1. Visit Delphi
2. Tour Paris through Anne Rice
3. Be a size 6!
4. Take a painting class
5. Publish a novel(la)
6. Stay at a B&B in Iverness, Scotland
7. Get a Joker & Harley Tattoo
8. Spend a day with a forensic scientist
9. Help at an archaeological dig
10. Swim with sharks
11. Visit Stonehenge on a Wiccan holy day
12. Have a wedding ceremony on Halloween
13. Get on stage at Mary Kay Seminar
14. Win a pink Cadillac
15. Go to a Robbie Williams concert (or meet him)
16. Learn Hebrew
17. Visit Norway
18. Party with my daughter in Amsterdam (the tradition continues)
19. Build my own house (full bar in the entry way and hidden game room are a must)
20. See a show on Broadway
21. Pose in Playboy
22. Have an English Garden
23. Voice over for a cartoon
24. Record a cover album
25. learn to play the piano
26. learn to play the guitar
27. travel with my daughter to a new place every year
28. Learn to waltz
29. be with my daughter for her first tattoo
30. Go iceskating
31. Build a snow fortress (that I can sit in)
32. Meet JK Rowling
33. Visit Kings Cross on September 1
34. Donate enough money to build a new building at C of I
35. Be a Mary Kay Millionaire
36. Be a C of I Trustee
37. Have a real library in my house (ladder and all)
38. Own a new & used bookstore
39. Spend a summer traveling Israel
40. learn to sew well
41. Visit Boston in the fall
42. See Juno Alaska
43. See King Tut
44. Take a cooking class
45. Do past life regression
46. See Shakespeare performed in England
47. Learn Gaelic
48. Visit Lyme Park
49. Tour Chatsworth
50. Taken an overnight trip on a train
51. Spend a week in Bath
52. Take a picture of an apparition
53. Enjoy teatime in England dressed in a Regency gown
54. Dine in a Castle
55. Be in a Band
56. Get David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson's signature
57. Have a compost bin
58. attend a cowboys game
59. take my daughter to Disneyland
60. Go to the Harry Potter Theme Park
61. Be a Mary Kay Director
62. Create a music video
63. Start an annual family gathering
64. Start a book club
65. hold a book signing
66... to be continued.
14.3.08
Poop
Aurora may have finally pushed me over the edge last night.
Aurora is OCD. Everything is a mess (unless she creates it) and most things are poop. that teeny tiny piece of black fuzz? EEWWWWW POOP. Momma POOP. Her arm extended and her finger straining as though she can will the "poop" to disappear if she simply points hard enough.
That pile of crumbs on the kitchen floor I swept but forgot to vacuum? Momma, mess. Eww.. messsy poop. Oh my goodness, you are absolutely right you little freak it is a mess. I’ll clean that up right away because your gratefulness is so endearing. thaaaaaank you momma. thank you! the tension flows out of her body and she can smile once again.
but last night as I let her run around in JUST sweat pants (no diaper) and I turn around for 2.4 seconds to turn back to a pile of LITERAL SHIT on the floor I hear no screams. No wishing it away because it is gross and most DEFINITELY poop. instead she tries to take my hand and lead my downstairs completely ignoring the poop as though it was someone with a booger hanging out of their nose (better ignored then helped).
And when I ask her if that is IN FACT poop. She nods. Is that your poop? Yes momma. I turn her around and see nothing on her pants. She magically shit directly out the bottom of her pants. Although when removed it had run an obvious course down her leg and sock.
I snapped. I couldn’t deal with her all night. HOW, especially when a dust bunny threatens the plague because it is certainly POOP and not dust, does one shit on the floor and ignore it?
And then I listened to the Juno Soundtrack tonight and the line that I never got...? I finally got it and laughed hysterically, "dance around and shook a little turd out of the bottom of your pants"
Aurora is OCD. Everything is a mess (unless she creates it) and most things are poop. that teeny tiny piece of black fuzz? EEWWWWW POOP. Momma POOP. Her arm extended and her finger straining as though she can will the "poop" to disappear if she simply points hard enough.
That pile of crumbs on the kitchen floor I swept but forgot to vacuum? Momma, mess. Eww.. messsy poop. Oh my goodness, you are absolutely right you little freak it is a mess. I’ll clean that up right away because your gratefulness is so endearing. thaaaaaank you momma. thank you! the tension flows out of her body and she can smile once again.
but last night as I let her run around in JUST sweat pants (no diaper) and I turn around for 2.4 seconds to turn back to a pile of LITERAL SHIT on the floor I hear no screams. No wishing it away because it is gross and most DEFINITELY poop. instead she tries to take my hand and lead my downstairs completely ignoring the poop as though it was someone with a booger hanging out of their nose (better ignored then helped).
And when I ask her if that is IN FACT poop. She nods. Is that your poop? Yes momma. I turn her around and see nothing on her pants. She magically shit directly out the bottom of her pants. Although when removed it had run an obvious course down her leg and sock.
I snapped. I couldn’t deal with her all night. HOW, especially when a dust bunny threatens the plague because it is certainly POOP and not dust, does one shit on the floor and ignore it?
And then I listened to the Juno Soundtrack tonight and the line that I never got...? I finally got it and laughed hysterically, "dance around and shook a little turd out of the bottom of your pants"
13.3.08
Great thing about being a mom
we get to refer to things with one word. It explains everything. A dress.. no matter WHAT it looks like is pretty because it is a dress. It is "princess". Particularly pretty shirts and skirts are also "princess".
Not so cute things are referred to as "cozy". Now, this is where it gets a bit tricky, because not everything "cozy" is ugly. so we may jump to a point where a particularly "cozy" sweater is a "cozy princess". but for now I enjoy the simplicity of it.
A world where cars are just cars and trucks just trucks and vans are...well.. they aren't trucks so they must be cars, too. Most things are yellow. Especially pink, green and purple. Blue is blue and the MOST wonderful thing about Blue now a days is some of our favourite things are Blue (Blue from Blue's Clues, Blue from Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends).
Things are yummy or yucky, hot or cold... we don't have to mince words about how she may have liked the green beans but the bacon and onions she could have gone without, or that one hidden portion of oatmeal was piping hot and the rest varied from cold to luke warm. There is more or no more. Do it or stop it. and very little logic or rationalizing.
This has been doing something amazing for me. I like it or I don't. I'm tired or I'm awake. I'm mellow or I'm hyper. I'm crazy happy or insane mad. I have an opinion or I don't (and the best thing is I'm learning that more often or not I DON'T and that is absolutely liberating). I am remembering who I want to be and why I want to be that way and every one who gets in my way I will tell, "no more".
Not so cute things are referred to as "cozy". Now, this is where it gets a bit tricky, because not everything "cozy" is ugly. so we may jump to a point where a particularly "cozy" sweater is a "cozy princess". but for now I enjoy the simplicity of it.
A world where cars are just cars and trucks just trucks and vans are...well.. they aren't trucks so they must be cars, too. Most things are yellow. Especially pink, green and purple. Blue is blue and the MOST wonderful thing about Blue now a days is some of our favourite things are Blue (Blue from Blue's Clues, Blue from Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends).
Things are yummy or yucky, hot or cold... we don't have to mince words about how she may have liked the green beans but the bacon and onions she could have gone without, or that one hidden portion of oatmeal was piping hot and the rest varied from cold to luke warm. There is more or no more. Do it or stop it. and very little logic or rationalizing.
This has been doing something amazing for me. I like it or I don't. I'm tired or I'm awake. I'm mellow or I'm hyper. I'm crazy happy or insane mad. I have an opinion or I don't (and the best thing is I'm learning that more often or not I DON'T and that is absolutely liberating). I am remembering who I want to be and why I want to be that way and every one who gets in my way I will tell, "no more".
7.3.08
requiem
perhaps because the words, "you're just to good to be true.. can't keep my eyes off of you..." were floating softly from my computer earlier in the day, or because I saw a picture of the Joker, I had another Heath Ledger dream.
This one was even more disturbing than the last (where I traveled back in time to the day before his death and was supposed to help him). I cannot explain this weird connection to Heath (no, we were not on a first name basis before the dreams started). I have seen most of his movies and liked most of his movies. But he was never one of my obsessions nor did I even realize how many of his movies I had actually seen until recently.
My only explanation at this point is the lingering image of him as the Joker in my subconcious. My obsession with Mistah J is one more easily lumped into an obsession with Batman for most people. The fact that Christian Bale was always my ideal Mistah J, but that hope was squashed when he contracted to play the Dark Knight himself may also play into these odd dream sequences. A bitterness? Perhaps even a sad illogical hope that Heath proves himself with this role because I did not expect him to, but crave for a true Mistah J on the big screen and I cannot easily dismiss Heath now he is haunting my dreams.
For most of my dream Heath was a monster. A human, but most of the worst scary characters I have ever seen. Recalling scenes I can almost name some of them, perhaps Krueger, Hannibal, victims from the Saw movie... Most of the dream focused on how this being could become what he was.
How did the Joker become the Joker? Most people have seen Burton's original Batman so it is no surprise to hear acid bath. But the dream was more like learning about the evil within showing through, the horrors, the character in my dream seemed much like the barely living dark lord, Voldemort, slimy and small, squalling. I cried a lot being forced to see this human being turned into this horror. A visual mind fuck.
The sweetest part of the dream was after the acid bath. While my mind's eye showed far too much detail, and my dream self cried and wretched at the visions before me, when it was over Heath emerged from his deadly cleansing and he looked tired and burned, but calm. It was as if the bath had literally cleansed the nightmare away, took away all of the pain and evil and I softly said his name while his eyes closed and I helped him sooth his face with the white makeup of the Joker. I have never seen him more beautiful.
This one was even more disturbing than the last (where I traveled back in time to the day before his death and was supposed to help him). I cannot explain this weird connection to Heath (no, we were not on a first name basis before the dreams started). I have seen most of his movies and liked most of his movies. But he was never one of my obsessions nor did I even realize how many of his movies I had actually seen until recently.
My only explanation at this point is the lingering image of him as the Joker in my subconcious. My obsession with Mistah J is one more easily lumped into an obsession with Batman for most people. The fact that Christian Bale was always my ideal Mistah J, but that hope was squashed when he contracted to play the Dark Knight himself may also play into these odd dream sequences. A bitterness? Perhaps even a sad illogical hope that Heath proves himself with this role because I did not expect him to, but crave for a true Mistah J on the big screen and I cannot easily dismiss Heath now he is haunting my dreams.
For most of my dream Heath was a monster. A human, but most of the worst scary characters I have ever seen. Recalling scenes I can almost name some of them, perhaps Krueger, Hannibal, victims from the Saw movie... Most of the dream focused on how this being could become what he was.
How did the Joker become the Joker? Most people have seen Burton's original Batman so it is no surprise to hear acid bath. But the dream was more like learning about the evil within showing through, the horrors, the character in my dream seemed much like the barely living dark lord, Voldemort, slimy and small, squalling. I cried a lot being forced to see this human being turned into this horror. A visual mind fuck.
The sweetest part of the dream was after the acid bath. While my mind's eye showed far too much detail, and my dream self cried and wretched at the visions before me, when it was over Heath emerged from his deadly cleansing and he looked tired and burned, but calm. It was as if the bath had literally cleansed the nightmare away, took away all of the pain and evil and I softly said his name while his eyes closed and I helped him sooth his face with the white makeup of the Joker. I have never seen him more beautiful.
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