Ode to WICKED AWESOME SHEENA

WICKED AWESOME SHEENA is there for me. She saw a need and filled a need - just like in the Robot's movie. And she should be a movie star, because she's WICKED AWESOME SHEENA. What you people who have yet to donate (look at me all thinking positive) need to realize is that I will be happy with anything. If it's something that you've sold, such as Creative Memories like WICKED AWESOME SHEENA does, or just something cool you've got laying around your house that you wouldn't miss too badly to give it to a fantastic cause, it doesn't matter. Just be like WICKED AWESOME SHEENA and donate!

Okay, for WICKED AWESOME SHEENA everybody needs to send her mental images of a WICKED AWESOME vacation, because she so needs one, even though she's WICKED AWESOME SHEENA. Be prepared WICKED AWESOME SHEENA, with all the mental beaches-with-palm-trees pictures you're going to be recieving you may just find yourself feeling like you're somewhere you're not. A nice mental vacation for ya!

THANK YOU WICKED AWESOME SHEENA!!!

Ode to TOTALLY AWESOME HEIDI

So, even though I thought people would just smirk and click away from my last post TOTALLY AWESOME HEIDI jumped right in and donated for our school. TOTALLY AWESOME HEIDI doesn't even live in the same state as I do, and yet her heart is so big and so TOTALLY AWESOME that she did it anyway. Everybody give her a mental high-five, because that's what TOTALLY AWESOME people do for TOTALLY AWESOME HEIDI. Watch out TOTALLY AWESOME HEIDI, you've got some major mental kudos coming your way from all 25 people who read this.

Now, it's not too late for you to become TOTALLY AWESOME either. Take a page out of TOTALLY AWESOME HEIDI's book and donate for such a great cause and you too can have a TOTALLY AWESOME post like TOTALLY AWESOME HEIDI got.

THANK YOU TOTALLY AWESOME HEIDI!!!

Yeah, I know it's bordering on Seriously So Blessed, but I promise and I deliver.

PTSA Power

Last year when Caden was in Kindergarten I paid $25 for a family membership to the PTSA and never used it once. We never went to any of the activities they had, I never went to the meetings, nothing, nada, zip, zilch. So this year, I did not join the PTSA and yet somehow I have ended up on the auction committee. It's the only fundraiser Caden's school does all year, which is nice because we're not having to buy crapping paper, or crap knacks, or overpriced candy bars that the children eat on the bus and then hand their parents a box of empty wrappers and then expect you to pony up a check for said eaten candy bars at $3 a pop which is next to impossible because you already spent all your money on book orders for the same stupid kid; but on the other hand, the parents do all the work. And I do mean all the work.

I somehow have wound up in charge of all of the class projects - just making sure they get done. They're suppossed to be some kind of memorabilia thing, so lots of handprints, footprints, pictures, signatures going on with those. And of course I got handed the project midstream, so half the classes have parent volunteers already doing projects and half the classes don't.

Deep thought for today: If you leave a message and nobody calls you back, did you really leave a message at all?

Uh, nobody called me back. Until like a week later and then one lady did. Okay, so I have 3 of the 8 class projects all to myself. Luckily I'm so fetchin' awesome that I have no problem doing three projects. It's tickling my creative gene to HAVE to do something, instead of just choosing to do something. And all this would be fine if that's all I had to do. But no, oh no. I have also been assigned a list of businesses to try to cajole freebies out of. Now when I was a teenager I hated asking for something because I thought people would freak out and chase me with an ax or something, but now as a responsible adult I realize that the worst they can do is say no. Unless, of course, they are secretly ax murderers, in which case all my teenage angst will come to fruition. (Ooo, that's a .25 word. Everybody has to send me a quarter.)

I will contact all my businesses but, if you have a business and you want to rate at the top of my awesome-o-meter you can donate something for our school auction. If you have no business and still would like to rate at the top of my awesome-o-meter do not despair! You too, may donate something cool to the auction. If you actually do this (and I'm totally holding my breath, ready, *deep breath*), I will do a whole post about you and how awesome you are, and your generosity. Oh, and whatever you donate would be totally tax deductible; so the more value to the item the better for you. SWEET!

Okay, I'm starting to turn a lovely violet shade, so get donating!

My Husband and I are Dating

Maybe I should clarify; we're dating each other. Instead of quarterly dates, we're doing the once a week thing. Like we've been Commanded.

Last week we went on a motorcycle ride, had dinner, and watched the sunset, and the full moon rise. And we made out a little while so doing, which is neither here nor there, but was still fun. And we're married, so we can do that and not be embarrassed about writing about it for all the world to see. Or at least, I'm not embarrassed. And Ryan doesn't read this, so...

Yesterday we went rock-climbing, which involves large amounts of exertion and sweat and trust, and usually large amounts of swearing from me, though not this time. It was a lot of fun to be together without the kids. I haven't been in a couple of years, so it was a good to get out there and refresh my memory of belaying and climbing techniques, etc. Plus, I have my own rock climbing shoes (that totally made me feel like a Japanese woman from the 1800's because climbing shoes are suppossed to fit tightly) so I looked awesome. I'm sure I really impressed all the little boy-scouts that were hogging all the routes that we wanted.

Next week it's Ryan's turn to plan the date, right down to getting a babysitter. It's suppossed to be something that the other person wants to do; kind of a making-you-think-about-your-spouse sort of thing. It'll be interesting to see what he comes up with. He keeps asking for hints about what I would like to do, and I just look at him and smile.

I'm a little bit mean.

So, hiatus over. Don't ask. Please.

I grew up in a rural area. We lived on two acres and over the course of my childhood had a pony, a horse, dogs, cats, and a multitude of beef (you know, steers. No? how 'bout this: boy cows that have been fixed). Anyhow, I remember feeding the little baby cows from a bottle, and I remember tromping out to the barn and feeding them hay and grain in the winter. I've worn barn boots in cow crap, I've seen hornbuds be cauterized, and I've seen the little rings put on the boy parts to make them, well, no longer boys.

This is part of my upbringing, it's part of my children's heritage (in a loose interpretation of the word 'heritage'). So why do they hate animals so much? I went to the fair with Lincoln the other day and walked through all the animal barns. He cried everytime we went into a new barn. He didn't like the goats, he didn't like the chickens and geese, he especially didn't like the cows. We didn't even attempt the pigs or the horses. I did get him to touch the sheep. But the rest of the time - argh! And the thing is there was fresh sawdust in all the barns, there was no big smell problem going on. He just. Didn't. Like it.

Caden is the same way. Every time the Jr. Livestock show happens Daddy always thinks it'll be great fun to take the kids and see the animals. Except they hate it and everyone whines and complains until you feel like trading them in for one of the cute little cows. At least we could eat the cow if it whined - not so with the children.

So what up fellow bloggers? (that's not a typo, that's my hip lingo, which I've already posted about...) Are mine the only ones? Any heritage shunning activities going on with your offspring?

Absent

I'm taking a hiatus for personal reasons. Sorry.

NieNie Recovery Fundraiser

So, I'm participating in Navel Gazing at It's Finest fundraising book for the NieNie Recovery Fund. This is not someone that I know, but it's a tragic story and I feel for this family. If you would also like to participate click on the links and follow the rules.

People I Actually Know That Should Be Doing This Because They're Funny:

Sheena - send your bike ride to the park post
Melanie - send your First-ling of our flock (w/o pictures) and/or A Girl Named Hot Chocolate
Holly - send a scaled down version of School Days about Alex and the power of smelling

And anyone else that I don't know your blog backwards and forwards, send what you've got that's funny. Interesting side note: if you send an original entry by Friday you could win $50 (not from me, from Sue at Navel Gazing).

It's a worthwhile cause.

How could they leave him unprotected like that!

Tom Brady is out for the season. The FOOTBALL season. I am so bummed because I love Tom Brady. He is one of the three reasons that I watch football. The other two reasons I watch are Bret Favre and Peyton Manning. So imagine my dismay that Brady is out, and Favre retired but then un-retired only to go to another team to MAYBE play. How will I get through the season? How will I know who to root for? What's a girl to do?

I do have to say, for those of you who think I'm insane (because I'm a girl, and girls don't watch sports) that football is the only sport that I can get into. It's very Goldilocks & The Three Bears for me: Baseball is too slow, Basketball is too fast, but Football is just right. And hockey is really only good in person (have you seen the blood bounce on the ice?) Plus, my husband is a student, and after 10+ years of marriage (I get to add the + because we're into our 11th year) I miss him when he's studying, and dumb as it sounds, watching football makes me feel like he's in the room with me when he's not.

I will try to look on the brightside: perhaps there is a new, hot, young, recently discovered quarterback just waiting to make my season. Don't be afraid to give me a heads up if you notice one. In the meantime, I'll be crossing my fingers, and my toes, and my eyes, and my legs, and my arms...

just a quick note...

Yes, you're looking at Kendra's layout. But in all fairness, she was done with it and she gave it to me. And now I'm happy, because I've been coveting it for as long as I've been blogging. Go ahead, make fun of me. Just don't forget that now it's mine. Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine.

Thanks Kendra!

Where Would You Guest Star?

I could totally be a patient on House. Except I'm not dying. And I'm conscious. But other than that, I'm there. I have always had weird medical things happening to me. Like the time I was in 8th grade and bit my lip and it swelled to huge proportions instantly. Or the time I had such excruciating light sensitivity in my eyes that I couldn't drive and had to wear sunglasses in church. Or like right now when I have some sort of something up with my hands that I can't wear jewelry and they're all red and itchy gross. (GOOD MORNING! Hope you haven't eaten yet!) This time I thought I had eczema brought on by pregnancy, but I'm almost 7 months post-partum and it's only getting worse. So, off I go to the doctor for some serious professional help (which we all know I need), and hopefully some miracle cure because this is really, really annoying the you-know-what out of me.

Especially since I really like jewelry. I'm a ring person. I had really cool rings before I got married and then in a burst of romanticism I threw them in the bay when we got engaged because I didn't need any other ring than the one he gave me. (insert romantic sigh here.) Except I had this really cool silver ring that ten years down the road I want back but I can't find it anywhere. Oh, and my wedding ring. I really would like to wear that one again. Of course, Ryan hasn't worn his in the same amount of time that I haven't been able to wear mine. His issue is that he's gained so much weight that it doesn't fit anymore. Which really means it just needs to be sized. And it's not like he's really gained all that much. I like to tell him that now he looks like a person instead of a praying mantis.