I have an excuse for all of it! I swear!

So, I was shopping in Wal-Mart the other day looking for school supplies and I rambled past the display of posters. I sometimes stop there to give myself a good laugh because Lord knows I need it sometimes. I giggle at the Justin Beiber posters, the Kim Kardashian posters and the three million and one Twilight posters. Ok, techinally there were 5 but still. In a rack with only 20 posters total, 5 of one specific subject is a lot. That's like... 25%, right? And another 25% for Mr. Beiber. That left room for a few clever posters that.... *sigh* why the hell am I worried about math? The point is, out of the 20 posters I found a few that humored me. And then I found the one I knew I just had to have. It spoke to me. I gave my life meaning.

I sat there for 10 minutes and read this and began to wonder... am I a zombie and I just didn't know it? I thought the term for my condition was insomnia, but this got me thinking.

Let's break this down:
You're not sure if you're dead. Um... I can feel my heart beat but sometimes I wonder. Am I alive? My range of emotion lately is pretty small. I'm tired. I'm angry. I'm angry because I'm tired.
You kind of lumber slowly. Yes, yes I do. Because I'm tired all the time. Quick movements are impossible for me these past couple of weeks.
You have a taste for brains. Well, no, not particularly. Brains don't exactly sound yummy. But I don't particularly like spicy food, does that mean I'm not Mexican? (which I totally am, by the way)
You wear raggedy clothing.... um... uh... So what if I've had the same pajama bottoms for over 10 years and so what if the waistband is completely frayed and there are holes all over them. And so what if I tried to throw them away several times but still manage to pull them out and wear them. Because they are my favorite pj bottoms. So what if it's raggedy!
You have bad hair days. Now that's not fair. Everyone has bad hair days, right? Everyone has days where no matter what you do, your hair still looks like the Hilton for rats. Big deal, everyone has bad hair days.
You don't have feelings. Despite what my husband yells at me constantly, I do have feelings. See above. I'm angry. And tired. Two feelings right there! Hmph.
You have a problem opening doors. I had a hand spasm. And I still stand by that reason.
You hate just sitting around. I'm an antsy person. I can't help it. I have to be doing something at all times. So what?
You don't care for sunlight. I've always been a night owl. I prefer the evenings. So what if I don't like going out and doing stuff during the day. So what if I'm up all night then prefer to sleep all day. That's how I've always been.
You tend to claw at things. Clawing is so much easier then grabbing. Because someone will always grab it for you. Always.
You drool a lot and you ooze things. Only drool when I sleep and when I'm on my period. Or am I on my period? Maybe I'm just... oozing...
You always know when other people are zombies. Zombies, insomniacs... same thing right? Have you ever been on twitter after 2am? It's like a club of non-sleepers. Yes we're weird but, still.. we aren't zombies. *scoff*
You can rise up, at least twice, after being shot. It was a shot to the arm. My legs were still intact. *eyeroll*
You have a habit of picking your flesh off. It was a bad sunburn. What was supposed to do? Let myself flake off all over the place?
People run from you screaming. If you had the Hilton for rats on your head, flaky skin and were wearing worn through pajama bottoms people just don't understand you and feel the need to run away. So what?
For some odd reason, you like cheerleaders. They have spirit! Yes they do!
You like to hang out with other zombies. I swear, Twitter... after 2am. It's awesome. Also, my best friend Marcy is a zombie too... er, I mean insomniac.
You like to check out campgrounds and malls. The coolest people hang out there! Hippies in campgrounds and the unphased youngsters who thing they are cooler then everyone else at the mall. What's more fun then that?
Your not phased by baseballs bats and crowbars. Batter up bitches!
You tend to stare at people. It's called people watching and everyone does it. Geez...
You don't talk much. So? I live in a house full of talkers. I can't get a fucking word in!
And you never... ever sleep. Yes. I don't sleep. I've seen the sunrise almost every day before I'm able to finally doze off. And then woken up 2--maybe 3 if I'm lucky--hours later. Sleep is for the weak right?

Or sleep is for the people who are NOT zombies. Maybe I am a zombie. I have been rambling around with bags under my eyes, rats nest on my head and moaning a lot lately. I'm on the hook to seek medical attention for the insomnia. Maybe he'll hook me up with something for the oozing, flaking and complete absense of an emotional spectrum.

It's Coming! It's headed right for us!!!

Get the reference? Get it? Get it? No? Well.... ok. It's from Twister... you know... the epically awesome movie with Bill Paxton, Helen Hunt and the, you know, twisters?

*sigh* I amuse only myelf sometimes, I realize that.

ANYWAY...

Two weeks from Friday my good friends Mike and Erin are coming to visit. This trip has been planned since May. Four months is a long time to anticipate a friend coming to visit. And four months is a very long time to get ready for that visit. I realize it's still two weeks away but I should have been preparing for the visit back in May.

You see, I'm not a neat person. I'm no where near neat. I'm kind of a slob. And a lazy one at that. Ok, so slob isn't the right word. I don't live in filth. I live in clutter though. Lots and lots of clutter. So as a typical clutter dweller, I've made my list if things I need done before Mike and Erin get here.

Actual list. I have several lists that are identical. That notebook is full of them.

The list is very general isn't it? Yes, I know. And I can guarantee you that not a single thing will be done on that list until two days before they get here. Because I am a procrastinator.

Regarding #3 on that list... You see, the spare room has been our catch all room. Don't know where it goes? Put it in the spare room! It is currently overflowing with kids stuff: books, toys, old clothes. It's a pig sty really. I know the kids go in there and wallow in it, mess it up some more just to fuck with me. And I know it's going to take a full week to clean it all. Which is why I needed to remind myself "Next Need a week". And not only does it need to be cleaned because of the pig sty-ness, that's the room Mike and Erin are supposed to be in. Seriously, I can't have them in a room that reminds them of that show "Hoarders". Then they are going to think we are actually hoarders, call Dr. Chinstrap in to enter into my dreams and try and cure me of herding. (South Park anyone? Anyone? Really? Never seen it? Click here to watch or if you just want the cliff notes version click here ) But seriously, I might need actual help and they might actually call in that doctor from the show. I don't know who the doctor is on "Hoarders" because I physically can not watch it, it gives me the heebies everytime it's on.

I feel myself digressing.... it's the "Suck Zone".... (get the Twister reference? No? Come on people! Watch this movie! It fucking awesome!!!)

I went to the "Hoarders" show website just now, to find the doctors name and I saw this. I think they knew I would be on their website today. I think they knew just how to connect with me, an eternal clutter dweller. They knew.

Matt Paxton's Decluttering Tips

And seriously? His name is Matt Paxton. And I referenced Twister twice which stars Bill Paxton.  This is Twilight Zone stuff people. Real Twilight Zone stuff. *insert eerie music*

Ever have those moments? You are thinking about something or someone and suddenly it happens, or that person calls you? I've had that happen multiple times. No, more then multiple times. It happens all the time for me. Am I psychic? Do I have the ESP? Am I special?

Ok, don't answer those questions...

I've entered the Suck Zone again, haven't I? Oh well. I need to get off my ass and start decluttering.

Note: Mike & Erin coming to visit then Erin and I run off to Seattle area to see Maroon 5 in concert.  Yes, I am going to see my Adam Levine (yes... he's mine. What of it?) live and in person. Huzzah.

The Age of technology, or some bullshit like that

This is a not really post post. It's a test really. I'm on my iPad, in my room, laying on my bed with a sexy Paul Walker on my television. (Takers... Anyone seen it? Multitudes of eye candy)

I wanted to see how this blogging thing works in the mobile sense. I think if this works for me, I'll post more often. Maybe... You see, I need mobile right now. Obviously I'm not really mobile but there are reasons why I need this. Everyday I sit down at my computer. After I've read my email, trolled on Facebook I stare at my computer screen with the intent on writing on here about my life, how I'm feeling, what I'm going through. But there is something else looming on my computer that taunts me. I see the icon on the corner and it calls out my name, begging for attention.

And no... It's not my overwhelmingly huge folder of Adam Levine pictures.

It's my story... My escape... My fictional life that I've created and have dabbled in for over a year. It's done. The story is one whole document, not 20 or so smaller chapters. It's done. And because it's done I want someone else to read it. But I always have to tweak it a little more before I pass it on.

That is why I need to be mobile. I have to avoid my computer. The document is there, taunting me, whispering to me "Do you really want to let me go?" Even now, it's downstairs, calling out to me "You aren't sleeping, come to me..."

You know that saying, if you love something, set it free. Well, I love that story. So much of myself was put into it and I'm not 100% sure I want to let it go. So I will let it sit on the computer and I will ignore it's cries for attention (geez, I already ignore my kids' and husband's cry for attention, I should be good at it!) until I am ready to let it to. Time will tell and for now I think I'll just stay mobile. If this even works... Maybe I wrote all this and it won't go anywhere. *shrug*

Here goes nothing...

Utter frustration

Being a mom sucks. Especially being a mom with high expectations.

This post will probably be 100% word vomit but I need to write this out because where else am I going to vent about this stuff??

My daughter is very smart. She's very bright and catches on to things quickly. She excels at school in academics and on a personal level. But for some reason when it comes to me and my expectations of her, she is suddenly dumber then a doorknob.

"Clean your room." A simple request, right? She made the mess, she should clean be able to clean it up. Take the square peg out of the square hole, she should be able to put it back. No. Suddenly that square peg is round and it doesn't fit in the same hole. So a million and one questions are thrown at me. "Should I put this here?" "Where does this go?" "What should I do first?" "How long do I have to do this?" "I'm bored."  I don't understand how this child can be so smart and yet so dim when it comes to doing the things I ask.

Then I have to think... maybe I should help her and show her the right way to do it. I'm expecting too much out of her and I should be more patient and let her work at her own pace. Then I remember--I've shown her a thousand times how to clean her room. I've waited patiently as she learned to do it herself. I think she's just biding her time because she knows I will get frustrated with her and do it myself.

See... she is smart. She is bright. She's got me figured out. And she knows I will always give her dinner, even though I've threatened not to if she doesn't listen. She knows I will clean up her room because I can not stand it being messy. She knows... so she waits.

I've always told her, since she was an infant that she can fight me all she wants but Mommy will always win. Of course as an infant, it was a funny thing to say. She would giggle and coo at me, smile that irresistible smile with those perfect little dimples. And I actually thought I would always win. Now, 7 years later the battle of wills is still going strong and I'm afraid she's winning because I'm tired of fighting. It is so much easier to give in then fight with her. What kind of parent is that making me? The fight just exhausts me. And I'm tired of being exhausted.



But, but, but...!!



Mean Bitch... At least I think she is...

School starts next month and I can't freakin' wait! My kids have driven me to the edge, and I'm thinking about jumping just to end it all. Of course my luck, there's a small ledge underneath that I would land on--hard enough to severely injure myself but not hard enough to end it all because that's just how my life is--and my daughter would be there. "Mom, can I tell you something? You shouldn't have jumped. Why did you do that? Weren't you scared? I bet your feet really hurt now. Do you have a headache? Can I go play outside?" Then my son would come up and spank me on the butt. Yep... that's my life.

So, yea, school starts next month. And I'm looking forward to getting the kids out the house and have them interact with others. But with the new school year comes other kids' parents. I can't wait for that elusive 2pm time when I roll into the school parking lot with 300 other parents and wait for the bell to ring so we can reluctantly retrieve our kids. Yes, I'm being sarcastic. My kids' school is weird, although maybe it's not that weird and every other school is like this but I've never seen it done this way:

I park in the parking lot with the 300 other parents and stroll to the front of the school. Then we all wait around for the bell to ring at which we all file inside to our childrens' classrooms to pick them up.

Now, correct me if I'm wrong but that's weird right? Don't the kids usually leave their classrooms and file out of the school to the waiting parent instead of the other way around? I think the school board wanted to play a cruel joke on all us parents--an experiment of sorts--to force us all to stand around like morons, staring blankly at each other and wait for the other parent who you look at every day at 2pm to say something first. Which they never do. Instead they glare at you with a disgusted look on their face judging you for wearing your pajama bottoms to pick your kid up. (Which I did only one time---one freakin' time and I've been judged as a slob ever since! Geez.)

I'll get to my point about the mean skanky bitches. But here's backstory. Two years ago the husband and I were having a rough time. After an evening of fighting, I had to get the hell out of the house, which I did but soon found there was nothing to do in the podunk town. Well, our podunk down did have a bar. I've never been the type to hang out at a bar by myself but I needed something to do. I found soon that the locals weren't bad people and actually very chatty. I met a 77 year old hippy who talked non-stop about the legalization of marajuana. (Did I spell that right? I sounded it out: MAR-A-JEW-AN-A). I met a 22 year old skater guy who was on probation and shouldn't be at the bar but in his words "Fuck it, what else is there to do in this damn town?" My thoughts exactly skater-boy. Except his hands were permanantly attached to his girlfriends ass, so I thought I was sure there was something else they could be doing and probably would be doing that something the instant they felt intoxicated enough to go do it. Sad, sad little kids.

Then I met a nice guy, my age (I assumed, but never asked). We chatted at the bar while he waited for his drink then asked me to play pool with him. Which I did. We had fun. Then his harem of girls came up and bitched at him for ignoring them and that they were leaving with or without him. He was nice, bid me farewell and left with those girls. But girls will be girls and every one of them gave me the nastiest dirtiest looks. I said, "He's leaving with you, why you looking at me like that?" Of course I might have said when they were out of earshot. But in my mind I got into their faces and said it. Yea, I did. I'm that hardcore.

Summer came to an end and my little guy was starting preschool. I proudly took him to his first day and joyfully left him in his classroom. Of course as I was leaving the school, who should roll up in their pimped out SUV but one of those girls from the bar that night. I recognized her immediately because she had the same nasty look on her face and the same black roots peaking out under the bleached white hair. That's something you don't forget. She looked me up and down, rolled her eyes and took her son into the school. From that day on, the whole school year I got nothing but dirty looks from her and her friends. Not once did she say anything to me. Of course I didn't say anything to her either. I mean, what would I say? "Hey there, bitch. Got a problem?" That's what I wanted to say. Instead I would smile sweetly at her whenever our paths crossed.

The next year, it happened again. There she was, black roots and ugly looks. And if she happened to show up with any of her friends, her friends would join in with the dirty looks. Lucky me! Only this year she decided to take a different route against me. She started flirting with my husband. First, he said something. "One of the moms flirted with me." My curiousity went up. "Oh? Which one?" "She's kind of short, a little pudgy and had white hair with black roots." Soon after that, husband thought it was a game. "I don't know why you don't like her. She's really nice."

I got this mad. Yes, this mad...

So, if she wanted to be that way, fine. FINE! She can. And the totally crappy part of it all, I didn't only see her at the preschool, I saw her at the elementary school too. Because as fate would have it, we have kids the same age. I'm going to be dealing with this girl for my whole children's school life.

To validate things, my neighbor whom is usually with me when we pick up our daughters at the elementary school even noticed her dirty looks. She asked me about it one day I gave her the whole story you just read. "Maybe she's just jealous of you." My neighbor said.

That got me thinking... Not to be totally conceded about it but isn't that usually why most girls bully other girls--because they are jealous? My kids are cuter then hers. She seems to think my husband is cute. My hair is all one color. And her man wanted to play a game of pool with me 2 years ago. Of course she's jealous!

Of course with it being summer I hadn't thought about this mean girl for a while. Out of sight and thankfully out of mind. Then I see her at Safeway the other night. She was with her mom (whom my neighbor and I have named Hip-Hop Grannie because she chooses to wear velour sweat suits with the word "Juicy" across her saggy ass) and they were arguing. She--black roots girl--did not sound happy. She actually sounded really sad. And I felt bad for her. Then last night she was in my dream. We talked out everything between us--and about Adam Levine because it was my dream afterall--and we actually became friends.

So I got thinking. Maybe she isn't a mean skanky bitch. Maybe she's actually a nice girl. Maybe, just maybe, we have a few things in common and if we just ended with the ugly dirty looks, maybe break a smile once in a while we could become friends. Because even though I've judged her on her looks, her clothes and her cars, all of it isn't that bad. I actually like her car--it's a Tahoe. I have an Expedition. We aren't that different. She has worn a few things that I've had to admit were cute, and the girl has a thing for earrings, I can't begrudge her that. Her kids are fairly well behaved (as well as a 4, 5 & 7 yr old can be) which means she can't be that bad of a person.

Maybe I'll take the first step and actually give her a genuine smile on the first day of school. What's the worse that could happen? She could give me a dirty look? Hmph.

My iPod, A dedication to the wonders it holds

I have two iPods and I love them both equally in two completely different ways. I have a green Shuffle, his name is Kermie. I have a red Nano, her name is... Nano. I'm really creative on names, huh? (You should hear my kids' names, they are really original!)

Meet my iPods Kermie and Nano.

Kermie and Nano are the only two things in this house of mine that is 100% foolproof on making me happy. If I spend time with either of them the rest of my troubles disappear. *sigh* I love them.

I went to the movies last night and saw "Crazy Stupid Love".  So, so good! Must see. The writing, the cast, the feel of the whole movie was just perfect. As I left my house to go to the movies I realized that I have an hour drive ahead of me with just me and my iPod. (Yes, I go to the movies an hour away. Don't judge. I love it. It's guarenteed two hours of just me time that I wouldn't give up for anything). In that long drive there and home I realized, not only do I love my iPod, I love the music I've put on it. It's an random mix of everything: Dr. Dre, Garth Brooks, Guns N Roses, and of course lots of Maroon 5.

Remember back in jr. high when you'd listen to the radio and then call in to dedicate a song to the object of your affections? And then you'd wait for hours just to hear that dedication only to be disappointed because now it's 1am in the morning and you're song was never played so said object of affection will never know how you feel.

Well, that all ends today for me because my dedications are going to be heard. And because I spent two hours in the car listening to my random mix of music, I had time to listen, sing and think about who I would dedicate these songs too.

Said in DJ voice: Ladies and Gents, we have a young lady who wants to send out her love to everyone. First up we have...

(I've added the links to the songs in case you want to sing a long... I know you do!)

Run the World by Beyonce  This is for my daughter. Because she needs to know, us girls really do run the world. It's become a fun game we play, I say, "Hey Sis, who runs the world?" And she yells "Girls!" I will say, I'm glad she doesn't understand most the lyrics but I always stress to her these two verses when we hear the song: "How we're smart enough to make these millions; Strong enough to bear the children; Then get back to business" and "My persuasion can build a nation; Endless power; With our love we can devour; You'll do anything for me"   Oh yea, baby. Sing it!! 

Wrapped Up in You by Garth Brooks (love this video by the way).  This is for my son. First off, I'm not playing favorites with this song. I have a whole book of songs I would sing specifically to my daughter. But this song absolutely makes me think of my son. I am so wrapped up in him, he makes me smile like no other person can. Each verse rings true on my feelings for him but this sums it up: Every now and then; When the world; That were living in is crazy; You gladly hold me and carry me through; No one in the world's ever done; What you did for me; And I'd be sad and lonely; If there were no you." I love my baby boy and I can't imagine my world without him. *tear*

Best of My Love by the Eagles This is all for my husband. I can't even begin to break this song down as to why it's for him. The whole song... every word...   I don't even know what else to say.

Someone Like You by Adele *deep breath* This song breaks my heart. Puts me in a place that sometimes I just have to go there. (see here).  I honestly could list several Adele songs because I love all of them. I think she is a musical genius. And she's in concert here next week... it's sold out... I can't go. *pout*

Maroon 5... can't list just one song. I don't have dedications for these songs, they are just... it's just... he's just... Ok... ok... Infatuation - this is serious baby making music. Or maybe it is just for me. Unf... lots of unf (and the video is chalked full of hot pics of my man).  Shiver - I love this song live more then anything. I have the live version on my iPod because just the image of his hands on the guitar really melts my butter.  And of course my all time favorite song of theirs, Sunday Morning.  *sigh*  I guess this is all dedicated to my man Adam. Oh how I love thee...

And last on this list is not dedications really either. It's the songs that I roll the windows down and blast, sing at the top of my lungs unashamed because these songs deserve it. Love is a Battlefield by Pat Benatar, In These Arms by Bon Jovi, What It Takes by Aerosmith, and of course, every iPod should have this on it, I'm On A Boat by Lonely Island (explicit version, of course!)

In DJ's voice: And that concludes the dedications for today. I hope you are all filled with love and remember, love--and music--is what makes this world go round. Have a good night kiddies!

Random Thoughts Monday

Ok, so it's Tuesday. But everyday is Monday to me....  *clears throat*


The word of the week in this house is respect. R-E-S-P-E-C-T. Find out what it means to me... yes, please. Let me say that again... Find out what it means TO ME.
Bitter, party of one.

**********

MTV is now 30 years old. Thirty years old!!!  I remember when it first came on television. I was 7. (Look at that, she can do math!)  It was such a big deal to sneak into the living room and turn it on when my parents weren't paying attention. Because rock music was of the devil...  Ok, not really. My parents could care less. But my brother and I used to think we were doing something bad watching it. Nowadays, you are doing something bad watching it... really... where is the music? The best show on there right now (in my opinion only, of course) is "Silent Library".  But remember the good old days? No? Me either. Until my husband showed me this...

My psyche split in two... I wanted to sing the song and dance around but I couldn't get up from the computer because my body was convulsing with laughter. Ah, the good ol' days.
*Oh, hey... you dropped this song. It fell out of your head. Let me put it back in so you can go crazy for another 2 years!*

**********

You know what is from the devil? World of Warcraft. I know I said this before but I'm going to give a distinct reason why. World of Warcraft, or as I'm going to refer to is as WoW, is an MMORPG. I have no idea what MMO means, but I'm pretty sure RPG means role playing game. And because it's a role playing game, the world of Azeroth is chalked full of pimply faced teenagers and fat fingered loners who still live in their mom's basement who use this as an outlet for their asshole attitude and behavior. I can't stand those people who have to hide behind a stupid avatar... Don't take it out on me if you're online after your bedtime and your mom is threatening to unplug your computer.  It's little assholes like that that take away the fun I used to have playing the game. WoW is now reduced to a OPG (one-player game) that I use as an instant messenger with my best friend. I would give it all up but... I get to kill things. Moonfire that, bitches!

**********

That's as random as my thoughts have gotten me recently. Home life has been sucky and I'm trying to stay positive but it's not working. I've been writing a lot to escape. Remember I said before I wrote a whole novel? Well, I've written two actually. The first one is pretty much done. I've been pounding out the second one, editing again and again. The second one was written in so many pieces I've wanted to bring it all together into an actual story that I hope someday someone would want to read. But unfortunately my creative process is somewhat unique--meaning that I really don't want to discuss what I'm writing while I'm writing and I will fucking shiv you in the gut if you read over my shoulder. I'm a perfectionist with my writing so I really don't want anyone reading it until I feel it's perfect.

Um,what about this blog? It's far from perfect...

Did I tell you I'm not afraid to shiv you in the gut oh bloggy conscious??