PHOTOBLOG!

Photo Blog!

I have been wanting to show these to you for a while now.  Have you seen them?  It's a line of print ads for Durex, and it is advertising genius!  Now, I haven't used condoms in more than a decade (gasp!), and when I did we were solidly a trojan couple (we had a close call with some other brand, and swore never to waver from the helmet ever again!), but these durex ads could really sway my thinking!

Enjoy:

I love images made of words, I love sexy silhouettes, so, BAM! 

Also, did you note how the man's words\phrases are much simpler and one-note than the woman's? Hilarious.
Um, though, I know you're a condom Ad, Durex, but no, I bet that a wrapped cock is not TASTY, no matter how much fake strawberry you slather on it. Yicky.

Yay!

And here are some bonus pics.  Aaron has always rather hated our subway map of New York, and insists that it looks like a chode and big balls.  I guess he's not alone in his thinking:

 

And finally, best advice ever, right Danielle? :)

Don't go down without this maxim in your head!

Hope you enjoyed this first photoblog friday!  It was kinda phallus heavy, but, hey, I love the cock! :)

Not a Photo Post...

Nobody had any suggestions for which day of the week might be a good photoblog day, and that was cruel, folks, because I'm a libra and have a great deal of difficulty with such decisions.  So I asked the Hubs, who is a Leo and has little to no issues with decision making.

He decided Wednesday, right smack in the middle.

I was going to start yesterday, but was busy having a very fun and then very busy wednesday.  Yesterday was our 14th anniversary.  14 years together.  Awwww.  Of course we couldn't, um, celebrate the usual way because it is that time of the month, but we had some chill fun.  We got some delish veggie sandwiches, we watched nostalgic sitcoms, played videogames, and then I had to work on work stuff, then we cuddled up in bed and reminisced until we drifted off to sleep.

I am very grateful to be living out our simple dreams together.  No matter what else, we always said to eachother, we always promised, that as long as we could be together, we'd be happy.  As long as we could fall asleep in eachother's arms and wake up beside eachother, we could live anywhere, do anything, endure everything, so long as we had eachother.  Sometimes we get caught up in the silly stuff.  Sometimes we get stressed about money and babies and jobs and passions that pull us away from reality.  But our base, here, together, is solid and loving and understanding and strong, and I should be on my knees everyday in thanks for that.  (incidentally, I am on my knees almost daily, for which he is very thankful:)

So what if I never become a writer?  Or a mother?  So what if I never have  a big house or a big bank account?  So what if my dress size always stays in double digits?  I told him I'd be happy in a shack, so long as it was OUR shack and we could be there together.  And that remains true.  I love him more each day, I love living with him more every day, and look forward to years and years and years with my best friend, my soulmate, my lover, and my husband.

And if, for some reason, we ever have to live apart, the way we did for TEN YEARS of our lives, then so be it.  We lived and loved and learned whilst living apart, and we were closer apart than most couples who live together.  There is an intimacy borne from hours upon hours in quiet conversation on the phone, stretching across distance, reaching across miles.  We were one, despite inhabiting separate spaces.  And we longed for the completion, longed to merge and exist together in one space, but we endured, we even thrived.  The friendship was solid, the love was passionate, and when we did get together, the physical? Whoosh.  Mind blowing.

I'd rather not go back to living apart, ever, but I know we have the stuff to make it thorugh, should that need arise.  And while we have this precious time together, I vow to stop each day or each night, to stop, and close my eyes, and say a 'thank you', then open my eyes and look at the life we have made, and smile.  No matter the mess, no matter the stress, no matter the uncertain future, no matter any of that.

I am a lucky, lucky individual.  And I am grateful.

And I will probably do photo post on FRIDAYS instead of wednesdays! lol.  So look forward to that!

Breakdown in T-Minus...

Remind me, club me over the head and chain me down if you have to, but remind me next year that I am seriously, seriously done with this job.

Still love the kids.  I really really do.  But as Aaron said tonight: "I don't care what they're paying you; it can't be worth it."

It isn't, incidentally, worth it.

Tonight I want to die of sore thorat and summertime head cold, and all I want\need\crave is a long, drugged-up sleep for my body to heal, but I am fighting exhaustion here trying to make fucking Aesop's fables feel fresh and interesting and not so fucking lame and we-had-nothing-better-to-give-you-so...do-fables-y......


I love the kids.  I think if I didn't I might just throw my hands up and do this little childrens book exactly as she handed it to me...a children's book with middleschoolers.  Going-to-be-eighth-graders.  URBAN ones for christ's sake.

Oh, and don't give them a lot of lines, and do alot of unison, and basically sabotage any chance they have a being good or having a good time.

Aw.  I'm mostly crabby because of the cold.  I warned you.  But honestly.  Fables?

I'm so tired I think I'm just gunna cry and go to bed.

You Wouldn't like me when I'm... Sore-Throat-y!!

Wahhhh!

I have a SORE THROAT!

I thought at first that it was a touch sore from the deep throating I had performed last night (That happens sometimes...blame the endowment!  I actually kinda like that kind of soreness after... but I digress...)  But NAY!  The sreness stuck around, got worse, and as of right now ASPIRIN ain't touchin' this baby.

It SUCKS :(

Wahhhh.

Have oyu ever known me when I've been suffering an honset to goodness, and not blowjob-on-a-hung-guy kind of sore throat?  Well, let me tell you:

I AM A FUCKING BABY when it comes to sore throats.  Some people are wusses (what a silly looking word.  Also, what is the proper way to write that something was all pus-y?  Like, as in, filled with pus? Is it: Hey, my infected finger is all pussy?  heeheehee... OWWW my Throat hurts! *pout pout whine cry:(....) when it comes to things like nausea.  Not me.  I'd take nausea any day over sore throat.  I can handle vomiting.  This?  Wahhh.  Some people hate cramps.  They are lousy, but Hell, take some midol, grab a pint of ice cream and all better!  This???  Wahhhh.

I think I got it from babysitting my neices this weekend, who both had sniffles and colds.

Bitches.

No, I didn't mean that.... not their fault... just the sore throat....

I hope I didn't give Aaron's penis Step....

Can that happen? Heeeheeehee.  I hope not. 

Anyway. The only thing that helps, that I have found in all my years, is TYLENOL SORE THROAT **LIQUID**  The liquid part is key.  Don't even bother with pill form.  Drink some of the awful blue potion, and know some relief.  Or suffer miserably.  Those are the options.  Unfortunately for me, this time of year I find that TYLENOL SORE THROAT IQUID is kinda thin on the ground.  Let's hope I stocked up after the last sore throat.  I don't own a fire extinguisher, but I'll be damned if I let my supply of Tylenol Sore Throat run low--- that would be an emergency!!  If it has run low or os--godforbid--all gone, then we all know who to blame....

And if that's the case, then, hell, I DO hope I gave his penis Strep!!

Wahhh :(

Little Victories

Today I learned how to properly hard boil eggs, without leaving an unsightly green film on the yolk.  You should have seen how beautiful and golden those yolks were! 

(Yes, I'm 27 and just now learning how to boil eggs.  Last year I learned how to bake a potato.  Baby steps, people!)

It wouldn't have mattered either way, because my plan for these eggs was to make egg salad with whipped avocado instead of mayo!  Never the less I took great comfort in knowing how perfectly white-and-golden those babies were underneath the avocado.

I had this idea probably months and months ago, but today I finally did it!  I was thinking, one day, about the creamy smooth texture of avocado and it occurred to me that it might be a delicious replacement for mayo in egg salad.  BUT, having never actually tasted real (traditional) egg salad, I wasn't sure it would be good.  And the fact that I'd never heard of it being done before wasn't exactly a confidence booster.

But I ran the idea by the culinary whiz that is my Husband, he grew thoughtful for some moments, and decided that it would be quite good.

And so, tonight for dinner, we had avocado egg salad on adorable little buns for dinner!  And it was awesomesauce!  I kinda wonder now if I might like real egg salad.  But I am really not a mayo fan (thank christ.  Can you imagine how big I'd be if I DID?  Now if I could just stop liking chocolate, cookies, carbs, and sodium, I'd be on my way to a healthy lifestyle!) and I'm glad we did this healthy fat substitute.  Loaded with vitamin E!

Invite us to a get together and you may just get a wonderfully yummy spring-green egg salad!  Oh.  Maybe that's why folks don't do it...  Ah well.  I would eat them in a box, I would eat them with a fox!


Avocado Egg Salad

Hardboil some eggs (put them in a bowl of ice water when you remove them from heat and this will give you the perfectly golden and not icky green yolks!  Again, not so relevent for this particular dish, but a good tip for the future. Do this with asparagus too, incidentally, for bright and deliciously brilliant green asparagus!)

Mash up or whip avocado, add salt (and pepper) and paprika to taste, and add some butter (we use butter substitute smart balance) whip all together.

Add avocado mixture to chopped up eggs, mix all together until you have desired egg salady consistency.

Serev on some kind of bread product!

Enjoy :)

Gotta Get Down On Fri-daeyyy

A heat wave?!?!?

Our apartment has some fantastic central air.  But everywhere else that I go?  Sticky and yucky and gross!

To day I went for a meeting at Central Schools to collect materials necessary to being a teacher in Brockton!  I feel as though a good measure of weight has been lifted off me.  I have been so very anxious about how to approach teaching ELA, and this meeting has gone a long way in making me relax, de-stress, and begin to feel productive, rather than overwhelmed.

I was given many "bibles".  A Vocabulary bible, a poetry bible, a non-fiction writing bible, a curriculum bible, and the biggest of all: The MCAS bible.  Sad that the MCAS bible was bigger than the entire curriculum bible.  But I'm a resource whore!  Give me materials upon materials, I can't get enough!!  I'm the type to salivate over well-stocked bookshelves; and I ADORE reference materials.

So now the trouble is that I have my 'starting kit' and nowhere to start!  I mean literally.  I have no physical space, no 'office space' as it were.  I realize that I need to get organized in a major, major way, and am committed to doing it.  But getting that ball rolling?  Sheesh.

I mentioned before, I think, that Aaron has planned to design and build this fabulous workstation for me.  It really is something awesome.  It will be a desk\kitchen island.  See, I will have a desk, and file space and a good size surface area, too, just for me, and THEN when company is coming over or we need a surface for kitchen work or other such things, well, instead of being left with the unenviable task of clearing off my desk (a miserable prospect, as I know I will almost always be Mid-project and will have papers stacked in certain ways and have materials strewn about!)  Well, there is a HINGED island top that flips up and into place and conceals my desk and all it's messy glory beneath.

It will be fabulous.  It will be GREEN (painted, not especially eco-friendly, though of course we strive for that in all projects...)!  It will be a high bar-top type kitchen island and a regular height desk.  It is brills.  Like a secretary desk or a roll top in the way it conceals my chaos, but so much better because it is FUNCTIONAL while closed, not merely decorative.

Now the trouble is getting it built.  We have SO LITTLE TIME!  And we also have another few critical projects to complete; The secret wardrobe\door\bookcase.  The Craft Loft.  Then the Tetris Shelves and the Couch re-upholstery!  So much to do, so little time, so little funding.

I've said it before, and others echo my chorus: If only I could clone Aaron.  Cloning me would be less useful.  And having more than one Aaron around the house would be ideal for some fun nocturnal activities too ;)

Anyway.  Now I'm hot under the collar as well as hot everywhere else!  Stay cool, stay hydrated, stay well :)

Dinner at my parents' tonight, but good news: it's take-out!

Orange Disaster!

Orange!

Eeek.

It was a disaster!!

Oh, the poor kids.

It started out ok, and I thought they might just pull it off, I really did!  Sometimes that theatre magic just SNAP kicks in and BOOM!

But.  Not today.  Utter travesty of sketch theatre!!

One person forgot their line, and then, to overcompensate another actor skipped wayyyy ahead in the script, then they were ALL confused and suddenly it was the end and.... sheesh.  Poor kids.

Ah well.  Today I was reminded that failure does not actually equal death!  Hoorah for surviving and learning!

Everything in Moderation?

There's been alot of talk and hubbub and buzz around the power of positive thinking, about willing things into being, about putting on a happy face and being new and starting fresh and making happiness and all that jazz.

I have been one of those who goes through this cycle time and time again.  Make my own happiness, pilot my own destiny, create the self I want to be.

This time around I admit to feeling a bit cynical.  In so many ways I am completely wide-eyed and enthusiastic, and believe anything can happen.  But for whatever reason, I'm just not quite on the positive thinking = solution to everything problem just yet.

I want to believe.  I try.  But I am, apparently, a big ball of negative energy.  A friend to no one, enemy to all the rays of sunshine out there.

Believe me, I'd love to will away the bills I have to pay.  Happy thoughts my way to a better body and a healthy self-image.  Magic my apartment into the dream apartment.  Be Zen and chill about the old fertility hot-button. 

I want those things.  And on some days I can even bee merry and cheerful and adapt the sorta bouyant que sera, sera attitude that is so thoroughly en vogue among kids my age these days.

But most days the cynic within chuckles, shakes her hear, quirks an eyebrow and says:  Are you fucking kidding me?  Get the fuck over yourself and knock it the fuck off, lunatic.  This costume doesn't fir you, this isn't a role you should pretend to play.  Fake fake fake fake fake. 

The cynic in me is a sassy bitch.  But I prefer her tough-as-nails persona to the weepy depressant within.  That chick's a real downer :(

I've seen true blue friends stick by me.  I've watched fairweather friends up and evaporate.  Positive thinking only slightly improves my days, but a protein shake in the morning does wonders for my energy levels (Bolthouse Farms, delish!  but I am poor, so this cannot be a daily habit!)-- but that requires me to be motivated enough to curtail morning cuddles and get out of the house early enough to treat myself.

I thought so many positive, warm, amazing, willing thoughts about so many ventures that died in infancy, or were aborted before even taking a breath.  And then other thins spring out of the blue; some of the best things that have ever happened to me had nothing whatsoever to do with my conscious wishes or motivations.  And I know, I know, I know.  Someone will answer me with something along the lines of 'what you put out in the universe' and my mother would say 'mysterious ways' or something about doors and windows and yadda yadda yadda.

I just know that lately, with the positive thinking, it feels a bit more like willful delusion than anything healthy or productive.  I guess the old saying may hold truest:  Everything in moderation.  I will endeavor to be more positive, less of a sourpuss or a grumpy gus.  I will do my best to stop myself from outright negativity, try to examine my attitude and adjust as necessary.  But I'm going to focus my energy on living my life, experienceing my emotions as they come to me, celebrate that I'm a bit of a bitch, own that I am moody, accept that I will not always be sunny and sweet, and love the woman that I am.  Stop trying to reinvent myself; rather, embrace the person that I've been whipping and abusing, and degrading all these years.  No wonder the poor thing has anger issues and cowers at a raised hand--she's been abused!  I will try to rescue her, show her consistency and love and support.  She's not a bad dog, just misunderstood.  Just some bad habits. 

BORED at Work

Well.

hi.

I'm at work.  Computer lab time.

A1S1 was a minor disaster today, and I had some of my major players not show up, and we had to work in a completely useless space, and the kids were off the wall.  I heart them, I do, and I want their show to be fabulous, but...

yeah.

Bright spot: I get to babysit the dazzling Miss Z tonight!  And Danielle bribes me to do this by buying me Chatta for dinner!  Lol.  I tell her all the time that there is no bribery necessary, especially when Z is as adorable as she is.  But.  Knowing I'm having Chatta for dinner does dispel some of my cloudy mood.
As, of course, does knowing I'll be seeing my Bestie and her lil bean.

So.  The writing.  Harumph.  I had this burst of a breakthrough a little while ago, but it has since retreated.  I don't know.  I really believe I turned off a fundamental switch inside of me when I decided it was only for recreation.  It really felt like a fucking kill switch.  Which doesn't make much sense, really, because I only started writing Cedar Falls as recreation in the first place.

Feels like a relationship.  We swore it'd just be 'for fun', then it got a little serious, a little more serious for one of us, feeling got involved, I started imagining a future, and then WHAM.  Nope.  Not gunna happen.  Can we go back to being friends?

I'm giving it the old college try, but nothing is how it was.  I read a vignette or more EVERY SINGLE DAY hoping it'll spark something.  But.  Nah.  I enjoy reading them, I enjoy thinking about them, but I fear the magic is permanently disabled.

But.  Admittedly, I am burnt out.  I really needed a vacation after a very long year, and I haven't had that vacation yet.  And what little snippits of vacation-esque time I do wrest from the clutches of a soul-sucking summer, well, I treasure those moments that I can spend with my husband, or with friends, or family, relaxing, bonding, and most definitely not immersed in my head or in Cedar Falls.

But I miss it.  I miss sitting down and just writing.  I wish I'd never been so awfully critical of it.  I wish i'd never tried to define it or make it something it wasn't.

This post is going to be interminable because I need it to be.

The other goal, besides writing, that I have this summer will be the apartment renovations.  Big plans.  Lotta work.  And then?  LESSON PLANNING!  I am beginning to recognize that I may need to go ahead and lesson plan BEFORE the apartment transformation is complete.  But Aaron was to be building me this fabulous desk, all of my very own, for the purposes of lesson planning and school teachering.  Can you see my shoulders shrugging?

We regret that we did not really get to have guests\friends over this summer, but, alas.  maybe.  Maybe we'll pull it all together in time for, like, a labor day party or something!

Alright.  I actually need to stop now, else I will just keep blathering on. times infinity.

Things I love today:
Aaron
Summer
Chatta for Dinner
Z!
Trueblood yummmm
Strawberry smoothie from Panera
Not being at the Pawsox ;)
My pocketbook (it's great)
Air conditioning
The fresh fruit smoothie waiting for me in my fridge
My freckles!
That I only have about 2 and a half hours left in my workday :)

Some people

There are certain people that just get right under my skin.  No matter how hard I try to be calm, relax, shrug, and let their antics roll over me--no matter what I try to tell myself, they drive me up the fucking wall.

For example, my niece, whom I am supposed to love to pieces, drives me out of my skin sometimes.  She is so fucking frustrating.  Lazy, unmotivated, completely uninspired, ungrateful, selfish, self-centered, unappealing. 
Now here's the thing; I also have a nephew I don't care for, but for some reason, though I basically would never interact with him unless completely necessary by virtue of being my sister's son, I don't really care that I dislike him.  But with the niece?  GRRRRR!!!  It's like I can't even enjoy being around her, no matter how hard I try.  I feel like there's always something new to criticize, some new flaw that irks me, some previously undiscovered trait that just rubs me the wrong way!

I hate this about me, and feel guilty, because it has obviously affected my relationship with her.  It's like she's sitting on all this potential to be an amazing person, sitting on it because she'd too lazy and unmotivated to do anything great.

I think I despise her because it's like watching myself make all the same mistakes (and more!) for a second time, and being powerless to stop it.

So naturally I wonder if I will feel such disgust with any of my potential future progeny. 

There are others.  That get to me.  That I look at and shake my head and want to scream at, and that make me grit my teeth and GRRRR and shriek with frustration.

What I need to work on is somehow masking my contempt.  Since nothing in the wa of 'Relax' mantras is even making a dent in my irrational private rage!

In other news, I made such a delicious smoothie yesterday with blueberries from a farmer's market!  Hooray!

And Most of the kids were pretty jazzed about the Orange Script.  I have, essentially and hour and a half to direct it.  Ha.  Wish me all the luck in the world!

They are great kids.

I just finished writing an orange script.  Tomorrow begins the harder part; directing an orange script and making it amazingness.

Let's hope the script goes over well.  Please, please, please, PLEASE let them be fast learners, enthusiastic participants, and creative geniuses!

We're bringing orange back!

Rollercoasters and Orangesauce

Rollercoasters like you wouldn't believe!  Soaring highs, crushing lows, butterflies in the tummy, nausea, terror, begging, pleading, screaming, exhilaration, all of it.

Thank you to everyone who loves me through it all; I, of course, feel as though I deserve it, feel unworthy.  But I am unendingly grateful for your love and support, your patience and your willingness to take the considerable bad with the comparatively slim good these days.

Thank you.  Thank you for being there, being present, being an ear or a shoulder, or a hand to hold, or sound advice that I may or may not have heeded...

I have decided to do one visual post a week!  yay for you!  Any preferences for which day of the week should be the pictorial blog?  Lemme know.

This weekend I must write a play about the color orange!  woot!


The children will be singing popular songs with the words re-vamped and re-imagined!  They are singing Forget You, The fresh prince of BelAir theme song, and Sexyback, or, rather, Orangeback...lol.

I'm bringing orange back

You other colors don't know how to act

I think I'm special I'm the hue you lack,

Let's get together and get back on track...

Go 'head get orange with it...

Lol.  Story is about the color Orange, who feels like he is not getting enough of the spotlight in the rainbow, and, feeling under appreciated decides to quit the rainbow.  Eventually, in his own colony of all orange, the next generation feels bored by the monocromatic existence and yearn to strike out on their own, explore, and search for other colors. 

Should be fun, right?  lols.

On the West side of the rainbow, born and raised, in the autumn is where I spend most of my days;

Chillin' out, maxin, relaxin all cool, looking like a b-ball outside of the school

But all the other colors said I was no good, started makin trouble in my neighborhood;

It came down to one night, it just wasn't fair-

I said: I'm leavin color town and I just don't care!

Yeah.  The kids especially liked the Forget You Song.  I think I might add The Lazy Song in too..

Today I don't feel like doin orange things.....

They will be awesomesauce.  or, maybe Orangesauce?!?!?

I seen you ridin' 'round town with your reds and blues and I'm like, Forget you!

Well I'm not green, I'm not yellow, guess I'm not good enough.  

I'm like, Forget You, and forget your hues!

I said I I was lilac, you wouldn't be like that-- Ain't that some Shhhhhh!

Lol.  The hardest part to rewright was this one:

Yeah I'm sorry!  I'm Not Primary,  But I'm still on the color wheel...

Heeheeehee.

Orange Sauce!

Wally World

I was so looking forward to this summer.

Things fell through.

I'm lucky to even have summer employment.  But.  Honestly?  It fucking sucks goat ass.

It's hot and smelly and unrewarding.

I realize I will have to make an attitude adjustment to make it work, I get it, I know.  Jesus fucking Christ, do I know.  It's all in my perspective, it's all my point of view, change your attitude, change your life.  Be aware of what you put out iun the universe.  blah blah fucking blah.

It's christing hot, ok?  And boring.  And I wish I had some kind of summer job where I could just sit in an air conditioned cubicle or some shit.

Aaron and I are so tired and sapped when we come home that nothing, not a fucking thing, is getting done with this goddamn unholy mess of an apartment.

And I'm uber irritable (No! You don't say!  You?  Irritable? Nah....), and I'm unsatisfied, and I'm frustrated, and I think I really needed a fucking vacation.

C'est la vie.  I am looking at the next thirty years, THIRTY FUCKING YEARS of my life and reconciling myself to working in a career that is not my passion, spending myself and my energy, wasting years and years worth of precious days and hours, paying bills, holding back, withering away.

Christ.

I either need a stiff drink, or a long vacation, or a long, stiff cock.

All three, please.

I need help.

boy, do I.


In other news, True Blood was adorably delicious this week, don't you think?



........


Off to fucking work.

Renovations!

This will read as monday, but it is really still sunday night for me.

I woke up this morning, discouraged by all the cleaning still left to do, and a funny thing happened.

I picked up my netty and wrote.

I haven't written in months.

The characters are in my head, swirling constantly, evolving, having scenes, making choices... but I haven't been capturing any of it.  Haven't been able to, for whatever reason.

This  morning, out of the blue, I was able to type away, telling part of Nolan's story.

It isn't great, but it isn't utter shit either.  I'd say it's right on par with the main body of the Cedar Falls stuff.

Amen, right?

Best part is that I'm thinking this will lead t more... crossing my fingers.

Meanwhile, I stuill have oodles of CF yet to share with you, so get ready for your monthly installment.  Did you read all the June ones? 

July promises to be tons of fun.  I'll let you know when I update.

Didn't actually do any cleaning today, btw.  The house is still a fucking disaster.  But we have big plans.  HUGE.  You won't even believe the transformation when all is said and done... IF all gets said and done.

Don't get too excited; our plans for apartment re-design do NOT include a nursery.  The jury's still out on that one, but it isn't looking too favorable, I gotta say.

Aaron says NO DECISIONS are to be made on the subject, and that any decisions I do make or have made are invalid, inconsequential, and ridiculous. 

I just wish my decision to not have children didn't make me feel so nihilistic.  I thought it would be freeing and inspire me to live my life more fully, but really it fills me with a sort of malaise, a wash of 'meh' about everything--which I can't decide if it is better than the extreme depression I was feeling about not already having children and still having no hope of being ready enough to have children any time soon...

Jury's still out.

I'll be sure to keep you clued in when I know anything.

AND I'll keep you posted on the apartment improvements!

On the to do list:

Bookshelf that is really a secret door with a secret closet!
Amazing kitchen Island that contains a secret desk for all my teacher-y needs and wants!
Incredibly awesome Tetris inspired wall shelves for the enormous focus wall!
Paint, paint, paint, paint!  Color, color, color, color!
A craft room with craft platform space!
A newly upholstered couch & amazing tetris inspired accent pillows!
Big old re-arrange and re-purposing!

Holy god, can someone make the summer a few months longer, please?

Today

Today I bought a carton of farm fresh blueberries at a farmer's market.

Cheered some kids on in kickball

Worshiped my husband orally

And, oh yeah, signed a contract.

:)

Now I'm chillin, naked on the couch, eating cereal, and getting ready to watch deadwood.

Happy weekend.  I'mma be very, very busy.

Ciao!

Bloggy Onanism

I spend a considerable amount of time worrying.

I spend a great deal of energy on feeling jealous, envious, and dissatisfied.

I spend hours upon hours doubting, disbelieving, denegrating, and devaluing myself.

That's alot of spending.  Is it any wonder I'm in the red, spiritually? 

It looks like I'll seriously need to start investing somehow, in my soul, in my self worth, in my emotional well-being.

But how?  Habits are so damned hard to break, aren't they?

Even as I write this there are a dozen niggling little negative thoughts creeping, and sneaking, and clamboring to break down my will and my wishes. 

And I try to shrug the negativity off, I try to dismiss it, make it vanish.  Who cares what other people are doing?  Who cares how seemingly happy and contented they are?  Who cares what other people will say when they look at my life and my choices?  Other people are not the rubric against which I should be measuring my life.  Other people's successes and failures are neither affirmation nor condemnation of my life choices.

If I don't want children, that is fine; so long as I've made the decision in a healthy, open-minded, positive state of being.  (As opposed to my glum, sour, suicidal state of being yesterday, wherein I watched a young mother bent over picking up toys from the yard and I decided: "Fuck that.  I don't want to spend the rest of my life picking up after some useless, needy, selfish, oblivious, ungrateful little fucking parasites.  I'm NEVER HAVING KIDS!"  That, wouldn't you agree, seems like perhaps an extreme reaction, and a severely jaded view of the circle of life.  HOWEVER, it is fair to weigh my very real distatste for cleaning up after other people, my passionate dislike for cleaning AT ALL, and my intolerance for ingrates, against the reality of child rearing.  It just may be that I really am not that's going to do well in the thankless job of parenting.)

If those whom I have loved move on and flourish, I should either A) be happy for them, and wish them all success and happiness (doesn't that sound magnanimous?)
or B) stop giving a flying fuck what they're up to, who they're fucking, who they're lavishing their love and affection on now, or why they do the things they do, say the things they say, or choose to interact with me they way they do.  Guess what?  It is NOT MY LIFE.  I cannot control the actions or words of others, I can only control my reaction\response to it.  I must work on taking any news in, processing it privately (without torturing myself, without attaching blame or judgment, without oscillating between calling myself a stupid cunt or them all manner of awful spithets, and without regretting I ever knew them!!), and then move the fuck forward, because nothing I say or do will matter in the least.  They are living their life, and I must live mine.
(Incidentally, this is another good reason not to have children.  I believe it is a child's function to break your heart, frustrate you to tears, ignore sound advice, and then eventually leave you and move on with their life.  Ok, that was rather pessimistic in some respects, but honestly?  Are all the cute icecream parties worth it in the end if Litte Reardon decides to become a meth addict, or a republican, or just an all-out bitch?  No thanks.)


If I choose to do the off-beat thing, I must have the courage of my convictions, the fortitude, the balls, and the sticktoitiveness to make my own success---or die trying.  Ok, the end bit was fairly dramatic, but you get what I mean.  People will pass judgment.  They will say things.  They will make assumptions, they may pity me (a peeve of mine), they may predict my failure and my doom.  Who knows, and who cares.  I must STOP caring about their opinions and their views.  My choices are not theirs, and I am the only one who will have to live with the end result. 

Whatever.  If I want a salad from the stop n shop salad bar for lunch, I have to leave early for work; and I DO want a salad from the stop n shop salad bar, so I'mma need to end my blog post here. 

Bloggus Interruptus.  Was it good for you?  Probably not, right? but I got something out of it! lolz.

Alex Kittner, They're beginning to prune!

Did everyone have a nice weekend?

I did.

Friends, family, dinosaurs, sexcapades, videogames, and the like.

And the summer for me is now in full swing as both my jobs are now up and running, leaving me exhaustedpants by 4pm!


My husband is going to take me to dinner in a little bit. Even though he ate out last night ;)  heeeheeeeheeee.

I'm a lucky girl.  Very, very lucky.

Happy July!

Independence

Throw your hands up at me....

This Independence day weekend I am struggling with how utterly un-independent I seem to be.  I've been struggling with it for several months, actually, as some of my big projects coincided with some of Aaron's big projects and I came to understand how disgustingly codependent I had become over the last few years, what a needy, helpless creature I'd devolved into!

I had\have become this almost infantile little hanger-on waiting around for mister genius jack-of-all-trades to take care of all my problems and issues for me wherever and whenever humanly possible.  Seriously. 

And so, as my productions were going up and I had a list of props and things a mile long, on which I had noted 'Aaron can do this' beside nearly every single item, I had to frown, shake my head and take a hard look at what the fuck I was doing to myself and to Aaron.

Is it true that the man can do almost anything?  Yes.  Is it true that almost everything he does turns out awesomesauce and stunning and has an amazing wow-factor?  Yes and yes.  Is it true that people are constantly impressed, amazed, awe-inspired and staggered by how handy\creative\dependable\visionary\ingenious\inventive\clever\crafty\problem-solve-y\knowledgeable\skilled\efficient\relaibly amazing the guy is?  Fuck yes, that is gospel.

However, this is not the law of exclusivity.  Just because he IS amazing, doesn't necessarily mean that I am NOT amazing.  But I had begun to believe this with every fibre of my being.  It was as if: "Why bother?  I can't do it as well as Aaron, so..."  *shrug*

This happened with our failed start-up company too.  Suddenly, because of his wide-ranging skill set and expertise, Aaron was the go-to guy for fucking everything and I think it made the rest of us sort of lazy, or at least less motivated, less spectacularly motivated than we should have been for a band of scrappy start-ups.  He busted his ass and dis amazing work, and .... well... he's good, but he isn't a miracle worker, and he can't carry everything on those broad shoulders of his.  And our dream?  It looked real great on the website he designed and built, it looked fabulous on the posters he designed and found a printer for, it looked so professional and promising in the brochures he developed and found a printer for!  But in the end it was a miscarriage and all we have left is Aaron's incredible work.

So it came time to do my shows and Aaron is illustrating a book, and Aaron is building a goddamned life-size velociraptor (I promise I'll get pictures up at some point- the thing is fucking fabulous), and Aaron is still doing things for STAGE, and aaron is real fucking busy, and while he says he'll help, it is easily apparent to me that the man is stretched too thin (if he were a normal human like the rest of us, he would have been well past the snapping point, but for my super-hero husband? nah, just stretched a lil too thin...), ans there literally aren't enough hours in the day for him to accomplish everything he needs to get done AND eat, sleep, breathe and survive, and so I say:  Forget it, I'll do it myself (but not in a bitchy way; I said it in a falsely brave, go-get-em voice...)

I was daunted.  I was depressed.  I was dreading the tasks, and I took a moment to examine this state of mind\being.  And I said to myself:

Um, what the fuck is your fucking problem?

Uh, pardon?  Excuse me, I don't know what--

Shut the fuck up, you pathetic bitch and take a good look at your sad-sack self, will you?

Wh-wh-wh-whaaaat?!?!?

You heard me! 

Well, gimme a breakm this is hard work!  I don't think I can do it!

Oh give me a fucking break!

I'm serious!

You're a serious fuckface.

Fuckface? *snicker*

You think it's fucking funny that you've devolved into a goddamned parasite?

Ouch.

Yeah.

That's a bit harsh--

It is the goddamned truth.  Look;  You are a grown woman, you are a very SMART woman, you are exceedingly CLEVER, you are, believe it or not, quite a CAPABLE individual--

But...

You hold a goddamned ADVANCED DEGREE is this bullshit!!!!  Are you seriously telling me that you can't suck it up, grab yourself a fucking hot-glue-gun, and make some goddamn children's theatre props?

. . . . . .

Yeah, I fucking thought not.  Now, stop feeling sorry for yourself and wishing you could be someone else, and get your goddamned cunting act together and make some children's theatre props.  

Oh-kayyy....

And while you're at it?  take a long, hard look at your life and ask yourself what kind of person you want to be.  

I--

How many times do you ask favors of him?

But--

How many tasks do you insist he perform when you are equally capable of accomplishing the task?

But he does it better!

Oh-the-fuck-well!  So he does it better, oh well.  It doesn't mean he  has to do EVERYTHING and you don't do ANYTHING.  That's one sure way to fuck up your marage permanently, don't you see that?

I...

He fell in love with you once upon a time because you were so fucking awesome it knocked his socks off! You were fierce, you were fearless, you were all-or-nothing and you just fucking DID things!  remember that girl?

Not really.

Exactly.  Wake the fuck up, get off your fucking ass, stop standing in someone's goddamned shadow (you should damn well know better than to let anyone block your light, bitch!), and make yourself an equal goddamned partner in this thing!  And get those fucking props done, there are kids counting on you!  They aren't counting on Aaron, they're counting on YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So.  Yeah.  I made some fabulous props for three separate shows, and while I am sure Aaron could have made them better or more functional or whatever, I must say that the props I conjured up were really goddamn great.  And he was so fucking busy that he wasn't even able to come to two of my shows-- he never even got to see some of my props in action.  And I went to the shows alone, no one there for me, and guess what?  I survived.  I did well.  I didn't crumple into a mess of insecurities.  Shockingly.


Recently I have been panicked about the notion that I might have the very real high-stakes responsibility of teaching students a real subject like english (as opposed to the periphery subject of theatre\drama\acting, where no one really knows what you're doing and so no one really looks to hear or holds you to any measurable standards-- they just smile vaguely and attend the shows once in a while and say 'break a leg' but walk away mystified and proud of themselves for supporting arts education.), and Aaron keeps saying:

"I'll help you!  Whatever you need, I will help you, we can do this!"

Which is incredibly supportive.

And feels fundamentally wrong to me.

"You can't help me, not with everything!"  I tell him.  "I somehow have to be able to do this myself!"

He assures me I will, he insists that he can and will help, and when I complain about my relative uselessness he argues that I help him all the time.  But honestly?  the examples he provides make me feel like a little kid who 'helped' her dad fis the diswasher or something.  Like, I made sure the nuts and bolts didn't get lost, o r I handed him the right screwdriver, or I held the flashlight at the right angle while he actually did the real work that requires brains and know-how and skill and all that jazz.

I love him.  More than life, more than anything, more (much, much more) than myself.

But if I want him to continue to love me for the long haul?  I gotta get my act together.  I have to build up my once strongly independent muscles.  This was the girl who lived in NYC without him.  WHo traveled the country without him.  Who was perfectly capable of using all kinds of powertools without him.  Who could build things, assemble things, research things, and create things without him.  With his love and support, but ultimately on my own. 

I like having a partner.  I don't want to make him my dad-- you know?

I need to dust off my old tools, my old attitude, my old self-reliance.  Balance the scales a little bit.  Be an active contributor.  An equal partner, with assets and value.

I mean, how long's he gunna keep me around just for the sex? It may have gotten me this far, but you never know quite when the sand'll run outta that hourglass, right ladies? ;)

He puts up with a hell of a lot.  I just wanna take some of the burden off the poor fella. 

And I want to be able to stand alone, when all is said and done, and have some accomplishments that are my own, incomparable achievements.  I want to thank him in the credits, instead of have him srite the thing for me.

I want to be the woman he fell in love with.

I want to be the woman that you couldn't resist, not for anything!

Cuz I depend on me!

Girl I didn't know you could get down like that....

Little Girls

Please read this very insightful article.

Knock on wood

Had a really good interview today.  Thanks for all the love and support.  Fingers are crossed in all sorts of directions, and I wonder if I'll have to make some tough decisions in the coming weeks.  I hope so, even though I am a libra and notoriously awful at either\or scenarios, this is one problem I'd be grateful to have to face.  After more than a year of unemployment\underemployment, please, please, please let me have to make some tough choices!!



My mother took me shopping on the government's dime yesterday and now my cup runneth over.  Every time I'd choose an item and put it in the carriage she would insist "Get Two!"  Or sometimes four or more.  I almost had a heart attack just looking at how full the carriage was.  She is a saint, and thanks to some earlier miscalculations on Uncle Sam's part, she now has this wonderful surplus of money to spend.  And she chose to make sure Aaron and I were taken care of for the summer, which is a blessing and a half.  Thank you mum!

The playdate yesterday was fun times too.  It is a bit strange being at a playdate with no offspring of one's own, but I love the ladies, and I love all my nieces, and it was fun!

Gotta run, having a gmaenight tonight and my sister-in-law's always fabulous vegetarian cooking.  Bless that woman, she never just throws a salad on the table and says: that's vegetarian!  She tries new recipes, she experiments, she re-makes the classics without meat.  I wonder what we'll have today?!?!?

Love!