What’s New, Peeps?
June 11, 2009
Once again, lost to the world of blogging. I’m tentatively considering an indefinite hiatus, but the thought of completely giving up on the site has me a little trembly, so who knows, I’ll probably wind up keeping it around for random posts once a month or so. Then again, I may change my mind and start posting every day again. Not that I’ve done that for years.
I think I’m just feeling a little under the weather lately and that’s my whole problem. I am going back to work next month and since I hated my job before I left to go on maternity leave… I’m really dreading returning to it. I’m hating hating hating the fact that I have to go back to work at all, but our financial situation is dire and makes the paycheck necessary - even if half of it will be going to daycare once my free childcare (aka Grandma) ends in September. Daycare. Gah. That word makes me angry. I hate the idea of daycare. I hate the idea of dropping my kid off to be taken care of by a virtual stranger five days a week. Hate hate hate. I’m really really bitter about this, but I don’t think that I have any other options. It’s killing me, people.
I’ve also completely lost myself to the World of Warcraft. Yup, that’s right. You can officially call me a gaming nerd now. I can’t help it. I start playing and before I know it, hours have passed. It’s SO much fun, though. If you play, you should leave your realm and character name in the comments. I’ll look you up. I have four toons already - what’s a few more?
I was really really getting stoked for a trip to New Mexico in October to go visit the hot air balloon festival, but, bummer bummer bummer, with our financial situation being as it is (read: dire) that trip is going by the wayside, I think. I’m still trying to find a way to make it happen, but… I just don’t think it’s going to work. Same with a trip I was hoping to make to Mexico (you know, to do vacation right sans child), but again… I think making the bills is a bit more important than a few piddly vacations. As much as it pains me.
So that’s my life in a nutshell these days. Baby, Warcraft, financial ruin and cancelled vacation plans. What’s up with all of y’all?
Link Happy
May 28, 2009
This is me with nothing else to blog about, so here, have some links.
50 People, One Question - I thought it was pretty cool.
Misha Lulu - Only the cutest kids clothes on the planet.
Subversive Cross Stitch - I’ve shared this one before, but it deserves to be shared again. Patterns for those under the age of 50.
Cuddly Toys Of Death - Need I say more?
100 Ways To Kill A Peep - So awesome.
Water-Logged - Ouch! Seriously??
Snacks & Shit - Hahaha, I always knew rap music was LAME.
And there are your happy links for the day. Now go forth and be merry or something.
When Life Gives Me Lemons, It Tends To Give Them Via Papercuts
May 17, 2009
I swear to you all that there’s a very very good reason why I haven’t blogged in the last, oh, month and a bit. Pretty much April ended with a score of Life: 53,404 and Courtney: 0. Let me share (because if there’s anything that I’ve learned, it’s that misery loves company and damnit, I want to share my misery).
It all started a few days before my last post. I was all amped to go to the Britney Spears concert (oh hell yeah, I love me some Britney, laugh all you want). I woke up that morning sick as all hell. I ate very little that day, I felt lousy and then Britney walked off stage three songs into her set because “the smoke was too bad.” Right. She eventually came back on, but really, it was lame. I still love the songs, but I was disappointed in the show - I was expecting a much better performance from someone who doesn’t even have to actually sing.
The nasty cold stuck around for a few days and I regained my appetite on Saturday - just in time for me to have the wisdom teeth on the left side of my mouth removed. When I had the ones on my right side taken out, I was back to normal one week later. Not so much this time. I was barely able to eat even ten days after the fact.
Of course, on the tenth day after the wisdom teeth extraction, I wasn’t thinking too awfully much about the pain in my mouth because I was in the hospital with abdominal pain. I had woken up at 1:30 in the morning with horrid horrid pain in my back and left side. I was writhing and crying and I couldn’t seem to find a comfortable spot. I told Derek that I felt like I was in labor all over again. Derek thought I was faking it because I was writhing around so much. He didn’t see how or why I could be in that much pain. Eventually, when it still wasn’t easing off, we called an ambulance (so we didn’t have to wake Ana up) and off I went at 4:30 to the emergency room. At 9:30 I finally saw a doctor who sent me in for a CT Scan and confirmed that I had (dum dum dum) a kidney stone. Fantastic. He told me that I shouldn’t leave for Mexico as I was scheduled to five days later. Yeah. Right. Like I’m going to skip a freaking expensive vacation and my good friend’s wedding for pain that may or may not occur.
I probably should have stayed home from my “vacation,” but my kidney stone had nothing to do with and never made a reappearance. To this day I’ve stayed pain free in that regard. We left on Saturday as scheduled for Mexico. On Sunday, Ana was violently sick. On Monday she threw up. On Tuesday she threw up and had diarrhea and something Derek had eaten for dinner the night before didn’t agree with him and he was sick all day. On Wednesday she threw up and had nasty diapers. On Thursday we were blessed with no vomit, but were still stuck changing diapers on the hour and then I stubbed my toe (twice) and broke it. Yes, I broke my toe. That or bruised the bone, but in either case, my foot turned black and blue within hours. Friday had more vomit and with the exception of Sunday’s vomit-fest, it was the most we’d seen yet. Joy. The next day we went home.
I wish that I could tell you that the vacation-that-wasn’t was the last of my drama, but no, it was not to be. Last week I received a letter from the Canadian government telling me that my 2006 taxes were incorrect and that I now owed them all of my refund back, plus interest, plus late fees. That meant I owed them $2K. Oh, and by the way, they wanted it in two weeks. ARGH. Turns out, it was a mistake on our tax-preparer’s end and since he’s family, he just paid it and now we’re going to pay him back slowly so it’s not a total crisis, but still, that’s $2K that I would just rather have never had in the first place then something I have to try to come up with now. Gar.
Nope. It doesn’t end there.
Finally, two days ago, I was driving down to Seattle to go see Taylor Swift with my sister. (I’m not really such a teeny-bopper, I swear. These particular tickets were free.) I was thinking I was looking all sassy thinking that the only good thing to come out of the last few weeks was the weight loss from stress and/or not eating, when the gas station attendant asked me if I knew what I was having - a boy or a girl. I’m not pregnant.
And that, my friends, concludes my month ‘o shit. So forgive me for not having posted sooner. Now I’m just trying to put all of that behind me and move the fuck on. ‘Cause seriously? UGH.
Please Name My Car
April 15, 2009
Cars are funny things. If you’re anything like me, you don’t get super-attached to your vehicle, but nevertheless, it plays a big role in your life. If your car is having a bad day, well, so are you. If your car is rocking, well, you’re probably having a pretty good time. In typing that last sentence, I meant it completely different than it came out, but that works too, I guess!
My first car was a 1983 Volkswagon Jetta. I liked it, it was alright. She was a pumpkin color and rattled a lot and didn’t last long enough to receive a name. I was in a hurry to move onto a vehicle that I’d like much better.
The Little Bugga That Could was fantastic. She was a 1973 Volkswagon SuperBeetle and we had some gooooood times together. She was a bit weak and hills were a bit of a workout for the old girl, but we chugga-chugged on through until rust damage and an unfortunately accident caused her untimely death.
Ol’ Smokey came next. This Mazda RX-7 from the 80’s was a lot of fun to ride in, but the guy who sold it to me wasn’t kidding when he told my dad and I that there were engine problems. I couldn’t drive more than a few miles without smoke starting to pour from underneath the hood.
My Pontiac Grand Am was probably one of my nicer vehicles actually, but I was young then and I hated that it wasn’t a “cool” car. I called her the Pontica Grand Ma.
My last car, the Focus, never had a name because I had no real attachment to it, but my current car - I loooove my current car. I’ve returned to my love of Volkswagon and have driven my pretty little Golf since July. It dawned on me the other day that my car has no name and this is just wrong.
Problem is? I can’t come up with anything good. So here. Help a sister out. Name my car, please? She’s a midnight blue VW Golf and she’s fun and she’s fast. Whatcha got for me?
Best Weight Loss Plan EVER
April 12, 2009
Step One: Wake up sick with a nasty cold and (very important) no appetite.
Step Two: Go to a concert (more about that later) with said cold and scream and holler despite your throat burning.
Step Three: Return home from aforementioned concert and proceed to cough so hard and so violently that you throw up not once, not even twice or thrice, but four times.
Step Four: Remain sick for two more days.
Step Five: Regain appetite approximately five minutes after having your two remaining wisdom teeth extracted (in a manner that has caused significant more pain the the preceding tooth extractions if you feel that info is important).
Step Six: Whine bitterly. And loudly. To anyone who will listen.
My poor husband.
Reading Habits
April 7, 2009
I have a lot of strange little quirks when it comes to me and books. It borders on compulsive, these problems habits of mine.
First, I can’t seem to stick one book at a time. I don’t know how it happens, but I always wind up in the middle of at least three books - more often six or seven at a time. I think it’s because if the original book that I started reading isn’t closest to me, I just grab whatever is near and start reading that. Then I like to keep a small paperback in my purse. You know, just in case. Then I have people loaning me books all the time and I like to work my way through those pretty quickly so I can return them to their rightful owners. Lastly, I always seem to be in the middle of that book that I just can’t seem to get through…
Which leads me to my next book-ism. I can’t leave a book unfinished. I’ve only done it once with Frank Herbert’s Dune and I don’t doubt that one day I will go back and finish that. It doesn’t seem to matter how awful the book is or how long it takes me to get through it, I am determined to give the book its chance to the very end. The book that I’m reading currently is one of those ones. It’s good, but not great and I’m finding myself overwhelmed by the sheer amount of characters and the similarities in all their names and titles. I’ve been reading this book since November. Of course, I’ve completed well over a dozen books since then, but this one is still a work in progress. I’m making it my goal to finish it this week.
Another oddity of mine is my need to read all the books by an author in the order they were published. Especially if it’s a series. It doesn’t matter if the novels can stand alone; I have to read them in order. I get a bit twitchy if I find out after the fact that I’ve read something out of order. I hate it when people tell me that it doesn’t matter if I read them correctly or not because damnit, to me, it matters. I used to even wait until a series was completed and published before I’d even start to read them, but I’ve gotten over that quirk. Mostly.
I often find myself staying up late to finish a good book. This wouldn’t be weird in and of itself except that when I finish it, I can’t sleep unless I get at least a page into a new book. I hate the feeling of not having moved on to something else. This probably also contributes to the first bit I mentioned - where I sometimes wind up in the midst of more books than any one person should be reading at any one time.
So as you can see, I’m a bit weird about my books. I also don’t get rid of anything in my collection. Not even when it sucks. If it’s awful I just stick it on a shelf out of sight, but I can’t seem to get myself to pass it on. I tried taking part in this really neat project (whose name I can’t remember or I’d link to it) where you’d leave a book in a public place with a note and a link in it telling the finder to read it and pass it on with the same link. When they went to the link they’d find a page where they could register where they found the book. Then you could see how far and how often your book travels. I was able to do it with one book and it hurt. So I stopped. I like to keep my pretties where I can be surrounded by them. I love sitting and reading the familiar titles and figuring out which books I’d like to read next and remember which were good and which were stinkers.
I just love books. What are your weird reading habits?
Identity Crisis
April 4, 2009
One of the comments I got on my post a few posts ago was that I should talk more about myself. I kinda laughed when I read it because it’s true, I used to write a lot about me and what I was up to and my history and so on and so forth, but I haven’t - probably in the last year or more.
I started to think about it and I realized that it’s because I’m really struggling with figuring out who I am. I think this is pretty standard fare for the first year of motherhood, but that doesn’t make me feel any less isolated or unsure. I just really don’t know who COURTNEY is anymore. I’m a mom, sure. I’m a wife, yeah. I just don’t know what else I’m all about it. I know that a lot of that is because Ana is my entire life these days. I wake up when she does and I play with her until she naps. When she naps I work on my household chores (uhm, yeah, or play Bingo) and then take care of her again when she wakes. I change diapers every few hours and give food and/or bottles every few hours. I may be tired at ten in the evening, but if Ana doesn’t want to sleep until midnight, well, that’s how late I’m up. My life truly revolves around her. If I want to go out without her, I have to ask permission from my husband to make sure that he’s able to be home with her. I don’t think he realizes that. He can make whatever plans he wants, but I’m dependent on him being home in order to be able to leave without an armload of baby gear plus baby. But that’s not the point of this post.
My maternity leave is up in July and I’m really torn up about what I’m going to do. I’d like to be able to say that we can afford for me to stay home and take some online courses and get a degree in something, but realistically I think I need to find a job. I know that I don’t want to go back to collections and a call center. I just don’t. I also don’t want full-time work because I don’t want to be away from Ana that long. I don’t want to miss anything. The downside to that is that I really have no marketable skills. My options? Retail or waiting tables. Oh joy.
I’d like to go back to school, but I don’t even know what for. I’ve considered medical administration so I can do dictation from home. I’ve considered web design because I love making layouts, but don’t know enough code to put them together. I could also work from home doing design work. I’ve dreamt for forever of opening a small used bookstore, but the money to put together an inventory would take way more than anything I would ever earn. Especially since I live in a city that doesn’t really read a whole lot. I have another small business idea that I’d love to run with, but again - start up is far and above any sort of fundage that I can come up with.
I just don’t know what I want to do. I don’t know who I am and I feel like I’m still sitting here saying, “When I grow up…” But I’m almost thirty. I am grown up. Shouldn’t I know what I’m doing?
My ten year high school reunion is this year and I have to admit to being very relieved that I already have plans for that weekend. I don’t want all those people that I felt inferior to even then to see the nothing that I’ve become. Which is not to diminish my role as mother - I love Ana with every fiber of my being and I would never ever want to live another day without her. She is truly my greatest accomplishment in life. But. I didn’t graduate college. I never made a career. I never did anything.
I guess I just want to be more than mom and I don’t know who that girl is. I don’t know how to find me again.
Because Who Doesn’t Want To See Cute Baby Videos?
April 2, 2009
Okay, probably plenty of people. But they can just leave. ‘Cause here are some videos of my super-cute daughter.
Something New
March 30, 2009
I seem to have some problems with blogging consistency lately. How kind of you to say that you haven’t noticed, but really, its been an issue. It’s not that I don’t want to blog because I do. It’s not because I’m that busy because while I have been pretty active lately I always find time for the internet. I think my problem is that I want each blog post to be wrapped up in a pretty little bow with a subject, a beginning and a conclusion.
I am beginning to realize that you know what, this is a personal blog, not an essay competition and that really, I can fuck the format and do whatever the hell I want. That’s right. Whatever I want.
So I’m going to try something new and just write whatever the hell is on my mind at any given moment in the day and if that makes up an entry that is all over the board, well then, so be it.
For example: lately I’ve been finding myself really irritated by both Dove and Axe campaigns. I love Dove’s pro-woman campaign and I tend to pick up a lot of their products with that in mind. I have an extreme hatred for the Axe commercials that make women look like they can’t control themselves if a man smells good. Ridiculous. So imagine my annoyance when I realized that Dove and Axe are owned by the same company, Unilever. UGH. I think I’m done buying Dove products. I need to find out what other labels this company runs, too. I know they’re all out to make money, but to have such wildly contradicting messages really burns me. Especially when one is so empowering and awesome that is then totally negated by the one that makes women look like sex-crazed idiots.
Have I told you that Ana crawls now? She started crawling about eight weeks ago and now she’s standing up against furniture and taking baby steps along it. My goodness, she’s going to be walking by nine months. I am in T-R-O-U-B-L-E. My parents just spent the better part of last week with her and they kept repeating that over and over. She’s going to be a handful. She’s going to be a mover. She’s going to keep you on your toes. Oh yes, I know. I already know. She’s damn cute, though.
I have less than two weeks to go until I’m back to the dentist to have my other two wisdom teeth out and the stress is starting up again. This time though, I’m not as worried about the procedure (although I know that it will involve major suckage), but the aftermath. I hated not being able to eat. I hated wincing every time I swallowed and I hated the godawful pain every time I tried to take a sip of water. I’m such a baby. Can’t I just keep these two wisdom teeth? Really?
Do you know how anxious I am for summer to come? I just want it here. I want heat and sunshine and long days full of walks and playing at the park and taking day trips and camping. I’m so tired of this rain and snow and cold and wind and grey. It’s making me feel really blegh these days.
I think the universe is conspiring against me going to the gym tonight. I told myself that I was going to go before dinner. My husband and I were working on laundry and I started to get dressed to go about twenty minutes ago. Except that both of my pairs of workout pants are now in the dryer. By the time they’re done, it’s dinner time. My gym has crappy hours and closes at nine so I can’t go too late, either. Hmmm. To hell with it, my pants will be dry in an hour and I can just eat a really late dinner, I guess. I have to go to the gym.
I didn’t go to the gym. I’m such a slacker.
Oh! And dudes! It’s totally my four year blog anniversary today. Woot woot, go me, blogging for four years. I somehow never really thought I’d stick with it for this long. My posts may be few and far between (which I’m working to remedy), but I’m still here and still trucking. I thought I’d take this opportunity to snag a little survey from Cecily Uppercase Woman just to see what kind of responses I get. Please do take the time to answer a few questions even if you don’t usually comment! Feel free to use my email instead of leaving a public comment if you feel more comfortable with that. My email is courtney(dot)slavin(at)gmail(dot)com. Have at ‘er.
1. What do we have in common?
2. What DON’T we have in common?
3. How did you find my blog?
4. What do you enjoy about this blog, if anything?
5. Do you comment?
6. What do you wish I’d shut up about?
7. What do you wish I’d talk more about?
8. Where are you from?
9. What one question would you like me to answer? Be creative.
10. Do you have a blog? If so, plug it here!
Thanks and goodnight!
Tooth Fairy
March 14, 2009
I have a pretty well-known fear (at least amongst my friends) of the dentist. I’m not really sure why as nothing traumatic ever happened. I used to be okay with the dentist. The usual dislike of them was there, but not a fear. Not this anxiety that sends me in to each cleaning white knuckled and breathing a little more shallow than I’d like to be breathing.
I let that fear get in the way of my dental hygiene for far too long and a few months ago I decided that I just needed to get over it and get my teeth repaired so I could start fresh and maintain regular appointments.
I went in last month and, sure enough, was told I had lots of work and appointments ahead of me. I just shrugged and said to myself that, well, it had to be done and it was the price I was paying for slacking off all those years. I went in for two appointments after that for hygienist cleaning and they penciled me in for March 14th for my biggest fear. Wisdom tooth removal.
For the last five weeks I have been dreading today. Whining about today. Hoping today would never come. I knew they’d be giving me good drugs, but I also know that my body doesn’t really react strongly to pain meds or other medicines. I showed up for my appointment an hour early as they asked me to and they gave me valium. That totally makes me laugh. I was on VALIUM. Also Demerol. They told me in about an hour I’d be nice and loopy. Except not so much. My head felt a tiny bit heavy when I sat still, but I was nowhere near loopy and the anxiety that they promised the valium would cure? Was SO much still there that I cried when I sat down in the chair. That’s right, people, I’m a total mess when it comes to heavy duty dental work.
The good news is that I made it out alive and the actual procedure wasn’t excruciating. It was decidedly uncomfortable and I’m not looking forward to round two when they do the left side of my mouth and the last two wisdom teeth, but at least I’m not looking to that appointment with as much dread as this one.
That said, the entire right side of my face is just burning now. It throbs all the way up to my eyeballs. Wow, am I ever uncomfortable. Fortunately I’m loaded up with some codeine enhanced Tylenol (which actually seems to be working more than the Demerol did) and now I’m going to plant myself in front of the television with my mashed potatoes, my pills and some Buffy the Vampire Slayer, aka The Best Show On Earth.
Is anybody else this irrationally afraid of the dentist? I CRY, PEOPLE. Pathetic.