Just Because You Asked So Nicely....

I really like the name "St. Valentine's Day Massacre 2006" for the CD. However, when writing down all the songs I realized something. The songs start out kind of easy going, then they build to bone crushing hate-filled rock, then they ease back down again.

A parabola, if you will.

A PARABOLA OF PAIN!

I think I am going to call this CD just that - "The Parabola of Pain".

What do you think?

And since everyone seems to love this idea, and I don't have a way to mail all my internet friends a CD for Valentine's Day.... here are the songs. You can burn one yourself! So, without further ado, I give you

The Parabola of Pain Volume 1

1. By Myself - Greg Brown
2. White Wedding - Billy Idol
3. Shut Up - Black Eyed Peas
4. It Aint Over Till It's Over - Lenny Kravitz
5. Gimme, Gimme, Gimme (A Man After Midnight) - ABBA
6. You Oughtta Know - Alanis Morrisette
7. The First Cut Is The Deepest - Rod Stewart
8. Love Is A Battlefield - Pat Benatar
9. I Hate Myself For Lovin' You - Joan Jet
10. I Did It All For the Nookie - Limp Bizkit
11. In and Outta Love - Bon Jovi
12. Brave and Crazy - Melissa Etheridge
13. You're So Vain - Janet Jackson with Carly Simon
14. Love Song - The Cure
15. Unchained Melody - The Righteous Brothers
16. Spring Will Be A Little Late This Year - Sarah Vahaugn
17. Lady Sings the Blues - Billie Holiday

And maybe I misspelled some names in the above list. But I don't care. I'm all hard-core like that.

I Did it All For the Nookie

I spent much of the weekend compiling a "St. Valentine's Day Massacre - 2006" CD as a Valentine's Day gift for my friends. I really don't like this holiday much. One of my best Valentines Days involved receiving a Valentine in the mail. From a gay man. Postage due.

I am not making that up.

The rest of the year I am an incredibly upbeat, cup half-full, resist-all-things negative type of gal. This is the one day that I let it all out. Any negativity, bitterness, scorn or hate that I have saved up I let out on this day. I even have an outfit for the occasion. I have an adorable pink Old Navy t-shirt with a red heart on it. I have drawn a circle and slash over it with a Black Sharpie marker. The rest of my outfit I make sure is all black.

Like my heart.

My compilation CD is quite an eclectic mix. It includes Billy Holiday (Lady Sings the Blues), Limp Bizkit (I Did It All For the Nookie), Joan Jet (I Hate Myself For Loving You), Rod Stewart (The First Cut is the Deepest), and MORE!

Anika and Janie - you are getting one! I am not leaving everyone else out, it's just that I only know Anika and Janie's address. You know, 'cause I stalked them.

My Life As a Movie

The Movie Of Your Life Is An Indie Flick

You do things your own way - and it's made for colorful times.Your life hasn't turned out how anyone expected, thank goodness! Your best movie matches: Clerks, Garden State, Napoleon Dynamite

If Your Life Was a Movie, What Genre Would It Be?

The Forgotten Weekend

There are a few pictures that I forgot to post for the "What We Did Last Weekend" - two weekends ago.

It was a good weekend and really deserved the timely glory that other weekends have received. I am sorry, two-week-old weekend. Forgive me.

The girls and I decided to drive all of two miles to the neighboring town, Sumner. It has a great Main Street with wonderful little shops full of antiques and toys and grapefruity smelling lotion. (They were after the toys, and I was after grapefruity lotion. None of us actually buy antiques.)

There is a specific little cafe - the Berryland Cafe- where we like to have lunch. It is small and bustling and no-nonsense and serves really great breakfast all day. It is also so old that it is kind of lopsided and you slide a little bit in the slick booth-style seating. This is one of the things I like best about it.

I took the following two pictures of the girls there. I sorta wanted pictures of them, but really wanted to capture - while looking like I was not trying to capture - both the horrendous lighted train display hanging on the wall and the old grumpy man seated behind them. I was not paying very close attention to the girls and....well....it shows.

Is it just me, or do you love a place where you can get your soda in a can with a straw?

This is just a random picture of the girls playing piano that same weekend. They seem to have a good grasp of the dramatic. They were piano-playing vampires. With one of the settings on the piano having really scary noises, it seemed pretty realistic.

Can this weekend even hold a candle? We shall see.

I Admit It....I Test On Animals

Maya is starting her Science Fair project. This is the first year that she is required to do one, therefore it is the first year that she has done one. I don't believe in excessive overachieving. There's enough pressure later on in life. No need to freak a first or second grader out over nothing.

So anyway, we were brainstorming the other night over testable scientific questions. We went back and forth with many ideas. I finally just asked her to choose a subject that she really, really enjoys studying. I was sure it would be volcanoes. She is fascinated with them. (It could be because we live right underneath one and actually have an evacuation plan that is taught in schools in case of eruption......but I digress).

So, she said, "I love my guinea pigs!"

A slow smile spread over my face.

Is there anything funnier and more appropriate (or inappropriate depending on your views) that using a GUINEA PIG in a science experiment?!

I think not.

Her Science Fair project is officially, "What fruit or vegetable do guinea pigs like best?" She is doing this all on her own - keeping a scientific journal, testing a different food every night, measuring the amount of time it takes her guinea pig to cross the floor to the food..... it's fantastic. I will share some of her journal entries with you soon.

experiment #1 - broccoli

Um, it took him approximately 8 minutes to get the three feet to the broccoli - and after testing cucumber, apple and tomato - broccoli is on top as his favorite.

Maya is also finding out in her experimentation that guinea pigs are also slow and (I hate to say it) relatively unintelligent.

Hurray for Science! This is fun.

And Then I Read This....

After posting the last entry, I go to read my horror-scope and find this.....

Recent frustrations regarding your love life will vanish if you take the time to examine attitudes that are holding you back -- and implement some ways to get rid of them. Move! -

My Motto: Question Everything, Decide on Nothing

I have been tagged by Anika and Melissa.in.london with the "8 Traits of my Perfect Partner" tag. Now, I understand that many, if not all of you, can bust this bad boy out in a few minutes and go on with your life. But due to my "issues" relating to this particular subject and a few things that have happened in the last few days, I am now confused and irritated and I am going to tell you why.

I woke up this morning in the middle of a dream I can't really remember, but I sat straight up in bed saying, ,"You love me? Then why I am here alone?" Literally. I said that out loud. And the strangest thing is that I really believe that I love being alone. I have always been miserable in relationships. Granted, the first 4-8 months is divine. It always is. The misery sets in sooner or later, though.

But when something happens like that in my subconscious mind, I have to wonder -am I really happy? Do I really want to be alone? Maybe I am just kidding myself with all this "I'm fine by myself, I prefer it" talk.

The thing is this. Of course I would love to be in love. Who wouldn't? It's a great feeling. But when you know what happens after the initial joy wears off, why would you not avoid it? And yes, I do believe that love can be forever. But only rarely. It's the lottery of love concept that I wrote about here.

And, I consider myself heterosexual, but I also firmly believe that if you draw that lottery ticket of love - you don't get to choose what sex the other person is. So the traits listed below would apply to either sex, I suppose.

So. 8 Traits of my Perfect Partner

Logically speaking, they would be:

1. Funny.
2. Able to look fear in the face and laugh.
3. Totally in control of their life, but no interest in controlling mine.
4. Kind.
5. Insanely curious.
6. Smart, but not really know it.
7. Logical in their emotions.
8. A secret romantic.

And illogically speaking, they would be:

1. In the kind of love with me that their heart hurts a little bit when they didn't know where I am, but know better than to call me or check on me all the time - because well, that's just irritating.
2. Smiling all the time for no - or any- reason.
3. The type of person who would never in a million years tell everyone how much they loved me (even me, most of the time), but it would be so apparent that it needn't be said anyway.
4. Someone who could tell the difference between me-just-being-me and me-secretly-freaking-out-under-the-ruse-of-me-just-being-me.
5. Not get their feelings hurt if I wanted to spend time alone or time alone with my girls. Sometimes a lot of time.
6. The person who would never say bad things about me to their friends or co-workers because they knew even if they were thinking bad things at that particular moment that deep down they loved me anyway.
7. Willing to give that whole "here for life" thing a good honest try.
8. Forgiving.

So there. That's all I have to say about that.

What We Did This Weekend

On Saturday I hosted a Rave for 6-8 year olds.

Well, actually no I didn't. It was monthly game night, I hosted this month. We played a rousing game of Canasta. A game I have never, ever won. Since I have white hair now you would think I would be better at old people's games. I am not.

On Sunday we had our first sunny day after continuous rain for 36 days. I am not kidding. Seattle had their continuous rain interupted at 28 days, but luckily enough I live a bit farther south and we broke the previous record of 33 days, set in 1958.

I don't exactly know why she is standing like that. Helps her concentrate I guess.

Sophie almost got smacked down by a little remote control flying airplane. Right after the near-fatal attack, it got stuck in the top of a tree. If you click on the picture you can see the little boy's Dad climbing up the tree right in the middle (look for his red shirt). He actually got the plane out finally. The engine was still running.

I had a few other pictures but Blogger has decided that this is all for now.

Trivial Pursuit

I wasn't going to do this, I was going to concentrate on my work and blogging a real blog-ish type entry. But, thanks to Jerk and Anika, I got roped in. The only things that are true in the following list are number 1 and number 10. I can grow three feet in a split second when I'm mad, and a fresh Shari WILL float.

Ten Top Trivia Tips about Shari!

1. To check whether shari is safe to eat, drop her in a bowl of water; rotten shari will sink, and fresh shari will float.
2. It takes 8 minutes for light to travel from the Sun's surface to shari.
3. Shari never said 'Play it again, Sam'.
4. When shari is swallowed, she will enter the blood stream within twenty minutes!
5. Fifty-two percent of Americans drink shari.
6. Human beings are the only animals that copulate while facing shari!
7. Only one child in twenty will be born on the day predicted by shari.
8. Astronauts get taller when they are in shari.
9. A cluster of bananas is called a hand and consists of 10 to 20 bananas, which are individually known as shari!
10. Shari can grow up to three feet in a 24 hour period!

I am interested in - do tell me aboutherhimitthem

The Secret

I have been waiting for years for this moment.

But, before I tell you exactly what has happened, I need to give you a little background.

I highly admire both my Grandmothers (they are both gone now). Grammy, my maternal grandmother, was a kick. She had shocking white hair that was never out of place. She ALWAYS wore high heels. In her 60's her job was driving a semi-truck across the United States - hauling oranges, onions, etc....in her heels, no less (and much to my Mother's consternation, was dating an ex-con during that time). She was an outspoken Democrat who ran for Montana senate and lobbied for Senior Citizens.

My paternal Grandma Thelma couldn't have been more different. She was the heart of our family ranch. She cooked sourdough waffles every morning, had jars full of cookies at all times, cooked for hired hands, handled all the accounting, collected any and all things of interest to local history..... it goes on and on. She liked her position of power just as well as Grammy did, except she wielded her power from behind the scenes.

Not many people are lucky enough to be raised around such powerful, intelligent women. And to see it from both sides is something that had deeply affected my life.

Grammy would stand on her head for at least one minute every day. You could walk into a room and see her perfectly straight and rigid form, heeled feet perfectly pointing at the ceiling. After a few moments, she would slowly return to the upright, pat her coif of white, and continue with her life as if nothing strange had happened.

Grandma was not quite as healthy or active. She had bad knees and used a wheelchair at the end of her life to do the majority of moving around for her. When I lived with her in my early 20's it was one of my greatest pleasures to comb out her waist length white hair. She would sit and tell me stories as I combed, then braided, and wound the braid into a bun, just like she liked it. With her hair down she looked so different. It was such a private thing to see her like that.

I found my first white hair two days ago.

I have secretly and fervently prayed to all the deities that I know for years that I would have white hair like my grandmothers'. My Dad had grey hair. My Mom has grey hair. I was worried.

But it's white. Shockingly, glaringly, unapologetically white.

And I am thrilled.

This One Really Takes the Pie

I have been busy, oh so very busy. Have you all gone? Will you come back if I blog regularly?

My sister sent me a great email with mixed metaphors from an ACTUAL person that she works with. The list is incredible. It makes me happy.

I love the mixed metaphor.

Thanks Shan for making this entry easy for me. (But do know, dear readers that remain, I have a huge secret that I am currently blogging about...... it's a biggie.)


Please do not share with my name attached.
My heart just bleeds peanut butter for you.
I went fishing and we caught 11 trout, there were 5 of us, we caught 4 each.
I've been running around like a chicken with its legs chopped off.
It's a stop gate measure.
There are some costs associated with saving.
The judge is still out on this.
Solar ellipse
I'm going to throw my hat in the fire.
like a chinaman in a bull shop
They agreed annually to send it out annually.
There are a lot of drawbacks, some good, some bad.
Quid pro pro
It's a step in the door.
We'll have to get down in the weeds to see the big picture.
That's a big cash cow, man.
1/2 of 1, 6 dozen to the other
Bandmyth (talking about McMurdo's internet band width issues)
seariated (blade)
1/2 the time I do not know and the other 25% I do…
Bush didn't go there with a purpose, he had a reason.
I can speak totally canned (candidly) with him.
pacificaly (specifically)
We will do every bit of our level effort.
midigule (miniscule)
I looked up the value of my car in the Kelly "Low" Book
the dog waggin the tail
ting-ching ($)
differcult and differculty
sal lo vee (c'est la vie)
Adjakent
sata off the datallite
We build an ice runway every year annually.
The old silver bullet (rectal thermometer)
Mailed the check in (died)
coming and going like flies
thinking about this out of the box
sub-septable
I have asked to my hearts content
we were right on the razor's knife
deplenished
recaveat
reinerate (reiterate)
He is the exicutioner for his folks' will.
Terbalance (turbulance)
can't make this crew dog drink water
Water can flow more than one way around a bridge
nitgritty
We need to sit down and walk through this.
Arraignment (arrangement)
A day short and a dollar late.
More than carter little liver pills can shake fleas at
two birds in one stone
Does this fish have a tail?
I'm going to get right between the middle.
Do you know what gets my goat going?
Put our level heads together
sis and deceased
They pay for what they get
If I had teeth they would bite me
terma frost (perma frost)
terma firma (terra firma)
Migate (mitigate)
pilferageing
She can make a mountain out of a spreadsheet.
longth (length)
extetics (esthetics)



And on a totally unrelated topic... She sent this cool picture taken by someone on a dive team down there. An Antartic jellyfish (that just doesn't seem possible).

Chicken Story Update

Yesterday I was irritated because blogger would not post my pictures that I wanted to go along with the story. So... Here they are....

This is almost exactly what the evil Rocky the Rooster looked like.

These are the spurs to which I referred. I still have two perfectly round scars in my upper right thigh to prove the level of danger that they pose.

What We Did This Weekend!

Um...Yep. That about sums it up!

Which Came First?

I eat a lot of chicken. This is not a mistake.

I hate chickens, all chickens - hens, roosters, maybe not so much the little fuzzy chicks – but I hate what they will eventually become. I do have a good reason. It’s not like I’m coming right out and just hating them for hate’s sake.

You see, my brother used to lock me in the chicken house.

I grew up in a very rural area of Montana, on a ranch, and 26 miles from the town where we actually went to school. It was a bit remote. So it was a happy day when friends would actually make the trek out to visit us. It involved some planning. As I recall, all of us siblings were very protective of our alone time with our friends.

My brother had a few friends that I absolutely loved being around. Jeff was the hottie. Todd and Tim were the rough and tumble type. “Jim” (because I can’t for the life of me remember his name right now) was brainy and always inventing things. Since my friends were the barn cats and Erik was 5 years older than me, I was drawn to the excitement of Erik and his adventurous buddies.

I admit it. I stalked them. I got in their way. I probably really irritated all of them with my incessant giggling.

There were a few things Erik would do to get rid of me. Both seemed to work incredibly well.

The first was to tie me with twine to a fence post. I have to admit, he gave me a fighting chance. He would bind my hands behind me with the plastic twine BUT he would give me a dull jackknife with which I would painstakingly saw back and forth across the twine that encircled my wrists. (Yes, sawing with a jack knife, directly on my wrists, with no visual. The jack knife was VERY dull – I never once cut myself) More often than not I would eventually drop the knife and spend the afternoon in the hot sun, tied to a fence in the middle of a deserted corral.

The second tactic was to play upon a much more fearful possibility. You see, I didn’t hate chickens because I was locked in with them. The hate came first. (You are, I’m sure familiar with the age old question – Which came first the chicken imprisonment or the hatred of all things chicken?)

We had a rooster named Rocky. He was the embodiment of all things evil. He would see you, squint his eyes a little bit (I swear), and come running after you with the willful intent to cause great bodily damage. Roosters have these things on the back of their feet called spurs. Spurs are basically a long, sharp claw like thing that they use for defense. Rocky however made the switch to offensive spur usage.

Oh, he was scary.

So, when Erik would lock me in the chicken house, I would also be locked in with Rocky. They layout of the chicken house was this…

There was a small room that was enclosed. One wall had a small door (about 2x2 feet) that could be opened out into a fenced in enclosure. The top of this enclosure was also fenced, but it did have a wire trap door where you could crawl out the top and onto the roof of the enclosed chicken house.

I would get locked into the first house with the chickens. It was dark and dusty and smelled terrible. Chickens would cluck in the dark recesses. Rocky would stealthily pace back and forth idarknessky darkeness, just out of site. I knew my only escape was the small door leading out into the wire enclosure.

But, there was one problem.

To crawl out this door, one must leave one's.....um....posterior exposed to Rocky's spurs. A successful escape involved speed and agility. And many times screaming and crying. I made it every time. Almost.

He did get me in the upper thigh the last time. He left two deep blood-seeping wounds. I ran crying and screaming to my babysitter Lisa. She could do anything. She stalked down to the chicken house with a 5 gallon stainless steel bucket and a huge nail, plunked the bucket over Rocky, and banged and banged until a reeling rooster staggered out. He was going to do no harm for awhile.

Only a few days later, Rocky was kicked by our horse, Bitsy. He didn't make it long.

And I was not sad.

Now, don't be mad at Erik. He was only "using his imagination" in coming up with ways to get me to leave them alone. If anything....

Eat more chicken.

Join me in the fight to eradicate all chickenish poultry from the planet!

I Know I Have Been Terrible....

I really will get back to regular postings. I swear I will. The learning curve on this new job is a bit steep. Good....but steep.

Oh, guess what! I work for the company ranked number 9 in Fortune's Best Companies to Work For! I think we should be higher.

Do any of you love the company that you work for? Is it just me? I am really lucky.

Anyway, keep your eyes peeled for a post about what we did this weekend, and a little story about why I detest chickens....

It's Such A Good Day

I got it! I got it!

I have officially triumphed over the evil-busboy-Chinese-restaurant-thief-who-I-still-hate-with-all-my-heart!

But it was dark and I nothing really exciting to take pictures of.....

The new piano keyboard thingy is on the left. Sophie's "expensive" easel on the right.

Sophies first painting done on her new easel. The house is not frowning. I asked her. It is a decoration.

Thanks Shannon!

You do know what this means don't you? Back to the "What We Did This Weekend" posts. Not...."What We Did This Weekend 2.0".

I'm sure you are just as excited as I am!

My Worst Week Ever

Just so you know, the title does not refer to me.

I know you were worried.

I have been incredibly busy with closing out my old job and readying it for the person coming in, and training for my new one. But thankfully, Maya brought home her first essay yesterday. She worked on it at school the whole month of December. She is quite the writer for a third grader.

So without further ado, my guest blogger - Maya.

My Worst Week Ever

by Maya

Tug! Tug! that's the sound of my hair being brushed. I will never forget the week that I got my big nots. I was just getting into bed and the next morning boom my hair was all tangled up. It was a huge mess. I brushed and comb, but I couldn't get it out! Then my Mom came in and tried to help me but we still couldn't get it out!

It was hard to get all of my nots out. It took us 1 hour. I was really tired and I went right to bed. When I woke up it was night time. I went right back to sleep. The next morning my hair was the same way it was! So we had to brush out my hair again. When I looked in the mirror my hair was sticking strait out. I had to go to school with my hair like that. My friends thought it was funny. But I didn't think it was funny. It was so bad I didn't want to look at my self again. When I went inside my class mates stared at me. I was inbarist.

After the hard day at school i went home and played with my toys. When I had to go to bed we put something in my hair to keep it from frizzing. Do you know what it was?

The End

Let me just add my side of the story.....

Two years ago Maya decided that she no longer would allow me to brush her hair. She freaked every time I tried. I tried to get her to use conditioner and anti-frizz stuff to help her get her hair untangled, but she would have nothing to do with it....or me. ("...and boom! My hair was all tangled up..." my *ss!)

So, I threw down the gauntlet. I would no longer help her. She would just have to go to school with her hair as she was able to fix it.

And, yes. It was a bad week.

Interesting how she left out her refusal of help isn't it?

Well, it obviously stuck with her. I hope with no lasting scars. She fixes her hair beautifully now (and religiously uses conditioners and anti-frizz stuff).