Moleskine Moments

It's Been a Long Time Since...

2006-11-09T10:53:00.000-08:00

...I wrote anything in this blog. I'm taking a screenplay writing class this semester, with Greg Mellott, and it's kicking my ass. Writing to show is so completely different from the work I do five days a week and all of the creative writing I've done in the past.

I have wanted to quit so many times this past 12 weeks (4 more to go). I've been completely blocked and so very frustrated.

My daughter (the 20 year old) is taking the class with me. She put it all into perspective for me. "Mom, just get through this semester. It will all come together after this class is over." Ah, my perfectionism rears its ugly head - I want to be perfect in every way (the first draft out) - I want to blow my professor's mind with characters so deep and so profound that he'll stop writing for Hollywood and come worship at my feet. THAT ain't gonna happen.

I think the daughter is right. I also know I have to go back to writing something everyday to clear this creative blockage. Writers write, right? We've been talking about writing something together (we ping ideas off of each other very well) and Greg is willing to read it when we're ready. This is a really, really cool thing.

And it feels really good to write in this place, again.

Just How Many Moms...

2006-05-12T19:08:00.000-07:00

...can say that their child (birthed, adopted, foster or otherwise) proudly presented a "Look what I grew for you - for Mothers Day!" Lima Bean plant?

It's T-Ball People...

2006-04-29T21:16:00.000-07:00

...NOT MAJOR LEAGUE BASEBALL!

I keep score for my son's t-ball team. Its a great time watching the kids, chatting it up with the other team's scorekeeper, and yelling out all the stress I've built up during the week.

Tonight I got a taste of what I'm in for, if the boy wants to continue playing ball. Coaches taking this game WAY too seriously, intentional delays in the batting line-up, calling time outs in the weirdest places! What the hell? Mind games? You're teaching these six year old kids mind games?

To all you Little League and any other kid league coaches...ITS NOT ABOUT YOU!!!!!! Guess what those kids are thinking about! Here it is Coach - I don't care about the wins - I play for the drink tickets. Seriously Coach, take a look at what those boys are really doing. My kid just High-Fived your kid because they both tried to get to 1st (one with a ball in his glove, one trying to run through & on to 1st). Its a good play, but the runner is called "out" by the ump. Is this somehow a problem for the kids? Hell NO! Again Coach, here's what they're thinking - Dude, that was sooo cool how you caught that ball - I was almost safe, but you tagged me - that was awesome!!! High-Five Dude!!!

It took me 44 years to figure out why the world is so screwed up. Tonight all was made plain. And here's how to fix it all:

SIT DOWN, SHUT UP, AND ENJOY THE GAME.

Shit Happens...

2006-04-10T19:40:00.000-07:00

Warning - The following blog is extremely gross and not intended for the weak of stomach. If you are easily nausiated or grossed out please step away from this blog. The blogs to the right of my posts are much better suited to a gentile spirit. Please, think about this before you continue to read this blog....Oh God, you're still reading...okay, you have been warned.

This post should shine as a warning to all those thinking about going on a diet of mostly eggs, meat, and green leafy vegetables.

The first few days were great. I lost at least a pound or more a day. I had to eat three meals and two snacks a day. Being a proud member of the Clean Plate Club, it seemed like a good idea at the time.

Tuesday afternoon I felt discomfort in my lower back. I had increased weights on my regular gym routine; so I didn't give it a second thought. By Wednesday morning I couldn't rotate my torso on one of the Nautalis machines. Hmmm, maybe I pulled something on Monday.

Wednesday afternoon I found the urge to meditate on my boring corporate job, from the women's restroom - every 10 - 15 minutes. And now my stomache added a dull cramping to the mix.

Ten minutes into my 40 minute Wednesday afternoon commute home - my whole lower GI warned me to pull over. Yeah, where? Its all highway miles! Thank God for Lamaze classes (22 years ago)! In the early stages of labor - long cleansing breaths. I was way beyond that and heading into "transition" - Hee Hee Hah, Hee Hee Hah - You're fine, you're fine, you're gonna be okay...

I had this horrible urge to push. I fought the urge with all my might! I broke out into a clamy cold sweat. Oh, thank God, 39th Expressway (which is a sick joke really; there's nothing express about it) I spot a Taco Bueno on the right, but apparently Wednesday is "Asshole Drivers Day" and I was pushed further upstream in the middle lane on 39th.

The second wave washed over me at 39th and Ann Arbor. Hee Hee Hee Hee Hah, Hee Hee Hee Hee Hah Hair plastered to my cheeks and forehead as the cold sweat runs down my face. My hands are numb from the grip I have on the steering wheel. I'm okay, I'm fine, I'm fine, I just want to get home.

The intestinal insurgency declared war on the third wave. I could do nothing to stop the rebel forces of three days of a diet gone horribly wrong. There was nothing to do but roll down the windows. I thought of a Comedy Central's Margaret Cho special I saw last year. I was mortified, discusted and yet not alone. I have to thank Ms. Cho for being there in my hour of need - because her experience, stuck in L.A. traffic with the same lower GI adventure, is the only thing keeping me out of therapy.

Pulling up into my driveway - kids playing outside, the new neighbor watering her flower bed - Oh Lord, please make me invisible until I get in the house . Opening the front door I called for my unsuspecting husband. The man, who for nearly 16 years has heard me fart only once. This is gonna blow his mind.

He ran the shower for me...a little too cold. And since he was there - why not take a pee? When the cool water hit my shaken body - the insurgency declared Armageddon. By now, my mind has separated from my body and is observing (with commentary) Oh man! I had no idea my stomache could hold that much stuff. Damn, I ate those mushrooms three days ago. Jeez, puking in the shower is really loud!

Once over, I cleaned the shower, thanked God for Margaret Cho and leather car seats (had they been cloth I would have thrown the car away). I made myself a cup of Earl Grey and saw my husband staring into the T.V. "Are you okay?" I asked him. His voice soft and kind of far away "Yeah, I'm okay." "Are you grossed out?" I asked. A half-smile "Yeah, kinda."

"They should add a detailed list when they ask 'For better, for worse'." I said as I gingerly sipped my tea.

"Yeah, no shit."

He's Waited a Lifetime for this Moment...

2006-03-30T14:11:00.000-08:00

When my son was two years old he fell in love with a movie called "The Sandlot". It's one of those almost-coming-of-age movies that you can watch with your kids (although, to be fair there is an "Oh SHIT", but I think it was the right thing for that character to say at that particular moment in the story). All of my kids love it. And in my boy's mind, he is Benny "The Jet" Rodriguez.

So, the other night is the first game in the round-robin tournament of the PCO League, T-Ball division. It's cold, it's windy and these 11 kids are so excited. I look like a grey Umpa-lumpa in my "Mom" t-shirt, pulled over my grey sweatshirt. But I'm a warm Umpa-lumpa.

The umpire calls "Play ball!" and my son takes a swing and a miss. Strike one. He tightens his grip, chokes up on the bat and takes another swing. It connects. It's a line drive to Third base. The ball passes between the Third baseman's legs and heads to the back fence. "The Jet" steps firmly onto First base and makes the left turn to Second. Center field over-throws past Third base. "The Jet" rounds Second and heads straight to Third. The pitcher over-throws to Third and "The Jet" hits the bag and heads straight for Home. The umpire moves the tee off of Home plate and "The Jet" slides into Home. The look on my son's face spoke volumes as his behind slid across Home plate - grinding Oklahoma-red dirt into the white uniform. "I've been waiting my whole life to do this!"

Why it's So Cool to be a 5 (almost 6) Year Old Boy...

2006-03-13T20:42:00.000-08:00

...because you take great joy in slurping down a huge gulp of soda pop...you wait for it...wait..for..it...BELTCH!!

Tonight he received a bonus:

From one end of the house, "MOM!!! I BURPED AND A FART CAME WITH IT!!!"

WARNING...Rant Ahead...

2006-03-10T19:26:00.000-08:00

Dear Dial Soap People,

Please stop running that ad with the lady that holds the door open with her foot, so her kids don't get germs on them. The encouragement of this kind of behavior is disgusting!

I mean really, where have her shoes been all day? Do you know? Take a look at the bottom of your shoes! How socially irresponsible are you people, anyway? Gum, dead bugs and random dog turds (horse and cow turds if you're a cowboy/cowgirl - goat turds if you're my boss) - that's what you'll find at the bottom of your shoes. And yet you encourage your customers to behave so morally reprehensible as to spread E.Coli, BugColi* and GumColi* to the rest of us just so you can sell us your overpriced - watered down soap (although the foamy thingy is cool)!

And about the whole idea of protecting our kids from all of those germs. Kids are suppose to have regular germs all over them. That's what makes them snot-nosed little brats!

Signed,
The mother of a currently snot-nosed guy; probably due to the germs from the dog turds he picked up off of the bathroom door handle at Walmart.

*Though some words could be considered non-words, no real harm was done to the English language during the making of this rant.

Wichita...Wow...

2006-03-10T18:47:00.000-08:00

(The title to today's entry is one of those "inside things"; so inside, in fact, that were I to go through the complete history of why this is meaningful for my father, my uncle, and the guy that said this (though I seriously doubt he'd get it) your final reaction to that extreme effort would be: "Uh, yeah - I guess you had to be there." And, it really has nothing to do with this entry...sort of.)

Next week I get to spread my business traveling wings and drive to Wichita, Kansas. This will be the first time I stay at a Hyatt. I've enjoyed the many flavors of Marriott, Hilton, and Sheraton Hotel properties (some in Wichita). Now it's Mr. Hyatt's turn. I wonder if there is a Mr. Hyatt. I've met Mr. Marriott, Jr. Nice guy. Despite Paris' antics, the Hilton folks have been consistently good - from my perspective.

I'm looking forward to exploring Old Towne. I hear its similar to Bricktown in OKC. There's more places I'd like to see but I have one night in Wichita...Wow - and then its back to OKC.

Gary, I dedicate this business trip to you.

Plastic Bags are Evil...

2006-03-03T15:48:00.000-08:00

I don't know if plastic grocery bags are common everywhere else, but here - they are EVERYWHERE! And they all want to get tangled up underneath my car. I dodged three or four of them today. They dance gracefully, slow-motion like, across the highway as we bolt from concentrated job centers. Once they spot MY vehicle they go on their suicide mission, straight for the bottom of my car!

Over the last year I have had to pull off of the highway, multiple times, to dislodge the molten hot mass of plastic from my front axle and engine block. I see them floating; being gently tossed around in the air - up, down-up, and then BAM! they make the mad dash. They get sucked in at the front and never make it out the back. Shit! Put my right turn signal on. Luckily, everyone around me has seen the "Thank You for Shopping with Us" plastic suicide attack - and they make room for me to change lanes to get off the highway.

Today I was lucky. The guy in the new Lexus SUV...not so much. From the look on his driving companion's face - it wasn't his first plastic grocery sack suicide mission rodeo. Give him room folks, give him room...

Guy Friendships...

2006-03-01T19:51:00.000-08:00

I love that my son has a good handful of boys in the neighborhood, close to his age and that he will most likely grow up with them. My daughters had the same thing, for the most part, too.

But the girls' circle of friends changed considerably as they got older. I'm told by men that I know that these boys' friendships have a good chance of lasting a lifetime. That is such a good thing...except...

...there's that one kid - the one that you want to ask, "Hey kid, would you like a little cheese with that whine?", and complains when he doesn't get his way (at a particular dB that hurts my ears) and then says he's going home (but rarely does).

After he actually did live up to his promise to "...take my toys and go home!" I had to ask, "If he complains all the time why do you guys play with him? The other three said, "I don't know, we just do."

This Just Tickles Me...

2006-03-01T19:44:00.000-08:00

...that all of the gentle souls that read this blog from time to time - are now subscribed! I wish you could have heard the squeal and giggles.

And this is going to sound dorky as hell, but I have to admit that throughout the day, when I would remember that there are 4 people subscribed to this blog - well...it just made me smile.

And...if the trend continues, 3 out of the 4 will unsubscribe when they realize what they've done. 'till then - I'll just sit here and giggle to myself.

An Interesting Trend...

2006-02-26T08:00:00.000-08:00

...at least its interesting to me.

About six months ago I placed an RSS feed thingy on this blog. It wasn't long before I had one subscriber. I still don't want to know who it is because I might be devastated (sort of) to find out that the one subscriber is me - because I clicked the RSS feed thingy wanting to see how worked. I've written an entire post to that one subscriber. I'd feel pretty damned silly if I had written "Ode to My 1 (and only)..." to myself. So its best I don't find out one way or the other. Reality is highly overrated.

Anyway, back to the interesting trend. Ever since that first subscriber the blog will get a #2 subscriber from time to time - for about as long as it takes to post another moleskine moment. Soon thereafter #2 is gone and its just me and #1.

Now that this trend is officially documented here I must confess - its not that interesting. Just something to be filed away in the "Things that make me go - 'hmmm' - category.

Time's a Flyin'...

2006-02-20T20:48:00.000-08:00

Holy Moly! My oldest daughter is now as old as I was when SHE was
born!!!

Her other mom (we never did use the "step" or "half" hyphen "parent" or "sibling")called to wish ME happy birthday - because it's the 22nd anniversary of my giving birth DAY! And what a day that was! 7Lbs, 14.5oz and 20.5 inches long. A little mass of red hair and from day one she could stare a person down, size 'em up and go with her gut (and be right every time). At the ripe old age of 5 days she was held by a friend of her father's and proceeded to projectile vomit all over him. Yeah, she called it right!

I tried to have my husband call her first thing this morning. He didn't understand how important it is to be awakened to the tune of "Happy Birthday", being sung off key and at max dB. He wussed, and waited to make the call. So she was awake when he finally did.

Of course, she is 22 years old now and a bit wiser. She was awake early, with coffee in hand - waiting for our weesley attempts to jar her from her slumber.

So now its official. Although I am not a grandmother (and that's perfectly fine with me), I am now old enough to be a grandmother.

Ultimate Act of Futility...

2006-02-13T14:24:00.000-08:00

My son has some kind of nasty infection that entales antibiotics. Doc suspects its strep, but it didn't culture right off the bat for him. But, every other kid that came in today did culture right off the bat. Plus, no matter what it may be, it is bacterial.

Now its just a matter of time before I come down with it. I can take vitamins, minerals, gargle salty concoctions...its all futile. I'll come down with it. And that's okay, because I'd rather kiss and hug on my sick boy than try to avoid the unavoidable and not even get a hug and a kiss out of the deal - when I do come down with this particular brand of creeping crud! (How's THAT for a run on & on sentence! Take that grammar police!)

God willing, my husband will not get it at all. I'd rather have it twice.

All Kinds of Pissed Off...

2006-02-09T11:41:00.000-08:00

...with a co-worker.

I don't usually blog about work but MAN! Public humiliation is just not okay!

Here's the thing. Our office has a coffee fund. Most people pay the dues regularly, some don't. Granted, as an employee of this office you would have agreed to the terms or you wouldn't drink coffee. But plastering the names of those not paid up on the office refrigerator? What's next - a loan shark/enforcer?

And that isn't even the really pissy part. The really pissy part has to do with who this campaign was launched against. I think most offices have that one guy...the one that nobody can really like - although we've tried. Honestly, I can't stand him either - but socially bully him...NEVER COOL! And the "enforcer" putting the pressure on through incessant email reminders all morning long...this guy is no jewel either.

AND - its not like this coffee is good and worth publically humiliating another person.

Now, if you'll excuse me - my water is boiling - I think I'll enjoy a cup of Earl Grey today. Thank you for allowing the momentary venting of frustration.

Have a lovely day.

Something Else I can't Do...

2006-02-02T19:34:00.000-08:00

Have you ever looked at an abstract painting, had a bout of sticker shock when you see it sell for $25K (American) and say to yourself, "Damn! I could do that!!"

A blob of paint here, a smere of paint there - and then place that dog turd just so...

Yeah, well I can't do that anymore than I can dance. I can't draw to save my life. Not impressionist, realism, abstract or stick man - I got nothin'!

How do guys like Neal (hope your birthday was fabulous!) do it? What is missing on my double helix that inspires comments like - "uh, its a...uh..yeah, I don't know what it is."

The Illustration Friday site had "Free" for a subject a few weeks ago. "I could do that!" Out came the Moleskine. I started to doodle...dare I say sketch...a big bunch of baloons. Looking over my shoulder my son says "Ooh, nice football, Mom!"

Reading is fundamental...

2006-02-02T16:49:00.000-08:00

The boy is at that stage where he knows the English alphabet backwards, forwards and out of sequence. But why should he learn how to read when Mom can do it for him?

I've tried to encourage him with "...and you'll be able to learn anything!" Okay, but Mom could still read it to me if I asked her and said Please. So I tried a bit of a bribe. "And when you learn how to read I'll buy you comic books." He didn't say it, but I suspect he was thinking, Why don't you just buy the comic books and then read them to me?.

Yesterday, I found the one thing that sparked his imagination to the usefulness of reading. "As soon as you learn how to read you'll be able to tell when Power Rangers SPD is on by reading the digital cable guide on the TV without waiting for me to stop washing the dinner dishes to tell you when it's on."

Happy Birthday...

2006-01-27T19:43:00.000-08:00

...to Neal. Mr. Porkpop will be celebrating his 40th birthday on Saturday (GMT). In your honor I will be playing Wild Cherry's "Play that Funky Music White Boy" while cleaning my kitchen.

Farting in Public...

2006-01-26T16:13:00.000-08:00

...it wasn't me this time - I SWEAR!

Today's been one of those days. All of my best laid plans have gone horribly awry. The meeting that I absolutely HAD to be at was cancelled 20 minutes before it was suppose to start. I had so many other things to take care of today - and had been scheduled off to do them (for weeks ahead of time) - and then they moved this meeting to today. And then they cancelled it. Well, crap! Looking for the silver lining - the gym where I work out is closer to my office than my house, so I used the unexpected down time to get a good workout (and work out some of the frustration).

Then it was off to the dentist office, pick up my son and get him to school. But I turned right instead of left and ended up miles out of my way. Fine, I turned around, found the dentist office, kissed my husband (he was in the chair this time) and off we went.

When at the gym, and then the dentist's office I really should have taken a few moments to go to the bathroom. But I was in a hurry and my son's kindergarten class would start in 30 minutes and I was 35 minutes away. Having to really, really, really need to pee and being stuck in traffic on Northwest Expressway is so painful. I finally pulled into a gas station and made a be-line for the restroom. Yeah, I'd have never made it to the school and then home.

Miraculously, the boy was not late to class. Now its time to do a little grocery shopping, but I have to pee again and the checkbook is at home. I make a right turn coming out of the school's drop-off/parking lot and wouldn't you know it - the road is closed!! Agh! Half of the road is being re-surfaced. Shit! Now I have to go four wheeling in a car that was never designed to go off-road. So I'm taking it really, really slowly. And I still have to pee.

I get home, go pee, find the checkbook and head out to Walmart. The produce is over-priced and looks like hell. A child is throwing an exceptionally physical temper tantrum and I'm in today's winner of the Painfully Slow Cashier award checkout line. I read "O Magazine" cover to cover.

I have 40 minutes before my son is out of school (kindergarten is only a half-day). Just enough time to unload the groceries and put them away...if the car would start. Gggrreat - ruh, ruh, ruh, click, click, click. Lovely - a dead battery. Call the hubby. Oh, wait - he's at the dentist. I need a good Samaritan. I find one at the Walmart's auto care center. He has a charger/jumper thingy and vvvrroooom! Baby comes to life (that's the name of the car)! "You want, we can test da battry." 30 minutes 'till school's out. Okay, its worth the time. "Uh, ya gunna need a battry." I ask him how long its going to take - "Uh, bout fy mints." Okay, do it!

And this is where it happened. The farting in public. I'm standing in line behind this very lovely, proper looking, elderly woman. She farts...Loud. "Pull my finger" loud. All immediate concerns fade. I'm trying hard not to laugh out loud...and I'm trying to breath as shallowly as possible...I'm waiting for the smell. Behind me I hear, "Oh DUDE, did you fart?" I try the pointing-with-my-eyes trick. Shit - they think it was ME! AND THEN the smell greeting us - I mouth "It wasn't me - I swear.

Then and Now...

2006-01-24T18:35:00.000-08:00

As my son dashed out the door "I'M GOING TO GET THE MAIL!!!" - I remembered how excited I would get if I retrieved the mail before anyone else. And if, just if something was for ME?!..(or to Occupant) That was the shits!

Here's a few Then and Now comparisons:

Then: "I'LL GET IT!!!" when the phone rings.
Now: "You gonna get that?!"

Then: Candy (especially sour)
Now: Chocolate (especially dark)

Then: Jumping off of high places. I jumped off my neighbor's roof countless times.
Now: I won't jump off of a chair after changing a lightbulb in the kitchen (not to mention the anxiety attack I have on the way up).

Then: Car trips.
Now: 40 minute commutes to and from work.

One view that has not changed since I was a kid...fireworks displays., and dancing to "Play that Funky Music White Boy" when ever humanly possible.

Interesting that...

2006-01-24T18:10:00.000-08:00

...our society can't support a show like "The Book of Daniel" but we're totally on board with something like "Fear Factor".

Now I know where Fear Factor's producers are getting all of those tasty steamed testicles for their contestants to eat...NBC executives!

Losing it...

2006-01-22T19:43:00.000-08:00

I can't remember the name of the patron saint of lost things. This lapse in memory could not have come at a worse time.

Last year we started a video for my dearest friend's brother. This tape holds the moments of last year's Christmas, Easter Sunday's Egg Hunt, 4th of July and at least one birthday party.

Did I tape over it (God forbid) or did it make it's way to the same parallel universe where all miss-matched socks go when sucked out of the dryer? Either way, I fear its gone forever. And I feel like utter shit about it's loss.

This morning I called her to confess. The phone felt heavy in my hand. The buttons so hard to push. And here's the thing about friendship - she forgave me. She was disappointed that I had carelessly misplaced a precious year of her family's life. She forgave me - and apologized for being a bother.

Shit. I really want to find that tape!

MLK Through a Five Year Old's Eyes...

2006-01-14T21:31:00.000-08:00

"Mom, I don't have school on Monday!"

"I know! It's Martin Luther King, Jr. Day."

"What's that?"

"It's a day for celebrating and commemorating the life and work of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr."

"Was he a nice king?"

Smoke Gets in Your Eyes...

2006-01-05T19:47:00.000-08:00

The grass fires have been wicked this week. Oklahoma is not on fire (entirely) despite national news reports, but the smoke in the air has been a real pain.

Would someone please do a rain dance or two? I'd do it, but as I mentioned last year this white girl can't dance.

How to get a 5 year old to eat...

2006-01-03T21:15:00.000-08:00

...just about anything:

1. Tie it to her favorite story. The oldest daughter was dooped into eating beets by her step-mother. Yep, the end-all-be-all Queen of Mac & Cheese also loved the story "Heidi". So her step-mom worked beets into the story, and then served them with dinner soon there after ("It's Heidi food!"). Of course, she was busted once our girl learned how to read and realized that there were no beets mentioned in "Heidi".

2. Name it after his favorite vacation spot. Tonight I wanted my son to try sweet potatoes. He wouldn't go near them during Thanksgiving and I didn't push it. But sweet potatoes are so wonderful. Even my dad likes them now. So, tonight I asked the boy if he'd like to try "California French Fries". And as expected - he love them!

I wonder if I could get him to clean his room if I told him that having the toys IN the toy box was "California Style".