I was driving down the highway the other day when "Let Her Cry" by Hootie and the Blowfish came on. (Nevermind there are no longer blowfish, and that "Hootie" is now a boot-wearing country crooner). I was immediately taken back to eighth grade. I could list all kinds of memories it evoked that would be meaningless to most (like basketball season, the purple trampoline we used to have, sleepovers with Lindsey, notes from Sara, dances, and crushes on boys I won't admit), but the main thing that came to my mind was the last day of eighth grade.
I came to school that day with my 35mm camera in tow. I wore a plaid, sleeveless, button-up shirt and my hair was permed (with poofy bangs, of course). I was ready to make the day memorable. It was, after all, my last day of eighth grade. The last day of junior-high. We were MOVING to the high school (which, if you don't know, is separated by nothing more than a double-door between the hallways). Beyond those double doors was a world I'd never known. I was going to be a freshman. Scum on a senior's shoe. It was the END of LIFE as I knew it!
I took all 24 pictures that day. I made sure to get shots of boys I would miss seeing over the summer, and made sure to get pictures of myself with all my friends. Because I might never see them again? I'm not sure what my forethought was, but I know it felt like the end of something huge.
Fast forward to August. New perm, new jeans, and poofier bangs. I was ready to go. I went into school early and pasted those cherished eighth grade pictures to my locker. As the halls filled up, though, I realized my entire eighth grade class was crammed into a few lockers in one hallway. The boys I had pictures of in my locker occupied the locker RIGHT NEXT TO MINE. I was suddenly better acquainted with them than I ever imagined to be. I let a couple of friendships go as we changed and grew, but more than anything I realized that day in late May hadn't been the end. We were all in it together. It was different, but it wasn't the end.
Fast forward again to May 1999. How many times we said, "THIS IS OUR LAST _________ (dance, prom, football game, pep assembly, Christmas break, snow day, Monday, Friday, day) of high school EVER!!!!" If you thought my eighth grade picture mania was bad, you should see the stack of pictures from my senior year. We tried to capture every second, every memory, and we forced some just to say we did. We thought we'd live by that year for the rest of our lives.
When graduation night came, I remember sitting quietly trying to FORCE tears, because I wasn't feeling anything, and all the laws of society and Dawson's Creek said this was the biggest day OF MY LIFE. It felt like any other long, boring school assembly to me.
After graduation we took pictures, we whined and cried to each other how much we'd miss each other, how nothing would ever be the same, and how we'd NEVER forget this year.
The next day I hung out with Lindsey as usual. I still talked to my friends on the phone, and went out on weekends. I saw classmates at Wal-Mart and Newman's, and really nothing changed. We stopped being forced to see each other daily at school, and had the luxury of choosing our friends. We moved on, we changed, we grew, but we kept going. All of us.
Now we are probably more connected than ever. I know more about what goes on in Christina Harder's and Jannie Williamson's daily lives than I ever did in high school. Facebook and e-mail have given us the choice to keep the ties we had in those formidable years.
In the end, it was never really the end. It's never over. We just have to learn how to let go of each phase of our lives and grow into the next. And whether they like it or not, the ones who matter will be along for the ride.
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Dinner for Three?
Last Friday night Bryan and I ventured to Sedalia for some delicious barbecue (ok mostly for a fried portabella mushroom) at Kehde's. It was fairly busy, but not overwhelmingly so.
"Two of you?" the lady asked as we came in the door.
"Yes," I replied. She led us across the floor to a booth in the back. We scooted into the seat, then ordered drinks and the famous mushroom. We began talking idly about nothing in particular. Then I heard it.
"And OH MY GOSH! OH OH LOOK! HERE'S ONE OF ME AND JOE!!! Check this OUT!" I couldn't help but look toward the person seemingly YELLING across his table, letting his words hit the wall beside me and fall on my table. His friend sat quietly beside him as he shoved his camera in each person's face.
He was a lanky gentleman, probably in his early thirties. He wore pressed kakhi shorts, a fitted button-up shirt over a (even MORE fitted) t-shirt with neck, ear, and finger jewelry. His hair was perfectly styled. His lips were large, his voice was high, and he had a listhp ;) I can't say for sure, but I'm really convinced he was a drama major at some time in his life.
I averted my eyes immediately, assuming he had become carried away in his excitement. Immediately I realized I was wrong.
"OK! I'm having the pickles, Joe do you like the pickles?" (insert smirk here) He continued to yell his preferences (about the food, of course) across the room. I started to become irritated, because it was difficult to even carry on a conversation.
FINALLY his "pickles" arrived. Surely food would shut him up. He did quiet down for a few seconds. Ahhh a break. The dull roar of normal diners. The clank of dishes in the kitchen. It sounded almost like silence.
I looked up from my plate to see if he had left, or if he was just politely chewing his food without talking. His concentration was deep as he dipped his pickle. He stuck his tongue out a good four inches to catch it, then confirmed what I already suspected.
"OH MY GOSH I LOVE THESE THINGTHS."
Yep. Food-talker. ;)
"Two of you?" the lady asked as we came in the door.
"Yes," I replied. She led us across the floor to a booth in the back. We scooted into the seat, then ordered drinks and the famous mushroom. We began talking idly about nothing in particular. Then I heard it.
"And OH MY GOSH! OH OH LOOK! HERE'S ONE OF ME AND JOE!!! Check this OUT!" I couldn't help but look toward the person seemingly YELLING across his table, letting his words hit the wall beside me and fall on my table. His friend sat quietly beside him as he shoved his camera in each person's face.
He was a lanky gentleman, probably in his early thirties. He wore pressed kakhi shorts, a fitted button-up shirt over a (even MORE fitted) t-shirt with neck, ear, and finger jewelry. His hair was perfectly styled. His lips were large, his voice was high, and he had a listhp ;) I can't say for sure, but I'm really convinced he was a drama major at some time in his life.
I averted my eyes immediately, assuming he had become carried away in his excitement. Immediately I realized I was wrong.
"OK! I'm having the pickles, Joe do you like the pickles?" (insert smirk here) He continued to yell his preferences (about the food, of course) across the room. I started to become irritated, because it was difficult to even carry on a conversation.
FINALLY his "pickles" arrived. Surely food would shut him up. He did quiet down for a few seconds. Ahhh a break. The dull roar of normal diners. The clank of dishes in the kitchen. It sounded almost like silence.
I looked up from my plate to see if he had left, or if he was just politely chewing his food without talking. His concentration was deep as he dipped his pickle. He stuck his tongue out a good four inches to catch it, then confirmed what I already suspected.
"OH MY GOSH I LOVE THESE THINGTHS."
Yep. Food-talker. ;)
Friday, July 16, 2010
WOW that was surprising
It was a lovely friday afternoon when I found myself looking at the direct sunlight. It was so bright on my eyes I couldnt see anything. I'll never do that again... EVER!!!
Thursday, July 15, 2010
What are you doing here?
It was a typical Saturday night. Chloe was gone to her dad's house, and I was just starting my evening shift at Applebees. I walked toward the table, and immediately recognized the women sitting there. They aren't what I'd call gossips, but they are women...
Anyway, I smiled and greeted them, when one of them interrupted me and said, "Oh my God, what are you doing here?" She had that "ew" look on her face. I wasn't sure if she missed my nametag, or my apron, or the fact that I'd offered to get her something to drink. I fought my sarcasm, though, I did.
"I work weekends over here," I politely replied.
"Oh," she said, relieved. "So you're still teaching."
"No. Right now I'm staying home with Chloe."
"Oh," the "ew" tone was back.
I love teaching. I enjoy being submersed in language and literature on a daily basis. I love the feeling of half-days and long breaks. What I don't like, however, is the constant drama. There are cliques and double standards. The adult drama is often more intense than any of the teenage drama you hear about in the hallways.
I have enjoyed hearing the stories of how I'm this renegade evading the law, or how I was fired from three jobs, or how my license was revoked. However, my exit is just not that glamorous. I was never asked to leave a teaching position, except that one year with Jowell, but the board over-ruled that. I still hold a valid Missouri teaching license, which I will soon need to renew.
The truth is, there came a point where I couldn't take anymore. I needed a break. So I took one. I may go back to teaching in a year, I may go back in five, I may never go back.
For now, I enjoy staying home with Chloe. We spend lazy days in the pool, we run errands together, we watch t.v. together, we play together. We argue and fuss sometimes, and every morning we snuggle in bed together.
On the weekends I work three shifts at Applebees where I average 13 to 17 dollars an hour and take home cash money every weekend. I love my job. I clock out, and other than the occasional Apple-night-mare, work stays at work. Now and then I have a grouchy guest or I drop something, but for the most part I go hang out, do my job, and go home. The people there are enjoyable (mostly), and other than the occasional idiot, the staff is great. I'm stress-free, I have some money, and I'm spending time with my little mini-me.
That lady can feel sorry for me if she wants to, and she can wrinkle her nose at the sight of me with an apron full of straws rather than a red pen and loafers, but for me, for now, this is the good life.
Anyway, I smiled and greeted them, when one of them interrupted me and said, "Oh my God, what are you doing here?" She had that "ew" look on her face. I wasn't sure if she missed my nametag, or my apron, or the fact that I'd offered to get her something to drink. I fought my sarcasm, though, I did.
"I work weekends over here," I politely replied.
"Oh," she said, relieved. "So you're still teaching."
"No. Right now I'm staying home with Chloe."
"Oh," the "ew" tone was back.
I love teaching. I enjoy being submersed in language and literature on a daily basis. I love the feeling of half-days and long breaks. What I don't like, however, is the constant drama. There are cliques and double standards. The adult drama is often more intense than any of the teenage drama you hear about in the hallways.
I have enjoyed hearing the stories of how I'm this renegade evading the law, or how I was fired from three jobs, or how my license was revoked. However, my exit is just not that glamorous. I was never asked to leave a teaching position, except that one year with Jowell, but the board over-ruled that. I still hold a valid Missouri teaching license, which I will soon need to renew.
The truth is, there came a point where I couldn't take anymore. I needed a break. So I took one. I may go back to teaching in a year, I may go back in five, I may never go back.
For now, I enjoy staying home with Chloe. We spend lazy days in the pool, we run errands together, we watch t.v. together, we play together. We argue and fuss sometimes, and every morning we snuggle in bed together.
On the weekends I work three shifts at Applebees where I average 13 to 17 dollars an hour and take home cash money every weekend. I love my job. I clock out, and other than the occasional Apple-night-mare, work stays at work. Now and then I have a grouchy guest or I drop something, but for the most part I go hang out, do my job, and go home. The people there are enjoyable (mostly), and other than the occasional idiot, the staff is great. I'm stress-free, I have some money, and I'm spending time with my little mini-me.
That lady can feel sorry for me if she wants to, and she can wrinkle her nose at the sight of me with an apron full of straws rather than a red pen and loafers, but for me, for now, this is the good life.
Friday, July 9, 2010
Murphy's Andrea's Law
Many times I've referred to Murphy's Law as my own. I discussed my curse of being "left off the list" among other awkward mishaps. I've decided from now on, the law will be referred to as Andrea's Law. If you're unfamiliar with Murphy's Law because you've been living under a rock your whole life, or think it's something Mr. See forgot to teach you, Google it.
Anyway. Wednesday was a prime example of Murphy's, er ah, Andrea's Law. I was reclining on the couch watching Grey's Anatomy re-runs and sipping sweet tea when my phone rang. It was an unfamiliar number, but curiosity got me and I answered it.
"Hey Andrea?" The voice was familiar, but I couldn't place it for the life of me.
"Yeah," I said, my heart pounding for some reason.
"Hey this is Matt from work," all the pieces of the puzzle fit and I was no longer dazed or confused.
"Hey," (Not much of a phone-talker as we know)
"Hey I saw you were wanting someone to work for you Sunday..."
"Um, yeah, that was last week, but..."
"Oh, ok. Well I was really needing someone to work for me tonight at 5."
I told Jodi I owed her one when I didn't work July 4th so I could go out of town with the family. I figured it was collection time.
"Ok, let me see what I can do about Chloe and I'll get back to you here in a little bit," Click. I'm not much for goodbyes either :)
So I left a message with Bryan and got the further details via text. In exchange for working Wednesday, Matt would work my Sunday morning. SCORE. I do only work two days a week, but those two days are Bryan's days off. Those are the days Chloe is usually gone, and those are the days we can stay out late and do what we want, but usually don't because I have to work.
Anyway. Matt also informed me that he worked at 5:15 and was the fourth of four servers (which meant an early release and little clean-up duties). I finally found out that Bryan was able to watch her for a couple hours so I could fill in. He, too, was excited that we'd have Sunday all to ourselves.
Upon my arrival to work, however, I realized I forgot to calculate My Law into the equation. You see, Matt didn't know the evening was already short-staffed. I was the third of three servers, and didn't get home until 10:30. Oh, and Matt works a double on Sunday, he is off on MONDAY, therefore I am STILL working Sunday morning. I guess that is what I get for working for a selfish reason. Gah. The Law.
Speaking of shift-switching, and not so much My Law, after allllll that, I got another strange phone call yesterday. When I checked my voicemail, it was Barguy. Barguy had a serving shift at 5 (this occurred at 3:30 b.t.w.) he needed someone to cover. He had some lame excuse about needing to pay his rent, and was DESPERATE!
I called him back and said I'd have to check on a sitter. I filed my nails, then called him back to let him know, DARN, I didn't find anyone. He was hateful, and tried to make it MY fault he hadn't paid his bills. I'm not much of a sympathizer though.
You see, this is the same barguy who was off last Sunday. The one who wouldn't switch shifts with me because he'd "really rather not work Sunday morning." This is the barguy who is a complete JERK 90% of the time that I'm not ignoring him. And this is THE barguy who wanted me to go out of my way to work for him, and STILL wasn't willing to trade a shift as a make-up.
In the end, I came out 60.00 richer, and barguy got a taste of his own medicine, so maybe My Law isn't always in force...
Anyway. Wednesday was a prime example of Murphy's, er ah, Andrea's Law. I was reclining on the couch watching Grey's Anatomy re-runs and sipping sweet tea when my phone rang. It was an unfamiliar number, but curiosity got me and I answered it.
"Hey Andrea?" The voice was familiar, but I couldn't place it for the life of me.
"Yeah," I said, my heart pounding for some reason.
"Hey this is Matt from work," all the pieces of the puzzle fit and I was no longer dazed or confused.
"Hey," (Not much of a phone-talker as we know)
"Hey I saw you were wanting someone to work for you Sunday..."
"Um, yeah, that was last week, but..."
"Oh, ok. Well I was really needing someone to work for me tonight at 5."
I told Jodi I owed her one when I didn't work July 4th so I could go out of town with the family. I figured it was collection time.
"Ok, let me see what I can do about Chloe and I'll get back to you here in a little bit," Click. I'm not much for goodbyes either :)
So I left a message with Bryan and got the further details via text. In exchange for working Wednesday, Matt would work my Sunday morning. SCORE. I do only work two days a week, but those two days are Bryan's days off. Those are the days Chloe is usually gone, and those are the days we can stay out late and do what we want, but usually don't because I have to work.
Anyway. Matt also informed me that he worked at 5:15 and was the fourth of four servers (which meant an early release and little clean-up duties). I finally found out that Bryan was able to watch her for a couple hours so I could fill in. He, too, was excited that we'd have Sunday all to ourselves.
Upon my arrival to work, however, I realized I forgot to calculate My Law into the equation. You see, Matt didn't know the evening was already short-staffed. I was the third of three servers, and didn't get home until 10:30. Oh, and Matt works a double on Sunday, he is off on MONDAY, therefore I am STILL working Sunday morning. I guess that is what I get for working for a selfish reason. Gah. The Law.
Speaking of shift-switching, and not so much My Law, after allllll that, I got another strange phone call yesterday. When I checked my voicemail, it was Barguy. Barguy had a serving shift at 5 (this occurred at 3:30 b.t.w.) he needed someone to cover. He had some lame excuse about needing to pay his rent, and was DESPERATE!
I called him back and said I'd have to check on a sitter. I filed my nails, then called him back to let him know, DARN, I didn't find anyone. He was hateful, and tried to make it MY fault he hadn't paid his bills. I'm not much of a sympathizer though.
You see, this is the same barguy who was off last Sunday. The one who wouldn't switch shifts with me because he'd "really rather not work Sunday morning." This is the barguy who is a complete JERK 90% of the time that I'm not ignoring him. And this is THE barguy who wanted me to go out of my way to work for him, and STILL wasn't willing to trade a shift as a make-up.
In the end, I came out 60.00 richer, and barguy got a taste of his own medicine, so maybe My Law isn't always in force...
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Stuck
I'm stuck. I want to blog, but I'm stuck. I don't have that little spark. I just felt compelled to tell you. Because I know you stopped by to see if I had written anything new, and I haven't. I pull up this blank box every day, but I never publish anything, because nothing comes out right. So. I'm still here, I'm just stuck. I'll be back when I get un-stuck I suppose :)
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Before I Was a Mom...
Before I was a mom, I slept late every weekend. Now, even four years later, the slightest cry from the other room sends adrenaline coursing through my veins, and hurtles my body out of bed and into her room before I am even conscious.
Before I was a mom, I thought back-talk was unacceptable and knew I wouldn't tolerate it. Now I stifle my laugh when my four year old puts her hand on her hip and tells me how it is. And no matter how angry I am, those big brown eyes and that sweet "am I in trouble?" voice melt me every time.
Before I was a mom little noises distracted me. Now I can tune out even the loudest toy or tapping. I can ignore the "Mom, Mom, Mommy, Mom, Mama, MOM!"
Before I was a mom I had a tight tummy and smooth skin. Now my body is unmistakably "mom," but I have a little girl who tells me every day how pretty I am, and who wants to be just like me.
Before I was a mom, my day-to-day choices didn't really affect anyone. Now I weigh and measure every decision based on how it might or might not affect her life.
Before I was a mom, I ate what I wanted when I wanted. Now I willingly hand over the last bite, the bigger piece, or the only candy bar.
Before I was a mom I didn't notice how inappropriate some tv shows and commercials were. Now I find myself changing channels often.
Before I was a mom, I wasn't a germ-o-phobe. Now, in a public bathroom, I wonder what the other people think as they hear me saying, "Wait, let me cover the seat. Don't touch anything, put your hands on your head so you don't touch anything. I'll wipe you just don't touch anything."
Before I was a mom, I felt like a complete person. Now I know how incomplete I was.
Before I was a mom, I thought back-talk was unacceptable and knew I wouldn't tolerate it. Now I stifle my laugh when my four year old puts her hand on her hip and tells me how it is. And no matter how angry I am, those big brown eyes and that sweet "am I in trouble?" voice melt me every time.
Before I was a mom little noises distracted me. Now I can tune out even the loudest toy or tapping. I can ignore the "Mom, Mom, Mommy, Mom, Mama, MOM!"
Before I was a mom I had a tight tummy and smooth skin. Now my body is unmistakably "mom," but I have a little girl who tells me every day how pretty I am, and who wants to be just like me.
Before I was a mom, my day-to-day choices didn't really affect anyone. Now I weigh and measure every decision based on how it might or might not affect her life.
Before I was a mom, I ate what I wanted when I wanted. Now I willingly hand over the last bite, the bigger piece, or the only candy bar.
Before I was a mom I didn't notice how inappropriate some tv shows and commercials were. Now I find myself changing channels often.
Before I was a mom, I wasn't a germ-o-phobe. Now, in a public bathroom, I wonder what the other people think as they hear me saying, "Wait, let me cover the seat. Don't touch anything, put your hands on your head so you don't touch anything. I'll wipe you just don't touch anything."
Before I was a mom, I felt like a complete person. Now I know how incomplete I was.
Monday, June 21, 2010
Do I Have Athletic Shorts Clean?
In order to get back in my groove, I decided to read through my old blogs. I remember "Do I Have Wrinkle-Free Pants Clean?" being highly controversial. I am here now to say I have been on BOTH sides of that fence, and here is my Bizzaro-Blog to it!
I've always wanted to stay home with Chloe. From the minute she was born I wished there could come a day I didn't have to get up and leave her. I enjoyed my summers, holiday breaks, and weekends at home, but I always wished I could stay home. I envied my friends, and became irritated when they complained about their mundane stay-at-home lives.
Well, ladies and gentelmen, the tables have finally turned. So to be fair, I shall brief you on a typical day in my shoes.
7:51 - Alarm goes off. Bryan tells me goodbye and leaves. I mumble something back.
8:15 - "Good Morning, Mama. Rise and Shine sleepy head!" Chloe gives me kisses and climbs in bed with me. We snuggle and usually both go back to sleep.
9:00 - "Mom what's for breftkist?" I fix her a pop tart, toast, or whatever she decides she wants.
9:30 - I shower and throw on a t-shirt and athletic shorts. Then gather laundry, flip on Noggin for her while she eats, and gather dishes. Start a load of laundry and pick up clutter.
10:50 - Time to start lunch. Grilled cheese, chips and tea. I LOVE IT!
11:00 - Lunch and Ellen. Every day.
12:00 - Switch laundry, do dishes, lay out supper. Take Chloe out to play/swim/etc.
3:00 - Chloe wants to come in. Switch laundry, maybe sweep, watch tv, she has had enough of me for now and plays in her room with her door closed and All the Single Ladies blaring.
5:00 - Bryan's home. He thinks we should go to the lake for a while. Yay.
5:30 - Swim swim swim
6:30 - Load our stuff, drive home.
7:00 - I cook dinner, Chloe plays, Bryan watches tv.
7:30 - DINNER! Eat, clean up.
8:00 - Chloe you need to take a bath. "Can I play in my sand a little?" It's summer. What the heck.
8:30 - Chloe bath, we visit.
8:50 - MOOOOOOOOOM! I'm ready to get OUTTTTTTT!
9:00 - Brush teeth, drink, book, snuggles, bed.
9:15 - We watch tv, catch up on our days, maybe eat a snack.
11:00 - Bed time. Do I have athletic shorts clean? Yes. I washed 3 loads of laundry today :)
I. LOVE. MY. LIFE. Yes I get bored or lonely for an adult sometimes, but it's worth it, and I wouldn't trade it for anything!!!
I've always wanted to stay home with Chloe. From the minute she was born I wished there could come a day I didn't have to get up and leave her. I enjoyed my summers, holiday breaks, and weekends at home, but I always wished I could stay home. I envied my friends, and became irritated when they complained about their mundane stay-at-home lives.
Well, ladies and gentelmen, the tables have finally turned. So to be fair, I shall brief you on a typical day in my shoes.
7:51 - Alarm goes off. Bryan tells me goodbye and leaves. I mumble something back.
8:15 - "Good Morning, Mama. Rise and Shine sleepy head!" Chloe gives me kisses and climbs in bed with me. We snuggle and usually both go back to sleep.
9:00 - "Mom what's for breftkist?" I fix her a pop tart, toast, or whatever she decides she wants.
9:30 - I shower and throw on a t-shirt and athletic shorts. Then gather laundry, flip on Noggin for her while she eats, and gather dishes. Start a load of laundry and pick up clutter.
10:50 - Time to start lunch. Grilled cheese, chips and tea. I LOVE IT!
11:00 - Lunch and Ellen. Every day.
12:00 - Switch laundry, do dishes, lay out supper. Take Chloe out to play/swim/etc.
3:00 - Chloe wants to come in. Switch laundry, maybe sweep, watch tv, she has had enough of me for now and plays in her room with her door closed and All the Single Ladies blaring.
5:00 - Bryan's home. He thinks we should go to the lake for a while. Yay.
5:30 - Swim swim swim
6:30 - Load our stuff, drive home.
7:00 - I cook dinner, Chloe plays, Bryan watches tv.
7:30 - DINNER! Eat, clean up.
8:00 - Chloe you need to take a bath. "Can I play in my sand a little?" It's summer. What the heck.
8:30 - Chloe bath, we visit.
8:50 - MOOOOOOOOOM! I'm ready to get OUTTTTTTT!
9:00 - Brush teeth, drink, book, snuggles, bed.
9:15 - We watch tv, catch up on our days, maybe eat a snack.
11:00 - Bed time. Do I have athletic shorts clean? Yes. I washed 3 loads of laundry today :)
I. LOVE. MY. LIFE. Yes I get bored or lonely for an adult sometimes, but it's worth it, and I wouldn't trade it for anything!!!
Friday, June 18, 2010
I'm BACK, baby!
I'm baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack! YAY! Oh bloggy blog I've missed you so much! So many quirky stories left untold; so many nosy people left in the dark. :)
I'm so glad I am back online and can actually blog again. I've been living on phone Internet for the past 6 months or so, and only YESTERDAY realized I can steal the Internet FROM my phone and use it on the laptop. Hooray technology!
As for my blog, well I'm blowing the dust off, and sweeping out the cobwebs. It will be a day or two before I'm back in my groove, but I'm sooooooo excited :) Ah yes it is the little things.
I did also want to call attention to my last post. Seems someone thought it was cool to find my blog address (on facebook I assume) and nose throught allllllll my blogs, then attack my "writing" and my knowledge because I mistyped the word "too" as "to." As if I don't know the difference. Anyway, I love writing my blog, and I don't care who reads it, because I don't put anything too personal in it. However, I am writing about my family and feelings, and if someone doesn't like how I write or what I write, they shouldn't be reading this.
So, if you're here just to nose, you won't find any juicy, gory details of my life. You won't find any exciting information that you can gossip about. You'll just find the little glimmers of my day-to-day life that make it worth living to me. If you think my writing is that bad, then what does that say about you continuing to read it? Holy life!!
Ha ha. I do appreciate my good readers, though, and look forward to entertaining you with my so-called blog :)
I'm so glad I am back online and can actually blog again. I've been living on phone Internet for the past 6 months or so, and only YESTERDAY realized I can steal the Internet FROM my phone and use it on the laptop. Hooray technology!
As for my blog, well I'm blowing the dust off, and sweeping out the cobwebs. It will be a day or two before I'm back in my groove, but I'm sooooooo excited :) Ah yes it is the little things.
I did also want to call attention to my last post. Seems someone thought it was cool to find my blog address (on facebook I assume) and nose throught allllllll my blogs, then attack my "writing" and my knowledge because I mistyped the word "too" as "to." As if I don't know the difference. Anyway, I love writing my blog, and I don't care who reads it, because I don't put anything too personal in it. However, I am writing about my family and feelings, and if someone doesn't like how I write or what I write, they shouldn't be reading this.
So, if you're here just to nose, you won't find any juicy, gory details of my life. You won't find any exciting information that you can gossip about. You'll just find the little glimmers of my day-to-day life that make it worth living to me. If you think my writing is that bad, then what does that say about you continuing to read it? Holy life!!
Ha ha. I do appreciate my good readers, though, and look forward to entertaining you with my so-called blog :)
Sunday, November 15, 2009
I'm Blocked =/
So at my school they decided that blogger is to "chatty" and should be blocked. UGH. So I'm behind on my blogging. My free hour was the perfect time for that, and now it's one of the things that goes by the wayside in my home time. Sorry :(
I'll get back into it soon. I have too many kettles on the stove or irons in the fire or whatever cliche you want to use. :)
I'll be back soon. Keep checking in!
I'll get back into it soon. I have too many kettles on the stove or irons in the fire or whatever cliche you want to use. :)
I'll be back soon. Keep checking in!
Saturday, November 7, 2009
She's Not Perfect, But Almost :)
I'm missing my Chloe this weekend, so obviously she is on my mind. I have an amazing little girl who has personality, charisma, twinkling eyes, and a heart of gold. Chloe has her shortcomings, as any three-year-old does, but it amazes me how well-behaved and compliant she is. She wants to please her mama, and those around her.
When I walked in her room I saw her Halloween treats. There on the floor (among the Polly Pocket and Little People mess) was her neon pumpkin, full of treats, and her Disney Princess trick-or-treat bag, about half-full (candy overload, people!). This girl has a weakness for chocolate bigger than even my own.
However, she has played in her room for two days, and the only candy she's consumed are those pieces she oh-so-politely asked if she could eat. There are no empty wrappers, no stashed candies, no trails of Skittles.
Obviously she has more self-control than I do since the reason I went in there was to swipe some of her stash :)
When I walked in her room I saw her Halloween treats. There on the floor (among the Polly Pocket and Little People mess) was her neon pumpkin, full of treats, and her Disney Princess trick-or-treat bag, about half-full (candy overload, people!). This girl has a weakness for chocolate bigger than even my own.
However, she has played in her room for two days, and the only candy she's consumed are those pieces she oh-so-politely asked if she could eat. There are no empty wrappers, no stashed candies, no trails of Skittles.
Obviously she has more self-control than I do since the reason I went in there was to swipe some of her stash :)
Monday, November 2, 2009
I'm As Selfish As They Come...
Here goes another one of those blogs where I (GASP) express my opinion and offend someone. Readers beware :)
I've been having one of those nagging feelings again. You know, the one where something just keeps coming up, and I want to say something but I don't? Yeah. That one.
A conversation comes to mind.
"Have you heard that new Revelation Song?" my friend asks. My face has a puzzled look, I'm sure. It's not puzzled because I don't know what she means. It's puzzled because it's not what I'd call "new."
"By Kari Jobe?" I ask. Now she has the puzzled look.
"No, I think it's Phillips, Craig, and Dean."
"Hmm. Guess I haven't." I respond. Almost by Divine Intervention, I get into my car and flip to KCVO. Lo and behold, I hear PCD singing Revelation Song.
Since it "FIRST" came out, it's been all over the radio, and we even sing it at church now. I like the song, and the version is good, but it's not MY Revelation Song. We sing it too fast. It has lost its power in it's new, jazzier form. Everyone who doesn't know better loves it, but in my selfish little heart I want to say, "I HEARD IT FIRST! I LIKED IT FIRST!"
I first came across the song in January 2008. I love a good re-make, but I have to say I think Kari Jobe's original version is much more powerful, and sounds a little less pop-i-fied.
Click Here if you want to hear for yourself.
The music lover/guru in me comes out when people mess with my music. Sometimes with her claws out ;)
P.S. if you DO like it and end up checking her out, I also love "The More I Seek You," and "My Beloved," so don't EVEN think you found them first ;)
I've been having one of those nagging feelings again. You know, the one where something just keeps coming up, and I want to say something but I don't? Yeah. That one.
A conversation comes to mind.
"Have you heard that new Revelation Song?" my friend asks. My face has a puzzled look, I'm sure. It's not puzzled because I don't know what she means. It's puzzled because it's not what I'd call "new."
"By Kari Jobe?" I ask. Now she has the puzzled look.
"No, I think it's Phillips, Craig, and Dean."
"Hmm. Guess I haven't." I respond. Almost by Divine Intervention, I get into my car and flip to KCVO. Lo and behold, I hear PCD singing Revelation Song.
Since it "FIRST" came out, it's been all over the radio, and we even sing it at church now. I like the song, and the version is good, but it's not MY Revelation Song. We sing it too fast. It has lost its power in it's new, jazzier form. Everyone who doesn't know better loves it, but in my selfish little heart I want to say, "I HEARD IT FIRST! I LIKED IT FIRST!"
I first came across the song in January 2008. I love a good re-make, but I have to say I think Kari Jobe's original version is much more powerful, and sounds a little less pop-i-fied.
Click Here if you want to hear for yourself.
The music lover/guru in me comes out when people mess with my music. Sometimes with her claws out ;)
P.S. if you DO like it and end up checking her out, I also love "The More I Seek You," and "My Beloved," so don't EVEN think you found them first ;)
Friday, October 30, 2009
A, double U, K, double U, A, R, D.
All my life I've been the victim of the awkward situation. It can be anything, and I've even joked that I may change my name to Murphy because I fit his law to a T.
When I was younger (and skinnier) I often had the problem of boys thinking I liked them when I didn't. I am a quiet girl, and I try very hard not to be rude (no comments from some of you), and so I suppose that in my laid-back, easy-going way I must have given these boys the impression that I not only CARED what they had to say, but I also ENJOYED their presence. Most of them were wrong :) Then I was stuck in that weird place of wanting to be nice to them, but not "liking them like that," and eventually having to say so.
In middle school my "not on the list" curse began. It never failed, there was at least one class per year in which the teacher would say, "Is anyone in the room who was NOT on my list?" At which point I would slowly raise my hand. Inevitably she wouldn't see my hand, and would begin moving on, when someone bolder than I would shout, "Andrea! You didn't call Andrea's name!"
"Why didn't you say something?" the teacher would question. I'd shrug, embarrassed. The whole time I was thinking, "I raised my hand, stupid. Isn't that what you teach us? Raise your hand don't shout out? UGH!"
The curse continued all the way to college. I, most likely the least-outspoken person in the class, was always put in a situation where I had to speak out. I wasn't on the list. I was called on when I was daydreaming. I was in the wrong class, wrong room, wrong building.
Even in adulthood I am constantly a victim of "...and did we leave anyone out?" at beginning of the year introductions. A co-worker will push me forward or shout my name. WHY am I NEVER on the list???
That's only where it begins. I can't count the number of times I've noticed someone's one crazy gray hair shooting out of their head, or a blackhead on their lip (I know, I know), or their un-zipped pants. I try to look away the instant I notice, but before I can avert my eyes, they ALWAYS notice me looking.
I'm also not a huge fan of eye-contact, so when I'm trying to find a spot upon which to fix my gaze, they always ALWAYS think they have a booger. I can see the thought go right through their minds! I KNOW they go to the bathroom after our conversations to check! I want to say sometimes, "You don't have a booger. I just don't look people in the eye."
Is it just me who falls victim to the ongoing awkward situation? Do you all face them daily as I do, or is it just stamped in my genes somewhere? Maybe I attract awkwardness. I've always labeled myself as awkward. Maybe it's not the situation...maybe it's....ME?
When I was younger (and skinnier) I often had the problem of boys thinking I liked them when I didn't. I am a quiet girl, and I try very hard not to be rude (no comments from some of you), and so I suppose that in my laid-back, easy-going way I must have given these boys the impression that I not only CARED what they had to say, but I also ENJOYED their presence. Most of them were wrong :) Then I was stuck in that weird place of wanting to be nice to them, but not "liking them like that," and eventually having to say so.
In middle school my "not on the list" curse began. It never failed, there was at least one class per year in which the teacher would say, "Is anyone in the room who was NOT on my list?" At which point I would slowly raise my hand. Inevitably she wouldn't see my hand, and would begin moving on, when someone bolder than I would shout, "Andrea! You didn't call Andrea's name!"
"Why didn't you say something?" the teacher would question. I'd shrug, embarrassed. The whole time I was thinking, "I raised my hand, stupid. Isn't that what you teach us? Raise your hand don't shout out? UGH!"
The curse continued all the way to college. I, most likely the least-outspoken person in the class, was always put in a situation where I had to speak out. I wasn't on the list. I was called on when I was daydreaming. I was in the wrong class, wrong room, wrong building.
Even in adulthood I am constantly a victim of "...and did we leave anyone out?" at beginning of the year introductions. A co-worker will push me forward or shout my name. WHY am I NEVER on the list???
That's only where it begins. I can't count the number of times I've noticed someone's one crazy gray hair shooting out of their head, or a blackhead on their lip (I know, I know), or their un-zipped pants. I try to look away the instant I notice, but before I can avert my eyes, they ALWAYS notice me looking.
I'm also not a huge fan of eye-contact, so when I'm trying to find a spot upon which to fix my gaze, they always ALWAYS think they have a booger. I can see the thought go right through their minds! I KNOW they go to the bathroom after our conversations to check! I want to say sometimes, "You don't have a booger. I just don't look people in the eye."
Is it just me who falls victim to the ongoing awkward situation? Do you all face them daily as I do, or is it just stamped in my genes somewhere? Maybe I attract awkwardness. I've always labeled myself as awkward. Maybe it's not the situation...maybe it's....ME?
Monday, October 19, 2009
Randomness.
I have several "sparks" this morning in my mind, but nothing that is worthy of its own blog. Therefore, I am just going to shoot off my random thoughts and call it a cobblage (that's co-blah-zsh like collage with blog :) )
First of all, have you SEEN Faith Hill lately? She has always been one of my favorites. Her look, her voice, her personality. I just love her. When I saw her on a football commercial, though, I didn't even recognize her! I am almost certain she's had 'work' done, and to me that just makes women look WORSE. She's a beautiful woman, and it's sad to me that she feels the need to maintain the image of a twenty year old. Our society is so whacked!
On a younger note, I took Chlo and Mom to the pumpkin patch Saturday. We had such a nice time, and I got a pumkin and a half for two fifty! I also got some great pictures. We then ventured over to Cameron's birthday party. Social gatherings are not really my thing, so I was kind of dreading it, but it turned out to be a great time. Chloe had a blast, and I enjoyed catching up with Jodi and her family. Chloe told Jodi it was the BEST birthday party EVER! She had so much fun, and now all she talks about is Cameron :)
On my weight watching note, I'm doing ok. My basic method is not to weigh myself, but to gauge by my jeans and pants how I'm doing. I'm doing well I think. This morning I fought the urge to buy a doughnut from my 8th grade fund raiser. Instead I am currently having a Diet Coke and a (gasp) Nutty Bar. I know. But I didn't have breakfast, so I'm counting the peanut butter as my protien, and splitting the calories between breakfast and a mid-morning snack. See, it's almost like I'm eating well :)
It's a short week at school due to parent teacher conferences, which means some long nights in return. I'd rather work late and be off Friday, though, and there are rumors of Pizza.
That's the up-to-the-minute on The Real World. Have a fabulous Monday. It's going to be beautiful.
First of all, have you SEEN Faith Hill lately? She has always been one of my favorites. Her look, her voice, her personality. I just love her. When I saw her on a football commercial, though, I didn't even recognize her! I am almost certain she's had 'work' done, and to me that just makes women look WORSE. She's a beautiful woman, and it's sad to me that she feels the need to maintain the image of a twenty year old. Our society is so whacked!
On a younger note, I took Chlo and Mom to the pumpkin patch Saturday. We had such a nice time, and I got a pumkin and a half for two fifty! I also got some great pictures. We then ventured over to Cameron's birthday party. Social gatherings are not really my thing, so I was kind of dreading it, but it turned out to be a great time. Chloe had a blast, and I enjoyed catching up with Jodi and her family. Chloe told Jodi it was the BEST birthday party EVER! She had so much fun, and now all she talks about is Cameron :)
On my weight watching note, I'm doing ok. My basic method is not to weigh myself, but to gauge by my jeans and pants how I'm doing. I'm doing well I think. This morning I fought the urge to buy a doughnut from my 8th grade fund raiser. Instead I am currently having a Diet Coke and a (gasp) Nutty Bar. I know. But I didn't have breakfast, so I'm counting the peanut butter as my protien, and splitting the calories between breakfast and a mid-morning snack. See, it's almost like I'm eating well :)
It's a short week at school due to parent teacher conferences, which means some long nights in return. I'd rather work late and be off Friday, though, and there are rumors of Pizza.
That's the up-to-the-minute on The Real World. Have a fabulous Monday. It's going to be beautiful.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
..Seeds.
Those "seeds" combined with a low temperature got Chloe kicked out of school for a day or two. Apparently you can't have poop seeds and stay at school ;) So we're home and hoping to go back to school Friday. I no more than published that post when I got the call. Ah Universe. You crack me up.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)