the fine print.

Competent? That's a stretch.

purge.

So has anyone else had a day where they are looking for a specific shirt to wear and can't find it? So they tear through their closets and drawers with no luck. So that leads them to the spare room where ALL the cloths from like, the last 10 years are stored in clear plastic bins, to look. And after about the 8th bin you realize that, hey, like none of your old clothes actually, erm, fit you. So you start making piles of "will fit in soon after new dedication to eating right and exercising", "totally out of style anyways" and "not a chance in hell ". Then you come across the shirt you were wearing the night your Spouse first hit on you and you could just cry because you couldn't even hope to get it over your head now and dang you used to look so HOT what were you complaining about all those years ago?? The toddler whose birth process single handedly (yeah I don't care if its a word or not take that Scrabble) destroyed any hope you ever had of fitting into those (you know the ones) jeans again is having a field day with all these piles so you start to tear up a bit at the muffin top that you hate even though its not so much a muffin top as a layer cake but you have to laugh at the same time because the kid is so freaking cute and was worth it after all. But my God the CLOTHES that DON'T FIT that you need to part with but want to keep as a reminder not to eat that Geneva cookie which will only increase your layers. Then the whole thing ends brutally with you just shoving it all into black trash bags and throwing them into the garage because you need to get on the phone with Weight Watchers and you are running out of time in the day? Oh and you never find the freaking shirt that started it in the first place and where the freak is it anyways because you know that would fit.

No?

Yeah..me neither.

its not me its you.

I went to the movies the other night with a couple of my girlfriends.


The theater we went to was one from my younger years; top of the line circa 1992.


The last time I was there was the winter of 2005 when I watched a Gummi bear travel across Middle Earth.


When I took my seat I was shocked at how, erm, small it seemed. I wondered...had they made the seats smaller or had my ass just become that much bigger....


At the end of the show the lights came on and I absorbed my dated surroundings. Examining the seats, I rationalized and justified.


It was the seats fault. It had to be.


Cause' you know...it couldn't possibly be my ass.

phenomenal cosmic power.

I don't think I've ever truly expressed how awful life was with my desktop. I don't think I ever really knew; you know? Because if you don't know how the other half lives then you don't really know what you're missing.

With my desktop, everyday I felt like this...

But now? Now I am joyous beyond words! There is a song in my heart and aching in my wrists music from my fingers as they go tap tap tap on my brand new baby.

I have power. Power that allows me to load never before seen web pages, open email attachments like a normal person and play an unhealthy amount of World of Warcraft finally upload pictures of my kid again.

All at the same time! Can I get a squeee-da-lee-do?

Because every day this little, yet deceivingly heavy, piece of technology makes me feel like this...

Zippity freakin do da!

....oh and check the pants out...with the Alice in Wonderland shirt? Too freakin much!

wordless wednesday

how it begins.

I originally wrote this post last July on a pity party day. I never published it because at the time, it was for me. Today, I feel the need to make it yours.

I don't remember the name of my 3rd grade teacher. Or the kids in my class. I don't really remember my classrooms or my bus stop.

But what I do remember was my best friend in the world, Heather, who lived two doors down. She was blond and beautiful and every one loved her. She had a queen size bed and a chocolate poodle named Coco. She had a piano and her mother let her eat spray cheese.

My mother scoffed at such requests. I thought I was neglected. No poodle! No over sized bed! NO CHEESE??

Heather and I used to collect gypsy moth caterpillars and make "homes" for them in her sandbox. We would crawl into the thicket in the woods and watch the sun filter through the leaves. We would put her Holly Hobbie dolls into her play baby carriage and walk them around on her drive way.


Heather was always the mommy and I was always the baby sitter. She said it had to be that way beacause she was older.

I have no memories of Heather ever being at my house.

One of my only young childhood school memories is from Kindergarten. I remember hiding underneath a table with my fingers plugging my ears. I remember belting out "The Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow" to drown out the teasing chants of my fellow classmates. I remember Heather leading the pack. I have foggy recollections of sitting alone at recess while the other kids, following Heather, played "keep away" from me.

I never told my mother and I always went to Heather's house after school to play.


I clearly remember being in her basement with her puppy. I picked him up and spun really fast in a circle. When I put the dog down it wavered while walking. I felt awful. I still do. My adult self knows why I did it, but still I can not reconcile myself with it, to me it was cruel even then. I feel it speaks of my character but at the time I felt trapped inside myself with my feelings and I had no one to talk to.


I didn't know I was supposed to talk to someone. I thought I was supposed to just feel that way. That was how things were.



Heather moved that year. I only saw her once after. I went to her new house to play. I remember her new room and her things. I remember sitting in the back of her fathers car with her singing Johnny 'B' Goode. She made fun of me because I didn't know all of the words and told me I couldn't sing with her anymore.


My mother always said "I was delightful until I entered school". She thought it was the structure, she thought it was the curriculum. She said maybe I was bored, maybe I needed something more tailor made to the way my mind worked.


I was sent to private school in the 4th grade. My problems with other kids, teachers and discipline continued until I was in high school.


Had I been raised in today's society I believe I would have been 'labeled' and most likely medicated.



I've never really talked about this to anyone. I certainly have never breathed a word to anyone about the puppy. It shames me.


I am terrified for my daughter. I am so afraid of what her future may hold for her. The cruelty of children. The harsh and cold things that mold us into who we are just as much as the beautiful things. I see her compliance, her patience and how she yields to other babies and I'm afraid for her; she is so timid.


This story is only the beginning. For all of the wonder my childhood held there were dark secrets that I never speak of. Memories deep inside. I know the ugliness that can exist for a little girl and I have a fierce need to protect mine.


I just don't know how.

stimulus.

Spouse and I are doing our part to stimulate the economy.

We are buying new couches. (Totally hated the denim ones. Its amazing how things look more comfortable on the internet then in real life). As a direct result of the new couch purchase (still to be made) we are rearranging our entire house. I assure you before/after pictures will follow.

I bought new bras! Of the non-nursing variety!! I can not express how thrilling it is to lean over to pick up a squirming tantrum throwing toddler something and not have my bra pop open....and oh the comfort of having my boobs reside somewhere above my elbows!

And the best part of stimulating the economy?

This:

This baby replaces my 2001 desktop with 0% capacity. So bad that I can't even update the virus protection, I have to wait 20 minutes for a website to load and if I win a game of Scrabble the whole system crashes.

And I win a lot.

8 more days until delivery.....