Procrastination

I'm a bit of a procrastinator and I know other people in my life who procrastinate. Seeing it in someone else has opened my eyes to myself, which has pushed me to want to know more about what causes it and how to overcome it. What I found was rather interesting. It said that "Procrastination is always based on a dysfunctional worldview, such as that "short term relief or pleasure is better than sacrifice for long-term rewards," along with irrational disregard for negative consequences." This makes perfect sense to me. I would have to agree that when I'm procrastinating, I'm often thinking that the short term relief of pressure will make me feel better. I have an ability to look into my dark future and somehow alter the consequences of not getting something accomplished. I either convince myself that it really isn't that important or that I'll have time JUST before it's REALLY due to get it done. I tend to think that the imminent deadline will motivate me when I'm lacking natural motivation.

I don't like this part of myself and I don't like it in other people. Nothing is more frustrating than someone NOT coming through for you when they said they would, especially in a working environment. I feel awful when I let someone else down or when I have to apologize for not getting something done that I know was expected of me. I tend to hate myself when I don't reach my own goals and expectations, especially when I know they are things that will create a better me. I want more energy and to get that, I have to start and continue to exercise and to sleep well and to eat well. I could do all that and it wouldn't be that difficult, but instead I will choose the quick fix. I'll rest instead of exercising and then I won't sleep well or I'll go out for dinner instead of planning a healthy meal at home. The consequences add up over time and then I find myself in a place so far from where I really want to be. It's FRUSTRATING. Why can't my mind be more in sync with the inevitable consequences of life?

Ode to Michelle

Today is the birthday of my BFF, Michelle. As part of her birthday present, I'm going to broadcast some of the best things about her.



Michelle and I have known each other for more of our lives now than we haven't. There is something really cool about knowing someone so well and for so long. The longer you know someone, the more history you have to play off of for inside jokes. Michelle may possibly be THE funniest person I know. She is incredibly witty and bold and quite the physical comedian. She finds humor in shocking people, especially me. Generally this involves flashing me in unexpected ways, like the time she walked up the stairs ahead of me with only a shirt on. I expected she had panties on, but... NOPE! I appreciate this type of shock humor much more than say, just jumping out and scaring me. Michelle is funny in the way she tells a story. She will tell me a story about her day or Violet or her mother-in-law and I will be rolling. I always try to retell her stories to other people, thinking they are going to be just as funny and they never are. It's the WAY she tells the story and I'll never be able to repeat it.



One of my favorite memories of Michelle is about a year ago. She came over for a girls night and we had just come back from the store with goodies of some kind. About 2 minutes after we closed the door, she stood in the living room and pulled her pants down to reveal matching pajamas underneath. It was sort of like.. "Ok, I'm comfortable, I'm ready, let's do this thing." I just busted up laughing and she was confused as to why that was so funny. It's funny, because it was so Michelle. If she were coming to my house to help me cook something, I would fully expect her to come wearing an apron. She's like that. She is one of the most feminine women I know. I really like that about her, because she has helped me to incorporate more girly things into my life.



Michelle is incredibly creative. She has this amazing eye for patterns and color and I love the way she coordinates fabrics. She is constantly making things and she acts like it's no big deal, but I don't really think so. She has made so many things for people that they will cherish forever. Not only does she coordinate fabrics for things she sews, but she is really good at coordinating her own clothing. She has a unique style and has come up with color combinations that I have copied more than once. I've always been the slower one in regards to fashion. I used to borrow Michelle's clothes in middle school and high school, because she always had cute stuff. I don't know how many items I ruined (I'd be afraid to count), but Michelle was always (still is) nice about it when I did/do.



Michelle is an amazing mother. She loves her girls so much and they know it. She lets them be who they are and helps them to explore the world without fear. There are a lot of things that Michelle does as a mother that I would like to be/do with my own kids.


Besides all that, Michelle is just a really good person. She is self assured and authentic and so comfortable in her own skin. She never holds grudges, she takes people at face value and she makes the world a better place. She has been such a good friend to me. She accepts me for who I am and puts up with all my annoying habits, like when I'm late .. ALL the time. (I'm really trying to work on this one.) She put up with me being a social phobic for many years and didn't hold it against me when I missed birthdays. She is forgiving and has granted me pardon over things I probably wouldn't have been half as understanding about. She is always fun and she's a great listener and I am so happy to have her as my BFF.

Happy birthday Michelle!!! :)

My Valentine Confessions

Tomorrow is V-Day. You know.. that day where everyone expresses their love and they give you gifts that remind you that you are loved.

Ahem.....

I have a confession. I have never had a real Valentine. Never. When I lived in California, the neighbor boy who had a crush on me, brought me a heart shaped box of chocolates. I thought it was so nice and I very much appreciated it, but I was sad, because I wished it had been from someone I really loved. Throughout my years of relationship drought, my mom has filled in and she always gave me something great. Don't get me wrong, I like Valentines Day and I don't think it's just about a significant other. It has sort of felt like an extension of Christmas, just without the evergreen and with a hint of spring. That's how my mom makes it feel to me.

This year, I have a significant other. He's quite significant in fact. Instead of being excited, I'm finding myself a little bit braced, like I just don't know what to expect. I do this thing when I don't want to feel disappointed and I just shut down any expectations. I become numb and act like I don't care at all. There is this little kid inside me though who really, really wants something great. Not a gift per say, but a real Valentine gesture. Well, ok.. a gift too. Something kind of traditional. I suppose it is my secret Valentines wish that I've had for years and it has never been fulfilled yet. At least not by someone I care about like that.

So.. that's my secret Valentine wish. The not so fun thing is that I'll probably have to make it a little more obvious if I don't want to end up disappointed. Though I know that communication is, you know, kind of a requirement, I still like to hope that people can just read my mind. Even when my deepest, darkest wishes stay ... deep and dark.

Little Bird

For many reasons, I identify with the lyrics of this song. Most people can't get through the music itself, because it's sad and melancholy, but I see it as sort of comforting.

Sometimes it's hard to say
Even one thing true
When all eyes have turned aside
They used to talk to you
And people on the streets seem to disapprove
So you keep moving away
And forget what you wanted to say

Little bird
Little bird
Brush your gray wings on my head
Say what you said
Say it again
They tell me I'm crazy
But you told me
I'm golden

Sometimes it's hard to tell the truth from the lies
Nobody knows what's in the hold of your minds
We are all building and people inside
Never know who walks through the door
Is it someone that you've met before

Little bird
Little Bird
Brush your gray wings on my head
Say what you said
Say it again
They tell me I'm crazy
But you told me
I'm golden
Little bird

I know what I know
A wind in the trees and a road
That goes winding 'onder
From hear I see rain I hear thunder
Somewhere there's sun
And you don't need a reason

Sometimes it's hard to find a way to keep on
Quiet weekends, holidays
You come undone
Open your window and look upon
All the kinds of alive you can be
Be still, be light, believe me

Little bird
Little Bird
Brush your gray wings on my head
Say what you said
Say it again
They tell me I'm crazy
But you told me
I'm golden
I'm golden

I have been sorting and sorting myself out over the last few weeks. The process itself is interesting and revealing and inevitably confusing, because every direction I begin to take loops back to something meaningless.

I was thinking about how everyone is the world wants outward recognition. I sometimes just think it's me, but I realized that I'm not so special in that regard. I want to be gifted and recognized for those gifts. Being beautiful or having an amazing singing talent or being really good and set apart as a horse trainer. The problem with that idea is that someone will always be more beautiful or sing better or be more talented. Someone will always be smarter or more well liked or more capable at this or that. What exactly am I here for? Is this life a competition? Do I have to compete to be the better person? Should I be afraid of losing my perceived status with other people? Do my deeds (good or bad) set me apart and make me "better" or "worse" than someone else? I know stupid and meaningless stuff will boost my self image for a short time. I can get dressed up and think I look nice and then I somehow feel elevated as a person. Is that what life is about though? Being pretty? Trying to get someone's attention? Working for recognition? It seems an exhausting concept, because there is so much up keep and maintenance required. You can't be pretty ALL the time. You can't be smart ALL the time. People don't like you ALL the time. External rewards are subjective, because they are not awarded unless you please your external audience, which is always changing.

I was watching a PBS program and Doug Fabrizio was interviewing the president of PBS, who happens to be female. I was really amazed at her ability to express herself. She was very bright, articulate and could express complex pieces of information in a way that was both easy to relate to, but also intelligent. She was this very average looking woman, but I was glued to her words. I started picturing how she made her way to that position. It was obviously well deserved. She commanded your respect. I wanted to be like her. I would get a lot of satisfaction out of being that self assured in that type of environment. I listen to Doug Fabrizo a lot and I really like him as well, because he's always so thoughtful in the questions he asks. He's an intellectual and he can take a subject and dissect it into so many pieces that make it seem so much bigger than you realized it could be. I guess that's what I want to be sometimes... bigger than I realize I am. Would it really matter though?

** I wrote this a few weeks or many months ago and never posted it. I read it again and thought... what the hell.

It Sucks to be SICK!!!!!!!!

I am sick. I was sick about 5 weeks ago too or maybe it was longer, I don't remember. The point is... I am SOOOOOOOOOOOOO Sick and I can't sleep and I'd like to complain about how I feel, because I have nobody else to talk to at 3:00 in the morning.

I have a fever and I can't figure out how you can go from burning up and having a temperature of 102 degrees and STILL being chilled to the bone. I was huddled in my blankets (down comforter and another blanket) and it still wasn't warm enough. It's such an odd feeling to be so hot and cold at the same time and not be sweating.

That lasted for a good 6 hours, until I took some Advil Cold & Sinus. I had to take 2 doses, because the first one didn't bring my fever down. I'm still hot at about 100 degrees, but I'm now sweating and actually FEELING hot. The cold medicine doesn't work, because it's supposed to stop the crap from running down my throat, but it hasn't AT ALL. Instead it has caused my heart to race and I feel like I'm on crack, while sweating profusely, while trying to breath and swallow without wincing in pain over my raw throat.

I can't sleep and so I'm up online trying to cope with my painful body and the chills and sweating and dry eyes and ....... on and on and on............ I'm miserable. Truly miserable. And I know I'm repeating myself, but I get to because I feel like crap and I'm delirious and totally high on bloody cold medicine.

The End

Ode to Addie

There once was a dog named Addie. She was bright and beautiful and free. She loved with perfection and brought joy and light to the world. She was cherished in return and to her last breath, she knew she was so very loved. She will be greatly missed.

A Box of Surprises

So, I was looking for a cable to hook up my Tivo to my new satellite service and as it has almost been a year since I moved, I couldn't remember where it was or if it even still existed. In my searching through boxes that I have still not unpacked, I found an old box of letters and "stuff". I don't keep a lot of things, but I do keep letters. Both letters that I've written to other people and those that I receive. It is always interesting to go back and read them from years ago to get a bearing on where I was within myself at the time. Some of them were kind of horrifying for a multitude of reasons. I don't always like the me from the past. Some of the letters were consistent with who I still am today, which is good and validating, but also partially frustrating. Sometimes I want to believe that my issues haven't been around for as long as they have. Knowing that they have, makes it seem like more of an obstacle.

I did find one of the nicest things in that box. I found a poem that was written about me. I'd forgotten that the poem had ever been written and it made me tear up a bit. I thought I would share it.

Dark Hair

Her hair is dark... very dark
Sometimes dyed darker
Soft strands of her hair orbit the sky
Wrapping her chickens in smiles
While her hair sings a lullaby
Lighter than a white gelding
Galloping across a desert stadium
Towards a wire tree who sits still
And listens to her hair
One million strands of thought
Each a question of succession
A braid of DNA
An answer dividing into two
Both a storm and a calm sea
Her hair is the warmest sun
To warp a friend in
The simplest concern or care
Her hair is a knot tied tight
To hold the world
And swing a child
Her hair is short or long
The motion of a ballerina
Dancing to the giggles
Lying within her hair
Perpetuating and pulling
Up laughs like carrots
Orange and smiling broad


I also found some of the nicest cards and letters from people who love me or are really good at faking it. I found my mom's 12 days of Christmas poems. She once bought me maxi pads and wrapped them up with a clever poem describing what they were. I had NO idea, but laughed and laughed when I opened the present and realized what she was trying to convey.

Most of my card/letter reading experience has been nice and affirming, but tonight, I learned for the first time why waterproof mascara was really invented. I was crying over how nice people have been to me and when I looked in the mirror... OH MY! I almost blogged solely about my mascara. If my camera had not been out of batteries, I would have taken a picture of my face. It was amazing! At least now I know NOT to wear that mascara to a funeral.

Oh... I also got a chance to rake my many, many leaves today. I had been longing to take part in that fall ritual that so many other people take for granted. Guess what? I get it now. I was sick of raking after my second pile.


*** Disclaimer: Stanford, I really JUST found that poem tonight in my box and then I went to your poetry blog and saw that you recently posted it. SO weird!

*** Disclaimer #2: I hope that poem was really about me. I'd feel like a jackass if it was about somebody else and I was claiming it as myself. It wouldn't be the first time. ;)

What Fall Brings In

I mowed my lawn today and was planning on raking up leaves too. I've never lived anywhere where I had a tree that shed so many leaves that it required raking. The trees at my parents house would just shed their leaves on the dirt ground and they eventually became part of the new cycle of spring. I watch movies where the neighborhoods are lined with big trees and the fall leaves drop and fill the streets with vibrant colors of orange, brown and yellow. It looks so serene. Today was my day to fulfill my Fall leaf fantasy and I ruined it, because instead of raking the leaves into big piles, I mowed first and the law mower ate them all. I did find a tiny bit of satisfaction when I dumped the clippings in the garbage and saw all the pretty colors. I pretended that I had raked them myself. It was ALMOST the same thing. The good part is that there are PLENTY more leaves to come and I'll have my chance again, probably by tomorrow afternoon.

When Fall hits, all the little creatures start to act funny. They all know winter is coming and so you find desperate bugs who have made their way into your house in an attempt to stay in a warm environment. Today, I walked in from mowing and saw the scariest bug I'd ever seen on my wall trim. I'd never seen one like it before, but a few days ago, I read about it on Kirsten's Blog. It was a millipede, but one with LONG, spider legs. I didn't kill it, because I don't kill any bugs, but when I captured it for release, I walked a lot further than I usually do to let it go. Ewwwwww!!!!!!



I don't know if the change in weather is doing me in, but I have felt like a zombie all week and I can't get enough sleep. I'm not sleeping well at night and only seem to be able to really rest during the day. I have a lot of work to catch up on and meant to go in to the office today, but it's after 7 already and I can't bring myself to go. I used to have a lot more drive than I do now and I don't know what took it away, other than me realizing that I'm not getting enough rewards from my job to make the sacrifice worthwhile. Huuuuuuummmmmmmm ..... Will I or won't I?

The Little Menders

I am in an odd mood tonight. I feel like I'm all warm in my bed, but there is a worrisome storm outside. I have a lot going well in my life, but the climate outside seems a little rough. People I know are struggling and going through loss and the world is in a panic about how far reaching the impact of the plummeting US (now world) economy will be. There is a lot of uncertainty in the air. I have yet to feel an impact and I don't know if I can really grasp what that would be, if I do.

I spent the night at Michelle's house and she made carbonara for dinner and was gracious about waiting for me to show up, because I'm always late. I don't know why she doesn't slap me or tell me that she fed my dinner to Todd. Instead she is sweet and patient.

After dinner, I played with Lucy and Violet. We played witch and princess, which basically consisted of me pretending to be either a witch or a princess and Violet and Lucy being the opposite of whatever I was. In their role as the witch, they took me to their dungeon (Lucy's bedroom) and piled on top of me, which just made me giggle. It seems my laugh was infectious and so they just kept giggling and smothering me with hugs. At one point, I pretended to be a sleeping princess, who was under a spell. I was fake snoring with my eyes closed and all of a sudden, I felt these tiny lips on mine. Violet was waking me from my spell with a kiss. I woke up in a hurry, bursting into laughter. It was so damn cute!

I think little girls are the sweetest thing in the world. I was not an affectionate kid. I was really shy and really reserved. I would showcase my dancing "talent", but ONLY when I was really brave and for close family. I love how open and affectionate Lucy and Violet are. They are good menders, because they are so genuine and you know that what they are giving you is real. They don't even have to know you are sad to do it and when they walk away, they don't know how or what they did. I might have to thank them when they are older.

Spots on My Silverware

Tonight, I put away, in my CLEAN drawer, silverware that I washed in the ... dishwasher. That might sound like a mundane task, but it's something that hasn't yet happened for me in this house, with this set of silverware.

I have issues with spots on my silverware. I hate spots. I HATE dirty silverware drawers and I though other aspects of my house can at times be really neglected, my silverware drawer is not. Because I have such an obsession to keep it so pristine, I usually let my silverware stay dirty for a long time, because I despise cleaning it by hand and then DRYING it by hand so that they remain spot free. In my mind, my silverware can stay dirty, but by damn... it's not allowed in the clean drawer until it has gone through my ten point system of cleaning.

I think something shifted in my brain tonight. I was in a hurry last night to get my dishes done, because my mom was coming over and I just pre-washed everything (I load dishes into the dishwasher that most people would consider clean) and hit "wash". I let everything dry overnight, because I hate the heated dry on my glasses as it causes baked on spots and tonight, I opened up the dishwasher and I started putting things away. I saw spots on my silverware and I talked myself into being ok with it. Other people have spots on their silverware and they don't even notice. (I'm sorry, but I totally notice spotted glasses and silverware at other people's houses. I only judge them for it a little.)

I really wanted to take out all the silverware and rinse and dry it again, but I held steady and fought the urge. I even loaded NEW dirty silverware into my dishwasher tonight after cooking. I actually COOKED. I'm kind of amazed with myself and wonder what has happened to me. Could it be that I'm sick of living in filth? Could it be that I've de-cluttered and so I feel more free to keep things clean? Could it be that I'm just not as crazy as I used to be? I think that might be it. I like me better this way. If you happen to come by and eat at my house, please make sure you compliment my spotted silverware.

I Found My Twin

I met someone who I think is more like me than anyone else I know.  She isn't someone who is easy to get to know, but the more I talk to her, the more I realize how oddly similar we are.  What makes us so similar is our operating system.  We look nothing alike and we have different backgrounds, but we have similar temperaments, similar health issues and similar ways in which we approach issues even if we come to different conclusions, etc..  Our brains operate in similar ways and I think if we were to be studied, our brains and biochemistry would come out a lot the same.

It was interesting talking to her today, because she was able to validate a part of me that I often consider a weakness in myself.  We were talking about our psychological make ups and how a broken trust during a key moment in your development can create a particular type of emotional and psychological detachment that heavily influences you to be who you are.  In both of our cases, though I know nothing about her life or her experiences, we have ended up fairly aggressive and independent people.  Though that can rear its ugly head in close, personal relationships, it is also an asset when it comes to taking care of yourself.  It makes you hyper-vigilant and keenly aware of your surroundings. This comes in handy when you have the need to protect yourself or it can give you an edge by ensuring that you gather information first, which puts you in a desirable position both to succeed and to avoid pitfalls.  I've always been that person who can overhear two words that someone is saying and then be able to put the pieces together to know what is going on.  I get a sort of high when I get pulled into a conversation about something I really know nothing about and I can sort though random details and form an understanding based upon an outline I've created, enough so that I can participate and SOUND like I know what's going on.  My brain was forced at an early age to listen to HOW something was said and to pick out key words so that I could keep myself informed about when or how I would need to protect myself.  It can bite me in the ass when I make false assumptions and overreact to something that isn't real, but it's also nice when I'm so many steps ahead of something that I need to be.  I think there is a happy balance there and I'm trying to play down one side without killing the other.

At any rate, this was one of those long and overly analytical posts that will probably bore, but I get so excited thinking about how people work and it was fun to talk to someone who works a lot like me.  I would love to be involved in studying people and how their minds operate and their biological make up to find out exactly what makes them the way they are.

My Daily Violet

Teresa:  Violet, I'm going to take a nap.  Will you wake me up in an hour?  (As I was laying my head on the chair she was sitting in.)

Violet:  (Silence for about 3 seconds until my eyes are closed and then...)  Cock-a-doodle dooooo

A Surprise in the Night

I was at my friend Michelle's house tonight and we were all watching "Watcher in the Woods". I'd never seen it before so I was totally glued to the story, but Tammy and Michelle passed out through most of it. When Michelle's husband got home with her two sleeping children, I offered to go out and retrieve Lucy from the car, because Michelle was still asleep. I reached in, unbuckled her, picked her up and she clung to me in the sweet way that sleeping children do. It hit that mommy button in me and I started thinking about how great it would be to do that with my own kids someday. As I was walking to the house, I was kind of lost in my fantasy with this euphoric feeling when all of a sudden, I heard (AND FELT) this rumble. Lucy let out the most powerful fart and not only did it register high on the Richter scale, but ... whew! It was really stinky. I thought it was so funny and I busted up laughing, but was trying to keep it quiet so as not to wake her. I carried her up the stairs and she came to half way and said, "Goodnight mommy". I thought it was sweet. She repeated it again when I was laying her in bed and then realized who I was.

I wonder at what age, ripping a HUGE fart without knowing it, is no longer considered endearing and sweet.

Powerflex My .... OUCH!

Yesterday, my friend Tammy talked me into going to a Powerflex class with her. She told me it was hard and that they lifted weights, etc.. She even told me how hard her marathon running husband thought it was. I had this picture of "hard" in my head, but I blew it off, because I have held this image of myself as a fairly strong person. I've never had endurance, but I have always been able to handle things that require musclular strength.

I had been invited to this class a few other times, but I could never quite fit it into my schedule. Yesterday morning as I was getting dressed in front of my full length mirror, I noticed that my body is ... how shall I put it... getting soft. I also noticed that the pants I wore on Tuesday were snug. I cannot deal with gaining weight. I lost a whole lot of it (30 pounds) and I don't want any of it back. I haven't been eating a lot, but I also haven't been moving a lot. So... looking at my ass, bent over (true) in a full length mirror, REALLY seemed to freak me out enough that I said yes to Tammy. It was also helpful hearing information from my mom, who is a caregiver to elderly people, how much one's ass will sag when they are 80 years old. She was taking care of this old couple the other day and walked in on the older woman changing her peed pants (old people do this if you didn't know) and she happened upon a clear shot of her bare bum. She said it looked like a little, elephant with folds and folds of skin. She was lucky enough this day to also witness the backside of this same woman's husband and would you believe it... his ass was still firm and unwrinkled. I don't want to be a soggy, old woman. I don't want to be a soft 30 year old.

So, back to Powerflex. I walked in the room a few minutes before the class started as they were finishing up an aerobics class. It looked like a really sweaty class and it made me run back down the stairs for fear I might have an asthma attack. It turned out that the same instructor who taught THAT 1 hour class, also taught our 1 hour, Powerflex class. When Tammy told me that it was the same instructor who would be teaching, I instantly told her that I didn't like her. She was too fit. She was annoyingly fit and not in a sick way where you look too hard or too defined or too thin, like Madonna. She was super firm, nicely defined, incredibly strong and so FIT! I wanted to be her, but without so much enthusiasm. I'm thinking it is her enthusiasm about "fitness" though that probably contributes so much to her ... um.... fitness. If I had her body, I'd never be in a room without a mirror. I would be mesmerized by my body so much that I'd have to stare at it all damn day. It would suck me in and I'd be like a bird watcher, but with my own self. That's kind of creepy, but it's why I'm not that fit. I'd never get anything else done.

The class was difficult. I'm not as "strong" as I thought, because this wasn't about what you can lift ONCE, it was about what you can lift over and over and over again. And they work muscles that never get worked. I left feeling totally soggy and broken. I just wanted to collapse my frame and not have to hold myself upright. Today, I'm still sore and anticipating the worst tomorrow. It still hurts to go DOWN stairs and though I have pumped myself full of ibuprofen, I know tomorrow is going to be really uncomfortable. I feel hard though! Never mind that I'm totally swollen and it's just all the lactic acid and water that I'm retaining that is plumping my skin. I'll take what I can get for today. :)

I Don't Wanna Do THIS or THAT or ANYTHING

I'm suffering from "overwhelmer's lack of motivation". It's a new term (mine obviously) that basically means that I have a whole pile of crap that I NEED, SHOULD and OUGHT to be doing, but I just don't want to do any of it. I'm overwhelmed to the point that I'd rather just evade it all.

I'd rather write about how I feel about doing it than just buckle down and do it. When I start thinking about one thing I need to do, all the other things dangle in my brain and taunt me and that makes me want to throw my hands up. It's not like there is a pot of gold at the end of this either. I don't have anything wonderful to motivate me forward, besides the relief that it's no longer taking up space on my virtual to do list. Dogs won't even do tricks for that. I would be happy with an "Atta Girl", but that doesn't even exist at the end of my trek. Just more of the same. Ick!

I used to take pride in the things I put out. I still do, but I'm exhausted from the struggle and that good feeling of pride from getting it done isn't there anymore. I miss the feeling I used to get, which was a kind of high, from keeping it all together. I had a system and I was able to manage it. I had enough time and energy left over and enough satisfaction from knowing that I had some level of control, that I could take care of things in my own life too. I did the house cleaning thing on the weekends, I cleaned out closets and took on projects and my dishes were SO clean. Today, my house is scary. My dishes look at me and I feel for them for being dirty for so long. It's not like I need them, because I'm never home to eat off of them, but for the few that I have used... well, let's just say they have been sitting for longer than is acceptable.

I need time off. I need to be able to count on people and things to be as they should be. I need a new job. I need a defrag.

What Color Do You See?

When I changed my blog background at home it was a nice, off-white. Now, at work... I'm seeing lemon yellow. Please respond and tell me what color my background looks like to you. I'm not fond of lemon yellow.

OK... is it Off White NOW? I need more color choices, but don't want to go nuts with the design. I'm overly practical.

Sarah Plain and ..... Hu?

I've already talked a little about my vivid dreams. I dream pretty consistently and they are always very interesting. I will often incorporate outside personalities into my dreams, even when I know VERY little about them. Last night, it was Sarah Palin. I've yet to see an actual LIVE shot of her. I've only seen pictures and read a few snippets about her online and I think those were from people.com. I saw that she had been interviewed by Charles Gibson last night and caught maybe two lines of the transcript. So, this is what my brain had to go on for what was quite an extensive chat, up close and personal. She was sitting in a cafeteria holding her baby and I sad down by her and started asking her questions. I asked her about her son and told her I was a little concerned about her ability to take over as commander in chief with such a responsibility to a child with special needs. I don't remember her response, but I know that her daughter who was sitting across from her chimed in and mentioned how much Sarah loved her son. I then asked her how she got into politics, because I was trying to get a feel for her experience. She told me that she used to volunteer at the hospital and that it set her on her way to politics. She was a candy striper. Damn.... I should have asked her about the hunting and her gun.

I'm having a difficult time reconciling McCain's pick for VP. I'm really supportive of a woman being in office, but I HATE the idea of a woman who is not qualified, being in office. I think it makes ALL women look bad. She went from Mayor (of a town of 6,300 people) to Governor (2 years by the way) and now a bloody VP candidate? HOLY!!!!! I also don't like the idea of a woman with a 4 month old child trying to "do it all". THAT is our eternal plight and it should NOT be played out through a scenario where one may have to take over as the bloody President of the United States. I'm kind of thinking that McCain is just using her to buy "stupid" votes and has a plan to replace her down the road. I'd respect him a little more if that was actually his plan. Does that make me sound awful and woman hating? I'm anything but. Truly. I'm just so annoyed!!!!!

P.S. I JUST realized that PLAIN was a re-org of her last name PALIN. It was totally unconscious, but clever just the same and NO.. it was not a typo. It was supposed to be a play on words from "Sara Plain and Tall", the Hallmark movie.

I Love This Song

Small Fences Make Angry Neighbors

I have already talked about my dog poop issues and how my yard is THE place for dogs to come to do their business. I have two neighbors besides my co-duplex neighbors. Charity and Shannon live next door to me and Barton lives two doors up. Between the two of them, they have 4 dogs and they are both aware that their dogs come and poop on my lawn. They are reasonably responsible and they come and make the rounds a few times a week to pick it up. It doesn't ever seem to be enough, because every Sunday when I go to mow the lawn, I'm knee deep is shit. I gather at least 10 piles of it per week.

I have been trying to make friends with my neighbors, because they are always out talking and letting their dogs play together. My neighbor Barton has always been a bit apprehensive about me. He has kept his distance for months, in spite of my efforts to be open and warm to him and in spite of how obvious it is that I love his dog. Last week, I FINALLY made it into his circle of "trusted neighbors". When I was watching Jones, he wandered over to Barton's yard to play with his dog and took a drink of his Sangria that was sitting on the porch step. We all laughed and made a joke about how we should never tell Jones's mom and dad or they would be pissed and make him talk to the Bishop. (Jones is a dog by the way, if people are behind.) Ever since then, Barton has waved hello and actually used my name. I was feeling rather accepted and special.

When I first moved in, my landlord told me that when it was Spring, he was planning on building a small fence for the front yard. I wasn't in any hurry and didn't really even think it needed it at the time, so I didn't say much about it. When Spring arrived and lawn mowing season was upon me, I realized what a pain it was to pick up all the dog poop each week. It took this long, but about two weeks ago, I wrote my landlord about some other issues I was having and casually mentioned that if he wanted to put up that fence, I was ALL for it, because I knew it would be a great solution to my dog poop dilemma. Being the amazing landlord that he is, Brad showed up yesterday with the stuff to build my fence. He is the hardest working human being I think I've ever met. His wife Brenda is really high energy and she pushes him a lot, but he just goes and goes. They are both incredibly nice people. Brad especially is just so nice and warm and fair. I couldn't have asked for better people to rent from.

This brings me to yesterday. As Brad was putting up the fence, he spotted the neighbor dog on my lawn, pooping. He decided to follow the dog home and knocked on Barton's door. He told him about the dog poop and Barton told him he would come clean it up. Barton brought over his pooper scooper and was cleaning up piles of poop, but was apparantely offended and was grumbling about stuff. Brad was a bit removed and just wanted the poop cleaned up without getting personal and so there was a bit of an argument. Brad was defending ME and my space and Barton was trying to explain that he did often come over and clean up, etc.. The argument ended with Barton calling Brad a dick and walking off in a huff back to his house. Brad filled me in when I came out to see what he was doing and I was immediately uneasy. I was worried that my newly established neighbor friendship had been ruined. Later in the evening, after I came home, I was out looking at the fence and watering my lawn. I saw Barton outside and called over for him to "check out my new fence", hoping to start up a dialog to kind of clear the air. He just looked at me and shook his head, picked up his dog and walked into his house. About 20 minutes later, he came back out and I called him over for a chat. He told me his side of the story and I just explained that I hadn't bad mouthed him specifically and that Brad must not have had all the information and must have been having a hard day. I tried to explain to him how much Brad worked and what his likely intention was. He was just pissed and frustrated, but he seemed to feel a bit warmer to me as I was sympathizing with him. I didn't want enemies. I really just wanted friendly neighbors and no dog poop on my lawn. A fence seemed the BEST remedy for the problem. I was feeling better about the issue until this morning when Brad came back to put up the gate. I talked to him again and he explained to me how someone had called his home phone, calling him a dick, until 2 AM in the morning the night before. As it sounded familiar, he suspected it was Barton and filed a complaint with the police department. He told me that he figured the only way Barton could have gotten his number would have been through ME. I told him that I absolutely did NOT give him his number and that Barton had told me how he looked him up online and found out that he was a building inspector, etc.. I was horrified that he would think that I had passed on his private information and really hope that he has enough sense to believe that I wouldn't do something like that. Ugh! Now, I'm in the middle of a small fued and I feel responsible to go over and explain AGAIN to Barton, that Brad wasn't being a total jerk. Brad was totally stressed, had a sick son who was in the hospital last night and really, really didn't appreciate seeing someone else's dog pooping on my lawn. He was protecting ME and my right to enjoy my yard. I'm a little disgusted with Barton right now and don't like the fact that he would be so juvenile about the issue. It's over and done and he should just drop it. It's fascinating to see how people will act when they don't have all the information and when they make false assumptions. I'm pretty certain that if Barton understood Brad, he wouldn't have felt as he did and vice versa. Brad wasn't aware that Barton DID come over to clean up poop often. He didn't clean it up the minute his dog left a pile, but he was responsible and made an effort to keep my lawn cleanER.

Brad made an effort to talk to Barton again this morning, but Barton refused to hear him or even acknowledge his presence. I hope that I have better luck and that I can give Barton a little insight into a scenario that he may not have completely understood, without him resenting me in the process.

How I Feel ..... NOW

SURPRISE!!!

Many, many, many years ago, my friends Michelle and Kim, polka dotted my house on my birthday. I think we were still in high school. I thought it was so nice and though I was a little embarrassed that it drew attention to my parents house, which I always hoped people didn't ever notice, it made me feel good that they would have gone to the effort of cutting out round shapes of colored paper, which they found a way to adhere to my house.

This year I made a joke to Michelle about polka dotting my house for my birthday as a way to reference THAT day. Michelle took me to breakfast this morning and as I was getting ready, I thought I heard someone park and come through my gate. I waited for the door bell, but didn't hear it, so I assumed it must have been my neighbors. About 5 minutes later, I finally did hear a ding. When I opened the door, I saw Michelle standing there with a huge smile on her face, holding a present and I noticed that my door had been colorfully polka dotted.


This totally made my day. I love how thoughtful Michelle is and how she went to so much effort to make my day special. She brought me over two cards from Lucy and Violet with beautiful works of art. Lucy drew me a potato and a picture of she and I together. Violet drew me a very scary scarecrow and a witch. I'm thinking she has Halloween on the brain. They made me smile! Thanks for making my morning so sweet!

Happy birthday Me!


AND THEN..... See, this is why Michelle gets that title of BFF. She is so sweet. She's been worried about me all day, because my mom is out of town and I had some plans that didn't pan out, so she stepped in. She and Jacob and the kids came over later in the afternoon. Jacob mowed my lawn (seriously .. SO nice!!!), while Meesh and I sang karaoke and then they let me come to dinner with them at Red Robin. They even hooked me up with a free birthday mud pie. I love being with Michelle and her family. I love the chaos of the kids and the familiarity between she and Jacob. I love that Violet will put her hands on her hips to get her point across that she REALLY needs to go potty. I love the way Lucy takes charge of Violet and gets her to do anything she wants. I love the way Jacob tries to sit in the back seat with the kids so I can sit up front (not that I let him). It was a nice day and I'm so grateful that I have good, good friends who love me so much.

Thank you for my very nice day!

I Think I Might Be Poor

Let me first make the acknowledgment that I absolutely SHOULD be in bed sleeping right now so that I can be fresh faced in the morning as opposed to the face I've shown my co-workers over the last two days, which resembles that of a woman who has been in labor for 72 hours and pumped full of so many drugs that her face is five times its original size. The reflection looking back at me in the mirror is almost too horrifying to cope with. I'm retaining water, but only under my eyes. Gallons of it from what it feels and looks like. It's pitiful and truly uncomfortable, both physically and socially. My self esteem is waning. I don't feel like I should even smile, because it woudln't match how I look. How I look most definitely resembles how I feel. That's good old Teresa, being true to form and broadcasting her feelings all over her face. I did go out and buy a $20 bottle of "cooling" eye gel from Origins today that is supposed to de-puff my eyes. We shall see. I'm hoping it will make me a better liar.

So, onto what I was actually going to write about, which is the fact that I think I might be poor. It just dawned on me that I feel rich when I have over $200 in my bank account. THAT is NOT rich! I think that as long as I have money left in the bank by the time my next paycheck hits that I'm doing well. WHERE did this thinking come from? That is called, living paycheck to paycheck. Holy shit! That sucks! I'm bloody poor! I grew up poor. Very poor. The kind of poor where our house was on the chopping block so to speak and where we were close to losing it many times. The kind of poor where my mom made macaroni and cheese with tuna for many meals and I thought it was just because she thought it was a good recipe. The phrase "we just can't afford it right now", was used often and I can remember the excuse my mother would give door to door salesman, which was... "my husband is in construction and we just don't have any extra cash right now". Well, gosh... $200 must be some serious EXTRA cash in my book, because I've been feeling like Trump. Never mind the fact that I completely missed my government rebate of $600, because my expenses far exceeded my income. I had been waiting and waiting and finally decided to call the IRS to find out exactly where my check was. Ya, they deposited it back in May. That was the $600 that I was going to use towards Hawaii that I no longer have. I feel robbed in a way, but I was robbed by myself and my inability to come to terms with the reality that I'm not a wealthy person.

I didn't need this awakening today. I really don't need another failure to add to my pile right now. Being poor and not knowing about it was something I could cope with, but being poor and you know... being totally aware of it, is depressing. I liked living with the illusion that I had money and freedom.

Where did my hope go? I used to have this enduring faith that things would work out and that I'd have a clear path to all that I wanted in life. Today, right now, I feel like I'm being teased and I swear I hear distant laughter.

I'm Just a TAD Overwhelmed

Stuff I gotta do ... TONIGHT!

1. Go check on animals at my parents house to make sure my father isn't killing them while my mother is away.
2. Eat, so that I don't die.
3. Come back to work and finish up things at work that I really don't enjoy doing. This one has a whole other list that would make this one laughable.
4. Try to remember to go to the store to buy toilet paper.
5. Fill my car up with gas so that I don't run out as it's WAY beyond empty. Maybe that should be number 1.
6. Figure out how to mow my lawn, before my landlord drives by and evicts me due to my apathetic yard care.
6A. Pick up dog poop AGAIN before I mow!
7. Go home and try to sleep so that I can get up and do it again tomorrow.

This is How I Feel Today...

On Poop Patrol

So..... I have a bit of a dog poop issue. I have been feeling a little overwhelmed since the warmer weather, because all the dogs in my neighborhood have decided that my front lawn is the BEST place to poop. I clean it up each time before I mow, but it's frustrating, because I cannot walk across my lawn without a lot of concentration. I'm always searching out new piles of poop, because I'm paranoid of stepping in it. I end up looking like a paranoid freak when I yell at people as they enter my lawn to just STOP, right where they are, as if they are about to step in quick sand. It's a chore. A few of my neighbors know their dogs use my lawn as a potty box and they do come over and pick up poop, but it is a never ending cycle and nobody can keep up.

The back yard used to be a safe place to walk, but now that my other neighbors (who share the duplex with me) have a new puppy, it is like a mine field of poo. They have showed very little interest in the puppy poop. As the puppy is, you know... a puppy, he poops wherever he is when the urge comes and often times this is right on the sidewalk. The same sidewalk that I use to get to my garage every day. The sidewalk that I use to get from my car to my house in the DARK most days. Negotiating a sidewalk that could be littered with fresh piles of puppy poop, in the dark, is not so fun. I would think that my neighbors would think of this and maybe want to clean up the poop, but they just let it sit there. There was poop ALL over the yard and they told me before they left for a week and let me puppy sit for them that they would clean it all up. Um... they didn't do that. The puppy kennel was full of poop and flies and it was so gross. I finally broke down today and bought a pooper scooper and then used it to clean up the entire yard. I plan on giving them full access to it and it will come in handy for front lawn clean up as well, but I'm hoping it might inspire them to take their poop a little more seriously.

I hate to say it, but I judge people by how they handle dog poop. Are they the kind of people who will make sure they have a poop baggie with them when they go to public places or are they the kind of people who will just pretend they did not see their dog taking a poop and will just leave it? I have enormous respect for people who bend over and work diligently to get every last bit of a steaming pile of poop. They get huge points in my book for their willingness to deal with poop in public. The people who leave it.... I would hope I don't know any. It's no different than someone throwing trash out their car window. It's just tacky.

Keeping Up With Jones

This is Jones. He is my neighbor's puppy and I've been watching him over the last week. He is such a sweet, lovable dog and I want to steal him, take a week off of work to potty train him and make him an indoor dog. He's very smart and really likes people. It breaks my heart to know he will grow up to be forgotten and will eventually be neglected and isolated. He's too good a dog to suffer that fate. At any rate.. Jones and I have been having a lot of fun together. I spend whatever available time I have with him outside, which means I've suffered a few more bug bites, but he needs me. He likes to sit in my lap and if I'm laying down, he likes to crawl on my tummy and take naps. There is nothing sweeter than a sleeping puppy when you can feel their breath on your face. I know some of you would think that was gross, but I love how puppy's smell and I love to cuddle with them. A baby is a baby and I don't see much difference between a baby human and a baby animal. It will be very hard to give him back.


Jones being naughty and walking through the garden...



He likes this strange position though it looks like his legs are broken.

I'm Number One

I was at dinner last night with my parents. After the meal, the waitress brought the check and 3 mints. My mom handed my father the check and began to divide up the mints. I noticed that the one in front of me was a little chipped. My mom noticed too and she quickly grabbed it and gave me a good one. My attention shifted for a minute and when I looked again, I noticed that she had given the broken mint to my father. If you knew my mother, this isn't a typical behavior for her. She would normally have taken the broken one for herself. It made me laugh so hard that I had to call her out on it. She absolutely admitted to knowingly and deliberately giving it to my dad. He wasn't all that happy that I had passed him up in the ranks. I tried to explain to him that being 3rd really wasn't all that bad.

It Makes Me Happy

I woke up crabby today. I have a lot to do and little time to do it in, which only seems to hang me up so that I don't actually DO what it is I need to do. At any rate, I caught a tiny wind and started doing a few things and then got the idea that an iced mocha from the Beans and Brew around the corner would get me so high that I'd turn myself into Wonder Woman and be even more motivated. Oddly, it did not have that affect on me. Normally, I'm buzzing around like I'm on crack, but instead, I laid down for just a few seconds and that turned into a few minutes, which eventually worked into about an hour. I finally forced myself out of bed when I realized that my iced mocha, which was sitting on my night stand, was sweating and dripping on a surface that was not meant to repel moisture. Since I was up, I got online JUST to check ... ? I can't even remember what seemed so important to check. Anyway, I was the opposite of motivated and upbeat and I ran out of things to check and eventually found myself on Dooce's blog. I haven't read it in a few weeks and much to my delight, I found an entry (see here) that reminded me of why I like reading her so much. It made me laugh and now I think I'm ready to try and finish my to do list in the less than two hours I have remaining, before I have to hit a b-day party that will take up the rest of my evening. Grandmas only turn 80 once. I'm thinking I will write down all the things I need to do on a piece of paper, put them in a hat and let fate decide what gets accomplished today.

Ode to Jeff

In honor of my good friend Jeff and this very special day (his 25th birthday), I'm going to do what I love most, which is to think of all the great things I appreciate about him and make it public.

Jeff is a member of a very elite club, the "nice guys club". If they had a president, he would be it. He is respectful of women, knows how to listen, can flirt in a way that makes you feel good rather than icky, can sense when something is wrong and knows when and when not to ask about it. He is supportive and protective in a big brother kind of way and is incredibly thoughtful and selfless. He's the kind of guy who will ask his sister to help him pick out clothes for your Christmas present, because you told him once that you love it when guys buy you stuff you can wear. Jeff is open and accepting and won't criticize anything about you unless he thinks it is something that isn't good for you. He is loyal to a fault and only lies when he's trying to make you feel better. He has a laugh so unique you could pick him out, blind, in a crowd. It's the kind of laugh that makes you smile when you hear it.

Besides being a great person and someone you really like to spend time with, Jeff is really smart. He used to be our IT guy at work and he was the best we have ever had and probably the best we ever will have. He's a tireless problem solver and his mind is always pulling in and processing new information. He's handy to have around, because he is a bit like an encyclopedia. He is amazingly resourceful and can carry on a conversation about most anything, because he knows about so many things. Jeff isn't the class clown type. He chooses his jokes very carefully and when he delivers one, it's a good one. He is very witty and funny and I have a spot in my memory bank devoted to Jeff's best lines. I know one in particular that happened at Chili's over some fajitas. He will have to work pretty hard to top that one.

On a more personal note, Jeff is someone who helped me through a very difficult time in my life. He helped me transition out of a self imposed isolation. He was easy enough to be with and made me feel comfortable enough that I started going to lunches with him. This was during a time that I wouldn't have considered going to lunch with anyone besides my best friend Michelle and my family. It helped that he was open to places that made me feel comfortable, like Kneaders, which I'm sure he got REALLY sick of. He didn't complain though and he thought my company was worth the unvarying lunching options, which made me feel good. Eventually, I poked my head out of my shell and today, Jeff is one of a select few people who I will sit through a movie with. If you really knew me, that is HUGE.

Like all people, I don't know if Jeff really knows how special he is. He's one of the greats and I'm very glad that he is my friend. I know I am better for knowing him.

Happy Birthday Jeff!!!

Love,

Teresa

Starting... NOW

I am making myself a goal and I'm making it public for added motivation.

Starting tomorrow, my goal is to arrive to work by 8:00 AM and to LEAVE work no later than 7:00 PM. Whatever I cannot do between those hours will remain UNFINISHED and I will let it go.

I'll keep a tally on my blog of how many days I achieve my goal.

I'm hoping this will make me a happier person and less frustrated about the things I don't seem to accomplish in my life.

With that said... I'm going to bed now, so I can wake up early tomorrow. :)

What's your memory?

1. As a comment on my blog, leave one memory that you and I had together. It doesn't matter if you knew me a little or a lot, anything you remember.

2. Next, re-post these instructions on your blog and see how many people leave a memory about you. It's actually pretty funny to see the responses. If you leave a memory about me, I'll assume you're playing the game and I'll come to your blog and leave one about you. If you don't want to play on your blog, or if you don't have a blog, I'll leave my memory of you in my comments.

A Festival Of .............

I just spent about 30 minutes creating a festival of bitching for myself. After reading how unpleasant certain events in my life have been over the last two days, I decided I'd spare anyone else from having to actually read about it.

I could talk about the poor earwig, who lost his life as I washed my body with him, but that is dark and graphic and would probably scare readers. It certainly scared me, because it was definitely NOT on purpose. I would never knowingly wash my body with an earwig. That's disgusting!

+

=

ICK!

I could talk about lunch with my parents today. They are super, great, amazing, giving people. My dad is off today and my mom is being sweet and following him around on his quest for the PERFECT bag. My dad can get really animated and sort of hyper active at times. Especially if he has been cooped up, 12 hours a day for the last 4 days. I came out to work, so my mom thought it would be nice to meet me for lunch so she could have my dad buy my lunch. If she can't convince me to stop by the house for a free meal, she will do the second best thing and pay for it, because she has it in her mind that I'm low on cash, which I'm not. She likes to calculate how much money I spend on lunches every week and then remind me how much I could save by packing a lunch or eating at her house. Anyway, we met at Kneaders and my dad stood in line and read the entire menu OUT LOUD. When I started grimacing, my mother turned to him and yelled OUT LOUD for him to stop. She was both irritated by his slightly obnoxious behavior, but more importantly, she was concerned with my irritation to his slightly obnoxious behavior, which is what ultimately caused her to act on my behalf. Instead of being grateful for her intervention, I was completely irritated with both of them. I often feel like I'm out with a kid and his mom when I go out with my parents. My dad can't just walk up and order what he wants and then quietly make his way to a table. My mom can't just let it be and quietly roll her eyes with a seriously annoyed look on her face like I do. She just adds more fuel to the fire by elevating her voice so that everyone in the restaurant knows that she's irritated with my dad. She also can't just let me BE and not try to fix everything, even when it's just FINE. I wrapped up the other half of my sandwich and she had to ask if it would "keep" in the wrapper or if they had a "to-go" box. Can't I be the one in charge of thinking that through? They both have the best of intentions, but today.. I think I just wanted everyone to talk in a whisper. My parents don't whisper. They don't hear well enough to.

So, here I sit at work... avoiding work. To delay it a few more minutes, I'll get up from my computer, walk downstairs and fill up my water jug with someone else's purified water.

Here Comes the Rain

It's raining outside and it couldn't have come at a better time. I was feeling like one of those clouds, all swollen and full and ready to burst, but... just waiting. I've been staring at my wall for the last .. oh.. two hours or more.

Yesterday my neighbors asked me to stop by their barbecue tonight. They said they had invited over a bunch of old college friends and that it would be fun and would I like to come. I told them I'd try to make it if I didn't have to work. Well, as I left work early tonight, I needed to kill some time so that it wasn't obvious that I was avoiding their shindig. I decided to catch a 5:00 showing of The Dark Knight, which was a great choice, because it kept me occupied until after 8:00. That made me well beyond fashionably late and instead of stopping by to say hello, I just kept my head down and made a mad dash for my door. I wasn't feeling social at all and really didn't think I had it in me to navigate my way through my "Married Mormon Neighbor Social Glitch Syndrome" or MMNSGS. For some bizarre reason, I lose all my social skills when confronted with these neighbors. I like them. I think they are sweet and warm and friendly, but I just cannot find a common groove with them and it causes me to take a social nose dive. The conversation could be 1 minute or 10. Doesn't matter. I wish I had a hidden camera so that I could record the expressions on their faces. I feel this pressure to fill in the silent moments and so I talk more than I need to and often things just come out that shouldn't. I really cannot put my finger on it, but I don't know how many more dinner invitations I can dodge with them. I think it would be torture to have to sit for a meal while I over share all night and watch in horror as they file me away in the minds as a special case in need of their fellowship. Ugh!

OOOOOOOOoooooooooooooooooo crap! I'm scared. I like RAIN ... um... but I don't like lightening. I want to hide under something and cover my ears.

The Piss Ant - Pissant

My mom was talking to me about some ants that had been coming into her house. She told me they were just little piss ants and I laughed so hard. I was like... "Mom, there is no such thing as a piss ant. That's just used as an insult." Well, it looks like there actually IS something called a piss ant (pissant). See here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pissant

I was thinking about pissy things in general, which is why I thought to look it up. It seems so many people around me are pissed off or just not coping well with life. I count myself among these people. My work is a never ending cycle of being behind and feeling mentally worn and not in control of things that should just run smoothly. My personal life blends SO heavily with my work life, because so many of the people who are close to me actually work with me. This tends to cause a lot of shared headaches. Under normal circumstances, when you hear someone venting their frustrations, they tend to be fairly separate from your own and so you can listen somewhat removed from the problem. In my case, I vent with friends who are co-workers and vice-versa. Instead of helping to cool the fire, it tends to just ignite it more, because all the issues tend to bleed into each other and it's just one, big, fiasco. That last line would have sounded so much better with a big F bomb in the middle of it, but I'm holding back. Just know that I'm saying it out loud, RIGHT now. Whew! Much better.

Instead of feeling pissy and frustrated and ungrateful, I know I should be thinking about all the great things in my life. Maybe I'll give it a try and see if by the end of this post I don't feel any better...

I'm grateful for...........

My cat Scooter. He really loves me. I mean.. REALLY loves me and I know he loves me more than anyone else. It's nice to feel singled out and trusted and he had to come a long way to get there. When I first found him, he was wild and afraid of people. He wouldn't even let me look at him. I left him food and would bring it closer and closer to the house until he finally let me reach out and touch him. He is not even close to the same cat today. He is an example of why I love animals so much. They will let you in if you give them good reason to. It makes you never want to let them down.

The water guy John, who was so nice to me today. He gave me one of the nicest compliments and it was really genuine and caught me off guard. It made me feel noticed and acknowledged for me. I like it when strangers can do that.

My brother Justin. He is a very good, big brother and I kind of like knowing that he'd mess up anyone who tried to hurt me. We don't talk a lot, but I like that when we do, he can be open with me and that makes me feel good.

My neighbors' new puppy. I'm grateful that there is a sweet, adorable, 6 week old puppy in my back yard who I can steal and carry around like a baby. He's sweet and has blue eyes and likes to snuggle in my hair. It's an instant mood elevator. He smells sweet too and he ate his dinner tonight with the help of his stuffed animal dog who hung his head over the food bowl. It seems dinner is far more exciting when friends are invited.

Jeremy. He is good when he's good. He has a very open sense of humor and does silly things to make me giggle. He's a pathetic artist, but will create comic works of art worthy of framing. He is a great listener when he knows you need it and he likes to make other people feel good. He's the type of guy who goes golfing at 6:30 in the morning, because someone asked him to and he really, really..... HATES mornings. He can carry on some of the best conversations of anyone I know and he's never boring. If you take the time to pick his brain, you will find some really amazing things.

Tom Harrison. He is like family to me. One of the most enjoyable people to be in a room with. He always lights up the day, even if he's in a bad mood, which is rare. The worst thing Tom can do is stare off into space and ignore you or steal your chocolates. Best thing is that he has a way of being able to recognize you for who you are by doing very little. He's so easy going and lovable.

So.. that's kind of where I wanted to stop and I just realized that everything I'm grateful for has a penis. I don't know HOW that happened. I'm grateful for a lot more people in my life than this list, but this just came out and I'm finding that really interesting. Huuuummmmm??? Strange. If you are female and did not find yourself on the list, just consider it a strange phenomenon.

Do I feel any better? Maybe a little. I've gone from a 7 to a 4 on the pissy scale. (1-10)

It looks like making a gratitude list really worked. Thanks Oprah!

It's Muggy In Here

Why does heat make you so inactive? I got home, walked upstairs, turned my cooler to "pump", turned on my computer and finished up my conversation on the phone with my mom. After that, I got distracted by something online and I've been sitting at my computer for the last 40 minutes or so in about 80 degrees WITH humidity and NOT turning on my cooler. It just dawned on me that I was actually HOT. It's like I was just stuck here and couldn't move and my brain re-wired itself to ignore how hot I was. Now I just want to breath a nice, deep breath of cool, fresh air. I'm so annoyed with myself!

Not That I'm Surprised...

Looks like I'm rated...

Created by OnePlusYou

I used the following words:

Pain (11x)
Ass (7x)
Shit (6)
Sex (4)
Steal (2)
Torture (1)

When the Walls Are Too Thin

My neighbors have got to think that I'm really ..... um ..... odd.

I got home from work tonight and I was feeling a little stressy, so I decided I'd get out my mini trampoline, put on some good tunes and "trampdancercize". It's a combo of dance and jumping on my super cool mini tramp. While I was doing my thing, a few good songs came on and I had to sing while I was moving around like an idiot. When I sing, I sing with plenty of volume, especially when the music is loud enough to dance to, because I have to compete with the speakers to hear myself. Anyway, about half way through, I noticed a beetle bug crawling around in the corner. I let him be until he started making his way into the middle of the room and as I didn't want to accidentally step on him.. ewwwwwwww... I picked him up and took him outside. Mind you, I had been singing REALLY loudly just moments before, to new music that I did not quite know all the words to, so there was a lot of improvising. As I opened my door, there stood my neighbors, right outside my living room. They startled me, so I screamed one of my best pitchy screams and quickly slammed the door. When I reopened it, they smiled and introduced me to their new puppy. I shut the door so I could play with him a bit and that's when I noticed just how loud my music was. I had a pretty good idea that they heard me singing. Not a big deal, except that you don't actually come off looking cool when people catch you singing by yourself. It's like someone walking in on you in the bathroom. It's just a private moment. I felt slightly violated, but it wasn't their fault. At least now I know how thin my walls really are.

To add to the awkward moment, I did that thing where you offer up information that you wouldn't normally say to people. I was feeling awkward and the puppy made me baby hungry so I made a comment about my eggs drying up, because I'm 30. Seriously? WHY would I say that? I didn't even give it a good lead in and I didn't really MEAN it. My eggs are probably fantastic. It wasn't so much WHAT I said, but the entire dynamic of the conversation and just believe me.. it was NOT the thing to say and I think I'll just ignore my neighbors forever now. I can't handle the pressure of talking to a married, Mormon couple. I need to take a class or something. They were really nice and didn't seem THAT annoyed, but I bet they went into their house and laughed and then maybe said a prayer for me. OH, the SHAME!!!

Give Me Your Blood......

Yesterday, my company hosted its third blood drive. They have all been initiated by one of my favorite people in the world, Tom Harrison. He's a co-worker who is much like a second father to me. He's also a very good, very giving person. That is, when he's not calling your cell during your lunch, AFTER you have already ordered and asking you if you wouldn't mind getting back in the very long line and picking him up something too. Ok.. let 's put it this way, Tom is an idea man. He thinks of ways to make things happen and then he asks someone else to do them. So, basically... he's just a male, but he's good to the core. Back to the point... we had our third blood drive yesterday.

Many of you already know this story, but I'd like to tell it again, because yesterday, I felt humiliated about it for the first time in two years. During our first blood drive, two years ago, we had a goal of about 20 donations. We were falling really short and only had about 8 people committed to donating. I am TERRIFIED of losing my blood. I can deal with shots so it isn't the needle per say, but the idea that blood is leaving my body. I sometimes even get weirded out during that "time of the month", because I think that this just shouldn't be happening to me. I need that to be IN my body. As we were falling short and I had this great phobia, I thought maybe I'd step up and try to conquer my fear while doing a good thing. I have an amazing vein in my right arm, so I handed it over while I turned all my attention to the left. I had Tom holding my hand, while another tech was keeping me occupied by asking me questions and talking about her life. I just tried to focus on anything BUT the fact that blood was literally draining from my body. (** side note: I'm totally squirming as I tell this story.) Ok.. so I was doing really well and I filled up the bag (a whole pint) and then they took out the needle. I was SO proud of myself. At this point the girl who was talking to me started to handle the blood bag that was underneath me. This was MY blood bag and she lifted it up right in front of MY face so I could see ALL the blood that I no longer had in my body. It took about 20 seconds for me to feel like I was going to vomit. They all assured me that I'd be just fine and that I would not throw up. I didn't. About a minute later, I started telling them that I was going to pass out and they said, once again, that I would not and I'd be fine and the next thing I knew... everything was black. As I was coming to, it felt like I was under water. My hearing came first and it was garbled and muffled and then as I was gaining back my other sensations, I felt cold on my chest and back where they had put ice packs on me and this very warm sensation down below. Before I even had my sight back, I had suspected that maybe I'd peed my pants. I started yelling... "I think I peed my pants.". When I did get my sight back, I looked down and lo and behold... I HAD peed my pants. All I could do was continue to make light of it, because seriously... HOW could that actually happen? I just went to the bathroom right before I donated and believe me.. what came out of me was not just a dribble. I was COVERED from my knees to above my hip. My jeans were obviously very absorbent. When you pass out, people don't just ignore you. You tend to draw attention to yourself. Just imagine me sitting in a cot, all the way reclined, white as a ghost and my pants completely soaked in PEE. I was mortified as soon as I quit screaming it to everyone. They were kind and gave me a towel to put over myself, but my blood pressure wouldn't stabilize, so they had to give me an IV. I was FREEZING and sitting in my own pee for about an hour and a half until I was able to get up and have my friend Cathy drive me home. I walked out of the office with a towel wrapped around me while I waved goodbye to a big group of my co-workers. It was loads of fun.

After the incident, I decided I'd better just come clean at work so that people weren't talking behind my back and making fun of me. I was pretty open about it and I just pretended like it was no big deal, which is how I feel about it now. I'm not shy about sharing the experience and I don't really find it humiliating anymore. This brings me to yesterday, our 3rd blood drive. I helped organize both the 2nd and 3rd blood drives and have yet to step up to give blood again for obvious reason. I haven't recognized any of the same people from the first drive and so I just figured they had a lot of people who worked there. After yesterday's drive, I was talking to one of the vampires (phlebotamists) and she gave me a total count for the day (21 - woo, hoo!!). She then went on to tell me how this was her third time at PSE. I was a little stunned, because I didn't really remember her from before. I looked at her and said, "uh.. so you must remember me, hu?". She looked at me and said VERY enthusiastically... "Yes, I do. And I know why you didn't donate today." It turns out that I AM humiliated about the experience when I know that someone else was actually there to witness it. I can SAY I peed my pants and that is one thing, but when someone SAW me pee my pants... UMMMMMMM..... WAY more humiliating. I also realized that she was probably privy to the thank you card I sent to the people who helped me, in which I apologized for peeing their cot.

Scratch That

I'm up early. Couldn't sleep. Couldn't stop peeing all night. Normally, if I wake up early, I'll still be able to fall back asleep about the time my alarm goes off and it will end up a normal day, because I'll still arrive to work well beyond regular working hours. I could just get up and get ready right now, but my house is FREEZING and I'm not all that keen on being naked in my COLD, COLD house. I used to love the cold and I had no tolerance for heat. Now, I'm becoming quite the opposite. I'm always cold and when I go to visit my mom, who has central air, I have to borrow a coat or go sit in the sun every 20 minutes to warm up.

I woke up thinking I'd take pictures of my cute flower pots and then post them, but it seems dawn is not the best time for flowers. They don't wake up until later, kind of like me. I'm a bit disappointed, because I really love my flowers. They make me happy and I've been meaning to show the world how cute they are. I'll have to scratch that idea for today.

I guess I'll get myself REALLY hot with the hair dryer and then try to brave the shower.

As I Wait for My Melatonin to Kick in

I know, everyone else posts while they are on Ambien or some other incredibly powerful sleeping pill and I post while on Melatonin. It's powerful to me and that's all you need to know. I'm already feeling the buzz and if I were speaking.. it would be slurred. I just snored a bit. Really. Awake snoring has to be way worse than asleep snoring.

Today, I wished I had brought my camera with me. I helped my mother bathe all 3 of her cats on the lawn. We rigged up the hose to the washing machine so it was a warm bath and then captured them all and hosed them down. This proved to be much more efficient than trying to hold a cat still in the slippery sink while they try to claw at anything that will give them leverage. More often than not, they find that leverage in your arm or boob or some piece of flesh. Turns out the grass works well as a substitute scratching post. It was very comical and cats always look so funny when you get them wet. You realize how much of their body shape is really just airy hair. We did my cat Scooter first and then stuck him in the dog crate to dry while we did the other two, because otherwise, he will attack the other cats. Jack is really whiny and cries like a baby over anything. When Scooter hears his yowling, he goes nuts and tries to attack him. I think he must mistake it for being called out. He's a little over amped and eager to fight. Last year when I was living with my parents, I woke up to this really awful screaming. I walked into the kitchen to find my mother chasing after Jack. She was trying to get him in the cat carrier to take him to the vet and she was simultaneously trying to get Scooter in a carrier too. Jack was crying again... see what I mean by being a baby?.. anyway, he was crying and as my mom was trying to shove him in the carrier on top of the counter, Scooter jumped up and tried to attack him. The carrier fell off the counter and Jack ran for his life and hid downstairs while Scooter chased him. It was quite the scene. My mom was in tears and I was in stitches.

And now... I'm in la, la land. Must be time to attempt sleep again. I just cannot stretch my legs. I'm having nightmares about getting another charlie horse. I'm such a wimp. They totally suck though. Everyone should be required to experience one at some point in their life so they know what I mean.

A List

I was thinking about all the boys that Michelle has dated who I had a crush on. I thought I'd make a list.

1. Nate Madsen - Technically.. we all loved him and I knew him first. Michelle just kissed him first.
2. Clayton Miller - He gave me a tennis lesson once and I wore my best new pair of shorts with stripes on them. Looking back.. I can't believe I thought they were cute.
3. Denny Bird - Another guy we (Michelle, Kim & Teresa) all loved. He kissed both Michelle and Kim and I was the friend.
4. Jeremy Lindley - He and I took Spanish and Farm and Ranch together. He wasn't very nice to me. Can't recall why I thought he was so great.
5. Stanford Richins - Ended up being my best friend, but I wished and wished that our relationship could be something a lot more substantial, like husband and wife. Now, I'm glad it didn't end up that way, but I still miss hiking with him and him risking my life and then telling me about it after the fact.

Huuuummmmm.... I guess that's it. That isn't as bad as I thought. Considering how many guys Michelle actually dated in her life, I'd say that is maybe 10%. So, we have the same taste in men about 10% of the time.

Chasing Horses

No, this is not my mind blowing post. I will confess that I actually forgot what I was going to write about that was so great. This is one of those posts that happens far too late at night and is due to spending the entire day alone, with the exception of a few minutes spent petting a couple of cute cats. I managed to ignore the fireworks again and spent the day working and catching up on Men In Trees episodes. Truly... that is a great place for them.. in trees, like little birdies. They can still poop on you from there too. :)

I did my first walk at the Park this morning. It was nice to get out and I was so proud of myself, because I thought it was 2 miles around the park only to find out that it's actually 1.25 miles. I walked, because I'm out of shape and thought it would be wise to start slow. I came back after and took a tiny nap and when I woke up and stretched, I got a charlie horse in my leg. I'm ever so careful of stretching my right leg a certain way upon waking, because it tends to seize up on me often, but it has never happened to my left leg. Poor leg. It hurts a lot and all I can do is force myself to relax and breath and wait until it lets up. Now, I'm afraid to even move my leg in bed. It's so hard to control that stretching reflex and it feels SOOOOOOO good. I feel punished by my body!

Speaking of horses... I have been thinking about riding again. I have been getting the urge for an adrenaline rush, which I haven't experienced in a long time. I get it from exercise, especially from hiking and pushing myself up a mountain and I used to get it from riding. The horse becomes this much larger extension of yourself and it is almost as if you gain all that power and strength and it gives you this freedom of motion you can't get by yourself. I really miss that. I don't miss cleaning stalls and I don't miss brushing down a horse and picking their feet. After doing that to as many horses as I have, it really loses its charm. If I were rich, I'd be one of those people who pays someone else to tack up my horse and bring her to me where I'd just hop on. When I was done, I'd give her back and say.. thank you!

I have a date tomorrow for a horse bath. My parents still have a little quarter horse named Susie and she is very dirty. I told my mom I'd come over and help her bathe her and if we felt really ambitious, we might try bathing the cats too.

Susie after a bath

While I'm Eating....

I was going to post something so mind blowing while I eat, but I just realized that I don't actually have time. I also inhaled my Cafe Rio tostada in about 3 minutes, so I'm not actually eating anymore. I'm having aftershocks after running into a guy from high school who I had a HUGE crush on. Turns out, he's still cute and can still make me nervous enough to actually feel shaky. Probably why I gulped my food. Thanks Clayton!

Be warned... there is a mind blowing post in my future. :)

Don't Be Afraid....

So... I hung out last night with my friend Tammy. She is loads of fun for anyone who has never spent time with her. We went to the Arts Festival, which was kind of lame in my opinion, especially compared to the Farmers Market, but that isn't my point. We went, the company was great and then we came back to my house and decided to rent a movie. Tammy has been bugging me to see the movie, "Signs" for a while. I know it's about aliens, which is why I've yet to see it. It is one of two things that will still spook me as an adult. I've given up the Boogie Man and that guy who has a hook on his hand and climbs on top of your car at night, waiting to jump on your windshield where he will reach in and kill you. I've given up the idea that serial killers are stalking me, but I've still retained a space in my brain that can ignite the fear of aliens and ghosts. Therefore... I do not see movies about them or talk about them. It was a really special exception that I made for Tammy, because she was SO excited for me to see the movie, which she has seen MULTIPLE times. I asked Tammy what she would do if I got really scared and she looked at me with this sweet face and said... "I'll hold you."

So.. we are both watching the movie in my bed, because that's where my TV is and I have retained control of the remote so I can mute and fast forward as I need to. The mute worked, but fast forward was a bust, so I just screamed a lot and covered my eyes during the parts where something was about to jump out at me or where I thought I'd have to see an alien body. Ugh! Anyway... turns out that the movie was not really that scary. The last scene where they actually show you the alien, was so lame! He didn't look anything like what my scary alien looks like. This alien was seriously stupid. The aliens of my nightmares are all knowing and they can read your mind and beam you up in your own room without a single soul detecting their presence. They might be skinny, but they have super strength and could blow on you and knock you down. This alien was a green freak that could be killed with a drop of water. COME ON!

The best part of the entire night..... After the movie, Tammy was too scared to go home and sleep by herself. I was kind and I let her sleep over and even told her she could leave the light on if she needed to.

The Cruel Things I Do To Cats

I will admit that I sort of like dressing up my cats. When I was a kid, I used to dress up the dogs in my shirts and though they didn't love it, they tolerated it. My cats look so cute in clothing, but they act as if it immobilizes them and they can't move. I find it rather amusing but I know it's totally sick and twisted.

Scooter trying to look as masculine as possible in a ridiculous tee shirt.

Kit with her classic pirate look. Her eye is fine. She just does it to look cool.

Jack working his way up the cat post. It took him a good 3 minutes to figure it out with the shirt on. I should have helped him, but instead.. I got out the camera.

Why It Takes Me So Long To Get To Work

I'm no early riser. I'm NOT a morning person. The other day, I woke up, looked in the mirror and found my reflection to be quite extraordinary. This is a morning after a particularly difficult night, but ... STILL... HOLY SHIT! Look at my hair.

Hung Up

I don't know why, but whenever I find a mistake and I have to fix it, I get SO hung up about it. I instantly feel depressed and frustrated and I let fly out of my mouth... that word I like to use. I hate it when people make mistakes or make changes and then it ends up affecting multiple things. I hate having to back track to all the areas it will affect to make sure they get fixed. This is pretty much how my job works. I work in a system that connects to so many other areas of other systems and when one thing is wrong, it means that 5 things are wrong. I can handle fixing ONE thing, but I'm sick of chasing down the other 5. It's a mistake, you do your job, you fix it, etc. It's my reaction to it lately that is really bugging me. I hate that I'm so reactive to it. I hate that I can't go with the flow. I hate that I can't just let it blow by me and take it one step at a time and just fix it without it frustrating me so much. I resent the wasted time. I resent that nobody knows how much time it costs me. Not one mistake, not one change, but the multiple mistakes and changes that add up when people everywhere do what they do without knowing how it affects ME.

Today, I was very rude to a water filtration salesman. He had made an appointment with another girl at work and she was at a loss as to how he got her name. We already have a filtration system and I've been hounded by several sales people regarding a new one. I've told them repeatedly that I'm not interested and that I don't have the time. I did not know where this guy came from or if he was associated with that company, but I went down there anyway to tell him that he was not welcome. He looked like I'd kicked him in the balls and Heike looked a little stunned that I could be so bluntly rude. Part of me felt bad that I wouldn't have been a little warmer, but part of me was ok about just saying what I wanted to say, which was NO!

I'd like to be that person who is breezy and who just deals with life as if it's no big deal. I don't know if I have that in me. I'm not breezy by nature. I'm uptight. I'm detail obsessed. I'm having strange body twitches that are really freaking me out... holy! Just had a body earthquake. My entire chest twitched and if anyone just saw me, they would think I had some odd disease. Back to the point... I am ... not in a good mood. How can a person be breezy when they are pissy? Not such an easy thing to accomplish.

BURNT TOAST

I'm there. I've reached that point where I don't know if I can go on another step. I'm SO exhausted, so mentally shorted, so emotionally numb when it comes to the place where I work. I've been squeezed so much and I have nothing left. I haven't had a vacation in years perhaps? I get really pissy when I hear other people talking about going to Hawaii or even just out of town with other people they like. I have plenty of vacation time saved up, but not really enough money to go and do something I would enjoy and not really anyone who is available to do it with me. I want to have enough money to go somewhere and enjoy myself to such a degree that I don't remember what is waiting for me back home.

I'm just so damn tired!

Keeping the Faith

Let me start out by saying how truly, truly exhausted I am at this very moment. I have no idea why I would even consider staying awake to write this post, but... here I am.

I'm curious how many people have faith in other people. Do you think that all the people in the world who are a detriment to humanity will figure it out or do you believe that it's a lost cause and that society as a whole will continue to crumble?

I have a sort of enduring faith that people will eventually wake up and understand a better way. I also believe that sometimes the darkest parts of ourselves can lead us to the brightest parts. I certainly have had dark days and continue to experience set backs within myself, but I always climb out of it a little stronger, a little more in charge of myself and a little more sure of what is right. I think that negativity can often be a catalyst for positive change and a deeper sense of what is real and good.

That is what I believe. What do YOU believe?

Ode to Dad

I wrote an Ode to Mom for Mother's Day and thought it would be fitting to do the same for my father. This one will be a little different as my relationship with my dad is different, but I have come to a point in my life where I see and accept my dad for who he really is. There was a good portion of my life where I might not have seen that so clearly. While my dad is certainly not perfect, he is an amazing person and I've had 30 years of experience to reference.

My dad is a big, gruff guy. He has biceps that require a special blood pressure cuff. He has forearms that look like Popeye. He's not a small man by any stretch of the imagination. He has a presence that can fill a room. Not in the sense that he demands attention or that he's loud, but he definitely sticks out in a crowd.

When I was a kid, I remember my dad coming home from work and he would always play games with me. My father is very competitive and he taught me to be competitive. He also taught me to be very strong and to be very hard headed. Some of that may just be that I inherited many of his personality traits, but I also learned some. Dad and I fight to the death and we have literally been so competitive at times to get in the last word that we have gone to the extreme of yelling it and then running OUT the door (me) while the other person went to the window (him) to yell it back. I, of course, was making a mad dash for my car, so I could pretend I didn't hear him. It doesn't matter how minuscule the point is, he and I will fight over the issue and make claims that often have no merit other than the amount of desire we both have for it to be one up on the other person. This all happens mostly with laughter in the background. Sometimes tears are involved (me), but as I've gotten older, I've learned how to beat him more often, so the tears don't flow so easily.

Beyond the fun and games and laborious competition, my father is a very good man. He is the guy who will shovel the entire street with his machine in the winter when the plows are too slow. He is the guy who drove over 3,600 miles to bring my horses out to school. He repeated it again a few months later when I decided that I wanted to quit and he didn't hold it against me and he never questioned me. He is one of the most accepting people in the world. My dad takes people at face value.

My dad is great at making sure you don't die. I was at home one afternoon and I was cleaning the kitchen. I'm ever so slightly anal retentive and I was cleaning out the crumbs from the toaster. As I flipped the bottom of the toaster open, it sliced my thumb and I was bleeding profusely. Ok.. it wasn't THAT bad, but for me.. it felt like a mortal wound. My dad had just walked out the door a few seconds before it happened so I ran out the door with a towel on my finger to flag him down and he came in the house to assess the situation with a sincere look of concern. I couldn't look at it, because I knew I'd see my bones or all the squiggly things one has in their finger. I was kneeling down on the floor with my hand above my head on the counter, screaming and crying like an idiot. He looked it over, cleaned it, put a bandage on it and fixed me up. I nearly lost consciousness due to the high volume of "perceived" blood loss, but he talked me through it and I'm alive today because of it. It's one of my best "dad took care of me stories".

My dad taught me how to do a few things like hammer a nail, drive a post into the ground and operate most of his machines. Much of what I learned was just by following him around and pestering him to show me, but I always wanted to be like my dad. I thought he was the coolest person alive when I was a kid. He could do just about anything and what he couldn't, he still thought he could so I was totally convinced. My dad is an artist and is always uncovering new talents and abilities. From sculpting rocks to photography to the finish work he and my brother do on the homes they build. He isn't afraid to try anything. He even took a hip hop class at the gym and was a faithful student for many weeks. Always in the back, a few steps behind everyone else, but having fun all the same. He's been pestering me to go to the bar to sing karaoke with him for a few years now. We sing our duets at home, but I'm the one who is a little fearful to take it public. He's already done a solo.

My dad and I are similar in temperament, but different in thought process. I hug cats and he chases them. I like garden burgers and he likes sausage. I drive a foreign car, he's totally opposed to them. We are like night and day in so many ways, but in spite of the fact that my dad has poor taste in food and refuses to make his secret affection for cats public, I do love him dearly. I can be in a horrible mood and then I hear my dad laughing from the television room at the stupidest comedy. It always puts me in a good mood, because he has a great, infectious, ridiculous laugh, which come to think of... I think I may have inherited my ability to laugh from him too. Thanks dad for all you are and for being who you are in my life.

Love,

Your Favorite Daughter :)