10 things I’ve done I wouldn’t want to repeat…ever!

I loved this meme over at Obi-Mom Kenobi’s blog a couple of weeks back, and I’ve been meaning to get around to posting it.  In the craziness of this week, a meme is about all I can hardly “eke out”, so hear goes…

1. Extreme pettiness. The year was 1982.  Middle school.  State cheerleading finals.  (Yes, and no, I do not still fit in the outfit, much to hubby’s dismay)  It was our squad against theirs.  We needed something to nudge us over the edge.  So I snuck in their rooms and poured grape kool-aid into the other team’s shampoo bottles.  They won anyway…Barney-colored hair and all.

2. Extreme learning curve.  I’m pretty sure I was meant to live in NYC, or one of those great cities where public transportation is the norm.  I failed drivers ed.  And I had two accidents before I was 17 – – one of which totaled my car.  Plus, I’m night blind.  Me and learning to drive?  Not the best combo.

3. Extreme pain.  If you have never given birth, please stop reading now, because I’m about to scare the bejesus out of you.  Having a C-Section with Uber was the single-most awful experience of my life.  I had a 32-hour labor with H-T.  WAY preferable to that stupid c-section.  I do NOT like surgery, and will avoid it at ALL costs.

4. Extreme stupidity. My best friend growing up had beautiful, flawless, olive-tone skin.  When your complexion proves that your ancestry is obviously from somewhere north of the north pole, you should never befriend a girl with beautiful olive-tone skin.  Because she will tell you that Wesson oil makes the best tanning oil.  And you will believe her.  Because you are 15.  And she is a goddess.  And then you will have to be taken to the hospital for second degree burns.  And then you will spend most of your 30’s checking every mole for signs of growth or discoloration.  Not good.

5. Extreme danger.  My hubby loves to explore the unknown.  We have always taken the road or path less traveled.  So, it wasn’t unusual for us and our 2 and 4 year olds to be heading out hiking the mountainous treks on a weekend.  What was askew was my hubby taking off ahead of us, and leaving me to navigate a three foot wide track of land with a sheer cliff below. By myself.  With a 2 and 4 year old.  Closest I’ve ever come to death.  AND divorce.  In the same day.

6. Extremely low self esteem.  I was a child of divorce. And that meant that my dad wasn’t around much.  So of course, I followed every textbook prediction and looked for affirmation from boys in my teens.  Which led me to “go steady” with a really atrocious string of young men.  Not a winner in the lot.  Thank God I graduated high school and somehow broke the cycle.  My first post-high-school beau was R-T.  The epitome of the perfect guy.  I got very, very lucky.

7. Extreme grudges.  My dad’s and my relationship was rocky throughout my 20’s.  He was always struggling with drug and alcohol addiction, and I was always struggling with expecting him to just be “my dad.”  So we had a bad falling out after a particularly frustrating episode on his part and a particularly stressful episode on mine, and stopped speaking.  A few months later my dad took his life.  I never got to tell him how much I love him.  I ALWAYS forgive now.  ALWAYS.

8. Extreme isolation. The early years of homeschooling were quite a learning curve.  Hubby was working a LOT.  I was home a LOT.  I was dealing with one kiddo with a neurological disorder, and one with more energy than a nuclear plant.  I never asked for help, or sought out support.  I just delved deeper and deeper into a slow depression.  Finally, I realized I needed a part-time job.  Presto-change-o.  Happy Topsy again.

9. Extreme naiveté.  We were young.  We were starry-eyed.  We were broke.  So we bought an 85-year-old fixer upper.  10 years later, we are still fixing.  Constantly.  And with no sign of relief in the near future.  We were idiots.

10. Extreme belatedness.  I should have started this blog years ago.  I missed out.  On having somewhere to spill my secrets.  On finding the “funny” in everything.  On meeting you great people.  This blog has been a blessing in so many, many ways.  Thanks for sharing it with me, everyone.

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We Were The 80’s Day!!

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It’s here!  It’s here!

Are you psyched??

October 30 is officially “We Were The 80’s” Day.  Well, even if it’s not officially official, it is still here.  And to celebrate, I’m gonna humiliate myself big time.  I’m gonna post a few pics of my 80’s days.

I’m giving you warning right now that you might need to up your screen resolution to at least 1024 ppi to be able to get ALL of my hair in there…God help you if you don’t have a widescreen monitor, is all I can say.

So here goes…80's_0002 now this was about 1985, I think, and if I’m not mistaken, that was the year that having a raspberry beret, at least, was considered very sexy, according to one Prince.  The suspenders? – – oh, I think I came up with that sexy accessory all on my own. 

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I had to show this picture just because it is so historic.   This is mine and hubby’s first ever date…to my school athletic banquet.  I think a size 28″ belt would have fit around both of our waists and still had room for at least Mary Kate Olson.  Now, unfortunately, the two of us look like we ate poor Mary Kate for lunch last week. 

But at one time, I truly had a waistline.  NO photoshop involved!

 

 

80's_0001Three years after my beret pic, and 437 fashion faux-pas later, I made it to graduation.   Well, my hair was on time, but the rest of me got there about 15 minutes late.  Do you SEE how far back on my head I had to pin that there cap?? God knows I wouldn’t have wanted to smash down even one of those feathered curls.

So I triple dog dare you to join in the fun…post your favorite 80’s pics today, and please don’t leave me alone in my humiliation…

The 80’s – AKA Before the Music Died

Came across Nirvana today and just had to share…

Yes, folks, there is a great website completely devoted to 80’s Music Videos.  Isn’t it awesome that there are other people out there who just get it????

Since I wasn’t really allowed to stay up late enough to watch “Friday Night Videos” back in the day,  this is my first time seeing most of these on a screen bigger than a 13″, and in color to boot – – oh, and at full volume!! (I had to sneak and sit up right next to  my little 13″ black and white telly with the volume turned almost off so I wouldn’t get caught)

For you young’uns who missed out on most of these the first time around:  prepare yourself for a drug-free upper.  This is what music sounded like BEFORE the 90’s, when everyone listened, and then wanted to go shoot themselves. 

ENJOY your 80’s filled day everyone! 

We belong to the light
We belong to the thunder
We belong to the sound of the words
We’ve both fallen under

(Stuck in your head now isn’t it??  You can thank me later)

 

6 Unimportant Things About Me

Ok, so Firefly Mom tagged her blog readers with the difficult task of finding 6 unimportant things about themselves and blogging about them.  I tried to explain to her that EVERYTHING about me is important, but for the sake of argument, I will try and comply with the rules of the game……

(1)  I rotate everything.  When I’m putting away clean clothes, towels, etc., they have to go underneath, behind, or below the clothes and towels already in the closet.  The clean dishes are put away behind the other dishes in the cabinets, and the neglected ones pulled to the front so they can be used first.  Even my silverware is rotated so that it all gets used an equal amount.  Some might call this a sign of OCD, and they would probably be right on the money.  See, I told you this stuff was important.

(2) My boobs are different sizes.  And keep in mind that neither one is a full B cup.  But one is pitifully even more microscopic than the other, and feels jealous most of the time.  I’ve tried to make it feel better by padding that side of my bra, but it backfired on me and now I think I may have given it a complex.  I’m checking into boob therapists, but the only ones I’ve found so far are 50 year old men who look like they might not be sincerely in it for the healing.

(3) I have eclectic tastes in music.  Tony Bennett is my all time fave.  Hands down.  Anything that man sings makes my heart go to goo.  But I’ve also bought or downloaded some seriously diverse tracks in my time.  My ipod, if I had one, would probably have some Rascal Flatts, U2, The Corrs, Alison Krauss, Nickel Creek before they broke up, Alicia Keys, a little John Mayer and a lotta 80’s pop rock.  I have a whole CD collection of Big Band music, too, and my favorite XM channel is Frank’s Place, which highlights the American Songbook.  No one will ever figure me out by looking at my Itunes playlist.  I dare you to try.

(4) I love containers.  Tupperware gives me goosebumps.  Carry-all bags get my heart racing.  You know those wonderfully useful plastic tubs that baby wipes come in?  I’ve got em by the hundreds, and you’d be surprised at how well they hold up after 10 years.  (Scary thought, huh, considering there are probably 8.5 trillion of them currently sitting in various landfills around the earth)my legs

(5) I can’t tan.  I can trace my ancestry back to the Mayflower, and I am an official DAR, so what does that mean for me?  Yep.  A pasty complexion.  Those imperial genes of mine prove that I am Anglo-Saxon to the core, and therefore  will never, ever look good in a bikini.  Ok, so actually my B-minus cup size already secured that status, but even when I was nursing my 2 kiddos and sported a solid C, I would have never been caught dead in a thong at the beach for fear that the reflection of the sun and sand off my skin might have speeded up our current global warming crisis.  (and yes, before you ask me, those are my ACTUAL legs.  It might be wise to now make an appointment with your opthamologist, just to make sure there is no lasting damage)

(6) I type my blog using my toes.  Of course that’s a lie, but wouldn’t that be cool???  And it is so much more interesting than any of this other “unimportant” crud I’ve just shared with you. 

A big shout-out to Firefly Mom, who gave me the idea for this post.  And for those of you who are children of the eighties, like myself, you’ve gotta head over to her blog each Thursday and check out her Thursday Thirteen, which will definitely take you back in a big way.  And for those of you bloggers who haven’t yet been tagged with this one, consider yourself marked, and let us know when you post. TTFN, y’all.