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May 2008
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July 2008

A Small Plug (or two)

After putzing around for months I finally, FINALLY, got a button up for my store!  Yay!  (See far right column.)  And it only took several mistakes, one community guideline violation, and copious amounts of help from my friend Winnie.  (Thank you, Winnie!)  I felt bad about that because I really do try to learn on my own before harassing my technical friends.  I’ve had the image done for months, I just don’t know code as well as I should (make that at all) for someone who plays around on the web so much and works in tech.

It’s that knowing theory versus actually knowing how problem.

I also managed to navigate cafepress’ Byzantine system to some sort of minimal understanding.  That took quite a while.  (For the record I do not consider myself to be a dumb person, just highly critical of whether Help documents are actually helpful or not.  Especially as so many web services seem to not believe in providing Help documents much anymore. What’s up with that?)   The store is still a work in progress but I’m becoming happier with my poor neglected project.  In fact, I should be adding more designs very soon. 

Anyway, that’s what I been heads down doing the last few days.  I’m just bragging because I am quite pleased with my progress… I now know how to make a button!  Woo hoo!  (I’m sure all my techy friends are breathing sighs of relief.)  And now I can move onto my next project… making a button for my lovely friends and their blog.  (Buy their cakes.)

           - wg

P.S. I’m not getting paid for this or any other plug, I was just excited.  Though if my friends would like to test out any new cake flavors I will be happy to be their guinea pig.  Thank you.


Way to show me up, you damn box

Our microwave has gone insane.  The thing will not turn off.  Well, technically what it does is turn itself on when you open the door; the fan goes on, the little plate thingy rotates.  You know, the opposite of what it’s supposed to do?  As soon as you shut the door again it turns off.  At first it would only go on occasionally when you opened the door – scared the crap out of me the first couple of times it happened… I’d yelp, shut the door really quick and timidly try to open it again – but now it’s constant. 

Now sure, it might just be the fan turning on, no microwaves shooting around, but it still totally freaks me out.  Every time that stupid thing would turn on (before it was continuous) I swear my hands would feel achy, blisters would break out, I’d feel those little sprained muscles you get right around your joints.

(It could just be from all the drum practice and gardening I’ve been doing but still.  I feel irradiated.) 

Keen keeps using the thing!  Just jabs his hands (and food) in really fast.  Ugh.  I’m so not going there.  In fact, I’m just waiting for his hands to turn green/shoot webs/get xray vision or something.  Because even if it is just the microwave fan not turning off… that can’t be healthy.   I’m almost certain that radiation can be stored in fans and rotating plates.  (It’s, like, science or something.)

The saddest thing is realizing how much Chance and I rely on the microwave for our daily diet.  Keen is OK because Keen cooks.  I, however, am lacking in the cooking gene.  Food that I try to “cook” just doesn’t taste very good.  (Except for baking; I rock at the baked desert.)  Chance is a toddler and eats primarily toddler food… hot dogs, chicken nuggets, canned soup, etc.  These things are so much easier with a microwave!  With the microwave around I felt like a competent and diligent mother.

Now we seem to be ping-ponging between meals of trail mix and takeout corn dogs.

God forbid the rest of the appliances ever revolt.

            - the weirdgirl


Queen Kitschy and Proud

On Friday I turned 37.  This birthday has felt a little weird; the number 37 seems, somehow, a lot older than 34, 35, or 36.  I’m suddenly much closer to being a 40 something.  And that feels weird.  Mainly because inside I still feel 28.  (Sometimes even 24!)  

My joints are laughing hysterically as I type that.  

Despite the fact that for my birthday (and appropriate to my age) we didn’t do a whole lot – went to the farmer’s market, bummed around the house, had a nap then a nice dinner; pretty much how my grandparents celebrate special days – there are a few reasons I still feel pretty young.  And all of those centered around presents!  (you shallow bitch)

Behold!  My new drum stool!!  Ooh ah!

DSC02998 rotated  


Aint it fancy?  It’s soooo cushy for my geriatric tush! 

And… what I’ve been sitting on the last eight months.  (Yep, my ass on the drain doctor.)

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My drum set… wait, have I told you about my drum set?  My drum set is a twice-removed-used set that my brother has lent me that he got from my parents (where it was either given to them by a friend or they bought it at a garage sale – it’s all a little confusing).  The set was (is) beat up and missing a bunch of parts and my brother scraped it back together.  It’s from the 70s and it was featured in a country band.  (I don’t know why I feel compelled to share that.)  It’s also almost so ugly it’s cool.  But not quite.  Which means it’s just ugly.  (Maybe I should bedazzle it?)

 

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 The whole kitschy ensemble being rocked by my boy.

 

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And last but not least, this super sweet corset given to me by my lovely husband (who also gave me the drum stool).  I heart corsets.  If I was a rock goddess I would wear this on stage.  In real life, I’ll just wear it out to a club. (I’m going clubbing again, someday.  I swear!)

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Oh, bless you artificial trappings of youth.   (Thanks Keen!)

              - wg


Burnt on Summer Already

The weather has gotten warm, there is sunlight until nearly 9:00, and I’m wearing shorts every day.  It feels so good you hurry to schedule all those fun activities that are impossible to do in the winter (plus, with the price of gas and plane tickets who the hell is taking an actual vacation?).  Beach trips, parks, zoos, train rides, even chaperoning those lovely preschool field trips.  And did I mention I signed Chance up for swim lessons?  (Yeah.  Keen is taking over that one.) 

Events on paper just look so nice and neat and doable.

Today we went to this local park/zoo place which is really a lot of fun – not to mention a place I went to when I was girl so, you know, fond memories – that is closing down for a year for renovations.  (I figure part of the remodel is because it’s so old and outdated, and part of it is fallout from that whole nasty tiger attack incident in San Francisco.  Nothing spurs modernization like a tiger attack!)  Anywho.  Chance did great on the trip.  A few rough play moments, but then his playdate buddy was another rambunctious kid himself so no worries.  Overall, he did a pretty good job listening and playing and so on and so forth.

Until it came time to leave… then there was a full-blown meltdown.  With teeth.

I swear to god our calendar of events suddenly flashed before my eyes.  It’s a small wonder I didn’t fall down in apoplexy myself.

Here’s the kicker… his friends had left for home and lunch earlier, so I figured a spin around the zoo would be the perfect cap for wind down time.  It was hot so we drank plenty of liquids, I brought a bagged lunch that Chance ate while we were strolling past the meerkats and the monkeys, and I gave him plenty of warning that we would be leaving after the zoo.    

Still.  Had.  Meltdown.

(Of course, by the time we get to the car I’m having a tantrum myself, “If you don’t knock off this behavior we’re never doing anything fun AGAIN!”  Because, you know, that’s helpful.)

Tomorrow is a preschool field trip to the park.  I definitely need to reassess our calendar. 

(On the upside, after we got home and an hour into his quiet/nap time I poked my head into his room to check on him when, without warning, he apologized.  *?!?*  That’s gotta be progress, right?)

                       - wg


Swimwear Must Die! '08

It's time again for the annual swimsuit roast!  This is where I gather samples of hideous designer swimwear  - or even just the pictures I think are amusing - to mock and point at.  And also to warn you all of the dire perils of swimsuit shopping!  Really, it's a nefarious industry.  Trust me, I'm doing this for your own good.

(Though, I admit, I did find a line this year that I really really liked (not that I could afford any of the suits).  Very retro and the line was called... Pistol Panties.  HA!  Pistol panties... that name so rocks!)  

If you are new to this segment of wg's house you can see where it all began here, here and here.  Now on to this year's winners.  

Take me, Q*bert!  Take me!

Qbert swimsuit
Sometimes you feel like a wax... sometimes you don't. 

Wax stripes swimsuit
Too weak... to break... bonds of twine... Help me!

Woven swimsuit
When you just feel like dual purpose clothing... for the slumber party AND the beach!  (Everyone lock up your 'tween daughters now.)

Slumber party swimsuit
OK, now I know the clothing companies aren't trying anymore... I saw this same "bikini" on sale as Valentine's Day intimates!  (And it's not even Victoria's Secret.)

Lingerie swimsuit
Could it be... military intelligence?!

Kgb-swims
Who says you can't get gift wrap services anymore?

Gift wrapped swim
Happy Father's Day!
       


The Epiphany

Today I showed Chance how to do a somersault.  He was balancing on his head, see, with his butt up in the air, watching TV upside down and all he needed was to push off a little for a somersault.  I'm actually trying to encourage him to do more fun, physical activities (other than jumping up and down on me and his father) as a great way to burn off and focus his energy.  So when I saw him balancing like that I thought, "Great!" and I proceeded to get on the floor and show him how it's done.

(I used to be all about the somersaults and the flips and running along the tops of fences, and even the oh-so-groovy jump, turn, and land on one foot while rolling on my roller skates, you know.)

I did two somersaults for him.  One.  Two.

Three hours later as I'm sitting with the heating pad across my back it sinks in...

Somersaults are for the young.

              - the weirdgirl


On the Good Ship Ninnypop

Stella at Finding Zen sent this to me a few days ago.

Download breastfed_ashley_full_segment.mp3


It reminded her of this post I wrote... but, oh, SO. MUCH. WORSE!  It took me a few days to post this because my head had exploded.  Really, you must listen.  And now... let the wild rumpus start! 

Warning: Mishandling or over-prescribing ninny may result in your children growing up to be munchkins.  It may also cause them to be virgins until they are 25 (...or 26, depending). 

Coming soon the new cookbook, "Pa-ninnys!  The easy way to whip out comfort food"   My favorite is the hot sauce and nipples appetizer.

I see... I see... Ninnypalooza!

Has Paxil, Zoloft, or other antidepressants stopped working for you?  Well now there's Ninny!  An instant pick me up to any stressful situation!  But wait... isn't ninny meant for babies?  Not anymore!  Now Ninny can be used at any age!  Try some today!  (Product is not guaranteed to come with milk.  Side effects may include becoming ostracized or slapped with a molestation suit.  Studies show Ninny is most effective on men and lesbians.)

Ninny... you can't suck just one.

Have at it, folks.            - wg


So harsh it hurts

I am so frustrated right now.  Chance, after no incidences biting other children since this, has suddenly started biting at preschool, just in the last week and a half!  He's been doing so well in his new class, and he hadn't bitten anyone even when he was in the younger class where he was having problems.  He's been bit himself quite a few times, but you'd think that would be a lesson in "biting is bad", right? 

This thing keeps popping up in waves and it's so frustrating.  However, previous phases have only been directed at me and his dad... he has a tantrum, or gets really upset, and tries to bite.  One phase was when he was really young and then stopped.  Another phase happened right before his verbal skills really took off and then got better as he gained more words (except for the occasional freak out, absolutely ballistic tantrum).  We haven't seen any biting in a while and thought he was past all that.  And now it seems to be back. 

So what I'm doing (and what I did today) is picking him up from school as soon as he bites.  He loves school and he really looks forward to going.  He asks to go and I know he'd probably love to go more than twice a week.  However, I told him that if he wants to do fun things like play with his friends there can be no biting, and I told him if he did it at school I would pick him up.  So there you go, I'm following through.  Even though it feels rather harsh (not to mention expensive and wreaking havoc on my work schedule).

Here's the thing... I know he knows it's wrong, I think he's impulsively reacting without thinking, and I think he's sorry after he does it.  But I also think he doesn't really believe there will be consequences.  Or at least, consequences that affect him emotionally and are far reaching (i.e. going to the director's office until he calms down is not a consequence that has any impact on him).   

Apparently today when the director got off the phone with me and told Chance I was picking him up and that he couldn't go back to his classroom he started crying.  He cried until I got there. 

You really can feel totally pissed off and broken-hearted at the same time.
                   - wg


The Resolution (or maybe an experiment)

No more TV.  I mean it.  Except for Battlestar Galactica and So You Think You Can Dance (of course).  And all the wholesome children’s programming from which I have no escape.  In my mind I’m having productivity issues and I’m wondering what would happen if I just stop spacing out in the evenings watching crap (because really is there much on right now that isn’t crap) – ‘cause what I try to do, see, is put off certain activities that need some quiet time, such as work, until the evening when I know everyone will be asleep but then I’m tired and I have the TV on and its constant babbling is SO SOOTHING that I end up staring at it, with maybe a little drool tinkling down my chin gently like a meditation fountain, until it has sucked up 2-3 hours easy.

It occurred to me tonight, as I first watched Material Girls (gack!) before channel surfing and then landing at the old standby Adult Swim, that maybe I should just shut off the TV.  And then I wouldn’t hear it anymore.  And maybe I could do something else.

Yeah, I’m bright like that.

It also occurred to me tonight that whenever I sit down for “just a minute” to unwind and get my energy back… that I never get any energy back at all.  I just get more tired.  What’s up with that?

I’m also really tired of whining on my blog.  Because it feels like that’s all I’m doing.  (I’m tired, I’m sick again, I’m not pregnant, wah wah wah.)

(If I stop being hard on myself I really WILL just watch crappy TV all the time, you know?)

So if I replace my “wind down” time in front of the TV with a quick workout do you think that will help get some energy back?  Any good “pick me up” suggestions?

Take that, rut!  And your sweaty butt groove, too! 

                 - wg

                 

P.S. I registered for BlogHer ‘08!  Yay!

P.P.S. Wait… Ghosthunters.  I will keep watching Ghosthunters.  Just keeping it honest.