To say that I was a bit of a dork growing up would be an atrocious understatement. Upon reviewing some of my hobbies and style choices it is no wonder boys avoided me like the plague.
For starters I went through a very long "sweatsuit stage" AKA it was all I wore. Assorted colors you ask? Yes indeed. Paired with a nice set of black and white saddle shoes and a homemade yarn and pony bead necklace I looked like a million bucks... or so I thought. I also was into "Hammer Pants, the "paint splatter look", neon accessories, and any shirt that I hand crafted at girl scout camp. YIKES!
Next up Hobbies:
Exhibit A: Journalism.
From second grade on I kept a pretty serious journal. My first entry I was enjoying and I quote "a peece of hurshee chawclet and waching Arsenial Hall."
Then came the dramatic entries.
I hate: __________ Fill in the blank. Sadly a lot of the time it was my fifth grade teacher. Sorry Mr. Bassa (it was a phase just because you love the packers doesn't mean anyone holds that against you. Besides mine was usually more about getting my name on the board because I simply said, "where's my free stickers" upon receiving the latest book order. Is it any wonder you stopped teaching and joined a monastery. Hope I didn't scar you for life.
Then there were other small tragedies. NEVER getting to go to Mr. Bulky's candy store and then when I did buying sour gumballs and dropping one in the grass in the yard forcing me to my room for a good cry.
Trying continually to accept the fact that Miss was really everyone's favorite. Which of course is why I wrote the novel, "Memories of Madelyn and Marian" ( a pretty decent story slightly similar to an american girl book I read but duh waay better) to showcase my talents at my sister's graduation party. Wherein I carried it around and forced several family members to read it.
Never made the New York Times bestseller list but it did help me to accomplish one thing on my list of "things I'd like to accomplish in my 12th year of life." You can imagine I failed at learning sign language and getting my own fragrance line.
Along with mad skillz on the trampoline. Killer jewelry making. Being a professional at No-Bake cookies. I was also a published Poet. Some of the shit I came up with is astonishing. For starters I was amazing at rhyming and knew a lot about love. Which is more than I can say for Eminem. Volume one is titled: "You mean the world to me, in a very special way."
This shit is serious.
I don't want to brag but I did win the Young Author's Conference in 92, 93 and 94 (note 1994 was also the year of Miss's graduation party AKA Novel year).
Excerpt from Volume one:
Titled "The True Meaning of Life"
Life is a Game.
Sometimes
it'll change.
Or turn into a shame.
Don't take the wrong person to blame.
No need to make a flame, because you're to lame,
to blame the game that shames your flames,
and then changes.
By: Heidi B.
Age 10
Okay last one and I am serious!
"Don't Fuss"
Even though you are only busting the crust.
You must just lust.
But you must not fuss.
By: Heidi B. Age 10
Wow I bet you feel enlightened.
Editors Note: below the poetry there is a lovely drawing of the earth accented with colored pencils and a footnote that reads: look closely to understand the meanings of the poems to you.
(Bit bossy I guess but it's worth it due to the literary content.)
Last the title of this post: Why is the Geek towering over the table.
I was the last of four children. Perhaps a surprise? Due to the fact alone that Katie was only 19 months when I was born I think we can all assume the obvious.
Moving on.
We had a lovely round wooden oak table that my mom refinished herself. Meaning hours of inhaling polyurethane for the sake of beautiful furniture. However in our collection of chairs there were four as I recall so by adding an office chair and a bar stool we had enough room for the whole family. Guess who sat on the bar stool? Yep the youngest. While I may have always been the youngest after awhile I wasn't necessarily the smallest. Sometime around my gifted 12th year of life, we were eating supper when Michael gazed across the table and stated, "why is The Geek towering over the table." As the years passed and I enlarged no one including myself noticed that perhaps it was time for another office chair. Not Even kidding.
I might need to check my journal for that intense moment but I'm quite sure that is how it all played out.
I better get going. I think it's time I put on my sweats for the day and work on some holiday crafts for the fam. Some things never change I guess.
Not even kidding! :)
Happy Holidays
Saturday, December 8, 2012
Monday, October 22, 2012
Turn a Thrift Store Sweater into 4 New Accessories
So over the weekend I had the luck of spending time with a bunch of smart and creative women at a quilt retreat. I was there to do hair, nails and waxing but in my off time I got a chance to play guitar, finish a great book (The Island by Elin Hilderbrand) and get inspired via pinterest and the women around me.
Friday we went into town and stopped at Goodwill where I picked up about 7 sweaters, a pair of boots and a large glass jar that I turned into a Pottery Barn inspired centerpiece. So last night I got to work on my idea for the sweater.
(Since I am having trouble posting these pictures one at a time, I am just going to explain and then post all the pictures.)
I cut two sections out of the tummy of the sweater. I cinged the edges with a lighter. I hand sewed the rough edges so you couldn't see them.
Then I took the arms and made them leg-warmer/boot-socks simply by cinging the ends and wearing them with the cuffs on top. (note the boots are the Goodwill boots brand new only $15.00!)
Next I took the collar and cut it right on the opposite side of the seam so it naturally wouldn't fray and used it as a headband.
And last I took a piece of scrap and used hand sewing to attach velcro and a chunky button to make a coffee cozy. Not even kidding.
Okay this is what I'm talking about:
Friday we went into town and stopped at Goodwill where I picked up about 7 sweaters, a pair of boots and a large glass jar that I turned into a Pottery Barn inspired centerpiece. So last night I got to work on my idea for the sweater.
(Since I am having trouble posting these pictures one at a time, I am just going to explain and then post all the pictures.)
I cut two sections out of the tummy of the sweater. I cinged the edges with a lighter. I hand sewed the rough edges so you couldn't see them.
Then I took the arms and made them leg-warmer/boot-socks simply by cinging the ends and wearing them with the cuffs on top. (note the boots are the Goodwill boots brand new only $15.00!)
Next I took the collar and cut it right on the opposite side of the seam so it naturally wouldn't fray and used it as a headband.
And last I took a piece of scrap and used hand sewing to attach velcro and a chunky button to make a coffee cozy. Not even kidding.
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
Gas stations are guy Beauty Shops
I really am not a total slacker. I am blogging at one PM on a tuesday but that is only because my 12 o'clock appointment stood me up. And to be completely honest the damn internet sucks up a lot of my time. It goes like this.... laundry eh... dishes eh...clean the shoppe..eh... go online and look at pinterest, facebook, or shop on amazon Hell to the YES and time sneaks right on by!
Oh I left out Youtube videos, rotten e-cards and damnyouautocorrect.com all highly recommended by yours truly.
So the title today is because when I was saddled up on the back of my mom's four wheeler yesterday chewing her ear off for two hours while we hit the open road with Dad and Nolan, I told her my next blog was going to be about all the silly shenanigans I have preformed at gas stations. I'm doing better but in my younger days gas stations made me nervous. Sometimes guys come into the beauty shoppe and get a little nervous. They see the pink ceiling, the pink polka dot phone, they wait patiently to get their hair-cut on a pink chair flipping through avon catalogs or glamour. They have this look of fear on their faces and I think their next thought of worry is "how am I going to get out of here without getting glitter on myself". Poor bastards.
Places that make me feel out of my element are mechanic shops, Menards and gas stations. I have this needling fear that something dumb is going to spew out of my mouth or I will knock something over, trip, my fly will be down and I will unknowingly have something stuck in my teeth.
When pondering some of my rather famous gas station mishaps I would have to say one of the very first ones was shortly after my 16th birthday. Jerry owned a tiny gas station in Rutledge and he believed in full service especially for the ladies. I came slidin' in in my dad's 1993ish extended cab Nissan truck complete with the full topper which had carpet and curtains. It either looked like I was driving a baby blue hearse or was an aspiring child predator. Jerry comes out says his hellos, asks me how much money I'm tossing into the tank and gets to work. I am casually sitting in the driver's seat trying to look cool in case someone I know goes by and spots me chatting with my former bus driver who is pumping my gas. Midway through our discussion of god only knows what the Nissan started rolling away. M.S. BONEHEAD never put the GD thing in park. I was relaxed and lifted my foot off the brake and nearly ran poor Jerry down.
In the following years I did the following at gas stations.....
1. was reaching to the passenger side floor for my purse and honked the horn with my boob.
2. came out the building at hot-limit speed and slipped on a patch of ice ending in a comic book fall that I noticed other patrons averting there eyes for a good chuckle.
3. Attempted to tip a full service pump dude with zero success. He said if he took it he could get fired! What?!
4. This one is really ridiculous: While huddled up in the sandstone gas station car wash in my Pink Ford Probe (sports car if you will) in the dead of winter I went to leave and there was a massive ridge of ice that I simply couldn't hurdle. My wheels would just spin and spin and spin. Consumed with fear that I might have to spend my whole night stuck in the car wash and miss out on a fabulous college keg party. I did what any girl in a Pink Panther would do.... I backed that sucker up all the way to the very back of the car wash put it in first gear and came catapulting out of that car wash like I was in an episode of the Dukes of Hazard. There was a trucker gassing up at the diesel pump nearby who nearly fainted when I came shooting out of there. Nailed it.
5. when I tell you this one you absolutely can not judge me. It was a blond moment to beat all blond moments and I was a brunette at the time. I actually pulled up to what I thought was a car wash door and waited and waited and waited then feeling frustrated piled out of my car to see what the situation at hand really was. Only to come to the realization that it wasn't a car wash at all it was indeed just someone's garage who lived directly next to the gas station. I probably should have introduced myself and opened their minds to a pretty sweet business opportunity but I didn't have time. I needed to get home stat and waste hours on-line.
What it really boils down to is this... should I really be driving.. ha ha no just kidding. Anytime we are out of our comfort zone weird shit is bound to occur. Especially to me.
Not even kidding.
Oh I left out Youtube videos, rotten e-cards and damnyouautocorrect.com all highly recommended by yours truly.
So the title today is because when I was saddled up on the back of my mom's four wheeler yesterday chewing her ear off for two hours while we hit the open road with Dad and Nolan, I told her my next blog was going to be about all the silly shenanigans I have preformed at gas stations. I'm doing better but in my younger days gas stations made me nervous. Sometimes guys come into the beauty shoppe and get a little nervous. They see the pink ceiling, the pink polka dot phone, they wait patiently to get their hair-cut on a pink chair flipping through avon catalogs or glamour. They have this look of fear on their faces and I think their next thought of worry is "how am I going to get out of here without getting glitter on myself". Poor bastards.
Places that make me feel out of my element are mechanic shops, Menards and gas stations. I have this needling fear that something dumb is going to spew out of my mouth or I will knock something over, trip, my fly will be down and I will unknowingly have something stuck in my teeth.
When pondering some of my rather famous gas station mishaps I would have to say one of the very first ones was shortly after my 16th birthday. Jerry owned a tiny gas station in Rutledge and he believed in full service especially for the ladies. I came slidin' in in my dad's 1993ish extended cab Nissan truck complete with the full topper which had carpet and curtains. It either looked like I was driving a baby blue hearse or was an aspiring child predator. Jerry comes out says his hellos, asks me how much money I'm tossing into the tank and gets to work. I am casually sitting in the driver's seat trying to look cool in case someone I know goes by and spots me chatting with my former bus driver who is pumping my gas. Midway through our discussion of god only knows what the Nissan started rolling away. M.S. BONEHEAD never put the GD thing in park. I was relaxed and lifted my foot off the brake and nearly ran poor Jerry down.
In the following years I did the following at gas stations.....
1. was reaching to the passenger side floor for my purse and honked the horn with my boob.
2. came out the building at hot-limit speed and slipped on a patch of ice ending in a comic book fall that I noticed other patrons averting there eyes for a good chuckle.
3. Attempted to tip a full service pump dude with zero success. He said if he took it he could get fired! What?!
4. This one is really ridiculous: While huddled up in the sandstone gas station car wash in my Pink Ford Probe (sports car if you will) in the dead of winter I went to leave and there was a massive ridge of ice that I simply couldn't hurdle. My wheels would just spin and spin and spin. Consumed with fear that I might have to spend my whole night stuck in the car wash and miss out on a fabulous college keg party. I did what any girl in a Pink Panther would do.... I backed that sucker up all the way to the very back of the car wash put it in first gear and came catapulting out of that car wash like I was in an episode of the Dukes of Hazard. There was a trucker gassing up at the diesel pump nearby who nearly fainted when I came shooting out of there. Nailed it.
5. when I tell you this one you absolutely can not judge me. It was a blond moment to beat all blond moments and I was a brunette at the time. I actually pulled up to what I thought was a car wash door and waited and waited and waited then feeling frustrated piled out of my car to see what the situation at hand really was. Only to come to the realization that it wasn't a car wash at all it was indeed just someone's garage who lived directly next to the gas station. I probably should have introduced myself and opened their minds to a pretty sweet business opportunity but I didn't have time. I needed to get home stat and waste hours on-line.
What it really boils down to is this... should I really be driving.. ha ha no just kidding. Anytime we are out of our comfort zone weird shit is bound to occur. Especially to me.
Not even kidding.
Monday, August 20, 2012
Kids Say the Best Stuff EVER!
My goodness, I have been so blessed to have so many great kids in my life. The thing is they are absolutely hilarious. Nolan, my four old, is notorious for saying the unexpected. A year ago he pulled my pajama pants away from my butt and peeked in and said, "hey mom I can see your butt" I said "yep there it is" then he said "well, it wooks fantastic' and I said, "really thanks bud you just made my day!"
The other day my niece announced loudly before we were about to enter the theatre to see "diary of a wimpy kid dog days", which I highly recommend .... hilarious. "I'm probly gonna have to poop now because I've been eating so much."
A few years back my niece was sitting on my dad who was stretched out in the grass and suddenly it occurs to her to ask, "Pops do you have a baby in your belly?" his response, "nope just a bunch of beer."
Even before that in my ex-husbands family there were three aunties pregnant at the same time, two of them had big "sisters waiting one was about 5 and one was about 4 the 4 year old is sitting next to the 5 year old at a party we were having she says, "Alli, do you have a baby in your belly?" Alli responds,"No." her cousin says "well than you can have a beer."
Two winters ago I was in a sour winter -might-never-end sort of mood. We had just been dumped on by another pile of snow and I was shoveling it by had and swearing and grumbling under my breath. Nolan 2 then was parked on top of one the snow banks eating snow like it was going out of style. He says, "mom I'm cold let's go in". I hastily stated,"maybe we should just move somewhere warm!" He goes, "yeah wike in da house".
Then you have the awesome songs they learn. "I'm sexy and I know it", "fuelin' up on cocaine and whiskey, wish I had a good girl to miss me"...... ummm what! When did yankee doodle stick a feather up his butt! That's what I want to know!
All I know is that there is an amazing time in a kids life before they start to be embarassed by everything. They are naturally funny and they have no clue how funny they are. This is a time to treasure before long they will be a bunch of wise asses like us. For now they are just plain old funny.
Not even kidding.
The other day my niece announced loudly before we were about to enter the theatre to see "diary of a wimpy kid dog days", which I highly recommend .... hilarious. "I'm probly gonna have to poop now because I've been eating so much."
A few years back my niece was sitting on my dad who was stretched out in the grass and suddenly it occurs to her to ask, "Pops do you have a baby in your belly?" his response, "nope just a bunch of beer."
Even before that in my ex-husbands family there were three aunties pregnant at the same time, two of them had big "sisters waiting one was about 5 and one was about 4 the 4 year old is sitting next to the 5 year old at a party we were having she says, "Alli, do you have a baby in your belly?" Alli responds,"No." her cousin says "well than you can have a beer."
Two winters ago I was in a sour winter -might-never-end sort of mood. We had just been dumped on by another pile of snow and I was shoveling it by had and swearing and grumbling under my breath. Nolan 2 then was parked on top of one the snow banks eating snow like it was going out of style. He says, "mom I'm cold let's go in". I hastily stated,"maybe we should just move somewhere warm!" He goes, "yeah wike in da house".
Then you have the awesome songs they learn. "I'm sexy and I know it", "fuelin' up on cocaine and whiskey, wish I had a good girl to miss me"...... ummm what! When did yankee doodle stick a feather up his butt! That's what I want to know!
All I know is that there is an amazing time in a kids life before they start to be embarassed by everything. They are naturally funny and they have no clue how funny they are. This is a time to treasure before long they will be a bunch of wise asses like us. For now they are just plain old funny.
Not even kidding.
Monday, July 30, 2012
I am farting to stink I'm not kidding
So I happen to be a master at a turn of phrase and not in that cool way.. in that way that your brain must have been having a headstand contest with itself way. I have the innate ability to take any phrase and turn it bass ackwards. In doing this I continuously crack myself up even if I am talking to myself in the mirror (which happens regularly).
My friend Ana never lets me forget my famous "I'm supplised you said that" comment, as every time I get a letter from her she says "bet you're supplised I didn't forget ect. ect."
I have been lucky enough to surround myself with cool cats who seem to have the same problem for example my BFF molly when working at the pharmacy would continuously ask for people's Bird of Daith (quick translation for you slow thinkers Date of Birth) and even her rockin' sister called to "tancel a canning appointment" which of course we all know she was canceling a tanning appointment. Because let's be honest none of us "can" food and we only say tancel when we meant to say tinsel when it's Christmastime and we're more lit up than the tree.
I digress.
Turns out I come from a family of bass ackwardness. We take song lyrics and have them all changed around and quite frankly a lot of those musicians should have called us.. or Weird Al Yankovitch at least. I mean who wouldn't "treat your neighbor like a short mexican" or be watching for a "Secret Asian Man" We read things wrong "Pregnancy... what the.. oh it said Pharmacy." We hear things completely wrong "ohh look like she's a south paw too"... "What! She sells pot too!!" and then we just plain say things wrong "what the hell is a fachita? and still on the books my most famously inappropriate statement to date (and I had to dig):
When working in the second salon of my giant career, God only knows what I was rambling on about but I said "I'm farting to stink I understand". Now how on God's green earth does one make a flubber that makes perfect sense in a very gross way?
NAILED IT!
I'm starting to think you see where I'm going with this.
Maybe acts of danger toward the English language is going to be my super-villian power?
It might be my tup of kea........... not even kidding. :)
My friend Ana never lets me forget my famous "I'm supplised you said that" comment, as every time I get a letter from her she says "bet you're supplised I didn't forget ect. ect."
I have been lucky enough to surround myself with cool cats who seem to have the same problem for example my BFF molly when working at the pharmacy would continuously ask for people's Bird of Daith (quick translation for you slow thinkers Date of Birth) and even her rockin' sister called to "tancel a canning appointment" which of course we all know she was canceling a tanning appointment. Because let's be honest none of us "can" food and we only say tancel when we meant to say tinsel when it's Christmastime and we're more lit up than the tree.
I digress.
Turns out I come from a family of bass ackwardness. We take song lyrics and have them all changed around and quite frankly a lot of those musicians should have called us.. or Weird Al Yankovitch at least. I mean who wouldn't "treat your neighbor like a short mexican" or be watching for a "Secret Asian Man" We read things wrong "Pregnancy... what the.. oh it said Pharmacy." We hear things completely wrong "ohh look like she's a south paw too"... "What! She sells pot too!!" and then we just plain say things wrong "what the hell is a fachita? and still on the books my most famously inappropriate statement to date (and I had to dig):
When working in the second salon of my giant career, God only knows what I was rambling on about but I said "I'm farting to stink I understand". Now how on God's green earth does one make a flubber that makes perfect sense in a very gross way?
NAILED IT!
I'm starting to think you see where I'm going with this.
Maybe acts of danger toward the English language is going to be my super-villian power?
It might be my tup of kea........... not even kidding. :)
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
Beagle and Weinie (Hairy and Lloyd.. dumb and dumber)
So about a couple of months ago I got a wild hair up my behinder to get a puppy. I discussed it briefly with Jayke and he didn't completely shut it down so I began scanning the internet for this new family member. At first I was on the lookout for a beagle puppy. Since we already have Hairy-Larry-Stinkenstein who is a 10 year old beagle I thought he needs a com-rad. Then the more I pondered it I decided that he has been a bit of a neurotic freak his entire life (perhaps based on my parenting but I am not going to lay in front of that bus!) So I thought maybe I should look at some other breeds.
One day while perusing the internet I came across Second Hand Hounds... and that's when I laid eyes on Mr. Wienie. Nolan is in love with the movie Open Season Two and there is a ridiculous daschund named Mr. Wienie and there is a nutty lady who cruises around with her husband in a hippy camper who loves the crap out of Mr. Wienie. Nolan relates to Wienie and I relate to nutty lady. :) I didn't name him that he came that way. I simply added Lloyd and Cletus to add a touch of character. However this means that on a regular basis I find myself standing in my underwear at my front door in the wee hours hollering "WIENIE!" while he takes his own sweet time doing his business.
So for anyone who has ever adopted an animal will know this: it is intense! I felt like I had a applied for a job with the CIA. I applied, there's a home check, there's a meet and greet, and if you are still worthy you send them some serious coin and you get a daschund-basset hound mix that you instantly love.
Then some time passes and as all puppies do they begin to settle in.
So the beagle has a serious case of separation anxiety so therefore as soon as I put my shoes on or grab my keys he begins shivering at the horrible dramatic idea that he could be left alone for a whole hour to lounge on his dog bed and mill around my shoppe. Epic I know.
So previously the only battle was beagle chewing trim, scratching doorknobs, taking healthy dumps just because he can, and simply going all out postal. So when asked, "does having another dog around help him with his anxiety?" The answer is "no, now I just have a puppy watching him going 'okay..okay..so that's how we handle our private time.'"
Let's just go over some of the recent findings I have discovered upon leaving Wienie alone: Apparently he has an avid interest in knitting as he continuously weasels his big head into the pockets of the recliner in the living room and takes out all my knitting and trails it all over the room and then proceeds to snack on my bamboo needles. Which weren't cheap and could easily spear him if he isn't careful. These knitting needles look like something left behind by buffy the vampire slayer. (and I'm talking Kristy Swanson not that poser Sarah Michelle Gellar)... anyhow I digress.
I told him if it is absolutely necessary I will enroll him in a community ed knitting course but for the time being I am left unraveling my beautiful wool yarn from in and around my living room furniture.
Then over the weekend my sister stopped to let them out as they had been alone for all of 4 hours apparently Wien decided to pull out some of my old CD's and spread them around everywhere. In this case it would have been nice if he would have taken the time to rip some of the songs I like onto my computer because I just haven't found the time or the patience. How inconsiderate.
Among other things he enjoys coffee filters, stir sticks, the contents of my purse, Nolan's now amputee Sir Angus toy, batteries (that one involved some internet research), my underwear, empty toilet paper rolls, anything cardboard and my newspaper basket is obviously the most delicious snack ever.
This one is currently topping the charts though. He manages to squeeze his over-sized head into the box of coiled cotton in my shoppe and then removes miles of it, tears it up, potentially lays on it and by the time I get in to survey the damages it looks like a snowstorm has occurred in the southern hemisphere of my shoppe.
Kennel them you say?
Oh I have gone that route. The beagle who was a born escape artist frees himself from his metal crate by doing a spastic maneuver of some sort. Upon release he heads to wienie's kennel and using his few teeth he has left squeezes the opening to Wien's kennel and releases him as well. I can't decide whether to commend them for their perseverance or knock their heads together!
God bless em' they keep life interesting.
Not even kidding.
One day while perusing the internet I came across Second Hand Hounds... and that's when I laid eyes on Mr. Wienie. Nolan is in love with the movie Open Season Two and there is a ridiculous daschund named Mr. Wienie and there is a nutty lady who cruises around with her husband in a hippy camper who loves the crap out of Mr. Wienie. Nolan relates to Wienie and I relate to nutty lady. :) I didn't name him that he came that way. I simply added Lloyd and Cletus to add a touch of character. However this means that on a regular basis I find myself standing in my underwear at my front door in the wee hours hollering "WIENIE!" while he takes his own sweet time doing his business.
So for anyone who has ever adopted an animal will know this: it is intense! I felt like I had a applied for a job with the CIA. I applied, there's a home check, there's a meet and greet, and if you are still worthy you send them some serious coin and you get a daschund-basset hound mix that you instantly love.
Then some time passes and as all puppies do they begin to settle in.
So the beagle has a serious case of separation anxiety so therefore as soon as I put my shoes on or grab my keys he begins shivering at the horrible dramatic idea that he could be left alone for a whole hour to lounge on his dog bed and mill around my shoppe. Epic I know.
So previously the only battle was beagle chewing trim, scratching doorknobs, taking healthy dumps just because he can, and simply going all out postal. So when asked, "does having another dog around help him with his anxiety?" The answer is "no, now I just have a puppy watching him going 'okay..okay..so that's how we handle our private time.'"
Let's just go over some of the recent findings I have discovered upon leaving Wienie alone: Apparently he has an avid interest in knitting as he continuously weasels his big head into the pockets of the recliner in the living room and takes out all my knitting and trails it all over the room and then proceeds to snack on my bamboo needles. Which weren't cheap and could easily spear him if he isn't careful. These knitting needles look like something left behind by buffy the vampire slayer. (and I'm talking Kristy Swanson not that poser Sarah Michelle Gellar)... anyhow I digress.
I told him if it is absolutely necessary I will enroll him in a community ed knitting course but for the time being I am left unraveling my beautiful wool yarn from in and around my living room furniture.
Then over the weekend my sister stopped to let them out as they had been alone for all of 4 hours apparently Wien decided to pull out some of my old CD's and spread them around everywhere. In this case it would have been nice if he would have taken the time to rip some of the songs I like onto my computer because I just haven't found the time or the patience. How inconsiderate.
Among other things he enjoys coffee filters, stir sticks, the contents of my purse, Nolan's now amputee Sir Angus toy, batteries (that one involved some internet research), my underwear, empty toilet paper rolls, anything cardboard and my newspaper basket is obviously the most delicious snack ever.
This one is currently topping the charts though. He manages to squeeze his over-sized head into the box of coiled cotton in my shoppe and then removes miles of it, tears it up, potentially lays on it and by the time I get in to survey the damages it looks like a snowstorm has occurred in the southern hemisphere of my shoppe.
Kennel them you say?
Oh I have gone that route. The beagle who was a born escape artist frees himself from his metal crate by doing a spastic maneuver of some sort. Upon release he heads to wienie's kennel and using his few teeth he has left squeezes the opening to Wien's kennel and releases him as well. I can't decide whether to commend them for their perseverance or knock their heads together!
God bless em' they keep life interesting.
Not even kidding.
Sunday, May 20, 2012
Ok fine I'll put some pants on.
This title is what I said to myself about twenty minutes ago. I had been spending this lazy,rainy Sunday morning lying in bed with Kerry the Bagel and Queenie (also known as Hairy the Beagle and Weinie his comical sidekick as pronounced by Jayke's adorable niece Khloey), finishing off another great Elin Hilderbrand novel and swigging down black coffee from my old navy insulated mug who's design is slightly wrinkled because someone, and I'm not going to mention any names, put it in the dishwasher even though it is notably not dishwasher safe.
Isn't this just what rainy Sunday's should be for? I "slept in" until 7:30... clearly a sign that I'm getting older. Won't be long and I'll be eating prunes while I wait for the gas station to open so I can get my Sunday paper. Probably bitching about hip pain and wondering why people just aren't on time these days.
I long to be that cool old lady. The one with the long gray braid driving a vintage convertible VW bug. The one who still remembers what it was like to be young. The one who is confident that the world isn't really going to hell in a hand-basket.
I was listening to a podcast one day while I was walking that said that you have 5 people. These are the 5 people in your life that you spend the most time with. These five people can make all the difference in how enjoyable your life is. If they are positive you are more likely to be positive as well as negative. If they look at things a certain way over time you are likely to look at things in the same light. I started thinking, "who are my five people?" Are they bettering me? Am I bettering them? The answer was yes. We have so many influences in our lives. My mom always said that choosing the right person to marry could be a deciding factor in how happy your life would be.
My mom worked as the school librarian. But she was more like a mom and a friend to every high school kid at my school. There were many days when I would tell my friends, "I don't know. Let's go ask my mom." My mom held tissues for many of my friends when they thought they would never get past high school dramas. My mom made kids laugh and unite on different levels even though they were part of completely different crowds. She discussed music, books, celebrities, the future the past and anything that they wanted to open up about. She drug the old box TV in the library on 9/11 and watched the destruction happening with the kids. She made a mark. These "kids" who are not kids anymore still find me all the time and ask me how my mom is doing. They tell me that she got them into reading, that she made them laugh, that she listened to them when no one else would. Was I ever jealous or tired of sharing? Nope. Because I was the lucky one who had someone to listen to me all the time. Not just between the hours of 8 and 3.
These five people that you have could be anyone. You can choose who yours are that's the great part.
My friend Molly is not in the five because I don't get to see her enough to say I spend enough time with her. She is a busy lady running a Coffeehouse and making me so proud all the time. She is indefinitely one of the most positive people I know. After I spend a day with Molly I look at everything with more appreciation. She is one of the most appreciative people and it rubs off. She has this non-cheesy way of always seeing the good in things. Some people are fake Molly is not. She is the real McCoy. She's like a character in a novel that you love but she really exists. We have been best friends since 1st grade and we have had our ups and downs as any friendship does. Starting with her anger at me for cutting off my long hair that matched her long hair before second grade and ending with adult battles over things that looking back were so stupid I can't believe we were dumb enough to be mad about them. For the last several years we have learned to lean on eachother, to share our problems and not try to be perfect and happy if we really aren't. It has made a better bond than ever. There really is nothing I can't tell her and vice-versa.
On the 11th of June it will be two things. My Mom's birthday and two years to the day I moved out of my beautiful cape cod home and into my ancient shop to separate from my ex-husband. One of the biggest lessons I learned in this journey is that the people who truly love you only want to see you happy. Did my leaving make life any easier for my mom or molly? Hell no. By having my back they had people turn their backs to them. For this I will be forever indebted. There are people in your life that will stand behind you no matter what decisions you make, no matter how far you fall, no matter how deep you hurt. I am so very fortunate to have many of these. And once I made my leap good things started to happen. I realized that I wasn't a complete failure for leaving my marriage I was only trying to be true to myself. I knew what I wanted and for years I thought I had it. I had a gorgeous house, a happy husband, a healthy son and a lonely heart. I saw other couples out biking, camping, holding hands, arguing over paint colors, doing home improvement projects together, running side by side, and I was consumed with jealousy. I wanted that. I needed that. I realized that I had sold myself short. I had everything I wanted except someone to enjoy it with. I think I broke his heart and I can't help but feel sad about that. I asked time and time again to spend more time together and the promises were always broken. That's when I realized I was wasting time. We only have so much time in this life to love someone else. If I wasted my days alone when what I wanted was to be half of a whole I was only cheating myself.
Two years ago I packed up my heart and moved on.
I've met someone new now. Someone who argues with me daily, someone who never leaves without saying I love you. Someone who bought a kayak after his first outing just to be by my side. He's someone who listens to me rant, laughs at me when I pull my pajama pants way up and walk around like a dork. He goes on bike rides with me, we have campfires together. I am sharing my life, he is sharing his. It is scary and wonderful.
Turns out I might just have someone next to me someday when I get up early to get the paper (and some prunes) in my VW. :) ..................Not even kidding.
Isn't this just what rainy Sunday's should be for? I "slept in" until 7:30... clearly a sign that I'm getting older. Won't be long and I'll be eating prunes while I wait for the gas station to open so I can get my Sunday paper. Probably bitching about hip pain and wondering why people just aren't on time these days.
I long to be that cool old lady. The one with the long gray braid driving a vintage convertible VW bug. The one who still remembers what it was like to be young. The one who is confident that the world isn't really going to hell in a hand-basket.
I was listening to a podcast one day while I was walking that said that you have 5 people. These are the 5 people in your life that you spend the most time with. These five people can make all the difference in how enjoyable your life is. If they are positive you are more likely to be positive as well as negative. If they look at things a certain way over time you are likely to look at things in the same light. I started thinking, "who are my five people?" Are they bettering me? Am I bettering them? The answer was yes. We have so many influences in our lives. My mom always said that choosing the right person to marry could be a deciding factor in how happy your life would be.
My mom worked as the school librarian. But she was more like a mom and a friend to every high school kid at my school. There were many days when I would tell my friends, "I don't know. Let's go ask my mom." My mom held tissues for many of my friends when they thought they would never get past high school dramas. My mom made kids laugh and unite on different levels even though they were part of completely different crowds. She discussed music, books, celebrities, the future the past and anything that they wanted to open up about. She drug the old box TV in the library on 9/11 and watched the destruction happening with the kids. She made a mark. These "kids" who are not kids anymore still find me all the time and ask me how my mom is doing. They tell me that she got them into reading, that she made them laugh, that she listened to them when no one else would. Was I ever jealous or tired of sharing? Nope. Because I was the lucky one who had someone to listen to me all the time. Not just between the hours of 8 and 3.
These five people that you have could be anyone. You can choose who yours are that's the great part.
My friend Molly is not in the five because I don't get to see her enough to say I spend enough time with her. She is a busy lady running a Coffeehouse and making me so proud all the time. She is indefinitely one of the most positive people I know. After I spend a day with Molly I look at everything with more appreciation. She is one of the most appreciative people and it rubs off. She has this non-cheesy way of always seeing the good in things. Some people are fake Molly is not. She is the real McCoy. She's like a character in a novel that you love but she really exists. We have been best friends since 1st grade and we have had our ups and downs as any friendship does. Starting with her anger at me for cutting off my long hair that matched her long hair before second grade and ending with adult battles over things that looking back were so stupid I can't believe we were dumb enough to be mad about them. For the last several years we have learned to lean on eachother, to share our problems and not try to be perfect and happy if we really aren't. It has made a better bond than ever. There really is nothing I can't tell her and vice-versa.
On the 11th of June it will be two things. My Mom's birthday and two years to the day I moved out of my beautiful cape cod home and into my ancient shop to separate from my ex-husband. One of the biggest lessons I learned in this journey is that the people who truly love you only want to see you happy. Did my leaving make life any easier for my mom or molly? Hell no. By having my back they had people turn their backs to them. For this I will be forever indebted. There are people in your life that will stand behind you no matter what decisions you make, no matter how far you fall, no matter how deep you hurt. I am so very fortunate to have many of these. And once I made my leap good things started to happen. I realized that I wasn't a complete failure for leaving my marriage I was only trying to be true to myself. I knew what I wanted and for years I thought I had it. I had a gorgeous house, a happy husband, a healthy son and a lonely heart. I saw other couples out biking, camping, holding hands, arguing over paint colors, doing home improvement projects together, running side by side, and I was consumed with jealousy. I wanted that. I needed that. I realized that I had sold myself short. I had everything I wanted except someone to enjoy it with. I think I broke his heart and I can't help but feel sad about that. I asked time and time again to spend more time together and the promises were always broken. That's when I realized I was wasting time. We only have so much time in this life to love someone else. If I wasted my days alone when what I wanted was to be half of a whole I was only cheating myself.
Two years ago I packed up my heart and moved on.
I've met someone new now. Someone who argues with me daily, someone who never leaves without saying I love you. Someone who bought a kayak after his first outing just to be by my side. He's someone who listens to me rant, laughs at me when I pull my pajama pants way up and walk around like a dork. He goes on bike rides with me, we have campfires together. I am sharing my life, he is sharing his. It is scary and wonderful.
Turns out I might just have someone next to me someday when I get up early to get the paper (and some prunes) in my VW. :) ..................Not even kidding.
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
Today I did something that I haven't done since I was 19 (no mom I did not get another tattoo on my toe:).
Today I got out of bed grabbed by ipod, my book and my messenger bag and hopped on my bike. I rode all the way to Moose Lake in the morning sunshine on the lovely Willard Munger Trail. I threw on some tunes from my boy Jack Johnson (who still doesn't respond to my requests of marriage) and set off on the trail on my pink cruiser bike that was spray painted by yours truly.
I have been running to train for the Grandma's Half Marathon but I was ready to switch it up today. My route was about 18 miles. I toodled my way into Moose Lake and then realized how famished I was. I headed into market place and came out with some fresh fruit, some bagels, and a SOBE beverage. As many of you know I stand behind my latest diet of beef sticks, almonds and string cheese however occasionally one must falter. I grabbed my goodies and headed back to my favorite bench near the river. It is a great spot because it looks out on a grand opening of the water and today as luck would have it there were a couple of good looking mallards hanging out. As luck wouldn't have it some fella had the nerve to p ark his behinder on my bench. So I had to pretend to be a photographer who stopped for a drink until he was either A) Done with his rest or B) Creeped out by me the potential homeless chick carrying a bag of groceries on her bike. Needless to say he moved on and I parked myself and my breakfast on "my bench" which to be honest has seen her better days. A large portion on one side is missing and it has all sorts of stuff carved in it. So basically we're made for each other.
This is the same bench that I biked to and rollerbladed to in the past. I started thinking why it had been so long since I had done this. Well there were many reasons. Work, my son, many projects that could be worked on. It made me think that the things that we enjoy at 19 are the same things we really enjoy at 29 but we stop prioritizing them. They become those things that you think "oh yeah I should do that again" or you see someone else doing that and you bitterly think "must be nice to be them". Why is it that we stop saying yes to things we want to do and start saying yes to things we don't want to do. Guilt, perhaps? And what do we achieve by doing this... resentment.
I have met some really amazing people doing what I do. Honestly there are some of them that I look at my book for the day and I think "YES!" because I know that we will have awesome conversations about real things and we will laugh and sometimes cry but always will find comfort in sharing our lives. Many of them "Get It". They might not get to do what they want when they want all the time but they have realized that they have the power to choose how happy they are.
I realize that I am an adult. I have a business to run. I have a house to clean, a yard to mow, a son to raise but that doesn't mean I can't find ways to have some peaceful me time. Today that was what it was about. And in doing so I feel that the other avenues of my life benefit.
So today I leave you with an excerpt from something that my brother had laminated in his belongings when we were going through his stuff we found and it has become a bit of a mantra... not even kidding. So enjoy:
"One final paragraph of advice: Do not burn yourself out. Be as I am - a reluctant enthusiast... a part time crusader, a half-hearted fanatic. Save the other half of yourselves and your lives for pleasure and adventure. It is not enough to fight for the land; it is even more important to enjoy it. While you can. While it is still there. So get out there and mess around with your friends, ramble out yonder and explore the forrest, encounter the grizz, climb the mountains, run the rivers, breathe deep of that sweet and lucid air, sit quietly for awhile and contemplate the precious stillness, that lovely mysterious and awesome space. Enjoy yourselves, keep your brain in your head and your head firmly attached to your body, the body active and alive and I promise you this much: I promise you this one sweet victory over our enemies, over those desk bound people with their hearts in a safety deposit box and their eyes hypnotized by desk calculators. I promise you this: you will outlive the bastards."
Today I got out of bed grabbed by ipod, my book and my messenger bag and hopped on my bike. I rode all the way to Moose Lake in the morning sunshine on the lovely Willard Munger Trail. I threw on some tunes from my boy Jack Johnson (who still doesn't respond to my requests of marriage) and set off on the trail on my pink cruiser bike that was spray painted by yours truly.
I have been running to train for the Grandma's Half Marathon but I was ready to switch it up today. My route was about 18 miles. I toodled my way into Moose Lake and then realized how famished I was. I headed into market place and came out with some fresh fruit, some bagels, and a SOBE beverage. As many of you know I stand behind my latest diet of beef sticks, almonds and string cheese however occasionally one must falter. I grabbed my goodies and headed back to my favorite bench near the river. It is a great spot because it looks out on a grand opening of the water and today as luck would have it there were a couple of good looking mallards hanging out. As luck wouldn't have it some fella had the nerve to p ark his behinder on my bench. So I had to pretend to be a photographer who stopped for a drink until he was either A) Done with his rest or B) Creeped out by me the potential homeless chick carrying a bag of groceries on her bike. Needless to say he moved on and I parked myself and my breakfast on "my bench" which to be honest has seen her better days. A large portion on one side is missing and it has all sorts of stuff carved in it. So basically we're made for each other.
This is the same bench that I biked to and rollerbladed to in the past. I started thinking why it had been so long since I had done this. Well there were many reasons. Work, my son, many projects that could be worked on. It made me think that the things that we enjoy at 19 are the same things we really enjoy at 29 but we stop prioritizing them. They become those things that you think "oh yeah I should do that again" or you see someone else doing that and you bitterly think "must be nice to be them". Why is it that we stop saying yes to things we want to do and start saying yes to things we don't want to do. Guilt, perhaps? And what do we achieve by doing this... resentment.
I have met some really amazing people doing what I do. Honestly there are some of them that I look at my book for the day and I think "YES!" because I know that we will have awesome conversations about real things and we will laugh and sometimes cry but always will find comfort in sharing our lives. Many of them "Get It". They might not get to do what they want when they want all the time but they have realized that they have the power to choose how happy they are.
I realize that I am an adult. I have a business to run. I have a house to clean, a yard to mow, a son to raise but that doesn't mean I can't find ways to have some peaceful me time. Today that was what it was about. And in doing so I feel that the other avenues of my life benefit.
So today I leave you with an excerpt from something that my brother had laminated in his belongings when we were going through his stuff we found and it has become a bit of a mantra... not even kidding. So enjoy:
"One final paragraph of advice: Do not burn yourself out. Be as I am - a reluctant enthusiast... a part time crusader, a half-hearted fanatic. Save the other half of yourselves and your lives for pleasure and adventure. It is not enough to fight for the land; it is even more important to enjoy it. While you can. While it is still there. So get out there and mess around with your friends, ramble out yonder and explore the forrest, encounter the grizz, climb the mountains, run the rivers, breathe deep of that sweet and lucid air, sit quietly for awhile and contemplate the precious stillness, that lovely mysterious and awesome space. Enjoy yourselves, keep your brain in your head and your head firmly attached to your body, the body active and alive and I promise you this much: I promise you this one sweet victory over our enemies, over those desk bound people with their hearts in a safety deposit box and their eyes hypnotized by desk calculators. I promise you this: you will outlive the bastards."
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Peace Rockin' in the Glamper
The title of this is Peace Rockin' in the Glamper for two important reasons. Number one my brother used to come into my room all the time and look around at the fairy lights and the zodiac charts and the incense and shrug his shoulders and say "God, you are SUCH a peace-rocker". Not sure if that was good or not. My room was often a highlight of the home tour for our household. I had tourquoise walls, furniture with poetry painted on it, enough clear lights to outdo the Christmas Display at Menards, a poster of Melissa Etheridge (that I got as a gift from a friend and later realized all through high school it probably made me look like I was playing for the other team), more candles than Yankee, Cranberries music playing but occasionally letting Alanis Morrisette sneak in with a few angry lyrics, dried roses hung from the ceiling... are you getting a visual now? It was like entering Narnia. I loved it and I am amazed how much my parents let my creative energy fly even if it was a fire hazard.
Secondly this whole "glamper" terminology created solely by my mother to state how glamorous our old camper was has taken on a new life this week. I am happy to report that my renovations of the Peace Rockin' Glamper are nearly complete! Now I can be released into the dollar store to get the accessories!
The plan started out without a plan really. I went over to my parents one day to clean the camper and come up with a plan. Now mind you upon arrival in my Jeep I had no receiver hitch so I was probably was not taking this shaggin' wagon home. My Dad who was more than willing to have it removed from his field STAT went directly to the shed and appeared with a receiver hitch from an old truck they didn't have anymore. Before my very eyes he scrambled underneath the Jeep and began cranking away..... I returned home with not only a Glamper but a 1971 16 foot Model Grand Prix Lowliner. How do you like those apples?
Since I don't believe in any grass growth under the toes I took strait to my renovations. (and when I say renovations I mean paint paint and more paint and then sticky tiles and some light sewing and a dash of Pine Sol). Badda bing badda bamm badda boom the glamper is becoming a pretty sweet ride... except that you really aren't legally supposed to ride in them while you're moving but you smell what I'm steppin' in right?
I ordered the fabric for the curtains tonight and I can't wait to take it on the Maiden Voyage! I am even such a cool cat that I listened to the pandora station "road trippin' radio" the whole time (for inspirational purposes).
One of my final steps is this: My parents had this camper for about 15 years. Before this lovely beast came into our lives it was the product of Betty and Jack LaRock. Betty was a grandma at my school when I was in elementary and my mom used to take me to her and Jack's house all the time when I was a kid. I loved their house. They had homemade toys I had never seen before and cool things everywhere you looked. They are now in an assisted living facility together. Betty and Jack are cool people. They did all sorts of decorating when they had the camper too. So my plan is to make them a scrapbook of the restoration and send it to them with before and after photos. I think they might enjoy the fact that their camper is still out cruisin' the highways and checkin' out state parks. Not even kidding.
Also on a side note, not even kidding, I might drop kick my computer and my camera out into the yard because for the love of cheese I can't seem to upload a gall dang picture (or 24) of what I have been working on and trying to show you GRRR ... keep posted I may be reporting back (hopefully with images and not without electronic devices that no longer work due to said "drop-kick".)
Secondly this whole "glamper" terminology created solely by my mother to state how glamorous our old camper was has taken on a new life this week. I am happy to report that my renovations of the Peace Rockin' Glamper are nearly complete! Now I can be released into the dollar store to get the accessories!
The plan started out without a plan really. I went over to my parents one day to clean the camper and come up with a plan. Now mind you upon arrival in my Jeep I had no receiver hitch so I was probably was not taking this shaggin' wagon home. My Dad who was more than willing to have it removed from his field STAT went directly to the shed and appeared with a receiver hitch from an old truck they didn't have anymore. Before my very eyes he scrambled underneath the Jeep and began cranking away..... I returned home with not only a Glamper but a 1971 16 foot Model Grand Prix Lowliner. How do you like those apples?
Since I don't believe in any grass growth under the toes I took strait to my renovations. (and when I say renovations I mean paint paint and more paint and then sticky tiles and some light sewing and a dash of Pine Sol). Badda bing badda bamm badda boom the glamper is becoming a pretty sweet ride... except that you really aren't legally supposed to ride in them while you're moving but you smell what I'm steppin' in right?
I ordered the fabric for the curtains tonight and I can't wait to take it on the Maiden Voyage! I am even such a cool cat that I listened to the pandora station "road trippin' radio" the whole time (for inspirational purposes).
One of my final steps is this: My parents had this camper for about 15 years. Before this lovely beast came into our lives it was the product of Betty and Jack LaRock. Betty was a grandma at my school when I was in elementary and my mom used to take me to her and Jack's house all the time when I was a kid. I loved their house. They had homemade toys I had never seen before and cool things everywhere you looked. They are now in an assisted living facility together. Betty and Jack are cool people. They did all sorts of decorating when they had the camper too. So my plan is to make them a scrapbook of the restoration and send it to them with before and after photos. I think they might enjoy the fact that their camper is still out cruisin' the highways and checkin' out state parks. Not even kidding.
Also on a side note, not even kidding, I might drop kick my computer and my camera out into the yard because for the love of cheese I can't seem to upload a gall dang picture (or 24) of what I have been working on and trying to show you GRRR ... keep posted I may be reporting back (hopefully with images and not without electronic devices that no longer work due to said "drop-kick".)
Thursday, March 22, 2012
The best thing I have going.
So obviously I have been completely slacking on my posts. Which should come as no surprise as I haven't written in my journal for a coon's age. Which some would say is a good sign because often times if you see me writing in that I am most likely bitching incessantly about someone or something. Which is why they are fun to read and can only be published if I kick the can or all names are changed!!
I have the luck of having a four year old. He is spunky and dramatic (no idea where that comes from). He is hilarious and kind. Last weekend (and by that I mean thursday-monday we are lucky enough to have really long weekends together) we went outside and hardly came back in. We went four-wheeling, we camped out, we shopped, we went to church, we went out to eat, we walked, we played, we loved.
Sunday night he was in the bathtub and I was sitting on the toilet talking to him and I am not sure what brought it up but he said something about if he died. I said "don't do that because then Mom wouldn't have anything to live for" he says "yeah but you'd have Jayke and beagle" I said "but I wouldn't have you and then I wouldn't be me"
After sobbing my way through my mom's blog today it makes me think how she is the most amazing woman I know. She did go into a dark cave when my brother passed away but she has found her way out. That takes courage and strength. Not a lot of people could fight their way out of that.
I got pregnant with Nolan about five months after Mike's accident. I didn't know what I was having and I didn't want to know. He has been the best thing that ever happened to me. I watch him go about his life and there isn't a single day that goes by that I don't think or say," I wish mike could be here to see you". or "God Mike would have gotten such a kick out of you." Maybe he can, maybe he does I sure hope so. But I know one thing; I can and I do and I love.
Not even kidding.
I have the luck of having a four year old. He is spunky and dramatic (no idea where that comes from). He is hilarious and kind. Last weekend (and by that I mean thursday-monday we are lucky enough to have really long weekends together) we went outside and hardly came back in. We went four-wheeling, we camped out, we shopped, we went to church, we went out to eat, we walked, we played, we loved.
Sunday night he was in the bathtub and I was sitting on the toilet talking to him and I am not sure what brought it up but he said something about if he died. I said "don't do that because then Mom wouldn't have anything to live for" he says "yeah but you'd have Jayke and beagle" I said "but I wouldn't have you and then I wouldn't be me"
After sobbing my way through my mom's blog today it makes me think how she is the most amazing woman I know. She did go into a dark cave when my brother passed away but she has found her way out. That takes courage and strength. Not a lot of people could fight their way out of that.
I got pregnant with Nolan about five months after Mike's accident. I didn't know what I was having and I didn't want to know. He has been the best thing that ever happened to me. I watch him go about his life and there isn't a single day that goes by that I don't think or say," I wish mike could be here to see you". or "God Mike would have gotten such a kick out of you." Maybe he can, maybe he does I sure hope so. But I know one thing; I can and I do and I love.
Not even kidding.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Folgers and other follies
So I realize Folger's went to the Aroma Seal Can for a reason but I am sad to say it clearly isn't secure enough for me. I have been on a fairly clumsy role for let's see... oh my whole LIFE!! Today just takes the coffeecake. I was daydreaming about a business adventure with my sister (which she knows nothing about so keep it quiet) and walking across my shop with my economy size coffee can when it somehow slipped right out of my hand and went crashing to the floor leaving a black mountain of coffee grounds on a not-so-perfectly clean floor. DAMMIT!
For a person of less regular clumsiness this would probably not grind their gears as much as it did me. However since just Sunday I knocked over an entire canister of salt in the kitchen. I know what you're thinking and it simply isn't possible to cut salt and coffee out of my regimen besides I would find a way to spill even the healthiest granola... oh wait I probably have.
I think I know exactly where this streak started. Our yard is slightly covered in ice. The other day I was be-bopping out to my car probably singing some Taylor Swift outloud when I traveled accross a trechorous island of ice. Thus sending me into a break-dance I never knew I had. I caught myself and had a good chuckle and went about my day. However this one lucky break may have been the tip of the iceburg as far as follies were concerned.
Yesterday of course couldn't go without some minor mishap. Nolan and I went to the library, then Joe Jitter's for lunch and then to the rink for a little ice skating. At Joe jitters, the shoppers that we are, he managed to find a dinosaur book in the back and I found a dry erase, magnetic desk top thing. After a round of ice skating I climbed in the back seat to help him with his seat belt when I heard a gentle crunch. Oh yes the sound of my not-so-delicate ass crushing my new amazing desktop. Son-of-A!
Fear not! I will not let you lie awake worrying that I had to chuck my purchase. Everyone knows that with the right amount of packing tape (or hot glue in some cases) I can fix anything!!
Well I must go. I'm sure there is something around the house awaiting a break or a spill! Not even kidding.
Maybe next time I can tell you how I successfully dropped a gallon of paint down a staircase. It's mind boggling. :)
For a person of less regular clumsiness this would probably not grind their gears as much as it did me. However since just Sunday I knocked over an entire canister of salt in the kitchen. I know what you're thinking and it simply isn't possible to cut salt and coffee out of my regimen besides I would find a way to spill even the healthiest granola... oh wait I probably have.
I think I know exactly where this streak started. Our yard is slightly covered in ice. The other day I was be-bopping out to my car probably singing some Taylor Swift outloud when I traveled accross a trechorous island of ice. Thus sending me into a break-dance I never knew I had. I caught myself and had a good chuckle and went about my day. However this one lucky break may have been the tip of the iceburg as far as follies were concerned.
Yesterday of course couldn't go without some minor mishap. Nolan and I went to the library, then Joe Jitter's for lunch and then to the rink for a little ice skating. At Joe jitters, the shoppers that we are, he managed to find a dinosaur book in the back and I found a dry erase, magnetic desk top thing. After a round of ice skating I climbed in the back seat to help him with his seat belt when I heard a gentle crunch. Oh yes the sound of my not-so-delicate ass crushing my new amazing desktop. Son-of-A!
Fear not! I will not let you lie awake worrying that I had to chuck my purchase. Everyone knows that with the right amount of packing tape (or hot glue in some cases) I can fix anything!!
Well I must go. I'm sure there is something around the house awaiting a break or a spill! Not even kidding.
Maybe next time I can tell you how I successfully dropped a gallon of paint down a staircase. It's mind boggling. :)
Saturday, February 11, 2012
Health Kick? Or just kickin' ass?
So as usual I am about a day late and a dollar short. Everyone read The Help and then a month later I read it and was continually chattering about it. My guess is is their thoughts were... "um yeah where were you a month ago?" So my second late arrival bandwagon idea is .... brace yourself.... getting fit? No I did not say fat. Although that may have been part of the inspiration. :) I bartered with one of my lovely customers and found myself with a treadmill. The first week I started off walking at what I thought was an incredible rate. The next day.. completely sore. Sheesh I guess it was time! Now I'm up to running and yesterday I ran 3 miles!! Whoo hoo! The secret to success for me is the rediculous music I listen to when I run (or self-help audiobooks that are too embarassing to discuss). That's right on a regular day my music selection is peaceful. I like Corrine Bailey Ray, Bob Marley, Norah Jones, Ingrid Michaelson ect... however when I am out kickin' ass I need more. That is when I unleash my good friends Eminem, Limp Biscuit, and Rob Zombie. I mean you just can't kick ass to harp music.
Which made me think about music and how you need different flavors for different times. People that listen to the same genre 24/7 are simply missin' out. People always think I am kidding when I tell them that before christmas I listen to christmas music all day and then I need to cleanse the pallet at the end of the day with Metallica. Ana and I always wondered why metallica could get away with putting an "oh" at the end of regular words... such as whiskey in the Jar..oh. She could take a Kenney Chesey song and turn it into a metallica song just by adding an "oh". It is comical and entertaining to say the least.
Last fall I joined a line dancing group. After claiming I wanted to for such a long time one night I just got up the gusto and showed up. It has been one of the most fun things I have ever joined. Last tuesday we danced for three hours. We have been trying songs to different dances and this week I insisted we do one of our dances to lose control my missy elliott it was fabulous! It's exercise without the boring part. I'm still a beginner and at times I put myself on a time out and go sit back at the table because I don't always catch on to certain dances right away. (I claim it is because I am left handed and they are right foot dances.. however it could just be a white-girl-can't-dance situation.) For the most part however it is a blast.
The other part of this glorious health kick is that I've decided to get back into vitamins. I did a little internet research and discussed it with my health contious best-friend Molly and now am trying dilligently to choke down those horrible things every day.
So I know it's February and most people get fit in January but I guess as with all things I am dancing to my own beat.
So I'll be out kickin' ass to old rap songs and throwing back vitamins until next time!
Which made me think about music and how you need different flavors for different times. People that listen to the same genre 24/7 are simply missin' out. People always think I am kidding when I tell them that before christmas I listen to christmas music all day and then I need to cleanse the pallet at the end of the day with Metallica. Ana and I always wondered why metallica could get away with putting an "oh" at the end of regular words... such as whiskey in the Jar..oh. She could take a Kenney Chesey song and turn it into a metallica song just by adding an "oh". It is comical and entertaining to say the least.
Last fall I joined a line dancing group. After claiming I wanted to for such a long time one night I just got up the gusto and showed up. It has been one of the most fun things I have ever joined. Last tuesday we danced for three hours. We have been trying songs to different dances and this week I insisted we do one of our dances to lose control my missy elliott it was fabulous! It's exercise without the boring part. I'm still a beginner and at times I put myself on a time out and go sit back at the table because I don't always catch on to certain dances right away. (I claim it is because I am left handed and they are right foot dances.. however it could just be a white-girl-can't-dance situation.) For the most part however it is a blast.
The other part of this glorious health kick is that I've decided to get back into vitamins. I did a little internet research and discussed it with my health contious best-friend Molly and now am trying dilligently to choke down those horrible things every day.
So I know it's February and most people get fit in January but I guess as with all things I am dancing to my own beat.
So I'll be out kickin' ass to old rap songs and throwing back vitamins until next time!
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
My First Wild Game
So I started that as a title and then thought to myself... that sounds a little dirty. So of course it must stay! Last night Jayke and I headed to the MN Wild game in St. Paul. I don't follow hockey or sports in general but he likes it and so I got him tickets and a hotel stay for what I started referring to as his "Birthday Spectacular". We headed down around noon and decided to stop at Tanger Outlet to do some bumming. I did the classic loser move and read a clearance sign wrong in bath and body works and had to walk away from my entire purchase which was extra silly since I spent a half an hour sniffing every collection until I settled on my keepers. Smooth Heidi.
Upon arriving at our hotel we decided to find a liquor store nearby so we had some beverages to take with us to the hot tub. This little jaunt found us at some random chinese restuarant bar that we peeked in and realized "Nope this ain't it". After a cocktail and a swim we headed to Cassetta's where I was reccomended by one of my customers to go. She was right the pizza was amazing!
At game time we headed to excel and found ourselves in the collectible shop. Note that Jayke and I should never be released into a place like that because we came out of there with hockey sticks for the boys, t-shirts for the boys, a t-shirt for me and a giant claw. I felt like Jim Carey in Dumb and Dumber when he goes to get the "essentials" with the last of their money.
So we watched the game I made friends with the two 8year olds I was sitting next too and they gladly mowed down the rest of my popcorn when I was full. I even told who I thought were their parents how cute they were. Only to find out that wasn't their parents. Whoopsies. Apparently the parents were in the row behind us.
Now I may not be a hockey expert... clearly not since I was waiting for a fourth period. But I know me my "Wally the beerman" when I see him. And yes I got a picture and an autograph.
After the game we headed to the "cop bar". Where the bartenders wear less than the hooters girls and the beer flows like the salmon of cappostrona. Of course we made friends with 8 guys from Brainerd who drove their Winnebago down for the game. I will say that McGolden did bring out the Doctor Phil side and essentially my mouth was running rampant. Good times.
I was thinking that you might be a redneck if you have to move your winnebago every few hours to keep it from being towed however if we had a motorhome I could easily see us doing the same thing. Not even kidding. :)
Upon arriving at our hotel we decided to find a liquor store nearby so we had some beverages to take with us to the hot tub. This little jaunt found us at some random chinese restuarant bar that we peeked in and realized "Nope this ain't it". After a cocktail and a swim we headed to Cassetta's where I was reccomended by one of my customers to go. She was right the pizza was amazing!
At game time we headed to excel and found ourselves in the collectible shop. Note that Jayke and I should never be released into a place like that because we came out of there with hockey sticks for the boys, t-shirts for the boys, a t-shirt for me and a giant claw. I felt like Jim Carey in Dumb and Dumber when he goes to get the "essentials" with the last of their money.
So we watched the game I made friends with the two 8year olds I was sitting next too and they gladly mowed down the rest of my popcorn when I was full. I even told who I thought were their parents how cute they were. Only to find out that wasn't their parents. Whoopsies. Apparently the parents were in the row behind us.
Now I may not be a hockey expert... clearly not since I was waiting for a fourth period. But I know me my "Wally the beerman" when I see him. And yes I got a picture and an autograph.
After the game we headed to the "cop bar". Where the bartenders wear less than the hooters girls and the beer flows like the salmon of cappostrona. Of course we made friends with 8 guys from Brainerd who drove their Winnebago down for the game. I will say that McGolden did bring out the Doctor Phil side and essentially my mouth was running rampant. Good times.
Saturday, January 28, 2012
Friday, January 27, 2012
The Beags McSqueags up to no good.
So it is a lovely Friday afternoon. I find myself with an hour between appointments so I decided to get on the family bandwagon and join the blogging world! Yikes.
I am comfortably seated in my shoppe jammin' to some Norah Jones Pandora selections and thinking I probably should be cleaning or flossing or something productive but nah.
I decided to call my blog not even kidding because I thought I could share some of the rediculous shenanigans I find myself in on a regular basis.
This weeks interesting events include my bi-polar Beagle. He thought it would be a magnificent plan on sunday while we were gone for all of three hours and he had the house to himself that he should go ahead and chew up part of the window frame. (Mind you he is 3 weeks in on his anxiety meds and I have seen slim to no results. He is still the same neurotic freak as before.) This window I speak of was only in October and as we all know windows are not cheap!
Aside from having a good old fashioned sit-down with him. We since decided to do some welding on his kennel that he broke a tooth on he was so busy trying to escape from. He has become a master escape artist. I would most certainly just leave him loose in the house while I am gone. (which isn't much since I live and work here!) However he then takes it personally still and usually takes a lovely dump in his favorite place... oh wait no it's mine... my carpeted walk-in closet. The vet says he suffers from seperation anxiety and we are working on it. My mother says he suffers from Drama-Queen-Pathetic Syndrome. I would have to side with both myself.
You wouldn't know he is a total freak right now as he is basking away on my favorite blanket on the couch. I realize this is typically a depressing time of year however he really could do some evaluating of his life.
Not even kidding.
Until next Time.
Heidi
I am comfortably seated in my shoppe jammin' to some Norah Jones Pandora selections and thinking I probably should be cleaning or flossing or something productive but nah.
I decided to call my blog not even kidding because I thought I could share some of the rediculous shenanigans I find myself in on a regular basis.
This weeks interesting events include my bi-polar Beagle. He thought it would be a magnificent plan on sunday while we were gone for all of three hours and he had the house to himself that he should go ahead and chew up part of the window frame. (Mind you he is 3 weeks in on his anxiety meds and I have seen slim to no results. He is still the same neurotic freak as before.) This window I speak of was only in October and as we all know windows are not cheap!
Aside from having a good old fashioned sit-down with him. We since decided to do some welding on his kennel that he broke a tooth on he was so busy trying to escape from. He has become a master escape artist. I would most certainly just leave him loose in the house while I am gone. (which isn't much since I live and work here!) However he then takes it personally still and usually takes a lovely dump in his favorite place... oh wait no it's mine... my carpeted walk-in closet. The vet says he suffers from seperation anxiety and we are working on it. My mother says he suffers from Drama-Queen-Pathetic Syndrome. I would have to side with both myself.
You wouldn't know he is a total freak right now as he is basking away on my favorite blanket on the couch. I realize this is typically a depressing time of year however he really could do some evaluating of his life.
Not even kidding.
Until next Time.
Heidi
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