Blog Love for the New Year!

*Whew* How do I manage to forget from year to year how exhausting Christmas is?  Between making my list and checking it twice and then shopping, evaluating, and realizing that we’ve inadvertently gotten more stuff for one child than the other two....*sigh*

In the midst of working this week helping those who received their electronics device for Christmas but can seem to figure out how to work it, get to the proper place (we are NOT tech support flucktards!  Obviously I don’t say it like that.) I have managed to reclaim my house from the encroaching and overly cheery Christmas decorations, made hard candy and lip balm - but that’s a whole ‘nother blog post - so far have managed to not kill my children, and finally sit down to blog.  

Not that it matters to you guys whether I post or not, but I feel a wee bit guilty when I don’t.  Yes, I’m really that self-centered.  In the back of my mind I’m sure that you are all waiting with bated breath to see what I have to say next.  What golden morsel of blog wisdom or wit I will be sharing with you.    Because I’m so full of awesome, all that and a bag o’chips, right?  Yeah, I know, but don’t burden yourself with the need to disillusion me.  

Bruce over at Bruce Johnson JADIP (by the way took me forever to realize what the JADIP was)  gave me the sweetest award.  No really, that’s what it says.  Thank you, thank you thank you.  Like you, I may have to start smoking again due to the stress of only being able to choose 3 people to pass it on to.  By the way people, if you haven’t checked out Bruce or his Evil Twin do it....now...it’s okay, we’ll wait.  

Okay, now that everyone is back with us.  I’ll list my guilty pleasures.  I don’t follow directions well, how many am I listing?  Five, I think.  I’ll figure out who I’m giving my award to while I’m making my list.  

1. The Twilight Saga - yes, I realize that I just ruined my credibility as a grown up with that one statement, but what can I say?  I’m a sucker for a supernatural love story involving vampires and werewolves.  
2. Showtunes - when I’m working my cyber mojo I listen to my Les Miserables station on Pandora.  It plays songs from other musicals too, like Chicago, Rocky Horror, Hairspray and Avenue Q.  
3. Yoga pants - I love yoga pants.  I got my first pair only recently and they are nothing short of cotton/spandex awesomeness.  I love the way they feel on my bottom oh, and TMI alert, I don’t wear them with underwear either.  
4. Vodka - I know that I have oft spoken of my love for Vodka but it’s a guilty pleasure.  When the work day is done and the kids are in bed, I sit down with a vodkatini and unwind.  I swear it isn’t as refined as it may sound.  I like vodka and green olives although most often I drink cheaper vodka with Crystal Light.  
5. Supernatural, Vampire Diaries (see #1), Hellcats, Glee and a handful of ‘reality tv’ shows - I feel like pretty much my entire TV lineup during the regular and now summer season is a guilty pleasure.  Not only because I secretly believe that I must be the only person who watches so they are keeping (fill in the blank show) on just for me (see self-centered comment earlier in the post), but because in the back of my mind I’m sure there is something more useful that I should be doing.  

Now on to my award winners... there are so many blogs that I love and I want to not give this award to someone who already has it.  

As Vinny C's it - he has a blog that is really irresistable to me.  I check in often even if I have technical issues leaving a comment sometimes. 

It's never to late to save a hopeless case because I just love Steph and her randomness/craziness.  

and finally Dad over at Unsound Reasoning because he’s just a laugh, regardless of what he thinks of Idaho.  

For those who didn’t get awards, I’m sorry it’s so hard when you can only choose three!!!  Please , winners keep spreading the love around!!!!  

Universe Signals

So, a few of my friends on Facebook are posting asking if anyone has started thinking of New Year’s Resolutions yet.  The simple answer, Hell no.  I’m not much of a resolutions person anyway.  One sure way to make sure that I don’t achieve a goal is to make it ‘off limits’ to myself.  That may work for some people but I’m not that woman.  If I tell myself I can’t have chocolate, that’s all I want.  If I tell myself no caffeine all I can think about is how a caffeinated beverage would perk me up.  I’ve never bothered telling myself no alcohol, because...well...why?  I mean really.  Also, New Year’s Resolutions are really sort of arbitrary too, if you think about it.  You pick the first day of the year to start or stop a habit.  How is that any different from making that same decision on March 12, June 24, or September 2?  It isn’t.  Exactly my point.  

I also saw a couple of blogs today.  One was a guest blog on Amber LaShell Rants (congrats for winning NaNoWriMo) and she guest posted on another person’s blog.  20 something bloggers called it a blog swap.  It was cool.  Anyway, the topic they were given to write about was Action.  What will you do in the new year that needs to be done, that you have been meaning to do.  

This is sort of a copycat blog but not really because it’s another of those fuzzy universe signals.  The ones that sound like really bad AM radio, back before all the tuners were digital.  Those blogs inspired me and the question they posed has been in the back of my mind all evening.  ‘What will you do in the new year?” I have a feeling that 2011 is going to be a year of big changes in my life.  Big and really positive changes.  I’m working on learning to be authentic and developing a ‘fuck ‘em if they can’t take a joke’ mentality.  I am going to learn what it is like to be me.  Because being me isn’t a bad thing even if most people don’t really ‘get me’.  I can live with that.  Heck, I’ve been living with that for most of my teenage and adult life.  I’ll keep you all posted on other changes that may be coming.  

What action will you take in the new year?  

Oh, Hello

Friends, I have to admit that between my lovely cold and being buried with work (not sure if I mentioned it, but I manage a group that works chat for a leading online retailer) being that whole holiday season and all my blog has been being neglected. To help me liven things up, I invited sweet Mynx-y over for a spot of tea or maybe some sour apple martinis and told her to make herself at home.  Indeed she did, she came in, propped her feet on my table, raided my pantry, and together we emptied the liquor cabinet.  And I wouldn't have it any other way.  In fact, she made herself so comfortable that she has taken over my blog for now.  Without further ado, I present to you the lovable, wonderful, adorable Mynx. 

Oh hello, did you pop in expecting to see Torystellar?  She is ..ummm a little, shall we say, tied up at the moment.  

(stop grumbling Tory, you know you should have put the handcuffs away before inviting me over.)

You see she is...umm..very busy with ...umm... work, that’s it. 

(Tory, ssshhh, you don’t want me to have to use the crop now, do you?)

Who am I?  Oh sorry, I am Mynx.   A “friend” of Torystellar, you could say.  Yes a fellow blogger.  I just popped in to see if I could ..ummm ..help her, that’s it,  with a new post as she has been a bit quiet lately.

Have you heard about the idea I had the other day?  To challenge other bloggers into guesting for me by suggesting an opening line and letting them come up with a post.  

(still waiting for yours by the way Tory, ok, I know it is a bit tricky at the moment, but later, when I find the key)

The opening line of what I am calling “The Sunshine Project.” is “The sun was just peeking through the curtains as..”

So far no one has twigged that I am making everybody else do all the work and just sitting back sipping wine and being lazy hehe.

What? You want to know what I would write.  

Really?  Oh that wasn’t the plan.  The plan was to...oh never mind.  Ok well here goes.  

The sun was just peeking through the shutters (my idea, I can change it if I want) as I slipped out of bed.  The room was quiet with only the soft snoring of my husband breaking the stillness.

Slipping my nightgown off over my head, I quickly grabbed a pair of knickers and my new sarong.  A glorious length of soft fabric with large purple hibiscus printed on it, I had fallen in love with it the moment I saw it in the village.  Knotting it securely across my chest, I moved quietly to the door and opening it, I stepped out into the early morning light.

The air was fresh and clean.  The smell of the ocean, filling my nostrils and I found myself drawn across the still slightly damp lawn towards the beach.

My bare feet sunk into the soft dry white sand as I walked towards the water’s edge.  

The night tide had washed all sign of the hundreds of footprints that had churned the sand the day before.  Like a fresh canvas, it stretched before me, leaving me feeling slightly guilty to mark the perfection with my disrespectful imprint.

A sudden splash had me looking towards the almost impossible blue of the lagoon.  And again as small fish broke the surface, hunting almost invisible insects that flew just above.  

Standing quietly, absorbing the beauty of the scene before me, I felt in awe of the magnificence of this tropical paradise.  

Too busy before to just stop and breathe, the excitement of activities and the large numbers of others sharing the beach creating a different world.

A large sea bird flying overhead caught my eye, and I watched until I could no longer see it, wondering where it was destined.

Continuing my walk, I stopped and watched small crabs scuttle in my path, my movement startling them into a dash for safety.

A small pink shell caught my eye, then a white one, but I left them where they lay.  Too many collected shells lay forgotten in a box.  These must remain on the beach.

Lost in my daydreams, I continued my walk.  Warm water lapped at my toes as I drifted closer to the blue.  

The sounds of morning and a world awakening.  

Bird song and a child’s voice, excited and pleading.  The response of a parent not quite awake.

Lifting my face to the morning sun, I stop.  Breathe. And smile.

“Bula” a smiling voice behind me

“Bula and good morning to you, it is a beautiful day”

See how she is?  A few too many drinks and you wake up handcuffed to your headboard.  At least she didn't use the ball gag, or duct tape.  In all honesty it was completely my honor and pleasure to have her over and she is welcome back any time.  

And yes, I'll start thinking about the Sunshine Project Mynx.  I'm on it.  No really, I am.  Wonder how I can work sunshine into cybershopping, the Christmas season and online chatting seeing as that is ALL I'm doing this days it seems....*An idea is starting to form, let's see if I can shape it into something worthwhile*

Oh, and just because I feel like I need to do so, I'm going to pimp one of my other friend's blogs because I think she needs some blog lovin' and I haven't been the fortunate recipient of an award lately to give her.  Ladies and gents, friends and gentlepeople, if you haven't visited Mrs Hyde at The Well-fed Spirit and A Bitch Called Mom you are missing out.  This woman is a walking contradiction. It's nearly impossible to believe that both blogs are written by the same woman except for the fact that whichever one you are reading the wit is unmistakable.  Pop over and give her a read.  I'm sure that between the two you'll find something you like.  

You need my WHAT?

I’ve managed to go and get myself a really craptastic cold and cough.  The cough is bronchitis and the bronchitis is the reason I don’t smoke any more.  I’m blaming the school system and the parents who send their sick children to school.  Said children then infect my children with germs which they thoughtfully bring home to me.  My nose is simultaneously stopped up and running although I’ve never quite worked out how it can do both at the same time.  I’m certain my head is going to explode due to the pressure inside and when I cough I sound like a barking seal.  Lovely, isn’t it?  

But all of that isn’t the reason for my post today, well, not exactly.  You see I dragged my spectacularly craptastic feeling ass out of bed today and I went to the local Wally world.  Even on my worst day I can go to the Wally world and feel a bit better about myself in comparison to the rest of my local humanity.  You all do it...don’t judge.  Anyway, once at the Wally World I make my way to the cold and flu medicine aisle.  I decide that I need some multi-symptom maximum relief, knock this shit out, kind of medicine.  You know, the type that is chock full of pseudophedrine and like 10% alcohol?  Yes, I know that really doesn’t exist but if you take enough Nyquil and Sudafed multi-symptom you get the same effect.  

So I get my card for my Sudafed (because of course they don’t sell it over the counter any more, you have to go to the pharmacy counter and sign for it) and my bottle of Cherry Nyquil and stand in line.  And stand in line.  And stand in line.  Seriously it really took that long.  When I finally get to the counter the girl starts looking at me really oddly.  I had her my Sudafed card and my Nyquil.  She calls her manager over.  

Oh goody.  This is where the fun part starts.  She whispers to her manager while looking at me out of the corner of her eye like I am some jacked up meth-head with my bloodshot eyes, rudolph red fucking nose and my seal cough.  To me it seemed like it should have been plenty evident that I was sick.  But no, the manager asks me....‘Ma’am (first mistake - I’m nearly 40 but damn) what do you need this for?”  I didn’t say anything for a few moments because I was pretty sure I was hallucinating.  Who would ask that?  After searching my mind I came up with an appropriate response....”Excuse me?”  

“The medicine, why do you need it?” the manager who might have been 23 asks me.  At this point I’m thinking of a dozen different answers (all of them sarcastic) and trying not to go all redneck white chick on this little girl.  My response was a perfectly timed and mightily powerful sneeze that I didn’t bother covering.  “I’m sick.”  Judging from the look on their face you would have thought that I had infected them with one of those zombie viruses. 

Still eyeing me rather suspiciously, the clerk rings up my order.  I can hear the people behind me getting irritable, shifting their weight from one foot to another as they stand in line, waiting.  So before taking my money she brings out the psuedophedrine clipboard and tells me to fill it out.  Which I do. I print and sign my name and write down my Driver’s License number.  Then the little bitch asks to see my license.  WHAT???  I’m buying cold medicine for crying in the rain!  So I take a deep breath and begin to dig in my purse.  I realize at that point that my license is in my coat pocket on the peg at home.  I tell her that and she informs me that she cannot sell me the Sudafed or the Nyquil because I don’t have it.  At this point I am about 2 seconds from screaming at the top of my lungs and going over the counter to throttle her.  The only thing that stopped me was the idea that my cold would feel so much worse sitting in the pokey than in my warm bed surrounded by puffy pillows.  Not to mention I was afraid that if I caused a scene it would confirm for them that I indeed was a criminal set to start my own meth lab with a single box of Sudafed while getting drunk on Nyquil. 

For the record I have neither the recipe for making meth or the inclination to do so and I resented the hell out of the fact that this little flucktard who couldn’t have been more than 19 years old and her ‘I’m in my first managerial role, position of power and someone shoved a large stick up my ass manager’ were denying me relief from my cold symptoms.  Realizing this was not a battle I would win, I sighed heavily and hissed “Fine” and stalked off.  

I did get relief for my cold symptoms, by the way.  From my local pharmacy where they actually sort of know me and are pretty sure that my plus size self is a lot more interested in cooking food than cooking meth.  I’m actually feeling better than I have in a couple of days but that it probably because I’m wired on psuedophedrine and drunk on Nyquil.  Yeah, right....

I know that the lovely ladies working at the Wally World are just doing their job and it is law because of the war on drugs.  And I have to show my ID at my kids' elementary school to help keep them safe.  But it seems like every time we turn around we have to present our  photo for something else.  I suppose I should offer my apologies, this incident today made my inner liberal show.  It really shouldn't be this hard to do the easy stuff.  

What's your take?

Oooooh, Sparkly!!!

Warning: objects in blog post pics may appear larger than they were in reality

As we enter the season of decorations, shiny tinsel and all things sparkly I have gone on a journey to find something special in the junk trunk.   Yes, I’m back on that again.  I know that I drift away from it occasionally (or more than occasionally) but that was the premise of my blog to begin with.  I briefly mentioned here that I was married prior to Darling Husband.  I tend to refer to him as the Practice Husband.  So, I present to you the Practice Ring.  No idea now what became of the real thing. 

After watching my mother be married (several times) while I was growing up, I really had no idea how it was supposed to go.  I sort of figured that marriages were like pancakes, you have to mess up a few (or more than a few in my mother’s case) before you get one right.  Fortunately, I only had to mess up one.  

I started dating him when I was 17.  He was 23.  We both worked at the local grocery store chain.     He had red hair, a shiny red sports car, and he lifted weights regularly.  All of these were attractive attributes.  I’m usually more a fan of tall, dark, and handsome guys but he had a sort of ‘boyish’ charm.  He was the consummate gentleman, nice church going Christian boy.  (I just thew up in my mouth a little bit thinking about it) 

Recently, I noticed several blogs in the vein of ‘What would you say to your 16 year old self?’.  I had to work really hard to resist copycat blogging because there are so, so, so many pieces of advice that I would give myself.  Probably at the top of that list would be - “You are way hotter than you can possibly imagine and immensely lovable, so when you meet the redheaded guy who works in the produce department and drives the hot car don’t merely keep on walking....RUN!”   

I don’t know what to say about him other than we were incompatible.  I was all free spirited, wanting to suck the marrow out of life and he seemed to have stopped maturing emotionally around the age of 14.  I was in honors classes in high school and he was developmentally delayed.  Not like drooling, short bus, licking the windows and wearing a helmet, delayed but not what you’d call the sharpest tool in the shed either. When I look back at that I always ask myself...‘Really?  What were you thinking?’ 

I did manage to keep it together for 1 year and 11 months.  But I couldn’t take his controlling tendencies.  So one evening, I went out to the grocery store and didn’t come back.  I know...that’s so cliche.  But that’s exactly how it happened.  He started calling everywhere and everyone we knew and no one would give me up.  Most of them genuinely didn’t know where I was but those who did, weren’t talking.  It felt like I was escaping.  From that moment on I was experiencing what it was to be 20 years old and free for the first time.  I went buck wild.  But that was covered in 'the other post'. *wink*  

I think the most important thing to take away from this is that I only needed one Practice Husband.  Still wasn't really sure how to be a good wife or be good at being married when Darling Husband and I finally got our collective heads out of our assess and decided to tie the knot.  He just happens to love me a whole lot and is exceptionally understanding.  The fact that we like to fuck like minks probably doesn't hurt either, now that I think on it.  *grin*  Regardless of all that has gone before, I'm thankful for each deviation in my path, because any one thing changed could have led me right past the love of my life.