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Or just a mind that thinks too much. |
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A place to practice my writing. Also where I will put my random thoughts, ideas, rants, and whatever else I have to say. ** Image ID #1901871 Unavailable ** ** Image ID #1779494 Unavailable ** |
The past six months I have struggled to deal with a tremendous amount of stress that was thrown atop of my shoulders. Besides my daily duties, my son hating pre-k the first half of the year, and the constant bullshit my family dishes out at random hours of the day, I have managed to stay semi-sane. I am not fully sane anymore, and I am OK with that, because it amuses my children. The find it funny when I get a little erratic and silly. Besides my not as frequent yoga sessions in front of my TV or the new Zumba classes I started last month, I try to focus on positive things and pretend the stressful stuff doesn't exist. I am not in denial. I know it is still there, but why worry about it if I can't do anything to fix it right now? You know the phrase "let it go?" Well, I have adopted that and put it into action. I let it go far away and don't think of it if I don't have to. Irresponsible you say? Maybe. But I'm trying to save my mental health here. What's left of it anyway. Do you know how expensive wrinkle cream is? Does it even work? Hakuna Matata. Don't worry be happy. Aren't those famous songs for a reason? I think there's a hidden message in there somewhere.  |
| For every good day, there is a bad day that comes along and slaps me in the face reminding me that I am not allowed to get cocky and think everyday will be a good one. Why should everyday be a happy day when there are others who thrive on my misery? Really guys? Just because I fight back doesn't mean I want a war. It means leave me alone, because if you point your finger in my face I will bite it off. Yes, I am a biter! Visiting my family is like walking through a herd of blood thirsty vampires. Anything I say and do is under severe scrutiny, and in the next few minutes after I tell them good news or any news, I will be the debate of the night. The day before yesterday, the argument was about the amount of money I spent on a house hold item. In their eyes, it was an outrageous amount. They are not frugal people, but, simply put, cheap. In my eyes, it was a thirty year investment, backed by a warranty and, in my opinion a great deal. What I don't get, and maybe I'm wrong, is their interest in my life. Why is my business so important that they actually have heated debates about me in front of me? Getting a word in was impossible, so I left with an overpowering feeling of relief to be away from the drama loving vultures. How am I related to these people? I demand a DNA test. Any doctors around here wanna help? I do know a chemistry teacher. Hmmm ... Anyway, I am stuck with the nagging notion that my every move is going to be the topic of a largely fabricated conversation amongst old cackling, coffee drinking, cigarette smoking hags. It irks me. |
| The pizza's came out perfect. i am happy to say my picky children devoured their food in no time. Friday, my daughters teacher taught the class about hormone injections in beef products, and my daughter has sworn off red meat. Her pizza pie consisted of mushroom slices, sliced black olives, and a mixture of shredded provolone and mozzarella cheese.my husband and son are pepperoni lovers, so they caked on the meat. An hour later, my doorbell rings, and I am surprised by unexpected guests. Lucky for them there was plenty of pizza left, and some joined in the fun of creating their own personal pizza. A few phone calls later, my house was filled with family, pizza and booze. My plan to have a family night turned into a family party. Sometimes unexpected visits turn out for the best. |
| After picking up pizza dough from the local pizzeria and other ingredients from the nearby grocer, I am ready for family pizza night. The idea of home made pizza came from a new cooking show on the learning channel. We are big fans of the Cake Boss, and the star of the show, Buddy, has a new cooking show. My kids opted for pizza night instead of cake night which makes my life a hell of a lot easier. Less mess for me to clean up and no sugary temptations taunting me every time I walk into my kitchen. My husband is with the kids helping the kids while I take a quick break to type. His fuse is short, so i'll stop writing and join everyone. I'll let you know how it goes. |
| Working on the next chapter in my book. I finally got over the writing funk I have been in the past month or two. I don't even remember how long it's been. So many things have gone wring today, and I couldn't wait to escape into my world. Mood music wasn't working. I just couldn't find the perfect song, so I decided to write without it. When nothing creative happened, I reverted to editing what I have already written. Halfway through, I realize I have been editing the wrong copy. I always keep the original and copy another to work on. That way I can always go back. Ugh! Time for bed. A fresh start tomorrow will do me good. My muse is duct taped to me so she won't run away. Ha! |
| I woke up to a house in chaos. I imagine this bickering and craziness has been going on for a while, because it filtered into my dream. Afraid to get up, I am currently hiding under the covers hoping I am not discovered. While I am here, l have a complaint, a gripe, a pet peeve to talk about. I am wondering if I am the only one who feels this way. I have learned over the years the importance of ones conduct and use of mannerisms when out and about. The way your initial interaction is with another person determines how the the rest of the conversation will go. I have observed that a person will make an assumption about you in the first few seconds, and as the conversation progresses, I can almost see the wheels turning and judgments silently passed. Last night, I invited a close friend to dinner and a movie. It turned out we saw the movie first, but my point will still be the same. Throughout the entire duration of the movie, she was on her phone texting and commenting on Facebook. Lucky for us, we were seated at the very top, and the light from her phone went unnoticed by everyone but me. More than halfway through, I finally said something about it. It didn't really make a difference, but when the time came to order at the restaurant, and Facebook became more important than human interaction, I snapped. It's bad enough I was being ignored the entire time, but when the waitress, who works so hard, is being treated this way, I had to speak up and remind my friend of her manners. I swear I witnessed the waitress pass her judgement on us in those few seconds. I knew she was going to dread waiting on us. I would if if I were her. somehow, I became the bad guy in the equation. Huh? What happened to face to face interaction. Can checking in on Facebook and replying back to the comments you received more important than looking a person in the eye and conversing with them? I am a stickler for not using my phone or I pod when I am out at a restaurant. The world wide web can wait. Human interaction is fading away, and I see people more involved with their devices than their own children. Yesterday, as I drove my children home from school, I witnessed a mother walking with her two children while listening to her headphones. The little girl was speaking to her mother, probably telling her about her day, but was ignored because her mom was listening to something other than her child. The little girl gave up and turned to her little brother instead, but the look of disappointment she wore will remain with me forever. It's OK to put down your touch screens and really talk to the person next to you or in front of you. I give you permission to look into someones eyes and see the emotion you invoke by saying a kind word or two. Try smiling at someone, for real, not through an emoticon. Can you do it, or are you addicted too? |
| A new story popped into my mind this morning. Like a zombie, I wrote with no thought. With my third eye as my guide, I typed throughout the day stopping only to prepare meals and tend to the necessary chores around the house. My muse is chatting with me today dutifully making sure I get every word down. My eyes tear up, my fingers cramp, and my moral is low. Am I up to the task? Will I get this vision right? The TV calls my name offering it's sweet distraction. My bed invites me into it's king size softness. In a panic, I run to the bathroom and lock the door praying my kids don't notice and call for me. I type blindy into the hour and emerge a defeated woman. As quickly as she arrived, her sweet guiding voice vanishes without warning. I sulk in front of my computer eyes staring at the constant blinking of the cursor. I think it is mocking me. Laughing and teasing me, daring me to finish the last paragraph without her. My bed wins the battle. I will slip into a tortured dream where I am chasing my muse, begging for her return. Tonight I lose, but tomorrow is another day. |
| I stopped my car in the middle of the road today. Of course, I made sure there were no cars behind me. I don’t think it would of mattered anyway because I had to stop. With one swift movement, I whipped my neon orange camera out of my pocket. I noted that the action reminded me of the famous old western scenes, where the cowboy quickly draws his gun and shoots the vigilante. The snow floated down in fluffy white flakes landing perfectly onto tree branches, cars, grass, and everything else a city block contains. The perfect view of the street ahead took my breath away. Large maple trees imperfectly lined up on each sidewalk, showcasing their bare branches, appeared to come together in a perfect arch, creating a winter tunnel effect. Feeling as if I were in a snow globe, I felt the urge to jump out of my car, magically make a pair of purple and yellow ice skates appear, sling them over my shoulder, and dance around in circles while I look up into the snow. This is one of the days I wish I had bought that professional camera from my, photographer, cousin. Damn, I could kick myself for not having the right tool to zoom in and really capture the scene. I suppose my new phone is good enough for now. In fact, it takes pictures better than my actual camera that I purchased a year ago. The video quality on my phone is also better than my video camera too. I try to keep up with the newest technology, and my phone is the latest addition to my tech collection. Presumably, in the next two years, it‘s fate will be sealed, when it gets thrown into my collection of old devices that have been replaced with a better or faster product. How long until they pile up like the snow outside my frosty car window? I ponder this as I take many snapshots. At least the snow is beautiful. |
| One of the perks of having a sister is knowing you will always have a friend in time of need. Retail therapy was on the menu for today, and I had a couple of hours to vent my frustrations on various beauty products. We shopped, we talked, and in the end we went home carrying bags of lipglosses and nail polishes. The rest of the day went as planned. Picking up the kids, homework, dinner, and laundry took up the rest of my time. Finally getting the kids tucked in, I collapsed onto my bed and heard the rustle of a plastic bag underneath me. My frustration and weariness fell away, and a smile replaced my frown. Recalling the short time my sister and I spent together reminded me to make time for myself. I can get so wrapped up with tending to everyone elses needs that I forget about my own. Tonight I am going to paint my nails and wear my new lipgloss. It may seem like no big deal to some, but to me, it symbolizes a promise to myself. A promise not to forget about me. I owe my sister for reminding me that I am impotant too. |
| I think I am the only one in my class who is lost. According to the forum, the ones who commented have gotten a grasp on the lesson. After all the reading and studying today, I expect my brain to fully absorb the information by morning. My kids begged me to take a break and drive them over to my moms. I thought I would get more study time. I was betting on it. Turns out my mother's obsession with Facebook is more important than her grandchildren visiting her. My dad is banking on the one on time with them, and is actually excited to be getting more attention than usual. The only downside to this is his constant scrutiny of their habits. Like a drill sergeant, he is on them for every stray crumb and unfinished apple. I hid the chocolate. Two kids on a sugar high is not good for someone as high strung as my father. I can't wait till he finds out about my sons amazing acrobatic skills and my daughters obsession with martial arts. I will have my camera on hand. I am going to sneak away and get my comma study on. |
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