this is me in grade nine, baby

the boys just made lunch and, sitting at the table, sheepishly, asked if they could take the food downstairs, so they could continue playing Halo.
of course I said "goodbye"

the oldest is 15 and finished grade nine. the youngest turns 14 in a matter of weeks and begins grade nine. their childhood is as diametrically opposed to mine as you can get. don't get me wrong. I don't blame my parents. *I* made my choices.

like doing handstands all day
against the brick of our house
which irritated the neighbour
which made me do it longer

like signing up for summer school, realizing what that meant and going to my friend's trailer instead

like eating kraft dinner with dill pickle chips and ketchup and watching days of our lives

like sitting outside, in the backyard, on the concrete, eating toasted tomato sandwiches and drinking swiss mocha instant coffee, with mel.
that was also the summer I tried the scrambler
and smoking

mel lived with us
she collected forks and hid them under her bed

two of my friends attempted suicide
I got my first real job
I quit my first real job
I also started dating

This is Me in Grade Nine, Baby by the Barenaked Ladies would have been a handy song back then.

I should write things on my hand more often

there was a picnic after church today, at the church we are currently going to (I felt I should clarify that since we are locally known as church gypsies).
I took along some coleslaw and a quart sized bag of oatmeal chocolate chip cookies. I did not bake the cookies myself, but that fact should not lessen the point I am about to make.

the hamburgers were yummy.
I am sure the hotdogs were, also.
I did not want the coleslaw, which Neal found humerous especially since I personally brought two containers. Neal took some. I couldn't really tell if anyone else had bothered. It did not look incredibly appetizing to me.
I was, however, very impressed with the number of deviled eggs.
there are never anywhere close to enough deviled eggs at functions.
I felt totally justified in eating one on the spot and gingerly placing a second on my plate.
I surveyed the dessert table.
very adequate.
I made a mental note: there are still a TON of cookies left, for me to take home later and eat discreetly during the week.
awesome.

the picnic ended happily enough and we were partway down the road when I loudly announced "I forgot to go back inside and take what was left of MY cookies!" I was expecting Neal to turn around and take me back, so I could rescue my distressed cookies.

he did not.

I have actually been off and on grumpy about this fact all day.
(I obviously need to keep going to church)

then I decided to visit my garden and noticed that there were things begging to be harvested.
I like planting but not so much harvesting. I said to the boys "last chance to pick strawberries", then promptly spit out mine 'cause it tasted like bad wine. apparently I can be really funny now and then. I was not trying to be funny.
this did sort of make me smile, though, ... a little.



even if it isn't a cookie.
and, no, I do not have a head wound.
and, yes, I do look a bit like a hungarian washer woman or something.

I do so ... sometimes

in case you think I *only* sit on chairs and read books while the men in my life do *everything*, I have proof:

wow

last night I dreamt I went to my husband's office. while there, I managed to:

1. accidentally set off the security alarm. in case you were wondering, yes, the sound was both piercing and obviously my fault.

2. get asked to take minutes for a meeting of over 150 people because of my vast minute taking experience with art in the park, petrolia. (because that would happen in real life)

3. participate in a sweet, coreographed lego battle complete with stage and set, as listed under subsection 5.0 on the agenda. my facial expressions during the mechanical crab vs. spider on a stick scene were prime. you had to be there. I was given the spider on a stick, f.y.i. and I mertalized the crab. oh yeah.

then I woke up.

I figure this could be the result of a possible two circumstances:

1. I got a tetanus shot yesterday that I wasn't expecting

2. I ate at king's buffet ... it's mostly chinese ... I ate a lot

and this is why I eschew camping

not sure why my fb status doesn't show up on blogger. not that I write anything earth-shattering as my status, but still ... if something is offered as an option, I will always say 'yes', as a matter of principle. in any case, today I will write my status out for you, like a segue:

Kristina Campbell dreamt she saw her first bear. It was huge. I was pathetic.

am I the only one who analyzes my dreams as they are happening? I can totally change it up, too, if I am so inclined.

in this dream, I was in a pretty open field. like at camp. I like camp. I do not like camp-ing. I never sleep when we go camping. ever. there is always someone right smack dab next to us who decides that drinking a 2-4 on their own is a good idea (because of course 'they' are never obnoxious when 'they' are drunk, everyone else is). oh, and they don't need a lick of sleep either. and they speak french. and i inevitably end up yelling at them around 4 a.m.
ask my family.

so, last night, as i am walking through this pretty open field (meaning the field was generally spacious, not attractive) I see a bear. big, light brown with dark brown accents and massive. I look around me, quickly, to plan my evasive manoeuver. I think how I should have had this worked out previously, just in case. I see some cabin-type buildings to my right, quite some distance off, with trees nicely interspersed. I like trees. I liked how they were randomly placed, like this was a real forest at one point.

I hadn't decided if the bear had seen me or not. I was hoping for not. mostly, I was overcome by the fact that I did not know what I was supposed to be doing in this scenario. if you know me at all, you understand that I have an innate need that drives me most of the time; a serious need to believe, in myself, that I am doing the 'right' thing at all times (unless, of course, I have purposely chosen to do the 'wrong' thing, usually out of spite). I was disturbed. I ran into a bathroom stall and stood on the seat.

just like I used to do in grade school when I didn't want to go outside for recess.

freud?

... and they will become one flesh

The man and his wife were both naked, and they felt no shame.

I was outside this morning, weeding and mulching in an attempt to beautify the overgrown, crowded mess that is my garden.

Lots of places are conducive to deep thoughts and my garden happens to be one of them.

Most of the time it's a subconscious thing.
I don't walk to my garden specifically because I hope to take from the well of deep; it just happens.

Like dreaming.

My poppies are in full bloom at the moment and their stunning presence started my train of thought. Red poppies symbolize the subconscious, sleep and death but also the promise of ressurection. I didn't know that. It got me thinking about the garden of Eden. More specifically, my thoughts centered around Eve.

Why, I wondered, when she had everything else at her fingertips, did she insist on eating that apple?
Why did it hold such intense appeal for her?

The account in the book of Genesis is, to me, honestly, quite boring and non-descript.
No flowery adjectives, no lengthy discourse on the quality of the fruit. Not even a hint at Eve having considered the tree much at all before the more crafty than any of the wild animals came along and suggested it.

It simply states: When the woman saw that the fruit of the tree was good for food and pleasing to the eye, and also desirable for gaining wisdom, she took some and ate it

why?

Was it the brightest colour, the most fragrant or the perfect shape?
And, after she made the decision to literally take hold of it, did she have instant regret? Any doubts? Second thoughts?

Did she hope, in the depth of her heart, that she would be found out ... before?
Had she wanted someone to stop her?
Did she really not know what she was doing, like an emotional disconnect?

that taste
that first bite

Was it even sweet?
Was it everything she argued with herself that it would be?
Was it the jusiest?
the most moist?
Was there any pleasure at all, in the end?
Did it even satiate?

Or was it sour, turning her stomach ever so slightly; that single choice lingering on the tip of her tongue, haunting her for the rest of her life?


so many questions I'm dying to ask
am I moving too slow?,
am I going too fast?
don't wanna miss it
when it walks through my door
will it look like I want it
will it leave me wanting more ...

the first of many ...

ch ch ch changes

I have had a ridiculous number of changes in my life recently that have forced things to turn in ways I never thought they would. I suppose it is rather ironic that I am so wigged out at times over this as change really should be my middle name. I am spur of the moment, surprising even myself sometimes. Neal even gets in on the act now and then, like last Tuesday night, when he ordered an Ice Cap.

I seriously thought it was Armageddon.

Some of the changes are way not cool. Some are fantastic. Almost all are out of my control, thus my ensuing panic. In any case, it gives me reason to blog, and I am ok with that ... for now.

Tomorrow I start a new "paying" job, to clarify for the three people who insulted me last week by suggesting it is great that I am finally "contributing" and that "any job" is a good thing for me.

so.bit.my.tounge.

I am not entirely sure I have processed the "it's over Kristina" part. The only reasonable thing to do, now, is to plan the next time. (especially since I have noted that Cincinnati is all about the hotdog)

did he buy this?

happiest of birthdays, in TN


it so IS Skyline time!