Things that make me think I can write better


When I’m trying to be a productive writer, and I use the term writer quite loosely, there are a few things that I like to use to trick my brain into being more focused….and hopefully more creative and clear.

*Eddie Vedder radio on Pandora (this is an obvious one…obviously!)

*I wear shoes.  Yes, I wear shoes.  It makes me think that I am going to work, and am therefore more productive.  Sometimes I’m snuggled up in a blanket at 1 a.m. with shoes on.  It’s a tough job, people.  The struggle is real.

*Hoods and scarves.  I cocoon my whole head up so that only my eyes can peek out.  I like to think that it keeps the creative juices warm and toasty and traps them so they can only escape through my chubby little fingers.

*Candy…love a good sugar buzz

*Caffeine…nothing helps out that sugar buzz like a little eyeball-popping caffeine.  Lately, I’ve just taken to drinking a double shot of espresso.  No latte, no cappuccino, no americano….just gimme the good stuff.  It helps my fingers type faster and with much less precision.

*Yellow legal pads, post it notes, and my favorite rollerball pens.  Sometimes, simply shopping for these items and never opening the packages is helpful in writing….it encourages that intention to write something important.

*Cooking something in the crock pot.  This one is huge.  As a mother and wife and general do-everything-in-the-household type of person…it really helps me focus when I know that dinner/lunch/whatever is cooking itself.  Multi-tasking at its finest!!

*sometimes I venture into Twisted Sister radio on Pandora too…for a little energy boost.

 

Do you ever wake up with the strangest song in your head?


Today, I awoke to the rap stylings of Salt N Peppa.  I suppose I should clarify…I didn’t hear the song this morning, or last night.  I haven’t heard this song in probably years, actually.  It was just playing away in my brain, on repeat.

None of your Business.

It’s a catchy tune.  Basically, after every line, they say it’s none of your business…and that is what I woke up with today.  I’ll take it.  Sometimes I will wake up with a terribly annoying song stuck in there that the kids like to play over and over and over….picture that Frozen song or worst case scenario.  Sometimes it’s an old school classic that my parents used to play all the time, like Van Morrisson or James Taylor.  If I’m lucky it’s a ridiculous song that makes me giggle to myself…things like DMX or Mysitkal come to mind.  Oh yeah.

Last week I had a beauty!  One of my wake-up song favorites of all time!  The song Kokomo by the Beach Boys.  Hell yes!

I then proceeded to sing it for days and get it stuck in everyone else’s head as well.  Because it’s catchy…and nostalgic.  I think I was in 3rd or 4th grade when Kokomo hit the airwaves.  When it’s 7 degrees outside, it’s kind of nice to sing about the tropical land of Kokomo…off the Florida Keys.  There’s a place called Kokomo.

We’ll get there fast and then we’ll take it slow-wo, that’s where we wanna go-o-o, way down to Koko-0-mo.

And then the saxophone solo kicks in and you’re dreaming about that tropical contact high.

**you are totally singing Kokomo in your own head right now, and you will all day, and then you’ll say to someone: Hey, remember that song Kokomo?  It’s totally stuck in my head right now, isn’t that weird/great/awful/amazing??

Can dreams come true?


I like weird dreams.  Dreams that you can barely even explain…you know the ones.  When you say the words out loud, trying desperately to paint the picture of what happened and where you were but it wasn’t there, you feel like a complete fool.

This dream is not quite like that.

It begins here:

I’m sitting at a lunch table in my high school gymnasium.  I remember the blue circle seats.  I was sitting with someone I knew, but I can’t recall who it truly was.  It felt like we were friends.

I glanced over my left shoulder and saw my mother at the head table, near the stage.  I saw her from behind.  I recognized her twisted bun.  A man approached her table and hunkered down to her left her.  I gasped.  My heart began to beat faster and I stood up.  I shot up, actually.

Next thing I know, I’m crouched to my mom’s right side saying ‘Want to introduce me to your friend?’  I have some shit-eating grin on my face as I look to him for the answer and not my mom.  My mom was merely the portal.

He smiles and opens his arms as if to say ‘come and sit on my lap.’  I did not sit on his lap.

It’s Eddie.  Eddie fucking Vedder.

We proceed to chat for approximately 4 sentences about my high school gym and how great it is.

Blink of the eyes and I’m back in my blue circle lunchtable seat with a co-worker…different person than was initially sitting at my table.  She’s gushing and asks me if I gave him one of my business cards.  I hadn’t.  I felt completely deflated and totally elated at the same time.

The dream lasted mere moments in the 5 minutes I snoozed back to sleep after my alarm went off.  Interesting all the things that can transpire in 5 minutes in your brain, isn’t it?

Colder than a witch’s tit?


It was quite frigid outside today…colder than a witch’s tit, some might say.  Where do you suppose that phrase originated, anyway?  If any of you know, please enlighten me.  Please.

I would like to add that my mother used that phrase from time to time.  Hers was different.  Hers goes, ‘Colder than a witch’s tit while doing  push ups in the snow in a brass bra.’  Picture that for a moment.

I, personally, give that crazy witch credit for getting her ass out there.  I give her credit for busting out a workout despite the daunting temperatures.  Pun intended (busted out…get it? bust. Ha!)  Fitness is important.  You need arm strength to stir that giant wooden spoon in the cauldron everyday.  And she obviously needs titty support from something stronger than a regular old sports bra.  She must be busty.  I can’t help but picture a crusty green witch with scrawny little arms and giant brass covered boobs dipping her boobs in the snow piles over and over.  She wears a red, white, and blue sweatband on her forehead, under her pointy, stereotypical black witch hat.  With each upward push she exclaims, ‘Curses!!! Curses!!!’

This witch has dedication and I commend her.  All I want to do when it’s colder than her icy tit is tuck my feet under the dog.

 

Das Legs of das Boots!!


wpid-wp-1420044283123.jpeg Bootlegs Yo!

AH!!!!!!

Now I can relive my local Pearl Jam show and all of Eddie’s smiling little anecdotes all the time.

Every. Single. Fucking. Day. It’s not every day that Eddie Vedder tells the crowd that they’re attending the best show of the whole tour.

This is where I huff a little breath on my fingernails and shine them on my shoulder…

Buttons!


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Just check out these fantastic buttons I received from ‘There will be Buttons’ on Etsy! 

I was browsing the site, trying to find something perfect for my husband, when Lieutenant Dan appeared with his ice cream cone and his headband.  Could it be any more perfect?  I think not.

Of course, to order a single button would be ludicrous.  Why, the $1 spent on the tiny button would be overshadowed by the $2 shipping fee.  And why order one, single, solitary, silly button when there are so many buttons to choose from?

I mean… Nell?? A coy looking Pee Wee?? And Buzz?  I want them all!!

I did not originally want Mr. Rogers, however.  I really wanted this fantastic Wayne’s World quote, but, alas, it was on another button site and I couldn’t get it…without ordering 7-10 buttons from that person.  I might still order it.  I’m not sure yet.  I do love silly buttons. Who am I kidding? I’m probably going to order it today.

Although I’m not sure who else I know loves to wear silly buttons.  Definitely not my husband… but he’s getting Lt. Dan and he’s going to love it.  If only he were just a little more geeky…then I could order all the things that make me giggle and I would giggle all the live long day!!

Thank you, button makers of the world!!

I’m sorry I’m posting your license plate online…


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Yes, I know it probably isn’t very cool to take a picture of someone’s license plate and post it on the internet for all to see….however, a plate like this is just begging for attention!  I was so intrigued by who might create such a clever personalized plate.

I mean, it’s D’Shizzit, right?  Maybe it’s Snoop-D-O-double G!

Or perhaps the driver Dishes it?  Like a lunchlady…or like a prosecuting attorney?

Maybe it’s about a thug robbing jewelry?  ‘Dis Heist!

I could’ve interpreted it all wrong….it could simply be a creative way of spelling Diseased.  That’s a shame.

We name our Christmas trees


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This tradition has been passed down three generations of trees.  A measly three years in human time, yet who knows how long in the land of trees.  It is a tradition I hope survives the test of time, and with proper documentation…in the form of a family ‘tree’ (ha!), I hope that years from now we can look back and giggle a little bit.  In the beginning, it seemed to be a silly little game we played, but now we look forward to it.  The adoption and naming of the tree.

It began three years ago with grandfather tree.  His name: Tree Tree.  Simple, precise, to the point.

His legacy lived on last year through his son: Red Green.  Colorful, upbeat, and festive.

This year, we have a beautiful, majestic, sophisticated tree.  Grand-daughter of Tree Tree, daughter of Red Green…

Treela Pinewood.

 

First lights


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I’m officially one of ‘those’ people.  You know the type, they feel all festive and merry and put up their holiday lights before anyone else to show everyone on the block just how festive they are.  They even put up their lights before Thanksgiving!  Blasphemous!

I’ve never been one of those people.  But this year, I tell ya, I’ve had that holiday spirit thing for over 2 weeks now. 

My justification is that I have kids.  But in all honesty, I’m pretty sure I wrote a post roughly 2 years ago whining grinchily about the holiday season.  The kids existed then. Yeah, I wasn’t feeling it that year.  But last year I watched Home Alone at least 10 times and an assortment of other Christmas cheer movies probably every single day. The spirit crept up on me. This year it’s even worse. 

I even researched into the origins of Christmas so I felt a little less guilty about enjoying it and not being full blown Christian.  I find the spirit of Yule and winter solstice much more appealing.  I read about so many interesting regions and cultures celebrating the change of season in their own way.  I now have a potpurri of new holiday beliefs and traditions.

Saturnalia, you’re drunk…go home. 

So, yes, I put up our lights and I love them. I didn’t turn them on right away… for fear of being one of those people.  I planned on waiting until after Thanksgiving.  Thanksgiving deserves its day.  Then it snowed and everything changed.  Everything changed!  I mean, I just can’t resist now.  It’s like these lights are Skittles and I just can’t resist that sweet rainbow! I find snow illuminated with twinkly lights to be one of my favorite winter time things.