My Fridge is Barren
July 31, 2007 at 3:48 am | In conversations | 22 CommentsThese things happen when you are going on vacation. . .Things like an empty fridge and this text c
onversation:
“My fridge is barren, much like my uterus.”
“Everyone always says that.”
“I am so unoriginal!”
“You’re like five kinds of awesome.”
That last part cheered me up but I was still hungry and left with strange fridge contents. What’s a girl to make when she’s got broccoli, milk, champagne, pesto, butter and some cherries?
Thank goodness for cereal.
(Actual picture of the current state of my fridge.)
(Please note time stamp on this post: 3:45am! No, I am not suffering from insomnia. Quite the contrary. I’d give just about anything to be back in my bed warm and cozy and sleeping next to purring cats but noooooo, I’ve got to get to the airport for our 6:10am flight. Here’s to hoping Finn doesn’t cry. . .and neither do I.)
“He woke up, the room was bare/He didn’t see her anywhere./He told himself he didn’t care, pushed the window open wide,/Felt an emptiness inside to which he just could not relate/Brought on by a simple twist of fate. . .People tell me its a sin/To know and feel too much within./I still believe she was my twin, but I lost the ring./She was born in spring, but I was born too late/Blame it on a simple twist of fate.”-Simple Twist of Fate, Bob Dylan
My Wonder Boy
July 30, 2007 at 6:41 am | In family, sentimentality | 19 Comments
Dear Finnster,
A year ago today, I watched you come into this world. Your brave Mom, intent and strong breathing, breathing, breathing through the contractions and your Dad, so proud and encouraging with tears in his eyes, clutching your Mom’s hand as your Grandma paced with worry on the sidelines. You came into this life surrounded by love. We were all so eager to meet you.
Each day is now filled with your growing. The small things ar
e really big things. You stand up on your own and take tentative steps without holding anyone’s hand. You feed yourself, albeit messily. You use your sign language to communicate. You’ve almost mastered waving. You like to put everything in your mouth. Your sweet laugh, toothy smile, and chubby c
heeks charm and disarm.
You recognize me now. Each time you reach for me my heart smiles. I’ve never known that feeling. Complete and utter adoration. No matter what. Stinky diaper, fussy fit, waking up just when I think I’ve got you finally back to sleep, smearing avocado on my clean shirt- who cares. You have my unending affection, sweet boy. You light up my every day. I wou
ldn’t want to be anywhere but here, watching you grow up.
Happy Birthday Finn! I love you.
Love, Aunt Sizz
“Blackbird singing in the dead of night/Take these broken wings and learn to fly/All your life/You were only waiting for this moment to arise/Blackbird singing in the dead of night/Take these sunken eyes and learn to see/All your life/You were only waiting for this moment to be free. . .” -Blackbird, The Beatles
Rocking & Rolling
July 29, 2007 at 11:12 am | In fun & frolicking, hip to be square | 7 CommentsI had a concert-riffic weekend. Judging from the types of music I saw, you can probably figure I have fairly eclectic taste. I’ve included some videos of each so you can have sample.
Ryan Adams and The Cardinals – Two
Ryan Adams is a musical genius but damn if he didn’t put on a boring show. The ten sentences he uttered were indecipherable and the venue was as hot as Hades. Plus, he started 50 minutes late.
“Memories of you/That I just don’t have right now/I’ll make them up/One cup of wanting you/Two cups of hoping somehow/These things come true/While I’m staring at pictures of you/While I’m staring at pictures of you/Yearning/Longing/Making up memories of you/Making up memories of you/For now.. your picture will do…”-Memories of You, Ryan Adams
Against Me!- Don’t Lose Touch.
These guys rocked the Capitol Hill Block Party. Sometimes I just need a little punk rock. And by sometimes, I mean all the time.
“Please tell me why we couldn’t stay/Don’t let this feeling ever go away/Let this memory forever be inside of me/Through every hour of every day/It’s with the company of these friends/That we drove on through the night/we were carried by the wheels of armageddon./We’re gonna force ourselves to live/Thankful it’s hurt more than we’ve ever felt/It’s just our means to an end. . .” -We Did It All For Don, Against Me!
Spoon- I Turn My Camera On
I was just turned onto the grooves of Spoon. They put on a great show. He doesn’t usually sing in falsetto but this is my sister’s favorite tune. (Shout out Dokey!)
“Things everybody would say/Believing is hard/Believing is art/Things everybody/Should know/The end will come slow/And love breaks your heart. . .” -Believing is Art, Spoon
Back Me Up
July 27, 2007 at 6:38 am | In light bulb moments, love | 18 CommentsI was talking with Ponyboy the other day (as I do most days, thank you gchat). I was sharing a bit of my heart, my grief, my confusion with him (again- as I do most days, thank you Ponyboy*). I don’t know what it is about him & gchat but he’s like my own personal priest and gchat is the confessional. But the point is, he said something that made me sit up and listen. He said, “let those who love you teach you about backing yourself up.”
Ok. I hear that. I could definitely use some of that. I’m a self-saboteur by nature. That doubt creeps in and then the next thing you know I’m wallowing in it. I’m not good enough. I’m not smart enough. I’m not pretty enough. Why doesn’t he love me? I will just give so and so one more chance to show up for me. Blahblahblah.
Blah.
The other day I was having dinner with a couple of girl friends and realized we’re all doing it. We’re all talking ourselves out of believing. The three of us are all single and looking. We’re all smart, engaging, attractive women who ALWAYS doubt ourselves. It’s really just so fucking sad. To talk yourself out of possibility, out of believing you are worthy of being chosen.
I want to be chosen.
Let me rephrase that: I want to be chosen and I want to choose.
Lately I’ve been writing myself letters. I can’t seem to write one to my father but I write at least one a day to myself. It’s all part of my “Be Kinder to Sizzle” plan. When I am in the midst of a minor meltdown or a mini-freak out, I pause and refocus, writing to myself as I would my best friend who at that present moment needs some support. I’m honest with her (her = me). I don’t beat around the bush but I don’t beat her up either. She’s doing the best she can. She’s trying. Everyone needs somebody to back them up.
I look around at the people I surround myself with, how they see me and support me and nudge me towards self-betterment. I can totally do this. I can make a believer out of me.
I just might need some reminding.
(*So his name isn’t really Ponyboy but haven’t you learned by now I attribute nicknames to everyone?)
“Everything that I said I’d do/Like make the world brand new/And take the time for you/I just got lost and slept right through the dawn/And the world spins madly on/I let the day go by/I always say goodbye/I watch the stars from my window sill/The whole world is moving and I’m standing still…” -World Spins Madly On, The Weepies
Sisterly Negotiation
July 26, 2007 at 7:47 am | In conversations, family, travel | 15 CommentsMy sis, nephew and I are going to California for my Mom’s birthday and a family reunion next week. The following is not a fictional account . .
Doke: We need to get an early flight.
Me: How early is early?
Doke: Before 8am.
Me: Both ways?!
Doke: At least one way. It’s easier with Finn.
Me: Oh great, play the kid card.
Doke: That way he will sleep, not scream.
Me: But I might have the opposite reaction.
(Later via text, after she had booked our flights.)
Doke: All that is left are flights leaving at 6:30am. Is that ok?
Me: No it is not ok. But what other choice do we have?
Doke: Ok, our flights leave around 6:30am each way.
Me: I hate you.
It’s not going to be pretty, people.
“I miss the way you sing low/So I can’t hear your voice over/The radio in my car/But you knew every word they sang/You know just the right thing to say when the/Distance rips us farther and farther and farther away/I’ll see you soon. . .”-California, Copeland
Is this a kissing book?
July 25, 2007 at 6:00 am | In fun & frolicking | 47 Comments
Westley. Buttercup. Inigo. Fezzik. The Six Fingered Man.
Tonight. 9:30pm. Marymoor Park.
Inconceivable!
I’m pretty sure everyone has at least one movie where they can quote the film verbatim. For me, “The Princess Bride” is one of those flicks. Please tell me you’ve seen it. If not, our friendship is on perilous ground.
What’s your quotable movie?
“Don’t fit anywhere into my life, but that’s okay/’Cause I think I might be right for you/And because of that, I’m not scared at all/And everyone says I’m crazy/And everyone says I’m a fool/Would you meet me by the water tonight/’Cause I’m ready to break all the rules…” -Meet Me By The Water, Rachel Yamagata
Geeking Out
July 24, 2007 at 6:43 am | In hip to be square | 32 CommentsI don’t like being bad at anything.
I have this unrealistic desire to be automatically good at anything I try. Bowling. Darts. Singing. Yoga. Cooking crepes. Ceramics. Sewing. Love. Poker. You name it, I’ve tried it and probably failed miserably at it. But the thing is, I never dedicate myself to learning it which is to my own detriment. Most of the time I just give up.
Where’s the fun in that?
As far as I know, I’m not a gamer. I do crossword puzzles in pen and maybe, back in 1992 I might have had a slight obsession with Tetris. By slight I mean I played that Game Boy 24-7 and dreamed of Tetris. And of course when I was a kid I had Atari and played Frogger and Q-bert and Pac-Man all the time. Frogger rules. But this weekend I was introduced to the wonderful world of Wii.
It seems I should warn you. If you should ever meet me in a dark alley or say, a boxing ring, I will likely knock you out in a two punch combo. Think: LL Cool J. I’m gonna knock you out. Mama said knock you out. Sure, I almost threw the Wii controller through the wall in my overzealous excitement but the point is no one was injured AND I kicked serious boxing ass. I learned that tennis is not my game in a virtual or real world and that bowling is much more fun when beer is involved.
Guitar Hero II is harder than it looks. I took a year of guitar back when I was ten and let me tell you it did nothing to aide me whatsoever in my quest to bring the Rawk. I massacred “Strutter” (Gene Simmons was pissed) and then proceeded to start over 4 times on “Possum Kingdom” by the Toadies until I could get through the song without being told that I SUCK.
Side Note: Have you ever paid attention to the lyrics of that Possum Kingdom song?! Click that link! It’s so disturbing. I’m thinking the lyrics are saying he is a rapist who has to ask Jesus to help him. He asks her, “Do you wanna die?” over and over. I feel dirty.
In light of my utter ineptitude it appears I’m going to need to practice a lot. Like dedicate myself to the craft. It’s a good thing I don’t have Wii at home or else I’d never get anything accomplished- except for kicking boxing ass and mastering the Rawk!
“You slip your hands inside my pockets/Tell me nothing else would do/Without me, you can’t live and/You slip your heart into my chest/They both become one of the strongest pairs/When strangers come/And darling/This thing that breaks my heart and/Darling/ You break my heart each time you/Darling…” – Darling, Tegan & Sara
I Got Clocked
July 23, 2007 at 6:57 am | In everyday frustrations, spazzing | 25 CommentsYou know how some of you were saying that I might be a bit of a speed demon or a crazy driver in that last post? Um, yeah. About that. . .
I was driving to my sister’s yesterday singing my heart out to Speak Slow by Tegan & Sara, rocking and rolling and going along my merry way when a State Trooper flashed their lights at me.
Shit.
To make a long story short (but still painful), I got clocked going 44 in a 35. The state trooper actually said “clocked” to me which in that moment made me feel like I was in some sort of bad movie. I ended up being cited for my goddamned CA license, being let off with a warning on my speed. I know, ok. I know! I have no good reason except good old fashioned procrastination for not getting my WA license. (Here is where Dumpling will, rightly so, shake his head and try not to say “I told you so!”) Hey, at least I have WA plates. So now, I owe $124 for the ticket AND have to pay $45 to get my WA license.
See kids, procrastination never pays. Nor does speeding. Learn from my mistakes.
The universe is trying to tell me something because in the last two weeks I have had strange bills arrive out of the blue (thank you IRS and American Pathology Lab) and equipment breakdown (thank you DVD player and vacuum).
This blows.
“When your love lets you go you only want love more/even when love was not what you were looking for/when your love lets you go you only want love more/even when love was not what you were looking for/speak slow, tell me love where do we go… ah ah/where do we go… ah ah, where do we go… ah a. . .” -Speak Slow, Tegan and Sara
You Complete Me
July 21, 2007 at 10:12 am | In meme | 21 CommentsLet’s play THE TWENTY “QUESTIONS” MEME as brought to you via Snackie’s blog. (Thanks Hilly for idea!) I’ve listed 20 open-ended sentences below. You, my clever reader, are to finish the sentences with your own answers (made up or the real thing) in the comments. Have fun with it & let it rip.
Sizzle is…..
Sizzle needs…..
Sizzle’s best friend is…..
Sizzle’s cats are named…..
Sizzle smells like…..
Sizzle drives like…..
Sizzle craves……
Sizzle’s favorite TV Show is…..
Sizzle hates the actor whose name is…..
Sizzle’s alcoholic drink of choice is…..
Sizzle’s NON alcoholic drink of choice is…..
Sizzle’s favorite musical artist is…..
Sizzle’s favorite cupcake flavor is…..
Sizzle’s hair is…..
Sizzle’s celebrity crush is…..
Sizzle’s occupation is…..
Sizzle’s favorite book is…..
Sizzle’s favorite color is…..
Sizzle hates…..
Sizzle wishes…..
“I wanna get the girl/I wanna be the hero/I wanna happy ending/I wanna fall in love like they do at the movies…” -Happy Ending, All Right Tokyo
Note To Self
July 20, 2007 at 7:19 am | In fun & frolicking, life lessons | 22 CommentsEvery time I hang out with the Mad Irishman I spend too much money and get too drunk. I might still be drunk right now. At least tipsy.
Can I go back to bed?
No. I have to go shmooze with business types at a Chamber mixer.
And I forgot to wear underwear. At least I brushed my teeth.
Awesome.
UPDATE: While I wouldn’t say I was at my stellar best at the mixer, I managed to a) not fall asleep, b) form at least 10 coherent sentences, c) smile through the hangover haze completely fooling all of them into thinking I did not suffer at the hands of debauchery last night.
“I wanna live/with a cinnamon girl/I could be happy/the rest of my life/With a cinnamon girl” -Cinnamon Girl, Neil Young
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