I'd really rather not visit my husband's family in Michigan during winter, I thought to myself. We'll catch pneumonia!
My wheels started spinning as I tried to figure a way to go and visit family, (who we'd like to see before their toddlers are all grown up), yet without having to take our spoiled, warm-weather-loving North Carolina selves Up North during winter.
And that's when I saw it... Nickelback! One of our favorite bands! Playing at the Joe Louis Arena! In Detroit! Twenty minutes away from my husband's family! In mid-September, when it is neither freezing nor blazing hot in Michigan! And immediately following both of our birthdays, thus justifying spending the money to visit family and see a concert!
We just got back from Michigan. Where we saw family (adorable toddlers, nice in-laws, great food), the weather was nice and autumn-like (65 degrees, crisp, and an opportunity to try on jeans I haven't worn since last March), and the Nickelback concert was excellent (great seats, very loud, and the band sounds just as good live as on their CD's).
Unfortunately, I did not enjoy these things nearly as much as I should have. Why? Because somehow, the mild head cold I had before leaving managed to turn into (literally!) full-fledged pneumonia along the way... Resulting in two trips to Urgent Care, several trips to the pharmacy, multiple shots (some in places I'll refrain from describing), and barely managing to get through it all without collapsing into a sniveling heap of a person-who-readily-admits-they're-barely-alive-instead-of-braving-it-out-until-the-end-like-an-idiot reality.
Thank goodness for my wonderful, loving, just-as-bad-as-I-am husband, who knew the whole time, helped me through it, and is making me tea even as I (completely inappropriately) type this.
Sigh... we may as well have just gone in January; at least the pneumonia wouldn't have been unexpected. Okay, I'm going back to bed now. Good night.
Monday, September 20, 2010
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Marble Notebook Mystery
Between preschool, elementary school, and now middle school, suffice it to say that I have plenty of experience with the need for marble notebooks.
More specifically, I am accustomed to the annual deficit of marble notebooks--right when you need them--at the beginning of the school year.
Oh sure, I see them throughout the rest of the year; I even see them the week before school supply lists are posted. But do I buy them? Nooo. Why? Your guess is as good as mine.
Instead, I wait for the school supply lists to come out. Which always (from preschool to high school) involve marble notebooks. At which point we do the school supply shopping and get every single thing on the lists with the exception of the elusive marble notebooks, which are undoubtedly sold out at every Wal-Mart, Target, Staples, etc.
I smack myself on the forehead, thinking, "Why, oh why didn't I just buy them when they were in stock?" (Not to mention on sale for 50 cents instead of $1.50.)
27 stores later when we finally find them, I tell my girls to each pick an extra notebook, to have just in case. I am so smart, I think to myself. I am outsmarting those rotten non-stocking marble notebook people once and for all!
Then the kids come home throughout the first week with additional supplies needed, which always exceed the one extra marble notebook we bought. Foiled!
Then there's the further dilemma that now, marble notebooks are not even marble anymore! Not only do they come in green, blue, red, and yellow in addition to the classic black, but they also come in peace signs, rainbows, kittens, Miley Cyrus, and ten thousand other designs. And I don't know about you, but to my girls, the picture on the outside of the notebook is perhaps more important than having the school supply itself.
School started here in NC two weeks ago and I meant to forewarn my friends who live in other states, all of whom surely forget this every year just as I do. But I was too busy running to stores looking for the notebooks.
Yesterday, I was in Staples and found "marble" notebooks on sale for $1. Not such a great price, I know. I bought six of them in various designs. They're the emergency backup marble notebooks (which of course we will not need until next year, at which point they'll be out of style).
Hey friends... if you get desperate, I can ship them to you! Sure, they'll end up being $5 marble notebooks, but... oh yeah, school has already started by you too. In fact, you're probably reading this blog on your mobile device in between running to stores looking for marble notebooks.
Sorry.
Let's vow to help one another remember to stock up on them at Easter time this year. Sure, they'll all have bunnies, but we will have marble notebooks before school starts next year! Who's in?
More specifically, I am accustomed to the annual deficit of marble notebooks--right when you need them--at the beginning of the school year.
Oh sure, I see them throughout the rest of the year; I even see them the week before school supply lists are posted. But do I buy them? Nooo. Why? Your guess is as good as mine.
Instead, I wait for the school supply lists to come out. Which always (from preschool to high school) involve marble notebooks. At which point we do the school supply shopping and get every single thing on the lists with the exception of the elusive marble notebooks, which are undoubtedly sold out at every Wal-Mart, Target, Staples, etc.
I smack myself on the forehead, thinking, "Why, oh why didn't I just buy them when they were in stock?" (Not to mention on sale for 50 cents instead of $1.50.)
27 stores later when we finally find them, I tell my girls to each pick an extra notebook, to have just in case. I am so smart, I think to myself. I am outsmarting those rotten non-stocking marble notebook people once and for all!
Then the kids come home throughout the first week with additional supplies needed, which always exceed the one extra marble notebook we bought. Foiled!
Then there's the further dilemma that now, marble notebooks are not even marble anymore! Not only do they come in green, blue, red, and yellow in addition to the classic black, but they also come in peace signs, rainbows, kittens, Miley Cyrus, and ten thousand other designs. And I don't know about you, but to my girls, the picture on the outside of the notebook is perhaps more important than having the school supply itself.
School started here in NC two weeks ago and I meant to forewarn my friends who live in other states, all of whom surely forget this every year just as I do. But I was too busy running to stores looking for the notebooks.
Yesterday, I was in Staples and found "marble" notebooks on sale for $1. Not such a great price, I know. I bought six of them in various designs. They're the emergency backup marble notebooks (which of course we will not need until next year, at which point they'll be out of style).
Hey friends... if you get desperate, I can ship them to you! Sure, they'll end up being $5 marble notebooks, but... oh yeah, school has already started by you too. In fact, you're probably reading this blog on your mobile device in between running to stores looking for marble notebooks.
Sorry.
Let's vow to help one another remember to stock up on them at Easter time this year. Sure, they'll all have bunnies, but we will have marble notebooks before school starts next year! Who's in?
Saturday, August 21, 2010
Google Analytics Torture
I don't know about you, but I find technology to be a strange mix of torture and pleasure: Computers, the Internet, blogging, Facebook--they're all wonderful resources--when they work.
When they don't work, however, there is perhaps nothing more torturous. Viruses, frozen screens, having to reformat your computer and lose all your information... these are reasons why I use a Mac.
Yes, I am one of those Apple users that borders on psychotic in favor of my beloved computer/s that "just work."
Unfortunately, there are some things that can't be avoided: namely, Internet-based applications. Such as Firefox, (my favorite browser), and Google Analytics, which has been implemented by seemingly every website in the universe, used to track visitors and their clicks.
Hosed up beyond my wildest imagination, my lightning-fast, high-tech, never-has-a-problem computer has been rendered lethargic by Google Analytics. For weeks.
And I--ever the problem solver--have also been hosed up, wasting hours of my time searching for a way to fix it: reading blogs, searching forums, and downloading applications (which I am mostly not afraid of due to the Mac-ness of my computer being far less vulnerable than my PC counterparts).
Finally, my wonderful husband found the solution for me and now I will share it with you: It's called NoScript, and it is the only thing that has worked: https://addons.mozilla.org/en-US/firefox/addon/722/
If you're suffering like I have been with this Google Analytics problem, I hope it helps you too... the Internet has once again become an invaluable tool rather than a torturous device that tests the very limits of my willpower to not throw things out the window. Good luck!
When they don't work, however, there is perhaps nothing more torturous. Viruses, frozen screens, having to reformat your computer and lose all your information... these are reasons why I use a Mac.
Yes, I am one of those Apple users that borders on psychotic in favor of my beloved computer/s that "just work."
Unfortunately, there are some things that can't be avoided: namely, Internet-based applications. Such as Firefox, (my favorite browser), and Google Analytics, which has been implemented by seemingly every website in the universe, used to track visitors and their clicks.
Hosed up beyond my wildest imagination, my lightning-fast, high-tech, never-has-a-problem computer has been rendered lethargic by Google Analytics. For weeks.
And I--ever the problem solver--have also been hosed up, wasting hours of my time searching for a way to fix it: reading blogs, searching forums, and downloading applications (which I am mostly not afraid of due to the Mac-ness of my computer being far less vulnerable than my PC counterparts).
Finally, my wonderful husband found the solution for me and now I will share it with you: It's called NoScript, and it is the only thing that has worked: https://addons.mozilla.org/en-US/firefox/addon/722/
If you're suffering like I have been with this Google Analytics problem, I hope it helps you too... the Internet has once again become an invaluable tool rather than a torturous device that tests the very limits of my willpower to not throw things out the window. Good luck!
Saturday, August 14, 2010
Women and Friendship
Women and friendship, what's the first thing that comes to mind?
Close-knit girlfriends who are there for you always, through thick and thin, bringing bottles of wine in your time of need? Who you can call at 3am just because you need to talk and they'll groggily be glad to hear from you?
Alas, this is not Sex and the City. This is real life. And while some lucky ladies may have a friend out there who she could call at 3am, it is the very rare bird who actually feels like she can. Or would.
More commonly, our lives are filled with acquaintances: People we spend time with, chatting about things like our childrens' schools, work, what's on sale at Penney's and other mundane topics, but never really getting to the nitty gritty.
Sure, there are some friends with whom we come closer to the sandpaper of life--gingerly touching with a fingertip--but then turning that index finger and using it to point. At her? At ourselves? Pointing, no matter in what direction, is easier than exposing a wound, open for another person to see.
But then, there is another question: What would happen if we were to continue rubbing? If we were to force ourselves through the discomfort of touching those rough surfaces, allowing our friends and ourselves to break through the protective barrier that we all keep around us (thin though it may be)? And what if, instead of pointing, we were to lay the fingertip on the table, open, wounded, and allow one another the opportunity to nurse it with the antibiotic salve of friendship?
It might be like in the Sex and the City movie (the first one), when Samantha spoon-feeds a few bites of hot cereal to Carrie, who has been jilted and is completely miserable. Whose friends know she is miserable because instead of putting on a brave face and acting "okay," she openly cries in front of them, then gets into bed and won't come out for two days.
But then again, it might not be like that (we logically remind ourselves, "Those girls are in a movie!"). That's the risk that we women, who go through life acting like acquaintances yet wishing we were soul mates, would have to take. It would be uncomfortable. And it would take two people both doing it at once.
It would take getting comfortable with being uncomfortable.
I've often wondered, if we women were to put a moratorium on "surfaceness" and a stronghold on "safeness," could women and friendships be different? What do you think?
Close-knit girlfriends who are there for you always, through thick and thin, bringing bottles of wine in your time of need? Who you can call at 3am just because you need to talk and they'll groggily be glad to hear from you?
Alas, this is not Sex and the City. This is real life. And while some lucky ladies may have a friend out there who she could call at 3am, it is the very rare bird who actually feels like she can. Or would.
More commonly, our lives are filled with acquaintances: People we spend time with, chatting about things like our childrens' schools, work, what's on sale at Penney's and other mundane topics, but never really getting to the nitty gritty.
Sure, there are some friends with whom we come closer to the sandpaper of life--gingerly touching with a fingertip--but then turning that index finger and using it to point. At her? At ourselves? Pointing, no matter in what direction, is easier than exposing a wound, open for another person to see.
But then, there is another question: What would happen if we were to continue rubbing? If we were to force ourselves through the discomfort of touching those rough surfaces, allowing our friends and ourselves to break through the protective barrier that we all keep around us (thin though it may be)? And what if, instead of pointing, we were to lay the fingertip on the table, open, wounded, and allow one another the opportunity to nurse it with the antibiotic salve of friendship?
It might be like in the Sex and the City movie (the first one), when Samantha spoon-feeds a few bites of hot cereal to Carrie, who has been jilted and is completely miserable. Whose friends know she is miserable because instead of putting on a brave face and acting "okay," she openly cries in front of them, then gets into bed and won't come out for two days.
But then again, it might not be like that (we logically remind ourselves, "Those girls are in a movie!"). That's the risk that we women, who go through life acting like acquaintances yet wishing we were soul mates, would have to take. It would be uncomfortable. And it would take two people both doing it at once.
It would take getting comfortable with being uncomfortable.
I've often wondered, if we women were to put a moratorium on "surfaceness" and a stronghold on "safeness," could women and friendships be different? What do you think?
Friday, August 6, 2010
Next Novel: Started!
I'm a member of a few reputable writing forums; the one I benefit from most is Backspace (www.bksp.org).
Often, I've wondered how in the world people can be writing another book when their previous one has not even been published yet. I couldn't imagine being able to concentrate on a new project when "my baby" is still awaiting representation.
Turns out, they're onto something. I've recently discovered that if I were to sit around waiting for everything to come together, I'd soon be on the funny farm... the funny farm at which e-mail is banned because the novelists are all sitting in the corner babbling to themselves about the need to check, Check, CHECK their e-mail!
Sigh. I knew it would be a long process--it was the arduousness of it that I underestimated.
Today, I surprised myself. When I opened my new project (for the umpteenth time), I finally had something to say. My fingers flew as the story began forming magically on the pages.
Ah, magic. The magic of writing. I truly hope others will soon be able to enjoy MOMNESIA, but until they do, at least I'm getting some fulfillment out of writing.
Stay tuned!
Often, I've wondered how in the world people can be writing another book when their previous one has not even been published yet. I couldn't imagine being able to concentrate on a new project when "my baby" is still awaiting representation.
Turns out, they're onto something. I've recently discovered that if I were to sit around waiting for everything to come together, I'd soon be on the funny farm... the funny farm at which e-mail is banned because the novelists are all sitting in the corner babbling to themselves about the need to check, Check, CHECK their e-mail!
Sigh. I knew it would be a long process--it was the arduousness of it that I underestimated.
Today, I surprised myself. When I opened my new project (for the umpteenth time), I finally had something to say. My fingers flew as the story began forming magically on the pages.
Ah, magic. The magic of writing. I truly hope others will soon be able to enjoy MOMNESIA, but until they do, at least I'm getting some fulfillment out of writing.
Stay tuned!
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Dog Days of Summer
I wish I were a dog. No, really!
If I were a dog, I could lay around and sleep all day, have several meals served to me by doting people who love me, play when I'm in the mood, and... well, that's about it.
Instead, my days consist of getting up at the crack of dawn in order to get some work done before the kids get up, followed by dragging them out of bed and trying to get them to "do something." Anything. (Other than watch television, that is; if left to their own accord, they'd be like vegetables before the end of one week... vegetables who can quote George Lopez verbatim but can't remember how to spell their own names.)
After school being out for two months already, the pool (now mostly empty) is the temperature of a hot tub, we've seen several movies, they've gone roller skating, have had friends over, and have done all the rest of the things kids do during summer break. I, on the other hand, have done very little that adults like to do, as there is no money (or energy) left after paying for the aforementioned activities and more.
They're done. We're ALL done. Even the cats are bored; I swear they rolled their eyes at me this morning when I opened the door to the screened porch and suggested they go scare some birds. Sure, there's Girl Scout camp next week, several more parties and play dates, people coming from out of town to visit. But in the end, all of us are ready for back to school time.
But there's still a month to go.
Sigh. I think I'll go next door and hang out with the neighbor's dog.
If I were a dog, I could lay around and sleep all day, have several meals served to me by doting people who love me, play when I'm in the mood, and... well, that's about it.
Instead, my days consist of getting up at the crack of dawn in order to get some work done before the kids get up, followed by dragging them out of bed and trying to get them to "do something." Anything. (Other than watch television, that is; if left to their own accord, they'd be like vegetables before the end of one week... vegetables who can quote George Lopez verbatim but can't remember how to spell their own names.)
After school being out for two months already, the pool (now mostly empty) is the temperature of a hot tub, we've seen several movies, they've gone roller skating, have had friends over, and have done all the rest of the things kids do during summer break. I, on the other hand, have done very little that adults like to do, as there is no money (or energy) left after paying for the aforementioned activities and more.
They're done. We're ALL done. Even the cats are bored; I swear they rolled their eyes at me this morning when I opened the door to the screened porch and suggested they go scare some birds. Sure, there's Girl Scout camp next week, several more parties and play dates, people coming from out of town to visit. But in the end, all of us are ready for back to school time.
But there's still a month to go.
Sigh. I think I'll go next door and hang out with the neighbor's dog.
Friday, July 9, 2010
Lake Lover's Ordeal
We just returned from a five-day vacation at the lake house with anywhere from four and six kids at any given time.
I know, I know, I can hear you gasp. Just like my husband and I gasped at the grocery bill. But in reality, the abundance of kids was not nearly as exhausting as one might imagine... There is a phenomenon in which it is relatively relaxing to allow the kids to bring friends, thus eliminating bickering amongst themselves and allowing the six-hour days of pulling kids on tubes, knee boards, water skis, and wake boards to be far more enjoyable.
So what was the ordeal? The air-conditioning. Which we are paying a fortune to have entirely replaced with a super-efficient, snow-blowing, guaranteed-to-make-us-freeze system.
It was supposed to be finished the week before but it was back ordered. So in between meals, towels, sunscreen, etc. for six kids, myself, and my husband, there were also a multitude of workmen in and out of the house, pounding all day, 92 degree indoor temperatures, an accidental hole in the carpet, an accidental hole in the wall, and the update that, alas, they didn't realize there is some ventilation problem, and we will need to hire yet another contractor to install two attic fans and blow foam insulation in our unreachable attic.
Not to mention the (household) water. Which has nothing to do with the air-conditioning, but was an unfortunate coincidence. Our subdivision well sprung a leak, thus resulting in barely a dribble of water ALL WEEK, making us have to painstakingly fill up pails in order to even flush the toilets and having to reassure all the kids that "don't worry, you're getting clean in the lake."
We're home a day early. I'm sure it will all work out in the end, and I know the kids had a good time, but for we adults--who are normally hardcore lake lovers--it was a bit of an ordeal. Sigh.
I know, I know, I can hear you gasp. Just like my husband and I gasped at the grocery bill. But in reality, the abundance of kids was not nearly as exhausting as one might imagine... There is a phenomenon in which it is relatively relaxing to allow the kids to bring friends, thus eliminating bickering amongst themselves and allowing the six-hour days of pulling kids on tubes, knee boards, water skis, and wake boards to be far more enjoyable.
So what was the ordeal? The air-conditioning. Which we are paying a fortune to have entirely replaced with a super-efficient, snow-blowing, guaranteed-to-make-us-freeze system.
It was supposed to be finished the week before but it was back ordered. So in between meals, towels, sunscreen, etc. for six kids, myself, and my husband, there were also a multitude of workmen in and out of the house, pounding all day, 92 degree indoor temperatures, an accidental hole in the carpet, an accidental hole in the wall, and the update that, alas, they didn't realize there is some ventilation problem, and we will need to hire yet another contractor to install two attic fans and blow foam insulation in our unreachable attic.
Not to mention the (household) water. Which has nothing to do with the air-conditioning, but was an unfortunate coincidence. Our subdivision well sprung a leak, thus resulting in barely a dribble of water ALL WEEK, making us have to painstakingly fill up pails in order to even flush the toilets and having to reassure all the kids that "don't worry, you're getting clean in the lake."
We're home a day early. I'm sure it will all work out in the end, and I know the kids had a good time, but for we adults--who are normally hardcore lake lovers--it was a bit of an ordeal. Sigh.
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