It's the little things

When I'm down--and as you know I've been pretty far down--it's the little things that make me smile. They make me smile, that make me safe, they make me laugh out loud so hard and for so long that my eyes are watering so bad I can't see anymore. For my own sake, and anyone else who happens to stumble upon me and needs a little pick me up, I'm making a list of 5 things that will always--and I do mean always--get me out of a slump.

1. Adam Levine. I mean, come on. You knew this was coming. That man (and that band too) makes me happy. I could look at pictures all day and swoon but sometimes I need something more. That's when I turn to You Tube. And without fail, this is always my go-to vid of him. It makes me giggle; it makes me swoon; it reminds me all over again just why I crush so hard on this man.

It's a 3 1/2 minute video. If you want the best part, jump to the 2:00 mark. Just sayin'... Really, just sayin' it because you need to fast foward to that point. Do it. Trust me.

Side comment: The maker if this vid is a super-duper uber fan of Maroon 5. I bow to her fan-ship greatness. (Fan-ship. It's a word, I swear.)

And I have to add this little diddy too. It's one of my favorite songs right now--the whole song, I swear. I like the metaphors they use (metaphors? is that right?) and of course I like the chorus. Uh, hum.
The best part may or may not start at around 2:38. You may, or may not want to skip to that part. But I'm warning you, if you do, you are missing a really good song.

2. My So-Called Life.

Pic courtesy of wallpapergate.com

I. GOT. THIS. SHOW. I got it. I mean... I got it. When this first debuted back in the 90's, I related so well to Angela Chase it wasn't even funny. I watched it while it was one network television for a year and then I watched every single rerun whenever it was run, I think it was MTV (not 100% sure though). I loved this show. And yes, I loved Jordan Catalano. He was the epitome of hotness for me: gorgeous, aloof, cool, gorgeous... I loved how he liked Angela but was too scared to admit it to anyone including himself. I loved how Angela was obsessed with him because I could totally relate. One of my alltime favorite lines from this show is when Angela was talking to Rayanne and Rickie about him:

Rayanne: I think part of him is partly interested in you. Definitely. I mean, he’s got other things on his mind.

Angela: But that’s the part that’s so unfair. I have nothing else on my mind. How come I have to be the one sitting around analyzing him in like microscopic detail, and he gets to be the one with other things on his mind.

Rickie: That is deep.

There is so many other amazing things about this show and since they've put the series on Netflix I've watched it over and over again. But now I'm a parent so I'm watching this show with whole new eyes--from the parents perspective. It just never gets old. And yes... Jordan Catalano is still the heartthrob he used to be (did I just use the word heartthrob? Gosh I'm old!) but I want to know what Brian Krakow is doing now. Probably running Microsoft, or Google, or Facebook...

3. Epic Red Underroos. Yes, I said it. And yes, I'm posting that picture.

Back in the spring of 2009 a little movie called "Twilight" came out on DVD. I watched it and thought, gee, that Edward guy looks familiar. Where do I know him from? Oh, and is he high? He looks high. How does his hair do that? How old is he? Why am I finding him attractive? Of course this is right when the now infamous Robert Pattinson really broke onto the scene and he was everywhere. And I mean EVERYWHERE. Poor guy. My friend and I were Googling him one night that summer and we came across this picture. We laughed hysterically and cried so hard from laughing--so hard our sides, stomach and faces hurt so bad.This became known as the "epic red underroos" pic. And whenever we'd need a laugh, we'd email each other this picture. This friend must have 200 text messages with this picture in them. It just never gets old. And even as I type this I'm smiling because I see the picture in my pereferrial vision and it still makes me giggle.

Obviously it's photoshopped. But that's what's so funny about it. Who would take the time to photoshop this? I mean, if you're going to photoshop something make it good, and I'm real good and dirty. You know... duuurrrttttteeeeeee..... *wink wink nudge nudge*

2. That Thing You Do!

Have you seen this movie? Please tell me you have because it's totally and completely awesome. It was written, directed and semi-starred Tom Hanks. Tom Hanks even wrote the music for the movie! This movie always pulls me out of any blahs I'm in. This has been my go-to movie for any bouts of depression I've had for years. And you think I'm exaggerating, I'm not. Years and years ago (1997-that was years ago) I flipped out, ran away from home--granted I was living on my own with a roommate but I still ran away from my friends, they didn't know where I went--ended up at a Red Lion hotel room, bawling my eyes out. The next morning I bought the soundtrack to this movie and it was like I pulled a 180. It's such a feel good movie with such good dialogue I can't even begin to express how wonderful I think the whole movie is. Seriously... watch this movie if you haven't. I'm going to go watch it today. I need to watch this today!

1. Friends

Friends are always good to have when you're down in the dumps. But that's not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about "Friends" the show. Do I really need to describe why this show is fabulous? I can watch every episode of this show over and over again and find something in each one that I will quote incessantly to the point my friends and family with beg me to shut the hell up. These are my favorites, I quote these lines all the time. ALL. THE. TIME.

(For some reason I can put the links on here, so clicky for your enjoyment)

Hi, I'm Chandler could I be wearing anymore clothes?

The One with the Rumor aka Thanksgiving with Brad Pitt

They don't know that we know that they know  Quite possibly the best scene EVER!

Rachel's trifle

Seriously, I could list Friends episodes all day long. So much good stuff. I'm never in a bad mood after I've watched a Friends episode. They were genius.


So there it is. I've given myself 5 ways to get out of my slump and after reviewing it all and writing it all down I think it's helped--a lot. Now I have to go plant the seed in my husbands head that I must have the complete series of Friends on DVD one more time because after 3 years, that seed still isn't implanted. Tells you how thick headed he is.

Edit: After re-reading this I noticed my numbering is off. And instead of renumbering it correctly, I'm going to leave it. Yes. I'm leaving it. Seems appropriate for my state of mind.

Sorry for any typing/grammatical errors. I'm going on pure adrenaline and caffeine this morning. And you can say it, how is that different then any other day? It's not, my friend. It's not. 

Stop and Stare

I'm not where I want to be and yet, I'm not sure where I should be.

I'm still down in the hole, but dammit, at least there is music to entertain me and to let me know I'm not the only one feeling the way I do.

OneRepublic "Stop and Stare"

This town is colder now, I think it's sick of us
It's time to make our move, I'm shaking off the rust
I've got my heart set on anywhere but here
I'm staring down myself, counting up the years
Steady hands, just take the wheel...
And every glance is killing me
Time to make one last appeal... for the life I lead

Stop and stare
I think I'm moving but I go nowhere
Yeah I know that everyone gets scared
But I've become what I can't be, oh
Stop and stare
You start to wonder why you're here not there
And you'd give anything to get what's fair
But fair ain't what you really need
Oh, can you see what I see

They're trying to come back, all my senses push
Untie the weight bags, I never thought I could...
Steady feet, don't fail me now
Gonna run till you can't walk
Something pulls my focus out
And I'm standing down...

Stop and stare
I think I'm moving but I go nowhere
Yeah I know that everyone gets scared
But I've become what I can't be, oh
Stop and stare
You start to wonder why you're here not there
And you'd give anything to get what's fair
But fair ain't what you really need
Oh, you don't need

What you need, what you need...

Stop and stare
I think I'm moving but I go nowhere
Yeah I know that everyone gets scared
But I've become what I can't be
Oh, do you see what I see...

I think he's singing to me. I think he took x-ray glasses and managed to look into my soul and then said, "She needs to hear this song. I feel ya, baby. I feel ya."

And this will be my song until there's a song that says "I know you are beat down and feel like a fail mom, wife and friend. I know you want to be someone else, someone who enjoys her life and is happy most the time and can handle the shit that slung at you. I know you want to make a change but just don't know how to do it. It's ok, I'll help you."

I think there's a Grammy in there somewhere, right?

Credit: "Stop and Stare" is from OneRepublic's album "Dreaming Out Loud".

This melancholy tastes bad, send it back.

I've had bouts of insomnia that really screwed with my brain. Then I had a dose of happy excitement that I thought kicked the insomnia to the curb. Now the melancholy has set in. This is what I absolutely hate about myself. It's so easy for me to get to this place. I don't want it. I'm sending it back.

Let's back up...

I was suffering from some extreme insomnia. It was rough. I wasn't sure which end was up, when the day started and when it ended. I felt like a newborn with it's schedule all messed up. But at least newborns got to nap all through out the day. Instead I had to stay up and tend to my family. My utter exhaustion hit me on the worse day possible--I was doing a benefit walk and was supposed to be social and happy all day but instead I was a huge bump on the log. Thankfully my friends understood. But there was a light at the end of the tunnel. I was going to have guests in a week so I had to shift into gear, get the house ready for guests and get my shit done.

Because my house is never guest ready. I'm pretty much live in a pig sty. But I've already discussed that.

Thankfully, school started at this time forcing me to get my shit together. I was up at 6am with the kids, running them too and from school and practically hosing this house down from the dog and kid and husband stench. (If you have all three, you know what I mean!) My insomnia was taken care of--or so it seemed. I was sleeping at night, and waking up somewhat happy during the day. One of my best friends was here visiting with her husband, why wouldn't I be ecstatic about that?

I rode that high for a few days. Then the pinnacle happened... I saw my man--you know, Adam Levine from Maroon 5? I might have mentioned him before--in concert. It was something I've been waiting for for about 4 1/2 months. Yes, Four And A Half Long Months. I planned this trip to the concert for so long. I researched hotels in the area, I thought about my outfit, my shoes, my hair, the car I'm going to drive (take the Mazda that's better on gas or my comfy SUV with the better stereo?). I was a woman on a planning mission.

Next thing it was the day after the concert, my best friend was going home and I was left with my life as I knew it before. But wait, not as I knew it before because now I have nothing to look forward to. I have nothing on the horizon. Every spare moment I had before I spent anticipating and planning and re-planning this whole concert trip. Now it was over, what did I have left?

Inner voice: Oh geez, maybe your kids, your husband, your archetypal life?

Um, yea... fuck you inner voice.

My friend left and since I've slipped into a near coma. All I want to do is sleep. I feel like my body was hit by a Mack truck, drug 300 miles then catapulted back home. This melancholy crap isn't mental it's physical too. I hate it. And not only is it the lack of anything on the horizon, suddenly it's everything already on my plate. My kids are out of control and I know it's all my fault. I'm a horrible, impatient mother. My husband isn't satisfied because well... I don't feel like satisfying his needs. And I'm not talking sexually. He's still in major pain from his shoulder surgery months ago and all he wants is a little sympathy from me--a little bit of nurturing--and I refuse to give it. He's a grown man! He can take care of himself. I've got myself and two maniacal kids to nurture. I can't do it all. Of course that's a whole other can a worms I'm not going to open right now.

You see, it's all a bunch of bull shit. Everything I'm deal with should be easily wiped away if I just pulled myself up from my boot straps (where the hell did that saying come from? The only strap on my boots is the Doc Marten tag on the back of the boot. Am I suppoed to pull myself up with that? Um, yea, not gonna happen!).  The person who said that obviously had motivation and joy in their lives to push them further along. He (or she, who knows) didn't have bouts with depression, the kind that knock you on your ass and you aren't sure what hit your or how the hell your going to get back up. Because no boot strap is going to help you if you are deep in a hole. You need a lifeline thrown to you to help you out. It might take a while but you need that person to be there, holding it patiently.

Lucky for me, I have that person who's going to always be there holding that lifeline out to me. I have others who give me boosts along the way--and pretty hefty boosts at that. But knowing I always have that lifeline...

You see, I'm scared. So scared that sometimes the hole is just too deep. And I'm scared I've fallen too far down it. I just really hope that lifeline and those boosts don't go away. I hope they know how important they are to me. I hope they know that sometimes I fall and I'm too stubborn to ask for help and sometimes I just need the comfort that they are there for me when I need them. I need them to say, "That's just Leslie. I may not understand where it all came from, but I'm going to be there for her."

...

...

Ok. I'm pulling myself up, dusting myself off and going to continue about my day. Company may be gone but the hosing of the stench still needs to be done. I mean, seriously, how can this place get so messy and stinky in just a day or two? I know it's not me! I use my special scented soaps and lotions. I smell good! It's the 5 other occupants in this house that stink this place up!



Stinker culprits #1 & #2

 Now if those faces can't make me smile, nothing can.

I apologize for any spelling and grammatical errors. I just don't have it in me to proofread. Sorry!

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...!!