Musings

Okay, here we go. I haven't had anything special to write about. I tend to steer clear of the deeply personal on this said blog. Nothing personal on your end, just the way I am.

My brain dances from one subject to another all day long, and I guess, when they build up, I blog about them in a very patchwork way. Mostly cuz I'm getting grief from a said sister who is a beautifully, prolific blogger and her fans would be sadly disappointed did she not. I'm included in that group.

So, I noticed my dog on a walk this morning, avoiding any surfaces by which made her nervous. The covers in the street, the yellow bumpy stuff on the bike curbs at the end of the sidewalk, even the sprinkler water in the way. I'm like that. I don't like to step on grates in the sidewalk cuz you NEVER know what's going to happen. It's like falling down a mine shaft. Scary! You wonder when you see that on the news, how'd they get there? Well, darn it, they just weren't careful like me.

And again, it's hard to be me. Just deciding what to have for lunch is major. Because, you know, I'm a picky eater. I'm picky in the sense that I want it to be GOOD. Not just lunch, but life-changing lunch. Something I want to pick up the phone and talk about! That's some serious pressure every 24 hours. Now, dinner doesn't concern me so much. Something about lunch. Lunch should be fun. I'm more European (okay, that's a stretch). I want my bigger meal to be mid day. Something light and easy for dinner. In fact, I'm starting to think about my siesta right now! (spelling anyone...I don't speak Spanish...see post below).

So I was at a soccer tournament this past weekend, and I went to use one of many public restrooms I am forced to use in the many soccer events of my life. This one wasn't a port-o-potty, which excites me to no end. If it flushes,everyone's happier. But a pre-req is a toilet seat cover, yes? So I reach out for one (sometimes two, depends, can't be too careful) and the brand name on the seat cover box says: Life Guard. Life Guard??! I'm just going to the bathroom. Might I die in making the choice to relieve my bladder? Would I if I didn't use this toilet seat cover. Now I've had bad thoughts about snakes coming up outta the pipes in the middle of the night while you are going to the bathroom in the dark, but I don't see how a Life Guard Toilet Seat Cover might save me, or even protect me in the least in that situation. Why not: Better Safe than Sorry covers? Or You are gross and lazy if you don't use me covers? Or You Just NEVER know? Or Did you SEE that last person cover? Well, anyway. That was a little over the top and it made me think or not want to think about why this cover was going to save my life. (PS. I'm in the restroom a lot. I just am. It's a curse. Lots of time to think about these VERY important things).

And I'm ALWAYS trying to right some wrong. I mean, someone has to! We can't let Obama try and do it all by himself. Or Nazi Kindergarten teachers. Or real estate agents. (But I'm NOT bitter). We have this Dad on our soccer team who makes it his personal manifest destiny to yell and publicly destroy his daughter in every game we watch. It's something of a spectacle. His daughter is an amazing soccer player and her work rate is much higher than your average player. She has passion for the sport. Or she has passion about not making her dad angry. Not sure which. But apparently, I heard from another parent & friend, "It's a good thing you weren't there this morning. He was outta hand. Just eating her up (verbally). You wouldn't have been able to contain yourself." She's probably right. She obviously knows me well. I'm KNOWN for saying what others want to but fear being publicly tarred and feathered. But no, not me. I love having people despise me. But I will have righted a wrong. So here we go. I couldn't contain myself. It was one story too many. Me to the coach in the afternoon: "So, I wasn't here this morning, but I hear we have a new assistant coach!: Coach to me: "Huh?" Totally dumbfounded and confused. "You know, __________. I hear he held nothing back in coaching his daughter the ENTIRE game." Coach: "Yah. He's outta control." Other moms start gaining some courage after I say: "Yes, it's all I can do to stop myself from calling CPS. This isn't bordering on abuse, it's bordering on him getting abused if it continues." Then the other mom's pipe up. "Yah, Coach. It's bad. He needs to stop." Breathe. And so it goes. And there's no stopping it. Cuz if Dave could, he would. It's quite the burden being married to me. You never know who you're gonna get.

So when I lay my very tired head down to sleep at night, it's no wonder that I often can't. Because I am my father's daughter. I have very strong opinions. And sometimes don't know when not to share them. I've gotten better and truly try to show some discretion. On the other hand, whatever I can do to help.

Do you think I'm having a brain anuerism? I'd check the spelling but my brain has moved on way past that.

Happy Monday.