Archive from October, 2012

I wasn’t going to post this…..

I wasn’t going to post anything, actually.

I have a lot of paintings to get out this week and I have so much work to do.  The (too stupid to whine about) problem I have is that I can’t do the work while the boys are awake.  First of all, we don’t have a table, so anything I do has to be done on the floor and the boys want their greasy mits involved.

But I never predicted how loud this work would be.  I try to wait until they’re in a deep sleep before I whip out the staple gun.

Tonight went a little like this.

(thats the coffee table, by the way…)

 

 

As if I can’t hear him.

Arg! So I get everyone settled and move on to packing things up.

 

It doesn’t matter how slowly you pull the tape or how many blankets you’re hiding under.  Packing tape is OBSCENELY loud.

Who designed that? Who decided packing tape would sound like somebody stabbing a bag of cats with a fork.  Who was the decider there?

 

 

Anyway, I put all that aside and started looking through the pictures on my phone.

As much as I like to be Whiny McWhinypants about my boys, man I love them.

 

One of my biggest desires as a shaper and influencer of their little hearts is to teach them kindness.  TO EACH OTHER!

If you can learn to show kindness to the one person you want to punch in the head on a  daily hourly basis, then it will be even easier with the rest of the world.

 

Not to say there aren’t daily hourly punchings and toy swipings and tattlings and general passive aggressive annoyances.

But every once in a while they really bust out the tenderness.

 

And man, that melts my heart.

Sometimes I Feel Like a Motherless Blog

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

So I’ve started several blog posts in the past few weeks that I haven’t been able to finish because of time.

Waaa.  (Poor me.  Somebody call a Waaambulance)

The first post was for my Step-Father-Figure’s 70th Bday!  From here on out I shall refer to him as Victory 2010.

That guy is a riot to have around.  I could  sit there and listen to him talk all day.  He is the red-neck to my mothers yogurt-hippie.  He might be from Tiny-Town, Texas, but that guy has an interest in ALL THE THINGS.

My favorite is hearing The Discovery Channel as narrated by Victory 2010.

 

Happy Birthday Victory 2010!!

A couple weeks back I was having a reflective moment where I looked at some other blogs, like Leauxra’s (her tablet drawings blow my mind!), and Gweenbrick’s (his life in the most genuinely ironic that I’ve ever seen. He should be discussing poetry with mental giants instead of wiping the poop from grown bottoms in an institution.)

I wanted to DRAW SOMETHING REAL.  SAY SOMETHING REAL.

I was thinking about Africa.  The sunsets right on the beach by our cottage.

 

I was remembering the first day I took a long walk on the southern tip of a continent where I knew not a single person.

 

I was walking in a land where places like Darfur happen.  Somalia.  Rwanda.  The Congo.

 

Then I thought even further back to Chicago…..

 

Aaaaaannnnnd thats where I discovered a whole new set of brushes in my drawing program.

 

Sorry. I go downhill real fast.

In other news, I painted some acorns.

Don’t take this nut-display lightly.

It was a mixed martial arts fight just trying to get them back into the house.

And thats all I have.  Good night.

I’ve Got the Moves Like Jaggar

“Verbally”, that is.  And we might as well add “mentally”.

I have mental moves that would bring shock and awe to those around me.

But I guess y’all know all about that.

 

 

Just last month I dished it out for my sister-in-law.

 

Her name isn’t Tina but both my boys call her that.

 

But those are my usual slip-ups.  I have a great filter on my mouth otherwise.  In fact, I have over-filtered issues…

 

I literally cannot stand for an innocent person to have their feewings hurt…

 

…and even the not-so-innocent people deserve mercy and IT CAN’T ALL BE ABOUT ME.  I need to tattoo that somewhere.  Maybe on everyone I see on a regular basis (for me, not you).  Somewhere obvious where I can see it and be reminded. Foreheads are good.

 

But there was once a time….

I can hardly think of these specific thirty seconds without pain in my heart.

It was in the suburbs of Chicago.  4th of July.  We were chilling with friends.  These weren’t our usual group of friends so we didn’t know them that well, but we enjoyed them.  All us women-folk were sitting out in the yard cramming. My best friend eBirdie, was in the house piling enormous gobs of cake on her plate (haha).  I was sitting there alone with a very quiet group.

Unfortunately, every once in a while, when the planets are just right, and I’m in a quiet, uncomfortable-for-me situation, the dam bursts and I just can’t shut my pie-hole.

Its like a nervous tick that only manifests itself once every 7-and-a-half years.

These were NICE girls though and they totally tolerated me.  In fact, the one next to me was the grand-daughter of Mother Theresa.  Or she might as well have been.  Greatness ran in her family and she was uber-precious.  I didn’t know her at all….

 

Eventually my sass-flaps ran out of nonsense to spew.

 

 

And while I was cramming fruit into my face, the nice girl’s baby started to sneeze.

 

And it was juiciest, slobberyest, sprayiest sneeze you’ve ever heard.

 

And the baby-head kept at it for a good minute.

 

And the spray was far-reaching.  Why nobody was reacting was beyond me.  That made things very hard for my nervous brains.

 

And I just couldn’t stop laughing unless I started making words out loud.

 

I thought it was witty.

 

Who can’t have a sense of humor about their babies nasty habits?

 

But man, I was getting nothing from the audience.  A little of this….

 

…and a little of that….

 

Talk about crash and burn!

 

But then I looked at the face of the mama.

 

And she had the hurt feelings.

Mainly because…

 

Someone.  Help.

Please help.

Just shoot me in the head with a big bag of sugar.

That would be a good enough way to go.

 

I was longing for an enormous pink school bus to come careening around the corner and take down a tree or two.

Where are your distractors when you need them?

 

I had to think MUCH FASTER than I am accustomed to thinking.   I decided my safest route would be the “unfazed teaser” route.

 

 

And it started working…..

 

Oh thank you Mother Theresa.

 

And then things just went back to normal, except my psyche, which is forever scarred.

Is you Is, or Is You Ain’t a Lady?

I haven’t talked too much about my time in Glen Ellyn (a beautiful, WEALTHY suburb of Chicago).

Hills. Hundred-year-old homes. Trees.  A great little downtown area.

 

I worked for a British woman named Jane at tiddlywinks & scallywags.  She designed girl’s clothes and I set up shop.

 

We worked great together in that we were creative in different areas, and we worked horribly together in that neither of us wanted to deal with people.

 

I also worked for Melissa.  Girlfriend cray.

We’re absolute polar opposites and I appreciate that about her.  Man does she have a personality on her….

 

And then there was Michael.  He owned Cottage Gardens, a totally gnarly garden shop.  It. Was. Spectacular.  I think it was an old meat-packing plant.  High brick walls.  A giant glass domes ceiling.  Fountains.  Trees. Plants.  Michael could be one of my brothers. We’re practically twins.

 

Anyway, Michael opened a second shop called Florae (totally industrial concrete and glass flower shop) and I used to work it.

I worked HARD on those flowers.  Such grueling labor!

Really it would have been great, but I learned that 75% of people who want flowers are total jackwagons.

One customer in particular was NOT like that.  His name was Carl and he’d come in regularly.

 

He was in his 60’s and wealthy.  Had a bit of the Bruce Jenner thing goin on with the plastic surgery…..

 

His face just didn’t fit him if you know what I mean.  And it was so drastic that people stared which made me want to punch them in the neck.  Or maybe its just because they were all jerks buying flowers….

Anyway, Carl would stay and talk and bla bla bla. I liked the guy.

But one day I was working by myself in the store.  Scrubbing the floors probably….

 

…when an older, nervous-looking woman walked in.

 

It took me about .00002 seconds to realize……

 

…that this woman was Carl.

 

And another 1.32 seconds to think a bunch of weird stuff….

 

And then I had to abandon that thought process in order to decide what on earth to say.

 

Man, I had no warning!  Give a girl some warning will you?!

Should I say “Congratulations!” Or nonchalantly act like I don’t know who he/she is?!?!?

 

But man it had been like 4 seconds since she spoke to me and I was starting to look stupid.  I was finally all….

 

And I decided that J would D love.  So I hugged her/him and told her/him how great her/his hair looked and then she/he proceeded to tell me about the 10 years of surgery he/she had gone through and how she’d/he’d lost friends and sometimes he/she would curl up in a ball and cry.

Just about broke my heart.  Not that he/she had switched seriously valuable reproductive tools, but that anyone would have to go through their life with the kind of angst that would make them go through years of pain and public ridicule just to MAYBE be comfortable in their own skin.

I have to say that as soon as I got a good look at her, her face made sense.  She was dressed modestly and didn’t have gobs of makeup on. She looked naturalish.

And she was still totally my favorite customer.

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