Curling up in the Kitchen

Yesterday I had one of those days where you come home feeling like pureed jello.  It's been a fun week, but my club's Top Turkey fundraiser has eaten up all of my prep periods, and has been a lot of work.  During seventh period I was counting down the minutes until work was over...I felt so mentally drained.  On my [ridiculously short] drive home, I kept imagining how great it would be to plop down on my couch with a cup of Earl Grey and watch some mindless TV.  But when I entered my house, said-couch wasn't there.  I followed it's trail to this location:

Yep, that's my couch.  In the kitchen.  Clint had taken another day off to do some more work on the floors, and he made amazing progress, but not without a few inconvenient side-effects.  With nothing better to do (TV was unplugged and crammed on dining room table), I posted the following status on facebook:

My living room migrated a little. It's all good though, cuz now if I get thirsty, it's a mere arm's reach to the sink. And if I get cold, I can just turn on the oven.

I did still enjoy my cup of tea.  And the fluorescents provided great lighting to chill with a book.

Today the living room is back to normal, which is sort of nice because if I decide to take a little cat nap, I no longer have to curl up between the dishwasher and stove.  I'll post pics this weekend, once we have all of the trim back on the walls.

Pointless Housekeeping

Today I came home from work and got a major itch to clean, which is really bad timing since our house is torn apart due to floor-installation.  Right now our living room is about a third done, and all of our furniture is crammed on one side of the room, half-blocking the kitchen (you should see how snug I am right now, nestled with my laptop in-between a couch, coffee table, and shelf unit).  So I told Clint that while he was at the dojo tonight, I was going to clean the house.  He laughed and pointed out the futility of such an endeavor, but I didn't really care.  When I get this sort of craving to clean, it's usually because I'm dealing with stuff at work that seem so never-ending and insurmountable that I just need the feeling of starting and completing simple tasks.  It's a sort of therapy.  So as soon as Clint and the kids left, I blasted the music and did the dishes, cleaned the counters, swept the floors, cleaned up our faux livingroom, lit some candles, and did some laundry.  I even arranged the crammed furniture so it resembles a miniature living room...like the kind of display you see in the gallery of Living Spaces, or Ashley's Furniture in those moments where they don't have a semi-truck protruding through their front entrance.  Now I'm sitting here in the middle of my clean house, trying not to laugh (or cry) at the fact that after all of my effort, there's still a tile saw in my living room, heaps of wood piled against the walls, a mountain of furniture crammed in front of the kitchen, and concrete under my feet.  Oh well.  I feel accomplished.

I was going to write more, but now I'm not (profound, I know).

11/11/11

Okay, I know I've already blogged enough for one weekend, but I'm trapped in the ketchup and mustard room for an hour because Clint's watching "Grimm" in the living room, and I can't watch it.  I'm a huge baby.  I got through the first minute of it, but once the girl started shrieking in the background because she was being tortured by whatever wolf-creature whisked her away, my stomach started rolling and I had to get out of the room.

Change of subject.  I'm currently reading Crossed by Ally Condie (sequel to Matched), and I am really enjoying it so far.  It is completely different from the first novel.  Matched was more light-hearted, shallow (in a cute way) and teen-agery, although it did get heavier towards the end.  But this one dives much deeper into the characters' pasts, and their current motives.   It's not that the story is incredibly riveting or action-packed...in fact, much of it is slower-paced.  But it's thought-provoking and intriguing.  Unrequited love in a tolitarian society just makes for a beautiful story.  And considering that the novel is geared toward the young adult audience, I'm surprised by how many quotes from the book come across as pure poetry.  Take these, for example:

And it is strange that absence can feel like presence.  A missing so complete that if it were to go away, I would turn around, stunned, to see that the room is empty after all...

The picture frightened me and thrilled me in some vague way--the sky was so spectacular, the land so beautiful and dangerous, so full of heights and depths.  I was afraid of the vastness of a place like that.  At the same time, I felt sorrow that I would never see it.

Because in the end you can't always choose what to keep.  You can only choose how you let it go.

This next one is a little bit more than just one little quote.  It's a conversation between the male protaganist and a smaller child, both who are fleeing from the society:

"Do you know how to paint?"  Eli asks.
"A little."
"How?"
"My mother taught herself, and then she taught me," I say.  "My father used to come here and trade with the farmers.  Once, he brought a paintbrush back for her.  A real one.  But he couldn't afford any paint.  He always meant to get her some but never did."
"Then she couldn't paint," Eli says, sounding disappointed.
"No, she could.  She used water on rock.  Her paintings always vanished in the air."
"Then how did you know what they looked like?" Eli asks.
"I saw them before they dried," I say.  "They were beautiful."

I love that conversation.  Love love love it.  But I really don't know why.  I'll have to get back to you on that one.

Oh my gosh, it's 11:11 at night!  I have to post this right NOW so I can officially have a blog entry at 11:11, on 11/11/11 (yes, I realize my life is sad if I get off on ten "1s" in a row).

Living on Concrete

Today has been a huge improvement upon yesterday.  It was awesome waking up this morning with a three day weekend to look forward to.  And honestly, yesterday wasn't terrible, although I know it may have come across that way.  I was just being your typical over-emotional female, but I'm over it now.  Work was crazy-busy, mainly because I'm losing all of my prep periods due to the Top Turkey competition.  We also had a renaissance rally, which always adds chaos to an otherwise normal day.  I was part of a "flash mob," in which we surprised the students with a short dance.  It was only about a minute long, but it was pretty funny.  My students couldn't believe it when their own teacher was suddenly in a crowd of thirty people, doing a synchronized dance (we rehearsed it the week before).  It was like being in a scene from a bad musical.    

Last night we went over to Becky's house for small group and had our usual fun.  Becky made a delicious potato cheese soup that has me feeling inspired to try cooking up some soups myself.  I absolutely love soup in winter--I literally crave it every day.  That and hot tea.  Clint's sister (Moo) bought me some cinnamon tea for my birthday--the really good stuff--and it is so delicious.  Soup, hot tea, and bubble baths...those are the things about winter I love the most.  Well that, and Christmas.

Today I got to see Jewls!  It was very last minute.  Jewls had texted me yesterday letting me know that she was going to be in the desert, and wanted to know if I wanted to meet up with her.  Unfortunately I didn't have my phone on me and didn't get her message until late this morning, but we still managed to pull together a visit.  We met at a mutual friend's house who happens to live less than five minutes away from me.  It was so awesome to see her!  We all just hung out and chit-chatted, and I discovered that cranberry-apple juice mixed with sangria is insanely delicious.  I also got to cuddle with Seth again.  Damn I love that kid.  My only complaint about our visit is I had to leave much earlier than I actually wanted.  But as I drove home, I told myself that two hours was a whole lot better than nothing at all; especially since I woke up this morning having no clue I'd get even that much.

When I got home, Clint had stripped all the carpet out of our living room and hallway.  We've been installing new flooring (this was my birthday present), and as of now, Elijah's room and the office are done.  Now we're finally on the main part of the house, which means about two weeks of living on concrete.  Oh, we also repainted our office last week.  Clint wanted "Asian", so I came up with the color scheme, but the colors came out much bolder than I had envisioned in my head.  As I was painting the walls, I was thinking, "Crap, this is going to end up looking like ketchup and mustard walls."  And even though that might have been partially true, it all came together in the end, and now I really love this little room.  In person, it is so warm and cheery.  Here are some pics:

Admittedly the desk is still pretty cluttered...

 

 The new floors (they look better in person--camera dulled them out)

It's sort of fun living on concrete right now.  It feels like we're staying in a house that's still under construction.  When I was a little girl, my grandparents built their house from scratch, and Shannon and I used to live with them on the weekends.  We'd all sleep in their motor home, which they had parked on their lot.  At one point, the house was finally dry-walled, and we actually were able to stay inside the house.  I remember my grandpa used to barbecue our dinner right in the living room, over the concrete.  And we would watch TV...on the concrete.  Shan and I also used to tear through the entire house on our Big Wheels (remember those?).  Living on concrete right now reminds me of those happy days.  The only downfall is I'm stuck wearing slippers everywhere I walk, because the ground is so cold.

May All Your Realistic Dreams Come True

A lot of people who know me view me as one of those cheery, optimistic-type persons.  I think it's because I tend to approach life's little challenges with a sense of humor.  You'll never see me cussing because a cat got stuck in my engine compartment, or because my son stuck a paper clip in the electric socket, or because the sheep got in the house and peed all over the living room, or because I burnt half of my eyebrow off, or because I took my sleeping children to work, or...(maybe I should stop now.  This list could go on for awhile).  But the truth is, on the inside (whatever that means), I'm actually a relatively cynical, and even pessimistic, person.  Even though I generally see the humor in things, when it comes to my own goals and ambitions, my inner-voice is always telling me "You can't do this"; "You'll never make it"; and worst of all, "You're foolish for even trying."  I don't know where this comes from.  Maybe it's because, even as a little girl, I could perceive that little patronizing smile on my mom's face when I told her I wanted to be a published writer.  Or maybe it's just something that's built into some people.  I don't know. 

But is being a cynic (or "realist", as I prefer) really such a terrible thing? Studies show that Japanese students far-exceed American students in every possible category, except for self-confidence.  Students in Japan have much less confidence in themselves and their abilities, yet here they are, out-performing students in America in every subject to a degree that is nearly staggering.  And then you have American students, who have accomplished nothing to instill confidence within themselves, yet are still oozing with the stuff.  And they'll still be stuffed full of unsolicited pride and hopes to star on American Idol, even when they're flipping burgers.  Over-blown feelings of self-worth without the accomplishments to back it up leads to nothing but a self-entitled individual with no real future.  I think the students from Japan show us that, perhaps, keeping one's feet firmly planted in reality (which includes experiencing the occasional bouts of pessimism and insecurity) is what drives a person to eventually accomplish something real.

Plus, honestly, I don't mind feeling cynical about things, because then I never have to feel let-down about those things.  It's simple math:  You can't have that feeling of having your hopes crushed if you never hoped to begin with.  Viewing life through realistic lenses doesn't negatively impact my overall happiness level; if anything, it actually increases my overall happiness.  Because when something wonderful does happen, it is completely unexpected, and thus, much more thrilling.   

But sadly, I find myself being a cynic now with Trinity and Elijah.  I just don't like to see them let down, so I constantly find myself telling them "Don't get too excited about blah blah blah, because you never know what can happen."  I'm not trying to paint pictures of an ugly reality for them; it's just that I hate the idea of them feeling disappointment.  I hate the idea of them getting their hopes lifted, and then having their little bubbles burst.  I think it was Alana who told me that I should try to get past this; that part of the fun of childhood is anticipating wonderful things, and the occasional let downs are simply part of growing up.  I do see the validity in this argument, but it's really hard for me to put it in practice.

But what has really brought this issue to surface for me (and prompted this post) was the recent discovery  that my cynicism is actually permeating into my classroom.  Below is a picture of a birthday card I received from one of my students about a month-and-a-half ago.  This card not only had me chuckling because the final message is so "me", but it was also a little bit of a wake-up call.  The edges are cut off, so some of the words are lost, but check out the words on the bottom.

So there it is.  Twenty years from now, I'm going to be known as the teacher who inspired my students to pursue their dreams...but only the realistic ones.  The teacher that pushed her kids to reach for the stars...but only the close, more reachable ones.  The teacher who encouraged her students to spread their wings and take flight...but stay on the ground, cuz let's face it, you can't really fly.

Family Theme Night 2011

Okay, this is the last post I will write regarding Halloween.  I swear.  I hope. 

Much to my surprise, Carnival Night was a lot of fun.  We had a ring toss, goldfish toss (with real goldfish; they all ended up in our pond by the end of the night), balloon darts, pie-eating contest, lion-taming show, and a few other games that I can't currently remember.  For food we ate giant turkey legs, hot dogs, nachos, funnel cake, popcorn, and cotton candy.  I use the word "we" loosely, because I pretty much didn't eat that night (wasn't really in a junk food mood). 

My only complaint about the evening was that everyone decided to clean up the party's mess that very same night, which was a real downer.  Whenever I host an event, I wait until the guests leave to do the big clean-up.  I'll do some basic cleaning while guests are still over (such as putting perishables in the fridge and moving dirty dishes into the sink), but killing the whole party's ambiance with an hour of clean-up makes no sense to me.  It's going to be the last thing your guests remember.  My other complaint is the fact that Clint's sister never puts on any music.  Seriously, it's a party--put on some music!  Other than those two details, the night was great.  Moo did an amazing job decorating the house, the food was great, and the games were really entertaining.

Teri took over a hundred pictures (that's not an exaggeration), and I just narrowed them down to 37 I want to post.

Damn.  I can't post 37 pictures.  Blogger needs a slide show feature.  Hold on, I'm going to check and see if there are any slideshow gadgets that actually work....

Okay, I'm back.  Blogger does have a slideshow gadget, but it requires a Photobucket or Flickr account, and I remember trying it out about six months ago and, even with the account, I couldn't make it work.  I think I'll try it out again, but not tonight.  I have some important movie-watching and nacho-eating to do.

So, until I can get the pics to come out, I'll put up a few pictures of everyone in their costumes.

 Mike (Elvis), Moo (gypsy), Lucas (magician) and Nettie (tightrope walker)

 Carey and Teri (dressed as "tourists"--complete with hula-hoop stomachs)

Me (clown) and Clint (tattooed freak)

 Forgot to mention the GIANT carnival prizes!

 Trinity the leopard (she couldn't find a lion costume)

Elijah the lion tamer (sorry about the lack of a close-up)

Trin and Elijah

 Pie-eating contest

 Trinity with one of her prizes

  Nettie and Lucas cuddling with bears that could swallow them in one gulp if they were actually alive.

That all counted as a "few," right?

Who's the Biggest Loser Here?

Did you know that if a man reduces his daily calorie intake by 15%, his brain goes into starvation mode, resulting in a severe drop in the production of testosterone?  And that this, in turn, can deplete the man's sex drive? 

I only bring this up because Clint has been on Nutrisystem for nearly two weeks now.

I am DYING here.  I don't need ...that, per say, but I'm craving physical affection so much right now that I'm about to start cuddling with strangers off the street.  

Heeeeeeelllllllp!