clickmom

Sally's lucky

I let Evan use my point and shoot for a class assignment (he is taking photography, but has only asked me for use of my camera, not actual advice) and he changed the settings on my camera.  He changed the settings on the very same camera I used this weekend, when all three kids were home before college boy Matt fled back to hipster U.)  to take my holiday card photo.  I suppose noone will notice if I print up teeny tiny little photos.  Maybe I can do one of those little photo collages of 1 inch stamp sized photos.  I suspect they'd be pixelated even at 4 x 6.  Maybe I can get away with a 3 x 5.  Just shoot me now.  Matt doesn't come home until December 20th.  I might forgo the cards this year.  I have no idea where the packers put my address book anyway and I don't have addresses in my phone, only phone numbers.  I know.  Lame.

Have I ever admitted to the sad truth that hearing football on the television makes me want to throw bricks into the television?  I can't help it, those manly men talking about sport, like it matters, like it seriously matters ....it's all so ridiculous.  I can hardly take it.  That is why I am going to retire early tonight.  Monday night football is forcing me to take to my bed.  That and the other sad truth which is I have been walking around with a very real desire to spend hours lounging on my bed, maybe reading, maybe watching real stories and not sports on television.  In a perfect world (at least temporarily) I'd settle in for the night around 8 and lounge for a couple of hours before sucking ZZZZs for the night.

Yesterday I used the term "gang busters" while discussing the tenacity of my nephew's opposing hockey team during a very heated and excited play off game.  I think my grandmother has taken over my mind.  I have no other excuse.  That would also explain why I have been tempted to stroll through the stores "just to look."   If I start snacking on Mary Jane's you'll  know it's true.

I need a new photo project.  The lack of subject matter has me down and I think I'l have to wait for spring for some real selection.  There was a bird this weekend up in utopia, but the sentry didn't mention it to me until hours after she saw it and by the time I got to it it was completely unrecognizably flattened.  Not what I am going for.  I'll figure something out.  First I have to decide if I want to stay with this theme.  If I was Sally Mann I'd get to photograph actual dead people.  She's so lucky.

 

fake food

One benefit of having Thanksgiving for 23 people is that I completely forgot about the whole suing situation for two entire days.  The benefit of being sued by the incredibly difficult, petty spoiled brat couple that bought your beloved house, which you hand picked every detail of right down to the door knobs, and can't believe you are now living in a builder generic house with a kitchen sink in a doorway and the cheapest door knobs on the market, is that you and your husband's mutual hatred for the nasty people who are occupying your beloved ex-house can really bring the two of us together as we rub our palms together and plan our revenge.  Those kids are going to rue the day they dreamed about throwing the first punch.  

All in all I had a very productive weekend.  I pulled out about 70 photos that still get me excited and Matt helped me select twenty of them for the online portfolio for Y@le.  I would like to get a second opinion, but I am not getting response from my old photo teacher.  I asked her to write me a recommendation, and I'm worried that she isn't going to come through for me.  I might see if there is a photo teacher at the art center around here that consults.

I also made some head way on my artist statement.   I wrote one for myself, Matt tore it apart.  In a constructive way.   I heard there is a person out there who writes artist statements for artists and I'm not sure if that would be cheating or not.  The 500 word limit is might just be my biggest challenge. (No surprise there!)   I've also never read an artist statement that I didn't think was as hokey as could be.  This is part of my problem.

Things I realized this weekend.  One: Not everyone loves cranberry sauce as much as I do.  It may have been overenthusiastic to buy and make 6 pounds of fresh cranberries into sauce.  Same goes for the ten pound bag of carrots.  Two: Sometimes your guests are all on a diet and 40 pounds of turkey plus 12 pounds of stand alone turkey breast means you are going to be defrosting brined turkey breasts for sometime.  Three:  People will eat crap.  They will even fore sake fresh homemade goodness for cheap mass produced tasteless faux food.  I'm tempted to host a dinner party and serve only faux food.  I'm thinking that maybe next year I'll pour a can of condensed soup on some green beans, toss it with faux onion rings and serve it up.  Maybe I can find some red glaze shake and bake just to enhance the artificial food theme. And finally Four:  Having virtually no family makes me sad.  It was lil sis' turn to have thanksgiving with her in laws, so I had no blood representation beyond my kids.  I'm going to campaign my step sisters to come next year.  I want to be surrounded by my own people.

this is messed up

I've spent the last day and half going back and forth between wanting to bawl and wanting to punch a wall.  Are you ready for this?  The extremely difficult house buyers that bought our beloved stepford house are suing us!  Why? Because the house flooded.  During hurricane Irene.  When every single house in the entire neighborhood flooded.  And they were without power for a week with no back up generator to charge the sump pump off of.   Now here is the deal.  That basement NEVER flooded on us.  We did not hide anything from them.  And we are not going to pay them a dime.  We will however end up paying lawyers many many many dimes in our efforts to not pay those most difficult house buyers a single dime.  I'm trying not to hate them, because hating feels so bad, is so bad for me,  and it is such an ugly thing to do but DAMMIT I HATE THEM.  The part of this that really really bites is that if the husband and I had a bought a house that had flooded during the unprecedented hurricane of this fall which knocked the entire east coast flat on it's ass we'd be sitting here kicking ourselves for buying an old house but we would never even think of suing the people who sold the house because we know that shit happens, and we are grown up enough to know that sometimes it is nobody's fault.  It just burns me that we are going to have to spend a ton of money defending ourselves.   It's so messed up.

tan your bear pelt

Josh is standing at the sink in a doorway, peering towards the family room and he leans forward and calls to Evan with this suggestion "Tan your bear pelt!"  

Totally threw me for a minute

until I realized Evan was discreetly playing Skyrim.  I've got 21st century children.

need chestnuts

Totally bummed that the latest new town chiro was a complete and total bust.  That is three sub par chiros so far.  Spoke to my stepford chiro about it and he gave me some suggestions on how to find and question more potential support people around here.  The search continues.  I'll have to have separate providers for the traditional chiro care and the extra stuff he did.  I didn't realize that kinesiology is more of a secret underground kind of practice.  Oh hell.  I can't do anything the easy way, can I?   I just figured it was a totally cool non invasive tool for all that ails me.   Frick.

I'm getting all down and anxious about the holidays being around the corner.  On the one hand I'd like to get 8 gifts for everyone. On the other hand that means 40 gifts (As if anyone would ever buy me gifts!  I'm taking care of me this year.)  if all 5 of us get 8 gifts, and I don't want 40 new pieces of junk around the house.  What to do?    There is always book night and clothing night.  I did pick up a couple of things for Josh today.  He was with me at a craft fair, so that was easy.  I also picked up a couple of things for myself.  I was not kidding about taking care of myself.  I felt really gypped at the last round of gift giving events (valentine's day, 20th anniversary, birthday, mother's day) so I decided to show myself a little bit of love this season.  So far I'm getting a bird pendant necklace and a little ceramic house with a little ceramic bird on top.  I'm really into birds right now.  I wish I could spot more dead ones lying around! 

Did I mention that the Y@le tour made me want to go to Y@le even more than I did last week?  The photo professors and students kept warning people how brutal the critiques were and I almost fainted over the happiness of imagining a brutal critique.  I hope they scared some people away.  Almost 80 people showe dp on just that day for the tour. They only take 10 people a year.  I'd rather have less competition.  Good thing I heard were that they are not looking for one specific philosophy of photography because I was concerned that my stuff might be too traditional (except for the manner in which I get me subject matter) looking.

I wrote out my Thanksgiving shopping list today.  I was sad sad sad to realize that my favorite chestnuts in madiera sauce recipe would not interpret dairy free since it is heavy on the cream.  Dammit.  I might have to eat dairy on Thursday.  I was even going to roast my own chestnuts this year.  Not on an open fire though.  I'm more of a warm oven/cookie sheet kind of girl.

Tomorrow is my long awaited tour of Y@le!!!

Tomorrow is my long awaited tour of Y@le!!!   Woo Hoo!!

I am three days of super clean eating (including vegetable juicing) and I am already feeling so much better.  It's a shame that I can't really tell how awful I end up feeling when not eating well until I clean up my act again.  If only I'd feel crippling pain instead of just incredibly lousy maybe  I would be more consistent with the good eating.  Or maybe not, the intensity of my food addiction amazes me, and I'm the one making all the poor choices for myself.  

Tomorrow is my long awaited tour of Y@le!!!   Yippee!!!!

The clean eating has not come easily.  It's been a struggle.  I've been yearning for anything high carb or sweet.  I almost fainted when someone offered me a cup of (sugar) apple juice tonight.  I pretended I was disappointed it wasn't wine, but the truth is that if no one was looking I could have easily grabbed the half gallon bottle of (sugar) juice and chugged it right down.

Tomorrow is my long awaited tour of Y@le!!!   Screeeeeee!!!!!!!

More good news around here is that I may have found a new chiro with the blessed power of kinesiology behind him.  I mentioned to another dog walking dog owner (walking bear bait is sometimes my only social interaction of the day so I make sure to be super friendly with the other dog walkers)  that I am going through my yearly adrenal/thyroid deficiency and my hair has been falling out and my feet are so cold it hurts and I wish I could see my old stepford chiro because he does magical kinesiology and wakes my dilapidated glands back up and puts me back ont he right track and she said she knew someone around here that did both too!  You know I made that call within minutes of arriving home and I'm going to pay this new chiro a visit tomorrow before I head off for 

my long awaited tour of Y@le!!!  (Hurray!!!) 

and hopefully this new chiro will be even better than the old chiro and all my multitude of aches and pains will be better!  That would be so wonderful.  I need the support.  Cross your fingers for me, okay?

Hey, did I mention that   .... Tomorrow is my long awaited tour of Y@le!!! ????   Whoop!  Whoop!

I can't even think of anything else.  I'm so excited.  

 

 

craptastic

I ate myself into feeling terrible.  

Really, I've been a bad path since July when the kids came home from camp.  I started off the summer strong, drinking tons of fresh made vegetable juice, using mostly greens, feeling great, walking bear bait 4 miles a day, losing some pounds, and then I didn't just lose my momentum I shifted into reverse and suddenly that marshmallow stash that I had been ignoring all summer started calling my name, and so did the giant jar of honey, and then I started to grab some gluten here and there, and even dairy, until I could barely walk down the stairs, and then I'd snap out of it, and eat clean but too much too sugar, and then another temptation would rear it's ugly head and I'd eat it.

What the hell?

Today, back on the wagon.  Again.  For the millionth time.  One of these days the healthy patterns are going to stick.  Since moving to new town, I've gained about 12 pounds, and even had a mild gall bladder attack one night.  Hello?  Talk about a wake up call.  I feel overwhelmingly physically crappy I'm in shock.  Really me?  I let things get this out of control?  I think I've had so much sugar that I have high blood pressure.  Either that or salt.  (We have a cuff int he house from when the husband was sick last spring)   I'm going to clean up my diet for a couple of weeks and if I don't respond fast enough with normal blood pressure, or at least vastly improved blood pressure, I'm going to have to find a new town doc.  I've been dreading the new doctor search.  

It's all about stress.  I'm riddled with anxiety, to the point where I fantasize about taking some pill.  Then I eat.  I don't take pills, so I don't even know what pill I'd take, but if there was a pill that could cut the anxiety without making me sleep walk through the day I'd think about taking it.  Then I wouldn't take it, let's be real, it would be just like the whole bottle of strong narcotic pain relief I had sitting on my bathroom sink until it expired and never took one because I fear the side effects and not being able to wake up in the morning.    And addiction.  

Did I ever tell you that grandma had a prescription drug addiction going on there for a while?  She'd go from doctor to doctor complaining about some kind of pain.  She knew what she wanted.  She'd dope herself up for days at a time.  She wouldn't leave the house.   She'd sleep all day and night.  Then she got dementia and forgot.  

My addiction?  Sugar, fat, carbs.  Really, anything processed.  I'm mad at myself.  And my hips hurt.  F-ing dairy.

obsessed with Y@le and paint colors

I think I might have hives.  I'm so worried about having hives, which I haven't had since I was a child,  that I pulled off all of my finger nails.  Yup.  Right down to the quick.  Dumb thing to do when the primary feeling of my day is "itchy."  It is not possible to find sweet scratching relief with the pads of your fingers only.  File that one away just in case you wake up one day covered with pink itchy spots.  Fingers out of your mouth!  Save the nails! 

In other news, I started my Y@le application online today!  Yippee!  I have to write an artist's statement for my application.  You'd think this might be a piece of cake for someone like me, who can write and write until the pads of her nail-less fingers are blistered.  My statement is supposed to include influences, interests, a brief life history, my current direction, and my reason for applying to Y@le graduate school.  I could write a freaking mini novel on my influences alone!  And here is the bad news.  I am supposed to keep this statement to 500 words OR LESS.  Ha ha ha ha.  500 words? Obviously, the good folks at Y@le haven't met me yet.  I am going to suggest that since I am (probably more than) twice as old as the average applicant I should probably have a 1,000 word recommendation, which I may or may not choose to follow due to my advanced age and bad ass hello peri-menopause attitude.  Don't you think?  It seems fair to me, twice the life experience twice the verbiage.  (Oh, they so so so haven't met me yet!) 

I also have to get to work on my portfolio.  I checked out some of the main Y@le guys' work on line today and think that between my little creepy kid portrait series from spring 2010 and some of the more gruesome/graphic of the road kill photos,  along with the more ethereal abstract macro shots I might be in good shape.  I'd hate to go out there and tailor shots just for their approval, so I'm not going to.  I'm going to use what I have already done.  I just want them to take me!  TAKE ME Y@LE!!!  I don't want to have to reapply again next year.  I'm ready to jump in there and go full speed ahead.  This is going to be a very long and agonizing process.  First I have to make through the first hurdle- and then if they are interested in me, I have to submit the same portfolio that they have only seen on line (and everything looks better on a screen when it is back lit)  in person during an interview.  Oh faint.  When was the last time I had to do an interview?  1989?  I'm going to dress a little eccentric if I make it to the interview.  Definitely all in black.  And I'm not talking about my gym pants either.

First hurdle:  Application.  It's due January 4th and I'd like to get it in around mid December.  No use waiting for the last minute.  I'll find out if I make it to the next round in mid-February.  I might need some prescription strength help to make it through from December until February.   Hello, Anxiety!

In other news:  I think I may have found a paint color solution for my new new town family room.  The previous home owners left it a dull lifeless greenish beige color, which makes the tan colored fireplace look depressed.  Can you imagine depressed rocks?  It's not a pretty sight.   I got a sample of a paint color called caramel today, which looked great during the day and now that there is no light left in the sky it looks more like peanut butter than caramel, but I think it still works.  (At least I think it's a good color while I am looking through the see through paint container)  Tomorrow I'll be painting the caramel paint onto a big piece of cardboard and thumb tacking the caramel colored paint sample up in different locations around the room for a double check.  I'm also going to do the same thing with my old stepford house colors in the dining room and entry way, but in stepford I had beautiful oak or cherry mission style wood trim and paneling all over the house and here there is painted colonial style wood trim, and I know my old colors are going to look different surrounded by different colors.  Fingers crossed.  I loved my old house.  I miss my old house a lot today.  Actually I miss my old house a lot every day.  I don't want to be a whiny baby about it, but I'm not having the easiest time settling into this new house.  

Maybe I'll build a new house with the money I make when I get my MFA from Y@le and everyone wants my art in their lives and I make it big!   Wouldn't that be nice?

need power, water and ceiling

I walked bear bait with a new new town friend this morning.  I walked to her house and then we walked around and then we ended up back at her house and I walked back to my house.  We live about a mile and a half away from each other.  All told bear bait and I ended up walking at a nice clip for 3 straight hours.   I'm a bit sore tonight, mostly in the hips.  Not happy about the soreness.  I was thinking that maybe I'd start walking for hours a day every day. Not sure why I'd choose endless walking as a goal.  I think I just need a mission.    Or a replacement for the posh club.  Then I remembered how winter is around the corner and how rapidly I'm turning int o a little old lady who hates the cold so endless walking will have to happen either on a treadmill or next spring.

Peanut is spending the night and I'm really excited.  She's coming late and leaving early because she has something to do thursdays that is a wee bit closer to new town than to stepford, so she wants to go there from here.  If her commute works I'm going to try to convince her to spend the whole day here next wednesday.

Evan's concussion is worse than it appeared to be the day after the helmet to helmet incident.  I took him to new town doctor and Evan, in a very manly way,  said he had no side effects at all.  Except that a few hours later when he tried to do some reading for school he had to rest his eyes every once in a while because he keeps getting headaches.  Also, he can't hop off the couch too fast or he gets dizzy.   I want to declare his football career over.  I just don't think brain injuries are acceptable.  It's not like he wants to be a football player when he grows up.  He needs that amazing brain to be the billionaire business mogul that he plans on being.  I called the school nurse this morning to tell her what was going on incase he ended up in her office later in the day and she advised me to keep him home. So I did.

I've got to get my studio up and running.  I need power and a sink (and a ceiling to cover the pink insulation that I would prefer not breath fibers off of)  in the basement because I'll be setting up in there in this new house.   Yuck.  I hate basements.  I like new town 10 times better than stepford, but I gave up so much in the house department to get  here that it makes me want to cry.  I'm ordering new sinks for the dumb bathrooms that have no place to stash a roll of freaking toilet paper.  I would like to kick the builder (that built this house) in the balls.  It would be justified.  Totally.

Also, one more week until I get my tour of Y@le!!  I can't wait.  Cross your fingers for me!

 

 

refilling

I troll around a little on some of the web sites that the boys look at so I know what they are talking about.  It works most of the time.

The other day Josh tried to make a scumbag steve reference joke.  Judging by the bulging eyeballs, red face, forehead vein pop and hanging wide open mouth on the husband's face, I'd say he was just about 10 seconds of total shock asphyxiation when I jumped in and saved Josh's arse.  Josh didn't really know that 10 year old kids shouldn't say scumbag.  These things can happen when a kid has two much older brothers.

Today Josh was playing minecraft on line and talking to a friend on speaker phone about it when he made a "Midnight train to Georgia" joke, which flew way over the friend's head.   The friend had no idea.  So Josh said he wished that the speakers on his lap top were working so he could play some music for the friend.  The friend played a song on his computer and it occurred to me that it might not have been to Josh's social advantage to raise him on a steady diet of my personal choice, 70's top 40 music, when Josh started to sing along with the current pop hit the friend was playing.  Not sure how Josh did it, but I am sure glad he managed to overcome that stifling music hurdle.

The high school trainer called me about 15 minutes before Evan's football practice was over tonight.  Evan has a head injury.  Luckily I had to open a brand new bottle of wine so I could use 1/4 cup of it in my dinner preparations.  Evan might be seeing rainbows out of the corner of his eyes, but I have a lamp shade on my head.  

(No, seriously, I called the pediatrician who is not worried at all since Evan didn't puke or black out)

Refill!