Just in case you were wondering...

I am taking a break from blogging today. Well, and yesterday. And Monday, but it was a holiday, so there.
I just have a lot going on, and too little time, and too little decent sleep. I'll be back to post by Friday, I swear to ya.

In the meantime, help me out w/ a few things, will ya?:

1. I need some good workout music. I know I asked a few weeks ago on Twitter, & I got some good suggestions, but I want more! Please?

2. I lost my blog roll over there ------>, & tried to re-create it at 12:30 last night. Take a look, and tell me if I missed you (I'm pretty sure I missed some peeps, and please don't take it personal-I am sleep-deprived and was side-tracked by Top Chef).

That is all.

If ever I wanted to 'get away', now would be the time. I think.

So, if you saw my tweets yesterday, my hubby hurt his back Wednesday night. We spent the night discussing how we were getting him to the hospital (after we discussed ACTUALLY GETTING HIM TO GO to the hospital). Then we fell asleep. Then I woke up to him on the floor, because he tried to get up and realized he couldn't walk. Anyway, so we spent yesterday morning in the hospital and came home with some strong-ass drugs. Making a doctor appt. for next week, to give his back time to RELAX. A strained or torn muscle in his lower back, due to being superman and taking our brand-new elliptical machine out of the back of his lifted truck BY HIMSELF. *grits teeth*
He doesn't like being out of control, or needing to ask for help. But I have to say I am proud of him. For the most part, he was okay with my doing everything for him, he was sweet, and we got into a little groove yesterday, and I felt like I could do this if I had to, ya know? But then he started telling me he was going to drive his ass to work today and move the elliptical machine into the house and maybe a handjob would make him feel better?, and then I was just done with him.

Because of said hubby- injury, I didn't go to Shauna's book-signing last night, and it made me sad.


And then I discovered that a large portion of my paperwork from my internship was on the zip drive that no longer works, and I was supposed to email it to my prof by today, so now I'm having to re-do some of it, and that does not make me happy at all.


And then we realized our TV won't turn on. Actually, we realized this on Wednesday, but that's not the point. The point is that I was hoping it would just miraculously fix itself while we were at the hospital. But it didn't. It won't turn on. Yet the light is on, so I know it has power going to it. What the hell? So, unless we get someone out to look at it TODAY, we will all be sitting on my bed watching TV tonight and Sunday night. Lovely. I don't like sleeping on crumbs, because TV and food go hand-in-hand in my house.

And then my Daisy's eye infection didn't miraculously fix itself. So we are going to the vet today. Seriously, she is the most.expensive.dog.ever. And while I'm on the subject of canines, I found out last night that we should be getting a phone call SOON, for a home visit, which is the next step in this adopting-a-boxer process. As I folded laundry last night, it occurred to me, that by this time next month, I could have another dog in my house. And it sorta freaked me out a bit. Not that I don't want another dog (because I really, really do), but because....well, maybe it would really really make me realize that my Kooter dog won't ever be back. Sigh. After 7 months, I still feel awful when I think of him, so filled with guilt & loneliness.

And then I rented my textbooks for this semester, and the total was 450 bucks. Seriously? Jeez.

And then I got on the scale last night. Am I a glutton, or what? Apparently I am, according to the scale. I just stood there and said 'fuck' a few times. I'm seriously considering using my elliptical machine in it's current location (in the garage) in spite of our 100 degree days around here. More sweat=more calories burned, right? RIGHT?

And then I realized that my time off from school ends on the 24th. Seriously? This has been the shortest summer ever.

And then I looked at my not-updated resume and did a few searches for jobs, and I wanted to cry. Just thinking about how I'm going to work all of this out makes me get all panicky & frazzled. Lovely.

And I'm not even going to mention (more than I already did on Twitter) the incident involving a wet fart & my favorite undies.

And then I realized it's Friday and squeee! Not that I have a thing planned, other than caring for my hubby & going batshit crazy from my 4 year old's non-stop bossiness, but whew, the weekend just sounds lovely in theory, doesn't it?

So, tell me what you have going on, so I can SERIOUSLY stop thinking about my shit.

For the love of all that is just and holy, shut the holy hell up!

Two things are keeping me from a decent night's sleep:

[Please excuse the darkness, the fact that I can't figure out which light switch goes to the outdoor light (hi-i've lived here almost 2 years), & the shitty visuals. Sleep.deprived.]

Music Lover Monday on Tuesday, because I suck (but not enough, according to "someone who shall remain nameless")

First, thanks for the suggestions about fighting the mosquitoes. I appreciate my peeps!

Next, I've got writer's block. I've got a ton of stuff to write about, but it's just not coming out. It's all globbed up in my head, and don't tell me glob isn't a word, because I say it is. Also, I just realized I had a Music Lover Monday post all ready, but didn't post it. You want to know what it was? (Say yes, because even if you say no, I'm about to tell you anyway).

I'm not sure why I like these guys, but I do. Maybe it's the interesting lyrics thrown in the middle of these snappy beats? Hell, I don't know. For all I know, you guys have heard of these guys, and it's nothing new to you. But anyway, The Dodos:




Anyway, I'm just going to blame my writer's block on my f-ed up sleep schedule (why does the dog have to wake me up 4 damn times between 2 and 6am? Why can't I go to bed before midnight? Why can't I get up to work out at 6:30am? Whyyyyyy???) and the fact that I chose to do another liquid cleanse and ohhh.myyyy.gahhhhhhh. I am so hungry. And bloated.

So, yeah, aren't you glad you stopped by here today?

Words from the weary

Every year, around this time, I say "NEXT YEAR, I am doing my Christmas shopping early!! I will be done by December 15th, I swear!" And every year, around this time, I am up in the middle of the night, making up for lost time. Time that was sucked up by someone getting sick (Last year the flu struck me on December 22 in about 5 minutes. I crawled to the couch, and cried because I was so cold, but the blanket literally hurt my body. I also ended up watching Mary Poppins, which may have been the highlight of that fiasco)(This year, my girl projectile-vomited all over herself in the car while Christmas shopping. And then puked 4 more times at home, every time she ate something bland, drank some water, or even thought about doing either one.).

This year, besides the sickness, I have just been too damn busy with school, work, and just LIFE in general. (By the way, since I'm apparently doing lots of asides in this post: I got all A's this semester! I rock! Have I mentioned that before?? Hmmf. Well, deal with it!)

So, tonight I was at Toys'r'Us at 10pm, getting last minute gifts. Then I was at JCPenney, snorting like a piggie with my mom, because she was making me laugh so hard.

I don't have enough wrapping paper. I have not done my food shopping yet. I still have several things to get. And then my husband informs me that he 'may' have bought me a 'small' gift, even though he made the decision that we weren't giving each other gifts this year (the whole backyard/landscaping thing is our gift). So now I'm scrambling, trying to come up with an idea of what to get him. Sheesh.

I am exhausted already.

I swear to you, if I get a couple of free minutes that don't involve puke, baking, wrapping paper, tape, or stupid stockings that won't stay hung on the mantle, damn it, I will post something a bit more witty/funny/intelligent/worth-reading.

Until then, Fill-eeees Nav-eeeeed-donna (Feliz Navidad, spoken by the 3 year old in the house).

And then.....

(No 'And then'!!!!) (Anyone know what movie that line is from??) (You don't get a dang thing from me if you figure it out) (I'm pretty sure I'm one of the only females that loves this movie, so I'm thinking Alan will know what movie I'm talking about) (Or not).

And then I fell over from exhaustion. My paper is done. I turned it in without re-reading it. Who knows what my very sleepy, 3 am brain wrote?? No telling! It was interesting material, but after soaking myself in over 100 pages of research on self-cutting, I am thinking I want to curl up in a ball, cry, and then sleep.

Oh, and eat. Lots and lots of comfort food, please.

I promise I will have more to say after I get some rest!

Ache

My eyes are thrown open. With my heart beating erratically, I feel the sheet wrapped around my legs, and I notice my arm asleep under my head. I glance at the alarm clock on my nightstand-- 2:53 am. Biting the inside of my lip, I realize I've been holding my breath. I let it out slowly, quietly-I do not want to wake up my husband. Although, I realize rather quickly, that probably isn't something I need to be concerned about-he is snoring, so I know he is off in his own little world, far away from me and my dreams.
Remembering that he can sleep through anything, I sit up in bed, kick the sheet off, and basically hyperventilate. I push my hand on my chest; I am trying to hold my heart in my body. It is beating so wild, I am afraid that someday it will truly break out of my chest.

I have always had vivid dreams. I can honestly say that I can remember waking from a dream when I was 7. I still remember that dream. I still remember the feeling of my heart in my chest, and the weightlessness of the dream.

My dreams intrigue me. They are artistic, original, and I often wake up thinking, 'Where the hell did that come from?' I write some of them down, because I truly believe that the novel that I hope to publish is being composed while I sleep.

But my dreams also scare me. For years, I have dreamt of animals chasing me. Alligators, tigers, lions, snakes. These dreams always preceded an episode with my heart. I caught on soon enough, and when I woke from one of these nightmares, I would know to watch my activity for the next day or so, to watch my heartrate. I would spend hours out of the day focusing on the thump-thomp of my heart, counting each beat, praying that it wouldn't happen again. But it always did. So, those dreams were annoying in sleep, but painful in the awakening.

I have dreams of places I have never been in real life. Over and over. I visit several places in my dreams, year after year. I wonder if I will go to these places some day. Just last week, while driving between Granbury and Weatherford, on a road I have never been on, I passed 5 or 6 houses, and got the most awful feeling of deja vu. I had a dream almost a year ago-I was trying to hide from some very scary guys, and I was trying to get my girl up into the attic of this house. I remember the layout of the house, the yard, and the surrounding area. When I passed those houses, I knew these were the houses from my dream. It was so odd, so surreal.

I have recurring dreams about certain people. Year after year. It's a different variation of the same dream. When I wake up, I know I need to call or email the person, just to check on them. If I am not in touch with them anymore, I pray for them. A wise friend of mine told me that oftentimes, He puts dreams in our heads of a person who is going through something, and needs our thoughts and prayers. So I pray.

However, I would have to say the worst dreams I have are those about people that are no longer in my life. Lost loves. People that I let slip away. Or people I slipped away from on my own. These are the most heartbreaking for me. These are the dreams I wake from with the sheet wrapped around my legs, and I find that I cannot breathe.

Once I catch my breath, my mind races. Why am I dreaming about him? What the hell does that mean? Where the hell is he? Why the f* is he in my head??

Inevitably, I get angry. After all these years, my heart and mind still betray me. They let him in at my weakest, when my back is turned. I am resting, preparing for another day. And once he's been let in, it is days before my heart and mind let him go. He gets caught in the memories I have of us. He dusts off spaces in my heart that have not been touched in years. He gets comfortable- with every song I hear that has a memory of 'us' attached to it, with every book I see that we talked about, every place we visited, with every spot on my body that his lips touched. I cannot free myself of him. It is maddening.

I know that I no longer love him. I haven't for years. All these memories? It's like I read them in a book; it doesn't even feel like it was me who made those memories. It's like it never really happened. I can go weeks, months, seasons, without thinking of him. But then the dreams hit me, smack the shit out of me while I'm sleeping next to the actual man that I love, the wonderful man that I married.

My brain is assaulted with things I have not thought of in so long. Memories that are so close to my heart. Things that strike a nerve, a nerve well-healed and protected.
I am forced to think of what he is doing now. Who he married. Where he lives. Who he chose over me. What he chose over me.
I am forced to replay in my head the times he made me laugh, the times he made me cry, the things I said, did, and gave up for him.
I am forced to wish that I could, for just one minute, get back the me I was back then. The me that was much more laidback, free-flowing, intimate, sensitive, and full.

Sometimes I cry. But very rarely. Mostly I get all nostalgic, but with clenched fists.

It has taken me years to realize that it is not the person that I miss or love when I wake up from these dreams. It is not his arms, his lips, the whisper of his voice in the dark. It is not even the things that he showed me, taught me, shared with me. It is:

The feeling of total love and adoration by another person.
The feeling of being accepted no matter what.
The feeling of being in love.

It is my feelings that I miss. My feelings that are attached to my memories of him. It is not him. He may have showed me how to be patient. He may have showed me that in a moment of weakness, you can lay it all on the line, and still be strong. He may have touched my heart, touched my life. He may have branded my soul with things he said. But it is not him that I miss. It is my feelings.

Does this mean that I don't have feelings now? Or that I don't love my husband, my life, the feelings I have now? No, I don't think so. I would not trade my life for anything. By doing so, I would be negating the blessing that is my daughter. But I would be lying if I said that I don't lie awake after these dreams, wondering what might have been if I had chosen another path, if I hadn't returned that phone call, if I had forgiven him one more time. Who then, would I be dreaming of?

She's Aliiiiiiiive!

Hi. Remember me? Miss me? I've missed you guys, let me tell you! Today was the first time in three weeks that I had any time to actually read blogs. My Google Reader is now down to 685. Whew. What a relief....I think??

Now, let me answer all your questions, since I can hear all four of you trying to talk over each other.

Where the hell have I been?: Well, ummm... Hidden under 4 social work 'foundation' books (2 are pretty good, 2 are hideously boring), 'reaction' papers, journal articles, presidential debates, Jon & Kate Plus 8, The First 48, 5K walks, and dog puke. Yeah, dog puke. Which, by the way, was disgustingly yellow. Too much information?

Where the hell are the Pay It Forward prizes?: Okay, so I have had them all ready to mail out, minus the padded envelopes. But I promise I am mailing them out tomorrow. I bet you don't believe me though, do you?

I've got 3 papers and 1 presentation all due this month, in addition to a midterm. But I am making it a goal to schedule some posts that have been on my mind lately.

And can I tell you? I am only tired when I get up in the morning. I just don't wanna wake up!!If I could sleep for a day, that would be fanfuckintastic, let me tell you.

****************

My girl has decided to be a Fairy Princess for Halloween. Originally, she was going to be a monkey, which really is fitting for this family. But, have you ever done a search for monkey costumes? There aren't too many cute ones, let me tell you, so I was almost relieved when she changed her mind last week. Whew!! So, we went from brown-banana-on-the-head blah, to pink-and-green-sparkles-frilly-tulle PRECIOUS!

***************

Let me just share some of the fun stuff I'm looking forward to this month, because I am all SQUEEEEEE! about some of it:

-5K run/walk for Child Advocates this Saturday

-Fun birthday party for the husband of a friend of a friend (who I hope becomes a friend) (does that make any sense at all?)

-Pumpkin patch with my girl, Kristy, and her boys

-Texas v. OU game!!! Hook 'em Horns!!!!

-Race for the Cure in Dallas

-A family costume party, complete with a hayride and bouncy house

-A Halloween festival, complete with face painting, a 'haunted' trail, and pumpkins

-Halloween!!

-Picking out pumpkins with my girl, who has informed me that we are buying 'a mommy one, a daddy one, two baby ones, a sister one, and a brother one'

Sorry that this post is all over the place, and not exactly funny, nostalgic, or blog-worthy. I'm just all.over.the.place. Forgive me?

G'night. ZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Frickety Frick

After a day filled with food I wasn't in the mood to eat (although it was yummy), I was worn the hell out by 9pm. My girl went to sleep easy as pie, and I didn't even have the energy to think that it was tooo easy. I was already dreaming of curling in a ball in my bed, with the ceiling fan on high.

So off to Dreamland I went, fairly quickly, after watching an hour or so of Deadliest Catch (love that show!!). I slept that kind of deep, dark sleep that is just black and silent and full of NOTHING. Then, about 3 hours later, I woke up with my heart pounding in my chest, and my nerves on edge. I held my breath, listened for odd noises (other than all the damn snorers in my house!), and got up to get a drink. The dogs were still asleep, so I figured what my body was reacting to was not a sound, or they would have been barking their heads off. Or maybe not, because they are both getting a bit deaf in their old age.

I finally convinced myself I was nuts, and drifted back to sleep.

At 5am, I am having a sweet dream about someone I used to know, and in the middle of this dream is this unwelcome sound:

Sqweet, Sqweet.

Sqweet, Sqweet.

It is loud, annoying, never ending, and holy hell-did I mention LOUD????

I wake up and try to assess where this damn sound is coming from.

Sqweet, Sqweet.

I go to the living room, to make sure one of the dogs isn't chomping down on their squeak toy. Nope. Just snoring and farting in that room.

Sqweet, Sqweet.

I realize it is coming out of my bathroom. My bathroom, that is all travertine, beauty products, plants, and more travertine. To say the least, everything (and I do mean everything) echoes in there.

SQWEET, SQWEET.
SQWEET, SQWEET, SQWEET, SQWEET.

By this time, I am utterly annoyed that I'm up at 5am hunting for some fucking thing that apparently doesn't realize that the sun has set, not rose, and it is SLEEP-TIME in my house, NOT SQWEET TIME.

I track the sound to my walk-in shower. I briefly think about my girl saying Sunday morning, "There's a cricket in the dr-ain", but she has the memory of an elephant, and I figured she was talking about the time there really was a cricket in the drain.

But then I think, "Maybe there's another cricket in the drain". So my first idea was to fill a glass up with water and dump it down the drain, hoping to drown the fucker.

'Frickity frick, you stupid cricket.'

SQWEET, SQWEET, SQWEET.

What the hell? Why isn't he gargling, or drowning?

Next, I bang on the wall, which only makes him stop for a second or so. But then:

SQWEET, SQWEET, SQWEETSQWEETSQWEETSQWEETSQWEETSQWEET

OH HOLY FUCK! make it stop!

At this point, I balance the pros and cons of waking my husband up for something so damn dumb. I decide that silence and sleep is more important than my reputation (which, if I must say, is already shot with my husband-he thinks I'm a dork already).

So I wake him. He has this wild, non-focused look in his eye, and he frowns at me as I say: 'Do you f-ing hear that???'

Him: 'Yeah, what the hell is it?'

Me: 'A f-ing cricket, I think, but I can't find it!! Frick! Please help!!'

Him: 'Are you kidding? Jeez, just shut the bathroom door.'

So, I figure I'll give it a go, but now it is just a muffled SQWEET SQWEET and that does not help me any.

Me: 'I will go NUTS if that doesn't stop!'

Him: 'Just go back to sleep!'

Me: 'What? It woke me up!!! Are you kidding?'

So he begrudgedly gets out of bed and stumbles into the bathroom. Usually, I would be up his ass, telling him to just catch it and throw it outside, but at 5:20am, I just do NOT give a damn! So I hop in bed, and listen to:

SQWEET, SQWEETSQWEETSQWEET
'Where are you, you bastard?'
SQWEETSQWEETSQWEETSQWEET
'Oh, he's behind the shower spray cleaner. You didn't see him??'
SQWEETSQWEETSQWEETSQWEETSQWEET....

At this point I hear shower spray cleaner being sprayed, and I hear this:

SQWEET SQWEET SQWEEEEEEEeeeeet, sqweeeegggrrrgggllllllll.........

Ah, sweet silence.

And then:

'Squeak on that, mother-fucker.'

Seriously? I mean, come on. Another damn night of stormy weather, trying to sleep in uncomfortable positions, my kid screaming.......What the hell have I done to deserve this???

I am so tired right now, that I don't think I can type in complete sentences. I am going to throw some psycho-analytic stuff your way, and let you try to figure out my whole 'stream of consciousness' blubber:

2am-Lightning, thunder so loud it shook me awake, electricity out, screaming terrified toddler.
2:02am-Husband snoring, hail, 60+ mph winds, toddler whining about being held in just the right way.
2:04am-Scream at the husband, tornado sirens, still no electricity. Tornado? Who the hell knows, because seriously, after 3 damn years of 'severe weather' while living in Springtown, I still have not invested in a damn weather radio.
2:20am-Toddler is hungry, I am sweaty with no air circulating in my house, my husband is going back to sleep.
3:00am-Pop Tart crumbs all over my side of the bed, spilled milk on my pillow, still sweating.
3:10am-Husband is snoring, toddler is bossing me around.
4:00am-Snoring husband. Talking, coughing, bossing toddler.
5:00am-Snoring husband. Snoring toddler. Both appear to be comfy, cozy. I, on the other hand, am curled up in a ball in some unnatural position, with about 4 square inches of sheet, no pillow, and the toddler's arm wrapped tightly around my neck.

Today, I can't turn my head to the right. My neck just won't give. My backyard is flooded....again. My toddler is still coughing, sneezing, snotting, and is extremely whiny. I am worn the hell out. My body aches, I have a little itch in the back of my throat, and yet....
it was I who was lying curled up in a ball in some unnatural position next to my toddler's crib this evening, as she coughed, coughed, coughed.

Oh, and I can't handle "Cool Burst" Tylenol Severe Congestion. Right now I have two little icy-hot bean-sized rocks lodged in the middle of my chest. How exactly does that help my stuffy head, stuffy nose, sinus pressure????

Off to bed I go, to dream of night-time fairies who will forgive my transgression when I stomp their asses and burn down their little fairy huts.