I'm a Junkie.

The signs - you know you should stop, maybe make dinner or put the kids to bed. So you put it off and then when you get around to doing all the things you should be doing all you can think about is when you can get back to your little addiction. How much longer? Can you take it? Your sleeping suffers because you stay up feeding your craving almost until it's time to wake up. Then when you finally turn off the light to get an hour or two of sleep your mind is too busy to let you rest. At last you see it affecting your family. "What are you doing, Mom?. . .Oh, never mind." And your husband comes home from work wearing vampire fangs just to get your attention. (And does he ever - get your attention, I mean.)



So, I stubbornly refused to touch any of the Twilight books for, hmm, years, I guess. I felt it must be a Buffy rip-off and I was far too loyal a fan of the Buffy / Angel love story (and Joss Whedon) to fall for another lesser vampire storyline. I did the same thing with the Harry Potter mania - Scoffed at the fanatics waiting in droves for their pre-ordered copies of the latest wizarding installment, and then I completely sold out. (Not that that had anything to do with Buffy. ) I read LITERATURE, not pulp-fiction. Sheesh. What a faker I am. As much as I love plod slowly through a multi-layered piece of 'serious ' literature, have I ever been so engrossed that I would literally fly through thousands of pages within a few days because I could-not-put-it-down? (I can stop anytime I want, I swear.) I don't think so. (Well, at least not when a grade hasn't been attached to the reading in some way.)

Bottom line - you can count me among one of the Twilight groupies now. (Dang-it.) Edward's team, of course. Now that the reading frenzy is over though, I'm a little lost. I went through the entire series in a week - Thanksgiving week at that. Now I have that strange feeling of surreal loss that you get when you close the last chapter of the world you've been escaping to and you're just not quite ready to let it go. Whatever shall I do, Wherever shall I go? To the laundry room, I guess.

I'd like to thank the little people

A couple of things I have to get off my chest and I have no time right now - (my three bottomless pits think they're hungry. . .and they think I should take care of that).

1. Dear Juice and Java girls - I love you, not in a freaky way, please don't be scared because I need you. You are so much better than the scary juice nazis that were serving bliss up about, hmm, 14 or 15 years ago. . . when my reliance on you began. Thank you so much for picking my name in your monthly drink-card giveaway. You have made an awful, terrible, horrible couple of days much better. You make the rockin' world go round.

2. Dear Tyler - I love you too, maybe in a freaky way, but please don't be scared, because I need you more than chocolate. BUT my blog obsession does not make me Doogie Houser. I'm sorry, but it just doesn't. AND, now that you've said that, I'm scared that the creepy little Italian Doogie friend is going to crawl in my window as I type and mess up my conclusion.

That's all for now. Must find something to cook. Oh, even worse - the boys have just sounded the 'Foghorn is Loose' alarm. Dang it. Maybe we should have Rooster for dinner.

Stupid Country Music

I'm irritable and grouchy today. Too many horses doing horse things - like getting caught up their ropes and nearly spearing themselves on fence-posts, or getting loose and running just far enough away from me to keep me running after them like some ridiculous cartoon. Too many kids doing kid things - like drawing on the carpet with sidewalk chalk, or poking each other in the eyes with their Harry Potter wands (okay, the wands are actually de-pointed skewers - and I realize now that sounds even worse. . .). Too many clueless drivers period. Honestly, can we look, or possibly SIGNAL before trying to run me off the road. Once in high school a guy-friend of mine made a comment to me that went something like this: "Dude, did you really just check your blind-spot? Chicks never check their blind-spot". Should I have been offended? Maybe, if I was the type, which I'm not. I wasn't, but that's beside the point. What is the point? The point is I started the day off a little cranky.
THEN, I turned the radio on in the car. You know what was on it? Country. Seriously. Country. This has happened occasionally. . . since I've been married. I don't understand it AT ALL. Tyler isn't a little bit country, he's more a little bit rock -n- roll, or at least something other than country. Nevertheless, the country thing happens. According to Tyler I'm a music snob because I don't like it. So be it then. No offense to all you country-loving bumpkins out there. BUT . . . country sucks. Really, really, really. There is no art to it whatsoever - at least in the new breed. Lyrics should be lyrical, a poem set to music, if you will. It doesn't have to be beautiful. That's not what I'm saying. Let's just try and write a lyric that differs somewhat from your everyday speech. Grrr.
Okay then, I'm done. Feeling much better. Thanks.