And... boom!

Oh, Little Sophia. Poor little bug, her eyes are red and puffy, and her nose is leaking oozy snot. But this little pumpkin is smiling! I suppose now she thinks she has the upper hand, since I am allowing her to sit in my lap on the bed, staying up WAY past her bedtime of 8 o'clock. Normally, she is snoozin' not five minutes after I put her down, but tonight... tonight, she might be a little sick with a cold. Poor widdle bean.

And since she is way too enamored with the computer, I shall end this short post. (But it counts as a post!!!! Take that, NaBloPoMo!!!)

"When she blows up, she'll scatter 'cross the hills..."

Okay! November 5th... and we have a President Elect, Obama. Congrats to the American public for sanctioning and supporting that heinous institution, The Two Party System. Not saying I have a problem with Obama or McCain (not one, several... but that is beside the point), but when it comes down to choosing between two not-so-great choices, I think we may have a problem.

Why not check out Ron Paul or Ralph Nader on their stances concerning how the country should be run. We should try to move away from That Two Party System (where both sides are backed my major slimy corporations and shady conglomorates) and move toward a better way to run our country. Just because Obama (and McCain, sure, why not) had the most support (read: cash, money, moola, dinero, whichever bogus moniker you wish to bestow upon it), I ask why should we succumb to a farcical popularity contest.

I know, I know. 'Money doesn't buy happiness, but it is sure great to have some!'.

Well, hats of to Obama for winning, a dubious honor. I sure wouldn't want to suddenly find myself in the situation of fixing EVERY DAMN THING THAT IS WRONG WITH THIS COUNTRY. That is way too much of the world on your shoulders, Atlas. I do realize that with our Checks and Balances system, the President has about as much influence on what goes on in our country as a flea has on the giant dog it inhabits, but poor Mr. President. He has to deal with all those ignorant fools who believe the President can drastically CHANGE THINGS that are wrong... and so, a few years down the road, when America realizes nothing significant has been done to FIX ______ (insert gripe here), poor Mr. President will be, if not the greatest, at least most popular, Scapegoat in the world.

Yay for America. I bet the Fouding Father's are spining (and vomiting) in their graves.

Wait a moment! Before you start calling me down as a racist, this rant has nothing to do with color, race, sex, what-have-you. I am in no way racist. I love Everyone, and give respect to those who deserve it. So please, before you start thinking I am just saying this because *gasp* we finally have someone other than an old white dude as our Commander in Chief, please recant that thought. I feel sorry for all of our Presidents. Because, Atlas, the world is too large.

I do secretly hope Obama can turn things around, just to have proof that fairy-tales do come true.

"She's so far behind, she ain't got the brains to quit it"

This is National Blog Posting Month, or if you prefer to shorten it, NaBloPoMo. I am already behind! It is Election Day, and the polls are blazing up in a riotous geyser of human fire... I feel slightly disconnected; I am ashamed to admit that I... did... not... *cringe*... vote!

Before you start wailing over the loss of Democracy in this country because of people like moi, please, allow me to give an excuse that I hope can at least be tolerated if not accepted. I was going to send away for an absentee ballot, since we recently relocated rather swiftly to this great state of Utah and had not yet made it our official home. However... days are too short, and they fly by faster than cheetahs, or chicken hawks, or... well, you get what I'm trying to say. I realized last Tuesday that it was the day to have sent in my ballot... and I hadn't even sent away for one yet.

Anyway, please forgive my attemps at being cheeky; I am not a regular blogger, so challenging myself to this NaBloPoMo probably will be a disaster.

Tomorrow I shall endeavor to new catastrophic blogging heights!

Woooo Hooo!!! VOTE!!!!

Troublesome Pumpkin

I have a beautiful baby daughter, called Sophia. She was born on Leap Day of this year, that is, February 29, 2008. Such an auspicious day to come into the world. The delicate, intricate strains of music by harp-guitarist Andy McKee heralded her coming, at four-thirty on that Friday morning.

Sophia will be eight months old this week. Her first months have flown by on graceful, silent wings, and before I know it, she is doing things I feel I am not ready for her to be doing! Where did that tiny, helpless, floppy little grub hie off to? Now she is crawling at Mach three speed, showing intense inquisitiveness that only a baby, just now discovering The World, can show.

She has, in the last few months, picked up some strange and amusing habits. Sophia has learned to imitate a ferocious, growling monster, grumbling and snarling to get a laugh out of her audience. As she suckles, she hums pleasantly in rising and falling waves of monotone bliss, often subconsciously imitating me as I hum softly back to her. When she concentrates, her little eyebrows knit together in an adorable emulation of a scientist hard on the heels of discovery. As if her hands have a collective mind all their own, she cannot but touch and handle and feel everything within her grasp, exploring anything that comes into her awareness. She is inexorably studying her world, and with it comes understanding. You can see it in her eyes, and once she has something figured out, the pleasure shining brightly on her face is enough to make me fall head-over-heels in love with her over and over again.

In celebration of you, Sophia, my sweet little grub, a video to embarrass you in the years to come.

Love,
Mama

(click on the title of this post to view the video)

The Fear

They say that when you've got The Fear, you get things done. A fire is lit under your bum, and off you go like a rocket, trying your damned-est to achieve whatever it is you have set your sights on without falling into the proverbial Oblivion of Failure. I have been wallowing in the mud on the edge of the Oblivion of Failure recently, for no other reason than to play chicken with my inner... selves.

Well now I have The Fear. That archetypal Fire has been lit, and I am off and running. I have been scared for so long... scared of what? Well, just plain old scared, scared to put myself out there and go back to school, play music with my heart on my sleeve, scared of doing things the way I used to rock 'em. I am going to enter the Spring semester at the University and finally be on my way to a Bachelor of Animal Sciences with an Emphasis in Equine Science and Management. Ain't that a mouthful?!

AND (although we have been taught to NEVER start a sentence with and, I will break the rules today because I can) AND, I now promise and do solemnly swear to dandle my guitar on my knee and sing it to sleep every night for at least an hour.

Yeah, I'm getting back in the game and now I've got The Fear.

Screw it

So the subject of this blog has jumped from My Music to Sharing Good Music to Commenting on Farmer's Market Produce And Other Inane Subjects to My Personal Online Diary That I Deluded Myself Into Thinking No-one Reads. Thankfully I have yet to divulge critically embarassing information to the general Internet Public (however, I fear that circumstance will rear it's ugly head in the future) and I have decided I will write whatever comes to mind, just spread it willy-nilly across the proverbial wall that is the Internet.

Still, on the other hand, I will not fool myself with the number of people who do read this blog... likely that number falls below zero, a sad but factual fact. Factual Fact? Really? Can I be more uninspiring? I believe I can!

Recently, my darling spouse and I received a feral fluff up our nether regions and packed up our entire house and daughter, tossed it all (sans the daughter, who had the dubious honor of being strapped into a car seat) into the back of a sixteen-foot Budget rental truck and drove across the great continent of North America. A three day drive, not counting the nights. Which, by the way, started at one or two in the morning when we had exhausted our supply of energy drinks and grudgingly checked into a motel. I surmise that our unofficial motto for the trip was "Get there faster than the speed of sound, and please obliterate your sanity by stuffing yourselves into the ridiculously small confines of the Budget Truck Cab."

I think this is the appropriate moment to steal a popular Canadian interjection: Oy.

Now, what would make this move to Northern Utah better? Add one slightly stressed mommy (me), minus a husband (he is now working all the time!) and an apartment to live in (Inlaws house!!! Par-tay!!!) and what do you get? Full-on Depression with a capital D.

Of course, I might be able to alleviate the pain, I suppose. I know I should go for more walks outside in the neighborhood with little Sophie and her high-tech stroller. I should excersize, and I should try to eat better. I should study! Because studying and learning is supposed to make people feel like they are worth something in this life.

But, bottom line, I don't have the energy. For anything. I thought that the time in which I get used to being a mom and incorporating Sophia into my schedule would be over now. "Life used to be life-like".... and now it is just a series of endless, numbered days.

Welcome to the World, Sophia!!! It sucks!!! You will love it!!!

Dreams

I am recovering from a dream I had last night. In it, a dear friend of mine who I used to go skiing with in High school, hates me... and this overwhelming feeling present throughout that the hatred he carried for me ran so deep it perverted everything it touched. Interesting, how the mind twists things into unrecognizable situations.




ha, this blog has turned into an online journal. Well, since no one reads it anyway, might as well use it as such.