I have Madame Hooch hair
I have got to keep my hands out of my hair. I swear I look like Madame Hooch from the Harry Potter movies. She's supposed to look like a falcon or whatever. I just look like I stuck my hand in a socket. Wouldn't so bad if I had the cool magic robes and a broom.
Speaking of magic. I think I watched too many Harry Potters this weekend. I would love to be magic. Not necessarily do magic but know that I could if I wanted. I have these dreams that repeat and repeat themselves. In these dreams I fly. JUst me. No plane no broom just be and the wild blue yonder.
There is a certain way to get off the ground in these dreams. It's the same way each and every time. It isn't as simple as Douglas Adams' advice to 'throw yourself at the ground and miss". This has a certain step a certain thought a certain movement.
Now after dreaming like this for years I finally decided to give it a shot. Yep I was gonna fly around the bathroom. Somehow I actaully half expected this to work and you cannot imagine my disappointment when my feet remained firmly on the floor. Damn this gravity stuff. Would it had hurt anything for it to let go for just a minute. So I can't fly. BUt my head can still spin and this is getting old.
Maybe I'm trying to be a tornado.
As for the rest of my life. NO settlemnt yesterday probably not till Friday and I have done NO Christmas shopping.
Rocco had the vomits last night but unlike when I was sick, I don't love him enough to lick his face clean.
Started thinking about my mother yesterday. Probably because I"m still feeling miserable and memories of her couldn't make me feel much worse. Not sorry that she's dead worse but more like 'How the hell could she DO that tp me' worse. Feeling sorry for myself I suppose. I blame it on the water here in Dizzyland.
QUick quick I need to think of something funny... a christmas memory.
Got it.
Younger son had this great dislike of the Santa Clauses at the Mall. He'd go nowhere near them so it came as a surpise one day when he insited that he wanted to visit Santa. We got in line, creeping slowly forward while I questioned him as to whether he was certain he wanted to do this. He really did. Older son was almost vibrating with his excitement even though he had seen every Santa in every mall while his brother looked on.
It's out turn. Younger son's hand tightens on mine. I hasten to reassure him that he will be ok, that Santa won't Ho Ho Ho and reach for him. That he can go to Santa on his own. Now I said it loud enough for Santa to hear. I caught Santa's eye and he nodded. I thought he understood until younger son went up to him and the idiot boomed HO HO HO and reached out for him.
I swear the hair stood up on younger son's head right before he screamed "NOOOOOOOO" kicked Santa in the shins and took off down the Mall. I ordered older son to stay with Santa and tore off after younger son. Good lord but that little booger could run. I caught him only because my legs were longer, swept him up in my arms and staggered back to Santa.
Older son's face was wet with tears, Santa looked perplexed and the Elf told me that older son had fallen into Santa's lap sobbing and begging Santa to still bring his little brother presents even though younger son kicked him.
Younger son n ever has sat on a Santa's lap. He turned 23 the beginning of the month so I think I'm safe in saying that he probably never will.
Speaking of magic. I think I watched too many Harry Potters this weekend. I would love to be magic. Not necessarily do magic but know that I could if I wanted. I have these dreams that repeat and repeat themselves. In these dreams I fly. JUst me. No plane no broom just be and the wild blue yonder.
There is a certain way to get off the ground in these dreams. It's the same way each and every time. It isn't as simple as Douglas Adams' advice to 'throw yourself at the ground and miss". This has a certain step a certain thought a certain movement.
Now after dreaming like this for years I finally decided to give it a shot. Yep I was gonna fly around the bathroom. Somehow I actaully half expected this to work and you cannot imagine my disappointment when my feet remained firmly on the floor. Damn this gravity stuff. Would it had hurt anything for it to let go for just a minute. So I can't fly. BUt my head can still spin and this is getting old.
Maybe I'm trying to be a tornado.
As for the rest of my life. NO settlemnt yesterday probably not till Friday and I have done NO Christmas shopping.
Rocco had the vomits last night but unlike when I was sick, I don't love him enough to lick his face clean.
Started thinking about my mother yesterday. Probably because I"m still feeling miserable and memories of her couldn't make me feel much worse. Not sorry that she's dead worse but more like 'How the hell could she DO that tp me' worse. Feeling sorry for myself I suppose. I blame it on the water here in Dizzyland.
QUick quick I need to think of something funny... a christmas memory.
Got it.
Younger son had this great dislike of the Santa Clauses at the Mall. He'd go nowhere near them so it came as a surpise one day when he insited that he wanted to visit Santa. We got in line, creeping slowly forward while I questioned him as to whether he was certain he wanted to do this. He really did. Older son was almost vibrating with his excitement even though he had seen every Santa in every mall while his brother looked on.
It's out turn. Younger son's hand tightens on mine. I hasten to reassure him that he will be ok, that Santa won't Ho Ho Ho and reach for him. That he can go to Santa on his own. Now I said it loud enough for Santa to hear. I caught Santa's eye and he nodded. I thought he understood until younger son went up to him and the idiot boomed HO HO HO and reached out for him.
I swear the hair stood up on younger son's head right before he screamed "NOOOOOOOO" kicked Santa in the shins and took off down the Mall. I ordered older son to stay with Santa and tore off after younger son. Good lord but that little booger could run. I caught him only because my legs were longer, swept him up in my arms and staggered back to Santa.
Older son's face was wet with tears, Santa looked perplexed and the Elf told me that older son had fallen into Santa's lap sobbing and begging Santa to still bring his little brother presents even though younger son kicked him.
Younger son n ever has sat on a Santa's lap. He turned 23 the beginning of the month so I think I'm safe in saying that he probably never will.
posted by ---me--- at Tuesday, December 13, 2005
1 Comments:
I no know, dear. I was 25 years old and had my picture taken on Santa's lap to send in my Christmas Cards that year.
Poor Santa...If you saw me you'd know that when I got off him, he thought "what a load off my lap"!
Anyway the pictures were great, and everyone tells me they still have them, almost 25 years later......
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