eRamblings

It’s been what seems like months since I have seen my niece. I finally got to see her at her Chello concert, the last of the year. She has come a long way. Been playing for about six months now. When the teacher leaves the room to help the violinists, she teaches the other chello students. I am so proud of her. She really sounded great. And she was so confident.

She had on a new dress and really cute shoes that she was incredibly excited about.

Me and my girl. Best hugger in the world. I was able to give her the scrapbook acrylic key chain I made her at the scrapbook retreat. She put  it on her backpack. What a sweet heart.

Six-Word Memoir book preview from SMITHmag on Vimeo.

Mine - “The ultimate life pursuit? To Zen.”

another random one that came to me - “Life suck sometimes. Get over it.”

What’s your six word memoir?

(via CathieZielske)

I went over to my husband’s house last night and brought a steak with me. Okay so let me explain bringing my own meat to dinner before getting into the actual story.

I went to the grocery store the other day because I feel vomit come up in my throat when I consider having another week like the last one. The things I ate last week could have (should have) killed me. And I refuse to do it again. So I went to the store to buy some real food. I picked up a the meat counter one pinewheel (steak wrapped around spinach and stufing), a huge ass Angus steak and a burger. All fresh. All looked good enough to eat raw. Let’s ignore the fact that I felt like a total LOSER (with a capital L) while ordering 1 of each thing. I’ll have ONE of thse. Yes, I am cooking for myself. And ONE of those. Yes, I am all alone. And ONE of those. Yes, LOSER. Which brings me to my story, I didn’t have enough for more than me (well, and some leftovers). So I told my husband that I would bring over a steak which would be enough for the two of us, just not the kid. He offered to swing by and grab another steak just in case I didn’t have enough.

I went over to his house. I pulled out the wine from the last time I was there and poured us both a glass. Then we proceeded to season and prepare the potatoes for grilling. And by we, I mean he did it all. I supervised and drank my wine. (I am nice like that) As the steak and potatoes were just about done, the kid came in and told me he was not eating with us and would be eating at the neighbors tonight. Hmm, bummer we didn’t need the extra meat afterall. Whatever, more leftovers for us. So we ended up having a very cozy dinner - 1 on 1. We laughed, we talked, we smoozed, we basically had a really good time throughout dinner. And somewhere between the after dinner kissing and the wine I drank, I became a little distant and ended up turning into kind of an ass.

You see we are back to “dating”, I guess. Being separated is weird (for me anyway) because I am with the man I married and lived with for two years. Now I am not living with him, but still feeling the feelings of love and adoration. These feelings may be new because we aren’t fighting like we used to. thank god. But for me, he is still the man I love and continue to love. He is still the man I would like to be with. For him, he is concerned because he has no idea if we will work or not. What happens if we go back to fighting. To him, time will tell. (fucker - kidding)

I am happy. Things are peaceful. We are doing remarkably well. I understand his reservations, but quite frankly I would like some sort of tangible evidence that we aren’t just making each other feel better (and not lonely). I would like to know I am not his rebound girl (so to speak) while he figures out how he feels.

I am trying not to ask for anything in this so called relationship, but it is very hard to just go on “whatever happens happens”. He tells me he cares for me. That should be enough, shouldn’t it?

I want more.

I am just an asshole like that.

I don’t think I ruined the evening, but I couldn’t seem to switch off the feelings I had overtake me. I didn’t push him, but I couldn’t seem to get back to just letting go. After talking for awhile about odd things. He finally gave up the chitchat and focused in on what I truly wanted from him, but he did not answer me. I respect that. I asked him to just let it go, but the tension was there. Knowing I wanted more and yet he couldn’t give it. I finally just said goodbye and ended the evening. The goodbye kiss he gave me was filled with (what I feel was) relief, but for a man who doesn’t share his feelings easily I don’t really know. I was fine with leaving, in fact,I was pretty tired.

It is a struggle, this relationship. It takes everything I have to push my feet forward and out the door at night. I would love to just lie next to him, to wake up to him, to share a lazy day with him. But if I stay, I wouldn’t want to leave. So I go. I miss him during the day. I love that he calls me almost daily to talk - knowing how hard it is for him to share.

And to be frank this time alone has been good for me. For the first time in ages, I am learning to go to bed and sleep, not stay awake confounded by all the things that fill me with anxiety. I am learning to comfort myself and I am learning to be a better, all around happier person. I am learning to regulate my anxiety and breath. I like who I am becoming.

I try to be content with the way things are going and most of the time it is good. I am fine with it all. But sometimes, like last night, the emotional troll overtakes me and I am struggling not to unleash the emotional baggage that used to fill me; that which I am learning to let go. I am pretty darn proud of how well I contained my emtions, but at the same time I did ruin what could have (should have) been a very relaxing evening.

Bummer.

I am not stressing over it. I am not worried about it. I know that my husband has probably already forgotten about it. It was just a night, an evening spent in the company of two people who are waiting, as my husband so eloquently puts it, for time to tell.

I have finally given in and decided to buy a couch/love seat/sofa (whatever you call it).

I rarely even sit in my living room anymore and if I do, it just doesn’t last long. Don’t get me wrong, my lazy boy and papazan are really comfy. NOT! I would love to just lounge. I am just a lounger, y’know?

So I have been paroosing the craigslist.org to see if there are any worth buying. My mom doesn’t want me to buy used. She thinks it is weird because you never know what kind of lifestyle they lead, where they have been storing the thing (I got bed bugs (eww) when we pulled a foam pad out of the garage way back when) and she would just rather I buy new. And I am thinking I can always cover the dang thing with a sheet or slip cover.

But since I am on a budget, there is this thing I like to consider - money - the difference between $100 and $400+ for a couch. Tomorrow I will be looking at the stores in the area for a good looking couch (b/c I do have my rep to think of), a financial deal (no interest til 2021) and I am hoping they will deliver, but begars can’t be choosers.

It’s funny if I buy used I don’t care too much what color it is, but I would like a fairly good condition. If I buy new, I do care what color it is and all that.

What is your take on used or new?

Yup, that is the new name of this recipe. I am SO excited to try this . . . . with a few of my own modifications.

I SOOO love the apple turnovers that I used to get at the gas station (yes, gas station - you know the really cool place for food purchasing) when going on a car trip. It has been forever since I had one so I can’t tell you who makes them, just that they were like 65¢ (which tells you how healthy they probably are) the last time I bought them. And they were OH SO GOOD!!!

In honor of the fact that I could care less that I am trying to eat healthier, I am SO making these. But I plan to sub the jam/jelly for PIE FILLING!!!

OMG!!! Pie filling - apple pie or blueberry pie or cherry pie - YUM!!!

The cool thing about making stuff like this is, I don’t have to eat it myself. I can make it and then share it -

with other people making them fat not me. But then again ONE little, teneey, tiny apple pie turnover will not make you fat, right?

(via Notesfromthetrenches.com)

I get the people that go into a store and proceed to proclaim “I can’t believe they charge $50 for THAT. I can make that!”

I get the people who are having a bad day and coincidentally are in a bad mood and may take it out on me.

I get the people who have a budget and get frustrated when what they want is more expensive.

What I do not get are the out and out RUDE PEOPLE who regardless of the fact that they are blatantly being MEAN continue to talk to you as if you are an imbecile and don’t get that their comments are so OUT OF LINE when they can pick their ass up out of my chair and go somewhere else. It is America people. You don’t have to shop with me. In fact, if you are rude I don’t want your business.

For the first time in a very long time, I wanted to reach across the counter and strangle a customer today. She was so rude it actually stunned me. And working in retail for over 10 years, not a lot stuns me anymore. She didn’t insult my shop, my product- she insulted my mother - personally. She out and out continued (like word vomit) to look directly at my mother and tell her that someone she knows could have done this, done a much better job, perfection really and would have done it for free . . and she went on to tell my mother what a shitty job she did, while her daughters (who are in their 30’s) sat there not saying a word, but looking a bit horrified by her statements. I can’t even remember her exact words, but dear god this woman had to have known what she was saying. Either that or she had no idea and is just rude like this with everyone.

I kept looking from my mother to this woman wondering what my mother would say in response. Instead she sat there in complete silence. I swear I could see her eyebrow twitching. Usually my mother has some brilliant retort that neither degrades the customer nor upsets them, but makes them realize just how they sound. I don’t know how she does it. She is a master. But she said not a word.

After the customer left, my mother said that she was so shocked that she didn’t say anything. Plus she realized that the woman would not have cared what my mother said. And she was confident that her daughters (who were the real customers, not her mother) knew she had done a good job and were as stunned as she was.

What is up with people being rude????

I have people come in looking for something and if I don’t have it, they look me in the eye and say, “Well I guess I will have to go (insert store)!” Like it is my fault I don’t sell something. WTH!!

And heaven forbid the person needs directions and I don’t know exactly where the place is - what am I a fucking concierge??

Really!

Have you every pulled on a pair of pants that are just a bit snug, so you tuck in the pockets - all four of the pockets - in hopes that they will give just a bit more room?

I did.

This morning.

And it gave just enough for me to be happy and move about my day.

(sigh)

This is DEFINITELY going to be a good day.

I have a pair of pants that I found at Old Navy years ago. They have the coolest belt, these pockets that make my ass look incredible and a nice clean look that requires no ironing, fluffing or straightening of any kind. Love at first sight (in the dressing room mirror that is). I bought all the colors they had. Four pairs.

Unfortunately a year or so ago, I gained just enough weight that I wasn’t comfortable in them.

Until today.

Actually if I had to be honest, I would love for them to be even a tad looser (I know, just be happy right? nope) because I love when my pants hang just off my hips. They don’t grasp my stomach, they don’t cover my belly button, they just hang off that hip bone nice and loose, but weighted, y’know? I think I like them this way for a couple of reasons. One, being I have this thing my father so eloquently calls a tramp stamp on my lower back which I love and just don’t have near enough clothes to show it off. Two, being I have never been a girl that owned and wore pants that buttoned above my belly - generation Y. I was a couple of generations after the lay on the bed and pull up the zipper with pliers. I am just after the generation that wore their pants way above the waist almost to touching the chest area. And I am just before the generation that wears their pants around their ankles which requires some serious pant maneuvering before bending down or I guess wearing some sexy underwear above the pants so your underwear already shows long before bending.

Which generation are you?

Yesterday, my husband and stepson picked me up and we drove over to the dollar store and bought kites. Then we went to Mervyns to shop for clothes for them, but neither of them was really in the mood for that. Then they hit Inn & Out Burger. And FINALLY  we went to the park to fly the kites.  (and no I don’t have pictures and yes I am kicking myself for not bringing my camera)

We put together each of the kites - code for my husband put together each of them because the one I put together I put together wrong. lol When we finally had all our kites up in the air, the breeze was blowing, the park was quiet and peaceful and we were all just enjoying the moment, my stepson says, “Dad? I’m bored.”

I laughed so hard I thought I was going to pee my pants. How classic parenting/kid is this moment? We are all in our zone and the kid is immediately bored. To liven up the whole thing, my husband got this wild idea to put one kite on top of the other kite, so that he is flying two kites at once, but the first kite is hooked on to the second kite he is flying - all in a row. Then he wanted to add another, then another. He had four flying all in a row, hooked to each other drawn out in this really long line of string. At one point I thought they were gonners because he got hooked on the park lights, but the classic luck my husband has pulled through and they got unstuck. My husband said it wasn’t luck, but skill. lol

I was loving just sitting in the grass, flying a kite on a beautiful day. It took everything I had to give up my kite and hand it over to add to the pack of kites the boys were flying. But they were having so much fun and my husband (i knew) wanted to see how many kites he could fly together. So I gave it up in the interest of science and testosterone induced ego.

One minute I was sitting back down on the grass and the next minute my stepson is yelling at me, frantic. When I look up my husband is hustling his ass down the soccer field as fast as he could go. Running, running, running and in the final moments jumping into the branches of a tree, but unfortunately not quick enough.  All four kites, attached to each other, flew away into the distance. He said the kite was just inches from his fingers the entire time he was running. I told him, someone higher was laughing at that one.

I was so impressed with how fast my husband ran. Really impressed, slightly turned on. I have never seen him run that fast. I didn’t know he had it in him.

We came back and watched a movie for a little while.

All in all, a very good peaceful day together.

Okay so my scrapbook retreat was AWESOME!!!!

Every time I go back to scrapbooking I remember just why I love it so much.

I get caught up in everyday life and forget to stop and cut and paste some stuff. Who doesn’t feel like a kid when cutting, pasting, hole punching, tying ribbons??? I learned a lot and more importantly I had SO MUCH FUN!!!

I want to give a shout out to Tami Potter, inventor of Photo Mosaics entire scrappin process. She taught me how to use 4×6 photos to make beautiful layouts. AND SHE GAVE AWAY FREE COPIES OF HER BOOK to the entire class and she signed them too!!

I also met Elizabeth Kartchner who is pregnant with her 2nd girl and totally sweet.

I love that I was in the presence of inventors of a flugalbinder (from Cocktail movie). These are people who have taken something and made it all their own and are now a success. WOOT!

I was able to begin a father day gift, a mother’s day gift and finish a gift for my niece and began about five projects for me to work on. And since I still have things left I never finished the last two times I did this, I need to go back and work on those too. lol

I could not contain my excitement. I could not sit still in my seat. I wanted to jump up and down and yell, “YEAH I AM HERE!! I AM HAVING SO MUCH FUN! WHO’S WITH ME??” But I did not do this because I think they might have thrown me out. A few “WOHOO”s escaped though. I love the give aways. I love that I can look at my neighbor and we can have a conversation about whatever. People smile as they walk by (if they aren’t milling through their bags, oogling all the stuff they have made or bought) and it is just an energy of wonderful creativity. I love that if you don’t have a particular supply they will lend it to you and share. I love that if you get behind in a class, they will help you and show you their design. I love that scrapbookers don’t cut in line (well, most of them don’t). I love that scrapbookers have this way about following the basic laws of niceness. They are all kind and have no problems talking to people they don’t know. They don’t have a problem stopping someone in the hall and asking where they got a particular item or how they liked their class. They will pull out a page and tell you where they got the inspiration, how they took the photo, what kind of pen they used to journal, etc. I LOVE THIS. Because I always want to help out other people and I love talking about why I did a particular thing on a LO (layout). And all scrapbookers do this. They will even let you play with their camera to check out the zoom, etc. If that isn’t nice, I don’t know what is.

I just fit in with these people. And they were from all over - MN, OH, OR, AZ. You name it. So much fun.