Spring?

A couple of weeks ago Sean, Julian and I were walking to the zoo here in nearby Prospect Park.  Along the road and across the street was a hill. On that hill I saw something strange and foreign to my eyes, some unidentifiable substance that had a purple'ish hue. I thought it might be trash or perhaps some kind of toxic material strewn about.  Bewildered, squinting my eyes in an attempt to make sense of what I was looking at, I asked Sean,

"What's that purple stuff over there?"

He followed my gaze and responded,  "That would be flowers."

"Wh--flowers? Fuhlllooowweerszzz??" my mouth struggling to form the word. "What is this alien tongue you speak??"

After the zoo, headed home, we walked on the other side and got a closer look.

And gosh darn, he was right! They WERE flowers! I dared not believe my eyes. It had been so long since I'd seen such a thing, the thought that it could actually be a living, growing thing meant to beautify the earth did not even enter my mind. Absurd! 

We had a good laugh at my completely sincere and earnest question at the beginning, and slowly slowly I am getting used to seeing more strange stuff poking up here and there.

Happy Things

There are just a few things I want to share with you right now. 3 hodgepodgy things that have made me happy lately in unique ways, and I feel really create something magical when combined. Not that i experienced them all at the same time but as a collection, they really shine.

1. Yesterday I was driving on a gloomy rainy gross day.  It wasn't rain, it was snow. But it wasn't snow, it was wetter than that.  What was it then? Snain.  It's just disgusting.  It's like you feel gross on the inside. Anyway, so I'm in the car at a red light and I watched this guy cross the street in the midst of a questionable umbrella experience that was my own delight. For at least 5 blissful seconds I watched him carry his umbrella like this:

 

What you are looking at is a man whose umbrella has collapsed yet he remains unawares.  He finally realized he was not, in fact, being kept dry, and looked up to investigate at least 3 times before he fully digested the situation, rectified it, and I was so, so pleased. I laughed all the way home.

2. Baby elephants make me happy. I just saw a picture of one in the Smithsonian magazine and I always knew I loved baby elephants but when I saw this picture I literally gasped and exclaimed, "I love baby elephants!"  And somehow, shouting it to the heavens, or my apartment, made it official, a declaration.  And I seal it further by putting it here. Examine:

WAAGH, brand new fuzzy baby elephant!

 BAH. Baby elephant playing with ducks!

I love them because they're adorable. I love them because they're identical to their parents. They are mini-adults.  Not like human babies who don't look at all like adults, which is a VERY good thing because then we'd all run screaming, far far away because they'd look like this:

AAAH! Look away!

And I don't know what it is, but when I see a mom and baby elephant, it's like Julian and I are looking in a mirror.  I see us.  When he was a baby-lad, baby animals all used to remind me of him, but now, though he's out of his babyhood, he is still a baby elephant to me.    

Here we are just out for a casual stroll in the savanna: 

3. Today I was in a bit of a sour mood. Baby elephant was grumpy, I was grumpy, and he and I were walking back to the train from the Brooklyn Bridge.  We were waiting to cross a street and while we waited, we were facing a girl who was also waiting to cross the street. This girl was alone and had her camera out and the hugest smile on her face.  I was like, ok, what are you so happy about, champ.  The light was about 3 hours long so we watched her a good long while, taking pictures and smiling at something in the distance. I finally realized she was seeing the bridge, maybe for the first time?  And she looked like this:

And I turned around to look at it too, and then I didn't feel so sad.

What are your happy things?

sean quote

completely out of the blue:

You and Fergie aren't so different.

???

Shire vs. Rivendell

Ok, as for the Rivendell/Shire debate, I've given this a lot of thought as I've been watching (and re-watching) The Hobbit this week and here is my final answer:

I am sticking with my original: The Shire.

Why? Because Rob was right. Do I really need to live like a troll among immortal supermodels?  And I kind of view Rivendell as this quiet, serene, relaxing spa retreat/getaway.  I'd like to visit for sure, but live there? It'll get weird after a while.

At the Shire, i get to eat good food, feel cozy. live simply and read and write letters on a grassy knoll under a huge tree all day. Maybe i'll learn to garden. Someone's bound to teach me. And what will i learn from the elves other than to constantly control my thoughts lest Galadriel's serenely and beautifully lurking around the corner. And hear [eventually boring, let's face it) stories from 1,000 years ago about this epic battle and that, etc etc, blah blah blah.

Maybe I'll just be like Bilbo and escape to Rivendell when I need some R&R, or an adventure. 

This vs. That

For some reason, lately I've been either a participant or an observer of random "versus" comparisons. Since it seems to be a weird theme, I thought i'd put them up here just for the hey of it.

First, I've been doing some reading and watching.  The reading is Hunger Games, round 3.  This is always such a bittersweet experience because the trilogy as a whole is not great. In fact, it goes downhill, in my opinion, with book 3 being barely tolerable if read more than once.  Which is just sad. A trilogy should be sure to give a satisfying end.  But oh well. Book one almost makes up for the whole thing.  So i'm reading about Katniss and her awesomeness and the ever-present hunger, and it's good stuff.

The thing i've been watching is Lord of the Rings.  I think that i'd classify this as a winter watch (as opposed to a read--see what i did there?) though I'd see it any time because, as we know, I'm a bit of a fan.

Anyway, as mentioned in previous posts, every once in a while, when we're feeling ourselves rusty, Sean and I will play LOTR Trivial Pursuit. We've agreed that the only way to play this is if we have one of the movies on at the same time.  It definitely maximizes the experience, and a super strange phenomenon occurs in that there seem to be an unusually high amount of questions that refer to things we are actually seeing in the movie at the moment. Or near to. It's super weird.  So Sean will give me a question and, recognizing the scene, I will answer, "Gosh, I know i know this. Let me thiiiink abouuuut it.. I'm sure it will come to me in like twooooo minuuuuutessss..."

Anyway, so we were watching one night when i busted out with,

"Legolas vs. Katniss."

Which was ridiculous, of course. Sean replied, "What? Legolas is a supernatural being."   Which i know. But it presents a funny image, like if they were in a contest.

Next:

Sean told me that Ian McKellan was on some late night talk show and the host said,

"Magneto vs. Gandalf."

Which again, is ridiculous.  As Sir Ian replied, "Well, Gandalf is a wizard."

And then came one that I still can't answer.  It's less of a versus and more a "would you rather"--which, by the way--whatever happened to those?? I have completely forgotten about them.  I should probably bring them back. And i will, with this next question:

Would you rather..

live in the shire? Or Rivendell.

WHAT! I know, it's so hard!   The shire is so peaceful and green and lush and cozy and the doors are round!

On the other hand, Rivendell is otherworldly and one giant magical treehouse. I can take a nap on my chaise lounge on the patio(?) Or just the room without walls? Do any of the rooms have walls? Will i always be exposed? Does it even matter? I don't know.  I can't decide. Right now I'm thinking Shire, but proportionate to my giant size. What do you think?  Because I'm just sure everyone thinks about these things as much as I do.

Bandages

The other day I paused at the shelf and pondered upon the box of band-aids.  I asked myself, what iiif.... and made an adjustment, and my day was just a little bit brighter.

 

Maybe this is grammatically wrong, but I don't care.

And I thought throwing up was bad

It's no secret that puking is the worst.  A few of weeks ago Julian had the pukes--like the for real kind-- for the first time in his life.  It was so sad.  I sat with him and watched him do the "puke bowl dance" where he'd rock back and forth on his knees, waiting for it.  Oh, the wait. So awful.  I held the bowl while he cried over it, in such pain and agony and I wept a little, not just because watching a child in pain is so sad, but because I know EXACTLY how he feels.  I revert to a 3-year-old version of myself when I have the pukes, and it makes me want to cry, and it's just the worst, the worst ever.

And then I was reading my Book of Useless Information and read the following tidbit about frogs:

It was discovered on a space mission that a frog can throw up.  The frog throws up its stomach first, so the stomach is dangling out of its mouth.  Then the frog uses its forearms to dig out all the stomach contents and then swallows the stomach back down.

Argggh!!  Manually puking?? Imagine having to a) man-handle your own organs, and b) actually get inside to the yuck and physically dig out whatever's bothering you.  How could ever stop throwing up if you had to do that? The thing itself is so repulsive. I just really can't imagine having to choke down my own stomach.  Blarggghh.

So let's just take a minute and appreciate the reflex of throwing up. And, probably, the reflex of so many things.

Cheer Up, Bleak Midwinter

This wintertime I have been trying my guts out to flip just about every negative moment or feeling or aspect about the wintertime. I try to do it in the moment, so i can turn the frown of winter upside down, to be poetic. The act of changing one's attitude amidst circumstances so as to successfully overcome them is challenging, but a life lesson worth learning. It really is quite powerful.  I've had to do it in a few major ways and I can tell you, I really appreciate it. I do.  And i'm not just saying that to pretend the winter isn't sucking.  Because it is. But it has its moments.

So: It's been a project, and not an easy one. But it has been interesting and even successful at times.   Let me see if i can think of some examples interspersed with some pictures that may or may not be relevant to the text.

1. Several times, in the middle of a violent torrent of bone-breaking cold, as I'm out and about, I will launch myself to anytime of a New York August, and I will visualize myself in my summer death attire-- clothes that are the thinnest, lightest, most breathy, regardless of how they look, JUST so I can survive another day-- walking around with the spray bottle, imagining what size of bucket i could fill just with my sweat alone, and I immediately bring myself back, inside my coat, face burning in the wind, and I feel so much better.  I'm cozy. I shudder and take note of the comfort of the warmth, and I feel better.

2. And on that note, I take a special appreciation in the balance of the seasons.  Yes, we like to hate the winter. Yes we're jealous of people who live in Arizona right now.  But there's something about living in a place, particularly here, in my opinion, where the brutal seasons balance each other out so perfectly that creates a kind of harmony in the brain.  The summer and winter are at perfect odds.  I personally believe, despite its treachery, the summer is the clear winner over winter, but those August days can suck the life out of you just as sufficiently as winter can. So, I appreciate the balance, and the sweet, sweet temperance of Spring and Fall.  They are the most beautiful, most glorious--because of their own merits, but because they are purposefully nestled in-between the extremes.  I love it, I love them, and to me, it is a metaphor for many many other things.

Alright, i just looked up temperance and it apparently doesn't at all mean what I want it to. Actually, its definitions are pretty weak so I'm going to use it and apply my own definition. I don't think you need me to explain what i mean. It tempers! It just makes sense. C'mon, words.  (Why does this  always happen to me?) 

3. I fully participate in Valentine's Day and what it means to me. What it means to me is loving those you love, and making valentines for those you love. It means paper hearts and glitter glue, stickers and Love stamps, all coming out of your ears. I love valentines. I sent so many, I'm pretty sure the mail lady really wants to know who in the good hey this Freak is. One day I expect a doorbell ring and it will be her because she wants to meet me. Actually, i expect this from a lot of people. 

So, the holiday is silly but the placement of it is not. Thank you, thank you, glitter and hearts and pink and purple and red in the middle of February.  That said, I made so many danged valentines this year, i got completely valentined-out.   

Here is Julian's preschool class. We decorated boxes, had the good ol' swap, and heart-attacked my upstairs neighbors. The kids were dolls and almost as excited as I was.
 

 

We had a church primary activity for the kidlets and made valentines, hershey kiss roses, had a race, sang a song with chimes, and ate some cake. Serious valentine blitz. 

I'm sure no one will care i'm putting pics of their kids up. If you see this and you do care, i will take it down in a jiffy. But i'm sure you don't care.

 

4. I am being very diligent in my Netflix-watching which graduates from being an indulgence or leisurely way to pass the time to an absolute necessity, vital to one's survival.  The major highlight:  Trekkies, (followed by the sequel) the documentary by Denise Crosby, aka Tasha Yar.  You guys, you know I fall into this category, and proudly. But to watch it in wonderment and laugh all while feeling a serious kinship with these people is so utterly delightful. I laugh at these Trekkies who are serious hardcore NERDS and outstandingly awkward, and I identify with every single one.  I am not so extreme in my celebration or exhibition of my True Love that is Star Trek, but do you want to know how I honestly feel, deep down? It's this: I honestly feel jealous and confused as to why i have not attended a convention. I honestly feel jealous that they have the guts to wear uniforms and tricorders and communicators as their everyday wear.  I admire them and completely, absolutely sincerely agree with everything they brazenly say about their love of Star Trek. And as you know, I've now passed on that love to my son, and I already know we are in the midst of a pivotal moment.

5. Is it just me, or does everyone else out there seriously feel like if they don't get at least 12 hours of sleep a night, they are barely alive the rest of the day.  I have never felt so utterly exhausted and by 6pm I have to manually keep my eyes open.  And this after what I thought was a decent 7-8 hrs of sleep at night. I guess hibernation is real.  Along those lines, Julian and I have been taking some naps together. Of course, I don't actually sleep, because I'm broken, but we have transitioned from napping in his bed (if at all) to me allowing him to sleep on my bed. And it's making naps dreeeeamy, appreciate the pun.

 In the early days, I scorned the idea of co-sleeping. I thought people who did it were seriously bananas and, needing my own space, I was determined to teach my new baby how to sleep on his own in his own bed. He never ever slept with us in our bed. I can't even think of one time, other than once when we were camping and it was freezing and we were in cots in little cabin-shacks. But only then!  (Nazis) Well, fast-forward to now and it's just been delightful.  Snuggling on the bed, we whisper stories, he burrows into me, says goodnight, and i lie still until he starts to sleep-breathe and I seriously love it. So magical. Love this little booger. So, i've changed my tune. 3 cheers for toddler-co-sleeping!

 

and speaking of Booger:

   

6. Though I am now the opposite of a hermit (which is what, a nomad? I really go bonkers if I can't get out of the house these days. I cannot go one single day being inside the whole day. I know, it's weird) I am trying to appreciate the coziness of the indoors.  The fact that we don't have huge A/C units bulging from the windows and blaring at us every second of the day is nice and calm. There is a winter stillness that isn't so bad.  I also am deciding to enjoy using the oven to heat up the place.   And as a side note, this could all be said because it's been in the 30-40's for a while.  Talk to me again when it's in the 20's or below. I will most likely be singing a different tune, titled, #$%&*!

6a.  This just in! The glorious moment when you realize it's the last day of February and that the 40-degree temps might actually be seasonal and not just a sick teaser. This is not to say that we won't have another freeze-out but it would be, dare I say, unusual!  

   

 Julian's half-birthday cake. I have these adorable little pans and though I am loathe to cook or even bake, I actually made a cake from scratch (kind of a big deal. when's the last time I did anything from scratch? an-y-thing) because i was too lazy to go out and buy a mix. 

This kind of puts to shame Sean's actual birthday cake.

Poor little piddly thing.  It was actually an oozy soft-centered cake that is pretty fantastic, if I say so myself, and I do. So it packed a punch. We got Sean a bunch of games to play together, one of which is this and is pretty dang fun, just a tip. You can put it on the ceiling and tell stories and draw as you go. Takes me back to the good ol' days when I would do hand shadow puppet shows for my sister at night.

7. We really appreciate our windows more in the wintertime even though the bars make us feel especially imprisoned. We either ignore that or pretend we are in prison, and what a great window we have access to! Other prisoners should be so lucky. Julian and I will eat lunch here and tell stories. I gave him a snack the other day and watched him watch the winter, quietly waiting for spring.

8. Friends are great. I love my friends.  And when you're out with a friend, and she stops and turns, gasps at the moon and breaks into a howl, how can you not join in?   Because check it:

It was a full winter moon taxi night.  Sean pointed out that it appeared he was being summoned and needed to leave immediately to go help someone in need.

9.  Lastly, this winter I actually set a goal and accomplished it. It's not a big one but it has brought me some satisfaction. I was reminded how much I love poached eggs and had never made one, so I decided to learn. I make one for myself or Sean just about every day.  Some of them are a bust. But i am diligent in my practice and when one comes out right, I am quite pleased. It's also handy for practicing when you drop your eggs you just bought and are immediately forced drop everything and attempt 3 poached eggs. So cheers to the winter of the poached egg, cheers to you, and happy February 28.

I know, isn't it so pretty? Because egg pictures always look so yummy.

)en's log: 0222.2013

Today, after watching a particularly fantastic episode of Star Trek, Julian turned to me and said, "should we watch more Star Trek, Mom? because I love it; i want to learn all about it," officially making this the best day of my life.

Julian's Half

Today is Julian's half-birthday. It's nice because if we want to celebrate something, we can, which is a nice option for the worst month of the year.  But we don't have to, so low pressure too.

To celebrate, let's talk about the little squirt.

• Julian is long and lean. He's a tall one, and he's shot up at such a ridiculously rate, there's not a day that goes by where i don't gaze upon him and seriously wonder what in the hey i'm feeding him.  It's pretty sad, actually. We are in mourning, and it's the complete loss of his babyhood. It is no more. Forever gone. GONE. Gone, baby, gone. DcX (< -- that emoticon is a stretch but if you try real hard, you can find it)

•  Julian cares.  Julian is concerned.  Every once in a while, after he's been in the bathroom for some time, he will open the door and yell out, "you ok?"  and when i confirm that I am, he will go back to doing his business.  I will respond, "I'm ok! are you ok?"   "yeah, i'm ok."  Just checking in. At a totally weird moment. 

• My favorite is the subtle mix-ups with things. For example:

                         A nursery rhyme I overheard him reciting while playing:

                               Yes sir, yes sir, 3 bags full,
                               one for the little boy who lives down the hole.

That poor child! Well, at least he'll be warm.



                        Christmas song, to the tune of Jingle Bell Rock:

                               Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle bells, (rah!) 

•  Remember Julian's friend, his finger? Well, he's named him. Ready for it? Are you sure? Because it's pretty much the best possible thing I can imagine in life.  Here it is:       
                  
                                            Thinger.

• "Mom, I don't call it dinner, I call it night breakfast."       Doesn't that sound a) more delicious and b) classier? and more mysterious.
• For some reason, I love when Julian's obsessions last a long time. It makes it for real.  A legit obsession.  For example, last spring/summer we saw Madagascar 3 in the theater, the first movie he sat all the way through. So yeah, kind of a big deal.  And in that movie is Katy Perry's Firework, which ignited a love so deep and intense in his little core.  It's almost been a year and he still loves it so.  A few days ago during a quiet ride in the car, Julian spoke up and said, "Mom, it's not Madagascar.  I'm just going to call it Firework Movie."   He was so serious that I responded in kind, and the moment became quiet again but the serious feeling that something serious just happened, remained.
  
  Then, this morning he was lazing on the couch when Sean was leaving for work and he bent down to let Julian give him a hug.  He squeezed so hard that "oh no, your head popped off! Bye, mannequin guy who goes to the frame office."    Dad, aka Mannequin Guy.
  
  
  Happy half birthday, pal. Maybe one day I'll actually explain to you what that is, and why we're celebrating the day.   Also, please don't ever turn four.  Always be three. Please please please please.
  
  
  
  

From My Valentine to The World

A Wintry Tale

As I sit here in a winter of my life (not THE winter of my life), I take pause to ask myself a question and it is this:  Why do I love The Hours so much?    I'm in the middle of watching it on Netflix. The last time I saw it was when it came out like ten years ago or something.  And then I read the book and loved that, which I also haven't read in about as long.  All i really remember is I came away feeling like I could have underlined every single phrase and how it isn't often that I walk away from a book like that.

So here I am, in an empty house and a just-played piano, having hammered out my residual feelings from the bit of the movie that i'm watching in fragments, holed up in my tiny house in the middle of winter, and I ask myself again, really, why do I love The Hours so much?

Is it because I identify with depressed women who aren't sure why they're feeling what they're feeling but, as "Mrs Dalloway" said, are "unraveling"?    Do I feel like I'm unraveling?  I don't know, maybe a little, in moments.  Not in any big, alarming way, just in a winter way, i'm pretty sure.  Where you get to a point, things having layered upon themselves and sit there until they stagnate and harden and all of a sudden you flip open some catharsis and find yourself able to unleash in a way that's been quite overdue.  And it's so utterly refreshing that you have to decide that even if you identify with a movie full of depressed women--if that's what it is-- and relish in Virginia Woolf's despondency during conversation and mind-wandering and detachedness,  to look at that and say, well that's pretty good! 

And it's not a case where much needs to be read into. It's nothing more than a moment of breaking through the hardened frozen surface in a winter of your life.  It's a happy thing, a joyous thing, and a reminder that life is there, underneath, and that one day, all of this business will thaw and things will become pretty again and you won't have to take so many vitamins. 

Motherhood Business

There are a few things in this whole motherhood business that I did not expect.  Some of them are on the "what the bleep did i ever do to deserve this" end of things, some of them are pretty good, and some are just funny and/or unusual. And one of those is this:

I did not expect that being a mother of one would make me a mother to many.  I don't plan to have a lot of kids but I am now mother to countless beings and they all live inside my house.  They are julian's friends, his beloved toys and stuffed animals and he babies them and has relationships with them and I have found that apparently I am all their mother. He talks to them and for them and they talk to me and call me Mom. And I respond, because why wouldn't I? How could I not? I'm their mother. 

For example, his new favorite is his little pal, Finger. One time I drew faces on his fingers for his ice cream truck and Finger was born, officially joining the family.  But he refuses offers to re-draw faces. He's always around, he doesn't need a face. He's family. Sometimes i respond to him as myself, and sometimes I use my own finger.

I find myself having these moments settling disputes between Blankie and Eeyore and hearing each side and reprimanding (I try to make Julian make the hard decisions though, which he often does, resulting in someone going to time-out)   or putting a band-aid on his tractor and cradling it to give comfort. (have you ever cradled a tractor? Have you?)  And i'm laughing so hard on the inside at the absurd tenderness this moment renders.  It delights my very core and I did not see it coming.

Motherhood. A surprise at every turn. Or some other cliche.  <3>

Sean Quote

I can't wait for the rest of America to give up on James Franco like I have. So we can all just move on with our lives.

A Groundhog Post

A couple of nights ago, Sean and I watched a timely movie, and possibly the greatest ever created. My answer to your question of what movie do I bitterly wish I had thought of:

Groundhog Day

It's just so wonderful in so many ways.  Let's break it down:

1. First--well actually i'm not sure. 1 & 2 might tie for first.  But first, the premise. It's just so fun on all of its levels.

a) the holiday. It could only be about Groundhog Day which has to be the most worthless holiday ever created. It would remain so were it not for this movie. Now, for me, it is beloved. 

b) The repeating of the scenes. I remarked several times how fun it must have been for the actors and extras. Fun or insanely irritating? Hmm. I don't know. It sounds fun and unusual to me, a non-actor. Like, do i try to play this EXACTLY as before? Or might I say it a bit differently, because you don't know? You don't know how i would have done it based on Bill Murray's Phil Connors' lines or delivery.   And that brings me to 2.

2. Bill Murray. So perfect. So PERFECT!  He nails everything.  It could not have been anyone else.

3. Everyone is so awesome. It's like they went straight to Punxsatawny and made everyone there a part of the movie. This is not a rip on the town as I have never been, but they just had the most perfect small town-ness about them. None of those people live in LA.  Love Chris Elliot. He's the most perfect doof.  However, Andie McDowell leaves a bit to be desired. She's kind of weird. Go, watch the movie again and see for yourself. We like her because she's nice to look upon and her accent is a tiny bit adorable but really, would you go for her? Would you? I wonder. 

3. As mentioned, the levels and layers.  The way there are some days we see more of, and mere moments in others.  Some from his suicidal phase, some from his selfish phase. The golden scene of him trying to recreate the perfect date.  His metamorphosis is drawn out and somehow we see the length of it which i find impossible to experience in movies these days. Everything is rushed.  So yeah, I love it all. I love how the story unfolds and unfolds and reveals its depth as it goes along.

A few weeks ago, Val told me the director (genius and hands-down the hottest Ghostbuster, Harold Ramis) revealing the actual time that passed that he was reliving Feb 2.  She had me guess.  I thought about it and said "like a year?"  She said she had guessed 6-9 months, but the director said it was 8 YEARS.   Whaa??  Isn't that bananas? I haven't stopped thinking about it ever since she told me, and is probably what spurred us to watch the movie (along with the encroaching useless/wonderful holiday).   What i find though, having watched it since she told me, is that he actually makes it look like it'd been that long. He pulls it off.  I don't know how. It's pretty amazing, actually.

At some point, Sean asked me what I would eat if there was no tomorrow, no consequences. We both thought and thought.  And then thought and thought some more. Buh. We were having a tough time coming up with anything! Like, do i want to eat one milkshake after another? No. I mean, i might want to, but I know i'd max out at one sizable milkshake.  I finally gave a pathetic answer of "I dunno.. hamburgers?"  Like i'm always craving a huge greasy hamburger, and I'm not.   We both decided on pizza and french fries (< --  I just typed "friends."  what is the matter with me? Pizza and french friends. It's so ridiculous and i am laughing way too hard over it.)

What would be YOUR answer? Because seriously, things i might have said some years ago, i know will make me sick so fast.  Geez. Thanks, adulthood.

Anyway, Happy Groundhog Day.  I feel like that should be Groundhog's Day.   Give a day to the groundhog, for heaven's sake. 

Soda

So, every once in a while I have an experience that really helps me overcome something.  And I have this intense need to pass it along to anyone I can, in hopes that it can benefit their own life in some way.

I am not a big drinker of soda.  I rarely drink it. I'll have some sparkling whatnot at Christmas and perhaps a rootbeer when we get pizza, but on the whole, I'm not just not into it and most soda gives me a terrible stomachache and I deeply regret it almost immediately.

And then this came into my life:






Now, this is good stuff.  It's quality stuff. I liked it, but sadly it didn't have as big of an effect as one would like.  I didn't experience a true change of heart until these guys:

Blood orange and grapefruit.

SHAZAM.  In all seriousness, I drank these and said to Sean, "Sean, I'm in trouble. This could actually make me drink soda again."  I LOVE this stuff.   It's not as poisonous to my guts as other soda is. The flavors are outstanding, and then Sean brought home a case of the grapefruit which is something I never thought would happen in my house--having a case of soda.  But here it is.  And every once in a while I am weak and give in.  It's broken me.  And it's sure to break you too.  So try some today and be rid of your soda-aversion once and for all. 

Day-Lewis News

First of all,

Yes, Sean and I watched the Golden Globes and yes we loved them. Ok, I loved them. Sean enjoys them.  I'm not ashamed for loving award shows, especially when my BFFs are hosting.

And then, whenever they cut to Daniel Day-Lewis, the TV almost broke due to his insane beauty.  I have not yet seen Lincoln. I really really want to, but I'm afraid I'm going to go away with strange new feelings, having Hottie Day-Hotness playing the role.

So naturally when I saw a link to an "article" about him on MSN, i had to click, and it's one of the best decisions of my week. I already love him, as does the universe, but this sealed the deal:


First, the first line is possibly one of the best lines i've ever read:

Daniel Day-Lewis kept his acting work a secret from his children as they grew up and they were convinced he was a construction worker. 

Are you kidding me?? That...is...awesome.

And then it just gets better:

The revered method actor, who is up for his third Oscar next month for his portrayal of President Abraham Lincoln, is intensely private, and even quit acting in the 1990s to become a cobbler, before returning to the big screen in 2002's "Gangs of New York." 

A cobbler?? Who does that? Day-Lewis does, that's who.  It's so perfect. 

And his Hollywood persona was such a mystery to his sons, his second child Ronan presumed he worked in construction.
He tells Britain's Daily Mirror, "They didn't even know what I was doing until a couple of years ago.
"In fact, my 14-year-old boy was asked what I did and he said, 'I think he's in construction.' That's how much they know!"

click here for the full bit.

Anyway, just a little tidbit for you to brighten up your day.  Oh, and this: