Where Am I?

I'm on hiatus.  Check in periodically to see if I've found my way back please.  I may be lost. 

Semi-Annual Visit to the Torture Chamber

Not one damned thing since the last time I was there.

Except they didn't call me bleach blonde - they called me Yo!  Red!

Heinous experience.  As always.

ROWE - - - A List Revisited

A few months ago, my company made the decision to implement a new work culture - ROWE.  When we first decided to make this transition, I made a list of what this transition meant for ME, as a person, and how it would impact MY personal life.  You can see that list here.  But what I want to do now is revisit that list to see just how much of that held true.

I can wear those kick-ass tights that look like tattoos all over - and I won't give a crap what anyone thinks.  I have not worn those tights yet.  Although I have put them on twice - I've determined I do not like the dress that I had planned to wear with them.  And everytime I put them on the husband says, "I don't know why you would even want to wear those things."  I'm going to wear them one day just to piss him off.  As soon as I find a dress that I like. 

I can get me some groovy boots and cool clothes and be that creative soul I've always dreamed of being.  Okay - I got two new pair of boots.  But I don't know that I'd consider them "groovy" - but I have been expanding my creative soul as it pertains to my clothing - but bottom line is this:  I'm a conformist.  So I guess I'm not going to actually wear groovy clothes and put myself "out there" in the spotlight.  I'm not creative and as soon as I realize that the happier I will be.

I can take daytime exercise classes - like Zumba - and get back that 20 year old body I once had. HA!  I haven't explored even finding a Zumba class in town.  I have, however, been trying to walk frequently.  Both outdoors and on the new treadmill we got.  Exercise is not something I enjoy for some reason.  But I continue to try and push forward.

I can go eat lunch with my youngest.  I despise eating with youngsters - a whole group of them - and their heinous school lunches.  So I forgot I even put this on my list.  But now that I see it on there - I will make a point to do this AT LEAST ONCE this school year.  Because I know it will delight her. 

I can be home when she gets on the bus and home when she gets off the bus.  This I have done nearly every day.  Likely 98% of the time I am here for this.  I am grateful for this time with her and while it's not known if it provides an immediate joy to her - I know that one day she will have an appreciation for this time.

I can make certain my family is eating healthy every single day - not just a few times a week.  This is pretty much working out well.  Except for the last week - when I did not put a single vegetable or fruit on the table at any meal.  I fell into a slump.  I went on an all-carb vacation and it's time to return to healthy eating.

I can go watch my son play his first college baseball game.  I did go watch him play a game!!!  So that's good.  And I look forward to more of these opportunities in the spring. 

I can be here for my 15 year old daughter as she travels through the next few years of her life.  I'm here.  But it's become obvious to me (painfully so) that I don't have a clue how to be a mother to a 15 year old daughter.  My mom had me when she was 16, my mom moved out when I was 16.  I have no good personal experience on how to mother a daughter.  I have found myself expecting her to know what to do and to be independent and strong.  So now I have to figure out what I SHOULD be doing at this age and what kind of support I SHOULD and NEED to be providing to her. 

I can go for those walks with my cousin at lunch that we enjoy so much. While I HAVE walked, I haven't been on a single walk with my cousin. 

I can get the invoicing done for my husband's business and help him build that to an even higher level if that's his dream.  He's been on the same job since I transitioned my work schedule to a ROWE - so there has been no invoicing that needs done.

So you see - those things that I THOUGHT I wanted to achieve when I went into a ROWE - I haven't really done any of them.  BUT - I will tell you this:  I FEEL more in control of my life.  I don't feel like it's reeling out of control any longer.  Except over the last two weeks, when I HAD to be places at specific times of the day for work related functions - it hit me again - OUT OF CONTROL.  I reverted back to my place of discontent of monumental proportions.  I stopped cleaning.  Cooking.  Laundry.  All things halted because I was trying to get places at certain times.  And I couldn't cope in any other manner but to hide in my bed.  So this week, I'm looking forward to getting back on track - where life and work are one and the transition from one to the other is void.  

More Hair Talk

I shouldn't even talk about this.  I shouldn't even show it.  Or discuss it.  Or admit it.  But since this blog is all about inane truths - I'm doing it anyway.

Last night I found a stray hair.  It's not the first.   And I'm sure it won't be the last.  I find them in the damndest places at the damndest times.  Driving down the road, on my way to an important meeting, glance in the visor mirror and BAM!  Fucking goat hair 2" long on my chin.  Or on my cheek.  Or maybe on my neck.

But this time it was different.  I was at home.  And I spotted it on my SHOULDER.  I first saw it like 2 weeks ago and couldn't locate the tweezers so ignored it.  But tonight  - it was out of control.  Almost to the point that I hesitated to pluck it - because a small part of me really wanted to wait and see just how long it might actually grow if I were to leave it alone.  But then the OCD set in and it HAD.TO.GO.

The toothbrush is there to give you perspective on its amazing length.  Don't worry - the toothbrush belongs to the husband and Aunt Flo made me do it - I didn't want to set the hair next to his toothbrush - but her will is stronger than mine and so it came to be that his toothbrush was used as the comparison measuring device.  Don't worry - I put it back before he ever knew.  I don't think he really likes Aunt Flo.  But I can assure you - she despises him even more.  She has some type of fucked up vendetta against him that I don't quite comprehend.

I, personally, would have used a ruler.  Or an earring.  Or a stick of gum as the measuring device.  But she kept screaming out "Grab the husband's toothbrush - it's right there and so handy - just use it to measure your shoulder goat hair against!!"  She won that battle.  I am no rightful opponent against this evil bitch.  I used to be - but lately she overpowers me with her sickening control and desire to rule the universe.  I'm just too tired to battle her so I let her have her way thru the duration of her visit.

But back to this hair  - SERIOUSLY?  Who the fuck grows a single goat hair of that magnitude on their SHOULDER?  What the hell did I do to Mother Nature to deserve this abuse?  Why?  Why does this happen to women?  I don't get it.  And chances are, I never will.  What I do know and understand is that searching for random bullshit hair is soon going to become an all-consuming task.  And it just seems so.... unfair.  I mean, I've been a regular shaver, groomer of the hairs.  A fanatic some might say.  But this new crazy assed display of hair will likely be the death of me.

I back-comb my hair daily - because.... I LIKE big hair.  I was recently informed that this act will cause your hair to FALL OUT and you'll go bald.  Are you shitting me?  Oh well - at least I'm now growing hair on my back and instead of the comb-over - I can do the comb-UP - from my back to my forehead.  It's going to be a GREAT look.  ALL.THE.RAGE.  I can already see it.

Flo brings more surprises with her each time she visits.  Maybe next visit she'll plant hair on my increasingly shrinking (is that an oxymoron) breasts!  And then I can just do the hair shawl type of thing.

My adventures in life are abundant.  Don't be a hater.

Out of CONTROL

So, you know I work primarily from home.  But not for the last week I don't.  Oh hell no.  I had to actually leave the damned house last week - THREE DAYS IN A ROW.  And drive 75 miles each way to attend a conference my company was hosting.  Which was all well and good and the conference was nice and I enjoyed seeing my colleagues and interacting with our clients.  But the DRIVE and the ACT of leaving the house damned near did me in.

And then this week I had to leave the house 3 times to attend work related events and this whole getting up and dressed and shit ON A SCHEDULE has me totally pissed off.  I had NO idea how accustomed to doing my own thing on my own schedule I had become.

And Aunt Flo fucking stopped by for the week - you know - to spread joy and cheer throughout the universe.  So my ability to cope with the slightest upset in plans has been completely lost.  Today I looked up and it was 4:30 - and no dinner was prepared.  Shit.  Damn this dinner thing anyway.  But I scrambled and threw together some homemade mac-n-cheese with hamburger in it. The blonde asked why I didn't just buy Hamburger Helper.  I don't know blonde.  I don't know.  Because I'm an over-achiever and like to make my life as difficult as possible?  Or maybe I think I'm doing you all a favor by not feeding you boxed food?  But I haven't put a fruit or vegetable on the table for a week.  Mother Of The Year is once again lost.

And I haven't been on the treadmill in that long either.  And evidently I have self-image issues because when I look in the mirror I see FAT ASS TUB O' LARD because I haven't been on the treadmill.  And the brunette told me I was just 1 pound away from anorexia.  Which is a total exaggeration.  I don't know where she gets that trait.  I really don't.

Tomorrow night I'm going to a concert with my mom.  I've NEVER been to a concert with my mom.  I don't know that I've been anywhere but to the mall or to a craft show with my mom.  A ROCK CONCERT.  HEART!!!  I am totally stressed.  What to wear?  I bought a million outfits.  Tonight I made the family watch as I tried them each on.  And FINALLY we all agreed on one.  We'll see if that's the one I actually wear tomorrow night or not.

Mom doesn't smoke.  I do.  Mom hates cigarette smoke.  I respect her so I respect her desire to not be around it.  I'll be taking some Nicorette gum with me to the outing.

Mom likes to maybe have a drink.  Maybe two.  I like to drink the bar dry.  I'll be trying to pace myself before the concert so as to be able to actually WALK and maneuver the seating in my 4" heels without totally embarrassing my mom.

Mom wants to hear Barracuda.  I want to hear Crazy on You.

We're like peas and carrots - me and mom.

I'm a nervous wreck.  And yet - there's something inherently wrong with that picture. 

I'm sure we'll have a blast!  The husband has agreed to be our driver for the night!  He's a good sport. I love him.  Even if Aunt Flo hates his fucking guts, I adore him.  She's threatened to kick his ass more than once in the last 5 days. Good thing I'm around to save him.  I hope he appreciates that.  I'm not sure he completely understands how many times I have saved him from her hands that are desperate to just fucking strangle his neck.  How many times I've instructed her to just keep her mouth shut when she's begging to tell him to just SHUT.THE.FUCK.UP.  How many times I've sent her ass to bed when she's yearning to give him a piece of her mind.

I'm totally under-appreciated.

P.S. - Forgot I was supposed to be on a "positive" kick - go figure.  So here's my positive thought of the day:  I'm so glad we had food in the house so that I could throw together that dinner spur of the moment.

I only wish someone else had prepared it so I didn't have to.  - - - Jesus.  This still isn't coming naturally to me.

I guess I'm on vacation?

..... or something.  I haven't cleaned.  I haven't cooked.  I haven't done laundry.  I haven't done a damned thing around this house since Sunday morning.  And I don't care.  My give a shit has got up and gone.  I hope it finds its way back home soon because I'm getting sick of tripping over shit and eating handfuls of cereal. 

The impending holidays have me in a foul mood already.  Why must we start planning them in October?  Well, I guess it is now November.  But still.  All this hooplah and who's going where, when and blah blah blah - it kills the spirit and fun for me.  I have nothing nice to say (like I ever do).  Maybe from here until January 1st I will just post something nice each day - just one nice thought.  Maybe that will help encourage my attitude into a positive state? 

Let's give it a whirl:

The warm sun felt wonderful on my face today!!!

(but the cool breeze up my skirt pissed me off)

This is not going to be easy, I can see that already.

Why is 2nd Grade such a PAIN IN THE ASS?

We had parent teacher conferences this week for the blonde - she's in 2nd grade.  And her teacher is an old grouch.  I'd already determined this before I met her and meeting her only confirmed my initial instinct.  First off, the blonde is smart.  And one of the oldest in her class because thanks to the laws in our state - she wasn't 5 by September 1st and instead turned 5 on September 20th so basically was 6 by the time she started kindergarten. It's a stupid law.  It really is.  Especially so, given the fact that kindergarten isn't even fucking required in this state.  So explain to me how a non-required grade has laws that dictate when you can start?  But wait - you can't just skip it either.  Or we couldn't figure out how to skip it.  Maybe we are the stupid ones.

I digress.  When she was in kindergarten, she read at over a first grade level.  The teacher had her reading to kids in the class that could not yet read on their own and daily she went to a first grade class (after going to the Board on our behalf and getting approval to do this) for reading.  In first grade, the 2nd grade class was too full, so she couldn't go there to read, but her teacher got her hands on the 2nd grade material and was teaching her and some others from that material.

Throughout both grades, her behavior was exemplary and she was commended on her focus and dedication to school work - beyond her years.

Then she gets to second grade - with the old hag.  And all of a sudden - she's reading at a level BELOW where she left off last year.  She can no longer add AND her behavior is shitty.  So I SUGGESTED to the teacher that the child is bored and explained to her why I thought that.  She looks at me and says, "I find that hard to believe.  I don't see that she's any more intelligent than the others in my class."  SERIOUSLY?  You just fucking showed me that on the standardized tests taken early in the year that she tests higher than you expect her to by the end of the year.  So, if at the beginning of the year she tests higher than she should at the end of the year after she's been under your tutelage, one would THINK that she is bored and finds the work non-challenging, wouldn't you say?

Well.  No.  I mean - she sees her as a goof off, not paying attention, scoring horribly on her comprehension tests for reading.  I suggested that she's not really reading the books at all and that instead perhaps she's scanning them and guessing BECAUSE SHE IS BORED.  But this bitch wouldn't budge.  Her granddaughter is in the gifted program - and she's BRILLIANT - she's in the 3rd grade and reads at a 7th grade level.  I'm sure she does and I'm duly impressed, but I'm not really here to hear about your granddaughter and would like to get back to the blonde, if you don't mind please, kthanks.

After I make some other clear and pointed observations about how the blonde likes to be treated and how she shows me that she's bored to tears at school, she finally makes a note on a piece of paper and agrees to keep an eye out for it.  THEN, the bitch admits that Grace is one of those students that's just easy to lose track of - because she just plods along, status quo so she doesn't get much attention.  THANK YOU GEORGE FUCKING BUSH FOR NO CHILD LEFT BEHIND.  EXCEPT for regular, smarter than usual, but not quite "gifted" children.  Who are left behind to be bored and ignored in the public school system.  Thank you.  It's a great fucking program and it's working out quite well I'd say.

And again, why is it that the most wretched teachers are those that teach 2nd grade?  I had a horrible 2nd grade teacher - you may remember I wrote about her here. 

I'm still haunted by that bitch.  Is it all part of the master plan of the universe?  Is that the weeding out year?  Ignore them and treat them like they're idiots - those that survive will become successful and those that don't - well that's just too damned bad?  Fuck her.  And yes.  I'm pissed.  Granted, the blonde could be more organized.  And watch less TV.  And we could probably get her engaged with social activities that include people her age instead of having her play beer pong with us on the weekends - and I'll commit to being a better parent to her in that regard.  But I want this wretch of a woman to get off her high horse and be the educator she's getting paid to be.

She's crossed the wrong mama here.