Ten things Tuesday!

1. I love to bake, my specialty is cheesecake.

2. I was a big band geek in HS and College.

3. I have quite a collection of pens, pencils, markers. Seems like I can never leave the office supply store without one or two.

4. Blue is my favorite color.

5. Someday I want to own a 1972 Corvette Stingray.

6. Receiving flowers for no reason is the best reason.

7. I am strangely particular about paper plates.

8. I love to buy presents for people. The best ones are when there is no occasion, but you've found something you just know they will love.

9. Our computer is over 7 years old, we could really use a new one.

10. I love purses and have too many to count, though I usually only rotate about 5 or so. My blue Coach optic signature one is my current fave.

Titles aren't my thing.

I am not normal. Strange, uncontrollable things cause me drama and worry. I'm very good at drama and worry. Too good. Once my mind gets going about something, I have a hard time pulling it back, even though I know I'm being irrational and ridiculous. Late last week, I had to leave early to be at a meeting 2 1/2 hours from home. Of course, I woke up every hour fearing I would oversleep. Then, as I get ready I start the cycle of ridiculous. Better pick this up, what if your car breaks down or you get into an accident and someone has to come over to let the dog out and see what a slob you are...they get worse, the thoughts in my head, but I won't write them down (in fear of them coming true, yes.) Anyway...this is how you end up scrubbing the toilet with a toothbrush hanging out of your mouth. Not normal. But for the record, I felt better leaving knowing the toilet was clean.

Last night I spent the evening watching the SAG awards and the red carpet hoopla before. I love to watch award shows, love to look at the pretty dresses and how pretty and wow and WTF was SHE thinking. It's a guilty pleasure. Funny how I totally forgot they were on, til Mr. Snob turned on the red carpet thing at 6, already knowing I'd want to watch. He's the best, I tell you. I am not a gossip columnist by any stretch of the imagination, but am sort of a gossip, so I'll give you a few of my thoughts about last night's awards.

Ellen Pompeo - ick. Hair, dress...all of it ick. So sad.
Sandra Oh - Fantastic
Katherine Heigl - Love you and your dress, but the hair? Not so much.
America Ferrera - you are so pretty. Normal, yet beautiful.
Julie Andrews - you looked amazing. Simply amazing. Though your husband isn't aging well.
Vanessa Williams - redeemed yourself after the Golden Globe dress/hair monstrosity.

I should quit, probably, before my glass house shatters from all the stones I'm throwing.

Booger's been sick this weekend. Which breaks my heart, but I do really love the extra snuggling time. She seems to be bouncing back, must have just been a bad cold. Let's hope.

Have a great week, my friends.

Confession

My house smells like ass. And hairspray. And chocolate cake. All at the same time.

I'll work backwards in order to try to provide reasons....backwards as the chocolate cake is the easiest to explain. I'm making a chocolate cake. My mom bought me this rockin' set of cake pans for my birthday. They have recessed areas so that when you bake them, you can stuff them, put them on top of each other and have stuffed cake. There really aren't many things in this world better than stuffed cake. Today, I'm stuffing the cake with vanilla ice cream. Chocolate cake, vanilla ice cream stuffing, cream cheese frosting. OH, man. I think I might have just wet my pants a little.

On to the hairspray. I've always been a bit of a hairspray whore. It gets really bad when I need a haircut, like now, and I go a bit crazy with my battle of the frizz by shellacking the hell out of my hair.

Now, the ass. I am sure hoping that the smell is just the by-product of unopened windows, dog, kid, us, enough dirty laundry to clothe all of Belize and not, you know, some dead animal under the house. I'm just saying. I don't really notice when I'm here all day, but if I leave and come back....eww. Called my sister to see if I can swipe the air cleaner my mom gave her. Maybe that will help. The laundry, you say? Clean laundry would help the smell? Hmmm...I'll keep that in mind.

Tuesday's Ten Things

1. Sometimes a good cry is all it takes.

2. I am stuck in the cycle of "too tired to exercise, but need to exercise to not be tired." Tonight - I'm on the treadmill, I promise.

3. I love to banter with my friends about politics.

4. My eyes vary in color depending on my mood.

5. I never seem to pick the right shade of lipstick and have probably 20 various colors in the drawer.

6. I still have a monitor in Booger's room and have trouble sleeping without listening to it. I often wonder when I will be able to stop. Hopefully before she's 13, right?

7. I was prescribed Vicoden once and never took it because I was afraid of becoming addicted.

8. My left thumb has been broken twice.

9. My toenails are always painted.

10. This week I finally purchased Season 7 of The West Wing...my Aaron Sorkin Collection is almost complete....I have Sports Night, West Wing, and American President. I need A Few Good Men and Malice and I'll be all set!

Attention Kroger Shoppers, spil in aisle 4 (or, you know, the parking lot)

Dear guy at Kroger,

Hey, you! You the one in the parking lot at the grocery store yesterday afternoon. I hope all of your hair falls out and that your shoelace comes untied and you trip and fall on your face. In front of the President, or the Pope, or Eva Longoria. That's how much I appreciate you. You saw me as I carried 3 bags of groceries and a 12 pack of Diet Coke out to my car. Yes, I am stubborn and didn't bring the cart. But I only had a gallon of milk, a loaf of bread, some turkey for a sandwich and my sweet blessed Diet Coke. You watched as the Diet Coke 12 pack packaging split and all 12 Diet Coke cans scattered like dandelion puffs. You saw. And you watched. And then....then you put your hands in your pockets, looked down at your shoes and walked right on by. You are a jerk and I hope Karma comes back to bite you in your ass.

Sincerely,

Grammar Snob

[I just realized this is my second angry letter in only a few weeks. Somehow they make me feel better, so you may see more of them.]

Ten Things Tuesday

Okay, I'm caving. Two of my Internet Friends do this thing - Ten Things Tuesday. Each Tuesday brings a list of fun little facts about them. I'm addicted to reading their lists. And, well, I do love to make lists, so I will join the party. The list is in no particular order and will have varying levels of seriousness, but I promise it will all be true.

1. My favorite number is 13 and it's because I have mad love for Dan Marino.

2. I can type about 80 words per minute.

3. I have seen Phantom of the Opera live 4 times and in 2 different countries.

4. I am not overweight, I am undertall.

5. Recently taking off my acrylic nails after YEARS of having them has started me biting my nails again....my worst and grossest habit ever. I'll try to get some self-manicure stuff to see if I can salvage them.

6. While I'm working, I listen to ESPN Radio.

7. I love to write letters.

8. My i-pod brings me more joy than I ever EVER thought it could.

9. Nothing better than listening to the rain while reading a book.

10. I have never lived more than 40 miles from where I was born.

Someone please 'splain it to me....

The never ending drama and angst-fest here in Snobville has prevented me from updating much. Mom's a bit better every day. She still can't see well enough to drive, but can see well enough to tell me I'm an even worse driver than my dad. This is the ultimate insult as he's never made a proper in-vehicle maneuver ever (in her humble opinion.)

Mr. Snob's uncle is very ill and likely to give up his fight this week. Mr. Snob and his sister (and her husband) drove to NJ to see him this past weekend. About a 8-9 hour drive plus gas and tolls, etc. They had a wonderful visit (well, as wonderful as you can under the circumstances), but would really like to return for the funeral, when the time comes. I would prefer to attend as well, as the daughter-in-law-who-doesn't-really-fit-in, I would like to show them that I care and have much love for the family and all that. This weekend, I remained here with Booger and my 3 nieces as a 9 hour each way car trip, then sitting in Hospice for hours and hours isn't exactly the idea of fun for 4 girls ranging in age from 5 to 15. I know that staying here and caring for them was my way of helping the family, but I still feel like I should do more.

Anyway - to the title of the post. I've been researching other methods of getting to NJ this coming weekend (just in case - knock on wood - and all that). It seems that in order to fly from Detroit (a metropolitan area with a big ol' airline hub and everything) to Newark, I need to go to Chicago first. This would still be less travel time than driving, so I would agree to do so. Except wait - it's $455. Each. Yeah, no thanks. Thought about Amtrak. Have to go to NYC first, then to Newark, but the total trip takes FIFTEEN HOURS. And costs about $300. So, no. I just don't understand why these things are so strangely routed and so damn costly. So. Damn. Costly. Gas is down to $1.87/gallon this morning, so I can't really agree that it's gas prices. I might pay $455 for a trip somewhere sunny where they serve drinks with umbrellas, but not to go to NJ in the winter.

So, if we go, we'll probably drive. And logic says I'll stay home again with the kids again. I just hope that the family understands it's my way of helping.

So

Within the course of the last month or so, I've had no less than three people tell me I should write a book. Or, at minimum, a column, piece or short story. I'm completely shocked by this and overwhelmed with their enthusiasm. I love to write and have dreamed about doing so since I was a child. One of my very favorite heirlooms I passed on to Booger is a book I wrote when I was in elementary school. It was for my accelerated creative writing class (yes, GEEK, I know). We were provided a blank hardcover book to compose, hand write AND illustrate a short story. Betsie and Her Trip To Rainbowland sits proudly on Booger's bookshelf and she can tell you that I wrote it. I am very proud of it, though I have always hated the fact that we had to hand write it and couldn't type it. Looking back, OCD came at me pretty early!

I've been thinking that I might want to dabble around to see what I can come up with. I might start a separate blog to keep track of my writing in a way that I can flit around on different topics, different stories, etc. I would much prefer hand writing, and may do so....but I can actually type much faster than I can write, so the hand written stuff might be less productive.

I don't know...I never really thought I'd have the attention span for a novel, but I might be able to swing a short story. We shall see.

Progress!

I managed to get at least 3 days worth of projects done today and am so pleased with myself! All the Christmas decor is back in the garage, some furniture's been rearranged, lots of dusting, and some vacuuming. Man, I can not tell you how good it feels. A few things still on the list to organize include the closet-under-the-stairs, the coat closet, MY closet, and that's just the beginning.

We're prepping the house to be sold so that we can build a new one. Yes, you read that correctly, though I will not be the one building it, I assure you. I'll be the one in the corner crying because I can't decide on drawer pulls and towel racks. The reason we are moving is to get to a better public school system. We have plenty of really good private/Catholic schools in our area, but Toledo Public Schools are phenomenally poor. I am a big advocate for public schools and would rather hassle around to get a house in a better school district and pay the taxes than the tuition. But I'm funny like that. Meanwhile, it will be fun for all of you to watch as we decide on floor plans, colors, etc.

I'm feeling very motivated - Mom's doing a little better each day and my buddy, Organic Mama is rocking her manuscript! Go show her some love, would you?

Bliss

5 o'clock on a Friday evening.

Husband and Booger having dinner at in-laws - house is beautifully silent.

Sweatpants: check.
Sportsbra (no underwire): check.
Comfy stretched out long sleeved tee shirt: check.
Homemade pizza with extra cheese heating in oven: check.
Work stuff turned off: check.
Copy of Wicked and warm snuggly blanket waiting in recliner: check.

Have a great night, my friends. I'm going to relax!

Home again, naturally

Mom's coming home today! Though she's still not better. Her vision might clear on it's own whenever the hell it feels like it, or it might never clear. So, now we wait. I'm just not very good at waiting, but you probably already knew that. I'm grateful it's not life threatening, just annoying as shit and also....no. No, I will not get sucked into the spiral of what-if's. I will stay up here in the Land of Positive Thinking. Which means I have to fret secretly. Perfect. This could be good, actually.

I've always dealt with stress and angst by cleaning. I LOVE things to be clean, but I don't normally NEED them to be, you know? I'm not really talking dirt, more like clutter. The house is always clean, just messy...does that even make sense? Anyway - when I'm stressing about things I clean. And clean. And do things I do not normally do. Like make the bed. I never make the bed, just seems like wasted time when you're just going to mess it up again. The bed's been made three days straight. I've washed so many dishes, including some that weren't even dirty. The teapot, for example, hadn't been used, but was sitting on the stove, which was dirty, so therefore the teapot was dirty by osmosis. (sorry for the commas) All of my laundry has been put away. In drawers and in closets. This, too, is something I don't do. I live out of laundry baskets because I HATE putting laundry away. Hate. I think that by cleaning, I'm looking of the calm that comes with a clean/clutter free house. Since internally I am not calm, if the house is clean it is calm and maybe somehow, just somehow some of that calm will rub off on me.

So, maybe stressing right now is a good thing - at least the house will be clean.

I'm rambling and I apologize - too much caffeine, not enough sleep. Mom's okay and will *hopefully* improve daily. There is nothing I can do except hope. So I will.

Quick Update

Just got back from my morning visit with Mom. Met with the Neurologist (who, sadly, looks nothing like Patrick Dempsey) and he thinks she probably had a stroke. She's meeting with a neuro ophthalmologist this afternoon for some more testing. Stroke's at the top of the list but there are a few other things it might be. I'm trying very hard to not freak. Your encouraging thoughts have helped more than I can say.

If it's not one thing it's seventeen others

My mom is in the hospital. It's probably nothing more than a minor concussion which is causing some vision problems.

But, after 3 days of rampant Mother/Daughter bickering, I am feeling so terrible and guilty and terribly guilty.

I just got back from the hospital and figured I would do some research on her symptoms. This was not such a good idea. Damn the internet for making it so easy for me to freak out. While I'm a big believer in "Knowledge is Power", right now I'm thinking I should just wait to let the Neurologists tell me what's wrong instead of relying on Dr. Google. Also, I asked at the hospital and Dr. McDreamy does not make rounds there, so that option is out.

I'll keep you posted. Think good things for me, okay?