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The Walking Dead-ish

I love a good old-fashioned ghost story: stuff like The Sixth Sense, Woman in Black and Paranormal Activity can really get my adrenaline pumping and then I start hollering stuff like, "Oh, you do NOT want to go in there" and "Turn around, turn around, they are RIGHT BEHIND YOU, dammit"!

Which is probably why it is a pretty good idea that I wait until these type of movies are released on DVD.

I just get myself too involved in the storyline and, more often than not, would end up…you know…more dead-ish than not.

Which is why I am not a BIG fan of zombie movies: unless we're talking The Walking Dead and, well, "Turn around, turn around, they are RIGHT BEHIND YOU, dammit"!

Alright, so maybe there are worse things to worry about than a Zombie Apocalypse and…YES!…real life is A LOT more scary (especially, if you have teens) unless we're talking The Walking Dead.

"Turn around, turn around, they are RIGHT BEHIND YOU, dammit!"

My husband, Garth and I watched the premiere of Season 3 last night and even my 13 year-old son was all, like, CHILL OUT MOM!

"Oh, you do NOT want to go in there!"

The really, REALLY scary thing about The Walking Dead — besides the fact that I would have totally made the same mistake, gone in through THAT door and…BAM!…instant zombie smorgasbord — is the realization that I could very easily be mistaken as…you know…being one of them:

Glazed-over, zombie-like eyes — could be just a matter of excessive protein build-up or chronic progressive conjunctivitis, you're welcome.

Loss of coherent speech — I live with 3 teens, enough said.

Rate of physical decomposition has increased — you just wait until YOU turn 40-something, you little jerk.

Walk with a slow, erratic and in an unusually lumbering way — dumbass sciatica, stupid herniated discs.

Always hungry — friggin' ravenous even, stupid mid-life metabolism.

Tendency to stumble over obstacles and through solid walls — which is a rather frequent and normal occurrence, when you're severely near-sided and have misplaced your glasses, again?!?

Moral of the Story: don't be hating on us zombies and, if you think THAT'S scary, you really should see my teens, first thing on a Monday morning.

"Turn around, turn around, they are RIGHT BEHIND YOU, dammit"!

TURNING!!! WALL!!! SLAM!!! ZOMBIE SMORGASBORD!!!

"Ughmath thughca, oohpih woonthid iiiiiith!"

Translation: dumbass sciatica, stupid herniated discs.

© 2003 – 2012 This Full House

October 15, 2012
Let’s Get Political, Or Not Just Yet

I did not watch the Biden/Ryan debate, last night. Not for the lack of wanting, just didn't think about it until it was very nearly over. I did, however, catch the last few minutes of the political debates streaming through Twitter and Facebook.

I should have stayed off Twitter and Facebook.

To tell you the truth, I do not know enough about politics to justify my posting about politics. In fact, helping my 11 year-old study for her Civics test made me realize just how little I understand how our government is run — yes, that is indeed very unfortunate.

Oh, I have my opinions and possibly even some of which align very closely with yours (just maybe) and yet the issues that concern me the most (which, quite frankly, probably involve the welfare of my family) may not hold any interest for you…whatsoever…and that is to be expected.

Then, it got ugly. Not that I was surprised at the lack of civility and I do so admire the passion of political pundits (mostly) but there was this one tweet:

"To those of you who are still undecided, you haven't been paying attention!"

Oh, I know, and no it's not the worst anyone could say (especially, to me) and if you are ready to walk into that voting booth…right now…and make your choice…without a single regret or worry…then I am very, very happy for (and proud of) you.

All I ask in return is for you to respect the fact that some of us are just not there yet.

It's not a matter of choosing chocolate over vanilla (I pick strawberry!) or simply picking one team over another (go Giants!) making assumptions about knowing EXACTLY what is in people's minds or hearts, judged solely by the choices they haven't even made (yet) is just plain ignorant.

Then I saw the headline of some "odd political psa" featuring Sean Penn and Kid Rock and, well, check it out:

Warning: may not be suitable viewing for everyone, has expletives.

Okay, yeah it's a little creepy, sort of corny and, pfffttt, I can certainly relate with that. Still, the message is a very simple one and, well, I get it.

Thank you very much for your kind consideration and so ends my pundit blogging career (you're welcome!) remember to vote for strawberry.

© 2003 – 2012 This Full House

October 12, 2012
Learning From Our Mistakes-101

Learning to walk his hard, learning to fall is even harder.

Please feel free to visit with me over at my Gone Shopping blog and read more about: why I can't help but feel that life would be a little easier if Learning From Our Mistakes-101 were a requirement, rather than an elective…for parents, too…when you have time, of course.

© 2003 – 2012 This Full House

October 11, 2012
Growing Old, It’s For the Birds
The kids and I took a ride to visit my folks on Sunday — Holly was scheduled to work this weekend and my husband Garth (not his real name) stayed behind to try and get some work done here at home — and, as soon as we walked into the kitchen, my mom began to show me some of the new tricks she learned during rehab:
- She can reach her arm behind her back: which, only a few short weeks ago, the pain of attempting to do so would have caused her to pass out (me too)
- She can cross both her arms in front of her: see previous bullet
- Oh, and watch this: she grabbed her elbow and gestured in an "Up yours!" sort of way, Jersey style
Mom stood there grinning like a school girl, after we whooped and wowed, as if she just finished showing off some super cool new cheer-leading routine and I half expected the woman to drop down into a split.

"Wow, I am SO proud of you!"

Aaaaaand, then it happened.

Me: What is up with ALL the birds?

It was a weird sort of Freaky Friday moment, which started out innocently enough: I looked out the window and, I swear to you, there had to be about two dozen birds hanging out, in and around the bird feeders.

Mom: I know your father just filled up the feeders, this morning.

What IS it with senior citizens AND birds?

Me: But it's already half-empty!

Honestly, my in-laws are the same way. They'll eat a bowl of crackers soaked in warm milk…[blech!]…for dinner, but don't think twice about dropping some major bucks on a 50 lb. sack of gourmet bird food, they can barely lift.

Me: You know, those dumb birds don't know how good they have it.

Aaaaand, that's when my father's bionic hearing kicked in.

Me: I mean, they eat WAY better than you guys do.

I was able to crack that last little ray of sunshine off before my dad finally limped his way into the kitchen.

Dad: Yeah, but they make your mother happy and I would pay anything for that.

Aaaaaand, I had just been served up a lovely peace of humble pie (accented heavily with rolling r's and w's that sound more like v's) for dessert and, well, when did our lives go so crrrrrrriz-crrrrrrroz epple-zauze, eny-vays?!?

Mom: I think maybe she's right.

Who? Me? Really? I looked around to make sure no one else was standing in the kitchen, just in case.

Mom: Maybe it's time the birds went on a little diet.

So, my parents decided it would be okay to feed them every OTHER day and, well, those dumb birds really don't know how good they have it.

Dad: Oh, and we picked up a strawberry short cake for the kids too.

Notice how he said "for the kids" which is perfectly fine with me and not because I don't like strawberry short cake — it's my favorite.

Me: Sounds awesome, thanks!

I was already sort of full of, you know, humble pie.

Me: I'll make the coffee.

[one beat, two beats]

Mom and Dad: NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

Heh…yeah, right…some things, however, NEVER change…including my inability to make a decent pot of coffee…damnit.

Hope: I'll do it!

My ll year-old, on the other hand, makes an AWESOME pot of coffee and, well, good thing too.

Hope: Dad taught me how.

Because my husband, Garth (NHRN) is going to have his hands full…I mean, he IS married to me…and I really don't care for the taste OR even the thought of warm milk…[blech!]…no matter WHAT my kids say.

© 2003 – 2012 This Full House
October 9, 2012
Don’t Worry, Be Dread-y and Perish the Thought While We’re At It!
When it comes to parenting (because, really, raising 3 teens and 1 tween, there really isn't much else going on up in here…dammit!) my husband, Garth (not his real name) and I have reached an understanding.

Aaaaaaaand, if any of my kids are reading this (because, really, nothing is sacred…DAMMIT!) this is where you guys need to click away…m'kay?

[blows bangs out of eyes]

Okay, are they gone? Good.

It's simple, really. Which is a good thing, because I'm not very good with un-simple (yes, it's a word) because…SQUIRREL!!!

[BAM!]

Aaaaaaaand, that should take care of any trolls, clicking around the internets looking for some action…NOPE, NOTHING CONTROVERSIAL GOING NO HERE.

[SLAM!]

We'll just wait a few more seconds. Just. To. Be. Sure. Oooooo-kaaaaaay, ready?

[rolls up sleeves, clears throat]

It's sort of like a good cop/bad cop thing: he tries (really, really hard, btw) not to go all BAT GUANO about the little things (like, the rechargeable batteries are NOT in the rechargeable battery thingy…true story, just a couple of days ago…and OMG!) while I pretend NOT TO FLIP THE FRIG-OUT when stuff goes REAL BAD.

Day before yesterday (I think) stuff got REAL BAD.

"You okay?"

Poor guy, here he was expecting me to FLIP THE FRIG-OUT, had the puke bucket ready and everything.

"I'm fine."

The REAL BAD stuff I'm speaking of isn't happening directly to me…[knocking on wood until knuckles bleed]…but to two people I love very much…who are being very, very brave about it, btw…and would most likely forgive me for FLIPPING THE FRIG-OUT…for them…because, well, it's how I roll.

Instead, something pretty good happened. We laughed. Okay, fine, I laugh-snorted.

Point being, as bad as this particular piece of news was (trust me, it was real guano-y) I listened to these two very brave people cracking jokes, making me laugh-snort and trying their darnedest to convince ME that it was okay?

Yeah, reality check…multiple pieces of emotional baggage…please.

It made me realize that the stuff that Garth (NHRN) and I have been going through, for the last few months, is no where even in the vicinity of being REAL BAD!

Besides, if you worrying about something bad happening (and I realize that everyone has stuff, with many different and very, very complicated levels of bad) chances are, it will happen.

Karma has a sick sense of humor, like that…[whispering…the bastard]…so, why don't we all decide to dread something that we really, really want instead, like:
- Gosh, but I hope Keeping Up With the Kardashians doesn't get canceled.
- Can you imagine going a whole year without a car repair…OMG!?!?!
- I don't think I can take another day of losing more weight.
- Or keeping a job.
- There goes the phone again, I really hope it's bad news.
- OH MAN! It would be absolutely AWFUL if somehow we managed to find a way to finally take the kids to Disney.
- Geez, I really hope something REALLY BAD happens today.
For starters, anyways. Okay, your turn…oh, and…HOLY GUANO, PERISH THE THOUGHT!!!…you know, just in case.

© 2003 – 2012 This Full House
October 5, 2012
Yet ANOTHER reason why no one would ever mistake me for a Food Network Star

My kids will tell you that I'm a pretty good cook — pretty much because we really haven't been to many fancy-schmancy restaurants…as a family…like, as in all together…sitting at the same table…at the same time.

So, they just don't know any better…YET!

Until their grandmother got them hooked on cooking shows. Okay, I lied.

"Hi, my name is Liz and I am hooked on cooking shows."

I grew up watching masters like Julia Child (gosh, but I miss her!) and The Galloping Gourmet (what a whack-job HE was, eh?) and even today pretend I have my very own cooking show.

Oh, come ON…like you never pretended you had your very own cooking show…EVER…right?!?

[sound of crickets chirping]

Aaaaaanyway, where was I going with this?

[blows bangs out of eyes, stares at toaster]

So, yeah, I know my way around a kitchen (sort of) and I've been preparing Sunday dinners since I was in single digits and…YES!…contrary to what my children would have you believe…we had electricity AND running water, back in those days, too.

"You and Mama should open a restaurant!"

All economic and logistic (mostly economic) arguments aside, my youngest has watched way too much Restaurant Impossible.

[taking a moment to reflect on those guns that Anthony Irvine calls arms…sigh]

Besides, I love cooking for my family.

"What, you don't like tonight's dinner?"

Appeasing the picky palates of strangers, not so much.

"There's some peanut butter in the cabinet…GO FOR IT!"

Besides, I'm really, really, really, awesomely-awesome at cooking on the
fly and, well, wouldn't THAT make a great cooking show title?!?

So, this is what it would look like, if I were the host:

I know, I know. Just having a little fun wit-it, but I actually am planning on cooking up some Porkolt tonight — once the meat defrosts and the bra comes off, of course!

Post-video notes: liking the eye-baggage…eh?…had a wicked sinus headache last night and I just noticed nobody bothered to replace the empty paper towel-holder thingy…again…DAMMIT!

© 2003 – 2012 This Full House

October 3, 2012
Working from home is not as easy as you may think
The great thing about being self-employed: hiring myself out as a freelancer gives me the opportunity to work on several projects, while being available to my family (sometimes ALL at once) and I am not committed to any one particular employer, long-term.

The not so great thing about being self-employed: I am not committed to any one particular employer, long-term.

This week, I'm starting a new project that I am hoping will lead me closer to my goal for 2013: long-term employment.

Yeah, I'm totally banking on the Aztecs being wrong…DAMMIT!

I'm looking at 2 kids in college by 2014, with 2 more out of high school before this decade is over and, well, enough said.

Either way, as a self-employed-work-at-home type for the last 6 years, I've accustomed myself to working with and/or around other people's schedules.

That said, my hours are about to increase substantially (YES, that is a REAL good thing!) so I decided to do a test run of a normal-ish work day:
- Get up at 6:00 a.m.: not a problem, since my bladder has been up for at least 2 hrs already.
- Showered by 7 a.m.: depending on which kid "forgot" to take their shower the night before.
- Get online by 8 a.m.: depending on which kid "missed" the bus (see previous bullet)!
- Get through email by 9 a.m.: hahahahahahahaha (stupid Facebook)!
- Start logging hours by 10 a.m.: I am officially on the clock, people!
Except, I cleaned the house on Friday (as a last hurrah, if you will) and then decided to get in a quick session of yoga — considering the fact that I'll be sitting a lot more (I have a wicked writer's callus, in my midsection) not to mention, I actually also managed to find my one and only yoga DVD.

"Soften your mind…"

Check.

"Soften your face…"

Snort. That's what SHE said.

"OWWWW!!!!"

Aaaaaaand, I hurt my already borked-up back transitioning between child's pose and downward-facing dog (I think) go figure.

There I go again, hurting myself, trying to help myself.

Moral of the Story: Don't try this at home, after all, I am a professional dork!

Perhaps I should have spent the rest of my work day in child's pose, but then I would have fallen asleep and, well, dumbass yoga.

[sound of crickets chirping]

If anyone needs me, I'll be upstairs nursing my already borked-up back and smell-testing a clean pair of pajamas for tomorrow, just in case.

Thank goodness video-type conference calls are from the neck up, right?!?

© 2003 – 2013 This Full House
September 30, 2012
WoW, At Our House, We Take Electronic Entertainment Very Seriously

My brother and sister-in-law are big-time World of Warcraft fans and recently gifted my 13 year-old with 6 months of game time. Considering my son has been BEHHHHHHHHHHHH-ging us for a subscription (it's free to play up to level 20 or something, which is like 5 minutes to a 13 year-old) inviting him into their guild effectively up-ped my brother's and sister-in-law's wow-factor by a hefty:

"WOW, you guys are SOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, AWWWWWWWWWWWESOME!"

Yeah, as if they needed any help in THAT department.

Aaaaaaanyway, my son has been hinting at an expansion pack for WoW, for a couple of weeks now, and mentioned it again on the way home from the pediatrician's on Tuesday.

"I know, Mists of Pandaria, it was released today."

What?!? I read Game Informer.

"You could add it to your Christmas or birthday list."

Aaaaaaand, my coolness factor dropped by an unsurprising: "UGH! You ALWAYS say that!" He's got about half the money saved from his grass-cutting earnings (we got a lot of grass, don't judge) but, I would not loan him the other half, yeah I'm mean like that.

Then the inevitable happened.

"What if I do extra chores around the house?"

Oh, I know that there are folks who feel you shouldn't pay your kids to do chores around the house and, in theory, I totally agree.

I also believe selective hearing is a terrible thing and may be…no, wait…MOST DEFINITELY IS…my undoing.

"Go…up…wet…from…the floor!"

[blank stare]

"I said…pick…the…towels…off!"

[sound of crickets chirping]

Long story, short (you're welcome!) I'm tired (not to mention, sick of stepping over wet towels) so I agreed to loan him the other half of the cost (stupid expansion packs) in exchange for housecleaning services and suggested that perhaps it would be a good idea if we put something in writing.

"I'll draw up a contract as soon as we get home!"

Aaaaaaand, he did:

[click for a better view]

Morale of the Story: What is it with him and leaving wet towels on the floor?!?

WOW! I was thinking along the lines of 2 weeks. Perhaps I should have my 13yo negogiate ALL of my contracts. For a small fee, of course. Now, if he would just put AS MUCH effort into pre-algebra, we'd probably have his college tuition paid for by now, right?!?

Stupid expansion packs, dumbass World of Warcraft.

© 2003 – 2013 This Full House

September 28, 2012
Nearly Wordless Wednesday: Just Me and My Shadows

Gathering my thoughts and enjoying the nothingness of a day off from school, before the kids wake up I mean.

Aaaaaaand, yet another quiet moment is interrupted by a good morning snuggle and, well, when did my shadow's legs get so gosh-darned long?!? I have NO words.

Other folks going wordless today: Wordless Wednesday.

© 2003 – 2012 This Full House

September 26, 2012
Who Knew, Doofus Is a Designer Dawg?

I don't know what it is, exactly, but it happens to me every time the seasons change. I get all fired-up about redecorating, reorganizing, renovating and re-re-ing the h-e-double hockey sticks out of This Full House of mismatched scks and crunchy floors.

For years I blamed HGTV for fueling my DIY and design envy. Not to mention, my having a slight girl-crush on Candice Olson and Amy Matthews.

Then Pinterest came along and…well…as if I needed yet ANOTHER reason to feel inadequate or delusional in believing renovating a house…for the last 18 years…is perfectly normal…not to mention, using pretend words like re-re-ing.

On the other hand: my kids bring their friends over who are all, like, "Ohhhhh, your house is sooooooooo cozy!" and…YES!…I allow those kids sleepover…A LOT!

Aaaaanyway, I tend to focus on creating cozy little gathering-type areas (unavoidable, seeing as we live in a small house) like our faux fireplace.

It's actually our chimney. The previous owners were using a wood-burning stove, but the town made them remove it before selling the house and, well, getting it back to a real functioning fireplace…yeah…it's on my list.

This weekend, however, I replanted some perennials and wanted to reuse this beautiful pot (see picture above, also: re-re-ing) to warm up our entryway by using these awesome lit branches I found at Christmas Tree Shop.

"Is it supposed to go like that?"

Even my 11 year-old was all, like, really? Is THAT all you got?

Then I noticed Doofus-Dawg bought something in from the yard as well and I just vacuumed that carpet…HEY!…wait a minute…[cue light bulb]…AH-HAH!

I went outside, raided the kindling from our outdoor fireplace and even thought to take advantage of finally gathering up a couple of stray branches from around the yard, knocking yet ANOTHER item off of my list (don't be jealous) but, it still didn't look right.

Hope suggested we add some of the river rocks I had sitting on the driveway for the last few months (okay, more like a year: line perimeter of pool with rocks, to make it easier to cut the grass, it's on the list) to help hold the branches up straight and, well, seems I am not smarter than a 6th grader…either.

Aaaaaand, even Doofus-Dawg got into the act by helping me trim the branches back a bit…NO!… not that…ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZAP!!!!…heh, just kidding.

Now the entryway has "Welcome, sit down and take the load off!" written all over it, right?!? RIGHT?!? Riiiiiiiight.

[sound of crickets, chirping]

Yeah, whatever, Candice. Bite me, Amy.

© 2003 – 2013 This Full House

September 24, 2012