And Change Comes To All

“Perhaps you had better start from the beginning.”

-White Zombie, Electric Head Part 1

Well fuck all!

Yes, fuck all.

I am bored. I am not bored with anything more than this fucking blog. I have had this blog for going on three years and another one or two blogs for just as long…granted I killed them too. Oops, spoiler alert!

Used to be that writing for Speaking Out on Life was something that I looked forward to, hell used to get a chubby for, especially when I had a plan. By  plan, I mean five or six posts in a row that had a subject or theme or whateveryoudliketocall whatever it was that I used to do, and yes that is supposed to be one very long word. Then I graduated from college and everything went to shit, because I had NOTHiNG to write about. Nothing at all and I don’t like Seinfeld anymore than anyone else did and don’t LIE everyone hated Seinfeld, deep down in your soul or wherever that pit of humanness is you hated Seinfled. It was a show about nothing, about people who had you known them you would have unfriended and tried to find someone to take them out for as many TGIMcFuckster coupons as you could gather in your grubby hands.

Floundering about. I don’t like to flounder. I do enjoy flounder, but I don’t enjoy floundering about.

Shit fuck, I got all off on a tangent before getting..damnit, starting with the begining…who here likes history…not that five years is really history, more like a story your grandparents tell about you as a child, “Yes, yes, I was naked in the bath as a baby and it was cute how i loved the bubbles and farted causing more bubbles and a stink.” Damn that was an honest moment or was it?

It wasn’t, I was never a baby. I do fart. And tell dick jokes. And say non-appropriate things in public, I call it speaking my mind and telling stories but we all have our own view of reality and myne is way more fun.

“I’m hungry and need to kill things.”

-Me to the rather baffled checkout clerk (I had bread and fly killing devices)

So history that is not really history, I studied history, I know what history is and there I was sitting in some fuck all class being “taught” by a fuckwit, not fucktard, but fuckwit who thought she knew more than me which is normally the case in the classroom, but not her and she thought she would teach me a lesson and boy did I teach her a few. And that is how Speaking Out Life was given birth. Disgusting right?

Then…

Yes, I saw the proverbial light, actually the window was open and light did shine down on the pile of crap I was attempting to clean up and there, right there, no over there was a pile of my writing. Did I mention I am a prolific writer? I should have, as I have four books, self-published of course, no one likes my writing enough to put their career at risk to publish this shitte, of previous writing and I had an AH HA moment…speaking of Ah HA moments take a moment to enjoy this video…

fun right?

Any way to make an even longer story long, I am bored of this blog as this blog’s birth had two reasons for existing…

  • A fuckwit thought I was too profane and “professional” writers cannot be profane, thus I wanted and did prove her wrong
  • College

College is over, has been over, and the fuckwit is I assume off doing fuckwit things, thus inspired by a pile of my writing which upon reflection I thought was damn good or at least a damn site (I know that is not right site) more interesting than a lot of the clap trap I put on here, thus I return to my roots and I hope those of you who used to receive the rambling enjoy your flashbacks and nightmares.

What does that mean for here…other than some cosmetic changes and a change in overall tone, next to nothing, I will continue to Scrawl away, although the amount and frequency will change to something more realistic and fitting for interest…one other change, Puddles and Whiskers are leaving, exiting stage dive, they are getting their own blog shortly. I love those cats too much not to keep writing them, but they deserve their own place. I’ll let you know.

“I am bacon to your eggs.”

“Sounds sexual, but shouldn’t that be, I am sausage to your eggs?”

“Patties or links?”

-Conversation over a shirt at Bob Evan’s

Advertisements

You Don’t Know What Its Like To Not Want To Work

I have a work ethic.

I was raised with the understanding that work came first, then play. If there is work to do you do the work to the best of your ability. Then you play.

Over the years I have relaxed a bit on that, sometimes work can wait.

However, when there is work I do the work to the best of my abilities and I expect those around me to do the same. I do not tolerate sloppy work, fast work, lazy work, or no work.

I will teach, I will demonstrate, I will show, and I will answer questions about the work I ask people to do.

So where is this going?

As a stay at home parent, I no longer see the necessity for distinction between stay at home mom or dad you are a parent, I have a lot of work to do. I do not get paid for the work I do, nor do I complain about the work that I do. I do the work. When there is group work around here I ask for volunteers and then I expect them do to the work without me having to constantly monitor their progress.

Recently, I tried to get the children to not only clean up their room but to donate to Good Will the toys and such that they no longer play with, no longer want, or feel they are too old for. I wanted them to get a sense of giving. I also wanted a clean room and further, they are getting to ages where the toys they have take up more space and need more care, thus time to turn into the next stage towards adultswhohavehobbies.

I asked the children to fill up totes with toys and such for donation. To put trash in a trash bag and for each filled tote they would get $20. I know, how is that giving if I am paying them. They are a bit too young to totally get the giving without getting something and the money they made went into savings. Win Win in my book.

What happened has turned into an epic meantwelldisaster. The first three totes were a combination of toys and garbage. We spent six hours sorting through all three totes to get down to one tote of donation and five bags of garbage. Suffice to say there were words said, tears shed, and the parents (us) who thought they were doing a good thing in the long term, got to see how the children really took care of their stuff and thought about their stuff. It was not a pretty picture.

Frustrated, I turned clean and donate into a larger clean and donate project with daily goals and lots of sorting. Now I walk them through what is donatable, talk to the about the state of the toys I find, and am trying to re-teach them how to take care of their stuff and why they should. To show them that I am not making them do something I would not, I too have been taking stuff of mine to Good Will and other places that will find new homes for toys.

After two days of non-stop work, our eldest comes out in a huff and yells the title of this blog at me. I replied without hesitation, “No I do not know what it is like to not want to work, because I have for longer than you have been around had to work for one reason or another and since you and your sister were born had to work harder than I thought possible, even now talking to you I am working because you need to learn what it means to have a work ethic, to take pride in ALL of your work, and to stop thinking that the world or anyone else owes you time off. You have a very good life, we have worked hard to ensure that you have a better life than ours, and that you and your sister have treated your stuff with such disrespect and now are telling me that I do not understand your position only tells me that I have more work to do.”

He left in a huff, but came back with three full totes, without trash mixed into them. Work never ends, at least for me it doesn’t.

1,625th Pony Party Post Extravaganza!

Welcome to the 1,625th post. A lot of time has passed since the last Extravaganza, close to two years. A lot has changed both here on the blog and in the real world, not that there is much difference…well…no I will stick with that for now.

So what has changed?

A whole lot less college. Seriously a whole lot less college. In fact for me to write about college I would have to write about student loans (a ball suck of a topic if you ask me) or the stories of people who are still in college or work for the college…neither of which would be nearly as interesting as Puddles and Whiskers talking over a bowl of noodles ant NiHo’s.

A whole lot less bitching about living on a college campus, because we no longer live on campus. 🙂

Lots more games. Free from the intrusive nature of college, we resumed gaming. Slowly at first and with every passing weekend we pick up more speed playing games and resuming the lives of tabletop gamers. Now if we could find more like minded people…

More stories. Lots more stories. I would love to say that I will finish them all, but you and I know that isn’t the truth, some stories just stop and others go on. At least that is my experience. I have a feeling that the primary reason for this is decades of running roleplaying games where due to a variety of reasons games run to their completion (story finished) or games cease (story unfinished).

Pony Party

I have no clue and even less desire to search through the blog to find the first Pony Music Video. I can say that at some point I stumbled across the marriage of music and anime or AMV’s. Then because of my children, at first, I found the marriage of music and My Little Pony. I have no problem saying I enjoy My Little Pony. I have watched the show with my kids and on my own. I have read several graphic novels (I prefer to read collections of comics). And, I have a small collection of My Little Pony statues or Fun Collectables dotting my bookshelves. Oh, yeah and the roleplaying game.  Back when Extravaganza’s were a regular thing so was sharing one or more AMV or PMVs I found.

With this the 1625th Pony Party Post Extravaganza I bring to you a couple new PMVs. I don’t share just any PMVs. I spend some time watching PMVs for a few things, such as editing, amount of work put in, does the images go with the song, and some other intrinsic qualities that make one PMV stick out over another. Such as this one…

I found this one on accident. Hell, I don’t know the song at all, but the combination of song and video worked for me.

Non-Pony Party Post Extravaganza

Like I said way up there, a lot of has changed around here and on here and knowing me a lot more will continue to change…I have been told I am frustrating when it comes to things like this, not that I have a clue what this they are or were talking about at the time and somewhere, not so long ago, I wrote about how plans and I do not go along well, to quote someone about something that may or may not have had anything to do with me, “We are more of a fly by the seat of our pants operation.”

And that is how we, meaning you and I the reader, find ourselves here, watching one last video, not a PMV, but an AMV because our girl loves the song and the video is pretty damn cool.

Last Words Of This Extravaganza

Thank you to readers who have been here since day one when this was the companion blog to Speaking Out on NateSexCollegeandahalfdozenotherchanges (long story written down somewhere I swear) and to all the new readers who stop on by for a story or a story of a game. Hopefully, everyone continues to visit and enjoy the ride.

Last Day of the Year…Thing with Self-Promotion

Ah yes, another end of the year woe is me post on how life has had its ups and downs and how things could have been different if only or this choice had been made instead of that choice or a little bit more luck, a sacrifice to the right deities, I had lived differently or how if I had only been nicer to that cashier that one time who really seemed to be out to cheat me out of my money or how maybe if I had done something, anything, different this might have been a better year, a good year, or just a…

year.

And here we are on the raggedy edge, at least that is how it feels. For the cliff notes of TLDR version:

  • graduated with a Technical Professional Communications degree, it means I write well, communicate well, and can do a whole host of communication things that are hard to define until you need them…
    • Resumes *
    • CVs *
    • Professional Letters, Emails, and other forms of professional communication
    • Publishing, on and offline
    • Layout and Design, of any material (yes any)
    • Edit and Revise messages to make them clearer and impactful
  • did not get any job regardless of how qualified I may or may not have been on paper
  • continued to raise, in my own psychological horror show-Viking-warm and fuzzy like a teddy bear way, two children who continue, despite my best efforts, to demonstrate that they have their own opinions and may, one day, rule this clan via the old ways of trial by combat
  • write
  • created Puddles and Whiskers
  • blog, which is also writing, but in a public way in fact that is the only difference, I guess I could have combined them
  • cooked and grilled, there was a surprise for the year, grilling and how much I enjoyed grilling
  • played games, less games than last year for sure, but played none-the-less
  • floundered around aimlessly as I tried to take the lemons life gave this family and squeeze them into each and every open wound…lemonade only fills the stomach, lemon juice cauterizes open wounds, learn from pain its the Viking way (its a family thing)
  • found a place for us to live and not get, similar to the job thing above, and found us a better place to live where I discovered the joy of grilling, the kids got to play outside for the first time in years, and we as a family are happier even if the future is as uncertain now as it was a year ago…well I can’t graduate again so that part is certain

The long and the short of this year has been, life. I have my complaints. I have my high notes. I have things I would have done differently, not regrets. I have lots of things I could do, but the trials and tribulations of the Richmond Clan are well documented on the 1,000+ posts here and will continue to be documented. After all if I can’t publically talk about our lives how am I going to ensure that at least one psychologist has a job for life to deal with the fallout from my parenting style. 🙂

“And he wrote about…(insert life moment children would rather forget)…I hate him and the sick thing is that I think he wants me to hate him so that I get mad enough to challenge him for leadership of our family.”

-Patient X & her brother Z

* Resume and CV services: Need a resume or CV? Have a resume or CV that needs updating or a new look? Tired of your resume looking like every other resume in the pile? I can assist you. I have the education and experience to take your information and turn that information into a resume or CV you will be excited to give to potential employers.

My first attempt at putting my education and something I enjoy to work (I enjoy assisting people with their resumes and CVs).

 

500 And 1 Words At A Time: The State of Life

For the first time in five years I feel like I have done right by my family. Don’t get me wrong the whole back to college thing was necessary, but for much of it I felt like my family, specifically the kids, were getting the proverbial shaft. Their interests and well being were placed on-hold so that the two adults in the place could get their shit in gear the way they “should have” years/decades ago.

20160915_162649Our kids did not go outside much for five years. There was no front yard. There was no back yard. There was no safe playground. There was no safe place to play period on campus housing. Now, they have a front yard, a side yard, a front front yard, and a small sliver of back yard. Where I used to tell them “no” when they wanted to go outside for fear of some student fucktard hopping the curb and killing them or some non-paying attention campus employee driving a vehicle (VAN) on sidewalks killing them, now I tell them “Have fun.” And I mean it. Other than some rather large sized gopher holes, the yard is far away from traffic. Plus, from any window in the house I can see them, even if they are at one of the far edges.

20160910_174714The kids are happy. The come home with smiles on their faces. Even if school sucked they know when they get home that they have a room that is more than a glorified closet with paint peeling off the walls. They know they can go outside and enjoy life without fear of some fucktard student. Want some proof of happiness, our daughter is teaching our son how to ride a bike out in the yard as I write this. 🙂

The adults are happier. We have a place where only we have the keys to the doors. We have a place that is being improved weekly by us and the realtor. We have a place where we can relax and enjoy life. Barb has a job that she likes and is wrapping up a craft room where she can work on her multitude of crafts without making a mess in another room. She also has a garage, not for the car although I suspect the car will end up in there, but for her wood working. She has not been this happy in at least 5-years.

20160915_075527Me…I am writing for myself. I am wrapping up setting up this house. I am cooking and grilling. I wake up each day with a few more mosquito bites and a beautiful view out the windows. I spend my day taking care of stuff for me and mine. I write in a space designed by me, surrounded by books. Long before I go to bed I spend time outside watching the sun set, a bat hunt, and the clouds roll on through. No, I do not have a job, but I know there is one on the horizon. Life is good.

Brought To You By Tromboner or Is It Ist?

I was preparing to put up more Puddles and Whiskers along with some other fiction when life in all of its hilarity interrupted.

We live on close to 2 acres. I have no clue how 2 acres is different from close to 2 acres, especially when I am out there with a push mower trying to cut the grass. I can say with certainty now that all further lawn mowings will be done in three stages to cut down (ha) on the grief to my body. The very visible front will get cut first. Then the semi-visible, but used more often by all us back-front yard (yes that is what I am calling it). Finally, the rarely seen or used back forty. And did I mention all of the gopher tunnels and holes?

If I have not, consider them mentioned. With some go pro cameras I could start Gopher Mansion. Hopefully people would turn in to watch the gophers do gopher things, such as dig really long tunnels and giant entrances that the lawn mower hates. See hilarity.

Which is how I started my day, finishing mowing the lawn. Thankfully, there was only the back-front yard and back forty to do, a good breeze, and low temperature otherwise I might have ended up like the first day of mowing which was in a lot of pain and trying not to puke my guts up. I really need to learn my limits.

Mowing done, I sat in front of fan watching TV when there was a weak knock at the door. Nobody knocks. Not even the county sheriff who was looking for a former resident. That was funny too. Back to the weak knock. We have woodish floors and I was wearing socks. Slipping and falling (like a baby dear on asphalt) I found my way to the door, where a very exhausted FedEx delivery man stood. He pointed next to the door, where the kids iron bunk bed box leaned against the door. The driver had dragged the huge and very heavy box from his truck at the farthest point of the driveway (why he parked on the street I will never know), up the steps, and to the door. Instead of every other delivery driver and pulling into the driveway and walking to the much closer back door.

And the topper for the day, waiting for my boy to get out of school, I had been told at some point he would be bringing his trombone home. Sure, sure is what I said. Today was that day. Watching him carry a trombone case that is close to his size and weighs more than he would like to carry was hilarious. But not to be out done by…

“Need to practice today?” I ask.

“Yes, some basics and how to assemble it.”

“Assemble it?”

“Yeah, I need to get faster. My fellow tromboner is much faster than I am.”

I have never been so happy to be stuck at a red light so I could laugh my ass off. Tromboner indeed.

Puddles and Whiskers tomorrow.

Musing About Grilling & Life

So where are we?

Well we are here of course.

From the stand point of where are we, as in me and mine…that is another story…

The good and bad news continue to roll in like the tide. Nothing world ending, that we are aware of, but just enough to make for some bumpy surf and set back most of our remaining summer plans. What are you going to do?  We, we try to ride out the bumps and while we ride we do our best to enjoy what we have.

To that end, last night I have three chicken breasts that need to be cooked. However, I was not feeling like cooking after another day of unpacking and screwing around organizing. Going out to eat, an option, but only as a last resort. Given that there was chicken in front of me, not near last option. What to do?

We are enjoying grilling. I am getting pretty good at making cooking fires. Turns out there is a big difference between a fire for cooking and fire for smores. Once I cook the chicken then what? Kids say make chicken sandwiches, great idea except the children have yet to eat a grilled, read non-fried, chicken on anything. Barb has been jonesing for Moo Goo Gai Pan, but that would mean making a mess in the kitchen late a night.

Have I mentioned there is no dishwasher? Not a big deal, except we had one for the last five years, thus the non-dishwashing crowd (everyone other than me) does not see the big deal about making a lot of dishes. I do. While I do not mind washing dishes by hand, another good sideways thinking time for me, I do not have any desire to wash dishes late at night. What to do, what to do?

Grilling the chicken got my mouth watering and the cook inside me fired up (ha). While the chicken cooked it occurred to me that I would only have to prep vegetables for any wokable dish. That right there cut down the number of dishes to something very manageable. Between checking the chicken, Barb and I prepped broccoli, mushrooms, garlic, snow peas, and made the Moo Goo sauce. I have not had an easier or quicker time cooking in a long time. By the time the chicken was finished, I had the wok heated up and ready to go. Five minutes later, dinner.

Living here has been a learning experience, from figuring out how to cool the place off, to how the rain falls into the windows, arranging for garbage pick up (not something we thought about until here), to how to arrange a kitchen for cooking. I have an awesome kitchen set up compared to the last place; still I have to organize everything for ease of use. I only mention this because, it is raining here and the kids, who I asked to let me know if what raining inside, said to me, “we didn’t feel it.” I’m going to guess they were waiting for the puddle to reach them. Ugh.

Finally, to end this rather rambling post, as we get this place organized the table and floor which was home to Rivet Wars for a few days, will be cleaned off of laundry and NAPLEX books for gaming once again. HOORAY!