Yeah. I've been busy. Super, super busy and I've about had it with the busyness.
And as much as I'm sure you're all dying to hear all the mundane, ridiculous things that have been filling my days, (what? I thought you guys liked hearing that stuff!!) I'm going to skip that part lest my head blow up and splatter it's brain-ish contents all over the wall behind me.
I'm going to talk about really important stuff instead.
Derby.
Ha hahaha. Got you all there... Don't think I didn't hear that collective sigh. Don't think I didn't see you roll your eyes and make little swirly Crazy-Lady Gestures beside your head with your non-derby loving fingers.
But seriously? I do have derby stories.
*chirp chirp* *silence*
Really, readers? That's all you can give me? Crickets chirping and silence in response to the temptation of DERBY stories??? Really?
I expected more.
*sigh*
OK, the truth is, I really don't have anything to write about. But I'm feeling bad for neglecting this little blog. I'll try really, really hard to find something to write about.
Promise.
I still can't believe you didn't want to hear the derby stories.
:)
7.30.2009
It's hard to believe that summer holidays are halfway done. I had all these plans for how vacation was going to go; things to do... it was going to be the perfect balance of work and play. I was going to get up at the crack of dawn and do my daily stuff before the kiddos got up... They were going to work with me in the yard... I was going to tackle some big projects...
Right.
The truth of the matter is that some projects have been tackled, but there a couple still staring me in the face. And the whole idea of children working with me seems to be nothing more than a pipe dream. The crack of dawn bit? Forgot to take into account the fact that the kiddos are keeping pretty late bedtimes during the holidays and thus Mr. F. and I end up staying up much later, just to enjoy some peace and quiet in the house. And after only falling asleep at 2am; the crack of dawn is not seeing my face anytime soon.
Which basically means that SOMEONE has to take charge, here... and that person should likely be of an adult/parent persuasion.
***************************
Our derby scrimmage was a huge success on all accounts. We pretty much played to a capacity crowd and put on a pretty great show. The score was tied at halftime and the intensity was high! My team won, which was kinda cool. First time I got to skate the victory lap and be congratulated by the other team. I played a pretty good game, in my opinion, and learned a ton from the great girls I was playing with. Three minor penalties, but no majors -- and I didn't really even get slammed by any good hits. Which either means I'm getting good at this, or that I'm not in the action enough. Anyway, it was nice to wake up the next morning only feeling moderately sore. I've got a few bruises to show for my time and effort but nothing huge or picture worthy!
*****************************
The next few weeks are going to be busy. A fun week at the lake followed by a not-so-fun week of morning til night renovations on our rental property. A quick trip to play derby in Calgary at the Tattoo Festival and then I'm back to the rental property to finish off the final touches and do an open house. This place REALLY needs to sell. Gah!! After that I've got about a week to get the kiddos ready for school and finish off some of the projects here at home. Namely this ginormous closet organizer that I've got to assemble. It's messing with my head, all sitting there in it's poorly labeled boxes with no instructions. Taunting me with visions of sure failure and dismal assembly scenarios. I will have to find a way to conquer my fear. :)
*****************************
The Kid has taken up a new routine of reading each night before bed. I really think it's cause of the Princess' example. She absolutely loves to read and we regularly spend some special time before bed with her reading out loud to me. Well, it seems that the Kid wants to get in on some of that action, too, and I couldn't be happier.
Grade One was kind of a tough year for him; he's a classic little boy who struggled to stay put and stay quiet; the idea of buckling down and actually WORKING at something that didn't come easily was pretty foreign to him. And reading was something that didn't come easily. It's not that he didn't GET IT... he'd just rather not WORK at it. But, somehow... almost miraculously, he has now decided to nail this. And he's tackling it in a pretty big way, reading books at a grade four or five level -- which isn't something I expected at all. He struggles through them and is truly working hard to decipher and decode these words, to make sense of the punctuation and dialogue and I could not be prouder.
*****************************
All in all it's been a pretty good summer thus far. I look out my window and see actual, green, growing grass. Our fence is almost done and Mr. F. will be doing the rocked portion of the yard sometime next week while I'm working on renovating the rental. The kids are tanned and enjoying a leisurely summer at home, playing with friends and doing Summertime Kid Stuff (which was something we weren't sure would pan out when I was working full time) and we've got a week of lake time ahead; visiting with beloved family members and enjoying some relaxing sun, sand and water. Hopefully the next four weeks goes as well as the first four.
Right.
The truth of the matter is that some projects have been tackled, but there a couple still staring me in the face. And the whole idea of children working with me seems to be nothing more than a pipe dream. The crack of dawn bit? Forgot to take into account the fact that the kiddos are keeping pretty late bedtimes during the holidays and thus Mr. F. and I end up staying up much later, just to enjoy some peace and quiet in the house. And after only falling asleep at 2am; the crack of dawn is not seeing my face anytime soon.
Which basically means that SOMEONE has to take charge, here... and that person should likely be of an adult/parent persuasion.
***************************
Our derby scrimmage was a huge success on all accounts. We pretty much played to a capacity crowd and put on a pretty great show. The score was tied at halftime and the intensity was high! My team won, which was kinda cool. First time I got to skate the victory lap and be congratulated by the other team. I played a pretty good game, in my opinion, and learned a ton from the great girls I was playing with. Three minor penalties, but no majors -- and I didn't really even get slammed by any good hits. Which either means I'm getting good at this, or that I'm not in the action enough. Anyway, it was nice to wake up the next morning only feeling moderately sore. I've got a few bruises to show for my time and effort but nothing huge or picture worthy!
*****************************
The next few weeks are going to be busy. A fun week at the lake followed by a not-so-fun week of morning til night renovations on our rental property. A quick trip to play derby in Calgary at the Tattoo Festival and then I'm back to the rental property to finish off the final touches and do an open house. This place REALLY needs to sell. Gah!! After that I've got about a week to get the kiddos ready for school and finish off some of the projects here at home. Namely this ginormous closet organizer that I've got to assemble. It's messing with my head, all sitting there in it's poorly labeled boxes with no instructions. Taunting me with visions of sure failure and dismal assembly scenarios. I will have to find a way to conquer my fear. :)
*****************************
The Kid has taken up a new routine of reading each night before bed. I really think it's cause of the Princess' example. She absolutely loves to read and we regularly spend some special time before bed with her reading out loud to me. Well, it seems that the Kid wants to get in on some of that action, too, and I couldn't be happier.
Grade One was kind of a tough year for him; he's a classic little boy who struggled to stay put and stay quiet; the idea of buckling down and actually WORKING at something that didn't come easily was pretty foreign to him. And reading was something that didn't come easily. It's not that he didn't GET IT... he'd just rather not WORK at it. But, somehow... almost miraculously, he has now decided to nail this. And he's tackling it in a pretty big way, reading books at a grade four or five level -- which isn't something I expected at all. He struggles through them and is truly working hard to decipher and decode these words, to make sense of the punctuation and dialogue and I could not be prouder.
*****************************
All in all it's been a pretty good summer thus far. I look out my window and see actual, green, growing grass. Our fence is almost done and Mr. F. will be doing the rocked portion of the yard sometime next week while I'm working on renovating the rental. The kids are tanned and enjoying a leisurely summer at home, playing with friends and doing Summertime Kid Stuff (which was something we weren't sure would pan out when I was working full time) and we've got a week of lake time ahead; visiting with beloved family members and enjoying some relaxing sun, sand and water. Hopefully the next four weeks goes as well as the first four.
7.25.2009
Skate Hard. Turn Left.
My eyes opened this morning as this bright, shiny thought hit my brain.
DERBY TONIGHT!!
Our league has been working tirelessly to pull off an interprovincial Scrimmage tonight. Two derby games followed by a fab after-party. So many details to look after when it comes to bout production. It's like planning a wedding, only more violent.
But, we have prevailed and last nights' practice was a thing of beauty. Derby girls who had arrived in Fluttercity early swarmed the track. And the sight of that much speed, intensity and general derby awesomeness was a sight to behold, really quite awe-inspiring. The mood was high and it was a perfect intro to what I hope is a fantastic night of high adrenaline action for our fans.
The past few weeks have been a blur of activity; from completing my tasks as bout committee member and Interleague Rep, attending practices, pimping out tickets in our city's open air mall and even some arts and crafts action as I got my two scrimmage shirts painted, torn, laced, and stitched. Our bout committee was stretched thin. We are a small start-up league and this is our first really big production. We wanted to do it right, do it well, set a benchmark that other leagues can respect. I think we have done it.
Our humble warehouse has been transformed. The concrete floor that we abuse weekly is now shined and polished and looks ready to inflict some damage, itself. The track is laid and lighted and just looking at it gives me shivers!
I've never before been a part of a sport which draws an audience. But now that I am, those movie sequences where the athlete looks out over the empty field before a big game... they make a whole lot more sense. It's like the seed of something great is held in the quiet. The emptiness of the track is actually not empty, it's pregnant and alive with the energy of the collisions, the plays, the screaming and cheering, the pounding of music and yelling announcers punctuating the air with their play by play. It's like you can see with your mind's eye the swarm of your teammates on the track, can hear the smack of bodies hitting the floor -- the sharp crack of equipment and the dull thud of flesh and bone -- and the low hum and hustle of wheels flying over the concrete. You can smell the sweat and the raunchy equipment; the aroma of vendor treats and food and spilled drinks.
I've decided that I love that scene.
Tomorrow morning I will wake up and will feel like I was hit by a train. It is a full body pain that goes to your bones. It is new to me, only having played two bouts thus far, but I already know it well. It is something that your brain doesn't forget and can recall at will.
I don't look forward to it.
But I run towards those moments that will bring it. The straining and striving. Pushing my body to it's max, pulling out all the stops on my endurance level and energy. Overcoming that primal part of one's brain that screams at you to avoid the collision, to bypass the hit, to stay away from the action. Each jam is filled with personal drama. The moments fly by and it's a constant battle; plays made, opportunities grabbed, hits completed... or the sting of letting a jammer get by, missing that opening, leaving yourself vulnerable for a nasty hit. Yin and Yang. And each moment impacts you, like a little emotional explosion inside your head, propelling you to the next with either the stark resolution to never let that mistake happen again or the heady sweep of adrenaline from doing your job well.
I want to earn my pain, and know that tomorrow morning another derby girl is waking up feeling the same way, and it's cause I did my job well.
I am so proud of my derby sisters who have worked so hard to make tonight happen. We are a force to be reckoned with. We are ready to put on a show that sets a standard in our province for production benchmarks. We are ready to be rockstars.
DERBY TONIGHT!!
Our league has been working tirelessly to pull off an interprovincial Scrimmage tonight. Two derby games followed by a fab after-party. So many details to look after when it comes to bout production. It's like planning a wedding, only more violent.
But, we have prevailed and last nights' practice was a thing of beauty. Derby girls who had arrived in Fluttercity early swarmed the track. And the sight of that much speed, intensity and general derby awesomeness was a sight to behold, really quite awe-inspiring. The mood was high and it was a perfect intro to what I hope is a fantastic night of high adrenaline action for our fans.
The past few weeks have been a blur of activity; from completing my tasks as bout committee member and Interleague Rep, attending practices, pimping out tickets in our city's open air mall and even some arts and crafts action as I got my two scrimmage shirts painted, torn, laced, and stitched. Our bout committee was stretched thin. We are a small start-up league and this is our first really big production. We wanted to do it right, do it well, set a benchmark that other leagues can respect. I think we have done it.
Our humble warehouse has been transformed. The concrete floor that we abuse weekly is now shined and polished and looks ready to inflict some damage, itself. The track is laid and lighted and just looking at it gives me shivers!
I've never before been a part of a sport which draws an audience. But now that I am, those movie sequences where the athlete looks out over the empty field before a big game... they make a whole lot more sense. It's like the seed of something great is held in the quiet. The emptiness of the track is actually not empty, it's pregnant and alive with the energy of the collisions, the plays, the screaming and cheering, the pounding of music and yelling announcers punctuating the air with their play by play. It's like you can see with your mind's eye the swarm of your teammates on the track, can hear the smack of bodies hitting the floor -- the sharp crack of equipment and the dull thud of flesh and bone -- and the low hum and hustle of wheels flying over the concrete. You can smell the sweat and the raunchy equipment; the aroma of vendor treats and food and spilled drinks.
I've decided that I love that scene.
Tomorrow morning I will wake up and will feel like I was hit by a train. It is a full body pain that goes to your bones. It is new to me, only having played two bouts thus far, but I already know it well. It is something that your brain doesn't forget and can recall at will.
I don't look forward to it.
But I run towards those moments that will bring it. The straining and striving. Pushing my body to it's max, pulling out all the stops on my endurance level and energy. Overcoming that primal part of one's brain that screams at you to avoid the collision, to bypass the hit, to stay away from the action. Each jam is filled with personal drama. The moments fly by and it's a constant battle; plays made, opportunities grabbed, hits completed... or the sting of letting a jammer get by, missing that opening, leaving yourself vulnerable for a nasty hit. Yin and Yang. And each moment impacts you, like a little emotional explosion inside your head, propelling you to the next with either the stark resolution to never let that mistake happen again or the heady sweep of adrenaline from doing your job well.
I want to earn my pain, and know that tomorrow morning another derby girl is waking up feeling the same way, and it's cause I did my job well.
I am so proud of my derby sisters who have worked so hard to make tonight happen. We are a force to be reckoned with. We are ready to put on a show that sets a standard in our province for production benchmarks. We are ready to be rockstars.
7.24.2009
Summa-Time Fun!
Last weekend we enjoyed a sunny daytrip to visit my sis-in-law, the lovely JJ.
It was a beautiful, hot day and it didn't take long for all four kiddos to hit the pool water to cool off.
For four hours.
Such is the life of a child.
Thanks for a wonderful, relaxing time, JJ.
It was a beautiful, hot day and it didn't take long for all four kiddos to hit the pool water to cool off.
For four hours.
Such is the life of a child.
Thanks for a wonderful, relaxing time, JJ.
7.18.2009
Cheater, cheater...
It's been over a week since I last posted and I need something to get my mind in writing mode again. So, I'm cheating and stealing a meme from my lovely sis-in-law's blog.
1) What would you like written on your headstone?
Not sure if I like the idea of a headstone. I kinda want to be just plain old buried under some great big beautiful tree in the wilderness or something like that.
2) What is your dream car?
This looks like fun. I think I'd have to fight with Mr. F. for it, though.
3) Is pornography morally wrong?
Yes.
4)What is the best music video EVER????
For pure, Notebook-esque cryin' lovin' hurtin', check out Rascal Flatts,"What Hurts The Most" and for totally hilarious literal take on a classic mind-boggling video, check out "Total Eclipse of the Heart." and, last but not least, a haunting, eerie video that illustrates Live's "Lightning Crashes"
5)Do you carry a donor card? Why or why not?
Actually, I don't think I do... have no idea why.
6)What color do you prefer your pens to write in?
Black!
7)Are babies cute?
Of course they are, but I personally think that puppies are the cutest of all infant creation.
8)Do you subscribe to a magazine? Which one?
No. I would subscribe to National Geographic if I were to do that kind of thing, though. Or Popular Mechanics. (What? I read it for the articles.)
9)What was the last thing you used a microwave for?
I thawed out a brownie for the Kid. It was lunch. Saturday's rule.
10)What book are you reading?
Just finished reading "Pretties" before I let the Princess read it. Just wanted to be kinda in the know about what things we should discuss or maybe edit.
11)Cite a song lyric that means something to you.
Be my friend
Hold me, wrap me up
Unfold me
I am small
and needy
Warm me up
And breathe me
-- Sia, "Breathe Me"
12)Tell me a joke
What did the hot dog say when it won the race? "I'm the Wiener!!!"
13)Who should play James Bond?
Maybe rugged French-Canadian actor Roy Dupuis.
14)Write a Haiku Poem (3 lines, 5-7-5 syllables)
What is a haiku?
My brain doesn't work like that,
Paring down my words.
15)What's the oldest thing you own?
An antique silver and jade bracelet.
1) What would you like written on your headstone?
Not sure if I like the idea of a headstone. I kinda want to be just plain old buried under some great big beautiful tree in the wilderness or something like that.
2) What is your dream car?
This looks like fun. I think I'd have to fight with Mr. F. for it, though.
3) Is pornography morally wrong?
Yes.
4)What is the best music video EVER????
For pure, Notebook-esque cryin' lovin' hurtin', check out Rascal Flatts,"What Hurts The Most" and for totally hilarious literal take on a classic mind-boggling video, check out "Total Eclipse of the Heart." and, last but not least, a haunting, eerie video that illustrates Live's "Lightning Crashes"
5)Do you carry a donor card? Why or why not?
Actually, I don't think I do... have no idea why.
6)What color do you prefer your pens to write in?
Black!
7)Are babies cute?
Of course they are, but I personally think that puppies are the cutest of all infant creation.
8)Do you subscribe to a magazine? Which one?
No. I would subscribe to National Geographic if I were to do that kind of thing, though. Or Popular Mechanics. (What? I read it for the articles.)
9)What was the last thing you used a microwave for?
I thawed out a brownie for the Kid. It was lunch. Saturday's rule.
10)What book are you reading?
Just finished reading "Pretties" before I let the Princess read it. Just wanted to be kinda in the know about what things we should discuss or maybe edit.
11)Cite a song lyric that means something to you.
Be my friend
Hold me, wrap me up
Unfold me
I am small
and needy
Warm me up
And breathe me
-- Sia, "Breathe Me"
12)Tell me a joke
What did the hot dog say when it won the race? "I'm the Wiener!!!"
13)Who should play James Bond?
Maybe rugged French-Canadian actor Roy Dupuis.
14)Write a Haiku Poem (3 lines, 5-7-5 syllables)
What is a haiku?
My brain doesn't work like that,
Paring down my words.
15)What's the oldest thing you own?
An antique silver and jade bracelet.
7.06.2009
Stuff.
Today was the Princess' 11th birthday. I had considered doing an all-Princess post today in honor of it, but my Parental Fairness Alert reminded me that I was unable to do the same for the Kid's birthday as we were out of town for it. Thusly... I probably shouldn't do for one what I didn't do for the other.
Oi, the guilt...
***********************
I will say, however, how blessed I am to have both my kiddos be such amazing lil treasures. Daily they surprise and bless me with their humor and uniqueness and perspective on life and the world.
***********************
Friday I decided that the Kid needed a haircut badly. He is famous for seemingly sprouting hair overnight, so that his hair looks passable -- even good -- until the morning he wakes up and it looks like a shaggy blond hedgehog has possessed his skull. Bolstered by the advice of a good friend and mother ("it's so easy..."), I decided to take matters into my own hands. The Kid was game, if only a little wary... and the clippers made their first slip through the hair by his left ear.
I don't know if he moved, or if I just plain old did it wrong but I could immediately tell it wasn't turning out so well. A tentative second attempt confirmed that I should probably just Put Down The Clippers and let the professionals finish things up.
I should mention at this point that the Kid has pretty much the full side quarter of his lil head buzzed, and this after he straight out told me he did not want a buzz-cut.
Good work, Mom.
Seriously? The hardest thing was holding back the giggles as I looked at his mangled hairline and trusting face while trying to make up some excuse (so as not to worry him -- the Kid is a teeny bit shy and prideful about his boyish appearance...) as to why Mommy was not going to finish and we were going to go see Bobbi-Jo The Hairstylist the next day.
Turns out Bobbi-Jo The Hairstylist had the weekend off and I had to phone over six salons before finding an opening somewhere. Thankfully, all was salvaged and the Kid is looking his usual dashing self. However, I was treated to a full day and a half of looking at that partial buzz-line and I can't tell you how entertaining that was.
***********************
Line Of The Day Award goes to the polite hairstylist who looked him over and inquired, "So... *pause. blink* ...What look were we going for here?" Bwaaha haa haaa ha!!!
***********************
My derby name has finally been approved, which thrills me to no end. No really... every time I think of it? Little chills. Sweet, little derby chills. It's probably the closest I'll ever get to having my name up in lights. I mean, the sensible part of my brain totally realizes that it's not even my Real Name and there are no lights involved at all, really, and it's actually not close to that at all if one really thinks about it. But, there's the other part of me that is truly excited and actually honored to see my derby name published amongst some of the greats... the all-stars... the NAMES, you know? So, go check it out, here, if you like. I'm about halfway down the list, swimming along with the deluge of other "Kitty"-type names.
***********************
Tomorrow morning I'm off to my parents' cabin for a few days and then to visit my in-laws at their cabin for the weekend. I know... lucky, lucky girl. :)
***********************
"Houston, we have grass."
Yep. Turf was delivered and conquered and is now being watered obsessively. And it looks soooooooo nice. After two years of looking at dirt and mud in the yard... and two DOG years of looking at it being tracked into my house; grass is looking much like Heaven should.
Forget the streets of gold. Bring me Fescue.
***********************
You know when there's just something about a song? Yeah. For some reason this one is makin me rock, lately. Horns up, Journey. Really. Really? Journey. Huh.
Song starts about 2 mins in.
Oi, the guilt...
***********************
I will say, however, how blessed I am to have both my kiddos be such amazing lil treasures. Daily they surprise and bless me with their humor and uniqueness and perspective on life and the world.
***********************
Friday I decided that the Kid needed a haircut badly. He is famous for seemingly sprouting hair overnight, so that his hair looks passable -- even good -- until the morning he wakes up and it looks like a shaggy blond hedgehog has possessed his skull. Bolstered by the advice of a good friend and mother ("it's so easy..."), I decided to take matters into my own hands. The Kid was game, if only a little wary... and the clippers made their first slip through the hair by his left ear.
I don't know if he moved, or if I just plain old did it wrong but I could immediately tell it wasn't turning out so well. A tentative second attempt confirmed that I should probably just Put Down The Clippers and let the professionals finish things up.
I should mention at this point that the Kid has pretty much the full side quarter of his lil head buzzed, and this after he straight out told me he did not want a buzz-cut.
Good work, Mom.
Seriously? The hardest thing was holding back the giggles as I looked at his mangled hairline and trusting face while trying to make up some excuse (so as not to worry him -- the Kid is a teeny bit shy and prideful about his boyish appearance...) as to why Mommy was not going to finish and we were going to go see Bobbi-Jo The Hairstylist the next day.
Turns out Bobbi-Jo The Hairstylist had the weekend off and I had to phone over six salons before finding an opening somewhere. Thankfully, all was salvaged and the Kid is looking his usual dashing self. However, I was treated to a full day and a half of looking at that partial buzz-line and I can't tell you how entertaining that was.
***********************
Line Of The Day Award goes to the polite hairstylist who looked him over and inquired, "So... *pause. blink* ...What look were we going for here?" Bwaaha haa haaa ha!!!
***********************
My derby name has finally been approved, which thrills me to no end. No really... every time I think of it? Little chills. Sweet, little derby chills. It's probably the closest I'll ever get to having my name up in lights. I mean, the sensible part of my brain totally realizes that it's not even my Real Name and there are no lights involved at all, really, and it's actually not close to that at all if one really thinks about it. But, there's the other part of me that is truly excited and actually honored to see my derby name published amongst some of the greats... the all-stars... the NAMES, you know? So, go check it out, here, if you like. I'm about halfway down the list, swimming along with the deluge of other "Kitty"-type names.
***********************
Tomorrow morning I'm off to my parents' cabin for a few days and then to visit my in-laws at their cabin for the weekend. I know... lucky, lucky girl. :)
***********************
"Houston, we have grass."
Yep. Turf was delivered and conquered and is now being watered obsessively. And it looks soooooooo nice. After two years of looking at dirt and mud in the yard... and two DOG years of looking at it being tracked into my house; grass is looking much like Heaven should.
Forget the streets of gold. Bring me Fescue.
***********************
You know when there's just something about a song? Yeah. For some reason this one is makin me rock, lately. Horns up, Journey. Really. Really? Journey. Huh.
Song starts about 2 mins in.
7.03.2009
Fond Memories of Sabbath-Past
Lately I find my mind tripping over remembrances of the many Friday nights spent observing and celebrating Shabbat in the last years.
As this year has run by at break-neck speed, I'm sad to say that our tradition has slipped by the wayside for the most part. I find myself more than a little bit homesick for some of those staid, peaceful moments and traditions that marked a space that I tried valiantly to set apart as an island of time in the week.
I was a Mom at home with my kiddos those years and often based my schedule for the week around preparing our home for sabbath. Monday - Wednesday were rather Normal days for the most part -- just doing the regular, daily stuff a house and children require. Thursday morning was different, though. After getting the Princess off on the bus, the little toddling Kid and I would crank up some music on the stereo (Travis Tritt if he got his way... silly Kid) and he would be my cleaning buddy. Well, he'd try for a while.
Some days it worked great and I cherish those memories of his chubby little hands rinsing dishes and setting them on the drainboard for me or following me with the duster in hand. He LOVED to vacuum (a love which has sadly diminished over time... *sigh*) and would come running when I started the old Filter Queen up, if only to turn it off so he could press the button again. And again, and again.
Other days it didn't work so well, but I've worked really, really hard and spent a lot of money in therapy to forget those ones. :D
It was a full day of cleaning and running laundry and changing linens and airing out the house and I loved sitting down in the evening after a shower with a Pepsi in hand and kids in bed. (Which is absolutely a secret of womanly contentment... a few hours where the house will not be destroyed as quickly as one tries to rescue it.)
Friday was a bit more laid back if I had done my job properly the day before. But this is Real Life and this is Flutterby we're talking about, so there was usually always a job or two from the previous day's To Do list that got pushed over.
I always tried to plan something a bit more special for supper that night, and usually made someone's favorite dessert (hats off to all you moms who make dessert every night -- I'm just not that committed). I was also attending a fellowship where potluck dinners were a weekly occurrence... (yummm!) but this also meant prepping a main course and either dessert or salad to bring the next morning. Add to that baking two loaves of fresh Challah bread -- a traditional egg bread that is likely the most awesome bread you will EVER, EVER have, I swear it -- Friday was pretty much dedicated to the grocery store and the kitchen and trying to keep the kids (well, mostly just THE KID) from tearing apart all my housework efforts from the day before.
And, if all went well, Mr. F came home from work to a table set with our best dishes and my Grandma's heirloom glass candlesticks, wineglasses and some relaxing music playing. The kids were bathed and I hopefully had managed to be somewhat presentable.
Traditional prayers were shared and the Princess' little voice added to mine in the Hebrew blessing over the lighting of the candles. Ancient blessings were spoken over the children and over both Mr. F. and I and we were reminded of the Sacred in a very powerful and poignant way as we marked the beginning of a day "set apart"; and there was evening and there was morning...
If all hadn't gone well... let's just say the picture was less than perfect and there may or may not have been quiet tears of desperation falling from my eyes during the prayers while the Kid hollered and banged his cutlery and the Princess whined about how hungry she was.
Equally as important a tradition was the apres-supper viewing of America's Funniest Home Videos after supper. I'd finish dishes as the beginning credits ran and the kids would hop around the living room, mimicking all the bad falls and spills from the show. To this day, I still totally heart that show.
************************
All these memories have been on my mind lately. I'm not sure if it's cause my babies are all grown up now, and how I sometimes long for those days of chubby fingers and moments spent reading stories on the couch with a little round head tucked under my chin. Or maybe cause I'm dissatisfied with my harried schedule this past year since starting work during the day, feeling that there's not enough time to tend to things like I'd like to. Or perhaps I'm missing that touch of the Sacred in my week. In the scope of all things, I'm not sure just how important it was/is to say those certain words at those certain times or observe certain traditions; but I know how they made me very conscious of a specific rhythm in life. A rhythm not determined by what I wanted to do or how I wanted to spend my time; but one determined by a particular understanding of how, perhaps, God wanted things ordered. And I can't help but think that that was a good thing.
A good thing that I kind of miss.
As this year has run by at break-neck speed, I'm sad to say that our tradition has slipped by the wayside for the most part. I find myself more than a little bit homesick for some of those staid, peaceful moments and traditions that marked a space that I tried valiantly to set apart as an island of time in the week.
I was a Mom at home with my kiddos those years and often based my schedule for the week around preparing our home for sabbath. Monday - Wednesday were rather Normal days for the most part -- just doing the regular, daily stuff a house and children require. Thursday morning was different, though. After getting the Princess off on the bus, the little toddling Kid and I would crank up some music on the stereo (Travis Tritt if he got his way... silly Kid) and he would be my cleaning buddy. Well, he'd try for a while.
Some days it worked great and I cherish those memories of his chubby little hands rinsing dishes and setting them on the drainboard for me or following me with the duster in hand. He LOVED to vacuum (a love which has sadly diminished over time... *sigh*) and would come running when I started the old Filter Queen up, if only to turn it off so he could press the button again. And again, and again.
Other days it didn't work so well, but I've worked really, really hard and spent a lot of money in therapy to forget those ones. :D
It was a full day of cleaning and running laundry and changing linens and airing out the house and I loved sitting down in the evening after a shower with a Pepsi in hand and kids in bed. (Which is absolutely a secret of womanly contentment... a few hours where the house will not be destroyed as quickly as one tries to rescue it.)
Friday was a bit more laid back if I had done my job properly the day before. But this is Real Life and this is Flutterby we're talking about, so there was usually always a job or two from the previous day's To Do list that got pushed over.
I always tried to plan something a bit more special for supper that night, and usually made someone's favorite dessert (hats off to all you moms who make dessert every night -- I'm just not that committed). I was also attending a fellowship where potluck dinners were a weekly occurrence... (yummm!) but this also meant prepping a main course and either dessert or salad to bring the next morning. Add to that baking two loaves of fresh Challah bread -- a traditional egg bread that is likely the most awesome bread you will EVER, EVER have, I swear it -- Friday was pretty much dedicated to the grocery store and the kitchen and trying to keep the kids (well, mostly just THE KID) from tearing apart all my housework efforts from the day before.
And, if all went well, Mr. F came home from work to a table set with our best dishes and my Grandma's heirloom glass candlesticks, wineglasses and some relaxing music playing. The kids were bathed and I hopefully had managed to be somewhat presentable.
Traditional prayers were shared and the Princess' little voice added to mine in the Hebrew blessing over the lighting of the candles. Ancient blessings were spoken over the children and over both Mr. F. and I and we were reminded of the Sacred in a very powerful and poignant way as we marked the beginning of a day "set apart"; and there was evening and there was morning...
If all hadn't gone well... let's just say the picture was less than perfect and there may or may not have been quiet tears of desperation falling from my eyes during the prayers while the Kid hollered and banged his cutlery and the Princess whined about how hungry she was.
Equally as important a tradition was the apres-supper viewing of America's Funniest Home Videos after supper. I'd finish dishes as the beginning credits ran and the kids would hop around the living room, mimicking all the bad falls and spills from the show. To this day, I still totally heart that show.
************************
All these memories have been on my mind lately. I'm not sure if it's cause my babies are all grown up now, and how I sometimes long for those days of chubby fingers and moments spent reading stories on the couch with a little round head tucked under my chin. Or maybe cause I'm dissatisfied with my harried schedule this past year since starting work during the day, feeling that there's not enough time to tend to things like I'd like to. Or perhaps I'm missing that touch of the Sacred in my week. In the scope of all things, I'm not sure just how important it was/is to say those certain words at those certain times or observe certain traditions; but I know how they made me very conscious of a specific rhythm in life. A rhythm not determined by what I wanted to do or how I wanted to spend my time; but one determined by a particular understanding of how, perhaps, God wanted things ordered. And I can't help but think that that was a good thing.
A good thing that I kind of miss.
7.01.2009
Just Some Of The Reasons...
I Love Canada (adapted from The Vancouver Sun)
The toque. For inventing hat hair, Canuck-style.
Tim Hortons. For brewing coffee that tastes as good as it smells. And for chocolate sour cream Timbits.
Pierre Elliott Trudeau. Because he could do handsprings, and drove a gull-wing Mercedes roadster. Because he made us think about what our country means to us.
Polar bears. Big, white, beautiful.
The anti-gun rack. In which our pickup trucks carry umbrellas, not automatic weapons.
McIntosh apple. That sweet crunch was brought to you by Ontario's Johnny (Appleseed) McIntosh, in 1796.
Wayne Gretzky. You don't have to be a hockey fan to call the pride of Brantford a great athlete, and one classy guy.
Salmon. Our iconic survivor.
Greenpeace. For raising global environmental consciousness, and for saving whales.
Perogies. Smothered with butter, fried onions and sour cream. Thank you, old country.
Snow. Because we can't control it. And can't stop talking about it.
The Maple Leaf. Our flag, bold and graphically spare, makes the heart swell.
Beer. There are just some things we do better.
In Flanders Fields. The heartrending poppy poem was penned in 1915 by Ontario surgeon John McCrae, on the battlefield of Ypres.
Red serge. Our cops, from the musical ride to that sexy uniform, are standouts.
Narwhal. Think about it. A unicorn. In the ocean. Awesome.
Prairie wheat. The staff of life. Picturesque cash crop. For miles and miles.
Maple syrup. Without which pancakes would just be a stack of fried flour.
Rideau Canal. Ice, skates, twinkle lights, hot chocolate. Norman Rockwell lives.
Anne of Green Gables. A multimillion-dollar industry, but still our pig-tailed P.E.I. scamp.
Robert Munsch. We love him, and his children's books, forever.
Bushes and boulders. Deserts, glaciers, sea shores, tropical forests, rivers, mountains, lakes, plains. Talk about having it all under one roof.
Manners. Some call us conservative. We call us polite.
Terry Fox. For still giving cancer a run for the money, 25 years on.
Water. We have it. Crisp, clean, cold. Lots of it.
32 Million. Because we could all move to California, and there'd still be room to roam.
Niagara Falls. Spectacular doesn't begin to describe them.
Poutine. French junk food. The real reason we put up with Quebec's familial hissy fits.
Sandra Schmirler. Pride of Saskatchewan, she'll always be our curling Queen of Hearts.
Kurt Browning. Magic on ice, part two.
Trivial Pursuit. In which two Canadian journalists turn question-asking into early retirement.
Leonard Cohen. For having a way with words, and lyrics. For Suzanne.
Michael J. Fox. Dignity in the face of debilitation.
Lynn Johnston. For turning an ordinary Canadian family, for better or for worse, into a world-famous cartoon.
William Shatner. Earth to Captain Kirk: you rock our world.
Eh. Say it loud. Say it proud.
Pysanka. Vegreville's giant roadside Ukrainian Easter egg, proof positive that we have a sense of humour.
Toronto Blue Jays. For putting world in the World Series.
The border. An 8,891-kilometre room divider.
Lake of the Woods. 14,542 islands, 65,000 miles of shoreline. Now that's cottage country.
Mike Holmes: For those biceps and for teaching us the meaning of home renovation caveat emptor.
The Friendly Giant. Before Bert and Ernie, there was Jerome and Rusty and that little chair to rock in.
Grizzly bear. Big, brown and beautiful.
Farley Mowat. The Dog Who Wouldn't Be. Never Cry Wolf. The Boat Who Wouldn't Float. A Whale For The Killing. 'Nuff said.
The Rockies. Because every country needs a backbone.
Bob and Doug McKenzie. For making hosers, and the Great White North, totally hip.
Steve Nash. Here's to the little guy who made it in the basketball bigs.
David Foster. The master musician and pop producer is there for our sick kids.
Winnipeg. Mosquitoes, wind, sub-zero winters and pancake horizon, yet 700,000 of us seem to like it.
Barenaked Ladies. If we had a million dollars, we'd send them a thank-you note just for being sassy.
Shania Twain. Country siren in a leopard coat.
Canadian brain: From plastic garbage bags to goalie masks, from basketball to the Jolly Jumper, we have given the world more than one million inventions.
Blue $5, purple $10. No monochromatic greenbacks for us. Our money is funny.
Sturgeon. That last of the living dinosaurs.
Four Seasons. From sea to shining sea, a lovely ever-changing national mood swing.
Democracy. One free vote. Priceless.
Beaver. Because, as a national symbol, the eagle is just so obvious.
Canadarm. Twenty-five years ago, on the space shuttle, we reached out and touched the world.
Moose. Improbable forest titan. With quite the rack.
Zed. Because we're alphabet purists, and Zee just won't do.
Highway signs. Green and white and read all over. Easily.
Donovan Bailey. 1996 Olympics. 100 metres. 9.84 seconds. Faster than wind.
Alanis Morissette. Her 30 million Jagged Little Pills proved there's no fury like a pop singer scorned.
Louis Riel. Because every nation needs a rebel with a cause.
Roberta Bondar. For going where no Canadian girl had gone before -- into space.
Jim Carrey. Mike Myers. Must be something in the water, because we breed the funniest comedians. Ever.
Canada. It's easy to spell. It means village. What's not to like?
******************
Happy Canada Day to all my Canuck readers. Now, off to the fireworks!
The toque. For inventing hat hair, Canuck-style.
Tim Hortons. For brewing coffee that tastes as good as it smells. And for chocolate sour cream Timbits.
Pierre Elliott Trudeau. Because he could do handsprings, and drove a gull-wing Mercedes roadster. Because he made us think about what our country means to us.
Polar bears. Big, white, beautiful.
The anti-gun rack. In which our pickup trucks carry umbrellas, not automatic weapons.
McIntosh apple. That sweet crunch was brought to you by Ontario's Johnny (Appleseed) McIntosh, in 1796.
Wayne Gretzky. You don't have to be a hockey fan to call the pride of Brantford a great athlete, and one classy guy.
Salmon. Our iconic survivor.
Greenpeace. For raising global environmental consciousness, and for saving whales.
Perogies. Smothered with butter, fried onions and sour cream. Thank you, old country.
Snow. Because we can't control it. And can't stop talking about it.
The Maple Leaf. Our flag, bold and graphically spare, makes the heart swell.
Beer. There are just some things we do better.
In Flanders Fields. The heartrending poppy poem was penned in 1915 by Ontario surgeon John McCrae, on the battlefield of Ypres.
Red serge. Our cops, from the musical ride to that sexy uniform, are standouts.
Narwhal. Think about it. A unicorn. In the ocean. Awesome.
Prairie wheat. The staff of life. Picturesque cash crop. For miles and miles.
Maple syrup. Without which pancakes would just be a stack of fried flour.
Rideau Canal. Ice, skates, twinkle lights, hot chocolate. Norman Rockwell lives.
Anne of Green Gables. A multimillion-dollar industry, but still our pig-tailed P.E.I. scamp.
Robert Munsch. We love him, and his children's books, forever.
Bushes and boulders. Deserts, glaciers, sea shores, tropical forests, rivers, mountains, lakes, plains. Talk about having it all under one roof.
Manners. Some call us conservative. We call us polite.
Terry Fox. For still giving cancer a run for the money, 25 years on.
Water. We have it. Crisp, clean, cold. Lots of it.
32 Million. Because we could all move to California, and there'd still be room to roam.
Niagara Falls. Spectacular doesn't begin to describe them.
Poutine. French junk food. The real reason we put up with Quebec's familial hissy fits.
Sandra Schmirler. Pride of Saskatchewan, she'll always be our curling Queen of Hearts.
Kurt Browning. Magic on ice, part two.
Trivial Pursuit. In which two Canadian journalists turn question-asking into early retirement.
Leonard Cohen. For having a way with words, and lyrics. For Suzanne.
Michael J. Fox. Dignity in the face of debilitation.
Lynn Johnston. For turning an ordinary Canadian family, for better or for worse, into a world-famous cartoon.
William Shatner. Earth to Captain Kirk: you rock our world.
Eh. Say it loud. Say it proud.
Pysanka. Vegreville's giant roadside Ukrainian Easter egg, proof positive that we have a sense of humour.
Toronto Blue Jays. For putting world in the World Series.
The border. An 8,891-kilometre room divider.
Lake of the Woods. 14,542 islands, 65,000 miles of shoreline. Now that's cottage country.
Mike Holmes: For those biceps and for teaching us the meaning of home renovation caveat emptor.
The Friendly Giant. Before Bert and Ernie, there was Jerome and Rusty and that little chair to rock in.
Grizzly bear. Big, brown and beautiful.
Farley Mowat. The Dog Who Wouldn't Be. Never Cry Wolf. The Boat Who Wouldn't Float. A Whale For The Killing. 'Nuff said.
The Rockies. Because every country needs a backbone.
Bob and Doug McKenzie. For making hosers, and the Great White North, totally hip.
Steve Nash. Here's to the little guy who made it in the basketball bigs.
David Foster. The master musician and pop producer is there for our sick kids.
Winnipeg. Mosquitoes, wind, sub-zero winters and pancake horizon, yet 700,000 of us seem to like it.
Barenaked Ladies. If we had a million dollars, we'd send them a thank-you note just for being sassy.
Shania Twain. Country siren in a leopard coat.
Canadian brain: From plastic garbage bags to goalie masks, from basketball to the Jolly Jumper, we have given the world more than one million inventions.
Blue $5, purple $10. No monochromatic greenbacks for us. Our money is funny.
Sturgeon. That last of the living dinosaurs.
Four Seasons. From sea to shining sea, a lovely ever-changing national mood swing.
Democracy. One free vote. Priceless.
Beaver. Because, as a national symbol, the eagle is just so obvious.
Canadarm. Twenty-five years ago, on the space shuttle, we reached out and touched the world.
Moose. Improbable forest titan. With quite the rack.
Zed. Because we're alphabet purists, and Zee just won't do.
Highway signs. Green and white and read all over. Easily.
Donovan Bailey. 1996 Olympics. 100 metres. 9.84 seconds. Faster than wind.
Alanis Morissette. Her 30 million Jagged Little Pills proved there's no fury like a pop singer scorned.
Louis Riel. Because every nation needs a rebel with a cause.
Roberta Bondar. For going where no Canadian girl had gone before -- into space.
Jim Carrey. Mike Myers. Must be something in the water, because we breed the funniest comedians. Ever.
Canada. It's easy to spell. It means village. What's not to like?
******************
Happy Canada Day to all my Canuck readers. Now, off to the fireworks!
6.26.2009
R.I.P. Hammy
It is with great sadness I report the sudden passing of Snuggles, the Flutterhouse hamster. His time with us was short but memorable and we are shaken by the events of yesterday morning.
There were no signs to preclude his demise, just the discovery of his cold, stiff furry rodent body at the bottom of his cage yesterday morning.
*********************************
Honestly, I am pretty rocked by this... it really bothered me to see our hammy's obviously dead body when he was so, well, Normal just the night before. The grommets were pretty upset and distraught. We spent the day planning the funeral and choosing the "plot" to bury our little rodent friend. He was laid to rest in an Oil of Olay Facial Cleansing Cloth box which (mostly) fit him and atop his grave sits a little white cross with his name on it. There were speeches and even a song (Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah"... compliments of the Princess); all in all, a farewell befitting the sweet little guy that he was.
He loved climbing over me and the Princess when we watched TV and especially enjoyed the little veggie tidbits he'd get every day. He was constantly adjusting his habitat, moving fluff and litter from one area to the other and had finally started using the dedicated "poop den" like a smart little hammy.
I don't have very many pics of our hammy, I was actually thinking just a few days ago that I should try and take some ones that aren't blurry. I guess that won't happen now.
This is what a curious hammy looks like when someone sticks a camera in his face.
Goodbye little Hammy, you will be missed.
There were no signs to preclude his demise, just the discovery of his cold, stiff furry rodent body at the bottom of his cage yesterday morning.
*********************************
Honestly, I am pretty rocked by this... it really bothered me to see our hammy's obviously dead body when he was so, well, Normal just the night before. The grommets were pretty upset and distraught. We spent the day planning the funeral and choosing the "plot" to bury our little rodent friend. He was laid to rest in an Oil of Olay Facial Cleansing Cloth box which (mostly) fit him and atop his grave sits a little white cross with his name on it. There were speeches and even a song (Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah"... compliments of the Princess); all in all, a farewell befitting the sweet little guy that he was.
He loved climbing over me and the Princess when we watched TV and especially enjoyed the little veggie tidbits he'd get every day. He was constantly adjusting his habitat, moving fluff and litter from one area to the other and had finally started using the dedicated "poop den" like a smart little hammy.
I don't have very many pics of our hammy, I was actually thinking just a few days ago that I should try and take some ones that aren't blurry. I guess that won't happen now.
This is what a curious hammy looks like when someone sticks a camera in his face.
Goodbye little Hammy, you will be missed.
6.24.2009
Classic.
Sorry for the two song posts in a row. But there's just nothing more appropriate than a little Alice Cooper at this particular juncture.
Party on, good people.
Party on, good people.
6.15.2009
SUMMATIME!!!
Spent the day at work outside, enjoying the 30 degree heat, the sun on my skin and the humid air. So glad that SUMMER finally decided to appear. YEAH!!!!
Now just for some time off to enjoy it in.
Oh, wait... I GOT THAT TOO!!!
Can you see my grin from There?? Thought so.
6.13.2009
Awesome To The Power of Sick.
Our derby league played a short scrimmage last night. It was just part of a steak night fundraiser our league was putting on; we broke into two bare-bones teams (one line and one extra jammer each -- we need more girls... send us MORE GIRLS!!) and played 30 minutes of the funnest, wildest game I've ever been a part of. The crowd LOVED us and had a great time and no question... I had a great time, too.
Some highlights:
- Wow. How nice to just be plain old Excited for a game and not feeling like barfing or peeing like before our last bout.
- Our team pulled together an awesome, showy bout production in seriously Record time. Great announcer, terrific music and sound system, lights, scoreboard... the whole nine yards.
- Playing every jam -- priceless experience.
- Facing down some of the big hitters and holding ground. Suh-weet!! And... taking some the hard way and kissing the floor.
- Getting my biggest derby rink rash to date. Six inches of angry red scab centered in a lovely dark purple bruise on my left thigh, compliments of Anna Filactic and the track boundary rope. (it's taped to the floor along the edge of the track. I neatly baseball-slid over top.)
- Having Mr. F. there to be a part of the ref team. He called all three of my minors. *grrrrr*
- Having Mr. F have fun being a part of the ref team! Yay! Derby is now not just My Thing.
- Jamming a full two minute jam against one of our team's accomplished jammers and going point for point with her.
- Hearing people cheering "GO Kitty!" during said jam. Very cool, rockstar moment. Fun.
- Hearing the crowd love the hits, the spills and the showboating. It was fun to Perform and feel that kind of energy directed at the game.
- Steak is totally THE BEST FOOD EVER CREATED TO EAT AFTER A DERBY BOUT. Nuff said.
- Ice cold beer is a close second.
- Loving my derby sistas. No matter how different we all are, they are some pretty rank, fun and caring girls and I'm glad to know each one.
- Waking up and feeling like a Mack Truck hit me the night before. Bruises on both legs, one butt cheek, hipbone and both arms. Knowing that someone else is feeling it that morning, too and it's because I did my job.
Some highlights:
- Wow. How nice to just be plain old Excited for a game and not feeling like barfing or peeing like before our last bout.
- Our team pulled together an awesome, showy bout production in seriously Record time. Great announcer, terrific music and sound system, lights, scoreboard... the whole nine yards.
- Playing every jam -- priceless experience.
- Facing down some of the big hitters and holding ground. Suh-weet!! And... taking some the hard way and kissing the floor.
- Getting my biggest derby rink rash to date. Six inches of angry red scab centered in a lovely dark purple bruise on my left thigh, compliments of Anna Filactic and the track boundary rope. (it's taped to the floor along the edge of the track. I neatly baseball-slid over top.)
- Having Mr. F. there to be a part of the ref team. He called all three of my minors. *grrrrr*
- Having Mr. F have fun being a part of the ref team! Yay! Derby is now not just My Thing.
- Jamming a full two minute jam against one of our team's accomplished jammers and going point for point with her.
- Hearing people cheering "GO Kitty!" during said jam. Very cool, rockstar moment. Fun.
- Hearing the crowd love the hits, the spills and the showboating. It was fun to Perform and feel that kind of energy directed at the game.
- Steak is totally THE BEST FOOD EVER CREATED TO EAT AFTER A DERBY BOUT. Nuff said.
- Ice cold beer is a close second.
- Loving my derby sistas. No matter how different we all are, they are some pretty rank, fun and caring girls and I'm glad to know each one.
- Waking up and feeling like a Mack Truck hit me the night before. Bruises on both legs, one butt cheek, hipbone and both arms. Knowing that someone else is feeling it that morning, too and it's because I did my job.
Life... is good.
Really don't have much more to say than that. Been feeling very blessed and lucky lately and enjoying this ride. I feel Well... Content... Whole.
And that is something I will never take for granted.
And that is something I will never take for granted.
6.06.2009
Where Does She Come From?
Scene: The Princess is reading Tuck Everlasting to me. We are in the middle of the book, thoroughly caught up in suspense and fascinated with the idea of immortality.
Princess: So, Mom... what would you do if you could drink that water and live forever?
Me: I really don't know, Princess. It would be pretty tempting I guess, but I don't think it would be something I could decide right away. I'd need to think on it.
Princess: Yeah, I don't think I would know what to do either. *thoughtful pause* I think I'd probably have to draw a Venn Diagram...
*******************
Sometimes she blows my mind with this stuff. I really don't think I even knew what a Venn Diagram was until I was much older. (errr... possibly even well into adulthood. Not that I hadn't seen them... just didn't know that they had a name and purpose.)
I love my Princess.
Princess: So, Mom... what would you do if you could drink that water and live forever?
Me: I really don't know, Princess. It would be pretty tempting I guess, but I don't think it would be something I could decide right away. I'd need to think on it.
Princess: Yeah, I don't think I would know what to do either. *thoughtful pause* I think I'd probably have to draw a Venn Diagram...
*******************
Sometimes she blows my mind with this stuff. I really don't think I even knew what a Venn Diagram was until I was much older. (errr... possibly even well into adulthood. Not that I hadn't seen them... just didn't know that they had a name and purpose.)
I love my Princess.
6.01.2009
What's For Dinner?
Ummm... do I smell roasted derby girl? Yes... apparently our sweet lil behinds were on the bout menu -- we were neatly slaughtered and served for dinner last Saturday night -- it was an upset of grand proportions.
Final Score? 174 - 78
We lost by 100 points to the other team.
Sucks to be US.
There were some issues with the reffing that were regrettable and a few other things that could have made the score more respectable and the game less frustrating. Regardless, we would have lost. They are a more experienced team and have been skating longer and frankly, the played Better than we did. I have no problem giving them that.
I will, however, say that our half-time locker room was something straight out of Reality TV. Our tailgunner was barfing in the stall, an EMT was tending to a downed and semi-conscious player (heat stroke) and about half the girls were laying on the cold concrete floor cause it was so crazy hot and stuffy in the venue.
We came back with a much stronger second half and I think we won the respect of the crowd, despite being thoroughly pounded. During one of our MANY penalty calls (the reffing was questionable at times...) someone from the crowd yelled, "It's not a penalty to be from (Fluttercity)!!!" Thank you Random Fan.
It was a great and humbling learning experience and I think our team will be better for it. I, for one, loved every minute. It was by far the single most Rockstar thing I have ever done in my life and I can't wait to get back on the track and do it again. Hopefully do it better, though.
One of my favorite pics from after the bout. I'm sweaty and stinky and all kinds of rank, bad-ass derby girl.
Getting up close and personal with the floor -- one of many times that night.
Gave chase to their jammer, couldn't get a solid hit and had to pull back after 20 ft. hence the wide, snowplow stance.
Team photo. Hijacked from facebook... sorry so small.
Final Score? 174 - 78
We lost by 100 points to the other team.
Sucks to be US.
There were some issues with the reffing that were regrettable and a few other things that could have made the score more respectable and the game less frustrating. Regardless, we would have lost. They are a more experienced team and have been skating longer and frankly, the played Better than we did. I have no problem giving them that.
I will, however, say that our half-time locker room was something straight out of Reality TV. Our tailgunner was barfing in the stall, an EMT was tending to a downed and semi-conscious player (heat stroke) and about half the girls were laying on the cold concrete floor cause it was so crazy hot and stuffy in the venue.
We came back with a much stronger second half and I think we won the respect of the crowd, despite being thoroughly pounded. During one of our MANY penalty calls (the reffing was questionable at times...) someone from the crowd yelled, "It's not a penalty to be from (Fluttercity)!!!" Thank you Random Fan.
It was a great and humbling learning experience and I think our team will be better for it. I, for one, loved every minute. It was by far the single most Rockstar thing I have ever done in my life and I can't wait to get back on the track and do it again. Hopefully do it better, though.
One of my favorite pics from after the bout. I'm sweaty and stinky and all kinds of rank, bad-ass derby girl. 
Getting up close and personal with the floor -- one of many times that night.
Gave chase to their jammer, couldn't get a solid hit and had to pull back after 20 ft. hence the wide, snowplow stance.
Team photo. Hijacked from facebook... sorry so small.
5.28.2009
Paid In Full.
Mother Nature did me a solid this week.
See, it wasn't all that long ago that I totally had her back. Pretty much no one was talking to her anymore, but I kinda hung in there... tried to help her along.
I wasn't really expecting anything in return, it was enough to know that I helped out a mythical figure in need. You know what I mean, doncha? Doncha??
So, imagine how surprised I was to encounter my great big cosmic ThankYou this week. It would be easy to chalk this up to chance, to some sort of fluke occurence... except this kind of thing never happens to me like this. See, for me? the whole "curse of being a woman" thing is really pretty much a curse. Not that I'm worse off than any other girl on the planet, just that I can pretty much count on it messing up every big event and thing I have planned. History kinda bears that whole thing out. First night staying over at boyfriend's place? Sports events? Large banquet type things where outfits must fit right? Outdoor Wilderness trips? Grad night? My Wedding Night? Oh yes... Mother Nature generally tries to eff things up for me on a grand and bloody scale. (Ugghh... I totally just said that, didn't I?? Sorry.)
In light of all this (not so) wonderful history, I honestly was not surprised to look at the calendar this month and see that the Crime Scene was scheduled for THE DAY OF MY FIRST DERBY BOUT. Not surprised in the least.
What was surprising was Tuesday.
High five Mother Nature. I hope this means we'll be working together from now on, cause it's been kinda sucky being on the opposite team.
See, it wasn't all that long ago that I totally had her back. Pretty much no one was talking to her anymore, but I kinda hung in there... tried to help her along.
I wasn't really expecting anything in return, it was enough to know that I helped out a mythical figure in need. You know what I mean, doncha? Doncha??
So, imagine how surprised I was to encounter my great big cosmic ThankYou this week. It would be easy to chalk this up to chance, to some sort of fluke occurence... except this kind of thing never happens to me like this. See, for me? the whole "curse of being a woman" thing is really pretty much a curse. Not that I'm worse off than any other girl on the planet, just that I can pretty much count on it messing up every big event and thing I have planned. History kinda bears that whole thing out. First night staying over at boyfriend's place? Sports events? Large banquet type things where outfits must fit right? Outdoor Wilderness trips? Grad night? My Wedding Night? Oh yes... Mother Nature generally tries to eff things up for me on a grand and bloody scale. (Ugghh... I totally just said that, didn't I?? Sorry.)
In light of all this (not so) wonderful history, I honestly was not surprised to look at the calendar this month and see that the Crime Scene was scheduled for THE DAY OF MY FIRST DERBY BOUT. Not surprised in the least.
What was surprising was Tuesday.
High five Mother Nature. I hope this means we'll be working together from now on, cause it's been kinda sucky being on the opposite team.
5.25.2009
Flip the Switch.
Derby girls are known for creating personas for themselves. We leave our mild-mannered identities at home and costume up in garish/sexy/subversive/punk gear. We assume a new name and identity in derby; become someone else for the purpose of performance and fun. Someone who is Bigger, Louder, Wilder, Meaner. She is our alter-ego; the "super" to our "hero".
She is the person the crowds cheer for and other players fear. And for most of us, she is the reason we keep coming back, hour after grueling hour of practice, hit after hit. Cause SHE loves derby. She IS derby.
With that, I'm pleased to introduce to my blog friends the chica that helps me flip the switch and become a derby girl.
Kitty Killswitch #266
Position: Pivot/Blocker
Bio: Born on the hood of a 390 GT Mustang, Kitty lives life as she entered it; kicking and screaming. Her love of fast cars and faster living was legendary in the small town she grew up in, where pedal to the metal was a way of life and the badges knew her by name. Tragedy struck early in life when her infamous Railway Overpass Stunt went horribly wrong and changed Kitty's life forever. Airlifted to Megacity's Military Hospital, it took over 30 surgeries and a dedicated team of crack Biosoft surgeons to bring her shattered body back to life. State of the art bionics and a cerebral-digital interface were intended to make her the ultimate soldier; but an unexpected bioware glitch marked her as defective. She spends her days skulking around the shadows of society and her nights burning up the track. Technology resurrected her body, but speed keeps her alive.
Favorite Saying: A sucking chest wound is nature's way of telling you to slow down.
******************
Only FIVE MORE SLEEPS til the bout. Hoo-ah!
She is the person the crowds cheer for and other players fear. And for most of us, she is the reason we keep coming back, hour after grueling hour of practice, hit after hit. Cause SHE loves derby. She IS derby.
With that, I'm pleased to introduce to my blog friends the chica that helps me flip the switch and become a derby girl.
Kitty Killswitch #266
Position: Pivot/Blocker
Bio: Born on the hood of a 390 GT Mustang, Kitty lives life as she entered it; kicking and screaming. Her love of fast cars and faster living was legendary in the small town she grew up in, where pedal to the metal was a way of life and the badges knew her by name. Tragedy struck early in life when her infamous Railway Overpass Stunt went horribly wrong and changed Kitty's life forever. Airlifted to Megacity's Military Hospital, it took over 30 surgeries and a dedicated team of crack Biosoft surgeons to bring her shattered body back to life. State of the art bionics and a cerebral-digital interface were intended to make her the ultimate soldier; but an unexpected bioware glitch marked her as defective. She spends her days skulking around the shadows of society and her nights burning up the track. Technology resurrected her body, but speed keeps her alive.
Favorite Saying: A sucking chest wound is nature's way of telling you to slow down.
******************
Only FIVE MORE SLEEPS til the bout. Hoo-ah!
5.20.2009
Hurts So Good.
I finished my first full CrossFit workout tonight.
I knew I was in for a crazy hurt when our "warmup" was a workout. Start with 3 rounds of Cindy.
See, CrossFit names their workouts like we name hurricanes. I guess cause they hit you like a storm, or something. Cindy consists of 5 pull-ups, 10 push-ups and 15 squats. She's a mini-hurricane, but enough to get the blood flowing and wondering what the real thing will be like.
Our coach further entertained herself by making us do 2 rounds of side-side jumps and something called "quick hands" which is sorta like a pushup, but isolating the work to each side of your body at a time, so much harder and not something I would look forward to doing again. I'm sure we'll be doing it again, though.
Then... on to the real Work.
5 rounds (for time, which means you gotta find your Hustle)
20 Kettlebell Swings (25 lbs)
10 Box Jumps (24" height)
10 Push Press (45 lbs)
I loved it and I hated it.
I was the only one of our group that actually did the box jumps. Everyone else modified to step-ups on shorter boxes. And I am proud of myself for that. Not only did it make the workout hugely more difficult but it was a total Head Thing for me that I overcame. I've always felt that I was a bit "vertically challenged", so to speak. And attempting and MISSING a box jump? Is an immediate ticket to Bloodied, Messed Up Shin World. So yeah, it was a big deal for me to clear that box for all five rounds. And the Push Press is just one of those things that feels so super hardcore when you do it, so that was pretty cool, too. I mean, you have to love it when your workout makes you feel like a powerlifter. Even when you're clearly not one.
p.s. This was my 100th post on this second incarnation of my lil blog. I really couldn't come up with anything better... sad, I know.
I knew I was in for a crazy hurt when our "warmup" was a workout. Start with 3 rounds of Cindy.
See, CrossFit names their workouts like we name hurricanes. I guess cause they hit you like a storm, or something. Cindy consists of 5 pull-ups, 10 push-ups and 15 squats. She's a mini-hurricane, but enough to get the blood flowing and wondering what the real thing will be like.
Our coach further entertained herself by making us do 2 rounds of side-side jumps and something called "quick hands" which is sorta like a pushup, but isolating the work to each side of your body at a time, so much harder and not something I would look forward to doing again. I'm sure we'll be doing it again, though.
Then... on to the real Work.
5 rounds (for time, which means you gotta find your Hustle)
20 Kettlebell Swings (25 lbs)
10 Box Jumps (24" height)
10 Push Press (45 lbs)
I loved it and I hated it.
I was the only one of our group that actually did the box jumps. Everyone else modified to step-ups on shorter boxes. And I am proud of myself for that. Not only did it make the workout hugely more difficult but it was a total Head Thing for me that I overcame. I've always felt that I was a bit "vertically challenged", so to speak. And attempting and MISSING a box jump? Is an immediate ticket to Bloodied, Messed Up Shin World. So yeah, it was a big deal for me to clear that box for all five rounds. And the Push Press is just one of those things that feels so super hardcore when you do it, so that was pretty cool, too. I mean, you have to love it when your workout makes you feel like a powerlifter. Even when you're clearly not one.
p.s. This was my 100th post on this second incarnation of my lil blog. I really couldn't come up with anything better... sad, I know.
5.15.2009
Fifteen.
Fifteen days until my first roller derby bout.
I have butterflies already.
They're sitting on top of some pretty sore Crossfittin muscles and a wrecked up C3 vertabrae that I need to get chased back into place real freakin soon.
*******************************
Crossfit. Loving it. Completed two Foundations classes this week and they totally blew my mind. Worked on some Olympic lifts which has been a long time goal of mine and generally felt pain in every part of my body. Thankfully, I get along with pain just fine and come back for more. Crossfit's mascot is Pukey the Clown. I have a feeling I may just meet him, yet, despite my cautious pre-workout meals.
Some highlights:
* Getting rid of a persistent "butt wink" at the bottom of my Squat. I could always Feel it, but never knew what to do to get rid of it.
* OLifting! Squats, Front Squats, Overhead Squats, Deadlifts, Sumo-Deadlift Highpulls, Push Press, Push Jerk, Thrusters. All surprisingly technical and so very effective.
* ZooWalking. Sweet zombies! Bear, duck, frog, crab, chicken... the list kept going and going and we kept going and going... length after length of contorting, balanced movements that seemed simple but brought the pain.
* Pull-Ups. New goal: to do these badboys unassisted.
* Turkish Get-Ups. Like lyrical dance with a 30 lb iron kettlebell lifted overhead. Full body workout in one movement.
* Kettlebell swings. Hell for the glutes and way too much fun.
*******************************
Finally decided to see a chiropractor today about this neck issue. Took a crazy hit a couple weeks ago in a scrimmage and when I hit the ground I felt pretty much every bone in my spine crunch, ending with that icky little tippy top place under my skull. It was bothering me, some days more than others, and my usual "wait and see" game seemed to be the best bet. Sometimes my body just flicks things back where they should be. Or else... it totally doesn't and I end up locked up like Alcatraz. We got jail time this go around.
My regular chiro couldn't see me, so I went to see Mr. F's chiro and was pretty impressed. He totally did an electrical assessment and reading of impulse activity and range of motion and diagnosed some long-term strains and issues in my SI joint. And then he worked on all the crunchy bits in my neck and actually got somewhere with them. I'm currently icing and heating and feeling a lot better than I did this morning. Follow up on Wednesday and then I'm hopefully good until the bout.
*******************************
So yeah, fifteen days. Just five more practices and about as many workouts planned. We may get our butts kicked in the worst way at the bout, but it won't be for lack of trying!
Open Letter to Mother Nature.
Seriously Mother Nature? Can we not be less Original with the weather, lately? I mean, we've kinda set -- I don't know -- a precedent or something over the past millenia and us creatures of the earth have come to appreciate and expect a certain cycle, so to speak. Generally... spring follows winter, which is then followed by summer. Remember that little rhythm? See, so do we. So, when you start getting all Creative and splishing and splashing Random Days of Snow into what should be WELL into Spring-like weather? The people round here get all jumped up and, Mother Nature?... I'm not sure the collective spirit of humanity round these parts is really feeling the love for you right now. In fact, you may have a mutiny on your hands.
I get that sometimes it's fun to F around with the big thermostat in the sky... I imagine I might be tempted to do the same, were I ancient and allpowerful and mystical like yourself. But I'd like to think I'd have the good sense to call that junk off when the humor of the situation has done run it's course. And, just so you know? So done.
So, if you don't mind, I'd be happy to recommend a few weather options to get us back on track. Just a starting point, mind you. But something you may find useful to have in your back pocket for those days when you're having some kind of cosmic hot flash and are considering turning on the fan and dumping ice on the whole joint.
1) More sun. This is really the backbone of a good spring routine and should be the foundation and starting point of each day you plan, really. Trust me.
2) Less wind. Please, for the love of all that's good and holy and true... much less wind.
3) Rain. Just some ground rules about rain. It is needed. Agreed on that point. But, try to throw it in along with the sun and less wind. (please kindly refer to points #1 and #2) People will be much, much happier, I promise.
4) Seasonably warm temperatures. Try revving the engine a bit and bring things up at least 10 - 15 degrees. We're a bit behind on that aforementioned cycle of things, here. You need to kickstart that puppy a good one.
5) No snow. Absolutely, completely, without any shadow of doubt or question... NO FRAKKING SNOW. We should be beyond that crap, OK? Simple rule. Learn it. Love it. Live it.
There. I think that should get you well on your way. Simple things, these... but I realize that everyone needs a little push in the right direction from time to time. Just glad I could be around to help out a friend. Cause we are friends, Mother Nature, aren't we? I think I may just be the only one around here still talking to you.
I get that sometimes it's fun to F around with the big thermostat in the sky... I imagine I might be tempted to do the same, were I ancient and allpowerful and mystical like yourself. But I'd like to think I'd have the good sense to call that junk off when the humor of the situation has done run it's course. And, just so you know? So done.
So, if you don't mind, I'd be happy to recommend a few weather options to get us back on track. Just a starting point, mind you. But something you may find useful to have in your back pocket for those days when you're having some kind of cosmic hot flash and are considering turning on the fan and dumping ice on the whole joint.
1) More sun. This is really the backbone of a good spring routine and should be the foundation and starting point of each day you plan, really. Trust me.
2) Less wind. Please, for the love of all that's good and holy and true... much less wind.
3) Rain. Just some ground rules about rain. It is needed. Agreed on that point. But, try to throw it in along with the sun and less wind. (please kindly refer to points #1 and #2) People will be much, much happier, I promise.
4) Seasonably warm temperatures. Try revving the engine a bit and bring things up at least 10 - 15 degrees. We're a bit behind on that aforementioned cycle of things, here. You need to kickstart that puppy a good one.
5) No snow. Absolutely, completely, without any shadow of doubt or question... NO FRAKKING SNOW. We should be beyond that crap, OK? Simple rule. Learn it. Love it. Live it.
There. I think that should get you well on your way. Simple things, these... but I realize that everyone needs a little push in the right direction from time to time. Just glad I could be around to help out a friend. Cause we are friends, Mother Nature, aren't we? I think I may just be the only one around here still talking to you.
5.10.2009
Counted.
For all the sweet, tender hugs given by the Kid every night and the way he still calls me "Mommy" when sayin goodnight when he's tired of trying to be the big boy.
For collapsing on each other in giggles over some shared funny moment, always ending in a mother-daughter high five cause we're awesome like that.
For the way he brought his baby blanket to me last week when I was not feeling well and gently tucked it in around my shoulders.
For the evenings spent listening to her voice read to me, sometimes looking up at me to wonder about the pronunciation of a word. Her voice clear and expressive. For the emotion that quavers her throat during the touching stories and how she finds the heart of each character.
For the way he still throws up an "I Love You" sign with his hand whenever we say goodbye and waits to see my hand do the same before he blows me a kiss that I hold tight to my heart, wondering when this, too, will be a relic of childhood lost to growing pride.
For her love of music and lyric and movement. For the beautiful singing voice she finally has decided to share with us, growing more in her own confidence and sense of self.
For the way he finds the funny in me, is the Foil, the Straightman. How he delights in making people laugh.
For the pride that swells my heart seeing her grow as a little horsewoman, a true natural with grace and an easy capability that awes me to see. She is fearless and sensible all at once and absolutely in love with those giant animals.
For how he only knows how to go full speed. Hairpin turnin' - on fire - big air and loud. Somehow he always lands on his feet with a smile on his face.
For her zany characterizations that leave me in stitches, her impeccable sense of comedic timing and showmanship.
********************************
Today I am thankful to be a mother. A mother to two terrific, sweet and seriously supercool kiddos that challenge me, make me smile, fill my heart with love and joy.
I am a lucky, lucky girl.
For collapsing on each other in giggles over some shared funny moment, always ending in a mother-daughter high five cause we're awesome like that.
For the way he brought his baby blanket to me last week when I was not feeling well and gently tucked it in around my shoulders.
For the evenings spent listening to her voice read to me, sometimes looking up at me to wonder about the pronunciation of a word. Her voice clear and expressive. For the emotion that quavers her throat during the touching stories and how she finds the heart of each character.
For the way he still throws up an "I Love You" sign with his hand whenever we say goodbye and waits to see my hand do the same before he blows me a kiss that I hold tight to my heart, wondering when this, too, will be a relic of childhood lost to growing pride.
For her love of music and lyric and movement. For the beautiful singing voice she finally has decided to share with us, growing more in her own confidence and sense of self.
For the way he finds the funny in me, is the Foil, the Straightman. How he delights in making people laugh.
For the pride that swells my heart seeing her grow as a little horsewoman, a true natural with grace and an easy capability that awes me to see. She is fearless and sensible all at once and absolutely in love with those giant animals.
For how he only knows how to go full speed. Hairpin turnin' - on fire - big air and loud. Somehow he always lands on his feet with a smile on his face.
For her zany characterizations that leave me in stitches, her impeccable sense of comedic timing and showmanship.
********************************
Today I am thankful to be a mother. A mother to two terrific, sweet and seriously supercool kiddos that challenge me, make me smile, fill my heart with love and joy.
I am a lucky, lucky girl.
5.05.2009
DerbyDerbyDerbyDerbyDerby...
-- Did my first time trial last night. Five laps in 55 seconds. Which comes in neatly under the regulation WFTDA time of one minute. I could gripe about the dusty floor (it was) and my dirty wheels (they were). Bottom line is that I was happy to make the cut time but hope to do better next time.
-- It is official! The Bone City Rollers are bouting in 25 more sleeps! ACK!! I have exactly 10 more practices to make a derby player of myself. Holy crap. We are scrimmaging every practice and I am hurting in all sorts of places. I currently have a heat pack on my shoulder and could really use a good back massage and cracking. I have an assortment of ass-bruises and a deep purple welt in the shape of a skate wheel on the back of my calf. My collarbone got slammed by someone's wristguard last night and it's also a lovely shade of Bruise. My leg muscles have not gotten a break in weeks and I think I might have a case of derby leg. (That would be when your right leg muscles become more developed than your left leg from constantly skating counter-clockwise) Must add some extra training for my left leg... poor thing. Oh, and our coach is adding some killer off-track training these last weeks before the bout.
-- Our annual General Meeting is this weekend and I'm running for a position. I'd like to say that I'm not sure if I'll get it, but currently, my name is the only one posted for voting. So, yeah... I might be the new Inter-League rep. Which I just found out last night means that I would be representing our league at the National RollerCon in Las Vegas. Can you say SUH-weet? Totally.
-- My lingerie drawer is loving derby. My pocketbook not so much. Thankfully, Mr. F. is happy enough to foot the bill for fishnets and thigh-highs and ruffle panties. :D I guess if I'm gonna pick an expensive sport to play, it might as well appeal to the baser instincts of the Husband.
-- I love that these past weeks, I've not felt like Fresh Meat anymore. I'm taking hits, I've landed some solid ones, too. I'm booty blocking and anticipating the plays. I've even jammed in some scrimmages and surprised myself against some more seasoned jammers and better skaters. The game is starting to make sense in my head and my skates are starting to feel like a part of me. Sure, I still have off-moments -- and some that are embarrassing (at least in my head they are). But generally I feel like I'm hitting the mark and perhaps slotting in as that solid player that -- mostly -- won't let her team down. I'll probably never be a derby star... but that's OK. I'll be Me and I'll have fun and that's enough.
-- It is official! The Bone City Rollers are bouting in 25 more sleeps! ACK!! I have exactly 10 more practices to make a derby player of myself. Holy crap. We are scrimmaging every practice and I am hurting in all sorts of places. I currently have a heat pack on my shoulder and could really use a good back massage and cracking. I have an assortment of ass-bruises and a deep purple welt in the shape of a skate wheel on the back of my calf. My collarbone got slammed by someone's wristguard last night and it's also a lovely shade of Bruise. My leg muscles have not gotten a break in weeks and I think I might have a case of derby leg. (That would be when your right leg muscles become more developed than your left leg from constantly skating counter-clockwise) Must add some extra training for my left leg... poor thing. Oh, and our coach is adding some killer off-track training these last weeks before the bout.
-- Our annual General Meeting is this weekend and I'm running for a position. I'd like to say that I'm not sure if I'll get it, but currently, my name is the only one posted for voting. So, yeah... I might be the new Inter-League rep. Which I just found out last night means that I would be representing our league at the National RollerCon in Las Vegas. Can you say SUH-weet? Totally.
-- My lingerie drawer is loving derby. My pocketbook not so much. Thankfully, Mr. F. is happy enough to foot the bill for fishnets and thigh-highs and ruffle panties. :D I guess if I'm gonna pick an expensive sport to play, it might as well appeal to the baser instincts of the Husband.
-- I love that these past weeks, I've not felt like Fresh Meat anymore. I'm taking hits, I've landed some solid ones, too. I'm booty blocking and anticipating the plays. I've even jammed in some scrimmages and surprised myself against some more seasoned jammers and better skaters. The game is starting to make sense in my head and my skates are starting to feel like a part of me. Sure, I still have off-moments -- and some that are embarrassing (at least in my head they are). But generally I feel like I'm hitting the mark and perhaps slotting in as that solid player that -- mostly -- won't let her team down. I'll probably never be a derby star... but that's OK. I'll be Me and I'll have fun and that's enough.
The Hammy Chronicles; pt 1
Morning is not my favorite time of day. Actually, I like morning just fine... I just don't operate well in it. Unless there's coffee or nookie involved, I generally wander through the first half-hour after waking in prime zombie style. Crooked gaze of the undead? Check. Halting, stumbling steps? Check. Unintelligible mumbling? Checkity check check.
A shower greatly improves my clarity. So, apparently, does being told by the Princess that Hammy the hamster is no longer inhabiting his habitat.
In fact, those words pretty much jumpstarted this zombie heart.
My first reply might have been, "You're joking." Then again, it might have been something slightly more sailor-ish. I couldn't tell you, cause my brain was left somewhere on my pillow whilst my body ran full tilt towards the habitat.
I saw the little den door. It was open. O-PEN. Open. Holy crap, it was open.
No sign of the little furry monster anywhere in his luxurious little two story, four bedroom Hamster Habitat. This was not good. My brain raced with all the possibilities. 1700 square feet of two-story, three bedroom People Habitat... where would a little hamster go? Why oh why are my kid's rooms such a mess? (And seriously? I ask that every day. Just that this morning it was a question completely transformed with new significance as I realized that "mess" equals "never, ever, ever find the hamster again".)
SHITE.
The family room was the cleanest and nearest locale and a quick search cleared it. No Hammy to be seen. I sent the Princess to her pigsty... errr... ROOM (I admit that I may have milked the "messy room/never find Hammy again" message a bit at this point. I am a cruel, cruel mother.) and I considered whether to turn my attentions downstairs or to the remaining bedrooms. I was just about to wake up the Kid in order to search his room when I heard Mr. F. call my name.
See, this whole drama was unknown to him, being in the shower while it unfolded. So, he was suitably surprised to open the shower door and meet the beady-eyed gaze of a certain rusty-colored hamster peeking around the bathroom door before waddling off back into our bedroom.
"UH, FLUTTERBY!? What is the hamster doing in our room?"
Which was actually incredibly good news to my ears. Hammy had been spotted. I cordoned off the room (which is to say, I closed the door...) and within seconds Hammy's fat little body was spotted trucking off into the corner. After a few snatch and grab attempts, I had the little spaz in my hands.
Hammy was not appreciative. All the Cool-Girl-Flutterby vibe was gone in an instant and he went a little berserker on me. Perhaps the term "Vibrating, Spinning, Clawing Tasmanian Hamster-devil" may be a close description. He even chattered squeaky little hamster-swears at me; which, had I not been trying to mitigate bodily harm, might have been a little bit cute. But all considerations of the word "cute" disappeared once he peed on my hand. (I know. So gross.) I managed to hold on to him long enough to deposit him unceremoniously back in his habitat and inform a tearful Princess that Hammy had been found.
All participants have been debriefed and the Kid is on some serious probation (being found guilty of leaving a particular den-door open after saying "goodnight" to the Rodent). Hammy is totally on lockdown. And I am having a hard time feeling the hamster love at this point.
On the other hand, the Princess has cleaned her room.
Maybe the Rodent can stay.
A shower greatly improves my clarity. So, apparently, does being told by the Princess that Hammy the hamster is no longer inhabiting his habitat.
In fact, those words pretty much jumpstarted this zombie heart.
My first reply might have been, "You're joking." Then again, it might have been something slightly more sailor-ish. I couldn't tell you, cause my brain was left somewhere on my pillow whilst my body ran full tilt towards the habitat.
I saw the little den door. It was open. O-PEN. Open. Holy crap, it was open.
No sign of the little furry monster anywhere in his luxurious little two story, four bedroom Hamster Habitat. This was not good. My brain raced with all the possibilities. 1700 square feet of two-story, three bedroom People Habitat... where would a little hamster go? Why oh why are my kid's rooms such a mess? (And seriously? I ask that every day. Just that this morning it was a question completely transformed with new significance as I realized that "mess" equals "never, ever, ever find the hamster again".)
SHITE.
The family room was the cleanest and nearest locale and a quick search cleared it. No Hammy to be seen. I sent the Princess to her pigsty... errr... ROOM (I admit that I may have milked the "messy room/never find Hammy again" message a bit at this point. I am a cruel, cruel mother.) and I considered whether to turn my attentions downstairs or to the remaining bedrooms. I was just about to wake up the Kid in order to search his room when I heard Mr. F. call my name.
See, this whole drama was unknown to him, being in the shower while it unfolded. So, he was suitably surprised to open the shower door and meet the beady-eyed gaze of a certain rusty-colored hamster peeking around the bathroom door before waddling off back into our bedroom.
"UH, FLUTTERBY!? What is the hamster doing in our room?"
Which was actually incredibly good news to my ears. Hammy had been spotted. I cordoned off the room (which is to say, I closed the door...) and within seconds Hammy's fat little body was spotted trucking off into the corner. After a few snatch and grab attempts, I had the little spaz in my hands.
Hammy was not appreciative. All the Cool-Girl-Flutterby vibe was gone in an instant and he went a little berserker on me. Perhaps the term "Vibrating, Spinning, Clawing Tasmanian Hamster-devil" may be a close description. He even chattered squeaky little hamster-swears at me; which, had I not been trying to mitigate bodily harm, might have been a little bit cute. But all considerations of the word "cute" disappeared once he peed on my hand. (I know. So gross.) I managed to hold on to him long enough to deposit him unceremoniously back in his habitat and inform a tearful Princess that Hammy had been found.
All participants have been debriefed and the Kid is on some serious probation (being found guilty of leaving a particular den-door open after saying "goodnight" to the Rodent). Hammy is totally on lockdown. And I am having a hard time feeling the hamster love at this point.
On the other hand, the Princess has cleaned her room.
Maybe the Rodent can stay.
5.03.2009
My daughter, the Jedi.
I am just gonna come right out and say this.
There are good reasons why this household does not have pets.* Really, really good reasons. Reasons which are reasonable and make a whole lot of sense.
1.) Mr. F. has some crazy allergies to most furry creatures. And generally dislikes the furry creatures he is not allergic to.
2.) We're really not home that much to properly care/train/love/attend to the needs of a living creature which needs large amounts of time devoted to caring/training/loving/attending.
3.) We travel often. Which would generally mean mucho kenneling expenses and very sad furbabies when we are gone.
4.) Let's face it, the grommets are not of the most responsible ilk. On the compass of life, their true north aims more towards the free-wheeling, charming AVOIDANCE of responsibility. And yes, I do what I can to fight it all the way, but seriously? Adding one more battle to the agenda is not high on my list. And frankly, I need things added to MY chore list like I need a roundhouse kick to the head.
5.) We have a bad history with pets. Like the kittens that had to be re-homed once Mr. F. discovered that with the onset of his asthma he also became the unlucky recipient of furry-thing allergies. Or the boxer that we dog-sat in hopes that perhaps we would become it's new family despite Mr. F's dislike of dogs. Or the SIX goldfish that got flushed one after the other despite herculean efforts to save them, resulting in one abandoned fish tank and involuntary shudders from the Princess at the mere mention of "goldfish". (Seriously, it was really that traumatic. I will never allow another goldfish in my house, ever.) Or the incredibly sad encounter with the world's best and most beautiful puppy that I will ever know and not get to love.
See? Lots and lots of really, really good reasons why we do not have pets.
So why can I look over my shoulder and see a Habitrail OVO hamster habitat and hear the rummaging of little rodent feet?
"Why is that?" you ask? Let me tell you. I have no idea why. No. Idea.
Somewhere between the pleading eyes of my offspring and their wheedling voices and shared YouTube videos demonstrating the adorable features of hamsterdom (Curse you, YouTube, and your broccoli-nibbling hamsters!), I caved. I allowed a thought, a mere wisp of favorable consideration enter my mind and the rest was accomplished through pure sorcery and Jedi mind trickery, I assure you. Clearly, I have underestimated the Princess' unity with the Force.
And thus, Hammy has come to live with us. And I have to admit that he's a cute little crapper, with his rusty, fluffy fur and perky round ears and shiny black eyes and sniffy little nose... and fracking sharp teeth. Yes, I have encountered the teeth. (Hammy almost "encountered" the wall.) But we're OK now, Hammy and me. I fed him some cucumber and he's figured out that my finger is not food and that I will not kill, maim or otherwise harm him. In fact, I think he maybe even likes me a bit. At least, he seems to be sending out the "You're pretty cool, Flutterby-chick." vibe. Not that I speak fluent hamster or anything.
So, for the next few years, Hammy's gonna be hanging out with us.
Any bets on who will be cleaning out his habitat??
* Drippy the Bettafish doesn't exactly count as a pet. The little dude thrives on neglect. He's spent the past two years chillin' in his puddle of fishy filth. I don't know who feeds him. I don't. I do clean his tank every month (or so) and he thanks me by making nice little bubble nests. He is a happy, happy fish.
There are good reasons why this household does not have pets.* Really, really good reasons. Reasons which are reasonable and make a whole lot of sense.
1.) Mr. F. has some crazy allergies to most furry creatures. And generally dislikes the furry creatures he is not allergic to.
2.) We're really not home that much to properly care/train/love/attend to the needs of a living creature which needs large amounts of time devoted to caring/training/loving/attending.
3.) We travel often. Which would generally mean mucho kenneling expenses and very sad furbabies when we are gone.
4.) Let's face it, the grommets are not of the most responsible ilk. On the compass of life, their true north aims more towards the free-wheeling, charming AVOIDANCE of responsibility. And yes, I do what I can to fight it all the way, but seriously? Adding one more battle to the agenda is not high on my list. And frankly, I need things added to MY chore list like I need a roundhouse kick to the head.
5.) We have a bad history with pets. Like the kittens that had to be re-homed once Mr. F. discovered that with the onset of his asthma he also became the unlucky recipient of furry-thing allergies. Or the boxer that we dog-sat in hopes that perhaps we would become it's new family despite Mr. F's dislike of dogs. Or the SIX goldfish that got flushed one after the other despite herculean efforts to save them, resulting in one abandoned fish tank and involuntary shudders from the Princess at the mere mention of "goldfish". (Seriously, it was really that traumatic. I will never allow another goldfish in my house, ever.) Or the incredibly sad encounter with the world's best and most beautiful puppy that I will ever know and not get to love.
See? Lots and lots of really, really good reasons why we do not have pets.
So why can I look over my shoulder and see a Habitrail OVO hamster habitat and hear the rummaging of little rodent feet?
"Why is that?" you ask? Let me tell you. I have no idea why. No. Idea.
Somewhere between the pleading eyes of my offspring and their wheedling voices and shared YouTube videos demonstrating the adorable features of hamsterdom (Curse you, YouTube, and your broccoli-nibbling hamsters!), I caved. I allowed a thought, a mere wisp of favorable consideration enter my mind and the rest was accomplished through pure sorcery and Jedi mind trickery, I assure you. Clearly, I have underestimated the Princess' unity with the Force.
And thus, Hammy has come to live with us. And I have to admit that he's a cute little crapper, with his rusty, fluffy fur and perky round ears and shiny black eyes and sniffy little nose... and fracking sharp teeth. Yes, I have encountered the teeth. (Hammy almost "encountered" the wall.) But we're OK now, Hammy and me. I fed him some cucumber and he's figured out that my finger is not food and that I will not kill, maim or otherwise harm him. In fact, I think he maybe even likes me a bit. At least, he seems to be sending out the "You're pretty cool, Flutterby-chick." vibe. Not that I speak fluent hamster or anything.
So, for the next few years, Hammy's gonna be hanging out with us.
Any bets on who will be cleaning out his habitat??
* Drippy the Bettafish doesn't exactly count as a pet. The little dude thrives on neglect. He's spent the past two years chillin' in his puddle of fishy filth. I don't know who feeds him. I don't. I do clean his tank every month (or so) and he thanks me by making nice little bubble nests. He is a happy, happy fish.
4.27.2009
Cause That's How She Rolls.
This past weekend the Princess finished off her Rock 100 experience with a concert performance. There were approximately 15 "rock bands" that were performing a song or two each, and her band was first on the list.
Being her first really Public Performance, I was expecting her to be nervous and full of butterflies (as I would be...) but she surprised me and stayed calm and composed. Quite the cool cucumber, I guess. Their band performed "About a Girl" (of the The Academy Is variety, not the Nirvana tune.) and I have to say that they did very well. Their volunteer producer was one of the best that we saw that night and her hard work in leading the band paid off. There was only one or two groups that, in my opinion, did better -- and they were all older kids. Needless to say, I was pretty proud of my lil girl.
We had lots of fun getting ready for the concert. We don't do Halloween around here, and so I'm always happy to go the extra mile for other fun dress-up events. I promised the Princess she would be Rockstar... I think we did it.
Being her first really Public Performance, I was expecting her to be nervous and full of butterflies (as I would be...) but she surprised me and stayed calm and composed. Quite the cool cucumber, I guess. Their band performed "About a Girl" (of the The Academy Is variety, not the Nirvana tune.) and I have to say that they did very well. Their volunteer producer was one of the best that we saw that night and her hard work in leading the band paid off. There was only one or two groups that, in my opinion, did better -- and they were all older kids. Needless to say, I was pretty proud of my lil girl.
We had lots of fun getting ready for the concert. We don't do Halloween around here, and so I'm always happy to go the extra mile for other fun dress-up events. I promised the Princess she would be Rockstar... I think we did it.
4.24.2009
A-Z also known as TMI)
A
- Available: Nope.
- Age: 33
- Annoyance: commercials
- Animal: in theory, there is nothing cuter than a hamster.
- Actor: Mark Wahlberg
- Adidas / Nike: Adidas
B
- Birthday/Birthplace: November 11, North Battleford, SK
- Best Friends: I am lucky to have a few people I treasure.
- Body Part on opposite sex: ummmmm... that spot where hipbone meets waistband. Me likey.
- Best feeling in the world: playing Tickle Monster with my kiddos or nephews/nieces.
- Best weather: I love a rainy afternoon. But mostly sunny works for me.
- Been in Love: Yes.
- Been bitched out?: Also, yes.
- Been on stage?: Lots, actually.
- Been beaten up?: Not any Real violence; but I have taken a few at Krav.
- Believe in yourself?: I'm trying!
- Believe in life on other planets: hmmmmm... I guess it's possible.
C
- Favorite candy: is chocolate considered candy? if not, then Jelly Belly beans.
- Color: aqua like the ocean.
- Cried in school: probably.
- Chocolate/Vanilla: vanilla
- Chinese/Mexican: Chinese
- Cake or pie: neither are my favorite, but I'll go with Pie
- Country to visit: Would love to go to Israel.
D
- Day or Night: I'm a night owl.
- Dance: Yeah, baby!!!
- Dance in the rain? Sure, why not?
- Do the splits?: It kills me just to think about it.
E
- Eyes: blue
- Everyone has: a bad habit
- Ever failed a class?: I don't think so.
F
- First crush: new kid in class. short-lived.
- First thoughts waking up: "already?" "how quick can I get ready? Snooze button?"
- Food: fresh strawberries
- Feel Sexy?: depends
G
- Greatest Fear: outliving my children.
- Giver or taker: Giver? I think?
- Gum: probably cinnamon gum.
- Get along with your parents?: Yeah, they're great.
In guys/girls
Eye colour: whatever color
Hair: Kinda like that whole shaved head w/ wicked facial hair thing.
Clothing Style: urban, a little bit Rebel.
H
- Hair Colour: light brown naturally, currently various shades of blonde and brown.
- Height: 5'5
- Happy: Most of the time! :)
- Holiday: Someplace beachy and tropical, please.
- Hate: being cold. brrrrr.
I
- Ice Cream: DQ soft serve.
- Instrument: piano.
J
- Jewelry: Don't often wear it.
- Job: I like mine.
K
- Kids: supercool
- Kickboxing or karate: kickboxing.
- Keep a journal?: does blogging count?
L
- Longest Car Ride: North Battleford, SK to Jasper, AB
- Love: My family
- Laughed so hard you cried: Yes, and snotted and peed and snorted as well. Not all at once, though. That would be unfortunate.
- Love at first sight: Sure, why not?
LAST PERSON WHO..
1. Slept in a bed beside you: Mr. F.
2. Saw you cry? Don't know. maybe Mr. F.
3. Went to the movies with you? my husband and kiddos
4. You went to the mall with? my bestie, J
5. You went to dinner with? my husband and kiddos
6. You talked to on the phone? derby girl, D
7. Made you laugh? D Ablo and Anna Filatic (derby girls)
8. Person you hung out with? girlfriends, J and A
M
- Milk flavor: white milk 1%
- Movie: I love (thoughtful) comedies. Not sophomoric, crass ones, though.
- Marriage?: yes!
- Motion sickness?: sometimes. urrrghh.
- McDs or BK: can I say A&W? BK is gross and McDs usually makes my tummy sick.
N
- Number of Siblings: one brother
- Number of Piercings: 3
O
- Overused Phrases: I say "dude" and at my age that just isn't cool.
- One wish: Really?
- One phobia: Moths. *shiver* They freak me out.
P
- Place you'd like to live: acreage or farm with dogs and horses.
- Perfect Pizza: pesto, spinach, red pepper, red onion, mushroom and feta.
- Pepsi/Coke: either
Q
- Quail: Never had it.
R
- Reason to cry: life sucks.
- Reality T.V.: So You Think You Can Dance
- Radio Station: can't stand radio -- I hate commercials.
- Roll your tongue: not sure. Lemme try. Yup.
S
- Song: There's no way I can pick just ONE!!
- Salad Dressing: maple balsamic
- Sushi: veggie only. Don't really like it.
- Scent: GoodSmellingGuy scent.
- Skipped school: Yes. Not much, though.
- Slept outside: Like tenting? Yes. Like on a park bench? No.
- Seen a dead body?: yes
- Smoked?: No
- Shower Daily?: twice daily -- sometimes three times. Ridiculous, I know.
- Sing well?: passable.
- Swear?: trying not to. But sometimes.
- Stuffed Animal? I had this sock monkey that I really, really loved. It had velcro hands and feet.
- Single/Group dates: both
- Strawberries/Blueberries: Strawberries~!
T
- Time for bed: 11:30 on a good girl night.
- Thunderstorms: Love, love, love storms of all kinds!
- TV: don't really watch much. The Office, UFC, Chuck
- Touch your tongue to your nose?: Is that even humanly possible?
U
- Unpredictable: maybe somewhat
V
- Vegetable you hate: I don't know. Swiss chard looks pretty vile.
- Vegetable you love: Peppers.
- Vacation spot: Anywhere!
W
- Weakness: Jumping to conclusions
- Which one of your friends acts the most like you: I'm not sure.
- Who makes you laugh the most: my kiddos!
- Worst feeling: knowing something bad is going to happen
X
-X-Ray: knees, sinuses, skull, spine
Y
-Year it is now: 2009
-Yellow: submarine?
Z
- Zoo animal: penguins!!
- Zodiac Sign: scorpio
- Available: Nope.
- Age: 33
- Annoyance: commercials
- Animal: in theory, there is nothing cuter than a hamster.
- Actor: Mark Wahlberg
- Adidas / Nike: Adidas
B
- Birthday/Birthplace: November 11, North Battleford, SK
- Best Friends: I am lucky to have a few people I treasure.
- Body Part on opposite sex: ummmmm... that spot where hipbone meets waistband. Me likey.
- Best feeling in the world: playing Tickle Monster with my kiddos or nephews/nieces.
- Best weather: I love a rainy afternoon. But mostly sunny works for me.
- Been in Love: Yes.
- Been bitched out?: Also, yes.
- Been on stage?: Lots, actually.
- Been beaten up?: Not any Real violence; but I have taken a few at Krav.
- Believe in yourself?: I'm trying!
- Believe in life on other planets: hmmmmm... I guess it's possible.
C
- Favorite candy: is chocolate considered candy? if not, then Jelly Belly beans.
- Color: aqua like the ocean.
- Cried in school: probably.
- Chocolate/Vanilla: vanilla
- Chinese/Mexican: Chinese
- Cake or pie: neither are my favorite, but I'll go with Pie
- Country to visit: Would love to go to Israel.
D
- Day or Night: I'm a night owl.
- Dance: Yeah, baby!!!
- Dance in the rain? Sure, why not?
- Do the splits?: It kills me just to think about it.
E
- Eyes: blue
- Everyone has: a bad habit
- Ever failed a class?: I don't think so.
F
- First crush: new kid in class. short-lived.
- First thoughts waking up: "already?" "how quick can I get ready? Snooze button?"
- Food: fresh strawberries
- Feel Sexy?: depends
G
- Greatest Fear: outliving my children.
- Giver or taker: Giver? I think?
- Gum: probably cinnamon gum.
- Get along with your parents?: Yeah, they're great.
In guys/girls
Eye colour: whatever color
Hair: Kinda like that whole shaved head w/ wicked facial hair thing.
Clothing Style: urban, a little bit Rebel.
H
- Hair Colour: light brown naturally, currently various shades of blonde and brown.
- Height: 5'5
- Happy: Most of the time! :)
- Holiday: Someplace beachy and tropical, please.
- Hate: being cold. brrrrr.
I
- Ice Cream: DQ soft serve.
- Instrument: piano.
J
- Jewelry: Don't often wear it.
- Job: I like mine.
K
- Kids: supercool
- Kickboxing or karate: kickboxing.
- Keep a journal?: does blogging count?
L
- Longest Car Ride: North Battleford, SK to Jasper, AB
- Love: My family
- Laughed so hard you cried: Yes, and snotted and peed and snorted as well. Not all at once, though. That would be unfortunate.
- Love at first sight: Sure, why not?
LAST PERSON WHO..
1. Slept in a bed beside you: Mr. F.
2. Saw you cry? Don't know. maybe Mr. F.
3. Went to the movies with you? my husband and kiddos
4. You went to the mall with? my bestie, J
5. You went to dinner with? my husband and kiddos
6. You talked to on the phone? derby girl, D
7. Made you laugh? D Ablo and Anna Filatic (derby girls)
8. Person you hung out with? girlfriends, J and A
M
- Milk flavor: white milk 1%
- Movie: I love (thoughtful) comedies. Not sophomoric, crass ones, though.
- Marriage?: yes!
- Motion sickness?: sometimes. urrrghh.
- McDs or BK: can I say A&W? BK is gross and McDs usually makes my tummy sick.
N
- Number of Siblings: one brother
- Number of Piercings: 3
O
- Overused Phrases: I say "dude" and at my age that just isn't cool.
- One wish: Really?
- One phobia: Moths. *shiver* They freak me out.
P
- Place you'd like to live: acreage or farm with dogs and horses.
- Perfect Pizza: pesto, spinach, red pepper, red onion, mushroom and feta.
- Pepsi/Coke: either
Q
- Quail: Never had it.
R
- Reason to cry: life sucks.
- Reality T.V.: So You Think You Can Dance
- Radio Station: can't stand radio -- I hate commercials.
- Roll your tongue: not sure. Lemme try. Yup.
S
- Song: There's no way I can pick just ONE!!
- Salad Dressing: maple balsamic
- Sushi: veggie only. Don't really like it.
- Scent: GoodSmellingGuy scent.
- Skipped school: Yes. Not much, though.
- Slept outside: Like tenting? Yes. Like on a park bench? No.
- Seen a dead body?: yes
- Smoked?: No
- Shower Daily?: twice daily -- sometimes three times. Ridiculous, I know.
- Sing well?: passable.
- Swear?: trying not to. But sometimes.
- Stuffed Animal? I had this sock monkey that I really, really loved. It had velcro hands and feet.
- Single/Group dates: both
- Strawberries/Blueberries: Strawberries~!
T
- Time for bed: 11:30 on a good girl night.
- Thunderstorms: Love, love, love storms of all kinds!
- TV: don't really watch much. The Office, UFC, Chuck
- Touch your tongue to your nose?: Is that even humanly possible?
U
- Unpredictable: maybe somewhat
V
- Vegetable you hate: I don't know. Swiss chard looks pretty vile.
- Vegetable you love: Peppers.
- Vacation spot: Anywhere!
W
- Weakness: Jumping to conclusions
- Which one of your friends acts the most like you: I'm not sure.
- Who makes you laugh the most: my kiddos!
- Worst feeling: knowing something bad is going to happen
X
-X-Ray: knees, sinuses, skull, spine
Y
-Year it is now: 2009
-Yellow: submarine?
Z
- Zoo animal: penguins!!
- Zodiac Sign: scorpio
4.14.2009
Smell Ya Later!
My latest bottle of fragrance is nearing it's last few splashes and I'll soon be looking for something different. I always find shopping for perfume (ewwww... isn't that just the most horrible sounding word for something so lovely?) a bit overwhelming. I know that many women have sort of a signature scent... they pick a certain fragrance and stick to it with tenacity and verve. My moms is one of those people and to this day every time my kids catch a whiff of Elizabeth Arden's "Red Door", one of them is bound to exclaim "GRANDMA!!" before I can count to three through the smiles in my brain.
Me? I'm not really a signature scent kinda girl. But I am a monogamous scenter. I don't ever have more than one scent in my possession... So, in a way I try to claim the "ideal" of a signature scent, but without the commitment.
Yeah... I just lost respect for myself, too.
Anyhow, with the prospect of finding my newest fragrance Love in the near future, I thought it would be... uhhh, how you say? APROPOS... to take a brief look back at all the lovely (and some rather unfortunate) frangrances I have called my own.
1.) Ahhh, first ever perfume... your name has been long forgotten but I will remember you always. One in a package of five tiny sample bottles that my Mom didn't want, I chose you first because your name was something like "Sea" or "Paradise" and smelling you made me think of clean, clean water and sunshine. Unfortunately, our love affair was short as there wasn't much of you in the bottle and I soon found out that "Real" perfume costs more money than an eleven year old can concieve of.
Which led to my brief affair with cheap, stanky perfume that was adored by pre-teen girls and featured in Seventeen on every third page.
2.) Love's Baby Soft. My first issue of Seventeen sent me spiralling down the deep dark vortex of Advertising Targetted to PreTeens. Who wouldn't want to be like one of those perfectly perky collegiate babes, posing with their side ponytails and scrunchy socks? They had clear skin and big earrings and surely they must smell really, really good and be wanted by everyone! OK, so technically I didn't OWN this one, but beyond coveting it, I regularly borrowed a spray or two from my friend who was (dubiously) lucky enough to own a bottle of it and freely let me partake of the LOVE that is the Baby Soft.
3.) Exclamation. Honestly, I didn't really even like this one. But every single SuperCoolGirl(tm) wore it and I was phasing through that rough, but necessary "I really want to be Super Cool" patch. From our spiral permed hair teased within an inch of it's life to our Asics Tigers volleyball trainers, IKEDA baggy sweatshirts and tight jeans, teenage girls of that particular vintage were barely discernible from one another.
4.) Colors by United Colors of Benetton. There was a few different varieties of this one; my first "real" fragrance. I was fondest of the clear bottle with the black top and stuck with it for a few years. I was also allergic to it at first. Which meant I got a bit red and itchy around all those pulse points you were supposed to dab at. My allergy eventually subsided, though and this is probably the closest I became to being a "signature scent" girl. I think I used at least two or three bottles in succession... a record no other scent has come close to.
5.) Eternity by Calvin Klein. I really liked this one, as well. "ETERNITY, inspired by the ideal of lasting love and intimacy, is a romantic floral fragrance. This harmonious blend of both classic and contemporary scents is a perfect combination, created to reflect timeless quality and modern style. I think it's the low notes of sandalwood and patchouli that hooked me (don't get me started on those two... a am a certified sandalwood junkie) and kept me lovin it until the bottle was finished. Ummmm... the sexy beach ads didn't hurt, either.
6.) CKOne. It was a Christmas gift and it didn't quite hit the mark. I had first sniffed it out on a friend and actually really liked it. This was my first experience with the First Rule Of Fragrance "What smells good on someone else, will not always smell good on you". I'm sure there's some scientific reason involving skin chemistry and other such factual stuff. What matters is that it smelled really rather fake-ish and one dimensional on me. For the record, though... I did try to use it all. Waste not, want not, right? Besides, it was a gift.
7.) Hemp. Sandalwood. Patchouli. For a while I nixed the fragrance search, opting instead to become a human incense stick. Well, I wasn't that noxious... it was really a very subtle thing. It's not like you can go out and buy Hemp-scented perfume. Well, maybe you can. But I preferred the body lotion and shower gel route. Hydrated skin is happy skin!
8.) Curious by Britney Spears. Seriously... I hated that this was in any way, shape or form associated with Ms. Spears. I just happened to be flipping through a magazine and the sample strip fragrance hit me and it was kismet. Having learned my Chemistry lesson well, I took this one out for a tester date and it was love at first sniff. My skin + Curious. Heart! Arrows! But I hid the bottle and didn't let anyone know what I was wearing. Cause, ewww, pop princess... *shiver* But, yes... the sandalwood wins again. "The fragrance is a white floral scent. Its notes are Louisiana magnolia, golden Anjou pear, lotus flower, tuberose, star jasmine, pink cyclamen, vanilla-infused musk, sandalwood and blonde woods."
9.) Euphoria by Calvin Klein. This is my current fragrance. With an ingredient list that sounds as delicious as exotic, how could you not love this one? "The main notes are rose hip, Japanese apple, green leaves, Lotus, black orchid, red woods, black violet and amber." And look... no sandalwood! It's dark and sensual and fun. And almost empty.
And so the search begins. Any suggestions?
Me? I'm not really a signature scent kinda girl. But I am a monogamous scenter. I don't ever have more than one scent in my possession... So, in a way I try to claim the "ideal" of a signature scent, but without the commitment.
Yeah... I just lost respect for myself, too.
Anyhow, with the prospect of finding my newest fragrance Love in the near future, I thought it would be... uhhh, how you say? APROPOS... to take a brief look back at all the lovely (and some rather unfortunate) frangrances I have called my own.
1.) Ahhh, first ever perfume... your name has been long forgotten but I will remember you always. One in a package of five tiny sample bottles that my Mom didn't want, I chose you first because your name was something like "Sea" or "Paradise" and smelling you made me think of clean, clean water and sunshine. Unfortunately, our love affair was short as there wasn't much of you in the bottle and I soon found out that "Real" perfume costs more money than an eleven year old can concieve of.
Which led to my brief affair with cheap, stanky perfume that was adored by pre-teen girls and featured in Seventeen on every third page.
2.) Love's Baby Soft. My first issue of Seventeen sent me spiralling down the deep dark vortex of Advertising Targetted to PreTeens. Who wouldn't want to be like one of those perfectly perky collegiate babes, posing with their side ponytails and scrunchy socks? They had clear skin and big earrings and surely they must smell really, really good and be wanted by everyone! OK, so technically I didn't OWN this one, but beyond coveting it, I regularly borrowed a spray or two from my friend who was (dubiously) lucky enough to own a bottle of it and freely let me partake of the LOVE that is the Baby Soft.
3.) Exclamation. Honestly, I didn't really even like this one. But every single SuperCoolGirl(tm) wore it and I was phasing through that rough, but necessary "I really want to be Super Cool" patch. From our spiral permed hair teased within an inch of it's life to our Asics Tigers volleyball trainers, IKEDA baggy sweatshirts and tight jeans, teenage girls of that particular vintage were barely discernible from one another.
4.) Colors by United Colors of Benetton. There was a few different varieties of this one; my first "real" fragrance. I was fondest of the clear bottle with the black top and stuck with it for a few years. I was also allergic to it at first. Which meant I got a bit red and itchy around all those pulse points you were supposed to dab at. My allergy eventually subsided, though and this is probably the closest I became to being a "signature scent" girl. I think I used at least two or three bottles in succession... a record no other scent has come close to.
5.) Eternity by Calvin Klein. I really liked this one, as well. "ETERNITY, inspired by the ideal of lasting love and intimacy, is a romantic floral fragrance. This harmonious blend of both classic and contemporary scents is a perfect combination, created to reflect timeless quality and modern style. I think it's the low notes of sandalwood and patchouli that hooked me (don't get me started on those two... a am a certified sandalwood junkie) and kept me lovin it until the bottle was finished. Ummmm... the sexy beach ads didn't hurt, either.
6.) CKOne. It was a Christmas gift and it didn't quite hit the mark. I had first sniffed it out on a friend and actually really liked it. This was my first experience with the First Rule Of Fragrance "What smells good on someone else, will not always smell good on you". I'm sure there's some scientific reason involving skin chemistry and other such factual stuff. What matters is that it smelled really rather fake-ish and one dimensional on me. For the record, though... I did try to use it all. Waste not, want not, right? Besides, it was a gift.
7.) Hemp. Sandalwood. Patchouli. For a while I nixed the fragrance search, opting instead to become a human incense stick. Well, I wasn't that noxious... it was really a very subtle thing. It's not like you can go out and buy Hemp-scented perfume. Well, maybe you can. But I preferred the body lotion and shower gel route. Hydrated skin is happy skin!
8.) Curious by Britney Spears. Seriously... I hated that this was in any way, shape or form associated with Ms. Spears. I just happened to be flipping through a magazine and the sample strip fragrance hit me and it was kismet. Having learned my Chemistry lesson well, I took this one out for a tester date and it was love at first sniff. My skin + Curious. Heart! Arrows! But I hid the bottle and didn't let anyone know what I was wearing. Cause, ewww, pop princess... *shiver* But, yes... the sandalwood wins again. "The fragrance is a white floral scent. Its notes are Louisiana magnolia, golden Anjou pear, lotus flower, tuberose, star jasmine, pink cyclamen, vanilla-infused musk, sandalwood and blonde woods."
9.) Euphoria by Calvin Klein. This is my current fragrance. With an ingredient list that sounds as delicious as exotic, how could you not love this one? "The main notes are rose hip, Japanese apple, green leaves, Lotus, black orchid, red woods, black violet and amber." And look... no sandalwood! It's dark and sensual and fun. And almost empty.
And so the search begins. Any suggestions?
4.13.2009
Finally!
I wanted to give my sis-in-law time to make her announcement on her own blog before I popped up over here and shouted it all over my own blog. And so I've been sitting on my hands and biting my tongue for the past few days, waiting to announce this:
Finally, after months and months and endless months (And, yes, I fully realize that it was far worse for the lovely pregnant mommy... but I'm not the patient sort, either) my beautiful niece, Samara, was born on April 9th at 10:56pm.
AND SHE'S GORGEOUS!! (Of course! Just look at her parents...)
Just look at those beautiful blue eyes! And those lips! Auntie is SOOOOO smooching those lil lips!
*squeee!* And now the countdown is on until Mr F and I and the grommets can make the trip to go visit. (Don't worry, JJ, we'll give you some time to recover!)
A big hug and high five to my lovely sis-in-law, JJ -- GOOD JOB, MAMA! I'm so proud of you. I know this was a long time coming, complete with undue drama and concern. And I suppose Big J deserves some credit, although... seriously... we all know who did all the work. :) May she bring happiness to you both!
Finally, after months and months and endless months (And, yes, I fully realize that it was far worse for the lovely pregnant mommy... but I'm not the patient sort, either) my beautiful niece, Samara, was born on April 9th at 10:56pm.
AND SHE'S GORGEOUS!! (Of course! Just look at her parents...)
Just look at those beautiful blue eyes! And those lips! Auntie is SOOOOO smooching those lil lips!
*squeee!* And now the countdown is on until Mr F and I and the grommets can make the trip to go visit. (Don't worry, JJ, we'll give you some time to recover!)
A big hug and high five to my lovely sis-in-law, JJ -- GOOD JOB, MAMA! I'm so proud of you. I know this was a long time coming, complete with undue drama and concern. And I suppose Big J deserves some credit, although... seriously... we all know who did all the work. :) May she bring happiness to you both!
4.08.2009
I Know, I Know... Enough With The Change Thing.
Here we go again...
So far, my foray into the workaday world has been rather splashy and, frankly, ridiculous. I am a person who enjoys change, but I am finding that this is one area that I'd rather remain a constant.
Regardless of what I would wish or like, it was becoming clear that my Front Desk Gig was not going to work with my other Makes Me No Money At the Moment (But Nevertheless Could Really Pay Off Sometime Soon) Gig.
*aside: it's really silly to use the word "gig" isn't it? Kinda reminds me of the old Archie comics for some reason.* Carry on.
The end result being that conflicting hours (and not enough of them, for that matter) and a shady manager was enough to lay the ax to that tree. Bye, bye, front desk and ever-vacillating-double-talking-crappy-scheduling boss.
I handed in my notice the same day that I was hired at my other job. Which was totally a fluke as I certainly didn't expect to get hired the moment I passed my resume across the desk. But, thankfully things seem to have worked out. I am now occupying my position as *ahem* Front Lead (thank you very much...) at a spiffy car detailing joint here in Fluttercity.
Which means that I spend a lot of time outside greeting customers as they pull up, schmooze them and arrange their cleaning packages, and kind of oversee the front bay stations. I already have a head start on a tan thanks to the warm sun today (OK, so it's just a bit of pink on my cheeks and nose, but... after an endlessly long winter? I'm exercising my right to call it a head start!) and am really enjoying the people I work with. The owners are a very tight family and the place has a great feel to it, it's nice to spend the day laughing with people and endearing yourself to elderly customers and generally making people feel glad to be spending horrendous amounts of money to not have to clean their own car.
I lied -- Our packages are actually very reasonable and your car will pretty much roll over; panting and doing that involuntary dog-leg thing while it's being worked over. Cause that is some sweet, sweet car lovin' that goes on in there. Rocket got a complimentary exterior job this morning and my heart may have skipped a beat or two when I saw him, all dressed out with the tire and rim shine, freshly waxed and glistening in the morning sun.
And that put a smile on his face cause I think he may have been a bit worried. See, I also get to drive each and every car that comes through the shop. I slide behind the wheel of most of them without even a sliver of temptation... but there are some, I tell you, that have made me a little bit weak in the knees after hearing their high-performance engines growl throaty, nasty things in my ear. And the occasional over-the-top beefy monster Hummer or Escalade has been known to rev my motor a little bit in appreciation. Especially when said monster slicky folds down a sweet rivetted steel running board for my dainty sneaker-clad foot upon opening the driver's door and automatically adjusts the driver's seat. That, my friends, is treating a lady like a lady. It is also a bit freakishly futuristic and I would be lying if I didn't say I was about to freak the crap OUT if the vehicle started to talk to me (a la KITT) next.
I've also driven some cars that ought not to be set foot in by any person with even half an intact nasal passage. And I've found that people are a bit weird about their icky spilly stuff. It's not enough to just acknowledge it. To say that, Yes, I Smell That, Too. No, they want you to get your nose right in there... right THERE where it's the worst so that you can be familiar with the Source of the Stench. Some even want you to touch it and then smell your fingers -- I presume to establish the fact that there is Residual Grossness. Ohhh, people, please do not do this to your smiley, happy Front Lead. She is more than willing to just take your word for it and would rather her fingers not smell like rancid Butter for the rest of the afternoon.
But the number one truth that I will now, with authority and vehemency, proclaim as the greatest crime against your vehicle and the lovely Front Lead who will regrettably have to pilot it through the shop.... is chewing tobacco. Particularly the watery, spitty, stinky bits that mindless, heartless degenerates actually spit into the floor carpets of their vehicles and then expect you to clean that STANK ARSE CRAP out for a paltry price. Some things are beyond my understanding.
But it's enough to send me running over to my squeaky clean and lovely smelling Rocket with a smile on my face.
So far, my foray into the workaday world has been rather splashy and, frankly, ridiculous. I am a person who enjoys change, but I am finding that this is one area that I'd rather remain a constant.
Regardless of what I would wish or like, it was becoming clear that my Front Desk Gig was not going to work with my other Makes Me No Money At the Moment (But Nevertheless Could Really Pay Off Sometime Soon) Gig.
*aside: it's really silly to use the word "gig" isn't it? Kinda reminds me of the old Archie comics for some reason.* Carry on.
The end result being that conflicting hours (and not enough of them, for that matter) and a shady manager was enough to lay the ax to that tree. Bye, bye, front desk and ever-vacillating-double-talking-crappy-scheduling boss.
I handed in my notice the same day that I was hired at my other job. Which was totally a fluke as I certainly didn't expect to get hired the moment I passed my resume across the desk. But, thankfully things seem to have worked out. I am now occupying my position as *ahem* Front Lead (thank you very much...) at a spiffy car detailing joint here in Fluttercity.
Which means that I spend a lot of time outside greeting customers as they pull up, schmooze them and arrange their cleaning packages, and kind of oversee the front bay stations. I already have a head start on a tan thanks to the warm sun today (OK, so it's just a bit of pink on my cheeks and nose, but... after an endlessly long winter? I'm exercising my right to call it a head start!) and am really enjoying the people I work with. The owners are a very tight family and the place has a great feel to it, it's nice to spend the day laughing with people and endearing yourself to elderly customers and generally making people feel glad to be spending horrendous amounts of money to not have to clean their own car.
I lied -- Our packages are actually very reasonable and your car will pretty much roll over; panting and doing that involuntary dog-leg thing while it's being worked over. Cause that is some sweet, sweet car lovin' that goes on in there. Rocket got a complimentary exterior job this morning and my heart may have skipped a beat or two when I saw him, all dressed out with the tire and rim shine, freshly waxed and glistening in the morning sun.
And that put a smile on his face cause I think he may have been a bit worried. See, I also get to drive each and every car that comes through the shop. I slide behind the wheel of most of them without even a sliver of temptation... but there are some, I tell you, that have made me a little bit weak in the knees after hearing their high-performance engines growl throaty, nasty things in my ear. And the occasional over-the-top beefy monster Hummer or Escalade has been known to rev my motor a little bit in appreciation. Especially when said monster slicky folds down a sweet rivetted steel running board for my dainty sneaker-clad foot upon opening the driver's door and automatically adjusts the driver's seat. That, my friends, is treating a lady like a lady. It is also a bit freakishly futuristic and I would be lying if I didn't say I was about to freak the crap OUT if the vehicle started to talk to me (a la KITT) next.
I've also driven some cars that ought not to be set foot in by any person with even half an intact nasal passage. And I've found that people are a bit weird about their icky spilly stuff. It's not enough to just acknowledge it. To say that, Yes, I Smell That, Too. No, they want you to get your nose right in there... right THERE where it's the worst so that you can be familiar with the Source of the Stench. Some even want you to touch it and then smell your fingers -- I presume to establish the fact that there is Residual Grossness. Ohhh, people, please do not do this to your smiley, happy Front Lead. She is more than willing to just take your word for it and would rather her fingers not smell like rancid Butter for the rest of the afternoon.
But the number one truth that I will now, with authority and vehemency, proclaim as the greatest crime against your vehicle and the lovely Front Lead who will regrettably have to pilot it through the shop.... is chewing tobacco. Particularly the watery, spitty, stinky bits that mindless, heartless degenerates actually spit into the floor carpets of their vehicles and then expect you to clean that STANK ARSE CRAP out for a paltry price. Some things are beyond my understanding.
But it's enough to send me running over to my squeaky clean and lovely smelling Rocket with a smile on my face.
4.01.2009
No Way.
There are things that never cease to amaze me about the internet.
One of them is getting the occasional email from someone regarding my blog from phishers when content on my blog matches their search criteria. It's a short list, really. My little blog doesn't make that big of a dent in the blogosphere. (Oh, little blog, I had such high hopes for you...)
Some of the more memorable phishes:
- An organization that petitions against circuses (circi??) and their poor treatment of animals following my post saying that I was not attending the local Shriner's deal for the same reason.
- A couple emails requesting product reviews after I posted about a similar product.
- The Lukas Rossi fan club which put out an open call on their forum to comment on a post on my blog. Which made no sense cause my post about him was really positive. I have no idea why they were harassing me about it. I was, like, "He's great, I totally am crushing hard." And they were, like, "You must crush harder. This is offensive." This one? I could see how phishing can go horribly wrong... I think I shut down comments for a bit after that.
But my latest phish takes the cake. Just cause I Never. Saw. That. Coming.
I mean, you would reasonably expect that an animal rights organization or marketing board or celebrity fan club exists.
But, when I got an email from a member (#1 championship contender, no less...) of the...
...wait for it...
Pillow Fight League
I was all, "No Way."
But, being the curious cat that I am, I checked out the link and yes... it does exist. And it actually looks kinda cool. I can see why derby has adopted it as a past-time. Their girls look pretty kick-ass, too.
I'm still kinda all, "No Way." about it. But thought I would post the link here all the same, just cause she complimented my blog. Which I know is the blog equivalent of putting out on the first date, but still. ("You have beautiful eyes, baby." "OK, you can touch me.")
Seriously, that conversation NEVER actually happened. I'm totally pulling that out of the air. Totally.
So, here's a shout out to the girls of the Pillow Fight League. I might have to go watch some of those crazy bouts to get a leg up on my competition at the next derby after-party.
One of them is getting the occasional email from someone regarding my blog from phishers when content on my blog matches their search criteria. It's a short list, really. My little blog doesn't make that big of a dent in the blogosphere. (Oh, little blog, I had such high hopes for you...)
Some of the more memorable phishes:
- An organization that petitions against circuses (circi??) and their poor treatment of animals following my post saying that I was not attending the local Shriner's deal for the same reason.
- A couple emails requesting product reviews after I posted about a similar product.
- The Lukas Rossi fan club which put out an open call on their forum to comment on a post on my blog. Which made no sense cause my post about him was really positive. I have no idea why they were harassing me about it. I was, like, "He's great, I totally am crushing hard." And they were, like, "You must crush harder. This is offensive." This one? I could see how phishing can go horribly wrong... I think I shut down comments for a bit after that.
But my latest phish takes the cake. Just cause I Never. Saw. That. Coming.
I mean, you would reasonably expect that an animal rights organization or marketing board or celebrity fan club exists.
But, when I got an email from a member (#1 championship contender, no less...) of the...
...wait for it...
Pillow Fight League
I was all, "No Way."
But, being the curious cat that I am, I checked out the link and yes... it does exist. And it actually looks kinda cool. I can see why derby has adopted it as a past-time. Their girls look pretty kick-ass, too.
I'm still kinda all, "No Way." about it. But thought I would post the link here all the same, just cause she complimented my blog. Which I know is the blog equivalent of putting out on the first date, but still. ("You have beautiful eyes, baby." "OK, you can touch me.")
Seriously, that conversation NEVER actually happened. I'm totally pulling that out of the air. Totally.
So, here's a shout out to the girls of the Pillow Fight League. I might have to go watch some of those crazy bouts to get a leg up on my competition at the next derby after-party.
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