September 28, 2004
The Most Memorable Kiss

Once upon a time, I was having a rough day. The kind of day that makes you want to surrender, but then you realize there's no one willing to take prisoners. Professors and friends and bosses and parents. Deadlines and obligations and winter rain. I managed to get through the whole nasty day knowing that my boyfriend was meeting me for dinner. He was he kind of guy that could smile at me, and suddenly I couldn't remember my own name. More to the point, I didn't care that I couldn't remember my own name.

He was a little distant at dinner, and even more so after dinner. I started to get a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. Sure enough, no good-night kiss for me. The subtle step back ... yeah, that kind of rejection was just perfect to finish off the day. Then, he says something about coming down with a cold and he didn't want me to get it because he'd feel really bad if he made me sick. Interestingly enough, I knew he meant it. He was just that considerate. Of course I understood, of course I couldn't be mad, of course by that point I just wanted to die and be done with it. So he says good-night, and I sink onto the couch. Just sitting there. Staring at the floor. Too depressed to even cry about it. All the life crushed out of me.

I hear something. I look up. He's standing in the doorway, looking at me. And I look at him and he looks at me and I look at him and I'm just too defeated to even work up the energy to pretend that I'm ok. And he smiles. A rather particular smile that seems to say "I know I'm going to regret this ..." And he kisses me. Until everything else just fades away. He whispers "I couldn't leave you, not like that." I don't know who was more surprised, me or him. The tone as captivating as the message, laced with undercurrents of the amused self-awareness that he would abandon practicality and logic for me.

Occassionally, I still hear that whisper. Like an almost-kiss on the back of my neck. In fact, just this week I heard that tone in his voice when he called from half-way around the globe. As soon as I heard his voice, I knew he had read the post about the attempted break-in. I also knew he would re-arrange his trip to come home early. Because he loves me beyond reason. Which makes everything else just fade away.

September 26, 2004
Ya Gotta Laugh

Ya gotta laugh, or cry, or laugh so much you cry. Although I'll tell you now that I try to avoid the crying thing because I get all splotchy and puffy and beet red which is NOT a good look for me.

Side Note: Talking about beets, that reminds me of the time my husband and I took Sam to dinner to celebrate the end of a semester. I was VERY pregnant and wearing my burgandy waffle-weave tent-with-sleeves dress. I suppose my blood pressure was a little up, just a bit. And the walk from the car to the restaurent was a little up-hill. Suddenly, Sam looks at me and blurts out "You look like a giant turnip". Imagine if you will a hungry, hot, tired, cranky, pregnant woman being called a giant turnip. Its a good thing I was speechless! Samantha realized quickly that something was wrong. Then it dawned on her! "No, no, I mean you look like a gaint beet because your face is all red and your dress is all red. Are you OK?" But I digress, back to the drama ...

September 22, 2004

Do you remember the first time your husband or wife kissed you? What is your single most memorable kiss ever? What do you think is the best screen-kiss of all time?


My husband is out of town on a business trip. I get no sleep when he's out of town. Literally a few hours sleep a night (about 3) if I'm lucky.

This means I'm exhausted and not particularly chipper right this very minute. Please note: this is the middle of the night. Everyone else is either asleep, or getting paid extra to work the night shift.

Thought y'al might need an explanation about why I've fallen off the happy-fluffy-bunny train-of-thought the last few posts. Should be over soon, as my dear sweet man arranged for a steady stream of relatives to start visiting while he's gone. So then, I'll be well-rested but crazy :)

September 20, 2004
Misinformation vs Ms. Information

I'm continually appalled by the lack of knowledge men seem to possess about women as a group. (This qualifies as a "happy" post because I'm going to play Ms. Information and save any random guy reading this a lot of grief, and thats good news for them)

No, this is not about KOF and his comment problem. That made me laugh. Later. After I had a nap.

This is about the dreck I read in Men'sHealthMagazine, which is occassionally a little crude but often informative about health issues. I love my husband enough to read up about what vitamens are good for men, for example. Anyway, here's what got my attention in the editors column:

MensHealthMagazine editor David Zinczenko wrote "Repeatedly ... heard the same thing from their women friends: I have a career, I have financial independence, and I'm tired of putting up with him ... Nicole Beland, columnist, points out ... young women today don't expect a man to take care of them. Their priorities are an education, a career, and a financial strategy... And a man, if he happens to come along, would be a nice addition".

The magazine goes on to outline a plan that essentially advocates men become more like women, sensitive listening etc. Here's the reality: ALAN ALDA IS NOT THE SECRET DESIRE OF EVERY WOMAN. He's just not. I think they confuse sensitive/modern/liberated with supportive/nice/decent. And there is a difference. For example, men that cry at the drop of a hat creep me out (and most of my friends too, although its ok if its a big deal but that doesn't include AT&T commercials). We like guys that call their grandmother once a week like its no big deal.

Sure, most of my female friends don't EXPECT a man to take care of them ... but that doesn't mean they don't WANT a man to be willing to take care of them. And thats not heresy, thats the truth.

When X-men-2, the movie with Hugh Jackman as Wolverine, came out we went to go see it the same week as Tina and Rob. Later we were talking to them, and Rob happened to be joking about not knowing what women want. Tina and I looked at each other and laughed. "Are you thinking of that scene?" "Oh, yeah. THATS what women want!". *crickets chirping ... guys looking clueless*

September 19, 2004
My Top Ten Compliments

When was the last time you gave or recieved a real compliment? Not the obligatory "you look fine/nice/whatever-will-get-us-out-of-the-house-on-time", but a real heartfelt compliment that leaves the recipient speechless, a sudden burst of unselfconcious honesty.

I've noticed that I can remember almost every negative thing my mother ever said about me. Sometimes it would be easy to drown in that ocean, pulled down by bitter rip-tides with all the joy in me crushed by wave upon wave of disapproval. I forget about the truly great, and occasionally weird, compliments I've gotten in my life. Those are the things I should remember. Maybe sharing them will help them seem more real to me, pull them to the front of my memories. Its not vanity, its amazement and gratitude.

I Forgot I Liked Todd Rundgren

I was watching Lazytown when I heard that Laura Branigan had died. I liked her music back in the day when my friends had big hair. I was never allowed to have big hair, and truth be told I really didn't want "stylish" big hair. It seemed awfully tanglely. Guys in highschool liked to sit behind me in class because I had longish soft non-tangley non-sprayed hair that just barely brushed the top of the desk behind me. I also wasn't allowed to listen to music at home. My mother didn't like a bunch of noise around the house all the time. Certainly not any music like Laura Branigan, which is a shame since its really quite perky and high-energy.

I went to and ordered a Laura Branigan CD which is almost as perky as the music on Lazytown (which is not available in English in the states yet). Then suggested that others had bought Bonnie Tyler Cd's. Wow! I like Bonnie Tyler even better than Laura Branigan. (Chick-Rock is the best) When I got the Bonnie Tyler CD (which makes me very happy) there's a song on it thats a duet with Todd Rundgren.

I know very little about him, except that he's an older musician. The kind of musician that made it before the industry started "marketing" music. The kind of musican that can actually sing. REALLY sing. If he were alone, in the jungle away from electricity with no instruments, he would still sound great. That started me thinking about seeing him on David Letterman a few months ago. This older guy came on stage in a purple silk (?) suit, and hat. And he's not cute. He definitely has scary hair. Then he started singing, and it was ok. Then he REALLY started singing. The song was so sharp, poking sly fun at the "professionals" that are marketed as stars. And he just radiated attitude, and almost amusement that the current teenyboppers thought they were real musicians. I got the distinct impression his performance was kinda a slap along with the message "You will NEVER be me". I love that kinda attitude, especially by extra-talented nice guys that are clean and sober.

My husband has that attitude. That weirdly amused "bring it on" attitude. Self-confidence that some bitter people might percieve as arrogance, except that he's so honestly nice that its impossible to not like him. Even his ex-girlfriends all like him (although a few definitely don't like me, and I'm OK with that :)

September 15, 2004
Halloween Costumes

Well, that time is almost upon us. Last year, I convinced everyone to go as Superman, Superboy, Superboy, and Supergirl. Easy: blue sweat pants, superman underwear set, fake red velvet cape ($1 per yard at Walmart, its called "costume velvet"). Except for Cassie, she wanted a red lace cape. And my husband refused to wear a cape at all.

This year, I'm not so lucky. Cassie is going to be a princess, Lee is going to be Batman, and Ron is going to be RobinHood. My husband refuses to dress-up at all :( Although, if I lose enough weight that I weigh less than he does, then next year he'll dress up as the tall yellow "M" so I can dress up as the short red "M" and we can be "M&M's" which I think would be cute and he thinks would be a fate worse than death!

Cassie is going to be the flounciest princess ever. I bought the most atrocious junior bridesmaid dress on extra-clearance. Pale pink raw silk and tulle as far as the eye can see! Add a bunch of rhinestones, a white velvet cape trimmed in maribou, and a sparkly tiara. I can't let her have the Sceptor of Power, because she uses it to beat people that don't do her bidding.

Lee has been determined to be Batman since last Halloween. He's been lobbying for a utility belt with cool gadgets. I'm a good costumer, but not THAT good. Still, he seems satisfied with a cool Batman shirt that I've assured him he can wear lots and lots. Once again, problem solved with sweatpants and cool velvet cape!

Ron will argue me to tears over RobinHood. First it was the color of the pants. I think brown and he thinks green. I showed him a picture. He told me that it didn't matter because in his head, he liked to imagine RobinHood with green pants. How do I argue with that!?! Once again cool velvet cape (brown) and sweatpants. Little hat with red feather. Done ... or so I thought. Ron hit me with The Big Idea. He wants a bow&arrow. Thats a huge part of who RobinHood is. He needs one desperately.

I've not been sleeping well lately, or perhaps just not sleeping enough. Either way, I am SO easy. I've decided to order Lee the really cool full-head Batman mask, I'll get Cassie tennis shoes and trim them in maribou too, and I'll order Ron the bow&arrow with the stipulation that it gets put up the morning after Halloween.

I told Ron the last part of those surprises so he could relax (ie quit plotting ways to convince me to do what I was, unbeknownst to him, going to do anyway). I overheard him telling Lee about it. " ... then she's going to put it up so we'll have to shoot a lot of things that night!"

September 14, 2004
When Squirrels Attack

I was stumbling down the hallway toward the bedroom after an exhausting day when it happened. Two wildly rabid squirrels raced around the corner toward my ankles. I did exactly what any normal person would do. Jumped, screamed, fell against the wall with a VERY loud thump as I tried to lift BOTH feet off the ground at the same time, followed by expletives. Well, at least one expletive. This was the kind of situation that will, sure enough, wake every single person in the house with a surge of panic and adrenaline.

Personally, I think my behavior was perfectly rational. On the other hand, my husband thought I had lost my mind. I suspect his opinion was hinged on the fact that there were no squirrels, rabid or otherwise, in the hallway.

He had been reading on the bed when he decided that his feet would be happier without socks. So, he took off the socks. Hmmmm, he must have thought. What to do with the socks? He's an incredibly talented man who managed to throw them out the bedroom door so that they ricocheted down the hallway to the bathroom door, which is the first step in getting things into the dirty-clothes pile in the bathroom. At least he had a plan. His plan did NOT include his half-blind and imaginative wife walking into his line of fire. It certainly did NOT include the ensueing chaos as all the children were jerked awake by the half-blind and imaginative wife having fits right outside their bedroom doors.

The next day, I bumped into a friend (and her husband) at the library. After hearing the story, my friend laughed until she cried and agreed that it was ALL my husband's fault. Her husband just looked perplexed. He said something like "I don't get it". I tried to explain it to him slowly, in small words. "I mistakenly thought the socks were rabid squirrels because I was tired and didn't have my glasses." He just looked at me. "Of course I understand that part. What I wonder is why you assumed they were rabid squirrels, instead of normal squirrels?"

Now I wonder about that, too.

September 13, 2004
New Excursion

Attention, attention! Please note there is a new site listed under "Excursions". For those of you that came late to the party, I only list sites that I visit daily to save myself some time. The Resplendent Mango is definitely one of those. And isn't that the yummiest name? You'd think her site would be a fabulous vibrant orange, or maybe yellow. But its a rather sedate lovely watercolorish green. Very serene, but kinda common. (Nothing like my especially lovely site, designed by the now defunct KingOfFoolsDesignServices :) Not that I'm trashing her site design, just pointing out that her content stands by itself, making her site fabulous for all the right reasons. Still ... I would love to see it with little mangoes all over it. Y'al know how I like things to match and coordinate, but I've accepted thats my own personal issue to work on.

You may also note that Dowingba is gone. Thats because he's a brilliant guy thats been writing on technical things that bore me to tears, instead of the kinda cool creative stuff he does so well too. If I understood half the stuff he says I'm sure I'd be fascinated and awed. As it is, I just feel stupid when I read his site. And its grey. Totally grey. Which is because he's color-blind ... but, still. Hey, he's also a good musician. I think he has a link to the Mozeba site, thats the group he plays with. Its kinda different music. Very listenable.

So there you have it. I can't keep my living room clutter free, but I'm working on keeping my sidebar updated. Actually, my husband is doing it. But I supervise :)

September 10, 2004
Jumping On The Bandwagon

It seems we're all on the bandwagon (or sinking boat, if you will) that is commonly known as Lazytown.

I swear, we had to Tivo backwards over and over until we learned the weird little arm swishy thing Sportacus does when he rushes off to help people. Thats so that my Lee can duplicate it. Incredibly ironic is that Lee is NOT the quickest bunny in the rabbit hole. Do you remember those crazy single frame FamilyCircus cartoons that showed Billy's twisting trips around the house and yard? Thats my boy!

And its got a soundtrack to kill for! I was so inspired by watching the kids bop around to the music that I ordered a latin-music-areobics-dance video. I can not WAIT for the Lazytown CD's to come out.

BingBangDiggaDiggaDing, Funny words I sing when I am dancing
BingBangDiggaDiggaDing, Silly words that don't mean any thing ...
(be scared, I didn't even have to go look up the words :)

September 09, 2004
Anxiety, Or The Lack Thereof

Yesterday morning, Lee woke me up with a swift poke in the eye and an urgent question. "Mama?!? Why is there a big hole in the ceiling?"

Normally, this would send adrenaline courseing through my body. Now, I'm unphased. Nothing more than a vague curiousity wondering what WOULD cause a "big hole in the ceiling". Perhaps a meteor? (Keep in mind that I was still half asleep)

Come to find out, he was looking at the "big hole" that is where the light fixture will be installed today (or tomorrow) (or the next day) (or next week) (but definitely by Christmas).

What I find find more alarming than the "big hole" is that I lacked any kind of anxiety, or even surprise. Think about that: I wouldn't have been surprised at all if a meteorite crashed through the roof of my house. Literally. I would have just nodded, and muttered "well, at least I haven't refinished the floor in that room yet". This is NOT an indicator of a healthy mind.

Even more disturbing is that my contractor just nodded knowingly and announced "Yep, you've reached the numb stage. It'll start coming together and be better soon". Think about that, too: this is a COMMON stage.

On an "up" note, I've heard that euphoria is the next stage after the project is done! That should be good :)

September 06, 2004
Green Feet

Last night, I stained the concrete floor in the basement office a lovely shade of green, because that's what my husband wanted at the time. This resulted in the bottom of my feet being stained green. Solid green. VERY green. It wouldn't wash off.

This morning, Cassie (age 2) is wrestling us awake when my husband gets a brilliant idea -- quick as a wink, he snaps his fingers and tells Cassie "I have a magic trick, snap/snap, Mommy's feet are now green!" I flip the bottom of my feet so Cassie can see them, thinking she might giggle. She screams "NO ... no no no no ... mutter/mutter/extra-intense-frown" as she checks the bottom of HER feet for green. After he stops convulsing, my husband explains to her that it was a trick and that the green on the bottom of Mommy's feet was just paint. Her whole body relaxed, but ... OH!, the look she gave him! I don't think it amused her that it only sent him into further gales of laughter.

September 05, 2004
The Alan Stories

(The Alan Stories is a "gift" for Dean, because he liked The Norman Stories.)

I'm Southern. Perhaps talking is a Southern thing. Not the everyday rat-a-tat-a-tat of information conveyance, but the slow laughing meandering repetitive talking that happens on porches during the summer and around the fireplace in the winter. Not about anything in particular, just remembering random bits of a person's life. Over the years, if you're paying attention, you find yourself with memory-quilts that tell people's stories. Something warm to pull close when you need a bit of comfort, an assurance that you are not alone. A certainty that humanity has gone before, and will come after. A reminder of victories and survivals and goodness, even of "sorrow and the overcoming of it".

Sometimes there is a memory-quilt so stunningly different that you feel compelled to share it, to not let it fade away into the years. A story that so grips your mind and heart that you can't let it go, a story that makes you laugh and cry, a story that leaves you proud and satisfied to be human.

I hesitate to tell all the Alan stories, only for fear that I won't be believed. Frankly, truth is stranger than fiction. But the stories I'm about to tell you are true and deserve to be remembered. So, I give you ... The Alan Stories ...

September 04, 2004
The Dog Ate My Homework

NOT kidding, the puppies ate my house. Its a real house, with vintage cedar-siding. They ate two holes in it. Big holes. Animals could get in my walls.

In my whole life, I've NEVER heard of dogs chewing siding before. There could be squirrels in my walls. Ok, I don't think there are squirrels in the walls yet ... but its possible there could be.

The puppies are about twelve weeks old. A few weeks ago, my husband came home with a "surprise". We had talked about getting a puppy. I must have rambled incessently about how Golden Retriever puppies were the cutest puppies on Earth. He went to a business meeting in the city. I thought it would take all day. Apparently it only took about an hour, and he spent the rest of the day on a mission to retrieve TWO puppies with different bloodlines. One is exquisitely beautiful now, and the other will be after she grows into her body a little bit. We were thrilled to get them, and we love them dearly. UNTIL THEY ATE THE HOUSE!

I can't even wrap my mind around it. What kind of freaky animal eats a house!?! Tomorrow I'm going to take pictures. It isn't funny now, but I'm sure I'll laugh about it in 20 years. Y'al feel free to laugh about it now :)

September 03, 2004
Sometimes I Forget Things

Sometimes I forget things, although never my car keys. I've had the same keyring for about 19 years. Its very nice. My younger brother got it for me when I was in high-school. I remember being completely shocked, and pleased, that he picked it out for me.

But, there are things that I definitely forget. Things that I take for granted. Things that get buried beneath piles of everydayness.

September 02, 2004
More Proof Chris Muir Is Smart

As if any of us needed more proof that ChrisMuir (the witty genius behind is smart, he's indicated in charming style that he's evacuating Florida because of a hurricane.

He's in our thoughts and prayers. For example, I'm thinking "Thank Goodness Its Not Me". Been there, done that, got OUT! And I'll be praying something along the lines of "protect him and his, provide him with peace of mind and heart, etc". Feel free to pray along with me. The more the merrier. (And while you're at it, pray for Bruce-Sheilah's-husband. The almost ex-catholic who can't bring himself to be a protestant. It seems that religion is more stress than comfort for him, which is a shame.) But, I digress ...

See, its obvious that Chris is smart because he is indeed following expert advice and leaving his home/area. I'm always amazed at the otherwise-normal people that insist "I'll be ok, nothing is going to happen, I'll just sit here until the storm squashes me, it'll be fun" WHAT are they thinking?

September 01, 2004
Don't You Start With Me ...

I was supposed to take the boys to the pool yesterday, but it completely slipped my mind in the midst of the remodeling-chaos. Last night, after dinner I found myself reminded rather firmly. So, I found myself sitting in the kiddie-end of the pool-complex next to the big green frog-slide (you climb up his back, jump between his eyes, and slide down his tongue). My boys were living on the edge, sliding down on their tummies. I was relaxing, enjoying just watching them having a good time. Duh-duh-duh-duh (music from Jaws).


Today is September 1.

I resolve to post something every single day this month. Some posts will be short along the lines of " ... can you believe ...?" and some will be very long posts along the lines of "... his lifestory..." Still, everyday at least a little something.