Fun with Furniture

I’ve been refinishing some furniture recently. On each piece I have used a slightly different stripping and paint (stain, actually) application technique.
Please let me know in the comments which you like best and why. I could use some input before I declare anything finished and slap the poly on top. The rustic, whitewashy look is intentional (in case you’re thinking “Uh….you missed a spot”).

Thank you muchly!

Excuse me, Brain? Can I have that one back with the caramel waterfall and the awesome party?

Here I am. There you all are. It’s just barely Saturday and already I wish my weekend was over. Wish that I could still sleep through my weekends. They are lonely and boring and filled with nonsense unless I have my kids here. Then they are silly and filled with whimsy and fun.

This utter lack of a social life is really getting to me. I feel like I am beating my head against a wall- back in middle school, with my small group of close friends who all have lives that involve doing things other than sitting with me when I feel like a loser. I HATE my brain. It’s utterly ridiculous, irrational, completely overrun with stupid emotions that I don’t like and more than anything, it’s broken.

The part of my mind that comes out when I sleep is the best. I dream beautiful, intricate, insanely euphoric movies of which I am the star. The most talented cinematographer and screenwriter may barely scrape the surface of what I see when I sleep. When I am asleep I see myself as I wish to be. Strong. Beautiful. Powerful. Filled with hope and supernatural abilities.

The other night I dreamed that I was doing every thing I have ever done in my life that has brought me pleasure, virtually simultaneously. Freud would probably have quite the field day with me.  I think what struck me the most, that is, what I miss the most about that dream, was that feeling like I was loved and a part of everything and everyone around me. And I could fly. That is always a part of my best dreams. Flying.

Sometimes in my flying dreams I have wings, sometimes a hang glider type apparatus, and sometimes, the best of times, it’s just me and the sky soaring upon high. Through the clouds and over the world I travel, landing here and there and being filled with such a feeling of wonder and peace, serenity and acceptance. It’s a feeling so elusive that I often wake up crying because I miss it so.

(This is not at all what I came on here to talk about.)

At any rate, lately has been a…synonym for struggle that is a much stronger word. Like in that book where is says we must “smash the delusion”- my life is like a giant tornado of shit covering everything in foul and disgusting funk.

Now I am exaggerating a lot.

I just don’t know what to do with myself. The to do list is never ending and ever growing. Yet working on it seems like an exercise in utter futility. Like trying to talk to someone who really doesn’t want to talk to you but they don’t want to be rude because, like you, they are a people pleaser. I prefer frank honesty to bullshit banter.

And maybe I am talking/thinking about someone or a particular situation or maybe I wish my To Do list would crumble itself up and bounce off of my head as it puts itself in the trash because it knows, as much as I do, that even if I do everything I am supposed to, and everything I should, life will still be completely fucked up.

Once upon a time I thought I would have a fulfilling life. From where I stand- well, sit, at the moment- I see a vast desert. Depression is a real asshole.

Nights like these I wish I had a nice warm body next to me, so that when I lay down a strong arm would wrap around me and lips would kiss the top of my head. A comforting voice would say, “I love you.” and I would drift off, with hope for tomorrow.

I have none of that. In my mind I pretend I know who that warm body belongs to, but I know about as much as what’s good for me as the average person knows how to successfully build and launch a rocket into space.

There’s a quiet part of my brain, it reminds me of a little card I was once given as a gift; it contained the following text:

“…acceptance is the answer to all my problems today. When I am disturbed, it is because I find some person, place, thing or situation — some fact of my life — unacceptable to me, and I can find no serenity until I accept that person, place, thing or situation as being exactly the way it is supposed to be at this moment.
“Nothing, absolutely nothing happens in God’s world by mistake….unless I accept life completely on life’s terms, I cannot be happy. I need to concentrate not so much on what needs to be changed in the world as on what needs to be changed in me and in my attitudes.” (Alcoholics Anonymous, pg 417, 4th Edition)

From what I have experienced, this is true. If I can find a way to let go of all of the nonsensical bs that constantly inundates my thoughts and just tow the line, smile, and help another person, I will feel better. Overall, the cosmic chain reaction from that is a positive one, and eventually things fall into place. Unfortunately I am impatient, selfish and self-centered. Each of these defects are parts of me that I work to lessen, however on nights like tonight, when I engage in exercises in futility and spend entirely too much thought and energy trying to get what I want- and ultimately fail miserably- I wish that I could just let it go. Permanently. Let the fantasy and (however warm, fuzzy and comforting) memories of times past go.

*      *      *      *      *      *      *      *

All I can feel is the warmth of your arms and the scent of your skin. We are alone on the planet for just a moment. I feel safe and comfort unlike any I had for many years.

Back in the real world, sitting here alone, for whatever reason, despite vague and insincere flirtation, I can tell that to you  I am practically invisible, or worse- an annoyance. I don’t know for sure why. I have an idea, but without a conversation I can not confirm. And since my desire for conversation (or any of the fun other stuff I pretend will happen) it’s apparently not going to happen. Le sigh.

In this very moment, however, I would love a surprise visit, a simple explanation that doesn’t make me feel like a loser, and more than anything? Your arm around me as we lay next to one another. Silence is ok, but some sort of random existential discussion (or one about our ‘Happily Ever After’) would work for me.

Am I sounding pathetic? That is surely not my intention. I simply wished to share what a moment in my brain before I fall into sweet, sweet sleep is like.

    …

NOTE: I seem to have dozed off for a bit there. When I woke up I hit publish instead of draft so now this bad boy is out there on the interwebs for ever and ever and ever, amen. Whoopsie! Folks, that is why you don’t blog when you’re half asleep. It is  like drunk dialing without the awfully awkward calls and texts from every person you either told off or that you love the next day.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy the read. I shall now cut open the beautiful pineapple that awaits my knife. Since I’m awake again. And hungry. And trying really hard not to eat ice cream.

 

My shot at altering the space/time continuum has been towed.

 

A simple request @JamesRoday @DuleHill of #Psych

Please guys, read this and please make me the happiest woman in the world?

Hi. I’ve never spoken about this at any great length on here, however, let me start off by saying, I AM A HUMONGOUS PSYCH FAN. Huge. Perhaps borderline obsessed with watching. But absolutely not in a crazy, creepy, stalker kind of way. More of a this makes me forget how sad I am and remember the good times kind of way.

I like to escape into their world and pretend like I’m that cool.

Since I discovered it was on Netflix early last summer, I have watched the first 6 seasons countless times. It’s on a constant loop on my bedroom computer so that I fall asleep and wake up to it.

It started out that I was just catching up on any episodes I may have missed, and then watching whatever tiny scraps of Season 7 I could agonize through (because my computer sucks and can’t handle USA’s video format or something). At the time, my youngest, referred to here as Bean, and I were sharing a room. Noodle was sharing a room with my mom, however generally by morning I had two tiny people in my bed. Many mornings, middle of the night fever wakings, afternoon quiet times and any other times are of my happiest memories: the three of us, snuggled up in my bed, watching Psych. And just so there’s no uproar/backlash/OMG you let your kids watch that???, I’m happy to assure you that they did not watch any of the remotely questionable parts. They mostly liked to sing the theme song, and just spend time in my arms. For a short time, they were even convinced that “Shawn” was actually my friend John. “Why is John on Netflix Mommy? How’d he get on your ‘puter?”

When they…weren’t here anymore, I couldn’t stop crying. It took all that I had to get out of bed. So while I lay there, a shell of a human being, I watched Psych. Grateful for the humor and memories it helped me recall, it also provided enough distraction for me to stop crying in brief interludes. So I kept rewatching. And watching again. And starting from the Pilot to the end, backward to forward and every way in between.

Well, tonight I am going to the Paley Center for some special event where (wait for iiiiiiiiit) …. JAMES RODAY AND DULE HILL AND ALLY SHEEDY WILL BE THERE AND TALKING ABOUT THE SHOW AND THERE’S GONNA BE A SPECIAL SCREENING AND OMG OMG OMG OMG I AM SO EXCITED I MIGHT EXPLODE!

I came up with an idea, a pretty good one if you ask me. How about I try and get a short clip of them and me (holding a pineapple, obviously) outside (or inside, wherever is ok with me) waving to my girls and saying Hi! Sounds like a great idea right? What’s the big deal, you ask. Why is this so important?

Because I haven’t seen my kids in a while. It’s been close to a month since I’ve seen Noodle, a week and a half since I’ve seen Bean and honestly, I have no idea when I will get to lay eyes on them again. I don’t get to hear their voices, I don’t get to brush their soft sweet-smelling hair off their faces, and I don’t get to give them tickle torture. Frankly, it’s the most painful thing I have ever had to go through.

I keep myself busy by drawing pics and putting together little gifts for them and thought, HEY. This is something we used to do together, and a once in a lifetime potential opportunity. I could then post the video on my fb and hope it gets to the right place, or somehow get it before their eyes so they can see that Mommy is healthy, that I love and miss them, and LOOK! Shawn and Gus say hi too! They would be SO blown away.

So this is my official request; PLEASE, will you wonderful, handsome, talented, hilarious, empathetic, kind, generous and all around awesome men, James and Dule, and maybe even the incomparable Ally Sheedy, PRETTY PLEASE WITH SUGAR AND HONEY AND ICE CREAM AND SPRINKLES AND WHIPPED CREAM AND PINEAPPLE ON TOP HELP ME OUT BY TAKING A FEW SHORT MOMENTS AND MAKING A SHORT VIDEO CLIP FOR MY BABIES ? It would definitely be the coolest thing ever in the whole world and I would be eternally grateful and in your debt. I am bringing the pineapple. My name is Alicia. I will be there tonight. I hope this happens!!

 

 

(So if you’re not them and reading this please share it and RT it and do whatever needs to be done to make it go viral or until they say yes. PLEEEEEEASE!)

Oh, also, I apologize for any grammatical, spelling or any other errors in here, but I wrote this on the fly cuz I gotta get my behind to the CIT-AY!!!

Annual Parade for Drunken Debauchery

Yesterday was the town’s annual St. Patrick’s Day Parade. This year I actually attended. I had my motives, and it was the first time I got out of bed in a while lol.
I did not go to see the marching bands or eat funnel cake. I had no friends to meet up with.
I did however have an ill conceived plan to try and find my kids.
Usually KD takes them. I went along once I think. The baby was a wee tiny bean back then, and Noodle was your average no cares in the world happier than me at an all you can eat cupcake buffet. It was a decently enjoyable short period of time- I went late and left early. The weather was crappy and rainy. Call me a stick in the mud. 
Back to the point. My black ops mission.
I walked from one end of town to the other hoping to see their tiny angelic faces, so that I could scoop them up and cover them in kisses.
It didn’t work out. If they were there, I somehow missed them.
On the bright side, I ended up being more active than I have in months. I walked 3 miles, met my 10,000 steps a day goal for the first time ever by the way, and took lots of pictures and videos and was generally amused by the lot of it.
So I’ll share with you some of the enjoyable highlights.

This is the Food Bank cow. If you have food donations to make, call the number above her head . There are many needy individuals and families in the area who will benefit.

This sweet ride.

This guy       ↑   that guy ↓

Gumby, fire trucks, and lots of people in green.

And by the time I walked home I realized that it all adds up to…

And there you have it.

MEMORIES

I was hanging out with my friend earlier, checking out this sweet book she has on Mandalas from different cultures. I love those.

When I was 12, I used to draw them, not knowing what they were, or properly creating them probably. In college I learned a lot more about them, as it was art school. I surmise that I drew a couple then as well. I was more into the boxes and these incredibly beautiful beads I was making though. Fast forward to the very beginning of my relationship with my children’s father, we used to watch a tv show which featured mandalas and meditation as a central theme in several episodes. Here I am now, pining away for my children, coloring them in to keep my anxiety at bay, using them as a meditative aid so that I can focus my energy on positive thoughts.

You’re probably confused. A lot has gone down since May. I won’t get into it in great detail; frankly I could get myself into trouble if I start running my mouth-er-fingers about it. Suffice it to say, I am currently spending 100% less time with my children than I was this time last year, and I miss them horrifically. As if  part of my soul has been removed and is elsewhere, being tortured.

What I’m left with is entirely too much time in my own head. However I had such a happy memory as a result of these mandalas today I couldn’t help but share it. As I scanned the images from her book into my computer so that I may print and color them, or perhaps even play with them in Photoshop or Painter Pro 2 (? some similar program my mom has on her computer. I actually rather like it. If anyone knows anything about it, please let me know. I don’t quite have the hang of it, but I’m ok with basic stuff) or MAYBE one of these days I’ll get into the correct frame of mind and draw some from scratch. Regardless,  I was scanning, and my dear friend puts on a song, asking if I’ve ever heard it.

 

This was the highlight of my day. I used to play this song every morning while I made breakfast for the girls and I. We would sing it and dance around the kitchen even during the darkest of my PPD days. It was how I coped with the fact that I had to get through another day. How I got my blood flowing. And my babies were so sweet dancing around with me, singing along. The best was when DDa would, out of nowhere bust into song: “BLAME IT ON MY ADD, BABY!”

Like the waves during high tide, I was pounded with memories. They flooded my mind and touched all of my senses. Snuggling and watching The Lorax 800 times, playing in the inflatable pool with our old neighbor, tearing up Kale chips like there was no tomorrow and laughing, singing and dancing. Just thinking of these times I am sitting and smiling, probably for the first time all day.

I have some pretty shitty ones, but right now I am immeasurably grateful for my memories because they are all I have to hold on to. I miss my babies. I can’t wait until they come home. So if you’re so inclined, perhaps say a prayer, burn a candle, recite an incantation or chant so the Powers That Be may understand, and know to allow them to come back to me. I appreciate it, and I know that even though I can’t ask them, that my sweet little monkees do too.

❤

 

*LE SIGH*

I keep thinking about posting, and what I want to write about. I jot little notes of funny or crazy things that pop into my head throughout the day. Yet here I am, at the computer, kids asleep, and all I want to do is go to sleep.

 

For now I will just say Hello, I have missed you. I would love to hear from you; please feel free to leave me comments so I know you haven’t forgotten about me. 😉

 

I promise I will have something fun or interesting or at least longer than this really soon. I will. Really. But if I sit here any longer I will end up like I did last night, out cold with my face on the keyboard.

 

 

Yes, that’s really how I woke up.

 

Then I went upstairs, sat on my bed to get situated, and woke up an hour or so later still sitting on the edge of my bed. I bet this is the kind of exhaustion those famous people have when they have to spend a week at a fabulous spa getting rested and pampered. My plane ticket and spa voucher must have gotten lost in the mail so for now I’ll settle for a twin bed with a toddler or two in it.

 

Nite all.

Undulating just beneath my conscious mind, floating into the oblivion of sleep