Mrs. Flinger: A work in progress

UPDATE TO Mrs. Flinger October 16, 2015

Because the Universe has a wicked sense of humor, after this delcaration, my blog threw up all over my last upgrade.

So I'm starting over using Craft. Turning 40 and kid entering Jr High next year, sometimes it's just time for a change. These archives will still exist in the way the last child goes off to college and their room is the same for 20 years, but it's just time to move forward.

Things I know Jul 09, 2010


I have a laundry list of random bits I’ve believed because my parents told me so. Sometimes as an adult, I’ll start to say something, stop, and realize I’m uttering complete and total bullshit. Bullshit which I’ve heard a million times from my parents.

I probably need to see a counselor about such matters but instead, I will tell you.

I’ve posted about the day I realized my mother lied to me. We were on the airplane heading back to Houston after a visit to Portland, OR, and she sighed, “Oh, I forgot to replace the toilet paper in our bathroom.” I was about seven and looked up in her face, “Why? Can’t Daddy do it?” “He apparently doesn’t’ know how, sweetie.”

Seven year olds do not get sarcasm.

And so the minute we landed in Houston, pulled up in to our drive way, I ran inside to see if Dad did learn how to put the toilet paper back on. Apparently, he had. I announced how proud I was to him and my mother laughed saying, “I told her you didn’t know how.”

This was the day I learned I was sometimes being fed a complete line of shit.

Since then I’ve managed to accumulate a laundry list of things I believe because I was told. All complete utter shit. For example:

“If you eat burnt chips your cheeks will be rosy the next day.”

“If you eat the crust of your bread, your hair will be curly. Just ask Bama. See how curly her hair is? She always eats her crust.”

“Don’t touch the insects on the can of RAID or they will become real and crawl on you.” *(this one is utterly scarring)


“When you see a car with one head-light you yell, ‘SPADOODLE’ and lick your finger, place it in your palm and stamp it. Then you can make a wish.”

“The toilet water goes the opposite direction in a flush in Australia.” (Seriously, I don’t even know if this is bullshit or not. I HAVE NOT BEEN THERE. Please to clarify for me.)

“If you find a penny that is heads up, put it in your shoe for good luck.”

“Breaking a mirror is seven years of bad luck.”

“If you knock the salt over, toss some over your shoulder.” (I actually witnessed a guy doing that in a restaurant about week ago. Got salt all over the person in the booth behind him. #brilliance

But one I’ve never heard? One I’m only just now learning as an adult? Bird Poop is good luck.

Did you know this? Being shit on my a bird is GOOD LUCK?


I found out after posting on twitter my actual image of said exploitation.


Seriously. And I thought the bullshit ended as a child, people. Either way, I did make a wish. Because I AM THAT GULLIBLE. And also in desperate need of wishes.

What else am I missing? Any other random bits of facts you live by without actual cause? Or is it just me. (Tell me it’s not just me)

The Village Jul 05, 2010

Growing up, I remember the Fourth of July in Houston probably in the same way you would any other city. We had a BBQ with our neighbors. Us kids would ride our hot-wheels while the parents drank sweet tea and chatted. There would be some music piping from the window of my parent’s house and inevitably someone would start dancing in rhythmic gyrations resembling a dying catfish. These are what memories I hold and expectations I have of our Country’s birth.

The fourth is very similar to me now as an adult. This time, though, I am the one drinking the sweet tea. (Or hard cider. Come to think of it, I don’t actually know what my parents were really drinking. Sweet Tea may have meant “vodka and tea” but I’m not sure.) We have the same small town parade crowding our tiny main street. We have the same neighborhood BBQs and the same fireworks and the children riding their bikes in the street 28 years later. I live in a city nearly 2,500 miles away and nearly 25 years have passed since my small-town fourth experience in Texas, but it’s so familiar I can feel the Houston humidity and hear the trumpets blaring out of my dad’s stereo.

Tradition is, by definition, familiar.

The people I shared this fourth with remind me of my parent’s friends all those many years ago. It’s a different vantage point I have now, but the concept is the same. The saying is “it takes a village” and to me, I am honored to have women in my village whom I not only count on, but who make me stronger as a woman myself. They provide tradition, familiarity, comfort, and compassion. It is with this village we celebrated yesterday in a place I call my home. However much I sometimes wish to flee, it is comforting to have such an amazing support system here which grounds my wings as often as it provides opportunity for flight.

Wordless Friday? Jul 02, 2010

Thought I would start a regular wordless Friday (yeah I know it’s supposed to be “Wordless Wednesday”...that’s just so conformist).


Being a human is a messy business Jul 02, 2010

#Travel#Life#Parenting Siblings

I remember telling my old boss, years ago, my plan for vacation. “Well,” I started, “I think we’ll be getting in the car and taking a right on the freeway. After that? I have no idea.” He was surprised at this. “No lists? No plans? YOU?” I was just as shocked that he’d expect me to actually plan until I realized I’ve nicely compartmentalized my life in such a way I can live in two extremes: The To Do List and The Not.

Now I worry less that I’m some sort of bi-polar schizophrenic and more of a well-balanced human being. To be successful at work and organized enough to accomplish the tasks at hand, I’m willing to place my items in neat little boxes. Tiny little boxes all sitting in a row. But at home, in my own space, in my own self, I refuse. I want passion, adventure, and not a single task on my todo list to mark off.

Less dichotomy, more necessity.

Perhaps this is the juncture I sit at now. Life with children and a mortgage and after-school gatherings are prone to lists, todo items, organization. I’ve been failing for five years to be the “organized” mom. To actually get a child to school on time. To pay a bill. To remember every field trip and every sheet of home-work.

I’m less likely to condemn myself for that right now.

I’m understanding that I, in fact, have always been this person in my own life. Now, though, it effects other people. Tiny little people. And while it is too late for me to pretend that I’m capable of being all things for them, I am trying to find the balance of knowing I can be enough, just as I am. All messed up, driven to passion, crazed for adventure, and always late for everything. One day, I hope they understand.

*Related post from May 2009: The Acorn and Me.