Song Saturday: Foster the People -Don't Stop (Color on the Walls)

55 Flash Fiction Friday: I'm Late

Conversation stopped. Her face looked lost in thought. She glanced at the clock and nearly swung around to look at the calendar. "Oh my God!" "What's wrong?" "I'm late," she said. He choked on his drink and his eyes widened. "You aren't...?" "I forgot to post," she sad sadly. G-Man's gonna think I flaked... again."




Flash Fiction Friday is hosted by g-man.

Song Saturday: M83 -Midnight City

55 Flash Fiction Friday: Set Fire

The friends sat there listening. "Dude, she's been done wrong.", said one friend. "I know. She's awfully bitter about it too." As they sat there hearing horrible story after horrible story one friend just couldn't take it anymore. "For Christ's sake. She should just burn his house down and be done with it." Laughter erupted.




Flash Fiction Friday is hosted by g-man.

Wordless Wednesday: Valentine's Day Gift Fail

NPR Valentine's Day Cards

NPR Valentine's Day Cards

Pay it Forward... To Yourself

Last night I escaped with what my Irish father referred to as "elitist English shite".  Yep, I was watching Downton Abbey on Masterpiece.  I am thoroughly and completely enjoying this show.  While I no longer believe in romance or love I am as vulnerable as the next gal to shameless forbidden romance.  As I watched it it occurred to me that I was so completely taken away that I'd forgotten.

What had I forgotten?  I had forgotten about Monday.

Lately I get a tension headache almost everyday.  Usually by Sunday at 1:00 I start to dread the inevitable coming of the work week.  Don't get me wrong.  I don't hate my job.  Sometimes I quite like it and given the horrible situation of the economy I feel incredibly lucky and don't take my paying gig for granted.  I may not have bought myself any clothes in almost two years and my only pair of jeans have been washed so much that there is now a hole exposing what color underwear I wear, but I can buy my daughters clothes and pay for a roof over their head.  That's what matters.

So why am I getting headaches?  Work.  Beyond a normal year this year has a lot more stress.  I could deal with that but I am having a hard time dealing with the endless parade of attitudes and bad moods people bring with them to work.  I could easily bring my problems with me to work.  Every single day for a long time now I have felt lost, sad, scared, or even angry.  I do not, however, bring that to work.  If my life isn't going as well as I'd like it's not your fault.  If life sucks it isn't your responsibility to deal with it.

Despite the fact that I feel that way others seemingly do not have this same viewpoint.  I understand that people have their own problems or difficulties.  What I do not get is their proclivity for making you feel as miserable as they do.  I come in and no matter how I feel I am ready to engage you in a pleasant way.  I'm ready to share a laugh or smile.  It seems like work has almost become a perverse version of Pay It Forward except that unkindness and unhappiness are what they send down the line in a whisper down the miserable lane.

So thank you PBS.  You have once again provided me with an escape from reality.  Or as my father would say, an escape from reality to "elitist English shite" reality.  It's not his fault.  He's Irish.

Sunday 160: Robbed

She stole my safety.  

He stole my hope.  

All that is left is me but 

I don't know who that is anymore.  

I went back to my old kingdom and didn't recognize myself on the coin.  

Song Saturday: Lupe Fiasco -The Show Goes On

The Monday Mix: Cranberry Scones

I don't cook. I get distracted easily. I've burned water, walked away and burned instant noodles, and created all sorts of inedible delicacies that get scraped right from the pan to the trash. My children aren't eating though. They've seemingly gone off food. I can get them fast food and Chloe will say she'll eat later and never does. The only thing they are eating with fidelity is string cheese, yogurt, and already sliced apples.

In the interest of getting my kids to eat I figured I'd bake. Now don't get too excited. Notice this is called "The Monday Mix" so of course I bought a box and all I have to do is follow the directions. That shouldn't be so hard, right? Let's look at the pictures and see how successful I was...


So what attracted me to making cranberry scones? The clearance sticker! LOL

The directions said to add softened butter to the dry mix. So I nuked some butter. It still didn't look good so I added margarine. Margarine is already soft right?

Once I added the milk I finally felt that I was going somewhere... but it was so... stiff. Stiff is only good for some things right? *snicker* So I added more milk.



Then Chloe wanted in on the mixing action. It really made her happy.


So... remember when I added more milk than what the box called for? Well, apparently the mix should have been stiff *snicker* so that you could cut the scones into triangles then bake them. Obviously my milk adding enthusiasm ruined that so I kind of glopped them on a greased sheet. Yes, glopped is a word. I deem it so.

The glopping worked! It looks almost edible. Now I know what you are thinking. Please tell us you at least whipped your own cream. *snicker* (I'm sorry I can't help myself) Think again! It's Cool Whip! LOL



Bella looks ... OK, she doesn't look happy. However, she ate it! OK, really she just ate the whipped cream and cried when it was all gone. I ate it though and it was really good. This cooking from a box thing could work.

Tune in next week when I make Fettuccine Alfredo from a packet!!! LOL

Sunday 160: Barbie Doll

Legs for miles and killer heels. Like Barbie with looks that change as much as Gaga. No one will ever make Robin Thicke as cool just by shaking it for daddy.

Can you write microfiction in 160 characters or less? Then come see the Monkey Man!

Song Sunday: Nicki Minaj -Super Bass

**Boom x15*

Song Saturday: 30 Seconds to Mars -Closer to the Edge

**No,no,no,no..."

55 Flash Fiction Friday: Shocked

I sat there listening to the person I thought was my friend. He spewed anger at me and I took it all. I deserved everything he said and more. I let him talk until he said the one thing that shocked me. "What do you mean 'you weren't there' and don't know if it happened?!"






Flash Fiction Friday is hosted by g-man.

Song Saturday: ColdPlay - Every Teardrop Is A Waterfall

**I'd rather be a comma than a full stop**

55 Flash Fiction Friday: Blow Me

"I received an email to join Google+!" I said. "Did you join?" "No," I said sadly. "Why not!?" "Because I don't have a *expletive* computer... it's impossible to do stuff on my phone. It's why I'm never here." "Oh..." "I was even invited to join Erica on Na Bah Blow Me!" Both friends started giggling.






Flash Fiction Friday is hosted by g-man.

Song Saturday: Foster The People -Pumped Up Kicks

55 Flash Fiction Friday: You Do Know

She told her friend why she left. She felt comfortable enough after eighteen years to tell him. She said things fast and easily even laughing at one point. "You do know what he did? That's called rape.", he said worried at how easily she said it. "No. It wasn't." she said looking confused. "Was it?"






Flash Fiction Friday is hosted by g-man.

Don't Wish Time Away

All too often we race to get through life. If only this week, this month, this year would end. I'm often guilty of marking time by when I get paid. In the past it was OK to wish time away. Lately, however, I'm reconsidering this. Now I'm not just wishing my time away but I'm speeding up my kids growth. Sometimes there's a lot of crying (No, it's not all me) and a fair amount of whining (Again, not all me but I am good at it :-P ). Some days go great and others don't.

I am starting to think about how my acceleration, my desire to just get to the next easier moment, is causing time to go too fast. My Chloe is incredibly sensitive. My Bella is tough and sure of herself. As tough as my Bella is, she sees me when I pick her up and cries out "Mommy!" Yesterday she turned around and leaned against my legs looking for love and protection. As I dry Chloe off from her bath she asks, "Mommy, are you my best friend?"

A few days ago on Facebook someone I know posted what he thought being a father was. He said that essentially his job was to hunt down his kids like a bloodhound when he thought they needed it, to be tough, bug them, and worry about them. His post bothered me when he said that it wasn't his job to be his kids' friend. As a parent I have to set boundaries, be tough, and not always be the friend. But I am their friend. Not a friend who will burden them with confidences or adult responsibilities, but a friend who will always be there for them no matter what they do. A friend who will listen. It's my job to love them, provide for them, and keep them safe from things that they do not need to know. It's not my job to shatter their world. It's my job to keep them safe.

I'm far from perfect and make plenty of mistakes. I just hope that Chloe always knows I'm her friend and Bella, no matter how tough she is can lean on me for support and know I'm there for her no matter what.




Bella at one.


Bella at two.



Chloe at two and three-quarters



Chloe at three and three-quarters

Wordless Wednesday: Paul Revere's Reaction to Sarah Palin