Thursday, November 05, 2009

Free Spirits and the Undies Vs. Mean Old Lady

Originally posted: Monday, November 12, 2007

Free Spirits and the Undies Vs. Mean Old Lady
Current mood: silly

Cyd, her sistercousin and I had a great afternoon, that actually blended into the evening Sat.

We were just hanging out.. looking for undies and other girlie unmentionables while we were ambushed by the Mean Old Lady... possesor of the Bitchy Old Soul.... Hunter of Laughter and Killer of Free Spirits.

sounds dangerous I know... grab your blankies and read on fearless readers!!!

Cyd was on the phone with a friend, Reese was looking at something else and I was left to my own devices.. (maybe not a good thing) when I found these slipper boots that made me giggle.

I love things that make me giggle by just looking at them (that might explain some of my past dates.. ahem)

Anyway they were these really fuzzy furry slippers that came in pink, hot pink and cream.. and I thought they were hilarious, and wondered how many muppets had to die to make each pair.. so I promptly decided Cyd would have the answer... put them on and hopped over to where she was. (I had to hop because they were hooked together.. that’s for you boys that might not know that much about slipper shopping)

Well as I was hopping I was of course giggling which in turn made Cyd start to giggle, and then she saw the reason for my hopping which made her giggle even more, which of course (yep you guessed it) made me giggle more...and we all know how quiet my laugh is.. NOT

I hopped back to the muppet slipper display and saw that directly behind it was a table of undies. Well they happened to have stars on them the same color as my muppet slippers so I thought it would look really cute together. I put the undies on over my jeans and the muppet slippers and hopped back to Cyd, which produced more laughter.

This laughter alerted Mean Old Lady and sent her on the hunt to kill the source...
She came at us like a heat seeking missle and in her very best condescending voice exlaimed “You cannot do that out here! You need to stop it!”

I looked at her with a straight face and said “ok... I’m sorry”

Promptly took the panties off, while Cyd and I giggled some more, and decided to purchase the panites and muppet boots so we started digging through the pile looking for our sizes. We were bantering back and forth, she was relaying what just happened to us to her friend on the phone, which made us giggle even more at the stupidity of the situation.

Well.. I can only imagine our laughter was piercing the ear drums of Mean Old Lady because once again she made a bee line for us.

“I asked you not to do that out here!”

“Yes, you asked us once and we stopped. Now we are just laughing.” I said aggravated at this point.

“Well, the reason is, is that it stretches out the elastic.”

I looked up at her with the straightest face I could put on and said “Did you just call me FAT?!?!?”

Which of course sent Cyd into peels of laughter, and my straight face directly out the window.

Mean Old Lady tried to regain some control of the situation “I AM NOT finding this as funny as you girls are!”

Straight face back on... “OBVIOUSLY!”

Mean Old Lady recognized her bitchy old soul no match for our free spirits and walked away.

Free Spirits 1 Mean Old Lady 0

Bed 1... Nixie 1

Bed 1... Nixie 1
Current mood: dorky

The saga of the elusive bed continues.....

I’m tired of sleeping on an air mattress. I have been sleeping (well not sleeping well) on it since the last week of September. Enough.

I decided after a few attempts to get my bed with others, that enough is enough I’m doing it myself. Well almost by myself.

I talked a co-worker into swinging by the old apt in Big Lake on her way home to help me lift them onto the top of my Elephant. While I was waiting for her I managed to get the box spring on by myself, and drag the mattress to the door ready and waiting.

I had one ratchet tie down thingy, and some rope.

It just happened to be one of the windiest days in a while.. yep, I’ve got GREAT timing.

We tied the mattresses to the elephant the best we could... have I mentioned I don’t do knots very well? I can horse tie, but that’s about it... so I horse tied the mattresses to the top of the elephant, cuz ya never know when you’re going to have to set the mattresses free if they fall down or start to spook for any reason. Whew. Good to know they won’t harm themselves in case that happens, cuz I can quickly set them free since I horse tied them!

Did you know that horse tying doesn’t necessarily keep things tight? I mean I think they loosen up a little... but I digress...

The 3 miles it took me to get to Target to buy more ratchet tie down thingys felt more like 30 miles. I moved my side mirrors to be able watch them fly um.. keep and eye on them as they flopped and bounced and slid, but stayed on.

Made it to Targetto, bought 2 more really pretty hunter orange tie down ratchet type thingys and saw that they had those theft deterrent thick plastic tie things on them in the case, and thanked my lucky stars I noticed that before I got out to the elephant with boo and had to drag her back into the store to get a scissors to get them out.

Damn I’m smart.

Got boo to the elephant, got her in, told her it was important for her to stay in her seat while mama tried to secure the mattresses better as I started to take the ratchet tie down thingys out of their expensive packaging I saw two more of those theft deterrent things, swore under my breath as I got boo back out of her car seat and ran into the store (have I mentioned I was supposed to be meeting Gretta for some wings and fun?)

Finally got the ratchet tie down thingys completely out of the case and ran back out to the car and got boo in her car seat and told her it was important.... (yeah you get the picture, there’s a lot of repeating things as a parent.. or maybe it’s just as a Nixie?)

Boo was super amazing, or maybe it was just that it was another one of those times her mama was acting like a crazy person....

You see I have 4 ratchet tie down thingys that I bought almost 3 years ago when I moved... and I never used them, I took them out of the package and couldn’t get them to start ratchet-ing... yeah I know... I r smrt. But after using the one earlier, that was already started.. I saw how they worked and knew I could figure it out.

I started to put one on, threw it over the top of the elephant (not the ratchet end.. so don’t worry I didn’t break my window) and went to the other side to secure that end.. only it wouldn’t reach.


Ok.. back to the other side to make some slack... at which point I pulled on the tie down, it went flying (guess I didn’t secure it very well) and flew back at me, hit the van parked beside me, and somehow I lost the ratchet end that was on my side.


It wasn’t under my elephant, it wasn’t under the van next to me, or under the car on the other side... it wasn’t in my elephant, it wasn’t ANYWHERE!

Yep... it’s amazing isn’t it?

At this point I’m thinking how in the hell does that happen?

So.. fighting back the frustration and trying not to teach my boo a whole bunch of words she really shouldn’t know... I decide well fuck, at least I have another one... but how the HELL does THAT HAPPEN???!!!

I start again with the other ratchet tie down thingy fighting back the voice in my head thats telling me I’m stranded, that’s it, I can’t do it, I‘m going to wreck my brand new mattress set, and probably kill somebody on the road in the process, and really feeling like a failure, fighting back tears of frustration...and it happens.

I hear “Would you like some help with that?’


So this amazing person, takes her baby to her car (parked next to mine) puts him in the car seat, and takes time to help me.

We got the first one on, and while I was climbing on top of my elephant I found the ratchet part of the other tied down that had tried to escape... HA !! BASTARD! Found you!!!! Thank god I didn’t say that out loud, I probably would’ve frightened off my help...

I thanked my helper, (another single mom) over and over and over, and she said, “Hey, I know what its like, and we can do this” and I knew by the tone in her voice she was talking about more than just my mattresses.

I tightened the shit out of the tie downs, and put two horizontally, and one vertically so I knew logically this mattress set wasn’t going anywhere.. so I should be able to chill right?

Not me. I fretted and watched, and fretted for about 20 miles, stopped got gas checked the situation, and finally trusted that they weren’t going anywhere.

Boo and I cheered when we saw the sign for Edina, and finally made it home.

The end?


Cyd and I got the mattress into the house... (we moved it end over end, cuz dammit that’s one heavy mattress with not a handle to be found anywhere... Stupid design..)

Shoved, and pulled, and pushed, and laughed, and squeezed and FINALLY got the mattress upstairs.

Next the easy part...the box spring... much lighter, much easier to handle right?


Well... until we got to the part where we shoved, and pulled and pushed, and laughed, and squee.... OH SHIT the box spring does not squeeze. OH... SHIT!!! NO!!!

So.. I slept on my mattress on the floor, defeated, while the box spring sat downstairs in the dining room mocking me.

***cut scene to nixie darkly lit, music building in the back ground and she says with her fist raised high in the air*****

“I swear, as god is my witness I’ll never go hungry again!”

wait.. that’s not it... oh who knows... I haven’t slept well since the last week of september ...

It’s the in the wind

Originally posted: Tuesday, October 09, 2007

It’s the in the wind
Current mood: restless

I’m restless.

I feel like I’m in a hurry, yet with no particular destination.

Not a stressed feeling... more like energized, excited.

Looking forward with impatience.

I think it’s the time of year.
I love seeing the changes in the leaves, and even the chill in the air, (yes this freeze baby just said that.)

I don’t like the cold, but there’s something about “crisp” weather that makes me want to move.

I want to ride horse, go shopping for big cozy clothes, drink hot chocolate after playing outside with boo boo till her little cheeks get pink. I want to go to a far away pumpkin patch that takes all day to drive there and search for the perfect one, come home and carve the most goulish face boo will let me on it, and then roast the seeds....

Growing up we never had to go to a pumpkin patch, we just took a trip out to the garden.... I like going to the “patch”. It’s just so much more of an event, and adventure, and it seems with the weather, the harder wind blows, the harder I’m being pushed towards......



It reminds me of the movie Chocolat with Johnny Depp... “Once upon a time, there was a quiet little village in the French countryside, whose people believed in Tranquilité - Tranquility. If you lived in this village, you understood what was expected of you. You knew your place in the scheme of things. And if you happened to forget, someone would help remind you. In this village, if you saw something you weren’t supposed to see, you learned to look the other way. If perchance your hopes had been disappointed, you learned never to ask for more. So through good times and bad, famine and feast, the villagers held fast to their traditions. Until, one winter day, a sly wind blew in from the North... ................”

I grew up in a town like that.

I understood what was expected of me.

I knew my place.

and I couldn’t wait to get out

My North wind was graduation and college and a boy and the overwhelming feeling there’s more... and later I found myself in another town, in a different yet similar place with very similar expectations.

and again, I felt trapped


I don’t feel trapped.

I’m happy, I’m proud of myself and my daughter. Of the struggles that come with being a parent, hell.. of just being an adult. I like who I am, where I live, my friends, being single plus one, of the quality of work I do, of the work I’m capable of, of the acting I get to do, the experiences and lessons life has to offer.

“But still the clever north wind was not satisfied. It spoke to Vianne of towns yet to be visited, friends in need yet to be discovered, battles yet to be fought...


I used to think there was something wrong with me.. that I was never satisfied, that I wasn’t happy with the “normal life” everyone else seemed to be.... but now I really think that if the “wind” didn’t push me forward, I think perhaps I would never become what I am capable of, I would have stopped back in that small town .......


Yep, I must be crazy.

Crazy about life and all that it holds, I want to see it all.........

Wednesday, November 04, 2009


Originally posted: Friday, September 21, 2007

Current mood: contemplative
Category: Romance and Relationships

I’ve been asked a couple of times now what I meant when I said ...
“I believe in soulmates, but not in the traditional sense”

“Wha?” You say

Well, lemme tell you.

I used to believe in the “one” soulmate that was somehow magically made for you... your other half, your “split apart” your “lobster”

I met my first husband while walking into a bar and grill for happy hour with some girlfriends.

I was walking in, he was walking out.

As as we passed there was something about him that made me want to know more.... it was something that I couldn’t ignore... it was that strong....

And before all of you start thinking or start mumbling to yourselves things like... “Well yeah you thought he was hot, or it had been a while or it was lust etc.”.. let me just say that while I did think he was attractive, it wasn’t that. I had seen plenty o f attractive men but none had evoked this I must meet this person, he/she is supposed to be in my life one way or another, for a couple of minutes or maybe a lifetime, who knows... all I know is I must meet this person

So I got his attention, and we set up a date. We ended up getting married 2 years later.

If you would’ve asked me then I would have told you I met my one and only “soul mate”.


Well yes, he was someone that was supposed to be in my life, someone I have learned from, but he was not meant to be in my life forever.

I sometimes wonder if I had not believed in that kind of one and only soul mate when I met him... would I have stayed as long as I did in a very volatile, abusive relationship?

I love the idea of a one and only soul mate.

I also love the idea of unicorns.

You see I do believe we have soul mates around us.. those people that you click with automatically before you even strike up a conversation, or the first time you spend time together you are so comfortable around them.. energized and peaceful all at once.

Looking at relationships and friendships what I have come to believe is that I have soul mates in my life that I know will, at least in some capacity, be in my life forever. All of these relationships are friendships. A few men, but mostly women... women seem to want to control me less.

I know it’s my perspective (cuz really what else am I going to base a belief on?) but I have not seen very many “love” relationships that have stood the test of time and are still good relationships. I know of plenty that have fallen apart, plenty that are married and feel trapped or are so miserable to each other it seems they’ve forgotten their real life goal and decided there new one is “I’m gonna force this relationship to last no matter what, I don’t care how miserable she/he makes me or I them DAMMIT! I will not give up!”

I also know of a handful of “love” relationships that have lasted and should last and unless something drastic happens they will last.

The common thing in these relationships?

Love does not tie you to someone, it bonds you to them. It is not necessarily forever. It is a choice to continue to be together as long as you are adding to their life instead of subtracting from it. There is no fear that they will leave you for someone else, or that just because you love them they are somehow now your possession. It almost all of these strong relationships I see a solid mutually respectful friendship, first. A respect for that person that for some reason seems to get lost in a “love” relationship and replaced with a sense of owe-nership.. no that’s not a spelling error.

I mean it in the sense that it seems that once it becomes a “love” relationship there is a sense that if you give your love to someone that other person now somehow owes you something... their love back, their freedom to make choices you don’t agree with, their freedom to be away from you, to spend time with other people, to watch certain tv shows, music choices, to behave the way you want them to, and think like you do.

In “friendships” it doesn’t seem this “owe-nership” exists. You continue to see this person autonomous of yourself, and you respect and like that fact.... I have never had a friendship that has so many restrictive rules, and it seems most “love” relationships come with an abundance of them.

So do Soul mates exist?

Yep... if you allow them to keep their own soul instead of gripping onto it so tightly you choke it....

The images in my head

Originally posted: Thursday, September 13, 2007

The images in my head
Current mood: restless

I think I’ve watched too many movies....although right now I can’t think of one that has the scene playing in my head.

I love storms.

I love thunder, the kind that shakes your soul, that cracks so loud that you’re sure something somewhere was just demolished.

I love warm rain, I used to walk for miles in the rain... it was almost as each drop that fell pushed me to walk farther, and the more rains soaked I became the more free I became.

Maybe it has something to do with following the rules. “Don’t go out in the rain, you’ll catch a cold.”

“Oh really? Do something I’m not supposed to? Ok! Let’s test that theory.”

The first drops always felt alien and cold... but as my clothes and hair became saturated I didn’t even notice them falling on me, just around me... like I became part of the rain.

I used to dream of kissing in the rain, passions taking over and making love as the thunder crashed.... bodies wet from not only the rain but sweat.

It’s funny how something that you feel you need to stay away from or out of (the rain) becomes so natural, so much a part of you that when it finally comes time to take off the wet clothes, that’s what feels most alien, and you want nothing more than to jump into more (rain)... a nice hot shower, to soak yourself some more......

He was watching me.

Originally posted Tuesday, September 11, 2007

He was watching me.
Current mood: geeky

I walked into the bathroom, and I’m sure now that he was watching me then.

I didn’t know that as I pulled my shirt over my head, and slid my panties down that he was there, waiting.

I turned on the water, and made sure it was just the right temperature, steaming hot.... oh... I like hot showers.

I pulled back the curtain, and stepped into the stream of hot water and sighed as I felt it on my skin.

He was watching me then.

I turned around, and let the water fall on my head, soaking the unruly mass of hair into submission if only for a short while.

His eyes were still on me.

I washed my hair, and every inch of my body.

He watched me.

I dropped the soap.

We were eye to eyes.

I screamed and jump out of the shower wet and naked not quite sure what to do.

The little bastard was there the whole fucking time... watching me.. waiting to attack... if it wasn’t for the natural born clutz I am who know what would have happened?

I grabbed the conditioner bottle and squashed him...once again averting their clever little sneak attacks.

Spiders 0
Nixie somewhere in the 100’s

A 3 hour tour

Wednesday, September 05, 2007

A 3 hour tour
Current mood: indescribable
Category: Romance and Relationships


A 3 hour phone call, gone no where.

Belch. Seriously? Yes... why yes yes I am serious!

Why would you stay on a phone call that long?

Well to understand something better.

Do you?

Actually I think I do.

Oh yeah Like what?

That fear is a bitch, and so is selfishness, and using the term “love” to your advantage. That honor is subjective to the person using the term, and apparently freedom to be who you are is not an option if you “love” someone... it means you give up “freedom”.

Is that what you believe?

Fuck no. I think that love is allowing that person to be themselves separate from you, supporting, wanting that person to be free, to live their life to the fullest, helping them do it, pushing them to move past the fear and onto the greatness, watching them grow and being by their side to be their shoulder when they need it, and be at an arms length when they need more room. I think that love means you don’t want to control another person, that you want them to choose their path, whatever that might be, and saying I will always be there, as long as I am adding to your life and taking away from it.I don’t think love means you need to choose it over something else... it’s given, it comes with no ties, but a bond. A bond of trust that no matter what you do, love remains. A bond of trust that leads you to grow and become less selfish and more giving, doing things that make you happy, and wanting to do things to make the other person happy, a fine balance that must be done without hurting or giving up yourself. Love doesn’t not mean completing another person, it means being complete all on your own, and sharing yourself with another, never “needing” that person, but wanting, choosing that person to be in your life, for who they are already and not what they can do for you.

Have you found love?

Yes, yes I have. I’ve found it. First within myself, because without loving myself I have no idea what it would mean to love, and to want to give love. I’ve found it with my boo, my family and my friends.

Yeah, I know... but what about “love”, ya know... the “companion, soul mate, partner” type love?

No. Not yet

Fly High Freebird.....

Originally posted: Tuesday, September 04, 2007

Fly High Freebird.....
Current mood: contemplative
Category: Romance and Relationshihps

I’m tired.

And before I splatter my thoughts on this blank white box, I want you all to know I’m good. I’m me, I’m strong, I’m happy....but... I’m tired.

I love being my stubborn self, as independent as I can possibly be. I want to do it myself or at least try before I even think of asking anyone else to do it for me.

Things are different this year. There’s something I’ve never had to face before, and I thought it was going to be a lot easier than it’s turned out to be.

I’m tired of being the strong one.

I just want to lay my head on someone else’s shoulder for a short while, have them stroke my hair from my face and tell me every thing’s going to be all right. Hold me close, always be there for me to count on, knowing they can count on me right back. I want to give myself completely, share everything, and give them room to fly as they do the same for me in return... I want to journey through this life with a partner, and that’s new for me, and maybe the most frustrating part... not so clear.

I still would and am choosing to be single vs. being with someone that isn’t right, or being in love with the idea of being in love... thank god I have that figured out, at least. That’s why I was single for almost 3 years before my last relationship.... but in having that last relationship, I’ve found some new gremlins in the closet, they’re too little to be monsters, but they’re shitty none the less.

I had my moments of being lonely, but generally I enjoyed being by myself, and choosing to be with my friends or my boo vs. spending time “dating”. Most importantly I hadn’t found anyone I that I was willing to sacrifice my time with my boo or friends for.

Once comforting, high school girl giddiness inducing thoughts now only evoke, an ache I wasn’t aware of before.

You see, the relationships I have had in the past were nothing worth trying again for. I mean if that is what a relationship was there was no way in hell I want any part of it. Therefore, nothing really to miss, more of a relief when they were over, and something I had held onto long before I ever was willing to let go. (yep, there’s that stubborn streak).

I’m not sure, if the ending of this last one is the dodging of a bullet, or a flash of bliss that will always be kept just out of reach. Would I have been better off if I had never seen it, still believing something like that never existed? Seeing what I see now..........Did it really exist in the first place?

There are things now I see about him that most likely would’ve ended the relationship eventually anyway. Different paths, life choices, and things I may have seen through those lovely rose colored glasses. I’m not saying he was/is a bad person, on the contrary I have not had that close of a connection with anyone ever before... it’s like planting a seed, watching this amazing flower grow and ripping the plant from the roots, and damnit, now there’s a mess.

There’s a empty place that before was perfectly fine. That didn’t know there was anything else that could be added to it.

I am missing the connection. But am I really missing the person?

I didn’t believe there was someone like him before I met him, (the freedom and the space he gave me, the comfort level between us, the laughter, the ease of the relationship BUT... still only wanting me the way HE wanted me) and I’m betting the way the world works, there’s another someone somewhere down the road that will see me for who I am, and will not like most other men I’ve met before want to put me in a jar on that little display case on their shelf, and only take me down to play with me when they want to. Always trying to keep me in line. ha ha ha ha... yeah I know me "in line"

But what if there isn’t, and now you have that empty place, what now?

I’m a free spirit.

I will not be contained... and until I find someone that can fly with me, I prefer to soar the sky alone.

Smooth Operator

Originally posted Friday, August 03, 2007

Smooth Operator
Current mood: giggly

I went to Caribou this morning... it’s a Friday morning ritual... 3 of us take turns in the office... today was my day.

Ok.. only two drinks today, one girl is not coming in I’m so on top of things I think to myself.

“Hi yeah, I’d like a Moosed Iced Chai, and a Northern LIghts cooler also Moosed, both large please.”

The nice young man repeats my order correctly, gives me my total and ends his sentence with the ever familiar “at your first window”

Huh.. there is only ONE window, he must be still half asleep, he should drink some of what he’s selling!

There were a few cars in front of me so I decide I should use my time wisely and made a call to the auto repair shop to try to set up an appointment for my poor little bug.

Yep...I’m doin’ good this morning... effecient!

It’s finally my turn, and I pull up hand the young man my card, he smiles and asks “Do you need a receipt?”

“Nope! I’m good thanks”

Suppressing a laugh and averting his eyes to the side he grabs the cooler and hands it to me.

“I think that’s a cooler, do you want to taste it to make sure?”

Thinking that’s a little odd because I actually ordered a cooler I obliged and said “Yep, that’s a cooler.”

“ahhh ok, I’m sorry” and he reaches for the drink back


“Well, you ordered a hot drink right?”

“No, I ordered the Cooler and a Iced Chai”

“Oh!, I’m sorry just a second I’ll get that” he replied again, suppressing a laugh.

somebody must have told a good joke in there or is teasing him I think as I wait much more patiently than the stuffy business man behind me seems to be doing.

A couple of minutes later, another nice young man comes to the window bearing my Iced Chai, and hands it to me with cheeks slightly red and trying unsuccessfully to hide his smirk

What in the world is going on in there? Oh well at least they are having fun while they are at work!I think as I drive off.

I get to work drinks in hand, set them down and start to settle in... I reach up to take my sunglasses off, and then it all becomes very very clear.

 Image Hosting

This is what they were laughing at.

Yep, I’m so “together” this morning I was wearing TWO pairs of sunglasses as I confidently placed my order at Caribou.

“Butt Hole”

Originally posted Wednesday, July 18, 2007 (when boo was 3)

“Butt Hole”
Current mood: amused

***In the car after the gym driving home*****

“Mama? Did you put it in my butt hole?”

Sheer shock and wild horrible thoughts running through my head..... where did she even hear that.... who said that..... what happened ......OH MY GOD!!!!!!


“What baby? What are you talking about it?”

“That thing, did you put it in my butt hole?”

Ok, this is not going anywhere.... random horrible thoughts still running through my head along with the humor of the situation, I mean really, what three year old talks about a butt hole?... OK FOCUS... figure out what she’s talking about AND THEN laugh hysterically when it’s all about nothing, she’s spent time with people you don’t know when she was with her dad, I’m sure they are great people nothing to worry about, nothing to worry about.... did I mention my horrible imagination?


“Baby, I don’t know what you are asking honey, I don’t understand, can you tell me differently?”

“The number mama..... did you put it in my butt hole or somewhere else?”

“OH!!!!, the number from the gym?”

“Yeah mama, where did you put it?”

“I pinned it to your shirt, and yes I put it through the BUTTON hole” (when I sign in at the gym they give us matching laminated numbers to make sure the right parent goes home with the right kid.)

Laughing hysterically (see you just have to wait for it) and breathing normally again, heart rate coming down, the article or show “Kids say the Darndest Things” pops into my head.....boy do I have a doozy for you guys!

Tuesday, November 03, 2009

I learned....

Originally posted Monday, July 16, 2007

I learned....
Current mood: happy

Last night when I got back from my parents house, I took care of a few things that I’ve been neglecting...

Like what Nixie?

Well, like the mosquito farm I seem to have been growing in the backyard inside boo boo’s pool.

DISGUSTING... all those squirming baby squitos.....I didn’t even want to touch it.

Plus the army of spiders that are in my backyard all around the pool and boo boo’s sandbox!


I stood there for awhile looking at the disgusting” farm” trying to figure out how to dump it, too heavy to lift.. I could just stand on the edge and let the water drain... but... um... ewww disgusting squirming baby squitos will then be on my feet and..........




OOOH! I’ll just put the hose in there and eventually it will siphon itself out..... right?

Hose in pool? CHECK! I should suck on it to get the siphoning started I think.

....For a second until I look at the hose, and picture myself sucking and then getting disgusting squirmy squito babies in my MOUTH and then in my TUMMY and.......!!!


All right, we’ll just let gravity do it’s work.

Off to attack the growing spider army that’s outside the foundation of the house.

It’s like they are building their forces, to eventually just eat through the house, I mean there are those funnel webs all around the foundation on the landscape rocks. Those little bastards are watching me.. I just know it. and at this thought I shudder.

Grabbed the chemicals off the shelf and started spraying like I was a cowboy in the old westerns my dad watches all of the time. Yes siree, shootin’ from the hip, wishin’ I had two guns. Pulling the trigger so fast my hand would cramp up and then I’d just become a southpaw shooter.

Pow pow pow, and then I’d get one of those little bastards in my sight, shoot it and laugh maniacally... “ha ha ha take that you little fucker!”

At which point I turn to my right and see my daughter watching me, eyes wide in disbelief.



“Yes, baby?”

“Whatcha doin?”

“Killin’ spiders baby.”

“Why are you laughing mama?”

“Because it makes me happy baby” God, I must look like a crazy woman.

“Ok, get em mama! GET EM!” she shouts jumping around “There’s one... there’s another one!”

I sprayed and sprayed and sprayed, and went back to check the mosquito farm situation.

Nothing. Not moving, not siphoning nadda.


“MAMA! MAMA! There’s a spider on my sandbox! GET IT! GET IT!”

“You get it” hoping she would, I really don’t want to pass my arachnophobia to her.

Crap ok, ok.. “Hang on baby”

During the time I was figuring out what to do with the mosquito farm, she had seen 6 more spiders on or in her sand box.


I grabbed the spray and sprayed around her sandbox since it the package said it was safe for kids and pets after the spray has dried.

Ok... mosquito farm.


I ended up using one of her plastic chairs to squash the side down and let the water drain, until it got to the point where I needed to pick it up and dump it to get the rest out.

I was thinking how smart and resourceful I was because I had managed to empty the pool without getting squirmy wormy squito babies all over me.

I had dump the last couple of gallons out, so I tried to pick it up and over, but lacking in the muscle department I could only get it up half way (minds outta the gutter boys) and then I had to hold it up, walk around to the front and pull it the rest of the way over... all the way... and I felt the cool, slimy squirmy wormy squito baby water run over the top of my feet.

I must have put the hose back together in record time to wash the disgusting farm off my legs and feet.

Finished scrubbing the scum out of the pool and stored it upside down with a chair on it to keep it from blowing away, all the while repeating my mantra... “squito babies are not burrowing into your skin to infest your body, you will not wake up or dream of looking at your legs and see a squirming mass underneath the skin.....squito babies are not burrowing.......”

Anyone want my imagination for a while?

Didn’t think so.

OK... work done, let’s have some fun.

I grabbed the pliers and moved boo boo’s bike seat up cuz she’s grown so much she actually needs a new one, but this wil do for now.

And what did I learn?

I learned that I will spray for spiders inside AND outside on time to stop the army from building.

I learned that I will empty the pool out each time boo boo uses it, instead of thinking we’ll be right back in it tomorrow, the water won’t be warm enough if I dump it each time, must keep boo from hypothermia.... but squirmy wormy squito babies are a bigger threat

And most importantly and at least more intriguing?

I learned that my tongue is somehow involved in the process of using a pliers. I can not seem to turn a nut without sticking my tongue out and in the direction it’s turning.. I even tried not to.

Learning: to gain (a habit, mannerism, etc.) by experience, exposure to example, or the like; a

Originally posted Thursday, June 28, 2007

Current mood: cheerful
Category: Life

I was asked to tell something about learning to be a mommy....

I didn’t have the “natural instincts” I never really wanted to have a baby, or at least I wasn’t sure if I did. I was an extremely great auntie and was satisfied with that. I always told my sisters that I wanted to be that eccentric aunt, the one that traveled all over the world and brought the kids back unique things from other cultures, one that they could laugh with, tell anything to, and always, always look forward to seeing, because they knew there would be exciting tales to be told.

Learning to be a mom.... well I think I kinda lost myself for awhile because I didn’t really know what being a “mom” meant.

Growing up I watched my mother and she didn’t have another life outside of being a mom and a housewife and in an unhappy marriage. Cleaning, cooking, doing work on the farm. She didn’t enjoy us, I don’t remember her playing with us, she was too busy, there was too much that needed to be done. I rarely remember her smiling, she wasn’t happy. That was her life. I didn’t want to become that.

I only had that one idea of what being a mom was, and maybe because of that idea I felt like after having boo I no longer existed. That I was secondary to boo, I could no longer do stuff I wanted to do, only things that I “had” to do.

“Mom” and “Linda” were like oil and water.

I fought hard against it. I hated it the first couple of months. I was alone. I found no joy in this tiny human being that was in my care. I found hard work and sleepless nights, days without showers because I when I put her down she would cry or want to nurse. When she cried it made me feel like a failure, I would look in the mirror at this “mom” I had become and I hated the way she looked. Postpartum marshmallow belly, unkempt hair, bags so large under my eyes I could’ve parked my volkswagen in them. I seemed to have aged 10 years in a couple of weeks.

My days and nights consisted of changing her, feeding her, burping her, there was no difference between them except for the sun and moon.

Maybe I had a harder time adjusting to it because of loosing so much blood after I delivered her, I was in the hospital for five days and then told I shouldn’t do much for two weeks to make sure I didn’t start bleeding again. I was so weak, and maybe the weakness of my body weakened my mind.

I didn’t feel confident in this new life. The thought of taking her out to the store to get what we needed scared me, I wasn’t sure exactly what I was afraid of, I just was. I was used to running into the store quick grabbing what I needed.


Well now I had this tiny person in tow.

Big deal?

It was to me.

Every time I put her in her car seat she cried. You wouldn’t believe the stares and judgements you get from people in public. The comments “If I wanted to hear a screaming baby, I be baby sitting.”

Really? Oh well then... I’ll stop pinching her right now so she’ll be quiet.

Shopping with a cart was a whole new experience to me, much less shopping with a cart and a baby. Pushing the cart down the aisles, baby crying, and then... then you notice the smell and the brown stain appearing on the side of her leg.


I start heading to the bathroom to change her and I get stopped by a clerk who says I can not take my cart into the bathroom, it’s a fire hazard.

I have to take boo out of the cart (still in the car seat) and dig out my diaper bag from the bottom of the cart underneath all of my items. Go into change her, realize I don’t have another outfit for her and this one has poop all over it.

Wait....I have one in the cart!

Put a diaper back on her put her back in the car seat, to go out and get the outfit out of the cart and decide to just pay for it later. (It used to bother me, the people that would open a bag of chips or put on new shoes and pay for them later)

I emerge from the bathroom, diaper bag over shoulder packed with extra everything except the badly needed outfit, baby in car seat carrier in the other hand crying again of course because she’s back in the car seat.

No cart.

Where the f@#% did the cart go?

I went up to a cashier and asked her if she knew where the cart that was sitting outside of the bathroom went.

Thoroughly annoyed snapping her bubble gum she says “How am I supposed to know? I’m working here.”

“My stuff, all the stuff, I was just about done, he said I couldn’t take it into the bathroom with me, I had to change her....”

“Like, I don’t know, ok? It probably got put back to be re-stocked, ya know, like a deserted cart?”

“But I just had to change her”

“Um. well... you can have another cart.”

And that little exchange, that little bump in the road was enough to make me cry right along with boo crying in her car seat.

I grabbed another cart, tears streaming down my face and started over.

I learned to cram even more things in a diaper bag after that. I also learned that if I was shopping and the cart was full and I was almost done shopping, she could wait to be changed, a little poop on the butt has never killed anyone.

Ahhh if I only knew then what I know now.

“I’m not afraid of you.”

Originally posted Thursday, June 21, 2007

“I’m not afraid of you.”
Current mood: accomplished

These are the words I taught my daughter to say when something scared her, pretty much as soon as she was able to speak.

She would stand square, teetering just a little at the tender age of 18 months and point her tiny little finger at whatever she thought was scary, and in the biggest most authoritative voice she could make she would say “I nod fraid you!”

I wanted to teach her right away that she didn’t need rescuing. From anything. That whatever life threw at her she could stand her ground and make it through.

She also new that if it was too big to handle and she tried but couldn’t quite make it, I would be there to help her, but only if she tried on her own first.

I don’t want to pass on to her the thought that she isn’t capable. That she needs someone in her life to do certain things.

Too many times we’re told by someone that we can’t do something for any number of reasons they can think of, too many times we are shown that this is a “man’s” job or this is a “woman’s”. Yes, I believe it is easier for a man to lift heavy objects than it is a woman, but we don’t have to rely just upon our muscle.

Problem solve. Look at the situation differently. Can’t pick something up? Well then how about putting something under it to roll it, or slide it? I have almost always been able to move things somehow or another on my own if I really needed to. Even the heaviest of objects.

Spiders? My phobia... I deal.
And the more I deal the weaker fear gets. (or at least that’s what I keep telling myself....) :-p

I remember in high school I signed up for shop class instead of home economics because they were going to be teaching sewing. I already knew how to sew, at least the basics. I didn’t know how to change my oil in my car.

I talked to the shop teacher and he promised that that was one thing he would be covering, so I signed up.

We ended up taking apart and putting back together a Briggs and Straton lawn mower engine.

I was the first one to do it, and I did it correctly.

Never did learn how to change my oil in my own car.

I don’t know why I didn’t keep pressing to learn, but I stopped, and now I just pay someone else to do it, which works too I guess.

I don’t want to stop pressing forward for things I need or want to learn or do in my life.

Sometimes it seems as if I have, and the reason is because of fear.
Fear of failure, fear of being ridiculed, fear of losing what I’ve already worked hard to attain.

A situation or roadblock came up yesterday in something I’m trying to achieve, and instead of saying “Well, that’s it, I knew I didn’t have what they were looking for, I can’t do it differently” and giving in, I decided to push myself and look at it differently, try to move what needed moving a different way.

I took a chance, and today, well it paid off, I’m still moving forward, still mumbling my mantra

“I nod fraid you!”

It’s the night that looms large, threatening to swallow me whole

Originally posted Wednesday, June 13, 2007

It’s the night that looms large, threatening to swallow me whole
Current mood: exhausted

I think some of the hardest moments of being a single mom, are night times.

The nights where bedtimes are a struggle, and there’s nothing you can do, but wait it out.

Sitting in the dark, listening to your child cry evokes certain emotions no one wants.

I dont’ know which ones come first actually, but they are heartache, frustration, anger, fear, resentment, and sometimes emptiness.

Heartache I’m pretty sure most of you get. No one ever wants to hear someone they love cry. The struggle comes from knowing that you’ve done everything you’re supposed to for the “bedtime routine” knowing that she’s not lacking... she’s gone potty, she’s got her water, she’s been read a book, given hugs and kisses and tucked in.

If she is acting, she’s a grammy award winner hands down. The pathetic sobs and occasional “mama I want you” actually feel like they are somehow directly connected to my heart...

Frustration comes from knowing that you’ve done everything, she’s not lacking and still she’s crying. There’s nothing you can do but wait it out. And the sobs seem to echo off the walls, bouncing in your thoughts wondering if she might possibly be really sad about something, wondering if I’m letting her down, not consoling her if she hurts.

Anger comes into play pretty quickly after that. Knowing that she does know how to manipulate, knowing that if she cries there’s a chance I might come back in her room, and she gets what she wants. I hate manipulation. I hate how loud her cries seem, and worse I hate how they feel. I hate not having anyone to distract me from the situation or just sit here with me, beside me, telling me I’m doing the right thing, it’s all going to be ok.

Fear starts to show itself, when the anger pushes you so far that you’re afraid you will act out of anger. Yell too harshly for the crime, shut the door to her room and leave her in her own fear of being isolated with god knows what monsters she sees in the shadows. Fear that you’re failing as a parent.

Resentment... oh that ugly word. I will never resent having her ever, I resent that I can’t just go for a walk, that I’m chained to the house, I resent not knowing what to do, not being confident in my parenting, not having anyone to do this with me....that......and can’t give children sleeping pills!!!!!!

Emptiness is what I feel after I’ve had those ugly thoughts. How can you be angry at that tiny little being? She’s not really trying to drive me nuts, she’s just doing her job as a 3 year old. The screams and sobs have tugged at my heart, closed off my throat, and I want to cry. I want to talk to another adult, and I feel alone. I think this is about the only time I ever feel lonely as a single mom. And it feels big enough to swallow me whole.

And just when you think you can’t take it anymore, that you’re just about ready to start crying with her...there it is... finally..... through sobs... a smooth rhythm starting... the rhythm of her breath as she finally sleeps from pure exhaustion.

I peek into her room, so very quietly, afraid my own breath will start the madness over again, to see her angelic little face, lips parted and in a pout, hair plastered to her forehead from sweat and tears, and all I want to do is take back every horrible thought I had, pick her up in my arms and never let her go.

Instead, I tuck her back in, kiss her very gently on her head and whisper, I love you, I will always love you no matter what.

Spider Chronicles

Tuesday, July 12, 2005
dah dant... dah dant.. dah dah dah dah dant (Jaws theme)

I had a ginormous stalker spider chasing me last night....(very phobic) it was crazy huge, and I swear, it was the size of a mouse...well including the legs!

had just put the boo to bed, got a glass o water, and sat down on the couch, lights off, tv on, book on my lap... and out of the corner of my eye I see this HUGE “thing” run across the floor. And I could tell by the way it moved, it was my arch nemisis... GINORMOUS SPIDER! Now, I knew I had to “get” it because if I didn’t I wouldn’t sleep. (they are tricky little creatures, they wait till you’re sleeping to “get” you, it must have thought I wouldn’t see it’s ginormous body speeding across the floor.. but HAH! I did)

I took a deep breath, scanned the room for a weapon, and spied one of Ellas wooden puzzles... now this means I’m going to have to get close to the thing, which I’m really not happy about, but it must be done...I moved slowly towards it, shaking the whole way, slapped the wooden puzzle board down on it hard... held my breath as I picked it up and the freakin thing was still alive!!!! CRAZY MUTANT GINORMOUS SPIDER!!!!

So I took the corner of the WOODEN puzzle and slammed it down on it fast, and missed.. and was about to pass out (because of the holding the breath thing) and did it again, and again, and again screaming DIE! .....I must have looked like some mad women in a crazy b movie..... anyway.. when I finally stopped and looked.. there were no spider reamains to be found... which means IT’S STILL ALIVE AND STALKING ME, laughing at me, calling all it’s little freaky spider friends to come watch this crazy lady!

I jumped on the couch (not the cushin part but the back of it to get a better view, incase he was calling his friends to attack me from behind)

Think, think, think I said to myself..I gotta find it, or I won’t sleep... oh and thank god ella wasn’t awake to see her mother acting like some possessed murderer! Ok.. hairspray would get it! SHIT... I don’t have hairspray... damn it.. why can’t I be more of a girl!!!! ????? .... ok.... um.. starch! UM NO... what in the world would I have to starch?????? Damn, why can’t I dress more professional?........ok.......OOOOHHH OOOOH WAIT!!!!!! I picked up a can of RAID the other day cuz it was on SALE, even though I hate those chemicals... I HAVE RAID!!! Thank GOD I am neurotic!!!!!! :-D

So.... I got the can o chemicals.... gathered some “gusto” and started cautiously moving boo’s toys out of the way... positive that at any moment the ginormous spider was going to jump out from under one of them and attack! I had just about moved all of them, and as I was pulling the basket away from the wall......there it was... laughing at me! And I aimed, held my breath, and squeezed the trigger (on the raid can silly) and sprayed... HA! I GOT IT! AND THEN........

It started crawling towards me as if to get me with it’s last dying breath... so I squeezed the trigger again.. and held it until there was a large white circle of chemical on my carpet... with a large squrimy mutant spider in the middle, and didn’t stop until it stopped moving......

And that my friend.. was a night in the life of a single mama scared of spiders.......

Spider Army part 2 “WAR”

Originally posted Friday, September 02, 2005


We all know from my infamous GINORMOUOS SPIDER story that myself and the arachnoids don’t get along.
You see they insist on tracking me down and terrorizing me, and I, well... I guess I repeatedly just about pee my pants everytime I see one.

I moved from the apartment with the GINORMOUS MUTANT SPIDERS into a new apartment hoping to rid myself of the spider army once and for all.

Well....Not so much.

The place I moved into is an older house in which I rent out the bottom (main level) 3BR apartment. Great character in this place.. it has the dark thick kick boards and archways that are usually found in older homes. And it is close to the lake, I can look out my living room window and see the lake, it’s a great view!

Uh... huh... I know.. lake, older house... and I should be expecting spiders right?
My response?

“Hi... have we met? My name is Linda.. yes, yes I do like my world.. would you like to come in?”

Well anyway, I have lived in the new place for about 2 weeks now, and have seen at least 3 spiders. They are at least all of a different variety, so I can safely(?) assume that it is not the spider army from the old apartment. I think.

The first spider encounter in the new place went rather smoothly.. (my mom was with me and I calmly called her over to rescue me from hideous large spder) and she said “Oh Linda... it’s just a little spider, squash it!”

Now I’m 35... you would think she would know that the previous 31 years of telling me that exact phrase has not really worked and that it probably NEVER WILL.

The second spder encounter happend later one night... (tricky bastards.. always waiting for the dimly lit hours.) I had just purchased a fabolous desk for my office/3rd bedroom and successfully loaded it into and out of my VW Bug (no small feat, small bug) and put my boo to bed, and started the task of assembling desk... with hutch.. and shelves... oh yeah, I’m a master carpenter now... sans penis. I knew that a penis wasn’t a necessary tool for construction!!!! Nothing can stop me now!

I was screwing the right hutch part onto the base of the desk and saw something black and bug like out of the corner of my eye. I was concentrating on the task at hand (putting the desk together with no power tools, just a regular screwdriver, makes for long work)

As I was turning the last screw in, my brain started to turn as well and kicked into “OH SHIT! IS THAT A SPIDER?” mode.... so I froze, took a breath, and slowly turned my head towards the black legged thing in question..... OH SHIT!!!!! IT IS A SPIDER! (Freakin things... new I was concentrating on the desk.. it probably been watching waitng to attack for a while)
I frantically scanned the room for something close by to kill it with ( my mom would have just slapped the thing with her bare hand..... Mommy?)

I couldn’t move too far away because it was on the move.. and I didn’t want to lose sight of it. You know... the keep an eye on your enemy thing.

There was nothing in reach so I realized I was going to have to use what I had in my hand... my screwdriver. Small surface area with which to make contact, HUGE room for the possiblity of missing the freakin thing. Well... I had no choice so I pulled my hand back, held my breath and brought the screwdriver handle down on it... kind of. I must have hit some part of it, it dropped to the floor and stayed there, we had a staring contest for about a minute and it didn’t move so I must have killed it..... ...........or did I?

I went back to work on the desk. I had to get behind it to attach the corner shelf part and realized that I was by the corpse of the spider... or at least I should have been F*@%ER! He was only playing dead Damn I hate those tricky bastards! Now I don’t know where it is, but I’m trying to convince myself that I wounded it mortally and it made it back to it’s little spidey friends and told them with it’s last audible breath, and showed them that if you mess with the new occupant you will die!

Well that must not have worked.

This morning I woke up.

They sent the freakin four star general!

This spider, this BIGGER THAN GINORMOUS, FOUR STAR GENERAL SPIDER was directly above me on the ceiling.

I wanted to pretend I was dreaming or more correctly having a nightmare... but no... no... the F*@%King thing was real.. staring at me with all of it’s beady freaky eyes... each leg ready to pounce on me from any direction (they have eight you know) OR... maybe the F*@%King thing was waiting until I yawned and was going to kill me by suicide? Jumping into my mouth so I choked to death. (did you know you sallow 8 spiders a year?) SHIT!

I slowly moved out of bed, fully convinced this is was it. The spider was going to win.

When I got out from under him, I moved as quickly as I could and pleaded with my brain to wake the fuck up, and remember where the RAID was.... UNDER THE SINK!!! YAY!!! Not still lost in the sea of boxes that have yet to be unpacked.

I cautiously entered the bedroom, Raid can raised high, trigger finger ready.

Now how the hell am I going to get this thing... he has chosen his battle position well. If I spray him he will jump on me from above. I must get on the bed off to one side.. AH HA! He’s hoping I will slip and fall off of my satin comforter! BASTARD! I know how they think!

I carefully got on the bed and sprayed... knowing full well that I wouldn’t have the pleasure of watching the General die, because he would jump down and run away before I could get him completely covered in the foamy pile of chemical he so badly deserved. And I sprayed, and he did..... he jump down, and crawled away.. and I continued to spray in all the crevices close by until I was breathing in Raid... ok.. not good, Raid for spider, not Linda. Um... I felt a little ill. But I knew that the if the General made it back to the Spider Army Lair that there would be hell to pay, so I sprayed around the doors and the windows and went into the office and sprayed there just incase that little tattle telling bastard spider that summoned the General in the first place was still alive.. and I sprayed saying my mantra.. die mutherf*@%er DIE!

Oh it’s on now.....
I am stopping at the store on my way home and I’m purchasing bug bombs.. it’s a 3 day weekend.. no one’s going to be there except the Spider Army.. and they will DIE!!!!!!!!

Oh... and just for all you people whom the spiders have tricked into thinking they are harmless.. here is a prime example.. this spider dude has a website.. on spiders.. he’s been missing since 1999... HELLO? THE SPIDERS GOT HIM!!!!

Saturday, October 24, 2009

It’s about the boo

Originally posted summer of 2007

It’s about the boo
Current mood: calm

I am going to my parents cabin this weekend.

You could say it was by choice, and I could disagree, but the reality of the situation is that it is in fact my choice.

You see although I know it won’t be fun for me necessarily I know that my daughter will enjoy her time with her gramma and papa, and that is the reason I choose to go.

Yes there are other things I would rather be doing, but it’s not always about me, sometimes I need to do what is great for my daughter and inevitably when I do that I seem to learn something about myself in the process.

I plan on bringing my laptop, a book, and a positive outlook, all though right now it doesn’t sound too positive huh?

Maybe this my own little pep talk to myself... I seem to do that a lot, being the only adult in the house right now while boo is in the tub, who else am I going to talk to?

My parents are aging, they will not be around forever, and they will not always be active. It is not my right to take the time that they are here, alert and active away from my daughter just because I would prefer to go out with my friends, or go dancing or take boo to the zoo etc.

And granted as I’ve said before they are not always that healthy to be around, but last weekend I had my voice with them, and I will continue to do so. When they are too much to be around because they are lost in their on little world, I will pack up and leave early. That simple.

I cherished my time with my grandma. In fact she is the most awesome person I have ever met in my entire life. She is boo’s namesake.

I remember sitting in her lap when I was a child, a very small child and knowing without a doubt that she loved me, no matter what I did. Almost all of my cherished childhood memories involve her or my grandpa. It helped shape who I am today, and I am so thankful for the time I had with them.

I learned so many things from them, about life, about people, about myself. My grandma Ella gave me unconditional love, respect, and hope for my future. She never criticized, or blamed and was always genuinely interested in my life. In fact if it wasn’t for her I dont’ think I would have had much physical or emotional affection in my life growing up.

She would find humor in situations that needed it, and taught me how to laugh at myself, how to pick myself up when I was feeling low without blaming others or myself and just looking at a situation differently. She voiced how she thought my father or mother was behaving and that it was not my fault.

I love her and miss her more than I could ever communicate in words, still to this day.

And my grandpa taught me how to build things... he was a tinker, he worked and repaired and built anything that was needed. I remember him working out in the garage and instead of shooing us away (my sister and I) he would have us “help” him. I remember the first thing I ever built was a giant “A”. He was working with wood, I don’t remember what he was building or repairing, but he gave me some wood scraps, a hammer and some nails I must’ve decided an “A” was somehow badly needed. He didn’t stop there, he taught me how to be proud of what I did, and to follow through with things. Just coming up with the idea, and putting it together wasn’t enough I had to see it through, finish it. I had to make sure it was smooth, sanded, and then I had to paint it. I remember I picked this bright, bright green color, and when I was done he never said why didn’t you build something useful, or pick a more common color, or let me get off by not following through to the end.

I think grandparents have a different level of patience, than parents do, and why wouldn’t they? They’ve been through this before.

My wish is that my daughter creates memories with her grandparents like I did with mine.

In order for that to happen I need to be able to give them the time to be together.

And seriously, it’s not hurting me to give up a weekend here and there, for a lifetime of memories for my boo.

Be who you are nothing more nothing less

originally posted Monday, June 11, 2007

Be who you are nothing more nothing less
Current mood: contemplative
Category: Romance and Relationships

If somebody would have told me that I would be single at the age of 37 I would’ve believed them.

If somebody would’ve told me that I would be single at the age of 37 plus one, I would’ve argued with them that there was no way that would ever happen to me. I would never let that happen to me. I would simply choose differently.

I was 20 what the hell did I know about life?


Single plus one....

You hear of people enjoying being single, dating, no responsibilities, loving life, living free and easy.

Ahhhh.... but single plus one is a whole different story.

Single plus one takes all of those things, and changes it drastically. To the point that you wonder what direction your life is going in, if you are forever doomed to be alone, with this bundle of joy, which I think should be more accurately coined bundle of work, but totally worth it... but I digress...

How did I get here then you may be asking yourself.


Life happens. You can have it all planned out, and more often than not it doesn’t turn out that way.

I could go into stories about my childhood and why I made the choices I did, but I’m not sure that really gets us anywhere. The fact is, this is my life, these are the choices I have made, and this is my journey. It’s like everyone else’s in the fact that their are ups and downs, fear, loss, happiness. It’s not like everyone else’s because I am doing this on my own, finding myself, trying to be a role model for my daughter, and fighting societies view of what it means to be a single mother. Let me tell you, there almost always seems to be this fear of a single mother that is strong, determined to be the best do the best for her family that puts herself and her child first. Most people I meet want to know why I’m single, and more importantly why I’m not looking for a man.

Oh dear lord... a man... now what would I do with one of those?

The reason I am single is because I am not willing to settle. I want someone to walk with me through this life. I don’t want a daddy, or another child, I am not a possession, or arm candy. I am trying to make it on my own with my daughter and myself, focusing on that vs. trying to find a “man” to come riding up on his proverbial white horse and “save” me.

I don’t need saving.

My daughter doesn’t need a new daddy. She has one. Granted he’s not the best father in the world, and I’m hoping his future performance as a father is better than his past, but he is her father.

Dating... Dating used to be something that was easy, fun and a great way to meet new people and spend time with them, and maybe eventually meet that someone who sees you as an equal, a partner and finds you so amazing that they choose to walk through life with you.

I have single girlfriends, some are completely single nothing to tie them down (as we all were at one time or another) and some are single, but have major responsibilities i.e., children, jobs, aging parents etc.

I don’t think that women are more or less attractive based on where they are in their life.

I think it’s about who they are and knowing who they are and whether or not they choose to move forward or remain stagnant. Or rely on someone else to make them happy.

I’ve been challenged lately by the thought that all men are looking for that perfect 20 something girl with no strings, an open future and no baggage. And because of this, I will never find someone, and never find happiness.

Sometimes it’s easy to get sucked into that idea.

But for those that know me well they know most of the time I don’t really care.

You see I have a goal for myself. It might not seem like that big of a deal to most of you, but to me, it’s huge.

I want to be independent. I want to be financially independent. I want to be able to choose who I spend time with based on the person they are, and if we are headed in the same direction or not. Not driven by some other possibly subconscious reason.

Most of the time I am not “looking for” my next relationship. I am trying to figure out how to make my future better for me, and my boo. How I can own my own home, even after the realtor tells me “It takes two incomes, there’s not many people... “single moms”... who can buy a home on their own”

Why the hell not?

I think that if I can concentrate on improving myself, my situation, I can do it.

I refuse to accept that the only happily ever after in this world involves two people meeting falling in love and living happily ever after.

I think that is ridiculous actually.

I think that too many people rush into a relationship or concentrate on finding one that they miss most of their life. Always looking forward to that one particular destination.

I accept that my happily ever after means living my life with grace, compassion, understanding, honesty, and love.

Love in all of it’s forms.

This doesn’t make my happily ever after less than what seems to be accepted.

Actually I think it might make more sense.

I have been in relationships, horrible, wrong relationships, because I thought I should be in one. I was supposed to be in one and if I wasn’t, there was something wrong with me, somehow I was less than.

I was talking to a co-worker of mine about why so many relationships fail. How can people go from loving one another so much to in some cases wishing that person gone... even dead.

How does that happen?

Maybe it’s because we feel so rushed to get to that destination, to our happily ever after, that we see only what we choose to in one another. And most of the time it pertains to romantic relationships almost exclusively. I mean think about it.

I meet someone whom I have no romantic interest in, because they are the same sex or opposite (depending on whichever side of the fence you’re on) and this person seems great. I make plans, start hanging out, or chatting more often. The relationship, the friendship moves forward if this person treats me with respect, honor, trust, and genuine care for each other’s feelings.

If this new friend does something, or says something I don’t agree with, treats me or my other friends with disrespect I call them out on it. I don’t put up with it.

In romantic relationships that I’ve either been in or been on the outside looking in, the “bad” behavior is either overlooked or explained away or sure to be changed in the near future.

Inevitably the relationship fails, but not after it’s gone on much longer than it would have if it was a non romantic relationship.

Stop rushing.

Stop racing some invisible clock.

Stop trying to impress.

Be who you are, nothing more nothing less.

If I don’t know who I am and are concentrating more on who is going to love me, find me worthy, I need to stop. Stop and find worth in myself.

Make my own happily ever after.

People will make the journey with me, some the whole way, and others only for a short time.

As long as I have found myself, know myself, and am true to myself no one will be able to change my story.

No one can take away my Happily Ever After.

Perception... taught by pint sized professor....

originally posted Sunday, June 10, 2007

Perception... taught by pint sized professor....
Current mood: grateful

I have the best little girl in the world.

Sometimes I forget she’s only three.

I went to the airport today to pick up my nephew, the “unaccompanied minor”.

We all know how directionally challenged I can be, and I joked with Mo on my way into the airport about remembering where I parked my car.

“Write it down” she said as we hung up with a giggle.

His flight got in at 2pm, which meant boo and I needed to get to the airport an hour early just like we would if we were taking a trip seeing as how we had to go through, check-in, get “boarding passes” for both of us, go through security to meet my nephew at the gate and sign for him, sorta like a fedex package, or the exchange of a prisoner, which of course I found humours but I was dreading the thought of this because I had to do this with boo. How was she going to be? Was she going to throw a tantrum, cry?..... would be so much easier without her.

Determined to not have another parking ramp incident I parked on the edge of the ramp, as not to venture too far into the dark recesses for fear of never returning again.

Boo and I made our way into the building with ease, and started to stand in line for check-in.

Long line... ugh... this is not going to go well, it would be so much simpiler without boo.

Hey.....wait, I’m not actually checking bags, I don’t need to stand here, just go up to the person available while everyone else is actually checking their bags.... damn, I’m so smart sometimes!

Success! Skipped a long line, got our fake boarding passes, and proceeded to our second long line to go through security.

As we waited boo burned off her excess energy that seems all too common in those small in stature by spinning like a ballerina, and singing.

I find her amusing most times, but I nervously glanced around to make sure she wasn’t getting on anyone’s nerves.

Hmm... I’ve always wondered what it would be like to take a trip with her, I’ve told myself so many times that because I have her, I’m limited in what I can do.. trapped.. and yet so far this doesn’t seem so difficult do

I feel a tug on my pants “Mama, I want to fly on a plane” and I’m back to the moment

“We will baby, someday you and I will fly together, we’ll go on a trip ok?” and for the first time I actually believed it.

Everytime I have those moments I feel a little lighter, a little stronger, a little less trapped.

And at that I caught my breath.

There it is. I thought it.


It always comes back to that word.

That feeling.

The feeling that dug it’s home deep inside me the day I read the positive result on the home pregnancy test like a worm burrows into an apple to devour what it can and leave the rest to rot.

It’s days like today that I learn.

It’s days like today that I learn because I am ready to be present in the moment, and accept, truly accept, the pint sized professor that has thankfully graced my life with her presence.

Being single plus one is mostly greeted with that look of pity.

Along with averted eyes, and that noise

“tsk...tsk... that poor girl, if only she wouldn’t have made such a mistake her life would be so full of possiblities. No man is going to want her now, she’s damaged goods, she comes with baggage, who will ever want to raise someone elses bratty kid... She’ll never go anywhere, she’s given herself such limited choices now...tsk... tsk...such a shame...tsk.. tsk...”

And then that feeling has found it’s food source, and digs it’s nest a little deeper inside your head....tsk.. tsk... trapped.

But then there are days like today.

When I realize the only one stopping me from doing anything in my life is ME. The only cage that surrounds me is the one I’ve built.

Not my boo.

Not the responsiblity of having boo.

Not the “burden” of having boo.

Not all of the time she needs, that I have to give, because she is my boo.

My daughter handled herself better today at the age of 3 than most grown ups I know, myself included.

As we went through security, she marveld at everything that was happening around her, she greeted people with smiles, and made them laugh out loud while standing... waiting... standing... stressing... looking at their watches... sighing heavily... they all stopped, to watch my boo.

Full of life, full of smiles, full of laughter.

And I let go and played with her.

We made it to the gate, and watched the giant airplanes come and go, and all were greeted with that same wonder and excitement. She found money on the ground, a simple thing, pennies, and as I watched her pick it up, try to put it in her tiny jeans pocket only to drop it and try it again without anger or frustration but determination, I smiled and looked up only to see more people watching her, smiling.

When boo had successfully placed her pennies in her pocket we found my nephew and he was greeted by boo running and jumping in his arms yelling “My Casey!! My Casey!!! Mama it’s my Casey!!!”

I signed for him and we were off to get his luggage. Not bad, so far this is not bad at all boo and I could actually do this.

I looked at my watch. Not bad. We’ve been here an hour, and all we have to do is get the luggage and be on our way.

We got to baggage claim and on the way boo championed the dreaded escaltor monster. I like to let her try things on her own, find her own path, her own way of doing things. She would stop dead at the start and wait, find her timing, hold her breath and take that step. She did it alone with only an occaissonal helping hand from mama to steady her when she lost her balance.

Carousel 10.

There we waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And watched the bags go round and round as boo cheered Casey on....

“Get it Casey Get it!!! You can do it Casey!!! Get it!!! Get it!!!”

Only there was no suitcase to be found.

The airline had lost his luggage.

Ok... another line, she’s going to get out of hand pretty soon, because I’m starting to get tired of standing around waiting, she’s got to be ready to come unglued soon. And this is why I can’t do this, can’t travel, things like this happen, I’ll have to wait until she’s older.

We stood in the lost luggage line for what seemed an eternity, and as the grown ups grumbled and bitched and complained and got angry....there was boo....She started “catching” the unclaimed luggage still on the carousel with a lanard Casey had. Then she moved onto making faces at herself in the shiny chrome of the poles that they use to rope off areas. And I looked around to see people watching her, smiling.

We found out there was another flight coming in about 45 minutes from Chicago,which his luggage might be on and I decided we should gamble it. Hang out, grab something to eat since it was now 3:30 none of us had eaten since early this morning.

Another line.

Another chance for boo to get out of hand.

To struggle with.

Only she didn’t.

She lightend the mood by singing about what she was going to eat. Nothings better than a made up song about sandwhichs in a refridgerator with no door, and cupcakes on the top shelf.

After we ate, we headed back to the baggage claim to wait some more. We’d been at the airport waiting for over 3 hours.

And boo hit her limit.

She didn’t throw a tantrum, she didn’t whine, or cry, she just started “acting out” if you will. Doing raspberrys directly at my face, things she knows will get her in trouble.

Instead of thinking “Oh great, this would be so much easier without her here”

I treated her with the respect she deserved and the kindness she had shared with me the entire day, she had given me the gift of perception all day.

Viewing things differently.

It was high time I returned the favor.

There was an open area a few feet away from the carousel we were waiting at and I told Casey I was going to let her run off some of that energy, and we did.

She ran from wall to post imitating which ever animal I named, and we laughed at the silliness and the releif it gave both of us. No standing in line waiting... we were running in a jungle as tigers, howling like coyotes, growling like bears, and making our moments together.

Granted people that past us thought we were completely nuts, well at least me... but it didn’t matter.

And there I was.....Single plus one.



Learning about life from my “burden”

As we laughed and turned around there was Casey holding his suitcase high above his head triumphant, and we cheered him on.

“Yay Casey! You did it!!!” Boo giggles as she claps excitedly.

You did it


My little professor.

You did it.

I think I’m beginning to see the that the door is open on my bird cage, it’s up to me to decide when I walk through.

Now if I can just find that damn car.........

(it only took me 20 minutes this time)

As I finish writing this at my parents house, boo climbs beside me on my chair and whispers in my ear...

“Mama... I want to go home and do private time in my room”

Mr. Sandman bring me a dream.....

Originally posted Monday, March 26, 2007

Mr. Sandman bring me a dream.....
Current mood: NOT SLEEPING

Can’t sleep.

Sandman’s been here, my eyes feel like they are full of it... he forgot to bring the sleep part.. the rat bastard.

Why is it that when you can’t sleep, it’s usually when you’re overly exhausted? And there’s no end in sight? I suppose I can sleep in on Saturday morning cuz I won’t have the boo, but really how much do you want to bet that when Saturday morning rolls around, I’ll wake up at 6:30am?

Oh... and seriously... why are clothes for women either Junior sizes and fashion... or Misses sizes and FRUMPY???? I mean where’s the in between? I really don’t think anyone should be wearing a terri cloth jumpsuit past the age of 12.... and yet I really don’t want to wear polyester “mom” clothes either. .... there’s your random midnight thought....

Work... oh yeah let’s ramble about work a little bit huh? I will be tired tomorrow because I will only have slept a couple of hours and then I will rush out the door, drop boo off and daycare only to rush into my office, sit down turn on the computer, and waste time... seriously overstaffed, and not enough work... yep, I do know if the wrong person reads this it could mean trouble, but it’s the truth, and for the small amount of work that has come my way, I’ve been able to win awards... so it’s not my fault... I’m efficient and good at what I do... that is when I get to do it.....anyone have any good leads on a Graphic Artist opening anywhere?

Did you ever take a journalism class in college? You know the assignments where you just go in and write for an hour without stopping? Sometimes you’d be given a subject and other times you would just have to put pen to paper and never pick it up and if you couldn’t think of what to say you had to write “I can’t think of anything to say” I was just thinking that if Butch ever had that class I bet he would never have to write I can’t think of anything to say.... and if Peggy Larson had that class her professor would’ve have had to pass out at least once a day after reading her writing because there are no punctuation marks to let you breathe, but I love her writing.... oh and if fitz had that class he would write “I don’t fucking know what the fuck to write” and if Daniel had the class.. well shit.... the teacher would probably have to pry the pen and paper away from him......

So, my daughter masterbates... A LOT..... yep... she’s three... and when she’s older I hope she never sees this blog.... but damn... that’s crazy! I know it’s all perfectly normal and all, and I always just tell her to do it in private like in the bathroom or her bedroom and she does.... but the other morning I happend to walk by her room and she was just lying there, walked by again and she was rubbin one out and I ignored it, did some stuff, 45 mn later and we had to get going to a party and she was still workin on it!!! I had to go interrupt her!!! I mean I was ok with the very rare 5 min deal here and there ... but seriously 45 min? She got out of bed hair all tousled, cheeks all rosy, and staggerd to the bathroom..... I’m in trouble.

Yep... still not tired.

WOOO HOOOO!!! Oh goody, now my eyes are blurry, I bet yours are too... well quit reading then... I’m writing cuz I can’t sleep, what the hell are you doing reading this boring shit?

What other personal information can I divulge to the masses?

I hate boogers. They gross me out. I mean really... I gag when I see them, and if a kid (other than boo when she was really small and even then I gagged sometimes) has boogers I gag... it’s just a reflex... seriously there are worse things out there, but no, I gag at boogers.

If you’ve never gotten a message from Laslo you’re missin out... he leaves the best messages far, he’s been my mom, my vagina (twice) and some random wrong number caller.... it’s gotten to the point where I see it’s him calling and I don’t want to pick up cuz I want another message.

Yep this is the stream of thought.. no pauses... not thinking what should I write about next it just pops in and out... OH! In and Out burgers!!! I want one!!!

That reminds me of a party I went to in AZ one time.. it was at Fat Bastards House... Really.... this dude had some cash, his house was amazing the food was amazing.. he actually had every room in his house (besides the bedrooms and the bathrooms) set up with different types of foods... like the kitchen was all appetizers, the dining room was all desserts, the living room was all salads.. etc... outside by the pool was this ice sculpture that had a “slide” that you’d pour your shot of liquer from the top to the bottom where a glass was to cool your drink... anyway.... I just happend to show up at this dudes house with a friend of a friend... so basically I didn’t know anyone there... and I was asking who was hosting the party and they pointed to this man who looked EXACTLY like Fat Bastard from the Austin Powers movies... EXACTLY! He didn’t have the accent though which was good because as it was I couldn’t look him in the face and talk to him without giggling... yep I’m mature.....

Sleeping yet?


Why not?

Cuz God is punishing me cuz I don’t believe in him.... or I didn’t visualize myself sleeping enough I guess.... fuck!

Da do run run da do run run.... I’m hot, my laptop gets really hot.. so now, I’m sleepy, hot and sweaty... that’s a lovely picture huh?

All right.. my fingers are tired and before I divulge my masterbation techniques, I’m closing this thing......

If I’m not online by 8:00am someone call me, it means I’ve probably just fallen asleep.....

So....We’re White.

Originally posted Wednesday, March 21, 2007

So....We’re White.
Current mood: embarrassed
Category: Life

I was running some errands at our local (hicksville) Target.....

Actuallly it’s pretty exciting, they just opened a new SuperTarget about 5miles or so from my house in the neighboring hicksville village.

Oh the excitement... hold back... I know.

So boo and I were checking out the goods, playing, trying on sunglasses, laughing, and generally having a good time.

I wanted to find a new swimsuit, so I grabbed 3 different ones to try on. Each was greeted with
“Ewwww.... mama... “ “You have two underwears on, mama, ewwww one’s in your butt” As her little hands were trying to reach for my thong undies and remove them from their proper place as I frantically turned in circles, cuz really? Who wants their childs hands in their butt crack?.... but I digress......

After the swimsuit fiasco... we went to the grocery side of the store to pick up a few things we needed and the emphatically added.. “COOKIES!!” to the list.

As I was pushing my little darling boo in the cart (I was halfway holding her, halfway pushing her because seconds earlier she was running through the store not looking where she was going and ran straight into a bar for displaying jewlery and it smacked her right below her eye, she was being brave and trying not to cry, but it already was a red bump) and I was singing made up songs to comfort her.... and all of a sudden....

“Mama! Mama! There’s a BLACK MAN!!”

Now boo will keep repeating the same thing over and over until you acknowledge her, so I replied yes honey.. but he’s just a man.

“Mama he’s a

“Yes sweetie, but everyone’s different, he’s just a man”

Screaming at a volume like she’s about to meet her favorite Cartoon hero, she grabs my face, turns my head and screeches
“BUT MAMA L-O-O-K!!!! Mama why is he so BLACK!!!??”

I turned to this poor man, and his girlfriend and expressed my apologies, and tried to explain that we don’t get out much, and since we live in hicksville there’s not much ethnic diversity.

His girlfriend laughed and said she understood and it was no big deal... but he didn’t look so cool with it.

Which I’m pretty sure had something to do with my darling boo in the background all the while I was talking to them was still saying.....”Mama... LOOK at him.... Mama he is SO black!... Mama he’s REALLY DARK... mama.... that’s a black man...” which at this point had started to have a sing-song quality about it. And the song crescendoed with “MAMA WHY IS HE SO BLACK?”

To which, This RED mama replied with the only thing she could think of
“Why are you so white?”

Which did create the desired slience for about 2 seconds.

I heard a slight echo and laugh from said black man’s girlfriend... and then...

Boo looked at me with disbelief and a touch of disgust and said
“I’m not white, my SHIRT is white......but mama.... (pointing again) THAT’S A BLACK MAN!”

So I said my apologies again, and quickly pushed her off in another direction trying to explain people come in all shapes, sizes AND colors...

and of course

we ran into the same poor man about three more times (well actually came “close” to him and by that I mean at least 20 feet away) and each time he was greeted with


I want a pony

Current mood: giggly


A Pony.

Well not really.....actually a horse.... because a pony would be too small for me.

an arabian horse.

I used to have an arabian horse.. well not really... I didn’t own it I just borrowed it, and it wasn’t really an arabian.. well not completely arabian it was part quarter horse...

Alfie was his name-O...

well not really... his real name was Al Fury which really suited him much better because when I was putting the saddle on him his whole body would quiver because he was ready to R-U-N

He would do anything for me.... well not really... I mean he couldn’t do the dishes or anything but if I asked/wanted him to jump anything he physically could he would. No hesitation.


I want a pony. (and by that I mean horse.)

Monday, January 26, 2009

Transferring it all

I will be moving my blogs I had on my previous myspace page here.

I had a request for some of them, so that's it, the answer is yes, I have posted this somewhere once before. I will post the original date they were posted on at the bottom of each.

Thanks for the request, it actually makes me happy that what I wrote will be of use to someone else!