This is why I'm hot

this is why, this is why, this

well, not so much anymore. We've had an electrician take care of the weird phenomena of blown fuses for electrical devices running down the center of our house. No ceiling fan for a week. We're good to go now, though. It's only 100 degrees in the shade today.

I'm waiting for my wife, my daughter, my ex-husband and his stepdaughter to come back from a Nickelback concert. Periodic text msgs come through with "Puddle of Mudd rocks" or "Not too hot out here" or "Leaving no later than 10:15."

This weekend, Matt gave us the shirt off his back, we were asked to be godparents for their baby Kurt, and R got a certificate for lasting 1244 days as Matt's friend. We have the folded up b&w 8.5x11 inkjet printout to prove it, too. Verily.

Shan and them have this cute cava-poo puppy, and they named her Hope, no doubt after their second-chance relationship. The cat Snackers seems to be hell on wheels, and hopefully they won't encourage her mean behavior. Nhu had a mean cat that would do devilish, nasty things to people, and it just wasn't good. She ended up back in the pound, and to be honest, for the silver beauty that she was, I dearly hope she didn't find a home with children. But I digress. Didn't get to see Hallie and the Logan tonight, but maybe next time. Game night? I don't know.

Read most of my chapters in my copywriting book. There are some smartly written tidbits in there. Some I already knew, but from a copy editor's standpoint, not much of it mattered before. I never had to be in front of the client. I have to learn some social skills I guess. I know I can't please everyone all the time, but I piss some people off most of the time.

I've made chicken and dumplings, and I'm workingo on chili now. I'm going to divide up this brisket shortly and put it in the oven all night to roast. This family eats some serious meat, I'm tellin' ya. I think it's the ex's birthday soon, so we need to do dinner.

Amanda wrote a great story. Once I finish typing it in, I will post it online for the ho' wi' whirl.

Another banana post from Andi

Ok, here's the article that changed my life.

Look out for the big banana

11:22 AM CST on Monday, January 8, 2007

SAN ANTONIO – A Canadian artist hopes to make the Texas sky his canvas by sending a 1,000-foot-long helium-filled-banana to float overhead next year.

"I want to bring some humor to the Texas sky," Montreal artist Cesar Saez, 38, told the San Antonio Express-News for its Sunday editions.

If the plan works, the giant bamboo and paper dirigible will be launched from Mexico in summer 2008. It will then drift eastward over Texas at a stratospheric altitude of 20 miles.

"There's no question this is a serious artistic project," said Donna Balkan, a spokeswoman for the Canada Council for the Arts. "It's a work of public art, but what makes this project unusual is that he's using the sky as his venue rather than a park or street corner."

After reading this, i wrote to my wife and our good friend...

Some guy in Dallas Canada has a dream. In Quick today (a local paper), I read that
this guy wants to float a large helium-craft over the Dallas skyline. It's
in the shape of a banana. At some point in his daydreaming and
goal-achieving, he said to himself, "Dallas needs to see a large banana
balloon. That will be fun." And then someone else hears about this dream and
says, "Hey, that's a great idea. I will write about the big banana balloon
and tell thousands of people how fun that will be." So now I get to read how
some guy, whose name I don't recall or care to, has a goal of flying a
phallic fruit over Dallas, and other people agreed that this was splendid,
fantastic thing! so let's move forward with that. And if you note at the end someone was quoted saying "there's no question that this is a serious artistic project." By golly, who am I to question that kind of art?

And here I sit moaning and writhing about my goals and my career. All I need
is to talk to people. I just need to make sure that I know what I want, and then
tell people about it. That's IT! It sounds so easy, but I don't LIKE to talk
to people! I don't need to learn to program in HTML, or use
InDesign or even project management. I need to learn how to talk to people.
To strangers. And do public speaking. And, oh how hateful this is, even
marketing. But somewhere, somehow, someone wants my big banana, and I'm
gonna give it to 'em.

Fold up the branches

Yesterday, Andi made a list of chores for Amanda. The list was rather basic or so we thought. Andi had run to home depot and to the post office. She thought it was safe to leave us alone or maybe she considers it a risk each time. :) Anyway, the request as written: "Fold up the tree branches." Andi wanted her to fold up the branches on the Christmas tree so we could put it back in the box. It was the only thing left of the decorations to put away at this point. Amanda seeks clarity. So I go thru this whole visual demonstration and explain how to do it. As I am talking Amanda gets more and more horrified. I can not figure out why this is bothering her so. Eventually she ask, "all of the branches?", "Yes, all of them", I say. She repeats the questions but is near tears at this point. "I don't understand why Mommy wants me to do that." Then she says, "Every tree? And I really don't think I can get up that high" and I say "WHAT? Are you on crack?" She thought Andi was asking her to do to this to the trees out in the backyard.

I can see the new service offered by lawn care folks: Tree folding $99 per tree. Sleek! Trim! Bound trees for every occasion.

Cat in Heat!

This morning before the sun came up Andi and I woke up with a start. There was a horrible sound that I could not quite figure out. Andi and I quickly glanced at one another quizically. At first we thought it was Amanda talking in her sleep. We confirmed that was not it. Then, I thought it was a small child crying. Then, it sounded like an old lady saying "Oh Lordy...Oh Lordy" We were a bit concerned and so we got up put on our slippers and headed outside. I was a bit frightened at what we might find but it turned out to be a cat in heat.

THAT IS JUST WEIRD!!!!

new year

Andi and I both have done some thinking for the new year. One of my goals is to write on this blog more. Life moves so fast that I can not seem to keep up or remember. I do not expect this blog to generally be all that exciting so I am sorry to you folks who were looking for constant wit. However, I would like to utilize this free space blogger has offered to the world.

Right now I am home alone, and ummm cleaning house, while Andi is taking Amanda to the doctor. Amanda can not shake her cough. I thought I was catching it yesterday but woke up better today.

This weekend we had a dinner party here at the house. It was just the family and not even all of the family. Nancy was ill and could not attend. We played imagine If and poker. It was a nice visit. These things always seem easy but because we slept late we got a late start on the day. We did buy some great food though. Personally, I had a great time putting the food together. Andi swept and mopped the floor while I did the food. I made this one thing with candied pecans and cream cheese with chives on a wheat thin. I think I will call it the Brenda special.

I also wrote a short story about a snowman that was not all that great. Perhaps I will post it for the heck of it. Basically the only true part of the story is that mom walked to work in the snow. The rest of it pure fiction or so I think. When thinking of childhood the memories often get jumbled.

I can not believe they actually hung Sadam. Andi and my first thoughts were that it was a hoax and they did not follow thru. What do you guys think? Also, I heard it was already on you tube. If that is true there are sickos in the world. Who wants to watch such a thing? Teenagers??

We found it!

Today a group of us went to Sheri's house to watch two movies. We watched one I have not seen (Finding Nemo) and one Sheri had not seen (Fried Green Tomatoes). It was fun but the weather was bad. We found the storm. It was here the entire time. Everyone's phone kept going off because their husbands were looking for them and people were nervous about a tornado. I was like well there is not much we can do about it from here. I completely understand people being worried about their kids though. It is a frightening thing when you are across the metroplex and your kid is in an unsure situation. We were within miles of Amanda but I know when it comes to tornadoes it does not really matter all that much. We all made it back home safe and sound and for that I am grateful.

The holidays have been great. It was a bumpy start because I (Renee') got sick the weekend prior. Actually, Amanda and I both got sick. Andi was wonderful about it though. She took such good care of us. We were quite pathetic looking. I believe she actually took a picture of it and maybe she will upload it at some point. I even missed Sue's Christmas party.

We got thru that though and then we had a crazy week of shopping. Sheri and I shopped during several lunch hours. Char and Jules joined us as well. It was fun though. I generally enjoy shopping.

We had our Christmas Eve with Mander on Sat. We kicked it off with brunch at Sue's to make up for the missed party. It was a really nice visit. Ok am I old now that I say things like "it was a really nice visit?" I think the troublesome word there is visit. Anyways, we came home after that just so Mander could get in trouble. Ok, so that was not actually why we came home but it sure feels like it. We dealt with that issue and moved forward with our holiday. We went to La Bella, oh yeah, and then drove around to look at lights. We did not see any thrilling lights but it was still fun. After that we opened a couple of gifts and watched a movie.

We got up Sunday morning and opened gifts. It was a great time. Andi took pictures of that as well. We all got some great gifts. Amanda got a cell phone, clothes, a bike and other random items. I got an amazing watch. It is truly beautiful. Andi got a paper making kit, books and a couple of blouses. We tooled around for a bit and then went to the neighbors for snacks. Before going to the neighbors Andi put a couple of rock cornish game hens in the oven. We came home and had a nice candle light dinner before heading her to meet her father.

Christmas morning Andi did some baking and I cleaned up a bit. That afternoon we went to Christi's apartment to hang out with Amanda and family. It was a great time. I am the winner of the poker game. Good times! The food there was amazing and I managed to wear a lot of it home. We also went to visit Brenda for a bit.

It was a wonderful holiday.

Yes, we have one or two bananas.

You may be aware that we are getting married. We are lassoing one another into the yoke of life, and we'll pull together toward a common goal. Every once in a while we'll let one another slip out of the harness so that we can stretch, and regain our footing. An example? R did all the laundry over the weekend and hung tons of clothes that were packed. I hate this job. She gifted me, bless her.

There's a lot of stress right now. Silly people, we decided to have a commitment ceremony a month directly following a move into a new old house. Actually the house was the easier of the two to arrange. I have some angst about the wedding. I know that it will be hard for some people to deal with: some will attend joyfully, some will attend reluctantly, and some won't attend at all. Some people that I care deeply about will have reservations and won't be able to overcome their own personal "ick" factor. For others it will be about religious reasons. There are wonderful people in our lives that we wouldn't trade for anything, and if they just can't go, they can't go. They will be missed, but I'd rather have them be comfortable at home, than uncomfortable at our Big Event. I'd never realized how special and important it makes the betrothed feel to have all these amazing people celebrate with you on that day. I'm more worried about R than for myself - not that she's fragile - she has a tough core - but she's had people drop out of her life the last few years when they saw fit to judge her for her choices.

Am I a culprit? Yes. I'm a different person now than I was 10, 5, 2 years ago. I spent a lot of time nursing my own "ick" factor, judging and winnowing people that I didn't want anything to do with. Even now, I don't spend any time at all loving people that I have deemed unworthy. I'm reading the news right now, and it makes my blood boil. Where's my brotherly love? Where's my forgiveness? How do I forgive child molesters, family killers, complete ruined shells that have only the power to take from others? Can't I pass that job onto God? He's got it in Him, right, not me. I'm small and hard and set and I have a job and a family to protect, and how am I supposed to find time to pray for criminals? And so the question is - what if I don't? What if the whole world stops praying for the undeserving? Is that what's happening? We've all sequestered ourselves into these groups of "I'm ok, you're not ok" and we go along in life, and just keep separating, moving away, and the weak drop off, and usually take innocence with them.

Do any of us deserve grace? Well, no. Not from the Lord, and maybe not from each other. Maybe it remains a gift. There's a lot of back and forth about the world, and what God wants from us, and how we should behave. Everyone has their own agenda, their own interpretations, and I suppose I do as well. For all of my mistakes in life, and my hopes, failures, joys, I pray that I am always grateful.

Regardless, I choose love. So whoever you are, reading this, thank God for you.

I'm wearing a jester hat.

It has bells on it.

I'm grateful for my life and all the wonderful people in it.

So much to say

But this photo really should say it all for us. Courtesy of cuteoverload.com

Stuffies, stuff and fluff

Amanda starts school on August 14. She's in 6th grade now, which is amazing. We were playing with her stuffed animals before bed tonight and I recognized so many that had been given to her over the years.

Priscilla, a white fluffy rabbit given to her around Easter from a shop in Granbury while I was on a ladies' retreat. I think she was 5.

Sully, that Monsters Inc. dude. Not very cuddly but very charming. An estranged friend gave that one to her.

Dory, a fish given to her by her uncle-in-law Gerry for her 9th birthday.

Lou, a Jack Russell terrier I gave her one Christmas. Named after her dad's nickname.

Thunderjam, Big J, Little E, Dove (a bear) and Bird (a donkey), and countless others of all shapes and sizes. There is even one in her collection, a small rainbow dinosaur, that I bought from a thrift store my first year in college. I saved it from a recent garage sale. It doesn't have a name. It's just jolly.

And Hartsy, so named for his paws around a big red heart. He's a bear I'd bought her from Walmart for Valentine's Day a long time ago. He's the most popular bear around, and I imagine if she had to save only one from her collection, he would be The Chosen.

The three of us did some school supplies shopping at Target tonight. We figured incorrectly when we totted up how many supplies she already had and we could just fill in the rest. It was still a lot of money. But we bought a lunchbox so cool that all three of us almost got one. Amazingly, Renee' said no, and she rarely says no to a Shopping Self-Indulgence at Target. (This indicates her true level of illness, and we do suspect that her boss gave her pneumonia. But we'll see if she can fight it off.)

I also wrote a real actual paper letter to Amanda's principal to tell him we are taking her out of Spanish Immersion. The commitment of 1st grade thru 5th had been fulfilled, and it wasn't my fault that they decided to tak on another year because her 4th grade teacher was a wash, and her fifth grade teacher had a baby mid-year. Plain and simple, Amanda's had trouble understanding the lessons, and by the time she finally has the instructions straight, everyone else has their classwork done. She always feels left behind, and none of us at home can understand her work enough to help her. My Spanish gets me through spelling words, but that's about it. Her principal has been badgering me to keep her in, but I'm realizing it's for political/admin reasons, certainly not for Amanda's welfare.

Well, I halfway cleaned the kitchen, halfway fed the dog, half put some stuff away. Tomorrow is Thurs and Mander is going to come to work with me. It should be a good day - she has some letters to write, and we'll work on the homework CDs. I think we're meeting up with Beendon for dinner. I need to let her know the winery won't work out because it closes at five. Unless I leave work at 330p, I'd never make 5p. But we can still get together because she is leaving for vacation soon and we're going to Austin this weekend.

It really bugs me that she can just pick up and GO like that. Just goes off, and leaves us here. That's ok, she'll be in the car with a toddler.

What happens when you don't have anything to say? from Andi

Sometimes I get an urge to update the blog.

Every time I lay down, my knees are parallel to my shoulders.

Cutting oneself with a serrated knife is a different sensation than doing so with a paring knife. Still as unpleasant, might I add. Bread can be dangerous.

Lately, I forget things immediately after thinking of them.

Lists are great, but they don't work if you don't remember writing things down in the first place.

At work, the deadline to do my timesheets was yesterday EOD. Today, I've thought about doing them several times, including just now. By the time I've moved on to the next topic, I'll have forgotten.

Sometimes I forget things immediately after thinking about them. Does that ever happen to you?

Love Languages

This is an interesting quiz that gives you and your partner ideas about the kind of languages we use to feel loved and give love. Fascinating. Post your score, if you dare. My Primary Love Language is: Acts of Service; my Secondary Love Language is: Words of Affirmation.http://www.youthnetsouthampton.org.uk/breakout/lovelanguages.php

The date is set.

November 18, 2006 is the day we make it unofficially official. Granted, most of the U.S. is not on board with our desires to establish "a marital trust," but we'll just do it our own way. It's probably better this way anyway, because there are fewer expectations and we can mingle traditions and contemporary iconography at will.

Brenda said something brilliant just this morning, so I will share it here:

"Is doable a word? I mean it doesn't look right somehow. It's not like it's in the dictionary or anything. I mean I don't think it is, maybe I just haven't checked."

Oh, wait, that wasn't it. Wrong cut and paste. She really can say insightful things sometimes, honest... Here it is:

"Weddings are not about joining two people really. They are about testing your relationship in every possible way so you ask yourself about a million times - is it worth it? If you get to the cake then the answer is yes."

So, since I'm on a diet, reading this and the subsequent thread that followed just had me thinking about cake. Any kind of cake, not just wedding cake. I'm trying to drop those last few pounds; I'm looking forward to being that size 2 pretty soon. I recommend eating nothing but organic broccoli and filtered water for optimum lightheadedness.

Mmm cake. Sorry, back to the wedding. We've chosen a little winery in Grapevine to host it - we've gone full-service so that we don't have to work or make our families do work, and we can relax and have fun. R and I are not radicals, and we're not out to be offensive by any means. This is going to be a sweet affair, with some of the traditional and eloquent, but we're two women making a statement of our love for each other - and we have a full understanding that these aren't commonplace, and many - MOST - people in our lives are still adjusting to us as a couple. God knows we love you. Thank you for loving us. Thank you for being in our lives and extending a caring hand. We can't apologize for the life we have together, because being happy is our priority, not what a long history of social mores dictates.

Rant, rant. If Renee' decides to write about the wedding, well it will sound completely different, I'm sure. :)

From 2nd of 3

Brenda's brother, Majlogon, has created the certificate I've always wanted. Yes, I've been assimilated into the borg. Please see my credentials for any questions or to have my identity authorized. Thank you.

*Despite my best attempts at manipulating the image and/or the uploader, I can't show off my certificate here. I will continue to make adjustments and get back to my fans.

Blister Packaging of Doom

This is an official rant. I want to know why it is that retail stores now are putting everything in blister packaging??? For the lightest, smallest, plastic, non-fragile items even. I just don't get it. We are destroying ourselves with packaging!! Don't they understand that a zip-loc(tm) baggie will do the trick just fine?

R and I went to Best Buy to scope out potential birthday presents for Amanda and to pick up some printer ink and a phone car charger. We realized that we were in for trouble as we scooped all three of these things off the Pointy Display Rods of Destruction(tm).

Once in the car, we figured we might as well get the thing plugged in, as we haven't had a charge on her Cingular phone for a week. So we pull it out of the bag, stare at it, then at each other. R takes a moment to see if she has a switchblade, hacksaw or machete in the car but we'd left all those in the Corolla. The charger is nestled snugly in several layers of plastic, mocking me, but that's fine - we'll get it plugged in later. Renee and I smile at each other innocently, like lambs, if lambs could smile. If only lambs had mastered the skill of opening blister packaging. Baaaaastards.

Getting back to the apartment, I realize the inevitable is at hand. I get a steak knife, a pair of kitchen shears and an Exacto knife at the ready. There's a hammer, a crowbar and my teeth, if it comes to that.

First cuts go into the ink cartridge, and that went fairly well. It was a combo pack, but Lexmark decided that it was important just to contain the two boxes, not to hermetically seal them. Not too bad, didn't take too long. Snip, snip.

Then the car charger. A simple wire appendage, weighing no more than 3 ounces total. It was on clearance, I'm happy to say. So for $1.49 (yes, can you believe that??) we pretty much paid for the resplendent Teflon Kevlar Fibreglass Bliztr-Pak that could both contain polar bears and repel bullets. This deceptively clear and light package was about to become my worst enemy, the BloodLetter, the Blister Packaging of Doom. You don't understand: the battle was on, but I feared it was I who would be dethroned.

I girded my loins. Then, haha, I laughed to myself, as I saw a perforated oval skimming the backside of the container. This should make it easier to open, I thought. No, what this did was make the spring-back of the plastic more unpredictable. Ha ha. I snipped and scissored on the front, the back, the middle. I tore with my fingers and pulled with my teeth but I stopped when I realized I was putting my eyeballs in harm's way. Here is the packaging with me halfway through it. Panting, I get through the first layer only to discover that the cardboard backing is just as hard to bust through. I kid you not. I've been at this for 15 minutes, trying desperately to not slit my own wrists in Retail HariKari. WTF are these manufacturers doing?

I get the cardboard out - I guess the (c) 2006 Dorkwads, Inc. had to be written somewhere. After pulling it out with a banshee holler, there is yet another layer of plastic. I am laughing hysterically and wiping blood and tears off my countenance. Renee' is backing away slowly as I try thrusting the package in her direction: "Here! You! Take it! Fine, then. Get me a bandage and a shredder! Something!"

The charger inside mocks me, snuggled in there, all peaceful. I'm breaking a sweat. I hate this charger and everything it stands for. Corporate America. Commercialism. Materialistic savage retailing capitalists. Stupid cell phones anyway. This last section of plastic is a doozy, but at least it's not ROUNDED. So I'm stabbing, punching and basically disemboweling the remainder of this, this THING. And in my disheveled, rampant anger I nearly, oh so NEARLY, slice the charger cord. This sudden realization makes all the blood drain from my face and I study it carefully as I take it from its molded bed. no no no please let this not have been in vain. I pleaded with the Plastic Dogs of War.

But it's ok, the charger. IS. OK. I hold it up to the light in transcendental glee. I whisper to Renee in a very "Ren and Stimpy" fashion: "Look, Ren! The charger! I pushed the jolly, candy-like BUTTON! This is for you, all for you, MY DARLINGGGGG..."

She comes walking out of the bedroom with a new, unopened calculator and says sweetly, "Can you do this one, too?" So I collapse amidst the sharp, glittering edges hoping one of them finds my jugular.

This is how weird my world is

First of all, I have to say that what I want for dinner has to be the worst thing in the world, not really fit for human consumption, but here it is:

Double Stuf Oreos(tm) and a bag of white cheddar cheese popcorn.

Has to be DOUBLE STUF and it has to be WHITE cheddar. Not to be confused with white cheddar Oreos(tm) and Double Stuf popcorn.

I don't know why. I could guess PMS, but I don't think that's it.

Here's a whacked out photo of Brenda that she sent us recently. Comments are open. No holds barred. Ask her about her time on the Short Bus. Ask if she caught any flies in that trap. It's like she's a sleepwalking news reporter speaking into a purple microphone. Renee' and I have even wondered why it is she felt the need to send it, but then we realized: she loves abuse. Billdor craves our ill-will. So we give it freely, and we encourage this behavior in others.

I think I'm just bitter because she got to go see her friend Sina in Atlanta, and all we got is this picture as comfort. Hmph.

Renee' asked me if we could get a hippo as a pet. She said they're usually happy creatures. I was going to refute this, but then I found this as proof that she's right:

It's off cuteoverload.com, one of my favorite websites in the hole wy whirl. Here's another favorite website, it makes me happy to see so much Despair.

So yeah, good times. I'm glad my people love me in spite of my eccentricities.

This is a painting Amanda did almost a year ago when Renee' broke out her paints and introduced us to BGros - her and Brenda's art venture and business. I am incredibly proud of this painting and it's my favorite. She got almost no coaching from any of us, and I think it's just amazing. If you're lucky, you may end up with something of hers that's ALMOST this awesome. :)

Who would have thought such greatness would run in the fambly? Oh wait, I don't think it has...

Coffee - not as easy as it seems.

There's coffee yet unborn in this household. R recently bought a can of that chicory stuff that you might have at the Cafe DuMonde in NOLA. I think it's pretty good - strong, but good. She thinks it's strong, but bad. I'll probably make some this morning, and try to keep it on the weak side, but it will probably come out like motor oil.
I wish I could say that I had Real Coffee Skillz(tm) but, no. Here's an example: Yesterday, I was trying to clean out old grounds and coffee from pot, ergo resulting in tipping the used filter, grounds go everywhere. So I clean out every crevice in the kitchen which then had grounds in it. Heinous, I tell you. This is the punishment for drinking coffee. I'm sweeping, and Renee comes out for emotional support. Kiss, hug. She goes back out to the living room. Grinding new coffee (from Target - Southern Pecan flavor - not bad) and setting up new water ("make water" - haha), I finally get the whole process started. Coffee is on its way! Hallelu- ACK! what's wrong with the pot? Leaking, coffee...streaming... Grabbing towel, watching precious caffeine trickle down cabinets. R hears my cry for assistance and wonders what crack I'm on that I can't get through a cycle of coffee. We stop the brew and try to figure out what just went 86 on us. Pot's ok, everything seems normal... oh - I didn't put the machine's filter holder back in. I laid the filter straight down in the darn thing - without that, nothing to measure out water, grounds going into the pot, the works. Fairly important piece of plastic, that thing. Grumpy is no longer a word that can describe my mental state. R is laughing and comforting me. I'm growling and whining. We clean up grounds (again. Huh, whoda thunk.) and add new water, grind more coffee. Well I thought I added new water. Nope, no can do - all the steps weren't meant to come together for me that day, no sir. But even as we finished up and waited for the first TRUE cup of coffee, I suddenly didn't want it anymore. Just kidding. It was ok - too strong cuz I forgot to put more water in it. But R added some more water after it finished brewing, and like the angel she is, made me stay out of the kitchen while she fixed us our first cups.

If this isn't an advertisement for those Coffee Singles, I don't know what is.

EXACTO!!!

Wouldn't it be wonderful if everyone renounced violence forever? I could then conquer the whole stupid planet with just a butter knife.

Two benches ignoring a tree.

I stole this picture and headline from Renee'.
Maybe the only creative thing I'll ever do is blog. Blog creatively. Although Brinbrin and Matt seemed happy with my writing help on the adoption resume. That made me happy. Even if they don't use any of it, and they hate it all, at least they lied to me and said they liked it. So I'm good for something, at least.

We painted this weekend. I will eventually put up a couple pics of our objet d'art, but really, for now, just use your imagination. Mine, titled "Roadkill Birds," had three nice small poppies in the corner and some good grass. Amanda's is a lovely still life, with a blue vase and several varieties of flower. She got paint on her shorts, but it came out. At first, Renee' was frustrated, toiling and heaving over her work, sighing and stomping off, returning - "How's this?" "No, that's crap," the rest of us would say, gently encouraging her to keep trying. "Ok, this isn't bad," she'd say. And B would give her the ole "No, you should stop now and start over with a new canvas. Really. Don't touch it." And R would glare and pout, walk off, come back. But when she started over, it was brilliant. She even came back to the original crap painting and turned it into an awesome urban-ish flower. They both created some really cool pieces.

I feel obsessed with painting and being creative. Last week, or over the weekend (I don't remember -- time is becoming muddy these days), I was haunting the house trying to find my box of pastels. Couldn't find 'em. Wanted to go out and buy more at 11pm. Renee' was all, "Why am I living with a lunatic?" and I was all, "Do you want some bread? Maybe some toast. Where are my pastels? They aren't in this closet or in that box or in the freezer."

There is this insatiable need to do more. I did one painting to their 10. The paint makes me twitchy. The brushes make me wish I could use my fingers. People kept talking to me. I'd be in the middle of a brushstroke and Amanda would get paint on her eyeball. Or I'd be contemplating the fabulous combination of brown on brown, and the girls would be all, "Andi, your painting is a pit of despair. What do you think of mine?"

The kicker is, I'm ok with sucking (for now) because I just want to keep doing it. One day, my paints will come.