New Look
My youngest decided that she and the cat needed a new look. Unfortunately this isn't a mommy-sanctioned new look.
Now, my daugher looks like a hospital patient, or a child version for the part of Frankenstein, and the cat has a bald spot on the back of her head and is sans whiskers on one side.
This of course is just in time for the wedding we all are attending tomorrow. Hopefully my family will look past my child's self-given hair cut and focus on the really cute pink dress she'll be wearing. No, I couldn't find a hat for her...believe me I tried.
Depth of My Paranoia
The other day I was checking my sitemeter, I find it interesting to know where the readers of my little blog come from. Some are from Arkansas, others are from Texas, or Nebraska. Quite a few from Michigan. Mostly people I know. The information sometimes provides the internet provider, or company and for my friends, that is how I can tell if you are checking in on me and making sure I'm still alive...
But the other day, when I checked it I saw one that said Ann Arbor, MI. And the internet service provider was for the company I worked for.
My stomach dropped, and I started to sweat a little. Visions of Dooce danced in my head as I feared that someone from work had been reading my blog. And what if that hangs me in the future...I mean, I was scathingly honest about my feelings on being terminated...
I wondered how someone had found out about my blog, and then I realized that I had looked on my blog...so maybe someone from I.T. had been spying on me...and then they would have found out how many times I checked my personal email and logged on to my college website every day.
Oh my gosh, I'm committing corporate seppuku via internet...
So of course, I took measures to clean out my internet files and deleted the cookies that had been stored.
Then it hit me. ..
I had checked my blog that day. I.T. hadn't been spying at all. And if they were, they didn't care. It was ME the whole time.
And then I realized...what a complete paranoid moron I am, and how a little guilt can go a LONG LONG way.
Chocolate Automoton
I just gorged myself on 1/2 a bag of Hershey's Kisses before realizing that they really didn't taste very good.
After Me Own Lucky Charms
My daughter's favorite cereal is "Lucky Charms". She will settle for the Kroger version of this cereal as well, which is aptly named "Treasures".
She clings to the box at the grocery store, and won't let it out of her sight. Eyeing the clerk suspiciously, and vehemently protesting once the bagger puts it into a bag out of her sight and reach.
At home, she wants a bowl. Dry. She eats the marshmallows out of the bowl, leaving the dry cereal. Then asks for more. I oblige because I understand.
I remember one time I ate all of the "charms" out of a new box of "Lucky Charms". It ticked my mom off pretty bad..she knew that I woudn't eat the rest of it. I was forever doing things like that. I once was caught taking big gobs of frosting off of my birthday cake before anyone had a chance to cut and serve it. I was old enough to know better.
I'll have to keep an eye on the little one. Otherwise I won't have any frosting on the cake when I go to serve it to my guests...
I think that she knows I like the marshmallows. She makes a big deal out of sharing them with me. I know she doesn't have to share, it's nice that she does though...because it means that she is at least one step nicer than I will ever be.
21 days
I am looking around my house and realizing what a horrible horrible pig sty it has become in my absence.
My humble house has been neglected. And it shows.
All the work I put into maintaining a clean home has flown out the window. So, over the next few days I'll be working to put everything back in order...and find out where that appalling smell is coming from.
I'm No Harry Callahan
I'm actually afraid to go to work tomorrow. Not because I don't like the work. Not because I hate my boss. Not because there is a creepy guy who stares at me through the crack in his cubicle door and makes heavy breathing sounds out of his flaring nostrils.
None of those reasons. Because none of those things are true.
What is true, is that tonight I sat on the streetcurb in front of a police station crying my eyes out until A. a kind stranger came up and asked if I needed help and B. my husband picked me up.
The events leading to my crying in front of the police station are what is scaring me from going to work tomorrow morning.
Simply stated; my children need me home.
In the past 21 days that I have been back to work I the following things have happened:
1. My youngest child was missing, and the police were called.
2. My middle child decided to steal $120 and take it to school.
3. My oldest child was assaulted by a group of kids at the bus stop.
For those of you who just jumped up to grab the phone, he is okay. It was basic stupid kid stuff, but the world is crazy...and what if next time they are mad enough to bring a weapon? That IS the world we live in. I'm not oblivious.
So, when God kicks me in the head 1-2-3. times (yes that is an average of 1 crisis per week), I finally get the picture. I have no business working outside the home when there is so much work that needs to be done AT home.
Think about it: Missing/ Stealing/ Assault. Those aren't little kid words. Those are big scary adult-world words.
I've been so caught up in trying to be "Everything Mom" that I haven't been trusting God to let me just be "Mom". The days of me having to be "Everything Mom" ended when Caleb and I got married...me working outside the home, while nice on the pocketbook, is not feasible for the well being of the family. I get it now. Money is not worth shit unless there is a family (a healthy, in one piece family) to enjoy it.It won't be easy...and yes, I'll still be making extra money with Mary Kay...but my first job has to be Wife and Mom. Otherwise...what am I really working for?It's scary, because this afternoon I was really coming to the decision to stay and work the interim assistant job (reporting to the Prez of the company) until it turned into something more substantial...not 5 minutes later I receive a distress call from home.So--tomorrow I may be going in to get my check and that's it. I don't really feel like playing games of chance with my kids. I don't feel that lucky.
With Sprinkles On Top
Adding insult to injury, I was informed today that I could take the less illustrious position of the administrative assistant that assists the executive administrative assistant...which that have gloriously titled "floater".
...
My brain is trying to wrap around the fact that they have suggested I take a job that is named after something you would flush down the toilet.
I have 8 years experience as an EA, and am 1 month away from my Bachelor's degree in Business Management...and they offer me "floater".
Sadly, the reality of it is that I may have to actually consider it because my husband reports that he may no longer have a job.
Frikkin worse than pig's thumbs.
It's All Pig Thumbs From Here...
I've had one glass of dessert wine tonight.
Just to relax.
I've been reading blogs, and making nonsensical comments.
Now...I'm going to have another glass of wine,partake of some Amaretto-chocolate swirl fudge, and stare into the fireplace to watch the flames dance to classic rock tunes.
It truly is all pig thumbs.
On the Other Bright Side
After receiving the news of my termination, I immediately [after the crying] emailed three of my nearest and dearest...for moral support [of course].
I am now looking forward to some Cold Stone Creamery on Friday night, or Sunday afternoon...or at least some time in the very near future. Because she knows me THAT well, and could care less about my butt size.
No job = Have Ice Cream.
Ice Cream will solve everything, but only if you have a friend to share it with...and that is a VERY bright side.
Feels Like Fired
Today I was called into my boss's office and informed that someone else was chosen for the position I was filling, and that I would no longer be needed.
I did understand that it was a temporary job. However, it was made pretty clear that it was temporary with a high liklihood to turn permanent. And that at the very least it would be a three months stint. So, I went into it giving it my all. Apparently my all didn't make the cut.
Actually, my all would have made the cut had I not been misled. Someone had been chosen prior to my accepting, and that someone had been waffling on accepting the offer on the table.
If I had known, I wouldn't have rearranged my life in order to take a job that was doomed from the start.
But I didn't know...and I did. And sitting in her office, being told that her EA would be starting in two weeks felt awfully reminiscent of being fired. I've been fired once in my lifetime. Unfairly at that. I was accused of stealing because I was the only Caucasian. 6 months later, they found out that it was one of their own. I received no apology.
She did let me know that they would give me a good reference...Like the 20 days I worked there will even be worth the ink on my resume.
I remained composed for the while, and after I left her office headed straight for the bathroom to cry. I hate crying at work. It sucks so bad. Especially when the only access I have to an enclosed room is shared by toilets.
On the bright side, I have finally got it through my head that I do not want to be an assistant any longer. Not because I find the work unpalatable, but because every single job I have had as an AA has ended badly. I grow tired of being laid off. So ends my illustrious career of administrative assistant work.
They wanted me to stay a few weeks longer, to possibly "transition" the new girl. However, feeling no loyalty whatsoever to my misleading boss, I have decided that it would be in my own best interest to part ways a week earlier and focus on my schoolwork.
Semblance of Order
Only when the house is tidy, save for a nicely "lived in" look...
Only when there is a load of dishes in the washer and a freshly cleaned kitchen counter...
Only when there is a load of laundry in the wash, and the dryer is whirring...
Only when the clothes are put away...
Only when the floor has been vacuumed and the spots removed...
Only when the bathrooms are cleaned and santitized; a fresh towel hangs on the rack...
Only when the shelves are dusted; the doorknobs and switchplates disinfected...
Can I sit down and relax.
Only when the papers are filed away...
Only when my personal affects are placed in my cabinet...
Only when the post-it notes with my many scratches are tossed...
Only when my pens are tucked away in their cup...
Only when my red "Lucy" cup sits pertly near my keyboard within hands reach...
Only when the ink stamps are lined in a neat row in the top drawer...
Only when the phone is santized, and the desktop wiped clean...
Only when the mail is sorted, distributed, and interoffice envelopes put back...
Can I sit down at my desk and work.
The need for orderliness and structure in my surroundings overcomes me to the point of unrest absolute.
Everything in its place, and a place for everything...and then I can breathe. My heartbeat slows pace. My vision clears. My thoughts focus.
But I live in a very messy world; in which nothing is in my control.
Except...
The pens that are tucked neatly away in their cup. By color.
How Do You LIke the Job?
I have been asked that several times over the course of this past week by my co-workers.
Apparently this was a very hectic week. It is obvious that they don't realize I am a mother of three children.
My job is going very well. Though, sometimes I am a little disheartened that it is a temporary gig. Other times I am glad that there will be a reprieve.
The people I work with are VERY nice. I think that they honestly thought I would bolt after the first few days. I guess what they don't realize is that I have had some very bad work experiences...very bad.
All I know is that it is nice to get thanked for doing my job. Of course...I haven't truly screwed anything up yet. Give it time.
When we...
When we are old we want to be young
When we are young we want a smaller butt
When we had a smaller butt we wanted to be older
I've decided that if I keep on wishing for things [about myself] that I don't have, I'm never going to be happy where I am at. So, I am stuck with me where I am at right now...and whatever will be, will be.
P.S. I've never wanted a bigger butt.
Get Off His Back
by Ben Stein
I read this over at Slush, and believe it is worth passing along.
Thank goodness I'm not the only one who isn't pinning the maladies of the world on one man. Surely President Bush isn't old enough to be accountable for everything...surely he can't know every single detail of local government in the United States. Of course, if we ARE blaming everything on him, then I'm really ticked that he put George on my foot.
How to Test My Patience...
Don't give me my entire food order so that 5 days later I will discover that I really don't have any chicken, hotdogs, turkey breast...or any meat whatsoever in my freezer...so that when I get home to start dinner there will be nothing to prepare.
How did I not know 5 days ago? My kids put the groceries away...AND my head is so far up my butt that I will need to cut eye holes pretty soon.
I think that this has been my biggest indication [so far] that I need to slow down. Either that or cut some eye holes for the baggers at Kroger.
I need a leather coat
I swear, I wish that I had this much finesse...the body would be nice too.
Sigh of relief, for now
I am finally caught up with my homework...I've been barely treading water for the past 2 weeks. Now if I can just keep afloat, I may just stay sane.
Thank goodness these are my 'proposed' last two classes. Proposed because they may throw a wrench at me again and say "oh you have to take this class as well..."
Until then, sigh of relief that I am not behind any longer.
Something to be said...
Today I was informed that there is something to be said for just staying on my course and completing my degree.
I was also informed that specializing in International Business is a waste of time, and basically considered a joke in the business world.
That may very well be true.
However, there is also something to be said for keeping your unsolicited opinions to yourself.
George and the Wooden Spoon
I have a deep dark dirty secret. And I am about to share it with the entire internet; which really consitutes as three drunken readers , two if which make comments under different names in order to keep the illusion that I have friends...
anyhoo.
My secret is that I have a wart.
It's gross, so no need to comment on that. I already know.
But today, in an attempt to get rid of the one that is planted on the bottom of my left heel...I went to the footologist [not really sure what a foot doctor is called at the moment]...I received an injection of some super duty anti-viral medicine.
That seems easy enough. Let me go into detail.
For the past few months I have been cleverly masking the excrutiating pain of having a foot growth. I can barely step down on my left foot. You won't hear me complain about it unless you are my husband...
Okay...so back to my excrutiating pain. Seriously...I couldn't dance even if I wanted to, and I want to.
So I became fed up...and I scheduled myself for an appointment to see how to get rid of it, because quite honestly...I was about to dig the thing out of my foot myself. I had been entertaining the idea of burning it out as well...but since I am not into self mutilation...I decided to get the doctor involved..[OH it's a podiatrist!! ...I think].
Okay, so I get to the doctors office at 7:00 AM, and he looks at it and offers an alternative to surgery...becuase that is what it is called when one cuts something off [or out] of the body. Surgery.
He very cheerfully explains that he can inject my foot with a very strong medicine, and then in a couple of weeks it will die [because its frikkin ALIVE]...it will turn black, and then my body will reject it, and it will fall off.
Wouldn't THAT be a fitting treatment for genital warts? I think so.
Anyway...I agree...because I don't want to be laid up for a few days missing work for that is not really my plan.
They numb the area...which entails blasting the bottom of my foot with super cold stuff. I mean arctic, make my leg bone feel like it is going to shatter cold.
Then, they insert a needle into the growth.
I'll repeat that for all three of my dedicated readers.
They insert a needle into the growth...
...which is in the bottom of my foot, which is already in pain I don't care if they say that the cold stuff will numb it.
I think my eyes rolled back into my head as I white knuckeld the armrests and broke out into a cold sweat.
Usually what I do in these extreme instances of pain is remind myself that I gave birth to three children...
But that didn't really help.
The amazing thing is that after he was done torturing George [because you have to name it if you are going to kill it]...he patted my foot and said "good job...you didn't even flinch"
Didn't even flinch? Didn't even flinch?? What the heck??
Apparently he didn't notice the teeth marks on my bottom lip from biting down to divert the pain.
oh that's right, foot doctors are called "comedians"...
I think that I'll call up the the comedian's assistant and tell her to keep some wooden spoons on hand for my next appointment.
P.S. I shower EVERYDAY.
Material Girl
And I was like, this skirt has the wrong tag on it, and the sales lady told me that they couldn't sell it to me because it was illegally tagged...and I was like, but I like it...and she was like, well I'm sorry...
I think I have reverted back to a teenager, in a bad way...I am very seriously done with shopping for quite a long time.
However, the skirt did look very very nice.
Family Circus
Things have been pretty hard lately. Starting a new job and school at the same time was difficult. Finding daycare and letting go has been harder on me. Coming to terms with my Mary Kay business and what I want from it, and not what it wants from me...hard as well.
However, the hardest part of all of this is the fact that I barely see my husband.
Our hours are different...he works until late at night, so by the time he gets home, I'm almost ready to go to bed.
Weekends are much the same. He has been working every weekend at the Ren Fest, so he is essentially working 7 days a week. It's especially hard on him, this crazy schedule he is keeping, because he is exhausted during the week; sore and exhausted on the weekends.
Sometimes I wish that we had family members that lived close by who could take the kids once in a while, just so that we could have some time to ourselves.
Caleb and I never really had a time where we could just date and hang out. There were always my kids. So, when we got married it was instant family. Instant family is not easy. It means forgoing the newlywed adventures and jumping right into family adventures. This has been an adjustment for both of us. For Caleb because I don't think he expected it to be this hard, and myself because I thought he understood it would be this hard.
Sometimes I am wistful regarding the fact that we don't have a grandma or grandpa who will happily come over and watch their grandkids. Or even friends with kids of their own with whom we could trade babysitting favors.
I get very nervous about asking our friends to watch our children, I know that there is nothing we can give them or do for them in return. Thankfully they are able to watch over the kids once in a while, otherwise Caleb and I would be having a harder time than we already are.
Raising three children is not easy. I know that if in the future we decide to have one more, we may as well kiss our alone time good-bye for at least 5 years. No one is going to want to help us with our family circus. I'm praying that by that time we won't feel so angsty about it.
Maybe we'll give up and finally hand over the drama of couplehood for the drama of parenthood, until then we are still trying to figure out a way to have both. We are greedy that way.
Statistical Fact
For every one loudmouth, blow hard, right wing, Bible thumper there are a thousand loving, kind-hearted, self-giving, genuine Christ-loving people.
How come we get lumped together?
It's kind of like saying that all Muslims are terrorists.
We all know that's not true.
Hi my name is Kassi and I love...
I'm not very good at introducing myself to large groups, or small groups for that matter. I never think of anything suave, witty, intelligent or even comprehensible to say. So at last Wednesday's Bible study, when it was being proposed that we stand and introduce ourselves and tell everyone one thing that we love...my mind started racing, and my palms began to sweat.
What do I love? Gosh...that could be anything. There are so many things that I really like doing. I have so many interests...white water rafting, hiking, painting, music, dancing, writing [duh], children, marriage, coffee, Coke, chocolate, food, movies, books, working,...etc. etc. the list goes on.
What should I say, what can I say that would summarize me to a group of strangers so that they could fully appreciate and understand my interests. I'd rather have handed out notecards with my blog address.
Nothing substantial was coming to my mind. Nothing that wouldn't make me sound superficial, flaky, boring, or one-dimensional.
At least I had 40 other people ahead of me, being that I was sitting at the back of the room in the far left corner.Maybe we would run out of time before they got to me...maybe I could just sit back and be "skipped". That's easy enough...they always start at the front.
Then I heard the dreaded words..."okay let's start with you there...in the back". 80 eyes turned towards me, waiting for me to tell them something about myself.
I said the first thing that spilled out of my mouth.
Unfortunately it was a complete lie. And now everyone thinks I'm someone I am not.
The worst part? Enduring the next 40 suave, witty, intelligent, and endearing introductions and fighting back the urge to raise my hand and say "me to!
*sigh*
Looking Forward
Today I am looking forward to having lunch with my friends. We haven't been able to coordinate schedules for a long time.
It is going to be nice to sit and have lunch, and talk talk talk. So much has happened since the last time we got together.
I've got other things planned for today, such as actually getting a handle on my homework, cleaning the house, and grocery shopping. I'm hoping to watch a movie tonight, read a book for fun, or actually get out my paints...it's been so long since I've painted...
But I am really looking forward to sitting down with two of my closest friends and just being.
Favorite Memory Archive
Shopping in Japan.
I lived in Okinawa for a year, and by far it was summed up as the best shopping experience I have ever had.
I loved browsing the aisles of everything...whether it was clothes, toys, food, or stationary...
I loved figuring out what things were, and how much they were going to cost in American dollars.
I loved the clothes, purses, shoes, stationary, stoneware, and glassware that you could not find in an American mall.
I loved the aisles of food,the dessert shops--even the vending machines.
I loved the little unexpected treasures found in unexpected shops that can only be found on the winding alley streets of Okinawa. Every day out was a shopping adventure. Something new to be found. I souvenir shopped for an entire year. Of the things I bought I still have:
1 very tiny purse mirror, ingeniously thin.
A unique silver ring.
2 purses
A red cotton bag.
A grapefruit spoon.
Several Chopsticks
Tea cups
Rice bowls
A large fan with panda bears painted on it
2 long vests
1 pair of slippers
A houndstooth checked dress
1 pr. of toe socks
1 mechanical pencil
1 bathing suit that I won't even think of trying on
Ocarina
Notebook paper
Stationary
Thankfully there is an Asian market nearby my home so that I can stock up on Pocky from time to time. When I step inside, the scent of the store takes me back in time...back to shopping in Japan.
If only they could bottle the salt air as well.
Testing Testing 1-2-3
I have to say that at this point in my life, I am very very fortunate to have an abundance of warm, wonderful, intelligent, and supportive friends.
It wasn't always like that.
It's been a difficult road getting me to the point of trusting, and allowing myself to get close.
So I don't take my friendships for granted. I try to nurture them...and at the very least let my closest friends know how much I love and care for them. I don't want them to think that I take them for granted.
And there are days that I appreciate them even more than they think.
Because I could be a bitter woman who can never say anything nice to a living soul, and in fact make snide comments meant to eat pick away at anothers esteem. All the while attributing my self as a righteous and highly moral and upright human being who is beyond reproach.
If I ever become that woman...I give the entire internet permission to slap me. Because that is certainly what I WANT to do to her. One of these days I may have the courage to ask her to remove her stick. Until then, I blog.
Artificially Enhanced
Sometimes I am prone to phases of pure superficiality.
I like to shop for clothes. And I dont' get to very often, so when I do, I kind of get all girly and go crazy. Yes, I get the "deer in the headlights" look when I enter my favorite stores, especially when I am allowed to buy some clothes.
*Note to everyone, don't go shopping with me. It's a nightmare.
I also enjoy spending time getting my hair done. And for goodness sake, I sell Mary Kay. So, yeah I like make-up.
Don't misunderstand; I enjoy camping, hiking, biking, white water rafting. None of which are for the faint of heart. You need to be rugged enough to endure the elements. I like baseball, hockey, and I like to wrestle and I play hard...I'm not a wimp.
However, my one true vice are pretty nails. Something that I can't achieve naturally...and I envy those who can grow perfectly sculpted and strong nails. Instead, I have short raggedy boy nails. That's okay, I don't mind. Especially when it comes to camping and the like.
But when I am in my professional attire, or dressed up nice, nothing throws off the polished look more than a set of raggedy nails.
Confession: I check peoples nails, especially when we first meet. How people treat their fingernails says a lot about a them. Trust me.
My nails? Always clean. Usually short. But today I got them artificially enhanced [her words not mine]. The nail tech, she filed each one to my specifications.
I know...it's cheating.
I don't care, they're pretty.
*insert girly giggle here*
Where to go and how to get there...
My husband is on the phone with his 80+ year old grandmother trying to explain how to use her digital cable box, and all of it's features, functions and etc, so that she can watch her programs in crystal clarity.
Mind you the remote control that goes with the box has 45 buttons. 45.
I hate that remote control.
However, I feel somewhat vindicated because he is experiencing what it is like trying to give him driving directions from wherever he got lost, to wherever he is suppose to be...[via the phone] without using words such as north, south, east, or west. Because he is directionally challenged.
All in good time...all in good time.
pitter pat
While doing my homework tonight I felt a soft tapping on my ankle. Two little paws taking turns patting my foot.
I was met by the inquisitive gaze of a tiny cat named Tangerine.
I put my hand down to scratch at her head, but she leaned into my hand, so I, not being such a dumb human attempted to pick her up, and learned that was what she was waiting for.
For the next 15 minutes she sat on my chest purring. Giving me a diversion from the computer screen.
Funny how a selfish act of wanting to be petted led to a much needed break for the human.
Perhaps it wasn't so selfish.
All in Day
Today was shaping up to be a nice, busy, yet normal day. I had come to work prepared, which says a lot.
I remembered to bring with me the cool red stapler I had ordered.
My clothes matched, and I had somehow received the "memo" on today's colors. Everyone was wearing black and white, including myself.
I had a nice cup of Irish Creme coffee, freshly brewed.
I brought my breakfast and lunch.
I was settled to get to work, and nothing was going to stop me.
Nothing could go wrong.
I decided at about 9:40 AM to give Caleb a quick call to find out how his morning was going. I half didn't expect him to pick up the phone, because Snoog was due to be at school in 20 minutes.
He did pick up.
And that is when my world went black.
I was met with his panic-stricken voice with the words that struck fear in my heart the moment they made sense: I can't find Kimi.
Mind you...I have heard and experienced this before. Kimi has a habit of finding the most inopportune time to hide, and she remains very very quiet.
But today was different. Today I was 30 miles away, with no control, no ability, and no way to rationalize. All of my fears about going back to work came tumbling down on me...I had abandoned my baby, and she is gone, and she needs me, and I'm far away...
So I did the only thing I could do, and I called 911.
It was probably the most infuriating and desperate 2 minutes of my life...I had to be transferred, lost connection, and then called again...pleading for the dispatch to just get it right...to hurry...to send help because my husband was literally falling apart and my daughter was missing.
Every scenario that could possibly occur was running through my head like and IMAX theatre gone terribly wrong. Around and around the nightmare continued and intensified my feeling of helplessness.
My co-workers, bless them, were very kind...understanding. Immediately I was ushered away and informed that I was being driven home by one of my bosses. Good thing, because my hands were shaking so bad...I'm sure I'd have broken every law possible to get home, ending me up in the hospital.
It was in my bosses car that I started praying. And then I called Caleb again...to find out if the police had arrived. He, with much relief in his voice informed me that he had found her in the hall closet hiding behind the jackets and shoes.
I finally exhaled.
I was going to go to Sally's Beauty supply to buy some hair dye to either lighten or darken my hair...to hide the garden of white hairs that I have been cultivating over the past year...I think instead I'll just bleach my hair white and get it over with.
The worst...
is when the one you love moves the cat box to directly under the desk [because the maintenance may be coming in to work on the bathroom] and forgets to put it back where it belongs...and then the cat makes a huge stinky.
seriously cat...you make my eyes water. It's a good thing you are cute otherwise you would so be out of here.
He Loves Me
I love that he doesn't need a special occasion. I love that he knows that he doesn't need a special occasion. Sometimes "just because" is just perfect.
Kitty on the Go
Kimi got a hold of my camera again. This is my favorite surprise snapshot out of the 50 0r so shots she took before I realized what she was doing. Dang she's clever.
Question Answered
I've always wondered who removes the dead animal carcasses from the roadsides. My question has been answered....
It's a human being who does it and not a roadside monster who creeps out in the middle of the night to devour said sunbaked and bloated treats.
Now I can sleep.
Glutton for Punishment
A little over a month away from my BBA...and I have discovered that I may want to switch my major.
What's wrong with me?
Diverse City
I usually listen to WMUZ while I'm driving. It's a local Christian radio station, and quite frankly, I am now more familiar with Christian music than I have ever thought I would be. Which is strange for someone who four years ago would not listen to Christian music if her life depended on it.
File that under the number one reason when, when I spent three months of my life homeless, I would not admit myself and Kimi to a shelter for displaced women and children...they didn't allow secular music. Yes, I am that stubborn.
So...now that I have revealed myself as either a hypocrit or convert...[or maybe a lot less foolish]
Friday morning on the way to work, I was surprised once more by the panache of the morning D.J.'s. They are sassy and sometimes shocking for Christian radio, but their style has given me new insight. For instance Christianity isn't just for white middle class suburbanites who drive minivans and drink lattes.This is the thinking that I need to counter every time I go to church, since the church I currently attend is very very white.
Friday morning they played the "Secret Stash" song. The song: Diverse City by Toby Mac. Which is every bit of funk that you could swing your hips at on a Friday morning sitting in bumper to bumper traffic.
I turned up the volume, opened the windows, and soaked in the message:
They call us Diverse City, we're colorful good
It's like a freak show in your neighborhood
So, if you wanna praise you can come on down
Cause this freak show's leaving the ground
Up, up and away, baby we don't play, maybe you thought you was done for the day
He said, she said, I said this, that you can't get away from your moment of bliss
Stirring, we'll lure you in and we'll make room for the shade of skin
Short ones, tall ones, skinny ones, bigger, love is the gun and we pullin' that trigger
So you send me and I'll send you hope in the form of a new tattoo
Mine is the shiny city on a hill and yours, of course, is the colors that fill itWe'll take you high,
we'll take you higher
Now come to the city where you can praise
If you're black, if you're white, if you're yellow or grey
In the morning, in the night, anytime of dayWhat's that place - Diverse City
With curls in your hair and braids on the side
Straight shake'em loose, just come on and ride
We're a body with parts, like you and me
Together we make diversity
You bring the heart, I'll bring the soulI'll bring the flag, you bring the pole
We'll fly it high so the whole world knows
The dream of a king 'bout to unfold
We 'bout to do this thing for realDiverse City got mass appeal
So put your hand in the hand of mine
And we'll spread this love like dandelions
After the song ended I realized that there is something integrally wrong with how I have been praising Him. Christianity isn't always a comfort zone. Church isn't a safe harbor to cling to every Sunday morning--sometimes it's dangerous and scary. Spreading the word is overcoming challenges like color of skin, and different ways of life. I had no idea that I was conforming. Now that I do realize, I am open to new possibilities. I want to be part of that Diverse City.
Today I...
ate waaaaay too many Reeses Pieces.
Office Space
This morning I arrived to work early enough to clean my office space.
I don't exactly have a cubicle in that my space is octagonal, rather than square, or rectangle. Everyone's space is shaped the same, giving me the impression of a beehive. We are certainly busy bees.
So today I was able to organize my little pod of the honeycomb. Which entailed a lot of throwing things away that I knew may be important, but are duplicatable in the event. For now, they were incomprehensible clutter. It also meant dusting and disinfecting. The latter was mainly on the phone. I have a thing about germy phones.
Not that the last person who used it was germy. But I imagine the dozen or so other people who have used it and it makes me throw up a little. Have you ever smelled the handset of an office phone. Blech.
Regurgitate like a bee. But not really.
Near my pod is a the most exquisite thing ever. It is called a coffee bar. Every day, all day I can smell the aroma of fresh brewed Starbucks coffee. Because we have a coffee bar. in the office. near my pod. You understand what this means right?
No, that's okay, I don't either...I just find it fascinating, and extremely campy. Therefore it makes me happy.
The coffe bar also has a cappucino maker, hot cocoa machine, and a hot tea brewer, if you are so inclined. I'm just glad I could navigate the contraption so that it didn't blow up. The company I work for is in love with gadgetry. Which is fine by me because it means not having to deal with monster out-dated equipment.
I was also able to place my rather large supply order. You realize this is the best part of the new job. The "oh I need certain things in order to do my job...how much is my budget? $500 is the max per order? How many orders can I place...ha ha ha...oh I can place as many as I need as long as each doesn't go over $500...oh...well I was just kidding, but if you insist...."
Okay, that was the conversation, and they weren't kidding, but I only spent what I needed. Damn my scruples.
So tomorrow I should be receiving my first Christmas package...because for me, receiving office supplies is as good as it gets. I kid you not. I'm actually excited about the P-Touch label maker, and the fancy new transcriber I ordered...
Anyway, I'm settling just fine, and I am trying not to think too much about the fact that they have only hired me as a temp. Three months may not be enough time to make the honey that I need for a nice nest egg. Especially if I continue buying sharp, business-chic outfits. My stuff was soo last year.
Ambition High, Time Low
Nothing could have quite prepared me for the kind of schedule I am keeping now that I am working full time outside the home again.
I'm actually wondering how the heck I did it [prior to taking the year off].
All I know is that something is going to give. Most likely my sanity.
However, my job is good. I like my bosses [yes that was plural]. I am finally working in a company where they recognize the EA as an actual position within the company that only a certain qualified person can do.
That's nice.
I'm going to have to figure out how I am to squeeze school into my schedule, because now that I have an actual reason for late assignments [besides laziness], I am genuinely falling behind.
On other fronts, my son has decided to switch instruments. He will be playing the bassoon, instead of the flute. Yes, big change. However, I think he will enjoy it more, and that leaves me with a flute that I can practice on...when I get some time of course.
Ready Before Me
Today my three year old woke up before me. She was bright eyed and chipper in a way that I have not seen in a long time.
As I groggily made my way through to the bathroom, she asked me "What's wrong with your eyes?"
Which sounded more like: Wot wong wit yoo eeys?
I responded with an incoherent: I'm not awake yet child.
Her retort: I wanna see kids.
So, as you can see she is adjusting quite well to going to "school".
In fact, she was ready to leave before I was, and was a bit disappointed to find out that she would have to wait another 2 hours before Caleb was to take her there...it seems that she has been more ready than me all along.
Day One Done
My day started early with getting my daughter ready for school, and myself ready for work. The night before I was up until midnight finishing up paperwork and redrilling Caleb on what to do in the morning for the Snoog to go to preschool...that still didn't stop me from forgetting to give him the car seat.
My day was filled with orientation, acclimation, salutation after salutation. Soon after arriving home, it was dinner prep and serve, then off again to another meeting.
Home again at 9:30, then to the homework I go...
At least I am not behind on any of my assignments...yet.
My husband [Love HIM] just came back home...he went out for ice cream, and now has deposited a Coke float in front of my face.
I'm outta here.
Day one is done...only 4 to go. Thank goodness for short weeks, sweet hubbys, and Coke floats.
Sirens
September 11, 1992
Sirens woke me up. The sky was darker than normal in the early morning.
I could hear the wind pounding against our apartment walls. There was a mix of confusion. Keep the slatted window open or shut? I wasn't sure. We argued which was right. We opened them and the vertical blinds batted at us violently. We kept them shut. The wind was a scream that I couldn't ignore. We huddled nervously, holding hands, closing our eyes, at the center point of our tiny Hawaiian home wondering if the world around us was blowing away. Will we blow away as well?
The debris was the worst of our aftermath. It was everywhere. Our island didn't take the brunt of the storm. Kuai was decimated. The quiet after the storm was erupting with activity. The sounds of helicopters, emergency vehicles, and neighbors all working towards one purpose. Find those in need of help.
August 17, 1997
The sirens began at mid-day. I decided to go to work anyway. I had a class to teach. The roads were empty except for military police and the local authorities, and soon enough I was redirected back home. The wind was rocking my car, and I wasn't afraid. I half wished I could float away on one good gust and be done with it.
I arrived home, everyone was safe. The electricity was out, which meant no fans, no air conditioning in the unbearable Okinawan heat. We stayed cool by using ice cubes. That didn't last very long. We had stocked up on water and canned food, Iniki taught us well enough to not take too many chances.
Wait it out. For how long who can know?
I stayed out on the balcony for as long as I could stand the wind. It rocked me nearly off my feet, and then I thought better of it. Inside, the slatted windows were shut. No argument this time. We alternated reading books to the kids until they fell asleep, and then played card games.
This time, our home was made of thick concrete. I had every faith that we would still be standing after the winds died.
Looking out the window, the palms were bent in half. The sky was dark, the rain sliced through everything, and the wind screamed at us. A truck rolled down the street, but not on it's tires. Topple topple.
A few hours later Winnie decided to wreak havoc elsewhere. Zac and Abi were still sleeping, and the sky was a sickly blue green yellow.
Who's turn was it again?
It is at this point that I want to state that I recognize how extremely fortunate I have been to have experienced two tremendous storms in my life, without suffering losses. I know the sound of the screaming wind, I have not felt the brunt of it's full force. Prayers to those who have.
Blogging the Storm
I've been avoiding news coverage of Katrina by major networks, however I have been following this blog set up by two journalists who write for this paper and decided to ride out the storm.
Their account seems honest, and for the most part unbiased when it comes to the left or the right. Their photos provide credibility. Read at your own risk.
Pet Ownership
Pet ownership is darn expensive. However, extremely rewarding. Especially when said pets are doing their jobs.
Dog: Bark when someone comes to the door, be fuzzy, cute, playful and gentle otherwise.
Cat: Drive dog to distraction, play continuously, cuddle, purr, and pretend to be a ferocious tiger on crack when you get a hold of the cat nip.
So far so good.
Saturday I took Tangerine for her first vet visit, and Roxy for her yearly follow-up. All is well with my zoo.
Tangerine is a healthy and extremely active kitten, I think that he went as far as to say "troublemaker". Which is about right.
Roxy is healthy, but needs a teeth cleaning, which explains the death breath.
I also inquired about a medication for Tangerine called Ace Promazine. It's a medication that interacts with cat saliva to make the dander less reactive for people with allergies.
The vet gave me a sample of it that should last about 2 months, and the dosage will not cause any ill side affects for Tangerine regardless if it works or not. This should help to alleviate my [very mild] cat allergies, should they start up, and also make my home people friendly for all of our friends who have severe cat allergies.
I'm not very keen on medicating my pets; however, I don't want to drive my friends away. Hopefully, within a couple of weeks our home will breathable again. If not, then I'll take her off the medication and stock up on Benedryl.
Biloxi Blues
I lived in Biloxi for about 4 months. The bus ride to Biloxi was 36 hours of pure hell.
But I was 18 and striking out on my own...well actually I was 18 and running away from Michigan to get married to my highschool sweetheart who had joined the Air Force.
I remember some things about that time very clearly. Such as my first military movie theatre experience, and standing still and facing the American flag when the brass played Taps.
During those four months I got married [eloped], made some good friends [hey RED], bought a 69 Cutlass [drag raced], got into a car accident, and was chased down by a black sedan in a cemetary [the most terrifying experience of my life to date].
Come to think of it, I also hitchhiked for the first and last time,almost got hit by a train, and I swear I walked past a yard full of evil-possessed cats...the way that their eyes followed me...still gives me shivers.
Life in Biloxi was anything but boring.
I remember talking to someone who had been a young child and survived through hurricane Camille.
I wonder if 18 years from now a similar conversation will take place about Katrina. Somehow I don't doubt it.
Cutie Cut
Well, it took me a year...and here I am back where I started. Shorty hair. I'm not sure why I even bother torturing myself by trying to grow it out long. I like my short hairs. Of course, the upcoming job prompted a "new" look, something easy to manage and smart. Anyway, my wedding photos have me with long hair, that's good enough for me. Now back to real life.
Truth?
Considering all of the media coverage of Katrina's devastation...I wonder if anyone else has thought to consider this perspective...
We WATCH the aftermath of storm. The grief of the victims. Heck we saw on TV a woman in torment over her overheated and dehydrated baby. Why weren't the American people shown that same woman recieving help?!
I really am so fed up with the media coverage being on the negative slant that it is actually offensive to find that they would waste video footage on a woman in turmoil.
Put the damn camera down and give her some relief you heartless jerk. And if the camera person did help...why not bolster the rest of America's hope rather than fuel our fires?
Wouldn't it be a grand thing if journalists, who can get anywhere and go everywhere with a FREE PASS because they are journalists...would start HELPING people rather than just documenting their misery.
Now there's a thought.
I seriously wonder if our media coverage is the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth so help me God.
Denial Discontent Disgust
Yes, my posts have been frivolous as compared to what is going on in New Orleans and Biloxi. I should be writing something more important...but I haven't the words. I can't think of anything to say except what has already been said before. I am feeling utterly helpless, but not hopeless.
And to be honest, I haven't been glued to the T.V. to find out more of what is happening. I don't want to stare at others heartache and devastation like some rubbernecked accident junkie.
Maybe, I believe that the horror of it all will make us stronger as a nation rather than rip us apart in a fury of internal struggles and violence. Maybe I'd like for the bright shiny parts of human nature to emerge instead of the cruel violent parts. This is what I am praying for.
I'd like to see the media cover some of that instead. Sometimes I think that the newspapers and television networks want to keep the American people in a constant state of down and dirty discontent. Certainly there are good things happening as well? Through it all shouldn't we...
reach out and touch somebody's hand...
make this world a better place....
if you can...
All I know is when I picked up the newspaper today and was presented with the image of a crying woman standing near the devastation of where her home once was...I felt like my 'safe world' was crashing down as well. The same feeling I had September 11, 2001.
And as I drove home today, to my nice, safe, warm home...filled with water and food...I felt disgusted with myself for wanting more than I already have.
Passing Thought
I wonder if my vitamin intake will mess with my new employment drug screening. Hmmm...
Nice Quiet Evening at Home
After a pretty hectic day of running around I actually arrived home in time to start preparing a hearty Mexican dinner for our dinner guests. The band members had been camping for most of the festival run, so we offered them a dinner and opportunity to shower and do some of their laundry.
I was really looking forward to being able to sit down and relax, maybe be entertained by watching my husband jam with some other musicians.
I should have known by the way that the day had been going, while hectic, nothing was amiss, it was too good to be true. Everything was systematically taking place in a timely manner, which for me is a complete anomoly. I'm always late for something. It never occured to me to have a second thought about how 'well laid out' my hectic day had been.
I love my children, don't get me wrong...but they are so completely accident prone that during the one year stint where we didn't have health insurance, I was a basket case, more so than usual. And oddly enough most of their worst accidents are when we have guests, or when we are at someone else's place.
Zac, a T.V. fell on his head giving him a huge gash.
Abi, a T.V. fell on her fingers, breaking the tip off of her middle finger. [this one really freaked me out]
Now...with that said, I did know that Kimi was due for an accident, so it only makes sense that it would be when we have new dinner guests over...and most certainly when I am fully involved in the kitchen and not watching her like a hawk.
No, this time it did not involve the T.V. directly. She bumped into the entertainment center, and an iron incense burner fell on her head creating a very deep gash. I find it amazing that she would hurt herself with something so completely not related to cutting for how many times I have come downstairs and found that she has cut herself a piece of cake with my largest kitchen knife, a trail of cake crumbs from the kitchen to where she is sitting in the living room in front of the t.v. with frosting all over her face. I DO put the knives up high...she finds a way.
I'm not sure why I didn't freak out this time...maybe head wounds don't bother me as much as finger wounds...but I cleaned her up and stopped the bleeding within about 5 minutes. Then contemplated taking her to the hospital.
15 minutes and one white faced, nearly fainting Caleb later I was in the hospital emergency room with my little snoog, who was running around as though nothing had happened.
Caleb stayed home with our dinner guests and took over grilling up the chicken. Mostly because he hates hospitals, and Kimi's gash really disturbed him.
1 1/2 hours later, with Kimi's head glued together, I returned home...resumed cooking and had dinner on the table by 9:00, not the orgininally intended 7:00.
Afterwards, I served dessert, and baked some home made oatmeal chocolate chip cookies for the guys to take back with them.
After the cookies were made I was actually able to sit down and receive a bodhran lesson from Adrian. And found how how bad I really suck. But that's okay at least I know what I'm doing wrong now.
By 10:30, my body decided to settle into the couch a little more and relax, listen to the guys talk about music, and play the X Box. The next thing I knew I was awoken by a good-bye kiss to the forehead and Caleb was sending them away with their cookies and some more of the 'beach cake' I had made earlier. It was 1:00 AM and I missed out on the poker game.
Another day done. Typical.
Wiped
Today has been nonstop so far. By 2:50 I was in dire need of a nap. Then it hit me...my 3 year old doesn't nap.
She stopped napping a year ago..when I decided to be a stay at home mom.
So, for the past year [almost] she has been getting up at 8:00 and going non stop until 10:00 at night. with.no.break. You do not understand what that means for me....
So, that explains my grey hair, and my need to consume large amounts of caffeine. I get it now.
You can't imagine the amounts of energy that it requires to entertain a three year old all day long. So I'll not bore you. Suffice it to say that after today's realization, I am looking forward to placing her in the capable hands of people who are paid to structure and guide her day constructively as well as provide her fun in a warm loving environment. And deal with the fact that she won't take a nap.
I'll be sitting at my desk taking a vacation.
