My brain hurts May 6, 2011

This is pretty much what my day looked like yesterday:

It’s weird how you can’t see this on the map, but add in one (shockingly cooperative) four-year old, a FINALLY successful trip to the DMV (third time’s a charm, apparently), my attempt to be gracious in the face of being told I forgot ONE piece of documentation I needed for another errand despite having miraculously located the other 10 obscure documents needed for said errand, and one very lovely mother who saved me from yet another childcare emergency (read: Recurring Theme of the Month of May) by offering to keep Baby Girl overnight. I’m wearing too many hats at the moment, and I think she sensed I might think such a suggestion was GENIUS. She was correct.

The random journey north of town yielded two things I love:

1. I traded in my dad’s Tahoe (because, you know, gas isn’t $4 a gallon or anything) for my old Camry. He’s a mechanical genius and got it going again after all this time. I know this is ridiculous because the car is flipping 18 years old and is worth nothing, but it drives SO WELL (except that one time it left me on the side of I-80 just outside of Chicago, of course). I’m not brand loyal, but I think I’ve already decided that my next car is going to be a Camry for sure. I mean, if I’m so impressed by THIS version, can you imagine what the ones that are only TEN years old are like??? Haha at myself. Maybe one day I’ll be independently wealthy and can drive a new (ish) car (just think how CLEAN it would be!), but as long as it starts when I turn the key, I’m pretty much good.

2. I had the opportunity to catch tadpoles with Baby Girl. She’s very good at this, I’ll have you know. As we were doing this, I realized I’m really failing in teaching this girl some basic skills: creek playing, tadpole catching, rabbit-chasing…I need to get her out of the suburbs more and get her on a pony or something.

Also, I was able to steal some pictures of myself as a four year old to scan for you, so it was worth the drive. Get ready for some hilarious comparison pics of me and my mini-me. Genetics: you can’t escape ‘em.

Another way we are not so smart, my Thursday Edition April 14, 2011

This excellent article starts out talking about Farmville and you’ll think it’s time to click away to any other website in the universe, but stick with it. It’s totally worth it, I swear.

See? Procrastination DOES pay. March 28, 2011

I knew that if we put off mowing the lawn long enough, some enterprising young man would come knocking on the door asking to do it for us.

And I was right!

For the record, I actually like mowing the lawn. Well, I like it as long as we have the type of tiny lawn we’ve always had. “Mowing the lawn” growing up involved a John Deere, a bushhog trailer, and ALL DAY LONG. Oh, and no pay. Different story. However, we sold the lawn mower before the move to Iowa, and we hadn’t needed one again until now. Lawnmower shopping hadn’t made it to the top of the to-do list, what with all the ugly dresser painting and the not thinking about it.

So this sweet preteen boy knocked on the door and gave the most polite salespitch I’ve ever heard. He had a clipboard and flyers and a SPREADSHEET, for the love. A boy after my own heart, he is. He scheduled a time, called the day before to confirm (leaving a voicemail that also showcased some stellar telephone manners, I might add), and showed up right on time today to get started.

It’s just refreshing to see a kid with great manners, speaking well and making the connection between WORK and MONEY. Maybe I’m romanticizing, but whatever. He may quit tomorrow or run the mower into the side of the house. I was mucking out stalls at his age, so I can relate and plan to pass that same work-money correlation down to Baby Girl (poor thing). Novel concept. As I remember it, I announced to my parents that I wanted a horse, so they marched my happy little 12-year-old self down to the neighbors’ horse boarding facility, made arrangements for me to clean out stalls and run horses for as long as it would take to earn enough money for a horse (turns out, that’s a LOT–though I’m sure they kicked in more than I ever knew into my little bank account), and put in so many hours riding a borrowed horse so I could prove I was serious (and also that little detail of learning how to ride, which I did not in fact know how to do when I announced a wanted a horse). So that’s pretty much how that went. I went every day before and after school, eventually got my own horse (and continued to work there to help pay for the board/care–I can still tell you how much the feed and shoes cost and how often), and was quite the little cowgirl for about four years–up until I discovered boys and decided to take a break from horses that turned into a permanent one. I also got slammed into a fence and messed up my shoulder something good right around that time, and that might have been part of my dumb decision to not stick with it.

Anyway, I’m getting old because I’m all misty-eyed over this little boy going out and earning some money in the summer. And apparently that makes me tell horse stories. Her name was Sierra. I still have dreams about that barn.

Good grief, random stories.

You’re very welcome. Have a good evening!

I wonder if he knows about the 13 year cicadas. As he appears to be about 13, I’d say no. He may very well quit.

What’s your summer song? March 12, 2011

We’re having the first sunny day in quite a while here in Nashville, and I am now officially OVER the gray and ready for flipflops and car windows down. Bring it.

Please.

When this song came up in my car playlist the other day, I found myself hitting repeat because it just made me feel happy to crank it up and sing along, white-girl car-dancing and all. I make sure it’s the last song I hear before I get out of the car and head into work.  There’s just something about the silly little techno beat and the way you can hear the sound of fingers sliding along the guitar strings in the verses (I love it when that sound is prominent in recordings–I’m sure there’s a technical term for it, right?). I have no idea why, as the lyrics are totally dark and nonsensical, but this is my current warmer-weather-is-coming, get-thee-to-a-beach song:

Also, it’s from 2005. I’m nothing if not current.

Long Day Tuesday March 8, 2011

“Due to circumstances beyond my control…” — Michael
“…impulsivity and inattention to detail…” — Dwight

That may be my very favorite side-comment/interruption on The Office ever.

Anyway, that’s not what I came to say. That has nothing to do with anything other than I like it.

I came to say:

• I won’t, but I wish I could vent about my day here without A. Sounding like I’m complaining about a role I’m very grateful to have and B. Discussing things that have no business here. Sometimes, I collapse into my car completely drained of all human emotion. Makes me an enjoyable dinner companion, I’m SURE. You’re welcome, Andrew.
• Tonight, I registered my baby for Kindergarten. Hold me.
• We took her on a tour around the school (I used to work there and it’s humongous). When we passed by the gym, she asked, “Oh! Is that where we’ll go to scream?”
• Colin Hay. Gosh, I just adore this guy. Sweet friend Brian reserved a table for us, so we actually got to sit comfortably (3rd and Lindsley can be a crush on a night with a popular artist). I will say, he’s MUCH funnier when he’s not on live radio. And then, just to torture me, this guy  is there the next Sunday night. I don’t think I can skip out two Sunday nights in a row, so I’ll have to be content to listen on Lightning 100.

• BG is obsessed with the movie Tangled. Her current favorite activity is tying long things (almost anything will do) to her ponytail, carrying around a small frying pan, and talking to her imaginary chameleon. She will walk around the house for an entire day trailing this behind her:

 

• And y’all: I totally commissioned art! Classy. I saw this pretty mass-produced canvas at World Market (you know, where they keep all the things I love and wish I could buy), but it was quite small and WAY more than I would spend anyway. However, I have a thing for doors and took a picture so I could mull it over.

I showed it to my VERY talented friend Jennifer around Christmas, and (sort of) joked that she could paint one for me. I really was mostly joking, though everything she paints/draws/creates is beautiful. Well, she just brought me this:

How cool is THAT?

Things unrelated February 8, 2011

               Oh! Do not attack me with your watch. A watch is always too fast or too slow. I cannot be dictated to by a watch.

                                                                        -Jane Austen, Mansfield Park

I love that.

All of the following items have one thing in common:

I’m typing them in the same list.

That is all. It’s really the bullet points that pull it all together, in my opinion. LIKE MAGIC. I’m satisfied with merely the illusion of cohesion.

• I never have enough time. Also, I do realize that every other person on the planet has this very same problem. Helps me zero!
• You know that thing you’ve been looking everywhere for? I found it. It was in my car. I just cleaned it all out, and whatever you need, I promise it was in there. Come on by and see for yourself. I’ve done all I can do.
• We are the proud owners of a booster seat for Baby Girl. Apparently, the kids these days need LED lights mounted into the headrests. I can’t help thinking we’re going to have a hard time convincing these little people to get jobs and work hard one day if we keep giving them all this cool stuff right out of the playpen.
• Speaking of, I was watching Baby Girl try out her new booster carseat, and I got this lump in my throat over how fast she’s growing up (not typical Vanessa, by any stretch of the imagination). I sort of wallowed around in that while I made her dinner, but she fixed my wagon. She came to me, sobbing hysterically, about ten minutes later. She couldn’t tell me what was wrong; she was just SAD. She wanted me to hold her (gasp!) and just love on her. So, we sat on the nearest steps and rocked and rocked until she felt better. Every once in a while, that long-legged colt of a smart-mouthed mini-teenager is still my baby. True to form, when she was ready, she bolted right up and asked me to help her find a hammer so she could turn the box the carseat came in into a pirate ship. In case you’re wondering, I did not grant that request. Just for the record. The last thing this kid needs is a hammer.
• Work. Totally overwhelming. The end.
• In response to that one–I’m afraid the creation of Netflix Instant is about to start making up for all the television I’ve not watched in about four years. I’m very impressed with the INSTANT. Right up my alley.
• Lastly, I have a crafting/creating bug going, but no ideas about what to do with it. I want to strip/paint a dresser, build a bookshelf, ignore everything and hyperfocus on some intricate stencil or cutting out something tiny…just something. I pretty much abhor the pointlessness that is Valentine’s Day (my husband is one of the lucky few whose wife actually means it when she says we don’t have to celebrate, really), but the cutesy DIY blogs are getting to me. I need to figure out how to make a knock-off of this (because no way is Pottery Barn getting that much of my money):

(Oops. Someone already did. Cool!)

Or make this.

Or this.

Or these.

Or this.

Apparently, I’ll be digging though my packed books tonight to find some Jane Austen. It’s that kind of mood. Who knew?

Good night, friends. Sweet dreams.

What we used to call winter December 19, 2010

Andrew and I have been laughing because we can barely bring ourselves to put on our coats, even though everyone around us is complaining about the temperatures. I think one Iowa winter ruined us–Tennessee is never going to seem cold again! I keep forgetting to put a coat/hat on Baby Girl because I’m just not cold (good thing she’s hot natured, while I seem to have reptile blood most of the time).

Just a few thoughts on winter activities so far:

1. If you want your child to hate candy, give her some decorations from one of those gingerbread house kits. I promise she won’t ask again. I think those gumdrops are older than I am. However, that did take two afternoons because BG has very specific gingerbread-related architectural ideas.

2. My sister and I spent several evenings making a cardboard kitchen out of duct tape and moving boxes. Both of us got embarrassingly irritated when Baby Girl wanted to help or play with it before it was done. We did eventually relent and let her go to town with some tape. More on this next, but I found one of BG’s cousins curled inside the oven yesterday at family Christmas. CUTE.

3. We did get snow. Tennessee snow. I tried to take a picture of the house that showed it, then cropped out the part that shows the sidewalk isn’t even covered. It did get us a day off school due to ice on the roads, which totally ruined my work agenda for the week before holiday break. True to form, BG (after declaring she wanted to “build the biggest snowman in the wide world!”) attempted one snowball and asked to go back inside. I chuckled when I saw the sled and snow shovel sitting all lonely in the garage.

Only three things? I guess so.

Personality type and other time wasters November 23, 2010

I kept a good friend busy today with this little gem of a personality test. As internet tests go, I’d say it’s actually pretty on-par with the real (more arduous/clinical) deal.

I found it more time-efficient to just tell my friend, “Look–The person you’re dealing with is _____,  so don’t waste your breath or your brain cells” rather than to try to explain why I think that. Why reinvent the wheel, right?

Of course, after I refreshed myself on MY personality type, that’s precisely what “we” do. Can’t escape type.

Go ahead, over-analyze yourself! It’s fun!

However, I do not authorize you to try to guess the motives and personality tendencies of the person you’re trying to deconstruct and take the quiz as him/her so that you can figure out what in the world THAT PERSON is thinking. I’m pretty sure that won’t work. And I’ m pretty sure that’s what my friend will do. And I love her for that.

What’s your type?

Just for kicks, here‘s where I always come up. It’s mostly right, much to my chagrin.

Just some things November 7, 2010

Sorry, blog buddies. I was in a mood.

MOODS. I was in moods.

I still am, but I thought I should probably update anyway. How else would any of you manage to get through the black hole of despair that is Monday morning?

I kid. My dramatic flair is acting up again.

If you’re waiting for posts from me with bated breath, you’re probably disappointed with the random schedule I keep. I’ll try to be better, and I will fail. I do feel an abstract sort of bad when I see how many visitors are coming here to see A Big Fat Nothing New. Oh, well. Life is short, friends.

So…October. Was that really just last month? Here’s what I can gather happened, based on my photo archive:

1. Jimmy Eat World in Columbus, OH. This is one my very favorite bands, even though they did not perform my very favorite song. We drove the five hours from Nashville, crashed with old friends Brannon and Gloria, and (of course) ran into more Nashville friends at the show. They were so, so good. I should really be writing a music column.  Can you imagine the stunning imagery I would create with my reviews? Anyway.

You know what was stunning? The fact that I was totally distracted throughout the entire concert by the bartender across the way who was building what I can only describe as a towering maze of clear plastic cups. He was using the entire bar (not sure why he was just hanging out there, as his bar clearly was closed). By the end, he had used at least 100 cups and had them all balanced precisely in this intricate pattern…I’d upload the fuzzy photo I took of this phenomenon when I should have been paying attention to, you know, THE BAND I paid money to see, but you’d die from all the boredom and I’d have no blog readers.

  2. Halloween at the Nashville Zoo

I’ve forgotten all the words associated with this one, but it was lots of fun (in a loud, Chuck E Cheese sort of way). I was mocked for not having a costume, and no one seemed to appreciate that “But I’m a grownup!” WAS a totally reasonable explanation.

 3. Early Thanksgiving dinner with Tim’s family

Tim was home on leave (can’t talk about it or I’ll cry), and we (SURPRISE!) made a meal of it. Please enjoy the blurriest photos I have ever posted on my blog.

You should know that Tim’s sweet mama loves to give people things they can use. She’s a scavenger and a bargainer. In a secondary list that no one but me would probably find amusing, here are the things in my bag when I left her house:

• the CORRECT pumpkin-shaped flower girl basket that Baby Girl has been complaining about since Tim and Heather’s wedding last October 18th. She accidentally switched baskets with the other girl after the wedding, and we have never heard the end of it. I am so glad to end THAT saga!

(You see that baby almost-chub on her arms and cheeks? In the last year, that is GONE. She’s definitely all GIRL now, not baby. Sniff.) 

• camo-print earmuffs
• a glowstick
• two large bags of jalapeno and green peppers from the garden
• a pair of white men’s tennis shoes (to be used for mowing the lawn next summer)
• and a Fur Real cat that could not possibly remind me more of the cat from Pet Sementary. Y’all–it hates me and I swear it watches me when Baby Girl is not around. Creepy.

The next batch of titillating information will have to wait. I need to go mentally prepare for Migraine Monday.

Good night! I hope you sleep better than I did last night. I remembered to reset the clocks but neglected to reset my KID. As my friend Lori said: Hello sunrise!

Oh my grief. October 7, 2010

That is Baby Girl’s newest “expletive.” Yeah, I’ll take that for now!

I want to write but can’t quite form any meaningful sentences (at least nothing I’m willing to plaster all over the internets). I guess that means I probably would be wise to just be quiet.

Oh.

I’ve never been especially good at that. When have I ever let having nothing to say keep me from talking?

Never, that’s when.

So, in typical bullet form, here are some randoms floating around in my head:

• Thursdays are my favorite days most of the time. I get to have a slow-start morning, drink a cup of coffee before it gets cold (probably), and make my list of things that need to get done Thursday/Friday without feeling like it all has to be done rightthisminute.
• Instead of working at my regular school, I spent three days this week in a training with special ed teachers and another psych. As much as I complain about training (it takes serious effort for me to tune in no matter how fascinating the topic, which is why I often end up volunteering/getting volunteered to BE the trainer if I know enough to do so :)), it really does give me a fresh perspective and energy. I get so bogged down in the details of what I do, and I start fantasizing about looking for something a lot more clinical/therapeutic-based. Or, you know, becoming an accountant or a writer or a waitress or something–it’s a wide swing. Having a few days of academic-type interactions gives me the ability to not melt into a puddle of stress when I see the BOX of files I brought home from my (did I mention) only part-time job. Sometimes waiting tables sounds pretty good. I could do that.
• I foresee a lot of time spent at the Transmission Shop of Dad in the very near future.
• I am no longer blond (for the time being). I totally forgot how much fun it is to have a different hair color. My dad is going to HATE it. I get a tattoo and he just tells me it’s fine but for-the-love please tell my little sister it hurt like nothing else, but he gets all bent out of shape when I cut or color my hair. Weird.
• Did I forget to mention the tattoo? Ah, yes. It took six minutes and I still had to stop halfway through and try desperately hard not to pass out. Two little words on the inside of my wrist. Just what I needed, nothing more–a battle scar of sorts. The tattoo guy (“The Viking.” Seriously.) was, God bless him, trying his very best not to laugh at me. He failed, but I totally forgive him because of the whole only six minutes thing.
• Baby Girl is upset with me this morning because I don’t know how to make a paper airplane. I didn’t actually realize I don’t possess this ability AT ALL, but I truly don’t. I should have paid better attention in middle school when this skill was being mastered by my peers. I’m sure I was looking at the boys, but not for purposes of learning paper-folding techniques. Her unabashed disappointment in me is the same sigh she uses when she wants me to make her train tracks into a figure 8 and I just can’t do it. I just want to say, “Baby, if you want me to write you an original epic fairy tale with amazing historical cross references, I am all about it and can do that JUST FOR YOU because I love you forever, but your mama has zero visual-spatial skills. Take it up with my brain.”
• I can’t believe I have enough musical excitement to have a bullet point for it, but: road tripping for Jimmy Eat World in Columbus, OH this weekend (can hardly CONTAIN myself), Ben Folds with the Nashville Symphony in November (my sweet husband decided to ignore the screaming budget and my repeated insistence that it was too expensive–even though it IS), and a pretty-sure report that Colin Hay is playing the Sunday night Lightning 100 show at 3rd & Lindsley in March. I freaking love this city.
• I’m in a cooking club. Someone may have even called it a GOURMET cooking club. Surely she was mistaken (either in calling it that or inviting me). If you’re not laughing at the idea of me doing this, you don’t get it. I’m simply viewing it as a chance to wear a little extra makeup, chat with friends during the hours normally consumed with bath/bedtime stories/preschool witching hour behaviors, and eat things with fancy cheese on them.
• And I know it isn’t a blog from me unless it smacks of a therapy session just a little bit, but I’ve been sitting here long enough (and I didn’t upload any of last month’s photos for this silly blog, which is what I sat down to do in the first place). I’ll save my overwhelming run-down of preoccupations for another day.