Posts from the ‘Sista Done Gone Crazy’ Category

Drum Roll….


Don’t tell my mother.  Just don’t.

I love it.  Cherry got one and her BFF Jennifer got one too.  We went to see my pal Jaynie at Ink Gallery Tattoo and she is the shizzy.   I told her she oughta think about doing that tattoo thing professionally.  Cherry and Jennifer’s are fabulous, too. (Mine’s prettiest though)  Look how perfect she got it…just like the picture.

 I went in the chair first (while Bryan With A Y firted mercilessly with Cherry) and it didn’t hurt too bad.  There were a couple places where I was wishing I had something to bite on but for the most part, it was not too painful.  (I’ve also had a nearly 10 lb baby without drugs so my pain threshold is quite high)

Cherry got cherries on hers and Jennifer had her daughter’s name (Autumn) written in Japanese.  I don’t have pictures of theirs, but, I do have a picture of us after said draw-rings took place-


I’m thinking December’s gonna be a little less exciting and adventurous than November has been.  Heh.  I’m feeling a little Indiana Jones-ish from all the adventure and I’m tarred.

There She Goes Again…

Sometimes I wish I were an anonymous blogger like Kate, who so beautifully tells stuff that’s going on, yet, we (at least I) have NO clue who she is.  I relate to a lot of the things she tells, as do a lot of people, I’m sure.

Yeah, I know all about Live Journal and other places one can blog stuff that either nobody or certain people can see.  I know all that.  I’ve tried that.  Something about it, is uncomfortable to me.  Don’t know why. 

Honestly, the biggest problem I have with multiple blogs is the multiple passwords.  I can barely keep up with signing in here. I like this being my place, ya know?  I mean, this here’s my little spot on the World Wide Web.  Sometimes (most times) I talk about insignifigant, boring junk, but, there are times, (like now) I wish I could get your input on some things, but, it is such, that I can’t, for a myriad of reasons.  My heart is full of stuff at the moment but it’s just not one of those things I can broadcast.  I’ve taken to carrying a little spiral notebook with me that I can jot down some of these things in as a means of something…I dont know what.  That’s helpful.  One thing I’ve learned from that intimate sort of journaling is that what we feel is not necessarily what is so cause feelings change from moment to moment.   Learning to differentiate “feeling”  from emotion.  I don’t know if that makes a lick of sense. 

One thing I can tell you here, that I don’t know that I’ve ever told here (but there are a couple people I’ve told and they seem flabbergasted) but I’ll tell you a little blogging secret about me:

I HATE the name “Sista Smiff.” 

I don’t hate the “Smiff” part.  I never had a nickname or nothing and I got that in my late 20’s and I like that ok.  But really, Smiff isn’t who I am.  That was a variation on my married name.  That’s not any sort of jab at my soon-to-be-ex husband or anything like that.  It’s not about him or anybody else.  It’s ALL about me, ya know.

Yeah, I know that was a name I gave myself when I started blogging long time ago in a spur of the moment, spontaneous, “What do I call this?” thing.  But, when somebody calls me “Sista” out in the real world?  I cringe.  I don’t know if it’s the same sorta cringe I get when I’m sung “Happy Birthday” to (I have never posted that picture but I must.  I HATE to have Happy Birthday sung to me.

  At my 5th birthday party, when it was sung to me, I hid behind a coat rack and a photo was taken of me.  Y’all would love that)  It’s almost like the cringe I got in 5th grade when I wrote this really lovely poem.  It was very spiritual and quite deep for a 10 year old, but, I cringed when it was hung in the hallway for the world to see.   I was embarrassed. 

I think it’s the same sort of cringe I used to get (not as much now) when I would recall a specific date or name of something and my family, or whoever, would marvel at my memory. 

Or in 1st grade, when I was sent to 2nd grade for Reading cause I read so well.  I was embarassed as hell by that.  Not by my 1st grade peers.  I don’t know what it was that mortified me so about it, but, I was really embarrassed.

I’ve always been embarrassed by my talents.  I’ve never quite figured out what to do with what I perceived for many years was weirdness.  I wanted to be a songwriter.  Did y’all ever know that?  I did  I dabbled in it a little, but, never got comfortable with opening up.  Same with singing.  I can sing but when I open my mouth in public (unless I’m doing a harmony part or something like that and can hide behind others) I don’t sound like I can carry a tune in a bucket. 

I’ll never forget when I was about 21, a newlywed and having a conversation with my mother in law and brother in law…both of whom are great songwriters.  I somehow let it out of the bag that I wanted to write songs and said how I’d always heard songs in my head…words, melodies….and just assumed everybody did.  I remember Hazel looking at me and saying…”No, Honey…not everybody hears songs in their head.” She went on to say how Harlan Howard used to say that songs were “floating around up there” and you had to reach up and grab them.

Why don’t I try to write songs anymore?  Cause I quit hearing them in my head and that really makes me sad.  Every now and then, a stray melody appears (happened today actually).  I quit trying because I was scared of it.  That’s so ridiculous. 

I was watching that show Celebrity Rehab with Dr. Drew?  (Gawsh, I love him!)  Tawny Kitaen was telling how she came by that name….Tawny.  Her real name is Julie (trivia!) but when she was 12, her parents divorced and she moved to a new school.  She saw this kid on the way to school the first day named “Tawny” and she decided that’s who she wanted to be.  They went through this whole thing about how she wanted to be somebody else and part of her addiction problem is not being herself or something.

This is another one of those rambling, meandering pontifications that I do from time to time that I have no idea why I’m telling this or where it’s going.  I can say that it is definitely taking the place of some deep, navel gazing thoughts I’m not comfortable sharing here at this point, although I wish I were. 

I guess some things we have to figure out in private.  There are things we have to figure out that’s between us and a select few in our lives or us and God.

Can’t Take Me Anywhere

My camera had gotten sickly about a month ago.  I sent it back to the manufacturer and they promptly fixed the problem (some sort of jam somewhere) and sent it back to me in a pretty quick turnaround.

I am happy to have my camera back.  I had missed it a lot.  I keep that thing with me most of the time and I felt half nekkid not having it on me there for a bit.  I just love my camera.

So, it came back Wednesday.  Yesterday, I returned from a goodbye lunch (6 people in our office had their last day yesterday) was putting the camera back in the case as I was walking up the sidewalk into the building and what did I do?  Just guess.

I dropped the damn thing. Right. On. The. Concrete.  It’s still working beautifully, it just made me mad. 

It’s like I can’t go anywhere all dressed/fixed up without something being amiss.  I’m just one of those people, I reckon.

Monday Morning Observation

I took the HT early this morning to send her off to Centrifuge for a week (I keep wanting to call it Ridgecrest but that isn’t even where they’re going. I kinda like CentriCrest or RidgeFuge).

This is the Girls’ pile of luggage…

And this would be the Guys pile of stuff going to Camp for a week…

Now, in all fairness, there aren’t as many guys on the trip (I don’t think) but do take note of the obvious lesser density in belongings, will you?  It made me laugh.

Something else that made me giggle and at the same time gave me hope that Tomorrow’s Leaders just may have some manners in ’em….look in this picture…Matt, who is my brother in all things of an Attention Deficited Nature and my preacher man, is praying over the kids before the bus leaves, asking God to keep them safe, etc.

The guy in the blue tshirt, who would be Rick…is leaning over to remove Kelsey’s head garment during the prayer.  Rick had a head garment of some sort on before the prayer commenced and he removed it.  I was impressed with Rick’s sense of respect for the moment, however, he did not, for whatever reason, remove my child’s headgear (she’s in the blue hoodie next to the faux pas’ing Kelsey)

I think next year or the year after, when #2 is old enough to embark on his own CentriCrest journey, I may have to go along for the ride. 

How I wish there were photographs (maybe there are somewhere) of my Ridgecrest (the pre-cursor to Centrifuge, which has been the rite of passage for most Southern Baptist kids since about 1984) trip in 1982.  Gosh, that was fun. 

I remember Eric McLemore sitting in the back of the bus (oddly enough, wearing a ski cap not unlike what the HT had on this morning) with his JAM BOX (oh how 80’s am I?) and he’d play that song of Joe Walsh’s (cassette..pre-cds) …the one about “I have a limo I ride in the back…I lock the doors incase I’m attacked) and he’d do the (was it a guitar solo) on the side of his face and I thought that was cool. 

Oh and Sandra kept insisting Eric play “Desparado” over and over and over and over…..That’s when I learned all the words to that song.  It’s not like it was a current hit in ’82. 

Mike Smart, who’s mama made him come on the trip, going out to smoke (seems she also sent along a carton of cigarettes in his suitcase. That’s hilarious to me. Mike was maybe a rising Senior in high school that summer. Can you imagine a mom in Brentwood doing that today???)

Mike’s sister, Sheri, who was one of my roomates on that trip…she was soooo pretty…a little older than me and me watching her do her Beauty Routine every night and trying to emulate it. (This was the summer I was in 7th grade, remembah) 

There was some canned drink in the machines there that I’d never seen before or since…it was like Mountain Dew, but, I think it was called “Moonshine.”  Chris Murphy and David Owenby collected those cans the whole week and built this monstrous pyramid in their window. 

We got aquainted with Carman on that trip.  One of our chaperones was HAWT for Carman.

I also remember very vividly the first morning at Ridgecrest, walking around and noticing the mountains of Western North Carolina. I remember stopping on the walkway and just staring at it, not believing how beautiful it was.  It still gives me a bit of a lump in my throat remembering how awed I was at that sight.  It looked much like this picture here.  (Maybe that’s why they used it. Derrrrr)  I’d only seen stuff like that on tv before then.  Just one of those moments…

We went to Sliding Rock on that trip….another natural phenomenon and perhaps THE COLDEST water I’ve ever been in.  Someday, I’ve got to take the Smiff Kids there.  That was the same day I went inside the city limits of South Carolina for about 5 minutes because somebody took a wrong turn ( a very wrong turn).  The only time I’ve ever been in that state and here the HT is in South Carolina for the second time and I’ve never been there.  How odd is that?

Anyhow…I tried to get a hug outta my daughter but no dice.  Kelsey and Morgan (her good girlfriends who dig me) obliged me. 

To be 14 again….um….no thanks.  I did enjoy watching her be 14 this morning though.



In Which I Discuss Parenting Teens

I’m convinced that as a mother of babies, toddlers and elementary-aged children, I was the bomb. 

From the time I gave birth to the Manchild, I was as confident about my abilities to take care of him and truly felt I had found my calling.  I was not a nervous new mother.  I felt like if mama dogs and cats knew how to take care of their babies, surely I could take care of that little feller.  And I did. 

Of course, the MC was perhaps, the most amazing baby/little boy ever.  Good natured as all git out.  He was why I wanted more babies cause he was a dream of a little guy. 

The Holy Tara showed up on the scene when the Manchild was 20 months old.  I was 24 years old and had two little babies but oh man…how I loved having those little people around me.  I never minded Barney even (this was when Barney was BIG) and I was not uptight about schedules, germs, or nothing like that.  I was a Stay-At-Home Mom then.  I had plenty of time for them.

  Those two were just the cutest little things.  They played together so perfectly.  We went to the park a lot…to the mall…just hung out.  I dont remember getting totally exasperated with them much back in those days.  I’m sure I had my moments, but, really, they were just the most fun and I loved being their mother.

I still love being their mother.  When I look at my handsome, strapping, 6’2 inch, 16 year old son, who is the spitting of image of his Grandpa Biff, hear him play this complex material on his guitar, when he discusses music theory and other things that are so over my head….that he makes pretty good grades and can talk knowledgably about most any subject…I’m so full of pride and find it hard to believe that’s the same little feller who carried his “Gee” around (what he called juice) and cried to watch “Dubbadee” all the time (he was obsessed with CMT as a toddler.  Loved those videos.  Go figya)  Now he likes sweet tea and practically has a 5 o’clock shadow. 

The Holy Tara came into the world with two quick pushes, eyes wide open, ready to see what was going on.  She sang herself to sleep as an infant and talked in complete sentences at 14 months.  When she’d try to pull herself up when she was about 8 months old….would fall flat on her face….would not cry but would do a disgusted grunt and get right back up and do it again.  She has more resolve and determination in her than just about anybody I know.  (She reminds me that way of her Grandma Hazel and her Aunt Gastrica)  She has the voice of an angel and its been fun of late watching her find that voice and work it. 

I’m so proud of these two teens of mine (y’all know how I am about #2.  He’s not a teen yet though).  I’m not saying this cause I want a bunch of comments lauding my mothering…nope.  I feel like I suck as a mother to teens.  I really do.  I have no patience for DRAM-uh.  Not much of that with the Manchild but with the HT, it’s constant.  I have no patience for it.  None.  I feel like I let them down constantly in more ways than I can even tell here.  I feel like I’m growing up so much my own self, that I’m not as attentive or take their stuff as seriously as I should. 

I always thought I’d really rock as a mom to teens cause I’m younger than a lot of their friends’ parents.  I don’t think this is so.   The thing is, they’re close to being grown.  Two years from now, the MC will be a legal adult.  The HT is not far behind him. 

It’s not my style to be one of those moms thats in their face, volunteering for everything at the school and every activity.  It’s not cause I’m not interested.  It’s more that I want them to be free to be themselves in their world, without any self consciousness that Mom is looking or what I might say.  I sorta felt like that when I was a kid.  Scared to be who I was.  Afraid I would look stupid or something.  So, I try to give them some space. 

I’m not a rigid rules person, however, I feel like I’m the Parent, they are the Child.  My job is not to be their friend, yet, I want them to feel like they can bring stuff to me…which they do. 

I don’t know the point of all this babbling….maybe I’m just realizing time is marching forward and they are becoming their own people….I don’t know. 

I do love my kids.  I hope they realize that when the chips are down, their Mama’s got their back.

Can somebody just make time stop or at the least…slow down a little?? 


So, I’m treadmilling it tonight and on the tevee (how cool is it treadmills have their own, individual teeeevees?  God is good)  and I swear, I was so happy to see The Office, I the_office_cage_match_inner.jpgcould’ve just cried right there.  Nevermind they were episodes I had already seen, but, dadgum, I’ve missed them. 

What does it say about me that I can’t wait for next Thursday and a new episode?  What has become of me?

I saw somebody today wearing a blue sock and a black sock.  Nope.  It was not me. 

I’m ashamed to say it, but, I have arrived a little late to the Gillian Welch/David Rawlings party and alls I have to say is…I am in love.  Why didn’t any of you direct me to this sooner?  I mean, yeah…I was aware and had a bit of a ‘tude about them California people trying to do that stuff.  (Never mind California is the state of my birth)  I’m such a snob about Hillbilly Music.  But, here, in front of God and everybody…I repent.  I am so sorry. 

Who is a happy girl since finding out that The Philadelphia Story is going to be playing at the Belcourt April 19-20?  Can you guess?  That would be me. 

Something else I’m looking forward to and excited about is the 1st Annual 5k Run/Walk Beyond The Limits For Autism, which is also April 19 in Hendersonville.   I am there.

And who told me I needed a hobby?

Holy Bubo Virginianus, Batman!

Remember the saga a few weeks back of the baby owl that got kicked out of the nest over there where I work?  Then the Waldens Puddle People came and put the little feller back and everybody was one, big, happy family?

A few of us at work have watched that tree every single day for sightings of Mama and babies.  Here lately, we’ve noticed that Mama hadn’t been around much.  I imagine she’s off hunting for food and stuff for her younguns and such.  Either that or the kids are driving her nuts and she just has to get out oncet in awhile to keep her sanity.   No wait. That’s me.

This is one of those things that makes me realize that I am becoming an older person because I like to watch birds.  I even talk to the things when they come to my birdfeeders.  Just call me “Barbara” why don’tcha? 

Now my Shishter’s mama, Pat, P-A-T Pat….she sings to the little birdies when they come up to her house.  I haven’t done that yet.  I just like birds.  Sue me.

Just about everyday, me, Co-workers Chris and Donna have updated the other on whether or not we’ve seen any action at the Fanciest Owl’s Nest in Tennessee.  We’ve been able to see little heads bobbing around some (they’re in a big ol’ tree). 

I don’t know how many times me and Chris have walked out there looking.  Just yesterday, Chris and I made our trek down the hill and he even had his binoculars. 

chris-birdwatching.jpg  He made the comment that our babies would soon be leaving and I said something brilliant like “Yeah…maybe they’ll write to us…visit” and Chris said “Send us Mother’s Day cards!”  Hee.  It has been fun.

Today, I think the Owl Babies decided they would be cooperative and pose for me.  Wanna see?  Twist my arm….ok. 

Aren’t they adorable????

Ok…I have to go catch up on my Matlock and Murder She Wrote episodes I’ve got on the dvr.  I keep waiting for a “Jessica and Ben Hook Up And Do The Wild Thang” before they both die.  You know…like the Scooby Doo Movies where they met up with Laurel and Hardy, Sonny & Cher, etc? 

 I keep waiting for them to air the Cass Elliott one.  The one in the “Haunted Candy scooby.jpgFactory.”  How mean that everything about Cass was associated with food??? 

Owls….Birdwatching…Cass Elliott….I think it’s safe to say my pill has done wo’ off today.  Whee. 

Here’s ya some info on owls

Crappity Crap

Newscoma…I didn’t mean to lose my wonderful template.  That’s what I get for playin’.

Faux Pas Of The Day

We had a little tree trimmin’ party at work, right?  They start singing the Christmas carols.  This older lady who works here starts singing.  I knew she was a pianist and stuff at her church.  I thought she was teasing like I do when I throw in massive vibrato for comic effect.

I patted her and said “Come on sing in your for real voice!”  Um.  That was her for real voice.

I’m on a roll this week.  This older lady at my church passed away.  She has the same last name as another family.  I thought it was the other family whose mother died.  I told her daughter how sorry I was.  Thanks, but, she isn’t dead yet. 

That’s not near as embarassing as the time I told the guy at the video store I saw his daughter a few days before.  He looked at me with the weirdest look on his face and said “My daughter died in January.”  This was July. 

A Fashion Tip For You From Your Sista

I wore my black turtleneck today.  That’s part of my cold-weather uniform.  I dig it.

I had washed it and then put it on this morning.  I wore that sucker all day. I was sitting with a few people this evening and I thought “This neck feels thicker than usual.”  I then realized I had worn my turtleneck bass-akwards the livelong day.

Because I am so full of couth, I told my friends, “Y’all…I have my shirt on backwards and I’m going to turn it around.” I just twisted around and I felt much better.

At least I didn’t go to church with two different shoes on. I have done that before.


I found my camera that had been missing for a couple months.  Not telling where I found it.  I was hoping I would find the camera situated with my missing retainer. 

I Won’t Back Down

I feel like I can say with certainty that I did a lot better on my Lecture exam last night than I did on the Lab exam last week.  I don’t know what I made on last night’s test, however, I do know what I got on the Lab test.  How should I put it poetically….your Sista did not do so good.

All is not lost, according to my teacher. He said I do need to come to some open labs.  I do feel like I’m getting my sea legs a little more now though and kinda know how it works and really see that I have to put lots of time into this stuff.  I’m going to have to be obsessed with it. 

 If I could just stop getting upset everytime I go to the Math place.

I guess going to the Math place after my test last night and after getting my Lab test grade was not the best idea.  I get in there, get my headphones on, that geeky lady on the video started talking about decimals, and the tears hit.  (Don’t worry…nobody around me knew I was losing my mind. I’m really a pro at going nuts quietly).  I only stayed in there about 40 minutes and decided I wasn’t accomplishing anything.

Good thing is Fall Break is next week.  The Math place will be open and I’m planning on getting caught up to speed on the Math crap exercises.

Anybody who is really good at study skills who might have some study suggestions for me, have at it.  (I’m looking specifically at a certain Stanford graduate.) 

No I Di-Int

No, that was not me putting deodorant on at my desk cause I forgot to this morning.  Nope.  Must be a figment of your imagination. I also did not go off from the house and leave my wallet at home.  Nor did I come to work with some sorta gook on my pants leg that I don’t know what it is.  Good thing they’re black and nobody can see it but me.

To Keep Me From Going Insane…

Annoying/Shrill/Loud/ Co-worker is back in the office following her daughter’s totaling of her brand new car.  I’m going to keep a tally today of how many times I have to hear her tell the story in the office and on the phone.  Just for fun.  If I don’t do something, I will become disgruntled.  I will give the total at the end of the day.  Stay tuned.

Get Those Curtains Down, I’m Making Me A Dress

carol.jpgDays like today make me wonder how I will manage trying to take some classes, work full time and manage kids, house, etc. while Mr. Smiff is on the road a large portion of the time. 

I’ll think about that tomorrow.