A New Theory and an Informational Supplement

I have been absent for a loooooonnnng time because A of all:  I've been hellabusy.  Like, "What do you mean, Will, you want me to clean the kitchen?  I have to edit pictures, design marketing layouts, email clients, wash laundry, wipe Jeffrey's allergy laden-nose, plant seeds, clean out the car..." busy.

And, also, a lot of what I want to say falls into the religious/political/philosophical spectrum and as a good chunk of people who I want to pay me money to take their pictures don't share my beliefs about...um...anything, it seemed a good idea not to say anything.  I find it distasteful to use one's religious or political beliefs to GAIN business, but that doesn't mean that I don't recognize that, for many, it's a good marketing strategy.

HOWEVER, today on Facebook I was involved in a political conversation that was so dumb that it almost killed me.  Like, literally, y'all, I almost died right here on the couch because a giant wave of dumb almost sent me into the abyss.  I clawed my way back toward the light and as I lay trying to catch my breath I realized a simple truth, a truth so stunning and devoid of political or religious leanings that I knew I had to share it with you.

Are you ready?  Ready for the TRUTH?

Are you sure?  It's...pretty profound.

Okay, here goes:

The idiots are ruining everything.

I KNOW!!

Now, you have to understand, I'm not talking about conservative idiots or liberal idiots or Christian idiots or Pagan idiots or black idiots or white idiots, I'm talking about the giant, air-sucking army of idiots that trample all over good sense and decency and logic and pretty much eat our brains...

OH MA GAWD, Y'ALL.

They aren't just idiots, they are, like, ZOMBIE idiots.  We are on the cusp of a Zombie Idiot Apocalypse.  And Idiotaclypse, if you will.

It's already started. You can see it in our government's slow grind to absolute irrelevance as they fail in TWO YEARS to come up with a way to stop the defunding of food and education and transportation programs, but somehow manage to--the day after these programs are defunded--introduce $500 million legislation that would provide abstinence-centered sex ed programs to teens and NOBODY STORMED THE CAPITOL.

You see it in the fact that in four years of governance, the president has introduced four budgets and only ONE has been passed, mainly because Democrats are afraid of being seen as spenders and Republicans are afraid of pissing off rich business people.  And so they divert the attention of the idiots to things like "the President stopped White House tours" or "Mitt Romney strapped his dog to the top of the car," which are, you know, awful and everything ,but not in any way a burden on the average American citizen.  The Supreme Court, meanwhile, ruled that corporations are people.  That took them a year and a half to figure out.  It's taken the Court a decade (or more) to get around to addressing marriage equality, an issue which affects MILLIONS of Americans.

You can see it in the fact that Sarah Palin got up in front of millions of people (via TV and interwebs) and made fun of the president using a teleprompter whilst using a teleprompter herself AND compared Washington to reality television after starring in two failed reality programs herself and the entire country isn't saying, "Gah, woman, go back to Alaska and try to spot Russia."

You can see it in the fact that there is going to be a reality television show in which celebrities learn to high dive.  OMG, companies are paying millions of dollars in advertising fees so we can watch Rudy Huxtable jump into a pool.  WHAT THE HELL????  (And I just discovered that Fox actually came up with this idea a year ago.  I...WHAT THE HELL???)

Idiocy is like a virus, y'all.  And we have to stamp it out.  I'm not sure the best way to do it.  I lean heavily toward isolation on remote islands for the idiots, but the bleeding heart in me is always thinking that they can be rehabbed somehow.  If you have any ideas, let me know.

In the meantime, I've come up with a handy-dandy list to help you spot the signs.  It's short and sweet, much like me before I got involved in the dumb conversation this morning.  Feel free to make copies and distribute to your friemily, perhaps noting in somber tones that "Only you can prevent the Idiotaclypse."

SIGNS YOU ARE DEALING WITH AN IDIOT

1. The infected individual chunks people into a group and derides said group, often (ironically) commenting on lack of intelligence.  Only an idiot would assume that ALL of any group believe or act the same way.  To be sure, one is comfortable in a group because one finds people in that group who share one's interests or basic beliefs.  But that doesn't mean that everybody in the group has the same background, education level, romantic life, et cetera.  Even a group with narrowed purposes is comprised of people with varying experiences that lead them to have different opinions.  For example, people who love Joss Whedon and his handling of The Avengers might wonder why Nathan Fillion, who is clearly one of the yummiest members of the Whedon gang, doesn't have a role in that movie.  But SOME of the Joss-Whedon-The-Avengers fans might not like Nathan Fillion and were happy not to have his impish charm grace the big screen again.  (Clearly, these people are not my people.  I don't actually KNOW that these people are idiots, but I have my suspicions.)  My point is, assuming that somebody who calls themselves X must also believe 1, 2, and 3 is idiotic and leads to communication breakdowns and frustrations.  Not all conservatives love Sarah Palin.  Not all liberals love Michael Moore.  Not all gun owners are Republicans.  Not all Christians go to church.  Not all Democrats are pro-choice.  Not all reality television watchers think that clearly what we need is another reality show based upon miserably unhappy rich women.  I hope.  Dear heavens, I hope.
2. The infected individual refuses to participate in discussions.  Here's how a discussion works:    Hilda says, "I think this."  Bartholemew says, "I disagree."  Hilda says, "I think this because of A, B, and C."   Bartholemew says, "Interesting.  Did you know that A was refuted by researchers at the University of Wichita in 2008?"  Hilda says, "No, I didn't.  That's frustrating.  But C is just my gut feeling, and I trust in that."  Bartholemew says, "I understand.  I don't agree with you, but I respect that opinion.  Can you tell me why you think you might feel this way?"  And it goes on and on, leading to, at the very least, a pleasant goodbye and stronger belief in one's own ideas.  At best, we get a balanced budget AND gay marriage all at the same time.  Idiots cannot manage this.  A "discussion" with an idiot looks a lot like this:  Hilda says, "I think this."  Bartholemew says, "You are so ignorant."  Hilda says, "Um. Why do you think that?"  Bartholemew says, "The turnips on the back of the wagon are always more purple than the ones on the front."  Hilda says, "Actually, in 2011, researchers at the University of Witchita proved that to be false."  Bartholemew says, "I lick tartar sauce off my plate!"  Hilda says, "Wait.  What?"  Bartholemew says, "And you know that the rabbits in Botswana want you to think that.  You're such a sheep."  Hilda says, "But...the researchers at the University of Witchita?"  Bartholemew says, "The government pays off those researchers.  Get your own damn tartar sauce."  And then Hilda is swept into the abyss.  Poor Hilda.  
3. The infected individual cites various websites, blogs, or internet memes to prove his or her point, even when the websites, blogs, or internet memes are proven decades old or just flat out lies.  Moreover, if presented with evidence that is contrary to their "evidence," the idiots will do one of two things.  A:  question (ironically) your intelligence, often declaring that you don't read "history."   Or B:  call you a sheep.  One begins to wonder if idiots actually know what sheep are.  I'm starting to believe that they think that sheep are, you know, monsters.  Or demons.  Or people who are so desperate to believe something that they'll cling to unsubstantiated evidence to uphold their belief.  Which, pretty much, makes them not sheep, as from a biological and physiological standpoint, sheep don't do a lot of clinging or believing.  They do, however, follow the sheep around them, which is exactly what the idiot who reposts a chain email claiming that the pope said, "Women are stupid and stink" does.  IT'S A VICIOUS, IDIOTIC CIRCLE, Y'ALL.  (Extra idiot points to the idiot who posts something inflammatory and ridiculous on Facebook and says, "I don't know if this is true, but...."  Just...hush, you poor idiot.  I'll get a cloth for your head.)  Websites, blogs, and internet memes are FINE justifications for your thought processes, provided that they are well-researched and backed up with verifiable facts.   If they aren't well-researched and backed up with verifiable facts, they are...I don't know.  A waste of interwebby space.  Or...wait.  Waiaaaaait.  Maybe the un-researched, not backed up memes and emails are the actual CARRIERS of idiocy, the method by which the virus spreads.  Does...does this mean we need to turn off our computers or risk infection?

I'm pretty sure it does.

Why Do I Blog?

This is the first of my NaBloWriMo posts.  In case you aren't in the loop, we NaBoWriMoers are writing a post every day for the entire month of October.  There's still time to join us if you want to shoot me an email at nothannah@comsouth.net.


Blogging is commonplace nowadays.  When I first started, back in 2005, it wasn't as commonplace.  There were a few "stars" already (Dooce springs to mind...), but for the most part, it was a fairly new medium.  My reasons for blogging then are not what they are now, mainly because I'M not what I was then.  Or who.  Whatever.

Let's do this in list form:

Heather's Reasons for Blogging

1. I wanted to become a rich and famous writer.  By blogging.  I know, I know...that has happened to precisely one blogger as far as I know.  BUT  I had a dream way back in 2005 that somehow, blogging would project me into the world of interviews with Oprah and book deals and maybe that 1954 black Mustang convertible with red leather seats I've coveted for decades.  Uh.  Not so much.  Of course, in the first year I was a blogger, I think I wrote sixty-two entries.  Sixty.  Two.  Not a good way to become a celebrity blogger, in case you were wondering.
2. I wanted to vent about Aspergers.  Jeffrey was diagnosed in September of 2006, several months after I started.  It was...difficult.  I felt pretty isolated in Perrydise and even, to an extent, isolated by my friemily because to put it bluntly, very few folks understood or accepted the diagnosis then.  (I don't blame them, I harbor no grudges, everybody's awesome...moving on.)  I NEEDED a place to complain and worry and blather and be afraid and this was the place.  I blathered, y'all.  OH, how I blathered.  The blathering was extensive.   In the back of my mind, I imagined a little community of Aspie moms coming together and taking over the world.  This didn't happen.  But I did make it through those awful first years of interventions and meds and meltdowns and fears and tears because of the space I'm Not Hannah gave me to vent.
3. I wanted to have friends.  Oh, my GAWD, that sounds pitiful.  But it's true.  Perrydise has not been a hotbed of social activity for me and while it's getting better (mainly because I'm sucking it up and joining society even though I stand out like a sore thumb), it has been lonely for many years for me.  Blogging gives me a whole social network at my fingertips, and by "social network," I mean friends.  I've shared pregnancies, deaths, drunken ramblings, financial worries, literary triumphs, new jobs, lost jobs--everything you share with "real life" friends--with my blogging buddies.  Many of them I connected with via NaBloWriMo.  And I love them.  I'm not kidding.  I used to feel kind of dumb about saying it, but I've been friends with these women (and a few men) for YEARS now, and I love them.   Luff.  Love them.  There have been times in my life, to be honest, when everything else was falling off the rails and just reading their stuff or writing something silly here on I'm Not Hannah has been the only thing that keeps me chugging along.  You know who you are.  I've mentioned you before.  And when I say "I luff you," I mean it in the real, deep, "you are my friend" way.  I mean, I'm not trying to get all serious in the pre-dawn hours, but you folks are important to me and if I ever get the chance to hug your necks, I will probably stand in the coffee shop clinging to you like a starfish and sobbing all over you.  That really makes you want to hug me, doesn't it?  I don't know how I'll arrange this meeting, but if we can ever find a way to make a place the middle point between Washington and Australia and Michigan and Nebraska and India and Oklahoma and West Virginia and Wisconsin and New Jersey and Georgia and Alabama and about eleventy-million other places, let's do it.  I promise I won't cling to you for more than, like, an hour.  Tops.
4. I want to be a better writer. THIS is the truth now.  This is why I still write, in fits and bursts and random tirades.  I've realized that there are two types of writing I really love:  fiction and blogging.  A few years back, I would have said "creative nonfiction," and I guess that's still true.  In any case, I know that blogging will never make me rich and famous, but I don't need it to do that any more.  I've found a new career path that is bringing me both a paycheck AND a creative outlet and so now, the pressure is off as far as making writing that thing I do to have money.  Does that make any sense?  The years of trying to find freelance work when I really just want to write a book about a teenage pirate chick or a screenplay about a nutty family at Christmas feel over and now I'm free to write what I want to write when I want to write it.  
1. At the same time (helllllooo, weird Blogger formatting...pretend this is a new paragraph, y'all), I am very aware that I want to make sure I'm turning out good work for my readers.  It's weird that at the same time I don't care about monetizing my blog, I'm also moving toward a regimented writing schedule and topics and whathaveyou and considering a Facebook page for readers.  I don't really understand how these things are coming together in my head this way, but I'm just going to go with it.  I blame it on being a Gemini.  We're weird, y'all.

In a nutshell, I blog because blogging lets me be me.  It lets me write, it lets me make friends, it lets me vent my frustrations and fears.  It connects me with the world.  It allows me to show off my mad photography and design skilz.

It lets me be ME.  What does blogging do for you?  Why, my lovies, do you blog?

A List on Monday (You Knew One Was Coming...)

So, how awesome am I?  I'm all like, "Oooh, join NaBloWriMo" and "Check out my new header" and "I planted a garden because I'm all philosophical."  And then I didn't post at all for two weeks.  I AM AWESOME.

But I've had a few things going on.  For one thing, I started training for my new job.

YES!  I got a job, y'all.  Woohoo!  Alright!  Break it down!

Plus, it's another Magic Job, the kind where you look at yourself and say, "How am I so lucky to get this?" My days at work consist of...wait for it...taking pictures of newborns at the local hospital.  I know, right?  Are you kidding me?  Anyway, with the training and trying to get my house in order for the days I won't be here (it's only a part-time job), I haven't had a lot of time to blog.  Or anything else.  Shall we have a list?  Yes.  Yes, we shall.

1. I got a job!  Yay!  But also "Gulp!"  And "Snnniffff!"  The "gulp" because while the picture-taking and baby-schnoodling are awesome, the rest of the job requires me to sell pictures to make money, and that worries me.  I am not a particularly forceful salesperson, and in this case, it wouldn't suit my needs, anyway.  But I will have to push gently for sales and that's nerve-wracking.  The "snnnifff" comes because I'm missing days with my family and that's tough when you've been doing the SAHM thing for almost a decade.  I'm missing a soccer game AND a birthday party AND another soccer game this weekend.  And while I know that there are moms in Afghanistan missing...uh...EVERYTHING and thus in retrospect, this is a tiny, itty bitty thing, my daughter is a tiny, itty bitty thing, too.  And she looks cute in her soccer uniform and I'll miss that.
2. The garden is doing GREAT.  Everything is up and flourishing with the exception of the cabbage.  WTF, cabbage?  Why you tease me?  (Sorry.  It's early.)  Also flourishing is the nut grass, which I think I've written about somewhere before, but in case you missed it, it is grass that, oddly, grows from a little nut-looking thingamabob.  And it's Satan's favorite plant.  When you till up a patch of it, every single fiber of the plant can create new nuts and fibers and, really, I can't even imagine why this plant exists.  I hate it.  Haaaaate it.  
3. Entries to NaBloWriMo are low thus far, probably because I said, "Let's do it!" and then disappeared.  Because, as mentioned before, I am awesome.  Please join us.  You know you want to.  There'll be prizes like soap-making e-books, art, bloggy redesigns...woohoo!  (More on this tomorrow when I'm at home and able to write without thinking about whether I need to change my white balance.  I do, in case you were wondering.)
4. For a week prior to the Equinox, the weather was cool and lovely.  On Friday, temperatures spiked up again and now it's hot and sweaty.  I'm not complaining.  Really.
5. Okay, yes, I am.  GAH.  Go away, hot weather.
6. Right now, I have less than an hour to get ready to go to work.  I am not feeling it.  Do you think they'd mind if I showed up in my robe?  I'd put the belt back on and everything.
7. Speaking of work, I have to wear makeup at work.  I mean...I don't HAVE to wear makeup, but in this area, wearing makeup means "professional," so that's what I'm doing.  As a Southern woman, I know how to do all kinds of things that I don't do regularly, like saying "The Lord's Prayer" or balancing a plate of chicken salad and strawberry tarts on my knee at a bridal shower, but that doesn't mean I'm leaping around for joy at doing it.  Plus, my GAWD, I can never get all the mascara and foundation off.  Has makeup become more permanent since I've last worn it regularly? What is it made of now?  Rubber cement and Sharpies?  Seriously.
8. It's now Monday and I have exactly thirty minutes to make lunches, get dressed, and get the kids to school.  Do you think they'd mind if I did this in my robe?  (I luff my robe.  Heather + robe = true love always.) 
9. I made--wait for it--FIVE sales over the weekend.  This is great for me and means I only have to make two more equal sales in order for my goal for October to be met.  I needed this affirmation (and I think Will did, too) financially, but more than that, I love being able to contribute to the family doing something I enjoy doing.  Yay!
10. I made pumpkin caramel cookies, then decided they'd be better as mini cupcakes and I was SO RIGHT.  I'll be sharing the recipe in a few days.  So go ahead and start fasting now, because these things are crazy good.  Ca.  Razy.
11. No, really, the kids have to go to school.  Dang it.  Why must my children be educated and well-fed.  It's so haaaarrrrdddd being a middle-class American.
12. I kid.
13. To all of those folks who've sent me emails about NaBloWriMo, thanks and I'll be emailing you later today.  If you haven't sent me an email saying you're signing up, well, why not?  Come oooonnnnnnn. (You know you want to.)

Have good days, mah peeps.  Luff you.

Random Things That Annoy the Pee-Turkey Out of Me

When I was in high school, my geometry teacher was the former head football coach and I thought he was one of the most frustrating people I knew. In retrospect, he was a nice guy, but because he liked football and the Lord and various other things I found ridiculous, he drove me right up the wall. Honestly, if it hadn't been for the lunatic who sat behind me in class who would variously sing The Cure songs or pretend to vomit (it was endearing...somehow), I might have gone clinically insane. As it was, I spent a lot of time making poor Coach mad, at which point he would squint his eyes, jut his lower jaw out, and say something disciplinary which would almost always involve the word "pee-turkey." Coach wouldn't curse, you see; he would instead say "pee-turkey." Like, "I don't give a pee-turkey about the fight you had with your boyfriend, Miss YoungNotHannah. You need to dissect this parabola."  (Or something. Can you dissect a parabola? Is that geometry?)  Sometimes, he would throw in a "pee-dooky" if he was really mad. It was fabulous.

But this blog post isn't about Coach or high school. I was just trying to give you a little history, a little literary base from which to launch yourself into the post below.

Not buying it?  Me, neither.

Here's ma list of random things that annoy the pee-turkey out of me:

• Having to say "pee-turkey."  I curse.  I curse with glee and abandon and prefer to feel not the slightest bit guilty that the f-word is one of my favorite all-purpose adjectives, nouns, and verbs.  (Pretend that sentence made sense.)   However, the other morning, I told River she couldn't have any lemonade yet and she said, "Aw, man.  That sucks."  In exactly my tone of voice.  With my accent.  And dramatic rolling of eyes.  Whoopsiedoodle.  So now I'm trying to use words like "shucks" and "feediddle" and "ay caramba" instead of the words I really want to use.  I do not want to say, "What the pee-turkey are you doing?"  But I'm going to, so that River isn't kicked out of pre-K.  Fiddlesticks.
• When people say the word "weary" when they mean "wary" or "leery."  Y'all, I saw it on the Entertainment Weekly site today and I almost bit off my own face.  If you are "weary" of the big dog at the end of your street, you are tired of him snapping at you every time you jog past.  If you are "wary" or "leery" of the big dog at the end of your street, you are afraid he will snap at you when you jog past.  Please, for pee-turkey's sake, figure this mess out because I need my face to try to reform my child's vocabulary.
• Also, your boss is not "prejudice" unless he is a negative opinion based on a specific characteristic of  an object or person.  Your baby is not "jaundice" unless she is a problem with the blood related to an elevated bilirubin count.  Your boss MIGHT be prejudiced and your baby MIGHT be jaundiced, but for the love of all that is good and holy, BUY A FRICKIN' D, people.  Gah.  
• Any and all end-time prophesies and/or commentary related to them.  Thanks to the radio dude who screwed the pooch prophetically back in 1994, there are a whole bunch of people either A:  selling everything they own to buy RVs, billboards, and websites proclaiming the end of the world or B:  making studiously snarky remarks about looting after the Rapture or C:  being Tim LaHaye and saying, "Hey, ain't nobody supposed to talk about end times but me, bitches."  And NOW, the Pagans want to get in on the End of the World Panic, by circulating what appears to be a sketchily-documented Hopi prophesy involving a blue star.  (Go ahead and google it.  You'll find three different versions of it in five seconds, involving everything from a preacher and an old Hopi dude in a car in the 1950s to aliens to the Hale-Bopp comet to the Mayan 2012 thingamabob.  Lawsy.)  Y'all.  I'm not trying to hurt anybody's feelings, but this whole "we'll have to go through something EVEN WORSE than what's happening now and then we'll either be in a perfect place, a hellish place, or a more enlightened place" thing is wearing me down.  How about we just do our best to stop making a hell on Earth right now and not worry about how awful it WILL be tomorrow or Thursday or December whatever 2012?  Mkay?  Thanks.
• People who keep bragging about how school is over.  School is NOT over, my friends.  It is draaaggggiiinnnng on here at a glacial pace, hauling us along behind it helplessly.  Three days might not sound like a lot, but for me, it feels like three centuries.  (Guess whose kid has done pretty much not a thing for the last month, since testing was over?  Go ahead.  Did you guess me?  You must be, like, psychic.)
• Lack of rain.  Pretty much all of my interweb friends are all like, "It's rained for days.  When will the rain stop?  The RAAAIIIINNNNN...."  Meanwhile, I'm wondering if I should start collecting my shower water in buckets because it's so fricking dry here.  Last weekend, I watched the radar as a line of storms approached our county and then, upon reaching the Perrydise city limits, split in two, only to reemerge as a line after passing over Perrydise.  NOT COOL, line of storms.  I broke down and watered the other day.  Oh, how I watered:  I accidentally left the sprinkler on for about two hours when I went to the store.  My garden was happy.  And by "garden" I mean barren wasteland of weeds and herbs that are living despite me.  I rock.
• The phrase "RINO."  This is a cute little acronym conservatives use to derisively call out Republicans who they feel are not Republican-y enough.  (Republican In Name Only.  Brilliant.)  Arnold Schwarzenegger is the latest recipient of the RINO moniker, seemingly because he had the illicit sex with somebody other than his wife.  Frankly, if this is the big criteria, I'm gonna have to give the big X to the term, because Newt, Ensign, Thurmond, Sanford, and that dude who solicited a police officer in the potty are all big free market, small government, less taxation folks who just also happen to be giant adulterous whores.  (This is only a small list.  Please feel free to ask me if you need more examples.) Now, I suppose that Ahnuld could be a RINO because he advocated that more people be given more rights under California law, thumbing his nose at federal law--wait.  THAT can't be right, can it?  Maybe he was a RINO because the people being given more rights are Teh Gays, and we all know that Republicans are not supposed to think being Teh Gay means you deserve equal protection under law.  I mean, it says so on the card, right?  Hint:  No.  No, it doesn't.  I think that what folks mean when they say "RINO" is actually Republican Who Refused to Jump in the Very Lucrative Christian and/or Traditional Energy Industry Pocket And Thus, Are Running Counterwise to Current Republican Thinking .  I recognize that RWRJVLCa/oTEIPTRCCRT does not have the same ring to it as RINO. And please don't think I'm defending Ahnuld, because I am fairly done with politicians being whores.  BUT  Schwarzenegger's governorship doesn't look a whole lot different than that Brown fool from Wisconsin that conservatives are fainting in ecstasy over.  (Schwarzenegger tried to cut state services to the poor, lower state worker pay and consolidate state departments, privatize prisons, block union influence, and vetoed an "easy way to citizenship" bill several times.)  My point is, does being a Republican now mean that you have to deny Teh Gays equal protection under law and give oil companies huge tax breaks?  Because then, and only then, will I agree that Ahnuld is a RINO.  (I will, however, still think that the term is dumb.  Sorry.)  Honestly, I think that lots of folks who call themselves Republicans need to start calling themselves BOWELs (Bible Owners Wanting to Engender Legislation.) Ahahahhaahhaa!  Sorry.  I couldn't help it.  You know I love you BOWELs, right? 
• Me.  I'm getting on my own dang nerves now.  Great.  

Tune in tomorrow when I'll try to make a list of Random Things That Don't Annoy the Pee-Turkey Out of Me.

ANOTHER Standard NotHannah Catchup List

Honestly, it's starting to feel like maybe I should just post only lists every two or three weeks, because that's how I'm rocking the blog lately.  I'm awesome. What can I say?

What I SHOULD say is that I'm sorry I've been out of commission for so long.  NOT that you're hanging on by your fingernails, clinging to a shred of hope that some day, some how, I will once again grace you with my bloggeriffic fantasticness.  But I have totally ignored my interweb friends for a few weeks now.  I haven't visited blogs, I haven't responded to emails, I haven't done anything but peeped up on a few FB posts and that, my friends, is not cool.  (If it makes anybody feel better, I've ignored many of my "hey, I can actually give you a hug without flying across the country and/or world" friends, too.  Have I mentioned I'm awesome?)  Anywho, to all of you whom I've neglected lately, I'm sorry.  Things are straightened out now and I am slowly crawling out of my cave of self-interest.  DANG.  It sure is bright out here.

Let the list commence:

1. I done made me a photography website.  In the professional photographer world, this is theoretically how one drums up business, while also offering clients a place where they can view a gallery of their session.  From a NotHannah standpoint, it's a responsibility that takes away from this blog, in that every time I sit down at the computer, I'm editing pictures, tweaking the site, or pining over new equipment.  (Okay, I will admit to also being sucked into a new FB game.  Gah.  Gardens of Time is a wicked, awful, beautiful time-vacuum.)  If you are so inclined, head on over to the site.  http://www.hrayphotography.com/  
2. I have been alternating between my feelings about the death of Osama bin Laden.  In a departure from many progressive friends, who are in a place of "we should all love one another and not be violent," I am genuinely happy that the man is dead.  HOWEVER, I do not feel it germane to be bouncing around the streets with glee about it.  HOWEVER, I understand the (mostly) young people who are doing it, if only because their entire lives have been spent in the shadow of a bogeyman who has been removed from the collective consciousness, so yay.  HOWEVER, I'm not all down with demands to see the body, which seems to be coming primarily from a group of folks I now call deathers.  (I'm pretty sure that at some point in time our president is going to have to prove that he is, in fact, alive.  Or human.)  I'm not down with that mainly because it strikes me as further proof that reality television is rotting our brains.
3. I received a notice that I could now pull the money from my Teacher Retirement System account.  It's a nice chunk of change, and I'll put it to good use, but it's rather weird to be closing that door officially.  Part of it is a sense of, "Oh, shozzbot, I have NO retirement."  Part of it is a sense of, "I really enjoyed the kid part of teaching."  On teacher appreciation day, two of my sweet babies thanked me.  It really meant a lot to me and made me thankful for the technology that allows me to keep up with former students.
4. This weekend, while walking with the family out on The Land, my brother Heath found a muddy, crumpled piece of what appeared to be a hymnal.  One of the hymns was "Were You There?"  It dawned on us that it was refuse left behind by the killing winds that swept through the South the week before.  We found bits of roofing paper, a shredded California map.  At a friend's house, I found the top of a doll's head.  My friend's contractor found a high school yearbook page.  Finding these pieces of life, snatched up and flung far away, is sobering and awful and freaky...and, of course, maddeningly interesting to a writer.  There's a story racing around my head that I think will have to be let out soon.  
5. I took up running again, which has apparently tickled the humidity gods PINK, because it has gotten hotter and more humid than May has a right to be.  It's hard to do ANYTHING, much less run for forty-five minutes every day, but I'm trying to force myself to do it, because while I've lost five pounds, I need to lose more and I don't feel very healthy lately.
6. It could be all the chocolate chip cookies I've eaten today.  Possibly.
7. I finished the bathroom!  (Actually, I finished it months ago, but I don't think I've shown you yet.) Ther are still touch ups I want to do, but it looks MUCH better.  

1. 
   
   
2. Yes, I know this should be "8."  But honestly, Blogger is on such crack that I can't figure out what the hell it wants me to do in order to insert a picture.  It makes me insane.
3. My garden is shot all the way to hell and back.  I have planted very, very little and what I DO have is fairly crispy.  I'm hoping to get some stuff in this week, though.  Really. 
4. On top of...
5. Y'all, this disjointed list is breaking my face.
6. We had our IEP meeting for next year.  Jeffrey's IQ was 143.  1.4.3.  Good heavens.  And while that's all great and everything, the boy still can't write legibly.  Last week was field day, during which I talked to another mother who had had virtually the same experience with her little boy this year.  Neither of us were very excited to find this connection.  Whheeee!  (When is school over, please?  Seriously.  I want it over NOW.)
7. I have replaced the sad, worn out office chair with my big exercise ball.  I don't know where I got this idea, but can I just say "Yay!??"  It is forcing me to have good posture, my legs and back aren't as sore from all the editing and writing, and I can even get a little exercise in.  RIGHT NOW I'm bouncing on the ball.  Exercising.  AND typing.  Yahooooooo!
8. Ahem.
9. I made cookies today.  Lime and white chocolate chip and regular chocolate chip.  I realize these are not healthy, per se.  Or any se, really.  Especially when you forgo lunch and eat cookies instead.  Cooookkkiiiieees.

Hope all of you are well.  Miss you.  Mean it.

Standard NotHannah Catch-Up List: Volume Nine Bajillion and One

Helloooo!  I'm totally not apologizing for not posting in so long, because I was busy getting my Spring Break planning and then my Spring Break having ON, people.  The fams and I went all the way from the foothills to the mountains to the flatlands to the beach and I am rested and restored and inspired and sated with crab until June.

Seriously, we had a fanTAStic time and I had just enough time with the kidlets and just enough time with the hubs and just enough time with MYSELF that I feel like all of the bits and pieces of me that were pulled too tight or worn thin or fitting oddly around the edges are all smoothed and polished and clean again.  Yay!

Along the way, I listened to and watched and discovered and read some really cool and amazing and inspiring things and...I wanna tell you about them, mkay?  Mkay.

1. R.E.M.'s new album, Collapse Into Now ~  I've been an R.E.M. fan for going on twenty years now.  I've danced like a crazy person to their songs, and written short stories with them playing in the background, and cried at the first notes of them when my heart was broken.  This album sounds, to my ears, like all of their albums fed into a blender, whizzed together, and poured out as something new and golden.  The jangling guitar-driven beats are straight from Life's Rich Pageant and the mandolins remind me of Out of Time. The song "Oh My Heart" slays me, especially when Stipe's voice soars plaintively like in days of old.  Er...you know, like, fifteen years ago.  It's definitely an album made by men who have been doing this rock star thing for a long time, and who are contemplating legacy and purpose.  I love it.  Luff it.  Looooveee it.
2. The Last Child in the Woods: Saving Our Children From Nature-Deficit Disorder by Richard Louv ~ If there was a theme to our Spring Break, it was the reinforcement of the idea that we needed to spend more time together outside as a family.  I'd heard about this book in the past and when Will and I spotted it at the Georgia Sea Turtle Center on Jekyll Island, we snapped it up.  I've only read a few chapters into it, but already I'm feeling more and more supported in my idea that being inside all the time is HURTING my kidlets.  I'm looking forward to the sections that discuss the concept of being in nature as a means of treating ADHD.  Not necessarily a cheery, upbeat tome, but an important one, I think.
3. Gatlinburg and Pigeon Forge, Tennessee ~ It must be said that when Will announced that we would be going here for two days during our vacation, I was less than thrilled, particularly when he nixed the idea of going to the Smoky Mountains National Park for a hike--or even Cades Cove.  I did not want to spend two whole days hanging out in theme parks getting slimed by strange kids.  There.  I said it.  However, with the help of some sweet cousins, we were able to rent a cabin and score tickets to area attractions at VERY reasonable (read:  cheapola) rates and so we were set.  First, we went to Magiquest, which...y'all.  I think I have told you of my love of Dungeons and Dragons as a tween and the fact that, even now, I am drawn to fantasy literature, right?  Right.  So let me tell you that when we peedoodled up to the faux-castle facade of this place and picked out our own interactive wands...well, the fantasy geek in me might have squealed a little.  We had a great time running around solving puzzles and tapping things with our wands.  Jeffrey was in hawg heaven and perfected his wand-flourish lunge.  Here's a picture of him solving something or other:

I know it's blurry and vague, but I promise you that this was the only time he stopped long enough for me to snap a picture.   We also went to Wonderworks, which I'll spare you the details of.  Jeffrey loved it with a passion that burns, but there wasn't a lot for River to do, besides lie on a bed of nails.  Which was cool, but, you know...weird at best and, at worst, maybe a little sordid.  The highlight of the festivities (besides visiting with my sweet cousins, who are some of the best people I know) was our trip into Gatlinburg to visit the Ripley's aquarium.  We love a good aquarium and this one was GREAT.  Also, it wasn't very crowded, which made us happy.  There are so many pictures I could share, but I'll give you these because otherwise, this will be the longest blog post in history:

The last morning of our short stay, we went into G'burg for some doughnuts at The Donut Friar.  I lived in the area for a year when I was a child and although one of the houses I lived in has actually been torn down and the whole city is completely different, this shop remains and the doughnuts are still as good as I remember.  What a great time we had...

4.  Garden and Gun magazine ~ Have I mentioned my love for this magazine?  I adore it, and for the past few months I've lived without it because it was one of the things that we had to trim from the budget.  It's like the New Yorker for Southerners:  you can read about hunting, cooking, artists in the South, regional travel destinations.  It's printed on lovely, thick paper and almost always features something that I love.  I missed out a couple of months ago on The Avett Brothers, but I picked up this month's copy before Will and I headed to St. Simon's Island for our get away and was treated to a story about Gregg Allman, one about a potter in Mississippi whose works grace my library and kitchen, and a recipe for something called bacon crackers, which is a piece of bacon wrapped around a club cracker, can I get an AMEN?  Oh, and there was an article about Shelby Foote!  Love.  (Also?  Will totally just subscribed to two years of it--yay for tax refunds!)

5.  O Magazine's April issue ~  Listen, a lot can be said about the ridiculousness of Oprah Winfrey's magazine and even, in some cases, Oprah herself.  I mean, I have snorted LOUDLY at the pricey jewelry and shoes and makeup applicators I've seen grace those pages.  However, this month's issue features POETRY in a large way and that, my friends, is a beautiful thing.  There is an interview with Mary Oliver, a Pulitzer prize-winning, fiercely joyfully-living and writing woman whose words I'd only given a passing glance to before. There are snippets from Maya Angelou and W.S. Merwin and thoughts on what poetry is from Margaret Atwood and Bono and Ashton Kutcher.  There is also a list of important works of poetry and I am tickled to say that not ONLY do I own many of them, the Rumi translation by one of my creative writing professors from UGA (that would be Coleman Barks) is on the list.  Hee. Given that this is National Poetry Month, I say "Huzzah."  HUZZAH, I say.  You can poopoo Oprah all you want for her lavish giving and huge personality and Tom Cruise bouncing like a mongoose on speed all over her couch, but the Truth is that the woman has brought the written word to housewives and couch potatoes all over this country and I'd like to give her a big fat hug for that.  (Do I need to tell you that Mary Oliver mentions in the interview how humans are losing touch with Nature and what an awful thing this is?  Note to self:  write a letter to Mother Nature thanking her for the gigantic nudge.)

6.  The Driftwood Beach on Jekyll Island ~  Listen, y'all.  Jekyll Island ain't got much.  It's got some big fancy houses that a bunch of rich folks in the early 1900s built and called cottages, and that's pretty much it.  No glistening white beaches; the beaches here are brown and flat and unstirred by the waves that churn up shells and sharks teeth farther south.  There aren't many restaurants and there's a convention center and...um...yeah.  Jekyll has always felt stale to me.  Sort of...."Hunh...well, THAT was a horrifying suspension bridge to cross for a lot of nothing."  But a few weeks ago, I came across some pictures taken by somebody at a driftwood beach on Jekyll, and they were gorgeous and I thought, you know, maybe it was something we could check out while we were there.

Y'all.  I can't really describe the power of this place.  Basically, the water and wind and time have ripped up and tossed around huge old live oak trees, driving them into the sand and turning them into sculptures that are feminine and stark and...wow.  Just that.

This one was my favorite:

Seriously, I couldn't get enough of her. I couldn't stop myself from whispering to her, leaning against her. I could have spent HOURS trying to find new angles from which to film her. Sighhhhh. I luff her.

7.  Also, I love this guy:

Seriously, how can you NOT love a pirate, looking at forty?

8.  SPRING!!  ~  As long as I focus on overlooking the fact that awful storms are approaching from the west, I can be giddy with the feeling of sinking my fingers into the dirt, watching River hug an azalea bush, listening to Jeffrey laugh as he flies a kite in the pasture behind our house.  A few weeks ago, I was going to take down the Winter wreath of roses and rosemary that had hung on our front door since December.  I was planning a Spring lavender and egg extravaganza, but when I opened the door, a flash of red swooped away from me.  Turns out, a pair of house finches decided that my wreath would make a perfect house site.

A few days later, I found that Mama and Daddy House Finch had been busy:

And when we got home today, we discovered this:

Oh,  sweet little fuzzyheads.  You remind me that there is so much hope and newness and fragility in our world, and so much safety and warmth to be found in a cozy house filled with love.

It's a Love Fest, y'all. 

Consider yourself hugged.

Standard Not-Hannah Catch Up List: Volume Nine Bajillion

Well, hey there!

Long time, no see.

Shall I do the whole "OMFC, I've been soooo busy thing?"

I mean, I totes will if you need me to.

Wanna do a list instead?  YES!  Lists are awesome.  You know you love my lists.  You CRAVE my lists.  You neeeeed my lists.

Ahem.

1. Wow.  Pink header, right?  Don't worry.  I'm going to be designing a green one today, so there's no need to be all "but you said you hated pink" and "um, isn't pink too girly for you" and "HYPOCRITE!!  Blasphemous HYPOCRITE!!"  
2. What?
3. Yeah, I know you wouldn't do that.  Anywho, what I mean to say is that I took Rayna's comment about making pink her signature color to heart and I decided that not only was I taking pink back, I was taking The Princess back, too.  So every day since then, I have worn pink, even if it's just a pink elastic to hold my stringy hair back.  And any I'm Not Hannah header from now on is going to feature pink and a crown.  And maybe Xena.  Because, I mean, HELLO?  Warrior Princess.
4. Yes, it's going to be one of those lists.  You might want to step away from the list and wait until your  caffeine kicks in before you read it.
5. On the resolution tip:  I've lost around five pounds...yay!  We painted the bathroom and are finishing up odds and ends this week...yay!  Aaaaannddd...that's it.  Editing fell by the wayside with the whole "ooh, look, I have a groovy camera now," so I've pushed it back a month.  Pretty much a lot has fallen by the wayside with the groovy camera stuff, but I've gotten a handle on the stuff that fell and I'm stuffing it all back into my Filing Cabinet and shuffling the files and throwing out bits that aren't working for me.
6. Don't worry, Hartwell, that does not mean another Life Philosophy post is coming.  
7. Yes, I totally just called my brother out.  What're you going to do about it, Pookie?  What?  BRING IT.
8. I'm sorry I'm involving my readers in family conflict.
9. It's really not family conflict.  I'm just funning.  
10. Apparently, Spring has decided to come a month early.  After the cold, icy winter that started in November, everybody but me in the state of Georgia is ripping off their clothes and running around naked and I swear, I've accidentally caught three separate species mating on camera.  Check it:
    
    

    

    Turtles doing it.  With a voyeur.  Kinky.

    
    

    

    Doves doing it.  Well, not technically doing it.  But you KNOW he's all "Hey, baby, look at my wings."

    
    Honestly, Blogger, you make me cry with your photo insertion crap.

    
    

    Ducks doing it.  Bless her heart.
    
    

    
    

    
    

    
    

    
    

    
    

    
    

    
    

    
    

     
    Really?  You're going to make me start a NEW LIST?  
    Y'all.  Blogger is making me make a new list BUT it won't let me line it up.  The gods only know what this entry is going to look like.
    Aaaand, now it won't let me even write the new list.  WTF, Blogger?  I can't backspace now.  Or erase any new stuff that I don't like.
    And I'm forced to double space.  This is insanity.  
    So I'm going to leave you with pictures of animals mating and an unfinished list, because if I keep at this much longer, my head is going to explode.  
    More tomorrow.  With a green header. 
    *Edited to remove the space and .1 that bothered Hartwell so much.  But that's all I can do with this post, because Blogger hates me.  Forgive me, people.  I am only one woman.*