I just realized I haven't written in my blog for a long time. I've been a little 'tied up' with some other things. :) Dance season for one, having a garage sale, (Blog post about THAT to come) a bunch of other stuff... and reading the fucking 50 Shades trilogy that bothered me, intrigued me, bewildered me... and gave me a bad case of the 'what the fucks'. (Not to mention the yeast infection and Bacterial Vaginosis I got... just from reading it) If you haven't succumbed and read "50 Shades Of Grey" yet... props to you. If you are planning on it... make sure you are ready. As it says overandoverandover in these books "We aim to please".
I gave in about a month ago. I had a few friends reading it, and talking about it non stop. Calling each other 'Miss so and so' and quoting the 6, redundant, phrases that are used overandocerandover in the books. But, what really got me, was all of the dance moms started reading it. I felt left out and kinda curious... and I figured it can't be as gross and BDSMish as I thought, or the church-going mom with 6 kids SURELY wouldn't be reading it. Right? Boy was I wrong. (I never knew I knew so many closet perverts) :)
Book one was obviously the beginning. It went a little something like this:
Awkward, shy girl... who blushes all the fricken time, is sent to do an interview with a filthy rich, hotter than Hell, bachelor. She even cleverly trips into his office, cuz she is just so awkward. Then she blushes. He is immediately smitten and follows/stalks her and they begin dating. There is a lot of lip biting on her end. (Like... a lot of lip biting) and he runs his fingers through his hair so often that I'm pretty sure he has got to be suffering from self inflicted Alopecia. I'm pretty sure her incessant blushing is going to cause Rosacea as well. They are constantly 'looking through their lashes' at each other, (I mean... is that even physically possible?) and they have a lot of sex. Like a crazy... 4 times a day, every day, 'your lady biz has got to be inside out by now', amount of sex. He introduces her (And most of the female population ages 18-45) to the BDSM lifestyle. She is his sub and he is her dom. There are rules, a pedophile from his past, contracts, lots of fighting about when she will eat, more lip biting (It just drives him crazy and stuff), tons of blushing, and the first time in the Red Room Of Pain. Now, I'm no virgin, and I'm pretty sure I have seen a few things in my day, so I wasn't sure why I had the reaction I did to this playroom part. For that whole week, every person that made eye contact with me, was immediately in my mind, a dirty 'flogger' in the privacy of their own home. Everyone but me. It pissed me off, and made me feel like I was really missin' out on the good stuff. I was even plotting where I was gonna put my own 'Red Room Of Pain'. (Do the kids actually ever GO in the shed? I mean... I've never seen them GO in there... so...) :) There wasn't much of a plot in the first book, just mostly him grabbing her, taunting her, grazing her 'sex' with his thumb, and his 'erection' springing all over the place. (Not sure why those 2 words now bug me more than anything... the Author needed to step it up a bit with the wording. Nobody actually says that. FYI... It's weird.) I was completely fascinated and not yet annoyed by the repetitive writing, and the over usage of words like 'My Mercurial Man' and 'Errant behavior'. I may even have blushed a few times. He is her mercurial, Greek God, Fifty... and she is his errant Ana.. HIS. And it gets real creepy how 'his' she is. (Or... maybe it's just me...) Of course they break up at the end, so you just HAVE to spent 20 bucks on the next book of ill-written smut :) But who wouldn't? He IS sexy... and rich... and so sexy... and he grabs her 'sex' a bunch. Must. Read. On.
I feverishly begin book 2... in the middle of the night. What is wrong with me?
I believe that book 2 is when they introduce the infamous silver balls. (Don't quote me... it all runs together in the middle of the night). I want those. Anyhoo... They get back together, he makes her eat a bunch, buys her some more stuff, and they have a bunch of sex. She explodes around him... and then blushes. Mr. Bossypants braids her hair, she bites her lip, they look through lashes, they email a bunch, they 'aim to please', and she makes a lot of 'good points, well somethingorother.' (I'm starting to skim) There is a helicopter debacle, and she can't bare to lose him. He can't bare to lose her. It makes her blush. They go have sex. Suddenly, something weird happens. I'm super pissed. Out of nowhere, in my mind, Christian has red hair and cig burns all over his chest... and a hairy... self? And she likes him? He needs to learn how to not be such an overbearing asshole. I'm like... mad at him. He's pouting... then she's pouting... and there is a lot of "SHIT! I made him mad!" And "FUCK.... he's pissed". Who cares, you male dependent idiot? Ok... thankfully the plot thickens (If you can call it that) and I'm still reading. Thank God for that crazy Jack man. There are some more lash peaking episodes and her 'sex' has got to be bruised by now from all the sexcapades. Ugh... She's gonna marry him? But he's so... mercurial. (Again) Self proclaimed 50 shades of fucked up. RUN, ANA! He bought your job! Please let there be a reason for this 'story'.
Book 3... Now I've invested and I have to keep going. Or... do I have to? Will someone just tell me what happens?If I read the words "Laters, baby" one more time... I will croak.
They have gotten married and gone on a honeymoon. She is topless for a hot second... and he almost kills her. She is HIS! I am starting to hate his red headed ass. He calls her fat. I hate him. His erection probably smells. SHOCK... He's pissed again... there is a lot of pouting in the tub and shower. (Ok... maybe his erection doesn't reek... but whatever...) The plot is set aside for some more sex. Then there is some more... sex. Ican'tbelieveI'mstillreadingthis. Somewhere around the part where she has gotten him to let her touch him (On his cig burns.. and she's bawling?)... I lose interest completely. He's all mushy and weird... and they are all emo. I miss the O.C. (Original Christian) the one who was hot, rich, and kind of an intriguing dink. and I'm just plain sick of it. I set aside 2 hours to just get it out of the way, and I skim the last half of the book. I think they have babies... I know they bought a house, they went clubbing? There is that crazy Jack again (To the rescue, from the reader's standpoint) There was some more fighting... and hold on to your hats.... they humped a bunch.
I realize I am no book connoisseur. Nor am I an avid reader. The last books I read were the Hunger Games. And... before that... The Witching Hour. I was in High School. :) These are just my thoughts... and I'm sure not everyone will agree. I know some ladies who were smitten from page one, all the way through to page 6,000. (Or... what felt like that) :) I'm glad I got through it, though... I feel like I accomplished something. And... you should hear my Sister's and my conversations about it. I have never laughed so hard :) I would like to thank Mr. Grey for all of his conversation starters, and ideas. (My Husband thanks him too) :) If you need me... I'll be in the shed... plotting... for my flogging :)
Laters, Baby :)
Monday, June 4, 2012
Saturday, March 31, 2012
The Truth About Dance... And Some Other Stuff.
Every Tuesday night, when my Daughter gets home from dance... we watch the show "Dance Moms". I watch it, only because, my kid wants to. (I swear it's not because I'm inappropriately obsessed with how a morbidly obese woman, who can barely get around, has such a talented team that actually pay her to treat them like crap... And.. Her voice? It is like... a dying seal... with an attitude. I hate her.) I'm not sure how to reiterate how bizarre that show is to me. My Daughter has been involved in competition dance for 5 years now, and it is a huge part of our lives... whether we want it to be or not. Dance, like any other sport/activity, is extremely time consuming, and an entity all its own. Shows like "Dance Moms" have given it a bad wrap.... and it kinda bugs. I'm actually kind of pissed that they portray dance in such a way that makes people secretly, and behind my back, ridicule and judge me. If that was really what it was like, and Abby Lee was yelling her fat ass off at my kid... mark my words... my kid would play some other sport. A sport that would take up JUST as much time, energy and money as dance... but that she wouldn't dig nearly as much. I feel like I have spent the last 5 years justifying her activity of choice, and I'm just... over it. Yes, she wears stage makeup. Yes, her costumes are vaguely 'baby stripper' like, sometimes. And... we have weekend long competitions. So what? It's not your kid. I don't judge you because your kid chases a ball around a soccer field, in 90 degree weather, until they pass out, or have a severe sunburn. I also don't judge parents who let their prepubescent sons... wear a wrestling get up... and roll around with other boys on a mat. I have a girlfriend whose son wrestles. She would rather have him wear some of my daughter's costumes, than that skin tight, all revealing, accidental boner showing off, suit. She told me so. I'm a hairstylist. It is not out of the realm of normalcy that my kid would be dolled up, and shakin' her booty. :)
My Daughter is obsessed with 3 things... Dance, gymnastics, and Justin Bieber. And when I say obsessed, I mean... obsessed. She is not the kid who plays soccer or softball. Those things would never interest her. Hockey, to her, is a 'boy sport'. It requires profuse sweating, acne, pushing, spinal injuries.... and bad hair. She likes to go to her brother's hockey games... drink hot chocolate and cheer him on. (I'd be lying if I said she doesn't enjoy running around and flirting with all the boys that are off the ice as well. She's 10 and related to me. I passed that down vaginally, I think. I'll deal with that some other time...) He does the same for her. Just like any other Brother/Sister team... they are supportive of each other's choices. She thinks hockey is dumb... he would never dance. Isn't that why you teach your kids to follow their dreams? It's up to them to decide what makes them happy? Justin Bieber is coming between them more than anything right now, actually. My daughter has a bedroom covered in Biebs pictures, posters, calendars etc... and an ipod full of his music, that she blares regularly. My Son has a sign on his door that says "Jutsin Beebre Is the werst". She hates it. :) He has an ipod full of pictures and videos of his sister... doing various, impressive tricks and dance moves. Just not to Bieber tunes...
Like everyone else, who has given me shit for years, I wasn't completely educated on what I was getting into with the whole Competition Dance thing. I just knew that it had to be better than rec dance. She started with rec, and it was just not the right fit. The recital, albeit cute, was almost embarrassing. There were girls standing there, picking tights out of their crotches, feverishly looking for Mom and Dad in the audience, and having no clue what steps they were supposed to be doing. It was adorably disastrous. When our girls' "On the Good Ship Lollipop" was over... out came the competition girls, their same ages. I was blown away by the difference. In fact, you should have seen my jaw drop. They were GOOD! No crotch pickers, and completely on point. They were 5 and 6. What?! That's what I'm talking about. We signed her up the very next week. She had never gone through an audition process before, and it was surprisingly brutal and emotional for her. It made it a bit easier that her best friend was also auditioning... everything is better in a pair. (Another vaginal trait from me, I guess.) :) She made a team, and off we went... into completely foreign territory.
I was not expecting how much it would change her. (Or me... I now know what glue will hold anything imaginable, and the best websites to order bulk feathers and rhinestones... who knew?) Before she was a dancer, she was a bit shy. She made friends easily, but was shy. All of the sudden, I had this out going, confident, hard working little girl... who was passionate and proud about something! Something she chose to do, and was really enjoying! She isn't the world's best dancer. She will never be the winner of "So You Think You Can Dance"... but she loves it. Passionately. It makes her happy. The competitions, themselves, were a lot less 'competitive' than I thought they would be too. All of the girls... from all of the schools... cheer each other on, and genuinely enjoy seeing really good dances. Regardless from which studio they originated. It's a sense of camaraderie that you don't see very often. Same goes for the 'Dance Moms'. We pass each other in the hall, and even though we have never met... we know exactly what each other are going through. I know you spent 7 hours stoning that costume. I know you know... I did too. I know, that you know, that makeup on a 10 year old is incessantly judged... and Jimmy cracks corn. We also both know that, the minute our kid gets on that stage, and the music starts... we hold our breath, get goose bumps... and cry a little bit. (And dig in our purses... so nobody sees it...) We are proud. And there is nothing better than that feeling. Being proud of your kid. They work hard all year, and give up their friends' birthday parties, and school carnivals... to perfect their dances. The level of pride that they, as dancers, feel, is even too much for this sappy Mom to handle! :) The intense energy at awards is a feeling all its own, as well. Getting the ever coveted 'Platinum' for a dance... is just what the doctor ordered for these girls... who are pooped out after along day... and want to be recognized for their efforts. It's exciting. For all of us who invested.
I'm not saying that every little girl should dance. It isn't the right thing for a lot of families. And I understand people's concern when I post a picture to facebook, of my kid, wearing makeup and booty shorts. I'm clearly pimping her out. (?) I just don't understand the judgement factor. Her teammates are some of her best friends. They all go to other schools, and come from different cities. When she has had a bad day at school... she can go to dance, whine to one of her dance girlfriends, get a whole bunch of "Who cares. You are AWESOME"s, and all is forgotten. They are so supportive to each other. It's touching, actually. Nobody else understands what they do. They hear (And read on facebook) the rude comments about their costumes, and what their faces and hair look like. It is digested by them. My Daughter has asked me on several occasions if people think it's wrong that she dances. That kind of sucks a little bit. She is proud of what she does, and it isn't fair to have to suck that up when you are 10. She wears more than any swimmer... or... wrestler does. :)
Dance, among other things, has taught her confidence, discipline and friendship. She could get up in front of a room full of people... and speak. That is more than I can say for many adults I know. She knows what it is like to win... and lose. She handles disappointment better than I do. She doesn't have body issues... there are all sorts of body types on her team... and they are all normal to her. I think it has been one of the best decisions we have ever made. It will keep her out of trouble too... which, when you are coming from my and my Husband's stock... is never a bad thing. :) She gets to spend Friday nights with her Daddy... doing Dads and Daughters. (He finally caved... when all she wanted for Christmas was to do just that...) That has been amazing for them. They are best friends... and I love it! As long as she continues to look forward to dance, I will continue to support her. How could I not? Every minute of her time is spent tapping in the kitchen, flipping in the hallway and yard, doing open turns in the basement, and making up dances to the Biebs' songs. :) It's cute.
Lastly... will the real dance moms please stand up? :) I, personally, have also gotten a lot out of her dance. I got the moms. These women have been so much a part of my life, I can't tell you how much they have impacted us. There is a bond with us as well. We work together all year, put up with judgmental family and friends, spend countless hours planning and stoning costumes, shoes and organizing outings. We lean on each other for advice and encouragement, and sneak wine into the dressing rooms... in case one of us needs it. :) When my Son got hit by a car on his bike last Fall... the first 5 people who called, stopped by, and dropped off survival goodies... were all Dance Moms. That is what we do for each other. They picked up and dropped off my daughter for dance for 2 weeks. They made my son cards and sent get well wishes. It meant so much. When my Mother In Law was diagnosed with Breast Cancer last Summer... I got countless emails and calls making sure we didn't need anything, and checking on her progress. These women are some of the coolest women I know. We know what is going on in each others families. We travel together, and I see them more than anyone else for 3 months straight. I have girlfriends... but having the Dance Moms is an added bonus. Some of them will be life long friends of mine. Same goes for our Daughters.
So, I guess... next time you watch "Dance Moms" and think that is real... or you think that I'm weird for letting my kid wear makeup, or a costume you think is inappropriate, etc... just remember... I am proud of her, and I think she is amazing at what she does. And another reminder... next time there is a swimming meet or wrestling match in your area... watch out for surprise boners! :) Tee hee!!
Sincerely,
My tiny dancer's biggest fan :)
My Daughter is obsessed with 3 things... Dance, gymnastics, and Justin Bieber. And when I say obsessed, I mean... obsessed. She is not the kid who plays soccer or softball. Those things would never interest her. Hockey, to her, is a 'boy sport'. It requires profuse sweating, acne, pushing, spinal injuries.... and bad hair. She likes to go to her brother's hockey games... drink hot chocolate and cheer him on. (I'd be lying if I said she doesn't enjoy running around and flirting with all the boys that are off the ice as well. She's 10 and related to me. I passed that down vaginally, I think. I'll deal with that some other time...) He does the same for her. Just like any other Brother/Sister team... they are supportive of each other's choices. She thinks hockey is dumb... he would never dance. Isn't that why you teach your kids to follow their dreams? It's up to them to decide what makes them happy? Justin Bieber is coming between them more than anything right now, actually. My daughter has a bedroom covered in Biebs pictures, posters, calendars etc... and an ipod full of his music, that she blares regularly. My Son has a sign on his door that says "Jutsin Beebre Is the werst". She hates it. :) He has an ipod full of pictures and videos of his sister... doing various, impressive tricks and dance moves. Just not to Bieber tunes...
Like everyone else, who has given me shit for years, I wasn't completely educated on what I was getting into with the whole Competition Dance thing. I just knew that it had to be better than rec dance. She started with rec, and it was just not the right fit. The recital, albeit cute, was almost embarrassing. There were girls standing there, picking tights out of their crotches, feverishly looking for Mom and Dad in the audience, and having no clue what steps they were supposed to be doing. It was adorably disastrous. When our girls' "On the Good Ship Lollipop" was over... out came the competition girls, their same ages. I was blown away by the difference. In fact, you should have seen my jaw drop. They were GOOD! No crotch pickers, and completely on point. They were 5 and 6. What?! That's what I'm talking about. We signed her up the very next week. She had never gone through an audition process before, and it was surprisingly brutal and emotional for her. It made it a bit easier that her best friend was also auditioning... everything is better in a pair. (Another vaginal trait from me, I guess.) :) She made a team, and off we went... into completely foreign territory.
I was not expecting how much it would change her. (Or me... I now know what glue will hold anything imaginable, and the best websites to order bulk feathers and rhinestones... who knew?) Before she was a dancer, she was a bit shy. She made friends easily, but was shy. All of the sudden, I had this out going, confident, hard working little girl... who was passionate and proud about something! Something she chose to do, and was really enjoying! She isn't the world's best dancer. She will never be the winner of "So You Think You Can Dance"... but she loves it. Passionately. It makes her happy. The competitions, themselves, were a lot less 'competitive' than I thought they would be too. All of the girls... from all of the schools... cheer each other on, and genuinely enjoy seeing really good dances. Regardless from which studio they originated. It's a sense of camaraderie that you don't see very often. Same goes for the 'Dance Moms'. We pass each other in the hall, and even though we have never met... we know exactly what each other are going through. I know you spent 7 hours stoning that costume. I know you know... I did too. I know, that you know, that makeup on a 10 year old is incessantly judged... and Jimmy cracks corn. We also both know that, the minute our kid gets on that stage, and the music starts... we hold our breath, get goose bumps... and cry a little bit. (And dig in our purses... so nobody sees it...) We are proud. And there is nothing better than that feeling. Being proud of your kid. They work hard all year, and give up their friends' birthday parties, and school carnivals... to perfect their dances. The level of pride that they, as dancers, feel, is even too much for this sappy Mom to handle! :) The intense energy at awards is a feeling all its own, as well. Getting the ever coveted 'Platinum' for a dance... is just what the doctor ordered for these girls... who are pooped out after along day... and want to be recognized for their efforts. It's exciting. For all of us who invested.
I'm not saying that every little girl should dance. It isn't the right thing for a lot of families. And I understand people's concern when I post a picture to facebook, of my kid, wearing makeup and booty shorts. I'm clearly pimping her out. (?) I just don't understand the judgement factor. Her teammates are some of her best friends. They all go to other schools, and come from different cities. When she has had a bad day at school... she can go to dance, whine to one of her dance girlfriends, get a whole bunch of "Who cares. You are AWESOME"s, and all is forgotten. They are so supportive to each other. It's touching, actually. Nobody else understands what they do. They hear (And read on facebook) the rude comments about their costumes, and what their faces and hair look like. It is digested by them. My Daughter has asked me on several occasions if people think it's wrong that she dances. That kind of sucks a little bit. She is proud of what she does, and it isn't fair to have to suck that up when you are 10. She wears more than any swimmer... or... wrestler does. :)
Dance, among other things, has taught her confidence, discipline and friendship. She could get up in front of a room full of people... and speak. That is more than I can say for many adults I know. She knows what it is like to win... and lose. She handles disappointment better than I do. She doesn't have body issues... there are all sorts of body types on her team... and they are all normal to her. I think it has been one of the best decisions we have ever made. It will keep her out of trouble too... which, when you are coming from my and my Husband's stock... is never a bad thing. :) She gets to spend Friday nights with her Daddy... doing Dads and Daughters. (He finally caved... when all she wanted for Christmas was to do just that...) That has been amazing for them. They are best friends... and I love it! As long as she continues to look forward to dance, I will continue to support her. How could I not? Every minute of her time is spent tapping in the kitchen, flipping in the hallway and yard, doing open turns in the basement, and making up dances to the Biebs' songs. :) It's cute.
Lastly... will the real dance moms please stand up? :) I, personally, have also gotten a lot out of her dance. I got the moms. These women have been so much a part of my life, I can't tell you how much they have impacted us. There is a bond with us as well. We work together all year, put up with judgmental family and friends, spend countless hours planning and stoning costumes, shoes and organizing outings. We lean on each other for advice and encouragement, and sneak wine into the dressing rooms... in case one of us needs it. :) When my Son got hit by a car on his bike last Fall... the first 5 people who called, stopped by, and dropped off survival goodies... were all Dance Moms. That is what we do for each other. They picked up and dropped off my daughter for dance for 2 weeks. They made my son cards and sent get well wishes. It meant so much. When my Mother In Law was diagnosed with Breast Cancer last Summer... I got countless emails and calls making sure we didn't need anything, and checking on her progress. These women are some of the coolest women I know. We know what is going on in each others families. We travel together, and I see them more than anyone else for 3 months straight. I have girlfriends... but having the Dance Moms is an added bonus. Some of them will be life long friends of mine. Same goes for our Daughters.
So, I guess... next time you watch "Dance Moms" and think that is real... or you think that I'm weird for letting my kid wear makeup, or a costume you think is inappropriate, etc... just remember... I am proud of her, and I think she is amazing at what she does. And another reminder... next time there is a swimming meet or wrestling match in your area... watch out for surprise boners! :) Tee hee!!
Sincerely,
Friday, March 30, 2012
Aging. It's The Pits. Period.
As of late, I have been completely overwhelmed with what is happening to my... well... my everything. I turned 35 this past year, and it has been a vicious, downward spiral ever since. I have never had to worry much about what I looked like. I never put much emphasis on it either, but I'm pretty sure that is because I always thought I was attractive. I mean, we all are in our teens and 20s... right? Even some of our early 30s? (Like, until 32...then you're done.) It's a breeze... Bright eyed (including the whites), smooth, unwrinkled skin, no puffy, under eye madness, and not a grey head or eyebrow hair, or pube to be found. (Not that I have those dreadful bastards... but I'm sure they are not the 'myth' they used to be.) I look at pictures of my 20-something self, and think "My GOD... I was hot! Why did I think I was so fat, and worry about a bad hair day?" That is usually followed up with a "But... what the hell am I wearing!?!" Seriously... the 90s were not my best dressed era. I wore things like silver jackets that looked like moon man attire, suits, (yes... I said suits.) really short shirts... and wait for it...... overalls. I literally sported overalls like they were necessary. Like I was going to get hand picked for a Bell Biv Devoe video any second... but only if I wore them everywhere I went. With my ballet shoes. Always ballet shoes. (I guess I wasn't concerned with the fact that I'm short?) Wardrobe malfunction, after wardrobe malfunction... bygones. Clothing choices aide, I always had it goin' on. I turned a few heads, and it just didn't matter that much to me. Cuz it just... was.
I really never have put much emphasis on appearance. I go to the store, school, even parties... with no makeup on, and in my sweats. I am pretty confident nobody could ever call me vain. My Mom told me being pretty is a curse... I ran with that. Who gives a shit? I don't even tell my daughter she is beautiful. Instead I focus on the fact that she is funny, smart and a really good friend. I have had some ishy life experiences that made me that way, and I embrace it. Who really cares what ya look like!? I'm not ugly... right? Until...
A couple of months ago, I happened to look in the rear view mirror in my car. On a sunny, bright, mustache enhancing light, day. It ruined my life. I was amazed/mortified/bewildered by what I saw. Things that had never really been 'my' problem, suddenly have reared their ugly heads. On my FACE! I have wrinkles on my forehead, like Rumpelstiltskin, that I now blame on my really bad sunburn in Mexico... when I was 17. I have a couple of grey hairs, which I blame on my kids and 2011. I have swollen, puffy, dark... business, under my eyes that make me wanna pinch them really hard until they just fall off. I blame those on Allergies and my Mom. I'm starting to develop crow's feet, and those little 'down your cheek smile lines'. I blame those on my Husband and Sister. They make me laugh too much. Don't quote me (Or make fun of me), but I think I'm starting to grow a beard? I'm not sure what to blame that on... but I'm gonna keep searching for something. It hurts my feelings... a lot. I can't hide my 10 extra pounds anymore. I blame that on the fact that that 10 extra pounds, has turned into 30 extra pounds. Good luck hiding that, fatty. :) I have a double chin. God forbid I make the 'kissy face' lips... My mouth, in that formation, is reminiscent of an elderly woman's anus. And that I blame on my years of smoking. While I was checking myself out in that mirror, and trying to breathe... even though my jeans were pretty much disemboweling me under that seat belt... It hit me. (Well... it actually 'hit me' when I made the kissy face, but whatever...) All of the things I blame my 'beauty demise' on are just parts of the problem. The real problem is really simple. All of these terrible things, that have suddenly started, are due to... Me. Being old. (Well... and the smoking.) I'm officially aging. It can't be reversed. I'm fucked. :(
From that day forward, I have neurotically checked everyone's forehead that I have come in contact with. I check their eyes. I try to get a glimpse of their stache in sunlight... but I always end up depressed. Even if you have those terrible things too... it doesn't make me feel better... because I also have them. Yours are just on you. And mine are on me. And I hate it... for both of us. I will think things like "Why do I have to have such bad allergy bags under my eyes? But at least I don't have her smile lines, or that frowny thing in between her eyes." Gross. Who IS this person I have become? I'm not supposed to care what I, or anyone else, looks like!! It's supposed to be irrelevant. Well... I guess the song "You Don't Know What You Got Till It's Gone" has just earned a new place in my heart. Goodbye, young, cute me. Hello older, less attractive, version of me. Me 2.0. I don't know how I feel about her quite yet.
With age comes wisdom. We all know that. With age, also comes a new found love of makeup, and anti-aging creams. It also brings a new found clarity about Botox, lasers, and Plastic surgery. All of the things I mocked, in my more attractive youth. (I now feel like I need to start a savings account, just for those purposes.) I'm sure I have painted a very pretty picture of my state of affairs these days. It probably isn't as bad as I think, (Just go with that, ok?) and it is only gonna get worse, but I can't help but wonder... Is it harder to start the aging process when you have been a 'looker' in your past? Like... something has been ripped away from you... and you miss it? Or... is it harder to start aging when you have never had 'being hot' on your resume? I guess it is what it is. We will all end up as wrinkled, old, prunes... with grey pubes... eventually. I'm just perplexed as to why it took me so long to notice it was happening to me! Denial is a magical thing. :)
I will eventually come to grips with, and accept all of this... (meanwhile, fighting it with everything I have.) :) In some strange way, I feel sort of ok with some of it. My life hasn't been easy, and I have earned every bit of wisdom and strength these wrinkles and greys bring with them. Life is funny that way. You take so many things for granted, and then look back and think... What just happened? There is no use in sweating the petty. (Or even the Tom Petty, for that matter) Some things are inevitable. Tragic, but inevitable. My Husband and kids think I'm lovely, and that is really what matters. My Mom said to me the other day, "Honey, don't worry so much about aging. Pretty soon you'll be my age, and you won't be able to see. You will look in the mirror, and think you look GREAT!" I love her.
I will never be that 110 pound, little blonde, that walked into a place and turned heads... but I now look at those girls, and know that they, someday, will have learned all of their lessons, and they will hopefully have a lot more money than I do... to spend on Botox. :) Maybe I need to go buy some overalls. Just in case Bell Biv Devoe is looking for a middle aged, Suburban Mom... to push them around the nursing home. :)
I really never have put much emphasis on appearance. I go to the store, school, even parties... with no makeup on, and in my sweats. I am pretty confident nobody could ever call me vain. My Mom told me being pretty is a curse... I ran with that. Who gives a shit? I don't even tell my daughter she is beautiful. Instead I focus on the fact that she is funny, smart and a really good friend. I have had some ishy life experiences that made me that way, and I embrace it. Who really cares what ya look like!? I'm not ugly... right? Until...
A couple of months ago, I happened to look in the rear view mirror in my car. On a sunny, bright, mustache enhancing light, day. It ruined my life. I was amazed/mortified/bewildered by what I saw. Things that had never really been 'my' problem, suddenly have reared their ugly heads. On my FACE! I have wrinkles on my forehead, like Rumpelstiltskin, that I now blame on my really bad sunburn in Mexico... when I was 17. I have a couple of grey hairs, which I blame on my kids and 2011. I have swollen, puffy, dark... business, under my eyes that make me wanna pinch them really hard until they just fall off. I blame those on Allergies and my Mom. I'm starting to develop crow's feet, and those little 'down your cheek smile lines'. I blame those on my Husband and Sister. They make me laugh too much. Don't quote me (Or make fun of me), but I think I'm starting to grow a beard? I'm not sure what to blame that on... but I'm gonna keep searching for something. It hurts my feelings... a lot. I can't hide my 10 extra pounds anymore. I blame that on the fact that that 10 extra pounds, has turned into 30 extra pounds. Good luck hiding that, fatty. :) I have a double chin. God forbid I make the 'kissy face' lips... My mouth, in that formation, is reminiscent of an elderly woman's anus. And that I blame on my years of smoking. While I was checking myself out in that mirror, and trying to breathe... even though my jeans were pretty much disemboweling me under that seat belt... It hit me. (Well... it actually 'hit me' when I made the kissy face, but whatever...) All of the things I blame my 'beauty demise' on are just parts of the problem. The real problem is really simple. All of these terrible things, that have suddenly started, are due to... Me. Being old. (Well... and the smoking.) I'm officially aging. It can't be reversed. I'm fucked. :(
From that day forward, I have neurotically checked everyone's forehead that I have come in contact with. I check their eyes. I try to get a glimpse of their stache in sunlight... but I always end up depressed. Even if you have those terrible things too... it doesn't make me feel better... because I also have them. Yours are just on you. And mine are on me. And I hate it... for both of us. I will think things like "Why do I have to have such bad allergy bags under my eyes? But at least I don't have her smile lines, or that frowny thing in between her eyes." Gross. Who IS this person I have become? I'm not supposed to care what I, or anyone else, looks like!! It's supposed to be irrelevant. Well... I guess the song "You Don't Know What You Got Till It's Gone" has just earned a new place in my heart. Goodbye, young, cute me. Hello older, less attractive, version of me. Me 2.0. I don't know how I feel about her quite yet.
With age comes wisdom. We all know that. With age, also comes a new found love of makeup, and anti-aging creams. It also brings a new found clarity about Botox, lasers, and Plastic surgery. All of the things I mocked, in my more attractive youth. (I now feel like I need to start a savings account, just for those purposes.) I'm sure I have painted a very pretty picture of my state of affairs these days. It probably isn't as bad as I think, (Just go with that, ok?) and it is only gonna get worse, but I can't help but wonder... Is it harder to start the aging process when you have been a 'looker' in your past? Like... something has been ripped away from you... and you miss it? Or... is it harder to start aging when you have never had 'being hot' on your resume? I guess it is what it is. We will all end up as wrinkled, old, prunes... with grey pubes... eventually. I'm just perplexed as to why it took me so long to notice it was happening to me! Denial is a magical thing. :)
I will eventually come to grips with, and accept all of this... (meanwhile, fighting it with everything I have.) :) In some strange way, I feel sort of ok with some of it. My life hasn't been easy, and I have earned every bit of wisdom and strength these wrinkles and greys bring with them. Life is funny that way. You take so many things for granted, and then look back and think... What just happened? There is no use in sweating the petty. (Or even the Tom Petty, for that matter) Some things are inevitable. Tragic, but inevitable. My Husband and kids think I'm lovely, and that is really what matters. My Mom said to me the other day, "Honey, don't worry so much about aging. Pretty soon you'll be my age, and you won't be able to see. You will look in the mirror, and think you look GREAT!" I love her.
I will never be that 110 pound, little blonde, that walked into a place and turned heads... but I now look at those girls, and know that they, someday, will have learned all of their lessons, and they will hopefully have a lot more money than I do... to spend on Botox. :) Maybe I need to go buy some overalls. Just in case Bell Biv Devoe is looking for a middle aged, Suburban Mom... to push them around the nursing home. :)
Sunday, February 12, 2012
Pinterest... A Mixed Bag Of Emotions? Perhaps...
I recently, after much time spent avoiding it, got sucked into the vortex that is Pinterest. It may be one of the strangest things I have ever been wildly addicted to. It still makes no sense to me, and makes my head spin, and eyeballs ache. Is there a reason why we need to have THIS much information all in one place? And why does it make me feel so many things? It really does. Maybe I'm not ready for this kind of roller coaster. (Or...I'm just nuts...) I have an intense urge to break down these emotions, however... by number.
1) It makes me feel sad.
I know that may seem odd... but it does. I go into the 'Everything' page (Filled with 'pins' from perfect strangers... and why I'm seeing their things is beyond me. I feel like a Peeping Tom...) For some reason, I am clearly connected with a bunch of 25 year olds who recently gave birth, or peed their first positive results on a pregnancy test, got married or engaged, bought their first 'fixer upper', threw/are getting ready to throw their first 'big girl dinner party', have all the time in the world to make overly detailed, and in my opinion, weird... crafts... that will NEVER turn out like the picture, (Lets just say they did turn out... why the HELL did you waste 3 hours making an ice balloon sculpture? Is it for your big girl dinner party?) and/or think that really bizarre braids and messy updos are the bomb... diggity?
Here's the thing... I'm fricken old. Like... I'm 35. I got married 10 years ago. It was a lovely affair for 400, of which I did all the planning in 3 months prior to, with... wait for it... NO INTERNET! It was all of my own ideas. My invitations were from a book that my Mother in Law has at work. I had 200 to choose from, and was completely overwhelmed. I didn't make them from scratch.. inspired by someone else's 'pin'. (Copycat?) Hell... I don't even have digital pictures from my ancient wedding. I had 200 proofs from negatives, (Once again... completely overwhelmed) and they are now in a book. Also something I didn't make. :) My centerpieces were hand-me-down fishbowls from a friend's recent wedding. I filled them with fish. It was totally queer, and I'm still kinda sad about it. Don't get me wrong... I loved my wedding. It's just... Where the hell was Pinterest then, huh!? :) Mama could have used to look at some fancy ideas... while breast feeding her brand new baby, and planning a wedding! Just keepin' it classy... :)
We also bought our house 11 years ago. We have redone every room in it (7 times each... I swear) and I didn't get to look at any cool ice balloon sculptures, or dream closets for inspiration. My house is just... done. Thank you, Pinterest, because now I want to do it all over again. It makes me sad that I missed so many neat ideas. (Maybe we could quit 'pinning' pictures of weird, fish cave bedrooms, though... it freaks me out.)
Another bummer is all the baby pictures and projects. Lets just rub it in that I can't have any more babies. (Per my Husband's demands) It hurts my feelings. I seriously want to make some shit out of onesies and locks of hair for my kids. My 8 and 10 year old kids. I also want that hat for one of them that looks like a boob and nipple... for breast feeding babies? I love it! For real... Where WAS this shit?!
I've thrown lots of dinner parties. Most of them consisted of too much booze, not enough food, and late night dancing... in my living room that doubles as a dance floor. Good times. BUT, I would have LOVED to have had some little roll ups, and fancy beverages... sipped out of decorated jars. I would have made name cards out of corks, and centerpieces that would have just 'wowed' you. (I'll be sending an invitation for my next dinner party soon... there's no way around it...) I'm sad that my last dinner parties have failed to live up to Pinterest standards. Those days are over. :)
As for the crafts... my crafts would kick any craft on Pinterest's ass. I'm not sad about that. In fact... some of the crafty biz I see, with captions like "I'm SO gonna have to try this!! I've never seen ANYTHING cuter!" Followed by 36 hearts... make me shake my head in bewilderment. I sometimes want to comment on these strangers' pins, and say "Mmmmkay... are you really gonna have to try this? Like..... why is it so imperative that you do this?" and follow it with 37 hearts... just to one-up them. :) But I won't. I'll just wait till they pop out that first baby, and they realize that none of that is actually realistic. They, too... will be old and bitter like me one day.
2) It makes me feel insufficient.
Ok... I am a Hair Stylist. That is what I have done for a living for 18 years. I'm pretty well seasoned in my field. Or, at least I THOUGHT I was seasoned... until I went on Pinterest. I find myself saying "How on earth did that chick get that braid to wrap around her head, turn at a ninety degree angle, swing back around, fray a little in all the right places, somehow get dipped in rainbow colors and sprinkles, then back over her forehead and down to the floor?" I am baffled... and clueless. Seriously... no effing clue how they did that. I am insufficient.
I also feel insufficient because my bank account just can't afford to keep up with all of these 'pins' that I want to keep up on. (Maybe if I could figure out that braid... someone would pay me to do it for them? I don't know... might work...) I want those closets and kitchens... but where would I put them? My house is even insufficient in the Pinterest world. :)
3) It makes me feel stressed out.
Let's face it... there is just too much to look at. That would stress out even the most mellow stoner on the planet. It just would.
4) It makes me confused.
Obviously the overwhelming part of it is confusing. That being said... where else will you find an inspirational weight loss poster... pinned right next to a brownie/cookie/cake/muffin... casserole? That confuses me. I sort of dig the irony... but it's confusing, nonetheless. Once I get more pinning practice, perhaps some of he confusion will subside. Until then... whatdoesallofthismean?!! :)
5) It makes me feel ashamed.
Not only am I looking at strangers' wishes and wants (And coveting them... like they really have them or something like that) but I find myself wishing ill on the owners of those closets and kitchens. Maybe they will bequeath them to me... if only they would take ill and croak. Shameful. I'm also ashamed at my reaction to the food. I do have an inner fat kid, and she has a hay day on Pinterest. I swear... one of these days I'm going to wait until everyone is gone, and make one of those delicious looking cake/cookie/brownie/muffin/caramel casseroles... and eat the whole damn thing... while nobody is looking. But then... I'll be even MORE ashamed when I see the inspirational, weight loss poster underneath it. Or the outfit.. complete with purse, earrings, shoes and scarf, that someone just pinned... that will clearly not fit me now. Because I ate that casserole. Vicious cycle. Oh, the shame.
But it mostly makes me feel...
6) Happy and inspired!
Don't get me wrong, I am not surprised I am absolutely addicted to Pinterest. It is right up my alley. I thoroughly enjoy having grown men follow my board called 'Yummies'. I love when people repin my shit. I love getting new ideas for dinner (Whether or not I make them is still up in the air) I love the idea that everyone's ideas are great. (Except some of the crafts... and fish cave bedrooms. But who's judging? Oh, that's right.. I am...) :) It makes me happy that 25 year olds are getting married and having babies. Babies who will, no doubt, have the coolest bedrooms on the block, and shit made out of locks of hair and onesies. I'm inspired by the way some people are SO into food... that they can't take it, and make hearts, when they come across a recipe for Caprese Chicken, or lasagna. It makes me smile that we can envelop ourselves in some down right harmless, yet ridiculous, 'wishboards'. Full of stuff that has impacted us or made us 'want badly'. Who knows... maybe some day I will have that kitchen with the fabulous island. Or that closet... full of shoes. Until I do... I'll just keep looking at all of this as good, clean fun. (It is all fun and games, until that casserole actually materializes..) :)
I must go now... I found a fantastic recipe earlier. I need to go share with all my grown men following Yummies. (Why is that so funny to me?)
Happy Pinning!!
1) It makes me feel sad.
I know that may seem odd... but it does. I go into the 'Everything' page (Filled with 'pins' from perfect strangers... and why I'm seeing their things is beyond me. I feel like a Peeping Tom...) For some reason, I am clearly connected with a bunch of 25 year olds who recently gave birth, or peed their first positive results on a pregnancy test, got married or engaged, bought their first 'fixer upper', threw/are getting ready to throw their first 'big girl dinner party', have all the time in the world to make overly detailed, and in my opinion, weird... crafts... that will NEVER turn out like the picture, (Lets just say they did turn out... why the HELL did you waste 3 hours making an ice balloon sculpture? Is it for your big girl dinner party?) and/or think that really bizarre braids and messy updos are the bomb... diggity?
Here's the thing... I'm fricken old. Like... I'm 35. I got married 10 years ago. It was a lovely affair for 400, of which I did all the planning in 3 months prior to, with... wait for it... NO INTERNET! It was all of my own ideas. My invitations were from a book that my Mother in Law has at work. I had 200 to choose from, and was completely overwhelmed. I didn't make them from scratch.. inspired by someone else's 'pin'. (Copycat?) Hell... I don't even have digital pictures from my ancient wedding. I had 200 proofs from negatives, (Once again... completely overwhelmed) and they are now in a book. Also something I didn't make. :) My centerpieces were hand-me-down fishbowls from a friend's recent wedding. I filled them with fish. It was totally queer, and I'm still kinda sad about it. Don't get me wrong... I loved my wedding. It's just... Where the hell was Pinterest then, huh!? :) Mama could have used to look at some fancy ideas... while breast feeding her brand new baby, and planning a wedding! Just keepin' it classy... :)
We also bought our house 11 years ago. We have redone every room in it (7 times each... I swear) and I didn't get to look at any cool ice balloon sculptures, or dream closets for inspiration. My house is just... done. Thank you, Pinterest, because now I want to do it all over again. It makes me sad that I missed so many neat ideas. (Maybe we could quit 'pinning' pictures of weird, fish cave bedrooms, though... it freaks me out.)
Another bummer is all the baby pictures and projects. Lets just rub it in that I can't have any more babies. (Per my Husband's demands) It hurts my feelings. I seriously want to make some shit out of onesies and locks of hair for my kids. My 8 and 10 year old kids. I also want that hat for one of them that looks like a boob and nipple... for breast feeding babies? I love it! For real... Where WAS this shit?!
I've thrown lots of dinner parties. Most of them consisted of too much booze, not enough food, and late night dancing... in my living room that doubles as a dance floor. Good times. BUT, I would have LOVED to have had some little roll ups, and fancy beverages... sipped out of decorated jars. I would have made name cards out of corks, and centerpieces that would have just 'wowed' you. (I'll be sending an invitation for my next dinner party soon... there's no way around it...) I'm sad that my last dinner parties have failed to live up to Pinterest standards. Those days are over. :)
As for the crafts... my crafts would kick any craft on Pinterest's ass. I'm not sad about that. In fact... some of the crafty biz I see, with captions like "I'm SO gonna have to try this!! I've never seen ANYTHING cuter!" Followed by 36 hearts... make me shake my head in bewilderment. I sometimes want to comment on these strangers' pins, and say "Mmmmkay... are you really gonna have to try this? Like..... why is it so imperative that you do this?" and follow it with 37 hearts... just to one-up them. :) But I won't. I'll just wait till they pop out that first baby, and they realize that none of that is actually realistic. They, too... will be old and bitter like me one day.
2) It makes me feel insufficient.
Ok... I am a Hair Stylist. That is what I have done for a living for 18 years. I'm pretty well seasoned in my field. Or, at least I THOUGHT I was seasoned... until I went on Pinterest. I find myself saying "How on earth did that chick get that braid to wrap around her head, turn at a ninety degree angle, swing back around, fray a little in all the right places, somehow get dipped in rainbow colors and sprinkles, then back over her forehead and down to the floor?" I am baffled... and clueless. Seriously... no effing clue how they did that. I am insufficient.
I also feel insufficient because my bank account just can't afford to keep up with all of these 'pins' that I want to keep up on. (Maybe if I could figure out that braid... someone would pay me to do it for them? I don't know... might work...) I want those closets and kitchens... but where would I put them? My house is even insufficient in the Pinterest world. :)
3) It makes me feel stressed out.
Let's face it... there is just too much to look at. That would stress out even the most mellow stoner on the planet. It just would.
4) It makes me confused.
Obviously the overwhelming part of it is confusing. That being said... where else will you find an inspirational weight loss poster... pinned right next to a brownie/cookie/cake/muffin... casserole? That confuses me. I sort of dig the irony... but it's confusing, nonetheless. Once I get more pinning practice, perhaps some of he confusion will subside. Until then... whatdoesallofthismean?!! :)
5) It makes me feel ashamed.
Not only am I looking at strangers' wishes and wants (And coveting them... like they really have them or something like that) but I find myself wishing ill on the owners of those closets and kitchens. Maybe they will bequeath them to me... if only they would take ill and croak. Shameful. I'm also ashamed at my reaction to the food. I do have an inner fat kid, and she has a hay day on Pinterest. I swear... one of these days I'm going to wait until everyone is gone, and make one of those delicious looking cake/cookie/brownie/muffin/caramel casseroles... and eat the whole damn thing... while nobody is looking. But then... I'll be even MORE ashamed when I see the inspirational, weight loss poster underneath it. Or the outfit.. complete with purse, earrings, shoes and scarf, that someone just pinned... that will clearly not fit me now. Because I ate that casserole. Vicious cycle. Oh, the shame.
But it mostly makes me feel...
6) Happy and inspired!
Don't get me wrong, I am not surprised I am absolutely addicted to Pinterest. It is right up my alley. I thoroughly enjoy having grown men follow my board called 'Yummies'. I love when people repin my shit. I love getting new ideas for dinner (Whether or not I make them is still up in the air) I love the idea that everyone's ideas are great. (Except some of the crafts... and fish cave bedrooms. But who's judging? Oh, that's right.. I am...) :) It makes me happy that 25 year olds are getting married and having babies. Babies who will, no doubt, have the coolest bedrooms on the block, and shit made out of locks of hair and onesies. I'm inspired by the way some people are SO into food... that they can't take it, and make hearts, when they come across a recipe for Caprese Chicken, or lasagna. It makes me smile that we can envelop ourselves in some down right harmless, yet ridiculous, 'wishboards'. Full of stuff that has impacted us or made us 'want badly'. Who knows... maybe some day I will have that kitchen with the fabulous island. Or that closet... full of shoes. Until I do... I'll just keep looking at all of this as good, clean fun. (It is all fun and games, until that casserole actually materializes..) :)
I must go now... I found a fantastic recipe earlier. I need to go share with all my grown men following Yummies. (Why is that so funny to me?)
Happy Pinning!!
Friday, February 10, 2012
Half-Assed, Yet Wholeheartedly. Confused? Me Too... :)
Just like most things in my life these days, Jillian was like a fart in the wind. Gone before I could smell (Or, if you are my Husband's fart...taste...) the results. It has been 2 weeks since I popped in that DVD. I'm kicking myself... but I'm also happy to be walking upright again. And without all of the yelps and whimpers, randomly shooting out of my mouth. Not to say I will never dust it off again... I'm sure I'll muster the gumption at some point... but I'm over it. For now. Call me a quitter... or a loser... what ever floats your judgmental boat. Jimmy is cracking corn right now... as we speak... and I don't care. :)
I am, perhaps, in a half-assed rut. Lately, I'm feeling I'm doomed for a life of 'halvsies'. I keep doing so many things... half-assed.. and not really caring like I used to. I have never been a quitter (Ok... let's not talk high school. That was different... ishy circumstances I won't get in to...) Maybe this new 'nonchalant' attitude comes from the wisdom of my old age... I hate being stressed. Let's face it... striving for perfection is stressful. Or... maybe it is just... I'm 'busy' and don't care. I would hate to think I just givethefuckup. That isn't in my nature. (I don't think anyway...) I was just talking to a girlfriend about all of this, and... even after all of her old lady wisdom... I'm still not sure why I have become this way.
Ever since I can recall, I have been relatively anal retentive, and a perfectionist. I like to win. (Just ask my Sister... she STILL won't play a board game with me, or any sport... of any sort) With most things I put my mind to, I would succeed. (With the exception of Synchronized Swimming. Another fart, in the wind that is my life. But let's face it... who gives a shit.) When I was young, I was a straight 'A' student, consistently on the 'A' Honor Roll. I was in all advanced placement classes, and was even a peer tutor for Geometry. A total nerd/bookworm. I did that with everything I had and loved it. I was the 'smart kid' that had succeeded in making sure no boy would ever want to kiss me. Ever. (Hence, the Synchro Swimming) As long as I continued to get my extra credit done, I wouldn't have time for such nonsense anyway. Again... I was the smart kid. I won. (?)
Lots of acknowledgements later, tons of perfect report cards, 'winning', yada, yada, yada... Suddenly, I had boobs. Game changer.
I didn't just get regular old boobies, either... I got full C, 'I need an underwire ASAP', boobs. Overnight. I couldn't even do THAT half-assed. It was full Cs on my 110 pound frame... or nothing. (Thanks, Grandma Comfort.) I hate to say it, but with those boobs, it was a natural reaction to give up my bookworm lifestyle. We moved to a new city right before these were sprung on me, and I had so many new boys to 'explore'. I had a new curiosity about what other kids, (you know... those B and C students...) were doing. I had new friends, new boobs, new boys and a new outlook on life. My poor Dad.
Shortly thereafter, I had my first real boyfriend. He was kind of a stud (In my 14 year old mind... and still is, in his own, to this day) :) We didn't have a normal 'teenage' relationship either. it just had to be over the top... or I wasn't having it. There was nothing half-assed about our 8 years together. Nothing. I even gave up Cheerleading, to ensure my full attention was on his Hockey. All or nothing, ya know!? :) That's how I do!
A bunch more 'non half-assed stuff' went on in here... and then I chose my 'after high school path'. Cosmetology School.
My Mom was a Hair Stylist. 'Hair Dresser', as they called them, way back when. I knew I loved everything to do with hair. I grew up watching my Mom do her thing... and then I would practice on my poor, undeserving, friends and neighbor kids. I found I did have a knack for it, however. They looked pretty. I won. My family always had big ideas for me. Me, being the 'smart kid', had given them false hope :) A few choice members of my family were actually appalled when I took the 'easy way out' and did hair. I was gonna show THEM!! After my (heavy, early twenties) drinking, got in the way of a bunch of stuff (Again.. not gonna go into it. But I also did the 'partying' thing to the utmost degree.) I went on to have a fabulous career with a salon that I stayed with for 6 years. Not bad for my first real job! I got myself a brand new townhouse, 4,000 roommates, a brand new wardrobe, tons of vacations (Including Europe for a month) ... and a few newer habits. Mostly because I could afford it. And I was 'Winning'. (If you know me well... you know why this is funny...) :)
Then came my Husband and family... The end of my 'non half- assedness'
Becoming a Mom and Wife were the two most important things in my life. That goes without saying. But... ever since these people showed up... I am just not the go-getter girl I used to be! And I liked her. I miss her, almost daily, and wonder what would have happened to her if things would have been different. The old, over achieving me, (Sans hubby and kids) would have been kicking Jillian's ass in that stupid DVD! And I'm assuming she would be thin, well dressed, still pretty, and have lots of money. Her career would be amazing, and she would even own some shit. (Not just her 'skeletons'.... which she does own, btw...) :) She would reek of confidence, and get regular Botox. And sex. Probably lots of sex. She would have wild adventures, dreamy, tropical vacations, and a life would be full of the stuff that dreams are made of... Wouldn't she?
This new, more recent me... has half the energy, works only 2 nights a week, lives in sweatsuits, barely does anything with her hair, keeps the same makeup for years (Cuz it barely gets used), can't complete a 30 day workout program (Even though she USED to be the only human alive who could successfully complete the cabbage Soup Diet), drives a minivan, clips coupons, can't justify Botox (Or any other plastic surgery, for that matter), and spends her day cleaning up after, and doing other people's laundry.
Who are these people, you ask? These people who have made such a fancy version of myself, become this unfancy version of a 'cool chick' has-been? Those most important people who turned my career into a part time job, who leave their little belongings all over my house, are the reason for the minivan, and keep me so busy pleasing them that I don't even have time to blog or work out? They are my children and Husband. My family. And they make every bit of it worth my while, and that 'old me' a vague memory, with one squeeze, "I love you" or "Thanks, Mom. You are the best" :)
I could spend my whole life wondering 'what if'? Or saying 'I used to'. But what is the point? Life is full of stages, and lessons, and...well... different things at different times. I will always own that Jillian DVD. And someday... I WILL do it for 30 days!! Until then... I will continue to get half of my shit done, and have my shit be half as important as everyone else's. The part of my old self that still remains... is that I will never take my job as a Wife or Mom in a half-assed manor. Jillian can wait... and so can my dreamy, tropical vacation. (I'll need to master Jillian before I step foot on a beach ever again!) And THAT... is not a half-assed statement. I am still winning. Even if half- ass turns into fat-ass... I'll take it. Take THAT, old me! I'm gonna go snuggle up one of my munchkins and dream about Banana Joe's. (The old me's favorite place. I can embrace the memories... right?) :)
I am, perhaps, in a half-assed rut. Lately, I'm feeling I'm doomed for a life of 'halvsies'. I keep doing so many things... half-assed.. and not really caring like I used to. I have never been a quitter (Ok... let's not talk high school. That was different... ishy circumstances I won't get in to...) Maybe this new 'nonchalant' attitude comes from the wisdom of my old age... I hate being stressed. Let's face it... striving for perfection is stressful. Or... maybe it is just... I'm 'busy' and don't care. I would hate to think I just givethefuckup. That isn't in my nature. (I don't think anyway...) I was just talking to a girlfriend about all of this, and... even after all of her old lady wisdom... I'm still not sure why I have become this way.
Ever since I can recall, I have been relatively anal retentive, and a perfectionist. I like to win. (Just ask my Sister... she STILL won't play a board game with me, or any sport... of any sort) With most things I put my mind to, I would succeed. (With the exception of Synchronized Swimming. Another fart, in the wind that is my life. But let's face it... who gives a shit.) When I was young, I was a straight 'A' student, consistently on the 'A' Honor Roll. I was in all advanced placement classes, and was even a peer tutor for Geometry. A total nerd/bookworm. I did that with everything I had and loved it. I was the 'smart kid' that had succeeded in making sure no boy would ever want to kiss me. Ever. (Hence, the Synchro Swimming) As long as I continued to get my extra credit done, I wouldn't have time for such nonsense anyway. Again... I was the smart kid. I won. (?)
Lots of acknowledgements later, tons of perfect report cards, 'winning', yada, yada, yada... Suddenly, I had boobs. Game changer.
I didn't just get regular old boobies, either... I got full C, 'I need an underwire ASAP', boobs. Overnight. I couldn't even do THAT half-assed. It was full Cs on my 110 pound frame... or nothing. (Thanks, Grandma Comfort.) I hate to say it, but with those boobs, it was a natural reaction to give up my bookworm lifestyle. We moved to a new city right before these were sprung on me, and I had so many new boys to 'explore'. I had a new curiosity about what other kids, (you know... those B and C students...) were doing. I had new friends, new boobs, new boys and a new outlook on life. My poor Dad.
Shortly thereafter, I had my first real boyfriend. He was kind of a stud (In my 14 year old mind... and still is, in his own, to this day) :) We didn't have a normal 'teenage' relationship either. it just had to be over the top... or I wasn't having it. There was nothing half-assed about our 8 years together. Nothing. I even gave up Cheerleading, to ensure my full attention was on his Hockey. All or nothing, ya know!? :) That's how I do!
A bunch more 'non half-assed stuff' went on in here... and then I chose my 'after high school path'. Cosmetology School.
My Mom was a Hair Stylist. 'Hair Dresser', as they called them, way back when. I knew I loved everything to do with hair. I grew up watching my Mom do her thing... and then I would practice on my poor, undeserving, friends and neighbor kids. I found I did have a knack for it, however. They looked pretty. I won. My family always had big ideas for me. Me, being the 'smart kid', had given them false hope :) A few choice members of my family were actually appalled when I took the 'easy way out' and did hair. I was gonna show THEM!! After my (heavy, early twenties) drinking, got in the way of a bunch of stuff (Again.. not gonna go into it. But I also did the 'partying' thing to the utmost degree.) I went on to have a fabulous career with a salon that I stayed with for 6 years. Not bad for my first real job! I got myself a brand new townhouse, 4,000 roommates, a brand new wardrobe, tons of vacations (Including Europe for a month) ... and a few newer habits. Mostly because I could afford it. And I was 'Winning'. (If you know me well... you know why this is funny...) :)
Then came my Husband and family... The end of my 'non half- assedness'
Becoming a Mom and Wife were the two most important things in my life. That goes without saying. But... ever since these people showed up... I am just not the go-getter girl I used to be! And I liked her. I miss her, almost daily, and wonder what would have happened to her if things would have been different. The old, over achieving me, (Sans hubby and kids) would have been kicking Jillian's ass in that stupid DVD! And I'm assuming she would be thin, well dressed, still pretty, and have lots of money. Her career would be amazing, and she would even own some shit. (Not just her 'skeletons'.... which she does own, btw...) :) She would reek of confidence, and get regular Botox. And sex. Probably lots of sex. She would have wild adventures, dreamy, tropical vacations, and a life would be full of the stuff that dreams are made of... Wouldn't she?
This new, more recent me... has half the energy, works only 2 nights a week, lives in sweatsuits, barely does anything with her hair, keeps the same makeup for years (Cuz it barely gets used), can't complete a 30 day workout program (Even though she USED to be the only human alive who could successfully complete the cabbage Soup Diet), drives a minivan, clips coupons, can't justify Botox (Or any other plastic surgery, for that matter), and spends her day cleaning up after, and doing other people's laundry.
Who are these people, you ask? These people who have made such a fancy version of myself, become this unfancy version of a 'cool chick' has-been? Those most important people who turned my career into a part time job, who leave their little belongings all over my house, are the reason for the minivan, and keep me so busy pleasing them that I don't even have time to blog or work out? They are my children and Husband. My family. And they make every bit of it worth my while, and that 'old me' a vague memory, with one squeeze, "I love you" or "Thanks, Mom. You are the best" :)
I could spend my whole life wondering 'what if'? Or saying 'I used to'. But what is the point? Life is full of stages, and lessons, and...well... different things at different times. I will always own that Jillian DVD. And someday... I WILL do it for 30 days!! Until then... I will continue to get half of my shit done, and have my shit be half as important as everyone else's. The part of my old self that still remains... is that I will never take my job as a Wife or Mom in a half-assed manor. Jillian can wait... and so can my dreamy, tropical vacation. (I'll need to master Jillian before I step foot on a beach ever again!) And THAT... is not a half-assed statement. I am still winning. Even if half- ass turns into fat-ass... I'll take it. Take THAT, old me! I'm gonna go snuggle up one of my munchkins and dream about Banana Joe's. (The old me's favorite place. I can embrace the memories... right?) :)
Monday, January 16, 2012
My Love/Hate With Jillian. I Need a Percocet. STAT!
Well... it's mid January now... and my lack of self discipline has already earned me a big, fat, 'F' for most of the changes I wanted to make, upon the arrival of this new and 'improved' (Used in the loosest form possible...) year. I'm still smoking. I'm still fat. I haven't won the lottery. Shit... I haven't even been able to eat Activia diligently enough to get regular. (It's the simple things...) It makes me laugh when I think about it, actually. Why do I even make an attempt at 'resolutions'? (Also used in the loosest form possible...) Aren't they, in all reality, just idle threats I makes to my own... self? "I am not gonna talk to you if you don't lose 20 pounds in 3 weeks, FATTY!?" or "If you don't quit smoking cold turkey... TODAY... your house will burn down in the night, and it will be your fault... because you left a cigarette burning, or something awful like that! You DIRTY (Insert various four letter words here)?" (Notice I ignore the fact that I'm surely going to leave my children Motherless if I continue? Ugh... hardest thing in my life. Period. So I won't focus on that for now.) or my favorite... "Celery, nuts and water are perfectly delicious replacements for pizza and wine! You IDIOT?" Bare in mind... these are actual conversations. Conversations between me... and me. What? Yeah, sounds kinda mental, right? Typically, by this point, I've already thrown in the proverbial towel. And I scoff (Mostly out of pure, self loathing, jealousy) at those eager morons, who are still taking up regulars' treadmills at the gym they just joined. The one that they will only be a member of for another month. And at the smokers that are wearing patches that make their hands shake, their ears ring, and bring them closer to a stroke/certain death, than any cigarette they have ever smoked. Who are they kidding? But not this year. Nope. I've been having all sorts of 'words' with me these days. This will be the year I change everything that bugs. I'm sure of it.
I started today, in fact. A girlfriend of mine told me all about a Jillian Michaels DVD. The 30 day shred. She made it sound so fab... I even battled Walmart to purchase it! (Target was fresh out... good sign?) It is a series of three 20 minute workouts. Twenty minutes can't be THAT bad! Right!? I've been doing workout videos for years! Pilates and, well... Pilates? Clearly it has worked wonders, so... :) I've always kind of hated on Jillian, though. There is no reason... but I just have. Maybe it could be her incessant yelling, in fat people's faces, that gets to me. Or the fact that she is NOT a Doctor... but is suddenly on the show "The Doctors"? Who knows. If this chick can shred my shit in 30 days, I can overlook some of that. Also, I like to tell myself that Jillian, if anything, has really awful eyebrows. Eyebrows that will make a great target for me to grind my teeth and mutter 'shit talk' about, under my breath, while I'm sweating and swearing and want to stab someone. (That'll show that skinny bitch!) :) So... why not try it? My 10 year old Daughter and I decide to watch it first, so we know what we are in for. (When I say 'we'... I mean... 'I'. She dances 10-12 hours every week, does gymnastics, and has a 6 pack. She'll be fine. Plus... jumping up and down repeatedly isn't nearly as painful when you only weigh 50 pounds, and don't have DD cup boobs. I'm scared.) We were about 7 minutes in, and I noticed that even the ripped bitches, who she has demonstrating these God forsaken moves, are dripping in sweat and panting a little. Was my girlfriend for real? She does this shit!? Is it easier than it looks!? Cuz... seriously... I was exhausted just watching it. Was *I breaking out in a sweat? And panting? Ish... I was just in the viewing phase! I guess I felt the need to see for myself. Nothing like jumping right in!
I put on my sports bra, closed the curtains... (just in case someone were to drive by, happen to look in here, sees me flailing around like a victim of sorts, and think I'm being attacked by an intruder. It could happen... and I don't need the cops here again. Like... ever again.) and gave it a good old Community College try. (Disclaimer: I wore a tank top as well... all children's eyes were spared during this process) It was pretty brutal. Just like I thought. Level one is a bitch. Yes... I said level one. I felt like one of those sad, pathetic, 'I used to be so hot' chicks, on the Biggest Loser... who cry a bunch about their hefty weight gains... and then secretly, and feverishly, search for the camera crew's leftover donuts, when the camera is not on them. Quite appropriate, actually. :) I used to have a pretty decent bod too... And a fantastic, full length mirror that told me I looked long and lean... even on my shortest, squattest days :) (Oh, how I miss that mirror!!) And here I am now. Facing off with Jillian. Ew. :) I didn't lunge as low as what'shernuts, with the curly hair. She can Eff right off. I didn't do 'Man' push ups either... but I did it. And I didn't die! My son actually came and sat on the couch right next to me. His face was a tell-tale sign that things were jiggling in all the wrong places. He tried, with all of his might, not to laugh at me... to no avail. Why is it so much cuter when my daughter is doing all of this nonsense? I just look like a heffer on hot coals. :( So... after much laughter, sweat, teeth grinding, and bouncing... I actually felt pretty good about things! This should be a cinch by day 5 or 6!! I immediately slammed a bunch of water and smoked half of a cig. It didn't taste good. I sorta love Jillian!! All was well... until a half hour later, when I had to carry a laundry basket down the stairs...
My legs already feel like Jello, and I may have actually ripped my butt open. I'm not sure. My shoulders feel like they are in a vice grip, and my arms are shaking as I type this. I'm gonna be sore as HELL tomorrow... But, so help me God, I'm doing it again. I may even start to like the burn? Ok... that's pushing it, and a total lie... but hopefully I will dig the results. I even thought about taking before and after pictures, and walking myself through the process by blogging about it. (Mostly because I still don't really know why I even have a blog... or what I should blog about. I'm all 'new' and stuff. :)) But I won't. That is boring and totally overdone. Not to mention... nobody wants to see the 'before'. Maybe I'll take a '30 days in' photo or something instead :) For now I'm just gonna groove on the fact that I'm being somewhat proactive, and my kids go back to school tomorrow, so I can sweat and bawl in peace. :) I'm gonna turn those Fs into As before I know it! (Or at least Cs!! Now... if only I could figure out how to do that with my boobs...) The laundry can wait... I'll get to it when I'm all svelte. :)
I started today, in fact. A girlfriend of mine told me all about a Jillian Michaels DVD. The 30 day shred. She made it sound so fab... I even battled Walmart to purchase it! (Target was fresh out... good sign?) It is a series of three 20 minute workouts. Twenty minutes can't be THAT bad! Right!? I've been doing workout videos for years! Pilates and, well... Pilates? Clearly it has worked wonders, so... :) I've always kind of hated on Jillian, though. There is no reason... but I just have. Maybe it could be her incessant yelling, in fat people's faces, that gets to me. Or the fact that she is NOT a Doctor... but is suddenly on the show "The Doctors"? Who knows. If this chick can shred my shit in 30 days, I can overlook some of that. Also, I like to tell myself that Jillian, if anything, has really awful eyebrows. Eyebrows that will make a great target for me to grind my teeth and mutter 'shit talk' about, under my breath, while I'm sweating and swearing and want to stab someone. (That'll show that skinny bitch!) :) So... why not try it? My 10 year old Daughter and I decide to watch it first, so we know what we are in for. (When I say 'we'... I mean... 'I'. She dances 10-12 hours every week, does gymnastics, and has a 6 pack. She'll be fine. Plus... jumping up and down repeatedly isn't nearly as painful when you only weigh 50 pounds, and don't have DD cup boobs. I'm scared.) We were about 7 minutes in, and I noticed that even the ripped bitches, who she has demonstrating these God forsaken moves, are dripping in sweat and panting a little. Was my girlfriend for real? She does this shit!? Is it easier than it looks!? Cuz... seriously... I was exhausted just watching it. Was *I breaking out in a sweat? And panting? Ish... I was just in the viewing phase! I guess I felt the need to see for myself. Nothing like jumping right in!
I put on my sports bra, closed the curtains... (just in case someone were to drive by, happen to look in here, sees me flailing around like a victim of sorts, and think I'm being attacked by an intruder. It could happen... and I don't need the cops here again. Like... ever again.) and gave it a good old Community College try. (Disclaimer: I wore a tank top as well... all children's eyes were spared during this process) It was pretty brutal. Just like I thought. Level one is a bitch. Yes... I said level one. I felt like one of those sad, pathetic, 'I used to be so hot' chicks, on the Biggest Loser... who cry a bunch about their hefty weight gains... and then secretly, and feverishly, search for the camera crew's leftover donuts, when the camera is not on them. Quite appropriate, actually. :) I used to have a pretty decent bod too... And a fantastic, full length mirror that told me I looked long and lean... even on my shortest, squattest days :) (Oh, how I miss that mirror!!) And here I am now. Facing off with Jillian. Ew. :) I didn't lunge as low as what'shernuts, with the curly hair. She can Eff right off. I didn't do 'Man' push ups either... but I did it. And I didn't die! My son actually came and sat on the couch right next to me. His face was a tell-tale sign that things were jiggling in all the wrong places. He tried, with all of his might, not to laugh at me... to no avail. Why is it so much cuter when my daughter is doing all of this nonsense? I just look like a heffer on hot coals. :( So... after much laughter, sweat, teeth grinding, and bouncing... I actually felt pretty good about things! This should be a cinch by day 5 or 6!! I immediately slammed a bunch of water and smoked half of a cig. It didn't taste good. I sorta love Jillian!! All was well... until a half hour later, when I had to carry a laundry basket down the stairs...
My legs already feel like Jello, and I may have actually ripped my butt open. I'm not sure. My shoulders feel like they are in a vice grip, and my arms are shaking as I type this. I'm gonna be sore as HELL tomorrow... But, so help me God, I'm doing it again. I may even start to like the burn? Ok... that's pushing it, and a total lie... but hopefully I will dig the results. I even thought about taking before and after pictures, and walking myself through the process by blogging about it. (Mostly because I still don't really know why I even have a blog... or what I should blog about. I'm all 'new' and stuff. :)) But I won't. That is boring and totally overdone. Not to mention... nobody wants to see the 'before'. Maybe I'll take a '30 days in' photo or something instead :) For now I'm just gonna groove on the fact that I'm being somewhat proactive, and my kids go back to school tomorrow, so I can sweat and bawl in peace. :) I'm gonna turn those Fs into As before I know it! (Or at least Cs!! Now... if only I could figure out how to do that with my boobs...) The laundry can wait... I'll get to it when I'm all svelte. :)
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
It Was What It Was...
So... I know I tend to go on and on about how much the holidays 'rock my world'...and I just can't wait for them... and I'm oh so busy decorating, cooking, baking, shopping, cleaning, enjoying every minute and such... but let me tell you... this holiday season pretty much sucked the life out of me!! :) In fact... this whole YEAR knocked it out of me... From the minute the clock struck midnight, on December 31st, 2010... It has been.. 'on'? One blow after another, in various forms, making this one for the record books, for me and everyone around me. I thought about making a list, as a reference for when I think things are going badly, and so I don't forget anytime soon... but then, that would be depressing. So... here it is:
1) My kid (Who I'm assuming is psychic) bawled her eyes out on New Years Eve. This just dawned on me the other day, and it totally made sense and weirded me out. Totally set the stage for what was to come. I sent her to a friend's house this year... so I wouldn't even see her reaction. Genius on my part. Or just plain paranoia.:)
2) It snowed like the dickens alll Winter. Starting in early November. I'm not talking a few, garden variety blizzards either. I live in Minnesota. I expect those. I'm talking every weekend, we got 648 feet of snow. Every weekend. Even in May. I was drowning in SADD... with no end in sight. For real. It was brutal...
3) My friends. This has been a year of forgiveness, battles, words, learning, struggles, coping, making up and 'breaking up' with people who mean so much to me. I have felt like I'm back in high school, and also been proud of myself for standing up for 'this guy'. :) My closest friendships have been tested... some have failed. All in all, it was just a tough year. I think we all had PMS for 12 months. (Or maybe it was just me... it's possible...) :)
4) I turned 35. Now... this may not seem like the end of the world for some people... but it was a very tough time for me. I'm now officially too old for most things I enjoy. I will never be able to go to a bar downtown again without feeling like a creepy cougar, and I have maybe 3 eggs left for reproductive purposes. Those 2 things alone are hard enough to swallow. I also can no longer be on the birth control pill and smoke simultaneously, shop at Wet Seal or forever 21, correctly wear the latest trends, overdo jewelry, get a tattoo, or any of the things I used to do. After all, I am now, for all intents and purposes, technically 40.
5) My Mother in Law was diagnosed with, and eventually beat, Brest Cancer. Many surgeries, treatments and... well... I need not elaborate... it just sucked. Especially the part about me having to shave her head. Nobody should have to do that for someone they love. But, yet... you should be able to lean on someone you love to do that for you? Ugh... it all sucked.
6) Some of our closest friends moved to Texas. These are people that are like family to all 4 of us, and we spent a lot of time with them. My kids were crushed. Tried to find the silver lining in that by saying we now have a reason to visit, and give Houston a real problem... but we can't afford to fly all 4 of us down there. Miss them... :(
7) My job. I lost so many clients this year, I'm not sure I'm even considered a Stylist anymore. It's like... There is a place I go... where I do a couple of people's hair... every once in a while. It blows. Everyone is broke. Therefore... so am I.
8) I got a citation for 'Disturbing the Peace', because my neighbor had a Halloween party. WHAT?!?! I haven't even spoken to a police officer in a decade. This year we had them here on 4 separate occasions... (and I now have a record? Ew.) which brings me to the next number on my list...
9) The Ghostess with the mostest. (As we lovingly call it...) My Daughter, you know... the one who bawled on New Year's Eve... got up in the middle of the night to find a 'person' creepily sitting on my couch, 'communicating' with my dog. We told her it was her Dad, and she bought it (kind of) but we had no choice but to have the police come and investigate. People are weird, and we live on a public park... you just never know. Turns out, the officer was a believer in the spirit world, and chalked it up to we have a ghost. Super. (However, I was already aware of this... as strange children have been spotted in the background of pictures with my own children... Wanna come over? You can sleep on the couch? All alone with our new 'friends', who may, or may not, also have PMS?) :)
10) Not sure if I told you, but... my Son got hit by a car on his bike, and was left bleeding and unconscious in the street. For real. I mean... hit and runs happen all the time, right? 2011 was just prime time for happenings such as these. Nobody ever came forward, and I spent that dreadful, 35th birthday of mine, at Childrens Hospital. It was, perhaps, the worst thing I have been through. Coming around the corner and seeing my kid... Ugh. Again... no need to elaborate.
11) My kids were both put in a before school reading program for some 'extra help'. Which... is the school's secret way of telling me that I failed as a Mother.
12) I was sicker than a dog for most of the Summer. Including Girls' Weekend. Oh... and had a double kidney infection in the Spring. Oh... and my Gal Bladder was failing for a minute and I had 19 (well...4...) doctor's appointments before they figured it out. I even got to drink ishy, chalky, butterscotch (Or butt and crotch) stuff and have a crabby old lady take pictures of my insides. Stressed out much? When in doubt... just get really sick...
Blah blah blah... tons of other crap... and now here comes the holiday season...
13) Thanksgiving came and went with no real event. It was beautiful outside, and we were all at Grandpa Norris's house. He had just come home from the nursing home. He had been in rehab for his broken hip. Cuz... yeah... he fell and broke his hip in 2011. Shocking. We all got along, ate like pigs, and played football outside. Nobody threw cutlery this year, and my Mother in Law even left her wig at home, as some of the hair she lost during Chemo is slowly, but surely, coming back. I actually thought to myself... Could things be looking up? Whoops... spoke too soon. 2 days later we get a call "Grandpa didn't make it through the night." We had to go to my Grandfather in Law's house... with my bald, breastless Mother in Law, who just found her deceased Father... and sit with his body for 2 hours until the funeral home FINALLY came to get him. My poor Husband. His Grandpa was like his 2nd Dad. But... it's 2011. Buckle up... it just keeps coming.
14) My Son lost his marbles after loosing Great Grandpa Norris. He was very close to him, and has already had a rough go of things this year. He lost it at the funeral, and cried for 3 days prior to it. My poor, sensi, baby guy. :( His lip is still not quite 'right' after his accident either... and when he sobs... it gets stuck to his top teeth... and... Ugh.
15) Someone stepped on my foot...really hard... wearing a man boot... and broke my pinky toe. It just is what it is.
16) About a week before Christmas, (Crunch time, as I call it) we got a 5:00 am. wake up call from my Father in Law. He needed to be rushed to the emergency room. And we have to take his dog. His ginormous, 13 year old, Golden Retriever... who hasn't had a bath in 3 years... I'm sure of it. Welcome back, sinus infection. We had him for 4 days. Long enough for me to bathe him, fall madly in love with him, and have to give him back. :( Miss you, Renegade... Mama loves you... :)
17) In the meantime... Christmas has arrived. As I check facebook... I keep seeing pictures of elves in various 'wild and crazy' places and positions, and the guilt/panic sets in. Thanks, overachieving Moms out there. I haven't even had time to hit Toys R Us. I bet your kids haven't shed one tear this month as they oohd and ahhd over your Christmas genius. Mine have been bawling for months. That sure is one loco elf you have there... you bitch. :) I never got around to sending Christmas cards either. First time in 11 years. What a Christmas loser. I also had Amazon and ebay screw up some deliveries, so I needed to get my ass in gear, and finish my list. (Or... ListS) We went into 'get 'er done' mode... and eventually...well... got 'er done. Then I drank wine for 3 straight days... burned out my liver, gained 63 pounds, and eventually broke my finger while playing Wii bowling. (Unfortunately it wasn't my middle finger...that would have been the topper...to it all...) :) That, also, just is what it is, and an appropriate ending to what may have been the oddest, most stressful year ever.
I have intentionally left out several things in this list. It was also the year of the salon debacle, the toenail debacle, close friends losing parents, birds dropping from the sky for no apparent reason, divorces, dance stress, and a whole lot of other stuff. I'm not complaining, really. Just trying to remember to appreciate a good day. Even though I cried more this year than any before... I also laughed a bunch, felt all sorts of support, and tried to embrace all of this as lessons that I clearly needed to learn. I'm convinced that after this year, I can get through pretty much anything. After handling everything from disappointment, death, loss of friendships, sick parents, finding a gray eyebrow hair... to a broken kid... I am now a stronger person. So there. :) It was what it was, and here's to moving forward and making this year one of the best! So far, it has been 50 degrees since November, there is no snow on the ground, my Husband got good news at work, I had 2 new clients at work, my finger is better, and all of my Christmas stuff is FINALLY put away. Moving on. How is THAT for a positive attitude?! :)
1) My kid (Who I'm assuming is psychic) bawled her eyes out on New Years Eve. This just dawned on me the other day, and it totally made sense and weirded me out. Totally set the stage for what was to come. I sent her to a friend's house this year... so I wouldn't even see her reaction. Genius on my part. Or just plain paranoia.:)
2) It snowed like the dickens alll Winter. Starting in early November. I'm not talking a few, garden variety blizzards either. I live in Minnesota. I expect those. I'm talking every weekend, we got 648 feet of snow. Every weekend. Even in May. I was drowning in SADD... with no end in sight. For real. It was brutal...
3) My friends. This has been a year of forgiveness, battles, words, learning, struggles, coping, making up and 'breaking up' with people who mean so much to me. I have felt like I'm back in high school, and also been proud of myself for standing up for 'this guy'. :) My closest friendships have been tested... some have failed. All in all, it was just a tough year. I think we all had PMS for 12 months. (Or maybe it was just me... it's possible...) :)
4) I turned 35. Now... this may not seem like the end of the world for some people... but it was a very tough time for me. I'm now officially too old for most things I enjoy. I will never be able to go to a bar downtown again without feeling like a creepy cougar, and I have maybe 3 eggs left for reproductive purposes. Those 2 things alone are hard enough to swallow. I also can no longer be on the birth control pill and smoke simultaneously, shop at Wet Seal or forever 21, correctly wear the latest trends, overdo jewelry, get a tattoo, or any of the things I used to do. After all, I am now, for all intents and purposes, technically 40.
5) My Mother in Law was diagnosed with, and eventually beat, Brest Cancer. Many surgeries, treatments and... well... I need not elaborate... it just sucked. Especially the part about me having to shave her head. Nobody should have to do that for someone they love. But, yet... you should be able to lean on someone you love to do that for you? Ugh... it all sucked.
6) Some of our closest friends moved to Texas. These are people that are like family to all 4 of us, and we spent a lot of time with them. My kids were crushed. Tried to find the silver lining in that by saying we now have a reason to visit, and give Houston a real problem... but we can't afford to fly all 4 of us down there. Miss them... :(
7) My job. I lost so many clients this year, I'm not sure I'm even considered a Stylist anymore. It's like... There is a place I go... where I do a couple of people's hair... every once in a while. It blows. Everyone is broke. Therefore... so am I.
8) I got a citation for 'Disturbing the Peace', because my neighbor had a Halloween party. WHAT?!?! I haven't even spoken to a police officer in a decade. This year we had them here on 4 separate occasions... (and I now have a record? Ew.) which brings me to the next number on my list...
9) The Ghostess with the mostest. (As we lovingly call it...) My Daughter, you know... the one who bawled on New Year's Eve... got up in the middle of the night to find a 'person' creepily sitting on my couch, 'communicating' with my dog. We told her it was her Dad, and she bought it (kind of) but we had no choice but to have the police come and investigate. People are weird, and we live on a public park... you just never know. Turns out, the officer was a believer in the spirit world, and chalked it up to we have a ghost. Super. (However, I was already aware of this... as strange children have been spotted in the background of pictures with my own children... Wanna come over? You can sleep on the couch? All alone with our new 'friends', who may, or may not, also have PMS?) :)
10) Not sure if I told you, but... my Son got hit by a car on his bike, and was left bleeding and unconscious in the street. For real. I mean... hit and runs happen all the time, right? 2011 was just prime time for happenings such as these. Nobody ever came forward, and I spent that dreadful, 35th birthday of mine, at Childrens Hospital. It was, perhaps, the worst thing I have been through. Coming around the corner and seeing my kid... Ugh. Again... no need to elaborate.
11) My kids were both put in a before school reading program for some 'extra help'. Which... is the school's secret way of telling me that I failed as a Mother.
12) I was sicker than a dog for most of the Summer. Including Girls' Weekend. Oh... and had a double kidney infection in the Spring. Oh... and my Gal Bladder was failing for a minute and I had 19 (well...4...) doctor's appointments before they figured it out. I even got to drink ishy, chalky, butterscotch (Or butt and crotch) stuff and have a crabby old lady take pictures of my insides. Stressed out much? When in doubt... just get really sick...
Blah blah blah... tons of other crap... and now here comes the holiday season...
13) Thanksgiving came and went with no real event. It was beautiful outside, and we were all at Grandpa Norris's house. He had just come home from the nursing home. He had been in rehab for his broken hip. Cuz... yeah... he fell and broke his hip in 2011. Shocking. We all got along, ate like pigs, and played football outside. Nobody threw cutlery this year, and my Mother in Law even left her wig at home, as some of the hair she lost during Chemo is slowly, but surely, coming back. I actually thought to myself... Could things be looking up? Whoops... spoke too soon. 2 days later we get a call "Grandpa didn't make it through the night." We had to go to my Grandfather in Law's house... with my bald, breastless Mother in Law, who just found her deceased Father... and sit with his body for 2 hours until the funeral home FINALLY came to get him. My poor Husband. His Grandpa was like his 2nd Dad. But... it's 2011. Buckle up... it just keeps coming.
14) My Son lost his marbles after loosing Great Grandpa Norris. He was very close to him, and has already had a rough go of things this year. He lost it at the funeral, and cried for 3 days prior to it. My poor, sensi, baby guy. :( His lip is still not quite 'right' after his accident either... and when he sobs... it gets stuck to his top teeth... and... Ugh.
15) Someone stepped on my foot...really hard... wearing a man boot... and broke my pinky toe. It just is what it is.
16) About a week before Christmas, (Crunch time, as I call it) we got a 5:00 am. wake up call from my Father in Law. He needed to be rushed to the emergency room. And we have to take his dog. His ginormous, 13 year old, Golden Retriever... who hasn't had a bath in 3 years... I'm sure of it. Welcome back, sinus infection. We had him for 4 days. Long enough for me to bathe him, fall madly in love with him, and have to give him back. :( Miss you, Renegade... Mama loves you... :)
17) In the meantime... Christmas has arrived. As I check facebook... I keep seeing pictures of elves in various 'wild and crazy' places and positions, and the guilt/panic sets in. Thanks, overachieving Moms out there. I haven't even had time to hit Toys R Us. I bet your kids haven't shed one tear this month as they oohd and ahhd over your Christmas genius. Mine have been bawling for months. That sure is one loco elf you have there... you bitch. :) I never got around to sending Christmas cards either. First time in 11 years. What a Christmas loser. I also had Amazon and ebay screw up some deliveries, so I needed to get my ass in gear, and finish my list. (Or... ListS) We went into 'get 'er done' mode... and eventually...well... got 'er done. Then I drank wine for 3 straight days... burned out my liver, gained 63 pounds, and eventually broke my finger while playing Wii bowling. (Unfortunately it wasn't my middle finger...that would have been the topper...to it all...) :) That, also, just is what it is, and an appropriate ending to what may have been the oddest, most stressful year ever.
I have intentionally left out several things in this list. It was also the year of the salon debacle, the toenail debacle, close friends losing parents, birds dropping from the sky for no apparent reason, divorces, dance stress, and a whole lot of other stuff. I'm not complaining, really. Just trying to remember to appreciate a good day. Even though I cried more this year than any before... I also laughed a bunch, felt all sorts of support, and tried to embrace all of this as lessons that I clearly needed to learn. I'm convinced that after this year, I can get through pretty much anything. After handling everything from disappointment, death, loss of friendships, sick parents, finding a gray eyebrow hair... to a broken kid... I am now a stronger person. So there. :) It was what it was, and here's to moving forward and making this year one of the best! So far, it has been 50 degrees since November, there is no snow on the ground, my Husband got good news at work, I had 2 new clients at work, my finger is better, and all of my Christmas stuff is FINALLY put away. Moving on. How is THAT for a positive attitude?! :)
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