Today has been the complete opposite of yesterday as I've been anything BUT bored. In fact, I have been quite busy since the moment I first awoke to screeching cat noises to now, the latter end of the evening.
KC even convinced me (though I'm not sure how) to let her have a friend over tonight. And despite my nervousness over the state of her room behind her currently closed door (as my coolness as a Mom has evidently faded) I can tell by the giggles and hushed whispers that they're more than having fun.
I had company earlier as well. Bren and her daughter Livvy came over for dinner, after I bribed her with the dinner menu. I defrosted some of the riggie sauce I made last week, boiled water for fresh pasta, threw together a quick Caesar salad (thanks to Dole) and made a fresh loaf of garlic bread, all in the twenty or so minutes it took for them to get here.
Bren brought over some raspberry malted beverage which was more than an even exchange ... And quite good too. Although I think we could have done with maybe a few more. And then maybe a few more after that. Not that I'm much of a drinker, but they went down smooth and cold. Nice on an almost summer night.
As for me, I'm more tired than I thought I was and hope to get to sleep fairly early tonight, though to be honest, I'm not counting on it. The last time KC had a sleep over, I fell asleep sometime around when the girls did, just a few hours off their plan to stay up ALL night.
Consequences of Boredom
I am bored right out of my freaking mind.
I tried reading a book ... But I couldn't lose myself in it. I tried spending time in my garden weeding ... But halfway through playing in the dirt, the fun aspect of it seemed to wear off. I tried watching something on the TV. In fact, one of my favorite movies, The MatchMaker was on ... But I just wasn't in the mood. Then I pulled my flute and some old copies of sheet music from the closet and decided I'd try making some music for a bit and wound up scaring myself near to death with just how out of practice I am.
I've tried everything. Anything. And nothing. And all I am is bored, bored, bored ...
Sad thing is, I thought this weekend was going to be fantastic. No kid for two days, clear weather and nothing in desperate need of cleaning. Just a weekend for myself by myself.
Now I'm wishing KC were home and I could talk to someone other than the cats who've proved not to be very fun company today.
What to do? What to do?
I tried reading a book ... But I couldn't lose myself in it. I tried spending time in my garden weeding ... But halfway through playing in the dirt, the fun aspect of it seemed to wear off. I tried watching something on the TV. In fact, one of my favorite movies, The MatchMaker was on ... But I just wasn't in the mood. Then I pulled my flute and some old copies of sheet music from the closet and decided I'd try making some music for a bit and wound up scaring myself near to death with just how out of practice I am.
I've tried everything. Anything. And nothing. And all I am is bored, bored, bored ...
Sad thing is, I thought this weekend was going to be fantastic. No kid for two days, clear weather and nothing in desperate need of cleaning. Just a weekend for myself by myself.
Now I'm wishing KC were home and I could talk to someone other than the cats who've proved not to be very fun company today.
What to do? What to do?
Here On the Home Front
It's Thursday, but it feels like a Tuesday and tomorrow is a Friday that's going to feel like a Wednesday. And I'm all confused ... Add on the fact that I've no work on Monday due to Memorial Day and I swear if I can remember my own name by the end of the weekend I'll be doing okay.
But I am looking forward to the weekend and the guaranteed quiet of it. My garden is overgrown and mostly un-planted. Not surprising when considering my serious lack of time lately and the weather that has ranged from frost in May and rain that seems to only fall on the weekends as if someone somewhere is secretly rubbing their hands together in glee with every drop that falls.
As I'm writing, the sun is beginning to set, leaving shadows of sunlight on the flower filled field across our road, while the birds chirp their love songs from the trees. It is a quiet night, even quieter now that Mom has returned home to North Carolina. And I already miss having her around, as does KC, though truth be told, a short visit is far better than no visit at all.
But I am looking forward to the weekend and the guaranteed quiet of it. My garden is overgrown and mostly un-planted. Not surprising when considering my serious lack of time lately and the weather that has ranged from frost in May and rain that seems to only fall on the weekends as if someone somewhere is secretly rubbing their hands together in glee with every drop that falls.
As I'm writing, the sun is beginning to set, leaving shadows of sunlight on the flower filled field across our road, while the birds chirp their love songs from the trees. It is a quiet night, even quieter now that Mom has returned home to North Carolina. And I already miss having her around, as does KC, though truth be told, a short visit is far better than no visit at all.
End of an Evening
Just like I knew it would, these four days have flown by as if they couldn't have gone any faster. And it's all I can do to keep myself from crying at the thought of her departure tomorrow morning for home. I am a sad girl, and an even sadder daughter.
If only she didn't have to live so far away. If only she didn't have to leave so soon ...
If only she didn't have to live so far away. If only she didn't have to leave so soon ...
Mom and Me
My Mom is here! Well, almost here. She's actually at my Gram's for the night and will be coming out in the morning to see KC's recital, along with the rest of my assorted family.
And even though I'm thirty, there's something odd about being in the same room with my Mom and Dad at the same time. Kind of like a chicken little thing fearing that the sky will fall at any given moment. Though to be honest, it's no where near what it was like when we were kids. Back then it always felt like I was a rubber band snapping back and forth, changing myself to match the parent I was with. And I guess in a way that hasn't changed much at all. I still try to make my Mother proud and wave my hands in the air to get my Father's attention.
With my Mom so close, it's hard to contain myself from feeling a thousand different emotions. On one hand, a major load of stress trying to get my house as close to perfect as possible and on the other hand, absolute joy to be able to spend time with my Mom. Something that has been very hard to do when she's lived in North Carolina these past 9 years ... But the worst emotion, is the one I get when I realize just how short a visit this one is going to be. Goodbyes are not my forte. Not even close. And though some might consider me a baby, I came to the conclusion a long time ago, that I'd never be too old to want my Mommy around more often than not.
These next four days are going to fly by fast. So fast, that I doubt I'll be near my computer long enough to think of a single word to say, let alone post. So once again, you're going to have to miss me. My ego always needs a stroke.
And even though I'm thirty, there's something odd about being in the same room with my Mom and Dad at the same time. Kind of like a chicken little thing fearing that the sky will fall at any given moment. Though to be honest, it's no where near what it was like when we were kids. Back then it always felt like I was a rubber band snapping back and forth, changing myself to match the parent I was with. And I guess in a way that hasn't changed much at all. I still try to make my Mother proud and wave my hands in the air to get my Father's attention.
With my Mom so close, it's hard to contain myself from feeling a thousand different emotions. On one hand, a major load of stress trying to get my house as close to perfect as possible and on the other hand, absolute joy to be able to spend time with my Mom. Something that has been very hard to do when she's lived in North Carolina these past 9 years ... But the worst emotion, is the one I get when I realize just how short a visit this one is going to be. Goodbyes are not my forte. Not even close. And though some might consider me a baby, I came to the conclusion a long time ago, that I'd never be too old to want my Mommy around more often than not.
These next four days are going to fly by fast. So fast, that I doubt I'll be near my computer long enough to think of a single word to say, let alone post. So once again, you're going to have to miss me. My ego always needs a stroke.
Yoda, yoda, yoda ...
Would that something interesting happened around here, besides pulling my hair out at work and coming home to clean the house from top to bottom in preparation for my Mother's impending arrival this Saturday morning, I'd be blogging up a storm.
As it is I'm still trying to understand why anyone would spend two months sleeping on a sidewalk to see a movie. Not that I'm knocking Star Wars or anything, but come on, it's a movie for goodness sake. Let's put things in perspective ... Comfy, warm bed versus not so comfy cold, hard sidewalk to see a movie that will eventually be released on DVD.
We really need to decide these things?
Granted I will admit that the light saber toys are pretty neat looking and I wouldn't mind going all Jedi on a few people while using the force to my advantage in a Luke, I am not your father routine.
Oh well, time to fire up the hover craft and float my tired behind upstairs.
As it is I'm still trying to understand why anyone would spend two months sleeping on a sidewalk to see a movie. Not that I'm knocking Star Wars or anything, but come on, it's a movie for goodness sake. Let's put things in perspective ... Comfy, warm bed versus not so comfy cold, hard sidewalk to see a movie that will eventually be released on DVD.
We really need to decide these things?
Granted I will admit that the light saber toys are pretty neat looking and I wouldn't mind going all Jedi on a few people while using the force to my advantage in a Luke, I am not your father routine.
Oh well, time to fire up the hover craft and float my tired behind upstairs.
Lights Out
Today is the most wonderful day ... Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful! Thank you Mr. Electricity man who broke the pole that held the transformer that powers where I work and got me an early out for this beautiful, sun shiny day! I am in your debt ... At least until tomorrow. What say you to doing it again?
Enough With the Lysol Already ...
Poison Ivy. Two words no Mom wants to hear four days before her daughter's dance recital, and certainly not something she wants to see when she comes home from work at the end of an already stressful day.
Even worse is finding out how upset her daughter was by the way people reacted to the news. How they followed her around the house with Lysol spray and told her she couldn't touch anything, and had to sit on one certain chair until it was time for her to go home as if she was some horribly contagious thing.
But knowledge is power. Turn any computer on and google poison ivy and you can find out in a matter of seconds that poison ivy is only contagious as long as the oil remains on the skin. And since the exposure to the poison ivy happened on Sunday, it was a given that the oil on the skin had been sufficiently washed off by Tuesday afternoon. In other words, those who overreacted ought to be ashamed of themselves for making my girl feel like the local leper.
I'm trying not to rant about this ... Really, I am. But as one who knows first hand the feelings you get over being followed around by someone who cares more about making sure they sanitize the air behind you than how you're feeling, the whole thing just rubs me the wrong way. Argh!
All that aside, I'm happy to report that KC has been successfully treated with an oatmeal bath and a calamine rub and is now sleeping blissfully unaware of her own itchiness.
Even worse is finding out how upset her daughter was by the way people reacted to the news. How they followed her around the house with Lysol spray and told her she couldn't touch anything, and had to sit on one certain chair until it was time for her to go home as if she was some horribly contagious thing.
But knowledge is power. Turn any computer on and google poison ivy and you can find out in a matter of seconds that poison ivy is only contagious as long as the oil remains on the skin. And since the exposure to the poison ivy happened on Sunday, it was a given that the oil on the skin had been sufficiently washed off by Tuesday afternoon. In other words, those who overreacted ought to be ashamed of themselves for making my girl feel like the local leper.
I'm trying not to rant about this ... Really, I am. But as one who knows first hand the feelings you get over being followed around by someone who cares more about making sure they sanitize the air behind you than how you're feeling, the whole thing just rubs me the wrong way. Argh!
All that aside, I'm happy to report that KC has been successfully treated with an oatmeal bath and a calamine rub and is now sleeping blissfully unaware of her own itchiness.
Confucius Says ...
If there is just one lesson that I can impart to the world, and for that matter to myself, let it be this ... If the trunk of your car won't close, it's not because you don't know how to shut it, it's because there's something in the way.
My track record with trunks is not so good. Way back when Bren and I were still in senior high, there was this one little incident that involved the trunk of my car and Brenda's fingers. I remember being completely perplexed with each attempt to shut the trunk, wondering out loud to myself why it was it wouldn't close. But I can't take all the blame ... I'm sure had she said something, or screamed even, I would have noticed far sooner than the five attempts it took me before I finally put two and two together to equal her standing there all pale faced with her eyes bugging out of her head and the reason why the trunk refused to close.
So you think some years later I would have figured out much sooner than today's three attempts that there was obviously something in the way of the trunk and it shutting. Heck, if my nephew hadn't pointed out to me the problem, I'd still probably be in my driveway scratching my head. As it is, I almost killed my cell phone ... And it has the dents to prove it.
Oh well. It's all seems quite funny now. Or is it just because I've been up since six thirty this morning and running around with my head cut off like some sort of girl accomplishment? I don't know, and to be honest don't feel like sticking around much longer to sort it all out when there is an empty bed and pillow calling my name.
(And for all you Survivor fans out there watching tonight's finale ... Coby's still my favorite.)
My track record with trunks is not so good. Way back when Bren and I were still in senior high, there was this one little incident that involved the trunk of my car and Brenda's fingers. I remember being completely perplexed with each attempt to shut the trunk, wondering out loud to myself why it was it wouldn't close. But I can't take all the blame ... I'm sure had she said something, or screamed even, I would have noticed far sooner than the five attempts it took me before I finally put two and two together to equal her standing there all pale faced with her eyes bugging out of her head and the reason why the trunk refused to close.
So you think some years later I would have figured out much sooner than today's three attempts that there was obviously something in the way of the trunk and it shutting. Heck, if my nephew hadn't pointed out to me the problem, I'd still probably be in my driveway scratching my head. As it is, I almost killed my cell phone ... And it has the dents to prove it.
Oh well. It's all seems quite funny now. Or is it just because I've been up since six thirty this morning and running around with my head cut off like some sort of girl accomplishment? I don't know, and to be honest don't feel like sticking around much longer to sort it all out when there is an empty bed and pillow calling my name.
(And for all you Survivor fans out there watching tonight's finale ... Coby's still my favorite.)
Theme Song a la Stacey
Girls Like Me written By Mary Chapin Carpenter
Girls like me aren't hard to find
We grow like roses on the vine
And wear our hearts on our sleeves
You probably know a girl like me
We live alone and in our heads
We eat standing up or in our beds
Guilt and fear merge easily
In the quiet souls of girls like me
And loneliness is like a cold
Common and no cure we're told
We take to bed perchance to dream
In the blue light of the TV screen
Girls like me like summer light
A cold beer on a summer night
And boys who aren't afraid of what they see
Inside the eyes of girls like me
And hopefulness is like a drug
It makes a girl believe in love
And if somehow you love us back
We think there's something wrong with that
Girls like me aren't hard to trust
Your deepest secret's safe with us
And when it's time we set you free
You can always count on girls like me
It's good to know a girl like me
You used to love a girl like me
Oops. I Did It Again ...
OK ... So I lied. I said I was going to post and here I am already a day behind. At least take heart that I'm having fun in my absence ...
So if it's quite alright ... Miss me for one night more.
So if it's quite alright ... Miss me for one night more.
Hey Jupiter
In honor of my last unofficial break from the blog day, I leave you with only one question. If your life had a theme song, what would it be? And why?
Okay ... For those of you who want to be technical and point out the obvious ... Yes, I did ask two questions and not just one. (So sue me.)
Anyhoo, tonight is my last unofficial taking a break from the blog day and starting tomorrow things around NWTLO will be very much back to normal which means (drum roll please) daily posting once more ... Even if nothing at all interesting happens.
For now I'm off to bed. A tired Stacey is a cranky Stacey and a cranky Stacey is not someone you want to be around ... Trust me on this. On the scale of one to ten of not pretty, it's off the charts at eleven.
So bring on the theme songs people. You tell me yours and I'll tell you mine.
Kinky, isn't it?
Okay ... For those of you who want to be technical and point out the obvious ... Yes, I did ask two questions and not just one. (So sue me.)
Anyhoo, tonight is my last unofficial taking a break from the blog day and starting tomorrow things around NWTLO will be very much back to normal which means (drum roll please) daily posting once more ... Even if nothing at all interesting happens.
For now I'm off to bed. A tired Stacey is a cranky Stacey and a cranky Stacey is not someone you want to be around ... Trust me on this. On the scale of one to ten of not pretty, it's off the charts at eleven.
So bring on the theme songs people. You tell me yours and I'll tell you mine.
Kinky, isn't it?
Color Me Irritated
Just when you think everything is starting to come together, everything gets itself all fucked up. And though this may seem an overreaction to a washing machine that for some unknown reason is refusing to agitate - anything other than me that is - it's enough to make me want to scream in frustration. I do not have time for this! I do not have any spare cash for this! I am not a happy camper!
Why oh why can't one damn thing go right?
Why oh why can't one damn thing go right?
Happy Mom's Day ...
For all the times I should have said "Thanks" but didn't ... For all the times you dried my tears, bandaged my boo boo's and told me to try again ... For teaching me that strength is more than being stubborn and faith is holding on to hope through the darkest times ... Thanks Mom. I couldn't have done any of it without you ... I only hope that I can be half the Mom to my daughter as you still are to me ...
I love you!
I love you!
Who Do You Blame When Your Mouth Is On Fire?
You've been craving pizza for weeks. You order your pizza with the best pizza place in town. Medium. One half only cheese (for the kid) and the other half green peppers and mushrooms. You drive the fifteen minutes back home. You open the box. And you stand there in your kitchen with the "I can't believe it's not butter" look on your face, as you slap your forehead in vain. "Hot peppers!" you exclaim loudly, "I said green peppers!"
Dreaming In Riddles
It seems I've been on another unintentional blog break again. All I've been able to do is sit and stare at this blank screen and wonder to myself what it is I should be writing about ... Hence the silence.
I did however have an odd sort of dream last night of which I will post more in detail later when time allows. But for now, the very center of the dream and in fact the word that was on my tongue when I woke up was this ...
Miosis.
My subconscious evidently thinks I'm walking around blind.
I did however have an odd sort of dream last night of which I will post more in detail later when time allows. But for now, the very center of the dream and in fact the word that was on my tongue when I woke up was this ...
Miosis.
Main Entry: mi·o·sis
Pronunciation: mI-'O-s&s, mE-
Function: noun
Inflected Form(s): plural mi·o·ses /-"sEz/
Etymology: New Latin, from Greek myein to be closed (of the eyes) + New Latin -osis
Date: 1819
: excessive smallness or contraction of the pupil of the eye
My subconscious evidently thinks I'm walking around blind.
Getting Ready ...
So many things I should be doing ...
Who has time to blog? I've got an entire house to whip into order!
Sigh ... Where's a "Merry Maid" when I need one?
Hmmmmm ... Odd, isn't it?
1. Cleaning both upstairs bedrooms.
2. Mopping the upstairs bathroom.
3. Changing the litter in the catbox, hamster cage, bird cage ...
4. Supervising dinner prep (rather than waiting for the sign of smoke to send me signals that it may be done.)
5. Run folded laundry upstairs and put it away in (gasp) drawers!
6. Vacuum the entire house.
7. Put the clean dishes away.
8. Polish the sink. (I read somewhere that the key to a clean house is a clean sink.)
9. Brush the cats.
10. Mop kitchen.
11. Clean the dreaded closet ... (I meant to do this last week and decided that my time would be much better spent doing anything but.)
12. Dust, polish, shine, sweep, vacuum, mop anything and everything cause Mom's coming for a visit!
Who has time to blog? I've got an entire house to whip into order!
Sigh ... Where's a "Merry Maid" when I need one?
Hmmmmm ... Odd, isn't it?
Just finished watching this movie, and despite what some of the reviews I've read say, I thought it was wonderful. 4-1/2 stars in my book.
