Really? Two feet of snow on top of your car? REALLY?

There are unwritten rules in these parts, where snow falls frequently between December and March (sometimes November to April), and comes in large quantities.

When you leave your house after a snowfall, you clear off your car in its entirety. You don't leave big snowcakes on your roof or your trunk, because those are bound to come off in chunks, and splat all over the windshield of the car behind you. It's unsafe.

This is how NOT to abide by unwritten rules:

Check out THAT snowpatty.

I took this photo from the driver's seat of my car earlier this week. Don't worry, we were at a complete stop as cars tried to finagle around towering snowbanks while pulling out onto the main street. This guy, of course, was trying to turn left across all the traffic. OF COURSE.

Why I love my dad.

This is an example of the typical greeting my dad and I give each other when he calls me:

ME: Hello?
DAD: Heyyyyyy.
ME: Heyyyyyyy.
DAD: Hey, you.
ME: Yo!
DAD: What up?
ME: Nuttin, what up wit'choo?
DAD: Nada. What's up with you?
ME: I said, nuttin.

It takes us about five times as long to have this conversation than it would to just cut straight to the chase, such as:

ME: Hello?
DAD: Your mother and I are leaving in ten minutes to come pick up Liam.
ME: Ok, see you then.
DAD: Bye.

BORING!

I don't want my thirty seconds back. I'd rather have exchanges in half-ass English with my dad.

Sweet Liam

Last night I was sitting on one end of the couch, I don't even remember what I was doing, while Gabe and Liam were on the other end, playing and cuddling. Liam comes walking over to me, shaky-kneed on the fluffy couch cushions, and he puts a strong hand on my shoulder to brace himself as he lifts a leg up to sit on my lap, facing me.

He plops down and smiles at me, and as I smile back he shrugs and falls into me for a cuddle. I hug him and tell him I love him, and what does he do? He looks me in the eyes, puts his little hands on my cheeks, and presses his nose up to mine. He shakes his head a little, the tips of our noses brushing in a sweet Eskimo kiss.

When he noticed me smiling, he did it harder, a smile spreading across his face, his eyes closing. He didn't let go of my face for a few minutes, and I giggled and cried.

Liam last year at this time...


Liam this year...

This is my dance space.

I know there's almost always a long line at any given register at Walmart, even the express lanes.

I know that at night, it's even worse because there are only three lanes open and even at 10:30 pm there is still a good number of shoppers.

I know the lines move slowly.

I know it's annoying to wait five minutes in line just to buy a pack of socks, a loaf of bread and some batteries.

You know what else is annoying? WHEN YOU STAND SO CLOSE BEHIND ME THAT I CAN HEAR YOU BLINK, YOUR SHIFT OF WEIGHT FROM ONE FOOT TO THE OTHER, YOUR SPIT SQUISHING AS YOU CHEW YOUR GUM AND YOUR NOSE HAIRS FLAPPING IN THE WIND OF YOUR EVERY EXASPERATED SIGH.

It's really annoying.

I assure you that standing IN my buttcrack WILL NOT make the lines move faster so please. PLEASE. Give me some personal space, k?

That Nora Show

Winter is winding down- I insist this to myself, despite the recent snows. We're closing in on the end of February, which means one (long. very long) month until April, when we're pretty much in the clear. The snow will melt, the sun will fall warm on our skin, and there'll be green again. Not this white/ brown/ gray BLAH.

We've been watching more TV lately than I care to admit. Luckily Liam isn't too interested in much of it. I've fallen into Gabe's habit of using the TV as background noise. With one car in our household, not a lot of spending money, and not a lot going on in this area anyway, the winter is long, with hard crusty snow, spent mostly indoors. With the TV on in the background, BLAH.

I've reconnected with an old favorite of mine from high school- I watch That 70s Show in syndication when I catch it. It makes me laugh out loud, frequently, and I need that lately, bad.

The show started in 1998, when I was about to enter my junior year of high school, and my family watched it together every week. My interest in it fell away probably around the time I went to college, because my life suddenly became interesting on its own. I didn't realize until yesterday (because I am dorky enough to have looked it up) that they were actually making new episodes until 2006, although on the show only about three years pass.

I've been reliving those eight seasons in reruns recently, remembering how, when I was watching this show the first time around, I wanted to be an actress in it. I wanted to go to Hollywood (because that's where all the shows are filmed, right?) and be on That 70s Show, playing Hyde's girlfriend because he was the funniest and most attractive male cast member, and be best friends in real life with the girl who plays Donna. And maybe make out with Danny Masterson in real life too. I obviously never lived that dream but that doesn't stop me from giggling when I see this:



Especially at 25 seconds, and then again at 54 seconds. What a dreamboat!

It's ok, Gabe has beat you to the punch and already called me a nerd about it.

I understand the hint but I still don't feel like shaving yet.

At the sweet and curious age of twenty months, Liam is getting more and more observant by the day.

Today I was getting teary about something during dinner. Liam dropped his pizza and came at me with open arms and a look of genuine concern on his face. If he was ten to fifteen years older he would have said, "Come here, Mom. It's ok."

He imitates my yoga positions. His favorites are the downward dog and some cat-like stretch that I don't know the name of.

He asks, "Happy? Happy?" every time he sees me on my laptop. It's his personal request for the Furry Happy Monsters video on YouTube. Tonight he started singing the Feist song- "Bah bah bah bah," he says over and over. If we hum or whistle it, he starts with his "Bah bah bah bah," tune and will sometimes add a little sway. When he wants to listen to David Bowie he chants, "Wah wah wah..." (You know: "Golden years. Go-ooo-old, wah wah wah.") MY KID IS AWESOME.

Just a few minutes ago, Gabe taught him to run his hand along my stubbly leg and say "Ouch!" because, you know, it's HILARIOUS for your toddler to tell you to shave already.

Thanks for that one, Gabe. It's only been three days, anyway.

love is love

I can't do it. I've been trying. I've written and erased.

I can't write everything I feel about gay marriage, so I am going to try to sum it up.

People need to mind their business. If gay marriage is legalized anywhere, it is not a threat to your own faith, your own marriage, your own morals, your own heterosexuality. If gay marriage is legalized it is a triumph and blessing of human rights. No one should be denied the right to get married. Heteros have been effing it up for a long time anyway so how about this: make your marriage what you want it to be, and don't you dare try to take that away from anyone else. We need more people in this world who love without limits. Whether you're gay or straight, you need to LOVE. You need to be allowed and encouraged to LOVE.

Marriage, for me, is happy and hard and thrilling and boring and passionate and comfortable. It's a gift for those who want it. For those who want it, I wish we could all be this lucky and have that chance. No one has the right to take that away from someone else, or now even allow it in the first place. HOLY CRAP! How can anyone not see that??

Nobody likes me, everybody hates me.

I went to Subway last night to get sandwiches for Gabe and myself, since the food in our kitchen is scarce and I didn't feel like cooking. You know, after the energy I put into scrambling some eggs for Liam, phew!

This is part of my conversation with the woman behind the counter.
WOMAN: Do you want any mayo, mustard, oil, or dressing?
ME: Mustard, please.
WOMAN: What kind?
ME: Regular.

This is how is sounded on her side of the counter.
WOMAN: Do you want any mayo, mustard, oil, or dressing?
ME: RANCH. RANCH DRESSING!!!
WOMAN: How much?
ME: AS MUCH AS YOU CAN SQUEEZE ONTO THAT STALE PIECE OF BREAD.

I don't hate ranch dressing as much as I used to but I definitely don't want a gallon of it on my veggie sub because then you can't taste anything else. And the woman was already kind of bitchy (kind of = very very) and I didn't stop her or ask her to start over because I am a total wimp like to avoid confrontation.

If I could measure her bitchiness in ranch dressing, it would be the amount of it she ruined my sandwich with. At home I wiped most of it off and only half-enjoyed my supper.

I usually don't like to complain here about crappy retail and food service employees because I have worked in retail and food service and I know it can be difficult. People always downplay how hard it can be if they've never done it, and consider it mindless and easy and below them. It's not. And I don't want anyone misunderstanding and think I am being mean because I think I am superior or something. I know I'm not. But FOR THE LOVE OF GOD I am tired of store employees being complete crapholes to me. I am always nice because I never want to be That Customer and in return, 75% of the time I get grunts, no eye contact, attitude and sometimes I am not even there.

It leaves me walking away thinking things like, "It's not MY fault you work at Subway/the gas station/Walmart but congratu-frickin-lations," or "YOU WORK AT FOREVER 21! Get over your faux-fashionista self!" which turns me into That Customer, but at least it's silently.

Am I the only with this luck? Do any of you encounter mostly friendly and helpful employees when you go shopping? Or do you get the "OMG I can't believe I have to look at your FACE while I'm at work, barf!"

Friendliness is contagious but negativity is easier to catch and spread. It's like a disease.

Wear rubber gloves.

Serenity Now

I need to compose myself. I need to find peace.

I was innocently browsing Facebook today when I came across an ad from the group of Mainers who are trying to protect traditional marriage from those scary gays.

On Facebook I am a member of the Maine Freedom to Marry Coalition and I already emailed my representative to encourage the end to discrimination. It means more to me than I am comfortable saying right now because I am so flippin' mad and my head is swarming with adults-only words, piss and vinegar, and spitting insults.

When I need to calm Liam down, sometimes we watch these videos, and they relax us both. I need them right now.






Breathe, Nora.

free goodies

Just a quick sneaky post to let you all know about a giveaway I am doing from my art blog:


http://quietcity207.blogspot.com

xoxo Nora

a broken heart can't be that bad

A note to the people who watched SNL last night and have since made the phrase "I'm the one who wants to be with you" the number-5 ranked Google search:

The song is called, simply, "To Be With You" and it's by a band called Mr. Big, which has nothing to do with Sex and the City. I have loved this song with inexplicable fervor since I first heard it when I was 11. I would sing it on the walk home from the bus stop in fifth grade when I would take the shortcut through the woods, where no one but the birds and trees and squirrels and snails could hear me.

RESPECT.



And join me in the fervor.

Boring with a capital B

I don't know what it is, I just can't think of anything to say lately. So I am writing a blog post to tell you about it? Because I am so interesting.

Lately I am excited about:
* our tax return
* springtime... it's coming EVENTUALLY
* my upcoming anniversary date with Gabe
* warmer forecast for the weekend
* two friends from elementary school who I haven't seen since sixth grade found me on Facebook
* Liam finally learned the words "eat" and "more" which makes communicating his needs a lot easier
* Stonyfield Farms java frozen yogurt

Lately I am not excited about:
* the economy
* my personal economy
* Liam thinks sleeping is for sissies
* I am a sissy
* the cold outside that hurts with its dry bitterness
* the muddy brown snowbanks
* my constant cramps that happen even when I don't have my period. Seriously, how is that fair?