whoamell:
RT @tonyrobbins: “Passion, it lies in all of us, sleeping,waiting, & though unwanted...unbidden...it will stir... open its jaws and howl. It speaks to us....
whoamell:
RT @tonyrobbins: ... If we could live without passion maybe we'd know some kind of peace..but we would be hollow. Without passion we'd be truly dead.” Whedon
whoamell:
RT @paulocoelho: 11/03 - Close the door,change the record,clean the house. Stop being who you were, become who you are.
Do you ever feel like it is just taking everything you have to go through the motions of existing through the day?
Thankfully, it's a very busy time, which is helping keep me preoccupied from other thoughts that want to creep into my head and overtake my will to breathe. Funny relationship with me and stress, it somehow compels me to clean the shit out of house, which isn't such a bad thing but I tend to go overboard and for the last three days my hands have been permeated with the smell of bleach and I can't seem to rid them of it no matter how much Johnson's baby lotion I rub on them.
I'm sorry to be such a downer. I'm just in a rough place right now and I don't know what to do about it. I don't think there is anything I can do about it.
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Ok time for something else. Despite my pensiveness, here are things which are bringing me a little bit of happiness today:
Red Wings winning game two against the Blackhawks last night in OT
Coffee and the fact that the barista at the coffee stand inside our building calls me by name
Two days away from having three days off
Ryan Adams
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Can you hear me? I sent a message out into the dark.
I'm reeling from the events of the last few days. None of which I will be discussing here but still those which are nonetheless leaving me hollow and broken.
I guess the pain of whiplash reminds you that you are alive.
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I've been putting some considerable thought into the message we received at church yesterday. We are continuing the series on the "Creed" and yesterday's message focused on the forgiveness of sins and the resurrection. I was especially struck by a video played of Penn Jillette (of Penn & Teller fame). A self proclaimed and outspoken atheist, he was giving a personal commentary on an experience which occurred after one of his shows in which a man came up and spoke to him and gave him a bible. I'm trying to locate the video to post it here but what he said had quite an impact on me.
*edit* here is the video of the message.
and here is just the Penn video.
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I've started to put together the video for Kaylie's graduation party. I took some old negatives to Walgreens yesterday to have some photos reprinted. Turns out, they don't have the equipment to run reprints on 110 film anymore but they did get the 35mm printed ok. I ended up having some photos from Woodstock and also some from a trip I took to New Orleans with Olaf, included with the prints. It's amazing and sad to look at those photos of a younger me. I see her and how happy she was in those moments....she didn't know what lies ahead. Pain, sorrow, end of a marriage, loss of her parents, raising children on her own, finding love just to lose it again. I wish I could tell her. Maybe she could have cherished those moments just a little bit longer.
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Twenty years from now, you’ll regret the things you didn’t do, rather than the things you did. - Mark Twain
If that doesn't compel you to do a careful combing of your life's back stairs then I don't know what does.
If you followed me over from my old blog on Blogger then you would know that this is probably round 4 or so of this exercise.
Pick 15 people and say something about them that you wouldn't normally. Names are intentionally omitted and don't assume that what I am writing is about you. Put yours in the comments.
You need to grow up. You are 36 years old...not 17. Your addiction and self destruction is what has pushed your husband and your son away. Grow up and get your shit together.
I'm glad you found someone and I'm happy for you that you are finally doing the things that you should be doing but I still think you are gay.
I miss you so much...every single day. It still hurts and I still cry.
Letting go of our friendship was one of the best things I could have done for myself. I don't carry bad feelings for you and wish you only the best.
Thank you for being my friend for the last 28 years. I am sorry I missed your wedding. I love you, friend.
I'm so proud of you but I'm scared to death to watch you go out into the world on your own.
I can't believe the way you manipulate people. Working with you makes me miserable. You are always playing the victim. One of these days your lies will catch up with you and I sure as hell hope I am there when they do.
Sometimes I don't know whether I should hug you or kick you in the balls.
I haven't known you long but I absolutely adore you. I'm so glad we've become friends.
I'm thankful that we have put our differences behind us and that out of tragedy we were able to find common ground. I've missed having you in my life.
I'm so happy for you that you are finally experiencing the love that you so very much deserve.
I wish we lived closer and could spend more time together. I think I talk to you the most out of anyone else in my life and you are 800 miles away!
You give me that soda in my veins feeling. I think you are perhaps the most amazing person I've ever known and I can't help but fall for you.
I try to keep myself up on the goings on in the world but I've had a very long and busy week which has kept my exposure to current events to a minimum. Luckily, HMG is paying attention and pointed this out to me.
An iPod?
REALLY?
You are the leader of the free world, paying your first visit to the Queen of England, and you think to yourself, "Self, what that Old Queen needs is an iPod. Pre-loaded with music and photos."
(I just reread that last sentence and giggled, thinking it would likely be something I'd overhear walking around in a gay bar.)
I've got to get better about writing in this damn thing. I just renewed my domain for another year, so you would think that I'd be all like "I just blew another $109 on this mutha, of course I'm going to write something." Yeah, not so much. Apparently, I just like knowing that I have a blog. Writing in it is an after thought.
I could probably make a killing if I could setup an auto-writing blog. Like maybe you could just enter key words like "crack" and "chicken noodle soup" then click a button and voila, you'd have an incredibly interesting and witty post about Dog the Bounty Hunter.
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Bennett came down with a fever yesterday. I could tell immediately when I picked him up from school that he wasn't quite right. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes droopy with that "I don't feel good" gaze. I checked his temp when we got home and sure enough, 101.5. Poor little guy. He slept the majority of the evening and ended up climbing in my bed around 2am. This means that I'm probably going to get it next, although I have been trying to bribe my immune system with chamomile and vitamin c to let this one slide by.
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Did everyone watch President Obama's news conference last night? I walked away from it bored and unmoved. Nothing he said reassured me that we are indeed on the "right" track. As a matter of fact, I'm really wondering just what the hell it is they are doing over there?
I sat there listening to him give campaign-style answers to specific questions about the economy and I just couldn't believe how shallow all the responses sounded. The answer regarding why he didn't speak publicly about the AIG bonuses pushed me right over the edge though. His response was that he waited because he wants to be certain that he knows what he is talking about before he speaks. I'm guessing that President Obama didn't catch the bonus restrictions info in the Dodd amendment on the first read through????? Was it not clearly spelled out? That must be it. Hell, I can relate. I had a similar experience that time a grammatically impenetrable translation of The Communist Manifesto kept me from further enjoying the works of Karl Marx and Co.
I think President Obama must think I'm a chump.
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In other news, I'm happy today. I am working from home, watching the rain fall through my window and enjoying the aroma of rosemary mint wallowing in my hair.
Myself and a few neighbors have been corresponding with the Hamilton County Sheriff's office for the last couple of weeks about our new neighbor. I got an email early last week from their office stating that they had been working with the adult parole supervisor and that they were encouraging him to find another place to live. Then, by the end of the week I received an email stating that he had moved. I'm not sure if I totally believe it yet and I will continue to keep an eye out for him but I do feel a little bit better.
The primary issue with where he was living in our neighborhood is that the elementary school is less than 1000 ft from where the scum bag lives and while that SHOULD be against the law for him to reside so close, inevitably it is not because of the time frame when this guy was convicted. Of raping a child under 13 years of age! Apparently his conviction date wasn't grandfathered into the new legislation. How the hell that happened, I seriously don't know.
At any rate, I did some research and it looks like that oversight will be remedied soon. The Ohio Senate passed "SB 42" which will make the 1000 ft rule retroactive no matter when the offense was committed. I'm not sure how long it will take for the Ohio House to get this through but I've heard that Governor Strickland is ready to sign it as soon as it gets to him.
I live on a quiet street, in a quiet, middle class, neighborhood. My neighbors take care of their yards and homes. They are friendly people who wave and always say hello to me when I'm out walking my dogs. My neighbors one house over to the right are awesome (and liberal!) and their son is also in 3rd grade. He and Bennett were BFFs from the start. Our kids play together after school about every other day....it seems one is always at the other's house. My neighbor across the street coordinates a luncheon twice a year for ladies on our street. We meet at a restaurant for a "garden" party in the summer and then again for another meal around the holidays and eat and do a yankee swap gift exchange for fun. The neighbors to the left are a retired couple and the husband is always loaning me various tools I need, but don't seem to have, when I'm fixing something or doing a home improvement project.
This is a good place to live. I got an email yesterday, however, that rocked my happy little suburban bliss.
You see, awhile back I signed up for this service through the Hamilton County Sheriff's office where I would receive an email alert whenever a sexual offender registers at an address in my neighborhood. I had pretty much forgotten about signing up for it until yesterday when I got an email alert letting me know that a child rapist had moved in just down the street.
I have to be really honest. This has got me freaked out. The house he is registered at is across the street and three houses down on the right. It has been occupied, although I don't really know the woman who lives there, but he is apparently living with her. It just makes me feel like I'm living in a fishbowl. Like potentially, this child raping barbarian bastard could be peering out his window, eyeing my house and more importantly my children with his perverted demented thoughts. Then I realized I was thinking a bit irrationally and I needed to calm the fuck down. I have to be cautious. I have to talk to my kids about being cautious. But I can't let the mere potential presence of this guy control or change the way we live. I haven't actually seen him yet, so I should probably get a reasonable handle on the situation before I do, and I go off and lose my shit.
So, I had a talk with Bennett last night and to be honest, I think I might have done more harm than good. I tried to explain things to him in a way that an 8 year old would understand without scaring or scarring him but he seemed pretty freaked out. How do you explain to child that there are adults out there who hurt kids on purpose? I just tried to reassure him that I would never let anyone him and that he can still play outside but he just has to be more cautious now.
I also talked to Kaylie and Jessen. I especially warned Kaylie because she is home alone sometimes in the afternoons and she walks the dogs after school. Since this man's victim was a female child, I want her to be especially careful. I told her that if she is home alone then the doors should be locked. If she takes the dogs for a walk she should take her key and lock the door before she goes. I realize this is probably common sense to other people but we really do live in a quiet neighborhood. I never lock the door when I'm out walking the dogs. Hell, there have been several occasions where I have left the house to go shopping or something and I have forgotten to lock the front door. Stupid, I know.
The thing is...this whole situation has me rattled. I am questioning myself and wondering, "Am I overreacting?" Maybe he isn't the serial pedophile I've painted him out to be in my head. Maybe if I really knew the situation then it wouldn't be what it seems. Maybe he was falsely convicted. All of these scenarios going through my head and then I kind of snap back to reality and I think , "why the fuck are you giving him the benefit of the doubt? This guy is convicted of raping a child!!!!".
I need some advice, friends. Am I nuts about this? Am I wreaking panic in my family and blowing this out of proportion? Am I not doing enough?
From this article in Time Magazine. It was so true, I just had to share.
Facebook is five. Maybe you didn't get it in your news feed, but it was in February 2004 that Harvard student Mark Zuckerberg, along with some classmates, launched the social network that ate the world. Did he realize back then in his dorm that he was witnessing merely the larval stage of his creation? For what began with college students has found its fullest, richest expression with us, the middle-aged. Here are 10 reasons Facebook is for old fogies:
1. Facebook is about finding people you've lost track of. And, son, we've lost track of more people than you've ever met. Remember who you went to prom with junior year? See, we don't. We've gone through multiple schools, jobs and marriages. Each one of those came with a complete cast of characters, most of whom we have forgotten existed. But Facebook never forgets.
2. We're no longer bitter about high school. You're probably still hung up on any number of petty slights, but when that person who used to call us that thing we're not going to mention here, because it really stuck, asks us to be friends on Facebook, we happily friend that person. Because we're all grown up now. We're bigger than that. Or some of us are, anyway. We're in therapy, and it's going really well. These are just broad generalizations. Next reason.
3. We never get drunk at parties and get photographed holding beer bottles in suggestive positions. We wish we still did that. But we don't.
4. Facebook isn't just a social network; it's a business network. And unlike, say, college students, we actually have jobs. What's the point of networking with people who can't hire you? Not that we'd want to work with anyone your age anyway. Given the recession — and the amount of time we spend on Facebook — a bunch of hungry, motivated young guns is the last thing we need around here.
5. We're lazy. We have jobs and children and houses and substance-abuse problems to deal with. At our age, we don't want to do anything. What we want is to hear about other people doing things and then judge them for it. Which is what news feeds are for.
6. We're old enough that pictures from grade school or summer camp look nothing like us. These days, the only way to identify us is with Facebook tags.
7. We have children. There is very little that old people enjoy more than forcing others to pay attention to pictures of their children. Facebook is the most efficient engine ever devised for this.
8. We're too old to remember e-mail addresses. You have to understand: we have spent decades drinking diet soda out of aluminum cans. That stuff catches up with you. We can't remember friends' e-mail addresses. We can barely remember their names.
9. We don't understand Twitter. Literally. It makes no sense to us.
10. We're not cool, and we don't care. There was a time when it was cool to be on Facebook. That time has passed. Facebook now has 150 million members, and its fastest-growing demographic is 30 and up. At this point, it's way cooler not to be on Facebook. We've ruined it for good, just like we ruined Twilight and skateboarding. So git! And while you're at it, you damn kids better get off our lawn too.
I don't own a gun. I also don't think poorly of those who do. It's a personal choice and I've heard varying reasons of why personal friends do own firearms and I don't feel like it's my place to judge whether they are legitimate or not. Bottom line, those are their reasons and that's how they feel. The 2nd Amendment gives them the right to own a gun and thus they have every right to do so.
That's America.
What I do take contention with is Americans who choose to exercise their 2nd Amendment right and then do so with no responsibility. If you are going to own a firearm, you have an innate responsibility to take care of it and prevent the loss of innocent lives due to accidental firing as a result of having that firearm. Simply put, keep your guns away from kids, JACKASSES.
Let's looks at this realistically. How often do we hear about gun owners using their firearms to protect their homes, property and families from intruders? . I can't even remotely begin to tell you the last time I heard of any such thing. Ok, so how about the last time you heard about a child shooting another child, or himself, or an adult with a loaded firearm that was just lying around a house and not properly cared for and the child not properly supervised? Yep, you read that about 2 seconds ago, huh? You can hear about it almost every day on the news. Why? Because people are fucking morons. I seriously doubt that our founding fathers knew how stupid Americans would get over the next century. I feel quite certain that they had no intention of an 11 year old shooting a 7 year old when they penned the 2nd Amendment.
This is a real fear for me. I fear the possibility of my children being accidentally shot by another child while playing at a friend's house due to an irresponsible gun owner FAR MORE than I would ever fear having my home invaded. I have had extensive conversations with my children, especially my sons, about guns and what they should do if they are ever at a friend's house and that friend wants to show them a gun. I can only hope that I have instilled in the fear of losing their life due to negligent gun ownership. I know it's possible to be a responsible gun owner. I have a couple of friends (neither who have children at this time) who are the PSA poster children for responsible gun owners. The lock up their firearms...one friend even has a gun safe that requires fingerprint access to even open it. I'm sure there are a lot of others out there too but there are certainly enough statistics showing accidental deaths of children due to loaded gun accessibility to make us pay attention and realize that responsible gun owners might just be a minority.
So what's the answer? We can't go into every house of every gun owner to police them and make sure they aren't be lazy dumbasses with their firearms now can we? But some things we can do are maybe require new gun owners to take a class to teach responsible gun ownership and safety? Perhaps offer classes in elementary schools to teach kids why it's a bad idea to play with a gun or handle a gun when they are not supervised by an adult to help them? And, I'm sure this will spring up a lot of controversy, but I believe that gun owners who don't take care of their firearms and then those firearms end up killing or harming a child need to be charged with a crime and penalized...I say jail but I'm sure others would say that is too harsh. Ultimately, it's child neglect, as far as I am concerned, if you give a child unsupervised access to a loaded firearm.
I have the shittiest vacuum in the world. The belts on it seem to break all the friggin time and it's just so annoying. Another belt broke the other night for the umpteenth time and, of course, I was out of any replacements so I had to pick up some more last night at Target. So when I finally got home from running the kids all over the place and started doing my evening cleanup, I got the stupid POS vacuum out to replace the POS belt. I hate this task, not because it's especially hard to do, but it's just the fact that it's a waste of my life. I have to unscrew the top of the vacuum which involves finding the right type of screwdriver, right size, etc. and then I have to take off the old belt which smells like burnt rubber and is dusty and dirty. Then I have to put the new one on and have to pull really hard and get the stupid roller thingy in just the right way or it snaps back and I have to do it all over again. It's just a complete and total waste of my life. The worst part of this particular belt changing instance is somehow I cut my thumb in the process. Who cuts their thumb while changing a vacuum belt? I don't know, but apparently I do.
So, while I'm cleaning and bandaging my bleeding thumb, I think to myself that I didn't always have this shitty vacuum. In fact, I used to have a very nice vacuum, probably at least an A- on the vacuum grading scale. I bought it after I got both my dogs because, while Huskies don't shed on a constant basis, they do blow their coats a couple of times a year which can get very messy and I have dark rugs which seem to accentuate the minimal shedding of my light furred dogs so it's good to have a quality vacuum for my particular situation. I had always owned fairly cheap, shitty vacuums previously so this was a big deal for me to buy this moderately expensive, nice vacuum and I was really excited about and it worked so well that I actually enjoyed vacuuming. I realize that sentence is sad on a lot of levels but just work with me here for a minute, ok?
I bought my most awesome, cadillac of vacuums while I lived in Phoenix and brought it with me when I came back to Cincinnati. Then somewhere along the way my mom broke my kick ass vacuum. First, it was the cord. Apparently she ran over the cord multiple times with the vacuum itself which put cuts in the cord and eventually shorted it out. I can bet you can take a guess at how pissed I was about this but my devotion to this vacuum was strong so I took it to the Hoover repair store and had that cord completely replaced and paid like $50 for it too. So, now I had my great vaccum that was moderately expensive PLUS $50.
Now fast forward a few months later to just before my mom moved out of my house into her own apartment. I go to use the vacuum one evening and it's not rolling right on the floor so I turn it off and flip it over and realize that my mother had broken it yet again! This time she had taken off the plastic cover thingy on the bottom to clean it but apparently had not put the screws back in tight enough so one of the screws was missing and the cover thingy was off kilter and a little plastic piece had broken off and well, long story short, it was just completed effed. But, again, my vacuum love knows no boundaries so I patched it up as best I could and used that thing until I could no more and it was basically falling apart and my mom had cut up the new cord and it shorted out altogether. THEN and only then did I concede and bury the vacuum in the back yard under the old oak tree. Not really, but you get my drift. So, naturally, I was a bit gun shy in purchasing another kick ass vacuum again becuase of the scarring experience I had just been through so I ended up buying the POS I have now.
So, there I am thinking about that awesome vacuum and bandaging my bleeding thumb and hating my shitty vacuum that breaks belts all the time and I'm thinking how pissed I am at my mom for breaking my nice vacuum repeatedly and then I feel bad for being pissed because it's just a vacuum after all. It's not like she did it on purpose. There are far more important things to be angry about than a broken vacuum and I feel so sad because if she were here I'd tell her that I'm sorry I got so mad about the vacuum but I can't because she's gone and it's not fair and then I start to cry. I'm crying over a stupid POS vacuum.
And I sit there thinking to myself , "Is this the grief? Am I in the grief?"
I don't know. What I do know is that my heart feels sick and I am going out shopping this weekend to buy myself this.
I'm back to work today which sucks, yet is ok at the same time. It felt strangely good to be up this morning; getting my shower, preparing for the work day, walking the dogs...kind of falling back into a routine. I think that this small return to normalcy will gradually help me with my grieving and healing process.
Life does go on. Somehow.
I went to see Marley and Me with Bennett yesterday. Great movie but MAN, I had a freaking breakdown at the end. Seriously, they could've warned you. I was just sitting there crying uncontrollably like a big asshole. Thankfully, I wasn't alone. I won't be the spoiler if you are intending to see it but PLEASE do yourself a favor and bring tissues. A LOT of tissues. This is not just a movie for dog lovers (although I lmao because of how much I could relate to some of their situations) but I think this was actually a great movie for Bennett to see because it is a great portrayal for kids to understand death or loss.
Well, since I am here at work I guess I should probably do something work related. I've been here since 7:30am and all I've done is clean out and organize my purse and write in my blog. It's hard to care since there are only like 10 people in the building today and in reality, I will take a longer lunch and probably leave early too. Thank God I'm on salary.
I wasn't really ready for the new year, especially considering how the month of December alone ran me over like a mack truck. Normally, I can't wait for NYE and I'm excited to begin a new year but this year was, well, just meh. I haven't been sleeping well so I am tired and dark circled and I just feel sorta of zombiesque. But I know this will pass eventually and well, whether I am ready or not, it's 2009. So I decided to focus on what I want 2009 to look like. Here are my resolutions:
1) Complete items on my life list.
2) Take better care of myself. This means eating better, getting more exercise, drinking more water, taking more "me" time.
3) Be a happier person. Less cynical.
4)Take more trips (even if it's just a short overnight or weekend trip).
5) Achieve PMP certification.
6)Curse less.
7) Go to church more.
8) Wear more dresses.
9) Write (more) in my blog.
10) Fall in love.
11) Make a difference.
I want to thank each of you for all your love and support. I will be grieving the loss of my mom forever, but because of great friends like you, I know that I am never alone.
You must pardon my blog neglect as of late, but November ran me over like a mack truck and now December has whipped it in reverse and is going back over me to make sure I'm really REALLY flattened.
A lot is going on with me personally and more specifically with a few folks involved in my inner circle and I just can't even muster the gumption to share all the tales with you. Trust me, you wouldn't be that interested anyhow. But, if you know me, you know already, so I guess this paragraph doesn't make much sense.
Shut up.
So, December. Yeah.
I wish I could say that I'm all merry and festive but truth be told, I'm not so big on the yuletide cheer. I am one of those snobby people who believe that Christmas is too commercialized and I just loathe anyone who has to run out and charge up their credit cards for the latest games systems and iPods and ultimately forcing me to wait in long lines while I try to buy paper towels at Target. Damn each and every one of you.
I don't hate the Christmas holiday outright, mostly because I love giving gifts to my kids and since Bennett still believes in Santa, it makes it even more enjoyable. He's at that cusp of almost not believing though, so I figure this very well will be the last year. Realistically though, how long can we really expect our kids to believe that a fat, white-bearded man in a red suit comes barreling down our chimney once a year and somehow no one has shot him yet. And don't even get me started on the flying deer.
I would have to say though that the part of the holiday that I enjoy the most is celebrating Advent. We didn't have a whole lot of traditions surrounding the holidays when I was a kid, religious or otherwise. I really can't do much about the commercialization of Christmas, but I figured that I could try to give my kids some traditions which would focus on the real reasons we celebrate this holiday, so every Sunday we sit down together for a feastful dinner and light the Advent candles and read scripture, celebrate and give thanks. The kids enjoy this too because I bust out the good dishes and wine glasses and it's just...well, special. This leads up to Christmas Eve where every year when we go to church for a candle light service and sing Christmas carols and then everyone from our church goes on a Donut Outreach in the city. This basically involves delivering Krispy Creme donuts to people who have to work on Christmas Eve.
Oh yeah. So, I can't believe that I almost forgot to tell you about the nice visitor who showed up at my house on Sunday!
I had just arrived home from a quick shopping trip to IKEA, and just as I was getting out of my car in the driveway, I found this guy waiting to say Hi:
I can handle a lot of things but snakes are not in that list. I made Kaylie run into the house to get Jessen. She did, but being the true photographer she is, also came back out with her camera. Guess she couldn't pass up the photo op. Poor little Bennett was petrified and wouldn't get out of the car.
Jessen came out to survey the situation and then ran back in and grabbed an old sweater and some grilling tongs. I honestly am not sure what he had in mind so I decided to take it upon myself to get this situation handled as quickly as possible. That is when I did what any unmarried, self-respecting, snake-fearing woman would do and ran to the neighbors house to ask for help.
Long story short, one neighbor came over (he was also pretty afraid of snakes) and held the snake off from going anywhere with a very long stick. Then the other neighbor across the street ended up coming over with a friend who just walked over and picked the snake up with his bare effing hands. Freakin; show off.
They carried him to the woods across the street behind their house and like that he was gone. But I am scarred for life.
Even looking at this picture gives me flashbacks and makes me pull my legs up into my chair.
Agreed, Scott. I am pleased that a lo...
late night backroom deals and sneaky...
Bah. Take some time away from the TV ...
20 books?! Holy crap. I thought abo...
I think you did better on your resolu...