Book Report - The Maze Runner

Title: The Maze Runner
Authour: James Dashner
Length: 374 pages
How long it took me to read: 3 days
Grade: C+

What it's about: "If you ain't scared, you ain't human."
When Thomas wakes up in the lift, the only thing he can remember is his name. He's surrounded by strangers--boys whose memories are also gone.

Outside the towering stone walls that surround the Glade is a limitless, ever-changing maze. It's the only way out--and no one's ever made it through alive.

Then a girl arrives. The first girl ever. And the message she delivers is terrifying.

The ending is the most important part: The ending was good, but this book was frustrating to read, so the ending was not satisfying.

Last word: This book is like The Lord of the Flies except with less violence, and a maze. It is very confusing, and the author does not give anything up. The reader is as confused as the characters. I didn't like this. I am unsure as to whether or not I will continue with the series.

Spoilers after the jump

Book Report - The Giver

Title: The Giver
Authour: Lois Lowry
Length: 179 pages
How long it took me to read: 3 days
Grade: C

What it's about: Jonas' world is perfect. Everything is under control. There is no war or fear or pain. There are no choices. Every person is assigned a role in the Community. When Jonas turns twelve, he is singled out to receive special training from The Giver. The Giver alone holds the memories of the true pain and pleasure of life. Now, it is time for Jonas to receive the truth. There is no turning back.

The ending is the most important part: While the ending was satisfying, I am not invested enough in the characters to continue reading the series.

Last word: I was so meh on this book.

Spoilers after the jump

Book Report - The Princess Bride

Title: The Princess Bride
Authour: S. Morgenstern/William Goldman
Length: 398 pages
How long it took me to read: 1 month, 1 week

What it's about: What happens when the most beautiful girl in the world marries the handsomest prince of all time and he turns out to be...well...a lot less than the man of her dreams?
As a boy, William Goldman claims, he loved to hear his father read the S. Morgenstern classic, The Princess Bride. But as a grown-up he discovered that the boring parts were left out of good old Dad's recitation, and only the "good parts" reached his ears.

Now Goldman does Dad one better. He's reconstructed the "Good Parts Version" to delight wise kids and wide-eyed grownups everywhere.

What's it about? Fencing. Fighting. True Love. Strong Hate. Harsh Revenge. A Few Giants. Lots of Bad Men. Lots of Good Men. Five or Six Beautiful Women. Beasties Monstrous and Gentle. Some Swell Escapes and Captures. Death, Lies, Truth, Miracles, and a Little Sex.

In short, it's about everything.

The ending is the most important part: I liked the end of the movie, the ending of the book was less than that.

Last word:  UGH. I love this movie, why was it so hard for me to read this book? The best parts were the back story parts of Fezzik and Inigo. I think this would be more enjoyable if you (unlike me) didn't have this movie memorized.

Spoilers after the jump

Book Report - Mary Poppins

Title: Mary Poppins
Authour: P.L. Travers
Length: 224 pages
How long it took me to read: 2 weeks

What it's about: It all starts when Mary Poppins is blown by the east wind onto the doorstep of the Banks house. She becomes a most unusual nanny to Jane, Michael, and the twins. Who else but Mary Poppins can slide upbanisters, pull an entire armchair out of an empty carpetbag, and make a dose of medicine taste like delicious lime-juice cordial? A day with Mary Poppins is a day of magic and make-believe come to life!

The ending is the most important part: The ending was just that, the end of a series of stories. I didn't get very much satisfaction out of the end of this book.

Last word:  There is fun in this book, and it would be a lovely read for someone who is not already familiar with Mary Poppins.

Spoilers after the jump

Book Report - Insurgent

Title: Insurgent
Authour: Veronica Roth
Length: 525 pages
How long it took me to read: 4 days

What it's about: Tris has survived a brutal attack on her former home and family. But she has paid a terrible price. Wracked by grief and guilt, she becomes ever more reckless as she struggles to accept her new future.

Yet if Tris wants to uncover the truth about her world, she must be stronger than ever… because more shocking choices and sacrifices lie ahead.

The ending is the most important part: The ending was just what it needed to be; a cliffhanger.

Last word:  I spent a good portion being mad at either Tris or Tobias as they acted really stupid in this book. Really interested to find out how this series ends.

Spoilers after the jump

Book Report - Anna and the French Kiss

Title: Anna and the French Kiss
Authour: Stephanie Perkins
Length: 372 pages
How long it took me to read: 3 days

What it's about: Anna is looking forward to her senior year in Atlanta, where she has a great job, a loyal best friend, and a crush on the verge of becoming more. Which is why she is less than thrilled about being shipped off to boarding school in Paris--until she meets Étienne St. Clair. Smart, charming,beautiful, Étienne has it all...including a serious girlfriend.

But in the City of Light, wishes have a way of coming true. Will a year of romantic near-misses end with their long-awaited French kiss?

The ending is the most important part: The ending was a little too neat and tidy for my taste.

Last word:  This is a YA book written for YA audiences, and YA readers will really like this book. I am a little too old for this one. The story is cute and nice, though. I still recommend it.

Spoilers after the jump

Book Report - The Virgin Suicides

Title: The Virgin Suicided
Authour: Jeffrey Eugenides
Length: 249 pages
How long it took me to read: A week and a half

What it's about: The haunting, humorous and tender story of the brief lives of the five entrancing Lisbon sisters, The Virgin Suicides, now a major film, is Jeffrey Eugenides' classic debut novel.

The shocking thing about the girls was how nearly normal they seemed when their mother let them out for the one and only date of their lives. Twenty years on, their enigmatic personalities are embalmed in the memories of the boys who worshipped them and who now recall their shared adolescence: the brassiere draped over a crucifix belonging to the promiscuous Lux; the sisters' breathtaking appearance on the night of the dance; and the sultry, sleepy street across which they watched a family disintegrate and fragile lives disappear

The ending is the most important part: The best thing about this book was that there was an ending.

Last word:  This was really hard to read, however poetic, and I don't recommend this book.

Spoilers after the jump

The Irony of Growing Up

When I was a kid, I could not wait to be a grown up. I wanted to be on my own; to be able to have my own place, make my own decisions, dress how I wanna dress, eat what I wanna eat, watch what I wanna watch, etc. I wanted to wear grown-up clothes, have grown-up hair, and wear grown-up make-up. I wanted to be able to see any movie I wanted, to listen to any music I wanted to, to be able to go out dancing - even on a school night, and go to clubs to listen to bands. I wanted to have my own car. I wanted to live the Mary Tyler Moore life.

The older I got, the less self-esteem I had, and I felt uncomfortable wearing some of the fun things that the other girls were wearing. I felt self-conscious and like I was both drawing too much attention to myself, and not able to pull the style off, or trying to hard. I want to use the wearing a barrette to slick your bangs down to the side. I felt that look was too 'cutie-pie' and not 'me', so I never did it, even though I thought it was super cute.

Once I was in my mid-to-late twenties, I finally got some confidence to the point where I loved my look and owned my style. I started to wear styles that I liked regardless of how I felt they looked. I kind of reverted to some of the things I was too chicken to wear as a kid - including the bang barrette.

I've kind of stuck in that mind-set, but now I feel like I'm perpetually fourteen-years old. I say things like 'totes', and 'I KNOW, right?' and read Twilight and The Hunger Games and see the movies on premiere night. I still do the bang barrette. I wear Converse sneakers with my skinny jeans and R2-D2 tshirts. I don't think like a grown-up, I fangirl about Wonder Woman and Jennifer Lawrence. I follow Seventeen magazine on Twitter and watch Pretty Little Liars.

Don't get me wrong, I have a full time job and provide for my family. I do all the mom stuff you would expect me to. I feed my family and help the boys with their homework, do the laundry and make them do chores.

But when it comes right down to it, I still think like I did when I was in high school; I still like the same kind of things, and still spaz out over the dumbest things. I honestly still feel like I'm fourteen-years-old in my head.

I just find it weird that I lived my life to be old, but now that I am old, I haven't matured at all.

Fish Taco Solution

Sorry for whining about the weather, but as I've explained, it's part of my nature, and it's been below freezing for the entire eleven days of this month and it's still Autumn, and I'm a little tired of being cold all the time.

When it snows, sometimes I like to put on surfing music and wear flip flops and floral prints. It helps ease my mind and warms me up a little. At least it makes me smile. I am a beach bum through and through.

I found another solution to surviving the cold and making it seem like summer; the fish taco. The spicy flavour, the fact that it's fish, the fact that it's a taco, the lime; all these things make me think of tropical, easygoing, mahalo, warmness.

I bit into that awesome taco and was transported.

So if you're feeling blue because of this early winter we seem to be experiencing in North America, head out to your favourite taco place and order a fish taco. It will help, and that's a guarantee.

What's up?

What's up? I'm on vacation right now. I'm not on holiday, but I'm off work. I usually take the first week of December off so that I can get all organized and ready for Christmas so that I can enjoy the season and relax. Everyone keeps asking me where I'm going for my vacation. Am I totally weird for not going anywhere? Last year I went home and that was totally excellent, but I made the right choice by staying home this year.

I've been pretending that I don't work anymore and that I'm a stay at home mom, which is my ultimate fantasy. It's been great for the most part. I get up with the boys every morning and get them ready for school, come home, have some personal time, and then work on deep cleaning the house. I got the tree up on Monday, yesterday I got rid of all the dog hair, piles of magazines in my room, and organized my shoes. I've finished three books, wrote some blog posts, gotten the Christmas shopping done, and even had a nooner with DH.

It's been really great, but the house is still cluttered. I'm no where near where I want to be, and I have to go back to work in a few days, so now I'm all depressed. I haven't done anything this morning because I just felt like I needed to take a break, but I have that nagging nittering feeling in the back of my mind reminding me of all the things I still need to do and that I'm running out of time. I hate that feeling. It's like the White Rabbit running through my brain reminding me that I'm going to be late!!

I've loved being home. I really have. I've been able to get a lot accomplished. It was really amazing when I got up this morning and I didn't trip over the pile of magazines by my bed. I can look out of the sparkling clean windows and watch the snow melt. I hate that I have to go back to work. I feel like I haven't gotten enough accomplished, and that I haven't had enough time off. It's so depressing to have to go back to the old routine where I have zero time to myself, and barely get the dishes and the laundry done. I've loved being able to watch Huey walk down the street towards his bus stop, and come home after dropping Dewey at school, and seeing how happy Orso is to have someone home with him. I've loved the peace and quiet as I eat my breakfast and look outside. I love listening to music while I work around the house and not being interrupted by anyone wrestling, fighting, or asking me for help or to tell them where something is. I love having this alone time during the day. I love that I can get bored, but that there's so much to do,  that the feeling soon passes as I am able to busy myself with the many projects that nag at me. The greatest thing is that I've been able to attack the project and actually complete it, instead of start on it, run out of time, and have to come back to it some other time , and who knows when that will be?

I've been thinking how awesome it would be to just be home all the time, but now I worry that I would feel guilty for just sitting and taking a break. Like I am now. I feel guilty because I'm not cleaning the bathroom and DH will be home in half an hour and ask me what I've done all day. If I wasn't working full-time, and this was my full-time job, then if I took a break, would I be acting lazy?

Ugh, I hate that my over-thinking everything ruins all my fun.

Is it Me or Did Christmas Come Early This Year?

I've whined before about the fact that I'm a Humbug, but this year seems particularly bad.

Half our neighborhood is already lit up. I'm okay with putting your lights up while the weather's not freezing, but do you have to turn them on already? No. The answer is no. No you don't.

Last weekend, Huey was watching a Christmas movie, and DH was listening to Christmas music. I had to leave the room.

Dewey came home from school today and was singing Christmas song.

WHAT THE HECK! IT'S NOT EVEN THANKSGIVING YET!!

Why are we rushing things so much this year?

Before I grew up, I used to impose this rule on my family that we would not decorate until after my birthday, which is December 8. (cards and love welcome, of course.) I didn't think I was being unreasonable as no one else had to compete with a holiday for their birthday, and I had to wait all year for my birthday. I felt it was just a matter of respect for me that we waited to celebrate Christmas until after my birthday.

Now that I'm an adult, I'm fine with decorating at Thanksgiving since I have the four days off and if I wait until after my birthday things are just too crazy and I end up putting the tree up on Christmas Eve.

I'm still a Scrooge about celebrating too early though. Let's just take the holidays one at a time, shall we?

SUP-er Rantgirl!

I've ranted and whined about my desire to be supernatural once or twice. Well since all things come in threes (especially when you're dealing with me), I'm going to whine about my need for superpowers.

If Rantgirl were a super hero, what would her powers be? I'm so glad you asked!

1) Invisibility. This is my number one wish. If I could have only one power, it would be this. I need this for the bad hair days, and for the times that I can't function in public, but I have to go out in public because I have other people that I'm responsible for. I also need this so that I can know what people are saying when I'm not in the room.

2) Jeanie-blink. (or for those born after the seventies, this could be also known as Disapparating) I would love to be able to just fold my arms, blink my eyes, and , boink, be somewhere else. It's not that I mind travelling, sometimes I just don't have the time to fly to Paris, and I would love to see the Eiffel Tower and put my lock on that fence.
This would be especially helpful for those moments when I say something terrible that I wish wouldn't have flown out of my mouth. I could just Jeanie-blink out of there and maybe everyone would just forget that I was even standing there.

I would also like to be able to open doors with my mind so that I can make a grand entrance. I would like to be able to speak any language. You know, like C-3PO. Then I would like to have the power to download my brain. I wish I could just take a USB cord and pop it into someone else's head because my powers of communication aren't the best.

Oh, and time travel. That would be cool too.

Performance Anxiety

I have really dense, naturally wavy hair. It is not so curly that I can't have a straight 'do without difficulty, and it's wavy enough to hold a curl for days. It's a massive forest of hair; when it's long, you can brush it for hours, run your fingers through it, and it's really soft, pretty and beautiful. I'm sorry that I'm being such a braggart, but my hair is one of my defining features. I really, really, love my hair.

When I was little, I had blonde hair, similar to the colour it is now. I have a big, huge cowlick in the front which prevents me from ever having normal looking bangs, but that is the only flaw. It was a pretty, flowing, golden blonde mane that was so thick and pretty. One day my Grama told my Mum that she needed to cut my hair because I was too lethargic and "it was sapping my energy". My mother didn't believe her, but because it was heavy, hard to take care of, and she had two other children to take care of, she cut it off. Apparently afterwards I seemed lighter and so much cheerier that she ended up believing that it really was all that hair.

I have had long hair only a couple of times in my life, and I can add my testimony to that of my mother's that my hair does sap my energy. It's long, heavy, and gives me a headache. It doesn't hang straight, so it covers me like a cape (or Cousin It), and is very, very hot. I hate having long hair because of what a hassle it is, but it's so pretty, it seems like such a waste to not have long hair and show it off.

I am a really good public speaker. I've won speech contests, debates, and student council elections based on my ability to speak in public. I'm also entertaining, funny, and quick on my feet. In a nutshell, I'm good in front of an audience. Really good.

I really hate being in public.

I get all kinds of anxiety leading up to the "performance", I'm not nice to be around, and I find it hard to function in regular life. Afterwards I am physically, mentally, and emotionally drained and usually have to spent time alone in a quiet, dark room in order to recover. Why is this? This really bugs me. Why am I good at something, like, really good, that is so taxing on me? Once I'm "on the podium" so to speak, I'm safe, the podium protects me - it gives me my power, but the times before and after are terrible. This is really hard for me to wrap my head around. A friend of mine posted on Facebook an article about creative people and one of the points was that creative people are both introverted and extroverted. I find this to be so totally true, and explains a lot. Many creative people are also crazy, which explains a lot too, but I'm not talking about that right now.

I identify as an introvert, and for the most part, I am, but every person I tell this to calls me a liar because they see me in public when I'm "performing". I still hate this about myself. I'm still trying to figure this out, but the point I'm trying to make with this rant is, WHY? I just don't get how, like my hair, something so wonderful and beautiful like a talent, can be so hard on a person. If it's a talent, shouldn't it come naturally? Shouldn't it be easy? (it is easy, like I said once I get up there, but the preparation and let down SUCKS) If I went the mentally healthy direction, I would never ever go out in public, but isn't that putting one's talent under a bushel? I have short hair for my health, and when people see pictures of my long hair, jealousy is usually expressed and the question asked why I don't have long hair. The answer, always, is me tilting my head backwards as if I'm being weighed down by my pony tail which is literally how I feel when I have long hair.

It just seems like such a waste of talent, but is the expense of mental and physical energy worth it? I'm most definitely not an extrovert, so should I leave the extrovertedness to the extroverts? This is so frustrating to me.

Now both my boys hate me

Dewey just had his birthday, now he's nine years old, and the following has happened:

We were at the grocery store, and I said, "This way, Booboo." He stage-whispered with clenched teeth and in the keep-it-on-the-down-low position, "Mo-om, don't call me that in public!"

We were at church and he had a mosquito bite on the webbing between his pinky and his ring finger that was super itchy, painful, and swelling like crazy. It was starting to hurt, and I'm allergic to them too, so I know how it is, so I took him out of sacrament meeting to go into the kitchen to put some ice on it to alleviate some of the pain. I was holding his hand in the hallway because I was being a Mommy and taking care of the boo-boo (not to be confused with the aforementioned Booboo). He saw one of his buddies in the hallway and immediately dropped my hand - like it was on fire or something.

Sad face.

Huey was much more independent than Dewey. He had me rejected in Grade two (age seven). I was hosting his class' Halloween party that year and he told me to not let any of his classmates know that I was his mom for fear I might embarrass him. Dewey has always been more tolerant of my antics and had more self confidence to know that having a weird mom was no reflection on him as a person. I knew this time was coming, the time where he cuts the apron strings and becomes a man, but, ouch! I miss my sugar bear.

Dewey refusing to take a photo with me on his birthday while at the Pizza Pie Cafe

The Mommy Wars - Rantgirl Weighs in‏

I'm mad. I'm mad and I'm sad. I'm Smad. (Bonus points if you get the reference.)

How is it that in 2013, there are still people who ask the question of Stay at Home Moms: "What do you do all day?" Is this a joke? How is this still happening? I can only assume that the people that are asking the questions are not experienced in the realm of motherhood and are therefore completely ignorant and are legitimately seeking the answer to their question. I mean seriously, how is this still a topic? Did they not have mothers?

People are so stupid.

Can't we all just agree that it's ALL work? Working is work, and being home is work and anyone who has spent any time at all around children knows that children are work. Right? So how is this still an issue?

I want to tell the stay at home mommies to shut the heck up sometimes when they cry about not being recognized as "working". Listen, girls, we all know that you work, okay?

I wonder if we have a jealousy thing going on. The ones who stay home are jealous of the ones that get to leave their house and wear pantyhose and talk to other adults, while the ones who work are jealous of the ones who get to stay home and wear yoga pants, don't necessarily have to shower that day and can kiss the smooshy faces of their babies whenever they want.

I know that I'm jealous. When I have those days where getting out of bed is a chore and I'm having a bad hair day and I hate all my clothes, I still have to get up and leave my bed and shower and get dressed in something "professional" because guess what happens if I don't? I don't get paid. If I do it often enough? I get fired and never get paid. And then I can't feed my children. I'm pretty sure that's an important thing in the role of a mother - to feed your children.

You want to talk about jealousy? How about the working mom who works from home, but hires a nanny to come and play with her children so that she can work? Those moms don't get to join in the conversation. I want to punch those moms.

Maybe I have the wrong friends, but I keep seeing these "Heck ya, I work, I stay home" type of posts and it makes me wonder about the working mom. What about her? Where is her voice? Well, for one, she's too busy to pipe up. She goes to work and works all day only to come home and work all night (or vice versa). What about those moms? What about the moms who leave their babies and go to work and hate themselves because all they want to do is stay at home with said babies?

I can't even talk about single moms who have no choice but to work. Single moms have a special place reserved for them in heaven. This one time DH and I took Huey and my two nephews to the beach; they were all around three years old at the time. Oldest nephew lived on an island and was best friends with the ocean, so tore off as far from us as possible and dove head first into the roaring surf. Huey and DH skipped along in the tide pools, wandering along at their own pace, stopping to look at crabs and weird seaweed and anything else that caught their fancy. Youngest nephew lagged far behind because he had tripped in a tide pool, got tangled up in seaweed, and was paralyzed with fear. O.N. was too far away to hear my shrieking pleas for him to return, and Y.N. was freaking out, so knowing that my son was perfectly safe with his father, and fearing for the lives of the sons of my sisters, I ran back, scooped Y.N. into my arms and raced to the surf to haul O.N. out of the ocean and to play within a safe distance. Just as I was walking towards DH and Huey, dripping wet, dragging a soaking O.N. by the hand and carrying a sobbing, drenched Y.N. in my arms, my mother and brother arrived with towels and her famous beach bag. She was laughing at me and said, "Can you imagine? I did this with FOUR of you all by myself! What was I thinking? It's amazing none of you drowned." Like I said, MAJOR props to the single moms.

Back to the working moms; what about them? The ones who get up and get their kids ready for their day while getting ready for their own day, to go to work and do things all day for other people only to come home and make the dinner and do the laundry and clean the dishes and supervise the homework and read the books and put the ones to bed. Forget it if there's a sporting event, musical instrument concert, or scout meeting to attend. What about those amazing jugglers who sometimes don't even manage to get out of their pantyhose until ten o'clock at night? Pantyhose can be itchy, you guys; it's annoying and ugly and expected for you to wear if you want to look like a professional.

When Huey was two I changed jobs and we had no choice but to enroll him in preschool. Every day for a year when I took him into school he cried. His teacher would have to peel him off me every day. Then I would go into my car and cry; every day for a year.

When I went back to work after Dewey was born, he wouldn't take a bottle. He would scream and scream, but he would not take that bottle. One time DH called me at work, I could hear Dewey screaming in the background and my milk let down immediately. "Just come home as soon as you can." He said, and hung up. I hung up, told my boss that I had to go home, she understood what I was going through, and raced home. I could hear Dewey panic-crying from the elevator. I rushed down the hallway, unbuttoning my blouse as I went. After some intense internet research, DH figured out how to get Dewey to take a bottle and things got better, but I can't tell you the guilt I felt for having to leave my baby every day.

I'm only going to mention the humiliation of trying to find a discreet place to pump so that my children wouldn't have to have formula.

We were blessed where DH and I worked opposite shifts for the most part, so I mostly left my baby boys with their daddy. This lessened my guilt a little, but only a little. What kind of a mother leaves her children for hours every day? I wished so much I could just be with them. I wished that I was the one changing their diapers and watching The Bear in the Big Blue House and Blues Clues and Thomas and Bob the Builder. I wanted to be the one to play blocks and trains and cars and make forts and puppet shows. I would get up every morning and look over at my sleeping boys and be so jealous of their father who got to spend all day with them.

DH and I fight constantly because the house is a mess, but I don't have the energy to clean after working all day and then attempting to be there for my boys all night. I admit that my guilt drove my over compensating. I would come home from work and just do whatever the little ones wanted because I felt so guilty for leaving them all day. We would play and read and watch movies. There would be some semblance of dinner, but my little boys were my first priority. Dishes and laundry could wait, but then DH and I would fight about how nothing got done around the house.

You stay at home moms who get the "what did you do all day?" question? You're not alone. I would get it too. DH would go to work at 3pm when I got home. He would come home for dinner at 7:30 and see that the house was still a mess and that there was no dinner yet, and he would ask, "What have you been doing for the last four hours?" The answer is I've been paying attention to my boys to make up for all the time I've missed today! Now that he's home and he sees what my evenings are like, he's backed off a little, but we still fight about this and Huey is thirteen!

Our babies are only babies for so long. The time goes quickly and I feel like I missed out on so much of my babies being babies. Dewey is nine and perfectly capable of taking care of himself. My guilt has lessened somewhat now that they are both in school while I am at work, so I don't miss out on being with them during the day. There are still those times when they're home sick or on school holiday that I can't be with them during the day and I hate it. I still wish I could be a stay at home mom.

Sometimes I feel like our children need us more when they're teens and trying to navigate themselves into adulthood than when they're little.

I've taken vacation time just to stay home and live the life of a stay at home mom. I still can't get everything done. It may just be me, but my vote is that raising children is all encompassing, and it's work.

You guys, being a mother is WORK. We are all mothers. We need to love and support one another in our roles as mothers. I'm not saying that anyone has it any better or worse than anyone else. We all have it hard. I just wanted to give a voice to the moms who have to leave their children every day in order to put food on the table.

I don't want to fight. I'm too tired to fight.

So. September Sucked.‏

I have decided that I hate September and I'm really mad about it.

Like, I can't believe it's already October 10. Wasn't it summer like two minutes ago?

Just when I made up with Snow, and Summer, now I have to break up with September. What's the deal? September used to be that month where you were all done with summer and ready for the new school year. Even after I was all done with school, I still used September as a renewal month to set new goals and look forward to a new year.

Now September is still hot and I'm not ready to let go of summer, but there's school and homework and routine and I'm not ready yet! How did September sneak up on me so fast? This summer went by too fast and it felt like we didn't do anything awesome. I wasn't ready for summer to leave this year and September was so weird. Hot one day, snowing the next. September, you were one moody beeotch this year. I guess I just got caught off guard this year, but it's been happening the last couple of years and it needs to stop.

I have found that February, April and September are the worst months for me. This has been bothering me for awhile, so of course I've been thinking and thinking and tossing it around in my brain for some time. I've come to the conclusion that one of the reasons that these months affect me so much is that they are so wonderful in BC and so not like that here in Utah. I'm trying so hard to bloom where I'm planted, but it's hard sometimes.

Since I'm whining about September, I'll talk about September and leave the other months for some other time. September in Vancouver is sunny, crisp, fall colours, and rain. You are instantly inspired to snuggle up in your tights and boots and sweaters. It is so beautiful. The weather changes, and it stays that way. There is none of this yo-yo scalding shorts and flip flops one day, snowing the next. There's too much whiplash weather here in the in-between seasons. In Vancouver you are eased into to the miserable weather and it rains a lot more. Here, it's summer one day, and winter the next. I hate it.

Did I mention I hate it? I had such a hard time this year. Getting into the routine of school and homework was like a slap in the face this year. Huey is doing a little better this year, but it's still a struggle. If I only had him to focus on, it would be okay, but Dewey is still at the point where I have to sit with him and listen to him read and help with math and by the time I'm done with all that, I'm too tired to fight with Huey.

I also struggled with finding time to do anything that gave me joy. I couldn't get myself inspired to blog, so I didn't make the time to write, and that was a bad idea. I've been composing this post in my head for three weeks, but just could never take the time to sit down and get it out of my brain. Reading seemed like such a drag too. I dunno if it was the book I was reading, or just the time of year, but the book was nice enough, I just couldn't get motivated to take the time to read when there were so many other things to do. Forget about sewing or doing anything else creative. My craft room looks like a bomb hit it and I just want to cry every time I think about it.

I just feel like time is racing away from me right now. Soon enough it will be Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas. It feels like time is going faster and faster and I have no way of catching up. I need to take a break and regroup, but I'm so worried that if I even take the time to breathe, that so much time will have passed that I'll be even further behind!

I don't feel organized and on top of things. I can't stop to rest until my chores are done and I just can't get caught up. I need some peace and quiet so that I can get myself back in order, but time is racing by so quickly that I just don't have the time to get in order. I need to make the time, but I just can't figure out when!

Ways to Fail at Combating Homesickness – The Rain

I’m certain that it’s well documented here that I like precipitation. Every time it rains I get so happy because it makes me think of home. When one lives in a desert-like climate, the rain is few and far between.

Recently, Little Sister posted the following on Facebook and we had a little public convo about it:

Little Sister posted a photo – “Its raining a little.”

Little Sister – Guess who gets homesick when it rains? (two people like this, me, and her fourteen year old son)

Me – MEEE TOOOO!! Just wait; you’ll rejoice when it snows because at least it’s precipitation. Mark my words.

Little Sister – When it rains here, it really rains!

Me – yeah, here not so much – being the desert and all.

Little Sister moved a year or so ago to New Brunswick and has been posting a lot about the weather, especially the snow which as British Columbians, we never truly experienced growing up. The weather in BC is so unique that it really takes a special sort of person to be able to endure it. (webbed feet help)

Little Sister and I are those kinds of people. We have always loved the BC weather, rain and all. I find it interesting that she and I are the only ones who have moved away from BC even though we both love it so much and neither one of us planned on ever leaving the coast. I also find it soothing that she misses the weather just as much as I do, even though she lives in a climate that is very much different to mine.

I should also not that neither one of us has webbed feet. I just thought I should clear that up.

The rain, it just does something to you…

Book Report - Princess Diaries

Title: The Princess Diaries
Authour: Meg Cabot
Length:    283 pages
How long it took me to read: 2 days

What it's about:
She's just a New York City girl living with her artist mom...
News Flash: Dad is prince of Genovia. (So that's why a limo meets her at the airport!)

Downer: Dad can't have any more kids. (So no heir to the throne.)

Shock of the Century: Like it or not, Mia Thermopolis is prime princess material.

Mia must take princess lessons from her dreaded grandmére, the dowager princess of Genovia, who thinks Mia has a thing or two to learn before she steps up to the throne.

Well, her father can lecture her until he's royal-blue in the face about her princessly duty--no way is she moving to Genovia and leaving Manhattan behind. But what's a girl to do when her name is Princess Amelia Mignonette Grimaldi Thermopolis Renaldo?

The ending is the most important part: Wait, there are fourteen princess books? How am I ever going to read them all? The ending segued into the next book perfectly, and now I fear that I will never get to the end of the story.

Last word: Very enjoyable, I wish that I had read the books before the movie, and I wish that I had read them a long time ago.

Spoilers after the jump:

Life in a Northern Town

This is the best song to listen to when it's been over a hundred for over a month (or so it seems). It reminds me of cooler climes and chills me the heck out.

When this song first came out in 1985 I was a young and naive fourteen year old girl living in Canada and thought it was about Canada having not ventured very far outside of Canada and assuming that if a song is about a Northern town it must be about Canada, not realizing that other countries have parts that are northern and o my gosh I miss Canada.

Book Report - Beautiful Redemption

Title: Beautiful Redemption
Authour: Kami Garcia and Margaret Stohl
Length:  451 pages
How long it took me to read: A Week

What it's about:
Is death the end . . . or only the beginning?
Ethan Wate has spent most of his life longing to escape the stiflingly small Southern town of Gatlin. He never thought he would meet the girl of his dreams, Lena Duchannes, who unveiled a secretive, powerful, and cursed side of Gatlin, hidden in plain sight. And he never could have expected that he would be forced to leave behind everyone and everything he cares about. So when Ethan awakes after the chilling events of the Eighteenth Moon, he has only one goal: to find a way to return to Lena and the ones he loves.

Back in Gatlin, Lena is making her own bargains for Ethan's return, vowing to do whatever it takes -- even if that means trusting old enemies or risking the lives of the family and friends Ethan left to protect.

Worlds apart, Ethan and Lena must once again work together to rewrite their fate, in this stunning finale to the Beautiful Creatures series.

The ending is the most important part: This whole book is an ending and the ending is satisfying... ish. I'm sad that the series is done.

Last word: Usually when I take longer than a week to read a book it's because I don't like it, but I was so sad for the series to end that I took my time with this one. The book ended how you thought it should, all happily ever after, which for once, seemed a little anti-climactic, but I still recommend the series.

Spoilers after the jump: