Join Date: Jun 2004
Location: santa cruz mountains
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They say that change is a good thing, and I honestly believe that, but you'd never know it, looking at me, because I think I'm the latest bloomer in the entire universe. In fact, it will amaze me if I don't die before I ever unfurl those petals of promise. I don't know what part of my repressed suburban Roman Catholic upbringing contributed to my lack of initiative, except the repressed Roman catholic Part perhaps, but I've come a very short way from base camp since my birthday thirty-two years ago in Houston, Texas (I'd like to blame it on Houston, but that would be immature, and I'm very good at being immature so I'll try to tuck that blame aside so I can appear smarter and more mature).
I'd like to move on from the barely acceptable conservative fashion style that is my non-thought-out wardrobe, but I wouldn't know where to begin; I'm just afraid I'd dork myself even harder. I'd like to move on and leave the Dallas suburbs in the dust, but I'm kinda stuck here for a couple more years. I'd like to move on and get over the fact that I can't control everything my three year-old son does, and finally CHILD PROOF my damned house once and for all (oh, and also for our newest son) in order to minimize negative confrontations. See, it seems to me like I'm stuck in several ways, seemingly unrelated except for the fact that they all have ME as the common denominator, and I need to pry myself out of said situations in order to grow. SO, to make myself feel better, I'll attack these problems right now on my computer, so I can sleep tonight. here we go:
Anyone, myself included, could benefit from a closet raid and a good old fashioned rethinking. My color scheme will be green and berry, I'll focus more on accessories this time to personalize the wardrobe (check),
The next two years will fly by fast as lightening because I've just had another child and after that we can at least move southwestward by 300 miles or so (check), and
I have a new mantra to repeat when I begin to race toward my firstborn, after I've caught him using my Sonicare toothbrush to remove the grout on the shower floor: "He is little, he is learning, I will teach him, I will love him," or something like that (check), and
PAY DAY is Thursday, and with that comes M-O-N-E-Y and THIS weekend is Home Depot Craft Day for kids and hey, while ds#1 is hammering his dad's fingers into the plywood table, missing the wooden fire truck by two inches, I'll be throwing plastic safety locks into the damned orange plastic car cart that is a cumbersome excuse for a real, functional, correctly aligned shopping cart (check).