Tag Archive: ramblings

Pet Peeves {GTT}

January 21, 2010 | about mommygeekology, featured | Tags: , , , ,
54 Spoke Up - Say Something

I believe that getting your bitch on is part of the human condition. That’s why I just couldn’t pass up this Girl Talk Thursday topic – Pet Peeves.

Here’s a short (ahem) list of mine:

Breathing Very Loudly: If you didn’t just participate in a foot race, I should not be able to hear you breathing from across the room. Stop it. Stop it now. I would rather see you passed out from lack of oxygen than hear you breathe like that even one. more. time.

Related: Breathing Very Loudly WHILE Eating: This is even worse than just Breathing Very Loudly. Unless you just hunted and killed your meal after nearly starving to death (without stopping to cook it, because that would have given you a chance to catch your damn breath), you need to stop.  So unless you are Breathing Very Loudly While Eating With Blood Dripping Down Your Chin, it’s unacceptable.

Almost Putting Things Away: If you got up off your fat, lazy ass long enough to pick up your glass and walk it over to the kitchen, don’t you dare put that next to the sink on the counter. You either put it in the dishwasher, or IN the sink. If the sink is so full of dirty dishes that you cannot fit it into the sink, then guess what? IT’S TIME TO DO SOME FUCKING DISHES ASSWIPE.

Related: Almost Putting Away: groceries, toys, toiletries, laundry, papers to be filed, etc etc. {yes, I am totally guilty of most of this. And it pisses me off when I do it, I don’t need you doing it too, ok buddy?}

Yawning Without Covering Your Mouth: This is not your annual physical. I am not your doctor, nor your dentist, nor your prey. Cover your damn mouth when you yawn, I can see all the way to your tonsils and it’s just indecent!

Arguing About “Over” or “Under” re: Toilet Paper: Who the FUCK cares? Seriously? Is your life SO MUNDANE?! {not YOU, of course. I can understand why YOU care.}

Nicknames When You Don’t Know Me: Don’t nickname me. You don’t know me. And if you continue to call me whatever stupid nickname you’ve chose, you never will. Possibly because you’ll spend the rest of your days in a coma.

Wiggling Your Toes Within My Line of Vision While I Watch TV: Yes I know this one is a little insane. But if you are sitting on the couch next to me, and your legs are crossed such that your foot is next to me, please do not wiggle your toes. It’s all I can see and it’s driving me fucking batty.

Breathing On Me: When you breathe on me it makes my soul shrivel up into a tiny, wrinkly, crushed version of it’s former self, and that allows me to do horrible things to you. Don’t breathe on me.

Related: Breathing On Me While I Am Trying To Sleep: I cannot sleep if you are facing me and if I can feel your breath on my face. It will keep me awake. Please turn the other way, I like to lay facing this side.

Exemptions: Breathing On Me While I Am Trying To Sleep If I Gave Birth To You: You are adorable. Breathe where ever you want. But stop kicking me, you little fucker, or I’ll shove you off the bed.

Not Calling When You Said You Would: I understand, life gets in the way. But if I expect you to call and then you don’t, my mind goes bad places and I start to panic and consider calling hospitals and patrolling the dark alleys to find your rotting corpse. So call me when you say you will, OKAY?! ::crazy eyes::

Catty Behavior: Everyone hates high school for a reason. It sucked, everyone acted immature and petty, and you weren’t as cool as you wanted to be. Yes, I understand that the blogosphere brings up all those emotions that you repressed after you got to college because you wanted to be more adult. I don’t care. Repress them again, go to therapy, whatever.  Just stop sniping at each other, ok? We’re all human, we all fuck up, we all have our own issues. We get attitudes, we make rude comments… Do Unto Others, y’all. Just be nice.

Touching My Eyebrows: Don’t touch my eyebrows. It’s a thing with me. And don’t touch YOUR eyebrows while I’m looking. That’s a thing with me, too.

——–

Runners up: judging my list of pet peeves, reading over my shoulder, not saying please and thank you, leaving your shopping cart in the middle of the grocery store which makes me wonder whether I can take it or whether you’ve left it there for a reason, leaving your shopping cart in the middle of the parking lot so I hit it when it’s dark and scratch my car, leaving your shopping cart in the parking lot in an open space which means that a) I can’t park there or b) I can’t pull through YOU WHORE, obvious twitter ads filling up my twitter stream all the time don’t you ever tweet ANYTHING else?, following me on twitter and then not accepting my follow back request because you are protected, MySpace just as a general rule, people who want to purchase something from me on Craigslist as a general rule, overuse of hashtags, using IM/Twitter speak in a real conversation (i.e. SAYING “lol”)

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Mind dump.

January 20, 2010 | General, about mommygeekology, featured | Tags: , , , ,
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This post is exactly what you think it is. Brace yourselves.

  • Hubby is away until Thursday night. He’s in Florida until then. In fact ,as we speak, he is attending his Uncle Frank’s funeral. Not what we expected to be doing this week… apparently he had high blood pressure. No one knew, he hadn’t been treated for it. Please, folks – go for a yearly checkup with your doctor.  Meanwhile, I’m single parenting it until he gets back.. but not really. Uncle J (who is not really an uncle, but DaddyGeek’s best friend from childhood, who moved here last year and who is also Geeklet’s Godfather) has been a huge help. I mean, above and beyond. Seriously. He shoveled a space for my car at the apartment complex. Just for us. He helps with the kids, he helps get Geeklet to sleep and puts up with the incessant questioning and requests by Cupcake. He cleaned my kitchen. He cleared the snow off of our second car, which we aren’t even using this week, just so we didn’t have to do it later. He takes the trash out. He’s been awesome. Last night my mother did a whole judgy-thing about why he was there helping… apparently I’m not allowed to have help? I don’t know. Whatever – he’s been awesome, she can keep her opinion to herself. Things could have been far less awesome this week. For example, I could have had to deal with my massive head cold, the girls’ massive head colds, plus Cupcake’s puking on Sunday night 4 hours after DaddyGeek’s plane took off all by myself. But I didn’t. Mother can judge away, but the kids are doing better for J being around.
  • Work. Work work work. There is a lot of it and I am barely keeping my eyes open after the kids go to sleep, so projects have been moving more slowly than I’d like. Thankfully I punched out a lot of work last night and today, so I’m nearly back on track. I don’t see it letting up this month at all. Oh, PS — did you know January is ALMOST OVER?!
  • I got a new planner. It’s a GTD planner, and I love it, and it’s helping me be organized, and I love love love it. Seriously. Love. It. I’m usually a digital gal but I truly enjoy literally penciling something in. Or, penning it in. I hate pencils. It’s a texture thing.
  • I am behind on blog reading, and I feel sorely out of the loop. It’s making me cranky. I have over 350 unread posts that I can’t get to. Also, my fishes, farm, deserted island, restaurant, cafe, zoo and pet on Facebook are feeling neglected. (lol)
  • Taxes soon. I do taxes for my whole family (incl. brother, mother, sister, us) and I am not looking forward to all. those. fucking. numbers. I hate numbers. Speaking of taxes, next years taxes are going to be all sorts of borked. Also I have to start setting aside money for estimated tax payments. Not fun, y’all!
  • I have about 4 posts planned in my head about songs that are meaningful to me, but I never get around to writing them.. I really should, because they are cluttering things up. Do you care about songs?
  • I’m pissed at Mother Nature for starting 2010 off with the Haiti Earthquake. I’m pissed there isn’t more I can do.
  • I finally decided I really do need to stop eating such disgusting food and do something about my weight, and my health, and my general fitness. I ate four donuts yesterday morning. FOUR. And another today, even though it was stale. Not good. So for lunch I had a Lean Pocket. It was hardly satisfying.. though could have been worse. I wanted to eat two. I ate one. Now if I can just keep that up, I can lose the baby weight, which is no longer baby weight, and is actually pastry weight, but saying pastry weight doesn’t sound as legit so baby weight it is.
  • Speaking of babies, I don’t have any anymore. I have two toddlers. Geeklet is 14mos now and is walking and running and climbing and doing things she shouldn’t do, and saying things like “ceiling” and “nana” and “daddy” and “yes” and she thinks it is funny, oh so funny, when you shake your head yes or no at her. She also loves: spinning, trying to eat lightbulbs, the TV clicker, anything that is electronic that she isn’t allowed to have, mashing the keyboard. Cupcake is 3.5 and is amazing. She’s getting ready to be rid of her bedtime bottle (no judging you whore) and we are so close to really getting somewhere with this potty training (again with the lack of judging!) and bedtimes have been better on a whole. She is saying adorable things, and her favorite joke right now is to substitute the word “underwear” anywhere in a sentence unexpectedly to make you laugh. She also loves jumping around, playing tag with herself, saying grown-up things like “You can say that again!” and “Oh brother!” and she knows how to work the DVD player. She also DM’d @chibijeebs for me the other day, which was oh so sweet of her. (lol)

Since I can’t get over to your blogs/twitter/whatever why don’t you tell me in the comments what’s up with you?

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Not a Girl, Not Yet a Woman

January 6, 2010 | about mommygeekology, featured, philosophy | Tags: , , ,
7 Spoke Up - Say Something

britney-spearsI identify strongly with Britney Spears. Not in a show-my-hoochie-cuz-I-don’t-wear-panties way, or a crazy-behavior-for-shock-value way. I identify with her as a singer, a performer, a young girl, who is desperately trying to find her way in this world. I followed, and still follow, news stories about her closely. I read the gossip mags looking for a shred of truth, I listen to the lyrics of her songs, I buy her albums and I wonder, often, what it would be like to live her life.

Let’s lay it out in black & white:

Similarities:

  • We are both in our late 20s – in fact, we’re about a year apart in age
  • We are both singers (though, admittedly, she is more of a performer than songstress)
  • We are both dancers (though, admittedly, I haven’t danced in years and I am nowhere near as good)
  • We both married early
  • We both have two children (hers boys, mine girls) around the same ages
  • We both have divorced parents
  • We both gained a little weight after having kids (Gasp, normal!)
  • We both have our belly buttons pierced

Differences:

  • Clearly, I am not a celebrity, and therefore, I don’t have the stress (and yes, fun) that comes with that
  • I’m not divorced
  • My mother or father are not acting as conservator of my affairs, my life
  • I haven’t been married more than once
  • No one has taken my children from me
  • I haven’t been forcibly hospitalized
  • She had a personal trainer to help her lose weight and look HAWT again

The differences seem so clear until I look more closely. What is that list, really, except a list of chance? The lines get blurred when I wonder if I were somehow catapulted to stardom at a young age, who is to say that I wouldn’t eventually crumble under the pressure, using my behavior and words to desperately reach out for help from someone, anyone? Who can say that I wouldn’t go a little bit crazy from untreated depression? I’ve been there, depressed, horribly depressed. My family helped me. What if my family weren’t so aware of my depression? What if I were surrounded by an environment where it was not OK to be depressed, to have issues, to need help? What if?

When I look at stories of her from two, three years ago or more, I just see a scared little girl. I see someone screaming for help and I see the world capitalizing on it, ignoring the real message, judging. I want to scream at them – what if it was your friend? Your daughter? Your mother? Would you just sit back and watch or would you do something?

I look at her now and I see someone who, having received the help she needed, has gotten back on track. Who has accomplished more in her young life than I will likely ever accomplish. Who has gone through hell and back and who will hopefully be a better person for that experience. I see someone who needed family and friends to lean on.

That’s not so different than I. That’s not so different than any of us.

I’m sure it’s not just me. Who do you identify with?

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Bitter is the New Black*

January 5, 2010 | about mommygeekology, featured | Tags: , , , , , , , , ,
22 Spoke Up - Say Something

I’ve spent a lot of time this past year feeling bitter. I’m tired of the feeling. The aching, gnawing, acidic feeling in my stomach is not welcome in 2010. I’ve spent too much time consumed by bitter, angry thoughts; writing magnificently angry and righteous emails and letters to “friends” and family who have burned me, hurt me.

Just a few weeks ago, I was in the bathroom in the morning, getting ready for work. I was using a round brush to pull my hair back into a ponytail, my typical hairstyle of choice (though with a new haircut, we hope that will change).  The bottom layer of my hair is shorter than the rest, from a previous haircut, and it’s hard to get into the ponytail. That day I brushed it down and let it be a little messy. I thought about my friend Sarah K.

Sarah wore ponytails a lot. Except her hair was so short that half of it would fall out the bottom, like mine. I’ve always called her my best friend. Looking back I don’t know why. She wasn’t my best friend. She wasn’t even a good friend. I just wanted her to be my best friend. We’d been best friends a long time ago. Grammar school. Middle school. We were inseparable. We had so much fun … they called us Gasoline & Matches, we were always getting into trouble. We loved every minute of it.

We once stopped riding our bikes near the front of my house and started a fist fight with each other to see who would win.

She once ate so many brownies and popcorn that she couldn’t even remember how much she’d eaten. Then she puked it up everywhere.

We used to sit on the sloping roof overhang outside her bedroom window and wait for the cops to see us and call her parents.

Her room was painted blue. Her middle name is Elaine. I always thought she was so cool. She’s great with children. I always thought she’d be great with my children. And the two times she saw them? She was. She was great with them. {oh god I’m going to cry. This is ridiculous}

I loved her very much, but she spent her entire life forgetting about me.

As I stood there in front of the mirror, tears springing suddenly to my eyes, I felt angry. I felt so angry that I had tried for years, reaching out to her, emailing her, calling her, finding her, reminding her that I was here, I wanted to be her friend. Catching one lunch, one dinner, one coffee every 10-12mos. I believed her when she said she wanted to hang out more. She wanted to see me more. She wanted to talk more. Email more. Share more. Be there for me more.I fell for it last year again, after she came home from a trip to Israel. She blogged about it, and I read every entry. {I am so pathetic}

She started blowing me off between Middle School and High School. She stopped being a tomboy and figured out how to be a girl. She hung out with a faster crowd and she did things I wouldn’t do. She would come back to me every so often and ask for my help. Boyfriend trouble, family trouble, job trouble, house trouble. She wanted my help fixing it. I fixed it and she went off, waving goodbye gaily, already forgetting what I’d done for her. Every time.

Senior year, at prom, she was drunk. She found me in the bathroom. She told me I was the best friend she’d ever had. She told me that she never appreciated how I always put her back together. She told me she wished she had spent more time with me, and listened to me when I told her that doing E at 14 was a bad idea. That dating drug dealers was a bad idea. That smoking pot was a bad idea. That coming to the senior prom drunk was a Bad Idea.

I knew she was drunk but I felt vilified. I felt recognized. I felt important.

We graduated and I saw her about once a year. Once each time I was pregnant. Once after Cupcake was born. Once after Geeklet was born, which was the last time I saw her.  I called her and left her a voicemail a few months later. Nothing. A few weeks after that I called and caught her – but she was busy. She said she’d call me in a few days. Nothing. I sent her an email. Nothing.

I sent another email and told her I wouldn’t be calling anymore. That I hoped she was having a good time, but that I couldn’t put any more energy into a relationship she wasn’t willing to put effort into as well. I needed some closure.

She responded and said she couldn’t deal with a “friend break up” right now because her boyfriend had dumped her. She’d call me in a few days.

Say it with me, people! Nothing.

I emailed her again, against the wisdom that is Twitter. I had too much history with her. I needed to get some closure. I told her I wasn’t surprised she hadn’t called – that was exactly why I couldn’t play this pretend friendship game anymore. I wished her happy holidays, a good new year, and signed off. She responded and said she was sorry that I didn’t think she was a good friend, then made a bunch of excuses.

I told her I was sorry too. That was the end. I cried for a long time. I mourned the death of a friendship that wasn’t even a good friendship. I was bitter about how long I’d pursued this friendship to end it like this. I’ve felt angry and bitter many times since then. The moment in the mirror, hair halfway to a ponytail, was just one. It hits me randomly in the car, or at work, and I wonder why she was so dismissive of me. Why I wasn’t important to her when she was so important to me. She was right, it was a friend-break-up.

I’m still sad and angry and bitter about it, but I don’t want to be this way. It’s a waste of energy.  A waste of tears, which are rolling down my face right now to beat the band and I can’t stop them. It’s a waste, such a waste.

Here comes my 2010 resolution: I don’t want to waste time on this, or any other useless, bitter, ridiculous situation this year. I want to try and accept things for what they are and if I don’t like it, I don’t like it. Bitterness won’t help me. I need to pick up and move on and stop being so angry, so bitter, particularly about lost friendships. I’ve gained so many new friends in 2009. Sure, only one lives within driving distance. Most I’ll probably never meet face to face. I’m of the iGeneration, I should thrive on this, these computer-screen/social-media/internet community friendships and I DO. Sometimes it’s not enough for me, but I can’t be angry about it. I can’t be bitter. If I want more friends I need to find a way to go out and get them.

So. 2010. Less bitterness. More friends.

Let’s go.

—-

* Title inspired by the book I just finished reading, Bitter is the New Black, by Jen Lancaster. It’s a light, funny read that is autobiographical, which makes it even funnier, and I really enjoyed it. Laughed out loud quite a bit, which is relatively unusual for me (I read books and watch movies with hardly any emotion on my face, causing people to think I am a) bored b)angry or c)asleep with my eyes open).  If it were summer I’d say it’s a good beach read, but since it’s winter I’ll say it’s a good read for when you need something relatively mindless and uncomplicated after a very long and complicated day. I have a lot of those, which is why I love Sophie Kinsella so much.


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Looking back and diving in.

January 4, 2010 | about mommygeekology, featured, making memories | Tags: , , , , ,
7 Spoke Up - Say Something

This is the token end-of-year post. I’m not usually one for the token-whatever post, I read too many other great Christmas, Thanksgiving, Birthday, New Year’s, etc posts.. but I wanted to talk about this year because it’s been a big year for me.

Firsts in 2009

Last year was a year of many firsts for me. I branched out and did things I’ve never done before. I had a lot of great experiences. I learned a lot. I fell in love with this community more than ever. I prayed more than I’ve prayed in my life. A few of the highlights:

  1. I got off Blogger and decided to take blogging, and my internet community, seriously. I recognized and tried to accept that my friendships are scattered across the country, and that not having local friends doesn’t make me a loser behind a computer screen.
  2. I flew in a plane, by myself, to Chicago, IL, adding one more state to my small, small list of travels. I attended BlogHer with some of my favorite people and realized that while I was never shy in high school, being around so many women that I admired and respected caused me to clam up and sit on the sidelines. Regardless, I had a blast and got more than a few thrills when people I loved and admired actually recognized my name.
  3. I walked away from a company I loved because it was clear they were going under. They’re still hanging on, but barely. I’m glad I made the move – I found a stable job at a stable company that is growing, and I get to commute with and work alongside my husband every day. Our relationship has grown and deepened and strengthened as a result. I’ll be sad when this era ends.
  4. I figured out how to handle a 2 year old just in time for my little Cupcake to turn 3. Then I realized I knew nothing about parenting and that I’d never keep up. Then I realized that seems to be the same thing everyone is doing, and that my mother holds me to unrealistic standards. She’s been doing this for over 25 years. I learned to give myself a break even if she won’t. Towards the end of the year I even learned to stand up for some of my parenting decisions. I told her that if she wanted the kids dressed in matching, adorable outfits every day, she would have to do it, because in the grand scheme of life? Cute clothes for the kids, or even outfits that match, are not my priority. If the kids are relatively clean, happy, and well fed I consider that a win, and you won’t change my mind.
  5. I started, then stopped, then started college again, as a full-time online student taking condensed classes to get a little further along in that BA in Education. I’m struggling to find time and balance it all, but I’m trucking along, and not just because I don’t feel like making student loan payments.
  6. I grieved, truly grieved, the death of several children that I’ve never met.  I learned, again, that life is not fair. I realized how strongly social media and the internet community here affects my life. I cried for days. I still cry. I still grieve for those lost lives. I pray for their families. I’ve prayed more this year than I’ve prayed in my entire life.
  7. I started my own small business, taking on new clients and old friends alike who are in need of blog design, help moving from Blogger or Wordpress.com to self-hosted Wordpress, and graphic design elements like headers and buttons. I learned how to value my work and respect myself. I created things that I am so damn proud of. I helped pay for our Christmas this year with that extra money, and nothing feels so good as doing something you love and knowing you’ve helped your family by doing it.
  8. I went to therapy.
  9. I stopped going to therapy.
  10. I became addicted to Starbucks.

Regrets in 2009

It’s fashionable today to say that we have no regrets and I’ve been known to say it myself. I lied. I have regrets, I have loads of regrets. I wish I didn’t, because that would mean that I’ve lived my life perfectly. I’ve made mistakes and I wish I hadn’t, regardless of how I’ve grown or changed as a person as a result of them… if I hadn’t made them in the first place maybe it would mean I didn’t have a flaw or weakness to overcome in the first place. I don’t know. What I do know is that I have regrets, and rather than shrug them off, I want and need to acknowledge them and remind myself that I am fallible. I make mistakes. I hurt people. I need to own that.

  1. I have made mistakes with my children. Every day. I yell too much. I use an angry tone. I don’t spend enough time just playing with them. I am not always fair. I am not always consistent. I expect too much. I have coddled the baby and expected too much of Big Sister. I forget that Big Sister is still a Little Girl and needs to be treated like a Little Girl not a Small Adult.
  2. I have accidentally (and on purpose) ignored friends and family. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.
  3. I have lied to my mother. I have screamed at my husband for nothing in the middle of sleepless nights. I have been a bitch many times.
  4. I have tried to make it all about ME. I have been selfish. I have been uncaring. I have said cruel things.
  5. I have held grudges.
  6. I didn’t even try to lose weight. I bitch about my body but I didn’t even try. I was a hypocrite.

It’s been a long hard year. I’m ready to put it aside. I’m ready to go forth into a new decade and say What’s UP bitches?! I’m HERE! I’m ready to make an impact. I’m ready to be the best mother I’ve ever been. I’m ready for, 2010. I’m ready.


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A Whole New Me

December 29, 2009 | about mommygeekology, featured | Tags: , , ,
12 Spoke Up - Say Something

On Sunday, I went to get my hair professionally cut and colored. I have never had my hair professionally colored (though the box-color aisle in the CVS and I are very familiar with each other) and I simply love to get it cut.  The result?

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It’s actually quite a bit more red than I can seem to capture in a photo, which makes the black bands near the front and on the sides stand out a bit more. I love it. And the A-line cut she gave me is sexy and sassy and delightful. I tipped her well and I’ll be back to maintain this… I feel like a completely different person.

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I feel chicer. Sexier. More intelligent. I feel put together.

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I feel good. I want to keep that feeling and bottle it up, because I know there will be a time that I don’t feel good and I’ll want this back. For now, though … for now I’m trying to bask in the glory and attention that a new haircut brings.

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Burnout

December 18, 2009 | about mommygeekology, featured | Tags: , , , , , , , ,
9 Spoke Up - Say Something

I am burning out. I need to find a balance between home, school, work, other work, kids, cleaning, laundry, relaxation. I can’t find it right now. I can’t find it right now, and I am burning out.

Three times in the past two weeks, I’ve just gone straight to bed as soon as the kids were asleep. Note: that’s unlike me. I like to stay up and do a little something. The problem is that it’s not that I didn’t have anything to do. I have plenty to do, too much to do, and I keep taking on projects.  I am hooking a fucking rug as a Christmas present for chrissakes. WHO THE FUCK HAS TIME FOR THAT?!

Part of it is the holidays. Part of it is just the regular ebb and flow of life.

Regardless, I still need to find balance. I need to stop jerking around to each part of my life, trying desperately to complete a task before I am pulled away again. I should be doing other things than blogging right now but I’m exploding. I need to get some of this out.

I need to breathe. I don’t feel like I have time to breathe. And when I find time, I don’t feel like I have the energy.

How do you do it? How do you balance? What do you have going on in your life? Write me a book in the comments, I don’t care. I want it. I need to know how you’re managing. Or not managing. I don’t want to be alone in this struggle.

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A List of Sorts

November 25, 2009 | about mommygeekology | Tags: , , ,
10 Spoke Up - Say Something
Oh, Hai.

Oh, Hai.

  1. My desk is a total mess, both at home and at work. It makes it more difficult to work, but I can’t find time to clean it until I get A, B and C finished.
  2. I hate the way there are HUGE breaks in the middle of a season of TV. Just show me the whole damn thing already. I’m a stressed out mother/daughter/employee/student. I need something to relax to at the end of the night.
  3. I am considering being up very early to go grab some Black Friday deals, but I know the most effective way to do that is to have a list of what to buy. And I have no idea.
  4. I keep forgetting simple things, and it’s driving me nuts. It’s also driving those around me nuts. I am scattered.
  5. I am behind on my Google Reader and I feel like I’m missing out on something, but I never forget to check Hope4Peyton for news of Anissa. #prayersforanissa
  6. I love the new designs here and at Rent a Geek Mom. Am seriously considering releasing a free template for Wordpress, maybe also adapted for Blogger. See every single bullet above. I am obviously biting off more than I can chew.
  7. When I choke on everything I”ve bitten of/committed to, will you give me the heimlich?
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Yearning.

November 10, 2009 | about mommygeekology | Tags: , , , ,
13 Spoke Up - Say Something

I am filled with yearning.

I have always enjoyed my time commuting. First, it was just 10 minutes in the morning and 20 minutes in the afternoon to and from high school (Traffic on the way back, all the seniors leaving the school at once. That school parking lot was always crazy jammed up). I drove around town in my little red car feeling young and free and – oh, wait, no, I was in high school. I felt angsty and angry and frustrated. But when I turned on the radio and sang to my favorite songs, everything else seemed to slip away. It was a small moment of peace.

Then college. I was still living at home, commuting to a state school about 40 minutes away according to Google Maps, but about 15 minutes away if I caught traffic at the right time and sped up RT3 like Hell on Wheels. I did that every morning. I listened to music, any music – Reba McIntire, Martina McBride, Joss Stone, Dashboard Confessional, Dispatch, Incubus, Staind – anything I could sing along to. I was a music student. I felt it was my right. I cried when I hit a pothole so bad my radio fell out of my dashboard because it meant I had nothing to sing along to.

Then a real job, and a baby. I drove slower, the music was softer. I stopped singing for a while. I don’t know why. You’d think, that with music being such a strong influence in my life, being a music student at a local college – you’d think I’d sing my baby to sleep every night.  I didn’t. I felt embaressed. I feel stupid about it now. I wish I’d sung to her. I drove my baby to my mother’s every day and then went off to work. I sang loudly on my way to work after dropping Cupcake off. Those were some of the best parts of my days. A chance to forget everything that bothered me.

Now another real job, and two babies. I still don’t sing to them every night, but sometimes I’ll hum a little tune. Now I’ll sing along to Backyardigans and Phineas and Ferb, and Cupcake asks me to sing the songs that are on the radio, even the ones I don’t know. She wants me to sing so that she can sing with me. She wants to follow my lead.  I am commuting with my husband now, so I don’t sing as loudly. I don’t sing as often. I love going to the store alone because it means a chance to sing, unprofessionally, improperly, just pure emotion. Just sing.

I am filled with yearning.

I want to be on a stage again. I still remember playing Meg in Damn Yankees in high school. It was such a rush. I remember singing during the Spring Sing event, a solo during a choir concert. I remember performing in college. I remember feeling important, sparkly, talented. I remember dancing and singing and delivering lines, my body seemed so light. I felt electrified. I remember blood pounding in my ears at the curtain close. I remember taking a bow. I remember dancing and screaming and celebrating as soon as that curtain hit the stage again, the sound of applause almost distant beyond the congratulatory calls and whistles of my fellow castmembers.

I am filled with yearning.


Say Something

#FAIL (alternatively titled: I am a Doofus sometimes)

October 19, 2009 | about mommygeekology, making memories | Tags: , , , ,
27 Spoke Up - Say Something

It came up on Twitter yesterday, thanks to my darling husband and dear friend, that I can sometimes be a teensy weensy bit foolish. A doofus. A total #fail whale. I promised I’d blog about it because, well, it’s funny, and if I can’t laugh at myself then what can I laugh at?

The Toe Incident

Let me preface this  story by saying that I have a horrible fear of all things creepy crawly. I can’t help it.  I jump, I scream, I freak. My husband believes he might die in a car crash with me one day if I see a spider in the car because I’ll jerk the wheel into oncoming traffic. Our headline will read “Two Killed in Tragic(ally Funny) Car Crash – Spider in Custody for Involuntary Manslaughter.”

Right.

I don’t remember what day it was, or even what year it was. Suffice to say it was at least 6-7 years ago. I believe I was still living at home. (My memory is terrible, in fact it really bothers me that I can’t remember squat, so the fact that I remember THIS much is a damn miracle) My family (mother, sister, brother) usually congregate in the kitchen; it was almost literally the center of our home growing up. It was a small eat-in kitchen but it had a table and enough chairs for all of us. We would sit, and sometimes we would talk and read magazines and gossip, my mother, my sister and I.  Those were some of my favorite times.

One such day, we sat ’round the table just as we normally do. My sister to my left, my mother to my right. The table was likely stacked with mail, magazines and discarded jackets and the like. We each probably had a Diet Coke to sip as we chatted. I sat on the chairs that my mother has recovered countless times (even adult children make big messes) with one foot crossed underneath me and one leg facing forward. I still sit this way often. My feet were bare – a trait inherited from my mother. We love bare feet in our family.

We sat and talked, and it may be that we discussed creepy crawly things and I was on edge. It may be that we were talking about recent TV episodes and I had no reason to be jumpy. However the conversation fell out, I was listening to the gossip when I spied something out of the corner of my left eye.

Me, in my head: OH SHIT. IT’S A BUG.
Me, out loud: [terrified screaming as I nearly leap out of my seat and bash my head on the ceiling cartoon-style]

My sister and my mother are also squeamish – my sister even moreso – and they asked with worried voices, panic creeping in at the edges: “What? What is it?”

Me:  Oh. It was just my toe.

At this point I realize that I should have just said it was a spider, because the guffaws, hoots and chuckles coming from either side of me were enough to make me realize I would never, ever live this down. I was almost right. I might have lived it down if it ended there.

Not even five minutes later, I see something out of the corner of my eye:

Me, in my head: OH SHIT. IT’S A BUG.
Me, out loud: [terrified screaming as I nearly leap out of my seat and bash my head on the ceiling cartoon-style]
Me: Oh. It was just my toe. Again.

I expect my urn to have some sort of witty verse – maybe a haiku? – about how I scared myself with my toe. Twice. My own damn toe. TWICE. In the span of five minutes. TWICE.

The Car Incident

Stop rubbing your hands in glee, I can see you. No, I did not crash the car as a result of a spider. This is something entirely different. And, no, this is not the story of the time that I hit a snowplow with my car hard enough to break the plow off of the truck. In May. In New England. (i.e. No Snow.)

A few weeks ago I realized I forgot something in the back of the car. We have a Mazda 5, which is like a Soccer Mom Minivan Lite or something.  It fits our family well. I loved this car until it attacked me completely unprovoked. Now, I have to say my feelings are mixed. If my little Mazda 5 could speak, she’d probably remind me that we hurt the ones we love. I’d probably tell her she’s a bitch. But that’s neither here nor there.

To the point.

I went to the back of the car and opened up the hatch-back trunk. It’s a pretty tall hatch back and the way it’s designed it swings way out, but I’m a smart gal, so I know that I need to step back in order for it to keep from clipping me. I successfully sidestep the Indiana-Jones style obstacle and grab whatever I need out of the back. I step back, reach up, and pull down the trunk using the nifty little handle, but I make a critical mistake; in my rush to get back inside (it’s a bit rainy out) I pull it down too quickly and fail to evade the deadly downward path of the door.

Scrrrraaaape.

The door makes contact with the bridge of my nose, scrapes my glasses off my face and continues further down to the tip of my nose until I stumble back in a muddle of pain and hurt feelings. I thought you loved me! I hiss, and bend to pick up my glasses. They’ve landed lens-down on the pavement. They are badly scratched. You whore! I’m angry. My nose is throbbing. I wipe off my glasses but I am too distracted by the huge scratch right in front of my right eye to see clearly.

And that, my friends, is why I need new glasses.  As promised, Holly – a diagram, complete with stick figures:

wounded by my car

As you see by the above picture, entered into Evidence on 10/19/2009, I was brutally attacked by my car. I’m pretty sure this means my insurance company needs to pay for my new glasses. And the eye exam. And maybe some contacts. And probably a pair of prescription sunglasses too. And emotional distress.

So. I dare you to beat that. That’s right bitches – gauntlet down.

Say Something
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