Of Revolutions!

I mean…resolutions…crikey, I know the words sound a lot a like but they certainly have different meantings…right? Let’s pull up dictionary.com and see…

rev⋅o⋅lu⋅tion    [rev-uh-loo-shuhn] –noun

1. an overthrow or repudiation and the thorough replacement of an established government or political system by the people governed.

2. Sociology. a radical and pervasive change in society and the social structure, esp. one made suddenly and often accompanied by violence. Compare social evolution.

3. a sudden, complete or marked change in something: the present revolution in church architecture.

res⋅o⋅lu⋅tion    [rez-uh-loo-shuhn] –noun

1. a formal expression of opinion or intention made, usually after voting, by a formal organization, a legislature, a club, or other group. Compare concurrent resolution, joint resolution.

2. a resolve or determination: to make a firm resolution to do something.

3. the act of resolving or determining upon an action or course of action, method, procedure, etc.

Ok, so there’s way more meanings for each word but the first three will suffice cause I’m much to busy and tired to consider the rest of the options.

You know…they’re pretty similar if you ask me as I think most people make new years resolutions that wind up incurring in acts of violence…even if it is on an innocent pillow, hapless roommate/spouse or precariously living houseplant.

For most my adult life I’ve shunned the idea of making resolutions. I mean, why announce to those closest to you the intent to make changes that we all know will fall to shambles approximately five minutes after that third glass of bubbly. This year I had a moment of reflection – of fairly quiet reflection where I could say, if only to myself – “I’m going to strive to make some small changes that could amount to bigger ones in the picture of the darque faerie.”

A couple weeks into the 2010 and I’m sticking with some, flagging in one and trying to make good with one. This one. When I started this blog it was actually to deal with disheartening time in my life. I wanted to find peace with myself but be upbeat and interesting despite how I felt on the inside. As you can all see, I have been, at best, sporadic with that. This last year has been especially trying and I want to move beyond that. So here I am, trying to write, to share. I want to find something. Something that maybe will show, if only to myself, that I’m not nearly as lame as I think that I am. Especially when I see how ultra cool everybody on my facebook is.

Observations of a Gamer Mom (Part One)

Pre-Morning Chaos

I went to bed just a touch too late last night so when my alarm went off at 5am, was I ready to get up? Hell no! Luckily, I only slept in an extra 12 minutes. Why so precise? Ok…hold up a sec…why does the rule go “I before E except after C” and that not apply to the word “precise”? That does NOT make any sense. Anyhow…I figure it’s the insanity that gets me up so early. I got into this weird habit of farming at 5am – it’s quiet around the house, fairly quiet in game so why not mine my happy lil ass off? Lately I’ve taken to doing Argent Tourney stuff with Cait or Ana. Much to my surprise, Cait’s progressed to a point where it’s taking almost all my free early morning time to take care of it. *le sigh*

Chaos!

I’ve been blessed with a child who’s easy to wake up most mornings and I don’t mean that I have to sic the dog on her. She’s relatively cheerful and very anal about NOT having her light turned on until the moment she steps through the threshold of her door to the hallway. Freya does her morning “let’s try to break mommy’s neck going down the stairs” routine and we’re off to brekkie. For the girls at least. I know just about every organizational home book or website will tell you do make lunches in night before to save on stress of doing it in the morning but to be honest, making lunches in the morning is one of those bonding times with the girls where we get to discuss the finer points of peanut butter vs. tuna and carrot rounds vs. carrot sticks. Oh who am I kidding? It’s a jumble of arguing over who has to feed the dog, sit closest to the far edge of the counter while I get jelly all over my fingers. Blech! I freaking hate grape jelly which just happens to be the Elfling’s favourite.

Speaking of her , she’s at the intermediate school this year so she not only gets to walk all by herself but she gets to leave earlier. She flounces off with just enough time for me to realize I have no idea where she put the hairbrush before realizing the Diva’s on top of it. She’s actually quite good about taking care of her own hair – save for doing it. Why she comes to me for lopsided braids and ponytails, I don’t know. It must be her way of saying she loves me. Awwwwwww!

The irony of this all, right now, was that I was typing about lunch prep, I got an email about healthy lunches.

Come on let’s sweat…Baby!

Ha! I wish it were for a good read, pervie reason. After the early morning molten temperatures of last week, it was surprisingly cool this morning which would make a much better sight after being found collapsed on the ground when Freya either wrapped her leash around me or in agony after she disjointed my limbs. Bad enough that should happen but it would be even worse to be a sweaty mess.

Walking Freya sometimes truly makes me fathom that I not only let a dog into my life but I actually like her. A lot. Most of the time at least. I think dogs are seriously far more gross than cats. A simple stroll towards school not only is a lesson on staying upright with all limbs intact, it’s maze though a mine field of things dogs want to get into and humans want to avoid. The poo of other dogs – snack! Weird clump of dried, mowed up grass – something to attack! Mostly decomposed carcass – a to..omg, get the FUCK away from that!

Interestingly enough, there was a guy wrapped in a towel walking part of the neighbourhood…should have gotten his story.

Tackling Housework 15 min. a Time

And we come to now. Well, not exactly. After a perilous journey to school…or the vicinity of it and walk back, we come to a point where I think I once promised a sort of dissertation on my likely dull (to youse guys) and game addicted day. The way this is looking, I’m thinking I might break this down – consider this part one. And perhaps as the day goes on, I’ll head into other segments that give insight into my lameness.

Oh, and those 15 minutes? Load the dishwasher, reset laundry, lament the folding, scream in the bathroom and, of course, start this post. I’m going to have some brekkie now – see ya.

Operation Pancake: Failure!

Ok, so it wasn’t a TOTAL failure but these were not your mama’s pancakes we wound up having at brekkie this morning. It started off last night with the Elfling asking if we could have said flapjacks in the morning and since we didn’t have any pancake mix, I said I’d give consideration to the idea of doing them from scratch. Now I know I might catch some flack for going with a mix but omg…it’s all premixed…stuff…and I get to toss in an unneeded egg and vanilla – viola! Pancakes! This wasn’t my first time making them from scratch – I’ve actually made some ass kickingly good blueberry pancakes from scratch so I still don’t know where I went wrong.

The recipe was from a favourite book of mine Emeril’s There’s Chef in My Soup…hmm...there might be a “Waiter,” in there somewhere…I don’t know and am waaaaaaay too bloody lazy to get up off my arse and look. I followed it to a T excepting that I used brown sugar instead of plain old white sugar. After letting it sit for 15 min (and what we accomplished in 15 min is a different story) we heated up our pan and were ready to make…

Crepes?? Like, omg – wtf???? Seriously guys, these things didn’t rise, they were luquidy and they tasted of funked up disaster. Till the Elfling said it wasn’t very sweet…or tasting. It was like…eating eggy goodness without any flavour. A lil more (pure, pristine – WHITE) sugar later and we had…more CREPES…only they were flavourful now. *shrugs* Who knows, go figure.

Anyhow, they didn’t turn out to be too bad. If I’d known I was making crepes instead of pancakes, I would have thawed some strawberries for them. Instead we schmeared on coconut syrup and rolled them up.

So in conclusion Emeril Pancake Recipe:

Awful for pancakes

Great for Crepes

Insomniac Bloggery Anyone?

So it's 240am and here I am.  Sitting the dark.  Sweating my arse off.  Blogging.

Well...kinda, at least.  I took a moment to check the temp. on my way here and found that it's still about 80 degrees in here.  Goddamn that's hot!  It was actually that hot at 5am yesterday when I came stumbling down.  So you can probably guess what kind of day I had.  

It's actually been a kinda wierd last couple weeks.  For those of you who don't keep up with the world around you there's been a bit of a hysteria over the swine flu.  I'll admit, it was a blip on my personal radar till 2 kids at the local high school caught it.  After the 3rd student, they actually shut down that high school and soon the entire district was down.  Yadda-yadda-yadda - we come tonight, I'm sleepless in San Antonio and my kids (thank the gods!) have school in the morning.

Speaking of which, i should make brownies.  You know since it's only 80 degrees in here.  (:

Work in Progress

I don't generally go for writing what looks like a poem but inspiration hit and the story in my head didn't have time to be written.  Feel free to comment and opinon...like I said, it's a work in progress.

Ice queen rose from her throne to see

The play of battle down below

Snow white world lay to ruin

By glinted steel marred and bloodied

Darker than the colour of her gown

She cast her glance to the king at her side

Resplendent in darkness as she in light

Of velvet and furs

To his cloak of dark

They watched together

Of opposing forces

To the kaleidoscope of banners

Dancing…rising…falling

To the great Ebon Knight

Her saddened eyes cast

Silent farewells his leaving

No falling for the banner

Of burgundy and gold

Left it did once and for all

Betrayed her one last time

Turned to her king

The snow white queen

With marbled cheeks

Glistened with frozen tears

What Else Could I Write?

I don't have the right. Yes, yes, all applogies for my lack of contact these last few months. As those of you who follow my blog, hear me bitch in game or know by keeping up with me in sporadic phone calls and im's know - I moved! After a nearly week long stay in hell..i mean a hospital! To be honest, after the move I really was still pretty sick even up to moving into an actual house. Now I'm still in a mess of trying to sort THAT out and just plain lazy so I hope you guys will forgive me and take this as a promise that I'll be good and post with more alarming regularity. (:

Just think of things we have to discuss! Oh, and yes...that last book on my bookshelf (though I'm not sure we can let a website count either) is fake. Perhaps the book I was meant to write myself. I'll get right on top of that...you know, when I've run out of laundry to do.

I just had to add a lil something to the end of this sad lil post...I put up a poll and see if you guys want to input what my next post will be about. I may or may not follow the calling of my people but don't let that discourage you. (;

10 Things I Learned in a German Hospital

These next few blog posts were actually thought of (during lucid moments) then written on paper (when I got a hold of E and his wallet and dragged him to the gift shop for supplies) while staying at the krakenhaus (hospital). They may, at times, seem to jump around datelessly or repeat one another at points. For that I ask the forgiveness of my loyal readers.

1. It’s possible to look so dreadful that you do not get to stop and collect $200 (or is that (or should that be €200?) – You go directly to a gurney and the paperwork will eventually catch up.
2. Some Schwesters are more like Nurse Ratchet. I have no idea who that is but she sounds like a mean person. While much to my delight it can be reported that most the schwesters were absolutely wonderful women, I encountered this one woman who was totally not. I mean…maybe it was cause she seemed to constantly scowl at me and quite roughly try to get my blood pressure. It was like she felt it took a lot of gall to show up in her ER and be sick.
3. I’m glad I wore brand new panties cause while I figured I’d be dropping trou, I had no idea they’d be prominently on display as it would seem my affliction would be abnormal enough to warrant the amount of people who were looking at me. I really dislike the vulnerability of being so on display – thank god for blankets!
4. German ingenuity has set it so pillows are collapsible for ease in transport and storage. Unfortunately it also means they collapse under the weight of your head, thus rendering them useless. Mattresses aren’t much better. I’ve started this blog post the old fashioned way – with pen to paper and from where I’m sitting, just looking at my bed makes my arse go numb! >.<’
5. Saying you have no pants on around these parts mean “you have no panties on”. To save on shock value and confusion, refer to them as trousers.
6. Thank goodness for understanding roomies. Mine, of course, is German however she speaks rather good English. This has been helpful when doing things such as ordering meals…I’m still wondering what ever happened to my chicken noodle soup since the stuff in my bowl was more like farina…or gruel. Ok, It wasn’t that bad…kinda homey, actually. Anyhow, she’s been a real dear. I was pretty much in and out of it my first day in and at one point I gave a chortle so loud (in my sleep) that it woke me up (obviously, since I mentioned sleep in the last set of parentheses) and I found her observing me with a grin. Hopefully I’m too sick to give my usual multi-o’s while sleeping cause I don’t think she’ll find that quite as funny.
7. If I ever need a CT Scan of my head…They’re gonna have to sedate me. Luckily this was just my leg but the closer I got to the circle, the more panicky I got.
8. That being said, when they say injecting the dye might bring on a weird feeling of pressure, wave of heat and sudden urge to pee, what they really mean is that it’s going to shock and surprise you so bad that you flail about on the able and by the time you want to question the weirdness of it all, it’s all over and you’re scooting back onto your bed.
9. You know the food is bad when you notice your growling stomach is dueling with the person’s who can actually eat and drink.
10. Your natural stealth rating goes down by -50 when you’re attached to an IV. It may have helped if the wheels of my trolley would roll. That seems to be an ongoing issue as it seems my bedside table won’t roll either.
11. Night schwesters like to wake you up by causing pain. Usually in fiddling with said IV – replacing saline, connecting to antibiotics…doing gods know what with my hand. I think that last schwester was about to get smacked since I woke up feeling with her messing with my hand and for a moment I forgot what was going on – luckily I lifted from my sleep fog.

Other small things of note:

• My condition is apparently so odd that three doctors come in for rounds.
  
• Elektroniks don’t like me – I don’t think anybody’s been able to get my bp and my pulse most certainly is NOT 485.
  
• On that note about bp – getting that done on the same arm as an iv hurts like a bitch!
  
• Injections to the thigh don’t’ hurt as much as I thought they would. To be honest the first one didn’t hurt at all but I was really out of it.
  
• The shower in my room is super claustrophobic. I was doing ok till I hit my IV line which not only hurt but made me freak out. There’s just nothing graceful about dripping all over the place trying to breathe and not pass out.