"Hello Gramma, this is Mermaid," said my darlin little grommie on the telephone this morning.
"I am on baycaychon and I am going to the beach and to Dilseneyland."
"My Show and Tell (hotel) has beds and a hot tub and an elevator. I don't have to make my bed because we have a servant who will come do it."
"I love you. Bye"
...and that's how we roll 'round here!
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Friday, November 26, 2010
We're Goin' to DISNEYLAND !
The Holy Man saved up all of his change over this last year and has used it to take us to Disneyland!
Lady L and Dream Boy remained at home with their super awesome Aunties, while Mermaid, Fairy Princess and I have joined tHM and his two boys from a previous marriage on a delightful week-long vaycay in Sunny California!
We arrived today after a lonnnnnnnnnnnnng drive. Having come from a 15 degree Thanksgiving Day, we've found the 70 degree weather absolutely sublime. We swam. Outside.
YES!
Our hotel is fantastic! We're at a Radisson. We have a microwave, fridge, coffee maker, BATHTUB, dining room -complete with table- and "sleep number" beds. A heated pool, glass-walled elevators, 2 flat screen tvs, plantation shutters on the french doors. Lots and lots of room for the 6 of us and all of our stuff ! This is a far cry from the ultra-econo accommodations *I* usually secure for our trips!
Tomorrow we hit the beach, then Sunday, Monday and Tuesday will be spent at the Happiest Place on Earth.
Although I find Mickey Mouse to be one of the most annoying characters in existence (second only to The Holy Man), and I'm not one for the plethora of hype and retail I expect to find just inches inside of Disneyland's gates, I'm tremendously excited for my girls to visit the princesses and ride the rides to their hearts' content!
Woo Hoo!
Lady L and Dream Boy remained at home with their super awesome Aunties, while Mermaid, Fairy Princess and I have joined tHM and his two boys from a previous marriage on a delightful week-long vaycay in Sunny California!
We arrived today after a lonnnnnnnnnnnnng drive. Having come from a 15 degree Thanksgiving Day, we've found the 70 degree weather absolutely sublime. We swam. Outside.
YES!
Our hotel is fantastic! We're at a Radisson. We have a microwave, fridge, coffee maker, BATHTUB, dining room -complete with table- and "sleep number" beds. A heated pool, glass-walled elevators, 2 flat screen tvs, plantation shutters on the french doors. Lots and lots of room for the 6 of us and all of our stuff ! This is a far cry from the ultra-econo accommodations *I* usually secure for our trips!
Tomorrow we hit the beach, then Sunday, Monday and Tuesday will be spent at the Happiest Place on Earth.
Although I find Mickey Mouse to be one of the most annoying characters in existence (second only to The Holy Man), and I'm not one for the plethora of hype and retail I expect to find just inches inside of Disneyland's gates, I'm tremendously excited for my girls to visit the princesses and ride the rides to their hearts' content!
Woo Hoo!
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Holy Wars
Woke up to fighting.
Every morning at the crack of dawn, my Grommies sneak quietly into my bedroom, slide into bed with me, then start playing. The jump, they cavort, they "steamroll" over me -- all while giggling and chattering "Mama wake up," "Can I open your blinds?" "Mama, do I ROCK?" (Fairy Princess), "Do I have school today?" (Mermaid), "Mama! Get out of bed!", etc etc.
This morning, however, although there was a lot of noise, I experienced a surprising lack of physical assault on my person. Instead, all of the kids were on the edge of my bed yelling at each other. Groggily and somewhat reluctantly, I slid open my eyes and attuned my ears to ascertain just what was going on before I jumped in to fix/explain/discipline/whatever.
"NO LEPRECHAUN - it's NOT DADDY!" growled my Fairy Princess
"Yes, it's Daddy!" retorted Lady Leprechaun in a fierce 2 year old scolding, "See Dream Boy, it's Daddy," she furthered, "Say Hello to Daddy -- 'Hello Daddy!' "
"LEEEEPRECHAUNNNNNN," cursed The Mermaid with full physical and emotional chagrin, "That is NOT Daddy!"
"Liar, Liar pants on fire," cursed Lady L and she spit her tongue out at her sisters
. . . then there was a bit of poking, pinching, licking (because biting is strictly taboo 'round here), growling and shrieking while they attempted to determine, physically, who was "right".
Amused, I just lay very still and observed through half closed, sleepy eyes.
Finally, as the eldest and wisest of the children, The Mermaid came up with her leakproof argument:
"Leprechaun," she began with a genuine attempt to curb her frustration, "That is NOT Daddy. It is Jesus. Jesus who lives in Heaven, in the Sky and in our Hearts and in Everyone's Hearts. It's not Daddy. Daddy lives with Gramma."
Case closed.
Yes, my kids' Daddy (The Holy Man) and Jesus Christ share more than just an ambition to wander the Earth teaching Love. They look uncannily alike.
As it was an innocent mistake, I'm pretty sure that both Jesus and tHM will forgive Lady Leprechaun.
Phew.
Every morning at the crack of dawn, my Grommies sneak quietly into my bedroom, slide into bed with me, then start playing. The jump, they cavort, they "steamroll" over me -- all while giggling and chattering "Mama wake up," "Can I open your blinds?" "Mama, do I ROCK?" (Fairy Princess), "Do I have school today?" (Mermaid), "Mama! Get out of bed!", etc etc.
This morning, however, although there was a lot of noise, I experienced a surprising lack of physical assault on my person. Instead, all of the kids were on the edge of my bed yelling at each other. Groggily and somewhat reluctantly, I slid open my eyes and attuned my ears to ascertain just what was going on before I jumped in to fix/explain/discipline/whatever.
"NO LEPRECHAUN - it's NOT DADDY!" growled my Fairy Princess
"Yes, it's Daddy!" retorted Lady Leprechaun in a fierce 2 year old scolding, "See Dream Boy, it's Daddy," she furthered, "Say Hello to Daddy -- 'Hello Daddy!' "
"LEEEEPRECHAUNNNNNN," cursed The Mermaid with full physical and emotional chagrin, "That is NOT Daddy!"
"Liar, Liar pants on fire," cursed Lady L and she spit her tongue out at her sisters
. . . then there was a bit of poking, pinching, licking (because biting is strictly taboo 'round here), growling and shrieking while they attempted to determine, physically, who was "right".
Amused, I just lay very still and observed through half closed, sleepy eyes.
Finally, as the eldest and wisest of the children, The Mermaid came up with her leakproof argument:
"Leprechaun," she began with a genuine attempt to curb her frustration, "That is NOT Daddy. It is Jesus. Jesus who lives in Heaven, in the Sky and in our Hearts and in Everyone's Hearts. It's not Daddy. Daddy lives with Gramma."
Case closed.
Yes, my kids' Daddy (The Holy Man) and Jesus Christ share more than just an ambition to wander the Earth teaching Love. They look uncannily alike.
As it was an innocent mistake, I'm pretty sure that both Jesus and tHM will forgive Lady Leprechaun.
Phew.
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Eat Your dRM Food!
Sparkly, my sister, disagrees with me. She feels like the kitchen should be a sort of "open buffet" for children, and that no lessons of any sort should ever be taught using / about food -- that Grommets should be able to choose whatever they eat whenever they want it. Ok, cool -- but, unlike Sparkly, I'm not willing to make 5 separate breakfasts, 5 separate lunches and 5 separate dinners to accommodate my kids' daily fluctuating preferences. Nor am I willing to let them subsist on a diet of chicken nuggets, top Ramen noodles, cupcakes and bagels (unfortunate favorite choices of so many kids).
So I've got this thing with kids saying "I don't like it" the second I place a plate of food in front of them. Yes, people - even children - are allowed to have preferences with food, but few things irk me more than when I lay out a meal and someone says "ewwwww I don't like mushrooms/tomatoes/zucchini/etc" and consequently refuses to eat ANYTHING on the table. Imagine we were starving and ALL we had left were garbanzo beans and radishes . . . I think it's important for children to develop a WIDE palate of "acceptable/delicious" foods. Plus, it's so incredibly much more holistically nutritious!
It goes like this for me: Fruits and veggies are the most preferred fuel for the Human Body, and for the most part, they're all delicious. Granted, some may take a few times to get used to (okra), or taste best when cooked into a dish of some sort (um, eggplant), but none of them are truly gross. (At least in the general realm of fruits and vegetables ... there may be some obscure plant-born item out there that is totally disgusting, but it's not something that makes it into my kitchen). So -- GIVE 'EM A TRY! I'm a damn good cook - don't you DARE eschew my amazing, nutrition-packed dinner before you even taste one bite!
ANYWAY - Xrad's kids will eat anything. They have the most weird, eclectic, random diet I have ever seen. Basically, if it's edible, they're good to eat it for breakfast, lunch, dinner, or snacks ... whatever and whenever. So, imagine my surprise when Oddie blared out one day that she wouldn't eat my legendary beef stew because it had chunks of zucchini in it -- and "she hates zucchini".
I was floored, and, well, since that's a trigger for me, I was also pretty bugged.
Then I had a brilliant idea: I took Oddie into the kitchen and invited her to eat a teaspoon of baking soda. She balked. I said, "Really, try it! It tastes weird, but it won't hurt you". Since I'm a pretty awesome Auntie, Oddie went ahead and ate the spoonful of baking soda. Of course her lips puckered a bit and her jaw worked for a minute, but I quickly gave her a big glass of water to chase it with.
"How'd ya like that?" I asked.
"Pretty yucky," answered Oddie.
"Oh, really?" I asked, "But I thought you loved cookies, cakes, bread, brownies and ALL of that stuff"
"Uh, yeah," she replied with that "duh" tone and an eye roll
"Oh - well this stuff is in all of those. You never even tasted it there, did you? Now go eat my delicious Beef Stew."
...and she did.
...and she loved every bite.
So there!
So I've got this thing with kids saying "I don't like it" the second I place a plate of food in front of them. Yes, people - even children - are allowed to have preferences with food, but few things irk me more than when I lay out a meal and someone says "ewwwww I don't like mushrooms/tomatoes/zucchini/etc" and consequently refuses to eat ANYTHING on the table. Imagine we were starving and ALL we had left were garbanzo beans and radishes . . . I think it's important for children to develop a WIDE palate of "acceptable/delicious" foods. Plus, it's so incredibly much more holistically nutritious!
It goes like this for me: Fruits and veggies are the most preferred fuel for the Human Body, and for the most part, they're all delicious. Granted, some may take a few times to get used to (okra), or taste best when cooked into a dish of some sort (um, eggplant), but none of them are truly gross. (At least in the general realm of fruits and vegetables ... there may be some obscure plant-born item out there that is totally disgusting, but it's not something that makes it into my kitchen). So -- GIVE 'EM A TRY! I'm a damn good cook - don't you DARE eschew my amazing, nutrition-packed dinner before you even taste one bite!
ANYWAY - Xrad's kids will eat anything. They have the most weird, eclectic, random diet I have ever seen. Basically, if it's edible, they're good to eat it for breakfast, lunch, dinner, or snacks ... whatever and whenever. So, imagine my surprise when Oddie blared out one day that she wouldn't eat my legendary beef stew because it had chunks of zucchini in it -- and "she hates zucchini".
I was floored, and, well, since that's a trigger for me, I was also pretty bugged.
Then I had a brilliant idea: I took Oddie into the kitchen and invited her to eat a teaspoon of baking soda. She balked. I said, "Really, try it! It tastes weird, but it won't hurt you". Since I'm a pretty awesome Auntie, Oddie went ahead and ate the spoonful of baking soda. Of course her lips puckered a bit and her jaw worked for a minute, but I quickly gave her a big glass of water to chase it with.
"How'd ya like that?" I asked.
"Pretty yucky," answered Oddie.
"Oh, really?" I asked, "But I thought you loved cookies, cakes, bread, brownies and ALL of that stuff"
"Uh, yeah," she replied with that "duh" tone and an eye roll
"Oh - well this stuff is in all of those. You never even tasted it there, did you? Now go eat my delicious Beef Stew."
...and she did.
...and she loved every bite.
So there!
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Behind the Scenes
Ya know one of the best parts about being a Mama?
The privilege of seeing all of the secret little personal things my kids do. You know, those darling little behaviors, habits etc that they're too shy to do in front of other people --
My Mermaid was given an old cell phone the other day by a friend of mine. The SIM card was left intact and the phone is loaded up with music. Mermaid has carried it around non stop for 2 days playing music... and dancing. She's done the wave, the worm, the robot, a lot of "booty shaking", some slow dancing with her Fairy Princess sister, and all sorts of other impromptu performances. All with deep feeling, intense facial expressions, and full-body participation. In fact, they're doing a 5 year old modification of a dramatic Tango right now. Way cool! Of course, no one but Mama can see this stuff ... when I ask them to perform for others, they either act very shy and refuse, or they get really silly and just show off.
Lady Leprechaun has decided which things are her "favorite thing". I'll give her an apple and she'll look up at me, set the apple down and vehemently declare with a ferocious grin "This is my FAVORITE APPLE!" - while giving me a double-thumbs up and pumping her arms out dramatically in cadence to the words. Then I'll give her a glass of water and she'll announce, "Mom, this is my FAVORITE WATER!" and pump that two thumbs up at me again. She informs me about her favorite foods, clothes, hair styles, toothpaste, songs, movies, blankies . . . well, everything. I have no idea where she learned it, but it's about the cutest thing I've ever seen - and when I "bait" her to do it in front of others, she gets all coy and reserved and says nothing. Her thumbs automatically stick up, though, and I get a real kick out of watching her notice that and try to hide them. haha!
Lucky me!
Oh, on a side note - I facilitated progression to Nirvana for two more mice yesterday! YES !
The privilege of seeing all of the secret little personal things my kids do. You know, those darling little behaviors, habits etc that they're too shy to do in front of other people --
My Mermaid was given an old cell phone the other day by a friend of mine. The SIM card was left intact and the phone is loaded up with music. Mermaid has carried it around non stop for 2 days playing music... and dancing. She's done the wave, the worm, the robot, a lot of "booty shaking", some slow dancing with her Fairy Princess sister, and all sorts of other impromptu performances. All with deep feeling, intense facial expressions, and full-body participation. In fact, they're doing a 5 year old modification of a dramatic Tango right now. Way cool! Of course, no one but Mama can see this stuff ... when I ask them to perform for others, they either act very shy and refuse, or they get really silly and just show off.
Lady Leprechaun has decided which things are her "favorite thing". I'll give her an apple and she'll look up at me, set the apple down and vehemently declare with a ferocious grin "This is my FAVORITE APPLE!" - while giving me a double-thumbs up and pumping her arms out dramatically in cadence to the words. Then I'll give her a glass of water and she'll announce, "Mom, this is my FAVORITE WATER!" and pump that two thumbs up at me again. She informs me about her favorite foods, clothes, hair styles, toothpaste, songs, movies, blankies . . . well, everything. I have no idea where she learned it, but it's about the cutest thing I've ever seen - and when I "bait" her to do it in front of others, she gets all coy and reserved and says nothing. Her thumbs automatically stick up, though, and I get a real kick out of watching her notice that and try to hide them. haha!
Lucky me!
Oh, on a side note - I facilitated progression to Nirvana for two more mice yesterday! YES !
Friday, November 12, 2010
Whasbeenup
I've been the subject of recent admonitions in regards to my lack of consistent posts. (Thanks JRock - you 'da Man).
Let me 'splain a little 'bout what I's been doing: I like living. I like doing, going, laughing, loving and breathing. I really struggle with doing things that I don't like (ha ha - see Pu's recent post where she revealed my self-diagnosis of "Clinically Unemployable") which, as a general rule, includes anything ROUTINE. Even less do I enjoy sitting at a computer. So ... rather than blogging some stupid comment on whether or not I filled my gas tank 1/2 way full or 3/4 full, I've been preparing my little sanctuary (aka my home) for winter.
The Great Annual Mouse Event is underway 'round these parts. I live in a very nice little cottage-y house on 1/3 acre of land. I have a spanning yard and a 600 sq ft garden. The house is old but freshly remodeled - yet it still contains lots of random little holes. Holes that cute little Mice have mapped out on those ancient stone tablets they have - you know, the ones that God gave them on the mountain when the bush burned down ... the ones that instruct the entire species of where to congregate when the weather turns cold.
Last year, I only had to kill *eight* of them (in my 1000 sq ft house) to send the clear message that Auschwitz don't have nuttin on me. I actually spent most of last fall and winter in terrible angst because I felt like a bad person if I actually had to KILL something to be rid of it. I tried catch-and-release traps, peppermint (leaves scattered, strategically placed live plants, and essential oil diffused in 72 hour shifts), incense-bombing (that's where I burn 60-80 sticks of incense all at once in a glorious Hindu-Inspired Haze in hopes of choking those miceys out ... my personal "non chemical" innovation as a substitute for a toxic bug or mouse bomb), and relentless, furious cleaning (in the drawers, in the closets, sterilizing the cupboards, purging the vents, etc etc). I created several variations of ingenious "swim traps" - where I filled a bucket with a bit of water and created a "diving board fulcrum" of sorts with delicious peanut butter and cheerios on the end overhanging the water so I could humanely catch them as they fell in for a little swim after dashing out onto the "plank" and tipping into the wild blue yonder.
None of it worked. Well, I did catch 2 mice in one of the catch and release traps, but I set them free 0.9 miles from my home, and I think they followed their bread crumb trail back to one of the aforementioned holes. Experts do say, you know, to release them *at least* 1 mile from your home ....
ANYWAY - after months of discovering MORE little piles of mouse poo, and being thoroughly disgusted, I finally just put out the snap traps and killed the suckers off.
THIS year, I started off with glue traps - thinking that if I checked them regularly, when a poor little mousey got stuck on one, I could release it a full mile away from my home before it experienced too much trauma. (Ya know - that whole Karma thing ...) Well, they didn't work. You see, I keep my house cool . . . cool enough that the glue traps were too cold to be sticky enough to actually trap the mice. After 2 days, I had several traps where the little bait pile of tasty cheerios had been replaced by tiny footprints, random tufts of fur and little piles of black-rice poo.
So -- out came the poison pellets for the outside part of my house, and the snap traps for the inside. I've blessed 6 already with an expedited trip to Heaven, and have sighted 3 or 4 more. Onward I go.
In other news, I am now officially a lumberjack. With the assistance of Xrad's husband (aka The Cowboy) and Son (aka Missionary Man), I have harvested, chopped and split the equivalent of 3 full trailers of wood for my wintertime fireplace. Wintertime gas bills run upwards of $300/month in this cozy little cottage - and that's just WAY TOO HARD to manage on my $560/month income. This year, I'm aiming to keep 'em under $30. Big ambition, I know, but I've got the wood ready, have re-routed my dryer to vent inside, have purchased thick fuzzy jammas for the Grommets, and have installed "I'm sleeping in a fluff of pure Nirvana" duvets on all of the beds.
Oh, yes. I have enrolled for school. I'll begin in January with a full-time course load to finally complete a degree. I began college immediately after graduating High School. (er - 20 years ago ...) I have attended full time for many many semesters since, but haven't ever pieced it all together into a nice piece of paper I can hang on my wall. This time will be different. That's my story and I'm sticking to it. I've decided to wrap my myriad credits (like all 100 of them) into a BS in Philosophy.
"I went to see the doctor of Philosophy. With his poster of Rasputin and his beard down to his knees. He never did marry, or see a big great movie. He graded my performance, he said he could see through me. I spent 4 years prostrate to the higher mind - got my paper and I was free......." (duh, Indigo Girls).
...and I have a drawing class in my upcoming semester. I have a hard time drawing a circle, and well, quite frankly, I don't care. It's the only class I'm wary of . . . that leads me to believe that it may hide/hold/reveal some great truth to me about myself. Maybe I just hate drawing. Guess we'll see . . . . (oh, lookie ! I'm a philosopher already !!!)
Tomorrow, I get to go spend 4 hours with a Psychiatrist. I'm pretty excited! I've never known one / seen one / talked to one before. One of the grants I'm applying for requires that I have a mental or emotional disability to qualify, so I'ma meeting this guy to see if he thinks I do! Crazy, huh! (no pun intended). Yeah, I'm sure there's a strong vein of ADD coursing through my blood, and I spent several years experiencing panic attacks whenever I thought about driving a car (of course, I didn't even consider actually driving one during that time), and I think I'm pretty solidly "clinically unemployable" (not because I suck - because I'm smarter, faster and more creative than anyone I've ever worked for, and either work myself out of a job quickly by organizing/systemizing/structuring what I do such that any $5.00/hr monkey can do it, or I just have to quit from sheer boredom). Oh, and Xrad's psychology professor suggested to me that I have a personality disorder with Narcissistic tendencies. -yeah, whatever. I do not think I am better than everyone.
I know it.
Ouch!
Got some good stuff coming: Grade School Fundraisers, "The Corporation", Committees, Songs I've Made Up for 'da Grommies, Living a Grain Free life - Can it be done by dRM and clan?, etc... Stay posted. My musings may be far-between, but they're just as often as I like em!
Let me 'splain a little 'bout what I's been doing: I like living. I like doing, going, laughing, loving and breathing. I really struggle with doing things that I don't like (ha ha - see Pu's recent post where she revealed my self-diagnosis of "Clinically Unemployable") which, as a general rule, includes anything ROUTINE. Even less do I enjoy sitting at a computer. So ... rather than blogging some stupid comment on whether or not I filled my gas tank 1/2 way full or 3/4 full, I've been preparing my little sanctuary (aka my home) for winter.
The Great Annual Mouse Event is underway 'round these parts. I live in a very nice little cottage-y house on 1/3 acre of land. I have a spanning yard and a 600 sq ft garden. The house is old but freshly remodeled - yet it still contains lots of random little holes. Holes that cute little Mice have mapped out on those ancient stone tablets they have - you know, the ones that God gave them on the mountain when the bush burned down ... the ones that instruct the entire species of where to congregate when the weather turns cold.
Last year, I only had to kill *eight* of them (in my 1000 sq ft house) to send the clear message that Auschwitz don't have nuttin on me. I actually spent most of last fall and winter in terrible angst because I felt like a bad person if I actually had to KILL something to be rid of it. I tried catch-and-release traps, peppermint (leaves scattered, strategically placed live plants, and essential oil diffused in 72 hour shifts), incense-bombing (that's where I burn 60-80 sticks of incense all at once in a glorious Hindu-Inspired Haze in hopes of choking those miceys out ... my personal "non chemical" innovation as a substitute for a toxic bug or mouse bomb), and relentless, furious cleaning (in the drawers, in the closets, sterilizing the cupboards, purging the vents, etc etc). I created several variations of ingenious "swim traps" - where I filled a bucket with a bit of water and created a "diving board fulcrum" of sorts with delicious peanut butter and cheerios on the end overhanging the water so I could humanely catch them as they fell in for a little swim after dashing out onto the "plank" and tipping into the wild blue yonder.
None of it worked. Well, I did catch 2 mice in one of the catch and release traps, but I set them free 0.9 miles from my home, and I think they followed their bread crumb trail back to one of the aforementioned holes. Experts do say, you know, to release them *at least* 1 mile from your home ....
ANYWAY - after months of discovering MORE little piles of mouse poo, and being thoroughly disgusted, I finally just put out the snap traps and killed the suckers off.
THIS year, I started off with glue traps - thinking that if I checked them regularly, when a poor little mousey got stuck on one, I could release it a full mile away from my home before it experienced too much trauma. (Ya know - that whole Karma thing ...) Well, they didn't work. You see, I keep my house cool . . . cool enough that the glue traps were too cold to be sticky enough to actually trap the mice. After 2 days, I had several traps where the little bait pile of tasty cheerios had been replaced by tiny footprints, random tufts of fur and little piles of black-rice poo.
So -- out came the poison pellets for the outside part of my house, and the snap traps for the inside. I've blessed 6 already with an expedited trip to Heaven, and have sighted 3 or 4 more. Onward I go.
In other news, I am now officially a lumberjack. With the assistance of Xrad's husband (aka The Cowboy) and Son (aka Missionary Man), I have harvested, chopped and split the equivalent of 3 full trailers of wood for my wintertime fireplace. Wintertime gas bills run upwards of $300/month in this cozy little cottage - and that's just WAY TOO HARD to manage on my $560/month income. This year, I'm aiming to keep 'em under $30. Big ambition, I know, but I've got the wood ready, have re-routed my dryer to vent inside, have purchased thick fuzzy jammas for the Grommets, and have installed "I'm sleeping in a fluff of pure Nirvana" duvets on all of the beds.
Oh, yes. I have enrolled for school. I'll begin in January with a full-time course load to finally complete a degree. I began college immediately after graduating High School. (er - 20 years ago ...) I have attended full time for many many semesters since, but haven't ever pieced it all together into a nice piece of paper I can hang on my wall. This time will be different. That's my story and I'm sticking to it. I've decided to wrap my myriad credits (like all 100 of them) into a BS in Philosophy.
"I went to see the doctor of Philosophy. With his poster of Rasputin and his beard down to his knees. He never did marry, or see a big great movie. He graded my performance, he said he could see through me. I spent 4 years prostrate to the higher mind - got my paper and I was free......." (duh, Indigo Girls).
...and I have a drawing class in my upcoming semester. I have a hard time drawing a circle, and well, quite frankly, I don't care. It's the only class I'm wary of . . . that leads me to believe that it may hide/hold/reveal some great truth to me about myself. Maybe I just hate drawing. Guess we'll see . . . . (oh, lookie ! I'm a philosopher already !!!)
Tomorrow, I get to go spend 4 hours with a Psychiatrist. I'm pretty excited! I've never known one / seen one / talked to one before. One of the grants I'm applying for requires that I have a mental or emotional disability to qualify, so I'ma meeting this guy to see if he thinks I do! Crazy, huh! (no pun intended). Yeah, I'm sure there's a strong vein of ADD coursing through my blood, and I spent several years experiencing panic attacks whenever I thought about driving a car (of course, I didn't even consider actually driving one during that time), and I think I'm pretty solidly "clinically unemployable" (not because I suck - because I'm smarter, faster and more creative than anyone I've ever worked for, and either work myself out of a job quickly by organizing/systemizing/structuring what I do such that any $5.00/hr monkey can do it, or I just have to quit from sheer boredom). Oh, and Xrad's psychology professor suggested to me that I have a personality disorder with Narcissistic tendencies. -yeah, whatever. I do not think I am better than everyone.
I know it.
Ouch!
Got some good stuff coming: Grade School Fundraisers, "The Corporation", Committees, Songs I've Made Up for 'da Grommies, Living a Grain Free life - Can it be done by dRM and clan?, etc... Stay posted. My musings may be far-between, but they're just as often as I like em!
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