Utterly Random by Jules

The Hold Out

2012-01-24T12:55:00.000-07:00

I love tears that sit overly long on my eye before they let themselves slide down my cheek. A show of strength.

This is how my mind works I suppose. I hold out sometimes. I wait until I feel it. People sometimes see procrastination, but it's really just time. Time to decide what I really want. Time to decide what I really feel. Time to truly feel what I'm feeling.

This is what happens when I watch the wrong five minutes of Grey's Anatomy while I'm having lunch on a Tuesday. This is what happens to my head. I think softly, and breathe deeply. I think about a tear sitting next to my eye and falling perfectly in sync with my heartbeat. I hope that I can express what I feel in a way that makes sense to others and then I remember....I don't care if it doesn't make sense. The only person I need to make sense to, is me.

That goes for you too.

Sometimes I'm the hold out.

Make a nice day!

Snow You Didn't

2012-01-19T07:38:00.000-07:00

I am someone who likes snow, generally. That's not to say that I love everything about winter, but I do like snow. I like how it makes everything pristine white, like a postcard. I like how it feels falling gently on my nose. I like big snowflakes that are magical. Yes, magical. I can't figure out how each one is different, can you? If you can, don't tell me.

Yesterday the news warned us about a storm approaching. Whoopety Doo. We went to bed and the snow was already beginning to melt, get slushy and float away. Sad really; especially for people who make their living in the tire business. Do you know how hard it is to get people to buy snow tires when there is NO SNOW? Ugh, talk about frustrating. Oh well, nature will do as she pleases whether I like it or not. Living in Utah though, (The Greatest Snow On Earth) state, you'd think we would get more. The Tire Guy and I even have an industrial size snow blower. Many more winters without much in the way of snow and they will need to change the motto of this state to The Greatest Slightly Warmish Slush On Earth, because that is what I walked in this morning....slush. If I'd had my grape flavoring I could have had a homemade Slurpy.

And now onto other business. Sundance is happening. I believe it starts today. I'm a wee bit jealous of anyone who has been or gets to go this year. It's one of those big events that happens here in Utah and I've never been a part of it. Waaaa!!! Could I go? I don't know, it feels like it would be akin to crashing a party. I have no tickets. I have no idea where I would go. I have no friend to keep me company, or ooh and ahh with me when we spot a celebrity. *sigh* It's the kind of thing I wouldn't do alone....so, for you local people who are waaaaay cooler than I, let me just throw this out there....I would make an excellent companion for you at Sundance. I clean up pretty good. I would pay my own way. I am funny and usually entertaining. I don't eat much. I've been told I resemble Liv Tyler. I wouldn't gush too much over celebrities and I have a truck with four wheel drive, just in case the snow ever falls.

Give me a shout out if you want me to be part of your entourage, or walk behind you taking notes in order to make you look important. Whatevs. I have no pride, I just want to be part of the hoopla, known as Sundance Film Festival. There, I've said my peace.

Now I have to go make breakfast for Little Man and be domestic. Oh, the life of a goddess.

Make a nice day!

Oh The Places You'll Go

2012-01-18T10:02:00.000-07:00

I am so inspired. This is not news, I suspect. Sometimes I have days where I just want to veg. I want to lay on my bed, watch television and eat chips. This is not that kind of day. Today, even though the sky is grey and I'm still in yesterday's clothes, I'm feeling inspired. I have so many good things in my life and those things inspire me.

I think being inspired is about remembering to dream big and work hard. I love that I have so much going on in my life that I'm passionate about and that I haven't reached my goal yet, but everyday I work hard toward that end...only it won't be the end because I'll challenge myself to find a new dream, something bigger.

Today I have Avon to deliver, laundry to do, a workout to get done, some groceries to buy, a novel to work on, and boots to wear when I'm kicking down the doors that will be slammed in my face. Something about the challenge of that is inspiring.

Also I talked to my Mama who is having a snow day today. I love you Mama. You are a cool chick, too be sure. You always make me laugh and you get me like no one else. Now, get busy and go make some beautiful jewelry. Yes, my Mama makes jewelry. She's awesome, I'm telling you.

We are supposed to be getting more snow here. For Utah, we've had very little snow this winter so far. It's a bit of a bummer because when we don't get snow, then we get days and days of grey and cold. Without snow, it seems pointless to have grey. Oh well, who am I to question Mother Nature?

Keeping it short and simple today. Life, my dreams, kicking down doors; it all awaits me. Pretty cool, huh?

Make a nice day!

My Heart Is A Twitter

2012-01-17T12:43:00.001-07:00

It is my honor to share with you my latest obsession, Hell On Wheels on AMC. To say this is a western television series is selling it waaaay short. As a women, if there is too much shooting and not enough drama, I'm probably going to be spending my time playing Words With Friends on my phone rather than watching. Hell On Wheels is the perfect combination of of drama and action.

I have the whole season recorded on my DVR and it's the kind of series that makes me grateful to the genius who dreamed up the DVR. The lead role is played coolly by Anson Mount, yes that is really his name, a seriously under appreciated actor from White Bluff Tennessee, and my friends, he is a Titans fan....(just like me.) Wikipedia tells me that his father, Anson Adams Mount III was one of the original contributing editors to Playboy magazine and that his great-great-great grandfather was a Confederate cavalry colonel in the Civil War. Interesting, considering that Hell On Wheels is set just after the Civil War ended. It is my hope that this role will propel him to the kinds of recognition he deserves. When I say coolly, I do mean coolly. There is a hard, bad ass, steely quality to the character of Cullen Bohannen that makes girls like me sigh deeply and long for the days when men had rough hands and seemed able to conquer anything.

Truly, the show makes me long for the old west, when railroads were first being introduced into the land and so much of our landscape was unseen and untouched by man. Ok, so I'm a little dreamy but can you blame me?

Anson Mount is an actor that I follow on Twitter and I can say unequivocally, he has been the definition of a gentleman. He answers questions from his rabid fans and responds with funny, eloquent, and interesting answers...always. I sent him a Tweet asking if there was anything he would like me to include in this blog. His response: "Tell'm I said, "Shake yo' THANG today." *sigh* Ok Anson, um, Mr. Mount, whatever you'd like.

Yes, it's obvious I'm crushin a bit, but also I'm just glad to feel like I'm part of something that means so much to me. When I tell you that I love the show Hell On Wheels, I'm serious. It's some of the best television I've watched in well, forever. It certainly makes me feel better than another season of The Real Housewives of WhereverTheFuckThey'reFrom. Don't get me wrong, ya'll know I watch that stuff too, but H.O.W is better. It's so much better. I promise you.

I would be willing to bet that it won't be long before Anson Mount is a household name. I was just thinking last night about my novel and how well he would play the lead character, if it's ever turned into a film. (Dear God, please let me get published.) He is just what I pictured when I wrote it. Strange how these things happen. Also, enough can't be said to the supporting cast of Hell On Wheels, most especially Common. Sonnets should be written about that man's abs. It's more than a six pack, it's like an unsolved mystery. Speaking of which, I really need to get to the gym.

If you haven't seen Hell On Wheels, trust me, it's worth your time. If you have and you disagree with me, then apparently you have no taste.

Make a nice day!

TGWTDT

2012-01-12T15:49:00.003-07:00

There is no limit to my obsession.

Turkey

2012-01-12T15:46:00.001-07:00

After writing two blogs in two days, I mentioned on Facebook that if I blogged again today, I would entitle it, Turkey. As in, three strikes in a row when you go bowling. So, now that you understand, we can get down to business.

Things take much longer and always cost more money than I expect. I go to the liquor store and there is a line. When I finally get to the front, the alcohol I bought costs more than I anticipated. I buy it anyways because I refuse to put something back. I have a little pride. Perhaps more than a little pride. Whatevs. I cannot get over how a simple $20 trip to the grocery store never costs $20; it costs $50 and that's if I'm lucky.

So frustrating. Writing my novel is taking much longer than I anticipated too. Aye carumba, or something like that. I don't even know what that means, but it's funny. I'm guessing that it will be about 500 pages but because I wrote it in notebooks with a pen, I now have to rewrite it for the computer. You try writing a novel twice and see how long it takes you. Or don't. My point is that I really thought I'd whip it out in no time flat. I don't. I can't. I desire to, but alas....things, all things it seems, take time.

Little Man has decided that he wants to join wrestling. The jury is still out about my feelings on this matter. He is only seven. I don't know. I'm going to defer to The Tire Guy on this one. The costumes for wrestling are so....gross. I'm sorry, I've been told repeatedly that I must call them uniforms. Seriously though, the Marines have uniforms....wrestlers have costumes. In case we allow LM to wrestle, just don't tell him I said that. I would dearly love for him to pursue basketball because he has potential....I think. Did I mention he's seven? The baseball thing was a bust because in his words, "baseball is boring". I don't disagree. Sorry R1 but it is a snooze fest. The attempt at soccer was good except when it came to summer soccer and then he really didn't enjoy running in one hundred degree weather. Can't say I blame him there either. Anyhow, we'll see; everyday is a new day and a new passion, but then, he's seven.

The Schwan's man came today. I don't like him. He smells like cigarette smoke that has never been washed out of clothing. Gag. The one before this one was cool and funny and he understood my sense of humor. This one just, well, he's without. He's like that guy that smokes because he's sure that it makes him cool when really, nothing makes him cool and smelling like stale smoke is especially uncool. I'm tempted to hand him samples of men's cologne from Avon and pray that he rubs them on his clothes. Now, don't get me wrong, I have plenty of friends that smoke. It doesn't bother me, but then none of them smell like they forgot to do their laundry for a month. You all know what I'm talking about. Stale smoke. It's just wrong. It's like vomit. If you vomit on your jacket, you'd probably wash it.

Well, that's it. I've fulfilled my turkey and now I must work on the book. Who knows, maybe I'll go for four tomorrow. It's been ages since I've done that. Is there a name for four strikes in a row in bowling?

Make a nice day!

Cannibal

2012-01-11T09:59:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I forced myself to work out. Yes, believe it or not, even for me, sometimes I must force myself. Once there, I was inspired by Ke$ha. Thank you Ke$ha. Your song Cannibal kept me going. I sometimes can't believe how motivational music can be. It makes me feel cooler. It makes me move when I'd rather sit. It inspires me to dance in my kitchen while I'm cooking dinner. It gets me going. Loves it.

Cannibal is one of those songs that men might not approve of. I have a feeling The Tire Guy would hate it. Ke$ha even makes reference to Jeffrey Dahmer. Naughty girl....and yet I dig it. Am I really a cannibal? No, not yet, (hee hee hee) but I like that the song makes me feel tougher.

So first I watch The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo and now I'm listening to Cannibal on repeat on my iPod. Apparently I'm going through some dark new phase. It's fun though. There was a time when I wore parachute pants too and pretended I was Michael Jackson....or some incarnation of him. Anyhow, enough about yesterday. Juuuuust kidding. It was the 80's. I have friends who even had the glove. Yep, I won't call you out. You know who you are.

Anyhow, I'm sitting here wearing a leopard print hat and I have very dark eye makeup on. Some days, that's just how I roll. Does it fit my day? Nope. Does it fit the idea of me that everyone has in their heads? Nope. Does it fit the mundane errands I have to run today? Nope. Do I care? Nope.

And in other news, I realized (in a panic) that Little Man forgot his glasses at school yesterday. Choke, cough, gag. I tried to tell myself that they weren't left on the playground somewhere in pieces. Thankfully, the kind people at his school went and checked and they were in his desk. Whew! I do love a happy ending.

An update, for those of you who are keeping score, I am now up to 264 pages in my book. I'm speculating that when it's finished, it will be around 500 pages. I still haven't worked up the nerve to write a query and start that part of the process. My dream is big. It's a big dream to become an author and therefore, I'll admit, I'm scared. I'm on the trapeze without the benefit of a net underneath me. And on that note, I need to admit something else. I'm not just scared, I'm a bit of a procrastinator. It's a horrible tendency. It's the one truly detestable thing about myself. I keep thinking that by some miracle, a publisher will drop in my lap. Isn't that just about the dumbest thing you've ever heard? I know. It's ok. It is. But, just like with everything else, I will push through my fear and get it done. I will. I haven't worked for over a year on a novel just to let it sit sadly next to my computer. No. It needs a life; and I'm the only one that can give it one. I wonder what song will inspire me next.

Make a nice day!!

I Am Lisbeth

2012-01-10T10:01:00.000-07:00

I am not sure I should have watched The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo. It was so good. It was the kind of movie that encourages my crazy fantasies about being a spy, a secret agent, a hit woman or just dangerous.

Isn't the idea of being dangerous rather intoxicating? It is to me. If you haven't watched the movie or read the book then this might not make sense but Lisbeth Salander is bad ass. She is smart, tough, and beat down but somehow unbroken. She made sense to me. I like female characters with edge and she is all edge.

I can't believe the movie was recommended to me by my Dad, but he said I should watch it, and so I did. Thanks Dad. It was AWESOME. The other thing that I found inspirational about the film was that I want to make sure that the characters in my novel are dynamic and fully fleshed out just like the ones in the books and films. They have to feel like you could touch them, see them, talk to them, be moved by them. If when I'm finished, someone reads my book and feels that way about the characters, then I've done my job well.

Two thumbs or in this case, fists, waaaaay up for this movie. Go see it....don't take your kids, and enjoy the ride. Rooney Mara is so cool as Lisbeth and now, so am I....by proxy.

It's been called to my attention that I have dropped the blogging ball of late. Alas, I have. Every day I think, "Gosh, I should write about that and send new randomness out into the blogosphere" but then I remember that I have to pay bills, get stamps, buy groceries, run other errands or spend time at the gym (which I haven't done in a month). So what have I been doing?

Ahh, well...currently I'm eating Caramel Cheerios. They taste weird and are better without milk. I won't be buying them again. What a waste of three dollars. I'm also going to check Facebook and Twitter like a salivating maniac but then I'm fairly certain I'm not alone in my obsession. These sites are highly addicting. On top of that, I really, really need to get to the gym. I can't get into model shape by summer unless I work out. Model shape? Did I really just say model shape? Hell yes I did. I figure, aim high. I could say, "I want to lose a few pounds." But that's like saying, "I'm only going to couch for a little while." I can't be vague. I must be clear. Model shape. If I don't have a body like Adriana Lima by June, then I haven't been working hard enough. Doable? Completely. I am pretty sure the trick is to drink LOTS AND LOTS AND LOTS AND LOTS of water, work out and put down the Cheerios. Perhaps I'll throw in some yogurt here and there and carrot sticks, no ranch, and try and remember why I'm doing it. Why you ask? To be HOT. Who doesn't want to be hot? No one. Ask anyone? If they say no, they are lying.

Speaking of hot, I tweeted recently that I would like all my followers on Twitter to be hot. I meant it as a joke, but apparently some people didn't think it was funny. Come on people, I couldn't say something like that and keep a straight face. Grow a sense of humor. It's that thing inside that makes a strange, rather infectious sound come from your mouth. We normal, funny people call it laughing. It's good for you and also (burns calories). I'm pretty sure I read that somewhere.

So, about my family. Nice segue, huh? I survived the holiday season without them. I'm glad it's over for that reason though. Sometimes being so far away during the holidays makes me rather sentimental and melancholy. Once it's over, the feeling evaporates. Much better. I still miss them but I'm not left daydreaming about warm hugs from my parents. Now, I'm back to my usual level of missing them. Much more tolerable.

Now to try and get back on track with regular blogging and routine (which I love) I'll say adieu. Or some such version of so long for now.

Make a nice day!

Sincerely, Lisbeth Salander in my fantasy.

The Wind Blows in The New Year

2011-12-31T09:26:00.001-07:00

Last night as The Tire Guy and I lay in our bed, a storm approached. A big, fat, loud, destructive, hold onto your shiny red shoes Dorothy; kind of storm. Our basketball hoop blew over. I heard shingles coming off the roof. The barbecue blew across the patio and nearly tipped over. It was anarchy. Mother Nature was pissed. It was nearly one o clock in the morning when we awoke and went out into its' wrath. There was something very creepy about it.

After we cleaned up what we could and moved as much as we could into the garage, we went back to bed. The worst of it seemed to be over but I couldn't go back to sleep. One thought kept me awake, "It is nearly 2012." And don't jump to conclusions, I'm not worried about the world ending. No, I figure that will happen when it happens no matter if we believe in global warming or not. We won't be able to change the course of the world anymore than we can change the number of stars in the sky.

The problem I have with it being nearly 2012 is that life is moving fast. Really fast. Holy bat shit, Batman kind of fast. Ferris Bueller said it would happen but I just never thought it would feel like this. I'm still the girl that is anxious and excited about the adventures I've yet to take but I look at my face in the mirror and see someone much more grown up. It's a little freaky. I look at my son and see him grow and change and I fear that moment when I blink and I'm hugging a man and not a sweet little boy who calls me Mama.

Pathetic, I know. I'm a big ol pool of mushy goo but I can't help it. I want to press the pause button and do everything. I don't want any of us to miss out on anything. I don't make New Year's resolutions but I do try and be a better person, do more, be more, every chance I get and lately, the progress is slow and time is ticking fast.

My wish for all those who read my random thoughts; be the person you want to be. Don't let anyone tell you what that is. You define it. You choose. Choose to be better, smarter, cooler, funnier, kinder. Choose to be the idea of yourself that you kept in your head as a child. I know what that girl looks like for me, and it is my goal to be her.

She is kind of awesome. She is fearless. She isn't scared about missing anything, because she won't.

Happy New Year!

Cheers to you all!

Inspired and......Frustrated???

2011-12-20T10:46:00.001-07:00

Little Man had his Christmas program at school today. They didn't call it a Christmas program. They called it a Parent Sing Along. It was officially a crock of well....you get the picture. None of the parents sang and if you're going to want the parents to sing, then hand out flyer's with song lyrics on them and get someone to orchestrate adult involvement. Also, and sadly I didn't realize this until too late, each grade level sang only one song. By the time I got my stupid camcorder out and going, my child's one song was nearly over. I feel like a lump of poo in the parenting department right about now. It is especially upsetting because The Tire Guy had an unavoidable meeting today and couldn't make it. So there I sat in a chair waaaay too far away trying to get my act together and not getting it together in time. It makes me wish for a smaller town. A smaller school. A smaller life. Fewer parents to try and see over. Fewer kids to try and seek out mine amidst them all. *sigh* Thus is the basis of my frustration today.

I'm tempted to force Little Man to stand on our stairs at home this afternoon and sing so that I can record it for posterity, and for The Tire Guy. Oh well, I guess not every aspect of our life will remind me of a Norman Rockwell painting, though I thoroughly wish it did. I even made my Little Man wear a polo shirt today. I wanted him to look, um, charming and cute and dapper. Isn't that what all Mamas want, a dapper young man? I should have opted for a blaze orange sweatshirt. At least I might have had an easier time finding him in the crowd. I'm hoping it's just hormones that is making me feel like crying over this. I can't cry though. One, it's silly, and I'm already a big enough boob as it is. Two, I put on mascara today, and I refuse, refuse to look like a raccoon. This is one thing that the parents of home schooled children don't have to deal with. And yet, I'm not even slightly tempted to home school Little Man. Nope, no way, hell to the no, and anything that rhymes with no. It is not in my genetic makeup to be able to do that well and to the level that all children deserve.

I heard some sad news this morning. The details of which, I won't go into, but let me say this. There are people in this world that inspire me. Through difficult times, they excel, they handle it with grace and dignity and honor. There are no other words. I hope to be like that when I face the difficult things to come. I want those words to be used when someone speaks of me. Grace. Dignity. Honor. To my friend who is going through a difficult thing right now; it is indeed my honor to know you and to call you my friend. If you need me, I'm here.

And in other news:

I just lucked out yesterday. The Tire Guy and I wanted to buy Little Man some new kicks for Christmas. So I decided that I would finally break down and buy him some Velcro shoes. He has been wanting them FOREVER but the deal was, he needed to learn how to tie his shoes first and then he could have some. I sort of jumped the gun and in my haste decided I'd better teach him to tie his shoes in earnest this time. He learned. He is now tying his shoes all by himself, every day. That isn't the point, not really. So, TTG and I discussed it, and I decided to exchange the shoes for something with laces. They seem to be more supportive, and it's good practice of his new skill. I went back to Famous Footwear (overpriced) and exchanged the Velcro shoes for a pair of black Nike basketball shoes. Very cool. Then I thought I would hop over to the Nike Outlet store and buy the skull and cross bones (it's a thing lately, I don't get it) laces that he has been wanting. While I was there I found the exact same shoes for half the price. So happily I bought the shoes again plus bright orange laces (they didn't have the skull ones in the size he needed LOL), and then went back to Famous Footwear to return the overpriced Nike's. Moral of the story, sometimes the deal IS better at an outlet store. Yeah!

Today I have some odds and ends to wrap and bathrooms to clean. I would hate for our guests to come and think I never cleaned. That would bruise my OCD ego. Then when I'm all done with that, I think, I hope, I pray that I'm pretty well ready for Christmas and can sit and work on my book for awhile. I was thinking about it this morning while I lay in bed, not quite ready to start my day. I know that when I'm obsessed with something like I'm obsessed with writing, that the only way to purge the demons is to write, fix, edit, add, and make some actual progress. It seems like I'm been hovering around the two hundred page mark for awhile now. I need to get through this notebook and keep moving. TTG says I need to hurry and get it published so that we can become millionaires. I'm not exactly sure that is what will happen but I do like his faith in me and his enthusiasm. I'll just be happy when I get published, regardless of what else is beyond it.

Make a nice day.

A Mediocre Blog

2011-12-19T09:29:00.000-07:00

Last night I had a great idea for a blog. Then I fell asleep on the couch, and *poof*, it was gone. So instead of a great blog, this could likely be a mediocre blog but that's OK. It give me the chance to use the word, mediocre.

I was watching movie trailers this morning. Two caught my attention. War Horse. I watched it and realized that I wish I could do epic. I don't do epic. I am less grandiose and more down to earth. The things I wrote in my novel are much closer to how I speak, and how I think most people speak. I might have a nugget or two that are noteworthy, but usually, it's real, plain talk. It is the kind of movie that makes me work to be a better writer....if that makes any sense.

The other trailer I watched, and I highly recommend everyone watch, is for a movie called Salmon Fishing In The Yemen. Now you might be thinking that it sounds like a bizarre, artsy film, but it's not. It caught my attention because of the title. I mean, come on, Salmon Fishing In The Yemen? How can you not be curious? That trailer made me wish for a better title to my book. Though I have pretty well settled on one, I still roll it around in my mouth to be sure. There is time. My working title is.....oh wouldn't you like to know? If I were absolutely positive about it, then I would share it, but like I said, it's still rolling around in my mouth.

We are having a fairly big Christmas Eve dinner at our house. I'm looking forward to it. There is King Crab in our freezer and I have plans for huckleberry cheesecake for dessert. I hate huckleberries but I'm the only one with the crazy "I don't eat fruit" thing so I gather everyone else will enjoy it. I keep telling myself to quit worrying and enjoy myself. It's difficult though. I'm a naturally good worrier. I worry about clean bathrooms, perfect gifts and having enough food. I worry about my dog smelling bad and ruining the atmosphere of the perfect Norman Rockwell Christmas at home. I worry about a multitude of things, but then that sucks all the fun out of it for me. I keep telling myself to drink plenty of wine and enjoy the moment.

I have a seven year old. I'm going to blink and he's going to be seventeen. I think I'd better enjoy now, today, for it's all we have. Or so I've heard.

Christmas is close and I'm (happily) almost all ready. It feels an awful lot like a marathon. I sent Little Man to school today with a gift for his teacher. I'm hoping the gift made it to her without being broken, left in the snow, or thrown like a football. Oh well, it's the thought that counts, right? Right? Hello? Tap, tap, tap. Is this thing on?

Well, I can't delay anymore. I have shoes to exchange, and two more gifts to buy...I think. Time for another list I guess.

Make a nice day!

Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas

2011-12-16T08:43:00.001-07:00

It's funny how one song, one movie, one moment in the snow can change a Grinch into a Who in the blink of an eye. I'm not a Grinch, not exactly, I love Christmas, I do. I do. I just find it a bit overwhelming. Mostly it's because I like routine. I like sameness and sometimes I struggle with things like pine needles on my floor, buying the perfect gift, wrapping without any wrinkles or tears and planning the perfect Christmas eve dinner. It all sort of sends my OCD into overdrive and I get well....um, bitchy.

Last night was a perfect example of that. I was just grouchy. Nothing said to me sounded good and I just felt like kicking snow at the bell ringers at Walmart. I know, I know....I'm not proud of it, but we all have our moments.

Then this morning, I forced myself to listen to Michael Buble's Christmas album on Youtube (parts of it) and suddenly I'm all new and shiny. It helps that I slept like a rock last night also. I needed sleep. I needed to hear Michael sing Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas. I needed to have a do over.

Now, with a tear in my eye and a warm beat in my heart, I will finish strong the rest of my Christmas "to do" list and breathe. It's always important to breathe. *sigh*

I can't blog for long...the list won't finish itself but I'm going to try and do it with a smile on my face because, let's face it, I'm blessed.

I'm sitting here in a lovely home, at a computer, warm slippers on my feet, with the sound of children heading to school outside my door. My tummy is full of peppermint mocha coffee and there is food in my cupboards. My wonderful husband made it safely to a job that sustains a great life and my son is in school, learning and having fun.

We aren't sick.

We aren't broke.

We aren't unemployed.

We have each other.

We have love.

We have stuff coming out the whazoo. (Not sure what a whazoo is, but I like the word.)

We have vehicles.

We have friends.

We have family.

We are blessed.

Make a nice day!

It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas

2011-12-05T11:59:00.001-07:00

....and that scares the crap out of me. When I was a kid, I would wait impatiently for the holidays to arrive and it seemed like it took FOREVER. Now that I'm not a kid anymore, I am beginning to realize why my parents sometimes seemed a bit overwhelmed by this 'festive' season.

It's crazy man. I remember thinking (on my birthday in October) "wow, I should probably get some ideas together for Christmas, just so that I'm not behind the eight ball." Hey, guess what? I am directly behind the eight ball. Little Man has a birthday in two days. I'm not ready. Basketball has started. I'm not ready. Company Christmas Party this weekend. I'm not ready. Are you seeing a pattern here? Not to mention that I haven't bought one Christmas present. WHAAAAA!!!!

I'm happy to report that the picture is recent....so at least I have the decorating done. Whew. This is where my OCD goes into overdrive and I start writing sticky notes and placing them all over. Odd little things that don't make sense to anyone's brain but my own. "File. Sync. Cancel." or "Marbled Cheesecake. Make bites?" I write things down to get the disorganized, organized. I'm still feeling overwhelmed. This is why children love Christmas and adults are 73% more likely to commit suicide this time of year. Sorry, bad joke. I pulled that statistic right out of my ass. I'm sure there are those of you who wish that I would stick it back up there. Point taken. Nothin but love for my peeps, and I hope none of you are suicidal. I'm not. I just keep thinking how much I would like to drink my way through the holidays like Karen off of Will & Grace. Just a thought. It won't happen. I'm far too responsible, but I fantasize about such things. Yes that's right; instead of fantasizing about hot, half naked men on a beach somewhere remote....I fantasize about a holiday bender so I can sluff my grown up duties. LOL Being a grown up is SOOOOOO HAAAAAARRRRRD. That was as whiny as I can be on a blog. My mama can probably still hear that voice in her head. Love ya mama.

And speaking of my mama, she sent me the most incredible purse. Loves it, so I had to share my joy. It's from a company called Thirty One and you buy the basic purse and then put different "skirts" on your purse depending on your mood. I've died. I've died a Rachel Zoe style-gasm death. Oh happy me. My next step is to buy every skirt imaginable because this sort of change makes me VERY happy. It helped my 'holiday holy shits' like you wouldn't believe to have a new purse. Thank you mama. You kinda rock.

Now on to the news.

I read last night on Twitter, Facebook, and E! News that Guiliana Rancic is going to have a double mastectomy. *sigh* My holiday holy shits are looking much smaller and much more pathetic. This is mind blowing sad news. Is is strange to anyone that I immediately felt my boobs when I found out about her breast cancer and again I felt my boobs when I heard the latest? It's like someone mentioning bed bugs and trying not to itch yourself. Only this isn't a gross out moment, this is a fear moment. I'm praying for her and her family and cussing to the depths of Hell, all cancer. Not great news. Poor G, though I saw a self portrait of a woman who had also undergone a double mastectomy and I remember thinking how cool she looked. No boobs sort of made her look like a modern warrior, strong and formidable. Maybe that sounds weird, but it's how I felt.

As for upbeat news, I'm being a pretty good duck. I'm out of my funk and continuing to paddle like hell. It's what I do. Little Man had a horrible cough yesterday, and this morning....then when I took him to the doctor..."eh, he's fine, send him to school." Just what I wanted, to spend money on a unneeded doctor visit, but I guess it's better safe than sorry. I was just glad that LM actually wanted to go to school. It could be that I told him that if he stayed home, it would be bed, and no Nintendo DS games.

What does Little Man want for Christmas? An iPod touch so that he can play Angry Birds. I can't even figure out how to play Angry Birds on my iPod touch. Oh if only they made that game for Nintendo, then children all over the world would rejoice.

Still type, type, typing away on my book trying to get it edited and transcribed to the computer. Talk about a time consuming job. I still haven't begun my query. I'm a bit scared of that first rejection letter or simply no response. Maybe I'll wait until after Christmas to have my ego bruised.

Make a nice day, and don't forget to feel your boobies. I'm just sayin'.

Be A Duck

2011-12-01T08:39:00.001-07:00

We have a saying in our family, "Be A Duck". Now since I am from Oregon, that could mean, expect to grow webbed feet. It doesn't. It means, let the problems roll right off you, like water off a ducks' back.

This is sometimes easier said than done. Oh, who am I kidding? This is usually easier said than done. Problems are problems and how I react to them isn't always like that of a duck. I want to be a duck. I strive to be a duck, but let's face it, aside from being a born and raised Oregonian, I'm often not a duck when I wish I were a duck.

Duck. Duck. Duck.

Let's look at this a bit closer, shall we? Ducks do have amazing feathers. They float around in the water seemingly without a care in the world. The water rolls off them. I imagine washing a duck would be hard. Under the water, they are paddling like Hell. I can relate to that. Under this facade of calm that I sometimes pull off, there is little duck feet paddling like Hell. There is a lot going on under the surface.

Today I read a post on Facebook from a very dear friend of mine. She was there at my childhood slumber party when the frog peed on me. She was there when I didn't get on homecoming court and she made me a crown from a paper bag. She was there. Today is her mother's birthday. It should be a celebration but it isn't. Her mother passed away some time ago and all I can think is how horribly unfair it is. I don't know how to be a duck when real loss is involved. Maybe I'm not supposed to. My heart aches for my friend.

I want to be better in honor of my friend and the loss she has suffered.

I strive to stop sweating the small stuff.

I will tell my friends and family that they are loved.

I will hold on tight to my loved ones because I could blink and they could be gone.

I will remember that life is short and to live each moment to the fullest so that I honor those loved ones that are lost.

I will be a duck, tomorrow.

Make a nice day!

My GPS

2011-11-30T19:03:00.001-07:00

I didn't buy it. I was born with it. It doesn't give road maps. It gives a life map. It is my conscience. It is the thing that stops me (sometimes) from saying the thing I'm not supposed to say. Lately I've been thinking about how wonky everything is. The weather is wonky. The Christmas shoppers are wonky. The way I'm feeling is definitely wonky.

It's like I just can't get out of my own head. The Tire Guy is out of town for work and I have been busy. I put up some Christmas decorations. I vacuumed out the truck. I delivered some Avon brochures. I went to the bank. I make sure that Little Man does his homework. I make sure he has a bath and goes to bed at 8. I do laundry. I do dishes. I transfer my book to the computer. I sleep.

There in lies the last three days of my life.

*yawn*

I do all those things and yet I don't feel completely present. My heart just isn't in it. My son, my sweet angel boy is going to be seven soon and I haven't bought even one present. What is wrong with me? I'd ask for a Prozac prescription, but I dont' want to lose my sex drive. Oh come on, that would be waaay worse than this blah feeling I'm having now. Perhaps I just have the holiday blues. Perhaps I miss TTG. (I do) It's more than that though....it's bigger.

My GPS is screaming at me to, STOP, BREATHE, REGROUP....and FOR THE LOVE OF GOD STOP OVER ANALYZING EVERYTHING!!!

OK, so perhaps my GPS is correct. Maybe my biggest flaw isn't that I sometimes cuss like a sailor or get on my soapbox; maybe my biggest flaw is that I allow myself to get stuck in my own head. Like a mire. Like a bog. Like the South. Just kidding. I've never been to the South. I have watched Swamp Men though. Loves it.

On to more important things. There was a big discussion on Facebook today about the Kardashian's. In particular, Kourtney Kardashian because it was reported that she is pregnant with baby number two.

I say, "Well done, Kourt" Seriously why hate? I don't hate the Kardashian's. People were calling Kourtney a whore, they claimed the whole family are money grubbing, fame whores and that they shouldn't be celebrated.

Well, I'd say that sounds a bit like sour grapes. Now I don't think everyone has to like them. I get it when people don't. I have a huge girl crush on Angelina Jolie. It is my opinion. I don't require that everyone feel the same way. That is just silly. The haters though, I don't get them. People are wildly passionate about hating the Kardashian family. Some people. My point was that I imagine many people would happily sign the dotted line if Ryan Seacrest came calling with a whopper of a TV deal. I would. Does that make me a fame whore? Doubt it.

As to the other point, about Kourtney being a whore; well, that is a bit like the pot calling the kettle black here in Utah. No she is not married to the baby daddy, but then I live in Utah where women pop out babies like Pez and you can't tell me that all of them are married. I know sure as shit they aren't. In fact, there was another opinion voiced about it being "too soon" and "why didn't she wait longer before getting pregnant? Is it a publicity stunt?" Really? Really? I mean, COME ON. Nobody gets pregnant for a publicity stunt. I've never been pregnant but I know that; as sure as I'm sitting here drinking box wine.

There are some things that are never going to be about publicity. Ugh. People amaze me. I'm shocked and appalled at the serious hatred pointed at the Kardashian's. I watch the shows. If I'm having a sick day, or just a because day, I'll turn on E! and enjoy a couch fest with the K-Dash family. I can't be alone in this opinion either or they wouldn't have a show or all the overexposure. If you have ever really watched an episode....they are actually a cool family. On some level they remind me of my own family except the money, fame, and a whole lot of fancy shit. When my brothers and I lived at home, we played games together, we had family meals, we spent a lot of time together. That is what I see when I watch Keeping Up With The Kardashian's. They play, they tease, they support, they love each other. It can't be all that bad.

I called out the haters on Facebook. I told them they sounded jealous. They responded by telling me I was wrong. OOOOOKKKKKKK. Sure I'm wrong. I'm wrong that anyone would be jealous of them. Riiiighhht.

Now back to our regularly scheduled programming.

Make a nice day!

Something To Share

2011-11-29T16:03:00.001-07:00

Well I know who I'm going to vote for President.........

21 year old woman's thoughts............

I like the way this young lady thinks!
This was written by a 21 yr old female who gets it. It's her future she's
worried about and this is how she feels about the social welfare big
government state that she's being forced to live in! These solutions are
just common sense in her opinion.

This was in the Waco Tribune Herald, Waco , TX Nov 18, 2010 Put me in charge . . .

Put me in charge of food stamps. I'd get rid of Lone Star cards; no cash for Ding Dongs or Ho Ho's, just money for 50-pound bags of rice and beans, blocks of cheese and all the powdered milk you can haul away. If you want steak and frozen pizza, then get a job.

Put me in charge of Medicaid. The first thing I'd do is to get women Norplant birth control implants or tubal ligations. Then, we'll test recipients for drugs, alcohol, and nicotine and document all tattoos
and piercings. If you want to reproduce or use drugs, alcohol, smoke or
get tats and piercings, then get a job.

Put me in charge of government housing. Ever live in a military barracks? You will maintain our property in a clean and good state of
repair. Your "home" will be subject to inspections anytime and possessions will be inventoried. If you want a plasma TV or Xbox 360, then get a job and your own place.

In addition, you will either present a check stub from a job each week or you will report to a "government" job. It may be cleaning the roadways of trash, painting and repairing public housing, whatever we find for you. We will sell your 22 inch rims and low profile tires and your blasting stereo and speakers and put that money toward the common good..

Before you write that I've violated someone's rights, realize that all of the above is voluntary. If you want our money, accept our rules.. Before you say that this would be "demeaning" and ruin their "self esteem," consider that it wasn't that long ago that taking someone else's money for doing absolutely nothing was demeaning and lowered self esteem.

If we are expected to pay for other people's mistakes we should at least attempt to make them learn from their bad choices. The current system rewards them for continuing to make bad choices.

AND While you are on Gov ' t subsistence, you no longer can VOTE! Yes that is correct. For you to vote would be a conflict of interest. You will voluntarily remove yourself from voting while you are receiving a Gov ' t welfare check. If you want to vote, then get a job. Now, if you have the guts - PASS IT ON...

Removing The Electronic Stick From Our Asses

2011-11-23T07:10:00.001-07:00

You've heard me rave about technology. I loooove my Droid. I go on and on about Facebook. I love to text and I get a happy feeling when there is an envelope on the screen of my phone. I couldn't get through a workout at the gym without my Ipod touch and sometimes I dream in Kindle Fire.

But having said that, I'm worried about the repercussions on our children...on ourselves for that matter. Don't get me wrong, I couldn't live without my favorite tech items anymore but once upon a time....I did.

I think I'm lucky to have grown up without a computer. I think I'm lucky to have grown up without a cell phone glued to my hand. I think I'm lucky to have grown up in the days prior to some of the major electronics that flood our lives now.
Here's why:

I had to learn how to speak to people.

I had to break up with boyfriends in person.

I had to face any social anxiety I might have had and in doing so I learned that most people are approachable. Most people aren't intimidating....not to me at least.

I had to resolve arguments in person. There were no smear campaigns posted on Myspace or Facebook.

I learned about the latest gossip the old fashioned way, in notes, written on paper, passed at school.

Also, I was anonymous, but I didn't think about it. I didn't know it. I felt like a big fish in a small pond and therefore my confidence grew. I knew I could do whatever I wanted in this life because no hater on Facebook ever told me different.
I think social media is a great thing, but it can also be very destructive. As an adult, I easily filter the things that I don't want but teenagers and young children don't have that skill yet. They go online and see that one of their "frenemies" has posted something hateful about them and the next thing they know, it's fodder for gossip at their school the next day and "their life is over". They get hurt; sometimes they get irreparably hurt.

They haven't learned how to confront their enemy head on and so the battle takes place on Twitter, Facebook, MySpace, texting, and emails. It's sad really.

We've all seen it. The suicides. The murders. The damage this big electronic pond has done. Is it still great, but it is something that should be used with caution.

I think we still need to teach our children to face their own social anxiety. They need to make their own phone calls. They need to be brave enough to approach someone. They need to be given the skills to handle both the technology and also the old fashioned one on one.
If I do my job as parent, then my Little Man will know how to do this:

"Hello, my name is *******"

"I'm calling in regards to ******"

"I'm sorry, my mom isn't available. Can I help you?"

"I'm interested in signing up for******"

"Yes please."

"No thank you."

"You're welcome. Have a nice day."

These may seem like simple phrases, but how often do you hear kids say them? In this day and age when they are using texting shorthand to communicate with the world, how often do you hear a kid answer the phone saying, "****** residence."? Or even, "Hello, this is *****."?I just think that it would be nice to have both technology and courtesy and the intelligence to use both appropriately.

As for removing the electronic stick, eh, it just sounded funny.

Make a nice day!

Quitters

2011-11-21T06:46:00.001-07:00

Aha, there I am. You didn't think I'd be gone forever did you? No, I couldn't. This blog is a part of me and I am part of everyone who reads it....unless of course that freaks you out and then; never mind. It is sort of like that movie Phenomenon where the guy is talking to the kids about dying, and about energy never being lost. I can't be lost because you might be reading this and if you read it then it becomes part of you and therefore I live on. Deep, huh?

That brings me to something completely different. Quitters. I have a friend who calls sweatpants; quitters. It's sort of funny if you think about it. You put them on and you've quit. Maybe you just quit working for the day or perhaps you've quit giving a shit about anything. It is the second idea that has been marinating in my brain for the last few days. Believe it or not, I write many of my blog posts while I'm making the bed, while I'm in the shower, and sometimes even smack dab in the middle of a conversation with my friends.

I don't know quit. Let me just throw that out there again and see if it sticks. I don't know quit. I know me as well as anybody and although I own sweatpants, I don't quit. I have seen people who quit. I have seen something knock them down in the third round and they don't get up. Tragedy. Tragedy has won and they quit. Like the woman who finds out her husband cheated and she doesn't rebound, not ever. She suddenly doesn't think she's beautiful. She stops putting on makeup. She walks with her head down. She becomes pale, blending into the background. She gives away her power instead of stabbing the hand that's trying to grab it from her. She doesn't see that it isn't about what he did, it's about how she reacts. She puts on her quitters and drives herself to the grocery store unable to find that thing that made her strong and beautiful. She is unable to see herself beyond the burn. I don't understand that.

Now, this might be the part where you judge me. You may be tempted to say that they only reason I feel this way is because I have never had anything tragic happen. Oh contrare'. I have had my fair share of tragedy and in my lifetime I know I'll have more. It's coming like a freight train, a moment of pain that is unavoidable and yet I know I will persevere. I don't put on my quitters. I don't. (Except for family movie night but that sooo doesn't count.)

I require myself to not give up, give in, or let anyone take my power away for very long. It comes from knowing who I am and what I'm worth. Cocky? Arrogant? No.....merely a powerful woman who won't let anyone or anything knock her down for very long. There is that thing inside of me that is unbreakable and it isn't my heart; it's my spirit. I cannot understand when I see women go from beautiful, strong, and smart to sad, broken, and grey because of a moment in their life. I think women should mourn and grieve and then they get up, they should shower, they should put on a pretty dress and makeup and go kick some ass.

Courage. Conviction. Power.

It makes me sad when I see people who have put on their quitters and decided that it is the best they can do. That they are not valuable enough to have better. They have let the world and their own mind tell them that it won't get better. That they can't have better. They lie to themselves and let tragedy win. Maybe tragedy isn't even that tragic. Perhaps it's less of a road block and more of a speed bump and yet they sit, in their quitters, next to the speed bump just sure they can't clear it.

I don't get that. I understand being pissed that someone put a speed bump on my race track, but I don't understand not just plowing over it. Put your car of life in four wheel drive and keep moving. You don't stand in front of your closet and take the quitters out. You don't. You look at the hot, red dress and tell yourself, "Hell yeah, I can rock that." I know, I know, mixed metaphors, what else is new? Anyhow, so I've crawled up on my soapbox for the day and now I will crawl back down because my hot, red dress is waiting. Time to kick some ass.

Make a nice day!

The Things Ahead

2011-11-14T13:49:00.001-07:00

Am I about to tumble over the waterfall of life? Eh, possibly. Or it could be the greatest ride of my life. It's all about perspective. Today my friends is a big day. I finished my novel. Or rather I finished it the first time. It's not edited. It's not been fine tuned, but the last word of the last page was written this morning by my hand. Let's take a moment of silence for the work that has consumed a large portion of my life for the last (I don't know how long.) See, when I began the book I didn't mark the date. I didn't say, "Today is the day I will begin my novel." So I honestly don't know how long I've been writing. A long damn time. Too long. Jackie Collins, I am not. I am just a girl who didn't want to jinx the process by giving myself a starting date. I can happily report that I have an ending date.

November 14, 2011

This date will be important to me. In finishing my unnamed novel, I found it had a name. The very last line of the epilogue and there it was. It was exactly like magic. I kept tossing around ideas in my head for what it would be called but nothing I came up with really felt right. Close but not right. Warm but not hot. Anyhow, I found that in the end, the name came. Lightening struck and it named itself. Oh, and it's good too. I'm really happy with the result.

That brings me to some of the recent issues I'm having in being an aspiring author. People want to know what it's about. I can understand that. That would be the first question I would ask too. I just don't know what to say. Oh, don't worry, I know what it's about, I just don't know how to describe with minimal detail what it's about. Understand? To say it's a romance novel would be selling it short. It's not a romance novel, though it is romantic. It's like a perfect stranger asking me to describe my kid. He's a six year old boy. But it's not enough to say he's a six year old boy....because he is soooo much more than that. He's funny, smart, energetic, interesting, kind, busy...omg where would it end? He's a million little things that make up the most magical person in my life, AND, so is my book. I've given life to the characters in the book much the same way that I've nurtured Little Man and become a Mama.

I worry a little about the things ahead. There is work to be done. There is thick skin to be developed when the first, second, and possibly fifteenth literary agent turns me down...but somewhere, someone will see the heart that I've placed in these characters, in this story. I just want someone to see it the way I see it. I want someone to read it and cry during the parts that made me cry when I wrote them. My guts on paper....that is what I wish for someone to recognize. Preferably a literary agent and a publishing company. Anyhow, that is for later. It is what lies ahead of me. For now, I celebrate. I post Cheers by Rihanna on my Facebook profile and I celebrate. Every little accomplishment deserves some celebration. Don't you think?

Make a nice day!

Free Fall

2011-11-07T12:14:00.000-07:00

It's 11:48 a.m. I have not really done much and yet, I've been up for hours. I had planned on accomplishing a great many things today, but so far....well....not so much. I learned that the time change is only fun for people without children. Little Man woke up some time around 5:30 a.m. Shoot me. OK, don't really shoot me, just give me a pill so I can sleep for awhile.

After Little Man left for school and The Tire Guy left for work, I was left with my coffee, my book, and my thoughts. This is where my thoughts lead me. I really haven't changed all that much since I was a child. Oh sure, I don't look like I did, but the other stuff, the stuff that really counts....not much changing. For instance, I'm still unbearable when I don't get plenty of sleep. I'm grouchy, I pick at people.....I sigh.....A LOT. It takes an act of Congress to get me to stop and rest, so I bitch. I bitch at LM, I bitch at TTG, I bitch at random passers by on the street, I bitch at children who walk through my yard.....I even think I bitched at the lady at Walmart last night who kept inching closer to my rear with her cart. As if shoving it up my you know what will make me move faster. Mostly it made me want to commit a heinous crime. I didn't. Therefore, just like Lindsey Lohan, I'm not in jail.

Why did I bring up Lindsey? Because I can. Now, it's time for me to admit something. It's big. OK, maybe it's only sort of big. I don't watch the news all that much, and shamefully sometimes things that I watch aren't that interesting to me....so I switch to E! Here is something that I don't get, I don't get the......eh, you're going to judge me harshly on this I just know it......I don't get the whole occupy Wall Street deal. Don't get it. Not even a little. I even Googled it, hoping for some insight...and nope. Still doesn't really make sense to me. Are rich people rich? Um, yep? Are people who are occupying wall street mad that rich people are rich? Hellifiknow!!! Seriously. Wouldn't it be better for everyone to get off the street and get a job on Wall Street if they want to make the kind of money that the suits are making? Just a question. Please leave my head in tact if you have a beef with what I'm saying. I'm not attacking anyone and I would expect that no one would attack me over this. Not today....it's Monday. It's Monday after a time change and today historically blows big chunks of something grey and wet. Well, it does.

It's not ignorance, it's not. I want to be in the know. What I don't want is someone to spray their version of the truth on me like too much hair spray. I don't want an emotional response, I want some real answers. Don't preach to me unless you're a preacher. Now, am I being completely hypocritical and all my way or the highway? Uh, duh! It's my blog. You no likey....you no read-e!!! I wrote that with a Y but then it just said ready. Hahahaha! Anyhow, so I've mentioned Lindsay Lohan, I've admitted something horrible, and I've told you how much I detest a Monday after the time change. What am I forgetting?

Oh, I know, I had a really great dream last night. I got published and did a book tour. Lalalalala!!!! Can you hear the angels singing? Yep, me too. Seriously can't tell you what it would mean to me if that dream/goal came true. That would be the shizzzzniiiittt! Not another way to put it. Well, ok, if I'm going to be a "real" writer....there are hundreds of other ways. Here's a few.

Awesome, stupendous, delightful, tremendous, crazy good, hella good, waaaay cool, too cool for school, the bomb diggety, the cat's pajamas, pleasant, orgasmic, off the charts, good, great, terrific, momentous, and remarkable.

Make a nice day!

Oil

2011-11-02T09:38:00.000-06:00

This is one of the effects that I'm able to do with my phone. How weird is that to be able to say I was editing my photos on my phone? When I was a child (I'm about to reveal just how old I am) we had a home phone. Everyone had home phones. If you called and someone was unavailable to take your call, it was because they weren't home. That's it. It didn't mean anything else except that they weren't home. Oh, it might have meant that they were out in their garden or possibly on the toilet because I remember a time when the phone was attached to the wall....by a cord.

Now when someone doesn't answer, can't answer, it can mean all sorts of things. It can mean they are ignoring you. It can mean they don't have service. It can mean they are dead in a ditch somewhere. It can mean they left their phone in their car. IN THEIR CAR!!! Yes, I know I sound like an old biddy, but I kind of miss the days when we didn't all walk around with cell phones and blue tooth. The days when car crashes weren't because someone was texting while driving. Whatev. It is what it is. Today I'm simply yearning for some simple. I want to escape for awhile in a Norman Rockwell painting and decorate for the holidays, with people smiling. Real, honest to goodness smiles. I want my friends to be busy making handmade gifts instead of balancing their budget to be able to decide how much to spend on this year's orgy of greed.

Today is the first day that I'm acknowledging November. Yesterday was November too, apparently, but today I'm ready to begin facing it. Sort of ready. I'm still in a sweatshirt, my bed is unmade and I'm quickly running out of time to get ready for a dentist appointment that I'd like to skip. I don't really want to go anywhere. I don't want to face my responsibilities, but alas, I will. I will be the grown up my parents raised me to be...and I will go to the dentist. I will run my errands. I made Little Man go to school with the sniffles; the least I can do is set a good example by fulfilling my duties as well. Ugh!!

I said I was ready to begin facing it....perhaps I spoke too soon. I'm ready to consider beginning....or something like that.

Oh, and the effect on the picture is called Oil Painting. It's past Halloween, but I couldn't turn down an opportunity to plaster yet another photo of myself on my blog. It is mine after all. My blog, my rant, my face. The three musketeers of my life it seems. I'm sort of fascinated with this photo. It makes me wish that someone who can actually paint would paint me....in oil. I wonder if I could put that on my Christmas list. Yes, yes....I just used the C word. It is November after all.
Make a nice day!

Draw!!

2011-10-27T14:43:00.003-06:00

This is the second time I've drawn on my face in honor of that most beloved of holidays; Halloween. I asked my Facebook friends if I should do something new and post it as my profile picture and they answer was, "yes". So, this is what I came up with. After this, I was inspired to dress like an alien for Halloween, but there are no alien costumes unless you want to be an Avatar, and that is NOT what I was going for.

Oh well, it made for a good profile pic and now for Halloween I'm going to be a.....Right. Like I'd tell you. It's a secret. Little Man has a school Monster Mash tonight. I won't be going in my actual costume. Instead I'll be putting deely-bobbers on my head and calling it good. Why oh why would I give up the secret at a family dance. Nope. It must be reserved for the coolness of the party in the hood. This year we are having a chili or soup cook off. I'm soooo looking forward to it.

My Little Vampire can't wait to get into costume. Thank goodness I have an excuse to dress up. I mean, I have a six year old....and I have the hood. I almost bought a costume that was called Robin Da Hood. I thought that was awesome, but I didn't want to freeze my very exposed booty off. It was a very revealing costume.....not that the one I got isn't a little 'ahem' exposed...but what can I say? The options are limited and I didn't feel like being a nun. Not even in a costume. LOL

So, in case you wonder, yes, my lips say HI. I couldn't for the life of me get them to be the right way in a reflection of a reflection. Too much for my pea sized intellect. I used Avon's Glimmersticks and liquid eyeliner. Multi functional makeup. Loves it.

For my birthday one of my most dear friends and The Tire Guy put their sneaky heads together and she flew here from Oregon as a surprise. I was SO surprised. I cried. Let's just put that out there. Yes, I cried. It was a happy cry. I'm a happy crier. I'm a sad crier. I'm an angry crier. Are you seeing a pattern? We had SO much fun. We stayed up late (kind of). We drank wine. We got pedicures. We shopped. We talked. We laughed (a lot). It was bliss.

On our shopping excursion we went to Kohl's. Thanks to Nanny I had an awesome gift card from there. Now, I am the proud owner of Wangs. "Wha????", you ask. Well, I found some boots. Designer boots. Vera Wang. Thank you Vera. I love you. I think your name is funny but that's only because I have the sense of humor of a fourth grader. I love the boots. I love my Wangs. OK, so actually the line is called Simply Vera but come on, Wangs is soooo much more funny. I'm wearing my Wangs today. I'm walking on my Wangs. I'll kick some ass with my Wangs. LOL When I looked at my receipt from Kohl's, I realized I had saved $120.00. I kind of wanted to show fellow shoppers and random people on the street. The receipt also said they were looking for seasonal employees...so I thought, what the heck. Nope. I went through the tedious application process and then it said, "We're sorry, your application didn't fit the requirements for the employers. But don't give up." What the **ck, Chuck? Really? I would be a great seasonal employee. I'm a hard worker, I'm uber stylish and people like me. Apparently I answered something "wrong" but I just don't know what. Aaaarrrrggghhh!! Hmmph! Oh well, someday when I'm a published author I'll be sure to retell this story when I'm interviewed on the Today show. I will. You might have to remind me that I said that, but I will.

That's all for now. I think my DVR needs some attention. I can hear it in the other room....."Watch me, watch me, watch me." It's actually kind of creepy. I keep telling it that Halloween isn't until Monday but you know how those pesky DVR's can be.

Make a nice day!

Grin And Bear It

2011-10-20T11:35:00.001-06:00

I ran across this photo as I was browsing through old photos. It was taken at Yellowstone's Bear World. Definitely worth stopping by if you're heading that way. It occurred to me that it really is quite cool...I mean that my friends, is a grizzly bear. Not just any bear, but a grizzly. Holla! Respect should be shown to an animal that looks so cute and fuzzy and has inspired cuddly toys throughout the world, and yet.....could easily eat you for lunch. Respect.

I'm trying a new blog interface....basically that means I've been checking out the new tools in the blogger bag of tricks. I'd love to know what you think. Feedback people. I run on Diet Pepsi, mashed potatoes and feedback.

Today it struck me that I am not as organized as I would like. You would think with rampant OCD that I would be organized in all areas....um....nope. Guess which balls I've let drop of late? My friend, my longtime friend and fellow lover of Pixie Stix just had a baby. I had huge plans to get a gift to Arizona before the cute little 8 lb bundle arrived....um....nope. Yes, I suck. I suck huge stinky diapers. To my friend who has now joined me in the Mama club; welcome. I am over the moon to know that you are a Mama. You have always been the coolest combination of direct, laid back, fun, patient and kind and now your child gets to have all of those amazing qualities bestowed on him. Lucky boy. You will be a great Mama because you will love, and cuddle, discipline and guide....all with that voice that sounds like melted butter. *sigh*

And in other news, Little Man has joined the ranks of the bespectacled. Not sure if I mentioned. I'm trying not to make a big deal of it. Hence no picture posted for the masses. He is to wear them when he reads. I adore how he looks in them. I wasn't sure I would, but I do. To see him put on his glasses and commit to his twenty minutes of reading a night....it makes me very proud. OK, so he isn't committed, as much as he is told to do so by the Diet Pepsi loving ogre that loves him. What can you do, eh? It is one of my many parental duties to place a high value on education. My parents did and look at how that turned out....they have a son who has the nickname The Professor (love you Jeffy) and a daughter who went to college for less than one year, graduated, and is now writing a novel that has nothing to do with dental assisting....oh shit. LOL Just kidding, I think that I turned out alright. I mean, not everyone has the intestinal fortitude to write a whole novel, whilst being a full time wife and mother. Dinner is a 7. Hee Hee Hee!

Now, I'm serious, let me know what you think about the new look. Love it, hate it, couldn't give a rat's ass? Oh, and just for fun, who is dressing up as what for Halloween? I need inspiration.

Make a nice day!

Changing It Up

2011-10-18T09:10:00.000-06:00

I like to change things up. I do. Sometimes I like to wear boots, jeans, and a belt. Sometimes I like to wear skinny jeans and heels. Whatev. I can't ever be happy being stuck in a category. That would just be stifling. No one wants to be type cast. No one. If you have ever watched Inside The Actors Studio then you know. It seems as though every actor talks about it. Am I an actor? No, certainly not. But I'm a person who never wants to be stuck in someones idea about me.

Break out!! Yes, to break out, change it up, reinvent yourself feels good. Today I spent twenty minutes in front of my bathroom mirror drawing on my face with eyeliner. Then, for good measure, I posted the bizarre photos on Facebook. In honor of Halloween I'm expressing myself with Glimmersticks from Avon. Thank you Avon. Truly. Where else can you get so much fun from $2.99? It was fun, too. It's not a tattoo. I'm not the tattoo type. I thought perhaps that once I was, but I just don't want to be stuck with anything. It's bad enough I'm stuck with some of things I'm already stuck with. Like my right ear that sticks out more than my left. Like freckles that are not cute past the age of twenty because now they look less like freckles and more like age spots. Shut up, I'm in denial about that whole thing. Lalalalalala.....not listening.

Anyhow, I am afraid that I wouldn't love my tattoo for the long term. Look at Kelly Osborn. That would be me. Regretting my ink. Not cool. Now, am I against tattoos???....hell to the no. I likey. A lot. Some are just soooooo good. I'm picturing The Rock with his shirt off. Anyone else? No. OK then. Tattoos make some people cooler. When the tattoo is right on the right person; and it just works. Then, and we've all seen them, the people that made bad choices. Really bad choices. In my opinion they tried to change it up the wrong way. Maybe what they should have done instead of getting a bad tattoo is get a great new outfit. Just a thought. Maybe what they should have done was get the plastic surgery to fix their sticky outy ear or their misshapen nose. Hey, I'm just saying...a tattoo doesn't cover up ugly. It kind of shines a spotlight on it. That is why when I think about The Rock and his tribal ink on his chest I'm filled with joy because not only did he get the right kind of tattoo (my opinion) but he put it on a body that is in excellent condition. The guy posts on Twitter every day about working out. I find it inspiring.

So, back to me. I can't change it up with a new tattoo. I just can't. But everyday I try and change up something. Today, thanks to The Rock, I might just hit the gym. Or might go and work out. We'll see. I certainly need to.
Make a nice day!

Do You Know Me? I Don't Think You Do

2011-10-17T15:22:00.002-06:00

If you're my friend, or even a regular reader of my blog, then you know oodles about me. My favorite color, my taste in music, when I'm sad, when I'm unmotivated, when I celebrate my anniversary, when I'm happy, when I'm busy, why I'm busy, who my friends are, the things that make me laugh and a myriad of other things. I've said before, but it bares repeating, I have very few boundaries, but that doesn't mean I have none. Just very few. For example, I never tell people that I, um, hmm? There must be something....wait, let me think. Something will come to me.

Either way, that is not today's point. It has come to my attention lately that there are some people who spend an awful lot of time assuming things about me. They think they know me. Sure, I'm pretty much a woman without borders, but I've been known to put up a few, especially for those who are unkind. You know the ones. The people that are up to no good. They feel better when you are down, and they are flying high when you feel like shit. People, mean people who take pleasure in punishment and cruelty. And yet....AND YET...sorry, I got a little crazy there for a second, and yet they are consumed with making believe in their own lives. They pretend instead of live. As a good friend of mine put it, they spend their time digging in my backyard instead of their own.

Have you ever had someone ask how your doing with bad intentions? It's like they can't wait for you to answer so they can pick at you, dig at you, watch you fall. Are they so perfect? It's the world's greatest cover up because if you call them on their bullshit, they hide behind answers like,

"What? I was just worried about you." or "You don't have to be so defensive, excuse me for caring."

Except that they don't care, and you want to tell them that, but they just continue to deny that they ever had bad intentions when asking how you are.

"Is everyone OK today?"

I wish my answer would have been, "Fuck off. As if you give a shit." But instead, oh Jules, instead I say, "Yes, we're fine. No biggy." But my eyes give me away because I'm just not good at hiding how I feel. If you hurt me, you'll see pain on my face. If you surprise me, you'll see surprise on my face. If you betray me, you'll see betrayal on my face. And then the evil people win. They get what they came for.....my pain.

I hate when evil people win. I must learn to be aloof. I must teach my face poker. I must. I'm tired of those who do not know me, and certainly don't care about me, winning.

Do they know me? No, those people don't know me at all. If they did, I'm convinced they wouldn't treat me and others like me (the ones with few boundaries) so poorly. They wouldn't walk all over the people who aren't good at building walls against their cruelty.

Now, you may be thinking, "Jeesh, this is quite a pity party Jules. It's not like you've never been cruel." Eh, maybe. I'm harsh, opinionated, and very forthcoming but I'm rarely if ever, cruel. Cruelty comes from a different place. Have I hurt people unintentionally with my sharp tongue and sometimes by my poor judgement? Sure, but to be cruel, evil, you must intend to be...and I never intend to be that. I don't sit on high horses. High horses want nothing to do with me, but I never intend to hurt people. Often, hee hee, I crawl up on my soapbox about subjects that I'm passionate about, but I never jump from the soapbox onto the back of a high horse. Give me a short horse, and I'll be just as happy. Ok, it's time to move on, I'm beginning to ramble. My house is out of Diet Pepsi and that is just so wrong. I drank two regular Coca Colas yesterday. Gag! That is desperation when I'm willing to drink Coke. Blech! My body wants liquid caffeine, cold and refreshing and it must read Diet Pepsi on the can. Oh, and now you know my favorite soda. You probably already knew that.

Make a nice day!

The Voice of Diane Sawyer in my Head

2011-10-14T22:08:00.001-06:00

Maybe it's on the television in the other room. I don't know, but I find it soothing. I find the sound of her voice soothing like butter melting. I can't be alone in my love and hero worship of this woman, I mean she's been on television for like EVER. I love her because she isn't scandalous. She's real, approachable (I think) and she is classy. The lady has class oozing from her pores. I think too often we women forget that. We forget class in exchange for crass and it's sad. Perhaps I'm just melancholy for a time when women wore hats and trench coats and stockings. Actual stockings.

I think it would be nice to see Humphrey Bogart types wooing women like Greta Garbo in clothing that flattered the female figure. Clothing that hugged our curves and still left much to the imagination. Doesn't it sound fabulous? Can you picture it? Oh, play it again Sam. Play it again.

I have some heels that are brown, vintage looking t-straps and every time I put them on I'm instantly reminded of a black and white movie like Casablanca. I'm happy to own them even though I rarely feel like there is an occasion to wear them. (See I told you I would blog about shoes.) There are days when I have banking to do, or grocery shopping, or if I'm lucky, a lunch with a friend, and when I get those occasions, I put on special shoes. Shoes that make me feel sexy, alive, sultry, Greta Garbo coy, and sometimes just fun. I don't have as many as I once did. It is no longer a priority.....but oh how I wish it still were. I miss having a shoe budget that includes things that aren't practical.

With me I've noticed that shoes make the moment. I can tell you what shoes I was wearing the day I graduated from high school, the day I got married, and not unlike Forrest Gump, if I think hard enough, I could probably remember my first pair of shoes....if I think really hard. Maybe. I remember black and white heels, some of my first that made me feel so grown up. They matched an outfit I wore to church. I remember pink Reebok high tops that made me feel so trendy. I remember patent red shiny pumps that I stole out of my Mama's closet every chance I got, even if all I ever did was clomp around in them on the hard wood floors at home. I remember patent red mules that reminded me of Barbie shoes and I wore it with a red and white dress that was strangely like a barber pole or a candy striper. I remember feeling self conscious to be dressed so sexually. I remember white leather nurse shoes bought for two bits ( I had no clue how much that was) by my Grammy at a yard sale. I begged my Mama to not make me wear them. Sorry Grammy.

It's funny, but for every moment in my life, there were shoes to match. A moment stamped on the beach of my life in different tread for many occasions. The shoes don't make me who I am, but they sure helped me get there.

Make a nice day!

P.S. The picture is the only other pic I took at elk camp. It sort of feels cold to me....not just the snow but the moment. I was wearing brown Nike hiking boots that I've had for many, many years.

One Might Have Something To Say

2011-10-12T12:01:00.000-06:00

This is elk camp. It's like a concentration camp only liquor is provided. OK, so I might piss some people off comparing elk camp to a concentration camp. Try to remember people that I like to joke about things. Actually we had a really good time for the weekend we were there.....we have warm trailers, good friends, lots of laughs, good food and yes, liquor in the falling snow next to a warm fire. What could be better than that?

The answer: no drama. Since Little Man has school we are back for the week and could only stay on the weekend. Since we've been home I've had errands to run, chores to accomplish, obligations to fulfill. Here I thought it would be a week of laid back time to write blogs and my book. This is Wednesday and this is my first blog in how long? A really, really long time. I haven't even picked up my book to write more. What is wrong with me? Life moves pretty fast. Yes, yes it does.You know what else moves pretty fast? (How did you like the segue?) Crazy, mini van driving Mama's who think they're invincible. This lady driving a mini van today cut me off in traffic like she was heading to a meeting with the President. What do I know? Maybe she was. Maybe she wasn't just a mom with lots of kids that were late to school driving a mini van with bald tires thinking she'll never get in an accident that will result in damage, injury and potentially death. Maybe she wasn't. Seriously, she could have been meeting the President....of her church. OK, so my tongue is especially sharp for people who care so little for their own safety and the safety of those around them. I know that I've harped before about the bald tire situation here in Utah, but it's been awhile. It's time to harp again. Maybe, just maybe someone will listen and learn.

If you are driving 80 miles per hour on the freeway in less than ideal conditions, (perhaps there is road construction-there is, you might have bald tires-you do, there could be heavy traffic-guaranteed, and it possibly could be snowing-it will) then the chances that you will get injured or quite possibly killed in a fiery car crash, well, it's better odds than Vegas. Why not take control of all of the variables that are under your control? Your kid does not need another outfit at Aeropostale', your family needs to save the money and buy good quality tires, get your damn brakes checked and remember that your kid's new hoodie won't be worth shit when it's covered in their blood. Not a pretty thought, not for any of us....but it's the truth.

I had this idea that since October is Breast Cancer Awareness month, The Tire Guy's company should make October Women's Vehicle Safety & Awareness month and have it coincide with breast cancer research. They could provide special workshops for women who know nothing about the cars that they drive. Heck, they could hand out pink tire pressure gauges and show women how to use them. Just a thought.

When I was a kid, I spent a lot of time in the garage with my Dad. I would help him organize his tools, clean things for him, listen to music with him, and we would talk. Sometimes it was talks about my over dramatic life, but sometimes it was about the vehicle that he was working on. It was lessons about engines, carburetors, transmissions, horsepower, makes, models, tires, wheels, and pretty much anything else you can imagine. Now, I'm not saying I am an expert on cars.....not by any means, but I can change a tire. I know how to check my oil, and my tire pressure. I was raised to believe that if I wanted the privilege of driving, that I had to have some basic knowledge of the vehicle I drove.

This isn't a new concept, at least it shouldn't be. They wouldn't put me in charge of an airplane unless I knew how to fly it, and people, especially teenagers shouldn't be in charge of vehicles unless they know something about them. Wow, apparently it's been too long since I blogged because I sure got on my soapbox today. My bad. Next time, I promise, more lighthearted fair....we'll talk about shoes. My favorite.

Make a nice day!

Be The Change

2011-09-30T13:54:00.001-06:00

I bought a family membership to a recreation center awhile back. I took Little Man swimming a few times and then....I pretended like I didn't have a membership. I sat on my bed and watched television, I ate chips and dip and I basically buried my head in the sand.

Yesterday, for no particular reason, I went and worked out. I put my big ass on an elliptical machine and powered through a workout that made my feet numb and my breathing sporadic, but I survived. Then today, I did it again because I am a glutton for punishment. To add salt to my already exhausted wound, there is a pregnant lady that goes at the same time as I do. She barely breaks a sweat. She reads while she works out and I can barely form a cohesive thought, let alone read and understand a book.

That is just how out of shape I am. I thought perhaps I was in better shape. I thought I was stronger and not so fat. I was wrong. People who have seen pictures of me might be tempted to jump in and say things to convince me that I don't need to have my ass kicked at the gym every day....they would be wrong. Just because I look the way I do does not mean that I'm healthy, in great shape, and not in need of an ass kicking. My ass, is so overdue for the kicking. To be sure.

I discovered something else whilst sweat dripped from my brow and air felt gritty and sharp in my lungs, music is a good motivator, but it's not good enough. I play Lady Gaga. (Loves the Mama Monster) I play Maroon 5, I play Katy Perry....all good and definitely help keep me moving however, the best motivator I have discovered is workout clothes. A new outfit inspires me. I thought today, "Hmm, I need some new sports bras because if they sit in my drawer unworn, I'll feel guilty...therefore I'll workout regularly."

The other inspiration is being sexy. I want to be sexier than the current level of sexiness that I'm deluded about. OK, so maybe that didn't make sense. Here's the thing. I want to be hot. Not video vixen slutty, but just, "Damn baby, you're hotttt." Is that wrong? Perhaps it is, but it's no different than how I felt when I was 15, 16, 19, 22, 30, and now as I'm on the verge of 35....I still want it. Someone posted on Facebook awhile back, "Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels." I've heard it before, hell, I've even posted it before but as I was midway through my workout I thought about that. Yes, indeed....skinny feels good. In shape would probably feel awesome. I reminded myself of that and kept it up.

It's the ultimate in vanity, but I want to be in shape....like Jillian Michaels, my heroine who no longer can be found at The Biggest Loser ranch. Oh Jillian, I miss you.

Be the change you want to see in the world....well, that and the change you want to see in your ass too.

Make a nice day!

Makeup: Destroyed

2011-09-27T13:19:00.002-06:00

Read this and think twice about driving under the influence. GET YOUR TISSUES OUT: I was walking around in a supermarket when i saw a cashier hand this little boy his money back, the boy couldn't have been more than 5 or 6 years old. The Cashier said, 'I'm sorry, but you don't have enough money to buy this doll.'' The little boy turned to the old woman next to him, ''Granny, are you sure I don't have enough money?'' She replied, ''You know that you don't have enough money to buy this doll, my dear.'' Then she asked him to stay there for just 5 minutes while she went to look around. She left quickly. The little boy was still holding the doll in his hand. Finally, I walked toward him and I asked him who he wished to give this doll to. 'It's the doll that my sister loved most and wanted so much for Christmas. She was sure that Santa Claus would bring it to her.' I replied to him that maybe Santa Claus would bring it to her after all, and not to worry. But he replied to me sadly. 'No, Santa Claus can't bring it to her where she is now. I have to give the doll to my mommy so that she can give it to my sister when she goes there.' His eyes were so sad while saying this, 'My Sister has gone to be with God. Daddy says that Mommy is going to see God very soon too, so I thought that she could take the doll with her to give it to my sister.'' My heart nearly stopped. The little boy looked up at me and said, 'I told daddy to tell mommy not to go yet. I need her to wait until I come back from the mall.' Then he showed me a very nice photo of himself. He was laughing. He then told me 'I want mommy to take my picture with her so she won't forget me.' 'I love my mommy and I wish she didn't have to leave me, but daddy says that she has to go to be with my little sister.' Then he looked again at the doll with sad eyes, very quietly. I quickly reached for my wallet and said to the boy. 'Suppose we check again, just in case you do have enough money for the doll!'' OK' he said, 'I hope I do have enough.' I added some of my money to his without him seeing and we started to count it. There was enough for the doll and even some spare money. The little boy said, 'Thank you God for giving me enough money!' Then he looked at me and added, 'I asked last night before I went to sleep for God to make sure I had enough money to buy this doll, so that mommy could give it to my sister. He heard me!'' 'I also wanted to have enough money to buy a white rose for my mommy, but I didn't dare to ask God for too much. But He gave me enough to buy the doll and a white rose.'' 'My mommy loves white roses.' A few minutes later, the old lady returned and I left with my basket. I finished my shopping in a totally different state of mind from when I started. I couldn't get the little boy out of my mind. Then I remembered a local newspaper article two days ago, which mentioned a drunk man in a truck, who hit a car occupied by a young woman and a little girl. The little girl died right away and the mother was left in a critical state. The family had to decide whether to pull the plug on the life-sustaining machine because the young woman would not be able to recover from the coma. Was this the family of the little boy? Two days after this encounter with the little boy I read in the newspaper that the young woman had passed away. I couldn't stop myself as I bought a bunch of white roses and I went to the funeral home where the body of the young woman was for people to see and make last wishes before her burial. She was there, in her coffin, holding a beautiful white rose in her hand with the photo of the little boy and the doll placed over her chest. I left the place, teary-eyed, feeling that my life had been changed forever. The love that the little boy had for his mother and his sister is still, to this day, hard to imagine, and in a fraction of a second, a drunk driver had taken all this away from him.

Can't I Just Be Bored?

2011-09-22T11:43:00.002-06:00

I thought that when Little Man became a big first grader and went to school allllll daaaay that I would be bored after about two days. I'm still waiting. It's been two weeks. I was almost looking forward to some serious cuticle picking, daydreaming, write my book, and watch the grass grow kind of boredom. Nope

I'm anything but bored. I blink and it's 3:00 in the afternoon and my Little Man is almost home. I blink and then have to remind myself to breathe because I can't remember if I stopped to breathe yet. You might be tempted to ask how I spend my time. I-JUST-DON'T-KNOW. Waaaaaaa!! I've cleaned, I've cooked, I've run errands, I've made phone calls, I've dealt with Direct TV. (I'm quite certain it's run by the devil.) I've just felt busier now than ever. Little Man has a short day today and no school tomorrow so my busy day got even busier, because there are things I like to do without him....like go to Walmart. I can get in and out of Walmart in 10 minutes when I'm by myself. When Little Man is with me....it takes FOREVER.

Mama, can I have snacks
Mama, can I look at the toys
Mama, can I just get a drink that I like
Mama, can I pleeeeeaaassseee just go look at the toys
I don't want to buy one, I just want to look.
Can I get a dollar toy
Mama, can I pleeeeeaaaassseee just get a dollar toy??

At this point I'm usually on the verge of tears and daydreaming of a margarita on a child free beach somewhere.

However, having said that, I still feel busier than a one armed paper hanger and I don't even know what that is. I'll have to look it up and find out why people hang paper. Weird. Anyhow, another deadline is looming. My Avon order has to be in by noon and it's OMG, 11:43.

Make a nice day.

"You Need A Champion"

2011-09-19T12:49:00.000-06:00

Looking Ahead and Feeling Behind

2011-09-19T10:33:00.001-06:00

This Saturday marks 16 years that The Tire Guy and I will have been married. We've done so much together that sometimes....it blends together, like when the cheese melts into the hot potato soup. That is our life together; a really big bowl of baked potato soup with cheese melted in. OK, OK, it's more than that. Much more, but how to wrap it in a package or stick it in a box? Impossible!

I'm not even going to try. But there are some highlights that I'll share with you that make up the soup, and make up the reasons that we're just good together.

I've learned over the years that nobody is better at loving TTG than I am. I'm good at it. For some he might be considered an acquired taste, and so would I, but I work for him, and he works for me, and somehow, it just works.

He is my champion when others are just my friends, acquaintances, or something much worse. I was watching Eat, Pray, Love and Julia Roberts says, "I'm so sick of people telling me I need a man." And the guy says, "You don't need a man, you need a champion." Yes, that is what I'm talking about. A champion is someone who will call you on your bullshit just as often as they'll help you achieve your dreams and then urge you to dream bigger.

My book is an excellent example of this. I attended college to become a Dental Assistant. I didn't go to school to learn how to be a writer, but by being married to TTG he never laughed when I told him I wanted to write a book. He simply said, "You should." And so I am. That is a champion. Simple I suppose, but just the support I needed to push forward and just do it.

The Tire Guy is under appreciated. He has a dry sense of humor that is lost on many, but not me. I get him. I get him like nobody else seems to get him. I know how to bring out the best in him just as he brings out the best in me. It's magical when it happens this way. Truly.

Now, is it all sunshine, roses and unicorns? Hell no. Emphasis on the Hell. We have been through our fair share of tough times but those things make us stronger, help us to make different choices next time and somehow all the bumps in the road get ironed out. Sometimes you just have to buy a higher quality tire. Sorry, couldn't help myself. We are talking about The Tire Guy, after all.

I love him. For all that he is and for all that I hope we will be in the future. I love him and he loves me. I don't even mind giving the back rubs....but don't tell him I said so. I'd hate for him to take advantage.

Happy 16th Anniversary to us.

Make a nice day!!

Lackadaisical

2011-09-09T10:19:00.003-06:00

Well, this is new. I just realized that Blogger has made some changes. It's sort of like waking up to realize there is a whole bunch of new panties in your underwear drawer. They weren't there when you went to bed last night, and though part of you misses the comfort of the tried and true pairs that have kept you going for longer than they should have, you still look forward to trying out the new goods in the drawer. This is me, trying out the new goods from Blogger. As a reader, you won't notice any changes, but I'll know I'm wearing new panties.

So I didn't exactly get back to my continuation of yesterday. Life, ya know? It has a way of speeding by when we least expect it. Anyhow, so The Tire Guy went on a business trip recently and will return today. I missed him. Though Little Man and I ate our favorite thing that TTG doesn't like, so I kind of feel like we made it worth our while.

I am getting a cold which really pisses me off. Little Man had one but it was weeks ago, and now....this. Very frustrating. I'm hoping to try and slow down to first gear for the next couple days and kick it in the butt. We'll see how that goes.It took me four days to get caught up from the camping trip where I fried my skin. My skin is still not recovered. I look very much like I have the plague or that I'm related to a reptile that sheds its' skin. It's so not pretty. Combine that with the cold that is knocking on my door and I have had days where I've felt sexier....that's for sure.

I did get the lawn mowed on Wednesday. At the beginning of lawn mowing season, I get a little excited about it. It's new. It's a sign that the sun will warm the earth and summer days are coming. By September, I'm ready to be done mowing. It's time. I'm ready to watch the leaves turn, and the grass to hibernate. It's time. I'm ready to have a break from the lawn care. I can't imagine I'm alone in this.

Lately, if I had a word, it would be....lackadaisical. I think as a Libra, I'm heading into a phase of no motivation. It is said that we Libra's do that as a way to find balance between our bursts of energy. I suppose that makes sense. I go, go, go, of course I do, I have OCD and then I stop and I lay on my bed, fondling the remote control and watching an abundance of Lifetime television. I was thinking about this tendency recently, and I wondered how I ever did that when I was a working girl. Not a "working" girl, but a working girl. Oh, you know what I mean. The only answer I could come up with is that I did and that those were probably the times when I got back reviews at work. Sometimes, I just don't feel like doing anything. Isn't there a song about that? I think there is.

I just looked up lackadaisical to be sure that was my word...it is.

Thankfully the writing comes naturally no matter what sun is in Venus' moon or whatever. Do I know much about astrology....um.....no. Though sometimes for kicks I Google Sun Signs. Daily horoscopes? No Sun Signs? Yes They pretty much have me nailed to the floor. As a Libra, I'm very predictable. Boring, I suppose, but it is what it is.

Now, I have to go bake potatoes. I'm making soup. Fall is here, right?

Make a nice day.

3 Minutes To Catch Up

2011-09-08T14:07:00.000-06:00

Yes, that's right. I've allowed myself three minutes to tell you a whole lot. Lists usually work better for me when I'm under time restraints, so.....

Went camping for Labor Day. Burned my lips. Burned my shoulders. I'm pretty sure I have some idea of what Hell will feel like now. This is what happens when I drink to much on day 1 of camping....in the sun. Or on the sun. I can't remember. Just kidding. The weather was pretty good. Too good. I burned my lips so badly that I woke up two mornings in a row looking like a low rent version of Angelina Jolie. More on that later.

Little Man started school. Two days into it a boy named Jesus (insert joke here) hit my Little Man. This happens again and The Tire Guy and I might just be having a coming to Jesus. LOL

He didn't want to go to school today. I'm hoping it's not Jesus' fault. Maybe he was just tired. I've always wanted Little Man to love school, to love learning....we'll see if I get my wish. The first week of first grade might not be the time to decide.

And now....I'm out of time. I will post this and hopefully have time for a continuation, later.

Make a nice day!

Feeling Stifled

2011-08-30T17:13:00.000-06:00

Ever have that one thing that you want to say, and you just can't? Or maybe you can, but you shouldn't? Yeah. Yeah. Me too. It's hard to get the stink out of the laundry when you're required to keep it all in the hamper. There is something to be said for airing your dirty laundry. I guess that is why I like blogging so much. It makes a perfect vent when I feel stifled....usually.

Today instead I sit, I stew, and I wonder how long I will feel like doing this laundry instead of sitting around smelling the stench of it. I think people underestimate the power behind letting fly on whatever may be stifling them. Here's an example:

Jane was a really nice girl. Everyone said so. She was funny, insightful, and kind hearted. She detested conflict, though on the rare occasion that it found her, she withdrew inside herself and let fester her issues. Her main issue was with a wild and out of control friend of hers named Cindy. Though Jane loved Cindy so much, she felt pushed by her constantly. It got to the point where Jane stopped calling. Stopped accepting invitations to parties and bars and went about her life more quietly, if somewhat sadly.

Then one day out of the blue. Jane received the call that no one wants to ever get. Cindy was dead. She'd killed herself. Cindy had been held to the ground all those years by level headed Jane and when Jane wasn't there, no one else would take her place. No one wanted that job. Jane felt a multitude of emotions, but what was stifling and overwhelming was that she had never told her friend why she left her all alone.....she simply left. She couldn't say what was inside her, couldn't express herself, and neither could Cindy. All the things unspoken destroyed them both.

So, I guess I would say, if you have a beef, grill it.

Make a nice day!

It Has To Work For Me

2011-08-24T11:52:00.001-06:00

We've had company this week. R2 is here and she needed school clothes. Yeah! I noticed a few things while we were mall crawling yesterday. Here is where I share my wealth of knowledge with you. I know, you can hardly wait. It's understandable.

If you haven't learned how to walk in stilettos, don't wear them to the mall. The duck walk, sooo not cute.

If your stilettos are sparkly silver, save them for the club. No one at the mall thinks you're cute.

If you are with a teenager who wears the size 00, prepare yourself....you will feel fat. HUGE!!

Don't eat at Carl's Jr before you shop. Trust me. Don't. Again, you think you look fat, and you'll be right.

Keep a clear head. No matter how much you want to shop for yourself. You can't. You shouldn't. Stay away from the shoes. No, really, cereal. I mean it.

The hot clerk at the trendy store is not hitting on you. He's hitting on your 13 year old niece. It's time to accept and move on.

Be aware that the outfit that is flattering and cute at your house will look wrinkled and frumpy by the time you are finished shopping. It is what it is.

In the future, avoid the mall at all costs. It is not good for the fragile ego of a vapid 34 year old woman. Really. Not.

There endeth the lesson.

Make a nice day!

Moves Like Jagger My Song Du Jour

2011-08-19T16:34:00.000-06:00

Tall Shoes and Unlooped

2011-08-19T16:28:00.000-06:00

Today Little Man had a consultation with an orthodontist. I knew we would pay for letting him be a thumb sucker...not that we're paying but we will. You know. Anyhow. I decided to put on my tall shoes. It is a serious reminder just how tall I am normally. For those of you keeping score, I'm 5' 9" We went to the bank first and a man stood in front of me. A short man. I felt Gi NORMOUS. It was like my own little version of Jack and the Beanstalk. In this film, The Giant will be played by Jules. It was weird, man. I mean really weird. I couldn't take it. I got home and took my shoes off. Woot! I'd rather feel small, feminine....girly. It's hard to do that when I'm staring at the bald spot of the gentlemen in front of me.

I'm out of the loop. I'm pretty sure I'm unlooped. I don't know if I need to watch the news instead of fall asleep to the sound of the news, but I had no idea that someone from the Estee Lauder family bought a baby. Black market babies? Really? I guess in the dark recesses of my mind I knew this sort of thing has occurred, but today, I saw a picture of the baby. The baby that was purchased for $180,000.00 I mean holy shit balls. What kind of people sell babies? Oh, wait, never mind....I know this one. People who are going to Hell sell babies. I'm always trying to encourage more people to consider adoption and there are people out there buying and selling babies. Ugh! Does this whole conversation and thought make anyone else feel the need to shower? I feel dirty. I'd rather prostitution be legalized and someone in a position to do so, change the adoption system in the United States so that more people consider it. Perhaps infertility treatments should cost a whole lot more and adoptions should cost a whole lot less. Don't bristle, it's merely a suggestion. Do I want couples to fall in love, get married, and have the baby of their dreams? Yes, whole- heartily...but if adoption were easier and less expensive, maybe people would consider it before round after round of IVF.

I always feel like there are too many kids in the system and too few families willing to give them a chance. Imagine, for just a moment an America where all kids have found families....where no one wonders if they will age out of the system.....where all children have parents who loved them more than anything in the whole wide world regardless of whether or not they share the same blood. When I look at Little Man, I don't see his differences, I see his similarities. I don't think I feel differently than any other parent. Kids don't care if they have the same eye color as their parents, they care that they are the apple of their parents' eyes.

OK, off my soap box and onto the fluff of the day! My book is getting close, like really close. I posted on Facebook that I'm nearing the end, that I can feel it. It feels good, but in knowing that my book is nearly written, a job of another kind begins. I must then get an agent to read it, love it, and want to help me get it published. All major things. I'm sort of stumbling around in the dark with most of this, but if the teenage girl who wrote a book on her cell phone can get it done, then I'm confident that I can too.

And in other news: Avon has come out with the coolest, most revolutionary skin care product I have ever tried, and yes, I've tried it. It's called Anew Genics. It's so good. You can purchase a trial size for only $1.99 The item number is 927682 And, right now, all online orders over $10 ship for free. Seriously, I know I sound like my own little infomercial, but you won't regret trying this product. Check out my website for details.
youravon.com/juliegreenfield

Alright, that's all folks....for now at least.

Make a nice day!

Hustlers Who Have Lost Their Hustle

2011-08-09T10:24:00.000-06:00

I follow Russell Simmons on Twitter. Aside from the fact that he and I completely disagree about politics, and the whole vegan thing, I still like to see what he's up to. He is a mogul. A hustler. He is a respected and very well off business man. I can respect that. I do respect that.

I was thinking today that Russell was lucky because he got into the game early. He was moving and shaking and making things happen before the invention of Twitter, before the invention of Facebook, before every thing you eat, every time you go to the bathroom, every time you change your clothes can and often is, documented.

I wonder if Russell Simmons would still be struggling to get his first business off the ground if he was Tweeting all the time, or updating his Facebook status. Just something I wonder about. Is the Internet and full access making us better or making us lazy? I guess it depends on the hustler. I would imagine someone like Russell Simmons would still be successful. Hell, the man does meditations on a daily basis. That is commitment. I think in other cases though, people are held back by the full access that can be found on this side of the computer screen. Because the world is there at their fingertips, they don't go outside the safety of their online life and see what is possible. They don't reach. They don't scare themselves at all.

People are stuck in office furniture, making big imprints with their ever expanding butts and not really doing anything. Can I talk? No. Here I sit. No contact with the outside world, blogging my little heart out. The difference? I don't want to be Russell Simmons. I want to be more own special brand of hustler. I want to be someone who thinks of hard work when my name comes up in conversation. I don't want to eat vegan food in the Hampton's with people who air kiss me. Blech!!! That doesn't even sound good. If you've never watched Running Russell Simmons then you might not understand, but I guarantee, you don't want that life either. Nothing about it seems real. Nothing seems valued.

So the lesson I teach myself today.....Step away from the computer. Go outside. Enjoy my life. And never forget how to hustle. Me? Yeah, you might not know it, but I can hustle with the best of them. At least after I've had some coffee. Watch out Russell.....Jules has the hustle.

Make a nice day!

Float

2011-08-05T08:19:00.000-06:00

There is a movie, I'm pretty sure I've mentioned it before, it's called Home For The Holidays. In it, there is a mother who is very stressed out, she loses her job, she's very sick with a bad cold, she has to go face her family in her childhood home and she's leaving her teenage daughter behind to have Thanksgiving with her boyfriend.

The daughter, someone who doesn't stress about life and hasn't had cause to yet, tells her mother, "Float, just float. Like the time when we went snorkeling, and we saw all the angel fish. Just float, Mom."

I was thinking of that today while I was looking at our finances, cussing Dave Ramsey (who is entirely too upbeat for my taste) and hoping that I could figure out how to destress our own personal situation. Ugh!

"Float, just float", I thought. But what if floating isn't that easy? What if the thing that stresses you out, whether it be money, jobs, marriage, children, what if there isn't any clear cut answer to allow the floating to happen? Instead of floating, I'm doing something akin to a teeth clenching, can't breathe, fetal position panic attack. Does it help? No, as a matter of fact it doesn't. Am I able to stop myself right now? No, as a matter of fact I'm not.

The only consolation is that I know we aren't alone. Grown ups throughout the world are busy making tough decisions that cause them to clench their teeth too. I guess it's a matter of perspective. So here is my list of "At Least"

At least I don't have to decide who gets the last sip of milk.
At least I don't have to worry that LM is going to be recruited into some crazy children's military in Africa.
At least I don't have to wear a burka and fear for my safety when I go to store to buy more milk.
At least I don't hear gunshots in my neighborhood.
At least I don't have to hear my son cry as he goes to bed hungry.
At least I live in the United States of America, a place where I have choices, even if the choices are hard.

Float, just float.

Make a nice day!

Barbie's Dream House

2011-08-04T11:54:00.000-06:00

There are only a few problems that I foresee. Only a few. Like fifty.
My name isn't Barbie. I wouldn't tell you if it were.
The house in the picture is my dream house. Can't you see it with landscaping and a long, elegant driveway. A view that goes on for miles? I can see it.
This house is in Utah, and although Utah is great, and weird, and bizarre in ways only Utahns can understand, I'm not sure Utah is where we want to live forever.

If you get your dream house, you want to live in it FOREVER. If you don't then something has gone very wrong.

This house is being built for someone else. Her name probably isn't Barbie either. If it is, I'm hiring a hitman.

The Tire Guy and I decided that they put that awesome patio on the wrong side. The whole house needs to be flipped around. The boiling Utah sun will fry eggs on that patio. No, it will. The patio faces West. It will have sun that will make you feel like your face is melting off. It doesn't exactly scream, "Let's have a party on the patio." It does however scream, "Barbecue" but the people will be on the menu.
"Hey, whatever happened to the Jones family?" "Oh, well they got invited to a barbecue at Jules' dream house."

It's not finished. I'm not good at the work that is involved with finishing a place like that. I'd rather have some hot shot landscape designer and interior designer make it outstanding. It's a dream house. I can dream.

The economy sucks, so unfortunately we are not that close to being able to afford the dream house.

Have I ever mentioned how much I hate the word, economy? I have? Oh, well, here's some other words I hate.....recession, economists, news anchor, bipartisan, politics, Obama, Barrack, unbiased. OK, OK, you get the picture.

Did you know that once upon a time, our home was valued at $50,000 more than it currently is? Oh, yours too? Sucks big things that I shouldn't mention, doesn't it?

The other non-Barbie Barbie won't appreciate it. She'll drive her fancy car up to it, and complain about all the things that are wrong with it. She won't lay in the middle of the Italian marble floors and bask in the beauty that is her dream home. She won't. I would love it. I would appreciate it. I would lovingly clean, polish, and kiss it. Or something like that. The other non-Barbie Barbie will probably just hire someone else to take care of it.
Oh to be Barbie. Oh to have her dream house. I don't want the big boobs or the plastic haired Ken....but I do want her dream house.

My dream house.

But then that is why I took a picture of it. Someday! Someday you beautiful creature. Someday!

Make a nice day!

A Little While

2011-08-03T13:29:00.000-06:00

I want to be her for a little while. The girl that shakes her head around as she dances. The careless one. The girl who feels rythm in her heart and walks it out in her soul. The girl who dreams of huts on stilts in tropical places she's never seen.

She's wild and adventurous, crazy and shapely. She tastes life like sugar on her tongue. She thinks and feels erotic things. They ooze like sweat from her pores. She wants more, always more, but stretches lazily in the comfort of what she has. She moves like a predator. She speaks like melted butter. She earns what she gets and keeps what she earns. She makes no apologies.

She loves with fire and passion that consumes her lover. She wishes and dreams and grabs for it. She holds on tight. She works and sweats, pants and kisses. She is all powerful.

She's always full throttle, over the top, out of the ballpark, balls to the wall, scare the shit out of you go girl, and she doesn't care if it scares you.

She is me.

Somewhere, here and there. She is me.

Hey Mama

2011-08-03T13:20:00.000-06:00

Summing Up Seattle

2011-08-01T17:14:00.001-06:00

This picture sort of sums up our trip to Seattle. Did we drive? Yes....a very, very long way. Utah isn't exactly close to Washington. Did we get drunk? Yes.....very, very drunk. Woot! You'll be happy to know we didn't do both at the same time. Too stupid, and although I am juuuust stupid enough to put my hood up and wear sunglasses and bar hop around Seattle I'm not that stupid.

Seattle was great, and fun, and you can buy beer and wine in Walgreens. Woot! #2 We didn't really "do" anything this time though. The Tire Guy and I greatly wish we would have gone salmon fishing, like the last time we were in Seattle but for whatever reason, it didn't work out. The upshot, we were upgraded to a suite. Apparently our name came up in a drawing and voila'.....suite. The suite? It was sweeeeeet!

We went to the oldest saloon in Seattle, called The Central. Our bartender, her name was Bob. Well, at least, she said her name was Bob. Actually, her name was Cecily, and she was the nicest person ever for putting up with our dumb drunk asses. She said that she always gives a fake name. I think she's smart, but we winkled out of her, the real thing. Thank you Cecily for being part of one of the most fun days I've ever had.

We talked to the Flying Fish guys from the fish market. They were cool, and funny and wanted to know where I got the cool hoodie I'm wearing in the photo. It says Happy Salmon on it. And in case anyone else wants to look like the unibomber, I bought it at Simply Seattle. Great store.

Strangely enough, I never had any great seafood dinners while we were there. Bad luck I guess. I did have some pretty incredible crab dip though, and TTG found a beer that he really liked, but you can't buy it here in Utah. I know, big surprise.

Well, Little Man is currently in the middle of a time-out-melt-down so I guess I'd better go. I can only stand to hear the screaming for oh so long.

Make a nice day!

If I'd Only Just Do It

2011-07-28T09:42:00.000-06:00

Hi, my name is Jules. I am a writer, a blogger, a Mama, a wife, a sexy goddess, um wait....no I'm not a sexy goddess but I wanted to be. To continue, I'm a procrastinator, I'm a Libra, I'm a Christian, I'm a sinner, I'm a bitch (sometimes) I'm motivated, I'm direct (usually) I'm going to stop now before I dig myself a big ol' hole and have someone push me in it.

It's been like FOREVER since I blogged but I have been writing my book. And speaking of writers. I follow a very well known writer on Twitter. It makes me wonder, with all the time she spends tweeting, how does she also manage to write books? Lots and lots of books? I am definitely not at her level and yet she Tweets, she writes books like she has diarrhea of the pen, she does television interviews and speaks on the radio, she is like SUPER WRITER. What gives? I want that. I want that kind of notoriety and I want that kind of determinism. I am determined to finish my book. I am determined to blog more regularly, but sometimes life gets in the way.

Let me define 'life' for you, in case you aren't sure.

Life: a six year old boy, a handsome, hardworking husband, two dogs, a dead bird, a lawn that needs mowed, errands that need run, beds that need made, dinner that needs planned, a yard sale that needs tagged, a floor that needs cleaned because something keeps sticking my tennis shoes to it, a truck that needs washed again, a door frame that needs painted, toes that need painted, a nap that needs taken (but it just won't happen) a checkbook that needs balancing, time that keeps ticking.

Now that I think about it, that list could go on forever. And while I'm fond of lists, the list will only get longer if I don't get on it. So, until I finally check a few more things off that crazy running tally of shit, I will have to say, soon, but just not sure when. Soon. Like tomorrow maybe. Besides I have some thoughts that I've been dying to share with you. More random thoughts about random things. Ya know, that's how I roll. Now, I'm off to make the lawn and mow the beds. :)

Make a nice day!

Pictures Are Mosquito Free

2011-06-30T14:59:00.000-06:00

Bear World Albino Baby Elk

More Elk at Bear World

Petting Zoo at Bear World

Yellowstone Park 1 Bison 2 Turkeys

Old Faithful Flexing Its' Muscle

Elk mama and baby in Yellowstone

Fierce Eyes before the trip began. :)

Swimming bear at Bear World

Stop. Turn. Stop. Smile

Heading toward Mammoth. Gorgeous

Yellowstone and Back Again

2011-06-28T17:26:00.000-06:00

We went on a family vacation. Just got back yesterday. It was fun. I bought every souvenir from here to Old Faithful. I have pictures. Yes, I have pictures, but did I take the time to upload them before I started blogging my little heart out? Um, no, no I didn't. I took my book. It's set in Montana so I thought I should write while I was there. I didn't. I did however realize that the feel that I'm giving the story because of Montana is fitting. Now, after I do mountains of laundry, plan my outfit and the potluck food for the block party, and plan for our next trip, maybe I'll get back to writing the book.

I was asked fairly recently when I would be finished with it. My answer, again, is...."I just don't know." I'm hoping that it will at some point just feel finished. That's the best answer I can give. Anyhow, back to my vaca. I got up close and personal with buffalo. They were so close that I could have reached out our window and touched them. There were lots and lots and lots of buffalo (bison) and there were babies. So cute. The babies are red where mom and dad are brown. The buffalo seem to like the road. They caused multiple traffic jams and eventually The Tire Guy didn't like them so much. Just between you and I, I thought they were cool and I could have waited all day for the them to move out of our way. Part of me wanted to put on an Indian costume and run around with them on horseback. Not that it would be safe. It's my imagination, what can I say.

We saw elk. Not nearly as many as we would have liked, and we saw some bald eagles. No moose unless you count the one moose that lives in Bear World, a tourist attraction outside of Rexburg Idaho. Bear World was pretty amazing. They have baby bears, grizzly bears, black bears, elk, and deer. They also have a petting zoo and rides for the little kids that don't cost any extra. Yeah!!

I went river rafting on the Galatin River. My feet were freezing, I was starving, and yet, it was amazing. It was only a Class I scenic trip, but still I got the bug. I didn't think that was possible for me. I am not a water person. Perhaps I've mentioned. I told TTG that I just might have to take some adult swimming classes so that I can confidently tackle a Class II or maybe a III.

We stayed at a fancy, schmancy RV park. It would have been incredible, except...dun dun dun....MOSQUITOES. Big, fat, blood sucking mosquitoes were everywhere, like swarms of locusts, like a plague. To make matters worse, Little Man is apparently allergic to them. After the rafting trip, his face swelled up like his forehead swallowed a golf ball. Thank God for Benedryl and the fact that our traveling companions suggested we leave a day early and head south. So we did. We ended up at Lava Hot Springs. We went swimming. We played with the Frisbee. We had a fire. We drank margaritas. We were outside. It was so relaxing that I almost forgot it was our last day of vacation. It could have been our first day. Ahh, bliss.

My parents celebrated their 40th wedding anniversary while we were gone. Am I proud? Hell yes I'm proud. I'm proud to say they are still together. I'm even more proud to say that they still love each other. My parents are an incredible example of what marriage should be. Am I bragging? Hell yes I'm bragging. It seems that in this day and age too many people go into marriage thinking only about the present and never about sticking it out for the long haul. Perhaps the marriage vows should be changed to suit the times. For better or worse would be for now and maybe later. Till death do us part would be, till I find someone hotter. Ugh!

I know that everyone has a different story, and not all relationships are meant to be but I just wish some people would take it seriously. I wish people would turn off the wandering eye and remember what it felt like to only have eyes for their spouse. I'm just sayin'.

Well, I've cleaned some, I've blogged some, and I still have so much more to do. Pictures to come. Buffalo pictures. I know you can't wait. Hee Hee Hee

Make a nice day!

Radio Dear

2011-06-16T12:03:00.000-06:00

I am on Facebook. I check it almost daily. I'm one of those people that likes to see what's up, who's up for what, who's complaining about what....things like that. I've always had that voyeuristic quality. It's the same reason that I like reality television.

One of my "friends" on Facebook is a DJ of a local radio station that The Tire Guy and I love to listen to, KBUL, lovingly known as K-Bull 93 or The Bull. County music speaks to me gently every morning from the alarm clock on TTG's side of the bed. My latest favorite is "Who Are You When I'm Not Looking" by Blake Shelton.
Anyhow, DJ Shotgun Jackson poses different interesting questions on Facebook, and as many of you know, I love to share my opinion....often times unsolicited but not in this case. He wrote me a message via FB asking if I would call the show the next morning to talk about their subject du jour. *sigh*

Truth be told I got a bit shy. 1. I have a voice that sounds quite similar to Mickey Mouse. (Poor Jules) 2. I think I do better when I write than when I speak. Once you meet me, I'm anything but shy, but to put myself out there on the radio....I kind of panicked. Kind of like the time I panicked at ballet class and had to quit. Kind of like the time I panicked before snorkeling. I'm ashamed of myself for not just jumping in with both feet, but I fancy myself a writer....not a speaker.

I'm kicking myself for not being more brave. I wish my friend M could have been here. She has a voice like melted butter and I could write down what I want her to say. But me? Me? I'm-just-too-shy. It's the same reason that I don't sing karaoke. It's the same reason that I could model, but not act. I'd have to speak. Take my picture, yes. Read my words, yes, please, yes. But speaking......La mia voce mi fallisce. My voice fails me.

Yes, I realize I wrote in English, French and Italian. I'm expanding my horizons, or I'm trying. Dear Lord, Make me braver. Amen

Make a nice day!

Family Drama

2011-06-10T09:17:00.001-06:00

I know there are certain things I shouldn't write about, and yet I do anyhow. Things like sex, money, politics, gossip, friends, and family. Wow, that doesn't leave much. See the problem is that you never know when something is going to offend someone. Ok, sometimes I know but sometimes I don't care.

Here are the reasons I don't care:

I'm telling my story. Not my fault if it involves you.

My stories are from my perspective....if you would like them told from your own perspective, then you write the blog.

I believe in being as honest as possible. If my honesty hits close to home for you, then I suggest investing in thicker skin.

Blogs aren't interesting when they are all kids pictures and rainbow painted lives. I've seen those and they put me to sleep every time. Do I post pictures of my kid, sure....but then I try and keep it lively with something that isn't just a narrative on how perfect life is.

So let me tell you what it's like in this family. In any family. There is drama. There is drama spewing from the faucets of our lives. I say "any family" because I think that is normal. I watch a lot of television. I'm not scared to admit it. It's true. I love television and the one thing I know from all that tv experience is that drama is common.

Let's explore a few examples. (Some of my favorites.)

Run's House: They have a lot of kids, and the kids all have strong opinions, and Rev Run is funny, and creative and loving toward his family. Drama Run's Rampid at Run's House

Tori & Dean: Tori and Dean fight, and make up, and have babies, and buy Bed and Breakfasts, and chickens, and fight, and make up, and throw lavish parties, and now..they plan weddings together. Drama!!!

Braxton Family Values: There is so much drama coming from those people that you automatically assume that it's scripted but then you realize that you couldn't script the stuff that comes out of their mouths.

The Real Housewives: (All the cities) It makes me thankful for the kind of drama that we live with. Really, really, really, really thankful. Those women are selfish, indulged, plastic pieces of work, and I don't mean that in a good way....and yet....like a train wreck....I can't not look. Drama to the max!

Keeping Up With The Kardashians: Where to start....Kim, Kris, Khloe, Kourtney, Kendall, Kylie, and then there are the poor outsiders who don't have a K name....like Rob, Bruce, Lamar....and who could forget Scott. Yes I watch, yes the mind boggles. It can't be helped. There is so much drama that they all need and have their own shows....or have had....for the most part. As crazy as they are, and as much as they all have going on....I still think it would be fun to be a Kardashian. Much can be said about them, and has been said, but you can still feel the love....and the drama.

Supernanny: Here is an example of real people who don't live their lives on television usually, and yet....major, major drama is coming out of these houses. Mostly when it's time to make their kids go to bed. Something every parent can relate to I think. Drama!

So when it comes to my families' drama....I'd say we're average. Normal. Drama is to be expected because all the personalities are not always going to mesh perfectly, and what a boring life if they did. One thing I know for sure, they have my back and I have theirs. We don't always express it exactly perfect, but it is always there. I love them more n my luggage.

I think I'll go watch The Blindside. It reminds me how precious it all really is.

"This team is your family Michael. You have to protect it."

OK Mama

Make a nice day!

Yesterday

2011-06-06T18:14:00.000-06:00

Alright so it wasn't exactly yesterday that I was here....it was....it was....not yesterday. Whatev. New subject. My blog, my rules. Hahahahaha!!! That was meant to sound sinister. I've always wanted to sound sinister, but I have a high pitched girl voice. Ugh! Not that I want a guy voice....that would be creepy.

Interesting and big things have been happening in the lives of other people. For instance, my niece, R1 went to State with her softball team. Big deal, and we are hugely proud. The Tire Guy wanted to be there so badly and just surprise her but tickets were around $600. That's more than we paid for the Subaru. It is very frustrating when you want to do something great and lack the funds to carry out your plan. Oh well, perhaps my book will someday be a bestseller and I'll fly TTG to whatever game he pleases. (Pardon me while I dream of fame and fortune, or just fortune.)

Our wet Spring came to an abrupt halt this weekend when we had warm days. Our hallway where the temperature can be read....said....wait for it.....80 degrees. I didn't sleep so well. Should have turned on the a/c but I'm cheap sometimes. It was so warm that I laid out in my back yard in the sunshine trying to brown myself ever so slightly and not burn. 1/2 mission accomplished. I didn't burn, but I didn't really brown either. Oh to have olive skin. Sticking my tongue out at my beautiful olive skinned friends. *tthmmpt*

Jump back. I have been working on my book again, a bit more diligently of late. I'm very excited about it again, though I sometimes wish for some guidance. Whom does one ask about writing? Well, a writer of course...."hello?? hello? Is anyone here?" *the sound of crickets* Sadly, I know no writers.

Sometimes as I'm writing I get caught up in the details, what is she wearing, what expression is on her face, or his, what does the sky look like, what kind of car is she driving, does it have four wheel drive, should she notice things like four wheel drive, or things that are vitally important like describing to DEATH the way a certain moment has made my heroine feel. Don't pay any attention, these are merely the self doubting thoughts of a hopeful writer wanting to be better than I am.

And on that note, is anyone else plagued by phlegm? It's been awhile since I was sick and yet, phlegm....on nearly a daily basis. It's gross. It's like I've been taken over by aliens....like they have crawled down my throat, and the foreign body has created an overactive immune system response....therefore....phlegm. Oh, and the word of the day: phlegm. I just wondered how many times I can get the word phlegm in a paragraph. Let's see: phlegm, phlegm, phlegm. My English teacher, Mrs. B would say that was cheating...so, those don't count. I will mention that Little Man likes to use the word phlegm and tell me about his own phlegm on a regular basis. Having kids is sure an adventure. Not just a clean adventure like you might see in a bad movie, but like messy, dirty Indiana Jones type adventure...there are snakes and caves and spiders and cobwebs and phlegm and crazy zombies saying "CAW LEE MA" The only thing my adventure is missing is a kid who accuses me of cheating...oh wait, I have that too. "You cheat Doctor Jones) (Pardon the Indy references. If you've never seen the movies then none of that made any sense.)

For those who haven't abandoned me in this time of disgusting displays, I'm grateful, and I'll say...picture this, pink puffy clouds. That was always my yoga mantra during tadasana...or whatever it was called. I can't remember, I was a terrible student. I was the kid that loved to be there but paid little attention to the rules.

I entered a contest to win a car. So far, no one has called me. Color me bummed. I'm moving on from the issue with the friend. I can't have sleepless nights and anxiety over it.....it's a waste of time. What if I'm hit by a bus tomorrow....that would suck. Though the odds are good that I won't be hit by a bus. I never see buses and when I do, I'm in my truck, and that Toyota has so many airbags that I feel very safe.

Because I don't want to make someone elses story my own, I want to only say, if you pray, please pray for a friend of mine....she and her family have had more than their fair share of difficulties to deal with. They need good news, they need a break, they need positivity and blessings sent their way. You know when you think things suck because you got a flat tire or your friends treat you poorly or you lost your job....then you see someone who has it worse. Perspective. That's all I'm saying.

Make a nice day!

I Got Nothin'

2011-06-02T15:57:00.000-06:00

I'm at a loss...completely baffled, stumped and bewildered.

What did I ever do to you?

Did I piss in your Cheerios?

Did I pop your balloon?

Did I steal your boyfriend?

What have I done to you?

There is nothing more frustrating that getting the stink eye from someone you thought was your friend only to reason they are angry at you for.....for.....for.....what? I don't know what I've done. Do I offend? Is it my life, my choices, my words, or my beliefs that have your panties in a twist? And which part of that do you think I'm going to change on your behalf?

Let me answer that second part for you.....I won't change to please you.

*sigh* I have friends who would do anything for me and vice versa. I know people who would literally give me the shirt off their back if I needed it and vice versa. I know people who ask how I'm doing and honestly care about the answer and vice versa. I know people who love me for me....the good and the bad, and vice versa. I know people who don't care if I look good, great, or "holy shit what are you wearing bad" and vice versa.

And then I know people who don't.

I guess my lesson in venting like this, is that I need to quit wasting my breath, my heart, my time, and my sleep on the people who don't return the favor.

Make a nice day!

to talk without thinking is to shoot without aiming

2011-06-02T15:40:00.000-06:00

Today

2011-06-01T13:02:00.000-06:00

Good afternoon everyone, and thank you for joining us. I went and helped out a friend/neighbor today. She runs a daycare and needed someone to fill in for a couple hours. It occurred to me how much I like and miss having a trampoline. Really, is there anything filled with more multifunctional fun and potential broken bones. Don't worry, all is well. No one broke a bone on my watch. No siree!

It reminded me how fun it is to jump, in the air....high in the air with sounds of children laughing. Probably at me. Ahh, the trampoline. A moment of bliss in my uber weird day.

Why was it uber weird you ask? Well, the registration needs to be renewed on our car. Hmph! To do so, first you must have a safety and emissions inspection done. Check. And in our case, the studded tires needed to come off. Check Check. And the windshield needed to be replaced. Check Check Check. Or should I say.....cash. Ugh! I mean really. It cost a fortune to drive anywhere. Insurance isn't exactly cheap. And then they get you with safety, emissions, AND a registration fee. Excuse me while I cough up a lung to pay the State of Utah.

The only real saving grace is that somehow our little Subaru is still getting 30 miles to the gallon. Woot! There is something to be said for good fuel economy. I just wish there were a way to streamline this whole process......a way that wouldn't cost a fortune. Hang on, I need to calculate. (Jeopardy theme plays) So far we have spent $480 to re register a $500 car. Suddenly I feel nauseous.

And in other news: I don't like the way dresses are not being designed these days. I am not finding anything stylish, beautiful, grown up but not meant for a grandma type dresses. It's like designers have all been cheating off the same paper. Oh, and I don't want to pay a fortune for a dress that I'll only wear a few times maybe.

The ones I've found that aren't very expensive either look like they are meant for 12 year old hookers or for my grandma. No offense Grammy. Oh, and no offense to 12 year olds either. It's just I don't want to have a dress so short that I'm exposing my (to borrow a word from my other friend/neighbor) cookie. I also don't want to look like I'm a bridesmaid or going to a funeral and what the f**k is with all the empire waistlines? I mean come on. I may have found a few that might work, but it won't stop me from bitching about all the ugly ones that don't.

One more complaint and then I'm going to go have a nap. Apparently I need one. I have need of a makeover. I have need of some time in a salon chair where someone knows intuitively what color my hair should be, and knows how to cut hair like mine. I have thick, coarse hair....it's nice. (She said sarcastically.) You can't cut internal layers in it or I end up looking like a bushwoman or some crazy flashback to the 80's. I get big Texas hair without trying very hard. Therefore, I wish someone could make me over for less than the price of our Subaru. That's all I will say on the subject. Whatev.

Nappy time for me. Except I have housework to do, homework to help with and swim lessons to drive to. It never ends.

Make a nice day!

Little Wonders

2011-05-31T10:17:00.000-06:00

So you can hear what I'm feeling.

Bonded

2011-05-31T10:12:00.000-06:00

I made the mistake of suggesting Meet The Robinson's as the family movie that we watched on Sunday. That movie always makes me cry. It's a cartoon, and meant to be funny but they play that song at the end and that montage of moments where Lewis is adopted and I just, I just, I just....

Anyhow, I was thinking about Little Man as he sat in my lap and held my hand and wouldn't stop wiggling....because he's six. This is what I thought:

I don't know what it's like to carry a baby in my tummy. I don't know what it's like to push him out into the world after months of waiting and wondering what he'll be like. I don't know the pain of childbirth or if biological moms are instantly bonded with their child, but what I do know is that I wasn't.

I knew I was scared. I knew I was excited. I knew I wanted to love and protect that Little Man with every fiber of my being but it didn't happen like lightning striking. The bonding seemed to take time. It took worrying over a fever or a cough. It took cuddling and holding and nurturing and time. It took time. It took being there for the first boo boo, the first tooth, the first coo, the first diaper, the first tantrum. It took time.

I sometimes wish it had been instant....so that I don't feel like I missed anything. Sometimes in my parental anxiety, I feel like I'm missing too much. Why didn't the bond come instantly? Did I do something wrong? I don't really think so. I just think, like with any other relationship, it takes time. Now, when I look at LM, I see how deeply bonded we are. I think about how much I love the smell of his hair. The tilt to his smile. The way he seems to have my sense of humor. I think about how by actively loving our child every day, a bond was formed. An unbreakable bond that will last our whole lives.

I'm grateful that bond was formed so that when he's naughty I'm not tempted to sell him to the gypsies. Are there still gypsies? Just checking. You never know when you might need them.

Make a nice day! ;)

That Time Again

2011-05-27T09:54:00.000-06:00

It's that time of year again when things go from crazy to wait a dang second.....from crazy to even more crazy. When are the lazy, hazy, dazy days of summer going to be here, and why is it that we never get to experience them like that?

Hmm? It's possible we put ourselves in this predicament. It's possible we overbook, overextend and overdo it in every aspect of our lives. Little Man just finished up his last soccer game on Wednesday, but we've decided to sign him up for summer soccer as well, so it will start back up again in June. He is in the middle of swim lessons and after those are finished, I'll be resigning him up for another round, and another round until that child is peeing chlorinated water and growing gills....or something like that. I want him to be the swimmer I never was. I want him to love the water so that when he is 14 and a friend invites him to go boogie boarding or water skiing, it won't induce a panic attack.

Currently he is working at putting his face in the water. Maybe I should be in class with him. They do offer adult swim classes, because apparently I'm not the only freak around. Here's the thing. I can swim...well enough. I could save my own life, but actually jumping in the water on purpose just doesn't sound good. That doesn't deter me from wanting to look incredible in a swimsuit though....in fact, I figure if I look really great in a swimsuit then if something awful does happen, somebody would be more likely to want to rescue me. (What can I say? This is simply how my mind works.)

As for the horribly morose letter that I posted yesterday....I'm better today. I'm getting on with it, as I knew I would. Being a natural sap, I will have naturally sappy moments. That just happened to be one of them. Sorry if anyone was considering calling a psychologist for me. I'm better now. The big girl panties are currently in place...and I'm moving on.

We thought about trying to go camping this weekend and we even got invited by our kick ass friends in the hood, but we decided we needed to take this long weekend to catch up on some things that are looong overdue, and also maybe hit some yard sales. It's become a new favorite hobby of ours.

Let me just take a moment to appreciate my crock pot. I know I've said it before, but it must be said again....putting something frozen and unappealing looking in the crock pot in the morning and having a warm, delicious meal ready in the evening.....it's like cooking magic. No where else in the kitchen are meals made so easily....fix it, and forget it. Yeah!! There is even a crock pot cook book called, "Fix It, And Forget It". How awesome is that? Yesterday, I put chicken breasts and barbecue sauce in the crock pot...and last night, there was the makings of barbecued chicken sandwiches. Holla! Thanks to my neighbor for the recipe.

The Tire Guy ran to the store last night and came back with Twix PB. That is love. He knows what I like. The clouds parted, and the angels sing. Laaaaaa!!!! I love it when he thinks of me in little ways that speak volumes. It reminds me how much I have to be grateful for.

It's been cold here lately.....like "brrr, the house is freezing this morning, crawl back into bed and pull the covers over my head" kind of cold. And yet, I let Little Man talk me into letting him wear shorts to school...but I'm quite certain that kid's thermostat is off. He is so very rarely cold. When he was a baby, the doctor used to scold me for over bundling him. He would say, "If you're too warm, he's too warm." And I would say, "But Doc, it's winter, I'm not warm." No wonder Little Man had colic as a baby....his idiotic mother was trying to cook him with blankets and fuzzy jammies. It's just a theory.

Well, I'm off to make my house all spic and span before the weekend....the last thing I want to do for three days off with my peeps is vacuuming, laundry and dishes....at least, more than normal. Hope everyone has a great weekend and remembers all those in military service. It is after all, Memorial Day weekend.

Have a nice day!

Miss You Like Crazy

2011-05-26T18:01:00.000-06:00

D,

I miss you. I hate you. I love you. Or rather, I hate that you don't read my blogs so this is very much like sending a letter in a bottle on the sea. Oh well. I know that I have you no matter what. I know that I love you no matter what. That's all that counts. Things happen to me, and I feel lost....like the bottle on the sea. I wish we could talk about it. It's not the same on the phone. The phone just isn't good enough.

Oh dear, here come the tears. Yes, I'm still a boob. I can't help it. I have an anam cara and she isn't here to share all this stuff with. It's silly I guess. I'll get over it, and then it will come back. Like a flood. Like the time you snapped the doctor in the back of the head with the tourniquet. Hee Hee God I miss you.

I want to sit on the bathroom counter and tell you about everything and nothing. I want to hear your everything and your nothing. I want to swoon over the Aragorn poster in my old locker. Waaaaa!!!! I guess I'm just feeling nostalgic and nobody gets it quite like you do. Did you cut your hair? How are the kids? Did you make Italian food again? Did you bring me any left overs? Will you share your raviolis with me? Will you make me a chocolate cake on my birthday? The kind with multicolored turd sprinkles....like you always did? OK, lots of tears now.

I shouldn't post a letter like this....I should write it, and send it....but I don't want you to be sad like I'm sad. I want you to be happy. I just miss my friend. I'm going to drink a Mike's Hard Lime and miss you for a bit more, then I'm going to blow my nose, wipe my tears, put my big girl panties on, and get on with it.

I hope that you are good. No, I hope that you are freakin' incredible...because you're my friend and I love you. Nothin' but luv for ya.

Sincerely,

Jules

Have a nice day!

Nerve Endings

2011-05-23T14:27:00.000-06:00

I've always been a bit jumpy. I was jumpy the first time I kissed a boy. I'm fairly certain that I discussed it at length with an awesome friend of mine. I was jumpy when I went from grade school to junior high. I was jumpy the first time I ever drove a car. I was jumpy when I went on my first major trip without my family. I was jumpy when I had to deliver a speech. Ugh! Speeches still get me jumpy. I was jumpy when I entered college.

And yet, through it all, I wanted the change. I wanted to experience all that life had to offer. I was jumpy the first time I ever did any "real" modeling....but boy did I ever want to be a model. So, I sucked it up and figured it out. I was never more jumpy than when I knew I was going to be a mom, and still on nearly a daily basis there are things about motherhood that make me nervous. I got jumpy when Little Man was learning to ride a bike. I get jumpy every time Little Man wants to ride his motorcycle. There is a part of me that wants to lock him up with a Nintendo DS in a plastic bubble. I know, I know, it isn't realistic....but it's hard dealing with all the things that make me nervous.

I sometimes wonder, is there an end to being nervous about things. And if there is an ending, are we bored? Does life stop holding thrill for us, and therefore we shrivel up and die....eventually.....from boredom? Maybe being jumpy about things isn't so bad. Maybe, like always, I need to suck it up and figure it out. I could never be someone that is completely satisfied, because who wants that. It doesn't sound like an adventure at all....being completely satisfied means that the adventure is over. Doesn't it?

In small ways only, I wish to be less jumpy. I wish to be someone who can sit and enjoy the drifting clouds and the bright sunshine a bit more. Someone who can see her son enjoy something without looking behind him for the mess to clean up. I think. I think that is what I mean. I want to be a person who relishes in the little moments of joy....and wait before I pass judgement about the state of a bedroom or whether or not homework is done.

It isn't easy though. It takes willpower and gobs of self control. Two things I am in short supply of. I am having a difficult time not picking at my cuticles.....how am I supposed to stop and smell the roses? Currently working on this problem of mine. Silly I guess.

What quirk is affecting your life?

Have a nice day!

Wise Grasshoppa

2011-05-20T13:56:00.000-06:00

I tried McDonald's new Frozen Strawberry Lemonade. It doesn't live up to the hype. Just my opinion.

We are going to Yellowstone National Park next month. My guys have never been. I'm very excited. I haven't been there since I was 12. It was before the BIG fire. Little Man keeps calling it Jellystone. Work for me.

I'm now following Sig Hansen on Twitter. He drinks heavily then tweets. Good times. I may follow his lead. Sounds fun doesn't it?

My horrible habit of picking at my cuticles has now been passed down to Little Man. He picks until he bleeds. Wow, the job I'm doing as a Mama is astounding isn't it? Wait, don't answer that. We've now taken to putting Super Glue on his fingers, and making him wear gloves....just not simultaneously. We aren't that stupid. Usually.

Summer will officially be here on June 9th. The day that Little Man is done with Kindergarden. A day that most parents love and dread. Weird, I know....but true.

It's been raining a lot here in the weird world of Utah. It almost feels like Oregon....just not the part of Oregon I grew up in.

The Tire Guy and I have decided that people who cut into the sides of mountains to build their homes are just asking for trouble. They may be big and beautiful....right up until the mountain slides down on top of them, or until Utah has the massive earthquake they've been predicting until for a hundred years. Then their big, beautiful house may just be a big pile of rubble. Side note: does anyone else think that the word rubble is just weird?

I considered venting about something that happened to me recently but instead I am going to try and be a grown up (yawn) and keep my big fat typing fingers shut....or something like that. Besides, I've already vented to TTG and that did help. So, moving on...

I have discovered recently the real reason I have green eyes. Yes...they're green. Some people have told me they look blue but it's just because they have dark blue rings around them. It's like a blue fence around a green pasture. Don't let the fence distract you...they are green. Anyhow, it's because I'm a naturally jealous person. It's true. I fight against it, but it really is in my nature. It's something I need to work on.

That is all the wisdom I can share today. :) I have housework to do...and if I do it really well and I feel like the house looks awesome then I'll reward myself with some mindless television. Yeah me!

Have a nice day!

Catching Up

2011-05-17T13:40:00.000-06:00

It's been awhile, I admit. Mother's Day was awhile ago and I know that because I have flowers that aren't looking so healthy. They look much like we felt last week. *cough, cough, sneeze, sneeze* It's a lame excuse but I just barely started feeling human this last weekend, conveniently. Since there was a ton of things going on it worked out quite well and I only blew my nose 5000 times instead of 10,000 times. Whew!

So, I have a confession. Patrick Dempsey is on the cover of the new Avon brochure. Yeah! Now every brochure is going to pale in comparison. I would hope you don't judge me too harshly. The Tire Guy understands....he's no dummy.

We finally took out the chain link fence in our backyard. When the school was built they put up quite a tall fence and it was right next to ours. We had double chain link...tall, and short. We took out short, thanks to the help of our neighbors. If it had been left up to TTG and I, we would probably still be out there...cussing....loudly! Now the fence is out and it looks much better. The grass is a little worse for wear but it's no worse than having a female dog with acidic urine. Oh the joys of being a pet owner. Don't get me wrong, I love my furry children but I don't love poop patrol and I don't love dead spots on the grass. Can you blame me.

Little Man had his Spring Program today at school. He did so great. He even spoke up this time. His line was, "Well shucks, I shore love dancing." He was to say it in a "cowboy" accent. We practiced, and practiced. I even had him yell it at me from the top of the stairs. His problem in the past is that he gets shy and doesn't speak loud enough to be heard. Today though....success! I was so proud. I almost started crying which is completely like me. I held it in, because I didn't want LM to be distracted by his crazy mama. I've been known to cause a scene. I know, I know....shocking!

Guess it is just a shorty today, but I am still playing catch up after all the things I neglected while I was sick. More to come....soonish!

Have a nice day!

No Shortage Of Love

2011-05-06T14:27:00.000-06:00

I have to admit something....I sort of dropped the Mother's Day ball. I made some cards for the Moms in our lives but it wasn't my best work. They deserve better, but alas, I wasn't feeling it. What I was feeling took planning, and money. I see things all the time that make me think of my mom, and The Tire Guy's mom, and yet....we live nine hours away, shipping is expensive and I'm proud when I have more than one dinner at a time planned out. You see what I mean.

However, having said that, there is no shortage of love or admiration I feel for these women. I depend on them, probably more than they realize. I think of them when I'm not sure what to do, because it always seems like moms know what to do. Am I a mom? Of course, but I still need my own Mama for guidance. I need Nanny for a myriad of things that I haven't got a clue how to do. My confession: at 34 years old, I'm still quite sure that moms know everything...and if they don't, they know how to figure it out.

So, my apologies for my "half ass" cards, and here's to you; Nanny.....the person who is so smart and funny. The person who builds her own additions on her house and remodels her own kitchen. The person who has an incredible bond with Little Man. The person who knows how to make the best of things, no matter the circumstances. The person that visits and takes me shopping because you know I never buy myself new jeans. The person that you can call day or night with even the silliest of questions, like how to make huckleberry cheesecake (again). The person that raised an incredible, honorable son, a man who loves his family fiercely. You did that, and you should be proud. Happy Mother's Day!

My Mama....the person that reminds me to pray. The person that makes me think of elegance and grace and honesty above all else. The person that taught me how to do my makeup and how to walk in high heels. The person that told me to always hold my head up high. The person that is a little voice inside my head saying, "you can do anything you put your mind to" when my confidence has taken a hit. The person that celebrates my differences and never puts me down for them. The person that told me to be the most authentic me I can be, and if people don't like it, tough sh**. The person that stood up for me and always stands up with me. Mama, I love you. Don't forget it. Happy Mother's Day!

Always, Jules

Have a nice day!

Always More To Say

2011-05-03T13:42:00.000-06:00

May has kicked off with a bang, or should I say, a "bang, bang, bang". OK, so maybe that is a horrible thing to say. Here's the deal, I am not ready to celebrate at the gates of the White House with the college kids that saved their Obama for Change posters. Firstly, I don't think death is something to celebrate. Am I glad that the world is short a terrorist? Yes, most emphatically. Yet, I still don't feel like celebrating. Secondly, I'm not an Obama supporter. I didn't vote for him and I honestly believe that much of what we've heard about Bin Laden's death has very little to do with our sitting President.

Yet, I'm a patriotic person. I believe in truth, justice and the American way. I believe in the Bill of Rights and I think the United States of America is best place for me to live. Here, I can shoot a gun, drink a margarita and wear a swimsuit in public. :) There are still countries that treat women like property. There are places in this world where women are worth very little. Women cannot vote, women cannot address men, and women can be put to death for a myriad of things that in the U.S. is simply one of my rights.

I wish that all of this didn't feel like a political stunt. I wish that the media would get it straight for once. I wish I didn't have to question, ponder, and requestion everything I hear and see. I'm a not conspiracy theorist. I'm just a girl who doesn't trust the media, because they put a spin on everything. Do I think Bin Laden is dead? Yes I do. Do I think they should release pictures that prove it? No, no I don't. Even if by some miracle, he is still alive, it wouldn't change anything about the U.S. Releasing pictures will only further incite violence against us, and we don't need anymore of that than we already have on our plate.

What can be accomplished by releasing pictures of a dead terrorist? Only more terror. Does the President want other nations to hate and resent us even more? We are an affront to other nations simply by being us. We allow for different religions. We allow for industry to thrive. (At least we used to.) We allow women to vote. We don't have to ask our own government which kind of health care we get....not yet at least. We aren't socialist. Not yet at least. I don't think anyone wants to see just how angry we can make Arab nations, and if we are going to roll that particular set of dice, why not withdraw our money, withdraw our troops, use our own oil...and set back just long enough to watch them destroy themselves. I have a hunch that they would.

Why must the U.S. rescue other countries from their own civil wars? Why must our allies? I don't know very much about all this stuff. I really don't. I just know how it feels to be a U.S. citizen and watch all our resources go elsewhere when we have a shit ton of problems on the home front. I have friends who can't find a job. I sometimes wonder how we'll fill up our truck with fuel. I see people who have the means and the desire to adopt, then go outside the U.S. to do so, when there are too many children to count living in foster care until they are 18 and then "aging out". We have banks that are sitting on short sale homes because they make more money by keeping them than by selling them. We have the cost of insurance going up so much that most people aren't going to the doctor unless they are bleeding out of their eyes. We have stuff to do here at home.

But then, what do I know?

Have a nice day!

Unfinished Business

2011-04-28T16:41:00.000-06:00

I logged onto the computer last night....rather late. OK, so it wasn't so late but at my age, it felt late. It was about 9:30 p.m. I realized that I was mid-blog. Oops. I posted it. I didn't edit. I didn't finish it, not really, I just posted it.

Here's the thing: I decided. I decided to decline the new offer of friendship. It's not that I really hold any ill will about the cookie incident, I don't. It's that I don't want to open the door of possibility for a new cookie incident. Maybe that's wrong of me....but really, in the grand scheme of things, what does it matter? People who really want to be my friend just are....there is no incident that tears us apart and if it does then I guess we weren't the friends I thought.

So, this indecisive bitch is saying, "No". Business? Taken care of. It feels good to decide. It feels good to accomplish, and swing the axe with purpose. I've always wanted to be an action woman. A woman who makes decisions and sticks to them. Someone with a purpose. A purposeful life.

It could be that I've drank too many Diet Pepsi's today, but I decisively cut the lawn and I decisively said "No" to the reburgeoning friendship. Ah, today there is very little of the Libra showing. She'll be back, it is who I am at the core.

On a different note, is it just me or is April dragging on and on and on? It seems as though this month will never end. We're close, aren't we? It seems as though we should be. Not that I have a whole bunch of coolness to look forward to in May, but still....I feel, done with this month. It could be the intermittent snow and rain storms, wind gusts and then bursts of sunshine that last much too briefly. I promise not to complain about the heat this summer. Though someone may have to remind me that I said that. :)

Have a nice day!

What To Do? What To Do?

2011-04-27T20:56:00.000-06:00

Everyday is filled with decisions. Lots and lots of decisions. Like, pancakes or waffles? Do I eat breakfast or just drink coffee? Do I wear a blue shirt or a green shirt? Shoes or boots? What jeans? A dress? One more handful of Easter candy or do I skip it and try and lose some weight? Well, you get the picture.

Sometimes the decisions are really hard. Big, fat, difficult decisions that live in my brain like Jabba The Hut, grunting and stinking and chaining me to my indecision like poor Princess Leia. Not sure why that image popped into my head, but it did. Anyhow, currently I'm faced with a decision that is big. Bigger than, "Do we buy a new truck or do we wait?" We bought the new truck by the way. Waiting is not something The Tire Guy and I are good at. If we ever get a nice day, I'll wash up the new baby and take a picture. Nope, this one is bigger than that. Don't jump off any cliffs people...this isn't about kids or marriage. Let me just make that clear.

It's about a friendship. A friendship that found me from a million years ago....and now, and now....I have a choice to make. That would seem fairly simple, except there is nothing simple about the way our friendship died or even the way that it lived. Can't explain without explaining so let me give you a hypothetical.

There is a girl named Mary Kate. She's funny, fun, if slightly needy. Very disorganized but strangely, she has a great connection with Jade. Jade is a freak of nature. Quirky to the max. Rampant OCD. Comes across as either having a very old soul or very immature. Can't hear the word "balls" without giggling. You get the point. They get along like a house on fire. They do everything together. They rarely fight. They want to be involved in everything the other one is doing, even if it's boring and mundane because when they are together, they make everything fun. Then, duh duh duh, something happens. Mary Kate steals Jade's cookie recipe and passes it off as her own. Jade keeps her mouth shut for awhile but when the Pastor at the church praises Mary Kate for her wonderful cookies, Jade can't hold her tongue any longer. She tells the Pastor, "That is my cookie recipe, and Mary Kate should burn in hell for this crime against me!" (What? Too much?) Mary Kate is enraged and never speaks to Jade again except one time and this is what she says, "You really hurt me the way that you spoke about me to the Pastor." Inside Jade wants to explode. Was she not the one who was wronged? Well? Anyhow, many years pass, and then out of the blue clear sky, Mary Kate sends a letter....a blank letter.

What to do? What to do?

Easter Pictorial

2011-04-26T16:32:00.000-06:00

Or rather, just a picture. I'm always fascinated by new experiences. Utah is full of new experiences....in ways that I never would have expected. Now you all know how I feel about the dumb laws that removed my favorite alcoholic beverages off of grocery store shelves, but also there is some wild, wonderful, and often weird things to see and do here in Utah. Many of which, people who have lived in Utah their whole lives haven't done.

For Easter weekend we went camping. Not mountain camping in the Uintah's because let's face it, there's snow in them there hills....and lots of it. Brrrr. Not like oh, how pretty, a few inches of snow, but wow, hell really has frozen over. I think we'll wait for summer for the mountain camping. Nope, instead we went to a new place. A place very remote. Very quiet. All the eye could see for miles was cows and sage brush, and the occasional farm house. It was kinda awesome. Hard to explain unless you are someone who can appreciate the vast open spaces. Big, wide open spaces that have no traffic, no people, no fashion shows, just space. Don't get me wrong, I love a good fashion show probably more than the next girl, but I love the lack of them too. I like places where pretentiousness doesn't exist.

I like space. Sometimes, it's exactly what I need. I live in the suburbs and although it is nice, clean, and pretty....it's populated. It's overpopulated. There is no such thing as privacy unless your blinds are really good. I like how the wide open spaces remind me just how small I am in such a big world. I wish everyone could know what I mean, but I know many don't even want to know what I mean. They are terrified of feeling small.

Space is the one thing in this world that puts my OCD to rest, if only briefly. I can let go of the control I seek, and know that really, nothing is in my control. It's like God's way of saying, "I got this. You can let go now." Maybe that doesn't make sense to anyone but me, but oh well. It is what it is.

Also, the camping was made better by the laughs we shared with friends, the Easter candy that I gorged on, and the fact that there were no glitches on the trailer. Whew! In fact, the Taj Ma Trailer performed beautifully and is so warm and comforting. Truly one of my most favorite things. If I was a white version of Oprah, I would give away Raptor 5th wheel trailers. That's how I roll.
I said it before, but I'll say it again....Have a nice day!

What One Can Accomplish...When One....Um....I Forget

2011-04-26T11:02:00.001-06:00

It is now 10:52 a.m. It is only a few brief moments before I have to stick to the plan, and go pick up my sweet boy at school. I just thought I would put myself to the ultimate test of skill and typery and see what I could come up with for my blog before the time ticks away and down to "Go Time".

The weather still isn't looking much like Spring. In fact, I'm inclined to find a ground hog and beat the crap out of him just to make myself feel better. Please don't call PETA. One, I think PETA is dumb....they don't like that I wear leather, or eat beef. Whatev. Two, I would hate to go to jail for beating up a PETA representative. LOL Ok, so I hope you all realize I'm joking. I would never beat someone up. Not even a dummy like a PETA rep. Physical violence is sooo not my style. Also, I haven't seen any ground hogs, so I think they're safe.

I smell good. I wish for your sake there was smellonet. Then you could smell the yummy new Avon perfume I'm wearing. I like the name of it. It makes me feel sophisticated. I love the smell of it. I'm sad that you're missing out. If you see me, feel free to take a good long whiff....but only if you're so inclined. I have very few personal boundaries...I'm a hugger too, so watch out.

Two minutes....oh balls, let's see. I went to Winco today. It was sort of on my way, not really. I like Winco because they have the majority of the sale items right by the front door. That way, if I'm in a hurry, I can push 20 cans of chili, and a family pack of corn nuts right in my bag and be on my merry way....except, that never happens. I keep pushing my cart through the store like I'm looking for the sale that isn't obvious. Nearly $100 later, if I'm lucky, I am checking out and wondering how those tricky tricksters did that. Again?

OK, it is now 11:01 and I must rush off. I'll be back later. I have a shout out that needs shouting, and I'm sure other random crap to tell you.

Have a nice day!

Climbing The Wall

2011-04-25T09:53:00.000-06:00

I posted something recently on Facebook that read: "The time when you hit the wall is often the same time when you need to climb over it." I was thinking about that time of day when you get tired and sluggish and want to lay in bed and eat chips. It's usually around 2 p.m. and I've even seen an energy drink commercial in regards to that feeling. I think it's that 5 Hour Energy stuff. I've heard it tastes terrible and doesn't work.

Anyhow, I was thinking about it and part of my problem has been the lack of sunshine for any sustained amount of time. The other part is that at 34 and having prematurely grey hair, I never did recover from the time change this Spring. Spring forward? Spring forward? There is no spring in my Spring so that I can spring forward. When did I get so out of shape? When did I lose my mojo? Has 34 stolen my mojo, and if so, then will I feel near death at 44? That won't be good. That will be the exact opposite of good.

I want to be Madonna not Rosie. I want to be Posh Spice not Old Spice. I want to be Cindy Crawford not Cyndi Lauper. Well, you get the idea. I need to keep climbing the wall. I'm fairly certain my mojo, my hotness, my youth and vigor live on the other side. If you've ever seen An Officer and a Gentleman, and you remember the PT test that they all had to pass, then you know what I am picturing as I type this.

I look at my family and I think, "They deserve a hot Mama, not Throw Mama From The Train." So climb I will. I'll find my hotness. It can't have gone far.

Hope your Easter was fan-freakin-tastic. We went camping with our neighbors. It was very fun. The weather sucked, but the trailer didn't, so, Woot!

Have a nice day!

I've Been Robbed

2011-04-21T11:07:00.000-06:00

It's now 10:58 a.m. I have to leave in just a few minutes to go pick up Little Man from school. But as I was checking my blog to see if anyone had stopped by to say, "Hi" or "How are you?" or "Jules, you suck." or well, anything...I realized someone had stopped by. And that someone posted a comment. And then, AND THEEEEN, they took it back. I feel, I feel, I feel, so robbed.

See here's the thing. I'm not The Pioneer Woman. I'm not a celebrity blogger who has thousands of people who follow her and post so many comments that you have to scroll through pages and pages of them to find where you posted yours. I am small time. I'm not big time. I also like it everytime someone comments. Even if it's a criticism, at least you care enough to post it. To think that someone has gone to the trouble of posting and then deleting....well....I....don't....I.....just.....they.......argh!

Frustration, thy name is Jules. Even if it were scathing, tearing at the very core of my beliefs at least it would be there...in print....so that I could giggle and move on. Or, if it were really bad, I could call my Mama and we could discuss at length, and then we could giggle together. Hmph! HMPH!

Oh well, moving on. I guess the upshot in all of this is that you now know just how much it means to me when you care enough to leave a comment. I know the pictures of all of you. I notice and love when you give me feedback. It is the fuel that feeds this blogging soul of mine, and I'm grateful. OK, I must go. It is now 11:07 a.m.

Have a nice day!

Blase'

2011-04-19T10:46:00.000-06:00

Emphasis on blah! The day is grey, again today, and it doesn't help the grey mood that has crept up on me. Not really sure why. Normally, I'm someone who watches the rain and grey with joy in my heart and coffee in my cup, but today...not so much. My hands are cold. I tried putting on gloves, but apparently I can't type with gloved fingers. Darn. So, my finger pops freeze and I'm left to shiver and wonder about the wave of blah that has struck me.

I think partly it's due to the fact that I haven't had much self expression lately. No big belly laughs that are only and authentically mine. No time to work on the book that needs soooo much work. No drawing, or scrapbooking, or card making to wile away my time in thoughtful meditation. Just life. Heck, you saw the list, and that is barely scratching the surface. I have much to do, but none of it calls to me. Or rather, I mean to say, all the stuff I need to do isn't stuff I want to do.

My Avon sales have come to a near stand still, and I can't seem to get myself back on track, though I did hand out some brochures in some new places last week. Regardless, the world is just screaming, "BLAH". In another time and another place I would crawl in bed, fully clothed and watch mindless television until the spirit moved me, but alas, I cannot. I have a list that needs doing, and a life that needs living and a family that needs feeding. Now more than ever. Little Man has been eating like a horse, possibly a Shetland, but a horse all the same. More accurately, a monkey. He ate four bananas yesterday. I wasn't sure that was even possible. I mean, if it had just been bananas then sure, but it was Eggo Waffles, toast, chicken nuggets (of course) AND bananas. He's growing, no doubt about it, and with that comes that motherly pang of pain. The unavoidable thing.....he won't be six forever.

Oh jeez, does anyone have a tissue? Now the tears. Holy cow I'm such a sap. I don't know how these boys tolerate me. I cry at a movie and they look to check and make sure I'm crying as if I'm going to change my M.O. Certain things about me won't ever change. "People don't change", so says Dr. House. He might be right. In general, people don't. Not who they really are, what they really value, not the person that God made them to be. This brings me hope that when I'm old and even more grey, and I look into my son's eyes I'll still see the bright, joyful six year old who "can't go to school because I miss you too much Mama".

OK, again with the tears. Thank goodness I didn't put on makeup today. It would be a wreck. Not sure where I was going with this post, just sharing my blah. I know, I know, you don't have to thank me. :)

Have a nice day!

Do I Make It Look Easy?

2011-04-18T10:19:00.000-06:00

Have you ever looked at someone doing something hard and thought, "Wow, they make that look so easy." I'll give you an example. My friend Lu can cook. She can make things that I'm convinced are pulled right out of thin air. She can make things short notice. She makes things for large crowds that are warm and tasty, and she makes it look easy. Thanks to her knowledge and tendency to keep a level head I'm getting better at it too. She lets me feel just as organized as she is. She praises me when I remember the ranch dressing that she might have forgotten to pack in her trailer for camping...so my confidence in my own organization and culinary talents is elevated. It doesn't mean it is easy. Not for her. Not for me.

Here is another example: house keeping. It ain't easy. There is no magic shroud to lay over the house and make things clean and beautiful. It is simply good, old-fashioned elbow grease and work. I've had people say to me, "Oh Jules, your house is always so clean. How do you do it?" How do I do it? The same way most people do it, that can't afford a maid...I scrub. I scrub until no lotion in the world will soften my skin. I scrub until I sweat, and smell horrible....but the house smells good. Do I make it look easy? Sure. I imagine I do. But people are only getting an outsider's perspective. They don't have to live with me while I'm screaming about toys not picked up, or dishes not rinsed off. They don't have to miss half of their TV program because they can't hear the show over the sound of the vacuum. They only get to see it when it's done...or at the very least, presentable.

It's not their children that get neglected while I'm wiping down walls and sucking up dog hair in my vacuum. Truth be told, we do what we are good at. If you look at my life and think I make it look easy, I'm simply doing what comes naturally to me. It's not easy. It's work. Every purchase, every bill, every time we take on a new endeavor or task, we work at it. The Tire Guy and I work at it....every day. Don't ever think we want to be the Jones'....don't try and keep up with us. That's just silly. Keep up with yourselves. That's what we do, and it's work. And, odds are, there is something that your doing that would make me rub my temples in frustration and bewilderment and think, "Damn, they make that look sooo easy."

This just in: I actually posted a picture. From my camera. Like I used to alllll the time. Maybe I'm more tech savvy than I thought. I didn't post it here. It was a picture of a stove we are trying to sell. Not something that would make sense in this blog, but now that I'm on the camera wagon....I'll be staying. Pictures to come...I promise.

And in other news: It's raining today. Just one day after we washed our new truck. It's like we made it rain. Thank you God for reminding me who drives this car. I know, I know, it's not the one that washed it.

Have a nice day!

The List

2011-04-14T15:15:00.000-06:00

I need to vacuum. My OCD deems it necessary.
I need to get off the computer and go shut off the television in the other room that keeps replaying the same crap over and over and over, and OMG....
I need to do homework with Little Man so that he gets smarter and smarter and doesn't spend his days breathing through his mouth in a jail cell. Yes, I'm stereotyping...so sue me.
I need to work on my book again. It has sat, for at least a few days now. Bad writer, bad, bad.
I need to make sure that Little Man has school clothes that are clean and pressed for tomorrow. Private School and school uniforms....ugh! What were we thinking? Don't answer that.
I need to clean the gunk off the kitchen counter before some monster jumps out of my body and starts screaming at me in French. I'm not sure why she's French...it just sounded good.
I need to clean out my email inbox. I love you people, but could you please screen your crap a little better. No offense.
I need to get everything organized so that I can go to a "New Owner" dinner. We are new owners. Did I mention that? It's a truck. It's a Toyota. Really wish I would have thought to do the jump up and down Toyota commercial move, and have The Tire Guy take my picture that way. Would be perfect on Facebook, and Twitter.
I need to do some paperwork that is plaguing me.
I need to quit stressing about all the things I'm not, and not going to be....like Little Man's soccer coach. I hate guilt. Ugh, again.
I need to pick up the stinky landmines left in the backyard by my dogs. There is a job I really look forward to. See: Sarcasm
I need to charge my phone. Some cute little bug has been playing the new Angry Birds Rio on it. Who can blame him?
I need to stop putting lawn debris in my recycling bin. Apparently they won't dump it, if they catch you. Damn!
I need to go....much to do, and I can feel the monster drinking a Red Bull or maybe it was just that Pepsi Max I had earlier.

Have a nice day!

Something's Wonky

2011-04-11T10:00:00.000-06:00

We went to Oregon. We visited. We didn't tell a lot of people. We didn't give much notice. It was on purpose. We sort of thought that we would let people go about their lives, do their thing and we would catch parts of it, and parts of it we would miss...on purpose. For the most part, that's how it went. One thing is for certain...I came back and realized I was missing some things. I left a few things behind that I really wish I would have brought back to Utah with me.

Nanny's dog, Teddy. I wish I would have packed that cute little ball of fluff in my suitcase. Nanny wouldn't have it though. Apparently, she likes him.

My nieces, both of them. I wanted to see if they would fit in my suitcase too, but their mom probably wasn't going to let that happen. Ugh! I'm definitely missing them. I want to smell their hair, and let them try out my white eyeliner, and laugh with them about everything. You girls are amazing and beautiful and sweet and funny and charming and don't let anybody ever tell you any different. If they do tell you something different it's because they are jealous of your awesomeness.

The Tire Guy and I kept laughing about a commercial that none of them had seen, so I'm going to attempt to post it, so you can share in the funny with us.

Love, love, love to our family and friends in Oregon...all of you. The ones we got to visit with and the ones we didn't.

OK, so the commercial posted just fine. Enjoy! Mountain top!

Have a nice day!

Zoosk Banned Dart Commercial

2011-04-11T09:57:00.000-06:00

Do You Believe In Magic?

2011-03-29T10:28:00.000-06:00

I know how to do a trick. A fairly simple trick. I learned it from Bill Nye the Science Guy when I was a kid. Some things stay with you, and this trick did. It's performed at restaurants, places like Applebee's, Denny's, IHOP. Never a fancy restaurant because well, my Mama raised me with manners. You take two forks and shove them together by the tines. Then you shove a toothpick in between the mashed up tines. Like a handle. Then you place another toothpick in a salt shaker, or pepper...depending on your preference. Then at the very tip of each of the toothpicks, you balance them, making an L shape. It's a pivot point. The balance is the part that seems magical. People are always fascinated when I perform this little bit of magic. I'm happy to show you....just take me out to lunch sometime.

Balancing forks over a salt shaker is easy in comparison to many things in this world. Like relationships. Finding a balance in a relationship can be difficult. It's one of the many reasons that marriage is and should be a commitment. It takes many years and many different kinds of struggle to figure out what works. If The Tire Guy and I had thrown in the towel years ago, we wouldn't be nearly so good at being married as we are now. It was the topic of discussion recently and I said, "I like being married. I'm good at it." I couldn't think of anything else to say on the subject. It is what it is. I am good at it. I wasn't always, but practice makes perfect. (We aren't even close to perfect. Don't get the wrong idea.)

Here's the thing: time, growing up, gaining wisdom, kindness, faith. These things make for better relationships. I was listening to TTG talk about me and my tendency to get lost. He said, "I don't leave Jules alone in the mountains, ever." To many people that might indicate a lack of confidence in me. To me, it screamed, "I love you and I won't ever let you get lost." It screamed it in bright pink neon. I could've cried. The good kind of cry. It's like that joke that circulated around the Internet for awhile about the husband that complained to his doctor that his beloved wife never wanted to have sex with him anymore. The doctor suggested he try foreplay. The guy says, "No, I've tried that, she's just NOT into it." The Doc says, "No, not guy foreplay, girl foreplay. Go home and clean the kitchen."

Love is expressed in different ways, and what works for some doesn't work for others, but I certainly think it's worth putting forth the effort. I'm always astounded at how easily some people give up. The going gets tough and the tough want a divorce. Nah! The tough get going. You have a fight, you deal with it, and you move on. You don't bring up every mistake your spouse has ever made in their life, and you expect the same in return. It's work. It's work so that we can be grateful for it, instead of taking it for granted.

Alright, so I hadn't intended on a soliloquy about marriage, but apparently the soap box was calling again. Anyhow, I'm available most days for lunch if you want to see my trick.

Have a nice day!!

I'm Not A Bitch, I Just Play One On TV

2011-03-28T12:56:00.000-06:00

It has come to my attention, (thank you, and you know who you are) that I may have said something that someone took personally. I'm sorry, though this is not the first time, nor will it be the last time this has happened. But I think it's important to set the record straight. I never set out to hurt anyone's feelings. Sometimes it happens but it's unintentional.

This is a blog about me. My thoughts. My randomness. My looks. My style. My soap box. MEEEEEE! Selfish aren't I? Yes, when it comes to this blog, I am. It's not a blog dedicated to someone else. It's a blog about ME.

So if you've ever sat at home and read my blog and thought, "That bitch is talking about me. Judging me. Evaluating me." Think again. I have no room to judge...and I don't care to do so, unless I'm ever given the opportunity in a court of law; and that is a completely different scenario. Instead, I hope you'll think, "That bitch is talking about herself again. Judging herself. Evaluating herself." Then, and only then would you be accurate.

I'm hard on myself. On purpose. You, well, you I like just the way you are.

And in other news: The Tire Guy and I have figured out why reality TV is here to stay....some of it that is. It's relatable. We were watching Sons of Guns and thinking..."I know people like that". "I am someone like that." I can honestly say that I would love to shoot a Ma Deuce from the back of moving vehicle at a random target in a big field. I want to see what it's like to shoot an internally suppressed AK47. That isn't that strange to me. What is strange, and what I don't think will stand the test of time, are shows like The Real Housewives. (Any city).

Here's why: Even though I like watching those shows, they frustrate me more than anything. I watch them and I want to jump through the television and give those fake women a good ass kicking. Not one of them is nice to each other. They aren't just selfish in the way that I'm selfish, they are truly selfish. They think the world, and all the men in it owe them something for all the effort they put forth to exercise, plastic surgery, and bitchiness.

They won't last....in the sense that even though they are like watching a train wreck, after awhile you want to see hard working people doing what they love, making a living the only way they know how. That, I can relate to. Even Swamp People....I've never been down South. I've never seen a bayou. I can't understand 80% of what many of them say, and yet, I understand the struggle. The hard work. Real, honest, hard work, where they come home dirty and tired, and are happy to be eating a hot meal placed before them.

You would never catch anyone from Swamp People being a diva. You would never see Sig Hanson from Deadliest Catch slacking off, and whining about needing a Spa Day.

Speaking of Deadliest Catch...new season coming soon. Who else is beside themselves with joy? Raise your hands. Yep, me too. I heard a horrible rumor that this could be the last season. I hope it's not true. It's bad enough that I'm overcome with sadness when I think about the loss of Captain Phil, I can't bear the thought of no more Deadliest Catch. The Cornelia Marie will go on, and so will I....but it will suck.

Have a nice day!

In My Head

2011-03-25T10:24:00.001-06:00

You ever hear that song Zombie, by The Cranberries? "In your head, in your heaaaad. Zombie, Zombie, Zombie." That's me. Well, sort of that's me. I'm not hideous and I don't smell like a corpse. Whew! But I do have a hard time making decisions. It is my biggest pet peeve about myself and I'm pretty sure it's The Tire Guys biggest pet peeve about me.

It's snowing today. It was raining yesterday morning. The rain. Cool, cathartic, clean (usually). The snow, well the snow that is falling right now reminds me of what I feel like in my head when a big decision is weighing heavily on my mind. A snowstorm of thoughts falling and blowing around and some landing, but many just seem to hang in the air like mosquitoes about to sting. Wow, talk about mixed metaphors. They should put that on my tombstone if I were to have a tombstone...."Jules, she was a mixed metaphor in the novel of life." Hee hee. I kind of like that. Now how to use that even though I'm leaning more towards cremation. The ground is full, if not over full with bodies aplenty. Remains....that are encased in coffins. Ewww! I'd rather be ash scattered around. It won't really be me anyhow. It will just be the leftovers.

For whatever reason, I kind of like to think of myself as leftovers. That probably shouldn't bring a smile to my face, but it does. What can I say? I don't make sense.

So back to my point. I hate big decisions. I wish I was friends with Donald Trump. I'd call him up and say, "Hey Donny, what do you think we should do?" And he would tell me...or he would at least give me some real insight as to the best path. Oh, who am I kidding. I just want someone to tell me what to do so that if it turns out horribly it can be someone else that I blame for the mess. That would be nice. I want the Donald as my scapegoat. For that hair alone he at least deserves to be a scapegoat. It would be his punishment for the crazy that is the Donald's hair.

There is very little to eat in this house. The cupboards aren't bare but they aren't pretty. So, I'm off to the grocery store.

Have a nice day!

You Ever Have....

2011-03-23T14:33:00.001-06:00

That itch on your foot inside your shoe but you're too lazy to take off your shoe and scratch the itch properly so you try and distract yourself with anything? The anything isn't working so you stomp your foot on the ground thinking that might help, and it doesn't? No? Yeah, me either. I was just curious.

That friend that you adore but has an annoying tendency to call in the middle of your favorite show, so you pretend your phone died, or you make up a horrible excuse about being outside when you finally call her back? No? Yeah, me either. I just wondered.

That secret obsession with something that you're just sure your beloved will tease you about so you keep it to yourself only to find out years later that they already knew about it, and you end up getting mad at them for not telling you sooner so that you could do that thing out in the open? No? Yeah, me either. I just heard about someone like that.

A weird habit that you try and stop but you really can't and you realize that it gets worse when you're bored or nervous....something maybe like picking at your cuticles? And then you realize that you've been doing so long that the habit has been passed down to your kid and you think, I'm the worst parent in the world? No? Yeah, me either. Wouldn't that suck?

That deep desire to lose weight and as you're thinking hard about how you are going to be more healthy, you're eating chips, and possibly pizza rolls and you put off doing crunches on the floor on the excuse that you need to vacuum first because you have two dogs? Or maybe only one? No? Me either. Some people have no motivation.

That fantasy where you're an ass kicking female assassin with lethal knowledge of most weapons and the agility of a gymnast, all while you're cooking dinner for your real life family? No? Yeah, me either. Crazy people abound.

A day where you hear about the passing of Elizabeth Taylor and you're saddened by the news, and you think how much National Velvet influenced your love of horses. Yeah? Me too.

Have a nice day!

"I Know Your Plight"

2011-03-22T09:58:00.000-06:00

I watched Cold Mountain the other night with The Tire Guy. I love the movie. I do. It's sweeping, it has sad music. It has Jude Law. It has the best lines ever spoken by Renee Zellweger. (She plays a girl named Ruby) One of the things that she says to Ava (played beautifully by Nicole Kidman) is "I know your plight." Here's mine.

I don't like receipts. I find them annoying. They always represent a charge on my debit card that I have to write down. Ugh! I would love to be like Richard Hatch and not worry about receipts, taxes, money....but then I hear he's going to jail so um, no, he is not to be idolized. I just hate when everywhere I go I have to account for my spending. I have to. I'm a responsible person. I spend. I write it down. I wish my Dad would win the lottery. That is simply how it works.

It's the mountains of pain-in-the-ass papers that drive me to the brink of insanity. Walmart is especially bad because I go there more than is necessary, and their receipts are long. They always add that crap at the bottom in regards to a survey they want you to take by giving us false hope about a $5000 prize. I don't think it actually exists. Have you heard of anyone who has actually won something from Walmart? Nope! Me either. They lie. They lie like the dogs they are. They need to quit with the "Take our shopping survey" stuff. It isn't real, and it's taking up extra space on a receipt that is already QUITE long enough due to my purchases.

Sometimes when I'm not quite ready to face them, I stuff them into my purse and pretend they don't exist for awhile. Just long enough to take a deep breath, drink a Diet Pepsi and steel myself for what is to come. What is to come, you ask? The reconciliation. Another word that kind of blows. You would think it would be a good word and if you are reconciling with your spouse then I guess it is, if you are reconciling about money....it blows. Let's do some simple math shall we. Since simple math is all I can do. :)

You go to the store with a number in your head about how much you think is in your checking account. Let's say, $80.00. You need certain things on this trip regardless of that number so you think, I'm not going to double check that number. NOOO! I'm pretty sure I'm right. So you shop. You shop, always assuming things don't really add up as quickly as they do, but you always forget about tax. Argh!! As the non-English speaking checker is coming closer to your total you start to hyperventilate (on the inside, usually). She is getting far to close to that number that you didn't check on. $89.73 BINGO. You have just overspent. You look at the few measly bags in your cart and you think, "How the hell did this happen to me? When did everything from groceries to fuel, to hot tubs get soooo daaaamn expensive?" You want to cry but not in front of this checker who doesn't know you and who has problems of her own. So you go to your truck, or car, or you walk because as I mentioned, fuel is very expensive, and you sit in your truck and you finally will yourself to look at the number from your checking account. $68.00 You stuff the receipt (the devil) in your purse, crank up the stereo on your truck and drive your very stressed out self home. Overdrawn is not a pretty word. Thankfully you have "protection" and you know that you need only to transfer some money over to get you to payday but still. Still. Really? Cereal? This is the plight of middle income America. Or maybe it's just me.

OK, I've vented. Is it just me or are we about due for a new President? Maybe that will help. Something has to.

Have a nice day!

Bloody Hell

2011-03-21T13:09:00.001-06:00

I love watching reruns of Buffy The Vampire Slayer. I might have mentioned. It occurred to me last week while watching a particularly witty episode, that the best parts all take place when Spike is in the room. If you have never watched the show, this won't make sense. He had that "Big Bad" thing about him, but he also was the comic relief. When things went from going his way to not so much, he would say, (in the coolest accent ever) "Bloody Hell". For whatever reason, I find that hilarious. It was so well acted. I think it must be seen to appreciate.

Speaking of seeing TV and movies about vampires; I have heard that some people just aren't into the whole culture like some of us. Whaaaa?? How can that be? Though, there is a limit to my fascination. IE: There are Twilight role playing websites. Um, gag! That just creeps me out, but then I've always had a pretty interesting real life, so role playing is just....hee hee hee. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to let that ridiculous giggle slip out. What I meant was, BWHAHAHAHA. CREEPY. Just like everything else I post though, it's merely my opinion. I also think the Star Wars conventions are weird. To each his own.

Back to the point, there are people out there, I might be very closely related to one, that don't like vampires. To me it just seems unfathomable ( I like that word). Didn't they ever watch in wonder and admiration, The Lost Boys? I know that is where my love of the bloodsuckers began. I'm a product of the 80's. That can't be helped. When Cory Haim died I checked several websites to make sure it wasn't a horrible Internet rumor. When I realized it wasn't, I cried. Hello? License To Drive changed my life. Not really, but I did love it. How could you not? I also might have had a Corey Haim poster on my wall when I was a teenager. I might have. I can't remember. Don't judge me.

Back to my vampiric addiction...it isn't like the 13 year old Twilighters. I loooved the Twilight saga but mostly due to the books. The books truly are the bomb diggety. The movies are a really great excuse for a girl's night out. The books are always better. Historically this is true. I think. I'm happy to be proven wrong, but it better be good. Speaking of awesome books about vampires. The House of Night series is AWESOME. It's written by the Cast mother/daughter duo. The fact that a mother and daughter are writing books together makes me happy. The fact that the books rock also makes me happy.

I guess if I could say something beautiful and poetic to the person or persons that don't have a love for all things vampire, I would say:

It's like vegetables. How do you know you don't like them until you've tried them?

Bloody hell, I have to go. My very own book awaits. And no, it's not about vampires. That would be like me trying to rewrite Homer's Odyssey. Some things just can't be improved upon.

Have a nice day!

Not Up For Anything

2011-03-17T09:57:00.000-06:00

I really don't like the saying, "I'm up for anything." I catch myself say it, and I'm immediately overcome with a mild case of anxiety. I'm not UP for anything. Not ever. Anything? Anything is ANYTHING. That scares the holy living you-know-what outta me. Bungee jumping? OK, as long as I haven't just eaten breakfast or something. Sky diving...um, no...well, maybe. Again with the eating thing. Bull riding? HELL TO THE NO. You couldn't pay me to get my terrified ass on top of a very large, very strong, and very angry beast and see if I won't die. Um, nope.

Snake wrangling? Have you not been paying attention. Snakes are the thing of nightmares. Literally. I had a nightmare the other night that someone threw a dead one at me while I was sitting on my childhood bed. There are certain moments in life that you need your mother. That is one of them.

So let's see, I won't bull ride. I won't wrangle reptiles. Ewwww! How about spelunking? No, no and no. One, there are creepy things that live in caves. I've watched Man vs. Wild. I know. Two, people get stuck in caves and don't come out. Three, what is the ever loving point of trying to see how close of quarters you can squeeze your ass into. If I want to feel claustrophobia, I'll put on some jeans from when I was in High School. That should do it.

There is also a darker side to this post. I'm thinking of all the horrible things that can and sadly do happen to people (sometimes). People aren't UP for anything. That's just wrong. Now, granted, I'm taking the phrase literally, but still it gets to me when I let it fall out of my mouth. Bad Jules, bad!! I also know some people who are UP for a whole lot more than I would ever even consider. Like that dumb ass Grizzly Man that got himself killed by an um? What was it again? Oh yeah, a GRIZZLY BEAR. They had to put his remains in several large black trash bags. I sure hope they were Hefty. No, I'm not up for getting less than 5 feet away from a wild animal that thinks I'd be great for dinner. I'm not UP for being dinner.

I'm sure I have made my point....graphically. Sorry. I have a tendency toward the dramatic. What can I say?

Have a nice day!

Wowza, Really?

2011-03-15T10:42:00.000-06:00

There are rules that go along with this award:

1.Thank and link back to the person who awarded you this award

2. Share 7 things about yourself

3.Award 15 recently discovered great bloggers

4.Contact these bloggers and tell them about the award

Here are 7 things about myself:

1. It's much harder to think of seven things when I'm forced to, but randomly throughout the day....I think of so many things about myself. Aha! Number one: I'm completely random.

2. I could very likely screw this up and if so, my apologies to Sweet Pea. sweetpeaheaven.blogspot.com I kind of suck at the whole copy, paste, link techie thing. It's not my fault. I ate buttery, vanilla cake slices for breakfast that came from Walmart's bakery clearance section.

3. I can't seem to find the perfect size or style of purse. The big ones that are cool and slouchy don't organize my shiii---ite very well, and the small organizing ones are too small, and rarely come in cool designs. Is there a perfect purse out there for me? I think not. This ones too heavy. That one has no structure. This one is too small. That one is too plain. This one has a gorgeous flower applique on it, but it only comes in baby shit yellow. (Thanks Mama for always making think of that with a very specific shade of yellow.)

4. I don't think of myself as stylish. Case in point: This morning I was super excited to try out my new Glimmersticks eyeliner from Avon, but I was in a hurry. As I was driving Little Man to school I realized, I'd only finished one third of the job. I sort of forgot my upper eyelid. Right eye. Thank goodness I only had one stop to make. Walmart. No one there seems to notice these things. Check the website, you'll see why. peopleofwalmart.com

5. I once heard that in order to stay slender you should never think too hard about really heavy people. You should only focus your thoughts on the skinny, beautiful people. I think it was buried somewhere in that book The Secret....which I didn't read. True or not, every day, I think about having a body like Elle Macpherson. I figure, aim high. She's not got the nickname, The Body for nothing.

6. I have new slippers. My parents got me slippers for Christmas. (Thank you, love you.) They didn't fit. So I wanted to exchange. The slippers were in short supply. Apparently, just like Chocolate Mint Truffle creamer, certain things can only be found prior to Christmas. After that, you're screwed. Hmmph! Anyhow, I have new slippers. They make my feet happy. I feel very, very, very, slippery.

7. I'm grateful to my friends and family. I have awesomeness oozing from both categories. How did I get so lucky? I'm married to a great man who loves me just as I am. Whew! I have a wonderful son who teaches me so much. I'm a better person because I get to be his Mama. I'm reminded every day why adoption is a good thing. I have a roof over my head and food on the table. Blessed...truly. To my friends, especially the ones who read my blog and laugh with me, or at me, either one....I dig you people. Sharing a laugh with you is one of the best things about being me. OK, number seven got a little long winded.

Here are the people that I'm sending this award to:
jcbettineski.blogspot.com
amyssister67.blogspot.com
sugarloafcottage.blogspot.com
wandering-the-dream-space.blogspot.com
catalogliving.net
dvmswife.blogspot.com
sleeptalkinman.blogspot.com
I know that wasn't 15, but I am not sure if I even know that many people. If I've forgotten someone, I'll be adding to it, but for now, thank you to Sweet Pea for my award. I'm honored...truly.

Have a nice day!

Picture This

2011-03-14T10:12:00.001-06:00

My blog was acting wonky. I just tried to post my um, "art" and it made my words align center instead of aligning left. Not that it matters. Blah, blah, blah. I posted this picture because for whatever reason, it turned out kinda cool for someone who isn't an artist. I'm quite sure I possess the soul of an artist, but not the talent. Also, we, and by we, I mean The Tire Guy downloaded or uploaded (can't ever keep those straight) the program that came with my camera so that I can post pictures. I can't get it to work right. "It's broken, mine's broken."

So, I found this picture that I cyber painted and posted it. There are some things that I find really funny about this painting. The first is that it's not real paint, but the paint program on this new computer is like 1000 times better than the old one so it actually kind of looks like paint. The second is that I am not a fan of boats and yet if someone (an art teacher, a psychologist, a friend, or Little Man) were to ask me to paint a picture, I always paint boats, on the water. Whyyyyyy, you ask? Because boats have shapes that I can picture in my head and reproduce. Triangles. Check. Half circles. Check. A straightish line. Check. The sunshine. Easy peasy. I've been making the same sunshine since I was in grade school. No joke. Ask my parents, they'll attest. I bet my Mama could even produce evidence to support this fact. The water. Well the water is the fun part. Wavy lines of different colors. Fun!! So, this is my amateur work of "art". LOL

I'm having Crunch 'N Munch for breakfast. Not exactly the breakfast of champions but I ate all the Cheerios. It occurred to me that the box of Cheerios was big and I am the only on that ate them. Some types of cereal I know will go fast because TTG likes it or Little Man does too, but Cheerios, I am quite certain I'm the only one that ate that box. All byyyy myyyyseeeellllfff. There is a reason that the size 6 shorts that I bought from Cabela's are a bit snug.

Dear Exercise and Eating Right,

I don't like you. I never have; but it used to be easier to tolerate you when I wasn't wearing tight jeans by accident. I used to wear tight jeans but it was on purpose. Now, well, not so much. I'm not a fan of you. You make me feel like I'm never doing you enough. It could be because I'm a frigid bitch, but it's not true. I'm warm, friendly and I still don't like you. You wear me out. You make me dream of laying on my bed watching reruns of Grey's Anatomy and eating chips. You are the reason that I feel mounds of guilt when I sit, and couch, and fondle the remote control. You watch me, like a fly on the wall. I can feel your eyes watching me. You don't tempt me. That's the problem. If you could be fun like couching and eating chocolate, then I'd be tempted. You aren't fun. There is nothing fun about crunches, unless they come in chip form. There is nothing fun about salads without dressing and undipped carrots. Ahhhh! Thank you for letting me vent. I'll be doing you soon. No really, I mean it this time.

Sincerely,

Mybutt Hasgrown

Speaking of not eating properly. A big, awesome, shout out of thank you to my awesome friends and neighbors. Beer margaritas and garlic burgers. Truly, I could die happy. And here I didn't think I liked beer. Guess it just depends on how you serve it.

Love to my peeps.

Have a nice day!

Thank You

2011-03-08T16:46:00.002-07:00

I have a friend. I know, shocking. We'll call her Gus Gus. Why? Because I like that name. It makes me think of Cinderella. Now I've just compared my friend to a fat, cartoon mouse. Great. There is a reason I don't have lots and lots of friends. Let's just say it's because I like it that way. Fewer birthday presents to shop for. Anyhow, my friend and I agree it is vitally important to say Thank You. Not thanks, but thank you. You know, go that extra step and say, Thank You. It sounds nicer. I figure if your are going to be grateful, then show it, by saying thank you. Thanks is sort of half-assed, and well, we all know I hate half- assed. Hang on, I just got a visual of half-assed. It wasn't half bad.

I got my hair cut today. I also agreed to get it colored. What in the helicopter (stole that from Ruby) was I thinking? It's OK. It's not over the top, love getting my hair cut and colored, fan freakin tastic, it's just OK. It was getting sooooo looooong. Like I should have worn a hand made flower wreath around my head and dresses in only maxi dresses loooong. It needed cut, but I also let them layer it, and then...and then....ugh...I'm not sure I can tell you this next part. I let them bump my bangs. Really? Really? Did someone slip me a roofy this morning? Was I abducted by aliens? After they did that, I couldn't get them to go down. So here I sit, with big, curled under bangs. Hello Jules? 1984 is calling and they would like their hairstyle back. And, as if that wasn't bad enough...I've been scarred. Whaaa? Well, I look like it. The hair color they used went all over my forehead and around my ears. I look like I've got purple/brown birthmarks all along my hairline. Shoot me now.

My only solace is that it was temporary color that I pray will fade fairly quickly. Hang on second. I need to have a good cry. See the thing is that I usually can rock a haircut pretty well. I have one of those faces that can wear most shapes. The shape, aside from the bangs is eh...so so...but the bruising color on my forehead...makes me want to scream at the otherwise lovely Asian woman that did my hair. They even suggested that I learn how to do the Snooky bump. WAAAAAAAAAA!!!

Note to self. Cut bangs yourself. Let the rest grow until you just can't take it anymore. Never let anyone else color your hair ever again. Don't ever smile like you dig it, unless you really dig it.

I know better. I really do. Tomorrow, I'll be scrubbing about three layers of skin off my forehead and styling the hair with flat, modern bangs. It's like I'm the only one in the world that watches America's Next Top Model. I mean, COME ON!

Enough about my hair disaster. I decided to do a little promotion of my own, so here's the deal:

The next person to place an order from my website will receive a special gift from me. Can't wait to see who it is.

Have a nice day!
youravon.com/juliegreenfield

The Notebook

2011-03-07T10:50:00.002-07:00

Not the movie, though it is one of my most favorite movies ever, even though I cry like a baby at the end. The notebook I'm referring to is the one I just bought this morning. I need more paper to write my book. Heee Heee Heee. Progress. I love the smell of progress. How long is the book? I don't know. Is it nearly finished? I haven't the slightest idea. Are you happy with what you've written so far? A resounding YES.

I'm mostly happy that I'm writing instead of procrastinating. If you have been paying attention at all, then you know I have a tendency to do that. I'm still blaming my Dad. Sorry Dad, but someone must be at fault for this, and as we've discussed many times, you have rhino hide. I love you and your rhino hide though. Does that help?

Anyhow, I am pleased to announce that I'm about two more hand written pages away from starting a new notebook. Yeah!! This will be number three. It makes me happy to be moving along. Though in the last few weeks I'm not moving at the same pace I once was. I wish I had an excuse. I am pretty sure I can't blame my Dad for this one. Life, I'm blaming life getting in the way.

Life doesn't allow for hours on end on the recliner with a notebook, pen, and a cup of coffee. Life wants you to get your booty up and have the harried look of a Mama with things to do....ALL THE TIME. Life wants you to get crows feet and a stomach ache from the stress of dealing with it daily. Life isn't bad, it's just busy, and it wants you to be busy too. Life wants you to be so busy that when you sit down, you can't help but fall asleep instead of watching the whole movie with your family. It wants you to stay busy enough that you remember at 6 p.m that you have no idea what you're cooking for dinner. Did that make sense? Oye. Life.

Back to the good news, Avon is coming along nicely. Thanks to my Mom for throwing me a bone. You kinda rock. Also for anyone else who may read my blog and order from me...a great big thank you. The Tire Guy wanted to know if we were independently wealthy yet? Hahahahahaha! Sorry to burst your bubble babe, but um, not yet. I'm working on it though. In the immortal words of Kanye, "watchem, he's gonna get outta that Datsun."
That's all for now.

Have a nice day!
youravon.com/juliegreenfield

Country Strong

2011-03-02T14:26:00.003-07:00

I've heard that the movie isn't great, but I feel the song all the way to my toes. So for now, this is my theme song because I'm COUNTRY STRONG!

Have a nice day!

Tweet Tweet, Tweetle E Dee

2011-03-01T10:15:00.000-07:00

Slowly, but surely, I'm becoming more savvy at promoting myself with this Avon thang I'm doing. I was reading some Avon literature. Yes, there is literature, and it recommended that I create a Twitter account. So I did. I called it JulesAtAvon, in case anyone wants to follow me. So far, I've uttered one Tweet. I will admit, that I like to say tweet. I like to see how many times I can say it, and how many different ways. Tweet!

After I post this, I fully intend to get to Tweetin'. I signed up on Sunday, prior to the Oscars, and being such a newbie, I didn't start following James Franco. I should have. His Tweets would be right up my ally. Especially since I forced the poor Tire Guy to watch them with me. He didn't enjoy them at all....and I....I took the road less traveled by. I haven't even seen most of the movies that were nominated, and yet I still love the Oscars, um excuse me, The Academy Awards....duh, duh, duh, duh! *That would be the dramatic music playing during the oh hell, the Oscars.

When I was a kid, I practiced my acceptance speech many times in front of the mirror....for the day when I would receive an Academy Award. Yes, silly I know, but what could I do? I had dreams that were bigger than my small town life could hold. Am I an actress? Noooo, well, actually, it depends on who you ask. :) These days I'm a Mama, a Wife, a writer, an Avon representative, and a friend (I hope). My Oscar dreams eventually morphed into a fascination with modeling. I was just sure that would be my path. With these Bert (of Bert and Ernie fame) eyebrows, um I mean, Brooke Shields eyebrows, how could I go wrong. Modeling was in my blood. You put a camera on me, and suddenly I came alive. I was doing fierce before these girls from America's Next Top Model could even spell fierce...that is if they can. Hmm? Burn.

However that dream sort of fizzled but only because I was just sure I had plenty of time to have it all. I was going to be the next mogul....like Cindy Crawford. Life happened, and it never seems to happen the way we think it will. Weird, huh? Oh well, these are not regrets, these are the twists and turns of life that make me who I am, and I'm glad for it. I never look back and regret, I look back and smile. I wouldn't be writing the book that I'm writing if my life hadn't happened this way. I wouldn't have the family that I have...and well, that just wouldn't do. So, I blog, and I write, and I love the way that I love, and it is what it is. I'm OK with that.

Soon to be tweeting.

Have a nice day!

Put Yo Hood Up

2011-02-25T17:25:00.001-07:00

I've been watching Hulu, but when I sit at the computer desk I get crazy cold. My feet. Brrr My hands. Brrr So, I put on a hoodie, and I put my hood up. If you never listen to much rap music, then you won't understand the reference. It doesn't really matter, I am "literally" putting my hood up. Because I'm cold. Hmmph!!

Every time I turn my head, or move to quickly, the sound of my zipper pull clanging against my zipper reverberates inside my hood. Also, to add insult to injury, my bangs are really long, and so they're getting pushed into my eyes. Here is the reason I haven't cut them: I can't decide if I want to cut the bangs or grow them out. You would think it would be fairly simple to decide. Do I or do I NOT like how I look with bangs.

The answer: sometimes I love how the look. I feel very dark, mysterious....sexy. Sometimes I feel like a young girl with bad 1980's blunt cut bangs. The jury is still out. To bang or not to bang...that is the question. One thing that is not in question....the color. I need some. Well, I have some, but it just isn't pretty. Sprouts of grey around my part makes me feel very unsexy. No woman wants to feel unsexy. We may not be in the mood for uber sexy all the time but unsexy is never good. It feeds our massive insecurity created by our competition with other women. Aha! You thought I would blame men. I don't blame men. Heterosexual men seem to like women...period. They may claim to be picky, but the real reason that we put on makeup is because heaven forbid our best friend, our neighbor or the girl in the passing car look better than we think we look. Make sense? No, not to me either, but it is what it is.

Again, my ticket to hell could very well be paid by my vanity. You wouldn't know it to look at me today. Plain white T, hair pulled back in a messy librarian's bun, a pair of hand me down jeans from The Tire Guy because they're comfortable and a, um, well, see, a dirty hoodie. Nope, it's not even clean. You would think with OCD that I would have on clean clothes but the OCD monster is fed by housework and organizing, not my clothing.

If I could show you a picture of the moment I would tell you about a time I was drinking a tee too many martoonies....actually it was wine. I know, shocking. Someone, it might have been TTG noticed I had a lot of dirt on my shirt. I looked down and sort of smacked my lips and rubbed my hand over my chest as if to say, "Whaaaa? Dirrrrt?" Sometimes, as I've mentioned, I just don't get put together all that well. That is why when I do...you know?....really try......people seem to notice.
A good friend and I were just discussing that very thing. If you are a woman who puts all the makeup on, has the hair done, and the nails, and the perfect outfit every day....when there is a special occasion, no one notices. Not really. But if, like me, you spend 90% of your time in jeans, t-shirts, scrubbed face, and pony tails...well, when you put on the ritz, so to speak, hah, people notice. That's our hypothesis at least. I could be wrong. I just figure it's like the neighbor that never mows his lawn.....when he finally does.....people notice, and are very appreciative. Nobody thanks me when I'm sweating my ass off once a week keeping my lawn mowed. You get the picture.

OK, I officially have ice for fingers. It's time to get off this computer and do some physical work. The OCD monster is hungry again.

Have a nice day!

I Can't Make Sense Of It

2011-02-23T10:03:00.000-07:00

Some things just don't make sense. Like how I can be perfectly warm in the house but have one freezing cold right hand while on the computer. Is it really that different in temperature? Is my hand elevated that high? Is my blood flow really so poor because my right hand is resting on the mouse?

Or how is it that I can go to bed freezing and then only a few hours later I can't even cuddle with The Tire Guy because I'm sweating like I've been working out with Jillian Michaels all day? It's very irritating to not find that happy medium. I'm rarely just "warm". I'm either freezing or boiling. Feast or famine....with everything. Not just my body temperature.

A lot of this depends on perspective, but here is another example: I always either feel broke or flush. More often broke than flush, but there seems to be no middle ground. Really! No middle ground. The area of our finances where we say, "Yeah! We can pay our bills, buy groceries, go to a movie and still put money in savings....but we aren't going to buy something big, expensive, and foolish." OK, maybe that is a bad example, because rarely do I really feel flush. How about you? The middle ground I'm so desperate for is probably more aptly called, "Well To Do." At least by my standards.

How about this one? Kids...they are either going 100 miles an hour on full tilt, or their asleep. The other option to that is sick, but sick kids are not fun kids. There is no middle ground for their energy level. It's go, go, go until they drop, or until Mama says, "Go to sleep, please, for the love of God. Go to sleep because Mama is exhausted." And then they giggle. Oye! I once had a horse very much like a child. That horse, when he started to run....well, he didn't seem to ever want to stop. He was Arabian. And kids are KIDS.

House keeping: The house is either a filthy pig sty that makes me want to scream, or I have it whipped into shape so much that I get angry if someone doesn't straighten the fibers on the carpet after they walk on it. I wish I could say I'm exaggerating, but really only a little. The OCD, she is a powerful beast.

And in other news:

Little Man has a Science Fair today. I have to go put some makeup on. I don't want to scare the children. What is funny about the Science Fair is that Little Man didn't even know about it. I am sometimes very worried about how much he doesn't listen. He would have to find that middle gear in order to listen very well. He doesn't even know he has a middle gear. When I finally explained to him about science, he said, "Boring". *sigh* Being a parent that gives a shit is a really hard job.|

Have a nice day!

Incognito

2011-02-22T10:03:00.001-07:00

Today is Monday, um, no wait, it's Tuesday acting like a Monday. Ugh! Though I'm glad that it's a short week, I still don't like it when days act like other days. Who do they think they are? Meryl Streep? No one, and I mean NO ONE is Meryl Streep except Meryl Streep. Yes I'm a fan. I'm a really big Meryl Streep fan. If I were an actor she is who I would hope to resemble in the slightest. She's even aging well. Really, really well, and she doesn't look like a plastic surgeon has tugged at her face. Yay!

I had something to tell you...vitally important and I uh, well, hmm? Oh wait, I remember. Aha! I was going to explain why you haven't seen any new pictures lately. It's because we have a new computer and I don't exactly know where the disc that came with my camera is, so, to download pictures, I just, huh, yeah. I will figure this out. I will. I just haven't yet.

Oh, one more note about Meryl Streep and then I'll stop sounding like Stalker Of The Year, she isn't Julia Roberts. I rather wish I could look like Julia, but then there would come all the other stuff....like the rumor that she is a DIVA and not very nice unless she is promoting a new film. I've never heard that sort of rumor about Meryl Streep. To look like Julia and act like Meryl....I'd be a double threat. Can you smell what I'm cooking?

On that note, I heard somewhere that The Rock went back to wrestling. Could it be true? Really? It bothers me. I'm not sure why, no wait, I do know why. It bothers me because The Rock, though Dwayne Johnson sounds like a porno name, was turning out to be pretty great on movies. The Rundown. Love it. Walking Tall. Love it. I even like The Game Plan. Now he's going back to wrestling. Am I the only one watching his movies? Huh? Maybe I am. Oh well, I just hope he doesn't give up on acting. I quite enjoy his big muscles and raised eyebrow. Talk about a double threat. Hee Hee Hee
Today I'm going to pretend this is an advice column.

Dear Jules,

I think you're the bomb diggety. Is there any advice you can give me so that we get more money back next year when tax time comes around again?

Signed,

Short Some Cash
Dear Short Some Cash,

First of all, thank you. I strive very hard to be the bomb diggety, though it doesn't always work out that way. So, thank you for noticing when it does.
Secondly, my advice is NEVER, AND I MEAN NEVER take money out of your IRA. That is if you have an IRA, because even though you may think you are smart and you take out enough to cover the taxes that you will be charged on that amount; come tax time they will still want more. And they will get it, unless somehow you decide to skip the country and not pay any taxes at all. They get their money from a 10% penalty. That penalty can decrease your refund MONUMENTALLY and you may be sad. You may even have feelings of anger. Perfectly normal, but avoidable. So even though you may have been smart and payed off a bill with that money, unless it was a medical bill, they will still get you. So let me put it this way, get out the KY, because you're gonna need it. Hope that helps.

Sincerely,

Jules

Have a nice day!

Not Making Sense

2011-02-18T15:06:00.000-07:00

OK, so I'm going to drag my butt up on my soapbox again. Have you ever heard someone talk about something that happened and the first thing you think is, "Not possible"? I just had that happen. It's like the guy who cut his own arm off to get off the mountain he was stuck on. You know, the movie? 127 Hours. Yeah, doesn't even seem like it could be real. Animals chew their own legs off to get out of traps....not people. And yet, the guy did. The climber, the bad ass, he saved his own life.

So I guess my soapbox thought for the day: the possible, the horrible, the unimaginable....sometimes it happens to people it shouldn't. Good people sometimes get ***ked by people who claim to love them. People who should love them. People like their parents.

Ahh, now I've got your curiosity on full tilt, don't I? Too bad, I won't give details. Just know this. What you send out into this world, will come back to you....both the good and the bad. If you care for others, try and help them, and trust them....that same vibe will come back to you. Care, helpfulness, trust. LOVE, baby, LOVE. But if you spend your time plotting against others unless they agree with you, and sometimes even if they do....well, karma is a bitch, and she knows where you live.

I'm angry today. I have a friend who was wronged. Here is my message to the person who wronged my friend:

Let the lying lips be mute, which speak insolently against the righteous in pride and contempt.

I'm Not A Libra For Nothing....or......Justice Isn't Blind, She Has Green Eyes

2011-02-17T11:01:00.000-07:00

It's rare that I don't have a title for my blog when I begin to write it. Usually the title comes before the blog. Today, not so much. It's more like my book today. It's still, "the book". I can't name it. I want to. I need to. It may even hone my thoughts about where the story is going, but instead, it remains the "the book".

I haven't written in it since the day I took it to Jury Duty. If anyone is wondering, Jury Duty pays $18.50 for the day. They pay you that even if you don't get picked for the jury. They pay you that if you do. And I did. I always get picked. I have a face that says, "JUSTICE". I have a voice that says, "NOT A COMPLAINER".

Here is what I've decided after being picked for a jury. Me and three men. The alternate was a woman, but she doesn't count because they send her home prior to our verdict. Plus, she didn't even get to sit in the jury box. It is not a great thing being an alternate. Unless one of the "real" jurors decides to go home and take a nap or drive to Mexico.....then the alternate would be a star juror. The juror that saves the day. Nobody left so our alternate got sent home. I felt sorry for her. She doesn't even know what happened after she left.

Anyhow, I've decided that I would LOVE to be a judge. I don't necessarily want to go to Law School. I don't necessarily want to preside over every case that would come before me, but I still want to be a judge. Do you know what the judge did while the lawyers talked? She stacked paper work. She stood in her honorable spot and stacked paper work. She seemed to still have a bead on the proceedings, but mostly, she organized her desk. She asked the prospective jurors a series of questions including, what is your favorite movie or TV show? I wanted to expound on my answer, but I didn't think anyone would appreciate it. So I just said, "Grey's Anatomy". Oh but do I ever have a much longer answer.

Here's what else I learned: The room where the jury waits has very comfortable chairs. The jury box. UNCOMFORTABLE. I also learned that I couldn't update my Facebook status after being picked for the jury. I also learned that they don't provide lunch. Color me upset.

$18.50 Jury Pay
- 5.50 Cafeteria Lunch

=13.00

I made even less than the jerks who pretended to be much too important to serve on a jury. Ugh! They could take their $18.50 and eat lunch at home. Or go back to work where they make a paycheck. There was a man sitting in front of me that did nothing but complain he had "I NEED TO GET OUT OF JURY DUTY NO MATTER WHAT" written all over his face. I wanted to kick his chair. I wanted to stand up and plead with the judge that jerks like him should be chosen to serve just for giving lame excuses about why he can't serve.

The guy right next to me didn't drink. In fact, he has a moral objection to alcohol. According to him, (apparently), I'm going to HELL. It was a DUI case, so that guy got sent home too. Huh!! Puh!! Chuh!!
Jerks!

Here's the thing though, it wasn't awful. It wasn't like we didn't sacrifice in order for me to serve for ONE DAY, but it wasn't awful. The judge rocked. I want her job. The bailiff was funny. I teased him about not playing Angry Birds on my phone when he had to confiscate the phones. Oh, and the best part, I got to talk to the D.A. (District Attorney) after we submitted our verdict. I told him he needed to find his flow and that even though I didn't expect a dog and pony show, I still would have liked him to sell their side of the story to me better.

Verdict: Not Guilty

Have a nice day!

Time Constrictor

2011-02-16T11:01:00.000-07:00

Not to be confused with boa constrictor. I want to see just how much I can tell you about in approximately ten minutes. I'm giving myself ten minutes because I have to go pick up Little Man from school soon. It seems I blink and all my free time is gone....flying away into the wind. And yes, it is windy today.

I love the new computer, though I can no longer fix a meal and clean up the kitchen in the time it takes to log on to the Internet. Weird I know. I don't actually miss that, but it was a good excuse to feed the OCD monster and get some stuff done.

Little Man has opted to play soccer this spring instead of t-ball. I think it was his way of expressing his distaste for t-ball. Little Man's list of things he'll miss about t-ball: snacks, and the cool trophy. I'm just kidding. He didn't say he would miss anything about it. I won't miss the boring practice times being ignored by fellow mother's who apparently didn't like me. Maybe I didn't wear enough deodorant. I'll be investigating that, just in case. **sniff, sniff, Do I offend?**

It's come to my attention that I'm unkempt. Is that even a word? I am not sure if I've always been unkempt, or if this is new. Something else I need to investigate. The thing is, well, the thing is, it's my hair. It's sort of frizzy, and rarely do I sport a stylish, perfectly finished coif. I have hippy hair. Today, it's parted down the middle, and I am wearing two simple braids. Today I look like Laura Ingles Wilder more than ever. And if you've never watched Little House On The Prairie, then you've been living under a rock I guess. She had prairie hair, and I have hippy hair. She had big teeth, and I have, *boohoo* big teeth. We both grew into women who don't look nearly so gawky as we once were. Thank the Lord in Heaven! No, really.

Dear Lord,

Thank you for the fact that I'm not bad looking and that so far my butt isn't too big. Thank you for parents who made dental care a priority.

Amen.

More to share, but it will have to wait. It is eleven, and my time is up.

Love to my peeps!|

Have a nice day!

I Didn't Choose

2011-02-08T17:31:00.001-07:00

I've been so disconnected...I know. Sorry, my bad. Our computer took a royal dump and so I went two whole days without one. I had no idea how plugged in I was until the fates unplugged me. I wasn't even completely without access, my phone still worked it's little android butt off, but I still had no "computer". It was weird. I felt strange, like an out of body experience.

We bought a new computer, and all is right with the world, I guess. At least all is right with the computer world, not that we're stoked about the price of technology....or diesel fuel while I'm at it. I'm just saying, $3.48/gallon is reee-donk-u-lus. Well it is.

Anyhow, here's what's been up in the wide world of Jules lately:

I locked myself out of the house....AGAIN. This time we were able to take shelter in the truck, and I could get in the garage, but that's it. Thanks to The Tire Guy for rescuing us.....AGAIN. I'm sorry you married such a dumb ass. Bad luck for you. But that dumb ass loves you like crazy. Hope that helps.

It's February...already. I have been called to perform my civic duty.....AGAIN. Really? Is there a box that I shouldn't have checked somewhere? Did the box read: Mark this box if you want to be called for jury duty every couple of years? Can I change my mind? I would like to opt out of that box. There should be a more fair and just way to choose jury members. How about in the state of Utah, if you drive a mini van with an odd number year that it was purchased, then you must be a jurist on odd years....like say, 2011. That would take care of Utah....forever. Yes, yes I hate mini vans. Passionately. I'm not even sorry if this offends anyone. Mini vans suck. I find out tomorrow if I have to show up at a courtroom WAY THE HELL ACROSS TOWN. I'm praying I don't. I have things to do.

I have a book to write. A son who is supposed to have a dentist's appointment. Taxes to figure out. Ugh! I don't even understand them. Not at all. We are considering going the Turbo Tax route this year and saving a few bucks. If the complete imbecile that did our taxes a couple years back can do them...then so can we. Right? Right? *crickets*

Also, in my uber busy February schedule...I'm catching up on some shows because laundry is still there when I'm finished watching Hulu. Today, I got caught up on Brothers and Sisters. I can't remember how I got hooked on that show. I kind of wish I wasn't but I am, I admit. I love the crazy Walker family. Besides, they've been through it all. So if you ever think you are going through something horrible, and you just can't take it....you watch the show and realize that Justin is a veteran, that had a drug addiction, fell in love with a girl that he thought might be a half sister and then married her after they found out they weren't related, attempted going to medical school, but found it too difficult, he had to choose between saving his mother in law or his brother in law after a horrible car accident, and then his wife left him shortly after she had a miscarriage. Yep, life here is pretty good, huh?

I've been thinking about Little Man's adoption a lot lately. He has this thing he does, he says, "Mama, you always carry me in your heart, right? And I carry you in my heart, right? And you would never cut me out of your heart, right?"

"Yep, that's right. The love I feel for you is the kind of love that lasts forever. Even when you can't see me, it's still there."

See the thing is, I didn't choose our Little Man. He wasn't like a puppy in a window. He chose us. We were meant to be a family and when that happens you know you've witnessed a miracle. Even though he didn't grow in my tummy, he grew in my heart. Lucky me.

More to come, now that I'm all plugged in again.

Have a nice day!

It's Not A Popularity Contest

2011-01-27T14:40:00.000-07:00

Believe it or not, when I was in school, I wasn't very popular. I wasn't very smart, and I wasn't very athletic. I was moderately popular, moderately smart and moderately athletic. No joke, really. All that really translates to is a girl who had a really big smile covered with braces for what seemed like an ETERNITY.

To get off track for a minute, don't you just love the word eternity? I do. It has such a nice sound to it, even when the 'eternity' in question is something you're dreading...the word is still nice. Calvin Klein is a genius. No really, he is. To name a perfume Eternity, and to make it smell like Eternity smells....well, the man is a freakin' genius. I have a feeling he was very popular, very smart, and possibly even, very athletic.

Back to my point....in school I was kind of a ginormous dork. I had friends, but very few boyfriends. I got good grades, but I certainly wasn't valedictorian. (Shout out to Mike....our valedictorian, and thanks to Facebook I get to keep in touch.) I was involved in volleyball, took stats for track just so I could go on trips with the team and get a tan while everyone else sweated their buns off, and I was on dance team. I would say I really "excelled" at dance team, but that would be a lie. I'm thinking of the time I fell smack on head while attempting a simple cartwheel. HUMILIATING.

I remember many times my Mama would tell me, "Jules, this isn't a popularity contest." Right! Sure it isn't, and yet the girls who were, uber smart, uber cute, and uber athletic were also uber popular. OK! Sorry but I'm pretty sure it IS a popularity contest, and I'm still only getting third runner up. Oh, maybe second. Anyhow, my point is that I was looking at all the people on my blog. For whatever reason they are called 'followers'. So dumb. These people aren't followers. Perhaps they were kind enough to take pity on this average girl and check out my random rambling from time to time, but I certainly wouldn't call them 'followers'. That's just insulting. Even I, of average intelligence, know that.

So I am giving a big cyber hug to the kind people who have taken pity on my blog, and me. ((HUGS))

Thank you for making me feel better than average. You people ROCK.

And in other news.....

I sold our mini fridge today. Woot! The woman who bought it also complemented me on my hair. Hehehehehehehe! She said, "I really like your 'average' hair." I'm just kidding. Though it would have been awesome if she would have said that. She was much too kind, and she didn't even try and low ball the price on me. So, wherever you are, mini fridge woman....thank you.

I also delivered some new Avon brochures. Is it weird that I won't hand out Avon brochures to people unless my hair and makeup is done? It just seems against the laws of nature to hand out a brochure filled with beauty products looking like crap. It's wrong, and I just won't do it.

I have a Cabela's gift card yet to spend. I'm excited about it. Here's what I'm not excited about....Cabela's hasn't restocked anything I want to buy. There are probably 1000 different things I could get, but what I WANT is slippers, cozy fleece pants, and a new down coat because, let's face it, down coats are the bomb-diggety and I would like to have one in every color of the rainbow. Speaking of down coats, they make good pillows when you're in a pinch....or when you are on lunch duty at the office that you work at, and everyone else has left the building and there is a sunny spot on the floor and after eating a sandwich and a bag of Doritos you're really tired and that sunny, warm spot on the floor is calling your name but all you have to lay your head on is your down coat. Yeah, they work good for that.

Have a nice day!

Winning Some Bread

2011-01-18T10:23:00.000-07:00

I've got to give 97.1 zht, the awesomest radio station ever, a shout out for my topic today. They were talking about couples where the wife makes more money than the husband, and what effect it has on the marriage. I even sent in a text message because although The Tire Guy makes more money than I do, like by a LOT, since I haven't had a real, honest to goodness paycheck in about six years, that if I were to start making a lot of money, more than he makes, that he would be over the moon. That would totally and completely whip his hair back. (Yes, that's a good thing.) He wouldn't be crying in his beer because his wife is raking in some big money, he'd be happy....really, really happy. The kind of happy where you pay off bills and you still have some left over to replace kitchen floors and go on vacation. That kind of happy.

It is my greatest wish for my book to be a success, get paid well for it, and take some of the financial pressures off the Hubs shoulders. How could that ever be a bad thing? There was talk of some men feeling emasculated by their wives' large paychecks. I think that is just silly. Especially when it should all be going in the same pot anyhow. Bills incurred should be joint bills, when debts are paid, it should be a joint celebration. Otherwise, what's the point of being married. When couples don't share their money, what's next? Their hearts? Their bodies? How about that? Is love making to be separate too?

Marriage is a partnership....in every way. Even when we wish it weren't. There are things I would love for The Tire Guy to not have to know about me....for instance, I'm terrible at math. I can't do it in my head, and if it weren't for a calculator, and the magic calculator in his head, I'd never get anything right. But we share the good and the bad. Yep, TTG is our bread winner, whatever that expression means, and I couldn't be more proud of him, more in love with him, or feel more blessed that he is my husband, and our son's daddy. The best thing about our kind of partnership is that if I started winning some bread, he'd feel the same way. In fact, he feels that way, even when I don't. That's love.

Have a nice day!!

An Old New Picture Or A New Old Picture

2011-01-11T10:16:00.000-07:00

It's been a really long time since I changed the picture on my profile. Since I changed anything about my blog at all. I find something that I like and I stick with it, I guess, but I figured what the heck, I should be grocery shopping or doing laundry but instead I've spent the last hour searching through thousands of photos, many of them of me, for one that I like just as well as the last one that I had on my profile.

Vanity, thy name is Jules, yet again. I will cop to it. I'm vain. I don't want to look crappy in public. I rarely if ever go to the store in sweatpants and a greasy ponytail. Sometimes, but only really late at night and I always move briskly. God forbid I end up on the People Of Walmart site. That would be a very sad day for me. However, having said that, I'm not opposed to looking quirky, as long as I still look cute. Hats? Sure hats are good. I look good in hats. Boots with skirts or over my pants, or just about with anything? Absolutely. Boots make me happy. Sparkly eyeshadow? Hells to the yeah...sparkles aren't just for 20 something club types....NOOO.

And in other news, I locked myself and Little Man out of the truck (running) and the house this morning when he had to be to school. Aargh!! That was fun. Standing outside in 20 degree weather, and having to call and admit to The Tire Guy that he is married to Utah's biggest dork. Yep, good times, good times. Thankfully, like a knight in dirty Subaru he drove all the way home to rescue us and wasn't even mad. I was mad....at myself. Some days you're the windshield, and some days you're the bug, and other days you're the idiot standing outside on your frozen porch with a irritable six year old.

Thanks to my neighbor. She was home. She let us in. She even took my irritable six year old to school. Proof that God exists, even for idiots.

Have a nice day!

That's It....You're Grounded Mister

2011-01-10T15:16:00.000-07:00

Sadly, Little Man was naughty today. I mean, off the charts, grounded for life, naughty. The backtalk alone is enough to make me want to drink heavily. So, I grounded him...and I am the one feeling punished. No TV, no Nintendo DS, and no games on Mama's phone. It's not easy being a good parent. Where's my wine?
Hee Hee Hee

Have a nice day!

January....You've Got To Be Kidding Me

2011-01-05T13:11:00.000-07:00

A new year is a new beginning for many people. It's a time to vow to be something more, something better, something skinnier or healthier....for me it's a time to think about tax time, just around the corner, decisions about Little Man's schooling, just around the corner, Spring time travel, just around the corner, and Summer meetings, just around the corner. January is not a restful month. There is no post holiday lull to be enjoyed. No rest for the wicked, and make no mistake, I am wicked. Hee Hee Hee

I took a picture of the back of Murphy's head. It makes me feel like he's thinking, possibly pouting. I imagine him saying, "I can't face the camera....not today." He's so over dramatic. I wonder where he got that from. I'm loving mobile blogging, except that I can't seem to post pictures from my phone. I know it must be possible....I've heard of such things being done....I just don't know how to do it. There will be a big, AHA moment when I finally figure it out.

Did you all hear about the guy on the streets with the "voice for radio"? He was looking to find a job. Two years sober and ready to start his life again? It got me to thinking....if a recovering addict with a great voice can get the help he needs by holding a sign on the street then perhaps I need to go down to an I-15 off ramp with a sign of my own. It would read:

WILL WRITE TO BE PUBLISHED

My book is nearing(ish) completion. Just need to figure out how to get myself a literary agent, and from there, a publisher. I'll keep you posted on my progress. If you happen to see me on the side of the road with a sign, feel free to pull over and say "hello", and I'd like a coffee if you don't mind.

Have a nice day!

2011-01-04T22:18:00.001-07:00

Electric throw blanket....so nice and toasty warm. I don't think I will move from this spot.

2010-12-30T19:50:00.001-07:00

Mommy, my heart just broke. Why? I said. I don't know why. I think its cause I need to lay down on my bunk. Ok, I said. Go lay down. :-)