Thank you for all your kind words concerning my husband's grandmother. She passed away sometime late Wednesday night into Thursday morning. She was 'ready' as she had told several family members, but it's still a bit of a shock. But I thank you......
I cancelled my fun-filled weekend to Austin with Kristie, where I was finally going to meet several lovely bloggy women. I am heartbroken about that, but I will hopefully be able to reschedule soon.
In other news, here's a few pictures that made me smile:
(This is my sister & my girl together. So cute and GROWN UP)
(Daisy is thrilled)
(Her daddy used to do this to make me laugh, and now she does it)
Sittin' in the dark, crumbled on the floor,
Staring at nothing till it leaps out at me,
Waitin' on the sun; it's only 4 a.m.
Daylight will break out the strain in me.
7 shades of wrong,
7 shades of wrong,
You just don't see.
Time sneaks by me, without a sound,
Shadows strike out , lost;
Waiting on a change, aching to be re-found.
There was a time,
When I was that star in your sky,
That led you to the horizon,
True and high.
Shot down, left to fall...
Left to realize,
7 shades of wrong,
7 shades of wrong,
Now just me.
Can't fit in a mold, that wasn't made for me,
Can't make you see what you are too hardheaded to believe-
But I will-
7 shades of wrong,
You and me.
7 shades of wrong,
Just you and me.
I've been listening to satellite radio on and off for several months now. Some shit is weird, awful, pitiful...but some of it is gloriously perfect.
Here are a few songs I plan to download onto my brand new, shiny blue ipod this week:
(Instead by Madeleine Peyroux)
(Give it to me Right by Melanie Fiona)
(Catch your Fall by Gavin Mikhail)
Also, there's a new demo song of his on his myspace page, called 'Bring on the rain'. The lyrics are simple, yet strangely moving.
I have hope,
When I hear songs streaming out the radio,
In perfect order.
Until my hand, heavy with words,
Lifts to this pad...
I will scratch these lines
Out on paper
So they stop screaming in my head.
I'll make a movie of my soul,
It'll play on all the screens,
I'll write a song from the soul,
And you'll know just what it means.
You'll make of it,
What you will,
You'll find meaning where there's none.
I'll let it replay in your head,
And watch pain come undone.
I think I do a decent job of being environmental conscious, although I know that I could be doing more. While I don't drive a hybrid, I do recycle non-stop at work and home. I don't use rain water runoff like I would love to, but I make sure I water outdoors in the very early mornings. I don't have solar panels, but I turn lights off when I leave rooms & I use natural light as much as possible. I'm sure for all the good I do, my shabby stuff makes it all counter-productive though.
My next home, I will have a large vegetable garden. I will be getting rain barrels to water my garden and flowers. I will continue to recycle & will start composting as well.
But for now, I need a couple of things answered:
1. Paper plates or re-using dishes? What is better? I mean, I realize using paper plates every meal is awful, but seriously, how green am I if I am washing dishes & running the dishwasher a few times a week?
2. Paper towels or re-using rags? What is better? Less disgusting? I really hate the thought of using rags to spread the germs & grubby shit all over my counters. Ick. Plus, I am then adding another load of laundry to my to-do list, since I WILL NOT wash those damn rags with my clothes (done it before, by mistake, and it was a laundry FAIL-everything was dull & gross). So how green is it to do another load of laundry every week?
3. I turn the thermostat up to 75 when we aren't home. I keep the fans on, to keep it tolerable, and also, so the AC unit doesn't have to work as hard to cool the house down in the evenings, when the sun is blazing from the west. But is the electricity I am using to run the fans more than the electricity used to cool the house at the same damn temperature all day?
Am I complicating things for no reason? Please, ease my mind: Give me some honest, helpful answers about this stuff. Even better!: Tell me you think about this shit, too!
In 5th grade, I had a crush on a tall, shy boy in one of my classes. I didn't really know what it meant to be boyfriend and girlfriend, but when he asked me to go with him, I said yes.
He invited me to his birthday party at his home, and my mom was happy to take me. Besides cake and ice cream, there was lots of running after cattle & running away from the bull his parents had. (No, I didn't grow up in the country. His house was not really par for the course, and doesn't even exist anymore.) Sitting in the barn with him after most of the guests had left, I was nervous, embarrassed, and so awkward. He grabbed my hand, leaned in, and turned bright red.
We never kissed.
I became a band geek in 6th grade. I played the clarinet, although I always had my heart set on being in the percussion section. My dear friend Zelvis played the saxophone, so I was always looking in the direction of the sax section during the class. I formed a brief crush on an outgoing, silly, loud, obnoxious yet sweet, short, skinny guy. He cracked me up with his facial expressions, and I got in trouble more times from the band director than I even want to admit. He was in 8th grade.
We had mutual friends, all in band. We hung out together on weekends, and I often walked over to his house, only a few blocks away. His home was broken. His father was gone, his mother was a bit absent, and his younger brother clung to him. He taught me how to beat Mario Brothers 1 on my Nintendo. He let me borrow his Mario Brothers 2 game.
I worked concessions at his 8th grade dance. He asked me to dance.
We never kissed.
In 7th grade, I had several crushes, but only 1 boyfriend. He was quiet, shy, soft-spoken, baby-faced, and so sweet. He played the trombone. We wrote notes back and forth, he walked me to class, we sat at lunch together, he held my hand.
He is the first person I went on 'a date' with. My mother took us to the movies, and dropped us off. I have no idea what movie we saw. I only know that I spent the entire movie inching my hand closer to his, until our pinkies touched about 20 minutes before the movie ended.
I ached to be near him. I met him at the park on weekends and we talked as he played basketball. But we didn't talk a lot. He was so painfully shy; he blushed if I looked at him for more than a few seconds at a time.
It didn't last.
I was a size C by 8th grade. Boys had officially 'discovered' me. I still had many girl friends, but now I had a ton of guy friends. They came to my house every day. They walked me home. We all called one another. We were all a group. We hung out non-stop.
I was overwhelmed by their attention. I also loved it. I loved that they listened to me, asked my advice, sought me out in the halls, made sure I was okay, called me when I was sick, gave me birthday cards, shared new music with me, threw shit in my hair at lunch........
What I didn't like was deciphering intentions (mine and theirs). I couldn't tell who really liked me for me, and who was just waiting for an opportunity to feel me up. I couldn't tell who I really, truly liked, and who I just wanted to be friends with. It was all very confusing. And frustrating.
He was friends with guys in this group of friends I had. He made me laugh until I cried. He wrote me perverted, sexually charged notes, but they always cracked me up; never made me uncomfortable.
He had the softest, gentlest hands. I can honestly say that he was my first kiss. Sure, others had kissed me on the cheek, tried to kiss me but chickened out, and there was even one or two that forced themselves on me and DID kiss me, but in my mind, they didn't count. HE was my first kiss.
He moved away right after 8th grade, right at the beginning of the summer. He swore he would write. He swore he would call. He did neither.
I cried for weeks. I ached for him, in so many ways. I worried about him.
When he showed back up our freshman year, I ran into him in the hallway of our high school. He was tan, handsome, and just as goofy as ever. I was angry. He had left, left me, like I was nothing, and here he was, after 5 months of silence, chit-chatting like NOTHING HAPPENED? I never talked to him again. I have no doubt that he would have been my first serious love if he hadn't moved away for the summer. I would have made sure of it.
I have no idea where he is now.
I met him when I was in 7th grade, but we didn't see each other too much at first. He was a year older. By the time my heart had been broken by the ass that moved away after 8th grade, we were seeing each other daily. He came over with the others. We all swam in my pool. He wasn't as loud as the others. He wasn't obnoxious. He cracked me up, even when he wasn't really trying to. He invited me over to his house to hang out with everyone else, in spite of the fact that I was younger than him, or that I had a boyfriend. He was thick, dark-haired and dark-eyed, quiet but not shy. It took all summer, but by the time I was a freshman, I realized I had fallen for him, hard.
My freshman & sophomore years are filled with memories of him and I, some painfully heart-wrenching, others so gloriously happy & silly that I will still smile about them when I am old & feeble:
Playing Sonic the Hedgehog in his room, for hours; Pearl Jam songs; swimming in his pool, throwing shit at him; stealing his Alice in Chains tape for months at a time; talking on the phone until we both fell asleep; watching scary movies, sitting on his bed; Cindy Crawford posters on his walls; writing poetry, sitting on the floor of his bedroom closet; wearing his hats & shirts, smelling his cologne in them; being one of the first people he visited when he got his first vehicle; waiting for his calls; hating his silence; crying when he said he didn't want to be with me; shame when walking by him & his friends in the halls of school; his father's laugh; his mother's cold silence; falling asleep on his bed, watching stupid movies; waiting for him to ask me out.
All these things happened, but never at the same time. Never the way I wanted. We were both on different paths, but our paths converged so many times. We were young, confused, and I guess we never could figure it all out.
I met him through the one mentioned above; they were best friends. I got his number from someone else, and called him crying, wanting to know why his best friend didn't like me, didn't want me, was ignoring me.
We hit it off.
It was never intentional. I didn't mean for him to fall in love with me.
I didn't mean to love him. Although it was definitely wonderful to love him.
We were on and off, only because of my indecision and my love for the one mentioned above.
I don't know how all 3 of us survived that time of our lives. I loved them both, in real ways, for different reasons. By my junior year, I was done with all of it. I was sick of hurting both of them. I was sick of being hurt by both of them. It was such a mangled mess that I broke it off with him, and never looked back....for several years. I DID love him, and our paths DID cross a few more times before we both lost touch, but it couldn't last......we had ruined it for all of 3 of us, the instant I had called him.
I met him when I was almost 17. It was a hard, dark, lonely time in my stupid teenaged life. He was younger than me, by 2 years. I remember standing at my locker, and feeling someone's eyes on me. When I turned around, he was across the hall, staring. When I caught him staring, he blushed, but did not turn away. He maintained eye contact, and amazingly, smiled. There was weeks of this before I finally broke a mutual friend, begging for him to introduce us. I shouldn't have been nervous or worried.
We met in the hall. We were both late to class; the bell had already rang. I was so down that day; I was staring into my locker, when he said my name. I turned around and there he was, same smile, same shine in the eyes.
I fell hard for him. My friends made fun of me, since he was 2 years younger than me. It was I who picked him up when we would get together; he didn't have his license. He was quiet but not with me. He was silly, goofy, kooky with me. He was so brilliantly talented with music. He was one of the first in well over a year that I allowed to read my poetry. I opened my journals and my heart to him. He wasn't like any of the others. He didn't dress like them, he didn't act like them (other than the quiet part). He acted as though I was fragile when we were together, but helped me break myself when I needed it. He taught me to skateboard (I sucked). We talked on the phone for hours. We laid on my driveway & stared at stars while telling one another our deepest thoughts, our strongest fears.
I took his virginity. He broke my heart. Twice. He deserted me when I needed him so badly, the first time. The second time he deserted me, he fell deep into drugs. I couldn't forgive him, for years. I spent YEARS hurting because of him, because of us. I still get angry & disgusted when I think about how we ended. I still ache when I think of his eyes, his voice, his devotion, his dreams.
My senior year, I was so ready to be done with high school and all of the bullshit. There were boys I had serious crushes on, but nothing ever happened. I didn't know how to assert myself, how to let them know I really did like them. By this time, my reputation was a disgusting, mangled mess of lies, and I just didn't care anymore.
I had a dear friend who always attempted to make me feel better. She had been friends with me since most of these high school dramas described above. She knew how I hurt. She wanted to see me happy.
She started trying to get me to assert myself. And honestly, I don't remember what she said, did, or suggested, but slowly, I started to feel assertive.
My first attempt at being STRONG and ASSERTIVE and FORWARD with a guy was horribly successful. I actually grabbed a guy's ass (in his tight Wranglers) and told him I liked it. Within a few weeks, we were together non-stop. Within a month, we were a couple.
I asserted myself with the wrong person. I asserted myself with a dangerous, careless asshole, who had no idea about the history I carried within myself. I asserted myself with a person who cheated on me, berated me, humiliated me, hurt me, hit me.
I made the wrong decision.
It didn't last.
Bullets, again, because I am tired, in la-la land, and WANT to be creative, but just can't find the energy:
- The Professor from Hell last night was...well, NICE. WTF? She's sorta grandmotherly, smart, experienced, and well, a bit crazy too. I did address the fact that I emailed her four damn times in a week's time about getting assignments & the syllabus, and her response was 'Oh, I hardly check my email. No worries!' Is she f-ing kidding me? I mean, I stressed about this crap, and she HARDLY CHECKS HER EMAIL?? Lovely. So not only did I stress about something all week for no damn reason, but apparently she didn't worry too much about what I missed, so why should I?? Anyway, I trust her as far as I can throw her, and as I said, she's a bit crazy: She kept talking about safety last night. Oh, we must be SAFE when working with all types of clients and 'How many feet away from your car are you before you automatically unlock your doors?' and don't give ANYONE your cell number and YOU MUST HAVE BOUNDARIES WITH YOUR CLIENTS and on and on AND ON. It was a beatdown, to say the least.
- There were some nasty storms here last night and today, and Professor from Hell (which I may have to rename Crazy Grandma Professor) wouldn't let us leave. I'm talking eerie green skies, menacing clouds, horizontal-falling rain, bad-ass lightning, thunder that shook our old-ass building, flickering lights, pea-sized hail......'Oh, well, we will be fine up here' ON THE THIRD FLOOR. Lucky for us, my house and family fared well while I was stuck in class, other than my mother's fence falling down and my hammock getting caught in a tree.
- My internship professor is driving me a bit nuts too. I really promise I am not a judgy type of person or someone who makes fun of EVERYTHING. I mean, I'll make fun, but I'm not particularly mean or malicious. I just have little patience for certain people this week, and I don't know why. So, anyway, my internship professor is ALWAYS RUSHING and ALWAYS BEHIND. For instance, today: We were to meet at 12:15 with my co-interns to have our weekly supervision meeting, go over what she wanted from us for the next week, ask questions, discuss clients, etc. It was supposed to be done at 1pm. I get there at 12:05 and she's missing in action. Fine, sure, I'll wait. 12:20-one of my co-interns & myself are sitting in an empty room waiting on her. 12:30-Prof shows up and asks where the other two interns are. No idea. She starts calling their cell phones. Finally, at like 12:38, she decides to go ahead and start with us. And........talks like two words per minute, I swear. I was soooo frustrated. Seriously? You start late as hell, talk slow, and it's over stuff we could have just CHATTED ABOUT ONLINE, ON THE PHONE, OR YESTERDAY after our hours were up for the day?? Gah. I wanted to rip my hair out. So, I got back to the office a full hour later than I had planned. So, I'm behind on work (fairly simple stuff, but STILL!), behind on blogging, behind on the stupid mother of all shitty things: Google Reader, and could I complain a little more?
- Sure, I can. My scalp is stilllllll itchy. I've tried the stuff Biddy suggested, I've been using Selsum Blue, and now I'm going to buy that T-gel stuff from Neutragena, but I may just ITCH MY DAMN HAIR OUT. My mom says she heard that an itchy scalp might be a symptom of diabetes, and I've been tested before because of other annoying symptoms (the worst dry mouth EVER, almost all the time), but also? If you saw my tweet, I have a hive or possible shingle on my ankle, under my tattoo. And for the past 2 summers, I've gotten a shitty case of the shingles that my primary doctor tries to say ISN'T THE SHINGLES until he finally gets so sick of hearing me say it that he does the damn blood test to see that OH, I DOOOOOOO HAVE THE SHINGLES, thanks. He claims that I am having an allergic reaction to SOMETHING but who the hell knows what? Anyway, the past 2 summers, it has started in the same two places: my ankles and my neck. Guess what else is itchy besides this hive/shingle/patch on my tattoo? Yep. My neck. Shit shit shit.
- So, I'm popping so much Lysine that I think I'm pooping it in pill form. I'm upping my other vitamin intakes as well, and eating blueberries by the pint daily. Please, please PLEASE don't come visit me this summer, Mr. Shitty Shingles.
- I have seriously got a dozen posts ready in my head and heart, but I just don't have the time! Frickety frick!! It took me a damn hour to type up this shitastic post at work between filing, phone calls, the cleaning lady asking me if I was pregnant (WHAT THE FUCK? PEOPLE? Seriously?? Will that question ever stop??? Oh, and she asked me that after she asked me why I had a cold in the summer? "Maybe you are pregnant?" NO, damn it shit. I wish I was, but NO, I'm not. Gah. Now I need alcohol and a few dozen cupcakes to feel better about that question.), & a phone call from my mother. And with no interruptions, I would be able to type this shitastic post in a good 5 minutes. Sigh.
- Well, just know that I've got FANTASTIC BLOG FODDER in my head. Isn't that good enough?
- In the meantime, may I shamelessly talk about my other blog, that may or may not make you blush, but just makes me giggle nine times out of ten? (That tenth time? I sigh, gasp, or go "ooooooooooo, NICE.") Go check it out, and seriously, do some anonymous boobie sending, will ya?
Wednesday night (2 weeks ago) we took my girl to her very first Rangers vs. Yankees game. She was so excited, and would periodically ask over the past several weeks: "When is the baseball game? Is it today?" The night before, she came into our bedroom in the middle of the night due to a thunderstorm, and talked for two hours straight, about baseball (among other random things like the dog, her sandbox, the mosquitoes, the thunder, her aunt, bugs with 'fuzzy wings', & so on). My husband was smart, since he snuck into the living room to lie on the couch and never came back. Also? She sang "Take me out to the ballgame" 4,982 times in those two hours.
Written by Danielle-lee at 10:00 AM
Written by Danielle-lee at 11:54 AM
Bullets. And maybe a few pictures.
- Hubby's grandma made it through Wednesday night. Heartrate still low, oxygen levels low, hospice is coming in. It's pretty emotionally draining to watch her loved ones say goodbye, only to find out she is still alive this morning, and they will have to do their goodbyes all over again. Sad.
- My BFF from Cali, the one that calls me Dan, is here until Sunday. Bad timing, with hubby's grandmother being so close to passing, but still, I am all SQUEEEEEEE! Today we went to lunch, caught up a bit, giggled as silly things, and drove by our old high school. Tomorrow: (grandma pending) We plan on crashing the Hilton's pool (and not the skinny bitch Hilton, but the hotel Hilton, just in case there was any confusion *snort*) Never mind that her father has a pool here, and his house is literally 2 minutes from my house. We want cocktails and other people.
- I officially started my internship this week, and omg, the professor is organized in a totally unorganized way. Sigh. I was assigned a few interesting cases. Gotta get past my anxiety of calling & meeting unknowns who intimidate me.
- I missed my seminar class last night to say goodbye to hubby's grandma. This woman, now forever called the Seminar Nazi, takes points off of your grade every time you miss, no matter what. Doesn't matter that someone is dying. Doesn't matter that someone already died. Doesn't matter that your ankle is broken and you can't drive because it's attached to the foot that pushs the gas and brake pedals. No eating in class. It's from 6pm-9:20pm every Wednesday. SERIOUSLY?? No food? Me?? I'll pass out. Omg, I am a snacker, is she kidding me?? I emailed her this morning, and never heard back from her. Screw her and her points off.
- Hubby's brothers visited grandma. It's a long story that isn't really mine to tell, and one I won't even PRETEND TO UNDERSTAND, but his two older brothers don't talk to their mother, or to my hubby. Needless to say, it was uncomfortable and nervewrecking. The younger of the 2 brothers had a nice talk with my hubby, and we might actually get my girl to meet her 12 year old cousin FOR THE FIRST TIME this weekend.
- My girl started her summer swimming lessons Tuesday. She begged and begged (& b.e.g.g.e.d.) for goggles, and I kept putting her off. Finally, she asked me if I thought her teacher would have any for her to borrow. I said I doubted it, but guess what? We get there and she hands the kiddos goggles. She turned towards me with those silly goggles on, with this "I told ya so" look on her face. I cracked up.
- The mosquito killer came and put all sorts of mosquito killer stuff down in the backyard. Here's hoping they go away for....evvvvvvvvv.er.
- This is exciting: Holly, Miss Grace, and I started a blog on a whim. See that button over there ---------> with the boobies? We are just plain silly, but really, it's just plain brilliant. Also? Feel free to send in your own freeeeeeeee boobies, & they can even been posted anonymously if you like. I'm sorta hoping we can add a few other features, I'm just not quite sure what they would be.....in the meantime, enjoy!
- My tomato plants are doing lovely:
- My girl had some strange allergic reaction on Sunday. Covered in hives. Took 2 days for them to go down. Now I get to work at the exciting task of reintroducing all of the new things, one at a time, that could have been the trigger. Weeeeee. Nothing I'd rather do with my spare time.
- Haven't worked out in 2 weeks. Lovely. I'm buying the new Jillian DVD this weekend, and starting fresh on Monday.
- My bananas are completely brown, my fridge is full of fresh veggies that I don't have the energy to cook, my DVR is sending me angry vibes, and my Google Reader is sending me hate mail.
- I have sooo many posts ready in my head, but am sooooooooo wiped out from this week.
- That is all.