Monday, November 27, 2006

Healer of Small Things

We had the neighborhood kids in our backyard yesterday, and they tore the place apart, as excited kids often do. I sat on the parkbench watching as they "flew" the kite (tearing tree branches when it got caught), kicked the ball into the soccer net (smashing the surrounding vegetation), sent things down the slide (dismantling the lawn ornaments - wheee!) and used a toy shovel to dig (sending mulch flying everywhere). Did I stop them? Umm, no. I recognize a losing battle when I see one, and it is the fall, so everything must die anyways. At least this way, it was quick and entertaining.

After the hoarde of child barbarians moved on to the next destructive task, I noticed my 2 1/2 year old son Nicky, trailing in their wake. The hoarde had just dismantled these decorative garden stakes with blue reflective orbs on them using a loud and annoying electronic grabber-toy. When the kids moved on, Nicky, with tiny, careful hands, fished the orbs out of the bushes, and placed each one carefully back upon it's stake. One after the other he reassembled all six of them, unaware that his mommmy was watching him in stunned silence.

"Thank you Nicky." I said, when he was done.

He smiled shyly and ran away.

I love you Nicky, my precious one. You're mommy's healer of small things.

Saturday, November 25, 2006

Swimming with the Fishes

So, big confession time kids.

I just got a HUGE new job (promotion) at work. I actually have been going through the process of soul-searching, and then applying, and then waiting, and then interviewing, and then waiting some more and then finding out the results. And this week past was my first week in the new role. It's been a very stressful time, with a lot of soul-searching, and heart-wrenching questions such as: "What do I want to do with my life?" "Is this the right thing for me and my family?" "Is my life over if I make the wrong decision?" "Is this the road to ruin?" And I have been going through OVER a month of this. And was I able to adequately answer any of these questions?


So if anyone has noticed the morose quality to my musings lately, that would be why.

So here I am, little fish in a big pond again, and I'm not sure where my head and my ass are, and the sharks are circling, but as Dory from 'Finding Nemo' says, "just keep swimming...just keep swimming...just keep swimming, swimming, swimming..."

I came across this today:

It felt totally appropriate to what I have been through, and it gave me a little boost. Along with the picture, I read this:

"The natural immediate response to criticism is to feel discouraged and unhappy. However, as with failure, criticism has a very positive side. If you are being criticised it may well be an indication that you have taken a risk and chosen to tackle something which is a challenge to you. Receiving such criticism may be infinitely preferable to being praised for something which is simple and predictable."

*sigh* That's me all right.

Thursday, November 23, 2006

Note to Self

Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, "I will try again tomorrow".

Monday, November 20, 2006

Mr. Happy Pants

There is a person at my work who I always say 'hello' to and he never responds politely. No smile. No head nod. No little wave. He just STARES at me like I am not there, or sometimes, like I am the world's biggest piece of crap. And it's not like I don't know him. I introduced myself on my first day, asked him what he did and told him about my role - the usual when you have new coworkers. He seemed quiet and tiredly arrogant.

We passed each other in the hall today, and I did my usual cheery "good morning" and yet again, I was kinda glared at. Oh, I know this person is capable of normal speech. We talked once or twice early on when I had questions, though never for more than 2 seconds, and I have even seen him talk to other people on occasion. I also think he smiles - I recall at some point seeing him in animated discussion with someone and nearly falling over from the shock of it.

The worst part is, I never learn! I'm still saying my polite 'hellos' after all these months, and I'm still getting the same 'go to hell and die' glare. I mean, I can't just IGNORE a person, not when we work in close quarters! It's just not like me to turn my head and deliberately snub someone! And I'm not hurt or upset by it...just...puzzled...

Any thoughts?

Monday, November 13, 2006

Darkness and Light

On a dark and cool Friday night, a depressed and stressed-out woman went for a walk, alone. As she walked the foggy, abandoned streets, she pondered how everything was wrong. How she couldn't take it anymore. How she was nothing and nobody and too tired and too alone to carry on. She pulled her scarf tighter against the chill, and crossed the dimly lit side-streets like a ghost.

She made no sound.

Led by some invisible force, she found her way to the big park, and wandered across the damp black field until she came to the baseball diamond. Then she sat on the dugout bench, in pitch blackness, and cry. It was not long. The heavy fog and intimate darkness muffled the sound of her sobs.

She sat there for hours, until her fingers and toes were icy, until the moon was high. Until the young lovers on the bench under the streetlamp were done. The whole time, they did not know she was there.

And then she walked home, only mildly soothed by her emotional release, but still hating herself for being weak.

The next day she spent some time with friends and lamented her pain with her husband, but nothing really eased the fear and the panic. Later that night, she craved music. She darkened the house, lit the candles and put on her favourite CD. Her children came quickly, and she instinctually taught them to recognize the different instruments, the parts of music, the beat - they were entranced. She showed them how one was "supposed" to move to the different kinds of music.

And then, her 5-yr-old son said something so profound, it shook her to her core.

"Can I just dance what's in my heart?"

His innocent wisdom lit her insides like a burning flame. She accepted her sadness and fear. And as the feelings flowed over her, she was no longer afraid, and she did not drown.

That night they all danced what was in their hearts.

Wednesday, November 08, 2006

Come Over to the Dark Side...

Weary of pedantic, saccharine personality quizzes, Franny takes a trip to the dark side...let's take a walk in the moonlit fog, shall we?

Which Slytherin Are YOU?

You are Lucius Malfoy. What a guy - aristocratic, clever and mean because it's purely entertaining. So, what are you going to do tonight, Lucius? The same thing you do every night? ... Yes? Pity. Those pathetic Muggles will never see you coming...

Take this quiz!

Who's Your Hidden Villain?

Jason Voorhees from Friday the 13th

Oh dear, you have some worrying psychopathic tendencies. Did someone do you wrong when you were young? Perhaps you had a nasty incident in a paddling pool or other aquatic environment? Whatever, why are you still looking for revenge? It's probably time to let it go. Go on, put down the machete and call a councillor. You have some serious issues that need addressing and it's never too late to sort them out. Okay so you get a kick out of frightening people, but take off the hockey mask and try looking them in eye, face to face. You might be surprised that a "non-murderous" approach to problem solving actually works!
Take this test.

Which Batman Baddie are YOU?

You're TWOFACE. Sometimes you're an angel, sometimes you're a DEVIL. Either way, you're mentally warped, greedy, and often argue with yourself. Perhaps you should step in front of a mirror and ask yourself who's really there...
Which Batman Villain Are You Most Like?

Fear me, mere mortals!!! Mwa ha ha! What do you think of my results?

Also, a challenge: "I tell you things, you tell me things. Not about this case, though. About yourself. Quid pro quo. Yes or no?" Tell me about your inner villain(s), my blogging friends...

Monday, November 06, 2006

Unreasonable Fantasies...

Ok, so a lot of women fantasize about running away with their favourite hot celebrity. I am unusual in the fact that my fantasies involve TURNING DOWN my sexy, rich dream celebrity-man (the celebrities are interchangeable). For example:

Alan Rickman/Josh Groban/Ewan MacGregor: Oh, Franny, I cannot LIVE without you any more! Let me take you to my villa in southern Italy where we can live out our days in each other's passionate embrace!

Me: No...please...I can't do this...

AR/JG/EM: Do not fear my fame and riches! I would gladly give it all up just to be with you - you are the most precious woman in the world! You alone are my destiny! You alone understand me and can make me whole again!

Me: *melodramatic pose* Oh Alan/Josh/Ewan! I cannot! I have committed myself to my children and to my husband forever! I am so sorry, but I...I simply...cannot!

AR/JG/EM: No! I will be forever lost without you! *sobbing on knees* How can you condemn me to a lifetime of emptiness without you?! You, the guardian of my SOUL!?

Me: I am so sorry A/J/E! I didn't mean for you to fall desperately in love with me! Please, you must destiny lies elsewhere. You must find a way to carry on without me!

AR/JG/EM: I will try to find a way, but know that every day my heart will cry out for you! Though we may be apart, I swear I will honour you in my deeds and actions for eternity!

Yah, okay...look, I gotta go...the kids need dinner...

AR/JG/EM: Goodbye my beloved...goodbye!

*I speed off in my minivan and he chases it for a couple blocks screaming my name until he collapses, sobbing in the road*

Then, every time I see my hottie on TV or making records or movies, I will always know that secretly, his heart cries out for the one woman he could never have...ME.
Every interview where they ask him about his love life, I will see the unfulfilled sadness in his eyes as he talks about the only woman he ever loved... and I'll always know that all the supermodels/actresses he married since then were just fill-ins for me.


Okay, hi everyone...sorry, I kinda left the premises for a minute there...

Anyhow, there's something about knowing that my hotties CANNOT have me that is even more fulfilling than fantasizing about them actually having me! Am I making any sense? I guess this way I don't feel guilty, because technically I have done the "right thing", even though I have torn apart the heart of the millionaire celebrity hottie.

I guess I just don't want a sticky torrid fantasy affair. Being the object of chivalrous agony from afar will do me just fine while I have so much love in my actual life.

I wonder how my hubby would feel if he knew I choose him (and the kids) over these rich, suave, sexy & usually british-accented hotties, even in my daydreams?

Saturday, November 04, 2006

A Movie Moment Fable

The following is from the movie Cinema Paradiso, likely my favorite movie of all time. It is translated from the original Italian, and features an old man, using a fable to explain "love" to an infatuated young boy:

MAN: "Once...a king gave a feast for the loveliest princesses in the realm. Now, a soldier who was standing guard saw the king's daughter go by. She was the most beautiful of all and he fell instantly in love. But what is a simple soldier next to the daughter of a king? At last he succeeded in meeting her, and he told her he could no longer live without her. The princess was so taken by the depth of his feeling that she said to the soldier, "If you can wait for 100 days and 100 nights under my balcony, at the end of it I shall be yours."

With that the soldier went and waited one day...
two days...
then ten...
then twenty.

Each evening the princess looked out, and he never moved! In rain, in wind, in snow, he was always there! Birds shat on his head, bees stung him- but he didn't budge. At the end of ninety nights he had become all dry, all white. Tears streamed from his eyes. He couldn't hold them back. He didn't even have the strength to sleep. And all that time, the princess watched him.

At long last, it was the 99th night...and the soldier stood up, took his chair and left."

BOY: "What happened at the end?"

MAN: "That *is* the end. And don't ask what it means. I don't know."


I think the old man knew exactly what it meant, though he wanted the boy to figure it out for himself.

I have told this story to countless friends, because there are so many poignant morals in it, and I hope it has helped them, even in a *small* way.

So tell me, what is the moral of the story, to YOU?

Thursday, November 02, 2006

The Blog We Have All Been Waiting For

Here's the update to Teaser Trailer (below). It's been a depressing, though highly entertaining, week:

Will our favourite blogger survive the most gruelling and vitally important interview of her life?
Who knows? It got postponed...grrr...

Will the Sweeties' bid for the house of their dreams be successful, and if so, will they have taken the first step on the the path towards financial ruin?
No and no. We got outbid by another buyer. I don't know them, but I assume they are mean and unattractive people that smell. Yes, I am immature.

Will Joey find out that his frazzled parents have no idea when the Beaver Scouts Jamboree really is?
No. We faked it, made the necessary panicked phonecalls, and got him there just in time.

Will Franny require medication and years of therapy when her friends point and laugh at her dorky Little Red Riding Hood costume?
No. But I will require medication and years of therapy for getting hit on by an old man and by a couple looking for a "third". (I am NOT kidding, LMFAO!)

Will the haggard parents be able to remove Natalie's Halloween costume in time for her high-school graduation? If they do, will she EVER stop shreiking and crying bloody murder because "I WANT TO BE STRAWBERRY SHORTCAKE, ARGHHHHHHH WAHHHHHHHHH GRRRRR!!!!!"?
No. She will wear that costume until it disintegrates. And considering the alternative, I am okay with that.