tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-90305992244650092812024-03-13T20:22:47.143-07:00Pottery Plants and PaintingJane Elizahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16694341279557897280noreply@blogger.comBlogger34125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9030599224465009281.post-5452342275903900462019-01-22T19:05:00.000-08:002019-02-06T04:38:21.751-08:00Deleted the LIFE JAM PLAN on accidentHave you ever started to write something and accidently delete the whole fucking thing? I just did that and of course I thought what I was writing was pretty good but apparently it wasn't meant to be. LOLOLOLOLOL! What the hell?<br />
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Must have fucked up on the wording of it, so the world figured it shouldn't be read. Here we go again:<br />
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I woke up this morning and decided that every day I am going to organize it around the woman I am and not let life get in the way. The woman I am is incredibly successful and ready to change the world in a better way.<br />
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First I need money to do the things I want, of course, and lot's of it. NOT in a greedy way: well maybe a little greed, but also alot of good for the world. I have this cleaning business and I have a fuck-ton of other entrepreneurial ideas but I need one of them to start making lots of money first. Then I can move to the next things; because, let's face it, if you want to do much of anything you need some damn money. Right now I've had it set up where I am making ok money to provide for me and the kiddos. While saving some and spending a little. The things I would like to do to help make the world a better place I need alot more money.<br />
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With that being said here is a quick run down of my<b><span style="font-size: large;"> Life Jam Plan:</span></b><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>1.</b> Every morning I am going to imagine the amazingness of what I am going to accomplish: like a fucking killer body, kickass house, sweet business, really great kids, endless money coming in..oh yeah and a nice car BUT the main thing is the next phase of imagining which is making the world a better place (no you do not get details on that just yet)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>2</b>. Plan the day as the successful woman I am: for instance: does this woman get up and drink loads of cream and sugar in her coffee to start the day and a crappy breakfast?? NO: she has a very healthy herbal tea concoction (not marijuana: for christs sake: herbs like: lavendar, echinacea, chamomile, green tea etc) and a well rounded breakfast to fuel her body. Then she works diligently on organizing and growing her business, spending, then working out and planning vacations etc. etc.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"> That's it my plan quick and simple. I will keep you posted on the progress...</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">P.S. I bet you are wondering what's up with that picture huh??</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"> I don't really know...it's making me laugh my ass off, so I thought you might like it too</span><br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;">ahahahahahhahaah</span></b>
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Jane Elizahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16694341279557897280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9030599224465009281.post-3994238362621717192019-01-20T15:16:00.000-08:002019-01-23T14:44:49.417-08:00Wintery Walks<br />
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The last 3 weeks I have been working on my health and it feels amazing. I was having so much anxiety: anxiety attacks, odd pains in my chest, every once in awhile I could feel my heart beat differently for a moment. I was feeling sluggish, unhealthy, cranky etc. I decided at the beginning of the year that that day would be the start of a brand new and healthy life for now on.<br />
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Now that I am not over-indulging on sugars and food I am rediscovering the love for flavors of food. I made a salmon in my iron skillet the other day, normally it tastes ok. This time it tasted delicious. It flaked perfectly and the flavor was exactly the mouth watering savory I needed. Yogurts are so thick and delectable, rich and smooth. I can taste the sweetness to almonds and savor the delicious aromas of different spices. I forgot how savory and wonderful they are: cinnamon, cloves, oregano, ginger, basil, cilantro, parsley, different teas and herbs, all of these wonderful flavors that I have not been noticing until recently.<br />
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I love taking walks and runs: the way my muscles feel when they are warming up and moving, the way my lungs and heart feel, how my blood runs through warming everything up. Breathing in the fresh crisp air is rejuvenating and uplifting. It is quite a high. For some reason I lost touch of all of that. Long wintery runs and walks are so refreshing and meditative. The smells wafting from homes in the quiet stillness of the snowfall are heartwarming and sweet. Hearing the wind blow and watching it catch the snow and dance in the air while feeling the coldness on my face. Wow, it's such an awesome experience, I feel so incredibly grateful to feel.<br />
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This is going to be one hell of an amazing year.<br />
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<br />Jane Elizahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16694341279557897280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9030599224465009281.post-52261111856600609832018-10-25T19:23:00.003-07:002018-10-26T15:17:44.042-07:00I google this shit so I can laughBahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha<br />
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Go fuck yourself, Mayo Clinic. That shit is wishful thinking:<br />
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Structure,<br />
Limits,<br />
Don't feel guilty<br />
Lean on others (who are these others??)<br />
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Bahahahahahahahaha: now tears<br />
<br />Jane Elizahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16694341279557897280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9030599224465009281.post-6305846246050100672018-10-25T17:59:00.000-07:002018-10-25T17:59:28.414-07:00Is it Harrassment???According to google the definition of Harrassment is:<br />
Aggressive pressure or intimidation<br />
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My children do this to me. They aggressively try to pressure me to do things for them I do not want to do: examples;<br />
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Child "Can I have chocolate milk?"<br />
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Me "No honey, you just had ice cream, that is too much sugar for your body."<br />
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Child "Can I have chocolate milk?"<br />
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Me "No honey, you can not."<br />
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Child "Can I have chocolate milk?"<br />
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Me "No."<br />
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Child "Can I have chocolate milk?"<br />
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Me "No."<br />
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Child opening refrigerator getting milk to make it anyway.<br />
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Me holding milk until child takes hand off "I said no."<br />
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Child attempts to hit me. Then throws self on ground screaming. Continues screaming and kicking for at least 15 minutes (probably closer to a minute or two but damn it feels like a looooooooong time).<br />
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Then other child says while first child is still throwing tan trum over no chocolate milk:<br />
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2nd Child "Where is the remote?"<br />
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Me "I do not know, you are in there and I am in the kitchen. You can find it better then me."<br />
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2nd Child begins whimpering. Meanwhile other child is banging feet on the fridge due to no chocolate milk.<br />
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Me cleaning kitchen.<br />
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Third child "Mom where is my long sleeve shirt."<br />
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Me "It is in the washer." (I would tell child to put it in the dryer but she is only two).<br />
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2nd child: "Mom, I need the remote!"<br />
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Me: "Look under couch, in cushions etc"<br />
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2nd child "I did it is nowhere!" Starting to cry<br />
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1st child banging feet on floor over and over chanting: "Chocolate milk. Chocolate milk. Chocolate Milk."<br />
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3rd child "I need long sleeves, long sleeves." Getting upset now.<br />
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2nd child throws self on floor "I need the remote!!"<br />
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This is intimidation in numbers. 3 little ones loud and crying is quite aggressive, if you ask me. It feels like Harrassment, so it must be. There needs to be a hotline for this type of scenario: "Yes, my 2 year old is threatening physical harm to me if I do not get her her long sleeve shirt out of the wash and magically dry it in seconds."<br />
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Hotline person "Are you safe?"<br />
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Me " I'm hiding under the bed with a flashlight."<br />
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Hotline Person "Where is 2 year old?"<br />
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Me whispering "She's systematically opening each door looking for me and walking around each room. It's a matter of minutes befor I am discovered. I'm frightened, very frightened."<br />
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Hotline Person "Do you have any hard liquor or chocolate?"<br />
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Me "Yes, downstairs in the kitchen."<br />
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Hotline Person "Follow these directioms very carefully 1. Slide out from under bed and tip toe down to kitchen 2. Get liquor and chocolate 3. Swig as much liquor as you can 4. Eat all the chocolate<br />
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Me "It won't work, nothing works. They just fi.........................." Whispers "She's openimg the door , I think I've been discovered." Now loud "Noooooooo, I can not magically dry your shirt!!! Noooo, do not hurt me........" Then silence.....<br />
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Hotline person "Hello, are you there? Hello? Hello? Ohhhhh god no, get the police over there........"<br />
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<br />Jane Elizahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16694341279557897280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9030599224465009281.post-42055042577215292292018-10-20T12:42:00.000-07:002019-01-22T19:30:01.780-08:00Who likes Warm Surprises???We are all sitting in the living room, hanging out, minding our own business (just me and the 3 kiddos). My crazy little wild haired 2 year old comes over to me with something cupped in her hand. She has an alarmed look on her face and slowly stretches her arm out to give it to me.<br />
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I am not even thinking, at this point. It was too sudden. Too out of the blue.<br />
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She gingerly drops it in my hand. I feel something small, soft and warm.<br />
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My first thought is Ohmigod its a fucking mouse!!!<br />
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Then realization hits.<br />
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I realize it is a very small turd shaped similar to a mouse sitting in my hand.<br />
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<br />Jane Elizahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16694341279557897280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9030599224465009281.post-61751582918399386152018-10-15T12:01:00.001-07:002019-05-06T14:14:33.426-07:00I seriously lied to you.. <br />
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I decided to leave this post, as it's all part of the motion of life. Note: the relationship did not work out. We weren't right for each other so I ended it. Think it was kind of mutual...<br />
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I was so completely done with relationships, busy planning my life solo. Have to say it was damn hard to do; with seeing men just walking around all over the place. Like, really, don't they know that I need to not see them, especially when they are extra attractive?<br />
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I wrote about the perfect guy for me and decided he was a figment of my imagination. Well apparently I already knew him. Between that post and now, I am in a relationship with the EXACT guy I thought I made up <i>and</i> I was already friends with him. What the fuck, right? So yeah I lied about not dating.<br />
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And it was really hard to NOT date for as long as I did. One day when I had my internet hooked up, the dude that shows up to fix it, was ridiculously attractive. I about closed the damn door in his dreamy blue-eyed face. Instead I just stayed in the other room and tried to not look at him. What is wrong with guys like that? Showing up to hook up my internet with a face and body like that? Come on now..<br />
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Obviously my singledom didn't last as long as I had planned. I am now in a committed relationship and actually....wait for it.....happy about it. All those people who said just do you and forget about a relationship, yeah I guess they might know a little something. That is when we found each other, he was doing the same thing; saying to himself fuck relationships. Now I just need to not fuck it up.<br />
Much easier said then done.<br />
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One thing that needs to happen is my kids need to stop being psycho when they are around him. They love him and want him around but all their crazy little energy comes off in ways like hitting each other, whining and asking for things in high-pitched nails-on-chalkboard type of voices and anything else kids might do when they are getting used to a change. How does anyone deal with this? I do not know how even I do, at all. How is my brain even working anymore ?<br />
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I keep thinking that me and my crazy little monsters are going to scare him off for good. So far he is sticking around, we even talk about the future and make plans: he does this too, not just me. Damn I wonder how did this happen, I was supposed to be single forever and now am with a dude I really like. Its a good thing cause maybe I'll stop being mad at all the men just, you know, living their lives and walking around for me to see... Now I don't even notice them, imagine that?Jane Elizahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16694341279557897280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9030599224465009281.post-21594947375319790862018-10-11T18:03:00.003-07:002018-10-15T10:36:40.960-07:00Say NO and DO NOT APOLOGIZE, To everyone ALL THE TIMEFor some reason many people (definitely not me, I have never done this...ever) think they should be saying yes to people every time someone asks them to do something; like can you pet my cat 7 days next week while I'm out of town, so she's not lonely, or cousin invites you to bridal shower so you can give up your weekend night to spend at least a 100 bucks on her even though you see each other once a year, if that, or your friends kids birthday party: to buy kid a present and take time to buy the damn present, wrap it, waste at least 5 more bucks on the damn card and hope you have some saved wrapping paper at home so as not to waste more money on that, then you still have to go to the party and this friend (questionable friendships) rarely makes efforts for you or how about when your parents guilt trip you into going shopping with them and you despise it?When most of those things basically give you severe nightmares thinking about it. You would rather eat a slug then go or maybe a plate of ants. So I say to hell with it! Do you and your own plans it is much better for your mental health.<br />
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I think the same about apologizing. Why apologize to anyone when you are not goddammed sorry. When you are out in public and someone bumps into you and <i>you</i> apologize?? Oh hell no, just stare at them until they get scared and run off or t<i>hey</i> can fucking apologize?!? Apologizing takes away some of your power and makes you look like a scared frightened little rabbit. And nope, apologies are for the birds or maybe rabbits. Not tough empowered tiger people...which is what we all want to be, least I pretend I am.<br />
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<br />Jane Elizahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16694341279557897280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9030599224465009281.post-35820909100786929682018-10-07T11:14:00.002-07:002018-10-07T11:14:44.243-07:00Last week until Dream Goal is happeningNext week is my last full week of work then I will be working 3 days at cleaning houses/my old business and the other two will be working on my art business from home. I am nervous and excited about the change. Nervous that the art business will <i>not</i> pan out and no longer working those two days=less money. I could loose too much money <i>but</i> I have some back up money saved for bills and it will get me through the winter if needed: yet I would rather save it. I have a budget worked out so I should be fine.<br />
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Putting that aside I am very excited and do know that I have the past experience and self-confidence to turn my art into a really productive business, yet I know it will take time to grow, as anything does. There are so many things I could do to make money: although, I think it is best to keep it narrowed down and focused to one area then maybe extend to other areas or businesses.<br />
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I feel like a quitter with the cleaning business but it is definitely serving/has served it's purpose. Making money, paying bills, savings and a great stepping stone to doing what I really love: creating and writting. The decision to do this was really hard. Fear was the ultimate factor in keeping me from moving forward with my dreams. Then after thinking on it for months, possibly years to get me to now, I decided that I will never know until I try. Thinking about the worse that could happen if I fail lead me to my decision to move forward. The worse that could happen is I am not making enough money then I will have to pick the cleaning business back up, find a different job or money making means. Honestly, if that is the worst that could happen what the hell am I waiting for?? So here I am planning out the next month to follow my dream...Jane Elizahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16694341279557897280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9030599224465009281.post-40036458294525267972018-10-01T19:59:00.004-07:002018-10-01T19:59:55.308-07:00Single Momming and Following a DreamBeing a single mom and following a dream is like this :<br />
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Yep. Just. Like. That.<br />
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<br />Jane Elizahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16694341279557897280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9030599224465009281.post-29773621710136089882018-10-01T19:50:00.000-07:002018-10-01T19:52:27.268-07:00Monday FundayToday; a monday, went halfway decent. Monday's usually do. A full week with littles is like this;<br />
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Monday morning: everyone gets up, gets ready, minimal fighting and arguing. Kids go to school, I go to work, pick them up, go home, dinner, baths (actually who am i kidding; baths that is a weekend thing, kids don't get dirty, right?) I meant to say: dirty kids nothing wipes (ok washcloths cause who wants to waste money on wipes, when washcloths can just be washed) can't handle. Then go to bed, minimal crying.<br />
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Tuesday: Noone gets up too early but they get up and get dressed, eat, go to school, go to work, come home, kids start stuffing faces because they can not wait for you to cook something, they fight and argue. Go to bed<br />
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Wednesday: Are NOT waking up, definitely late, no shower for me .Go to school, go to work. Pick kids up, they fight the whole way home. Food is made and left out. Toys are strewn across house. Im too tired to care. Pass out at night.<br />
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Thursday: 5-10 minute shower in while 2 year old beats on door. Older kids not getting up. Finally they do and are crying, whining and fighting. Feed them Campbell's chicken noodle soup for breakfast and bananas. I drink coffee and wish I could sit down and eat something. Shoes are lost, homework is gone, jackets have disappeared, house is a crazy disaster. Go to school, go to work. Come home see breakfast still on table. Half ass clean up while watching kids fight each other and spread more toys throughout house. Want to throw toys in trashcan: dream about it. But don't, cause then how would they entertain themselves so you can get a second of peace: oh wait they forgot how to do that anyway. Pass out.<br />
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Friday: Hair is in a huge knot, no makeup, black coffee cause too lazy to pour something in it. Kids fighting?? Dont even know anymore...maybe? Go to someplace, come home, sit on couch and don't move. Kids eat anything they want.<br />
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Weekend: rest, rejuvenate<br />
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Repeat<br />
<br />Jane Elizahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16694341279557897280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9030599224465009281.post-47514418558807461512018-09-26T09:03:00.001-07:002018-09-26T09:03:20.112-07:00Fuck PerfectionI used to try and strive for everything to be perfect and I just had a realization that you know what? Fuck it, fuck that, fuck perfection. No one and nothing is perfect, as we all know. And I am <i>especially not perfect.</i> My art is not, my writting is not, my body is not, everything I am, do and around me is not perfect. So with that realization being had, I am dropping all these stupid projected ideas. I will present my art, blog and everything I do as not goddamned perfect because it is a reflection of everything around me which is un-perfect. If the form in my art sucks I no longer care, if my words are not spelled properly fuck it. This is me and this is how I present to anyone who gives a shit to take a look. Maybe I will sell a few un-perfect things, maybe I won't. Maybe people will like this blog and maybe they will hate it but damn it's worth it because at least I decided to put it all out there and see what happens.<br />
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Here is my sweet little 2 and a half year olds piece of art which is perfect:<br />
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<br />Jane Elizahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16694341279557897280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9030599224465009281.post-60221851735753507482018-09-09T19:27:00.001-07:002018-09-26T08:17:41.277-07:00Blind Decision Making<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Today I made a decision for better or worse, who knows at this point. I savagely pushed the first domino so we will see what happens next. </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I am cutting back on work, going to spend more time at home and CREATE shit. Write, create, imagine and see where the fuck it takes me.</span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> For my entire </span>life<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">, I have always been a dreamer. Now I am going to go ahead and ride the waves of my dreams (maybe doggy paddle through them??) and see where I end up. This short life of mine, for now on I am going to own it and stop letting my fears and worries make decisions for me. All those past decisions have done is make me feel stressed out and constantly rub my eye hoping it will make the eye twitch go away. Right</span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> now, I don't even have a good plan, so I am just going to dive in the water and hope it isn't too deep or dark. Typically when I make a change I plan the whole thing out. This time I can't for some reason, there is a block in the plan. There is a rough outline in my mind of how it is going to work, but I think just doing it will help guide the path. </span><br />
<br />Jane Elizahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16694341279557897280noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9030599224465009281.post-59551437813654975202018-04-11T20:10:00.000-07:002018-04-11T20:10:15.730-07:00Business Woman, Balance, The MasculineWorking so hard to support my family, my personality has changed by it. I have noticed my attitudes and thought processes have changed to be more serious and logical, more cut and dry. This traditionally has been thought of as a masculine role. Yet I do not feel masculine in any way, still me, still a mother, still an artist, just more practiced in logic, negotiations and business. Right now I feel powerful, alive and ready for the next obstacle. I feel like a strong woman taking life and being in control of it. Then I ponder how amazing it is that as a woman I can do this. I am thankful for the feminists before me, thankful for the feminists today and thankful for all of the hard work I have put into making my life better each day. I hope one day the things I do now, the past and in the future inspire my daughters, my son and other women to tackle every obstacle that comes their way with hope and determination.Jane Elizahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16694341279557897280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9030599224465009281.post-15454663851336551232018-02-27T17:56:00.000-08:002018-02-27T17:56:06.076-08:00Beer, Music and PaintI am looking at this blank screen and thinking about how much I want to write, work on my web-site, paint and take a damn uninterrupted shower while drinking beer and listening to music. I think the shower, beer and music wins....Jane Elizahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16694341279557897280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9030599224465009281.post-16855045372392551482018-02-24T13:31:00.001-08:002018-10-26T16:42:46.160-07:00Stolen Moments<div dir="ltr">
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The hot water runs down my back</div>
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It wraps around, almost a hug</div>
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I stretch my arms up to the wall and lean forward</div>
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Each day is not so hard</div>
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Yet my body is telling me it is</div>
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I have not cried in months</div>
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I need too but can't</div>
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The warm shower helps me feel better for a few moments</div>
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Then i step out</div>
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As soon as the faucet is off</div>
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The familiar sound of my daughter's cries and footsteps are quickly at the door</div>
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Hardly a moment to myself</div>
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They stand outside the door chatting, whining, turning the knob</div>
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The love in my heart is so full</div>
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Yet my body is so worn</div>
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Stolen moments for myself, is a must</div>
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For there is high demand for when I return<br />
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Jane Elizahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16694341279557897280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9030599224465009281.post-33103659253738066572018-02-02T19:49:00.001-08:002018-09-29T08:43:15.262-07:00Eye-twitches and Screechy Voices<br />
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It has been hard to write lately. I've had this permanent under eye twitch for about two weeks now. It won't go away and it's driving me even crazier then I already am.<br />
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Super hard to find time to do things I like to do: blog, art, fix my hair, makeup, go shopping, take walks, make cool things, go on weekend trips, hang out with grown-ups, go see a freakin movie. Damn all of that-forget it.<br />
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Then I feel so bad every time they go to their Dad's, yet I am secretly waiting for it. By the time two weeks go by I am ready to spend some time alone. It is very hard being a mother (and a single one too) and also an introvert. My thoughts are constantly interrupted. I hear the word mom and it is like nails on a chalkboard. I will be standing right next to them and instead of just telling me what they want to say they screech out "MOM" in this high-pitched screechy voice, and I cringe when i hear it. I know they are about to complain or need something.Jane Elizahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16694341279557897280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9030599224465009281.post-91067986477496051072017-12-29T19:50:00.003-08:002017-12-29T19:50:47.503-08:00Hypochondriac Kiddo's Illnesses I used to be a hypochondriac, now I am like that with the kids. Anything wrong with me, I think to myself: " I'll just power through it. No big deal." and I even almost forget that I am sick or there might actually be something wrong with me. <br />
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When the kids are sick I start thinking they might have cancer or some deadly disease. I get really worried and stare at them thinking I can figure out what the disease is by the way they are breathing.<br />
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I am fully aware these thoughts are a little nuts. Lately instead of indulging on them and making myself cry. I am reminding myself that I am in charge of my own thoughts. I have actually been able to, almost stop those thoughts before they manifest into me having a panic attack over the kids having a runny nose for christs sake; what I was literally doing. Now I am taking (what I think is the healthier approach) pushing the thoughts out of my head. Paying attention to the kiddos (as I always did, but not in a freak out manner) and if something seems off, just go to the dr.<br />
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Seems so simple but goddamn as a hypochondriac, by the time we made it to the dr I was sure it was cancer or something dire. Now I'm actually able to walk into the Dr.'s office with my whole head on straight and not a crazy person.<br />
<br />Jane Elizahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16694341279557897280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9030599224465009281.post-14612920052177194982017-12-27T19:28:00.001-08:002017-12-27T19:35:06.126-08:00Crazy Sick MonthIt has been a crazy month and a half. I am so happy to say that Christmas happened and it went, well it went. So glad it is now over.<br />
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We have been sick with one sickness right on top of the other since mid-November. With three littles I have had no time for anything. I've been lucky I have been able to get to work most days. I think I have maybe slept a total of 3 uninterrupted hours throughout the month. I feel like I just had a baby with my lack of sleep.<br />
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As soon as one child wakes up, the other two mess with me. I swear they know right when I am about to fall back asleep and they jump up and need something.<br />
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I think I might be dreaming and will wake up and laugh at the craziness of it. Can you imagine dreaming that I had my very own place with three amazing children and we all get sicker than shit for over a month with different illnesses. All hell breaks loose.....damn what a dream. ..... oh wait it's reality....lololololololololololol...insane laughter.<br />
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I'm pretty sure the neighbors have to hate our guts at this point. When kids are sick it's not fuckin pretty. It is not happy and it is very loud at unreasonable times. My apartment has paper thin walls, you can pretty much here an entire conversation from next door and they at least talk in normal voices, unlike us over here. I can only imagine the horrific sounds coming from my house during this time of sickness.<br />
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My daughter: screeching every time she bumps herself on the wall. My son crying anytime someone looks at him. There has been plenty of fighting among the children, arguments, tantrums unnecessary yelling, they keep flicking the door stopper to listen to it boing (I tell them to stop, but you know how kids are): that has to be annoying as shit to hear the wall constantly making the echoey boing sound and so many loud voices, screams, screeches, and any obnoxious sound imaginable. The more I think about it the more I realize we probably sound like some weird and loud as fuck creatures. Dang, I can't wait for this sickness to go away! Maybe we will sound like a normal family again and be a normal family that makes normal human not creature sounds.<br />
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Nope that is dreaming way too big. We are doomed to always sound like creatures<br />
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<br />Jane Elizahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16694341279557897280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9030599224465009281.post-27236265942402591692017-12-09T12:51:00.002-08:002017-12-09T12:51:38.082-08:00Tears are StrengthTears force you to recognize your emotion<br />
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Face the issue at hand<br />
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They do not let you ignore the root of the problem<br />
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Your mind must work through it<br />
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That is strengthJane Elizahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16694341279557897280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9030599224465009281.post-8049656507695995342017-12-08T16:01:00.001-08:002017-12-09T12:42:15.662-08:00Guilty FreedomWhen the kids go to their Dad's for a few days I get super excited, but like that guilty excited. It feels wrong to be separated from them for short periods of time but then again I feel like a REAL mother-fucking person!<br />
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The first thing I do is clean my house and hide all the toys in the kid's rooms. It's insanely great and warm feeling to have a nice clean house to relax in, maybe even giddy.<br />
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Cleaning when the kids are home is utterly pointless. As soon as any room looks half-way decent they drag some toys in or tear it up one way or another, they will throw cushions on the floor, spill and drop every piece of food and/or drink that comes close to them, overflow the sink, play with the rugs, splash paint water on the walls, finger paint with poo......haha j/k! Might as well though!<br />
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I also lie to people and tell them I am super busy all weekend. This way I can do whatever the hell I want! Like work on my blog, paint, eat a lot of junk, sleep for hours and hours, watch Netflix and youtube videos uninterrupted, take a shower while listening to music, omg the anticipation! Terrible right?!?!<br />
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Home alone baby, I feel like a Queen!<br />
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Jane Elizahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16694341279557897280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9030599224465009281.post-21883112595394642242017-11-29T13:57:00.000-08:002018-09-26T09:08:08.222-07:00Single ForeverAnytime I hear someone talk about their ex, I side two different ways. Usually, when a woman is telling me about her ex, I'm like yeah, what an asshole, screw that dude. Who treats someone like that?? I have been there, I feel you! Dudes suck, who needs 'em??<br />
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Now when a guy is telling me about his ex first I'm like agreeing: oh yeah that sucks. Then as he's telling me more I'm just kind of looking at him. Then my arms are crossing and I'm sort of glaring at him, thinking what the fuck did you do to her? Jesus, dude quit being a dick-hole. Screw that I'd dump your ass so fast. In my mind I'm starting to see what is wrong with him and how he probably fucked up bad.<br />
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If I were to go out on a date: which I'm not doing cause when a dude let's me know about his ex I'm going to end up telling him where he fucked up and he better go apologize to her cause she deserves to be treated better. Then he will probably be like yeah, you are so right and there I am looking in my beer all by myself. How sad, right?<br />
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Haha, but not sad.<br />
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I seriously love doing whatever I want and not worrying about anyone else and there damn feels, except my kiddos of course. And you know, kids they have A LOT of feels. 24/7 feels. Non-stop. Never-ending. Things happening. Feelings need validation. Fights need mediation and lot's of boo-boos kissed (many that didn't even hurt but it was a little bump nonetheless).<br />
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No wonder I don't date, there is no time for that while dealing with kids and their feels. Much less all the baggage that alway's comes with a relationship. Too bad you can't just build a significant other. If I could my guy would be the shit. Every girl would want him. He would be handsome and healthy (doesn't have to be chiseled or anything just healthy), he would enjoy doing things: like cooking or building and have hobbies. He would have a decent job. Oh yeah and good at sex. Not fake good but for real good. Most of all he would just be a normal fucking human being that has interests and passions about things and cares about other people. That's it. Apparently, these qualities are very hard to come by. Why is that? It makes no sense<br />
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Jane Elizahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16694341279557897280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9030599224465009281.post-22840272207843411152017-11-29T13:33:00.002-08:002017-12-08T19:07:31.591-08:00Pepper GrinderToday I was cleaning a house and while wiping the counter saw an electric salt a pepper grinder set. My first thought was what the crap is that?<br />
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Then needed to try it out and see if it did what I thought it did. I picked it up and pressed the button on top, it ground the pepper for you and dispensed it.<br />
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On sale, the thing costs about 40 bucks. I'm imagining going to the store, seeing it and thinking to myself, I hate grinding my own pepper, I need that. And buying it. I think the idea is so the right amount of pepper is dispensed each time, but then doesn't it just dump it in one spot? How can you even sprinkle it around that way? It seems like an annoying contraption. I can see myself letting it dispense in my hand so I can sprinkle it around to each bite. I would probably end up getting frustrated because it isn't sprinkling pepper properly and throw it across the room.<br />
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Another thing I like to ponder is the electric trash can that opens when you press the button. I saw one at wal-mart for around 40 bucks and another at Macys for 100 bucks. I'm guessing the idea is you don't have to press your foot on the pedal to open it or use your hand to open or push the lid. How is pressing the button and waiting a half second to a second better than just opening it?? Then, of course, I would probably step on it wrong and break the damn thing.<br />
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Are these actually more convenient? If so maybe I will buy them for fun and dare myself to not break them.Jane Elizahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16694341279557897280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9030599224465009281.post-76583355050422478762017-11-28T18:45:00.001-08:002017-12-08T17:51:40.440-08:00VA-GIN-A Oh yes, this happened. I'm cooking and my little four-year-old boy is sitting at the table innocently coloring. Just so you can completely understand the humor in this: My little boy is a chubby/muscular little guy, with blond hair, green eyes, and a very expressive face. He is always making funny little poop and pee jokes or coming up with other little humorous tidbits. He is at the table coloring; which is very short-lived. He will color a few strokes or scribbles and tell his sister to finish his picture, and she will happily do it.<br />
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Luckily I am not facing him when he got really serious and let me know that while he was at daycare they went outside and it was really stinky. It smelled like VA-GIN-A.<br />
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That is what he said verbatim.<br />
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Thank god I was turned away from him, I almost dropped the pot I was draining, due to the surprise and sudden laughter boiling up in my throat. Oh my god, where the hell did he hear that?? I know it wasn't from me. I know it wasn't his Dad, as his Dad feels funny just hearing the word vagina, much less saying it.<br />
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I'm thinking holy crap, did he come up with this on his own?? He might have because whenever I change his baby sisters diaper he requests for me to not change her in the room he is playing in because of how stinky her poopy diapers are. He knows the correct words for genitalia so maybe he put it together and thought how her poopy diaper smells and she has a vagina in the diaper so, therefore, vaginas are stinky, like the outside was.<br />
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Finally, I get my shit together and ask him with a straight face where he heard that.<br />
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Of course. It was his little buddy at daycare.<br />
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Now I really want to see this kid's parents. Like what parents are walking around saying things smell gross like vaginas. Who are these people?? This is the kind of thing that is going to be really tough to teach my kids is NOT ok. Especially when their friends are saying it. It is only the beginning.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIhAOyJZjWlDCubTEWlJJWzjbj0xl3ylwYMXsfVfHLp1lW2o0EUvvbeOwq0jHquzcl7cdEh-kRvNumHyoLbDavQIRbHZm0c59RORXIgGMP78YBmvTkFpK1orOZUDN5QaI8zHPBQOozNqc/s1600/IMG_20171208_194932.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIhAOyJZjWlDCubTEWlJJWzjbj0xl3ylwYMXsfVfHLp1lW2o0EUvvbeOwq0jHquzcl7cdEh-kRvNumHyoLbDavQIRbHZm0c59RORXIgGMP78YBmvTkFpK1orOZUDN5QaI8zHPBQOozNqc/s640/IMG_20171208_194932.jpg"> </a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf0tLPjFsJtDtA_JUchbhB9fm1Eh5tfNIW-TJuRbtfCVQi8KF8O9A2_gEJg8Pm6Ts0iyyPowN2ycx-4o4Y11DT4X27HR4NIVX3MUO0T8P4QjSfjzj4AelDwo_WD4NGiMr5V2aACev5o4A/s1600/IMG_20171208_194954.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf0tLPjFsJtDtA_JUchbhB9fm1Eh5tfNIW-TJuRbtfCVQi8KF8O9A2_gEJg8Pm6Ts0iyyPowN2ycx-4o4Y11DT4X27HR4NIVX3MUO0T8P4QjSfjzj4AelDwo_WD4NGiMr5V2aACev5o4A/s640/IMG_20171208_194954.jpg"> </a> </div>Jane Elizahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16694341279557897280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9030599224465009281.post-54534597181695897642017-11-28T18:06:00.000-08:002017-12-08T19:12:06.218-08:00Stop Light ProtocolEveryone knows or should know, the little-unspoken rule: when you pull up to a red light you do NOT park directly parallel with the driver next to you, you pull a little ahead or stop a little before.<br />
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We all know there are people who do not know this rule. I was stuck next to one of these peeps.<br />
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First I am trying really hard not to look at them, as you know making eye-contact with a stranger is taboo and weird for everyone involved, especially if you are peering directly into their car. Then I'm thinking maybe I should look directly at this person who parked right freaking next to me. Don't they know, you are not supposed to do that??<br />
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I inch my car a little forward to break the uncomfortable nonsense. Then she does the same thing, inches forward. Now I'm thinking this person is screwing with me! I quickly look over and they are just quietly nonchalantly looking straight ahead. I'm thinking wtf?! I swear the light goes on for like ten minutes or maybe an eternity.<br />
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Finally, it turns green right when I was about to start honking and flipping them off. No, not really, I would have just kept sitting there awkwardly, like I did. Ha!<br />
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Bottom line, don't be weird when stopping at a red light.Jane Elizahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16694341279557897280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9030599224465009281.post-71120454085217266642017-11-28T17:54:00.002-08:002017-12-09T11:22:16.589-08:00Jammin' out in the Car<div dir="ltr">
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A few months ago I was driving around and was really ridiculously happy. I was thinking about life and how I'm KILLING it right now, in the best possible way.</div>
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Let's face it, I've made some pretty terrible choices in my younger years. Not these recent years, of course. Before. Not now. Anyway, besides the point, I was so happy so was jammin' out with the radio blaring, dancing and singing all the while driving. I was feeling awesome and on top of the world. </div>
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Nothing could or would bring me down.</div>
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Those are some powerful thoughts, by the way.</div>
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It must have been a few days later, I was driving to work or the store maybe and feeling pretty mellow and chill. There was an old pick-up truck in front of me with a man probably in his late 40's early 50's. He had the radio on and was fist punching the air and rocking out. He had his hair tied in a nice long ponytail, I could see the outline of his hair in my car.</div>
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You know what? I actually felt pretty uncomfortable witnessing his joyful air punching. It made me think about when I was rockin' it in my car, all the other people around me must have felt as uncomfortable watching me as I am watching rocker dude in front of me.</div>
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Not as cool looking as I thought. Not at all. I might re-think jammin' out in the car for now on....Or I can do it even more joyfully and gleefully<br />
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Jane Elizahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16694341279557897280noreply@blogger.com0