Breakfast Aisles at the Grocery Store

Yesterday I had to hit the grocery store in the morning before school so that I could get treats for a kid to pass out since it was his last day.  Ironically, it was Headlock Kid, for those of you that read my facebook posts.  Anyway, I was sad thinking about how much I was going to miss this kid, and how sad it is that some kids live such transient lives.

Then it hit me.

I turned down the cereal aisle and all my thoughts came to a screeching halt as they arrived at only one thought, It smells good here.  I need food.  Never had I realized how the blending of coffee, hot chocolate, cereal bars, cereal cereal, and granola everything could twist and swirl together into this amazing cloud of yummy smelliness.

It was intense.

It was delicious.

It was effective.

I definitely plunked down my quarters and dimes and dollars so that I might recreate a snippet of the best smelling (and of course the brightest colored) items in that aisle.  Oh, and I got HK some treats to pass out too.

Yesterday's High: Breakfast Aisle
Yesterday's Low: Goodbye, Headlock Kid.

It doesn't taste good and it's not brightly colored.

Yeah, I was gone for a while.  I didn't think you'd miss me and you didn't.  The world kept turning.  I'm not insulted.  I'm that kind of person too.

Anyway, I wanted to write a post because my old lady brain is already starting to spark and sputter and I feel like within a couple years I'm going to be drawing a pension and I'll have my picture in one of those medical journals for being, quite possibly, the youngest person to ever have such advanced memory loss.  Alzheimer's?  Maybe.  I think it's mostly because I don't like to spend time "reflecting" on my life.  I would rather live in the moment than think about what I've already done.  

And, plus, I'm just a simple-minded dummy.  

I choose the brightly colored objects.  

I gravitate toward food and away from crying children.   

I buy anything endorsed by a cartoon character. 

And I pass through life eating, laughing, learning, loving, hugging, teaching, jumping, crying, and sometimes sleeping.  But reflecting?  Nah.  It doesn't taste good and it's not brightly colored.

Travis brought to my attention an event that we attended last year around this time.  As he was talking about it I thought, Wow, that sounds super fun!  I don't remember that at all.  It scared me that I'd participated in an activity that was fun and quite possibly shaped my life in some tiny way, and I never would have remembered it had my husband not mentioned it.  Okay, honestly, it was about watching a Chiefs game at Buffalo Wild Wings.  It probably didn't actually change my life, but it scared me nonetheless because what if, in a few years, Travis brings up the day we got married and I can't remember anything about it because I didn't reflect on it and spend time thinking about how that day would/will/has shaped my life!?!  I know that's extreme but I also know I'm
just.
               that.
                                simple-minded.  

So, I've been thinking about what to do.  They say to keep your mind fresh you should play "smart people" games.  I play and lose enough of those with the Bearded Guy, so I'll go ahead and say Thanks, I'm set in that area.  Then I thought I'd keep a diary.  Riiiiight.  Go ahead, I'll give you time to get out of the chair and go count how many "journals" you own.  Done counting yet?  Chances are, if you're like me (although for your sake, I hope you're not!) that you've got a few.  I can't keep a journal!  I can't focus enough to completely write a check, let alone record and ruminate upon all the thoughts that swim in and out of my head each day!  Travis said something about how I should "listen more."  Gotcha Travis.  I know that's just a ploy to get me to learn your Chemistry junk.  No way.  I have to listen enough to eight year-olds tell about the "one time Uncle Jake let me ride the, the, the, well, he's not my uncle but he's my cousin, and he let me, I think he's my dad's friend, actually, anyway, he let me, he has a puppy and he let me ride his four wheeler, it's actually a lawn mower, but I really like his puppy!"  Have you ever tried listening to an 8 year-old tell a story?  Try it some time.  Ask 'em how their weekend was.  THEN tell ME I need to LISTEN more!  Ahem.  So, I thought Hey, why not fire up the old blog?  Get 'er runnin' again real smooth.  Apparently I think in a farmer voice.  So, in a never-ending effort of self-improvement, I would like to work on reflecting upon my life by updating my blog.  I've got a pretty great life and a pretty poor memory, so it can't hurt much!

I wrote my first blog idea on my hand this morning so I wouldn't forget it.  Seriously.  Old lady brain.  I wrote "BFAST" on my hand since I wanted to write about something pertaining to breakfast.  Of course, later on in the day, I looked at my hand and wondered what it was I had to "be fast" about.  That's how bad it is, people!  So, hopefully my next post will have the keyword breakfast in it somewhere and it won't be a post about how I need to somehow be fast at something.

If I do write about being fast, someone please come over here and help mama fill out her pension forms.  Quickly.

The Book of Awesome

Recently, I began following a blog called 1000awesomethings.com. I read about it on another blog: cakewrecks.com. I recommend both of these amazing nooks in cyberspace. CakeWrecks will make you giggle your eyeballs out and 1000 Awesome Things will add a few minutes of refreshment to your busy, irritating day. It's like a glass of cold lemonade Dr. Pepper on a hot summer day. I now currently have both the book versions of these blogs. One was a gift to me and one is a gift for someone else.

I think I'm going to start my own list of awesome things. I'm already a pretty positive person but I think it's mentally healthy to find those minute parts of your life that bring you small joys. Generally these are so small that you don't even think about them as being joyful, you just feel better after the tiny instance has happened. So, here goes:

#1 Waking up to sun streaming in your bedroom window

Forget about that dream where you're being chased by werewolves, and lay aside the thoughts about all the things you have to do today because right now there is an explosion of light coming through the windows so intense that you can actually see the sunbeams mixing with the tiny floating pieces of dust hovering over your bed. The walls used to be white but now they appear to be glowing in the luminescence. Sure, there's an oil spill off our coast and Gary Coleman just died yesterday, but right now, all I can think of are God's amazing blessings. Solar power is

AWESOME!

5am to 8am thoughts

5:00 Alarm goes off. Fat chance. Hit snooze.

5:09 Alarm goes off again. I hit snooze but don't go back to sleep. I lay in bed missing Travis and feeling the cool air from the fan propped up in our bedroom's open window. I drift in and out in the new morning light. It's crazy that it's already light out at 5:00. I never knew it got this light out so early. Maybe because I've never gotten up at 5-something on a regular basis before.

5:18 Alarm goes off. Enough messing around. I spring out of bed and flip on the light with satisfaction that 1) I slept well despite Travis being 400 miles away and 2) that Travis isn't still asleep in bed so I have to tiptoe in the dimness to find clothes to wear to the gym.

5:30 Teeth brushed, ponytail in place, gym clothes on (these pants are really too short), and I've inhaled both of the necessary medicines that keep me alive while at the gym--and everywhere else for that matter.

5:36 Get to the gym, leave my purse and keys in the car. Small town. Pay $1.07 to jog on the track at the gym (not renewing my membership until I come back from Canada) and take note of who's here.

The regulars that are present:

Conroy East group, exercising in a room upstairs. They are machines.

The usual teacher group. 3 of them doing various workouts on machines in the weight room.

Mysterious green-shirted man. Always walking. Always wearing a cap. Always wearing the same green shirt. He's there when I get here and he's there when I leave. The few times I've had to work out in the afternoon, he's also been there. He looks like the kind of guy who maybe used to weigh like 400 pounds but lost a whole lot and now doesn't feel comfortable with his body for a new list of reasons. I don't talk to him or make eye contact with him but he watches where I am on the track, especially if I am jogging up behind him. Not in a creepy way. He's interesting and I feel a pang of guilt that I'm shy around him.

Pat. I don't know his real name. He looks just like my neighbor from behind. My neighbor's a woman. He's kinda odd. One time I fell asleep on the exercise mats (long, funny story) and when I woke up, Pat was sitting next to me. He said "Good morning" I think.

JoAnne and another OLIA (Old Lady I Admire). They aren't here yet, but they will be here at 6 on the dot. I don't know how old these old ladies are but they walk every morning and they are so nice. I feel convicted to turn down the Black Eyed Peas blaring out of my iPod when I jog by them.

These regulars not present:

Pat (real name) and Rich. My husband's racquetball buddies. They aren't here and neither is my husband. Wave of loneliness washes over me, but I recover.

I go upstairs and stretch and laugh to myself about how freakishly short these blue athletic pants actually are. Too long to be called capris but way too short to be pants. Oh well, I don't think anyone here cares.

5:40 I'm on the track and jogging. 4 minutes jogging. 4 minutes walking. 4 minutes jogging. 4 minutes walking. The best part of this "hamster wheel" indoor track is on the southern end, smack in the middle of the curved part, in the outermost lane, is the best place to get blasted with cold air conditioning. I pretend the cold air is my "battery power energizer." It reminds me of the video game F-Zero when you drive your car over the little bar code-looking section of the track and it boosts your energy. 4 minutes jogging. OLIAs show up. 4 minutes walking. I'm tired. I don't want to do any more. This is my last time for a while to jog, maybe I could ease up and just do those 3 intervals. 4 minutes jogging. 4 minutes walking. Maybe I'll quit and leave it at 32 minutes today. I'm out of breath and my legs hurt. Six weeks I've been doing this. Shouldn't it be easy by now? 4 minutes jogging. 4 minutes walking. Done.

6:20 Quick stretch and towel off. I leave the gym and, for the first time this week, walk outdoors into cool air instead of muggy, sticky, humid air. I'm happy driving home.

6:50 I've showered and dried my hair and had a glass of chocolate milk. Jump into bed for a quick nap. Set the alarm for 7:20.

7:20 I'm awake but feeling good. I pray about the day's events and daydream a bit and then out of bed at 7:30.

7:30 Excited that it's Friday so I can finally wear my new jean capris. Pack a delicious salad for lunch and get breakfast together.

7:40 Curl my hair and pick out my homemade necklace: the one I made out of bottlecaps. I smile because I know the students love this one. Make the bed and wonder if I'd ever miss Travis' disgusting pillow if it were gone from this earth.

7:55 Out the door and ready for school.

So, how was your morning?

Something's wrong here...

(In Wal-Mart, after Travis thought it would be a good idea for me to go WITH him shopping today.)

Travis: Okay, it says here on the list that you need tampons and cotton rounds. Do you want to go get them?

Me: Sure... where are they?

It's pretty bad when your husband has to inspect the box of feminine products that YOU picked out to make sure they're the ones that you use every month. I think I need to go shopping with him a little more often...

Headgear is back!

As I type this, there is actually a kid in the lab wearing headgear. I have called him Metalmouth, laughed and pointed resisted the urge to make fun of him, and have already mentally congratulated myself on the progress of my maturity in that area. Man, I wish I had my camera.

Alrighty, back to work.

Frosty Falcor Owen

I miss my dog. He has been gone since August 14 and I miss him so much it's still really hard to think about him without choking up. I had no idea when we got him that he would mean so much to me after just one short year. Here are just a few things I miss about him. Some are kind of strange but if you've had a dog, you probably understand!

--He, like lots of dogs, was SO excited to greet you when you got home. Unlike most dogs, when Frosty got excited, his lips curled up and he bared his teeth. That kind of mug on a giant dog would seem pretty scary to a stranger, but when you factor in the fact that he was also squeaking, sneezing and wagging his tail, he seemed pretty harmless and funny-looking. I miss hearing his squeaks and sneezes when a friend is at the door.

--Every time a doorbell rang, at our house or on TV, Frosty went nuts. He would start barking, run upstairs and then pace from the window to the door, trying to figure out who he was supposed to guard us against. He had different kind of barks and the "doorbell bark" was just half-hearted for him, but scary enough that no stranger with half a mind would ever think about coming into our house! I heard a doorbell tonight on a TV show and Travis and I both almost lost it.

--I loved watching him waiting in the morning to go out with Travis for a walk. Travis would be getting ready in our room or the bathroom and Frosty would just be laying on the floor in the hallway waiting. Whenever Travis said, "Okay Buddy, let's go." the dog literally hopped down the hallway backward, to make sure that Travis was following behind. I haven't been able to walk to the square since he's been gone because it doesn't seem right to be walking alone.

--I liked it that he was so big that he could gaze out our living room windows at the goings-on of our town. Whenever he saw his friend Tabby, he would start squeaking, usually loud enough that Beth, Tabby's owner, could hear him and would stop in to let them see each other. When the curtains were drawn, it was so cute to watch him part them with his giant snout so that he could get a peek outside. Every morning when I would leave for school, Travis and Frosty would be looking out the window, waving to me (well, Travis would wave anyway!). I was sitting on the couch today looking out the window, and I saw all kinds of slobbery Frosty-snout marks on the window. Needless to say, I didn't rush to grab the window cleaner.

--Every time I would pick up his toys and put them in the basket, that was the time he would decide that he just HAD to play with those particular toys. He would be taking his Kong and bones and rope out as fast as I could put them back in. He was just like a child that way.

--I loved how Frosty thought he was so sneaky. You could tell he was trying to surprise you if his eyes were covered. He would duck his head behind something and then jump out when you came by. What a doofus! He figured that if he couldn't see you, you couldn't see him. He was also CRAZY when he got excited. The living room or the basement was not big enough for him when he was happy about something. He would run laps and slip and slide all over the floor, he would grab the nearest toy and shake it to pieces. He would run full-speed right into you and knock you over if you weren't paying attention. We would take turns chasing each other through the living room and kitchen and down the hallway. He would allow you to chase him for a few laps and then he would "hide" and wait for you to come around the corner and then jump at you. Then you would have to turn around and let him chase you. I never enjoyed exercise more!

--I loved watching Travis and Frosty together. They were best friends. I know that Travis loved having Frosty all to himself this summer when I was in Canada. I bet Frosty felt the same way. Just the boys at home. I think there is a different kind of bond between a man and his dog that no female can attain. I was very close with Frosty and I think I probably played fetch with him and wrestled with him more than Travis. We would play rough and roll around on the ground and he would jump on me when I was laying on the floor, but I think he was more content to be laying next to Travis, watching TV, perfectly calm. Travis and I both told Frosty all our secrets and I'm sure Frosty went to his grave with a few tidbits of knowledge that Travis and I will never get around to telling each other. I'm sure Travis feels weird sitting in his chair, not petting Frosty. It doesn't sound right, or feel right or smell right, or even look right at our house anymore. My husband is different now without Frosty. He lost his best friend.

--I love that Frosty let you hug him. He would just stand there while you wrapped your arms around his neck and held on. He was so great to hug because he had such a giant, majestic head. I always felt that it must be similar to the way it would feel to hug Aslan, the great lion in C. S. Lewis' Chronicles of Narnia series.

--Not only did Frosty let you hug him, he LOVED to be hugged--by men, women and children--but especially children! Whenever we would walk by the square on a beautiful day, there would be a sea of children running to us, arms open wide, with eruptions of "FFFRRRROOOOOSSSSTTTYYYY!" echoing throughout the square. EVERYONE knew him in town. Everyone. All the kids loved him and he definitely loved kids the best. I think that smelly, dirty, sweaty kids playing in the park must have smelled awesome to Frosty. Party bonus if said children had sticky, crumby faces or fingers. Those kids would get a very special Frosty lick which was saved for only those occasions. Frosty didn't just lick willy-nilly. He licked with purpose. I never could believe that even the smallest of children weren't scared of Frosty. They ran right up to him, let him sniff their faces, absorb a lick if it was necessary, and then they would either throw their arms around him or stroke his thick, thick fur. I never liked the name Frosty much, but the kids loved it, and it was easy for them to remember so I guess it worked out okay.

--I loved how Frosty was pretty useless after about 9:00 at night. I never noticed a dog's facial expressions until I had him. Frosty definitely exhibited "tired-eyes" and would just look at us like we were crazy for not going to bed when he thought it was necessary. He definitely liked his sleep.

--Speaking of sleep, he was not the most fun to sleep next to. He dream barked, and twitched and kicked a lot. Twitches and little kicks on a normal size dog are one thing, but when you are next to a dog that weighs as much as an adult, and there are two GIANT paws pushing on the side of your head and two other even GIANT-ER paws kicking your hip (or unmentionables, sorry Travis) like it was a punching bag, one doesn't have a restful night of sleep. Now, I must say, Frosty NEVER jumped on furniture and would only get on the bed if invited. He was wonderfully respectful of our space. These observations came from nights where we would let Frosty on our bed or from nights that we were camping and Frosty decided that the best place for him in our tiny tent was right smack in between us.

--Sleeping with him during the night wasn't a lot of fun, but Frosty LOVED to snuggle! One day I had come home from work sick, drug out the air mattress and parked myself in front of the TV. I decided to take some NyQuil to help with my head cold and to hopefully sleep it off. I awoke, after about 2 hours, to find a giant white furry arm thrown over me and as I rolled over, I observed that my dog had his head on my pillow and was under the covers with me. We were, indeed, spooning. Judging by how incredibly warm it was and how disgustingly drooly my pillow was, I would say we had been spooning most of those 2 hours.

--Frosty loved snow. He turned into a different dog during the snowy winter months. We would have to take a toy along on every walk because the dog would get so crazy that he would start chewing on his leash or on our hands. We spent more time outside with Frosty in the winter months than any other time. We would turn him loose in the park or by the ball fields (no one else was crazy enough to be outside, so we didn't have to worry about him bothering other people) and he would take off like a clumsy jackrabbit. He would run full throttle, dive into the snow, roll all around, jump up and do it again. He loved laying in the snow after a good play time. He was always a good sport about being wiped dry with towels when we got back home, too. He did NOT enjoy being dried with the hair dryer but he endured that a few times as well.

--Frosty could count to 3! He always lapped up his water in groups of 3. Lap, lap, lap. Lap, lap, lap. Lap, lap, lap. He would get so excited to receive water in his bowl from the pitcher in the fridge. I think he thought we was getting a special human treat, but it was just extra-cold tap water!

Well, these are random thoughts of mine. I just wanted to write a few of them down. I feel better just sharing them here in blogosphere. I'm sure there will be many more thoughts to come. We miss you so much, Frosty!!