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sick of wordpress

because it’s not self-hosted and I don’t feel like shelling out money to host it, wordpress is a pain in the ass.  i’m moving back to blogger.  it’s restricting being here and i can’t stand it.  Here’s the new address, http://writtenjen.blogspot.com

There’s also a new subscribe option or if you have a google account you can follow it that way if you want.  I’ll be taking this one down within the week.  As for the other one, the three of you that stop by on a regular basis just bear with me until I get it looking like I want it. Thanks

-Jen

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teenager

He’s a pretty good kid.  This year he’s even one C away from the honor roll.  He’s funny and laid back, generally easy to talk to but I can’t help wondering with every sigh, every condescending remark or statement, anything that comes out of his mouth in an “I’m better than you” tone of voice….I wonder if that’s going to be the moment I lose him to being a full fledged teenager.  Or if that moment’s just a hiccup.  Just him testing his wings, figuring out what kind of man he’s going to be.  Or maybe he’s just in a bad mood.

Lord knows I have enough bad moods for three families.  But I’m mom.  I run on two settings.  Fine and pissed off.  There’s really not a lot of middle ground.  I’m stable at those settings, dependable.

He’s a teenager which by law states that he’s never stable at any one setting at any one given time of the day.

So will tonight’s mumbling and sighing and stomping be the end of the mostly peaceful coexistence with a teenage boy?  Will it be next week’s attitude?  Were the endless smart ass comments last week a sign of worse things to come?

Please let it just be a bad mood.

voicemails from teenagers

message received Wednesday, June 23, 2010 :

Jennifer should call Tyler back.  Because Tyler needs some Febreeze.

Because he just smelled his lacrosse bag and thinks he might die.  Yeah.  And his room is getting kind of stinky.

Okay.  Love you.  Bye.  Call me back.

boo.hoo.

http://www.dreamstime.com/wine-and-cheese-image647808

Having cheese with my whine (actually, I did – for dinner I had a cheese sandwich and some baked Doritos)!!

I am certainly not having the week from hell.  I’ve had worse.

But typing the last job I was trying desperately to cram in before 1am (so it would go on today’s pay and not tomorrow’s – not that it makes a diff when it comes to the paycheck, it’s just a thing I have) I was falling asleep as I typed.  Not because it was boring (it was) and not the falling asleep where my brain actually shuts off and my eyes close and I drift away (I do that frequently while working) but my body actually told me to screw myself and decided it was done.  Such a weird feeling.  One I do not like.  One I might have liked (did like) in my younger days.  But not now, not when I feel de.cide.ed.ly older than 34.

Ashleigh picked this week of all weeks to attend camp.

So?  What’s wrong with that?  What’s WRONG with that is that when I set my schedule up two WEEKS ago, I chose to work until 3am.  What’s WRONG with that is that she has to be at camp at 9am.  What’s WRONG with that is that I have to be up by 8am to get her up (and me up) to get her there by 9am.  What’s WRONG with that is I’m sooo afraid I’m going to oversleep my alarm or fall asleep with it in my hand (it’s my cell phone) that I don’t sleep – at all – because I’m up every five minutes to make sure I haven’t slept more than my allotted 4 1/2 hours.

And of course this week is THE week – THAT week – the GIRLY week and this week decides to be the worst/heaviest/most painful week ever in the history of girly weeks.  Of course, the lack of sleep and increase of stress could have something to do with that …maybe.

And my parents are leaving Sunday and that sucks.  My mom is like my best friend and you know, I really kind of dig my dad since he retired and isn’t all stressed out and stuff now.  And I want to cram all my free time (insert laugh here) into their time HOWEVER – they are busy.  I’m busy.  I’m too tired to be very good company.  And they’re going to be gone FOREVER and it sucks and bet your ass I’m whining.  I talk to my mom every day.  And I hate cell phones.  I hate cell phones in the mountains where they’ll be.  The reception sucks.

And now I have to try not to kill HER flowers as well as my own.  The pressure is enormous!

I need a caffeine IV bag.  I can’t drink enough of it, I’m trying.  My body is rebelling.  I just have to get through 2 more days.  2 days.  I can do that.

It’s bad when your TEENAGER tells you to go to bed because you look like crap.  Silly naive child.

So, while I go back to work – here’s a song:

me the gardener? pshaw.

Pretending to be a gardener has taken over my life.

I spend so much time standing and squatting in the front garden that I’m thinking the purple things don’t grow because they’re scared of my butt.  But I’m relentless on the weeds and deadheads.  I hate the purple Salvias so much I contemplate “accidentally” stepping on them or blaming their permanent demise on the cat that prefers to nap in the corner of the garden.  I have one pot of flowers that were injured in the move from store to my house and one Salvia has thrived, so much that the plant is three times taller than the gorgeous ones my mom’s got going and the flower is a really bright purple.   But instead of killing the other, ugly, short, stumpy, insolent flowers, I simply loaded them with miracle grow potting soil and am doing my best to keep my hands off of them.

I almost got in an accident the other day driving into my neighborhood because I was more focused on a neighbor’s flowers than the car coming at me.

I want one of every plant the grocery store (yes, the grocery store – what?  It’s not like I go anywhere else) has to offer in the front of the store.    I contemplate the seed display each time I pass it.

I’m seriously considering the removal of several trees in my backyard that I’ve previously fought so hard to keep standing in order to allow more sunlight onto my veggies.

I wonder if the dogs will be really pissed if I take up another section of their yard, dig up all the dirt and tack up another bright orange fence around it.

I search the interwebs for seeds, information, the best way to get things to grow.

I perused the aisles of a couple stores for garden decorations to the point of distraction today – and even said, out loud, that I thought they were cheesy, chintzy, tacky…but might look cute poking out from the violas…

violas and coleus

while scouring my brain (and google) for the name “coleus” I ran across this:  *drool*

I’m considering starting a compost pile.

I instructed one of my outdoor cats that he was not, under any circumstance, to leave his post at the garden fence and gave him permission to kill, kill, kill anything that tries to cross the boundary.

I don’t think one of any plant is sufficient and I think possibly I should make a trip on the sly to the store and pick up another zucchini and cucumber plant.  I’m definitely considering getting another cherry tomato plant.

Todd thinks we’re going to be killed by a rogue watermelon plant in the middle of the night there are so many in what’s going to be named the “jungle” side of the veggies.

What’s ironic is all these seed plants will kill my stomach.  And I don’t even like or eat watermelon.

I’m pretty sure that during this, my virgin gardening expedition, with all my vast (err…3 weeks’ worth) experience, I should certainly next tackle the root veggies – carrots, taters, sweet taters – and I should do this soon.

It’s crawled into my facebook statuses and has become a major topic when talking to…well, anyone I talk to, it feels like.   I could totally strike up a conversation with a total stranger about potting soil, seeds versus plants and when to thin….I’d be completely ignorant, but I’d still have the conversation.

Yes, pretending to be a gardener has taken over my life.

whatcha listening to?

Andrew Belle – Make it Without You (no vid, just the song)

This is the starting of my greatest fear
i’m all packed up, getting out of here
but then you call and tell me not to go
that i’m the one who put the rock n roll
in your life

this is the starting of a brand new day
i never liked this town much anyway
i need this city like i need the rain
i know that somewhere there’s a north bound train

oh i’ll make it without you
and though my bodies laying here
it’s my mouth that must be lying now

this is the starting of my fall from grace
my self esteem, it’s seen better days
but you know i’ll never let this go to waste
i’ll keep this memory on the map i trace
back to home
my friends go out, but i’ve been staying in
i know i should but that’s the way it’s been
i never cared much for the taste of gin
i still don’t now, oh, but it’s been helpin

oh i’ll make it without you
in my life
oh i’ll make it without you
and though my bodies laying here
it’s my mouth that must be lying now

Venus Hum – Soul Sloshing (thanks again, Jay.  My kids hate me for how often I play this.  Therefore I dance and play it…a lot…just for that reason)

Muse ♥ – Uprising

My Chemical Romance – Teenagers

Audioslave – Like A Stone (esp. around 2:58)

The Fray – Never Say Never

i’ve been…

trying to make the best of things.

My work schedule has been utterly craptastic.  Most days last week I did not work before 11am or noon.  This did give me a bit of a chance to catch up around the house – laundry,  separating the don’t fits from the fits in the girls’ dressers.  Allowed me to farm, attack, bite before going to work.

But it left me feeling a bit pressed to get enough work done to actually make any money…and to stick to nothing but work for the few hours I had on the schedule.

So last Sunday I had a conversation with myself.  The other myself.  The one who is frequently bossy and a know it all and high and mighty and someone I don’t really like that often, though usually she’s right.

The other me simply told the scrambled me (the me that usually takes center stage) to let the other me take the reigns for the day.  Just the day.  To listen to other me when I tell myself to just finish this job, now just the next one, the one after.  And when I got through that day, I had made more in a mere three hours than I’d made in an entire day the week before.  So I let the other me take over one day, one job at a time.  And I had a really great week.  Very sore hands and fingers but a great week.

And this weekend, I found that I didn’t want to reward myself with my farm or my mafia, I barely wanted to be on the computer at all.  This could have been, in part, due to March Madness.  I find basketball to be even more boring than baseball but Todd adores basketball so the TV was tuned into some basketball game all weekend.  I killed time on Saturday by going to the grocery store, cleaning up the house and then turned my attention to the basement.  I got all the cobwebs, cleaned out the drain in the washer, under the washer, and swept up all the cat hair I could get under the broom.

And then turned my attention to my craft desk.  More aptly the junk desk.  It’s the place everything gets dumped when I don’t know where else to put it.

The simple task of straightening it out, tossing a LOT into the garbage and putting things in order led me to tinkering with the crafty stuff in the drawers and then an idea was born.  I worked until 10 or so and then Todd and I passed out in bed by close to 10:30.

Sunday was a trip to Michaels for the girls to spend their birthday money and for me to use up my gift cards.  I actually only spent about $7.00 on a couple things of paint and a dowel.

I did get to my farm before anything withered.  And then planted 4 day crops because I just don’t feel like dealing with it.  But I have a bazillion requests to sort through and I just don’t feel like dealing with it.

I don’t have to work until noon again today.  So I’m shuffling laundry and emptying the dishwasher.  And I’m going to read.  A book.

My dog is constipated though doing better today than he was yesterday.  The other dog is very sad and forlorn and wants to play and is so out of sorts if someone sneezes she comes running, thinking it’s time to play.  I wish I spoke dog.

The element on our damned stove blew out last night – just as Todd had put a turkey breast inside to cook.  We had grilled turkey.  The stove is ancient, probably older than me (okay, that might be pushing it) and I have no idea how to even look for an element for it.  I guess that’s something I should look into today.  Whee!

blargh

That’s my day.

Found my dream job.  I worked all day on the application.  I fixed my resume.  I labored over the cover letter.  The application process ate it.  TWICE.  Or else I submitted it three times and yeah, that’s going to make me look competent.

When I got home from being at a Lacrosse booster meeting (which for the life of me I’m not sure why I felt obligated to go as my son hasn’t even tried out yet), I felt manic.  Like there weer 17 things I wanted to do and I wanted to do them all at once.  Right now, now, now nownownownownow nowwwwwwww.

And now I feel like a dried up piece of lettuce.  (for some reason there is a withering piece on my stapler and it’s in my eye-line, hence the reference.)

I’m fed up with this application.