mrtl

Blankity Blank

I feel like I'm squandering my time in Maryland, not taking advantage of all the wonderful things right here at my fingertips. I should be out of the house, visiting all those places and getting all the things I can't get in South Carolina.

I can't remember what all that is.

A few come to mind: meeting with friends, Chevy's, Starbucks, Barnes and Noble, knitting shop. Things I thought the girls would enjoy: the fire station in Ellicott City, the Christmas lights in Columbia; some are farther than I'd really like to go while I'm here: Rainforest Cafe, Inner Harbor, the Mall.

Before I know it, we'll be packing up and heading south. I'm sure the second we pass that city sign, my memory will return and I'll be slapping myself for forgetting.

The first picture? Total coincidence. I'm just saying.

I spent the better part of my day on the couch. I won't say where I spent the worse part of my day.

My brain isn't in full function mode, so I've dug out some pictures from Escape to Seattle 2008 with Alaskan Mama back in September for today's post.

 

 

 

Must Be a V Thing

Why is it that it seems like everywhere I turn today, there is a vagina? Is it Vaginal Issues Day? I hope not, because, while vaginas are very important, today is a day to honor our veterans, and vaginas should know better than to piggyback on something so important as those who have fought for our country.

Yes, vaginas, I realize that you've been through battles, too. That's no cause to steal the thunder from veterans. Veterans deserve more respect than that. Give them today.

If you're going to piggyback on something, why not November 15? November 15 is National Clean Our Your Refrigerator Day. It totally relates, you know, being receptacles, and I'm sure the refrigerators won't be offended.

Exhaustion

Today the girls and I took a ride to the Nature Center to watch the release of an eagle back into the wild. It was a thing of beauty, seeing the bird, after struggling against being held for some parting shots, beat tail out of there. I could relate.

Mister mrtl has been gone less than a week, and I'm already planning my escape. After his return, maybe sometime next summer, I am going to take a holiday. (Yes, mister, I'm sure I could take such a holiday while my parents watch the kids. For you to even bring this thought up would only show that you don't get it.)

::tangent for breaking events::
At this very moment, Jem is trying to poke a cheez-it between my toes.
::end tangent for breaking events::

Jem used to go to bed very easily -- hell, she'd say, "Nigh! Nigh!" and run down the hall to her room without prompting -- is now putting up a major fight. Teething? Check. Heat? check.

::tangent for resolution::
I shall no longer brag that we don't have air conditioning in Alaska.
::end tangent for resolution::

Last night it all culminated into a big soup of Drive Momma Crazy. There was a lot planned for that time after they were asleep: work, bills, knitting, treadmill, shower...

Last night Jem would.not. go to sleep. She was tired, and was acting it, but wouldn't settle down. After Bug went to bed, I tried more to settle her with no success. I started planning to have a drink and take $10 from Jem's savings account to pay off the weight loss group. Instead, I put her in her crib to scream and hit the treadmill for ten minutes. She didn't let up. I brought her downstairs to play in the bathroom's towel cupboard while I took a shower. It was 9:15 when I went to bed, Jem in the playard next to my bed. The moment I lay down, she settled down and fell into a deep sleep.

It wasn't long before I realized I hadn't taken my allergy meds. Bad idea. She was out, so I snuck out to the kitchen. Woot! I would be able to get some things done afterall! Glancing out the window, I saw I left a cushion on a chair outside. Knowing it was supposed to rain last night, I took a second to open the door to...

::tangent for all hell breaking loose::
Did I mention that we had a home security system installed yesterday? The damned thing went off, loudly and shrilly. I grabbed the phone for the call from the monitor and ran to the keypad.
::end tangent for all hell breaking loose::

Would you believe that Jem didn't wake up? Bug did, of course, and the poor thing was shaking uncontrollably from the fear. After hugging and rocking her at the top of the stairs, I couldn't send her back to her room. Boohbah was fetched and she came down, too.

Jem woke up soon after. It took her some time to settle back down.

It's amazing how one lost night of "me" time wears on me.

::tangent for breaking events::
Bug is patiently waiting for me to finish typing so she can write her name (we open up word and try different fonts and word art). She just said, "Mommy, I LOVE you!" then started pressing my arm between her hands saying, "Squeek! Squeek!" Does anything beat that?
::end tangent for breaking events::

Jem went to bed easy tonight. KNOCK ON WOOD. Hopefully she'll stay down, as will Bug. Me time may just involve sleeping for me tonight, though.

Culture

Gah - You know getting back into the swing of writing is pretty difficult, especially when the puffs are all gone and Jem Wants More Puffs. Not to be consoled by Cheerios, which she was fisting earlier (and I have the movie to prove it, and it shall be posted sometime or another, sooner or later), she has taken to screaming on the floor at my feet. Bug, ever the Entertainment Director, ran to fetch her ball to bounce around and cheer Jem up. Even with the crisis diverted, I am having a hard time focusing enough to put together that first line.

Something about getting cultured made me start thinking about yogurt, but the thought isn't gelling for me. Whatever.

Over the last month I have experienced three new things involving the arts: A play (The Lieutenant of Inishmare), a show (Stomp), and an opera (Romeo et Juliette), the last two of which were over the last two nights. While I felt perfectly at ease at the first two, the opera made me feel a little out of place. Maybe it was because I attended it with mister mrtl's coworker, who has been enjoying opera since she was a kid, and I just don't get it. No doubt the talent was amazing and I would go to an opera again, but why sing the ENTIRE time? All runny? And repetitiously? In another language? Thinking of it that way, I suppose musicals are stranger, where one minute people are chatting and the next they're singing and dancing. If they're singing the entire time, at least it's believable. Like they're in some warped other world where that's normal.

There were other things here that I found distracting...

• Foul wind. It was throughout the performance but not during intermissions, so of course I was studying my neighbors to try to determine the source.
• Marination. So many people all dressed up and pretty with their perfumes and colognes.
• The conductor. His perfectly-round bald spot reflected the light, occasionaly flashing in my eyes, as he bobbed and waved his arms.
• The casting of Juliet. She was lovely and extremely talented, but not very youthful of appearance. Also, when the light caught her face, especially during the first act, she looked a little like Janice in The Sopranos. Not good.
• Bulges... and lack thereof. The men wore tights. It was very disconcerting to see such massive bulges on some men, and no bulges on others, and NO, I'm not including here the woman who played the boy. Mercutio and Tybalt's were both so extraordinarily huge, it was obvious they were packing some socks.
• Speaking of Mercutio... nice buns! Thank you for dying face down.

The Thai Thai Mai Mai

Remind me, please, in a more sober moment, to tell you about the extremely strong drink that I had at dinner tonight -- which, by the way, was beyond yummy -- and how I embarrassed mister mrtl so badly that he had to exile -- yes, I got the booty! -- me from the restaurant.

::tangent to include mister mrtl's side, whatever::

::tangent for further clarification::
To gain access in my current state, mister mrtl agreed to the terms of reading my post first (so that I wouldn't "embarrass myself"). Whatever.
::end tangent for further clarification::

mister mrtl insists that he wasn't trying to get rid of me, but that he didn't want me to be all loud and obnoxious on the phone in the restaurant, so I should make my call outside.

::tangent to give a note to mister mrtl::
Quit fucking huffing and puffing next to me as I try to type this. I'm not used to your fucking keyboard, so it's not my fault that it's taking me FOR E VER to type this damned post.
::end tangent to give a note to mister mrtl::

::end tangent to include mister mrtl's side, whatever::

Chances are, however, that I will forget all the sordid details of said event, as drunk as I am.

Sad to say that I did some drunk dialing tonight. I called my mother. Pathetic.

That said, loving our time in Hawaii. Home -- will end this post now because He's reading over my shoulder and correcting everything I say. Yes, I'm an asshole. Love you. LOVE YOU! Oh, yeah, roll over. Booger. pshaw.

Itching to Write

We now interrupt mrtl's current drama for a fit of fancy brought to you by The Daily Meme.

Five on Friday

1. What events shaped your life in 2006?

Being pregnant, and then not being pregnant affected me the most this year, with joy and with agitation. Medication managed to dull me for the second half of the year.

2. How about you proudest/biggest achievement of the year?

Hands down: Jem.

3. Did you keep any of your new year's resolutions?

Ummmm... What were they again? Oh, yeah. No. The Year of Me was quite the dud.

4. What is your fondest memory of 2006?

Laughter.

5. What are you looking forward to most in the new year?

Does it have to be one thing? Hawaii. Mister mrtl going to a day job. Spring (teaching Bug how to ride a bike and introducing Jem to chalk). Stanley. Working more on myself.

My Kind of Nail Place

It's nice to get a sanity break, to get out and finally get the nails done (what with the recent chomping and dryness and yuckiness of them) and watch one of the regulars get a good dose of harrassment during her pedi. Some of the choice joshing included:

Employee #1: Wow! There's a lot of crap on your feet! How long has it been since you've been in?
Regular: I'm not sure... [to Employee #2] How long has it been?
Employee #2: Smells like five weeks.

Employee #1: [after several minutes of using a callous remover on her foot] Can you feel it now?

Employee #1: [holding trashcan up to Regular] See all that skin? It's all yours! Do you want to take it home and put it in a shadow box?
Employee #2: I could make a sculpture out of it!

Note: Employee #2 was responsible for the most clever candle wax sculpture displayed on their front counter. He apparently got bored at work one day and let a candle drip. It looked like a dragon.

Bwopping, Evs

(The Evs is for Bill. Yes, I watch it. Dilana rocks.)

The nausea with my happy pill has abated over time. Fortunately I got into the habit of eating smaller meals, and I've managed to get down to 140. That was last week. I won't be weighing myself on Tuesday, admittedly because I'm afraid of what number I'll see after last night. My will power is still in question, especially when I eat really good food at expensive restaurants.

Last night I met one of the moms from a mom's group at one of the nicest restaurants in town. I couldn't stop eating. A bottomless pit I was. Gah! As I lay moaning, as still as possible, in bed last night, knowing full well that allowing my begging body to purge itself would immediately make me feel better but absolutely refusing to throw up one ounce of my $62.00 meal, I still couldn't believe that I ate so much. Rundown? Let's relive it and hope that I don't barf at the memory.

• Three slices of the bread with butter (I told mister mrtl two, forgetting the one I ate with my soup -- full disclosure, yo)
• Salad comprised of mixed greens, strawberries, blueberries, walnuts, bleu cheese, and raspberry vinagrette
• New England clam chowder
• Pan seared Parmesan and Asiago crusted halibut cheeks, served with garlic mashed potatoes and a medley of sauteed peppers and squash
• A glass of white wine (half a glass, really) and a ton of water
• Creme brulee (the only thing not finished by about 1/4)
• Can't forget the traded bites I had from my dining mates -- teriyaki tenderloin and halibut stuffed with dungeness crab and macadamia nuts

Everything was so ridiculously good. Even as I lay so still in my attempts not to gush forth with each small urp, I even relished the taste of the burps. Hello? I've never had a tasty burp. WTF?

And I felt hung over this morning. With only that small glass of wine, though, and more water than I can usually handle, I started to wonder. Was I drugged? Not a drug of the date rape variety, but one equally potent in loosening the inhibitions, weakening me to the point of being completely powerless to stop myself.

I can't wait to go again.

A Stolen Moment

Morning free time just doesn't exist here. For some reason, Bug's still asleep. I tried to wake her almost an hour ago, but she was sleeping too hard. I left her door open, but still she doesn't make a peep. No big deal. I'm relishing the moment, wishing I had some good coffee to sip while I relax with the cat lodged firmly against me, keeping my butt warm. I may have to settle for a Folgers bag, but I bet the second I get up to go downstairs, Bug shall appear with all her 2 1/2-year-old exuberance.

I think I'll take my chances.

----

Update: She emerged from her Moose cocoon as I walked back upstairs. Very well-rested, happy, mellow.