I was almost euphoric for over a week. I had a great birthday party with the girls, a great weekend and LB party, I was caught up at work and feelin’ grand.

Until tonight.

Look, young f&ckers, when the porch light is turned off, when the house lights are not on, when there is a sign saying, “DO NOT RING THE DOORBELL,” and when it’s 9:45pm, I don’t care if it’s Halloween, DO NOT RING THE DOORBELL.

You woke up the baby. And now, you have to suffer.

Do you ever leave a party and think, “What the HELL did I just spend two hours saying?” I do. A lot. Well, that is, if I went to more parties…

Sorry, no new post on mrs. flinger. I just spent entirely too long working on this and can’t stop watching it.

I swear to get all witty and philosophical soon. maybe. Ok, don’t expect much but I shall return.

So, lemme ask you, did your cycle totally change after you had kid #1? ‘Cause I used to never have a clue when I was ovulating. Not a clue. Now, I can tell exactly when, and which, ovary is spittin’ out potential junior number 2.

So, Paige, Nicole and I had a talk about calling your friends “bitches”. We talked about how weird it is at first, like calling something good “Phat” with a “P H”. Fat. Personally, I grew up thinking fat was not nice and I just never got in to calling things phat.

Then there’s ho-bag. Yea, at first, being called ho-bag seemed a little weird. Until I realized it was a term of endearment and bygeorge, Anne can call me ho-bag to her heart’s content. It makes me smile. I luff it.

Then there’s the thong. I think of those things on your feet, you know, the sandals with just the toe separator there? Those are THONGS. I realize the underwear with the same separator is named the same thing. It’s just a different place being separated. But words do migrate, don’t they?

So what about it, bitches? Do you hate being called bitch? I know it is weird at first, but really, I mean it in all love. And feel free to call me your bitch back. I’d be honored.

So, I finally (cheering in the back) got up the pics from this weekend. See, I had 245 pictures to go through and take out all the cracks (mine), blurry photos (taken drunk) and/or dark blackout photos.  You asked for it, so by popular demand, I give you

Mrs. Flinger and her Drunk Friends’ Weekend Night Out

So, one of my best friends is an amazing traveling woman. She is the free spirit I know inside of my heart. She’s the one who helped get me back in touch with the 1997 me. The free spirit of my “youth”. We both love alternative rock like The Shins, and “The Mountain Radio”. She’s my vicarious living friend. I do things from reading about her adventures in Thiland, Europe, the Big Island. She surfs, kayaks, hikes, plays kickball, works with people who have disabilities , and is the most giving person you will ever ever know. She pretty much rocks. Oh, and did I mention she’s done two triathlons? Yea. She’s the reason Paige and I wanted to do it at all. ‘Cause she’s just that motivating.

Anyway, before she left yesterday, we had a great chat about culture and religion and all those deep topics you’d sit and share with a BFFIRL. I believe this is the source of my peace right now. I believe it’s the reason I remember that living is perspective and I am alive because I enjoy living. I believe it got me back in touch with my inner me. What kind of conversation could do that?

Have you ever sat down and really analyzed your life? I mean, reflected deeply on it. I think we all do this to a small extent via blogging. I think it’s why we blog . We sit, think, and reflect on today’s events. I think we’re all seeking for ourselves. I think, and I believe this with my whole soul, that blogging has helped provide me with a tool to of awareness. And awareness is key, people.

I love philosophy. I used to go to groups to talk about life in general. I’d sit and write in my journal for hours and think about the Big Issues. Lately, the Big Issues revolve around if the kid slept, if she’s eaten, how to keep the house clean when people are coming over, etc. I don’t spend very much time actually thinking about Life. In passing, I may reflect for a bit, but I don’t really get down and dirty with my own humanity. Lately, if I’m getting down and dirty it usually entails cleaning up the turd off the carpet in the living room because my toddler got loose for 45 seconds without a diaper. That, my friends, is adventure in my sheltered life.

I live a sheltered life. I do. I live in a smallish town and work in a smaller college. I have never been to New York. I travel to places where they speak english (or Texan). I watch the same movies, I listen to the same music and I travel in my car to and from work. I am blessed, do not get me wrong. I am very very blessed in so many ways I can not even pick one to tell you how thankful I am for them. My life is a good one. It’s just.. small.

I always thought I’d do big things. I thought I’d move to Alaska and live in the wild and be Maggie from Northern Exposure. I know it was naive of me to think life is like a TV show. I know I get depressed in the Winter without sun and six months of darkness would not suit me at all. But still, I thought I’d be the paddle person*, not read about it from someone else.

But, it’s after our visit that I realized that maybe my life is adventurous in it’s own way. I mean, maybe raising a child and cleaning the house can be just as fulfilling as traveling the Atlantic or kayaking the San Juan Islands. Thing is, it has to be. ‘Cause that’s where I am at and the key to happiness is to live right now. The key to happiness is awareness. The key to living life is knowing you are living it.

*  “I made you, paddle person, because I had a dream - 
  a little wooden man smiled at me. He sat in a canoe
  on a snowbank on this hill.
  Now the dream has begun to come true - the sun spirit
  will look down on the snow, and the snow will melt,
  and the water will run downhill to the river, on down
  to the great lakes, down again, on at last to the sea.
  You will go on with the water, and you will have
  adventures that I would like to have…”

  - ‘Paddle-to-the-Sea,’ Holling C. Holling

I wrote a lovely post for y’all. Oh, but I wrote it over here.

And no, I’m not STILL drunk.. just trying to get all my pics from the weekend up so y’all can have visuals. (Thanks, Liesl. heh.)

XOXO,
Mrs. Flinger

Where is Mrs. Flinger? Out with her BFFIRL, her MBFFIRL and several other members of the flinging fans to celebrate thirty years of livin’ among the peeps.

That’s right. We’re out drinking and partying in the streets of Portland. So watch out, clear the sidewalks, and I’ll catch ya on the flip side.

Peace out! XOXO

I don’t think we’re moving. I’m fairly sure we’ll take our house off the market within the week. I’m sad. However, at the same time, this gives me a bigger hope. Maybe, just maybe, we can move someplace even better. Even further. Even.. MORE.