Dance, Dance - We're Falling Apart to Half-Time...

Here is the third pic I took with the new cam - that is a lake out in the distance...click to enlarge- there are enough pixels - I love being able to say that!


Well, the children are fine now. Of course. They are back to their tattling, their tormenting, and their brawling ways. Great. I imagine that considering the alternatives, I would much rather be sending them to opposite corners rather than visiting them in the hospital.

I spent so much time alone with small children yesterday that I had the great opportunity to read and read and read some more blogs - I think I may be an addict. Unfortunately, I also had the opportunity to experience what Jock is talking about regarding comments. Except - some BlogSpots say that the comment didn't take - then I try again - then it doesn't take again - I give up, go back later, and D*MN if the comments didn't ALL show up. Not a good way to make new friends!

I am on my way to Fort Collins to a concert at the Aggie, and some drinks downtown. No, I am not taking my new camera - my little HP has been relegated to "concertcamera only status". I don't think that camera shop in NH will send me a new D70 if I drop it now...I may have used up my only mulligan in that department.

Have a great night, all!

different focus towards the lake...isn't that an amazing view? *sigh*

Cough Hack Snort Sniffle Whine

Ugh...the kiddo's are sick today. My middle child has a fever of 102.5 - has been running it since yesterday. Although he went to the school nurse twice, they were not able to get ahold of me and so the poor baby spent the afternoon sleeping in her office. That makes me feel like such a bad mommy. My youngest has a cough that sounds like a seal - it is his normal cough for a simple cold, but it raises quite the alarm with school districts as it sounds like whooping cough.

So I called in to work today so I could stay home and take care of them. THAT makes me feel like a bad employee...

I never was very sympathetic when my staff would call in to say they were home with sick babies. Remembering all the times I rolled my eyes while talking to them on the phone makes me feel like a bad employer and friend...

I am angry at the J-Man because he flat out refused to be the one to stay home. Some important project with a deadline, blahblahblah. I am frustrated with my extended family who tells me to "just call if you ever need me!" 'cause that apparently has stipulations. My anger and frustration with other people just because I am the one to stay home to care for my family makes me feel like a bad PERSON.

So, lets recap. One kid with a high fever, one with a scary sounding cough, and me with a case of the bad's. This is going to be a great day.

Black Hole Sun, Won't You Come

Tonight I got to talk to TWO of my closest friends in the whole d*mn world. I am funny that way - my dearest friends are people who you can not speak with for days/weeks/months and yet pick up exactly where you left off, and not feel guilty for not communicating enough. I can't do the whole "best friend" thing. Can't even call anyone my "best friend" - it makes me feel obligated and I end up hating them. Not something I like about myself, but it is better to recognize the truth rather than try to change to be someone I am not.

You all know Niel - she's my girl. An old soul who teaches me history and compassion for humanity, yet goes to loudsmashingmoshingfreakshows of concerts with me just 'cause she loves me that much. She doesn't even know the music - just goes because I want to. When she calls to tell me about her day or just to get some Mama T Time she has a way of making me feel like ... like I am needed. Fun. Wise. Loved. Important. Like I still exist...even though I have been gone from my Kenny's Staff for over 8 months now. I am a better wife, mother, friend and employee because I have a Niel in my life.

My other friend Kelli started out as my daycare provider when Taylor was a baby. When Taylor began pre-school, we continued our friendship over the phone. I kid you not, I have seen her maybe 10 times in the last 10 years...and still, I need her so. (Sad part is that she lives 12 miles away...count 'em...12, and I never see her.) Hours upon hours have been spent discussing hopes and dreams and frustrations with husbands (J-Man still calls Kelli when things need translation...she speaks his language and can talk him down from the roof, and likewise, I understand her Guy better than she does.) children, careers, religion, money, past lives and all of their victories and shaming moments, personal and social psychology. We truly have an amazing repertoire - nothing is off limits.

Except me being this crazy.

How can she be older than I am and not understand this ...place...that I am in? How can she not feel the pressure, the growling need, the gnawing to LIVE...to keep moving, to make a difference in our lifetime? What are the words I can use to describe the desperation I feel? She tries to make sense of me, but cannot grasp the concept that I feel like everyone around me is fading away in front of the TV or dying, drowning in their apathy towards life - and taking me with them!

I am at a loss for words. Perhaps it is a word choice itself that is causing the inability to find commiseration.

Or perhaps I am crazy in an original, new and undocumented way.

Nah. ;)

TGIS

I am at my desk, huddled over my coffee with a huge black sweatshirt wrapped around me...teeth chattering and fingers a little numb. I don't know if it is just REALLY cold in here or if I am getting the flu - or just really tired. And hungover. Whatever it is, I think the temperature has slowed my brain activity as well.

We had a get-together (see: a house party with people my age!) at my Q-friend Joanne's last night. Our guest of honor was a girl from NE that we met online at the Quitnet - Courtne. (Turns out her real name is Brenda, but it is too late for us to call her that. She will always be Courtne to us.)

I must interject here and say that if you had told me a year and 1/2 ago that I would meet and make part of my real life sooo many people from the internet, I would have thought you insane. But real they are, and they have done nothing but enhance and enrich my 3D life. I feel very fortunate!

Anyway, meeting Courtne face to face for the first time was awesome! I am hoping that those of us who went back to smoking did not cause her or Jim to experience any bad exsmokers' urges to light up. Since we began the night at 6 or so yesterday and didn't end it until 430 this morning, I am thinking the cloud of polution could have been monstrous. Ugh.

Courtne's DH made us each a pair of Beer Goggles - safety glasses with beer cans riveted to the lenses...they turned out very cute! He included a CD of the Beer Goggles song in with the present. I am not trying to be funny when I say that I have never heard that song. And it is okay if I don't hear it again!

Many plates of food, glasses of wine and pictures later, we decided to go dancing at Patrick's. Live music and CarBombs - a guaranteed good time. I danced my a** off. It was a shame they had to kick us out so that they could close down the joint...

I also did some drunken txting, some philosophical rambling, some very immodest wardrobe changing...and some recognizing that I was never going to be able to drive my car home just to be there before Jerry woke up. But I really wanted to.

Instead, we all passed out on air mattresses set up throughout the house. That's right. I attended an adult slumber party! And you know what? It was just like I remembered from being a kid. Giggling all night and then waking up groggy and not feeling all that well...ugh. I was actually better off than most of us - I was not puking. But my head was trying to kill me, and my eyes couldn't stabilize on one thing for very long. That made for a very long road trip home to my husband.

Guess what? He wasn't mad at me at all. I am very proud of him. Things are looking up again, and I appreciate that. And hooray for the Q, my Q-net buddies, Joanne and her followers, Nikon Camera Corporation, Guinnes, Verizon Phones and Service, Jaegermeister, Patrick's, the Cute Little Boy that kept asking me to dance, Live Music, Soul Train, Ambrosia Cake at 330 A.M., Bailey's Irish Cream, Taxi Cabs, Toll Roads, Excedrine, and Flip-Flops.
Hooray I say! ;)

Now if I could just stop shivering...

A Bit Myopic...

The Banner Bistro Staff

I can't see without my glasses or my contacts. Oh, I am not blind...I just see fuzz around all objects and I definitely can't read anything, including the clock on my husband's side of the bed. (I am not allowed to have a clock on my side of the bed because I hit snooze before I actually wake up. Makes for bad, late days, that habit.)

Yesterday I practiced my normal routine of showering, lotioning and then preparing to put in my contacts. Only - I couldn't find the lens-holding case ANYwhere. I looked on the floor. Behind the toilet. In the bathroom trash. In all the drawers. Under the sink. Branching out into the living room, I looked under the buffet. The china cabinet. The entertainment armoir. The couch and chair. I begged the children to PLEASE tell mommy if they were just playing a joke and they had my contacts secreted away some place. I tried to bribe the cat ( she likes to steal objects and bat them around into irretrievable places, like under the oven...or J's shoes...ewww) to show me where she put them. I searched the kitchen, my bedroom, I even questioned my sanity (Do I now walk in my sleep and steal my own contacts?), I called my husband at work...they were just nowhere. NOwhere! Which meant I had to wear my glasses to work.

My staff is well aware that when I wear my glasses to work it usually means that I have been out all night, and cannot get my eyeball to accept any foreign objects. They also know that their day will be tense as my grouchiness tends to be all-enveloping. I had a difficult time convincing them that my glasses were not an indication of a stressfull day ahead. Especially because I felt very stressed! WHERE were my contacts?!

Drew suggested I had a poltergiest. I decided that if that were indeed the case, after a call to my eye doctor I would also call a realtor. I don't need a playful ghost stealing my sh*t!

Jerry suggested that the cat knocked them into the toilet, and one of the kids flushed them down. I thought that was quite a long shot. Flushing toilets is not one of the kids' strong points.

Anne just nodded and smiled knowingly and said, "By this time tomorrow, you will have found them and all will be well." That gave me the shivers...she seemed so confident. And spooky.

I resumed the hunt when I got home from work, loudly complaining about my family's obvious lack of concern that I COULD NOT FIND MY CONTACTS! Sighing condescendingly, Jerry told me to recount word for word what I had done the night before. (Regarding my lenses, of course...the children were listening...)

• I finished off my glass of wine.
• poured a little more wine.
• Washed my hands.
• Took out my lenses.
• Put them in their holding case.
• Got out my glasses case - removed my glasses.
• Sipped my wine.
  
• Placed glasses on my face, and put contacts...in...my...glasses....case....ohmygawd.

Yep. Since I had never had a reason to put my spectacles away for the day, I never even opened up the case, and of course, when I ran into the bathroom to check, there were my contacts nestled ohsolovingly in the silk lining where my glasses usually rest.

Anne was right, btw... and that is still spooky.

I am having more wine right now - I might have another funny story to tell you tomorrow if all goes according to preset trending.

OOOoooops. *sigh*

First off, I would just like to say that my world has gone batty. Bonkers. Crazy. Freakin' unbelievable. Although I am very happy to have the children in school, the amount of stress incurred by trying to meet buses, sign all paperwork, remember what time each child is doing what, and making sure each child actually has shoes on before leaving the house is making my head throb. I have a job, fgs! How do other mommies DO this?! I believe I will have another glass of wine before continuing...

Okay. Better now.

Lake Winnipocket (sp?)

Here is the lake I float around on when visiting mom. Just hours of me and the fish and the sun...it really is heaven.

Thursday of my vacation started out just that way - floating. First on my back for an hour or so, and then I layed on my belly. Had to take off the sunglasses so that I could lay comfortably, of course. There really aren't very many places to put your glasses when you are out in the middle of a lake on an airraft, so I put them next to my head where they were sure to be safe. Only I didn't make allowances for a rapid movement of my arm to shoo away the dragonfly that had landed on my leg...yeah...the glasses went to the bottom of the lake. And they were my favorite, too. I was ohsosad...

When I finally came in from all the floating and sighing and whimpering, I was surprised to hear that I was going to Town for a random errand - an errand that was sure to take me near a Target. (Don't all errands take you to or near a Target Store?) After a long and wind-y drive through the forests, we emerged in some sort of shopping center that indeed have the store I needed the most. And a Circuit City. Which is apparently where my mom's errand was to be completed. That lady marched right in the door, straight to the camera section, and very cooly announced, "I will take a Nikon D70, please."

Whaaa? Knowing that she already had that model, I was confused and fascinated by her indulgence.

"We don't actually have that model, ma'am. The D80 has arrived, and we are all out of the one you are referring to. And the D80 is on sale! One thousand dollars...same price as the D70..." and that is where my comprehension level failed me.

One thousand dollars? Fgs.

"No thank you," mom replied, "I want a D70. Will you please check with your other stores to make sure there isn't one in inventory?" While one clerk complied with her wishes, the other tried to sell her a D50! (Silly boy. They don't know my mom.)

After finding out that the inventory was indeed depleted, my mother marched me across the street to a mall and repeated the same routine at a camera shop. And, to her glee, they did indeed have the D70.

Which it turns out - she was buying for me.

Can you believe this? For me. ME! Ohmygawd...me...

Everyone in the shop was so excited for me, and made a giant show of the "taking ownership of the new camera" ritual. The salesgirl put on the strap, placed it around my neck, and wished us good and happy picture taking - the perfect culmination to an amazing surprise.

Walking outside with my $1000.00 camera was like entering the world anew - so many pics to take, so little time! Only... as I took my first step into the parking lot my beautiful, amazing, fantastic camera fell right off my neck. Dropped- and shattered on the asphalt with a sickenly metallic sound. Broke. Done. Irretrievable. Complete devestation. Scr*w me in the head - I just broke the camera my mother bought me and I have had it less than 20 minutes...

Mumbling and sighing incoherently, I was led/pushed back into the mall - back into the store where my fantastic adventure had begun only moments before. Only to be ended by this senseless tragedy. "Oh no!", the salesperson said, "What HAPPENED?". I was apparently unintelligeble at this point, but somehow the tragedy was explained sufficiently enough for her to say - much to my amazement - "Oh, honey. Let me get you a new one. That was completely my fault because I put the strap on wrong, I bet." Whaaaa?


That camera store gave me a brand new camera, no questions asked, no paperwork involved, no exchanged exasperated looks...a brand new camera. With the strap on correctly.

And then I went and got new sunglasses.

WOOHOOO! Thanks mom! ;)

The Ocean, She Rules Me...

Still talking about vacation here, folks. I am all about living in the moment, but oh-so-very-cool events must be documented thoroughly. And we have only covered the Airport, Security, FBI/CIA/whoever they were, and Airplanes. We must move on quickly before I forget the exact details and start making up my own eclectic timeline.

Our plane landed in Boston, MA on Tuesday morning. That is the last thing I know about Tuesday. I slept. All. Freaking. Day. And night. Aaaargh!

Now WEDnesday - that was a great day! Wednesday is the day that my beloved step-father Bob drove me to Manchester, NH to meet my internet friend Terri2005 from the Quitnet. I have corresponded with her daily for almost a year and a half either by Email, Qmail or txt mssge. I have even seen pics of her and her family on the blog scene - but meeting in person was aMAZing!
She and Kathie were delightful company, and we shared a great lunch giggling and talking random things...I adore her. Terri is much littler than I imagined - shorter than ME, anyway. Her personality online is very expansive and gregarious so I really expected to meet someone about 6 foot tall. So much wonderfulness in a petite little person...how great is it to actually meet someone for the first time who lives clear across the country and feel like you have known them your whole life?! Unbelievable...

Mom & Bob met us after lunch and then began the traditional trek to the ocean. I am partial to Rye Beach - have to go there every time we get back East. So magical...so mystical...I have a reverent awe of that spot in the vast world. I actually cried the first time I arrived there - sobbed even. The children frolicked and the adults walked the beach, just soaking in the sun, the wildlife, and the soul altering sound of the waves. I listened with great interest to Mom and Bob discuss the feasibility of purchasing a house in the vicinity. If anyone could make that happen, it would be my mother! And I think I would move right in. Even if it meant living in the closet...

* I am trying to post a pic of the babies and I playing in the waves right now...BlogSpot isn't letting me. I swear there are no thongs. Whatever.*

I love watching the children trying to absorb the greatness of the Ocean, drinking in their fascination with the beach sand, sea shells, and the various live treasures that they insisted I hold on to for them. Do they feel the same spiritual connection I do? Do they hear the same timeless sounds that echo in my ears for days after visiting? Does their heart pound when they smell the lush green and clear blue air? (Don't ask me how air has color. It just does.)

After a nice dinner at Ray's Lobster Station, our dreams were full of rolling waves and gently rocking boats...Good Lord, I can't wait to get there again.

Honey, I'm Home...

Wow...what a vacation!

I wanted to start off telling you about Airports and Airplanes. Mostly because I am so fascinated with how people miss their flights and what that must do to your nervous system. Not to mention your wallet.

This is what the sky looked like on the way TO the Airport last week, by the way. (If you are wondering why I am capitalizing the two words starting with Air, it is simply because I have learned that Airports and Airplanes must be shown huuuge respect in order for everything to go smoothly. Don't p*ss off the Air-words.)

Because we fly jetBlue, our flights back East are always very late at night. Because my husband usually drops us off at the Airport, we have to go very early so he can get home and get to bed at a decent hour. Which leaves us in the wind for a few enjoyable hours - hours spent shopping, eating, reading, and people watching. Oh. And getting through Security. (Another word to capitalize...)

Now remember, I have three children to entertain: this means going up and down the escalator one million times, TCBY at an ungodly hour, pleas for Gatorade and many trips to the potty. Although we got through security just fine and got to our concourse just fine and checked in our luggage just fine - I was completely frazzled when we learned that our flight was an hour behind schedule. Soooo...I decided that I would do a very logical thing: I would go have a smoke. I would simply go back out the way I came and it would kill a few minutes and save the children from certain death-by-strangulation. Besides, it would be several hours before I could afford myself that luxury again.

My time outside was wonderful. And then I got a txt from my daughter: The plane had arrived after all, and they would be boarding in 20 minutes. (Here is where I learn how stressful it is to be late for a flight.) The mad dash back inside must have been comical, because I got pulled out of line in security and shown to my own private screener...ohmygawd.

First thing she asks me is, "Have you been here before?".

I replied that I had, but had foolishly stepped outside for a smoke and needed to pass through quickly if possible. Smiling, (evil-like, now that I look back on it) she told me to enter this small plexi-glass booth and stand very still. Which I did. And then she SHOT me with SEVERAL puffs of rapid fire air...I swear I thought I had been killed. I screamed of course, and hit the ground which is exactly what you are supposed to do when being shot.

Laughingly, (smirking, really) the Security Demon told me to come on out...to which I shrieked something like,"You really should tell a body before you do something like that!".

"Dear, you told me you had been here before!" she giggled.

I tried hard not to mumble and pee my pants simultaneously while explaining that I had been through the NICE Security Line - the only crime I had committed to deserve this was going out for a smoke! To which she replied, "Guess you won't do THAT again, huh?". Ugh.

Needless to say, it was some shaky legs that carried me back to the terminal where I had just enough time to take the kids potty once more, and then collapse on our seats in the Airplane. Which was pretty close to departing on time...Until the steward noticed that the two guys DIRECTLY behind me were almost unconscious. (Apparently, they went to the bar instead of going out for a smoke.)

Deciding that it was too dangerous to leave the drunkards in the aisle reserved for quick escape in case of Aircraft Malfunction, they asked them to switch seats with two lovely ladies up front. And switch they did. Which should have fixed everything. Except for the ladies popped right back up again, demanding their original seats back. Unbeknownst to all, the gentlemen had vomited on the floor...and the seats...and on the Airsick Bag. So of course, the Airline Staff asked them to exit the Airplane and take a later flight when they were sure to feel much better. So, leave they did...but not before assaulting the First Officer on their way off the plane! Whaaa?!

It seems that assault on an Airplane is a Federal Offense - requiring a visit from the FBI or the CIA or whoever it is that takes 1 1/2 hours to arrive in their unmarked cars to haul drunk b*stards to the pokey.

Our Airplane left the tarmac three hours later than planned. I could have smoked a whole damn pack by then.

Oh, by the way... I tried the whole leave-the-terminal-and-brave-Security-again-to-have-a-smoke in New York on the way home, too. With much calmer results. Our plane was 15 minutes early arriving home.

God Bless Airplanes and Airports and Security. And also the FBI/CIA/IRS/whoever it is...

...Leaving On A Jet Plane...

I took this picture at Rye Beach in New Hampshire. It was my first visit there - 2003. When I leave it hanging on my desk I suffer from tremendous wanderlust...
The kids and I are going back East tomorrow night for a week. I am overwhelmingly excited, not only to see the sights again, but to hang with my mom and to experience the world through her magical eyes. Even the color of things are different when I am with her.
Right now, I am trying to wrap things up in a manner that completes the minimal amount of what needs to be done. I think this is the first time I have failed miserably in completing a monumental task - one that I had started anyway. It will still be here when I get home. Ugh. Not going to think about that right now...
I think I already left the state, with or without a jetplane!

I Will Get To It Tomorrow, I Promise

Look what I found! A whole bunch of CD's that I would put off listening to that deal with procrastination! The answer would surely lie here, folks...for only $550 (or so). Putting things off seems to be an expensive problem.


I am procrastinating, for sure. So many things to do...things I don't wanna do...laundry, yardwork, paperwork, dishes, etc. So what have I accomplished? I have pinpointed everywhere that Dropping Daylight will be playing with Mercy Fall in a 500 mile radius in the next two months (nowhere I can go...). I have mapped out meeting places in NH for me and a 2D friend from the Quitnet - I now know that HWY 93 goes through Concord, and that Manchester is a long way away from anywhere I know anything about. I also checked the future temperature for the beach, inland and generally all of New England so that I know what to pack. IF I ever start packing. I went to see a band I have never heard of just because we were on the VIP list and did not have to pay $20 ea. to get in. (We left after two songs. Too hot, too smelly, too many people who believe in pungent armpit hair and dredlocks and entire wardrobes of hemp, and who needed to stand really close together to get the full experience...ewww. Turns out it was a Grateful Dead cover band. Good stuff for sure, but omg...the funk of humanity was horrendous.)

Here are the things I need to get accomplished in the next 48 hours.

• Clean my house
• do that stupid paperwork
• Pack- four people, eight days
• Work a catering for a wedding tonight
• Finish up School Clothes Shopping
• Groceries
• Bank
• Sleep?

It isn't so much about what needs to be done, as how it speaks to my propensity for leaving everything to the very last minute. It drives me crazy...
Wish me luck. Gonna go start something...;)

We're Not In Kansas Anymore...

At my little Bistro, alot of money changes hands everyday and I am always on the lookout for counterfeit bills. I find myself a little suspicious of the family that comes in two or three times in one day with a fresh $100.00 bill every time they pay a $13.00 (or so) ticket...claiming that to be the smallest denomination they have, although I know I have given them at least 6 $20's in the previous hours. 'Tis not my place to search the wallets and purses, but I just think that scenario is a little unlikely! I have been known to miss, however, a Canadian penny or some other coin from a random country.

Today I pulled a complete bonehead.

While counting the quarters and fussing to myself about having no $1's and $5's thanks to TheOneHundredDollarBill Family, I came across an odd and unfamiliar coin. Pulling at my hair a little and gesturing wildly with my other hand, I moaned,"Now, WHO took the coin from Kansas?!!!"

Oh, trust me. There are many, many more terrimoments. Just. Like. That.