I woke up in a daze, I got out of bed the way people get into a pool of really cold water, one little bitty bit at a time (except for you nutty people who just jump right in). First I made sure my eyes were open, I did that for awhile. Then I turned on the TV, to mtv/vh1, and propped my head up on the pillow, approx. 7 minutes. Then I propped my back up against the head board, another 7 minutes, then I sat up, legs criss cross style (that is what they are calling it now, right?) in the center of the bed, another 7 minutes, then I looked at the clock, thought "oh sh*t!", and tossed one leg over board, so the whole body would have to follow. My Husband talked during all of this (couldn't hear the lyrics), but it didn't bother me today, and we were together till 12 and he talked plenty. But he wasn't giving me all this attitude and tone, and he was telling me more what he thought, rather than just doing a rebroadcast of what he had heard on Fox and talk radio. Plus he talked about silly stuff sometimes, and was funny about serious stuff others, so it worked out.
I remember when he first started listening to talk radio, it was when Howard Stern went to serious. And my husband needed some way to entertain himself on the way to work (why can't he just listen to music and daydream, like I do?). It drove me nuts. He would call me from his car to tell me what he had just heard, brimming with all this tone, and in your face attitude towards liberals, et cetera. Same thing would happen at night. I'm so tired I am just slipping into bed, and this rant is going on, like little bombs exploding all around me. I feel like I am being yelled at. I try to deactivate them/him. But on and on, it goes, and when I finally just start saying enough I can't take it anymore, he gets all upset, "you are so mean". I told him to get a newspaper column if he feels the need to rant on and on. (He can get a blog and type type type away, more power to ya baby). But he wouldn't stop, oh the sarcasm, I felt like a was wading through rivers of this gloppy dark stuff, it was slow going, and it was wearing me down, there was no pure air left for me to breath, he sucked it all in, and then poured it back out again, tainted and heavy, something that filled my lungs with weight. I started getting worried, it started to feel like a deal breaker, I didn't want to go and on like this. I didn't think I could.
This wasn't the man I had married, all this politics, and news, and so much attitude, derivative attitude, you're all so stupid ha ha. But I kept thinking about it, and asking myself quesitons, what is really happening here? what is really upsetting me? why does he seem so different to me? And I realized, he was/is growing (not necessarily in a way I would have picked, but) he is finding out who he is, what he is about, he is exploring the world, and interested in it, in different ways than he was when we were young. Don't I like to explore, to be free to find other aspects of myself, and other interests, and how would I feel if he wasn't open to me, finding new paths for myself in this world, physical ones, and ones of thought? And so more open to respecting his journey, I listened to him more, and realized something, most of what he was saying didn't bother me, it wasn't his opinions or ideas that I couldn't stand, it was the delivery, the attitude. And now that I have told him that a few thousand times, most of the time he is much better, he tells me the story, but without the mocking tone. I have been forced to listen to talk radio with him in the car, and it isn't so bad, because it does have humor to it, and like I said it isn't the ideas I had a problem with. I think most people want the same things, for themselves, and for others, it is just a difference of how we/they think that would best be accomplished.
My Husband does have some views that I find troubling, but we don't have to agree on everything, he is him, and I am me, and that is fine. And it is not at all a deal breaker. My journey partner and I, have both a joint journey, and our individual ones.
I do wish he wouldn't be so inclined to tell me things he has heard verbatim. I mean if I wanted to watch that news program, or listen to that talk radio show, or read that book, I would, I don't because I don't want to, so he really doesn't need to rebroadcast it, in its entirety for me; just pick out some highlights, tell me some funny parts, give me the general idea, fine.
Friday, March 30, 2007
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
What the heck is wrong with me?
Why am I so unfriendly? Sometimes I like it when the phone rings, but often, not so much. I just had a fit because it rang, and I had to go answer it, and earlier today, not fully taking into account that my son was home from school, when the phone rang, I said, "who the heck can be calling? Whoever you are, I don't want to talk to you!". And then remembering myself, and my son, I said gently " I mean, whoever can it be? I'll get it". That time it was for my son, just now it was the husband (who always makes me run around the house during primetime, to try and answer the stupid phone, and then he says "I'm on my way home", and that is it, if I try to talk he says he has to go, drives me nuts. To some degree in my defense, our downstairs phone doesn't work right, the caller ID is currently unreadable, and when you push the button to answer it, 8 times out of 10 it wont pick up, so then I have to run upstairs to see who it is, and answer the phone. (once last week, I completely lost my mind, and picked up the phone automatically when it rang, and realized too late what I had done, (oh my God, what did you just do?) and was so apprehensive as I realized I had no idea who was on the other end of the line, turns out it was someone who didn't speak english, he kept asking me something (in spanish, I think), and I kept saying " I don't think so", it was a nice verbal loop, round and round, until finally we both hung up.) And if I bring the upstairs phone downstairs then I have to run downstairs whenever the phone rings, when I am upstairs. I hate the downstairs phone, when there is a message on it, it beeps until you get up, push the flashing button and listen to it, this is a special feature, one we can not figure out how to deactivate, one that makes me want to smash the phone.
But really, I should be happy when people call. What if no one ever called? Surely that would be horrible. Maybe it is because most calls we get aren't social, they are sales, and I don't know which is which till I check the caller ID. Even so I do have to concede that I am not very friendly, just this morning Husband was talking, talking, talking, repeating talk radio, while I was getting up and getting ready, and it was bothering me, (I like quiet first thing, I like to collect myself, or to listen to music), so as he was hanging around me in the bathroom, I looked straight at him, walked over to the toilet, and pulled my pants down and sat down (thinking ha that will teach him, he'll run for the hills), nothing, no break in his verbal flow whatsoever, (I think my jaw dropped into my lap, my reaction to his lack of reaction), so I had to just sit there and wait for him to finish talking and leave ( I had further entrapped myself with my attempt at escape), because really I prefer to pee alone. (so I guess it was like a stand off, or a staring contest, and I flinched first, I lost, he called my bluff, and I had to sit there and hear about Iran)
But really, I should be happy when people call. What if no one ever called? Surely that would be horrible. Maybe it is because most calls we get aren't social, they are sales, and I don't know which is which till I check the caller ID. Even so I do have to concede that I am not very friendly, just this morning Husband was talking, talking, talking, repeating talk radio, while I was getting up and getting ready, and it was bothering me, (I like quiet first thing, I like to collect myself, or to listen to music), so as he was hanging around me in the bathroom, I looked straight at him, walked over to the toilet, and pulled my pants down and sat down (thinking ha that will teach him, he'll run for the hills), nothing, no break in his verbal flow whatsoever, (I think my jaw dropped into my lap, my reaction to his lack of reaction), so I had to just sit there and wait for him to finish talking and leave ( I had further entrapped myself with my attempt at escape), because really I prefer to pee alone. (so I guess it was like a stand off, or a staring contest, and I flinched first, I lost, he called my bluff, and I had to sit there and hear about Iran)
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
so St. Patricks Day
Let's see if I can write this fast.
I found some prank ideas online, familyfun was good, and even the stuff that wasn't for me helped wake my mind up and give me other ideas.
Ugh, I was so tired that night, and the Husband and Son were watching a movie on TV downstairs. At 10 I was desperately trying to get him to get to bed, by 10:30 in bed, so I just had to wait for him to fall asleep. By 11, I was downstairs setting stuff up. The cat was following me around, meowing, and meowing. So I asked the DH for some help with cat. H- "what can I do?" M- "anything". Everything took longer than I thought it would, it always does. DH "what are you doing? You're nuts". I asked him to help me make the fake man, just to cut out the posterboard for the news paper, and glue it on. H "you don't need to do all this" M- "no, but I am. Will you please help me?". He did once I had rounded up everything, scissors and all and handed it to him. I had just finished downstairs a little after 1am and was about to go upstairs when Son woke up, heard him scurry down hall. I waited a few, went upstairs to check on him. When I went in his room, his eyes were open wide like someone in shock or terror; I think maybe he was worried it was a leprachaun opening his door. ( I did the mom stuff, got him more water, put his covers on him, told him to go to sleep, patted him, he is not a kissy huggy child). I'm like "Okay so now what? It is late, I am so tired, and he is wide awake", so I went to lie in bed for about a half an hour, while I waited for him to fall back to sleep (oh bed, so near and yet so far from it). And when I got back up, whenever I walked past his room, he would roll over, so, I had to scrap stuff (I was going to do in his room), and come up with other ideas. As I was doing them I was lamenting this whole idea, what a stupid way to spends one's time, like smacking one's head against a wall for entertainment, why why why.
At 6:30 am a crashing noise, and a gleeful child runs into my room (actually it was 5:30 am as I had turned the seven clocks in the house all ahead an hour) "Mom, Mom. They came! They came! And guess what, two cups of confetti just dumped all over me and the bathroom floor...and..and..." He chittered away and hopped around like a small bird. He wanted to go downstairs, but I said lets wait till 9. I always say this holiday mornings, at 6:30 as it feels my head has just hit the pillow, I don't know why I say it though, as all that happens is I spend an hour or two, being woken up every 10 to fifteen minutes, as my Son comes in and out of the room, begging us to get up, or telling us about something. When we did get up, he gave us the pranking grand tour. At some point he stopped to wash his hands, when he turned the sink on, the water squirted out all over him and the kitchen floor, Me- "turn it off, turn it off", Him- giggling hysterically; when this happened, my surprise was as great as his, having completely forgotten I had set this up. Most of the pranks aren't really pranks, they are just cute sort of things; like the battle of his toys, over a glitter Leprachaun hat, with little plastic policeman and cars, setting up a barracade to protect it (I wonder if he will ever lift up the hat and find the little green teddybear under it?). The rubber duckies floating in the table fountain, with numbers on the bottom, with sign-every one a winner, try your luck with a duck, (and silly prizes). Standard fare, plastic, and rubber insects in cereal boxes, bathtubs, et cetera. The big spider balanced unseen atop the milk carton, worked well. Fake foods, and fake spilled food. My Husband, actually really liked the fake man in the chair in the living room. It took my son forever to find the pot of gold, hidden in a planter, with a false top, and actual dirt on top, with rainbow painted mushrooms as the clue. The big SpongeBob on the toilet with the St. Pattys day green hat on, bathroom door closed, went over well with him, It was supposed to be upstairs, but I was afraid, my son might use the bathroom in the night, and not see before he'd pee. I should have had him with a wade of toilet paper in his hand, stretching out the roll, though. I do fake toothpaste, squeeze it into his tube every year, green, and my son never ever tries it, which disappoints me, as it is icing. And I always put something in his sneaker, gooey shoey (gello), last year it was a gross soft rubber chicken, and this year, I went simple, I did Tic Tacs ( just because of Tic Tac Toe, but no one of course got that). He had his dad call the number left by Mr. Lyon, on the message, the Philadelphia zoo of course (my son watches a cartoon where a kid with the last name Lyon gets sent to an animal school, so I knew he would like this one). I was disappointed it had snowed, I wanted to crazy glue coins to the driveway, and instead, had to just glue them on the paper message from Mr. Lyon (I am sure however that my DH is happy about that). Two pranks had to wait till Monday, and getting ready for school to be found, the candy fish in the hair gel ( I should have used rubber ones, as they "duh me, dummy" were half disolved), and the green smiley face (permanent marker) on his deoderant. I made sure he saw it ( I put it on him or he doesn't wear it, and believe me you, he needs to wear it), but it would have worked as a prank too, because it did leave green streaks on his underarms. And they didn't figure it out, about the clocks, that night, still clueless, so I told my son it was time to go to bed, and we argued about it, he said no because of what was on TV, so I showed him my clock, he said "so your clock is wrong" so I took him all over the house and showed him every clock, he was unfazed, "well I guess you never set them right for daylight savings". AARrrhhhh! I said "yes I did, all last week we weren't off on our time. Did you get to school an hour early everyday? No, you didn't". Finally the next day, he conceded that maybe it had been a prank. Yes it was, one on me apparently.
Anyway, my son wouldn't let me take any of the pranks down till both of his good friends had been over to see them, the one just came over this past Sunday, and I saw my son walking around with Spongbob's green hat on, while giving the tour, and I thought, well you know what, it was worth it. He did actually enjoy it, and appreciate it, which is a heck of a lot more than I can say about most of the stuff I do for him.
seriously? 12:35? I guess I didn't write that fast after-all. It is now or never for the mill.
I am so pleased the snow has melted away, I don't need to see it again till 08.
" Woman, go work out, or clean, or do real writing, no more meandering on paper." "oh alright". The sun is back. "go!"
I found some prank ideas online, familyfun was good, and even the stuff that wasn't for me helped wake my mind up and give me other ideas.
Ugh, I was so tired that night, and the Husband and Son were watching a movie on TV downstairs. At 10 I was desperately trying to get him to get to bed, by 10:30 in bed, so I just had to wait for him to fall asleep. By 11, I was downstairs setting stuff up. The cat was following me around, meowing, and meowing. So I asked the DH for some help with cat. H- "what can I do?" M- "anything". Everything took longer than I thought it would, it always does. DH "what are you doing? You're nuts". I asked him to help me make the fake man, just to cut out the posterboard for the news paper, and glue it on. H "you don't need to do all this" M- "no, but I am. Will you please help me?". He did once I had rounded up everything, scissors and all and handed it to him. I had just finished downstairs a little after 1am and was about to go upstairs when Son woke up, heard him scurry down hall. I waited a few, went upstairs to check on him. When I went in his room, his eyes were open wide like someone in shock or terror; I think maybe he was worried it was a leprachaun opening his door. ( I did the mom stuff, got him more water, put his covers on him, told him to go to sleep, patted him, he is not a kissy huggy child). I'm like "Okay so now what? It is late, I am so tired, and he is wide awake", so I went to lie in bed for about a half an hour, while I waited for him to fall back to sleep (oh bed, so near and yet so far from it). And when I got back up, whenever I walked past his room, he would roll over, so, I had to scrap stuff (I was going to do in his room), and come up with other ideas. As I was doing them I was lamenting this whole idea, what a stupid way to spends one's time, like smacking one's head against a wall for entertainment, why why why.
At 6:30 am a crashing noise, and a gleeful child runs into my room (actually it was 5:30 am as I had turned the seven clocks in the house all ahead an hour) "Mom, Mom. They came! They came! And guess what, two cups of confetti just dumped all over me and the bathroom floor...and..and..." He chittered away and hopped around like a small bird. He wanted to go downstairs, but I said lets wait till 9. I always say this holiday mornings, at 6:30 as it feels my head has just hit the pillow, I don't know why I say it though, as all that happens is I spend an hour or two, being woken up every 10 to fifteen minutes, as my Son comes in and out of the room, begging us to get up, or telling us about something. When we did get up, he gave us the pranking grand tour. At some point he stopped to wash his hands, when he turned the sink on, the water squirted out all over him and the kitchen floor, Me- "turn it off, turn it off", Him- giggling hysterically; when this happened, my surprise was as great as his, having completely forgotten I had set this up. Most of the pranks aren't really pranks, they are just cute sort of things; like the battle of his toys, over a glitter Leprachaun hat, with little plastic policeman and cars, setting up a barracade to protect it (I wonder if he will ever lift up the hat and find the little green teddybear under it?). The rubber duckies floating in the table fountain, with numbers on the bottom, with sign-every one a winner, try your luck with a duck, (and silly prizes). Standard fare, plastic, and rubber insects in cereal boxes, bathtubs, et cetera. The big spider balanced unseen atop the milk carton, worked well. Fake foods, and fake spilled food. My Husband, actually really liked the fake man in the chair in the living room. It took my son forever to find the pot of gold, hidden in a planter, with a false top, and actual dirt on top, with rainbow painted mushrooms as the clue. The big SpongeBob on the toilet with the St. Pattys day green hat on, bathroom door closed, went over well with him, It was supposed to be upstairs, but I was afraid, my son might use the bathroom in the night, and not see before he'd pee. I should have had him with a wade of toilet paper in his hand, stretching out the roll, though. I do fake toothpaste, squeeze it into his tube every year, green, and my son never ever tries it, which disappoints me, as it is icing. And I always put something in his sneaker, gooey shoey (gello), last year it was a gross soft rubber chicken, and this year, I went simple, I did Tic Tacs ( just because of Tic Tac Toe, but no one of course got that). He had his dad call the number left by Mr. Lyon, on the message, the Philadelphia zoo of course (my son watches a cartoon where a kid with the last name Lyon gets sent to an animal school, so I knew he would like this one). I was disappointed it had snowed, I wanted to crazy glue coins to the driveway, and instead, had to just glue them on the paper message from Mr. Lyon (I am sure however that my DH is happy about that). Two pranks had to wait till Monday, and getting ready for school to be found, the candy fish in the hair gel ( I should have used rubber ones, as they "duh me, dummy" were half disolved), and the green smiley face (permanent marker) on his deoderant. I made sure he saw it ( I put it on him or he doesn't wear it, and believe me you, he needs to wear it), but it would have worked as a prank too, because it did leave green streaks on his underarms. And they didn't figure it out, about the clocks, that night, still clueless, so I told my son it was time to go to bed, and we argued about it, he said no because of what was on TV, so I showed him my clock, he said "so your clock is wrong" so I took him all over the house and showed him every clock, he was unfazed, "well I guess you never set them right for daylight savings". AARrrhhhh! I said "yes I did, all last week we weren't off on our time. Did you get to school an hour early everyday? No, you didn't". Finally the next day, he conceded that maybe it had been a prank. Yes it was, one on me apparently.
Anyway, my son wouldn't let me take any of the pranks down till both of his good friends had been over to see them, the one just came over this past Sunday, and I saw my son walking around with Spongbob's green hat on, while giving the tour, and I thought, well you know what, it was worth it. He did actually enjoy it, and appreciate it, which is a heck of a lot more than I can say about most of the stuff I do for him.
seriously? 12:35? I guess I didn't write that fast after-all. It is now or never for the mill.
I am so pleased the snow has melted away, I don't need to see it again till 08.
" Woman, go work out, or clean, or do real writing, no more meandering on paper." "oh alright". The sun is back. "go!"
it is so beautiful outside
I wish it would just stay like this from now on. I feel like buying roses and digging holes and planting things ( See myself like Mikiyoshi, pouring buckets of seeds into the ground). But of course it is too early for that. Birds are everywhere. I opened all the windows. The sound of birds. The sights and sounds driving the cat crazy in a happy sort of way. I'm excited. I can't decide what to do with myself. I should dust and vacuum ( and certainly that is on the list, just nowhere near the top of it).
My Husband, who has off from work today, has already lectured me for not being a giving person, as I showed no interest whatsoever in making him breakfast. I told him I didn't believe in it, unless it is fruit (and for some people stuff like cereal, or oatmeal, or yogurt), and that I would gladly get him some strawberries. (I do make the child eggs on occasion as per his begging, very rarely I will make pancakes or french toast, my eggs are good, but the french toast and pancakes used to be horrible, so I had to improve them, they now taste good, but are not anything anyone should actually be eating. The son says "hey, these taste like cookies") I told my Husband that I never have misled him, I never pretended to be different then I am; I wasn't all running around doing stuff for him when were dating; I've always been like this. "Yes", he said, "but you would be a lot happier if you would take care of me". Me- "really?" Him "Yes, because I would be happier, and that would make you happier". I put my bowl of strawberries down, and looked over at him lying on the sofa, cat on his lap, watching Regis and kelly with me, waiting for his friend to call about going skateboarding, and said "you look happy enough to me". Him -"yeah, but I could be happier." (yeah, well couldn't we all). He is gone now, went to Philly for the day, skateboarding. Ooh, the sun just went in (or rather clouds are between us). He feels guilty for going. I didn't say anything. But I know he does because he said goodbye to me and I love you, at least 5 times (he is coming back, right?). One of these times I did say, "hey, you look nice. Are you sure you aren't going on a date?" (new dark green t-shirt, pale tan khaki pants, and green vans). Which freaked him out a bit. And he kept asking if I thought he was too dressed up for skateboarding. Me- "No". He came back upstairs and changed his pants, before saying goodbye to me several more times, and actually leaving.
Well as it is overcast now, I suppose I will go exercise, I will just do the mill, though I am sure it would be emotionally better to walk outside. The scale was playing its trick on me again today. About once a month I will get on the scale and will see whatever is considered to me my current, wish it was, working toward, target weight. And I will be like yeah! Woohoo! And then the voice in my head will say "Tiffany don't be silly, you know you don't actually weigh that" "I don't?" "No. Get back on the scale" and then I do and I will weigh at least a pound and half more, sometimes 3 or 4 pounds more. "oh". " Bummer". Today it was the pound and a half. It was so sad to gain a pound and half in one second. To see a good number, and then "ha ha, Not!". I can't figure out why this happens, I mean I'm not holding on to anything, or leaning on something, or anything that would make it logical that it would be less. My conclusion is that the universe is playing with me, in a silly sort of way.
Anyway I've got stuff to do
My Husband, who has off from work today, has already lectured me for not being a giving person, as I showed no interest whatsoever in making him breakfast. I told him I didn't believe in it, unless it is fruit (and for some people stuff like cereal, or oatmeal, or yogurt), and that I would gladly get him some strawberries. (I do make the child eggs on occasion as per his begging, very rarely I will make pancakes or french toast, my eggs are good, but the french toast and pancakes used to be horrible, so I had to improve them, they now taste good, but are not anything anyone should actually be eating. The son says "hey, these taste like cookies") I told my Husband that I never have misled him, I never pretended to be different then I am; I wasn't all running around doing stuff for him when were dating; I've always been like this. "Yes", he said, "but you would be a lot happier if you would take care of me". Me- "really?" Him "Yes, because I would be happier, and that would make you happier". I put my bowl of strawberries down, and looked over at him lying on the sofa, cat on his lap, watching Regis and kelly with me, waiting for his friend to call about going skateboarding, and said "you look happy enough to me". Him -"yeah, but I could be happier." (yeah, well couldn't we all). He is gone now, went to Philly for the day, skateboarding. Ooh, the sun just went in (or rather clouds are between us). He feels guilty for going. I didn't say anything. But I know he does because he said goodbye to me and I love you, at least 5 times (he is coming back, right?). One of these times I did say, "hey, you look nice. Are you sure you aren't going on a date?" (new dark green t-shirt, pale tan khaki pants, and green vans). Which freaked him out a bit. And he kept asking if I thought he was too dressed up for skateboarding. Me- "No". He came back upstairs and changed his pants, before saying goodbye to me several more times, and actually leaving.
Well as it is overcast now, I suppose I will go exercise, I will just do the mill, though I am sure it would be emotionally better to walk outside. The scale was playing its trick on me again today. About once a month I will get on the scale and will see whatever is considered to me my current, wish it was, working toward, target weight. And I will be like yeah! Woohoo! And then the voice in my head will say "Tiffany don't be silly, you know you don't actually weigh that" "I don't?" "No. Get back on the scale" and then I do and I will weigh at least a pound and half more, sometimes 3 or 4 pounds more. "oh". " Bummer". Today it was the pound and a half. It was so sad to gain a pound and half in one second. To see a good number, and then "ha ha, Not!". I can't figure out why this happens, I mean I'm not holding on to anything, or leaning on something, or anything that would make it logical that it would be less. My conclusion is that the universe is playing with me, in a silly sort of way.
Anyway I've got stuff to do
Monday, March 26, 2007
I do not talk about Anderson Cooper a lot!!
The other day, brushing my son's hair, for some reason we are talking about height, and I say, it is unlikely you will be taller than 5'10, and he says "You mean I wont be taller than Anderson Cooper?". First there is this look of shock on my face, which clearly delights my son, then I say "No, you wont be taller than Anderson Cooper. How do you know the appoximate height of Anders?". Son- "Because you talk about him all the time". No, I don't.
At grocery store, son picks up container of peanut butter pretzels "Look mom, Anderson brand". (with a sort of tilt to his voice)
Son- "Why haven't you played video games lately?". Me- "I don't know, I don't feel like it.". Son- "I bet you would if there was some Anderson virtual reality game.". Well, maybe.
Husband last night, says "There should be a cold survivor, none of this tropical island stuff". I say "no way that would be too harsh" (I shiver just thining about it). H-"There should be a celebrity survivor, or a broadcasting one, and Anderson should be on it". Me "Maybe, he would have to be off work for a month". (yes, I would totally watch that. Not a surreal version, a real survivor)
There are many other examples of my family talking about Anders.
My point here is this, I think they are the ones who are always talking about Anderson. The Husand was the one who brought up and was talking about Anderson's height, not me. (I'm 5'3 and a half, as long as he is at least 5'4, it's good. I like to look up to a man, but I don't care how far. And anyway it is totally irrelevant) Yes, it is true I go on an Anderson blog (just 1), and okay, I go on it just about everyday, but I usually do this while son is at school. And yes I do watch 360 most weeknights, after son is in bed. But I don't walk around talking about Anderson. What would I say? I think the boy must not be asleep at night, and must hear my husband and I talking, while 360 is on. There is often a struggle for the remote control, as husband wants to watch fox, and wants to change channels frequently, I want to watch 360 and want husband to be quiet, but if he will watch, he will talk. He will talk about Anderson, and he will talk about the shows content. I think it is the Husband who talks about Anders in front of our son, during the day, Husband has been known to do Anderson impersonations (they are quite funny).
So really it is them. They bring him up, not me. But sadly that doesn't totally get me off the hook, because then I have to ask myself why. Why do they keep bringing up Anderson? Husband brings him up, at times to make fun of him, and to make sure I am clear on what Mr. Cooper's gender preferences are (Me- yeah, maybe, so). Both Husband and Son will bring him up to tease me. Since I do not walk around talking about Anderson to them, why would they walk around talking about Anderson to me? Because they know it is a good way to get my attention.
Which makes me feel bad, for like a nanosecond. I mean, bad mom and wife, not paying enough attention to family, that they must go out of their way to pick an obvious topic of her interest, to engage her. Then I find myself recalling how they go on and on and on and on and on, about politics (talk radio), and video games, and cartoons (both of them), in great detail, no matter how nicely (the first 100 times) or rudely (the times thereafter) I ask them to please stop, and how, they never listen to a word I say, so much so, that I really don't talk to them much anymore, certainly not about Anderson, and not about much of anything, unless I know it is a subject of interest to them. ( and still I am amazed at the number of times I have to turn off the sink while doing the dishes (or walk back down the stairs just after I had walked up them to go to bed) to hear what Husband is saying to me, and then when I respond, he doesn't say anything, and I say it again, and again, and then he says "what?". And I realize that even though he picked the topic, and I am responding to something he said, he has gone back to watching TV and isn't listening to me at all). So, really, I don't think I will feel bad, finally they are evolving, finally learning to pick a topic of interest to another person in an attempt to engage that person in conversation.
And I thought this day would never come.
At grocery store, son picks up container of peanut butter pretzels "Look mom, Anderson brand". (with a sort of tilt to his voice)
Son- "Why haven't you played video games lately?". Me- "I don't know, I don't feel like it.". Son- "I bet you would if there was some Anderson virtual reality game.". Well, maybe.
Husband last night, says "There should be a cold survivor, none of this tropical island stuff". I say "no way that would be too harsh" (I shiver just thining about it). H-"There should be a celebrity survivor, or a broadcasting one, and Anderson should be on it". Me "Maybe, he would have to be off work for a month". (yes, I would totally watch that. Not a surreal version, a real survivor)
There are many other examples of my family talking about Anders.
My point here is this, I think they are the ones who are always talking about Anderson. The Husand was the one who brought up and was talking about Anderson's height, not me. (I'm 5'3 and a half, as long as he is at least 5'4, it's good. I like to look up to a man, but I don't care how far. And anyway it is totally irrelevant) Yes, it is true I go on an Anderson blog (just 1), and okay, I go on it just about everyday, but I usually do this while son is at school. And yes I do watch 360 most weeknights, after son is in bed. But I don't walk around talking about Anderson. What would I say? I think the boy must not be asleep at night, and must hear my husband and I talking, while 360 is on. There is often a struggle for the remote control, as husband wants to watch fox, and wants to change channels frequently, I want to watch 360 and want husband to be quiet, but if he will watch, he will talk. He will talk about Anderson, and he will talk about the shows content. I think it is the Husband who talks about Anders in front of our son, during the day, Husband has been known to do Anderson impersonations (they are quite funny).
So really it is them. They bring him up, not me. But sadly that doesn't totally get me off the hook, because then I have to ask myself why. Why do they keep bringing up Anderson? Husband brings him up, at times to make fun of him, and to make sure I am clear on what Mr. Cooper's gender preferences are (Me- yeah, maybe, so). Both Husband and Son will bring him up to tease me. Since I do not walk around talking about Anderson to them, why would they walk around talking about Anderson to me? Because they know it is a good way to get my attention.
Which makes me feel bad, for like a nanosecond. I mean, bad mom and wife, not paying enough attention to family, that they must go out of their way to pick an obvious topic of her interest, to engage her. Then I find myself recalling how they go on and on and on and on and on, about politics (talk radio), and video games, and cartoons (both of them), in great detail, no matter how nicely (the first 100 times) or rudely (the times thereafter) I ask them to please stop, and how, they never listen to a word I say, so much so, that I really don't talk to them much anymore, certainly not about Anderson, and not about much of anything, unless I know it is a subject of interest to them. ( and still I am amazed at the number of times I have to turn off the sink while doing the dishes (or walk back down the stairs just after I had walked up them to go to bed) to hear what Husband is saying to me, and then when I respond, he doesn't say anything, and I say it again, and again, and then he says "what?". And I realize that even though he picked the topic, and I am responding to something he said, he has gone back to watching TV and isn't listening to me at all). So, really, I don't think I will feel bad, finally they are evolving, finally learning to pick a topic of interest to another person in an attempt to engage that person in conversation.
And I thought this day would never come.
whatever (more stupid boring food talk)
During week, washing dishes, Husband keeps saying "come here, look at this", stuff on TV, I come over, it is Bobby Flay, "Look at that steak. Doesn't it look great? He has a restaurant in..". "That's nice" I say "but why should I be interested unless I might at some point actually get to eat the food. Why point it out to me unless we are going to go". And I went back to the dishes, then he says "Hey I could call up my friend in NY and we could go together". Me- "You mean without me?" He- "yeah", me-"why would you say all that and then say you are going to go without me?". He "why would I take you? You would just be miserable, first I would have to get you on the bus, I don't like buses, then drag you around the city all day, where's the bathroom? Then you wouldn't like the food and it would be expensive and, my stomach the stabbing pain in my stomach! You wouldn't have a good time.". Rude, rude man. I reiterate, why mention it to me, if he isn't going to take me.
Saturday I actually did some research, it was almost accidental, I was looking up other stuff online, and decided to look up Douc Langurs when I was done, just so I wouldn't feel so bad about spending my time in pointless ways. I found useful information, two pieces that I really needed (hadn't found when intentionally researching topic), and also a different way to approach the scene. So I am happy about that.
Saturday, got in a bit of a fight with Husband over food. Strawberries. I asked if he had any $ ,said I wanted to go buy strawberries, he said "no" (no money and you don't need them). I said the pineapple wasn't going over well, and I thought the strawberries would be better. He said I should stop babying my stomach, and toughen up. I said I needed a base, he said, eat yogurt, or toast. I said yogurt sounded awful, and that I can't eat bread first thing, it hurts. Then we went back and forth a bit about what was and what wasn't a base for one's stomach. He then said I should cut up bananas into really small mushy pieces like someone would for a baby, or why not just eat baby food. Then a minute later, he said "oh, will you make me something and pack it up for lunch?". Yeah I thought, how about some mushy bananas, and a side of baby food on toast. But I did do it, made him a real lunch.
Sunday, I was getting depressed about food. In the past month, I have eaten, about 11 avocados (two bags of chips, not keeping track of sour cream on purpose, I'm currently on fourth bunch of cilantro, ditto basil). At least 6 containers of the salsa (I am on my third gorcery store that carries it, the other two are now out), 6 jars of that pasta sauce, 4 or 5 boxes of Pav Bhaji, and different kinds of veg, et cetera, (as well as attempts at eating this and that, which I tend to regret later). In the past 7 days, I have eaten 4 or 5 of these spinach feta sandwich pocket Amy's things. I am getting tired of this stuff, but I don't want anything else either. Yesterday there wasn't anything I wanted to eat. I ate half a package of soy ginger carrots, mixed in asparagus, it was pretty good, but then nothing was of interest. I am a person who likes food, I look forward to eating. What the H is going on? Last week I got just one of this and one of that, at Wegman's asian bar, I liked one thing (the squash in this yellow curry), I didn't like any of the fried chicken stuff. I feel like I've been taken over by aliens, who the heck is this? Where am I? I hated the oreo, didn't like the nutter butter, the healtier version of cookies are kind of wierd but I prefer their taste to the junky ones. A lot of stuff is yuck, and the rest is eh..it's okay, I can eat it. Why aren't things appealing?
Today, for breakfast, I had strawberries, oddly I didn't like them, they were too hard and not sweet, and I had to take little bites or I felt like I would gag ( I cut them up, I added sugar, I tried to make them mushy. I trudged through them. I mean, what a horrible thing to say and feel about strawberries). For Linner, or Dunch I had an avocado, sour cream, container of mango peach salsa, lots of cilantro, some tortilla corn chips (that went well,which was good, since I couldn't tolerate eating it on Sunday, but still it isn't a healthy choice),then half a cup of leftover ginger carrot stuff. For dessert I had half a large "healthy" oatmeal cookie (wasn't of interest), and ate the chocolate chips out of three little cookies (which is wrong I know, but hey, they are my cookies). Oh and I had some pineapple tidbits (4 maybe), which is just the same as eating pure sugar I am sure (they were alright). The majority of my calories are coming from fat. (with a side of sugar)
I bought different kinds of Indian foods ( I know that I like the paneer okay, the others, who knows), and some frozen Amy's and Cedar lane things, I'm just not very motivated to make or eat them, but I will try and make myself do it tomorrow, as I should find some other things I want to eat, chips and guacamole are not meant to be staples. I would like to go to Red Robins, I like to get the 5 alarm burger there and have them substitute tuna steak for the burger. This is something I used to eat, and enjoy, I am hoping it will be like a magical reset, and I will go back to the way I was. I would force the issue, or just go and get it myself, but... What if I don't like it? What if I can't eat it? I don't see how I wont be depressed if that is what happens.
I mean the thing is, that rude man is right, I would be a pain in the a** to drag all over the city, and maybe I wouldn't be able to eat the food, but right now is rather a sucky time to be pointing that out to me.
The husband did say yesterday that I should buy frozen strawberries, so I wouldn't have to worry about running out of them. I am glad that he has decided not to continue to give me a bad time about it, but I hope I can find something else to eat for breakfast. Something that I enjoy.
My Dad thinks I should go to a doctor since this does seem to be affecting my life. I don't think anything is wrong, and hate tests; I keep waiting to wake up one day, and be like, normal again; I still expect that to happen, it's just a question of when. I would be concerned if I was losing weight, well after I lost 10 pounds I would be concerned if I lost more weight, but I have only lost a couple of pounds and I think that was from excercising, and anyway I needed to lose that weight. Actually I need to lose 5 more pounds. Sort of a bummer to not be having fun with food, and to not be down with weight, but I must be eating calorically dense foods.
Saturday I actually did some research, it was almost accidental, I was looking up other stuff online, and decided to look up Douc Langurs when I was done, just so I wouldn't feel so bad about spending my time in pointless ways. I found useful information, two pieces that I really needed (hadn't found when intentionally researching topic), and also a different way to approach the scene. So I am happy about that.
Saturday, got in a bit of a fight with Husband over food. Strawberries. I asked if he had any $ ,said I wanted to go buy strawberries, he said "no" (no money and you don't need them). I said the pineapple wasn't going over well, and I thought the strawberries would be better. He said I should stop babying my stomach, and toughen up. I said I needed a base, he said, eat yogurt, or toast. I said yogurt sounded awful, and that I can't eat bread first thing, it hurts. Then we went back and forth a bit about what was and what wasn't a base for one's stomach. He then said I should cut up bananas into really small mushy pieces like someone would for a baby, or why not just eat baby food. Then a minute later, he said "oh, will you make me something and pack it up for lunch?". Yeah I thought, how about some mushy bananas, and a side of baby food on toast. But I did do it, made him a real lunch.
Sunday, I was getting depressed about food. In the past month, I have eaten, about 11 avocados (two bags of chips, not keeping track of sour cream on purpose, I'm currently on fourth bunch of cilantro, ditto basil). At least 6 containers of the salsa (I am on my third gorcery store that carries it, the other two are now out), 6 jars of that pasta sauce, 4 or 5 boxes of Pav Bhaji, and different kinds of veg, et cetera, (as well as attempts at eating this and that, which I tend to regret later). In the past 7 days, I have eaten 4 or 5 of these spinach feta sandwich pocket Amy's things. I am getting tired of this stuff, but I don't want anything else either. Yesterday there wasn't anything I wanted to eat. I ate half a package of soy ginger carrots, mixed in asparagus, it was pretty good, but then nothing was of interest. I am a person who likes food, I look forward to eating. What the H is going on? Last week I got just one of this and one of that, at Wegman's asian bar, I liked one thing (the squash in this yellow curry), I didn't like any of the fried chicken stuff. I feel like I've been taken over by aliens, who the heck is this? Where am I? I hated the oreo, didn't like the nutter butter, the healtier version of cookies are kind of wierd but I prefer their taste to the junky ones. A lot of stuff is yuck, and the rest is eh..it's okay, I can eat it. Why aren't things appealing?
Today, for breakfast, I had strawberries, oddly I didn't like them, they were too hard and not sweet, and I had to take little bites or I felt like I would gag ( I cut them up, I added sugar, I tried to make them mushy. I trudged through them. I mean, what a horrible thing to say and feel about strawberries). For Linner, or Dunch I had an avocado, sour cream, container of mango peach salsa, lots of cilantro, some tortilla corn chips (that went well,which was good, since I couldn't tolerate eating it on Sunday, but still it isn't a healthy choice),then half a cup of leftover ginger carrot stuff. For dessert I had half a large "healthy" oatmeal cookie (wasn't of interest), and ate the chocolate chips out of three little cookies (which is wrong I know, but hey, they are my cookies). Oh and I had some pineapple tidbits (4 maybe), which is just the same as eating pure sugar I am sure (they were alright). The majority of my calories are coming from fat. (with a side of sugar)
I bought different kinds of Indian foods ( I know that I like the paneer okay, the others, who knows), and some frozen Amy's and Cedar lane things, I'm just not very motivated to make or eat them, but I will try and make myself do it tomorrow, as I should find some other things I want to eat, chips and guacamole are not meant to be staples. I would like to go to Red Robins, I like to get the 5 alarm burger there and have them substitute tuna steak for the burger. This is something I used to eat, and enjoy, I am hoping it will be like a magical reset, and I will go back to the way I was. I would force the issue, or just go and get it myself, but... What if I don't like it? What if I can't eat it? I don't see how I wont be depressed if that is what happens.
I mean the thing is, that rude man is right, I would be a pain in the a** to drag all over the city, and maybe I wouldn't be able to eat the food, but right now is rather a sucky time to be pointing that out to me.
The husband did say yesterday that I should buy frozen strawberries, so I wouldn't have to worry about running out of them. I am glad that he has decided not to continue to give me a bad time about it, but I hope I can find something else to eat for breakfast. Something that I enjoy.
My Dad thinks I should go to a doctor since this does seem to be affecting my life. I don't think anything is wrong, and hate tests; I keep waiting to wake up one day, and be like, normal again; I still expect that to happen, it's just a question of when. I would be concerned if I was losing weight, well after I lost 10 pounds I would be concerned if I lost more weight, but I have only lost a couple of pounds and I think that was from excercising, and anyway I needed to lose that weight. Actually I need to lose 5 more pounds. Sort of a bummer to not be having fun with food, and to not be down with weight, but I must be eating calorically dense foods.
Thursday, March 22, 2007
P.S.
oh and I am very upset with myself over my writing, with my lack of it. Intelletually I know what I want to do, that I need to do it, but there is no emotion behind it, no energy, no drive, and I haven't been forcing myself to just sit in the chair and write. I am hardly even writing snipets of stuff randomly in my notebook to type in later. It is just gone. I feel empty. I know I love this story and it's characters, I remember that, but I am not feeling. I need a new strategy for kicking myself in the butt, and making me do it. I mean I can't have just given up, this can't be it, unfinished. Incomplete. Ugh. I gotta go, time just keeps getting away from me.
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