It's kinda catchy

Sing it with me...

Leaving town and need to pack
(shit oh shit oh shit)
But instead I had a snack
(shit oh shit oh shit)
Gotta vacuum here
Gotta pay bills there
Here a chore, there a chore
Everywhere a chore chore
Plus I need to work tonight...
(Shit. Oh shit. Oh shit.)

I'll be away until Tuesday, in the wilds of no-Internet-access Land. Cold turkey and whatnot. I'll probably get the shakes but I'll try to make up for it with ice cream. Don't cry for me, Blog-entina.
xo
-PK

The Queen is dead. Long live the Queen.

For those of you who thought the Girl was insulting bugs, she was actually being naughty to the blog. Yes, usually I would tell her not to say "Stupid Head," but she sort of caught me off guard.

Now, she's become so enamored of hearing herself insult the Internet, that she keeps begging to play with the blog. And since we were on the subject of freaky dreams, I thought you'd enjoy a preview of the future Queen's subconcious. The Girl's dream, as told to me at 2:30 this morning (translation following) :

"My at da zoo, and my sittin wit da lion, and my cryin and cryin. My did cry cause my did want Papa! Any my did cry and den my did watch da show, and da bunny did play da whistle and da birdy did play da gi-tar, and den Papa did come and put da car on da bunny. An my was sad. And da train did go up an down an up an down an it did go so, so, so slow!!"

O-kay, then. Who's bringing the birthday cake?

Well, I didn't say it...

But I'm sure she didn't mean you...

Is it just me, or are high school girls kicking ass?

After being totally proud of that high school senior who walked across the stage at graduation despite being told she couldn't because of her pregnancy, now I feel the same way about this girl, for not really caring. These girls are gonna be fine. Good for them.

Dream on

Okay, I know somebody linked to the John Cusack dream a while back, but I'm really sorry, I can't remember which of you it was. But SFTR links today to somebody who links to somebody else who links to this. I love it. Cause have I mentioned? I am the Queen of Freaky Dreams.

I love EVerybody

I must be full of endorphins from pruning all the flipping shrubs in my yard. Or maybe it's the heat--90 degrees today!--but I'm just all full of good will and shit.

So hi! Hi everybody! Thanks for stopping by. Thanks for commenting or emailing or whatever it is you do when you're here. I mean, unless you're doing something freaky out there where I can't see you. Although I'm generally okay with freaky, so I guess that would be okay too.

You know it to be true

Yesterday was the Boy's Tae Kwan Do lesson. Did I even come close to spelling that right? Anyway, the Ex--being Martial Arts Man--comes and picks up the Boy and takes him to these lessons. The Ex usually arrives as I'm prying the Boy away from some project or other and coaxing him into his uniform. Yesterday, I somehow convinced him to start getting ready a bit early so that he'd actually be dressed when his father arrived, instead of hopping around in his underwear like usual.

The front door was open and I was getting the Boy dressed in the living room so that I could see through the storm door. "Come on, bud," I said, "let's finish getting you ready before Papa gets here."

"Papa IS here!" the Boy blurted out. "He is?" I asked, craning my neck to look through the door to the driveway. "Did you hear his car?"

The Boy looked up at me from under his eyebrows. "No," he said, seriously, "I felt a disturbance in the Force."

Three

Okay, Profgrrrrl tagged me. I'll play.

3 names you go by (that won't give away my identity):
The first syllable of my name
Chica
Mama

3 screennames you've had:
Lanya
Psycho Kitty
SBFH

3 physical things you like about yourself:
Eyes
Collarbone
Feet

3 physical things you dislike about yourself:
The weight I'm carrying right now
The changes in my skin during the past several years
Being nearsighted

3 parts of your heritage:
Irish
English
French

3 things you are wearing right now:
Tunic
Slippers
Jeans

3 favorite bands / musical artists:
Sting
Puccini
Annie Lenox

3 favorite songs:
Moondance
Mad About You
Ave Maria

3 things you want in a relationship:
Love
Trust
Respect

3 physical things about the preferred sex that appeals to you:
Eyes
Hands
Mind

3 of your favorite hobbies:
Reading
Blogging
Walking

3 things you want to do really badly right now:
Lose weight
Quit hearing my children wandering around when they're supposed to be ASLEEP
Get over the Ex

3 things that scare you:
Something happening to my loved ones
The current US administration
Sharks

3 of your everyday essentials:
Water
Medication (Lord, I'm old)
Coffee

3 careers you have considered or are considering:
Actress
Teacher
Writer

3 places you want to go on vacation:
Palm Island, Grenadines
Ireland
Italy

3 kids' names you like:
Liam
Dagne
Jack

3 things you want to do before you die:
Hang glide
See my kids grow up healthy and happy
Have a positive effect on the world

3 ways you are stereotypically a boy: (uh...I'm just taking a shot in the dark here. Are these guy things? I guess I don't get guys enough to know what "guy things" would be right off hand)
I'm difficult to offend
I think South Park is funny
I like whiskey

3 ways you are stereotypically a chick:
Shoes
Sappy movies
Chocolate

3 celeb crushes:
Hugh Jackman
Ralph Fiennes
Angelina Jolie

3 people to play next:
Sarahlynn
Trisha
Krupskaya

Blog virgin no more

That sounds so confessional.

I finally met another blog person. Profgrrrrl and I met for dinner, and I must say that the pink hair rocks. And yes, she is as completely smart and lovely and interesting in real life as in blog life. Plus she made a penis joke that almost made me choke on my edamame, so what's not to like there?

Now THAT's love...I think

The Boy and the Girl are sitting at the table, waiting for breakfast. They've already rearranged all the place settings so that they can sit right next to each other.

B: GG, I really do love you.
Me: [Awwwww.]
G: Yeah. [pause] My tooted!
B: EEEEWWWWWW!

Dry bones

It's funny how the sun breaks through the clouds and you suddenly notice it and think, Wow. When did it get so foggy out here?

I've been depressed before, but damned if the bastard didn't sneak up on me again. When it happened in my 20s, it was all bad poetry and messy love affairs and lots of cigarettes and a different country. This time around, it's been a slow, creeping paralysis. It isn't that I've been particularly sad, mind you. Oh, I've had moments of sad, but it hasn't been that. It's been more a lack of connection. A disconnection. No focus, no interest in focusing. No buffer between the stress and the breaking point. Little ailments that won't go away. Tired, tired, unceasingly tired. And showering has seemed increasingly over-rated.

Only 2 weeks after going back to Dr. Zen, starting on the Lexapro, and also getting back a diagnosis of slight hypothyroidism (is that even a word?) and starting meds for that, I think I see the sun peaking out from behind those clouds. Maybe I didn't notice them because I was looking for storm clouds, dark thunderheads, when I should have been looking out for a low and spreading haze. Regardless, I think things are looking up.

There are also some exciting developments on the Boy front, which I'll get into soon. And I have some crow to eat regarding the Boy's teacher. I will also tell you about my thrilling visceral massage! Or maybe not. And in any case, it will have to wait, because I have an appointment to go to bed. No, that is nowhere near as promising as it sounds. Dr. Zen has given me homework--Mobility Tracking. Oh, that wacky Dr. Zen, making me work for the Happy.

Holy cow

I've been such a bad blogger this week. Everything's going well, really, but these drugs are knocking me off my ass. I actually did a face plant on my bed the other night and woke up 3 hours later with a little drool on the pillow. (Aren't you glad to know that? Prospective boyfriends, sign up below.) And the Ex was on a business trip, and the Girl has decided that sleep is for the birds, and that Her Majesty will only sleep past 2 a.m. if moved to my bed. And I am so lacking the will power to stop her. I'm amused by the doctors' efforts to "regulate my sleep". They obviously are forgetting that I live with small children. Ho ho. There was a funny post in there somewhere at about 3 a.m. Thursday, in which both kids and the cat wound up trying to sleep on top of me simultaneously, but it eludes me now. I'm not at the top of my game at 3 a.m.

Go tell it

So tonight I'm reading the Boy bedtime stories ("The Magic Treehouse" again) and he says, "Mom, how come something scary always happens to Jack and Annie? In every book, something scary happens. Why is that?" So I explain the idea of having a beginning of a story, and then having something important or exciting or scary happen, and then having the story wind down and everyone goes home. "It's sort of like a mountain," I tell him, drawing the shape in the air, "and the important or exciting or scary part is the top of the mountain. It's called the...um...the..." And then I pause and try to think of the word "climax" because for heaven's sake, I know the freakin' word , I'm just a little addled. But before I can say it, the Boy interjects: "The Mountain of Good and Bad." "Yes," I say. "It's called the climax, but that's exactly what it is. I think I like that better."

Lexapro Adventures, Day 2

Well, I'll say this for it: It sure does make the body of Christ stick to the roof of your mouth.