February has been pretty dull. Not a lot going on. March on the other hand? March is going to be nuts. INSANE. I am hosting a baby shower, have beloved friends visiting from Texas, and a wedding to attend in Arizona. That doesn't count that my Mom has the month off and we've planned a couple of excursions. Or that 2 old college friends want to get together for drinks. Or that it's my mother-in-law and sister-in-law's birthday. And there's something else too, but I'm not at liberty to write about it. Just know it's stressful. (and no, I'm not pregnant).
April showers, they bring nervous breakdowns.
Friday, February 27, 2009
Monday, February 23, 2009
Random Monday Thoughts
This time of year, the orange blossoms are in bloom. The scent, for some strange reason, is especially strong at night- and I love the smell. Reminds me of my parents' house, and my high school years, and when I first fell in love with my husband.
In unrelated news, Annie was diagnosed with scarlet fever. A couple of days of bed rest, some antibiotics, and she'll be good as new. After she goes back to school, I will need a couple of days of bed rest and some stiff drinks, and then all will be well.
We had a couple of people over last night to watch the Oscars. (and hopefully not go home with scarlet fever as a parting gift- woops!). We invited an old friend from high school that works in the industry, and was part of a team that won an Oscar way back when for sound editing on Braveheart. This was fun because he knew EVERYTHING that was going on last night. Every joke, every inside tidbit that completely went over my head. We plied him with carne asada, mojitos and sundaes and he educated us on what a DP does, who is well known in documentaries and why Blade Runner is the best film ever.
So if you don't live anywhere near an orange grove, imagine the scents of orange blossoms in bloom. There's really nothing like it. And if you can't- then come and visit!
In unrelated news, Annie was diagnosed with scarlet fever. A couple of days of bed rest, some antibiotics, and she'll be good as new. After she goes back to school, I will need a couple of days of bed rest and some stiff drinks, and then all will be well.
We had a couple of people over last night to watch the Oscars. (and hopefully not go home with scarlet fever as a parting gift- woops!). We invited an old friend from high school that works in the industry, and was part of a team that won an Oscar way back when for sound editing on Braveheart. This was fun because he knew EVERYTHING that was going on last night. Every joke, every inside tidbit that completely went over my head. We plied him with carne asada, mojitos and sundaes and he educated us on what a DP does, who is well known in documentaries and why Blade Runner is the best film ever.
So if you don't live anywhere near an orange grove, imagine the scents of orange blossoms in bloom. There's really nothing like it. And if you can't- then come and visit!
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Friday, February 20, 2009
Bestest Thing Ever
Have you seen the show Mad Men yet? I rented this on a whim- heard a couple of people talking about it and thought it looked interesting. (especially since Doris Day is on our cable radio almost 24-7). Now? I'm obsessed. I love Don Draper. LOVE. I love the costumes, the attention to detail with the set designs, the witty dialogue and F. Scott Fitzgerald meets beatnik/post-war cocktail party repartee of the scripts. This is really, really good stuff.You have just enough time to get caught up before Season 3 airs some time this summer.
In other news, my Lucy saw a concrete truck pouring cement this morning and asked me, "Mommy? Why is that truck throwing up all over the sidewalk?" I should change my name to Mad Mom.
In other news, my Lucy saw a concrete truck pouring cement this morning and asked me, "Mommy? Why is that truck throwing up all over the sidewalk?" I should change my name to Mad Mom.
Monday, February 16, 2009
Lollyblogger's Gift Guide to Happiness
Men, this post is for you. Let me give you a word of advice. Gifts matter. They don't have to be expensive (a dozen roses is pretty pedestrian, really), but they do have to be thoughtful. And they do have to be on time. Only God has the power to move Valentines day to the 15th. Or Christmas to the 26th. Not that I speak from experience.
There are a couple of other points to consider. Gift wrapping scores you points. It kind of blows the whole shebang to casually beckon a birthday girl to the back of your car, pop your trunk and motion to a few shopping bags and say "Happy Birthday!". Or to come bustling into the kitchen on December 24th, and toss someone a Williams Sonoma bag and bluster out a "Happy Holidays." Not that I speak from experience or anything.
If you did happen to forget a holiday, like, well, let me think- your ten year wedding anniversary? It doesn't make the forgetfulness go away by refusing to open your spouse's card. By insisting that you will open the card on a later date when you would "really celebrate." This promised celebration will never occur, and the card that was written for you will sit, unopened, in the kitchen junk drawer for three more years. Until it is thrown away. Not that I know anything about this.
So, to recap-
1. Buy a gift.
2. Wrap a gift.
3. Be on time.
And your holidays will be much happier.
Love,
Lollyblogger
There are a couple of other points to consider. Gift wrapping scores you points. It kind of blows the whole shebang to casually beckon a birthday girl to the back of your car, pop your trunk and motion to a few shopping bags and say "Happy Birthday!". Or to come bustling into the kitchen on December 24th, and toss someone a Williams Sonoma bag and bluster out a "Happy Holidays." Not that I speak from experience or anything.
If you did happen to forget a holiday, like, well, let me think- your ten year wedding anniversary? It doesn't make the forgetfulness go away by refusing to open your spouse's card. By insisting that you will open the card on a later date when you would "really celebrate." This promised celebration will never occur, and the card that was written for you will sit, unopened, in the kitchen junk drawer for three more years. Until it is thrown away. Not that I know anything about this.
So, to recap-
1. Buy a gift.
2. Wrap a gift.
3. Be on time.
And your holidays will be much happier.
Love,
Lollyblogger
Friday, February 13, 2009
Glutton for Punishment
There are times that I'm hesitant to write about what's been going on because it makes me sound like a self indulgent princess. Which, if you know me well, I'm freely happy to admit. But if you do know me, you know that we've worked really, really hard to get to where we are right now. We haven't taken many vacations. Put birthdays on the back burner. I've been with my husband since I was sixteen, and I worked a ridiculously consuming job in New York City while he went to medical school. Then I shifted careers and did a software gig while he finished his residency. We picked up and moved to Texas for two years, and now are trying to settle into life in Orange County.
My point of this laborious history lesson is not to put you to sleep, but to explain that for the last thirteen years- we've been living in a state of transition. Working from one gig to the next, always wondering what our next step would be. I had hoped this transient state would diminish once we got settled here. I was wrong. I'm still wondering when I'll get to a place that feels like home. Maybe never? That's what happens when you grow up a military brat.
Now, for a total princess update. (barf bags ready?). I completely whonked out my back on Goofy's Roller Coaster at Toontown last week. It was humiliating. I lost a lot of mobility, and walked around with a heating pad or a frozen bag of peas around my shoulders. Nothing seemed to help. I finally went to one of those Massage-In-A-Box franchises in a fit of desperation. My massage therapist was a sixty year old guy, with a paunchy tummy and a thin head of hair.
But this guy had fingers of steel. He told me he was going to do some trigger point stuff, and warned me that I would initially feel pain, but that in the end it would all work out. I didn't even flinch. He was disappointed, and tried again. And again. At one point, I think he crawled up on the table and put his knee in my back. I yawned. He kept at it, and kept commenting about how tight my muscles were, and how I may not feel well for a couple of days. I was thinking to myself," Whatever. This is a complete waste of time."
Until it came time to get off the table. I was light headed, dizzy and nauseous. Mr. balding paunch tummy was standing outside the door, holding a glass of water and burst into a fit of giggles when he saw my face. My eyes were swollen and I muttered, "What the hell just happened in there?" When I got home, my muscles were tender, almost bruised. By the next morning, I could already tell that I was getting better.Two days later I can almost raise my arms high enough to put my crown back on. And on Monday? Monday I'm riding that stupid coaster again.
My point of this laborious history lesson is not to put you to sleep, but to explain that for the last thirteen years- we've been living in a state of transition. Working from one gig to the next, always wondering what our next step would be. I had hoped this transient state would diminish once we got settled here. I was wrong. I'm still wondering when I'll get to a place that feels like home. Maybe never? That's what happens when you grow up a military brat.
Now, for a total princess update. (barf bags ready?). I completely whonked out my back on Goofy's Roller Coaster at Toontown last week. It was humiliating. I lost a lot of mobility, and walked around with a heating pad or a frozen bag of peas around my shoulders. Nothing seemed to help. I finally went to one of those Massage-In-A-Box franchises in a fit of desperation. My massage therapist was a sixty year old guy, with a paunchy tummy and a thin head of hair.
But this guy had fingers of steel. He told me he was going to do some trigger point stuff, and warned me that I would initially feel pain, but that in the end it would all work out. I didn't even flinch. He was disappointed, and tried again. And again. At one point, I think he crawled up on the table and put his knee in my back. I yawned. He kept at it, and kept commenting about how tight my muscles were, and how I may not feel well for a couple of days. I was thinking to myself," Whatever. This is a complete waste of time."
Until it came time to get off the table. I was light headed, dizzy and nauseous. Mr. balding paunch tummy was standing outside the door, holding a glass of water and burst into a fit of giggles when he saw my face. My eyes were swollen and I muttered, "What the hell just happened in there?" When I got home, my muscles were tender, almost bruised. By the next morning, I could already tell that I was getting better.Two days later I can almost raise my arms high enough to put my crown back on. And on Monday? Monday I'm riding that stupid coaster again.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)