Balance

Maggie Dammit wrote something yesterday that rang so true to me, it took my breath away. Do you know Maggie? (Her name is not actually Maggie Dammit, but that is how I affectionately think of her because her blog is called Okay, Fine, Dammit!) If you don't, go and read because she does that a lot. Writes breathtakingly, I mean. So, take your inhaler, if you need one, or a paper bag or something.

Yesterday, she wrote this: "... it’s just simply human nature, since the beginning of time, that where there is great sorrow in one place there is always great celebration in another, simultaneously. It’s just the way of the world, it’s just the way we spin."

When I caught my breath, I thought, yes. Exactly. It's possible to be sad for someone, to have your heart be breaking for them, and still feel happy, still revel in a gorgeous fall day and tear up with joy to see your kids play in the sun. It's the way the world spins, as Maggie astutely writes. Even as one of my dearest friends lives through some of her darkest weeks and my daughter's birth country struggles to survive yet another round of devastating floods, there is joy in my life. And celebration. And silliness. And hope. And that's okay.

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A while ago, speaking of hearts and silliness and fun, Sissy at My Kids Might Be Martians gave me this blogging award.

Isn't it darling? It reminds me of elementary school notes and whispers and best friends, in a good way. Thank you, Sissy! You make a girl feel good.

All bloggy awards make me smile. How could they not? It's not like I get a lot of awards in the real world. Neighbors are not stopping by leaving little heart sticky notes taped to my front door. But, this one made me laugh out loud thinking about bloggers that you would not give this award. Well, listen, you wouldn't give it to Black Hockey Jesus now would you. I mean look at it, all cutesy and adorable. It's just a rule that you do not give heart awards to blogs with vagina in the title. Period. Now you know.

Here's one more blog on which I would not bestow the heart award. Motherhood in NYC. It's, if not my very favoritest blog of all time, in the top five. I read it every day. Even if I only have time to read one or two blogs, I read Marinka. She's hilarious, edgy and sharp. She used the word clitori in a sentence. Need I say more? She also calls her spouse Husbandrinka, which never fails to make me laugh out loud.

We email a little (Hi Marinka!) and so (hopefully, I am not violating the bubble when I say this), I know a little bit about her take on blog awards. She loves them. Go and read her and then give her an award. But not the I heart your blog award because I just didn't give her that one. One of these days (perhaps today?) she's going to figure out that I'm keeping up with her wit by the skin of my teeth and then she will probably find another bloggy friend. I hope not, though, because I heart her. Aha! I'm amusing myself today.

I also like typing her name with a link. Marinka, Marinka, Marinka.
I'm done.
Marinka. Really.

I have no illusions that I come across as tough or edgy. I'm not. I cry easily. I hate to be yelled at. It takes me a week to get over it when some parent I don't know and will never see again is mean about my parenting on the playground. I like hearts. And rainbows. And puffy unicorns. And notes. And mint chocolate chip ice cream, and rum, and margaritas. In case you're stopping by. With a little post it note for my front door.

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Another bloggy love affair I have (My ham-eating husband (you're welcome Quart) would not like that statement. He thinks all bloggers are stalkers or scam artists or worse. He particularly dislikes twitter for some reason that I do not care to properly ascertain. Which is not the reason I have not been on twitter lately. The reasons for that are threefold: 1) Ess; 2) Gee; and 3) Cue.) is with Tracey at Just Another Mommy Blog. She tagged me for a meme like a million years ago when dinosaurs roamed the earth creating stored carbon for our later squandering pleasure. It had twenty questions, but as usual, this post is too long and I can't answer twenty questions now because you already barely care what I am typing. I will answer the drink ones. Because drinks are important to me.

Regular or diet soda? If a beverage doesn't contain sugar, caffeine or alcohol, I am not interested in it. Beer or wine? WINE! Red wine or white wine? WINE! Thong v. other undergarments? Wait. How did that one sneak in? WINE!

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I've been watching the six quirky things game round the internet for a while now. I love reading other people's six quirks, but I always thought, eh, I'm not that quirky. I'm kind of normal and boring. Ahem. Then, Jessi asked me to do it. The very same day I read Kate's post at The Big Piece of Cake about things that she regrets doing.

She regrets watching The Ring. I regret reading that post because here is a HUGE WEIRD QUIRKY thing about me. Any thing even slightly horrorish gets into my head and eats my brain. It takes me years to recover from the slightest suggestion of creepy. Unexpected movie previews have reduced me to tears. I don't even like to hear people describe scary movies or books. So, here are six bizarre phobias derived from intimations of horror that have lives of their own in my head.

1) The newest - The Ring. I've never seen this movie and I never will. Several people have described it as the scariest movie they have ever seen. Kate mentioned a black and white girl crawling out of a TV and victims. That's all she said, but that's enough. Last night, I went to bed last and I physically could not turn off the lights downstairs. Matt had to get his ham-eating ass out of bed and do it for me. He's used to my nuttiness, but he still wasn't pleased.

2) Mirrors. I can't look in a mirror by myself in the dark. I've draped them with blankets in the past. This one stems from the move Candyman. Never seen it, but someone once told me that in the movie if you looked into a mirror and said Candyman three times a psycho killer appeared and killed you. With lots of blood. Also, because my brain hates me, apparently, frequently when I look into a mirror, even in the daytime, the word "Candyman" pops into my head. Yes, I am sick.

3) Stairs. Mostly in the dark again. I fear something weird and black slithering up them behind me. This charming image is courtesy of the preview for the movie The Grudge, which I inadvertently saw while watching Real World reruns on MTV. Damn you MTV.

4) Clothes draped over things. This one really pisses me off. I went to a perfectly safe action thriller at the theater and got side-swiped by a trailer for Jeepers Creepers. Wherein teenagers are eaten by some kind of scary scarecrow flesh-eating thing. In the preview, with appropriately horrible music playing, the scarecrow in a field suddenly has horrifically evil eyes. So yeah, thanks to that lovely image, I cannot sleep if there are any stray clothes lying around our room and all of the closet doors must be shut.

5) Basements. I think this is a fairly common phobia. I am okay with our basement in the daytime and if there is anyone else down there. Even the kids negate my fear, which is weird, because really, what the heck are they going to do against some kind of supernatural horror? At night though, if I have to go down there, I am physically incapable of walking back up the steps. I always panic and bolt to the top. Always. I have tried to make myself walk and I CANNOT DO IT. I've always been like this, but my sister is to blame for the worsening of it over the years. She saw the Blair Witch Project. I said I would NEVER see it. She laughed maniacally and said, "just don't look in the corners of your basement." I have chills right now. I know she's laughing.

6) Showering. I can not shower at night unless every light on the floor is turned on and Matt is on the same level of the house as I am. I'm not sure about the root of this fear, but it involves seeing a claw-like hand draw back the shower curtain. I don't know how weird this one actually is because you know, every one has a little shower fear right? I mean, you're all naked and wet and vulnerable. Just say yes. Thanks.

There you have it. Six "quirks" of mine. Alternatively titled, six really messed up views into my extraordinarily bizarre psyche. I'm not sure how I function either. And now it's late and I have the creeps and I'm going to leave every single light on downstairs and go to bed. In the morning, Matt is going to yell at me and tell me that I am wasting energy resources and contributing to global warming and I am going to remind him that he thinks global warming is a fallacy created by Al Gore. Then, he will leave for work muttering about our electric bill.

So, what do you fear? Oh and Happy Non-creepy Wednesday, everyone!