It's Good To Be Me

03.11.03

2010-03-11T09:28:00.000-08:00

Today, Monkey is seven years old.

I could have sworn she just turned two.

Seven years ago I was propped up in a hospital bed, with 12 of my "closest" family members, watching Perry Mason, and counting to ten between pushes.

I only counted like four times.

(Don't hate me. My girly bits were on display for every person I was related to because the nurse never asked them to leave.)

(I've since learned to assert myself.)

Last week Monkey informed me that she should get a cell phone when she turns seven.

And that she wants to dye her hair black and blue...

Um.No.

I thought I had seven more years before this came up.

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

Happy Birthday, Monkey!

(stop growing already.)

I Think I Can, I Think I Can...

2010-03-03T01:00:00.000-08:00

I fell off the wagon.

OOOF!

I had a terrible run on Friday. It was forced, and achy, and just all around not a good time.
Saturday morning I woke up just not feelin' it.
So I skipped.

Sunday, was supposed to be my rest day but I got my butt out of bed.

(at 10.)

I put on my running clothes, went downstairs, poured a cup of coffee, ate my yogurt, and sat in front of the TV and watched an entire Planet Earth DVD.

Then the Vegas Race.

Seriously. NASCAR on a 65" TV. It's like you're driving!

Then I did some yard work. Moved the fire pit to a "prettier" spot.
Burned some brush. Made a mulch box. Chased the horses. Played with the puppies.

Basically everything that I've been putting off since we moved.

Monday came.

I've totally talked myself down. I'm just not feeling it. I don't want to run. In fact, I'm dreading it, but I know if I don't that I'll make an excuse every single day and never get back in the game (or my cute shorts.)

So, I went home. I started dinner. I changed into my running clothes, and down the road I went.

Warm-up: stretching the shoulders, talking myself up, breath-in breathe-out.
Run 3 walk 1: singing Free Fallin' makes 4 minutes pass quickly.
Run 3 walk 1: feeling pretty good.
Run 1 1/2: up a big ass hill.
Curse myself for thinking I could run up that hill, after 2 days off, and not want to lay down and die at the top.
Walk 45 seconds: until the world stops spinning, calves stop screaming, and the fire in my lungs is extinguished.
Run 5!: downhill momentum is a beautiful thing.
Walk 1
Run 4: to impress the ~~3 passing cars~~ heavy traffic.
Cool down.

I did it! I got back out there and ran.

I Am Wonder Woman!

I was back in time to finish making dinner before the Cowboy got home.

A bottle of water. Meat, Rice, Veggie.

A (honestly, just one.) (large.) glass of "Mommy Juice".

By 8:00, I was dead to the world!

and I feel AWESOME!

My Own Best Friend

2010-03-02T01:00:00.000-08:00

I may or may not have actually had more than one of these conversations recently.

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

(me) "Hi! Will you be my friend?"

(random 1) "Uh, I am your friend."

(me) "Sweet! Lets hang out."

(random 1) "I'm busy."

(me) "Ok, lets hang out when you're not busy."

(random 1) "I'm always busy."

(me) "Well what are you busy doing? Maybe I can help, or be busy with you."

(random 1) "Mostly, I'm busy hanging out with my friends."

(me) "So, you're too busy hanging out with your friends?"

(random 1) "Yeah, I have alot of friends."

(me) "So we can be friends but we cant hang out?"

(random 1) "Yea, pretty much."

(me) "That's not a friend."

(random 1) "Well I still think were friends, always. No Matter What."

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

(me) "Hi! Will you be my friend?"

(random 2) "Uh, whats in it for me?"

(me) "Being my friend is in it for you."

(random 2) "Thats it?"

(me) "Yeah!"

(random 2) "Nothing else?"

(me) "Well, I'm a pretty awesome friend."

(random 2)"I have enough friends."

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

(me) "Hi, can I be your friend?"

"Sure."

(me) "Cool. Wanna get some coffee and maybe go for a walk?"

"Sure."

(me) "So, what's your name?"

"Me."

(me) "Hi, Me. We should probably keep our voices down so all these people dont think we're talking to myself."

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

Yoga, Boobs, and Office Space

2010-02-26T01:00:00.000-08:00

Why is it that every time I start to do something awkward in my office, like research on breast augmentation or yoga practice, I get interrupted? Yet, if I'm just standing at my desk playing on Facebook or reading the doom-and-gloom, everyone leaves me alone.

It never fails.

After and hour of this:

No phone calls, No visitors, No irritating nosy more-OCD-than-I co-workers popping in.

I decide to bust out this:

or attempt

and then there was the time I was looking at this: CLICK! when the boss walked in.

What do they thing this is, a place of business or something? I'm blogging here.

They, my co-workers and my boss, just laugh at me. There really isn't anything I do that suprises them anymore. Maybe the boob thing, but even that didnt generate a negative comment or snicker.

I just wonder why it is that if I stand here and do nothing all friggin' day, no one needs me. But the second I try to "better" myself, everybody needs something 'right now'.

Don't Cowboys Ride Horses and Drive Big Trucks?

2010-02-25T01:00:00.000-08:00

Recently, I promised the Cowboy that I wouldn't charge anything else to my credit card. We are consolidating a few things in order to pay them off at a lower rate (blah-blah-blah) and save bu-ku-bucks for Hawaii.

I, oh so responsibly, told Blondie and Princess that we absolutely could not go shopping "just to look", suspended my B&N Nook account and haven't even opened iTunes this week because there is always "just one" new CD song, that I "need to buy, today."

(OK, so technically I cant actually suspend my B&N account. But I've not purchased any new books in the past week, which is so the same thing.)

The other day he called me at work, from a car dealership and said, "Honey, can you come test drive this car, I think I'm gonna buy it."

(dot dot dot)

I tried, in vain, to talk him out of it.

That man is as thick as the Great Wall of China sometimes.

I told him to leave the car at the dealership, go home, and that we could talk about it. I explained that, if it was meant to be, the car would still be there for us to purchase when the dealership opened the next morning.

I thought he understood that I wasn't saying "You can not buy the car, ever."
I was merely saying, "You should not buy that car, today."

I'm naive.

This was sitting in my driveway when I got home.

This is not for me to drive.

He "let" me drive it home from our friend's birthday party because... well it doesn't matter why.

First, "This is not a good year for you to get your boobs 'enhanced'."

Then, "You really need to watch your frivilous spending; And yes, $50.00 flip-flips are frivilous... I dont care if they're designed to boost your booty."

Now, "Honey, I work hard and I commute further than you. I deserve the new car."

(sigh.)

I am so going to buy new running shoes tomorrow.

and likely those flip-flops also!

Anything but That!

2010-02-24T10:30:00.000-08:00

Monkey ate something rancid and threw up for 2 days.

Poor thing.

I dont do vomit. I can handle blood, and guts, and most poo-related incidents without gagging. But vomit... NOPE! I knew going into motherhood that this would eventually be a problem, and have been fortunate enough to avoid it for nearly 7 years.

Fortunately, we have Blondie. She rescued me yesterday.

Monkey was leisurely sipping her soup, when she suddenly got that "Oh-no, not again!" look on her face. She jumped up, ran (or stumbled) through the kitchen and living room, made it to the doorway of the laundry room and lost it right there on the carpet... then proceeded into the laundry-bathroom and finished her business in the proper place. She's a trooper.

I tried to help. Really.

But the mere sound of someone upchucking makes my face pucker and my throat heave.

I think Blondie caught on to this, because she jumped in and said "I've got this, ewww... you go run or something."

So. I Did.

I left my 14 year old step-daughter to clean my baby girls vomit out of the carpet, while I got some fresh air and an awesome run.

Sure, I felt mildly guilty, but Monkey didnt need me. She just went back to laying on the couch, looking all cute and pathetic. And Blondie knew that someone else cleaning the ick out of the carpet was better than my futile attempt, and ultimate addition to the problem, would be.

On the way home I grabbed some Arm-and-Hammer Carpet Deodorizer (light scent my ass.)to try to "help", and brought Blondie her favorite wildberry smoothie.

Then made her dinner.

And did her chores.

and she loves me!

Test #1

2010-02-23T01:00:00.000-08:00

There is one secret to "self-help" that I havent read in any book, and I've read my share of books. Do you know what it is?

The biggest step toward change is implementation. None of the principles, incites, or 12-step programs are going to do a lick of good if you don't put them to practice.

I'm reading 2 incredible books right now. Gretchen Rubin's "The Happiness Project" and Joseph Murphy's "The Power of Your Subconscious Mind". Both are motivational-change your perspective-books. . This whole, adopting a new outlook in order to have a happier home/mentally healthy mind, thing has been a long time coming, and I discovered both of these little gems at the same time. I'm not going to try to summarise either because I'm only about half way through each, but I am making a conscious choice to implement the key concepts: Take a moment and pause. If I change the way I think about/approach things, I can change my life. It's going to be a challenge, but with statements like: "Never finish a negative statement; reverse it immediately, and wonders will happen in your life." (The Power of Your Subconscious Mind pp.19)

Today was my first test.

Why did I get so irked with the Cowboy? He kindly offered to call the local sheriff's department to get me some information, and when we realised he did not ask all of the necessary questions, he even called them back. Yet by the time he conveyed the information to me, I was irritated that he didn't get all of the information the first time and spiraled downward into being completely annoyed that he is home sick, when he is not too sick to be at work, and hasn't done anything but play PS3 games all day; yet when I am sick, I still have to watch Monkey (because he wont dare be late for work in order to take her to school), get laundry done, vacuum, clean the kitchen, and make dinner for everyone.

How on earth did I go from a lovely lunchtime conversation and my husband doing something kind for me, to being so completely aggravated that I don't even want to talk to him? This is exactly the kind of thinking behavior I am trying to halt. No more negative, selfish thinking. No more, poor me, where is my gold star, I want some credit- recognition- or gratitude thinking. I do all of the things I do, for myself (truly.) No one else cares if the house is a mess or if I actually stay in bed (or on the couch) when I am sick. I just can not stand to waste an entire free day, sick or not, away from the office. Idle time does not bode well for me. So it is completely unfair of me to be irritated with my "sick" husband because he is still in his pajamas at noon-thirty. There are tons of things to get done, but he is home sick. He should be doing nothing but relaxing, playing video games and eating the left over pizza. And when I get home, there should be a whole pile of used tissues on the floor, remnants of what he's consumed today strung all over the kitchen, an unmade bed, and three teenagers and a six-year-old looking at me asking "What's for dinner."

And I'm going to smile and ask; "What would you like?"

Acceptance

2010-02-22T01:00:00.000-08:00

Living with teenagers is an entirely different sport than hanging out with them on the weekends. They've never had a mom and are quite accustomed to "their" ways of doing things. Their way being: not doing until they've been asked 4 times and they realize you're on the verge of packing all of their belongings and moving them to the attic; passing the buck about why the garbage is overflowing, there is strawberry jelly on the counter, a 1/2 full glass of milk in the fridge while they're pouring another one; and telling you they don't know how to fold their laundry because "Grandma always just did that for us because we did it wrong." (Thanks Grandma.)

Needless to say, we're all adjusting, and I'm determined to turn this adjustment a positive thing. I don't want everyone, especially my husband, to dread coming home. I accept that I work full-time, I accept that I can't make the kids disappear when I want to, and I accept (begrudgingly at the moment) that I don't always get what I want, and that I have to make sacrifices for the sake of the "team".

Less nagging, more joking. Less yelling, more running. I mean really, does it matter if the floor is swept every day, so long as I dont walk through or set my bag in any unidentifiable stickiness again? I'll lay off about the 6 knives that were used to make 3 sandwiches in the morning, if they manage to get them into the dishwasher before I get home. Compromise is an art, apparently, so I'll become an artist.

In other words: I accept that it's time to grow up be an adult. (eek!)

I'm thinking of the lovely instead of the ugly, and I'm doing something awesome for myself. I put down my nightly "mommy juice", and I'm taking to the streets (or the forest.)

In a little over 5 weeks, I begin training for a marathon!

Why would I go and do something crazy like, sacrifice my Sunday morning sleep, for the next 6 months, to take up something like running?

Because I needed a fitness goal, and I needed something I would stick to.

Because my sister lost 25 pounds last year, in 4 months.

Because in 304(ish) days I'm getting on a plane, with 25 of my closest family members, and heading to Maui for 14 days! And, beings that Uncle Sam had alternate plans for my taxes this year, I'm not getting the enhancements I was expecting to get. So if I cant fill out the top of a "modest" bikini, I'm certainly not going to overfill the bottom of it.

Today I ran 2 miles in 24 minutes. Not bad for a beginner. My legs are a little sore, so tomorrow I rest. I'm still going to walk at lunch, because Lord knows I need a break at least once in my day, but I will go home and make dinner and watch tv with my cowboy and the heathen wonderful children, who really do make my life better than I ever thought it could be!

Run DONE!

2010-02-19T10:55:00.000-08:00

Last year I was envious of my sister and her neighbor. They joined a local running club and ran four nights a week plus Saturday mornings, to train for the marathon. Every time I logged into Facebook I would see their posts: "Run Done! ..." I so wanted to be out there running, but was the queen of excuses as to why I couldn't...

I live on a highway.
I have to make dinner.
There are 30 horses to feed.
The fridge has all this beer in it and if I don't drink it - it's just going to sit there in the dark .... how tragic would that be?!

This year, I live in the country. I'm a half-mile from the road and mile in from "main road to town", there are only 3 horses to feed, the kids can start dinner, and the Cowboy will definitely drink all the beer if I decide not to partake.

Win Win Win! I get to go run and I have no excuses not to. PLUS! I live 2 miles from a lake with some pretty fantastic trails. While it's still muddy on the upper routes, I discovered a great, mostly flat, path that is .9 miles and circles the entire lake.

I'm new to this whole running thing so I'm taking it slow. I got a 5 minute warm-up of brisk walking, the ran 2 minutes / walked 1 minute, for 20 minutes, then a 10 minute cool down and some simple stretching. Stretching is definitely my favorite things about exercising. Even when I dont realise how much I'm working, feeling my muscles lengthen, and breathe when I'm done working them, is so incredibly soothing.

An unexpected perk of running after work, I was actually pleasant when I got home the second time. After my initial drop and escape - where I drop off Monkey, change into work out clothes, and bolt back out the door - I got some quiet, me time, did something healthy that made me feel good, and when I got home I actually wanted to make dinner and converse with my family instead of mixing a drink and zoning out in front of the TV hoping to catch some elusive quiet.

(I know that quiet in front of the TV sounds contradictory; but I dont actually listen to the TV. It's just on to allow my brain to shut down.)

Today, I'm heading out into the sunshine for a lunch walk, and tonight I run again! Tomorrow is my first day to rest.

~Cheers!

Locked out and Locked in

2009-12-16T09:15:00.000-08:00

It's one of those extra special days here at the Fickle house!

I got up at 4:30 and made The Cowboy his lunch, went back to bed til around 5:15, got Monkey up, we showered, we dressed, I grabbed my purse, locked the bedroom door to keep the heathen out of my crap, and headed to the kitchen. I poured my coffee and orange juice, took my vitamins, helped Monkey brush the back of her hair, and headed toward the garage while digging in my purse for my keys...

No keys.

... (light bulb!)...

After a momentary pause I remember why I never, under any circumstances, put my keys in my pocket.

My keys are in my jacket.

And where is my jacket?

...not on the computer chair; where I usually attempt to hang it to show the heathen that we don't just leave our things carelessly around the house.

(If you're not going to put something away, at least make it look like it belongs where you leave it.)

...not tossed carelessly on the arm of the couch; where The Cowboy ~~and I~~ typically deposit ~~our~~ his hoodies, coats, hats, gloves, etc.

(I know... we're awesome role models.)

My jacket is hanging on my bedpost. Right where I left it last night after unloading the shit-ton of Christmas gifts, that I purchased yesterday, into my closet.

I am stuck at the house, all day, in my work clothes (because of course my laundry is never in the laundry room, ready to be washed), trying to entertain a Monkey who cant get to school because I cant drive because my car keys are locked in my bedroom!

I actually called my office and told them that. Seriously, if I was just trying to get out of going to work I'd have come up with a way better lame-ass excuse.

I keep going upstairs to try to get stuff out of my room or put laundry away. I even got the bright idea to wrap all the presents while everyone but Monkey is gone for the day. But the presents are locked in my room, with my keys. and the wrapping paper, tape, scissors, bows, pretty colorful super-fine-tipped Sharpies, and my wedding guest list which would be handy for sending out my Christmas cards.

I thought about working out, but I realised I'm in work clothes.

Maybe I'll bake something. Yeah! Maybe if I get all of the domestic things done, that I don't have time to do because I work all day, and if have a big dinner on the table and a smile on my face and I'm still in my "nice" work clothes instead of my green Hollister sweats or yoga pants, when The Cowboy gets home then he'll let me quit my crappy job and stay home! I can become all Martha Stuart-like and I can play with my horse while the kids are at school and I can work out and shop and be crafty and bloggy and ... and ...

Oh! What...Sorry...
Then there's reality and all...

(sigh.)

Well... at least I got a post in :o)
Oh! and the heathen's laundry is finally done.

If I don't write before then, Have a Very Very Merry Christmas!

~cheers

I don't feel like I'm thriving, but who knows.

2009-12-02T12:58:00.000-08:00

So, I have a new husband, thus I have new health insurance. Almost free, incredible coverage, fully reimbursable, union-health insurance. I'm not bitching.

OK. I am.

I loved my old doctor. I had 11 years of history with her. She delivered my daughter. For 3 years she continually told me I was not crazy, when clearly I was. She wasn't a doctor who handed out script and rushed you out the door, but she wasn't opposed to helping a girl get a good night's sleep every now and then either. She is not part of my new coverage. I married into the big box club that wants the world the "Thrive."

(sigh.)

(I'm going to make some microwave popcorn so I can grease up my keyboard as I type this... just a sec.)

(OH! did I mention that last month I found a cockroach in the drawer, in the break room at work? A COCKROACH! Seriously. I took the rest of the day off... Paid!)

OK, thanks for your patience. Back to my story.

Monday, I went in for an establishing physical... I will mention now that I had to argue with the appointment lady, who's switchboard is in another state, to get a girl doctor. "Thrive" is apparently so popular that none of their women doctors in two states was accepting new patients. I was like, "Bull Crap. I didnt choose to "Thrive" I married into it. I want a woman doctor, find me one."... and she did... sometimes it pays to hold your ground. When it doesn't, be a tactful-bitch.

(see. I was raised right!)

Fortunately this wasn't the gown with socks and speculum physical. More like a nice-to-meet-you-what-drugs-are-you-currently-prescribed-none?-would-you-like-something-oh-by-the-way-you-drink-too-much physicals.

I left work, picked Monkey up from school, arrived 15 minutes early, like their courtesy reminder call from Friday requested, and got checked in. Then we sat in a waiting room, which was more like an airport boarding area, full of people coughing and sneezing into their hands then touching the chairs and magazines and each other, all being redirected to another boarding area to enter the raffle for an H1N1 Vaccine. For An Hour.

Finally this 40ish perky lady calls the next name, "Fickle Newwife". I look around to see which germ factory's turn it is. She says it again, "Fickle Newwife" sounding a little less perky. Finally on the third time I realise she's talking about me. I've been Fickle Chic for a long time, Newwife isn't familiar on anything but paper yet.

(I hope you're enjoying this story as much as I'm enjoying this popcorn.)

I explain the name thing as she walks Monkey and I though the door. She resumes perkiness and tells me to have a seat, right there in the hall. Monkey stands, like an angel, against the wall (shocking!) and the preliminary interview begins.

"First your Temperature: 98.9 good. Blood pressure? excellent. Pulse? yep, still there. Weight? well that's not bad for someone who drinks a ~~bottle~~ glass of wine everyday. Height? You shrank an inch this year. Now follow me this way and you can wait for the Doctor."

In the exam room Monkey sat in the chair and I on the "table", and the full disclosure began... This is my favorite part because I get to talk alot about ME.

"I'm not sure but I can call my mom.... I don't think so but that sounds familiar....I think my sister has that... Yes, I have but I don't anymore... Just once, but that was a long time ago and I didn't inhale... Could you please define alcoholism (we're not mean or anything.) Really? then my whole family and almost everyone I know is likely affected by that... No, I haven't had a TDap. You're right I should probably get one. I tend to step on rusty barbed wire with my bare feet."

So the Not Doctor leaves and Monkey and I get really involved in an intense game of "I Spy" when the Real Doctor comes in.

I should've been a Doctor. She's my age (ish.) and even though she works for "Thrive" I bet she makes alot more than I do... and seriously, she spent all of 5 minutes with me over an hour after I was on her schedule.

(I'm seriously chowing this popcorn... I feel like a pig, but it's friggin' good!)

"Ears; good. Throat; normal. Glans; normal. Boobs; nothing out of the ordinary. Are you taking any medication?"
"No."
"Is there any questions you have for me."
"Well... I keep gaining weight no matter what I eat or how much I exercise."
"That happens as we get closer to 30."

(insert blank stare...)

If you went to a hair stylist, and you were asked to be 15 minutes early then you sat waiting for an hour only to have some other person who looks like a stylist but isn't actually a stylist come wash your hair and set the foils then rinse and prep you for the cut only for your real stylist to come in with the scissors and give you a quick, cold, trim then say "you should probably drink less. did you have any questions for me. OK good. it was nice to meet you. not-stylist will be right in to blow dry and style as you wish." wouldn't that piss you off?

OK. I wasn't pissed, just in awe. Taken aback, if you will.

So, Real Doctor leaves, Not Doctor returns. Monkey sees the TDap and immediately says, "Mommy, I'm not sick. I don't need a shot."
To which I reply, "No baby, the shot is for me."
"Not feelin good huh? It's OK, you're a big girl. Just sit up and take a deep breath."

I Love Monkey!

A quick stab in the arm, didn't feel a thing. I mention that the last time I got a tetanus shot it hurt immediately, like when the horse bit my arm. Serious muscle cramping ache in my arm. This time nothing.

Not Doctor explains that sometimes people hit the wrong spot.

Yesterday, my arm hurt. That horse bite, deep muscle, painful to stretch or reach for things hurt. I went to my girl gym to work out, and my arm cramped up and it was painful to do three of my arm exercises. It still hurts, popcorn and all.

Not Doctor is a liar.

This is not "Thriving".

~cheers!

I Am Thankful For My Family - because we make everyone feel welcome even when we can't stand them.

2009-11-30T07:50:00.000-08:00

Happy Holiday Season!

I just enjoyed 4 days of blissful chaos! I'm talking baking, pretending to like my in-laws, shopping, arguing with The Cowboy about how mean his mother is, dancing, drinking, cleaning, telling The Cowboy how to put up Christmas lights, and most importantly... SLEEP!)

I made 3 incredible pies, by hand from scratch with (almost) all home-grown ingredients! Spent some quality time with my family, Thursday night. (which tremendously made up for missing dinner.) Spent an entire paycheck on stuff The Cowboy and I wanted, without actually buying a single Christmas gift, on Friday. Had an amazing date night with my husband, Saturday. Decorated Gram's house, Sunday.

It Was Fabulous!

My in-law suck, but I made it through my first Thanksgiving dinner away from the people I love. Thank GOD we all live in close proximity. I could not imagine having to spend more than a couple of hours at a time with those people.

The lovely woman who birthed my husband constantly refers to his ex-wife, and previous girlfriends. Seriously... we were setting the food out and she was stating where everyone was going to sit for our meal, all of the children were to sit in another room except Pretty Boy, he sat between his father and his grandmother. I was wedged in the corner between Pretty Boy and The Cowboy. Which she so kindly explained was "where we always put the extra person."

So apparently the wedding, and house buying, and my last name matching yours on the check I write you every month so you can pay your bills, doesn't elevate me from "the extra person" to "family" status.

(Bitch.)

I was raised in a family (with manners) where it is polite to take a little bit of everything at Holiday feasts. After you've sampled you go back for a little more of the things you really liked. This pretty much assures that you are going to stuff your face and belly, thus feel like a big fat hog the rest of the evening and well into the next day. I am not so good at going back for seconds. I like to keep my jeans buttoned and I really enjoy the 2 pieces of pie I eat each year. (one at Thanksgiving. one at Christmas.)

Apparently in The Cowboy's family, everyone takes crazy-heaping-helpings of the things they like but they don't actually try or eat everything on the table. So The Cowboy, his parents, sister, and bro-in-law, their 6 kids and my 3 new kids, have piled their plates with un-glodly amounts of like 3 things each, while I enjoyed a sample size portion of everything offered. My plate was covered, but not ready to topple over. Through dinner, Cowboy's father keeps making comments about how much food I had on my plate as though I piled it high and was eating for seven. Truly, I ate less than anyone there! Then he starts asks The Cowboy "How much are you up to now?"

The Cowboy's parents are on this Ionized-Water kick. They spent the last $4000 dollars they had on this water filter machine, hoping that the pyramid scheme would work against the odds and help bring them some income.

(Perhaps if the salesman wasn't a Nazi he could sell something, to someone.)
(Anyone.)

Anyway... They're all bat-shit crazy about drinking at least 8 glasses of Ionized water, everyday, and subsequently they have both dropped like 20 pounds each. I don't see it, but that's what they're claiming. Personally, I drink a couple bottles of water at work then enjoy a little wine or a couple of beers (or whatever.) when I get home. Apparently, (and this might be a shock to some of you.) if you drink a whole bottle of wine, then drink 2 glasses of Ionized Water before you go to bed, you wont have a hangover the next day.

You don't say... (snort!)

Then there's The Cowboy's sister. See, while she has 6 kids, she is pale and emaciated. She seriously looks like she hasn't the strength to hold her newest child for more than a few seconds at a time, and she was dosing off through our "pre-meal" mingling because he blood sugar was low becasue she "forgot" the day before. No one suggested she perhaps eat a little something before dinner, you know, to keep from falling over or passing out! Did I mention she is nursing the newest addition?H

Honestly, who forgets to eat for an entire day? You feed 6 children and it doesn't occur to you to stick some nourishment in your own mouth?

The Cowboy and I are not large people. In the last 2 years we've gone from "single-skinny" to that extra 10 that happens when you get in a comfortable relationship. But we are not, by any means, fat people. His Wranglers are still a 31x38, and I'm... well I'm not a 2 but I'm not a 10.

His parents spent the entirety of our first Thanksgiving, as a family, being just vile. From the food comments, to talking about everything from his ex-wife to "who was the last girl you brought to Thanksgiving? She was lovely." ... I'm not really sure why we were "requested" in the first place.

We are so not going there for Christmas...

~cheers!

Pulling The Plug

2009-11-17T09:16:00.000-08:00

"Maybe not all friendships are meant to be saved. Maybe we're meant to spend a certain part of our lives with certain people -and move on..."

I came across this quote in Status Shuffle on Facebook. It is so true and appropraite for today. Some people, no matter how good of a time you had with them, no matter what your past shares, just have to be let go. When it is undelialby obvious that a friendship has become one sides, it's probably time to take it off life support.

~cheers!

At Least We Made an Appearance

2009-11-10T08:34:00.001-08:00

I'm going to post this... I don't know where it's going, but it will end up on my page.

Good Grief! I missed my blogs first birthday. Pardon the absence... life got crazy and I couldn't write a coherent sentence, let alone a post. There are a shit-ton of new drafts saved though. I got to work today and decided, I'm going to write for 30 minutes and I'm going to post; no matter what.

I spent last night at Pretty Boy's football banquet. WooHoo!

I'm soooo not a "soccer mom". I go to work at 6am, come home, cook dinner, drink a glass of wine, fold laundry, bathe a monkey, feed my horses, and try to make sure the kids did their homework before they got on Facebook, MySpace, and XBox.

I apparently was the only "team mom" who fit this description. They all sat together at one table, wearing black and orange, with the same damn haircut; a couple of dad's, who didn't get to stay home and watch the Steelers game, sat another; and the team, of course, sat together. (wow. that was alot of commas and semi-colons. If I were a little less lazy I would check a reference book. But seriously, I'm not kidding anyone.) The Cowboy and I sat together at the back table, clapped for each kid, and faded into the scenery.

You see, we moved the night before school started so Pretty Boy joined the team about a month late...

I know I never wrote about the wedding and moving and how both of those incredible life altering events took place within 2 weeks of each other.
I may eventually get around to that, perhaps when I no longer wake up at 2am in a cold sweat, frantic, shaking, curled up in the fetal position and wondering why in the hell I left my apartment 2 years ago in search of a "more dignified, simpler, life".
Cowboys do weird things to women. Something about the Wranglers and scuffed up boots; the crinkle in the corner of their eye when they smile. The smell of horses, fresh air, and lush acreage. It's a spell I tell you, a damned spell. They enchant you and get you to lose all your sences then POOF! Next thing you know you're married, with kids and horses and dogs and cats and acreage; and the Cowboy doesnt want to get off the couch except to come to dinner and grab another beer ... ...

(deep breath.)
(smile. blush. smile again.)

Where was I? Ah yes... football

Pretty Boy joined the team the 2nd week of school. You might know that football practice starts in August, sometimes late July, so we weren't there for all of the getting to know you, fundraising, team building bru-ha-ha. He only got to play in 2 games and, being the awesome hard working mom that I am, I'm only going to leave work early to embark on a 45 minute hell ride, to watch a game that he is going to get to play in.

I mean really, if I want to watch him stand around and act like an idiot, I can do that from the comfort of my kitchen and be making dinner and laughing with the children who actually like me.
So basically, the "banquet" was long, and boring, and most of the moms gave me "the look" when we walked in 5 minutes late because we didn't know where the damn media room was. We probably shouldnt have even bothered going, but then we'd be "those" parents. We're new in town; I was kind of hoping to meet the parents of some of the kids, that will be getting arrested with Pretty Boy in the next couple of years, before the inevitable 2am encounter at the Police Station.

Maybe I should try to get more involved with wrestling from the beginning...

... ... ...

(snicker.)
(snort.)

Cause that'll happen.

~cheers!

Prost: To Concerts in the Rain

2009-07-23T08:00:00.000-07:00

You were kind of broke. Definitely didn't have the funds to go out drinking for a night, so in anticipation you downed 3 drinks before you left and stopped at BK for a chicken sandwich on your way. Remember: You hadn't eaten anything else that day...

It was raining, lightly. But you didn't care. Steve Miller was playing, you got tickets months ago, and by gosh... you guys were going to enjoy the show.
Yes, you were!

You called your sister when you got to the parking lot, passing Mom and Dad and their buddies on the way, and told her to buy the first round and meet you inside the gate. MUAHAHAHA -- HAHAHAHAHA

It wass dumping buckets by the time you got to your spot on the grass.
Festival Seating = Love!

You found Dad, his best friend, and your uncle, in the "bar" just before the show. He was so excited that you were all there. He handed you his beer so he could go to the "bucket", and you proceed to drink it until he returned. He handed you a wad of $1's.

Your uncle says, "What's that for?"

Dad replied, "I'm buying my beer back!"

He paid $8 for a half glass of beer. SCORE! :o)

Pass the Ruby Ale...

Oh, the show started. Find your soaking wet lawn chairs on the grass!

Insert one big blur: awkward conversation with The Cowboy about past partners, wisely postponed for another time and location... general ornery banter between sister and self, as expected... random encounter with distant aunt whom you see, never... oh, time to go? you think there is going to be an encore but The Cowboy doesn't want to sit in hours of parking lot traffic... you carry the lawn chairs... you stumble, multiple times, giggling all the way to the car because you realise you are way more intoxicated than you thought or intended to be... sitting in the car your head grows heavy... um, cowboy, please pull over.

FWD>> Wake up. It's Monday, you're hung over. Refer to the text messages, that you don't actually remember sending, from the night before. Get to work (on time!). Mom calls to ask if you had fun last night, and relates the story about Dad wanting to knock out a "security" guard for not letting you and sister into the seating area. An event you and "misplaced" in your memory. Giggling. Sister calls, she couldn't drink her coffee this morning either.

Everyone concurs... Good Times Were Had!

Thank you Steve Miller, for rocking my socks!

~cheers!

HEY! Are you still reading this?!

2009-07-22T14:01:00.000-07:00

Um, Hi!

I, apparently, have not posted in over a month. Sorry 'bout that, if you've actually noticed that I haven't posted.

I didn't.

Updates:

We got a house. 4 bedrooms, 3 bathrooms, with a barn on 5 acres!! It's wonderful and magnificent and incredible. Truly. I cant not believe that I will get to call it home. More on this when all is signed and the keys are in my hand :o)

The wedding is a month from yesterday! I have less than a handful of little things left, but nothing major. The bridal shower was cheesy but fun, the bachette should be great times, and for some reason I totally can not wait to sit up til late in the night tying raffia, adorned with little silver cowboy boot charms, onto mason jars.

Ah... joy!

Seriously, I cant wait!

So I've been reading tons of incredible blogs, almost daily, and frankly... I'm envious. I have all these everyday life occurrences that would make for excellent blogging, but I don't walk around all day and night taking notes so I forget the details of these little stories.

(SHAME!)

Note to self: All the pot you smoked between 19-25 just caught up with you.

Anywho, check out the ladies (ahem!)(snicker) over at Aiming Low, for those of us who, for the sake of our own sanity, strive for good enough instead of perfect. Bouts of laughter and nodding of your head in affirmation, guaranteed!

I hope summer is treating you well. I hope your skin is golden brown and not blistered, your kids are ~~bound and gagged in the closet~~ enjoying the time off and staying out of your hair, and that you have plenty of ice cold beer to quench your thirst.

More to come, I'm sure.

~cheers!

I can justify, just about, anything

2009-06-19T09:38:00.000-07:00

I have a confession... I have not been blogging because I don't know how to post from Google Reader and I'm too lazy to log into blogger after I've read through my blog roll. It seems your adventure stories are far more entertaining to read than mine are to write. What can I say, I'm selfish and I don't like sharing.

Ok, that's not entirely true...what? it's not, I swear. I like sharing... I bought 4 bags in the past month (more on this. keep reading.) and my mom likes one so much that I've decided to give it to her for her birthday. See... I share.

I've just been spending far too many work hours shopping on eBay! I have developed a new fixation on Coach purses, and I'm trying to get better deals on wedding extras. It appears that once you say "wedding" or "bridal" the price, on simple accessories and favors, increases a million times over. Hair pins, for example, at the bridal shop run $75+ for a set of 6. If you log into eBay and search "Australian Crystal Hair Pins", one can acquire a set (or two, should you have trouble choosing) for $20.00 including international shipping.

(SCORE!)

Needless to say, my mother is a big fan of my ebaying! The Cowboy, on the other hand, is not as enthusiastic about it. His wallet was grateful that I got our wedding party gifts for a quarter of the price we would have paid at any typical engraving store. His wallet was even grateful that I got my first Coach bag for significantly less than he would have paid at even the outlet in Woodburn or Lincoln City... he was a little less grateful that I purchased an additional 3 Coach bags because I got such a killer deal on the first.

Does your brain justify things that way? If I get a really incredible deal on something I buy multiples. For instance, I can not possibly justify spending $300+ on a bag. I've never spent more than $100 on a bag, and I only went that far once. BUT! If I can get FOUR bags that would each normally cost upwards of $200, for right around $200, then by gosh I'm going to spend that $200 and not think twice. Am I crazy or is that as logical as I think it is?

Speaking of logical... I just consumed a rather large, highly caloric, authentic (read: straight from the Mexicans on the grubbinest roach coach around) breakfast burrito. I am stuffed. Like gluttonously stuffed. I knew I would feel this way when I ordered the burrito. I knew, when I grabbed five bucks and only my coffee on my way out the door this morning, that I was going to be this stuffed. I did it anyway. Why? You might ask. Because I know that this burrito will keep me full until well past dinner time. So this getting very sleepy, full like I just ate Thanksgiving Dinner feeling... so worth it. I have satisfied my hunger for the day. I will take my brisk, lunchtime walk; with no remorse about eating when I get back. When I get home I will pour a strong cocktail and serve leftovers for The Cowboy and Monkey. I will spend my evening relaxing with The Cowboy, pretending not to hear The Crazy Horse Lady ranting about the government, instead of cooking dinner and doing dishes.

Tomorrow morning, I meet with the florist to make final flower choices. Tomorrow afternoon, The Bridal Shower! We opted for rum punch over martini's only because, as mom put it, "It will be easier to keep the glasses full."

My Mom Rocks!

I'll try not to be so damn lazy, and post more. It's countdown time. 2 months and 2 days!

~cheers!

Enlighten Me... Please!

2009-05-28T12:02:00.000-07:00

The Cowboy: Where do eggs come from?

Me: Um.. chickens...

The Cowboy: But the chickens come from eggs, so where do eggs come from?
Me: Chickens. The chickens came first.

The Cowboy: Then where did the chickens come from?

Me: God. God spoke and created everything... remember?!

The Cowboy: Oh yeah.

(pause.)

The Cowboy: So, why did the chicken cross the road?

Me: To get to the other side... obviously.

The Cowboy: Well, what was on the other side that was so important?

Me: The rooster.

(giggle.)

The Cowboy: You're naughty.

(more giggling.)

~cheers!

The Little Purple Monster

2009-05-27T09:11:00.000-07:00

I mentioned, a little over a month ago, that my beloved truck died. The first truck my father bought brand new (in 1993.) and swore he would never part with. The truck that took me on innumerable adventures and excursions, that my father gave to me when I was car less and single trying to get Monkey to daycare and my rear to school and to work. I felt like I won a battle when he signed the title over to me. The Cowboy just replaced the engine a year ago. That truck was my trophy. It wasn't great, but that didn't matter. It was my Toyo, my little-red-girl-truck. Now it rests under a tree in the yard, next to two other broken down trucks awaiting The Cowboys surgical genius.

(Sooo Redneck! We have three... errr four broken down vehicles lining the driveway. "Welcome to The Swamp Ranch - Horses, Bugs, "farm" mud, and now offering Used Trucks".)

When the truck died we started scouring Craigslist for a cheap car, since we can't alter our credit until we get a house. We looked at a mexi-gangsta-fied Turcel ("All my friends know tha low-rider...") A white Mazda at a bonafied chop-shop (call this number on the door... it's a digital voice asking me to leave a message.) And ultimately found a Purple Mazda 626 in Colton for $1000.

We test drove the Little Purple Monster, and it appeared to be in fine working condition. Something that would get me to work and around town until we move and can finance a new, more suitable vehicle.

(read. Ford Expedition. Diesel.)

We lay down the cash, sign the bill of sale, take the keys and head home. Not twenty miles up the highway, the "check engine" light comes on.

(Lovely.)

We concluded that lots of cars "check engine" lights are on, and well, what's done is done. So the next day I drive the Little Purple Monster to work, the brakes start screaming at me on my way home. OK, brakes. Sure, no problem, I can do brakes.

Day four with the little purple shit, the "Hold" light starts winking at me on the way to deposit Monkey at school. I look up what that might mean (I love google.) and learn that the transmission needs to be serviced.

(Sigh.)

I register the Little Purple Bastard, get the oil changed and have the transmission serviced. The Cowboy changes the breaks AND routers, which have a lovely 1/8 inch lip on them.

Week two:
Squealing. High pitched, embarrassing, torturous squealing. All the way down the 6 mile stretch of highway to Monkey's bus stop. Good thing I was early enough for the bus that day.
High pitched, embarrassing, torturous squealing. All the way back home. Took the day off work. My boss is a very understanding man, in case I haven't mentioned this before.

No car = No work
No Work and No Kids = Sleep
Sleep = Peace

The Cowboy came home, bought a water pump and the next weekend spent an ENTIRE day putting it in. A Water pump. A DAMN water pump, required dismantling the better half of the engine and removing most of what was under the hood. And the passenger wheel.

(This is ultimately what is required to fix my Toyo. Pull out the engine and send it back to be repaired or replaced.)

Water Pump in, car happy.
Yeah? Um-No.

Week four:
Engine light has not come back on. Shifting is still quirky, but I'm letting off the gas and not forcing it through. I'm learning if I baby The Monster, it will take me where I need to go. It's not making funny or horrendous noises, it's not smoking or screeching, the blue smoke is mostly gone in the morning... we're learning to like each other.

Then for no apparent reason, the bastard died when I was half way to work on Friday. No sputtering, No stall out, No knocking or sign of protest. It just died while I was at a stop light waiting to turn right, and refused defibulation. I tried, I begged, I didnt pound on the steering wheel, I talked really nicely to it, to no avail.

Fortunately The Cowboy works four 10's, so Friday is his day to sleep in and sit in front of the computer. So I called him. He wasn't surprised. He didn't even seem upset this time. He just rolled out of bed and came to my rescue.

We chained the LPM to The Beast, his borderline obnoxiously huge truck (Which is the only material reason that I fell in love with him.) (He knows this. it's all good.) and towed it home.

(When I say the only material reason I mean; when we started dating I told him I didn't really like him I just loved his truck. It's become a running joke with us. He knows I really love him for the way his butt looks in Wranglers.)

Fortunately the car died on a Friday, so I didn't have to miss another day of work. Unfortunately that Friday landed on Memorial Day weekend. So our plans to go riding at the beach were nixed for the exciting world of car parts.

We decided not to fix the PM when it became apparent that the car itself doesn't know what is wrong. One minute it thinks its the oxygen sensor, the next it's the fuel pump (or something stupid like that.) So, just as I was preparing to call my sister and ask to borrow their nightmare spare car, The Cowboy got a text from his friend. It seems this friend acquired another horse and has decided that he needs to go buy another truck, so he is selling the Saturn he just picked up. We were welcome to buy it for the $1500 he had put into it, if we wanted. He said he wouldn't sell it to us if he didn't have absolute faith in it, since he knows the luck we've had with cars over the past 2 years.
So we went out to Greshlahem, and test drove the ... I haven't thought of a nickname for it yet. It's clean, it doesn't stutter or smoke or scream. The engine light didn't come on when I drove it home, and it seems to like me.

I tell ya, for as bummed as I was that The Cowboy was working 60 hour weeks in February and March, I am sooooo grateful now. We set that overtime aside so we'd have money for escrow when the time came, and we have since spent over half of it on 2 cars and car parts in the past month.

As I thanked the friend I told him if the car dies on me in the next month I will have to kick him out of the wedding.

I was kidding of course.

Maybe.

~cheers!

pssst! I have some things to tell you

2009-05-15T11:22:00.000-07:00

I love dill pickles. Sometimes sliced into quarter size rounds, placed on top of an equally sized square of Tillimook cheddar cheese. Other times, straight out of the jar. I used to drink pickle juice until my sister told me it was vinegar.

I cant stand sweet pickles.

When I was 18 my hair was purple for a couple months, then blonde... bad bad blonde. When I was 16 it was black, and red... most of the time.

I have very plain, annoyingly fine, uncurlable brown hair. With highlights, of course.

Why does spell check want to take the "e" off the end of "blonde"?

I got my first tattoo when I was 16. My mother discovered it just hours after arriving at our hotel in Disney World, the beginning of a 2 week adventure. All she said was, "That better not be real."
It was never mentioned again. You already know this because I am alive to tell you about it.

I love egg salad, but only when it's made with Miracle Whip. I think part of the reason I love it so much is that my sister hates the smell. When we were growing up we went skiing alot; I would always take egg salad sandwiches, which would stink up the entire cab of the truck, annoying the crap out of my sister, often resulting in her sitting outside in the snow to eat her lunch. With her outside, I could stretch out and take over the entire backseat. Thus my love for, and her loathing of, egg salad was born.

Yesterday I ran two miles in 19.9 minutes. But if I'd have tried to run a third I would have collapsed. If I slow down I will be walking, so perhaps I need to just keep running like I did yesterday and someday I will get to three, or thirty minutes... then six and an hour... then...

Tuesday night I drank an entire fifth of Citrus Skyy and didn't realize it until I went to make another drink and the bottle was empty.
I was not hungover on Wednesday.
This is a little concerning to me, but not enough to do anything about it at this juncture.

If someone had told me, ten years ago, that my life would be the way it is I would have told them they were full of it; then, armed with that information, I probably would have gone on the adventure that everyone thought I went on after High School. I stayed in town for a boy whom I allowed to crush all of my aspirations. Then I left him and started on another adventure, in the same city.
I am really glad no one told me.

I hated beer and wine until I was 24. Now to go beer or wine tasting, is one of my favorite things. I have learned to appreciate the color, aroma, taste, texture, and various complexities of beers and wines. While I am far from a connoisseur, I am definitely an aficionado.

My favorite beer is Drop Top. If you've never experienced it's milky amber goodness, I strongly suggest you add it to your list of things to try before you die.

I loved writing, most of my life. That is until I took my college English class. I never put much thought into being grammatically correct, I just wrote and things always seemed to turn out alright. Then my college English professor got all anal about grammar and proper punctuation and now I can not seem to write a proper sentence.

It's a random road trip weekend! First, pick North-South or East-West. Second, flip a coin; Heads = North (or east), Tails = South (or west). Third, grab a camera, toothbrush, and a jacket with a hood (just in case). Fuel up the truck and drive in the direction the coin stated. There is no specified mile marker to the next coin toss. There is no destination or expectation. Just adventure. See what's down that road you never turned down before.

Happy Friday!

~cheers

Three Love Letters

2009-05-12T09:58:00.000-07:00

Dear The Wonderful People at Chase;

Congratulations on your acquisition of WAMU! I'm sure you are very excited about the new surge of business coming your way.
Personally, I think it's sad that so many people are now being forced to deal with your incompetence and complete disregard for your customers. I, for one, completely understand. I'm sure acquiring all of those struggling mortgages was a brilliant idea, given the kickbacks Uncle Sam is going to give you when they all finally go into foreclosure. But really, you should be just a little bit willing to actually try sell the houses while they are in short-sale. If not for the fact that foreclosure can destroy a family's credit, think about the families out there that have been responsible and are able to buy in these times. If you dont want to sell anything, just say so. But losing paperwork, twice, and then taking the maximum 14 days, EACH TIME, to look at a damn fax, is just a little ridiculous.
I am not trying to steal a property from you. I would like to purchase it at a fair market value; which is completely insane on my part anyway, but that's beside the point. I have financing available. All I need your "customer service agent" to do is to say, "Yes, we will accept this price." or "No, a person's life earnings, is not quite enough for this particular plot of land and moderate house." That's all you really have to do. Yes, or No. If you say, "No." I can hopefully get an offer in on another property that is not in short sale, and which I love far more than the one you own, before my pre-approval expires and I have to start this entire process over again. The problem is the Cowboy, the wonderful loving man that he is, wants the house that you own, more than his children or our pending marriage. (ok, not literally.) He thinks it's perfect for our needs and that the work needed to make it our dream home is far less than that of the house I actually want.
So please, just answer that pesky real estate agent that calls you every day. Just tell her "No. We actually want this property to foreclose so that we can destroy a family's credit, then sell it for less than what your people are offering." or say, "Sure, we will accept this offer. Assuming that, in another 45 days in the closing process, the buyers bank is still willing to offer them the killer financing deal they've spent the last 5 months trying to secure."

May your greedy asses fry in your Lear jets!

A Slightly Disgruntled Would-Be Home Buyer

... ... ... ...

Dear Gigantic-ASS Hornet,

It was kind of you to greet me in the bathroom this morning. You are lucky that I was only wrapped in a towel and that Mr Man was still home, lest you would have been smashed into, and likely along with, my medicine cabinet's mirror. Your dance around the light bulbs was awe inspiring. It's almost like you knew I was waiting to hit you with my hairbrush just as soon as you got far enough away from anything breakable.
I'm not entirely sure how you got in there, while I slept, but I hope you find your way out before I get home.
There is a large can of Raid waiting for you.

Loathing You,
The Girl Who's Shower You Ruined

... ... ... ...

Dear Monkey,

Please quit kissing Henry!
You are only 6. You can not have a boyfriend for at least 20 more years! Trust me, boys are really not worth your time until then anyway.

Love
Your Mommy

~cheers!

You did not just say what I think you said

2009-04-27T08:29:00.000-07:00

Happy Monday!

Have I regressed to prudishness or, if after hearing what I heard this morning, would you would feel even a twinge of the same stupefaction that I am experiencing?

Upon exiting the K-8 school that is educating my 6 year old, my right ear is graced with this incredible question: "What the F**K are you wearing?"

Not absolutely sure that I was hearing a student rather than a song or recording or something, I look over to see three boys, 10 years old max. I'm not even kidding, that lovely question was directed from one of them to another.

A fourth grader dropping an F-Bomb in the school yard! Lovely.

This is not so much astonishing as the fact the I was apparently the only person who was even phased by it. The recess ladies, (I don't know if it's still ok to call them that. Please correct me if that phrase was deemed politically incorrect.) (or don't.) who were standing in ear shot and didn't so much as bat an eye, went about their coffee sipping and smiling at the parents depositing their children. There was no bugging eyes or covering of mouths by other kids that the boy had used the expletive of all expletives... nothing.

I'm pretty sure I send my child to school for an education. Meaning to learn. Things she needs to know, behaviors she should exhibit, in order to be a respectful and self sufficent person. Do we honestly live in a society that has deteriorated so far that it is now deemed pseudo acceptable for a 10 year old child to talk to his peers this way? I mean, really, adults shouldn't even talk like that. (you know this.)

I know that I heard and said some things in school that would have mortified my mother. But some words we just not uttered, and had they been parents certainly would have been called and soap likely would have been administered.

I'm not trying to get preachy, but what the hell happened to the world of just a little decency? Mutual respect for other people. Letting kids be kids. Telling a child, I don't care whose child, that they are out of line or they shouldn't behave a certain way, because well... they are out of line and shouldn't behave that way! If some kid is bullying my child, or swearing in front of her, I let them know that they should not act/speak that way. I've had parents chew me out for correcting their little spawn, even when they knew the brat was out of line.

Way to go buddy, lets reinforce bad behavior by acting like a jack ass to another parent. Couldn't you just correct your child and let them know that cursing at a 4 year old is just not OK, PERIOD!

I seriously wanted to correct the kid at school this morning. I'll admit it, kids older than 7, that I don't know, scare me. Kids are violent. They have guns, no respect for anyone or anything, are seemingly invincible, and they know it.

The lack of common sense in our State Offices deems that; we can not discipline them, correct them, hurt their feelings or tell them that they are not entitled to anything except food and shelter. These things are called abuse and cruelty. Instead we are supposed to set them up for disappointment, pay for their therapy, and let them move back in to our homes when they get fired for asking their bosses "What the F**k are you wearing?"

~cheers!

I started over here and ended up waaayyyyy over there

2009-04-23T10:49:00.001-07:00

What a lonley day. It was one of those mornings that would have been better spent under the down, curled up with a book.
The sunshine is leaving... I'm watching it make it's exit at this very moment.
Goodbye friend. Come back soon... like before lunch!

I'm thinking of about a billion other places I would rather be, than sitting at this desk. This is nothing new, mind you, but I feel that I have successfully accomplished every single personal task that can be completed from behind a computer. I officially need a week off just to tend to personal matters.

My To Do List:

- Contact a Minister and meet them in person
- Take new crap car in for a tune up
- Pray that a tune up is all new crap car needs
- Pick shoes and accessories for self and 4 bridesmaids
- Meet with florist
- Get house to a living state of clean before Crazy Horse Lady comes back home and fills it with smoke and grease, again!
- Find back-up house incase offer falls through
- Ride Horsey before he actually does forget what a saddle feels like
- Refrain from beating children (repeat as necessary)

It seems the clock drags to 4:30p.m. then fast forwards to 5:30a.m. and there is not a moment in between to get anything accomplished besides dinner and laundry. I'm finding it increasingly difficult to be cheerful when I get home, and I'm losing my patience with the Cowboy oldest and youngest children.

Is this what I was waiting for all my life? Let me warn the kids. Heed this advise: Your parents are right. Enjoy being a kid. Stop trying to grow up so fast. There is pleanty of time to be a grown up... just enjoy growing!

Now... get the heck out of my house. Use your imagination, thats fun part of your brain that rarely gets any exercise. Go get dirty!

(I know they aren't listening.)

~cheers!

CLASSIFIED!

2009-04-17T09:39:00.000-07:00

Back in January my mother took my sister and I to the Bridal Show. An overwhelming event held at the Convention Center where all of the big shops in the Metro area rent booths and try to convince brides-to-be that if they don't book every aspect of their wedding five years in advance, their wedding will be disastrous. It's a cross between wandering through a mall full of kiosk vendors who want to put smear you with crappy lotion and shopping for a used car. But we endured, and I managed to get all the information I could possibly want or need without committing to anything that day.

The most important parts of the wedding, to me, were my dress, location, and the photographer. I confess, since confirming these three essentials I've kind of slacked off on everything else. It got really frustrating at first. It seemed like every vendor I called was already booked, or had booked up in the time it took me to call them back. Apparently, Christmas was not early enough to get engaged in order to plan an August wedding. (Seriously, one vendor all but said that.) Fortunately, things are coming together. We got a great outdoor venue that includes catering, and booze! (SCORE!) Our photographer has an incredible portfolio! The flowers are handled. The cake is ordered. All I really need is a minister, and I still have 4 months to go so... Whoever said it takes a year (or a decade) to plan a wedding is just trying to get your money before anyone else does.

Which brings me to, The Dress!

Almost immediately after The Cowboy proposed, I started looking at dresses. I didn't really have anything in mind at first, but I knew that something super extravagant was just not my style. I got a couple of ideas, and while meandering though the Bridal show, I saw a dress that stopped me in my tracks. I walked up to the lady at the booth and said "I have to try that dress on." She smiled, opened her little appointment book and penciled me in for the next weekend.

Fast forward seven days...

We booked two dress fittings that day. The first in Clackamas at 9am the other in Longview at 1pm.

Coffee ingested and a little weary, we entered the first shop. It took an hour just to look though all of the dresses. Each cut has a section, and each section had between 10 and 25 dresses. Once I had picked one or two from each section we proceeded to the dressing room. The process of elimination had begun. Many were easy to nix before I even looked in the mirror. I never felt like such a princess (I kinda liked it.) (shhhh.) Trying on wedding dresses is a lot like playing dress up! (maybe that's what it's all about.) I narrowed it down to two and had to put them both on twice before I picked the one I really liked.

I knew it was nothing like the dress that I had seen at the bridal show, but I really felt like Cinderella in it. I almost cried when I had it on, then I felt silly for being all girly, only to be reminded by several strangers that brides are supposed to get all excited and emotional when they find the dress. We took down all of the information about the dress and told our attendant that I needed a day to think about it. She tried everything she could to get me to order that dress that day, but I told her if it really was the one that I wouldn't need to rush... I still had 8 months!

We stopped in Vancouver to pick up my Grandmother, on the way to Longview. All the way up there all I could think about was how I felt in that dress, and how incredibly exhausted I was.

We got to the cute little hole in the wall shop. There was a tiny (in comparison) section to the right, a platform with 3 mirrors to the left, and a larger room full of hideous prom dresses to the left of that. The dressing rooms in the back. The owner checked us in, I told her I wanted to try on the dress from the bridal show, she said she knew the one and told me to go ahead and look through what she had hanging just to see if there was anything else I liked. I picked 3 other dresses, and almost immediately discarded them in comparison to the dress from the Clackamas store. She saved the one from the bridal show for last. She said she just had a feeling about it.

It's not extravagant. It's rather simple actually. It doesn't have a bustle, it doesn't require a slip, the train is an accessory that I later decided to add.

The minute I put it on I knew it was The One, as assuredly as I know The Cowboy is the one. I wasn't emotional. I didn't feel like a silly girly princess. I felt like a confident, beautiful woman. I went out to the platform and imagined the look on his face when he sees me for the first time on our wedding day. It was (is.) perfect! I found a simple veil on the rack that didn't cover my face, but is a hair piece, with these clear sequined "daisyesque" flowers all around the trim, which completely matches the detail on the dress. The shop owner was a little surprised when I showed her. She said she couldn't have picked a better one for that dress.

I made my decision. My mother was hesitant. She said I didn't look as excited about it as the one at the other shop. I told her I was tired, but I knew this was my dress. The shop owner told us it could take 12 weeks to get the dress in so we needed to order it as soon as possible. I didn't want to drive back up to try it on again so I decided then and there to just go with it. As she made her calls to place the order and started all of the paper work, my mother just looked at me with questioning eyes. She was trying to read me, to see if I was settling. Upon passing her silent quiz, she paid for the dress.

I slept so hard that night. I dreamt that the dress came in and I hated it. That I wished I had picked the other dress, and that I felt awkward on my wedding day and everything was just awful. I woke up a little panicked, but reassured myself that I picked the right dress and would have had the same thoughts about the other dress had we decided to go with that one.

The dress came in two weeks ago. (12 weeks my ass.) I took Monkey with me to try it on again, and you know what? I LOVE IT more than I did the first time I tried it on! When Monkey saw it she said, "Oh Mommy, it's perfect."

It Is Perfect!

(and since this blog is my secret... I can post a picture for you to see!)
(no that's not me.)

~cheers!

Busted!

2009-04-17T08:00:00.000-07:00

Everyone knows that all men look at porn. That's a given. It's expected.
That being said, it still bums me out when I actually bust The Cowboy looking at porn on the computer. It's a little "awe com'on" when I find it in his phone, but to come home from picking up my wedding dress, walk up the back steps and look through the back door (which is a big window) to see naked chicks on the computer monitor... it's a little depressing.

All in all I think I handled it well. I shook the handle (to get his attention.) set my purse down on the porch, told monkey to go find the puppies, so she wouldn't catch a glimpse, and methodically started digging for my keys. He had to close several screens before he could come open the door. He was pale... that part was funny. He thought my mom was with me. Fortunately she had decided not to come in. I didn't say anything, but I didnt act like I wasnt saying anything because I was upset either. I just went through the kitchen and set down my things then went to folding the laundry.

I know The Cowboy likes beautiful naked women. I've happened upon his "picture" files on more than one occasion. And, I've met more than one of his ex-girlfriends. I know it's silly to let it bug me and I try really hard not to, because I know that ALL guys do it. There is just something about not being ogled by the man who wants to marry me, knowing that he ogles lots of far more beautiful, photo shopped women, that just ...

dammit! it hurts my feelings and makes me feel inadequate.
OK I said it.

I know it's stupid and lame and well... stupid and lame, but I cant help it. God didn't bless me with beautiful full breasts and it's something I've always been very self conscious of. I've suggested a remedy to this problem, but he seems to think that should I get this "correction" it will automatically mean I will cheat on him... because apparently that's what women do when they get that done. I have a different opinion; these are for ME!

Him being fully aware of this insecurity of mine does not stop him from hunting down better things to look at, on the internet. I don't even know how to broach this subject with him. I know that, really, I just need to get over it. I know he does it... just something about catching him, not just finding the pictures, but actually catching him surfing thorough them...
grrrr......

~cheers (it's Friday)

I Am Jack's Incurable Boredom

2009-04-16T15:53:00.000-07:00

Have you ever read a post on another blog and wondered if you had your own version of Tyler Durden and have just happened upon them? Have I started another post with another version of this very question? aw jeeze, I think I have. But I'm not going back to check.

I really just want to kill the last half hour of my work day, and it occurred to me that I don't blog anymore. Mostly, because I read what I write and am dumbfounded that anyone would read this crap so I just delete post instead of posting post.

The economy has finally struck my place of employment. Not in the sense that I'm out of a job, rather I get to come to the office every day and sit at my desk and surf the Internet and hope that the phone rings or a fax/email comes. My office has never been so organized, and frankly I'm afraid of what will happen if (when.) things pick up again. I have taken on everything because, well, there is just nothing to do. I am so very grateful that I am still employed full time, I just dont handle boredom well... I get a little stir crazy.

There has actually been a lot going on, outside of work. The House Hunt. The Wedding Plans. An Unexpected Car Quest. oh the things I have to share...

Perhaps, just maybe, I will conjure up some stories to share in the next few days. Perhaps this will keep me from reloading the Cars For Sale page on Craigslist every two minutes.

Ok, probably not. But anything is possible. Right?

~cheers!

If that isn't irony...

2009-04-16T09:46:00.000-07:00

Hey look who works for the Oregon Department of Revenue...

When exactly did He become a tax collector?

Happy Thursday!

~cheers

Approved!

2009-03-20T11:04:00.000-07:00

We got our pre-approval yesterday! So, I'm back in the spirit of actually looking at houses with the intent of purchasing one. The following things have occurred to me in the past 18 hours:

1) Property taxes in Oregon, for anything worth living in, are friggin' re-cock-u-lous!

2) It seems that every place with land is only for sale because some crap-ass developer bought out everything surrounding said land and has since turned another bit of beautiful country into one more suburban tract-housing hell hole!
(No offence to those who love their suburban homes.)
These developers need to leave some country for those of us who want to enjoy scenery and our horses, rather than board them and see them only when the weather permits. Besides... they built all these cookie cutter "custom" homes that apparently no one could actually afford, so now these homes sit vacant on land that was a family's heritage, but that family was forced to sell because some city decided that rezoning and forcing them out in order to expand is what was best for them... assholes...

sorry. off my box. moving on.

3) Whoever invented wood paneling should be hung by their Achilles and beaten with said paneling

3.5) and who in their right mind would panel every wall in their house, and then think someone might want to purchase that house some day?

4) The Cowboy baffles me... he has searched endlessly for months on end (probably years) for houses he may potentially some day want to purchase in the hopes of removing his parents' claws from his checking account. When I told him we got our approval, what did he do? He watched TV, completely ignored the computer (which is not like him at all) and didn't so much as say "Sweet!"...

I know this adventure has only just begun.

Happy Weekending!

~cheers!

Because Life Aint Always Beautiful

2009-03-18T15:31:00.001-07:00

15 random things that I love:

sunshine - through a window but preferably on my skin

fresh air - especially after it rains and the sun has returned

Tanner the quarterhorse buckskin gelding

the internet - which I completely take for granted

Widmere Drop Top - mmmmmmm

the accomplished feeling I get when I work out - especially when I dont want to

cuddling - in pajamas

monkey's laugh - especially when she's being tickled

blue skies

green grass

the coast - rain or shine

camping - without kiddos (sorry, it's just more fun)

rodeos - bring 'em

dancing - with the Cowboy

and

orange juice - plain old OJ

I sat here all day trying to come up with something to write that I might actually be interested in reading... I got nothin'! It seems so easy to write about the hard stuff and not so easy to think about the good stuff. So I decided to just write some good stuff.... forgive, or enjoy :o)

~cheers

Dear Future Father-In-Law

2009-03-11T11:26:00.000-07:00

Remember your ex-daughter-in-law? Well, I'm nothing like her; I'm not going anywhere. So play nice. Because trust me Sir, I'm going to out live you. Which means, I can tell everyone who thinks that you're upstanding (a short list I assure you) what a bitter, rotten, bastard you really are. It also means I will likely get to speak at your funeral.

Love Always (because I'm going to be required to),
Your Adoring Almost Daughter-In-Law

PS
Just wait till I get to sign the checks ;o)
XOXO
~~~~~~~~~

I remember as a kid being told, "If you don't have something nice to say, don't say anything at all." I was never very good a keeping this motto.

It has taken many moons for me to learn that speaking my mind is not always the intelligent thing to do. Sometimes it's better to let other people bury themselves, than to call them out on their idiocy. While biting my tongue, quite literally at times, may be a bit painful; it's never quite as bad as eating my own words or worse having to apologise because, wrong or right, my opinions are neither wanted or appreciated.

Having said that...

I think it's best I bite my tongue.
and smile politely.

~cheers

Finally! I can stop typing and take a walk

2009-03-05T11:23:00.000-08:00

This mornings observations:

Burnt raisin bread toast is far better than burnt regular toast.

14 year old boys should be quarantined until they mature to, at least, a tolerable level of "normal".

There are 5, yes five, different kinds of bar-b-cue sauce in my fridge, and ZERO salad dressing.

Children consume food with the semblance of raccoons plundering a garbage can. But for some reason they only want the things I covet. They never want the healthy things at dinner, why would they want them for a snack? Eat the friggin' left over pizza, leave my salad goodies alone!

Maternity panties are a non-essential item, and should be banned... except for high school girls who don't use condoms. For them, maternity panties should be mandatory. (thank you kaydee.) Actually, all teen-aged girls should be required by law to wear unflattering undergarments... and possibly chastity belts.
(can you tell the I have 2 nearly teen-aged step-daughters to be?)

Portland truly is a melting pot. A town full of character. Television is really not needed in this town. If you want entertainment, just pop down to any local coffee shop (not Starbucks. they can be avoided with little effort here.) with a book or laptop to pretend you're engrossed in, and just observe your surroundings... without bothering your neighbors, who are likely doing the same thing. Or they just want to be left the heck alone. Which is completely understandable.
I grew up in Portland. I utilized Tri-Met (public transportation) for the better part of 10 years, therefore have become aloof to the oddity of others outside of my immediate world. I have seen my share many crazy ass people, even from this town's standards.
There are some folks in this corner of the planet, who would assume that because you made direct eye contact with them, for a nanosecond, it means you want to immediately follow them home and try not to make babies. It's sometimes daring to simply offer a friendly smile and hello to strangers anymore, lest you invite a stalker into your life.
When I was 7 months pregnant I was on MAX heading downtown to meet my mom for lunch, and this group of guys, 17-20ish, asked me if I wanted to hop off and go get high. Seriously! I was WAAAY obviously pregnant. I mean, thanks for offering, but get a life. After they departed the train, an honest to goodness DEA agent flashed me his badge and started questioning me about if I knew those guys, and did they really just say what he thought they said. Honestly, things like that are not so uncommon. You'd be amased at the things you hear people talking about on Tri-Met. It's like they think no one can hear them. But I suppose when it seems common place to discuss your sex life, drug use, or to make drug orders in public, one might begin to assume that everyone does it so it becomes psuedo-acceptable.

(sigh.)

I love this town. I hate it too, in the way that many people hate where they grew up... ghosts and old drama and such. Still, hearing another person's tale of Tri-Met (that really does sum it up.) never ceases to make me giggle a little and say "yup." to myself. I can relate completely.

This post went in an entirely different directed than when I started. Though I can not bring myself to split it into separate posts because it is a fairly accurate trip through the spagetti.

~cheers

White Russian Blackberry Cheesecake

2009-02-26T12:17:00.000-08:00

I'm trying to decide on a cake for the wedding, but I'm not a cake person. I love cheesecake... like more than anything in the world of desserts, but I come from a family of lacotse intolerant people, so having cheesecake as my wedding cake would be just cruel. Besides, it's in August so I scrapped that thought. Then I stumbled upon a list of "Specialty Cakes" on one bakery's website... HEAVEN!
Kahlua Mudslide: Chocolate cake soaked with vodka, baileys and Kahlua, filled with a french vanilla cream.
Peaches and Cream: Moist white cake baked with fresh peaches soaked with peach schnapps filled with white chocolate cream.
*Have a favorite drink let us know we can create just about any flavor*
Black Forest Cake: chocolate cake with french vanilla cream, chocolate ganache and cherries
and of course: White russian blackberry cheesecake

I MUST SAMPLE HERE!!!

Then I went to my cycling class, and kicked my own butt... seriously, just reading White Russian Blackberry Cheesecake (my mouth is watering again...) I felt I needed to burn off the calories I fully intend to consume when I taste this cake.

~~~~~

I tend to space off.

Seriously! My brain just shuts down and I become just mildly conscious of the fact that there are things going on around me. I think people refer to it as daydreaming, but I don't dream about anything... kind of like when I sleep... THAT'S IT! I'm daysleeping.

When I get caught in this state, it can take me a few seconds to "wake up". Some people don't notice so much, others think it's weird. I did it at a cafe the other day and Cowboy (my love) made fun of me. He said I went cross eyed. I think he was full of it, but then again things do get a little fuzzy...
I think sometimes my brain just needs to rest and sort out it's intake so it kind of just goes in sleep mode for 15-30 seconds to reset.

This doesn't really bother me. It's something that has always happened. It happens more when I'm stressed or overtired. It's actually kind of relaxing.

anywhoo...

~~~~~

We got pre-approval for a mortgage! YES!!! Cowboy is still diligently scouring John L Scott's website, every-stinkin-day. The same houses are there. The very same ones we've been looking at for 6 months... Now he's not ready to actually talk to the realtor and go LOOK at the houses. We're right there... it's at our fingertips...

~cheers~

Dancing Crazy Superbug Love

2009-02-23T13:20:00.000-08:00

I'm getting the superbug. I can feel it in my muscles. I'm achy and tired and feeling all around craptacular.

But I made it to work today. Half asleep at the wheel. Seriously! Driving half asleep is worse than driving after perhaps consuming one or three too many.

(Not that I have ever done that.)

Moving on.

I had a blast Saturday night! We went out for a friend's birthday; and it seemed that everyone we knew, related to that friend and not, was at the bar, in good spirits (or full of them) and having a fabulous time. We danced most of the night, got to catch up with some friends we haven't seen in a while, and really enjoyed ourselves... OH! and we only spent forty bucks!

(seriously, two alchys in a bar for 4 hours only spending $40... that's just awesome, wouldn't you say?)

I will take a moment to say that I do not miss my old friends. I do not miss the drama, I do not miss the fighting, I certainly do not miss their apparent need to create drama and fights in the event that something is not already brewing.

Yes. Saturday night, Life was GRAND!

However.

I was crazy pregnant woman yesterday.
Except I'm not pregnant, so I guess I was just...
crap!

It was one of those days that should have been spent in bed, with a book and earplugs. Instead it was spent on one emotionally distraught misadventure after another; while my love did actually feed most of my roller coaster, he also caught the receiving end of the majority of my frustration, agitation, raw emotion, and subsequent burnt pizza.

The alarms should have sounded when I felt like crying, yes crying at the discovery that there were not enough eggs to make french toast, like I wanted. So My Love decided to make pancakes instead.

Saturday morning, I took the girls adventuring. He made himself an extraordinary to do list, which upon it's completion would have left Sunday for us to spend at our leisure. Only, unbeknown to me, he got to his parent's house, parked his rear in front of the computer and didn't come home until 8:00 pm, when we were supposed to be across town at a friend's birthday party.

At the discovery that, once again, our Sunday was going to be spent chasing everything he neglected to do on Saturday, I was... less then happy. THEN He sat on his rear, in front of the computer AGAIN, looking at houses for 2 hours, THEN he had to read the paper, THEN...

Ok, it was just NOT a good day.

Today, aside from being achy and tired and almost killing multiple people in my half asleep drive to the office, has been pretty ok.

I'm sheepishly trying to make ammends with My Love, who is surprisingly not ready to kill me.

(He did tell me not to ever have a bad day again.)

I discovered Google Reader. (sigh.) I'm in love. The office shall never be the same.

I also had my first Diet Rockstar in more than a month.

Oh -- it's raining. And truth be known, I'm glad.

~cheers

The Return to Random

2009-02-20T09:35:00.000-08:00

I offer my apologies for the... crappyness of my blog.

I started off as random as my brain is, then it seems I sank into somewhere yucky.
I'm trying to resurrect the spunky side of me; winter can be such a bitch sometimes.

Bear with me... I'm trying :o)

~~

Hi there Mr. Sun!

You are my friend. I love to walk with you in the afternoon. To feel your warmth on my face, even when you are not strong enough to warm the air around me.
I cant wait for the flowers to bloom and the cold to stop... please keep up the good work and come out more often, I've missed you!
xoxo

~~

Dear Mister Jerk-O, (I forgot the other name I called you in this blog. It may or may not have been nicer, but I assure you it had the same loathing sentiment behind it.)
Learn how to write a packing slip. If the client ordered 200 sets, we are billing for 200 sets, and sending 200 sets, write 200 sets not 600 pieces.
I know it makes sense in your brain, but not all of us think like you. That doesn't mean either one of us is wrong, per se. It just means that if I cant bill it so the client understands it, well... you did it wrong!
Enjoy your 3 day weekend. I'm scheming to clean out your desk while you are away.

The Naggy Bitch in the office

~~

Today is Friday.
It's Friday, it's Friday... doin' the happy dance!

~~

Oh! So, I got new boots for Valentines Day!

Because My Love loves me. He keeps saying I'm spoiled. But I reassure him that I'm just loved!

Thank you My Love! I hope you enjoyed your massage... oh and I bought you that cologne you love because I also LOVE it. So open it and wear it... every day... please!

~~

I also got this new phone, at "wizen-wizer's" as monkey says. It's pretty SWEET!

It's got a touch screen, a QWERTY keyboard, a decent camera, two incredible screens, and an actual web browser; which I completely admit I love but have yet to actually master.

I still amused just playing with the scrolling part of the touch screen. It's just fun to watch my contact list and inbox spin uuuuppppppp and dooooownnnn, with the touch of my finger.
Yes. I know that I'm as easily amused as a small child. That's part of the greatness of being ME!

(I know the US is in a depression and everyone is freaking out and scrimping and saving and here I am planning a wedding, applying for a mortgage and buying new boots and a new phone... but there are a handful of us that are still working and doing our best to single handedly revive the economy. BESIDES, my other phone snapped in half one day when I flipped it open... seriously! One of the hinges broke and the top part spun around backwards when I opened it.)

~~

Coffee... need I say more?
oooooh frozen berries for my oatmeal!

~~

... Cheers!

Catching Wild Pigs

2009-02-19T14:37:00.000-08:00

I did not write this. I dont know who did. My father forwarded it to me, and it struck me profoundly enough to pass it on for all of you who may happen across this blog. I've always been a roll with the punches kind of person. I dont watch the news, it's depressing. I got so incredibly disgusted with the election that I just basically quit paying attention to anything on a national level. I have a job, I can buy food and take care of my family; everything else seems so forign to me anymore... it's all reality TV. But I read this and some things started clicking, I know something needs to be done. But What? How do we stop the seemingly inevitable?

Catching Wild Pigs.....
Reply to: pers-1041587524@craigslist.org
Date: 2009-02-19, 11:08AM
Catching Wild Pigs... There was a Chemistry professor in a large college that had some exchange students in the class. One day, while the class was in the lab, the Prof. noticed one of the exchange students who kept rubbing his back and stretching as if his back hurt. The professor asked the young man what the matter was. The student told him he had a bullet lodged in his back. He had been shot while fighting communists in his native country who were trying to overthrow his country's government and install a communist government. In the midst of his story he looked at the professor and asked a strange question. He asked, 'Do you know how to catch wild pigs?' The professor thought it was a joke and asked for the punch line. The young man said this was no joke. 'You catch wild pigs by finding a suitable place in the woods and putting corn on the ground. The pigs find it and begin to come everyday to eat the free corn. When they are used to coming every day, you put a fence down one side of the place where they are used to coming. When they get used to the fence, they begin to eat the corn again and you put up another side of the fence.They get used to that and start to eat again. You continue until you have all four sides of the fence up with a gate in the last side. The pigs, which are used to the free corn, start to come through the gate to eat, then you slam the gate on them and catch the whole herd. 'Suddenly the wild pigs have lost their freedom. They run around and around inside the fence, but they are caught. Soon they go back to eating the free corn. They are so used to it that they have forgotten how to forage in the woods for themselves, so they accept their captivity.' The young man then told the professor that was exactly what he seeing happening in America 'The government keeps pushing the people toward socialism and keeps spreading the free corn out in the form of programs such as supplemental income, tax credit for unearned income, tobacco subsidies, dairy subsidies, payments not to plant crops (CRP), welfare, medicine , drugs, etc, etc, etc. while the people continue to lose their freedom - just a little at a time. One should always remember: There is no such thing as a free Lunch! Also, a politician will never provide a service for you cheaper than you can do it yourself.' So, if you see that all of this wonderful government 'help' is a problem confronting the future of democracy in America , you might want to send this on to your friends. If you think the free ride is essential to your way of life then you will probably delete this email, but God help you when the gates slam shut! Listen closely to what the politicians are promising you - just maybe you will be able to tell who is about to slam the gate on America "A government big enough to give you everything you want, is big enough to take away everything you have." Thomas Jefferson

Location: Clackamas County
it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests

Original URL:http://portland.craigslist.org/clc/rnr/1041587524.html

Love Is

2009-02-13T07:00:00.000-08:00

I started to leave this comment on Brandy's page, but thought I'd use it as a post instead.

Finish this sentence: Love is ________________________________.

Love is... plucking his uni-brow into two, distinct, well manicured, eyebrows; without teasing him about it, because he was man enough to ask you to do it.
Love is... giving up the last bite of a perfect steak, just because you know how badly the other person wants to taste it
Love is... saving him hot water on Sunday morning
Love is... laughing when he raises his voice toward you, because you guys dont fight
Love is... reading Green Eggs and Ham, every single night
Love is... our special bedtime song
Love is... waking up in his arms
Love is... Over cooked steak (because he cant get it right yet), perfect potatoes, and Coors in a bottle
Love is... not wondering or worrying, because you know they're yours!

HAPPY VALENTINES* DAY!

*If you loathe Valentine's Day like I do and try to show the people you love how much you love them every single day of the year: HAPPY SATURDAY, tomorrow!

~cheers!

Pirate Princess Monkey

2009-02-12T13:43:00.000-08:00

My Daughter is the light of my world
She is my reason for breathing, for growing up, for going to work everyday, for not settling.

My Daughter once broke my nose with her forehead
I tried to pick her up while she was protesting

My Daughter is a princess
and acts accordingly, on all levels

My Daughter's life saved my life
Plain and simple

My Daughter was born with huge feet
I had to buy her 3 month socks as a newborn

My Daughter is misunderstood
Frequently

My Daughter is difficult
Just like her mother

My Daughter used to throw these intense fits
I was afraid to take her anywhere for an entire year

My Daughter is strong willed
May that never be broken

My Daughter is beautiful
And she's missing 4 teeth

My Daughter loves all things girly
I dont know where this came from

My Daughter gives the worlds best hugs
And kisses

My Daughter loves Green Eggs and Ham
Thank you, Thank you, Sam-I-Am

My Daughter is afraid of large groups of people
and the hair dryer, vaccume, bathroom fan, and coffee grinder

My Daughter can speak!
Even when she's not makign sense... they are words... and you can understand them

My Daughter has the heart of an angel
She's hurt easily, but forgives quickly

My Daughter cries if I cry
Because it makes her sad
Then she wraps her arms around me, pats my back and says "Dont be sad mommy, it's ok."

My Daughter is not violent, "spoiled", vindictive, or a brat
She is not retarded. She is not misdiagnosed.

My Daughter is Autistic.

~~~~~

I did not make Monkey autistic. I could not prevent it. Vaccines may not have caused it. No one knows what did. I dont blame anyone. I'm not angry. I dont want "justice" at the price of however millions of dollars some attorney seeks for other parents of autistic kids.

I love my daughter... with all that I am. She is healthy. She is active. She loves school and her friends. She needs patience and love, just like every single other child on this planet.

Last weekend I was out shopping with my best friend. We walked past a young mom struggling with a little girl, about 3 or 4 years old. The girl was tired, didnt want to hold her mom's hand to cross the parking lot, and eventually parked her rear on the sidewalk. The mom was trying the "good mom" things to get the child to get up and come with her, in her calm voice holding on to the girls hand... wanting to drag her along side but not willing to go to such extremes in public. The child was screaming and making a scene. The mom maintained composure. I smiled at the mom... I wanted to go over and hug her. I wanted to tell her it was going ok, that I could relate to what she was experiencing. I wanted to tell her not be embarassed, and just keep breathing, that she was doing a great job!

I love Monkey! I love her more than anything.

Monkey For Sale (attitude included)

2009-02-03T16:01:00.000-08:00

Monkey and My Love had a rough night. Seems she's missing Her Dad, and that means she can not possible reciprocate any kindness to My Love. It amazes me the way she acts sometimes. I can see it in everything she does. It's as though she thinks she's betraying her dad by letting my love fill that role. Sometimes she allows it, but its like she'll realise what's happening and she'll stop and recoil.

She's 5. Her dad and I split when she was 2. She has seen him exactly twice in a year. I don't get it

Monkey had a hard morning. This means mommy had a hard morning.

It started out typically enough. I turned on her light, as I went to get in the shower, and said "Time to wake up Princess!"

As I was getting ready My Love commented that Monkey is a grump this morning. I reminded him that she is always a grump first thing. We ladies, are not what you call morning people.

I made her lunch, as always, and got mine together while she got her self dressed followed by her customary, "Look at me!" pose in the kitchen.

I told her she was beautiful and to go brush her hair and her teeth....
You would think I told her to go scoop barn mud.

She wrinkled her brow and proceeded to with, "Nooooooo! I already. It's not bedtime. I don't haf to brush my teeeeeeeth!"

*DING DING DING*

ROUND I (in the kitchen)

"Monkey, don't argue. You don't want icky breath all day. Go brush your hair and your teeth."

"No. I NOT! I already brush my hair!", hands on her hips, one foot in front of the other stance.

"We are going to be late. Go BRUSH YOUR TEETH, and brush your hair again."

"NO I NOT!"

*DING DING DING*

ROUND II (in the bathroom)

"Monkey, put your hands down and let me brush your hair."

"I ALREADY! NO! You use your brush, not my Tinker Bell bruuuusssshhhhh!"

"Monkey, stop wining and yelling and let me brush your hair!"

"NO! I ALLLLREAAAADYYY!", hands on top of her dread locked, hand in a light socket, resembling hair. "JUST STOOOPPP!"

Mommy wants to throttle Monkey. Brush lands on floor. Mommy exits bathroom wishing to sell monkey to band of gypsies.

"MOMMY! YOU GET BACK HERE!"

silence

*DING DING DING*

Round III - mommy's bedroom

"Mommy," crying the I'm not getting my way cry "Mommy, Monkey is talking to you! Mommy Look at Monkey's eyes! MOMMY!!!" stomps feet

Mommy continues getting things together, alarm on phone rings signaling time to leave.

"When you stop yelling at me I will listen to you Monkey. You need to stop, NOW, or I'm going to have to spank you."

Mommy exits room heading for kitchen... and coffee!

"MOMMMMYYYYY!"

"I'm leaving Monkey. Are you coming with me or are you going to stay home with the horses today?"

(please keep in mind Monkey is 5... and I would never ever ever ever ever actually leave her at home)

"MOMMY YOU BRUSH MY HAIR!"

Mommy exits kitchen, heads down porch to start truck.

Monkey gets jacket and backpack and runs to the truck, "YOU CANT LEAVE ME! MOMMY I'M SORRY! Mommy... Monkey Loves You!"

yee-gads! Someone, tell me... how did I get myself at 15 in a 5 year old?

A Breath of Fresh Air

2009-02-02T11:27:00.000-08:00

Happy Monday!

I'm in good spirits today.

I'm sure you all know that the Steelers won the Superbowl... I'm not a huge football fan. I "watch" when I must. But when James Harris ran 100 for a touchdown in the 2nd Qtr, I was hooked. It was probably the best game I've seen in a LONG time!

I actually had a great time at the Superbowl shindig yesterday. I really need to learn not to let my own insecurities get the best of me. (that was hard to type) I got to talk to my love on our way home about how I was feeling about going, and he basically came to the same conclusion. I came from a group of friends who got together all the time (seriously... every weekend) and when I met my love we hung out with his friends pretty regularly. But families happen and life happens, and unlike my old friends who still party like their 22, we're all settling down and growing up (in that sense) so just because we don't hang out with them all the time doesn't mean they aren't our friends.

I'm But also because we picked a place and set the date for the wedding!
YES!!! So now I can leave my love alone about it and start the fun stuff. Like colors and flowers and bridesmaids dresses and decorations and stuff... yep yep I'm gettin' 'xcited!

I also got to talk to the former other office goddess this morning. Once again, I took her actions personally when in fact they were not directed toward me at all. Someday I will stop doing that... maybe... I hope

Monkey is getting one of those coughs that makes me sad for her. Her lungs sound awful, and the roommates are due home this week. I'm praying praying praying for her sake that they catch another load or two and can stay on the road for at least another week.

I'm reading this book called "The Shack" by Wm. Paul Young. The other office goddess recommended it about a month ago when I was talking to her about my inherit struggle with church, keeping a faithful heart, and reflecting a "Christian" attitude in a world full of hypocrites and negativity. In the incredible way that God works, I happened upon it at Costco for $9.88 (I LOVE COSTCO BOOKS!) so I picked it up. It's such an incredible testimony. I don't know if it's part because it's local or because I'm a mother, or just because the Lord puts things in our lives to talk to us and sometimes we don't always see them for what they are, but I want to drive out to Wildcat and see if I can find the author's house just so I can give him a hug and thank him for sharing his story. I highly recommend it! If like to read, and you have time for such things, you'll blast right through it.

~cheers!

I'm Outta' Here

2009-01-30T15:26:00.000-08:00

Happy Fried-day!

I have nothing too pertinent to share today. Which means this is going to be long post, doesn't it?

I'm sad that my former co-office goddess has chosen to part with ME in a negative light. Her uncle let her go, because she doesn't want to come in and work, she just wants to write herself checks once a week. Things slowed down to the point that he doesn't need two people in the office anymore... and for somehow that makes me the wretched b**** who deserved to be shunned. Sad yes, I am. So is she.

We're off to find a wedding site tomorrow. We being my mom and I. I'm excited and annoyed. My love... oh how I love thee. Why on earth did I think that he would be any different than any other male when it came to planning our wedding? I dunno either, but for some reason I thought he'd at least help me pick a place. Oh No! I wanted small and intimate, he wanted a real wedding. OK I can do real wedding. Now his input is limited to "If we have it on a Friday people wont come." that's all... nothing more.
PSSSSHHHHH~
ooh ooh ooh I did find a pretty dress though!

I'm not big on football, but beings that I am "maritally required" to root for the Steelers, YAY Steelers! (or whatever.) We are going to a Superbowl party on Sunday, so that should be fun, right? Hang out with a bunch of My Love's friends wives, who thought I was a flash in the pan and are now forced to remember my name because I'm not goin' anywhere. I love these few and far between shindigs... practice the smile that shows in your eyes, be polite, and remember they don't want you to engage in their conversation just pretend that you're interested in what they're saying.

OH, and the last thing I will blurb about today... something I don't think many women say... I love my bathroom scale! I bought one last weekend, and while I'm sure it was just adjusting or whatever those things do... the past 3 days it has consistently showed the same weight, which is 4 pounds less than it said the three days before that! So, Yay for little insignificant things that keep the happy bubble inflated!

Have a joyous weekend!

~cheers

Oy Vey!

2009-01-23T12:06:00.001-08:00

What a week.

The roommates came home on Sunday.
My great uncle died on Monday.
A very incredible extended friend died on Tuesday.
I found out about Monday's death on Wednesday. The funeral is next Monday.
Boss Man fired the other office goddess on Thursday.
Sing with me: "It's Friday... I'm in love"

(I'm in a weird space today. Please don't hold anything I write against me.)

I messed around on HR Block this morning to see what kind of check I could expect... turns out I owe the state more than the fed is giving me back. Please keep in mind that I already paid the state as much as I paid the fed. Figure that one out. Yes, the same state that wont do anything to make Her Dad pay me a friggin dime in child support, but gives his lazy ass food stamps because he wont get a job! Basically I get to work my butt off to be responsible and pay my bills, and when I make more than they think a family of 2 should make I get to give them money to hand out to people who aren't even citizens or who choose not to work to support themselves, let alone their kids.

(ok off that soap box.)

I did finally buy wrecking balm, it's this tattoo fading system that seems to have a very good reputation. I'm a pretty skeptical person when it comes to advertising, but I've heard from people that I actually know who have experience with it so it came highly recommended. After going in for a consultation for laser tattoo removal, I decided that $250 is worth giving a shot. I have better things to spend 5 grand on, even though having two youthful indiscretions removed is most certainly high on my to do list before the wedding.

(note to those who may not understand tattoos: Permanent doesn't mean much when you're 18-19 years old.)

I am once again reminded that I truly am the girl most people love to hate. It seems, as a rule, people do not generally like me. Maybe it's my tattoos, Maybe it's my face, in some cases I know it's a false reputation superseding me. Maybe it's something that I am totally not conscious of. Whatever it is, it seems to be much easier for people who have never spent any real amount of time with me, to hate me first.

On a better note: tomorrow I am going with my mom and sister to try on dresses. no we haven't set a date. no we dont have a venue picked out. no it's not sounding like its even going to happen in 2009. but I'm still excited to go try on pretty white dresses!

May next week fare better than this has.

~cheers!

Co-Habitating Has Lost It's Charm

2009-01-20T10:00:00.000-08:00

I have an unwelcome guest staying with me. It announced it's impending visit last Tuesday, and my efforts to dissuade it proved futile. I have no idea how long it will be here, I'm trying to make it as uncomfortable as possible with the hopes that it will decide to go bother someone else... far far away from me.

Yes, the guest I speak of is a cold. My head feels like a balloon, my throat is parched to no avail, and I have this tremendous knot in the middle of my back that no length of massage or stretching has been able to relieve. I would LOVE to call in to work and stay in bed for a whole day, but The Crazy Horse Lady decided to come home after a week instead of staying out on the road. Needless to say, sitting at my desk sipping tea and filling tissue beats laying in bed inhaling her fumes while she curses Obama and talks about the impending doom of the world, hands down!

Between her and my going-to-be-father-in-law, I got so incredibly burned out on politics during the election that I have not given one aota of thought to the outcome. I'm glad Obama won. I thought Sarah Palin was a kick in the pants, but in hindsight I think the right person won. Hopefully he has what it takes to turn the country around. Maybe he can get away from the bickering of two sides and take the side of ALL of the American people who are just trying to live their lives, raise their kids, and not step on anyone else's toes.
(I'm going to leave it at that.)

I am so over roommates. A couple of years ago, I loved living with people. It was like always having company and I thought it was fun. Even though my last roommates pulled a Jekyll and Hyde on us, I didn't understand how people could grow to hate having friends around all the time. Now, I absolutely can not wait to buy a house. We are pretty close actually, should get our pre-approval this week!
(hoping. praying. lots of praying.)

OK. sorry to cut this off abruptly. perhaps it is complete, perhaps my brain has officially ceased function. I don't even remember what I was thinking about, suddenly I've been inundated with inauguration and I want to go to sleep...

~cheers

To Blog or Not To Blog... Is that a question?

2009-01-14T11:29:00.000-08:00

I apologise. Apparently blog-block is a handicap. Almost daily I log in to blogger, click new post, and type a bunch of randomness. As, I'm sure, you've come to expect. (if you're still reading )

Have you ever been bored with yourself?

Seriously. I have gone to preview, read half of my post and deleted them. If I can't read my own post, why would anyone else. However, as annoying as my randomness can be, it's not even been interesting to me lately.

All I can think about is buying a house and planning a wedding. Knowing that both are major life events, each really does require two people, and alot of phone calls. I hate making phone calls, but I have a desk job which allows for things such as blogging, and emails, and copying 25 documents to fax over to a lender and...
(see... not interesting blog material)

But then I was reminded, by myself (go figure), that this blog is "Conversations With Myself". This is a place for my randomness, uncensored, raw (as it can be), and anonymous as I want. Of course I love comments, and I love that a handful of people may see that I've posted something and stop by to see what is coercing through my brain on any given day. But my stage fright has apparently gone into overdrive and I am criticising myself for my thoughts shared on my blog.

(did you follow that?)

I am going to post this post. Whether it's crappy or not. Whether it annoys me, and probably you, my lovely readers. Because I guess a lame post that is honest is better than no post at all. Especially when my brain is overflowing, with I don't even know what, and if I don't get it out somewhere I'm likely to start having 2 way conversations out loud with myself. Which could potentially have some serious consequences, especially at work.

So, I guess what I'm saying is, thank you for reading. I hope you enjoy the little bits of my world that I get out here. I'm sorry I have stage fright, I'm going to work on that.

~cheers!

Standing In Line pt.2

2009-01-08T14:30:00.000-08:00

I've been engaged for exactly 13 days...I should be still be daydreaming about the possibilities of what lies ahead. But somewhere, someone in "ideal wedding land" decided it takes at least a year to plan a wedding. So, according to "them", I'm already 4-6 months behind. Good Grief! Isn't this supposed to be an exciting time? Who decided weddings needed to be stressful?

Going to the Bridal Show, we are. In two weeks.

(for clarification "We" means mom, sister and I. it would take My Love all of 5 seconds to get bored by the lack of firearms and truck accessories and he would spend the rest of the day trying to rush through the crowd.)

The Bridal Show...I went with my sister 5 years ago. I was 7 months pregnant. It was a long day. and I felt a little like Hester Prynne. I never really expected to attend for my own planning. I guess I thought that if and when I ever got married it would be in a city hall-esque fashion, or in a spur-of-the-moment adventurous move that would require a defensive explanation, lots of tears, and possibly years of "proving it" to my parents. But no... I even surprise myself at times. ... ... ...

(ok, you cant see what I wrote now because of the fabulous backspace key, but I got all mushy and sappy about my love and how he's perfect and wonderful and we have my parents blessing. but I erased it because I didn't want you to yawn or gag... you're quite welcome)

I'm excited about getting married, but I'm not one of those girls who has planned out their wedding, in it's entirety, since I was 4.

(a fact that really surprised My Love.)

I was more interested in making mud-pies, building forts, and riding my bike. I know I don't want a big-to-do. I'm pretty simple. I like fabulous things, but I like to feel special and pretty and occasionally pampered. But I do not require these things. To me, a wedding is more of a celebration for everyone invited. I don't want to hurt any one's feelings, or leave anyone out... but sheesh! Weddings are friggin' EXPENSIVE! Like, it's ridiculous. I would rather apply $10,000+ to the mortgage we're about to acquire, drive to Tahoe, take a Polaroid and mail everyone a copy. The getting married part is what really matters to me.

My love has been married once before. It was a kind of shotgun wedding, with his dad on the trigger. (I'll just leave it at that.) He didn't have any say in anything, there were 30 people including the wedding party, and his ex-wife forbid him from inviting his best friend so he didn't even know his best man... she basically assigned him one. So he, obviously, wants to "do it right" this time. He wants a wedding party, a first dance (though has not thoughts as to which song we might dance to) and traditional pictures (which may or may not nix his current best man because she's a woman. his idea, but he doesn't want to hurt her feelings... go figure.) but he hasn't offered much else.

I keep saying, small. He keeps saying, "We can have a wedding you know." What does that mean anyway? Either way, at the end of that day, we will be man and wife. Which is the whole point of the fiasco anyway so why cant we keep it simple?

My parents will be paying for my wedding. Not all of my wedding. We have not even discussed budget yet. I have a ballpark of what my sister's fairytale wedding cost, and would like to steer far away from that number... however this is growing and growing and my hope of a simple dress and bare feet in the grass (or sand.) is slowly becoming bridesmaids and jr. bridesmaids and groomsmen and ring bearers and rodeo friends and people I don't actually know other than the familiar names from my mother's inherited Christmas card list. Which is exactly what I didn't want... but it's not just my wedding.

(I'm smiling as I write this, by the way. I realise tone can be misinterpreted in writing.)

~cheers!

Standing In Line pt.1

2009-01-07T12:03:00.000-08:00

Close your eyes and imagine, with me...

(ok, don't really close your eyes unless you have transperant eyelids. you wont be able to read where you're going)

I'm next in line, on top of the Stratosphere, waiting to go on that ride that shoots you out over the edge. I'm excited, my heart is pounding, I have crazy butterflies in my tummy, and I'm just a little bit scared. What if it breaks down, and I'm left hovering over the edge of the building for hours?! What if there's a huge earthquake and the tower colapses?! What if the car I'm in goes flying off the tracks and flings me out over Las Vegas Blvd?! What if I already paid $15 for my ticket and stood in line for half an hour... I'm getting on that ride!

Overwhelmed, I am.
Trying to get My Love to call the realtor, is apparently like pulling teeth from anyone but Monkey's mouth.

(she discovered the Tooth-Fairy and has since become obsessed with wiggly teeth.)

My Love procrastinates, more than anyone I know. He can concoct the best laid plans one ever, and they remain that... plans. He has the best intentions, truly, but lacks the follow through.

(except on Christmas. but that was sporadic. in my experience, things generally work best when they are not planned.)

We are finding places that would be absolutely perfect for us. We know we will pre-qualify. So all he really has to do is make contact with two people, the realtor and the broker (I have to call my credit union guy). We decided once we are officially pre-approved from 2 sources, we can start actually visiting places we are interested in and make an offer. The process can take a couple of months (I'm told.)

I, mostly, just want assurance that we have a place. Our own home, that we can decorate however we want. Where we can play music when we want to and stomp on the floow should we choose, because no one lives below us to complain about the noise. Where I can put on a load of laundry and clean the kitchen at 3:00 in the morning, without disturbing anyone else, if I can't sleep. And having a bedroom door... that would be, just about, the best thing in the whole world. I want to know, that nothing on this earth is gong to stop us from moving. I am so over the Swamp Ranch and the sinking house and having roommates who think I'm Cinderella.

We are planning to move in June. So in his mind, we have until June. NO!! We have to get the ball rolling, like now. That way come June, amidst rodeo, camping, birthdays and school ending, we can move. and focus solely on finalizing wedding plans...

... wedding plans...

Fiance is a Funny Word

2008-12-30T11:28:00.000-08:00

Lots to share. I am really scatterbrained today. More so than usual. I wish I had the mental capacity to write something detailed and witty or annoying, about the past week, but alas, I do not.... many apologies!

The kids have been staying with us (read: devouring everything in the kitchen) for the past week and a half. It's been quite entertaining, especially with all of the snow. (which is rapidly melting.)

The girls and I baked a Pumpkin pie and a Cherry pie for Christmas, did I tell you that already? Both of which were devoured! (YAY!) This is the first year I've made pies, usually I bring the rolls (it's traditionally safer that way) but everyone loved the pies and they have officially become my assignment. I was a little bit sad because no one ate my mom's apple or pecan pies. Except me of course, I heart Pecan Pie and I like that my mom makes one even if I'm the only one who eats it!

Christmas night... my love PROPOSED!
He went to The Shane Co, Christmas eve, and picked up the ring that we had previously decided was not going to be purchased, in favor of paying off the truck and saving for a down payment.
He spent the entirety of Christmas day trying to ask my dad. Between myself, my uncles, a fried turkey, and the mass of children playing in the snow, the opportunity did not present itself until I was getting the last of the boxes to take home.
(seriously. packing up Christmas gifts for 6 people is comparable to moving.)
Dad said, "You seem like a great guy. We would love to welcome you to the family."
(awww! I teared up when he told me that my father said that. When my bro-in-law asked to marry my sis dad said "I guess. You'll have to ask her.")
I'm engaged. I have a Fiance ... fee-on-say ... hmmm
(sounds so. formal.)

anywhoo... (I don't really know what else to say about this at this juncture.)

Monkey lost one of her front teeth yesterday. She looks like a pirate and has a very adorable lisp going. When she lost her bottom two teeth, she flushed them both down the toilet! She threw this tooth in the garbage and the girls were kind enough to fish it out then call me and tell me the news. When I left for work this morning there was another, mysterious, silver dollar in the baggie on the counter.

She left the tooth fairy a note under her chalk board saying: Tooth Fairy, my tooth is on the counter. that way you wont wake up the girls. love, pirate princess monkey hannah montana. (this is her new given name by the way.)

The Crazy Horse Lady is due home today, after a month on the road. I'm not much looking forward to her return and I pray that it will be short. Any more than a week, I may start looking for temporary housing in the barn...

There is my short recap. Wedding plans and House hunting adventures are sure to trickle through in many upcoming posts. and I promise (I hope) the pin-wheel effect of my brain will slow and I will come up with something note-worthy to post about.

~cheers!

Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas!

2008-12-24T06:00:00.000-08:00

Good Morning (or afternoon, or evening) Happy Christmas Eve (or Merry Christmas or day after)!

Cheers and stuff! I hope you're staying warm and feeling loved and blessed, and that you're spending the holiday with the people (or person) that means the most to you.

If you happen to be stuck in an airport, I still hope that someone who rocks your world is there with you and that you have made a potentially uncomfortable situation into an unforgettable adventure, filled with laughter that might, by now, be bordering on delirium. Because sometimes, all you can do is laugh and make the best of a crappy situation, right!

(smile and nod, if just for the sake of not arguing.)
(see. all better.) :o)

A few weeks ago I posted about getting healthy and making a commitment to myself to get my butt back into shape... well... yeah, I was fully committed for a week! (YAY-BOOOO) and not to blame the weather (or the incredibly irresistible Christmas goodies that have taken over an entire counter in my kitchen) I haven't been to the gym in 2 weeks! I do believe I have failed in my goal of not gaining a single pound during the holidays. So today, I walk. I am going to brave the feet of snow out there and get out of the office for at least half an hour and get some friggin' exercise!

Some observations from the past couple of days:

Teen-aged boys are sneaky, manipulative, selfish, and yet incredibly willing and handy, thus essential (perhaps we can lock him in a cage and only let him out to bathe and work)

Pre-Teen girls tattle, endlessly, for anything that they think is a punishable offence. (especially when the offender is a teen-aged boy, whom they think is cute or to whom they are related)

Kindergartners idolise teenagers/preteens, mimic their every move/word, and somehow think that when teens are around Mommy is not in charge.

When teen-aged boys, who don't have to follow rules because they know everything, walk across frozen ponds (followed by kindergartners) because they are invincible and think nothing bad can happen to them... Mom gets her truck detailed!

Merry Christmas! Feliz Navidad! Fröhliche Weihnachten! Nollaig Shona!

Finding Balance Between Man and Woman "Things"

2008-12-23T09:41:00.000-08:00

"I Only Have To Cook and Clean?! SWEET!" was the original title...

But I my Mother, who won't read this anyway, would be deeply offended if I published that. She raised my sister and I to be very self-sufficent. "A girl can do anything a boy can do! Just buck-up and get it done." --- Thus, a short line of worthless "men" have streamed through her dining room, most of whom did not even know where the engine oil goes or how to start a lawn mower! (but show them an XBox or Playstation and they could be "busy" for days)

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Obviously, I made it in to work today. My Love had to work so I had to drive myself this morning. I've been chauffeured for the past 3 days because his truck = BIG FORD, my truck = Girl Toyo, and well, I like it when he goes out of his way to take me where I need to go. It makes me feel loved and a little girly, which is nice sometimes.

Driving in was actually pretty fun! My girl truck will go anywhere and I have a renewed faith in myself, the Lord, and my ability to get around no matter what. I don't need no stinking man! ...

(but I love him and I will keep him always)

I like knowing that I can take care of my self. I can change a tire, fix a leaky pipe, hang a shelf, paint a room, and defend myself.

(there's more but I dont want to brag.) <--- = sarcasm, for those who missed it
(smile!)

But finding a Man who,

(1) works for a living
(2) takes care of "man things" at home
and
(3) appreciates my:
desire to learn "man things"
enthusiasm about getting my hands dirty
and doesnt mind that I'll throw down and defend him if I think I need to.

has given me a new appreciation for being a woman.

I hate it when guys treat women like they're weaker because they're women, then expect them to take care of everything while they play XBox or watch football or NASCAR. HELLO! Maybe I want to watch football and NASCAR!

(or go shopping for something besides groceries)

But letting a man act like a man, thus assuming the role of a woman (without becoming prissy and helpless), is not a bad thing. Finding that balance is ... refreshing!

Sometimes, even un-princessy girls like to know there is a big strong man who can (and will happily) take care of things that have traditionally been "Man Things". You know what I'm talking about... changing the oil in your girl truck, fixing broken things around the house, roping unruly horses (then getting drug like a water skier up the gravel driveway when said horses take off like a boat), getting up at 3 in the morning to get you a bottle of water because you woke up thirsty, driving you to work, then out to lunch, when there is 3 feet of snow on the ground... you know, "Man Things".

A man who is willing to do these "Man Things" deserves to have a respectably clean home, his feet and back rubbed, a home cooked meal (at least 4 nights a week), his lunch made in the morning (even if it's left overs), and clean folded laundry... you know, "Woman Things".

A few days a week I help load and unload 40 bales of hay, then get in the back of the truck and throw 4 bales of hay in the field; at least once a week he takes me out to dinner, occasionally he'll mate his own socks and fold the towels, or vaccume or something.

He takes care of me, I take care of him. It's all about balance.

~cheers!

Let It Snow, Let It Snow, Let It Snow!

2008-12-22T10:17:00.000-08:00

We are actually experiencing winter! I don't recall a time in my life that it has snowed this much. It's been going pretty strong for an entire week, and it looks like we may get a white Christmas this year!

The only winter foot wear that I have are my boarding boots, which just aren't practical for everyday wandering in the snow so of course I had to get snow boots!

(any excuse to buy new shoes!) Cute, practical, and they should last many years since we don't get winters like this... ever!

Some people are not as excited about this weather as I, but that's OK. I'm just ecstatic, the kids are having a blast, and boss man is delighted that my love got me to work today...I wasn't about to attempt to drive through the 5 foot snow bank that is at the top of our driveway. Love those snowplows! If I get home before it's dark I'll take pictures, it's kind of unbelievable to those of us who are accustomed to more rain than snow.

We got Mr Man moved out this weekend, and the girls came to stay for the week. The crazy horse lady is due back next weekend so I'm sure they'll be heading home then. I can't blame them, the house gets as smokey as a tavern when she's home. I smoked until just before I moved to the swamp ranch, so I didn't think her smoking would bother me. But even the one time I lived in a house that we actually smoked in, it was not this bad. The woman CHAIN smokes, and doesn't open windows or turn on fans or do anything at all to circulate the air and let us all breathe. Since I initially said it shouldn't be an issue, I cant really protest it now. I understand that she is on the road alot, and when she is home she wants to be comfortable. But she could be just a little bit conscious of the fact that other people live there, and we want to be comfortable when she is home too. (maybe?! is that too much to ask?)

But for now, there is a foot of snow on the ground, the horses seem to be holding up, the power is staying on (so far), and the highway is drivable if you can get out of your driveway... I hope winter sticks around for a while. This is kind of fun!

An Unexpected Evening of Fun

2008-12-19T08:00:00.000-08:00

I did it. I didn't want to. I prayed the roads would freeze and become undrivabe. I contemplated faking Monkey's illness. But finally, I went to the company Christmas Dinner.

I feel fortunate that I work for a man who is not so liberal that he has nixed Christmas for Holiday. I think Christmas is important to remember... not X-Mas mind you, but CHRISTmas. There is a reason for the season, and it's not just to get really SWEET prestents!

(not that I'm complaining about presents... moving on.)

We got to the restraunt at just the right time, not late, after the big group, and not last. My 'assistant' saved us seats across from Boss Man's daughter and her husband.

(background: my assistant is Boss Man's neice, Boss Man's daughter's BFF and used to be my 'boss'. She hired me so she could eventually cut back to part time and just help me with the maddness)

Apparently, before the hostess opened the banquet room Boss Man, with his "friends" ( I use this term as loosly as possible here), and the "workers" (that's what he calls us. "The Workers". He doesn't think of it as degrading at all) were all lining up in the hall and Boss Man actually said "All you workers go on THAT side." Upon entering the room, he seated all of his "friends" on the other side, then sat with his back to his "workers" most of the evening... nice huh!

This year, however, he did put wine out on the tables for everyone to enjoy. Granted, it was cheap, warm, undrinkable (in my humble opinion), chardonay that he won in a golf tournament last summer, but from the man who wouldnt pay for his daughter's wedding if she had alcohol, this was a big generous gesture.

Of course, one of the guys drank a bottle and a half of said undrinkable wine, in the first half hour, then started buying shots of Patron for Boss Man's daughter and my assistant's Hubs. That made for a very entertaining evening... mildly uncomfortable at moments, but definitely entertaning.

All in all, I'm glad we went. My Love has a much better idea of who I work for and with, and everyone agreed this was the most fun we'd had at a company function... porobably ever. (at least everyone in our section.)

~cheers!

Baby, It's Cold Outside!

2008-12-18T09:30:00.000-08:00

Earlier this week I was totally unprepared.
It's been a few years since we had a good winter.
and by good I mean "white".

Yesterday, my parents bought studded tires for my truck. I have to pay them back (eventually), but I am a little blown away by their generosity. Especially given that it's Christmas time and money is tight for everyone.

I'm glad it's not icy (yet.)
This can stick around for a couple of weeks.
I don't mind.

~cheers

"But It's a Beautiful Day"

2008-12-16T11:05:00.001-08:00

That's what Monkey said when I told her she absolutely could not wear a skirt and flip flops to play in the snow.

It is stinkin' COLD here!
*************************************************************************************We had quite the weekend...

Saturday: Monkey and I finished our Christmas shopping, which included getting her ears pierced. All year she's been waiting to ask Santa to get her ears pierced, then she decided to tell him she wanted Hanna Montana Dress Up Clothes, instead.... YIKES! I hate Hanna Montana, but Santa hasn't let her down yet... and that is totally within Santa's budget this year. So, Mommy sprung for earrings a week early and Santa can battle it out with Target later in the week.

*****Sunday we woke to dry snow.*****
Dry snow is nice. Usually the snow here is very wet and, while that makes easy snow balls, it soaks through everything and makes for very cold play.
*****
We spent $200.00 on groceries and $25.00 on movie rentals, for the power to go out for 4 hours, just moments after I got the food put in the fridge.
*****
Of course I used up almost all of my candles when the crazy horse lady was home, because she still smokes in the house and it reeeeeeeeks so I burn candles to make it just a little more tolerable. And the wood stove was covered in Cd's and DVDs and what have you, because I don't need a wood stove... I have a perfectly functional furnace! So we had 2 candles going, which Monkey kept blowing out, and the ancient oil lamp that needs a new wick (but we made it work.)
*****
The hose was frozen, because up to this point winter was showing no sign of making an appearance this year.
*****
Along with the frozen hose, was a frozen spicket, an empty torch, and two empty horse toffs. (JOY!)
*****
Last year, we were pretty prepared for winter. It came upon us gradually and stayed a little too long. (we had snow in May, and the fields flooded on spring break so we went kayaking in the pasture.) We drained the hoses every night, kept the spicket covered with hay, and the wood stove was not covered with stuff because the furnace was broken for 2 months.
*****
anyway...
*****
The power decided to come back on, about 5 seconds after I got a fire going in the wood stove (which took half an hour to unclutter.)
*****
I was pleased to locate a 2nd oil lamp, stashed in the cupboard in the laundry closet. A cupboard that I don't actually recall seeing until it was dark and cold and I was on a mission to find more candles, flash lights, batteries, and lamp oil.
I also found a brand new torch in, what next week will be Mr Man's room
*****
I did get my love to sit down and play cards instead of watching TV, even after the power came back on.
Ultimately, the evening turned out pretty nice. Monkey got to watch Kung Fu Panda (twice), a well planned salmon dinner was not spoiled due to our adventure with out power, I discovered a few new and previously unexplored nooks and crannies in the sinking house, and all of the horses remain well hydrated!
*****
This may be my only post this week... it's supposed to snow somethin' fierce tomorrow and I may not make it out the driveway again.
*****
Stay Warm wherever you are!

cheers :o)
*************************************************************************************
(* these are snowflakes or ice crystals for the purpose of this post. just go with it.)

Plotting Evil Things Against Children is More Fun Than I Thought

2008-12-12T08:00:00.000-08:00

My Love's children are some of the best behaved kids I've ever met. (truly.) You can take them anywhere and they are age appropriately mature and respectful towards people whom they are not related to. Having said that...

So seriously, my going to be step-son is 13 years younger than I am.

He thinks he knows everything, and what he doesn't know he thinks he doesn't need to know. The other day we were all watching TV and something was mentioned about a prosthetic hand and my love asked him if he knew what a prosthetic was and he said, "Don't need to."

Most days I simultaneously heart him, and want to beat him in the head with the muck shovel.

The little turd memorised the combo to the gun safe. The gun safe that we bought specifically to keep his grubby little hands off the guns. (I keep typing fun instead of gun... hehehe) See, he gets bored like most ADOS people and starts to snoop around and getting into stuff. The kid is always in trouble, mostly because he has ZERO respect for other people's things and he has a really crappy-I'm too cool for this-what are you gonna do about it-attitude.

(again with the shovel beating)

He thinks school is pointless, because he doesn't get it so he spends his days being "popular" and watching flies rather than asking for help and doing his school work. He is living with this illusion that life is grand and he can skate through it and will still make enough money to shop at Hollister, live in a huge house, drive a brand new car..... you know, all those illusions that 14 year olds have.

I'm sad to say, his dad rides him about the most menial things. So it really does seem like he cant do anything right. So when he does something really stupid, like getting into the gun (I did it again!) safe, or failing all of his classes, or making a bow and shooting a plastic arrow into the sheet rock in the garage or going through the DVDs in my room as though they were his own... the list of stupid things goes on and on and on... there is no differentiating between big things and him forgetting to take out the trash.

Since we are planning to get a house in June anyway, we have decided to move him in with us for the rest of the school year, starting after Christmas break. The school he goes to now is a pretty typical, over populated, suburban middle school. The new school is K-8 and has one classroom of 8th graders... tee hee... mwahahaha... and I'm not nearly as lax as he thinks I am on the weekends. Yes, this plan is sneaky and probably evil, but it's also for his own good!

It kinda sucks...I really want to have his back and make my love stop riding him so hard, but inevitably every single time I try to back him up he's lied or manipulated or just plain effed up and I look the fool. Fortunately my love knows all his tricks... I'm just discovering that I truly can not trust him and I don't like learning that about people. Especially people (kids or adults) that I have defended and tried to put my faith in.

Oh Crap! I forgot to check the mail

2008-12-11T13:00:00.000-08:00

There is something very appropriate about SweetTarts being my favorite non-candy bar candy.

Snickers are my favorite candy bar.

My boss is a crazy man. He is very generous and funny most of the time. Perhaps crazy is not fair, we have similar personalities and I most certainly am not crazy.
(What?! I'm not...)
For some reason, when he is getting along with his wife he is mean to me. They fight a lot, today they are not fighting.

My love is letting me down more and more lately. It's kind of bumming me out. Last night he explained what's going on... "I got you hooked, now I can be my real self." While he was smiling when he said it, so NOT funny. Mostly because it's true. But the same goes for me I guess.

Little personality quirks come out once you live with someone. It's not always pretty, but we still love each other completely.

I'm not ready for Christmas.

I still don't know what to get my love, and for the first time that I'm aware of, I'm just not feelin' the Christmas spirit this year. Usually I've got tons of ideas and I'm rarin' to go shop and buy tons of well thought out gifts for everyone. This year I'm more like, tell me what you want and I'll go get it and put it in a pretty bag and call it good.
I'm not scroogin', I'm just not... Merry...

I've heard that life is what's happening while you're waiting for it to begin. This is very enlightening and all, but really I've been waiting to get married and settle down since I was in like 4th grade. I like my life, but I really want to buy a house and have my family now. Settled... Secure... you know, little things.

I'm very much stuck in the middle... but I don't know what I'm in the middle of. "Clowns to the left of me, Jokers to the right, here I am... stuck in the middle with you."

Why is it significantly easier for people to talk about all the bad things rather than the good things? There is definitely a stigma attached to talking about all of the wonderful blessings we have in our lives... it feels like bragging and no one wants to hear it.

The other night we talked about the trick of literature in eliminating the unessential, so that we are given a concentrated dose of life. I said almost indignantly, “It’s a deception and the cause of much disappointment. One reads books and expects life to be just as full of interest and intensity.And, of course, it isn’t so. There are many dull moments in between,and they, too, are natural. You, in your writing, have played the same trick. I expected all our talks to be feverish, portentous. I expected you always drunk, and always delirious. Then when we lived together for a few days, we fell into a profound, quiet, natural rhythm.” – pp 170 ~ Henry and June by Anais Nin

Anais Nin Rocks! or did rock, she's deceased, but her writing lives, therefore she continues to rock.

Anne Rice, John Grisham and Danielle Steel, also rock!

Spike Lee does not rock... in fact I think he pretty much does exactly the opposite of rocking.
Same goes for the Governor of Illinois who tried to auction off Obama's Senatorial Seat. Mister Blagojevich you are the epitome of what is wrong with our country's political process. I hope you spend the rest of your life in a maximum security prison for the criminally insane. (no country club for you!)

Still enjoying the SweetTarts.

Yesterday, I ran 3 miles in 30 minutes on the elliptical.

Then I unloaded and stacked 40 bales of hay ~ with a hole in my hand (more on this), fed the horses, then made dinner and got all the laundry folded!
Yesterday was a good day.

This whole ring thing is bugging me more than I realised. I don't know why he took me ring shopping in the first place... I mean I do know, and his intentions were good, but the time is obviously not right and he needs to not buy it right now. So naturally I'm a little put off. Maybe I'm wrong but I'm disappointed, I know what his money picture looks like and if it meant that much to him... like if he really wanted to do it, he could.

eh... whatever... que sera sera, right?!

I have a dime sized hole in my hand, accompanying an eraser sized blister on my thumb. See, yesterday after I kicked ass at the gym I went to get my Christmas stuff out of storage and when I got there I realised the my love never checked the oil in my truck, which likely explained the horrible sound the engine was making. So after I loaded up all my Christmas boxes I popped the hood and pulled out the dip-stick (the one for the oil, not my soon to be step-son) and sure enough... it was EMPTY!!!! I had ZERO oil in the 1 year old engine of my 15 year old pickup! So I, genius that I am, tried in vain to get the oil cap off the engine so I could add a quart - which was all that I had in the truck because when you have a man as handy as mine it becomes no longer your job to make sure the truck has oil in it. But the engine was still too hot, so the cap was suctioned on and wouldn't move. So I'm standing on the brush guard, in my gym clothes, bent over under the hood, grunting and gripping and trying as hard as I can to get the damn thing to come loose, and instead I got a HUGE blister on my hand. A blister that eventually tore open and started weeping and stinging because the engine compartment (or actually, the entire truck) needs a serious bath in degreaser. So, finally feeling defeated (which I hate) I went to the storage place office and shamefully asked if a man was available to assist me. Which got me one of those sarcastic-you're one of those princessey girls who cant take care of herself-looks. But when I explained what happened and showed her the weeping blister she immediately wiped the sarcastic-you're one of those princessey girls who cant take care of herself-look off her face, and sent her assistant out to help me. He, of course, got the cap off like he was opening a plastic jar of peanut butter... (of course he did!)

I've decided that when making up words, like princessey, it's ok to not worry about spelling.

Running out of SweetTarts

oooh! Peppermint Tea

Cheers!

Please Hold for the Next Available Annoying Salesperson

2008-12-11T09:30:00.000-08:00

Really, whomever decided to enlist automated telemarketers to make initial contact should be honored... and smacked!

Now I get to hang up on an annoying recording rather than feeling just a little bit guilty for hanging up some poor college freshman who sounds super perky and is obviously just trying to make some money to feed herself.

I rank telemarketing as one of the top jobs that slowly erode your self esteem.

When I left her dad, his new girlfriend (who overlapped me; which is a whole other blog... or series of blogs, possibly to come at another time when I'm feeling really crappy about life) was a telemarketer/artist. She had one of those super bubbly voices and could probably sell snow to Eskimos. She, by no means, made "money" but she was able to pay her rent, when she went to work.

I don't really understand people who complain about being broke then don't go to work everyday. And when said people get their paychecks, they don't want to feel broke so they don't pay their bills... or they pay a small portion of their bills so they still have money for really important things like going to the bar and playing poker and buying super fancy art supplies only to drop out of art school because they're broke and need to get a "better job". (ahem!)

anywhoo... where was I? Oh yes, the automated telemarketers.

If you're going to ring my phone - my office line that is, they rarely call my cell Thank Goodness! - at least have the courtesy to have a person available to say what you're calling about. If you don't have enough staff available to dial a phone number to waste 15 seconds of my blog time, don't have a friggin' computer call me and politely ask me to hold for the next available representative. Perhaps if I knew what they were representing I would be interested (not likely. just play along.) but I don't wait on hold long enough for my love to answer call waiting... why the heck would I wait on hold just to hang up on a person?... HELLO! Does that make any sense to you?

I guess what I'm really saying is, if you have a computer call me because you know I'm going to hang up on a person... why bother placing the call in the first place?

Cheers!

Screw being rich, I'm glad I'm not famous

2008-12-04T08:28:00.000-08:00

This has been somewhat of a long week. For no particular reason, really. Work is slow, so I'm spending more time on the internet. This is both good and bad. I'm learning new and exciting things, like for instance did you know that Amy Winehouse is actually a singer?? Like a real singer... she had a career before she became a walking tabloid cover. I never knew this, but now that I've been educated I realise why she reminds me so much of Courtney Love.

I used to LOVE Hole. But Courtney really irked me off when I paid $50 to see Hole back in 1998 when they were on tour with Marilyn Manson. I didn't want to see Marilyn Manson (ewwwwww), but my ex did. and he didn't want to see Hole, but I did. so it all worked out. until Courtney threw a tantrum because apparently the crowd didn't meet her standards and she walked off stage.... yeah, that kind of ruined my fan-ness. I still rock Celebrity Skin on those especially ornery days when I need to drive fast and escape back to 17. But for the most part I've boycotted her.

It's really sad, actually. To watch someones life fall apart then clean up then fall apart. (pause. think of Britney. love her or loathe her, your heart has to go out to that girl.) I mean they are actually people, and their mistakes are put out there in the spotlight for all to see and remember. I cant imagine why anyone would want to be famous, and stay famous, if they didn't have it together (at least on the surface.)

I'm not saying my own life isn't a roller coaster. Seriously... to everything (turn turn turn) there is a season (turn turn turn)... and something new will be brewing or falling apart. But I (for the most part) have a say in who knows about what is going on with me. If things got really really bad, I could always move to another town and start over and no one would know the difference.

Celebrities don't get to start over. They just have to try to prove themselves all over again, and they have more people betting against them, reporting on their every blunder, their every slip... Have you ever tried to pick yourself back up? Mistakes happen, its easy to backslide... but you need people around you to support you and let you know that it's OK and you just have to keep going forward. The media seems to make it their business to keep these people down. To shine a spotlight on every minuscule thing that might possibly be construed as a slip up. Give them a chance people... it's not like your life is perfect either! But then, what would we have to talk about? The impending doom of the country... Ooooh! look, Angelina is pregnant....again....

moving on.

I made it to the gym last night. I couldn't really feel my quads when I left, but I definitely felt invigorated! I just wish there was a gym close to home so I could go every day. As it is I can really only get out there once a week when I go work for my dad. But hey, once a week is better than not going at all... right? (right!)

I also stepped on the scale in the locker room... scales aren't my friend... but I was prepared for the worst and it was not quite as bad as I expected. I now have my starting point and a clearer idea of where I'd like to be in 2 months. And since I don't have a scale at home, I now know where I can check my progress every week.

Now... I'm off to blog land to find more interesting things to babble about... ... ...

Yeah, not so much. There is nothing new or interesting going on in the world today. Perhaps that in itself is new and interesting. or. I'm just not amused with the headlines today... that's probably it.

I did, however, figure out how to make my iTunes songs into MP3's so I can create ring tones! FREE RING TONES!!! YAY! Have I mentioned that it's the little things that thrill me?

Happy Thursday! :o)

Well That Wont Do At ALL!

2008-12-02T12:12:00.000-08:00

Howdy!

So I don't post as often as I originally planned, but I'll work on that... perhaps. I've been cyber-stalking many other blogs for inspiration whilst taking special care not to be a blog stealer... there is definitely some entertaining stuff out there!

The past year and a half has been one of continual change for me. Change for the better, which is still stressful, just much more enjoyable.

I quit smoking (YAY!) I got a new job, which I basically enjoy, that actually supports me and Monkey without forcing us to live on Mac and Cheese and Ramen. I met a new man, a real man, a man's man, and subsequently fell in love (awwwww).

I moved just far enough out of the city to be away from everything, yet close enough to see my family and commute to work.

I became a dog owner,
a horse owner,

a "going to be step-mom",
and got unofficially engaged (or pretend married as we affectionately call it).

I went to my first Rodeo.

I learned what real friendship is and more importantly what it is NOT; in this lesson I also learned that I truly am blessed with an amazing family and I have taken that for granted for most of my life.... oh yeah, and a delightful patch of cellulite has taken up residence in that lovely area just below my ASS!

Big Changes!

Seriously, just before tanning season last spring I was drying off getting ready to lather my skin with coco butter and there it was... this dimply, some what chicken skin resembling patch just below what used to be my cute and perky butt... "What the hell is that?" escaped my lips as I ran my finger tips over my skin. I started my spring tanning but it never went away. I tried to hide it from my love... and myself. But when I start hiding my body, I lose confidence and from there everything begins to sink. Ever since that day it seems I can feel my thighs and my tush expanding...filling out my jeans in a whole new way... and I don't like it!

In the course of all the wonderful changes, have gained about 25 pounds. Now, I will say that I was probably not at my healthiest two years ago. I fit into a size 2, but everyone who knew me told me I needed to gain some weight. But this 25 pounds of "Happy Weight", does not feel good on my body. I've been reading (as I stated) a lot of blogs in the past couple of months, and there is a common theme to much of what I'm reading.... being healthy! Not just losing weight and 'ideal' size, or what diet someone is on. It's about getting happy and being healthy.

I get pretty unfriendly when I'm feeling like crap about myself. I tend to drive people away from me, subconsciously, which really just makes me feel worse about myself and deepens the hole I crawl into. So I've been trying really hard lately to stop snipping at people, and complaining about everything I can think of, and taking things personally, and pushing people away.... but I feel like crap and my jeans keep getting tighter and I'm craving all these really unhealthy foods (donuts, candy...CRAP!) and nothing is satisfying me. I joined a gym in October and have gone exactly twice, meanwhile I KNOW that if I just got my rear back into shape (oh how I miss it's shape), that I would feel better be nicer and the negativity around me would begin to dissipate.

So, I am making my resolution for 2009 a month early. Starting today, I will get back into my workout routine, I will not give in to those pesky cravings, and I will stop drinking beer or wine or whiskey and seven, every night! I am going to use this Blog to keep myself on track, so if you are reading, a little encouragement goes a LONG way with me :o)

My Goals (set 1):

To lose 10 pounds before Valentines day.

To run 1 mile without stopping.

To utilize my gym membership by, at a MINIMUM, going to cycling every week.

LET THE BUTT SHAPING BEGIN!

Something New Every Day

2008-11-21T11:58:00.000-08:00

A recap of this week - in it's random glory:

Sunday I got a whopping 2 hours of sleep and battled the rest of the week trying to regain the missing 6 hours.

Monkey called Her Dad. Which was an amazing step for her. She has, until now, an unexplained fear of the telephone and has been content to calling him from her fingers for the past several months. But alas yesterday she says " Um Mommy, Can I please call my dad?"... I couldn't say no to such an eloquently spoken request.

The Crazy Horse Lady went back on the road so I spent Tuesday evening cooking dinner while simultaneously defuming my house. It's so nice to have my house back, if even for a short while. Though she and her man are soon to be gone for the month of December!! I am ecstatic and overjoyed and counting the weeks. (perhaps they'll get busy and not make it home before then... ah, I can wish right)

It's occurred to me that no one actually reads what I'm posting here, although I did acquire one follower - HI! I like your blog! And it made my day (or hour) when I logged in and saw that I had a follower! So Thank you :o)

I made a kick ass dinner last night... chicken cordon blue and twice baked potatoes... YAY ME!

Tuesday a fellow blogger found out she has Breast Cancer. Please send her your prayers... they work you know. I don't know this woman, but she has 2 boys and she obviously had some suspicion for quite some time and just found out... she seems to be staying amazingly strong and hopeful... so we all need to pray and say hopeful for her and her hubby and their adorable babies.

um... Migraines suck and are no fun and should qualify as an illness therefore a valid excuse to call in to work. However, I could be bleeding out my eyeballs and my boss would still make me come in... even if he's in Mexico... the jerk!

Actually, I heart my boss. He allows things such as blogging and web surfing and coming in late because I technically didn't want to get out of bed therefore had to take Monkey to school because she missed the bus... and he buys me coffee and lunch and new Stability Balls to sit on when I lose the plug to mine.

I microwaved a fork with my lunch without knowing it. I'm a little disappointed now. After being told my whole life not to ever put anything metal in the microwave, I would have expected a blown fuse or at least a neat flashy light show... but no... I just got a really hot fork the had caramelized Swiss cheese stuck to it. (sad.)

Christmas is rushing at me faster than I'd like, and while I am trying to be super responsible and pay off my credit cards, I cant help but buy new jeans... like every couple of weeks. I like jeans like most girls like shoes and hand bags... I just LOVE jeans. But I need to stop buying them for myself and start saving for important things like, The House that we want to buy next year... and oh I don't know... Christmas presents for My Love and "our" kids... and Lucky needs to stop sending me post cards with oober cute jeans on them.

Speaking of the kids, they are coming out this weekend. I'm very excited, the girls didn't come out last weekend, and Mr Man was in trouble so there was a lot of shoveling and working and long serious talks going on and not a lot of the joking and picking on and fun stuff that typically surrounds the weekend. He'll learn though...we hope.

So, I think that's it. If you are reading this, let me know. or if you have any tips on how to get more people to come by and read or whatever. I mean, it's all good to talk to one self, but it's funner to talk to one self and know that other people are in on the conversation too.

Cheers and Happy Weekending!

Cherry Popsicle ~ Peppermint Mocha

2008-11-14T15:30:00.000-08:00

Some quiet would be nice.
Nothing profound or exotic.
Just some quiet.
And perhaps a little fresh air.

A beach ride perhaps.
Just me and Tanner (he doesnt talk much)
To rest. To breathe. To feel life.
Peaceful - Timeless.

perhaps
...
A storm-walk.
The thundering silence
of waves and rain,
washing over me
soaking to my bones.

Just Because no. 1

2008-11-13T16:22:00.000-08:00

"Grey Matter"

I hate you, I love you
Leave, please
Don't go away
Can't decide if
I like your face
Or if I wish
It would stray
You're a child but
You're malicious
You're sweet but
Don't remember my name
And heads you win
And tails I'm lost
And love equals pain

I am drifting
Without an anchor
Through your ambigous region
A strange continent
Immune to all reason
And I'm flattered by
Your grey matter

Inside my skin
I feel your tongue
Telling me I'm dirty
And licking my bones
A surge against silence
A knife across a plate
Makes the sound
Of need on hate

I am drifting
Without an anchor
Through your ambigous region
A strange continent
Immune to all reason
And I'm flattered by
Your grey matter
And I do not understand
Why a woman can't
Just love a man

You're amusing
You're a real cool show
With your meat hooks
And barbed wire carnival
You got glitter in your pocket
You got mothballs in your soul
From too many false teeth
And greasy flash bulbs

I am drifting
Without an anchor
Through your ambigous region
A strange continent
Immune to all reason
And I'm flattered by
Your grey matter

I love you
I hate you

~Jewel Kilcher

A Moment of Clarity Is All I Need

2008-11-10T14:32:00.000-08:00

Have you every had a relationship (romantic or working or whatever) in which communication seems nearly impossible. When every exchange of words is a struggle for clarity and understanding? I work with two people like this and I don't know why but this struggle for meaning and clarity (over menial and seemingly simple requests) is beginning to seep into my home life.

For instance, I ask RF to what the price is on some item he sent to one of our customers. I hate asking him anything, but it is occasionally necessary, this time because he didn't specify on his packing list. Which is something he typically does in abundance.

Seriously, it's rediculious; one time he turned in a gas reciept for the delivery truck. He used the company card so I knew, exactly what it was just looking at the reciept. But just to be helpful he wrote on the reciept "Gas, Foundry". Cool. But in case that was not enough, he then tapes the reciept to a full sized peice of paper and writed in blue sharpie "Foundry, Gas on MasterCard!!!". Because the reciept from Arco that said Mastercard - Foundry xxxx,wouldn't have been clear enough?!?

RF can not just answer a question? He has to delve into this long winded story, telling me repeatedly that he knows I dont need all this information and/or "I know you dont care", about where the part comes from, what it's for and what we charged five years ago and each price increase since then and the reason behind each price increase and how my use of the heater, when he left the door open, is causing global warming in some abstract way... to conclude that the price we charged 6 months ago is the current price because our boss has a deal worked out with that specific customer so they aren't currently charged a metal surcharge...
um, thanks... what was the original question??

Why can't I just get a straight to the point, no extra details crap, honest to goodness clear answer? Is that really too much to ask? Possibly.

I ask my love what he wants for dinner, and he says either "Food" or "Whatever you feel like making."
This, of course, flusterates me to no end, because clearly if I had some idea of what I wanted to eat I would say:
"my love, hows chili sound for dinner?" as I'm chopping the veggies and cooking the meat to throw in the pot that is already simmering.
or
"my love, wny don't you start the grill so these steaks are done when the potatos are ready?"

I pretty much know what he likes, but I tend to get stuck in ruts so I ask him for input in order to mix things up a bit. But I am learning to provide options...
"my love, would you rather have chicken or pork ribs?"
to which he typically says
"whatever you want to make honey."
(grrrrrrr)
But on occasion, he'll actually make a counter suggestion:
"How bout tortellini, that's quick and easy, so then you can relax."
(awwwwe)
Yea, it's the little things that keep me loving him! Truly.

Prince Charming Was A Cowboy, You Know

2008-10-30T10:54:00.001-07:00

Did I mention that I don't usually look forward to things because inevitably when I am really really looking forward to something or counting on something, it falls through...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I keep writing draft posts and never getting back to them... seriously you, I could slap them all in one extended post and see what happens. I don't see that people actually read what I'm writing anyway so it might make for an interesting read one day, maybe today.

I used to LOVE writing. But I only write when things are bothering me. It's safer to write then to actually talk about whats going on in my head, fewer people will think I'm crazy that way. My sister was recently reintroduced to my roller coaster. I thought I'd give my mom a break from my rides and call my sister instead, you know just to mix it up a bit, I wouldn't want anyone to feel neglected or left out here. We went to dinner the other night and I was talking about how maybe I shouldn't have told anyone we went ring shopping and she got this serious look on her face and said I did a complete 360 in the last two weeks. Which is probably true, but I have a lot of time to ponder things that shouldn't be pondered while I'm at work (obviously, I'm blogging here) and I tend to think the worst of things and make little things into big significant catastrophic events, then once I talk about them I realize how incredibly silly I'm being and it's all over, but if I don't talk (or write) about what is bothering me it just gets bigger and bigger until it in no way resembles what the original thought was.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So sometimes (read: typically) definitely means it might happen... but it doesn't. So generally about the time I get really excited about something and start talking about it like it's a for sure thing, it doesn't happen. So, when I wrote that we are definitely going to buy a house after the first of the year it was tongue in cheek (but if I typed it wouldn't it be keys in screen or something) Now we're talking about just renting for a year... so we'll see what happens there.

We did, on a totally awesome note, go on a surprise trip to the jeweler last weekend. When we left he kept looking at me out of the corner of his eye and smiling, and finally said "You thought I was full of crap, didn't you?"
Of course me being a girl (occasionally I am girly) I couldn't keep that little bit to myself so I told my best friend then my sister and blurted it to my Gram... and the ring (YAY!) is just on layaway, and while we've playfully proposed to eachother at different times we are not officially engaged, so it's not even really for sure either. But, considering her dad told me I wasn't worth a ring, this is a really big thing to me and I'm letting myself be excited.

Bottom line (or middle line, we'll see where this ends up): I have never been in a healthy relationship until I met my love. I tend to seek out worthless boys who I make my project. Historically, these boys don't want to be fixed and it takes me 2 years to realize that, and another year to give up and accept that I have wasted another phase of my life... I have done this twice. Another time it only took a year for the worthless child to turn tail and run, because he knew I was smarter, stronger, and better than him in every conceivable way, and it was just a matter of time before I burried him!

So now, here I am with a man who takes care of things and is so incredibly amazing in every category... he's sexy, he's intelligent, he's responsible, he treats me right, he treats me like a lady without over doing it, he brings me flowers at the most random and unexpected times, he doesn't do drugs, he takes care of his kids (and his parents, which is good and bad), he loves me and he tells me so every single day, he's faithful, he respects me, he accepts me for who I am (tattoos and all), and he wants to spend the rest of his life with me! and the best part is... HE'S REALLY REAL!

So of course I'll find little things to question, because this doesn't happen to me... I must be dreaming... Do I really get a prince, who carries me off into the sunset on the back of his horse, or actually buys me my own horse because I said "I really like that one", and we live happily ever after?!!

(SWEET!)

No Bridezilla Here

2008-10-22T10:55:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I wish my brain had one of those reader boards. That way I wouldn't have to articulate myself and everyone would just know what I was thinking, except with an NC17 censor that would just flash butterflies and daisy's and noncommittal things when I'm thinking saucy thoughts....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My love and I are definitely going to buy a house after the first of the year. In discussing this the other day I thought out loud:

"How does that work with taxes. If we're not married how do we both claim the house? We cant exactly file 'Single filing jointly'."

He says, "Well we can get married."

err... [babe, I hope that wasn't you official proposal!]

He has not "officially" proposed... meaning I don't have a ring on my finger to tell the world that I'm finally in a for real relationship and that we are really truly honestly going to get married.

Don't get me wrong, I know we are going to get married. But there is something official about having a ring, that makes it OK to talk about your wedding plans with others. When I tried to broach the subject with a co-worker and my sister they both looked at me with that look that says: "Honey, I don't see a ring on your finger, don't get your heart set yet." But you know what, my heart is set. We talk about it all the time, and while I still feel like I cant tell people we're "engaged", I hate feeling like I can't talk about the plans we're trying to make.

I don't know if I'm up for planning a wedding and buying a house in the same time frame. I don't even know if I want a wedding. After watching my sister plan her wedding I swore I was just going to call everyone from Vegas and make the announcement. But since this is for really happening I'm starting to think that maybe I do want a special day. Not a big elaborate thing where I'm supposed to cry if the centerpieces are the wrong shaped circle and the napkins are imprinted in the wrong corner, but where I can have daisy's in my bouquet whether they are technically weeds or not and I can go barefoot or wear my cowboy boots if that's what I want to do... something simple that we can invite just the people who really matter and they actually come because it's special not just because there's an open bar paid for by my daddy, and it's actually fun and not overwhelming or nit picky or stressful....
[OK, I think just planned my wedding. Call my sister and tell her to make the arrangements, I'll be working my horse :-) ]

I May Not Be Girly But I'm Still A Girl!

2008-10-15T14:50:00.001-07:00

Oh Drat!
I just finished reading Clever Girl's post "Justify My Love", in her own unknowing way she totally explained what I have been doing for the past week and a half. I over analyze EVERYTHING and it's making my love a little irritated. OK, a lot irritated, and I do believe I've pushed him to the point where I'm going to cause a fight.

I don't quite know how to tell him that I need to hear that he still thinks I'm beautiful... and that he shouldn't tell me I can talk to him then change the subject or, worse, not hear a thing I've said when I do (my love, just because you dont agree or don't understand, doesnt mean I dont need to be heard)... I require one real kiss every day, preferably after I've brushed my teeth just prior to going to bed (the ultimate night cap in my opinion)...and he must cuddle with me. There is no negotiating, if he sleeps in my bed he must cuddle with me at some point during our sleep, be it while falling asleep or during the snooze 15, he must cuddle.

My love is super wonderful in so many ways I can not begin to list them all. He just lacks a bit in the intimacy department which, given his high marks in nearly every other category, I am slowly learning to accept (however, it does build up, occasionally manifesting into crabby time that I can neither control nor rationally explain.)

No one is perfect, and he has been pretty darn close thus far.

So lately he's thinking I'm losing it, obviously he needs to read up on what it's like to have the mind of a girl. He is not very understanding when it comes to things such as these, at least I don't think he is. He tends to laugh it off or just ailenate himself (not really helping in the lack of intamicy department) He better learn quick! He has me, two almost teenagers of his own, and my little girl... the poor guy doesn't stand a chance.

Monkey Learns a Life Lesson

2008-10-07T07:41:00.000-07:00

Monkey loves to play dress-up. So, last weekend, when she came to me with her big hazel puppy dog eyes and said "Mommy, can I play dress up? pleasepleaseplease." I knew she was expecting my standard "No", because she has yet to master the skill of getting the dress-up clothes back in the trunk when it's time to clean up. When I said, "Sure, as long as your room is clean." She bounced through the kitchen like I just told her we were going to meet Hannah Montana, which was exactly the response I was hoping for. I love it when she gets excited about little things... I believe that is why she was put on this earth... to make me pull my hair out and fill my heart with joy.

She loves to get dressed up and come out to the living room and pose like she's on a runway. Scarves and purses draped over her arms. Disney Princess dresses, plastic high heels, braclets, sparkling plastic clip on jewels. Pushing a stroller with a stuffed puppy or her Cabbage Patch Baby. She even dresses up her giant Eeyore and Care Bear then hosts tea parties. I LOVE IT!

I'm not girly. I tried to keep up with "princess", and I'm constantly comparing myself to my love's beautiful friends (and trying to smile politely). I like to use my hands, so acryllic nails are totally pointless, my hair wont hold curl and when I get all prettied up I dont feel like me. I never have been one for tights or nylons and dresses and staying out of the mud. I really enjoy spending time getting pretty, but inevitably my hair goes flat in the truck on the way to whatever event made me dare the hot rollers, or if by chance I'm wearing a dress and heels, a horse will escape the barn when we're in the drive way or some other ranch related emergency will transpire and the next thing I know I'll be covered in hay with muddy shoes.... needless to say as long as I have my flat iron, I'm good in jeans and a cute top.

Monkey, on the other hand, is the girliest girl. She loves to play outside with the puppies, but she hates it when they get her dirty (we live on a swamp/ranch so imagine how often she comes in the house wanting to change because one of the puppies jumped on her) She loves tights and dresses and pretty shiny shoes. She loves make-up and frilly things, but she's not so big on pretty hair. The poor girl was cursed with my super fine hair that doesn't hold a curl or a style or even a clip most of the time and, when it's knotty, brushing it feels like someone is pulling your hair out a few at a time. The other day, I was trying to brush a rather sticky knot out, she started crying because it hurt. I told her that sometimes getting pretty hurts and looked up at me and said "Well then I don't want to get pretty, it's no fun!"

She has NO idea!

A Trip Through The Spaghetti

2008-10-02T12:45:00.000-07:00

Happy Random Thursday!
So many things are going on, few of them in any sort of normal context to each other. Just a continuous stream of hodgepodge thoughts flowing through me today...

I learned last night that my cousin is going to be a daddy. I'm really excited for him, he's going to be a GREAT daddy. Part of me has a twinge jealous, because I don't ever get to experience happy baby making... you know, the kind where both people love each other and while they didn't necessarily plan to make a baby they are both delighted and scared but able to share the experience together and it is ultimately a wonderful thing? Yeah, I don't get to do that. And it only recently became apparent to my subconscious that I may want to experience that, but it's just not in the cards. And I think I'm OK with that... or I will keep telling myself that until I'm back in "I definitely don't want to ever be pregnant again" mode.

About a month ago my love and I were sitting in my parent's living room and some where conversation shifted to our kids and how neither one of us get child support, and I said "That's because we both procreated with stupid people." I'm pretty notorious for making offhanded comments such as these. Sometimes they're funny, as in this case (even Dad started laughing), sometimes not so much.

I tend to make a really bad first impression when I meet people. a) because I'm pretty quiet around new people, I don't open up right away and typically need someone I'm oober comfortable around to help through the initial getting to know you stuff, or b) because I'm super chillaxed with close friends and make a one of my offhanded comments that people who know me are so incredibly used to and I end up offending people who don't know me.

I try to be friendly to people I don't know, I'm just not so good at the talking to strangers anymore. I don't know what happened but somewhere in my early 20's I developed this social awkwardness that I cant seem to shake. This awkwardness has turned me into a bit of a homebody again. I'm thinking semi-drastic measures may be necessary... seriously!

A girl at the bar once told a friend of mine that I look mean! That was her first impression. I didn't even have the chance to be sarcastic, or behave in that sometimes crude, "guy" way that most of the time is OK, but occasionally annoys my love to pieces. Without me so much as uttering a word in her direction, I honestly hadn't even noticed her, she looked at me and decided I was mean...? I'm sorry but WTF? I don't have the Gothic thing going, I'm just an average chick in a t-shirt, blue jeans and cowboy boots... Is it my tattoos? Is it my face? What is it about me that would make a person assume that I am mean based soley on my looks?

... Note To Self: Don't assume that girl is a beeotch just because she passed judgement on you. Maybe she's really nice, like you are, and there is actually a reason that she knows your friend well enough to tell him that you look mean.... (eh... or not!)

I believe what you've just read is a perfect example of what I lovingly refer to as Spaghetti Brain.

So, I'm really excited about tonight. We never go out anymore and we are venturing out to see Jake Owen...SWEET! I love live music, especially at the bar because it feels so much more personal than in a big arena or festival. Plus, my Sis and her hubby are going with us, which is cause for excitement in itself because they never go out. So YAY!

cheers!

The Oysters Were Curious Too

2008-10-01T12:15:00.000-07:00

I am curious, I am excited. Where is this blog going to go? Will people actually read it? What will I get from it? What will others take from it? If no one reads it will I stop posting to it? I have been browsing blogs for some time, because I have a desk job which actually allows for such things, and I was surprised to see how LONG this phenomenon has been going on.
How does a new blog attract a following? And does that even matter to me... not really. I just want a place to put my thoughts, share funny things that I find or thing that I find funny, and stretch my imaginative muscles again. I love to write, it's always been an escape for me. One of my college instructors pushed brevity in my assignments which in turn tuned out of my creative rhelm. After that I started strictly journaling. I'd like to get back to that creative side and I think that blogging will help. So if you happen upon this page, please just let me know you were here. Offer up your thoughts on these conversations with myself... please interrupt if you would :o)

Just Fast Forward Through The Icky Part

2008-09-30T11:01:00.000-07:00

Everyone is talking about money and the economy today. I know I cant be the only one who feels unaffected by this stock market crisis. Perhaps I'm not seeing the big picture, or perhaps I dont have any intangible assets (ie. stock or investments), I know where my money is (all $30.00 in my checking account), and my bills are paid.

If I want to go buy a cup of coffee from Sunshine (support your local barista and boycott Starnucks when possible) I'm not going to let the crashign of the Dow interfere with that decision. Am I the only one who feels this way? I sure as heck hope not!

On my way in to the office this morning, I was listening to my morning entertainment. They were asking callers what the last three things they would hang on to would be (aside from essentials like house, food, utilities, family.) Most people answered in the same scope; internet, cable, pizza, beer, cell phone. This got me thinking. What are three expenses that I would continue to pay in the worst economy:

1) My Cell ~ how else would I text my honey while we're both at work?

2) Tanning ~ ok so if necessary I would eventually give this up, but I live in Oregon and I am prone to depression which for some reason lying in a human microwave for 15 minutes twice a week seems to help ward off... not to mention the lovely glow it gives my sometimes pale skin... So I know it's bad (BOOOOO MELANOMA), but so is smoking and I quit that a year ago so c'mon, I need ONE thing :o)

3) My Truck ~ It's not a gas hog, we just put a new engine in it last year, it's kind of a family trophy and I got it, and I live in the sticks so riding a bike is not really a viable source of transportation. Neither is the bus, because I'm not willing to make a 30 minute commute into a 2 hour ordeal every morning and night just to save a little money. Perhaps, should things get REALLY desperate, like there is no gasoline available anywhere and people are rationing flour and milk and oats, I will ride my horse to work, but not until then.....

All this lead me to thinking about all of the things I didn't have when my daughter was a wee little thing and I didn't have ANY money. Seriously, I had to decide which bill I wasn't going to pay each month.

I didn't go to the bar (her dad did but...), we didn't have cable, we lived on Tuna Helper-esque meals ($1.50 a box, just add water or milk and frozen peas), I didn't buy new clothes every payday (or ever for that matter), and I rode the bus or walked everywhere. I only had a cell phone because my mom paid for it for her own sanity of knowing we were safe, and you know what... aside from living with a bum, my daughter and I were just fine. We were healthy, we weren't hungry, and we had a warm home with Disney and Baby Einstein DVDs, a great verity of Cd's and Books and baby toys. Life was pretty good!

So, essentially, I've already lived in a bad economy (my own) and now I have a job that, thankfully, supports my bills and groceries and daycare, with a little extra left for a hazelnut latte if I want one and the occasional new pair of jeans or cute top if I'm having one of those days when nothing feels right and darn-it I just want to. I still don't pay for cable, because I would rather spend that $65+ a month on jeans or drinks or save it (gasp!), we'll see about that.

Some people may not understand, and might say that it's socially irresponsible to not let this economic crisis phase me, and perhaps come spring when I am stuck at the Swamp because my love and I cant buy a house, I'll let it irk me a little. I just don't see how there is anything the average working American can do. We just have to ride it out, maybe start putting away the credit cards and living within our means. Eventually the crisis will be over and life will move forward, it may not look exactly like it did last year, but it will go on. So I'm not going to let it keep me up at night. I will own a home, sooner than later, even if that means investing in a larger piggy bank!

Planning to 'Wing it'

2008-09-29T10:50:00.000-07:00

I didnt sleep well last night, and the lingering effects are that of a hangover. I look like crap, I feel like crap, I really want to curl up and go to sleep, and I have heartburn that I think was spawned from the delecious black forest mocha I wasnt going to indulge in this morning... I hate heartburn. It reminds me of being pregnant, when I ate berry flavored tums like they were candy. I'm cranky and I dont want to work, which is another unfortunate part of it being Monday because of course there is alot of stuff for me to procrastinate on. And for some reason the more I try to procrastinate the more my office becomes a central meeting point for everyone else who wants to procrastinate but make it look like they're really working, which makes it really hard to fake working. I mean, it sounds like I'm working so all should be good... maybe.

So over the weekend I was thinking about this blog. I really just need a sounding board, a place to write. Some place where others may eventually read what I put into words, and even comment some time. I really enjoy reading other people's blogs, I'm possibly even a little envoius of all the people who discovered this excellent time killer long before I. This is not MySpace, WOO HOO! or Facebook. This isnt a popularity contest, at least not in the same sense as other "social networking" sites. It's refreshing to me, at least at this point... I'm babbling arent I? ok... rewind...

Thinking about this blog over the weekend, and all of the things I could write about and it struck me that I could easily write a biography of the past ten years in one blog just to get all of the background to where I am now... but rest assured, I wont. I'm sure some things will come to surface in my entries because every event in the past 8 years or so has lead up to exactly where I am in my life right now. People talk about regrets and if only's, but I can honeslty say that while I have made some really selfish and just plain BAD choices, I do not regret a single one. I know, in my soul, that if I changed even one key event of the past 8 years, I wouldnt be in the relationship I'm in, I wouldn't be living the life I am living, and I wouldn't be happier (in the big scheme of things) than I ever could have imagined. I have an amazing daughter, a decent paying job, a mostly loyal puppy, a work in progress 4 year old buckskin quarterhorse, and plans to marry the man of my dreams once we work out some details. Who could ask for more than that?

I Only Read The Headlines

2008-09-26T11:35:00.000-07:00

My idea of keeping up with world events is to read the headlines, I dont generally read more than the headlines, because I'm not a details person when it comes to the news. It's all so depressing and I am believe that, ultimately, if I cant do anything to change it..."Wow that is sad/unfortunate/incredible/doesnt actually surprise me"...next...

I read alot of "Pop Culture" and otherwise useless articles because I'm far more shallow that I care to admit (but I just did admit it so perhaps that makes me one step closer to recovery!) and they tend to be quick to the jist sparing all the unnecessary details.

Needless to say, I dont pay much attention to Wall Street. Such things that are out of my scope for comprehension, mostly because I dont have any investments, I dont wear a suit to work, and I get my paycheck and I can pay my bills so I dont think about money markets and what fat cats are doing in the economy. It just pisses me off that groceries are so expensive and I cant afford to go for my hour long drives through the "enchanted forest" anymore because gas costs too damn much! But this morning I read that Washington Mutual was seized; the largest bank failure in the history of the US. and I got a little worried. I read the entire article, which I can not quote any part of except the headline (go figure) but I am quite confused as to how such a thing happends.

As I'm witing this my brain is processing the answer to my confusion. All of the headlines from the past few months have been leading to this very thing. Banks and Lenders gave loans to people whom they knew were not likely to pay them back. Then offered these loans so that people could buy homes they could not really afford but felt they were entitled to. Then slowly, as gas prices began to rise, and the cost of our way of life began to rise, more and more people realised they could not afford their homes and began to default on their loans. So the banks are out all this money that they loaned to people whom they knew probably couldnt pay them back, and now the banks are failing. Bottom Line.
Somehow this all ties into the mega-mergers of the 90's, I know it!

Recap of my morning learning:
WaMu is no longer
Senator Mcain is going to attend the presidential debate (woohoo!)
Brad and Angie moved again (I think these two are amazing in their humanitarian work and the media needs to focus more on the selfless things they do rather than how many kids they have and if they're breaking up or not! Just a thought)
and by far the most mind boggling thing I have read yet... maybe ever but I cant say for sure...
PETA proposes that Ben & Jerry's use breast milk in its ice cream
ARE YOU SERIOUS??? Who are these people!

I wonder what the afternoon will bring...
cheers!

What would you do?

2008-09-25T14:12:00.000-07:00

Check out this story:

Man Claims Penis Amputated Without Consent
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/26890724/

The Swamp and The Crazy Horse Lady

2008-09-25T10:33:00.000-07:00

For the past year I have lived on a ranch. Technically the ranch is on wetlands so, it would be more accurate to say, from October through April it's a swamp. On the ranch are 30 horses, one is mine, two are my love's, and the other 27 belong to the crazy horse lady (read; crazy cat lady only with horses) who pays the other half of the rent and the untilites (when she remembers).
I heart the crazy horse lady, she has some great stories about when she was cowboying in Wyoming and south-eastern Oregon, and how she learned things from 'real' old timers, and she is mostly a kick in the pants. She's got some interesting views on politics, horses, aliens, recycling and anything that may possibly have a hint of liberalism... but I respect her anyway. You can teach me something that may change my understanding, but you cant ever tell me that what I believe is wrong and what you believe is right and expect me to change my beliefs on that basis alone. She gets that, so we're good.
You know how people say never discuss Politics and Religion, well she throws horses in there too, then she talks non stop about Politics and Horses like she is the end all be all know all on both subjects and she will argue with you even when you are agreeing with her. It's amusing in small doses, and since I'm not much of a debater I let her and my love go at it while I listen in and laugh.

I grew up in the suburbs so when I first moved to the ranch I felt so lucky, not many people that I know have an opportunity to live on a ranch and take care of horses everyday. That feeling has waned substantially in the past 12 months. Dont get me wrong, I love the space. I love the horses, their sounds, their smell, their presence. I love the hay, in all of it's glorious itchiness. I even love the clockwork train that rattles my house at 7pm, 11pm, and 530am. I accepted my newly discovered allergies, and the fact that a couple cats, while annoying in their own right, are better than even a single mouse in the house.
I dont love my slowly sinking house; apparently living on a swamp has repricussions on a foundation. I dont love the musty smell it's taken on or the lovely, bar like, air quality that signifies when the crazy horse lady is home. I dont really love sharing my space, ie. other than my love and his children, no more roommates. And I dont love lugging 4 bales of hay, one at a time, through knee high mud in the rain everynight to feed 20 horses that should have been sold last spring but the crazy horse lady stayed home for 4 months then didnt stick to her plan.
This should not be misconstrued as me not loving the horses. I feel sad for the horses, I dont want to resent the horses, it's not their fault. I'm sure they wish they had thousands of acres to roam, instead of just 40. I'm sure they want endless supplies of food to keep them plump all winter long. But I know that most of them would rather be out in the field than in a stall, they dont like stalls.
Next year, come springtime, when the mares are putting new foals on the ground, and the yearlings are starting to look more like horses and less like large deer, when my newly discovered allergies flare back up, and the mud starts to get hard again, we will leave the ranch. Even in these craptacular economic times, we are planning to buy at least 5 acres, a house with room for 6 (his, mine and us), two dogs and a barn for our 3 (unmultiplying) horses.