Monday, November 22, 2010
A lot of other bloggers and fb'ers are listing something they're thankful for each day of this month, or just this week. Over here at Seckmans Say What, it ain't gonna work.
Nobody puts Baby in a corner.
Or, realistically, I just don't get on here every day. If I shared my wit and hilarious-ness with you ever day, what would be left for the voices in my head?
So, here's a list of things I'm thankful for, in no specific order:
1. Elliot's preschool/daycares. I'm thankful to pay for them to raise him over these last almost 4 years... otherwise he'd still be a knuckle-dragging caveman. Now, he uses utensils at meals and sings the alphabet and sometimes that "Quarter After One" song.
2. The Internets and Webs. How else would I research anything? Keep up with the Newman family? Self-diagnose my sicknesses? Find new recipes using bacon and cheese? Find crafty ideas and bloggy BFFs? Find out about crazy projects like the Public Isolation Project? Know what those zany celebrities are up to?
3. Fred. He does everything, and I do mean everything from laundry, to oil changes to cooking dinner, dishes and scrubbing toilets. He schedules the DVR (which, DVRs are like GOLD to me), tells me about new music and keeps me laughing. Most days. And he lets me out for weekends to Denver or to Craft my brains out without any major guilt trips. Also, he's mostly in charge of pick up and drop off to E's preschool.
(Sidenote: Fred is likely NOT thankful for his lazy wife.)
(Sidenote 2: Why is he still with me? Jeez.)
4. Thanksgiving. It may be weird, but it is my favorite holiday. I love that there's no expectation of the perfect gift or the stress of money and who we should or shouldn't buy for and knowing, already, that YET AGAIN we won't end up getting Christmas cards sent out. I love white turkey meat, mashed taters and a slab of jellied cranberry from the can with a tub of Cool Whip and a slice of pie for dessert (am I right, Bill?).
(Note to Self: Find elastic-waisted "Thanksgiving Pants")
5. Sommer, my hair girl. I'm thankful that she doesn't yell at me (to my face anyway) when I go for an average of 5 months between haircuts, causing her to lop off inches at a time and likely getting carpal tunnel. I'm also thankful that her cuts are so awesome that it doesn't look terrible after those 5 months. (Or should I be thankful that I at least think that?)
6. Paying Employment. Without it, Elliot wouldn't have his fabulous preschool, we wouldn't have our new house and we wouldn't have gone to Disney World earlier this year. We wouldn't frequent Lazlo's (hi Eric and Tatum!) or have a sense of security in knowing that bills can get paid, we could get new tires when we needed them and there is always something to eat in our house. We have fitting shoes, warm coats and some left over change to toss at Elliot's College Savings Plan.
Life is good.
Sunday, November 21, 2010
So I went to a little dealy called "Get the Craft OUT Yo House" this weekend at a local bed and breakfast. Local crafter Kait put this event together and while it was the second one, it was my first.
Because Kait thanked me publicly (read: facebook) for flaking out on the first, I'll have you know that Yes, I totally did. I was paid up and packed and read to go when my good ole anxiety took hold: I don't know anyone! They'll hate me! I've never been here before! What if they hate my craft? ACK I can't do this! And so I shut down and didn't go.
That was SOOO 8 months - and bottles of medication - ago. So I show up, unpack and plug in. Then I realize I forgot some crucial elements at home. More and more show up and soon we have taken over the entire house and everywhere you look are irons, sewing machines, stacks of scrapbook paper, scissors, pencils and even fancy cutting machines.
And that's when the flair comes out.
A shiny little button reading "Craft is my Crack" spent the rest of Saturday on my shirt. It also served as a constant reminder that I missed the first one where (apparently) the flair read "I'm a Crafty MotherF*#%$r." Damn.
I got done what I could get done without my integral pieces and spent the rest of the time enjoying myself and those around me. I helped a friend with her giant wall pieces, I advised a new friend on the wonders of fusible web (in lieu of - get this - puffy paint!) and then cuddled into bed with tired eyes, a sore staple-gun-wielding hand and an aching back.
The next morning, I packed up my half-done projects and headed home.
Not sure if it's an actual sickness or just craft hangover, but I slept all day.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
In a scene pulled straight from jr. high school came my day yesterday. It was one of those too ridiculous to even be taken seriously but I'm still torqued about it kind of days.
And it all boils down to this: if you have a problem with ME, take it up with ME? Seems simple, but it must be incredibly difficult because instead of talking to me (and, honestly, a simple "what?" would've cleared the whole mess up...) you talked to someone who talked to someone who talked to someone who only then talked to me.
This took over a month - which is why I'm laughing so hard AT YOUR EXPENSE. A whole freaking month over something you either didn't hear right or just plain lied about! BWA! HA! HA!
You see, I don't care. I know what I said, and it wasn't what I got fed back to me via this fun little game of telephone. Meanwhile, you've been stewing and talking (and possibly plotting my demise) this whole time while I was completely oblivious and only wondering why you weren't as chatty lately.
Shame on me for not being more paranoid.
What I do care about is how it all went down and how many people between you and me think I'm a total jerk when that is truly not the case. (Well, I can be a jerk but I wasn't in this case.)(No, really, I wasn't.)(Shut it.) I can only wonder who all has this wrong information... and that is what makes me feel sucky.
The best part?
I've been told to drop it.
Stay out of something that I supposedly started?
We are, you know, in Junior High.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Yesterday, Elliot's preschool class was discussing Thanksgiving. Everyone took a turn telling the class what they were thankful for; many said their mother, father or sibling.
"I'm thankful for bacon. I really like bacon."
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Every time I hear the word 'tradition' I think of watching Fiddler on the Roof in my high school senior year English class. And now that I typed that, I am flooded with memories of Ryan sitting behind me (whatever happened to her?) and learning about Melissa's fight with anorexia and wishing I wasn't re-reading Shakespeare (in Nebraska, that was soooo 7th grade). Ryan and I built Hamlet's castle out of Rice Crispy Treats; it was awesome.
There was no point to that, just sharing a memory.
Fred's family has had a long-standing tradition of having popcorn and malts for dinner on an occasional Sunday night ... something I can totally get behind.
So there we were - me, Fred and Elliot (or Mr. Lollipop as he's been demanding to be called lately) - in the basement, huddled under blankets watching Up while we slurped down malts and bowls of popcorn all while Elliot uncontrollably giggled when the house was lifted up in the air by all of those balloons.
Reason 483 I'm happy I married into this family:
"Malts and Popcorn for dinner" tradition
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Stumbled upon this little helping of soul food yesterday.
Learning the rules of language is important, otherwise it can be pretty difficult to communicate effectively. But if you're hung up on perfect form and accuracy you can end up impeding your own creativity and the development of language in general.
Enjoy the video here.
[Edited to add: I found this link via Twitter at @amrucker.]
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
By now all of you should know that I'm much more a Negative Nancy than I'll ever be a Positive Patty but in an effort to even out the Suck-titude of that last post, let's discuss some things that I find to be awesome.
Cake. Whether its birthday, wedding or just because - cake is awesome. I do prefer it in cake form over cup cake and am anxious to try cake balls. Sugar-filled, gritty frosting is best on top of chocolate cake. Or my momma's German Chocolate Cake. She could probably settle WWIII by serving that up. Right, Dad?
Grandma Judy. I don't have any grandparents left and she's a kick-ass one that has taken me in as one of her own. Who else watches Y&R as faithfully as I do?
Flu Shots. I love, love, love that I only have to pay $24 for Elliot to get a shot. What do I love more? That I also have to pay $35 for them to administer it! This, after having to take off time from work just to pick him up from preschool, make it out there in time for their ludicrous appointments, drop him back off at preschool and get back downtown to work.
The word Facetious. (1) joking or jesting, often inappropriately: waggish, (2) meant to be humorous or funny; not serious. Get it? Flu shots aren't awesome? Heh.
The new house. I love the new house for a variety of reasons but my number 1 is my sewing room. Sure, Fred tried to take over a corner of it but I think I have slowly and surely edged him out to where he's hardly in it. But he practically has the basement to himself and the guy has a BEER FRIDGE so don't think he's being too neglected.
Thanksgiving. It is, hands down, my favorite holiday. It's one filled with family and food and no present-buying-and-giving stress. If only Fred's family would serve cranberry sauce from a can, I'd be set.
Consumer Reports. Specifically, the online version. Fred is a huge fan of reviews and research and knows all there is to know about something we want at least a month before we purchase. I like this because I don't have to think or care about it and just trust that CR won't lead him astray. And, it makes me sound smart to my co-workers when I can tell them all about the Whirlpool Cabrio collection.
Elliot. I love that he is not a morning person, just like me. He comes in my room around 6:50 and crawls up in bed and cuddle with me until about 7. (Yes, we both growl at Fred.) Any other time of day, he's shooting at me, killing me, telling me I'm on fire or tying me up 'to jail.'
My blog. Having a place to shart out all of my wisdom and the dumb things that people do is somewhat comforting. And knowing that other people enjoy it as well? That's awesome.
Got anything you think is awesome?
Monday, November 8, 2010
It should be no surprise that we Seckmans can't make decisions ...
I gave Fred the four comments that listed something sucky and assigned each a number. I had him read each and then pick out the one that sucked the most. Truly, a sucky way of doing business because it's not random or weighted with any real measurements of value. His options:
2. The Griswold's
3. Pants Off
His response: I agree with 4 cause I hate bananas although I’d pick 3 hands down were it not for my hatred of bananas.
And here's where the dilemma lies. I LOVE bananas. LOVE LOVE LOVE them. Cut up in my cereal, cut up in my oatmeal, mashed into bread, dipped in chocolate, or just out of the peel. I HEART BANANAS. I cannot vote for someone that hates my favorite food.
So - we have two winners: Brenda and Kait!
I'll be contacting each of you soon.
And what did they win?
A homemade goodie from yours truly (see that coming?).
I've been whipping up these 'mug rugs' lately and just love them. A mug rug is like a fabric coaster, but large enough for your mug and a little snack and/or your spoon. This weekend, I made a matching pair and instead of listing them in my shop, I plan to give one to each of the winners.
Shameless plug: There is ONE mug rug left in my shop right now, so if you want it you better hop over there and snatch it up! There's other cool stuff so feel free to buy everything.
Coming soon: A post of things I think are awesome.
I know, y0u can hardly stand the wait.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
I've been listening to the new Ben Folds cd all week and there's one line in one song that makes me laugh every single time I hear it: Some guy on the 'net thinks I suck, and he should know - he's got his own blog! (Ben Folds, Lonely Avenue "A Working Day")
I have to laugh because I have read some of those bloggers and while I don't entertain the thought that I am one of them, I did decide to come up with a list of things that I think suck.
Here's hoping the library doesn't come after me again.
Why? 'Cause they're still on my list.
Waffles. Who are you trying to kid? You're just a crusty pancake with butter traps and I just hate when I have to stick my knife in there to dig it out.
Geography, as it relates to family. I think it sucks that we have a lot of family and friends living all over our fine country. (Hi Cleveland! Hi South Carolina! Hi Chicago! Hi Georgia! Hi New Mexico! Hi Colorado! Hi Arizona! Hi Florida! Hi Ohio!)
Growing. Hold your horses, I'm not going to complain about being fat. Again. I am, instead, STILL complaining about how my feet grew an entire size while I was pregnant. I'm all for body changes and what not - but really? I had to replace my entire shoe collection.
Politics. Just coming off an election, I am growing to really hate politics. It seems like races aren't even about the candidates and what they stand for any more.
The Chiller. I wish I knew what this actually meant... The vents in our office are blowing out arctic cold air and we were told it's because they haven't "drained the chillers yet" - whaaaa? I've lived in colder climates for most of my 32 years on this planet and this is the first time I've heard of chillers (?) needing drained (?).
The Library. I'm sorry, but you're still on my list for not letting me see what I've read. I do, though, have to give you major kudos (read: hugs and kisses) for getting the eBooks up and going... hello free books for my nook!
Flying. I realize it's that age-old story of one guy ruining it for everyone but come on. Flying is become such a huge and sucky inconvenience that I'm considering driving out to Ohio this summer for a friend's wedding. From paying for the flight and paying more for having a bag to scans and pats and sourpuss workers shuffling us onto planes full of stale air - I'm kind of over you.
Family: Part I. It sucks when members of your family leave too soon and you don't get to know them very well. I haven't had any grandparents for over 10 years and before that I only had one set since I was about 8. I hardly remember them. (But I suppose the silver lining here is that the memories I do have are fun, funny and all mine.) And as much as I would love to believe it won't happen, Elliot won't have very many memories of Great Grandpa Chuck.
Family: Part II. This is for the family member(s) who suck, themselves, so much that you don't want to really be associated with them. I think we've all got those though, don't we?
Mornings. I am not a morning person by nature but it makes it significantly harder when I'm curled up and warm and KNOW that it's freezing outside of my cocoon. Fast forward 15 minutes and it sucks to have to get out of the steaming hot shower knowing it's freezing outside of my fiberglass cocoon. And, I suppose, compounding this is knowing that those darned chillers are still on at work!
Bodily Functions. Specifically, I'm talking to the jackass that pooped on the floor in our office and then built a toilet paper wall around it. What is wrong with you? Now unless I want to go while staring at your fortress of poop-itude, there is only one stall for all 15 or so of us to use.
I'm sure I left some things out that are major league suckers (speaking of major league, it is sucky that the Cubs didn't hire Ryne Sandberg as manager) ... so feel free to add something in the comments!
Maybe... just maybe... the person with the best "I think XYZ sucks because" story will win a prize!!
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Here we are in 2010, a bunch of liberated women no longer the man to help us out. We're liberated! We're strong! We're independent! We don't need no man!
Well, unless there's a bug somewhere near me.
Or, like, the plants need watered and it's a hunnerd degrees.
Or when sumptin' needs fixin' on the car.
The tires on my car have been looking a little sad lately and we've known that they'll need replaced before winter. Thankfully - or not - winter seems to be coming a little later than usual as it's November and still above freezing. So when Fred took my car in for an oil change last week, the guys at Wal-Mart actually did their jobs and measured the tread.
And made Fred sign a waiver. A WAIVER!
This waiver stated that he knows he is sentencing the driver (his wife) to a death drive (get it? like a death march only using a car instead of - ohnevermind.) but doesn't feel like fixing it right now. This way, you see, when I kick it and take 17 of the closest drivers down with me when my front passenger side tire explodes, Wal-Mart will not be held responsible.
Phew. For them.
I thought it was just us... just the lazy ole' Seckmans but after a quick chat this morning I discovered that it seems to be a trait that runs rampant alongside the "husband" gene. For this next story, we shall call her "Kristy" and him "Dahve" to protect their innocence as all characters in my stories are completely (read: not at all) fictationalismed-ized.
Kristy is driving a hand-me-down car from Dahve and he informs her, after months of driving it, that she needs to check the tire periodically as it has a slow leak. Kristy takes it in and they lecture her for driving on a tire with next to no pressure and they were surprised it hadn't blown yet and now that slow leak would need repaired! And Dahve has the audacity to blame her for not checking it, as though she knew it had a leak.
All of this makes me wonder a few things:
1. Do they realize we drive with our lead foot on the highways and interstates and that we could blow a tire at any minute? (BTW, if any coppers are reading this, I'm only kidding and always go 1 mph under the limit.)(Anyone else, not really, I go like 9 over.)
2. Have they recently upped our life insurance policies and are trying to set up an accident? (Co-workers, feel free to chime in here if you know anything.)
Or... 3. Are they just trying to support our independence?
If so, quit it, cause that was soooo 1960's. We're back to needing you for everything and we wear our bras instead of burning them. Except the things we want you to butt out of. You'll figure it out. Because I'll let you know when you're wrong.
I am, after all, an independent woman.