20 years

I recently received information regarding my twenty year high school reunion.

I'm not sure if I will go or not. Although I stay in touch with a few friends from my childhood and youth, I'm not sure I want to revisit that period in my life - albeit 20 years later. Teenage angst can be brutal, particularly if there are other issues in play. I was insecure, foolish, hyper, and loud. I begged for attention and usually got it in all the wrong places. Wisdom has come with age, and my fair share of therapy. I would love the chance to see some of my "friends" from that time - see how they have changed and show them how I have. Yet I don't trust that any of them have changed enough to see the change in me. Therein lies the rub.

It also somewhat irritates me that I even care what they think of me all these years later. I think that implies that I am not over the insecurities that I have tried so hard to overcome. When the Postman saw the envelope in the mail, he said "We're busy that day!" without even knowing the date.

Perhaps he's right.

There's a big world out there. Bigger than prom, bigger than high school, and it won't matter if you were the prom queen or quarterback of the football team, or the biggest nerd. Find out who you are and try not to be afraid of it. ~ Anonymous

What's Agway?

We got about 5 inches of snowfall last night...but that didn't deter us from being at the (outdoor) rink at 9:00am for hockey. The fact that it snowed means the air was probably warmer than it was on Wednesday night, but there was quite a wind this morning. AND, I got stuck in the unplowed parking lot at the rink. Yay me.

Since hockey runs for an hour and a half on Saturday, I told my son I would be leaving for a few minutes to do an errand. I asked my daughter if she wanted to go with me to Agway. "What's Agway?" she asked. "The feed store." (among other things), I responded. She agreed to go and off we went.

As we drove, however, I thought about her question. A year ago we lived in a relatively urban area. About an hour from Boston, and 45 minutes from Portland. Almost anything we needed was just a few minutes drive into New Hampshire. Barnes and Noble was a mere 8 minutes from our house. Now the closest B and N is about 1/2 hour away. We now do alot of browsing and buying online. Even so, with everything available to us before, there is so much we aren't familiar with.

Today I learned more about hockey. I learned why the blades need sharpening, I learned about sock garters, and I learned that I don't get his skates tied tight enough. Hmmmm...the first two I can work with and I know what to do and what we need. The last one? All I can say is the Postman might need to be in charge of tying skates from now on!

Education is the movement from darkness to light. ~ Allan Bloom

$75,000 per minute

That's the profit Exxon Mobil Corp made every minute of 2006. Profit. While consumers are rejoicing when gas prices fall below $2.00 per gallon, some executives at Exxon Mobil Corp. can expect their bonuses to exceed 5 millon dollars. Read that again. Their bonuses. That is in addition to their yearly salaries. When is enough too much?


Capitalism is founded on greed and envy ~ Charles Long

February 1st

Normally this is a tough time of year for me. I find the months after Christmas to be dark, cold, and depressing. They then lead right into the period before my birthday which, for reasons I do not wish to discuss yet, I despise. It has nothing to do with getting older - although that's the premise I hide behind. I think probably only one person knows the true reason.

Anyway.

I am so easily irritated these days. The Diva is in full Diva mode. She honestly has no idea that there are 3 other people living in this house and that the world does not revolve simply around her and her desires. I was discussing the situation with the Postman last night, wondering when that all might change and he replied "Not until she's about thirty." God help me.

Beyond these four walls, it seems the world has gone mad. Or madder. The big news of the week: Tyra has gained weight. Seriously? There are so many problems with making that the issue of the week. There is a war going on in Iraq. There are peace rallies taking place in Washington. But Tyra gained some weight folks. Don't get me wrong: I am beyond pleased that she is fighting back. It's high time someone like her stood up and said "It's ok!" But...I still can't fathom that's what made big headlines this week. Is it because we have become so numb to everything else that's going on that we needed a diversion such as this? Side note: If I looked like Tyra does, I would be thrilled! She looks fabulous. And she's intelligent to boot.

It's time to get moving. Volunteering at school today and running errands after that. It's a balmy 8 degrees F this morning so it shouldn't be too bad.

This is a youth-oriented society, and the joke is on them because youth is a disease from which we all recover.—Dorothy Fuldheim

-8.6 F

That was the temperature this fine morning when the Captain and the Diva went out for the bus. Welcome to January in Maine. No one should really complain about the cold - thus far it has been a fairly mild winter. So mild, in fact, that the first night of rec hockey was last night. The outdoor rink was not able to freeze properly until now due to the mild weather.

I am so not cut out to be a hockey mom. With my luck, this is the sport that will become the Captain's passion and we will be out there every day, every winter, from now until he goes to college. Even the high school varsity team uses that rink to practice on, so there is no reprieve in sight. The Captain seemed to love it and enjoy himself...so it may be in my best interest to stock up on thermal underwear and wool socks. I also have a lot to learn as I have never been a great follower of ice hockey. Luckily for me, I got my hands on the "Parent's Introduction to Youth Hockey" pamphlet from a rack in the dressing room.

The captain did very well - surprisingly well - during this first attempt at hockey. Although he was on his butt alot, he was also on his feet alot and was even able to handle the puck when it came his way.

Tomorrow night the Diva will go to her first figure skating lesson. I hope her results are as good as the Captain's. She gets very, very annoyed when her little brother does something better or quicker than she does. I didn't realize just how annoyed until very recently when she had to come up with a list of writing prompts. The subject was something along the lines of "Ten worst moments in your life". Number one on her list was "My brother learned how to ride a two wheel bike before I did."

Two days left in the month. I should be working, not blogging. Unfortunately, all the turmoil in the office lately has taken it's toll mentally and I just can't muster up the motivation I need to stay focused. That's from someone who works from home - I can't even imagine what life in the office must be like right now.

Hockey is a tough game. ~ Bobby Orr

iStJ

Introverted
Sensing
Thinking
Judging

iStJs are often called inspectors. They have a keen sense of right and wrong, especially in their area of interest and/or responsibility. They are noted for devotion to duty. Punctuation is a watchword of the iStJ. The person by whom others set their clocks is likely to be an iStJ.

They are easily frustrated by the inconsistencies of others, especially when the second parties don't keep their commitments. But they usually keep their feelings to themselves unless they are asked. And when asked, they don't mince words. Truth wins out over tact.

Famous iStJs:
George Washington
Andrew Johnson
Benjamin Harrison
Herbert Hoover
George H. W. Bush
Evander Holyfield

Fictional iStJs:
Joe Friday
Eeyore
Cliff (the Postman on Cheers)

It's a good day when I am likened to Geroge Washington, Evander Holyfield, and Eeyore all in the same personality test.

"A little Consideration, a little Thought for Others, makes all the difference. Or so the say." said Eeyore

Snowday

Well here we are...again. The snow has forced the cancellation of school today. First time this school year - not bad considering it's January 19th.

It's January now...I kept up with the blog, for what? 7 whole posts spanning a week or two? Let's try this again.

I often feel like there is so much I have to say, but not the appropriate forum. I guess I still struggle with that the most in relation to blogging. Do I really want all of it out there in cyberspace for anyone to read and comment on?

What has happened since my last blog? School started. My work at home status became permament. The Red Sox did not make the playoffs. The Patriots did - so far. The Democrats took over. The holidays came and went. My children swam with dolphins in Florida. Each day we have settled in more and more in our new lives.

So here we go...another try.

Starstruck

The Postman and I took the Captain and the Diva to a Red Sox game last week. Not just any Red Sox game; it was against the Yankees. Baseball's longest standing, fiercest rivalry. We are a Red Sox family, through and through. We have the jerseys that say "I support two teams...the Red Sox and whoever beats the Yankees." I refer to Bucky Dent as "Bucky f***ing Dent". I rarely utter the name Buckner.

So we left Maine in the wee hours of the morning to make the trek to Revere to ride the T into the city. I in my Tek jersey, the Captain in his Tek t-shirt, the Diva in her Papi shirt, and the Postman in a Sox t-shirt with no allegiance to any specific player (he's a Mirabelli fan....sigh). We arrived at Fenway and were happily making our way to our seats. As we walked through the concourse, I passed Bobby Abreau. (Side note: I don't have a specific dislike for BA...he was just recently traded to the Yanks and hasn't had time to truly piss me off. Plus, he was the Homerun Derby champ last year. So it was a tad exciting to see him strolling through the crowd.) I yelled to the Postman who was a few steps ahead of me and the Captain. The Postman turned to look but didn't see him. He might even have questioned whether it really was Bobby Abreau or not. Until...he turned back around to keep walking then turned back to say "Here comes Jorge Posada." (Side note # 2: I dislike George more than any other Yankee player. Nothing personal. Maybe because he's a catcher and so is Tek...I dunno. A-Rod is a close second on my dislike list what with getting all up in Tek's face.) However, upon hearing the news that Jorge was heading toward us, I leaned down close to my son's ear, told him who Jorge was, and pointed him out. To his credit, Jorge gave my son a little nod when he saw us looking at him. I straightened up to continue on our way...and was literally smack dab in front of Derek Jeter. About a foot away. "Oh my God, it's Derek Jeter!" was the most intelligent thing I came up with to say. He gave a slight smirk and kept walking. I'm sure his thought was "Stupid, hick Red Sox fans." Needless to say...the Postman has not let me forget about my excitement over seeing three Yankees players up close. I try to pass it of as regard for their status as athletes regardless of what team they play for, but that has not cut it with him. In his book, I am now a Derek Jeter fan. So I had to boo extra loudly every time he was anounced during the game...hehehe.

State of the Nation

Red Sox nation, that is.

http://mlb.mlb.com/NASApp/mlb/news/article.jsp?ymd=20060801&content_id=1587773&vkey=news_bos&fext=.jsp&c_id=bos

Ok...so I'm not gonna lie. He is easy on the eyes. But beyond that...there is no catcher better prepared for a game, no catcher that can gear up the pitching staff like he can. Admittedly, I am one of those rabid Sox fans. Even more than that, I am a rabid Tek fan. Have been since the beginning; I'm not one of those female bandwagoners that just jumped on a few years ago when he started to make a name for himself in Boston, so don't even go there with me. And this RSF cannot fathom the Sox making it into the post season with Tek being out for the next 4 to 6 weeks. I hope I am overreacting. I am apt to do that at times. Just ask the Postman.

"I think there are only three things America will be known for 2,000 years from now when they study this civilization: the Constitution, jazz music, and baseball." ~ Gerald Early

1. What is your favorite word? I love you (I know, I know...it's really three words)
2. What is your least favorite word? never
3. What turns you on, creatively, spiritually or emotionally? compassion
4. What turns you off? thinking only inside the box
5. What is your favorite curse word? fuck - and very creatively, I might add!
6. What sound or noise do you love? the ocean, my children's voices
7. What sound or noise do you hate? my children crying
8. What profession other than your own would you like to attempt? ASL interpretor
9. What profession would you not like to do? nurse
10. If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates? You belong here? Let me double check my list...

I not only use all the brains I have, but all that I can borrow ~ Woodrow Wilson

When is the 1st day of school?

Today I was wishing school would begin. Seriously. The funniest part about that is that the Captain and the Diva have been in daycamp all week from 8:30-2:30! So, as of this moment, we have been together for about 6 hours today (morning time doesn't really count - everyone is usually too busy to get on anyone else's nerves. Notice I said usually.) The current argument is about notebooks. When we moved, all the art supplies got put in one big box...paper, scissors, crayons, markers, glue sticks, etc., etc. Since the Diva has a desk in her room, I made the mistake of telling her she could store all the art supplies in her desk but that she had to share them with the Captain. Apparently, she heard as far as putting them in her desk...and that made them hers.

The Postman is hiding in the bedroom watching a Clapton concert on DVD. In 22 minutes I will join him. 9:00 pm...summertime magical hour...I will have to start weaning them back to 8:30. 9:00 is too late for the school year.

I think people that have a brother or sister don't relaize how lucky they are. Sure, they fight alot, but to know that there's always somebody there, somebody that's family. ~ Trey Parker and Matt Stone

Smarty Pants Mom

Nothing like a little quiz to enlighten a Sunday morning: Are You a Slacker Mom?

Your quiz results make you a Smarty Pants Mom. Smart parents like you have smart kids. They need plenty of intellectual stimulation and you provide them with all they need, plus lots of love. You know how to help them with algebra homework, and you are superior at kissing boo-boos.

I can't wait to tell The Diva that I'm a Smarty Pants Mom! I think I'll follow it up with "Neener, neener! Told you I was smart!". I'm pretty sure when she rolls her eyes at me this time, they'll get stuck in the recesses of her head.

When The Diva was 6 she asked me how babies are made. I responded that we should take a trip to the library and pick out some books to read about the creation of life. She said she didn't want to. She wanted me to tell her in my own words. I responded again that I really thought we should read a book together. She looked me square in the eye and said "You don't know how it happens, do you?" I lost all credibilty at that exact moment.

I leave you with this:

Raising children is part joy and part guerilla warfare. ~ Ed Asner

What you "should" do...

Man, I hate that phrase. I completely dislike it when someone takes it completely upon themselves to tell me what I should do. If I ask for your opinion...then great, lay it on me. Or if I'm complaining about a situation and you're tired of hearing it, then tell me what I should do and then tell me to shut up. (Whether I take the advice is a completely different matter, but if I am complaining about something, I guess y'all have the right to say "then do something about it!" But I digress...)

I took my car to the garage yesterday. Not quite yet 8k miles but there's a shake in the steering column when I step on the brakes. Rotors, right? Well...at 9:20 (after the car has been taken for a test drive), the mechanic tells me that he might feel a little shake...but not really. I insist that there is one so he goes back into the garage, leaving me in the little waiting room off to the side (not bad digs...leather couches and all...). I had a book, I was happy to sit and read. The Postman called at about 10:40.

Him: "Where are you?"
Me: "At the garage."
Him: "Still? What did they say?"
Me: "That they couldn't really feel the shake but they are still looking at it and working on it."
Him: "What are they doing to it?"
Me: "I don't know. He hasn't come back out since our initial conversation."
Him: "Well, what you SHOULD do is go ask them what they are doing and why it is taking so long."
Me: "No, what I SHOULD do is sit here and wait and not be a pain in the ass to the person who is caring for my car. If you want to ask questions like that, you bring the car in next time. That's not my style."

Needless to say, that was pretty much the end of our conversation. Don't get me wrong...I am not at all passive and I will speak up if the situation warrants. However, being that I know very little about cars, I need a mechanic that won't take advantage of the situation. Since that was my very first visit to that particular garage, I don't think being rude and irritating was really the best route to take.

So this morning:

Him: "What you SHOULD do is take the car out on the highway today to see how it runs."

I'll let you know when that happens!

First post...background history...

So this is it. My blog. I resisted for a long time...lurking on other blog sites, reading about other people's lives. So I thought I'd give it a whirl. I think most of it is coming from boredom. Until recently, I was a single mom, working full time. Now I am still a single mom...although that's not quite true as I do live with my significant other (known here as The Postman)...and I work part time from a home office...and my kids are spending a good part of the summer with their father. So that leaves me with a significant amount of free time on my hands.

I'm not sure what the plan is going forward. Will I blog every day? Will I use the space as a journal/personal diary and allow complete strangers into that very private space? Or will I just write about the daily grind? I haven't figured that all out...I am blessed with the ability to see the humor and ridiculousness of almost any situation so I'm sure that will come into play quite a bit!

For now...I leave you with this...the Captain and his summer 'do.