Glee. The great music equalizer.
He informed me that no, he did most certainly did not need my help with choreography. *huffs*
That isn't the point of the story, though. We're driving along, singing at the top of our lungs (me having illicit thoughts about Cory Monteith and Ethan doing a passable Steve Perry), ignoring the eye rolling going on in Aaron's corner of the car, when Ethan abruptly stops the music.
And informs me that I'm singing the wrong words.
I say something along the lines of "Oh, ho, little blond boy who is nine years old! You think you know better than I who had this album on vinyl and then tape and then CD? You think you know better than me?"
All this said in a very smug Iknowmorethanyou tone of voice.
Turns out, he did in fact know more than me. Since 1981, or as near to that as I was allowed to listen to rock music, I thought the words were "I've seen her in a smokey room... the smell of wine and cheap perfume." As it happens, the lyrics are "A singer in a smokey room...." What the hell, Journey? ENUNCIATE the next time you release one of my favorite songs so thirty something women don't have to watch their nine year-old sons do the "I was right" dance. (Which he totally gets from his father.)
Okay? That'd be great. Thanks muchly.
- Location:the settee
- Mood:
creative - Music:the washing machine doin' its thang
My name is Carrie, and I can't figure out how to work my damn cell phone.
About two months ago, I got a Blackberry Pearl. (I loatheloatheloathe the thing. With a deep and abiding malevolent passion.) I find myself looking at it and screaming, "AAAAAAHHHHH!" a lot. Nolan got himself an iphone (for business he says), but I got stuck with this damnable POS Blackberry. Today I tried to call Nolan, using the speed dial shortcut thingy, and ended up calling my cousin Beth instead. I mean, it was fantastic to talk to her, but, RAWR! Freaking phone. I feel like my dad, who is paralyzed by all things electronic.
I've watched the tutorial TWICE, and tried to read about what it is that I'm doing wrong. I can't stand when it guesses what word I'm about to type, I figured out how to stop that once, but can't seem to make it stop again. I've browsed the web, looked at my email, but I can't get the facebook app to work.
Don't even get me started on texting. It says I've received three, BUT I CAN'T GET TO THEM. I've yet to successfully SEND one. Bad words. Bad, freaking, punk-ass words.
It doesn't ring loud enough for me to hear, even on its loudest setting, it's so sensitive that I can't put it in my purse without having to lock the stinking keyboard (I will not even go into what a production THAT was) and the worst part? IT CALLS PEOPLE ALL BY ITSELF. I don't know; call me crazy, but I'd like to be the sentient being in the relationship!
*sigh*
1. Mexican Wedding Cookies are the best EVAR.
2. Nano word count is on target.
3. Ethan proclaims me acceptable for running lines for his play, saying that I'm better even than Blakely (10 year-old neighbor girl). He said, "But you probably have more stage experience." *cough* Just a bit, yeah, kid, thanks.
- Location:at the bar
- Mood:
busy - Music:White Collar
I dreamed that I was dating Michael Jackson.
...
I'll just sit over here and let that sink in for a bit.
( Hey, subconscious? Next time you send me a dead icon to make out with, could it maybe be Cary Grant, please? Thanks. )
I have a new favorite pair of jeans. Who here loathes jeans shopping, raise your hand? I tend to find a pair I like and wear them until they fall apart. So when I found The Boyfriend Jean at Ann Taylor Loft, I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. I went to their website today to order another pair, and guess what? SOLD OUT. They say they may still have them in the stores, not that it does me any good because there isn't an Ann Taylor Loft in Amarillo. *bats eyelashes at my mother who lives in Arlington* Flipping figures, right?
Also, my left hand is gimpy. I don't know if it's from all the typing, or what, but it aches something fierce. Send good thoughts, please.
Last thing... the howling at the beginning of Thriller freaks Katie out. Join the club, sister. I remember being in Melissa Lovell's living room, listening to that record for the first time (I think we were in the fourth grade) and almost peeing my pants when Vincent Price started cackling at the end. I know I screamed. I was a dork even back then. ;)
- Location:master bedroom
- Mood:
awake - Music:Billie Jean - Michael Jackson, a.k.a. my dream boyfriend
But whining about sleeplessness is not what I came here to do.
I bring you:The Chocolate Cavity Maker Cake!
It's a simple, yet yummy one. Super easy to make!
( How-to and pictures under the cut )
- Location:the settee
- Mood: awake
- Music:It's pretty silent in the wee hours.
I'm pretty sure I fell asleep right after Glee last night. Maybe even before it was over. All I know is that I was awakened this morning, by Abbey, doing her Lassie imitation of 'Timmy's in the well,' at 8:05 this morning.
My kids' school starts at 8:00.
They were up, by the way, I think playing in the bathtub. I don't know for sure, because I yelled for them to get dressed and get downstairs while I staggered in the kitchen for coffee. A record 15 minutes later, they were dressed, brushed, combed and in the car, me having shoved a granola bar at them for breakfast.
I also didn't know that the temperature had dropped 30 degrees overnight, so all they have are hoodies instead of real coats. I realized that I had a hair appt. right after I dropped them off, and didn't want to reschedule. So I had to go unshowered with yesterday's makeup and whatever mismatched clothes I'd yanked on - also with no coat.
Of course, Nolan calls and wants me to have lunch, too.
It was like a whole morning-long walk of shame. And all I did was fall asleep. Not even anything good.
So now I'm home, about to go soak in the tub and scrub my face, praying that I don't fall asleep again before I have to go pick up the kids from school. I'm getting them an alarm clock at the earliest point possible.
Good times. Gooooooood times.
- Mood: awake
I've been stressing for three weeks because I lost my wedding ring. It's a solitaire with two anniversary bands set with seven diamonds each. I don't wear it all the time, because over the last 11 years I've lost several of the diamonds from the anniversary bands, and they're a little expensive to replace. And I didn't want to wear it to the theatre and lose it up there, so I took it off before final dress.
This morning I'd had it. I wanted it back, so I start tearing apart my bedroom, because I know that was the last place I saw it. I even went so far as to dump out my bedside table drawer (Raise your hand if yours is a pit like mine) and clean it out. I finally get out the vacuum cleaner and go through the bag, and right after I'm done with that disgusting job, I go over to my jewelry armoire and what do I see lying on top of the spot where I always leave it?
My wedding ring. Looking kinda smug, if you ask me.
I bet I looked in that thing FIFTY times.
I don't care. I'm just glad to have it back.
- Location:my bedroom, next to the gargantuan pile of laundry
- Mood:
grateful - Music:Bones (season 5 ep. 3)
1.) I just spent the last hour in the backyard playing catch with my nine year-old*. He's a pretty amazing athlete, especially considering his parents are not just liberal arts, but theatre performance majors. Ethan was catching the ball effortlessly, his feet unmoving, just snagging it backhanded from wherever I threw it. He even made a few jumping catches. Meanwhile, I'm huffing and puffing and flinching, sweating like a maniac an catching about a quarter of what he throws to me. It frustrated me because he was throwing short; the ball would hit the ground about a foot and a half before it got to me. So being the stupid girl I am, I say:
Carrie. Throw it harder, E. Come on, you can do it!
Ethan. (gives me a look) I know I can, Mom, but I don't want to hurt you.
Carrie. (looks over the top of sunglasses and glares at progeny) Just throw the darn** ball, Ethan."
He shrugs and fires a couple off, and I'm flinching like CRAZY now because I'm essentially afraid of the ball.(With good reason, as it turns out. I'm gonna have nasty bruises this afternoon.)
In short, my nine year-old owned me at catch. *sigh*
2.) I redid my livejournal layout! (All by myself! *puffs up*) Some of the pink is a little too Pepto Bismol, but I'll fix it. I saved my old one, too, 'cause I loved it. But I'd had it for about a year, so it was time for a change.
3.) I got some mail this week that pissed me off and horrified me at the same time. One of the funeral homes in town sent me a brochure soliciting my business for their services. What the hell. I'm thirty-six. Do they know something I don't? I do not want to go shopping for coffins,*** thankyouverymuch. I digress; Schooler-Gordon funeral home; keep your glossy pictures of final resting places to YOURSELF.
*He's the kid in the icon
**Language censored for the ears of said kid.
***Or in my case, urns, because I've got this irrational fear of being buried alive.
- Location:in my green office
Rehearsals are SO much fun. I grin (when I'm not concentrating on finding the harmony) from ear to ear the whole time I'm there. The music is fun, the dances are fun, and my part is great. Funny, funny lines. I'm sure to blush the first time I say them in front of people. I had a dance rehearsal Sunday that proved that a rond de jambe à terre can cause you to have sore muscles in your sides the next day. One of the other "girls" called them "sexy muscles." So, I have sexy muscles, and apparently they aren't where you'd suppose them to be. *snort*
Speaking of sexy stuff, In one dance alone (24 Hours of Lovin', it's called) for The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas, I slap my own ass three times. I'm going to go out on a limb and say that's better than slapping someone else's ass. It's unlike anything I've ever done before, on stage. And it's FUN. It's released a whole new side of Carrie. The jury's still out on whether or not that side should have remained under wraps. I'll keep you posted.
In related news, Ethan asked what "carnal lust" meant. (From these lyrics: "I'll expose the facts although it fills me with disgust. Please excuse the filthy dark details, and carnal lust.") Ooops. No more rehearsing the libretto where the kiddos can hear. Or practicing the dances. I don't want then to find out that I have sexy muscles, or see me slapping my rear end, for that matter.
In another seamless segue, I don't whine much, because I think whiners are the epitome of uselessness, but I bruised my tailbone before I went on vacation when I slipped on the vacuum cleaner hose and landed on the bricks in the entryway. (I looked like some sort of Tom and Jerry cartoon, I'm sure.) ANYWAY, IT FREAKING HURTS. It makes sitting a challenge. Not to mention dancing. And slapping the aforementioned bruise. ;)
I'll get my cleverness and hilarity back soon, and post some of the highlights from vacation. I'm going to have to make a tag that says "funny things my in-laws say," or something. ;)
Happy b-day, Jessica!
- Location:off to conquer Mt. Laundry
- Music:Hard Candy Christmas
- wrote longhand on fan fic today on a plane. Forgot how therapeutic it is to put pencil to page.
- took FOUR flights (Amarillo->Dallas->New Orleans->Orlando-> Ft. Myers, then a 20 minute rental car ride to the condo.
- smacked head in Orlando Airport. Bled. Blacked out a little. Am better now.
- Nolan mentioned how graceful I am
- I told him to shut up
- Staying in very nice condo in Florida. Is muggy here. The humidity has humidity.
- had crab bisque for dinner. Yum.
- Ethan and Aaron's bag got lost somewhere from Orlando to Ft Myers. I know this because we had to RECHECK the bags in Orlando.
- bag had 2 library books in it, and all their new clothes, puls 2 new beach towels. Grrrr.
- Thus, on my first night of vacation, I'm doing laundry. *Irony*
- And
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif)
tracyj23 ? It took 45 minutes. And 13 hours before I lost my temper. :)
*Waves and crashes*
- Location:Sanibel Island, Florida, Sanibel
- Music:Stripes
Times I went to the Amarillo municipal courts building.................2
times stood before the judge for a speeding ticket and no insurance....1
miles over the speed limit I got clocked..............................13
approximate age of the officer that cited me..........................12
domestic abuse cases before me......................................
65 year old drug addict women with "hottie" t-shirts on................1
women the judge said were inappropriately dressed for court............3
times I went to the Potter county courts building......................1
new Vera Bradley purses bought..................................
toys I threw away upstairs................................
bacon cheeseburgers consumed................................
glasses of wine drunk...................................
chocolate chips in my homemade ice cream...............................*
boys in Childress with their grandparents............................
husband asleep on the sofa....................................
*come on. I didn't count that. :D
- Location:on the gorgeous setee
- Mood:
mellow - Music:the ice cream maker doing its thang
I know, I know, I've said it before, but this time it's true.
We're having lots of thunderstorms and nasty weather here in the Texas panhandle, and I've been opening the wondows in the house so that I can listen to the rain, because seriously? It doesn't rain here, like ever. So when we get it, it's like a treat.
My internet has been kind of spotty due to the storms, and so I didn't think anything of it when I turned on the TV to get the weather and all I got was snow. I thought, "Huh. Channel 7 must be having issues."
Not so. It was me. I'm the one having issues.
It wasn't until I was having a lunch meeting with my employer and fellow teachers this afternoon that I realized... television went digital here in the states SIX days ago.
We don't have one of those box thingys or cable, and our TVs are both over 12 years old, so we get nada. Zip. Zero.
That's how much TV I watch.
So. The dilemma? Do I get cable? Or a box converter dealy? A new, fancy flatscreen? Or do I just download what I want to watch and squint at the computer screen? Decisions, decisions.
- Location:on the red couch
- Music:Scooby Doo 2
10. Fresh blueberries that don't cost $5 for a handful. Fresh fruit season, in fact. Delightful.
9. Recipe Blogs. The Pioneer woman, in particular.
8. The story for
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small}
ronpansy_fest rocking right along. seegrim and I have a nice little story happening. :) We're at 8,332 words.7. That I can say the whole prologue to Star Trek. (Nolan says this shouldn't make me happy, but assures that I am, in fact really dorky. Something you and I already knew. *wink*)
6. Children laughing as they play in the sprinkler. The fact that my kids are still entertained by doing so.
5. My ipod jack for the car. Tunes. Always make me happy. AC/DC with the sunroof open.
4. Friends keeping me company on the phone while I grocery shop.
3. Clean sheet day!
2. Lists. Grocery, to do, and the satisfaction that comes from crossing things off of them.
1. Winning stuff!
My sister and her cute family arrive tonight, so I'll be away for most of the weekend - I'll probably be available again Sunday evening. Have a good one, y'all!
- Location:in the breakfast nook
- Mood:
tired - Music:Transformers the video game
And I have no one to blame but myself.
Today, I went by the theatre to retrieve my script so that I could study lines this weekend, and the director asked me if I could go over to the place where they store the costumes so that I could try some on. We pulled a few; some vintage 1950's dresses, some reconstructions, and some that were truly gorgeous. Well, I found a few that would work, with a little altering here and there (Seriously - did women in the 1950's have no breasts?), but there was one that was really beautiful. A great color (deep turquoise and green), a great cut, perfect for the character, for the era, everything. I saved it to try on 'til last.
I got it over my head just fine, and even over my hips, but then it was as if something snapped horribly into place. The arms of this dress turned into a torture device. I could not get it the rest of the way on, and I could not get it off. I spent about 45 minutes with a seam ripper being held at odd angles, indeed... trying not to destroy this charming vintage costume which is probably worth quite a bit. I swore. I prayed. I cried. I bargained with God and the dress. I considered setting the dress on fire. I considered setting myself on fire.
Finally, with MUCH trepidation, I called my husband. After he finished LAUGHING HYSTERICALLY, I explained my dilemma, and currently am sitting in this 1950's silk version of the rack waiting for him to come and rescue me from its evil clutches.
I have spent the last HOUR AND A HALF trapped. Because I've gained a little too much weight in the last six months for vintage couture to really go over my apparently ham sized arms, damn it.
When I get out of this thing, I'm GOING TO MAKE IT WORK. Adding fabric, easing seam allowances - whatever. I'm reworking this bad boy and if it KILLS me, I'm going to wear this freaking thing in the show. I didn't cut it off of me because the costumer in me wouldn't allow it, but I refuse to be defeated by a dress.
Even if I have. A little bit.
Hurry up, Nolan. It hurts.
- Location:my bedroom
- Mood:
indescribable
I'm a mom, so not much makes me squeamish anymore; but I'll cut it for those of you who still have weak stomachs.
( Because I'm a nice girl. )
Anyway, Nolan actually came into the kitchen and finished helping to make dinner, (which was really excellent - lots of leftovers) and he cleaned up afterward, which was a Christmas miracle in September. So anyway. No cooking blog because I was traumatized and whatnot.
And my pointer finger is the one I use to take the pictures. ;)
- Location:on a kitchen barstool
- Music:silence
- Location:bed
- Mood: exhausted
- Music:SNORING. Like LOUD snoring.
My desktop is ded.
Poor thing. he's only three years old, and yet he's been in the shop more than any car that I've ever had, like EVER.
It has a blue screen that says:
A problem has been detected... (No crap. Really? A problem? You're kidding.)
INMOUNTABLE_BOOT_VOLUME (WTC is that? It's started fine every other time I've ever tried to use it.)
It then goes on to say in that blithe, charming techn-o speak that I should restart in safe mode, and that I need to check with my hardware or software manufacturers for any updates I might need. (Yes. I'll get right on that.)
Next paragraph of the blue screen on doom says that I should disable any newly installed hardware. And that I should disable BIOS memory options such as caching or shadowing. (What the-- Huh? I never cache. And I very rarely shadow.)
But the charming thing wont even let me restart in safe mode. So, the computer guy has been called, and he's going to make a house call. He said that it SOUNDED like my hard drive has crashed. (Thank you, Sunshine.) If indeed the desktop is salvageable, I'm going to have the CD drive replaced as well, since I broke that the first of January.
But what does this mean? The podcast I've been working on is on that computer, as is every other audio file I've ever recorded. Bah, humbug. Everything else in life is just dandy, though :) Hope you all have a lovely week.
- Location:breakfast nook
- Mood: busy
- Music:Plenty - Sarah McLachlin
Any thoughts on what I should do? *is scared for Aidan*
Also, where the crap did I put the suitcases? Seriously. I've looked for 30 minutes. Where are they?
And lastly,
HAPPY BIRTHDAY
nbaeker! You're both adorable and loved. - Location:office desktop
- Mood:concerned
- Music:Star Wars Legos on the X-Box
I fell AGAIN last night, while putting flyers in the for sale thing in front of the house. It's idiotic, is what it is. Once is a mistake, twice is a klutziness epidemic. I hurt. *pout*
Had what seemed like hudreds of people over to the house last night, and it seemed to go well. I love entertaining.
Also, I was in the grocery store this morning, and I had a realization.
Muzak makes me want to poke out both eyes simultaneously.
Because you know you know the song, but you can't place it because they've sucked out whatever awesomeness it had, butchering it by making it SOOTHING. Or worse, you find yourself SINGING ALONG. Not cool. So then you must turn up Quiet Riot when you get back in the car so you get some of your coolness back that has been so heinously sucked out by the Muzak.
And I didn't kill my husband when he asked me to make 3 pies for his luncheon today, then changed his mind after I did all the shopping and started them. He's still alive and EVERYTHING. How many points is that worth?
( Caliga )
Off to work at the theatre this morning. And this afternoon, as well. WORK? What the heck, right? I don't WORK.
- Location:dining room, on my newly recovered chairs!
- Mood:
cold - Music:Dreams - The Cranberries
So.
I fell yesterday. Not an horrific fall, but an 'I'm walking really fast in my boots with the three inch heels and step of a curb' fall. Pratfall. Carole Lombard. Lucille Ball. Dick Van Dyke. I'm sure it looked idiotic. Nolan (who was sitting in the car with his dad at the time) said it looked like I fell out of frame. Not only did I fall, but I fell ON MY BUTT in a big mud puddle. In front of my husband and father-in-law. And then I SWORE. Twice. Not the big guns, but definitely inappropriate around the father-in-law. However, Nolan said he read my lips in the rear view mirror as they were driving away, and that he might have to wash my mouth out with soap. I say I saved the worst for when no one was around and he should be grateful.
The really bad part? Today I ache. ALL OVER. My arms, my back, my legs. Seriously. I'm 35, not 85; I should be able to take a little spill and bounce right back, right? Evidently not. Stupid traitorous body.
And one of Nolan's employees stepped through the ceiling in the master bathroom in the new house. Tell me why it had to be one of OUR guys? Why couldn't it have been one of the other million yahoos that are working out there? The house is coming along, though. I dunno if it'll be March 1 like they said, but I can hope.
- Location:bed
- Mood:
sore - Music:Killer Queen - Queen
Anyway. I thought Monday sucked out loud. I can say that now, having perspective, and I know unequivocally and beyond a shadow of a doubt that yes, indeed, Monday did suck.
I got a raging headache from eating things I know that I shoudn't. NO MORE DEVIATIONS. NO sugar. I don't care if people say I'm weird or not. 'Eff 'em and feed 'em fish heads,' my sweetly eloquent husband says.
BIL's father died. He was a sweet man. We're going to Denver on Sunday for the funeral. It's a 16 hour drive round trip, or $1600 in airfare. We drive. Be back Tuesday.
And when did I get to the age that I go to more funerals than weddings? Seriously. I take it back. I WANT to buy blenders and sit through wooden readings of 1 Cornthians 13. Please.
My week has been consumed with trying to sell this house or making decisions on the other one. I swear if the flooring lady calls ONE MORE TIME, I will end her. She's old, too. I could totally take her. BAM. Just a clothesline and an elbow drop, and she's done. (I'm kidding. Sorta. Mostly.)
I made videos of the interior rooms of the old house, more for me and the boys than for anyone else, but if I get ambitious, I might post them. Gotta keep the stalkers happy. *waves at the stalkers*
Playwrighting. Arriving late and leaving early and not contibuting while you're there is not going to get a play written. (It's a fabulous premise this semester, but I'm not writing it. Completely fabulous, and could be flipping hysterical... Still not writing it. There was some action on Google docs yesterday, so that's encouraging.)
Caliga. Still adore Caliga. Still. Though, Pansy's getting so very tired of being a captive. I think she's going to make her move soon. I hope she lives. She wants to play with the new vampire friend! And hug on Cormac. What a sweetheart. He doesn't even know it, which is, I think, the best part. Lots of scenes going on right now. Super fun. *Huggles the people*
As for Michael, his life is so sweet and perfect that I find myself JEALOUS OF MY OWN FICTIONAL CHARACTER.
Clearly, I need therapy. Will I go? No, for I am too busy freaking out about picking out cabinet pulls for the house. Somebody shoot me, please. Or maybe just come to Amarillo and help. I'll buy you lunch and keep you entertained while you're here.
I was supposed to meet with Steph today. It snowed three inches last night. I hate driving on snow. (Celeste, Jessica, Mallory and Vicky can call me a wimp. I'm not an excellent driver when there's NO white stuff all over.) It was 65 earlier this week and now it's freezing. That always makes my body freak out. Pick a temperature, y'all. Either one. I'm fine with either.
Gotta get the munchkins up for school. Darn it. I have a cute kid story, too. Maybe later.
- Location:bed
- Mood:
thoughtful - Music:Katie's still snoring. :)
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