Thank you, come again!
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Thank You! Come Again!
To any of you who are fans of Stephenie Meyer, please leave me you opinion here.
Monday, February 23, 2009
Easy Like Sunday Morning
Yesterday was the perfect Sunday. A Sunday like the ones I've dreamed about, and missed dearly, since having kids. But let me start with a smidge of Saturday before I move onto Sunday.
After three days of training, Saturday night I was on my own at work.
(Thank God! I hate training, I feel like I'm useless, and getting in everyone's way, not to mention shadowing someone's every move just being really irritating to all parties involved. I've been waiting tables since I was 14...I think I can handle it, right? Okay, off the soapbox now.)
Saturday was busy, and I didn't get home until almost 11:30pm, a late night for me. But I made good money, and didn't screw anything up, so I was feeling pretty great. I stayed up for a little while to finish my chapter in Pride & Prejudice, and went to sleep around midnight.
And then it happened...
I woke up and it was 9:30am!
Now I know, you're going, "Ok, I don't get it. What happened?", but I guess really it was what didn't happen. My daughter slept through the night FOR THE FIRST TIME. All you moms out there are now remembering with a little smile the joy (& probably trepidation if it was you first kid) of sleeping through the night that first time. It was blissful.
But then, and this is when the really great stuff went down, my husband got up with her in the morning, and let me sleep. My husband NEVER gets up in the morning, it's just not what we do. We have our schedule, and I wake up with the kids every single day, except the last Mother's Day, when he got up with my son. Needless to say, I was feeling pretty great when I actually got out of bed, and he was playing in the living room with both the kids, and he had made a pot of coffee, another first, since he doesn't drink it.
As if that stunning beginning wasn't enough, after we all got dressed, we went for a walk around our new neighborhood. The air was FREEZING, but it was so sunny and bright it seemed like a crime not to get out and enjoy it. I didn't take the camera with me (doh!) so I can't show pictures yet, but it's already sitting on the counter, batteries charged, awaiting our next excursion.
Everything here is up or down, there are no level straight-aways. So walking a few streets over with a 1- and 2-year old is like a 5 mile hike in the mountains. But on those few streets I saw so much beauty. There was a huge pond, its murky blue-green water completely still, until an enormous flock of ducks landed with much flapping and squawking, to the utter delight of my children, and therefore to me and my husband as well. A little further along there was a little brook running next to a green lawn, the water running clear and quick over rocks and pools, making tiny waterfalls that, while I dragged my kids back from them repeatedly, I felt bad for doing because I wanted to splash in them too!
The road cut through the mountain then, and on either side of us the famous "GA red clay" rose up, showing the sparking crystilline rocks that make up the mountain itself. There are no leaves on the trees here now, but there are so many trees that I find myself repeating, almost mantra-like, "just wait, it's going to be so beautiful when everything is green with summer". I can just see what that stretch of road is going to look like, winding up and down under the canopy of trees, the light all green and alive, shining down through the leaves unto our upturned faces.
I'm seriously excited about spring, can you tell?
After our walk, the kids were worn out and were both ready for a nap (gotta love those hills!), which they never seem to take simultaneously, so we got to enjoy a few minutes of "adult time" which we ended up spending just sitting next to each other on the front porch, bundled in coats and hats, and not saying much.
It was phenomenal.
To cap off what I consider a truly terrific day, my father-in-law showed up with an obscenely large television that apparently had been sitting in his garage for a while. While I would NEVER buy one of those monstrosities myself, there is something pretty great about watching 300 on a screen so wide you can't put your arms around it.
There's nothing like going back to work after a two year break to make you appreciate how great a day off is. And as far as days off go, yesterday was one of the best!
After three days of training, Saturday night I was on my own at work.
(Thank God! I hate training, I feel like I'm useless, and getting in everyone's way, not to mention shadowing someone's every move just being really irritating to all parties involved. I've been waiting tables since I was 14...I think I can handle it, right? Okay, off the soapbox now.)
Saturday was busy, and I didn't get home until almost 11:30pm, a late night for me. But I made good money, and didn't screw anything up, so I was feeling pretty great. I stayed up for a little while to finish my chapter in Pride & Prejudice, and went to sleep around midnight.
And then it happened...
I woke up and it was 9:30am!
Now I know, you're going, "Ok, I don't get it. What happened?", but I guess really it was what didn't happen. My daughter slept through the night FOR THE FIRST TIME. All you moms out there are now remembering with a little smile the joy (& probably trepidation if it was you first kid) of sleeping through the night that first time. It was blissful.
But then, and this is when the really great stuff went down, my husband got up with her in the morning, and let me sleep. My husband NEVER gets up in the morning, it's just not what we do. We have our schedule, and I wake up with the kids every single day, except the last Mother's Day, when he got up with my son. Needless to say, I was feeling pretty great when I actually got out of bed, and he was playing in the living room with both the kids, and he had made a pot of coffee, another first, since he doesn't drink it.
As if that stunning beginning wasn't enough, after we all got dressed, we went for a walk around our new neighborhood. The air was FREEZING, but it was so sunny and bright it seemed like a crime not to get out and enjoy it. I didn't take the camera with me (doh!) so I can't show pictures yet, but it's already sitting on the counter, batteries charged, awaiting our next excursion.
Everything here is up or down, there are no level straight-aways. So walking a few streets over with a 1- and 2-year old is like a 5 mile hike in the mountains. But on those few streets I saw so much beauty. There was a huge pond, its murky blue-green water completely still, until an enormous flock of ducks landed with much flapping and squawking, to the utter delight of my children, and therefore to me and my husband as well. A little further along there was a little brook running next to a green lawn, the water running clear and quick over rocks and pools, making tiny waterfalls that, while I dragged my kids back from them repeatedly, I felt bad for doing because I wanted to splash in them too!
The road cut through the mountain then, and on either side of us the famous "GA red clay" rose up, showing the sparking crystilline rocks that make up the mountain itself. There are no leaves on the trees here now, but there are so many trees that I find myself repeating, almost mantra-like, "just wait, it's going to be so beautiful when everything is green with summer". I can just see what that stretch of road is going to look like, winding up and down under the canopy of trees, the light all green and alive, shining down through the leaves unto our upturned faces.
I'm seriously excited about spring, can you tell?
After our walk, the kids were worn out and were both ready for a nap (gotta love those hills!), which they never seem to take simultaneously, so we got to enjoy a few minutes of "adult time" which we ended up spending just sitting next to each other on the front porch, bundled in coats and hats, and not saying much.
It was phenomenal.
To cap off what I consider a truly terrific day, my father-in-law showed up with an obscenely large television that apparently had been sitting in his garage for a while. While I would NEVER buy one of those monstrosities myself, there is something pretty great about watching 300 on a screen so wide you can't put your arms around it.
There's nothing like going back to work after a two year break to make you appreciate how great a day off is. And as far as days off go, yesterday was one of the best!
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Nothing On My Mind But Georgia
I have arrived in my new state-land of peaches, rappers, and antiques. Georgia; northern Georgia to be exact, at the start of the Appalachian Mountains.
We got up at 7am on Saturday and went to Henry's for breakfast one last time, which was a great way to start the day. The rest was spent packing up the U-Haul we'd rented, thinking we could definitely fit our lives in the back of a 17 foot truck. By the time 8pm rolled around, the time we'd decided to leave the beach, we had packed the truck so that not a single inch was wasted, and still didn't take everything with us.
{In case you're wondering, we decided to drive through the night so that the kids would sleep (hopefully) most of the way. If you don't have kids you probably don't get how giving up a good night's sleep is totally worth it when the alternative is turning a 9.5 hour trip into a 12.5 hour trip, considering all the stopping and letting the kids out to stretch and run, not to mention the endless screaming, toy throwing, and general chaos than can occur while driving with small children.}
When the time came to actually get in the truck and go, the surreal feeling I'd been holding onto kind of slipped, and the reality of what I was about to do hit me a little. Especially when my mom started crying. We aren't a family that cries lightly and openly about things. I mean, if it's called for then it's not a big deal or anything, we just don't give in to it unless we have to. So it was a pretty emotional few minutes. Add to the fact that my 1 year old daughter, who can be seriously adorable when she puts her mind to it, could tell something was making her Mimi sad, so she kept giving her big, open-mouth kisses and smiling, making her sounds for "nice". It was kind of heart-wrenching, in a good way.
I managed to get the kids into the truck, and started down my road for the last time. My husband was following with the U-Haul, so I let the tears come for half a minute, let the reality settle in again that I was leaving everything I knew for new and uncharted lands. Well, new and uncharted for us at least.
But as I was leaving the old neighborhood, I turned that part off again and settled into "driving mode", focusing only on where I was going and what I was doing at that moment. Inconsequential details like speed limits, passing cars, and gas levels have a way of emptying the mind of everything else, allowing you to focus on only those things in front of you; a large part of the reason I love to drive-freedom to think as deeply or shallowly as one wishes.
After stopping for one last fill-up, and to stock up on some serious energy drinks, we hit the road in ernest, south and west, from sandy beaches and flat lands to trees and rivers winding down mountains.
The next 9.5 hours were mostly uneventful, unless you consider drinking a 5-Hour Energy Shot, a Red Bull, a tall french vanilla cappacino, and a can of Coke eventful. I'll tell you this, it was pretty eventful to my heart rate.
At a little after 6am, right about the time when I just knew I COULD NOT sit in the car and stare at lines on the road for ONE MORE MINUTE without completely, totally, absolutely FREAKING OUT and LOSING CONTROL, we drove up one last hill, and I literally let out a little gasp.
The sky was still very dark, although not as dark as it had been an hour before, and the air was a little foggy and damp with early morning. We crested the top of the hill and laid out in the valley before us, all dark windows and glowing yellow streetlights, was the town. It was an absolutely beautiful moment that I don't think I'll forget for a very long time. It was like driving into a story book, or a Norman Rockwell painting.
I only had a second to take it all in because, as it tends to in the mountains, as soon as we went up, we had to go back down, and right, and left, and up again. I like driving in the mountains because you never know what the next manuver is going to be.
Seeing the story-book village picture calmed me down a little bit and I was feeling a little more relaxed and able to make it the last 10 minutes to our new house. I was also feeling a little nauseous from drinking such a ridiculous amount of caffeine and eating nothing, so I was hoping it really was only ten minutes away.
As it turned out, it was two minutes less, and we were suddenly there; our new house.
Home.
The kids, in that way that kids seem to have, woke up as soon as I parked in the drive way, and gladly got out of their carseats to investigate the new place. After discovering that tile and wood floors combined with a complete lack of furniture, or anything else, made for great running/jumping/echoes, we left them to it and started unpacking.
I don't ever want to think about that part of the trip again, so if you don't mind, I'll just skip over it and go straight to my next favorite part.
After close to 36 hours with no shut-eye at all, I laid down in our familiar bed- in a new house, a new state, a new life-and went to sleep.
We got up at 7am on Saturday and went to Henry's for breakfast one last time, which was a great way to start the day. The rest was spent packing up the U-Haul we'd rented, thinking we could definitely fit our lives in the back of a 17 foot truck. By the time 8pm rolled around, the time we'd decided to leave the beach, we had packed the truck so that not a single inch was wasted, and still didn't take everything with us.
{In case you're wondering, we decided to drive through the night so that the kids would sleep (hopefully) most of the way. If you don't have kids you probably don't get how giving up a good night's sleep is totally worth it when the alternative is turning a 9.5 hour trip into a 12.5 hour trip, considering all the stopping and letting the kids out to stretch and run, not to mention the endless screaming, toy throwing, and general chaos than can occur while driving with small children.}
When the time came to actually get in the truck and go, the surreal feeling I'd been holding onto kind of slipped, and the reality of what I was about to do hit me a little. Especially when my mom started crying. We aren't a family that cries lightly and openly about things. I mean, if it's called for then it's not a big deal or anything, we just don't give in to it unless we have to. So it was a pretty emotional few minutes. Add to the fact that my 1 year old daughter, who can be seriously adorable when she puts her mind to it, could tell something was making her Mimi sad, so she kept giving her big, open-mouth kisses and smiling, making her sounds for "nice". It was kind of heart-wrenching, in a good way.
I managed to get the kids into the truck, and started down my road for the last time. My husband was following with the U-Haul, so I let the tears come for half a minute, let the reality settle in again that I was leaving everything I knew for new and uncharted lands. Well, new and uncharted for us at least.
But as I was leaving the old neighborhood, I turned that part off again and settled into "driving mode", focusing only on where I was going and what I was doing at that moment. Inconsequential details like speed limits, passing cars, and gas levels have a way of emptying the mind of everything else, allowing you to focus on only those things in front of you; a large part of the reason I love to drive-freedom to think as deeply or shallowly as one wishes.
After stopping for one last fill-up, and to stock up on some serious energy drinks, we hit the road in ernest, south and west, from sandy beaches and flat lands to trees and rivers winding down mountains.
The next 9.5 hours were mostly uneventful, unless you consider drinking a 5-Hour Energy Shot, a Red Bull, a tall french vanilla cappacino, and a can of Coke eventful. I'll tell you this, it was pretty eventful to my heart rate.
At a little after 6am, right about the time when I just knew I COULD NOT sit in the car and stare at lines on the road for ONE MORE MINUTE without completely, totally, absolutely FREAKING OUT and LOSING CONTROL, we drove up one last hill, and I literally let out a little gasp.
The sky was still very dark, although not as dark as it had been an hour before, and the air was a little foggy and damp with early morning. We crested the top of the hill and laid out in the valley before us, all dark windows and glowing yellow streetlights, was the town. It was an absolutely beautiful moment that I don't think I'll forget for a very long time. It was like driving into a story book, or a Norman Rockwell painting.
I only had a second to take it all in because, as it tends to in the mountains, as soon as we went up, we had to go back down, and right, and left, and up again. I like driving in the mountains because you never know what the next manuver is going to be.
Seeing the story-book village picture calmed me down a little bit and I was feeling a little more relaxed and able to make it the last 10 minutes to our new house. I was also feeling a little nauseous from drinking such a ridiculous amount of caffeine and eating nothing, so I was hoping it really was only ten minutes away.
As it turned out, it was two minutes less, and we were suddenly there; our new house.
Home.
The kids, in that way that kids seem to have, woke up as soon as I parked in the drive way, and gladly got out of their carseats to investigate the new place. After discovering that tile and wood floors combined with a complete lack of furniture, or anything else, made for great running/jumping/echoes, we left them to it and started unpacking.
I don't ever want to think about that part of the trip again, so if you don't mind, I'll just skip over it and go straight to my next favorite part.
After close to 36 hours with no shut-eye at all, I laid down in our familiar bed- in a new house, a new state, a new life-and went to sleep.
(Painting by K. Craft, used as the cover for one of my favorite books, The Book Of Atrix Wolfe.
Painting titled In the Forest of Peace)
Saturday, February 7, 2009
On Hold
Hey guys, the blogs are on hold for a little while, check out the details here :)
See you guys soon!!
See you guys soon!!
Friday, February 6, 2009
Completely Random
So I had some pretty crazy dreams last night, most of which I don't really remember. What I do remember is the dream I had where I was hanging out with Kristen Stewart at Josh Duhamel and Fergie's wedding. Oh, and I was a guest of Josh's, not Fergie's.....in fact, she wasn't even in my dream at all...which doesn't bother me in the least, because hanging out with Josh was way sweeter. He is so adorable, and it was an awesome dream! Me and Kristen went to a grocery store of some sort to get something they were out of, and I was acting a fool, and we were having a good time...
So anyways, it was a totally random, albeit awesome dream of which I spent most of the time staring at Josh Duhamel's completely adorable smile...
Sometimes I wonder about my own subconscious...
So anyways, it was a totally random, albeit awesome dream of which I spent most of the time staring at Josh Duhamel's completely adorable smile...
Sometimes I wonder about my own subconscious...
Josh Duhamel
Kristen Stewart
Kristen Stewart
Sunday, February 1, 2009
Just a Thought
It's funny how people catagorize other people. I personally have noticed people put me mostly into one of two categories:
1. Snobby, evil, sarcastic, bitchy, know-it-all. We'll call her Miss High & Mighty.
2. Smart, trustworthy to the extreme, loyal, secret-keep, a little crazy, in a quirky way. We'll call her Miss Moonlight, since I often say that I should moonlight as a therapist, at least then I'd get paid for it.
Now, Miss Moonlight and Miss H&M are totally different people. But rarely do people cross that line in their heads, and move me from one to the other. I'm not saying it's good or bad, it just is. I can see why people might think Miss H&M is who I really am. Sometimes, sometimes only mind you, I will purposely let them think that is who I am. Why? I am terrible at the whole social friendliness thing. I mean, I can fake it for a while like a champ, I am a star interview-ee for that quality. But if I'm not in the mood to do the fake nice thing, I don't. I don't want people who don't like me to act like they do? Why would I do that to them? I don't want to waste any time in my life around people like that, and I make a conscious effort to avoid ever having to. Miss H&M come in handy at those times.
Miss Moonlight, I would like to think, is closer to who I really am. I am a master secret-keeper; it's a known fact. And there's just something that makes people feel like they can really open up about anything to me, whether I've known them for five years or five hours. I really like that, but it's also kind of strange. Personally, I'm a very private person, so occasionally I'm surprised when relative strangers start pouring their hearts out. But generally, they seem more surpised by it than I am, like they can't believe they just told me that, and yet they can't seem to stop themselves. I appreciate that people feel that I am worthy enough a vessel for holding their deepest thoughts.
The few people who really know me would probably pick Miss In The Middle. She's the one with a basically optimistic outlook, occasionally idealistic, non-judgemental, opinionated, moody, loyal, sarcastic one who can be a blast to be around, or a real bitch, if I'm being espescially snarky.
I find myself a constant contradiction to myself. Which somehow is not surprising at all.
For more, go here :)
1. Snobby, evil, sarcastic, bitchy, know-it-all. We'll call her Miss High & Mighty.
2. Smart, trustworthy to the extreme, loyal, secret-keep, a little crazy, in a quirky way. We'll call her Miss Moonlight, since I often say that I should moonlight as a therapist, at least then I'd get paid for it.
Now, Miss Moonlight and Miss H&M are totally different people. But rarely do people cross that line in their heads, and move me from one to the other. I'm not saying it's good or bad, it just is. I can see why people might think Miss H&M is who I really am. Sometimes, sometimes only mind you, I will purposely let them think that is who I am. Why? I am terrible at the whole social friendliness thing. I mean, I can fake it for a while like a champ, I am a star interview-ee for that quality. But if I'm not in the mood to do the fake nice thing, I don't. I don't want people who don't like me to act like they do? Why would I do that to them? I don't want to waste any time in my life around people like that, and I make a conscious effort to avoid ever having to. Miss H&M come in handy at those times.
Miss Moonlight, I would like to think, is closer to who I really am. I am a master secret-keeper; it's a known fact. And there's just something that makes people feel like they can really open up about anything to me, whether I've known them for five years or five hours. I really like that, but it's also kind of strange. Personally, I'm a very private person, so occasionally I'm surprised when relative strangers start pouring their hearts out. But generally, they seem more surpised by it than I am, like they can't believe they just told me that, and yet they can't seem to stop themselves. I appreciate that people feel that I am worthy enough a vessel for holding their deepest thoughts.
The few people who really know me would probably pick Miss In The Middle. She's the one with a basically optimistic outlook, occasionally idealistic, non-judgemental, opinionated, moody, loyal, sarcastic one who can be a blast to be around, or a real bitch, if I'm being espescially snarky.
I find myself a constant contradiction to myself. Which somehow is not surprising at all.
For more, go here :)
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