tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-205397162024-03-07T15:22:54.738-06:00Cynical OptimismSpasmodic ramblings of a caffeine addicted Mom/Writer wading through the pandemonium of lifeDragonflyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09765108940676765396noreply@blogger.comBlogger312125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20539716.post-40202918225196033802009-08-02T12:04:00.006-05:002009-08-02T12:38:15.847-05:00Put Some Lime In Your Coconut<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I feel like I'm always apologizing to you folks for not blogging. *sigh* The truth is, I'm just busy. And I'm not writing, which makes me cranky. And you know what? I don't like blogging cranky.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I do like blogging cupcakes, though. And my Coconut Key-Lime Cupcakes seems to get a lot of hits on this blog! Every. Single. Week. I find someone searching for those. It's just wild.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">So, here they are and then hopefully, later this week, I'll blog about our annual family reunion. I still haven't gone through the pictures yet!</span><br /><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365419329166901602" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHdvVsUlKXJLadJKYJ26j1l1RrJa4UMsNE7KS7IeDEApGby3d8pZtYvlhaNMA0H8w1JcSz51xGDXEsUTN5_39BKFoORarRDbowTlRzAgJers7n80ZuRyaiAtyBpEkpiHzn_E6t/s320/Coconut+Cupcakes" /> <span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">First, you want to do your filling. It needs to set up in the fridge and get nice and chilly.</span></p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#009900;">Key Lime Pie Filling</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"><em>Will fill 48 regular cupcakes with a little more than a teaspoon each or 24 with a tablespoon/ 325° oven</em></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>4 large or extra large egg yolks</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>1 14oz can sweetened condensed milk</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>½ cup fresh key lime juice (approx. 6 – 8 limes)</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>2 teaspoons grated lime zest</em></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">1. Preheat oven to 325°.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">2. Beat the egg yolks until they are thick and turn light yellow.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">3. Turn mixer off and add the sweetened condensed milk.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">4. Turn speed to low and then add half of the lime juice.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">5. Once the juice is incorporated, add the remainder of the juice and mix until blended.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">6. Add the grated lime zest and stir in by hand.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">7. Pour the mixture into a regular glass pie dish (or any glass dish which will fit inside a larger baking dish/pan).</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">8. Set dish with mixture into a larger pan. Fill larger pan half full of hot water.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">9. Place in oven and bake until custard is just set in the middle, about 13 minutes.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">10. Remove from the oven and carefully remove the pie dish. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">11. Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate at least 3-4 hours or overnight.</span> </p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Now, let's move on to the cupcakes themselves, the stars of the show, the package to contain the yummy goodness of key lime filling...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="color:#009900;">Coconut Cupcakes</span> </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"><em>24 regular cupcakes / 350° oven</em></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>2 sticks unsalted butter, room temperature</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>2 cups sugar</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>4 large eggs, room temperature</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>2-2/3 cups all-purpose flour</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>1-teaspoon baking powder</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>1-teaspoon baking soda</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>1/4-teaspoon salt</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>1 cup canned coconut milk (shake can well before opening)</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>2 teaspoons vanilla</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>1 cup shredded sweetened coconut</em></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">1. Beat butter on high until soft, about 30 seconds.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">2. Add sugar. Beat on medium-high until light and fluffy, about 3 minutes.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">3. Add eggs one at a time, beating for 30 seconds between each.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">4. Whisk together flour, baking powder, and baking soda in a bowl.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">5. Measure out milk and vanilla together.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">6. Add about a fourth of the flour to the butter/sugar mixture and beat to combine.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">7. Add about one third of the milk/vanilla mixture and beat until combined.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">8. Repeat above, alternating the flour and milk, ending with the flour mixture.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">9. Scoop into cupcake papers, about three-quarters full. (one ice cream scoop does really well)</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">10. Bake for 20-22 minutes until a cake tester comes out clean.** </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">** My oven runs hot, but even so… mine only took 13 minutes @ 325 to bake to a perfect pale golden brown. You might want to test one before baking all of them because you do <em>not</em> want to over-bake these - they will get very dry.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Next, while all of your cupcakes are cooling and your filling is chilling, it's time to hit the buttercream!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#009900;">Coconut-Lime Buttercream Frosting</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"><em>Enough to lightly frost 24 regular cupcakes</em></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>1 stick butter, room temperature</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>4-5 cups powdered sugar, sifted</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>1/4 cup canned coconut milk (shake can well before opening)</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>1-1/2 teaspoon lime zest</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><em>1/2 teaspoon lime juice (for an extra kick)</em></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>Optional</em> - <em>1 - 2 Tablespoons of Coconut Rum (though you'll need to add a little more sugar or decrease the coconut milk for this)</em></span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">1. Beat butter on high for about 30 seconds until soft.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">2. Add 1 cup of sugar until incorporated.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">3. Add half the milk and the remainder of the sugar and beat until incorporated. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">4. Add zest; continue to add milk until you reach the desired consistency. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Note -- Here's where some alcohol can come into play. Either add a few Tablespoons of coconut rum to the mix when you're putting in the milk OR replace some of the coconut milk with the coconut rum. I can't remember which one I did... but I did not use any more than 4 Tablespoons (that I recall - it's very possible I used more because I was tasting the rum as I added... Heh.)</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Now, you have filling chilling, cupcakes cooling, and frosting hanging out in the bowl. Let's toast some coconut for the pretty topping. Be careful with this part... it's burns easily!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="color:#009900;">Toasted Coconut</span> </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">1. Using either sweetened or fresh grated coconut, place on tin foil lined pan in 325° oven, for about 10 minutes, tossing often to get an even golden color.</span> </p><p><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">OR - this is what I did for the latest batch (and liked it much better than using the oven) --- toss some sweetened coconut into a non-stick skillet and warm over medium heat until it just starts turning golden brown. Remove and place in a ziplock back (left open to release condensation) until you use it. Save any leftover in the bag and use on other things --- I tossed a handful into some ginger teriyaki rice the other night and Oh! My! Heaven!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Finally, it's time to put together some cupcakes! </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Though time-intensive, the results really are worth it.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#009900;">To Assemble:</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">1. Using a small paring knife, go in at a 45 degree angle a scant 1/3" from the edge and cut out a circle from the top, leaving you with a cone. Flip the top over and cut off the cone. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">2. Fill the cavity with teaspoon or so of filling. (I used a melon ball scoop, made it very simple)</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">3. Replace the top.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">4. Frost with frosting.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">5. Decorate the top with toasted coconut.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#009900;">To Assemble with Coconut Rum in play:</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">1. Cut out your cone, as instructed above.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">2. Using a spritzer bottle (seriously, I took a little old bottle of spray conditioner and cleaned the hell out of it and then filled it with rum), give the inside of the cupcake a good few sprays of rum. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">3. Then, fill the cavity with filling, while singing the lime-in-the-coconut song.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">4. Replace the top.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">5. Spray MORE rum on it. OR if you want to get <em>serious</em>, get a basting brush and a small bowl of rum, brush the tops once, twice, three times with a nice rum coating. Set aside. Add a few spritzes to your mouth. Sing louder. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">6. Continue until all the cupcakes are done. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">7. Spray MORE rum on the tops (unless you basted them - then, they probably already have had enough. Spray it into your mouth instead). I sprayed each top about 5 times. If your spray bottle really spritzes, you might want to do less or just do it until you're sick of hearing yourself sing. I never get tired of hearing myself sing... so I did quite a bit, I'm sure.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">8. Now, frost them and decorate with toasted coconut.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Take these gems to a summer BBQ or a heat-wave pool party. You'll be the talk of the town. They're refreshing and islandy and ooooh gimme more! I have to go bake these now. </span></p>Dragonflyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09765108940676765396noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20539716.post-63677540115923401422009-07-19T12:57:00.004-05:002009-07-19T13:19:16.704-05:00New Distractions<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Hi, my name is Dragonfly and I'm a blogging failure. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Okay, so maybe that's a little harsh on myself. It's not that I FORGET to blog. I've actually pulled the blog screen up almost every day for the past two weeks... but then I get distracted by something shiny. Or possibly aliens have taken over my brain via HULU. <---- it's that one.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Dude. Hulu ROCKS! I am on the third season of Sliders right now and it makes working from home VERY COMFY. Just sayin'. My brain is the pink mush.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">The other thing keeping me from the blog is my new boyfriend. His name is New House and we are already having relationship issues. I have discovered that being in a relationship with New House means I have soooooo many decisions to make and.... </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Have I told you how indecisive I can be?????</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">I have spent weeks and weeks on picking out lights and doorknobs and flooring and paint colors... and I'm kinda not having too much fun with New House any longer. Especially when Mr. Husband gets involved. He tends to <em>conveniently</em> forget conversations we've had about New House -- I've noticed these are usually involving decisions he doesn't necessarily agree with but thought it probably better not to disagree at the time... Thus he just <em>forgets</em> he agreed to something. Very passive-aggressive.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">New House is not good for marriage. Really. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">We will be signing a contract with the builder in the next week or so and then heading out to get the loan. I imagine there is umpteen deep dark VATS of stress being Fed-Ex'd my way right now. Anyone have a fairy wand to turn them into bubbly pink vats of giggle? I'd much prefer the giggle.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Other than that, things are just keepin' on. Our annual family reunion is next weekend and I have NEVER been so ready for late night Spoons playing and laughter out the wazoo. C-Boy and his kiddo are joining us this year so we are REALLY going to have a full house. The drinks of the year will be Pomegranite Margaritas and Mojitos. YUM. I have feeling the entire weekend is going to be a hangover if I'm not careful with those!</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">I will definitely report back on all the fun and games as we were told, "there are to be GAMES... as in "bring an extra pair of clothes for the games we are planning this year --- stuff to get us off our butts and bring on an appetite." This is all I know. No other hints. My ankles are saying, "Ummm... more hints please? Do we need to be wrapped?" </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Well I am off. There are two very sweaty, VERY tan, sexy men hanging out on my father-in-law's roof and I mean to get in some eye candy before I start my afternoon!! Yes, I am shallow... but if I posted pictures you would TOTALLY understand.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span>Dragonflyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09765108940676765396noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20539716.post-28184737490902500042009-07-03T12:18:00.002-05:002009-07-03T12:20:46.706-05:00<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Being a fan of both Twilight and Buffy... this just tickles me.<br /><br /><br /></span><iframe height="451" marginheight="0" src="http://www.whedontube.com/embed/player/?content=R888M12ZGL1VZKDQ&widget_type_cid=svp" frameborder="0" width="420" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no"></iframe><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span>Dragonflyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09765108940676765396noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20539716.post-44189822350199153362009-06-14T12:51:00.005-05:002009-06-14T13:38:49.244-05:003 Good Excuses<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Yes, I know how long it's been... again... since I've blogged. I'm SUCH a bad blogger! But I have excuses. Really, really good ones:</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Excuse the 1st: The tendonitis in my hand flared up something awful.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">---- You know those neat little Levaquin class-action lawsuit commercials you may have seen on TV lately? They dramatically go on about people getting ruptured tendons and tendonitis from taking Levaquin? And you should call their 800 # immediately to SUE SUE SUE! Well, yeah. I took the Levaquin (when I had that awful staph infection). And then? Look! I have tendonitis in my hand! That came from nowhere! So. Fun. At least I know what prompted it. The flare-up this week was from handwriting. I was working on my plot and BAM! Pain. Since then it's been heat wraps and Lidocaine patches. Yay.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">It seems I may no longer write long-hand but have to take up typing my manuscript again. ERG! I love my new computer but I hate hate hate the new keyboard; it's very FLAT.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Excuse the 2nd: I have been in a MAJOR FUNK and I do not really like to share my funk with the world. </span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">---- There have been some across-the-board "respect" issues in our house lately, to the point I shut down completely and announced "If things do not change here, I am packing a bag and going to the most expensive hotel I can find, where I will hang out and play Home Alone, ringing up the most massive room-service bill you ever saw!" It worked. And I did not even have to pack to prove my seriousness. But in the meantime, blogging was not my thing.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Excuse the 3rd: Mr. Clean snores.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">---- When Mr. Clean and I first got married, he had this pillow... Oh My God, that pillow. It was this hideous hard foam thing straight from the 70's (though new at the time). It was heavy and hard and I could not figure out for the life of me how he slept on that thing. Fast forward some years... He STILL had that pillow. I became convinced that there was NO WAY a pillow more than 15 years old was NOT teeming with some sort of dust mite or bed bug or.... EWWWWW. SO I convinced Mr. Clean the pillow of joy and dreaming Had. To. Go. because I was sleeping right next to it and did not want invisible creepy-crawlies near my head or nose or mouth.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">The pillow was tossed. A new one was bought. And the snoring started. I did not mind at the time because see, I snore. Badly. So I could not hear his snores over my snores. Heh. </span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Then, I had to start wearing a little mouth guard at night because I like to crunch-crunch-crunch my teeth and give myself the TMJ (tendonitis, again. What is it with me?!). Once I started wearing the pretty-footballer-esqe mouth gear.... no snoring on my part. Ever. Again.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Now three pillows and a year later, Mr. Clean's snoring has gotten to the point I do not go to bed until almost 4am. Sometimes 5am. I kick him (gently-ish) in his sleep to get him to stop. I push him over. I dream about holding my hand over his mouth and nose. And some nights, it's so bad, I shove him out of bed and make him sleep on the couch. Really, folks. I'm not an awful person. The snoring is HIDEOUS LOUD (this WITH the Breath-Right strips)! </span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">One night, I had this horrible, earth-shattering mind-numbing pee-your-pants nightmare that I fallen into a DITCH and a growling zombie was pinning me down, attempting to eat out my brains. I woke up to find Mr. Clean had rolled over onto my arm and was snoring in my face. Of course, since I had just woken from a nightmare, I SCREAMED and borked the bejezus out of him. Because... hello! Zombie! Eating my brain! And then he woke up and screamed and borked me back because he dreamt someone was attacking him... Go. Figure. </span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">So. I have not slept much lately... or not good solid rest-your-body-and-brain sleep. And a non-rested Dragonfly = a Dragonfly who is too stinkin' tired to blog (and cranky, to boot). You can actually track - on the blog - where the posts started to fall off the chart. That's when my sleep became jacked up.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Yesterday, I spent $80.00 on a PILLOW. A memory foam stop-your-partner-from-snoring expensive as sh*t pillow. And I tell you what... if it stops that ghastly noise? It is SO worth it. If not? *sigh* I will then spend another $80+ on another pillow that claims it will stop the snoring. And if that doesn't work? You will see me on Nancy Grace, having smothered my husband to death in his sleep.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">In almost 19 years of marriage, there is one thing I have learned exponentially... messing with a person's sleep is... OMG... one of the worst obstacles a marriage can deal with. I can't even express the occasional loathing that I have experienced with this issue. And it makes me feel awful but DUDE! I Need! To! Sleep! You know?</span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">So. That's why I have not been blogging.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">And in a complete 180 degree turn... Tonight is the Season Premiere of <a href="http://www.hbo.com/trueblood/"><span style="color:#cc0000;">TRUE BLOOD</span></a>, Season 2!!! Yay! I am SO hooked on this show. Last season, we started True Blood Sundays... which involve a nice dinner and dessert and then True Blood viewing pleasure. Tonight I am cooking Beef Stroganoff w/ buttered parsley noodles. No dessert, unless C-Boy brings it because... Well, I don't have an excuse for that one. I don't feel like going to the store to get dessert items? Because my behind is too big for dessert? *shrug*</span></p><p><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Either way - dessert or no - tonight is going to ROCK. I'm so excited!</span></p><p><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span> </p><p><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span> </p>Dragonflyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09765108940676765396noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20539716.post-10950912552120642992009-05-30T14:23:00.005-05:002009-05-30T15:10:23.696-05:00Scene Change<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I realllllly need a change in scenery here. And since I can't hop in the truck and drive off to... I don't know... wherever, I'm eyeballing my wall of sticky notes. The stickies have somehow reproduced like rabbits and I can't even read what half of them say. I feel like they're mocking me every day I sit here and don't write. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I'm officially declaring today as The Day of Sticky Note Death.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">(30 minutes later) Who knew it'd be this hard to go from writing that to actually REMOVING them?? Lordy. I'm having a hard time getting started. *sigh* Here goes nothing... </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><u><strong>BEFORE</strong></u>:</span><br /><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfGoVSTDc1_Z5xz2x2_RSy66_vYpmN8M8pNHAO1kpLLptjso52bMso3EzkRfBTn75p7FKqUqRJGzol2e3OVLH9kG09qLaGNtJsKgU1_fVYzDiElSUp-L1ISV0zxmtMqMU9tyoY/s1600-h/stickynote1.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341709125112654850" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfGoVSTDc1_Z5xz2x2_RSy66_vYpmN8M8pNHAO1kpLLptjso52bMso3EzkRfBTn75p7FKqUqRJGzol2e3OVLH9kG09qLaGNtJsKgU1_fVYzDiElSUp-L1ISV0zxmtMqMU9tyoY/s320/stickynote1.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br /><br />Whew!! Once I finally got started (and Mr. Clean FINALLY stopped laughing and texting all our friends to say: "OMG, She's taking down the sticky notes! I think she's SICK or something!! Maybe she's lost her MIND!") it didn't take HALF as long as I thought it would and I tossed 3/4 of what I took down. The rest are in little bags, labeled: Plot, Advice, Music, Books, and Quotes. I might have taken them down but geeez... I couldn't toss them all! </span></p><p><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><u><strong>AFTER</strong></u>:</span></p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilWkhN42Rmaro0hDiEr2WMu2DMNyyQuK0Ra1V06CkUpZrwSgV6uyM2ieemOcfBC3JbWq-IO5h6PbpZog_REpTlIa4vRyMWkDwNdLGiM6heeF3Te4jLOO0bkdefcIwXrG3NlQ93/s1600-h/stickynote2.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341709123368326258" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilWkhN42Rmaro0hDiEr2WMu2DMNyyQuK0Ra1V06CkUpZrwSgV6uyM2ieemOcfBC3JbWq-IO5h6PbpZog_REpTlIa4vRyMWkDwNdLGiM6heeF3Te4jLOO0bkdefcIwXrG3NlQ93/s320/stickynote2.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">The GOOD news (besides a nice lift of my shoulders) is that I found something deep, deep in the recesses of sticky note shadowland, which I had been looking for! Yay.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">I can't believe the difference in look. It's blank. And empty. And.... </span></p><p><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">I SO have a brand new package of sticky notes sitting RIGHT HERE next to me. Tra-la-la-la! Yes, I am a sick, sick individual with a sticky note OCD complex. </span></p><p> </p>Dragonflyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09765108940676765396noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20539716.post-2289754572512718732009-05-24T11:59:00.004-05:002009-05-24T13:07:25.307-05:00Houses and Butts and Texts, Oh My!<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Occasionally I find myself <s>whining</s> saying, "I'm bored." Or, "there's nothing to do." I must have said it one time too often or something because this past week? Oh. My. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">As some of you long-time readers might remember, we'd planned on building a home a couple of years ago. Almost immediately the world began to work against us. We couldn't find a builder we liked. We couldn't find a plan we TRULY agreed upon (that didn't include me making umpteen changes). And then BAM! The economy tanked. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Fortunately for us, we'd made some financial decisions just prior which effectively saved our 401k's from being too damaged. Unfortunately for us, we live in Texas - one of the few states that was NOT in the least bit effected by the housing market tanking. Oh no! Our housing market here is just BOOMING! (must be all the people moving away from New York and California) </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">All in all, though? It ended up being a blessing in disguise.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">We found a plan we both liked, which required minimal changes on my part. And then we found a builder we liked. Finally, that extra time allowed us to get rid of some extraneous debt we had.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">So. FINALLY, last weekend, Mr. Clean and I met with a home builder. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Since then, I have been immersed in lists, web sites, and spreadsheets (that latter being the bane of my existence since I LIVE in them for work already... but I had to do it. It was the only way to keep myself sane with the lists and the costs and... *sigh*)</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I have, over the past week, managed to pick paint colors, flooring, granite, light fixtures, door knobs & other hardware, and appliances. And now? I am TIRED. Do you KNOW how many doors are in a house? TWENTY-FOUR in this one... and that's not counting the one set of french doors and a door from the Master bedroom to the back porch that I nixed. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Okay, housing rant over. And since all of this is probably pretty boring to y'all, I have a few conversations from the past week - having nothing to do with house building:</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><u><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">This week's Dinner & A Movie (with C-Boy)</span></u><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Mr. Clean:</strong> So, Doodlebug... how's your heinie?</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Doodlebug:</strong> *crickets chirping*</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Me (whispering to Doodlebug):</strong> Tell him your heinie is none of his business at the dinner table.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Doodlebug:</strong> Mom said not to talk about butts at dinner.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Mr. Clean:</strong> What? I was just wondering about that bug bite that was bothering him so much!</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>C-Boy:</strong> *laughing*</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Me:</strong> Well gee, if you really want to go there. His butt is fine. And in case you're wondering, mine is just okay. A little too complacent and just a little bit procrastinatory. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>C-Boy:</strong> Procrastinatory? Is that even a word?</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Me:</strong> It is now. And how's <em>your</em> butt tonight? Is it feeling okay? Tired from working?</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>C-Boy:</strong> Mine needs a massage. Maybe a little slap and tickle. Other than that, it's hanging in </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">there. Thanks for asking.<br /></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Mr. Clean:</strong> What about mine?</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Me:</strong> Yours needs a weekend detention for constantly talking out of turn.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Doodlebug:</strong> Yeah, Dad... yours needs a time out for making all that noise! And then blaming me for it!</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>C-Boy:</strong> *laughing and then choking on food*</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Me:</strong> *shrug* This is what happens when you bring up butts at the dinner table.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">The next conversation is between Mr. Clean and Shaggy, via text. Shaggy is not always the most articulate so when I saw his word drama... it 1) made me righteously proud he was getting his point across succinctly and 2) tickled the heck out of my funny bone. It's official. The drama is genetic. He'd just recently re-taken the SAT in order to bring up his Critial Thinking and Writing scores.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><u><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">S.A.T.'s</span></u><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Shaggy (9:03am):</strong> What are my SAT scores?</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Shaggy (9:10am):</strong> fwd: What are my SAT scores?</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Shaggy (9:19am):</strong> fwd:fwd: What are my SAT scores?</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Mr. Clean:</strong> I am looking!</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Mr. Clean:</strong> You did better on critical reading with 490 and writing was up with 430. Overall it was higher and with your math at 640, you look really good.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">At this point, Mr. Clean reports the texts just started pouring in so fast, he couldn't reply. Everyone at the office was laughing because his phone was non-stop vibrating all over the desk.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Shaggy:</strong> It's crap! I hate my life. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Shaggy:</strong> It's the worst test I've ever taken. I hate that. I want to burn those scores. I quit.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Shaggy:</strong> And don't say that's average cause I don't want to BE AVERAGE!</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Shaggy:</strong> cause average is STUPID.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Mr. Clean (managing to get a text in):</strong> It is not as bad as you think.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Shaggy:</strong> You're right, is not bad... it makes bad look parade-worthy!! It's HORRENDOUS. It is level with mental retardation.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Shaggy:</strong> I don't even qualify for an NROTC scholarship!!!!!! That's pathetic.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Shaggy:</strong> I can say goodbye to Embry Riddle.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Mr. Clean: Just so you know... Embry Riddle is 450-580 for critical thinking and math is 490-620 and ACT is 21-27. You have 490, 640, and 28. I don't think you're going to have a problem. Call me when the pity party is over and we'll talk about it.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Mr. Clean:</strong> And you do qualify for the NROTC scholarship.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Shaggy:</strong> Pity party? I'm going to have a drowning party.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Shaggy:</strong> I'm drowning in my own moronic patheticness.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Shaggy:</strong> How did I get this stupid?</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Shaggy:</strong> Seriously! HOW? It's not like I have a girlfriend to blame it on!</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Shaggy:</strong> I'm just NATURALLY stupid, apparently. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Shaggy:</strong> I told you that 2nd test sucked butt.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Shaggy:</strong> I told you!</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Shaggy:</strong> Okay, I'll call you now.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">That, my dears, is a very hormonal 17 year old boy who really wants to get into Embry-Riddle. Welcome to my life on a daily basis. I expect next year is going to get even worse. Can't wait until we start sending out college applications. It'll be right about the time we start building this house. FUN!!!! Yeeeesh. Pray for me.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span>Dragonflyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09765108940676765396noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20539716.post-16802002284632451352009-05-18T20:18:00.005-05:002009-05-18T20:51:46.553-05:00Oh, Mondays<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I don't know about you but Monday night dinners here are the Absolute Worst. I never know if I'm going to be done with work around 5pm (like I should be) or if it will drag on until 6 or 7. Trust me, it <em>never</em> works out that I'm done at five o'clock. Particularly not when I didn't manage to go to bed until 4AM (Again!! Something in me is So. Broken.).</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">As I'm trying to get myself back into a blogging schedule of some sort, I thought it'd be fun to post what I do for Monday Night Dinners. They're normally quick & simple and... best of all... CHEAP.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Now, don't get all ahead of me and expect a post every Monday night after dinner. In a perfect world, it'd TOTALLY happen. In my world, if there are leftovers from Sunday night... we are SO having them instead of me having to cook.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Tonight, I had a little more time than usual but a lot less enthusiasm for cooking so I took some sirloin burger patties out, along with my favorite rice (Jasmine), broccoli, and carrots. Here's what I ended up with:</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><br /><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">Sirloin Patties w/ Mushroom Gravy</span></strong></div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><br /><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmbu8vC4PUWbnVysOzDG-1rzcvfvYbrd2YYc9FJypEz3YXiBOk0l995XPF9ADicpht8iaVHV_BmO9Lbu_QFK6WNbjGcfapoOOfj6IyQau43cfNtLbtwvPhZZrVewzS0q6lP0P9/s1600-h/Sirloin+Patty+with+Mushroom+Gravy.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337340231447168306" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmbu8vC4PUWbnVysOzDG-1rzcvfvYbrd2YYc9FJypEz3YXiBOk0l995XPF9ADicpht8iaVHV_BmO9Lbu_QFK6WNbjGcfapoOOfj6IyQau43cfNtLbtwvPhZZrVewzS0q6lP0P9/s320/Sirloin+Patty+with+Mushroom+Gravy.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><u>Ingredients</u></span></strong><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">4 Sirloin burger patties</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">1 lb sliced mushrooms (white or cremini, your choice)</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">1 can Campbell's French Onion soup</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">1 can Campbell's Beefy Mushroom soup</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">1 cup beef stock</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">1 individually sized bottle red wine* (Cabernet or Merlot)<br />1 heaping tsp. minced garlic (2 cloves)</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">1 T. butter</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Olive Oil</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Salt (I like Kosher)</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Pepper (freshly ground)</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">1. Season patties on both sides with salt and plenty of freshly ground pepper (really, go nuts with the pepper). Press into meat.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">2. Heat a little olive oil (2-3 Tb.??? I don't measure, I just do two or three swirls) in a skillet on medium-high.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">3. Sear sirloin patties on each side until nicely browned; about 2 minutes per side. Remove to a plate.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">4. Add butter to hot pan. Once melted, add mushrooms and saute until golden. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">5. Add garlic and saute 1 minute more. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">6. Deglaze pan with about 1/2 to 3/4 of the bottle of wine, scraping up all the yummy bits.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">7. Add soups and stock; bring to a boil. Continue cooking until sauce is reduced by half.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">8. Add sirloin patties back to pan, making sure they're nicely settled down in their saucy hot tub. Give the whole thing a whirl with the pepper grinder to season.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">9. Cover and simmer 10-15 minutes on low.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">10. Serve over buttered rice or with mashed potatoes!</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">* The best money I've ever spent is buying those little 4-packs of individually-sized wine bottles. They are perfect-perfect-perfect! for cooking. I <em>always</em> keep a 4-pack of Chardonnay and one of either Merlot or Cabernet on hand and they have never let me down.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">** A variation on this recipe: Instead of deglazing with wine, use 1/2 cup of brandy. Then, at the end, add a little bit of cream for a nice Brandy Cream sauce.</span><br /><br /><br /><p><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">The whole thing took me a little more than 30 minutes to cook. Not bad for Monday night. Now, I don't know about you but I'm ready for some ice cream!!</span></p><p><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></p><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span>Dragonflyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09765108940676765396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20539716.post-91853431774250742612009-05-17T01:31:00.002-05:002009-05-17T01:36:37.092-05:00Back... Sorta.. Kinda.. Almost<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Sooo. I played around and got a new blog look! Yay! And all of the TV shows are now starting to wind down so I can go from this...<br /><br /><br /><img src="http://meter.writertopia.com/words=0&mood=4" /><br /><br /><br />To this:<br /><br /><img src="http://meter.writertopia.com/words=5000&mood=6" /><br /><br />(working towards any number higher than Z-E-R-O, that is) </span><br /><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Not much more to say right now. It's late (though early for my recent 4am bedtimes) and we have a builder coming out tomorrow at 2pm, to discuss house plans. Coming out to my house. Coming out to my house that is completely PITTED at the moment. ~sigh~</span></p><p><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">More posting soon! Or at least I'm hoping the new design kick starts my attention! </span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </p><br /><br /></span>Dragonflyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09765108940676765396noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20539716.post-19396530198681339042009-04-10T01:05:00.003-05:002009-04-10T01:11:25.400-05:00On The Fritz<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I died. Seriously. Okay, well the <em>computer</em> took the big plunge into the great darkness but I may as well have for all the trouble it's caused. Apparently, while visiting one of my favorite blogs... I picked up a generous case of The Nasty. And then couldn't find my restore disk for the computer -- which this particular Nasty requires. So. Mr. Clean had a bit of a "moment" and now I have a new computer. I'm still trying to get everything set up on it so no expectations of blogging soon.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">*sigh* I swear it's like the world is conspiring against me when it comes to this blog. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I am writing though! Nothing huge because I'm getting ready for an enormous Easter Sunday BBQ bash here at the house, but it's something. And I think it's a Really Cool Something. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Y'all take care now!! Have a Happy Virus-Free Easter!</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span>Dragonflyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09765108940676765396noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20539716.post-62136932859210669442009-03-22T14:58:00.003-05:002009-03-22T15:45:44.898-05:00A MeMe... by Them<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I came across a little MeMe the other day, which just tickled me. Of course I had to do it. This little gem is 22 questions, to be answered by YOUR KIDS. It's sort of amazing and not just a little disturbing to find out what your kids think of you. Enjoy!</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>1. What does your Mom always say to you?</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Doodlebug</strong>: You say, "clean your room." And, "time for bed." Oh, and you're always saying, "Do you have homework?" (the last said sotto-voice sarcastic)</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Shaggy</strong>: You tell me you love me a lot. <--- he's a keeper</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>2. What makes Mom happy?</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Doodlebug</strong>: A happy kid and not being alone; like when I get home from school.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Shaggy</strong>: When everyone in the family is happy. Cranky kids don't make for a happy Mom. Isn't that what you say?</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>3. What makes Mom sad?</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Doodlebug</strong>: A kid being punished... like me. And being stressed.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Shaggy</strong>: When everyone argues with each other. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">(I think they have "sad" confused with "annoyed")</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>4. What does your Mom do that makes you laugh?</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Doodlebug</strong>: I don't know; I can't remember <--- apparently I don't make him laugh enough!</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Shaggy</strong>: You tickle me, like a Loser! (Yes, folks... my favorite thing in the world is to tickle my 17 y.o. until he pees)</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>5. What was your Mom like as a child?</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Doodlebug</strong>: You were Beautiful. And a good kid. <--- major points!</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Shaggy</strong>: A really, really BAD child. Rebellious. You drove your parents nuts, I'm sure.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Hmmm.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>6. How old is your Mom?</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Doodlebug</strong>: You're 37! <--- he's WRONG</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Shaggy</strong>: You're 34, right? Or is it 33? <--- also wrong but in a much better direction</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">(I'm actually 36 but I joke so often about being a different age, my poor kids have No Clue any longer)</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>7. How tall is your Mom?</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Doodlebug</strong>: You're 4'11"</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Shaggy</strong>: 5'5"</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">(Okay... I'm a bit concerned about their ability to judge heights. I'm 5'2")</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>8. What's her favorite thing to do?</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Doodlebug</strong>: Work, cook, and take naps</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Shaggy</strong>: Write!</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">(Take NAPS? Okay, yes, I do love me a good nap every now and then... like when I've stayed up until 3am the previous night. But seriously? My favorite thing to do?)</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>9. What does your Mom do when you're not around?</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Doodlebug</strong>: Work, take naps, and watch TV <--- AGAIN with the naps???</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Shaggy</strong>: Write and have sex <--- I DIED laughing when he said this one. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">(On the other hand, I can now safely assume I am NOT loud enough for the entire house to hear.)</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>10. If your Mom becomes famous, what will it be for?</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Doodlebug</strong>: Writing books</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Shaggy</strong>: Writing a book better than Harry Potter <--- no pressure there, at all</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>11. What is your Mom really good at?</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Doodlebug</strong>: Your cooking is the BEST! You should have your own show on that food channel.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Shaggy</strong>: Mothering. Oh, and writing. Though I think my imagination is better than yours.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">(Okay, can I just PREEN for a moment? My 17 y.o. son just told me I'm really good at MOTHERING. Woo hooo!!!)</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>12. What is your Mom NOT very good at?</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Doodlebug</strong>: Being quiet when you sleep <--- so says the child who snores like a freight train</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Shaggy</strong>: Waking up in a good mood. I think you genetically passed that on to me, too. It's your fault.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>13. What does your Mom do for her job?</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Doodlebug</strong>: You make surveys.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Shaggy</strong>: You do surveys and you make sure everyone is happy. You have a really HARD job.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>14. What's your Mom's favorite food?</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Doodlebug</strong>: Pumpkin bread from Starbucks!</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Shaggy</strong>: Chicken Marsala from Palotta's.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>15. What makes you proud of your Mom?</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Doodlebug</strong>: That you're beautiful. <--- he's SUCH a sweet, sweet suck-up child</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Shaggy</strong>: That you're a good mother and you love me. And I'll <em>really</em> be proud when you FINISH a book!</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>16. If your Mom were a cartoon character, who would she be?</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Doodlebug: </strong>George Jetson's wife, because she works a lot, like you. <--- I'm confused... George Jetson's wife WORKED? Is he watching a different cartoon than the one with which I'm familiar?</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Shaggy</strong>: Marvin Martian, because he's funny and he's always threatening to do things to people.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">(Now you know my secret to success... threats, that make people laugh.)</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>17. What do you and your Mom like to do together?</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Doodlebug</strong>: Play games.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Shaggy</strong>: Talk about books, writing, life, and What-Ifs. Though I still say my imagination is better than yours. Like this book you're writing on... if it were mine I'd... <--- edited because he then went on a 30 minute diatribe about what he'd do differently. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>18. How are your and your Mom the same?</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Doodlebug</strong>: We have the same eyes! Of course, mine are prettier than yours. You say so.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Shaggy</strong>: Imagination, intelligence; we never wake up in a good mood. Oh, and we always go to sleep late.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">(When asked about his sudden change of heart, that our imagination is the same... he said, "I'm being nice." Regarding his intelligence being the same as mine --- "Well, I'm more up to date so it equals out.")</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>19. How are you and your Mom different?</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Doodlebug</strong>: The size. I'm shorter than you. Well, just a little shorter. Next year I'll be taller than you.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Shaggy</strong>: I can do Math and I'm better at History and Politics. I'm more logical than you are. You see things the BENT way... you know, the out-of-the-box way? </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">(I'm BENT? I think that was a compliment!)</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>20. How do you know your Mom loves you?</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Doodlebug</strong>: You tell me! </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Shaggy</strong>: Because you're asking me these questions right now. Because you tell me. Oh, and because I'm still here and alive!</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">(Okay, yes... I MAY have at some point(s) told my child I now understand why animals eat their young.)</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>21. Where is your Mom's favorite place to go?</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Doodlebug</strong>: Bath & Body Works. I think you live there some times. .... but you smell real nice!</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Shaggy</strong>: Scotland, Barnes & Noble, and Starbucks.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>22. What is your Mom's least favorite place to go?</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Doodlebug</strong>: I don't know... on a speed boat? <--- this said because the last time I was on a boat, I got SOAKED by a giant wave. While it was 50 degrees out. And windy. I was not happy.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Shaggy</strong>: Heh.. I know this one. Umm, the mall! Places with crowds! I-45 or really any freeway. Ohhhh! And really high overpasses! You <em>really</em> FREAK out on those. I don't know how you function. <--- sweet boy</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">So, that's it. A little more about me via my spawnlings. Yippee. I have to say, this was one of my favorite MeMe's yet. I really liked having a reason to sit down and ask them a bunch of questions. About me. If you have a blog and you have kids... consider yourself Tagged!</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span>Dragonflyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09765108940676765396noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20539716.post-31029298497937579932009-03-12T11:45:00.004-05:002009-03-12T12:36:58.093-05:00I Have Been... Not Here<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I know, right? ... I know... </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">And while it's a lousy excuse for my non-blogging habits, I have to blame them on physicists. If they could figure out the whole M theory, maybe they could figure out time... and then maybe, just <em>maybe</em> they could give me a few extra hours every day.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Of course, I'd probably use them for sleeping...</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">So where have I been the past month, you might ask? Or perhaps you've given up on me and therefore don't bother asking. Either way I'm going to tell ya. *grin*</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I have been (in no particular order):</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>* To Austin</strong> - for a Laser (sailboat) race. Watching Laser racing from a boat in the water near the racers... FUN! Until you look back at the video your husband shot. It goes something like this: </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Me</strong>: Ooooh, look, that's a great shot, you've got him really moving through the water.... wait... why are you shooting the boat seats?</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Him</strong>: *exasperated sigh*</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Me</strong>: Okay, here we go again. Oh! I remember this! This is when he was going around the buoy marker. That was a great turn. Here he goes.... WTF? Why are you shooting clouds?</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Him</strong>: *groaning* It was the boat's fault.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Me</strong>: And we're back to the sailor. Yay! Oh, wait... nope! Seats again. And now sky again. And seats. Oooooh SAILOR!!! Nope, just kidding... WATER!</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Him</strong>: Turn it off already.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">It's sadly apparent that not only do we need to buy an ACTUAL video camera, but also? I need to do the shooting. (and then pray I do a better job because otherwise I'll be dining on crow for like the next YEAR)</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">And watching Laser racing from the rocky banks of a very low Lake Travis? Like watching GOLF on TV. So. Boring. The need to buy a boat of our own in order to guarantee we're out on the water is becoming more and more solid.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>* Writing!</strong> - No. Not really. I have this *block* but it's not a writer's block. It's a dragonfly-has-gone-slightly-mental block. It's a do-I-really-want-to-scale-this-wall block. See, I have been getting regular visits from characters and they are SO COOL. I lurve them very, very much. But. BUT! Every time I sit back, pen ready, and ask, "So what's the story?" It's APOCALYPTIC. As in End. Of. The. World. As we know it. This is not anything new, unfortunately. I have been dreaming up apocalyptic plot ideas for years. --- I know, right? Ms. Optimism here has a MAJOR Doom & Gloom core, it seems. --- But seriously? End of the world? It's so.. sooo... depressing. And scary! And why is my brain wanting so badly to write about this stuff?! I'm trying to find a way to STOP fighting it, to let it flood in and run with the tide. And then also keep myself from going out and buying up a METRIC HORDE of survival supplies in response. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>* Cancelling credit cards</strong> --- Oh yes, indeedy. We're finally going almost completely debt-free! But, umm, have you ever actually tried to CANCEL a credit card? I can only do like one a week. Those people!!! I got into an ARGUMENT this morning while trying to cancel one of my cards (it rhymes with Shitty). Really. They, of course, want to know WHY you are cancelling your cards. Ummm, because I SAID SO? Because you're a bail-out babe and I'm sorry... I just don't want a card from a company whose stocks are now mostly goverment owned? Or how about because I am Debt-Free and don't need any help getting back into debt? The guy ARGUED with me and I finally got angry and said, "Well, if you'd stopped arguing like, I don't know, TWENTY MINUTES ago... I might have changed my mind but Now? I want to cancel my card because I don't like YOU." He finally did what I asked. Twenty! Minutes! I'm so exhausted now.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>* Dying of Consumption</strong> -- Truly. Mr. Clean came home with something Very Sinister but when I asked if he was sick, he said, "Nope... just a really bad headache." And then he got all romanticky with me. The next day, he was ILL. I sighed and bolted down as many vitamins as I could stand (glow-in-the-dark pee! Yay!). It didn't work. I got the nasty on a Thursday night. Tickle in my throat. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Friday = slight cough and general malaise. "I can beat this!" <--- I repeated as I tra-la-la'd throughout the day. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Saturday = I can't breathe. I can't move. I am dying. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Sunday = Rinse & Repeat. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Monday = My nose is either either getting much much smaller or much bigger. I can't tell.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Tuesday = Explosive! Sneezing! I Can't! Breathe! (seriously, like for four-five hours straight... with me TRYING to bawl in between sneezes because they just wouldn't stop!) </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Wednesday = All I can smell is BLEACH. I have ruined my nose. And I can't move because the bed trolls came in the middle of the THREE hours I managed to sleep and kicked me repeatedly in my ribs. From the inside too.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Thursday = The cough is back but I can't cough. I can't talk either. It all hurts. Mr. Clean laughs at my attempts to cough "effectively". They don't work. I sound like a cat trying to start up a hair-ball and then giving up mid-attempt. Also? I'm no longer smelling bleach but I'm convinced I STINK. All I can smell is dirty-laundry-sweaty-stink. And I think it's me. I shower 3 times.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Friday = Coughing! Yay! Except now I'm also packing for Austin. And still showering a LOT because... yes, I still stink. I don't care that Mr. Clean insists all he smells is yummy vanilla. I smell like a SEWER.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Today (What is it... Thursday now? Two Weeks!?) = STILL COUGHING. But I can smell again! (and honestly? I'll take the smell-all-right over not coughing any day)</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">So that's where I've been. My main goal this week: Buy things. Pretty pretty nail polish. Flip-flops. Shampoo & Conditioner (because I am almost out and will now have to use express shipping to get it here in time). A new pair of capris (or two) that don't fall off while I walk. Possibly a couple of shirts. Don't say I'm not trying to help the economy!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Also? Start writing about the end of the world. *sigh* I just don't understand why I can't embrace these plot ideas. Obviously, this is where my brain wants to take me. Maybe it'll be a thrill-ride? Like a roller-coaster? Like a fun! fun! roller-coaster that you want to get on over and over and over again? <---- lying to myself. It's going to give me nightmares and make me start planning a bomb shelter. Dammit. Apparently, this is where I have to go though.... so I'll try to "blast off" <---- hahahaha, SO. Not. Funny.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span>Dragonflyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09765108940676765396noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20539716.post-48623401904428766522009-02-16T13:59:00.004-06:002009-02-17T11:58:28.341-06:00Hearts and Flowers and Lightning<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">It was supposed to be a day of hearts and flowers and while I DID get flowers, it was mostly... a day of RAIN. But I'm getting ahead of myself... </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">FRIDAY, I took off half a day of work in order to make Doodlebug's requested Black Forest Cake. Four giant layers of cake interspersed with drunk cherries (only tipsy, since it <em>was</em> for an 11-year-old) and whipped cream. The secret ingredient, though, is double-strength black cherry jello -- you add just the boiling water and mix, then drizzle it onto each of the cake layers before adding either cherries or whipped cream. YUM!</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Friday afternoon, we revealed Doodlebug's birthday gift. A quick digression... </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Every year, we ask Doodlebug about his gift choices and this is the resulting conversation:</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Me</strong>: What do you want for your birthday, kiddo?</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>DB</strong>: Mommmmmm! You KNOW what I want. It's what I ALWAYS want. I ask for it EVERY year!</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Me</strong>: .... and what's that again?</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>DB</strong>: A DIRT BIKE, Mom. Geez.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Me</strong>: *crickets chirping* (as I see visions of hundred dollar bills bursting into flames, their miniscule ash floating off into space)</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">So when we told Doodlebug to please go feed the horse while we figured out how to reveal his gift, imagine his surprise at opening the feed shed doors and finding... A DIRT BIKE.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Lordy Mercy. We finally managed to silence the child. We rendered him completely speechless. It was the LOVELIEST two minutes EVER! It was cool. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">So after spending an hour watching him zoom past one direction and then back the other direction, we pulled him off the dirt bike and headed out to eat dinner with some family and play arcade games all night. We didn't get home until almost 11pm.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">And then the adults (BabySis was staying over) partied it up a bit, because, see... C-Boy couldn't make the arcade games and what-not but the poker was ON. And also? I could only find a giant box of jello for the cake so I had a HUGE amount of double-strength leftover. As I was putting it in the fridge that afternoon, I noticed I still had half a bottle of tequila, nicely chilled. And then I thought: JELLO SHOTS! Except I didn't have any little medicine cups. So... I simply upended that bottle into the bowl and figured we'd think of something later.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">It was poker night with a pass-along bowl and a spoon. And a little more tequila found it's way into that jello than I'd thought (though you couldn't TASTE a thing). Ohhh boy.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Fast forward to Valentine's Day.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">We had to get up at EIGHT AM, in order to grab a quick load of hay and then head out on a long drive down to Clear Lake -- Shaggy was having a Laser race (single-person boats) and I hadn't made it to one yet because of work. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">We got there a little late.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Once arrived, we walked down to the very, very, very end of what USED to be a road (now a mess of mud, sand, construction, and destruction not yet cleaned up --- Hurricane Ike killed this yacht club) and looked Wayyyyyyy out over the water.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Me</strong>: Are those sails out there?</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Mr. Clean</strong>: Yep, I believe so.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Me</strong>: And this is supposed to be entertaining? I can't even see which is his boat!</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Mr. Clean</strong>: Well, your Dad usually has binoculars.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Me</strong>: Except he's out on a boat, out there, with the binoculars.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Mr. Clean</strong>: Yep.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Me</strong>: Wooooo we're having FUN now!</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Mr. Clean</strong>: You need more coffee.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">After half an hour or so of standing out there, straining my eyes --- because maybe if I squinted hard enough, it would all suddenly come into focus --- my Dad called to say they (those on the power boat) were coming back into the marina to pick us up. Yay.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">We climbed onto the boat and headed out deep, deep into the bay. Once we arrived out into the middle of the goings-on, we realized that a LOT of people (parents, coaches, and race committee) were all out on little power boats and dinghys, like you'd see in a Navy Seals movie. It looked like mass chaos on water. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Me</strong>: It's starting to become clear to me... </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Mr. Clean</strong>: What is?</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Me</strong>: The real expense of sailing is not Shaggy's boat and sails and riggings... or all the traveling around... it's the fact that we're going to have to get binoculars and another BOAT in order to see him race.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Mr. Clean</strong>: *crickets chirping*</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Me</strong>: You didn't think about that part, did you?</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Mr. Clean</strong>: The last race was right up next to the other yacht club; we just had to stand out on the pier and watch.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Me</strong>: With binoculars.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Mr. Clean</strong>: *crickets chirping*</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">As we were sitting out there waiting for the 2nd race to end, the wind DIED. Completely. Then, the sky grew a tiny bit darker and some big, fat raindrops hit me on my head. I looked out over the water behind us and HOLY COW, there was lightning. The race committee sounded their air horns and hoisted flags to call the race and send the racers into shore. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I wish I'd had the forsight to video the ensuing line of boats headed in - because, umm, how exactly DO you sail into shore when there is NO WIND? Apparently, you stand up on the boat, one foot on either side of the tiny, tiny cockpit and rock back and forth, left-to-right, left-to-right... which, essentially, paddles you in. Quite a bit more quickly than you'd imagine! It was like a little parade of dancing sailors, complete with lightning rods for masts. Lovely experience.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">It was pouring before everyone managed to motor back to shore, a few of the boats hauling some of the slower sailors who weren't able to get their rockin' paddle going. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Did I mention I hadn't worn a rain coat?? </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Once ashore, we ran over to the beach area and helped Shaggy get his Laser onto a dingy cart, and then pulled it over to the giant expanse of grass in front of the clubhouse (which now looked like a mass congregation of wet rats (teenagers) and their boats). Shaggy removed all of his rigging and then pulled the mast out and laid it across the boat, while the adults were trying to figure out --- was this it for the day?</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">The race committee came out of the clubhouse and stated the weather radar showed we were only in the tip of a storm and it was passing momentarily. So the racing was back on. Everyone had to re-rig and get right back out there.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">*sigh*</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">The sailors had the same sentiment. They looked to the sky, looked at each other, and then grumbled about inexperienced race committees (this one was fairly new). Their masts re-settled, they rolled their boats one-by-one back to the beach and got back into the water. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">It was that moment I realized... there is such a thing as a SAIL MOM. And I was not one of them. I did not know!!! Shaggy NEVER mentioned I was expected to be hauling around a bag of vitamin water and power bars! One of the other parents said, "Oh yeah... it's a mess out there. Usually, we start passing out water and power bars in between races. They just sail up next to the boat and we toss things their way. Otherwise, they're just wiped out."</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Well, yes, I DID know it was extremely hard work. I did NOT know there was a system and a charter of rules that SAIL MOMS or SAIL DADS followed. Sweet Bleeding Jalepeno.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">We loaded back up onto the boat we were tagging along with (two other sets of parents)... now BAREfoot because our shoes had become clogged with mud from earlier. As we headed BACK out into the water... it started to rain again.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Sitting out in the race area - AGAIN - while waiting for the race to start, it was like being circled by sharks. Every now and then, a kid would sail up, grab hold of the side rail, and then get a quick bottle of water and power bar. After a few minutes of chit-chat, they'd head back out to circle the start again. FYI... it's STILL raining.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Here's Shaggy (on the left, in red, with the 4.7 sail):</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyAafEngZvF241ykJBjsR-paoAvwSa5zOOnKzYmssXvPGbaZxkEnnTQ-eCshFZXokKkAwOWXqc50c0' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /></span><br /><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">It's just a short little clip. Because about a minute after this, that damn race committee hoisted the "abandon race" flags AGAIN. And the lightning started. AGAIN. And my heart raced as I watched all the giant lightning rods across the water. AGAIN.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Oh, and the temperature dropped about FIFTY degrees in five minutes. My feet turned blue.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I did have the forsight to grab video of the resulting line of dancing sailors heading back to shore this time but it started raining so hard, I couldn't keep the camera out. Sorry. What you really missed, though, was the sound we heard when the race was called the second time. At first, it could have been mistaken for thunder. In reality, it was the sound of 30 teenagers doing a well-timed teenagery groan of frustrated angst. Hilarious!!</span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">My Valentine's evening? Spent... </span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">** drying out and warming up in front of a fire for a little while in the clubhouse, while waiting for Shaggy to finish de-rigging his boat and getting everything put up.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">** bemoaning the fact that my hair now looked like a giant bozo the clown do from the humidity and rain.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">** thanking GOD I'd brought along a headband and scrunchy to hide the clown hair with.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">** making sure Shaggy was showered, changed, and settled in (they were having a dinner/dance that evening).</span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">** going out with my Dad & Stepmom to find a place to eat that wasn't packed to the gills with romancing couples.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">** after FIRST buying a whole new outfit for Doodlebug - who'd assisted the kids in getting their boats in and out of the water, TWICE, and therefore was soaked to the bone.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">And actually? It was a LOVELY evening. We got coffee on the way home, arrived at just past 9pm, and then curled up on the couch and watched Horton Hears A Who. And then passed out from exhaustion.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">We go to Austin the first weekend of March. Hopefully, I can capture a little MORE video of some actual racing.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">How was YOUR Valentine's Day?</span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></p>Dragonflyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09765108940676765396noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20539716.post-33382670119554087572009-02-10T11:11:00.002-06:002009-02-10T11:46:30.546-06:00A Little Mid-Week Attempt<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">This poor blog just doesn't get updated like it used to. Don't feel bad, little blog, there are a LOT of things not getting the attention they deserve just now. Things like: </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>**</strong> My nails, which are currently pretty-pretty painted in the CENTER but bare around the edges. Real edgy look, this. Not at all attractive.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>**</strong> My house, which looks like a tornado blew through it... a FEW times.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>**</strong> My closet. Oh dear lord, my closet is a disaster area.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>**</strong> My roses, which desperately need cutting back for Spring, because they are growing willy-nilly all over the place, even though it is supposed to be WINTER and they are NOT supposed to be sprouting new leaves!</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>**</strong> My email inbox, which is full of notices from Facebook and MySpace... that I am consciously-subconsciously IGNORING for the moment. And then feeling badly for it.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>**</strong> My friends! I feel like I'm wallowing in Cave Days, except I'm not. I'm just trying to keep my head above water here. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Work is taking over my life. GAH!</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">But not this Friday, oh no sirree. This Friday, I had to take half a day off because when I asked Doodlebug what kind of cake he wanted for his birthday, he said, "Black Forest, Mom. I really really really want a Black Forest cake." </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">And then my head exploded. Because the Black Forest cake? It takes HOURS to create. But that's the deal - the kiddos always get a home-baked cake tailored exactly to their specifications. So a Black Forest cake it is. And a half day off work, too. (which, really? I'm not going to complain about because I could kinda sorta definitely use the break)</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">After we have cake for dinner on Friday night, we're going to head out for some laser tag and arcade games, and maybe some bowling. And then Saturday morning, we're all getting up at the butt-crack of dawn so we can drive through downtown Houston in order to get to Clear Lake, where Shaggy has a sailing race. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">That's right -- I'm going to spend Valentine's Day standing on the end of a pier with binoculars, going, "Is that one him? How about that one? Well, where the heck IS HE?" </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">It's all about the love, folks.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">American Idol tonight, y'all. I might just post something about it --- if I can remember to note some thoughts down while I watch. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">I DID see some of the Grammys, though! </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>**</strong> Whitney's gorgeous dress and her seemingly less-than-sober speech</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>**</strong> Robert Plant - It just amazes me that the man is still alive! Not that he's OLD or anything, but that he SURVIVED the sex & drugs era relatively intact. It would have been NICE had he allowed Allison Krause to, I don't know, TALK at the mic, though..</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>**</strong> The Jonas Brothers - who proved that they can make even an almost 11-year-old BOY Squee... right up until one of them forgot part of a line. IN FRONT of the songwriter! </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Doodlebug</strong>: Did he just forget part of the song?</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Me</strong>: Yes, I think he maybe did.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Doodlebug</strong>: When is Kenny Chesney coming on? I like Kenny Chesney. He knows all the words.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">And that's about all I remember now, because at some point I turned the channel. To watch something else... a movie? Or maybe I fell asleep. Not sure now; it's all a blur. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span>Dragonflyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09765108940676765396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20539716.post-46171792909057585392009-02-04T12:53:00.003-06:002009-02-04T14:21:06.867-06:0025 Things<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">There's a 25 Things MeMe (meme? Meme?) going around on Facebook and since I sort-of loathe all things Facebook (and MySpace, these days) I'm going to do it here. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Digression -- Yes! I Do realize that obvously I don't loathe them enough to not be on them. I didn't loathe them when I signed up. Well I did loathe The Facebook but I was coerced into that one (Cuz Denise!). Anyhow. I'm just too lazy to take it all down now. And... And fine, what if someone out there is looking for me and thinks, "Oh! I'll try Facebook" -- only they look the day AFTER I take it all down and then can't ever find me? I don't want to be responsible for that.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">So, twenty-five things. This was HARD y'all! Because blogging is pretty much chock-full-o-self-interest-naval-gazing-and-belly-lint-picking... so finding twenty-five things you might not already know? Torturous.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>1)</strong> My current ring tone on my cell is the dirty, grungy beginning notes of Led Zeppelin's <em><a href="http://www.imeem.com/people/wwDXpfL/music/iNhXQOXX/038_led_zeppelin_whole_lotta_lovemp3/"><span style="color:#ff99ff;"><strong>Whole Lotta Love</strong></span></a></em>. It soothes the bad girl inside me. And I find the sound sexy. Which makes it yummy. Because, apparently, I live with sex on the brain. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>2)</strong> On Christmas Day, I dropped my weeks-old <a href="http://www.itechnews.net/wp-content/uploads/2008/03/sprint-lg-rumor-green.jpg"><span style="color:#ff99ff;"><strong>cell phone</strong></span></a> into an open glass of iced sweet tea while we were driving to my Mom's. Though I saved it (mostly, the screen still shows water spots and the texting keyboard crunches when I type) I blamed the whole thing on Mr. Clean having an open beverage in the car and told him that's why I NEVER drive with open drink containers. I LIED. I drive around with open beverages all the time. And I drop my phone in the car all the time. It just happened that THAT time, the stars aligned and universes converged and the phone dunked into the drink.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>3)</strong> I am hereby admitting I have a chap stick PROBLEM. I am addicted to <a href="http://www.bigelowchemists.com/popup_image.php/pID/4499?osCsid=ba7314a64897951a9e646985b34f1c42"><span style="color:#ff99ff;"><strong>C.O. Bigelow's SPF 15 Menth Lip Balm Stick</strong></span></a>. It's freakin' $7.50 a tube (!!) but I can't stop. It's ruined me for all other chap sticks. I keep one in my office, one in my purse, one in my living room, and I have two standing by in the bedroom for when one of the others runs out. That means I have $37.50 in chap stick at the moment. ---- that does NOT include the two tubes of <a href="http://www.bigelowchemists.com/popup_image.php/pID/2967"><span style="color:#ff99ff;"><strong>C.O. Bigelow Mentha Lip Shine</strong></span></a> I also have (one in office, one in living room) or the two other chap sticks I bought while grocery shopping because I couldn't find mine and couldn't get through a shopping afternoon without SOMETHING.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>4)</strong> Apparently, I have a weird obsession with my MOUTH because while I was looking through the house - counting all the damn chap stick - I came across a small jar of <a href="http://www.bachelorettesuperstore.com/page/100/PROD/7000/nibblers"><span style="color:#ff99ff;"><strong>Nipple Nibblers</strong></span></a> in Mandarin Orange. I'd forgotten about that; I use it every night before bed. I got it at a Passion Party my sister held at my house a few years back. I have never ONCE used it on my nipples. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">p.s. It's Super Yummy and TINGLY on your lips and Oh! My! does it make them soft.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>5)</strong> Yesterday, I blamed my MONTHS-long lack of writing on the fact that everyone in this house have used up my sticky notes and without stickies... I simply CANNOT tap into my creative well. I told Mr. Clean (in a work email) that I was being psychologically maimed by their absence. He informed me that I was taking Drama to a whole new level and then brought home two new packages. I came up with FOUR new plot ideas before he'd changed out of his work clothes. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>6)</strong> ... at which point, he proclaimed I was BATSHIT CRAZY. I asked him, how - after almost 18 years of marriage - was he JUST figuring that out?</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>7)</strong> I have another addiction I have to admit to... Lotion. There are... what do you call them? Large tubes? We'll go with that. There is one large tube in my office, one in my living room, one by the bed, and one waiting in the wings. Oh, and one in my purse. They are all vanilla scented (<a href="http://www.bathandbodyworks.com/product/index.jsp?productId=3204649&cp=&sr=1&kw=vanilla+bean+noel+body+cream&origkw=vanilla+bean+noel+body+cream&parentPage=search"><span style="color:#ff99ff;"><strong>Bath & Body Works Warm Vanilla Sugar</strong></span></a> and <a href="http://www.bathandbodyworks.com/product/index.jsp?productId=3204649&cp=&sr=1&kw=vanilla+bean+noel+body+cream&origkw=vanilla+bean+noel+body+cream&parentPage=search"><span style="color:#ff99ff;"><strong>Vanilla Bean Noel</strong></span></a>). Essentially, I float through life smelling like vanilla cookies with mint frosting. I am told this is NOT a bad thing.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>8)</strong> I watched a whopping THIRTY-TWO minutes of the Super Bowl. I spent fifteen of those minutes criticizing the manner in which one of the Arizona running backs was catching the ball -- i.e. he was running LEFT and catching LEFT and therefore always landed twisty and facing AWAY from the end zone, right into one of the opposing team, who consistently drove him into the ground. It was an INEFFICIENT use of space. If he'd caught the ball to the RIGHT on both of those passes, he'd have had a clean shot to the end zone in HALF the amount of time. I don't really CARE either way... I'm just sayin'. It doesn't make sense.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>9)</strong> I like to invent words and phrases - usually to replace my sailor's mouth (because I'm supposed to be this virtuous font of example for my children) but also just for fun. Some of my favorites are: Sweet Bleeding Jalepeno, Tragma (traj-ma) - as in tragic-drama, Fruitbat, and Shoffee (shopping with a coffee reward after).</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Last night, while watching American Idol, I started to make a snide comment about <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=obztmh1xT7Y"><span style="color:#ff99ff;"><strong>Bikini Girl</strong></span></a> but since Doodlebug was right there with me, I didn't finish it (because it was NOT nice). He did, though.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><br />Me: Ooooh that girl comes across as SUCH a ....<br />Him: A psychochondriac?<br /><br /><strong>10)</strong> I LOVE that someone else in this family makes up words besides me.<br /><br /><strong>11)</strong> Yes, it's because it makes me feel a little less alone in my crazy.<br /><br /><strong>12)</strong> Doodlebug will turn ELEVEN years old in less than two weeks. He still believes in Santa. I have No Clue how it's managed to stick this long, except that he IS a child of my loins, and therefore inherited my penchant for not believing a thing unless it's proven unequivocally otherwise. Of course one would think we'd therefore need to prove Santa's existence. Not so, schmo-mo! Once Doodlebug believes something, you have to prove that it DOESN'T exist. I think I'll let him keep on keepin' on with this one.<br /><br /><strong>13)</strong> I can't WAIT to see the new <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3A3kDzA_cOU"><span style="color:#ff99ff;"><strong>Friday the 13th</strong></span></a> movie. The original was always my favorite horror flick. Also? I first watched it when I was 13 years old.<br /><br /><strong>14)</strong> After watching it, I became CONVINCED (see #12) if I ever made out with a boy in a dark cabin, I would DIE. To this day, I probably would NOT make out in a dark cabin (and certainly NOT after I go watch the re-make).<br /><br /><strong>15)</strong> Every year I get older I find I am getting more girly and developing a serious affinity for the color <span style="color:#ff99ff;"><strong>Pink</strong></span>. It is WEIRD. It is SO weird, my sisters have NOTICED and they tease me about it. At this rate, I figure I'm going to be one of those little old ladies with pink hair who twitters and swoons any time a little old man looks my way.<br /><br /><strong>16)</strong> I picked the name 'dragonfly' for this blog because any time I go outside, dragonflies flock and follow me everywhere I go. It's obvious enough that people notice. It's weird but in a cool way.<br /><br /><strong>17)</strong> I have a tattoo of a thistle and a dragonfly on my ankle. I think I'd like to get another on the back of my shoulder but I can't decide what I want. Because I am indecisive. It took ten YEARS to figure out the one on my ankle. At this rate, I'll be in my forties before I get a second one.<br /><br /><strong>18)</strong> In this day and age of Sugar-Free EVERYTHING, I can't... for the LIFE of me... figure out why Starbucks has YET to create Sugar-Free Frappuccinos (either in the bottle or the frozen ones at the shop). They would make a killing!! And then maybe they wouldn't have to close a bunch of locations. Both Stevia Root (Truvia, at the stores now) and Agave Nectar taste SO close to sugar, you won't even notice its absence. It makes me wonder just who's running the show around there...<br /><br /><strong>19)</strong> I have not blogged so much lately because I am convinced my blog is now BORING, which irritates me, which makes me want to re-invent it, which seems like re-inventing the wheel, which flips my indecisiveness switch, which throws me straight into a fit of procrastination.<br /><br /><strong>20)</strong> I watch a lot of TV. But only because Mr. Clean refuses to get TIVO. He <em>claims</em> we would need a whole new dish, etc., etc.. It's a GIANT clusterpuck because instead of having satellite in our living room and bedroom, the 2nd receiver is in HIS PARENTS' living room, which is next door. Essentially, they are FILCHING satellite from us and therefore I cannot get TIVO. This drives me CRAZY because, dude.... I. Want. The. TIVO. (Okay yes, it saves them money and they let us live with them the first year we were married and blah, blah, blah... I'm a freakin' saint. Who wants the damn TIVO.)<br /><br /><strong>21)</strong> After watching the first episode of <a href="http://www.tnt.tv/series/trustme/"><span style="color:#ff99ff;"><strong>Trust Me</strong></span></a>, I decided that I should have gone into advertising. The mix of Crazy Stress and Creativity is SO right up my alley. Throughout the show, I like to point to an empty cubicle and announce, "There's my desk! Do you see it? Do you?" I'm now seriously considering going back to school.<br /><br />Quick Digression: Dudes!! You MUST click on the Video > Sneak Peeks link on the left-hand side. Don't bother watching the video (or do, if that's what flips up your skirt). But on <em>that</em> page, in the upper-right-hand corner is a little button that says: "Boss Coming? DRAMATIC PAUSE". Click. It. Hilarious!<br /><br /><strong>22)</strong> My favorite classes in High School were Marketing and English. I feel a bit stupid for finally figuring this out.<br /><br /><strong>23)</strong> Okay, serious consideration OVER. I have NO IDEA where I'd find the time to go back to school. I mean, seriously? Unless someone out there knows how to stretch 24 hours into 30. Then I'd do it.<br /><br /><strong>24)</strong> So WHAT if Michael Phelps took a hit off a bong?! Did anyone SEE how hard he worked to get to the Olympics - TWICE and then cleaned up while there? I'd be smoking a little hooch in my down-time too!!<br /><br /><strong>25)</strong> I had fully planned on counting the number of times I applied chap stick to my lips and lotion to my hands while writing this post (which I did on paper first, and it took me two days). I lost count. It was that many times. It's almost OCD. ALMOST.<br /><br />I'm tagging EVERYONE who reads this. Seriously! Go get a blog if you don't already have one. I want to read your stuff too dammit. :)<br /><br /><br /><br /></span><br /></span><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span>Dragonflyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09765108940676765396noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20539716.post-58224631077071736312009-01-30T11:16:00.004-06:002009-01-30T11:35:59.574-06:00A Taste of Where I've Been...<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I know, I know... I'm like the Master of the Disappearing Blog Act these days! So you know where I've been, these are random things overheard this past week:</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Shaggy</strong>: I'm drowning in my own saliva. I think maybe I have pneumonia and it's crawling out my mouth or something. You know, like the tide of phlegm is rising?</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Nurse @ Doctor's office</strong>: You're back AGAIN? Wow. You don't call and you don't write for like Two YEARS and now we can't get rid of you?</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Doodlebug</strong>: Oh cool. I have Fifth Disease and I never even got the other four. I have Fifth FIRST!</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Doodlebug</strong>: Does it REALLY look like you slapped my cheeks? Like you beat me or something? Should I hide my face so people don't think you abuse me?</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Shaggy</strong>: Didn't you go to *cough*cough* University of Texas?</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Doctor T</strong>: Yes, I did.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Shaggy</strong>: But you're wearing Maroon scrubs. Doesn't that bother you? Like sacrilege or something?</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Doctor T</strong>: I'm representing.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Shaggy</strong>: Cool. A&M kicks UT's butts all the time, you know that right?</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Doctor T</strong>: Looks like the Flu is doing it to you now. Payback?</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Shaggy</strong>: I can feel my trachea swelling shut. I'm probably going to die and the last thing you'll remember saying to me is, "Whatever, Shakespeare."</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Doodlebug</strong>: The green gatorade is nasty. It makes me feel like I'm going to turn into the Hulk. Can I have the purple? It's a much calmer color.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Shaggy</strong>: My ears are arguing about my fever.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Shaggy</strong>: No. I AM doing it right. I think I know how to stick this thing in my ear.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Shaggy</strong>: OWWW! Okay, maybe you should do it.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Me</strong>: Did you just see something run across the living room floor in front of the TV?</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Me</strong>: The cat is outside. Seriously, something just ran across the room. It wasn't big. Smaller than a cat, larger than a mouse.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Me</strong>: No, the fairies have NOT returned.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Me</strong>: No, I haven't had much sleep in the past few days.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Me</strong>: Okay, yes... perhaps I AM hallucinating.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">My kitchen looks like a pharmaceutical explosion at the moment. I'm a little low on sleep (but catching up fast). And my kids are FINALLY back in school, where they belong. Thank the gods. Oh thank you thank you thank you gods. (and if you do this to me again during end-of-month report time? I will not be responsible for my actions)</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span>Dragonflyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09765108940676765396noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20539716.post-47181441314146661332009-01-18T12:00:00.004-06:002009-01-18T13:06:40.369-06:00It Is What It Is<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">It's Day 3 of a 4-day weekend here (having taken off Friday and Monday is a work holiday). I started with a pile of books. They're now gone. Read. And translated into a sweeeet migraine headache at five o'clock this morning. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">It wasn't a surprise; I knew it was coming. I just didn't expect it to announce its arrival in the middle of Good Sleep & Dream, heralded with a chorus of deafening canine barking (through open windows), which made it near impossible to locate my uber-ibuprofen before I was convinced I'd pass out from the pain --- that in itself NOT unwelcome at the time.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Reading books for me is like a 5-year old with Easter candy. It's all about rationing it out so you don't get sick. I can't ration. I gobble and stuff and leave chocolatey rings around my mouth. And then I pay for it. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">The books were GOOD though (#5 - #7 of Charlaine Harris' Sookie Stackhouse series), so it all works out.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">It's been a very QUIET weekend here. Shaggy headed out Friday morning for a sailing seminar and a race in Kemah this weekend and my Dad - having been left high & dry in the grandson/sail-buddy department - invited Doodlebug down for his FIRST sailing weekend, so he went along - all smiles - with his brother. It's a coveted invitation.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">And as of this morning, it's </span><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">considered by us as The Official Announcement - Daddy is now converting my other child to the Ways Of The Wind & Water. --- This due to having been informed (by Shaggy) that Doodlebug was taken SHOPPING for foul weather gear and new boat shoes. When my Dad starts outfitting my kids in boat gear, it's official. Doodlebug is now crew-in-training.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">I find the whole thing Hilarious because it was not a few months back that my Dad informed me - picking his words very carefully - that he thought my youngest was a little on the spoiled side. (He is, and it's something we've been working on slowly but surely.) </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">It's not that I think my Dad is being hypocritical or anything like that. Oh no. It's tickling my funny bone because if my Dad took the wee one on a shopping spree... it means the wee one has been working his little tail off on that boat. And that's good for him. He needs it. But I can only imagine Doodlebug's facial expressions right now - probably a mixture of adoration and annoyance/frustration as he scrubs the deck and polishes the winches - outfitted, of course, in his new boat gear.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">When Shaggy called to check in, he was putting on a mighty Shakespearean performance. It seems that Day 1 of his sailing seminar located muscles he didn't know he had and pushed his fitness level into realms never before accessed. He's a fit boy. He runs, lifts weights, etc. But apparently not enough or not targeting the right body parts. He even suggested that we drive down to Kemah to pick them up, because he's not sure he can drive back tomorrow... being in such excruciating pain and all. I'm wondering how Day 2 is working out for him. *laughing* </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">The really cool thing about the seminar, though, is that one of the instructors was a silver medalist as the Beijing Olympic games and the other is a retired coach from the Naval Academy (where Shaggy intends to go to college). I told him he'd better "Sailor Up". His reply? "Goodbye, Mom." Heh.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">So.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">I have had all weekend to write but I am not WRITING and the reasoning is a big fat mystery. I guess the people in my head are on vacation also. I DO have a girl (Holly), sporting a crazy-short-spikey-all-over-and-streaked-with-pink hairdo flitting about in my head but she's not quite talking to me yet. I'm intrigued. And feeling slightly mentally ill --- a good sign, all in all. But still, no writing. It's annoying because as much as I'd like to do so... I can't force it. Patience is Not happy with this hundred-year-old tortoise crawling method of discovery.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">I'm not really either but It is What It Is. <---- that's my new saying of the year. It annoys me to say it, sometimes, which makes me think it's the RIGHT saying of the year.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">While I'm not writing and not working, I began to think of things to do instead because I am bored. This is dangerous -- according to Mr. Clean. Can't wait to see what he thinks when he hears I talked BabySis into going gambling with me at the end of the month. I'm excited!! I haven't been gambling in AGES. Like, really, YEARS and YEARS. Well, excluding the few quarters I stuck in a slot machine while on the cruise last summer... (does that even really count? I didn't get a free drink or ANYTHING while sliding those quarters in so I don't think it counts AT ALL.)</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Maybe I'll find character fodder while I'm in the casino. It'll be a working weekend! </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Well that's all I've got today. Mr. Clean is watching an old war movie (Father Goose) and I can hear the wind chimes outside so I'm thinking a nice walk in the cool-ish air would be nice. Y'all have a great remainder of the weekend!!</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span>Dragonflyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09765108940676765396noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20539716.post-75335877824308230812009-01-10T13:05:00.004-06:002009-01-10T13:58:05.213-06:00The Shhhh It's A Secret List<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I was reading a blog post the other day about Favorites Lists and how all those favorites that you put down for the world to see aren't indicative of the Real You. It's the favorites you keep secreted under your bed with the dust bunnies that really say something about who you are.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">You know what I'm talking about, right? All those things you secretly REALLY like but apologize for liking... those things that people scoff at in conversation and instead of piping up to say, "Hey, I like that!" you keep silent. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Supposedly this phenomena is called a Shadow List. I think I prefer to call it a Shhhh It's A Secret List. And here's mine:</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Disclaimer: You are instructed to FORGET these facts as soon as you read them, unless you share YOUR Shhhh It's A Secret List also!</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><br /><p><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">1. I sometimes eat Pop Secret Movie Theatre Butter popcorn, with a handful of M&M's thrown in to get melty soft, for LUNCH. It's a taste sensation for the lazy can't-get-up-from-my-desk-for-a-real-lunch crowd. Note: If you have this as a late-night snack with coffee and then go to bed? Wonky dreams, people. WONKY.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">2. </span><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">I'm <em>obsessed</em> with the show Friday Night Lights. I watch episodes online via Netflix while I work... pretty much every day. And while Taylor Kitsch has one of the hottest bods, ever, it's his mouth... the lips... that do it for me.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">3. I sometimes serve Hamburger Helper to my family for dinner - though I dress it up with all manner of fresh organic veggies and spices, to mask the fact that's it processed food from a box. </span></p><p><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">4. Any time the movie Valley Girl comes on TV, I <em>have</em> to watch it... even if it doesn't start until 3:00 AM. Have. To. The same goes for Sixteen Candles. And umm, maybe even The Goonies.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">5. I secretly LOVE American Idol and So You Think You Can Dance. Love! Them! I have never missed an episode. I had a long conversation with Mr. Clean about how The Superstars of Dance was a crappy imitation of SYTYCD. (it was!) Around the water cooler, though? I won't in a million years admit that I love either show.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">6. I eat my cereal dry and sometimes straight from the box, even if it's flakes with nuts and berries. I hate hate hate milk but I love me some Honey Nut Cheerios.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">7. Some of my favorite tops were bought at the devil's own playground - Wal-Mart. Enough said.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">8. I downloaded John Waite's "Ain't Missing You" and Corey Hart's "Sunglasses at Night" from iTunes and I listen to them a LOT. Also? When I'm in one of those happy-happy-dance-around-the-house moods? It's Bananarama's "Venus" that is playing in my head. I also like Def Leppard.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">9. I play online Bingo when I can't sleep. And I whisper "BINGO!" when I win. (Whispering because usually this is at 3 or 4 in the morning. If I yelled it, like I'd sometimes like to? Mr. Clean would come vaulting out of the bedroom, brandishing some form of weapon.)</span></p><p><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">10. I have a secret, secret crush on Shepard Smith from FOX News. I actually threw a complete and total meltdown hissy fit when I found out he was speaking at Texas A&M, just down the road from where Mr. Clean's and my office is, and Mr. Clean refused to go get his autograph for me (on the basis that he'd have to wait in a long line).</span></p><p><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">11. I watch All My Children... religiously... while telling everyone at work (who ASSUME I do nothing but watch soaps all day) that I don't even know the names of soap operas. It's an illness, folks. I've been watching this since I was like... umm, 12 or 13 years old.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">12. I don't understand the whole have-to-own-fifty-million purses thing. I. Don't. Get It. I have ONE purse... it's black leather, it's nice, and I got it on sale (75% off!). When it no longer functions, I will retire it and then buy another. </span></p><p><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">13. If someone asks me if red is my natural hair color, I LIE and say, "Yes." And they believe me. I do admit to getting it touched up to cover the grey (which started in my early twenties). Red is <em>not</em> my natural hair color. My natural color is described by my stylist as "Street Dog Blond"... it's kind of an ashy mousy blonde with freaky sable-like strands of strawberry blonde and light brown in it. (I've admitted this here before but the simple fact that I lie about it in public makes room for it on this list)</span></p><p><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Okay, that's all I can handle sharing at this time. Now it's YOUR TURN!! Don't leave me hanging, folks...</span></p><p><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span> </p><p><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span> </p><p> </p>Dragonflyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09765108940676765396noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20539716.post-37970010785262268092009-01-04T11:50:00.003-06:002009-01-04T12:27:29.325-06:00The New Year<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Okay, yeah... as Cuz Denise so thoughtfully left a comment... I really need to get back to blogging. Though honestly? I've been laying low so to save you folks from The Whine. This is what happens when I miss Thanksgiving in Georgia, where we usually go -- the rest of the year just sort-of meanders aimlessly down the path to nowhere and I have NO CLUE where I'm at. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Don't get me wrong! Christmas was great! (though I was fighting The Lung Crud for all of it) </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">I'm just a little lost in my own world at the moment. Okay, maybe a LOT lost. I went for a walk yesterday and just as I was heading home, Mr. Clean called my cell, squawking, "Just where in the heck are you?" </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">"Umm, WALKING? Like I told you I would be when I left. What's the deal?" </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">"Are you EVER coming home," he asked.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Apparently, the deal was that I'd been out walking for almost 3 hours. I swear I thought I'd just been gone one, tops. I have no recollection of the walking itself, though I know it was a lot of uphill. My arse tells me so every time I get up or sit down... or really just walk in general. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">New Year's went by with barely a whisper. I can't believe it's 2009 already. We had a very quiet night with friends and poker and booze and fire. --- I SWEAR I am not as redneck as that sounds. I'm not redneck AT ALL. Really. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Mr. Clean missed the New Year's kiss. Who wanders off to take out their contacts ONE MINUTE before midnight?? My husband, that's who. Doodlebug got the first kiss and C-Boy got the second. I'm not sure what that says about kicking off the new year. I'm not going to look too closely at it. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Then, after being badgered about resolutions (C-Boy), because I'd initially resolved NOT to make any... I finally settled for ONE: Finish something written this year. --- Of course now that I made the darn resolution, I feel PRESSURE, which I hate. 2009 - The Year For Neurosis!</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">I <em>have</em> slowly started writing in my journals again, here lately, and that's a good sign. After about September, I got so strung out and tied up with work, the writing had to be stuffed down inside for temporary hibernation. All the people in my head aren't quite awake yet but they're getting there... mostly still in the stretch-yawn-grumble-grumble-can-I-get-one-more-hour-of-sleep? stage. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">OMG!! I do have ONE thing about the writing to mention... C-Boy and I went to see Twilight the other day (Fabulous! Fun! Can't wait for the 2nd one!) and while sitting there watching the previews, this one comes on... and I freeze. Then I start elbowing C-Boy, my mouth opening and closing like a dying fish. He asks, "Are you okay?!"</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">"Noooooooooo," I tell him, trying to keep my voice from hitting an operatic soprano that will shatter glass.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">"What is WRONG with you?"</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">I point at the screen and whisper, "That's. My. Fucking. Plot!"</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">And it was. Not totally, but close enough that the last book I was working on... is TOAST. Watching Twilight made up for the disappointment (and raging anger) but seriously? SERIOUSLY? I swear. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Somehow I feel like it's karma. Or maybe a sign that I STILL haven't hit the genre I need to be hitting. I keep coming back to the first thing I worked on a few years back. And then I push it away. And then it comes back again. So that's what I'm starting with this year. That's what I'm going to finish. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">But I'm still really, really peeved about that preview (though the movie itself looks like it will ROCK... which it will because, helloooo, MY PLOT).</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Okay, I'm off to go be introverted and iPod laden on my front porch. All this introspection is a lead-up to writing. If only I can convince the rest of my family that this IS The Process. They keep asking if I'm okay. Yes! I'm fine! I'm pulling inward and THINKING! (because I finally have 2 seconds to myself)</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">They don't believe me. They think I'm dying or leaving or unhappy or God Knows What. I don't know which is more annoying --- that they won't trust that I'm fine when I say I'm fine or that it's been SO long since I've written, they've forgotten The Process. Sad, that.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">I hope you all had a lovely time ringing in the New Year, and that it's a good year for you!! I'll be around more, I think. Introspection leads to blogging every time. LOL</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span>Dragonflyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09765108940676765396noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20539716.post-10418250261538604142008-12-22T09:34:00.006-06:002008-12-22T10:10:22.849-06:00The Funk Punked Me!<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Well it turns out my little funk was a precursor to a full-blown NyQuil ad, plus PMS. Heh. We're having fun NOW, folks!</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Saturday, I yanked myself out of bed and schlepped my way across country... to get my hair done. There was no choice in the matter because I knew if I cancelled my appointment on the guise of being "sick", Ohhh Lordy... I'd end up in a snit for weeks. Plus! Pictures! That afternoon!</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Pictures that didn't happen. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">It seems that while I was out getting my hair prettified, Shaggy was embarking on his first Christmas Shopping Trip. Alone. The later story was full of Shakespearean excitment because not only did he drive to the nearest mall (read: Haven for Christmas Crazy of NO Comparison), he then had to drive AROUND the place for an HOUR while looking for a parking spot. And it was like being one of those tin ducks in a shooting gallery, by goodness! </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">He finally found a space, TWO MILES away, and had to WALK to the mall. Whereby he was almost killed THREE times by batshit crazy drivers who don't know what to do with pedestrians in pedestrian crossings... at RED LIGHTS.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Once he got into the mall, he thought FOR SURE there must have been some sort of terrorist bomb threat, because SERIOUSLY? People do not act like that NORMALLY.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">All this to buy his first paid-for-with-his-own-hard-earned-money presents. </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">And then he got lost coming home... Poor kiddo. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Hence, no pictures because he had to turn right back around and go to work. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">And as I am sitting here now, blogging, while sniffling and sneezing and coughing and wheezing... I <em>should</em> be taking a shower because we are supposed to be doing pictures in like AN HOUR. I'd roll my eyes but I think my head might have something else to say about that move.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Yesterday, however, I managed to FINISH my Christmas shopping. Well, except for a bottle of liquor for a gift basket because hey... did you know? They don't sell alcohol on SUNDAY! I guess I knew that but it didn't occur to me until I was standing outside the liquor store wondering Where's The Fruitbat?</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">I still have nothing wrapped.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">But I did make FUDGE!! Woo hoo! And it all made it into pans, as opposed to... you know... ON ME. (Well except for a very large swath of chocolatey goodness which thought decorating one boob of the clean shirt I'd just put on would be nice... oh, and a few drops of boiling sugary milk that felt my exposed toes looked cold. Yay!) </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Digression</strong>: While getting my hair done, I decided to have my toes painted too because, remember, the fairies came and stole the polish from my middle toes? </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">C, the resident nail person at the salon asked, "Do you trust me?" And I faltered... because, well... No. Any time someone asks me that, I immediately fling up Big Fat Steel-Cased Non-Trusting Walls. I don't know why. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">But C is persistent and snarky so she shoved me into the chair and said, "Close your damn eyes and let me do your toes, right?" </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">When I opened my eyes, she'd put a Christmas Party on my toes. Seriously. I'm in love with staring at them. It's like she turned my toenails into Dorothy's Ruby Red Slippers. *Sigh* (yes, I'm staring at them now) </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Nothing says <em><strong>Happiness</strong></em> like pretty toes. <strong>Digression over</strong>.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">So. Today, after I shower and pose for pictures and work for a little while, I think I might just make the cupcakes. Maybe. If I can figure out a way to BREATHE and, I don't know, STAND UP for longer than ten minutes without falling down like one of those fainting goats.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">And I'm SURE there's something I've forgotten... but, you know, I umm... FORGOT. It'll come to me (a day late and a dollar short, but it'll come).</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">This is MOST LIKELY the last time I'll blog until after Christmas soooo, until then: </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><span style="font-size:180%;">Hope you ALL have a Very Very Merry Christmas!!</span> </span><br /></span><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span>Dragonflyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09765108940676765396noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20539716.post-16294848141900944122008-12-18T00:24:00.003-06:002008-12-18T00:35:59.497-06:00Does UPS Overnight To Funk-ville?<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">It’s 7 days until Christmas and I’m officially freaking out. I still have LISTS of stuff needing to be bought, wrapped, or baked. Good Lord. I don't even have wrapping paper. Or I do? But it might not be enough. And I have NO tape.<br /><br />This coming weekend, in addition to getting my hair done (trust me, it's lonnnnng overdue) and then wrangling my family together for a last minute family picture, I have to bake Spitzbuben cookies, Pumpkin cupcakes, and make pans and pans of fudge. Let’s cross our fingers and hope the fudge makes it to the pans instead of slavered all over a nekkid crazy impersonation of me.<br /><br />Mr. Clean is still present-less. This is SO unlike me!! It’s like I just woke up from a very long nap and Hello! It’s Christmas, dummy. I have no clue where my head has been. No. Clue. <br /><br />And the stocking stuffers! Oh geez, oh pete… I just remembered that stuff.<br /><br />And C-Boy’s gift!! Funny man, that one. All of his favorite things start with a B; it’s totally weird. So we’re building him a basket full of his favorite B’s. So far, I have one B, of like TEN. Luckily, they’re not going to be hard to find. <br /><br />Y’all, I have NEVER been behind like this before. I’m the Planner, the List-Maker, and the Do-er. I’ve never been last minute or run-to-catch-up… and, honestly? I have NO idea how to deal with it all now except to suck it up and shoot some double espresso shots, then hope like hell my head doesn’t lift off for an impromptu trip to the moon! Heh.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">I really do feel like December has whizzed on past me without notice. And while I'm mostly a happy camper, it's time to admit that I am rubber boot deep in some sucking swampy quicksand of a major FUNK. I'd love to say that I'm clueless as to how I got in this position, but I'm not. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Unfortunately, it falls into the "unbloggable" category, though. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Doesn't <em>that</em> suck? *nodding head* Oh yes, indeedy, it does. Because I'd just love to ramble on about it all... but I'm not gonna.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">I do believe, however, that a pedicure could save the world at this point. Or at least fix the fact that my middle little toe - on BOTH feet - somehow lost all traces of their polish overnight. I don't know what's up with those sleep fairies but seriously? Enough is enough. </span>Dragonflyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09765108940676765396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20539716.post-20088427553462276782008-12-13T23:43:00.003-06:002008-12-13T23:52:17.042-06:00You know you live in Texas when...<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">... one day it's snowing and the next it hits the mid 60's</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">... you go out at 1 a.m., light a HUGE bonfire in the middle of the pasture, drive the truck out there, and turn up the stereo as loud as it goes, and no one is around to care.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">... after a full night of poker, tequila shots, and bonfire dancing - wherein you don't go to bed until 5 a.m. - you get up at 8 a.m. to pick up a load of hay.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">... you then go up the hill to the next door neighbor's house to shoot skeet for the next four hours with 10 other people who have equal hangovers.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">... the temperature plummets right back down to the 30's but the forecast is for 70's the rest of the week.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I'm not really all that wild but for a rare occasion (read: no kids around. Wooo hoooo!) Hope all of y'all's weekend was just as fun, though!</span>Dragonflyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09765108940676765396noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20539716.post-44176201680787009962008-12-11T11:30:00.005-06:002008-12-11T11:49:36.083-06:00Snow Day<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Oh my God, y'all... I live DEEP in the heart of Texas and yesterday? IT SNOWED. Now I know some of you Yankees (*grin*) are like, "Yeah... what-EVAH... it snows here ALL the time." Well boo on you. I haven't seen a real, decent, stick to the ground for more than FIVE SECONDS snow in, Lordy, I don't know how long. Years!</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">And because I am silly and easily excitable, I ran outside to twirl in the little snowflakes and take pictures! And video! </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Turns out... phone pictures SUCK. I now know why I wasn't <em>at all</em> concerned with having a picture phone all these years. Bah... what a waste. And the video? Too big to send to myself, apparently. Plus, it didn't even SHOW the snowflakes. Crap.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">But BabySis!! Oh, lovely BabySis with her fancy-schmancy i-PHONE (booger) took some pics at work and then emailed them to me. Granted, they got a bit more of the powdery white stuff than we did, but not by much.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMxbbjHHaCtjElxfTxtNVPrb26QSJsP0pVc86iVFvwSuTur5LwGi0tFPpp9HlIh0vYyn72zAyr41lbpCLZWjfn8kuFHPXHq92DDaqDOtULrGsaFs2wOIro5V61jxnef-n0IMje/s1600-h/snow_08.bmp"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278587663010825938" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMxbbjHHaCtjElxfTxtNVPrb26QSJsP0pVc86iVFvwSuTur5LwGi0tFPpp9HlIh0vYyn72zAyr41lbpCLZWjfn8kuFHPXHq92DDaqDOtULrGsaFs2wOIro5V61jxnef-n0IMje/s320/snow_08.bmp" border="0" /></span></a><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">That's her car.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Course, now it's all gone and we'll be hitting 70 again in a couple of days. Welcome to Texas. But for a moment, it was sweet. Except for the part where my horse went apeshit -- Apparently? She doesn't like stuff falling from the sky on her. We had a re-enactment of a steeplechase race here yesterday, complete with me on the phone to Mr. Clean: </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Me</strong>: "Oh My God... she's hauling BUTT around here. She's going to FALL! She's going to KILL herself!" </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Him</strong>: "Lock her in the paddock, then." </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Me</strong>: "Are you serious? You couldn't PAY me to go out there in the pasture right now. She'd Run. Me. OVER!" </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Me</strong>: "Oh Lordy, here she comes. She's going to run into the fence. She's headed right for me. Spend the insurance money wisely, dear." </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">And then my phone died. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I would have LOVED to have seen his face at work at that moment. I didn't get phone service back for a few hours. </span><br /><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">So... that was yesterday's drama. Today, I'm going to play a little hooky from work and watch a movie with C-Boy. If he ever gets here. Damn men... they're never on time. (Of course, while I'm whining about that... his tardiness DID give me a chance to blog. So.)</span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">See ya soon!</span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></p></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span>Dragonflyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09765108940676765396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20539716.post-72253582581701601032008-12-05T17:52:00.003-06:002008-12-05T18:17:36.170-06:00A Wild Ride<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Sooo much has happened since I last blogged (not counting the "I'm still alive" note). I don't even know where to start. Oh wait, yes I do...</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Remember those spider bites? Yeah. Not spider bites after all. Take it from me, folks, if you suddenly start showing up with little bites that look like maybe ants or spiders are snacking on you when you're not looking, and you can't find ANY signs of ants or spiders in your immediate vicinity, RUN to the doctor.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">I didn't. Oh noooo. I made Mr. Clean bomb the house and check beneath the bed covers every night. I treated my little spidery-anty bites with hot epsom salt compresses and Neosporin (and they went away). Then I got a big one. And then it got bigger. And bigger.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Finally, I broke down and had Mr. Clean take me to the doctor... who immediately sent me to the hospital for a righteous staph infection!!</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">I've been to the ER a few times, when in labor with my boys and for two different ankle injuries (okay, make that three). Anyhow... point being: I have <em>never</em> been to the ER for any sort of injury, which required people to come at me with needles or scalpels or anything SHARP. I can now cross that little gem off my list of things to NEVER EVER EVER do again. They did unspeakable things to me, then stuck an IV in my arm. And just when I thought perhaps I might truly lose my shit... they gave me the good drugs. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">I only remember one thing past that point... When the nurse (a HOT male nurse, btw, I Do remember that much) came by to remove my IV, my arm spurted a little blood. So I wigged out a bit. I'm not big on the blood gushing from my limbs, ya know? He turned to Mr. Clean, smiled as big as he possibly could and said, "Is she always this melodramatic?"</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">I sent him cookies. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">So there's one reason I haven't been around. The antibiotics they gave me were, quoting my lovely pharmacist, "MONSTER doses which are going to kick your butt." They did. I pretty much slept and whimpered through Thanksgiving, getting up only to cook a turkey and a few pies. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Good things that came out of this experience: </span><br /><ul><li><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">I can now recognize staph from a mile away</span></li><li><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">I caught up on some much needed sleep and a few TV shows</span></li><li><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">I didn't gain an OUNCE over Thanksgiving... as a matter of fact, I lost 10 lbs. </span></li></ul><p><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">So. </span><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">The reason I didn't end up blogging last night...</span></p><p><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Shaggy came home late from work and when he pulled up in the driveway, we could hear him gagging and retching outside. Of course, we ran to the door to see what was wrong -- right about the time he came bursting through it himself. Bringing along a giant cloud of SKUNK fumes.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">To hear him tell it... as he turned onto our private road, a skunk at the corner lifted its tail and sprayed his car. While he had his windows open. When asked WHY on earth he had his windows open in such cold weather, he replied, "It smelled good outside!"</span></p><p><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Apparently not for long.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">It occurred to me not long after he'd stripped in the living room and run for the shower, to ask, "Umm.. where exactly was the skunk coming from?"</span></p><p><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Shaggy: "Oh, the yard!"</span></p><p><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">One nice thing about still being a bit laid up? I had all the excuses I needed to send Mr. Clean outside to inspect the dogs for skunkage. And ohhhh boy, did they have it - you could smell them as soon as he opened the door. Thank goodness I know a great recipe for de-skunking (having provided it twice in the last few weeks to CBoy, whose Great Dane has had a couple of run-ins - probably with the same damn beast). </span></p><p><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Another good thing about having had staph:</span></p><ul><li><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">I didn't have to De-Skunk the dogs!</span></li></ul><p><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Of course, karma came to visit me today; a little payback for my schadenfreude... I found a grey eyelash. What the hell?</span></p><p><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span> </p><p><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span> </p><p><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span> </p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span>Dragonflyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09765108940676765396noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20539716.post-10657378921385433642008-12-04T10:57:00.002-06:002008-12-04T11:00:51.825-06:00Not Dead...<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Just a quick shout-out to say I Am Alive here. I'll be posting something (hopefully) later today.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Until then, check out this <a href="http://cakewrecks.blogspot.com/"><span style="color:#993399;">site</span></a>... and this <a href="http://www.passiveaggressivenotes.com/"><span style="color:#993399;">one</span></a>. They both make me laugh.</span>Dragonflyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09765108940676765396noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20539716.post-59899381823808285062008-11-10T11:21:00.003-06:002008-11-10T11:27:11.863-06:00Quizzery<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">It's raining and I'm <em>thinking</em> about writing (meaning: I am full of aimless procrastination and therefore surfin' the 'net). Anyhow. I came across this Quiz. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Oh. My. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">This has got to be the ONLY quiz I've ever taken that really, truly, fully hit the nail on the head. I agree with EVERY word.<br /><br />Freaky.</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><p><em>Your result for Are You a Jackie or a Marilyn? Or Someone Else? Mad Men-era Female Icon Quiz...</em></p><h4>You Are a Bette!</h4><p><img alt="mm.bette_.jpg" src="http://vintagegriffin.com/images/uploads/mm.bette_.jpg" /><br /><br /></p><br /><br /><p><span style="font-size:medium;"><strong>You are a Bette -- "I must be strong"</strong></span></p><br /><p><span style="font-size:small;">Bettes are direct, self-reliant, self-confident, and protective.</span></p><br /><p></p><br /><strong>How to Get Along with Me</strong><br /><ul><br /><li><span style="font-size:small;">* Stand up for yourself... and me. </span></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:small;">* Be confident, strong, and direct. </span></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:small;">* Don't gossip about me or betray my trust. </span></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:small;">* Be vulnerable and share your feelings. See and acknowledge my tender, vulnerable side. </span></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:small;">* Give me space to be alone. </span></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:small;">* Acknowledge the contributions I make, but don't flatter me. </span></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:small;">* I often speak in an assertive way. Don't automatically assume it's a personal attack. </span></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:small;">* When I scream, curse, and stomp around, try to remember that's just the way I am.</span></li><br /></ul><br /><p></p><br /><p></p><br /><strong>What I Like About Being a Bette </strong><br /><ul><br /><li><span style="font-size:small;">* being independent and self-reliant </span></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:small;">* being able to take charge and meet challenges head on </span></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:small;">* being courageous, straightforward, and honest </span></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:small;">* getting all the enjoyment I can out of life </span></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:small;">* supporting, empowering, and protecting those close to me </span></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:small;">* upholding just causes</span></li><br /></ul><br /><p></p><br /><p></p><br /><strong>What's Hard About Being a Bette </strong><br /><ul><br /><li><span style="font-size:small;">* overwhelming people with my bluntness; scaring them away when I don't intend to </span></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:small;">* being restless and impatient with others' incompetence </span></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:small;">* sticking my neck out for people and receiving no appreciation for it </span></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:small;">* never forgetting injuries or injustices </span></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:small;">* putting too much pressure on myself </span></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:small;">* getting high blood pressure when people don't obey the rules or when things don't go right</span></li><br /></ul><br /><p></p><br /><p></p><br /><strong>Bettes as Children Often </strong><br /><ul><br /><li><span style="font-size:small;">* are independent; have an inner strength and a fighting spirit </span></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:small;">* are sometimes loners </span></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:small;">* seize control so they won't be controlled </span></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:small;">* figure out others' weaknesses </span></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:small;">* attack verbally or physically when provoked </span></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:small;">* take charge in the family because they perceive themselves as the strongest, or grow up in difficult or abusive surroundings</span></li><br /></ul><br /><p></p><br /><p></p><br /><strong>Bettes as Parents </strong><br /><ul><br /><li><span style="font-size:small;">* are often loyal, caring, involved, and devoted </span></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:small;">* are sometimes overprotective </span></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:small;">* can be demanding, controlling, and rigid</span></li><br /></ul><br /><p></p><br /><p><a href="http://www.helloquizzy.com/tests/are-you-a-jackie-or-a-marilyn-or-someone-else-mad-menera-female-icon-quiz">Take Are You a Jackie or a Marilyn? Or Someone Else? Mad Men-era Female Icon Quiz</a> at <a href="http://www.helloquizzy.com/"><b style="color:#131313;"><span style="color:#ac000c;">H</span>ello<span style="color:#ac000c;">Q</span>uizzy</b></a></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Try this one!</span></p>Dragonflyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09765108940676765396noreply@blogger.com2