The NEW adventures of old Amanda

A compilation of (true) short stories by Amanda Odom

The Robe and the Principal.

I drive my kids to school every morning. I pull in the parking lot behind the train of cars. Drive the loop, open my back doors to let the boys out and finish the loop to exit the lot. MOST mornings I am running late. MOST mornings I wear only my robe to drop them off. MOST mornings its no big deal.

THIS morning was different. It was like a lot of mornings. I was taking the boys to school. I was wearing my robe. My hair was a mess, not brushed. BUT... this morning I was early. That was my first mistake. Ok, maybe my first mistake was wearing the robe to take the boys - but thats not the point!

So I pull up. I only let the boys out if I am either the first second or third car back. I was the fourth car back. So the first three unload their kids and pull off. As they pull off I am pulling foward and notice their school principal standing outside greeting the kids. I made sure to not make eye contact (I'm not really on her good side at the moment anyway). THEN out of the corner of my eye - as I am shutting the automatic sliding doors on my van - I see her coming running towards my car. waving her hands. I take a deep breath. I roll down my passenger side window (tried to do it just a little but she is so short I had to roll it all of the way down). Because she is on the passenger side she can see everything. My hair, my robe, my bare leg sticking out of my robe. It was not good. I was so embarrassed. I couldn't even hear what she was saying because I couldn't stop thinking about the fact that I was in my ROBE.

She finished talking and I could say was Yes. That would be great. Thank you. But what was I saying it to? What had she said? I looked away. Rolled up my window. And high tailed it out of there! Have I just agreed to higher tuition? Have I just agreed to run a committee? Have I just agreed to do some volunteer work? Have I just agreed to have my son tortured? What have I done. Whatever it is, I am sure I will find out. I said yes after all.

Therapy Gone Wrong

After I left my husband I realized that it would be best to have my children start seeing a therapist just to make sure they were handling all of the change ok. I was being a great parent. I was being proactive instead of reactive. I was doing the right thing.

When I decided this should happen I started researching the therapists on my insurance plan. I realized you do not get to know a whole lot about the therapist before you allow your child to see them. How do you know who your kids are talking to? How do you know they are not brainwashing them? You don't know.

I thought my best option was to set up a meeting for me to meet with the therapist first. This way I could give her a background history on the boys and I could get a feel for her and see if I think the boys would be comfortable with her.

I call the office. I explain to the receptionist what I am doing. She just does not understand. She thinks this is very odd. But she goes ahead with it. However; she is making me use an entire 45 min appt and pay the full fee. I begrudgingly go along with it. I make the appointment.

I show up at the office. I go in to meet the therapist. She is an older, oddly shapped woman (reminded me of Mrs. V from highschool for some reason). I sat down. She started asking me questions. I started talking. And talking. And talking. I had a lot to say. The 45 min came and went. An hour came and went.

An hour and 15 min later I was finished. I asked her if I should schedule the appointments for the boys with her or with the receptionist.

She looked at me and said "Oh honey, I think the boys can wait for awhile. You need to come in to see me for awhile. We have a lot to work on with you first."

THAT was the last time we saw that CRAZY woman!!!

That's My Boy!

Noah talked me into letting him play football this year. It was completely against my better judgment. But he was so excited and so enthusiastic that I could not disappoint him. I said yes.

$250 dollars later Noah was a football player. Now, I am a single mom. A single mom that has only watched a handful of football games and those times were probably only to impress some guy. I have NO clue about football at all.

Noah is in the third grade. He is on the third/fourth grade team. Most of these kids have been playing since kindergarten. This is Noah's first year. I can not help him in anyway. So I know this year is going to be a sideline kind of year. But that is ok. He loves it. I love seeing him happy.

I take him to practices. He loves it. He has his first scrimmage. Of course he should be able to play since it is just a scrimmage and doesn't count for anything. By the THIRD scrimmage game he hasn't played once. So during the third game (the last game of the scrimmage) at the end I started bitching to one of the parents about how Noah didn't get to play at all. That all of the other children had. I was upset that I was paying $250 for him to play and he wasn't even getting to play for the scrimmage. As I was bitching I looked up and realized that I missed him play in the very last play of the game. So I learned - don't bitch anymore - just watch the game.

Then he has a game. His first game. He gets to play on the kick off team (maybe kick off return, i don't know the difference). Our team kicks the ball. The other team tries to catch it and our team tries to tackle the guy with the ball.

The other team caught the ball and the kid was running it. He was getting pretty far and out team can't catch him. Then all of the sudden - out of no where - Noah runs and tackles the kid. It was so amazing it was GREAT.

Game TWO. I am so proud of Noah from the last game and I SURE he will be playing in this game. So when they asked who wanted to volunteer to be a part of the "chain gang" I agreed to do it. This way I would HAVE to pay attention to the game and possibly I might learn something.

Near the end of the game Noah gets to go in for the opposite of the what ever the last kick off team was. The other team was kicking the ball and our team was catching. So I am watching. The team kicks the ball. Our team runs for it. NOAH picks up the ball and starts running with it. Everyone is screaming and yelling. I am cheering as loud as I can. I am right next to him. I am screaming "RUN NOAH, RUN!" He is so close to a touchdown and two guys from the other team are on his tail. I am screaming "THAT'S MY BOY!!!"

THEN I realize people are screaming "NO!! NOAH, NO!!" I looked at someone and they were like he's running the wrong way! So then I suddenly scream "THAT'S NOT MY BOY!!" Finally the other team tackles Noah just before he makes a touchdown for the other team. Which would have given them another 2 points (I believe its 2). Thank GOD the other team didn't have a clue either. LOL.

OPPS!

I just started using the "text" feature of my phone this past June. I still don't have it down completely, although I MUST say I am much better than I was. I can even text while driving!!!

About a month ago I received an incredibly sweet text message from my boyfriend. I wanted to share it with Brenda (we are going through this whole dating as an adult thing together) my friend. So before I just forwarded her the text I wanted to text her to tell her what I was doing. I have NEVER forwarded any texts. So this was a new experience. So I send her a text that says "I am forwarding you a text from P. He is so sweet." Then I forward her the text.

The next thing I know I get a text from P that says "who are you forwarding my text to?" So, in a moment of panic I try to cover it up. So I responded with "I was trying to reply to your message guess I didn't do it right". Thinking I had forwarded his text to him.

Then I receive another text from him - forwarding to me the text that I had sent to Brenda telling her that I was forwarding the text to her!!!!!!! I was caught. Not only was I caught for forwarding the text but I was caught in covering up the fact that I was forwarding the text.

I have got to get my texting and covering up under control!!!!

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That is all of my stories for now. I will post more soon. I wanted to mention that I will be starting a new blog soon. It will be by invitation only. I will be blogging about my dating adventures. A certain someone (the subject of the blog) will not be invited to view so I can say anything and everything I want :) Please let me know if you want to be included on the invitation list.

Near Fatal Shark Attack

At the end of July the boys, my mom and I took a trip to Houston for the birth of my new nephew Garrett Taylor Sullivan. What a trip. I would tell you all about it, but Windi may read this (love you Windi) and this post is just about our near deadly encounter with a Shark in the Gulf of Mexico.

I LOVE the beach. No, I don't. I LOVE the OCEAN. I love sitting in the ocean. Swimming in the ocean. Riding the waves in the ocean. I love the ocean. I could spend all day, every day in the ocean and be the happiest girl in the world. But I can't be alone. I have to have someone with me. Because then I have less of a chance of being the one eaten by a shark.

How could you go on vacation, one hour from the beach and not drive to the beach? I can't imagine it. Evidently, some people just don't care as much about the beach. So, I decided I was going to take one day, pack up the boys and go. Noah is my beach buddy, my ocean buddy. He loves it just as much as I do. Jonah - not so much. But I was taking him anyway.

At the last minute we decide we are going to stop half way and go to visit NASA in Houston. So by the time we got to the beach it was late in the afternoon. Probably around 430. We were so excited to get in the water we threw our shoes and clothes off and went running in. All of us were so excited.

We like to walk out as far as we can. At least up to the boys necks. So we were out there. Enjoying ourselves. There were waves but they weren't too big or high. Actually we wished they could have been a little bigger. But we were enjoying. There were other people around enjoying the day at the beach as well.

We noticed two guys that were out further than we were (the only people further out than us) and we kept watching them. They looked like they were goofing off and having a good time. The boys were dying for me to let them go out that far. But I wouldn't let them.

So I was still paying attention to these guys goofing off. The all of the sudden I saw a fin come up right behind them. Yes a fin. Yes right behind them. It was time that the boys and I high tail it of the water.

I CALMLY grabbed the boys and ran as fast as I could in the ocean without panicking. I said a short prayer for myself, the boys and the two guys getting ready to be eaten by the shark. I couldn't tell the boys what was wrong because I didn't want them to panic and I didn't want to panic other people.

I didn't want them to panic cuz if they started splashing around the shark might come after us. I didn't want to panic other people because what if it really wasn't a shark and I was just seeing things.

So we got out of the water. We are standing on the beach. I am just waiting for the two guys to be eaten. I am waiting for one of them to suddenly be pulled under the water. I felt so bad for knowing there was a shark surrounding them and swimming right next to them and I was not doing anything about it. But what was I to do? What if it wasn't a shark and I would look like an idiot and panic all of these people for nothing. But isn't someone's life more important than my pride and a short panic attack for a hundred people? Evidently, I decided not so. I just stood there. I couldn't do anything but pray and watch. Does that make me terrible.

So Noah looks up at me and he is like "Mommy - why can't we get in the water?" I quietly tell him because I saw a shark in the water. But don't say anything cuz we don't want to panic people if mommy is wrong. So I pointed out where it was and told him to watch that way. I told my son to watch for two guys to be attacked by a killer shark???!!!! I must have been out of my mind. Considering the fact that on the way down I was reminding my children that sharks DO NOT live in the Gulf of Mexico. I have to tell them that so they will get in the water. Now here I stand telling my boys to watch two mean get eaten by a shark. Is that what happens to a person in survival mode? Probably not normal sane people. But for crazy aluff people it does.

So we stand there. We stand there. We stand there. Nothing is happening. The guys are still splashing around and goofing off. Noah points out that maybe I was just seeing things. Maybe it was a wave. Maybe it was fish jumping. Maybe it was the sun shining on the water. Maybe it was anything but a shark. After about 10 minutes of standing there I decided he must be right. Or the shark just wasn't hungry.

I decided to go with Noah's theory. The boys and I went back into the water. We cautiously went further and further out into the water. But I was on guard. Complete guard. My eyes scanning the water all around us at all times. The boys both on each of my hips. But not to worry we were still having a great time. Just a cautious great time.

All was great. It was like an hour later. Still having a great time cautiously. Then I noticed the guys that I had been staring at for like an hour just waiting for them to be eaten started heading my way. I didn't notice at first but then when they were on top of us I realized they were coming to us. :)

They introduced themselves to me. And then proceeded to tell me that they should warn me. Before they got a word out - I blurted out "that there is a shark swimming around??!!" They started laughing and said no. no. But why would they laugh at that? I mean who laughs at the fact that someone thinks there is a shark in the water?

So in my still panicked voice I ask them what then? What are they warning me about? They said there was a dolphin about 7 foot long swimming around. They just didn't want it to scare me. I was like - YOU ARE JUST NOW TELLING ME THIS????? I have been freaked out for over an hour over a dolphin??!!

So after I got over being upset with them for not telling us sooner I proceeded to tell them how I thought it was a shark. How I saw it swim around them. How I got the heck out of dodge and just waited for them to be eaten. How I was sure that any moment they were going to drug under water and eaten. How I felt my pride was more important than their lives. Somehow they were not offended by this. They just laughed and laughed. I think, no wait, I know I would have been like wth???!!! You were just going to leave me to be eaten? To just die while you stood and watched. But they didn't think this way.

So at the end of the day, we got to see a dolphin swim about 50 yards from us. That is pretty cool. We nearly died from a shark attack, but we saw a dolphin swim in front of us in the wild. It was a great day at the beach. Thank God we are all alive.

I was over analyzing

This will be short and sweet. I was COMPLETELY over-analyzing. It was bad. I even dreamt about it that night. Spell check says dreamt is not a word. But I am telling you it is. Dreaming is a verb. There has to be a past tense version and dreamed just does not sound right. :)

So back to over-analyzing. Everything is great. Great person. Am I a needy person, maybe? I don't think I am. So anyway - just a close to this - I have no doubts in my mind. Until the next time there is no call of course. lol

Shark story to follow soon. I promise.

its 12:08 and no phone call

I had to delete this blog so it would not be read. :) Go figure :)


Amanda

Independence

Lately I have thought a lot about independence. Independence in my own life and independence for my children. I don't think I really like independence for myself and definitely not for my children. :)

I want to be independent. No wait. I want people to think I am independent. But really I don't want to be. Independence means responsibility. It means you are solely responsible. It means you don't depend on anyone else to do anything for you. Thats not me. I want to have someone take care of me. I do. Now I would never admit this to anyone. I want people to believe I am a VERY independent woman. But really, I want someone to pay my bills for me (it can be with my money, but just make sure they are paid), cook me dinner, wash my laundry, cut my grass (oh wait I have someone to do that!) make my decisions, fill my car with gas, clean my bathroom, clean the litter box, have my oil changed, go grocery shopping and nanny my kids. Heck I would love someone to go to work for me too. Part time anyway.

So I think that means I am lazy. Pure lazy. But - honestly, is there anyone out there that really enjoys those things? Its not that I don't do those things. I just hate doing them. Being independent (and single) means you have to do all of those things yourself. No one else is going to do them for you. You HAVE to do them. All on your own. So, yes I am independent. Yes I take care of my responsibilities. No, I do not enjoy them. Yes I wish someone else would do them for me. No, I wouldn't be lazy - I would do tons of other things - just all fun things. Like go to the pool with the kids everyday. Be on Big Brother (thats for you Cindy!), visit Italy, take up scrapbooking, write more blogs, go skydiving and the list could go on for ever. Thats not lazy right?

Now the funny thing is, as much as I am fighting myself having to be independent, I am fighting my kids not to be. Noah is only eight. He would say he is eight going on 30. I told him if that were the case he wouldn't want to be independent! LOL He wasn't understanding. But as a mom you realize you have to start letting go. Letting them be a little more independent. So I am taking baby steps. Its been scary. This is my story in first steps of baby steps.

I work from home on Mondays and Wednesdays so I can stay at home with the boys. I work in my bedroom, in my bed, in the mornings. I have been letting the boys get up and make their own breakfasts (poptarts). It has worked out great because they get to feel independent and I get to feel less responsible. Well it was working out great.

One morning I was in bed working. Yes, I was working. The most comfortable place in the world to sit on my laptop and work. Up the stairs comes Jonah. I can already hear the whine in his footsteps up the stairs. In the room he comes with his whiney footsteps. "Mommy?" he says. "Yes, Jonah?" I respond. "The pizza fell out of the refrigerator and I can't put it back."

At this point I need to explain. The night before we had pizza for dinner. We had leftovers so I crammed the leftovers into a container too small. It all fit but it was smashed in there.

I asked Jonah what he was doing in the refrigerator and he said he was looking for something to eat. It was probably around 11 am. I suggested to him to just eat the pizza. He asked how he was going to heat it up. I at first told him to just eat it cold and when he complained I told him to stick it in the microwave and hit the "EZ button" once. This is the button on my microwave that automatically puts 45 sec on and starts the microwave. He said ok and went downstairs. I didn't hear anything more from him.

That afternoon after hours of work in bed I got up and went downstairs to get something to eat. This is where the story gets good. I walk into the kitchen and notice a frozen pizza (not frozen anymore) wrapper sitting on the stove. I called for Noah. I asked him how he heated the pizza up. He said in the microwave. I couldn't believe it.

Evidently, Jonah was actually in the freezer and the frozen pizza fell out. So the boys took that pizza, unwrapped it and put it on a plate. They then put it in the microwave. I asked them how long they cooked it. They said the just kept hitting the "pizza" button until it was hot! I was laughing so hard I couldn't hardly contain myself. Noah couldn't figure out what in the world was so funny.

So I asked if they ate it. They said yes. The entire pizza. So my poor kids ate an entire frozen pizza that had been microwaved. That is what I call letting your kids be independent.

Thats my story on independence. I still don't really want to be independent and the boys are still pushing to be.

To just one person

I am writing this blog only because this is my only way of being able to communicate with one person. I know you read my blog every morning, when I have new posts. I can't reach out to you in any other way. I know you know who you are. :) I have not heard from you in awhile so call me and let me know things are going well.

For everyone else - I will be blogging tonite. I have lots to write about. :) Thanks for reading my blogs!

Amanda

Catch me before I fall.

Is it really so bad to be Gigi? And if I am and it is bad, how do I make myself not be?

I am like Gigi in a lot of ways. FIRST: I think things went really well - so I know he's going to call. If he doesn't its because he's busy, out of town, lost my number or - my best excuse - he liked me so much it scared him! Yeah that one is a good one :) SECOND: I also check my email or my phone constantly hoping I will hear from him. Every ding I hear on my email I look quickly to see if it is from him. Then its not (ok sometimes it is - but 98% of the time its not). I know crazy right? But - I'm not crazy. I just look forward to hearing from people I like. I even do it to Leslie. My cousin. I know she likes me (right, Leslie?) Or any friend for that matter. Anyone I like. It should be a good thing to look forward to hearing from the person you like. THIRD: I over analyze. I over analyze everything. I over analyze good stuff and I over analyze bad stuff. I should just see it for what it is. But is it ever? For me its pretty much not. Except - for the time it should have been thought out and it wasn't then its hard to explain how it really was nothing - not thought out. But usually - everything I say and do is for some reason - not playing games - but putting thought into it. So I tend to assume EVERYONE is like that. "so he said this - so it HAS to mean that". Yeah I know I am not the only one to do this. Gigi does it. LAST - but not least: I fall too easily. This is my issue I have to deal with first. The other stuff... it will come in time.

I have a track record for falling easily for a guy. It has not proven to be a very good thing. At all. I have been hurt VERY badly by doing this. I promised myself I would NEVER let it happen again. I don't intentionally do this. In fact my every intention is to get to know someone slowly. To just have fun. To not get serious. I don't need serious. I don't need complicated. I don't need drama. I am still learning about me. I am still enjoying being single. I am still enjoying my freedom. I am enjoying having a great time out with friends. I don't need serious.

So what happens? I know its not the guy trying to get complicated. How do I let myself feel serious. Feel complicated. How do I let myself feel? Why do I get so attracted. Why do I like them so easily. Why do I let myself feel? I just want to have fun. I just want to be liked. I just want someone to want to be around me. But I don't want to feel.

I don't feel for just anyone. Or I don't think I do. I am picky. I have my standards. I stick by them. You don't go to church - not for me. You can't support yourself - not for me. You don't know how to make me laugh - not for me. You have no ambitions - not for me. You don't know how to be independent - not for me. You don't open my door - not for me. I don't fall for those guys. I did that once. I won't do it again. So maybe I could say that the reason I am falling so hard is that I pick the ones I know could be for me. So its easy to fall. I know its not true. But thats how I justify my issue. But thats it. I shouldn't have to justify. I want to feel.

Why wouldn't you want to feel? Why would you not want to like someone? Why would you push someone away just because you like them? Yeah - I do tend to like someone quickly. But not everyone. There are some that I should like. I should want to see them everytime I have a chance. But I don't. I don't feel them. But - the issue - the issue is the ones I do like.

So we go out. We go out. We go out together so I can stop thinking about the one person that I wished would think about me. I knew I wouldn't like him. He's too young. He's a pilot. He's just going to be for fun. He's just going to be to help me get beyond wanting someone that doesn't want me. We go out. We have a great time. We can't stop talking. We can't stop laughing. We can't stop having fun. We are funny. We are goofy. We are smart. We are fun. We are conversationalists. We are. We just are. We like each other. So a second date.

More talking. More laughing. More conversations. More fun. More like. We have another great time. I like him more. I like being around him. I like the way he makes me feel. Ohhh. There is that feel thing. I want to feel. I don't want to feel. I should feel. I shouldn't feel. I wasn't supposed to feel. I am feeling.

Third date and fourth date and fifth date. Talking. Laughing. Dancing. Eating. Smiling. Drinking. Laughing. Looking. Talking. Dancing. Laughing. Talking. Feeling. Liking. Feeling. Why? Why do I feel? I should just be having fun, right? Just having fun. But he makes me like him. He makes me. He does. He makes me laugh. He makes me smile. He makes me feel. I shouldn't feel.

So I know I am falling. I am know I am. I don't want to. It's crazy. We don't know each other. We have known each other for not even two weeks. For five dates? Its scary. He's going to break my heart. I don't want him to. I don't want him to hurt me. I don't want to hurt. I don't want to feel.

How do I not feel? How do I turn it off? How do I step back from someone I want to step closer to? How do I push someone away that I like so easily? Why would I want to? Why wouldn't I want to like someone? Why wouldn't I want someone to like me. Why do I want to not feel? Feeling is good. It feels good. He likes me. I know. I know because he tells me. Its not a guessing game (for the most part).

We both know we shouldn't like each other. I should not like him. He should not like me. It's been 10 days. So we have to stop liking each other. We have to put on the brakes. Be careful of what we say. Make sure we don't let the other person think we like them too much. We have to have awkward "not sure what to say, cause it might mean something" conversations. We have to stop making each other like us. We have to stop. We can't feel this way. We can't feel. Its been 10 days.

That is CRAZY. I like him. He likes me. Why can't we tell each other that. Instead we text "ok" and "no" back and forth because thats all we can say because we can't say I like you. So we have this goofy thing - that we know in our heads what it means but thats not what it says so its ok to say it. So when he is thinking of me he texts "ok". Then I text "ok" back because I am thinking of him. Then he says "ok" and I say "no". Because I can't feel. I can't think of him. I can't like him. So he says "no". He can't feel. He can't think of me. He can't like me. Thats it. Until the next "ok".

So I need to know how to stop. How to stop feeling. How to stop liking. How to stop falling. How to stop getting hurt. I don't know how. I don't even know why. I just know I need to stop.

My Feet.

Some of you probably have an idea about what I am going to write about by just seeing my title. Some you may already be giggling. Some of you may already have flashbacks of my feet. Those of you - I would have to say - are my dearest friends. Only you get to experience "my feet". Only you.

For the rest of you - WELCOME to my world. I am going to let you in on a big, embarrassing, secret of mine. My feet stink. No really - my feet STINK. Not just a normal stink. Like feet normally stink. This is an all time CRAZY stink. This is a stink like no other. Like a "walk into a room with my shoes on and people are asking - Oh God, what is that smell?" type of stink. Seriously bad stink. A stink that my dog likes to roll around in, instead of manure. That kind of stink. But hold on a second. I should explain - I come by this naturally. My dad's feet - worse than mine. Yes, seriously - worse than mine. Hard to imagine but they are.

When I was younger it was a big joke. Of course I always tormented my sister with them. Most likely why she HATES feet so much today.
In the summer when we were in my car driving places with friends in the car that were getting on my nerves or acting like fools - I would roll up all of my windows, turn the heat on full blast and take my shoes off and put my foot in front of the vent (yes, while driving). This was especially fun when Angela Shircliff (love you!!) was in the car. She is very dramatic. Of course the whole car would start smelling. Everyone screaming and yelling. It was so much fun. :)

Then as I got a little older (just a little) it became a test for my boyfriends. If they were willing to massage and rub lotion on my feet - they were good enough to keep around for awhile! Maybe that's why I hung on to Aaron for so long!! HaHa!!!

During my marriage. My feet caused some issues during my marriage. At first (during the trying to impress me stage) he was so willing to rub them. To massage them. To put lotion on them. Then it was like a flick of a light switch. He hated them. I actually had the nerve to tell me to wash my feet before I crawled into bed!!!! HA. Maybe if he would have asked - but to tell me!!! So when I would get ticked at him - guess what my feet where near by to help me get my way. :)

So today. Today I am sitting at my desk. I am at my desk wearing my pretty "bejeweled" sandals that I just love wearing. They dress up anything. I got them from my mother-in-law. My toenails are painted a nice deep red. Super sexy with my red shirt and the red beads on my shoes. So, I am sitting at my desk. I decide I want to sit at my desk indian style. So I slip off my shoes, pull my fee up into my chair and I relax.

Suddenly - a voice from the other side of the cubicle starts to speak.
"Does anyone else smell that?" she says.
"Smell what?" My boss (across the cubicle aisle) says.
"I don't know, I just got this big woof of something. Is the refrigerator working?" she says
At this point, I know. I already know. Its my feet. So I quietly slip my feet out of my chair and back into my shoes.
"I think its running, I'll check. I don't smell anything though."
"Come over here to smell it."
So now my boss is walking over to smell it. I am sitting at my desk with my headphones on (nothing playing in them, but people tend to leave me alone while they are in) praying that they do not realize it is coming from my desk. Seriously - how FREAKING embarrassing!
My boss walks over to her desk. "I don't smell anything." The small voice takes a big sniff and says "hmm. I don't smell it anymore either." THANK GOD.

I knew it was all my feet. How CRAZY is that. My feet are that bad. So embarrassed. I guess I will know not to take my shoes off at work anymore!

So now, that is the story of my feet. My story. My feet. No comments needed from the peanut gallery. If you are going to love me, you are going to love my feet. We are packaged deal :)

Hope you have a great day today.

Amanda

My time

Tonite is the first night of one week without the boys.  Tonite is my first night of one week of ME time.  As I got ready for this week I made a lot of plans.  A lot of plans for just me.  I scheduled me time for myself.  Whether it is a bike ride, a long walk, a trip to the library or a great nap, I wrote it on my calendar.  This might be normal for some people, but for me its a little out of the ordinary.  Yes, I keep a calendar.  Yes, I put all of my important dates on it.  Yes, that is how I know where to be when.  Yes, I do live by my calendar.  But typically, I never put "me" time on there.  I would never put anything on my calendar like going bike riding or a nap.  Those are things I fit in if I have time.

This week is all about me.  I will only have time for me.  So I put everything on my calendar.  

This past week I had a few things that happened that reminded me how important my time was.  Almost every minute of my life is spent doing something for someone else.  Mostly for the boys, but there is a good portion for others.  I schedule all of that time.  My calendar gets filled quickly, and its all for other people.  Whether its soccer game, PTO, volunteering, birthday party or work.  Its not about me.  So I have decided that for now on I am putting me time on my calendar.  I am putting my bike rides on my calendar.  I am putting naps on my calendar and I am putting long walks to talk to God on my calendar.  The other stuff will have to be planned around me time.  

On the note of time, I learned something else this past week.  Not really what I was going to write about tonite, but it has been bothering me and I really do need to get it off my chest.  If I you are reading this and I am talking about you, maybe you shouldn't be reading this to begin with.  :)  It's my blog and I can talk about anything I want to.  That is what it is for.  I will never mention names if its bad - but I am sure if its about you, you will know who you are.

So what I learned.  I am someone that is almost always late.  I will surprise myself sometimes, but for the most part I am always late.  Everyone that knows me at all, knows this about me.  They pretty much expect it.  Most people will tell me things start 30 min earlier than they actually start so that I will be on time.  Sometimes I am super early! 

I come by all of this pretty naturally - my mom and dad are both the same way.  I think they are worse offenders than me.  My kids have actually missed out on getting the "Spirit Award" on more than one occasion due to be late to school (all my fault).  I have realized that I need to work on this.  Just because "I am always late" and people expect that with me, does not mean it is ok.  It's actually rude and inconsiderate.  I make people wait on me.  I never realized it because I am never the one waiting.  

The other thing I do is cancel or not show up when I am supposed to do something with someone.  I have not done this in a long time, but I have before.  I always have some "excuse" why that is, not usually the truth.  Yes, a white lie.  I don't do it because I don't want to hang out with the person or do something with the person.  It's usually because I have forgotten, made other plans because I forgot or just really don't feel like doing anything at that moment in time.  I never really thought too much about it.  I would say I am sorry and go on.  Now I know how awful that is.  I know how frustrating that is.  I know how irritating that is.  I know how worried you can get.  I know now.  I will never do that again.

The last weekend in May, I had a weekend all too myself.  The boys were in Chicago.  Because I knew I wouldn't have the boys I tried to make plans for the weekend, full of stuff I wanted to do for me.  Just like I have for this coming up week.  Most of my plans consisted of doing something with someone else.  Not all the same person or people.  Friday - I was cleaning, and preparing for dinner for Saturday night.  Saturday morning and afternoon I was going to a Personal Leadership workshop (excellent by the way and I will blog about it soon) Saturday evening I was cooking for someone, Saturday night I was going out dancing with a friend, Sunday morning off to church, Sunday afternoon a friend was coming up from Louisville, Sunday evening catch up on work and maybe a good nap.  

The weekend all unraveled, all in two big swoops - just because one person, no wait two people cancelled plans on me at the last minute.  A whole weekend to myself, ruined because of someone else.  I was so frustrated. I spent an entire week trying to figure out a menu for Saturday night, went grocery shopping for specific ingredients, test cooked the meal ahead of time to be sure it was a good recipe since I had not tried it before, stayed up late Friday to prepare everything I could because I wouldn't have much time to cook Saturday.  Then Saturday morning I got the dreaded email.  Canceling on me.  I at least appreciated the email.  There was a reason for it.  I was not mad or upset.  Disappointed, but I was ok.  He suggested Sunday evening instead.  I said ok.

So I went to church Saturday evening instead, took a nice long nap, convinced myself not to go ahead and eat the dessert I had prepared and then went out with Brenda.  I had a great time with Brenda.  Got home late and was getting ready for bed.  Then I noticed I had two text messages.  My friend from Louisville, canceling on me.  No big deal.  I had plenty to do to prepare for my dinner Sunday and this way I could sleep in.  

I got up Sunday (late), I started with a shower and took my time slowly getting ready for dinner Sunday night.  About 30 min before I was going to start cooking I texted him to be sure he was still coming.  Of course he was, I had not heard otherwise and I was sure that meant he would be there.  I left to go pick up wine glasses because I had completely forgotten I had never brought them from Chris's house and while I was there I got a text.  He was not coming.  He had not heard back from me so he made other plans.  I was so upset.  I was so disappointed.  I had been looking forward to it for a whole week.  I was crushed.  I had gone to so much effort and he didn't care.  So, of course I had to let him know.  But because we can't talk by phone, I had to email him.  I told him how upset I was.  Obviously, he cared less than I thought because he never even emailed back to say he was sorry.  Or anything at all.  

I probably shouldn't not have gotten that upset.  It was just dinner.  Who cares.  I think I was mostly upset, no, I know I was mostly upset because I had missed out my entire weekend because of someone else.  Someone that has a rep for canceling on me.  I should have known better.  I should have made back up plans.  I should never have let someone get to me like that.  I was mad at myself really - but needed to blame someone else of course :). 

Ok - I got off on a tangent (I guess I needed to get that off my chest more than I had realized).  My whole point in this is that I now know how much canceling on someone at the last minute can really ruin their entire day.  I will never do this to someone else again.  It is so frustrating.  It is so irritating and it is a big deal.  If I have ever done this to you, I am so sorry.  I am sorry for doing it, sorry for not saying I was sorry and sorry that I didn't know.  

I know how important my time is to me.  My time is very precious and I don't have much of it.  So when some of it is wasted, I know I will never get it back and it is very upsetting to me.  I now realize that EVERYONE'S time is just as precious as mine.  I promise I will never be disrespectful about it again.  I promise.  

Now I am off to begin my week of "me time" beginning with an early relaxing night in bed.

pure stubborness

I realize I was a little stubborn as a child. But if Noah took after me in that department he got it 100 times worse than I can ever imagine I was. Noah would rather sit in a chair from the time he gets home from school until he goes to bed with no end in sight than clean his room. I need to advice on what to do. I will start from the beginning.

The boys are expected to clean their room. However I let them get away with not doing it for a little while. Then it was time to clean. It was the Sunday before Easter. They had a week to clean it. Should have gotten it done in one evening. I explained to them that they could not have friends over, play on the computer, watch tv or play wii until it was clean. I couldn't take away outside play because its so good for them to play outside.

They refused to clean. In fact I think it got worse. So I told them that if they did not clean I was going to call the Easter bunny and tell him not to come. The boys got scared. Told me they were going to clean. They didn't. The next day I reminded them that the Easter bunny would not be coming if their room did not get cleaned. The day of the deadline came. The room was still not clean. I reminded them that this was their last chance. The Easter bunny was not coming if they did not clean it. In my head I was thinking the Easter bunny would visit but only bring candy.

The little spoiled brats came in the kitchen 5 min later and asked if they could ride their bikes. I reminded them again. They turned around and looked at me and said - "we don't care if the Easter bunny comes or not". I could not believe it! I was fuming. So I was determined the Easter bunny would not come. He didn't. The boys didn't seem to care. Although I can't tell you how terrible of a parent I felt like EVERY TIME someone said to them "what did the Easter bunny bring you?" and they would reply - "the Easter bunny didn't visit me".

I ended up having to clean their room because Mom and Windi were coming in to stay. I couldn't get them to clean for anything - so I HAD to do it.

Then as soon as they left the room was a disaster again. The boys have had to be without the tv, computer, wii and having friends over (or going to friends houses) since the beginning of May. They refused to clean their rooms.

Two weekends ago I had to go to a festival to help out a friend. The boys were going with me. I told the boys that if they could get their room cleaned they would each get $5.00 to spend on anything they wanted. Jonah wanted to clean, Noah didn't. I told Jonah that if he cleaned the whole room he would get all $10.00. He ended up deciding he didn't want to do it. Thats a lot of money to clean your room. Noah told me and my friend that if it was $20.00 he would have done it. I was HORRIFIED. I couldn't believe what a spoiled brat he was. I was so embarrassed.

This past week I decided I was going to do everything I could do to make them clean their room. Starting with Tuesday as soon as they came home they either started cleaning their room or they would sit in a chair until bed. If they chose to clean their room and I found them playing they got their butt spanked (I don't spank often). Noah immediately sat in his chair and said he wasn't cleaning.

I think the little sh*t realized he could sit in his chair while Jonah cleaned and when Jonah was finished he could get up and do whatever he wanted. The chair was better. So I added that if Jonah cleaned the room himself Noah would have to come home everyday for a week after the room was cleaned and sit in the chair until bed time. He chose the chair. I wanted to wring his neck. I can't believe him.

I told him it was his last chance. If he chose to stay there he couldn't wait two hours and then decide to "help" clean his room. So after thinking about it for a few minutes he decided he would clean.

The spank deal was still on. I believe I had to spank them at least 10-15 different times. They were just playing and playing. I was at my witts end. I was out of ideas. I was already trying to help them by splitting up the room to help them start somewhere. Which seemed to help a little at first. But it didn't take long before they were bored of that and started playing again.

I finally decided to tell them they had 45 min. Whatever toys were in the floor after that were going to be thrown away. The didn't seem to care. So every 10 min I came up to tell them how much more time they had and to "get a look at how big the trash bag should be". As time was dwindling down Jonah started freaking out. He kept saying "people paid money for these toys, and you are going to waste their money by throwing the toys away". I was bawling. Noah could have cared less. Poor Jonah was so scared it was going to happen he couldn't pull himself together to clean. Noah could have cared less.

Finally Jonah went over to Noah and attacked him. He was so mad at Noah for not caring. He did what I so felt like I needed to do. Noah was a little shocked. I broke it up and Noah was now ready to help clean. 15 min later - the room was clean. I can't believe it.

So next time I guess I will have to start with threatening to throw their toys away and let Jonah take it all out on Noah. :) I am so thankful I finally got them to clean their room, but I am astonished at the fact it took so much to get them to clean it.

I think I am in for a run for my money. The boys are not bad boys. Actually, they are usually very well behaved - but they are so stinking stubborn - especially Noah.

I didn't give in for any of it. So its not like I was just throwing out threats. I followed through on everything. EVERY THING. The Easter bunny did NOT come. Thats a huge deal for me.

I thought this would get easier. It only gets bigger and different. I would love to hear your parenting struggles, maybe it will help me get ideas on how to handle the boys.

Where was my mirror??

I am blogging while I am work.  Not typical of me but I could not wait.  I had to get this off my chest and out there.  I am just warning you that this may be "too much information" for someone to read.  As most people know about me - I don't really hold back :)  Besides - if you read my first blog - this blog is for me.  For me to get everything out.  I can't get things out if I have to guard what I say, right?

I did not have the kids last night.  So I went to bed a little earlier than normal and I slept in a little later this morning.  When I woke up I realized that I had a consultant from work that was going to be in the office waiting for me.  I sent her a message letting her know I would be late.  Then I had to kick it into high gear to get ready this morning.

Now that I am losing weight not all of my clothes fit me anymore.  So - even though all of my laundry is clean (not put away, but clean) I have to sort through things to find something that fits.  I didn't have time for that this morning.  So I just grabbed a pair of pants and a shirt.  I through my clothes on - knowing that at least they matched and I ran out the door.

I am driving into work.  I realize that there is this big stain on my pants.  Like donut sized stain.  It's not real obvious, but its there.  I rush into work.  Passing by everyone in the hall.  Hoping no one sees my stain.  

I met with the consultant.  Then I headed to the basement to get some water and a quick restroom break.  This is when I decided to look in the mirror.  A BIG mistake.  I look HORRIBLE.  My pants are way baggy on me.  They make my butt look like an old lady's butt (I really hope it doesn't always look like that).  My shirt is too short and it allows my extra belly roll (really flabby now that I am losing weight) show.  Its not hanging out but you can see it in my pants.  I am sure you know what I am talking about.  I didn't have time to put my Spanx on so the roll is there.  It normally does not show but in todays pants it does.

My pants are like a really light khaki color - basically the same color as my legs.  They are dressy capri pants.  So they like blend right in with my legs.  Can't really tell where one begins and the other ends.  Its AWFUL.

I didn't have time to put make up on.  My shoes almost clash with my shirt.  I feel like Mimi from Drew Carey.  I am one of those people that I would look at and think "honey - did you look in the mirror when you got dressed this morning?"   The thing is that I didn't.  I didn't have time.

Now I am so freaking embarrassed.  I don't want anyone to see me.  I am staying glued to my desk and my chair.  I even turned my afternoon meeting into a conference call so I wouldn't have to be seen.  

Last week I sent Jonah to school in his pajama shirt (he is supposed to be in uniform) and today I look like a clown.  I do, seriously.  What is going on with me?  I need to pay closer attention in the mornings.  Maybe wake up 15 min earlier so I have time to look in the mirror.

So on with my day now.  Back to hiding out.  At least I am having a good hair day.  :)

Bank Robbery

Tonite I am going to write about my involvement with a bank robbery.  It was early last summer, so this is a little outdated.  I had several requests for me to write about it.  Yes, seriously - several requests.  :)

It all started early last summer (as I mentioned two sentences ago).  It was a Friday night.  I was lying in bed.  It was around midnight, give or take a few minutes.  Chris mentioned that he had written a check that I knew I did not have enough money in the bank to cover.  I was panicked.  I demanded that he go to the ATM right that minute to put money in the account.  He refused.  Said we could go first thing in the morning before the banks opened.  I KNEW that would not happen.  So I decided I was going alone.

I threw a robe on (not the first time I have gone some where in my robe).  I got in my car and I was on my way.  I was STEAMING mad at this point.  I think my hair was smoking so much heat was coming out of my ears and every where else.  I was livid.  Chris was allowing me to leave the house at midnight to go to an ATM to put money in the bank.  It was his fault.  He should have been doing it.  I was mad.

I started driving.  The bank is about 20 blocks away.  Not too far.  I was on my way.  To put money in the ATM.  Because I was panicked.  I was livid and I was determined.  It was a beautiful night.  Warm outside.  As I was driving there were people out every where.  Just walking, sitting on porches, playing ball in the street.  It was around midnight.  Seemed a little odd.  But its Price Hill on a Friday night.  

In the back of the bank parking lot there is a large white retaining wall that divides the bank parking lot and another business parking lot.  I noticed to black men in white t-shirts crouching down behind the retaining wall.  I noticed them.  I thought at them for a moment.  I thought they were up to no good.  Probably some kind of drug deal.  But who cares.  Nothing I could really do.  They weren't bothering me.

I pulled into the parking lot.  I turned around the corner to the ATM.  There was a car in the lane for the ATM.  It was just sitting there.  Two people in the front seat.  The car was turned off.  I pulled up behind it but stayed a little back.  Then they started their car and drove off.  It seemed a little strange.  But who knows what was going on.  They were in a car parked right in front of a bank security camera.  What could they be doing?

I pulled up to the ATM.  My car was still in drive.  My foot on the brake.  I grabbed my purse to get the money and my ATM card out.  As I grabbed it I had this funny feeling.  Something wasn't right.  I looked in my rear view mirror.  I didn't see anything.  I looked in my side mirrors, nothing.  I went to put my car in park so I could roll my window down and climb half way out the window to get to the ATM.  I put it in PARK.  I put it back in DRIVE.  I felt so off.  I am always so freaking paranoid.  But I try to go with my guts.  I looked again in my rear view mirror.  I noticed one of the guys that had been crouching down behind the retainer wall was walking up the side walk.  No big deal.  That was far from me.  Then I looked in my side mirror.

There hiding behind the large trash can behind the building was the other guy.  Peeking around the trash can watching me.  As soon as I saw him he took off running towards me.  I gunned the gas.  I took off into the street.  Not even checking to see if cars are coming.  I was lucky.

I called 911 immediately.  The operator answers the phone.  "911 what's your emergency?"  I frantically and hysterically explain I was almost robbed at the ATM.  The operator for some odd reason believes I have been hurt.  He keeps saying "Ma'am are you ok? - Are you hurt?"  "Where I you?"  I explain to him - I was not robbed.  I was almost robbed.  I am not hurt.  I could have been hurt.  I am driving down the road.  I was at the Nat City ATM on Glenway next to Walgreens.  He says "Ma'am, you need to calm down.  I can't understand you."  So again - I explain everything.  He then wants me to DRIVE back to the Nat City to figure out what the cross road is called.  Because an officer may not know where the Nat City next to Walgreens is.  I know they would have known.  But he didn't care.  I could not believe I was driving back to the scene of this almost bank robbery that I was just involved in.  

The operator wants to know now that the "almost" robbers looked like.  I told him that they were african americans, wearing something white on their heads, white t-shirts and dark pants.  At this point I am driving back towards the bank.  I am almost hysterical at this point.  I was so upset and so scared.

I see the two guys walking down Glenway towards Rosemont.  So I tell the operator right away.  He confirms - walking on Glenway from Sunset towards Rosemont.  Then I turn onto the side street next to the bank.  I saw two more black guys wearing white tshirts, white things on their heads and dark jeans.  So I explain to the operator that they are now on (whatever the side street name is) st heading away from Glenway.  Then I turn on to the next street on my way home and notice two more black guys wearing white things on their heads, white t-shirts and dark pants.  I explain to the operator that I see two more - I explain that they are everywhere.  I don't know where they are.  I am scared.  Just send the officers.  

The operator asks me for my phone number and address so the officer could reach me if he needed.  Then he asked me to drive home and calm down.  He then hangs up.  I drive home.  I am shaking and all upset.

I turn on to our street.  I realize all of this is Chris's fault.  I pulled in the drive way.  Jumped out of the car.  Ran upstairs.  Drug Chris out of bed.  I demanded that he goes back up there with me.  I MUST put the money in the ATM.  I tell him what happened.  I am still in tears.  But I am angry at this point.

Chris decides he needs to take a knife.  A kitchen butcher knife.  I was like "what the hell".  He said it was for protection.  We went outside to go.  But the kids were in bed.  Luckily our neighbor Elyse was outside smoking a cigarette.  She notices I am in a panic and asked if there was something wrong.  I explain I was involved in a bank robbery and had to go back up there.  Can she listen for the boys.  

She says yes only if Chris put his knife away.  Then Eddie - Elyse's boyfriend shows up  out of no where.  Chris tells him I was involved in a bank robbery.  Eddie grabs his gun and insists on following us.  At this point things are a little out of control.  But - I needed to put my money in the ATM.  So I could care less.  Just get me to the ATM.

So we drive.  Eddie follows.  As we are driving there is not a sole outside.  Not even a cop car driving around.  We pull into the bank parking lot.  No one is there.  I am constantly looking around.  Nothing.  Chris does his thing.  Nothing going on.

We leave and we come home.  We go to bed.  My money was in the bank.  I was happy.

That is the story of how I was involved in a bank robbery.  I was a victim.  It was very traumatic.  

Tomorrow I will have a more up to date blog.  Have a good night.

Bump in the Night

The night has so many noises.  The city has so many noises.  Old houses have so many noises.  Add them all together and you have my situation.  I lie in bed at night and I hear EVERY noise.  Usually, I lie in bed hear the noises and then hide under my blankets.  That way if someone is breaking in they will never find me.  :)

Tonite, I was sitting on the couch covered up in my blanket in just my tshirt.  I was working and chatting on line.  Then suddenly I hear a large noise in my basement.  I swear someone was breaking in my door down there.  I start to panic.  I am too scared to get up.  I am in my underwear so I don't want to uncover - what if they see me??  So I am chatting explaining how freaked out I am.  They are concerned at first but then realize I do this all of the time.  I just can't help it.  What if I was right?

So the only thing I could possibly do.  I fake call the police.  This was so that they can hear me calling the police, then they will run and get the heck out.  If there is no one really there - well then I am not actually calling the police and making a fool of myself.  I continue to hear noises every so often.  I turn the volume on my tv down when I hear a noise and back up when I don't hear anything else. Its up and down and up and down.  Then I stomp my feet on the floor so that they know I am awake, while I am fake calling the police.  I will get these bad, terrible, guys to leave.  

I calm down.  I listen.  I hear it again.  Is it the refrigerator?  No.  It can't be that loud.  Wait - yes I think it is.  Silence.  Silence.  Silence.  Wait - there it is again.  Yep - its the refrigerator.  Thank goodness it was only a fake call to the police.  Thank goodness the boys and I are safe.  Thank goodness I didn't have to attack anyone.  Thank goodness.

I was almost a victim of a home invasion.  Very similar to my involvement in a bank robbery.  Maybe I will blog about that sometime, but it is such a better story in person.  Just to clarify since this is a public blog - I was a VICTIM of a near bank robbery

All is calm for now.  Now I must get up and go to bed.  It will all start over again.  I don't like sleeping alone.

A True Experience

I began my day hating myself for signing up. I had to get up at 6am. I had to get the kids up at 6am. What in the world was I thinking?

We got up. We showered and dressed. We stopped for breakfast. We pulled into the parking lot. Typical full parking lot at crossroads. We walked in. I can't tell you the mass numbers of people walking around. All in white t shirts with large red stickers on. It was so unbelievable. I felt like I was in the pit of the stock exchange. It was so amazing. All of these people. All here for the same reason. All here to serve Cincinnati in a way that is unprecedented.

We found our way to our assigned project. It was a room in the kids club. Not too many people. We got the details, the boys played a few minutes. Then it was off to the auditorium for a quick praise and worship. I wish I could describe to you the feeling there was in the room. The room was packed with over 5,000 (yes 5,000+) volunteers, there to serve cincinnati. But not just to serve Cincinnati. But to serve as witnesses of Jesus. To serve for God. To serve for their beliefs. The energy was unbelievable. The boys were even feeling it. The smiles on their faces. The wiggle in their hips. It was all very clear. That six am wake up call - it was all going to be worth it.

We all left to head to our projects. If you can imagine 5,000+ people all leaving at the same time with no police direction - it took a while in the parking lot. I didn't hear one honk. Didn't notice one angry driver. We were all thrilled to be doing what we were doing.

Our assignment was to put on a carnival at a church in OTR for the children of the community. Noah and Jonah volunteered us for the castle bounce. One of the large blow up/bounce things. Yeah. Won't be volunteering to do that again :) Although, I saw smiles on those children's faces that could have lit the darkest night right up. They laughed and jumped and laughed and jumped. They were having a great time. I asked one little boy if he was having a good time. He said this is my best good time I have ever had. It was heart melting. One little boy didn't want to leave without giving me the biggest hug I have received in a very long time (I think my boys owe me one :) ) We had several games, craft tables and activities plus we feed them all. I have never seen children eat so many hotdogs in one sitting with such big smiles on their faces. I would have not traded this day for anything in the world. Then it was time to go. But our day wasn't over.

As we were leaving the original service that morning, David Falk (owner of Boca's and Nadas (my fav)), annouced that he had recruited 9 top Cincinnati chefs and they were going to feed all of the volunteers AND the community for free. He said "This is what you call being in the weeds". They were going to set everything up in Washington Park. In OTR. For you Cincinnatians you know what that means. For those not from around here - that is probably one of poorest/ highest crime rate communities in Cincinnati. I thought we could just drive right there, park, get out, get some food and go. I was so wrong. Of course I was so wrong. How were they going to get over 5,000 people parked and into the park with only street parking available. There were streets blocked off and police directing traffic. We were having to drive down little side streets where the traffic was backed up as far as I could see. With cars parked on the side as far as I could. These streets probably haven't EVER seen this type of traffic. The residents were passing by - just staring. Staring in confusion.

We found a parking spot. We walked. And we walked and we walked. We finally made it. We stood in a very long line for an incredibly short amount of time. They were serving people so quickly there was barely a wait. We had the worlds best macaroni and cheese, collard greens and pulled roast beef. It was good. But the best part of the entire thing was that all of these people, all of these volunteers were sitting down with the community of OTR. We were having conversations and getting to know some of these people, that in our every day lives we would have never have gotten to know or heard their stories. It was such an amazing opportunity for me and the boys to experience. It was just awesome sitting back and watching the interactions (I am so much a people watcher) and looking at the smiles on peoples faces. I can't describe it. I don't believe the best writer could describe what happened today.

I pray that this day has affected people's lives in ways that none of us could ever imagine. I know God's work was delivered today.

I can't wait until next year. Let me know if you want to join me at 6 am next year.

Amanda

Don't they know?

Today was my first day. My first day at my new second job. It was everything I expected. Not good. So what is my job you might ask. I might say I am a marketing rep. That's what they call me. But its a lie. It's a scam. I am one of those annoying people that stand at the door at events begging you to sign up for a sweepstakes. Yeah thats me. How humiliating.

Have I stooped that low (no offense to all of you that do it and do it well?) I felt so dirty and unethical. Don't these people know that they do this drawing once a year - they get at least 400 names per event. The ENTIRE reason they want you to sign up is so that they can call you. Call you over and over and over again. I had a hard time looking people in the eyes as they were signing up. Maybe my conscience is too big. Everyone else doing it seemed just fine doing it. Why can't I be just fine doing it?

They expect us to get 100 people to fill out these forms. I got 33. I know - I suck. Yes, it was my first night. But seriously - I suck. I just can't look at these people and ask them to fill out something that I know is only going to cause them grief.

You want to know how I got 33 names? I asked people to fill out multiples with fake names. I asked little kids to do it (you have to be 21 for them to call you). I filled some fake ones out myself. I know - unethical. But I felt better about screwing the company than screwing the innocent unsuspecting people.

I have never been rejected or hit on so many times in one night. All of the rejections came at the beginning of the night. All of the come ons - those came at the end. Why you might ask - BEER I would tell you. By the end of the night all of the drunk men wanted to take me home. One even tried to convert me to become Catholic. All I can say is they were signing my forms - usually a few forms. :)

My next day for work is Saturday. Will I go back? It's still up in the air. You will have to check back tomorrow to find out. I am now off to do laundry and bed just so I can get up and face the world again.

What to do

I have so much I want to write tonite. But I can't write any of it. That's not like me at all. I can't write it because I am afraid someone will read it. That is crazy - for more than one reason. First I write these so that people can read it. So why am I worried that someone will read it? Second, I doubt anyone is really reading it. So what do I do?

This week has been a long week. A dramatic, chaotic week. I like to say I stay as far away from drama, but it seems lately its all around me. Maybe I am even creating it for myself. But whatever the reason - I don't like it. I know I don't like drama. Although all of my family would say I am very dramatic. But - seriously - I pretend to be dramatic for the effect. To be funny. I am not really all that dramatic on a serious side. But this week I have been dramatic. On the serious side.

Serious stuff happened at work. I seriously felt hurt and upset. It was seriously told to me in a very negative way. Then I was seriously told that it wasn't me. But I didn't take the last part seriously. I seriously thought it was me. That it was seriously something I was doing wrong. I should have seriously listened.

For three days I was upset. For three days I cried everytime I thought about it. For three days I wasted my time being upset. What was I doing? Why didn't I listen? Instead I told everyone not to tell me. That they were just over compensating for doing something wrong. They insisted. But I insisted more and I am stubborn. I am seriously stubborn. I was hurt. I was upset. I took it on people or the person I should have never taken it out on. I lost my trust. I thought I was being thrown under the bus. They told me I wasn't. I wouldn't listen.

They called to tell me. I rolled my eyes. They told me. I wasn't really listening. Then I listened. Something was said and then I listened. It was all a misunderstanding. It was told to me wrong. We had crazy schedules and I didn't know ahead of time. It was poor timing. And I didn't listen.

Today I was dealing with it. I had dealt with it. I was going to be ok. I dealt with it. Then she called. I listened. Now I am on cloud nine and wasted three days.

What do I do?

cutting grass

I know I have already complained to everyone I know about mowing my grass. But I need to let it all out.

I want to say that I used to cut my grass all of the time growing up. It was on a riding lawn mower and ofter topless so I could get a tan. So I am not too good to cut grass.

Last week I knew I needed to cut my grass and it was going to be on my own. I don't have a lawn mower yet so I needed to borrow one. I started asking around. Then it rained almost all week. It was bad. My grass got taller and taller. People saw my grass. It was quite embarrassing. Although it did go well with my 1980's tv sitting on my front porch waiting to go out in the trash!

So this week I knew I had to do it. I borrowed a lawn mower (thanks Chris). Everyone told me I would enjoy it and it would be so relaxing. So I was looking forward to it.

I picked up the mower. Unloaded it (it was very heavy by the way) and then went to start it. I could not find the red button he told me to push first. I looked everywhere. Then some guy walked by and he could tell I had no clue. He showed me how to start it and got it all started and then RELEASED the safety lever. He wanted me to start it myself. That was just plain mean.

I started it and I was on my way. It was going great. Nice vibrations, smelled good and I felt good for doing it. In fact I was ready to start offering to do it for everyone I knew. Free of charge just because I loved it. Then I finished my first circle around the yard. On to my second. I was exhausted, tired and my hands were hurting. Not to mention that my shoes were green. No one told me not to wear my good tennis shoes.

At this point I realize its not fun, but I have to get the job done. I continue. Then suddenly it dies on me. I didn't do anything wrong and I thought it had plenty of gas. So I call for emergency help. Then I tried to start it again. It was just fine. I realized it was because my grass was too tall!

Front yard is finished and on to the double back yard. Now I am just going to outline the next several episodes.
1.) had to move trampoline on my own
2.) yard toys everywhere - had to move those (kids will be doing that for now on)
3.) grass is much taller and thicker. had to restart SOO many times.
4.) mowed over dog crap and then stepped in it! I don't have any dogs and everything smelled like dog shit!
5.) I am sweating, panting and feeling VERY exhausted. But I go on.
6.) Down to the double part of my back yard. It hasn't been mowed all season.
7.) Someone should have told me to wear safety goggles.
8.) I ran over every stick and rock and toy in the backyard and it hit me in every part of my body.
9.) Fell down the hill with the lawn mower and screamed profanity.
10.) Noticed neighbor watching and doing nothing
11.) Started laughing at myself
12.) Couldn't stop and wet my pants
13.) Laughed even harder.
14.) Had to finish yard - so I finished
15.) I almost died - I promise

After all of that I knew I had progressed along the dying process. I tried to tell people about it and only ONE person felt bad and understood (thanks Leslie). No sympathy from anyone else. How dare all of you.

So I had to do something about it. I have to hire a lawn boy. So I got a second job. I start on Friday and I will be hiring my lawn boy very soon.

I was not made to mow lawns with a push mower.

Why - Read this post first before you read any others.

For my first entry I decided that I would explain why I am doing blogs. I debated. I debated and debated on whether I should start doing blogs. I am afraid I will get addicted. I don't have time to be addicted. But I will make time because I enjoy this. This could be a bad thing. But against all gut instinct I am doing a blog.

Why do I think I will get addicted? Just not too long ago (like two weeks ago) I rarely got online to do anything other than work or watch my soaps online while at work and occassional IM while at work. Then one day I received an email saying someone requested to be my friend on facebook. Normally, it would have been no big deal. I would have confirmed and went on with my business. I didn't really do much with facebook and couldn't see what the big deal was. When this person requested to be my friend I realized I had not been on in a while and most likely had some "out of date" information that should really be updated. So I went out to look to see what was all out there. I updated and then I started reading posts and profiles of friends. Now I can't get enough. It is so crazy. I am so addicted. I am working on getting over it. I am afraid this will happen with blogging.

I have a lot to say. I am not sure everyone wants to hear it all, but I need to get it all out. I tell Jesus, but thats not always enough. So I thought this way I could get it out and if you want to read and hear about it you can do it at your own leisure.

I am an over analyzer. I need to over analyze somewhere other than in my head. If I can over analyze on here and then read it back, maybe I will realize how crazy I am. :) I need this tool.

So with all of that - there are some rules for this. Rules for anyone that reads my blog.
1.) Don't walk away thinking I am crazy what ever you do
2.) This is my blog, my head, my thoughts - don't comment negatively.
3.) I edit at work. I am not going to edit my blog. Don't correct my grammar.
4.) Take what you read with a grain of salt. This is my thought right now. I will get over it or realize how crazy I am for feeling like that.
5.) If what I write is embarrassing for myself - don't bring it up again!

By reading any further blogs you agree to the above statements. :)

I hope this works as I plan it to work.

Amanda