the round of life Archives | Page 19 of 29
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Saturday, August 21, 2004
a girl's first pair of high-heeled shoes
You know what I have never had, and what I just got a craving for? A pair of really high-heeled shoes. The highest I have ever owned are standard, what, 2 1/2" pumps. There are a lot of reasons I've never had anything higher than that. (ooh! goody! a list!)
- I don't like my feet and I suppose I never wanted to draw attention to them.
- The pumps I have had have hurt plenty enough at their modest height, thankyouverymuch.
- I am already dang well tall enough. I think my addiction to flats started in junior high when I already towered over all the boys by at least two inches. (this would still be... interesting ... since T is only two inches taller than me. In a four-inch heel I'd be taller than him. Interesting dynamic, maybe, in the right mood...?)
- I have never been the sexy-high-heels type. I'm more the Everymom type. T gets really excited when I put on slacks and a blouse. I am not sure he could handle something that was actually, you know, sexy, especially in public. It would be interesting to try, though. ;-)
However. For some unknown reason, today I decided that my next pair of dress shoes will be my first pair of high heels. Maybe... red ones. Wow. Am I fifteen?
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Friday, August 20, 2004
well, I got better...
First of all I need to point out that this is my fourth entry today. Don't miss the previous exciting episodes of Blissful Contentment. Yours FREE, no purchase necessary, for a limited time only (well, except for that "limited" part). Today, as my loyal reader might remember, started out at about a 9.8 on the suckiness scale; it has improved until I don't even want to maim anybody anymore. Wow. Who'd have thought. Also, if the title of this post makes you think of newts, you are my new hero.
Tonight I went to the valley to get a birthday present for my dad, and a few little miscellaneous things. Of course, this meant WAL-MART. Wal-Mart is the crown jewel of the miscellaneous. I got: cereal, a fishing pole, feminine hygiene supplies, teabags, cat food, and laundry stuff. And I didn't even scratch the surface. I have always thought it should be some kind of late-night college-kids' game, where you have to go to Wal-Mart and whoever spends a certain amount of money and comes out with the most diverse selection wins the prize. Another great game would be the Dollar Store Bizarreness Challenge -- my friend Jenn and I thought this up while we were in the 99c store over the weekend. It's simple, whoever buys the strangest thing in the dollar store wins. That late-at-night slap-happy feeling makes these games much more fun.
After I shopped, I went to Panda Express. Panda Express always sucks me in when I'm in the city alone and need to eat. I'll think I'm going somewhere else, but when I drive by it traps me in its patented Kung Pau Chicken tractor beam and before I even realize it I'm standing at the counter saying, "Two-entrées, packed to go [in case of leftovers], chow mein noodles, kung pao chicken, black pepper chicken, thank you." I have to get hot, spicy things there because when your mouth is on fire, you don't notice that you're drinking (blecch) Diet Pepsi. Until the fire subsides, and you're driving out of the parking lot with just a few wisps of dragonish smoke coming out of your nostrils, and you take a sip from your to-go cup and almost spew because finally you realize that you've been consuming carbonated paint thinner. Oh well. No place is perfect. Not even Panda Express.
On the way home, since I was alone in the car, I tested the limits of our stereo system once more, this time discovering that volume level 27 is absolutely perfect for the Winter section of Vivaldi's "Four Seasons." The cellos go right through to your spine. You all should try it.
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Friday, July 09, 2004
random music-related bits
It has been very nearly a full week since my last update. I have not been flung off the face of the earth by some inexplicable localized gravitational lapse. Nor have I been kidnapped or had my fingers cut off or (gasp) given up my LTL. I have just been, well, busy. Weird. And today's post won't be anything to write home about either, but here it is for what it's worth.
Yesterday I was driving alone in my car, so I was of course blasting the stereo really loud because I'm all mature like that. So what if I was blasting classical music, OK? (in the loose sense. Most if it was actually twentieth-century or romantic and not classical, if you want to get specific) Anyway, for a reason I won't go into, I was fast-forwarding the CD through Copland's "Fanfare for the Common Man." Surprisingly enough, the reason was not my vitreous hatred of Aaron Copland, which runs very deep thanks to his extremely annoying choral arrangements. "Fanfare" is a pretty cool-sounding composition, but it still doesn't get Copland off my bad side. AN-Y-WAY. I was cueing through the song and it sounded extremely cool. It sounded like 80's techno synthesizer music, as if "Axel F" had been written and performed by some European group with pointy hairstyles and lots of makeup. In other words, it rocked, in an I-shouldn't-be-admitting-I-like-this kind of way.
In other music news, I was just reading someone else's diary, and she said that her weekend was lame, and then she typed these words: "I blame it on the rain." So now guess what late 80's dreadlock-wearing lip-synchers are hip-hopping around in my head, and will be for a week? I'm sure Emily didn't do it on purpose. She could never be so cruel. Right?
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Saturday, June 26, 2004
a really, really nice Saturday
This is like the third or fourth weekend in a row that has just been fantastic. Today I made some playdough, mailed some packages (heads up, Susan and girls, including beautiful wee new Abigail, oh now I'm getting all clucky again, must move on), and went to the library, and then we went to a birthday party for one of my nieces (sort of), which culminated in the (large) group of us pretty much taking over the county pool. We had a great time. C (who is, for those of you who are new to blissful contentment -- hi! by the way -- 4 years old) wanted to jump off the diving board. Of course, since C's "swimming" consists of floating on her face and gently waving her arms, which propels her, um, not at all (as soon as she kicks, she sinks -- I really hope those swimming lessons she starts on Monday will do her some good), she couldn't do the diving board thing, but she DID dive(!) off the side of the pool and learn to do cannonballs -- with me there to catch her, of course. Even LT jumped off the side and showed off his new swimming-lesson skills. Then we went home and I crashed, because I am like a child that way. Put me in the sun and the water and as soon as I get out I want to go to sleep. C inherited this trait from me, apparently; when I woke up she was asleep on the couch in front of "Mary Poppins", looking like a baby angel with chlorinated hair. The boys were playing Legos, building a quite respectable model of Minas Tirith, which they've been plotting for weeks. I made tacos for supper and milkshakes for dessert; we watched "The Great Muppet Caper," during which T explained who was whom for me since I was more a Fraggle Rock type when I was little, and now everyone's ready for bed. Including me -- in a very happy way, it feels like it's been three days since I got up this morning. :)
Sunday, June 20, 2004
Ooh! They're playing the Cure!!
The Internet has provided me with yet another reason to never get anything done. (I think, if I haven't lost count somewhere along the line, that this is reason number five hundred and thirty-four). This new reason is that Yahoo Launch thing where you make your own freaking radio station. HOW totally cool is that, and why have I never done it before? This is only the kind of thing I have fantasized about since I was, oh, ten. I have always been a fan of radio -- all that music just coming to your ears for free, and you never know what's coming next, but if you find a good station or are open-minded it's a very happy thing. Then when I was an early teen the idea of "cable radio" was invented, and oh, I wanted it. No ads, no static, and a bazillion different genres to choose from. I never did get it. Also, just recently, the new stereo we put in our car when its stock one died is satellite-radio ready, and I'm just biding my time waiting to be able to spend the money to get that. I don't listen to the radio much anymore, except for talk radio, because I can't seem to find a station that fits my kinks; they either play too much heavy stuff or too much foul stuff or too much crappy new "country" or what have you. But now... my own radio station. I am fourteen again, and my IM conversations are peppered with "ooh! they're playing xxxx!" just like the letters I used to write to my friends in black fine-tip marker on peach-colored paper, with big circles for dots on the i's, and fold into ornate triangles or rectangles with a "pull here" tab.
Oooh! Now it's the new Alanis song!
Friday, June 11, 2004
june weather, and sticky songs
Note: Due to Diaryland zaniness which has caused this post from yesterday to disappear into the great Internet void, I am reposting it. Now watch, all FIVE copies of this that I tried to post yesterday will magically appear.
It is crazy but nice. It is June. JUNE! High school graduation is tonight! But it is one of those days where it's warm, but it's too cold inside with the cooler on. I just went for a walk with my daughter and we didn't die of heat exhaustion. It's barely eighty degrees outside and I am loving every minute of it.
I am finding in reading other people's journals that the practice of deliberately humming or speaking a few bars of a particularly nauseatingly mind-sticky song, in order to cause one's friends to narrowly escape spontaneous combustion caused but the suppression of the HUMMING, is not limited to myself, my husband, and my high-school friends. I remember one song in particular, by Suzanne Vega, called, what, "Tom's Diner", or something? with this line that went "There's a woman On the outside Looking inside Does she see me? No she does not Really see me Cause she sees Her own reflection" -- and the tune was SO repetitive, it was insane. All I had to do to torture my then-boyfriend and his mullet-laden brother was to hum ONE SINGLE RIFF of that tune and they would be incapacitated for days.
You're welcome, by the way.
And so now it's your turn to get me back. What song do you use to torture your friends? Or to torture yourself? The comments section is open. Extra points if you can link to a sample. :)
Thursday, June 10, 2004
pearls slipping off a string
If and only if (I was going to abbreviate that the way we did in algebra class, as "iff", but I thought that would just look like a typo, and what if we were the only ones to do it that way and then I looked really REALLY stupid. So. If and ONLY if) you have a half-hour or so to waste right now (like I didn't, but oh well), go here and browse through RetroCrush's 50 Greatest Song Parts collection. What a cool idea. I have to say, though, that there's a part of Rossini's William Tell Overture (and if you want me to adore you for life, it's easy; just don't call this "the Lone Ranger theme". I know it's hard to resist. But please. It's not as bad as "Rhapsody in Blue" being known as "the United Airlines theme," because at least the Lone Ranger is kind of an icon in and of himself, but still) which would, in my opinion, blow ALL their song parts completely out of the water. (that sounds graphic and vaguely bloody.) Unfortunately without lyrics I can't just tell you which part. You'll just have to listen to the finale and form your own opinion. :)
I am having a series of nice days, which is such a pleasant change from the series of crappy days I seemed to have been stuck in for a while, a few weeks ago. I'm reminded of an L.M. Montgomery book with a line about "days following one another like pearls slipping off a string;" that's exactly what my week has been like. Just ordinary things, nothing worth journaling about, but a blessing all the same -- the kids are loving and cooperative; I'm happy even though I am thoroughly ticked off at my good old womanly parts; even money stresses etc. haven't dampened my serene outlook. I've been reading good books (speaking of L.M. Montgomery, I'm reading the EMilies for the first time in years and enjoying them more than I ever did before), getting some crocheting done, doing a little housework and laundry, eating sanely but not terribly restrictively... you know. Good times.
Now we'll see, since I've made a note of how calm everything is, if tomorrow everything hits the fan. Gee, what a fun experiment.
And for your further journal edification, here is a survey about online journaling. Or blogging. Or diary-ing. Or whatever the heck you want to call it. ahem. Anyway.
Do you try to look hot when you go to the grocery store just in case someone recognizes you from your blog?
Um, no. Chances are totally nil that anyone in my town who doesn't already know me, would have a clue about me from my blog.
Are the photos you post Photoshopped or otherwise altered?
No, I just pick pictures where I think I look OK.
Do you like it when creeps or dorks email you?
Never happened.
Do you lie in your blog?
No. But I consciously leave stuff out.
Are you passive-aggressive in your blog?
I don�t think so.
Do you ever threaten to quit writing so people will tell you not to stop?
No. I hate that manipulative stuff.
Are you in therapy? If not, should you be? If so, is it helping?
I am not in therapy.
Do you delete mean comments? Do you fake nice ones?
I have deleted a few rude ones.
If your readers knew you in person, would they like you more or like you less?
Less. Clumsiness and social awkwardness are endearing in print. In person, not so much.
Do you have a job?
No.
If someone offered you a decent salary to blog full-time without restrictions, would you do it?
I wouldn't begin to know what to write about that much. So no.
Which blogger do you want to meet in real life?
hmm... sundry, Dusty (porktornado), mom-on-roof, rdhdprincess. Except that I would be so totally intimidated by them.
Does your family read your blog?
My sister-in-law does. My mom's read one entry but I don't think she's read anything since. My husband reads it occasionally.
How old is your blog?
Not quite a year.
Do you get more than 1000 pageviews per day? Do you care?
Not even NEAR that. Does anyone, other than the celebrity bloggers? And no, I don't care. I write for myself mostly; while the possibility of someone else reading it is what makes me keep writing (as opposed to abandoning it like I always have my paper diaries), I really don't care how many people do. It's just the possibility of it.
Do you have another secret blog in which you write about being depressed, slutty, or a liar?
Well, not about those things exactly, but I do have one that nobody who knows me knows about. Except now they know about it... but they still don't know where it is.
Have you ever given another blogger money for his/her writing?
No.
Is blogging narcissistic?
To a degree, yes.
Do you feel guilty when you don't post for a long time?
Yes. Especially if the most recent entry is stupid.
Do you have enemies?
Not that I know of.
Are you lonely?
For adult female conversation, sometimes.
Why bother?
It's an interesting way to keep track of what I do and share it with other people.
Sunday, June 06, 2004
a real weekend
Ahh, finally, a weekend that felt like a weekend. It is so nice (and rare) when our family is together for all of both days and we (especially T, because really, other than the fact that he's home and we don't have sit-down school, weekends are pretty much like any other day for the kids and me) can really feel recharged on Sunday night. We went fishing on Saturday morning (which means T and the kids fished, and I read a book; both kids caught the first fish of their lives almost as soon as they put their hooks in the water); we had LT's friend here pretty much all day Saturday; I fried the fish for dinner and they were actually edible. Today we went to a flea market, and then T's back went berserk so we turned around and came home before we got to church, and lazed around all day. GOOD TIMES, oh yeah.
I'm really not feeling terribly creative or funny at ALL tonight; I can't think of a single witty thing to say. (I can hear you asking, and that is different because....?). So here, in lieu of a genuine entry, is yet. another. survey. Because I am such a sucker for them. At least with this one I deleted the questions I've answered a gazillion times. :)
Can you roll your tongue? Yes.
Can you raise one eyebrow? Sort of.
Can you blow spit bubbles? Um, ew? I could in first grade; haven't tried since.
Can you cross your eyes? Yes. But I couldn't until after I got glasses in junior high and my left eye got stronger.
Do you make your bed daily? Most days. T and I have a joke/ritual where if he comes home and I've made the bed he has to kiss me my favorite way (which means with his hands on the sides of my head under my hair; I jokingly call it a "trash novel kiss" because as a preteen I read more than my share of Silhouette romances and the heroines were always being "held motionless with no pressure" by the heroes, for kisses in this style).
Which shoe goes on first? I never noticed until just now, but I do put on my right shoe first almost every time, now that I think of it.
Speaking of shoes, have you ever thrown one at anyone? I don't think I've thrown shoes but I've thrown other stuff. And not AT people. At walls generally.
On the average, how much money do you carry in your wallet? MAYBE some change. I am so awful about NEVER carrying cash unless I have a specific reason to.
What jewelry do you wear 24/7? My wedding ring.
Favorite outfit for everyday? My No-panty-lines underwear, Eddie Bauer TALL jeans, white satin bra, and either a white button-down blouse or a shaped t-shirt.
Do you twirl your spaghetti or cut it? Twirl.
Have you ever eaten Spam? Plenty of times but not recently. My mom fries it for breakfast pretty regularly.
How many cereals in your cabinet? About 5.
Favorite fast food, other than The Big Two? Panda Express
Do you cook? All. The. Time.
How often do you brush your teeth? Usually twice a day.
Hair drying method? Towel and then air dry.
Have you ever colored/highlighted your hair? I used to do this a lot, from the time I was about 18 until I was 25. Then I started letting it grow out so I haven't colored it in years -- it's in sad enough shape as it is.
Do you swear? No.
Do you ever spit? Well, "ever" is a big word. If I have something foreign in my mouth, like say a bug, then yes. But not recreationally.
-- WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE --
Animal? Horses. I'm like a ten-year-old girl about horses. Well, not QUITE.
Shoe Brand? The ones that are on sale at Big 5. For dress shoes, Payless, baby.
Way to eat eggs? In an omelet.
Thing to do in the spring? sit outside in my porch swing and enjoy the weather
Thing to do in the summer? swim, and hang clothes on the line
Thing to do in the fall? wear red sweaters and eat apples
Thing to do in the winter? Sit inside by the fire and read.
Children's book? hmm... I like a lot of kid lit and even a good number of picture books. Probably, though, Curious George Flies a Kite is my favorite -- I think that's the one with the baby bunny and the little bird that says, "Bad monkey!" which always makes my husband and me smile.
Thing to order at Denny's? Garlic mushroom swiss burger. YUM.
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Person you talk most on the phone with? T at work, closely followed by my dad, who calls several times most days.
Ever taken a cab? Yes, years ago.
Do you regularly check yourself out in store windows and mirrors? All the time. It's like a disease since I lost weight. "Is it still gone? really gone? It is!")
What color is your bedroom? It has dark-stained pine walls. We did paint our room a nice colonial blue, but we changed the bedrooms around to give our kids each their own room, and because of the way the house is laid out (we really don't want a window between our room and our son's, which is an enclosed porch), we gave that room to our daughter. *sob*
Do you use an alarm clock? T does. I do sometimes.
Window seat or aisle? Window, window, window.
What's your sleeping position? I turn over and over until I finally fall asleep. Usually when I fall asleep I'm either on my side or my stomach. One of the very hardest things about being pregnant (which otherwise I pretty much loved) was, toward the end, having to be in ONE position all the time in bed (left side, best for the circulation). ugh.
Even in hot weather do you use a blanket? A sheet and a light blanket. I feel like I'm just napping otherwise.
Do you snore? I think I do sometimes.
Do you sleepwalk? No.
Do you talk in your sleep? I used to, but I haven't heard T comment on it in a while so I don't know.
Do you sleep with the light on? No.
Do you fall asleep with the TV or radio on? No. I did all the time when I was younger though -- I couldn't go to sleep in silence. When I got married I had to change my habits since we used the radio as the alarm (because T claims the SCREECH SCREECH SCREECH would give him a heart attack); I had to get used to having it wake me up instead of putting me to sleep.
OFF THE TOP OF YOUR HEAD... no peeking!
What's in your car's tape deck or CD player? I have a 12-cd changer; currently it has Bach, Vivaldi, Mussorgsky's "Pictures at an Exhibition" (great for listening to with the kids), a CD of "power classics", a collection of preludes and overtures, an "alternative" compilation, an instrumental compilation (heavy on Enya and Loreena McKennitt), a kids' music compilation, my Phantom of the Opera soundtrack, a Gershwin CD with "Rhapsody in Blue", "An American in Paris", and "Lullaby for Strings"... and I can't remember the rest.
What station is your radio tuned to? Probably Christian talk radio.
What's on your dresser? Clothes. I put them on the bed meaning to sort them and put them away (they're folded and neatly stacked) but if T goes to bed before I do, which he generally does, he just puts them on the dresser. Also, there are a few of my husband's Mopar magazines, and our alarm clock radio.
What's on your nightstand? A few books, a book of word puzzles, a lamp, and a picture of my kids. And dust.
What time is it (don't look!)? hmm... eleven?
OK, now you can look, what time is it really? 11:04!
What color are your mother's eyes? Almost exactly the same shade of brown as mine -- just a teeny bit less goldenish.
Is your dishwasher clean or dirty? ack! I do not remember! Wait, clean, cause it was running during dinner and I haven't emptied it yet.
What pictures are in your hallway, along the stairs, whatever? hmm. My senior picture (which taunts me, because every time I go past it it says to me, "ha! You thought you were ugly and fat when you were me! Loser! You didn't know how good you had it!"), my husband's Navy boot-camp graduation portrait (wherein he looks like a BABY, not only because he was only 18, but because it was the only time since he was capable of having any, except for an agonizing few weeks right after we got married when he shaved it all off as an experiment, when he did not have facial hair -- even now if he shaved it off, he'd look fourteen), a family portrait, a collage of pictures of each of the kids, a picture of C and LT together when C was a newborn, a framed set of C's handprints from when she got into my lipstick as a toddler and covered herself with it, and, on the other wall, T's destruction derby plaques.
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Saturday, June 05, 2004
mid-day ramble
I am less enamored with my inline skates than I was this morning. Let's just say that while I know and am grateful that falling full length on my side, somehow managing to avoid landing on any part of my body wearing protective padding while hitting every OTHER part, and impacting the ground in a most spectacularly forceful way -- I am envisioning it in a Bill Nye video, repeated several times backed by frenetic music and then played in slow-mo -- anyway, as I was saying, I realize that this is much easier on my 29-year-old body than it would be in, say, forty years. As in, I'm still alive. But dang. It is also a LOT less fun than it was when I was ten, you know? OUCH.
With that out of the way, I'll move on. We had our first swim of the year today, in the neighbor kids' pool. I love that feeling of coming home from swimming and changing out of my suit, and my skin is still all cool, so the warm air in the room feels a little bit pleasant, and I almost want to put on something long-sleeved just because I could wear it for five minutes without passing out from the heat. Have I mentioned I really don't like summer? The only things I like about it are the ones that temporarily put summer ickiness on hold -- like swimming, or being at the beach where the temperature is ALWAYS in the sixties or seventies. For the rest -- blah. Except for clothesline-dried sheets. Those are bliss and summer's the only time I can have them. Still and all I'd trade if I could.
I'm going to have a sappy moment right now. You can leave if you want to. Today my daughter began to read for the first time. As if that weren't emotional enough for me as it is. But then right after she did that, her brother was watching a home video, and there was my one-year-old daughter, saying her first word (which was "hat"). Sniff.
*C is an unschooler's dream. For all you mainstream people who don't know what unschooling is ;-), it's basically extreme homeschooling, where not only does the child not go to school, but the family doesn't even "do school" at home. They just kind of absorb knowledge as they go and study what they're interested in. Now, we don't do this. I don't quite have the guts for it and I'm always a little afraid that my kids would grow up with gaps in their knowledge -- like say the times tables, because who ever wants to learn those? -- although I am closer to it than I ever thought I would be. For example, instead of starting Sit Down School with C at 3, like I did with her brother, I have never done any of that with her at all, and she's been able to just play and color and do little workbook pages she liked or whatever while her brother does school. And yet she is reading at exactly the same age he did.
Friday, June 04, 2004
more unconnected bits
A few random bits...
My shoulder still aches from the fall I took on my skates yesterday. I am such a whiner -- today, telling my dad about it (Dad, bless him, suffers from a veritable laundry list of physical ailments, but pushes himself too hard and never complains), I felt like one of those REALLY ANNOYING size five women who whine about how fat they are. (Note: If you wear a size 5 and say, "I'm so fat," within my hearing, be prepared to be sat upon.) But the fact remains that I keep being reminded of the spectacularness of my crash every time I attempt to do something mundane with my left arm, like raise my hand to move my hair out of my face, or hang clothes on the line. Ouch.
LT is having his first sleepover tonight. One of his friends is going fishing with him (and his sister, father, and grandpa) tomorrow morning bright and early, so we invited him to spend the night tonight. It is really touching, how excited my little boy is. He's actually cleaning his room without being told. And making the bottom bunk of his bed. I know. If I'd known this was all it would take I'd have started inviting his friends over to spend the night years ago. Hey, I bet I can get the best and quickest school work out of him ever if I tell him that his friend can come up as soon as we're done with school this afternoon. I'm gonna go find out. ;-)
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