To Sleep, Perchance to Talk to Sara

Okay. Life is tough and the days are long (as a parent you always feel this way) but, I have a new friend in the Dreamworld that has given me pause. Not paws...pause...as in held me up a step, taken me aback....Aback? Well, that means...oh, nevermind. Let's just say I have a new visitor in my dreams and what the hell is Sara Palin doing in there anyway? Why am I suddenly seeing our former governor? It is like having a old boyfriend you dumped because he was a stalker and one day you hear he is getting married and you break down and blubber like a fool, grieving over some idiot you never liked in the first place.

I like Sara Palin. There, I admit it. I like that she tried to be someone other than a politico robot. She said things, she meant them, and the system ate her for breakfast, buried the remains, then dug her up and ate her all over again.

I like the idea of a kick-ass homecoming queen who dared to be ignorant and only got madder the more people picked on her.

But, like most Alaskans, I have become a bit disillusioned with her and her methods. I like people with confidence and moxie, even when I don't agree with them and even when I think they are making a host of wrong decisions.

But she dumped me. Sent me a press conference, which is worse than a text message, to tell me we were quits. I didn't agree with her politics and expressed concern over her ethics issues, so she didn't want to be my governor anymore. I secretly think she is dating another constituent demographic, but I can't be sure.

She said it wasn't me, it was her. She said she needed a break and that we could still get together, and "Just Be Friends". I knew we were having troubles, but I just wanted to give it time and see what developed. I thought if she could mature a little, we could make it work. I was willing to give a little and see the world from her point of view. I just wanted her to crack a book once in awhile and take an online college course in world history.

But no, I turn on the tv and there she is, telling the WHOLE WORLD that she and I are through. I didn't hear a thing from her after that. Nothing. No press, no interviews, not even a tweet!

So, now I am going around telling everyone that I dumped her first. And that I never really liked her in the first place. But at night, I dream; and in that sleep, what dreams may come. The dreams that do arrive have me in a seat in a huge auditorium as my governor is making her way toward me, shaking hands, expressing her sincere commitment to be there for us and forge ahead.

I am dreaming of my old governor and wishing she still was.

Well, I'll be darned... I must have liked her more than I thought.

Flown the coop

I am brilliant...whenever I am away from my blog. All these great ideas come to me when I am alone in my car or working away on a draft of something at work. I solve the world's problems, resolve my parenting dilemmas, and discover the best date idea for my hubby and me that I have had in weeks.

Then I get to the blog after bushwacking through the, "Mommy, Mommy, Mommy" jungle, scaling the, "Screaming, Bleeding, Skinned Knee" mountains,and swinging on an extension cord looped around the ceiling fan to narrowly miss the migrating pile of toxic laundry climbing up out of the basement laundryroom.

By the time I get to my computer, I have suffered multiple head wounds, a broken sense of purpose, and am watching all inspiration bleed out from my body through a severed creative artery.

Oh, well. At least I tried.

I am at the age where I read a popular magazine, see the face of some new twenty-something starlet and her latest highjinks and say, "Who's that?" Then realize, "Who cares?"

Newest T-Shirt Idea (borrowed from somewhere):

I live in my own little world. But, it's ok. They know me here.

So, I was on my way to work this morning, contemplating the voices in my head that tell me my problems are much more serious than they really are, when it occurred to me that might not be the case.

I struggle mightily with the constant vile critic in my brain that constantly picks on me and tells me the smallest mistake is the highest criminal offense.

Sometimes, I can put the creature in a box and dress it up in a big pink clown wig, green shoes,and a spongy red nose. This is viewed as a humiliation by the critic and it rolls up into a corner and mutters about fashion choices and how the shoes clash with the hair.

Ah well, if I didn't have these little companions in my brain, life would be so boring.

Moving on,

It was a glorious 4th for my family. What started out as a somewhat dismal and stifled attempt at having a good time evolved into the most exhilirating family water fight I can recall.

I don't quite have the words to describe the calculating brain my husband has when it comes to strategy and tactics. He is the expert chess player who knows his victims too well. He nonchalantly played my proclivities for sneak attack and my daughter's inherent desire for subterfuge into the most devasting miscalculation I have ever made.

What started as an innocent plot between my daughter and myself to split up and outflank my husband and soak him with the hose somehow turned into him holding the hose, my daughter turning it back on screaming, "Now Mommy! Now!" and me taking a hit full in the face, instead of the other way around.

How does he do that.

After that all bets were off; the swim suits came on, and I am sure the neighbors thought an ax murderer was wreaking havoc in our yard....for two hours.

I did achieve a small amount of revenge against my husband, although at a price. Also, a word to the wise: when a nine-year-old claims to be an ally and declares a truce, she is lying through her teeth.

Just sayin'......

A Twit Tweets for Tweety Bird

So now I'm a twit on Twitter. Don't know why. The blog slog is enough. But you never know what can be useful, or at least annoying to your closest friends. I am still waiting for the wetware implants for the direct cranial interface. Bet my kids get them before I do. They will probably have some sort of age limit or driver's test you will have to take in order to qualify.

My newest T-Shirt idea: Call me Granny one more time.....

Cheers all. Mo' later.

Simple, really

I realized a few years ago that most things in life are quite simple.

Simple steps are all it takes to achieve, to build, to resolve.

Simple, but not easy. Oh, definitely not easy. Nothing in life is easy.

Except chocolate, that's a no-brainer.

Egad! This Stinks!

Hey, who left their Blog on the floor?!?

Would someone please come in here and pick this up? Hey, guys?!?

I didn't leave this h.... Wait....

Uhmmm....Maybe this is mine.

Are you guys sure? Mine wasn't this color!

What?!? Well yes, I know things age over time...look at me!

Would you stop yelling and come in here? I can NOT hear you over the vaccuum cleaner!

What? Yes, now I can.

Okay, say that again....

Well you look like one too, so there.

Oh nevermind! You're right, this is mine. I thought I put it in the fridge.

I hate it when these things thaw out.

Checking In

Just checking in, Sportsfans. It's a balmy 65 degrees here today and the local fish and wildlife experts predict that global warming is increasing at such a rapid rate we will soon see Brachiosaurus and T. Rex return to their native Alaskan habitat; a habitat devoid of their kind for the last 100 million years.

Oh, goody! T. Rex! Just in time for hunting season.

The state of my mind

Wow, listen to one Enya song and suddenly your brain is freebasing irish ballads and trippin' on the cosmic meaning of it all. I would find this very entertaining if I wasn't the one posting it all. I don't believe in censoring myself, but I may need to take myself outside for a little talk. "Lay off the Enya, girl. You are crazy!"

I sing the stars and all the sky

Music has been a form of worship since people became an amoebic life form and swam in the sea. It has always been a part of something spiritual; a part of that-which-is-greater than us all.

It is the foundation for the ancient magic and has more power than all the nations. And yet, modern societies think of it as entertainment. They disavow responsibility for the energy it conjures, the spells it casts, and the doors it opens to forces we rarely see, and never believe in.

You can open the door and invite in light, or welcome darkness. Your words, your songs - all contain the energy of the multitudes. They are a mighty force and must be used with awareness, reverence, and respect.

Light or dark...your choice.

Surprise visit

Summer arrived on Saturday. It arrived like a neighbor who's been annoying you all winter and she suddenly shows up with a bouquet of flowers because she heard you haven't been feeling well.

Power tools and summer fun....

When I was a kid, summer fun meant sneaking out to the garage to try and cut two-by-fours on the table saw in order to build a boat so we could float down the creek. Yes, I still have all my fingers and toes......amazing!

Being an older mom means...

you hit menopause at the same time your kids hit puberty.

Doogan's doo doo

Well, I must admit the first official comment on my blog was an articulate counterpoint to my rant on Mr. Doogan and the right to anonymous free speech.


I feel strangely exposed and fascinated that someone is actually visiting this place other than me. However, Gerbeel Haamster, if and when I find out we know each other: beware! I will be forced to buy you a beer for being able to state an idea and write coherently about it. We are the last of a dying race (refer to obituary for journalism posted earlier in this blog).

An Email to AK Representative Mike Doogan

Dear Politician Mike Doogan:

I was going to start an anonymous blog about issues relating to mental health, parenting, and politics. But now I see my concerns about being outed and therefore at risk to lose my job, relationships, and my good standing in my community are well-founded.

Anonymity is a double-edged sword. Astro-turfing is unethical. Trying to discuss high-risk issues while wearing a scarf to protect my identity is not. By publicizing the name of the AK Mudflats author, you have guaranteed this woman will suffer. You had the legitimacy and sanctioning of the Anchorate Daily News to share your opinions and get paid to do it. You made that contract with the public from a position of privilege and safety. Many of us don’t enjoy those same luxuries.

I could lose my job for writing about volatile issues. So, I stay silent as do so many others. AK Mudlflats just didn’t want to be a target in a conservative, let’s-throw-water-on-war-protesting-old-ladies-in-Soldotna world. Congratulations. What a legacy you leave. Creating fear for those who would share an opinion in an environment guaranteed to be hostile.

Should a woman protesting the Taliban be forced to put her face, name, and phone number on her subversive blog? I guess that would be ethical and prove she wasn’t an astro-turfing minion. But then, the debate would be short-lived, as she would be killed by her family in the most brutal, incomprehensible way possible.

Your morals are self-serving and your perspective narcissistic. Your ethics are fluid according to your politics of the moment.

Anonymous voices of opposition save lives and encourage discussion. It is one of the most democratic (and safe) ways of overturning cruelty and injustice. Thanks for shutting the door. I am sure our own Alaskan politico-jihadists who feel that targeting a dissenting opinion with prejudice is a God-given right are very happy with your point of view.

Anonymous – Not anymore. And I am sure [this email] will come back to haunt me. Make sure you save all these emails and keep a log of who to attack next.