Adjustment Period

Woot. I'd love to say that I am hating this "break" from all things stressful, but clearly....

Summer Syllabus

My doctor has ordered me to give school a break. After experiencing some more seiztastic fun (which he blames on stress), my meds have been increased, and I am not to return to school until the fall. When I do return, it is not to be through online courses.

So my spring and summer daily life will comprise of the following:

- playing with the kids
- taking pictures
- blogging
- drinking a glass (read: bottle) of wine on the wooden rocker on my front porch at dusk.
- running barefoot through a sprinkler
- taking naps every day with the boys
- taking more pictures
- visiting grandparents
- becoming a lemonade connoisseur
- being pen pals with my long distance sister

This is the last summer we have before Dylan goes to kindergarten, and Jordan goes to preschool. I plan on eating up every minute of it.

Twenty Eight

The annual, weekend-long (*jazz hands*) Birthday Extravaganza (*more jazz hands*) has officially started, although my b'day isn't really until Monday. Last night my mom treated me to a scrumptious dinner at a local grill. I stuffed my belly silly with spring rolls- made with rice paper filled with vegetables, and Bibb salad with sour cherries,Gorgonzola, and toasted, candied walnuts, drizzled with a cherry vinaigrette (very girly). I polished it all off with a chocolate creme brulee.

It's a beautiful thing, no? Amazon makes it soooooooo (hint, hint) easy to purchase something for your favorite wife/mother/friend/family member/neighbor/drinking buddy on their birthday. If nothing on the list suits you, feel free to drop in for a few glass of our house wine and leftovers ('cause I'm not cooking) with me while I watch "Cops" on Saturday night.

More about me Me MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! (sorry, ahem):

Traditional
Pisces Traits

Imaginative and sensitive
Compassionate and kind
Selfless and unworldly
Intuitive and sympathetic

On the dark side....

Escapist and idealistic
Secretive and vague
Weak-willed and easily led

LIKES

• Solitude to dream in
• Mystery in all its guises
• Anything discarded to stay discarded
• The ridiculous
• like to get 'lost'

DISLIKES

• the obvious
• being criticized
• feeling all at sea about something
• know-it-alls
• pedantry

What else happened on March 5th in history:

1770

The Boston Massacre, a pre-Revolutionary incident that grew out of anger towards British troops, occurred. Five anti-British rioters were killed.

1933

In the last free elections in Germany until after World War II, the Nazi Party received 44% of the vote.

1946

Winston Churchill delivered his famous Iron curtain speech, "From Stettin in the Baltic to Trieste in the Adriatic, an Iron Curtain has descended across the continent."

1953

Soviet dictator Josef Stalin died at age 73, after 29 years in power.

1963

Patsy Cline, Cowboy Copas, and Hankshaw Hawkins were killed in a plane crash.

1997

North and South Korean representatives met for the first time in 25 years for peace talks.

Beam me up

Yesterday was my big testing day. I had an EEG and two CT scans. The results came in. As we had all expected, I do have the sexiest brain in all of the state. Unfortunately, due to the gobs of paste (think Elmer's Glue) needed to hold the electrodes to my scalp, my sexy brain and I looked like a freakshow when I left the EEG to go for the CT scans.

The first CT scan was quick and disorientating. For the second one, they pulled me out to inject some kind of radioactive waste to make my veins glow. The nurse warned me that the waste (she called it "contrast") would make me feel like I was flat out peeing my pants. She said that when she went in for her contrast CT scan, it felt like someone was pouring warm water all over her nether-regions. When I came out from the second CT scan, she asked how bad it was. I didn't feel like I had peed myself, and began to question the sanity of pee-the-pants-nurse.

I won't know any results until I see the doc at some point next week. Then I have an appointment with the neurologist at the end of the month.

I know you're asking: "What else could make your week more exciting, Sarah?"

Thanks for asking; I'll tell you too! Tonight I have an appointment to do my (drumroll, please...) Taxes! Tomorrow (more drumrolls.....) an appointment to fill my cavities! Saa-weeet! If only I could round the week off with a good ol' colonoscopy, I'd be set. Pass the wine.

Flossy Flossy

WOOOOOO HOOOOOO! I didn't know about this until just recently. I am so stoked that I've gotten two pics in the paper so far. Obviously I had to black-out our personal info so that my flock of die-hard local fans don't find their way to their master's house. Excuse me, I have to move my exceptionally large head so that I can see the screen to type.

Happy New Year

I have plans for 2007. Odd numbered years are my years. I was born on an odd year, graduated by the skin of my teeth on an odd year, married on an odd year, etc etc...

2007. We're gonna do it up right. Right off the bat. I promise. Penn State had a bowl game at 11:00 on the first, and I was determined to be not hungover to see it. I was good. I swear. I drank LOTS of water, and only enough beer to make me giggle more than normal. I was good.

It was everyone else who wasn't. Do you know what time I finally went to sleep? Three o'clock......the next afternoon. Was I sorry? Nope. I was sober...tired....very tired, but sober and having so much fun watching people go for another beer at eight o'clock in the morning. Animals.

If this is any indication of what the new year will bring, then I'm stoked beyond belief.

I hope you all had a safe, healthy, and happy New Year celebration. 2007, bring it on!

I'd like to thank the Academy

My grandmother has been hounding me for the past few months to enter a picture into our local newspaper's weekly amateur photography section. This week I did. I have a few black and whites that I believe are better pictures, but they instructed me to send in a color photo. To my shock, they chose my picture this week. I didn't even know about it until my mom told me. Then my answering machine quickly filled with people equally as thrilled as I was.

So, I'd just like to thank everyone for their encouragement. Without some gentle pushes, I would have never even seriously considered photography.

It's Friday already?

Sorry about the lack of updates this week. I can't seem to peel the camera off of my eye.

I've just joined a well known area photography club which has an exhibit at an art gallery tonight, and is holding another next month. I am planning on entering some pictures for the show, and want to make sure that I have enough pictures to pick from.

I don't know what I will hear from the jurors in the show, but I thought I'd give it a shot.

Miscellaneous piece of information- Dylan's new favorite song is Michael Jackson's "Bad." We heard it on the radio this morning, and with its lack of sophistication, Dylan was singing along to it in no time. Now all I've been hearing today is "I'm bad, I'm bad. Really really bad. Who's bad?" (include jazz hands.)

Don't Call it a Comeback!

First off, thank you all for sending your sympathy cards, casseroles, and scheming theories about the truth behind the camera. The True Hollywood Story should clear things up for all of you. Until then, you have only my side of the story.

Secondly, I would like to congratulate Mark for taking his debut photo for my blog. After seeing how I sat in the corner and sulked, he thought he would take a picture so I could at least get some relief through blogging. Sweet, eh?

With his motion dectector camera that he uses for hunting, he took this picture of my sweet, little PowerShot A95.

Now, what's a girl to do without her beloved A95? Well, I contacted Canon:

For $100, plus S&H, they could maybe fix it. Maybe.

OR, for $135, they could provide me a new camera (the next model up, they said) if I mail them the A95. The new camera? The (*sparkle, sparkle*) A610!.....only, it's refurbished (not so sparkly).

OR, wait until Christmas to get a new camera, using a disposable for Halloween, Jordan's 2nd, Mark's 30th, and other miscellaneous "things."

The last option was my favorite. Mark agreed, both of us agreeing on the importance of getting a great quality, reliable camera.

So, last night I studied and read up on all the new Canon (I'm loyal) cameras. I went through all of the new "A" series (I would've been happy with the same model if they still sold it), and all of the new "S" series PowerShots. Looking, looking, comparing, comparing...

Then, (dramatic pause) I found her. Oooooh! There she was, not quite an "EOS," and not a simple "Point and Shoot." She was a hybrid mix of lovely qualities with a nice tag.

The (*sparkle, sparkle*) Canon PowerShot S3-IS!!!! (more sparkle, sparkle, sparkle*)

Oh, she was beeauuuutiful. Oh, all the settings! The 12X optical zoom! The 6.0 Mega pixels! The Image Stabilizer! The rotating LCD that was on the A95! The 800 ISO!!!!!!!!!!!

And it's shiny and black, but I'm not all about looks.

I promptly placed it in my bookmarks for Christmas and went to bed with pixels dancing in my head.

This morning, Mark tells me to get it. Yes, it will qualify as my Christmas present, but at least I won't go through separation anxiety for more than required.

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOT!

So, after dragging the kids all over the place for the best price on the camera, and finding all the accessories needed for it, here I sit: the S3 on one side, cup of coffee on the other, keyboard under my fingers, and a full, warm belly (mostly due to the celebratory kielbasa, yum!).

So, I give you the baby's first three images in the photoshow at the top.

Now, some unfinished business. What to do with poor little A95? I cannot bring myself to throw it away. I don't know why, I just can't. The CF memory cards were willed to my sister who owns an identical A95. The batteries were just (as I was writting) willed to Dylan's LeapPad toy. I may give what's left of her empty to the boys so they can play pretend. We do that with our old cell phones too.

I mourned for her.
I stripped her down.
I bought a replacement.
I have let her go.
Helloooooooo S3!

For Monty

I show the boys how its done.

When I was a kid, I used to play soccer. I'll don't know if I was really any good. But, two things I know for sure- I was always the only girl on my team, and I hustled that ball. I know that because my shins burned for the entire week after a game.

I have been on my treadmill (on and off) for a bit now. Lately, I have been running on it religiously. I have a secret wish of running a marathon.

Tuesday night Mark and I took the kids to a park near our house which has a playground, soccer field, and track. Dylan rode his bike around the track while Mark pulled happy-boy, Jordan, around on his toy. I decided to do my daily run at the track that night instead of on the treadmill. Fresh air, beautiful breeze, setting sun. Nice, right?

Perhaps I pushed myself too hard, because today it is pure hell walking up my stairs. Although I have an underpronated stride which may have had something to do with it. Maybe my three-year-old running shoes are to blame. My shins feel like I just went up against Beckham.

There is a 6K run at my college this weekend that I would love to take part in. I thought it was a nice, small run to start with. I fear that it will not happen now. I don't care what the reason is, I'm just pissy that this is not going my way. So, if anyone's looking for me, I'll be stomping my fists and feet on the floor, begging Mark to buy me a new pair of $100 New Balance 901's in a size 7. Ahem. 'scuse me- I mean, icing my legs and counting my blessings.

Oh- the last picture I threw in to show how I used to train for the big games... chasing the chicken. Not really, but name that movie.

Snip it, snip it good.

In case anyone hasn't noticed, I have a section below with different organizations which I have dealt with at some point, thus can recommend to others looking to help a cause. I have just added Locks of Love to the Wholesome Goodness while simultaneously subtracting ten inches of hair off of my head.

Locks of Love is a phenomenal organization that takes donations of hair to make wigs for kids who have lost theirs due to cancer treatments.

If you have long hair and want to do something with it other than watch it swept up into a dust pan, consider donating your hair. One major plus: the hair cut (in participating salons) is free of charge for the donor.

They require a minimum of ten inches. Any color. Male or female. Any texture. Just have it clean, okay?

If you have more money than hair, there are ways to donate financially too.

Check it out if you are so inclined. I am not a pusher of these matters, nor do I need a high five for having my hair cut, so comments for this post are turned off.

Some light reading

Some of you may remember me saying something about my sister coming in.

We decided to make it a memorable week. So, we did what any normal pair of sisters do (Indigo), we got tattoos. We got the same thing, just in different places. While I opted for the inside of my wrist, she went with the back of her neck.


What is it?- you say..

Well, in short, it's a Buddhist mantra, written in Tibetan, meaning:

"The mantra Om Mani Pädme Hum is easy to say yet quite powerful, because it contains the essence of the entire teaching. When you say the first syllable Om it is blessed to help you achieve perfection in the practice of generosity, Ma helps perfect the practice of pure ethics, and Ni helps achieve perfection in the practice of tolerance and patience. Päd, the fourth syllable, helps to achieve perfection of perseverance, Me helps achieve perfection in the practice of concentration, and the final sixth syllable Hum helps achieve perfection in the practice of wisdom." - Gen Rinpoche, Heart Treasure of the Enlightened Ones

Sweet Dreams

I've been having a hard time sleeping as of late. I'll lay down, and a billion things go through my mind. According to many sites, books, people, I should write down what I think about, so that I can think about it at another time. I don't like lead getting on my hands, potentially dirtying up my pillow case, and pen is to permanent for me. So, out of luck, and for your viewing pleasure, I have used my laptop.

• Why can't anyone make any more classic/timeless songs? What makes them so easy to listen to over and over?
• Why was my Business 101 instructor so intrigued by "connectivity?" (Why Home Depot is close to Wal Mart, which is close to Target, etc) Dylan could explain this.
• Why did my Geometry teacher in high school never step in when that senior who was head of softball decided to pick on me randomly? I was a sophomore- he was head coach of the football team.
  
• When it comes to other people's children, I am never "natural" at talking to them. Even with the experience of having two children of my own, I always end up talking about sleighriding or cartoons- nothing memorable.
• Shit, I have to pay my call phone bill tomorrow.
• What the hell am I going to do when I grow up?
• How much money would it cost to rent a dumpster?
• If I won the Powerball, I would buy a Honda Accord, V6, black, four door. Why? Why not an Escalade? A Yukon? Okay, okay, maybe I would get a Yukon. But it wouldn't be flashy.
• I ned to do something with the stainless steel pots and pans I have never used, which are in the back of the end cabinet in my kitchen.
  
• Where is my cell phone? When was the last day I saw it?
• When will we see vehicles that run on something other than gas?
• Why does blue cheese taste so natural with wings?
• Who decides which color a country gets when making a globe?
  
• Remember when Mark and I went to the "Hog Pound" biker bar in Florida?! No...maybe someday. The pictures sure looked like we had fun though.
• Okay, I have to go to sleep now.
  
• Who thought of counting sheep? I bet it was a sheep herder who passed his trick onto his son. After that, it stopped working.
  
• Has Tara Reid never seen pictures/videos of herself? Surely she would've stopped her antics if she had, right?
• How will Penn State do this year? Damn those last two seconds...they were completely ripped off of the Rose Bowl.
• Monday. Definately. I will cut my hair on Monday.
  

So, that's just from last night. Here's hoping that I won't think about them ever again. Now, to make me feel a bit less insane, let me know what your thought obsessions are.

It's mine.

As some of you may have noticed, I have an interest in photography. It all started with the birth of Dylan. I wanted to document his every breath, every tiny movement that this little human being made. I wanted a way to preserve these moments forever. The problem I always ended up having, was that in an entire roll of film, I would have (maybe) one or two keepers. You see, I only had a crappy little 35mm Kodak. It never stopped me from clicking away. I bought my very first (and so far only) digital camera last January.

Obviously I like taking pictures of my kids. Okay, it borders on obsession. I attempt to take the momentous occasions that need documenting- first haircuts, first days of school, and so on. More than that, I am mostly concerned in taking pictures that truly speak of their character. I want someone to look at the picture and instantly understand that very moment, who they are, and understand what's going on. I like to capture both joyous and unfortunate times. I try to take pictures when they are unaware of my presence. They're better when they're raw. Since I have the camera on the all the time, it's easy to do that. When I get "the" picture, I feel like I've made it mine. It was my moment, from my eye, and I can then share it with others, or keep it all to myself forever.

I may take classes at our local college in photography, because I feel constricted. I don't know how to use my camera. I bought a Canon Power Shot A95, and only use two or three of the billion settings it has. I think that if I know more about the camera, design, lighting, composition, and the more technical aspects of photography, I would be able to do so much more. I mean, I think even photography 101 could take me so much further. I don't even know how to edit my pictures after they're taken. I don't know how I feel about that either. It would feel a bit strange for me to fix up a photo and say that I took it.

I have been spending some time looking through Flickr, and am completely impressed with many of the pictures there. I have added the link below, and invite all of you to take a look at the pictures that Flickr has decided have "interestingness" (their word, not mine). Some pictures are obviously taken by professionals, whose technical perfection gets in the way of a potentially good picture. There are also some pictures taken by novices who probably took the picture by accident. Some are simply amazing. In any case, they are really interesting pictures which is the whole point- "interestingness," remember? So, here's your click of the day.

To sleep, perchance to dream

Recurring dreams bother me. I have one that I can't seem to rid of. I am not bothered by the dream itself, but rather because I would rather spend my sleep time dreaming up new things. I just think it's wasteful.

Last night I had one of the dreams again.

I am in a church. More like a cathedral. It has impossibly tall ceilings, thousands of rows of pews, and an elaborate altar. Lining the walls, are antique stained glass windows. The sun beams through all of them. This is strange because normally the sun can only "beam" from one place. Not the case here. There are some people in there; there isn't a staggering amount, but it's not bare either.

As I walk to the front of the cathedral, the sun disappears. The cathedral is very dark. I feel the floor start to move, and see as the floor is now on a 45 degree angle- the altar being on the up end. Suddenly a with appears. She's your typical fairy tale witch, complete with green skin and flying broomstick. I am instantly aware of my job here.

I must kill her. I find a cache of weapons under a pew. I am (strangely) not confused by the fact that there are knives, guns, and numchucks. I pick up a gun first. It seems obvious. This witch is flying, I would have a tough time catching her on foot.

I shoot and miss six times. There are no extra clips with my other weapons. Next, I pick up the knife. I find it incredibly hard to run after her with the floor being at an angle. So, in order to get to her, I must pull myself up to the front of the cathedral, using the pews as leverage. I take one swing at her, and hit her broom- not her. She cackles (because that what green witches do) and starts to run around with great ease. I throw out the knife.

There is now a diabetic sitting in the pew next to where I am standing. I am instantly aware of how I have to kill her.

I reached into the man's bag and took his insulin-filled syringe.

I start to chase this witch all over the place, and realize that I now have a time limit.

Struggle, run, run, struggle, struggle, run....eventually: Boom, I stick her with it.

I never find out if she dies, turns good, or changes into a chocolate Easter smidgen. I wake up at that point every time.

Utterly wasteful.

Go Kiss Someone Else, Jerk

One of my favorite days of the year is January 1st. It may not be this year, however. We have a wedding on New Years Eve. Blech. When will our friends learn to stop ruining our holidays?

Anyway, I've decided to start my resolution list. I've thought about it for quite some time, and really put a lot of effort into it this year. I think it's my best one yet.





Hang onto your seats, kids, 'cause here it is:

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10.

Would you like another slice of Sarah?

I found this from Indigo. Interesting way to look at one's self. Go ahead, take the quiz, then let me know what you are.

You Are Lemon Meringue Pie

You're the perfect combo of sassy and sweet Those who like you have well refined tastes

What Kind of Pie Are You?

Butterteeth

It's so cold out. Yes, I know it's November, but that fact alone doesn't make it any warmer. I am not complaining though, because I would rather this to the humid summer.

Winter makes it easier to hide a couple of extra pounds, and I get to show off my great collection of winter coats. I have a sort of obsession with coats. My favorite right now is my big, white coat.

As much as I love it, it hurts to wear it.

Literally, pain is involved.

With any kind of white apparel, you need to be very careful that your teeth are up to par. White clothing has a way of making your teeth look more like corn on the cob than the pearly whites you thought they were.

I use Crest Whitestrips like crazy in the winter. I mean, I brush, gurgle, occassionally floss, but after hundreds of Cafe Mochas, my teeth start to look like my middle sbhool bus driver's. (And you would understand if you were on bus #38)

My teeth are also insanely sensitive. So after whitestripping the 375 Mochas off of my teeth, they are a bit tender. Anything hot or cold intensifies the tenderness.

Well, we went out last night, and I wore my beautiful white coat. My teeth were quasi-transparent by the time we left for the Veteran's Day services, but I took two Aleve for the pain, and my teeth looked great!

I'm so hot.

Can you believe it? Out? BY MYSELF?! I left the boys for some much needed time away from them.

I love them, but I need time and yada, yada, yada...you all know that I need to get out, no explanations needed, I hope. Mark never argues when I say that I'm going out. The only thing he ever asks is "Are you coming back?"

'nuff said

I left my phone at home (whoops) and got in the car. Please, if something goes wrong, Mark knows what to do...Dylan is right there.

I went to the mall and have a little look at what was new there. I tried the usuals: Old Navy, American Eagle, Penny's, then The Gap. (Note: I stayed clear of Victoria's Secret, if any of you remember that incident.)

At The Gap, I found a cute skirt that I thought I'd try, since it would match the new boots I bought at Target without a good reason. I grabbed a size 8 in two different colors. I got into my changing room and tried 'em on.

Ugh. I didn't wear a very good shopping outfit. I wore my sneakers, which require tying each time I try something on. I also wore my jeans with a crazy belt that needs to be looped through....blah, blah, blah. You get the point.

The very first skirt I put on was too big. Gap is not known for it's consistency in sizing anyway, so I tried on the other. Wooooohoooo! Tell me it's true! I am down to a size 6?

I threw my jeans on, looped the belt, put on my shoes, tied them up, and left the changing room in search of that skirt in the smaller size.

Okay, got them. Also picked up that cute shirt to try on because now I feel skinny.

This time when I went into the changing room, I decided that I would slip the skirt on over my pants, and just pull my pants down to my ankles so I don't have to take off my shoes or the belt, etc.

Oh! It fits! It really does fit! It wasn't just a fabric measurement inconsistency! Oh, I'm so happy! I could just have a party to celebraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.......

At this point in my celebration, I trip over my stupid looped belt which is attached to my jeans around my ankles, stumble forward, and see my own face coming at me at the speed of light. My nose hits the dressing room mirror and immediately starts bleeding. My size 6 ass is sticking straight up in the air, and I am praying that the girl in the room next to me isn't seeing my unflattering, but quite comfortable, pink, striped, Hanes-Her-Way underwear from where she is.

I straightened myself up, put the skirt on its hanger and got my pants on in record time (thanks to my ingenious pants-around-the-ankles-trick). Then I sat in the dressing room for about 20 minutes, holding a baby wipe from my purse on my nose, trying to stop the bleeding.

I ended up buying the skirt when I left that room of terror. Once I got in the car, I went right back home where my idiocies are appreciated.