The Reluctant Prophet

It Never Goes Away

2011-03-25T23:11:00.004-04:00

I have blogged here, sporadically, I'll admit, for many years now. I have tried to tell some funny stories and pass on whatever wisdom I thought I could to anyone who was of a mind to wade through it all. I've been irreverent, irrelevant, and irrational, sometimes all within one posting.

All my life -- or, at least, as far back as I can remember -- I have used humor as a weapon. I make jokes at my own expense, because it somehow lessens the hurt if you make the joke before anyone else does. And, there are always jokes. Always. The inevitable fat joke looms around me like vultures scenting out carrion. Or, that's what I've always told myself. Make the joke first, and it takes the sting out of it -- except, it doesn't. That's merely a coping mechanism.

I wasn't always fat. I grew up as active as all the other kids -- jumping rope, running, bike riding. Summers were spent outdoors until the last possible second, and you knew you were in trouble if you were still out when the street lights came on. I can still see, in my mind's eye, a much younger version of my mother standing on our front step, bellowing my (and my brother's) name like she was calling the farmhands in for dinner. I took gymnastics, ballet, tap. I swam from the very first warm day in the spring until the last possible second in the fall when my father would drag me out of the pool, blue-lipped and protesting.

It was only a matter a time before my family heredity set in, though. And, right about puberty, it came, with gusto. I come from a pretty full complement of larger people, and on both sides of my family. Wonderful people, all of them, but ones who just like food. I am one of those people. I like to eat. Eating has never really defined my life in that I am constantly planning on what to next put in my mouth. I have eaten to excess, yes. I have even self-medicated with chocolate, but I feel like everyone has done that at at least SOME point in their lives. It's not just about the food.

"Fat", though, HAS come to define me. It is the first thing that pops into people's heads when they describe me. Not "funny", or "intelligent", or even "nice." I am that "fat" lady. Those of you who have never grown up fat can never truly understand what it's like. Those of you who gained a little weight as you got older may think that you know how hard it was, growing up fat, but you really have no clue. How many nights I cried. How many nights I still do. How unloved you can still feel, even 25 years later.

I hold no illusions about myself. I am not "pretty", and never have been. I don't expect sympathy, or exclamations to the tune of "Oh, stop that, yes you are!" I know them to be untrue. I am plain. I know this. I have always known it. It wouldn't be so bad if it wasn't paired with "fat" as well. I am that friend that always had to get paired up with the unlucky best friend so there would always be two couples on whatever double date. Many times, I heard the comments about how hideous I was when they thought I couldn't hear. Hell, half of the time, they weren't even nice enough to try to hide those comments. I have been the subject of many a bet. I once even got a videotape where an obviously drunk college-aged guy was being egged on to vomit. One of the comments that was thrown at him as an inducement to vomit was my name and a picture of me. These young scions of nobility thought it would be a good laugh to not only tape it, but provide me with the tape so that my ugliness was not lost on me.

I go to incredible lengths to not look at my body. It only depresses me when I see it. I don't have a full-length mirror anywhere in my house. I spend awful amounts of money on clothes because they cost so much more for large sizes. There is even shame that I just can't go to a store and pick something off of a rack -- I have to try it on to make sure it will fit, or run the risk of having to return it later, and look some clerk in the eye and try to lie and say, "I didn't like that color after all." I lie to myself that I look good. I know better. I make goofy faces in pictures so you won't focus on what I really look like.

I thought that I would reach an age at some point where I didn't feel like the most unattractive person on the planet, or a total failure and waste of space, but it hasn't happened. And, unfortunately, it doesn't look like that day will ever come. I still get the comments, and they still hurt. I still hear people talk about me as if all the fat has blocked off both my hearing and my feelings.

It will never get any better, will it? Even if I did manage to lose some weight, I'd still be that ugly girl, on the outside, looking in. And there's not a joke in the world that will ever make that better.

Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night

2011-02-24T20:07:00.004-05:00

Some of you who are long-time friends and/or Facebook pals may know about the passing of my much -loved Auntie B. I have spoken of her a time or two within these walls.

Auntie B. was was diagnosed with Brain Cancer in October of 2009. At the time, her doctors told us that it was terminal, usually within 3 years of diagnosis. This type of cancer, called Glioblastoma Metaform, was very aggressive. Auntie B. underwent the surgery to excise the softball-sized tumor a few days after her initial onset of symptoms. She made it through the surgery very well, and amazed us with her strong recovery. She was never one to moan about things -- she just put on her game face and got out there and got it done.

She was well enough to travel to San Francisco in May/June of 2010 for my brother's wedding. In fact, if it had not have been for her masterminding basically the whole trip, I'm sure it would have been a much different experience for my family. Auntie B. was lucky to marry into wealth, and she was very generous with the people she loved. Not only in monetary ways, but with love and affection, and her time and attention. She rented all but two rooms of an entire bed-and-breakfast in Cloverdale, California for our family for the wedding.

It was a wonderful trip -- we got to travel, spend time with family, and were able to share in my brother's special day. Auntie B. was happy. I was glad to see her looking so well . We got to talk, sitting out on the back porch at the inn, watching the sun shine down on the vineyards that surrounded us. We laughed. At was a wonderful time for us all.

Our luck was not to last, however. Scarcely a month later, her doctors would tell her that the tumor had returned, and was almost as large as the original tumor. "Letting it go" was not an option. She had another surgery, but this time, there was no bouncing back. She went home in a wheelchair, and never left it. She lost her battle on November 7th, barely a year later.

I miss her. I always will. I got a chance to visit her in early August before the second surgery, but then time slipped away from me. I had commitments -- work, school, Girl Scouts.... and I never got to see her again. I constantly scold myself that I should have MADE time, but I thought that it wouldn't come so soon. That there would be more days. And then -- there weren't.

I have always been petrified of death. I don't want to think about my life coming to a close; about no longer being and breathing. I start to slowly panic when I think about my lifespan being a finite thing. It scares me to my core. But, I have come to have a greater tolerance for it, because I know that Auntie B. will be one of the people waiting there for me. When my time comes, as it must to us all, I will hold out my hand, and feel hers within it once more.

Rest until then, Auntie B. I miss you, every day. I will be so happy to see you again.

The Cookies Are Trying to Kill Me

2011-02-19T16:55:00.002-05:00

Yes, it's true. While most of you may not automatically associate Girl Scout cookies with "pure evil", I certainly do. Maybe it's because I see so many of them compared to most of you. CCW will feel my pain, having been a troop cookie manager in the past, but most of you get happy smiles on your faces when you know it's cookie time. Not me.

More evidence that the cookies are indeed trying to kill me -- the strained back that I got on pickup day. I apparently compressed the sacroiliac joint in the pelvis, and boy howdy, does it HURT! I have pain killers and muscle relaxers from the doc, but they are barely denting the pain.

So, you guys enjoy the cookies. I'm going to stay over here, out of the way.

Back From The (Virtual) Dead

2011-02-12T23:09:00.002-05:00

Hello? Anyone still here? Or is it just me and the spiderwebs?

It has been far too long since I posted here, and even farther back for anything of substance. I missed all of my blog friends, and realized that I could easily remedy that situation. I think I stopped blogging because it had become too much like tooting my own horn. That's a contradiction in terms, I know -- that's essentially what blogging IS, but suffice it to say that I was blogging just to hear myself talk, and what I was saying was boring the hell out of myself. So, I stopped.

But, even though I "see" a lot of you on Facebook, we aren't connecting like we used to. *That's* what I miss. I miss seeing your funny anecdotes about the kids; or the newest thing that's driving you bonkers.

You haven't missed much with me -- still here. Still trying to earn a living, and not to get arresting for trying to sell my teenaged daughter to the circus. Taking each day, moment by moment. How's by you?

Vitriol Derailed

2010-04-14T20:37:00.003-04:00

I was all set to post a scathing diatribe about my City and their so-called "Water Services" Department after the past two weeks of dealing with a leak in my front yard, but after reading The Wednesday Whine where several members have recently either lost a loved one, or have an ill loved one (one who is pretty much terminal at only 9 years old), I've lost the will to spout off at the mouth about things that are petty in relation. A young man in my community also just died, and while I didn't know him, I see those around me who DID know him locked inside their own grief, and it struck me how fortunate I really am.

What I want to do today is celebrate all that I have. I have the very bad habit of praying only when I want something, or when I wish I'd made a better decision. I've spent the last few years trying to cultivate prayer for prayer's sake alone, and I often don't display that enough.

Dear God --

Thank you. Thank you for giving me life, and bringing me into this world. Even though I have faced hard times, you have blessed me in countless ways. I have my family, who are the joy (and sometimes bane) of my existence. My wonderful husband loves me, and much to my astonishment, still finds me attractive after almost 20 years together. He is supportive, hard-working, and my best friend. My daughter makes me laugh every day, even when she's infuriating me. She has brought joy and light to my life, and to that of all of our family members.

I have my health. When I broke my ankle, I became sorely aware at how much I depend upon my mobility, and how lost I was without it. I have eyes and ears that let me enjoy art and music, and hands that allow me to create and touch my loved ones. And, those loved ones are healthy -- surprisingly so, for such a large extended family. Death has touched us, but we have lived through grief, and it has brought us together. We are stronger as a unit than as disparate individuals.

I have a home. Not all people in our nation can claim that, sadly. There was even a time when *I* couldn't claim that. The hopelessness that comes with not even having a place to call your own is beyond imagining. That we are the most industrialized and wealthy nation on the planet, and not all of our own citizens can lay claim to a home is a travesty of the highest proportions. No, my home isn't perfect, but it's mine. I have the freedom to come and go, and a certain amount of security from the cares of the world once I enter its shelter. It keeps me warm and dry, and safe, and I am grateful for it.

I have a job, which again, many of my fellow countrymen do not. I make a decent living, one that allows me to not only pay the debts that I have incurred, but also allows me things that are not necessary in this life, but help fulfill pieces of me. I don't need an entire room of crafting material, but it's something that I enjoy, and I like to use what I know to make others happy. Likewise, my husband doesn't need all the electronics we have, but it makes him happy. My husband works very hard, and his salary keeps our family afloat. His toil feeds us. I am grateful that he has this job, which allows us to subsist and thrive.

I have friends and hobbies that occupy space in my heart. My friends are generous and give to me in their knowledge and their presence. They feed my soul. My hobbies also feed my soul. Girl Scouting is as much for my benefit as it is for the girls that I shepherd through the program. I learn from them all the time. They teach me humility, and they keep me grounded in a way that very few hobbies do. My crafts feed the artist in my soul. They allow little pieces of me to be experienced by others, and when they travel away from me, I feel as if a piece of me has gone with them, but in a good way. In a sharing sort of way. Some people say that I have talent. If so, then God has given me that talent, and by sharing bits of it with others, I can impact them. And, when I impact them, I give praise to God for bestowing that gift upon me.

I have a mind, which allows me to grown and learn. My mind can take me to wondrous places, and with it, I have the capacity to be anything that I want. My mind is not afflicted with disease, like countless others, who suffer daily. I am whole, and healthy, strong and capable. Within me lies enormous potential -- all I have to do is make myself open to knowledge, and accept that challenge.

Thank you, God -- for all that you have given me, and all that you continue to gift me with daily. Thank you for allowing me to grow and experience, even though some of those lessons were difficult and hard-won. Thank you for loving me as your child, and watching over me. Thank you. I will strive to live my life as a fulfillment of the promise that you put forth for me. I only hope I am worthy of the task.

An Open Letter to the Little Shit Who Broke My Daughter's Heart

2010-03-16T23:22:00.003-04:00

Dear Shit --

Hi. I'm Offspring's mother. You will probably refer to me as "Bitch" after this message, but that's not really my concern. What *is* my concern is my daughter. My daughter is a wonderful person. She's smart, talented, beautiful, and a damn sight better than a little puke like you deserves. She cared for you, and you broke her heart. You played her against other girls, and dropped her as soon as it was easy for you. She helped you with your problems, only to have you pay her back by making her feel insignificant and unloved. What a nice guy you are!

Now, you may think I'm older than the sand in Jesus' Jerusalem Cruisers, but I can assure you that I am not in danger of kicking the bucket any time soon, so I suggest that you stay away from my daughter. Or "the bucket" is not the thing I'll be tempted to kick the hell out of.

It galls me to no end to see you pop up in her Facebook feeds. You talk all sweet to her, like you didn't rip out her heart and stomp all over it. You're lucky you moved across the state, or you and I would have had a nice little face-to-face chat. I would *DEARLY* love to paste this on your Facebook profile, so all the other sweet girls who fall for your huckster charms would see that you're not the innocent, nice guy you claim to be. But, that would hurt my daughter, and I won't have her hurt anymore because of you. Plus, she's a strong girl, and she can fight her own battles. You may have hurt her, but you haven't broken her. She's made of stronger stuff than a creep like you can dent, Thank God. I, however, have absolutely no problem at all wishing you dead in a fiery explosion of some sort. And preferably with the most pain possible.

I understand that teenage boys are all out to "play the field" and have a good time, but you seem to forget that you are dealing with people's feelings. Not to mention their irate mothers. So, unless you care to meet this irate mother, I suggest you quietly disappear from her virtual life, just like you did from her real one. This is the only free pass you'll get. There's a great many things I would do for my daughter, and flaying you alive and staking you out under a burning sun over an ant's nest while covered with honey is only one of the scenarios that a little maggot like you would inspire.

Oh, and if you EVER refer to my child as your "Lover of the Day" again, I will make sure that I remove your testicles and roast them before your eyes before I stake you out.

Love,
Offspring's Mom

The Month in Review

2009-12-29T16:41:00.003-05:00

Since I have not blogged in the last month, due to Christmas, vacation, and all of the yearly seasonal hullabaloo, I figured that I would pop in and let you all know that I am still firmly planted above ground, and give you the quick rundown of the last 30 days or so.

* November's end brought a culmination to my Fall Quarter class, in which I received an "A." Thank goodness. As I told my professor, going back to school almost 20 years after the original college experience, I had something to prove to myself, and the "A" confirms that I'm where I should be, and deserve to be.

* Thanksgiving was nice, including seeing my brother and my soon-to-be sister in law. We had a wonderful meal, good conversation, and lots of laughter.

* The end of November also heralded my 17th wedding anniversary. I'm STILL surprised that Juggling Freak picked me, and even more grateful that he's managed to put up with me after 17 years.

* The beginning of December brought torrential rain to our area, which put a dismal, gloomy mood on everything until it lifted. The kids at school were stir-crazy due to no outside time, and we were all champing at the bit to get vacation started.

* Our higher-up muckety-mucks tell us right before Christmas Break what a dire financial strait we are in, and make decisions to cut costs wherever possible, leaving people to freak out about losing their jobs right before Christmas. No firm decisions are made about who, specifically, or what programs get the ax, but we know it's there, looming over us.

* School ends on the 18th of December, and everyone is relieved to have some break time coming.

* Offspring, Juggling Freak, and I spend Christmas Eve with my mother; Christmas morning at our own house; and head off to his mother's for Christmas Day lunch. Many presents were opened, and much joy was shared. We had steaks and baked potatoes at my mother's, and we went out for our traditional Japanese meal with his mother. (That particular tradition was begun because his mother can burn Jell-O, and we'd like NOT to spend the holidays sequestered near the Porcelain Throne.) Christmas also confirms that Offspring is, indeed, one spoiled child. Spoiled, but hopefully, not rotten.

* We make a quick blitz trip to TheCityOfMyBirth to see my father, uncle, and Grandmother. Grandma is 90 years old, and getting to the point where I worry about how many more Christmases with her we'll have. So, we go up for one night, and pop in on her to give her our best and let her know that we are thinking about her. My father takes us to dinner, and we all hatch plans for my brother's wedding in May. All other family is occupied, so no other meet-ups manage to happen. (All of my mother's family are located there as well -- uncles, aunts, and assorted cousins.)

* We return home yesterday, getting slowed down on I-95 South several times by absolutely nothing. This is frustrating and gives me a tension headache. I stripped all the linens off our beds, and we settle down for the night.

* On tap for today was a trip to the optometrist for JF. He's having trouble with night driving and it looks like his previous prescription is no longer cutting it. Turns out he needs bifocals, which he jokes makes him feel old. Heck, as long as he can see, I wouldn't care WHAT kind of glasses they are!

* My elbow has been bothering me for days -- I was diagnosed with epicondylitis about 8 or so months ago, and it hadn't bothered me much until last week. The pain has gotten steadily worse, and now I'm constantly hugging that arm to my side. Squeezing the nozzle to get gas yesterday was excruciating, so it's off to the doctor for me on Thursday. Oh, joy.

You're all caught up now. Any questions? There WILL be a quiz later, which will count for 35% of your grade, so ask now if you're unclear on anything. :)

Too Epic For Words

2009-11-30T19:39:00.000-05:00

Love it! Must have it on repeat, all the time!

JF found this for me, and siad it was eminently bloggable, and so it is!

Strange Happenings

2009-11-22T17:18:00.003-05:00

JF and I were watching TV in bed early last night, just being lazy on a chilly (to us) and rainy Saturday, when suddenly, we heard a loud "THUMP!" outside on our front walkway. Now, our house is surrounded by trees -- so much so, that if you try to Google Earth our house, you see one sliver of house, and mostly trees -- and we often hear pinecones thudding to earth during windy days. But, this wasn't a pinecone. It would have had to have been a giganto-cone in order to make the thud we heard.

JF went to the front door to investigate. "Uh....hon? Could you come here?" I got up and went to the front door, only to see JF with his nose pressed against the glass of the storm door. "It was a raccoon!, " he said, and pointed out towards the rainy night beyond our front steps. Lying on our walkway was a very stunned middle-sized raccoon. At first, we thought he had fallen off of our roof. This was a likely scenario, as we've seen raccoons up there before, drawn by the cat food we left outside for Blackie, our extra kitteh, and by the honey birdseed cake we hang in the big cedar tree right at the front of our house.

The poor little guy tried to stand up, but his hind leg wasn't working properly, and he fell over. He struggled to get oriented for a few minutes. JF and I both felt bad because we wanted to help him, but there was no way of knowing if he'd attack in his pained state, or if he was rabid or not. He seemed fairly calm, but then again, so did Cujo at first. I walked off to go to the bathroom, and JF wandered around to make sure both of the kittehs were safely inside. When we came back to the storm door, Mister Raccoon had disappeared. JF checked in the yard, all of the shrubs, and under both of our cars -- no raccoon. He was not moving very fast, so he probably didn't venture across the street.... As we sat there, pondering where he went, a large SPLAT! hit the pavement. It looked like vomit, to be honest. JF traced the trajectory, and up in the cedar tree, he saw four pairs of glowing eyes staring back at him.

We think maybe Mr. Raccoon was up in the tree to begin with, and fell out somehow. Maybe the branches were slippery from the rain. And, our cedar tree exudes this orange-y colored jelly instead of sap, so maybe he slipped on that. After his fall, he crawled back up the tree to where his "family" was, so they could take care of him. We think the vomit-y stuff was either him being sick after the fact, or a warning for us not to get too close, or it could have even been excrement, where he literally got the crap knocked out of him.

We just hope he's okay. I can just hear the raccoon gossip network..."Frank got so drunk the other night, he fell right out of the tree! Scared some poor human family out of their minds! That'll teach him to drink that cheap malt liquor!"

My Time Is My Own Again

2009-11-18T22:53:00.002-05:00

My final exam was tonight, and I am now finished with Fall Quarter! Of course, I will have to wait for the "official" grades, but I'm pretty sure I made an "A" on the final -- only missed one question (worth one-half of a point) out of the 50 questions, and that means that I make an "A" in the course! Sweet!

I have a long break, thank all the gods who are and ever were. We don't begin Winter Quarter until January 4th! That gives me a good bit of time to get rested and grow back the clumps of hair that I've pulled out during this quarter. My class was interesting, but it's hard to go sit in a classroom for two and a half hours after you've worked a full day.

Major, major props go out to JF who kept the family fed and in clean clothing during this quarter. I knew there were many reasons that I loved him, but he worked a full day EVERY DAY to come home and clean, wash dishes and clothes, and feed us every Monday, Wednesday, and some jam-packed Thursdays. Thank you, love. You are special to me, in many, many ways, and this is only one of them

I will keep you all updated to the official stats once they come in, and I expect to be blogging (and on Facebook) more now that I'm not buried under a mountain of school stuff.

Only In My Hometown

2009-11-04T14:55:00.003-05:00

My city is totally screwy. Things happen here that do not happen in "normal" places. I think it's a combination of all the liquor we collectively imbibe, the funky art-school aura, and the damned humidity.

Here's a small example of what I'm talking about:

This photo was taken a few weeks ago at a Mickey D's in my town. Now, either the workers are a) too goofy to notice they've misspelled their own item, or b) did it on purpose, in which case they're out of a job, or c) someone else tampered with the sign. Sadly, all given choices are within the realm of possibility.

When you all think I exaggerate about life in this little burg, look at this picture, and think again....

Not Dead Yet

2009-10-27T19:52:00.002-04:00

I'm sorry that I have been posting even less than normal lately, but I seem to have no time at all. School is eating up my days, and most of my nights. All is going well on the college front (I got an A on my midterm -- hooray!) but we're heading down the home stretch towards finals. This means more studying and more assignments.

I spent today at home sick. Woke up this morning with a 101-degree fever and some stomach-churning. After being sick one time, the nausea thankfully subsided. Now I'm just left with the odd fever spike and a feeling like I have a box of Triscuits stuck up my nose.

Despite the yuck, I had an assignment to write and upload to my professor before class tomorrow. I'm a little mad at Blackboard -- they've removed the automatic grade average (the "weighted total") at the bottom, though this may be in my best interest, since I checked it rather obsessively. I got the assignment finished and uploaded, and made dinner (tacos) and some cupcakes for my troop's Birthday Party for Juliette Low on Thursday. Instead of posting, I should be working on my next assignment, but I am officially putting that off until Friday night.

Currently, we are observing a time-honored family tradition: the Annual Watching of The Great Pumpkin. This is a ritual strictly observed in our household, with non-believers being labeled as "commies." Offspring expressed an interest in NOT watching The Great Pumpkin this year, and her father questioned her paternity, and my truthfulness as her mother. There was even some mild cursing. JF then turned on BOTH televisions to maximize the Pumpkin-y goodness, and proceeded to insist that tradition be observed and maintained. I will keep you posted on whether Offspring remains shunned from the family unit or not.

RBoC

2009-10-13T16:41:00.003-04:00

Random Bullets of Crap:

-- Tomorrow is midterm. How the hell is it midterm already?!? I'm not really cramming this quarter because I feel a lot more sure with the subject matter. So far, my GPA is a 90.87, which I'm pretty happy with. I am wondering what tomorrow's midterm will hold, but since we take our exams through Blackboard, I will be able to see my score as soon as I submit the exam. So, I'll either be happy tomorrow evening, or totally bummed.

-- School (the other school -- the one I get paid to go to...) is going pretty well. Or, well -- I should say it's going well in MY case, though how others around me are feeling, I have no idea. The last two years have taught me that I no longer have the capacity to judge what "they" might be feeling one way or the other. That, and maybe sometimes change is not only good, but necessary.

-- Thursday is my birthday, and Offspring is taking macabre delight in torturing me with the fact that I'm a year away from forty. I now regret doing the same thing to my own parents. I see now how annoying that truly is. And, I feel creakier with every passing day.

-- Tonight I have a meeting that has all the hallmarks of DOOM! about it. I'm hoping that all the players involved in this mess can find some common ground and that it won't suck majorly. May the fates be kind to us all.....

-- I talked to my mother this afternoon, and my aunt who has brain cancer is doing well. She's scheduled to take part in a clinical trial starting soon, and then chemo and/or radiation by the end of the year. She's doing amazingly well, and I am so glad to have her not only still with us, but almost as good as new. I got an email from her a few days ago, and was so pleased that she was not only out of the hospital but also emailing and sounding like her normal self. Modern medicine is miraculous, and I am so thankful for that.

-- Offspring's been sick, and now JF's been sidelined, too. It's most likely not swine flu, Thank God. Stuffy noses, headaches, and slight temperatures. Just your normal ickiness of the season.

Not much else to report, so I'm off to make dinner and sit with my family for a bit before I have to head out for this meeting. Everyone have a good week!

Completely and Utterly Boned

2009-10-07T22:15:00.002-04:00

This is one of those times that I HATE having a pseudonymous blog -- I have a situation that I'm dying to discuss with you all, and hash out in the smallest of details, but if I do choose to talk about it, I have to be so vague and non-specific about everything that I end up sounding like either a) a bad philosophy student, or b) stoned out of my gourd.

I'll give it a shot, nonetheless.

I have a personal situation brewing right now that is going to be bad, no matter how you slice it. Feelings are going to be hurt, people will feel betrayed, and friendships will end. I can see this all ahead very clearly, but am powerless to stop it, or even to minimize the impact. Sort of how time seems to slow down when you're in a collision -- you can't avoid it, and you can't help but see it as almost a dispassionate observer.

What makes matters worse, however, is that I've been asked to take charge of the situation. To helm the sinking ship, as it were. I can't do it because of time constraints anyway, but to be asked to take something that's broken and bleeding and FIX it? And to be asked by some of the people that broke it in the first place?

It would be a hard enough job to do on its own, much less while trying to mend the damage, soothe injured spirits and feelings, and bring all of the parties left standing back together as a cohesive whole. I can't do it. Not only because I have too much already demanding my time, but also because I think that there just might not be healing to be had from some of this.

All I can say is: you are a poor friend when you only look out for number one. If you aren't willing to give a hand to people you SAY you care about, then you don't deserve their friendship.

My Time Is No Longer My Own

2009-10-02T16:18:00.002-04:00

You know, they say that when you have kids, your time is no longer your own. I had some of that when Offspring was small -- she needed more attention then than she does now, and these days all she really wants me for is to re-up her texting on her cell phone. But, it seems like lately, I've been gone more than I've been home.

I have class on Mondays and Wednesdays after work, so I leave home at around eight am, and I don't return until 8pm. Thursday afternoons are my Girl Scout meetings, so that's at least 5:30 pm. This week, we had a "field trip" on Tuesday evening, which was a one-off thing, and tonight Offspring has HER Girl Scout meeting. This comes on top of last week's commando trip to CityOfMyBirth to see my aunt in the hospital.

Forgive me if I'm feeling a little tired.

My class is going well. I HAD a hundred-point average until Wednesday's quiz blew that out of the water. Now, it's an 89.87, but I expect that to go back up. Hopefully. Though, like last quarter, I'll be happy with a "B." I'd LOVE an "A", but I'll settle for a "B". More importantly, I like the class a lot, and I'm enjoying the back-and-forth with the other students.

I have 14 Girl Scouts this year. Only three are new, but I think they've got lots of personality, and I will enjoy my time with them. This means that we'll have a whole new crop of girls next year! It will be sad to see these babies move on, but it will also be fun getting to know a whole new bunch of girls.

Right now, I'm making Mexican Lasagna for tonight's Mexican-inspired potluck dinner for Offspring's Girl Scout meeting, and then I plan on coming home to clean up a little before Offspring has her friend over tomorrow for a Movie Extravaganza. Got to straighten up the living room, and then I plan to fossilize my butt to my bed and watch all the stuff that's been accumulating on the TiVo -- two eps of "Heroes", "The Other Boleyn Girl", and some other random stuff. And sleep. Lots and lots of sleep.

Kollidge Makes Us Smartical

2009-09-13T16:59:00.003-04:00

Offspring has used the word "smartical" since she was small -- her flip way of dismissing all those Gifted classes, and downplaying her intelligence. I guess she gets it honestly, as her father and I both do the same sort of thing, albeit in our own ways.

JF was walking past one of the dorms on my campus the other day, and noticed that the painters had been out, smartening things up for the influx of new students. They were painting directional arrows on the asphalt to guide students to appropriate parking. Apparently, those painters do not qualify under the banner of "smartical." Can any of YOU make any sense of this, because I sure can't.....

They Have Created A Monster!

2009-09-03T21:44:00.003-04:00

So, in my new role for this school year, I am leaning sign language. The kids are delighted to be teaching ME, rather than the other way around.

I picked up the REALLY important stuff the first two days: "more", "cookie", "please", "sorry", "Good morning", "bus", "what", "which", "sit", and so forth.

Today, they started teaching me the signs for various foods: potato, bread, hot dog, taco, broccoli, banana, strawberry, spaghetti, oatmeal, blueberry, soup, cereal, lemon, bacon, toast, sandwich, cheese... I did pretty well when quizzed right after the fact, but the real kicker will be when I remember them tomorrow, or even a month from now. I've been told to prepare myself mentally for a "test" tomorrow.

I've been coming home and signing all that I can remember to JF and Offspring, and tonight at the dinner table, the following conversation occurred:

Offspring: (as she's walking to the dining room from her bedroom) "What's for dinner?"

JF: "Food!"

Me: (as she takes her seat) "Chicken, potatoes, and mixed vegetables. I know the signs for chicken and potatoes, and I know carrots and corn, but not peas."

(I proceed to demonstrate the newly-learned signs.)

Offspring: "Mom, you know -- I don't really care. I had enough of learning already today."

Feel the love, people.

-----------------------------

Speaking of school, we had a lock-down today because apparently come carjackers were in the area next to our school, and they were armed. After a harrowing afternoon involving many cops and police dogs and helicopters in the area, the all-clear was finally given. None of our students was harmed, and hopefully, no one got totally freaked by the experience, but stuff like that REALLY makes me nervous as all get-out.

Glad everything worked out.

Made the Grade!

2009-08-31T17:47:00.000-04:00

My final grade for the summer quarter was an 87.84! While I would have *preferred* an "A", I'm content with a high "B." Not bad after 20 years away from college, no?

School, More School, and Other Assorted Stuff

2009-08-26T22:17:00.004-04:00

Okay, so my first day back at work was today, and boy howdy -- was it HARD to get up with the alarm clock this morning! This was compounded by the fact that our lovely kitteh decided to howl every 15 seconds starting at 1am. JF finally drug his poor, tired self out of bed and made her lay with him on the couch. Of course, this was what she wanted all along, so it wasn't too much of an imposition on her.

The alarm rang at o'dark-thirty this morning, and I stumbled into the shower, bleary-eyed. (In the summer, I sleep as late as I can possibly manage. That's the only benefit that I can see to having a teenager -- sometimes, she sleeps even later than I do. And, if by some miracle she's awakens before me, she smooshes her butt into the crevice in the couch cushions and plays XBOX without bothering to wake me. It's at those moments that I am SUPREMELY glad that she no longer craves my company every second of the day. Where was I? Oh, yes -- the shower.)

I get into the shower, and am promptly clonked on the head by the hand-held nozzle while simultaneously having my back scalded by excruciatingly hot water because the last person to use the shower didn't turn that knob all the way off. What a way to start off the day! I'm just glad that I wasn't clonked in the jaw! (Speaking of jaw -- I was supposed to go see the oral surgeon about my TMJ, and his office called and said that they checked my insurance, and it doesn't cover TMJ. So, if I wanted to still go to that consult, it would be $568 out of pocket, and we don't do financing, thank you very much. Guess I'll suffer with a sore jaw for a while...)

I get to school, and go to my new assignment, and we find that our two adjoining classrooms have been reduced into one. And all the furniture from BOTH classrooms are now shoved, higgledy-piggledy, into one room. We spend all day moving furniture from one spot to another, trying to get most of it to fit. We worked our tails off in that room today, and it STILL looks like an educational supply store threw up and then exploded in there.

I'm tired, and I want to go to bed. The sleep I *didn't* get last night is now catching up to me. My jaw is beginning to ache, despite judicious application of ice cream, so it's off to get the ibuprofen with the naproxen sodium chaser, and then lights out. I have another full day of furniture wrangling and shelf clearing ahead of me.

I have yet to get my final grade for my class, but it should be posted some time tomorrow. I will post the final grade if I haven't committed seppuku. I have three more days in the classroom before kids arrive, and two weeks until I start my next class. So, the next few months are going to be OUTRAGEOUSLY busy, with work every day, school on Monday and Wednesday nights, and Girl Scouts on Thursdays and the occasional adult meeting on Tuesdays. If you don't see me for a while, check in to make sure that I haven't imploded.

Commander Bun-Bun

2009-08-18T17:31:00.003-04:00

In our house, we love animals. We are mainly cat people, though we like other types of animals, but all we co-habit with is kittehs.

JF and I both had dogs and cats while growing up, and the living with a dog wasn't something we really wanted to repeat. Not that there's anything at all wrong with dogs -- I guess we just find them too high-maintenance. Our cat doesn't really require much in the way of output on our part -- feed her, change her litter, and occasionally snuggle when she's in the mood. She was easy to take care of when we had a toddler running around the house.

So, the other day, Offspring and I happened to go into the pet store to get some dog cookies for my mother's Westies. We were going to take a trip out to Mom's while they were away to make sure the house was still habitable. Mom had someone coming in daily to make sure they had food and water, but she said she'd feel better if she knew that there was someone who cared about them to come and check on them. While we were in the pet store, there was a display full of the cutest little bunnies you have ever seen! They were all playful, and hopping around like mad. I immediately spied this one brown bunny in the middle of the cage, who was just standing on her hind legs, looking up at me. I think that's when I lost my heart to her.

JF wanted no part of bunnies. He said that bunnies stink, and that if we got a bunny, he was claiming no responsibility for it. AT ALL. The bunny would be our bunny -- Offspring's and mine -- and he would not clean up after any bunny, period. He just wanted that clear. Yep. Got it. Our bunny. Crystal clear.

After we came back from visiting Mom's dogs, we went to the local PetSmart. I got a rabbit starter kit compete with cage, bedding, treats, toys, food bowl, and water bottle. We took all the bun stuff home, and set it up underneath Offspring's loft bed. Once Offspring had cleaned up her room, we went back out to the small pet store to pick out the bunny.

The little brown bunny was still there, and I asked the clerk to let me hold her. I was just wanting to see if she was as sweet as she seemed. Offspring wanted one of the black-and-white bunnies, but I was all about Little Brown Bunny. She *was* as sweet as she seemed. She immediately snuggled up to my shoulder, and burrowed her face into my neck. I could feel her whiskers tickling my neck, and I was a goner. Offspring held her while I paid for her, and talked baby talk all the way back to the house to her. "It's okay sweetie -- we're almost home. One more turn!"

We named her Hershey. She's the cutest thing, EVER. The geniuses at the pet store didn't know whether she was male or female; "She came in a box marked female, but sometimes they're wrong..." And they had no clue how big she'd get, or how old she was. So, we're going with "female", and "still pretty young" because she's so little. She fits in your hand, and stretched from the end of your palm to the tip of your middle finger, so basically one hand length. So far, she like strawberries, and loves to lick Offspring's fingers. She's very placid, and content to roam around her cage or snuggle with you as long as you like. I guess I was missing the snuggling. Now, I have it in spades!

Surgery Update

2009-08-11T10:20:00.002-04:00

I am recovering nicely, and expect the worst to be past me. The surgery itself, I don't remember at all. I just lay there in the chair as they hooked up my IV, oxygen, and blood pressure cuff. They asked me a few questions, and shortly after, the surgeon came in, ran two drugs into my IV line, and that was all she wrote. It seemed like only a few minutes, and they were hauling me up out of the chair to head to recovery.

This time around, I was feeling a lot less "out of it", and apparently wasn't talking nonsense. Or at least, none that anyone told me about. As JF was leaving to pull the car around, the nurse walked him out with my post-surgery instructions, and I heard her tell him, "The lights are on, but nobody's home", meaning I was still under the influence of the meds despite how lucid I seemed. Hey! I take exception to that! I came home, read for a bit, and once JF had loaded me up with my prescriptions, I napped off and on.

Woke up a little more sore than I expected today, but that was still well within normal range. I still feel like I got punched in the jaw, but it's not like I got punched in the jaw by Ali. It's more like I got an uppercut from a clumsy bodybuilder -- one who's strong enough to put some hurt on you, but uncoordinated enough not to land the blow to maximum effect.

The only good thing about this is that I only have one wisdom tooth left, so if that one has to come out, I shouldn't have to see the oral surgeon ANY MORE! He's a nice guy and everything, but I hate dental work. At least with him, over the actual dentist, I'm asleep for it all!

Paging Dr. Freud

2009-08-07T22:29:00.003-04:00

Some of you might already know that I'm preparing for some oral surgery on Monday. Nothing too extreme, but I have an impacted wisdom tooth that's got to come out, and I wanted to get it done and over with before I had to report back to school. It wouldn't be good to start off the year with a requesting a couple of sick days.

I'm a little freaked out about surgery, but this will be the second time I've had this procedure, so it's not quite so scary. I remember thinking last time, just before the drugs kicked in..."I *really* don't want to do this!" But, in no time at all, it was over and I had cheeks that looked like a bad Marlon Brando "Godfather" impersonator. But, then again, I remember thinking the exact same thought as Offspring's head was crowning during birth. "I REALLY don't want to do this!!!" Funny how passing a bowling ball-sized object through a drinking straw-sized portion of your anatomy can play havoc with your emotions.

But, with the worry of impending surgery, I've been having a sort-of recurring dream that I've had for many years: the losing of the teeth. Now, when I say "losing of the teeth", I mean not just losing a tooth here and there, but very VIVID dreams of doing normal activity and suddenly every single tooth in my head falls out. Fine one minute, and the next: poof! Toothless crone.

The details differ from dream to dream, but the ultimate outcome is that I end up with no teeth in one fell swoop. In one dream, I remember getting up like normal, and heading to the bathroom to brush my teeth, and having the toothbrush knock out a tooth or two, and the rest following like dominoes. So, there I am, with toothpaste dripping down my chin and a heap of what look like white Chiclets filling up my palm.

Other variations involve me thinking a tooth is loose, and going to push on it with a finger, and having that tooth and all the rest fall out into the sink. Or, the one where I bite into a crisp apple, and draw back, only to find all the teeth are stuck in said apple. Or the one where I'm just suddenly able to spit teeth into my palm like you'd spit out watermelon seeds.

Crazy, right? Back away slowly, people.

I know Freudian Dream Analysis would say that I'm vain and worried about the loss of my beauty, but since I feel like you can't really lose what you never had, that's not so much of an option. (And, yes -- I DO have self-esteem issues, but this isn't so much a dig at myself as it is a sad fact. It's not like I was going to be on the cover of any magazines any time soon. Anyway...)

I even talked to a guy who had a "dream analysis" blog. Apparently, it's a pretty common dream, and it could also relate to your sense of confidence, and how others see you. I mean, a nice smile (or a not-so-nice one) is something most people notice right off the bat. So, if you lose all your teeth, you might be embarrassed to face people, and your confidence would take a hit. Or, it may convey a sense of powerlessness -- you may feel that things are out of your control, or that your voice isn't being heard.

Whatever the root cause is, come Monday, I will be one tooth less. Maybe I should talk to the dentist now about a set of dentures -- sort of a preemptive strike. Best to be prepared, just in case.

Wrong On So Many Levels

2009-08-01T21:51:00.003-04:00

Offspring has outgrown so many things lately that it's getting hard to keep track. She once used to BEG us to tune the satellite radio to Radio Disney, but that has long gone the way of the dodo. I don't think I've seen my delicate flower of womanhood in a dress in about 2 years, at the least. She's dropped cartoons and Disney Channel shows for Japanese anime shows, which she discusses at great lengths with her friends. Also long gone are the crafty projects that we used to do together and the little-girl fascination with nail polish and horses. These days, the nail polish is black, and the only horses I see are the ones that she draws getting hacked to bits in samurai battles. (Well, maybe that last is a bit of an exaggeration. They aren't "samurai" battles, they're demons who fight using parts of their souls. And, generally, there aren't any horses to speak of.)

We used to watch a lot of kids TV -- anyone who has kids of a certain age know exactly what I mean when I say I watched a full boatload of "Blue's Clues". Offspring had certain videotapes that she watched with approaching near-religious fervor. Among those tapes (and see; it was so long ago that they were TAPES, not DVDs.) was "Big Bird Goes to Japan", which might have been the starting point for the love of all things Japanese she currently exhibits; and a bajillion "Rugrats" episodes. Her most favorite, though, were the Disney Sing-Along tapes. We watched the Christmas and Halloween ones at least once a week, and usually a lot more often than that. We actually wore out VHS copies of both of those tapes, requiring new ones because the screaming without them was hideous to hear.

Then there were the shows that we tried desperately to keep her away from because they made her father and I want to shove icepicks deep within our own brains. "Barney" was pretty much universally hated, and was something she only watched at other people's houses. I think we had her convinced that Barney tapes could only live at other people's houses, and we weren't allowed to own them. I particularly hated "Caillou," and still do , even unto this day. He's such a whiny little prat that I want to smack him. I can't have it on at school, or the red haze descends, and pretty soon I'm being called in the office for yelling inappropriate things at the TV and waving appendages in the air that should not be waved when children are about.

Juggling Freak's favorite show had to be The Big Comfy Couch. He had a serious thing for Loonette the Clown, and even today will make lewd comments about her, and the size of her...um...melons. (Hey, I said it was wrong on so many levels! I warned you ahead of time!) Instead of walking around the house singing, "...on the big, comfy couch!", JF walked about singing the praises of "...the big-breasted clown!" I used to chuck small toys and pacifiers at him when I heard his more-risque version of that theme song, but worse BY FAR was his fascination with the Clock Rug Stretch. It was embarrassing to see a grown man drool and say, "C'mon nine-fifteen!"

It makes me glad that Offspring outgrew that particular show.....

Trying Not to Dwell

2009-07-23T18:54:00.004-04:00

I've been managing to stay busy this summer, which has been a blessing in itself. Not only does it keep me from becoming so sedentary that I threaten to petrify like a fossil, it has also had the added benefit of giving me very little time to dwell on things.

Those of you who have known me for any decent length of time know a little bit about my backstory; know a little bit about my past. You know that I raped when I was 20 years old. April and June are always hard months for me, because I tend to dwell on the rape and the aftermath. June is especially hard because I tend to give in to "what if"-itis -- that little mind-screw I do to myself where I obsess over the abortion and the child that would have resulted. Would it be a boy or a girl? Would she/he look like me, or like the rapist? Who would I be now? Who would the child be? Could I love it enough? Would I have kept it? Keeping myself from thinking about that child, who now be old enough to graduate from high school.

Probably the worst part of all of this is the guilt that I lay at my own doorstep in the whole sorry situation. I was raped by someone I knew, someone I was dating. And, for some people, "date rape" just doesn't register with them. Generally, these are the same people who don't think a man can rape his wife, simply because there's a history and a marriage certificate there, but that's neither here nor there. There is still a lot of stigma associated with rape, and especially with date rape. There's always an air of "what did you do to deserve it?" when you tell people that you were date raped.

I try not to think about it, but it was a very formative experience, occurring at a time when most young people are moving out of the family home and trying their wings for the first time. When they are beginning to forge their own path in this world, and to let go of their dependence on Mom and Dad and to live as adults themselves. I was in college, working hard. I was taking a full complement of classes, and was working three jobs; two at the college, and every shift I could pick up at the local movie theater. I had plans to move into my own place with a couple of friends, and we were looking forward to freedom. Looking forward to being adults on our own; and on our own terms.

And then, all of a sudden, I wasn't. I was frozen in place by the rape. Time stopped for me. I was scared to go out, scared to walk across the quad by myself. Checking the locks on the windows and doors compulsively, and imagining every shadow was closing in on me. I was never very self-confident to begin with, and after the rape, I had virtually nothing at all. No confidence, no energy, no bravery. It was all gone. He stole so much more than just sex from me. My safety, my sense of wonder, my sex. Never being thin to begin with, I began to hide under multiple layers of clothes until I looked as round as I was tall. Maybe all those layers would protect me, or at least discourage any other would-be attacker. I became asexual, hiding under layers, and behind a curtain of shaggy hair.

During the counseling session I had to attend before the abortion, the therapist postulated that maybe I "stay fat" because it's safe. That I deliberately try to make myself unattractive so that I'm not a target for other men, other predators. This used to make me sad, thinking that my dislike of myself was so strong that I would deliberately choose to alienate myself from the rest of the world through obesity. And then, one day, I thought, "Fuck you! I was fat WHEN I was raped! It didn't seem to matter so much to him!" And that's because rape isn't about attractiveness, it's about power and control. It's about being able to bend someone so totally to your will, whether it's through manipulation or aggression. In my case, it was a sneak attack, but the mind-screw that came with it afterward was sheer power through manipulation. So, not only did I get raped, I also got fucked over by the system, too. Being fat never made me feel safe. It still doesn't. It makes me feel unloveable and undervalued, but that's a whole other kettle of fish.

So, I've spent my time working this summer, concentrating on the class that I'm taking, and trying not to dwell on the things that usually pull me down into the mire around this time of year. Trying not to pity myself, and play the what-if game. Instead, I thank God for the things that I do have, and feel grateful that I made it through to the other side, rough though the journey was. It has shaped me, both for better and for worse. I try not to think about the child that never will be. And, most of all, I try to forgive myself and let go.

Migraines Suck!

2009-07-17T11:06:00.003-04:00

As if many of you didn't know already, I am here to inform you of the vast suckitutde of migraine headaches. Never say I'm not informative.

I've been on migraine medication for about two months now; stuff that was SUPPOSED to not only lessen the severity of my migraines, but also to lessen the frequency of said migraines. I am here to formally call bullshit on the severity aspect. Any time you can vomit on yourself and not really give a damn because your brain is threatening to explode, I don't think you can chalk that one in the "less severe" column.

Also, this medication was supposed to free me from the cares and worries of migraine headaches, and it hasn't done that, either. Damn those lying advertising people! I would say "heads will roll!" at this point, but I think my own head did enough of that last night, and I really don't wish it on anyone else. Even to the people I dislike intensely.

In Celebration of 100 Years

2009-07-10T21:16:00.004-04:00

Most of you who are long-time readers will remember that I am a Girl Scout Leader, and I'm about to start my 9th year as an adult volunteer. I have spent quite a few years devoted to helping the young women of my area become proud, strong women of tomorrow, and I've been grateful for the opportunity to do it.

The Girl Scouts of the USA was founded in 1912, and that means we're getting very close to celebrating our centennial anniversary. The Girl Scout Advocacy Network is trying to drum up support for a bill introduced to the get the US Mint to release a special $1 commemorative coin.

If you are so inclined, please follow this link, and ask your local officials to help get this bill passed.

http://www.girlscouts4girls.org/girlscouts/home/

We will need 290 House co-sponsors, and 67 in the Senate. Congress only approves 2 coins a year, and things need to happen quickly if we are to meet the 2012 deadline. If you care about a Girl Scout, please help. Thank you.

(The Public Service Announcement is now over. You may all return to your normal websurfing.)

More To Love

2009-07-02T19:38:00.000-04:00

I'm not a reality-TV kind of gal. In the main, I don't care for reality TV at all. I never got into American Idol, and I haven't ever seen an episode of Survivor or The Hills. (I mainly watch Joel McHale of The Soup trash The Hills.)

I will admit to an unhealthy fixation to Bravo's Top Chef, though I don't really consider that a Reality TV show. I got really into TC late in season 2, so I didn't really have a vested interest in who won. But, when Season 3 rolled around, I was there with bells on. My favorite didn't make it to the top three (C.J.), but once the three was revealed, I was pulling for Dale. When Season Four started, I was pulling for Richard Blais from the start. I thought he was great, and loved his adventuresome spirit. JF liked Stephanie, the eventual winner; so we argued the merits of each back and forth all season long.

I will also confess to a guilty pleasure of America's Got Talent, simply because I adore the total train-wreckiness of it. You never know what's going to turn up next on AGT, and there are often some very talented people hidden among the dreck. Unfortunately, there's a lot more dreck than gold, and I'm often totally blown away by how much confidence people have in themselves and their often dubious "talents." For example, a woman got up on stage the other night, claiming that everyone she meets is just astounded and in awe of her talents -- and then she barked at people. It was as freaky as if you'd awoken to realize that you live inside a Salvador Dalí painting.

At any rate, on the Fox network, I noticed a promo clip for an upcoming Reality show called "More to Love", featuring plus-sized women. The tagline screamed that the average American woman is about a size 12/14, and the average female reality show contestant is a size 2. Then the promo showcased lots of clips of the "More to Love" contestants, most of them crying and talking about how much they just want someone to love them how they are. Betcha dollars to donuts that the producers force the ladies to compete in either a) a humiliating eating contest of some sort, or b) a humiliating swimsuit competition. Or maybe both, if there's such a thing as summer ratings week.

I feel a fat rant (and my inner rage) building......

I don't know whether or not I can actually watch this series, knowing that it's most likely just another excuse to "poke fun at the fatties". I would love to hope that it will be a great show that showcases the fact that loveable and beautiful people come in all shapes and sizes and celebrates women who don't happen to fit society's very narrow standard of beauty, but somehow, I don't think it will be. Fox isn't exactly known for taking the high road.

The best I can hope for is that it's not too humiliating for the contestants, and for fat people in general. Most of you know by now how much I do not care for those who warp other people's opinions of themselves, and this seems to me to be a recipe for a whole huge honking slice of the demographic pie who will later need some serious therapy.

One Down, Nine To Go

2009-06-29T15:09:00.004-04:00

Well, week one of classes is finished. I've turned in my first two assignments, and taken the quiz on Unit One. Now, all I have to do is participate in the online discussions, start on Unit Two, and wait for my grades for Unit One to come in.

This class is proving a little harder than I expected. It's an Intro-level class, and I expected it to be a little more about the abstract -- more of an overview, really -- but we've jumped in with both feet. I'm a little out of my depth, as the subject matter is something I'm not familiar with at all. I'm enjoying it, at least when I'm not stressing about getting my assignments in via scanning and uploading and chewing my nails waiting for grades.

Going back to school after almost 20 years is frightening in how same and yet how different it all is. Maybe if I were actually on campus, it might strike me in a different way. Back in my day, "computer skills" consisted of programming, not uploading and file sharing and online text/video chats with your professor.

At any rate, it's nice to be back in school. If you're interested, I will keep all of you posted on what grades I get.
--------------------------------

Edited to add:
First set of grades are in, and I got a 93.34 on Quiz 1, a 100 on Quiz 2, and an 80 on my Unit One project. I'm still waiting on the grade for the classwork from Unit One, but I hope it will be a good one. I'm a bit bummed by the 80, but it's a decent grade, and I have room to improve. The thing about this class is that there's the practical knowledge to learn and the application of said knowledge, and my downfall was not applying all that I've absorbed from the text into applied knowledge. I have to work on that. But, I have to look at it this way -- I can only hope that that 80 is my lowest grade, and go from there. Not a bad start.

What In Hell Made Me Think I Could Do This?!?!

2009-06-20T17:48:00.002-04:00

School (college) starts on Monday. I have spent the latter part of this week getting ready for the start of Summer Term. School (elementary school) ended on Wednesday, and since then, I have had to focus away from my full-time job, and onto my soon-to-be-starting school (college.)

Yesterday, I had to go downtown to the main administrative building to get my student ID, even though I will be taking an online class. The reason that I went ahead and got the student ID was so that I could get into various buildings, should I need them, like the library, and the student center. I also took my husband to lunch, and then we went to pick up my textbooks and some of the supplies. My God, I had forgotten how freaking expensive college is! Thank God I had some of the necessary supplies here at home, or I'd be in deep doo-doo.

This morning, I finished up my online orientation, and the requisite assignments that that entailed, and printed out the 10-week syllabus. I looked over the first lesson, and went ahead and read the first 3 chapters in the textbook. My overwhelming thought now, is "what in hell have you gotten yourself into? Don't you know you're pushing 40? It's not like you're a coed who can cram all night and still function like a living human being during class during the day!" A good bet for your entertainment for the next 10 weeks would be to stay tuned and watch me self-flagellate daily. That, or spontaneously combust. Oy.

Whine/Anti-Whine

2009-06-10T16:50:00.002-04:00

Some of you lovely people read the Wednesday Whine, a sort of blog-Brigadoon that I've been involved with for quite a while. Some of you are not familiar with the concept, so I'll (briefly) explain:

A long time ago, a delightful bloggy friend named Phantom Scribbler hosted a weekly bitch-fest at her personal blog. It was a place where friends could complain and commiserate with each other over the joys and flops in their lives. It became a task too heavy for lovely PS, who allowed a collection of moderators to take over the idea and give it its own home. WW, as it is familiarly known, has been a great community, and I've greatly enjoyed taking part in it.

But, since I am colossally lazy, I have decided to repost here my submission for the WW, and this will keep all of you three dear readers updated on what's going on here at Chez KLee. Here follows my tale, told in whine/anti-whine format.

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W: I'm in a bad bad BAD situation at work. It hasn't been very much fun for several weeks. Tensions are high, and with only 2 days of school left, we're all testy and short tempered. But, most of the bad bad BAD situation makes me look bad to everyone else, even if that isn't actually the facts.

A/W: Got accepted back to school, so that mitigates some of the bad bad BAD stuff. I'm excited about it. It will allow me to mark off one of those things on my major "To Do" life lists.

W: Was supposed to have a scholarship to cover cost of tuition for Summer Term at said school, only to find a bill for almost 3K (that I seriously DON'T have) in the mail today. Uh.....guys?!? Hello?

A/W: If I am still going to school, it'll get my mom off my back. Plus, President Obama is urging people to further their education in times of economic crisis, so it's almost like I'm *helping!*

W: Am still sick. Not as sick as I was about a month ago, thank God. But, still sick. And, apparently, I now have high cholesterol, too. Thanks for that! Sickness involved almost accidentally overdosing on migraine drugs the other day, and a cyst on my neck that will have to be cut out at some point. Trying to save the day surgery for after school is done so I don't have to work or move during the recovery process.

A/W: At least I DIDN'T overdose, though I had double vision and serious nausea. And, I gotta figure that every day I'm not taking the Great Dirt Nap is a good day. So, yeah -- I'll count being alive among the anti-whines these days.

Maintaining Radio Silence

2009-05-17T20:03:00.000-04:00

Never fear, my faithful three readers -- I have not gone gentle into that good night. (When I go, there won't be anything *gentle* about it. I plan to go, kicking and screaming.)

I have been very busy, as the end of all school years tend to be.

*We are winding up all of our end-of-the-year testing, and trying to tie up all the loose ends for the children who most likely won't be matriculating on to first grade. This is also usually the time where we have many visits from irate parents who want to harangue us, even though we've been telling them the same basic information since the first marking period. What do they expect when they don't bother to help their child(ren) with their school work? How can they say they're really surprised that little Johnny is failing kindergarten when we can't even get you to bring him to school every day, much less with pencils and crayons; and nevermind with completed homework? Anyway...it's the same song, every year.

*Offspring is going to be a rising eighth-grader, and with that comes the rush to get her portfolio together so she can audition for the Arts school here in town in the winter for a entering freshman for the following year. We are pushing hard at her to really work on her artwork, but I don't think it's sinking in on her. I really want her to get in this school -- it's fabulous academically, and the potential for her personal growth there would be incredible. The options left open to us if she's NOT accepted I don't even want to fathom.

*Speaking of school -- I have applied to go back to school myself. More on that as it develops, but that's in the extreme infancy stage right now. Haven't even been accepted, but hopefully that's nothing major to worry over.

*I often joke about living in the tropics, but my joke was made real today by the monsoon JF and I experienced as we went out to do the grocery shopping. We headed out to Sam's, and by the time we got there, the water was coming down so hard you could barely see, there was hail the size of Tic Tacs, and the wind was blowing us around like a candy wrapper in an updraft. JF clambered over the backseat like a monkey to get the big golf umbrella for me while he took the teeny collapsible one. We might as well have not even used the blasted brollies for all the good they did us! We were soaked to the skin within minutes, the the wind turned my heavy umbrella into kinetic sculpture. Funnily enough, the small umbrella survived unscathed. The employees at Sam's got a hearty giggle out of our drowned-rat appearance, and they even made a sale with the strategically-placed beach towels at the front entrance. JF snickered endlessly at the fact the umbrellas did nothing to help us, and wandered around muttering about "great big old fat rain."

*We had a Girl Scout appreciation dinner the other night for the leaders in our local unit, and the decision was made to hold it at our local Carrabba's. Now, I'm not a fan of Carrabba's, and I wouldn't have gone except for the fact that it was our end-of-the-year, hand out all the certificates of appreciation type of thing. Our Service Unit Manager called three weeks ahead of time, and reserved their back room so that our large party would not disturb any of the other patrons. She called back the day before our gathering to confirm. Everyting seemed fine -- they had us down for 35 people at 7pm. I was the first to arrive the next evening, at 6:30, in order to do a little bit of decorating on the tables. I was told they were getting our tables together. When the others arrived, they tried to direct us to tables in the middle of the restaurant. They'd given the tables in the back room away. To two people. We asked to speak with the manager. He refused to asked them to move, or to help us in any way. We explained that we'd had that room reserved for over 3 weeks, and we'd asked for that room SPECIFICALLY because we'd be making presentations, and getting up and down a lot, and we didn't want to disturb other diners. He still refused to give us the room. We were on the brink of walking; 25 irate PAYING customers; when one of our ladies sweet-talks him into shooing the parties in the back room out of there as quickly as he can without being ugly AND free desserts for all of us. As we're shown to the table, the hostess is as rude as she can possibly be to me. I would have been happier anywhere else. I will NEVER go to Carrabba's again. I sense an angry letter in my future.

That's pretty much all that's going on here. Offspring took a Girl Scout trip to Orlando this weekend, so I'm just waiting for the call that her bus is trundling up the turnpike, and I should hie my fanny up to the meeting place to fetch her. Stay alive out there, people!

Sick

2009-05-06T19:46:00.002-04:00

I woke up this morning at 4:14am to a raging migraine. While this was distressing, the worst of it is that I had just been to the doctor on Monday to complain about headache pain. I've been having a low-grade chronic headache for about a month, which scares the bejeezus out of me.

The doc has me taking what is actually an anti-seizure medication, but which has been used successfully to minimize migraine symptoms and severity. I've been taking the meds for 2 days now. Not even hardly enough time to get into the bloodstream, much less do me any good.

So, the migraine this morning. It was bad. Really bad. Contemplating going-to-the-hospital sort of bad. I took meds, which didn't help, and I vomited for about three hours straight. Now my throat is raw, and my whole body hurts from heaving.

I called in sick to work, which I'm *sure* earned me brownie points because we are currently undergoing standardized testing, and need every available body. Never mind the fact that I couldn't even function until early this afternoon, much less work and help administer an exam.

I hate being sick. I hate migraines.

Switching Teams

2009-04-28T16:46:00.003-04:00

I just read the amazing news that Senator Arlen Specter has switched his allegiance from the Republican to the Democratic party. His reasons for the move, he says, were due to increasing disagreement with viewpoints within his own party. Specter also said that he thought he would find it hard to be reelected, what with all the conservatives that are making up the Republican party these days.

What I find most stunning of all, though, was the quote from Republican Senate Party Leader Mitch McConnell. His opinion on the matter? He said, "... the switch posed a 'threat to the country', and "really relates to ... whether or not in the United States of America our people want the majority party to have whatever it wants, without restraint, without a check or balance."

Huh? You mean like what America has suffered under Bush for the last eight years? Including a war that's killing thousands of American lives and costing a mint -- the war that no one WANTS, and that most of the rest of the world's nations condemn us for? Or, maybe you meant floating asinine home loans to every Tom, Dick, and under-qualified Harry in the lower 48? The loans that caused our economy to go "BOOM!" and necessitate an astronomical bailout so company bigwigs can keep their golden parachutes while John Q. Public and his family try to make ends meet with less and just PRAY they don't get sick because they no longer have any health insurance? Man, that would just suck, wouldn't it?

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You know, generally, I'm not a political person. I tend to think most politicians are a bunch of snake-oil salesmen. But, I think we Americans suffered a lot under the tenure of the last eight years' administration, and I'm praying we can paper-clip, rubber band, and chewing gum our proud nation back together. I hold no ill will towards anyone who might be of a Republican bent, or any other persuasion. I have Republican friends and family members who feel very much in the minority these days. It's not so much about dissing you Republicans, and your core values, because most "more liberal" people have them, too. But, it IS time for another generation to have a shot at running the whole ball of wax. And it's okay that it's not just another WASP-y white guy whom most of the nation feels disenfranchised with. We need someone who believes that it's okay if gay people want to be married, or to provide health care for those who are sorely in need of it. Someone who helps pull our economy out of the toilet. Someone who understands that taxing the poor people the MOST, while taxing the wealthy the LEAST make *no sense whatsover.* Someone who can make America a good friend at the world's table again. We certainly need it.

Please Don't Share Your Germs

2009-04-20T21:12:00.002-04:00

Offspring stayed home from school today, citing fever and nausea as the main reasons. After JF and I thoroughly grilled her about what, exactly, it was she was wanting to miss at school today, I gave in and took a sick day to be with her.

We have left her home by herself for a full day on VERY rare occasions, figuring that I was only three and a half minutes away through traffic, but leaving her home alone didn't seem like a good idea today. We had storms in the area, and coupled with the fact that I felt pretty sure that she would spend the bulk of the day on the couch playing the Wii and 360 and do no ACTUAL resting, I stayed home, too. Mainly to prevent said brain drainage on the video game front.

Offspring has a very bad habit of spiking fevers into the 103 - 105 range with very little effort, so I wanted to be home in case this was what was happening with her.

The fever lingered in a low-grade state all day, but apparently the nausea has gone bye-bye, since she ate both lunch and dinner with no difficulties.

I began feeling a little yucky about 30 minutes ago, and now have a very seasick-feeling stomach. I hope I don't have whatever she had. I hate it when she shares the bad stuff! Why couldn't she have just given me her wallet? Or her carton of Ben and Jerry's Cake Batter that was in the freezer? Why did she have to share the nausea?

I Sang To A Goat In Your Bathroom Because I'm AWESOME!

2009-04-12T16:21:00.000-04:00

>This is an interesting meme that went around my school's email. Follow the directions to compose your sentence, and post your version in comments, if you would so kindly oblige me! Have fun!

The title sentence is mine, obviously...

Pick the month you were born:

January-------I kicked

February------I loved

March--------I karate chopped

April----------I licked

May----------I jumped on

June----------I smelled

July-----------I did the Macarena with

August--------I had lunch with

September----I danced with

October-------I sang to

November-----I yelled at

December-----I ran over

Pick the day (number) you were born on:

1-------a birdbath

2-------a monster

3-------a phone

4-------a fork

5-------a snowman

6-------a gangster

7-------my mobile phone

8-------my dog

9-------my best friends' boyfriend

10-------my neighbor

11-------my science teacher

12-------a banana

13-------a fireman

14-------a stuffed animal

15-------a goat

16-------a pickle

17-------your mom

18-------a spoon

19------ - a smurf

20-------a baseball bat

21-------a ninja

22-------Chuck Norris

23-------a noodle

24-------a squirrel

25-------a football player

26-------my sister

27-------my brother

28-------an iPod

29-------a surfer

30-------a homeless guy

31-------a llama

What is the last number of the year you were born:

1--------- in my car

2 --------- on your car

3 ----------- in a hole

4 ----------- under your bed

5 ----------- riding a Motorcycle

6 --------- sliding down a hill

7 --------- in an elevator

8---------- at the dinner table

9 -------- in line at the bank

0 -------- in your bathroom

Pick the color of shirt you are wearing:

White---------because I'm cool like that.

Black---------because that's how I roll.

Pink-----------because I'm NOT crazy.

Red-----------because the voices told me to.

Blue-----------because I'm sexy and I do what I want!

Green---------because I think I need some serious help.

Purple---------because I'm AWESOME!

Gray----------because Big Bird said to and he's my leader.

Yellow--------because someone offered me 1,000,000 dollars.

Orange--------because my family thinks I'm stupid anyway.

Brown---------because I can.

Other----------because I'm a Ninja!

None----------because I can't control myself!

Still Here, Still Got Nothin' to Contribute

2009-04-10T15:20:00.002-04:00

I am here, having driven five states away from home -- a round trip of 1300+ miles in three days. My daughter's Girl Scout troop went snow skiing, and I accompanied them as a driver/chaperone. It was a nice trip, but it was fast. And, I mean commando-raid style fast.

Offspring skiied for about 12 minutes all total, which cheesed me off quite a bit. Then, on our last day there, 5 separate people in our party got injured within the space of a half an hour, and I wasn't quite so cheesed off anymore. I was glad that Offspring hadn't taken to skiing and wasn't one of the ones who took a tumble. Still a mite peeved that we drove all that way, and paid about $300 for the trip all told for her NOT to ski, but since I had basically the same attitude (bust my butt in the freezing snow? No thank you!) at her age, I won't squawk too loudly.

We are on Spring Break, with only the weekend left to go. Boo! I need at least another week! :) Hope all is well with all of you!

The Three B's

2009-03-27T22:37:00.002-04:00

The first of the three B's was: Baltimore. I just traveled there for a work conference, which was great. I had never been that far north before, and I was looking forward to the trip, not only for the educational information that I was going to get out of it, but also for the complete change of scenery. Last year's conference was in Washington, D.C., and that was the farthest north I'd been up until that point.

JF was worried about me being in the Big City, so he told me not to go wandering around after dark, and to try not to walk anywhere alone. Knowing that Baltimore has some...um...*healthy* crime stats, I agreed. Plus, I've been held up before, and it's not a scene I care to repeat ever again.

As a fan of the late, great, and much-lamented TV show "Homicide: Life on the Street", I was curious to experience Baltimore for myself. I wanted to get a chance to take a picture on the station house steps, but, alas, that was not to be. We just didn't have enough down-time. It would have required a bit of a taxi drive, or a jaunt by Water Taxi, and it wasn't in the cards this trip. Maybe one day I'll be able to return, and that will be a must-see. Plus, I was under orders not to go alone, and truthfully, I didn't want to go all over Baltimore by myself anyway.

Our hotel was right next door to Camden Yards. I was surprised to see Camden Yards smack in the middle of downtown. Usually, the ball fields/stadiums are on the outskirts of town. My room was on the other side of the hotel, but some of the people in our group had great views down into the park. If only there had been a game.

The second B was: Binsk, as in La Binsk, an internet friend from waaay back. We were both denizens of a newsgroup devoted to the previously mentioned "Homicide", and have been friends for what seemed like forever, but without any chance to ever actually meet up. This trip provided us with a good reason! We made plans to grab a bite to eat down at the Inner Harbor, which was only a few blocks from our hotel and conference site.

Binsk brought her mother along, and we all had a lovely dinner at the Cheesecake Factory. It was great to finally meet her, and her mother was a true hoot. Unfortunately, they had to leave early the next morning to drive to Oklahoma so time was of the essence. If Binsk gives her permission, I will upload the photo of the two of us.

I arrived early, a few minutes before Binsk and Mom did, so I stepped out of the back door to check out what the Inner Harbor had to offer. I turned to the left, and saw the beautiful National Aquarium, so I took a picture.

When I turned to the right, there was the U.S.S. Constellation and the Constellation Museum. JF loves sailing ships, so I figured that I would take a picture of museum AND ship for him. I raise my camera to my eye, and I hear a strident voice say. "Ma'am? Ma'am! I need you to NOT do that!" I lower the camera, and realize that there's a security guard talking to me. I said back to him, in a very confused manner, "Um...I'm not taking a picture of YOU, I'm taking a picture of the *museum.*" He says, "I need you to not do that right now."

As I look around, Ol Eagle Eye me realizes that there are quite a few security guards about, and that though this is obviously a pedestrian area, no one's walking through. We're all milling about on the steps. At the end of the walkway, there are sawhorses, preventing the pedestrian traffic. (I'm a quick one!) In front of me, there's a small dock area where there are plenty of paddle boats available for rent. Only, strangely enough -- none are rented out. With this many people hanging around, you think they'd have some business. Hm. Odd.

After a minute, a man steps out of the dock house, and he's carrying a long hook on a pole. It looks like a fireplace poker with a really long handle. As we (the crowd and I) watch, the guy goes over to the corner of the harbor and begins poking around with the pole in the water. After a few minutes, he snags something, and begins laboriously tugging it over towards the dock.

Updated to add: Binsk approved my adding the picture of the two of us, so find it above!

Right about now is when I noticed the news helicopters hovering around. (Nothing gets past me, I tell ya!)

The hook man finally tugs his burden into somewhat of a viewable area. And.....that brings us to our last B: the body in the harbor. As fond as I am of police procedurals and forensic shows, all I had to see was a wet mop of hair to know that I was out of there. I bolted for the restaurant. Maybe my choice of pasta for dinner wasn't the best course of action, now that I think about it.

I called JF later that night to tell him about my first day. When I get to the part about the body, he had the same reaction that I did -- "Welcome to Baltimore!" Later in the trip, we encountered a homeless man in McDonald's who managed to talk the entire 20 or so minutes that we were there without seeming to take a breath. The day after the nonstop talker, we encountered a junkie in full-nod passout mode who was still managing to stand, by some miracle of gravity. She tottered in the doorway, and had occasional bouts of lucidity before she'd appear to pass out again. At one point, she pulled out a cigarette and stuck it between her lips before succumbing again. After a few minutes, she pulled out a lighter. I nudged my companion and told her that I'd pay her ten bucks if Junkie Lady lit her own hair on fire. Unfortunately, I have no idea if Junkie Lady survived unroasted because she left shortly afterward.

All in all, it was an eventful trip. The train ride was long and mostly uncomfortable, but it was an experience. I hope one day to return to Baltimore, despite all the colorful characters we encountered. Maybe the next time, I will have more time to explore.

On The Road Again

2009-03-18T16:50:00.002-04:00

...or, more accurately, on the tracks again! I'm off this evening to catch my train to Baltimore. I hope to get some "fun" time in among all the "professional learning" time, but I'm not sure how much opportunity to do so I will have.

I plan on taking pictures, and hopefully, some of them will be interesting enough to share!

I'll be gone until Monday, so hold down the fort until then, okay?

Burnt Out

2009-03-09T21:53:00.002-04:00

....or rather, the fire in my throat has burnt out. I, myself, have been feeling burnt out for a while. The latest development in the illness saga is that while my throat no longer feels as if it lost a fight with a packet of razor blades followed by a lemon juice chaser, it had mysteriously gone on strike.

I woke up this morning tired (thanks, Daylight Savings Time!) but feeling much better overall. There was some minor hacking in the shower as the hot water loosened my chest up, but my first clue that Something Was Not Right was in the car on the way to work. I've been blasting the most recent Evanescence album for about a month now, and trilling along with Amy Lee. Imagine my surprise when my usual soprano voice did a fairly convincing "Alvin and the Chipmunks" impersonation.

It was decidedly off to realize that I was about to head into a classroom with 16 rambunctious charges with no voice to speak of. I relied a lot on pseudo-sign language today, coupled with a lot of "come close so I can whisper to you" gestures. There was a lot of pointing, and a lot of raised eyebrows as well. I'll let you all imagine how swimmingly my day went. Go ahead -- imagine. I'll wait. Okay. Got a picture in your head? Now, instead superimpose that image with one of the mushroom clouds after the nuclear tests on Bikini Atoll, and you're just about there.

To cap the night off, Offspring gets a frantic text message from a school friend that the super duper, miss-the-WHOLE-day-of-school field trip she's been DYING to go on only has about 13 slots left. She panics, and thrusts the phone at me to call the travel agent in order to secure one of those last seats. Of course, they are closed for the day. OF COURSE. My life wouldn't have it any other way. I leave a very squeaky voice mail for the agent, and hope like hell they can decipher it.

And, in keeping with the "Once again, the Devil farts in my face" tradition, the very minute I am off the phone, Offspring bursts into the room, saying that the message that she got from her friend was "just a joke." Well, of course it was! AND I get to pony up $116 for the privilege, too!

Granted, the trip is an educational one, and one that I'd like to go on, if given the chance. (They're going to see the King Tut exhibit and the Terracotta Army in Atlanta.) I can't go however, because of this pesky thing called work, and because we will be leaving not even 24 hours later on a Girl Scout trip to go snow-skiing. Don't worry, I'm not taking the ankle biters -- this trip is Offspring's troop. We'll be driving to West Virginia, so I will need plenty of rest beforehand. Which means no back-to-back trips for good old Mom. Poor old Dad won't be going on EITHER trip. He'd have to bunk with a bunch of Boy Scouts he doesn't know for the skiing trip, and he's not exactly what one would call a social animal.

So, I'm off to bed in hopes that my voice will return as mysteriously as it left. If not, I have another day of pointing and gesturing ahead. What fun!

Woman On Fire

2009-03-06T17:02:00.002-05:00

I know posting has been down to an all-time low here lately, and for that I'm sorry. I just don't how many ways I can say "I'm not dead yet, but I'm fresh out of blog fodder" without making your heads explode. I know *I'm* getting tired of hearing that, and it's my blog!

School has been a bug-bear. I seem to have the royal knack for pissing people off lately. There's a lot of pressure on teachers these days -- it seems like if we sneeze, we piss a parent or three off. I have a child who is a Jehovah's Witness, and while we don't want to offend the family, we DO still have to teach the child about holidays and the like. If for no other reason because we teach calendar skills, and if we ask what the holiday in March is, the answer would be St. Patrick's Day. That is not a deliberate slight to people who don't celebrate St. Patrick's Day, but we can't NOT teach that because one family doesn't approve. You know what I mean?

My new Girl Scout troop is going well -- there are 17 of them! I was worried that I wouldn't have enough to make up a troop (which is five) and here I am with one of the largest troops in our area! I'm liking it. Most of them seem very excited to be there, and they seem to be happy with all of the things we've done so far. I've got some not-so-attentive parents, but I chalk a lot of that up to the fact that I don't see them every meeting.

Juggling Freak's birthday is next week. I was torn with what to get him this year, and seriously considered a unicycle. He, understandably, wants to TRY OUT a unicycle first to make sure he doesn't kill himself on it. This sounds awfully cautious of him. This is also the man who wants to flamethrower our big oak tree in the backyard because it sheds bushels of leaves no matter WHAT season it happens to be. This is also the man who got on a wild hair at a woodpecker who was pecking our house, and would have killed it, had we actual firearms in the house and not just a black powder replica. Now, I freely admit that by the end of that particular situation, I would have gleefully killed that woodpecker myself for pecking my bedroom eaves at seven in the damn morning every Saturday. Instead, we tried all the things the avian vets recommended: nasty-tasting sprays, decoy birds, changing the wood out. None of that worked. JF finally paintball-gunned it away. I hope he didn't kill the bird, but I also hope he's too scared to ever come back.

Offspring is tempermental. It's the age. Half the time, she pretends we're not there, and when she's forced to actually --UGH -- *interact* with us, she does a lot of eye-rolling and grunting. Then when she wants something, I hear "Mommy...." She hasn't called me Mommy since she was about seven. Not unless she's angling for something. We've actually all been sick, and she's been more lovey since being sick. I think we all sort of revert to childhood when we feel unwell, and she's holding true to that.

Speaking of sick, we've all been passing around a virus of some sort within our family. I have spent most of this week with sinus congestion of massive proportions, so much so that I had supressed hearing in one ear due to cloggage on Wednesday. My throat has been so raw that I have honestly LOOKED FORWARD to taking NyQuil just for the numbing effect. I took Mucinex, which tastes like bug spray, just to get some relief. This illness, whatever it is, has kicked our collective asses in a MAJOR way this week. My throat is no longer on fire, but JF has been stumbling around with fevers of 102 and 103. Not good in adults. I'm surprised he's been able to function. I know I got all muzzy-headed, and I wasn't battling fever, just congestion.

So, that's all I got. Not much. Still alive, though not really feeling like "alive" fits after this week. Just surviving.

So Freakin' Junior High

2009-03-03T18:58:00.002-05:00

I am currently embroiled in an Unbloggable, but I will let slip my guard enough to say that grown ladies who are supposed to be of strong moral character and hardy constitutions are being very childish right now.

As one of my friends commented: "I think it's time we all put on our big girl panties and dealt with this."

I thought I was long past the histrionics and teeth-gnashing of junior high. I'm sorry to hear that I was misinformed.

Random Bullets of The Same-Old, Same-Old

2009-02-24T20:04:00.000-05:00

There's nothing really exciting going on here in Casa KLee, which is why there have been so few posts lately. And, rather than reiterate that with yet ANOTHER post that tells you, yes -- I am alive, but am a boring sod, I give you Random Bullets!

* Offspring narrowly missed summary execution by bring home a truly horrendous mid-term report. After tears (on her part) and exhortations to get crackin' on that grade (my part), bloodshed was averted. But just barely. When your honor students brings home a 43% average, that's officially NOT GOOD. And, yes -- there was cussing involved. (Her father and I.)

* I am so freaking tired of Girl Scout cookies, you all just don't know. Many, many thanks to Kathy A. for relieving me -- and the hatchback of my car -- of ten boxes.

* I am headed to Baltimore in a little more than 2 weeks for a professional conference. Binsk, if you're out there, you up for lunch? I'd love to do the Mikey Kellerman Memorial Pub Crawl, but I'm a serious lightweight, and I have to get up and you know, FUNCTION, the next day.

* Said trip to Baltimore will happen on the overnight train, which I have never done before. I hope the train is comfortable for fat people who need sleep desperately.

* JF has been very sick this week, including staying home from work on both Friday and Monday. That NEVER happens. He has to be bleeding from the eyeballs before he admits to being sick, but poor baby's been doped up liberally with DayQuil, NyQuil, and they made another kind of -Quil, he'd be on that, too. He went back to work today, but dragged in this afternoon like the Living Dead. I hope he feels better soon!

* My mother and stepfather have a Westie named Doc. They love this dog to distraction, and I swear he couldn't be more spoiled if he were human. Now, I'm not a dog person AT ALL, but Doc has personality. I like him. Well, my Mom caved in, and they bought a female Westie not too long ago as a companion. Her name is Skye, and she's a cutie. They dropped by our house this weekend to show her off a bit. She's still a puppy, but Mom says she's already ruling the roost. Doc's a good boy to put up with all her mess. I'll have to get pics soon.

* School is going well, but there are always the few that lag behind no matter how much effort you put forth for them. I have one child who is in a very sad situation, not only in his school life, but in his family life as well. I have prayed for guidance on this one, but I think , sadly, I forsee a future falling through the cracks. We'll work our hardest to make sure that doesn't happen, but when the parents just don't care, there's not much you can do.

* The Girl Scout troop is going well, though I have a few very headstrong little girls. I am trying my utmost to mold that headstrong streak in a positive way. I'll let you know how that all works out.

That's really all that's happening in this part of the world. Sorry it isn't more entertaining.

Nothing New to Report

2009-02-17T17:58:00.000-05:00

I'm here, but have nothing of great import to tell you all about. I got off work early today to go to the local Girl Scout store to get some needed items for my troop meeting on Thursday, and then I went to Sam's Club, where I got some chicken sausage with mozzerella and roasted garlic for supper.

What a life, right?

I know. Try and stop yourselves from swooning from the glamor of it all.

Life in the Fast Lane

2009-02-08T20:42:00.002-05:00

My time has been booked pretty solid for about two to three weeks now. I have had a lot to do since starting this Girl Scout troop. There is a lot of planning that goes into those meetings, and most parents never see all that. Plus, there's been the continuing craft workshops that I'm trying to offer, and family stuff as well.

I did manage to jaunt off to a crafting meeting on Saturday, and spent the afternoon with 16 other ladies, learning all about the new products that our company is offering, and getting to make some great projects with said new, pretty stuff. If you'd like, I'll post some pictures.

Offspring spent most of today making a "Wanted" poster for a school project. May I say that I was very happy to be able to slightly seduce her to the Crafty Side with distressing tools, parchment paper, and a judiciously sponged application of brown ink to "age" her poster. There may be hope yet for her eventual assimilation!

JF got a begging "please come back to us!" plea from the makers of "Star Wars Galaxies", so he's been playing that all weekend. The verdict is not good, folks. He says he won't re-up past the 2 week free trial.

Offspring and I are gearing up for Girl Scout cookie time. It's right around the corner, much to my dismay. I enjoy the fact that we get to do a lot with the money that comes from selling cookies, but it's such a time-suck for about six weeks. Ah, well. We're planning trips to West Virginia for some snow-skiing in early April (most of our girls have never been skiing) and then a trip to Sea World in May, and an overnighter at Kennedy Space Center in June. Plus, all the while, we'll be saving for London next summer. So, we'd better sell a bucketload of cookies.

What's new with all of you?

A Fabulous Deal Comes Back To Bite Me In The Butt

2009-02-02T17:09:00.004-05:00

The other day, I decided to shop online for some things I needed for Girl Scouts. (Have I mentioned here that I was asked to start up a troop at my school? If not, I'll provide details at the end...)

I went to the official online shop and found the few things I needed, plus some great deals on uniform pieces for Offspring. I got really excited when I saw that some of her age-level items were on clearance -- two different styles of pants, one priced at 99 cents, and the other at $1.49. They also had a uniform shirt for 99 cents. I got all happy, and started clicking away. I am always glad to find stuff like this on sale. So, I had my sale items, and one really expensive item. My total is close to $100.

Imagine my dismay when I get all of the shopping done, and am at the end of the transaction, with all of the credit card information entered in, and BAM -- I get an error message. I get "We are unable to complete your request at this time. Please try again later." I got a little ticked, but I just figured that their system was down. I thought I'd try again later, since most of that was a really good deal.

I try again later, but still get the SAME blasted message. Over the next two days, I try this same transaction several more times -- all are unsuccessful, much to my dismay. I end up having to call Customer Service in order to get what I want to go through.

Fast forward to this past Friday evening. JF, Offspring, and I are all relaxing at home, when there is a knock on our front door. The only time someone knocks on our door at that time of the evening, it's usually our friendly UPS man to deliver a package. JF opens the door, and comes back into our bedroom carrying 5 packages. Count them -- FIVE -- packages. I immediately get a sinking feeling.

Lo and behold, through the magic of the Internet, apparently ALL the times I placed that order, it went through. Never mind that I never got a confirmation on any of those attempted purchases, only an error. I now have FIVE pairs of pants, FIVE shirts, and four $75 silk scarves. Ouch!

Of course, the delivery arrives after the Customer Service office is closed for the weekend, and I rush around, all in a tizzy, trying to make sure that I only used a credit card, and not my debit card, or we're in a serious mess. JF is usually the worrier in the family, but I'm worked up -- this is more than $400 we're talking about; money we can't just throw away at this point. JF calms me down, and tells me to check the bank account online. We do, and it seems we're safe as far as these transactions go. They were all made with one credit card, and we can get that taken care of pretty easily.

So, this morning, I call the Customer Support line, and explain to the representative about what has obviously happened. She seems pretty shocked that their internal auditing system didn't catch this snafu, but tells me to box all the unwanted items up and send them back, and the will give me a full refund.

All I know is it's probably going to cost me a freaking mint to mail all this stuff back, and I certainly won't be buying anything online from them for a LONG time.

---------------------------------------------------------

* Okay, so I was asked way back in November if I would be interested in starting up a troop at my school for kindergarten and first grade girls. I told the Powers That Be that I would think about it, and after some deliberation, I decided to do it. My main reason for agreeing is that I recruited a good friend to serve as my assistant. Leading a troop is a lot of work, and I've had lackluster backup and dismal parent participation before. I decided that if I did this, I was going to need someone that I could count on to ACTUALLY help. My friend, whom I call "Small, But Sassy" was a person that I knew wouldn't let me down. What with holidays, school stuff, and the snail's pace at which the bureaucracy works, we didn't get our ducks in a row until this past week. So, that's the scoop. I'll keep you all posted. Cross your fingers for me.

Cookie Wars

2009-01-28T17:56:00.002-05:00

As I get ready for school in the morning, I usually take a quick minute to look up CNN and see what's in the news while I have my breakfast. This morning, this item was in the "iReport" column on CNN.

Basically, what the news item said was should people in the workplace sell Girl Scout cookies for their daughters? The hypothetical situation is that your "boss" basically demands that you buy cookies so that his/her daughter can "stomp" all of the others in her troop. I have quite a few problems with this scenario AND with a lot of the comments from random people about this issue on the site as well.

First of all, we certainly do NOT teach the girls that they need to "stomp" each other. I always told my girls that you are under NO obligation to sell *anything*, but because the cookie sale funds almost all of a troop's extra activities, that translates into "the more we sell, the more we can do". I never stressed a certain number of boxes, but instead encouraged the girls to set their own goals. If they do more than that, great. If not, well, that's okay, too. If one of their parents acts like an idiot, we have no control over that, but we HAVE taught the daughters better.

Secondly, a lot of comments were made that people don't think the office is an appropriate place for cookie sales -- my thought on that is "why not?" I never bother anyone about buying cookies. I asked my boss before the sale started if it was all right if I asked people if they wanted to participate; I sent out an email to all of my coworkers and said that they could see me if they were interested; and if someone said "no", I thanked them, and didn't bother them again. I never force cookies on anyone, and don't encourage anyone else to have aggressive sales practices.

Lastly, the Girl Scouts are a non-profit organization. The way we do most of our field trips and to buy supplies we need are paid mainly out of profits made from cookies sales. That's our bread and butter, basically. Fewer and fewer people are purchasing cookies, and even fewer companies allow Girl Scouts on their property anymore for public sales. Since when has having a Girl Scout standing in front of your establishment, selling cookies, been a BAD thing?

I have plenty of other thoughts about this swirling around in my head, but I am still a little too miffed to get them out of my head and onto the computer. It would probably also have language included that does not belong in the same post as the words "Girl Scouting" as well. Just get a grip, people! Really!

The Bucket List

2009-01-24T21:38:00.004-05:00

I got an email from a school friend not long ago, and in it was her "bucket list." I thought it might make good blog fodder, so I'm passing it along to you. Here are the rules:

Copy and Paste to new email and place an X by all the things you've done and remove the X from the ones you have not, and send it to your friends (including me). (Or, in this case, steal it for your own blog...)

This is for your entire life!

(X) Gone on a blind date
( ) Skipped school.
(X) Watched someone die
( ) Been to Canada
( ) Been to Mexico
(X) Been to Florida
(X) Been on a plane
(X) Been lost
( ) Been on the opposite side of the country
(X) Gone to Washington, DC
(X) Peed in the ocean
(X) Cried yourself to sleep
(X) Played cops and robbers
(X) Recently colored with crayons
(X) Sang karaoke
(X) Paid for a meal with only coins
(X) Done something you told yourself you wouldn't?
(X) Made prank phone calls
(X) Laughed until some kind of beverage came out of your nose & elsewhere.
(X) Caught a snowflake on your tongue
(X) Danced in the rain
(X) Written a letter to Santa Claus
(X) Been kissed under the mistletoe
(X) Watched the sunrise with someone
(X) Blown bubbles
(X) Gone ice-skating
(X) Been skinny dipping outdoors
( ) Gone to the movies alone.

1. Any nickname? the shortened version of my real name. JF also calls me "Boo."

2. Mother's name? Lynn

3. Favorite drink? Cherry Limeade

4. Favorite car? Honda Element

5. How much do you love your job? A lot

6. Birthplace? CityOfMyBirth

7. Favorite vacation spot? Places that I've *actually* been: Germany; places I WANT to go: London.

8. Ever been to Africa? No

9. Ever eaten just cookies for dinner? No, but I HAVE eaten just pie.

10. Ever been on TV? Yes

11. EVER steal any traffic signs? Yes

12. Ever been in a car accident? Yes

13. Drive a 2-door or 4-door vehicle? 4-Door

14. Can you drive a standard (Manual shift)car? Yes

15. Favorite pie? Chocolate Silk

16. Favorite number? 12

17. Favorite movie? "Twilight" is the most recent one I've seen, but one of my all-time faves is "Better Off Dead."

18. Favorite holiday? Christmas

19. Favorite dessert? Chocolate, in all its forms...

20. Favorite food? fried chicken

21. Favorite day of the week? Saturday

22. Favorite brand of body soap? Ivory "Pure Clean" Body Wash

23. Favorite toothpaste? Colgate Total with mouthwash beads.

24. Favorite smell? roses and rose perfume, especially Victorian and Tea Roses

25. How do you relax? Craft, read a book, take naps.

26. How do you see yourself in 10 years? Hopefully, I will be happy and healthy.

27. Furthest place you will send this message to? Maybe Jeni in Scotland will reply!

28. Who will respond to this the fastest? Hm - maybe Marni?

And Once Again, All Is Right With The World

2009-01-21T19:35:00.003-05:00

Offspring, who displays very little emotion lately except disdain and "I'm too cool for all of this" came up to me a little while ago, almost in tears. Her beloved iPod, which she got for Christmas, was somehow stuck.

My mother gave her an iHome dock, and we set it up last night because her cheapie CD player was no longer spinning with any regularity. I told her the iHome would not only play her iPod selections, but that it was also an alarm clock. Being that it's fericously hard to get her up at five-thirty in the morning, I forsee this coming in handy.

As she stumbles towards me in her haste, she says, with a note of panic in her voice: "Mom? Was there a certain way to remove the iPod from the dock?" I told her, "Yes -- remember? I showed you how to do it last night." And, I demonstrated the angle at which she was to remove the iPod.

She thrusts it at me, quivering with angst. "But, it's...like....STUCK or something! I took it off the right way, and now it won't do anything!" Listening to the earphones, I could hear that it did seem stuck in the middle of a song, and it was making this buzzy sort of noise.

I tried turning it off and on, and that did nothing, so I googled "troubleshooting stuck iPod" and came up with a list of several things to try. Apple's support page said to turn the "hold" switch off and on and then hold down two button simultaneously until the Apple logo appeared. It worked.

Offspring sighed a huge sigh and said, "Whoof! I'm glad -- I thought it was broken! Thanks, Mom."

See? I am still good for stuff!

Bingo!

2009-01-18T17:36:00.001-05:00

Not long ago, JF came home with a "WalMart Bingo" card that he found online. We laughed about it, because a trip to El Diablo WalMarto usually involves about every slice of the demographic pie out there. Some of the categories on his card (the one linked above) were:

-- child without shoes
-- a visibly pregnant woman with a "tramp stamp" tattoo
-- frozen food item left to thaw in a random aisle
-- someone oblivious to the fact that they are in your way

Today, we ran into a few categories that weren't even ON the card, and one that we often wish would happen, but never seems to.

I did see a child with no shoes, but to be fair, it was a baby in a stroller, and most likely wouldn't have been wearing shoes anyway. The baby DID have on socks, at least.

There was a woman in slippers, but no hair curlers. She must have gotten a rude awakening when she left the store to find out that the heavens had opened and we were now about ankle deep in water.

There are *always* people who block an entire aisle while they try to decide: "BBQ chips, or Ranch?", and today was no exception. I think most of them know damn well that they're gumming up the flow of traffic, and they just don't care. Anything that puts the other guy out is a Good Thing in their eyes.

There was the kid trifecta -- one throwing a tantrum because Mama wouldn't buy her something; the trio of kids riding the cart by hanging off whatever space was available; and the siblings having a fight. JF espied one little girl pulling another (possibly her little sister) across the floor by her ankles.

There was the local-to-our-area freebie middle square -- the wildly dressed/wild hair art college student wandering around, complete with vacant stare and iPod turned up WAY too loud.

The one category that we sometimes long to see (but not nearly often enough) are the kids who TOTALLY DESERVE IT getting their butts whipped. We often see the mamas who will smack their beloved progeny for no reason -- Mama whaps Junior upside the head and says, "No, I TOLE you we wasn't gettin' no Pop Tarts today!" -- but I mean the really obnoxious kid who tells his parent to "shut up, stupid!" and who richly deserves a beating that never seems to come.

We hate going to WalMart, but it's a necessary evil. At least playing Bingo keeps us occupied.

Tales From the Schoolyard

2009-01-14T22:19:00.003-05:00

Our little city is well-known for its sub-tropical climate, and lately has been no different. The temperature was 75 on Christmas. Really puts you in the holiday spirit, right?

It was unseasonably warm here. Until about three days ago. Then the cold and dreary, wet weather blew in, and we've had kids bundled up like the Michelin Man roaming the grounds for the last few days. (The sad thing is that it STILL isn't that cold yet, but it's on the way. the weather men say...I no longer trust the local ones. They're not even *trying* anymore! Their forecasts are: "It will be between 63 and 68." Huh? *I* can do that much, and I didn't go to meteorological school!)

At any rate, dismissal this afternoon, the kids were pulling on jackets as they left the main building. Most made comments about the cold. Two fifth graders walked by, and this is the little snippet of conversation I caught before they were out of range:

Big Boy: "Man, it's COLD out here!"
Other Big Boy: "Yeah, it's colder than a witch's....."
BB: "A witch's what?"
OBB: "I dunno, I forget the rest. But, it's colder than the coldest part of that witch!"

Sheer genius. And, no - they weren't modifiying the conversation because I was near -- fifth graders just don't care that much. They obviously have heard the "colder than a witch's teat" saw somewhere before, but probably didn't know what "teat" meant, so therefore forgot it. Ah, the joys of kids!

Maybe There's Something To Triskadecaphobia

2009-01-12T13:01:00.005-05:00

Offspring twisted an ankle at some point during the weekend, and begged to stay home from school today. I let her, mainly because she's only missed one school day so far this year, but also because I didn't sleep well last night and it was a chance for me to make up some of that deficit. Does that make me a horrible mother? I'm sure it probably does, but I doubt I was in the running to win "Mother of the Year" before this, so it's a moot question, really.

On one hand, I did tell her that a condition of staying home was a trip to the doctor's office. And, in her favor, she didn't whine about having to see said doctor. (Offspring *hates* the doctor, and can work herself into a death spiral if there's even a hint of "injection" on the horizon, so this is a major step towards "I'm not faking.")

And, on the other hand, I have twisted and sprained enough ankles in my lifetime to know how miserable your existence can be with one. So, I opted to let her go back to bed, call into to work, and doze until 9, when the doctor's office opened. The doc's office said that they'd take her this afternoon, but that if we think she'll need x-rays, we'd have to traipse over to the ortho's as well. I told them that I didn't think it was that serious, but that I was thinking it was serious enough to require more than an Ace bandage and whatever comfort I could provide at home. Now, we just have to see what the doc says.

13 isn't treating her so well just yet.

A Teenager At Last!

2009-01-08T17:22:00.003-05:00

My baby turns 13 at 10:31 tomorrow morning. It seems hard to fathom that 13 years have flown by in what seems like just a blink of an eye. It seems like yesterday that she was a newborn. How fast it has gone!

I've always said that Offspring seems to be ahead of the curve -- she met a lot of milestones early, and she's been early with most things since -- and we started the teen years, attitude-wise, at about 11 and a half. But, now it's really here. 13. Wow.

She's not a baby anymore, and hasn't been for quite some time. We tease her about stuff she used to do back when she "was cute" or back when she "used to love us", but the truth is we still think she's pretty darn cute, and even if she doesn't like us much every now and then, I'm pretty sure she still loves us. Of course, this picture shows that sullen, "WHAT?!?" side of her, but you know what I mean. I chose this picture because it's the most recent that isn't from so far away.

She's changed a lot from the clingy toddler that she used to be. I no longer have to pry myself away from her; instead, I have to beg her to tell me something, ANYTHING, about her life. I have to wheedle more than the standard "nothin' much" out of her when I ask what happened at school. Much like most parents of teenagers, I would assume.

I often bug her, and embarrass her endlessly when I act in a way that is not Offspring-approved in front of her friends. In fact, just to bedevil her, when she says "Don't touch me.", that sparks off a furious round of me touching her as many times as I can before she goes all Norman Bates on me. Usually while I say, "Touch, touch, touch...." in a monotone voice, which irritates the ears as well as all the places I've poked.

She may be moody and tempermental, but she's all mine. Happy birthday, baby! Now go out and get a job before you nickel-and-dime me to death!

Seriously, though -- I love you. Happy Birthday.

You Be The Judge

2009-01-05T16:27:00.002-05:00

We went back to school today, and it was HARD. I really got used to being a total slug who got paid for not working. Going back to work after the winter break is a slice of heaven compared with coming back after summer break, though.

One of my good friends called my classroom and asked if I could pop down to her room while she went out to the bathroom. I was happy to oblige, and started talking to her first graders. Some asked how my break was, and said "Happy New Year." One little girl raised her hand, and asked a question that gave me a moment's pause....

Student: "Mrs. KLee, do you know that song "Beat It" by Michael Jackson, back when he was black?

Mrs. KLee: "Yes, I know that song -- it came out when I was young. Back when he was black, huh? He's not black now?"

Student: "No, he's white now."

That's pretty bad if the six year olds, who weren't even BORN when he had his heyday know of his efforts to become Diana Ross. Needless to say, it was an interesting way to start off a new year.

It Ain't A True Southern New Year's Eve 'Til Someone's Blown A Hand Off

2008-12-31T21:41:00.003-05:00

Yet another New Year's Eve in the Nation's Groin, and already the fireworks are loud and numerous.

We got back early this evening from a quick commando blitz-style trip to CityOfMyBirth for what I sincerely pray is the last little bit of festive family togetherness until at least Spring Break. We spent some time with my grandmother, who will be 90 this year, and God Bless her, she spent about 20 minutes of the time we were there whacking my father for one thing or another. May I say that I absolutely *adore* the fact that my father was getting called on the carpet and smacked like a naughty toddler by his mother?! It was truly a Christmas Miracle. I will hold the vision of my grandmother and my father elbows-deep into a bitch slap fight in my mind's eye until my dying day. It means I have ammunition against my father, and that, dear readers, is more precious than gold.

The next time he tries to verbally spar with me, I shall remind him that I saw his 90 year old mother kick his ass, and I shall win. Period. Enough said. My reign shall be awesome to behold!

Ahem. Sorry. Got a little sidetracked there. Seriously though -- if you lived with my father, you would totally appreicate the need to have ammunition like this ready against him. I have been at his mercy for far too long.

The trip was otherwish uneventful, other than the Ben and Jerry's scoop shop in CityOfMyBirth has closed, and that bummed Offspring out to no end. Our local scoop shop has been closed for about four years, so we always capped off a family trip with an ice cream, and it peeved Offspring that she was denied Ben and Jerry's. We had to settle for Marble Slab Creamery, and it wasn't nearly as good.

The trip home was scary -- the major highway was populated by idiots who were determined to run us off the road, and after we bumped through the median grass after a game of chicken with an SUV and a semi, we said the hell with it, and took a two-lane road in towards town. Then, some total knucle-dragger decided to pass a slower driver by coming at us head-on. We did another fancy slide through the soft shoulder, and crammed our hearts back in our chests. Luckily, after that, we passed over the river, into our state, and our town. We headed through the downtown area, to see cop cars with people pulled over virtually EVERYWHERE! Nothing says "welcome home!" like a squad car's light bar.

We stopped on the way to the house to grab fast food because I think our luck had run out. We're staying in tonight, and hoping that's fireworks we hear, and not gunshots.

Happy New Year, everyone! May 2009 be a helluva lot better than 2008!

Lazing About

2008-12-29T11:28:00.002-05:00

Hi, all! Just a quick note to say that we're all still alive, and enjoying the time off. We have plans to head to CityOfMyBirth tomorrow to visit my family for the very last little bit of holiday gifting and assorted hijinks.

School starts back in exactly a week. I'm not looking forward to having to follow a schedule again.

Juggling Freak is busy playing with all his new gadgets, I've been messing with the Wii Fit that I got for Christmas, and Offspring has been MIA since about seven minutes after she opened the cell phone we bought her. (Thanks to all who offered advice about the cell phones -- we actually have had one for her for over a month, waiting under the tree, but I couldn't say anything about it here in case she read about it. Not that I'm "cool" enough to warrant her checking my blog with any regularity. Anyway.)

I hope all of you had a good holiday, and I send you all wishes for a great upcoming new year. May your 2009 be healthy, prosperous, and full of joy!

Ho Ho Ho!

2008-12-24T10:14:00.001-05:00

For those of you that celebrate Christmas, I hope you get everything you are wishing for -- both materially, but more importantly, personally and spiritually. For my friends of other faiths, may you be happy, healthy, and fulfilled.

Thank you for spending time with me here, and thank you for all the love and support that you give me. I appreciate you all more than you can ever know. I send you all the best for the holiday season, and hopes for a joyous and prosperous 2009. May your lives be filled with joy, your hearts with love, and may your burdens be light.

Break Out The Peppermint Schnapps-- School's Over!

2008-12-19T16:51:00.004-05:00

In honor of the momentous occasion of two paid weeks off from work *and* no rambunctious little charges to herd like a farmer, I give you a Christmas-themed meme.

I don't remember were I got this from. Either I stole it from one of the people I read, or I stole it from one of the people THEY read. Or, maybe I got it as a mass-email and decided it would be good blog fodder. In any case, here you go!

----------------------------------

1. Wrapping paper or gift bags?

I actually LIKE wrapping presents. However, there are always those oddly-shaped items that you have to resort to a bag for. I typically do NOT use bags for Juggling Freak and Offspring simply because they are peekers. I thought that Hallmark’s motion-activated gift bags this year would be a great solution for the Incredibly Sneaky-Peeky Duo, but the cat would most likely set it off at 3 in the morning, and I’d have to kill her.

2. Real tree or artificial?

Real trees are best, especially for the scent, but they’re so messy. We got an artificial when Offspring was small, and we’ve used an artificial ever since.

3. When do you put up the tree?

Juggling Freak is a total Scrooge who refuses to do one single iota of Christmas decorating until it is actually December. Usually, we do the tree on the first weekend of December.

4. When do you take the tree down?

As soon as I can fully admit to myself that the holiday is once again over. (sigh.)

5. Do you like egg nog?

Blargh! No. I’ll repeat my answer from last year’s meme – drinking eggnog is like saying you want to get a little drunk, but you also want some pancakes.

6. Favorite gift received as a child?

I have a few that I remember quite fondly. I had a plastic cow that drank water and you could then milk a very watery, white “milk” from her plastic udders. It was probably made in China and highly toxic, but it was the 70s, and no one thought about stuff like that then.

7. Hardest person to buy for?

My parents. My mother has absolutely EVERYTHING, and my father gets harder to buy for each year.

8. Easiest person to buy for?

Offspring. I am usually pretty well versed on what is or is not to her taste. Though, as she gets older, she gets harder to buy for. It’s not all toys and dolls anymore.

9. Do you have a nativity scene?

No. The one I used to have was made out of glass, and the blasted cat shattered some of the pieces years back. However, we do have several Playmobil advent calendars, which are lots of fun.

10. Have you ever recycled a Christmas gift?

Yes. Usually stuff that I get from students, because really – how many lotions from Bath and Body Works does one REALLY need?

11. Lights on a Christmas Tree?

Hells, yeah! The more the better, in my opinion! Juggling Freak says that I like so many lights on the tree that you can get a tan by sitting by it.

12. When do you start shopping?

I sort of look around all year long, and will very occasionally pick up the odd gift on vacation somewhere new. I tend to start shopping more in depth in early November.

13. Favorite Christmas song?

Lately, “Breath of Heaven” by Amy Grant, though I am also partial to “The Holly and the Ivy” by Bing Crosby.

14. Favorite thing to eat at Christmas?

Praline cookies, also known locally as “Christmas Crack.” It’s THAT addictive!

15. Mail or email Christmas cards?

Are you seriously asking ME this question?!? Mail, and all handmade cards! Just did 12 cards and a gift card holder on Saturday!

16. Worst Christmas gift you received?

Hm. I don’t think I’ve had a really BAD gift, unless you count the horrid Christmas sweaters I used to get in childhood that looked like they were picked by blind shut-in maiden aunts.

17. Favorite Christmas movie?

A Christmas Story! How can you resist “Fra-gee-lay” and Ralphie eating Lifebouy?

18. Travel at Christmas or stay at home?

I like to stay home, but we usually travel, if only the half-hour all the way across town to my mother’s. We try to go to CityOfMyBirth to see all my father and grandmother, but it’s not always possible.

19. Can you name all of Santa’s reindeer?

Of course. I have to teach them to my students every year. I’d be in a real pickle if I didn’t know them.

2o. Angel on top of tree, or star?

Neither. We have a replica of Disney World’s Cinderella Castle, complete with Cinderella. We’re Disney slaves.

21. Open gifts Christmas Eve or Christmas morning?

As a child, we were always allowed to choose one present to open on Christmas Eve, and then all the rest on Christmas morning. As an adult, we have so many relatives to see that we do Christmas Eve at my mother’s house, our own Christmas on Christmas Day morning, and then head over to my mother-in-law’s. My father and my father-in-law are fitted in wherever possible.

22. Most annoying thing about this time of year?

People who knock others over in their haste to get to the best deals. I once saw a woman snatch a Tickle-Me-Elmo out of a little girl’s hands. Sad, really. This year, I saw one woman punch another in the face for stealing her parking place that she was waiting for.

23. Favorite ornament theme or color?

I don’t do the theme or one-color thing. I like to have a multi-colored tree, and I put as many of the special ornaments as I can fit on the tree on there.

24. Favorite for Christmas dinner?

My mother-in-law is FAMOUS for not being able to cook, so we’ve gone to a local Japanese restaurant on Christmas Day for the last 10 years or so. It started off because they were the only thing open, but now it’s become something we look forward to.

25. What do you want for Christmas this year?

Personally, I’d like to lose weight and be healthier. And, I’d like more love for our planet and less war and strife. On a more selfish note, I’ve asked for lots of crafting stuff, and some good books. Otherwise, I want my family to be happy with the things that I’ve gotten them. The giving is the more fun part -- I like watching other people’s reactions more than I like getting things for me.

25 Days, 25 Reasons

2008-12-15T18:01:00.002-05:00

Offspring will officially be a teenager in 25 days. It will be a bloody miracle if all 3 of us make it to 13 without maiming, bloodshed, tears, and LOTS of profanity. It is also somewhat telling that I just misspelled "teenager" as "teeanger."

Don't get me wrong -- I love my daughter with everything that I am, but this age is SUCH a struggle. Everything is of such monumental importance. For you other mothers of teenagers (or thereabouts) out there, is this the way things are in your world?

For example, Offspring *desperately* wants a cell phone. Now, while this is a perfectly normal desire of that age, the histrionics that accompany it! Oh, the wailing and the gnashing of teeth! (That's mostly me, by the way, the wailing and gnashing of teeth. But in my defense, she started it.) I told Offspring that I did not think a cell phone was a good idea. I've heard horror stories of parents who get their child's bill to find out that they've run amok with it, and there are pages and pages of charges. I can tell you right now -- we can't afford a $300 cell phone bill. Plus, cell phones aren't allowed at school, so you can't take it there. Once you get home, you HAVE a phone here that you're always on. Why do you need a cell phone, too? Other than it's the hip accessory to have, and that everyone else has? So, when I tell her that I think it's a bad idea, she comes down with a HUGE case of the sulks.

Despite all of this drama, I do love her. So, in honor of my daughter whom I love, and who I sincerely hope will arrive at her thirteenth birthday, I give you: 25 reasons that I promise not to kill my daughter.

1.) People tend to frown on murder.
2.) By "people" I mean "the cops."
3.) And most likely any other government or state agency as well.
4.) I paid an awful damn lot to have her, and I don't want to let all that money go to waste.
5.) My parents would probably be mad at me.
6.) I don't particularly want to go to jail.
7.) I don't think I'm cut out for life as Big Rhonda's Bitch.
8.) Blood is pretty hard to clean up.
9.) And I think we all know my track record as a housekeeper.
10.) If my cleaning skillz are the deciding factor, I'm toast.
11.) It's also really hard to get blood out of some fabrics.
12.) While I like forensic shows, I don't think I've gleaned enough information to get me off scot-free.
13.) Who else could I get to run out and check the mailbox?
14.) And to bring me extra toilet paper when the spindle is miraculously empty? Again?
15.) It would really put a damper on the Christmas season.
16.) And I'd have to return a WHOLE bunch of gifts.
17.) And I *hate* waiting in the endless return lines.
18.) Plus, my feet are still KILLING me, and it wouldn't be good for me.
19.) Who would feed the kittehs?
20.) What would I do with all of her stuff?
21.) I think I'd really miss her. Eventually.
22.) Who else would drive me to distraction?
23.) Despite all my complaining and her crankiness, I still see occasional flashes of the snuggly little girl who once adored her father and me.
24.) She can still manage to surprise me with a hug or a kiss, even though she's too "cool" for it most of the time.
25.) She's still my baby.

And there you have it. She may make me mental a lot of the time, but I'm just hoping that it's a phase, and we'll all come out unscathed on the other side at some point. I hope we can all hold out that long.

Please, Lord -- Let Me Make It

2008-12-13T11:28:00.000-05:00

We have five days of school left.

Every year, I forget how hellish the last week before Christmas break actually is. I remember it as being bad, but I tend to minimize the more horrible details simply because I'm an optimist, and my mind just happens to work that way.

So, not only are there 5 days of school left to get through, with all of the Christmas anticipation that that involves, but there is also a "super moon" waning at the moment. A "super moon", apparently, is not just any crazy-making, normal, full moon, but a full moon that is the closest to Earth that it has been for 15 years, and will be again for another 8 years. So, this means little people who are virtually wetting their pants in excitement over the holiday and who know that we only have five days of school left before two weeks off, but ALSO a large celestial body that plays havoc with moods and behavior.

Now, I can hear some of you scoffing -- full moon? Really? YES. REALLY. I was never one to put much stock in all of that mumbo-jumbo until I started working in the education sector. It, surprisingly, is true that full moons do mean more headaches (and work) for teachers, policemen, and hospitals. I would have never thought it was true, but every! single! time! my kids are acting like they've got no blasted sense at all, there's been a full moon.

Kids who normally are so well-behaved that I wish to clone them are acting up. Kids that I would have NEVER thought to have a note sent home to Mama are making some VERY poor choices. And not just the "I was talking when I should have been working" choices.... more like the "I hit her in the mouth because she looked at my eraser" choices. Like the "I cut my new school shirt up with scissors just because" kind of choices. I had one little boy CRY the other day because he didn't know where to sit on the carpet for story time. We sit in the same places every time we go to the carpet!

Nevermind the fact that there will probably be little to no actual REAL work this week -- there will be a lot of coloring, and lots of art projects, and on Thursday, we will be making individual gingerbread houses. On Friday, we will watch holiday movies, and allow the kids to come to school in their pajamas, and drink hot cocoa all day. That's really going to help all the hyperactivity.

Just five more days. Please don't let me go postal on anyone.

This Just About Sums It Up

2008-12-11T12:00:00.001-05:00

Click on the photo to embiggen. Pay attention to the small print. 'Nuff said.

My Feet: They Hurt. A Lot.

2008-12-09T17:19:00.002-05:00

Some of you may remember WAAAAY back that my feet have been bothering me. I was diagnosed with plantar's fasciitis in my right foot about two years ago. And shortly after that, I broke said foot, and the plantar's fasciitis went away. Until now.

About six months ago, my lefy foot started hurting in the same way my right had, so I self-diagnosed the PF and went out to get some lifts for my shoes. The pain didn't go away, and one night, after limping along like a hobo on a bender, Juggling freak insisted that I make an appointment to see the doctor. And I did.

I went to the doctor right around my birthday, which as you may remember was slap-bang in the middle of October. The doctor did absolutely NOTHING for me, not even giving me the benefit of believing that I knew what the pain in (now) both of my heels meant. He said that he doubted that I had plantar's fasciitis, but that he'd put in a referral to the orthopedist, and in the meantime, I was to wear shoes ALL THE TIME. Even in my house.

So, time goes by. October fades into November, and November into December. The pain gets better for about 3 weeks. Then, it comes back stronger than ever. There have been several nights where the pain was so intense that tears came to my eyes. I'm getting madder and madder that I paid my co-pay for a visit to the doctor that did nothing to help me AND that I still have no referral. Finally, after one too many painful evenings and one to many nags from JF, I call the doctor's office to complain that I STILL haven't gotten my referral. It must have worked, because -- Lo and behold! -- the very next morning, I had a call informing me that my appointment was a go.

I went to the Ortho yesterday morning, and STILL have hurting feet. The ortho ordered x-rays, which showed that I have very small bone spurs on my left heel, in both the front and back, and a smaller one on the back of the right. The Ortho Doc, however, says that "85% of the time, this problem self-corrects." He gives me these exercises to do (already doing them, which I told him) and tells me to get lifts for my shoes (already had them, which I told him.) He then goes on to say that I should take some ibuprofen for the pain, and maybe roll a frozen water bottle underneath my feet a few times a day. Yeah. Like I have time to do that.

He also says that if the pain doesn't go away with the exercises and the water bottle trick, to come see him in a month, and he may recommend physical therapy. Hooray. All I want is to not have to walk around in pain all the time.

When In Doubt: Meme!

2008-11-29T10:00:00.001-05:00

Saw this meme on travels across the Internets, so I have appropriated it. Here you go!

---------------------------------------

* Name: KLee
* Birthday: October 15th
* Birthplace: CityOfMyBirth
* Current location: HumidityLikeABrickWall
* Eye color: blue
* Hair color: mostly blonde
* Height: 6 foot
* Righty or lefty: righty-tighty!
* Zodiac sign: Libra

LAYER TWO:
* Your heritage: English, Irish, Scots, German, and some assorted Scandinavian thrown in for good measure.
* The shoes you wore today: my black-and-red Disney Crocs.
* Your weakness: books, chocolate, crafting supplies
* Your fears: guns, my spouse or child becoming ill, car accidents.
* Your perfect pizza: Giordano’s Stuffed Pizza’s with double sausage.
* Goals you’d like to achieve: go back to college; travel to Europe again.

LAYER THREE:
* Your most overused phrase on AIM: I don’t use it. It’s INFESTED with spyware!
* Your first waking thoughts: “Just another hour, please!”
* Your best physical feature: eyes
* Your most missed memory: holding my daughter when she was a baby and breathing in the wonderful baby smell.

LAYER FOUR:
* Pepsi or Coke: I’m a Southerner. It’s ALL Coke down here, though I prefer Cherry Coke.
* McDonald’s or Burger King: lately, Burger King. Offspring’s addicted to Whoppers.
* Single or group dates: I haven’t dated in about 20 years, so I abstain.
* Adidas or Nike: Nike. They’ve got good arch support.
* Lipton Ice Tea or Nestea: Out of those two choices, I prefer Lipton, though it’s basically six of one, one half dozen of another.
* Chocolate or vanilla: Chocolate, baby!
* Cappuccino or coffee: Cappuccino.

LAYER FIVE:
* Smoke: Nope – I’m allergic to cigarette smoke.
* Cuss: Far more than I should!
* Sing: every chance I get!
* Take a shower everyday: Yep – I’m rather finicky about personal odor.
* Do you think you’ve been in love: Yes, a few times, but I’ve found my great love, and we’re still together today!
* Want to go to college: I’d love to go back!
* Liked high school: Yeah, once I got to public school. Private school was akin to torture.
* Want to get married: Already am!
* Believe in yourself: sometimes. Sometimes, not often enough.
* Get motion sickness: Even while standing still. Or by looking at a glass of water.
* Think you’re attractive: No.
* Think you’re a health freak: Definitely not, but I need to be healthier.
* Get along with your parent(s): Most of the time. My dad’s a bit pissed at me at the mo, but he’ll get over it, I hope.
* Like thunderstorms: As long as I don’t have to go out in them.
* Play an instrument: No, but I sure wish I could.

LAYER SIX: In the past month…
* Drank alcohol: eh – I had a small sip of wine at Thanksgiving.
* Smoked: no
* Done a drug: nothing illegal – otherwise, plenty of Excedrin Migraine.
* Made out: Is it still considered “making out” if it’s with your husband?!
* Gone on a date: not really. It doesn’t count if you two take your teenager to dinner, right?
* Gone to the mall: yes
* Eaten an entire box of Oreos: No. I don’t think I’ve ever eaten a whole box of Oreos.
* Eaten sushi: Nope. Allergic to seafood.
* Been on stage: not in the last month, though I’m working on it!
* Been dumped: no
* Gone skating: no
* Made homemade cookies: yes. LOVE cookies!
* Gone skinny dipping: No. I wouldn’t subject people to the sight on my nude flesh. Yeesh!
* Dyed your hair: just missed it – about six weeks ago.
* Stolen Anything: no

LAYER SEVEN: Ever…
* Played a game that required removal of clothing: yes -- we played a lot of Strip Twister in college....
* Been trashed or extremely intoxicated: yes
* Been caught “doing something”: yes
* Been called a tease: yeah, but he was a jerk.
* Gotten beaten up: yes, but I gave as good as I got, and probably better.
* Shoplifted: yes, and my Grandmother caught me, made me apologize, write a letter, AND I got my butt beaten for it by her and THEN my father.
* Changed who you were to fit in: Yes, though it didn’t help in the end.

LAYER EIGHT:
* Age you hope to be married: Well, I was married at 22, so I’ll go with that.
* Numbers and names of children: We have just the one, whom you all know as “Offspring.”.
* Describe your dream wedding: My wedding was held on November 28^th in a local park's gazebo. It was beautiful.
* How do you want to die: Painlessly, and when I’m old and ready to go.
* Where you want to go to college: I’d love to go to college in London, but that’s a pipe dream.
* What do you want to be when you grow up: An archaeologist.

* What country would you most like to visit: England, specifically, but anywhere in Europe will do, really.

LAYER NINE:
* Number of drugs taken illegally: None. I’m rather a prude about drugs.
* Number of people I could trust with my life: about six, maybe.
* Number of CDs that I own: Lots. Too many to count.
* Number of piercings: two. One in each ear. They used to be double-pierced, but they grew over LONG ago.
* Number of tattoos: none, though I want a specific one. I once had it priced out, and it was going to be about $600. I’m not white-trash enough to finance a tattoo.
* Number of times my name has appeared in the newspaper: Maybe twenty? Twenty-five? Marriage announcement, Offspring’s birth announcement, play reviews…
* Number of scars on my body: Big Scars – one on my right arm where I had a basal cell carcinoma cut off, one on my left knee where I cut my leg open to the bone, and my right thumb, which was cut off in a car accident when I was 12. Lots of small ones....
* Number of things in my past that I regret: Plenty!

Give Thanks

2008-11-27T11:19:00.004-05:00

I am thankful for so many things, among them all the friends I've made through blogging. I hope all of you have a marvelous Thanksgiving!

In Which I Am A Twittery Teenage Girl

2008-11-23T19:57:00.002-05:00

My friend (I'll call her "Small, But Sassy") and I have both long been sucked into the world of Stephenie Meyer's "Twilight." I had read books one and two back in the early summer, and had loaned them to S,BS shortly after. We were both hooked but good.

We both loved the storylines and characters, and quickly read and reread books one through three. (S,BS has read book four, which I have not yet done, but she plans to let me borrow her copy tomorrow.) So, when we heard a movie was coming out, we flapped out hands, said "Ohmigawd!" about ten times, and made plans to go.

We went to an afternoon showing today, and mingled with the hordes of Goths who actually braved the sunlight enough to venture out of their dank cubbyholes. We felt a little weirded out that we were probably the oldest people in the theater, but we settled back with popcorn and Cherry Cokes to ~~drool over~~ watch Edward. And everyone else.

I'd seen a lot of reviews that stated that the effects were not all that good, and the cast was full of "nobodies." S,BS and I both enjoyed it, and we plan to stay up late and talk about it on the phone while we paint our nails and trash what everyone in school is wearing. And then we'll look forward to the sequels we're sure are to follow.

Is That Ethical?

2008-11-19T18:15:00.001-05:00

I had to stay late after school today to attend an Ethics Seminar. Now, being educators, we have to adhere to certain rules about revealing/not revealing student information, and we are obligated BY LAW to report suspected abuse. These were things I already knew. Imagine our surprise when the presenters started putting up Power Point slides of things that have actually happened (either in our state or our district) as a "What NOT to Do" sort of lesson.

Apparently, it is unethical to:

*...have a Blood Alcohol Level of .314 while at work.

*...say you are doing a jewelry fundraiser for the school, but keep the money for yourself.

*...invite students to disrobe at the hotel pool while on a school trip.

*...quit in the middle of the day, leaving your keys and resignation letter taped to your classroom door.

*...refuse to come to work because you are in jail.

*... call a student and her mother derogatory names.

*...buy cocktails for students at the neighborhood bar-n-grill, even if it is after-hours.

Now, who in their right mind could have EVER thought any of this was a good idea? People, get a grip on reality!

A Public Service Announcement

2008-11-17T16:18:00.001-05:00

To most normal people, when they are unexpectedly given a gift, they ask for the whys and the wherefores. Not me! To the unexpected gift that I was given today, I will just say THANK YOU! My prayers have been answered, and I am not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

This will be a MAJOR anti-whine this week!

Should I?

2008-11-12T20:51:00.002-05:00

Or, alternately titled: "My Husband Reserves the Right To Say 'I Told You So.'"

I got an interesting proposition that I want to share with you, and in turn, pick your collective brains about. Most of you who've been reading my blog for a while know that I spent 6 years as a Girl Scout Leader. For anyone other than those three loyal, longtime readers, I spent 6 years as a Girl Scout Leader. My troop went kaflooey in a rather spectacular manner two years ago. It was all a lot of histrionic, middle-school bull that got drawn WAAAY out of proportion, with my family cast as the villains. This was, in no way, close to actual fact. My troop folded, and I've continued volunteering as an adult with my local area, and as a parent in the troop I asked for my daughter to be placed in.

At our adult meeting Tuesday evening, I was approached by someone at our local office who told me that there is tremendous interest for a Daisy troop at my school. Daisies are the youngest level of Scouting, the kindergarten (and now, since the big age-level reorganization) first grade girls. Since, this is the age I teach, and at the very school where most of the interest lies, I was approached as possible leadership for this troop.

Now, there are plenty of pros and cons.

Pros:
*I could ease back into leadership this way.
*I already have a possible co-leader lined up.
*It would be very convenient for me, personally, to meet at my workplace.
*It's an age that I'm VERY familiar with, and so is my potential co-leader.
*There are a lot less "woes" working with the younger girls -- pretty much everyone is happy to be part of the program, and there's not the middle-school attitude to contend with.
*My Girl Scouting mentor did Daisy leadership for YEARS, so I have a good source of ideas and tips at the ready.
*I've been a leader for years, so it's not like it would be ALL new to me.
*Daisies is a two-year program, and I have the option to stay where I am, and have the girls move on without me. This would mean new blood every two years at the most.
*Daisies is a more hands-on, crafting, having fun version of Scouting than some of the other levels, where it's go-go-go all the time.
*My principal has given permission to have meetings in our school buildings. (You would not believe how many schools/principals *don't* allow this!) This is already one dilemma off my back.
*Offspring could help me out occasionally, and could even earn her Program Aide status this way.

Cons:
*Parents. You can never predict if you're gonna get the good ones, or the bad ones.
*Still a possibility for not-so-likeable girls, but possibilities for those are lower the younger the girls are.
*Taking over a leadership role would mean more time away from my family, and more training classes.
*Paperwork out the wazoo, on top of the paperwork that I already keep track of for my local area.
*Cookies. It's a hassle when it's my own daughter, but they're letting Daisies sell cookies this year.
*If I decide to do it, can I get it up and rolling before the new year? If I can't, should we still sell cookies? The order-taking starts in January, so it would be cutting it close.
*It's a lot of work, and can be physically exhausting.
*If I don't do it, these girls probably won't get placed until late spring, at the earliest. A more realistic expectation would be that we lose them entirely, because we have no one willing to step up into the leadership role. I would hate for that to happen.
*Little to no parental help is a distinct possibility. Since we work in an economically disadvantaged school, we are more likely to have parents who either cannot afford to help, or just plain don't want to help. This may mean more personal, out-of-pocket expenses for me. Though, I do not mind doing that AT ALL if the girls benefit.

So, what do you think? Should I take the plunge?I had a lot of heartache with my old troop, but they were much older, and all awash with tween angst and hormones galore. There's no guarantees that there would be a repeat of last time, but there's also nothing to indicate that they'll be angels, either. Anytime you undertake a venture like this, you run the risk of having it all not turn out anything like you planned. But, I think with a good friend who has my back as co-leader; and with girls I'm most likely familiar with already -- maybe it wouldn't be a total disaster.

Am I mental for even considering it? I liked being a leader. I liked teaching girls all about the program, and watching them grow stronger within themselves with the good foundation that Scouting gives them. I like watching them learn, and knowing that I helped them. I did not like all the drama and hurt feelings with my last troop. I really disliked having my daughter exposed to all that: drama, hurt feelings, and maligned and slandered parents. It was almost worse for her, because she not only lost her troop, but she lost her innocence with Scouting as well. She saw people for the manipulative sneaks that they were, and at the cost of her parents' reputations. And it was not pretty.

Should I expose myself, and my family, to all of that again? Is it worth it?

So It Begins

2008-11-07T21:08:00.001-05:00

You know, I knew there was always going to be a section of the populace that was going to be unhappy, no matter which way the election turned out. Obama supporters would have been outraged at the thought that America was still stuck in the Dark Ages where a black man wasn't fit to run the nation, and subject to four more years of George Bush-style foreign policy and tanking economy; and McCain supporters are all up in arms, declaring that America is now headed by a "terrorist" and that we're all going to hell in a Muslim handbasket.

I live in a red state. And, not just a *red* red state -- my state is so red that it makes scarlet look like pink. Most of the counties in my state went for McCain. Here and there, there were pockets of seditious blue, but McCain carried my state quite handily. I never really thought Obama would actually WIN the state, but I thought he might do fairly well in large metropolitan areas. This proved so in a few cases, and not everyone was happy about it.

Two guys planned to go on a spree, killing African Americans and culminating in an Obama assassination attempt, all while wearing white tuxedos and top hats? Yeah, this is a real *sensible* way to state that you're a mite unhappy with a black president. Instead of discussing ways to get involved with your community and help make a difference, we'll just kill the guy we don't like because he's different. When has it become an option that *murder* is a viable means of expressing your discontent?

There's also a story that's been circulating, not only in this part of the country, but I happened to see it mentioned on the Daily Kos as well. It seems that a small town pediatrician sent an email to her staff -- she was very unhappy with what she saw as their lack of a proper work ethic -- but in it, she calls Obama "evil incarnate." Man, I didn't know he was THAT powerful as to be the living embodiment of the forces of darkness.

What in hell is *WRONG* with people?!? I mean, I'll admit I wasn't all totally gung-ho about some of Obama's policies and past associations, but I would have not been happy with a McCain assassination plan, either. Marni had a great philosophy that she told her daughter: "I told Bug that we may/may not like who was elected, but we have to look at the bigger picture. He IS our President and we should support him no matter what. We may/may not agree with what he wants to do, but we are all Americans and he is now the leader of this country."

That's the kind of stuff we need. We need people who are willing to go on, and accept change, even though it may not be what you want, and even though it may not have been what you would have chosen for yourself. I'm not saying that you have to become a fan overnight, but at least give the man a chance.

As Promised

2008-11-03T16:40:00.005-05:00

Here is Offspring, sporting her Halloween costume. With her fascination with anything Japanese lately, she demanded a kimono. The ones we saw in stores were all skanky-looking -- too short in length, and made of very flimsy material.

I told Offspring that I could *make* a better costume than what we could find in stores, and she took that bet. She found a lovely black satin fabric for the actual kimono -- you may not be able to tell, but it's embroidered all over with silver butterflies. We chose the scarlet satin fabric for the obi as a splash of color.

My only complaint about the whole construction process was that this lovely fabric unraveled like a son-of-a-gun. I used an entire tube of fray block on all the seams to cut down on so much "shedding", but I still found strands of it all over the place.

It was rather heavy fabric, and I thought that Offspring might regret her choice once Halloween arrived. Living where we do, I can count on one hand the number of times that it's been cold for Trick or Treating. This was one of them, however, and the heavy fabric helped insulate her. I'm glad she was warm, because I was fricking freezing my noonies off.

Bonus conversation:

Me: Do you want to go the whole geisha route, and do the makeup and everything?

O: No. Makeup makes me look like a whore, Mom.

Yeah. Classy. When I asked her why she thought she looked "like a whore" in makeup, she just quirked an eyebrow at me, and I cunningly deduced that some experimentation had been going on behind closed doors.

Is Anyone Out There?

2008-10-27T17:39:00.001-04:00

For the last few days, Blogrolling has been acting very wonky. The first I noticed of said wonkitude was when I went to go look through my blogroll, and the blogroll was just gone. I went over to Blogrolling to see if I could just capture my code and repaste it into my template, but the entire site was down.

That's not a good omen.

So, for the last five or so days, Blogrolling hasn't been informing me of anyone who has updated. I have to click through to find out myself. And now I'm curious to know if maybe it's preventing anyone from seeing my last post. No one has commented on it. Not that it was such riveting fare that you were all falling all over yourselves to comment, but usually there's at least a Japanese spammer who chimes in.

I've decided I hate Blogrolling. I guess I should switch to HaloScan or something else.

Not much is happening here. Just trying to stay sane, though that's not really working either. I've finished Offspring's Halloween costume, for the most part, and now all I have to do is get my crafting stuff together. Christmas is coming up pretty fast, and I have very little done for that. Again. I feel like I need a week off. Or three.

The Weekend Is Getting Shorter

2008-10-20T16:26:00.002-04:00

It seemed like the weekend went by way too fast, and I had no time to really get anything done.

I went out with a friend for a few hours on Saturday for fun and crafting, and then went to dinner on Saturday evening followed by the ever-scintillating pasttime: grocery shopping. We don't normally spend our Saturday evenings buying groceries, but we knew that Sunday was going to be chock-a-block, so we got it out of the way early.

On Sunday, I had to attend a friend's father's visitation. He passed away on my birthday, and the family was planning on a private funeral, so Sunday was really the only day that I could be there to support my friend.

Monday morning rolled around, bright and early. Way too early for my taste, actually. Which, sadly, leaves me with laundry undone and crafts uncrafted. I'm still working on Offspring's Halloween costume, which is almost done. I have to put the finishing touches on it, and then I promise to post a picture of her in it.

The Halloween crafts that I'm in the middle of making may get done, and then again, may not. Hopefully, I have time to finish those as well. If this weekend is any indication, then I think I'm in trouble.

Stuff I've Been Doing

2008-10-13T16:39:00.004-04:00

As I mentioned in the post before last, I've been busy crafting. I had a craft team meeting a month or so ago that helped get some creative juices flowing.

Here are some pictures of things that I've been rolling around in my head for a bit...

Halloween is coming, Offspring and JF's favorite holiday. I have to dig out all the Halloween decorations and finish making Offspring's costume.

I have treat bags that I need to put together for my class, and now Offspring wants my little paper coffins with Gummy bones inside that were such a hit a couple of years ago for *her* class.

Not to mention all the other cute stuff that I see that I want to make, too! And then I've got to turn it all around and do it for Christmas, too?

Sheesh! Now maybe you see why I'm not blogging so much anymore!

Just Plain Disturbing

2008-10-10T17:15:00.000-04:00

My husband, who spends a lot of time on the internet, spied this story a while back and sent it to me via email. He said what disturbed him at the time was not just that this incident had happened, but *had happened before.* I'll consider myself lucky if I can get him to drive BY the doctor's office from now on....

___________________________________________

A Kentucky man who claims his penis was removed without his consent during what was supposed to be a circumcision has sued the doctor who performed the surgery.

Phillip Seaton, 61, and his wife are seeking unspecified compensation from Dr. John M. Patterson and the medical practice that performed the circumcision for "loss of service, love and affection." The Seatons also are seeking unspecified punitive damages from Patterson and the medical practice, Commonwealth Urology.

A woman who answered the phone at Commonwealth Urology would not take a message for the doctor Thursday. But the Seaton's attorney said the doctor's post-surgical notes show the doctor thought he detected cancer and removed the penis. Attorney Kevin George said a later test did detect cancer.

"It was not an emergency," George told The Associated Press on Thursday. "It didn't have to happen that way."

Seaton was having the procedure on Oct. 19, 2007, to better treat inflammation.

The lawsuit filed earlier this month in state court claims Patterson removed Seaton's penis without consulting either Phillip or Deborah Seaton, or giving them an opportunity to seek a second opinion.

The couple also sued the anesthesiologist, Dr. Oliver James of Shelbyville, claiming he used a general anesthesia even though Seaton asked that it not be administered.

A message left at Commonwealth Urology's corporate office in Lexington was not immediately returned Thursday. A message left for James also was not immediately returned.

The Seatons' suit is similar to one in which an Indianapolis man was awarded more than $2.3 million in damages after he claimed his penis and left testicle were removed without his consent during surgery for an infection in 1997.

Nothin' Much To Report

2008-10-07T16:47:00.005-04:00

I know I've been a terrible blog-hostess lately, but there's nothing really earth shattering happening in my corner of the universe.

I've been doing a lot of crafty stuff, both making stuff of my own and holding workshops. I have plenty more pics of this sort of stuff, but not everyone is crafty, and nor would you all appreciate thousands and thousands of pictures of the stuff I've made recently.

I've been trying not to maim or kill mah kitteh, since she has reverted to her diabolical plan of not letting anyone in the house sleep once night rolls around.

I've got a doctor's appointment in the morning for my feet. I still have bruising left over on my right foot from when I broke my ankle in April of 2007, and now I have plantar's fasciitis in my left foot, making things like walking excruciatingly painful. And making work oh-so-much fun!

My birthday is in a week, and I feel old, old, old. This was not made any better by my father's birthday card which arrived today, and had the wrong age on it. Thanks for making me feel a year older than I am, Dad! (I guess that's payback for all the times in my youth when I derided him for his many years on earth.... I don't like Payback. She's not nice.)

So, nothing mind-blowing to report. Sorry to disappoint all of you who have come to expect scintillating fare from me. Maybe I'll have something good to share soon!

The Pendulum Swings

2008-09-30T19:01:00.003-04:00

Cruising through the TV channels yesterday after work, I noticed that Dr. Phil was doing a show featuring "helicopter parents." The question he asked was: Do we, as parents, let our children have no freedom at all, or do we stand back and let them do everything on their own?

The answer, in my opinion, is neither. You have to walk a fine line between the two. If you let your child have no rules, no boundaries at all, they grow up thinking that they have to follow no rules at all -- either that of adults or of society. That's not a realistic expectation. If you go the other extreme, however, you run the risk of having a child become secretive to hide the "forbidden" behaviors you've driven them into. That's the reason why we have the stereotype of the preacher's daughter -- denied all the fun and taboo things in life, so they rebel and are (a lot of the time) the wildest kids around. Now, for all my preacher friends out there, I'm not talking about YOUR kids. :)

Dr. Phil also had a mother on who has taken a lot of flack in the press recently -- a mother who let her 9 year old son find his way home, alone, from Bloomingdale's. Now, some key points of this particular story (for those of you who don't know of it and live under a rock, or something) are: the child had ASKED to do this sort of activity for a while; the parents discussed it beforehand, and decided it was feasible; the child was not *abandoned* -- he had a city map, a subway Metro card, and $20. As an aside, I would be interested to know whether or not he had a cell phone with him in case of emergency, but we're not told if he has one or not. The mother took the boy to Bloomingdale's, and the child had to find his way home from there. The parents looked at his abilities, and decided that this was something that thought that not only he was CAPABLE of doing, but also SHOULD do so that he would be better able to navigate the city and find his way around.

The mother has gotten bushels of hate mail, saying she's the 'worst Mom in America.' Why would you think she was a terrible mother for giving her child the freedom to explore and learn how to do things on his own? If you never let a child out of your sight, they'll either grow up terribly repressed and run like hell the moment they get any freedom at all, or they will be so stunted as to not know how to deal with other people and with any obstacles that life throws at them. I'm not saying that you should take your kid from East Podunk, Missouri and drop them off in the big city with a ten spot and a map -- that would be completely irresponsible.

What we're talking about here is letting children have some freedoms within reason. How many of you played outside all day when you were younger? People my age ought to remember playing outside without parental supervision -- I remember my mother telling me that I had to be home either by the time the street lights came on, or when she called us for dinner. I was a bookworm as a child (still am, really) and my mother would take away my books and send me outside as *punishment!* I had to go out and find something to do. Ride my bike, go to the playground, find a friend... We've gotten so scared of horrible things happening to our kids that we can't IMAGINE sending them outside all day long. There's something very sad about that. No one wants their kids to be hurt, abducted, or worse, God forbid, but we can't wrap them in Bubble Wrap and closet them away forever. If we never let anything happen to them, nothing will ever happen to them. And, not only will they be totally unprepared to take on obstacles when they're older, they'll also be too frightened to take on new tasks and expect us to bail them out should the slightest thing go wrong.

Conversation At The Dinner Table

2008-09-24T19:25:00.002-04:00

We were eating dinner last night, when I spied an empty shoe box in the corner. JF had gotten new shoes over the weekend, and I was curious to know how they were working out for him.

Me: Oh, yeah. How are your new shoes? Are you getting them all broken in?

JF: They're fine. What's "broken" is my back, not my shoes.

(JF has spent the last several weeks toting endless numbers of computers around old historical buildings which have no elevators, only cramped stairwells.)

Me: Ooh. Sorry about that. (Grimaces in empathetic pain...)

JF: Yeah, I keep asking for a new spine but you haven't gotten me one yet.

Me: Don't you know -- there's a shortage on them right now, what with the political scene and the banking world the way it is. Seems like everyone's looking for a new spine.

Just Gone

2008-09-20T22:00:00.007-04:00

Like jo(e) has extra kids, we have extra cats. We've often joked within our family that Offspring is a cat herder -- they just flock to her. Everywhere we go, cats find her, seek her out, and befriend her. And Offspring never met a cat she didn't immediately take to.

We have our actual cat, Lotus, whom we adopted when Offspring was a little over two years old. Then came the extras. Offspring was small, maybe about four when the first extra started showing up. He was this humongous gray cat who was lovable like a teddy bear. Offspring, in her childlike wisdom, named him Grady.

Grady weighed about 25 pounds, but none of it was fat. He was all muscle, and loved to hunt. We marveled at the time we watched him chase some poor hapless creature up the small tree in the neighbor's yard. The blue jays -- who are very territorial -- chased him all over the yard one afternoon, angry because he was too near their area. Grady was obviously just humoring them until he wearied of the game. The blue jays swooped down on him one too many times; two followed him into a nearby bush, but only one came out.

Grady always presented himself when you opened the front door in the mornings, twining around your ankles in search of pettings and food. Our main computer sits in our living room beside the picture window, and he would climb up and stare in at you with baleful eyes, for those pettings and food. He had a sissy-sounding meow for such a large cat.

We figured he'd been someone's pet at some point, since he was neutered, and seemed healthy. He wore no tags; had no collar. He roamed the neighborhood, charming all the residents. We were not the only house that laid a food bowl out for him, and our other extra who joined him a year or so later.

About two months ago, we noticed that Grady had a lump on his left shoulder, right where the leg socket meets the feline torso. At first, we thought it was just a clump of matted fur from where he'd gotten brushed with some pine sap that had hardened. We didn't give it much thought. But, as time went by, that lump got larger. It didn't seem to distress him -- he didn't howl when you touched it, and it didn't seem to pain him or interfere with his walking. We debated on what to do about it. We couldn't afford a trip to the vet. We could probably barely afford it if one of us got sick, much less an expensive vet's bill. The last time we took him to the vet it ended up costing us $580 that we didn't have then, and are still paying off.

By the middle of August, though... that lump was so large that it WAS affecting his walking, and he began squealing when you tried to hold him, something he'd never done before. We began to despair a little more every time we saw him.

We agonized over what to do. Do we put ourselves into further debt, and take him to the vet? Do we try and find a local animal hospital to take him as a charity case? Should we try the local, no-kill rescue group? Do we take him to the Humane Society, who, despite the name, will surely euthanize him? JF cried for days, the hurt for this lovable animal taken in as if it were his own pain. I tried researching animal rescue groups, but there were none near enough, and no one out there who wanted a sick animal for nothing in return. JF called the no-kill place time and time again, begging them to get Grady some help. They hemmed and hawed, but eventually gave him some lip service about "checking with the director" and never called again.

One morning, when Offspring and I went out to some function, JF tearfully, finally bundled Grady up in a towel and drove him to Animal Control. The vets there thought for sure that the lump was some kind of tumor, most likely cancerous. Whatever it was, they said, it wasn't good. You know it's not good when they go get everyone else in the building to come look at it. They took pity on JF, seeing the obvious distress the poor man was in, telling him they'd take care of him. They took our name and phone number, assuring him they'd call. They never did. Grady was just gone.

I step to the front door often, expecting to see him sunning himself on our porch. He's not there. I hear a noise from the picture window, and get a little leap in my heart, thinking he's back. It's not him. It's never him. Passing by the pet aisle at the grocery store, my hands automatically go toward the bag of food I bought for him for so many years. It's like he was never there; he's just gone.

JF beats himself up still, calling himself a monster. I try to reason with him, knowing there's nothing that I can say that will really make it all right. He tortures himself, talking about how Grady howled and tried to run from him -- this sweet animal who never ran from us before. How he looked at him, as JF drove him away from his home. We all cry. We explain to Offspring why we felt we had to take him. The words sound hollow even as I say them. It still hurts, and I still hope to see him sauntering across the street. I don't suppose I'll ever stop hoping that one day, he'll come home, even though my head knows he won't.

I miss you, Grady, every day. I'm so sorry, boy. We wanted so much to help you, but we just couldn't. Love wasn't enough.

Offspring with Grady in happier times.

The Stepford Republicans

2008-09-12T16:32:00.002-04:00

As most of you know, I'm rather fond of crafting. When I'm not posting pseudonymously, I am an independent salesperson for a specific company* which is a great source of inspiration, education, and a great big hole in my pocketbook. I truly do love a lot of the things that have come my way since I've started stamping and creating, and I've been lucky enough to share my passion with lots of great people.

I went to a meeting the other day, with a lot of other consultants. The purpose was to discuss our new product lines, and a chance to get together and craft some as well. The ladies were talking about a project that would have normally taken a lot longer to put together, but was greatly assisted by a new die cut machine that we're selling. The hostess mentioned that she cut out all of the elements and assembled them all while watching Sarah Palin at the RNC. Most of the other ladies began to gush about how much they just LOVED her, and wasn't she just fabulous?!

Eeek.

Tense moment. Luckily, I was looking through a catalog, and no one was paying me any attention anyway. Good thing I wasn't making eye contact, or I could have been swept away by the pod people.

You know, I have no qualms with a woman as Vice President. Heck, I was even prepared to vote of Hilary Clinton to run the entire shebang (though it would have killed me a little inside to do so...) but Sarah Palin? No, thank you. She does not get my vote just because she has a vagina.

I know people are very polarized by things like abortion, money, capital punishment, and politics. It is not my wish that I offend anyone with my opinion, but I am allowed to have one. And Sarah Palin is not anyone I really want running this country.

She's anti-gay, anti-gay marriage, pro-gun, pro-life, and as far from green as the color spectrum allows. Let's not even talk about the state of education in Alaska, and never mind the lack of experience in running either a town or a state, much less the whole shootin' match.

John McCain, sadly, will win some people over to his side with Palin as a running mate. I just won't be one of them.
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*If any of you are interested in this sort of stuff, you can email me for info and/or the company website.

Just Living

2008-09-09T17:17:00.002-04:00

I'm here, though I don't have much worthy to post. (Except the stuff I *can't* post about, like the temper-tantrum, spoiled rotten kid I have this year....)

*Offspring has settled in to seventh grade -- it's hard to believe that she's already in seventh grade -- and seems to be enjoying seeing her friends, if not overjoyed at the idea of being back at school.

*Juggling Freak is ass-deep in alligators at work, which is necessitating long days and excessive crankiness from people who wish (and can't get) his services. It also makes him stumblingly tired. Poor guy... I just try to provide him with foot rubs to make it all better.

*I have a lot of craft projects to take pictures of and post, but I keep forgetting to do that.

*Why in blue blazes do middle schoolers need so many fricking binders and composition books?!? And what genius decided my daughter's school did NOT need lockers, meaning that they have to tote 20-pound bookbags around?

------------------

Offspring Moment Of The Day: I was talking with her after school the other day, discussing her classes, and how she likes her teachers... all that sort of jazz... She was telling me about her French class, and I mentioned that I could help her with pronunciation, if she needed it. She mumbled, "Yeah...", clearly just responding, and not really *hearing* me. Then, light dawned -- "Hey! Yeah! You *can * help me!" The other shoe dropped, and she remembered that French was my language in school.

Hoppin' Mad

2008-09-05T18:18:00.003-04:00

As we all know, you must now have credit checks and give your firstborn up if you want to fill your car up with gas. Since my daily commute to work is five minutes *with* traffic, I haven't had to spend much money on said detestable fossil fuel since early June.

Anyway.... ever since gas prices got freakin' ridiculous, I have kept an eye peeled for a "deal" on gas. I was glad then, to see that the little convenience store around the corner from my house had a "deal" yesterday.

The posted price for regular unleaded was $3.54. While this isn't the $.99 cents I'd love it to be, it's a heck of a lot better than the $4.08 (I think) that we got up to at the high point of the insanity.

I pulled in to gas up. I pushed the button for the REGULAR UNLEADED because I *never* buy premium (you have to pony up the credit check, some DNA, the kid, an arm AND an ovary for premium) and started the pump.

I happened to be looking in the direction of the LCD screen, so I noticed that the display went from zero to almost a dollar and a half immediately. The pump had flipped to premium! I was already pumping, and I needed gas, so I kept going. When I printed out my receipt, I realized that they'd pulled the classic bait and switch -- they lured me in with the low price and then they set the pumps to automatically switch to premium. Nice, huh?

I plan on complaining as soon as I can a.) find someone who gives a damn, and b.) find out who you report this sort of thing to in my area.

Damned price gougers! Made me so mad....

A Seizure Waiting To Happen

2008-08-31T22:14:00.005-04:00

As I mentioned a post or two ago, teachers are already back at work here in HumidityLikeABrickWall. A lot of changes have taken place in my school since summer break. A lot of classes were shuffled around; we got a lot of new staff members; and a lot of maintenance was done on the grounds while we were away. We got some technological upgrades, and some building beautification projects were done.

One that went horribly, horribly wrong was the ladies' room near my new classroom. Before, the bathroom was your typical institutional bathroom: tile walls and floor, steel stall, gurgling toilet. It was painted in nondescript colors, and it was always slightly dusty-smelling. Like I said, your typical elementary school bathroom. By virtue of being an adults-only bathroom, it at least was not subjected to the constant pervasive smell of urine like the kids' toilets. Most adults have better aim. *Most* adults.

After lunch on Monday (and a 32oz. glass of lemonade), I developed a need to use the facilities and went down the hall. Upon entering the bathroom, however, the need to go suddenly evaporated. I was so shocked by the changes that all thoughts of evacuation left me. Some of us may go to the bathroom for a few minutes to calm down, or it may be the one chance during the day that we get to ourselves -- how can they *do* this to us?!

All I could think, with the paint job and the flickering fluorescent lighting, was: "This is a seizure waiting to happen." Either that, or someone watches *waaaay* too much Nickelodeon. I was horrified beyond the need to pee. And that's saying something.

I'm now scared to go to the bathroom. I guess I'll just have to hold it until I get home.

Tales Of Asshattery

2008-08-28T18:55:00.003-04:00

On Wednesday, I decided I needed a haircut before wild animals started nesting in the mess on top of my cranium. I headed to one of the local malls to the Hair Cuttery Place. When I arrived, there was a Cheerleader Type at the sign-in desk, paying her bill. To my right, there was Young Redneck checking out his haircut in the mirror. He finished scrutinizing the back of his head (with the aid of well-placed mirrors) and slouched up to the desk.

I should have known when he butted in front of me, invading my personal space, that he was TRULY a high class kind of guy. He began to badger the girl about why her paying was taking so long. Cheerleader Type is scrounging on the bottom of her handbag for coins to pay their bill as she grumbles about why the bill was so high. The stylist/desk clerk looks a mite pissed as all this unfolds.

The two grumble a bit, but eventually turn and walk out of the salon. When I step up to the desk to sign in, I notice that Cheerleader Type has left her straw purse on the counter. I tell the clerk, and she and I both call out to CT that she's left her bag, and she stomps back in to get it.

The other stylist is working VERY slowly on the person in front of her, peering out into the hall to watch the pair's departure. A scant minute after the duo leave, the Young Redneck marches back into the store and asks the stylist/desk clerk how he can go about getting a refund. Huh? The stylist/desk clerk tells YR that their corporate policy is not to give out cash refunds, and she hands him a business card. She tells him to call the number on the back -- their corporate office -- and they will tell him how to get his money back. He is not pleased with this news, and at this point, Cheerleader Type comes barrelling back into the store, demanding that the stylist/desk clerk open the cash drawer and give them their money back. When the s/dc repeats that they just don't do that, the CT huffs, "We'll just go get a security guard."

What good is a mall rent-a-cop going to do? Just imagine -- all that power, people! Anyway, they storm off, *again*, and the Slow Stylist finishes up with the client in her chair. A few minutes later, the Trailer Park Twins are back with a security guard in tow. They all stand in the salon entryway, and the TPT tell MallCop that they were not satisfied with Young Redneck's haircut, and that s/dc refused to give them a refund. At this point, s/dc leaves her client to come to the desk. The way she tells the story to the MallCop is quite different from the Trailer Park Twins' version.

Stylist/Desk Clerk explains that when the two came in, the YR requested "a $7 haircut." When the Slow Stylist explained that they did not *have* a $7 haircut, YR says that someone named "Jessica" always cuts his hair, and that she only charges him $7. Both stylists attempt to tell him that no one at their location is named Jessica, and sorry -- men's haircuts cost $13.95. He asks if maybe he could sweep the floor or something for a cut in the price. No go... $13.95. Slow Stylist starts to cut his hair, but he keeps complaining, and telling her she's not doing it right, so she asks the Stylist/Desk Clerk to take over. Apparently, YR is happy with neither stylist's efforts, and continues to complain.

The Cheerleader Type, who must be his girlfriend (since he keeps calling her "baby" and "babe") also gets a haircut, but she seems satisfied with hers. She goes to the desk to pay for both haircuts while YR checks himself out in the mirror and grouses. (This was when I arrived.) Cheerleader Type must not have had enough to pay for the bill, hence the dredging up of coins from every corner of that pocketbook.

MallCop says that the pair complains that the Stylist/Desk Clerk refused to help them or to refund a bad haircut. S/DC calmly explains to MallCop that it is their corporate policy that they not make refunds out of the till, that complaints have to be routed through the corporate office, who then decide if the situation warrants it. Nothing can be done until the manager gets notice from corporate to refund a customer. S/DC tells the MallCop that she gave the girl a card with the corporate phone number on it, and that complaints and requests for refunds have to be processed through the main headquarters, and not in individual salons.

YR struts around, crowing about how he's been coming to that particular salon for 12 years, and that he's never had such bad service. He tells MallCop that he's just not satisfied with his hair, and he wants it to be made right. Miss PerkyTits, on the other hand, complains that she wants to talk to the manager. S/DC tells her that the manager is not available because she's out on maternity leave. This does not please her, so she states that she's not leaving the store until she has her cash back in hand. S/DC calls the manager, and starts telling her the story. One fact that she relates that I was not present for was that the original total of their bill was $38.90, and that CT didn't have enough to pay that amount, so S/DC did them a favor by scanning in a 20% off coupon code. CT managed to scrape together this amount, and they paid and left. MallCop begins to understand that the Trailer Park Twins are pissed that the haircuts took every last red cent they had, and are now trying to recoup some of their money. Basically, they want something for nothing.

The two get more and more frazzled the longer they stand there, and at one point CT demands that both stylists refund them personally out of their tip money. That's when MallCop decides to give them the shuffle off to Buffalo. He tells them that they can either follow the steps outlined by S/DC, or they can file a complaint to go to small claims court. Yeah. They choose to leave. YR mutters something about going to get something to eat. My wonder was if they didn't have enough to pay the bill, where was money for a meal going to come from? The MallCop hangs around for a bit to make sure that they don't come back. Slow Stylist tells MallCop that she thinks YR was high. That would definitely explain the belligerence.

You know, I understand when you've not gotten what you paid for -- I've had a couple of haircuts that I was not altogether thrilled with -- but you just don't go to that salon anymore. You don't leave a tip, and you make future appointments elsewhere. These two were simply looking for something for nothing. The *only* thing in their favor was that they did not swear like hooligans at the stylists. Maybe they did learn something from their mothers after all.

Back to the Daily Grind

2008-08-25T21:16:00.003-04:00

Today was the first day back at school for teachers here in HumidityLikeABrickWall. Can you hear the joy dripping from my fingertips as I write that?

I slept about two hours last night, fighting my yearly "night owl readjusts to work schedule" battle. I was a mite tired today, and finally asked Juggling Freak to oblige me with a 30-minute catnap before making dinner this evening.

I hate the end of summer vacation, though I will appreciate the raise that will come with the dawning of a new school year. There's a lot to be done in the week before students arrive... On tomorrow's to-do list: die cut pieces for my door display, find a small bookshelf for my storybooks, die cut buses for cubby tags, and go through the mounds of crap in my bottom desk drawer and get rid of a lot of it.

Thursday is Open House for Offspring. We'll be attending to get her bus assignment and bus arrival time. Until then, she's marking time on the couch with her laptop and her last few hours of freedom.

Now, if we could only get rid of the torrential rain, we'd be good.

Woe! Vacation Has Ended!

2008-08-18T12:06:00.004-04:00

Offspring and I take a quick breather before riding the Maelstrom in Norway.

Juggling Freak meets his idol, Donald Duck. And, a Mexican Donald, at that!

We're back from Disney World, which was great as always, thanks for asking. We had a fairly successful onslaught against the teeming crowds -- the day we went to EPCOT was great. The weather was overcast and a bit windy, so it not only kept the crowds at bay, it also kept us from broiling like chickens. We started the day there with a ride on the newly refurb-ed Spaceship Earth, and then quickly on to Mission: Space and Soarin'. All rocked, I'm happy to report.

It was most crowded at Hollywood Studios (formerly MGM Studios) because everyone was attempting to ride Toy Story's Midway Mania. We rode it twice, and it was very entertaining. Juggling Freak won the family point spread the first ride through, and I won it the second go-round. My prize for winning was a virtual stuffed beaver. There's a joke in there, somewhere, but I'll be genteel, and not make it.)

Magic Kingdom day was good -- had very little wait time at Buzz Lightyear, and we got a Fastpass for Space Mountain that had us right on the ride, bypassing a 45 minute stand-by line. I love Fastpass! The update to Haunted Mansion was great! (It was closed for rehab when we went last year, so that was a bummer, but it was well worth the wait!) Other highlights of that day were Pirates (always a blast) and the Tomorrowland Transit Authority. The TTA used to be known as the People Mover, and I've always loved that ride.

Animal Kingdom was hot and humid, as always. Most of the time, riding Kilimanjaro Safaris is problematical -- the animals hide out when it's too hot. They search for any patch of shade, and get under it. I fully understand. I was looking for a shady spot to rest most of the day, myself. We saw few animals that particular day. Most of the ones we did see were sleeping. We also HAD TO ride Expedition Everest, and had a great lunch at The Yak and the Yeti. Offspring had a spicy Vietnamese dish called Pho, which impressed the waiter. He said most adults aren't adventurous enough to try that, much less a 12 year old.

We also spent a lovely day at Typhoon Lagoon, where JF and I swam with the sharks in the very cold 68 degree water. Offspring spent most of that day bodysurfing in the wave pool.

We encountered lots of families from the U.K. and a quite a lot of Chinese. We were surprised that there were so many Chinese vacationing with the Olympics going on, but as I pointed out, we flee our city like rats deserting the sinking ship any time there's a big to-do here, so what's to say the Chinese aren't the same? Plus, China's a pretty big place. There were also a lot of Chinese staff members who were working there, training for the opening of Hong Kong Disney.

We ended our trip with dinner at Chef Mickey's in the Contemporary Resort. Yum. Juggling Freak doesn't care for buffets, and even he was impressed. We all came away with aching tummies, and proceeded to sleep like the proverbial dead that night.

Juggling Freak took copious amounts of photos; we played, and spent lots of money; and we ate like complete gluttons. It was your typical Disney vacation.

Where Am I Again?

2008-08-07T20:35:00.001-04:00

No sooner than CCW and family drove away from the liquid air we call "humidity" that envelops our city, Offspring and I had to go home and finish packing for a four-day Girl Scout trip that her troop was taking. I was going along as a chaperone/driver, and we had lots to get in the car before our 8am start.

We headed for Helen, Georgia, a small resort town in the Blue Ridge mountains, and what was supposed to be around a five-hour trip from home. We learned a great many things on this trip. Chief among them were:

*What is supposed to be a five hour trip with 13 twelve year old girls will take you eight hours with bathroom stops and lunch.

*We are confirmed flatlanders. Mountains kick our collective tails.

*We stayed at a state park in what was called The Squirrel's Nest. On one of our trips into the park's Trading Post, the ranger working the register asked what section of the park we were staying in. When we told her, she grimaced, and said, "You brave people." We should have known then what we were in for.

*Girls are quite capable as being completely disgusting and flippant about personal hygiene as boys are. I never knew that girls could stink quite that bad.

*We went river tubing, which sounds like it would have been a complete blast, but which turned out to be awful. So awful, I think Dante has it in one of the levels of Hell somewhere. The reason it sucked donkeys was that the area, along with much of the region, is having a drought and the river levels were way down. I became very intimate with every damn rock in the river. Mostly on my shins and knees. I look like I was viciously mauled by a toddler. Pictures don't do it justice. I scraped both palms raw, both knees raw, and bruises from what feels like stem to stern. Had it actually been the normal river level, I think I would have enjoyed that experience, but couldn't this way.

*We're not real fond of being attacked by gigantic moths in the bathhouse while we shower. Just sayin'.

*When you have a Girl Scout who needs desperately to go to the bathroom at 3am, it is best to not critique your appearance in the mirror just then. Yes, your hair looks like crap -- it's 3am, and you're wearing a miner's headlamp. Get over yourself.

Despite all that, it was a fun trip. A lot of fun was had, and the girls all seemed to have a great time. I feel fricking old, but that didn't seem to faze them any.

Now, I have about a 24-hour turnaround time to wash clothes, catch up on saved TiVo programs, and repack for an 8am Saturday departure to Disney World. I'll post at some paint, but I can't tell you when.

I Finally Meet My (Non-Identical) Twin

2008-08-03T13:55:00.005-04:00

CCW and I meet up! (While Offspring hovers in the background.)

CCW and Mr. MFBA at lunch.

CCW and I have long since discovered all the ways that we are alike, and have often joked that we must have been twins separated at birth. (How I got to be four years older than her remains a mystery for the ages.)

She and her family had to travel to a family wedding this weekend in a city only 2 hours from mine. She decided that she was dragging the entire family to HumidityLikeABrickWall for a bloggy meetup since she was within a fairly good driving range.

We met up for lunch and a quick stroll around the touristy area. CCW is just as hilarious in person as she is online. She's bright, funny, and we had no shortage of things to talk about. Mr. MFBA was a good sport, driving two hours out of the way for lunch and being Nonami's nap spot during it. He was, poor man, having to drive 10 hours back home only to get up in the morning and head to work. What fun for him. You truly are a badass, Mr. MFBA.

Kid L and Offspring got on like a house on fire. I actually had to look to make sure that they were eating during lunch, because it seemed like they talked a mile a minute the whole time we were there. They exchanged emails, and will probably be burning up the airwaves as much as their mothers do.

Nonami and NSBH were adorable, and I earned cosmic black marks against my name by showing the two of them the candy store and pointing out the large lollipops they sold. Nonami ate his straight away, and managed to get green lollipop goo all over his forehead. NSBH showed great restraint by not eating hers right away, but bedeviled Mommy for it after lunch. Mommy wasn't so interested in letting her child eat a lollipop as big as said child's head, but I have the feeling NSBH will wear her down on the drive home. CCW spent far too much money on the sugar-crack that we call pralines, and I'm curious to see how many of those make it home. They don't last very long with me.

It was a great visit, if short. I feel that we could have talked all day, but time was of the essence. I hope that CCW and Mr. MFBA are able to make the visit they're planning in October. I also hope they enjoyed the visit as much as we did.

Flaming Red Skin and Burning Ears

2008-07-29T12:23:00.002-04:00

Offspring had a Girl Scout trip on Saturday to a small waterpark about an hour away from our town. Parents were allowed to attend, and moreover *needed* to attend to get all 22 girls there and back.

I went, and of course, got sunburned. Despite having put sunblock on THREE times in the five hours we were there, and wearing a t-shirt the whole time. The sunburn was bad enough, but it only lasted for about 36 hours before it no longer stung like a mother. I also seemed to have come home with an ear infection in my right ear.

It *hurts.* I took lots of over the counter medications for it yesterday, and that did help ease the pain off. I originally was thinking that I'd maybe gotten a scratch down in the ear canal or something, but it still hurts, even after applications of hydrogen peroxide AND alcohol.

I have a doctor's appointment for later this afternoon, and hopefully, they'll give me something that will allow me to sleep decently tonight.

Being A Productive Member of Society

2008-07-24T11:23:00.004-04:00

Offspring is in Art Camp during the day all this week, so I've actually had to curtail my nocturnal urges and go to bed at decent hours. She has to be at the camp location at nine every morning, so I'm trying to stay awake and be a real, live contributing member to society while she's gone.

I met a friend for lunch and shopping yesterday, and today, I plan on making a trip to Kinko's to photocopy some documents for my father. I also may make a stop to the local craft emporium for a design element that I need for an upcoming project.

Tomorrow, Offspring finishes camp and JF and I plan on attending the Parent Art Show in the afternoon to see what she learned this week. Saturday comes with plans to attend a little water park in a nearby town for a Girl Scout outing. I have cleaned a good bit of my house, and am no longer quite so embarrassed to open the door to deliverymen and passing Jehovah's Witnesses.

I'm spending time working on craft projects, and getting ready for the upcoming fun stuff that I have planned, including a bloggy meetup with CCW. I'm hoping that we don't scare her and her family off when they visit the area in a week or so. Here's hoping!

The Massive Cleanup

2008-07-20T20:08:00.003-04:00

I decided last week that Offspring's room was no longer livable. There was just too much crap stuffed in her small room. So, we set off last week to get all the crap down to a manageable level. Offspring and I ended up filling 27 bags with old Barbies, assorted odds and ends, and old Happy Meal Toys coated with layers of dust.

After most of the day, and quite a copious amount of hefting and carrying of overloaded trash bags to the curbside, her room looks mostly normal again. Well, as normal as a teenager's room can look.

Not Much Of Anything

2008-07-15T10:13:00.003-04:00

I wish I could tell you that my silence has been due to the fabulousness that is my life, but sadly, no. I've just been hanging out, doing as little as possible. I've been maintaining just enough energy to insure that lichen doesn't start growing on my backside, and for me, that's a pretty big accomplishment.

I'm biding time until Offspring starts camp next week, and then vacations and two possible quickie bloggy meetups afterward. Been busy in the craft room, and that's about the extent of my actual productivity.

Updated to add: Offspring's room has looked like a tornado threw up in it for about the last six months. Since I've never won any prizes for *my* housekeeping skillz, this wasn't concerning me all that much. But, today, I got a wild hair up my nether regions to get that festering pile down to a manageable size. One that a child could, you know, LIVE in! Twenty-seven trash bags and five hours later....her room actually has visible floor! Now, I'm taking some Advil, and going to sleep.

In Honor Of Our Nation's Birth

2008-07-05T19:55:00.001-04:00

Thanks to my lovely husband for the heads-up!

For CCW

2008-06-26T12:26:00.003-04:00

This is a t-shirt that we found in the window of a funky little shop in Myrtle Beach. I knew *immediately* that I had to take a picture. Of course, it's taken me forever to POST it, even though my long-suffering husband spotted the shirt, took the picture, and shrunk said picture down to a manageable size to fit on this blog.

more cat pictures

Don't you *love* I Can Has Cheezburger?

Please to enjoy!

A Complete Failure

2008-06-26T12:26:00.000-04:00

As a 1930s wife, I am
Very Poor (Failure)

Take the test!

As seen at Miche's place -- I can honestly say that I'm neither surprised nor upset to be a dismal failure at this particular test. I think I knew I'd blown it when I realized that I either a) wear a soiled apron while I cook my husband his dinner -- or, heaven forbid, *pyjamas*!, or b) I can't seem to even WEAR hosiery, much less keep the seam in them straight!

Oh, well. As they say, well-behaved women rarely make history.

Just For Fun

2008-06-25T02:13:00.003-04:00

I got an invitation, rather unexpectedly, the other day from an old Girl Scout friend. The invite was to a "all-day craft event" at her house for this coming Thursday evening. I haven't seen much of this friend this year because I bowed out of leading a troop, so my Girl Scout exposure has been minimal. While our relationship hasn't suffered, it is a change when you're used to being around someone all the time and then that time suddenly just drops off. I was looking forward to an afternoon of food, friends, fun, and fellowship.

My friend and I exchanged a few emails about the upcoming party, which I am excited to attend. The other inhabitants of my house are decidedly NOT as gung-ho about the crafty stuff, so it would be nice to be with other like-minded individuals for a while. Not that I don't love my family, but you all know what I mean, right?!

I finally got tired of trading emails back and forth when we live about ten minutes away from each other, so I picked up the phone. We talked back and forth about the new scrapbook store that opened up here in our town, and about the new stamping and crafting gadgets that are on the market. We speak for a bit about Offspring, who began her Scouting career in this lady's troop. Friend marvels at how far she's come from a shy five-year-old.

Imagine my surprise when later that night, as I'm cleaning up my bedside bookshelf (which was so crammed with books that it exploded when I barely touched it), I find Offspring's Daisy Girl Scout scrapbook. I forget that she was ever than small. Just for fun, I think I'll take it along with me on Thursday, to remind Friend why I'm glad that I know her.

A Bit Problematic

2008-06-17T16:26:00.003-04:00

Our school was on the last tax referendum to get a new wing. We've all been very excited at the prospect of moving out of our dinky trailers and into real! actual! classrooms! Even though our building won't be ready until the 2010 - 2011 school year, the land has to be cleared and readied for construction. Next year will be the "clearing and readying the land" year. The *following* year will be the construction year. (Though why it takes two full years to clear the land and construct a building, I'll never know. After all, it is the government. I suppose I should have expected that.) Which, as far as we're concerned, means that as many people as possible had to be housed inside the main school building for this coming school year. So, the great classroom shuffle has begun.

We're moving from our teeny little double-wide trailer (actually only ONE-HALF of a dinky little double-wide trailer) to this humongous (former second-grade) classroom. The only problem is that the powers that be scheduled the floors to be cleaned and waxed. That means that all the furniture has to be placed on the one small carpeted area. Normally, this wouldn't present a problem, but it means that the former teacher who occupied that room has yet to move all of her furniture out, because the room that she's moving to has yet to have the floors done. That in turn means that we can't move our stuff in because her stuff is still taking up most of the space. And the trash left on the floor! Oooh, we won't even go into that.

But, for now, it looks like I'm going to be next door to a teacher that I've grown fairly close to over this year. Hope things stay that way, and that there are no further upheavals in my schedule.

The Ever-Popular Bullets of Randomness

2008-06-14T21:03:00.003-04:00

Sorry for the long silence. It's been a busy and not-so-glorious last few weeks.

* Thanks to everyone who contacted me regarding my last post. I really appreciate all of your kind words and thoughts. To be honest, I wasn't seeking approval and compliments with that, it was just something that was really bothering me, and I felt like maybe I could write all the pain out of me if I tried hard enough. Didn't work, but I did feel better enough to finally go to sleep. It was a very disheartening evening for me, and those of you who mailed and called really helped me work through the funk.

* Both my show and school are over. (Thanks be to all benevolent forces out there.) Last show was June 8th, and last day of school was yesterday, June 13th. I just have to get all my crap moved to the new classroom and fill out some last minute paperwork, and I'm clear.

* Got Offspring off this weekend for a Girl Scout Field trip. It's weird not having her in the house. Sat on the couch, watching "Juno" with Juggling Freak, and then went and spent lots of money at the grocery store.

* I also signed up for Facebook, and have been busy playing all the neat little game widgets there.

* Made 14 stationery sets for people at school, and a scrapbook. Now, I need to make three or four greeting cards, and I think I'm good for a bit.

What's all up with you?

Hurt

2008-06-02T01:40:00.003-04:00

This evening, before the show, we had our vocal warm-up and our director addressed us as he does before every performance. He passed out discs with the promised pictures that had been taken by the photographer on our final dress rehearsal evening.

Most of the pictures were great. The colors were brilliant, and there were often moments of such clarity that they jumped right off the screen. I could hear the songs, bursting from the actors' mouths. I could see the quick dance steps, and feel the hot stage lights on my skin.

I, however, was in none of those shots. Almost every picture of me is terrible. Now, I am my own worst critic -- and I'll be the first to tell you that. I often don't like pictures of myself. I find it an exhausting and demoralizing experience, this taking of pictures. The light is harsh and unforgiving, the artificiality of all the props and backdrops make the whole thing seem pointless and juvenile.

But this -- this was something else entirely. I know I'm fat. I know it in the way that I know I'm female, or that I know I breathe air. I know it the way I know the curve of my daughter's cheek, or the feel of my husband's warm palm nestled within mine. But, there is a big difference in knowing it, and truly grasping it. I grasped it tonight. I was appalled at how bad I look. I am huge.

God, how it hurts to say that. To know that. To see, with my own eyes how much larger I am than everyone else out there. To see the rolls of fat even under my costume, even at a distance. To know that, while under those hot stage lights that are so unforgiving. My multitude of sins there on stage with the rest of us. Taking up so much room; the silent participant.

I lay in bed tonight, tears rolling down my face as I remember the pictures that I saw earlier. Is that how other people see me? Is that really the way I look to them? How I burn with shame to know why people look at me the way they do. To finally, irrevocably, get it. How shameful it is to feel so bad, to look so bad.

I had this mental image of me, and what I feel like inside my own mind does not match up with what I see on the screen. Have I been lying to myself all this time? Has it all been one long self-delusion of massive proportions? How could I let this happen? How can anyone love this?

This Really Burns My Biscuits

2008-05-30T17:16:00.002-04:00

I got sucked into Bravo's Top Chef last season, and have been watching this season from the very beginning. From episode one, I really liked Richard -- he seems very down-to-earth and genuinely nice (something a lot of the other competitors, past and present, have seriously lacked.) Plus, Richard lives in Atlanta these days, and I have to root for the guy who lives in my neck of the woods.

The last few episodes have been very frustrating to watch. There has been one competitor who has consistently been in the bottom rung on almost every elimination, and who has managed to squeak through. This is not all that unusual, as the judges tend to send home those who make really egregious errors, and pass over those who merely did not shine. It so happens that this year's "skate by on the skin of my teeth" contestant is Lisa.

What really grates on me about Lisa is that she is completely unable to accept criticism. In every episode, when she's brought before Judge's Table, her body posture is so defensive and rigid. She refuses to take anything the judges say to heart, which will ultimately lose her this competition. She also has the nasty habit of throwing the other contestants under the bus in order to save her own skin. In front of the judges a few episodes ago, she basically tattled that another contestant had not followed the letter of the challenge, despite the fact that she'd done the self-same thing the episode before that! This, to me, was inexcusable. I mean, I know it's a contest, but that's beyond the pale.

It seems, by reading the blogs associated with the show, that most other people feel the same way. Dale was another contestant who was eliminated in episode 11, and should not have been. Lisa should have been eliminated first, though I hold on deep love for Dale. Dale was abrasive and fairly open about the fact that he wanted to win, but he's a damn sight better chef than Lisa. Dale, at least, won some of the eliminations and quickfire challenges, AND got lots of compliments from the judges. Lisa hasn't been anyone's favorite that I can recall.

Not that this is that earth-shattering a topic, but it was on my mind.

The Verdict

2008-05-23T17:45:00.002-04:00

Opening night went pretty well, except for me flubbing an entrance. One of the other cast members, however, knocked over what is supposed to be a stationary urn. I figure my flubbed entrance did no damage to the actual set, so I should be grateful that I wasn't MORE embarrassed because it could have been a lot worse.

Did pretty good in the dance that I generally screw up, so it was a give-and-take sort of thing.

Glued my left eye shut with false eyelash glue and that burned like a son of a gun, and I had to redo the makeup on that side of my face.

Didn't fall over, didn't hurt myself, and didn't step on either of my dance partner's toes, so it wasn't too hideous.

Offspring and Juggling Freak came, which was nice. My mother and a couple visiting from England (friends of the family) may come sometime this weekend, so that will be nice.

Now, we're one down, twelve more performances to go. I'm tired, and probably will be for the next three weeks or so....

Wish Me Luck!

2008-05-21T22:37:00.003-04:00

Back from my self-imposed quietude to say:

My show opens tomorrow! Tonight's dress rehearsal was pretty good -- I had been messing this one dance up for freaking FOREVER, but I actually was pleased with my performance in it tonight.

We had a professional photographer there tonight, taking pictures, and at the end of the run, we are all presented with a disc of all the pictures. If there's a picture of me that doesn't look like a total doofus, and you all are interested, I'll post it. (Among all the other pictures that I've promised to post, and haven't yet gotten around to. So....look for it in about October, I guess, if I don't scrap the whole darn blog by then.)

So, wish me luck. In theater, we traditionally say "break a leg", but I did that last year, and I wasn't too thrilled with the result of that, so I'll just ask for good luck wishes, and all that bad theater karma be damned.