You know how sometimes you just ‘know’ something? Regardless of what anyone tells you, even if that person is incredibly close to you, and you value their opinion a lot, if they disagree or try to pull you away from something, you just don’t listen?
The subject in question would be my book. I leave in 16 days to go to Guelph to the writer’s conference. I have signed up for some amazing writing courses, held by amazing authors and speakers. I have signed up for a manuscript critique that will last only 15 minutes. I get to sign up for a one on one with publishers and editors where I have basically 30 seconds to pitch my book. Zondervan is going to be there for goodness sakes, both the U.S. and Canada publishing company. And the beauty of this conference, is that it is being held by Christians. Which means I can pitch my book the way it was written. As to why it was written. It was written because 1) God told me to and 2) because there aren’t enough Christian kids’ books out there. And the ones that are out there are crap. Actually I won’t be saying that part. I’ll just say that there needs to be more diversity, so that non-Christians will pick up the literature as well and incorporate new thoughts and beliefs into their hearts and minds. And I get to go by myself. I haven’t gone anywhere by myself in a very long time. So I’ve dog-eared the Starbucks on my map for the 6 hour drive. Regardless, I’m getting off topic.
So I’ve written my book, and I’m ecstatic it’s done. I have enough doubts pop into my head, I don’t need to fuel the fire. And I have some very well meaning friends. But one in particular is standing out today, and it’s really bothering me. When I told her about my book and that it was almost finished (a few months ago) and that I was seeking publishers and I knew it would be hard etc.. and she could have said: good for you! Or ‘wow, I’m so proud of you!’ or even ‘Can I read it?’ (always my favourite) But no. What she said was, ‘Well, maybe it just won’t be published until after you’re dead.’
?????
I really didn’t know what to say to her, but I respect her very deeply and I said something like ‘huh’.
I probably should have said: ‘you are not making my heart feel very special right now’. (something I’ve taught the gaffer to say, even though it sounds kinda weiny-ish) or I could have said, which I what I probably should have said, as it is something I would most likely say, is: ‘you mean, good job! I’m so proud of you! Aim for the moon! You can do it! It’s God’s work so it’ll be blessed!’
But I didn’t.
So I guess I’m just writing this not to tell people to stop ‘stepping on my mojo’ (seriously, what does that mean??), but to stop discouraging people! These are their dreams! We don’t need crabby crabs like you who are incapable of believing six impossible things before breakfast to talk to us at all! Blah blah! Nyah!
Ok, that’s all.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
the fabulous long weekend
was ok.
friday involved a date day with rockstar hubby which was fabulous. we dropped the gaffer off and went to Cora's for another messed up breakfast (we will not be going anymore, they don't seem to understand what hot food means), then to the Glebe for a three hour walk. then he went to the firehall.
then he cut trees on saturday and went back to the firehall. gaffer and i purchased more flowers and worked in "_______'s big backyard" (insert gaffer's name). saturday night i put the gaffer to bed at 6 so i could have some quiet. he was asleep by 6:30, so that tells you what a handful he was.
sunday was church, and then homegroup fell apart so we went home and we all had a much needed nap. then we gardened, and i cleaned. i mean CLEANED the house. i was a machine! then we watched the Bee movie (not impressed, in my opinion, inappropriate for children with all the sexual inneundos). sunday late night involved watching 'Stardust'. good movie, but waaaaaay too long.
monday we took down the tree in the backyard, so now we only have one left. :( but it was dying, and there is nothing uglier than a dying chinese elm. Ulmus chinensis. then more cleaning and we went to bed at 8:30. the exhaustion hit hard.
looking forward to glebe garage sale and guelph conference..am experiencing teeny tiny butterflies.
friday involved a date day with rockstar hubby which was fabulous. we dropped the gaffer off and went to Cora's for another messed up breakfast (we will not be going anymore, they don't seem to understand what hot food means), then to the Glebe for a three hour walk. then he went to the firehall.
then he cut trees on saturday and went back to the firehall. gaffer and i purchased more flowers and worked in "_______'s big backyard" (insert gaffer's name). saturday night i put the gaffer to bed at 6 so i could have some quiet. he was asleep by 6:30, so that tells you what a handful he was.
sunday was church, and then homegroup fell apart so we went home and we all had a much needed nap. then we gardened, and i cleaned. i mean CLEANED the house. i was a machine! then we watched the Bee movie (not impressed, in my opinion, inappropriate for children with all the sexual inneundos). sunday late night involved watching 'Stardust'. good movie, but waaaaaay too long.
monday we took down the tree in the backyard, so now we only have one left. :( but it was dying, and there is nothing uglier than a dying chinese elm. Ulmus chinensis. then more cleaning and we went to bed at 8:30. the exhaustion hit hard.
looking forward to glebe garage sale and guelph conference..am experiencing teeny tiny butterflies.
Monday, May 12, 2008
regardless
Ok, what a weird weekend. It started off well enough. I mean, I’ve been in a rough mood all week, what with the g.i. diet, no more sugar from junk food, no junk food for that matter, cutting back carbs (how many pieces of toast do I need anyway?), and eating more veggies and fruit (the diet tells me to use a sweetener but I can’t stand the taste, so I don’t use any): and with the heart monitor for a day, another crick in my neck (where oh where are you cloud bed?), and the horrible headaches from no sugar, it was indeed a weird week. As a side note, I’m pleased to say that I’ve lost 10 pounds in the process. not in a week. But I’m not seeing any changes. Except I’m not as bloated. And I poop twice a day. Yay fibre! So I’m glad that I only have 13 to go.
Regardless.
So Friday I was in an awesomely happy mood. I spent the day by myself. I wrote two amazing chapters of my new book, then I went for a walk with our neurotic dog in the dog park, then picked up the gaffer to go home. Rockstar hubby finished early so I was very happy. Except we had to go to a family function at his house. With people who don’t talk to me. One family member in particular can’t talk to me. I’m ‘unapproachable’. I hate that. I hate being classified like that. Like when I helped organize bring 30 ladies out tree walking, one of them said, ‘oh be on time or she’ll freak out’. That’s not a nice thing to say. It reminds me of being told that to be near me, one has to walk on eggshells. That really cuts.
Regardless.
This family member of rockstar hubby’s, couldn’t tell me that they were angry that I told their child to stop being a tattletale.
Background:
Went to a family function. Gaffer was playing with two other children. One child (the tattletale), came up to me to tell me what gaffer had done wrong. So I went to check it out. Gaffer wasn’t really doing anything wrong. He was upset because the other two wouldn’t play with him. (and that always hurts a mom’s heart, turning her into bear cub mama, when other kids won’t play with her own child) so I said to the child tattletale, he just wants to play with you. Half an hour later, child tattletale comes up to me and says, ‘gaffer broke a necklace’ and I said, ‘so you’re tattling on him’. he said, ‘um, no.’ and the child’s mom was there and she rolled her eyes and said, ‘he’s going through a phase with being a tattletale, we’re working on it’. So I turn to him and say, ‘you know what? You don’t need to be a tattletale. If gaffer is doing something dangerous, then you can tell me, ok?’ and he leaves.
I find out two weeks later from rockstar hubby that the father of tattletale called him to say that when he got home, tattletale child was hiding under the table because he was afraid that daddy would be mad that he tattletaled. Apparently tattletale child was ‘traumatized’ by the event. And could I please not say that to their son anymore. That I need to respect their own parenting skills and to leave it alone.
Huh.
So yah, I got pissed. But for the right reasons. I was pissed off because he couldn’t tell me himself. I got pissed off because the kid’s mother was right there when I said it, and she agreed with me afterwards. I got pissed off because she wasn’t the one telling me that. I got pissed off because if someone is being bad, to my face, I am going to tell them. That’s how you parent with love. I didn’t tell him he had to play with gaffer, I didn’t tell him that he was being mean by excluding him (although I really wanted to), I told him he didn’t need to tattletale, to try and get gaffer in trouble so that gaffer would stop ‘bothering’’ them.
Psh…I didn’t think there would be family politics now. Sigh. Whatever. So at the family function, I spent half an hour in the bathroom reading, barely ate anything because it was all chips and dip. Then I ate a sausage, and I got sick. Oooh was I sick.
For mother’s day, it was lovely. Rockstar hubby gave me a lovely gift card for chapters, gaffer got me body shop bergamont body ‘rinse’ (clean your armpits mommy, they’re stinky!) and the dog got me a set of salt and pepper shakers in the forms of cows. Cows that are so fat, their legs don’t touch the ground because they are sitting on their big pink udders. I love them. At church I got to teach, which involved me feeding them two boxes of crackers and tracing their hands onto paper and colouring them and framing them. Then we came home. A very nice friend gave me a bag of clothes which she didn’t want anymore. That made me happy. They were very new and very beautiful. It wasn’t like someone gave me some crappy castoffs that had missing buttons or holes in the jeans or were just so ugly they got rid of them. So I was tickled pink. Steak and salad supper and half way through ‘catch and release’.
I had an interesting conversation on Saturday with a lady and it super pissed me off. More than the weird relations argument. I was talking to her about kids. She asked me if we were having any more (can we please talk about something else?) and I said, I don’t know. Then I mentioned my huge heart for India. The girls. That maybe that’s where my extra kids will be.. and then I said that if we didn’t have any debt (student loans, cars etc) I’d be begging hubby to pack up with me and move to India to live there and work there. and this lady says, ‘well, it’s so awful over there.’ and I said, I know. And she says,’but it’s a poor country. It’s filthy’. And I said, I know. And she says, ‘but it’s disgusting! There is a garbage truck that comes by daily to pick up dead bodies’. And I’m like, hello? I know! What’s your point? And I almost snapped on her. I wanted to say, yes but what am I going to do? Live in a bubble, safe over here in Canada where no one can hurt me? I’ll just keep buying my tommy pull my finger clothes and buy a bigger house and have garden parties on my new deck? (incidentally I do have a few tommy sh irts but that’s because they were on sale at the salvation army) and I wanted to slap her. It doesn’t matter to me that it’s ugly and scary. I need to be loving little kids. I need to be spreading God’s love. Hello????
Then we got onto a conversation about homeschooling and private school. The gaffer might be going to a lovely private Christian school in the fall and we went to visit it on Thursday. I’m sorry to say that I found absolutely nothing wrong with it, so it makes the idea of homeschooling a lot more unclear. I expressed how I liked how the teachers were involved, that there was a no tolerance policy and they were strict. And I said how important it is to protect our kids for as long as we can, because we need to instill them with the confidence that comes from God, not from peers or the media. I read in dr. james dobson’s book, bringing up boys, that when his dad was a kid, he was severely bullied at school. The teachers would not get involved and nothing would be done so the grandfather picked up the family and moved. That is love. That is showing your kids how important they are. If gaffer was being picked on a lot at a place, I’d move him. keep him safe. I was severely bullied in school, and I was not protected at all. And it’s only by the grace of God that I am safe now. That I am not who I was. But how many people suffer from this? From awful schools? From bad teachers? So she got all, ‘oh the kids need to suck it up. they need to be in the real world to figure it out. ‘ and it made me soooo mad. Why do I keep having these conversations with people? How can someone knowingly send their kids to a school where they are not protected? To schools where there are mean kids, kids who bring guns to schools, who hurt people, who are not regulated? Sigh. I love my son so much that I would move across country for him if I had to/needed to. I think that not enough people put their families first and it makes me so sad.
Ok, I’m getting off the soapbox now.
Regardless.
So Friday I was in an awesomely happy mood. I spent the day by myself. I wrote two amazing chapters of my new book, then I went for a walk with our neurotic dog in the dog park, then picked up the gaffer to go home. Rockstar hubby finished early so I was very happy. Except we had to go to a family function at his house. With people who don’t talk to me. One family member in particular can’t talk to me. I’m ‘unapproachable’. I hate that. I hate being classified like that. Like when I helped organize bring 30 ladies out tree walking, one of them said, ‘oh be on time or she’ll freak out’. That’s not a nice thing to say. It reminds me of being told that to be near me, one has to walk on eggshells. That really cuts.
Regardless.
This family member of rockstar hubby’s, couldn’t tell me that they were angry that I told their child to stop being a tattletale.
Background:
Went to a family function. Gaffer was playing with two other children. One child (the tattletale), came up to me to tell me what gaffer had done wrong. So I went to check it out. Gaffer wasn’t really doing anything wrong. He was upset because the other two wouldn’t play with him. (and that always hurts a mom’s heart, turning her into bear cub mama, when other kids won’t play with her own child) so I said to the child tattletale, he just wants to play with you. Half an hour later, child tattletale comes up to me and says, ‘gaffer broke a necklace’ and I said, ‘so you’re tattling on him’. he said, ‘um, no.’ and the child’s mom was there and she rolled her eyes and said, ‘he’s going through a phase with being a tattletale, we’re working on it’. So I turn to him and say, ‘you know what? You don’t need to be a tattletale. If gaffer is doing something dangerous, then you can tell me, ok?’ and he leaves.
I find out two weeks later from rockstar hubby that the father of tattletale called him to say that when he got home, tattletale child was hiding under the table because he was afraid that daddy would be mad that he tattletaled. Apparently tattletale child was ‘traumatized’ by the event. And could I please not say that to their son anymore. That I need to respect their own parenting skills and to leave it alone.
Huh.
So yah, I got pissed. But for the right reasons. I was pissed off because he couldn’t tell me himself. I got pissed off because the kid’s mother was right there when I said it, and she agreed with me afterwards. I got pissed off because she wasn’t the one telling me that. I got pissed off because if someone is being bad, to my face, I am going to tell them. That’s how you parent with love. I didn’t tell him he had to play with gaffer, I didn’t tell him that he was being mean by excluding him (although I really wanted to), I told him he didn’t need to tattletale, to try and get gaffer in trouble so that gaffer would stop ‘bothering’’ them.
Psh…I didn’t think there would be family politics now. Sigh. Whatever. So at the family function, I spent half an hour in the bathroom reading, barely ate anything because it was all chips and dip. Then I ate a sausage, and I got sick. Oooh was I sick.
For mother’s day, it was lovely. Rockstar hubby gave me a lovely gift card for chapters, gaffer got me body shop bergamont body ‘rinse’ (clean your armpits mommy, they’re stinky!) and the dog got me a set of salt and pepper shakers in the forms of cows. Cows that are so fat, their legs don’t touch the ground because they are sitting on their big pink udders. I love them. At church I got to teach, which involved me feeding them two boxes of crackers and tracing their hands onto paper and colouring them and framing them. Then we came home. A very nice friend gave me a bag of clothes which she didn’t want anymore. That made me happy. They were very new and very beautiful. It wasn’t like someone gave me some crappy castoffs that had missing buttons or holes in the jeans or were just so ugly they got rid of them. So I was tickled pink. Steak and salad supper and half way through ‘catch and release’.
I had an interesting conversation on Saturday with a lady and it super pissed me off. More than the weird relations argument. I was talking to her about kids. She asked me if we were having any more (can we please talk about something else?) and I said, I don’t know. Then I mentioned my huge heart for India. The girls. That maybe that’s where my extra kids will be.. and then I said that if we didn’t have any debt (student loans, cars etc) I’d be begging hubby to pack up with me and move to India to live there and work there. and this lady says, ‘well, it’s so awful over there.’ and I said, I know. And she says,’but it’s a poor country. It’s filthy’. And I said, I know. And she says, ‘but it’s disgusting! There is a garbage truck that comes by daily to pick up dead bodies’. And I’m like, hello? I know! What’s your point? And I almost snapped on her. I wanted to say, yes but what am I going to do? Live in a bubble, safe over here in Canada where no one can hurt me? I’ll just keep buying my tommy pull my finger clothes and buy a bigger house and have garden parties on my new deck? (incidentally I do have a few tommy sh irts but that’s because they were on sale at the salvation army) and I wanted to slap her. It doesn’t matter to me that it’s ugly and scary. I need to be loving little kids. I need to be spreading God’s love. Hello????
Then we got onto a conversation about homeschooling and private school. The gaffer might be going to a lovely private Christian school in the fall and we went to visit it on Thursday. I’m sorry to say that I found absolutely nothing wrong with it, so it makes the idea of homeschooling a lot more unclear. I expressed how I liked how the teachers were involved, that there was a no tolerance policy and they were strict. And I said how important it is to protect our kids for as long as we can, because we need to instill them with the confidence that comes from God, not from peers or the media. I read in dr. james dobson’s book, bringing up boys, that when his dad was a kid, he was severely bullied at school. The teachers would not get involved and nothing would be done so the grandfather picked up the family and moved. That is love. That is showing your kids how important they are. If gaffer was being picked on a lot at a place, I’d move him. keep him safe. I was severely bullied in school, and I was not protected at all. And it’s only by the grace of God that I am safe now. That I am not who I was. But how many people suffer from this? From awful schools? From bad teachers? So she got all, ‘oh the kids need to suck it up. they need to be in the real world to figure it out. ‘ and it made me soooo mad. Why do I keep having these conversations with people? How can someone knowingly send their kids to a school where they are not protected? To schools where there are mean kids, kids who bring guns to schools, who hurt people, who are not regulated? Sigh. I love my son so much that I would move across country for him if I had to/needed to. I think that not enough people put their families first and it makes me so sad.
Ok, I’m getting off the soapbox now.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
laughter
God hints at His purpose for you by planting dreams within your heart. Sarah’s dream was to give birth to a son. Find a quiet place and spend some time focusing on your dreams. Ask yourself what dreams you’ve been too busy, too afraid, or too disappointed to pursue. Write them down and pray about each one. God may be telling you to wait, or he may be giving you the go-ahead to pursue one in particular. If it’s time to take the plunge, you might just find yourself joyfully echoing Sarah’s words: God has brought me laughter.
Huh. Dreams. Dreams that I’m too busy, too afraid or too disappointed to pursue. Well:
Write books: I want to write more kids books, a memoir, some teenager books and a romance novel. I want them to be Christian books. And I want them to be awesome, because there is just so much crap out there.
Write movies: I want to make a movie. I want to make a movie out of the memoir. I want to be in it. Which brings me to dream number 3.
Be in movies: I love acting. I love the stage. I love emoting and being someone else. Or parts of myself. When I watch a movie, I always pick out the character I want to play, or how I would do it better. Or different.
Travel: I’ve always wanted to travel. Sadly, I’ve only been to florida, cuba, dr, thunder bay. Oh and Winnipeg. But I don’t want to visit, I want to live there for a year or two. Explore the culture, learn new languages. Even though I forget everything.
India Orphanage: Dr.Job’s orphanage. I want to go and see those girls. Those poor girls with martyred parents. I want to live there, to love them, to be a mom to them. How does that make sense?
I don’t know if I want to do mission trips. I want to live there. make the difference there. rockstar hubby and I have talked about doing lots of disaster relief trips once we’re retired because then we have the time and the money. But…but.
I just want laughter.
Huh. Dreams. Dreams that I’m too busy, too afraid or too disappointed to pursue. Well:
Write books: I want to write more kids books, a memoir, some teenager books and a romance novel. I want them to be Christian books. And I want them to be awesome, because there is just so much crap out there.
Write movies: I want to make a movie. I want to make a movie out of the memoir. I want to be in it. Which brings me to dream number 3.
Be in movies: I love acting. I love the stage. I love emoting and being someone else. Or parts of myself. When I watch a movie, I always pick out the character I want to play, or how I would do it better. Or different.
Travel: I’ve always wanted to travel. Sadly, I’ve only been to florida, cuba, dr, thunder bay. Oh and Winnipeg. But I don’t want to visit, I want to live there for a year or two. Explore the culture, learn new languages. Even though I forget everything.
India Orphanage: Dr.Job’s orphanage. I want to go and see those girls. Those poor girls with martyred parents. I want to live there, to love them, to be a mom to them. How does that make sense?
I don’t know if I want to do mission trips. I want to live there. make the difference there. rockstar hubby and I have talked about doing lots of disaster relief trips once we’re retired because then we have the time and the money. But…but.
I just want laughter.
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
duvet hiding
today is a good day to hide under the duvet.
so i did. for 5 minutes. while rockstar hubby bbq'd salmon and gaffer watched, wearing his yellow rainboots.
i lay there, duvet over my head, just my eyes peeking out as i played with a hairclasp, watching it open and close. snap. snap. snap.
i actually got weepy listening to eminem on the radio today. i think the song is called 'one shot'. about this kid wanting to achieve his dreams. doing his best. failing. forgetting the words. etc. i got weepy. thankfully they took out the swear words or i would have been really confused.
funk.
funk.
funkity
funk.
so i did. for 5 minutes. while rockstar hubby bbq'd salmon and gaffer watched, wearing his yellow rainboots.
i lay there, duvet over my head, just my eyes peeking out as i played with a hairclasp, watching it open and close. snap. snap. snap.
i actually got weepy listening to eminem on the radio today. i think the song is called 'one shot'. about this kid wanting to achieve his dreams. doing his best. failing. forgetting the words. etc. i got weepy. thankfully they took out the swear words or i would have been really confused.
funk.
funk.
funkity
funk.
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
storytime!!! Bruce the Vegan Lion
Once in a dark forest, there was a lion named Bruce. Bruce was not just any lion, Bruce was a vegan lion. Now, I know it sounds absolutely ridiculous to have a lion named Bruce, but Bruce's mother could not be reached for comments. And his father ate the reporter, so we decided to just ask Bruce himself, once we could get close enough.
Anyways, Bruce believed that harming animals in any method was morally wrong and Bruce had lots of morals. Unfortunately, Bruce was aschewed by his peers, so Bruce moved to the city.
Bruce didn't really like the city. But he got a job at Environmentalists R Us and was forced to have his teeth filed down. His coworkers were a littler nervous around him and that did not go over well with public relations.
Bruce was an active environmentalist. He was able to get many people to see the errors of their ways. People stopped eating meat products, violence ended, equality was reached with men and womyn (typo that Bruce fixed), people recycled, composted, and found new ways to run machinery on banana peels and coke (not Pepsi). The world was becoming a better place.
Unfortunately because all of my stories end with the main character dying no matter how wonderful they are, Bruce was kidnapped by corrupt politicians (as if they aren't all corrupt as it is!) and dipped him into a vat of melted recycled plastics.
However the writer and many others believe Bruce's spirit lives on throughout the word whether by a young child throwing his coke (not pepsi) can into a recycling bin or by a veal farmer keeping all of his cows as pets.
Anyways, Bruce believed that harming animals in any method was morally wrong and Bruce had lots of morals. Unfortunately, Bruce was aschewed by his peers, so Bruce moved to the city.
Bruce didn't really like the city. But he got a job at Environmentalists R Us and was forced to have his teeth filed down. His coworkers were a littler nervous around him and that did not go over well with public relations.
Bruce was an active environmentalist. He was able to get many people to see the errors of their ways. People stopped eating meat products, violence ended, equality was reached with men and womyn (typo that Bruce fixed), people recycled, composted, and found new ways to run machinery on banana peels and coke (not Pepsi). The world was becoming a better place.
Unfortunately because all of my stories end with the main character dying no matter how wonderful they are, Bruce was kidnapped by corrupt politicians (as if they aren't all corrupt as it is!) and dipped him into a vat of melted recycled plastics.
However the writer and many others believe Bruce's spirit lives on throughout the word whether by a young child throwing his coke (not pepsi) can into a recycling bin or by a veal farmer keeping all of his cows as pets.
Monday, May 5, 2008
bright lights...
hmmm....so i managed to lose the camera on tuesday at swimming. i was so excited watching the gaffer float on his back while trying not to kick instructor in the face that i could not remember what i did with it. my heart was wrenched in sorrow as i thought i had lost it. pics of gaffer running around, pics of gaffer running around naked (ohno! child porn!) and gaffer singing solo at Christmas pageant. lo and behold when i opened his napsack to stuff in treats, there it was. duh. why would i check the bag that i took to swimming? that would just make sense.
so today i got hooked up to a 24 hour heart rate monitor thingy. so i have 7 wires going from all over my chest and one under my armpit, attached to a long gray wire (about 5' long), attached to a gray cell phone looking thing. i'm supposed to wear it on my belt (???) or in my pocket. it's so attractive. i had to put on a very loose shirt as i look like i'm a freak with all the wires crossing under my shirt. putting on bra was especially tricky. i was told to go work out, so i did. but i'm not allowed to shower. hmmm..am very very sticky and stinky. not impressed. managed to remove gaffer's hands before they pulled them all off.
am registering for guelph conference tonight. rockstar hubby, being the rockstar he is, managed to put 200$ in the guelph fund coffee can today and said, 'do it'. so, by faith, we will get the money for me to go, and by faith, i will find a publisher/editor for my fabulous book which will, in my own dream, bring at least one person to Christ. then it was all worth it.
am waiting for strange tofu lasagne thing in oven to cook, and gaffer's chicken nuggets, as i listen to loud thumping against the walls in the basement from an indoor hockey game. i sigh. if anything breaks, he'll fix it.
am on new...er, diet. except it's not a diet. am resolved to lose 15 pounds. am tired of being tired and having sore knees. so i'm on the g.i. diet which is glycemic something or other diet. so now i'm eating tofu, less calories, and sweetener, which i do not agree with at all, and it tastes like ca-ca, but i'll suck it up. i'm even going to give up ..gasp.. my venti soy no water no foam tazo chai. i'm going to start that part next week. i figured eating tofu was a shock enough to the system, i wont' hurt my poor body by force feeding some kind of decaf, soy, sucralose sweetened vanilla latte. i wish i liked hazelnut. but i don't.
am reading fabulous new book. can't stop laughing out loud. it's called 'bright lights, big a##' by jen lancaster. seriously? cannot stop laughing. laughed beside math teacher at chapters...he put in his headphones. here is an exerpt, discussing ikea.
"it has special escalators for your cart to ride down next to you. there are also giant multilanguage signs in front of it saying:
do not put your baby stroller on here you dumbass because it's a conveyor belt and you don't put your baby on a conveyor and exactly how stupid are you that we have to repeat this ten times and with a picture of a baby stoller with a slash through it and how did you not notice this same sign pointing to the safe safe elevator ten feet away?"
i almost peed.
so today i got hooked up to a 24 hour heart rate monitor thingy. so i have 7 wires going from all over my chest and one under my armpit, attached to a long gray wire (about 5' long), attached to a gray cell phone looking thing. i'm supposed to wear it on my belt (???) or in my pocket. it's so attractive. i had to put on a very loose shirt as i look like i'm a freak with all the wires crossing under my shirt. putting on bra was especially tricky. i was told to go work out, so i did. but i'm not allowed to shower. hmmm..am very very sticky and stinky. not impressed. managed to remove gaffer's hands before they pulled them all off.
am registering for guelph conference tonight. rockstar hubby, being the rockstar he is, managed to put 200$ in the guelph fund coffee can today and said, 'do it'. so, by faith, we will get the money for me to go, and by faith, i will find a publisher/editor for my fabulous book which will, in my own dream, bring at least one person to Christ. then it was all worth it.
am waiting for strange tofu lasagne thing in oven to cook, and gaffer's chicken nuggets, as i listen to loud thumping against the walls in the basement from an indoor hockey game. i sigh. if anything breaks, he'll fix it.
am on new...er, diet. except it's not a diet. am resolved to lose 15 pounds. am tired of being tired and having sore knees. so i'm on the g.i. diet which is glycemic something or other diet. so now i'm eating tofu, less calories, and sweetener, which i do not agree with at all, and it tastes like ca-ca, but i'll suck it up. i'm even going to give up ..gasp.. my venti soy no water no foam tazo chai. i'm going to start that part next week. i figured eating tofu was a shock enough to the system, i wont' hurt my poor body by force feeding some kind of decaf, soy, sucralose sweetened vanilla latte. i wish i liked hazelnut. but i don't.
am reading fabulous new book. can't stop laughing out loud. it's called 'bright lights, big a##' by jen lancaster. seriously? cannot stop laughing. laughed beside math teacher at chapters...he put in his headphones. here is an exerpt, discussing ikea.
"it has special escalators for your cart to ride down next to you. there are also giant multilanguage signs in front of it saying:
do not put your baby stroller on here you dumbass because it's a conveyor belt and you don't put your baby on a conveyor and exactly how stupid are you that we have to repeat this ten times and with a picture of a baby stoller with a slash through it and how did you not notice this same sign pointing to the safe safe elevator ten feet away?"
i almost peed.
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