The Mini Van Soap Box

I usually avoid the end of the year retrospective posts. I'm not entirely sure why, probably because I don't DO anything, or accomplish anything - so a "year of the end post" for me would mostly be "Hey, another year of doing jack shit! Yea ME!" But 2009 has been....well, interesting.  To say the least.

Actually, it's kind of sucked to tell you the truth.

I mean we've certainly had some good times, and there are some fond memories that I have that I can look back on - but for the most part.....2009 can suck my ass.

I got out of work early today, drove home and spent some time going through the last year of posts.  I think it's kind of interesting to go back and see where you were 12, 10, 6 months ago....

I've spent a LOT of time worrying about my brain exploding with these damn migraines...I don't even want to think about how much money we've spent this year on doctors, drugs and tests. It makes you really pissed off at the end of the year that you didn't get signed up with the Flexible Spending Account on your health insurance....

I lost my Grandmother - which was hard when it happened - but now it seems to be hitting my daughter.  Out of no where she'll start to cry about never being about to see her Great Grandmother again - and it's so difficult to explain the idea of forever and heaven to a small child...especially when their deepest concern is "But Grandma will never drink juice again!".

Not all was bad however - I blamed the Easter bunny for not coming to our house - which in my book makes me a freakin' ROCK STAR.

I saw a license plate that said "I C GAY PPL" I have looked for this person EVERY DAY since then - and I haven't found him yet. I'm dying to know if he only see's Gay People in his car...Or if he see's them everywhere! Or if they are, like the movie, and only dead gay people? You can't put something like that on your car and not explain it.

I, like many others, deleted the Gosselins from our lives forever - and apparently not a moment too soon.  What sucked was that I actually had to have a sit down chat with my daughter about why she wasn't allowed to watch it anymore....But I'll still let her watch Survivor and Lost.  Because THAT'S quality programming, kid!

I admitted to the world that I MAY have a slight anxiety issue, went to one therapy session - decided that I hated that women - and haven't gone back since. Since then I have met so many people with anxiety worse than mine that I think I may actually be the only normal person around.

And, of course, I talked about my vagina.  A lot.  My parents really love that.  It's why we don't talk about my blog "in public".

So, we look forward to the close of 2009 with no party or big celebration planned. Chances are we won't even stay up past midnight. We'll go to bed and pray that 2010 won't suck as much ass as 2009.

How was your year?

I meant to do this last year, but for one reason or another I didn't. I'm sure it was an important reason....I'm sure if I tried really hard I could come up with one - but let's just chalk it up to drinking too much around the holidays and I just plum forgot about it.

As much as I despise the damn thing - we have a fake tree.  It does have it's advantages, I'll give you that.  We don't have to go out in the 10 degree weather, fight over a tree, haul the freakin' thing home and then pray we don't kill it - or worse - burn the house down because I won't turn the lights off.

Because, really, what's the point of having the tree if I can't have the lights on all the time.

So, we have a good size fake tree - that takes about two weeks to fluff to the appropriate level each year.  Pretty much by the time it's fluffed to my satisfaction, we getting ready to celebrate my birthday in January and we have to put the thing away.

Every year my husband brings it out, puts it together and puts the lights on.  Then I take them all off and do it again, because he sucks at it.  No, really he does.  I'm sure he does it on purpose because ONE DAY I'll eventually give in and not make him do it - but that will never happen.  I would much rather be a martyr about it.

And now that she's old enough, my daughter helps me decorate. Most of our ornaments all "mean" something. Bought on a vacation, given to us by friends and family.  And that is what I would like to share with you today - some of our "treasures".

Meet Lisa.

Lisa is Here.

Lisa hates coats and owns many scarves. 

Lisa has a T-Shirt that says Team Jacob. I just learned what the means in the last three days. And I don't actually know if she has that t-shirt. But she should. If she doesn't, I'll send one to her.

Lisa says one of the worst places she's been to is D.C. I live there. I'm going to forgive that because I don't particularly WANT to live here.

Lisa is different from me because with 20 million dollars she would, like, do nice things.  I would take all that money and wall paper my office. I would also take pictures of that money and post it here...just because I could.  But apparently Lisa is nicer than I am.

You should read about Lisa.  Right Now. Then say nice things about her. Because just between you and me, I think Lisa has some issues.

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Let's start easy...Ease you in a bit....Where are you right now? What are you wearing? I like to get an idea in my head of who I'm talking to. Office? Couch? Kitchen Table?

Right now, I am sitting at my desk, a desk my father made by hand.  When my parents were moving into a smaller house he was going to give it to Goodwill.  It about tore my heart out of my chest.  I took this monstrosity and put it in my tiny living room and love the hell out of it.  This is where the Blogoddess’ (that’s me!) Magic takes place.

I refer to my brain as my ADHD playground.  I have millions and millions of ideas that run through my head like a toddler on a sugary-caffeine high right before naptime.  Writing things down is the only way I catch one of the good ones to follow through.  Also, I am a single mom and teacher.  95% of my life is meeting the needs of others.  All day, every day, it seems like all I hear is “Mommy, Mommy, Mommy, Ms. B, Ms. B, Ms. B”  and then followed with some request or dire need that must be met like five minutes ago.  I needed a creative outlet for me, the woman, the person with a brain and dreams.  And, let’s be honest, with my smart-assery sarcasm brilliant wit, I needed an audience to bitch to about all the random bullshit I have to deal with with whom to share my enlightenment and sheer brilliance.

Yeah, can you believe that in 5 months I already have 65 followers?  Man, my Bleeps (Blog Peeps), also known as my Lil’ Lovelies, have been good to me.  I am still dizzy with the giddy that I can fool that many people for this long into thinking I have something worthwhile or entertaining to say!

Yea the girls, My Sweet “Little” DD’s, have been there (maybe not always as gianormous as they are now) since I was about ten.  The best damn bra ever is Lane Bryant’s Cacique bra…all smoke and mirrors, baby!  Makes the girls go from mid thigh to out and high!  Nah, I don’t get free shit because I am an independent woman who don’t need no stinkin’ man to get me anything.  I can do that myself.  But, if men want to look at ‘em, go right ahead.  I mean they are HUGE (as my sister likes to remind me).  The joke among my family and friends is that at one point at any given social function someone is going to talk about my boobs.  They are practically members of my “social circle”.

Well, the 100 Things To Do Checklist…#1 MIGHT be a possibility during this Christmas Break.  So, mum’s the word.  But damn, if it doesn’t happen I am gonna be one sad “cougar”.  As for the other 99 plans, I have explored my own city as a tourist with the Macs (my sons); we went to the Laguna Art Museum and a military museum on Camp Mabry this summer.  Also, I was told by a few of my former students just a couple of weeks ago that I had made a difference in their lives.  WOW!  I ate that shit right up.  Oh, yeah, I started dating again and that was a TOTAL DISASTER. Looooooong story short: he was a self-absorbed, 45 year-old confirmed bachelor who had no clue about single mothers, which I found out on only the second date.  Never trust a man who starts a conversation about single moms and their kids with the phrase, “This ain’t my first rodeo.”  DUMB. ASS.

After seeing my students read this book for about two years I wanted to see what all the Hoo Ha was about.  Twilight sucked me in after reading the first chapter.   I read the series TWICE in less than three weeks.  Yes, there are vampires, but blah, blah, blah.  I am into the wereboys  werewolves, all russet skinned and ripped.  Sighhhh.  Vampires are ice cold like stone.  Wereboys, um, I mean werewolves are hot-blooded and, oh, so lovely.  Just tell your readers I am TEAM JACOB.  They will know what I mean.

Best place ever?  Chicago.  I went this summer with my childhood BFF and we had a blast.  It appealed to me as a world traveler, a teacher, a mom, a single woman on the prowl…well, as much as I prowl. 

Worst place ever?  I am not a huge fan of New Orleans or Washington DC.  They are not horrible, but they just did not get under my skin.  Some cool places and nice people, just not my cup of tea.

I will celebrate MY VERY HAPPY DIVORCE 10^th ANNIVERSARY in April of 2010.  Yep, I have been single for 9 ½ years.  Single parenthood had to work for me because my “X” is practically non-existent in the boys’ lives.  I have my shining moments and then there have been times I am glad there are no cameras in my house.  I had to repeat to myself “You are the adult.  You are the adult.”  Know what I mean?  I just have meltdowns and become human, instead of Super Mom.  Nothing has really changed since I was first divorced because I am still the Boss of Me and I get to make all of the decisions.  Perhaps the thing that has changed is the Macs can pee, poop, get a bowl of cereal, clean up a mess, and dress themselves.  I might have to ask like a gazillion times, but they can do it without my having to do it, much to their chagrin.

I keep it a secret because I want to keep my job as a teacher.  I don’t want to open myself up for lawsuit happy people.  I buy my sister, my close friends, and myself each a house.  I take several trips over the next few years with my family and friends.  I pay off my minivan.  I donate a shitload of it to various charities, many of them having to do with children and Africa, but most of my money goes into savings with my dad being my business manager.  My Dad is the shit when it comes to money and he really is the only man I trust with my life and my money.   I don’t want my life to change drastically.  I love my life the way it is.  Don’t get me wrong.  I won’t turn down the money, but I don’t want to be featured on The Lifestyles of the Rich and Worthless.  I want to make a difference.  I want to make the world a better place.  Aw, dammit.  JOTB is gonna read this and rag on me that Ms. America wants her crown and sash back. But I really do feel this way.  Shhhhh, don’t tell anybody that the Blogoddess has a heart.  I have to protect my cyber creds. 

It's not every day you get interviewed by someone....It's hard not to feel a bit special about the whole thing.  Yes, yes...it's an "experiment" set up by Neil over at Citizen of the Month where hundreds of people are participating...but it's still pretty damn cool when someone takes the time to read your blog, put together questions and then tell THEIR readers about you.  And from the looks of it - he and I have very different readers.

This was even more exciting for me since last year, during the same experiment, I got the opportunity to interview Carmen from Mom to the Screaming Masses...(which despite forgetting about one of her children, worked out pretty well)...But the person that was supposed to interview me never followed through.  SO.....this really made up for that.

He's already a favorite of mine...But that's because he said I made him laugh....Oh, he's also from Texas. All he has to do now is show up at my front door with a six pack and I'll leave my husband.

underOvr posted his interview with me today.  Go check it out


I'll be posting my interview with Lisa early next week...So, make sure you come back for that as well.

I have to take something I've said back. While although I have no intention of ever writing a book - a brilliant idea came to me while vacationing this last week that is going to force me to go back on that.

We vacation at Disney probably every year....Even before we had a kid.  We are big Disney fans. Myself more than my husband, but over the years he's become more and more of a "believer". In fact, we were even married there...as was my sister before me.

Sidenote: If you get the chance, and aren't married - I HIGHLY recommend it. I didn't lift. A. FINGER. I planned my entire wedding over email. Hell, if you've got the money - you can close the freakin' Magic Kingdom down and have fireworks just for you.

So, we are what you would call Disney experts.  There have been people in the past that have asked "I'm going to Disney in a few weeks, got any advice?" My response is always "Are you sure you want me to answer that?" Because...I have advice. Strange thing it - no one ever takes it. They always end up coming home with war stories, bunions, blisters, pissed off kids and parents that are seriously considering divorce. 

Two biggest pieces of advice I can give you.

1.  Chill the hell out.
2.  Buy some good shoes.

This is where my brilliant idea comes in.  I can not TELL YOU how many 3 inch heels my mom and I saw this last week.  She and I even have this look that we give each other that means, "Holy Shit Mom, look at that crazy woman in the leopard print heels".  So, I've decided I'm going to start taking my GOOD camera with me from now on - and I'm going to take pictures of peoples feet.

It'll be a coffee table book.  "The Feet of Disney" .... "Shoes of Epcot" .... "These Fools Are Going To Regret This Tomorrow" ... I don't know, I haven't worked the title out yet.  But I gaurantee people will buy it.  Especially if THEIR feet are so colorfully illustrated.

I'm the girl in layers....and ugly shoes.  Jeans, T-Shirt, Sweatshirt and a good ol' pair of walking shoes.  Next time you're there - Say Hi!  I also wear a butt-pack.  I'm SUPER hot.  You'll find us in Epcot, doing the beer crawl through the countries and getting henna art in Morocco.

P.S. My brush with fame.  That's totally the back of a Jonas Brother. I have no idea which one. I didn't realize that there were three until a drove of screaming 12 year olds were pissed that he wasn't there.

P.P.S.  I just asked my husband about the number of Jonas's...Jonasss....Joni....Hell, how many of those kids there are.  He said he heard one left, so there are only two. So, maybe that's why there are only two. We had a five minute discussion about if the actually LEFT, or is just doing a solo album.  We then realized that neither of us give a crap.

P.P.P.S.  It's upsetting that I'm going to get traffic here now because of the word Jonas.