My buddy, Ray tagged me in this meme thingy.
I don't usually do the meme thingy since I've been blogging long enough to know that hardly anybody reads through those things...except this one was a nice challenge so I think I'll tackle it...
"5 Reasons I Love Jesus"
Alright, one wouldn't really think it would be that hard to come up with reasons they love Jesus, right? Just go ahead and name your hubs, family, kids, whatever and WHAMO, Meme Accomplished.
Not so fast, for me. I really had to think about it.
Conversation with myself:
Nice Me: I can just write the things I'm thankful for and then...
Evil Me: Yeah, but that's stupid and easy and everyone will just fall asleep...BO-RING.
Nice Me: Well then, I'll just say that one of the reasons is that He gave me everything I have and so...
Evil Me: SNORE
Nice Me: Then what the hell should I say??? What is really going to impress people and change their lives? I have to say something totally profound or people are going to think that I don't love Jesus and that I'm just faking it!!!
Evil Me: Well, are you?
Nice Me: Uh, no. Of course not. I may not LIKE Jesus sometimes but I LOVE him, always!
Evil Me: Oh, REALLY? You DO, huh? Were you loving Him when you yelled at the kids for spilling things again? Were you loving Him when you talked behind that person's back the other day? Were you loving Him when you weren't paying attention in church but were picking at that crusty cookie stuff on your jeans?
Nice Me: Leave me alone. I don't like you anymore.
Evil Me: Were you loving Him when you just told yourself that you didn't like yourself anymore...just now...
Not-So-Nice-Me: Guess not.
Just Me: Here's why I love Jesus: He gives me at least 100 of those "God Moments" every week. I know He is with me and in my heart when I'm trying to talk to my friends. He knows all of my shameful ways and He still fills my heart with joy and proof that He loves me in the form of the kindness I am shown by my family and friends who are filled with His Spirit. He suffered and died for my sins and takes away my suffering every time. He probably had a beard and He died an old guy (hey, 33 was upper-middle-aged back then. PLUS, He's really been "alive" for eternity so that's REALLY OLD!) and you KNOW how much I love old guys!
So, these are just some of the reasons I love Jesus.
That reminded me of that song we used to sing when I went to the Lutheran summer Bible school:
Oh, how I love Jesus.
Oh, how I love Jesus.
Oh, how I love Jesus...
because He first loved meeeeeeeeeee.
Also the snacktime song:
Oooooohhhhhh, the Lord is good to me,
and so I thank the Lord;
for giving me the things I need, the sun and the rain and the apple seed the Lord is Good to meeee, amen amen amen amen amen,aaaaaaahhhhhmen.
Showing posts with label silly stuff. Show all posts
Showing posts with label silly stuff. Show all posts
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Cute Messenger
I'd just like you all to know: I'm done with snow and cold.
So...
...on YOU, Old Man Winter!!!
So...
...on YOU, Old Man Winter!!!
Friday, November 19, 2010
Seestairs, Seestairs
Around this time of year, I like to get into the holiday season by watching the classic "Christmas Movies".
Here's a short list of the Advent MUST SEEs:
How The Grinch Stole Christmas
A Charlie Brown Christmas
Miracle on 34th Street
Elf
and, of course, White Christmas
To tell you the truth, I only just watched White Christmas for the first time about 15 years ago, right around this time of year. We were living in an apartment in Monticello, and we had these neighbors, who rented a house on the other side of the parking lot. The mom was a few years older than me and was very...different from me. They had a couple of children together and their names were the first and last name of a famous musician. The man they named their kids after, happened to be a cousin of the dad of the family.
The kids played with little Trina and were very sweet, if not just a little rambunctious. The kids had very little discipline because their dad didn't work and their mom worked all the time. All in all, they were a nice family and they always had time for a visit. One day, the little girl (who was about 7 at the time) asked me if I'd watch a movie with her. She pulled out her FAVORITE tape and the whole family spazzed out when they found out I'd never watched it. The dad, especially, was aghast. "You mean you've nay-ver seen the White Christmas? Aye! It's the BES! OH! (singing in flat, out of tune voice) Seesters, seesters dare wear nehvar sohch deevoted seestairs...?" When I blankly stared at him (I mostly was just so surprised he had suddenly become so animated!), he looked at me with a "HOLY GUACAMOLE, I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU'VE NEVER SEEN THIS AWESOME MOVIE BEFORE!" look. Clearly, me never seeing this movie was something he needed to remedy so, I settled down to watch this SOUPAIR movie with the family. After about 10 minutes, the dad was asleep, snoring on the couch.
I thought the movie had REALLY bad acting but the songs were good. When the movie came to the famous "Sisters" song, I finally figured out what the Mexican dad was trying to sing and it took all the couth I could muster to not bust a gut. The dad woke up at the end of the movie, scratched his stomach and offered me a beer. He then asked what I thought of the movie. I politely declined on the beer issue, and told him I liked it very much, thank you. He eyed me, warily, and asked if I wanted to borrow it. Of course, I borrowed it and watched it again. I needed to see what it was about that film that moved this family so much. It's almost like it provoked instant happiness in this family and it was OBVIOUSLY something on which they all agreed.
I still can't figure out what is so great about that movie. The only thing that I like about it is the sisters song. I felt so sorry for Rosemary Clooney because she was such an ugly duckling compared to Vera-Ellen. When I looked up Vera-Ellen on IMDB, I saw this unfortunate paragraph at the end of her bio:
It was discovered that Vera-Ellen silently battled anorexia throughout much of the 50s before doctors had even coined the term or devised treatments. Moreover, she developed severe arthritis following her retirement and was forced to revert to dance lessons again in order to combat it. If that wasn't enough, she had to endure two failed marriages while losing her only daughter, Victoria Ellen Rothschild, to Sudden Infant Death Syndrome (SIDS) in 1963. These tragic events turned her into a virtual recluse. Little was heard for decades until it was learned that she had died of cancer in Los Angeles, California, on August 30, 1981. Less remembered today compared to several of the big stars that shared the stage with her, Vera-Ellen was a lithe and lovely presence who deserved so much more. Nevertheless, she has provided film lovers a lasting legacy and deserves to be called one of Hollywood's true dancing legends.
Whoa. No thanks. Hollywood sucks the life of the soul, doesn't it? By the way, I learned that Rosemary Clooney's son, Miguel Ferrer is the crabby boss guy on Crossing Jordan. Also, he was in Robocop. He's George Clooney's first cousin. Weird.
So, around about this time of year, every year, I watch that movie again, wonder if I'm missing something about how great it really is, wonder what ever happened to that strange family, remember the Mexican dad's rendition of the sisters song, and I giggle.
Here's a short list of the Advent MUST SEEs:
How The Grinch Stole Christmas
A Charlie Brown Christmas
Miracle on 34th Street
Elf
and, of course, White Christmas
To tell you the truth, I only just watched White Christmas for the first time about 15 years ago, right around this time of year. We were living in an apartment in Monticello, and we had these neighbors, who rented a house on the other side of the parking lot. The mom was a few years older than me and was very...different from me. They had a couple of children together and their names were the first and last name of a famous musician. The man they named their kids after, happened to be a cousin of the dad of the family.
The kids played with little Trina and were very sweet, if not just a little rambunctious. The kids had very little discipline because their dad didn't work and their mom worked all the time. All in all, they were a nice family and they always had time for a visit. One day, the little girl (who was about 7 at the time) asked me if I'd watch a movie with her. She pulled out her FAVORITE tape and the whole family spazzed out when they found out I'd never watched it. The dad, especially, was aghast. "You mean you've nay-ver seen the White Christmas? Aye! It's the BES! OH! (singing in flat, out of tune voice) Seesters, seesters dare wear nehvar sohch deevoted seestairs...?" When I blankly stared at him (I mostly was just so surprised he had suddenly become so animated!), he looked at me with a "HOLY GUACAMOLE, I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU'VE NEVER SEEN THIS AWESOME MOVIE BEFORE!" look. Clearly, me never seeing this movie was something he needed to remedy so, I settled down to watch this SOUPAIR movie with the family. After about 10 minutes, the dad was asleep, snoring on the couch.
I thought the movie had REALLY bad acting but the songs were good. When the movie came to the famous "Sisters" song, I finally figured out what the Mexican dad was trying to sing and it took all the couth I could muster to not bust a gut. The dad woke up at the end of the movie, scratched his stomach and offered me a beer. He then asked what I thought of the movie. I politely declined on the beer issue, and told him I liked it very much, thank you. He eyed me, warily, and asked if I wanted to borrow it. Of course, I borrowed it and watched it again. I needed to see what it was about that film that moved this family so much. It's almost like it provoked instant happiness in this family and it was OBVIOUSLY something on which they all agreed.
I still can't figure out what is so great about that movie. The only thing that I like about it is the sisters song. I felt so sorry for Rosemary Clooney because she was such an ugly duckling compared to Vera-Ellen. When I looked up Vera-Ellen on IMDB, I saw this unfortunate paragraph at the end of her bio:
It was discovered that Vera-Ellen silently battled anorexia throughout much of the 50s before doctors had even coined the term or devised treatments. Moreover, she developed severe arthritis following her retirement and was forced to revert to dance lessons again in order to combat it. If that wasn't enough, she had to endure two failed marriages while losing her only daughter, Victoria Ellen Rothschild, to Sudden Infant Death Syndrome (SIDS) in 1963. These tragic events turned her into a virtual recluse. Little was heard for decades until it was learned that she had died of cancer in Los Angeles, California, on August 30, 1981. Less remembered today compared to several of the big stars that shared the stage with her, Vera-Ellen was a lithe and lovely presence who deserved so much more. Nevertheless, she has provided film lovers a lasting legacy and deserves to be called one of Hollywood's true dancing legends.
Whoa. No thanks. Hollywood sucks the life of the soul, doesn't it? By the way, I learned that Rosemary Clooney's son, Miguel Ferrer is the crabby boss guy on Crossing Jordan. Also, he was in Robocop. He's George Clooney's first cousin. Weird.
So, around about this time of year, every year, I watch that movie again, wonder if I'm missing something about how great it really is, wonder what ever happened to that strange family, remember the Mexican dad's rendition of the sisters song, and I giggle.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
The Most Frivolous, Stupid Post I've Ever Posted
Prince William is engaged. I thought when he was very young and when he became a teenager that he was going to be a VERY good looking man and I always thought, "Poor, poor Prince Harry, he's so awkward and funny looking. He'll always be 'second best'."
Recent pictures of the two, however, have altered my original thinking.
Prince William is looking an awful lot like his dad. He's got that funny shaped head, goofy horse teeth, and those sharp features are seeping through.
Prince Harry is turning out to be a very handsome man.
This opinion has been confirmed by my teenage daughter and google searches of images, at all ages, of the two.
Also, Prince Charles might be suffering the effects of all of those years of royal inbreeding. He's pretty much a total nutcase these days.
The End
P.S. I will never talk about this again.
Recent pictures of the two, however, have altered my original thinking.
Prince William is looking an awful lot like his dad. He's got that funny shaped head, goofy horse teeth, and those sharp features are seeping through.
Prince Harry is turning out to be a very handsome man.
This opinion has been confirmed by my teenage daughter and google searches of images, at all ages, of the two.
Also, Prince Charles might be suffering the effects of all of those years of royal inbreeding. He's pretty much a total nutcase these days.
The End
P.S. I will never talk about this again.
Saturday, August 21, 2010
Something Different For A Change Of Pace Myself And I Have A Dream A Little Dream
There once was a man from Siam
Who ate lots of beans and Spam
Al Gore came to scold
the neighbor, he told
He forgot to recycle the can
I only re-wrote it twice. Oh yeah, I'm just that good.
Here's another one, just off the cuff:
(Jennie's twins: A Haiku)
Plural pals, sleep now
Mama waits to snuggle you
two more cute Herbst-es
But, what I started with was this:
Jennie hears two hearts
"I'll be as big as a HOUSE!"
Little stinkers laugh
I need to slow down and just get things done around here. I was hoping this weekend would be my "get the school stuff organized" weekend, but the humidity is up and the A/C is DOWN. Yikes.
Okay, going down the wrong path now so it's time to screw around again:
Doris the cat went to jail
for getting caught out in the hail
"I didn't expect
that I'd get so wet
and now, I'm hairless and pale."
Got hail-pelted cats on my mind, I guess.
Oh, here's another one for Mike:
Beer: A Haiku
(I love the title, it's so contradictory in that it's so earthy and sophisticated, all at the same time, don't you think?)
It's called a "Beer Club"
A whole bunch of microbrews
One giant headache
Of course, how could I not end this fabulous post-etry without a tribute to my beloved:
Butch was a husband I had
the kids and I called for him, "DAD?"
We looked and we looked,
could not find where he booked...
he was in the garage being bad.
Okay, that one was kind of for Mike, too.
Who ate lots of beans and Spam
Al Gore came to scold
the neighbor, he told
He forgot to recycle the can
I only re-wrote it twice. Oh yeah, I'm just that good.
Here's another one, just off the cuff:
(Jennie's twins: A Haiku)
Plural pals, sleep now
Mama waits to snuggle you
two more cute Herbst-es
But, what I started with was this:
Jennie hears two hearts
"I'll be as big as a HOUSE!"
Little stinkers laugh
I need to slow down and just get things done around here. I was hoping this weekend would be my "get the school stuff organized" weekend, but the humidity is up and the A/C is DOWN. Yikes.
Okay, going down the wrong path now so it's time to screw around again:
Doris the cat went to jail
for getting caught out in the hail
"I didn't expect
that I'd get so wet
and now, I'm hairless and pale."
Got hail-pelted cats on my mind, I guess.
Oh, here's another one for Mike:
Beer: A Haiku
(I love the title, it's so contradictory in that it's so earthy and sophisticated, all at the same time, don't you think?)
It's called a "Beer Club"
A whole bunch of microbrews
One giant headache
Of course, how could I not end this fabulous post-etry without a tribute to my beloved:
Butch was a husband I had
the kids and I called for him, "DAD?"
We looked and we looked,
could not find where he booked...
he was in the garage being bad.
Okay, that one was kind of for Mike, too.
Monday, May 10, 2010
Don't Luke At Me
No, luke at me, don't luke at me, I'm a stah, don't you knoh who I ahm?
Last year, I was nominated for the Crescat Blog Awards under the category "Most Bat Shit Crazy Blog". I did not win. (was it because of the profanity? Were my friends and family offended by the "S" word? C'mon, even if you never SAY it, you know you THINK it. Probably a LOT.) I think I should have been happy I didn't win? I sort of pride myself on my quirky thoughts and weirdness so I have to admit I was more than just a little disappointed. Especially since I changed my layout just before I even knew I was nominated for that thing and look at all the creepy bats flittering around (yeah, they're still there!). I mean, how perfect? I COULDA BEEN A CONTENDAHHHH!
Oh well, now I've been nominated in a different category. I don't think I'll solicit votes this time. I want it all to be fair and square. (scroll down to the last category called: Blog That Needs to be Updated More Often) I want to win on my own merit as a blog that millions of people wish was updated more often because of the supreme wit, intelligent subjects, laugh-your-butt-off humor, etc. that I offer each time I deign to press my delicate fingers against the keys to create such bloggems as THIS, THIS, THIS, and don't forget, THIS ONE. For fairness' sake, I have to harken back to THIS ONE. Don't say I never gave ya nothin.
(P.S. Here is one of my very favorite posts with lots and lots of pictures of a cute baby.)
I'm totally NOT posting these pictures and links to garner more votes. I would never use my beautiful and not-at-all-goofy-looking offspring in a cheap, desperate attempt to get you to feel guilty about voting for someone else in this contest.
BUUUUUT...if I DID win this year, because you all love me so much you stop by early and often to vote over and over again for me me me and only me...I might just get a teeny bit happy about that. I'm so much more pleasanter when I'm happy. Eets okah, yew cahn luke at me again...
Sunday, May 02, 2010
Hot Mama
I can sneak away (in between baby feedings) and run to the local grocery store to get some essentials. I took a trip to the local (about a mile away) Coborn's yesterday. I was waiting for the meat counter guy to cut up my pork chops and I noticed something kind of funny.
Maybe it's because Butch has been out of town lately, I feel a little lonely for him, and my hormones and emotions are a little...out of WHACK...but I started to get hot in the face and felt like giggling uncontrollably. I looked around me to try to figure out what was the problem. My eyes got big and I realized...I was SURROUNDED BY MEN! There was a 30'sish guy coming at me from the right, a giant motorcycle man on the other side of the flat freezer, two guys (father and son?) coming at me from the left, at least 6 guys behind the meat counter, and more coming around the corners! It wouldn't have been so overwhelming, had two of the men not had very distracting things written on their shirts. I didn't know where to look. I am usually a "look-you-in-the-eye-smile-say-'hi'" kind of gal...but I just nervously darted my glance from there to here, the lobsters, anything to get my mind off of laughing hysterically and looking like a crazyperson. I had to stand there and wait for the guy behind the counter, so I was TRAPPED. I started to sweat, wonder if I had remembered deodorant, felt the giggle bubbling up, and wished there were at LEAST ONE girl I could exchange rolled eyes with or to buffer all the testosterone in the general vicinity.
I felt like I had walked into a bar...a MEAT MARKET!
The two guys with the funny T-shirts happened to end up standing right next to each other by the ground beef. I finally got my chops from the butcher and turned around to find Weazy and Mari (who were looking for a cake for my dad and his twin sister's birthday that we were having at our house) and ran smack into those two guys. I couldn't resist and asked them if I could take a picture of the motorcycle man's t-shirt. He said "SURE!":
The other guy laughed when he saw what I was doing and I asked HIM if I could get a shot of HIS t-shirt, too. He puffed out his chest, proudly and I took a shot of that one (and probably blushed even more...really, my face was probably all blotchy and red and I wanted to laugh some more about how ridiculous I must have looked). I didn't feel particularly "HOT" yesterday, but I was feeling SWEATY!)
I think I'll bite the bullet, pack up the baby and some big helper kid, and head back to Aldi's the next time I need some meat. It's much safer there.
Maybe it's because Butch has been out of town lately, I feel a little lonely for him, and my hormones and emotions are a little...out of WHACK...but I started to get hot in the face and felt like giggling uncontrollably. I looked around me to try to figure out what was the problem. My eyes got big and I realized...I was SURROUNDED BY MEN! There was a 30'sish guy coming at me from the right, a giant motorcycle man on the other side of the flat freezer, two guys (father and son?) coming at me from the left, at least 6 guys behind the meat counter, and more coming around the corners! It wouldn't have been so overwhelming, had two of the men not had very distracting things written on their shirts. I didn't know where to look. I am usually a "look-you-in-the-eye-smile-say-'hi'" kind of gal...but I just nervously darted my glance from there to here, the lobsters, anything to get my mind off of laughing hysterically and looking like a crazyperson. I had to stand there and wait for the guy behind the counter, so I was TRAPPED. I started to sweat, wonder if I had remembered deodorant, felt the giggle bubbling up, and wished there were at LEAST ONE girl I could exchange rolled eyes with or to buffer all the testosterone in the general vicinity.
I felt like I had walked into a bar...a MEAT MARKET!
The two guys with the funny T-shirts happened to end up standing right next to each other by the ground beef. I finally got my chops from the butcher and turned around to find Weazy and Mari (who were looking for a cake for my dad and his twin sister's birthday that we were having at our house) and ran smack into those two guys. I couldn't resist and asked them if I could take a picture of the motorcycle man's t-shirt. He said "SURE!":
The other guy laughed when he saw what I was doing and I asked HIM if I could get a shot of HIS t-shirt, too. He puffed out his chest, proudly and I took a shot of that one (and probably blushed even more...really, my face was probably all blotchy and red and I wanted to laugh some more about how ridiculous I must have looked). I didn't feel particularly "HOT" yesterday, but I was feeling SWEATY!)
I think I'll bite the bullet, pack up the baby and some big helper kid, and head back to Aldi's the next time I need some meat. It's much safer there.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
"4, 3, 2, 1, Earth Beloooowwww Us..."
That dang song keeps running through my mind when people (i.e. EVERYONE WHO IS WITHIN TALKING DISTANCE THAT I'VE EVER SEEN IN THE PAST TWO WEEKS) ask me "When is the baby due?"
I'm huge. I mean, my BELLY is huge. I can't suck it in anymore. I'm fooling no one.
("The Countdown starrrrrrts...")
I am not a rocketship!
Shut up, voices in my head!!!
"...drifting, falling, floating weightless
calling, calling home..."
I then remember how every time I'm at that "no turning back" moment at the hospital, I feel the unreasonable urge to get up, get dressed, go home and go to bed. "YOU guys can stay here and do this thing. I'M going home. I've decided I've changed my mind and I don't wanna do this any more. Nice seeing you all! Sorry to disappoint you but I'm leaving now!"
("Hello Major To,. are you receiving?
Turn the thrusters on.
We're standing by."
There's no reply...)
Nobody ever takes me seriously when I say "I CAN'T DO THIS!" Don't they know that I really CAN'T?! I guess not, because they won't let me go home and they make me PUUUUUSH all of the time. Jerks.
Oh well, at least they've been trained not not NOT to say "pushpushpushpshpshspshspshsp" I hate it when I hear that and I will just go ahead and NOT push for people who do that awful thing. I'm not their monkey. They can't tell me what to do. I'll push when I'm damn good and ready to push, so there.
(Watching in a trance, the crew is certain.
Nothing left to chance, all is working.
Trying to relax, up in the capsule
"Send me up a drink.", jokes Major Tom.
The count goes on...)
And now, the song is safely here, on my blog, where it will haunt all of YOU and drive YOU nuts today. I need to sit and gestate one more day. I can't have this song drilling my brain anymore with it's synthesizer beat and beeboobopbop robot sounds in the background pushing me to the brink of insanity.
(The countdown starrrrrts...)
AAAACK! Make it go AWAYYYYYYY!
Friday. I go in on Friday to have this baby. THIS Friday. (If I don't run away from the hospital, that is.)
I'm huge. I mean, my BELLY is huge. I can't suck it in anymore. I'm fooling no one.
("The Countdown starrrrrrts...")
I am not a rocketship!
Shut up, voices in my head!!!
"...drifting, falling, floating weightless
calling, calling home..."
I then remember how every time I'm at that "no turning back" moment at the hospital, I feel the unreasonable urge to get up, get dressed, go home and go to bed. "YOU guys can stay here and do this thing. I'M going home. I've decided I've changed my mind and I don't wanna do this any more. Nice seeing you all! Sorry to disappoint you but I'm leaving now!"
("Hello Major To,. are you receiving?
Turn the thrusters on.
We're standing by."
There's no reply...)
Nobody ever takes me seriously when I say "I CAN'T DO THIS!" Don't they know that I really CAN'T?! I guess not, because they won't let me go home and they make me PUUUUUSH all of the time. Jerks.
Oh well, at least they've been trained not not NOT to say "pushpushpushpshpshspshspshsp" I hate it when I hear that and I will just go ahead and NOT push for people who do that awful thing. I'm not their monkey. They can't tell me what to do. I'll push when I'm damn good and ready to push, so there.
(Watching in a trance, the crew is certain.
Nothing left to chance, all is working.
Trying to relax, up in the capsule
"Send me up a drink.", jokes Major Tom.
The count goes on...)
And now, the song is safely here, on my blog, where it will haunt all of YOU and drive YOU nuts today. I need to sit and gestate one more day. I can't have this song drilling my brain anymore with it's synthesizer beat and beeboobopbop robot sounds in the background pushing me to the brink of insanity.
(The countdown starrrrrts...)
AAAACK! Make it go AWAYYYYYYY!
Friday. I go in on Friday to have this baby. THIS Friday. (If I don't run away from the hospital, that is.)
Friday, February 19, 2010
Breakdown
Everybody has their "moment".
Like that guy who smashed his plane into the IRS building, or that woman who's been crazy for years, finally freaking out and killing some of her fellow professors at that college...everyone has that tipping point...although, some people go WAY too far and can never turn back (because of jail or killing themselves).
I would never go that far into making life miserable for any other person, but I get to where I make life more miserable for myself once in a while. I know that some people would call it "depression" but I just call it "this thing". It's "this thing" that gets to me and makes me snap and yell at everyone until I realize it's my own attitude, mood, and reaction to NORMAL things that is making me feel sorry for myself and all pitiful. I have to go into a corner and cry for a while and get all red-eyed and puffy faced. I pray for God to take away that suffering, like a wimpy little brat, then I suffer for a little while more, look at my wretched face in the mirror and start laughing.
I guess that's the point where God must have heard my prayers and said, "You sick, foolish thing. Clean yourself up. You look ridiculous and you're not doing yourself, or anyone else any good!".
This thing happens to me once during the beginning of pregnancy and sometimes once, directly after. I know it's mostly hormonal changes that trigger it, duh, but that knowledge doesn't really matter at the time. In fact, when I'm pregnant, I can allow myself to feel even MORE sorry for myself (instead of embracing the suffering for people who can't have children), which leads to more of this thing until I erupt in that mushy, sad, crapsack of a girl who can't utter a coherent sentence when someone asks her "What's wrong?". It's always exacerbated by external things, like family who disappoints, world events, and mainly; money issues (mostly of my own making and disorganized nature).
So, how do I counter this thing? I have no idea. After the last breakdown (in December, I think), I had a very wonderful feeling of peace. I still have the aches, pains, and complaints of every day life, but they don't effect me, emotionally, as much and I feel a peace in my heart (how girly, I know) that I can't explain, other than to think that maybe God is answering someone else's prayers for me and making me handle things a little more like a sane person.
(I don't call myself the "crazymama" for nothin'!)
Okay, now for the funny part. I woke up in the middle of the night (just like every night, around 3 am. I have a funny feeling that God always is trying to tell me something and that that's why I always wake up at that time. I usually wake up in a cold sweat, or jerk awake from some disturbing dream, or hearing my name being called), went downstairs to the couch, and I turned on the tv and drifted in and out of sleep. At one point, I woke up, and saw this, and couldn't wait to write about it. It was, quite possibly, the funniest thing I've ever seen in the wee hours:
It was an infomercial for male enhancement. I know that that, right there, is funny enough (how could anyone fall for that? Why don't I invent a "magic pill" that can take away wrinkles and make your hips smaller and your boobs bigger? It would be just as believable!) but this one showed a quick picture with a tiny caption right after the lady hawking the thing said something about how depressing it is for the man to not feel "up to snuff in that area". It looked something like this:
It took me a minute before I realized what the commercial was for and why the caption struck me as so dang funny! See, I like to read the fine print under a photo or at the bottom of the screen for those weirdo infomercials in the middle of the night. My favorite one is always "results not typical, you should not expect the same results". THAT one always kills me! Why would you even bother with the whole, flipping commercial if no one should expect the exact result that you are touting? Sales and marketing people absolutely fascinate me.
Okay, back to that teeny photo and teeny caption. Here's what it read:
*Actual Hopelessness
SERIOUSLY! I started laughing until I had a choking fit and had to get up and get a drink of water. I'm going to think about that photo and caption, every time I feel myself sinking into that pit of self-sorrow and I KNOW I will be lifted up, INSTANTLY. I always KNEW there was a reason God always woke me up in the middle of the night...I just never thought it would be an infommercial for male enhancement.
Like that guy who smashed his plane into the IRS building, or that woman who's been crazy for years, finally freaking out and killing some of her fellow professors at that college...everyone has that tipping point...although, some people go WAY too far and can never turn back (because of jail or killing themselves).
I would never go that far into making life miserable for any other person, but I get to where I make life more miserable for myself once in a while. I know that some people would call it "depression" but I just call it "this thing". It's "this thing" that gets to me and makes me snap and yell at everyone until I realize it's my own attitude, mood, and reaction to NORMAL things that is making me feel sorry for myself and all pitiful. I have to go into a corner and cry for a while and get all red-eyed and puffy faced. I pray for God to take away that suffering, like a wimpy little brat, then I suffer for a little while more, look at my wretched face in the mirror and start laughing.
I guess that's the point where God must have heard my prayers and said, "You sick, foolish thing. Clean yourself up. You look ridiculous and you're not doing yourself, or anyone else any good!".
This thing happens to me once during the beginning of pregnancy and sometimes once, directly after. I know it's mostly hormonal changes that trigger it, duh, but that knowledge doesn't really matter at the time. In fact, when I'm pregnant, I can allow myself to feel even MORE sorry for myself (instead of embracing the suffering for people who can't have children), which leads to more of this thing until I erupt in that mushy, sad, crapsack of a girl who can't utter a coherent sentence when someone asks her "What's wrong?". It's always exacerbated by external things, like family who disappoints, world events, and mainly; money issues (mostly of my own making and disorganized nature).
So, how do I counter this thing? I have no idea. After the last breakdown (in December, I think), I had a very wonderful feeling of peace. I still have the aches, pains, and complaints of every day life, but they don't effect me, emotionally, as much and I feel a peace in my heart (how girly, I know) that I can't explain, other than to think that maybe God is answering someone else's prayers for me and making me handle things a little more like a sane person.
(I don't call myself the "crazymama" for nothin'!)
Okay, now for the funny part. I woke up in the middle of the night (just like every night, around 3 am. I have a funny feeling that God always is trying to tell me something and that that's why I always wake up at that time. I usually wake up in a cold sweat, or jerk awake from some disturbing dream, or hearing my name being called), went downstairs to the couch, and I turned on the tv and drifted in and out of sleep. At one point, I woke up, and saw this, and couldn't wait to write about it. It was, quite possibly, the funniest thing I've ever seen in the wee hours:
It was an infomercial for male enhancement. I know that that, right there, is funny enough (how could anyone fall for that? Why don't I invent a "magic pill" that can take away wrinkles and make your hips smaller and your boobs bigger? It would be just as believable!) but this one showed a quick picture with a tiny caption right after the lady hawking the thing said something about how depressing it is for the man to not feel "up to snuff in that area". It looked something like this:
It took me a minute before I realized what the commercial was for and why the caption struck me as so dang funny! See, I like to read the fine print under a photo or at the bottom of the screen for those weirdo infomercials in the middle of the night. My favorite one is always "results not typical, you should not expect the same results". THAT one always kills me! Why would you even bother with the whole, flipping commercial if no one should expect the exact result that you are touting? Sales and marketing people absolutely fascinate me.
Okay, back to that teeny photo and teeny caption. Here's what it read:
*Actual Hopelessness
SERIOUSLY! I started laughing until I had a choking fit and had to get up and get a drink of water. I'm going to think about that photo and caption, every time I feel myself sinking into that pit of self-sorrow and I KNOW I will be lifted up, INSTANTLY. I always KNEW there was a reason God always woke me up in the middle of the night...I just never thought it would be an infommercial for male enhancement.
Sunday, December 20, 2009
"Silent" December
We sing a Christmas concert at 10:20 on Christmas Eve then midnight Mass 11pm, right after that.
We will conclude with the Hallelujah chorus (We will be singing our version!).
St. Michael's Church in St. Michael MN. Midnight Mass is so nice. I try to go every year that I can!
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Lazy December Posting
I'm all shot from the day, so I'm being lazy and linking to Trina's post. We forced Butch to be Santa for the neighbor and her friend's families (they were having a party and provided the Santa suit). He balked, at first, but he really liked it (I knew he would!) and we waited at the neighbor's house, across the street. Since I had a lasagna in the oven, and since the neighbors hadn't eaten yet...we turned it into an impromptu party (the BEST kind!).
Go to Trina's post for awesome shots of SantaButch and family!
Go to Trina's post for awesome shots of SantaButch and family!
Friday, December 18, 2009
December Dentistry
Analise lost a tooth (Thankfully! It had a cavity! She has one other tooth that has a cavity and IT is loose, as well...I told her to work on it!) this month. Niklaus had a SUPER loose tooth in front and the adult tooth was coming in behind it, like a shark. I finally convinced him to yank the sucker.
I have a special method where I tell them, "Okay, I'll just tie this dental floss around it. If it doesn't come out right away, I'll just take the string off and we'll try again later." Then I yank it so fast, they don't have time to even realize that I pulled it.
My little neighbor girl came over the other day (I've already yanked two of her baby teeth and one of her sister's.) She asked me if I thought her tooth was "ready". I told her that it wasn't quite ready, but to come back in a couple of days. Today she came over and asked me, again if I thought it was ready to be pulled. It's her front, top tooth so, in my humble (semi-professional tooth puller) opinion, I told her that I could try to pull it, but that it might hurt too much and that she should come back in a couple of days.
I have a chipped tooth where I had an old filling but they won't be able to fix it until after Christmas and it's starting to HURT! All those Christmas cookies and chocolate! All that savory good Christmas food! All those yummy drinks and Bob's Candy Canes! Oh well, I'll just have to depend on New Year for the good stuff.
I think I should get a present from the tooth fairy for Christmas this year. I give her tons of business!
I have a special method where I tell them, "Okay, I'll just tie this dental floss around it. If it doesn't come out right away, I'll just take the string off and we'll try again later." Then I yank it so fast, they don't have time to even realize that I pulled it.
My little neighbor girl came over the other day (I've already yanked two of her baby teeth and one of her sister's.) She asked me if I thought her tooth was "ready". I told her that it wasn't quite ready, but to come back in a couple of days. Today she came over and asked me, again if I thought it was ready to be pulled. It's her front, top tooth so, in my humble (semi-professional tooth puller) opinion, I told her that I could try to pull it, but that it might hurt too much and that she should come back in a couple of days.
I have a chipped tooth where I had an old filling but they won't be able to fix it until after Christmas and it's starting to HURT! All those Christmas cookies and chocolate! All that savory good Christmas food! All those yummy drinks and Bob's Candy Canes! Oh well, I'll just have to depend on New Year for the good stuff.
I think I should get a present from the tooth fairy for Christmas this year. I give her tons of business!
Thursday, December 17, 2009
December Prisoner
We trapped a ladybug this morning. Tommy loves watching it crawl up the jar. Is it more cruel to let it go outside, keep it in the jar, or smush it?
Any Hindu out there want to weigh in?
Any Hindu out there want to weigh in?
Monday, December 07, 2009
December Tunes You Love To Hate (A Poll)
Look to the sidebar of the blog to find the poll of all of the songs nominated for worst Christmas song ever (according to my fb friends and my family). Put in your vote and I'll post the results next week sometime. Meanwhile, go see Crescat for a really awesome "Tacky Nativity Scene" contest that will make you laugh and that would probably make Baby Jesus cry (you can see the nominees with this link until tomorrow when she will probably post the finalists in the poll).
(Saw these in Target. Some things just defy good taste beyond all belief.)
(Saw these in Target. Some things just defy good taste beyond all belief.)
Tuesday, December 01, 2009
Posting For You Daily In December Happy Makes Me
I just love it when I get comments from people from other countries or company spam comments. They make me laugh. I save them in my email box for days when I feel sad. Here's one for your pleasure:
"Could not find a suitable section so I written here, how to become a moderator for your forum, that need for this?"
Heeheeheehee, come ON! You can TOTALLY tell that this must be a native speaker, right? (Maybe native to Malaysia!). That right there is some funny stuff!
It's my intention to post daily pictures during December, too.
Here's me in my Halloween costume this year:
Guess who?
"Could not find a suitable section so I written here, how to become a moderator for your forum, that need for this?"
Heeheeheehee, come ON! You can TOTALLY tell that this must be a native speaker, right? (Maybe native to Malaysia!). That right there is some funny stuff!
It's my intention to post daily pictures during December, too.
Here's me in my Halloween costume this year:
Guess who?
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Jolly Trolls
...the nights of uncomfortable sleep, the crazy dreams, the waking to go fifty billion (okay, at least twice) times a night, the extreme fatigue then extreme wakefulness and anxiety...
of pregnancy.
If you didn't already hear, I'm all knocked up...again. Yup, it's my 9th pregnancy (two didn't make it the whole, nine months, but I think they do count so I'll include them here). Wowie, that sounds strange.
I don't know the due date yet but I DO know that I am only just a few weeks pregs so it's veryveryvery early and prayers are appreciated, always.
(Don't continue reading if hearing about other people's dreams bores you to death)
So, I woke up at 1:30 this morning (note the posting time). I completely crashed out around 10 pm, which is HIGHLY unusual for me. I vaguely remember telling Butch, as I gave in to the waves of sleepiness, "Crud, I'll probably wake up in the middle of the night and won't be able to sle..." then I started snoring.
I fully intended to just shut my eyes for a minute and then head downstairs to clean up and take care of business...of course, now that I'm WIDE AWAKE, I can't remember what that "business" is!
I had this dream:
I'm walking through an old, huge, series of barns with lots of spiderwebs. I'm with a group of really old dudes (that kind of look like trolls) and we are searching for something. We see a whole bunch of hundreds-of-years-old, trolly and train cars. We have to sort them out. It's like an archaeological "dig" but these old guys are in some way connected to this rail line. They are maybe old workers that have come back to help identify certain train parts? I am the only young one among them and I think it's ridiculous that "they" have made these poor, old dudes come to sort out this huge, rusty mess. I spy a chunk of metal that looks interesting. I find out that my great grandfather or some distant ancestor has a great deal to do with the invention of some of these machines. I am given a list, a LONG list, of patents the relative is responsible for and I can't believe my eyes! I am told that, if I help sort this stuff, I could keep whatever was pertinent to his inventing and that it could be worth millions of dollars. I start to dig through the stuff and find a big grouping of little, tiny, trolley cars (almost small enough for very small children) and I start to unload them to sort them out. The old dudes, with big smiles on their faces, start helping me. They clean off the machines, throw out any nasty things that have been festering on those things for all those years (could have been thousands of years for all the dust and junk on them) for me, and generally keep the mood light. I am sort of sad that all of this stuff has been neglected for so long so I start to get depressed. My sister, Katrina (who is rarely, if EVER in my dreams) notices a figurine in another pile. We both get very excited and ask the dudes to go check it out. She directs them to carefully separate what turns out to be a huge grouping of little figurines (like wooden puppets...I just read Pinoccio to Mari, in real life) kind of like a train set for kids. They are all hooked together but are all shapes and sizes. It reminds me of The Jolly Troll. (Man, I haven't thought of that place in YEARS! It was this goofy, tacky, buffet restaurant somewhere in the city. Dad used to take the family there for a special treat but it always kind of creeped us out. It had a whole bunch of fake houses lined up along the walls...we would go look in the windows of them to see the figurines while we were waiting for our food. The animatronic trolls were working and doing various troll duties like cobbling, baking, house making, etc...anyway), this chain of wooden characters could be cleaned off and set up, once again so we set out to separate it and make it nice for future use. We were getting very excited at our find but very grossed out at how oldie and dirty everything was and how much it was going to take to clean it all and get it in working order.
That's when I woke up with a TERRIBLE headache. I don't really ever get headaches so I know something is not right. I don't want to take anything but if I did, it would probably be 3 XS Tylenol, that's how bad it is.
I think I'm tired again. Gotta go before I fall asleep on the keybolskjdklv xccccc'''''''''m
of pregnancy.
If you didn't already hear, I'm all knocked up...again. Yup, it's my 9th pregnancy (two didn't make it the whole, nine months, but I think they do count so I'll include them here). Wowie, that sounds strange.
I don't know the due date yet but I DO know that I am only just a few weeks pregs so it's veryveryvery early and prayers are appreciated, always.
(Don't continue reading if hearing about other people's dreams bores you to death)
So, I woke up at 1:30 this morning (note the posting time). I completely crashed out around 10 pm, which is HIGHLY unusual for me. I vaguely remember telling Butch, as I gave in to the waves of sleepiness, "Crud, I'll probably wake up in the middle of the night and won't be able to sle..." then I started snoring.
I fully intended to just shut my eyes for a minute and then head downstairs to clean up and take care of business...of course, now that I'm WIDE AWAKE, I can't remember what that "business" is!
I had this dream:
I'm walking through an old, huge, series of barns with lots of spiderwebs. I'm with a group of really old dudes (that kind of look like trolls) and we are searching for something. We see a whole bunch of hundreds-of-years-old, trolly and train cars. We have to sort them out. It's like an archaeological "dig" but these old guys are in some way connected to this rail line. They are maybe old workers that have come back to help identify certain train parts? I am the only young one among them and I think it's ridiculous that "they" have made these poor, old dudes come to sort out this huge, rusty mess. I spy a chunk of metal that looks interesting. I find out that my great grandfather or some distant ancestor has a great deal to do with the invention of some of these machines. I am given a list, a LONG list, of patents the relative is responsible for and I can't believe my eyes! I am told that, if I help sort this stuff, I could keep whatever was pertinent to his inventing and that it could be worth millions of dollars. I start to dig through the stuff and find a big grouping of little, tiny, trolley cars (almost small enough for very small children) and I start to unload them to sort them out. The old dudes, with big smiles on their faces, start helping me. They clean off the machines, throw out any nasty things that have been festering on those things for all those years (could have been thousands of years for all the dust and junk on them) for me, and generally keep the mood light. I am sort of sad that all of this stuff has been neglected for so long so I start to get depressed. My sister, Katrina (who is rarely, if EVER in my dreams) notices a figurine in another pile. We both get very excited and ask the dudes to go check it out. She directs them to carefully separate what turns out to be a huge grouping of little figurines (like wooden puppets...I just read Pinoccio to Mari, in real life) kind of like a train set for kids. They are all hooked together but are all shapes and sizes. It reminds me of The Jolly Troll. (Man, I haven't thought of that place in YEARS! It was this goofy, tacky, buffet restaurant somewhere in the city. Dad used to take the family there for a special treat but it always kind of creeped us out. It had a whole bunch of fake houses lined up along the walls...we would go look in the windows of them to see the figurines while we were waiting for our food. The animatronic trolls were working and doing various troll duties like cobbling, baking, house making, etc...anyway), this chain of wooden characters could be cleaned off and set up, once again so we set out to separate it and make it nice for future use. We were getting very excited at our find but very grossed out at how oldie and dirty everything was and how much it was going to take to clean it all and get it in working order.
That's when I woke up with a TERRIBLE headache. I don't really ever get headaches so I know something is not right. I don't want to take anything but if I did, it would probably be 3 XS Tylenol, that's how bad it is.
I think I'm tired again. Gotta go before I fall asleep on the keybolskjdklv xccccc'''''''''m
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Please, Indulge Me...Or Just Don't
I just woke up craffing (our word for when you laugh so hard, you start to cry...OR for when you are trying to cover up a cry by laughing).
I had the weirdest dream. You can stop reading now if you're like my sister and you hate it when people tell you their dreams...
I was working as a "helper" at the parish school (that I attended from 1-6th grade). The kids were all sweet and the parents were really involved and had meetings all the time so the moms were always around.
I noticed this one mom; skinny, short brown hair, kind of fussy looking, who always seemed to act just a little bit differently than the other moms. One day, I was wandering around after school hours, just being snoopy and busy, I happened upon this one mom in the library with a student. The student was crying and the mom (who is an actual parish member that I know with the initials of JF and is a sweet lady, she was in my dream, too) was trying to comfort her and get the story out of her.
I pretended I was just passing through but I noticed that the girl had cute hair. It was long, blond and it was wrapped all over with those kind of embroidery thread things (like art hair) and it looked a bit much for a little girl. I told her, "Hey, sweetie, I really like your hair! It's very pretty!" and she seemed to calm down a little.
Around the corner, came "Weird Mom", all snobby. She looked suspiciously at JF and sort of grabbed her daughter away and said something like, "Isn't her hair nice? It costs 100 dollars, EACH for those strands of wrapping!" and walked away with the daughter giving us a sort of "HELP MEEEEE!" look.
Later on, I was doing some other things and I heard someone crying again. It was Weird Mom, she was all upset because her daughter wouldn't come out of this one room and the teachers were trying to convince her that it was okay. I got the sense from everyone that they were all very tired of Weird Mom and just wished she wouldn't be so dramatic and high-maintenance. The girl came out and met with her mom but looked just as tired of her.
In the next scene, the girl was crying with JF again, because all of her hair was cut VERY short but I reminded her that I was the lady that saw her the other day. I reminded her that I had very long hair in a braid, remember? She nodded through her tears. I told her that I had gotten my hair cut very short too and all of the virtuous things about having short hair (feels good, doesn't take too long to wash, lighter and not so headachey). I took my hair out from under my hat and out of it's pony. She laughed and felt better.
There was a meeting being held and I horned in on it. I realized that the meeting had been called by Weird Mom. She was talking about how she was so thankful that we had nice moms and teachers there at that school. She held up her daughter's pony tail with the expensive extension thingies in it, as a way of showing how she "saved them" from her irresponsible daughter who didn't appreciate them. I got the feeling that she was some sort of "stage mom" who had some sort of business and needed her daughter to look a certain way and she was upset that her daughter wasn't cooperating.
I had HAD it. She asked everyone (in a very dramatic fashion), "I just wanted to know, is there anyone who had a problem with me cutting her hair?".
I raised my hand first. Slowly, the other teachers and moms raised theirs too. Weird Mom walked out in a huff, like she was SHOCKED that people felt bad about her in some way.
She walked back in, a couple of days later and she was wandering around in a daze. She whispered, "call 911", acting like, and saying that she was going to faint (presumably because she had been told for the first time that she was less than a perfect mother) and nobody would listen. I had enough and told her, "No one is LISTENING to you because you are being a complete psycho. You are totally insane and nobody actually ACTS like that in real life. These people have been bending over backwards to indulge you in your weirdness but you just keep acting weirder. I'll call 911, if for nothing else, than to call your bluff!". I said a bunch of other, truthful things in a very sassy/mean/rude way. I apologized, but more in a "I'm sorry, but..." kind of way. I knew it wasn't right to be so blunt (aren't I always? doesn't it ALWAYS get me in trouble? Ha!...Even in my dreams!)but I was just saying things everyone else wanted to say anyway.
The teachers all looked shocked but relieved. The police came in, soon afterward and I pointed in her direction. They all grabbed her and she started to (weakly) struggle. I said, "Whatever, Lady, you literally asked for it. You are not sick!" and the police turned to me (there were about 6 of them, kind of like some sort of swat team) and, all at the same time, held up these signs on paddles (Weird Mom was holding one too!) that looked like this:
PLEASE
STOP
NOW
.ORG
?
I "got it" right away in my dream. It was some kind of reality/gotcha kind of show where they plant a seemingly psycho person and then wait until someone "breaks" and tells that person off. I held up devil fingers and yelled "ROCK ON!" and laughed super hard, along with everyone else who realized that we got took. The crying turned to laughing when I realized (after everyone came up and hugged me and yelled "YOU WON!") and I felt so good for telling the truth when nobody else would. I also felt great because I knew I had won $10,000!
Then I woke up.
Craffing.
Not because my dream was so weird and funny, but because I hadn't actually won $10,000 dollars.
I could really use $10,000.
THE END
P.S. There is no "pleasestopnow.org" internet address...I already checked.
I had the weirdest dream. You can stop reading now if you're like my sister and you hate it when people tell you their dreams...
I was working as a "helper" at the parish school (that I attended from 1-6th grade). The kids were all sweet and the parents were really involved and had meetings all the time so the moms were always around.
I noticed this one mom; skinny, short brown hair, kind of fussy looking, who always seemed to act just a little bit differently than the other moms. One day, I was wandering around after school hours, just being snoopy and busy, I happened upon this one mom in the library with a student. The student was crying and the mom (who is an actual parish member that I know with the initials of JF and is a sweet lady, she was in my dream, too) was trying to comfort her and get the story out of her.
I pretended I was just passing through but I noticed that the girl had cute hair. It was long, blond and it was wrapped all over with those kind of embroidery thread things (like art hair) and it looked a bit much for a little girl. I told her, "Hey, sweetie, I really like your hair! It's very pretty!" and she seemed to calm down a little.
Around the corner, came "Weird Mom", all snobby. She looked suspiciously at JF and sort of grabbed her daughter away and said something like, "Isn't her hair nice? It costs 100 dollars, EACH for those strands of wrapping!" and walked away with the daughter giving us a sort of "HELP MEEEEE!" look.
Later on, I was doing some other things and I heard someone crying again. It was Weird Mom, she was all upset because her daughter wouldn't come out of this one room and the teachers were trying to convince her that it was okay. I got the sense from everyone that they were all very tired of Weird Mom and just wished she wouldn't be so dramatic and high-maintenance. The girl came out and met with her mom but looked just as tired of her.
In the next scene, the girl was crying with JF again, because all of her hair was cut VERY short but I reminded her that I was the lady that saw her the other day. I reminded her that I had very long hair in a braid, remember? She nodded through her tears. I told her that I had gotten my hair cut very short too and all of the virtuous things about having short hair (feels good, doesn't take too long to wash, lighter and not so headachey). I took my hair out from under my hat and out of it's pony. She laughed and felt better.
There was a meeting being held and I horned in on it. I realized that the meeting had been called by Weird Mom. She was talking about how she was so thankful that we had nice moms and teachers there at that school. She held up her daughter's pony tail with the expensive extension thingies in it, as a way of showing how she "saved them" from her irresponsible daughter who didn't appreciate them. I got the feeling that she was some sort of "stage mom" who had some sort of business and needed her daughter to look a certain way and she was upset that her daughter wasn't cooperating.
I had HAD it. She asked everyone (in a very dramatic fashion), "I just wanted to know, is there anyone who had a problem with me cutting her hair?".
I raised my hand first. Slowly, the other teachers and moms raised theirs too. Weird Mom walked out in a huff, like she was SHOCKED that people felt bad about her in some way.
She walked back in, a couple of days later and she was wandering around in a daze. She whispered, "call 911", acting like, and saying that she was going to faint (presumably because she had been told for the first time that she was less than a perfect mother) and nobody would listen. I had enough and told her, "No one is LISTENING to you because you are being a complete psycho. You are totally insane and nobody actually ACTS like that in real life. These people have been bending over backwards to indulge you in your weirdness but you just keep acting weirder. I'll call 911, if for nothing else, than to call your bluff!". I said a bunch of other, truthful things in a very sassy/mean/rude way. I apologized, but more in a "I'm sorry, but..." kind of way. I knew it wasn't right to be so blunt (aren't I always? doesn't it ALWAYS get me in trouble? Ha!...Even in my dreams!)but I was just saying things everyone else wanted to say anyway.
The teachers all looked shocked but relieved. The police came in, soon afterward and I pointed in her direction. They all grabbed her and she started to (weakly) struggle. I said, "Whatever, Lady, you literally asked for it. You are not sick!" and the police turned to me (there were about 6 of them, kind of like some sort of swat team) and, all at the same time, held up these signs on paddles (Weird Mom was holding one too!) that looked like this:
PLEASE
STOP
NOW
.ORG
?
I "got it" right away in my dream. It was some kind of reality/gotcha kind of show where they plant a seemingly psycho person and then wait until someone "breaks" and tells that person off. I held up devil fingers and yelled "ROCK ON!" and laughed super hard, along with everyone else who realized that we got took. The crying turned to laughing when I realized (after everyone came up and hugged me and yelled "YOU WON!") and I felt so good for telling the truth when nobody else would. I also felt great because I knew I had won $10,000!
Then I woke up.
Craffing.
Not because my dream was so weird and funny, but because I hadn't actually won $10,000 dollars.
I could really use $10,000.
THE END
P.S. There is no "pleasestopnow.org" internet address...I already checked.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Tuesday, May 05, 2009
Cousin It
I'm pretty sure I could have been mistaken for that guy. I got sick of the shaggy, icky, haven't-taken-the-time-to-just-go-get-a-haircut-already, witchy hair so I went and escaped on a whim yesterday. It was fun.
BEFORE:
AFTER:
Heeheeheeheehee.
BEFORE:
AFTER:
Heeheeheeheehee.
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