New Year, New You!

Aww, New Year's Eve....I love it, much like I love September and the beginning of school, for its opportunity of reflection, change, and optimism. So in honour of that spirit, I decided to write a blog and share some of my resolutions for the coming year!

1. Apparently last year I resolved to be more like The Fonz (read about it here). I am most certain I was not Fonz like at all this year, so my first resolution is to make better resolutions.

2.  To always remember where I park in parking lots. Seriously. I just came back from Home Depot, and when I walked out of the store, it was as if an alien mothership just randomly dropped me off somewhere. I had no recollection of parking there AT ALL. So that seems like a logical and helpful resolution.

Dude, where's my car??

3. Go on the Ballerina Diet. What is the Ballerina Diet, you ask? Well, the other day Dani and I went to see The Nutcracker. And obviously I was inspired by the incredible physical build and dedication of the ballerinas. So, I told Droid I was going to become a ballerina (pretty sure that is possible at the age of 34). He replied that I can't, because I am too "big".  More specifically, he said I have too much of a "buh-donk-a-donk". (Does he really think giving it a name that sounds like Donkey Kong is going to make me less likely to scratch his eyes out??) Now, my life mission is to prove Droid wrong whenever possible, so now I have to go on the ballerina diet and lose my "buh-donk-a-donk", because Droid said that is impossible, and he may be right because I have had it all my life no matter what my weight/size, but I can't let him be right so I have to lose it! (Yes that run on sentence was on purpose) And hence, the Ballerina Diet is born. But first I have to eat all of the crap I have in the house. Today.

Why hello there, future Brenda!

4. Last, but not least. To be more negative. To be more pessimistic. I have a real problem with saying yes to everything, and actually thinking it is possible for me to do everything, and be nice to everyone (Droid doesn't count) and it is getting me into trouble lately. Seriously, I don't even want to delete friends from Facebook that I don't talk to, or haven't seen in 20+ years because I don't want to hurt their feelings. And who am I to say they are unworthy of being my "friend". Ugh- not anymore! Plus, I have a problem with internalizing my stress and then I break out in hives. My new motto is "Hive Free for 2012!"

So, I think ending this post on that extremely grouchy and negative note shows I am well on my way! One last thing....

HAPPY NEW YEAR! MAY 2012 BE THE BOMB FOR ALL OF YOU! (but not a real bomb since the world is supposedly going to end this year. I am not using foreshadowing here, just slang)

Am I missing something?

A few weeks ago, I was doing some holiday shopping. I was in a higher end store because I was buying a very important gift. For myself. This was the kind of store where the person helping you wants to know your name so they can talk to you like you are BFFs for life. Then you will totally buy that gift because you don't want to hurt your Bff's feelings right?!! Plus it makes you feel important (not gonna lie, it kinda worked on me. A lot. I bought two things).

So, I told this very helpful, very friendly lady my name. Brenda. (Ps. She asked my name, I didn't just tell her so she could commence making me feel important). As she continued to show me more things that I would totally love, she continued to use my name. Debbie. 

Yep. Debbie. She must have called me Debbie 100 times. I just kept answering like I really was Debbie. Now, I know what you're thinking, "Big whoop, why didn't you just correct her? Why are you blogging about this? Are you that desperate for a blog idea since you haven't blogged since Halloween?" But the truth is, I am blogging about this moment because it is part of a big, strange phenomenon that I have been experiencing my whole life. People always call me Debbie! My whole life! In a variety of contexts and situations! It really is getting strange, and I am really starting to wonder about the frequency of this happening and why...here are some of the possible reasons I have been contemplating...

1. My mom's name is Debbie so maybe people are confused. (This one gets thrown out the window immediately because many people this happens with don't know my mom. Unless.....there is a fight club thing happening here and I really am my mom too?!!!)

2. I majorly look like a Debbie and my parents were the only ones that didn't realize that. 

3. I have a language disorder and whenever I say the word Brenda, it comes out Debbie. 

4. I have a language disorder and whenever other people say the word Brenda, I hear Debbie. 

5. I was Debbie in a past life and all the people that call me Debbie are psychics that get confused.  

That's all I got so far. 

To tell the truth, it got a little awkward at the end of my shopping experience. When I went to pay, my Bff told the cashier that my name was Debbie. Then I had to explain when my credit card clearly did not say Debbie on it. Then she called the credit card company to make sure my card hadn't been stolen. Then I didn't feel very important anymore. 

*Disclaimer* Although a large number of Kindergarten students call me Mr. Lemonade, I do not get confused or concerned that I may have gender identity issues or that I am yellow. Because that scenario seems to only occur within a certain population I deduct that issue may lie with the population.

*edited to say that maybe they are just calling me sour??*

Hall-O-Weenies and the coolest thing ever.

Don't worry, this is not a post about a hall full of weenies. And it's not about a hall. Or about weenies. But it IS about Halloween. And it is about the coolest thing that ever happened.

There are no words for my love of Halloween. The season of Fall, co-mingled with the candy, and the spooks, creates the perfect atmosphere. Growing up I used to have frequent dreams about Halloween. The romantic in me thinks that my love of Halloween, and my reoccurring Halloween dreams were a sign of things to come. A premonition of my soulmate, Droid, who was born on Halloween.  The realist and the sweet tooth (which is actually all of my teeth) inside me say, "Hi. Free candy. Need we say more?"

I can't get enough of Halloween movies, TV specials, soundtracks, or decorations. I just want to close my eyes and absorb all of the Halloweenie-ness in. A crisp Fall breeze, grey rolling clouds, coloured leaves blowing across the grass....LOVE. IT. Come to think of it, it sounds like I love Halloween so much, maybe it is the other way around and I married Droid, with a birthday on Halloween, so I could be closer to Halloween?!

Anyways, this background Halloween love festival information is important for you to understand why I thought what happened to me the other day was the coolest thing to ever happen.

The kids and I, with the help of some neighbour kids, decorated the front of the house for Halloween. Tombstones in the garden, floating ghosts on tree branches and plant hangers, random skulls and rats, hanging pumpkin lights, and a creepy old scarecrow guy sitting in the front.You know, the usual.

Fast forward a few days, and I am getting ready for work that morning, and Dani comes upstairs asking me about the Mummy in the front yard. I'm not sure what she is talking about, because we didn't put any mummies up. I know she knows what a mummy is, so I'm confused as to what she could be mixing up with a mummy. Believe me, with Droid as their Daddy, my kids know their monsters!

She just keeps referring to the mummy, and I am getting frustrated because I am like, "We did not put up a mummy!" So I say to Dani, "Show me."

She takes me downstairs, we open up the blinds, and sure enough. Standing there, on our front porch, is a MUMMY!!! Creeped me right out!

And then I notice other additions to our yard! a headless guy holding a lantern, an extra tombstone, a large skeleton! Holy Smack! Someone totally added to our decorations through the night!

I have asked everyone that is a possible suspect. I have no idea who it was. All I know is they are the coolest person ever. And now I want to do it to people. It is like the perfect version of pay it forward!

So if you wake up one crisp fall morning, to a yard full of Halloween spooks, you know I essentially just left you a love note!

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!!!!!!! 

Welcome to Mars....

You know what I like to do when I am so busy that I have already given up eating, sleeping and general hygiene? Get a new dog. A puppy to be exact. Clearly, I am blessed with phenomenal skills in the areas of decision making, prioritizing and the overall knowing of one's personal limits.

Truthfully, it's not my fault. Droid went to the Humane Society with the plan of "surprising" me for my birthday. Clearly he is just as blessed, in the area of picking gifts for his wife. Well, the humane society, being smarter then the both of us put together, doesn't let you do that. But Droid had already fallen in love, so he texted me this picture.

Come. On. I never really had a choice, did I? I mean, we are making eye contact through this photo. How could I look him in the eyes and say, "Hey. Good luck in that cage. But you might make life a little more complicated so I can't share all the love I already feel for you. Sorry about that. Hope that cold, hard floor isn't too rough on you." 

I couldn't. So, we have a new dog. That makes 2 dogs, 2 cats, 3 kids and 1 Droid, who obviously needs more supervision then all of them put together. Granted, the universe was looking out for me a little bit, because puppy had a brother who looked exactly like him. And NO WAY could I have left one behind, all lonely and sad. So thankfully, when we got there, someone was already adopting his brother. 

We named him Mars because he has this funny spot of reddish fur on the top of his head, that reminded me of the red planet. Okay, I pretty much bribed/forced everyone to name him Mars. Well, technically I gave them the choice between Mo and Mars. I kinda liked Mo, so that when I called the dogs at the same time, I could just say "MoJo!" But Mars it is. 

Mars has adjusted nicely, and fits right in with our crazy home. Jo is slowly coming around to the idea of having a mini me. And as you can see below, the cats are pretty happy too. 

Poor Lenny hiding on top of the cupboards because he is so happy we have a new puppy.

Please enjoy these adorable pics of our new addition. Or not. I am actually just posting them for myself, so I can look at them every time I find some new present from Mars, like the freshly chewed shoes he left me today. 

Ps. I need to say, he is going to be a beast! He is only 3 months old and he is already huge!!!

Random List Monday #3!

1. So today I had my yearly eye exam.....and, drum roll please.....after the eye exam the optometrist said I need glasses for reading and when using the computer! If you know me, or if you've read my previous blog post, you know this is something I am quite happy about!! Seriously, my whole life, wanted glasses. Now I know, in a few months I am sure I will be posting about how I have learned my lesson about being careful what you wish for, but for now, I am basking in the excitement of waiting for my new glasses to arrive! I am resisting the urge to buy 10 different styles of glasses to go with my various moods/outfits.

2. Today I have been thinking that life is really like a book. Sometimes certain chapters of our lives close, and we have to move on to the next. Sometimes you don't want the chapter to end, sometimes you are relieved. Different chapters bring different emotions. Now matter how you feel about the chapter, or how you feel about moving on, the chapter is always there to add to the story. It is always there to reflect on, grow from, and is always a part of the building story. Apparently my book is about cheese. (Get it? I'm being pretty cheesy.....but it's still true!)

3. We can not get enough of the movie Tangled in our house! Love it! We were lucky to go to a screening of it just before it came out, then Boogie bought it for us on DVD. We have watched it too many times to count!

4. Today I saw something horrible, that I can't get out of my mind. I don't know if I will ever be able to eat again because every time I try, I get that image in my head. I won't go into the details, but I will say it involved a dead mouse in my garage. ugh. Good thing I didn't have my glasses then. I did not need to see that more clearly.

5. Um, I don't really have anything else to say, but I don't want to end on that. Oh! Okay, got something! So...finally this week we started playing Angry Birds. I am working hard to make sure it does not become as addicting for me as Plants Vs Zombies. But maybe I will go play some now to get that nasty image out of my head.

The Beauty of Children...

So, as many of you know, I have been taking an online course this summer. It is a pretty intense course, that normally runs for three months, but because it is during the summer, the same course load is all slammed into one month. Needless to say, it has been consuming me and keeping me pretty overwhelmed.

During this month, I have been living off a diet of coffee, and whatever I can eat while I sit down at my computer, and doesn't take me too long to grab from the kitchen so I can get back to work. For example, yesterday I ate a box of these:

My nights have ranged from about 1am (on a good night) to 4 am (clearly on a bad night). Then up with the munchkins at about 6 am. So I am sure you can imagine what my mood has been like. 

Poor diet+no sleep+lots of stress+big to do list+no time to shower= 

Yes. That is what I look like now. Just be thankful you can't smell me. However, this post is not to make you afraid of me, or feel bad for me. But today I was struck by something powerful (And no, it wasn't my smell).

No matter how grumpy, smelly, tired, stressed or overwhelmed I have been, there has been one powerful constant in my life. The unconditional love of my babies (Droid has been pretty great too, but this post is not titled The Beauty of Droid...maybe some day). They have been patient, forgiving, loving, supportive.   They have given me nothing but love, and wanted only the same in return. They don't care what my problem is, they just want to love me, and feel it in return. 

I was just thinking this evening how amazing children are.They are born only wanting to give, receive and feel love. That's all. That's how it all starts. I am always so devastated when I hear those horrible stories of horrible things happening to children. All I can think is, all they wanted was love. And how can you look at those perfect, tiny, trusting faces and not give it to them. 

Not a day goes by that I don't realize what a blessed, and lucky momma I am. My babies are empathetic, kind, helpful, funny, good to each other, good to me, good to others, good listeners, and, I really could go on and on about all the ways they make me proud. I just want to make sure that I sustain that natural, unconditional love they have been born with. I just want to make sure they know that no matter what might be popping up in our lives at that time, they are what guides me, and inspires me. Nothing motivates me more then to look in their eyes, or the feel of them wrapping their perfect arms around me. That is all it takes to remind me to do my best to make this existence we share together as beautiful, peaceful, and loving as possible. Thank you, Aidan, Dani and Owen. XOXOXO

Random List Monday #2!

1.) Ha! You thought I forgot didn't you?! Actually, you probably forgot about this, and I am the only one that didn't. And, technically it's Tuesday. Whatevs. As the old saying goes, it's Monday somewhere.

2.) This summer I seem to think I work for National Geographic. Or the bird paparazzi. I can't stop watching these baby birds in our back yard, and I have taken billions of pictures! The best part of having baby birds in the backyard is how protective the parents get when our dog, Jo, goes out. They totally dive bomb her to warn her not to mess with them. They fly right at her, and turn away at the last moment. Repeatedly. It is hilarious. And it's quite impressive. I am going to have to practice my dive bombing if I really want to do my job as a parent properly.

3.) If you take online courses, your rear will grow proportionately to the amount of knowledge your brain gains. I have been on the couch, staring at my computer for almost all of the last 24 hours. Maybe it will help me get glasses? (not because my rear is growing, but because of the staring at the computer part. Here's hoping!)

4.) I love rain. I can honestly say I have never been sick of it. But, sometimes I pretend I am in random conversations with people complaining about the rain because I know that otherwise I might be stoned to death. (I pretend I am sick of rain while in random conversations. I don't pretend I am in a random conversation. Well, I am sort of doing that right now actually, so read that whichever way you wish).

5.) Why do words sound so magical coming out of a 2 year olds mouth? When playing hide and seek with Owen, he runs into the room and says "Where Momma go, Bubba?" (Bubba is Aidan's nickname) I would hide over and over a thousand times just to hear him say this.

6. ) You know what is cool? Cutting you hair. You know what is not? Growing it out. Unless you do it in the summer and constantly wear baseball hats and bandanas. That has been my approach.

7.) I don't think I would be able to donate blood right now. I am pretty sure no one else in the world has the blood type "coffee".

Random List Monday!

I decided I am going to do random lists on Mondays. Some strange random collection of things/thoughts. Who knows what will be on the list, or if it will make any sense, or how long it will last. But whatever, I'm doing it.

So please welcome, Random List Monday #1!

1. Current favourite song - Shake It by Metro Station. Love it! It is making everything better- my workouts, my mood, etc. I even have a music video planned out, that I would totally pitch to them, but they already have a video. I would blog about it, but... all I will say is it involves Alex Pettyfer, and it would make an awesome music video.

2. Speaking of Alex Pettyfer, you should totally check out the movie "I Am Number Four". Good stuff. Hey, I guess if things are relating to each other, this list isn't so random.

3. Omg. Droid reads very slow. You would think with all that practice he would read quite fast. Nope. Apparently it's not like training for a marathon. (He was reading something for me when I came up with this thought for my list).

4. Speaking of books, even though I like my Kindle, there is nothing like the feel of a good old fashioned book in my hands.

5. Are you still wondering who Alex Pettyfer is? This guy. Just saying. He would probably be cool in a music video.

6. This momma bird built her nest on our back fence, and today we could see her feeding the babies for the first time! Very cool.

7. It s a bad sign that I am still drinking coffee at 11pm so I can stay up and get some work done. And I'm blogging. But, that is the bonus of the random list! I started it on the weekend! And now it is done.

Weirdest Habit Ever...

As you may or may not know, Droid and I love to cuddle and sleep with our kiddos. Everyone has their own bed, but all beds are not always being used. And you can expect to find any combination of people in the beds at different times. I have said a number of times that we should just convert our master bedroom into a big giant mattress. There is just something so peaceful, comforting and bonding about being in such a peaceful, vulnerable state together.

At least until Dani came along. Sleeping with Dani is a lot like signing up to be in a UFC fight while you are in a coma. She kicks. She hits. She pushes. And she has had some of the weirdest sleep habits ever.  As a baby, she used to fall asleep with her hand in my mouth, holding onto my teeth. I don't even know how that ever started, but it's true.

But, as odd as that was, it didn't compare to what came next.

There you are, snuggled against your tiny, sweet little daughter. All quiet and peaceful. You roll over with your back to this little angel, and the next thing you know, she starts jamming her feet down the back of your pants! She tries to use your crack as a foot warmer! And when I say jams, I mean jams! This is not a gentle thing. It is abusive and weird!

But it gets even weirder. Owen now does the same thing!?! Who knew using cracks as a foot warmer was a genetic trait?! Granted, he isn't as abusive about it as Dani is.

I used to think it must be nice as a momma Kangaroo to have a safe little pouch to tuck your babies into for safe keeping. But not so much anymore.

Yeah, she was sleeping like that. 

holy guacamole...

Wow, man. Things really go downhill when the boss is down and out. I am not feeling so hot today and haven't moved from my couch much. The kids are in pyjama's and have eaten approximately 37 ego waffles, 15 granola bars, popcorn, and chocolate milk. There are no cushions left on any of the couches (except the one I am on), and my carpet is now made of popcorn bits. (I'm sure Droid would say "What's new?" and he would mostly be telling the truth). At least I have deleted about 400 emails, that's productive right?  Oops, Owen just wrote on his face with a pen.

Otherwise, I don't really have much to say. One day I will get back to blogging it up. I have a few blogs, but they have only been written in my head, and I haven't figured out how to share it that way yet. There has to be some machine that can interpret the messages your brain waves are sending and type it up, right?! I should get on that....

At least they still look cute! 

It's a bird! It's a plane! No, it's Self-Sabotage Girl!!!

It has recently come to my attention that I have developed a rather rare super power. I have the extreme ability to sabotage myself. I can do it in a variety of settings and situations, and it seems to happen rather naturally.

Often super powers are the result of some kind of traumatic event. Mine is no exception. I am pretty sure it started to develop when, at the age of 6, I got Bells Palsy. For those of you who are not familiar with Bells Palsy, let me fill you in. It's pretty awesome. Half of your face gets paralyzed, so you can't smile, close one eye, or drink all that properly because you can't use half of your mouth, so anything you drink trickles out all over your face. My mom had to tape my eye shut every night. 

Young kids don't usually get Bells Palsy, and they definitely don't often get it 3 times like I did. Usually, it happens for a bit, then goes away. But I guess because I was lucky enough to get it 3 times, a bit of paralysis hung around. I still can't blow up balloons properly, and I regularly get asked why my smile is crooked. Every time someone takes my picture, I use a very practiced smile that doesn't show off my crooked face. 

Now, as you can imagine, having a crooked-half paralyzed face in elementary school opens up a playground of jokes. Some of my favourites were "You look like you smoked a cigar on one side of your face for too long", and the obvious name calling, "PopEye the Sailor Man", and they weren't talking about my muscles. (It's okay if you want to laugh here, it is actually making me laugh right now too).

So, somewhere along the way, I realized that if I made fun of myself first, it didn't hurt so bad when someone else made fun of me! Plus, if I beat them to the punch, it would be sort of redundant for them to say it again. Took all the fun out of calling me PopEye! I believe this is a pretty rad coping strategy, and has worked well for most of my life. I'm pretty sure it helped me to earn my Class Clown, and "Most likely to be in a Mentos commercial" titles. 

The problem is, I've lost control of my power, and now it is coming out all over the place! Which is a problem during, say, a job interview where instead of saying all the things I am good at, I automatically say all the areas I need to improve on! Or instead of saying all the great things I've done the past year, I talk about the thing that required the least of me?! Somehow I have to reign my powers in before tragedy strikes. I mean, we all know what happened when Peter Parker took advantage of his SpiderMan  powers!! (Well, most of us do. If you don't, sorry about that. Just imagine something bad happening)

In fact, I've probably gone and done it again. Considering I am about to post to the world that my face is crooked. Well, guess I won't need to use my fake smile in pictures anymore. Sweet. 

My secret evil pet peeve...

I am a pretty laid back person. It takes a lot to ruffle my feathers. Well, if I had feathers, it would take a lot to ruffle them. But there is one secret pet peeve that I have kept from the world. One thing that drives me absolutely bat doo crazy.

Eating sounds.

I cannot stand eating sounds.

Someone in my house is eating cereal right now. I am not naming names. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. OMG I am going to lose my mind.

It's funny, I don't think I really notice these sounds at social gatherings etc., but at home, in a quiet house, whoa. And the crazy part is, I would literally take a bullet for these people, I love them more then anything, and I love everything about them! Everything! Except the eating sounds. Those make me want to rip my own ears off and stuff them in my pocket until everyone is done eating.

So........Anybody want to come over for dinner? Maybe have a lunch date? Pretty sure I've just isolated myself. Maybe secret evil pet peeves are not meant for sharing. Especially when it involves something humans have to do to survive. I probably should have just invested in some ear plugs.

A Discombobulated Canerican..

That's me folks. I've decided when people ask me, "What are you?" (which, interestingly happens much more often in Canada than in the States. Actually, I don't think I was ever asked that in the States), my answer is going to be, "Canerican".

I've lived in Canada for 12 years this month. Crazy! As a small town American, who lived in the same town in Colorado for 21 years, I never thought I would be raising my family in Canada.  I never imagined "eh" would be a word I used frequently, or that I would become a major hockey mom (although, I clearly remember when the Avs first came to Colorado, I thought hockey was so cool and I desperately wanted to become a hockey player. Maybe that was a sign?).  I didn't know I would be using terms like "looney" and "tooney" to describe money, rather than a cartoon.

But here I am.  About 1,800 miles (thats 2,896.82 kilometres for you Canadians), from "home".  And that is where the discombobulation comes in. Home. I've been here long enough that now Canada is also home. There is a constant state of confusion inside me. I am always both homesick for Colorado, and very at home living in Canada. I miss the mountains, great blue skies, family and friends, Dos Hombres (I would kill for their chicken taco salad and a margarita), familiarity, and my history in Colorado. But I am so proud and thankful for the life, family, friends, and home that Droid and I have built here in Canada, and can't imagine living anywhere else.

It's weird. I see people that remind me of someone, and I can't place if they remind me of someone from "back home", or here. I am slowly getting the hang of the metric system. Okay, not really. I am actually just confused now, and can't remember how to properly measure anything.  But I did catch myself calling the letter Z, "Zed" the other day, and I'm sure my American friends didn't even realize that Canadians did that! This summer I am going to embark on my first very Canadian tradition of "going to the cottage", which for my Colorado friends, that is the equivalent of "going to Lake Powell".

When I am in Canada, I am teased about being an American. But when I am in the US, I am teased about being a Canadian. It's funny to be on both sides of the fence, and see how neither of the stereotypes are completely true.  Most of my American friends aren't loud jerk faces, and most of my Canadian friends don't live in igloos, wear plaid and say "eh" at the end of every sentence. And now that I've officially offended both of you, I will have to move somewhere else ; )

Sometimes, when it's been a little too long since I've been "back home", I start to worry that I am like a snake shedding skin, and feel too far away from the Colorado in me. But today, Owen and I were walking near a pond and two Canadian geese literally hissed at me. It reassured me that they could probably sense the American in me.

Regardless of where I am, I am beyond thankful for my friends and family on both sides of the border. I love you all! :)

Top 9 things I just can't resist...

1. While these are in no certain order, the absolute number one on this list is cuddling with my babies...
Heaven. Complete and total relaxation and bliss.  I.can.not.tear.myself. away. Every night, I snuggle up, close my eyes, and use all of my senses to commit these moments to my long term memory. Our favourite game in this house is musical beds. We really need to just turn our master bedroom floor into a giant mattress.  I know some people consider this the number one thing of naughty parenting, but for us, it feels right and fits us perfectly.  There is just something so comforting and bonding about ending the day snuggled up close, in such a relaxed and peaceful place together. You could definitely say this is my "happy place". 


2.  Books, books, books...
I have been a book lover my whole life. One of my favourite things growing up, was when Boogie used to take me to the bookstore and let me pick whatever books I wanted, and the bookmarks to go with them.  That often backfired on her though, during vacations, when my parents would be begging me to get my nose out of the books and enjoy the scenery. Even as an adult, on summer trips with the kids to my parents house, I admit to hiding under the desk to finish reading even though both my parents and my kids were calling for me. Once, I get engrossed in a book, it is neglect city for everything else. We are seriously lucky my kids survived when Scar Tissue by Anthony Kiedis came out.  I barely looked up for a few days (lucky for them, I am a fast reader. Yes, I'm totally bragging about my skills. Droid is totally jealous).

One of my favourite
Authors/books growing up

The truth is, I harass Droid all the time about his book buying habits, but I really am just as bad. I  just disguise mine through buying billions of books for the kids, and you know, that's okay because we want them to be readers right?! Plus, I'm a teacher, so I need a lot of books!!


I really love all kinds of books. Fiction, non-fiction, chapter books, picture books, biography, autobiography, reference, resource, poetry, classics, how-to books; you write it, I need it.  There really is not enough time in a day.


3. Magazines 

One of my fav. magazines
They totally got me with one
of my fav. actress- Buffy
the Vampire Slayer, hello!

Yeah, I know this should pretty much fall under the previous category, but it really is a whole other issue. I am a total junkie. Man, those cover stories get me every time!! I totally think I am going to get "Rock Hard Abs!", or the "Easiest, Healthiest Meals of All Time!" Again, I love all kinds of magazines. Parenting, fashion (mega love me some fashion!), entertainment, decorating, health, family, exercise, ALL OF THEM!!! I can't stop myself. I have so many piles of unread magazines. I have so many piles of things I've torn out of magazines. 


4. Worst sweet tooth ever...
Again, I like it all. Maybe I just need to be more selective if I want to be able to resist things. All things sweet, I love. That's why I don't like dark chocolate. It is not sweet. It's nasty. Well, at least I can resist one thing. 


5. A cup of joe...
Stupid coffee. Why do I have to love you so? The problem is not so much the coffee, but, because of # 4, I like it super sweet. So I take a pound of sugar with it. Ugh. Sometimes I try to resist this one, and while I always feel better when I am just drinking green tea instead...it's just not the same. Droid is trying to get me to at least drink decaff, but I'm not gonna lie, I like a little caffeine with my sugar.


6. Anything funny....
If you make me laugh, I will love you forever.  The same goes for if you laugh at me. And again, I love all kinds of humour. I don't get offended and I can find humour in everything. And I am one of those people who laughs at horribly inappropriate times. It's just an automatic response. Funny people, funny books, funny shows, anything and everything funny. Some of my favourite funny people- Conan O'Brian, Will Ferrell, Jenny McCarthy, Sarah Silverman, Ellen, Tina Fey, and oh so many more that I know I am going to want to keep adding to this list!  


7. School and office supplies...
This is probably why I am a teacher. I walk into Staples and my heart starts pounding with excitement. Notebooks, pens, binders, sticky notes, agendas....dude. I wish it was September so I had a sort of reason to go buy a bunch. 

8. Organizing and rearranging things...
I love to "go-through" stuff. I am constantly rearranging my house. Especially the kid's rooms. Droid and Boogie just roll their eyes and say "oh no," when I say what I am doing. I am constantly wanting to organize things, and get things, to organize things. I don't know why this brings me such joy, but it does. I am constantly like a nesting preggers lady. Granted, these days most of it happens in my head. I need Boogie to come and be me for a week so I can get in a good dose of organizing. (Let's just say Owen likes to unorganize as much as I like to organize, so he's not the best teammate for that. Hence the need for a Boogie intervention.) 


9. Blogging...
Enough said.

Murpheous, the God of Parenting

I've always been intrigued by Greek Mythology, but currently I am starting to believe there may be some truth to it. Most specifically, I'm pretty sure there is a God of Parenting, and that dude has one sick sense of humour.

Thursday afternoon I came home from work. I had worked the full school day, so Droid picked up the kids from school. Everyone was good, but Aidan was just on the couch, being kind of low key. My momma senses started to tingle, and immediately I was asking if he was okay. He said he was, no word from him or Daddy on anything happening at school.

He continued to seem off, so I spent some time cuddling him, asking if he was okay. Eventually he said his hand was hurting because a kid at school had accidentally kicked a ball into it at recess. It looked swollen, so I got him some ice and Advil, and continued to hang out with him on the couch.

Friday morning he was still in pain and swollen, but was able to move his hand and fingers, so I figured if we continued to do the ice/elevate/Advil/rest routine, he would be okay. We let him stay home from school, set him up on the couch, and he took it easy for the day.

Saturday morning he seemed about the same. So I'm keeping my eye on him and continuing to make him rest, but still thinking if we just keep doing what we're doing it will get better. Around 2:30 pm, the swelling and the pain seem to be worse, so I decide to call the doctor. For some reason, their answering system keeps looping me back to the main menu so I can't get through to them. They closed at 3 pm.

So I called Tele-health, (for my American friends, that's a number you can call to speak to a registered nurse to get advice on what your next steps should be for any health concern). They advised me to take him to emergency. Which they really actually do quite often. At least for the things I've called on, but that's okay, because I would rather be safe than sorry. Even if this story doesn't make it sound like that is my philosophy.

So, first I cut his fingernails, because they looked like claws and I didn't want to give the hospital a reason to question if I was the one to break his wrist. Next, we got dressed (for the same reason), because we were still in our pyjamas.  Then we set off for the hospital.

We got through rather quickly, and everyone in the hospital was fantastic. After a few rounds of x-rays and examinations, we find that Aidan fractured his wrist. They put on the cast and we are on our way, with instructions to come back to the fracture clinic in about a week.

Now, here is the part where (Andrew is awesome) (No, he isn't but I had him preview this and he typed that in himself), I finally tie into my opening statements. The God of Parenting- Murpheous, because its obviously where the idea of Murphy's Law stemmed from.

In the past, Aidan developed petechiae spots that could indicate things like leukaemia or blood poisoning, we rush to emerg- PYSCH!  All is good, go home, thanks for coming.
Aidan has intense chest pains- rush to emerg-PYSCH! All is good, go home, thanks for coming.

But, Aidan gets hit in the hand with a ball, AND HIS WRIST IS BROKEN?! And I made him sit like that since Thursday?! Way to make me feel like a jerk, Murpheous, God of Parenting.

There are so many moments like that in parenting! Oh, you don't have to get up early for work this morning? You have a chance to sleep-in for the first time in 8 years? Guess what, baby is up early! BAM! Murpheous at work.

What's that? You just told your friend how great your baby is sleeping? BAM! Baby is up all night! Murpheous at work.

And I could go on, and on, and on. But I won't, because this probably only makes sense in my head. But the God of Parenting is what I was thinking about as I drove Aidan to the hospital.

P.S. Speaking of a sick sense of humour: the boy who kicked the ball into Aidan's hand is named Michael. When Michael asks Aidan what happened, he plans on responding with "YOU happened!"

That's my boy :)

"You. Make. Me. Feel like I'm living A..."

As you can imagine, I am not one who gets embarrassed easily.  I think that is pretty obvious. So at times when people would ask "What's your most embarrassing moment?", I never really had an answer (Granted, my answer probably should be "everything that comes out of my mouth.")

Well, that is no more. I finally have my moment.

The other day, as I was headed home from work, I picked up my cell phone and tried to call a super good friend of mine (just in case there are any Po-Po out there, I totally wasn't driving yet. (I recently got a little speeding ticket, I don't want to push my luck) Can I do parenthesis within parenthesis? I think I have a parenthesis addiction). Anyhow, she didn't answer so I left her a humorous message, hung up, and proceeded to do what I always do when I am alone in the car- crank up some tunes, and belt my heart out like I am holding some kind of Lollapalooza inside my car. Seriously I make the faces, dance, and everything. I'm pretty sure one day someone is going to ask me to be in their music video.

Fast forward ten minutes, my phone does it's little text message jangle.I open that bad boy up, and it is a message from the super good friend I tried to call.

"I don't know what I loved more, (the humorous yet slightly inappropriate comment I left on her voice mail), or the fact that you never ended the call and serenaded me with car singing of Katy Perry's "Teenage Dream". Oh yes, it's saved as an audio file for our next assembly"

At that moment, in addition to wondering exactly why I considered her such a super good friend, I was horrified! How did I not properly hang up the phone!?! My singing is TERRIBLE!!!! That's why I only do my belt-outs when I am alone. I don't even subject my children to that sound! (although I am now realizing that will be a wicked punishment for missed curfews etc. in the future!) Seriously, I used to get in so much trouble in middle school during choir because I would goof off rather than sing what I was supposed to be singing (sorry Mrs. Koemon!), but little did the teacher know, I was just trying to protect everyone from bleeding to death through their ears!

You are probably thinking I can't be all that embarrassed, since I am BLOGGING about it! But that is only because you guys can't hear it. And lucky for me, super good friend is like me, and loves to threaten to do all kinds of horrible things, but will never actually do it. Which is just ONE reason why I love her so much. Although I am probably testing my luck by calling her bluff on this.

Hey, is it weird that I haven't blogged about my new haircut yet? Or is it weird that I blog about my hair at all? Either way, I figured I at least owe you blog faces a little chat about it since I put you through all of my beforehand musings- "should I? shouldn't I?" and "Oops, my ears are dumb, guess I can't!"

Well, I thought long and hard about it, looked at billions of pictures, and asked pretty much everyone I know their opinion on "to cut or not to cut". (I don't know why. I don't really care what other people think about that kind of stuff, but me verbalizing stuff everywhere is part of how I work stuff out for myself. Sorry for those of you that have to suffer through it with me, but...well, there is no but, I'm just sorry!)

Anyways, after quite some time of me obsessing over this, I realized I would never stop until I just did it. I said to myself, "Lenny, you know how you are. It's something you have to do. You will probably hate it, but you have to try." (I don't think I actually called myself Lenny, but it sounds cool here) So I settled on a haircut, held some final meetings at work about if I should go through with it or not (again, knowing I wouldn't actually take people's advice if they said not to), and headed to my hair dresser!

Now, I knew I would have to do some convincing here. And immediately my lady was like...."Um, no. That is too short. I don't think we should do it." And the more she resisted, the more I knew I had to do it and would be disappointed if I walked out of there without a short cut. I told her that I knew I would probably hate it, but I really wanted to do it, and would not hold her accountable in any way.  After about 15 minutes of me basically begging, she reluctantly gave in.

Now, I'm not going to lie. I had a moment of fear when she whacked off a huge chunk, and I asked "have you done many short cuts?"
She replied " No, not really, so I'm excited because this will be outside of my box." Uh oh.

Once we got going, she got really into it, and I could tell she was enthusiastic about it. I didn't even feel an ounce of regret as I watched the stylist next to me fix this woman's long, shiny hair into a beautiful up-do.

And when she was finished- I loved it! And I have loved it ever since. Short hair is the easiest thing EVER! And it feels so fresh, and new and different! Seriously people, I feel like I could move mountains! I have to say, when poor Britney Spears shaved her head and everyone thought she went insane, I have since realized that is the moment she was at her sanest.

And now I am obsessed, and want to make it even easier and shorter. I think a lot of the satisfaction comes from the fact that I did something I've thought my whole life I could never do. I thought I would look like a dumb hole. And you know what, maybe I do, but it is so EASY, fresh and different, I don't even care! It was also satisfying to know myself and know it was something I needed to do.

Okay, I know it's just hair. Obviously the cut didn't solve all of my problems. I'm gonna stop now. Blogging about it that is, not cutting it.

my computer has been taken hostage

I would totally write a new blog, but my husband has taken over the computer. I'm not kidding, he is hogging it mega time!! He just got up to make popcorn and I dived in to at least write this little note. I think our computer chair is permanently shaped like his butt. Oops. He is reading this over my shoulder now.  Okay, he walked away back to his popcorn. I guess I could go on now that he has left, but it's kinda grossing me out that the seat is still warm from his perma-butt.
Outs!

An apology...

Dear Body,

Wow. The ways I've been treating you for the past few months have been horrible. It's ridiculous,  considering the fact that you've grown, delivered, nurtured, and continue to care for, the things most important to me (talking about my babies here, not fat cells).

The only part I've been good to, is you, tongue. Which is a joke, because you are the part that gets me in the most trouble, with all those things you make me say. Yet I have rewarded you with tasty morsel after tasty morsel. To be honest, you kind of remind me of the devil, tongue, always leading me to temptation.

After all you have given me, dear body, I have continued to abuse you and expect you to perform your best. Can I pull up to the gas station, throw some dirt in the tank, and expect my car to run smoothly (or at all)?!? Nope. Can you deprive a mule of water and nutrients, and expect it to haul people and up and down the Grand Canyon?? I think not! And imagine what would happen if you pumped that mule full of all the coffee and sugar I've pumped into you! That story would make the news for sure! ("Woman Dies After Over Caffeinated Donkey Bolts Over Edge of Grand Canyon")

My point is, how can I expect you to be energized, motivated, focused, in a good mood, able to think straight, and on and on and on, if I continuously stuff junk into you, and deprive you of the exercise, movement, and nutrients you crave??? I can't. Not anymore. I'm sorry for being so negligent. All those mornings, running out of the house without breakfast. Eating a handful of M&M's for lunch (OK, let's be honest, half a bag. OK fine! The whole dang bag!) Always saying to myself "I'll get back to exercising tomorrow".

I'm sorry it's taken the spare tire around my middle, and some mega tight pants for me to take notice of the pain I've been causing you. I should have just looked at my babies to remind me of the amazing things you are capable of. I hope you'll accept this blog post as my official apology. And as my first step towards accountability. (Granted, I'm probably going to regret this tomorrow when everyone starts calling me FattyMcGee). But I will take it, body. To show you that I mean it this time. You have given me an amazing 33 years, and it's time I give you the love and attention you deserve.

2nd episode

Reality TV Star

Hey look! I got my own reality show! I was nervous about looking so pale on TV so I used some fake tanner. That's why I'm looking so orange.

Lemons are for Lemonade

The other day, I was having one of "those" days. You know the ones. To be honest, I'd been feeling like I was having a few of "those" days lately. Just feeling off, not quite myself, feeling a little overwhelmed with some of the every day stresses we all face. Blah!!! Later that night, Droid got an unexpected night off. He came home and we just sat and we talked. We had a wonderful evening with nothing but hanging and talking to each other. We talked all about the cruddy ways I was feeling. It was really nice and I didn't want to go to bed. I especially enjoyed the part where I made him look through magazines and pick haircuts with me ;-)

My point is, my lemonish day was made into lemonade. And things have been beautiful since. I think those lemon times in life are meant as a reminder for us to assess our choices, our lifestyles, our thoughts and patterns, everything. They are moments of great personal growth and learning. Great opportunities to take the pain, discomfort, disappointment, or whatever negative feelings you may be having, and use them as motivation to grow, improve, change and learn.

They are also amazing opportunities to bond and connect with people in our lives. Remember you can't make lemonade just out of lemons! You need to add the other ingredients! And talking with Droid was just the ingredient I needed I add. So often we try to hide away the bad ways we are feeling and pretend that everything is great. Maybe if we talked more often, asked for help and really connected, we could all make a little more lemonade.

I don't actually think this blog makes any sense, I just know that after that night I got the saying "When life gives you lemons, make lemonade" stuck in my head. Which is basically what I'm trying to say. Or maybe I'm just trying to say I'm thirsty.

check it out!!

Booyah!! New design Y'all!! I may have spent last weekend out with Fran and Simon, but this weekend, I am spending it with my blog!! Heck to the ya!

Fran and Simon...

This past weekend, I did something pretty radical. I hung out with a dude who is pretty much famous.

Meet Simon.
He is a published author, and has even been published in the same works as Stephen King. Serious business, right?? I won't mention his work here because I doubt he wants to be fully associated with my blog. You can tell by the face he made when I said I was taking a picture for my blog. Pretty sure I caught him mid eye roll. Besides, all that really matters right now is that I know a dude who is pretty much famous.

Droid and Simon have been friends since high school. They share similar interests of reading, writing and watching certain types of films (notice how I made them sound smarter by using the word films instead of movies?) Back in the day when I first moved up to Canada, Droid, Simon and I used to hang out at coffee shops and discuss the latest episode of Buffy The Vampire slayer. Shoot. This post is supposed to make you realize how cool I am for knowing someone famous. I'm giving away too much info that is having the opposite effect. Back to the point...

You can tell Simon is famous by his trophy wife, Fran. Forget all of Simon's other accomplishments, landing Fran is the one that impresses me the most. This girl is trophy wife supreme. In addition to her hotness, she cooks, installs baseboards, paints, kinda plays the piano, wears cool glasses, is HILARIOUS (but not more funny then you Simon, don't worry), and full of compassion. I've only met Fran about 3 times now, but I could go on and on about this girl. Seriously. I love her.

You can see I made another friend at Fran and Simon's house. I never did get her name, but she was very nice to me. Probably a little too nice, to be honest.

Regardless, you can tell by this photo of Fran and Simon, caught on my hidden phone camera, that I still brought intriguing conversation to the table. They look completely delighted to have me for company.

Obviously, Droid was there too. You can see how the two ladies really get along. Seriously, they are crossing their legs more politely then a lady in a pencil skirt! Not that there's anything wrong with that.

Fran, Simon....no one else may actually care about this post, but I do. Because you rocked my world this weekend. I had a blast, and the world needed to know it.

If you are curious about what I might be like as a teacher, the answer is simple. Watch Glee. No, I am not Coach Beast, although she is bad to the bone so I wouldn't mind that. Holly Holiday, baby. That about sums it up.

*disclaimer- minus the naughty bits. I don't do the naughty- illegal -get me in trouble- and fired stuff. And I can't sing worth beans. And I'm not tall. But otherwise, it's pretty much me in a nutshell. Especially the parts where she says, "Dude".

I was going to put a clip of Holly Holiday here, but all I could find was of her 1.) singing  and 2.) talking about naughty stuff. And since I already told you I can't sing, that would be false advertising of myself. And since I am an actual teacher, and teach mostly the little guys, I better avoid putting naughty stuff up, just in case.

So if you are super curious because you don't know what I am talking about, go watch the latest Glee episode online and you shall see. But don't watch it if you are young. I do not recommend it to children. Just want to be clear here.

back by popular demand!

Alright, it appears in the public opinion polls, me as a grown up is scarier than me, as me! So I'm back! Told ya it wouldn't last long...

Regardless, I wanted to share with you the one cool act I did in my short time as a grown up.

Driving home from a plaza near my house, I noticed a car parked off the right shoulder, in front of one of the plaza stores. Suddenly from the drivers side window, a coffee cup comes flying out and lands in the street.

Now, grown up or not, litter bugs are a pet peeve of mine. But grown up Brenda does something about it. I immediately stopped my car, jumped out, and ran up to the litter bug car. I scooped up the coffee cup, and said to the driver, who's window was still conveniently rolled down, "there are tons of garbage cans around," illustrated by pointing one out, "so there is no need to toss this out the window". I took the abused coffee cup back with me, to be thrown out respectfully at my house.

Not gonna lie, I was worried I might get shot up for my brazenness. But to make my point about littering was worth the risk. So today, I am clearly more John Wayne than Charlie Sheen. It doesn't really matter that the driver who tossed out the coffee cup was an older lady who probably didn't understand what I said. The car she was driving COULD have belonged to the mob. For the record, I didn't see it was an older lady before deciding to go on this quest. I mean, I'm not a bully.

My point is, don't litter. Because even though I'm not a grown up anymore, you never know when I might jump out and scold you for it, and then throw out your litter for you.

Idiot Rehab...

I've been thinking a lot about growing up lately. I think I might need to do a little bit of it. It's hard work, growing up, when you are a retired class clown. How do you grow up without losing that bit of you that really makes you who you are? Someone who enjoys acting like a ninny just to hear people laugh, someone who says things they don't actually believe at all, simply for the love of sarcasm. And would people even know how to relate to me any more, if I was all serious and calm? What if I'm no good to have around, if I'm not making up some jokes??? This blog would obviously have to come to an end! I mean, no one wants to hear me get all inspirational. People would probably just think I was depressed.

I guess like most things in life, it's about finding balance. I've been feeling like a Charlie Sheen lately. Minus the ladies, the money and the illegal substances. At least sarcasm is legal. But sometimes, I feel like the pathetic part of Charlie Sheen. You go along all funny and sarcastic, people laughing, it's a good time. But eventually it gets carried away. And you go all sarcastic at inappropriate times, start having trouble turning it off and focusing on important things like making meals for your family.

But, unlike Charlie Sheen, I also have a horrible guilty conscious. So then I spend way too much time feeling rotten about being sarcastic all over the place, and the need to over explain is ridiculous. Self doubt...ugh. It's like a hangover. So then the cycle starts all over, in order to chase away those bad feelings.

I think my ninny self has come out a lot stronger since my Dad passed away. Well, I mean not immediately, I wasn't making jokes at his Celebration of Life or anything. But I think once the time came that I was expected to be over my grief. No one ever says you have to be over it, you just start to realize you have to move forward. And like most addicts, you use the funny to cover up the sad. To not face that music. This is not at all a conscious effort, and I'm just throwing out some thoughts here. Or maybe like a true addict, I am just throwing out excuses. 

So my fake glasses were my first attempt at idiot rehab. Look smart, play the part? nope.

I don't know what's next. Hopefully I don't have to move to Timbuktu and start all fresh. I think this idiot rehab stuff is pretty new. But if I don't post as many smartypants comments on your facebook wall, or if I don't smack you in the arm when I see you, don't worry, I'm not depressed, I'm just trying to grow up a bit. And it will probably only last a moment anyways, before I am back to my dumbhole ways. It might just be the way I am, and I am going to have to embrace that and find the balance.

ps. no matter what, I am keeping the fake glasses. I am in love with them.

so smart now....

I dearly apologize, comrades. It appears that I am currently much too intelligent to spend my time on such a blog. As you can see below, my intelligence factor has been greatly upgraded. Maybe I will turn this blog into a "word of the day" vocabulary challenge for you, or throw in some Sudoku for a good time.

For those of you who are wondering if these are real, of course they are. Someone of my intelligence would not fake such a thing.

Now please excuse me, I have to partake in an online studious endeavor, further enhancing my mental capacities. And no, I do not mean Facebook. I am probably too smart for that now, as well. *sigh* I will probably throw you nincompoops a bone, and continue to interact with you. It will probably be amusing.

Farewell.

It's like I don't even know myself anymore. Every time I walk by a mirror, I recoil in horror. No, I didn't get a haircut. Something much worse. Something that is a part of me and who I am, and has been all my life, without me even realizing it.

One of my nephews has a biology assignment regarding recessive traits. He is looking at earlobes- attached vs. unattached. So I get a message asking us to have a look at all of our earlobes. No problem! I'm thinking in my head that my earlobes are definitely unattached so I don't need to check, but I take a look at all 3 of the kids. Yep, all unattached as well. The kids wondered what I was talking about so I google some pictures to show them the difference. For those of you who may want a visual, here you go. So as we're looking I'm thinking oh good, we all

Top row of ears are all unattached earlobes. Bottom row are all attached.

 have unattached earlobes which are clearly more attractive, in my opinion. A cute little curve at the bottom, not all attached to your head in a Frankenstein manner like those gross attached ears. I check Droid's picture because he wasn't home. Unattached as well! So I decide to go have a little peek in the mirror at my cute unattached earlobes just to admire them. And that is when my world fell apart.

OMG. I am Frankenstein. How did those get there?? How did I never know???  All this time I thought I had cute little unattached earlobes, with an adorable little curve at the bottom. But there on the side of my head sat a horrible looking attached ear.

Every time I look at my ear now, it's like I'm looking at someone else's ear.  I feel like I was abducted by aliens, but instead of a probe, they gave me ears.
 I can tell Droid looks at me different now.

So I dare you to go look at your own ears in the mirror. If you are as traumatized as me, don't worry, I'm thinking of starting a support group. In the mean time, I guess this solves my "should I get a pixie haircut" dilemma. No way am I flaunting my Frankenstein ears.

Wow, I just realized Pat and I have the same smile. If you look at my hair blog (not hair ball), and look at my pics and the future me if I go pixie style (Pat), WE TOTALLY HAVE THE SAME SMILE!

Why am I proud of that?

Oh no, not again. Here comes that familiar feeling. It comes as predictable as the change of seasons....that urge to cut my hair. Every stinking year it happens. Just ask Boogie and Droid, I'm pretty sure they are ready to give me a permanent balding so they never have to hear me talk about it again. I would say ask Tron, but she is pretty much as bad as me. Although once I was so desperate I named her executive decision maker on my hair. That promptly ended when I asked her to make a decision on if I should get bangs or not. She said no, then immediately went and got herself some bangs. She was clearly abusing her power.

That permanent balding would also protect Boogie, Droid and anyone else in my near vicinity, from what happens after I follow through on that feeling. Regret, dread and the constant repetition of "Do you like my hair? Really? Tell me the truth." I usually completely hate the new do, and start the process of growing it out all over. Again.

It doesn't necessarily have to be just a cut. I've been a redhead (okay, that was because I attempted to do my own highlights and it looked like a sun exploded on my forehead area only. Obviously the smart thing to do was cover my entire head with red dye. Because Ronald McDonald looks so much better then a sun explosion). I've been a brunette. That was fun, but I just didn't feel like myself (no comments on how I probably looked too smart as a brunette, and as a natural blonde am not used to that!) Technically I've done black hair as well, but that was in the 5th grade for a school project. I should have learned my lesson then, when it took at least 2 years to get my hair back to normal colour.

And don't even get me started on the times I've cut my own hair, or let non-haircutting professionals cut it for me! The compounding problem is that once I decide to do it, it has to happen like, NOW! Once, in middle school I wanted to cut my hair so badly, but Boogie wouldn't do it that second, so I decided I could probably do it myself. So, with hair down to the middle of my back, I pulled it into a ponytail and chopped. WOW. That was not a good look. I can't even tell you how mad Boogie was at me. She threatened to send me to school the next day like that. She "fixed" it, but it didn't matter. My boyfriend at the time still broke up with me the next day. That is the degree of badness my haircut had reached.

Currently I'm itching for a pixie cut. That is one thing I've never done. But I know myself, and I know my face is too lame (thanks Bells Palsy! now that is something I need to blog about!) and my rear end is too big, to pull it off. I'm pretty sure I would end up looking like the blonde Pat from Saturday Night Live. And I also know myself, and know I would not be able to look in a mirror for the next 2 years as it grew out to a normal length.

So, for now I am resisting the urge. Who knows, maybe one day I'll make a blog poll and let you blog faces decide on if I should cut it or not, because that would be pretty funny. And at least then I could blame you guys, and refer to you as jerk faces from that point on. That also would be pretty funny (well, to me).

Please enjoy a gallery of some of my past moments in hair (ps. most of them are crappy old web cam pics because after I did something drastic to my hair, I would immediately send a picture to my mom and dad so I could repeatedly ask them what they thought):

Short!

Red head days!

Back to short!

Getting longer again!

Dark!

Future??????