Sleight Of Head

Wanderlust

Sometimes I get the itch to go somewhere new so badly that it kind of supercedes all other thoughts for awhile. Often it comes out of nowhere, this desire, and it sticks like glue. I'll go online and search for houses in other areas. I see what kind of a house I could get in say, Plano Texas, or Boise, Idaho, and then I feel discontent for awhile. I keep thinking: three times the house for half or even a third the price!! Closet space!! A room for everyone and even extra!! Space!! Several houses had four living spaces, whatever that meant---I don't know, but it sounded good to me. A couple of them had a guest cottage. (And yes, it does occur to me that it's that much more house to clean. But hey!! I could hire a housekeeper!)

Where does it spring from, this wanderlust? I think perhaps it has its roots in childhood, my childhood. We moved quite a bit when I was a kid, for various and sundry reasons, and it seemed that after a few years in a place, I was itchin' to move on. Part of me was. Part of me longed to stay in one spot and develop friendships and have roots. But the other part---the gypsy side---kept looking to the horizon.

Also, every summer for quite a number of years, we traveled to visit my grandparents in the midwest. It was a several-day car trip, and I still remember those trips as the highlights of my childhood. Oh, I'm sure I've forgotten the long boring hours, etc., but I remember the Kansas wheatfields. I remember the long, lonely stretches of road that went as far as the eye could see. I remember the Colorado Rockies and the New Mexico deserts. I remember them in my mind's eye with a kind of ache. Hey! I sound like a country song. Sometimes I feel like a country song.

I don't think we'll probably ever move, though, at least not for a long time. For all sorts of reasons: The kids are settled in their schools and there's never a perfect time to go. If it would be a good time for one of the kids, it'd be a real bummer for another (school/grade-wise). There's no burning need to go anywhere else. There isn't one particular spot that we've always been dying to live. My husband isn't exactly known for making any sort of spontaneous decisions (Thank goodness! Most of the time, thank goodness,) and by the time all the research would be done, I'd probably have changed my mind. It's been so long now since we've been anywhere else that I'm not sure if I'd really have the courage to go someplace new at this point anyway. Which bothers me somewhat. I don't like the "rut" feeling of that. I don't want to stay because I'm too scared to spread my wings. I don't want to stay just because it's easier when maybe there's a really great experience out there, waiting.

And yet. There's a lot to be said for blooming where you're planted. For being content. For living in the moment. For appreciating what you have. For the great experiences right in the present spot. I do know that; I just forget sometimes. And I do know that the grass is never greener....

but the houses are a little bigger (she said in a sing-song-y voice). More space. Ahhhh....

Crazy Like A Fox

So apparently here's what you do if you've been arrested in another country, a country where perhaps you don't want to risk jail time: you confess to a crime that happened here--it has to be a fairly significant crime, mind you--and then you get whisked back to the U.S. (first-class, if you're lucky), face the media hoopla here, became famous and infamous. The authorities then discover that hey! you didn't commit the crime, and you say "aw shucks" and they say, "well, bye now" and off you go on your merry way. What a coup! Skipped out on a most likely quite frightening jail experience in another country (one where I'm sure that criminals' rights aren't a huge consideration), got a free ride home, suffered a few inconveniences, but over all---none the worse for wear.

Okay, I guess it doesn't go exactly like that, but it's not too far off if you're John Mark Karr. But to make sure it still sounds good once charges are dropped and you're pretty much safe, keep insisting that you committed the crime. It makes for a good story, you don't totally lose face and the fact that you're probably completely crazy still isn't a guarantee.

It sounds like there were things that definitely made John Karr seem guilty or at least, extremely suspicious. I'm glad that he faces other charges unrelated to the JonBenet Ramsey case so that he doesn't get to just merrily go on his way, as mentioned. And I wonder how many more incidences of impropriety---and worse---are going to emerge about this man who clearly is sick and shouldn't be allowed ANYWHERE near children.

Just one more strange twist in this as-of-yet unsolved tragedy.

A Pinky Finger's Worth

My incredibly talented niece drew a picture of me for my blog. The similarities are: I have blonde hair and wear glasses. I'm not quite as lovely-looking as her picture would suggest. But isn't it good? And she did it on the computer with the mouse---a pencil wasn't anywhere nearby. You should see what she can do with a pencil! If I ever figure out how, perhaps I'll link to some of her stuff. What I'd give for a fraction of her talent, just a smidge.

Nice Try, Though

Tomorrow my 10-yr-old and 8-yr-old start school (my 16-yr-old started Monday). The hoots and hollers of celebration that you'll hear around 8:30 tomorrow morning will be me. But anyway, like I was saying, they start school in the morning, and my 10-yr-old is completely stuffed up and coughing. Not ONE. TIME. during the summer did he do this. Not once. And then today, the day before school starts, he's got a terrible cold. I think it's from having the fan blowing on him the last two nights as he's gone asleep. That's what I'm guessing. Because there's no way that he can be allergic to school.....Right?

It Makes My Blood Boil!

Today I saw a girl smoking. Bad.

Today I saw that girl smoking and she was pregnant. EVIL!!!!

It makes me so mad!! To be so careless and so ignorant and so self-centered and so unhealthy. Why isn't that considered child abuse, I'd like to know? Why do people like her get pregnant when there are so many desperate women---women who would be careful and healthy and safe and thankful---who can't? Unfair.

And of course---in true smoker fashion---as soon as she was done furthering the damage to her unborn child, she tossed the cigarette on the ground. Naturally. I mean, where ELSE do you put a cigarette??

Wait! Stop Before You Take Another Bite!

(Pardon My Planet comic strip)


Which is precisely my point!! I love this comic. Because who in this world could actually possibly know what Mary looked like? How come no one ever sees a likeness of Elizabeth? Or how about Peter? Herod? Judas? A relative? (I know, I know. I recently posted about this. But this comic brought it to mind again.)

The one that really takes the cake is the most recent "sighting" of Mary in a collection of chocolate drippings. Chocolate drippings. Peek in at a factory in Fountain Valley, California, and you'll see them all gathered around the chocolate drippings bearing the likeness of Biblical Mary, saying prayers and leaving gifts.

Can we all say together: g-u-l-l-i-b-l-e.

I suppose this comes across as harsh and condescending. It just strikes me as so irreverant to think that somehow chocolate drippings or any other like object is going to have some sort of spiritual relevance. And as far as the gullible aspect, I know that there are many people out there who think that anyone with any sort of faith or belief in God is gullible. Be that as it may. I think there's a big difference, however, in having a faith that has proved itself real by personal experience---feeling the power of it in your life---and seeing Bible subjects in food items.

I think I saw my neighbor just yesterday staring at me from out of my cereal bowl.

The Adoring Public Needs To Know

So is it just a publicity ploy, a stunt? Is it simply a matter of wanting privacy, and it's no-one's business? Is she not "normal" as overactive imaginations and The Enquirer reckon? What's the deal? Where's the famous and infamous baby of Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes....does she exist?? (dramatic music at this point)

Will we ever know? Do we care?

Sainthood

I have been sitting in one room of my house, overhearing a discussion in the next room between my husband and my 16-year-old. And can I say that my husband is a saint? They're having a discussion about whether my son should get to play a certain computer game that he wants to play (our boundaries are considerably more restrictive than all of his friends' and he thinks that it's quite unfair, unreasonable and unnecessary). For every two words that my husband says, he is interrupted by derisive comments, ADHD changes of subject, annoying random noises and puffs of disgust. By now I would have either strangled my son or run screaming into the night. And still he sits there, my husband, the voice of reason and patience. In a million years, I'll never attain it.

* I have to add, however, that he (my 16-year-old) has made great strides in his ability to have a conversation, an exchange of ideas. There's still a fair amount of progress to be made, mind you, but I don't want to sell him short.

Stuck In A Rut

I've mentioned recently that I've been in a bit of a funk. Can't really pinpoint why exactly, so maybe that's not where the focus need be. The thing is, I seem to be overwhelmingly disappointed in myself, in who I am and where I am. There are so many things I wish were different about myself that I hardly know where to start. I'm unorganized, undisciplined, unfocused, undirected, unmotivated. Un-everything apparently. I'm not the kind of parent I admire, our family life is more unstructured than not, I don't seem to have any personal structure or focus, I rarely finish anything I start.......and I want to change the direction this ship is heading but I don't know how. I want to become someone organized and structured. I want our family to have routines and order. I want us to spend a Saturday doing something fun instead of sleeping too late, spending hours plopped in front of a computer, spending the rest of the day trying half-heartedly to get some work done around the house and then finding that the day is gone. I want to have energy and be nice and talk kindly and be wise with my children. I'm going to be 40 next year, and I've flunked in every category.

Is this a mid-life crisis??

How unpleasant. I thought I'd get a sports car and dress too young and flirt with all the boys. I thought that's how it worked. Perhaps I can't even manage a mid-life crisis correctly. I'm not quite as glum as I sound. But almost. What a downer! I promise it'll pick up from here.

(And this isn't a bid for compliments. Honestly. What I need here are suggestions for climbing out of the hole.)

The Long Skinny Pedal On The Right

Today it was my misfortune to be driving behind not one, not two, not three---but at least seven drivers who were extremely unfamiliar with that long skinny pedal on the right. That's right---the one that makes the car go. I know I'm often in a bit of a hurry when I'm going places, and I have to practice at being patient. But we're talking some seriously slow drivers here. City streets, freeway, airport....it didn't matter, they were in front of me---all those slow, meandering, GPS-checking/programming slow drivers.

You thought that living in war-torn Middle East was a trial...or hoping to have bread to spread among the eleven people living in your dirt-floored shack was hard. (I don't mean "your" as in "yours" but you know what I mean). No. Those things would be hard, it's true.* But I'm not sure if they're anywhere near as frustrating as being stuck behind someone who was scared in the womb by a gas pedal.


A little aside:
Duly noted that this is a gross understatement. Not the intention to be insensitive.

Hmmmmm

This is my last attempt before I just go back to my original template. Tried the black, tried the green. Pros and cons to both. So now it's the dots or bust.

IxNay On The AckBlay

So what about the EenGray? I'm not totally a green person, but I don't mind this template. Or do I just go back to what I had originally?? There wasn't anything wrong with that one, either, but ya know---sometimes a change is good. I like living on the edge....living dangerously.

To Black Or Not To Black

I'm thinking this might be too shocking of a change from my last template. And I don't want black to seem like a representation of the color of life right now (taking into account my wet blanket syndrome). Not so! I like the look but it might give someone whiplash. Decisions, decisions.