on being an ADD blogger...

This blogging thing and ADD, I'm not so sure they go together.

To blog is not only about writing fantastic posts (ummm, or at least attempting to), it's also about reading other bloggie friends posts, showing bloggie love (ie. thoughtful comments), returning e-mails to bloggie friends, and exploring and finding new bloggie friends.

All of this can be very time consuming. For those of us with ADD, it can swallow your whole day (without you even realizing it)!

Here's a little view into how my brain operates while trying to do bloggie related activities yesterday. When I say "Me" what I'm really talking about is my conscious intentions. When I say "My ADD" -well, that is that part of my brain I seem to have very little control of.

Me: I'm gonna check my e-mail and see if I have an comments on my post from yesterday

in the process of logging in the puppy pees on the floor

Me: CRAP!

clean up pee and uselessly take puppy outside (he has already done what he needed to do)

Me: looking at my computer screen Now what was I gonna do?

My ADD: Let's read some blogs!

Me: Oh yeah! That was it.

clicks on blog reading list

Me: let's start from the top shall we?....Oh look! rxBambi has a new post!

My ADD: Ooo!Ooo!Oooo! Look at the pretty pictures of flowers Tootsie posted! Let's skip rxBambi and go back to her later!

clicks on Tootsie's blog

Me: Wow! Look at the stuff she has in her green house. Man, I think I kinda hate her a little... (not really Tootsie)

My ADD: hey!hey!hey! she has a Mister Linky Widget thingie! Let's take a quick peek at a couple of these and see....Whoa! Thoughtfully Blended Hearts....that's sounds like a nice place to visit.

clicks on the link

Me: This is a nice place, pretty flowers.....

My ADD: Ooo!Ooo!Oooo! lookie at that picture! It's kinda sparklely!

2 hours later and after 20 million clicks on links and pictures and brightly colored words....

Me: {{Dazed and Confused}}Where am I? Whose blog am I reading? How did I end up here? What time is it?

My ADD: No! Wait! Look at that! There's Otin on her reading list too! He must be good, it's like the third time I've seen him mentioned today and rxBambi reads him too....

Me: rxBambi! ugghh I forgot rxBambi!

clicks back to my dashboard so I can go to rxBambi's blog

My ADD: Ooo!Ooo!Oooo! We have a new follower! Let's just peek and see who it is....

Happy Birthday to ME!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!

Last night I had a dream.

My body parts were all discussing who had it the toughest over these past 40 years.

My feet were the first to complain (they ALWAYS are)

and for some reason they sound like a little old Jewish man...

"Oi Vay! I'm dying here! Did you see those purple pointed things she crammed me into over the weekend? What a Yonkel!"

My back (who sounds a New York cabbie) interrupted

"Give me a ******* break!" (I'm always having to censor him)"You have no idea what real pain is! And what? you complain a little and she puts you up....babies you....rubs your sorry butt! What does she do to help me? Nada! that's what! She just keeps goin..."

Then my hands chime in "Darlings....(they sounds like Zsa Zsa Gabor)

soundoflife.net

no one works like me! I should be pampered! Manicures...expensive lotions...rings on every finger! But NO! I don't even get rubber gloves when she cleans! Everyone sees me and now *gasp*! Age spots! Makes me what to slap her!

My uterus tries to put in her two cents "ahem"....it's hard to tell what she even sounds like because everyone shouts in unison "Oh just shut up!" My uterus tends to be a little whiny and no one likes a whiner!

Then my brain (who sounds like....well, it sounds like Me! Duh!) "you guys need to simmer down! At least you guys get a break when she sleeps for 7 or 8 hours! I'm like the Energizer Bunny or Rodney Dangerfield or whoever! I never get a break! Look at me now! Even dreaming I have to keep the peace! And HELLO!?! How bout a little ADD medicine here? You think I like living like this? Geez...."

It went on and on all night long. My internal organs put in a few thoughts about exercise and eating healthier....but I ignored them.

Eventually my brain and I decided to just pretend I'm turning 29 today.....

doing as I'm told

Yesterday, my hubby said something I never, ever thought I would hear him say.

As he was leaving for work, he yelled over his shoulder "make sure you blog today!" and then closed the door.

After I recovered my senses and picked myself off the floor, I felt a little lost.

See, dear Hubby has been "disliking" my new blogging "habit" since it began. I have many witnesses to this fact. He is pretty vocal about it. His coworkers know all about it, family, friends. They have all heard my hubby rant about my blog. One of my girlfriends didn't believe me, but after she spent a little time around my hubby she said "Wow, you weren't exaggerating about you Hubby!". But I've kept going, hoping that one day he'll warm up to my new hobby. There are so many good reasons for me to keep blogging.

Reasons why Tori should keep blogging:

1. It's cheap. When I compare his hobby of golfing to my blogging, well, that's a "no brainer"

2. It updates the family and friends back home on our move to Illinois (my original reason for starting this thing).

3. It gives him complete control over the TV remote in the evenings. I can sit and do "bloggie things" and he can watch whatever he wants (it is football season-hello?!).

4. It makes me happy and "if momma ain't happy", well you know the rest.

5. I could be doing worse like drinking, doing drugs, and having sex....wait that was one of
Mac's latest arguments, never mind.

So you're probably saying "He is giving you permission! Why are you giving us lists of why you should continue?".

See, I think dear Hubby is just being a little sneaky. After 19 years of marriage, I think he has finally figured out one of my, what I like to call, "little personality quirks" (I really do think it's taken him this long!).

I feel silly admitting this to everyone, because I'm sure I'm the only one out there that feels like this, but I have a problem with people telling me what to do. And it's gotten really bad. I originally thought it was something left over from my teenage rebellious years but then I began to notice it getting worse as I got older.

If you ask me to do something for you nicely, I don't seem to have a problem. But if I feel like you are telling me what to do, it's like a switch going off inside of me. It can be as simple as noticing a tone of the person asking or the way they word their request.

And it's not just dear Hubby that I have this problem with, it can be my kids, or friends, or anyone. It's definitely something that I'm trying to make better.

Now that I have completely made myself look like a nut case (what is it with me blogging about my previous well hidden quirks?), I think that is what dear Hubby is doing--pulling the whole "reverse psychology" thing.

Or he could just want me to post pictures of the living room paint job.

To show that the colors he picked were okay. (we still haven't got the curtain hung or the surround sound up but we are getting there)

And that I would like them. And he could say "I told you so" (which btw, is one of his "quirky little personality traits" that drives me crazy!)

We all have them. Right?

Schizophrenic Gardening

One of the hardest things for me to leave behind (besides family and friends, obviously) is my garden. Every house that Dear Hubby and I have owned, excluding this house, has been new construction. That means landscaping from scratch. I get to decide what the lay out will be, what plants and trees I want in my yard. It's all very fun...and as Hubby would point out...also time consuming and expensive!

I know I should never do this...but I will go back to my old houses and see what the new owners have done with the yard. I know what will happen when I get there and look...it always upsets me..."what happened to my Hosta collection?" ...."Where did my Peonies go?"...."Why did they mow down my cutting garden?". Even worse, I'll talk to my old neighbors (who know how much time, energy, and love I put into my gardens)..."They just dug up your Hybiscus and threw it away!!" Oh the pain! Why do I do this to my self? It's like getting on the scale after the holidays...you know it's not going to be good news....it's only gonna depress you...but you just have to know!

So gardening in this house will be a new experience for me and my gardening venture. The house is a couple years old, and we were told by the realtor that the previous owner liked to garden. Even though we looked at the house during the winter months, I could tell that the sellers were my kind of people....she had pictures of her landscaping laid out for us to see. And even more exciting was the fact that the guy across the street owns his own little perennial business (who, as rumor has it, gives free gardening advice). I could see it now (cue the dream sequence music)...me digging in the garden...and deciding on a whim, "I think I'll put some Coreopsis here"...standing up and brushing the sweet, soft perennial blend off my hands and marching across the street...grabbing my new potted baby...waving to "Perennial Pete" *names have been changed to protect the innocent*...and saying "Just put it on my account Pete"...because of course I'll have an account.

Ahhh, but that dream was shattered on our first day here. Remember when I talked about how friendly everyone was here except for the crazy guy across the street? Well, that was my "Perennial Pete". (Don't worry, I'm sure the chances of him ever reading my blog are about as good as him coming over and apologizing....sigh).

Let me tell you about our experience with "Perennial Pete" so far.
Day One: Move in day....It is pouring rain when the moving semi pulls up. Our street is very narrow. Hubby and the moving guys do their best to position the truck on our side of the street with in our postage stamp sized lot lines..."Perennial Pete" calls the Sheriff on us....for blocking the streets.
Day One: One hour later..."Perennial Pete" comes out and yells at Hubby...because obviously he didn't get the results he wanted by calling the police....
Day One: Two hours later..."Perennial Pete" comes out and yells at Mac and her girlfriend for turning around in his driveway...
Day One: Minutes later..."Perennial Pete" comes out and yells at Bud for parking on "his side" of the street...
Day Two: The next door neighbor comes over telling us their "Perennial Pete" story...when they came to look at the lot to build their house..."Perennial Pete" tells them about all the lots being in a flood zone...about how he's planning "to raise himself some chickens" and build a "giant chicken coop" on the edge of his property....
Day Three: The stories from other neighbors just keep coming...apparently they all witnessed and cringed when they saw the Sheriff and our moving van...cuz they knew it was coming...."Perennial Pete" pulled a fast one last year on the city and had out street rezoned and made it so there would be no parking on either side of the street....had signs posted and tickets handed out and everything....that took months of city meetings and arguing to get that mess all straightened out.
Heard enough? Yes I could go on and on....

The point of all this? Yesterday the weather was beautiful. I'd had enough unpacking of boxes. I decided to get my hands dirty and just pull a couple of weeds. Well, one thing lead to another, and when I finished with the weeds I decided I didn't like the Creeping Myrtle that was around one of the trees out front. I think Creeping Myrtle is nasty stuff. It is a bully of a plant...takes over everything....choking the life out of other plants. As I stood there debating on yanking these plants out of the ground, I thought about how I feel when I see the changes the new owners have made to my gardens. Will the previous owners drive by and cry out "Why, oh why, did she do that to the poor Myrtle?" Even more gardening schizophrenic thoughts....I wondered if "Perennial Pete" would call the Sheriff on me....

I decided to yank away...and proudly, I only looked over my shoulder across the street a few dozen times.

trash talk via the welcome wagon lady

The Welcome Wagon Lady stopped by a few days ago. I didn't know they even existed anymore. In all our moves (which isn't a lot mind you), I've never had one stop by before. I knew there was such a thing because my step mom, Ann, was one way back in the 80's.

But it was great. She came in with this big basket of brochures and advice....
And she looked so "chicagoie"! She was an older retired woman. Beautifully dressed in a satiny sundress. When she wasn't out "welcoming" she must have been at the gym working out. Her hair was perfect, her nails were perfect, her jewelry coordinated perfect....nothing like me...i kinda hated her....just kidding! (ok maybe a little)

And I did have lots of questions.... Things are done a little differently around here, I could see that already.

First there was the trash issue. Back in Kalamazoo, you called one of the two trash removal companies when you moved in, they brought you a "herbie curbie", you put your garbage in it, they picked it up every Wednesday, you paid you bill monthly, the end.

Hubby and I noticed some of the neighbors had "herbies", but driving around you could also see hundreds of different "trash receptacles" (we live in a HUGE neighborhood...biggest in the state of IL...just a little factoid for you). And then we noticed these strange stickers on everyone's garbage. So I was confused, and ready to get my garbage removal services underway....considering I was up to my neck in it already!

And Hubby was obviously ready to get on with it too. He kept "reminding me" to ask one of the neighbors about the trash. There in lies another one of my "issues"....which will have to be a whole other blog entry....let's just say that I didn't do it. It slipped my mind (yeah, that's what I'll say)

So as the Welcome Wagon Lady is going through her "spiel" she pulls out a brochure on trash pick up. And I say "Oh good, I was wondering how this all works....my husband and I have some questions....." She politely interrupts and sweetly says "just read the brochure....it will explain it all...." Then she looks me in the eye, pauses and smiles and moves onto the next brochure and professionally continues with her "welcoming spiel".

I close my half open mouth like a chastised child and feel myself blush (yes! blush!) Like talking about trash is a dirty thing or something. Is talking about trash a taboo here?

It must be, because she elaborated extensively on many other non-trash topics. Don't get me wrong...it was a great visit and I learned a lot about living in the area....just nothing on trash.

So the minute she walks out the door, I grab that brochure and sit down and read it. This must be a chicagoland conspiracy....now I'm even more confused! This stupid brochure doesn't explain a thing! I bet that W.W. Lady was laughing in her little BMW as she drove away "Ha ha another sucker! Let her try and figure our trash pick up system out" I know, now I'm sounding pyschotic....I'm sure she didn't do that....

So I call the number on the brochure and speak to a professionally trained trash talker....
And she does a good job explaining it all to me. It only takes twice for me to get it....
I won't bore you with all the "trashy" details (sorry-heehee). But I will say I opted for the easy route of trash pick up...even though it costs a small fortune....my life is too complicated for weighing my trash and buying silly stickers for certain "types" of trash...

It's all garbage to me.