11.21.9

Today I got to thinking that I just may be a bit more stubborn than I previously thought. Only on principle though.

Thanksgiving's coming up. I can't look at a pre-cooked turkey with out getting really sad. Once it's golden brown and crispy with bacon on it's breast though, all bets are off.

Sometimes I imagine how much better the world would be if everyone walked around with a solid 3 beer buzz.

Basha's is going out of business because it sucks. The prices are too high, and the expiration dates are almost always tomorrow.

Working for half of my Saturday really makes me appreciate the rest of my weekend.

Finding new music is awesome.

Making new music is awesomer.

I'm finally getting over the fact that my kids will consider the Jim Carrey version of "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" the "real" one. I'm almost even ready to let them see it.

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Kindergarten

Today marks the end to the second week of Kindergarten for Keira. Here is a short examination of some of the differences between her kindergarten experience and my own.

On the eve of the first day my mom cried in disbelief at how big I'd gotten so quickly. I neither cried the same, nor any, tears for Keira.

Keira wore an adorable brightly colored sparkley shirt with jean shorts and sparkley shoes. I wore a grey dress that had a few pink flowers on it.

My first day of Kindergarten was the first day I set foot in a classroom. Keira had completed 2 years of education before her first day of Kindergarten.

On my first day I was ahead of the game because I knew my letters. Keira has been reading since she was 3 and a half.

My kindergarten teacher played the piano in the classroom. Keira's does not.

I peed my pants in kindergarten. Time will tell on this one for Keira.

In my kindergarten class everyone was a white kid. In her class, Keira is a minority.

We both smiled for our first day pictures. Keira's was one of confident accomplishment, mine was one of enthusiastic inexperience.

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So Much for Progress

The Harvard professor who got harassed by the cops when they responded to a 911 call about a possible break in shouldn't be pissed at the cops. He should be pissed at his neighbor who didn't recognize him and called the cops. The cops were just responding. Maybe they were jerky to him when they got there (which I do not condone), but they wouldn't be there if someone else didn't call in thinking he was up to no good. And it's not like the neighbor called the cops because he was sitting on his porch relaxing and reading a book. He was trying to wedge open a door. Which looks a hell of a lot like breaking in to a spying neighbor who lacks the balls to hollar across the street, "Hey Henry...is that you?"

I'm gonna go on a limb and say it doesn't really matter though because if the cops didn't respond to the call and someone did in fact break in to the professors home, he would probably say that cops are racist because they wouldn't respond to a call in a black neighborhood.

The further we come, the longer we have to go.

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Why I Love My Husband

A few months back my husband was able to figure out how to fix a $600 wall mountable TV for about 39 cents. He hung the TV proudly, and rightfully so, in the den/computer room. Ever since then he's been talking about adding a DVD player to the setup. I have, on multiple occasions reminded him that we don't need a DVD player in the den. As proof, I asked him to recall a time that he wanted to watch a DVD, and was not able to do so on the main living room TV. Of course he couldn't name a single time.

When he came home from work today, he began adding the DVD player to the den TV. He was walking in and out of the garage, drilling holes in the wall, and the whole 9 yards. As he crawled under the desk I was trying to work at for the third time, here's how our conversation went:

ME: (Seeing the DVD player and knowing full well what he was doing) What the hell are you doing under there anyway?

HIM: (Pointing to the wires hanging from the TV to the DVD player that sits below) That is ugly, I'm running the wires through the wall from here to there so you can't seem them. Whaddaya think of that?

ME: I think it's riddiculous and uneccesary.

HIM: (In an honest and playful tone) Yes. But it's not ugly.

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The Eyes of A Cynic

For the past several years, every time I've left the Sam's Club I've wondered if the little lady checking the receipts as you leave has ever actually busted anyone for stealing something. A few bulk shopping trips ago, thinking I'd get a good story, I asked in a playful tone, "So, have you ever really busted anyone for trying to steal something?" She looked at me seriously with a stern face and said, "No, just once in a while we'll find something that a checker forgot to ring up." As I headed to my car I tried to remember the point in my life at which an honest mistake became an impossibility.

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Damn you msn.com!

Here I am having, a decent time on a Friday night. Listening to music, making a birthday cake. I jump on line, check my email, log out and then....

The story in the middle of the page reads: "A Final Look Up for a Little Girl: Pixar fulfills dying wish for 10 year old."

Decent time over.

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Pictures

I've recently started taking pictures again. I'm not sure why I ever stopped. It's not as though one day I said, "Screw you pictures I quit you." I think it's quite simply, taking pictures requires a certain level of commitment that often eludes me. All of the "Low Battery" and "Memory Card Full" jibber jabber is super demotivating. Consider:

MOCK SCENARIO 1: What? Something cute is happening? Oh hold on, let me get my camera. Ah shit where did I put it? "Bren, where's the camera? On fridge...okay got it." Hold on kids! Keep doing that cute thing you're doing! I'm almost there! Oh man hold on, the batteries are dead. Let me change them quick. Keep holding that pose. Triple A, Triple A, 9 Volt, C...."Damnit! Bren do we have any more double A batteries?"

MOCK SCENARIO 2: What? Something cute is happening? Oh hold on, let me get my camera. Ah shit where did I put it? "Bren, where's the camera? On fridge...okay got it." Hold on kids! Keep doing that cute thing you're doing! I'm almost there! Sweet! Full battery! "Okay, say cheese" "Sonofabitch! What do you mean Memory Card Full?!" Ahh, let me see (reviews pics in play mode). Should I delete the one of the girls holding hands on the swing, or the blue sky with a cumulonimbus formation?

Despite the inevitability of the above scenarios, I've pushed forth in the face of adversity and I have to tell you, I'm happier. Over the past 3 weeks I've taken more pictures than I have in the past 2 years and it's fantastic. Our 10 day, 2 state family vacation was better than I had imagined and I've got over 150 pretty damn decent pics to look back on. Yippee, hooray, good for you one might say, but what is the point? Precisely this: Life is better when you take pictures of it. People can experience wonderful things, almost anything they want to, backpacking through Europe, watching the sun set from a mountain top, witnessing the birth of a child, whatever. But I ask you, what good is an experience without an embrace? Actively taking pictures requires an engagement that validates the moment. It's the affectionate acceptance of a memory.

And so, I encourage you to hug your memories - take more pictures!

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Sing It

I think a woman who complains that her husband never listens to her and/or forgets important things that she tells him would benefit greatly from adjusting her presentation style to one based on song. Success would be most probable if the information were sung to the infectious melody of an already existing song, however, I'm sure more talented women could pull it off with their own original melodies as well. Imagine it....

To the tune of "I Would Walk 500 Miles" by The Proclaimers: We must go to dinner at your moms house a week from Sat-ur-day.

To the tune of "Rehab" by Amy Winehouse: Dentist appoint-ment on Tuesday, you must GO GO GO!

To the tune of "I'm Too Sexy" by Right Said Fred: Our kid. Just bit someone at school. Her teeth did not break through. Teach was dis-plee-eased.

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Virtue

If a person, who eats and enjoys chicken, one day decides that eating chicken is wrong unless the chicken is an organic chicken raised on a Utopian chicken farm, what does she hope to gain? If ever such a chicken could exist, would it's death be any less tragic simply because it was raised under optimal conditions?

Is the acceptance of immoral actions solely under idealistic pretenses not the grossest form of arrogance?

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Notes from my pocket

From time to time I tend to write down my thoughts in little pieces of paper and then jam them into my pocket. Sometimes I pull them out and think about the ideas again, sometimes I forget about them all together. Here are a few recent ones that managed to elude a tragic fate that constantly lurks in the washing machine:

I've decided I'm going to try to tell people to enjoy things instead of have nice ones. I've based this on the fact that just because you have something good doesn't mean you enjoy it. If I tell you to, "Have a nice day." You may have a perfectly wonderful one, but unless you enjoy it, what's the point?

If Texas left the Union, how much would it be missed?

To the people who don't think global warming is real - what's the harm in pretending it is? At least this way we'd have ourselves covered just in case it was. Imagine your child is locked in a room that may or may not be slowly filling with smoke and fire. Wouldn't you do anything and everything in your power to bust that door down or at least contain the flames? Our kid's kid's kid's kid's kid's may essentially suffocate one day. But then again, maybe this is all part of a greater evolutionary plan and the human race will one day have super human lungs or something.

Do I love the people whom I love dutifully or freely?

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Sacrifice

I want to write a blog right now, but the kids are being a giant pain in the ass, and so I must tend to them instead.

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I hope this analogy proves false...

Border Czar is to the border problem as Drug Czar is to the "War on Drugs".

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"I Hate These Guys"

I heard about that Nazi suspect guy who is 89, in poor health, and being shipped off to Germany to stand trial for being an accessory to something like 29,000 killings. The dude's family was all upset that it's harsh for a man of his age in his condition to be yanked from his house (wheelchair and all) and sent overseas. I think they actually called in torture. Audacious, eh? I wonder what they would call getting burned in an oven then? I don't feel sorry for this man, even though he may be innocent, but it does make me wonder, how long we should be held accountable for our actions? This old man surely isn't a threat anymore, but that doesn't undo the evil acts he (allegedly) committed before father time and circumstance stripped him of his power and strength. Everyone without the opportunity and resources to prove otherwise is honest and good.

Also, is there such thing as the innocence of youth? Obviously, Nazi tactics could never be considered innocence of anything, but is it just a question of severity (i.e. stealing a car and joy riding = ok, gassing someone in the "shower" = not so much)? I suppose that there is a difference between criminal actions and immoral actions. But at what point do "immoral" acts become criminal? Must I remind you that our country is filled with all kinds of bizarre state by state sex laws ranging from anti-vibrator legislation to the classification of unmarried (yet consenting) adults lasciviously associating as a class 2 misdemeanor.

A teeny tiny personal, not sexual (sorry to disappoint) application of criminal vs. moral concept...when I was in middle school, I used to stay after last period and help the teacher by cleaning the erasers and chalk board. As soon as she left the room, I would regularly steal the 'classroom reward' candy from her bottom right desk drawer. Criminal? Technically stealing, but probably less than the amount necessary to define the act as criminal. Immoral? Certainly. When I think about it now, me stealing candy from my teacher almost seems as bad as a junkie stealing a stereo from a stranger. I took advantage of her trust for my own personal (yet small) satisfaction.

From there I am forced to entertain the concept of honest immorality. If society as a whole deems a certain behavior as immoral, but a person who emulates the behavior in a victimless arena is honest with herself, where is the harm?

I'm about to get sucked into some serious circular thinking here, so alas, I must end.

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Thoughts

Many things have crossed my mind lately. Some only for a moment, others for longer than that, but seldom long enough to be figured out they way they should. Here are a few:

Wants and needs are different for everyone and I enjoy talking to people about their lives and figuring out how they balance their own wants and needs. Also, not feeling wanted or needed by someone you care about a lot is a pretty sad feeling. Perception messes with this a little though, because a person may want and/or need you, but if you don't perceive it to be true, then for you, it isn't.

When I sit at my regular seat at the dinner table and look out the sliding glass door, a large tree is framed in a nearly symmetrical way, with the trunk running right down the center where the doors meet. I'm thankful to have recently noticed this.

Fuck North Korea.

I've been enjoying my time at work a bit more in recent weeks, because I've been doing some different tasks that make me feel like my presence makes a difference. What tasks you ask? Everything from developing a kick ass spreadsheet to assembling bar stools. I rule.

If dealing with nasty bratty kids is this hard when you really wanted kids, I don't know how all mothers who have unplanned pregnancies (and give birth and keep the baby) don't end up killing the kid over the course of a lifetime.

Fuck Somali pirates.

I'm glad the Obamas finally got a dog, so we can all move past the cutesy wootsy small talk banter about it any time he does an interview. Also, I'm glad it's a black dog, because if they got a white dog, some asshole somewhere would probably have to say something retarded about black dog not being good enough for the first black family to be in the White House.

I can't wait until all of the Easter candy is gone.

People can travel to Cuba now. I'll have to set up a meeting with my travel agent ASAP, just as soon as I get back from Angola.

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Rick, Rick, Rick!

Today I met a four year old who kinda reminded me of one of my favorite SNL characters, except she was much more annoying and much less funny. Okay, so maybe the similarities were weak, but at least I got to remember something I enjoyed.

http://www.imdb.com/video/hulu/vi2044264473/

Sorry that link is not live, but I suck at this.

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The Pity Party and Perspective

Generally speaking, I do not enjoy shopping for clothes. Sometimes I forget this and go shopping, but then usually after I try one thing on my memory is instantly jogged and I remember how much fun I don't have.

PITY PARTY: As I stand there in front of the dressing room mirror, I am forced to acknowledge things I would prefer to ignore, or at the very least, conveniently forget about. My feet are too big. My boobs are too small. My waist is fairly thin, but my hips are disproportionately large in comparison. My leg to torso ratio is unbalanced and silly looking, and my skin should be clearer than this at age 29.

PERSPECTIVE: Today is just an off day. I don't always feel like this. I have at least once had a good time shopping. I am fairly fit and relatively healthy, and very thankful for both of those things. I've had two kids, and it cuts me more slack then I need. I have big feet and long legs because I kick so much ass, and what I lack in boobs I make up for in all around likability.

Suck it Trebek!

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And So it Goes...

....the honeymoon is over. It's fine. I'm a grown up. I can take it. Just when I thought we had an understanding, I discover that I may have been wrong about you. You said things that inspired me. You made me feel like a better person. I wanted to help you. You moved me. I believed the things that you said, only now for me to realize the ugly probabilty that you just said them because you knew what I would do if I heard them. You counted on the vulnerability of human nature and you won. I did what you wanted me to, but I thought it was different. I've tried to be diplomatic as you figure out the way things really are in the world. I can't imagine how hard it is to be you, and I certainly don't expect you to take everything in perfect stride. I've cut you some slack as you figure out what you think it best. I'm not saying that I want this to be over forever. I just need a little space right now. Some time to reflect. I'm sure I'll get over it. Afterall, my feelings are only based on the way I've hypothetically played the scenario out in my head a million times. I'm sure I'll be back. I'm not giving up on you completely. Who knows...you may even prove me wrong. In the meantime, while I sort things out, please ask your people to remove me from your e-mailing list. I gave you 25 bucks over a year ago. Get over it.

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Peeps

What can I say about peeps? I love them. Not in the sense that if I could only pick one candy for the rest of my life I would pick them, but in the sense that they make me feel warm with nostalgia. I used to look forward to Easter season because Peeps would magically appear on the grocery store shelves. Back in the day the only kinds of Peeps you could buy were yellow or pink, bunnies and chicks. Nowadays you can get Peeps in purple or green or blue. I still only pick pink or yellow. Also nowadays, you can get Peeps almost all year round - snowman and trees at Christmas, hearts for Valentine's day, and ghosts for Halloween. To me, these are not real Peeps and I do not buy them.

The confectionary evolution of Peeps, has provided me with two important life lessons:

1. Having too many choices is a bad thing.
2. Certain pleasures are more thoroughly enjoyed in moderation.

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Strong Beer Festival

This weekend I partook in my first beer festival. I will say that prior to going, it was very difficult for me not to build it up too much in my head. I've heard such wonderful things about beer festivals from many of my friends. Some of them even travel regularly to different states to experience specific festivals. Nevertheless, I was able, with significant effort, to negate my frame of mind to the point of neutrality. I know someone who would say that I suck for having done this and that the extremes of life are the best part, but to that I would say great expectations lead to greater disappointment, and we'll take it up in another blog.

So back to the beer festival. I feel like it was a little risky for a domestic light beer connoisseur like myself to chose the "Strong Beer Festival for my first experience. It's kinda like losing your virginity to a porn star. I digress. It would be easy for me to slip into the mode of giving the step by step account of my time at the festival, but if I did, I think it would become tedious for me half way through and then I'd end up deleting the whole effing blog. Instead, I'll share some random thoughts about the festival and the night that followed...

1. Strong beers often taste like feet.

2. Hefeweizen is not strong enough to exhibit at the Strong Beer Festival.

3. The day after a beer festival, it will be impossible for you to recall the names of the beers you enjoyed at the festival, even if you sampled them multiple times.

4. I have an embarrassing inability to remember people whom I have met before.

5. Spaghetti, well, any food I suppose, is WAY better when you're intoxicated.

6. Women spend too much time looking in the mirror.

7. Pretzel necklaces rule.

8. Spontaneous star gazing with a loved one is grand.

9. Alcohol is a magical menace that brings secrets to the surface.

10. My self control is painfully remarkable at times.

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Timing

Today I've been thinking a bit about timing. Everyone knows the old cliche, "Timing in life is everything," but it really is very true. Sometimes timing is great and things work out like magic. Other times timing is poor and things can be quite tragic. I did not intend for those last two sentences to rhyme, but the fact that they do makes me want to use them as a launching point for a poem. But I won't. Anyway, as I think about timing I also think about intensity. From intensity my mind jumps toward intentions, and from there I begin to develop a theory that the times we have in life, good, bad and in between, are determined by these three criterion. Intensity and intentions are the concrete elements in the equation, as they are things that can be defined. You are either intensely passionate about something, or you are not, or you are indifferent about it. Similarly, you can have good intentions, bad intentions, or no intentions. One thing to consider, however, is just because intensity and intentions can be defined doesn't mean that they can always be chosen. Enter feelings. The sad thing about intensity and intentions, though, is that even though they make one sick ass tag team, they often fall victim to timing. Timing is a nasty bitch. Timing doesn't give a shit about your intensity or intentions. Timing is the wild card that makes life what it is. A chance.

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2.7.9

Keira is sick and that is unfortunate. The fortunate thing is that she doesn't feel so terribly awful that she just lays around all day cranking and moaning. She's got a fever, nasty cough and weird poo. Hopefully she gets better quickly.

I went to work today for a few hours (to make up for my absence yesterday) and I was able to accomplish enough to ensure my peace of mind for the coming week.

Before work I went to Walmart. I don't enjoy Walmart, except for their low prices. After typing that I realize that it makes absolutely no sense. It's like saying, "You know, I'd really like the rainbow if it weren't for all that color."

For the past week or so I've felt pretty sane and I have really enjoyed it.

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Candy

When I was a kid, I swore to God and myself and everything in between, that I would always LOVE candy. I remember being so puzzled by adults who'd say that Nerds were too sweet. I used to pour them into a cup and then 'drink' mouthfuls of them at a time. This past Halloween I had some Nerds for the first time in many years and I could barely finish one mini-box.

I have fond childhood memories of sharing M & M's with my mom. We used to dump a bunch out on the bed while watching TV together and then sort them into groups by color. I miss the light brown ones. Nowadays you can get M & M's in a million different colors and I'm not sure how I feel about this. At first I think it is a neato idea, but after I get past the initial appeal, it becomes for me, a metaphor for societal self-absorption.

I have always disliked Smarties.

My favorite discontinued candy of all time is Bonkers. They had the best commercials too. It would be a bunch of people sitting around somewhere and someone would eat a Bonker and then jumbo fruit would fall from the sky. Sometimes I wonder - did the candy make the commercials or did the commercials make the candy?

I remember when the mall I used to go to as a kid opened up it's first candy store. It was like heaven. You could just grab a clear celophane bag and fill it up with whatever hodge podge of candy you could dream up. Around that time I had also just discoverd sour watermelon wedges. A 12 year old in the 80s, I filled up a bag with a ton of them and took it up to the register. I about fainted when the clerk told me it was over $15. It was my first lesson on 'price per pound' purchasing. When I got that bag home I guarded it with my life.

I find the fact that many older people like black licorice endearing.

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Filler Blog

The purpose of this entry is to fill in the space between my last one and my next one. Presently, I do not feel compelled to write.

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Couch Potato

This past week NPR had a story about ESPNzone's multi city search for the Ultimate Couch Potato. Basically a bunch of people had to sit around in recliners and watch TV (espn of course) for as long as possible. They were not allowed to sleep, but they were allowed to have food brought to them and they could get up to use the bathroom once every 8 hours. A girl from Baltimore won after spending 70 hrs on her ass in a chair. I looked the contest up online when I got home and I only have one question: When I looked at her photo, why was I surprised that she is overweight?

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Entertainment Armageddon

I also heard this week that Obama's transition team and The Consumers Union (whatever that is) both called for an extension of the analog to digital TV conversion deadline. Apparently 19 million Americans live in households that are not prepared for the conversion, and the coupon program that allows households up to TWO $40 coupons towards the purchase of converter boxes has reached its max budget. I realize I'm just a average person with an average mind, however, I find it foolish to allow one house more than one coupon. Twice as many people could avoid this terrible entertainment armageddon if each house was given only ONE coupon.

In the interest of full disclosure, we do have 3 TVs in our home, however, I think we would probably manage to survive if we only had one. In fact, the 2nd and 3rd TVs barely get used as it is. Don't get me wrong here - I'm not saying that TV is evil - in fact it's a helpful babysitting, distracting, and learning tool sometimes. I do think, however, in general (though I'm not in love with generalizations) people watch too much TV. I take pride in knowing that our family has, on more than one occasion, all been home, with the TV off for several hours at a time.

Would it be so bad if people didn't have TV for a little while?

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Patrick Swayze: Ultimate Rebel or Ultimate Asshole?

You decide...

Last week I Tivo'd The Barbara Walters Special with Patrick Swayze. I usually do not like Barbara Walters, no matter how accomplished she is. I wanted to watch this interview though, because it seemed like such a tragedy that poor Patrick Swayze suddenly got pancreatic cancer. The interview was pretty typical. The summary: Swayze is a "tell it like it is" tough guy, who is angry about his cancer, but strong enough to keep fighting through it with the love and support of his soul mate. The most interesting part of the interview for me was when B-Dub questioned Swayze on the link between smoking and pancreatic cancer. Here's how it went:

BW: Patrick are you smoking?

(he looks down)
PS: Well, I will tell you that I'm not a non-smoker I've seriously cut down. You know I was one of those dumb ones that started back in the Marboro man days. You know, it was cool. I'm a cowboy. But I'll tell you one thing I' will talk so hardcore agains smoking for kids. That's one reason I've never smoked in front of children.

BW: Smoking can lead to pancreatic cancer.

(he nods)
PS: Absolutely.

BW: You know that.

(continues nodding)
PS: Absolutely.

BW: Patrick, do you think that your smoking caused the cancer?

PS: Ooo. I don't know, so I will go so far as to say probably smoking had something to do with my pancreatic cancer.

BW: But you still smoke.

PS: Absolutely.

BW: Why?

PS: Uhh. I've got...(stutters a second)...priorites. It's just I been dealing with one thing as it comes at a time (stutters again) in the order that it's trying to kill me. Will stopping smoking now stop anything? Change anything? No. But uh when it looks like I may live any longer than 5 minutes I'll drop cigarettes like a hot potato.


p.s. here is a you tube link JIC I poorly transcribed it.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PVmn-c4nK_0

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1.5.9

It seems these days that I know exactly what kind of day I'm going to have from the moment me and the girls wake up. The mornings with an air of "outlook not so good" are challenging to get through, but it makes the days that start off with "woohoo!" even better. I'm thankful that all of my days don't begin with "outlook not so good."

Keira's first day back to school today was good. She likes school and I like that. Mondays are yoganastics (yoga + gymnastics = yoganastics) days, and she seems to have a good time with it. The yoga teacher lady has a killer body, and perfect posture and balance. I wonder how long you have to do yoga to get that way. I might have to start soon.

Kickball starts in 2 weeks. I'm looking foward to having Thursdays to look foward to.

Texas vs Ohio State game on in the background - go Texas...I guess. Really though I don't give a shit.

I worked out tonight and it felt awesome, hopefully I will make time for it 2 more nights this week. 3 times a week is the ultimate goal. Got me some new shoes I'm only going to use for running. I never understood why people have separte shoes for running, but now I do - they wear out too fast if they are your everday shoes and your excercise shoes.

I need to wash our stinky kids.

Trader Joe's Chocolate Covered Raisins are delightful.

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Obligatory New Year's Day Post

I'm going to eat better, excercise more, swear less, think positive, and appreciate every precious moment of life...until I get too busy, cranky, lazy, tired, or just plain generally apathetic.

Bring on 2009! - "The Year of Lower Expectaions"

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