Oct 31

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

So, I have to admit that I wasn’t really into Halloween this year.  I’ve got other stuff going on and I’m preoccupied.  Which means that Howard insisted I carve the Pumpkin this year.

I whined a little bit about it, but sucked it up, and set everything up…then I decided to break out the camera..and document it for you…

Alaska 2007 764.jpg

I sat down, and realized something was missing…..then I realized what it was:

Alaska 2007 765.jpg

and what do you know?  A bottle of cab and a good buzz later…(and okay maybe a few handfuls of Halloween candy…that we bought…to give out to the kids…but whatever dude…who doesn’t sample the candy for the kids?  I’m selfless enough to care, people!) and voila!

Alaska 2007 767.jpg

I carved that pumpkin but good.  I don’t know about you guys, but that expression cracks me the hell up.

Then again…maybe it’s just the wine…

Happy Halloween everyone!

Oct 30

Howard’s cousin Jason sent us pictures from his annual Halloween bash that he holds every year.

Missing that party is one of the things we miss the most about no longer living in North Carolina.

Missing Jason is an even bigger one for us.  Especially me.  Jason has been in my life as long as I’ve known Howard.  He is only a year older than I am, so when I began dating Howard, he and I bonded almost right away.

The thing we have in common aside from our age is that we have the sense of humor of a 12 year old.  Anything that falls under the “stupid humor” category is sure to have Jason and I doubled over with laughter.  Got a good fart joke or any good body function joke for that matter?  We’re all over it.  A stupid one liner that we find funny will be told over and over again until people are begging us to shut up.  Does that new toy make a funny noise?  We can exploit the shit out of that one honey.

Speaking of toys, many Christmas’s ago (or was it Thanksgiving?), we all gathered at his Uncle Bob’s like we do every year, and somehow, someone came across this R2-D2 model that, with the push of a button would sound the lingo that is R2-D2.  I can’t imitate it here but if you’ve seen Star Wars, you know what I’m talking about.

Also, if you’ve seen Star Wars and all the mishaps poor R2-D2 keeps getting himself into, you’ll know that he has a blood curdling scream.

That very scream was one of the many sounds found on this particular R2-D2 model.

I don’t know who discovered it first, but in no time, Jason and I were pushing the button that played the scream over and over again and laughing until we cried.  We did it everytime someone opened a gift, we did it everytime someone spoke to us, we did it especially when someone we didn’t like spoke to us.  For some reason, the more we did it, the funnier it got.  Jason and I were hell-bent.

Finally, someone got fed up and when one of us turned our backs, they seized our R2-D2 and hid it behind the wood pile on Bob’s front porch.  Of course, it wasn’t long before we found it and continued our torture.

Because like I said, we’re basically two 12 year olds when it comes to humor.

What I love most about Jason is that it doesn’t take a whole lot to make him laugh.  He isn’t afraid to be silly with me.  He also isn’t afraid to stand in the middle of a room and belt out songs with me (Landslide).  He isn’t afraid to dance and sing Abba songs with me until we’re hoarse or until, of course, someone gets annoyed and yells for us to shut up.(in which case, we usually sing louder!)

I’m not around at Christmas anymore or any other holiday due to work commitments but when we make it home once a year, someone makes sure the R2-D2 doll is safely hidden, the Abba CD is stashed away as well, and Jason is always there with open arms and a smile. (and usually a low-brow joke to get the evening started)

Oct 28

This one is for my friend, Julie.  I love you!  (lyrics just couldn’t top this)

Miss Celie’s Blues from The Color Purple.

(Jason, I know you’ll appreciate this too!)

Oct 27

Today I was on the phone with my sister…her children were home as it was already evening in NC with the four hour time difference when she called me early this afternoon.

If her kids are home, our conversations are peppered with her saying:  “hang on…..BRITTNEY or BRADLEY, I’M GIVIN’ YOU FIVE SECONDS TO STOP THAT” and then casually saying: “I’m back” and without any effort of transition, she gets right back into the conversation she’s having.  I’m usually giggling on the other end.

Friday night at steak night, Howard and I were eating with Dusty’s family and his 2 year old nephew.  His nephew calls me his “Auntie Chrissy” or “Anthie Thissy” as he says it.  He was yelling at me to come over and help him with the buttons on the jukebox.  I went over to him, he asked me what all the songs were, I kissed him on his downy head and tried to answer his questions.

He was also wired and soon got into trouble and was chastised, rightfully so, and was made to sit in his chair and think about what he did.

A few minutes later, his punishment was over, and they were getting ready to leave.  He came over to give me a kiss and a hug and then said “I want Howard!”  “Howard!”  He beckoned Howard to turn around.  Howard scooped Colton up in his arms, and gave him a big hug and kiss.

My eyes met Howard’s for a brief moment and we both felt that familiar ache.
I want to chastise.  I want to worry.  I want to be frustrated.  I want those tender moments.  I want feel like I’m going to pull my hair out.  I want to be called “mommy” in addition to “auntie”.

I want to see Howard bond with his child.

I want to be the one on the phone saying “hold on” and then constructively yelling at my kids.  I want “night-night” kisses.  I want to kiss boo-boo’s.  I want tiny hands around my neck hugging me tight.  I want a warm bundle in my arms.  I want to lie in bed with my husband with a baby between us and say “wow….we’re parents”.

I want to look into my child’s eyes and say “We have waited so long for you.”

I want tickle fights and lectures, temper tantrums and laughter.

I want all the good times and the bad times.

I want the euphoria and the bitter frustration that comes with being a parent.

I want to be a mother.  I want Howard to be a father.  I want us to be parents.

Oct 23

While on the phone with Dusty last night:

Dusty: So, are you going to blog tonight?

Me:  I’m not sure..it’s getting late…but I do have a good post in mind.

Dusty:  God, you’ve been getting slack lately.

Me:  No, I haven’t!  I blog just as much as I ever have.

Dusty: Well, what I mean is, you haven’t blogged about me.

Well Dusty?  There you go.  Happy now?

That’s All!

Oct 21

funny cat pictures - Quid Pro Quo Clareeze

When I was high school, I was really into theatre.  Yes, I was a proud drama geek.  Most of my friends were in the drama club and it’s safe to say that we earned the title of geek.  Each and every one of us.

For some reason, we all watched “Silence of The Lambs” one night, and instead of it creeping us out, we all found it hysterically funny.

The movie rose to cult status within our circle.  Pretty soon, word got around to other theatre groups in our district and about once a month, we would all get together and watch it.  We began to memorize the lines and quote them simultaneously…and sometimes ad libbing our own words.

It was all very “Rocky Horror Picture Show” like.

Seeing it now, a decade plus later, I realize that we had to be some sick puppies to think anything in the movie was funny.  Even though, I still get the giggles everytime I watch it.

If you were to look in the high school year book from my senior year, you’ll see quotes from the movie scribbled in different places throughout by the friends who celebrated the movie with me.

A weird bunch we were.  A weird bunch we probably still are.

Oct 20

For B.

I Love You.

Takes a Little Time-Amy Grant

It takes a little time sometimes
To get your feet back on the ground
It takes a little time sometimes
To get the Titanic turned back around
It takes a little time sometimes
But baby you’re not going down
It takes more than you’ve got right now
Give it time

What’s this walking thru’ my door
I know I’ve seen the look before
Sometimes in faces on the street
Sometimes in the mirror looking back at me
You can’t fix this pain with money
You can’t rush a weary soul
You can’t sweep it under the rug, now honey
It don’t take a lot to know

It takes a little time sometimes
To get your feet back on the ground
It takes a little time sometimes
To get the Titanic turned back around
It takes a little time sometimes
But baby you’re not going down
It takes more than you’ve got right now
Give it time

Now it may not be over by morning
But Rome wasn’t built in a day
You can name that thing a thousand times
But it won’t make it go away
Let me put my arms around you
And hold you while you weep
We’ve been talking and you know what
I’m sick of this talk
And it’s nothing that won’t keep

Oct 19

Early last week, the phone rang, and it was my 8 year old niece on the other line.

“Aunt Christina?” her sweet, southern drawled, voice asked.

“Yes, Brittney” I replied, knowing exactly who it was.

“What is your address?” she asked.

I gave it to her.

“I wrote you a letter and I want to mail it to you and I asked mama if she knew what your address was and she told me she didn’t know and to call you and ask, so I did.”  She explained matter-of-factly.

“Well, I’m glad you called, and I am really looking forward to reading your letter.”

We talked a bit more and then finished our conversation.

I checked my mail box everyday until I received her letter.  Folded neatly in an envelope that was stuffed into another envelope that her mother, my sister, enscribed with the address was a thick piece of fancy stationary.

The outside read:

“Over”

I turned the paper over.  The other side read:

“From:  Brittney”

“To:  Christina”

I smiled, giggled a second to myself, and carefully unfolded the paper and began to read:

“Date 10-6-07

Dear Christina,

            I like school.  I am in 2nd grade.  Do you like it in Alaska this year?  Has it snowed yet in Alaska?  School has gotten hard.  My reading group teacher is mean! I am going to tell you how mean she is.  When you give her your paper and you have one mistake she will scream it out to every body!  I hope you write a letter back.

                                                                               Love,

                                                                               Brittney”

I couldn’t help but laugh because this was soooo something an eight year old drama queen in the making would write.  My sister says she gets it honest….honest from her aunt Christina.  I think I was more impressed with her good punctuation, grammar, and letter writing format.  My sister swears she did it without her knowledge and therefore without her help. (and I didn’t edit anything for the sake of this post)

“I didn’t even know she’d written you a letter until she asked me about your address.” my sister swears.

I carried the letter around in my jacket pocket for a few days before finally bringing it home and putting it in a safe place and posting about it.

I may not have children of my own, may not ever have children of my own, but I can’t explain how happy it makes me to see that my niece has inherited a fun piece of my personality.  Without sounding incredibly hokey, it fills my heart with joy to know that if nothing else, after I’m dead and gone, there will still be a part of me walking around, jumping to conclusions, making mountains out of mole hills, and doing it all while never failing to use good grammar and punctuation.  (Current run-on sentence, notwithstanding of course)
 

Oct 15

The new song by Timbaland featuring OneRepublic called “Apologize” is beautiful.

I downloaded it yesterday and must have played it twenty times while soaking in the tub last night.

I know. Timbaland. Who would have even imagined I’d like it? I think I like it so much because it has a good beat…(and you all know how much I love those)…and because it’s a big metaphor for a couple of my best friends who are in similar situations.

Oct 15

Dear Lovely Bookkeeper who so rocks my socks,

Thank you so much for closing the store for us on my birthday so that we could come home early together and I could lounge around in my pajamas for a few hours and Howard could cook dinner.

I would, however; like to clear up something that you’ve been grinning about all week.

That baby oil we purchased right before we left work that day? Really was for our dry skin and not our extra-curricular activities.

I mean seriously, if that were the case, we’d have bought a shower curtain too.

Thanks again,
Chrissy and Howard

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