Monday, June 05, 2006
Not a good sign
It is never a good sign when it is not even 10:00 am, and you need a nap LOLOL. I did not sleep well last night. My featherbed thingy had shifted so I kept losing my pillow and falling off the edge. And Ruby was taking WAY more than her share of my spot. And every time I moved my feet Jasmine would hiss and bite them - what a nasty thing. Lays in MY bed and hisses at me. And DH was grinding his teeth and doing a sort of snork-snore. And....well you get the picture ;). I feel like a bug that has been stepped on, pretty much. Or a used-up dish rag. My brother's birthday (37!) is on the 6th, but we celebrated it last night. He is a landscape nut, so we bought him "a shrubbery" (said in our best Monty Python 'Knights who say Nih!' voice). He got two others (a boxwood and an azalea), and a whole wack of stuff for his Tiki bar. His back yard looks like a resort, I swear. All he needs is a truckload or two of sand. Hey, I'll keep that in mind for next year - tee hee! My parents hosted the dinner, roast pork and beef with all the trimmings. More desserts than we had at Thanksgiving. What ever happened to "birthday cake"? There was birthday pie, birthday flan, and birthday cheesecake. And a peanut butter/chocolate contraption with a cookie crust that my niece made for him (he is a peanut butter fanatic, but we don't get him peanut butter for his birthday - we get it for CHRISTMAS. 1 kg of peanut butter and an industrial sized jar of Cheeze Whiz. Heck, every family needs it's customs). Now. We still celebrate family birthdays. We all get together, sometimes for dinner but sometimes just for dessert. The kids get a chance to play together and we get to visit. Then we plunk candles into something, sing, and make them blow them out to make a wish. You would think that after at LEAST 34 years of practice, we would be able to sing "Happy Birthday" half decent considering we sing it so often. But nope. It's like listening to convicts sing to the warden. I heard zombie's singing in "Shawn of the Dad" that sounded more lively than our group. Yet we insist in doing it. Boggles the mind. *We interrupt this blog for a public service announcment. DD's school just called. She is not feeling well and needs picking up. Normal blogging will return once she is back home and comfy on the couch.* **There. Child is back, in pj's, under snuggly blanket, covered in stuffed animals, and watching Teletubbies of all things LOL. She never liked that show when she was an appropriate age to watch it, but now, sometimes when she is not feeling well, she wants to see it. She says her stomach hurts, and she is pale and sweaty. There have been a few bugs going around her school and in our family so we will see what comes of it.** Birthdays are a funny thing. I don't mind a birthday party per se (after all, that means there are presents right? LOL). People getting together, eating good food, having good fun and all that. But I don't like being reminded that another year has passed. I don't want to grow older. I come from a long line of women that have been dragged kicking and screaming into aging. My grandmother and mother and more than one of my aunts has been known to take to their bed for a week when faced with a 'milestone' birthday. There is a mental block that I have spent a great deal of time and effort building to keep me from knowing what age I am. We do not appreciate people trying to remind me constantly. And pointing out what age I will be next? Not couth, my friend. Not couth at ALL. There were so many things I was supposed to have done by now. Travelled the world. Learned how to whistle properly and do a cart wheel. Become Prime Minister. I haven't opened up my own no-kill animal shelter nor owned a horse. No, I can't possible age another year. I have too much to DO. If you want to know how strongly I feel about the subject, consider that my birthday isn't even until January. Even celebrating somebody ELSE'S birthday is enough to get me going on the birthday rant. Just thinking about it is too much. I'm going to lie down with a cold cloth on my head. Maybe it will help drown out the sound of the Teletubbies.