Back from the Dead

Over a week ago, my computer charger decided to crap out on me.  And rather than spend another $80 on a new charger as we have twice before over the past year...I decided to spend $15 on eBay for a new one.  But then I had to wait for it.  Until a couple days ago, my only access to the Internet was through my iPod Touch.  It was a sad, tedious existence that I lived during that entire week and I'm glad to be back.

I see that I have lost one follower during my absence.  To those of you who remain, I thank you.  I thank you for never giving up on me and keeping vigil for my return.  Since I know you all must have missed me terribly.  You now have my permission to resume happiness in your lives.

Surprisingly, nothing dreadfully exciting happened while I was away living my partially unconnected life.  But I have an idea for a blog post that I'll be working on (and hopefully publishing) tonight, so check back later!

Love,
Rachel

Editorial Retraction

 In my last post, I referred to my new e-friend as "Awkward".  Said friend has corrected my mistake, and will now go by "Mr. Awkward", or rather, "Mr. Wow".

I Love Hotels, Lost, and Beer.

I drove two hours to Chicopee, Massachusetts yesterday evening to spend a little kid-free time with my husband, who is away for the week for Air Force Reserve drills.  The military puts him up in a Hampton Inn when he's called away, so we spent the night out at dinner, then snuggled and watched Family Guy on the HD TV while playing Jenga and drinking beers for about 3 hours before he passed out.  I layed in bed and started a book my new e-friend "Awkward" recommended to me called City of Thieves (which I am thoroughly enjoying so far). When it was 1:30AM and very much so time to pass out, I ended up heading over to the second queen bed...because my husband is a selfish, evil bed stealer and always makes his way into the very center of the mattress.  I'm somebody who needs a lot of room to myself when I'm trying to sleep.  I love to cuddle when I'm awake, but when I'm trying to sleep I need my own space so GTFO.

The ride home today was pretty uneventful...other than the time when I was coming off one highway to switch to another and to my dismay there was only about 300 feet before the entrance to the next highway, and whoever designed those roads decided that that amount of notice was sufficient to clear 4 lanes of highway to get to the other side and onto the ramp in time.  I cleared 3/4, and was trying to make my move onto the ramp when this deep red SUV took its time and didn't speed up or slow down to let me in, and they went happily on their way onto the next highway while I helplessly continued on the same one until I could get off and turn around.  Before we departed completely though, the strong urge to flip off the other driver consumed me.  But then I realized that it wasn't entirely their fault.  They were, afterall, driving a reasonable speed and it wouldn't be fair of me to expect them to slam on their brakes to let me in ahead of them.  They probably weren't the idiot engineers who designed the road.  So instead, I stared the driver down and shook my fist at him.  He stared back for a moment with his lips slightly parted and his face frozen in shock.

When I was about an hour away from home, I noticed a car parked on the side of the highway with its emergency blinkers on.  Beside it, was a man (or a short haired woman) kneeling before two crosses with huge displays of flowers...the one on the left was a smaller cross, and had a teddy bear placed lovingly beside it.  "Oh, God.  Oh, my God."  I said to myself aloud, "That's so sad."  And then I started crying.  Which is not a great thing to do when you're flying down the highway at 75 miles per hour.  And then I changed the song on my iPod, because I quickly decided that "I Like to F*ck" by Tila Tequila and Hot Rod was grotesquely inappropriate for the situation. 

I arrived back in town and swung by the drive-through liquor store (a blessing from God, I say) for a 6 pack of Miller Light to enjoy during Lost tonight (and also to drown away my lonliness).  The young gentleman at the register was a Tom Green look-a-like that I recognized because on my birthday I had gone in to buy some spirits and he remarked that it was his birthday too, and did I know that October 5th is the most common birthday in the world?  Indeed, I did not.  And when I got home, I Googled it, because my husband said the guy only said that because he was hitting on me.  Well, it turns out that it's a true fact.  It's speculated that Oct. 5th is the most common day for babies to be born, because it's approximately 40 weeks after New Years.  So I suppose we all can guess when and why I came into existence.

The employee looked at my identification and said "Oh my God!...that's my birthday..." "I know," I interrupted, "you were the one who told me our birthday is the most common in the world.  I went home and Googled it, and you're right!"  Then he said how he knows 6 people that share our special day, and I said I knew none.  "Well...now you do." he said as he smiled and handed me my receipt.

Lost and Found

My husband is constantly losing or forgetting things.  And I don't mean that this happens occasionally, it's as if he perpetually suffers from a chronic case of early onset Alzheimer's.  So when I got a phone call from him at 5AM this morning, I wasn't the least bit surprised.  He had forgotten his military ID after he was already 45 minutes into his 2 hour drive to Air Force Reserve drill.  Not only had he forgotten it, but he had no idea where he had put it.  The other day he had taken it out of his wallet to go on the nearby Navy base to use the gym.  Thankfully, I found it almost instantly, on top of the TV in our bedroom.

Since this type of thing typically happens several times per week, I've become so accustomed to searching for things that I normally just crack a joke about how I honestly have no idea how he ever made it through life before he had me to help him find his shit.  But at 5 o'clock in the morning, I'm a little less amused by his antics.  Also when, a couple weeks ago, he was frantically searching for his shoe polish and recruited my help while LOST was on (which is really the only time every week when I demand silence and complete avoidance of distractions).  Oh, the cruel irony.

The worst part about that was that I was constantly moving his shoe polishing kit up into his closet.  He had been leaving it behind a bookshelf in our room, and everytime I moved it I nagged that he really needed to keep it up...in case one of the kids finds it and gets into it.  Well, guess who was right?  Men, this is exactly why you must listen to your women. 

He forgets things so often, that I told him that I'm going to have a custom notepad made for him.  You know those pre-printed shopping checklists that you can buy, the ones that have food items that nearly everybody regularly purchases on routine stops at the supermarket...eggs, milk, bread?  Well, I plan on having something similar printed for him, except that every page will have a list of everything he needs to bring with him daily to work.  Radio, gun, cuffs, badge, etc.  I wasn't fully joking.  I am seeing a serious need for this. 

I just don't understand it!  It's not that our home is a mess, or that he's disorganized or irresponsible.  After being in the military for six years, he's developed some nearly OCD habits when it comes to his possessions.  He's always had a little box that he keeps in his closet on the shelf where he puts his small but important things.  But sometimes, he sets things down somewhere without thinking about it...and then, it's either gone forever or at least until I can find it for him.  He's lucky that I'm always pretty good at finding stuff.

It's even a little fun sometimes.  There's nothing like searching for something, and the thrill you get when you finally find it.  It's a little adrenaline rush:  some people need to go skydiving to get their kicks...but for now, I'll just stick to random routine find-the-lost-thing hunts around the house.

Bourse.

My husband has two things that he is constantly nagging me about:  my purse, and my iPod.  He hates my iPod because some days I spend more time with it than I do with him.  I love to blast my music while I'm cleaning, or cooking...before I put in my earphones I always tell him that I'm unavailable and if he needs me then he will have to tap me on the shoulder because I can't hear a thing outside of my own musical world.  It's my way of taking a break from the kids, and sometimes him, while not physically leaving the house.  I also like to use the Kindle app to read in bed (since my Kindle is not backlit), and I play word games on it.  Not gonna lie, I do some farming too (Tap Farm and Zombie Farm).

So anyway, I was tagged by Shahirah at Colours of my Life to reveal the contents of my purse.  Truth be told, I'm not even sure what's in my bag right now.  My purse is kind of like a sinkhole, things go in and sometimes they never return.  It often takes me 10 minutes of digging before I can find what I'm looking for in it, unless I dump out the entire thing.  My husband hates my purse because he has an even more difficult time finding things.  If he asks where something is and I reply "Oh, it's in my purse", I'm entertained with that look of dread on his face...fear in his eyes, and a groan coming from his mouth.

So, if you really want to see this, read on.  The pictures suck and I took them with the items on top of a clean, but wrinkled pillow case.  Deal with it!

 These are coins in a ziplock bag that the Coinstar machine rejected the other day.  I took Teagan to go cash in her money jar because she wanted to buy a Nintendo DS Lite with all of the coins she's saved over the years.  These coins include some foreign currency as well as some old silver quarters.

 

My beloved Kindle.  It has this snazzy case to keep it safe in my bag.  If I didn't have the case, the Kindle would be stained with makeup like almost everything else in there...thanks to a rogue eyeshadow palette that escaped from my makeup bag and got all over everything.

Makeup bag.  Not much to see here.  I've got the usual mascara, eyeshadow, lip gloss, etc in there.

 Random craft supplies.  Scissors and some baby blue lace.  I tend to throw things in my bag that I don't want the kids messing with, so there can be some really weird things in there sometimes.

 Vera Bradley wallet. 

 More makeup...the eyeshadow and liner have made their way out of the zippered pouch.  The square is a mini kit that includes basically all of the essentials, and it's too big to fit in the pouch.

Another random craft supply.  Purple fabric dye!

Hygienic items.  For the men: why yes, that is a tampon.  As you can see, I've also got a deodorant and two different kinds of hand sanitizer.  You can never be too OCD careful.

Assorted credentials.  To the left, you will see my official Skywarn Weather Spotter card.  Yep, I am allowed to report weather conditions to the National Weather Service.  I had to go to a class to get it (though I basically already knew everything that was taught anyway).  I'm kind of a science nerd, and I love studying meteorology.  On the right is my official DIVA card.  I had to sit in a booth at Chuck-e-Cheese to get this.  It's not the best picture of me, but how about you go get one and we'll see how great yours comes out, Nucka.

Pens.

Scraps of paper and candy wrappers.

Two dimes, a miniature stapler, sea shells, Kindle plug, sand shovel, Lightening McQueen toy car,  and my keys. 

Well, I have to say that it's actually not so bad right now.  But then I just dumped it out and cleaned it out last week.  I try to do that every once in awhile.

I tag Katie, Cheryl and Helena!

Chelsea Handler, Rosetta Stone, Homeschooling

I've been so behind on my reading lately.  I just haven't had enough time to sit still and read a book...normally I read several novels per week.  So I felt quite accomplished this week when I managed to read two.  The first I'm not even going to bother mentioning because, while the book was good, I'm embarrassed by it.  Let's just say it's the latest installment of a trashy chick-lit series.  No, it's not a Twilight book, I would never stoop that low.  I read the first one and it was the first time I ever felt that I really wasted a small part of my life on something.

The second was My Horizontal Life: A Collection of One-Night Stands by Chelsea Handler.  Awhile ago I read another book of hers, Are You There, Vodka? It's Me, Chelsea and found it LOL funny.  My Horizontal Life didn't disappoint...my favorite story involved Chelsea being suckered into dressing like an M&M to a party while everybody else arrived in sexy costumes.  She was unable to make it home after the party, so she crashed at some guy's house, and was forced to run in her costume the next morning to another friend's apartment a few blocks away.  I was laughing so hard while reading this one that my husband was rolling his eyes and telling me to be quiet.

Her next book: Chelsea Chelsea Bang Bang is being released tomorrow, and I plan on immediately picking up a copy.  I wanted to go to her event at the Wang Theater in Boston, but tickets are $100+ for crappy seats, and $400+ for good ones...which is more than I can spend without my husband killing me and making it look like an accident.   

I've officially started my French language education.  I acquired a copy of Rosetta Stone French after my mother spoke highly of the program (though she owns the Spanish version).  I've gone through the first few lessons of unit 1 and I have to say, I'm rather impressed with it.  I'm having no trouble at all remembering the words and matching the pictures to them correctly...pronunciation, on the other hand...well, that's a different story.  Sometimes it gets frustrating because when I'm prompted to speak the words or sentences into my microphone, I have to do it for several minutes before Rosetta will finally give me the green light and let me pass.

I'm curious if I would have the same difficulty in the Spanish program.  I'm not fluent in Spanish, but I took 3 or 4 years of it in school and can understand enough to get a good idea about what somebody is saying if I pause on El Gordo y la Flaca or one of the nutty Spanish soap operas or game shows on Univision.  Is it because I'm really that horrible at pronouncing the words, or is Rosetta Stone a bit flawed when it comes to voice recognition?

And finally, this week is my daughter's last week in public school.  For this year at least.  As I wrote about previously, we've been having problems at the current school she's attending and switching to another school in the district is not an option because of policies in place by the local school board.  I've thought about homeschooling her for her first few years of school anyway, because she has life-threatening food allergies and several other not so dangerous ones.  She's young, and still not quite aware of the severeness of her condition.  And it's always a fear of mine that she'll take a cookie from a well-meaning kid who is trying to share and have a reaction. 

Anyway, we'll be finishing up the rest of this school year at home.  I've signed her up to an online curriculum, and will be supplementing with books and other materials where it falls short.  I'm really excited actually, there's a great local homeschool group that has get-togethers at least once a week...and I can take her and the boys on "field trips" anytime I want.  As if I need another excuse to go to the beach.  I'll also be enrolling her in dance classes, which is something I've wanted to do forever anyway but just haven't gotten around to it.  And, I'm going to have her go through the Rosetta program too.  It's ideal for a person to begin learning a foreign language while they're still young, so I'm hoping she catches on easily and enjoys it as much as I do.

Au revoir!

Talking about Jesus in my Guinness Shirt

There is a woman with a thick accent that has been stopping by my door lately.  It's 9:30AM and the bell rings.  Nobody ever comes at this hour in the morning.  I thought it was going to be one of the handymen for another annoying routine maitenance check-up.  My peephole is obscured by a spring decoration hanging on the door, so I peered out the window and saw a woman's rear dressed in a long, flowery skirt. 

I open the door and I see my middle-aged friend with another woman (skirted lady).  She shoves a booklet in my hand, I look over my shoulder nervously at my two boys...running around naked in their diapers sagging with urine.  They had just woken up, and I hadn't changed them yet.  I kept glancing over my shoulder, I didn't want to be rude and slam the door in their face or say I didn't have time, but shit, those diapers really needed to be changed.

The woman with the accent then asks me if I think Jesus is the world's greatest hero.  And I nod my head in agreement "Yes, yes, of course."  I say.  She then proceeds to open her Bible and read a verse to me.  She asks me if I own a Bible.  I tell her yes, I have one on my Kindle.  Which wasn't a lie, I do...but mostly I use it for reference (lately, I've been using it to try to figure out the TV show LOST) and not for spiritual purposes.  I also wouldn't disagree with Jesus being a hero.  I believe that he was a real man in history, that did good things for people and encouraged them to live with morality.  Kind of like Mother Theresa.  I don't believe in the crazier parts of the Jesus story.

I believe in God.  But I don't consider myself a Christian...or a Jew, or anything else.  If I had to align myself with any church or religious group, it would be the Unitarian Universalists. 

Anyway, she thanks me for my time and I thank her for stopping by.  I say "oh, I have a question.  Where are you from?  ....your accent...?"  She laughs and says "Oh, I'm from Finland!"  I smile and say "Oh neat, I'm Norwegian."  She tells me Norway is the most beautiful country she's ever been to.  Then we smile and nod at eachother through an awkward moment.  She takes a long look at my green Guinness Draught shirt, and I suddenly feel self-conscious.  "Well...goodbye."  I say.  "Have a good afternoon!"  the women reply in unison.  And they were on their way.

One day, I'm going to wake up to a hand that must be amputated.

Lately, I've been sleeping on my stomach a lot. Which is peculiar, because until my last son was born two years ago, I was never a tummy sleeper. I always slept on a side. Never my back, I don't think I'll ever be one of those people. I think I began laying on my stomach after the birth of Hayden because it was something that I didn't realize could be so glorious until I couldn't do it...when you've got a belly out to here, it's simply impossible.

I've found that recently, the only way I can fall asleep is if I begin the process of falling asleep on my belly. But not only that, I must cross my arms underneath me like an imperial mummy. This obviously creates a big problem: my hands fall asleep. This hasn't always happened, it's just been over the past couple months.

When I first woke up with a hand that was a few minutes away from being dead, I literally panicked. My first thought was to go to the hospital. Seriously. I couldn't feel my hand. I didn't even have the tingling sensation. I couldn't move it. I was hitting my hand on my leg, the couch, trying to wiggle my fingers...anything I could do to wake it up. Of course, I was finally able to, but it was quite a scare. It happened again a few nights later. And honestly, it didn't even occur to me right away that the reason this was happening was because I was sleeping on my hands. I thought I had some sort of circulation problem. Yea, I have my moments.

I still fall asleep the same way every night, even with the knowledge that I'm smothering my hands. I'm slightly concerned that one morning, I might wake up and be unable to rouse a hand. It will have passed on, ultimately poisoning the rest of my body if I don't have it removed. I guess I'll just need to practice typing with one hand until then. I'll be ready.

Google Reader is Possessed.

To make room in my blog reading queue for my favorite blogs, I've been trying to cut down on the noise by getting rid of those that I hardly read, mainly "big time" blogs that post way too many times a day: Mashable, Engadget, etc. While they make for good reading when I've got nothing else to do, I'd much rather concentrate on my e-friends and their blogs.

I get overwhelmed when I see "793 Unread Items" on my Google Reader page and then I get even more behind on reading the blogs I actually care about since I must fight through a sea of Mashable and others to get to them.

So, earlier today I spent some time...for the third time this week...going through the Manage Subscriptions area and deleting the blogs I don't want. But, once again, a few hours later all of the blogs I just deleted popped back up in my Reader. "APRIL FOOLS!" Google said.