Phone Home?


When we moved into our house, I bought some chalkboard paint and painted a spot on the wall in the basement for the kids to draw on. Little did I know they would come up with this:

Tell me you don't see E.T. in that mess. I was staring mindlessly at it when the face just popped out at me. Kind of creepy. Interesting, but creepy all the same. Just look at it for awhile. You'll see it.

I Am Ashamed

I have sold my soul to the devil of the worldwide web and set up a MySpace account. After my many grumblings about how vile it is and how it's nothings more than an online mall for child predators, what would make me sign over my info to them? James Blunt.

Yes, James (I'm certain you read my blog on a regular basis even though we've never met and you haven't the foggiest idea who I am). It is entirely your fault. I, like so many of the more obvious women who have posted their love for you on MySpace, have fallen victim to your emotionally vulnerable songs. However, as I still have a decent grasp on reality (managing a house full of kids and kittens will do that to you), I will not be professing my love for you. Sorry. I know you're disappointed, but that's life.

I feel like I have become a sellout. I feel ashamed that I have succumbed to my weakness for information. And it's all your fault, James.

House Pictures


Thanks to the bridal shower I threw for Betsy, the house was actually clean enough to take some pictures of the work we've done so far. There's still a LONG way to go, but we'd have to win the lottery to do it all the way I want. We did buy two decent slabs of granite off Craigslist for $65 each. One of them is going to be used for a vanity top in our bathroom. Heath wants to build a bar out of the other. I like drinking as much as the next person, but I'm not sure about the bar idea with kids around. Plus, my grandparents would make me feel about two inches tall if they found out. Maybe I'm old-fashioned, but I still care what they think of me.

Anyway. Here are a few of the pictures and my excuses to go with them.


The dining room. It desperately needs a buffet or corner hutches or something. At least we got rid of the trailer-park chandelier.

The living room. There is a blurry Abby in several of the pictures I took. I really have no one but myself to blame for her hamminess. She's been subjected to countless photo shoots since the day she was born. I absolutely love the rug in this room. Too bad the pic doesn't do it justice.

Perrin's room. Underneath his bed was a favorite hiding place for Charlie and Lola until their heads got too big to fit. You wouldn't think they could get under there, would you? Between the head of the bed and the wall is a small gap. Once in that gap, they had access to the entire underside of the bed. That's where I always had to retrieve them from at vet visit time.

Abby's room. Can't guess the theme here, can you? I still need to finish the painting of her headboard. Primer white is not the intended finish. I have so many ideas for this project, but I'm trying to make myself be realistic about the time I have to do the things I want. I've even thought of making each shelf a different "room" in the castle when I paint them.

Our bedroom. I wanted to make a new headboard for the bed, but after finding the fabric to make the drapes I decided to use the one we had. At least for the time being. The gold accents on the headboard bring out the gold in the drapes. The blue and brown matched perfectly, too. The only fabric in town that met all of my qualifications. Now if we only had espresso finished furniture...

And, the basement. Looks a lot better with the new carpet installed three days before the shower. I'm still not fond of the wall color, but I got so sick of painting. The round, white thing on the couch is a balloon from the shower that I drew an animal of some sort on. Or maybe it was one of the face balloons. I can't really tell.

Exciting wasn't it? Be grateful I can't charge admission on my blog. That's all the picture sharing for now. I've got to get some sleep.

Bad Dream

I know my last post was less than twenty-four hours ago, but I had the most unsettling dream last night. It was one of those dreams that feels so real you almost think you're awake. I can't recall what was happening in the dream before or what happened after, but this part is very clear to me. It was nighttime wherever I was and I was outside. I heard my cell phone ring and looked down to see my pink Razr (Yes, my "real" cell is a pink Razr) in the palm of my hand. There were other people around me. No faces, but I "knew" my children were there and I had the feeling that Heath was somewhere slightly farther away. I flipped open the phone and said, "Hello?". I then heard a voice reply from the other end which I recognized instantly as I had hoped to never hear it again. Jeff.

***Background info: Jeff was Heath's best friend/roommate when we all lived in Atlanta. I met Heath while I was dating Jeff. Heath was dating someone at the time and he and I had the chance to become really good friends. Long story short: Things ended badly between Jeff and I. I know he had problems, but I was tired of trying (and failing) to help him solve them. I believe I have a decent caring side to me, but I can only be pushed so far.***

So, back to the dream. He asks me how I'm doing and I get the feeling he's depressed and lonely. I rather coldly ask him what he's doing calling me. It's been over between us for a long time. He mumbles something about how wanting to know how I'm doing and I tell him Heath and I got married and have two kids. He seems to be saddened even more by this and the call ends. I don't know if he hung up or if the call was dropped and I consider calling him back to make sure he's alright. In the end, I don't. It's not my responsibility to look after him and I didn't invite him into my current life. Perhaps that's cruel, but there you have it.

Add to that the fact that I woke up near dawn this morning and took some cough medicine on an empty stomach and went back to sleep and I feel really out of sorts today. I feel dizzy and half asleep from the cough medicine so I'm not clear-minded enough to push this unpleasant dream out of my head properly. I've eaten since I woke up for real and it hasn't helped. Heaven help me if I'm like this all day! The kids will destroy the house and the cats will likely drink all of the water out of the fish bowl. I wonder if I could sneak a nap in somewhere. (Oh, my. I actually forgot how to spell "sneak" for a moment there. WAKE UP, BRAIN!) Doubtful. Good thing twelve-hour cough medicine doesn't actually last twelve hours.

Coincidence?

I recently ranted about the flashing tower with ultra-bright bulbs that peers into our house at night. Last night, on one of my trips downstairs (I hate summer colds) I noticed it was no longer flashing with all the power of the sun. The conspiracy theorist in me says "they" are behind this and it was all some evil ploy to mess with my head. "They" read my blog and realized I had, indeed, noticed their little "improvement". Now, they've dimmed it back down to normal and I'm supposed to wonder if I imagined it all. Well, I have other witnesses so your plan had failed!

Of course, I merely jest. I still want to know why it was so much brighter for that week or two. Some sort of strange memorial custom I've never heard of? Someone installed the wrong bulbs? Security? Whatever the reason, I'm glad it's back to normal. As much as conformity irritates me, I think all towers should have lights of the same brightness. Actually, I like conformity in most all THINGS. It's really just conformity in PEOPLE that bothers me. I especially hate it in myself so don't go calling me a hypocrite or anything.

If "they" are reading this, I'm onto you.

Reminders


I haven't been writing much lately. In part, because I've been fairly busy, and in part, because I just don't know what to write. Even I get bored reading my writing about cats and nature. My cousin Dylan has been hanging out at our place a lot in the last week. I didn't realize he lived about a block away from us until our grandmother mentioned it a couple of weeks ago. I dropped him an invitation in the mail the next day and that Sunday he showed up at our front door. (Makes more sense than showing up at the back door, I suppose.)

It's been nice to have him around. The kids have a ball with him and he's an awesome chef. He's even helped out with stuff like mowing the lawn, cleaning the kitchen, painting, etc. He's also been a reminder to me that I have interests and talents that I've been neglecting for awhile. Like watching foreign and independent films or creating original artwork. He let me borrow a Latin textbook he had so I could teach myself something I've been wanting to learn for years. I let him borrow a Kurt Vonnegut novel. Which reminds me that there are still books of Vonnegut's that I have not read yet.

I finally unpacked most of my books. I discovered I need another bookcase. Maybe two. I've still got a long way to go to have the library I want to have, but at least it's a start. Just going through them made me want to hole up in a semi-quiet corner for weeks and read. Of course, there are still some books that I only keep because I hate to get rid of books. One of my flaws, I guess.

I've also been playing Brain Age again on my DS. Personally, I think Brain Age 2 is more difficult than its predecessor. Although, I do love the piano playing. Now, I wish (not for the first time) we had a piano. Or a rosewood marimba. I miss playing music. Playing an octave+2 sized keyboard on a handheld gaming system is a sorry substitute for the real thing. At least I'm exercising my prefrontal cortex, right? I can just imagine it doing Pilates inside of my skull. That's weird.

That thought has thrown my train of thought completely off-track. I'll have to try this again another day.

Hello, Universe!


The other night, I was up in the middle of the night for a drink (non-alcoholic) and as I was standing in the dark kitchen, I noticed what I THOUGHT was thunder flashing in distant clouds out the back window. As I was still half asleep, it took me a few moments to realize that the flashing had a regular rhythm to it. Upon closer inspection, I realized it wasn't lightning at all, but rather a tower of some sort that seemed to be affixed with several ultra-bright strobe lights. Has this been there all along and somehow escaped my notice? I find that difficult to believe as I have, on occasion, spent time on the deck stargazing. And the night we were all staring at the sky waiting for fireworks?

Therefore, I can only assume that this is a rather recent addition. Or at least they replaced all of the bulbs in an existing tower. Whatever they've done, I don't like it. There are three other towers right there near it and they aren't NEARLY as blinding as this one is. It's like they've stolen a tower from the airport or NASA. What, are they trying to contact aliens or something? Hello, E.T.! Come visit Ankeny! Playful City USA! Whatever the hell THAT means.

Heath, (who thinks I'm a bit off my rocker about all this) suggested that perhaps it's just bright because it's pointed toward us. I happened to be driving down a nearby street tonight facing a different direction than the rear of our house faces and the things was STILL annoyingly luminous. Flashing at me with this malicious glee. Alright. Maybe not malicious. It's still irritating, though. How am I supposed to view the Perseids with all of that nonsense obstructing my view of the night sky? Bastards. If this is the new standard in radio towers, my next home is going to be entirely underground.

Driving Miss Ditzy


Okay. I abhor driving about on Saturdays. I don't know what it is about the weekend, but it seems like every idiot and their brother old enough (not necessarily WISE enough, mind you) to have a license is out to wreak havoc upon the world. I've probably complained about this before, but it really irks me. Today, it happened to be a woman in a Mercedes (why doesn't this surprise me) driving ten mph BELOW the speed limit. And no, it wasn't because there was someone in front of her. Apparently, Mercedes don't come with turn signals anymore. At least the brakes work. Not sure about the air conditioning. The fact that the driver had to hang her arm out the window makes me wonder. I mean, how could she talk on her cell phone that way? Or, perhaps she was doing that to keep that nasty cigarette smoke out of her expensive automobile. News flash: YOUR CAR WILL STILL SMELL LIKE SMOKE AND SO WILL YOU!

Morons.

I'm not being judgemental of smokers. I used to be one, too. It's been over five years since my last cigarette and sometimes I STILL crave one. I probably would have caved in and bought a pack by now were it not for my amazing willpower. Plus, I can think of alot more cons than pros these days. Who can afford to smoke AND put gas in their car? Obviously a Mercedes driver can.

Now I sound like I'm being judgemental of Mercedes drivers. I suppose, in a way, I am. I'm sure some of you will say I'm just jealous. You're entitled to your opinion. It just seems like there's a certain pompous quality to (most of ) them. I know, I know. That's like saying everyone who drives an Escalade listens to rap music. (Or DO they...) I was once told I didn't seem old enough to be driving a Buick. I suppose Buick is considered a make favored by older drivers. Maybe my soul picked the car. It's better than one of those hideous minivans. I'd have to chop all my hair off, shop at Younkers, and start wearing white Keds.

In all honesty, I think I'm writing this to avoid the inevitable cleaning that must occur before the carpet is installed on Wednesday. And again before Betsy's shower on Saturday. Actually, before Tuesday and our trip to the zoo with Nicci and her kids. I'm never going to get it all done. What was I thinking?! Trying to groom myself for the fateful day when I, as the eldest daughter, become the matriarch of the family and have to take care of all holiday get-togethers and showers and such on a regular basis. I'm not nearly organized enough for this... Can people my age still change their habits? Guess we'll have to see, won't we?

Another Mundane Day


I don't know exactly how it's happened, but I've actually gotten busy lately. Between bachelorette parties, baby showers, vet appointments, errand running, and the like, I hardly know what to do with myself. It's been strange to have a social schedule to juggle. I sent out the invitations today for Betsy's bridal shower on the 16th. Short notice, I know, but it was either that or the weekend before the wedding. We're supposed to have our new carpet installed on the 13th so at least that will be done. Of course, that doesn't leave me with much time to get the basement back in order. Then there's the menu planning and entertainment for the shower. Nothing naughty since my grandma will be in attendance. Let's hope I manage to make my first hosting experience at least slightly better than a total disaster. I mean, we've had people over for dinner or cookouts before, but this is different. I love Betsy to death and I want it to be fun for her.

We upgraded our satellite package last week. Our DVR receiver up and died on us a couple of weeks ago so everything we had stored on it is gone forever. One day it works and the next day it won't turn on, but the fan is still running. ??? Asinine technology. Lucky for the DirecTV people it wasn't during a new season of "House". I'd be lost without Hugh Laurie's biting sarcasm. (I realize, it's probably actually the WRITERS' biting sarcasm, but without Hugh's delivery, there would be no House.) Alright, so I might not be lost, but I wouldn't be happy either. I really think the thing that's going to push me over the edge someday (if anything can) is having to fix the cushions on the upstairs couch. Seriously. All anyone has to do is sit on them and when they get up, the cushions need pushed back against the back of the couch. It drives me nuts. Every time I fix them I think to myself, "One of these days..." and I just want to throw the thing through the picture window. The chair doesn't have that problem. Why does the couch? Anyway...

I think I was going somewhere with the upgraded service... Oh, right. So we get more channels than we used to and one of them is always playing these old cartoons that Heath and I watched growing up. "Pound Puppies", "The Smurfs", "The Snorks". The kids love them. Some of them seem really unintelligent to me now and I wonder how my parents let me watch them, but they're still funny.

I should really be making dinner now. I'm slacking off on my wifely duties again. Although, I don't remember there being anything about cooking in my wedding vows...