Six Word Saturday

it's never quite what you thought

A bit of mystery never hurt...

Note: I'm aware word verification is appearing before the comments. I have it disabled. It appears that if you leave the field blank, you can still enter a comment. I tried to figure it out when it first started but had no luck. I'll try again when I have some time.

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Want to play along? All that's necessary to participate is to describe your life (or something) in a phrase using just six words. For more information, try clicking here. Feel free to explain or not explain. Add an image, a video, a song, nothing. I love seeing what everyone does with their entries.

Each week (probably on Sunday or Monday), I use random.org to select a bunch of entries to visit.  Or I visit everyone. Or even numbered entries. Or odd numbered entries. Or multiples of three. Depends on what's going on that week.  In addition, please visit the person ahead of you on the list (or visit everyone if you like!). That way everyone receives at least one visit!

If you play along in your blog, please add a link to the Mr. Linky. I appreciate a link back (shiny code below if you like!). Otherwise, you're welcome to leave your six words in this post as a comment.

Please be sure to link either to your main page or (preferably) directly to the 6WS post. Links to blogs that do not contain a 6WS entry will be removed (sorry, just the button in the sidebar doesn't count as participating).

Six Word Saturday

March: In like a drunk giraffe...

Question: I'm aware word verification is appearing before the comments. I have it disabled. It appears that if you leave the field blank, you can still leave a comment. I tried to figure it out when it first started but had no luck. I'll try again when I have some time.

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Want to play along? All that's necessary to participate is to describe your life (or something) in a phrase using just six words. For more information, try clicking here. Feel free to explain or not explain. Add an image, a video, a song, nothing. I love seeing what everyone does with their entries.

Each week (probably on Sunday or Monday), I use random.org to select a bunch of entries to visit.  Or I visit everyone. Or even numbered entries. Or odd numbered entries. Or multiples of three. Depends on what's going on that week.  In addition, please visit the person ahead of you on the list (or visit everyone if you like!). That way everyone receives at least one visit!

If you play along in your blog, please add a link to the Mr. Linky. I appreciate a link back (shiny code below if you like!). Otherwise, you're welcome to leave your six words in this post as a comment.

Please be sure to link either to your main page or (preferably) directly to the 6WS post. Links to blogs that do not contain a 6WS entry will be removed (sorry, just the button in the sidebar doesn't count as participating).

Six Word Saturday

I don't deal well with uncertainty

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Want to play along? All that's necessary to participate is to describe your life (or something) in a phrase using just six words. For more information, try clicking here. Feel free to explain or not explain. Add an image, a video, a song, nothing. I love seeing what everyone does with their entries.

Each week (probably on Sunday or Monday), I use random.org to select a bunch of entries to visit.  Or I visit everyone. Or even numbered entries. Or odd numbered entries. Or multiples of three. Depends on what's going on that week.  In addition, please visit the person ahead of you on the list (or visit everyone if you like!). That way everyone receives at least one visit!

If you play along in your blog, please add a link to the Mr. Linky. I appreciate a link back (shiny code below if you like!). Otherwise, you're welcome to leave your six words in this post as a comment.

Please be sure to link either to your main page or (preferably) directly to the 6WS post. Links to blogs that do not contain a 6WS entry will be removed (sorry, just the button in the sidebar doesn't count as participating).

<a href="http://www.showmyface.com/search/label/6WS"><img src="http://i395.photobucket.com/albums/pp35/showmyface/guts/6wsButton.jpg" ></a>

NOT What I Meant!

Apologies in advance to my Twitter pals for this post - you got this about 24 hours before it hit the blog.

While doing ALL THE THINGS yesterday, I made a call to my grandmother about our upcoming trip and then tweeted about it while also doing about four other tasks. The result?



It was only after I had tweeted (and someone retweeted) that I realized it sounded like I was giving Gramma less than a week to live. I had meant it as a correction. "No, Gramma, we were NOT there last weekend and ignored you. I'm calling because we're coming THIS weekend and would like to find a time to visit."

Twitter is dangerous - I can do a lot of damage with those 140 characters! Including handing out death sentences to grannies!

I'm Tired

Today, a little stream of consciousness post because I need to clear my head. Or at least try.

Tired. I'm tired of being inside my head. I'm tired of the chaos in there.

Things are generally good right now! I'm happier than I've ever been. And that's the problem! How can "good" be a problem? Because stability has a lot to do with a steady base that can withstand the movement it experiences. And so if your base isn't strong, the best chances of staying level are if there isn't a lot of movement. So the more "good" I experience, the more movement to my weak base. I go UP and then my messed up brain thinks that rather than reset normal to UP, it's better to just swing way far to DOWN to kind of even things out.

Why can't we quit zigging and zagging and just walk a new straight line?

And so it goes that the more I experience happy, the more unsettled I feel. Why can't I just be happy and have that be a good thing?

My poor husband. There's no winning with me. I AM happy, dammit. I'm finding my way. Largely because of the freedom he provides to me. And I'm sure that to his well-functioning logical brain, I make no sense. That must be frustrating to him.

And to everyone. Probably you're tired of hearing about the insides of my head, whether you read it here, or on twitter, or in email, or I babble at you in person. You may think I have it made. "She quit her job. She doesn't work. She screws around all day and goes on a lot of trips and shops and is living the life." I try to hide a lot of of my imbalance. It either comes out in really short bursts or in big storms. I'm storming today. I don't know if I'll publish this or not but I just need to write it out.

I'm taking on new things. It's good. It's scary. It's an adjustment because it's different and there I go again all wobbly in my head. It's a choice (or a bunch of choices) I'm making to deliberately put myself off-balance. I need to keep pushing. I need to get stronger. I need to make progress. I need to KEEP making progress - I don't know when I'll be done or fixed - but the more I struggle, the more it's a sign that I'm making forward movement. I hope when my husband is frustrated with me that he can remember a time not THAT long when I couldn't leave the house without getting sick. When I wouldn't go out to do anything. When I wouldn't drive myself anywhere.

The fact that I keep struggling indicates that I've made progress.

I just wish it didn't make me want to crawl back into bed or self-medicate in unhealthy ways or shut off my mind.

It all makes me really tired.

P.S. I decided to publish this because I know I'm not the only one facing this kind of chaos. If you go through this too, you're not alone. If you know someone who suffers, maybe this will give you a little insight. Be gentle.

P.P.S. Also, I need you to know that I'm alright. Really.

This Ends With Me Feeling Lame Regardless

I have a little situation. By which I do NOT mean "it's a huge situation and I'm freaking out and HALP!!!!". I mean, it's a small inconsequential kind of thing. But still, I wonder if there's a way to handle it that doesn't leave me feeling like a jerkface.

My brother's birthday was last weekend and I was too lazy busy with classwork to get him a card. Instead, I did the next best totally over-the-top sister thing and sent him a book from his Amazon wish list. I figured the book was $10, free 2-day shipping (love Prime!), and more practical than hauling my busy self around town to pick up a $4 card plus postage and it wouldn't get there until after his birthday due to the holiday.

Anyways.

The book was delivered on Friday. And left on his front porch according to UPS. I tried to call him on his birthday but no answer. Here we are on Wednesday and I haven't heard from him. And here's where the "now I end up looking like a jerkface so what do I do" part.

Option A: I call or email him and say "Hey, hope you had a swell birthday, umm, did you get the gift I sent?" This means I'm a jerk because it sounds like I'm fishing for a pat on the back and I'm calling out the birthday boy for being rude and not acknowledging the gift.

Option B: I don't bring it up and just hope he got it instead of the neighbor. It was only $10 so it's not like I'm out a whole lot. And I don't make my brother feel like a slacker. But then I'll always wonder if he got it...

See? Told you it was trivial. But I never know how to handle that because I want to make sure the gift was received (what if it was a larger gift?) but I also don't want to be fishing for thank yous or making the recipient feel bad.

I think the only option really is to buy gifts just for me. I always tell myself thank you. I'm awesome like that.

Chicken Scratch

It has recently come to my attention that my handwriting resembles that of a high school student. In fact, if you compare my current class notes with those I took for American History, I'm fairly certain they're almost identical.

Except I've recently stopped dotting my Is with little hearts.

When I was talking this over with SomeMonkey (because, really, I don't even decide which socks to wear in the morning without discussing it with her first), I was complaining that I hate the inconsistent mishmash that is my current penmanship "style". Sometimes I even write the same letter completely differently in the same word. She said she does this too and believes it's a sign of intelligence and creativity - or possibly inconsistency and self-esteem issues. I was going to say it was indicative of multiple personality disorder but her reasoning works as well.

Anyways, that made me wonder if it's possible to change your handwriting? I'm not just talking neater - I mean a completely different style. A quick Google search seems to indicate that it's possible. I found this link on eHow and a bunch of books on Amazon. Unfortunately, most of those books seem to think that instead of writing like a teenager, I should revert to second grade, all proper-like. But overall, it seems like it can be done if you're just mindful of what you're doing and practice a lot.

So do I keep writing like my oily-faced, big-haired, NKOTB-loving teenage self and embrace my inner-psychopath? Or do I sneak in a little handwriting revision therapy?

Yeah, these really are the kinds of issues I think about when I'm supposed to be doing other things but my brain won't let me focus. Someone has to tackle important issues like this - might as well be me!

Someday...

...I will learn not to engage.
...I will realize that you cannot logically reason with some people.
...I will give up that last shred of hope for her approval.
...I will tell the world what she did.
...I will really let it go enough that her words don't make me cry.
...I will find a way to overcome my initial reaction of disgust when I hear the word "mother".
...I will believe that just because my own mother doesn't love me doesn't make me unlovable.

...she will realize that her constant preaching has driven me away from church.
...she will learn that she can only rewrite history in her own mind.
...she will grasp her hypocrisy.
...she will face the fact that her narcissism has driven away those who should be closest.
...she will know that it's too late to fix it.
...she will understand that giving birth doesn't make someone a mother.
...she will regret it.

Someday.

Probably not today.

One of Those Days

There's a reason I like to blog the night before - it's mornings like this. Wowie, have I ever been off and running!

On the way to work, I receive an email from a friend that one of the sites I run is down. Due to the number of non-geeks in the room, I'll simplify the situation - my (other) blog go bye bye. I'm still waiting to see if Joe has been properly backing things up.

And then there's the return of the boss after he's been out sick Friday and Monday. He continues to prove his worthiness of his nickname - the Drama Llama. Plus, a coworker that royally screwed up on Thursday is conveniently absent today. So much telling-Cate-of-the-omg-crisis.

Today is also the day that everyone and their mother has decided to give out MY phone number at work and tell them I'm responsible for 100 things that I have absolutely nothing to do with. I'm about to take the phone off the hook.

So all of that is why I should remember to write a post the night before - I can't always count on a quiet morning to come up with something brilliant. Instead, I turn to my friend SomeMonkey for a bit of inspiration and she comes up with an experiment.

One day, when I was feeling really down about finally signing my divorce papers, I decided to go for a walk in the woods. As I turned a corner, a tiger pounced on me and tried to eat my face. Instead, I whacked him in the head with a golf club. The end.

It's a bit of a search engine experiment, you see. A few popular keywords used out of context. Yeah, I'm easily amused. I hope you are too because this post sucks. I'll make it a point to write something worthwhile for tomorrow.

Migraine Rhymes With Pain (Not a Coincidence)

Note: I didn't write a post for today. And I don't feel like writing one. So instead I'm pulling this post out of the drafts and publishing without really looking it over again because I don't even feel like editing a post.

This post makes more sense if you watch the show Lost. But it doesn't discuss any spoilers. And it still might not be funny.

Last week, I experienced one hell of a migraine. Truthfully, I'm surprised I was able to gain control of it without heading into the emergency room for shots. Grateful, though. It's always preferable to avoid hours wasted in the ER while they inject chemicals into my booty.

One of the side effects of migraines (for me - they vary greatly for each person) is dysnomia. You may remember seeing it in action before, back when I tried to buy celery. Anyways, that inability to recall the correct word is called dysnomia. Here's an example from my recent migraine adventure:

chixor: NO LOST NEXT WEEK
me: yeah, wth up with no lost last week
err, next week
dysnomia ftw
chixor: are you time travelling now too?
am i talking to sideways cate or real timeline cate
me: alternate universe cate
chixor: lol
me: I've gone "off-island"
and by "off-island", i mean "completely cuckoo"

So at least she was able to give me a laugh over my mix up. And if I could time travel alongside Desmond? Rawr! Sign me up for more migraines!

Playing Favorites

Yesterday afternoon, SomeMonkey was telling me about something one of her kids had done. I responded that this is why Child #3 is my favorite.

And that made me think. They say it's wrong to have a favorite child. It made me feel bad that her children #1 and #2 are not my favorites. Does she resent me for it? Was I being unfair? Rude?

But the thing is, they aren't my children so I guess it doesn't matter. Really, that works to my advantage - it's well-known that outside of my family, I'm the favorite. The smartest, the brightest, the most successful. Inside of my family, it's well-known that I'm the least favorite. The most rebellious, the coldest, the one that occasionally stands up to our mother's lying and narcissism. So it's to my advantage that people outside of the family are allowed to have favorites, especially if that favorite is going to be moi.

I'm sure that with time, SomeMonkey's Child #2 will be my favorite anyways. #1 and #3 are boys and eventually, boys are gross. Child #1 has already crossed that threshold and Child #3 has about two more years before he falls from grace. And then it's all about the girl.

Be warned, Child #2. Cate is coming for you.

Lent

Yeah, it's Friday, and Lent. Which means it's time for the annual argument in our house about whether or not fish is meat. (For the record, yes, duh, it is. If you don't agree or your name is Joe get your own blog!)

So I will have to remind him that I already won this battle last year. Like I have won all battles in the past and will continue to win them in the future. Because I am woman, hear me rawr!

Not being at an overly religious place in my life right now, I did wonder briefly about giving something up for Lent. And I finally decided I was giving up the idea of giving up something for Lent. But then yesterday, I realized that maybe I'd just use the next 40 days to take on something instead.

The thing I'm taking on? Me. Work has been hellish this week. Horrible, demanding, insulting, and demoralizing. And it's not as simple as just finding a new job because (Reader's Digest condensed version) Joe's job is currently a bit up in the air. Not as in he's in danger of being fired or "resourced" but more that some decisions are being made that he doesn't agree with and he may be choosing to move on in about six months.

So while I'm sitting tight and Lenting, I'm going to focus on redoing my professional website to strengthen my position for moving in a direction I like.

That seems much more productive than arguing about fish. Especially since fish is so unquestionably meat.

Big Squirrel On Campus

While chatting with a friend recently, the conversation came around to squirrels on campus, like it always does.

Wait, it always doesn't? Must be we're doing it wrong.

Anyways.

At her school, seeing an albino squirrel on the way to an exam was a harbinger of an A.

At my university, we didn't have albino squirrels that I can remember. However, we did have squirrels aplenty. And one day, I came across the priest-president of the university. You would think this would be an intimidating superior kind of person but instead, as I came upon him, he reached over and handed something to the squirrel.

"Look," he said to me. "They like the green ones!"

And that's the day I fed Lifesavers to a squirrel with the president of our university.

What's that got to do with anything? Nothing at all. But it came to mind and I figured I'd just post it up for you because even though I said I would be MIA for a bit, I guess I meant more from reading/commenting and not so much from blogging here. Because I have a blogging sickness I'm just too committed to providing quality squirrel-related entertainment.

You're welcome.

Big Day

Ever have one of those days that just seems will be significant somewhere down the line? I feel like I had one of those days. I haven't been able to process it all yet but our trip is going amazingly well and it makes me almost uneasy.

- We managed to catch the last flight out of Philly to our podunk destination on Friday morning - all later flights to podunk were canceled due to snow.

- Friday night, we had an amazing dinner with fantastic friends. Is there anything better?

- My brother and SIL made the trip despite expecting over 2 feet of snow they'll have to drive back through to reach home.

- Saturday morning, we had breakfast with my FIL who traditionally runs extremely late and isn't always well in many ways. However, he was ready promptly at 9am and we had a really nice time together.

- I spent 9 hours at my parents' home with my mother, father, brother, SIL, sister, BIL, nephew and new niece. And Joe, of course. We all got along well; there were minimal eye-rolling occasions or awkward moments.

- Babies are cute, y'all. I held her a lot and she's made of sugar and spice and everything awesome. The nephew is adorkable despite some teething grumpiness.

- We spent a few hours in the evening with my 80 yr old grandmother who is always bitter and morose but not this time. We had good conversation, stayed away from the touchy topics, and left without her having a crying breakdown.

A really unexpectedly great day. Lots of family exposure, no need for xanax. I can't wrap my mind around it. I'm not sure if I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop or what exactly. I just feel like it was a 'big' day in a way I haven't yet identified.

Anyways, sorry for the babbles with no conclusion or point. As I write this late Saturday night, I'm just kind of tapping out whatever's in my head. I suppose that's easier than trying to think it through.

P.S. My husband is a swell guy. I'm not sure what I'd do without him. That's not about anything specific, I just felt the need to share.

Protection

The following was written between 10pm and 11pm. The events occur in real time.

Said in my best movie trailer voice...

In a world where unemployment, piggy flu, and Brangelina roam free, there's a man with a gruff voice, immunity from sleep deprivation, a bottomless bladder, and a man-purse watching out for you.

Seriously, don't we all wish there was a Jack Bauer out there covering our asses? (Though I'm kinda creeped out at the idea of a Chloe hacking away at my interwebz. And do you think she's ever been caught playing Solitaire? Nah, didn't think so.)

I guess if we can't have Walker, Texas Ranger keeping track of us, Bauer will have to do.

And by "have to do", I kinda mean "rawr".

Ingredients For A Completely Broken Head

• a yappy massage therapist
• white wine for dinner
• two quarreling cats
• dreams of foreign language ATMs eating my credit cards
• sun shining in windows because blinds are slanted wrong direction
• church committee meeting that's all talk, no action, 100% frustration
• dying battery in smoke detector: BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
• burnt panini from Brueggers (okay, this has nothing to do with my head but it still pissed me off)

All of those add up to a very cranky Cate on Sunday afternoon. Especially when you figure in a list of things to do that's at least half a mile long. Followed by dinner plans with virtual strangers (to me - the guy is a HS classmate of Joe's).

Let's all be thankful that I have today off!

P.S. I wrote this post around 3pm yesterday afternoon. By the time we left for dinner, my headache was more reasonable. We had a fantastic dinner and Joe's friend and his wife were great company. It was a blast and I was sad to see the evening end.

Emotions

I was able to speak to Tina (my sister) last night. She and the baby are doing fine. Baby is a girl, fairly average in weight and length. She's already going bald and giving into the influence of super-thin models by not wanting to eat a whole lot. Dainty already.

The doctors ran a hearing test and she's not responding well out of her left ear. My sister says she's doomed if the baby's already not listening to her. I suggested she probably inherited that trait from her daddy.

I'm not sure there isn't an emotion I didn't cover at one point yesterday. I was worried when I hadn't heard anything. Relieved and happy when I finally did hear. Angry that it took so long to hear. Lonely for my sister. Frustrated that my family is so screwed up. Sad that I'm not closer to my sister. Upset that I'm so undecided about my own future when it comes to family. Doubtful I could handle it. Resentful that while my friends are encouraging, the one person whose encouragement might make a difference doesn't seem to realize it.

When my sister had Collin, I didn't envy her the little boy. But there is something about that precious pink little girl that made me feel very empty. And unworthy. And depressed. And jealous. And confused.

I wish that range of emotions had skewed a bit more towards the positive side. I wish I knew more who I am and what I want. But I guess that's what this year is about.

P.S. Happier Cate is in here somewhere. She'll be posting tomorrow.

Bible Names

My brother was born the summer before I went to kindergarten. I suppose I was excited about the arrival of the new baby though I probably didn't really understand.

Not long before he was born, my parents asked me if I had any suggestions for what we should call the new baby. They very specifically asked for a Bible name. I believe this was to prove to their new church friends that the religion thing was sticking. I thought about it quite seriously before giving them my answer.

"I think we should name the baby Jesus."

Yeah, you try explaining to a five-year-old why if you're requesting a Bible name you shouldn't just go with the star of the whole show!

And then they named him Rob. I may be rusty on my Bible knowledge but I don't remember a whole lot of Robs in there.

Babynames.com: The meaning of the name Robert is Bright Fame

Bright Fame. That just oozes Jesus.

P.S. I finished my first book for 2010 yesterday. 24 more to go!
P.P.S. Is "oozes Jesus" appropriate?

Judgement Day

Today I have jury duty.

Me, who is so freaked out the night before as I write this that I'm pretty sure I won't even find the parking deck. And if I find the parking deck, some deity help me because I'm pretty sure I can't find the court house 2 blocks away. And if i DO find the court house? I'm going to freeze to death on the way there because it is a frickdiculous amount of freezing coldness here.

Oh yeah, and let's just say I get there all in one piece and on time, thus avoiding being fined or thrown into jail. THEN I may be seated on a jury in which I'm expected to judge another person's innocence. And possibly throw out some sentencing.

Yeah, me. Me who (whom?) does not believe I'm really capable of deciding whether I should take the highway or city streets. Me who has spent the last 60 minutes spazzing about my ability to reach the place wherein I may be handing out punishment. Dude, I'm not worthy of trying to operate a vending machine on behalf of someone else. Please don't count me as a peer.

My hopes are that either I am dismissed early or struck by lightning before I screw someone's life up for them.

And please let it be before lunch because you would not believe the amount of spazzing I have done over the lack of information regarding the lunch situation.

P.S. I will have Gwen (my Blackberry) unless they take her away so please leave a comment, send an email, or drop me a Tweet of encouragement.

P.P.S. Assuming I escape from this experience with my life, I'll be posting my "Word of the Year: 2010" tomorrow. But, again, that's assuming I don't die or something. Or end up thrown into the clink (is it called a "clink"?) for obstruction of justice or contempt of court or for wearing jeans because I'm fat and want to be comfy and not freeze to death.

P.P.P.S. Laugh all you want but I'm seriously freaking.

How to Sucker the Husband Into Cooking Dinner

Here is my 100% fool-proof (because if ever there was a fool, it would be me) plan to spring the husband into dinner-making action.

8:30am - Text the husband. "Forgot my meds this am. Gonna be quite the day"
11:00am - Update Facebook status. "Cate is freezing in her office. Also, my head is starting to pound."
2:15pm - Turn to Twitter. Multiple tweets about how you are praying for the arrival of 5pm so you can drag your poor throbbing head home to your migraine meds. Lament about the cleaning you had planned for the evening and how you just don't know how you'll manage to do anything when you're in such pain.
6:17pm - As soon as you hear the garage door, switch off the tv and jump into bed, lights off, pulling the ice pack over your head as you yank the slanket over your pajamas. When the husband comes in and asks how you are doing, moan unintelligibly as if he just woke you up.

If the husband has any brains at all the will to continue living a dislike for sleeping on the couch a heart, he will go downstairs and prepare dinner, without being "asked".

Also, you need to realize I have left out the years of doctors' visits, medications, and headaches leading up to this actual day, all of which set the groundwork for a night off in the kitchen.

P.S. Joe actually loves to cook so we both routinely make meals. However, if your husband is not as awesome as Chef Joe, the above method may be worth a try.

P.P.S. I did have a real migraine last night. So I wasn't making it up. But it did occur to me that this would totally work if I just wanted a night off.

Please note, times are approximate. Results may vary depending on husband's resistance to sleeping alone. Technically, microwaved mac and cheese does count as a meal. No cats were harmed in the making of this post, except for Tonya who insists on being underfoot and may have inadvertently had her tail stepped on.