This morning I received a lovely notification as I do every morning that I had memories of mine that facebook would like for me to see. I always look at them if I have a moment, and today I was slapped in the face with all the memories of me copying and pasting url links from my long lost blog in celebration of it’s birthday. “That’s right! I have a blog.” I thought as I remembered there have been dozens of times I’ve been meaning to get back to it and write some more nonsense.
So, I bought the cake. I picked out a glittery number candle. I sloppily wrote words with a bag of frosting. Technically, I’m blogging.
Maybe tomorrow will be the day I begin to earmark time on a regular basis to type on a regular basis. Maybe I’ll blog every day in August to proclaim my detest of the entire month. Maybe not. But consider this post at the very least a reminder that next year will be my tenth blogiversary! I truly hope to see you here before then. Cheers!
Good! You came to the right place!
I am utterly depressed about not keeping up with my vow to blog every day this month. I really am, I’d much rather be blogging than doing what I’m doing.
I’m ill. In the sore-throat-high-fever-I hope-I’m-not-sporting-a-case-of-strep variety. My carpal tunnel in my wrists is flaring so badly driving is a painful chore, let alone the numb burning that I get from typing a few paragraphs. While condo life is definitely more simple because I have a dishwasher and a working washer/dryer, acting as a single parent is not. I’d kill for a night with a couple hours to do nothing. A couple minutes would do.
I’m tired, sick, frazzled, and I’m missing hundreds of clumps of hair. My biggest worry right now is that when my baby girl turns four this Sunday I won’t be able to pull off the sort of cake she’s requested as neither cake making nor art are talents I possess.
There’s more. I’m just not willing to share. I’m in one of those moments that won’t kill me but will hopefully make me stronger.
Thanks for listening to me whine. I’m hoping to make up the loss of posting days. And I’m also hoping to put up a Christmas tree up soon. It’s time.
Henry is just about a year and a haf old. He’s an easy kid, for the most part. He’s a wild toddler and these are the toughest months, but he is a smiley joyful kid and all the mischeif he gets into is easily worth his snuggles and smiles.
But Henry pulls hair. Not once in awhile, all of the whiles. I used to have thick long hair. It’s still long, in some parts. But (and this is mostly because I sleep next to him) it is thin and broken and as vain as this is I hate my hair right now because for about the past six months Henry has pulled it out in clumps.
It’s not a naughtly thing. He doesn’t pull hair like when a kid bites or hits. He pulls it for comfort, like a baby sucks it’s thumb. But the comfort I am prividing him while he sleeps leaves hundreds of hairs on my pillow each night.
I talked to his doctor, I went and got a real hair cut at a salon to see if I could cover the loss, which I never do as I always just trim it up myself. I tried laying long haired dolls next to him, he prefers natural hair over plastic. I even started wrapping scarfs tightly around my head at bed time. He can wriggle his tiny hand into the scarf and commence the pull fest.
I can ony thing of two more things to try, kick him out of my bed and wear a swim cap to bed. Tomorrow we try the swim cap. I really hope this works, I truy don’t want to kick him out of bed?. But little guy-that’s where you’re going if we can’t work this out. My scalp is raw, and my hair is atrocious.
Anyone have this issure ever? How did you deal with it?
I missed yesterday, and while I was in the middle of today’s entry I relized it was going to take too long to post today. So I have to get something in so I don’t end up needing to make up two days.
Think quick Kristiane…gotta make a post…it’s November…LIGHTBULB! November Rain!
Oh Guns n Roses, you never fail to deliver. Well in the 90s you didn’t, now you are off the radar.
There has always been great and terrible music. Any level headed person can see this. But, as I was re-watching the video for November Rain this evening, I decided that while your generation, if it is indeed different than my own, may have or have had great music…it will never be as great as the generation of those who came of age listening to Guns N Roses. Not solely because of Axel and his kin, though they are a good part of it. However (and as I said, there’s great music from all eras) the top 40 music from 1985-1995 is far superior to, in my ever so humble opinion, all other Top 40 decades. Ever. It’s more diversive, it’s more artistic, we had freaking amazing MTV videos to go along with the songs etc. And we had Guns n Roses.
I may or may not have just spent the better of two hours watching old songs on YouTube. If I had, it would have reminded me that on any given afternoon when school let out I could watch MTV and see a video by Guns n Roses sandwiched between Dr. Dre and Deee-Lite.
I’ll be back tomorrow with something longer and less divisive. But let’s do one more, it’ll be fun:
I am dealing with a new vaccuum cleaner at my condo. I actually hate this vaccum cleaner, as it requires me to purchase bags. It also is as loud as a jet airplane. Ear plugs are suggested when I flip on the power. I realized there are no back-up bags for the thing when I was cleaning today and added them to my shopping list. The side of the vaccum says, “BAG TYPE: D”.
I added them to the list. At the store I found everthing I needed. Except vaccuum bags. Sporting one of those I-can’t-find-what-I-need faces a box boy asked if I was finding everything alright?
“Do you have any D-Bags?,” I replied
“For vaccuum cleaners.” I added, a moment too late.
My face was red. He was clearly stifling a giant, HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! I’m guessing I was the first customer to ever ask his assistance in locating, D-Bags.
All that hoopla and they don’t carry ANY vaccuum bags. I rehearsed the phrase, “vaccuum cleaner bags, size D” in my head a hundred times on my way home. I will write that down verbatum as well on my next shopping list.
Have you ever had a flat tire or ran out of gas on the freeway? Sure, it sucks. Inconvenience aside, having to get out of your car and stand on or next to the freeway gives you a totally different experience of freeways (or highways).
I’m still without wifi and in a quick search for something historic about today, November 4th, I found that here was an oil crises in 1973 which caused Holland to declare Sundays, “car free”.
I found some pictures. While I am in love with driving. It looks so peaceful on the freeways.
People rollerskated, biked, even ride horseback on multi-lane freeways. The places they only saw zip by in the past they got to experience without glass and steel separating in between, or even had a place to relax.
Ok. This is a bit much. Guessing the picture is from an article about the new law of no cars on Sunday. I doubt Jr there hauled the lazy boy and house plant on the back of his tractor.
So, it’s not a holiday. But it’s a historic event. Forty-two years ago the country of Holland banned cars on Sunday. I think we should revive this here in the US. But not with cars, let’s ban Facebook on Tuesdays and Twitter on Fridays and Saracha on Wednesdays. (Seriously, it’s alright but there are plenty of other superior hot sauces).
See you tomorrow. And tomorrow, the Internet fix it person arrives. I won’t have to thumb type. Holla!
Did I mention I’m not staying at my home for a few months? I’m not. I’m living it up in a condo while my house is being finished. And by living it up I mean taking money out of the money set aside to finish my house to rent a place to live so my littlest kids don’t eat screws and climb scaffolding.
My point here is I’m using condo wifi. And it lasted a whopping two days before going out. So while I have no reliable internet to use a keyboard ready device I must blog with my thumbs on my smart phone using the small amount of data I allow myself in my cell plan.
Two paragraphs of explanation later, I have to blog quick today. So let me tell you my secret. I’m currently a barista. I make coffee and espresso drinks for people in an amazing little shop. It’s a jewel, to be honest. We serve the finest espresso drinks around and we’re in a town where most would believe fine things are rare. I take enormous pride in my work and with a nose pointed high into the air I mock chain coffee with snarky sass and annoying confidence.
But there’s this drink. A drink I can only buy at the one place I never buy actual coffee. *Big Sigh* Im addicted to Green Tea Frappuccinos.
It’s so shameful, I know. I’d say 3-5 times a week I drive my vehicle over to the local abomination of craft coffee shop and make my order. It’s become such a problem that they KNOW me. I’m a regular. It’s just that, nobody else has this drink. It’s the green tea matcha powder. I ask for extra matcha and less sweet. It’s just…so good. And above getting my antioxidants in frappe form, it’s being served to ME. Having someone make me a drink is something I was missing. I make hundred of orders weekly for other people. Having someone make me something is really amazing for once.
So now you know. I won’t blame you if you have a hard time looking me in the eye for a little while. But for the record, I still despise chain coffee. That’s worth something, isn’t it?