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.