lists

29 04 2006

I am a list person, for good reason. In a world without lists, I would regularly come home from the grocery without the main ingredient, library books would remain forever checked out, and I would never make another meeting for the rest of my life.

Staying on-task would be an impossibility. I would endlessly drift from one thing to another, like so: 1. start at desk, organizing and planning day (think LIST); 2. find document that must be filled out/sent in immediately; 3. head to study to get vital info for document; 4. along way, find dirty dishes and take downstairs to kitchen; 5. start doing dishes; 6. halfway through head upstairs to laundry room for clean dish towels; 7. in laundry room fold clothes and take to baby girl’s room; 8. straighten room/make bed/find cat in a lump under covers; 9. take cat downstairs to see cool new cat toy found at mall; 10. find Diet Coke can and take to recycling bin; 11. take recyclables outside to garage; 12. find discarded shirt and wonder how it got to garage; 13. on way back inside with shirt find self in garden pulling weeds; 14. Goldens bark at walker with dogs, prompting brain to remember that ‘walking every day’ is on a list somewhere; 15. head in and up to find tennies; 16. see document that must be filled out.

Just realized I was describing yesterday. hmmm. Obviously I did not take list with me when leaving desk.

I’ve often thought of hanging a little chalkboard around my neck. On it I would write my primary goal of the moment. That way, when I found myself organizing the pantry at one in the afternoon, I could look at the chalkboard and see that there was a job upstairs, awaiting my attention. Maybe I would even remember to grab lunch from the pantry before heading off… especially if ‘get lunch’ was written on my hand. Yeah, that would do it.




hootin’ howlin’ hootchimamas (and papas)…

28 04 2006

So my BFF and much adored husband both couldn’t wait to share news they knew would make me giggle. A little history: I have a degree in Journalism, and was always a major news junkie, but was a little too affected by the invasion of Iraq, and swore off my normal fix (Statesman; ABC;CNN) and only checked in w/my not-normal fix (NPR, Lehrer, and a few funky internet sites). Whatever– point is, if you have popular news to share, I probably haven’t heard it.

SO– tonight two of my four favorite people can’t wait to share:

ushRay imbaughLay was arrested today!!!! For DRUGS!!!!!!!!!!!!! HAHAHAHHHAHHEHEHEHHEHsnortHAHAHAHAHAHAWHWHH…
BRAWWWWWWWHAWWWWWWWWHAWWWWHEEHEWWW!!!!!!!




me me me me Meme Too!

28 04 2006

I thank Bookhart for the tag, as I’ve been feeling quite sad and lonely. No comments. I have readers but no comments. Sadness. If I had one of those annoying friggin’ MySpace sites, it would play “Gloom, Despair, and Misery on Me”. Es muy lamentable, si? But NO– I was tagged. It’s like being papered, you know? Proof someone out there likes you. So, thank you Bookhart–

I AM: a mama
I WANT: really great nachos from Nuevo Leon
I WISH: for more time
I HATE: cockroaches AND clowns
I MISS: my babies when they’re here but not here
I FEAR: the current administration (amen Bookhart)
I HEAR: Fat Monroe (Littlest’s cat) snoring on my chest
I WONDER: how the geocentrists justify their line of reasoning
I REGRET: only one thing, and really not that fully– because all of my mistakes landed me here, with my family.
I AM NOT: staid
I DANCE: pretty much every day
I SING: a lot. To the possible embarassment of the babies.
I CRY: during Gilmore Girls. And Buffy. And lotsa books. As quietly as possible.
I AM NOT ALWAYS: awake.
I MADE: my own way since I was sixteen.
I WRITE: not enough
I CONFUSE: capitol and capital, my mom, the rats in the outside garbage can whenever possible
I NEED: to take care of myself again.
I SHOULD: finish my design class tomorrow.
I START: enought things that I drive other people crazy, but
I FINISH: all of them– on my own time– and am not flummoxed by the mess in the meantime. Everyone else is, though…
I TAG: the MonkMan. If he’s still reading. Like I said, feelin’ quite pitiful and such.




A cartoon

28 04 2006

I have a spot in my kitchen (actually the front of an armoire, as it was the only spare space left– think the set of ‘Cats’) where I post things I want the babies to ponder. The Flying Spagetti Monster has as a spot, as does an old Kenneth Cole ad from Vanity Fair, where the two founders of MoveOn.org are pictured about a year after they started the site (with an oh-so-subtle note from the mama about two people changing the world). We also have house rules, various bumper stickers about men changing diapers and such, and a paper I printed about what the world would look like if condensed down to 100 people (things like: 50 would suffer from malnutrition; 1 would have a college education; 80 would live in sub-standard housing. You know, cheery shit ).

So yes, it’s pretty much my moralizing board. In my defense, I don’t force anyone to stand in my kitchen and read it. Anyway, a while back I put up this cartoon (which makes me hoot), and had a great conversation with the babies about what the Constitution is supposed to do (as in guarantee rights– not limit them).

nota bene: Please forgive me Bizarro Dude for not contacting you regarding copyrights and royalties and such. I promise you a share in any future profits from my blog (snicker).




Chuckles Wanted

26 04 2006

And no, I’m definitely not talking about the clown. So, the dishwasher still is kapooey, and I should need cheering up– but the weather is so unbelievably gorgeous it’s impossible to be grumpy. Especially since I can be online and work outside, and completely ignore the sinkful of dishes.

Still, I’m in search of chuckles, and here come two right now:


The boys in the fam are currently replacing planks on the balcony. I’m at the end on a bench, and the Goldens are quite befuddled…

“So, whatcha doin’? Can we come over? Will the floor fall in?”

Being Goldens, they perceive my solitary state as one of abject loneliness. Plus, my hands have nothing to do (typing doesn’t count; only petting the Goldens is worthy work for their humans). So, they braved the scary deck, came over, and kissed me. A lot.

Life with Goldens– it’s the shit.