wishing bracelet...

Wishing Bracelet

i have said this before, but often times i find myself roped into something without knowing all the details.  my wishing bracelet is no exception. 

one of my oldest and dearest friends, heather, has an exchange student from brazil.  heather lives with her husband matt in moses lake.  she makes the trek to the west side more than any other east sider out there.  well i suppose i don't know that for sure, i only know a handful of east siders, but she does visit a lot.  anyway, heather and matt don't have kids they have pets; mona, pita and oh dear lord i cannot remember the cat's name.  i want to say gandolph but i know that isn't it.  this year they decided to host an exchange student, hanna.

i had the great pleasure of meeting her in early august, when heather decided that hanna needed to see where she grew up.  i received a text from heather while i was out on a really long, therapeutic, mind clearing run.  i wasn't sold on the visit, but went anyway.  after cleaning up a bit, i trekked over to lake stevens to another fellow classmates house.  the distraction of life long friends was exactly what i needed.

a migration to another house and a couple of drinks later, hanna pulls out this enormous bag of ribbons.  the rainbow of colors was incredible.  she asked do you want a wishing bracelet?  well of course i do.  hanna tells me that this is a tradition where she is from and people line their arms with as many wishing bracelets as they can.  i got to pick my favorite color out of the enormous array of colors, pink.  not just any pink but the brightest most noticable pink available.
 

hanna, takes the two ends, wraps it around my wrist twice and then says make a wish....i close my eyes and make my first wish, she ties a knot.  she says make another wish...i close my eyes again and make my second wish, she ties another knot.  then she says make your last wish...i close my eyes for the third time, think real hard, make my third wish, hanna ties the last knot.  as hanna finishes the last knot she gives me the instructions...

you may not remove this for any reason of your own means. 

you cannot tell anyone what your wishes are.

if the bracelet falls off on its own and you've not shared your wishes with anyone...

they will come true.

most of you know that i am rule follower.  i drive the speed limit, i read front to back never jump to the end, i don't peak at christmas presents...rules...i follow them.  so i am looking at my bracelet thinking hmmm i wonder how long this thing will be on my wrist?

the first couple of weeks i really noticed this pink ribbon tied to my wrist.  the ribbon was itchy and annoying.  it was so bright, i tried to hide its presence with other bracelets and long sleeves, but it was august so long sleeves wasn't really an option.  i was constantly futzing with it.  during the first month of wearing my ribbon, i was asked a lot did you go to the fair?  this seemed like such a weird question the first time it was asked.  why would anyone think i had gone to the fair?  oh yeah, i have a fluorescent pink ribbon tied to my wrist, it looks like an all day ride pass, but do people really wear those after they leave the fair like a badge of honor? 

we are now at the end of november.  i have had this ribbon tied to my wrist since the first half of august.  it is starting to break down but i don't think its integrity has been compromised.  if i would've known i was going to be wearing this to my grave i may have chosen a less obscene color, maybe have opted for the nude colored ribbon. i smell it at least once a day checking for any type of odor, so far it just smells like the soap i scrub it with daily.  i have stopped trying to hide it, mostly because i don't really notice it anymore.

from time to time i check in with heather to see if she is still wearing hers and she always responds yes i am and you better still have yours on.  i get a nice little chuckle from her response and answer of course i am.



smellmop....

ad circulars, tremendously long lines, bad attitudes, and occasional tramplings....this can only be black friday shopping.  for some reason on this day, which happens during hours that no reasonable human being should be awake unless you work graveyard, people don their worst behavior and poorest manners.  maybe it is caused by lack of sleep, or that they are cold from standing outside waiting in a long line, or maybe it is just because they are worried about getting that one thing and can't imagine missing it because of all these other yahoos in front of them.  whatever the case, people are not happy to be black friday shopping.

in general i don't enjoy shopping, but i look forward to this shopping day.  it is another day that i get to spend with my girlfriends, that we get to be silly and create another memory.  as with anything the mammas do this is an event.  which stores in which order?  who is driving?  who rides in what car? there are usually 10 of us that go, cars are important.  do we stick together or split up for maximum efficiency? and the most important thing where are we going to have breakfast?  the mammas love to eat.  there is a lot of planning that goes into a mamma event.

this year was going to be different, stores were opening at 10pm, thursday night.  what?  well this definitely changed our plans from previous years. after dropping off the kids with their dad, i went home to attempt a nap.  i set my alarm, curled up in a blanket and laid down.  five minutes into my nap disaster struck.

now i am not shy and this may gross some of you out, but i think someone slipped me a laxative at dinner.  five trips to bathroom in forty minutes and i was wondering how i was ever going to go shopping.  i text my ride, i am not sure i am going to make it.  she told me you are not backing out now, i am on my way to get you.  i told her i am not crapping my pants standing in line!!

well news of my issue spread fast.  bethy text me ummmm.....spray poop?  this is what her six year old son calls number 3.  massive.  it's like i took a laxative, and the smell coming out of my rear would disintegrate the car and all it's occupant!!  too much rich food today!  well my mamma friends are ruthless and never pass an opportunity to poke fun at one another.  this is where the fun starts...

knock, knock....
who's there?
smellmop
smellmop who?
say it out loud...

if you said it out loud hopefully you giggled.  i did as i was sitting on the pot.  now i had posted on my facebook page C.R.A.P.  i knew the ladies would get it, but i was hoping that someone would come up with what those letters could mean...i can't think of any at the moment, but you get the drift.  instead i got sorry mamma mud butt is no fun.  oh my goodness, i wasn't expecting that, but again i laughed. 

i never made it shopping. my plan was to have the mass clean out, then meet up with the ladies.  at midnight i was finally done and exhausted.  i ended up just going to bed.  this is the first black friday shopping i have missed in the last 5-6 years.  so sad to have missed the adventure, but seriously glad that i didn't crap my pants in front of my friends and countless strangers.  there is no way i would've lived that down, EVER.

cactus does not taste like green beans....

i am sitting here on the eve of the only acceptable day for gluttony, excited about the festivities.  however, i am struggling with what to write about.  i am torn between being sentimental and sappy, i've been doing that a lot lately, and infusing a good dose of turkeylicious humor.  can i do both? 

this is typically a month of thankfulness.  when i peruse facebook i see many friends who make a daily post of something they are thankful for.  i did this last year, it was fun, kind of silly at times (i was thankful for chapstick one day), sometimes meaningful (my friends and family) and always sincere.  i have decided not to partake this year, instead i am going to write a blog post.  su-prise, su-prise, su-prise....anyone know what movie that is from?  i can't remember, but i can hear the man's voice in my head.

do you remember the friends episode where monica is making thanksgiving dinner and she is trying appease everyone and is preparing potatoes 5 different ways?  that was a funny one.  anyway, i don't have a story like that, but i have great memories of turkey day meals, thought i would share a couple.

i like green beans.  this may come as shock to some because i don't do cooked veggies, but green beans is one that i do like.  please don't drown them in some horrible cream-of-something soup, there is nothing appealing about grayish-green green beans.  one year while shopping for the fixins, the produce lady somehow convinced my mom that cactus, yes cactus, tastes just like green beans.  i am sure that lady was smoking something because i will be the first to tell you cactus tastes NOTHING like green beans.  the cactus year we also had cornish game hens instead of turkey, why i can't remember, but use your imaginations and picture our plates.  half of a personal sized bird with minuscule legs and wings, a slab (actually i am not sure what you even call it) of cactus, mashed potatoes and gravy, stuffing (which i refuse to eat, my mom totally ruined this for me, she puts liver in it) rolls, and cranberries from the can with the rings embedded into the gelatinous mass....yummy!

my dad is a huge turkey skin fan.  truth be told so am i.  i am a scavenger when it comes to kitchens, hovering at the edge of a counter, ready at any moment to swoop in and pick a piece of whatever.  following traditional etiquette, my dad is the carver at his holiday meal.  this is always done in the kitchen, not at the table like in the movies, and when i with him i am the wing man, helping him plate the chunks of meat onto the enormous platter and stealing skin when the opportunity arises.  so one year, my sis and i hid the plate of skin my dad assembled for himself.  dad kind of went into a panic when he noticed it was gone.  my sis and i casually told him that we had eaten it.  he was so upset i thought he was going to carve us right there and then.  my sis and i have never made that mistake again, it just wasn't worth the ire that arose from my dad. 

so here we go friends, a day of gluttony is upon us.  enter the day remembering all the blessings you have in your life.  for me i have wonderful kids who encourage me to grow, friends who provide counsel and laughter, family that loves me even when i don't deserve it, a job that pays the bills, fabulous clothes on my back, a belly full of delicious food and a new roof over my head.  my life is definitely blessed. 

love note...

write me a love note

am i the only one out there starving for romance? 

we live in a world where everything is instant.  our communication is instant, our food is instant, an idea can be made into reality in no time at all.  with so many advances in technology, medicine and science we no longer have to wait.  i think this has left us a little impatient.

i am no exception.  when i want something i want it now.   i am very impatient when it comes to certain things.  when i want coffee i just press a button.  i might actually die if i had to fill up my tea kettle, wait for the water to boil then pour the scalding water over the coffee grounds, wait for it to steep before pressing the plunge, and finally pouring it in my mug.  oh my gosh!  i definitely would die.  even getting in my car and driving to the nearest coffee stand/shop would be too much. 

i have a friend in spokane that i talk to everyday via text.  our conversations basically happen in real time, except for a few second delay.  i can read the message and respond within a minute.  it is almost like having this friend on my couch enjoying a cup of coffee that i only had to press a button to make. we have joked about ditching our phones and writing letters.  ummmm....no can do, i am way to addicted to my phone, but the romance of it is intriguing.

texting has changed my life in a way that i can keep in touch with so many of my friends at any given moment without really interfering with what i am doing laundry, making dinner, or using the restroom.  yes i do use my phone in the bathroom sometimes, but just think if i was actually talking to you on the phone instead of texting you....what would you hear?

as much as i love texting there is a part of me that is longing, yearning, starving for something else.  a little mystery.  a little suspense.  the anticipation that only comes with having to wait.  can you even imagine corresponding with a lover, a bosom buddy, or your parents if all you had was the postal service?

would you check your mailbox more often?  i would.  i would check it everyday, hoping for that one letter with its distinct script on the envelope.  when it finally arrived, the rest of the world would melt away while i sprawled across my bed to read the words from my beloved.  i can picture myself holding the words close to my heart as i let out a heavy sigh.  i wouldn't waste any time penning my beloved.

to my dearest love,

if i wore perfume i would want to spray the stationary so when my beloved opened my letter it would remind him of me and maybe of a time that we shared together.  i might even kiss the paper after applying a healthy dose of true red lipstick.  oh my gosh, i am so sappy and mushy.  i suppose this is all very Gone With the Wind  or  Anne of Green Gables -esque, but boy it seems romantic. 

life today isn't as it used to be, but i can tell you there is a way to infuse a little romance into a modern day message.

hope you have an amazing day!

may colors seem more vivid than usual

and your coffee taste remarkably better than it ever has before!

homogenized

H-O-M-O-G-E-N-I-Z-E-D

when i was in 5th grade, mr. landoni's class, i was in a spelling bee.  i never made it past my school's own competition because i misspelled homogenized.  i will never, ever, EVER forget how to spell this word ever again.  i was so excited to be in the spelling bee.  i had huge dreams of being this master speller.  my dreams were squashed in my first bee, but it sparked my love of words.

5th grade was an incredible year, i might even go so far as to say my best elementary school year.  i was very "showy" in 5th grade.  i was in the spelling bee, the school play and i was a story teller.  there is a video floating around of a very animated me telling rapunzel to a group of first or second graders.  oy!  my mom loves this video, so much that she would hold viewings for potential suitors when i was in high school. of course, i confiscated it and hid it in the bottom drawer of my dresser until i moved out and i have it safely tucked away in a box. 

this morning, saturday, i watched my daughter's face light up.  we were at the microsoft store in bellevue, where she received a certificate of accomplishment for a writing competition at school.  i am so incredibly proud of her.  she may not make it any farther in the competition but she puts herself out there.  she puts herself out there to be seen, to be judged, to be heard.  she is fearless.

i'm not really sure when or where i lost my fearlessness, but i am slowly regaining it.  maturity came with caution.  caution was interpreted as don't draw attention to yourself fool, just get through school. 
caution turned into habit.  habit turned into marrying someone who wasn't the best fit for me. wasn't the best fit turned into wit's end and drastic change.  drastic change is finding the real me, which is essentially the adventures of flo.  wow that is quite the life cycle.  remember learning life cycles in school?  the circle diagram, that is what i picture with a big ol' head shot of me in the middle.

at 35 you aren't going to catch me in a play, or a spelling bee, or singing at the local bar.  i just don't draw attention to myself in that manner anymore.  i can, however, guarantee that any time, any where, any place i will be able to spell homogenized. go ahead and try me!

H-O-M-O-G-E-N-I-Z-E-D

a snippet...

it's been six days since i have written anything.  oh my gosh six whole days.  i have to confess that this is actually my fourth post that i have started since dating adventures part two.  i have many, many unfinished, unpublished thoughts.  some thoughts just aren't big enough to expand on. 

for instance,  i was having an email discussion with a friend the other day about sleeping with socks on...

i have an irrational fear of fires.  i have never been in a house fire, although my parents have, it was before i was born.  i haven't known anyone outside of my parents who have been in a house fire.  where the fear comes from i don't know.  i get ready for bed every night anticipating a fire.  this means, i am dressed to run out of my house and face my neighbors with a shred of dignity...aka not naked.  so in the cooler months i have on sleep pants and a t-shirt, in the warmer i have on shorts and tank top but never do i have socks on.  there is an exception to this, camping.  let's face it, it's just downright cold camping whether you are in a bag by yourself or someone else.  for some reason i feel like my feet need to breathe, which made me examine the life of my feet...

i wake up, swing my legs out of bed and slip my naked feet into a pair of well worn slippers.  only to drown them in my morning shower and shove them back into my well worn slippers.  after several minutes or hours in a fluffy pink cotton do my feet get a glimpse of the outside world and fresh air before they are encased in socks or hose for an unspecified amount of time.  i am always cold so my feet are held captive until it is time for bed where i remove the casing they've been trapped in all day and insert them into a cave of cotton until the cycle repeats itself.  can you imagine if i wore socks to bed?  those poor feet.

anyway, this isn't really a thought to expand on.  i find humor in the conversation but can't find anything else to say about it.  so i guess this will just be it.  short and sweet.  a little bit of humor and a little more insight into my crazy mind.

gum on my shoe...

i am feeling the need to write about something that hits very close to home.  i have been putting it off because it is very hard for me to express my thoughts and feelings without exposing the story.  i do feel an obligation to protect ones privacy, especially if i haven't received permission to share.  so i apologize in advance because this may come across as very vague.  i also feel that this might be hard to read, it may make some uncomfortable, it makes me uncomfortable, but i think it is important for me to put this out there.

i have a new confidant.  i have known this human for the last year, yet we haven't ever had a real conversation.  our paths are crossing in a way that has allowed us to share our stories with each other.  you hear that expression ...until you have walked in the other person's shoes... which is virtually impossible to do, because we all makes choices and have life experiences that may be similar but aren't exactly the same.  however, this individual may be the closest i will ever get to walking in someone elses shoes. 

this human understands the burden that i chose to bear knowing logically and consciously that it wasn't my burden to shoulder.  this human understands the internal dialogue one has to justify their actions.  this human understands the sacrifices one makes to keep everyone safe.  this human understands.

it is really hard to watch someone you care about struggle with personal demons.  if you don't have anyone in your life that struggles with demons count your lucky stars.  i still care, but have had to distance myself to preserve my sanity.  trying to help someone with their demons is very taxing.  it might not be for someone who is educated, licensed and equipped, but i am none of those things.  i do not set forth clear boundaries, i am an enabler, i make things okay.  realizing that you, yourself, is part of the problem is like taking a kick to the groin.

when i started sharing my story with my new confidant i have to admit that i was jealous.  jealous, that their story ends. there is no second, third, twentieth, or one hundredth chapter to live through, to deal with, to overcome.  that story is completely written and the book is closed.  i am sure that the book will be revisited and maybe even a specific chapter more often than the others, but this confidant gets to choose if they want to revisit.  i do not have that luxury.  

the jealous feeling was short lived.  when we share i see a human is deeply sad.  a human who performs their daily life for the benefit of others and to maintain a sense of normalcy.  a human who looks at their life and says, "what happened?"  i recognize, understand and have felt all the sadness, the questions and the obligations to continue.  however, i get the benefit, if you want to call it that, of continued build ups and let downs to unburden my heart and brain of guilt.  i think my confidant carries an additional burden, one that i cannot relate to.

i am ashamed that i once wanted my confidant's story.  i have expressed this desire and was met with eyes of disbelief and grief.  i instantly felt like gum stuck to the bottom of a shoe.  i imagine that my confidant wishes that there were more chapters, wishes that they could have build ups and let downs, even though they are challenging to come through.  those emotions and occurrences are living.  i no longer wonder.  i have seen what the book that ends looks like.

i want to thank my confidant for sharing openly and candidly.  

dating adventures part two....

you know this is going to be funny.  the title alone eludes to the fact that i have been exposing myself to a new crop of men hoping to find something worth my time. 

i know there are a good portion of my readers that are one facebook. so readers, do you remember when you started your facebook account?  i do.  i was addicted to my facebook page.  i was a stay-at-home mom with kids in school and time to waste.  i spent hours building my army of friends, putting silly buttons on my page, changing my mood with the mood stone app, reading status updates.  addicted for sure. 

on-line dating is kind of the same thing.  i have had a profile on plenty of fish (a free dating website) for a long time (the last year).  when i was dating matt i had it hidden.  i never looked at it because i was blissfully happy with him, but when my eternally sun shiny days started to fade and i knew that it just wasn't going to work, i unhid myself.  this is where our adventure begins.

a free website is sure to be loaded with intensely crazy people.  i find myself "window shopping" the site, perusing profiles.  i think humans are fascinating.  i love reading about what makes someone tick, their interests, their goals.  i cringe at all the "text talk" that shows up in people's bios, come on folks put yourself back in english class, dust off the file cabinet you've stored your proper grammar in and put it back in use.  there is a large number of fellas, my age, who want to be gangsta's; backwards hat pulled down over their eyebrows and a super serious "i am going to beat the crap out of you" scowl on their face.  this is not an inviting look, what happened to smiling?  maybe say cheese isn't as widely used as it used to be.

i will talk to just about anybody and this is probably a downfall of mine.  so when i get a new message (they seem to come in waves, some days i get a flurry of messages and then days will go by without any activity), i look for a few things; location (i've narrowed the search to about 10 miles), height (you have to be taller than me in heels, i just don't want to be looking at the top of your head), doesn't want anymore kids (i really am not interested in birthing more children).  then i read their profile...the fella can be cuter than all get out but if he can't write something worth reading with good grammar and correct spelling well i just can't deal.  then i scope out the pics.  let's face it not everyone is photogenic, and i try not to judge too much by the photos, but there definitely needs to be some sort of attraction.

i almost always respond to the message even if it is just to say no thank you.  however, if you are interesting i will engage.  i kind of remind myself of an old blue hair.  you know those ladies who will talk to anyone just to have a conversation?  i feel like i am always starved for adult interaction and conversation, but really i shouldn't be because i talk to so many people everyday.  anyway, occasionally i find myself at the coffee shop meeting one of these interesting fellas.  i have learned some valuable lessons that i feel is my duty to pass along.

1.  if all pictures are from far away or with sunglasses...there may be a problem.  sometimes people look so different from their photos.  this fella had a wandering eye.  oh my word!  this may not be an issue for some, but i can't control my face.  i had no idea what eye to look at.  i could feel my face scrunching up, eyebrows furrowed, my mouth pinched and my head cocked to the right, always the right.  oh for goodness sakes, i need a heads up about this kind of thing.  that was a no.

2.  last fall i met a fella...on paper a pretty good catch, but there are just somethings that aren't listed on paper.  i actually met him two times.  our first meeting i noticed that he stuttered a bit.  chalked it up to being nervous.  well the second time we had dinner, there was wine involved.  you would think that the wine would loosen things up, but this only intensified the stuttering.  again, can't control my face.  he stuck on M's.  the letter M is actually used a lot.  more than one may realize.  needless to say, i made a complete ass of myself hanging on the words, wanting to finish the thought.  that was a no.

i really am not so shallow as to discount fellas for attributes that are beyond their control, but i know myself and what i can feasibly live with.  wandering eyes and stuttering aren't things i can live with.

so sometimes the messages are just so out there they leave you baffled.  for instance:

1.  would you be interested in marrying a preacher and doing missionary work?  quite the pick up line!  i told him no, but thank you for the offer.

2.  interested in dating?  talk about jumping in with both feet.  the kicker, he/she lives in texas.  did you catch the he/she?  this human was definitely a woman masquerading as a man!  are you kidding me?

well that's about all i've got today. 

cheers

learning to dazzle....i think

maybe there is something to this dazzling thing after all.  i have to back up a bit so that you get the full story and that it makes sense.

so as you know i am divorced.  i think i have made that pretty clear.  we have a pretty typical visitation schedule; one overnight during the week and every other weekend.  however on the weekends with their dad the kids come home monday morning before school.  the transition day always seems to be the hardest.  i recognize that it is hard for me to switch hats sometimes, so i can only imagine how difficult it is for my kids to switch hats with their limited life experience. 

monday morning, between 7:30 and 8:00 a.m.  i've made breakfast and am working on picking up the dishes.  at the table world war three is breaking out in the form of insults, complaints, whining, yelling and complete chaos.  i am thinking to myself this is not how one should eat their breakfast, they are not being kind to each other, what the heck? 

you guys need jesus!

complete silence.  jaws drop to the table.  utensils are held in mid-air.  i have two sets of eyes glued to me wondering and waiting for the next words that will come out of my mouth.  i gently pull out the chair at the head of the table and sit.  i calmly ask my kids some questions:

Mom: are you two treating each other the way you want to be treated?
Kids: no
Mom: do you think that God would like how you are behaving?
Kids: no
Mom: do you think that God is watcing you now?
Kids: yes
Mom: well maybe you should think about that.

i walked away from the table without another word and continued getting myself ready for work.  the kids were very nice to each other rest of the morning.  there was no arguments, no sassing, no whining. 

Mom: 1
Kids: 0

i realize that this will only work a couple more times before the shock value wears off, but i've got to tell you that i was very pleased. 

in all seriousness, there is something to this dazzling thing.  i get that i am poking fun at the whole concept, and i've made some not-so-nice comments regarding the authors, but i do find myself interacting with my kids a little differently. 

i still have my beef with the book.  i think the idea is good and there are a lot of things that i agree with, but the manner in which i am supposed to be delivering the message to my kids is completely crazy town.  i just don't have that in me.  i was discussing the book with another parent and she had written in the margin this is exhausting.  we were talking about how the dialogue the authors give you is just too much and that we wished it was simplified.   in my head i pictured a yellow manual with black caution tape that says Give them Grace: For Dummies. 

as the group was throwing out different scenarios and how they handled them a very important point was made.  you can be giving your children grace without having to reference God.  aha!  this is good news for me.  as i have said before i think that i teach my kids God's law but that i don't use the verbage that you would find in the bible.  in order for me to spread the gospel with my children in a "teaching moment" would require me to hit the pause button, call beth and ask her what to say, come back to my kids, press play and then continue.  as you can see this is not a reasonable scenario, i just don't live in the movie "Click" with Adam Sandler. 

as we get farther in the book we are being exposed to a plan on how to incorporate the gospel and when it is a time to just discipline.  i think we all agreed that we would prefer that the book was more black and white, but that just isn't life.  life is gray, not one shade of gray but an ombre of gray. 

so the dazzling continues.  my kids will probably always be obnoxious ratchets at times. they will always make choices that require a healthy dose of full on law.  i am doing my best to add some more grace, this is kind of tough for me i like order.  i will probably continue to poke fun and warn my kids prepared to be dazzled, but i know, my kids, and yes God knows that i infuse my day with humor, laughter and sarcasm because it is me. 

smelly cat...

the tv show friends is probably one of my all time favorites. when it was on air i watched it religiously.  watching friends on thursday night was part of my routine.  there was an episode where phoebe had a cold, she is in the coffee shop playing her guitar and singing smelly cat, in her sexy lounge cold induced voice.  every time i have a cold and my voice gets deeper, scratchier and throatier i think of phoebe and her lounge voice.

there is a question that i often ask of people i am getting to know.  what is your dream job?  this question is asked with the following guidelines; if you didn't have to think about money, location, or any other factor what would your dream job be?  i love people's answers.  often times you can learn something about them, some sort of aspiration or desire that wouldn't come up in a regular conversation.  inevitably i get the question in return.

so some of you will already know the answer, but my response is a back up singer.  the doo-wop girl.  usually there is more than one of these girls.  so we would be in nondescript outfits, probably black dresses and boots, we can't be too flashy you aren't really supposed to notice us. we stand at our microphones, for some reason back up singers always seem to be to the left (when you are looking at the stage as a spectator) of the actual singer.  we coordinate our movements, usually this means we have our arms at a 90 degree angle and we step from left to right and move our arms in a similar fashion.  oh yeah baby this is my dream job.

back up singer you say?  why wouldn't you want to be the front woman?  well this may come as a shocker, but i really don't like being the center of attention.  when all eyes are on me i freeze.  i have had this fear for as long as i can remember the feeling of embarrassment.  speaking in front of people, well actually being the sole person doing anything in front of a group of people, makes me want to vomit.  this has come up in many aspects of my life.

i once had a job where i had to present a product.  what do they call those people?  oh yeah, a salesperson.  this is not really a job for me.  sure i am personable and can carry on a conversation, but trying to pitch a product and convince you to purchase it...forget it.  this is not my forte.  every time i had to present our product i would sweat profusely, my face turned bright red, talked really fast, forgot things, said too many of the wrong things, fidgeted...oh the list could continue, but i think you might get the idea.

this has also come up in sports.  sports?  that is kind of weird.  well let me explain.  in high school i ran track.  i was a 400 hundred runner, that is once around the track.  basically a sprint for three quarters of the track.  i was actually pretty good at it.  in the beginning i missed a couple of my races because i was in the bathroom throwing up from nerves.  i just couldn't keep them under wraps.  i also went golfing once.  yes only once.  i went with my ex husband.  since i had no idea what i was doing, i didn't want anyone to watch me.  i kept letting groups go ahead of us, waiting for an opportunity where there wasn't anyone watching so i could take my rookie crap swing.  my ex only let that happen a few times before he told me i had to go and i had to go now.  i have never golfed again.

i am getting more comfortable at making a fool of myself.  i dont' get as embarrassed as i used to.  i credit this to being a mother and making a fool of yourself to keep your kids happy and entertained.  i still haven't worked up the courage to be a singer, in front of others.  karaoke?  oh heck no, you will not get me up there.  i don't really care if you fill out a slip with my name on it.  you would first have to pry me from my chair and even then you can't make me open my mouth and emit a sound.  just sayin'

my lounge voice is already gone, but i thought i would copy and paste the lyrics to smelly cat.  just in case you find yourself with that throaty lounge voice you will know where to find the lyrics.  dont' forget your guitar, even if you can't play the tune you will look cool.

Three, four...

Smelly Cat, Smelly Cat,
What are they feeding you?
Smelly Cat, Smelly Cat
It's not your fault

They won't take you to the vet
You're obviously not their favorite pet
Smelly Cat, Smelly Cat,
It's not your fault

You may not be a bed of roses
You're not friend to those with noses
I'll miss you before we're done
Or the world will smell as one

Smelly Cat, Smelly Cat,
What are they feeding you?
Smelly Cat, Smelly Cat
It's not your fault

(Phoebe) Oh are we done?

One, two, what's that smell?

Smelly Cat, Smelly Cat,
What are they feeding you?
Smelly Cat, Smelly Cat
You're getting fat

I think that I'm gonna be sick
It's your ears, and nose and pick
Part of it, tempt me

One, two, what's that smell?

All the dogs in the neighborhood
Are saying this for your own good
What, you're fat, so you can't run
No fun, I bet, No fun

Smelly Cat, Smelly Cat,
Porno makes you eat like that
I saw you in the shopping mall

Smelly Cat, Smelly Cat,
It's not your fault,
Smelly Cat, Smelly Cat,
It's not your fault
Smelly Cat, Smelly Cat,
It's not your fault

We know what was in your food
They say it might affect your mood

You smell like something dead (3x)

One, two, what's that smell?

(Phoebe)Yeah, that's not the song

crap on heather week....

i am going to rant and rave here a bit.  so if you aren't in the mood for negativity stop now.  this isn't going to be pretty and i may hurt some feelings, but my feelings have been hurt too. 

have you ever had one of those days, maybe it is a week, where your past seems to have gotten a memo that says, "you should shit on heather.  you should blame her and yell at her to clear your conscious." ?  if you haven't, be thankful, because i am here to tell you that it sucks dog.  i am having that week.  the good news, supposedly things come in threes and i have had three different people at three different times blame me and yell at me.  so i've had my fill, i've taken my punch in the gut and i'm ready to move on.

#1.
i am tired of being the scapegoat and the reason behind all your problems.  i fully understand that i am going to be the one you blame, but is that forever?  will there ever be a time when you admit that you played a roll.  that you have just as much, if not more, ownership in our failure?  i accept and own that i contributed to our failure, no one is perfect, there are always two people involved in a partnership, but really??  i did not make your choices, i did not disengage, i did not find an alternative way to cope.  yes, i made it easy for you to make poor choices, but ultimately you made those choices. 

so, yeah, i will probably always be your scapegoat, i will always be the one you blame.  i suppose my job is to figure out how to deal with it so it doesn't interfere with my life now, so you stop bringing me down.  i will be honest, i haven't figured that out yet.  it still affects me.  i still take it personally.  i still try to make it easier for you.  i still make concessions.  i feel weak.

#2.
i am not sure how telling me, "it took you to help me figure out i needed counseling so i could be the real me" is supposed to make me feel good?  it doesn't.  it makes me feel foolish and used.  well super, i am glad that i could invest my time into the fake you, so you could be the real you for someone else.  are you kidding me?  i had never intended to be the "learning girlfriend", a stepping stone to the right thing.  maybe if i thought that was my role i would've gone about things differently?  like said no thank you. 

#3.
i'm sorry.  i am sorry that my shitty week made me unavailable to support you.  i realize that my issues aren't as heavy as yours, but they are still mine and they still impacted me.  i have always been there even when you didn't want it.  i needed that same support without being trumped, without feeling stupid, without the guilt.  maybe it is selfish to have asked that you put your needs aside this one time, but i don't think so.  maybe i should have sucked it up and just been the supportive friend i always am to you, but i couldn't.  maybe you will forgive me maybe you won't.  i really just don't know.  in any case, i am sorry. 

so crap on heather week is officially over.  if anyone else has a gripe, complaint, or issue you will have to wait until next time. 

pint-sized blogger....

my daughter wants to write a blog....

oh my goodness!  this is terrifying to me.  shall we recap my daughter?  okay we shall.  first off she is nine and three quarters.  the three quarters is uber important when you are approaching double digits.  she is precocious, outspoken, fiercely loyal to her best friend, stubborn.  did i mention outspoken?  did i mention that she is only nine?

my first thought is what in the world is she going to write about?  friends, the argument she got into with me, how she deliberately pokes at her brother, her christmas list, how she wants to be a singer/actress, her favorite color, her cat oscar, how much she hates that her parents are divorced, her idols, her dreams, or maybe the boy she has been crushing on since first grade.  i suppose she does have a lot she could write about when i list it out like this.

my second thought, she needs an outlet.  my daughter and i are similar in many ways.  P is very creative with her words.  for nine and three quarters she has a huge vocabulary, she reads almost three grade levels above her grade.  she has a knack for stringing words together.  she is a budding a songwriter.  P has a desire to be heard, just like her mamma.  i think this is part of the reason why i started blogging, i felt like my ideas, opinions, thoughts were never heard and maybe just maybe if i put them out in this format someone will pay attention.  well P is no different, she has so much to share i think she feels squelched by the confines of her life that she needs a way to share with others.

my biggest fear, how will she portray me?  i am blessed with a girl who isn't afraid to speak her mind.  often times this means that she writes me hate mail.  the hate mail usually comes after we have disagreed about something, or she didn't get her way, or i stopped her before she even had the chance to spit it out.  the outside of my hate mail usually looks nice with hearts or smiley faces on the front

to: mom
love: peyton

but inside is a whole bunch of hate.  proclaiming that life isn't fair, she has an opinion, she can make her own decisions and my favorite...i am the worst mother ever.  it can be hard not to giggle when i am reading this, because i know she really doesn't mean it, but at that very moment she has so much built up yuck she just spews it out.  throwing around random hatred just to get it out of her head. 

yes i am fearful as to how she would portray me.

at her school conference this year, her teacher recommended that i let her help me write a post start to finish.  she has a problem revising her work and he thought it would be helpful for her to see how much i edit before i actually publish something.  of course she heard this and decided instead she just wanted her own blog.  she is too cool for a collaborative piece. 

hmmm....i have been thinking about it.  i think i might let her write a piece and post it on my blog but make very clear that the thoughts are all P.  i may be opening a huge can of worms, but maybe, just maybe she will find writing her thoughts just as therapeutic as i do. 

molasses to heavy cream...

the relationship with my ex is slowly mending.  you hear that expression slower than molasses well i wish there was an expression for something even slower because that is how quickly our progress is, excruciatingly slow.  for a long time i believed that it was all him, he was making this difficult, but i have discovered that i too am making this difficult.  shocker!

we recently sat down to hash things out.  talk about uncomfortable.  i cried a good portion of the time.  ugh!  i despise that i am a crier.  it doesn't matter how hard i try to hold it in the tears come without permission.  those darn tears mock me and make me look weak.  ooh i don't like you tears.  anyway, it was uncomfortable but i think progress was made.

for the past two plus years we have been at a standstill.  there is so much emotion that swirls around with divorce; anger, disappointment, failure, sadness, and a whole host of others.  pick one, i'm sure i have felt it.  moving past all of that has proven to be difficult for me.  why do i hold onto it?  i am not really sure, other than it is familiar.  i am used to the uncomfortably tense relationship we now have.

for some reason a good majority of humans do this, stay in the uncomfortable because it is familiar. how many people do you know that are in a job they don't particularly like but they stay because it is familiar?  do you know someone who is in a marriage and will stay in that marriage because it is familiar not because they are still in love with their spouse?  it takes a lot of courage and faith to be vulnerable and open to change.  to choose a different path not knowing what the terrain will look like. 

this is a situation that i don't want to stay cemented in, the uncomfortable.  i truly want to get to a point where our interactions aren't tense, they aren't uncomfortable, i can perform them without the tears.  i am not one hundred percent sure on how to do this.  honestly i am not even twenty five percent sure how to do this.  but i am certainly going to try, not just for my sake but for my kids.

first and foremost we simply have to talk more.  with our voices.  forget email and texting some situations are just better handled with our voices.  moving from molasses to heavy cream requires the human voice.  i am not sure about you, but when i am faced with a difficult conversation it is easier for me to write it down.  i think i explain myself better this way.  the problem with a written word is it's open to interpretation.  you as the reader gets to choose the intonation, you may inadvertently add words or drop words.  it reminds me of having a black cup of coffee and getting to add your own flavor to it.  no two cups of coffee will be the same, just as no two readers will have the same interpretation of the same text.  so as hard as it is for me to share vocally i have to put on my big girl panties and just do it. 

practice makes perfect, right?

second it is just going to take time.  we didn't communicate well during our marriage, to think that we are magically going to figure it out now that we aren't married is just crazy.  time can be your best friend and it can also be your worst enemy.  in this case it has been both.  i think that we waited too long to start the healing process.  i can only speak for me, but i have a K2 size wall glued together with distrust erected around me.  this naturally means it is going to take time to regain trust. 

eventually we will get to heavy cream.

eaters...apply within. i'm stuffed

i am in love. 

 yes. 

 in love.

i suppose the next logical question is with who?  and maybe you are thinking, seriously heather you just broke up with your boyfriend.  you've been a tortured mess.  now you are professing your love?  again?!  maybe you are hanging your head in shame that you know me?  maybe you are jumping up and down with joy for me (probably not, i mean who really cares that much)?  maybe you are just thinking here we go again...at least the journey is interesting enough to read? 

well it is not with a who...it is with a what.  what?  okay, now she has really fallen off her rocker.  what is she talking about?  in love with an inanimate object?  where is the straight jacket and padded room?  quick, if we sneak up from behind she may not put up much of a fight...clearly you haven't met me.  i may look fragile and frail but i am scrappy.  it's the scrappy ones you have to be wary of.

my fridge is full. 

my freezer is full. 

my pantry (well i don't really have one of those) is full. 

 i am in love. 

if you follow my blog or my facebook page you will have noticed that i have been cooking up a storm.  i am not sure if it is the time of year?  or that i am rediscovering my love of cooking and actually taking the extra step of planning it?  or if i have just been hungry?  whatever the case, i've been cooking.  i kind of feel like i am nesting....no i am not pregnant.  but for the ladies, you may recall this urge to prepare for the arrival.  yeah, that's the feeling.  it must just be the weather.

i am running into a problem.  as much as i love to cook  i can only eat so much. so why do i make so much?  well when i am cooking a recipe, especially a new recipe, i follow the directions exactly.  there is no substitutions, unless it calls for mushrooms those are omitted.  every time.  i don't cut the recipe in half.  i get that this is easy enough to do, when it calls for 2 cups you use 1 cup so on and so forth, i just don't do this on my first go around.  besides, how do you cut 3 eggs in half? 

my household consists of three humans and one feline.  only one of those humans (me) really eats.  my kids, the other two humans, aren't as adventurous.  my son would live off of apples, peanut butter, cheese and crackers and cereal if i let him.  most often he looks at his plate and says i don't like this.  i am not a mom who insists that my kids eat what is on their plate, but they do have to try it and i am not making something different for them to eat.  my daughter is a little more adventurous in her food but claims she can't chew meat.  this is not to be interpreted as i am a vegetarian because that isn't the case either, i think it is all in her head.  the feline, oscar, he doesn't eat too much people food.  an occasional lick of a tuna can but i wouldn't consider that enough of a contribution to count.   

recipes and packaged food isn't really geared towards a family of three, two or even one.  there is a scene from a movie father of the bride that comes to mind.  george banks is at the grocery store attempting to purchase hot dogs and buns.  anyone remember this scene?  he is stressed to the max with the cost of the wedding and flips out at the store.  he is so irritated that he has to buy more buns than dogs, starts removing the buns from the package because he just isn't going to put out one more penny for things he doesn't need.  hilarious. 

there is a point to this reference i just can't put my finger on it.  i am distracted with scenes from that movie floating around in my head.  i think i might need to watch this movie soon.

anyway, we aren't a left over family.  if at the end of our meal there is food left i package it and store it in my fridge.  there is something sacrilegious about throwing away freshly prepared food.  however, if it is two week old science experiment worthy food i have no problems feeding my hungry garbage can.  so here in lies my dilemma, i have gotten really good at making just enough for my family of three, but i get tired of eating the same things over and over again so i make something new, which inevitably means i will have food left over.  ugh!

what am i missing?  a man.  another human who will consume the food at my table.  from my experience men are typically living breathing garbage disposals.  they will eat just about anything.  from cold soup directly out of the can to a five course meal.  if it isn't moldy, curdled or smell funny they will consume it.  i love this about men. 

i wonder?  would it be odd to put out an ad?  an ad for just a dinner guest?  how stringent would the screening process have to be?  i certainly don't want to put my kids or myself in danger by having some whackadoo at my table, but another eater would be fantastic.  i could try out all my new recipes, the food would get eaten, the conversation would most certainly be different than our usual kid talk, and our guest would have had a hot meal and would leave with a full belly.  ok that is silly.  somethings sound much better in rapid fire suggestion than thought out suggestion, but it would be nice to have another eater.