HI...

There's a reason I have started posting over on Words For This Day.  There's a reason I feel the need to separate from Blissfully Jeanette at this time.  There's a reason but I don't feel like explaining it as of yet so I'll just say...

I posted on my other blog today and you can read it by clicking HERE

Thank you. I love you. Bye-bye.

Change is a comin'...

When designing a board of blissful affirmation, or vision board as it can also be called, the rule to follow is to include whatever jumps out at you even if you don’t know why it’s jumping out at you.  Your subconscious mind knows why it’s jumping out at you and while making a vision board your subconscious mind is king.

Because of this rule I have some pretty interesting things on my happy little vision boards (and they do make me happy) things that I believe will be accomplished someday—somehow.

And there is something that must be accomplished someday—somehow.  Something that has been on my mind a lot as of late.  Something that appears not only once but twice on my vision boards.  I MUST help to start a REVOLUTION.  I MUST.  I don’t know the how but I know the why and I know that I must.

I won’t go into the details of this revolution right now, but last night I cried unto the Lord, pleading with him to help shape me into someone who can do this—because oh how small and weak I feel on my own.  But my God is strong and with Him all things are possible.

So the revolution starts today and it starts with me.  I told the Lord that I will do everything in my power to become who I need to be to make this happen.

 

It won’t be easy.

But I suppose revolutions rarely are.

I'm over yonder again...

Howdy all y'all.  Just wanted to tell you that I posted over on...
 
http://words4thisday.blogspot.com/

again today.  Hmm, I wonder what happened to my button...

Oh well.  Please join me over there by clicking the address above or this HERE right HERE. :)

K, I love you, bye-bye.

1, 2, 3 ready or not, come and find me...

Hi y'all come on over and visit me here at WORDS FOR THIS DAY

 

Apparently my button has disappeared but visit me anyway because that's where I posted.

 K I love you bye-bye.

Confessions of a mean (but stylish) lady...

 

So here's the story... Once upon a time--as in right now at this time--there were little children who charge my car whenever we happen to be on the road together. If I'm coming home they charge my car. If I'm leaving they charge my car. Why? Because they want me to give them a ride. These are not my children mind you but those of my neighbor. So I often stop and let them in, which is a big ordeal because there are a lot of them and it takes them awhile to get in and assemble themselves.  And then they start touching everything and asking me questions and eating the fruit snacks I just bought, without asking.  In short, they annoy me.  Which makes me feel bad.  Because children are precious little souls and all that jazz. 

But that is not the confession of my meanness. The confession of my meanness goes a little something like this...


Once upon a time--as in yesterday--said children charged my car as they were walking home from the bus and it irritated me because yesterday I was in no mood to be annoyed.  And I wanted the precious little ones to know that they cannot just assume that a car is always going to stop for them.  So I waved enthusiastically, "Hi guys.  How ya doing?  See ya later."  and slowly drove right past them.  Then one of the little boys started to cry.  Yes he ran to his sister and cried.  An event that I watched through my rear view mirror as I left him standing there in a haze of dust and tears.


"I feel so bad."  I said to my children as we walked into the house.  "I'm a mean person.  I shouldn't have done that."

"You're not a mean person."  Jamie assured me.  "You're kind to everyone and you always smile and do nice things for people.  You're not mean at all."  Then pointing at me with a finger pistol she gave a smooth flick of her wrist and said, "And... you're very stylish." 

That girl seriously cracks me up.  Hope no mean person ever leaves her in a haze of dust and tears.

p.s.
should I tell the parents that their children have a habit of charging moving vehicles.  I can't decide.  I don't want to embarrass them or get the kids into trouble, but really...

Cupcake Wars...

I have a strange obsession. It's true. I'm obsessed with finding and or making the perfect cupcake.  Why is this so strange?  You might ask.  Well because It's not like I even care that much about cake.  I mean cake's good and all but I certainly don't dream about it at night.

And yet I do dream about creating and or finding the perfect cupcake.  Strange.  I know there must be one out there.  Why else would there be entire TV shows devoted to their creation and why else would people stand in large lines to pay forty bucks for a dozen of them.  Forty bucks.  No lie.  That's how much my darling love paid for a box of Sprinkles cupcakes because he knows of my obsession and wanted to please me.  And I was excited and squealed with delight and then said, "Eh, they're alright."  Because they were just alright.  And I know people are reading this right now and calling me dumb for saying that.  But what can I do?

So I concocted some recipes in my head the other day then visited the grocery store where I spent an obscene amount of money on supplies (I'm obsessed I tell you) and came home to create one of my three newly concocted recipes.  I began with coconut because I love coconut.  And no the above picture is not my coconut cupcakes but those of the Barefoot Contessa because I am too lazy to take a picture.  So I made my coconut cupcake and my coconut frosting and I took a bite and said, "These are good but they're not quite there yet."  To which my girls replied, "Are you crazy?  This is the most amazing cupcake ever."   So I'm thinking maybe my expectations are too high.  Maybe I'm waiting for Angels to sing and maybe Angels are too busy to sing for cupcakes.

But the next day when I decided to eat one of my coconut cupcakes for breakfast (told you I'd never make it into the super fit people club) something happened.  I actually think I  heard an angel sing and I may have even wept a little because that was the best flippin' cupcake ever.  I can't even lie or fake modesty.  Even though I probably should because that's the proper thing to do.  Seriously yummy.  Seriously.  And so I proceeded to eat four more (throughout the day mind you) and four more the next day and now there's only one left which I must hurry and eat before my kids get home.  You know, because of that whole, "put the oxygen mask on yourself first" thing.  Just trying to be a good mom here that's all.

And now comes the part of this post where I'm supposed to share the recipe with y'all.  Only I started thinking maybe I'll just keep it to myself because then you will have to invite me to your parties. 

"Hey I know lets invite Jeanette."
"No she's dumb.  She doesn't even like Sprinkles cupcakes."

"I know but she makes the most amazing Coconut Cupcakes!"

"Oh yeah that's right.  Hurry and invite her!"

Then I'll feel all important and loved because I'll get invited to so many shindigs I won't even know what to do with myself.
  
So call me.  I'll bring cupcakes.

P.S.
If you don't like coconut don't worry.  I still have two more recipes waiting for their spotlight.  But more on that later...

I don't think I'll make it into that club...

I decided something this morning as I was working out...
I decided that fit people deserve to be admired.
They deserve every double take, side-eyed glance, dropped jaw gawk, every "Dang I wish I looked like her." ALL OF IT.
Because working out pretty much stinks. And telling myself to put down the snickerdoodle that I've picked up five times this morning stinks too.
So to all of you--do your work out everyday and put down the snickerdoodle--kind of people out there I say flaunt it. I won't hate you because you're beautiful (remember those commercials?) because you deserve every bit of your glory.
Really. I mean it.

So special...

I bought four mugs. We have seven people currently living in our home, but I bought four mugs. It's all the thrift store had. Four. I debated, but they were cute. So I bought them.

I set the table with my four new mugs. We have seven people currently eating at our table, but I only had four new mugs. So I alternated them with complimenting white mugs. It looked cute. I felt satisfied.

"Why don't I get a special mug?" I heard Jamie say. Followed by, "Ooo, I want a special mug." Coming from Waylon. So we adjusted and did some rearranging until all who wanted "special mugs" had one.

And I thought, "I love children." I love how their precious little minds take the simplest of things and make them "special" and exciting. If only we could remember this as mothers. Oh the world we could create for these wide-eyed, magical little souls. And oh the world we would create for ourselves in the process.

Now ye may suppose that this is foolishness in me; but behold I say unto you, that by small and simple things are great things brought to pass;
Alma 37:6

Random questions answered...

I'm sick tonight. My nose is bright red and owie. Not fun.
My husband isn't home and I have to take a break from writing or my head will pop off. Which might be okay since my nose is red and owie, but for now I think I'll try to keep it on.

So I'm taking a break and reading blogs. On BBL (one of my favorite blogs)
I found a tag game thingy. I'm too sick and tired to follow all of the rules of the tag game thingy but I thought I'd take a minute to at least answer the question portion of the tag game thingy.
Here goes:

1. If you had to wear skirts for the rest of your life, or jeans for the rest of your life, which would you choose?
The only reason I had to pause and think on this question is because I love pumps and I made a deal with my feet that I would only wear pumps with dresses so as not to destroy them (them being my feet) but I prefer jeans because I'm often cold and I don't always like to sit like a lady.

2. What was your favorite PBS kids show growing up?
The Electric Company. I remember a song about eating spaghetti with a spoon. What a mess. And I loved the silhouette word people. Sh....ip, Ship. And of course the beginning, "Hey you guys!" Awesome.

3. Who is cooler? Zack Morris or Cory Matthews?
I was an older teen then young married when "Saved by the Bell" and "Boy Meets World" were on TV so I only watched them a few times but I would definitely, definitely pick Cory Matthews. Definitely.

4. What is your least favorite smell in the world?
I'm drawing a blank on this one. Maybe because my nose is stuffed up right now.

5. What's the worst injury you have ever had?
My owie, owie broken foot. That was the worst pain ever! (for me. I'm sure there are many others who've had worse pain than that. And I'm sorry for them. Really.)

6. What book have you read more than once?
"The Hiding Place" by Corrie ten Boom. I've read it at least three times. Maybe four.

7. What do you take the most photos of?
My kids. But not enough. I often forget to take pictures. Bad

8. What is the first perfume you ever purchased/wore?
Beautiful by Estee Lauder. My mom's.

9. What is your ideal date?
Good food. Good conversation. And an occasional visit to a shoe store ;)

10. Tell me your favorite thing about the state you live in.
The weather. The diversity. I love that we can travel from the hot cactus filled desert to the cool pine tree covered mountains in a matter of a few hours. I just wish I still lived in the hot cactus filled desert part instead of the cold mountains but whatever.

11. Most frequented website?
Amazon.com though I've been visiting the fabric guru a lot lately because I really want to make new curtains (if you haven't guessed, I don't spend much time on the internet)

So there you have my very condensed version of the tag game thingy. If you'd like to see the entire tag game thingy visit BBL right now. Go ahead. I think you'll like her. She's super cute and fun :)

Now I'm going to bed because I'm not feeling cute or fun right now. Nope.

And she's off...

I've heard it said that if you give your fears a voice they lose their power. And that must be true because after posting yesterday's "confessions of a wimpy writer" (which I thought about deleting because I sound like such a dork)I sat down and wrote.

I wrote and I wrote until I looked up to notice that I had over 1000 words written. Woo-hoo. It seems I have found the story I was meant to tell because it's practically writing itself. And it's not scary, it's fun (and heart wrenching--sorry, it's what I do).

Now my biggest problem is that I never want to stop writing. Why don't homes have a self cleaning button? Why?

Don't be hatin' on my breakfast beverage...

This morning, over a breakfast of tomato juice and gluten free crackers, I had a little talk with myself.

*Side note*
I pretty much love tomato and or vegetable juice for breakfast. And I love to drink said juice in fancy glasses. My kids are aware of this fact and gift me with fancy glasses every Christmas. This latest one being from Miss Jamie. Thanks J.

During our little talk I asked myself this question, "Self why are you looking at blogs right now instead of writing. Furthermore self, why have you avoided writing for months? Why self? Why?"

Some time ago I read an article about procrastination, which stated that there is always something behind our putting things off. The article listed examples of why we might put things off and as I read it I realized that I put off writing because I don't want to find out that I actually stink at it. I don't want to find out that I can't do it.

On the flip side of that, I'm quite certain that I can. We humans are such manic little creatures. I can write. My writer's group all but threw flowers at me the last time I shared one of my works with them and told me I'd better finish it because they must know what happens. Marlee tells me everyday, "Mom the world needs good writers. Please write your book." And yet...

Yes--sadly, ridiculously--there is still a yet. Yet I look at my writing in disbelief. "How could these words have come from me?" I wonder. "Surely they were a fluke. I can't possibly have anything more."

So I procrastinate. I let days, weeks, months pass by while I walk around tied up in knots (because if we're not true to our gifts, we can't help but feel tied up). And I wait. Wait for what? I don't know. I've already received conformation that I should do this. I've already had a perfect moment of clarity when I learned exactly what I should write--complete with a title, and you know I hate coming up with titles (I wrote the experience in my journal because I knew my doubt would try to cast it away) and I make myself freakin sob each morning as the story rolls through my brain (I tend to write things that make people cry. why? No idea.) So why not just sit down and write it already?

I'm scared. That's why.

P.S.
In a recent writer's meeting it was said that once you know the rules of writing you can break them, at which time I confessed that I break all of the rules on my blog. I am therefore aware that, if based solely upon this blog, you may think me a horrible writer. I am sorry. But not really. Because this writing is easy. And it doesn't scare me. So the end.

True Bliss...

Today marks 22 years

And it just keeps getting better :)

What the Hell-'s Angels...

WRITER'S WORKSHOP PROMPT:
A memorable day at work.

(me and Mr. Rick when we were both flirty young college thangs)

I've never written a romance novel. Never even tried. But there's a part of me that thinks it might be fun. You know, just a little part. And that little part wanted to show up today to write about a memorable day at work. That little part wanted to take creative license to make that memorable day at work extra juicy (just for fun) because it did indeed have all of the makings of a very juicy story. But I decided to refrain from embellishing said juicy story for two reasons.

One...
I never take creative license on my blog posts they are (sadly) all true.
and
Two...
I wouldn't want my darling love to read this post and think that I had a very juicy memorable day at work (even though we weren't married at the time).

It happened while I was employed by a group of Hell's Angels (at least I had been told they were Hell's Angels, a story that their appearance and behavior certainly backed up). I was a flirty young college thang working alongside a flirty young son of a Hell's Angel thang, which made for some crazy, yet wholesome :), playful banter.

I wasn't just a flirty young college thang however. I was a very much in love flirty young college thang. And not with the son of a Hell's Angel mind you, but with my very own Mr. Ricky Blissful (I'm thinking he's going to love that I called him Mr. Ricky Blissful and I'm thinking he'll probably say something like, "What the heck..." only he doesn't say heck so you know, I took creative license with that one)

I'm telling you I had it bad for Mr. Rick (he hasn't been Ricky since grade school) and the son of a Hell's Angel knew it. Which only made him turn up the heat on his playful banter. Until one day...

Insert steamy romance novel here...

The son of a Hell's Angel cornered Jeanette in the back office, begging her to forget that other guy and be with him.

She smiled coyly, because that's what flirty young college thangs do, pressing her hand against his chest. "I can't son of a Hell's Angel. I don't want to. I love him." She turned to leave but he grabbed her, pinning her against the wall. With one arm draped above her head and the other on her waist he put his lips dangerously close to hers and whispered, "You know you'd rather be with me."

...and that's where the romance novel ends because I pushed him off of me, told him to quit being stupid, and we continued to laugh, joke around and remain "just friends".

As for Mr. Ricky Blissful? Well he and I remained friends too...AND SO MUCH MORE... a story that could make for a pretty juicy novel in and of itself. But again I'll refrain and just say...

The End.

Everyday...

Yesterday I walked into the grocery store to find people swarming around tables full of flowers, candies, cakes and balloons. Oh the stress, oh the frenzy. I then bought my loaf of bread, stick of butter and container of milk (anyone watch that on Sesame Street?) and calmly, quietly, contently left the store.

I got home to find that my love had already returned from work. I gave him a hug, a smooch and said, "Thank you so much for not making a big deal out of Valentine's Day. I was so glad that I didn't have to worry about buying any of that crap today."

"Thank you." He said. "You're the woman and Valentine's Day is for women. It's you that makes us not have to buy all of that crap."

"Why don't you care about Valentine's Day?" Marlee asked.

The answer is two fold...

One, our anniversary is two days after Valentine's Day so Valentine's Day has always paled in comparison and two--and I figured this out after some pondering-- we don't need Valentine's Day because everyday is a lover's holiday around here.

Everyday is filled with "I love you. You're awesome. You're the most amazing person I have ever met. Thank you for how hard you work for us. That was the best meal I've ever eaten. You always make me feel better. You're so good to me. I need you. You make me a better person. You're the person I want to call when I have a free minute. I appreciate all you do for me. You're brilliant. You're a genius. I admire your work ethic. I admire your spirituality. You're hott. You're sexy. You make me laugh. I hit the jackpot when I married you. I could never make it through this life without you..."

Everyday is back rubs, snuggles and kisses on the neck. Everyday is LOVE. Pure, blissful, beautiful love. And I guess I just don't see how flowers, candies, cakes or balloons could make it any better.

...but a big fat breakfast burrito from El Cupidos? Now that's different.
Thanks honey for surprising me with breakfast this morning :)

Tales from the weekend...

Once upon a time last Saturday, I drove Rick to Show Low to meet up with some people for a business trip. While there I thought, "Why not hit some yard sales." Why not indeed. But after driving a country mile--using the sun as my guide so as not to be forever lost in the forest--only to find one yard sale with nothing more than a small table of used Valentine Bears and "sexy" women's lingerie (that's what the woman kept saying to me. "I've got sexy lingerie here just in time for Valentine's Day." Um...no thank you) I was reminded, that's why not. Yard sales here are ridonkulous. And then I gave myself a talking to and said, "Hello self. Please stop trying to find yard sales up here in the mountains. Stop right now. You don't have Costco here, you don't have Target here (just to name a few of the many, many things we don't have) and you do not have yard sales here. The end."

So I started driving. I drove and I drove until I ended up in Heber where I found thrift stores. Fun thrift stores. And I had a little party and bought this chair where I like to sit when I'm stoned apparently. I'm just saying the eyes are looking a little suspicious in the photo, but whatever. And now I have hope, if only a little, that maybe just maybe I can live here without dying.

Maybe.