How the Radio Makes Me Hate Most Songs

First DJ- WOW!!!  This is an AMAZING song.  It is so truly original!!!
Second DJ- You are correct, my good Sir.  How long do you think it will take before we totally suck the life out of it, and make most of our listeners complete despise it?
First DJ-  Good question, my man!  With a song this great, it is going to take a bit of effort on our part.  Let's start out with the obvious:  We will play this song at LEAST twice and hour, every hour.
Second DJ- Great start!  I think I will call our sister stations and let them join in, and with careful planning we can make sure the song has almost continuous play time!
First DJ- FANTASTIC thinking!  You are on FIRE!!  I think we should let this go on for a few months.  But, you know, this song has a pretty unique beat.  I suspect some people may be pretty hard to flip from loving it to the pure hate that we are trying to accomplish.
Second DJ- NO WORRIES.  While we've been talking, I laid out a fresh new dance beat we can use on our song.  And when I say "fresh new beat", of course I am being completely ironic.  Now it can sound like every other song we play on our station, with only a hint of what made anyone love it in the first place!!!
First DJ-  I knew there was a reason I hired you!!  Let's get going!  This song isn't going to get hated all by itself!

The Good Life and Why I Shouldn't Watch Documentaries

I'm technically off of work for the summer, but today I am filling in for a co-worker.  The previous three days of this week, however, have been stupendous.  Things aren't exactly getting done with the reckless abandon I had hoped for, but I have enjoyed the slower pace of life.

I've managed to get my house (mostly) in order (although it could always fall apart again at any moment), go on a couple long walks/runs (well, I ran for a couple minutes; it was mostly fast walking), read a book, learned a new song with Derrin on our guitars, and go on a mom/daughter date with Kloe.

We are going camping/motorcycle riding this weekend, so Derrick and I finally went out and bought some safety gear for Derrin and myself (to share, since we also share a motorcycle).  For once we won't look like the only redneck riders in the bunch.  I'm relieved to have finally spent the money on the gear.  I had some gnarly wrecks the last time we did a moto trip, and I was very fortunate that I didn't end up getting really hurt.  This time I'm planning on NOT trying to keep up with the big boys, and mainly just trusting Derrick to take me out on the trails so I don't end up over my head again.

Kloe and I went out for sushi and shopping for our mom/daughter date.  The boys went to see Iron Man 3, us girls did our own thing instead.  After we went home and Kloe went to bed, I started thumbing through Netflicks, trying to find shows that I would normally only watch if Derrick isn't around (chick flicks and documentaries).  I watched one PBS documentary about what successful relationships have in common.  I enjoyed it, but it's light fluffiness made me feel like diving into darker documentary terrain.

It had been awhile since I'd watched a serious documentary.  I tend to go a little crazy over anything more serious than about what crap our food supply is, and even those tend to make me wander around the grocery store picking up items, putting them down, and then leaving with nothing but (organic) bananas and (organic) milk.   I was looking through some of my older blogs, and found this one about the time I watched a documentary called "Collapse".  Because of that documentary, that summer I convinced my poor father to plant tons of potatoes in his field.  Waaay too many potatoes for any one family to eat unless there was, in fact, the widespread famine they were intended for.  Clearly, documentaries are not my friend.  Sometimes, I just need to depend on my more informed and calmer type friends.

Anyways, I found a BBC documentary about Hiroshima.  It called to me; we all grow up knowing that the bomb was dropped over there, and of course we all know intellectually that it was horrible, but I'd never really taken the time to find out the whole story.  The documentary told the story with old movie footage, and first person accounts with reenactments.  The escalation of events was intense.  It might as well have been a horror movie.  By the time the bomb actually dropped out of the plane, I was following several experiences of what regular Japanese people were doing on that day, including a doctor, a nurse, a bank teller, and a husband and wife having breakfast and playing with their two young children.  These were all just normal people who had absolutely nothing to do with what their wacked out powers-that-be were up to (and the powers-that-be were truly mad), and yet they were the ones to pay a truly nightmarish price.

The portrayal of the city going through the annihilation was so incredibly realistic.  The people who vanished instantly in the eye of the bomb were the fortunate ones.  For the survivors on the edges, the sky was black, and everything was completely blown to bits and on fire.  I watched it as long as I could.  The story that finally made me burst into tears and frantically turn it off, knowing I'd have never be able to scrub it out of my brain, was about the young family who'd been having breakfast together.  The last scene was of the mother stumbling out of her crumbled house, screaming for her children, only to discover that one of them was half buried in the rubble, and there was no way she'd be able to get her out before the oncoming flames consumed her.  Even in my worst nightmares I have never thought of something so horrible.

The whole thing made me think of North Korea.  I read a lot of the articles about their leader's big talk and threats, but beyond the articles I always read the reader's comments below.  There are so many people think that preemptively nuking that country is the answer.  It makes me sick.  I hate how easy it is for humans to strip others of their own humanity.  It makes the whole "might making right" so much easier when you don't have to think about all of the babies and innocents that get fried so you can dominate whatever wack job is threatening you.  Man, I hate this world sometimes.  Once again, yes I know that this isn't how it is always going to be, but sometimes I can hardly take the present.   And that is the end of that rant.

Until next time....

What I CAN Control

Sometimes this world offers us a situation that rocks our world because evil has shown it's face, and we struggle knowing we have very little power to keep it from showing it's face again.

The knowledge that some madmen shot and killed 20 precious little kids last Friday in Connecticut is devastating.   Yesterday at work, I was browsing some news articles during a quiet moment, and clicked into an interview of one of the little girl's parents.  How I thought I could handle that, I don't know, but the next thing I knew I was in the bathroom unable to stop crying.  Reading about a parents worst nightmare come true will do that to a lot of people. 

This situation immediately brought up the debate of gun control.  I don't have strong opinions about the matter.  But, my life has taught me a few lessons concerning guns that I implement into my own life. 

Being raised in Montana has put me in close personal contact with a lot of hard core hunters.  I was raised in a house that had lots of rifles, and other guns.  My parents always had a giant handgun that Dad kept under his side of the bed.  As a child, unbeknownst to my parents, I always knew about that gun. I used to go lay on the floor by their bed and take it out to examine.  It wasn't like they hadn't talked to me about the dangers of guns; they had.  I knew I was forbidden from even touching the hunting rifles that they kept downstairs.  But I was very curious about the forbidden and hidden hand gun under the bed.  I remember holding my finger on the trigger, but I never had the guts to actually pull it.  It probably wasn't loaded, but it just demonstrates how easily something could happen when a gun is in the house.

When I was about six, I used to play with the grandchildren of a lady who owned the little cafe in Paradise; a litte boy and girl about my brother and my ages.  I wasn't super close with them or anything, but if I was out wandering through Paradise looking for an adventure (at six I'm pretty sure I wasn't "allowed" to just wander either, but I did pretty often- consequences always waiting for me when I returned) and they were out, I would play with them.  One day I overheard my parents talking about the grandchildren at the cafe.  The little boy had been playing with a gun and accidentally shot and killed his sister.

As I grew up, there were other times I heard about kids playing with guns and having horrible consequences.

I went to hunters safety when I was around fourteen; sort of a rite of passage for all Montana kids.  Even though I was never to be a hunter (I have never shot a gun at anything more than a beer bottle, not for any bad feelings about guns but because I don't like the taste of wild game, or any red meat for that matter), I at least learned to really respect guns.  As far as having guns for hunting, I have nothing against it.  Every year I do hear about hunting accidents where someone has been accidentally shot, but to me that adds up to there is some risk to almost any activity, and a hunter has made the conscious decision and decided the risk was worth it.

When I see people talking about their "rights" to bear arms, it usually has nothing to do with hunting.  It is always toted as self-defense against the bad guys.  The thing is, in all of my 36 years, I have rarely heard of a bad guy getting shot by the good guy in a moment of self-defense.  I have, on the other hand, heard of lots of innocent people being accidentally shot by their own (or their parents) guns.

I have absolutely NO IDEA why anyone would need an assault rifle.  The mother of the guy who shot all of the kids actually ENCOURAGED him to practice shooting her guns at a shooting range because she thought it was good for him to handle something that "required so much respect".  It wasn't in SPITE of his mental instability that she did this, it was BECAUSE of his mental instability that she chose to do this.  As some sort of mental and emotional therapy.  Okay, where was the disconnect between her brain cells in this situation? 

Personally, I hate guns.  As an adult and a parent, I have never wanted them in my house.  Derrick "inherited" a hand gun from his brother, but it stays locked up in a safe where my kids will never be tempted to touch it.  It DOES have a purpose for us, however.  We take it with us whenever we go on our long hikes in the mountains of Montana.  But it is a weighed decision of what danger to us is greater, the bears or the gun.  I'd rather never have that gun with us, but I'd also rather not be eaten by a bear.  So, obviously there are times when guns are good for self-protection.

When my kids are old enough, I want both of them to take hunters safety.  I don't know if either of them will ever choose to be hunters, but I feel the same way about hunters safety as I do about swimming lessons.  I want them to have the knowledge it takes to keep themselves and others safe (as far as they can help it).  I may not be able to control other people's opinion about how to manage gun safety, but I can control my attitude towards it, and also help my children know HOW to be safe around guns. 

Do I think there should be government enforced gun control?  This article talks about other countries who have used different gun control tactics with good results.  Evil isn't so easy to control, but making tools of mass destruction harder to come by would be a good start.  It isn't the permanent solution, but it would add a little more safety in the meantime.

It was hard sending the kids to school yesterday and today.  It is a knee jerk reaction to never send them to public school again, and to start them in home school.  I may actually decide to home school my kids someday, but if I do, it's not going to be a fear based decision. 

When I go to the mall or the movies, I always try to find escape exits and I scan the crowd looking for weirdos.  But I am not going to stop going to those public places. 

My job makes me nervous these days as well.  Yesterday, a guy came in and stood at my counter.  He held his hands below the counter awkwardly, and I kept waiting for him to put them where I could see them. It scared me; I completely visualized a hidden gun.  I work at a government funded office, and because of the nature of our programs and the help they offer, the people who walk through those doors are not always mentally or emotionally well.  Also, people don't always get the financial help that they think they deserve in some of our other programs.  We have all dealt with angry (and unbalanced) people there. We have a protocol to follow if anyone ever comes in to cause mayhem; hopefully it would help most people stay safe.  However, I am at the front desk.  But I am still going to go to work there. 

Every day I have a choice.  I can choose to live every day in fear and let my world get smaller and smaller or I can choose to LIVE in spite of the danger.  I hope I always choose to really live, even knowing that this world comes with no guarantees of safety.

much ado

I really should be making dinner right now instead of writing a blog post.  I really should be buying groceries so I can start dinner pretty soon instead of writing this blog post.  Instead I am sitting here, perusing the internet,  and listening to my kids making crazy noise outside of the house (outside lest the crazy infect me too).  I'm thinking it's a pizza night. 

It's already getting dark outside.  Yesterday was daylight savings in the direction of falling back, which is much easier than springing forward.  I have nothing against falling back, but I hold a huge vendetta against springing forward as that one hour of stolen sleep takes me about 6 weeks to adjust to every year.  One can not fall back as an option every time, however.  Apparently, we can't just leave time alone either. 

Things have quieted down around here lately.  I'm super busy still, but the lack of any current trauma has me floundering.  What in the world is there to do if I can't be obsessing about anything specific?  My monkey mind can't even seem to drudge up imaginary things to worry about at the moment.  What in the world am I supposed to write about?!? 

While I ponder, I thought I might post some pictures I took this fall at my friend Deana's place:

Cool Old Car:  Pretty sure my Dad would approve

What is it with me and rusty old chains... sure there must
be some deeper meaning here. 

Little Blue Eyed Horsie

Horse striking a mysterious and nonchalant pose

Some Pictures That Made Me Smile This Week

I have a lot of friends and family who are on crazy awesome vacations right now.  That sounds pretty nice.  Someday I will go to Istanbul and Greece. 

I have a friend who is writing a newspaper column and doing a crazy writing challenge of like 1600 words a day for a month.  I am super impressed and inspired.

I have a friend who responded to a stressful situation by tiling the walls to her laundry room and doing a complete redo on her art room.  This too inspires me.

Now that basic order has been restored again, I need to add some excitement back into this mix; the final ingredient to surviving winter once again.

One of my favorite blogs- Hyperbole and a Half

I am saving this picture- a sweet find!  Ammunition in the mental game that is poker.  :)

Laundry, Schedules and Other Interesting Topics

Been meaning to update in here for awhile, but actually being able to find the time and the desire and the words to write down has been beyond me for weeks.  So, it is 2:37 AM, a time when I should be snuggled up in bed, toasty and asleep.  For some reason my brain decided to snap back to attention at 1:30 AM.  Instead of fighting it, I came out into the living room thinking I would be super woman and write something in here.  Instead I started doing the inevitable Internet surfing, in which I find myself looking at random pictures of Maine Coons and catching up on my favorite blogs written by other people. 

Tomorrow I don't go to work until noon.  This house is a WRECK.  I have ambitious plans of doing many loads of laundry, cleaning everything, vacuuming and scrubbing and making this place sparkle all before I leave the house.  If nothing else, I will make a big enough dent in the wreckage so that when I walk through the door upon returning from work, I won't get that fight or flight response I had today when I got home.

I was so on top of all of this too!  For the last couple of weeks I have been following a schedule religiously.  There are days for working for the business to chip away at the list our accountant gave me and balance QB. Days for cleaning the house and doing laundry. This all mixed in with working at my part time job and getting back into my regular running/exercise schedule, while still making sure the kid's homework is done, their rooms are being cleaned, groceries are bought, and meals are created.  Things were under control!!  I was giving myself pats on the back for the consistent organization that I'd accomplished in my life for many many days in a row. 

This weekend my dad got really sick and had to be hospitalized.  I spent most of the weekend over there with him, trading off and on with my siblings until he felt well enough to leave today.  He still doesn't feel awesome, but he's happy to be out of the hospital (he's staying at my sister's house for now).  It was a pretty chaotic weekend for all of us.  Lots of sleep deprivation and taking care of things more important than laundry and cleaning stuff.  Oh well, those things always wait for me.

Besides the craziness of this weekend, I am feeling better (since my last couple of blog posts).  The vitamins, candida cleanse, running, and getting rescheduled in life all seem to have finally kicked in.  Just in time for winter, which was what I hoped would happen.  I think I will survive in one piece now.  Another thing that I just started about two and a half weeks ago (with Shannon) is a workout called Body Pump.  It is a brutal workout that engages all muscle groups with thousands of reps to music for about an hour just a couple times a week.  I feel so much mentally clearer since I started going.  The hour of pain is definitely worth it.

Different topic... We took the kids to a pool party last night.  Lots of their (and our) friends were there, and it was super fun.  A great way to avoid being at home on halloween night!  Mental note: must do this again next year.

Well, this has been a lot of rambling.  It's been fun, but I think I am tired now.  Gonna go to bed and hope for a fabulous four hours of sleep before I get up again and start kicking butt (maybe) and get reschedulized.

Being Finite is Lame

It's 9:10 am.  I'm sitting here drinking my coffee, wondering why in the world I feel so anxious. 

I've been off work for almost two weeks now.  If things were going according to plan, I would be rocking life at this exact moment.  Instead I am sitting here completely overwhelmed and kind of sad. 

It's raining again out there, buckets of the stuff.  It's darkish for morning.  I can hear the rain pelting against our roof.  It's so quiet in here. 

I have so much to do.  My house has still not completely recovered from the camping bomb.  I need to reconcile quick books, pick up the mail, and do some business stuff. 

I wanted to run this morning, but running in the rain just isn't as magical to me as it used to be (and that is said with sarcasm). 

I have friends and family I'd really love to be visiting, and I hope that the last couple weeks isn't a preview of this summer, or I'll never get to just take off to be with them. 

And yes, I do realize that I just got to go camping with a bunch of friends this weekend.  But I feel like complaining, and this is MY blog, so complain I will. 

Is it too much to ask for to have infinite time for:  Being with friends and my family, taking pictures, learning to play my guitar better, painting, learning how to make stamped jewelry, working in my yard, blogging, and reading?  And is it so much to ask for the sun to just keep shining and for the darned rain to just go away? 

I don't think so.

Running Talk: Litter, Bad Parking Choices, and Flower Stalking

Today while running, in the theme of pretending to be elsewhere, I imagined I was in Mexico.

Some of the key things I remember from my Mexico times are warm breezes, ocean air, and the trash piled up for miles along the road.  I actually did experience two out of those three things today.  One of those things I did not enjoy.  At.  All.

Most of the time I just try to ignore the litter, but some times it just makes me SO MAD.  Ugh.  I hate terms like "trashy people", but maybe some people have earned the title with their joyrides at 2:30 in the morning where they fling beer cans, bottles filled with chewing tobacco, and fast food bags indiscriminately out their car windows and into ditches.

Pieces of litter feel like little brain bombs just waiting for me to see them. They burst into my happy little bubble of jogging and appreciation of nature.  I have to fight dwelling on them, because they drag me down.  It's hard to keep running when I feel angry and depressed about other people's selfish choices.  Just as in life, I have to look back up, forget about the trash, and move forward.

While I'm going down this negative road filled with memories of road trash, I think I will mention one more unpleasantry I've encountered out there:  Random cars that drive past me and then park right along where I will have to run past. 

I'm not talking about people in residential areas who are pulling into their driveways.  I'm talking about a dirt road that goes for miles, where you have the choice to park anywhere along those miles but you still choose to park directly in my path.

I don't care if you are an eighty year old woman who is making the choice to pull up and park right in my running path; it creeps me out!  I don't know that you are an eighty year old woman; all I know is that there is a car that may or may not represent danger to me. 

Obviously these people don't realize I am packing a very dangerous and loaded can of pepper spray which I HAVE PRACTICED using.  It sprays a full eight feet, Buster, and I'm not afraid to use it.

Speaking of creepy, how weird (or criminal) would it be for me to start meandering into people's yards to take snapshots of their flowers?  There are a lot flowers I'd love to shoot when I'm out jogging by houses. And I don't mean little blackberry camera shots; I'm thinking of bringing back the big camera that I wish I was tough enough to carry while I run.

Anyway, I'd probably only give flower stalking a 4/10 rating of creepiness..

Random Things I Saw While Running Today

Baby Cows!

Lots of Dead Things!

Flowers and Mountains!

Hair and Brains

I'm sitting here, playing with features blogger offers, while Derrick watches yet another episode of 'The Twilight Zone'.  Good ol' Netflicks, bringing out our inner geeks. 

Today was the last day of the Quickbooks class I have been taking.  It wasn't too long into the first day that I realized that it isn't the actual program I have a problem with. I don't admit this to everyone because it is just so wrong and laughable, but I actually went to school for computer programming back in the days when I thought the left side of my brain would eventually fill out, plump up, and become fully developed and engaged.  I've accepted now that I will always have a lop-sided brain.  That's okay- I can stuff that side of my head and fake everyone out most of the time.  I did learn enough in school to understand the basic workings of most programming (hey, I even got pretty good grades).  Quickbooks is easy.  It's the accounting part that I don't understand.  I can, however, do data entry like nobody's business, so maybe I will be able to flub my way through and just keep a notebook handy for the hundreds of questions I'm sure I will have.

I had the worst hair day EVER today.  Derrick just told me I look crazy:/  Now he's saying I can't write that down.  Now he's shaking his head because I'm gonna keep on going until the antagonism stops.  STOPS I say!!!  It is bad.  I'm trying to grow out those rotten bangs I thought would be such a great idea last January.  What was I thinking?!?  It had been just enough years for me to forget the agony of growing out bangs.  I washed my hair last night and put it in braids, thinking it would save me time this morning if I could just unbraid my hair and have it be wavy.  I do it to Kloe's hair all the time, and it looks cute.  It just didn't work for me.  The back was long and frizzy and the front was straight and trying to get in my eyes all day. I also had to wear my glasses cuz I've been out of contacts forever. It was a sit in the back of the class, and buy contacts immediately after class day.  Still have the crazy hair though (for now).

Tomorrow and Friday I am working a little later than usual.  Hopefully I'll be able to arrange going in later in the morning so I can run.  Now that the weather has been slightly nicer on a regular basis, I'm really trying to make it out there more.  I'd like to do the Mountain to Meadow 1/2 marathon again this June.  It almost May- time to start going for more miles. 

...

Ugh.  I am so flat emotionally right now.  It makes it really hard to write about anything.  It makes it hard to do anything, actually.  It's kinda nice out there, the kind of morning I should be excited about a good run.  Instead I am filled with an abundance of 'meh'. 

I was thinking about the friends and family I haven't connected with for a long time.  I didn't mean to, but somewhere along the way I withdrew again.

Wow, really having a hard time stringing sentences together.  Obviously the 'ol brain's not firing so well today.  Writing exposes how well the brain is doing just like running exposes how well the body is doing.  In my case, both seem to be having issues.

And that's all I gots today.

Party-Pooper

Soooo.  I am sitting here, all by my lonesome.  Everyone else is at a wedding reception, friends and family alike.  I'm feeling a little bad about not going.  I didn't feel like it... I know *LAME*

I am so introverted sometimes.  It goes beyond introversion actually.  Sometimes the thought of being around large groups of people is SO overwhelming to me.  I very seldom actually look forward to going to a party. Even when I will know a lot of people at a party (like tonight), I still don't ever really just *want* to go. 

The funny thing is that I did get ready to go to it.  I put on a cute dress, I curled my hair and did my make up with more than the usual care...  I was completely ready to go.  Then as we got closer to the kingdom hall, I just *did not* want to go in.  There were so many cars- I knew it was going to be packed in there.  So, instead Derrick and I messed around in town for a little while, and then went home.  We were planning on going to the reception, but then I didn't go to that either.  Derrick went- I just stayed home by myself.  A lot of times I will go if it's the only way that the kids will get to go, but they were able to have fun without my presence today.

*Sigh*

On the bright side, I did get most of my laundry done.  My house is super clean.  I got to eat ice cream, watermelon and pop corn for dinner, since I was the only one here.  I watched a new documentary about the wealthy in America. 

Oh well.  Someday I might develop the coolness it takes to go to parties.

In Tangles

Once upon a time there was a wife (we'll call her... Ann) and a husband (we'll call him Dan). They had a couple of children, one of whom was a boy named FrickoSan (he's not a big part of this particular story, as his hair is short and manageable... but now that I think about it, the time his parents spent on his sister's hair really did take away time spent with him) and a little girl (and her name.... Jan) who had beautiful long hair. Ann's mother (um.... Fran?) was the one who cared for Jan's hair, daily combing it and making long, manageable braids out of it. For years the girl's hair grew longer and longer, but thankfully Gramma Fran was there to keep it in order. Her momma Ann knew some of the basics- she knew how to run a brush through it now and again.  Mostly Ann just kept it from becoming a huge snarl; Gramma Fran was the true hair management.

One day, Gramma Fran decided that she was going to open a hair salon of her own, and she no longer had the time it took to untangled and manage Jan's super long hair. Ann thought that would be fine, because she knew the basics of brushing hair. For months, Ann would pull her brush through that long hair, but she had a lot of other things going on in her life that needed managing too.  Poor Jan's hair became more and more tangled, until finally it was just a giant knot on her head. The hair was too long to manage without the skilled hands of her Gramma, and Ann just didn't have the time to keep it under control.

Things started looking bleaker and bleaker. Ann didn't know what she was going to do about her daughter's hair. It had such potential for being beautiful, but it had gotten so tangled that it was going to take forever to get brushed out and in order again. Ann was torn between longing to have it brushed out (but by whom?) or just shaving it all off... but was shaving her daughter bald really the answer?

Her husband Dan would listen to her worry at night about what a mess the girl's hair had gotten in to. Dan wasn't too worried. He'd seen his wife brush the girl's hair many times throughout the years, and she always seemed to eventually get all of the tangles out. But one day he looked at his daughter and actually understood what his wife had been saying- if things got much worse, his poor daughter would definitely need to have her once beautiful hair shorn off.

Dan had never once brushed his daughter's hair, but he wanted to help. He didn't really think through this situation before he decided he was definitely the one who should save the day. If he would have made a list of some reasons why he was not qualified to be the hero of the situation, it would have looked something like:

•  Hadn't even brushed his own hair in years, ever since Ann decided she was better at it and would do it for him.
• Had only ever watched styling of Jan's hair from a safe hazy distance, never actually attempting to do any brushing or styling of it himself. 

Dan wasn't one to really sit down and think through a situation like that though, so he didn't. Plus, Dan really liked to impress his wife with his versatility and usefulness. They would save the day together. Or so he thought.

Gramma Fran came for a day to give Dan a crash course in french braidery, coiffery, bunnery, de-tanglery, deep conditionery, transfering braided sections from one side of her head to the other, and she also showed him where she stored all of the many styling aids needed for care of such long hair. It took the whole day, but when Gramma Fran left, Jan's hair looked beautiful.  Dan felt confident that he had the situation firm in hand. 

Later that night, Ann called for Dan to ask him about some new tangles that had just formed in little Jan's hair.  Dan was baffled- how could there already be tangles?  But he didn't worry too much; he was practically a professional after the time Gramma Fran had spent teaching him her hair moves. Plus it was the weekend, and a few tangles could certainly wait until Monday, so he didn't think much more about it for the next couple of days.

That Monday he grabbed his brush and really looked at Jan's hair closely for the first time in two days.  The mass of snarls looked almost as bad as it had before Gramma Fran had done her magic to it.  He gingerly tried to run his brush through it, but it seemed as though he was making it even worse. 

Dan's heart began to race, and a thought suddenly became very clear to him:  I don't know what I am doing!  What have I gotten myself into???

 ~The End~

Randomosity

1.  I've rediscovered Kate Bush.  I'd forgotten I had even ever known about her, for crying out loud, and her music exemplifies my favorite style of music; haunting, storytelling lyrics and wistful female lead vocals.  My point is, happy rediscovery!!!

2.  I've started running with pepper spray in hand.  HA!  Take that mountain lions, giant Runner-Devouring-German-Shepards,  and wanna be kidnappers.  Not that I've ever seen any of you (except for rogue dogs), but I know you've been hiding behind trees, just waiting to chew on my legs.  Hope you remember to stand still enough for me to squirt my spray in your eyeball.

 3.  There have been some "driving issues", of a demoralizing nature.  I started Monday off with a "BANG".  One minute I was just driving along, enjoying the morning sun which was almost blindingly bright light, and the next thing I know I'm flying full speed up over a curb that I didn't even see.  The road out there is pretty wide except for one spot that gets very narrow with a curb that juts out into the road as a defining feature of a crosswalk.  I've always hated that spot.  Shaken up, I got out to see the damage.  A guy stopped from his morning walk just to shout "TWO FLATS!!!"  Well, thank you for your caring observation, Mr. Walking Man.  So thankful for that useful information.  But really, I am okay. I can tell you are so worried as you scurry away with your good samaritan observation of the day checked off of your list. Glad I could help with that.

So, two flat tires.  Turns out my insurance covers towing.  The tow truck driver was very fun to talk to on the way to Les Schwab.  Hanging out with him, hearing his story of what it's like to be a tow truck driver, was the best part of the experience. 

Derrick was in a meeting seeing if he would be chosen for jury duty, so getting a hold of him was impossible until much later.  He was eventually dismissed just in time to decide that instead of two new snow tires, we'd go ahead and put regular tires on for Spring.  Then he took me out to breakfast/lunch, since this whole thing had started at 8:30 in the morning and I hadn't even had breakfast yet (noon and I was still wearing my pajamas, although they passed for regular clothes pretty well).  Between the new Spring tires and an eventual wheel replacement as well as two new winter tires, my little mistake turned costly.

4.  Add me to the list of people that the IRS likes to stress out.  That's all I'm gonna say about that one.

5.  Went to Thompson Falls last weekend and got to see my family and friends there.  Talked to Dad about eventually growing a lot of potatoes and organic food on his land.  This seems like a good idea because...

6.  ...we now are proud receivers of Netflicks, which includes a lot of instant movies and shows we can get off of our wii console, and this means a whole new world of DOCUMENTARY access has opened up to us.  I am GEEKING out.  Friday night (the night before the discussion with my dad about growing potatoes and organic food) I had the house to myself, so first I watched a documentary about "The Moment of Death", and then I watched one about the Solitary Confinement and the psychological consequences it induces, and continuing onward with my dark theme, we (Derrick was home for the last one) watched one called "Collapse" about the co-relation between oil and the world's economy, and how worldwide famine will soon be a reality (no problem believing that).  Needless to say, I started the weekend off with a macabre frame of mind. The weekend with my family, the Watchtower lesson at meeting on Sunday about the power Jehovah supplies through holy spirit (SUCH a good article!) and then the car issues on Monday helped bring me back to the present.  Still want to plant the potatoes and organic vegetables though, but more for the love of gardening and healthy food than for mass food storage.

7.  My kids would rather be inside, than out in the sun.  What's up with THAT?  I almost feel like re-messing up their rooms so I could tell them the choice is either clean their room or go outside.  Spring Break starts tomorrow.  I see I will need to come up with a threatening list of chores to point to any time they start giving me a hard time about going outside.

I Just Can't Get Rid of Rush Limbaugh

I can not stand Rush Limbaugh.  There, I said it.  Many years ago, pre-children or any awareness of anything political at all, I used to work at a clinic in the insurance department.  It was the most boring job I have ever had in my LIFE.  Every day was pure drudgery, misery and a wishing away of the hours until I could finally leave that mold infested building and go home.  Since the bulk of my day involved mindless data entry, I found that listening to books on tape helped the time go faster.  Somehow, the diabolical woman who I called my boss found out about my survival strategy, and made a new rule that we were only allowed to listen to the radio, as books on tape might be too distracting (and sanity saving; she liked us weak/crazy- easier to control that way) for employees to indulge in.  That was when I discovered public radio.  I started listening to talk shows around that time, mainly Rush Limbaugh and Dr. Laura (she is a whole other blog topic). 

I could care less about anything political in the world. While having a few sincere folks who try hard (but ineffectually) to make things better, for the most part human governments are purely wicked.  Listening to Rush Limbaugh didn't make me feel better or worse about Republicans or Liberal folks.  Rush Limbaugh just made me hate Rush Limbaugh the man.  Could anybody be more of a racist, nationalistic (in the flavor of everyone who doesn't believe the same as me and live in my country SUCKS), in love with his own voice, woman hating, know-it-all???  It didn't take long for me to vow never to listening to him voluntarily again.  I started listening to music radio to get through the work day and never looked back.

The only reason that I bring this up today is that we have surround sound in our house.  I really enjoy listening to Pandora from my blackberry- I just plug my blackberry into the music jack thingy, and my music is in every room.  The only problem is that in the master bathroom (where I listen to it the most when I get ready in the morning), I somehow get a phantom AM station that seems to ONLY ever have Rush Limbaugh on it.  Whenever Pandora pauses between songs or has a brain fart where is stops all together, there is his ratty hate mongering voice, rambling on.  I wonder how much of his words are seeping through my music and burrowing into my mind like misogynistic brain mites.  Seems that if that were happening it would be making me a more angry-ish person, and also chipping away at any sort of intelligence I may have.  I guess why I am writing this is as an explanation if I were to totally lose it any time soon.  You could blame it on life struggles, or this winter that seems like it will never end, but now you know: It was Rush Limbaugh's fault.

Rush Limbaugh- Only Swimsuit Models Have the Right To Promote Healthy Living

The River may TRY to kill me, But I will Always love IT

To start, a confession: I went to see the movie "Transformers" today. It is one of those movies that I have mocked since the beginning. A residual part of me from childhood remembers my brother playing with transformers in his geeky little boy way (which I now find endearing in my little son), and I just COULD NOT take the movie seriously. Today we went with Kevin and Alta because Kevin is one of those little boys who grew up playing with transformers.

The movie is good. I say that with difficulty because it means I am eatting crow. I really really liked it. There is really good character development, it is action pacted, the special effects are outstanding and it is even really funny in parts. I am now a lover of Optimus Prime and a hater of Megatron.

But on to real life. After we went to the movie, we all gathered to float the river which was AWESOME!!!! The weather was HOT and the water was COOL. The only snage-ups happened when the river tried to kill me. TWO times I got sucked under by BIG rocks, lost my tube. The first time I lost my Corona, the second time I lost my special Mexico hat and broke my new big sunglasses which also got lost on another rapid. All and all the river kicked my butt abosolutely. But I still love it. The river and I have that kind of abusive relationship I guess. I will love it no matter what!!!

While floating the river, drinking my Keystone light (after the Corona was seized by the river), I started to have an analogy form in my head: Floating the river is like Life. You can try to stay with your group as long as you can, but when hard times arrive (like rapids), it is easy to get seperated from the group. So, many times you will find yourself floating along by yourself and you will really have to paddle hard to get back to your group. You may also find sometimes on the river you have a choice: paddle toward the rapids and take a risk to have fun, or steer clear to safer waters.... ANDDD, we know we will all eventually hit big rapids in life, but why spend all of the calm waters worrying about the big rapids instead of just enjoying the fact that right now the water is cool, your friends are near and you have a beer in your hand?!?

Anyways, that is it for my big analogy. Hope you all have a good weekend. Later!

transformers and big sunglasses

I am sitting here at 11:00 at night, drinking a glass of wine, watching Jay Leno (actually waiting for Conan O'Brien, my one true celebrity crush). Derrick is gone until Friday (in Whitefish again), the kids are sleeping, and Mom went home with Dad today. The house is oddly quiet. Actually the fact that I am awake to enjoy the quiet house is odd. But I am not ready to go to sleep yet.

It is 82 degrees in the house. I am hot. If I could break away from the computer perhaps I would open the windows and then cool air would rush in and cool me off. But you see, I have a myspace addiction which rarely gets the satisfaction of several hours of wasted time spent on it. I must indulge, regardless of the discomfort of the sweltering heat of this house. I will endure!!!! Viva myspace!!!

As I was reviewing this week in my mind, moments of discomfort filtered to the front part of my brain (where they like to reside), and I am prepared to share them with you. They have to do with watching television with my Mom and husband in the same room when I am the one holding the remote control. You know all of the commercials they have nowadays... the ones that are funny when you and your hubby are alone? The ones advertising "male enhancement" or the girly ones urging to call, and so forth. Now, if I am alone with either my mom OR alone with my husband, I do not care what commercial comes on. Why in the world to I get all embarrassed when I have a husband on one side and a Mom on the other? Do I turn the channel or not?!?

(Okay, the windows are open... couldn't type with sweat falling all over... Derrick usually is the one to open windows... funny the things you don't appreciate about a husband until they are gone.)

I have a goal for this week. I am going to get some big sunglasses. Nokomis has a picture of her in big ones and she looks hot! I want to also look hot in big sunglasses. And there has been encouragement to go to the dark side from Melissa (hehe-dark side-sunglasses...), and I am prepared to convert for the weekend.

I've been thinking about my poor cat Gary alot today.. I think it has finally sunk in that he has moved on to another family. He always was the traveling sort. He was the sort of cat who would love you with all he had, but he still had to move on and see more of the world. I will miss him, but I am glad he is out there living his dream.

Thinking about Gary also made me think about my fish. I only have two left in my little pond in the front yard. Last Fall I didn't know if goldfish could live if you just left them alone in the pond to be frozen. I caught six out of seven fish and brought them inside. Only Fred escaped, and therefore lived. I have somewhat of a killer thumb when it comes to fish. Poor little fellows only made it a couple months. But Fred is alive and strong. We bought him a little friend, Stripey this spring so he wouldn't feel so alone. I hope that Stripey is a little girl fish, and they are having a torrid love affair in our little pond. I hesitate to add any other fish as Fred and Stripey seem so contented. This fall I will leave them to their own defenses to the winter, as they seem to have a better idea as to their survival than I do.

And that is all I have for the evening. Sorry people, but Jay Leno has some pretty impressive things on tonight... something about a Tranformer movie pilot... oh my goodness... I LOVE TRANSFORMERS. I have to say goodnight:)

The Self-Destruct Button (Distant evil cousin to Happy Place)

Does everyone have to struggle with a self-destruct button(also related to the easy way out card), or is it just me? I don't know why being true to who you are(which means only acknowledging the good parts*haha*) is so hard! Little Nuggets of darkness seem to be burrowed in my brain. I thought living my life right and creating a happy situation for myself would deactivate my counterproductive thoughts. That simply isn't true. They come out at night to push and prod. It doesn't matter how much I stand to lose.

I swear, the happier I am, the calmer things are around here (actually, now that I think about it things aren't calm around here at all... things are stressful and ever-changing at the moment, which also seems to be a trigger), the more the little voice in the back of my head goes,"Go ahead, do *insert whatever bad behavoir(say that part with a low, french accent*spongebob style*, it is more fun that way)*! It'll be FINE. You are so strong right now that you can walk on water! Consequences ~meh~consequences, shnosequences. Not only will you not feel bad after *insert bad behavoir*, but you will feel better than before! You will feel more energized, healthier, more appreciative of the good things in life, and possibly sexier! Go ahead (mental nudge), just do it!!!"

I can shut up the voice and control my actions about a 100 times better than when I was younger(not to say I never fail, maybe only 95 times better), mainly because I've been burnt by it so many times. Waking up after *insert bad behavoir*, feeling like absolute crap, feeling the guilt pains, having to tell on myself (because I also have little nuggets of self-tattling in there), feels so bad. Usually there is a headache involved. Definately a stomach ache from the stress.

So in conclusion, I am not perfect("really?!? ",you gasp). I can't even pretend to be.

Ode to the Happy Place

I read the blog below and started thinking...hmmm... this so called "happy place" may need to be explained. Especially after mentioning that my son asked if there was alcohol in my coffee cup (he really did too). I do not know WHY he asks me such things, except for that he gets to watch me snap to attention and get all serious and agitated (and anyone who knows kids knows how they love to get a reaction). Then he gets to hear another lecture about alcohol. I can't seem to control lectures about random dangers of life, which also include the obvious: alcohol, smoking, drugs, talking to strangers, crossing the street, wearing the seatbelt, sharp things, poisonous things, things that will electricute you, why you can only have one vitamin a day, staying away from large pools of water unless an adult is with you, what hypothermia is, what dehydration is, how to avoid split ends, and the importance of learning to stop, drop and roll. It goes along with chronic worrying as a mommy.

Last week he asked me on two different occasions if I would like a beer for lunch (and if you are the sort to have a beer for lunch, good for you, but the point is my son is not allowed to aspire to be a bartender as of yet), only to have to hear the lecture that would surely follow. I'm pretty sure my boy is figuring out all of my strings at the age of six. By the time he is sixteen he will know the exact combonation of questions to turn my brain into pure quivering putty. I am afraid.

Back to my happy place. My neice pointed out to me about a year ago that I sort of "check out" when things get too hectic. I started paying closer attention and realised it was true. In fact, it has always been true. The biggest beef most of my grade school teachers had with me was what they called "daydreaming". I think they might call it ADD these days...

I think that is why blogging holds an appeal to me. At least this is sort of a productive checking out, and I have real documentation about what I was thinking of during my happy place interlude. At least it's not me humming to myself in a corner, sitting cross-legged on the floor, predictably rocking back and forth. Not that I ever really did that. Really.

Sometimes my happy place is a source of real coping. For instance, this summer I found myself in the backseat of a truck barrelling down a dirt road way faster than I personally would have if given the choice. The back of the truck was full to the brim with innertubes that would soon carry us down the river, the front of the truck was enveloped by a billowing cloud of dust from the truck ahead of us. I remember consciously trying to relax my whole body to keep myself from leaping into the front seat with the driver, wrestling for control of the steering wheel and gas, and thereby preserving our souls alive. The next thing I remember, we are almost there and Shannon is saying,"I HATE YOU. You were in your happy place the whole time, weren't you." Because she realised she had been basically alone in her scary backseat experience. And I realised, why yes, I had been... away. I had been thinking about : *my kids*my home*different projects I'd like to get going on* what it would be like to own my own private island* what being the queen of that island would entail* why people who win the lottery don't choose to invest more(for instance, why not buy an island?) instead of buying a hundred sports cars*and finally about what a beautiful day it was. That death surely was around the next dusty bend had become insignificant.

Other times I go to my happy place include: Any mall excursion that involves crowds of people, any public appearance which includes children who are tired, hungry or otherwise cranky(although from the outside it looks like I am there dealing pretty well), any experience which includes dangling out of a helicoptor, attached to the hand of the man who is trying futily to save my life, only to find his glove is slowly slipping off...

So, based on this explanation, I hope you find that this happy place is not only a good place, but also a very necessary one. And if you don't have one, maybe you should invest in one yourself.