Two Fwont Teef

Things are still a bit hectic so until I'm finally able to catch my breath...

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to everybody!

Sibling Nuttery.

I wish I could say this was a "once in a blue moon" thing... unfortunately, we're this nuts every single day since we were born.

Death by Photobooth

Because apparently, I need MORE reasons to feel like an idiot.

Head vs. Wall

What NOT to do while you're in a fight with your girlfriend:

1. Do not come up with reasons and explanations WHILE she's still ranting.  During the heat of the moment, your explanations while valid, will only come off as EXCUSES.  Let her run out of steam, wait for her to calm down and THEN explain yourself.  She's more likely to listen to you and understand your point of view when she's not seeing red.

2. Never point out that she's done the same stupid thing you've done to piss her off.  That's just asking for more trouble.  Again, wait for her to calm down and then point out as nicely as possible that she's expected to follow the same rules she's set for you.  Waiting for the right time may take a while but it's a small price to pay to shorten the fight by days or weeks.

3. Never, under any circumstance, let her see or hear you compliment another woman unless the woman in question is closely related to you by blood.  To do so while you're fighting is monumentally STUPID and insensitive.  Unless of course your objective is to be the biggest jackass in the world to get her to break up with you.  If so, then success is just around the corner.

4. Don't correct her grammar, spelling or typos while fighting.  Don't correct her period.  That will just fuel her anger.  Sometimes letting a woman rant and rave uninterrupted is the fastest way to defuse her anger.

5. Never ever try to calm her down by suggesting anything remotely sexy or naughty in nature.  That will just make her feel cheap and destroy any chance of you ever getting her in bed again.

And lastly but most importantly... NEVER be glib or attempt any tongue in cheek humor while your woman is pouring her heart and soul out to you.  That is totally disrespectful of her feelings.  Not to mention the fact that by taking her feelings lightly, you are validating her fears and insecurities.  And showing her what a complete emotional moron you are.

What TO DO while you're in a fight with your girlfriend.

1. Think BEFORE you say or do anything.  Think long and hard.

2. THINK AGAIN.

Tastes Like Chicken AND Rainbows.

This is the one and only item on my Christmas list.  Yes, I am weird.  Yes, this borders on the macabre.  Yes, there's a huge possibility that I'm never getting this for Christmas.  

But a girl can dream.  And dream she shall.

I was born to own this.  Unicorn meat is MY destiny.

Frosted. Floral. Feminine.

 

I've always been proud of the fact that I'm no girly girl. I don't make a fuss about make-up, dresses, jewelry and all the other frou frou crap that come with all things female.

I like wearing t-shirts, jeans and beat up old Chucks.  I don't squeal, I am not familiar with designer handbags and purses, I tie my hair up without caring if I look like I'm about to tackle a month's worth of laundry AND I can barely tolerate anything pink... despite my heroic efforts to pretend otherwise.

So... when my boyfriend decided to surprise me with pictures of frost-kissed flowers that he took just for me, I morphed into something I've been trying to suppress my entire life - a girl.

And I am ok with that.

Drive By Blogging

This is going to be real quick so don't blink!

I'm doing better.  I'm bonding with the Squid.  I am still in love with the most awesome man in the universe.  My boys are still off their rockers but adorable nonetheless.  I saw a man almost get beaten to death by an angry mob.... aaaaaaaand...

I had cold pizza for breakfast.

Will post more tomorrow or the next day when I have more time.  Right now, I am off to bed.

Princess Penelope, AFK.

Sidless Sourgraping.

I miss the little Squid.  We finally had to give him back to his Mom and Dad because they miss him too.... but dagnabit, I miss the little bugger so much.

I haven't been this in love with a baby since... forever.  My Elijah's 17 and he's gone way past cute and adorable AGES ago.  I may have been this crazy over my niece Soleil but I doubt it.  I mean, it's totally different with Squid.

I have patience... oodles and oodles and oodles of patience with Squid.  I had N-O-N-E with the other kids.  Absolutely none.  With Squid, I'm more hands on.. more involved.  More playful, more attentive... more everything.  That doesn't make me a horrible aunt, does it?  I mean I love all the other kids but... I love Squid the most, I guess.

How can I not?

Look at that face and tell me you're not already head over heels in love with him.

 

P.S. It goes without saying that I am also head over heels in love with my three fluffy boys - Percy, Arnie and Squishy.

Rainy days and Thursdays...

Always makes me bust out in song.  Why do I always feel the need to go mellow every time it rains?  Mellow songs, feel good movies, comfort food...

Today's more than just a rainy day though... today's a sick day too.  I twisted my ankle last night AND my immune system decided to bog down so I have the flu too.  Usually, that would be enough to make me hate the world BUT... Mom took care of me, made me soup, busted out the comforter and kept me company while I was shivering the sickies out of my body.

And I had the boys snuggled up with me.

See?  I can turn my own frown upside down.  So there. ♥

A Room with a View.

So today was spent in a room with the most amazing view.

Bazinga.

That statement would only be true IF amazing really meant dreary and view meant blank wall.  Nonetheless, fun was had.  I finally had time to catch up on my reading plus I got to spend a few hours just laughing my brains out with a friend.  

Mostly, I'm just glad to be alive, semi-well and kicking.  2 out of 3 ain't bad, all things considering.

Urgh.  My thoughts are so fragmented and all over the place.

Alrighty then.  

Princess Penelope, AFK.

Hey, Toby!

It's official.  I am a Big Bang Theory addict.  I've watched all the seasons over and over again.  I know most of Sheldon's zingers.  I can rattle off plots and characters and their backgrounds.  I'm a veritable lexicon of everything BBT-ish. 

Like I said, I'm a geek and proud of it.  However, I'm proudest of the fact that I've somehow rubbed off my borderline fanaticism on my mother and kid.  At odd times, we would be rattling off one liners or particularly funny repartee at each other.  Mom would be Leonard, my son would either be Raj or Howard and I'd always, always be Sheldon. For some reason though... no one wants to be Penny.

Anyway, so lately we've all been calling each other Toby.  Or Angie.  Depends really.  All I know is, there is fun to be had every time we bust out the BBT.

So, I'm off to TRY and watch the latest episode of BBT online because the option to download it has mysteriously disappeared.  Drat.

Just call me Ms. McGrabbyhands

I can't count the number of times I've literally hyperventilated over gorgeous handcrafted goodies or marvelous books that I've come across on the wonderful world wide web.  And since my boyfriend only acknowledges the existence of plushies when it's about our boys and all my girlfriends are busy being mommies or amazing career women, I thought it'd be a good idea if I shared my lovely finds with you... yes you.  

I guarantee you'll find something you're going to like (or maybe even love) too by the time you get to the last item on my list.

Best Hobo Bag Ever.

What can I say?  I'm a tunic kind of girl...

Because I do.. I really do.

Spock = Sheldon = ♥

Mmmmbrains.  Err I mean, tea.

Oh... sheets ♥

So... found something you like?  I will strive to do one of this as consistently as I can but it's common knowledge that I have the tendency to get distracted easil... oooh look at this:

Simply gorgeous, innit?

Yeah, yeah that's a dress.  There are days when I allow myself to be a girl.  Get over it already.  But yeah, anyway... my inspiration for this post is Mrs. French over at bliss.  Her I heart Monday posts are just overflowing with pretty, amazing things.  Most of the stuff I have here, I saw on her blog first.  I look forward to her posts.  I hope one day, you'll look forward to mine too.

There's always a first time for everything...

Ok.  So despite being teased mercilessly by my man and his sons, I'm going to stick with this color scheme for a bit.  I still maintain that it's NOT pink.  Only pinkish.  Big difference.  Although, now that I think about it... the background art looks like the Kool Aid mascot met a Rorschach test and they went buck wild loony on each others' asses.

I have a warped, warped mind.

Anyhoo... changing the blog design is the first step to a more difficult undertaking - changing the tone of this blog.  Until recently, most of my posts have been borderline manic-depressive.  Or just plain reeking of negativity and angst.  Well, this is a conscious effort to shift towards a more positive outlook.

Oh I'll still be the sarcastic, mean bitch everybody has grown to love (hate?) but I'll be making more of an effort to post about the positive things.  AND post on a more regular basis.  Which really, on top of the original plan, is a HUGE undertaking in itself.  

But, I shall persevere.  I shall move forward.  I shall revel in the pinkness of it all.

See?  Positive thinking.  I suspect I'll sound more sincere as time goes by.  Meanwhile, hold my hand and tell me I can do this, ok?

Two steps east of weird.

It's official.  I can't visit etsy without going into a mild Igottahavethis anxiety attack.  Everything is just so... drool-worthy.  My bookmark library is bursting at the seams with err... bookmarked etsy pages, crafting blogs and flickr profiles.  I spend hours clicking on links, right-click-saving-image-as on pictures of oh so wonderful things and mentally kicking myself in the ass for not paying attention to my high school Home Ec teacher.  Had I listened... sigh.  Hindsight is indeed a pain in the ass.

Some women dream of Mr. Right on one knee, velvet box in hand, sparkling diamond engagement ring inside.  I dream of Mr. It Took You Long Enough on one knee, velvet box in hand, Amigurumi Carnival Clown Cake engagement ring inside.  See the big difference?  Thing is, I would hands down, no doubt be happier than most women because my man gets me enough to splurge $24.50 plus shipping on a ring that I'd cherish more than any diamond ring in the world.

Still the same dream, only slightly skewed.  And tons better.

Some women dream of meticulously interior decorated condos, with modern impressionist paintings hanging on some walls and central air conditioning.  I dream of a studio loft haphazardly decorated with handcrafted plushies and modern flea market finds.  With a room specifically for my collection of Shawnimals (dagnabit that's a legitimate word! stop telling me it isn't!) that will undoubtedly be legion and amazing.

Again, the same dream, only slightly odd.  And loads better.

I'm never going to outgrow this intense love I have for all things small and just two steps east of weird.  And that is just fine with me.

Delirium. Madness. Rage.

Sometimes, don't you just feel like screaming at the top of your lungs?  For no real reason, if only to exhale.  Vent.  Release.

Do you catch yourself feeling as if you're churning with anger, literally seconds away from spewing venom that's been eating away inside of you?  

I know some people who could take their anger and channel it towards something positive.  Something beautiful and calm.  If you look at them closely, you could see them struggle and win over the rage.  Their expressions going from agonized to serene.

I'm different.  I take all that anger, all that negativity and just let it fester.  I don't let go of it.  I don't try and channel it into something positive and calm.  No.  I hold it in and I hold it in and then one day just let the fury unleash.  

And then some poor unsuspecting schmuck would get his heart ripped out because he misspelled my name or spilled a drink somewhere within a 2 mile radius of where I actually am or... I don't know... breathe.

I inherited the fury from my father... it lives inside me.  It didn't die along with him.  In fact, I think he left me all his unreleased rage and now I'm just a ticking time bomb ready to explode.

Inspire. Move. Awaken.

I'm stuck in a rut.  Day in and day out, everything is just an identical, slow motion blur of all the other yesterdays. 

I need something that will inspire, motivate and awaken me.  I need my creative juices to start flowing again.  I haven't written anything in a long while and it's not for lack of trying.  I have unfinished stories waiting with baited breaths...begging for their happily ever afters.

It pains me that I can't seem to get motivated enough to climb out of my rut and break free of this overwhelmingly addictive monotony.

I need to write.  I need to sing.  I need to dance.  I need to live.

Now.

Here.. have a Squid.

When all else fails, a little bit of cute goes a long, long way....

I promise to post more soon. 

Sunday Sillies

When all else fails, get your plush babies, your silver Christmas crown and your camera phone and go buck wild loony.

38 is the new 12.

Love, your Number One fans. ♥

My love,

The boys and I wanted you to know that we love you and that you're aces in our book.

Thank you for keeping our little "family" together and for always fighting to keep it that way.  There is not a day that goes by we don't count ourselves lucky that we have you in our lives.

Sure, we're quite a handful, the boys and I, and we know we test your patience most days but do know that we will go to the ends of the earth for you just to make you smile.

Some people may think we're a bit cuckoo for thinking what we have is a real family but so what?  Who says we can't be real?  We have love, we have fun and most of all, we have each other and that's what a family is all about.

We love you baby... the boys and I.  However, and I think the boys will agree, I love you the most.  I can't begin to list down just how much I do.

My heart and my mind is full of you.  When I  come across something funny or interesting, you are the first person I want to share it with.  When I am sad, it's your arms that I want around me.  When I'm happy or proud of something I've done, I want you to be proud of me too because you matter my love.

These days, despite the overwhelming number of reasons to stay sad and hopeless, I am with hope and my heart is full of smiles.... because of you and the boys.  We are yours, always and only.

Always and only...

He is mine.

It shouldn't be this hard, should it?

People often say that love is easy when it's real and that when it's true love, it is nothing short of perfect.  There's no drama, no late nights spent worrying about the small stuff.  Just pure, unadulterated bliss.

Maybe it's the cynic in me but if that's the case, then true love doesn't exist.  That or it exists but wouldn't know how to find me if there was a big, pulsating red arrow pointing at me.

I've come to realize that all my (failed) relationships only had one thing in common.  Me.  Maybe there's something in me that turns decent, honest men into cheating, manipulative sons of bitches.

I am a mess of conflicting emotions.

This is me flailing my arms.

I'm alive.  I am well.  I am loved.  Just extremely preoccupied with other stuff.... which is a euphemism for extreme laziness. Bite me.

Also... I'm mouse hunting like crazy... so shhhhh be vewwy vewwy quiet.

38.

Well... 47 minutes into my 38th birthday.  So far, so good.  Let's keep it that way, shall we?

Well isn't that just fine and dandy?

"It has nothing to do with you."

I've got to get that tattooed on my forehead soon.

Seriously, who comes up with this shit?

Last night, I finally went out with friends to dinner and a movie.  With this particular group, oftentimes, the movie isn't as important as the time we spend together seeing as we each have families, work or in short, lives to live.

So we saw Eclipse.  It's bad enough that I have to sit through Kristen Stewart's awkward "acting", I had to suffer in relative silence as the dialogue got cheesier and more idiotic with each passing minute.  Thank goodness I was with friends who made the whole 2 hours and 5 minutes bearable and funny.

I'm not going to pretend I didn't read the Twilight series.  I did.  And the romantic fool in me couldn't help but sigh in reverent longing.  

BUT.

It's bad enough that the book has robbed all vampires and werewolves of their "street cred", did they really have to give the characters such craptastic dialogue?

"Besides, we both know I'm hotter than you..."  ::gag::

And man... that's one ugly wolf pack. Ugh.

The one good thing about the movie?  Dakota Fanning.

Take a bow.

::shake shake shake::

::wiggle jiggle bop bop::

::tap tap kick kick split::

::twirl whirl pirouette jazz hands::

Now, on to the day.

All I am saying... is give peace a chance.

If and when I find the imbecile who started the slow bastardizing of the culturally relevant peace sign into today's slutty skanks' standard hand sign in pictures, I will take said imbecile and shove his fingers so far up his ass, he won't be able to do the peace sign without doing permanent damage to his cerebral cortex.

It was cute for the first two minutes.  After that, unless done specifically to make fun of all the gargantuan fucktards who insist on flashing the peace sign for their own photographic purposes, it's just sad.

People, it's not cute, it's not hip and for fuck's sake, it makes you look retarded.  

While I'm on the subject of fucktardom, the duck face and the whatever the hell thing you do where you pucker up your lips instead of just smiling like a normal, intelligent person ALSO makes you look like someone shoved a ten foot pole up your ass and into your brain.

Stop it.  For humanity's sake.  STOP IT.

A squiggly, snuggly Squid and his 'stache.

Squidly's here.  Perfect timing too.  I get to take care of him AND introduce him to my newest baby, Arnold.  By the way, everyone's been calling him Arnie and he's not complaining so I guess I better get with the program too....

Squidly has the measles so he's a bit cranky.  Which is fine as it gives me an excuse to carry him all the time.  I just love how his little head fits perfectly on my shoulder... and how his tiny little arms sort of try and reach around my neck.  Mmmm snuggly Squid.

Things are still dicey between me and the boyfriend.  I'm crazy about him sure, but sometimes... sigh.  It would really help it if he remembers stuff I've told him before so he won't keep apologizing when things go wrong.... saying sorry only goes so far.  And sooner or later, it's not going to be believable anymore... you know?

Anyway, I finally got the Keeper's Candle so I'm hanging out at the Forbidden Grove for a bit... just to see if I can catch me some cool mice... then I'll probably go back to the Catacombs and farm for more gold.

Take your Rorschach and shove it.

Yes, my mother had me tested and no, sadly, I am not crazy. 

Truth be told, I wish I was.  Crazy is definitely more interesting and fraught with excitement than ordinary.  However, I'm not too fond of the crazies' haute couture.  I don't look good in white. Never have, never will.  

Digression:  I remember when I was in grade school and dutifully enrolled by my parents in a private, unwavering Catholic school... every first Friday of the month (or was it last? Egads, I've forgotten!) we were required to wear this godforsaken white gala uniform with long sleeves, and buttons designed to close off every imaginable breathing orifice.  Suffice it to say, I hated Fridays as much as I hated Mondays.

Unflattering outfit aside, I'd still like to be crazy than ordinary in any given day.  It's empowering when people don't know what to expect from you.  They look at you with curious interest and hopeful bewilderment.  Isn't that better than have them look at you as if they're saying, "Ho-hum.  Next!"

Admittedly, I think my friends already think I'm crazy.  Huh... maybe that's why I haven't been seeing so much of them lately.  Bah, who needs friends when you have two strong-willed plush toys who just can't get along?  Have you ever tried getting in the middle of two fighting plushies?  One of which is a ninja!  True, his shurikens are made out of felt but still.

I digressed again, didn't I?  Dagnabit!  I hate it when that happens.

Hmmmm... butterflies.

Hey Arnold!

Meet Arnold... my newest baby.  Don't ask me where the name came from... I'm just in charge of loving them... the boyfriend is in charge of naming them.  

Percy, my other baby, isn't too happy with this newest addition to the growing brood of Shawnimal plushies but sooner or later he'll get over himself and start loving Arnold too.

*bliss*

New Post. Click.

I feel like I won the lottery or something. I've found my voice again and I am THU-RILLED! What to say first? Who shall I skewer with my wit sans disclaimer? I want to say everything that has been bubbling just beneath the surface of my soul.

Ok, ok... I need to pace myself and do this a post at a time. I can't be tripping all over myself and just willy nilly say everything all at once.

First off, I just want to say... my typing skills have gone down the drain. Ugh. I keep having to hit backspace because I mistyped something. C'est la vie. I'll get it together soon enough I suppose.

Man, I need a PAUSE button for my brain.

So, in short order. Percy has a mini-blog within my blog... which right now is in its rough stages unfortunately. Hopefully the boyfriend can help me fix it because again, I am CSS-retarded. Thank Tallulah for point and click formatting! Speaking of the boyfriend... today is his birthday so I'mma be in my best behavior. Gotta give him lots of love, ya know?

One sec while I flip through my mental notebook... I'm looking for stuff I can talk about in short bursts of meaningful words. Bah. Why must I write the way I speak? Oh well. Did I say that yet? No? Good. Moving on.

Oh yeah... almost forgot... in a few weeks it's going to be my birthday too and the boyfriend, being the loving, most generous, amazing guy that he is, got me a slew of Shawnimals stuff. Oh hush auto-correct... Shawnimals is a legitimate word goshdarnit!

I hate auto-correct.

There ought to be some sort of drug I can take or program I can enroll in that would help me curb my annoying habit of digressing so much.

On to the Laboratory! Gotta catch me a few more Bionic Mice. Need those rb pots so bad.

*tap* *tap* Is this thing on?

To say I've been negligent is an understatement. My lack of posts have nothing to do with me being busy or preoccupied with more important stuff... the only reason I've not posted in AGES is pure and simple laziness.

I just couldn't be arsed.

That and I somehow lost my voice. Again. I feel like I have nothing more left to say. But that's not true. I have so much more I want to write about... so much more that I want to rant and rave about and I just need to find the drive and inspiration to get off of my ass and just do it.

Maybe this is it though. Maybe this post is the start of another round of ranting and raving and inspired lunacy. I hope so. I missed this. I really did.

Oh and new design! Thank you Blogger Gods for listening to my silent prayers. I'm psyched!

Look out world... here I come! (Again...)

Just so you know...

Me and my boy. Holy crappola I'm old.

An open letter.

Dear 2010,

What the frak did you do to me? These days, I can't be arsed to do anything... at all. I can't write. I'm too lazy/tired/uninspired to create something... anything.

Damnit 2010, I demand that you give me back my motivation, right now!

Don't make me go postal on your ass.

Not your biggest fan,

Me

Mmmmbrains. Grawr.

Want to know what I've been up to?





Apparently, nothing much.

Can't be arsed.

Life is too complicated to write about so here's a picture of Squid...

Heart, Sleeves, Rip.

How is it that right after I click on "New Post" I immediately forget things that I want to write about? Or, as soon as I decide to write about what's been weighing heavily on my mind, my train of thought goes so far out of track, you can suddenly find it orbiting the earth. So aggravating. Growl.

Right now I'm staring at the screen, desperately racking my brain so that the words would somehow realign themselves to form coherent sentences. Such luck no. (Oooh look, I made a funny...)

Ok, I give up. Apparently, my brain is on hiatus. Maybe later. Or maybe I just need to write everything down on paper first. Sigh.

All that's for certain right now is that I've fallen and I can't get up. Help.

Well that was quick.

2010 - 1, CJ - 0

Light the corners of my mind.

2009... saying goodbye to you will be bittersweet. You will not be missed but you will be remembered.

The past year had its share of ups and downs... although to be honest, despite my really depressing posts, 2009 had more ups than downs. I just mostly write about the ups on my paper journal and on my private blog over at Livejournal...

Percy came into my life and hasn't stopped making me smile since. And then as if there wasn't enough cuteness in my life, Sidney was born.

I've had my share of really crippling downs but I have gotten through them somehow.

2010, I'm ready for you. Bring it on.