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Inspiration @

http://www.followyourdreams.com/postcards/index.html

http://www.wingsfortheheart.com/

http://www.spiritualitygateway.com/

http://www.pepperpages.com/

http://www.internoodle.com/Kermit/Inspiration/KermitTruth.asp?Poem=101

Filler' Up

Taking stock of things I realize I have not been all that faithful to myself. This is partially out of laziness partially out of denial, and then there's just life which makes you do things that you didn't plan and apparently happens while you're busy making plans. That's what I'm told. For instance, I set up this blog. Title : ranting from beyond. It's accurate. I rant. I do it from Europe, where I have lived for almost half my life and yet it still feels otherworldly. The permanent vacation. Meaning, some day I may go home. ? But that's not the point. I can deal with that. It's the Act of Defiance. Where is the Act? Yeah, the whole thing started out with the intention of shaking off my Inner Critic and filling a little page space. This I have achieved. Lots of filler. This too is filler. Sometimes I really think life is just filler. Christmas presents make great filler. We're about to fill a whole room with them. But it will be really worthwhile because of how excited the kids are and how nice to be able to create a little magic with some twinkly lights and red ribbon. But what I would really lke for Christmas is a little inspiration. The spark is here but I need to give it some kindling. Then again, who am I kidding? This is me. I am heavy. Not funny. Not positive. I am dark and negative and unfunny. But from here in the dark, light is so much more beautiful. So I guess I'll just go on with lots of the same until the same is somehow different. Is it that habit of standing back to truly appreciate a good painting? I also like to get right up close. Experience the intimacy of those brush strokes. I need to get up close. And maybe I'll just let myself off the hook. Maybe I don't have to be great. MAYBE I should just stop worrying about results completely. Yes. That feels better. So what if this blog is not so entertaining or even all that welcoming. So what? Today I let myself off the hook.

Why can't I just craft a few gifts and completely avoid the consumer rush? Make some home-made soap for instance and some cute rag dolls, paint my own xmys cards...hahhahahahaha. Madness. No time. The hardest is shopping for my Mom and my husband. Not that they're picky. I'm picky. Stuff is just stuff. Kind of turns me off, all this stuff...Who needs anything, really? Nobody I know needs anything that can be bought in a store. Except my kids, who are all too big for their clothes. And that's what Santa will be splurging on mostly. Clothes are a luxury why not get them for xmas? My aunt only had 2 dresses growing up in the 50's/60's. One for school, one for church. This is totally true. (And is probably why she has made sure she has never wanted for anything since). Conversely, I had everything I needed and more growing up and find my life-style severly curtailed now. Interesting. While our baby-boomer parents are able to travel, afford expensive houses, cars, entertainment, their loser offspring can't find appropriate employment and will possibly be living in cardboard boxes at retirement. Anger suddenly from nowhere . Change topic.


This Xmas my eldest will again be with her father and not with us. We're like the dormatory people. But since we may have to move far, far away, I thought it would be best not to take issue. Seems the important moments must be found in unusual places if there's going to be opportunity for them. Like between msn and toothbrush-time (3min). Seriously regret her learning how to use the computer for socialising. Must set limits.

The little guys will not notice the turbulence in our xmas experience and that's a relief. They're happy as can be. School has been a constant source of fun since Saint Nic on the 6th. They've had parties, concerts, theatre...It's a "lovely time of the year".

This week-end we took them to a medieval market at a real castle, which thrilled Little Guy totally. I have a 5 and a 6 yr old with strangely developed interests in architecture and engineering. Towers, pipes, windows, rooms cut into rock, they genuinely love it. Perhaps the credit is due to the kapla blocks they've been building with for years. I highly recommend them. They're plain pine rectangles all cut the same size and the kids can do amazing things with them. The "astructions" are becoming more and more complicated and they've recently requested another box. They prefer it to the other building toys they have ie; lego, duplo, megabloks...I am happy because i am acheiving one of my grass-roots-mama goals with little effort. (all the other goals from my granola years seem to have given way to convenience, such as prepared foods, tv, barbie, etc) (we still only eat whole grain bread)

Anyway, gottagetacuppacoffee...and start preparing for the feast!

so much to do. so much to do. only a few days to xmas and no presents shipped yet. cards to write. cookies to bake. shopping, shopping, shopping. oh, and there's the issue of cash flow. as in not happening. will be paid small amount for theatre project. should give santa something to work with. if 100 bucks a head is possible in this day n age. amongst requests, sims 2, digital camera, everything barbie, zapf, lego, mechano, hotwheels, ipod, complete new wardrobe X 4, and stalkings to fill...list time. i'll save it.

"you have a butt"
"yes, and so do you"
"i'll give you a butt"
"no i'll give you one"

touching father and son conversations for a sunday am.

hope santa's not listening.

Wading Through The Blog

I am completely under the control of The Critic. It's like typing against the current. Writing a blog is like wading through the bog. Watch your step. Woa, slippery. Yikes, I'm stuck. ANd of course, what fascinating creatures are going to attach themselves and start sucking ... Pass the salt.

Speaking of sucking...
Today is a perfect day for laundry and oven cleaning. At 8:25 am the world is still in darkness and our house is being battered by gale force winds and rain. I understand why thousands of years ago people decided to celebrate the sun around now. I could just crawl back under those covers and snooze until spring. Some coffee will do the trick. I've heated the milk twice already. Let's try again. Ah, yes, let the day begin.

OS, I'm here with my dyslexia and the Critic trying to type my way into existance for he day and wondering just what, after all, I really need to say. I could Mom-blog. But I can't. Well let's try. I haven't really tried so far. I just have a more natural talent for, what's it called? Belly gazing? The contemplation of one's navel. Howbout i mention casually that I visited Rembrandt's actual house and studio the other day and that can make this a Studiio Friday sort of blog. Hmn, let's see if i can google an illustration...http://www.rembrandthuis.nl/cms_pages/index_main.html
Yes, very interesting. I wonder how long it will take until the picture disappears.

Well, anyway, I should also mention the Van Gogh Museum because we spent most of our time there and it was great to see the evolution of his painting style and eavesdrop on a high school tour guide that I think only i truely appreciated. We also went to the Sex Museum. Lots of the same. No high school tour. Was surprised to see pornographic photos of the same era as Van Gogh. Seems somehow of another world. But obvoiusly not, as Vincent was friends with Toulouse Lautrec and others of Montmartre including the Green Fairy. But I was still surprised to see someone's great-great-grandparents doing very naughty things in such graphic detail.

All in all, a very cultural week. Oh yeah. We delivered the pingpong heads and I am delighted to say that they were a crowd pleaser and the designer was IMPRESSED. Thank you very much. I shall celebrate by adding colour to today's text.

Eventful week. Saturday and Sunday attended three social events in a record breaking drink-a-thon. For which I paid only slightly on Monday as I plodded through the finishing touches on our little band of pingpong heads. Then, off for a crazy overnight visit to my very favorite city in all the world, Amsterdam. After grumpily enduring the 5 hr drive complete with traditional getting lost in Belgium we arrived at our hotel only to be mildly impressed because we always get great value fo the money at the American Hotel and this one was kinda puny. Think closet. But we had a voucher from my birthday last January that was about to expire, so, Seize the Day. It was great to let that general good mood that pervades Amsterdam just work its way through my thickened skin. People smiling, shaking hands, feeling good. Windows, windows, everywhere! All with blinds wide open! Welcome life, chings the bicycle bells, toots the tram, screams the gulls, sings the smells and colours wafting out of cafés, reflecting on the canals...here lives the muse. Breath it in.

Nah, life is good. And I have decided that it is time to feel lucky. Because right here, right now, everything is OK. Flipping out is not the answer. No more drama for as long as I can muster. Promise.
Progess on the project front. SEE:


Yes, I know they're a bit silly. Cute and silly. Even sillier atop the heads of those poor 10 yr olds who will be teetering around the stage bumping into each other whilst attempting to sing an opera....Hee, hee, hee...Can't wait to see the dress rehearsal!

Saint Nicolas came last night. Sort of a pre-Christmas appetizer for the kids. The tradition here used to be presents from St. Nic on the 6th and celebrate Jesus on the 25th. Christmas hype has changed the holiday from something that was dinner with family and mass (1989) to mass commercialisation. (I prefer the commercialised version, myself. Not being a great church goer and loving the magick of twinkly lights.) Now Santa comes at Christmas, which he didn't in France 10 years ago. But it wouldn't be X-Mas without Santa so we do both, like most people now. Only this year my husband bought the presents (1 gift/child plus chocolate) and they were all under 20 bucks. Saint Nic isn't as popular this year. He's too broke and won't let Mrs. Saint Nic have any of the buying power. He does all the groceries. He makes dumb purchases. But he has control. And he's not popular. Go back to your day job, St. Nic. Let the Mrs. make the cookies. I BEG YOU!!!!!!!!

I need to get it all off my chest. It's 12:45 am and I'm not going to sleep any time soon. Unemployment is truely getting to me. First mine and secondly, my husband's. Mostly my husband's because I fear he's heading down the path of non-existance. I know this road. It started with living abroad for a few years with no more of an agenda than to get some experience in a foreign country. That was 17 years ago. I'm still here. Still hanging on because of the beautiful baby girl who's father is French. Only she's 14 now and has a step-father and 2 siblings who may not be better off over here. And it's terrifying. Going back after so long. Bringing a beautiful, over-protected teenager to North America to possibly face the sort of bullies and drinking and crazy teen-age drama that I enjoyed over there. Terrifying. But we're broke. My husband may have a better chance over there. And there's family. (Albeit neurotic in many more ways than I these days) And there's my fear of waking up from this dream and being too old to get a life. Not that I look old. Or act old. Or even believe in "old". Nope, I am of the immortals. I will always be 28. Just like my mom. We are a whole family of 28 yr olds. Except for my husband, who's 33 and has some growing up to do. His job search technique is non-exisant. Path of non-existance. What the hell am I going to do? I know that you can't answer that. But I do feel like the girl in that picture down there. How am I supposed to give my kids the perfect life in this state of total uselessness. I would bite the bullet if only someone would fire the gun. Yes, I am feeling truely sorry for myself tonight. Sob sob sob.

Just a Little

you are going to kill yourself. You got to
depressed one day and you couldn't take it any
more so you shot yourself in the head... *sigh*


How will you die? (beautiful pics!)
brought to you by Quizilla

Blue Fairy

oh. and i decided to change my name because someone else is using it now and i visited her site and she's nice so she can keep it.

Fuming

Things on my mind. Extreme agitation after yet another political argument with my husband and his condescending friend, where, as usual, I get pinned for not being able to back up my opinions with research. As usual I am called on a technicality such as speaking out of turn, being a right brain thinker, or not knowing how the American government really actually functions. Well, forgive me for not having a degree in political science. I was also ignorant of the fact that only those who are properly educated and actual American citizens are allowed to have an opinion on the affairs of the world's most-in-your-face country. The argument began at a nice French restaurant. It could have been a nice evening. We were hosting a college friend of my husband's, who'd been traveling Europe and was debating a move to the EC. But he had to complain, again, about how the nasty Europeans, who are too uninformed to have an opinion, seem to enjoy backing him into a heated political lambasting at every given opportunity. I suggested that maybe it would be more useful to listen to them rather than to engage in defensive behavior. Maybe if so many people are up in arms there's something to be said... But apparently they're all to uninformed to have any legitimate points and all they want is to verbally abuse the first available American. Or maybe they're just probing to see if Americans are as arrogant as they seem to come off at times. Hmn, I wonder what their conclusion was... My advise was that he should go home to America where everyone is so much more sensible. (This guy has a degree in international relations...btw) So now I'm in a quandary. I would prefer to stick my head back in the sand and forget about this icky feeling of not being able to carry on a proper political discussion but I can't. I feel I must make up for opting out. Somehow. I owe it to myself to at least not get creamed like that by a couple of rich boy smartypants conservative males and sit there all defenceless with nothing but my little B.A. and my crappy MRS. and a fork to cling to.
Does anybody else ever feel this way?