Now THAT'S a creative title. You can tell that I'm really working hard today, no? Poor blog--I've put about as much effort into it this year as I have my gardening (which is why I have a bunch of dead plants in my front yard--in Tennessee, where we have things like lynch mobs [this is a little shout out to Polk County, y'all], the HOA would have already shown up at my house and lynched me. Except that in Tennessee, we don't have HOA's, particularly in Polk County. And since we don't have lynch mobs in Virginia, it looks like me and my dead mums remain safe.)
But I digress.
A few years ago ("few" because I don't really have any idea if it's been seven or one) I started my annual Thanksgiving Blog, where I like to publicly give thanks for the little things in my life for which I am grateful. Not my family. Not my home. But the things that rarely get the recognition they deserve. While I admit that I'm not feeling particularly festive this year (yet again), I'm going to give it my Haley Best and share my thankfulness with the world anyway. So here we go.
HALEY'S 2010 THANKSGIVING BLOG LIST OF THE LITTLE THINGS IN LIFE FOR WHICH SHE IS THANKFUL, WHICH MEANS THAT HER YORKIE, MIMI, IS EXCLUDED--BEING VERY OVERSIZED--AS WELL AS MANY OTHER THINGS THAT ARE TECHNICALLY BIG (LIKE 1.5 LITER SIZE WINE BOTTLES). HALEY WOULD ALSO LIKE TO MENTION THAT SHE WILL NOT BE RECOGNIZING ANY ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGE IN SAID LIST ONLY BECAUSE SHE IS BEING THANKFUL FOR THE LITTLE THINGS RIGHT NOW, AND FRANKLY, ANYTHING WITH ALCOHOL IS NOT CONSIDERED A LITTLE THING, BUT RATHER A GREAT BIG GIANT REASON WHY HER SANITY IS (MOSTLY) INTACT, AS B IS STILL GONE MOST OF THE TIME, THUS LEAVING HER ALONE AND AT THE MERCY OF THE MINIONS AND ALL THEIR LITTLE NEIGHBORHOOD MINION CRONIES
1. My crock pot~ Now that I am working so much, including two nights during the week when my children must still be fed but which I dislike leaving Blaker in a "what's for dinner lurch" (please reference the night he gave them scrambled eggs with peas for dinner, if you are questioning my feelings) the crock pot is my miracle tool. You can cook anything in that bitch, yo. Seriously. Throw in some meat, vegetables, water, bullion cubes, leftovers, whatever canned items are in the pantry and a little salt, turn it to low and wait 8 hours and BAM! You've got dinner. (Or turn it to high and wait 3, if you are impatient. Still, BAM! You've got dinner.) High five for you, crock pot. I do love you so.
2. Text messages~ I am not a big texter, in general. I think it's a great tool to have, and I like to occasionally let someone know I'm thinking of them or that I'm running late or that I wish they would drop dead and burn in hell via text, but it's pretty rare, in general. Part of my texting hesitation is probably due to the fact that I text so slowly an elephant could likely gestate its young before I can send out a quick message, but that's really not that important. It's not like I'm pressed for time, dude. Life is long. Anyway, what I like about texting is the same thing I like about a few other things (cleaning, ironing, shooting someone)-- instant gratification. You think of something or someone, you text, if they are well-mannered and in possession of their (charged and "on") phone, you hear right back. Quicker than email. Quicker than snail mail. A hell of a lot quicker than telepathy. You know they are alive. They know you need milk from the store. You know their kid wears a size 2T or that they will be 5 minutes late meeting you or that they think your kid might have just robbed a bank in New York while wearing a Darth Vader mask. Instant gratification.
3. Urban Cowboy, the movie~ So Kate Middleton and Prince William are getting married. The world is full of fairytale romances, happily ever afters, love and infatuation. But you know what the world is even MORE full of? Dysfunctional, screwed up, love/hate relationships between messed up people who need years of good therapy and a lot of mood-altering medications. Enter Bud and Sissy, the two main characters of the old 70's movie, Urban Cowboy. Every time I get depressed, all I have to do is pop in this classic gem and automatically I start feeling better. There's the iconic soundtrack ("Can I have this dance, for the rest of my life?), the fabulous one liners ("See ya, girls, I got me a cowboy!") and the overwhelming excitement over the wedding gift of a single-wide trailer. It always makes me want to put on my fringed boots and go ride a cowboy....oops, I mean, go ride a mechanical bull. Nothing can cheer a person up like watching Debra Winger get smacked around by John Travolta while they are both wearing ten gallon hats. Nothing, I say.
4. Lotion~ Ah, you think I'm going to whip out something dirty with this one, don't you? Well, my friends, sorry to disappoint. This one is all about my kids. You see, they get up in the middle of the night an average of six hundred times most nights. They have invisible bumps, scrapes, rashes, bug bites, itches, cuts, and various other alien ailments. There is no sending the little monsters back to bed. You can yell, you can throw things at them (not that I would know....), threaten them, and spank them. It doesn't matter, they still get up again five minutes later with some horribly incurable skin irritation that no one but them can see and that they did not have when they were tucked in twenty minutes ago. Enter: the lotion. Lotion works wonders. You tell them it's medicine and rub it on whatever body part is hurting. They think you've done something to help, you've pretended not to dismiss their complaint, everybody is happy. Vaseline works the same way. Hell, Belly can read now and the bottle clearly says "Lotion." She knows what lotion is, and IT STILL WORKS. Miracle stuff, that lotion.
5. Melatonin~ Many of you already know that I am an insomniac. I've taken sleeping pills, tried warm milk, done yoga-- nothing really helps much. I fall asleep rather easily most of the time, but I don't sleep well and I don't sleep long. Does Melatonin help this? Nope. However, Melatonin does something else that adds interest to my life: it gives me completely psychotic dreams. If you've ever tripped acid in the mountains with a hippie nudist colony, you know what I'm talking about. Sometimes they are bad, sometimes they are good, sometimes they are just crazy. Regardless, these dreams add spice to my life in a completely harmless way. My doctor seems baffled by this, but fully encouraging, therefore I continue to trip in my on little happy Melatonin stupor for a little while most nights. Hey, it's better then dreaming about being at work, or replaying events from the day. It's cheap, it's legal. I figure one day I'll get bored with it or it will quit working for me, but for now, all hail the Melatonin.
That's five. Only five. But at least it's a nice odd number.