"Be-GOCK!!!"

Yes, it's official I'm still a huge chicken. My hilarious friend Trish uberkindly described the experience I'm referring to here.  

I thought for sure by this time in life I would be just a touch more brave about getting up in front of a crowd, but apparently I'm still just as insecure as ever.  The strange thing about it is that I like singing, and I like performing on stage as well-but not as myself.  Without some sort of disguise or costume, my body betrays me and tries to go into shut down mode at the mere thought of being seen!  The liquid once kept in my mouth instantly moves to my armpits, forcing my lips to move dramatically around my teeth like a horse with peanut butter. The blood that when in my head helps me remember lyrics and practiced cues, just as suddenly migrates to my extremities, leaving my head vacuously circling while my legs get ready to run or buckle beneath me.

It's the familiar scene of the classic performance anxiety from which I suffer.  But, the real problem is that this anxiety is not restricted to the stage.  I can get performance anxiety just knowing I have a really busy day or week ahead of me.   I don't have that little buck -up gene that huddles together with the others and says "Look gang, I've got just the go juice this project needs!  Sit back and enjoy the gun show while I fire this baby up!"  And then of course, he would make engine revving sounds with his tiny little plasma mouth and kick me into high gear. 

Nope, I don't have one of those.  Or maybe I'm just missing one because genes prefer to work in pairs and my little tough guy gene is missing his Harley counterpart.  

In any case............. CURSE YOU JR. HIGH!! 

(I don't know if this is the real culprit or not but I like to yell that sometimes when I'm feeling particularly scarred about something.  It's nice to have a scapegoat at the ready- after all.) 

I just wish I could figure out how to get past this self induced handicap.  I mean, come on!  Can't I just learn to tap into Big Shan when I need her instead of having her pop up whenever the diva so chooses?  If only.  You can't control a diva's schedule you know.  Don't waste your time trying.  

She's busy accosting young mothers and imposing her baby holding services on them. Or, she might even surface upon meeting a new church member at the store and on each and every aisle, quiz the woman wildly about her family life, while in turn sharing equally about her own.  OY VEY!  At one point in the middle of my chattiness on that particular day, I recall even telling this nice victim lady how shy I was.  Then, because B.Shan is always on her toes, I realized suddenly how absurd that must have seemed to my new friend, so we shared a little laugh over that one. (titter titter titter)

Oh well.  We all have our own hang ups don't we?  Why do mine seem to be more like hang outs?  Some day it would really be nice to board the bus to sanity and actually not get off until I get there.  Until then, I suppose it's back to my Relacore study and being an inappropriate freakazoid when I least expect it. Such is life-cluck, cluck- such is life.  

A late because I'm Shan(and Shan can) picture gallery from Halloween

This was supposed to be footage of the army dude getting his game face on for candy collecting but his little brother refuses to share the spotlight so we have this.  It is a rare moment in the day when either of my children aren't speaking.  It's usually all or nothing (nothing being sleep) for them both.  I realize, of course, I'm just getting my due.  My mom didn't call me Chatty Kathy just for fun back in the formative days.  Here's a little sample of how it is at my house: 

The actual trick-or-treating went much the same way for Dandy.  It was like a mosh pit of emotions for the little boy who didn't like not knowing how the whole evening was going to go.  Of course, any night where collecting candy is the main activity; it's usually gonna turn out pretty decent for a chappy with a sweet tooth.  

For Ratchet, it's really all about the costume and embodying the complete character.  He's out to convince the general public on Halloween that whatever he happens to be wearing is actually his full time job in the real world.  

And then there was the less convincing performance....

But seriously, who wouldn't root for this guy on the field? 

Here's one last shot of my little pumpkins begging for candy at their grandparents house.  We figured they were a sure thing when it came to MRE's and Gatorade.

And once the young had their cavity collecting done and the street grime and makeup washed away, we sent them off to dream of ghouls and goblins so that we could snack and laugh it up with friends.  OOH OOH AHH AHH!!!  Ah yeah, who's the goblin now?

 Apparently it was me, because even though I wasn't in costume, I had the Big Shan face out and was parading it around!  At least that's what my photos seem to project.  

Here's me meeting Sarah Palin in my own kitchen as she made her final campaigning rounds.  She really seemed quite smart and up on the issues when I met her. I was just pleased as punch to meet her.

After a while, and one costume change into a more comfy outfit, I realized Sarah P. had been my friend Trish all along!  She went the "trick" angle for sure-GAH!! 

She was ready for the press to leave her alone in this next picture, but I'd have nothing of the sort.  I don't have people over often and you are probably starting to see why.

I made my famous (though hideously fattening and even more hideous sounding) dried beef dip as one of my snickies. And Matt wasn't sure what he ate before discovering this mayonaise and sour cream heart clogging wonder.  Teehee- I KNOW MATT! I KNOW!

And finally here's a creepily lit picture of the master of the house, D.J. Jazzy Jamey.  He made the perfect musical compilation for our tiny Halloween mixer because that's his thang dawg!  Now, don't you cross him!  

Speaking of...the dude is waiting patiently in the other room for me to wrap this picture laden post on up!  And now, I'm all exclamation pointy about it, so I'd better scoot!!!  Take it easy YO!  

Tardy school thoughts: My yearly battle

It's time.  It's time for Wall Walker and Orange Fang to file into school whether I like it or not.  Why do I send them when it clearly causes me such pain?  I can't seem to accept that life must go on and it is normal for children to go to school and leave their mother for seven hours every day.  I am such a homeschooler at heart, yet I can't get my brain to board the same line of thinking that my heart is on.

  

My mind tells me our school system is fine, safe, and plugs away day after day giving our kids the information that they'll need to keep up with their peers.  It also tells me that I COULD teach them myself, but I would probably end up boring them to tears and cause them to resent me for wanting to be a larger part of their daily lives than their friends.  Also I suspect I might not be as patient as I would like to be.  Sometimes I can't handle more than one chirpy noise in my ears at a time. I know I shouldn't even admit that.  But on those days I wonder if I could act like chirpy noises are just that, and not tiny woodpeckers rhythmically  jabbing new contours into the sides of my head, so that I could patiently go on with our lessons.

  

I also think that I suffer from A.D.D. and couldn't possibly focus long enough to see anything through to its finality.  That is not an option in home schooling because teaching children is not a hobby that I could walk away from in search of a new shiny object to catch my fickle eyes.  It's a way of life.  I would need to take to it with steady diligence and know when to allow myself  a break and when to knuckle down and kick in the afterburners to follow through on a challenging task. 

 

But my heart.  Oh, my heart!  I have grandiose plans in my head of thrilling the freckles right off my boys faces with exploratory trips to museums and historical sites after having thoroughly studied a subject and  noted their favorite parts.  I can see my blissful self sitting in a field on a blanket, book in hand, while my equally delighted offspring run about exploring the ecosystem to their hearts content.  "MA!" They would exclaim, because suddenly we're living an episode of  'Little House on the Prairie',  "We found a horney toad!"  Then of course I wouldn't run away screaming and flapping my arms, because it's my special vision of the kind of natural learning that I am all about.  Shhhhh...Let me have my moment naysayers!

But that is my problem.  I'm a little all or nothing at times.  I'm pure fun and quick thinking somedays , but I'm sludgeheaded, highly distractible and easily frightened on others.  Just now in fact I forgot where I was going with this whole thing because I stopped to eat a few corn chips.  Pitiful Shans, truly pitiful; but tasty, truly tasty.

{Reflective sigh} And so off they go, first thing in the morning, to sit and (try to) listen to some lady who looks nothing like their mother, but who can probably form complete thoughts in a roomful of activity.  I still don't like it.  They are mine, and much too young to be one of 25 tossed into old cramped rooms filled with hand sanitizer and glue sticks.  What will they possibly do with all of those dadblappity glue sticks anyway? I'm sure it would never match the corn husk crafts and prairie visions swirling around in the perfect school in my mind.  Ah well.  I guess it's time to go get myself a job or do one of those 14 other things I've been thinking about. 

Reality really bites you in the haunch sometimes doesn't it?  YOWZA!

  

Shan to temporarily leave land

Hear ye!  Hear ye!  I am scheduled to be removed from my computer mid-Sunday and it is highly likely I may not return until the following Sunday!  I realize this is really only one week but for my own sake I am making it much much bigger and am pretending that I'm going off on a wild "unplugged" adventure into the GREAT WILDERNESS of no internet.  

What is this place of which you speak young(ish) blogger?  It is my homeland.  The place where I took my most tender first steps. Where I went from adorable big eyed baby to chunky frog faced version of Laura Ingals Wilder.  It's the world that shapeshifted me right into the promising semi-attractive at this point high school graduate who almost didn't want to leave her sweet  setup as a warranty (coffee) clerk at a lawnmower distributing warehouse to experience the next four ("Try six."  Someone dryly mocks.) years of college. 

Oh.  Why didn't you just say Oklahoma City?  Well because, dull warranty clerk who never even uses her OWN lawnmower, some of us have higher aspirations of communication than you and all the other voices trying to make their way into this entry.  SOME of us have a that little flare for drama and entertainment.  And even though that particular section of The Shan has been known to bust into an impromtu song and dance number, there are even subtler versions of this performer that prefer to turn simple statements into vast sinkholes of run-on sentences and wordy descriptives.

But now we've all forgotten the point of this post and we are all growing weary watching you fi-lap-ball-change your way down the page.  YOU CAN'T RUSH AN ARTIST!  Ok, did she just call herself an artist because now this is re-heely getting out of hand.  Maybe she meant to say Narcissist and her "artistry" got in the way.  Yes, I agree with you.  

OK HOW MANY OF US ARE IN HERE?!  Can I please continue? Yip.  Yes. Whatever.  Go on Diva.  THANK YOU.  Now, where was I....Oh yes, I must leave my post dear bloggers!  I er, uh, We shall use this time to carefully examine life outside the electronic world and boldly go where pages physically turn while the young offspring frolic around in the great outdoors and all of our meals are provided .. I'm sorry, I've got to cut in here.  WHAT IS IT? 

 Well, really it's all the waxing on about magical pages turning and food being delivered to you.  And,  really?  No electronics?  Last I checked Ginger and Gido had a huge cable box wired to all of the gigantic televisions in the house. AND yes, you will read but don't you already kind of do that now.  YEAH, and that part about the meals.

 I heard us tell Mom we would help with dinner and stuff so that's not really gonna fly with...ALRIGHT ENOUGH ALREADY!!!!  For such curt  and to the point stodgy voices, you guys are all writing yourselves all the way onto my short list of most agitating contributers to a blog post to date!  Then stop with all of the exaggerations.  That's right I mean we're going out of town.  The kids get to go to camp and we get to shop around and stuff.  Big whoop.  Yeah, big whoop.  

But it's so much greater than that in my head.  Well, not to all of us.  She is somewhat right.  It WILL be nice to get away and spend some quality time with the family.  Don't burst her bubble to much on that one.  Ok, true, but she is just so irritating and is always so capital letter loud.  I AM STILL HERE!! 

 Ok, just let me finish. The bottom line is guys  we're not "us" without the wordy noisy  one are we?  Nah. No. Guess not.  She's the punk to our sparkler of many colors.  True. 

 Ahhhh!  THANKS everyone!  You know that really means something to me.  Why just the other day I was twittering about in our..SOMEONE take her down!  Please just sign off already.  OH, ok.  BYE BLOGGING FRIENDS!!  I won't be reading!  Or commenting!  I'll see you guys when I [click-publishing post activated]

I'm too boring for this blog

Well now isn't that a little bit funny.  I just wrote the title of this blog and then accidentally posted it.  I was so boring and unsexy to my own blog, it thought I would be better suited to just post a title than to attempt to drag you guys into my incredibly dull hole with me.  

Cute, publish button.  Verry cute.  But it doesn't keep me from droning on, for I am a nagging infection of boredom who ever so briefly just considered blogging about the small dog-sized hair ball I just swept up from all the hard surfaces of my house.  I think my chihuahua is always tricked into thinking we've gotten a third beast when this happens because she immediately rushes over to my sweepings each time and sniffs out the pile like she's smelling the rump of a new and interesting visitor.  Oops, I guess I did  just blog about sweeping my floor didn't I? Nice one Shans.

I think this week I'm feeling a little melancholy about my home alone situation (hands on cheeks and open mouthed McCauley Culkin style).  It's no doubt the effect of the extroverted me being at home without constant people interaction and reaction. I am sulking in the fact that Trisha just started her job, that Becky is doing freelance(again with the money making-harumph) and Shelley is just up up and moving away.  Boo-hoo and double HISS! Where is that shy little book lovin' introverted shan when you need her anyway.  She'd be good company if she wasn't always wanting "alone time".  Aargh.

 Many days I do happily skip about the house by myself, easily being amused by a particular drawer of clothing or a purposefully "silly walk" I've adopted for funsies.  I listen to my i-pod or  read your blogs and talk on the phone a little to get all my people fixes likity-split!  And "where on earth did the day go?" I nervously giggle realizing I am in fact still in my sleepwear at 1:00pm having been lost in a brain wander half the day.

But sometimes this self containment just doesn't cut it and I feel...well,  plain ol' dull; a Dully Lama of my own not-worth-the-press country.  At least in that case I might have people to oversee that have potential to do something interesting.  

No, it's not that at all.  In this case I think it's me not finding ANYTHING interesting anymore.  I was looking at my t.v. last night wondering why I bother with all those extra accidentally free cable channels.  I don't want to see Tila Tequila choosing which of her suiters she'll date by having contests to see which one can be the MOST disgusting in EVERY way.  

I don't want to watch a big batch of model clones dance around with numbered suitcases in the attempt to make a choosing numbered suitcases game interesting.  I don't even want to watch nervous cooks running around bumping into each other as an ANGRY chef from H-E-double hockey sticks Kitchen yells at them until THEY catch fire from all the pitchfork dodging they are doing around a hot grill.

 With entertainment like this who needs depression? For reals now people COME ON!

I know that this is just my temporary dysphoria speaking.  And come next Thursday, I'll be back at that glowing screen watching 'So you think you can dance dance dance?' in surgical focus with the rest of America.  I'm just busying myself this week living out the quote  "If you're bored it's only because you're a boring person"  to the fullest.  SO BE IT!!  And you can suffer it too dear Shanslookers! 

 Oh my.  I've gone and taken it out on you now haven't I?  Sorry dear friends :)  Do come back won't you?  I promise not to say anything too scandalously raw because frankly,  I'm not interesting enough to do so.  Now, I must be off to pet I mean put my trash out.  XOXO's to you and one raspberry for me.  Plllllpt!