I'd like to think that all the fabulousness cannot be contained in just one post... but face it. It can be. Here goes.
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I have one more warehouse shift and it happens to be working inventory until almost midnight. My mad counting skills have been claimed by the HABA and OTC (Health and Beauty Aids, Over The Counter) centres, which means that I officially have the WORST warehouse inventory area. I will be crossing my eyes over hundreds of vitamin bottles and tiny boxes. For eight hours. But, I get free candy and drinks (errrr... pop, to be more specific. No coconut rum for me.) which makes up for it a little bit. :) Did I mention that I also get to count condoms? Yay.
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School is kicking into gear for the Princess and I can't tell you how many permission forms I've signed and cheques written for extra-curricular stuff lately. The school has partnered with an Arts program and is offering ROCK 100; putting together two bands of grades 5,6 &7 students and they will be actually creating, marketing and branding a band. Also, they're learning to actually play a few songs and there will be a concert at the end of April. Enrollment was really limited and somehow the Princess snagged a spot. And while I'm all for parental pride and what not, I'm really not all that sure why they chose her as she doesn't play an instrument AT ALL. She does have a lovely little singing voice, but is too shy to actually ever sing in front of people. Anyway, I know she'll love it and hopefully it will spark a bit of a desire to take some lessons with an instrument or something. God knows I've tried to convince the girl... some things are beyond my powers.
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The Kid has two VERY loose front teeth. So loose that every day I look at him, they are pointing different directions. Which is kinda trippy in a gross MyKidFreaksMeOut sort of way. I've been trying to convince him to let me Take A Look, which is parent-speak for Rip Those Suckers Out Of There. (at least, that's been my experience growing up.) but he manages to effectively deny me the opportunity. And honestly, it doesn't take much. I'm woefully unprepared to Rip things out of mouths. The Princess has taken care of all of her own loose teeth; a fact she is quite proud of and I'm most grateful for. The Kid's two bottom teeth came out at my hand, but it was quite the accident as I was just showing him how to wiggle his teeth properly (he tends to be a light touch and just wibble them a bit which we all know will not get one Anywhere where loose teeth are concerned) and they popped out to our mutual surprise.
However, I am finished with being creeped out by the creepy, crooked teeth in the Kid's mouth and am ready to take things a bit more seriously. Any hints, tips or tricks would be greatly appreciately. So long as they don't involve doors and string.
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I am longing for some grilling weather. I'm tired of stews, ragouts and casseroles and other oven-ish stuff. Usually March is my official Break Out the BBQ month, but I'm hoping that we've put in all our time with the super cold weather and maybe temps will break earlier this year. I could handle grilling in February. And, maybe... if the weatherman actually hits the forecast right (0 degrees, baby!), the BBQ might make an appearance this weekend. Man, that would be nice.
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Fresh Meat night with the local Roller Derby club is coming up soon and I'm a little bit obsessed. Six more sleeps, y'all. I've been told to start thinking of a Derby name and number, as, if I make the team I'll have to register one. Derby names are all registered in a national database and must be unique. They must also be a bit nasty and spanky and fun. I've got a few in mind already, but if anyone wants to contribute something -- please feel free to drop me a comment or an email. I'm hitting a free skate today to work on some basic stuff. Ice skating is a bit different than quad skating, of course, but the physics is the same. I already know the Sticky Skate skills and stopping and what not, but I am rusty for sure. Time to brush up. I'll be hurting tomorrow I'm certain.
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We recently ordered some furniture to replace some well-worn (AND HOW!!) pieces upstairs in our family room. I'm so excited to finally move those stinky couches out of there, but I'm a little bit nervous about the new cream-coloured cushions surviving life in the FlutterZone. Maybe it was a poor choice, but there wasn't really anything else that Mr. F. and I could agree on. Perhaps I should hire a couch nanny, whose only job is to sit in the room and shoo away any children with food or drink. Practical? No. But it just may be the thing needed. And, as a bonus, these fragile little cushions may just up the class factor around here and put an end to all the Homer-Simpson-shirtless lounging Mr. F. is prone to do. Imagine that, a lowly cushion may just do the thing that 13 years of wifely Suggestions could not do. I am humbled beyond belief.
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So, now, the weekend. Well, inventory and the weekend. Some skating, some visiting with family and maybe some grilling and then, on to my new job. Have a good weekend y'all.
1.15.2009
As The World Turns.
I confess I am a people watcher. If I'm waiting somewhere, anywhere -- Dr's office, parking lot -- chances are I'm watching you.
I'm not picking apart your wardrobe or wondering why the heck you're such a hot mess. It's more about that look in your eye or why you're walking with your shoulders rounded down today. I guess I'm fascinated by the story that I see in people. The mystery of trying to figure it out.
Some people are easy to read; sometimes their current situation is all you see... the stressed mom with kids trailing behind and packages in hand; the squabbling couple who thinks they're being discreet. Sometimes peoples "unseen" deeds are seen; the surreptitious littering or quick nose-digging. The gracious opening of a door for someone who needs help or letting someone else step ahead in line.
Occasionally, you get to see moments of brilliance and courage; the ill man with dark circles under his eyes who is struggling to do the simplest of tasks, but perseveres for the sake of continuing normality in his life. The determined look of a child in a wheelchair, working hard to keep up with his family in the parking lot. The careful application of lipstick on a lined and age-worn face as an elderly woman reminds the world that she once was a beauty. The trembling hand of a woman with a neurological issue which bears the shaky lines of nail polish.
I guess I see myself in these stories, in these passers-by. They are a parade of my past, my present, my future, my good, my bad, my embarrassed slips and graceful saves. They are a parade of emotion and a reminder that even the mundane moments in life are Seen. The world goes on and we are Seen.
There's a beauty in that which never fails to touch me. And so I watch. And smile. And sometimes I weep. And hope that somewhere, sometime; I will be Seen, too.
I'm not picking apart your wardrobe or wondering why the heck you're such a hot mess. It's more about that look in your eye or why you're walking with your shoulders rounded down today. I guess I'm fascinated by the story that I see in people. The mystery of trying to figure it out.
Some people are easy to read; sometimes their current situation is all you see... the stressed mom with kids trailing behind and packages in hand; the squabbling couple who thinks they're being discreet. Sometimes peoples "unseen" deeds are seen; the surreptitious littering or quick nose-digging. The gracious opening of a door for someone who needs help or letting someone else step ahead in line.
Occasionally, you get to see moments of brilliance and courage; the ill man with dark circles under his eyes who is struggling to do the simplest of tasks, but perseveres for the sake of continuing normality in his life. The determined look of a child in a wheelchair, working hard to keep up with his family in the parking lot. The careful application of lipstick on a lined and age-worn face as an elderly woman reminds the world that she once was a beauty. The trembling hand of a woman with a neurological issue which bears the shaky lines of nail polish.
I guess I see myself in these stories, in these passers-by. They are a parade of my past, my present, my future, my good, my bad, my embarrassed slips and graceful saves. They are a parade of emotion and a reminder that even the mundane moments in life are Seen. The world goes on and we are Seen.
There's a beauty in that which never fails to touch me. And so I watch. And smile. And sometimes I weep. And hope that somewhere, sometime; I will be Seen, too.
1.13.2009
Kitchen Mojo
Not that kind of kitchen mojo, you freaky, freaky people...
But the kind of mojo that used to have me pencilling out weekly meal plans with all six food groups (I added Chocolate, OK?) and homemade ingredients. The kind of mojo that saw me baking bread once a week and making pancakes on the weekend.
Yes, the kind of mojo that takes time and discipline and actually being home at supper-time. Three things which have been on short supply around here, lately. My family isn't starving... there are nights that I'm home, after all; and often I'll make something ahead when I know I'm working the next day. Mr. F. is getting better at some kitchen stuff, too... surprisingly good, actually. But I feel like I'm starving.
A big part of being a Mom, being a homemaker, is taking care of and providing for your family. There's something really great about knowing that everyone at the table is satisfied and enjoyed their meal and that it was something you Made for them. And after you've spent the biggest part of your Created Family Life defining yourself in this way, it's a bit hard to adjust. To change. To reframe it. I feel pressure to be all that I was before, but also to be More.
Last night, while I was out getting groceries... for the first time ever I bought a pre-made chicken dish (Chicken breasts stuffed with broccoli and cheese) and was struck by the irony. I used to look at that stuff and think "Boy, would it be nice to be able to afford to buy stuff that's already made for me..." but I ended up actually throwing them in my cart as a concession to a work schedule that won't allow me to be home around meal time this week but does allow me the extra money to buy stuff like that. And I didn't like that feeling one bit.
I think that my new job will be an easier sell on the family life; and hopefully this means that my kitchen mojo will return with a vengeance and everything will be back on track once again. As for tonight; Mr. F just called and we're taking the kids out for appy's at two for one night. What a great guy. :)
But the kind of mojo that used to have me pencilling out weekly meal plans with all six food groups (I added Chocolate, OK?) and homemade ingredients. The kind of mojo that saw me baking bread once a week and making pancakes on the weekend.
Yes, the kind of mojo that takes time and discipline and actually being home at supper-time. Three things which have been on short supply around here, lately. My family isn't starving... there are nights that I'm home, after all; and often I'll make something ahead when I know I'm working the next day. Mr. F. is getting better at some kitchen stuff, too... surprisingly good, actually. But I feel like I'm starving.
A big part of being a Mom, being a homemaker, is taking care of and providing for your family. There's something really great about knowing that everyone at the table is satisfied and enjoyed their meal and that it was something you Made for them. And after you've spent the biggest part of your Created Family Life defining yourself in this way, it's a bit hard to adjust. To change. To reframe it. I feel pressure to be all that I was before, but also to be More.
Last night, while I was out getting groceries... for the first time ever I bought a pre-made chicken dish (Chicken breasts stuffed with broccoli and cheese) and was struck by the irony. I used to look at that stuff and think "Boy, would it be nice to be able to afford to buy stuff that's already made for me..." but I ended up actually throwing them in my cart as a concession to a work schedule that won't allow me to be home around meal time this week but does allow me the extra money to buy stuff like that. And I didn't like that feeling one bit.
I think that my new job will be an easier sell on the family life; and hopefully this means that my kitchen mojo will return with a vengeance and everything will be back on track once again. As for tonight; Mr. F just called and we're taking the kids out for appy's at two for one night. What a great guy. :)
1.12.2009
1.11.2009
Love Remains the Same
Gavin Rossdale's newest single pairs a sweet, progressive melody with strong, husky vocals and tops it all off with tender sentiment. It will be stuck in your head, guaranteed.
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I swear there's something to predictable, leading chord progressions that make a song "easy" for your brain to get stuck on. I wonder if it's scientifically provable; if the code can be cracked... would I be rich if I could figure it out??
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And, just for kicks and giggles... some old school Marky Mark complete with some awkward bromance moments and a shower bit that left me feeling a bit confused about just what was being communicated. And yet... appreciative.
1.10.2009
Mom! She's Doing It Again!
JodyJ recently did a questionnaire on her lovely little piece of blog-space and -- besides the fact that I'm a hopeless copycat -- she expressed interest in knowing one of my answers to a question that was part of the interview. And, well... it would be a bit weird to devote a singular post to that question, so I thought it best to do the whole interview.
Here goes:
1) What was the last thing you did before you came online today? Made a cup of fantastic coffee and thawed out one of my grandma's muffins for breakfast. (Banana/chocolate chip with extra nuts.)
2) Do you prefer a bikini panty or thong? Depends on the pants, I guess. Denim works with anything, but dress pants and anything white shows pantylines. (right, Therese??!)
3) Latest product you've purchased? Ravin Rabbids Wii game. And, yes... it's fun. I just spent part of the morning shooting chicken zombies with the Kid. Heaven.
4) Last book you read? The Princess is reading "The Diamond of Darkhold" to me at night.
5) One childhood memory? I remember being about 8 years old; Little Bro was 4 and the folks went out for an evening and got a neighborhood boy to babysit. Little Bro woke up late at night, crying from a nightmare and babysitter, "D", was nowhere to be found. I told Little Bro I'd find him and started searching the house. Went downstairs and found two sets of eyeglasses on the console stereo... Opened the door to the spare room/playroom and... HolyCrapBoobiesAndStuff!!! I think I scared "D" and his girlfriend half to death (both in the Moment and with fear of the wrath of the Parents Finding Out) and the worst part was that the little tramp used my favorite stuffie to, errrr, COVER UP! Ewwwwwww.
6) First Kiss? I was *cough* twelve (ALMOST THIRTEEN, Y'ALL!!!!) and sorta "going out" with a guy a bit older than me by a couple years. (Which, hello? Like I knew at all what I was doing...) My grandparents were watching me for the weekend and he came along with us out to a farm where they were to look at a motorhome that was for sale. Kittens were running about and we followed them around, ending up behind some kind of outbuilding or shed. Little Flutter, meet Lips. Don't forget to breathe. I said... Don't. Forget. To. Breathe.
7) What color of nail polish are you wearing? NONE! I'm working in a warehouse and constantly shredding them on boxes and heavy stuff. I usually only keep a clear coat on or something light colored (french mani, etc.) if at all, anyway. I don't have nice nails at all.
8) What are you wearing? Brown ballet capris, tank and black hoodie. Fashionista I am not.
9) Last phone call? My mother-in-law.
10) One New Year's Resolution? Posted bout that already.
11) Something new you want to try? What? I'm supposed to be ambitious, now? OK... I kinda would like to try roller-derby.
12) Something you haven't done for a while and want to start up again? I want to start skiing again this winter and get the kids started, too.
13) Favorite chocolate bar? Hmmmm... probably Snickers. Skor is a close second.
14) Long glamour nails or short nails? I can't grow my own nails worth crap. :( But, the few times I've had gel nails, I've still kept them at a sporty length and french manicured.
15) What color is your bedroom? Kinda monochromatic... mid-tone brown and deep grey.
16)Favorite season? I'm with JJ on this one... "Easier to say my least favorite, winter. The other three seasons are my favorite."
17) One pet peeve? People who don't put away their shopping carts. *grrrrrr* This may or may not be influenced by my current job pushing hundreds of errant carts around a ginormous parking lot. In the snow. Whilst freezing.
18) Do you make your bed every morning? I have to, or else my Inner Critic spends the whole day making me feel like a worthless piece of humanity. What's up with that?
19) What is the first post you ever wrote about? I first wrote in 1995, two posts; one an intro to the blogosphere and the other a satirical review of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Which may have amounted to not much more than "*sigh* Johnny Depp." I really can't remember.
20) Did you enjoy this questionnaire? Yes! Which is to say that I always pretty much enjoy talking about myself! :)
21) Not done yet, one more thing, post a picture that makes you feel good. Read the post and accompanying pics below.
Here goes:
1) What was the last thing you did before you came online today? Made a cup of fantastic coffee and thawed out one of my grandma's muffins for breakfast. (Banana/chocolate chip with extra nuts.)
2) Do you prefer a bikini panty or thong? Depends on the pants, I guess. Denim works with anything, but dress pants and anything white shows pantylines. (right, Therese??!)
3) Latest product you've purchased? Ravin Rabbids Wii game. And, yes... it's fun. I just spent part of the morning shooting chicken zombies with the Kid. Heaven.
4) Last book you read? The Princess is reading "The Diamond of Darkhold" to me at night.
5) One childhood memory? I remember being about 8 years old; Little Bro was 4 and the folks went out for an evening and got a neighborhood boy to babysit. Little Bro woke up late at night, crying from a nightmare and babysitter, "D", was nowhere to be found. I told Little Bro I'd find him and started searching the house. Went downstairs and found two sets of eyeglasses on the console stereo... Opened the door to the spare room/playroom and... HolyCrapBoobiesAndStuff!!! I think I scared "D" and his girlfriend half to death (both in the Moment and with fear of the wrath of the Parents Finding Out) and the worst part was that the little tramp used my favorite stuffie to, errrr, COVER UP! Ewwwwwww.
6) First Kiss? I was *cough* twelve (ALMOST THIRTEEN, Y'ALL!!!!) and sorta "going out" with a guy a bit older than me by a couple years. (Which, hello? Like I knew at all what I was doing...) My grandparents were watching me for the weekend and he came along with us out to a farm where they were to look at a motorhome that was for sale. Kittens were running about and we followed them around, ending up behind some kind of outbuilding or shed. Little Flutter, meet Lips. Don't forget to breathe. I said... Don't. Forget. To. Breathe.
7) What color of nail polish are you wearing? NONE! I'm working in a warehouse and constantly shredding them on boxes and heavy stuff. I usually only keep a clear coat on or something light colored (french mani, etc.) if at all, anyway. I don't have nice nails at all.
8) What are you wearing? Brown ballet capris, tank and black hoodie. Fashionista I am not.
9) Last phone call? My mother-in-law.
10) One New Year's Resolution? Posted bout that already.
11) Something new you want to try? What? I'm supposed to be ambitious, now? OK... I kinda would like to try roller-derby.
12) Something you haven't done for a while and want to start up again? I want to start skiing again this winter and get the kids started, too.
13) Favorite chocolate bar? Hmmmm... probably Snickers. Skor is a close second.
14) Long glamour nails or short nails? I can't grow my own nails worth crap. :( But, the few times I've had gel nails, I've still kept them at a sporty length and french manicured.
15) What color is your bedroom? Kinda monochromatic... mid-tone brown and deep grey.
16)Favorite season? I'm with JJ on this one... "Easier to say my least favorite, winter. The other three seasons are my favorite."
17) One pet peeve? People who don't put away their shopping carts. *grrrrrr* This may or may not be influenced by my current job pushing hundreds of errant carts around a ginormous parking lot. In the snow. Whilst freezing.
18) Do you make your bed every morning? I have to, or else my Inner Critic spends the whole day making me feel like a worthless piece of humanity. What's up with that?
19) What is the first post you ever wrote about? I first wrote in 1995, two posts; one an intro to the blogosphere and the other a satirical review of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Which may have amounted to not much more than "*sigh* Johnny Depp." I really can't remember.
20) Did you enjoy this questionnaire? Yes! Which is to say that I always pretty much enjoy talking about myself! :)
21) Not done yet, one more thing, post a picture that makes you feel good. Read the post and accompanying pics below.
Dreamin'
I know that some think that Style is something you are born with; an inherent set of inclinations and preferences that you carry with you through life. I'm finding that style is something you grow into.
And it's frustrating the heck out of me.
Cause the old Me (OK, really, that would be the Young Me, but bear with me, here, people...) was a slave to the trend and all into being sleek and modern just for the sake of ensuring continued job security for IKEA employees of the world. It's a style I can still appreciate from an artful view, but I'm finding that I don't feel at Home in it like I used to.
Maybe it's growing older (maturer? Ha! Don't think so.) that tunes you in to your inner esthetic, but I'm often surprised to find the environments that nurture and comfort and inspire me are actually very simple and rustic. I crave small, cozy spaces filled with texture and color and the warmth of wood and stone and clay earth. I love the intimacy of handwrought features; the textured glasses and the unique reclaimed pieces. I love simplistic, straightforward design with natural materials and lots and lots of sunlight. Organic, natural and solid.
I love This. This compact little home in Dunedin, New Zealand that I found on a real estate website. 1000 sq ft and three bedrooms and surrounded by the most beautiful nature one could imagine. And, while chances are slim that New Zealand and I will ever cross paths; I'm thinking maybe I'll email the owners to purchase the blueprints. Cause maybe one day I'll get to build a little house that belongs in my dreams.
And it's frustrating the heck out of me.
Cause the old Me (OK, really, that would be the Young Me, but bear with me, here, people...) was a slave to the trend and all into being sleek and modern just for the sake of ensuring continued job security for IKEA employees of the world. It's a style I can still appreciate from an artful view, but I'm finding that I don't feel at Home in it like I used to.
Maybe it's growing older (maturer? Ha! Don't think so.) that tunes you in to your inner esthetic, but I'm often surprised to find the environments that nurture and comfort and inspire me are actually very simple and rustic. I crave small, cozy spaces filled with texture and color and the warmth of wood and stone and clay earth. I love the intimacy of handwrought features; the textured glasses and the unique reclaimed pieces. I love simplistic, straightforward design with natural materials and lots and lots of sunlight. Organic, natural and solid.
I love This. This compact little home in Dunedin, New Zealand that I found on a real estate website. 1000 sq ft and three bedrooms and surrounded by the most beautiful nature one could imagine. And, while chances are slim that New Zealand and I will ever cross paths; I'm thinking maybe I'll email the owners to purchase the blueprints. Cause maybe one day I'll get to build a little house that belongs in my dreams.
1.07.2009
Open Letter to Rocket, My Beloved Civic.
Dear Rocket,
You are many things. Fast. Fun. Sporty. Even sexy. I relish every one of your endearing qualities; even the way your upholstery disguises the crumbs left behind by the kiddos. (Sorry about that, by the way.) I look forward to a long and enjoyable relationship with you, Rocket.
But, there are some things we must discuss. I sense that you are having a bit of a identity crisis, perhaps a bit of vehicular angst has gripped you with the onset of winter and the troublesome condition of Fluttercity's streets. And, while I have attempted to go along and ride this little bump in our relationship out, it appears that you and I need to have a little chat.
I'm going to say it and say it straight.
You are not, I repeat... NOT Kurt Browning.
You think I can't feel your nimble little tires trying to line up a triple axel? You think I don't KNOW that you're daydreaming of that camel spin? Who do you think you're fooling? Not me. Uh uh. And I'm not having any more of that, Rocket. This is not the Winter Olympics and I am not going to be your little Twizzle partner dressed in a tarty little flouncy skirt and nasty opaque tights that tie under my shoes... and I'm losing my train of thought, here.
The point is, that no matter how much you really, really, really WANT to be a little figure skating car... Rocket, it's not possible. Simply not possible and certainly not advisable. There are other vehicles on that ice, and, well I'll just say it. They're going to laugh. They're going to laugh Rocket. And call you names. And get their nose all up in your business about just what it is you're trying to do out there.
Is it close-minded and intolerant? Yes! I feel your pain. No one wants their dreams dashed against the rocky precipice of Reality. They're pricks, those other cars. Grotty, unwashed PRICKS that can't stand to let another vehicle outshine them. But you and I, Rocket, we live in their world. We drive on their ice. And I really need you to hear me now, when I tell you that we gotta play by the rules of that Prick-owned ice.
So, get your head on straight, boy. Put some lead in those loafers and keep it in the game. No more wibbely-wobbely-tipsy-turvy stuff out there on the road. We're keeping it locked down, right? Right?
So, do we have an understanding, Rocket? Good. Now, Hug it out.
You are many things. Fast. Fun. Sporty. Even sexy. I relish every one of your endearing qualities; even the way your upholstery disguises the crumbs left behind by the kiddos. (Sorry about that, by the way.) I look forward to a long and enjoyable relationship with you, Rocket.
But, there are some things we must discuss. I sense that you are having a bit of a identity crisis, perhaps a bit of vehicular angst has gripped you with the onset of winter and the troublesome condition of Fluttercity's streets. And, while I have attempted to go along and ride this little bump in our relationship out, it appears that you and I need to have a little chat.
I'm going to say it and say it straight.
You are not, I repeat... NOT Kurt Browning.
You think I can't feel your nimble little tires trying to line up a triple axel? You think I don't KNOW that you're daydreaming of that camel spin? Who do you think you're fooling? Not me. Uh uh. And I'm not having any more of that, Rocket. This is not the Winter Olympics and I am not going to be your little Twizzle partner dressed in a tarty little flouncy skirt and nasty opaque tights that tie under my shoes... and I'm losing my train of thought, here.
The point is, that no matter how much you really, really, really WANT to be a little figure skating car... Rocket, it's not possible. Simply not possible and certainly not advisable. There are other vehicles on that ice, and, well I'll just say it. They're going to laugh. They're going to laugh Rocket. And call you names. And get their nose all up in your business about just what it is you're trying to do out there.
Is it close-minded and intolerant? Yes! I feel your pain. No one wants their dreams dashed against the rocky precipice of Reality. They're pricks, those other cars. Grotty, unwashed PRICKS that can't stand to let another vehicle outshine them. But you and I, Rocket, we live in their world. We drive on their ice. And I really need you to hear me now, when I tell you that we gotta play by the rules of that Prick-owned ice.
So, get your head on straight, boy. Put some lead in those loafers and keep it in the game. No more wibbely-wobbely-tipsy-turvy stuff out there on the road. We're keeping it locked down, right? Right?
So, do we have an understanding, Rocket? Good. Now, Hug it out.
Can You Tell Me How To Get...
The brilliance of Sesame Street dazzled me long past the years of childhood. I loved the quirky muppet humor and the nods to popular culture tucked in amongst the ABCs. One of the things I loved about having kids of my own was being able to watch The Street with them and seeing some of the same classic bits that ran when I was a child. (You know you can't forget the Twelve Pinball Song.) Sure, it's changed and characters have been added, as well as some having sadly been lost to time and illness. For awhile it seemed to be a totally Elmo-driven bus which thankfully seems to have changed.
But, as I've grown older... the Street just doesn't capture my attention anymore. Like a junkie needing a bigger high, I've had to search for a different Street, a better Street. A Street that I can call home.
I've found it here. Yes, I am a Coronation St. addict. Weill, addicc is rilly sooch a harsh word, ayn it?
Let's set aside for a moment that it's technically a show in the "soap" genre which I generally cannot stand (outside of a short penchant for Another World during my lunch hour break at one particular workplace, but that doesn't count cause there was NOTHING ELSE ON.) and consider the merits of Corrie St.
1). Real People. Oh how I love real people. No fashionistas or spray tans and botoxed faces. Just a regular representation of a variety of society's segments and classes. Not every one is a looker. No one holds all the cards. Real People. Astounding concept, this. Try to think of how many shows actually offer this in their cast. The Hills? 90210? LOST? So-called Reality TV? Only found on Corrie St., luv.
2). Real Ages. Oh yes, the diversity of age is there, too. From babies and teens to Uni's and middle-aged and elderly; all the characters have vital parts in the society and plot of this show. I admit to being hooked on seeing this elderly segment of the Street worm their way into the drama.
3). Real Stories. OK, this is pushing it a little. It is a SOAP, after all. But the plots don't push reality all that far. Other than the pushing the statistics that all these events would happen in a small sampling of a community with the regularity that they do, Corrie Street is mostly about the drama of Life. There are a few malevolent characters, but only in that they are so flawed and entitled that the shrapnel of their lives wounds others.
4). Real Characters. Dimensional and varied, the writers have really tried to re-create an actual community with it's unique facets and characters. I think they do a pretty good job.
5.) It spins my head a little. With all the different dialects and accents (a mish-mash which is really the show's greatest incontinuity; considering that many of the characters supposedly have spent their whole lives in this one district.) my brain is kept in gear trying to sort out what's being said. While a bit nutty at first, you do get used to it.
What's your favorite show?
But, as I've grown older... the Street just doesn't capture my attention anymore. Like a junkie needing a bigger high, I've had to search for a different Street, a better Street. A Street that I can call home.
I've found it here. Yes, I am a Coronation St. addict. Weill, addicc is rilly sooch a harsh word, ayn it?
Let's set aside for a moment that it's technically a show in the "soap" genre which I generally cannot stand (outside of a short penchant for Another World during my lunch hour break at one particular workplace, but that doesn't count cause there was NOTHING ELSE ON.) and consider the merits of Corrie St.
1). Real People. Oh how I love real people. No fashionistas or spray tans and botoxed faces. Just a regular representation of a variety of society's segments and classes. Not every one is a looker. No one holds all the cards. Real People. Astounding concept, this. Try to think of how many shows actually offer this in their cast. The Hills? 90210? LOST? So-called Reality TV? Only found on Corrie St., luv.
2). Real Ages. Oh yes, the diversity of age is there, too. From babies and teens to Uni's and middle-aged and elderly; all the characters have vital parts in the society and plot of this show. I admit to being hooked on seeing this elderly segment of the Street worm their way into the drama.
3). Real Stories. OK, this is pushing it a little. It is a SOAP, after all. But the plots don't push reality all that far. Other than the pushing the statistics that all these events would happen in a small sampling of a community with the regularity that they do, Corrie Street is mostly about the drama of Life. There are a few malevolent characters, but only in that they are so flawed and entitled that the shrapnel of their lives wounds others.
4). Real Characters. Dimensional and varied, the writers have really tried to re-create an actual community with it's unique facets and characters. I think they do a pretty good job.
5.) It spins my head a little. With all the different dialects and accents (a mish-mash which is really the show's greatest incontinuity; considering that many of the characters supposedly have spent their whole lives in this one district.) my brain is kept in gear trying to sort out what's being said. While a bit nutty at first, you do get used to it.
What's your favorite show?
1.05.2009
Oh Nine, Baby.
Here we are, five days in to a brand-spanking New Year which is usually something I really, really LOVE. I've always fancied that blank calendar smiling at me with all it's promise of potential and change. New beginnings and do-overs and the like.
I will floss daily. I won't procrastinate. I will Change The World... tomorrow. Crap. There goes #2.
I usually do make resolutions, if only cause I tend to be introspective like that. And I usually do so on the first day of the new year, if only cause that's when one is supposed to do such things. But, after 10 years of putting "no procrastinating" on the list in it's various forms and shadings (I will not self-sabotage. I will prioritize. I will not procrastinate. I will not ever, ever procrastinate. I will not ever, ever, ever procrastinate.) it's clear that this is one part of my make-up that I may never change.
So, it's no surprise to me (nor to many of you) that I am behind the curve on the Posting of the Resolutions.
Better late than never, right?
Warning -- these are not weighty, pretentious resolutions. I am not going to resolve to change the world, or love myself more or serve humankind in a new and profound way. Not that I don't think that these are all good resolutions. But, c'mon, people... baby steps. I am just one little Flutter, after all.
Flutterby's New Year Resolutions
1) Bedtime. I need one. Desperately. I don't know if it's cause I'm getting older, or what, but the Flutter that used to be able to pass out in five seconds flat on a hard basement floor and sleep soundly through an air ride siren, waking refreshed and ready for a full day on only five hours sleep is a Flutter I don't know anymore. And, I've also noticed a bad habit of putting off going to bed (and, really, WHAT THE HECK IS THAT ABOUT?) later and later each night. I'm currently at a 2 a.m. set point and that is NOT compatible with, well, anything except fraternizing with street thugs and night creatures. Morning is not my friend and that really, really sucks. Especially cause my new job will have me up at 5:30 a.m. I have two weeks to whip this into shape before I will end up needing a caffeine drip installed directly into a major artery in order to function at work. I'm thinking 10 p.m. is a good, sensible goal to set, but part of me wants to whither and die thinking of going to bed that early. I mean, all those kid-free hours LOST. Time to hang out and be quiet or watch TV or read or surf or do housework and laundry. Me-time. I'm losing HOURS of it. (I do totally realize the selfish, whining tone of this all... I ain't no Mother Teresa) Regardless, going to bed on time is now a necessity. Stupid, ridiculous Responsibility. Sucks.
2) Get off this Hormone Train. I am tired of these ridiculous blemishes and hair issues (It's dry. It's breaking. It's awful.). My hormones are running amuck and it's high time I found out why and what to do about it all. I have a few more tricks up my "natural" sleeve. I am also going in for a crapload of blood tests this week. The results will take up to a month (yay, healthcare system.) so I've got some time to try and work this out myself, yet. My doctor wants me on b/c but... yuck. I hate that idea with the white-hot hate of a thousand suns. Fingers crossed that I won't have to. Whatever the case, I vow that by the end of this year -- hopefully sooner, please, God -- that this will all be resolved and All Better And Back To Normal.
3) Fitness. I know, I know. Very cliche. But I do have some goals in mind that I want and need to accomplish for myself. I think I'm going to start a different blog to track this one down and for accountability. I've always felt kinda weird posting gym stuff here and it's probably best to re-home that topic rather than boring the crap out of people with it.
4) Spiritual Discipline. Actually, most of my resolutions are about discipline, aren't they? Hmmmmm... I have to admit that I find it difficult to talk about spiritual things. To talk about God, really. I don't know why that is, cause I am a spiritual person (we all are, in the larger sense, I guess. I meant that in the individual sense). I've been challenged through some important events and precious people this past year and I would be remiss to not take up this challenge, to allow this vital area of my life to be, well, actually Vital.
5) Being a Girl. I'm going to take time to nurture the feminine side of me. Home-spa nights with my Princess or coffee with a friend and the occasional girls-night-out watching a sappy or profound movie. Nice nails and smooth legs and the occasional splurge on make-up or cute underthings. I will enjoy long baths in the nice tub that I wanted put in our home especially to enjoy long baths in but have not made proper use of until now. I will buy tropical scented bubbles for said bath and try not to light my hair on fire with the candles perched on it's edge. I will have sassy hair and white teeth despite my new love for all things coffee. These things all sound like fun, but I know that they are truly Work. I spent years destroying the Girl in me and those habits die hard. And time is always hard to find and easy to waste.
And that about wraps it up. Sure, there's a lot more that I hope to accomplish this year. This is just all that I dare write down.
I will floss daily. I won't procrastinate. I will Change The World... tomorrow. Crap. There goes #2.
I usually do make resolutions, if only cause I tend to be introspective like that. And I usually do so on the first day of the new year, if only cause that's when one is supposed to do such things. But, after 10 years of putting "no procrastinating" on the list in it's various forms and shadings (I will not self-sabotage. I will prioritize. I will not procrastinate. I will not ever, ever procrastinate. I will not ever, ever, ever procrastinate.) it's clear that this is one part of my make-up that I may never change.
So, it's no surprise to me (nor to many of you) that I am behind the curve on the Posting of the Resolutions.
Better late than never, right?
Warning -- these are not weighty, pretentious resolutions. I am not going to resolve to change the world, or love myself more or serve humankind in a new and profound way. Not that I don't think that these are all good resolutions. But, c'mon, people... baby steps. I am just one little Flutter, after all.
Flutterby's New Year Resolutions
1) Bedtime. I need one. Desperately. I don't know if it's cause I'm getting older, or what, but the Flutter that used to be able to pass out in five seconds flat on a hard basement floor and sleep soundly through an air ride siren, waking refreshed and ready for a full day on only five hours sleep is a Flutter I don't know anymore. And, I've also noticed a bad habit of putting off going to bed (and, really, WHAT THE HECK IS THAT ABOUT?) later and later each night. I'm currently at a 2 a.m. set point and that is NOT compatible with, well, anything except fraternizing with street thugs and night creatures. Morning is not my friend and that really, really sucks. Especially cause my new job will have me up at 5:30 a.m. I have two weeks to whip this into shape before I will end up needing a caffeine drip installed directly into a major artery in order to function at work. I'm thinking 10 p.m. is a good, sensible goal to set, but part of me wants to whither and die thinking of going to bed that early. I mean, all those kid-free hours LOST. Time to hang out and be quiet or watch TV or read or surf or do housework and laundry. Me-time. I'm losing HOURS of it. (I do totally realize the selfish, whining tone of this all... I ain't no Mother Teresa) Regardless, going to bed on time is now a necessity. Stupid, ridiculous Responsibility. Sucks.
2) Get off this Hormone Train. I am tired of these ridiculous blemishes and hair issues (It's dry. It's breaking. It's awful.). My hormones are running amuck and it's high time I found out why and what to do about it all. I have a few more tricks up my "natural" sleeve. I am also going in for a crapload of blood tests this week. The results will take up to a month (yay, healthcare system.) so I've got some time to try and work this out myself, yet. My doctor wants me on b/c but... yuck. I hate that idea with the white-hot hate of a thousand suns. Fingers crossed that I won't have to. Whatever the case, I vow that by the end of this year -- hopefully sooner, please, God -- that this will all be resolved and All Better And Back To Normal.
3) Fitness. I know, I know. Very cliche. But I do have some goals in mind that I want and need to accomplish for myself. I think I'm going to start a different blog to track this one down and for accountability. I've always felt kinda weird posting gym stuff here and it's probably best to re-home that topic rather than boring the crap out of people with it.
4) Spiritual Discipline. Actually, most of my resolutions are about discipline, aren't they? Hmmmmm... I have to admit that I find it difficult to talk about spiritual things. To talk about God, really. I don't know why that is, cause I am a spiritual person (we all are, in the larger sense, I guess. I meant that in the individual sense). I've been challenged through some important events and precious people this past year and I would be remiss to not take up this challenge, to allow this vital area of my life to be, well, actually Vital.
5) Being a Girl. I'm going to take time to nurture the feminine side of me. Home-spa nights with my Princess or coffee with a friend and the occasional girls-night-out watching a sappy or profound movie. Nice nails and smooth legs and the occasional splurge on make-up or cute underthings. I will enjoy long baths in the nice tub that I wanted put in our home especially to enjoy long baths in but have not made proper use of until now. I will buy tropical scented bubbles for said bath and try not to light my hair on fire with the candles perched on it's edge. I will have sassy hair and white teeth despite my new love for all things coffee. These things all sound like fun, but I know that they are truly Work. I spent years destroying the Girl in me and those habits die hard. And time is always hard to find and easy to waste.
And that about wraps it up. Sure, there's a lot more that I hope to accomplish this year. This is just all that I dare write down.
1.04.2009
Oh. Wow.
Awesome coffee. I'm not really a coffee snob sitting here in a black turtleneck, swirling the brew in a pre-heated ceramic cup while my nose delicately sniffs the bouquet... but I do know something good when it slams me over the head with it's nutty and sweet overtones. (and I seriously wouldn't have known how to describe it had I not read it on the package, but now that I have? Totally describes it perfectly.)
I found this little package of Ethical Bean Nicaraguan coffee at London Drugs and I'm sure you could, too. It's worth the extra few seconds grinding the beans, I promise. And, if you want to wear a black turtleneck, I won't tell anyone.
1.01.2009
Wii are chillin, illin and blood spillin up in here...
"Who's your Daddy??"
That was Mr. F. Having received his directive from Sector Five and embarked on a perilous and impossible mission, he initiated contact only one hour in.
"Do you have the Eagle, Agent?"
"Uhhhh, yes... if that makes me your Daddy, sugar."
"Return the Eagle to the Nest with all peripherals and await further instruction."
"Sure, but you're kinda creeping me out, here... can you talk normal?"
"Agent F. Can you follow the directive or do I have to have you brought into Interrogation?" "Like that?"
"Yeah. Pretty much creeping me out."
***************************************
Don't you just hate it when they don't play along? Which is why we needed a Nintendo Wii. Also, because everyone else in the whole world seems to have one. Also, cause I love sending Mr. F. into the world, all caveman-like with his wooden club, to hunt down some rare and impossible item on short notice.
But mostly just cause it looks like so much fun for me. Errr... FOR THE WHOLE FAMILY. Just to be clear.
This is so not for me.
Yes, it is small and sleek and unbearably cute which normally is a triple threat where I am concerned. And I'd be a liar if I said I didn't love the cute handheld controllers called (*squeeee* Sooo cute...) "wiimotes". Seriously, just try to say that without grinning like a toddler with a cookie, I dare you. Can't be done.
So, while I am entirely tempted to lose my little inner kid's MIND about this, I will hold onto all manner of dignity and remember that this is all for the children. The actual children, that is.
In fact, I will attempt to look pained and uncomfortable while boxing and bowling and hitting some freaky HOME RUNS (oh yes... I am a Home Run kinda girl. Learn it. Know it. Don't doubt it.) playing Wii Baseball.
But, the fun doesn't end there, (although, really? Not much more fun than slamming your son with a Overhead Right Hook in the third round for a knockout. I wanted to kiss his little knocked out self, it was priceless. Yeah, mental note to lose on purpose next time.) noooooo. The Fun keeps on rolling.
First off, you get to create Mii's. Which is like handing Jim Henson 200 pounds of felt and google eyes and telling him to go bonkers. A Mii is a character that you get to personalize to look like youself. Or, after you've created that sexy beast, you also can make, say... your extended family (don't worry, you all look HOT!) and various people you know (hmmmm... perhaps even bloggers you know). Movie stars, TV characters, relatives, friends, coworkers... and the best part is when they start showing up on your baseball team and you find yourself cheering for Mark Wahlberg at bat. What's not to love about that, I ask?
After the pure fun that is the Mii, there's also the 10 WiiPlay games to enjoy. Arcade shooting, Pong, Table Tennis, Billiards and the like. All fun. All good. But nothing tops the pure exhilaration of racing your very own Knitted Cow through the countryside while chasing down scarecrows.
I swear I did not actually PUSH the Princess away from me whilst racing. She just needs to learn to wait her turn.
But, there was one more stop on the WayTooMuchFunForMe (THE KIDS!!!) Train.
DDR.
Or as the French say, "DDR". Whatever. Dance Dance Revolution Hottest Party 2 was all jumping up in this joint. And, while I had visions of looking a bit like THIS,
It soon became obvious that I looked more like, well, let's just say that I fell short of all anticipated DDR Greatness and perhaps even the knitted cows where laughing. (And, really, when a freaking KNITTED COW laughs at you...?) But, I like to think that simply means that I have room to grow, right? Let's be positive, here, people.
The Wii Kingdom is large and there's much to conquer. Next on my campaign?
I do it all for the children.
That was Mr. F. Having received his directive from Sector Five and embarked on a perilous and impossible mission, he initiated contact only one hour in.
"Do you have the Eagle, Agent?"
"Uhhhh, yes... if that makes me your Daddy, sugar."
"Return the Eagle to the Nest with all peripherals and await further instruction."
"Sure, but you're kinda creeping me out, here... can you talk normal?"
"Agent F. Can you follow the directive or do I have to have you brought into Interrogation?" "Like that?"
"Yeah. Pretty much creeping me out."
***************************************
Don't you just hate it when they don't play along? Which is why we needed a Nintendo Wii. Also, because everyone else in the whole world seems to have one. Also, cause I love sending Mr. F. into the world, all caveman-like with his wooden club, to hunt down some rare and impossible item on short notice.
But mostly just cause it looks like so much fun for me. Errr... FOR THE WHOLE FAMILY. Just to be clear.
This is so not for me.
Yes, it is small and sleek and unbearably cute which normally is a triple threat where I am concerned. And I'd be a liar if I said I didn't love the cute handheld controllers called (*squeeee* Sooo cute...) "wiimotes". Seriously, just try to say that without grinning like a toddler with a cookie, I dare you. Can't be done.
So, while I am entirely tempted to lose my little inner kid's MIND about this, I will hold onto all manner of dignity and remember that this is all for the children. The actual children, that is.
In fact, I will attempt to look pained and uncomfortable while boxing and bowling and hitting some freaky HOME RUNS (oh yes... I am a Home Run kinda girl. Learn it. Know it. Don't doubt it.) playing Wii Baseball.
But, the fun doesn't end there, (although, really? Not much more fun than slamming your son with a Overhead Right Hook in the third round for a knockout. I wanted to kiss his little knocked out self, it was priceless. Yeah, mental note to lose on purpose next time.) noooooo. The Fun keeps on rolling.
First off, you get to create Mii's. Which is like handing Jim Henson 200 pounds of felt and google eyes and telling him to go bonkers. A Mii is a character that you get to personalize to look like youself. Or, after you've created that sexy beast, you also can make, say... your extended family (don't worry, you all look HOT!) and various people you know (hmmmm... perhaps even bloggers you know). Movie stars, TV characters, relatives, friends, coworkers... and the best part is when they start showing up on your baseball team and you find yourself cheering for Mark Wahlberg at bat. What's not to love about that, I ask?
After the pure fun that is the Mii, there's also the 10 WiiPlay games to enjoy. Arcade shooting, Pong, Table Tennis, Billiards and the like. All fun. All good. But nothing tops the pure exhilaration of racing your very own Knitted Cow through the countryside while chasing down scarecrows.
I swear I did not actually PUSH the Princess away from me whilst racing. She just needs to learn to wait her turn.
But, there was one more stop on the WayTooMuchFunForMe (THE KIDS!!!) Train.
DDR.
Or as the French say, "DDR". Whatever. Dance Dance Revolution Hottest Party 2 was all jumping up in this joint. And, while I had visions of looking a bit like THIS,
It soon became obvious that I looked more like, well, let's just say that I fell short of all anticipated DDR Greatness and perhaps even the knitted cows where laughing. (And, really, when a freaking KNITTED COW laughs at you...?) But, I like to think that simply means that I have room to grow, right? Let's be positive, here, people.
The Wii Kingdom is large and there's much to conquer. Next on my campaign?
I do it all for the children.
12.31.2008
Too Long, Too Much... But I'm Doing It Anyway.
1. Describe your ex in two words: intuitive, kind
2. Do you have a favorite type of pen? Currently a Z-Grip Zebra Pen, but I have a fondness for those stainless steel business pens with the zaggy pen clips.
3. Look at your planner for May 14th, what are you doing? Nothing listed, but I'll be planning the Kid's birthday party, likely.
4. What does the 4th text in your inbox say? It's a confirmation of a survey I completed for a website beta test. (which sounds WAY more interesting and important than it really is.)
5. What was the last thing you highlighted? Some interesting stuff in a parenting book to share with Mr. F. later on.
6. What color are your bedroom curtains? No curtains, actually.
7. What color are the seats in your car? Grey. And maybe a little bit "chocolate and crumb colored" in the back from our last road trip snack issues.
8. Have you ever had a black and white cat? Yes, she was mostly black with a little white patch on her chest and tummy. Named oh-so-creatively "Blackie".
9. What is the last thing you put a stamp on? Some sort of official form or what not. Like I keep track of this stuff?? I barely remember what I fed my kids for breakfast.
10. Do you know anyone who lives in Wyoming? No.
11. Why did you withdraw cash from the ATM the last time? Probably to pay for a hot dog at Costco. :)
12. Who was the last baby you held? Abigail
13. Do you know of any twins with rhyming names? Nope.
14. Do you like Cinnamon toothpaste. Yes!
15. What kind of car were you driving 2 years ago? GMC Trailblazer named "Snowflake".
16. Pick one: Miami Hurricanes or Florida Gators. Basketball, right? Uhhh... Hurricanes.
17. Last time you went to Six Flags? Never been.
18. Do you have any wallpaper in your house? No.
19. Closest thing to you that is yellow? Orangey-yellow lid on a rubbermaid storage bin under the desk that's holding all my printer paper.
20. Last person to give you a business card? Executive Director of the SK Ronald McDonald House.
21. Who is the last person who wrote a check to you? My tenants.
22. Closest framed picture to you? Sadly, there are no framed pictures in this room. Wow, that sucks. Must do something about that.
23. Last time you had someone cook for you? Tonight, compliments of Mr. F.!
24. Have you ever applied for welfare? No.
25. How many emails do you have? 67.
26. Last time you received flowers? A dozen peach roses on Friday night when I got home. :)
27. Do you think the sanctity of marriage is meant for only a man and woman? Yes.
28. Do you play air guitar? I don't just Play, I SHRED.
29. Has anyone ever proposed to you? Proposed what?
30. Do you take anything in your coffee? Sugar. Sometimes milk or cream.
31. Do you have any willow tree figurines? Never heard of them. I'm not really a collecting-type person.
32. What was your high school’s mascot? Really can't recall.
33. Last thing you drank? Water with ice.
34. Last time you used hand sanitizer? A few days ago at work.
35. Would you like to learn to play the drums? I sort of can, but would like to Really be able to play.
36. What color are the blinds in your living room? White shipscloth.
37. What is in your inbox at work? Don't have one there.
38. Last thing you read in the newspaper? Strangely, sports scores.
39. What was the last pageant you attended? Never have.
40. What is the last place you bought pizza from? Boston Pizza
41. Have you ever worn a crown? I was going to say "Not on your life" but then I remembered Girl Guide Camp last winter where I was the Queen of Clean. I think there was a regrettable use of foil and cardboard involved.
42. What is the last thing you stapled? Some craft for the kiddos.
43. Did you ever drink clear Pepsi? I think so. And I'm still alive to tell of it.
44. Are you ticklish? And how! I've gained a bit of control over the last years, but I can still be rendered helpless pretty easily.
45. Last time you saw fireworks? July 1st at the lake.
46. Last time you had a Krispy Kreme doughnut? Canada does not have Krispy Kreme. We have Tim Horton's and it was a Boston Creme (really the only kind I like) over two months ago at least.
47. Who is the last person that left you a message & you actually returned their call? My sis-in-law.
48. Last time you parked under a carport? I don't think I ever have had the, uhh, pleasure.
49. Do you have a black dog? No.
50. Do you have pickles in your fridge? Do banana pepper rings count? All out of dills at the moment.
51. Are you an aunt or uncle? Aunt!
52. Who has the prettiest eyes that you know? A young Native man who works at a gas station we frequent. His eyes are light amber honey-colored with a dark ring around the outside. Wow.
53. Last time you saw a semi truck? Pretty much every day around here.
54. Do you remember Ugly Kid Joe? Sort of.
55. Do you have a little black dress? Well, I have a little black skirt, if that counts. I'm not really a Dress Kind of Girl.
2. Do you have a favorite type of pen? Currently a Z-Grip Zebra Pen, but I have a fondness for those stainless steel business pens with the zaggy pen clips.
3. Look at your planner for May 14th, what are you doing? Nothing listed, but I'll be planning the Kid's birthday party, likely.
4. What does the 4th text in your inbox say? It's a confirmation of a survey I completed for a website beta test. (which sounds WAY more interesting and important than it really is.)
5. What was the last thing you highlighted? Some interesting stuff in a parenting book to share with Mr. F. later on.
6. What color are your bedroom curtains? No curtains, actually.
7. What color are the seats in your car? Grey. And maybe a little bit "chocolate and crumb colored" in the back from our last road trip snack issues.
8. Have you ever had a black and white cat? Yes, she was mostly black with a little white patch on her chest and tummy. Named oh-so-creatively "Blackie".
9. What is the last thing you put a stamp on? Some sort of official form or what not. Like I keep track of this stuff?? I barely remember what I fed my kids for breakfast.
10. Do you know anyone who lives in Wyoming? No.
11. Why did you withdraw cash from the ATM the last time? Probably to pay for a hot dog at Costco. :)
12. Who was the last baby you held? Abigail
13. Do you know of any twins with rhyming names? Nope.
14. Do you like Cinnamon toothpaste. Yes!
15. What kind of car were you driving 2 years ago? GMC Trailblazer named "Snowflake".
16. Pick one: Miami Hurricanes or Florida Gators. Basketball, right? Uhhh... Hurricanes.
17. Last time you went to Six Flags? Never been.
18. Do you have any wallpaper in your house? No.
19. Closest thing to you that is yellow? Orangey-yellow lid on a rubbermaid storage bin under the desk that's holding all my printer paper.
20. Last person to give you a business card? Executive Director of the SK Ronald McDonald House.
21. Who is the last person who wrote a check to you? My tenants.
22. Closest framed picture to you? Sadly, there are no framed pictures in this room. Wow, that sucks. Must do something about that.
23. Last time you had someone cook for you? Tonight, compliments of Mr. F.!
24. Have you ever applied for welfare? No.
25. How many emails do you have? 67.
26. Last time you received flowers? A dozen peach roses on Friday night when I got home. :)
27. Do you think the sanctity of marriage is meant for only a man and woman? Yes.
28. Do you play air guitar? I don't just Play, I SHRED.
29. Has anyone ever proposed to you? Proposed what?
30. Do you take anything in your coffee? Sugar. Sometimes milk or cream.
31. Do you have any willow tree figurines? Never heard of them. I'm not really a collecting-type person.
32. What was your high school’s mascot? Really can't recall.
33. Last thing you drank? Water with ice.
34. Last time you used hand sanitizer? A few days ago at work.
35. Would you like to learn to play the drums? I sort of can, but would like to Really be able to play.
36. What color are the blinds in your living room? White shipscloth.
37. What is in your inbox at work? Don't have one there.
38. Last thing you read in the newspaper? Strangely, sports scores.
39. What was the last pageant you attended? Never have.
40. What is the last place you bought pizza from? Boston Pizza
41. Have you ever worn a crown? I was going to say "Not on your life" but then I remembered Girl Guide Camp last winter where I was the Queen of Clean. I think there was a regrettable use of foil and cardboard involved.
42. What is the last thing you stapled? Some craft for the kiddos.
43. Did you ever drink clear Pepsi? I think so. And I'm still alive to tell of it.
44. Are you ticklish? And how! I've gained a bit of control over the last years, but I can still be rendered helpless pretty easily.
45. Last time you saw fireworks? July 1st at the lake.
46. Last time you had a Krispy Kreme doughnut? Canada does not have Krispy Kreme. We have Tim Horton's and it was a Boston Creme (really the only kind I like) over two months ago at least.
47. Who is the last person that left you a message & you actually returned their call? My sis-in-law.
48. Last time you parked under a carport? I don't think I ever have had the, uhh, pleasure.
49. Do you have a black dog? No.
50. Do you have pickles in your fridge? Do banana pepper rings count? All out of dills at the moment.
51. Are you an aunt or uncle? Aunt!
52. Who has the prettiest eyes that you know? A young Native man who works at a gas station we frequent. His eyes are light amber honey-colored with a dark ring around the outside. Wow.
53. Last time you saw a semi truck? Pretty much every day around here.
54. Do you remember Ugly Kid Joe? Sort of.
55. Do you have a little black dress? Well, I have a little black skirt, if that counts. I'm not really a Dress Kind of Girl.
Photo Tag!
I've been tagged by the lovely and oh-so-cute Cocotte at Suburban Musings. The idea is to post a specific, yet random photo -- specifically (yet, also, randomly...) the 4th photo from the 4th folder.
I think I can do that.
This prime little piece of photo real estate was taken one summer morning at my family's cabin. I was walking down the little path to the beach and could see my Mom and Dad on the dock enjoying a morning coffee. (they are the two specks over the crest of patchy lawn, for anyone who's looking...) Unfortunately, all the lovely morning ambiance was lost as I totally suck at taking any kind of decent photo. Somehow the camera never "sees" what my eyes do.
I feel that I let our little lake down, being that the only pic I've ever posted on my blog of it is this piece of turd. I'll have to remedy that sometime soon.
Thanks for the tag, Cocotte! I hereby tag Sombra, Desmond and Xavier.
I think I can do that.
This prime little piece of photo real estate was taken one summer morning at my family's cabin. I was walking down the little path to the beach and could see my Mom and Dad on the dock enjoying a morning coffee. (they are the two specks over the crest of patchy lawn, for anyone who's looking...) Unfortunately, all the lovely morning ambiance was lost as I totally suck at taking any kind of decent photo. Somehow the camera never "sees" what my eyes do.
I feel that I let our little lake down, being that the only pic I've ever posted on my blog of it is this piece of turd. I'll have to remedy that sometime soon.
Thanks for the tag, Cocotte! I hereby tag Sombra, Desmond and Xavier.
12.29.2008
I Got Nothin.
I'm not entirely certain, but I may be able to verify the existence of the BloggusVampiriticus virus, whereby one's brain becomes sucked dry of any original or clever thought.
I really want to post something today cause, well, I actually have time to. It's my day off and I'm enjoying it like a day off should be enjoyed. In my jammies, with a coffee and absolutely no regard for the actual TO DO list that I made for myself last night.
It's scandalous, really.
But still... nothing.
Maybe I'll come by here again, later.
I really want to post something today cause, well, I actually have time to. It's my day off and I'm enjoying it like a day off should be enjoyed. In my jammies, with a coffee and absolutely no regard for the actual TO DO list that I made for myself last night.
It's scandalous, really.
But still... nothing.
Maybe I'll come by here again, later.
12.23.2008
Entourage
I think I may have seen someone from the Otherworld. Or whatever you call it.
Yesterday, while dutifully doing my warehouse duties, my eyes rested upon a man whose appearance arrested my attention.
If Hugh Jackman ever stepped out of the pages of a Dicken's novel, this was the man. Shiny black shoes, long black dress coat with a grey woolen scarf and a... for real, now... a black top hat. I wouldn't have blinked if he had carried a walking stick. He had two, equally well dressed companions with him who called him The Butler and they, along with a number of members of our Merchandising crew were bring up flatbed after flatbed stacked tall with boxes of chips, crackers, chocolates, candies and the like. The counter next to mine was opened just for this purchase and as The Butler and His Entourage left their flatbeds there while they finished picking up the remainder of items they needed, the gossip grew.
Who is this man? Is he truly some rich family's butler? An eccentric, wealthy man living a persona? Or someone who simply looks delicious in turn of the century clothing and likes to make people talk about himself? Regardless, the amount of merchandise he was bringing to the front was astounding. A member of Merchandising came by and I overheard that this was a charitable donation to some children's charity, just as the Butler came strutting back to the front end.
And, how, you may wonder, does a Butler (The Butler?) in the middle of Saskatchewan speak? With a proper British accent of course; leaning a bit towards the Cockney, rather than a crisp London. Oh, and he opens out in song (the last line of The 12 Days of Christmas, for those who would like to know) without the slightest discomfort.
Which all leads me to believe that he was a very rich, very interesting Apparition. A spector of Christmas Past.
That, or a very strange and extremely mysterious man. Who wears a top hat. And sings. And gives large sums of money to charity.
Nope, I'm still leaning towards the Spector-thing.
Yesterday, while dutifully doing my warehouse duties, my eyes rested upon a man whose appearance arrested my attention.
If Hugh Jackman ever stepped out of the pages of a Dicken's novel, this was the man. Shiny black shoes, long black dress coat with a grey woolen scarf and a... for real, now... a black top hat. I wouldn't have blinked if he had carried a walking stick. He had two, equally well dressed companions with him who called him The Butler and they, along with a number of members of our Merchandising crew were bring up flatbed after flatbed stacked tall with boxes of chips, crackers, chocolates, candies and the like. The counter next to mine was opened just for this purchase and as The Butler and His Entourage left their flatbeds there while they finished picking up the remainder of items they needed, the gossip grew.
Who is this man? Is he truly some rich family's butler? An eccentric, wealthy man living a persona? Or someone who simply looks delicious in turn of the century clothing and likes to make people talk about himself? Regardless, the amount of merchandise he was bringing to the front was astounding. A member of Merchandising came by and I overheard that this was a charitable donation to some children's charity, just as the Butler came strutting back to the front end.
And, how, you may wonder, does a Butler (The Butler?) in the middle of Saskatchewan speak? With a proper British accent of course; leaning a bit towards the Cockney, rather than a crisp London. Oh, and he opens out in song (the last line of The 12 Days of Christmas, for those who would like to know) without the slightest discomfort.
Which all leads me to believe that he was a very rich, very interesting Apparition. A spector of Christmas Past.
That, or a very strange and extremely mysterious man. Who wears a top hat. And sings. And gives large sums of money to charity.
Nope, I'm still leaning towards the Spector-thing.
12.20.2008
Impossible Things I Would Kill For at the Moment.
1) Being Someone Else. Cause my sorry piece-of-crap body is letting me down big time. I know that I just have to get used to the demands of my new job, but... yikes. Between pushing rows of carts through the snow, running lengths of the warehouse, loving the crap out of the concrete beneath my Adidas and constantly lifting and transfering 20 - 60 lbs from belt to cart, I am one hurtin' little unit.
2.) Summer. Cause -30 Celcius is not doing a thing for me, honey. 'Cept chap my skin and frost my car and make me swear more than usual.
OK... so those are the only two things that I'd be well chuffed to fix up.
Oh, and...
3.) Something interesting and fun to blog about. Cause, well... that's self-evident isn't it?
2.) Summer. Cause -30 Celcius is not doing a thing for me, honey. 'Cept chap my skin and frost my car and make me swear more than usual.
OK... so those are the only two things that I'd be well chuffed to fix up.
Oh, and...
3.) Something interesting and fun to blog about. Cause, well... that's self-evident isn't it?
12.17.2008
Play by Play for the Day.
10:45 a.m. I check in at Member Services as per instructions to find out where to go for my orientation. Downstairs it is.
10:47 a.m. I take a seat in the common area, hoping to see one of the five management people I've met thus far.
10:49 a.m. I can't help but wonder if I'm in the right place.
10:53 a.m. No sign of management, no sign of a sign, even. Gah!
10:55 a.m. I really must not be in the right place. See people down the hall. Ask people if they would direct me to the orientation meeting. Down the hall and past the closed door, you say? Why thank you, kind people.
10:56 a.m. Mutter under my breath about incompetent directions and an almost tardy arrival to the orientation.
10:57 a.m. Walk in the door with a smile on my face that doesn't show how much I don't like wearing this collared shirt and my previous irritation with not knowing where to be for something that is rather important.
11:00 a.m. Commence orientation with soon-to-be coworkers; a very nice older woman and a cute (in a clean-cut adorable way) pre-med student.
11:15 a.m. Learn how to properly lift stuff by watching videos of numerous people lifting stuff in exaggerated motion.
11:28 a.m. Learn how to clean up spills of a nefarious nature: chemicals, acids, vomit and all other manner of yuck.
11:42 a.m. It's Freezing in here! I wonder if it would look weird if I put on my coat? I don't want to look like I want to leave or something. Brrrrrr.
11:55 a.m. Really, really cold.
12:08 p.m. Help me. My heartrate is slowing into hibernation mode. Suck it. I'm putting on my coat.
12:11 p.m. Much better.
12:30 p.m. Learn that schedules are posted in military time. Hoo-ah! Secretly hope I don't screw it up. Man, that's a gimormous schedule.
12:34 p.m. Ha ha! Pre-med student is funny!
1:00 p.m. My tummy is growling. I should've had breakfast and normally would have except that I was told that Costco was treating us to lunch and all I could think was "mmmmmmmmmm, Poutine." and do you know how many calories and fat is in Costco Poutine?? At least 5,031,990. Enough to finance the clogging of a minor artery. Enough that I shouldn't even be considering eating it at all. It should not be considered "food".
1:05 p.m. Funny and adorable Pre-Med student orders poutine. SOLD! I'll have mine with a diet Coke, thank you. Cause I'm sensible like that.
1:35 p.m. Get to use the bio-metric retina scanner to clock back in. Kidding. But that would be cool, wouldn't it? Instead, I got to scan a barcode.
1:38 p.m. More safety stuff. Look, we're watching ANOTHER video about how to lift stuff properly. WHMIS, MSDS, HAZCOM, ZZZZZZZ...
2:45 p.m. Huh? What happened? Where am I? ... Ha ha. I'm only kidding. I totally paid attention.
2:47 p.m. I've signed more forms and contracts than an ambassador at a Head of State meeting.
2:48 p.m. What exactly do ambassadors do, anyhow? Sounds like a cushy job... I wonder how one gets hooked up with a gig like that? Ambassador degree? Charm school?
2:49 p.m. Night merch guy has a very interesting beard thing going on. Intriguing.
3:00 p.m. Quick break. Check out schedules for this week and next. Six days in a row and forty hours. Not bad. Double check my military time. Don't screw this up, Flutter.
3:10 p.m. My manager; my entertaining, talky, cool manager takes the floor. Some rules and do's and dont's.
3:15 p.m. Harassment guidelines. Or rather, guidelines to avoid harassment.
3:23 p.m. More forms. For realsies. My signature is by now looking like a wavy line.
3:45 p.m. Glad we're almost done cause my butt is feeling a little square-ish from sitting so long.
3:48 p.m. I wonder if the key will work for the kiddos. Will they remember to go to the neighbors if it doesn't?
3:51 p.m. Man, what if they can't get in the house and the neighbor isn't home and... holy cow it's freezing outside. C'mon. This better end on time.
3:52 p.m. Get a grip. Everything will be fine.
4:00 p.m. OK, entertaining and wonderful manager. We are supposed to be done. I have kids ALONE IN THE HOUSE. OR HUDDLED ON THE PORCH IN -30 DEGREE WEATHER. Well, likely alone in the house, but still... Smile, Flutter. Stay engaged.
4:09 p.m. Please, please, please can we go? Oh, more forms. Sure. I'll scrawl, I mean SIGN those.
4:15 p.m. Done. Finally. Scanny thing again. Oh, how I wish it was a retina scanner.
4:20 p.m. Where the heck did I park and why is it so unbelievably cold out? Rocket better start. The kids! Check cell phone finally. No messages. Breathe easy, I'm sure they're inside and just fine.
4:30 p.m. Home. Kids are inside... not fighting. BONUS!!
4:38 p.m. Survey damage in the kitchen from the night before. Yes, the night before. Cause I had to go out after supper and run errands and did NOT feel like cleaning up afterwards. I am soooooo stupid. Stupid, stupid stupid. Where's a fairy godmother when you need one?
**************************
And, now... with my kitchen clean and my blog taken care of, I just have to wait for Mr. F. to get home and take us out to celebrate my First Day at Costco. Good times.
10:47 a.m. I take a seat in the common area, hoping to see one of the five management people I've met thus far.
10:49 a.m. I can't help but wonder if I'm in the right place.
10:53 a.m. No sign of management, no sign of a sign, even. Gah!
10:55 a.m. I really must not be in the right place. See people down the hall. Ask people if they would direct me to the orientation meeting. Down the hall and past the closed door, you say? Why thank you, kind people.
10:56 a.m. Mutter under my breath about incompetent directions and an almost tardy arrival to the orientation.
10:57 a.m. Walk in the door with a smile on my face that doesn't show how much I don't like wearing this collared shirt and my previous irritation with not knowing where to be for something that is rather important.
11:00 a.m. Commence orientation with soon-to-be coworkers; a very nice older woman and a cute (in a clean-cut adorable way) pre-med student.
11:15 a.m. Learn how to properly lift stuff by watching videos of numerous people lifting stuff in exaggerated motion.
11:28 a.m. Learn how to clean up spills of a nefarious nature: chemicals, acids, vomit and all other manner of yuck.
11:42 a.m. It's Freezing in here! I wonder if it would look weird if I put on my coat? I don't want to look like I want to leave or something. Brrrrrr.
11:55 a.m. Really, really cold.
12:08 p.m. Help me. My heartrate is slowing into hibernation mode. Suck it. I'm putting on my coat.
12:11 p.m. Much better.
12:30 p.m. Learn that schedules are posted in military time. Hoo-ah! Secretly hope I don't screw it up. Man, that's a gimormous schedule.
12:34 p.m. Ha ha! Pre-med student is funny!
1:00 p.m. My tummy is growling. I should've had breakfast and normally would have except that I was told that Costco was treating us to lunch and all I could think was "mmmmmmmmmm, Poutine." and do you know how many calories and fat is in Costco Poutine?? At least 5,031,990. Enough to finance the clogging of a minor artery. Enough that I shouldn't even be considering eating it at all. It should not be considered "food".
1:05 p.m. Funny and adorable Pre-Med student orders poutine. SOLD! I'll have mine with a diet Coke, thank you. Cause I'm sensible like that.
1:35 p.m. Get to use the bio-metric retina scanner to clock back in. Kidding. But that would be cool, wouldn't it? Instead, I got to scan a barcode.
1:38 p.m. More safety stuff. Look, we're watching ANOTHER video about how to lift stuff properly. WHMIS, MSDS, HAZCOM, ZZZZZZZ...
2:45 p.m. Huh? What happened? Where am I? ... Ha ha. I'm only kidding. I totally paid attention.
2:47 p.m. I've signed more forms and contracts than an ambassador at a Head of State meeting.
2:48 p.m. What exactly do ambassadors do, anyhow? Sounds like a cushy job... I wonder how one gets hooked up with a gig like that? Ambassador degree? Charm school?
2:49 p.m. Night merch guy has a very interesting beard thing going on. Intriguing.
3:00 p.m. Quick break. Check out schedules for this week and next. Six days in a row and forty hours. Not bad. Double check my military time. Don't screw this up, Flutter.
3:10 p.m. My manager; my entertaining, talky, cool manager takes the floor. Some rules and do's and dont's.
3:15 p.m. Harassment guidelines. Or rather, guidelines to avoid harassment.
3:23 p.m. More forms. For realsies. My signature is by now looking like a wavy line.
3:45 p.m. Glad we're almost done cause my butt is feeling a little square-ish from sitting so long.
3:48 p.m. I wonder if the key will work for the kiddos. Will they remember to go to the neighbors if it doesn't?
3:51 p.m. Man, what if they can't get in the house and the neighbor isn't home and... holy cow it's freezing outside. C'mon. This better end on time.
3:52 p.m. Get a grip. Everything will be fine.
4:00 p.m. OK, entertaining and wonderful manager. We are supposed to be done. I have kids ALONE IN THE HOUSE. OR HUDDLED ON THE PORCH IN -30 DEGREE WEATHER. Well, likely alone in the house, but still... Smile, Flutter. Stay engaged.
4:09 p.m. Please, please, please can we go? Oh, more forms. Sure. I'll scrawl, I mean SIGN those.
4:15 p.m. Done. Finally. Scanny thing again. Oh, how I wish it was a retina scanner.
4:20 p.m. Where the heck did I park and why is it so unbelievably cold out? Rocket better start. The kids! Check cell phone finally. No messages. Breathe easy, I'm sure they're inside and just fine.
4:30 p.m. Home. Kids are inside... not fighting. BONUS!!
4:38 p.m. Survey damage in the kitchen from the night before. Yes, the night before. Cause I had to go out after supper and run errands and did NOT feel like cleaning up afterwards. I am soooooo stupid. Stupid, stupid stupid. Where's a fairy godmother when you need one?
**************************
And, now... with my kitchen clean and my blog taken care of, I just have to wait for Mr. F. to get home and take us out to celebrate my First Day at Costco. Good times.
12.16.2008
Tweet.
Tonight I got in tune with my inner bird and became a Twitter member. What's that? It has nothing to do with birds, you say?
Darn. I should probably return that little feathered chicken costume, then.
Well, it remains that I have joined the ranks of eager Twitterers. I really don't know exactly how the whole thing works, but it seems that all the Cool People are doing it, and if there's anything I can't resist, it's the chance to try and do whatever the Cool People are doing. Only thing is I manage to do it MONTHS after it's caught on with... oh... Everyone Else and I'm hopelessly behind and noticeably Not Cool.
But, hey, at least I'm not wearing feathers and a beak. That would've blown my Cool Cover all to crap.
Darn. I should probably return that little feathered chicken costume, then.
Well, it remains that I have joined the ranks of eager Twitterers. I really don't know exactly how the whole thing works, but it seems that all the Cool People are doing it, and if there's anything I can't resist, it's the chance to try and do whatever the Cool People are doing. Only thing is I manage to do it MONTHS after it's caught on with... oh... Everyone Else and I'm hopelessly behind and noticeably Not Cool.
But, hey, at least I'm not wearing feathers and a beak. That would've blown my Cool Cover all to crap.
Cuts You Up.
Sometimes I'll hear a song for the first time, only to have an odd sense of deja vu over a lyric -- particularly metaphors -- that I've used in my journalling or writing before. Whatever the reason for this collective shared consciousness, be it fanciful or explainable, it never fails to spin my head a bit.
I first heard this song just yesterday. Apparently it's been around a long time (think 1990), albeit a somewhat obscured existence. I've not had opportunity to listen to Peter Murphy's larger body of work, or appreciate his artistry -- which apparently is great and notorious. (but, what would I know...) -- the jury is still out as to whether I can say I "love" this one. But, hearing this song brought one of those deja vu moments to me and for that alone it deserves some blog space.
Long live the metaphor.
****************************
While I may not absolutely LURRRRVVVE this song as a whole, I will say that I am awed by the man's glacial eyes. And possibly the carved cheekbones.
12.15.2008
Brrrrrrrrr...ing it On!
I promised myself I wouldn't yak on about the cold again on my blog. So, instead I will tell you all the many and varied ways I employed to keep myself warm today.
1) Went to the gym. This was by far the best thing for staying warm. I started SimpleFit level four (20 mins; 26 pull-ups(modified), 52 push-ups, 78 olympic squats (20#)... I'm so going to be hurtin' tomorrow) and then wrapped my slick, sweaty self into my parka and drove home with the steam puffing from the top of my damp head. Didn't even feel the chill.
2) Clunky, Fuzzy Winter Boots and Ski Gloves. Now, if someone would invent a way to plug these into something that would make them roasty, toasty warm... a thought which inspired my next attempt at keeping warm.
3) Hair Dryer. Yes, it was chilly in the store today and the hair dryer that we use to dry paint samples found it's way under my shirt a few times today and maybe even down my pants (At which Mr. F. could only ask "What in the world are you doing?" and I could only reply "Warming up dinner, baby"... heh heh). But we won't talk about that one. Lucky hair dryer, huh? :D
4) Jumping jacks. Reference #1. Thought this might help. It didn't really do much.
5) Extra clothes. Self explanatory. I also felt a little embarrassed by the lecherous stare of the hair dryer after our little rendezvous and felt I should cover up.
********************************
I have to go out tonight to get groceries and I cannot tell you how much I'm dreading it. But, unless I want to pack dry crusts and moldy cheese for my kid's lunch (How Hansel and Gretel of me, hey?) I really need to go out shopping.
********************************
Last night I totally re-did the Princess' room. Her room used to have a loft bed, but this summer she got a regular twin-sized bed. (which is apparently, soooooo much more grown up, Mom, like, REALLY.) It was set up in the same place as the loft bed, which was no biggie in the summer time, but come winter time... it's quite obvious that the heat register is blocked by it's placement. And a chilly Princess is a grumpy Princess.
So, last night I rearranged her furniture, which also meant vacuuming and wiping baseboards and sorting through her toys and papers and -- holy cow, the girl has STUFF. I swapped out her big computer desk for a smaller one and threw out at least a gigawatt of junk. I found some missing socks and CDs and was very thankful that I don't allow her to eat in her room as I certainly would have found regrettable rotten stuff, as well. I also slipped a fleecy blanket under her flannel sheet for warmth and added a down throw to her bed.
The Princess usually doesn't like change, not one bit. But, I think she was pretty pleased to see the new configuration of her room. And, now that things are a bit more streamlined, it should make it easier for her to maintain. Cause I was reminded that I need to expect much more from her in this area and we've had a talk to that effect. HandiPoints chore charts have been explained and Mom is in drill sergeant mode. I'm trying to find the right mix of Benevolent and Scary. Will let you all know how that works out.
********************************
Mr. F. and I have volunteered to be a part of the Ronald McDonald House. There will be a home opening in Fluttercity in the near future and I am so excited to help out.
About nine years ago, the Princess needed a couple surgeries that involved us travelling to another province's Children's Hospital for a week each time. The Ronald McDonald House was a huge blessing to our family then, providing a home away from home where it was easy to function as usual; cooking, accomodating a toddler, hanging out, etc. We met some incredible and unforgettable families and children there and we always vowed we'd find a way to give back.
We spoke with the Executive Director last week and are simply waiting to hear what needs to be done. :)
********************************
This week, I'm signing the grommets up for ski lessons at our local "mountain". I've decided that, what with selling all our worldly goods and moving to warmer climates being a bit too far out of reach, we will have to find ways to enjoy this season we call The Freaking Freezing Cold Part of the Year (traditionally known in many cultures as Winter). I have vague memories of actually Liking this season growing up and it largely had to do with being able to go downhill skiing. The prairie town I grew up in had a ski hill close by... nothing at all like the mountains, mind you... but I daresay it was the envy of the province when it comes to skiing as it's the most "mountain-like" (and if that just isn't the saddest commentary of prairie living, I don't know what is.) So, along with a bit of territorial pride in this ski hill came the snobbish derision of all other provincial ski hills (and surprisingly, there are a few). Needless to say, it actually bothers me a bit that my kids will be learning to ski on *nose in the air* THAT excuse of a ski hill.
But, learn they will. I'm actually really looking forward to skiing and boarding again. (although my snowboarding efforts were sub-par and injury-ridden... maybe I'll rethink the snowboarding!) Hopefully the ski hill isn't too much of a disappointment. I know that there's a pretty active Alpine club here, which is great. There's a trip to Kimberly, BC in the works for the New Year and if the grommets catch on fast, we might just join in the fun.
Vive la SNOW~!
1) Went to the gym. This was by far the best thing for staying warm. I started SimpleFit level four (20 mins; 26 pull-ups(modified), 52 push-ups, 78 olympic squats (20#)... I'm so going to be hurtin' tomorrow) and then wrapped my slick, sweaty self into my parka and drove home with the steam puffing from the top of my damp head. Didn't even feel the chill.
2) Clunky, Fuzzy Winter Boots and Ski Gloves. Now, if someone would invent a way to plug these into something that would make them roasty, toasty warm... a thought which inspired my next attempt at keeping warm.
3) Hair Dryer. Yes, it was chilly in the store today and the hair dryer that we use to dry paint samples found it's way under my shirt a few times today and maybe even down my pants (At which Mr. F. could only ask "What in the world are you doing?" and I could only reply "Warming up dinner, baby"... heh heh). But we won't talk about that one. Lucky hair dryer, huh? :D
4) Jumping jacks. Reference #1. Thought this might help. It didn't really do much.
5) Extra clothes. Self explanatory. I also felt a little embarrassed by the lecherous stare of the hair dryer after our little rendezvous and felt I should cover up.
********************************
I have to go out tonight to get groceries and I cannot tell you how much I'm dreading it. But, unless I want to pack dry crusts and moldy cheese for my kid's lunch (How Hansel and Gretel of me, hey?) I really need to go out shopping.
********************************
Last night I totally re-did the Princess' room. Her room used to have a loft bed, but this summer she got a regular twin-sized bed. (which is apparently, soooooo much more grown up, Mom, like, REALLY.) It was set up in the same place as the loft bed, which was no biggie in the summer time, but come winter time... it's quite obvious that the heat register is blocked by it's placement. And a chilly Princess is a grumpy Princess.
So, last night I rearranged her furniture, which also meant vacuuming and wiping baseboards and sorting through her toys and papers and -- holy cow, the girl has STUFF. I swapped out her big computer desk for a smaller one and threw out at least a gigawatt of junk. I found some missing socks and CDs and was very thankful that I don't allow her to eat in her room as I certainly would have found regrettable rotten stuff, as well. I also slipped a fleecy blanket under her flannel sheet for warmth and added a down throw to her bed.
The Princess usually doesn't like change, not one bit. But, I think she was pretty pleased to see the new configuration of her room. And, now that things are a bit more streamlined, it should make it easier for her to maintain. Cause I was reminded that I need to expect much more from her in this area and we've had a talk to that effect. HandiPoints chore charts have been explained and Mom is in drill sergeant mode. I'm trying to find the right mix of Benevolent and Scary. Will let you all know how that works out.
********************************
Mr. F. and I have volunteered to be a part of the Ronald McDonald House. There will be a home opening in Fluttercity in the near future and I am so excited to help out.
About nine years ago, the Princess needed a couple surgeries that involved us travelling to another province's Children's Hospital for a week each time. The Ronald McDonald House was a huge blessing to our family then, providing a home away from home where it was easy to function as usual; cooking, accomodating a toddler, hanging out, etc. We met some incredible and unforgettable families and children there and we always vowed we'd find a way to give back.
We spoke with the Executive Director last week and are simply waiting to hear what needs to be done. :)
********************************
This week, I'm signing the grommets up for ski lessons at our local "mountain". I've decided that, what with selling all our worldly goods and moving to warmer climates being a bit too far out of reach, we will have to find ways to enjoy this season we call The Freaking Freezing Cold Part of the Year (traditionally known in many cultures as Winter). I have vague memories of actually Liking this season growing up and it largely had to do with being able to go downhill skiing. The prairie town I grew up in had a ski hill close by... nothing at all like the mountains, mind you... but I daresay it was the envy of the province when it comes to skiing as it's the most "mountain-like" (and if that just isn't the saddest commentary of prairie living, I don't know what is.) So, along with a bit of territorial pride in this ski hill came the snobbish derision of all other provincial ski hills (and surprisingly, there are a few). Needless to say, it actually bothers me a bit that my kids will be learning to ski on *nose in the air* THAT excuse of a ski hill.
But, learn they will. I'm actually really looking forward to skiing and boarding again. (although my snowboarding efforts were sub-par and injury-ridden... maybe I'll rethink the snowboarding!) Hopefully the ski hill isn't too much of a disappointment. I know that there's a pretty active Alpine club here, which is great. There's a trip to Kimberly, BC in the works for the New Year and if the grommets catch on fast, we might just join in the fun.
Vive la SNOW~!
12.14.2008
Sold to the Highest Bidder.
The past couple months I've been pimping my skills at our paint store. I love helping people design their space and choose colors and I work with some really wonderful people so that's always enjoyable. Tinting paint is just way more fun than I expected, but then I tend to be all silly and "OOOOOHHHH, LOOK AT THAT..." about lots of stuff, so it's no surprise that the swirling and mixing of vibrant colourants into the bases would captivate my little ferret-brain. And, there's always the odd surprise, like when you tint up a green paint, expecting to see a formula with lots of blue and yellow (just like grade five art class, yes???) and find that the only colourants in it are black and yellow. HUH?!?!? Like I said, it's trippy for this little mush head.
We've been working on revamping our store, so there's been a lot of cleaning and sorting to stay on top of. I've crashed the computer system a time or two, switching out components for nicer, newer bits of sleekness. And, in a smashing moment of brilliance, I brought YouTube viewing to all the employees. One small step backwards for productivity but a giant step forward in employee morale, if I do say so, myself.
I had a few other resumes out in the ether of Fluttercity, though... and this weekend I finished up the last in a series of interviews and was offered a position. (Side note: Do you know how difficult it is to be interviewed about past work performance when your last job was EIGHT YEARS AGO??? I seriously would have done just as well to totally Make Stuff Up as to try and remember that crap. Meh.)
Anyhow, as of Wednesday this little Flutter will be working front end at Costco. Part-time. Seasonal.
I know. I KNOW! The career path doesn't get any more long and winding than this. What can I say, I am a slave to the big bucks. No? Errrr... would you believe that I'm a slave to Costco??
Awwww, you guys know me so well.
And if you treat me nice, I just may let you all know whether or not working there is at all like the movie "Employee of the Month". Cause, really, you can't watch that movie and not wonder if there's a poker game going on up in the stacks or forklift races after hours. And you KNOW that I'm on that action like stink on socks. I am your Inside Man. Girl. Whatever.
The next few weeks are going to be a little bit nuts between working two jobs, hitting the gym and keeping the house from falling apart and my kids in clean underwear. But, I think I'm up for the challenge. I mean, it's not often that one gets called upon to make such a significant contribution to society and all. And, when Costco has given so much to me, how can I not give back? That's what I'm talking about.
We've been working on revamping our store, so there's been a lot of cleaning and sorting to stay on top of. I've crashed the computer system a time or two, switching out components for nicer, newer bits of sleekness. And, in a smashing moment of brilliance, I brought YouTube viewing to all the employees. One small step backwards for productivity but a giant step forward in employee morale, if I do say so, myself.
I had a few other resumes out in the ether of Fluttercity, though... and this weekend I finished up the last in a series of interviews and was offered a position. (Side note: Do you know how difficult it is to be interviewed about past work performance when your last job was EIGHT YEARS AGO??? I seriously would have done just as well to totally Make Stuff Up as to try and remember that crap. Meh.)
Anyhow, as of Wednesday this little Flutter will be working front end at Costco. Part-time. Seasonal.
I know. I KNOW! The career path doesn't get any more long and winding than this. What can I say, I am a slave to the big bucks. No? Errrr... would you believe that I'm a slave to Costco??
Awwww, you guys know me so well.
And if you treat me nice, I just may let you all know whether or not working there is at all like the movie "Employee of the Month". Cause, really, you can't watch that movie and not wonder if there's a poker game going on up in the stacks or forklift races after hours. And you KNOW that I'm on that action like stink on socks. I am your Inside Man. Girl. Whatever.
The next few weeks are going to be a little bit nuts between working two jobs, hitting the gym and keeping the house from falling apart and my kids in clean underwear. But, I think I'm up for the challenge. I mean, it's not often that one gets called upon to make such a significant contribution to society and all. And, when Costco has given so much to me, how can I not give back? That's what I'm talking about.
12.11.2008
If Anyone Sees My Pride Walking By, Could You Please Send It Back Home to Me?
First time back at the gym in for-freaking-ever and I was so not prepared.
I was not prepared for the fact that my favorite little pair of low-rise grey yoga sweats hugged my booty more than before. It appears that when you sit on your arse for three months and eat more than you should... the booty? It grows. Really, should not be a surprise and yet, strangely? It was.
I was not prepared for being nervous to go to a co-ed gym. My last gym was a Ladies Only thing-ey and while Krav was co-ed... it was just Different. Thankfully it was not a busy night and I was only moderately shamed by the sexy skinny girlies in their workout gear and just slightly intimidated by the buff college dudes lifting ridiculous amounts of weight.
I was not prepared and forgot my water bottle in the car. Which might not be bad if I wasn't such a mouth-breather during sprints. Seriously, a mouth full of desert sand would feel better than that parched mess of lips and tongue I called my own after sprint intervals. Yuck.
I was not prepared to open my gym bag in the change room and have my eyes well up with tears... really, real TEARS at the sight and smell of my leather sparring gloves. I wanted so bad to put them on, but knew that for sure I'd be a blathering mess if I did. So I just held them to my nose like a freaky little freak and wondered what the HECK was going on with me that I'd be so messed up by this.
I was not prepared to be so disgusted with myself about how much progress I'd lost. Strength, cardio, flexibility. Gone. Tonight I only tackled about 25 mins of interval training and some ab/core work (about 1/4 of what I previously did) and, while I can't say that it Finished me... I do think I'll feel it a bit tomorrow, which really sucks and shows just how far things have regressed.
*******************
Right then. So, what I'm going to do is take this awful, negative experience and channel it into some good, old fashioned FUEL for CHANGE. Also known as Crazy Attitude that will keep me working and pushing and smiling through all manner of bodily punishment. *wink* That's me... the hard-core chiquita with the regrettably snug yoga sweats.
I was not prepared for the fact that my favorite little pair of low-rise grey yoga sweats hugged my booty more than before. It appears that when you sit on your arse for three months and eat more than you should... the booty? It grows. Really, should not be a surprise and yet, strangely? It was.
I was not prepared for being nervous to go to a co-ed gym. My last gym was a Ladies Only thing-ey and while Krav was co-ed... it was just Different. Thankfully it was not a busy night and I was only moderately shamed by the sexy skinny girlies in their workout gear and just slightly intimidated by the buff college dudes lifting ridiculous amounts of weight.
I was not prepared and forgot my water bottle in the car. Which might not be bad if I wasn't such a mouth-breather during sprints. Seriously, a mouth full of desert sand would feel better than that parched mess of lips and tongue I called my own after sprint intervals. Yuck.
I was not prepared to open my gym bag in the change room and have my eyes well up with tears... really, real TEARS at the sight and smell of my leather sparring gloves. I wanted so bad to put them on, but knew that for sure I'd be a blathering mess if I did. So I just held them to my nose like a freaky little freak and wondered what the HECK was going on with me that I'd be so messed up by this.
I was not prepared to be so disgusted with myself about how much progress I'd lost. Strength, cardio, flexibility. Gone. Tonight I only tackled about 25 mins of interval training and some ab/core work (about 1/4 of what I previously did) and, while I can't say that it Finished me... I do think I'll feel it a bit tomorrow, which really sucks and shows just how far things have regressed.
*******************
Right then. So, what I'm going to do is take this awful, negative experience and channel it into some good, old fashioned FUEL for CHANGE. Also known as Crazy Attitude that will keep me working and pushing and smiling through all manner of bodily punishment. *wink* That's me... the hard-core chiquita with the regrettably snug yoga sweats.
Stuff I'm Using Lately.
1) I'm loving the new Gmail templates. Nothing brings a smile to my face like cute little ninjas doing ninja-stuff around my email. Doubt? Have a lookeyloo.
Isn't he cute? And no... that is not my real email page, you SnoopyMcSnoopertons.
2) Burt's Bees Balm. Say that ten times quickly. This stuff is the Bomb, though when winter hits round these parts. It doesn't smell particularly gorgeous, which usually rules out a product for Flutter usage. But it is just That Good at fixing winterey skin. I'm also experimenting with going without gloves this winter. The last couple years I've worn driving gloves and it seemed that my hands got even drier than usual. I've met a few people who swear that au natural is the better, if not more painful, way to go. Of course, doing work outside and playing in the snow, etc. will mandate wooly mittens as usual... but otherwise, I'm giving it a go and so far? Less dry skin on my hands for sure. Hmmmmmm. I will say, though, that it is difficult to drive a Stick when you are sitting on one hand trying to warm it up. (And that somehow sounded a little perverted, so I'll stop there.)
3) HandiPoints. A sweet little on-line chore chart and points system for the grommets. Keep track on line or print out your chore charts. Kids earn points and you get to set the point values for treats or priviledges that they can earn with those points. Such as a family movie night or making a ginormous ice cream sundae together, skating or other outings or what not. There's also a bonus play section that's a bit like Webkinz, where the kids can use the bonus points earned to interact with their HandiCat, furnishing it's home and "purchasing" outfits and playing games and such. And best of all... it's free and safe.
4) DryerBalls. I'm not sure what that says about my dryer, but it might explain the regular groping encountered when I walk past it. Yes, my dryer is a manly dryer. And perhaps a bit more noisy when running. But, the noise and the groping is worth the trade-off for less wrinkly clothes and no static cling (even when throwing in fleece blankets). And heck, who am I kidding. The groping is a BONUS, not a trade-off. I also use the Nellie's Naturals laundry detergent which simply does it's job with no chemicals, scent or phosphates.
5) Kashi Go Lean Crunch. Cause it's yummy and crunchy and has 10g of protein and a metric tonne of fibre. Extra yummy points with banana sliced in it.
6) My gym pass. HA!!!! Sorry... not using that at all like I should. Just had to put that in here to publicly humiliate me enough to go face down my workout like a good girl tonight.
12.10.2008
Break a Leg
Last night was the grommet's school concert. This year the school went to a lot of trouble to produce a drama/musical called Polar Mountain. An Inuit tale of two lost children who find their way home with the help of an Abominably Cute Snowman and Aurora the Ice Princess.
And let me say that the Cute was turned up loud in that joint.
The Kid's musical number was during the village party and their song had them bopping and grooving and.. yes... the little boys even did a little polka-type dance with the girls at one point. And you know that parents eat that up like chocolate cake with chocolate sprinkles. The Kid so enjoyed himself and I have to say that I hardly noticed any of the other little kids on stage cause I was so amazed and astounded that that cute little blond kid with the million watt smile was MINE. I don't feel bad, though, as I'm sure that no other parents noticed my kid, either. Strange how that works.
The Princess' class came out to a dark, rock number. The two little girls were lost in a snowstorm and the Princess and her classmates provided the storm. Dressed all in black with flowing white and icy blue streamers from their arms and sparkling face paint, they whirled and thundered and threw themselves across the stage in a totally mini-broadway manner. The song crashed to an end and all the class fell to the floor, revealing the two lost girls huddling together for warmth at center stage in the spotlight. This song couldn't have been more perfect for the Princess as she thrives on the dramatic and I could tell she loved every minute of it.
Anyhow, it was a sweet bit of entertainment for a cold winter night and I was really glad that the school and the teachers involved went to all the effort to produce something pretty cool that all the students could be involved in in a creative manner. The students with speaking parts all did so very well and the snowman was truly adorable.
And let me say that the Cute was turned up loud in that joint.
The Kid's musical number was during the village party and their song had them bopping and grooving and.. yes... the little boys even did a little polka-type dance with the girls at one point. And you know that parents eat that up like chocolate cake with chocolate sprinkles. The Kid so enjoyed himself and I have to say that I hardly noticed any of the other little kids on stage cause I was so amazed and astounded that that cute little blond kid with the million watt smile was MINE. I don't feel bad, though, as I'm sure that no other parents noticed my kid, either. Strange how that works.
The Princess' class came out to a dark, rock number. The two little girls were lost in a snowstorm and the Princess and her classmates provided the storm. Dressed all in black with flowing white and icy blue streamers from their arms and sparkling face paint, they whirled and thundered and threw themselves across the stage in a totally mini-broadway manner. The song crashed to an end and all the class fell to the floor, revealing the two lost girls huddling together for warmth at center stage in the spotlight. This song couldn't have been more perfect for the Princess as she thrives on the dramatic and I could tell she loved every minute of it.
Anyhow, it was a sweet bit of entertainment for a cold winter night and I was really glad that the school and the teachers involved went to all the effort to produce something pretty cool that all the students could be involved in in a creative manner. The students with speaking parts all did so very well and the snowman was truly adorable.
12.08.2008
Open Letter To My Hormones.
I realize and appreciate the great effort you've gone to during the previous years of my life to keep things orderly and timely. You have had an important job to do and have done it well -- probably better than I could do myself, truth be told.
We've had some good times, you and I. You quickly rose through the union ranks with your work on the Great Complexion Project of '89 and while I wasn't crazy about the whole Time of the Month Endeavour, it was a brilliant marketing ploy to throw the Girls and the Butt in on the deal. We've had a pretty easy-going work relationship and I took for granted that you didn't crack me out on the PMS train each month. I always appreciated that you didn't jump in on the water retention trend. Maybe I never told you that. I was especially proud of you when you revamped the Girls that first pregnancy. That was sweet.
I know we've had some rough patches. Hair and Nails wasn't your forte and there were a couple times you were, uhhh, late for the party and stressed me out a bit. But, you know... we communicated. We moved on.
I thought we were a team.
So, what I really need to know is... what's the dealio with the gazillion blemishes you've been letting in the gate? We have Standards up in this place. And me looking like a spotty troll is not on the agenda last I looked. I know you are capable of doing Better, little hormones. I have seen it with my own eyes and have the yearbook pictures to prove it.
I've got my eye on you. Year end review is coming up and I may just have a mind to outsource this job. Buck up, cowboys.
We've had some good times, you and I. You quickly rose through the union ranks with your work on the Great Complexion Project of '89 and while I wasn't crazy about the whole Time of the Month Endeavour, it was a brilliant marketing ploy to throw the Girls and the Butt in on the deal. We've had a pretty easy-going work relationship and I took for granted that you didn't crack me out on the PMS train each month. I always appreciated that you didn't jump in on the water retention trend. Maybe I never told you that. I was especially proud of you when you revamped the Girls that first pregnancy. That was sweet.
I know we've had some rough patches. Hair and Nails wasn't your forte and there were a couple times you were, uhhh, late for the party and stressed me out a bit. But, you know... we communicated. We moved on.
I thought we were a team.
So, what I really need to know is... what's the dealio with the gazillion blemishes you've been letting in the gate? We have Standards up in this place. And me looking like a spotty troll is not on the agenda last I looked. I know you are capable of doing Better, little hormones. I have seen it with my own eyes and have the yearbook pictures to prove it.
I've got my eye on you. Year end review is coming up and I may just have a mind to outsource this job. Buck up, cowboys.
Roadtrip Recap Hijacked.
So, this is the spot where I would normally be telling all of you about my weekend away with the kids. I'd tell you about all the funny fun and all the exciting excitement that comes with travelling four hours with two kids in the backseat (cause that was more joy than should be allowed... if you're into bloodsport and vitriolic debate.) on icy roads. And I'd maybe mention that packing for two "big" kids STILL takes a lot of work and trunk space despite what you always told yourself when you had babies in tow. I could also tell you all the other truly great parts of my trip; my cute little niece and visiting with my parents and grandparents and brother and sister-in-law.
I would be telling you all about it except for the fact that, well, I blew my brains out before the weekend even started...
Something like that. But it will make more sense if I back up a bit. I spent the day before leaving feeling really pretty awful. You don't have to know me (or read this blog) for long before you know that I have sinus Issues. Behind this cute little nose is satan's playground, complete with sharp objects and stuff specially designed to make a head miserable.
So, this is how it goes for me. Things are normal until one day, usually by afternoon, I get feeling chilled and flu-ish. The playground starts winding up into full carnival mode by evening and I spend the next day or so working all my tricks to pull the plug on this. If I can get things under control within a week, I'm usually back in business for at least another week or two until it's time to Rinse, Repeat. And if I can't kick it, I know I'm in for the long haul which really, really, really sucks.
Thursday was Flu and Chill day. I finished out my day at work feeling crappy and resigned myself to the fact that I would be spending my weekend away steaming my brain out with saline spray and hot Magic bags which I packed carefully into my luggage on Friday morning.
And never took out of my suitcase. Cause I found THIS:
(picture removed cause it crashed my template.)
I would be telling you all about it except for the fact that, well, I blew my brains out before the weekend even started...
Something like that. But it will make more sense if I back up a bit. I spent the day before leaving feeling really pretty awful. You don't have to know me (or read this blog) for long before you know that I have sinus Issues. Behind this cute little nose is satan's playground, complete with sharp objects and stuff specially designed to make a head miserable.
So, this is how it goes for me. Things are normal until one day, usually by afternoon, I get feeling chilled and flu-ish. The playground starts winding up into full carnival mode by evening and I spend the next day or so working all my tricks to pull the plug on this. If I can get things under control within a week, I'm usually back in business for at least another week or two until it's time to Rinse, Repeat. And if I can't kick it, I know I'm in for the long haul which really, really, really sucks.
Thursday was Flu and Chill day. I finished out my day at work feeling crappy and resigned myself to the fact that I would be spending my weekend away steaming my brain out with saline spray and hot Magic bags which I packed carefully into my luggage on Friday morning.
And never took out of my suitcase. Cause I found THIS:
(picture removed cause it crashed my template.)
My Mama was given this by her chiropractor (totally The World's Greatest Chiropractor, btw) and she passed it on to me to try out. It is a homeopathic formulation which means it is meant to be taken orally. Mr. Chiropractor recommended it be, well... snorted.
I was desperate/foolish enough to pony up with what looked like a little coke spoon and measure out ten drops of this stuff. Clearly, there was a high alcohol content as just lifting it to my sweet little nostril brought water to my eyes. Primitive instincts fired up in warning and I swear that I saw red before tipping back my head and sucking what I later found out was 45% vol. alcohol into my cranium.
HOLYCRIKEYGAKFLAKKINGBRRRRIFFFNAAHAAAH*breatheFlutter*MOTHEROFPEARLSHEEPDIP!!!
The word "pain" cannot even describe that Mack truck. It was like my face gave birth to a very large, spiny cactus. Explosively.
It was staggering. Literally... I staggered trying to stay upright before I found something to lean against. My eyes were pouring water and my teeth felt like they might fall out. I managed to breathe only cause I reminded myself to. Somewhere in that firey fog in my head I remembered that I still had Round Two to finish. I clenched that heinous little coke spoon in my trembling hand and measured out those dreaded ten drops much like dropping lead bullets into a six-shooter before facing down an enemy. I was committed. Deep breath. A bit of inspiring trashy self-talk and... Tip and Snort.
ARRRARRAARRRRRRRRGGGHHHHH*burrrblesnort*FRICKINFRACKSOMOFA!!!!!!
I heard a pounding in my ears and it took a moment to realize that I was hearing the heel of my hand banging on the countertop I was bent over. Sweet baby Jesus have mercy.
And He did. Cause four hours later? After the throbbing in my jaw and burning in my cheekbones had abated? I was TOTALLY all better. Whether through the medicinal herbal component which treated my sinusitis, or the frank, raw sterilization and stripping of my mucus membranes by the alcohol content... I was healed. Alternatively, it is entirely possible that my sinuses packed their bags and left FlutterTown under the cover of night, never to return except to sue my ass for Assault and Battery.
No matter. I am a happy camper... and the new mother of two spiny cactuses named Frick and Frack. What a ride.
12.04.2008
Cause I Love Them So.
Tomorrow the kidlets and I head out roadtrippin' to visit my parents. Beyond all the regular reasons why it will be lots of fun is This little bit of iTunes shopping I did last night. Behold... the HAVING FUN IN THE CAR PLAYLIST:
Axel F -- Crazy Frog
The Hamsterdance Song -- Hampton the Hamster
Unbelieveable -- EMF
Boom! Shake the Room -- DJ Jazzy Jeff & the Fresh Prince (Holla! Will Smith!)
Walk This Way -- Run DMC (sneaking a little Aerosmith in there...)
Jump, Jive and Wail -- The Brian Setzer Orchestra
All Star -- SmashMouth
Le Freak -- Chic
We Got the Beat -- The Go-Go's
Jump Around -- House of Pain
Hey Baby (feat. Bounty Killer) -- No Doubt
Oh Yeah -- Yello (remember Ferris Bueler?...)
Who Let the Dogs Out -- Baha Men (OK, I can't stand this one but the kiddos love it)
Tubthumping -- Chumbawumba (I'm hoping the drinking refs are missed)
U Can't Touch This -- MC Hammer (why did I download this one??)
Let's Get It Started -- Black Eyed Peas
Hey Ya! -- OutKast (clean edit)
Rocket will be jammin' all the way down the highway.
Also, since the Kid has his DS to keep him busy, I had pity on the Princess and downloaded the entire Season 1 of Heartland. You KNOW she'll be lovin' me til the day I die.
And, I know that you all are looking at this list and wondering where all MY downloads are. Honestly... I didn't really get much. Just the new GNR single "Chinese Democracy". Which did not disappoint -- that much (but let me say there's a reason I didn't download the whole album...). Also, I endured an embarrassing five minutes where I contemplated Bret Michael's four acoustic session singles. Yeah... let's forget that.
I've got my eye on a few things (of more substantial interest and quality than Bret Michaels acoustic sessions), but it will have to wait for another day when I'm not busy blowing money on my kids. That day does come, doesn't it??
See y'all after the weekend!
Axel F -- Crazy Frog
The Hamsterdance Song -- Hampton the Hamster
Unbelieveable -- EMF
Boom! Shake the Room -- DJ Jazzy Jeff & the Fresh Prince (Holla! Will Smith!)
Walk This Way -- Run DMC (sneaking a little Aerosmith in there...)
Jump, Jive and Wail -- The Brian Setzer Orchestra
All Star -- SmashMouth
Le Freak -- Chic
We Got the Beat -- The Go-Go's
Jump Around -- House of Pain
Hey Baby (feat. Bounty Killer) -- No Doubt
Oh Yeah -- Yello (remember Ferris Bueler?...)
Who Let the Dogs Out -- Baha Men (OK, I can't stand this one but the kiddos love it)
Tubthumping -- Chumbawumba (I'm hoping the drinking refs are missed)
U Can't Touch This -- MC Hammer (why did I download this one??)
Let's Get It Started -- Black Eyed Peas
Hey Ya! -- OutKast (clean edit)
Rocket will be jammin' all the way down the highway.
Also, since the Kid has his DS to keep him busy, I had pity on the Princess and downloaded the entire Season 1 of Heartland. You KNOW she'll be lovin' me til the day I die.
And, I know that you all are looking at this list and wondering where all MY downloads are. Honestly... I didn't really get much. Just the new GNR single "Chinese Democracy". Which did not disappoint -- that much (but let me say there's a reason I didn't download the whole album...). Also, I endured an embarrassing five minutes where I contemplated Bret Michael's four acoustic session singles. Yeah... let's forget that.
I've got my eye on a few things (of more substantial interest and quality than Bret Michaels acoustic sessions), but it will have to wait for another day when I'm not busy blowing money on my kids. That day does come, doesn't it??
See y'all after the weekend!
12.03.2008
I Can't Think of a Title Cause My Brain Is Frozen.
Yeah, that thing I said about the unseasonably lovely and just really, really NICE weather we've been having?
I should've kept my big mouth shut.
Things are blow-ey and cold around here and I got caught without my winter coat on (cause, you know, the warm-ish weather and all...) and I swear that when that icy wind blew through my oh-so-sporty navy breaker; my nips attempted to wrap themselves around my spine in .05 seconds and my lungs didn't know whether to cry or shatter into a thousand pink crystals.
I always pictured Mother Nature as some sort of serene, lovely, regal woman.
Clearly, she is a cracked-out, psychotic meth ho on some sort of wrathful binge, bent upon the torment and destruction of us all. Clearly.
I should've kept my big mouth shut.
Things are blow-ey and cold around here and I got caught without my winter coat on (cause, you know, the warm-ish weather and all...) and I swear that when that icy wind blew through my oh-so-sporty navy breaker; my nips attempted to wrap themselves around my spine in .05 seconds and my lungs didn't know whether to cry or shatter into a thousand pink crystals.
I always pictured Mother Nature as some sort of serene, lovely, regal woman.
Clearly, she is a cracked-out, psychotic meth ho on some sort of wrathful binge, bent upon the torment and destruction of us all. Clearly.
Let It Rock.
Official New Workout Song of the Flutterby.
Also, the Video which features the Striped Hoodie Which Has Captured My Heart (tm).
Also, a possible Rockstar Keyboard Moment.
Lil Wayne is regrettable.
12.02.2008
That's Why.
*phone call*
Me: Hello.
Mr.F.: Hey, how's my 13 yr old Ball and Chain?
Me: Very Funny. Happy Anniversary to you, too.
Mr.F.: So, do you mind if I go out with the guys tonight?
******************************
Such a funny dude. Such a funny dude who's going to get the smack down on his WRY, SARDONIC self.
FYI, he is taking this certain, cute Ball and Chain out tonight. No guys allowed.
Me: Hello.
Mr.F.: Hey, how's my 13 yr old Ball and Chain?
Me: Very Funny. Happy Anniversary to you, too.
Mr.F.: So, do you mind if I go out with the guys tonight?
******************************
Such a funny dude. Such a funny dude who's going to get the smack down on his WRY, SARDONIC self.
FYI, he is taking this certain, cute Ball and Chain out tonight. No guys allowed.
SuperSpy Lite
With the new Bond flick, Quantum of Solace, out in the theatres; our cable provider has placed all of the old Bond movies on their On Demand video feature.
I sheepishly admit that I previously had only watched a Bond movie accidentally. As in, "I accidentally passed out on the couch and when I woke up there was an old Bond flick on the tube and I was too tired to move." It's not that I don't like spies. I totally crush hard on them. Love the intrigue, the drama, the tension, all the naughty trouble they get into. Where's the downside? It's just that I expect a certain level of competency from my spies.
And herein lies my issue with Bond. Sure, he's smooth. But he's not dark. He trusts too much.
He drinks the COFFEE that the bad guys give him after he's captured. I mean, getting captured in the first place is at least a strike or two against you having a long career as a spy, anyhow. But, really? Must we also partake of the foodstuffs given to us by our captors? I realize that I am but a lowly layperson in the world of an International Man of Mystery, but I think it's pretty self-evident that the bad dudes probably put something sinister in the food. I mean, barring the real lethal stuff that burns a bloody hole through your body, chances are that at least one person spit in it. Really, Mr. Bond. Don't drink the coffee. What's that? You feel woozy?
Too trusting.
Also, too bumbling. Walking into traps, touching stuff that shouldn't be touched. Generally being clueless of his environment.
I sheepishly admit that I previously had only watched a Bond movie accidentally. As in, "I accidentally passed out on the couch and when I woke up there was an old Bond flick on the tube and I was too tired to move." It's not that I don't like spies. I totally crush hard on them. Love the intrigue, the drama, the tension, all the naughty trouble they get into. Where's the downside? It's just that I expect a certain level of competency from my spies.
And herein lies my issue with Bond. Sure, he's smooth. But he's not dark. He trusts too much.
He drinks the COFFEE that the bad guys give him after he's captured. I mean, getting captured in the first place is at least a strike or two against you having a long career as a spy, anyhow. But, really? Must we also partake of the foodstuffs given to us by our captors? I realize that I am but a lowly layperson in the world of an International Man of Mystery, but I think it's pretty self-evident that the bad dudes probably put something sinister in the food. I mean, barring the real lethal stuff that burns a bloody hole through your body, chances are that at least one person spit in it. Really, Mr. Bond. Don't drink the coffee. What's that? You feel woozy?
Too trusting.
Also, too bumbling. Walking into traps, touching stuff that shouldn't be touched. Generally being clueless of his environment.
Now, maybe I just expect too much of my spies. Call me jaded.
Call me hard to impress.
Maybe I'm spoiled.
I can appreciate the shows from a historical point, even from a genre perspective. But old-Bond as lethal spy? Hardly believable. Jason Bourne would crush him. On his worst day, with one arm tied behind his back and while breaking code on his blackberry to boot. Craig's Bond might be more of a challenge... hard to say.
What do you think? How does Bond match up against your favorite spy?
12.01.2008
I Ain't Cheap And Neither Is My Time.
This is going to be another one of those bulleted List posts where I just babble on and on about myself and the events of the past few days. After all, I am ALL about the Economy of Words and, frankly, attempting to segue is beyond my capabilities this morning.
- Friday afternoon, our business did a contractor appreciation lunch. Really very informal and fun. Like a "Come And Go Tea" kind of thing, except without the Tea or the nicely dressed and Clean people. Also, without the breakable plates and real silverware. Also... OK, so it's nothing like a Tea. But, the guys did come and go as they were able. Our store has been doing this thing a few times a year for a while, now. And it's been pretty successful in doing what it's supposed to do, which is make the trades feel welcome in our ritzy *murphlegasp* little corner of decorating heaven *HA!* and gives us the opportunity to do business-ey kind of things with them such as Inform, Collaborate and Communicate. Also, Sell Stuff. What it also means is that I get the dubious pleasure of making more Chili than the law should allow the night before. How much is More Than Should Be Allowed? Try somewhere between Commercial Pasta Pot and Industrial Vat of the stuff. Yes, that is an amount that is officially described as A WITCH'S CAULDRON of chili. Except it's rather hard to come by Cauldrons in this day and age, which is unfortunate as one would have been extremely handy. So, I was left piecing together four batches of chili into numerous, very large slow cookers and hoping for the best. At 3 a.m. Cause I'm dedicated to the Chili like that and wouldn't want it to get scorched from too many cooking hours. Mission accomplished, bee-yatches. That was some Slammin' chili -- got "spoons up" from contractors around the store. My wounded pride (I refer you, dear reader, to the Beef Stew CookOff post) was healed and I once again walk tall in the kitchen.
- We are having some the THE NICEST winter weather, ever. I'm sure we'll pay for it somewhere down the line... we always do. But, yeah. For now, THE NICEST.
- Chanukah. Our family just wrapped up a super fun eight days with, uhhh, more Fun. Special thanks to the lovely JJ for hosting the gory lot of us. I promise the next one's on me, sis!
- Nothing says "family" like a little GNR. Take one Paradise City video:
and add four wildly flailing, dancing, stalling, flipping and headbanging grommets. Add way too much laughter and an inordinate amount of Mommy/Auntie pride (cause, yeah... out of all the songs these kids could pick? GNR, dudes!!!) and you have a recipe for happiness. Or societal anarchy. Take your pick. - New Zealand. Yeah, I'm doing it, again. I'm one step away from phoning the Consulate to request an immigration packet. You can't tie me down. You can't fence me in. I was made to ROAM. ...Or at least to crazily contemplate roaming while being safely entrenched in my life and home Here in the frozen part of the Frozen North. Which, granted, has been unseasonably lovely and all of late. But, it's no NewFreakingZealand, I tell you that much. I do give Mr. F. grand and glorious kudos for understanding this part of me -- this little unconventional bit of me that comes up with these idealistic dreams. I'm not sure if he's just humoring me or really is willing to go on the wildest adventure with me, but he's being exceptionally accomodating of all my enraptured babbling about this. High Five, Mr. F.!!!
- And now... now I must go deliver paint. Excitement like this does not come cheap.
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