Pretention

You know that line from Steel Magnolias, "an ounce of pretention is worth a pound of manure?" It's so true! Pretentious people elicit an aura like a bad odor that spreads out telling everyone around that they think they're better than you. Congratulations on your new baby! Did you really have to name him Glasgow Falkirk Pile? You understand that it's the equivilent of someone in Scotland naming their child Boston Pittsburgh MacLeod, right?

So I see this blog thing went really well

I blogged approximately 3 times before letting it fall to the wayside; how very like me. . . I don't think I've ever filled a diary either. And it's not as if nothing of interest happened in the past year. So shall we try again? Today is Friday June 11, 2010. I awoke to a hot day with high humidity. School is out, so the kids are bored and looking for something to do. I get tired of hearing myself say "No, you can't go swimming" 100 times a day, but I can't tell them yes because there is no one to supervise them. Work is dull, not a thing going on except that my boss mentioned that Corporate wanted to know if I have any interest in moving to Dallas to manage a property. That's a good question. I'm pretty sure the answer is no, but it's an idea worth considering. Right now though, life is good. Not perfect, I mean, the house is never clean, the pantry is never full, and the dishes never 100% washed. I've learned that it's easy to ignore calls from debtors if you don't answer the phone and delete voicemails without listening to them. But my health is good, my kids are good, marriage is good, nothing worth complaining about for fear it could be worse. Besides, it's really important to live in the moment, and at the moment I'm happy. :)

Monday Sleepwalking

So I have these two kids. Girls ages 7 and 5 in first grade and pre-kindergarten, respectively. Normally I wake the girls in the morning and get them dressed and ready while TJ, my husband, wakes up, smokes a cigarette and takes them to school. This morning I wanted to stay in bed, so I told him we would switch roles.

Bad idea.

So the girls are dressed, I brush their hair, they get their socks and shoes on, and TJ tosses me the keys. I don't see a point in putting on clothes, so I walk them to the car in my housecoat. I get halfway to the car with them and tell them to get in the car while I run back in to grab a cigarette for the ride home. I rush back to the car, jump in, and head off to school. Adia (the first grader) and I are gabbing the whole way. We get on the street of the school and I say, "Bailey, you've been really quiet, are you still awake? Bailey? Bailey?" and turn around and she's not there. So I make a u-turn and rush back to the house to get her. She's happily playing with our puppy, Sadie. She told TJ that our car was stolen. He, of course, figured out what had happened.

I have no idea where she was when I was walking to the car. She wasn't in the street, I didn't pass her in the apartment, and she didn't see me leave.I finally got them to school without further incident, but damn if I'm going to be driving them ever again without checking first that they're both there. I must have been sleepwalking/driving.

Happy Mother's Day to Me!

I wake up to a beautiful mother's day card and gift from my husband and children. The card was the type that you record a saying and then it plays a song, in this case it was "Lean on Me," which I absolutely love. The gift wasn't half bad either, they bought me an HD handheld camcorder. I can't wait to have some new home movies! Then we had to head over to my sister in law's home to see my mother in law and father in law off. They left practically as soon as we got there. So, since it was 100 degrees outside (almost) we decided to go walk about the mall. I teased my husband a bit about not going to any "adult" stores, since his clothing retailers are the ones that also offer Twilight buttons and hair dye or wallets on chains next to the cash register. I think he is trying really hard to hold on to his youth, but doesn't want to admit yet that he has a problem. Then we come across a kioske that stops him dead in his tracks. It's hawking electronic "smoke anywhere" cigarettes. So we stop to hear the schpeel of the craftsman running the booth. We are impressed, even sampling one of them, but then we hear the price. You aren't getting one of those bad boys home unless you're willing to drop 175 bucks. So we say thank you and walk away. End of story, right? Wrong. We leave the mall, talk about how neat the smoke anywhere cigarettes were, stop for lunch, and the farther we get from the mall, the more sullen my husband becomes. In Target he couldn't even give me an intelligible opinion on toilet tissue. The man is 29 years old and can obsess to rival a teenage girl. We finally get home and he's not even talking to me anymore. He heads straight to the computer to read customer reviews of the cigarettes, which apparently only made him want them more. So finally I threw money at him, told him he had 20 minutes until the mall closed, and good luck to you. Now we'll see if he comes back happy so I can finally enjoy my mother's day.

Genesis

And so it begins. I have finally become narcissistic enough to begin my own blog in hopes that my dull life struggles will be of interest to the masses. So mass together army of bloggers and blog readers, pull closer to the computer, dim the lights around you, and get ready to dig into what (hopefully) will be an interesting journey into the depths of delicious ponderings of the conscience mind of a would-be commedianne, would-be writer, and new blogger. Most likely though, this will simply be my place to ramble about things that make my friends' eyes glaze over with boredom. Care to join me?