Random Monday

In CategoryNavel Gazing, Random Monday


• I’ve been meaning to link to this for weeks, it’s so funny. Dave Barry’s Year in Review. The potheads of Colorado figure prominently.

• Regarding the Death of Blogging, I read this by Kit at DIY Diva (one of my favorites) and felt better.

• Here’s something about Oregon: I cannot get a decent cup of coffee anywhere in this state. There are these tiny little drive-through coffee huts all over the place and they all have one thing in common – their coffee sucks. You’d think being so close to the birthplace of Starbucks would’ve influenced the offerings here, but no. So when I want a hot drink I don’t have to make myself, I get hot chocolate. It’s pretty good. But after about three days of hot chocolate instead of coffee, the monkey on my back smacked me in the head and said, “Hey, Dumbass! I need CAFFEINE!” and then gave me a migraine as punishment.

• We took the kids out for breakfast yesterday. I grabbed a real estate booklet on the way in and Big and I checked it out while we waited. Big pointed at the biggest fanciest houses and announced that was he was going to have when he grew up. I told him I could do just fine in a detached guest house and he should start making plans to keep me in the manner in which I wish to become accustomed. After Big agreed I could live with him, Jim was all like, “hey, what about dad?” and Big said, “I suppose I can make a doggie door in the kitchen for your walker.”

The ladies seated next to us laughed so hard I thought they might fall on the floor and break a hip.

Later, when I refused to give Big half my bacon, he told me in all seriousness, “see, the decisions you make now are going to determine how you live later.”

• Happy Monday, y’all!

Into and Over It: 2015 Edition

In CategoryNavel Gazing


• House of Cards. We are late to this party, but I can’t get enough of Kevin Spacey and how deliciously ruthless he is in this show.

• Breakfast burritos. They are considerably more work than cereal and yogurt, but at least the kids don’t start cheeping for lunch at 10:30am when I make them.

• Sofa shopping. I am leaning toward this one. I am trying not to get toooo obsessed with kitchen remodeling. I have a plan to take out all the cabinets and rearrange them. Don’t tell Jim.

Over It

• This morning I read some decluttering blog where the writer said, “In the words of Elsa, ‘Let it go!'” Here’s what we need to let go of, people: Frozen. I am not even kidding. The songs, the merchandise, the eternal pop-culture references to a stupid cartoon with seriously one of the worst songs ever….it’s run it’s course. I’m begging you. No more Frozen.

• People who don’t pick up after their dogs. Lookit. If your dog is going potty anywhere but your own yard – pick it up. I swear, every time we go to the beach, I want to go home and print out a giant sign to post that says, “This is a PATH, not a TOILET.” I don’t want to see dog poo. Anywhere. At the beach. In the woods. On a trail. At the reservoir. On the sidewalk. It’s rude and inconsiderate. If I wanted to step in dog poo, I’d get a dog. If you don’t want to pick up after your dog, then stop bringing it places. Dogs are, arguably, a part of nature. However, the beach is not your dog’s habitat. Habitat being the place he eats and potties. That place is your yard. At any other location, your dog is a guest. Good guests don’t relieve themselves in the middle of the party.

Perhaps you are Over posts about poo.

Marsala, the Pantone Color of the Year. What is Pantone, you ask? Pantone is a group of people who decide what colors are popular. This sounds ridiculous, but it’s true and very serious business. You want to know why yellow is everywhere all of a sudden and you can’t find forest green anywhere? Because the powers that be decreed it so. Companies listen to the Color Forecast (that’s totally a thing) and it guides them when deciding what colors cars should be, what color all the cute decor accents at Target will be, even what colors clothing collections will be. This is simultaneously fascinating and irritating to me. The next time you want to buy a cute pink accessory and all you can find is Radiant Orchid, you’ll know why.

Regarding the color Marsala specifically, I am pretty sure we already endured this back in the late 80s/early 90s and it was called Burgundy. Perhaps paired with the aforementioned Forest Green. What next, Pantone? Wallpaper borders printed with geese in bonnets? Powder blue Swiss dot fabric and broomstick skirts?

Marsala: Good for Mushroom Marsala Pasta Bake. Walls? Not so much.

Happy 2015, y’all!


In CategoryNavel Gazing

Remember how I said I was trying some new stuff to help with the Menopausey-ness of it all? Well, the gyno listened to my stories and said that we should try some hormone therapy, aka low dose birth control pills. So I took them for three months and then went back to the doc to talk about how we thought it was going. I said it seemed fine, that some days I thought it was helping with my mood swings and some days I didn’t –

well, actually, I put Jim in charge of paying attention to my emotional state because I feel like I have lost all sense of perception. Like, am I cranky? Or does everyone just need to stop pissing me off? Jim said sometimes I still seemed grouchy, and I was like they aren’t Stepford Wife Pills, JIM. I’m not SEDATED. Jeez.

– but that I had been having a lot more migraines lately and wondered if the pills had anything to do with it. She perked up at that and asked me a few more questions about the headaches and then said, “okay, you’re done. you can’t take them anymore, you could have a stroke.”  I blinked. “What? We aren’t even going to talk about it? Just no?” Right. Just no. And then she said stroke a few more times until finally I burst out, “STOP SAYING STROKE FOR SHIT’S SAKE I AM ONLY FORTY THREE!” and clapped my hand over my mouth in surprise. The doctor laughed and went on to tell me about the next step, which is basically antidepressants.

I have lots of mixed feelings about antidepressants. For one thing, I am not depressed. I am cranky. I don’t have any of the symptoms of depression, except being tired a lot, which I think is more about staying up late watching The Real Housewives. If antidepressants help the Terminally Crabby, why don’t they say that? Why don’t they call them AntiGrouchants? How come you never hear about celebrities with anger management issues being prescribed antidepressants and then never having another outburst? (coughAlecBaldwincough) Are they just throwing antidepressants at grouchy 40-somethings and hoping we go away? Or do they really help? I don’t see how being annoyed and being depressed are related, therefore I don’t see how antidepressants would help. Does that make sense? Plus also, being annoyed is surely sometimes NORMAL. I mean, other people are annoying! Is taking antidepressants for crankiness the old lady equivalent to drugging 6 year old boys because they don’t want to sit still for 8 hours a day? By which I mean, trying to drug away the normal? Do I really want to muck around in my brain? That’s scary. What if I turn into a zombie? What if I have some terrible reaction? What if I decide to go off them and have those horrible suicidal withdrawels you hear so much about? What if this is the beginning of some stupid endless roller coaster of doctor’s appointments and trying various medications that creates more problems than it solves? We have some new insurance that is impossible to deal with and makes me want to stab someone (in a normal way, obv).

ANYWAY. I have a lot of thoughts, as you can see. You guys have any thoughts?



Random Monday

In CategoryNavel Gazing


• I thought this article was SO interesting – My Great-Great-Aunt Discovered Francium and it Killed Her.

• If Jim had a beard, I would totally make him do this

Hipster Beards!

• This is an interesting post – Let’s Stop Giving Our Crap to the Poor –  very thought provoking. It inspired lots of conversation in the comments as well.

I have mixed feelings about this, although I think I know what she’s getting at. I personally love donating stuff, and I also shop at thrift stores regularly. Practically everything my kids wear comes from a fantastic little thrift store run by a Christian group that cares for the children of incarcerated mothers with their proceeds. I love finding clothes for my kids there, and love the idea that someone else can be just as overjoyed to find our old things. I do not donate items that are broken or stained – if I wouldn’t buy it at the thrift store, I don’t donate it. Someone told me once that I should cut all the cute buttons off Little’s clothes before donating them so I could start a button collection. I was a little nonplussed at this suggestion, because cutting off the buttons would render the garment useless and it seemed just plain mean to donate something I had already gutted for parts. I did recently wonder if I should have donated Little’s outgrown underpants. They were perfectly good – just too small. Still….used underpants seem icky so I just tossed them. But in doing so, did I deny some other mother what she needed?

• This one really got to me – The Day My Son Gave Up On Me. We’ve all been there, right?

Motherhood is a choice you make everyday

to put someone else’s happiness and well being ahead of your own

to teach the hard lessons

to do the right thing

even when you’re not sure what the right thing is

and to forgive yourself

over and over again

for doing everything wrong

-Donna Ball, novelist