blinded by love -or was it the poison?

Noise, I can handle.

Kids who “can’t” – ha, let me at ’em.

Mess – nothing new

A classroom with a broken furnace- it’s okay, I still haven’t turned the heat on at home…

….I’ve dealt with MIA assistants, failed fire drills and my own sarcastic slips of the tongue… but today, today takes the cake, or took my cookies  (if you don’t get it, I won’t explain..)

 “Why do I smell burning cheese?”
“What is dripping from the ceiling, teacher?”

Oh my. The light fixture was leaking black goo. Smelly black goo. 

“I have a headache.”   Yeah, me too, kiddo. Open the windows, (why not, it’s already freezing in the room)

So then, after evacuating to the lunch room, we attempted to continue with class…not my best effort.

The next classes were worse. The kids were spread out among three or so tables…there was A LOT of additional commotion in the cafeteria…my brain felt mushy, and time STOOD STILL. It was a bizarre phenomenon. I really believe there was a blip in the time space continuum. We drew city scenes for what seemed like at least 4 hours….but somehow, the clock only moved a mere 4 minutes….

I love my work – but it is an abusive lover.  At various times it has bludgeoned my reputation, caused me to skip sleep, lured me into dangerous situations…it plays mind games, takes advantage of my cluelessness….locks me in seclusion to spin straw into gold…and now, tries to poison me?   Okay, that is a reach, but seriously, what was wrong with regular office work, or even retail?  I guess my beer goggles are firmly affixed, I am completely enamored  –  regardless.

…love stinks

 …you know those times when you go out and conversation just flows?  
that is fun right?   

sigh, I miss that.  l o n g  night.  Okay, in other news…I fell in love…  with a house.

It is tiny – Perfectly perfect. a sweet little dollhouse of a house. It is the sort of house I draw when I doodle.  Not only is it cutie patootie…it has LAND….and *drum roll please* at the back edge of the property is my beloved Metroparks….the front edge has a sidewalk…that goes right to town. direct shot to all the shops, library, post office. car, ahem- unnecessary.  The inside is DONE, the paint job crisp, and the closet space…well, there are closets. OH and it has a nifty HIDING SPOT- a sort of entrance to Narnia (er, actually it is simply a door at the back of an upstairs closet that opens to a big ol’ attic…but I will call it a HIDING SPOT, how cool)

 even with all that glorious perfection and convenience.. there are no neighbors to speak of,

you know, aside from all the little woodland creatures….

okay, well the banjo buddy may not be playing in my area any time soon, I would imagine he is quite the popular fella….the “Bambi” portrait is a bit gratuitous….and, aww look at those birdie feet!  Oh my, how adorable. I don’t know if his family lives nearby or not, but awwwwww……

 there are issues though. risks.
ugh….. a family of these crazy stick figures
would actually be my nearest neighbor.

 is this safe?  common sense says – of course not.  BUT….come on man

Love Stinks 


~verdict still out~

a person is a person, no matter how small

~*~*~*~GBE2- Popular~*~*~*
My friend Irene was popular. 
The waves of people that flooded the funeral home today proved this point. 
People mattered to her, and so, in turn, she mattered to people. 

Many of us there had a shared history, and I loved seeing all the familiar faces again. We caught up, cried, laughed and remembered all the crazy fun we had together.. two decades worth….but the thing that made Irene, Irene was the percentage of people walking through that knew her from a random encounter. She epitomized the phrase “never met a stranger” truly, every person that came in contact with this emotional powerhouse was changed and made to feel like they were just a bit more special than they might have considered.

Case in point, I go to the store…I walk down the street….I visit my kids school – and my friend count rarely changes. Irene, on the other hand, talked to everyone, and CARED. It was as if  that random person in the gas station was the center of her world for that moment- or for the rest of her life as it was. 

Many jokes were made about Walmart- it was not an exaggeration that she could be just running in for a pack of toilet paper – but come out with a new buddy. Two of the ladies who spoke at today’s memorial service met Irene when she approached them on a walk around her neighborhood. One was simply working out in her flower garden when Irene struck up a conversation- made a real connection, and created a deep lasting friendship. That’s the kicker, she truly connected – this was not popularity for popularity sake, she was popular because she cared. But she did not care what ‘side of the tracks’ a person came from, what they looked like, dressed like or what they were struggling with, (except to offer all the help she physically, emotionally, could.)  

Like many people who care deeply, she tended to take on a lot of the emotional baggage of those around her…so it is fitting that on Tuesday she went to the park alone to sit by the waterfall she loved. We all need time to process life.

One tragic tumble later and the lady we all loved is gone. 
This is so wrong, so senseless, sad.

In trying to inject some tiny bit of understanding, I have to say her life needs to serve as a reminder that “A person’s a persons no matter how small!” …

(no matter how small they may think they are) 

Every chance encounter is an opportunity to meet someone interesting and maybe even make a lasting friend.

Thanks for really “hearing” us Irene
 I miss you



First Love, um, pass…

um, first love? that is the topic? seriously? 

My first thought was, no way am I actually talking about first love. Thanks to facebook, all my “secret first loves” are a bit too close for comfort. I am not nearly as brave as a fellow blogger who expertly outlined crush after crush….in detail.

Maybe I can talk about first love once removed…as I watch my kids go through their first love and cringe. So far so good, but I won’t talk about them- that is far from fair. Just because I mine their lives for article fodder, does not mean I can just spill their love secrets on my blog. Even slightly disguised, that would not be right.

But then, I remembered a first love that won’t make me blush, books. 
I can shamelessly confess my love affair with books. The words, the structure, the feeling and the ability to vicariously escape into new worlds.  Just like love, I fall into books too easily.  

boring, but I fe like I dodged that bullet! :)

Inside, Outside, Upside Down  was one of my very first favorites

“mama, mama I’m going to town, inside, outside upside down”….think that line was prophetic!   I have certainly been on a bumpy ride.

Watership Down totally captured my imagination, read and reread it throughout junior high…and other times…

Great Gatsby and then Zelda’s biography…and then a stream of other biographies….

Gulping down book series, picking up books outside my comfort zone and then falling in love all over again…
or not. There have been books I have physically thrown, either they scared me to death, or I was so mad at how it ended.

Using books as my first love isn’t really cheating, this lasting love of mine is the epitome of true love. The phases of love; initial chemistry, physical attraction, deep emotional attachment. I go through all those stages with books…yes, even physical attraction- I am not sold on ebooks, I like the experience of flipping pages and carrying books, in fact, I get practically giddy at library book sales.

There is often a dark side to love too.  Now that I am a full-time freelancer, I experience book lust, all my writer friends with their publishing contracts.. book deals…me, with my rejection pile growing….but all’s well, my love is strong.

ed gorey…dr.seuss…roald dahl…(and quentin blake) ..lois lowry..
their worlds are now mine, 
love changes you.