Sunday, April 6, 2014

Two Long Paragraphs About How I Really Love Bisquick and My Kid

I think I've professed my love of Bisquick before and if I haven't I should have because it's really great. I am lazy. I know I've said that before. I use Bisquick for savory stuff way more than I ever make pancakes. I should make pancakes more often because my kid loves them, but while making pancakes is easy, you can't make them all at once. At least I can't, because I don't have a commercial size griddle. So that means you have to make a few, take those out of the pan, then make more (see part above about being lazy). Anyway, the other night I made a Bisquick Impossibly Easy Cheeseburger Pie (here's the recipe), except I used ground turkey, and after the turkey was cooked, I threw in like at least two dry cups of chopped fresh baby spinach and just stirred it around for a bit to wilt it down, then threw a little more heat on to further wilt it. So that's what I put at the bottom of my pie plate. And I always use garlic powder for everything so I threw in garlic powder. And then for my cheese I used some pepper jack cheese and maybe a little mozzarella to mellow it out because I was hoping my kid would eat it but apparently she is just firmly anti-ground turkey. This is what I'm finding out and it makes me sad. She says it would have been great except for the ground turkey so I will hold her to that and make this exact recipe sans turkey. Anyway, after I mixed up the rest of the ingredients, I poured it over the top like it says to do, but then I sort of poked all over the surface to try to let some of the wet stuff sink in, since the last time I made an Impossibly Easy Pie I felt like it was too bread-y on top. Anyway, it was DELICIOUS. I just ate some for breakfast so I wanted to tell you guys that you should have some Bisquick in the house because it can help make dinnertime easy and I don't get paid by Bisquick (I wish!!) to say that. I used the Heart Smart because I'll save calories or fat or whatnot anywhere I can and I'm pretty sure you would never taste the difference between it and regular Bisquick. If you've ever heard of the Joe's Special, it's ground beef, spinach, and eggs (here's a little more info, but not much, because I'm lazy), this concoction would be like that except on a biscuit, pretty much. I didn't take a picture of it but you could Google "impossible spinach pie" and you'll get an idea. Seriously, get some Bisquick. You. Are. Welcome.

Last the night the kid and I were watching Dancing With the Stars. Well, in reality, the kid begrudgingly watched the show with me because it's what I wanted to watch and she happened to be in the mood to hang out with me and it's not that she hates the show or anything, it's just that she could think of about a million other things she'd rather watch. At least this season has James from Big Time Rush, and we've seen them in concert twice so he's a little bit of a selling point. But the episode is 2 hours long at one point she goes, "Is this like, a MARATHON of Dancing With the Stars or something?" She's 8, so 2 hours is like, a pretty long time as far as she's concerned. Anyway, NeNe Leakes is on there. NeNe  and I have some history. Because I watched Real Housewives of Atlanta for a minute and the main reason I gave it up was because she worked my nerves. But then I liked her when she was on The New Normal, which was such a darling little show. So I wasn't sure what to think about her being on DWTS, but well, so far so good, and she's with Tony and I love Tony so I'll keep an open mind and all that. But the point is last night she dedicated the dance to her husband, Greg, and if you watch RHOA you will know she just got married to Greg for the second time. As in they were married, got divorced, then got married again. So they're talking about her story and the kid looks at me and she goes, "They got married twice?" And I'm like, "Yep," and she goes, "Well, that will NEVER be you and Dad." And I start laughing and I go, "You're right, we're like that Taylor Swift song, about we are never ever ever getting back together." And later I said to her, you know what's cool? You get that your dad and I SHOULDN'T be together. And she's like, yes. And I was like, you get that Dad and I were supposed to be your parents, but we were NOT supposed to be married to each other. And she's like yes, and I said, you're probably so used to it being just you and me you wouldn't even want some guy in the house, even if it WAS your dad. And she's like no. Way. And that's why she is so smart. Because she gets that life is imperfect and that in a perfect world, the two people she loves most would have loved each other and made a great couple. But that our world is still perfect because I'm happy and she's happy and we have each other and we like how we roll. Now granted, this could have been so different had she been a lot older when we split. She was just a little older than three at the time. All I know is that I'm so grateful that she likes her world just as it is. It makes me very happy. It makes me feel quite perfect amidst all of life's imperfections.


Tuesday, March 25, 2014

A Short One With Tears About Mom

It hits me like a ton of bricks when it's my first time in a few days that I'm alone. I'm not at work, I'm not with the kid. It's me in the house and I get sad that Mom is gone. So I talk out loud to the air, that I wish she was here. And then I get busy and get a bunch of stuff done even before I sit down to drink coffee and feel like I'm rocking this time before I go to work. And then I read this beautiful email from one of Mom's friends and she says,

"The world is a smaller place without her." And I just fucking lose it. Because it really, and truly, and most definitely is. 

I will always endeavor to be happy. I'm just never going to be as happy as I was when she was here.

There will always be light, it's just not as bright. And that's life.

Live every day with joy and happiness, like, totally. But we have a few key companions on this journey, and once they're gone, it can never be the same. We mustn't think it will ever go back to normal, because it won't. There is only the clich├ęd "new normal." But that's the only way to put it.

So that's where I am. I miss her. I want to call her and tell her about this amazing picture that the kid drew, and more than that, this ridiculously creative story she wrote that goes with it. My goodness, she's so bright and she's so creative and fabulous, and I so miss sharing that with Mom. Or sharing the silly conversations that the kid and I have, because when I made my mom laugh, like a really good laugh, oh my gosh, how I loved it. I loved laughing with her. I miss it and her hugs and knowing that she could always make me feel like everything will be okay.

And everything will be okay. So she let me know that enough that I know it's true.

But man. How I miss her.

Be good to each other. Be so good and positive in the world that you are ridiculously missed.

Thursday, February 6, 2014


My mom passed away on Wednesday, January 29, 2014. She was my best friend. The first one I called for whatever. The good, the bad, the meaningless, the meaningful. She was my shoulder for crying, she was my arms for hugging. My cheerleader, and yes, the proverbial wind beneath my wings. All of these things and so much more. A beautiful person with a beautiful heart who was loved and enjoyed by so many.

I keep thinking of that scene in Four Weddings and a Funeral, at the funeral, when Matthew is eulogizing his beloved Gareth, and he quotes this part of the W. H. Auden poem, Stop all the clocks (Funeral Blues):

"He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong"

Mom was my everything. My kid is also my everything: Mom was my other everything. My other other half.

My compass, moral and otherwise. My tether. The thing helping to hold me to the ground, to a center. Right now I feel I'm floating.

Everything goes on... I mother, I cook, I eat, I exercise, I laugh with my friends, I watch TV, I sleep. But it all feels different. It doesn't feel normal. It feels like things about which I'd look forward or get excited hover just above the ground... I still feel the excitement but there is something hollow there, too. It's not as exciting. It's not as funny. It doesn't feel as special.

I know that this part, the part where I'm missing her, the part where I feel that nothing is quite right, that this part will hurt less and feel less weird. I'm not there yet. I'm heading toward new new normal. New normal started in October of 2012 when Dad died. So now it's new new normal.

There is no way to make this neat and tidy. No way to just get over this part that feels so sad and hollow and get to the other side. It's only time that will get me there.

I keep saying to people it's one day at a time. It's more like one hour at a time. One minute, even.

And my brain is like full of what I picture as ping pong balls, that rattle around and bounce up and down and I never know which one will come up. One ball says, "I had her for forty three years. I'm so lucky. Think of people who lose their moms when they're twenty. Or when they're little kids. I'm so very blessed to have had her for a long as I did." Another ball pops up and says, "Cancer sucks so much ass. It didn't even have a fair fight. What kind of bullshit is it that we found out about the cancer in October and it closed down her stomach in December so she couldn't even eat for the last month of her life? What kind of ridiculous unfair nonsense is that when she was the best person I've ever known?"  And yet another ball pops up that says, "I miss my mommy. I want to call her. I want to go to her house and just lay my head on her chest and hug her and stay there, all day and all night long. I want my mommy." No, I was not able to type that line without crying. Without sitting here at the computer, sobbing by myself.

It's my first day alone with my thoughts. The kid stayed home with me the day after Mom died. Then we had her field trip. Then the weekend. Then three days out of school with a head cold. So now she's back to school and it's me in my house at the computer, just me, the computer, some coffee and my brain. So I guess that's why I had to do this today. 

I cannot say how much my support people have helped me throughout all of this. My family. My brother in particular. My kid who fills me with love and joy and laughter always. My friends. My special best friends, my lovenet. My friends who have fed me, emotionally and literally. My friends who have been where I am. Who have lost their mommies or their mommies and their daddies and who show me strength and inspire me and make me know that I won't always feel so lost. I won't always feel as if I'm floating in a bad way. Without these people, I don't know what I would do. I just know this process would be that much harder.

I can only end this part of my journey with the way we ended most of our phone calls, with a back and forth that went something like this. Silliness that evolved, I believe, from my brother making fun of me and Mom for some kind of goodbye exchange.

I love you best.
I love you most.
Back crack big Mac.
Give your dog a bone.
Give YOUR dog a bone.

And I also told her I loved her to the moon. And back, and up and down and flip around.

And I always will. 

Sunday, December 22, 2013

The One Where I Quietly (or Not So Quietly) Yell and Maybe Lose Friends

Two days in a row I find myself needing to unload. So here I go.

Being Christian does not make you always right. Saying that x, y, or z goes against the Bible or your understanding of the Bible or the Bible that is used by your religion doesn't make it okay for you to condone and support and even celebrate intolerance.

We have all these Facebook pages popping up to support Phil Robertson because A & E fired him for lines like this in his recent GQ Magazine interview, the text of which can be found in its entirety here:

“We never, ever judge someone on who’s going to heaven, hell. That’s the Almighty’s job. We just love ’em, give ’em the good news about Jesus—whether they’re homosexuals, drunks, terrorists. We let God sort ’em out later, you see what I’m saying?”
So for him to lump gays in with terrorists is okay. Because we are ALL anti-terrorists. But don't you know that terrorists terrorize because WE are not following along with THEIR idea about religion?

Is this parallel lost on you? And by you, I mean those think it's cool to throw gays in with terrorists and those who think it's okay for Phil Robertson to say whatever he wants in a PUBLIC FORUM but it's NOT OKAY for his employer to can him over it.

People. That don't make no kind of sense.

And this gem, about how black folks seemed to have it good back in the day:

Phil On Growing Up in Pre-Civil-Rights-Era Louisiana
“I never, with my eyes, saw the mistreatment of any black person. Not once. Where we lived was all farmers. The blacks worked for the farmers. I hoed cotton with them. I’m with the blacks, because we’re white trash. We’re going across the field.... They’re singing and happy. I never heard one of them, one black person, say, ‘I tell you what: These doggone white people’—not a word!... Pre-entitlement, pre-welfare, you say: Were they happy? They were godly; they were happy; no one was singing the blues.”

Do I even need to say that this is such a ridiculously ignorant thing to say in 2013 in a space for all to read? Do I have to say this to you?

You don't have to march in a parade. You don't have to adopt a gay person like you would a needy child off the TV via UNICEF. No one is asking you to host an "invite a gay and a black person to dinner" night. And no one cares what you are talking about in your houses with your friends. You can not like whomever you want. You can think that being gay is unnatural immoral and should be illegal. And that black folks had it good back in the day.

What it makes no sense for you to do is be up in arms because one man said this stuff in a public forum and his employer, who happens to be a TV network, with millions of people who watch that network decided that he is not someone they want in his employ.

Guess what would have happened had Phil said that at his house to Miss Kay while they were playing cards or wrapping gifts? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

I'm up in arms because I LIKE DUCK DYNASTY. My girlfriend literally just gave me Duck Dynasty pint glasses that say "Happy Happy Happy." I bought my Mom ******CHRISTMAS SPOILER ALERT***** the Si-cology book for Christmas. I'm up in arms because Phil did not know the difference between expressing honest opinions and saying stuff that is inflammatory and engenders hate IN FRONT OF A WORLDWIDE AUDIENCE, not with this buddies while on a hunting trip. I'm pissed off that maybe the whole dang show is going to be gone when it has brought a lot of laughs and joy AND good messages about family to people. So THAT'S WHAT WE SHOULD BE PISSED OFF ABOUT. Not that A & E canned him. But that Phil, in that interview, was Phil at his HOUSE and not Phil TALKING TO A MAGAZINE.

Thanks for letting me yell about this.

Saturday, December 21, 2013

ENOUGH ALREADY! It's Bleeping Christmas So Let's Try Being NICE!!!!

My heart is broken all over the place. Because I have heavy shit going on in my life, some real and big and ridiculously formidable, and some not so much. And then I just see so much hate and vitriol and hostility all over my Facebook.

I'm so f#$king over it.

Here is the thing. Everyone has a right to their opinion. But when did we get to this place of being so IT'S US AGAINST THEM. We vote this way, WE ARE THE GOOD GUYS. So the other guys ARE THE BAD BAD BAD BAD BAD GUYS.

Calm the eff down, people.


Look, every single administration has probably had something that got bleeped up, right? Sometimes there is a Democrat in office. Other times there is a Republican. I have been voting since 1988 and for almost half the time the guy for whom I voted did not win. Them is the breaks, as they say.

I'm not a "political" person. I don't pay attention to what is going on in the world. I don't watch the news. I go to work, I care for my family, I care about their happiness and the happiness of my friends. I care about being a good person and trying to do the right thing.

During the time that a President was in office who I did not like who was doing stuff I did not like, no amount of complaining about it was going to change anything. It was not going to change my life. It was not going to affect how much I loved my daughter or make my ex-husband less of a jerk or change how much I hated or loved my job at the time.

If you are trying to convince me that the wrong guy is in office with ongoing spewing of hate and hostility and worse, IT'S NOT WORKING.

Do you know what I LOVE? I love facts. I like knowing THE WHOLE STORY. Not just to see snarky posts about one sliver of one problem that blows it up into THE WORST THING THAT EVER HAPPENED EVER.

I am not someone who picks my friends based on their beliefs. I work in an industry that is by and large conservative. I on the other hand, am not. I. Don't. Judge. I don't judge you for how you vote. I judge you by how you live and how you work and how you treat other people.

I'm not saying that just my conservative friends are doing this, they're just the ones AT THIS MOMENT IN TIME with the biggest gripes. I'm am anti-hate. I'm anti-stuff that presents narrow viewpoints. Because there are so many people in the world who are not critical thinkers and they just see one thing and they go ALL ABOARD THE HATE TRAIN! LET'S GO!

All I want, and this sounds crazy as all get out, is to let there be peace on Earth and to let that shit begin with me. I'm not even kidding. Like, look, let's get our stuff worked out. Let's figure this out. As those guys say on Wonder Pets, what's gonna work? TEAMWORK. Seriously and truly and for real.

Not hate and divisiveness. It just doesn't work. Period.

photo credit:

If you are reading this and you think I'm talking about you, then you may be right. And if you find yourself wallowing in negativity and the urge to constantly share it, then try maybe taking a week or two off and see if you feel better and if the people around you smile more because you're not dwelling on that stuff.

I'm. Just. Saying. Give it a whirl.

Thanks for listening to me.

I was gonna do a post about how I sort of had a mid-life crisis and cut all my hair off (my awesome hair dude sort of talked me into it and I decided with everything I have faced in the last couple of years to be afraid of cutting my hair is just STUPID) so here's a picture of me and I would have left my sexy friend in the pic who took this picture but who knows if she wants her face all up in my crazy ass blog.

My daughter is in HELLA mourning over my hair. She's only ever known me with a bunch more hair. Hopefully she will get a little bit used to it because I kinda dig it and I think it's gonna help with my hot flashes, too.

Merry Christmas, to every single one of you.

photo credit:
my fave of all those stop motion Christmas shows from the '70s

Saturday, November 30, 2013

I'm Fat, and You're Not. Good For You.

People who inspire me don't feel the need to point out that this group or that group shouldn't be getting positive media attention (here's the article and video about "Fit Mom" that made me do this post that started out as a Facebook status that was getting to long). I don't think it should get you kicked off Facebook, I just think it makes you kind of obnoxious if you can't just revel in how freaking awesome you look and that you accomplished that and that you're inspiring some people. Not me, because while many people inspire me this lady is not one of them.

photo credit:
I kinda love this shirt so much right now I could marry it

If I looked like this lady, I would spend all the livelong day clothes shopping and having noookie during which time I would turn cartwheels and bend myself into every conceivable position known to mankind, much to the pleasure of the luckiest man in the world, my partner. I mean, I guess even the shopping and constant nookie would get boring after a while, but I don't see when I would have the time to look for people to put down or to be concerned that too many people admire them. COME. THE EFF. ON.

And I guess it's because I've been there. I'm there now. I know it's hard. I don't know this lady's story when it comes to a partner or a job or whatever but I know it can be extra hard if you're a single mom. Or you're a single mom and do shift work. Or if you are a single mom and do shift work and ever spent some of your time helping to care for a parent. Or deal with an ex with a shit ton of problems. And I guess the deal is that these aren't excuses, they're just life. I don't make excuses. I know at anytime I can just say fuck it. I'm on it. I'm eating right. I'm getting up before work to exercise. I'm going to do it all right because I KNOW how to do it. I just haven't yet, at least recently.

photo credit:
I had to post this because it had me cracking up

While trying to Google images that might work in this post, I came across this post by The Militant Baker who just might be one of the most awesome bloggers upon whom I've ever had the fortune to stumble and I plan to devour a bunch more of her stuff. In the meantime, this is just AWESOME.

I'm fat right now is because of me. Because I've had a hot body and I know how I got there before. I know the reasons I overeat, and I know that every day is the day I hope that I'll turn my shit around. Hell, it could be today, who knows. But in the meantime I sure as hell will find lingerie that I can rock should the need arise to rock some lingerie. I'm. Just. Saying.


Saturday, November 9, 2013

The 100 Word Story With No Title

So Her Supreme Awesomeness over at The Klonopin Chronicles posted this thing on Facebook about a 100 word story contest and said she was gonna give that exercise a whirl on account of having probably written 100 word sentences before and I was like, I should try that, too, on account of having also probably written 100 word sentences my own damn self. So I didn't enter the contest but I wrote this and I don't have a title. I suck with titles. Oh, and I posted it here because I haven't posted anything in a long ass time. Because dang, I've been busy and stuff, yo. But that's a post for another time.

By the way, that first sentence was only 63 words.

The 100 Word Story Without a Title

Imagine a life in which one takes responsibility for nothing. Everything is someone else’s fault. Every problem is due to circumstance and misfortune and not the fact that one's personality has unraveled and deteriorated to the point that they feel they owe nothing to anyone. Not even when they owe so much to so many. What must it be like to be unfettered by societal rules where one reaps what one sows and one gets what one gives and instead to take and never give. Imagine what it is like to be in the orbit of that person. It’s awful.

It's kind of a bummer of a story but it's what came to mind in that moment. I could totally do a 100 word happy story but this was the one that needed to come out today, I think.