258/365 - AH
You are the kind of guy I want to watch a football game with and discuss different recipes to make guacamole. You aren't a guy I want to talk about politics or teaching strategies. A nice guy who doesn't think in future tense.
Friday, November 20, 2009
Thursday, November 19, 2009
45 x 365 #257
257/365 - DJ
You didn't know we were breaking up, but I just couldn't go back again. Your barbs about my lifestyle, your jazz music turned up too loud, and your neck breaking sink led me to find myself a new hairstylist. I'm sorry it ended this way.
You didn't know we were breaking up, but I just couldn't go back again. Your barbs about my lifestyle, your jazz music turned up too loud, and your neck breaking sink led me to find myself a new hairstylist. I'm sorry it ended this way.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Two Memoirs and a Collection
I just found out yesterday that a friend of mine just left her husband. I was in her wedding, but somehow it didn't cross her mind that I should be told. I had to find out through a friend of a friend. The story goes that her husband was drinking and hanging out with the wrong crowd and he wasn't willing to change the behaviors and my friend wasn't willing to put up with them anymore. So she left. And. Well. I kind of want to know HIS side of the story.
Okay, I hate memoirs. I hate them. I don't know how it happened that recently I've read two of them. Here's my reasoning: they are always suspect. Memories fade, stories are retold, and (probably most importantly to me) there are always more sides to the story than presented. People come off looking badly and they can't defend themselves. Just like my friend's husband comes off looking like a chump in her story, but I can't help wonder how she comes off looking like a chump when he tells his side.
So how did I end up reading two memoirs last week? Well, a friend sent me one and a co-worker recommended the other one.
American on Purpose is Craig Ferguson's (the late night show host) memoir. And it was fine. The writing is a bit disjointed and I wonder about the timeline a lot, but it was okay. I'm reading the reviews on Amazon and they are all "funny, riot, laugh a lot, vivid, hilarious" and I disagree. The book made me sad. His childhood: sad. His alcoholism: sad. His divorces: sad. His stumbling into a career: sad. His book: sad. Honest, I guess. As honest as one side of the story could ever be. But it's not funny and it's not particularly well written.
The Film Club is a memoir by David Gilmour about how he let his son drop out of school and all he asked him to do is watch movies with his father. In case the italics don't tell you how upset I am about the premise of this book (frankly, the premise of this man's life), let me tell you that I started the book feeling like this guy was a major jackhole and ended the book the same way. He let his son drop out of school. He "taught" him through movies. I just can't describe how much my stomach hurt the whole time I read this book. So it's hard to get behind a memoir when you can't stand the narrator. Don't ever read this book. It was published in 2008, so I'm a little late with it, but if you were ever considering it, just don't.
So after the debacles of the memoirs, I read State by State: A Panoramic Portrait of America, a book edited by Matt Weiland and Sean Wilsey. Weiland and Wilsey had an author write an essay on each of the fifty states. Their central thought behind this collection was that, despite the interstates and all encompassing sameness of big box stores and strip malls, each state is unique. The goal for each author was to explore this uniqueness.
There are some hits and some misses in the essays. Alison Bechdel's illustrated story of Vermont is a highlight, as are Mohammed Naseehu Ali's Michigan, and Jonathan Franzen's New York. Dave Eggers writes an essay about how Illinois is the best state that had me peeing my pants with laughter. Jack Hitt deconstructs some bumper stickers that illustrate serious divides in his home state of South Carolina that made me reconsider some of my own personal beliefs, and Rick Moody's essay on the suburban turmoil of his childhood in Connecticut struck an unexpected chord with this girl from rural Michigan.
The misses are more factual, more historical, and left me feeling as if I had read a travelogue (come to Alaska! see our state parks!) than feeling as if I knew what the state was about. I won't call out the bad essays, but they sneak in there.
This collection is definitely worth reading. It's like a trip through the States in the comfort of your living room. Maybe get it from the library?
Okay, I hate memoirs. I hate them. I don't know how it happened that recently I've read two of them. Here's my reasoning: they are always suspect. Memories fade, stories are retold, and (probably most importantly to me) there are always more sides to the story than presented. People come off looking badly and they can't defend themselves. Just like my friend's husband comes off looking like a chump in her story, but I can't help wonder how she comes off looking like a chump when he tells his side.
So how did I end up reading two memoirs last week? Well, a friend sent me one and a co-worker recommended the other one.
American on Purpose is Craig Ferguson's (the late night show host) memoir. And it was fine. The writing is a bit disjointed and I wonder about the timeline a lot, but it was okay. I'm reading the reviews on Amazon and they are all "funny, riot, laugh a lot, vivid, hilarious" and I disagree. The book made me sad. His childhood: sad. His alcoholism: sad. His divorces: sad. His stumbling into a career: sad. His book: sad. Honest, I guess. As honest as one side of the story could ever be. But it's not funny and it's not particularly well written.
The Film Club is a memoir by David Gilmour about how he let his son drop out of school and all he asked him to do is watch movies with his father. In case the italics don't tell you how upset I am about the premise of this book (frankly, the premise of this man's life), let me tell you that I started the book feeling like this guy was a major jackhole and ended the book the same way. He let his son drop out of school. He "taught" him through movies. I just can't describe how much my stomach hurt the whole time I read this book. So it's hard to get behind a memoir when you can't stand the narrator. Don't ever read this book. It was published in 2008, so I'm a little late with it, but if you were ever considering it, just don't.
So after the debacles of the memoirs, I read State by State: A Panoramic Portrait of America, a book edited by Matt Weiland and Sean Wilsey. Weiland and Wilsey had an author write an essay on each of the fifty states. Their central thought behind this collection was that, despite the interstates and all encompassing sameness of big box stores and strip malls, each state is unique. The goal for each author was to explore this uniqueness.
There are some hits and some misses in the essays. Alison Bechdel's illustrated story of Vermont is a highlight, as are Mohammed Naseehu Ali's Michigan, and Jonathan Franzen's New York. Dave Eggers writes an essay about how Illinois is the best state that had me peeing my pants with laughter. Jack Hitt deconstructs some bumper stickers that illustrate serious divides in his home state of South Carolina that made me reconsider some of my own personal beliefs, and Rick Moody's essay on the suburban turmoil of his childhood in Connecticut struck an unexpected chord with this girl from rural Michigan.
The misses are more factual, more historical, and left me feeling as if I had read a travelogue (come to Alaska! see our state parks!) than feeling as if I knew what the state was about. I won't call out the bad essays, but they sneak in there.
This collection is definitely worth reading. It's like a trip through the States in the comfort of your living room. Maybe get it from the library?
45 x 365 #256
256/365 - CC
At work, the figurehead boss was never there, so you were the de facto supervisor. At home, your husband was bedridden with the nastiest case of MS I've ever seen. You somehow handled the "IN CHARGE" label with humor, grace, and a bit of cynicism.
At work, the figurehead boss was never there, so you were the de facto supervisor. At home, your husband was bedridden with the nastiest case of MS I've ever seen. You somehow handled the "IN CHARGE" label with humor, grace, and a bit of cynicism.
Monday, November 16, 2009
45 x 365 #255
255/365 - MO
Shoulder length blond hair, blunt cut bangs, a crooked front tooth, and a collection of books that made my fifth grade nerdy heart go pitter patter. Patience, oh the patience, and an explicable way of making difficult concepts crystal clear and simple concepts super important.
Shoulder length blond hair, blunt cut bangs, a crooked front tooth, and a collection of books that made my fifth grade nerdy heart go pitter patter. Patience, oh the patience, and an explicable way of making difficult concepts crystal clear and simple concepts super important.
Friday, November 13, 2009
45 x 365 #254
254/365 - SH
I saw a mailman today with long, lanky limbs, and that awkward gait people who aren't comfortable with their height often have. He was wearing headphones and bopping along down the street with his bag full of bills and flyers. He reminded me of you.
I saw a mailman today with long, lanky limbs, and that awkward gait people who aren't comfortable with their height often have. He was wearing headphones and bopping along down the street with his bag full of bills and flyers. He reminded me of you.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
45 x 365 #253
253/365 - DK
Skinny, silver haired, silver tongued, brutally truthful. A compassion that was frequently rewarded by tears and meltdowns when your innate honesty told the hard truth - some of us weren't meant to be there. Too true you were. Cruel to be kind was never more true.
Skinny, silver haired, silver tongued, brutally truthful. A compassion that was frequently rewarded by tears and meltdowns when your innate honesty told the hard truth - some of us weren't meant to be there. Too true you were. Cruel to be kind was never more true.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Useless Knowledge
Things in my brain that are completely useless, taking up space that could be better used for handier knowledge:
1) My friend C's old phone number from high school. I don't even remember my own phone number from high school, but I remember hers. It's useless knowledge as her parents have long since abandoned this number. (937 - 5065) Go ahead and call it. It's not my number.
2) My gym locker combination from 7th grade. Seriously? That was a long time ago. (7-28-14; each digit was divisible by 7 and I clearly took that to heart.)
3) The name of Brett Favre's dog (Charlie) and the name of Michael Phelps's dog (Herman). I'm a sucker for ads with adorable dogs. FYI, the dogs in the Favre/Wrangler ads are not Charlie. I spend time wondering if it hurts Charlie's feelings when he sees those commercials, though.
4) How to change the fuse for a radio in 92 Chevy Silverado. I drove this truck in college and the damn fuse would blow every other month or so. I used to take it to the dealership (who cared if the belts were slipping? my radio was broken!) to get it done until, after the third or fourth time, the guy took me aside and showed me how to do it myself. Since I wrecked this truck in 2001, I doubt I'll ever need this knowledge again.
5) Every word to 18 and Life by Skid Row. I have used this knowledge to do a kick ass version of karaoke, but I don't really think that's helpful.
Tequila in his heartbeat
His veins burned gasoline
It kept his motor running
But it never kept him clean
Words to live by, yo.
6) The echidna is a small mammal and the males have a four headed penis. Only two of the heads are actually used and the other ones don't grow! (Apparently they alternate which of the two heads are "active" during sex.) I love this knowledge and find an occasion about once a week to bring it into conversation.
7) The tapir is the world's largest rodent. A lot of this is animal-related useless knowledge. Clearly I take reading the signs at zoos way too seriously.
8) Diamonds are the hardest gemstones, followed by rubies, followed by sapphires.
9) Those plastic or metal thingmabobs on the end of shoelaces are called aglets.
10) There's a mysterious void in the English language. Children who lose their parents are called orphans. A man whose wife dies is a widow. A woman whose husband dies is a widower. But a parent whose child(ren) die has no word. There's a word for this lack of a word and it bothers me that I can't remember it just now.
1) My friend C's old phone number from high school. I don't even remember my own phone number from high school, but I remember hers. It's useless knowledge as her parents have long since abandoned this number. (937 - 5065) Go ahead and call it. It's not my number.
2) My gym locker combination from 7th grade. Seriously? That was a long time ago. (7-28-14; each digit was divisible by 7 and I clearly took that to heart.)
3) The name of Brett Favre's dog (Charlie) and the name of Michael Phelps's dog (Herman). I'm a sucker for ads with adorable dogs. FYI, the dogs in the Favre/Wrangler ads are not Charlie. I spend time wondering if it hurts Charlie's feelings when he sees those commercials, though.
4) How to change the fuse for a radio in 92 Chevy Silverado. I drove this truck in college and the damn fuse would blow every other month or so. I used to take it to the dealership (who cared if the belts were slipping? my radio was broken!) to get it done until, after the third or fourth time, the guy took me aside and showed me how to do it myself. Since I wrecked this truck in 2001, I doubt I'll ever need this knowledge again.
5) Every word to 18 and Life by Skid Row. I have used this knowledge to do a kick ass version of karaoke, but I don't really think that's helpful.
Tequila in his heartbeat
His veins burned gasoline
It kept his motor running
But it never kept him clean
Words to live by, yo.
6) The echidna is a small mammal and the males have a four headed penis. Only two of the heads are actually used and the other ones don't grow! (Apparently they alternate which of the two heads are "active" during sex.) I love this knowledge and find an occasion about once a week to bring it into conversation.
7) The tapir is the world's largest rodent. A lot of this is animal-related useless knowledge. Clearly I take reading the signs at zoos way too seriously.
8) Diamonds are the hardest gemstones, followed by rubies, followed by sapphires.
9) Those plastic or metal thingmabobs on the end of shoelaces are called aglets.
10) There's a mysterious void in the English language. Children who lose their parents are called orphans. A man whose wife dies is a widow. A woman whose husband dies is a widower. But a parent whose child(ren) die has no word. There's a word for this lack of a word and it bothers me that I can't remember it just now.
45 x 365 #252
252/365 - JD
Early on I decided that my ambition was to be like you - well read, kind, and a brilliant, organized teacher. Once, you messed up a problem and muttered an expletive that I never thought I'd hear from you. Human, but the best of our kind.
Early on I decided that my ambition was to be like you - well read, kind, and a brilliant, organized teacher. Once, you messed up a problem and muttered an expletive that I never thought I'd hear from you. Human, but the best of our kind.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Gratitude
It's sitting there in the paper robe, staring at the ceiling, wondering, as always, what would happen if the fire alarm went off at that exact second, that it all crept up on me. While waiting in the lobby for forty-five minutes, I had worked myself up into a state of anxiety and worry. It's routine, but routine for something I try to deny, as if by denying its existence, it will suddenly disappear and never haunt me again. What if the scans showed an exacerbated problem? What if I wasn't okay like I thought? What if I should have had the boy come with me? What if? What if? What if?
She walked into the room and said, "Well, everything looks normal. Now let's just do a visual exam."
I left. My body was sore from the poking and the prodding. But I can go another six months in denial again.
**********************************
It was a brief phone call. Uncle Lenny is not doing well. Call him this week. We don't know if...but I wouldn't let her finish the sentence.
He is sick. I know. I have known.
The last time we saw him, my husband and I sat on the couch next to Uncle Lenny and we talked of our courtship. BB flirting with me, my obliviousness, and BB's dedication to the cause of getting a kiss out of me. Uncle Lenny laughed so hard at the image of BB showering me with gifts and me still thinking we were just friends, he nearly fell off the couch.
Just two hours west of Pittsburgh, Uncle Lenny's house is a shrine to the Steelers. Blankets, pillows, and rugs emblazoned with the three tetracuspids decorate their front room where we sat. We started teasing Uncle Lenny about Ben "Worthlessburger" and then moved onto Ben "Ruthlessburger" and once again, Uncle Lenny was in stitches.
I remember this vividly because when we left the house, I grabbed my husband's hand told him I was glad he'd gotten to meet Uncle Lenny because I wasn't sure if he'd ever...and I couldn't finish the sentence.
***********************************
This evening I rode my bike to my part-time evening job. Thanks to Daylight Savings, it's getting dark by 5:00 and is dark by 5:30. Somehow I managed to arrive at my destination at that magical time between twilight and full dark - the time when the sky is not lit by any hint of sun, but it's not black dark yet. The sky is that perfect sapphire blue that gemstones can't quite replicate.
I stared up at the sky, just looking. The color, the perfect color, will never again be like that.
************************************
Once I get home, he has dinner ready for me. I eat and sit on the couch with my novel. He sits next to me with his own book. We sit next to each other, not talking, not touching, just being together.
**********************************
Each moment is a treasure. I so frequently wish time away. I can't wait until Friday. I can't wait until Thanksgiving. I can't wait until we know what his job will be next year. But every day should be appreciated because every day is filled with its small graces.
*********************************
I'm going to enter this into Scribbit's Write Away contest for November. Her topic is "Grateful" and this does seem perfect, no?
She walked into the room and said, "Well, everything looks normal. Now let's just do a visual exam."
I left. My body was sore from the poking and the prodding. But I can go another six months in denial again.
**********************************
It was a brief phone call. Uncle Lenny is not doing well. Call him this week. We don't know if...but I wouldn't let her finish the sentence.
He is sick. I know. I have known.
The last time we saw him, my husband and I sat on the couch next to Uncle Lenny and we talked of our courtship. BB flirting with me, my obliviousness, and BB's dedication to the cause of getting a kiss out of me. Uncle Lenny laughed so hard at the image of BB showering me with gifts and me still thinking we were just friends, he nearly fell off the couch.
Just two hours west of Pittsburgh, Uncle Lenny's house is a shrine to the Steelers. Blankets, pillows, and rugs emblazoned with the three tetracuspids decorate their front room where we sat. We started teasing Uncle Lenny about Ben "Worthlessburger" and then moved onto Ben "Ruthlessburger" and once again, Uncle Lenny was in stitches.
I remember this vividly because when we left the house, I grabbed my husband's hand told him I was glad he'd gotten to meet Uncle Lenny because I wasn't sure if he'd ever...and I couldn't finish the sentence.
***********************************
This evening I rode my bike to my part-time evening job. Thanks to Daylight Savings, it's getting dark by 5:00 and is dark by 5:30. Somehow I managed to arrive at my destination at that magical time between twilight and full dark - the time when the sky is not lit by any hint of sun, but it's not black dark yet. The sky is that perfect sapphire blue that gemstones can't quite replicate.
I stared up at the sky, just looking. The color, the perfect color, will never again be like that.
************************************
Once I get home, he has dinner ready for me. I eat and sit on the couch with my novel. He sits next to me with his own book. We sit next to each other, not talking, not touching, just being together.
**********************************
Each moment is a treasure. I so frequently wish time away. I can't wait until Friday. I can't wait until Thanksgiving. I can't wait until we know what his job will be next year. But every day should be appreciated because every day is filled with its small graces.
*********************************
I'm going to enter this into Scribbit's Write Away contest for November. Her topic is "Grateful" and this does seem perfect, no?
45 x 365 #251
251/365 - MS
It's vague, the memory. Competent, Midwestern, dark eyes, dark hair, plaid shirts, khaki pants. Nothing stands out except the lecture you did about how inner cities developed with a passing mention of the evils of gentrification, leading me to despise suburbs with a deep passion.
It's vague, the memory. Competent, Midwestern, dark eyes, dark hair, plaid shirts, khaki pants. Nothing stands out except the lecture you did about how inner cities developed with a passing mention of the evils of gentrification, leading me to despise suburbs with a deep passion.
Monday, November 09, 2009
45 x 365 #250
250/365 - DK
A traditionalist, puzzled by your friendship with me. You believe in the ways of the old country, but appreciate the culture of your adopted land. Sweet, but with the kind of inner life that believes chimera is a word necessary for day to day life.
A traditionalist, puzzled by your friendship with me. You believe in the ways of the old country, but appreciate the culture of your adopted land. Sweet, but with the kind of inner life that believes chimera is a word necessary for day to day life.
Friday, November 06, 2009
45 x 365 #249
249/365 - LJ
You look like Santa Claus, all rosy cheeked, big bellied, and grey haired. But you're exactly the opposite of jolly old Saint Nick, intimidating, sarcastic, and a bit scary. I saw you at the grocery store last week and I hid in the next aisle.
You look like Santa Claus, all rosy cheeked, big bellied, and grey haired. But you're exactly the opposite of jolly old Saint Nick, intimidating, sarcastic, and a bit scary. I saw you at the grocery store last week and I hid in the next aisle.
Wednesday, November 04, 2009
Blog Share Post
So, -R- over at And You Know What Else does a Blog Share every once in a while and she organized one for today! So what follows is an anonymous post written by someone else. There's a post floating out there on the Interwebs that is anonymously written by me, as well. Here is the post (again, written by someone else). All posts should be by sometime Thursday morning.
***************************************
In My Head
When the opportunity for this blog share came about I had so many things I wanted to write about. I figure I'd pick one and really delve into the topic. I recently moved from a semi-anonymous blog to one that is not anonymous at all and I've found that it requires a lot of self-censorship. I don't necessarily write about unicorns and rainbows all the time, but I do keep in mind that my parents, in-laws, co-workers, etc. might be reading. I would love to somehow tie all of the things that I currently can't or won't write about into a fun, witty and cohesive entry, however my brain is currently awash in cold medicine. For the third time in as many months. Instead I give you all of the things that are current ping-ponging around in my head (in no particular order).
*My husband, no matter what, can not seem to put his cereal bowl in the dishwasher. I do it for him. Every. single. day. Which one of us is wrong? Him for not doing it in the first place, or me for perpetuating the problem? See also - never putting the phone back in its base.
*Why do I always have to be the one to coordinate get togethers for a certain group of friends? I have a distinct feeling that we would have lost touch quite a while ago if it weren't for me.
*I have a new boss. I do not trust him. I also hate the way a certain co-worker, who is mean and nasty to everyone, sucks up to him.
*I eat McDonald's far too often. I have successfully lost all of the baby weight I gained last year , but I've yet to lose the 15 or so McD's pounds. I also drink way too much soda. Unfortunately, I don't see either of these things changing any time soon.
*I think I'm too selfish to be a really good mom. I put up a good front, but a lot of the time I just want more time to myself, more sleep, less whining, less balls to juggle, fewer plates to spin. It's so much harder than I thought it would be. And yet, all I can think of is when we're going to start trying for number two.
*Related to the above, I've said over and over again that I could never be a stay at home mom. Lately I've been wondering if I really meant it.
*How do some people always look so put together? I can never seem to get myself in check. I race around at the last minute and just barely make it out the door. Either my clothes are wrinkled or my hair is wet or I'm without makeup.
*What would my life be like now if I hadn't gotten married? Had a baby?
*While most people hate change, I crave it. I've changed jobs 4 times in the last five years. Just because I was bored and I could. I'd change again now if it were possible.
*We're planning to put our house on the market in late winter/early spring. I am equal parts thrilled and disappointed. Also? Incredibly overwhelmed at the amount of work we have to do to get it ready for sale.
*I love my mom, but she drives me nuts. She's always the victim. I try really hard to keep that out of my personality, unfortunately it creeps in from time to time and I hate myself for it.
*The Office just isn't as funny as it used to be. Michael Scott resembles a former boss and the things he does just make me cringe. I will forever have a soft spot for Jim Halpert though.
*My greatest fear is that my dad will die unexpectedly. I don't worry about anyone nearly as much as I worry about him. However, I am not what you would necessarily call a daddy's girl.
*A sleeping baby greatly reduces my opportunities for singing full out during my commute. I still have dreams of being a famous singer or at the very least getting on stage with a band.
*I am really paranoid that this post won't measure up to those of the other participants.
*My life is very full. I know that I am incredibly fortunate. Yet I'm still anxious and unhappy most of the time. I think I'm finally at a point where I'm ready to ask for help, not just for me, but for the people I care about. They deserve a better version of me.
And that's about it. Now my brain is a bit emptier - and your life is a tad more full, right?
*******************************************
For more anonymous fun, check out the following blogs, all participating in this Blog Share:
Not the Daddy
O is for Olson
Red Red Whine
Rediscovering Me
Reflections in the Snow-covered Hills
The Reluctant Grownup
Sauntering Soul
Serendipity Now
Snarke
So, This is a Treadmill
Thinking Some More
Time for Change
Together They Come
Wondering and Pondering
And You Know What Else
Andrea Unplugged
Arctic-ulate
Bright Yellow World
Bwildered
Catheroominations
Did I Say That Outloud?
Dispatches from the Failed Mommy Club
Full of Snark
Heidikins
Hot Chicks Dig Smart Men
Just Below 63
The Little Goat
***************************************
In My Head
When the opportunity for this blog share came about I had so many things I wanted to write about. I figure I'd pick one and really delve into the topic. I recently moved from a semi-anonymous blog to one that is not anonymous at all and I've found that it requires a lot of self-censorship. I don't necessarily write about unicorns and rainbows all the time, but I do keep in mind that my parents, in-laws, co-workers, etc. might be reading. I would love to somehow tie all of the things that I currently can't or won't write about into a fun, witty and cohesive entry, however my brain is currently awash in cold medicine. For the third time in as many months. Instead I give you all of the things that are current ping-ponging around in my head (in no particular order).
*My husband, no matter what, can not seem to put his cereal bowl in the dishwasher. I do it for him. Every. single. day. Which one of us is wrong? Him for not doing it in the first place, or me for perpetuating the problem? See also - never putting the phone back in its base.
*Why do I always have to be the one to coordinate get togethers for a certain group of friends? I have a distinct feeling that we would have lost touch quite a while ago if it weren't for me.
*I have a new boss. I do not trust him. I also hate the way a certain co-worker, who is mean and nasty to everyone, sucks up to him.
*I eat McDonald's far too often. I have successfully lost all of the baby weight I gained last year , but I've yet to lose the 15 or so McD's pounds. I also drink way too much soda. Unfortunately, I don't see either of these things changing any time soon.
*I think I'm too selfish to be a really good mom. I put up a good front, but a lot of the time I just want more time to myself, more sleep, less whining, less balls to juggle, fewer plates to spin. It's so much harder than I thought it would be. And yet, all I can think of is when we're going to start trying for number two.
*Related to the above, I've said over and over again that I could never be a stay at home mom. Lately I've been wondering if I really meant it.
*How do some people always look so put together? I can never seem to get myself in check. I race around at the last minute and just barely make it out the door. Either my clothes are wrinkled or my hair is wet or I'm without makeup.
*What would my life be like now if I hadn't gotten married? Had a baby?
*While most people hate change, I crave it. I've changed jobs 4 times in the last five years. Just because I was bored and I could. I'd change again now if it were possible.
*We're planning to put our house on the market in late winter/early spring. I am equal parts thrilled and disappointed. Also? Incredibly overwhelmed at the amount of work we have to do to get it ready for sale.
*I love my mom, but she drives me nuts. She's always the victim. I try really hard to keep that out of my personality, unfortunately it creeps in from time to time and I hate myself for it.
*The Office just isn't as funny as it used to be. Michael Scott resembles a former boss and the things he does just make me cringe. I will forever have a soft spot for Jim Halpert though.
*My greatest fear is that my dad will die unexpectedly. I don't worry about anyone nearly as much as I worry about him. However, I am not what you would necessarily call a daddy's girl.
*A sleeping baby greatly reduces my opportunities for singing full out during my commute. I still have dreams of being a famous singer or at the very least getting on stage with a band.
*I am really paranoid that this post won't measure up to those of the other participants.
*My life is very full. I know that I am incredibly fortunate. Yet I'm still anxious and unhappy most of the time. I think I'm finally at a point where I'm ready to ask for help, not just for me, but for the people I care about. They deserve a better version of me.
And that's about it. Now my brain is a bit emptier - and your life is a tad more full, right?
*******************************************
For more anonymous fun, check out the following blogs, all participating in this Blog Share:
Not the Daddy
O is for Olson
Red Red Whine
Rediscovering Me
Reflections in the Snow-covered Hills
The Reluctant Grownup
Sauntering Soul
Serendipity Now
Snarke
So, This is a Treadmill
Thinking Some More
Time for Change
Together They Come
Wondering and Pondering
And You Know What Else
Andrea Unplugged
Arctic-ulate
Bright Yellow World
Bwildered
Catheroominations
Did I Say That Outloud?
Dispatches from the Failed Mommy Club
Full of Snark
Heidikins
Hot Chicks Dig Smart Men
Just Below 63
The Little Goat
Tuesday, November 03, 2009
45 x 365 #248
248/365 - RC
A gangly girl with few role models and little hope. You giggled, just like the little girl you were, when we decorated cookies in my kitchen and got lost trying to navigate our way around the maddening city of St. Paul. Hope no longer missing.
A gangly girl with few role models and little hope. You giggled, just like the little girl you were, when we decorated cookies in my kitchen and got lost trying to navigate our way around the maddening city of St. Paul. Hope no longer missing.
Monday, November 02, 2009
45 x 365 #247
247/365 - RG
It's sad, but high school girls don't want nice guys. They want rebels with cigarettes in their pockets and condoms in their wallets. I'm sorry I didn't date you and that you wanted to date me. I hope I didn't embitter you towards women forever.
It's sad, but high school girls don't want nice guys. They want rebels with cigarettes in their pockets and condoms in their wallets. I'm sorry I didn't date you and that you wanted to date me. I hope I didn't embitter you towards women forever.
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