Circle Rice

I’ve never been good at sports. People used to make fun of me because  I would run funny.  I played softball for 5 years during grade school and never made a home run.  I was always the kid that got stuck out in right field.  I remember standing out there, the hot sun scorching my back through my shirt feeling very removed from the game. I used to stare at the shortstop wishing I was her. Nothing ever got by her. She had an arm like a rifle and she could hit the ball just as well.  I watched her throw the ball to first base, the ball hit the 1st baseman’s glove with so much force you knew it caused a sting.

“OUT!” the umpire yelled.

I wasn’t happy we made an out. I was just happy the ball didn’t come my way.

I was a tomboy for sure, hating dresses or anything too “girlie”. But how can you be a good tomboy when you’re afraid of the ball and too embarrassed to run in public? So I lived my life outside of extracurricular activities once softball ended. I got into the wrong crowd in junior high and was quickly introduced to the world peer pressure. I lived my life trying to please other people. And when people didn’t like me, I was devastated.

I got through all of that (so I thought), graduated from college, started a great career, adopted a beautiful little girl, found a wonderful husband and finally felt like the person I had always wanted to be.  Except for something was missing.   My family made me so happy, but depending on other people for your happiness is far from healthy and extremely risky.  I felt like a house of cards waiting for that small burst of wind to knock me down.

Then you came along. I knew you were too good for me the first time I saw you. I tried to like you, but I honestly didn’t.  I was sure I had made a huge mistake bringing you into my life.  I had been through so much and waited so long to get you, it made me feel guilty. I tried to buy you pretty accessories to keep you happy, but the truth was, I was afraid of you.

I ignored you all winter, and decided to try to work on myself alone so that maybe I would feel deserving of you for the following  summer.  Once May came around,   I forced myself to take you out even if it was just a little bit at a time.   I knew you could move a lot faster and farther than my body was willing.  There were times when you had to  walk with me up hills (and I know a stronger person could have flown up them with you) because my legs were just too tired and weak.  But you stuck with me through it all.

Then one hot  morning towards the end of June,   I opened up the door, feeling around in the dark for the button to open the garage. As the door squeaked open, and the sun slowly woke up the dark, I saw you leaning against the wall, looking bored. I pulled you out and put you in the back of the car determined to ignore my fear and meet some people for a long ride. That day we went places I would have never dared to go before. I saw things I had never seen before even though I have driven by them hundreds of times.  We went fast and we went up hills that I previously would have avoided. Not because I was ignoring my fears, but because I wasn’t afraid.

As we neared the end of the ride, I separated from the group to head towards my car.  I came to a stop-light, unclipped my left foot and stretched my leg out to the ground.  The steamy breath from the  freshly tarred street made my already sunburned leg even hotter.  The sunscreen stung my eyes as I watched a bead of sweat drop  from my shoulder and run down to the crease of my arm. And it was at that stop light, in the middle of a 4 lane road with cars surrounding me, no make-up on and a grease mark from my bike chain on the side of my calf that I realized something.   I felt strong, powerful and more beautiful than I had ever felt in my entire life.

When we finally got back to the car, I didn’t want to stop.  I could have kept on for at least 20 more miles, I’m sure of it. The muscles in my face were sore the next day from smiling so much.

Thank you for turning me into the person I’ve always wanted to be.

I love rainbows.  It’s like a higher power (or God if you prefer) sending the entire world a huge “just thinking about you” greeting card. Kind of like a someone saying, yes, your day was shitty, but here’s a little something to remind you what a magical and beautiful place the earth is.

L saw her first LIVE rainbow today. It was quite an event for both of us.

It was amazing the way it seemed to follow our car down the road, then plant itself right in front of house as we pulled into the driveway.

L yelled out bouncing in her booster car seat, “Look! Mommy, it’s following us. Oh my gosh!”

“Do you want to go get the pot of gold at the end of it?” I asked her excitedly.

“Can we drive to it, please Mommy, PLEASE?” she pleaded.

“But what about the Leprechauns protecting the pot of gold?”  I shut off the car and turned in the seat to look at her.

“Can’t we just  kill the Leprechauns, Mommy?”

I cannot believe how long it’s been since my last post. My promise to myself to post something at least once a month has been broken rather quickly. I apologize for any withdrawal symptoms I may have caused you.

So what has kept me so busy?, you are wondering. Many things have, but the two that stick out most in my mind are my disorganized house and a severe case of brain atrophy.

Let’s talk about my house. My house is basically a collection of little piles of crap I don’t know what to do with. Every once in a while, I get a wild hair up my arse and decide to go through one of the piles.  This past Monday, it was my walk-in kitchen pantry.  I even phoned my mother for help in a moment of weakness. The first thing she said was (must say in motherly type nasal tone), “I’ve been noticing how much that needed to be done. I have a lot of good ideas, but I didn’t want to say anything without you asking, you know. You really need to put that dog food in a container. You are going to get mice. Your vacuum shouldn’t be in there. Did I mention you need containers for your dog food? Blah, blah blah.My eyes by this time had rolled around in my head twice.

After a mad search on google, I found a great article on how to get organized. They made it seem so simple! Just spend a few minutes every day on a different section and soon your life will be perfect! Just like they instructed, I made my three boxes.

Box 1=things to throw away

Box 2=things to give away

Box 3=things to keep, but move to another location

I went in to the pantry armed with hair in ponytail, my paper towels, boxes, and trash bags ready to work.  If you could now just imagine the theme to The Good the Bad and the Ugly playing.  I soon realized why I hate doing things like this. It took me exactly 2 seconds to become confused.

4 full spray bottles of bug spray on the shelf. All of them full. 1 bottle is for wasps/hornets, 1 bottle for ants, 1 bottle for bees, 1 bottle flying insect killer.

My mind started racing. Why do we need all of these? Does bug spray expire? Is “flying insect killer” good enough to replace “wasp and hornet killer’? Wouldn’t whatever kills a bee be able to kill a wasp?  I started to whimper. Soon I realized I had wasted 10 minutes staring at bug spray.

After some further shit shuffling, I find we have a brand new rice cooker sitting in it’s unopened box. First of all, most people I know don’t even have a rice cooker, let along two of them. And though I’ve fallen in love with the one we use, I had no idea we had a brand new SUPER size rice cooker sitting in the back of our pantry. Which one do we keep?

I decided to move on and wait until my husband came home to discuss it. Progress was made and I ended up with one pretty full box of trash and another very full box of things to give away.

Unfortunately, the give away box is still sitting in the kitchen next to the pantry waiting for me to move it. Yet another pile of shit I’ve created to deal with.

Stay tuned until next time when I talk about my brain atrophy.

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1.  I am incredibly grossed out by mouth noises. If I have to listen to someone who eats loudly, smacks or cracks their gum, sucks their teeth, or slurps their soup I become incredibly agitated.  It’s a curse. Figures I would marry a man that snores so loudly, the thought of a house with two master bedrooms sound appealing.

2. I play mini racing games with myself when I’m alone. You don’t know what I’m talking about do you? Let me try to give a couple  examples. Say I put something in the microwave and then walk out of the kitchen to do something. Once the timer starts beeping, I tell myself that I have to be back inside the kitchen standing on the tile before the timer finishes. Or let’s say I go to the bathroom and flush the toilet. I have to wash my hands and be back on the couch before the toilet stops running. Why the hell do I do this?? Is it some type of undiagnosed obsessive compulsive disorder? Is it genetic or learned behavior. I’m leaning towards the latter after what happened the other day.  My daughter was taking a bath and when it was time to get out, I unplugged the stopper to let the water out. I’ll be darned if she wasn’t saying she had to get dressed before the water drained out of the tub. I could sooo relate to that. Shocking.

3. If I choose a movie to go see, there is a 90% chance that it will suck. I mean the kind of movie you get up and walk out of. This has been clinically proven. Any doubters may ask my family, friends, past boyfriends, or my husband. They will back up my statement up completely. Remember the movies Bug or Original Sin? Both Amy pics.

4. I have an aversion to white food. No, not “white people food”, but literally WHITE food. Marshmallows, yogurt, cottage cheese, mayonnaise, ricotta cheese, etc.  One spoonful is enough to induce a rather unpleasant experience. If it is mixed with something, I may be able to stomach it, but just make sure I don’t know about it.

5. I am the jumpiest person on the planet. I tend to be extremely focused on the task at hand. If I’m at work and someone walks up behind me and touches me, I sometimes will jump up in the air about 3 feet off my seat. This drives my husband crazy. He will come home from work (I swear he sneaks into the house) and I’ll be doing something such as taking a shower, or paying bills and he will (unintentionally) scare the crap out of me.  Just this Saturday I was very focused putting the laundry in the dryer, random thoughts circling my head (as usual), when all of the sudden I hear his voice, “What’s up?” If you could have heard the scream that came from me, you would have thought I’d seen Jason from Friday the 13th burst through the door. Not only that, I paused, took a deep breath, and screamed even louder a second time. That was a first for me.  He was so annoyed but our daughter got a big laugh out of it.

6. I’m terrified of having bad breath. I always need to have a mint or piece of gum handy. Perhaps it’s because of all the people that have tortured me with their bad breath through the years (No, I’m not naming any names).  While dating my husband I had a piece of gum in my mouth constantly. I wonder if he ever noticed that. Now we are married though, so it doesn’t matter what he thinks.

7. I can NOT go to the bathroom when I know there are people waiting in line. It is a horrible feeling. To have to go really REALLY  bad, but be able to see the feet under the stall door waiting for me to get done.  Do you just have to stand there? Make yourself useful, walk over and turn the water or something. That’s what I do for people! This was especially difficult in college when I would go out with my friends and drink. The very busy dance club  + beer = a bad place for someone with this condition. I remember many a day when my best friend would go with me to find a nice private bathroom at a gas station so I could finally relieve myself. I’m pretty sure my bladder is the biggest organ in my body now.

8.  I never look at gas prices. I just let my car run until it’s almost empty, turn into a gas station and get gas. I hear people discussing gas prices a lot in my family. “You know, gas is only $2.54 a gallon down the road, you could save 2 cents a gallon.” I don’t understand this. I just filled my tank today and could not tell you how much it cost. I know it was a lot, but I couldn’t tell you how much per gallon. Am I alone here??

9. I have a nose more sensitive than a German Shepherd police dog. (perhaps this is related to the #6?) I smell everything and worry about smelling. It makes life very difficult. The gym can be a very scary place for me among smelly people. And remember, I work in a hospital where  I can sometimes see the grossest of the gross and be fine, but throw a smell into the mix, and there may be trouble. I even smell my glasses when I take them out of the cabinet. This can appear offensive to people when I visit, but I do it in MY OWN house. I can’t help it! Perhaps I should wear a bracelet ID or something to warn people about this. My husband would certainly agree to that idea.

So this is all I want to subject anyone to for now, but I’d love to hear some random things about you or if you can relate to anything I do. Please comment below, or if it’s too embarrassing, shoot me an email at amylou555777@yahoo.com

There’s something I want to share with you, but it’s kind of embarrassing.

I am a seriously flawed human being.

“Why is she bringing this up?” you’re probably wondering.

Perhaps part of it is the onslaught of media attention on models being photoshopped to such an extreme that a normal woman is made to feel like she will never be good enough. How could you when compared to the perfection posted on the front of Vogue and Cosmo?

Heck, I even read about Megan Fox getting picked on for having a deformed thumb.

No, it’s not just those things. I’ve been this way probably before photoshopping was even invented. I just happened to be looking in the mirror  the other day, when I noticed that my right upper arm is extremely larger than my left. I’m not sure when this travesty happened. Perhaps it’s just the result of small cellular changes that have occurred throughout the years, but the fact is, it’s at least 2 inches in diameter bigger than my left.

This realization has led to a barrage of irrational ideas such as moving my one massive arm in a circle continuously while sitting on the couch watching television, lifting a weight with only my right arm when I’m on the treadmill, or even having liposuction in one arm. I wonder if it’s less expensive if you just do one arm?

This isn’t the first time I’ve had “issues”.

My junior year of high school I transferred to a new school. My public school years were never anything wonderful to look back on, but it was that year at my new school that I met a boy shit head named Justin who made my life miserable.

Justin would call me Toucan Sam and ridicule me because the bump that had been passed on for many generations in my family landed firmly on my nose the day I was conceived. I begged my mom to pay for a nose job so I would not have to endure his teasing. She refused saying I was perfect the way I was.

Regardless, I lived the next 8 years of my life dreaming of a day when I would not be ashamed of my profile. All courtesy of Justin. It was the year I turned 25 that I saved up and got a nose job.

My mother was FURIOUS. She was sure I was going to end up looking like a totally different person and ruin my face. The doctor promised the only change he would make was to remove the bump even though he tried relentlessly to explain how my face would be more aesthetically pleasing if he thinned my nose and turned it slightly up at the end. I was terrified I would end up looking like a combination of Michael Jackson morphed with Miss Piggy.  Thankfully I ended up looking pretty much the same as before.

So please understand that I’m not sharing this to gain your pity or get bombarded with concern over my body dysmorphic disorder, but just to show that everyone has their issues. I actually think it’s kind of funny when I look back on it. But what about my daughter?  Isn’t it going to be a big part of my job to not pass on this craziness to her. I don’t ever want my her to  feel like she doesn’t live up to the world’s unrealistic standards. She is after all, actually perfect. How do you say to your daughter, “Mommy is just making circles with her right arm because she’s bored” without feeling guilty.

So here I am, 13 years later fixated on my arm deformity. And though I now can turn my head to the side without thoughts of Justin (who is probably fat,ugly, and alone) going through my head, I still don’t like my nose.

Wish I had that $5000 back I paid for it so I could get arm liposuction.

I called you today, because I thought it would comfort me to hear your voice. But I heard the her in the background trying to remind you of who I am.

“It’s your youngest daughter…Amy” she whispered.

“It’s me! Please don’t forget me Dad!” but I held on to the words tightly so as not to frighten you, choosing to mention the weather in a wobbly voice instead. I had to hang up quickly before it started.

Those words combined with memories of meaningless arguments, distances that really aren’t that far, and forgotten Father’s Day cards, help to form the large, thick lump in my throat that won’t seem to go away.

Why so many tears when I never felt like I was really that close to you?

I’m sorry Dad.

What is this small part inside of me that makes me think that I’m too special to be forgotten?

WARNING: Cheese alert. I’m sorry I must expose you to this, but I’m feeling rather cheesy and cliche today. My sister confirmed this when I had her read this prior to posting. I am trying to work on my writing (and believe me, it needs work) especially description. So this is my attempt at being creative today. Consider this enough cheese to fulfill your dairy requirement for the day.

It seems like whenever I’m on a long road trip, I start to think about how life is kind of like a highway.

Everyone can drive in the lane of their choice. Usually it’s the one you merge on to when you first enter the highway. You can stay in that first lane if you wish, but if you get stuck and start to feel like you’re not getting anywhere, just pass on the left.

There will always be those people who try to get in front of you or who just shouldn’t be there, but there is always a way to get around them. Even if it means you just stop the car until you make sure they are out of sight, and then take off.

Sometimes you find yourself driving along a deserted road and don’t see any cars around for miles. It can be so peaceful.  You can roll your window down and sing as loud as you want while feeling the warm wind blow into your ear, kiss your cheek and tousle your hair.  I feel sorry for those people that are scared to be alone. I think they miss out on having those moments.

Eventually, most of us start to get lonely and wish there was a least one other car there, driving along the road with us.

There are those times when you think you found the perfect partner. They have their cruise control set at exactly 71 mph and are the perfect length in front of you. Not too far, not too close. You’re both in the fast lane and no one is in front of you to slow you down. No one dares to pass. You drive along for 30 miles until for some reason you’ll never know, they decide to slow down and take an exit. And there you are, alone again, trying to find someone else to join you on the journey.

Sometimes when the lanes get so crowded, you just want to scream at everyone to get away from you. It’s frustrating and you wish for the days back when you had the road to yourself.  But, it’s times like these it’s most important you pay attention to your own driving. For you just may be the one who’s not doing it right.

We all make mistakes sometimes. I think I’ve been lucky to have had only a few collisions. Sometimes they were minor and just caused small dents or scratches. They eventually were fixed, or I just learned to not care about the small imperfections. I’ve had times when I’ve crashed and my car wasn’t hurt at all, but the other car was . I’ve never felt more guilty when I knew I was the one who caused someone else’s damage.

There was once a time though when I was totaled. I thought it was the worst day of my life and I didn’t want to drive again. But I made myself get back out there and I think I’m a better driver because of that.

If you get bored, you can always take an exit to try to lose the monotony. You may find nothing, but on occasion there are those moments you never forget. Kind of like finding the perfect gift for someone inside of an old truck stop in the corner near the restrooms under the tacky sign that says “souvenirs”. Those unusual surprises that if you didn’t take a chance, you may never have known what’s out there.

I’ve managed to take quite a few exits along the road. MANY of them caused me to lose precious time from my journey. But it seems like the exits I took when everyone thought I was craziest for turning off the highway turned out to be the ones that changed my drive into something more beautiful than I could ever imagine.

I pity those people who will never pass or take an exit because they are too afraid. They like to play it safe and only follow the map, thereby missing out on what it’s like to feel that rush of the unknown or that adventure that was back on the exit they just passed by.

Of course it is important to be careful when driving. But it’s more important to remember that between the “closed road” signs, endless construction, and potholes there is beauty.

There are fierce sunsets over wheat fields, blue skies with clouds hovering over a old farmhouse, funny billboards that make you burst out laughing, or maybe just a some pretty wild flowers in the middle of a dry patch of grass.

Be on the look out or you may miss them.

For a fresher litter box the only serious choice is the SmartScoop® self cleaning litter box. It’s the only litter box that gives you the SmartScoop® advantage!

The amazing SmartScoop® litter box is one of the most fascinating products I’ve ever owned. 15 minutes after your cat leaves the box, SmartScoop® begins a cleaning cycle. The amazing scooping metal fork moves across the litter effortlessly picking up the chunks of clumped litter along with the turds and tossing them into the “no touch” waste bin locking in odors.

Oh, but that’s not where the fun ends.  If you stick around to enjoy the show, it’s kind of like watching a tiny basketball game.  There can’t be perfection 100% of the time. Sometimes during the flipping process, it misses the”no mess” bin. A poor turd or clump will get flipped over the side to lay lonely on the basement floor until a tiny friend is flipped over to join it.

If you forget about your SmartScoop®, for a few days, you might go down to have a whole group of friends waiting on the sidelines for your attention.

Not only that, SmartScoop® allows you to save a ton of money on dog food by supplementing your dog’s diet. Let me explain how it works:

Feed your cat, the cat digests the food, goes into the SmartScoop® box to do his business. 15 minutes later, the motor can be heard, and like a dinner bell, the dogs come running for their afternoon snack. Watch your dog’s ears perk up when they hear it and like a game, your dog will run to the box to try to get to the turds before they are flung into the “no mess” bin, or if they are lucky, they will get one of the ones thrown to the side that they missed earlier.

As an added treat, it provides endless hours of entertainment for your cat. Watch him sit on the sidelines enjoying the show!

http://www.smartscoop.com/videos60.html