I don't quite know what's going on lately, but, I've been feeling ten types of groovy. I feel untold reams of stress unspooling from my shoulders. I feel huge chunks of yuck melting off my neck like glaciers melting.
It's melting. The winter is melting and spring's emerging. I don't see my breath outside anymore. I don't have to scrap the frost of my car windows anymore. Spring! she is waking up.
It is fabulous. OH LORDY DEE, LORDY DOO!!
Get funky Ya'll!
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
The photo above is from "Let the right one in". A Swedish vampire film. AWESOME FILM!
Here's a few stories I want to blog about but don't have enough time to:
1. Ya know when a candle is burning and the black smoke comes puffing off the flame? Mr. Hall showed me how to make that stop by taking a tissue and cleaning the wick. So, a few weeks ago, I grab a tissue and um, forgot to extinguish the flame. And accidentally set myself on fire. But it's ok, the fire was out in mere seconds.
2. When I was in grad school, 3 years ago, I was at the library with my laptop. This guy came up, about my age (early 30s) and started asking me about it. I did my best to answer his questions about the features, the doodads and whatnot. Then he kept asking me questions about it. He was pleasant enough so I kept talking, being all chipper. I was really happy with the laptop, it was a gift from Mr. Hall, my husband. And I said, "My husband says it's the best type for what I need." (record scratching sound)
He then promptly excused himself. End of conversation. Turns out, he was hitting on me. huh . . . well . . . .
2. I use to have a shower head like the one above. I LUUURRRRVVED THAT SHOWER HEAD AND THE GLORIOUS HOT SHOWER IT RAINED UPON ME. I love to take redunk showers lasting 120 minutes or more. It's only fair given all I give to humanity. Then. yesterday. for no reason I can discern, it was changed to this:
Mr. Hall says, "Your showerhead was a water waster." Then drops the subject. Which really?? REALLLY??? I mean, he didn't even consult me. And now I'm flummoxed! I can't do anything about it. I don't know how to change the shower head back. SO I'M POWERLESS AND HAVE TO TAKE SHOWERS USING THAT PUNY LITTLE SHOWERHEAD. Puny little 10 minutes showers.
this is no good. I'll need to extract some sort of revenge. Maybe I'll talk about how Mr. Hall had to give a sperm sample. He's sworn me to secrecy. But he doesn't understand the mind of a blogger. We tell our stories. It's really unstoppable.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
One of my favorite books of all times is "Ultra Marathon Man". The man is Dan Karnazes and he not only runs marathons, he runs them back to back. Like six marathons in a row, in one day. Only the marathons are through the rocky mountains, death valley or other forsaken real estate.
The book chronicles how and why he became an ultra marathon runner. The man started running to escape the pain of losing a sister. He started running after a night of bad tequila and almost starting an affair. He put on his gardening shoes and took off.
It's a read I return to again and again for inspiration.
I read it because of how he talks about the pain. Not so much the emotional pain but the physical pain he endures while running. About how, after a triple marathon, he went pack to his car and his body seized up. Then he proceeded to puke all over his dashboard.
That's awesome stuff I dare say! It's awesome because he's not mistaking comfort for happiness. He's going for it. Again and again.
Which brings me to this.
At one time I had a passion for yoga. It was my first brush with facing down the mental game of sport. If you think about it, yoga is putting yourself in poses and staying there. Just like running is well, running. Both sound easy but once you get into it, it doesn't stay easy for long. Thus begins the mental game. Of not listening to that voice that says stop. This is too hard.
Because I'm not listening. I went to kickboxing and dammit, I can't really walk today because of it. Seriously. I.can't.walk. I hobble and limp and wince and really OW OW OWOWOWOWOW I'm just trying to sit down on the couch. . . . It's awesome.
I've been mistaking comfort for happiness.
So I'm going to class again.
Once I can start walking again I'm heading back to class.
Saturday, March 26, 2011
We made a deal with the kids: When they wake up, if they're very quiet, they can pour themselves a bowl of frosted mini wheats and enjoy. BUT! If they wake us up, clamoring around--they'll only have oatmeal for breakfast. NO BROWN SUGAR EITHER!!
It's a simple yet brilliant plan. With an unexpected side effect.
As Mr. Hall and I lounge in bed, savoring the extra hour of sleep, we hear them. They quietly chatter away. Playing and pretending. Being soft and full of crazy imagination. Acting out Star Wars, pretending they're dragons or super mario characters.
It's just delightful this new morning routine. The advantages are endless.
And the tiny little kid voices, all bouncing round the room, that's the best part!
Thursday, March 24, 2011
When I finished this film, I knew I would watch it again. It was really tender and touched my heart, which you wouldn't expect given the subject matter. That being Monsters.
In this film, the Monsters are aliens that landed on earth six years prior. They came, they destroyed and they're still here. They plant their eggs on the sides of trees and continue to populate. They live in the Infected Zone of Mexico and Costa Rica. Which is choice real estate if you ask me. Warm, tropical, lush.
The film begins there, in Mexico, with a photojournalist who is chasing Monster photos. There are plenty of dead Monster photos to be had. Monster carcasses are plentiful with their charred, black tentacles strung over really tall buildings. However, the photographer needs a live Monster photo. This brings in the most cash. He's not having much luck.
He is then presented with an opportunity. He is hired to escort a wealthy businessman's daughter out of the infected zone. He's not too keen on this. "I don't want to be a baby sitter.", he says. Eventually, being cash poor, he relents. This begins a pilgrimage back to the United States.
I loved Samantha, the blond, for so many reasons. First off, she's not a whiner! Not once did she complain or bemoan her circumstances. Secondly, she is very lovely to watch for two hours. Not at all hard to be around. She is not a hardened badass, flinging machetes left and right. Not that there is anything wrong with grabbing an M-16 and blowing away some Monsters. But in this film, it would have been completely uncalled for. Samantha is womanly, tender and beautiful. Like I said, I loved her.
I also loved how the two began to interact. At first, the photographer is a bit huffy when he offers his masculine touches of care. Like letting her go first when they board a train. Or stepping up to the ticket counter and buying tickets. Eventually he does this with a smile. Eventually he does this as an act of caring.
It shows she is valued. And she accepts the care nicely. Like a dance really. The man will lead and the woman responds. It's delicate, powerful and made my heart ache. What makes this even more powerful is the setting.
All this growing lovey between the two happens as they travel through the jungle, finding devastation and wearing gas masks to stay alive. The Monsters are ever present. Picking up cars and F-16 fighter jets, tossing them down mountain sides. Killing scores of humans like unseen ants.
My favorite scene is pictured above. They are walking through a destroyed village and Samantha pulls out a gas mask. The photographer gently touches her forearm and hands her his mask. He does this because his mask is full gas mask, complete with eye protection. Hers was only a half mask. They exchange masks silently. This scene made me weepy.
There is a whole other part to the scene that make me jump. Because before I forget, this movie scared the crap out of me. Really, it's not just the tender, its the scary too. That's why I loved this movie, hook line and sinker.
Monday, March 21, 2011
First off I must say that the Wii boxing is no joke. It passes my sweat/sore test. It makes me sweat buckets and I'm sore the next day. Any workout that does not do this-- does not count in my book.
That being said, I've never boxed and dang wow, it's really hard. Until this morning.
I had an epiphany. Well. Epiphanies actually.
The power of the punch does not come from the arms. Which is a good thing. I have but wimpy girly arms. The power comes from a transfer of power from the legs, belly and back. Shift the weight just right, twist the side, snap that forward and KAPOW!!
The arm is just the deliverer.
Boxing a lot like yoga. It's mind and body. My doctor said to ease off of yoga and really, I'll never take the advice to ease off exercising again. Because the more I work myself, the more I pull power from my belly core, the more it rises. "It" is frustration and anger and sad and crazy and yuck and ugly snot bubble cry from the inside. Boxing moves the enemy to the outside.
Don't get me wrong. I am smart and let God embrace my pain and yay that's awesome. I have never been more healed.
But the body, it still holds onto the ugly, enemy energies. And my belly grows and my posture sloops and I feel less connected to the world I walk upon.
So I fight back. Not only being thankful for the blessings of such a body, but acting like it.
And now, here's a song that illustrates what the snot bubble ugly cry sounds like when it's coming up and when I'm fighting it.
Yeah. good times indeed!
Friday, March 18, 2011
I am reading your comments. I'm just too dang busy to properly respond. I have a very creative and chatty bunch sometimes, down in the comments and for this am I am thankful. So please comment away and know that you are read. AND BROWN SEND MY YOUR ADDRESS SO I CAN GET THE zombie dvd to you.
Well, I'm off again on an adventure this weekend. Alas, there will be no chickens . . . . lots of fish though. Lots and lots of fish!
And maybe a lobster or two :)
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Look. I'm sorry about this post. I don't meant to spill out the stuff of my life when what I have to say will NOT impress my new followers. Look at my 59 followers! So happy you're here!! And yes I realize one of them is me and a few of them prol'l never read this stuff anyway but shhhh don't spoil the dream people!
And really, no one wants to hear stuff that's weird like this but if I could keep things to myself and NOT share-- I wouldn't have a blog now would I??!!
ok so. Operation "Let's get knocked up" aka "Mommy wasn't careful" has been going on for seven months now. Which I'm ok with but I'm not really ok because I'm letting them do tests.
Because the problem is not that we can't get pregnant. Everything appears to be working just fine. Hormones, cycles yada yada yada. So now they need to check the structure of body parts that cannot be seen.
I mean, it's not my fault. If I were a guy I'd just put my business in a cup and be done with it. But my parts are inside. So this test I'm having, this involves flushing my inner girly parts with dye. During the flushing, they take a picture and get an xray like this:
That's right, it's time for a Hysterosalpingogram. CLICK IT I DARE YA.
Seriously. I mean really? They're going to do what to my what now?
sigh. well. sigh. ok.
Test is friday. wishes me luckies!
Sunday, March 13, 2011
The film at the center of the contest:
Alice Jacobs is Dead
The contest was this, write three sentences about why you love Zombie films and Mr. Hall will pick the winner. The winner gets the movie in the mail.
The Entries (in the order in which they were received):
1. Brown from Chronicles of a Brown Man:
"I love zombie movies because they are a mosh pit of human conflict and emotion. Also, they make me wonder if those who pledge that inevitable promise will be able to pull the trigger when the time comes. And, quite frankly, it's the only time other than being stranded in the Andes when eating other people is totally acceptable."
2. Green Girl from Green Girl from Wisconsin:
"They're already dead, so no rules apply to zombies except total annihilation. And they're carnivores, which always makes for better plotting."
3. Slyde from Slyde's House of Pancakes:
"I think the zombie genre scares the hell outta me because the type of fright you get with zombies is unique. They dont jump out at you, or suddenly pounce on you and rip you to bits, or run spring out from under your bed. No, a good zombie film is a slow boil of terror, as the threat slowly gets worse, and closer, ever closer, until the terror-stricken victims realize that they have no where else to turn."
4. Mel from Luna Secrets
"Zombie Movies, how do I love? Let me count the ways..... ever since I was scarred as a child, having seen Night of the Living Dead at the movie theater, and imagined them walking out of the woods or fields at every house I've lived in since - I've been smitten, or bitten with being scared by zombies. I can't pass up a zombie movie, be they awful (C.H.U.D.), frightful (28 days later), hilarious (Shaun of the dead, Zombieland), heartwrenching (Colin) or just plain cheesy (Zombie Honeymoon). The thought of watching a touching, well acted indie zombie movie with Adrienne Barbeau (Escape from New York!!)makes me very, very happy."
I WANT TO THANK ALL OF YOU WHO ENTERED. THE LOVE OF ZOMBIES IS A TABOO LOVE THAT OFTEN DOES NOT SPEAK IT'S NAME.
So often when a group of people talk about movies they like, they speak of bland, unoriginal fare. It is rare, the Zombie movie goer. So rare!
So thank you for saying it loud and proud!!
And these entries blew away. I had to lean on Mr. Hall to make the choice.
And the winner is:
That's the one Mr. Hall choose. SO BROWN! Email me at Butcher dot hollow at gmail
I will send the film post haste!
But for the rest of you! THANK YOU AND KEEP THE ZOMBIE LOVE ALIVE!!!
Friday, March 11, 2011
Monday: ZOMBIE CONTEST WINNER will be announced. The winner is not who I expected.
Wednesday: I am a writer Wednesday installment. It will be about my daughter's birth. yessirree bob!
Friday: Film review or discussion about paintball.
This morning the kids were playing hang man. The wee Mac (age 4) , who knows his letters but cannot spell, was manning the dry erase board and making up words. But again, he doesn't actually spell so they were made up words. He keep asking his sister go guess the letters in the made up words.
Pancake (age 8) does spell. And reads. And writes in full sentences. Writes paragraphs even. She never once corrected him or pointed out he wasn't spelling anything. They did this for 20 minutes until the oatmeal was ready.
MY KIDS ARE AWESOME!!!!
OK all have a good weekend and see you next week!
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Part of this blog, why I started this, was to get back to writing. Then I joined a real life writer's group. Here's one piece I wrote for that group.
When the man came round taking names, I knew it was time. I was done. Done running. Done fighting. Done being in charge. I threw my hand up, gave it a few pumps and said, "ME ME!!"
A month later, we gathered on the beach. In the sun I sat, gently petting the hem of my cotton dress. The sand coated my under shins. An Asian girl sat next to me, she asked if I go to this church. Off to the side I heard my kids begging, "Puuleaseeee . . . is everybody done yet? I wanna go swimming." I heard their Daddy give a hush, "No sweeties . . . Mommy's not done yet."
I walked into the lake. My dress ballooned outward. A breeze played with the puff, making waves in the purple cotton. I approached the pastor and he took my hand in his. He held a microphone in the other. As he spoke to the crowd, he stroked the back of my hand with his thumb. Turning to me, he asked my name and when I came to God. I said plainly and unplanned, "When my daughter was born seven years ago".
Then he asked, " Do you accept Jesus as your personal savior? "
"I DO! I DO! Here I am God, I'm all yours!"
The pastor gathered me in his arms, I plugged my nose and went limp. I let him hold all of me. I was dipped backwards and smooth water whooshed over me. Under water, I lingered, feeling weightless. Then I was lifted up. Wet and besotted.
Monday, March 7, 2011
Look what my daughter made. Up there! LOOK! so proud of her.
OK THAT'S IT.
this winter is killing me. KEEELLLINNNGGG MEEE. I want to climb mountains. And grab chainsaws and carve out totem poles from big logs of wood. I want to travel to spain and be all fancy and drink espresso in paris. I want to walk without hunching over, without gloves and scarf clutched to my neck. I want to hop on the bike and go to the park with my kids. And we'll chase them and be the monsters and they run and scream while we chase them.
It's unbelievable the amount of energy i have. The amount of energy that's just stifled by this stifling cold bastard of a winter.
i guess I'll just work out.
that being said. I forgot how much awesome this song is. really kicks my butt to go faster on the elipse. works out the rage.
"I kinda always knew I was gonna be your ex girlfriend. I hope I have a special place with the rest of them."
Saturday, March 5, 2011
It's been a long, long winter. My skin is pale, my feet are cold even on the inside of my house. The gray permeates the sky most every day.
This morning I heard chirping birds outside. The snow is getting slushy. I found myself wearing my coat with the zipper down.
Spring is fighting it's way to the surface. The winter winds are dying down.
With my love by my side we begin our adventure anew.
Friday, March 4, 2011
Hurley aka Hugo aka Jorge Garcia has a blog. Well, he has two. The first was when he was ON the island: HERE the second blog is him OFF the island. HERE. And even if he wasn't Hurley, his blog is funny and touching and I'd subscribe to it anyway.
I was diggin in the archives and came across his post called WRITE IT DOWN. When Jorge Garcia was a wee pup in high school he wrote the following things that he wanted: (and I quote from HERE)
-I want to be a part of a good ensemble television show.
-I want to book a job on location.
-I want a house in Hawaii.
DUDE WROTE THAT IN HIGH SCHOOL. AND DUDE. LOOK UP AT THAT PHOTO. THAT CAME TRUE.
WOOOOKOOOOOAOHFFHFHAHH!!!! OH MY GEE!!! WOWSERS!!!
So Hurley advised me to write down what I wanted. Ok, not just me but anyone reading his blog.
So, I immediately grabbed my post its and scribbled the following: (actual photo-yes that is my loopy handwriting.)
"I want to be pregnant (up carot) with twins girls and carry the twin girls to term + birth them".
I didn't want to wish for twins but once I started the sentence it came out cause really, inside, twin girllsss!! so I up caroted them back into the first part of the sentence.
There I go. Calling out. Daring the universe.
hee hee hee, here's hoping :)
Thursday, March 3, 2011
So. Mah job (mental health nurse practitioner) is dependent upon patients. Iffn I don't have patients coming in, I don't have much to do. Like today. I have four hours of cancellations. Because mental health patients have a high no-show rate. Because they are too busy being cray cray I guess. Or maybe they're busy servicing the Goddesses. WHO KNOWS?
So. That leaves me with nothing much to do. I could do my employee education stuff. But that's not due until October. I could do my mental health nurse practitioner education stuff. But that's not something I want to do.
I have books here to fill the time but nothing I want to read. I've made the rounds and chit chatted with coworkers but their patients ARE showing up so nothing to do there. Which brings me here. To ye old blog.
But, really, I've nothing much to say. Sure, there are lots of things I'm writing in the background. I've joined a real life writer's group here in real life. Which means I'm actually writing stuff not just this stuff. So yeah. I'll unleash those next week. but for now, nothing much to say.
I can say this though.
Woke up this morning with the overwhelming urge to take a pregnancy test. I have early, extra sensitive tests I can take 7 days post ovulation. But those never work out. Even when I've BEEN pregnant, I didn't come up positive until I was four weeks.
But. When I woke up this morning a little voice in my head said, "It's ok, you can test today." And I layed there, thinking yes, yes I can. But I didn't. I realize that testing this early is a fool's errand.
Needless to say, all this down time fuels my fever. My wondering and thinking about it. Thinking about the maybe baby in mah belly.
So I'll go now. I'll write up a review for Blood and Roses for Final Girl's Film club. Because that will be much more satisfying then reading about babycenter.com's tips on how to become pregnant.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
A few of the women were suprised by this. "Oh", they said, "my husband would never volunteer for that!" They said this kind of whisper like and round eyed.
Which got me thinking about my level of neediness and all that Mr. Hall does for me.
And there is a lack of what I do for him. Which I'm working on. He asks for a back massage most nights and this is the only thing he ever asks of me and dang if I don't try. But I am much better at being his sustainer.
Which is what Eve was. Eve is often listed as the 'helper' of Adam but really, she is the sustainer.
With this in mind I am mindful to sustain Mr. Hall properly. My attitude, the words I say, my facial expressions, the feelings I exude, I directly affect the Mr. Hall. I take care to fuel him properly. And I'm getting better at it.
I was mulling this over last night and I said to him, "How do you do this, be a husband to such a needy wife?"
"Well, it's not like you became needy overnight. You were a pretty needy girlfriend too. I knew what I was getting in to. It's not a suprise or anything." Then he snuggled close and said, "I love you".
AND THAT'S WHY I MARRIED MR. HALL.