Tuesday, November 19, 2013

Sag and Bag

It's depressing really.

I haven't even made it across the threshold from young adulthood into middle adulthood.
My Girl says my tush is falling to the back of my knees. My hands hurt when I stitch or paint too much. I can pop my hips, ankles and wrists just by moving. And let's not forget the eyesight, crows feet and grey sparklies. My one consolation is that part of me will forever remain 24... woot woot!
Why can't we be 94 and look 24?

Really, I guess there is nothing wrong with aging "gracefully". I'm just hating because I can't afford to be high maintenance. Don't judge.
Or... maybe it's the whole ingrained idea that I'm not a spring chicken anymore and who in their right mind would want me when there are lot's of reeces pieces hard body little gals running around.

It makes me wonder and worry. Am I going to end up the "Old Plant Lady" ... drinking my spiked lemonade alone on the front porch? All you would have to do is look in my office to see that I am well on my way. My mother was already remarried by this age... what about me?

I don't know. Maybe I am just losing my joy. We can blame the current section in my psychology book for this completely bizarre rant. My professor is the one who titled this stage the "Sag and Bag" stage. Blah.

I know... the reality of it all is this:

Life is gravy. My wisdom grows in leaps and bounds while my tush falls to the floor. (And really it's not.) I may not have my teenage hard body, but I have 2 beautiful babies and I have lost almost 50 pounds. I have the beginnings of crows feet because I smile... a lot! The grey hair that I have is so minimal most people don't see it unless it shines in the sunlight; hence why I call it sparklies.
And really... I may get lonely sometimes, but I would rather be alone than settle to be with the wrong person.... from my experience... it's totally not worth it.

On another note... 8.5 ornaments down... almost there.

Give a random hug to someone today.

Friday, November 15, 2013

It only took 4 years!

Score one for the home team!
My Christmas Calendar is complete! Along with 3 of the ornaments. Only 22 ornaments to go. I think I can, I think I can! Hahahaha. Whatcha think?






I know, I know... lot's of photos. I was way too excited. And I know that 4 years is a long time to complete something. Please keep in mind that I work full time plus some, take classes as I can and have kids... oh and Cricket. Cricket is really codependent. Oh, and let's not forget that I had other projects going on at the same time... like painting with the kids. The Boy does an excellent job mimicking Monet... even for his age.
I'm not sure how long it will be before I start another big project. Really, I should buckle down and tackle Van Gogh, but not sure there is enough absinthe in the world for that kind of gumption at this point. Maybe not even the Green Fairy can give me a good shove.
Maybe I should just stick to some little projects until I'm fully inspired again.

On another note... things have been interesting. Rescued a friend after they broke down today... I'm like a Fairy Godmother. It's free coffee week... who doesn't like coffee? And free at that? I was told that it is completely unacceptable for me to be single. Really? And, I managed to get two shots in the tush once the Dr. determined I was negative for mono and strep. Just pump me full of drugs and send me on my way. Fabulous, right?!

So... on that note, I'm off. I have small fries to pick up. I think we will play marco polo while in WalMart. You know... my day is not complete until I have utterly horrified some random stranger.
Blame it on the pixie sticks.
Sugar high!

Friday, November 8, 2013

It's a horse and Girl thing.

Horses... one of God's greatest creatures. Unless you have them, or have had them, you may not understand.
I spent some time growing up in New Mexico. We had horses... 7 of them. I still dream of them.
Horses have a calming effect on a person. There something about riding that makes you feel free and that the world holds endless possibilities.
Needless to say, I was most happy when my Girl started racing. The bond she had with her horse, Sephirah, was amazing to see. They were like magnets. My girl would walk and Sephirah just followed, no harness necessary. 
Sephirah was just weened when we introduced her to my Girl, who was 8. I think that's why they were so close. My Girl would treat her with fruit roll ups, gummy worms and cherry popsicles. She'd sit under her and rub her belly, just like with her previous pony, Bunky. 
Tragically, we lost Sephirah in a traumatic accident. My girl called me screaming. I rushed from work, not understanding anything over the phone other than hurry. I was not prepared for the amount of physical trauma our poor Sephirah had suffered. I'm talking ripped flesh to the bone on her  hind legs from her hips down and buckets of blood. Thankfully, my Girl's Step-Mother was a Vet Tech and had sedated Sephirah. None of the vets could come put her down. I had to physically remove my girl from the premises in order for her Father to do what he had to do. Her desperation was more than I could bear. My poor girl wouldn't even go in her bedroom at my house until I removed all of her racing ribbons, photos and horse decor. We spent the next day in bed. So sad, Sephirah was about 7 yrs old. We lost her all too soon.
 I keep Sephirah's photos where I can pull them out every now and then.
She was an amazing creature.
After Sephirah, my Girl didn't ride for months. I couldn't blame her. She'd lost her shadow. 
Finally, she met Skeeter. He was beautiful, 4 yrs old and already broke. I think he came along to ease her fears of never riding again. Skeeter was shy of her at first. The next picture was taken as she was gently getting him to come to her. He finally kissed her on the nose and they were bonded. 
Unfortunately, I received another phone call in the middle of the night a couple of months later. Skeeter had collic. (sp?) The vet did all she could, but his stomach ended up rupturing. He had to be put down. I arrived just after Skeeter breathed his last breath. My Girl was just sitting, rubbing his face, and crying. As with Sephirah, we kept a lock of his hair.
My Girl hasn't raced in so long now. I miss seeing her glide around the barrels or bending the poles. Even better were her 16 second arena races... they make your pulse speed. I'm glad she still rides her Father's and Step-Mother's horses. It's a beautiful thing... to see your daughter carefree. She just hasn't felt the need for her own again. Maybe she never will. 

Thursday, November 7, 2013

A guaranteed epic failure of massive proprotions:

Here I sit.
Two of the many hats I wear are teacher and student. Before I left last week for South GA, I concluded the class I was teaching. I took up all the final exams and hit the road with screeching tires. It was quite an accomplishment!
Here's where the failure comes in to play. I missed two of my psychology classes while I was on vacation. Well, it is human development, we're on the chapters about teenagers, and I figured that I have one so it can't be too hard. Am I wrong? I already know that they suffer from adolescent egocentricism, what else is there to know?! 
Anyhoo... I returned to class this past Tuesday night, just in time to find out that exam 3 for this semester is tonight! Holy cow batman! (Only that was not what I was saying... insert the buckets full of vocal diarrhea... f-bomb included.)

I had not read the chapters. I didn't take my text book with me on vacation. I had not even started on the extra credit.
I had intended to start on my assignment yesterday while in my office. Did I? No. I piddled around.
At home, I did complete all but two of the questions in my assignment. I know, I left two... hey! It took me 3 hours just to get the first 6 complete!
So... here I am, day of the exam, scrambling. I have a photo shoot at 2, a dentist appointment at 3 and the exam at 6. So.... for you lucky people in other parts of the world that are behind my EST... raise your glasses and drink one up to me for my epic failure.... at at the very least, lift a prayer up on my behalf because though I suffer from OCD tendencies, I can be a complete slacker!  Fingers crossed I can pull a rabbit out of one of my many hats and at least bull shit my way through this one!
Don't forget to breathe!

Wednesday, November 6, 2013

For the LOVE of Spanish Moss and Halloween stitching...

It's been a crazy few weeks full of house/pet sitting and a trip to south GA. The road trip proved to be exciting and frustrating all wrapped in one. I whole heatedly believe that colorful verbiage has it's uses during specific times and at certain places. With that being said, I am not ashamed to admit that during rush hour traffic I suffered from severe diarrhea of the mouth; buckets full. No worries, though, I am happy to report that there were no minors riding in the vehicular unit. Other than that, I am way too excited for the familial wagon train road trip to Elvis Town for Thanksgiving. Beale Street.... here I come!


Random thought for the day.... Am I completely bonkers to think that saying "I LOVE Spanish Moss" is a complete understatement? It's completely fabulous! This photo was taken down on the banks of the Chattahoochee River. (Please do not start singing to Alan Jackson.)

I have completed some stitches for Halloween this year. (Pat myself on the back.) I just haven't figured out how to finish them as of yet. I guess since this Halloween is now in the past, I can put them off for a while in order to channel my creativity.


Speaking of creativity, or lack there of... I have yet to finish my Christmas calendar. Miss Sherry keeps reminding me to "get 'er done", and with all good intentions I plan on working on the stinking project, but then get home just in time to ignore it. HAHA. Ok, not so funny. I have to finish it this year. IT WILL NOT TAKE ME 5 YEARS TO COMPLETE!!!! (I just keep repeating that in my head. Unfortunately it hasn't created a permanent neural pathway as of yet.)

Before I go... my Boy came into the room the other night while I was stitching and asked me what I was doing. Once I replied, I asked him if he would like to. After all, I was younger than him when I started. He proceeds to answer with, "Heck no! That is completely boring and I don't understand why you would do it!"  So, I told him to go on with his bad self. I kid you not... not even 10 minutes went by before he was back in my room and digging through my stash to find some material and thread. I asked him what he was doing. He said, "Well, I'm already bored so maybe it won't be so bad to stitch." That's my Boy!!! So, he stitched his own little stitch. Then he proceeded to snip all my snips into a ball of... well... mush. I think it's his new amusement.
 *** Yes, I do love my Boy. He chooses to dress like I don't love him on the weekends. I cross my heart and hope to die that he has non-holey jeans and collared shirts for school.

Keep it real.