, you don’t have to Martha Stewart anything for me, but is a phone call too much to ask?

If you haven’t had the pleasure of being “e-vited” to a party you’re probably saying to yourself “What the heck is she talking about?” (maybe you say that every time I post)

An e-vite is an electronic invitation. You go to the website, enter your guest list and other details to create a summons which you can then e-mail to everyone on your contact guest list. During the creation process you have the option of adding features like a music playlist, guest reminders, asking the guest to bring something, or my favorite, request for payment from guests. I’m sorry, but I think that it’s just tacky. If you want me to bring potato salad, or help pay for the keg, fine. I know kegs aren't cheap but I want you to ask me to my face, or my mailbox.  I don’t require an engraved invitation, but something about the group e-mail rubs me the wrong way. Why is that? I don’t hate technology, I don’t mind group e-mails for other things, even flyers are fine with me—but something about the e-vite just rubs me the wrong way. It seems so impersonal. I guess I want you to have to work for it. (I really need help, don't I?)

I have been e-vited to birthday parties, barbeques, and baby showers. Sometimes even by people I like. In the past I’ve attended a few of those wing-dings, but let it be known from this point on, if you want me to show my super-duper popular face at your function you’re going to have to do more than enter my e-mail address and hit send.

How about you? Do you mind e-vites? Have you (gasp!)sent e-vites? Do you think I should have my medication adjusted so I’m not so sensitive?

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

Sometimes I listen to Pink Floyd in the afternoon, for reasons I cannot name it turns me to mush.

These are my grandparents.  Pretty cute, huh?

I love the way they’re looking at each other. He’s obviously just said something funny. Knowing my grandpa he thought it was much funnier than she did, but she likes him, you can tell, so she's humoring him. I don’t think I ever saw my grandparents look at each other like that, I’m so glad someone captured this moment.

I didn't know this version of them, in fact, if I hadn't found this picture when I was sorting through some old junk, I might not have believed it existed.

My grandparents weren’t really affectionate when we were growing up. They were practical, there was work to do and standing around being all sappy wasn’t going to get the pigs fed. We knew they loved us, it just wasn’t something they went around saying. They were "show-ers".  I don't think I ever even saw them hug, forget make crazy eyes at each other. They taught my brothers and I how to work and to stick with something, even if it was hard. When our parents divorced and everything they had suspected about my mom and dad turned out to be true and my mother made it difficult for them to see us, my grandparents still made sure we spent summers with them... on the farm..... in the middle of nowhere. They were always at our graduations and weddings, even if it meant driving across the entire stinking country to attend. My grandpa read to me, sometimes from the World Book Encyclopedias he sold on the side when he wasn't teaching school or working on the farm. There were no simple answers, if we had a question my grandpa loved to help us look things up.  This was in the olden days, before Google. You had to REALLY want to know and have some time on your hands if you asked my grandpa questions. At the time I thought it was such a bore, but I know that his love of learning and bottomless curiosity had a huge impact on me. My grandma taught me how to weed the garden and make beds with hospital corners. I remember her cleaning chickens (in her kitchen) and watching from a safe distance as she fearlessly shooed away a giant hog who was rooting up her front yard.
I always loved and respected my grandparents, but a lot of years passed before I felt what you might call "a fondness" for them.  Why does it seem to work like that?
When my grandma was in the hospital for the last time I called her and told her I loved her. She seemed caught off guard, it took a few seconds for her to return the sentiment. She just wasn't used to saying it. A few months after she died my grandpa came to visit. He was looking at pictures and came across one of the two of them. His eyes got teary and he said “I really miss my sweetheart.” I had never seen my grandpa cry before. Since then he's started to forget things. But not his sweetheart.
I'm a lot like my grandparents.  I don't believe in sleeping in, I like to relax just as much as the next guy and we can do that, right after we finish our homework and do the dishes and fold the laundry and clean the gutters........ (I'm kidding, we live in Arizona, we don't have gutters you sillys!). I want my kids to be ready because life is not easy.  In fact it leans to the hard side.  Is that so bad?  But I don't want them to have to come across an old picture in a junk drawer before they know I have a soft side too (mostly because I have a couple of kids whom I suspect will NEVER clean out another drawer again after they leave our home). I do have a soft side, I just have a hard time showing it before the oven is clean.
Oh Life, why must you be so complicated?
{I never ever ever saw my grandma wearing jewelry, had I not seen this with mine own two eyes I would not have believed it.}

Friday, April 16, 2010

Double True

~Because my insanity knows no limits I have decided to actually make a meal every single day for the two weeks and see if my family notices. If you have any suggestions for tasty one/crock pot meals (who am I kidding? Tasty- in one pot?) that do not require stewed tomatoes, mushrooms, onions, anything green, or smell funny my children would love to eat them. So suggest away. Please.

~I have decided that I must have a pair of track pants to be an effective soccer coach (not that I am implying in ANY way that I am NOT an effective soccer coach, cause I am. Really. Why are you laughing?) And I’m really going to need those pants by 4:30 this afternoon. Never mind the fact that I have not had a pair of track pants for the last 3 months and I have been a perfectly……..um.....present coach without them. The decision has been made and now I must find some pants. What?

~I love my daughter, but some days I am overcome by a casserole of emotions (maybe I should make one of those for dinner) when I drop her off at school. Relief, cause, you know…..the conversation about me being the meanest mom in the whole wide world is on hold for 6 hours. Gratitude for the public school system (you didn't see that coming, did ya?). Remorse over the fact that her teacher is not fairly compensated for having to continue where I leave off everyday. Proud that she is so strong willed and confident. Comfort because, um, seriously, no one is gonna mess with that girl, not if they know what’s good for them. And tired, just really, really tired. Too tired for 7:36 a.m.

~I need to call my mother today, and by need I mean she has successfully surrounded herself with people who are more crazy pants than she is and my curiosity is killing me. I really want to call her, but I haven’t told her about my brain thing yet (I’m waiting. What if there’s nothing to tell? Trust me. My mom is a master at making mountains from molehills, and she doesn't need a lot to work with. If she’s going blow things out of proportion, I’d like to know at least she had the facts to begin with. Left to her imagination I could be having a triple lobotomy in no time.) If I call her and don’t mention it I'll probably be in trouble later. I have to decide if my desire to hear about the nuts in her life is greater than my fear of the guilt she will try to make me feel when she finds out I didn’t tell her I almost died in church. ( I didn’t really almost die in church, I’m being theatric. Is it working?)

~Have any of you read The Piano Teacher? I’m just a few chapters in and I’m on the fence. Is this going to irritate me like Loving Frank did? If so, tell me now and put me out of my misery. I am not having much tolerance for the selfish cheating character these days. It’s probably a phase.

~Did you know that yesterday was National High Five Day? Wow.  A day for high fivers. That’s fine if you're a high-five kind of guy, but I know some people lean more towards the Stop Drop and Roll. When do they get a day?

Thursday, April 15, 2010

And I'm gonna make them call me Oda Mae too

When I called my brother Monday to tell him about my little "incident" but more importantly to get an update on the soap opera that is our mother's life, I was shocked and saddened to learn that he does not even keep up with our mama's drama.  Wow.  The amount of restraint (or apathy) that must take is unimaginable to me.

Since we couldn't talk about "Life on the Mountain" (that's the unofficial name of the Lifetime movie about my mom's life, do you like it?) we were forced to talk about me.  It was super fun. I think he was trying to make me feel better when discussing my agony over the publicness of my incident he said "Well, at least they didn't rush you up to the pulpit and throw you a snake to handle.  In some churches they would have!"  I suppose, when viewed from that angle, he's right.  Things could always be worse. He really has a gift.

Speaking of gifts, I think I'm going to take his advice and start telling my kids that I can "see" things now.  You know, like Whoopi in Ghost.

In other news, the world is all abuzz about cilantro, I personally find it very tasty, but it turns out not everyone does.  There's even a movement against this poor defenseless little herb. Imagine that.

 How about you? Cilantro? Yes? No? On Tuesday afternoons?

Wednesday, April 14, 2010

Crafty, like ice is cold

I listened to The Beastie Boys yesterday (I know!) and now that line is stuck in my head. Those guys are (were?) so clever.  I'm telling ya.  I sprang out of bed at 5 a.m. this morning because this post was running through my mind, that was a few hours ago, I seem to be having a little trouble getting it from my head to the screen. Go figure. My brain gives me so much trouble.  Sheesh.  I don't know why I keep it around.

Sunday I had a "little" episode at church.  It started out with a ringing in my ears that turned to a loudish buzzing followed by an out of body experience in which I couldn't make my body do anything at all but be weird and ended up being the longest scariest 5 minutes of my entire life. Did I mention I was at church? It was like all of my nightmares coming together at once. Not only was I surely going to die, but it was going to happen in front of my children and 100 other people. AT CHURCH. In front of people. I generally try to avoid making a spectacle of myself in front of people. 

When the buzzing\ringing went away and I was able to stand, my husband insisted on taking me to the hospital.  For once I agreed that I should probably see a dr. We spent 4 hours in the emergency room then I saw my own dr. on Monday and between the two it has been determined that what happened was "very unusual" and "hmmm, I haven't seen anything quite like this before".  Depending on who you talk to, it was either a T.I.A, which is like a stroke, but not as much fun, or an Atypical Migraine, which is nothing like a regular migraine except it involves your brain.  More testing is required to come to anything close to a real conclusion, so for now I just wait.  Woo hoo! In the mean time I have come to my own conclusion that lots of doctors really have no idea what they're talking about and the only thing for sure is that I am as crazy as ever.

My children however have learned a very valuable lesson and that is, if you are going to wig out be sure to have an audience, and there is not a more generous audience to be found than the members of our ward.  The outpouring began Sunday evening when I'm told homemade cookies were delivered. I cannot verify this because while I was in my bed trying not to vomit my children devoured them.  On Monday there was a dinner, with dessert, and yesterday I received homemade jam, fresh bread and...

not one, but two bouquets of flowers.
Sadly when the kind women came to deliver their concern and food I turned in to Chattier Cathy.  I wish I could blame it on brain damage, but truth is sometimes I just cannot seem to shut up. Oy. As the door closed behind them I just wanted to die. This is why I try to avoid....well....any situation that involves anyone besides those who are close enough to me to already know I'm a giant dork but tolerate me anyway.(Which includes you if you're reading this, I mean, no one forced you to click over here.) Melting down at church is not ideal for someone with my lack of social skills.

On the upside, I'm not dead. Whew.


Tuesday, April 13, 2010

Please enjoy the music while your party is reached...

I'm having some "technical difficulties".  Be back soon.

ps~Don't you guys hate those ringback tone thingys? Ugh. Me Too!!!

Friday, April 2, 2010

Is you is or is you ain't my constituency?

Watching this video filled my head with so many questions I hardly know where to start.  Is Guam really in danger of capsizing?  Who voted for this guy?  Why am I not a member of the House of Representatives? Is the least widest place the same as the most narrow? Is there really fruit in Fruity Pebbles? Have other islands tipped over from being too populated? Am I  the only one who was not aware that Guam even has a coral reef, much less that it's in danger? Is my hair too short? Do Guam's residents know that Hank Johnson has their backs?  And if so, how do they sleep at night?

Honestly, I can't decide if I should laugh or cry.

Thursday, April 1, 2010


Dear Universe,
Would a day off every so often kill ya?

Just curious.

Yours exhaustedly,
A tired tired lady who has a to do list that looks like it's going to outlast her emotional energy by a mile or so