Boring Saturday Update
Feb. 24th, 2008 01:49 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
devilgrrlSometimes it really amazes me how incredibly dull my life is. It's comfortable, like fleece pants, but it's not exactly something you'd wear out in public, unless it was a quick trip to the shops. I'm not dissatisfied with it, but reading my entries must be like watching paint dry sometimes because it's dull, dull, dull, stretch of now entries, dull, DRAMAZ!, dull.
This definitely was not how I pictured my life a decade ago. I don't think I'd want the same things now that I did then, but still... Sometimes it's hard to make the two mesh. It reminds me of looking back on my years in Vermont. It's like remembering a movie or hearing about someone else's life. Everything's kind of familiar, but not. There's no emotional connection with anything. That's kind of how I feel about things I wanted in high school. I have the memories, but I can't connect to them anymore.
Jesus, I'm maudlin right now. I blame my unhappy belly. It is full of EVIL.
I did not work on pictures or my painting today. I made a valiant effort, being all showered before noon, but it just died right after. The reason? pandora.com. I wasted my whole day listening to it and my bonus time-suck that is LJ and crafty blogs. It was slightly better than watching television, I suppose, though. I did think about baking a pie, but the bowl wasn't clean and the table succumbed to entropy, so no motivation there. I also considered the following things: sweeping my kitchen floor, cleaning the bedroom, putting dishes away, and working on my portfolio.
I'm in such a slump, it's not even funny. At least my eating is not in a slump or it wasn't till dinner.
Beth, Rich, and Munchkin called to request our company. It was originally going to be tea at Borders, but it ended up becoming a trip to the Old Country Buffet because, since I have never been to one, it became imperative that I eat there on the off chance I die in a meteor accident tomorrow. The nearest one is in Brockton and, lucky for us, all the hoods are rolling at the Randolph Cinemas and we did not have the chance to become the latest shooting victims.
It wasn't bad. It reminded my of Ponderosa, except bigger and everything is one price instead of adding your drink and entree on, if desired. I'm the worst person to go to buffets with because I find less and less I want to eat every single time I go. I horfed down mucho potatoes and spinach salad, but also gave into several fried things and ice cream, so my stomach, after a week of healthy eating, has declared war on me. Despite what Steven says, I am not developing a dairy allergy, I just don't like it that much, and it's the greasy/lardy/fried things that hate my innards.
That aside, friends are good, baby is cute, Steven should really have been born a woman because he's perfect Mommy material while I am really ideal Dad material (Bath? Hosing the kids off in the kiddie pool with some dish detergent will work!*). Plans were extended for Borders later in the week because it was getting past everyone's crib time and my belly, it was plotting.
And that's it. I'm on teh intarwebz, Steven napped, we watched news and SNL because I <3 Tina Fey, and he went to bed. All in all, it was a chill day, which I needed considering I managed to trigger myself good last night.
We wash clothes at my grandfather's sometimes and it's alternately very comforting and upsetting since it's her detergent, the same stuff she used for years, and it smells so much like her house. I'm actually starting to tear up again just thinking about it. A couple nights ago, it was fine. Yesterday, no. I have two bags of her clothes that are sitting in my living room because I can't actually move them or bring myself to go through them. The worst has to be her bathrobe; it still smells like her and I just can't bring myself to do anything with it yet. I'd like to wear it, but I'm afraid it will stop smelling like her. It's been better, recently, but this has been a rough week, being home by myself with nothing to do.
What's it they say? One day at a time?
*True story. My mum went out with a friend once and asked my father to give me a bath before she got home, as well as clean out the kiddie pool. My father decided that he could kill two bird with one stone: child in pool, dishwashing soap to clean the pool, hose, voila! My mother was absolutely livid with him. I was rashy with a head of snarled hair and the pool kept sudsing when we refilled it.
This definitely was not how I pictured my life a decade ago. I don't think I'd want the same things now that I did then, but still... Sometimes it's hard to make the two mesh. It reminds me of looking back on my years in Vermont. It's like remembering a movie or hearing about someone else's life. Everything's kind of familiar, but not. There's no emotional connection with anything. That's kind of how I feel about things I wanted in high school. I have the memories, but I can't connect to them anymore.
Jesus, I'm maudlin right now. I blame my unhappy belly. It is full of EVIL.
I did not work on pictures or my painting today. I made a valiant effort, being all showered before noon, but it just died right after. The reason? pandora.com. I wasted my whole day listening to it and my bonus time-suck that is LJ and crafty blogs. It was slightly better than watching television, I suppose, though. I did think about baking a pie, but the bowl wasn't clean and the table succumbed to entropy, so no motivation there. I also considered the following things: sweeping my kitchen floor, cleaning the bedroom, putting dishes away, and working on my portfolio.
I'm in such a slump, it's not even funny. At least my eating is not in a slump or it wasn't till dinner.
Beth, Rich, and Munchkin called to request our company. It was originally going to be tea at Borders, but it ended up becoming a trip to the Old Country Buffet because, since I have never been to one, it became imperative that I eat there on the off chance I die in a meteor accident tomorrow. The nearest one is in Brockton and, lucky for us, all the hoods are rolling at the Randolph Cinemas and we did not have the chance to become the latest shooting victims.
It wasn't bad. It reminded my of Ponderosa, except bigger and everything is one price instead of adding your drink and entree on, if desired. I'm the worst person to go to buffets with because I find less and less I want to eat every single time I go. I horfed down mucho potatoes and spinach salad, but also gave into several fried things and ice cream, so my stomach, after a week of healthy eating, has declared war on me. Despite what Steven says, I am not developing a dairy allergy, I just don't like it that much, and it's the greasy/lardy/fried things that hate my innards.
That aside, friends are good, baby is cute, Steven should really have been born a woman because he's perfect Mommy material while I am really ideal Dad material (Bath? Hosing the kids off in the kiddie pool with some dish detergent will work!*). Plans were extended for Borders later in the week because it was getting past everyone's crib time and my belly, it was plotting.
And that's it. I'm on teh intarwebz, Steven napped, we watched news and SNL because I <3 Tina Fey, and he went to bed. All in all, it was a chill day, which I needed considering I managed to trigger myself good last night.
We wash clothes at my grandfather's sometimes and it's alternately very comforting and upsetting since it's her detergent, the same stuff she used for years, and it smells so much like her house. I'm actually starting to tear up again just thinking about it. A couple nights ago, it was fine. Yesterday, no. I have two bags of her clothes that are sitting in my living room because I can't actually move them or bring myself to go through them. The worst has to be her bathrobe; it still smells like her and I just can't bring myself to do anything with it yet. I'd like to wear it, but I'm afraid it will stop smelling like her. It's been better, recently, but this has been a rough week, being home by myself with nothing to do.
What's it they say? One day at a time?
*True story. My mum went out with a friend once and asked my father to give me a bath before she got home, as well as clean out the kiddie pool. My father decided that he could kill two bird with one stone: child in pool, dishwashing soap to clean the pool, hose, voila! My mother was absolutely livid with him. I was rashy with a head of snarled hair and the pool kept sudsing when we refilled it.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2008-02-24 08:48 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-02-24 06:41 pm (UTC)My father is not often up for father of the year.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-02-24 12:18 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-02-24 06:43 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-02-24 04:29 pm (UTC)OMG!!! lol that is.... yeah, I soooooo get how livid your mom was!
and i honestly love your entries. they are nowhere near dull to me.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-02-24 06:50 pm (UTC)It was so priceless. He had no idea why what he did was wrong. None.
Another priceless my dad story: I had a bad sinus infection in bronchitis when I was about 8. Mum had a class, so she left me with him. He decided the meds I had weren't good enough, so he would make me what my grandmother used to give him: hot, spiced wine that you sit and breath the steam in from.
My mother was impressed I was sacked out on the couch when she got in until she found out WHY.
(To preface this, my father is foreign born and alcohol + minor didn't occur to him; in his world it was a curative).
(no subject)
Date: 2008-02-24 05:04 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-02-24 06:51 pm (UTC)