My So-Called Life Rewind

5 09 2011

Today there has been a marathon on Sundance Channel of My So-Called Life.  I’ve enjoyed every moment.

I was 17 for the 7 months the show was on originally.  It was fantastic.

What average somewhat geeky straight girl in their teens didn’t want to be Angela Chase with a Jordan Catalano of their very own to notice them, think they were great and subsequently treat them like crap?  I know I did.  For crying out loud, watching the show today still makes me want my own Jordan Catalano.  Boy was hot.  I want one for no other reason than to have someone in my life I call by their first and last name constantly.  Because that’s kind of fun.  “I can’t talk to Jordan Catalano.”  “If Jordan Catalano is nearby, my whole body knows it.”  “So what did your parents think of Jordan Catalano?”  Well, maybe not NO other reason.  But that would be the biggest reason by far.

The only thing that seems unrealistic?  Thinking about sex all the time at 15.  When I was 15 I was in 9th grade and in my first year of high school and had a huge crush on…  ok, I see their point.  But even still, it wasn’t the first thing on my mind.  But then again…  if my crush looked like Jordan Catalano, maybe it would have been a different story.

Anyway watching the marathon today made me wish for a simpler time.  Oh, it didn’t seem simple at the time.  Like every teen I thought I was, oh so complex and deep and complicated.  No one could understand the intricacies and difficulties of being me.  After all, I was PROFOUND.   Yeah, not so much.

We grow up.  We learn there are issues bigger than a geometry midterm, parents meeting boyfrineds and sneaking off to the boiler room.  Or under the stairs as the case may be.  We still worry about our friends, would rather be liked than not and we learn that the Jordan Catalano’s of the world don’t change and can’t be fixed.  But in our memory, we still love them anyway.

Though I’d never want to do it over, I sometimes miss my teenage angst ridden days filled with brooding, pouting and the never-ending search for my very own Jordan Catalano.
First and last name.





Reason #5382 why being an adult can bite me

4 09 2011

No allowance given for yard work.

We don’t have a mower with a bag.  The last time Tom mowed within a couple days we had stripes of brown dead mowed grass in our yard.  (The same brown grass that prompted this comment and subsequent post regarding our neighbor).  To be honest, it looked like crap.   We seem to be the only bagless mower owners in the neighborhood.  So we were THAT house.

Today after Tom mowed and went back to chainsawing the tree he and his father brought down, I started raking.  We have .6 of an acre.  Which doesn’t sound like much, but if you take into consideration that our house is the size of a shoebox and our detached garage is the same size as our house…   we’re talking about two shoe boxes on .6 of an acre = lots of yard.

So I raked and I raked and I raked.  I got the whole front yard done, but it got to the point that it was too dark to see what was done and what wasn’t.  So we called it a day.  (Tom had stopped chainsawing and was collecting the piles.

Where is the person who’s supposed to pay me for doing this chore?  My husband had an inappropriate response, but since my mom reads this, I’ll leave it at that.  (Hi, Mom!).

I’m tired and sore and tired and in the words of Ringo…





Stupidity runs amok… more specifically MY stupidity.

2 09 2011

So here’s what I had planned to do today on Day 1 of my 4 day weekend”

– Shower
– Sort the Avon order and contact my clients to arrange delivery.
– Spend about an hour with just me and my idea book and brainstorm book ideas.
– Put in a movie and get on the Gazelle for about an hour.
– Shower again, because, obviously.
– Tidy up a little
– Watch a little TV
– Write a post
– Go pick my husband up at work.  
What from the list I’ve actually accomplished at almost 1pm. 
– Shower
What I’ve accomplished that WASN’T on the list
– Left my brain in bed sleeping, apparently.
– Answer the door to a sales guy – supposed sales guy 
– Watch his little demo of his magic cleaning stuff to take off paint, brake dust and some sort of something off our porch banister. 
– Stupidly say my husband wasn’t home.
– Panic because I just told a total stranger that my husband wasn’t home.
– Call the police to tell them that I’m an idiot and am now nervous because some stranger knows my husband isn’t home.
– Call my husband to tell him he married said idiot.  
– Obsessively go out front and out back repeatedly to make sure no one is sneaking up on my house to break in/kill me/rape me/murder me/kill my animals.
And oh, I did wrote a blog post.  




In which I thought I had lymphoma… (and other ramblings)

31 08 2011

Spoiler alert – I don’t have lymphoma.

Anyway, there was this thing in my ear.  I didn’t think much of it.  Pimple maybe?  Kinda hurt but no biggie.  And no, I know there are no lymph nodes in my ear for any of you medically gifted people out there who are already trying to connect the dots and tie in my thinking I had lymphoma into the thing in my ear.

So a few days later my ear hurt more.  Then Tom and I were in the car and I rubbed my neck and felt a lump on the side.  It was about the size of a pea and hard.   I immediately started to cry.  The ear was hurting more, not getting better and a dr’s appt was made.   In the back of my mind I was confident the two were linked.  In the front of my mind, I was surely dying of lymphoma.  

Turns out I had a nodule in my ear that had become infected.  Like mother of all infections infected.   And the lump in my neck?  That was the lone lymph node trying to fight the infection.  Don’t ask me why the rest of the lymph nodes didn’t step up to take part in the battle, but they didn’t.  That lonely little lymph node was fighting it’s heart out and I’m so appreciative.

Long story short the infection got taken care of and yesterday the nodule was taken care of and after the infection was taken care of within two days the lump in my neck was gone.  That lymph node is somewhere tropical on a well deserved vacation.  I’m sure of it.

And aside from some pain, I’m all better now.  Just need to heal.

______________________________________________________________________

School is back in now.  Which means very little to me since I have no kids and don’t go to school.  It means nothing except for two things.   TRAFFIC is the first thing.   They’ve built so many new homes and townhouse complexes between here and my husband’s work that even in the summer there was heavy congestion.  Now that school is back in?  We’re having to leave between 15 and 30 minutes earlier.  And STILL stopping and sitting in traffic.  The 15 to 30 minute buffer isn’t to avoid the traffic, it’s to allow for time to sit in it.  The other thing the start of school means is that I’m back to being the morning driver.  During the summer my husband drives in the morning.  But he has ZERO patience for traffic when he’s the passenger and even less than that when he’s the driver.  So now that we have super heavier traffic during the school year, I have to be the bleary eyed driver in the morning.  INTO the sun.

And just for the record, can I ask a question?  See, in stop and go and SUDDEN stop traffic, I leave room in front of me lest I rear-end the person in front of me.   Makes sense to me.  Seems a lot like logic.   So can anyone tell me WHY people in the right lane think that’s an open invitation to move over in front of me to the left lane?  Thereby effectively removing my buffer zone?  Because it happened 6 times on the way to work just this morning.   I’m not talking like a ridiculous about of space.  I’m talking a car length, in which they squeeze in their car.  It gives me stabby pains in my eyes.   Along with the ones I already have in my ear.

______________________________________________________________________

You know, I had this whole thing written in this space here, but I’m not doing it.  Some issues I don’t want to revisit to be quite honest with you.  But let me just say this.  I’ve recently come to believe that someone I used to be very good friends with but are now just Facebook friends with may read this blog.  So let me just say this:

To you, if you are reading, you know who you are.   Of everything I lost 5 and a half years ago for better or worse…  and in most cases for the better – you – are my only regret.  I see pictures of you, your husband and your two beautiful girls and when I see your face?  Oh my gosh, I just love you.  And miss you.  So very much.  And while I don’t actually expect anything between us to change because I really think some things may be insurmountable for me to get past (which is totally my issue, not yours at all) – I just wanted you to know how I feel about you.  I think you are a remarkable woman with a beautiful heart.  And I always will.
– Love, Amer

____________________________





A Letter to my Neighbor

28 08 2011
Dear Neighbor:

You seem like a decent guy.  You do.  And I do like that when things seem awry in our neighborhood you patrol it with a Colt45 tucked into your belt given the responding police are 40 minutes away.  But knowing that you’re a slightly different guy with a house full of guns gives me pause to bring this up to your face.  Not because I think you’d shoot me, but because I don’t want our house left off your rounds when a stranger walks into another neighbor’s house thinking she’s not home (we’re guessing to rob her) but finds her sitting in her easy chair in the living room and runs out.  Like I said, it gives me pause…   a long pause.

But if I WERE going to say anything to you it would be along the lines of “When I want your opinion on my weight I will ask you for it, you misogynistic jerk… got it?”  Because honestly, I am sorry that the previous neighbor with her tight body, fake boobs and highly age inappropriate clothing moved out and this fattie moved in three years ago thereby effectively removing your eye candy, but them’s the breaks.  You can’t win ’em all, buddy and I do not need you telling my husband that when he mows that I should follow behind him and gather up the grass clippings because, according to you, I could “use the exercise”.  Really?   REALLY?

And, I will admit, at first I was mad at my husband for not sticking up for me, but really, it’s just not worth it.  Plus, depending on how it went down that could be something that would ALSO leave us off your rounds and  I just don’t want that. And I was irritated that he didn’t tell you that I’ve lost 25 pounds in the last 3 months but the more I thought about it, I’m glad he didn’t – because why on earth would that be any of your concern or business?

So speaking of business I would suggest that you mind yours or I will keep up with the passive aggressive behavior I’ve been employing all night of “mistakenly” leaving on the side porch light which shines right in your bedroom window.  At this point I’m only intending on doing it for about a year.

So when I see you outside and our eyes meet and you look like you might make a move to come down the hill to shoot the crap with me, don’t be offended when I quickly take the dogs back into the house.  It’s only because I think you’re a jerk.

But thanks for your vigilante like method of law enforcement   It is appreciated.  Your opinions, however, about MY body?  Are not.

The old ball and chain of your neighbor…
Amy





I Don’t Want to be Cooked in the Squat

20 08 2011

For anyone who doesn’t know who Zig Ziglar is, you’re about to be introduced.

I used to listen to Zig Ziglar CDs all the time back when I fancied myself an insurance salesperson.  As my goals in life have changed, so have my listening habits.  I’m all sports talk radio all the time now.  Which really has nothing to do with any life goals except being happy and listening to sports talk radio makes me happy.

But what I forgot and lost sight of was that listening to Zig Ziglar made me happy, too.  Yes, he speaks on sales and successful selling and closing the sale – but he also speaks on successful living.  Goal setting and going for your dreams by building a foundation under them.

I was missing Zig and his unique voice the other night and took a chance and looked him up on YouTube.  There he was, in all his Zig Ziglar glory.  And while a lot of the videos were different parts of things I’ve heard when I listened to him before, there was a gem that I came across that I got to hear for the first time..

It’s about being “cooked in the squat”.   No one could speak better on what that means than Mr. Ziglar himself so here he is talking about being “cooked in the squat”.

I’m one of those people. The one that always seems to be waiting for something to start or finish or happen before I do what I want to do. Or become who I want be. And I think I’m done with that. I don’t think I want to wait anymore. I don’t want to be “cooked in the squat.” I want to rise up to my full potential and just BE.

So I’m gonna.





Favorite Post of the Week #8

19 08 2011

No contest.  My favorite post of the week this week almost made me pee laughing.  No joke.  

It’s this post here from the ravishing Shauna Glenn.  Because oh my gosh, it’s so something I would do and I love the way she writes it.

Definitely worth a read.  And Shauna, in general, is worth reading always.   Some of my favorite posts of Shauna’s:

Actually – you know what?  1.  There are SO MANY good ones.  2.  Every one I think of I have no idea when it was written, so I’ll never find them in her archives.  So make a cup of coffee or something, get comfy and just read them all.  It’ll be worth it.  She’s fantastic.   She should really have a “poop” category because THOSE posts?  Those are the funniest posts by far.  Hilarity ensues.

And I’m apparently a 12 year old boy.