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Showing posts from April, 2012

Random Ramblings

When I lie awake at night, often post ideas swim around my head, most of which are pretty good. But when I wake up the next day (or at least when I have the time to sit down and write a post), those great ideas and half-written-in-my-head posts have disappeared. So I just thought I would throw a few things out there. I went to a fashion show today, to support J's school. Considering my near lack of fashion, it is kind of funny, but it was actually a nice time, made better by my winning a small door prize. If nothing else, I was happy to see a pair of medium-length shorts on one of the eight-grade models. Anymore, it seems as if shorts come in two sizes — an inch or two just below the butt or well below the knees, which I guess are not really shorts. Hooray for a happy medium! In case you were wondering, being out of work for three years is kind of like a lifetime. Unfortunately, those few freelance projects over the past few years as well as my share of subbing are just not the

We must, we must, we must increase our busts!

Last evening, for reasons I cannot remember, my eight-and-a-half-year-old third grader asked if she could get a bra. Well, bras . For a girl, the first bra is a big deal, and I am fairly certain that the vast majority of ladies out there remember their first (or at least early) experience with that mystical piece of fabric. My earliest memory of bra-land was in the fourth grade. A note came home informing families that scoliosis tests were being conducted the next day. Girls were instructed to wear a bra, so they could be examined together in the same room (rather than sending them one at a time into a smaller room with the nurse). I was a skinny, flat-chested girl, and I did not own this white, shapeless garment, unlike every other girl in my class (most of whom were equally as flat-chested). So when the school nurse conducted the test, I was examined separately, while everyone else got to giggle with one another. I remember being pretty embarrassed. Even worse was getting the ner

I am a wimp. A big one.

Before I launch into this post, telling you how I can hardly handle pain stronger than a toe stubbing (and sometimes that is too much), let me first say that I birthed my only child without the use of any drugs. Nada. Nothing. Zilch. Everyone who knew me well was shocked I was able to do that. But do it I did. Not because I wanted to experience "natural" childbirth. No, intense contractions and the actual pushing don't seem all that natural to me. They definitely weren't beautiful, amazing, or however some crazy moms describe them. The real reason I birthed my kid without drugs? I did not want a needle in my spine. I hate needles. I used to donate blood regularly, with my sought-after O positive blood and all. But eventually I got to the point where the needle bothered me too much, both when it went in and how it felt the entire time (it burned). Couple that with my being a slow bleeder and throw in my passing out about 35 percent of the time, and I had some prett

MIA

It is weird for me to blog so infrequently. Yet I almost (almost!) don't miss it. I started working at a company on part-time, freelance basis almost four weeks ago. Even though I have been working only about 20 hours per week, I have had to juggle some things, commute a few times (have not missed that), and send my kid to after-school care twice. When you throw in a day of subbing, no school for almost a week, plenty of Easter-related church, spending time with relatives, and everyday normal stuff, well, blogging and Facebook take a backseat. But I did want to get in a good "Let's go, Pens!" cheer as today is the official start of the tied-for-first-place most wonderful time of the year--the Penguins-included hockey playoffs (Steelers playoffs share the trophy, in case that was not clear). Here's hoping the Pens can bring home another Cup. At the very least, I want the Pens to kick the crap out of Philthy. But not literally, because you know how I am anti-v