|
QueenSuchAndSuch
|
read my profile
sign my guestbook
Location: Illinois, United States
Interests: I am a voracious reader and the creator of my very own book club within my local moms group. I read 2-3 books a week at a leisurely pace and the months selection the night before. But dont tell them that!
I love CSI and Numb3rs and all things that make you go Hmmm?
I also love to paint, thats mine at the top, and sew and aparantly now I like to scrapbook (thats so much darling 2nd child for the newest expensive habit) and am looking to learn to knit and quilt. Oh and I host every event my moms group will let me! Just call the the social butterfly but honestly, I ranked as Edie instead of Bree.
Expertise: I've been told to write a book so many times I dont remember when it started, but since I have the attention span of a teenager, here I am. ADD? Nah, just the fact that when you get pregnant your brain slowly moves to the placenta which they pluck from you, so you are left with the 400 songs you learned before you turned 16 and all those memories of what a rotten child you were which you try vainly to turn into lessons for your own children which then backfire. I have apostrphes and refuse to use them. Hah! rebellion in my old age!
Occupation: Other
Message: message me
Member Since:
8/12/2005
|
|
SubscriptionsSites I Read
|
|
|
|
| Isn't it just like God (or insert your own deity) to bring you down a notch just when you think everything is going so well?
It started with my computer which kicked it last byte the other day. I think all my precious baby pics of the youngest are on there somewhere but I will have to wait for the techno weenie to take a look at it. Then when the newer computer was finally up and running the printer I so desperately needed to print the Christmas cards refuses to acknowledge the new computer (perhaps it wasn't polite enough in the intros) so here I am a week before Christmas three weeks behind schedule.
Speaking of behind schedule: the cheerleader's coaches who have been freaking out about some ponytail hairpiece that everyone just HAS to have for competition and who your's truly almost died (yes really) procuring, has canceled all the competitions until next month. Nice. Oh the dying part, you'll just love this:
So we live in the southwest suburbs of Chicago. Not a particulary dangerous place, except that the neighboring town just happened to be the home of a recently closed penitentiary and all that goes along with that. The cheerleading coach, a youngish, blondish and slightly disorganized woman, found the exact hairpiece she wanted the girls to wear (mind you, they all have GADS of their own hair) at this lovely little boutique in said town. That was sarcasm. Since she never could get around to giving me a proper address or directions or even a bat signal, I took the cheerleader's word on how to get there and immediately found myself on the wrong side of the tracks, literally. I pulled over to call directory assistance and heard some oddly placed popping noises. Joking to my girlfriend next to me about leaving my gun at home, I was promptly dropped from my call and decided to just wing it. Half a block later, I spotted the hair piece place and pulled in. This wasn't what I would call upscale or even dollar store presentation. No no. This place had bars on the windows, paper covering the glass in the front door and a small man peering through a crack. Fabulous. Inching my way into the store the first thing I hear was:
"Who got shot man?"
Oh yes. That popping noise was the Christmassy sounds of a gang shoot out that I was thankfully, due to the inherited lack of directional skills of my cheerleader, moments too late for.
Needless to say, I got the damn pony tail hair piece thing and got the hell outta dodge. I intend to bring this up at the next cheerleading meeting tonight.
To top it off, the youngest, who just got over a nasty bout of pneumonia, has got yet another respiratory infection. And when I got home from my brush with the gangs, I immediately fell victim to a nasty stomach virus. I don't think I need to describe that.
So here I am a week from Christmas, reminded that I am NOT supermom and I don't have the power to whip up thoughtful and meaningful gifts for a family of seven on a whim and am heading to Target....for gift cards.
If you see a woman, slightly green about the gills, don't walk up behind me and yell "BANG! RATATAT! BOOM!" I am a bit dodgy on the heart.
| | |
| You know what I just love about Christmas? How everyone is just filled with good will toward their fellow humans and are such good sports while out and about around the holidays. People hold doors open, allow you to go first in the check out lane, graciously hand over the very last Please-Kill-Me Elmo. I just love that. But back to reality. I hate everyone. All of you people in the stores that feel the need to buy 89 things and then chat with the clerk about their return policy or send some poor schmoe to the home decor aisle to find another candle just like the one you have because the lable is bent back. Or worse, the jerk who bitches in line for 20 minutes about the poor mom with 5 kids who was asked to come to a special lane to check out because said jerk is SOOO much more important. To all you people who use their shiny Denali's to bully a lone femal driven sedan out of pulling into the pump she were waiting for. For the jackass that yells at the Starbuck barista because they have to wait 20 seconds more for their latte while she runs her scalded hand under some cold water. For all you people out there whose inner bastard comes out this time of year or are just complete fuckers all year long: There are mom's holding their dying children right now, that would give anything to be waiting forever in a line at a store to buy their kids Christmas presents. There are soldiers overseas in harm's way who are fighting for that gas you are in such a hurry to burn. There are millions of homeless families that would welcome the warmth of a coffee shop instead of the fatal cold of the streets. So for all you people who just HAVE to be assholes: Merry Fucking Christmas from all us nice people. We love you anyway, even if it kills us. After all, we know Santa is bringing your kids Kill-Me Elmo! We bought the batteries! | | |
| At the Christmas seasons approach, I find myself reluctant to get in the full swing of it. My kids are listening to Christmas carols, the littlest has already seen Santa, put up her very own mini tree in her room and has a 12" snow globe blowing styrofoam around a family of snowmen who are supposed to be singing. That at least is funny. Look like I imagine I would if my kid dragged me out to carol. I would be drunk and loud, N8 would be sober and louder and Avery would finally understand why mommy only sings in the car. Anyway, the stockings are in the process of being hand sewn. The christmas lists compiles and divvied up, the party is planned, the theme is just about set and I find myself clinging to Thanksgiving. Much like a drunk clings to her barstool unwilling to relinguish her place for a more suitable one on the floor. But I am CRANKY! big time. For the last few days since i waxed poetic about the meaning of theseason and all my creativty flowing, I have found myself wanting to hide under the covers and come out after New Years. Ok. Maybe for New Years Eve. I think its the lack of sunshine really. I was diagnosed with Seasonal Affective Disorder while in college. Back East. Where the sun breaks through the smog at least once a week, usually after a military jet breaks the sound barrier. Digressing again. Here in the midwest, the sun comes up between the hours of 8am and 4:30pm. Or so they say on the news. All I see is grey. Everything is grey and its really really depressing. So.... If anyone has some sunshine they arent using, please blow it my way. I could use just a few minutes of sunlight, the pretty yellow kind that gives you cancer. I would really really appreciate it. Otherwise I think I may have to hibernate with the hamster (who knew they did that?) for the duration of winter...which is until May 2007. | | |
| | | | | Sheryl Crow/Marti Frederiksen Walk with me the diamond road
Tell me every story told
Give me something of your soul
That I can hold onto
I want to wake up to the sound of waves
Crashing on a brand new day
Keep the memory of your face
But wipe the pain away When you're lonely (you're not alone)
When you're heart aches (on Diamond Road)
It's gonna take a little time
Yeah, it's gonna take a little time
When the night falls (you're not alone)
When you're stumbling (on Diamond Road)
It's gonna take a little time
To make it to the other side
So don't miss the diamonds along the way Every road has led us here today
Little bird, what's troubling you
You know what you have to do
What is yours you'll never lose
And what's ahead may shine
Beneath the promise of blue skies
With broken wings we'll learn to fly
Pull yourself out of the tide
And begin the dream again So don't miss the diamonds along the way
Every road has led us here today
Won't you shine on
Morning light
Burn the darkness away
Walk with me the Diamond Road
Tell me everything is gold
Give me something of your soul
So you don't fade away Don't miss the diamonds along the way
Every road has led us here today
Life is what happens while you're making plans
All that you need is right here in your hands. 
|
| | |
| Its been a while since I blogged regularly. Mostly because I have been so busy feeling my feelings that I have had time to write about them. Recently, however, I bought myself a shiny new journal to write in this time, instead of demanding something spectacular everytime I put pen to paper, I have allowed myself to just write about my day or even do intricate drawings that I spend hours listening to the television while coloring them to match my mood. This has been something more of an artistic outlet than I originally designed but winter time is my creative time. Summer, my brain and soul are on overtime working to make sure the kids, who are home ALL THE TIME during the summer arent succeeding in driving me crazy. Something about having a shorter amount of time a day with sunlight spurs me to use it as best as possible. So my home is a beehive of activity, between cleaning, sorting ,tossing and organizing as well as scrapbooking, knitting, writing and reading. I have been on the phone in contact with my closest and even distant friends. Its a frenzy of connections and I realized this year that is my MO. I have nothing to do with ANYONE during the summer because my kids are my life then, not voluntarily, mind you. Then the cooler weather brings out my hibernation instincts. I suddenly feel rushed to gather all my friends, my treasures and my kids close and feed them from my soul. So I create, bake, knit, write., Just pouring all the creativity that has been building up into those I love most. As a child, summer was my favorite season because there was just so much freedom: to run barefoot in the grass and to float in a cool pool, to play hard in the hot summer air. But as an adult, my freedom is found in planning and creating the comfort of the cooler season. To nurture my kids when they come home cold and hungry from school or work. To make everyday a bonding experience for the holidays. To KNOW them better for the long winters that lie ahead when they will spend their days doing the same for their own children, while I have my creations to hold and remember the tender seasons of their youth. So this season, I am a more open, creative and inspired soul. Hoping to nourish my children with the hopes for their happiness that have always been my strongest goal. Come in, curl up on the couch of my consciousness and let me pour you a nice hot cup of my soul. | | |
|
