It's a bird, it's a plane, it's PsychoGirl!

I might be a superhero.

Is it true if one of your five senses is weak, another sense will become stronger in compensation? I'm blind as a bat. Seriously. I can only see clearly within 12 inches of my face. Beyond that, everything is a hazy conglomeration of muted colors and shapes. On the other hand, I hear the refrigerator click on and off from two flights upstairs. I hear the garbage truck when it rolls into my neighborhood five blocks away in the wee hours of the morn'. I hear my daughter sigh as she rolls over (and over and over and over) at night. It's ridiculous.

I would like to use my supersonic hearing powers for good. I really would. Unfortunately, I can't function over the sound of you chewing your food. Try as I may to drift away to my quiet place, if I'm within fifty feet of a gum flapper, I'm going to have an episode. It's like I'm afflicted with Tourette's or something. I can't stop myself. I also apparently have a heavy sigh/run-my-fingers-through-my-hair move that signals my discontent. I can't find words to adequately describe how I feel when I'm near an open mouth chewer. It's as though Wolverine's adamantium was injected into my veins, but instead of making me awesome and indestructible, it made me crazy.

Snorers also have this affect on me.

I'm neurotic today because...
...I wish I could pull a childhood move from my bag-o-tricks and start chucking things at the offender until they stop or until I run out of objects within arms reach, whichever comes first.

Who do I speak to about a nickname?

Today I saw a Harley Hog boldly block an intersection with his bike so that two miles (literally) of buddies could pass through the red light without stopping. First of all, I wasn't aware this was legal. Is there a Harley Hog loophole for traffic light law that I'm not aware of? Secondly, I began wondering what it might be like to be someone else. If I weren't me, who would I be?

I'm definitely thinking biker chick. But I'd have to ride a Honda or whatever the fast bikes are, because, although I can rock a bandanna like it's nobody's business, my hair isn't long enough to fix into those Willie Nelson braids. Better to go with mysterious biker chick. Yeah, mysterious. Picture me arriving at my destination--at dusk, always at dusk--, dismounting my bike, gracefully removing my helmet, and performing one of those cool slow motion hair flips. Maybe there could be some fog creeping in as I strut towards the setting sun. This, of course, would happen whenever and wherever I arrive, because I will be an amazingly cool biker chick.

Nailed it. Yeah, I did.

I'm neurotic today because...
...going 61 mph in a 40 mph speed zone whilest daydreaming about becoming a biker chick and coming away with a written warning could only happen to me, suburban soccer mom. Today it was good to be me.

I need a bandaid, STAT!

My son, the drama king.

This afternoon we spent some real quality time [running errands] in one of our favorite places [Target], much to Jacob's delight [misery]. Whilst calmly perusing [clowning around] the toy [laundry detergent] aisle, I hear my dear son cry out [scream the girliest scream known to man] in pain. I immediately turned [after I loaded up my Tide--inside the basket, btw] to investigate the situation:

Me: 'Jacob, what happened?'

Jacob: [clutching his hand close to his chest] 'I ca-can't sh-show you, I-I'm losing too much bl-bloooooooood!'

Me: 'Okay, okay, calm down. Let me see. [holding back my laughter] Oh my goodness, Jacob! Are you OKAY?!'

Jacob: [peeking at his finger] 'Oh nooooooo! I'm probably going to lose the nail! Are you going to have to take the nail off!? It's bleeeeeeeeeding!'

Me: 'I know, I know it's bleeding. Profusely! I probably won't have to take the nail off...but I might need to remove the whole thing. [give it a minute, let it sink in] You don't mind having one less finger, do you?'

Jacob: 'Oh, Mom.' [eye roll]

Meghan: 'That was a good one, Mom. You really had this convincing look on your face. I liked that!'

[Smile]

I'm neurotic today because...
...I've spawned a child with more drama in his injured little finger than all the daytime television stars combined.

Rated N for Not-Quite-Right

I was asked a few weeks ago whether I thought I'd be able to continue writing at this pace. I guess time will tell, although I've never really had to brainstorm for ideas...my mind is a hodgepodge of useless knowledge, random thoughts, and minor neuroses. For example:

Last night I saw bats flying around the neighborhood, so I put my hood up for protection. Fool proof, I think. I really need to get my glasses adjusted so they stop falling off the end of my nose. Or get a bigger nose. Ke$ha, you're silly. You and your robot voice are just silly. Furthermore, I think the only way you should be allowed to change the 's' to '$' is if you're raking in some serious dough, and I don't believe you are...or will for the long haul, anyway. I'm contemplating going with &he!l@. It makes just as much sense. And while I'm thinking of it, why is Eminem still so angry? Meghan thinks she has more mosquito bites than skin. What a crazy kid. You do have more bacteria than body cells, though. Maybe I should tell her. Everytime I text, my i's and m's triplicate themselves. I hope the recipient doesn't think I can't spell. I lost two facebook friends today. I wonder if it's because I unintentionally triplicate my i's and m's. Maybe. Or maybe it's because they read my blog and actually think I'm certifiably crazy. Maybe they only allot a certain number of crazy friends, and I didn't make the cut. Sometimes I wish I still drove the beat-up Volvo, so when someone cuts me off on the beltway I could just ram them in the rear-end. Not hurt them or anything, just let them know it's not polite to cut people off.

Welcome to five minutes in my head. I wouldn't recommend extended stays, but it's always fun to drive by, point, and laugh.

I'm neurotic today because...
...the inner workings of me are not for the faint of heart.

Would you like to participate in a research study?

I've been spending a lot of time alone lately (two whole days). No children, no Mommy #2, nada. Just me and my bi-, eh, dog.

I'm not sure if I'm doing it the right way, but I've been going with the wander-aimlessly-through-the-empty-house-talking-to-myself method of singledom. It's not as though I have nothing to do. There are waist-high piles of laundry giving me the hairy eyeball, spiders taking up residence in the cobwebbed corners of my living room, and half-a-dozen boxes scattered around my storage facility of a bedroom that I have yet to pack away since moving...a year ago.

The problem is this: I cannot function unless I'm doing nine things simultaneously. I really can't. Throw in the fact that I don't have children bellowing 'Mommy, guess what' or 'Mom, can I', and I'm two short steps from catatonia.

I must keep busy. Maybe tonight I'll label my socks R/L and by numbered pair. Or recaulk my bathtub. Or read my Organic Chemistry book for fun.

Oh, the possiblities!

I'm neurotic today because...
...I don't even remember how to relax...maybe I'll conduct some research...yeah, that's it...I'll research relaxation.

I'm giving up the stamps, what more do you want from me?

In retrospect, I should have negotiated to keep custody of my in-laws in the divorce settlement.

I've spent the past four days camping with my ex-mother-in-law and family, and I realize more than ever that these are my people: fun, with just the right amount of crazy. I mean that in the most loving way possible. I really do. But hey, you can't blow dry your goodies after the shower and expect me not to call you crazy. I'm sorry.

Anyway, I think somewhere between child support and property settlement you should be able to negotiate extended family custody. Maybe some sort of barter system should be in place, where I could have given up my stamp collection in exchange for my mother- and sister-in-law. Okay, so I've never had a stamp collection. The point is, I think it's only fair that I get to keep the people I like in exchange for meaningless inanimate objects. It's only fair, I tell you.

I'm neurotic today because...
...I'd like to take the ex-husband back to court for property of his family.

Oy vey!

"Hi. So i was wondering whats up with your post, I wasn't sure if you still had this.. Please let me know! Thanks in advance."

That is an actual response I received in reference to an ad I posted for a summer babysitter. I'm not sure why I'm surprised, really. This generation of young adults has frightened me for some time now. My reply to this young woman:

Dear Anonymous (because you didn't provide your name),

"What's up" with my post is I need summer child care. Had you taken two seconds to read my ad, you would have a clear understanding of "what's up". As far as being sure I "still had this", rest assured I still have my children. They're not borrowed, on lease, or returnable.

Furthermore, your grammar and punctuation is atrocious.

Sincerely,
Thanks, but no thanks

I'm neurotic today because...
...I can't find a teenager more responsible than my 9 year old son.