My sister, Dashababy is a grandma. For those of you that know my sister, know that she is way to hawt to ever be called, ‘Grandma’, but she seems to be pretty damn proud of that title, so go over to her place and check out her first grandbaby. (Leave her comments too, she gets so jealous sometimes!)
The more pictures I see of her, the more she looks like my sister. How did Kathy’s genes get to be so strong that even MY kid looks like her though?
Congrats Paul and Tanya. Welcome to this crazy family, Riley Ann!
It feels like the days are dragging into each other huh?
The need to get on a plane is overwhelming.
My sister called the other night begging me to move back to Redding. She used the guilt trip method too. She must not be reading my blog lately because, “Co-Dependant No More” doesn’t allow guilt trips. I backed up that book with a Dr. Phil book.
Tonight I was actually thinking about it though. It might have been the Journey song that came on the radio. You see, in Redding they live by classic rock. They play Journey and Air Supply in church up there. It’s scary how out of the music industry they are. Anyway, a Journey song came on and the heater was blowing full blast…and the memories of Redding and Shingletown came flooding back. Good ones.
Redding is about 30 degrees hotter than hell on a good day. During the summer you have to have a towel in car to put over the steering wheel because if you touch the steering wheel after leaving the car in the sun for more than 2 minutes your hands WILL MELT. If you forget the towel, you have to learn how to drive with the tips of two fingers. God forbid you have a stick shift.
Living in Shingletown while going to high school in Redding without car means you’re spending an hour and half on the school bus, in the heat, going uphill on the curviest road created. You learn real fast to make friends with people who have cars. You can get home twice as fast and you don’t have to peel your legs off the pleather seats every few minutes. Our school bus in the 80’s looked like we were transporting 30 long haired dogs with all of us fighting to stick our heads out the windows. It was either to get some relief from the heat or to avoid the barf smell that lingers when someone throws up on the bus because of the nauseating drive.
The driving arrangements went like this; Preps and Jocks drove the slammed mini-trucks. These would seat two and the driver.
The guys who hung out with the preps drove El Caminos. These only sat two and the driver.
The guys who were just the dude that ‘hung out’ drove Honda Civics. seating FOUR and he driver.
Now you have the girls; Only one girl in our group drove and she lived half way between Redding and Shingletown and couldn’t drive us all the way home. She did drive a bad-ass Camaro. Kudos to chicks with big hair and nice cars.
The pecking order for being a passenger in a glorious car instead of the bus went like this; Girlfriend first. Best Friend second, Best friend’s girlfriend is third.
I dated the guy who rode a skateboard.
My best friend’s boyfriend lived in Redding…and probably had a suspended licenses.
Guess who rode the bus a lot?
One year I managed to secure a spot with the guy who drove the beat up Honda Civic. It didn’t have air conditioning, but that was okay. What sucked is that it overheated all the time so we would have to drive with the heater on to cool the engine. It didn’t have FM stereo either. All five of us would take turns thinking of a song we all knew the words to. Being from Redding the only songs we could sing with accuracy was Journey.
So with the heater blazing, feet burning, smoking and singing we were creating one of the greatest memories I had of living in Shingletown/Redding.
Tomorrow I will have to tell you about my best friends. There is picture that is now circling the internet with me in holding an empty bottle of Tequila. This picture is RIGGED. RIGGED I SAY! I can honestly say I have NEVER done a single shot of that evil toxin.
Never have I heard a story start with, “OMG, this one night I had such a good night, I was drinking Tequila.”
Nope, It usually start with, “The worst night of my life I was drinking Tequila…” and it ends up up with the story teller weaving you into a tale of puking and losing garments of clothing.”
I’m sure you have a story like that one. Tell it, as long as it doesn’t involve a Journey song. That would be just too pathetic.
Yesterday my left eyelid started twitching. It wasn’t the cute, ‘Whoa, my eyelid just twitch for a second!” it was the, “DEAR LORD STOP” variety of eye twitching.
My eye has been twitching non-stop. When it stops twitching for a few minutes it aches from all the twitching it was doing and I feel like I have the evil eye arch. Just when I think it’s gone…TWITCH.
There is something strange that happens when you have a twitch. You have to show everyone to confirm the twitch exists. I keep throwing my face into Shaun’s; “SEE IT? DO YOU SEE IT TWITCHING?” he starts giggling at me, which makes me frown and that sends the twitching deeper into my brain.
Tyler came into the bedroom to lay on the bed to watch TV and my eye started a full fledged twitching party.
“TYLER! LOOK! CAN YOU SEE MY TWITCH? OH MY GOD! see it? You do huh? You see the twitch-twitchity twitch thing right? see it?” Of course, he giggled at me. No sympathy for the eye twitching.
It’s been 24 solid hours of twitching (I checked the videotapes, I was twitching while I slept too) and my eyelid hurts like hell.
Shaun said it looks like my eyebrow has bass.
Any closet eyelid twitchers out there? How do you get it to go away!?
She will read all your messages and I told her, “The internet loves you, Kara.” She smiled and thanked me for the 3 page letter I wrote her telling her about the proudest moment I have ever experienced. I’ll share it with you;
Going back to college was a very hard thing for me to do. I had spent many years just trying to find the time to get into a GED prep class. It was impossible to do because I had a young, little girl that needed me there and I used the excuse that no matter how many times I tried to get to class, my ex would be late. I feared he was sabotaging my efforts to make something more of myself in fear that I would come to my senses and leave him. This may or may not have been the case, but the reality of it was that I was the one that was allowing myself to be sabotaged. I can not blame my failure on someone else.
After finding the most fantastic teacher that pushed me to do things I never thought I could do, I took my GED and I passed with flying colors. (Okay, I skinned by on the math part, but made up for it in History) I then decided to join college and see what I could do. I signed up for the hardest class they offered. Computer Science and Electronics. I was given a tour around campus and in each of the classes there was not a woman to be found. The adviser told me that the IT department was built mostly around men. She suggested I take the business course. I told her that I wanted the IT classes and signed up.
I cried the whole time I was filling out the paper work because I was so terrified of already failing. I had to do it. It was a sign from God. I mean this in the most strangest of ways too. On my way to a job I very good at, but not leading anywhere I took the wrong turn. I was in the middle of my crosstown prayer to God that went something like this, “Dear God, please let today be better than it was yesterday. Please let him see what effort I am putting into this job. Please don’t let his wife come in today and beat me down and make me feel stupid. Please, if this is not where you want me, direct me to the place you want me.” and that’s when I realized I missed my turn and I had to pull into a driveway that led to the College. I pulled up and it had some lame sign about, ‘Finding your future’. I then tried to pull out of the place and kept looping back to the front of the school. Trapped in the parking lot. This was my sign. Either come back and check it out or get a GPS system.
After my first few classes I was convinced I was a complete moron and there was no way I was going to be able to pull it off. When my electronic classes kicked in, I realized that my father must have given me SOMETHING through his DNA because I understood this, like I had studied it in a past life. I aced every single test I took. My parents were going to be so proud.
It was the hardest 2 years of my life, but because of my beautiful friend, Lisa taking care of my kids and my wonderful friend Keith helping me financially I made it through. ‘Cita pulled me off the couch a few times when I thought for sure I was going to quit. I did it though. I couldn’t wait for my mom and dad see me cross that stage to pick up my diploma.
My dad didn’t show up. My mother was there and she was beaming from ear to ear. After I crossed the stage and past her, I stopped and handed her my tassle. This woman deserved it just as much as I did. She watched me struggle through first grade until the day I finally quit high school. She tried…ohhhh, mamma tried.
I thought for sure that would be the proudest moment of my life, but it wasn’t. The moment came when I looked at Kara and saw how proud of me she was.
For all the years I watched her with proud parent eyes as she took her first steps, put on her shoes for the first time, walked into her first classroom and all the other scary things in life…she was looking at me with the same look of admiration.
Sometimes I feel like she’s walking in my shoes. Living my life all over. It’s painful to see those things, because I was so scared to death for so many years. Who am I kidding? I am still scared.
I just want to her to have a fair shot of not feeling like she has to take the first thing that is thrown at her. I want her to know that there is someone out there, there are lots of someones out there that will think she is hot shit on a stick. It feels SO damn good to be loved like you know you deserve to be loved.
She wants someone to hold her hand. She wants someone to say, “Kara is my girlfriend.” and I get that. I totally get that.
You’re all so very special for the things you wrote. I know she will read all of them and know she is loved. She is beautiful. It’s so hard to believe sometimes.
My wonderful friend from High School sent me some pictures of us. I use to think I was so ugly and now I look at those pictures and giggle at what a damn cutie I was. I had the hair, the acid washed jeans (his pegged) and a dorky boyfriend…how could life get any better than that? I hope she can look back at her pictures and say, “Yeah, I was hot!”
By the grace of God I will not let her believe she isn’t worthy of the love she deserves.
She doesn’t need to believe the shit those boys in 8th grade say to her.
YES, she is different. NO, she isn’t a cheerleader or a popular. YES, she has a weird sense of humor. NO, she isn’t the smartest girl in school.
BUT SCREW YOU, she is BETTER than all those girls will EVER be.
OH, the places she will go. She will will travel and see the world. She will graduate from college and prove you wrong. She will be beautiful and when she smiles…all of her teeth will be in the exact place they should be. Her personality will make you wish you had given her the time of day. She won’t remember you though. You know who she will remember? She will remember Kyle Hudgins and how you all picked on him and how he ALWAYS had her back. She will remember his friendship and respect him for it. YOU will not get that respect because you wouldn’t sit next to her in the gym because she was ‘different’. For the girls who pick and tease her, you will also not be remembered. She will remember Avery and how Avery was always there to understand her silly jokes and call her when she was down.
She will meet someone who will love her for ALL that she is. Weird, dorky, funny, beautiful and SMART.
But, dear God…give me the strength to teach her these things, that she IS worthy of all of this. Don’t let her settle for the first person that shows her attention. Let me be smart enough to teach her that she is SMART and she is BEAUTIFUL and SO SO SO WORTHY. She doesn’t deserve to ever feel trapped, unloved, scared and pushed into a corner.
Kinda deep for a To Do List huh?
Did you play?
Okay, this year seriously BITES on American Idol. I really don’t like any of the guys. the women are split down the middle.
I like the Jack Osborne guy because…well, he’s weird and funny. He can sing, but he’s no Chris Daughtry.
The women; How do you politically correctly say this? Screw it. The black girls ROCK, KICK ASS, CAN SING!. I mean, ALL of them are fifty times better than the white girls. There, bring on the hate mail, I said ‘black and white’ and compared the two.
Now on to the Shaun Commentary from the evening (the only real reason I watch this show).
After returning from picking Marina up from church and missing the second and third singers.
“What did I miss?”
“Nothing. You have to rewind and watch the dog walker, she’s sort of weird.”
“The red head? I HATE HER!”
“Shaun, you haven’t even her sing yet.”
“Doesn’t matter. I HATE HER.”
“You can’t ask that, You can’t ask WHY I hate someone. I just do.”
After she started singing;
“Well, I don’t really like her either, but I do like her boots!”
“You know what those boots are?” he asks.
“Those boots were made for dog walkin’. And that’s just what they’ll do.”
He REALLY doesn’t like the dog walking, red head.
Tomorrow’s SPF: ‘Your TO DO list’.
When Shaun and I were going through our baby withdrawals we decided we needed to do something to get past it. We headed to Walmart and bought MP3 players. They had all types of colors, but we wanted the ones that were on sale and because of it, we both ended up with two identical white MP3 players. We were going to take our cute, matching MP3 players to the gym.
I THOUGHT mine was the one in the van until I started listening to the music on there.
“Hmm, sure a lot of Matchbox 20 on here.” Don’t get me wrong. I love me some Rob Thomas, but I really don’t remember adding every single song he has recorded on to my MP3 player.
“AH HA!” (the exclamation, not the band) “AH-HA! this isn’t mine. This one has to be Shaun’s player. I mean, come on…I would never in a million years put The Momma’s and the Papa’s on mine.”
Today I found MY MP3 player in the van. I turned it on and it was, none other than, Matchbox 20.
“Crap, this is Shaun’s! AGAIN.”
In an effort to make sure it wasn’t really mine I had to shuffle through the songs until I found the music that is exclusively MY taste in music and not Shauns:
Chris Cornell covering Michael Jackson’s Billie Jean.
I Will Survive By Gloria Gaynor (doesn’t every work out involve THIS song?)
Every song from Kid Rock’s Rebel Without A Cause CD.
Violent Femmes’ Kiss Off
Limp Bizkit’s Break Things
and last, but of course not least;
Conjunction Function by School House Rock
It’s my grab bag of catch up.
I thought it was Monday and my day was screwed up all day because of it.
People, especially clients who you went over the moon to please and then they turned you around and put it in your rear, REALLY piss me off and make me sad at the same time.
American Idol this year; to quote people who are way more hip than I am, ‘I am not feelin’ it‘. I like the Jack Osborne looking dude. That is all.
I pulled out some books I needed to re-read. This book, I recommend for everyone that breathes: Co-Dependant No More by Melody Beattie
the tagline for the book is, “How to stop controlling others and start caring for yourself” It was written 20 years ago for people living with people in AA or battling alcoholism.
Now don’t let that turn you away because you’re not a ‘controlling’ person or living with/dealing with alcoholism. This book has saved my life once before and since rereading it again, I am amazed how much of the lessons I learned and stuck with me.
“I did not cause it. I can not control it. I can not cure it.” This was the line that jumped out at me the first time I read it and I think because of reading this book, dealing with the things in my life is allowing me to be able to look at situations and say, “That’s not mine, that’s yours.”
Britney – Media, leave the girl alone. She is just doing what we all have wanted to do; lose our damn minds and do something nuts. I would do the same thing right now, but the bald spots…not so attractive…red and patchy. Eww.
Anna Nicole – Media, show more boobs.
RAP CAT CONTROVERSY: This commercial started a revolution and now animal activists are pissed that Checkers (the hamburger joint) have a take out bag that you can cut the holes out of and dress your cat up in ‘rap cat’ costume.
People that are pissed: KNOCK IT OFF! Have you missed EVERY SINGLE PERSON WHO HAS A DOG AND TOO MUCH MONEY? It’s a bag and a cat. These people would be SO pissed at me if they found out the stuff we did to our cat. It involves tape on the bottom of the paws and a bong hit.
SPF: Your TO DO list. I’m not a list maker, but I like to see the writing of our readers and sometimes I get to catch a view of a ‘doodle’ on your list.
Mental Health: I am SO Britney Spears right now. I’m not the cute dancing in the hallway in a sexy uniform Britney. I’m not the sucking face with Madonna Britney. I am not the driving around with the kid on my lap Britney. I’m also not the strange lipstick and no shoes interview Britney.
I am really close to the shaving of the head crazy Britney. They have a 24 hour ‘anxiety rehab’ I can check into?
No worries, I promise to keep my panties on and not flash the media my coochie.
Yes? No? What browser are you all using??
I really like this layout and want to be able to work with it, but I don’t want to use it if you guys see it like this:
Eww, Internet Explorer makes it all squishy to the side and all not centered and all not good at all.
This post brought to you by the word: ALL.
Okay, so How do you all see it? First picture? Second picture? IE or Firefox?
The windows of Coit tower have pennies and other denominations of money on the ledges from visitors from other countries. It’s cool.
It’s been a couple of months and I keep saying I wanted to redesign Random and Odd. Last night I decided it was going to be the night.
NINETY ONE pages of 9 screen shots each to wade through. 91. I must have FTPed about 70 different designs to my editor and checked to see how everything lined up.
They have everything from truly ugly to damn ugly. There are spatterings of ‘oh hell no’ themes.
I realized half way through the search that I was looking for something that fits the person I am ‘right now’. I paused for awhile and thought about it.
“Shaun, I need you to make me a header that has band-aides all over it.”
“Because that’s what I feel like.”
“I’m not seeing your vision.”
I figured around midnight that I wanted something very plain. I couldn’t wake up Shaun and have him make me a ‘simple, but classy’ header so I had to make it myself. The sleeping pill had kicked in and THAT up there is what you got.
It’s going to take some getting use to. I still have to link up some stuff and get rid of the missing people on my links list. I also need to get rid of the people that are fair weather peoples…so if you’re over there, raise your hand. If you’re here all the time and you’re not on that list, raise your hand.
Oh and did the redesign fix the problem with people not being able to update their information?
TWO CENTS ANYONE?
UPDATED: Thanks for the honesty on how it looks. I am guessing the people that are seeing that huge clump of white to the right are the people using MICROSOFT IE and not FIREFOX (the superior browser). When I opened it in IE, I could see what you were talking about. That was a look I wasn’t going for. In fact, I went through a bunch that looked like that in Firefox and deleted them. Darn it.
Yes, it’s stark huh? Like, almost hospital type of clean.
*sigh* I found a layout I liked, but it was all Christmasy. Since Shaun was asleep I couldn’t get him to change the design of it to get rid of the presents and ornaments.