Well, hmm.

Fred Phelps, notorious founder and leader of the Westboro Baptist Church has died.  The church was made up mostly of his family who demonstrated at many, many places with signs that read "God Hates Fags".  Mr. Phelps had the philosophy that the attacks of 9/11, the resulting conflict in the middle east and generally anything bad that happened to the U.S. was because of the sins of the citizens, mostly the homosexuals.

I really didn't like Mr. Phelps or his message.  It wasn't a church.  It was a cult.  The members were mostly his family, but when he needed a webmaster, another family was allowed to join.  According to his estranged children, who snuck off in the middle of the night, he was a man with anger issues who regularly beat all of his children and his wife.  One of his sons referred to him as a "rage addict".

I've seen a few documentaries and read a bunch of articles about the church and they keep themselves segregated from the community.  When the granddaughters are asked if they think they'll marry, they reply "Who'd marry us?"  and giggle.

The oldest daughter, who is also the attorney for the family, was asked if any other kids would be allowed to come over and play with the passel of grandchildren she said "Who would let their kids come over to our house?"  When asked if the children's parents had the same beliefs and wanted to have fellowship with another family, she stuttered "Well..... yes. Yes, sure."

So, this group clearly knows that the rest of the world hates them.  But, they stick around and demonstrate at soldier's funerals and hold on to the belief that they are really trying to save the world.  Their message isn't that God holds hatred and dishes out punishment because he thinks same gender attraction is oogy, it's that they want to show the U.S. the error of their ways and help everyone get to Heaven, which is a very loving thing. 

Honestly, I think the man was nuts.  I think he was a megalomaniac who convinced himself that everything that happened was about him. 

I think he was insane and had himself a little cult that got a lot of media attention because they were easy to hate.  They were equally offensive to everyone.  Even conservatives who think being gay is oogy were upset that the church would demonstrate at the funerals of fallen soldiers. 

*Sigh*  Am I doing a little dance now that he's dead?  No.  No, I'm not doing that.   Do I think he made the world a better place?

That's complicated.

Hear me out!

Mr. Phelps brought people together in counter demonstrations to block the hateful messages.  People put on wings, formed human walls and revved their motorcycles so funeral attendees wouldn't have to see their signs.  There was legislation passed in areas that said any demonstrations have to take place at least 100 yards from a funeral in progress.  That was in direct response to the Westboro Baptist Church.  Was he a horrible person?  Yes.  Did good things come from his out there attempts?  Yes.

The family has said they will not have a funeral since they don't worship the dead.  This confuses me.  Isn't Jesus dead?  Oh no, he came back so they worship the UNdead. 

Many people are of the opinion that the reason there won't be a funeral is because the family knows there would be a really, really big demonstration at the ceremony.  I'm quite certain that there are parties going on right now to celebrate the fact that this dude has kicked it.

I don't know if he's gone to Hell or if his version of Heaven opened up or if he's just dead.  I don't know what I believe when it comes to the afterlife.  But, the next time he's sent to earth to have some more lessons, I don't think it will be pleasant.

Ghoulies and ghosties and a trip to the ER

Everyone who knows me knows I love ghost stories.  I've loved them since I was 8 or 9.  They've always scared me, but I've always adored them.  So, when my friend Sarah in Iowa invited me to come along on an adventure to Villisca, Iowa to spend the night in the notorious Villisca Axe House (check it out here), I checked my funds, found them agreeable and booked a plane ticket.

There were 7 of us going on this trip.  Sarah, her daughter Jacelyn, Jacelyn's friend Taylor, Jon, Jon's girlfriend Amanda and Genevive.  Genevive has been on ghost hunting expeditions before. She came armed with a voice recorder, camera and knowledge. 

We took a 4 hour drive from Sarah's house, stopping along the way to visit the World's Largest Concrete Gnome in Aames, and arrived  in Villisca in the late afternoon.  After we got a tour of the house, which was originally built in 1868 and has been beautifully restored, we received the keys and were left to our own devices. 

We lugged in our stuff, a lot of blankets and pillows along with our cameras, flashlights and snacks and wandered around the house.  The house still has all the original woodwork around the doorways, which always fascinates me. It's not very big.  A kitchen, living room and one bedroom downstairs.   Two bedrooms, one of them is just the space at the top of the stairs, and the entry to the attic upstairs.  The attic wasn't scary, it was just an attic.  The parent's room wasn't exactly comfortable, but it wasn't exactly creepy.  And the kid's bedroom upstairs was very light and airy.  It really felt quite nice to be in there. 


The bedroom downstairs has a closet in the space under the staircase.  This room, the closet especially, are really creepy.  It's not a dark room, it has big windows and gets plenty of light.  It's painted a very nice light blue and it's been decorated in 1912 style.  There aren't cobwebs hanging or anything like that.  It's just......creepy and unpleasant to be in.  The closet especially scared me.  Can't say why, just did.  I really, really didn't even want to be in there. 

We decided to go out to a local place for dinner. The food was super good, cheap and nice sized portions.  Just what you'd expect from small town Iowa.  As we were leaving the woman working there asked if we were visiting the haunted house, which I knew was going to happen. 

After we got back, we all stood around outside, smoking cigarettes and delaying going inside.  Finally, we trooped back in.  We all decided to walk around to see if anything had shifted position.  Jacelyn and Taylor wanted someone to go upstairs with them so Sarah and I went along. 

Since there are supposed to be the ghosts of children,  balls and toys are all over the place.  You can roll a ball in the children's bedroom upstairs and it will roll back to you.  But, that's because the floor slants and it will happen the same every time.

As we got to the top of the stairs, a big rubber ball was sitting on a chair in the children's room.  Jacelyn said "Was that ball on that chair before?" 

Sarah said "No, it was NOT."  Jacelyn and Taylor screamed and shoved Sarah and I out of the way to get to the stairs.  I think it was the very definitive way Sarah said it that made the teenage girls freak out.  After they bolted, Genevive  called us to the downstairs bedroom. There was a mini basketball in the closet down there that had been on the floor when we left, but was up on a low shelf in there now. 

And I got scared.  I started to contemplate sleeping in the van. 

We made camp in the living room, which was really cold.  I bundled under a blanket trying to stay warm and so I'd have something to hide under. Because, as we all well remember, blankets have the powerful ability to ward off any monsters, ghosts or other unexplainable thing that wants to do us harm.
Jon, Taylor and Jacelyn tried a Ouija session, but nothing happened. I'm honestly frightened of Ouija boards.  I'll watch, but I won't participate.  The board was new.  I bought it for a photo prop and new boards don't work very well, or so I've been told. 

The group decision was made to try moving to a room upstairs that might be warmer.  The children's room upstairs was not only warmer, it didn't feel scary.  Sarah and I got comfy close to each other, me hiding under my blanket.  Genevive did an EVP session (this is where you try and record the ghosts talking using a handheld recorder).  Then Jacelyn, Taylor and Jon got the Ouija board out again. 

While they were trying to make it work, which it did, very slowly.  I started to hear things downstairs.  There was a vent in the floor that went straight down to the living room, so it was just like being in that room sound-wise.  I could hear stuff shifting around down there.  Like the blankets that were still there were being rearranged or a bag was being moved across the floor.  I heard footsteps on the stairs, only 2 of them, but I still heard them.  Since the board wasn't moving quickly, the three of them trying to communicate moved to a space they felt uncomfortable in, which was the parent's room. 

There was no way I was coming out of my blanket to go into the parent's room to watch the trio talk to more ghosts.  Not when I was hearing stuff moving, footsteps and items had shifted position.  Yeah, the owner could have come back and moved things around, but I was staying under my blanket! I started to wonder if I should have brought some Depends so I wouldn't have to walk through the house to go out to the barn to use the bathroom.

Right about then, Sarah lifted up her head and said "Okay, I'm not doing very good.  Something is really wrong with me." It turned out that she was experiencing pain on her right side, had chills and a bad headache.

A group vote decided that she needed to go to ER.  There was only one spot around the house where anyone could get enough of a signal to look up hospitals and call to find out where it was.  I volunteered to take Sarah to the ER.  Really, I almost jumped up and yelled "ME! MEEEEEEMEMEMEME!" I was so wanting to get out of that creepy house. 

I drove Sarah the 20 minutes to the hospital, got her checked in and waited a very short amount of time with her.  She had a kidney infection and was passing a stone.  She got some painkiller and went to sleep.  I laid my coat down on the floor and went to sleep.  A nurse woke me up to say Sarah was being admitted, they were moving her to a room.  The staff gave me a toothbrush and some scrubs to sleep in.  I laid down on the couch and conked out.

The next day involved me going back to the house to pick up the rest of our party, get Sarah out of the hospital and then drive back to Stacyville. 

How was the trip?  Event filled!  I'm glad I went to visit and spend time with my friend.  But I found out I'm not exactly cut out for ghost hunting.  I'll keep up with my story reading and daytime visits, but probably not anymore overnights for me.  Not even with a blanket.

A vacation for me! Not to a warm place though.

I'm going to be taking a trip on my own for the first time since Zoe was born.  I did go to California by myself for a few days in 2012, but that was to visit my grandfather while he was still lucid. He died four months after I saw him, so I'm hesitant to count that as a vaca.

This time, I'm going to be traveling to Iowa.  Yes, Iowa.  I'll be visiting my friend Sarah, the owner of Envisage 365 online art project.  It's a website where women post a photo a day for a year.  This is the 7th year it's been going.  I haven't been able to keep up this year, but I was a charter member and was very active in years 1 - 6.  The project is very important to me and was a vital part of getting through my breakdown in 2009. 

Sarah and I have watched each other go through a LOT in the last 6 years.  Even though we've never met in person, I call her my friend and she calls me her friend.  We communicate on Facebook every day because we both spend almost all of our time online. 

While I'm there, we will be going to stay at the Villisca Axe House in Villisca, Iowa.  What is the Villisca Axe House, you ask?  Check it out here:  Villisca Axe House.  It's supposed to be terribly haunted.  Therefore, we will be spending the night with Sarah's daughter, a friend of her daughter's and some other people.  We're bringing cameras and a ouija board and our overactive imaginations.  My biggest fear is that some of the locals will see us staying and scare the shit out of us by banging on windows or making noises outside. 

This town is very small and I'm sure we'll stick out like sore thumbs.  Sarah's daughter with her snake bite piercings, me with my leopard coat and Sarah with her tattoos may advertise us as people in town to spend the night in the murder house. 

After our little overnight adventure, we're going to go up to St. Paul to spend the night at another friend's house as the three of us are going to go see Miley Cyrus the next day.  Sarah has told me to be excited even if I'm faking it.  It also looks like we're going to be wearing full body pajamas that are designed to look like animals.  Mine is a wolf.  We're going to have fun. 

Amanda's beauty tip of the day:  in the winter time make sure to moisturize your hands and your hair more than you usually do. 

So, it's like this see

The smallest of choices can make big differences in someone's life.  Today, after some internal debate, I decided to go to the craft store closer to my house instead of driving to the bigger one further away.  That way I could go to the Wal-Mart up the street and get the other miscellaneous stuff I needed.

On my way out, I decided to go see what was at Redbox since Scott was going to be late-ish.  I could watch a movie.

As I'm browsing, I notice a woman sitting on the floor in the foyer.  She's looking at her phone, nothing out of the ordinary.   I heard an older couple ask her "What breed?"  and I look over.   She has a puppy in her lap.  I hear her say the puppy is a red heeler and she's looking for a home for him since she lost her place and can't take care of him anymore.

What do I do?  I go over and look at the little guy.  I held him and he was a little cuddle bug.

I tried to text and call Scott but I wasn't able to reach him.  I told her that I couldn't reach my husband and I didn't want to make a decision without him.  I got her number in case we would be able to take him.

When I got home I instant messaged to Scott that I almost brought home a puppy, then I told him the same story I just told you. 

He said "You could take him.  If the doofi don't like him, at least he'll have a place to stay until we can find another home for him."

I sent a text and went to pick the little guy up.  The woman I got him from was staying in a by-the-week budget hotel.  I paid her $60 and watched while she said goodbye to the pup.

"I lost my husband and my other dog.  Now I'm losing him."  She hugged him and said "I'm glad you're going to a good home. You be good."  Then she went into her room while I walked away.  My heart is breaking for this woman, who is obviously down on her luck.  I didn't press her for details, I just got out of there.

I named him Fender.  I took him home and spent 20 minutes introducing him to our other 2 dogs, Gibson and Peavey.  Peavey got a look on his face that clearly said "Oh, fuck my life."  and went in another room.  Gibson is the one we were concerned about.  He exhibits some aggression towards other dogs.  He wants to make sure that everyone knows he's the alpha dog.  We can't take him to the dog park because of this.  But, he took it pretty well.  He wagged his tail really big while he sniffed Fender all over.  He let him walk around the living room but stayed close to him.  There wasn't any growling or snapping. 

I took the puppy to school to pick up Will, who was thrilled.  Will held Fender in the car on the way home.  They played together while we waited for Zoe to get home.

We sat in the front yard and I hid Fender under my shirt while she walked down the street from the bus stop.  When I showed her what I was hiding she froze for about 5 seconds.  Then she started to squeal with excitement.

A couple of the kids' friends came over and swarmed all over our newest family member.  Now, I'm supervising everyone around the puppy. 

We were going to go to the local renaissance faire this weekend, but we'll be putting those plans off until next weekend.  Tomorrow we'll go to the pet store for supplies.  Then we'll come home and continue to see how our new dynamic is working out. 

Damn, but he's cute.

Amanda's beauty tip of the day:  Coconut oil makes an excellent deep, hair conditioner.  It will actually penetrate instead of coating.  A big jar of the stuff isn't super expensive and will last a loooong time. 

I share my greatest failure with you.

As everyone who knows me is aware, I went to culinary school during 2011-2012.  I received my certificate about a year ago, four months after I completed my program. 

I first got the idea to attend cooking school in 1997.  Since the kids were in school full time, it was time for me to make that dream happen.

I got so much out of it.  I learned a huge deal and I felt very, very accomplished for completing the program.  I suspect I was second in my class, but I have no proof of that.

I have different talents than those of my classmates.  My niche is comfort food and baking sweet things.  When we started on our cake classes, I was the one my fellow students came to for advice.  I  was the only one to make an Italian meringue frosting come together on the first attempt.  The pastry instructor who was assisting my teacher in checking our work gave me high praise.

(Italian meringue frosting is made by whipping eggs for a loooooong time until they become high in volume and fluffy.  Then a simple syrup is created by boiling water and sugar together, twice as much sugar as water.  The hot syrup is poured into the eggs while the mixer is going.  The last step is to start adding in butter until it reaches the correct consistency.  This stuff is sweet and very buttery.  Sinful and decadent.)

Armed with my certification and my year of experience interning at a local cupcakery (thanks Amy!) I started applying for jobs.  I applied to bake cupcakes at a local company who popped an ad up on Craigslist for half a day.  Out of literally hundreds of applications, mine was pulled out along with exactly 5 others.  I wasn't selected, but I was assured the decision was a difficult one.

I found a position at a grocery store looking for a baker.  I went through an extensive interview process and I got the job!  I was super excited to learn more and have a source of income that would include benefits and discounts on anything I purchased.

I did two weeks of training at a different store than I'd be working.  My role at this store was to do the early morning frying of donuts, baking muffins and bagels then setting up the display case for the opening of the store.  Then I assisted the lead baker with breads, rolls, cookies and cakes.  I pulled the frozen product for the next day and stored the product that had arrived that day.  I was told I had done well.  I felt good about how I'd do. 

When I got to the store where I'd be working, things were very different.  First of all, the staff was short by three people.  With a staff of eight, this is a significant shortage.

I was excited to be working with the manager as he had trained in Switzerland.  I knew I could learn a huge amount from him simply from watching.  I was ready to take on this challenge.  

The manager put me on early frying and doing ALL the baking for the day.  All of it.  I was doing the job of two people.  I worked from 2 a.m. to 2 p.m. five days a week and I still wasn't cutting it.  I was going home sobbing every single day.

Then there was the manager who yelled, called me names and questioned out loud why I'd been selected for the position.  He didn't give me guidance for my first few days, just let me leave loaves in the proofer far too long, wouldn't tell me to put toppings on the loaves or tell me where to find them.  And, then he would yell at me.  I can take constructive feedback, but telling me he was told I was smart but I acted like a stupid person is another thing.

And the kitchen was filthy.  I mean filthy.  Like, the sugar glaze for the donuts and other pastries wouldn't get stored properly each day and bugs would get in it.  Baking sheets were left dirty instead of being washed.  I wasn't shown how to work the giant dishwasher or how to drain the oil in the fryer, which was a gross dark brown.

I seriously played with the idea of just not showing up on my fifth day of work.  I was miserable.  I was failing. I was failing epically as my son would say.  The money was good.  But my soul was dying.  I gave exactly one day notice.  Then my son's school called to say he had a fever.  It turned out to be the flu and I'd have to stay home with him on what would be my last day.

I went home and cried.  I cried for hours.  I had failed.  I had failed like I'd never failed before.  I'd created chaos, stress and difficulty for other people.   I had crashed.  I had burned.  I had burned up to a crisp. 

I was discouraged and wallowed around in negative self-talk telling myself I'd been fooling myself that I could make a career out of cooking.  One of my classmates had landed a job at one of the highest rated, white tablecloth restaurant in the city.  The one other female in my class was running a kitchen at a local bar and grill.  Another was managing a take out place near campus.  Yet another was working at a fancy resort and had been quickly promoted.  And I had just fucked up a job at a grocery store.   I was still cooking at home for my kids, who begged for Hamburger Helper and Ramen noodles.  Wow, I was really putting that year of training to work.

I took a couple of months break and started looking again.  On a whim, I applied at my local location for a major coffee chain.  The hours could flex around. I could go in early , but not 2 a.m. early.  I could leave in time to pick up my kids.  Being a big corporation, massive overtime wouldn't exist.

My background is in customer service.  I can work a fast pace.  I learn quickly.  I told this to the store manager and I was hired.

I've been there for about 10 months and I'm doing great. I'll blog about what I do another day.

Today, I'm going to make rosemary and garlic infused pork chops with a berry compote accompanied by mashed potatoes for Sunday dinner.  I'll bake up some brownies to have with ice cream.  Then I'll go to bed early so I can go to work tomorrow at 4:15.

And I tell myself that it's fine what I'm doing with my life.  And I'm trying very hard to believe that.


Amanda's beauty tip of the day:  In the winter time, you'll need to exfoliate more often due to the dryness heaters cause.  When you scrub more often, use something gentler, like baking soda with your facial cleanser.  And up your water. 

How did this come to be here?

You are probably asking yourself how this sofa came to be out on the curb.  Allow me to explain.

I took my son to the hardware store to get supplies to make a bottle garden.  He got a book from school about making one and was excited about the prospect.  (you get a wide-mouthed bottle.  We used a fish bowl.  Put an inch of gravel in the bottom.  Place a half inch of crushed charcoal on top of that.  Then add four inches of potting soil.  Plant in some small plants. Place in a sunny place.  We didn't cover it as the plants we selected were too tall for a cover.  It was fun. )

On our way home, after about 45 minutes being out and about, I spotted a sofa and love seat on the curb in front of a neighbor's house with a sign stating they were free.  I'm fascinated by the idea of free-ganing.  That's a lifestyle where one gets as many things for free as possible.  It involves dumpster diving and trolling Craigslist.  Grocery stores take our their trash right before closing, this is supposed to be the best time to check their receptacles.  Apartment dumpsters at the end of the month are rumored to be good, since people are tossing stuff as they move out and in.  Find out when the local area's are scheduled for large item pick up days and cruise for big things.  Go to garage sales late in the afternoon and offer to take stuff off their hands.  There are rumored to be 1000 free-gans in Manhattan.  They use some of the things they find and they sell other things.  I find this very interesting. 


We've been needing a new sofa for some time.  The one we had was cheap to begin with and we've been hard on it for seven years.  I'd recovered the seat cushions and made new pillows but it was getting sad.

After getting my boy child into the house and sending him to wake up his father, I ran up the street to claim them.  They were in really good shape.  Obviously they'd been sat on, but they were very clean.  They'd fit in our living room!  They were light brown!  That goes with everything!  It didn't even need to be Febreezed!

I started to push the love seat down the street towards my house, five houses down.  Thanks be to the deity of your choice that it was downhill.  I can lift big urns of coffee but cardio isn't exactly my forte.  I pushed with my legs and after much huffing and puffing I got it in front of our house.

I ran back for the sofa.  It was bigger.  Shit.  I pushed it for one driveway to pass by and stopped to rest.  At this point, my excellent next door neighbors were driving up the street and stopped to help me out.  Again, thanks be to the deity of your choice.  The three of us got the two pieces of furniture into the house, totally blocking the front door.  I hoped there wouldn't be a spontaneous fire.  Then I remembered we have a back door and a garage door and forgot about it.

I started to shove furniture around.  The amount of debris under the couch was ridiculous, as usual.  Empty Capri-Suns, dust bunnies, Legos, a butter wrapper, you get the idea.  After a bunch of Tetris-ing I was able to get the old couch to the front door.  I kept the throw pillows so I could take out the batting and make new pillows for the new/used stuff.

I then shoved the old couch outside and flipped it over.  The amount of debris that fell out of the thing was also ridiculous.  Tweezers, a couple of table knives, playing cards, a pair of underpants belonging to my son and a lot of crumbs. Again, you get the idea. 

Once the old sofa was at the curb, I stuck a sign on it letting anyone who came by know it was free.

Then I spent an hour and a half sweeping, mopping and moving the new/used furniture around until it was arranged to my satisfaction.

Small problem.  I have two big chairs that I need to figure out what to do with.  I think they'll go up in the playroom, the big room upstairs in the front of the house.  The kids can jump around on them as much as they like.

My daughter came home from the sleepover she'd been to the night before and immediately called dibs on the love seat.  Then my son said she couldn't call dibs on it because he'd already called dibs on it.  I broke it up saying it belonged to the whole family, their dad would probably end up sitting there and besides, I'd already piled a bunch of clean laundry on it.

As The Husband watched me shove and sweep and huff and puff he raised his eyebrows.  After he was out of the shower and off to work, he said "Okay, if you decide to bring anymore garbage in the house ask me first."

But I'm refusing to sneeze.  New/used furniture!  Yay!  I'm sitting on one right now. 

The old couch is still out in front of my house with it's sign.  I've also listed it on Craigslist saying it's free.

Here's to free!

Amanda's beauty tip of the day:  Coconut oil makes a great addition to your routine.  It can be used for a deep conditioner and a moisturizer. 

After half a year I whine and beg for attention.

I'm really depressed today.

I mean, life isn't BAD. The Husband and I are reconciling and it's going very well, better than I ever would have anticipated.  I like my job at the big, corporate, coffee company.  I even like my co-workers.   I have a trip out of town to look forward to. I'll be getting together with a bunch of other whackos to spend the night in a house where a bunch of people were killed and the place is supposed to be haunted.  (I'm wondering if we need to start a pool listing who will nope the hell outta there and after how many hours.  Could be big money!) 

Anyway, life isn't bad.  However, I'm the only one in the fam who is not sick right now.  The Daughter came down with it first.  Cough, fever, congestion, standard fare.  We though it was cedar fever.  (Allow me to explain.  Here in central Texas, there are a LOT of allergens.  We have so many allergens that the news gives an allergy report.  This time of year is cedar season.  If you have a response to cedar stuff that makes you sneeze and cough and stuff, it's called Cedar Fever.) 

But then her brother came down with it.  I was sitting on the couch with him watching the boob tube when he said "Mama?"

I turned to him to see what he was going to say.  Instead of speaking, he coughed in my face.  *sigh* 

Then I came down with it, but I only had it for two days.  On both of those days I went to work.  If I can't get someone to cover my shift, I have to work. 

Then The Husband was knocked flat by the great bug that shall not be named. He's dealing with fever, sniffles and coughing.  When he's feeling well enough he's continuing to go into work where, prior to getting sick, he's been putting in 12 hours a day, six days a week trying to get a project completed on time.  He's just one of the pieces of the puzzle, but every piece counts. 

The Daughter has had residual cough for a week.  Doc says it's a virus and drip is causing her cough, just have to ride it out.  The Son's asthma is acting up, he's coughing. 

I'm trying to take care of everyone.  And while I"m doing this, I'm looking at the disaster that is known as my house looking back at me.  Stacks of laundry that need to be done or folded.  Some of the clean stuff has gotten knocked out of the baskets onto the floor and is now dirty laundry again.  There are the dishes that have been stacked up and there's no way one load of dishes a day can keep up.  The drifts of dog hair along the base boards.  The dust all over everything.  The Christmas tree is still up. The backyard is still looking like a junkyard.  There is trash on the floor, including used tissues that have missed the wastepaperbasket  but have been left where they land.  And that's just downstairs.

Both kids were supposed to go back to school this week, but one or both of them were at home every day this week.  If they're home they need things.  Water. Crackers. Noodles. Over-the-counter remedies.  The remote.  Blankets.  Tissues.  Tea.  Oh no, they don't like tea but they forgot.

I've managed to list some stuff on ebay that no one is interested in.

I'm totally overwhelmed and I have no idea what to do.  I just want to be by myself.  I want to be somewhere where no one is coughing.  I want to be somewhere where no one is asking me for anything, where there aren't any chores that need to be done staring me in the face, reminding me of how I'm failing at this whole "making the house a home" thing.  I sit and try to chill out but then I beat myself up for not interacting with the kids enough. 

This has been going on for going on 8 days.  It sounds really fucking selfish, whining and complain-y, but I'm wondering when my energy is going to give out.  I'm emotionally wrung out.  I'm physically tired.  And now I've logged on to my blog for the first time in six months so I can bitch and beg for attention.

I'm a winner Corny.

Amanda's beauty tip of the day:  I can't think of one right now, my brain won't bend that way today.