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Friday, December 08, 2006

Voices Dance In My Head

What a crazy week it has been. Actually, maybe the craziness started last week and has trickled over onto this week. Could it be life has always been crazy and now I’ve reached a point in my life where it actually affects me? There’s something to ponder over a bowl of oatmeal.

It’s still really cold here. The windchill is -12, which is ridiculous. Snow remains piled by the feet at the new Lane Estate. There is a pathway, which is really all that matters, unless… you need to move in your refrigerator… I’ll get back to that in just a jiffy. First things first, my contest has an undetermined winner.

There is a toss up between Chris who said, “I know that wherever the Lane family gathers, hilarity, homeless people, stray/hurt/lost/half-dead animals, and cat tricks ala Chip (if he hasn't run away again), will ensue. I know that Lois Lane is funny, but also has a heart of gold, and a yearn for a sister whose life ended much too soon. The Lo-rider 2000 exercise bike is my all time favorite post. The mental image of Mr. Lane sleeping then waking to find you pedaling away with your helmet, horn and purple handelbar streamers will forever be implanted in my brain. I laughed so damn hard, my stomach hurt. I also know that, for a while, most of your post titles were parts or names of songs. The infamous jump rope routine at Parent's Night in the 80's to a Prince song, picked by your sister Angie, made you a word nerd, and almost got you suspended from school. That is my top 5. Happy Blogaversay Lo honey.”

And Lynn who said, “The Top Ten things that make Lois an interesting blogger: #10: Last Christmas Lois gave cyber-gifts to her friends who live in her computer. This would make a great children's book, Lois. Title suggestions, anyone? #9: Lois ate a turkey testicle. #8: Lois knows that certain types of graffiti on the shower walls is a fun way to trick the kids and the hubby into cleaning the shower. #7: Lois is smart. She entertains the neighborhood children with weed-pulling contests. The winner gets five bucks. Why didn't I think of that? #6: Lois's mom has been known to curse like a sailor and make up perverted cooking terms. She even makes great coffee. I'm glad Lois had the sense to hire her back. Hey, Lo - tell your mom I'm up for adoption! #5: Only Lois is clever enough to use a box of pretend ashes to get out of sex. #4: Lois is a freak, owww - because Mr. Lane suffers from Kiss This Guy Syndrome. She takes it in stride, though, even when confronted with a Baldheaded Woman. Lois is very patient. She is surrounded by this syndrome, but manages to keep her cool even when they've Paved Paradise and put up a Fucking Light. #3: Lois has a woodchipper and she ain't afraid to use it. Stupid neighbors should consider themselves warned. #2: Lois would never embarrass her kids by blogging about the difference between dingleberries and full grown poop balls. Nope. This is just not something she would do. And the number one thing that makes Lois an interesting blogger --*drumroll*....... #1: Lois was a pot-bellied construction worker in 1994 while Mr. Lane dressed in drag!! Here it is twelve years later and they're still together. Who says role reversals can't work?? Happy Blog-Birthday, Lois! Consider yourself roasted.”

Roasted indeed. So what do you guys think? Is Chris our winner, or is it Lynn? Maybe it’s a tie. You decide. Once the votes are tallied, I’ll announced the winner and gift, which amazingly enough, has been determined.

Ah, craziness… my in-laws moved from California to Missouri last week. Mr. Lane flew out to Cali a couple of weeks ago to help them pack and drive the moving van. It was planned that the kids and I would drive to Missouri, seven hours away, to meet them there and help unload the truck. We intended to leave Friday. If you have seen the weather in the Midwest or have read my blog, you’ll note that where we live received 18 inches of snow Friday.

Bud Buckley left a comment for me recently that stuck in my head. He said, “Jeezus! You really have to learn to say "No, I'm too fucking stressed out and busy." You heap more crap on yourself. I'm worried about you.”

I never really paid much attention to what causes me to feel stressed, but Bud is right. I pile shit on myself all the time, and it’s likely the cause of my stress. As me and six wonderful helpers shoveled my driveway to unbury my car for the trip, I thought about Bud’s words. After shoveling for hours, I really didn’t want to leave Friday night. I decided we would head out first thing in the morning.

The next morning, while packing the car, I slipped on the ice. I could clearly see our road hadn’t been plowed but hoped for the best and headed out. As my car slid, I could practically hear Bud’s voice.

I inched my way to the highway, surely that would have been plowed, right? Wrong. Going 30 miles per hour, we got about three hours away from home. Every time there was a close call, I thought of Bud. White-knuckled I drove on until four vehicles, two semi-trucks, and two cars in front of me, all spun off into the ditch. I took the nearest exit as I heard Bud again. I almost said aloud to him, “Okay Jiminy Fucking Cricket, I hear ya!”

Maybe having voices inside of your head isn’t really a bad thing. At the oasis I called Mr. Lane. He was very upset. If the kids and I weren’t coming, that meant he and his father were unloading all alone. I felt terrible and my mouth almost said, “Okay, I’ll inch my way and see you there.” But Bud channeled right through me and said, “Sorry dude, the fucking roads suck. What do you want me to do, die getting there?”

Mr. Lane said, “Calm down, babe. If it’s really that bad, and you are really that scared, don’t drive. You can just drive back home or get a hotel and drive either to Missouri or back home tomorrow. No move is worth yours and the kids’ lives… Pansy.”

“No you didn’t just call me a pansy.”

“I’m kidding. We can scrounge up some neighbor kids and pay them to help.”

I felt relieved. I knew I still had to inch my way back home but the sense of relief was amazing.

A few days later my old man arrived back home safe and sound. Oh yeah, he had the moving van. To make me feel even worse, my in-laws sent him back with all sorts of stuff for our new house, including a sofa, loveseat, a dining room set, 2 dressers, 4 end tables, a coffee table, two recliners, a bed, a desk, boxes upon boxes of knick-knacks and kitchen items, and a refrigerator. Man, Catholic guilt is a nasty little thing. I looked all over for Bud, but he was no where to be heard. Clearly he was to blame for this feeling, right?

Now our house is packed and looks like real live people live here… no thanks to Bud. Hahahaha! Have a great weekend everyone! And don’t forget to vote for the winner of the contest.