Boo!

Written in 2010

Halloween is a strange holiday.  Some have said it comes from the Romans...Others from the Irish, Welsh and Scots.  A LONG time ago.  Back then, it had nothing to do with getting candy, bobbing for apples or trying to scare the crap out of your neighbor.  Probably.  It also had nothing to do with dressing up.  Probably!

Nowadays, people dress up to be the complete opposite of what they are...or dress up to be what they wish they could be.  And then they get drunk.  And act stupid.  Flirt like they wouldn't.  Maybe hook up.  And blame it on the holiday.
 
My radio station holds a party every year and this was the first time I could go.  I begged for suggestions as to what I should go as...I REALLY was looking for something unique and unexpected.  Realized quickly that I was going to have to fend for myself.


After a semi-laid back Friday in this little lace lingerie thingy, I decided to go as something that I kind of was....a black widow spider.  I've had three major relationships that I 'ruined'....and I had the perfect excuse to wear lingerie in public and make fun of myself.


All but one of my radio station coworkers and friends had NO IDEA who I was.  I guess that's what happens when you let the girls out to play!   I got looks ( and second and third looks) all night long.  While it was fun being incognito for a bit...I wish I'd get hit on 1/16th of the times I was hit on while I was in costume.

I wrote this last year around this time.  I never posted it but was reminded of it today when Bubs asked me what I was going to go as for Halloween.  He didn't see the humor when I said:  "What, you don't think a middle-aged Mommy wearing track pants and NO makeup is scary enough?!"

Smells Like Pre-Pre-Pre Teen Spirit

It's 7:14 (CST) and I am exhausted.  It could have been the 10 miles I walked, or the five lawns that I raked...Oh wait - that wasn't me.  I've been pretty much sitting on my ass all day.

I think I'm still having a lack-of-energy-hangover from watching Ev and the Bubs run around like maniacs at the NU game last night.  They. Did. Not. Stop.  Not once.

They aren't misbehaved...well not in the 'push the kids over to get the toys they want' kind of way (at least not anymore.  There was that wrestling incident over a lego car when the Bubs was 18 months.  Hard labor and the withholding of Gerber Graduates Fruit Puffs took care of that.)  Admittedly, they ARE a little hard of hearing.  Unless a key word or phrase is spoken.  Like "Power Rangers,"  "Ninjas," "Dragonball Z," "Toys," "Candy," "Cookies," oh, and "Pokemon."  But if it's something off-the-wall like "BOYS!  Please stop running!"  "BOYS!  Please stay by Mommy!"  "BOYS!  Please hold the railing" - nope, not hearing it.

And to make matters worse, they are cute as hell, as showcased below:

Evan has this trick that he does with his eyes that will guarantee the girls following him around like he's the Pied Piper and they're the town rats.  Ethan holds his own...just when you think he broke the last straw..he will come close and say, "huggy??"  Awwww.

Anyway.  Strangers, acquaintances, friends and family alike will spend a slice of time with my love bugs and stagger away, uttering... "wow, your boys sure do have a lot of energy."  or "They are certainly rambunctious, aren't they?"  And to make matters worse (AGAIN), when they find an NEW adult, they put on the most fabulous act of two little boys who NEVER have anyone listen to them.  (cue Oliver Twist voice here) "Please Ma'am, may I have a'nother slice of attention??"  I feel compelled to assure my peers that the boys DO NOT spend 24 hours a day chained in a dark cell.    (Ooooh...Oscar night!  I wonder what I should wear on the red carpet!)

I don't know where they get it from.  Granted, my sister was younger than I was...I didn't have the built in playmate that my kids have to feed off of...and I DID run around when I got together with the neighbor kids or my cousins...but that kind of energy 24/7?

We need to find a way to capture it.  Spritz it on.  And bite the bullet when the someone sniffs the air around us and inquires, "why do you smell like little boys' armpits?"

Team Sookie

In looking back over the past few months, I have come to the conclusion that I've been entirely way too whiny.  (I don't have a job; I don't have sex; My car is broken; I hate public aid WHAAA WHAAA WHAAA)  Of course, it helped that some of you told me so - via text, email, voice mail, phone call, carrier pigeon, skywriting plane, electric sign on the blimp....okay, okay, OKAY!  I get it!  I'm not special and need to GET OVER myself!

"Marr, Pity Party Table of One, your padded room is now available!"

My aunt told me I have guts yesterday.  I'm still working on trying to believe her.  Guts?  Me?  "Jeni Marr has guts" was never a sentence I heard floating around me.  Maybe it's time.

In all honesty, my boot-straps epiphany comes due to a series of books that I am reading.

Don't laugh.  Well, okay.  You can laugh.

Spoiler alert!!!!

Sookie Stackhouse can wind up almost dead in every single "Dead" book and that girl just keeps plugging along.  Sure, she was depressed when she finds out Bill only wooed her because the queen of Louisiana told him too.  But, then she met the tiger and Bill was forgotten.  Or was it the werewolf first?  For a virgin, that Sookie sure picked up the dating thing pretty quick. (jealous)  And sure, the last attack by the psycho faes nearly broke her...but she was suiting up in her bikini to worship the sun in no time.

So no, I'm not a telepath.  (Thank the Lord).  And no, we really don't live in a world where vampires and two-natureds walk among us (um, maybe),   But Charlaine Harris has a knack of showing how having a little pluck can go a long way.  Of course it doesn't hurt to have a little fairy blood in you too...and be under the protection the a hot vampire...but I digress.

Being on Team Sookie has provided me an entertaining way to gauge my 'disappointments' against a woman, albeit fictional, that literally gets her ass kicked.  Over and Over and Over and Over.

No guts, no glory, my dad always said.  I'll take the guts and run with it!

Are you shaking your head at me?  Whew!  I'm back in the game! :)

Self Judgment

What a blow to the ego.  While I never did fit in with my peers at my esteemed alma mater, I'm very glad right now that I don't have an alumnus cling on the back window of my van.  It wouldn't be their best marketing move.

I guess I'm one of those 'welfare people' that no one wants to be.

But I'll tell you this:  I HATE the fact that I had to apply for unemployment.  Or food assistance.  Or medical assistance.  And I'm sure as shit not going to go try to snare a 'SD'.

However, my little guys don't understand.  They just love the fact that Mommy can pick them up at the bus stop.  And spend time with them.  And redo their room.  And fix them lunch.  They don't understand that Mommy can only do that because she can't get an outside job that will provide MUCH more money than unemployment and MUCH more security (theirs).

You'll never judge me as hard as I judge myself...