Wednesday, August 24, 2005 

I keep holdin' on to yesterday.

Ha ha! I bet I had you thinking I was gonna give this up, didn't I? Nooo, I'm committed to this blog dontchaknow. And hey, if anyone was wagering bets, I think it's only fair that I get a percentage!

Really, slip me some.

Over the weekend, we celebrated my Dad's 59th birthday. We took him to dinner at the Red Lobster where I consumed Aztec chicken because I don't like seafood all that much. Their version of a Bahama Mama is an interesting concoction though. This Mama was definitely thinking she was in the Bahamas after she drank a couple!

When dinner was over, we all headed back to give him his gifts and because my Mom got him one of these. Do you think it ever crossed her mind one time as she was salivating over the chocolate ganache that there was no way in my dermatologist's waiting room Hell that I could have even a morsel of that?

No. Not even a passing thought or the faintest whisper of a thought. Nothing passed through her synapses regarding my inability to consume chocolate without terrible, terrible consequences! And you know what the kicker is? Doctors say rosacea is hereditary and it comes from her side of the family!

All she said to me as I bemoaned my outcast state was, "Well honey, there's some Jerseymaid vanilla ice cream in the freezer you can have." Oh yeah, vanilla ice cream...woo hoo boy! Now THAT'S livin!
So I scooped myself out into a dish and silently told my inner rosacea demons to shut the *&%!?#$ up and be happy with it.

Monday rolled around and brought the start of the new school year with it. I am now getting up at 5:00 am to have enough time to take a shower, dry my hair and get my face put on before I drag the PRETEEN out of bed so that he can take a shower, drink breakfast (MILK) and collect our belongings before heading off to school. He has to be there by 7:30 and that leaves me with 30 minutes before I have to be to work. That's 30 more minutes I could have been dozing on the couch between plucking my stray eyebrows and wondering which piece of fruit has the least amount of mealiness inside.

My boss doesn't know what to think. Whereas I was consistently 15 minutes late everyday, I'm now going to be consistently 15 minutes early. And believe it or not, this makes for a LONG ASS day.

Yep, so even though it was nothing but whine, whine and groan, groan and bitch, bitch...I'm still here! :O)

Comments

Hmmm - thought I was workin hard... nothin on you. God u deserve a rich man with a plan.....
Love ya still and Ive never forgotten ya!
xxxxxxxxxx
Posted by: Brit

7:34 PM | |

Friday, August 19, 2005 

Tie me up, tie me down.

No, this post isn't about bondage. Well, I guess it could be if you think being ramshackled to your own life counts as daily adventures in the land of S&M!

Anyway, I've been meaning to finish my INXS story but have been busy with back to school shopping, selling bunches of crap on Ebay to fund the back to school shopping (seriously, are those shoes made of GOLD or what!?!), and getting all caught up on Rock Star INXS. I have my priorities you know.

Okay, I last left you with my best friend E and I headed to a particular California theme park where the boys from down under were playing a concert. This particular theme park had a lot of new wave groups play live throughout the 80's and there were no black, round ears on their heads. E also thought Adam Ant was playing there too, but come to find out -- he had taken another gig elsewhere, which was fine by us because we had been listening to Shaboo Shoobah nonstop on our Walkmans and were already loving all the songs.

So we get there and scramble away leaving my Mom and my Aunt to figure out how to kill 4 or more hours since neither one of them were into riding rollercoasters.

The line into the concert already snaked throughout the waiting area of the pavillion they were playing in. It was situated on the side of a hill and no breeze could get to us. We were all getting sweaty and bored, and the throngs of girls wearing ripped INXS t-shirts gathered in clusters to moan and mooch off strangers with sodas.

All I remember after that is somehow getting to be about 6 feet from the end of the tiny stage and jumping up and down constantly while screaming my brains out all of the lyrics to their music. I don't remember what the guys were wearing or what order they sang the songs in. I do remember that
Don't Change was the very last song and that somewhere in the middle of the concert these other 2 events happened:

1. E and I were so starstruck by these drop dead gorgeous men that desperation to meet them prodded us to scribbled some sort of honey coated dribble professing our undying love and devotion to the entire band and promising "acts" which we knew not of, but figured if we wrote them down anyway we'd have a better chance of our goal. We took the piece of paper and rolled it up in a small tube and tied it with a skinny hair ribbon E had been wearing, and decided that she would be the one to take aim and chuck it onto the stage whereby Michael himself would pick it up mid-song and read it while still singing, know miraculously and instantaneously it was from the 2 most beautiful girls in the third row that threw it to him and passionately motion to the concert staff to usher us backstage!!!

Shut. Up. It sooo could've happened!

So E launched our love note with all her might and it sailed, nay, it SOARED in slow motion over two rows of bouncing teenage heads, across a 3 foot wide trench of sweaty faced concert bouncers and kerplopped perfectly in front of Andrew Farris who although we were sure he was very nice and all, was NOT the intended receiver of our unrequited lust. After stomping on it a few times, he noticed something under his foot and looked down, bent over and picked it up. This incredible look of what can only be described as blankness took over his face as we watched him shrug his shoulders and set the scroll on top of an amplifier all while E and I kept screaming, "READ IT READ IT OR GIVE IT TO MICHAEL PLEASE ANDREW PLEASE!!!!!"

Less than 10 minutes later, half of the audience had figured out what we had done and began throwing their own notes, pieces of candy or gum, lapel pins, and whatnot at the stage much to the confusion of the band. They obviously hadn't experienced EVERY aspect of up and coming stardom as obviously no one had ever tossed anything before at the stage during a concert. Yet by the end of the "Chuck your stuff at INXS" free for all, underwear and bras started making it on stage which brought happier and more appreciative looks from the Aussie boys than squares of Bubble Yum did.

Which lead to event number 2. E decided that she would not be "one-upped" by anyone else in the audience and by GOD if our efforts to get the band's attention was going to be stripped away by all these blatant hussies, then she too was going to hussify herself. Sooner than you can say "Tie me kangaroo down sport" she took off her 36C racer-backed bra (because those were the only bras you could still wear tank tops with and not have the straps show which was a NO NO back then and not have your mother yelling at you to "house those girls" before you could leave the house), ripped it in half (she's mighty strong!), and sent one half flying Frisbee style to Garry Gary (my personal fave) and the other half to Kirk (even though it was meant for her fave, Jon).

After the concert was over, the only thing we regretted was not thinking to write our names and phone numbers down on the bra halves first.

And needless to say, when my Mom let us go on a few rides before we left that night, E found out that self-respecting modesty wasn't the only thing her Mom was trying to teach her!

Some time in the near future: Read my story about my other best friend Ape who got to party with INXS after a concert nearly 10 years later!

2:35 PM | |

Wednesday, August 17, 2005 

There he goes

My son is growing up.

I know. I know. Everyone goes through this. Mothers and fathers everywhere have witnessed the changes come over their babies as they make their transitions into adulthood. Some of those can be subtle undercurrents while others are lightning quick!

My particular 12 year old's voice has changed. Earlier this year, it was still high and 6 weeks ago it began to get really scratchy and gravelly. It never cracked though, not like Peter's did on the Brady Bunch. It just had the quality of an old torch singer's voice. I can almost hear what it will sound like in the future.

A few days ago we were both outside and I caught a glimpse of his profile. In addition to the light line of dark hair that's steadily been cropping up on his upper lip since Easter, WHISKERS -- WHISKERS people, are growing like dandilions on my baby's chin! I don't know if I'm going to have to buy him a weed-eater or a Remington!

His favorite feature as he changes though is the fact that he's as tall as me now.

Mr. 5 feet and 7 inches thankyouverymuch.

He laughs at me in a surprisingly nonpatronizing way when I tease him and say, "Very soon I'm going to be killing my neck and bending it backwards just to look up at you to yell, 'Did you take the garbage out yet?!?' or 'Don't take that tone with me, young man!!!'."

And then he leaves to go back to saving the world from invading martians on the PS2, while I wipe the little tears in my eyes away.

12:27 PM | |

Monday, August 15, 2005 

Did you notice if you turn a heart upside down it looks just like an ASS?

"Hey, wait. I've got a new complaint. Forever in debt to your priceless advice." - Nirvana

Yep, that's the selection my subconscious chose for my morning jukebox today -- yet again forcasting such a wonderful morning that I'm enjoying TO PIECES! Let's see, what shall I begin griping about first?

Well, after a hundred jillion years of dry, cloudless skies, last night around midnight, Mother friggin Nature decided she was gonna let one RIP and started in with thunder and lightning. I love a good electrical storm, just like any other non-midwesterner who doesn't have to put up with it day in and day out. But my 12 year old kid and 10 month old pug DO NOT.

Having turned in at 10 pm after an entire weekend of back to school shopping at the local malls where everyone else and their cousin and stepsister and Aunt Gory (yes, a name really overheard) were also shopping and taking up room and walking down the aisles so slowly and stinking like unwashed butt because it seems that the malls don't care if their 80 degree thermostat settings make their shoppers sweaty and smelly, for which after hitting about 20 stores we netted 1, count em...1 pair of shorts, it could be said that I was exhausted.

So, my brain won't shut up and my body is already dead and all I can manage to do is drift into a very light sleep where I'm not sure if I've really been asleep yet or if the time that's gone by is miniscule because I know myself well enough that if I turn over and see the true time, it will only make my brain THAT MUCH MORE over active than it already is. Then the fun starts.

PRETEEN comes in my room, clutching the dog and shakes my shoulders saying, "Mom, I just heard some really loud rumbling and I don't know what it is."

To which my reply was, "hmmmmwhaddiditsoundlikethunderorabigtruckssnnnnooorrreeee"

"I dunno Mom but it scared me and Piper is scared too."

"gggrrrrcanyouseelightningorheadlightsgolookoutthefrontwindowssnnnnmmppphhh"

"Mom, MOM!!"

"mmmhhmmm"

"It IS thunder cause I looked outside and there's bigass lightning going on!!!"

Oh joy. Rapture.

By this time the dog is trying to pry herself loose since she doesn't really relish looking out the window at midnight.

"Honey, let Pie go, so she can get in bed with me, and we're safe in the house so please go BACK to BED."

"But I WANT to hold her, it makes her feel better!"

"It makes YOU feel better and if you don't let her go, she's gonna bite you on the nose and I'm going to drag your ass up at 5:30 so you can get ready and come to work with me and find out how much fun it is not to get to sleep in for one more week until school starts!!! OKAY????"

"Fine!" Emphasized by the sweet sounds of stomping and a slamming door, followed by a muffled "Sorry" because he knows even though I'm tired, I WILL get out of bed and kill him for such insubordination.

Thank GOD school starts next week! :O)

9:16 AM | |

Wednesday, August 10, 2005 

I'm gonna take you over.

1.....2..........2 and a half..........2 and three quarters.........2 and five.......oh just do it already!

THREE!

{blink blink}

TAH DAH, I'm just one of jillion estimated people who will start their own blogs today and lend their opinions to the growing cacophony on the internet!Personally, this is the third and a half blog I've attempted myself. You know, they just don't last when the excitement and newness of it all wears off. Then, my blog address that took me hours to come up with something memorable and catchy gets thrown out in the collective waste basket of neglected, moldy net garbage, and all the time I spent working on the design part of the thing is wasted......sigh. I'm really trying hard this time though and have confidence I can keep it alive for, OH....maybe 45 days.

So yeah, when I do, I'm going to throw an online celebration for all of my loyal readers and give away a fancy car, a trip to Jamaica and a diamond encrusted Rolex. Yep, just as soon as I find my fairy godmother or deaf and blind sugar-daddy, cause you know, that's the only way THAT'S going to happen.

I've written before that I love reading blogs more than I love writing my own. I've had the distinct pleasure of expanding my reading repertoire lately with some slap-ass funny bloggers who in just a few posts of their own, unknowingly re-inspired me to start this venture yet again. So here it is: "it's written all over your face" my blog...which is a line from the INXS song "New Sensation".

There's a few reasons for calling my blog by this name. First of all, I'm not the kind of person who can hide things very easily. Usually people know up front what kind of mood I'm in by glancing at my visage which is just one of a million reasons I don't play poker (inability to put on a poker face -- just in case you weren't able to follow that line of thinking there), but that's another story.

Also, I was diagnosed last year with rosacea which is not all as fun as "My you're looking rosy-cheeked today" as my former boss liked to joke. Yes, rosacea sufferers learn to live with this cure-less condition and what foods, activities or situations trigger the outbreaks. Suffice to say that merely LIVING triggers mine!

Secondly, I have a tendency to wake up in the morning with a portion of a song playing over and over in my head. Some mornings, I stumble to the bathroom mirror and see the fugliness of left over mascara I missed the night before and the new connect the dots pattern my outbreaks have created with "I like big butts" stuck in my subconscious like a broken record.

This morning, the voice of the lost and lovely Michael Hutchence comes screaming out of my inner stereo, "LOOOOVVVVEEEEE baby LOOOOVVVEEEEE....it's written all over your face. There's something bettah, we can do, than live forevah. And that's the reaaason why I'm heeerrrreee." Or something like that. I've been listening to all of my favorite INXS songs lately because I've been enthralled by the summer CBS reality show, Rock Star INXS to see who's going to front the band now. I think Jordis, Ty, Marty or MiG would be great choices.

Which also makes me reminiscent about the spring of 1985 when E (one of my best friends from high school) and I begged my Mom to drive our fishnetted-flouncyminiskirt and pastelcolored-tanktop-underthe-neckcutout-ofthesweatshirt-soyourshouldersshowed-wearing selves to a theme park to see a semi new to the USA band who was playing there. She was way ahead of everyone at our school with her taste in music, and I owe my love for Duran Duran, Billy Idol and all things SKA to her!

Anyway, she was forever reading SPIN magazine or the cool magazine from the Sunday LA Times and told me that Adam Ant and this Australian group of hotties were in California playing small venues and did I want to go see them with her? Also, her Mom wouldn't let her go most places unless I went too because her Mom and Dad thought I was this safe and stable influence in her life and maybe I was, and maybe I was also dying to be adventurous and sublimely cool like her.

Coming soon: We beg my Mom to take us until she flat out gives in.
I hope you'll come back to my humble little blog and hear the rest of my story!

Comments

YAY! my fellow rosacean is up and running...
looking forward to reading more!
Posted by: Whoorl

1:00 PM | |