-The Monster Queen
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Next, I'll be starting a drum circle
I know I've expressed before that I never imagined my blog becoming my interactive journal, and my innate introversion is still desperately hoping that it won't be, but it seems that my sarcasm to life ratio is a little unbalanced these days. And that's probably due to the fact that I'm getting extra doses of life these days. Or maybe I'm just finally paying attention.
A couple of weeks ago I drafted a lengthy post on what it feels like to be a stranger living in your boss' house, being accused of using poor judgement, getting yelled at, and then being expected to sit down for an amiable dinner (with your boss and their extended family). It was emotional and melodramatic, and then it mysteriously disappeared. Which I took as a sign that as much as I want all the wounded of the world (who read my blog) to know YOUR FEELINGS ARE VALID AND I CAN TOTALLY RELATE TO THAT REALLY CRAPPY THING YOU HAD TO GO THROUGH AND YES, IT SUCKED! some times I guess, I just can't wrap the entire world in an imaginary hug. No matter how hyperbolic and heartfelt it might be. Also, maybe I don't need to dwell on the sad things so much.
So lately I've been trying to do just that- not dwell on the sad things. Now, my immediate instinct is to list ALL OF THE SAD THINGS I'M TOTALLY NOT DWELLING ON. Which is to say, it takes effort. It takes effort to let go of my anxiety and appreciate that I have been BLESSED to spend time with my family, laugh my head off with them, see unexpected and beautiful places in America, help my little sister with her math, enjoy so much good food, share moments and treasures and LIVES.
I can't decipher the last three months of my life. I can't determine why I am where I am now- so far off from where I ever imagined myself being. But honestly, I'm tired of trying to. I love where I am, as transient and out of my control as this place in my life is. I'm sharing my life with people. And I'm so blessed by the lives being shared with me.
Now let's everyone hug it out.
-The Monster Queen
A couple of weeks ago I drafted a lengthy post on what it feels like to be a stranger living in your boss' house, being accused of using poor judgement, getting yelled at, and then being expected to sit down for an amiable dinner (with your boss and their extended family). It was emotional and melodramatic, and then it mysteriously disappeared. Which I took as a sign that as much as I want all the wounded of the world (who read my blog) to know YOUR FEELINGS ARE VALID AND I CAN TOTALLY RELATE TO THAT REALLY CRAPPY THING YOU HAD TO GO THROUGH AND YES, IT SUCKED! some times I guess, I just can't wrap the entire world in an imaginary hug. No matter how hyperbolic and heartfelt it might be. Also, maybe I don't need to dwell on the sad things so much.
So lately I've been trying to do just that- not dwell on the sad things. Now, my immediate instinct is to list ALL OF THE SAD THINGS I'M TOTALLY NOT DWELLING ON. Which is to say, it takes effort. It takes effort to let go of my anxiety and appreciate that I have been BLESSED to spend time with my family, laugh my head off with them, see unexpected and beautiful places in America, help my little sister with her math, enjoy so much good food, share moments and treasures and LIVES.
I can't decipher the last three months of my life. I can't determine why I am where I am now- so far off from where I ever imagined myself being. But honestly, I'm tired of trying to. I love where I am, as transient and out of my control as this place in my life is. I'm sharing my life with people. And I'm so blessed by the lives being shared with me.
Now let's everyone hug it out.
-The Monster Queen
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Secrets make your clothes smell better
Who knew that my Mount Rushmore shirt would make such an impact on my wardrobe? I guess I should take back all the mean things I said about South Dakota. NOT.
In case you don't see me every week (you don't, I'm in a house with children one billion hours a week. Oh, a week doesn't have a billion hours? EXACTLY.) it makes an appearance each wash cycle. And by that I mean when it's clean, I wear it. And it would probably be clean more often if I was allowed to do laundry while on shift. But I'm not. I'm also not allowed to read books on shift. Or microwave any food for the children. Which, I would totally support if that didn't mean I was heating up an entire jar of store bought spaghetti sauce on the stove, just to use two tablespoons of it. And the rest that I'm putting in Tupperware to go back in the fridge? Yeah, I can't microwave that tomorrow either.
Other things I'm not allowed to do "on shift":
Be farther than 3 feet from the children at any given time
Let the children play unmediated games with their friends
Fold laundry on my lap (it needs to be folded on the bed)
Wash the cousin's swim things with our swim things
Deny the children their third daily Popsicle
Eat my meals w/o the children
Expect to get paid on time
All this to say, I'M DOING MY LAUNDRY IN SECRET. Yeah, that's right. When I say I'm going to the bathroom I'm actually folding my clothes. I never imagined that my rebellious nature would lead to secret laundry. I feel like such a fraud. When my bathroom breaks get taken away, I have no idea what I'll be forced to do.
-The Monster Queen
In case you don't see me every week (you don't, I'm in a house with children one billion hours a week. Oh, a week doesn't have a billion hours? EXACTLY.) it makes an appearance each wash cycle. And by that I mean when it's clean, I wear it. And it would probably be clean more often if I was allowed to do laundry while on shift. But I'm not. I'm also not allowed to read books on shift. Or microwave any food for the children. Which, I would totally support if that didn't mean I was heating up an entire jar of store bought spaghetti sauce on the stove, just to use two tablespoons of it. And the rest that I'm putting in Tupperware to go back in the fridge? Yeah, I can't microwave that tomorrow either.
Other things I'm not allowed to do "on shift":
Be farther than 3 feet from the children at any given time
Let the children play unmediated games with their friends
Fold laundry on my lap (it needs to be folded on the bed)
Wash the cousin's swim things with our swim things
Deny the children their third daily Popsicle
Eat my meals w/o the children
Expect to get paid on time
All this to say, I'M DOING MY LAUNDRY IN SECRET. Yeah, that's right. When I say I'm going to the bathroom I'm actually folding my clothes. I never imagined that my rebellious nature would lead to secret laundry. I feel like such a fraud. When my bathroom breaks get taken away, I have no idea what I'll be forced to do.
-The Monster Queen
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Black market
Did you hire someone to watch your children? Congratulations, Wise Investor. Now, call up your brother and let him know that your nanny will watch his kids too. Then call up your neighbor and tell her that your nanny will watch her kids too! Then, if you realize there is someone you forgot to offer your nanny's services to, tell your nanny YOU NEED HER TO MAKE A PHONE CALL.
-The Monster Queen
-The Monster Queen
Saturday, August 13, 2011
Big bear comfort
I have no idea what's going on with my life, but what I do know is that my panda dress makes me feel right with the world. Or at least right with myself. Because one day I walked into a gas station that had an entire wall full of majestic tees, and that was a good day.
Cool fact about NY: you can wear the exact same outfit three nights in a row and no one will notice. Probably because you won't see any of the same people. Even in your house. Did I mention that I live with six other people? Yeah. . .life.
Also, welcome to my new self timer wall.
-The Monster Queen
Cool fact about NY: you can wear the exact same outfit three nights in a row and no one will notice. Probably because you won't see any of the same people. Even in your house. Did I mention that I live with six other people? Yeah. . .life.
Also, welcome to my new self timer wall.
-The Monster Queen
Saturday, August 6, 2011
The setting
New York is hard.
In so many ways. I wanted to be an exception (what's new?) and fall madly in love with New York the moment I set foot in it. I wanted to feel home and not ever want to leave. But New York is hard. I could list all of the things and ways in which New York is such a difficult place but I'm not going to. Instead I'm going to focus on the things I love.
I love the train ride. Not the subway- it's busy, and loud, and exactly as it should be- but the train. The forty minute ride from my town to NYC. The forty minutes in which I am allowed to sit still. In which I am given time to observe people- admire their clothes, determine if they are visiting or residential, listen to them comfort their tired children late at night. I love waiting to hear the inevitable can of beer being opened in the train car, and I love the smile that comes across my face when I do. I especially love when that person is sitting across from me and I get to watch them enjoy that small part of their day. And the train conductor. The train conductor is my favorite. Who, nine times out of ten has an accent so thick that you know he's spent his entire life in this state; a permanent native. In an instant you find yourself painting a picture of his life; he grew up in the ghetto, with half a dozen siblings and a working single mother. He graduated high school with integrity and good grades but too much responsibility to do anything after high school other than find a good paying job. Maybe he's been working the train system ever since. Maybe he's divorced. Maybe he has his own kids now. He's a man whose story you'd love to hear over a cup of coffee at 5 a.m.
You see, these forty minutes are the forty minutes in which I still get to romanticize about New York. I get to forget my own current circumstances and I get to dream about the place in which so many stories are set. I get to write my own stories here.
-The Monster Queen
In so many ways. I wanted to be an exception (what's new?) and fall madly in love with New York the moment I set foot in it. I wanted to feel home and not ever want to leave. But New York is hard. I could list all of the things and ways in which New York is such a difficult place but I'm not going to. Instead I'm going to focus on the things I love.
I love the train ride. Not the subway- it's busy, and loud, and exactly as it should be- but the train. The forty minute ride from my town to NYC. The forty minutes in which I am allowed to sit still. In which I am given time to observe people- admire their clothes, determine if they are visiting or residential, listen to them comfort their tired children late at night. I love waiting to hear the inevitable can of beer being opened in the train car, and I love the smile that comes across my face when I do. I especially love when that person is sitting across from me and I get to watch them enjoy that small part of their day. And the train conductor. The train conductor is my favorite. Who, nine times out of ten has an accent so thick that you know he's spent his entire life in this state; a permanent native. In an instant you find yourself painting a picture of his life; he grew up in the ghetto, with half a dozen siblings and a working single mother. He graduated high school with integrity and good grades but too much responsibility to do anything after high school other than find a good paying job. Maybe he's been working the train system ever since. Maybe he's divorced. Maybe he has his own kids now. He's a man whose story you'd love to hear over a cup of coffee at 5 a.m.
You see, these forty minutes are the forty minutes in which I still get to romanticize about New York. I get to forget my own current circumstances and I get to dream about the place in which so many stories are set. I get to write my own stories here.
-The Monster Queen
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
SoDak
Are you thinking about taking a trip through South Dakota? Please allow me to walk you through how that trip will go. . .
The anticipation about seeing Mount Rushmore will get you to Mount Rushmore without too much thought. I mean, dead Presidents carved into a mountain- nothing else quite says "this is America bitches!". You will note that from the initial angle Abe Lincoln and Ted Roosevelt look like they're about to embrace each other in a kiss. But from the designated angle they're much more heterosexual. You're favorite part will be Roosevelt's mustache, and the smirk on Jefferson's face will likely cause you to try and determine what he is thinking. One of the things you come up with will be "I just farted".
After about seven minutes of photos with all of the pose and angle combinations you can come up with you'll begin to wonder what you're suppose to do now. Leaving seems a little anticlimactic. You'll probably buy a t-shirt and a magnet so that you can often and fondly remember the time you spent with America's stone fathers. As you leave you should probably thank them for their contributions.
By this time you'll have likely seen brochures for Crazy Horse, another stone monument that is a mere twenty miles away. And if you've spent ANY time in Wyoming you know that our Native history is just as (if not more) important than our American history. Now I mean no disrespect to our Native ancestors but I'm going to give you a heads up right now- the monument is not finished, costs $10 per person to view, and will make you wish you could have those twenty miles back. Take a good look at that brochure because I promise you that photo is more satisfying. And it's free.
Next on your itinerary is The Badlands National Park. The fifty mile drive and $15 fee is worth it. At just about any time of day I would imagine this incredible creation reminiscent of The Land Before Time is always as breath taking. Take your kids.
Since South Dakota happens to be deceivingly wide, by this time you will likely be looking for a place to sleep. Now believe it or not, motels WILL be booked, so you will need to reserve a room online ahead of time and if you happen to stay in Kadoka, please stay at the Dakota Inn. If for no other reason but that the old man at the front desk will know who you are not because he asked for your name or ID (he will do neither) but because you will be the only person who has reserved a room online- possibly ever. The carpet is alarmingly red but I'm sure they clean after every time someone is killed. There may or may not be dead crickets in your room.
In the morning you'll be glad that there is a cafe, called CAFE, right across the gravel patch from the Inn. Don't get too excited though, they only take cash. Just continue onward until you see the next stop for a restaurant. This will bring you to a town that displays more signs reading "An 1880 town!" than signs displaying the town's actual name. Upon entering this restaurant you might be fooled into thinking you're about to have an amazing, home-cooked, diner-style meal. And you might be- as long as you don't confuse them by ordering ANYTHING that differs from the six items on their menu- this includes asking for any item without the meat, expecting cheese, asking for your breakfast sandwich on an English muffin, or drinking the coffee. DON'T DRINK THE COFFEE. And don't worry, their neighbor doesn't take as long as you think to deliver the cheese. The American Kraft Singles cheese.
Now South Dakota gets exciting.
Psych!
South Dakota doesn't ever get exciting. They have a lot of Amish people (Driving cars. Yes, it seemed weird to me too.) and people who reenact old saloon robbery scenes JUST FOR FUN in fake old towns, and you might think they have a lot of corn BUT THEY DON'T. So now, NOW, you get to drive. Miles and miles and miles. With nothing to look at except for fields. FIELDS OF NOTHING. Seriously, if South Dakota is growing something I DON'T KNOW WHAT IT IS. And if you're lucky like me, the rain in south Dakota will tear the paint off your car and then you will have car trouble in Sioux Falls, the only place in that state that even resembles a city. And you might think "I bet they have a lot of mechanics here because they probably have to fix their own cars a lot", but you'd be wrong. In fact, the repair shop that everyone recommends to you (which also doubles as a home and garden store) will strangely misplace their mechanic from time to time. The next mechanic you find won't have time for you. But don't worry, three hours, $300, and conversations with strangely friendly local ladies in the auto repair lounge and you'll be good to go.
And go you will. Miles and miles and miles. There is one last site to see in South Dakota. The Corn Palace. And if you have more sanity than I did by the time you get there, by all means, stop! I hear it's a gymnasium on the inside. Which is cool. You know, if you have nothing better to do but shoot hoops in a gymnasium in South Dakota. Possibly with Amish people.
So I get why South Dakota is called the Mount Rushmore state. Their other options were The Amish State, The State That Pretends to Have Corn, or The So-Boring-You-Might-Stab-Yourself-For-Fun State.
Enjoy your travels and God bless America.
-The Monster Queen
The anticipation about seeing Mount Rushmore will get you to Mount Rushmore without too much thought. I mean, dead Presidents carved into a mountain- nothing else quite says "this is America bitches!". You will note that from the initial angle Abe Lincoln and Ted Roosevelt look like they're about to embrace each other in a kiss. But from the designated angle they're much more heterosexual. You're favorite part will be Roosevelt's mustache, and the smirk on Jefferson's face will likely cause you to try and determine what he is thinking. One of the things you come up with will be "I just farted".
After about seven minutes of photos with all of the pose and angle combinations you can come up with you'll begin to wonder what you're suppose to do now. Leaving seems a little anticlimactic. You'll probably buy a t-shirt and a magnet so that you can often and fondly remember the time you spent with America's stone fathers. As you leave you should probably thank them for their contributions.
By this time you'll have likely seen brochures for Crazy Horse, another stone monument that is a mere twenty miles away. And if you've spent ANY time in Wyoming you know that our Native history is just as (if not more) important than our American history. Now I mean no disrespect to our Native ancestors but I'm going to give you a heads up right now- the monument is not finished, costs $10 per person to view, and will make you wish you could have those twenty miles back. Take a good look at that brochure because I promise you that photo is more satisfying. And it's free.
Next on your itinerary is The Badlands National Park. The fifty mile drive and $15 fee is worth it. At just about any time of day I would imagine this incredible creation reminiscent of The Land Before Time is always as breath taking. Take your kids.
Since South Dakota happens to be deceivingly wide, by this time you will likely be looking for a place to sleep. Now believe it or not, motels WILL be booked, so you will need to reserve a room online ahead of time and if you happen to stay in Kadoka, please stay at the Dakota Inn. If for no other reason but that the old man at the front desk will know who you are not because he asked for your name or ID (he will do neither) but because you will be the only person who has reserved a room online- possibly ever. The carpet is alarmingly red but I'm sure they clean after every time someone is killed. There may or may not be dead crickets in your room.
In the morning you'll be glad that there is a cafe, called CAFE, right across the gravel patch from the Inn. Don't get too excited though, they only take cash. Just continue onward until you see the next stop for a restaurant. This will bring you to a town that displays more signs reading "An 1880 town!" than signs displaying the town's actual name. Upon entering this restaurant you might be fooled into thinking you're about to have an amazing, home-cooked, diner-style meal. And you might be- as long as you don't confuse them by ordering ANYTHING that differs from the six items on their menu- this includes asking for any item without the meat, expecting cheese, asking for your breakfast sandwich on an English muffin, or drinking the coffee. DON'T DRINK THE COFFEE. And don't worry, their neighbor doesn't take as long as you think to deliver the cheese. The American Kraft Singles cheese.
Now South Dakota gets exciting.
Psych!
South Dakota doesn't ever get exciting. They have a lot of Amish people (Driving cars. Yes, it seemed weird to me too.) and people who reenact old saloon robbery scenes JUST FOR FUN in fake old towns, and you might think they have a lot of corn BUT THEY DON'T. So now, NOW, you get to drive. Miles and miles and miles. With nothing to look at except for fields. FIELDS OF NOTHING. Seriously, if South Dakota is growing something I DON'T KNOW WHAT IT IS. And if you're lucky like me, the rain in south Dakota will tear the paint off your car and then you will have car trouble in Sioux Falls, the only place in that state that even resembles a city. And you might think "I bet they have a lot of mechanics here because they probably have to fix their own cars a lot", but you'd be wrong. In fact, the repair shop that everyone recommends to you (which also doubles as a home and garden store) will strangely misplace their mechanic from time to time. The next mechanic you find won't have time for you. But don't worry, three hours, $300, and conversations with strangely friendly local ladies in the auto repair lounge and you'll be good to go.
And go you will. Miles and miles and miles. There is one last site to see in South Dakota. The Corn Palace. And if you have more sanity than I did by the time you get there, by all means, stop! I hear it's a gymnasium on the inside. Which is cool. You know, if you have nothing better to do but shoot hoops in a gymnasium in South Dakota. Possibly with Amish people.
So I get why South Dakota is called the Mount Rushmore state. Their other options were The Amish State, The State That Pretends to Have Corn, or The So-Boring-You-Might-Stab-Yourself-For-Fun State.
Enjoy your travels and God bless America.
-The Monster Queen
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