Conversations With My Favorite Person

Eureka!
Eureka!

Triple Eureka!

I just had a burst of light moment!  It was awesome!  And grapes were involved!

Minding my own business, (lets not kid ourselves here. Just who's business am I going to be a minding??) whilst I was washing a blob of grapes for myself.  (Question:  What is the blob of grapes really called?  Is it cluster?  Is it group?  Is it assortment? )  While washing grapes, I popped one into my mouth and thought:

 "Man, the grapes are REALLY good this summer!!" 

 (Question:  Why do we always say Man when starting a sentence?  Or Boy?  Where are the girls in this expression?  You NEVER hear Girl, or Girlie, or Lady, (Question:  What happened to Jerry Lewis?  Dead or Alive?)  or Woman or Female.  Not even a HeShe.  Just ONCE I'd like to think....

"People-with-ladyparts, the grapes are REALLY good this summer!!"

.....instead of thinking about men all the time.  Ah.  I'm baiting you for a comment, can you feel it?  Can you taste it? Are you all wrapped up in a sparkly bow with it??

Anyway, right after I thought about the grapes being REALLY good this summer, I had this urge to blog about it.  (Question:   "Do you think I might appear a tad geeky for revealing this?"  Question was retorical.  Do not answer, because I don't give a hootie)  

And then my NEXT thought was:

 "Blog about grapes being good?  Are you insane?"

 to which I answered, 

"Well that would be a VERY thin blog Mommacita...there is not NEARLY enough material there."

to which I replied quite harshly:

"That's not a blog you moron, that's a FACEBOOK post."

which stopped me dead in my tracks (Question:  Do you think I'm too harsh with the ones I love?? Did I deserve a more gentle approach, such as "That's not a blog you moron, that's a FACEBOOK post and you look pretty?".)  

Can it be true that the reason I was stopped dead in my tracks is because the subject of Grapes being good is just a facebook post?  A FACEBOOK POST?  

Hmmm

Here's my ah ha moment:  (Question:  Oprah Winfrey....Yes or No? )

I think this blog is nothing more than crap you would read about on facebook.  Pardon my french.  I could do my Question bit and ask you why french and not greek or spanish but I'm on to something here.....

Along with the "I'm cranky today" or the "feeling spiffy" the Mommacita facebook posts very well could have been:

"I went to a funeral today"

"Here are some pictures of cats."
.

"texting olympians is the bomb."

"People who put clothes on their animals need to cover their animal's parts that are usually covered by a swim suit."

"I have dirty little secrets and now YOU get to JUDGE me in the privacy of your own home."

"My son robbed me of graduation and I cursed him and died, (me not him)
.
or
.

"My latest favorite thing is GRAPES!!  Hooray for GRAPES!!"

Now that I think of it, this blog could probably be taken care of on twitter, now that I am hip and squared up with the hashtag situation:

#ifyouseemeinthegrocerystoreandyou'rewearingmickeymousepantsIwillprobablytweetaboutit

I think you get the message.

Blogging, an activity that I have done for more than a couple of years now. (Question:  How much is a couple?  Is it two, more than two?  Because if you add all of the blogs up, the answer might add up to be under one year's worth of blogs, and, wow.    I guess I've just faced this actual fact:   Maybe I exaggerate on this thing??? ) and in that one maybe two years I might have been wasting time?  energy?  exposure on the internet?

So what you're telling me is that this blogging activity could have been an activity that could easily have been condensed down into, say, maybe, 10 minutes total, start to finish?  I could of been concise both with time AND words?

I'm not sure what personality discrepancy I might possess that compels me to go on and on and on about a bunch of grapes, but I just did it and in conclusion I should probably go and sit alone in a closet and eat my hair and never be allowed a rational thought again let alone exposure to a keyboard.  

Those grapes were really good.

#pleasecluemein

Could someone please explain to me what the dickens hashtags are?  Because I have no idea.

Ok.  I have a few ideas.

Like, I think they might have something to do with twittering, or twouting, but I'm not really sure what.  I gleaned this information from Jimmy Falon.  But he didn't explain it, he just acted like I am supposed to know what they are.  I have no clue what they are.  Or how they work.  Or their purpose.  Maybe that's the gig...maybe they don't have a purpose.

I wonder if they have something to do with instagram, and again, I'm not really sure what.  I just know that when people have a photo on facebook, then there are a bunch of hashtags that describe the photo.  Like:  #cuteasabutton    for a picture of their baby wearing a headpiece with buttons and feathers exploding on it.  Is a hashtag a way to identify a photo, like giving a jpeg file a name?  But if that were the case, then why are there so MANY hashtags given to the baby photo with buttons/feathers?  #mylil'featherdancer  #daddyslittlecuteasabutton  #grandmathinksimprecious    And why are the hashtags so LONG sometimes?  I have to really study them and I don't mind saying that I find it cumbersome.

Which leads me to the next wonder.  I wonder if hashtags are really just a way to describe whatever you need to describe at the moment.  Like when Mariah Carrey (and if you have read this freaky thing at all you will remember that Mariah Carrey is my MHCE.  Most Hated Celebrity Ever.)speaks in hashtags to describe a performance:   "Hashtag Amazing".  "Hashtag out of this Universe"  Her words not mine.

Which brings me to my next point which makes me feel like a shriveled up little grannie who knits with her glasses perched on her nose (#ithinkthatsmetheirtalkingabout).  I am slipping off the grid.  And its because I don't know what hashtags are.

My 40 year high school reunion is this summer and I'm not sure I can go because of this hashtag thing.

#allivedonesincethelastoneisknitandsew

#muffintop

#havenothadbotox

#notamillionaire

#saggingskininvariousplacesnottoberevealed

#twentymoretogo

#ihavejustmademyselfalldepressedandpitiful

#shoutoutifhashtagshaveruinedyourlifetoo


On a brighter note, I have discovered a new show on Netflix:  "White Collar".  I'm planning a Memorial Day Weekend Marathon.

#youwillloveit

Portlandia

A few Saturdays back I participated in the Rose City Yarn Crawl.  I wrote this blog right after.  I have put off cleaning up the writing and possibly uploading a pic or two for over a month.  Maybe the pressure of the weekly blog was good for me.  I am not looking for your input here. Let's just all admit it was good for me but we will agree not to go back to the weekly thing because I heart no pressure.

Anyway...

The Rose City Yarn Crawl is not an athletic event.  I would feel more accomplished if it was.  It is a bunch of various types of Northwest women moving very slowly (because they have to finger everything) from  yarn shop to yarn shop.  And this is how it goes:

Groups of said various types of women (and a man or two in a skirt) shuffle in and out of said yarn shops and pick up yarn and cuddle it in the crooks of their necks and coo to it.  Occasionally a squeal is heard when someone finds a particularly perfectly dyed batch of yarn or something soft and yummy that has no itch factor, or a pattern of something wonderful they've never seen before that is in their skill level. ( My skill level is not very high just in case you were wondering because I have just started knitting and I learned off of YouTube.  I have watched several Knitting With Judy's.)

 After the cuddling and the cooing and the squealing have run their course, the groups of various types of women (and the men in the skirts because after all we ARE in Portland where the dream of the 90's is alive,) find the end of the purchasing line.  Said line very nearly  ALWAYS runs through the entry way, the door, and spills out onto the sidewalk where there are even more men in skirts.  Not that there's anything thing wrong with that. 

For those of you who have never been to a yarn crawl (....or is it spelled krawl?....I'm almost certain the universe would dictate it.....) these are the categories of the various types of women you might encounter:

1.  Women who are over 50 and may or may not need someone to flank them on either side while they walk to the store from their parking spot because there are gigantic tree roots under the sidewalks in the Alberta District that might cause a plummeting of someone over 50 that wears Danskos.  Some people are very caring. 

2.  Women who are under 50.  Way under.  Their funky monkey skirts swish back and forth as they walk effortlessly along as if there is a way cool sound track rolling in the background.    One woman had an awesome striped swishy earthy skirt that sadly I would be too old for.  If only I were that artsy earthy Eugeney Grandma and I weighed in the lower hundreds and people thought my daughter and I were sisters with her being the older one.

sigh. 

3.  Women who look like they shop at Macys.

4.  Women who look like they shop out of Grandma's closet who once shopped at Macy's about a hundred fifty years ago.

5.  Women who wear their hair very very short.  With color vibrant and varied in nature. Bear in mind that asymmetry is a must.

6.  Women who wear their hair very very permed.  With hardly any color at all.

7.  Women who wear their hair just right because they all go to the same hairdresser.

8.  Women who bathe regularly.  I'm talking every day when they get up in the morning before they go to anything such as a Yarn Crawl or Krawl in the Rose City. 

9.  Women (and the dudes in the skirts) who have defied their mothers and replace a daily grooming schedule with a daily never groom schedule.  . Their hair stinks I might add, because my nose is just about the height of every ones scalp and I noticed, yes I did.  I may or may not have made a face. 

While the diversity of said various types of women was apparent, especially on the southeast side of the river, I found it quite heartening that I shared a love for fiber, color, and the ways we can fuse them together with people who weren't my age, my shoe size, my religion, my life experience, my income bracket or my grooming schedule. Weird.  So so Weird.

I like knowing I did my part on that sunny sunny Saturday to Keep Portland Weird.

In case you're wondering, you and I are the only two people I know who aren't weird.

 






And, as they say,  I'm a little worried about you.

Things That Could of Been but Kind of Are

I know.  I know.

I tried.

I failed.

I'd like to make a codicil to the handshake agreement that I made with my niece Annie.

Truth be told, I should of made it BEFORE I broke said agreement, but I'm trying to right my wrongs here so don't get in my way.

I'd like to add the following stipulation to our agreement: we don't have to blog every stinking week if there is absolutely NO material that anyone would appreciate. (a blog without a response is not a blog that works people)  But we DO have to blog REGULARLY.  We could quite possibly blog even MORE than once a week.  We could blog whenever, but, whenever has to be regular.  Treat blogging as you would treat bathing.   You want to do it regularly, not infrequent, not every minute either.  Remember Dry Skin at the same time you remember smelly hair. Both undesirable.  You aren't allowed to take blogging out of your life.  OR bathing.  I can't believe I needed to tell you that.  So here's the deal:  You can't take blogging out of your life even if you use up your given writing energies on a weekly email for church.  Or something such as that. 

Maybe I'm in a slump or something.

Exhale.

The following is a list of blog ideas that might have been but, were nixed in my own personal correlation meeting.  These subjects were considered, then flushed.  But now, because I'm trying to get back on the wagon, I  painstakingly suck the ideas back from the place that the flushing sends them to.  Virtual Retrieval if you will.

Idea #1.
Just a minute.  I'm drawing a blank here.

Reason:  Not enough Material.

Idea #2. 
  Yes.  A blog about change.  Like how my hair has gone from stick straight to naturally curly in a matter of months.  I'm sure I'm dying of something.   Tim always used to say that in times such as this and look what happened to him.  Anyway, 1980 called and they want their hairstyle back.  This blog would have included perm pictures.  Not of me.  Because I did not rock the mall bangs (girls in malls wore those sticky uppey bangs) with a side of perm.  Don't get me wrong.  I didn't say I never had a perm.  I said I didn't Rock them.  This idea was rejected because all I ever talk about in blogs is how I look and getting old.  Needed something fresh.  Something hap'nin.

Reason:  Too much vanity.

Idea #3.
 I'd get an idea, and then sit down to do it and it would vanish.  Like right now when I'm trying to remember the ideas and I had a good one and off it flew to be with Gracie the Cat in heaven.


Reason:  Too much use of the old lady theme. Or the heaven theme

Idea #4. 
A where are they now expo-say on people I have previously mocked on here.  But who wants to know more about anyone who wears mickey mouse pants to the grocery store or my inability to control my destiny?

Reason:  Too Shallow.


Idea #5
My friend Carol, or Barol, you choose, reminded me that I was behind in my blogging and suggested I go to Walmart.  Hmmm.  Good idea Carol or Barol!  But ha ha the joke is on me, because I went to Walmart about an hour ago and I didn't care enough to look around at what that kid was crying about.  I DID however have some unpleasantness in the parking lot (no spots) and walking into the store (pouring rain and some wind.  I WAS however protected by my Metropolitan Museum of Art Umbrella that gives me great joy every time I use it.  You TOO can have an umbrella such as this if you go to their website)

Reason #!  Too Whiny about rain. Which is just too easy.
Reason #2  Too Overdone.

Idea #6.
 An Addendum to the Mommacita Favorite Thing Series that includes my yummy yummy umbrella.  Its the black on black if you must try and be like me.  Which you totally can, I'm not like that at all.

Reason:  Too Narcissistic

Idea #7
An unfortunate gastro-intestinal experience, which by the way will NEVER be spoken of on this or any publication.

Reasons #1,2,3,4,5 Respectively
 Too Much Information
Too Gross
Too unreal
Too pitiful
Too much laughing at me personally

Idea #8.
An experience that happened with a grandchild that immediately following the experience I was forbidden (in no uncertain terms) to use for blog fodder.  My initial reaction was Gee,some people have no sense of humor.  But then Idea #7 happened to me and a piece of my sense of humor was carved off of my SOUL by the person in the universe who does that sort of thing and I've never been the same since.  But I get it now.

There are limits people.

Even if you laugh so hard you want to have your sides surgically removed and you plainly don't care if they take part of your sense of humor as well.

So Yeah.

Reason:  Too Exposing to the entire universe.


I look at this list collectively.

I gather in the data.

I am not sure of the purpose of this thing anymore.
Who am I?
Where do I come from?
Where am I going?

Yes.
You are correct sir.
This is definitely a slump.

Because they're not coming to any reunions.....

You might have to copy and paste, but trust me, it will be worth your while.  These kids are too perfect.  All 4 of them.  And please withhold your Arian nation cracks.  I already know they're blondies. 


http://danicanelsonphotography.com/2013/01/g-family-st-louis-family-photographer-2/ 

PS  I hope it's OK with Larsa and Dubers I put this on here....It was already online :)

What's My Deal?

Could the thing that is wrong with me quite possibly be that while everyone else is gathering their thoughts together and deciding how they can improve in 2013 I am posting a video about  a Siberian woman (with a very lovely makeup job and headpiece fit for a bride) who houses a billion stray cats which should never be confused with postage stamps and feeds them like chickens?  Which then leads me to a video about a guy who stuck over 2000 toothpicks in his musty beard?  Why does this kill me?  Why do I like to be killed?  Could that possibly be what my deal is?  That I like to be killed?

I mean really.

What's my deal? 

I wander through my simple life.  I observe.   Then I ponder.  Then I take the observations and twist them all around with pondering so I can kill myself.  Then I write it on here.  Then I check for comments.The formula is simple, people.  But the overtones are killer.  The wrong kind of killer.

I'm telling you right here, and right now, this is the oddest behavior I know.  I'm observing it right now and I'm killing myself  because I can't help but ask myself:  Is my observing and then pondering and then writing and then waiting, really another person's 1000's of stay cats or toothpicky beards?  Is that my deal?  Am I a circus freak and I don't know it?  Am I a circus freak to a circus freak?  Because, if you think about it, a circus freak has to have people of their own that they observe and ponder and write about that are odd enough to classify as their own personal circus freak despite the fact that they OWN the definition of circus freak.  And I really wanted to put an exclamation point on that  last sentence but I was afraid that I might seem too freaky for even a freak of a circus freak.

So Yeah.  I think THAT'S my deal. 

And I'm just going to have to live with it.

Because (and I am ashamed to admit this) if I set another goal to try and use my time wisely in 2013  I just might die but I won't be killed if you know what I mean.