Showing posts with label peneloplight. Show all posts
Showing posts with label peneloplight. Show all posts

Monday, July 8, 2013

allo allo

Welcome to the summery days of little peace. Last night K.Lo had a sleepover and I was smart this time about ending it early today on a good note, rather than dragging it out to the point of (my) insanity. They always wake up a little off-kilter and before you know it, not only is the puppy across the street with her eff-you-I-can't-hear-you ears on, but one child is being bopped by another with an inner tube and screaming ensues. Be kind, people, be kind. And wear shoes while bike-riding, and a helmet too. 

I feel like it's been forever since my last correspondence, although I continue to write you letters in my mind and wonder why you don't receive them. Have we not worked out all the bugs in our telepathy program yet? They keep landing in your eyes, I think! The dead ant was horrifying, by the way, and the whole peach-picking attack. What an insult! Kind of like the epic battle with fruit flies I've been fighting in both the kitchen and my car, not to mention the miniscule ants and that terrible winged thing I saw by the sink this morning. Oh, July. 

I'd say it's my least favorite month, and maybe it is, but not really. There' are always silver linings, such as an almost anonymous ninja's visit! Which rocked. Although I hope we weren't too grumpy for her. J.Lo's sciatic nerve is fully pinched and its pain and inconvenience continue to radiate through all of us. However, we all enjoyed a lot of downtime and some driveway fireworks along with water balloon target practice. And some mini-tours through town. 

The white and purple calla lilies are blooming and the brown-eyed susans have unfurled. But don't clip those and arrange in a pitcher, as they will soon become wilty and sad. Not unlike myself in the humid-blanket-like heat. We're drawing straws on who gets to mow the front yard (I think I lost). I'll be taking care of that at dusk. 

Also my shipment of succulents (THANK YOUUUUU!!!) has taken up temporary home on the back pork, where they're growing roots before planting. I have a location all picked out, on the previously overlooked side-porch, although I might have to play puppy police there for awhile. Because some furry creatures have destructive agendas toward new plantings. Their names rhyme with Loafie, even though she is anything but. 

I haven't been Listening. I know. I'm not sure it's for me, like I can't help feeling like I'm playing on a Ouija board, though I know you'd completely disagree. But my mind just can't accommodate its possibilities at the moment. Too full. Too worried. To which you'd say, duh, it's the perfect time then. But I have to go about it in my own way, right now. (Uh-oh, I can already hear you railing in response!) 

But I do feel like, in spite of my resistance to the marriage book, I'm learning some things or absorbing some ideas anyway, about love. The daily work of love-as-action, in spite of what you're feeling. Important not only as a spouse, but as parent, friend, teacher. And yet sometimes so hard to execute... 

I hope you spot your fish soon, little pelican. Let's phone-chat soon! 
xoxox
pen

Wednesday, February 20, 2013

dear m-and-cath

Still snarfling, yes. I feel like the cold is progressing either for the better or maybe it's gearing up to infect my chest, ears and sinuses. Let's hope the former. Today I do feel more fully functional. And I ended up calling the job-place to confirm the fax receipt, rather than stopping by, because when it came down to it, I just didn't know what door to go into. True story. It's a small school with separate buildings and there seemed to be three options, but none of them obviously THE ONE, and then you know most schools keep their doors locked these days, so I really did not want to be That Person tramping about, trying to figure out which door was the right door and looking, best case, like an idiot, or worse case, like a creeper. So I called. They were friendly. They got my fax. The end.

Prepare yourself for some EXTREMELY CUTE PUPPY PICTURES, to be posted separately once my phone updates.

I love hearing about the motorbike riding. The name of it and everything. And I suppose dried out vegetation would be preferable to swampy leech-filled-ness, if one has to choose. I do love the pictures on Facebook, as well as your words! but DO need to know more about the snakes.

Tonight I have an epic-long bells practice, for performances both Friday night and Sunday morning? I have a question mark there because in spite of the email sent out the other day to clear things up, I still don't know exactly what we are playing and when. And then Friday's thing is part of a variety show, so it's supposed to be a little silly, which makes me think of the California Raisins claymation Christmas special, but then again, everything I play makes me think of the claymation Christmas special. And not being That Bell.

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New expression picked up from Community: "No sweat, Boba Fett." I hope it becomes a thing.
no sweat, boba fett!
xoxox and keep eating good food for me,
pen

Thursday, October 25, 2012

from the pen-archives

(Outtakes, because some are just sad, rather than funny-sad.)

“100 Ways to Get Through Work from Now Until January [Hey, maybe should do the same kind of list, m!]

100. Make paper chain w/ alternating colors in the manner of counting down for Christmas.

99. Use ALL of your vacation and personal time. That’s four personal days + six vacation = a whopping ten (underlined three times) days off. TAKE THEM.

 

95. Remember that

a) people are stupid

b) it’s just cell phones.

 

93. Who cares.

92. With money from said wretched job, buy once a month:

a) something cute to wear

b) something cute for the baby.

91. Think that if you can get through this, labor might be plausible.

90. And when you make it to labor, remember that at least you won’t be at work, talking to asshole New York Metro customers.

89. Think about what you want to rent next from Netflix.

88. Try to remember worse days and worse situations, i.e. working at the spa, or working at McD’s (think salt, heat and grease).

87. Imagine eating french fries at McD’s.

 

85. Break down time in Seinfeld-like increments: minus bathroom breaks, real breaks, hold times, call work, etc. – it’s like five minutes until the end of the day, really.

84. It is literally 3 hours and 45 minutes x 2 = 7 1/2 total possible time on the phone, really.

83. It’s just phone calls.

82. They’re just people.

81. You’re just “the company” while you’re there.

80. Pay attention to the people around you, having just as great a time as you are.

79. Pretend you’re dumb, like the girl down the row, thus making you less sensitive to customer attitude and your own mistakes.

78. Think of other places – London, Chicago, Paris.

77. Plan what you’ll eat for lunch or dinner.

76. Become consumed, in the manner of an all-consuming but mild cold, by your latest symptoms/changes in pregnancy.

75. Perform puppet shows starring customers.

74. Motivate self ~ kid will be spazzy if you’re too spazzy during pregnancy. Or at least she’ll be a worrywart. [HOLY – !!!]

 

72. Invent alternative cocktails, other than The Warm Bath.

71. Pretend you just got lost on the way to the grocery store, and simply, temporarily, landed at this desk.

70. Pretend you’re on a show like “Candid Camera” (shouldn’t be too difficult).

 

68. Remember not to let anyone stress you out – who are they?

67. Cry sometimes, preferably not at work.

 

65. EAT CRACKERS!!!

 

63. Shuffle paint colors for new house around in your mind.

62. Try to vent to those other than your husband [HAHAHAHA].

61. Go to doctor, pay nothing [really good insurance at that place].

60. Hang picture of the little guppy up on desk.”

 

And then it ended! Disappointingly. Tsk.

Thursday, April 5, 2012

hello love,

I know what you mean about narrative threads. I’d ask the universe to strive toward telepathic communication, but I’m quite sure it’s zooming toward that sort of microchip technology regardless, and lets-not-rush-things. Mainly I’m too lazy and ma-laisey to communicate with anyone, via email, social networking, spoken word… Like it was all I could do to tell J.Lo I bought a basic sweatshirt jacket at Target. Must. Force. Self. To. Share More. But then sometimes I get caught up in this internal debate between Speaking and Not Speaking. From the deep to the mundane. Should I, shouldn’t I? What are the merits? Silence is golden. But no man is an island. And so forth.

Mainly I am pollen-coated penelope. It’s a little better this week, with either the non-expired zyrtec kicking in, working its magic, or lower pollen counts. Or different pollen counts. Who knows. My sinuses/scratchy throat/wasted energy reserves all shrug their shoulders and sigh. J.Lo threw out his back on Sunday, so I’ve been rallying wherever possible, like purchasing mulch for the garden and planting more plants and mowing the lawn and other literal and metaphorical instances of heavy lifting. The garden! now contains: 3 lettuce types, broccoli, cauliflower, cabbage, spinach, onions that I keep stepping on, green beans, cucumbers, peas, zucchini, squash, alleged peas and sweet peas (still burrowed beneath the earth? on the brink of emergence?), one tomato plant for now (grape roma), jalapeno peppers, and a yellow pepper. And other than a few war-torn leaves on the broccoli/caul, they all seem happy... Although I’m a little skeptical of the soil, like will it be good enough. So I’m supplementing with foods and fertilizers of sorts along the way.

Yesterday it poured rained in the sunshine, but I spied no rainbows.

I finished the book on the terrible kidnapping/stolen life. I kind of wish she had written it and stuck in a drawer for 10 or 15 years, maybe dropped in a few post-it notes along the way and then revisited it all. Because it was just – so very raw. Coupled with a 5th grade education. But yet had the potential to be earth-shattering? It still does. Maybe she’ll write a sequel after some time in the world.

Oh, and the mouse thing. My essential problem with your delightful fairytale mouse living in my car is that in my mind, he looks like this:

Although I grant that he could just as easily look like this:

Man that mouse is cute. So will you be seeing Hunger Games in English with subtitles, or? In the theater or on a computer. Either way I’m glad you’ll be seeing it and celebrating a girl and may the odds be ever in your favor when it comes to viewing it in the absence of snarky, guffawing teenaged boys who completely throw you out of the moment when Rue dies. Because that happened. Granted it was during my second viewing, so their lives were spared. But they were within inches. #truth

Sidenote: saw the phrase “beard technician” in reference to whomever styled Seneca Crane. I can’t even count all the ways I love that job title.

Oh, slogging through the fields of teaching. There will always be the complacent and the rude. Although I could never follow my own advice on this matter, I’d say it’s best not to ponder the origins of their undesirable behavior… Play the game (without being a piece of course) so you can shed it like an outfit at the end of the day and move on to your real life on on the island. Dispensing sage words to new friends and soaking up the winds and sunshine.

love to you,

pollenope

Saturday, February 18, 2012

lastly,


This utterly ridiculous photo series. 
Us: "Look, an old tree ladder!"
Look, J.Lo made it to the top of the tree ladder!
Him, half-jokingly, because Penelope + situations requiring coordination = notsomuch: 
"You should try it!"
Me: "Yes. I'm going to try it. Why not!
So how much pressure can I put on this thing...?"
Look, Penelope broke the old tree ladder. 
Look, Penelope fell on her face.
Only Penelope.
And that about sums it up.