It's been a while.

Clearly, I am not a big time blogger.  I think I just felt the need to jump on the blogging bandwagon, completely forgetting that one must blog to do so. 
Anyway, hope all are well.  My life has been quite wonderful with all the twists and turns, ups and downs that my family has encountered during this year.  Good news is that we are all doing fantastic.  I'll try to blog more so my fourteen wonderful followers have something to read.

Goodbye 2010

2010, well, what can I say, you've been good to me for the most part.  Though two deaths within the year left me a bit shellshock, I managed to grieve and move on.  So, so long 2010. 

My son: He's some kind of wonderful

My seven-year-old son and I had had a rough day on Sunday.  We both ended up in tears, and decided no more yelling and no more bad attitudes.  On Tuesday he cut up some strips of papers, and kept bugging me about how to spell certain words.  I was a bit annoyed by this because he's asking me while I was trying to wash the dishes and experiencing a headache from hell.  He finishes up his writing, goes to his room and spends some time doing whatever.  [side note, he has nothing in his room; he lost all his toys, games, TV, everything due to his bad attitude.  All he has is his kid sized recliner chair for any entertainment purposes]  He asks me to come to his room when I finish, which I do.  In his room he had created a throne for me, hanging two corn necklaces as decorations, snatched two of my books, and also created 'grass' by coloring a piece of paper green.  Next to my throne is his laundry bag, emptied of clothes, and refilled with these strips of paper that the had been working on.  He said they were my fortunes.  I thanked him for my, throne, and he insists I pick a fortune.  So, I reach in the bag and pull out a fortune and it reads "You are fun."  I can't help but smile.  I have the most amazing son in the world.  I am so lucky to have him.  He truly is some kind of wonderful.  By the way, today's fortune said, "I love you."

I'm pissed...

I'm pissed that I have to do the fucking dishes.
I'm pissed that I have no money.
I'm pissed that even if I tried to get a job, I can't get more than flipping burgers, even though I have a damn college degree.
I'm pissed that my husband can't wash the one fucking pan that I wanted him to wash.
I'm pissed that stupid Bieber is on CSI.
I'm pissed that I missed almost my daughter's entire soccer game looking for a fucking key that fell off my husband's key chain.
I'm pissed that I didn't find the damn key.
I'm pissed that lately the only thing that keeps me from being bored out of my fucking mind is organizing the school library.
I'm pissed that even after I write this blog, I'm still going to be pissed.
I'm pissed she was murdered.
I'm pissed that I can' t go to her funeral.
I'm pissed that...

Happenings

Well, I was not hired on as a second photographer, due to my (lack of) "creativity level."  Sigh. 
So, this week I will be registering to begin NYIP courses in professional photography.  I hope this will jump start my career as a photographer.  Scared shitless.

AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH

Okay, I had to get that out.  I'm freaking out a bit because on Saturday I am working as an 'intern' for a possible position as a second photographer.  This would be a great opportunity for me, and I would love to learn more about the business.  If I don't get this position, I am really considering taking the next step with my own photography business.  To be honest, that first step to making a true career out of being a photographer scares the hell out of me.  There are so many what ifs.  So, until Saturday....

By the way, this image I took is why I love what I do. Such happiness.  Such love.

Brawny Man

Dear Brawny Lumberjack,

What has become of you? I enjoyed the rugged woodsman look you once had, with your groomed mustache, 1970s flare, and top button open leaving us to believe you were ripped under that shirt. I was convinced that Brawny paper towels were truly '"The strength to get things done." But now, look at you. You have become a metro sexual, looking more like a lumberjack with a log up his ass. Your goofy grin says to me, "Hey, look how super soft our paper towels are, perfect for my delicate skin." You now wear an undershirt and have more concern for you looks than your product. All I can say is "When did it all go wrong, Mr. Brawny Man, when?"

Please go back to your old look. And for the love of all things good, stop trying to sing.

Sincerely,

A concerned customer