Palm trees

Everywhere I go now, all I sees is the palm trees. Really. I'm getting sick of them.

It's kind of like when my college boyfriend got a new red firebird with a t-top and then everywhere I went, all I noticed was red firebirds. When I broke up with him, then all I saw was even MORE red firebirds and you start to loathe red firebirds, and then you pass up a perfectly nice guy because he drives a red firebird. Know what I mean?

But this current news story is really too funny for me to not share with you.

Walka Walka

Well, I went to the March of Dimes Walk America event today. I handed in money, got a t-shirt, and walked. Not exactly in the order the event organizers had in mind, however.

My life is overscheduled (whose isn't?) so I basically took a walk around the park (it's called the Crossings, it's really very nice) by myself and then handed in my money as soon as the registration tables opened, and then got outta dodge just as the double parking was starting. I got there early enough to get a primo parking space near the entrance to the park so I could just zip on out and head home... to go to church.

I really wanted to stay - the weather is gorgeous today - and sit under a big tree with one of my favorite people and just listen to some tunes. Maybe next year.

Stuff, part 492

On butts:

last night we went to Red Robin with Suzy. She got a drink that tasted like one of those orange sherbet/ vanilla ice cream treats. She added a shot of malibu rum and then she thought it was pretty much perfect as far as I could tell. The glass was funky, a swirly lopsided affair. We laughed because it resembled J-Lo's butt (according to my mother, so does Suzy's butt, but that's another story for another time. ) Pictures on this may, or may not, follow.

But...
My kid is almost failing science. Her average is 76, and passing is 75. One quarter to go. WHY?? Why? I do not neeeeed to have her in summer school. This of course means I get to drill her daily on science vocab now until the end of the school year. Oh, funsie fun fun FUNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN.


And since we're talking about fun...

Father daughter dance time. ( OK, Poly, stop reading. Haven't you been aggravated enough this week?)
Father daughter dance time is also known as "How to annoy Carly as many ways as possible because she is the captain of this sinking ship":

• if you are the person I work with to reserve the public school cafeteria, call me on FRIDAY to tell me you don't have a kitchen worker for me, so I can't use the big walk in cooler. Hmm, oh sorry. thankqueue.
• if you are the custodial employees I am paying to be there, show up late and then ask "oh, did you need me to do something?" when I have a list of at least 6 things I need (like, take half the tables and chairs out of this cafeteria) and then argue with me later about what I have to pay you. Be sure to keep the girl's bathroom locked (the one with 4 stalls) because surely the ONE faculty bathroom is enough for 100 little girls. Eff you. And yes I will make you open it again next year too.
• if you are (at least 15) parents in the school call me well after the deadline to ask if your kid can still come, because you know I'll say yes. Damn you. It's not like I need to have enough party favors, or food, or anything. (someone called me t-o-d-a-y.)
• bring your three year old, because we specifically (on the flyer going home) say that the dance is for kids in kindergarten and up (our school has a pre-k program for 3 & 4 year olds.... they are not invited, thankyou. When you walk in with her I will look you in the eye and say "she's not supposed to be here. but you haven't left me any choice now, have you? whatever" - - - yes, I did. )
• if you are stupid dad, put your daughter's dress on backwards because she is in kindergarten and doesn't know the button doesn't go in the front. You moron. But you made me laugh so I like you.
• the guy who danced to Footloose also made me laugh, so he gets honorable mention. Not annoying.
• if you are in first grade be sure to run in the hall as much as possible so I have to yell at you five times. Back to annoying-ville!!!
• if you are the DJ I hired, be sure to send someone who works for you, who will bring CD's ( noooooo one has cd's anymore, they have a computer with stuff loaded) and just bring 80's oldies, really, not current Top 40 stuff. The 6th graders won't mind. I'm sure.
• Hey Mr. DJ, also be sure to ask if we can move your table to a completely different place right after we duct tape down a couple of extension cords.
• Dads, be sure to have a few drinks at home and then drive to the event. (There were at least 3 who did this, and if anyone would know, it's the photographer who is up close to you while she poses your daughter next to you) The photographer, who has been my friend since 7th grade, will point you out to me so that I know forever you are a schmuck. I hate you.

You never really know what you'll get when you come by my blog, huh?

Gossip is bad, unless you tell me

I have issues with a conversation that took place at my daughter's school the other day. The teachers rounded up the 5th graders to talk about having boyfriends and girlfriends.

No, not THAT kind of talk. As far as I know. It wasn't an "ed" session. From my interrogation, um, conversation with my daughter, the teachers had a platform that went something like this:

• some of you are starting to "go out" with each other and you are too young to be dating
• if you start to have boyfriends/girlfriends your friends will get mad at you for ignoring them at lunchtime
• the gossip about who is "going out" with whom is getting out of hand
• we do not want you walking behind the blackboard and kissing because we will see your feet (this apparently was a problem last year with the 8th graders, who are now gone)
• we do not want you working with your boyfriend/girlfriend during class when we break up into groups. If you do that you will both get extra homework.
• We expect all of you to tell us if you see someone in a group with the person they're "going out with"

That last one really fries me. Don't gossip, unless you have a chance to screw over one of your classmates (friends, enemies??) by going to the teacher and ratting them out so that you can make them get extra homework.

I would have preferred that they remind the children that when we are in (this catholic, elementary) school we expect you to behave a certain way, and that includes no holding hands or kissing, etc.

Leave it at that.

More than half of the class is not "going out" at all, they were bored to tears during the conversation, and insulted when the teacher tried to end on an "upbeat note" by singing "if you're happy and you know it, clap your hands" - I kid you not. Hello? They're not 4 years old.

Telling a child who is somewhere in the beginning of puberty that they "shouldn't" be interested in dating because they're too young is like, well (I can't think of a good analogy here)... you can't tell someone how to feel. You can tell them what behavior you expect, and what consequences they may face if they don't behave, and that's all.

I also think that they are not the ones who should be telling the children they're too young to date. I have questions as to why a 5th grader's mother is letting her go to the movies with a 6th grader who's known to be a troublemaker, but whatever, it's not MY KID. The parents should decide as they see fit what they allow their children to do outside of school.

I'm mulling this over but for now I have pointed out to my daughter that gossip is gossip even if you are gossiping to the teacher, and the other kids WON'T like a tattletale.

Seriously

What I wouldn't give

to be sitting in a beach chair drinking a strawberry daquiri with ridiculous amounts of alcohol in it, right now, looking out at the waves while the sun sets.

Alone.


(OK Suzy, you can come too. As long as you don't bug me.)

It's easy, unless it's not

So, here is a brief apology to anyone who doesn't know how to encrypt their modem. I forget, being that I'm touching computers practially 24x7, that it's not always that easy. (I lucked out, and got a modem with good clear documentation written by someone with a good grasp of the English language) A friend of mine sent me a note saying "so how do I do mine?" and I have NO IDEA!!! I'm sorry, C !! (She was really nice about it).

Isn't it funny that in many marriages there is one person who is the total techie gadget geek and there is one who could care less about how many megapixels the camera is?? The thing about my parents is, Sue and I think that our father would love tooling around on the internet, but my mother refuses to pay for any sort of 'net connection and she thinks the internet is riddled with porn and has nothing good to offer. I guess today didn't help?? Ooopsie.

(So no, she doesn't read my blog.)

Priceless

New laptop for Suzy: about $700
Internet connection: about $45 per month, unless your neighbors are stupid*

Going to our parent's home (which has a TV from 1984, NO cable, NO DVD player, NO iPod, no cell phones, no digital cameras, and definitely no fancy new laptops or wireless internet connections) , finding that their neighbors don't secure their wireless routers, having our mother gasp "You can't get any PORN on there, can you?" and showing her that Yes, in fact, you CAN, while our father laughs and laughs and our mother turns MORE pale by the moment and bites off all her fingernails because surely the federal government is going to burst through the door and arrest her at any moment.... priceless.

This is why I love my sister. We may burn in h-e-double toothpicks together but we'll be laughing at inapropriate things the entire time.


* really. Just even set up ONE LITTLE BIT of security if you buy a wireless router. Sheesh. Set up encryption and use a key... it's RIGHT THERE in the documentation that comes with the modem.

For the right price

Suzy and I will come to your house and paint a mural, but it will have a lot of zeros. (The price, not the mural.) But Sorry John, we don't paint in the nude.

Thank you all for the kind words! We are thrilled with how it came out and B understands that she absolutely Must. Not. Ever. Puke. On The Wall. We are starting to put her room all back together. I'm TIRED of this project!


PS: Note to the Angus beef ad execs:
What idiot decided that women in the northeast would love an ad where a woman swoons over a dude in a cowboy hat and orders angus beef from the butcher because he did? Oh please. Just, oh please. ::::eyeroll:::

PSS: Note to LOST people
Another clip show this week? I hate you. I'm done now. The Office is NEW for the rest of the season.

And

..one last picture... a better picture of the tree in the corner

I'll stop now (smile).

Until all of the furniture is back in the room, that is. (We have a bedspread and new rug that will go REALLY well with this mural.)

Done

As done as it's going to be... I was trying to make the palms on the right smaller and darker, as though they are farther back in the distance, and I'm not entirely happy with it, but that's just me...

I was hoping to get the room back together today, but oh well. That's my life, always takes 50% longer to do something than I think it will.

Getting there

(Edited... took the picture out because I have a newer one posted now of the finished mural).

After about 9 hours of painting today with my sister this is where we stand. The cabinet will be moved when all is said and done. The tree, which is in the corner, is not finished... it will have two branches on the right side too. I also need to finish the shoreline near the tree (more rocks). Sue did the ocean/sand/sky, I worked on the Big Tree.

My daughter loves it so far. I never thought to NOT let her see it at all until it was done. D'oh.

We used sandstone spray paint for the beach sand. Hee hee. It's textured sand.

For fun she did this gecko over the doorway so you might notice it as you're walking out of the room. It took her maybe 20 minutes? She is an awesome artist. Me, I'm good at trees. (Silly face goes here.)

I'm so tired. My legs are killing me. Tree = (up the ladder + down the ladder ) x1000

Yay

This is John, Johnny & Shamus at Lotusphere last January. Well, not really.

Suzy got her new PC yesterday. Who's the best sister? No, not me, she is because now she sends me stuff like this...





Painting is going well again. Mr. Paint Mixer Guy only laughed a little when I went back for another quart. I got the rest of the main wall color on all of the walls last night. Today we start the mural. Mr. C has volunteered to re-do all of the white trim(where I've blotched green and blue many times....)

Well not exactly

I had intended to point out in my previous post that it wasn't ACTUALLY 85, it was a high of about 76, which was excellent. The bank right down the road from me has a sign which shows the temperature, and it's always off by about 10 degrees. It's rather hilarious. The bank's been open a couple of years and that thing's never right.

Wish me luck. I'm going back into the painting project. Hopefully I will have photos to show my progress by the end of the weekend.

Or I'll be on my way to Tahiti.

How not to paint right

It's too dry and hot today (85*) to paint. Me, knowing nothing about painting, I began to paint anyway. I would touch the roller to the wall, and the paint would evaporate before my eyes.

One quart.

One wall.

Back to Lowe's. That cute paint guy (half my age) is reeeeeally going to like me now.

But damn, that one wall does look pretty good. So, there's that.

I ordered mine

“It's me! I'm the bobblehead! Yes!” - Dwight

Get yours today!

(here)

Fly indeed

I was sitting waiting for son at the dentist and playing sudoku on my palm pilot. Exciting stuff.

I glanced over at my daughter, who was reading Field & stream. (Huh? Yeah, I know.)

I realized she was reading an ad entitled 'my husband's secret to amazing intimacy'.

Oh, carp, as the fisherman say.

Breathe. Breathe.

I casually said "whatcha reading, honey?" She gave a little sigh and said 'I have no idea.' It was difficult but I managed not to laugh.

I waited a while and had a chance to flip through the magazine. Ads for Viagra, Cialis, and Maxoderm Connection.

It was kinda funny to me that one of the stories on the cover was '50 best lures of all time'. (The fishing lure they photographed had a little devil's face on it. Weird.)

I guess it's all that time out on the boat with not much to do. Plenty of time to mull certain topics over.

Now, see

I am someone who finds unending humor in the fact that Brooke Shields also* welcomed a baby into the world on Tuesday.

*Did you notice that ( Cruise ) - C - E = can be rearranged to the baby's name, Suri ? Will the weirdness end now?? Please?

Oh, no

Be afraid. Be very afraid.

My daughter is bouncing off the walls over this news.

Sigh...

(painting her room is going well. If you don't count going back to the store because buying a quart of each color was only half what I needed, that is... I got the primer coat done, plus one coat of color on each wall. Someone, please come help me??? Please? At least my Sirius is keeping me company.)

Thoughts

Painting white primer is easy in a room with white trim. Tomorrow I'm doomed. I'll have blue and green all over my trim... I'm sure.. (which reminds me of my favorite quote from Robots:

Even though you had a discouraging day, remember...there's another one coming tomorrow! )

Babysitting a child who is clearly held ALL OF THE TIME is a challenge - gotta go!

WHAT have I started?

I've done a crazy thing...we're emptying out my daughter's room and painting it. Nothing like a relaxing couple of days off. (That kid has SO much clutter. We're only putting 1/2 or 2/3 of her stuff back in...)

I'm going with a "beach" sort of look. Two walls will be very soft blue, two will be green. I'm hoping the paint doesn't look as dark as it does in this picture... it doesn't in person. The trim will stay white and the walls are broken up quite a bit by windows/doors, etc... it's a pretty small room. The furniture's white.

We're going to get this part done, then do a wall mural over her bed. (that's what the other colors are for... ideas for beach and palm tree- mural will be loosely based on this (with a palm tree in the one corner of the room...):

Yeah... I'm crazy. I'm thinking acrylic paint for the mural (and I'll stock up on bin paint if I ever sell the house.... whatever...that's not happening any time soon). I really want to use grit paint for the sand but Mr. C is going "well....."

This project, of course, will snowball out of control in no time. I now need new switchplates, a new mirror & clock for her, seashell knobs, a new lamp... I need to take the (cream) rug out of my son's room because her rug is pink right now.

SO then HE gets a new rug and we do his room (baseball stadium mural). Dare me to buy astroturf?

Crazy.

Happy Easter

This is what I see, on Easter morning, looking down from the choir loft.

I like to be up there. Not only because of the singing. I just feel like I'm hidden away from the laws and the controversies, and the way mankind has thouroughly fucked up what is supposed to be a pure and good thing - feeling close to God.

The hypocrites and the gossips and judges can't find me there. The ones who say "my religion is better than your religion. " ( I personally think you should find the religion right for YOU, and not listen to anyone else....) Then there are the ones who want "proof" ... you can never quite give enough proof to someone who doubts. I hide away from them all, in my loft that you can only reach by climbing a steep spiral staircase.

I attend the church that I do, in part because when I married, he went to church regularly and I didn't. I was seeking more stability and happiness. Going to church became something of an anchor for me. From one week to the next I could go, and the mass would still be the same, no matter what was going on in the world around me, or my personal life. I find the thought of priests ordained by priest ordained by priests (...repeat for centuries....) ordained by the apostles to be somehow comforting. An ever-so- slightly tangible link to Christ.

Before I joined the choir, I would sit during mass, usually holding a child, and just aim to have one moment of stillness during the mass where I could look at the statues and windows and other works of art and muse about the devotion to God that these artists felt. I guess I needed those visual aids to get me through certain periods in my life. I still do. When I am most sad and confused about what the future holds for me and those people I call "mine", I take great comfort in the beauty I find in this church.

Another thing that I have always loved is the music. Before I joined the choir, I would close my eyes and rock a child and just hear the beautiful sounds drifting down, and it meant more to me than the sermons, usually. Now, I am up there. The actual, physical music that I hold, in many cases, is very worn. The edges are roughened from years of being held - certain pieces are literally missing the section that corresponds to the part where you would pinch it between your thumb and first finger. Those are my favorite pieces to sing. I hold them, and I think about the men and women who have sung them before me. I wonder what burdens they carried into this choir loft, and what joys and sadness went through their minds each week as they sang.

I still look around at my choirmates and feel slightly out of place. The Uncertain Convert, sitting amid the people who really "are" religious. I don't go to confession because I can't see past the person of the priest, to the sacrament. I feel that God certainly sees the things I do, and he knows what's in my heart, and how I am struggling with certain events and thoughts and feelings in my life. I am not able or willing to lay all of that out in front of another human being.

So if I sound a little bit sad around the edges, well, I guess I am. There are things I'm really worried about nowadays, and I don't write about most of them here. This is my "fun/silly/whatever" blog. But I still have hope that certain things in my life will turn around or change in some way for the better, and I still find comfort and hope, when I go to my church.

Who sez

...money can't buy happiness? Guess again.

Isn't it pretty? (Mine actually looks darker than this.)

I just made two loaves of banana bread in about ten minutes. I can't believe how much longer it takes if I have to do all of the mashing and mixing by hand. Never again!

Now I have time to, oh, I don't know, JOG or something. I have a feeling I'd better start. There seems to be quite a lot of baking in my future.

Mini wine review

Last night I opened up a bottle of Ramon Cardova "Rioja" (2003) while I was slamming pots and p.... I mean, making dinner.

It's a spanish red wine, , made from Tempranillo grapes ( ...from "the old vines surrounding the town of Haro, La Rioja" - dig that) and I really liked it. This text is also lifted right from the bottle:

With its bright ruby red color, a nose of ripe wild berries and balsamic aromas, Ramon Cardova is ideal with red meat, fish, and soft, light cheeses.

I'm not one for a real strong finish, and that's one reason I liked this wine. It was nice with the meal (steak and salad, not that any of those buggers deserved it, it's what I wanted....) and it was good to sip afterwards while I watched American Idol contestants mangle Queen songs.

Not bad, not bad at all. Incidentally, it's also kosher.

Membership is free - but it will cost you

I have just nominated a friend of mine as the first official member of Carly's "Motherhood Is a Life Sentence" club. (No F in there... we're too tired for that shit.) It's all based on her reply to my "vent" email about how my evening went. (Here's a hint, class. It didn't go well. Yelling and punishments and crying and guilt. Just another day in parental paradise.) She sealed her membership with "....the chore sheet I have posted on the bulletin board in the kitchen, that NO ONE FOLLOWS, ..."

The worst feeling in the world is when you think you're the only one who sucks at this gig they call "parenting." It's nice to know that other people are frantically bailing out THEIR rowboat too.

Those cute little babies, they smell nice and their little toes are so damn cute, and you can't sleep through the crying. You get sucked into their games and start to think of Elmo as a friend, and then ---whammo....

You turn away for a minute, and they tell a teacher that a burglar shot a dog that you don't even have, or they sneak in their room to put on eyeshadow just before they get in a car for a family party. (If you're lucky, it's the boy, and the girl, and not vice versa. Luck is all relative here.)

I'd write more but I'm out of steam. Maybe it's the glass of wine I'm sharing with a friend even though B is an hour away.

Thanks for the support

Where I'm going

So much pain and so much darkness
In this world we stumble through
All these questions
I can't answer
So much work to do

But when I get where I'm going
And I see my maker's face
I'll stand forever in the light
Of his amazing grace
Yeah when I get where I'm going
There'll be only happy tears
Hallelujah

I will love and have no fear
When I get where I'm going

-sung by Brad Paisley


This is the most hectic week of the year, with extra choir rehearsals and extra church services, as I've mentioned.

Today was just a Bad Day. Late already, had't left the house yet, and one mini crisis after another keeping me from getting out. It seems that everywhere I look there are things I haven't done.

By the time I got to work I was still pretty frayed. Someone (and I know he meant well) said "are you OK?" and then the tears started.

(I think that's covered in Chicks 101. Do not ASK a girl who is obviously not OK, if she is OK, because her face will spring a leak and you'll be thinking "oh, crap, now what have I done?" But also do not walk away without speaking and pretend you didn't notice, because that will be the wrong course of action too. Get it? There is NO foolproof course of action if a woman is crying, unless you are dating her and you didn't cause the tears in the first place, and you offer TLC. However, IM'ing and offering to do anything you can is much appreciated- even if you DO say that you won't kill anybody for me.)

So, yes, I'm blogging. (no snotty remarks, because I do have another friend who WILL kill someone for me if I really ask nicely...) Ten minutes can't cure the tornado that is my house. I am tired of trying to inspire the other people in it to help me keep it clean.

I am now accepting applications for a cook, a maid, a laundry wench, a homework tutor, and a bookkeeper/ receptionist. Right now, those jobs are all held by yours truly and I'm seriously considering going on strike.

Days like this I feel like I'm in mile 12 of a marathon and it's alllll uphill from now until the end. Does this ever get easier? How do people work full time and get stuff done and raise kids? I can't even manage it while working part time.

What bothers me the most is that I can get sucked so far down by the little stuff. I'm afraid that someday when I have Big Stuff to deal with that I'll just sink under the wave.

Games

There's this guy in my choir who is late e-v-e-r-y rehearsal... he strolls in at 7:20. We'll be in in the middle of something, and he breaks the flow. Notice me, notice me. Every Sunday morning, he's late again. We sing a song before mass, which he always misses. It's like some sort of game that he plays. It can't be accidental.

Today he was early for mass. We messed up our first song. His presence threw off the cosmic balance.

Tonight, he skidded in at the last possible minute, and our performance was much better. Order has been restored.

* * *

If my mother says "we're not doing anything for Easter, but we're having your brother over for dinner" (in other words, Carly, Mr. and the kids are not invited) do I need one therapist, or two?

I mean, frankly, after singing tonight, then I'll be singing Thursday night, Friday night, Saturday night, and Sunday morning.... I'll have to be careful not to wish anyone "happy freaking easter". I'm over it by the actual day. I've been singing these songs since January 2. I love to sing them, but by next Sunday, I'll be tired and hoarse. I'll just go home, put my sweats on, and make brunch. Pass the mimosas.

But... still.

* * *

If someone else in my family asked me on Superbowl Sunday what I am doing April 29, and I told them I have plans, and today they mentioned that they're having a party on April 29, and then got annoyed because I STILL HAVE THE SAME OTHER PLANS, an event I'm responsible for.... is that me being crazy again?

Boobs

Prince Harry likes a lap dance - so what? Go to it, H.... just be sure to tip well. This is really international news? Sucks to be you.

I was looking through this catalog because they have so many cool necklaces in the photos. Like this. I'm so going to copy that. But every shirt is mega-cleavage, which annoys me. Grrr. I can't wear this stuff to work...if it were cut a little differently, I could. Can't frighten my lunch companions.

I'm all about contradictions. Just the mood today!

Funny

I almost had chinese for dinner...

You Are Chinese Food

Exotic yet ordinary. People think they've had enough of you, but they're back for more in an hour.

What Kind of Food Are You?

aggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhh

I had somewhat of an annoying day, because a couple of people got on my nerves. Not a surprise, given the people in question.

Since I have choir rehearsal tonight at 7, Mr. C took both kids to my son's baseball practice at 6.

At 6:02 my train of thought went something like this:
(Alone in house) x (45 minutes of free time) = (light candle) + (relax in warm bubble bath and picture drowning my foes) - (keep one eye on the clock)

It seemed like a good plan... because (you can't really appreciate this if you are not co-existing with small, noisy, demanding creatures who want inconvenient things like FOOD and ATTENTION all the time....) the house was so quiet. If I'm here, they usually are too. I NEVER get the house to myself.

It seemed like a great plan.

Until....

(sigh...)

until the stick/ lever ( that I need to flip up, to plug up the tub ) broke off in my hand.

Broke off in my hand.

Not conducive to soothing, calming, and other adjectives I had in mind.

Not at all. The quiet of the house was definitely shattered. (Some paint on the bathroom ceiling blistered during my response to the incident.)

Something tells me this won't be cheap, either.

In ten states

All of the blogs I visit seem to be slow lately. Must be spring fever. Or the fact that Blogger seems cranky today.

I'm short on time and topics, but I do have this for you:

Suzy (my sister, for any of you who don't know) got a webcam for her existing laptop PC. That particular PC is a beast, running windows 98, and it is painfully slow. It is frustrating to do ANYTHING on that PC.... takes quite a while to even start it up. I was trying to help her get it (the webcam) working the morning of the raffle, with no luck. (This would be one reason why I am
kicking some money her way from my recent windfall. Another reason is that she is just freaking cool and I know she would come up with an excuse to give ME money too for something fun if the tables were turned)

She turned to a friend of hers who can provide better tech support and he eventually got the right windows drivers loaded so that the thing worked. As a joke Suzy said "Let's test it out", lifted her shirt and flashed the camera (the girl's got probably 50 Victoria's secret bras, I'm sure it was a nice one that day) and the computer immediately popped up a message:

"An illegal activity has occured. The system service will be shut down."

Crash! It was one of those moments.

At least she didn't use the badonkadonk.


Be good... and if you can't be good... be careful.

It's gone already

Busy weekend. That clock change didn't help me.

What with enjoying the amazingly warm weather, celebrating a couple of family birthdays, winning ten thousand dollars, and singing in a choral performance with another church's choir, and then trying to pack away some winter clothing, the weekend pretty much shot by.

Hmmm?

Oh, that.

My children's school runs an annual raffle - tickets cost $100, and only 250 are sold. If you do this right (sell all the tix) the organization keeps $10K and gives away the rest of the cash in various denominations -- the top one being the ten thousand dollar prize.

I bought a ticket for myself and the Mr last fall, and convinced my coworkers to buy pieces of a second. (Note to all.... if you do this, always be V E R Y clear about which is which. The best thing I did was hand that 2nd ticket to someone a couple of weeks ago and say "THIS is the shared ticket." Since they're numbered tickets, no questions later. Well, not many anyway.)

When the announcer called out MY number (178) I was shocked, and pretty much just slapped my hand down on the ticket, thinking "Woah. Mine. Right here. Holy shit." The woman sitting next to me laughed and asked if I thought she was going to try to steal it. I'm not a screamer, it was a stunned silence that lasted a few moments. I was shaking so hard, I could barely walk up to the front of the room.

It was surreal. I just sat there staring at the check, with my name on it, and all of those zeros. (The treasurer is a friend of mine and laughed and did NOT make it out to me and Mr. C -- only me) Then, of course, I bought the next round of drinks.

This is going to pay the tuition for my kids for next year. I've been trying to figure out how to afford a figure that's basically an additional car payment each month (if not two, depending on what kind of car you drive). Because I just don't have that money these days.

It's also going to pay off some credit cards. Oh, I know the evils of credit cards. But when you have kids with no jeans to wear because they just keep growing and growing, you can't always say "well, we'll get that next month when I have the cash to pay for it." (I am the first to admit I don't budget well, and live a bit just beyond my means. Help!!! )

One woman at the table started trying to convince me that my family of four has to take a Disney cruise. "It's about two thousand dollars a person." I smiled and nodded, thinking "you just don't get the fact that we have about as much of a chance of going to Disney with this money as I do of going to the moon on the next shuttle flight." Hey, it's not her fault I can't / don't budget well. Not her fault she's a stay at home mom with more money than me. (Hey, it's my blog and I'll pout if I want to. )

So as I looked at that check, I felt a little sad, thinking "Oh, Mickey, you're so close... and yet so far...."

And then I looked at the check again and laughed the laugh of a person who thinks they've finally gone mad, and sat there waiting for someone to pinch me and wake me from this crazy dream.

Hasn't happened yet.