...



these days i feel like a blip on a radar 

every day my blip is inching its way off the grid

what happens if i fall completely off the grid?

will i feel it? 

 

don't forget me...

 

don't forget me...

 

don't forget me...

 

don't forget me...

 

 

 

positive or negative...

you've purchased the test and raced home.  as you are walking through the house you are dropping your purse and keys.  you've kicked off your shoes the left and then the right.  you have already started unzipping your jeans.  you've gnashed open the cellophane with your teeth and ripped the box open like a unleashed beast taking just the stick while the box lies in pieces on the floor.  you lift the toilet seat, yank the protective plastic shield off with your teeth and pull your panties down in one swift move.  before you've even sat completely down a golden stream starts flowing.  you reach between your legs, saturate the extra absorbent end of the stick, replace the plastic shield and then wait.

three minutes flies by when you are talking to your best friend on the phone.  but lord almighty three minutes seems like 82 years when you are perched on the toilet seat waiting to see a positive or negative sign. just for the record i am not pregnant or even thinking i might be pregnant.  that would mean i would have had to have sex with someone (other than myself) and well that hasn't happened since october. 

what is it about waiting that time seems to creep along? waiting is like an itch in the middle of my back that i just can't reach. it drives me completely batshit crazy. i always thought that as you aged, you know gained more wisdom, that you would naturally become more patient. man was i wrong.

it doesn't seem to matter what you are waiting on; the results of a pregnancy test, the phone call saying you got the job, math class to end, the red light to change to green, or your keurig to finish brewing your coffee, it can seem painfully long.

i don't know about you, but if what you are waiting on is something you really are hoping for it seems to take extra long.  say you are late for work and sitting at a red light.  you look at the light, then the clock in your dashboard, then to the lights operating the other traffic, then back at your clock, then back at the red light.  i swear sometimes there are two clocks because the clock in my dashboard seems to be operating in hyper warp speed but the clock that tells the light to change seems to need new batteries because it is stuck.

waiting can drive a person nuts, but i keep trying to remind myself it isn't taking longer, nor is it going to be quicker by dwelling.  it just is. 

i'm not the only sham...

lately i have been reading a series of posts from single dad laughing titled the truth box.  if i remember correctly this series started about seven weeks ago.  the premise is to anonymously write a lie you actively live and tell and then what the truth is.  the beauty behind this series is that it is completely anonymous so you are safe to write whatever you want.  to finally let out your deepest, darkest secret. 

i did fill out the form, but i am not going to share what i put.  i do look for it, but it has yet to be published.  here is what i found astounding.  every week, the author of this blog, publishes about 60 new entries to the truth box.  are you doing the math?  he isn't repeating entries.  in fact he says that he has received thousands of anonymous confessions.  thousands!

 

what in the world is wrong with us? 

why do we pretend to be happy when we are miserable?  or pretend to lead lives that we aren't leading?  why are we ashamed of who we really are and go to great lengths to disguise our true selves?  i have my own theories on this, but i wonder if we, the human race, wouldn't be happier, more fulfilled and generally less stressed if we ditched the sham and just were?

an almost "rachel trifle" moment...

i am a huge fan of the show friends.  i never missed an episode.  if i had tv i would watch reruns today.  my sister often sends me texts with a line from an episode that she thinks i will remember and i never do, i simply don't retain television trivia.  this particular episode is one of my favorites (i'm also a huge fan of the PIVOT episode). 

at 7:15 this morning, much like any other morning, the breakfast rush starts.  my son is always the first for breakfast, he tells me what he would like when i wake him up.  lately he has been on a waffle with butter, peanut butter and syrup, cut into squares kick.  i make pancakes and french toast from scratch but i am an eggo user when it comes to waffles.  open the freezer grab the last of the waffles and pop them in the toaster.  do a 180 and pull out a saute pan.

huh?

well, on thursdays we have souper thursday at work and it is my turn to make the soup.  i have some prep work to do.  while my oil and butter are heating up in the saute pan i utilize my wicked knife skills and make quick work of chopping an onion.  as i sweep the onion from my cutting board into the pan and give it a swirl i hear the pop of the toaster.  do a 180 and i'm back at the toaster.

just as i get done syruping and cutting up my sons waffles, my daughter comes sauntering into the kitchen, "can i have oatmeal?"  "yep" as i am delivering a delicious mound of peanut butter and syrup heaven to the table.  a mug of water goes into the microwave and i've got two minutes before it's time to mix the water with the oatmeal. 

two minutes is a super long time in the kitchen.  i pulled my pork roast that was getting yummy in the crock pot overnight and let it rest for a few minutes.  dump the contents of p's oatmeal into a bowl.  season my onions with salt and pepper and give them a quick stir.  time to shred pork.  my onions are golden and starting to caramelize, the pork is shredded and i've got about 30 seconds left on the clock.  dump the onions and pork into the crock pot, add beans, broth and some spices, replace the lid and turn it on high. "mom, can i have some milk?"  the timer on the microwave goes off.  i have two sets of eyes looking at me.  p gets her oatmeal, ash gets his milk and it's 7:30.

my kitchen smells like a spicy mexican restaurant and a bakery.  it's kind of a lot to stomach at 7:15 in the morning.   the competing smells is certifiably nauseating.  with only one cup of coffee on board i am lucky i didn't put peanut butter in my soup or add sauteed onions to the oatmeal.  yep, here is the connection with rachel's trifle a bit of a stretch but that is just how my brain works. 

i would love to say that i came up with the recipe for souper thursday on my own, but who am i kidding i am no chef.  thankfully there are some extremely talented humans out there who do all the leg work for me.  this was a two part recipe.  first you must make the shredded pork.  i did mine in the crock pot overnight.  i seriously love that i can be sleeping and cooking at the same time.  step two is assemble the pork chili verde and let it work its magic. 

 

 

my choice of toppings; cilantro, lime, queso, and green onions. 

pressing my luck...

i had a small disaster this morning or maybe we should view it as a lucky streak.  it all started in the wee hours of the morning.  you know that hour that you-really-should-be-sleeping-and-in-fact-you-were-sleeping-but-your-stupid-overactive-brain-decided-it-was-done-resting-and-has-now-woken-you-up hour?  the one around 3:30?  this is where my story starts. 

i opened my eyes to a dimly lit room, a soft glow at my window from the street light outside.  through my curtains i can make out the shadow of branches swaying in a breeze.  there is no sound, not even a car going by.  i think it must be early if there are no sounds.  a look at the clock and sure enough it's early.

i roll to my left.  i roll to my right.  i lay on my back staring at the ceiling.  my eyes remain open like sentries guarding a gate except there is nothing to guard.  i get up to use the bathroom even though i don't feel like i have to go.  low and behold i did.  i climb back in bed, put on my sweatshirt, turn on my lamp and pick up my book. 

it is now 4:30.  i'm tired of reading so i turn on my computer.  i figured i would write to the person i always write to.  my phone beeps you're still awake?  sometimes i forget the moment i turn my computer on it shows the world that i am awake.  just an fyi, i sleep with my laptop on the side of the bed that never has an occupant and often times i accidentally lay my hand across it.  like a giant ogre my computer rouses out of sleep mode, but i am not actually awake.  anyway, i chat for a few minutes and write for a few minutes.

it is now 5:00.  i hear my coffee pot come to life.  the smell of coffee creeps down the hall to my bed, luring me to the kitchen.  i pour a cup, go back to bed and pick my book back up.  my book is propped up on my legs, i'm holding my full cup to my chest drinking in the aroma and start to read. 

the next thing i know hot fluid is being poured all over me.  i have successfully soaked myself and bedding (to the mattress) in french vanilla creamer enhanced coffee.  surprisingly enough i did not burn myself.  thank you to the many layers of fleece i adorn myself and mattress in.  i didn't leap out of bed.  i may have been in shock.  i just sat there staring at the brown stain wicking across my fleece covers. 

in movements rivaling those of the south american sloth, i stripped my bed and started the process of laundering mountains of bedding.  instead of getting up for the day i poured a fresh cup of coffee, grabbed a blanket from the couch and went back to bed.  much like the weavers, i played the odds and pressed my luck.  and like the weavers i won.  granted it wasn't two lottery winnings in a single weekend, but i did only taking one coffee bath this morning.

precipice...

 

today i stand on the precipice


holding my solemn wish


securely in a closed fist





fear of crushing this wish


prompts me to let go


breath and


pray





you are with me always


i love you



read on...

january reads

 

i am a huge reader.  i plow through a book every few days.  i developed a love of reading by default.  i'm pretty sure i've shared this story before but just in case you missed it here you it is again.  when i was growing up my house went pitch black dark at 8 o'clock, even during the summer.  everyone, including pets, was bed down for the night.  we were not allowed to have our big overhead lights on or music going and this was before a thing called laptops, ipads, and cell phones.  since i wasn't necessarily tired at 8, i read.  turned on my reading lamp and was transported to magical places. 

 

there have been times when i have lost my love of reading, but i always come back to it.  my books are like friends.  during the time i am carressing a books pages the characters are my confidants, their world is my world.  that is until i am done with the book and then i am done in that world and onto the next.  i have a hard time getting rid of books, even ones i didn't care for.  i have an ever growing stack of books on top of my dresser and gracing the shelves of bookcases. 

 

i have read some interesting books this month.  now i am no book critic.  far from it.  i find something interesting, of value, or worthwhile in every, yes i mean every, book i read. 

  

stealing buddha's dinner

 

i picked this book because i loved the little girl on the cover.   the cover says for anyone who has ever felt like an outsider.  i have felt like an outsider many times in my life.  i thought there must be something that will resonate with me even though i'm not a buddhist, i am not an asian refugee, nor was i aware that buddha had a dinner to steal.  the title leads you think that there will be food invovled and there was lots, but i was surprised at how romantic the author made crappy american food sound.  overall it was a decent read.

 

thumbsucker

 

the picture being set sideways caught my attention first.  i was hoping there would be some revelation throughout the story as to the curious position of the picture, but there wasn't i still have no idea why the picture is sideways.  an interesting coming of age story where you get to follow this young man try to navigate life.  he didn't suck his thumb as much as i was hoping for, that sounds strange, but it's true.

 

gone girl

 

this was my book club pick for january.  i probably wouldn't have picked this for myself, but i was pleasantly surprised.  it moved quickly, i loved the way each chapter was told by one of the two main characters.  many twists, turns and jaw dropping surprises.  definitely kept my attention.  i can't say much else because book club hasn't met yet!

 

cannery row

 

a fellow book lover had given me this to read.  another book i would never have picked out for myself.  however, i did love it.  i have read a couple of other steinbeck greats and was surprised at how short this masterpiece is.  my only real complaint about this book is that there were characters that made an appearance for a couple of pages and that was it.  i wanted to know what happened to them. 

the life of edgar sawtelle

 

initially i fell in love with this book, although it could have used some editing, there were sections that just dragged on.  this was a weekend without kids read and i was over the moon to be curled up on my couch following edgar on his adventures.  that is until the end.  i'm not even kidding this book has the worst ending of anything i have ever (and i've read a lot of books) read.  after investing 566 pages of my time edgar he gets killed off.  i was quite angry at the ending.  oops, guess i just gave the ending away.  oh well it isn't worth your time anyway.

 

kitchen confidential

 

a friend of mine had given me this book saying "my sister said this was great."  anthony is crudely raunchy but funny as all get out.  this reads like you are sitting with anthony at the local pub sharing a pint.  although i love food and feel i am fair cook i would never want to be a chef and this book sealed the deal.  i am far too lazy to be a professional chef. 

 

six books for january.  not bad.  let's see if i keep this pace up i will devour 72 books this year.  i have heard many times throughout my life you will make time for the things that are important to you. apparently reading is one of those things. 

 

read on.