It is time once again!
The Birthday Curse , a Fly on the Wall post! Today, thirteen bloggers are inviting you to catch a glimpse of what you would see if you were a fly on the wall in our homes. Come on in and buzz around my house.
Don’t mind the mess… we live here.
This is the awesome, dramatic, super colorful, sometimes unexplainable, awkward moments that make up our days in the strangely bizarre tight knit group of uniquely puzzling people we’ve created.
Birthdays evoke strong emotions.
I struggled with every part of turning 30 but now at the ripe old age of 36, I could give a damn.
We have become masters at pretending to have this responsible adult thing nailed. We have you all fooled by our slightly graying, middle aged exterior. In reality, we’re still a couple of goofy kids… we just have stuff like smaller humans to raise and car payments to pay.
I had sort of thought I’d grow out of that super awkward stage by now.
Maybe someday we’ll actually feel like grown ups.
Gosh, I hope that doesn’t happen for at least a few more decades. 😉
I may have kicked off this month by trying to convince the Prince that we need to keep bees in the backyard.
I considered begging for bees for my birthday but I didn’t want to associate the birthday curse with my honey shenanigans.
Fresh honey would be absolutely fabulous and they would be happy insects in the vertical garden we’ve been plotting.
He said no.
Actually, it was a fairly concrete hell no, followed by a stern look and suspicious stare.
Seems he’s just so darn hung up on the pesky little fact that I am horribly allergic to those flying honey makers.
Eh, details… details.
“Tomorrow I’m going to rebuild my head in South Central,” The Handsome Prince tells me.
What was that?!
He was running the head from our garage project, to a machine shop that his co-worker uses frequently. Just so happens it was in a notoriously rough area in Los Angeles.
I’m glad he got his head back together again. 😉
I reply: It feels that way but technically after you turn 18, you are legally responsible for yourself. After that, you are only an orphan from a theoretical standpoint.
Kenz: I’m not sure if that really helped. I’m going to look up theoretical, to see if I agree.
Snape was sitting at the end of the hallway singing us the songs of his people, rather loudly.
K pokes her head into my room and whispers, “The cat screams conspiracy theories.”
Seriously?! Thanks for planting that gem in my head.
Now all I can picture is this cat screaming the truth about who really shot JFK, The Philadelphia Project, Roswell, what is really going down on the Great Seal of the United States, Crop Circles and the Bermuda Triangle.
Snape! Stop screaming about Bigfoot, I’m trying to get stuff done here!
Every year something HUGE always catastrophically hits the fan in some ridiculous way, squarely on my birthday, thus “The Birthday Curse”.
Seriously, it even tried to kill me a couple of times.
Would you like to guess how I found out I’m allergic to bees?
Thanks to a birthday brush with death, with a little help from The Birthday Curse and a wayward honey bee long ago. Now, I know it is just a date on the calendar and it has no real power. But if ever there were a date that magnetizes shiitake to it, it is the day of my birth.
Knowing this, I always try to loosely plan a really easy going day that everyone can enjoy.
Everything always comes apart.
No matter how I try, I can not escape the birthday curse it seems.
Since gas is over $4.29 per gallon in California, I have been using the Handsome Prince’s commuter car to run errands on the weekends.
The Prince goes to hand me his keys and issues a warning…
“The driver’s side visor is broken. Totally broken so don’t bother with it. Maybe I’ll get one the next time I go to the junkyard. It’ll be just fine. Might not be the same color but who really cares.”
I slouched down to peer through the small space between under the visor but over the wheel and pondered what spiffy something he was going to be up to now. It is dangerous to let this man near a junkyard or pick-a-part wrecking yard. He is a serious motor head, mechanic and he welds old car parts together to create recycled functional art.
This should be interesting.
When I’m in the kitchen cooking, the kids usually end up hanging out with me.
One particular day, I was working on a sauce and our two youngest kiddos were having a rousing discussion about all the reasons why Hulk’s testicles are not drawn to scale. They were having a very serious discussion about Hulk’s nuts and how they could impact all forms of media. I was standing there stirring my sauce with tears streaming down my face and trying to hold my laughter in.
“The world is just not prepared to handle the gravity of a pair that size.” They decided.
Off they went into the living room and I gasped for air between fits of laughter.
Seriously, the visual.
I was complaining about how much gas prices were gouging our carefully crafted budget, to the Prince.
“I just wish that my truck ran on happy thoughts. I can totally think eleven happy thoughts per mile! Dude, I’d never run out of gas and I could go everywhere, all the time!” I declared.
The Prince, who was not having a wonderful morning, snapped back, ” My car would totally be going in reverse then.”
It was that moment that my introverted, non-confrontational, bookworm self had the greatest of all inventions!
I may have begged the Handsome Prince to invent such a thing so that human chihuahuas (aka extremely overly anxious, awkward, introverts like me) can see those negative joy suckers, well in advance. Plus, you wouldn’t even believe how much I would save in gas!
A few happy thoughts, some grateful appreciation and off you go! Happily traveling forward towards today’s adventures!
Those who are just mean, malicious and primed to ruin the day for others, their car only runs in reverse.
*Watch out for Ned today. He and Janet were both hauling it in reverse this morning.*
I think it is brilliant!
“This is why you write the fantasy books and I do the cars.”
Yup. Pretty much.
The birthday curse presented in the form of a planned power outage for our neighborhood, from 9am-4pm this year. I took it as a sign that the Universe needed me to unplug for the day.
I was discussing our options, since we keep the house at the very specific temperature at all times, there was a slight concern about the comfort level of our animals.
You know… its all about the spoiled climate controlled creatures, said the crazy cat lady.
“So what are you going to do?” The Prince asks me.
Absentmindedly I answered, “Set up a fan.”
The Handsome Prince asked if I was serious and started laughing. Then he asked where I planned to plug it into or if I would be running a generator all day.
My brain and my mouth are not always the tightest of pals and frequently work independently from the other.
The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.
“I have a question,” Min states. “Do boats take gas or something?”
Happy thoughts, they run on happy thoughts.
This was the part that I wrote about the plans we made for my birthday.
I was going to manifest this birthday into awesomeness!
But then none of that ended up happening because it literally was raining on my afternoon by the pool, there were rude mountain bikers swarming my favorite hiking trails, I snuggled a yucca plant thanks to rude mountain bikers, I got a free piercing from my new yucca friend, the power was out until 6:30pm, they had my whole street blocked off for electrical work, our bedroom VCR died when the power was restored and it unexpectedly took me 2 hours to shell and prepare the pounds of shrimp I was making for dinner. By the time I finally had dinner on the table I couldn’t even bring myself to eat even a bite.
I am really okay with never seeing or smelling shrimp again.
Then I badly pulled a muscle in my chest, in such a freakish way.
You guys! Who breaks their boob?!
Well, beside me.
It hurt so dang bad, I actually thought for a second that I was having a heart attack.
I’m walking around holding my chest in a reverse flag salute position. It is ridiculous!
This was not my finest day, nor my best laid plans.
“What are you doing?” Luc asks, watching me walk out the back door with raw chicken breasts and a mallet.
“I’m just beating my chicken,” I answered.
Naturally, Luc starts laughing.
Two heads popped up over the fence and I waved to my noisy neighbors with my mallet, mumbling something about getting dinner started.
Sheesh! A gal can’t whack her chicken in peace, around here.
Kenz struggles with migraines and the first week of last month she had a particular horrendous string of consecutive days with one migraine after another.
This was triggered by a pre-diabetic condition and seasonal allergies.
When nothing else was helping, I begged her to commit to consistently taking Plexus for the month.
She is approved to take the Triplex- Slim, ProBio5, BioCleanse, plus our X-Factor vitamin.
That girl has never missed a day of Plexus since.
She also has not had one migraine, her skin has cleared up, her blood sugars are in control and she feels so much better.
She is hitting the hiking trails again with me in the mornings!
It is crazy what can happen when your body has the right building blocks to create a healthy balance! Unfortunately, sometimes it takes a bit of a scare to really be ready to listen and make positive changes.
“Have you noticed that the word amalgamation isn’t used often enough? It is such an interesting, fun word to say,” I tell my Handsome Prince one night.
He just stares at me, blankly.
“Amalgamation really is an awesome word. Kinda rolls off the tongue. uh-mal-guh–mey-shuh n,” I continued rather dramatically.
He is now starting to look at me like I sprouted purple polka dotted horns.
“You REALLY need to stop reading the dictionary again. It’s freaky,” was his reply.
“Well, that conversation created an abysmal amalgamation,” I state defiantly.
I got was a world class eye roll.
It must be a blast to be married to me. 😉
I tell people to stay away from fast food.
I must confess… I went through the drive-thru on my birthday.
I was totally hangry. Angry + Hungry = not good things.
I got a chicken sandwich with no mayo.
The birthday curse stepped in and kept me eating according to my goals.
What I got was mayo, lettuce and bun.
Someone swiped my mini Ben and Jerry’s ice cream from the freezer.
That was the final straw that broke my hump day.
I totally shower cried over that schnitzel.
…because I’m really 6 and irrational shower crying over frozen flavored breast milk of another species makes total sense.
I am officially the biggest goober!
I popped into the local convenience mart and my favorite employee was behind the counter.
He waves and gives me thumbs up while telling me that my bacon chicken looks fantastic.
I froze for a second… How the hell does he know what I made for dinner?
My brain went from happy hellos to OMG stalker in less than 6 seconds.
Then he added… “You know, that recipe on your blog.”
It doesn’t happen often but when my blog world intersects with my daily life, I apparently get even more super awkward than normal.
Quick! You better buzz off for a peek into some other homes before the birthday curse rubs off on you too:
http://www.BakingInATornado.com Baking In A Tornado
http://spatulasonparade.blogspot.com/ Spatulas on Parade
http://followmehome.shellybean.com Follow me home
http://www.menopausalmom.com/ Menopausal Mother
http://batteredhope.blogspot.com Never Ever Give Up Hope
http://themomisodes.com The Momisodes
http://www.someoneelsesgenius.com Someone Else’s Genius
http://www.angelaweight.com Sanity Waiting to Happen
http://www.southernbellecharm.com Southern Belle Charm
http://dinoheromommy.com/ Dinosaur Superhero Mommy
http://eileensperpetuallybusy.blogspot.com Eileen’s Perpetually Busy
http://www.angrivatedmom.wordpress.com/ The Angrivated Mom