It’s now November 1st, and I am seriously thinking about holiday decorations. Last year we started early. This year we’re going to start early. I’m going to hold off until the weekend after Thanksgiving. I’m going to keep telling myself that too.
(Betting against me would probably be a good bet.)
In related news, sometime earlier in the year we got rid of our cable. I was just struck with HORROR IN MY HEART because I realized I won’t get to watch the achingly awful movies on Fa-La-La-La Lifetime or ABC Family. Please, oh, please, oh, please, I hope they’re online or Hulu!
Seriously, it’s one of my favorite guilty pleasures of December. Crappy, sappy, endlessly unreal movies all centering around the holidays? YOU CANNOT GO WRONG.
Weep with me, people.
In other weep-worthy news, I’ve officially given up chocolate.
I’ll pause and give this announcement a moment of silence whilst a funeral durge plays in the background to appropriately commemorate this melancholy moment.
As you wipe your tears in pity for me, I’ll tell you the reason why is it seems my sensitivity to caffeine has gotten worse. A couple of years ago I had to give up soda because caffeine began giving me panic attacks. This past month I’ve noticed whenever I’ve partaken of any chocolatey goodness, I spend the afternoon feeling slightly paranoid and anxious. Okay. More so than normal.
Last night after enjoying a post-Halloween, -birthday bash piece of cake, I noticed that I was feeling off. I mentioned it to Jason, and he quickly reminded me of the chocolate consumption. Suddenly, all movie like, where the camera rushes and the color mingles across the screen as we commence the flashback, I remembered feeling this way after Andy’s chocolate birthday cake and other chocolatey moments of blissful ignorance. In fact, last year I had a full-on panic attack after having a small piece at my mom’s house. I thought it was a one-time thing. That’s what I get for thinking.
What this means is that, alas, we must part ways. Feeling that way, either having panic or being on the verge, is just awful, as those of you that have had them can attest. So I have to do it.
Au revoir, mon ami.
For those of you that read my last post, a thousand thanks and hugs of gratitude.
My uncle was in incredibly bad shape. So it was with a mixture of relief and sorrow when he passed last Sunday.
It was far more difficult than I imagined it would be. He suffered in the end, and it was the best thing for him to be released from that pain. But it doesn’t make it any easier. He was very, very loved by his friends and family. His loss leaves a gaping hole in the world. My heart aches for that hole he left. But there is solace — so, so, so many blessings really — in the knowledge that his suffering has ended. Thank the heavens for that.
Last week one of my girlfriends from high school stopped by on her way home after a road trip down south. Her visit was like a ray of sunshine. We stayed up late, long after we put our wee ones to bed, talking and reminiscing, laughing, crying. All of it so, so, so good and healing and wonderful. I didn’t realize just how much I needed that until she walked into the door with her beautiful little one.
And since she’ll read this because she loves me and reads me whenever I find the time to blog, I’ll say love to you and your family. You’re welcome in our home any time.
Indeed, I echo her sentiments that it was some of the best girl times ever, and I find myself anxiously waiting the next time! Only next time hopefully your mister is with you, so he and Jason can froth at the mouth as they geek it up.
Also, her little boy (who happens to share his first name with AJ) is so incredibly delightful, it made my ovaries ache.
At the beginning of this year I was all talk about how 2010 was going to be THE YEAR OF AWESOMENESS.
And just like a kid who is below the height limit on all the fun rides, 2010 has been THE YEAR OF SHEER LAME SAUCE, and it has been poured over many, many big and little areas of our life. Granted, maybe they seem so huge because it all comes at a time of things being lean financially around here, so the problems feel insurmountable. I don’t know. You tell me.
I’m going to give you a bullet list here. You all tell me if this is honestly just normal, or if it’s seriously lame and maybe I broke a mirror over a black cat that was standing under a ladder licking up spilled salt.
*My uncle passed away.
*Jason goes into a near diabetic coma and is rushed to hospital by ambulance.
*Little girl in the park gets all crazy on my kids, kicks AJ in the nuts and steals Kalina’s best pair of glasses, which we then had to replace, which all you parents of glass wearers know is NOT cheap. PLUS, when Jason went to lay the law down with the parents, it all turned into a really weird scene, which we decided was left as is.
*The last weekend of May when [redacted]. (If I could talk about this, I totally would because it could help resolve some of my feelings about the situation. But I can’t. Just believe me when I say it really, really, really sucks, and I even have dreams about it.)
*The first weekend of September when [redacted]. (I KNOW! I’m sorry! But this sucked too!)
*Business slowed down for me because I cut my contracts down because I was going to write, only I chickened out and didn’t know where to start or what to do, so things have been LEAN here, my friends. REALLY lean.
*Business has been slow for Jason too. And a client just stiffed him for a healthy enough chunk of change. I heard him tell someone on the phone last night that he was ready to break some knees for it. And he’d do it too, only if he wasn’t such a softy.
*And the final straw was this past weekend, around 12:15 a.m., when Jason and I were sound a sleep, a crash, bang, boom, kapow woke us up. I swear, it sounded like someone was breaking down the backdoor. But when we walked into the laundry room, from whence the sound came, we were not greeted by a broken-down door and burglar. Instead, we found an entire gallon of paint, PLUS SOME, pooled on our laundry room floor and even creeping into Smoky’s dog bed. A shelving unit had given away, pulling the anchors out of the wall and sending a gallon and a half of paint to the ground, knocking over the clothes hamper along the way. And what landed on that paint? Smallish boxes of other things, said clothes hamper and other miscellany.
Can I just say that spilled paint is a nightmare? I mean, we were lucky because it wasn’t on carpet, but still, what a frakking nightmare. The sucky thing was we ended up having to use seven of our good towels because I had just gotten rid of all of our not-so-good towels. I now am experiencing a towel shortage, which comes at a time post-birthdays, Halloween and crappy work time (read: low fundage). It just sucked on all levels.
I was useless during this entire episode. Jason became my hero. I sobbed hot tears, bemoaning our fateful year and luck, feeling that this had just put me over the edge of it all. This entailed two hours of cleanup of the tiniest room in our house. It was ugly. Fortunately, the kids had fallen asleep at my mom’s, so it was just me, the dogs and Jason to experience the pain that was that night.
I know it doesn’t sound like much, but it seriously just pushed me over that teetering edge of hysteria. I don’t go there often because I try to be pretty even-keeled. But apparently I was tiptoeing that line much more than I realized.
*We stopped paying for our health insurance because we simply could no longer afford it. The kids still have a policy, but Jason and I are now insurance-less. I have resorted to threatening anyone who doesn’t cover their cough or wash their hands with bodily harm and a doctor’s bill. My mantra is, “Don’t cough on me. I don’t have insurance.” It’s true, ya’ll.
And I guess that about sums it up. When I just asked Jason if I was missing anything, Kalina chimed in with, “Remember when our phones broke? That’s one!”
Apparently our phones being broken for three days was pretty heavy to her. It rained and caused some sort of malfunction. It happened on a Friday, and we couldn’t get anyone out here till Monday or Tuesday, and we had to rely on our cell phones. This? No big deal. But tragic to a 6-year-old. Who knew?
Full disclosure: I just stopped writing this post so I could make/eat dinner and then shower. The reason the shower is significant is because last night, Jason and I went as Frankenstein and Bride of Frankenstein. In lieu of paying for the cost of a wig, I realized I could do my own hair in Bride of Frankensteinish fashion in a much more convincing manner by teasing and hair spraying it into electrified submission.
I was not wrong.
My kids doubted me. Kalina specifically felt my just-past-shoulder-length hair was much too short to be electric enough.
She was wrong. It was awesome. Everyone was just amazed at its staying power.
So we had our Halloween festivities, me with my hair, and Jason as a very convincing Frankenstein.
Then we came home. The kids collapsed into bed in a sugar coma, and Jason and I followed suit.
I briefly took a stab at washing my black and gray make-up off. But my hair? I attempted to tame it with a rubberband. It wasn’t pretty. And then I fell into the post-Halloween/birthday/weekend stupor.
When I woke up, it was… scary. I decided to conceal it underneath a handkerchief, which I wore in my hair all day. After all, I didn’t have much time to shower because I had overslept a bit (kids didn’t have school today, and I was lazy. What can I say?). I managed to wash my face and brush my teeth. But every time I’d reach up to adjust my hair in some way, I was met with a spongy brillo pad where once my soft hair would be found.
Finally, after dinner, I stole away to the shower and doused my hair liberally with conditioner, attempting to work out the tangles and knots. I had to literally massage the water into my hair for it to absorb the water past the teasing and the hairspray. I attacked it with my wide-tooth comb, but after five minutes of near-futile combing (though delicately and gingerly), I gave up and rinsed.
I’m happy to say now though that I am tangle free. My hair no longer electrified, it is now smooth and shimmery, if not substantially over-conditioned.
And that, my friends, should have you caught up with the randomness. You must really love me if you made it through to the end.