Me, Myself and Mommy

I watched this video at about midnight. I was zombie tired, so I’m sure I missed a few major points that this guy was trying to make. I plan to watch it again when I am fresh and alert because this video gives you a lot to think about.

If you have eleven minutes to be philosophical or if you just want to watch this guy sketch cartoons on a white board at rapid speeds, this video is totally worth your time and thoughts.

What do you think?

Brilliant?

Is the world a different place to you now?

Too far out there?

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PS. A big announcement is coming up on September 1, 2010.

I have to apologize for being so pissy on Monday. It was a series of unfortunate events on top of hormones, and when the two mixed together it created a very unstable chemical bomb. The situation has been defused. Tuesday my new bathing suit arrived. It’s a tankini with boy-short bottoms so I no longer have to shave every single day, giving myself the worst razor burn known to man kind. As of yesterday afternoon, the internet had been activated; we now have super-fast internet. Yesterday evening someone finally came to fix the fridge. When I went to bed last night the temperature was still in the “danger zone” so I was a little irritated. However, I am happy to report that when I woke up this morning and got a glass of water it was ice cold – maybe too cold. We are still waiting on our shower to be fixed, but with those other issues resolved I am no longer a ticking bomb.

Also, I have new toys! Maybe their tools? I’m not sure, guess it depends on your perspective as to what qualifies as a tool.

Behold!

No it’s not one of those fancy front loader washers or one of those steaming dryers, but it’s brand spanking new and it’s all mine. The really fancy stuff wasn’t in the budget, plus I’ve heard some iffy things about those fancy front loaders. I hear that they are not as effective and cleaning your clothes as a top loader.

Look at all those buttons!

When we left Virginia, we left our crummy, broken, disgusting vacuum. Less than 24 hours after we arrive in Atlanta we went out and purchased this bad boy.

We got the smaller model so I could lug it up and down the stairs when Steve isn’t home. Plus look how cut it is.

So are these toys or tools? And if they are tools why can’t I deduct them off of my taxes as a “business expense”? It is after all my business to keep the house clean and the family happy and healthy.

In other news, I have a problem…

Moanna found one of her old binkis this morning, and has popped it in her mouth. First, that’s gross. There is no telling where that thing has been. Second, I hope she isn’t going into relapse. When she say the look on my face when she walked in the room with it she said, “It’s just for pretend.” I figured we all visit the unhealthy parts of our pasts, and it would be hypocritical to deny her of that guilty pleasure. It’s kind of like going through a box of old high school memories or stuffing your face with deliciously bad for you food after being on a healthy diet for months. I’ll let her play with it today, and then tomorrow it’s time to put that thing back in the past. I do admit that my heart melted a little bit remembering her toddling around with her binki.

One of the fears I had when I found out we were moving so far from the people I knew and loved was the fear of being alone, the fear of loneliness. I don’t do isolation well, and it makes me feel very vulnerable. While I deeply enjoy and crave, require even, having time to myself, long term aloneness becomes a scary place for me. When I am alone for too long, and have run out of ways to entertain myself I get bored and my thoughts drift to the places that I bury deep inside of me where no one can find them, including myself.

I knew that moving to a place where I literally knew no one would require me to spend a lot of time alone. I’d be responsible for keeping myself entertained and motivated. To avoid loneliness, I would have to get good at being alone. Knowing myself as well as  I do, I knew that I would medicate my loneliness with staying busy and overwhelming myself with tasks. It would take a lot of conscious effort to be still and quiet.

I found this video this morning on a blog I read from time to time. It was exactly what I needed, at exactly the time I needed it. This short video is all about being alone, and it’s beautiful.

How do you do alone? Are you comfortable with solitude or are you afraid of what you might find inside yourself? How do you spend time with  yourself?

*When I saw the date this video was published on the internet I smiled. It was published right before we loaded up the truck to leave Virginia.

I began using my Neutrogena Ultrasheer Liquid Sunblock over the Holiday Weekend. I knew I was going to be outside most of the time, so I wanted to give this sunscreen a run for its money.

I’ll admit I was a bit surprised by how small the bottle was, but once I started rubbing it on my face, neck, arms and so on I realized how little it took to get the job down. The liquid was light and did not have the “sun screen smell.” Initially, it felt a little sticky after rubbing it in, but after a few minutes the feeling went away and my skin felt soft.

I spent all day Saturday and Sunday outside in the sun, and I did not notice any change of color on my skin. I typically don’t burn, but within minutes of being in the sun my freckles darken by several shades. Since I’ve been using Neutrogena Ultrasheer Liquid Sunblock, I’ve noticed very little darkening of my freckles.

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Would you like to review UltraSheer®, too? Then go to http://www.giantwavepool.com/ultrasheer!

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Disclosure of Material Connection: I received the product mentioned above for free for review purposes from Tidal Labs. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255: “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”

If you grew up in the Lexington, Virginia area, you know the Southern Inn. If you’ve ever visited Lexington, you know the Southern Inn. If you’ve ever passed through downtown Lexington on your way to some place with taller buildings and brighter lights, you know the Southern Inn. You may have no idea that the spinach dip there is addictive,  or that there are coat hooks on the end of each booth, but that  two-story blue sign that says “PARKING IN REAR – SOUTHERN INN RESTAURANT” is unforgettable. With a sign like that, you know the place has stories to tell – stories of romance, business deals, friendship, bank robberies (OK, maybe not bank robberies, but if a movie needed an early 1900’s bar for a scene where a bank robbery was being planned out the Southern Inn would be perfect).

(The church on the left was destroyed by fire ten years ago almost exactly ten years ago)

Late Thursday night a line of severe thunderstorms charged through the Lexington area. It was a welcomed relief to the desert like weather we had been having for what seemed an eternity. It rained enough to cause flash flooding and bring hope to those with gardens. As Lexington woke up the next morning, refreshed by the cleansing down pour and cooler temperatures, it was handed devastating news. While most of Lexington was fast asleep, the Southern Inn had been destroyed by fire.

When I was driving to work around 9:00AM that morning, I hadn’t heard the news. As I approached the Nelson- Main Street intersection, I noticed part of the road was closed. At first this didn’t alarm me because the road at this intersection is often rerouted for the construction of a new bank. As I approached the traffic light I saw a fire truck, police cars and several rescue workers; this raised my eyebrow a little. However, this is Lexington and because there isn’t much excitement around, it would not have surprised me if the entire town was dispatched for a smoking tail pipe on an old beat-up truck. It wasn’t until I turned the corner to head North down Main Street that I saw what all of the traffic disruption was all about. I looked to my left and felt my heart drop to my stomach as I saw light from the caved in roof pouring into the soot covered Southern Inn and creating a silhouette around one of the angry pig figurines that has been in the window of the restaurant for as long as I can remember. As I continued to creep down the road, following a procession of mourners, I panicked, “Where was the sign!?” I looked in my side mirrors, and there it was, clinging to the side of the building for dear life. Seeing that sign was like getting a big hug from Lexington that I could bury my face in.

I returned to the Southern Inn on Friday evening to pay my respects. I followed the big blue sign’s instructions and parked in the rear. I took a few minutes to take in the back of the building before walking through the tiny alley way that led to Main Street. I stood on Main Street looking at the big blue sign and that angry pig in the window, and began remembering the few times that I was part of the Southern Inn’s  story. The first memory I have of the Southern Inn is when I was a little girl; we went there for breakfast with my mom’s family that was visiting from out of town. I was very young, but I remember having the biscuits and gravy and thinking, “Wow. I better be good; this place is fancy.” My second memory was of going to eat dinner with one of my best friends from high school. We sat in a booth with a coathook on the end; we shared the spinach dip and each had a cheeseburger. The third memory I have, is one of mine and Steve’s first night out alone after Moanna was born. Steve did not want to go to the Southern Inn at all because he thought it was going to be very country; he has a reputation of pre-judging things in Virginia. I can’t remember what we ate that night (other than the spinach dip of course), but I do remember that Steve was pleasantly surprised by the experience.

As  I was about to leave, I looked down at my feet and saw a broken soot covered brick. I picked it up, held it to my face and took a deep breath in. I could smell the fire from the night before, but what I really smelled deep inside that brick was history and memories – stories of romance, business deals, the laughter of friendship and maybe even the plotting of a great bank robbery.

**So far a cause of the fire has not yet be determined.  The owners of the restaurant and building have assured the community that they plan to rebuild and open as soon as possible.