Seven Sentences for Sunday: The Bitter Betty Edition

1. I want to wear Ashton Kutcher’s pajama bottoms. That is all.
2. With the exception of Katherine Heigl and Jon Bon Jovi, every person in New Year’s Eve was mismatched as a couple. I expected more from Garry Marshall.
3. I found a new treasure with $1.75 Tuesday night movies. The kids and I officially have a date next Tuesday night to see Alvin and the Chipmunks.
4. I hate playing Sam in Words with Friends. He gets 47 points on words like Goo.
5. I might be kicked out of my meetup group because I’m dating the organizer’s ex-boyfriend. Mean girls suck sweaty rhinoceros balls. Big ones.
6. I dreamt of a yellow balloon during my afternoon nap today. I wish I had a dream interpreter on retainer.
7. I remember not that long ago begging for rational thought to come in and give the boot to all the excessive intuitive thought I had going on. I think I swung too far in the opposite direction, as my signs and signals that make living in this universe fun have all but disappeared. I miss the pangs and gasps from unexpected serendipity, even from something as simple as the perfect song on the radio at the perfect moment.

I love you all, some more than others.

Seven Sentences for Sunday: The Weekday Edition

1. My creativity feels like it has been a furnace that has been turned off because winter hasn’t been cold enough to get it going. Now it feels like the pilot light has completely gone out. In an effort to ignite some heat, I’m doing Seven Sentences a Weekday in February.
2. I am honored to be a part of such a prestigious journal, but I do wish I knew what my authors were talking about. These genetics papers make me miss my astrophysics and particle physics of Physical Review D.
3. I woke up this morning having dreamt that I caught Sam kissing his ex-girlfriend as if we weren’t together. Talk about a crap-a-doodle start to the day, even if he was there to reassure me otherwise. Dream interpreters care to take a stab?
4. I am leading my small group at church on Wednesday night and I am supposed to share my story, using three key figures and three key events as a guideline. I am wondering what parts of my story I wish to share with this intimate group.
5. Tomorrow night I am taking myself on a date to see New Year’s Eve with my other boyfriend, Ashton Kutcher. That beard and that long hair make me want to jump his bones…or at least give him a long, strong hug, slipping my hands under his sweater to cop a feel.
6. I bought an elliptical machine off of craigslist for $40. Sam hauled it up three flights of stairs and put it together for me, so now I am guilted into using it so his efforts were not wasted. That and I am still determined to beat him at our weight loss contest, even if I did have a chili dog for dinner.
7. The kids are at Disney World this week and I am only slightly jealous that the girls get to meet the princesses without me. I’m glad they get to experience it, but I do wish I could see their faces light up when Ariel makes an appearance.

I love you all, some more than others.

Seven Sentences for Sunday: The XLVI Edition

1. The Giants won. Which means last year’s tactic of cheering for the quarterback whom I’d rather sleep with resulted in me siding with the losers this year.
2. I loved the Betty White The Voice commercial. That and the dog bribing the dude with Doritos, which was done by a Cincinnatian. Hometown pride. Oh. And the Chevy post-apocalyptic one with the nod to Zombieland with the Twinkies. Pop culture brilliance.
3. Super Bowl parties are fun. The food is great. The company is great. The host is great. If only it wasn’t on a Sunday.
4. No more football for eight months. The season always seems too short to me.
5. Madonna: I wouldn’t go gay for her, but damn those thighs. I couldn’t take my eyes off of what should be illegal on a fifty year old.
6. Post-party shenanigans include snuggling up in bed–he on his iPad, me on my MacBook Pro, reading the Oatmeal together. I can take 21 Justin Biebers in a fight.
7. For the record, we rock at making Super Bowl snacks. Port wine and blue cheese dip with crostini and chocolate caramel triangles. Both from his extensive cookbook collection–which he actually uses. *sigh*.

I love you all, some more than others.

Seven Sentences for Sunday: The Six Sentences and One Paragraph Edition

1. On 90’s throwback weekends, the radio stations always use REM’s “Losing My Religion” and Soul Asylum’s “Runaway Train” as standbys. Better than Paula Abdul’s “Straight Up,” but still oh-so-predictable.
2. In a final-straw effort to get Rhett to go to bed by himself, I told him to call on God when he is scared and He’ll send His angels down to be by his side and keep him from being afraid. He looked at me solemnly and said, “That’s fine, Mom, but I only want you.”
3. His little sister clearly believes in angels, as she told me, “I had a stummyache but it’s all gone. It’s like an angel came down and got it and flew away with it.”
4. My guy’s name is Sam. You will be hearing more about him and I will refer to him simply as Sam. Because I’m not the Honey-wunny-sugar-pie-schnookums-bottom type.
5. I shall quote him often because he makes me laugh.
6. “I was out of dog food, so I went to the store and got some wine.” –Sam. Swigging from the bottle over Facetime to make his point.
7. Saying, “I love you,” for the first time is a pretty big deal. I’ve been known to throw it around a bit haphazardly, abiding by the Hard Rock Cafe credo of Love All, Serve All. While I still very much believe in that philosophy, I’ve taken a more conservative approach in my personal life lately. I thought I had it all very much under control until the other day when I was under the influence of some serious cold medication and was snuggled comfortably in Sam’s arms. As I drifted in and out of sleep, I mumbled incoherently and reaffirmed how much I loved his being tucked in his arm. And I may or may not have crossed the I love you bridge while high on Alka Seltzer Cold. Which is unfortunate because I have no clear memory one way or the other. If I didn’t, it was a very vivid dream in which I made this confession. Fortunately it was received well in my reverie. It hasn’t been repeated since, which lends itself to being a drug-induced dream, and there hasn’t been any awkwardness, which bodes well either way. I’m in no rush. I’m in touch with my feelings and he with his. When the time is right, the words will reflect what’s in our hearts and that milestone will be passed hopefully with lucidity and without the aid of over-the-counter medications. In the meantime, I’ll let him feed me the chocolate-dipped strawberries he made us, “just because.” Because for right now “just because” is just right.

I love you all, some more than others.

Seven Sentences for Sunday: The Knick-Knack-Paddywack Edition

1. I strive to be the type of mom who is more concerned with the inevitable bruise my daughter is going to have after falling off the rock wall instead of the hole she put in her brand-new fancy leggings. I’m pretty sure I succeed at this, but damn if that hole doesn’t still sting.

2. I think a great Wheel of Fortune puzzle would be “Pop Culture Before & After” with the answer being “Katy Perry the Platypus.”

3. $25 and 750 tickets doth three happy kids buy. Gameworks day on Saturday and we walked out with a yardstick of bubble gum, a $1 rubber ducky, and all the rolls of Smartees that Jolie could cram into her hands. We rivaled Phineas and Ferb’s “Best Day Evah.”

4. To the friends and boyfriends who have gone before, Sam is succeeding where none of you could–he is expanding my palate to include wine, and I’m actually enjoying the journey. I still have my bitter beer face occasionally, but I can actually order a glass of wine without asking them to put Sprite in it now. I’m such a grownup.

5. My niece is turning one on Saturday. I haven’t been so proud of a little girl since Paisley hit the same milestone. It’s amazing how our hearts can expand to include not only our own children but those of loved ones as well.

6. Writing, quilting, scrapbooking–all have taken a backseat of late. I wonder as I look at the boxes of fabric, bins of keepsakes, and bits of strewn paper with notes jotted on them which of these will be the first to resurrect itself. Perhaps marrying one of these with a blogging project is in order.

7. You is kind. You is smart. You is important.

I love you all, some more than others.

Seven Sentences for Sunday: The Foiled Again Edition

1. Dammit, I had two really great sentences started, saved them as a draft, and they got lost. Now they are gone forever because my brain is shriveling like a five-year-old in an hour-long bath these days.

2. For a music lover such as myself, where music is infused in all of my daily life and relationships, there can be issues when a relationship fails and you both have a profound love for a band and their live shows. I found out this week that I got sole custody of Red Wanting Blue from one ex-boyfriend and joint custody of RWB with another. Failed relationship or no, the music rocks on…

3. I love it when storm clouds are clipping by overhead at a brisk pace. It gives me an adrenaline rush and makes me feel like magic is happening beyond their surface in a world unknown to ours.

4. I bought a huge sled. Which means the likelihood of us getting more than three inches of snow has dropped significantly. I’m not so sure that that’s a bad thing.

5. In February I am going to set a challenge of doing 7 sentences every day. Considering it takes me til Thursday to do my weekly sentences, this does not bode well. But it’s a goal setting exercise.

6. I’ve started Jazzercise again. When we do our kick turns to “Beat It,” I almost feel like I could be on Shake It Up Chicago.

7. Don’t you hate it when a great boss leaves? I’ve got a good one in the pipelines, thankfully, but it still sucks when they go–even if they are leaving to sit at the cooler lunch table.

I love you all, some more than others.

Seven Sentences for Sunday: The Whoops Let It Slip Edition

1. I have been sick for days with mild nausea, reminding me that I never again want to be pregnant. Whoever has placed their phantom fetus in my womb had better reclaim it soon before I start barfing up Saltines.

2. My new guy informed me that we have over 2000 text messages between us, not including the three-hour facebook chat we had. I’d say after two weeks of dating, I’m getting my money’s worth from my Virgin Mobile unlimited data plan.

3. I am explaining away the delay of this SSFS due to the fact that I accidentally let my domain name expire and couldn’t get in to update. To think Just Destiny could have been nabbed by the porn peddlers. “Oh cool, Destiny has a webcam up now…wait. wha???”

4. There are times when my left thumb finds my left ring finger and rubs the underside as if to twirl my rings, which I haven’t worn in over 2 years. Weird.

5. Every day the forecasters keep pushing back winter weather one more day. It seems like today is the day that Old Man Winter awakes from his slumber. Hopefully the crotchety old bastard will tire quickly after one good snowstorm and return us to our 50 degree winter days for the rest of the season.

6. I got two fruit servings and a protein in my smoothie today…yay me and my return to healthy eating.

7. Aforementioned boyfriend is currently on stage at a conference speaking about Bootstrapping Scala on Android. I only recognize the Android part of that title, but it feels good to be cheering someone else on in their goals. I know he’s knocking it out of the park right now.

I love you all, some more than others.

Seven Sentences for Sunday: The Holiday Redux Edition

1. While I had an amazing NYE, the preempted trip to Nashville made me miss out on more than my brothers…churros. Tiny little churros from Jack in the Box that make my mouth water with their otherworldy goodness. I’m taking the long way to Atlanta next time.

2. What made up for the lack of churros was perhaps the best post-drunk snack I’ve ever put in my mouth–a chicken and apple sausage with mustard, bacon, onions, and barbecue sauce–all on a fresh bun. Soaked those cranberry-vodkas right up.

3. Wanna know what sucks big, hairy, New Year’s balls? Waking up on New Year’s Day ready to jam and finding out your favorite radio station has gone country. Now where am I going to find my Lady Gaga and Elton John back to back?

4. 2012 is going to be a good year, I can feel it. Could be the extra helping of black-eyed peas I had for lunch, but I prefer to chalk it up to good juu-juu. I’ve had it coming for a while now.

5. I resolve to work on paying off my credit card debt before adding school debt on top of it, to eat more healthfully, and to laugh more often. I think I’ve officially become an old lady with my resolutions.

6. Does the watermelon Jolly Rancher I just ate count as the fruit serving of my eating more healthfully? I may have become an old lady with making my resolutions, but I’m still a child at keeping them. See, I told you 2012 was off to a great start.

7. I am so very thankful for good friends, scattered across the country though they may be, who seem to know just the right time to reach out and say hi. I wish everyone could have a friend like Heather Nodelman, Janna Sayer, or Amanda Korey. I am lucky enough to have all three plus quite a few more with whom I share the good fortune of 2012.

Happy 2012 everybody. I love you all, some more than others.

Seven Sentences for Sunday: The Two Shy Edition

1. Do you remember being on the playground when you were like four or five and you finally got a turn at the wheel–the big one that you could drive like a bus or a car or, for the truly inspired, an airplane. And you would whip that thing around from left to right in an action that would in real life send you careening from sidewalk to sidewalk, but that was how you imagined driving a car would be in your four-year-old eyes–after all, why have a wheel if you’re not going to really drive it. Anyway, I used to drive my life-car like that, taking a few people out in the swerves, but picking up lots of passengers along the way. I miss honking that horn and having my friends come running.

2. My strength in writing comes from taking mundane little details and extrapolating them into essays that speak to universal feelings or emotions. Somewhere over the past few months someone or something has intervened in my creative plane and has put me in shackles. It’s from this darkness that I write tonight.

3. I am no angel, though I have pretended to be one. I am no devil, though I’ve been mistaken for one. All I ask is that I just be allowed to be me…just Destiny, nothing more, nothing less, just to see where in life that takes me. I, for one, would like to be surprised.

4. My heart has healed, but it has been replaced by stone that no longer connects with my brain. I can look at my sleeping son and feel a surge of pride in my brain, but the thump of motherly love in my heart is missing. This has made me get all philosophical on the meaning of love, and I fear where it is taking me.

5. I have nothing more to say tonight, so I’ll leave you with a two point gap.

I love you all, some more than others.

Seven Sentences for Sunday: The Hopefully Haunted Edition

1. I’ve decided that we should teleport using 1/3 of our brains and we can therefore take over 1/3 of someone else’s brain. Wouldn’t it then be awesome to teleport right into someone’s brain who has 50-yard-line tickets for the Super Bowl? Just to feel the excitement?
2. I had an epiphany tonight while looking for nursing school scholarships: I want to be a neonatal nurse. I think I would be excellent at it, even if it does dash my dreams of finding my own Denny Duquette.
3. I went trick-or-treating with my ex-husband, his new fiancee, and four of the five kids between us all tonight. It was actually a lot of fun!
4. I am bound and determined to finish hanging my artwork this week. I’m tired of my apartment being unkempt and unfinished.
5. This teenage acne on my chin has got to stop. I think I got it from reading Tina Fey’s book, Bossypants, because she complains about her own bouts with it.
6. Thursday night is my only free night this week…the rest are booked with social events. I sound a lot more hip than I really am–in actuality I’m just lonely as fuck.
7. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again…why won’t the people at Hershey’s get their heads out of their asses and make a dark chocolate Almond Joy? We could call it Almond Bliss or Nutty Nirvana…just get it done already.

I love you all, some more than others.