The Glass Slippers

Time for Change

I have moved!

I am now here, at BellaDrama under my middle name of Marie, instead of Aithne.

Please come visit and change your linkie dinkies!  I would love to still have all of you visit!  Stick with me as I move my blogroll and other links.

See you soon!

Marie (Aithne)

A busy day!

I have way too much to do today.  It is going to be warmer and I would like to trim my roses and other gardening tasks.  But of course I have to buy a new pair of pants for dress down day tomorrow and various other things that we need around here to keep the family all happy.

In other news, I have gotten a response from Typepad for the new blog.  I screwed up big time several times this week when it comes to blogging.

First I thought my copy/paste problem was only related to Typepad.  Then as time went on, it manifested in other programs.  Duh.   That open ticket is resovled now. 

THEN...I go and get the new blog set up and forget my password only to find out I type my email address wrong.  One letter off and now I can't retrieve my password via email.  Typepad is working on it.  I can not tell you how mad I was at myself for doing that.  If I had been wearing my glasses, that would not have happened.

Now if only I had figured out their Help Ticket system sooner. 

I am feeling very, very silly right now.

Soooo much fun!

I met up with my BF of all times and we took our kids to a pumpkn farm for the traditional pumpkin picking, hayride and corn maze.  The corn maze was amazing.  Yep kept saying "Amazing".  I have never seen corn that tall.  After a while we got a little spooked and decided to just bust out of it.  The boys even got spooked when we caught up to them,.

But it was just a beautiful day and I was just grateful to be out and doing something instead of sitting around the house doing the house cleaning and laundry.

I of course came home to a strange piece of mail.  JA's brother's wife, our SIL, received a thick envelope from a financial company.  It had this on it.

Ms. Name Lastname
My Address

Our first names begin with the same letter.  I think it is weird that have gotten some mail over the summer that was address to the BIL and now this?  All of the mail has somehow been related to financial things.  It makes me uncomfortable.

I am curious to open it.  In fact I almost did because of the names and initials.  It was the "Ms." part that caught my eye and I did not open it.  I never refer to myself as "Ms" these days.  A quick "up to the light" scan revealed a letter addressed to her addressing some kind of financial needs for children with handicaps (our nephew has a severe form of C*P).  That part I cand make out and that is it.  I am sending it back to the post office as "Return to Sender.  Not at this Location". 

We just can not get away from those people!

Soooo much fun!

I met up with my BF of all times and we took our kids to a pumpkn farm for the traditional pumpkin picking, hayride and corn maze.  The corn maze was amazing.  Yep kept saying "Amazing".  I have never seen corn that tall.  After a while we got a little spooked and decided to just bust out of it.  The boys even got spooked when we caught up to them,.

But it was just a beautiful day and I was just grateful to be out and doing something instead of sitting around the house doing the house cleaning and laundry.

I of course came home to a strange piece of mail.  JA's brother's wife, our SIL, received a thick envelope from a financial company.  It had this on it.

Ms. Name Lastname
My Address

Our first names begin with the same letter.  I think it is weird that have gotten some mail over the summer that was address to the BIL and now this?  All of the mail has somehow been related to financial things.  When her father and then our FIL died, she ended up coming into almost a $100K in one year and blew through it like water. 

I am curious to open it.  In fact I almost did because of the names and initials.  It was the "Ms." part that caught my eye and I did not open it.  A quick "up to the light" scan revealed a letter addressed to her addressing some kind of financial needs for children with handicaps (our nephew has a severe form of C*P).  That part I cand make out and that is it.  I am sending it back to the post office as "Address Unknown". 

We just can not get away from those people!

Icky Trivia Questions

1.  What is a row of crows called?
2.  When someone dies standing, does the body fall backward or forward?
3.  Within one pound, how much does the skin of the average person weigh?
4.  If you could spend an evening conversing with any person, living or dead, which person would you choose?
5.  What has four legs and two arms?

She had the voice of honey

and the sales technique of person who had been selling and pitching from birth.

She had an accent that was feminine and hypotizing.  She was not pretty in the traditional sense but still pretty in a unique way.  She wore no makeup but for a bit of miniscule glitter around her eyes.

I was in another world.  I had just bought a $200 suit for $40.00 and splurged on three tops that were half off.  Seeing this is the first time I really have done anything for me that was not out of necessity in many, many months, I was marveling to myself that I had forgotten how to use a debit card in the mall, the stores had changed, and there were Christmas decorations up.

She must have seen the glazed look on my face and thought, "Sucker!" and moved in for the kill.

She had a little kiosk right there in front of Big Bucks Store and caught me as I exited.

I was hooked immediately.  And she became Blogfodder for the rest of history.  For I was just thinking to myself that I needed something along the lines of a good product to help my natural nails come back from the acyrlic process for ten years.  (It was a co-worker who told me acrylic was out and natural was in.  Otherwise I would still be doing it and not be free from the endless cycle of Nail Fills!")  My natural nails actually look good and are very strong and I attribute that to a good nail technician.  But they are growing very, very, vvvvvveeeeerrrryyy slooooow.  I also had the need to do something so totally, selfishly and dangerously for me and no one else but me.

And so that is how I met the Gypsy Nail Product Girl.

How did she know?

I walked away after spending $48.52 and did not feel guilty AT ALL!.  She tried to sell me the whole kiosk and I kept saying, "No! No No!" and tried to run away, but she threw in the Dead Sea Salt Scrub which is supposedly $59.99 for $15.00.  By then I was a goner.

Believe me, I am tight with my funds these days and it felt so sinful to spend it and even more tonight when no one was home.  I locked myself in the bathroom, ran a good bubble bath and pampered this weary body while sipping wine and listening to the sound of silence and sniggering to myself that this was my little secret and JA need not know.  Then again, JA does not do the budget anymore and how WOULD he know.  ~snigger~

At the first signs of feeling guilty, I squelched those thoughts and said to myself, "Hey Lady!  You have been through hell, and yes you have better things to spend money on, like medical bills, stuff for the kiddos and food! Oh and new shoes (you should see my shoe wardrobe!  I don't care for fancy shoes, just  more stylish would be fine.  Deplorable!)

I did not like that she just kept putting products in my bag without asking and kept my debit card in her hand longer then I ever held it.  But yet I could not walk away after her demonstration.  I chose the scent of almonds which is the "Scent of Love" she whispered to me.  It just smelled damn delicious and fresh.

It wasn't until I got home and got a closer look at the product that it dawned on me...

It is the exact same stuff my former co-worker used and she had the most beautiful nails!  I loved the scent that followed her around all day.  In fact all my co-workers have beautiful hands and like this stuff.  I just never paid that close attention to the name.

Either we are all suckers or have good taste.

But my hands have never felt so yummy, soft and healthy!  And it felt so good to "find" myself again.  I have always loved good products and took good care of myself.  But after looking in the mirror these days and finding I look more haggy then shagalicious, well...whatever.  I spent the money and feel gleefull!

Fear in the elevator of doom.

I had to go do something for a client today.  This took place in another building down the street.  One that has some branch of the FBI in it.  That fact is only important for the train of thoughts my mind took as you will see. 

The meeting took place downstairs in the ampitheatre.  I walked past a beautiful sculpture of three dolphins arching out of water that poured down their backs to make it look like they just jumped out of the pool. 

While riding the open-sided elevator down one flight, mind you, ONE flight! - I became completely panic-stricken.  The elevator did not open right away.  I could see the doors in front of me, but when I turned around, the glass revealed fancy cement walls.  Cement walls nonetheless.

So here I was, stuck in the elevator with tons of water almost over my head, surrounded by cement, in a building which has a federal office and I am thinking..."We've been hit!"  I was there probably just a minute but that was enough to make me think I was going to die in there.

Brrrrrrr!  That was just so wrong.

I caved on Over The Hump Day

This evening  I am just sitting back, making some of this dip.  We are going to watch this movie.  Yeah that is right.  I am sure the twins will hate it.  Then again, Sarah looks pretty darn good there. 

I sit here and think how damn lucky and blessed I am.  Yes, it has been a hard few months.  My BGF told me yesterday that we have been through more in the past year then all the people she knows combined.  So I just try not to think of it all.  After all, I have the roof over my head, a job and a healthy family.

I have to yabber away here about my job.

I am so mad! I could spit!

I finally thought of a new name for my blog.  I set up the account and everything.  Buuuuut I sent the wrong email address and now can not get access to the new blog.  I had a new logo and everything.  I wonder how long it will be before I get a response from Typepad?  I mean these things are all automated right?  I mean they will send the response to the wrong email address for a while.  grrrrr

Feeling sad and then this happens...

Yep, I was feeling down. Blue. Horribly lonely and sad. Spent the whole day thinking of myself. The kids are with friends down the street, so they were not a worry. The depression was really getting bad. Then I saw IT. This cartoon just totally had me laughing my ass off. I just was not expecting it. It was barely legible on the blog (from where I do not know, laughed so hard that I lost track of the blog). But when I clicked on it and it became visible... Well, laughter does cure a lot!

My House Feels Sad and I Need a New Blog Name.

I am very sensitive to the "feel" of a building, place, home...whatever.  And now I  have realized that my home feels sad to me.  Heavy hearted, depressingly SAD. 

Really, my dog gives hugs. And a rare pic of one of my twins!

Man does my house look messy in pictures.  And yes, that is Gypsy's blog on the computer.  I was visiting her when my son came in to show me the "Hug".  Really the pooch will stay in that position even if you let go of his butt and walk around!

The Bimbo Cell Phone Incident

Yesterday my Rav4 would not start!  ~GASP~  Toyotas ALWAYS start!  No matter what!  It did seem sluggish in the morning but when I went out for lunch to pick up the kids from school, it would not start.  All the bells and whistles came on just fine.  It just would not start.  So after thinking I was doing something stupid and sitting there like a fool, I accepted the fact I was not going to be able to make it on time to pick the kids up. 

So I called Tim's cell phone. A girl answered.  I stupidly asked for Tom instead of reaming out the girl.  She says there is no one at that number with that name and hangs up on me.

Just boring stuff.

I have a Clean Fridge Obsession.  It is almost like an addiction. 

Today I had to clean out the fridge.  I usually do a nice cleaning with every batch of new groceries, but today was the Big One.  The one where you take everything out and become horrified at the gross stuff you had stored in there and you marvel at the fact that no one has died while sifting through the shelves.

The one we have upstairs has been in our posession for 4 years now.  Inherited after the FIL death/MIL nursing home move.  It has taken me until just this morning to realize that the two bottom shelves on the door are removable!  Does anyone know how much easier this has made my life?

Geez!

And to think the directions on how to remove them were RIGHT THERE IN MY FACE!

See?

Oh the joy!  The Joy I tell you!

Day of the pumpkins.

This morning I was lamanting the fact that it is October and I do not have a single pumpkin.

This is like having Christmas without a Christmas tree for many people out there. 

Normally I have about a dozen pumpkins throughout the yard and inside by the end of September, if not earlier.

This year, I have none.  This is because of various nasty reasons.  And it made me sad.

BUT...!!!  Things happen in mysterious and magical ways sometimes.  Family and friends noticed this lack of pumpkins and KNEW something was not right with Aithne this year.

I was gifted, yes gifted, EIGHT pumpkins today by three different people.  Some of which, were homegrown. 

That in itself was very, very magical.

My Social Life

The twins schedule for the past 48 hours:

10/14/05
~  Go to friends house to spend their day off.  11:00 AM - 4:00 PM
~  Go to HS Football game with friends.  7:00PM - 9:30PM

10/15/05
~  Get up, do chores.  Wash mom's car, vacuum basement and clean room.
~  Phones ring all day long.  (Their friends you know.)
~  Wait for ride to Indoor Skatepark of Death.  5:30 PM
~  5:45 PM. old friend from grade school calls and invites them to spend the night.
~  Leave for ISofD.  6:00 PM. 
~  Neighborhood/high school gang shows up and wants to hang out.  Mom say they are at ISofD.  "COOL!" is the response.
~  Phone continues to ring with various friends.

My Schedule:
10/14/05
~  Work
~  Home

10/15/05
~  Wake up
~  Clean house
~  Make friggin pierogi recipe from hell.

Can we all spot my glaring lack of a social life?

My Heritage

Click here for proper musical accompaniment

A few weeks ago I decided to honor the Polish blood in me.  Up until recently I thought I had 1/2 Polish blood, 1/4th Slovak and 1/4th Austrian.  The new German blood is a new revelation that Nana told me about just a few weeks ago.  She never told us family members because, "Back then it was not important and no one cared about their family heritage like they do now with this new interest in family trees".

Translated:  It was not cool in America to admit you got married right before WW2 to a man with German blood.  And you don't tell anyone about it until your husband has been dead for 17 years and even then you tell your grandaughter.  Not your daughter.

Ok, it does not not matter to me.  Just babbling.  I decided it would be really cool to make some homemade pierogis.  Just like I remembed helping Nana with when I was younger.

Well, let me tell you something.  Time most certainly has softened and blurred that memory.  Because my arthritis in my hand is throbbing, my back hurts and I don't ever want to see another pierogi again. 

Click here for continued proper musical accompaniment.  Sorry, I don't know how to add it properly and  I am too exhausted to figure it out right now.

I know I did something wrong with that damn dough.  It was like trying to roll a bowling ball flat instead of a carefully executed recipe of flour, eggs and water.  I did remember how to crimp the edges after the first dozen.  And by the fifth dozen, I had doned a bubushka, my boobs had stretched down to my navel and I had a full head of gray hair.

Damn if I did not feel like an old, wizen Polish woman.  A woman who knew how to make some kickass pierogis and to hell with the rest of the village.  I am the Pierogi Queen.

How the hell did my Polish ancestors live on these things?  Or shall I say, how did they survive after making them?  All I know is that I wanted to crawl into a hot bubble bath and sip some Chardonnay.  A luxury I am sure my ancesters never had.  I did manage to feed the twins who said they were really, really good.

But I am not sure if that was the truth or they were just buttering me up so I would give permission for them to go to the Indoor Skatepark of Death. (notour skatepark link, but you get the idea).

 

At a loss for words.

This is sad, so don't read it if you are feeling the least blue.

They want me to die.

The "They" is my family and other realms.

First heart attack in the making:

Seeing a spider crawl across my ceiling over my bed this morning.  I of course was sitting on the bed.  I mean where else would one be sitting when they spot a spider? 

Right.  It is always directly overhead.  I still remember my BF one day running, or trying to run, out of her bathroom because she spotted a spider.  Overhead.  While on the loo.

Anyways, my spider was not just A Spider.  This was a spider with it's own fertility factory on it's butt.  And of course you know this thing was hauling ass across the ceiling.  I of course was clad in undies, no bra and one foot in my pantyhose and the other foot on the floor. Sorry for the visual.  That was just for the idea of the panic that followed.

Now maybe others react faster.  No wait.  I know others react faster in these situations.  I am a Virgo and I have the strong need to rationalize through the stituation.

First thought is to Killkillkill.  Then "NO!"  It is a life and I will bring bad Egg Sac Karma upon my household and the next 30 generations of Aithne Family.  Then next is to get the vaccum and suck it up.  No.  That won't work for obvious reasons of the dreaded and much feared Spider Family Retaliation.  Back to the kill theory because by now my freakin' visitor has high-tailed it to my curtains.  I am now in total freak out mode. 

Did I mention it had an egg sac on it's back?

And that is not the thing anyone wants to see crawl into their curtains that lie over their bed.  Where they will lay their head and most likely open their mouth and drool a little thus leaving and open doorway for little spiderettes to venture. 

I will admit thinking for a moment, that I could jump on the bed and end it's nasty existance in a gory mess and the hell with my disgust of spider guts.  But as it will happen, I was semi-nude and you know that means the drapes would be open.  I am not exposed to the anyone at my first floor level, but jumping up and down on my bed will expose me to my neighbors who live at a lower altitude than I.

That was out. 

I was saved from any spider massacre decisions by the puppy who happened to saunter by me and then sit at my half naked legs.

He had red on his back leg, front paw and his chest.

MY GOD!@(@#*$(#  The dog is bleeding to death.   First though was the spider somehow had gotten to him.  By now I have now finished putting on the damn nylons.  After all, this is life and death and I at least need to have some type of clothing on me.

And there was red on the floor.  Bright, bloody red marks.

And when I went to remove it, nothing happened and he seemed joyous to be held.  Indeed this was some new kind of game his mommy wants to play instead of being in her car on her way to work.

I later surmised the pup got ahold of a red pencil of some type that had a bright and glorious shade of Chinese Red for a coating.  Chinese Red and White Bischon make for a splended polka dotted puppy.

That was Heart Attack in the Making Number Two.

Number Three was twofold.  The first part with DH (grrrr) calling to complain about something on his job.  Like I am in the position or have the time to listen to the same old same old.

The second part came when he called to inform me that I have to cancel his cell phone.  Instead of just coming out and telling me why, he had to give me a dramatic story of how it got stolen out of his truck and he has no idea "how they got in".

A brief flash of seeing red, literally.  Then anger.  After all, it occured to me that all major expenses that should not have happened this year, well, he seems to be at the root of it through carelessness.  I was at work and just had no more words.  I hung up on him while he was yammering out yet another excuse as to why it is not his fault.

I am now sitting here, locked in the bedroom with the puppy.  The twins are in tears.  Because yet again, I came home and found the bathroom door open and the pup had an accident, they went to cut the grass without picking up the extension cord (AFTER I CLEARLY TOLD THEM IT WAS THE FIRST THING TO DO WHEN THEY GOT OUT THERE!) and this all of course after yelling.  Enough is enough and I will sip my wine and travel the internet.

How much more is one expected to take.  How many more messes and situations am I expected to clear up, clean up and sanitize?

 

You know you want to do it!

Theresa at Flying Piggies has hit upon the most perfect solution for those "Cadillac Mom's" (and Dad's) we all have encountered while dropping our kids off at school.  Image one of them surfing the net and seeing their own picture up there on the screen in their full Asshat Glory.

Now I say we all form a Bloggers Against Annoying Asshat Parking Lot Moms *BAAPLM's* , and do what Theresa is thinking about and post our pictures of the results!

Alas, I would have had daily fodder to post from the twins grade school days.  I endured the daily asshatisms of Dad Who Would Not Park Normally DWWNPN for years.  He would lovingly give each child a nice hug and "pep" talk while the rest of us would back up behind him.  He also smoked and never rolled the windows down so his kiddies got love and second-hand smoke in one nice package.

Then there was "Dirty Daddy".  I use that word to describe everything about this parent.  His car was always filthy, his hair looked like this  all the time but greasy.  His clothes were, well gross looking.  Now if DWWNP was not there, then DD would be.  It never failed.  DD would sometimes sit there for a half hour or more passing homework, papers and whatever back and forth in the front seat.  I swear to god they were doing her homework right there in front of the school at 8:00 AM.  Stuff a normal parent would do the night before. 

THEN there was I Drive Nothing But Fancy Vehicles Mom.  DNBFVM was a complete annoyance.  She too thought the spot that was off limits to the rest of us was Her Spot.  She was always the one that had to escort her kid into school every morning and tie up traffic.  She thought she had me fooled, but noooooo.  I had her figured out.  She was insecure and tried to hide it behind New and Pricey Vehicles every few months.  I caught her checking me out waaaaaay to many times after I got my new car.  That to me is insecurity.  I parked in that spot TWO times in the 11 years we were there.  Once to pick up my son with a head injury and another to pick up a son who was having a bad asthma attack.  I always wanted to hit her.

Oh then there was the time that DWWNPN parked in the left side of the drop off and DD parked exactly one car to the right and completely blocked me in.

It was not a pretty sight and DWWNPN never did that to me again.

Now we have a new school and new Parking Lot Asshats.  For what can be said, the teenage drivers have been mostly polite but with one exception, Parking Lot Asshat in Training.  SHE thinks the stop sign is somehow turned around and facing me, not her.  She has a lot to learn.  And we have Lexus Mom with Curlers in Her Hair.  She somehow manages to take up THREE whole lanes every morning.

Theresa, I can so relate when it gets to the point that you start to enjoy it.

We all have our stories!  Share them with me!

So Bloggers Unite!  Let's get those photos of these Parkinglot Asshat Moms PAM's(or Dads - PAD's) and post post post!  Winner takes all if you can get the principal enroute to admonish the PAM/PAD while waving congenially to you and clueless that you were the one who phoned in the complaint.

And for what it is worth, the twins are silly, out of control and totally hell bent on humiliating each other this evening.  I should have known.  Today they got their school pictures.  This is a ritual in our house.  This is Picture Ridicule Day and is a yearly tradition.  I don't have the heart to tell them that they look totally identical in their pictures to the point that only what they are wearing gives me a clue as to who is who!