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

I'm not fat.

I'm not fat. It has taken me 10 years to say that and mean it. Ten years!  I could always use exercise, tone up my body a bit, but I'm not fat. Even when a little over a year ago, when physically I was in the best shape I had ever been in my life, I still thought I was fat. I am not sure why now, this month, this year, this day, I can honestly say to myself, and believe it, that I am not fat.
I have struggled with weight issues since the 8th grade. I was never fat then, but I truly, whole heartedly thought I was. If I couldn't see each one of my ribs, I was fat. When I got to college, if I wasn't less than 100 pounds, I was fat. I remember hitting 99 and be so damn proud of myself. I am not sure if I was a true anorexic. I ate. Some days more than others. I called myself a 'borderline anorexic'. I'm not sure if this is an actual term meaning something completely different, but I thought since I ate, I wasn't an anorexic, therefore, just on the border of becoming one. I think the lowest I ever got was 97 pounds. Funny thing is, no one really knew, and I'm not sure if anyone really noticed either (at no fault of their own). I hid it well.

I have also suffered from depression since 8th grade as well, but that's a whole other blog all in itself, and I'm not quite ready to let all the out.
Point is, I'm not fat. I am 5'5 (and three fourths) in height and 133 lbs. If I lose some weight, great, if I gain a little, okay. I will never be a size 2 again, I have hips damnit, and that's okay too.  I'm not fat.

I want to suck your blood!

I realized the my blood type is rare, if not the rarest blood type out there.  AB neg.  Kinda cool.  I made a comment to my husband that I need to go donate blood, and he said, no way, it's rare, you need what you got!  Okay, it made me laugh, but I guess you had to have been there.  Anyway, I have never given blood.  The one time I tried to, I was underweight (ahh, high school).  I know I meet the weight requirement now, and I'm pretty sure I meet all the other requirements as well.  So, why don't I just go give blood?  Well, to be honest I'm not sure where to go.   Also, I'm not scared of needles, but I am scared that I might have some freakish reaction and passout.  Ugh.  So don't want to do that.  Hopefully, within the years I am here on this planet I will muster up the courage to go give blood.  I'm sure someone out there could use it.

Santa Letters

My kiddos each wrote a letter to Santa. Well, Thing 2 had a bit of help from me, but she did manage to write most of her name :) I mailed them to the North Pole Canada. I had to explain to my son that since the real North Pole is so far away their letters may take months to get there. So, I continued, Santa set up a North Pole in Canada run by Santa's most trusted elves, a Special Operations team of sort. That way, the letters would only take about a week to get there, and Santa would definitely get word of what you want for Christmas. Luckily, my son was satisfied with this answer.


When I went to mail their letters, the postal worker asked me why I just don't email Santa. Seriously? Email? Hell, why email, I'll just tweet the jolly dude. I guess I am just old fashioned because I think that the whole part of writing a letter to Santa is using actual paper and pen, sealing the envelope, and hoping it reaches the North Pole in time. I loved watching my kids carefully pen each word, especially my son, who made sure each letter was perfect, each word spelled correctly, and a polite thank you added to the bottom of the page. My daughter loved telling me what to add to her list and made sure I was writing it all down, with nod and smile of satisfaction on her face. I can't see how typing an email to Santa would be fun. It is so impersonal. I don't think seeing the glow of the computer screen reflecting off their faces, pecking at each letter, using spell check, and hitting send, has that Christmassy spirit to it.  So, no emailing Santa for this family.

By the way, anyone know where to get a 'real giraffe' and an elf?

I thought...

...that I would be better at this whole blogging business.  I'm not.  Matter of fact, I suck at blogging.  I guess I don't see my life being too exciting, so I feel there is nothing worth really blogging about.  Let's see, business is good, visitors were welcomed, and family is great.  Yep, my life in a nutshell.

Hi, my name is...

What a Facebook Addiction Meeting would be like:

me:  Hi, my name is Susan.
group:  Hi Susan.
me:  I used to be a myspace user.  I would change my background, update my music, leave comments, but I wanted more.  Then I heard about facebook. 
group:  ohhhh
me:  All my friends had an account, and I thought, why not give it a try.  At first, I wasn't impressed.  I didn't like not being able to personalize my page.  But then, I discovered games and the ability to 'poke' people.  I developed a feeling that I was interactioning with friends I haven't seen in years.  I was now joining their mafia, lending a hand on their farm, and pledging in their sorority. 
group:  Mmmhhmm...
me:  Now, I have to have my facebook. I have to update my status.  I have to let my friends know that I went to the gym, came home, ate dinner, and then went to sleep.  I have to help my mafia fight, fertilize my fellow farmers' crops, and organize an event to impress my sorority.
group:  We know, girl, we know. (all nodding their heads in agreement)
me:  So, that is why I am here tonight.  I have a facebook addiction.  I need help.
group:  (still nodding in agreement)

Run Run Run

As of today, I am officially running again.  I hope to run in (at least) a 5k race no later than December of this year.  It is so hard to get back into running!  The last time I did any major running was in May for the Mudrun.
So, I checked out Runners World online and printed out a training guide for my goal.  Today was an easy run.  I was supposed to run two miles at a 13:27 pace.  Well, I ran my easy run at a 12:00 pace.  Yes, I am saying it took me 12mins. to run a mile, but damnit I ran that mile non stop!  The second mile involved short sprints and walking.  I spent a total of 45 mins. on the treadmill today, and if you don't know, I HATE TREADMILLS!  So this is quite the accomplishment.  Tomorrow is my cross training day, so weight training here I come.  Anyway, I am sore, but I LOVE IT!  Exercise really does get me out of my dumpy moods.
Happy Running All!

*I want to say a big THANK YOU to my cousin Amy for inspiring to get off my fat ass and pick up running again*

Challenge continues...

I am attempting to take up running again--thank you Amy.  It is so difficult to start all over again.  I wasn't fast by any means, but damnit I could do an 8K no problem.  Now I can barely make it a quarter of a mile without feeling I am going to pass out.  Everyone has to start somewhere, so, a quick run to the corner of the street and back doesn't look so bad.

Flash!

Okay Mandy, this one's for you.
I purchased an external flash.  A 430EX II to be exact.  It was cheaper than the 580EX, and I think it is going to be a good fit for me to get started on using an external flash.  I am still struggling a bit in all the photography jargon, but I am getting it.  So, Mandy, I know this post is short, but I wanted to let you know that I am taking on your challenge and hope to blog more soon about it!

Challenge Me

My life has hit a bit of a snag.  I am living too much in my comfort zone, and I need to creep on out.  So, folks, here's what I need you to do for me.  Challenge me.  Challenge me to run a mile, commit a good deed, write a 100 page story, anything!  Well, almost anything--I'm not eating insects and where in the world am I going to get a hippo on such short notice.  Anyway, think about it, comment, and I will do my best to take on the challenge, and blog about the experience.  I am putting my life (well, some of it at least) in your hands.

Ants update

Cinammon and baby powder combined have led to the demise of the ants.  So far, that is.

Attack of the HellPaso Ants!

There has been an invasion of ants in our children's bathroom.  Why their bathroom?  Is it the crusted piss on the side of the toliet, the toothpaste that inhabits the sink, the puddle of water and soap that develops behind the faucet, or the dirty clothes piled in the laundry basket?  Oh what a life an ant must live if these things sound appealing!  Alas, my efforts of covering them in baby powder and scattering bay leaves has failed me.  I am now left with an eco-friendly bathroom cleaner in hand and my index finger to kill off these little nuisances.  Pest control has graced us with their present a number of times, and yet they too have failed.  I think I am going to have to bring in the big guns...real poison.  There I said it.  Those tiny incects, who think they are so high and mighty because they can lift ten to fifty times their own weight, well, their days are numbered.  It's the final countdown, baby!

sleepy time

wow, i suck at this blog thing.  i need to keep it fresh, keep it real *insert double time chest fist hit*  not tonight.  tonight i am sleeping.  and damnit, i better not have to get out of bed at 3:50am, follow my daughter who is leading me in the dark by the fluff of her hair, and then curl into a fetal position at the end of her bed, only to wake at 5:00am when my husband escorts me back to our bedroom.  then of course the the little beast comes to join me, and we wake up by 6:45am.  one really can't catch up on sleep, can they?


side note: the beast is what  i affectionately call my daughter because when she wakes up her hair is crazy messy and her attitude isn't all that grand either.

Do you smell bacon?

I'm driving down the street, stop briefly at a crosswalk to let a pedestrian go by, and notice the MP parked in the median. I look at my speedometer and think, "hey, I'm actually going speed limit (15mph)," and watch two cars in front of me speed away. I check out my rearview mirror noticing police lights. I am pulled over. Why? I had no idea at the time. The SPC approaches my car, asks for my license, military ID, and my insurance. Our conversation: Why am I being pulled over? I need your license and ID. Why did I get pulled over? Ma'am, I need your license and ID. I get it, but can you tell me why I was pulled over. Once you give me your license and ID, I'll tell you. (so I hand him over what he is asking for) You were speeding. Then he walks off.

What the fuck? I was speeding? Seriously? There was NO way I was speeding. I am completely in shock. First off, I just stopped at the crosswalk, and there is no way that my vehicle can reach a speed considered speeding in such a short amount of time. Second, my speedometer is three mph off, so that would mean I would have to have been going 26 in a 15! Third, there were two other cars speeding away in front of me.

So, he walks back to my car, starts explaining to me what I have to do while looking at the paper. So, I ask him why can't he look at me in the eyes when he talks to me--yep, I did. He says something along the line of I am reading the paper to you. Wow, does he really not know what that ticket says? By the way, the whole time he has his sunglasses on--mind you it is NOT sunny outside but in fact quite cloudy. Anyway, I mention the other cars in front of me and how I had just stopped and there was no way I could have accelerated to the speed he was accusing me of. He tells me I can contest it in court, and have a nice day. Then walks away.

I can truly tell you that I was not speeding. It is a school zone! I am a stickler for school zones. I know not to speed. I know MPs are parked throughout. I know that my speedometer read 15. I am not that stupid to speed up in front of a fucking MP. I am so pissed about the ticket. I will definitely be in court in December fighting this ticket.  Damn pigs.