Tag Archive: Random thoughts

Somedays I miss the old blogging world

I sat and read last night. Instead of talking on Twitter. Instead of playing Angry Birds or Bejeweled, or Words With Friends; which is what I normally do after I get the kids in bed.

For an hour, I read Mom 101’s archives. From 2006. I had a blog in 2006. I saw my name on some of the comments in her posts. It was kind of funny actually.

This is what I miss about the fast pace of blogging these days. The feeling like you could just sit and get to know someone from their archives. Everything is so fast these days. It didn’t always used to be like that. Before Twitter and Facebook and readers.

Yes, I read Liz’s blog back then. It was fun to read some of it again though. A few posts I remembered, most I didn’t. It’s been too long.

Today I read that one of my favorite bloggers, Jen at The Trephine is going to take down her archives. Thankfully she gave fair warning, so I can have the chance to read them today before they are gone for good. Today? I will read her archives again. Because she’s a great writer. Because her posts for the last 10 months have helped me, more than I could begin to tell her. Because she’s one of the funniest writers I know. I will read her blog today, while working, when I’d normally be on Twitter or looking at my own reader.

My reader is always full. That will never change. People are always on Twitter. I love that about Twitter. Someone is always there. Facebook statuses get updated faster than I can blink. There’s nothing wrong with it. Most of the time, I love it.

But yesterday, for an hour, it was nice to remember the old blogging world. To sit. To read. To be entertained. Maybe I didn’t get through my reader at all. But hey, it’s not going anywhere.

When life gives you lemons, you do a meme

I saw this at Carmen’s place and thought it would be a good idea to try it out myself. I am now remembering why meme’s were invented. For times where you can’t say what you want to say.

The layers of me

layer one
name: Issa
birth date: April 20th, 1980
birthplace: Los Angeles
current location: Colorado
eye color: Blue-grey
hair color: Brown
height: 5’4″
righty or lefty: Right. Although because of a shoulder surgery on my right shoulder years ago, I can do a lot with my left hand.
zodiac sign: I’m on the cusp. Was born right after (like two hours) it changes to Taurus. I say, I’m a Taurus with Aries tendencies. Although, it could probably be said either way, depending on the day.

layer two
your heritage: Half Polish. Half Heinz 57. (My dad’s family escaped from Poland during the Holocaust. My mom’s family has been here since the 1600’s.)
the shoes you wore today: flip flops. Tevas.
your weakness: Coffee, chocolate, bread.
your fears: Ending up the crazy goldfish lady. Being alone. Loosing my kids. Pushing away my best friends, because I’m too much work.
your perfect pizza: Margarita NYC pizza. Dude. Yum.

layer three
your most overused phrase: Take your pick: Seriously. Awesome. Dude.
your first waking thoughts: Go back to sleep son. PLEASE.
your best physical feature: Eyes.
your favorite memory: Holding each of my babies for the first time.

layer four
pepsi or coke: Coke.
mcdonald’s or burger king: McDonald’s. Although we tend to go to Chipotle mostly. Or Panera.
single or group dates: meh
adidas or nike: I don’t care
lipton ice tea or nestea: Black unsweetened ice tea from Starbucks.
cappuccino or coffee: Whatever. Long as it comes from Starbucks.

layer five
smoke: No. Have been an asthmatic since birth.
cuss: Like a sailor, when I’m not with my kids. I have the ability to turn it on and off at will.
sing: In the car and to my kids at night.
do you think you’ve been in love: I believe so. I know I was.
want to go to college: No. I hated school. I went though.
liked high school: No.
want to get married: Again? Am unsure that I believe in it, in this moment.
believe in yourself: Some days. Am a work in progress.
get motion sickness: I get seasick. Like even on rides at Disney. A cruise looks fun, but I doubt I’ll ever really try to go on one.
think you’re attractive: Eh
think you’re a health freak: Hahahhahahaha. No.
get along with your parents: My mom. I get along with my dad…but I only show him a 5th of myself. My step-mother despises me. I rarely see them.
like thunderstorms: Yes. I adore them. As long as I’m not in the middle of one.
play an instrument: No. I used to play piano. From five to say fourteen years old. I want to learn again.

layer six
in the past month…
drank alcohol: No
smoked: no
done a drug: no
made out: No
gone on a date: No
gone to the mall: Yes. Too many times most likely.
eaten an entire box of oreos: In one sitting? Hell no. Have whole boxes been consumed in my house? Yes. Although, we are currently fans of Golden Oreos.
eaten sushi: No, which is sad. I’d like some. Right now.
been on stage: no

been dumped: no

gone skating: no

made homemade cookies: No, unless slice and bake ones count
gone skinny dipping: no
dyed your hair: no. I’m sure I should. But I’m too lazy.
stolen anything: I’ve actually never stolen a thing. Except meme’s. But I doubt that counts.
you sound boring: No, I sound like a parent. (This was Carmen’s answer…I’m gonna say DITTO.)

layer seven
ever…
played a game that required removal of clothing: yes.
if so, was it mixed company: yes.
been trashed or extremely intoxicated: yes
been caught “doing something”: yes
been called a tease: no
gotten beaten up: No.
shoplifted: no
changed who you were to fit in: Yes. Way too many times. Am trying to just be me now. But that can be hard. And lonely.

layer eight
age you hope to be married: meh
numbers and names of children: Morgan (8), Bailey (6), Harrison (Nearly 2)
describe your dream wedding: pass
how do you want to die: At 124 years old. In my sleep.
where do you want to go to college: I do not. I went though.
what do you want to be when you grow up: Heck if I know.
what country would you most like to visit: England.

layer nine
number of drugs taken illegally: none
number of people i could trust with my life: Shrug.
number of cds that i own: Oh sheesh, I don’t know. Way too many. I don’t buy them anymore, but I used to buy tons.
number of piercings: none. My ears actually mostly closed up.
number of tattoos: One.
number of times my name has appeared in the newspaper: Twice.
number of scars on my body: Five. Three from shoulder surgery. One where I nearly sliced my finger off one time. One on my toe, from the last time I didn’t wear shoes while on a bike.
number of things in my past that i regret: Too many

I like cupcakes

I have trouble with titles, so I’ve decided that on the days when I’m looking at the title box for fifteen minutes, I’ll just put something random up there. It’s better than not posting because I can’t think of a title, right? Right.

I’m not even sure I have anything to say really. I just truly needed that post to move down a bit. I know that’s not a good reason to post. I told myself I’d stop doing that…posting just to post. That was my goal for myself, after BlogHer.

Yet, I can’t leave that post up at the top anymore. It haunts me.  Not the post itself, but the topic. It hurts me. It’s hard to think about, much less write or talk about. It changed who I am. Probably not for the better.

I want to respond to all of you, for your lovely comments, but I just can’t seem to do it. I know it’s not a requirement. I do however wish I had it in me to do so. Just know, I appreciate every single one of you. You have no idea how much. Really.

Moving on.

I have no daycare for Harrison this week. Which has been interesting. You know, I got off easy when he was a baby. He was such a sweet easy little thing. He’s still sweet, don’t get me wrong….there is just nothing easy about him these days. He’s destructive. That could be in all caps actually. My boy is DESTRUCTIVE. He’s like a little Tasmanian devil.

The girls start school tomorrow. Which thrills me. I know, I know, I should be sad…blah, blah, blah. I’m not. I’m ready. I wish they’d gone on Monday. Ha.

And yeah, that’s all I know.

What I’m not doing

I should be packing. I should be working. I should be doing a lot of things that I’m not doing. Maybe printing out all of the things I need out of my email. Folding laundry. Cleaning my kitchen. Taking out my trash. Locating my ear bud things for my iPod. Trying to figure out why I can never find those dang things, seeing how I know we must have twelve pairs in this house. Getting ready for BlogHer. Oh maybe even looking at the conference packet and deciding what sessions I may be interested in.

What am I doing instead?

Posting non-sense.

Reading blogs. Because I want my reader to be on zero when I leave. Makes complete sense, yes?

Editing photos in iPhoto. Just because I’ve been meaning to do that for a year at least.

Paying attention to Twitter. Because well, it’s more fun than working.

Checking FedEx every ten minutes. Just waiting for the, your new IPHONE HAS BEEN DELIVERED status. Yeah, so far no go. But it’s on the truck.

Sitting here, willing my suitcase to figure out what I want to pack and do it all for me.

Playing Bejeweled.

I *may* be a complete procrastinator. I work best under pressure. Something like that.

Too quiet

So many days I crave quiet. My children are not quiet. Never. They even talk in their sleep. The dog? Soooo not quiet. She barks so much, that her nickname is barks-a-lot. I crave it. Quiet.  I wish for days of quiet in a row. I wish for days where I don’t have to pick up toys, clothes, yell at kids for leaving skates and cars and balls on the stairs. I sometimes wish for days where I don’t have to argue with kids to brush their teeth, beg them to eat just one more dang bite, explain why one must sleep at night. Yet here I sit, on my third day of fifteen with no kids and I’m wanting noise. Even the dog is gone, on a two week trial period at my ex’s house.

I haven’t tripped over a toy car in days. I haven’t stepped on a Littlest Pet Shop Death Trap in days. My wii remotes are next to the wii, my tv remotes on my coffee table. My couch pillows are all on my couch. There isn’t a single sippy cup on my bedside table. I Haven’t broken up a fight in days. There are no shoes to locate. No tiny underwears in the floor of the kitchen. I haven’t walked into the bathroom to see a single unflushed toilet in days. Haven’t heard my son scream, mine do it!!!!!

It’s too quiet though. Strange the things you miss.

They are having a blast. Almost too much fun to really want to talk to me. The phone goes from kid to kid in minutes flat, so they can get back to whatever they doing. Two weeks of being spoiled by grandparents. Two weeks of non-stop pool time. Of amusement parks and treats and the entire content of Target purchased for their benefit.

I remember weeks spent with my grandparents when I was a kid. Every summer, we’d go for three weeks. Grandparent time. I loved it. I always had a blast. I doubt I wanted to spend much time on the phone with my mother either. I wanted this for my kids. I know I’m blessed to have it. I know my kids are blessed to have two sets of grandparents who want as much time with them as humanly possible.

I will go see a movie today. I may read an actual book, that doesn’t involve Harry Potter or Percy Jackson. I will work. I will sleep in. Next week I will go to BlogHer and then the following Saturday, they will be home. It really is okay.

It’s awfully quiet though.

Random bits of Thursday

Because I don’t think any of them require an entire post. Yet somehow I think they might be too long and random for Twitter. Well too long at least.

1. In three weeks exactly, I will be sitting at the airport, ready to board a plane to NYC for BlogHer10. I am super freaking excited. I can’t wait to see and hug all of my friends. To stay up late with my amazing roomies. To make some mischief with Undomestic Diva…or well to watch her and photograph it. To meet new people and to FINALLY see NYC.

2. I ordered two sets of business cards. Because I am that nerdy.

3. I either pulled a muscle in my boob last night, or had an asthma attack in my sleep. Am actually leaning toward the asthma attack theory. To counteract this, I got an extra shot in my coffee this morning. Bouncing will commence in 3…2…1

4. Last night I watched a new show called Covert Affairs. Not sure which night it actually comes on though, I DVR everything. I actually really liked it. I mean it’s not Alias, but nothing is going to match up to Alias.

5. Last night Morgan convinced me I needed this app for the iPad called Fruit Ninja. Basically you slice fruit as is flies past you. It’s so dumb…yet so dang addicting. We all took turns playing it last night. Hi, time wasters.

6. The girls want to see the Sorcerer’s Apprentice this weekend. I am considering getting a sitter for Harrison on Friday night and taking them out to dinner and to a movie. A girls date night of sorts.

Well I think that is all I’ve got. At least in this moment.

For the BlogHer newbies – Part two

Part one, if you missed it or would like to see it again is HERE.

Last time we covered business cards, the fact that Issa can’t remember names, the utter lack of dress code, food, swag, drama and leaving the hotel. You know, the basics. This time I’d like to touch on things that hopefully will make you feel more comfortable and confident at the conference. Or at least that’s the goal.

The reason so many of us do these types of posts is because we remember how skerred we were the first time. Then you get there and realize, okay, this is doable. I may survive the next four days. Hell, it’s even fun. Which is why so many of us go back. So now, moving forward….

Please take this all with a grain of salt. It’s all really just my non-expert opinions…from one conference experience.

Know who else is going: Ahead of time get cell numbers of peeps you want too meet. Last year I sent out an email to my friends. I knew when people were getting in, who was rooming with who and I had a cell phone full of phone numbers. It helps to feel secure, when you can text people when you land; when you show up at the hotel; or when you are scared/sad/anxious/hiding in a bathroom.

Have buddies: Discuss the sessions at breakfast. Talk about where you want to meet up after for lunch. Don’t leave it to chance if you are nervous. There is no need to eat alone at a  conference with 1,200 people. Last year for one lunch, I ended up at a table where I only knew one person. By the time lunch was over, I knew six new people.

Groups are awesome: Invite random people to dinner with you. No joke. Last year on the last night, a bunch of us decided to venture out to an Italian restaurant about 8 blocks away. I am pretty sure I invited every person we saw in the lobby and standing around outside. We started out with a group of say 12 and got to the restaurant with about 22 people. It was one of my two favorite moments. Invite people to Starbucks with you too. You’ll meet some cool people that way.

Utilize Twitter: Use twitter to find people. It’s easy to tweet in the morning, I’m going to Starbucks in ten minutes. If you want to come meet me in the lobby. It’s the best way to find your friends. Yo @blahblahblah where are you? But try to enjoy the event and not spend the entire time on twitter. People who aren’t going equally want to know whats going on and don’t want to know everything that’s going on. Also, my personal opinion is that if you spend the entire time at a conference on your computer, you will miss out on the fun of the conference.

WiFi: Know that the wifi will likely suck. Save yourself the trouble of getting your panties in a bunch. Hai, 1200 bloggers wanting to use it. Just know it now and you won’t expect as much at the hotel.  Yes, the hotel has wifi. They are generally prepared for bunches of users. However, bunches of users and 1200 bloggers is big difference.

Do something for you: Something small for you, before the conference. Remember when school was just starting each year, how if you had a new backpack and lunch box and fresh new crayons, it seemed like it could be a good year? How wearing a new outfit that first day make you stand a bit taller?

It’s sort of the same for BlogHer. It can be scary. Mostly the thought of it. When you are there, it’s way less scary. I promise.

To make myself feel more secure and stand a bit taller as I walked into the hotel, I did a few small things for myself the week prior. I bought new flip-flops, my shoes of choice. I bought two new shirts. I got my hair trimmed the week before.  The night before, I got a pedicure. All I can tell you is what I did. You have to find whatever it is for you. Just try and do something. It really does help.

Remember Issa’s number one rule: friends don’t let friends drink room coffee.

Stifled

I write in the moment. You can probably tell by all of the spelling/grammar mistakes in my posts. I write in the moment. I write to get the words out of my head. I write what I need to say and then I post it. If it’s hard to write it, I am likely to not even re-read it before I hit post. I should, this I know, but I don’t. Sometimes I just can’t.

Part of it, makes me real. It’s what keeps some of you coming back. I am honest and raw and very emotional. At least on this blog. It’s like I open up my head, shake out my thoughts on this page and don’t look back. It helps me in life, to be able to remove some of these thoughts in this space. You get me, here in this space. The real me. The honest, sometimes crazy, sometimes a mess, me. I have been told by some that it’s a great thing. I’ve been told by others it is what will keep me from making it as a blogger. Whatever that means.

It’s also what leaves me open and vulnerable. So much so, that on occasion I can’t even read the comments. I normally do. There have been times where I haven’t. Those I keep for later. Sometimes? Later doesn’t come.

Right now? It’s keeping me from writing. I have a lot of things I want to say. However, I don’t know that I should. I don’t feel like I can. I open and close this page. Have for a week now. I believe I have caused my share of drama for the year. My quota has been filled and I’m done.

Posting may be light around here, until I find my sea legs again. A space that used to feel so safe, now feels not so safe. I always knew my words could be used against me, but I now find myself unsure how to speak at all. I feel stifled.

Re-definining camping

We went camping this weekend. That is what the kids and I are calling it. The girls and I decided that we could and will make up our own definition of camping. Their dad has one version of camping. It includes tents and no showers and eating food that somehow always has dirt in it. The kids like it, but hey, they are all under nine years old, so their judgment on that is a bit skewed. That is not what I call a good camping experience, personally.

Normally when asked I have said that my idea of camping is a hotel without room service. Part of me still believes this. Wikipedia says camping is where one leaves their urban home and goes and spends a few days in nature. I was in nature people. I swear I was. There was no Target for a hundred miles, nor a Starbucks. I did not have internet for three days. Nature.

However, I really like my new version of camping:

It includes a borrowed vacation home, in the boondocks. ‘Boondocks’ is a smallish town in the mountains, a ski town, where about 2,000 people live year round. Just, you know in case you were confused about the term boondocks. Like I said, I’m redefining things today people. Where was I? Oh yes. Home in the boondocks. Borrowed from a miscellaneous relative who loans it to everyone. I know this for a fact, because we had to share it with a, I believe third cousin of my moms, son and his wife and daughter? Something like that. However, the house was big enough for all of us. If they’d not had a daughter in between my girls ages, they could have easily avoided us all weekend.

Camping now includes a 360 view of the mountains. A deck to look at the stars at night. (Holy cow people, I’ve never seen that many stars.) A hot tub on said deck, is also amazing.

Camping includes a great little coffee shop that makes their own beans and has pastries that are better than anything one can find in Denver.

Camping includes restaurants in town, none of which are chains. All of which are family owned and had great food.

Camping includes a gas grill. It includes a porch fire pit. One that you can load real wood into and have the experience of a camp fire, while still getting to go inside to sleep in a real bed.

Camping includes too many s’mores, sugar crazed kids, a random keg party three blocks over that decides to light off a few fireworks and a Sonic on the road home. Because the drive home is just better when it includes a cherry limeade.

So, what is your definition of camping?

My real family

When I was a kid, I always wished I belonged to another family. A better family. One that was less like mine. Sometimes I imagined that my real family had misplaced me somehow. Maybe that there had been a horrible switch at the hospital and they’d find me one day. I imagined a sister. A twin. Somehow I was convinced I had a twin out there. Parents who were still married. Parents who were home when I got home from school. A mom who cooked on days that weren’t just Sunday. A dad who actually cared.

There were no step-parents, or step-siblings in my imaginary world. No heartache. No feeling invisible. No feeling like I didn’t exist. Like no one would really notice if I just faded away.

I watched too much television. I saw families on TV and was convinced my ‘real’ family would be like that. Where minor squabbles or issues were solved in 24 short minutes. Where major issues could be solved the next week in 24 more minutes.You know, the: My Two Dads, Fresh Prince, Full House, The Cosby Show, Family Ties; way of life.

I read to escape my life. I was constantly reading at least three books. I spent every waking moment that I could in the pool, because underwater? I was a mermaid looking for my real family. My imagination helped me make it through childhood. My family is not the white picket fence type. Heck, neither of my parents even owned a house during my childhood. Literally, I lived in one neighborhood 8 different times. And surrounding neighborhoods and surrounding cities. We went to the same school, but we moved constantly. My mother is convinced I haven’t painted my house, because I don’t believe that I can. She may be right.

Sadly my ‘real’ family never came to find me. As years have gone on, I’ve realized that I just don’t fit in either side of my family. Sure I can get along at times with most of them,, for short periods of time, but I don’t have a place. I used to have a place in Logan’s family, but I don’t really now either. It’s too uncomfortable for them. It’s too much work. Too much effort. Really? I understand. In a way, it’s too much work for me too.

But I’m back to not fitting in anywhere. And it kinda sucks. Some days I think I fit in online and then others I know I don’t. I’m just too odd; real;  sensitive; depressing;  intense. I spend way too much time up in my head. Take your pick. Don’t suppose it really matters.

Doesn’t mean I won’t keep making a space for myself in this big ole Internet. I will. I also know I don’t really have a place where I fit. I guess in a way, it’s something that I’m used too.

My real family is my kids. My three amazing balls of crazy. They get me. I get them. They are the coolest people I know. But I only have them half the time. They are also just kids. I have a very firm idea on being my kids parent now and their friend later.

I spend too much time alone. I spend too much time online.

Right now? I just feel lost.

I don’t know what to do about any of it. I don’t know that there is anything to do about it. It just is.

Sometimes, when I can’t sleep, I wonder about my imaginary family. If I wasn’t the spitting image (looks and as I hear it, personality) of my great-grandma, I’d consider the possibility that I was switched at birth. I know I wasn’t though.

Maybe one day, I’ll find my place. Hopefully.