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Showing posts from October, 2014

Lookie what I got!

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The first payment is due on December 14th so if you were expecting a Christmas gift from me this year . . . um, I hope you like it?

It's a 2012 Chevy Equinox LS. No crumbs embedded in the back seat, no dog hair (yet) . . . ah, it's glorious.

Still wasting time . . . just finding other ways to do it

As you may recall, last week I decided to unplug for a bit. This endeavor mostly consisted of me trying my level best to stay off Facebook. I also fought the compulsion to answer every email that hit my in-box. And let me tell you, it was hard. This is going to sound weird but sometimes I think I've made the mistake of being too competent. If someone has a question and you jump to answer it, you'll be the go-to resource henceforth. By trying to be that person for so many people, I'm bringing more stress into my life than is necessary. My friend Jane says that she has to remind herself that she is a human being, not a human doing. Do you ever try to ponder your own mortality? When I think of what it will be like to . . . not be here anymore, the first thing I always think is, "Well, at least the worrying will stop." I really need to find better ways to manage the goings-on in my own brain.

Staying offline (for the most part, anyway) gave me some extra time, which…

#1000

Here it is. My 1000th blog entry. Woot! :::pumping fist in the air as if I am the only person on the planet with a blog:::

I have definitely considered abandoning the blog more than once. "Why bother?" I think to myself. But, I keep writing and I'm pretty sure I do it mostly for myself. Writing is often therapeutic for me. I remember when my friend Kevin died. I couldn't sleep so I got up in the middle of the night and wrote about him. It turned out to be the turning point in the grief process. I also remember another sleepless night when I rolled out of bed and wrote about a friend who had hurt my feelings. To this day, I still wonder if it was her or me or if the friendship had simply run its course.  I still miss her. Catharsis doesn't always mean closure, I suspect, but writing really does help.

I wish I had started the blog before my daughter was born.  There was a lot of anxiety before and after her birth and writing about it might have helped. However, I …

Unplugging

This is my 999th blog post. I'll have to think of something fantabulous to write for the next one. For now, I think I'm going to do my best to unplug for a few days. I'm in a funk and I don't really know why. I'm irritable towards people who don't deserve my irritability. I'm frustrated by a personal situation that I can't talk about. I'm battling a medical issue and my doctor is operating under a theory that, it seems to me, is incorrect. The sameness of my days . . . ah, it seems endless. Go to work, come home, make dinner, do the laundry, yell about homework, go to the gym or to yoga, then go to bed. Thanksgiving can't come soon enough. No work, no homework yelling.  I know I'm being whiny but maybe I just need a wee bit of a break. I'm going to see if I can stay away from Facebook/email/texts for a few days. It seems silly that this prospect is so challenging to me.

Is this how Calvin Klein's mother felt?

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I admit it: I am pretty tightly wound. Although I think I've mellowed a tiny bit as I've aged, my disdain for clutter has not. Now, I need to add a little disclaimer here. Because I'm not a fan of clutter, people think I might get all judge-y when I go to their house. Not in the least. I truly do not care what anyone else does with their home (and the stuff inside it), and I always feel terrible when I go to someone's house and they say things like, "Don't look in the spare bedroom. It's a wreck."  When I go to a friend's house, I actually feel like I'm off the hook. It's not my stuff so I don't have to worry about it.

It's kind of funny how some things bother me and some things do not. For example, I am totally fine with having clean dishes in the dish drainer rack. For items we use frequently, they just stay there indefinitely. I know that sort of thing drives some people around the bend. Occasionally, I put some of the stuff a…

Two new things I learned to do this week

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1. Bake using coconut oil. When I went vegan four months ago, I assumed my days of eating chocolate chip cookies were over. Granted, it's a good thing that so many things are off the table (literally and figuratively) for me now. Although my diet is mostly a reflection of my beliefs about the dairy/factory farming industries (I'm not doing it specifically for health reasons, in other words), I do try to eat stuff that's actually good for me.

Anywho, I found this recipe and thought I'd give it a try. I was interested in it because it contains
ingredients I've heard of.  A lot of vegan recipes require ingredients that are obscure/exotic at best. Or maybe everyone keeps agave nectar sitting around?  I have no idea. An ingredient that seems to be somewhat more commonly available is coconut oil. I was a-skeered because I hate coconut. There aren't words to describe adequately how much I dislike coconut. However, I was hoping it didn't actually bring that sort o…

The poodle skirt to end all poodle skirts

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Originally, my daughter wanted to be an Irish dancer for Halloween. However, it turns out that the only way to get your hands on a pattern for one of those dresses is to fork over your kidney and your life savings. So, the kid and I went to Jo-Ann Fabrics and she flipped through the pattern books. She decided she wanted to be a "50s Girl." She called her personal designer (AKA Meemaw) and placed an order for a poodle skirt.  She was very specific about the color of the skirt, too.  It had to be a teal green/blue.

Today, we received the skirt. My mom also made a crinoline for A to wear under the skirt. I bought a basic white shirt and some saddle shoes. Now we just need a scarf and she'll be all set. As always, she plans to attend several Halloween events, so the skirt will get lots of wear.  The poodle itself is a sight to behold - it has a gold leash, a collar, and even a tiny little ID tag.  Fancy-schmancy!

Thanks, Meemaw!




Hardware installation (Subtitle: "Just yogurt for me, thanks")

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Our daughter had her big trip to the orthodontist this afternoon.  P picked her up from school and then I met them at the orthodontist's office. I got there first. I could tell as soon as the kid walked in that she was really nervous. So, I held her in the waiting room until it was time for her to go in. When her name was called, her dad and I went back with her.

At first, A was determined not to talk to the person who was fitting her with the palate expander. I must apologize because I'm not sure what that person's job title is, but she was very nice. She was a pro at getting a scared fourth grader to chat with her, too. My daughter went from "I don't want to be here" to an in-depth discussion of her favorite types of cupcakes, where she goes to school, and what her dog's name is.

Getting the expander fitted was quite the process. The technician lady worked on it and then the orthodontist came over and finished the installation. A started to cry. I don…

This one's NOT for you, Dad

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I had my first mammogram yesterday. It was only mildly traumatic. I was supposed to have my first one several years ago and I'm a bit embarrassed that I didn't bite the bullet and just make that appointment before now. I'm fortunate that I don't have a family history of breast cancer but still, I should have gone sooner.

My appointment was for 8:00 a.m. I arrived at the hospital and a volunteer (a nice retired gentleman) walked me downstairs to the booby squishing department. "You look familiar to me," he said. Then he recognized me. We go to the same gym. "I've seen you working out," he told me.

"I'm sorry you've had to see that," I responded. How come no one ever recognizes you from some moment in your life when you looked awesome? Like, "Hey, I saw you collecting daisies in a field on a perfect summer day. You were in soft focus and you looked spectacular!"

I checked in, got my wrist band, and then took my seat in…

This one's for you, Dad

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For reasons known only to him, my father finds the concept of picking apples to be very comical. Every fall, my husband and daughter and I head to a local orchard to pick apples. I am pretty sure we are not the only ones to do this. It seems to me like a common autumn-type excursion. Last year, my daughter took a photo of me and her dad next to an apple tree, and I posted it on Facebook. My dad has been calling us "the apple pickers" since then.  Over the summer, he shared our orchard photo on Facebook right before we drove out to Maryland to visit him. "The apple pickers are on their way," he wrote.

I knew we were going to pick apples last Saturday so I gave him a heads-up ahead of time. "Those apples won't pick themselves," he told me.  And then added: "be sure to wear your official apple picking outfits."  There were so many people at the orchard that they had a team of six people who had the sole function of parking cars. Apple pickers …

This one's pretty exciting, you guys

I haven't been writing much, because there hasn't been much going on. The rescue had its big fundraiser on September 20th and I needed about a week just to recover from that. As far as what I've been doing  with my free time . . . I know I'm late to this party but I've been plowing through all five seasons of "Six Feet Under."  I truly think it's one of the best shows I've ever seen. I'm not one to sit around and watch TV for large stretches of time, but having HBO GO on my Kindle means I can watch the show when I'm getting ready and whatnot. I watched "Big Love" over the summer. P and I also just finished "Breaking Bad" (we accomplished that one via DVDs from Netflix).  We were late to that party, too.

The only other bit of recent news is that I bought myself a plane ticket to visit my middle sister and her family in Northern Virginia for Thanksgiving. I can't wait!  I saw my sister for about five minutes in a park…