Looking back on 2011.

So it's getting disgustingly close to the end of the 2011, and although I'm giving 2012 the stink-eye it's a glare that is tempered with a tiny glint of hope. Next year will bring a lot of "firsts" for me, mostly because of The Hubby's new and exciting career choice. And although it's terrifying and more than a little stressful to be facing all these changes, I truly am excited. Now it's time for me to put up or shut up... Am I the super-tough, badass, independent babe I claim to be? Or am I simply the "baby ox" I am jokingly referred to as ("I'm strong as an ox!" "Pssh, maybe a baby ox, probably a fetal ox.")? We're about to find out in 2012, y'all!

Like many others more talented than myself, I thought I'd figure out my "Best Of" blog posts this year. Here goes.

In January I talked one of my favorite people, a mother of a gorgeous little girl, into starting up a blog. Her love for her daughter and for a more researched brand of motherhood spoke to me, even though I have no children myself. (The furry four-legged kind don't count in this situation.) I thought she would be well-served to take her passion onto a more open forum than Facebook, and hoped she'd be able to inspire others as she'd inspired me. Unfortunately she hasn't posted much beyond those first couple posts, but hey--they rocked! She's got a lot on her plate right now, but my fingers are crossed that one day she'll work around to it and put that passion out there for a wider audience.

In February I decided to stake my own claim in a tiny slice of the blogosphere, although my start was less than impressive. A few days later, though, I finally got around to why I needed to start blogging. I needed something to help me work out all the changes in my life, and to chronicle my "journey" back to (hopefully) some semblance of sanity and confidence.

In March, I was astounded at the pages Google Reader suggested I visit... at least until I visited them. I profusely cursed St. Patrick's Day, and shook my head in amazement at a couple awesome but poorly-thought-out purchases. I seemed to be off to a pretty good start. The posts weren't coming daily, or even regularly for that matter, but I was doing pretty well at not letting it sit un-updated for long.

In April I continued on my awesome-ish posting streak, sharing a horrible Mean Woman Week story (but also a poem!), gave my few readers a taste of my personal brand of depression, introduced Teh Kittehs, and established a possible menu for the imaginary restaurant that I will never start because I have no interest in owning a restaurant or in cooking.

Then tragedy struck. My home was damaged in a horrible flash flood, leading to about a week solid of nothing but chaos. It was close to the end of the month, and I didn't get the chance to post for a while, so...

May's posts started out with a hell of a bang. I had no idea what was going to happen next, all I knew was that suddenly we were essentially homeless.  There was very little posting that month, because there was a whole lot of stress, but I did manage to sneak in a post that was fun to write.

June only brought a couple of posts, but one of them is one of my absolute favorite posts (of mine, anyway), because I firmly believe that you should treat people how you want to be treated. Being a dick ultimately gets you nowhere, and you'll most likely be angry the majority of your life if you keep putting that out into the world. I'm a rant-er, and this was prime rant material, although I personally think that it has a positive message!!

July brought another one of my thoughtful posts, where I express my amazement that people continue to believe in my ability to do anything, ever. Fake it 'til you make it is damn right.

August didn't bring a lot of posts, because it was kind of crazy and I wasn't feeling so chipper. I'll just post those links here without a lot of description (there were only three), because they all meant something different to me. Which do you like best, if any?

• The power of "no."
• My inner emo-kid emerges.
• Scratch that.

About halfway through September I finally started picking up steam again, post-wise, but there were only a couple of gems in there... I finally introduced myself using my actual name rather than using "The ZB," which is a small step toward being more comfortable with blogging but is a step nonetheless. I also told the nail-biting and hilarious "tail" of our juggabuttin' kitty getting stuck in the attic. That was one of the high points of my year, once I regained the ability to breathe and laugh.

In October we mourned the loss of a most fabulous fowl, whose side-of-the-road strut will not soon be forgotten. I also mourned the loss of my original Kindle, but soon My Dear Replacement Kindle took its place of permanent attachment to my hands.

In November I broke the news of The Hubby's enlistment, and later I wrote about my feeling stuck in limbo while waiting for everything in my life to come together.

December has been another crazy month. I've just left my retail job to go back to the factory job, albeit at a higher pay rate and in a position without a time limit. Yay! But there's been some bumps along the way, some super busy days and some super crazy days, and even an exhausted but somewhat desperate letter to Santa.

This has truly been a helluva year, and I'm so glad it's over. My first *calendar* year of blogging has been a doozy. Hopefully 2012 will be a better, happier brand of crazy.

Things that make me smile.

The past couple weeks I've felt myself sinking again, despite a wonderful weekend getaway with my friends, progress being made on my house, and a relatively easy retail job. I feel like things are looking up, but for whatever reason I am struggling to feel anything but hollow and disconnected. Sometimes I feel destructive, too, but that's not exactly lending anything helpful to the situation.

I thought I'd write about some things that make me smile, as a reminder to myself that there ARE things out there that are good and happy-making.  They may be little things, but isn't a day pretty much built on the filler we call "little things"? If every instant consisted of major events I think we'd all be insane. So here's to the little things...

• When someone in line in front of me hands me a coupon that they hadn't been able to use.
• When I'm trying to pull out onto a busy street and someone leaves a gap so I can get out.
• Or even better, when I have to make a left turn onto a typically busy street--and there's no traffic.
• When I hear from a friend I haven't heard from in a while, even if it's just a text or a "Hey" on Facebook, or a link to an article they think I might like.
• Days when the weather is *perfect* and I'm actually able to enjoy it. Even if it's just for a little while.
• Hearing a kid laughing. Extra points if it's because their parents are goofing around with them and don't care if it makes them look stupid in public.
• Meeting random people with a sense of humor, who appreciate yours.
• Being complimented in a random (but non-creepy) way by strangers.
• That first drink of soda after you haven't had one for a while. Even when for me, "for a while" is just a day or two.
• When "Bohemian Rhapsody" comes on the radio. 

There's some of mine... What makes you smile?

My inner emo-kid emerges.

You can love your child and not see pain.
You can love your child and not see their happiness.
You can love your child and not see dysfunction.
You can love your child and not see their dreams.
You can love your child and not see their feelings.
You can love your child and not see their talents.
You can love your child and not see their fears.
You can love your child and not see they are being abused or bullied.
You can love your child and not see their interests.
You can love your child and hate the things they do.
You can love your child and not see the pressure they are under, by you or their peers.
You can love your child and not see the difficulty they have reading, or writing, or hearing, or seeing, or  speaking.
You can love your child and not see disability.
You can love your child and not see that how drastically your actions are affecting them, negatively OR positively.
You can love your child and not see they feel abandoned or neglected.
You can love your child and not see their affection for you.
You can love your child and not see mental illness or addiction.
You can love your child and not see that they are separate from you.
You can love your child and not see what it is that really makes them wonderful.
You can love your child and not see their vulnerability.
You can love your child and not see their strength.

What I'm trying to say here is that you can love your child and not see beyond your own hopes, dreams, expectations, and fears for them. What I'm trying to say here is that no parent is even close to perfect, and neither is any child. What I'm trying to say here is that it is okay to mess up, whether you're someone's parent, or child, or both.

But what I'm really trying to say is that while it can be difficult to see beyond your own hopes, dreams, expectations, and fears for your kids, it is absolutely imperative that you do. "Different" from what you hoped they'd be is neither more nor less than you hoped they'd be; it is merely different. You are a tremendous influence on their lives, but by no means are you their only influence. The way you thought or hoped their life would go does not matter nearly as much as what actually happens, and how you handle it together.

This is not an example of "good" writing.

Sorry I've been more or less M.I.A. the last few days... But I promise, it's not just you, Dear Blog. I have also been neglecting Facebook, Twitter (not that Twitter gets that much attention from me, anyway...), emails, the other blogs I follow, and sleep. Been reading on my Kindle like cuh-RAZY though. Had a wonderful weekend, where I watched one of my best friends get married (SQUEE!) and got to spend time with my nephew, which I haven't gotten to do in a while due to the craziness of the work schedule. This honestly made the *second* time I've actually seen the child in person since he was born a couple of months ago. I'm a horrible aunt. Hopefully I'll get better at it, but my job apparently hasn't gotten the memo. Neither has my crushing lack of interest in anything other than the pursuit of sleep, despite my complete inability to actually do so. On that note, though, I have a doctor's appointment in a couple hours! Hooray for medication!

The main purpose of this post, however, is to get a few things off my chest. These are some things about me that may be helpful to know if you plan on spending any time around me. It may also clarify things for those of you who already DO spend lots of time around me, as if you didn't already know it. Also, this is not exactly a happy post, as there have been quite a few people to really tick me off lately for a multitude of reasons. Generally there are only a couple kinds of people that have the ability to get me ranting. But this list does start off on a positive note.

1. I *love* my friends. I love the uniqueness of the individual relationships, whether it's quirky shared interests/dislikes, love/hate of the same kind of books/movies/music, chatting about family, deep philosophical discussions, the tons of laughs, an established Mutual Admiration Society, or any combination of the above. Even if a friend does something a little "questionable" on occasion, and we all know that happens, I will still defend them, respect them, support them, and love them without reservation. I hope they would do the same for me.
2. I can be a little chilly at times. I don't mean the "grab a sweater" kind, either. I enjoy and desperately need lots of personal space and time, and need to be able to disengage from social situations frequently. This may look like I'm shutting down a little, but I'm just needing to decompress before I can start getting involved again. I hate large gatherings, and I also hate to appear rude. So at times I will totally flake out on parties and events, because the thought of feeling or even *looking* like I'm uncomfortable or anxious causes me anxiety. I hate this about myself, because I know that I'm missing out on stuff, and that there's a good chance I'd be just fine. Then there's that "but", though. For this, I apologize, because I know it may seem like I'm uninterested or careless.
3. However, I am NOT easily impressed. If you are always talking about your "connections" or all the people you "know," or if you totally, honestly believe that you are the most in-demand individual when it comes to whatever and your ego is large enough to require its own room, then yes, I am uninterested. I do not care. I do not feel bad about not being interested in all the names you drop, I do not feel bad about NOT being impressed. I am NOT impressed by people with no skill other than using the skills of others to get yourself things you don't deserve or into places you don't deserve to be. Like your job. Trust me, I'm nowhere near as impressed with you as you are.
4. I. Hate. Drama. I hate drama. I hate it when someone gets pissed off because someone "spoke to them wrong" (note, this is usually the kind of person mentioned in #3, and it's almost *always* an overreaction due to over-inflated sense of self-importance) and talks about how they "REALLY DON'T APPRECIATE THAT KIND OF TREATMENT, THEY SHOULDN'T HAVE TO PUT UP WITH THAT, AND THEY'RE GOING TO TRY REALLY HARD TO KEEP THEIR COOL. So they're just gonna forget about it, because it's bullshit and it just ain't worth their time. And then they talk about it the rest of the fucking night, to everyone they talk to. And yes, they would say that in all caps, too. It's that obnoxious.
5. I. Hate. Liars. I hate people who cannot mind their own business, and where factual information is lacking they decide to insert their own wild conjecture. I think those people should go fuck themselves, and not try to hurt me or my friends. Because you know what? I wouldn't do that to you, and I don't think anyone that I'M friends with would either. I think you're a total ass hat, but no matter what I think of you, I would stick to the truth and what I know for sure when speaking of you to others. Your actions speak for themselves. As do mine. I can be honest while keeping it classy. You might even think I was complimenting you for your massive skillz in being an ass hat.
6. I am not good at confrontations. I am much more a delete-you-from-my-life-without-comment-even-though-I-soooooo-want-to-say-something kind of person, because *I* was raised to believe that if you can't say something nice to someone, it's best to keep your damn mouth shut.
7. I am not good at numbered lists.
8. I do have more ideas for blog posts, and someday soon may even post them. I promise I'm not always such an angry person.
9. I should have stopped at #8. Or #1.
10. But I'm pretty sure that if you have a numbered list it's supposed to go to 10. I may regret this later.

   

If.

IF I were to open a restaurant (Never happening.), here would be some of the items listed on the menu.

• "The Most Amazing Dish Ever": If you ask what it is, you don't get to order it.
• "Something Really Awesome, If You're Into Sandwiches"
• "The SURPRISE! Appetizer Platter": Assorted meats, cheeses and vegetables of similar sizes and shapes dipped in batter and fried, all on one plate.
• "Soup! You'll Have What We Have." No substitutions.
• "Random Meat On A Stick": We promise it's most likely safe.
• "The Heartstopper": Don't worry... It's JUST a burger... We swear. ["OHMYGAWDDIDTHATJUSTMOVE??"]
• "Roasted Squirrel Even Better Than Your Grandma Used To Make"
• "All Day Bacon." Includes a glass of lemonade with just a *hint* of bacon, and free refills. [Update: Imagine my horror when I discovered Denny's Bacon Sundae]

The name of the restaurant would most likely be "Questions." I think it has a nice ring to it, don't you? By the way, if you steal this idea, I will hunt you down, paper your house with pages from War And Peace, and sit next to your windows with a stereo blasting Rebecca Black's "Friday". All day, every day. Although I might have to hire someone else to do that part of it, because honestly it'd be just as torturous to me. See? You're costing me money.

Huh.

So... been messing around on the computer pretty much all day. Trying to get this blogging thing figured out, but I keep getting sidetracked. I was checking out some of the stuff that Google Reader recommends for me based on what I'm already reading. Some of the recommendations are right up my alley, some not so much... I enjoy quite a few different "genres" of blog topics, so I'm sure poor Google Reader doesn't quite know what to recommend to me.

These were some of the posts that showed up as suggestions today (Note: These are blog/article titles, not the titles of the hosting websites, and you should also most definitely click on them):
Things You Shouldn't Put In Your Vagina
How Pee Helps Us Understand Social Media
Photos of Basset Hounds Running (And yes, it is exactly what it sounds like.)

HOW DID THEY KNOW!?!? I may be in love... There were some truly amazing pages recommended, in any case, so maybe I can try making sharing the awesomeness I come across a semi-regular thing that I do.

However, Reader also assumes I'm interested in blogs about cooking and tech stuff, so I know they are DEFINITELY capable of making errors in judgement.

Recent Thoughts

. . .It's totally not fair how when you're unable to get to sleep all you can think about is how much you need to get to sleep, which leads to higher stress levels and adds to your insomnia.

. . .If I had a pink Vespa, I would name it Princess. Then I would have a Princess Vespa, and people might think twice about wanting to run over it when I would inevitably park it in a parking space for a car when there are clearly-marked spaces provided for motorcycle parking in the damn work parking lot. After all, it's only common courtesy to park in the appropriate space for your mode of transportation, especially when parking your pink Vespa in a car space means someone else has to park way far away from the factory. But "Princess" Vespa might be too much for a would-be Vespa-destroyer to run over, since it may have the power of the Schwartz with it, or at least a fella with a large man-dog ready to defend it's honor at any time.

. . .I really want a pink Vespa now, and I don't even have a deep and abiding love for the color pink.

. . .Lollipops and Popsicles are similar in many ways, and it is not funny for the "Lollipop Guild" song from The Wizard of Oz to pop into your head when you are packing Popsicles into boxes. In fact, it may cause you to yell "FUCK!!" really loudly when you are packing said Popsicles into boxes.

. . .If Hubs went to work at a factory making sweets of whatever sort, could I refer to him as a sugar daddy even if it's totally not regarding finances?

. . .Having Queen's "Bohemian Rhapsody" stuck in your head (or actually hearing it playing if you're lucky...) can always improve your day, or at least the moment.

. . .I love tattooed men...

. . ."I swear I am not here with the sole intention of ruining your goddamn day!!"

. . .On the celebrity-related front:  Wow, Tom Cruise really did ruin use of the word "glib," but it's a pretty funny-sounding word anyway. Also, WTF Charlie Sheen?!

. . .I also thought about situations where "LBVS" (laughing but very serious) would be appropriate. "My sister's daughter was placed in protective custody after she choked on a button that popped off of the male stripper's costume at her 6th birthday party... LBVS." "I think that homeless woman gave me herpes... LBVS." "My 92-year-old grandmother was just killed in a skydiving accident... LBVS." "I thought this was tuna. The can says Chicken of the Sea... so is it chicken? LBVS."

. . .People should not change their names on social networking sites for any reason other than it being legally changed in the real world, too. I almost deleted someone because I thought some random person I didn't know had somehow managed to become a Facebook friend. Also, it's hard to look at profile pics on your phone when you're trying to determine who the hell this strange person is. Let's just say this person went from the initials "L.H." to "J.S." on the profile. No reason, no comment about why.

. . .My panda hat is now named Mortimer. Mortimer the Panda. And he, like "Bohemian Rhapsody," can always improve my mood. That, and saying "That's what she said." Or "So's your face."

Later!