Category Archives: Nonsense

Great big happy

I am happy.  For a lot of reasons, but mostly for a few very small ones.

I pulled in to the driveway this morning on my way back from the gym and a smile spread across my face.  That kind of smile you can’t possibly contain.  All because I saw Mike’s car.  I walked inside and told him that while I was aware that one day he’d get a new car, the idea of it kind of makes me sad.  Something about seeing his big old grandfather car… it makes me smile.  Deep inside.  That kind of smile you get when you see the boy you like.  Or that your favorite dessert is the dessert special at the restaurant where you decided to have dinner.  That kind of smile that makes you feel like you are the Winner.  I walked inside to see my sweet little lady, all dressed, hair brushed, matching headband and all.  “I’m awake, Mike just got up,” she reported.  I looked past her to the kitchen and saw Mike all sleepyfaced in his pajama pants.  I tried to tell him about that smile, the smile that was so big.  “I spent so many evenings sitting on my front porch, pretending I wasn’t waiting to see if you’d stop by, and you always came… you always did.  And as soon as I’d see your car…” I think I trailed off there, my face buried  in his shoulder, as if he couldn’t hear the sappy HolyShitWeAre GettingMarriedinLessThanTwoMonthsAndIAmSoExcited tears in my voice.

I usually jump right in the shower in the morning when I get home.  I lingered in the kitchen.  We laughed a lot this morning.  About SALAD.  Because we love to say SALAD!   We tried to tell Em for the zillionth time that she was doomed to be a “crazy person,” too, one day.  Her words for when she is less than amused with our antics.  She cut us off.  With a wave of her hand and an”I’ve heard this all before” face.  We laughed some more.

It’s raining today.  Not a reason to be happy by most folk’s standards.  But not everyone has these ass-kicking rain boots, either.

I took my time this morning. I stopped to laugh in the kitchen.   I stole a real, grown-up kiss from MQD before the interloper barged in to the bathroom.   I helped Em pick out her job at school today, and she showed me a picture she had made. I walked through three puddles on my way in to the office.  I chased Fisher down the driveway at work.  I took my time.  And I was at my desk only eight minutes later than average.

Day 76: Shoes!!

Day 76: Wear shoes that are one size too small, then you will experience huge relief when you come home and take them off!

This wasn’t a tough challenge for me. In the very beginning of my journey through the book I revealed my tiny little shoe problem.  I have tons of shoes I rarely wear anymore.  Some because I don’t really have  a need for my Frankenstein-esque clodhopppers and some because I can’t squeeze my 10.5 size feet in to my size 10 shoes.  But since I have been squeezing my ass in to jeans I never thought would fit again recently I figured, hell, why not? Maybe my shoes will fit again, too.

No dice.  These were none too comfortable, and will surely feel fabulous to take off this evening.   As you can see the entire subject exhausts Fisher.

Day 68: One single hair…

Day 68: Choose one single hair to grow out one yard long.

“I want it long, straight, curly, fuzzy, snaggy, shaggy, ratty, matty, oily, greasy, fleecy, shining…” you know the drill. HAIR!!

I do not.  Want Hair!  My mother would beg to differ. She subscribes to the secret rule that after a “certain age” your hair shouldn’t be “but so long.”  I am not sure what this age is, exactly.  Or how long even “too long” really is… but I do know that my hair is too long and I am past that age.  For a short time after Em was born I felt like I was masquerading as a grown up.  Like in spite of the fact that I had a kid hanging on my boob twenty-one hours a day I was not really a mom, not really a card carrying Grown Up.  So, I cut  my hair.  As you can see, my shorter hair did nothing to grow me up, or to discourage me from wearing a pirate eye patch while out to dinner.

And then my short hair made me feel like I was pretending to be a Grown Up.   Not only was I carting around this kid, and trying to get my act together but I was starting to actually behave like a grown up.  So I put a stop to that promptly.

There’s nothing like Manic Panic to make a girl feel like she is in touch with her juvenile roots.  All of this to say that the subject of hair and whether or not one lets it grow is a subject I spend a fair amount of time thinking about.  And while I am currently in a stage of defiantly having “too long hair” I can say with absolute certainty the hair on my legs is not party to this plan.

I shave every day.  I can’t stand it when I don’t.  It’s not for anyone but me.  I think if I didn’t shave my legs a shower complete with face wash, shampoo, conditioner and moisturizing soap rub down would max out at about four minutes.   MQD stays in the shower for twenty minutes on a day he is in a hurry.  I have never understood what exactly long showerers do in there.  Perhaps my need to shave my legs every day is just a way to necessitate being in the shower a full seven minutes.    I don’t think I am less clean than the long showerer.  I’d guess I am lazier, maybe.  I do love an extra snooze.  Or two.  But even when I am not under the gun of getting out the door at a certain time I don’t dick around in the shower.  So today?  Today’s shower took six minutes.  But Em was in there with me.  Saving water and all.

And I didn’t shave.  I’m nuts.  I’m wild and free.  And I am shaving tomorrow morning.  I feel weird.  And as for growing out one single hair, I’m gonna go with the one that means I am Grown Up when I cut it.  Because that’s just not happening anytime soon. So lemme know if you know which one that is.  Because I should probably cut the rest of them.  What Not To Wear and my mother say so.

Day 66 & 67: Save Water & One Day Detox

Day 66 is a simple challenge.  Save water. Day 67 is fairly simple, as well, a one-day detox from your substance of choice.  As has frequently been the case as I work my way through this book, they are both well timed challenges.

As for saving water, we can safely say that my household is  saving water this week.  Quite a bit of it.  MQD is gone this week, embracing his METAL roots, so Em and I are on our own.  Which means our water usage is down BIG time.  No showers for MQD, none of his laundry and since Em likes to be glued to my side when he is gone she has managed to sneak in to the shower with me for the last two days. But the big picture?  I have upped my water intake.  Drinking at least 100 oz of water a day for the last three days in preparation for… day 67!   So… good thing we are if an “if it’s yellow…” household.

Today is day one of my 21 day detox and cleanse.  It was suggested to me by my cult leader, I mean, chiropractor. So, I am on all raw foods, fruits and veggies for ten days and then will slowly add in lean proteins.  Slamming down three bark-flavored protein supplement shakes a day.  I am itching to get back to the gym but will try and take it easy for another week or two.  Just in case you are playing along at home, my back is feeling better every day.  I slept last night, pinned between my dog and the kiddo, and still woke up feeling rested.

To the lucky folks expecting mail from me, it should be headed your way by the end of the week.  Envelopes addressed, pictures ready to be scanned and printed.

Day 64: Live MAIL! Free Money!!

Day 64 has me smiling!  Because it’s fun, back in the spirit of the book and the challenges.  Smack dab in the middle of PMS Town, no less, I am grinning.  Go, me.  Day 64’s challenge “Today send a letter at random with a  photograph of yourself and  a $5 bill with no return address, see what comes of it.”

So, if you think I don’t know your address and you’d get a kick out of a five spot and a picture of yours truly leave me an anonymous  comment that will make me keep smiling.  I’ll pick one of you at random and drop you a line, a picture  and enough cold hard cash for a cup o’ Joe.  I’ll delete the comments immediately so your address isn’t out on the interwebz for all to see.  And you can put a BS email in the email line.  Actually, come to think of it, anyone that bothers to give me their mailing address in the next day or two will get something in the mail.  But one of you lucky ducks will get a five spot.  Shit, I ought to pay you for reading.  It’s still cheaper than the therapist.

I’m waiting on you…



Day 61: How Symmetrical Is Your Face?

Day 61 asks you to measure your face with string and to calculate the distance between your center line and each pupil, the corner’s of your mouth, etc and ultimately determine just how symmetrical is your face.   Several years ago a study was released that showed that “attractiveness” can essentially be measured across cultures (and species) by determining  just how symmetrical a person’s physique is or is not.

I tried to measure my face with a piece of tape (this was highly amusing!) and quickly became frustrated with my process.  And as a person that was secretly concerned that she was going to do all these calculations only to determine that she was actually ugly… well, I wasn’t trying to spend all day getting it done.  With a little googling I found a website that could help me out.

I think I might have had better results if I’d not taken the picture myself, since it is virtually impossible to get a full frontal (heh) face picture without a little tilt.  But here we go….

My original picture: (showcasing the marks on my nose from my glasses, the dark circles under my eyes from lack of sleep and my crow’s-feet, proof positive that it is in no way touched up.)

face

And here’s what I’d look like if both sides of my face looked like the left side:
faceleft

Like a pinhead… which is not really that far from the truth. But a pinhead with a kind of cute cupid’s bow, no?

And the right side:
faceright

So what did I take away from this assignment?  A few things.  One – I need to invest in some decent under eye concealer.  Or kick everyone out of the bed for a night or two and get some sleep.  Two – My bangs are really growing out finally… it almost looks like I have these layers on purpose.  And three – I kinda think the right side duplication pretty much looks like me.  Leading me to believe that my face is pretty damn symmetrical.  Thus… in the least few  days I have determined that I am not crazy and that I am beeeyoootiful.  Or that  a primate would likely mate with me.  Or something.

Cheater, cheater pumpkin eater….

This is a lame post… but I got a kick out of this, make a collage of your facebook status’ of 2010.

Almost hilarious…

There are moments in my life that are almost hilarious.  And this morning was one of them.  Steve Burns from Blue’s Clues has a word for his kind of almost famous, fam-ish.  So, I guess this morning was hilari-ish.  These “almost hilarious” or hilari-ish moments often include a scenario that is not particularly amusing to anyone else there, but inside my head, with a  few small changes to the players and the scene… ahh, how hilarity would ensue.

On my way in to the office this morning a co-worker called me.  He has a cryptic way of asking me questions pretty regularly, so I am wary with my answers.  I never know if I am being conned in to lending a helping hand and this morning was a perfect example.  “Are you coming to work today by any chance?” Don’t I always? “Well, where exactly are you?”  And I’m thinking, umm… I’m four minutes from the office and running about twenty-one minutes ahead of schedule.  I’m kind of a fanatic about being on time.  I rounded the corner before the second to last turn on my way to my office and I saw his truck.  Ahhh… it was all clear to me now.  He was out of gas.  About fifteen feet on the other side of a tiny little bridge.   There was very little space for him to pull over and traffic was piling up behind him.  I waved and kept on towards the office where I could pick up a gas can and return and save the day.

It turned out I was lucky!  There was a can at the office with several gallons of gas so I was able to snag it and head right back to where his car was parked.  By the time I got back there I could  see the blue lights flashing. One of Carrboro’s finest had pulled in behind him  and was directing traffic.  I slipped in behind the cop car and hopped out.  My co-worker grabbed the gas can and I waited to make sure that he had enough to get his truck started.

It was after he got underway that my internal dialogue started getting funnier and funnier.  The cop had on this ridiculous traffic vest.  He headed back towards his car and removed his vest.  And then he walked back towards the middle of the street and put his arm out and stopped the oncoming traffic.  He looked back at me, pointed, and I shit you not, he winked and gave the “all clear” sign.  It was everything I could do to not get hysterical.  There was a little part of me that wanted to drive really slowly past him, checking the sides of his pants for velcro.

But sadly…. Village People inspired male strippers really only show up on a Tuesday morning at 9 am inside my head, almost never in the middle of the street.  And really even more rarely are hired by my co-workers to ambush me.  And it’s too damn bad. That was way funnier than what actually happened.

So long… see ya around…

Ever wonder if it is “normal” or even a good thing that no one ever just drifts away anymore, given the ease with which we all maintain digital connections? I’ve had his phone number on a small piece of paper in my wallet for more than a week now and I can not just pick up the phone and say “I am really sorry to hear about your father.”

Because I’ll hear his voice and feel a familiar pang all the while knowing that in reality I am on the phone with a stranger… He is such a huge part of my heart in a strange way, taught me to love freely without reservation or fear and that became so much of who I am that I almost can’t see him as a real person… He’s a memory to me, that’s perfect and sweet and sad and wonderful. And when I hear from him, I want to reach out, to reach back and it is so hard…. because we don’t really know each other anymore. I don’t really remember anymore… being fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen… I only know that he was there.   And my family was changing, my parents redefining themselves, and I held on to you because I wanted something to be my forever.  I had no idea then that nothing lasts forever.  Not your family, not you, not me, nothing.  Even those that endure, it’s not forever.  They start anew, redefine themselves, grow, evolve and change along with you, if you are lucky.

Sometimes you hear from someone and you think, “Oh, I’d love for you to meet my kids/dog/husband/present life” and have a beer and share a laugh. And sometimes you hear from someone and you think I’d love to pull up beside you in a parking lot, get out of my car, put my arms around your neck, make you sure you still smell exactly the same, confirm that your hands feel exactly the same as they always have when you wipe my tears off my cheek, whisper quietly “hello, I am here if you need me, thank you” and get back in the car and drive away and let it all remain in the past. Where it belongs. Because it was perfect there.

So, b, if you read this… I am sorry about your father.  He was a really stand-up guy.  Made me laugh and not feel awkward, which wasn’t easy to do as the fourteen year old girlfriend. And if I see my teenage self around I’ll have her call you.  Because she’d know what to say.  To you.

Dominos!

Sometimes when you’re playing dominos you think it would be more fun if everyone had a costume. And if you’re me you have the clown costume your mom made for the Clowntastic Event on hand. Long live 1982.