Fifteen Seconds

Freakin' Blogger has changed to some Google thingie and now YouTube won't post videos for me. Anyway, here's a link for you.

http://youtube.com/watch?v=pX5gRaxcviE

I usually can't SHUT UP for fifteen seconds and now suddenly I don't have a clue what I'd say! (except that it would probably be smilar to his idea.) The results should be interesting.

BLEAH!!!!!

Sudden headaches blow serious chunks! And sometimes they cause me to as well. I hope that doesn't happen because I ate a chili cheese dog for lunch. That would be most unpleasant. So is my head. Can someone please make my kids stop screaming? Thanks.

What I Learned This Christmas

I'm so excited because I discovered that if you have cake for breakfast, you don't need to put sugar in your coffee. It tastes the same. So now I know that sugarless coffee doesn't taste anywhere near as good, but it doesn't taste like gak either. I don't have to be desperate if I'm stranded on a desert island with no sugar for my coffee! That's so great. It's a holiday miracle.

Bloop

I do not know how I'm going to burn off all the festive foods, but I am NOT buying bigger clothes. Hell no. I was trying to get back to my smaller, nicer ones. I just might get myself a video game though, and make the rule that I can only play it standing up. It's an action game, so I might start jumping around like a maniac. X-Men. Yeah.

Quote of the Day

Brought to you by Ambien:

"The monkeys are circling my head. That means it's time to go to sleep."

Happy Solstice!

I hope every day brings a bit more sunshine into your lives. I also hope that whatever holiday you celebrate, it doesn't become the horrific sugarfest that ours did. Odin Claus was good to us. He brought me a tiny Wolverine that you put into a glass of water and it grows to six times its size. It came with tattoos and a little comic book. How does he always know?

Another thing about winter solstice is that it's the day the new "Harry Potter" titles are released. (The books get released at summer solstice) The final book is called "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows". That sounds like a condition. "Ugh. I ate McDonald's today and now I have the deathly hallows. Bleah."

Happy winter everyone! Go easy on the cookies. They're deadlier than the nog!

It Just Makes Me Twitchy

Attention all illustrators, animators, advertisers, etc.! Look up! That is a reindeer! It is also known as a caribou. You will find them around the arctic circle. You might know that as the North Pole area. Santa's town.
This is a white tailed deer. It does NOT live in Santa's town. It lives down here with us mortal people, hurling itself at cars. NOT A REINDEER! Now just stop it already, will you?

Holiday Carnage

Monday we are going to slay a tree. Now I don't mind adopting one that's already been murdered, but I feel bad about killing one ourselves. My husband is the executioner, but I have final word on which life gets snuffed out. I feel like Pilate, with my children as the angry mob, and all those trees thinking "not me, not me..." When we cut a fresh one though, it doesn't get crispy right away like the precut ones do, so we opt for that when we can.

My daughter doesn't like trees to be cut down and has asked for a plastic one. I weighed the idea of a plastic tree vs. an eternal black stain on my soul, so we're off to the tree farm! I'm sorry, but plastic- just does not compute. That's like eating Tofurkey on Thanksgiving. It's so wrong that I'm afraid it could tear a hole in the space/time continuum.

Today's "They Don't Write 'Em Like They Used To" Lyrics

Brought to you by the Rolling Stones-

"I tried rewiring her. I tried refiring her. I think her engine is permanently stalled."

Heh. And coincidentally, they also bring us the "What the hell is he saying?" lyrics of the day-

"She was a side of beef sold in a market down in New Orleans"

Woohoo! Nobody Knows It!

Okay, so what songs do you enthusiastically sing when nobody's around? Of course you do, you know you do. Don't lie, I'm psychic and have ears in the back of my head. I know because my kids told me. So gimme your list. I wanna see! Here's my current list, in no particular order:

I Go to Rio
L-O-V-E
Strangers in the Night
Can't Take My Eyes Off of You
And my very favorite (yes I do both parts)...

Don't Go Breaking My Heart.
I couldn't if I tried! Aw honey if I get restless- Baby you're not that kind...

I just can't stop myself!

It's Different for My Species

My 8yo is reading a book about a girl who becomes a knight. My 5yo looked at the picture on the cover and asked if the girl was a child or an adult. My older daughter replied that she was nineteen, but she wouldn't really be all grown up until she was twenty. (oooookay) My little one was confused.

"Mom's EIGHTY and SHE'S not all grown up!" Mmmm hmmmm...

Death by GUUUUUUUUUUUUHH

I just found out that Craig Ferguson owns an Indian. The bike he spilled on was a Harley, and from the description, I'd say that he wasn't riding like an ass, he was riding a model that is very difficult to handle and has that reputation. Don't know why they even make them, other than Wolvie digs them. With this information, he has knocked me dead, right into a puddle of my own drool.

**For legal reasons pertaining to head harem boys and any potential future employment by Worldwide Pants, I did not write this post. It was an impostor. It couldn't have been me, as I am dead. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.**

Post-Holiday Tragedy Narrowly Avoided

CONNECTICUT, USA- A man was almost brutally murdered this morning when his wife was foraging for breakfast in her morning haze and was unable to locate the last piece of pumpkin pie, leading her to believe that he had thrown it out. Just as she began turning into the Incredible Hulk, she found that he had simply shoved it behind a large bag of chicken cutlets and all was well.

When asked to comment, the man, who asked to remain anonymous, replied that he was completely unaware of the danger that had been looming over him at that time, though he has always suspected that such a thing was possible. "For safety's sake, I really should make it a point to put the sippy cup valves in with the holes down so that she doesn't have to dig out dishwasher crap before giving a drink to the baby." He then shuddered.

When his wife was asked to comment, she said "I think I need to relax more".

Shopping Safety Tips!

I was reading on a forum recently and a woman was saying how close she had been to marrying her boyfriend when she got a "sign from above" that saved her from a terrible mistake. She said she had thought he was wonderful, but the gift he gave her for Christmas showed "the real him". Yeah, I think it did, but I'm pretty sure that he was the one who dodged a bullet that day.

See, she expected fancy jewelery or something, but he gave her a roadside emergency kit. She thought that was thoughtless and cold. I see it completely differently. To me that says "I really love you and don't want to lose you, and if I can't be with you to protect you all the time, maybe this can help." Fancy jewelery says to me, "I got it 'cause I figured that's what chicks like." Now, if it were unusual jewelry that was obviously her style and not at all mainstream, I'd imagine some thought went into that and that would be nice. However, if my guy felt the need to get me something shiny and expensive, I'd hope he knew me well enough to realize that that's why She made Harley Davidson.

Guys, give what your heart says to, and if she doesn't like it, find a better woman. Really, women like the one who complained give the rest of us a bad reputation. Then the generalizations start. I hate those. I don't fit most of them and neither do the women I'm close friends with. I have noticed, though, that we have quite lovely men who adore us, while the foofy girls are either still looking or working their way through a chain of losers. Not that I've felt terribly festooned lately...

Hmmmph.

The past couple of weeks have been really awful. Life is kicking my butt and I've been exhausted. It seems to be winding down and looking up now and I've been able to breathe before the next wave hits. To cheer myself, and I think I've earned it, here's a look at my harem boys, past, present, and on the waiting list. No particular order. As usual, Wolvie understands just how I feel and has portrayed it beautifully. Anthony is trying his best to get in, waaving that doughnut at me. He's pretty slick.

Thank Your Lucky Stars

Literally. I'm pretty sure that if I didn't have that moon in Cancer, I'd have killed us all by now. It's not that I don't need the temperance with the sun in Leo and a Scorpio ascendant, but it makes for a strange combination sometimes. I'm the warm, nurturing maternal figure who likes to bake muffins and knit things for my loved ones. AND IF ANYONE TRIES TO TAKE THEIR MUFFINS, I WILL RIP THE BASTARD'S THROAT OUT WITH MY TEETH!!!!!! Yeah. Raven and her deadly spatula. I only just realized where that came from. Interesting. Makes me a little giggly, actually. I'm so silleh.

Frustrated and Annoyed Snarly Grumble

I'm starting to suspect that Stamps.fuck is closely related to AOHell.

What Hell is Like

This morning I was trying to eat my breakfast but there were five sparrows sitting outside my window, all in a line, looking at me forlornly as the stood next to their empty bird feeder. They just stared at me as I tried to not feel guilty about having warm toast indoors while they fluffed out their feathers for insulation. I felt like I shoud drown myself in my coffee. My only saving thought was that the feeder tray was in the dishwasher being sterilized because Mr. Squirrel had knocked it into a puddle of slime and algae. They now have two full feeders so that I can go guilt-free for the next couple of days. At least they don't cry like cats and dogs do.

Sayin' it Loud and Sayin' it Proud!

I like stinky cheese! And fruitcake! I am not ashamed!

What Famous Leader Am I?

Oh good golly Miss Molly.

What Famous Leader Are You?
personality tests by similarminds.com

Well, yeah, but let's just say I use my powers for good instead of evil. Why couldn't they say I'm like Captain America?

A Tribute to Donald Rumsfeld

We hardly knew ye.

Random Crap

I really like butter. It's one of the best foods ever.

My computer hates Comedy Central. Either that or Comedy Central hates my computer. When I go there, it closes my browser. This is strange and mysterious.

My friend, Elisa is evil. She knows it and is proud. Her latest evil deed is to inform me of a chocolate cafe near her, which is over an hour away from me, but I will go there and overindulge with her. But that's not the bad part. The bad part is that I will have to go there repeatedly. She is very evil.

I have a terrible craving for California rolls. Dangit. Fortunately, there is an Asian market near me. Alas, Peapod does not have nori. I'll have to mention it. My husband works in Midtown Manhattan. There is nothing he can't get. Yet my cravings frequently go unchecked. That's wronger than wrong. If I recall, it was part of our ceremonial vows. "I will swing by The Little Pie Company, Neuhaus, or any other purveyors that might provide for your gastronomic needs for as long as I shall work in Manhattan." "You may now french the daylights out of the bride."

Knitting Makes You Fat?

Somebody said that. They said it's because it's a sedentary activity. Now, I suppose that if you have stopped all your marathon running and lap swimming to sit and knit, that could be so, but for me, I no longer eat in front of the tv because I'm busy knitting, and I can get a bit obsessive when I'm working on something as well, so sometimes I don't even eat all my meals. When I'm sitting in all the doctor/therapist/kids' classes waiting rooms, I'm using my hands instead of staring at those mind-numbing magazines.

I've lost about ten pounds since I've really gotten into it. I love it when my doc asks me what my weight maintenance plan is. He should know not to ask by now, but maybe he does it for the entertainment factor. "Well, I went and had one more kid than I can really handle, so I just burn everything off with stress and constant struggle." "I've taken up knitting." He just loves me. I think I'm going to give up soda. That will blow his mind.

Yes, He Really Said This

2yo: I go to gym class with my daddy!

Grandma: Oh that sounds like fun. What do you and Daddy do in your gym class?

2yo: Play with our big balls!

But it's true

My 8yo just told me why books are better than cookies. Not only do they last longer, but they are reusable. To reuse a cookie, you have to barf first. That's just delightful.

Healthy Breakfast

Coconut is a fruit right? And almonds are good for you. So if I eat a couple of Almond Joys, it's like granola or something, right? Sure it's an okay breakfast. I'm going with that.

Feeling Kinda Blah Tonight

Feeling a little blue, quite tired, need to go to bed. I'm having a cup of coffee first (decaf) to warm me up and soothe me a bit. I could really use some cheesy goodness. By this, I don't mean zombie movies or Star Trek. I mean Cheetos or Doritos. I think my body is trying to counteract all the Halloween candy.

Naughty Little Donkey!

One of my harem boys has been an awful tease and needs to be spanked. Oh he knows who he is. Wait until he finds out that I'm going to have Wolvie administer it instead of me. Heh heh. That will teach him to behave.

All Done Until Next Year!

Well, we're back and the kids brought in quite a haul. It was enough for Mommy to take a hefty cut. Our neighborhood was much friendlier this year and there were actually no people who irritated me. Did you hear me? NO PEOPLE WHO IRRITATED ME! I'm savoring the moment. I feel so old and crabby. Perfect for answering the door on Halloween.

I normally gear up for Halloween and love it. I just have a hard time wrangling three little monkeys all by myself. I'm out of fire wood, which sucks, because I need to send tasty treats to the otherworld for my ancestors and loved ones who have died. I can't leave them outside because Mr. Squirrel will eat himself sick. I didn't even get pumpkins this year! I did try, but they kept being out of them and I wasn't paying thirty bucks apiece at the pumpkin farm. No way. But that's okay. Tomorrow is lunch at Paula's, and hopefully she'll have some firewood. I can tell the children the story of the wedding of Persephone and Hades. (though of course, I forgot to buy a pomegranate)

Now all I have to do is keep the kids from eating all the candy tonight.

Dangers of Late Night Television

You know when you stay up too late and your brain begins to go goofy on you? I thought that was happening to me last night. I was watching tv and suddenly remembered that I needed to dash off a note to someone. Since the tivo was getting it, I went to take care of it in the other room but I left the tv on. Then I heard strange sounds. It sounded completely unreal. I was almost afraid to look but I peeked around the doorway and there it was. Stephen Colbert was singing a duet with Barry Manilow. My brain said to me, and I quote, "yeahbuhwhaa?" I wish I had been given some warning. It's still on tivo and I'm going to actually watch it tonight. I'm sure that it will be great now that I know it's not some weird trippy situation.

Gearing Up for Tomorrow

I hate taking my kids trick-or-treating. I don't mind tagging along when my husband is in charge because I can just shut off my brain. Alas, he is working and is unavailable. My neighborhood sucks for it too. This is my son's first year though, and we'll see if the professional coaching provided by his two big sisters pays off for him. I'm sure that by tomorrow night, I'll have a rant. One that goes beyond freezing my buttocks off and having to carry home a kid who didn't want to stop because he wasn't tired, until he got far enough away to not be able to walk home. Yeah, looking forward to that. :P

It Makes Me a Tad Uncomfortable

I noticed that when the computer boots up, it has something called "asus probe". I would really like an option to click "no thank you". I would feel much better about it. I assume that it's either a security feature or some kind of porn thing. I never know what the harem boys are putting on the computer.

Not So Good for Our Image

If I witness one more homeschooler use the word "curriculums", my mind is going to snap. Bonus snappage if it's one who does classical homeschooling, whose kids have to study Latin. Restrain me.

We Can All Relax Now

Starbucks has announced plans to double their number of stores. I know you were all worried, as was I, that there were not enough Starbucks around. There are only two in my local mall, and only having them every couple of blocks in the city is just a sprinkling really. Thank goodness they are alleviating the problem, which has been in the forefront of all our worries as individuals and as a country. I do hope they're putting some in Africa because they do need help there. Who needs food and medicine when you can have a four-dollar cup of crap?

Pictures from the incredibly twisted but fabulous "The Prestige"

Don't you just love Bowie's wonky-colored eyes? I stared at them the whole time he was on. So freaky and cool.

Spooning My Eyes Out

So I didn't get to go to Boston last weekend. I was really down about it, but moved along. Today I find out that after his Boston gig, Craig Ferguson was DOWN HERE! Less than an hour away from me! He did a show right nearby where I could have just gotten a babysitter and gone! POOP! So now I'm bummed all over again.

But Hugh Jackman's new movie is awesome and he does have the obligatory shirtless scene as well. Go see it. Your brain will hurt but it will be happy. As long as you don't have a drowning phobia. I had a little problem with that, but I'll get over it eventually, assuming I don't have nightmares about the movie the rest of my life. Michael Caine rocked. David Bowie rocked. Christian Bale was fabulous. Go see it. "The Prestige". Good shit. Oscar worthy.

Juvenile Delinquents

Yesterday, we were at my daughter's weekly Spanish class at the library. It went unusually long this week, and they announced that it was close to closing time. My daughter said we had to hurry and I told her that maybe they'd close and turn off the lights and go home and lock the doors and we'd be stuck there all night alone! She only looked panicked for about half a second before the big grin happened and she said that would be cool. Yeah, it would. So we started coming up with ideas of what we'd do if that happened. The best ones are hers.

The first and obvious activity of the evening would be to run around the library yelling, and nobody could shush us. Then we'd each take a floor and flush the toilets at the same time. We could use the PA system to announce subway stops and call the manager to the meat department. Those were my lame ideas, but she laughed uproariously at them. She decided that we should nail or glue all the tables, chairs, bookcases, etc. upside-down to the ceiling. We should also make signs to put in various places, like on the door "automatic door- to operate, say 'please'". We'd put an "out of order" sign on the stairs, and a "horse parking" sign somewhere as well and of course "watch for low-flying airplanes". She wanted to paint a wall to look like a corridor with a pool at the end and put a sign saying "this way to pool". Of course, we'd have to come back the next day to see all the fun. Especially the people walking into the wall on the way to the pool and the traffic jam at the door with everyone yelling "please" at it.

She wanted to hide in the bathroom and see if we could actually get locked in for the night. She figured we'd just call my husband and let him know and it would be fine. Thankfully, I did not give in to the childish temptation that lurks within me, waiting to cause chaos at any moment. It's not that I haven't, but I temper it safely, like the rare pie and popcorn dinner. I fear that in the coming years, with my kids getting older, the temptation will be greater. We get it from my dad. He died at the age of 63 or 5, depending on who you ask. Now that he's dead, he'll probably be whispering in our brains and encouraging our behavior. At least when he was alive, I could hang up or put a hand over his mouth. I think we're just doomed now. Dang.

My Lot in Life

Yesterday I baked brownies. This afternoon there was about a quarter of a 9x13 pan left, which my 2yo managed to scarf down in record time when nobody was looking. My husband found this very amusing. Know why? Because I am not in Boston. I'm at home. This means that my husband is not at home. He is at work. Guess which one of us had to deal with the chocolate turbo puke in three different rooms? I'll give you a hint. It's the one who is NOT amused.

I Don't Get it.

My daughter was watching "Dora the Explorer." She kept exclaiming about the red chicken. "Why would a chicken be red like that? That's crazy!" But she doesn't question the purple squirrel with the serape who drives a car, the blue bull, etc. Maybe her planet is different.

Disappointment Sucks

I'm supposed to be on a train to Boston right now, headed to a lovely two days of standup comedy, food food food, and having immediate responsibility for nobody but myself. Unfortunately, due to unforeseen and some somewhat foreseen circumstances, I'm home. Craig won't be signing my book, I won't be eating lobster ravioli and I'm stuck dealing with strep times five. Well, I hope Craig has a nice trip and gets his ass back to the NE at a time when I can actually see the show. Poopy.

Travels With a Five-Year-Old

I took Stevie to Chinatown today. Her first train ride, her first subway ride. She had a ball from the minute we left the house. She had been insisting that we have dumplings. We must have dumplings. So we went down to Dim Sum Go Go for lunch, where she proceeded to unwrap the dumplings and eat only the stuffing. My dog used to do that. Stevie didn't lick the inside of the wrapper though. She's such a goof. We had some pork pies, which were in sweet pastry and were sugared inside as well. Very yummy and she ate it down to one end, declaring that it was very good and then suddenly she didn't like it. There was maybe one bite left. She said "I only like the front". There was no front! It was just a little fried pastry! She did the same with the sesame balls, which were yummy too.

Then we went to the Chinatown Ice Cream Factory where they make all kinds of exotic flavors as well as the standard ones. It is a tiny shop and it was jam-packed. They were very busy. They got to us and I asked her what kind of ice cream she wanted and she said "blue". Well, I pretty much choked then. I just didn't know what to do. I said "Blue???? Please tell me a normal kind" and the lady said "We have that." I said "What?" She said "Blue ice cream". Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit, I was stunned once more. So I ordered a scoop of blue on a cone. Stevie was halfway done before she knew what it was. Blueberry. I caught a drip with my spoon and tasted it. We stood out leaning on a barber pole while we ate and people-watched. It was nice.

We bought fans for her and the other two monkeys and then headed back up to midtown to the big Toys R Us. So we go in, and about twenty feet from the door we nearly walked right into this family who was posing for a picture for some reason. It was not a photo op spot like in front of the ferris wheel or in front of the dragon or whatever. It was in front of the door. WTH? So an employee was taking their picture and I heard him say "Say cheese" and something evil whispered in my ear because I became "that guy". Yes, that's right. There's a nice Hasidic family who has a lovely memory of their visit with my big, stupid, grinning face right between mom and dad. They didn't even know I was there. Heh.

You know, I have walked 42nd street countless times in my life and never knew that in front of the Conde Nast building there's a fairy sidewalk. I always thought it was just a stretch of pavement with lots of mica in it, but I guess it's never too late to get an education. I'm glad Stevie told me. I've been ignorant all my life. I feel so foolish.

EDIT: Jenda just told me that those photos cost $25 because they are displayed on their giant screen in Times Square. I am not only a jerk, but I'm a famous jerk! Yay for me!

I'm Terribly Juvenile

My daugher and I went to the Late Late Show's website and there was a thing there to email the show. Weeellllll, let's just say that we considered it a challenge. So we put our return email address in as dork@kickme.net (her brilliant suggestion) and wrote the following:

Dear Craig,
Is your refrigerator running?

xoxo

Al Kaholic


My daughter was giggling and said "Oh my god, we are such jerks." I love her.

Enjoy your coffee quickly and then get the hell out!

It really irritates me when people say "expresso" when they mean "espresso". It's like "nucular". It makes me want to slap them.

Oh, and I don't want a customer service representative to be with me momentarily. I want him or her to be with me for as long as I require! Twits. TWITS!

I'm betting that a lot of these people are the same ones who complain that a person fresh off the boat can't speak English. So what's their excuse then? I think they need to be poked with a sharp stick. By me. During PMS. Yeah.

Just Because

Cue Evil Laughter

For the past couple of days, I've been telling my kids that we'll make cookies. Each day, something has ocurred to prevent that. Today I finally had the mixer going and it was time to add the vanilla, but I couldn't find it. I couldn't find it anywhere. I began to panic (come on, you know I'm not the only one who panics when the vanilla has gone MIA) and as I usually do when I panic, I decided to call my husband and ask him if he'd seen it.

He said that he hadn't seen it since a couple of weeks ago and that it had been on top of the pantry cabinet. Now, I'm no fool. I've been with him for twenty years and I know I've learned a thing or two in that time. There's no way his man-eyes would have noticed a bottle of vanilla extract unless he was using it. I remembered he made vanilla oatmeal for the kids. My conclusion is that he used it up and didn't tell me. This is bad. Very bad.

His closing remark was "It's somewhere. Good luck. Bye."

Oh no sir. Good luck to YOU.

Is it Really That Bad???

I went to the website that I ordered the socks from, and under shipping information it says that they package very discreetly, in plain wrapping, with only "sock dreams" as the return. First of all, "Sock Dreams" is the name of the company, so what else would they put? And doesn't that say what's in the package? And should I be ashamed of buying socks? Is my mailman shocked and disgusted because I wear socks? WTF?

Actual Conversation

HUSBAND: This apple juice is nasty!

ME: It's grape juice.

HUSBAND: It's not bad!

Fug Relief

I went to the mall today. I don't go often so I hadn't seen the stuff for this season until now. This is a great shoe season, and boy do I love shoes. I've spent the past few years full of shoe crankiness due to all the fug that was being sold. It was frustrating to know that even if I had the money, which sometimes I did, I was unable to buy shoes because there weren't any decent ones to buy. Now, of course, I don't have the money, though I do need new shoes.

Recently, Craig said that you can control women with shoes. It's frighteningly close to being true. And "how many pairs of black velvet shoes do you need?" is an incredibly stupid question so don't ever ask it. If you have to ask, there's no way you'll understand the answer.

I dress backwards. I find a great pair of shoes and then think, "what clothes will I need to go with these?" Clothes are just there to enhance my shoes. (and of course, for legal reasons)

My husband claims not to understand my shoe obsession. I explain to him the differences between the uses for each pair to no avail, and yet I am constantly tripping on his three pairs of sneakers, four pairs of moccasins, four pairs of utility boots, etc. and he claims to need them all for different reasons, though he really only wears one or two and refuses to throw out the shoes that don't fit him. I wish there were some way to parlay this into some kind of fashion/grooming sense, but I haven't found it yet. He likes to get his hair cut by "the Russian guy in the subway." For that alone, I deserve new shoes.

Socks!

It's the time of year when I start thinking about keeping warm. Rebekah is a sock enabler. She gave me the link and I went shopping. No more chilly knees this year! Then again, I might start wearing more skirts. I bought these. The ones with the laces in back are velvet. The harem boys approve.

I Can't Believe I Did This

I pulled something in my right buttcheek. How stupid an injury is that? Now I'm limping like an idot because my ass hurts. I don't think I'll be around anyone who will ask. At least not in the next day or two. Hopefully I'll be fine by Sunday because the people at church are nosey, but in a nice way. Let's call it "concerned". Maybe "overly concerned". Maybe I'll just add it to the announcements.

UGH!

This is the day from hell. I'm not even getting into it. The kids have just gone to sleep. I'm going to just watch tv and knit and make jello for my daughter who is on clear liquids all day tomorrow, poor kid. Suckage is the word for today. Life is just kicking my ass.

This is why I don't let Wolvie babysit.

I Love This Time of Year

So the Jankees have made the AL East title again, which the Sux were also going for. I hope they make it to the series, but I'm going to Boston in October. I will have to hide any trace of NY from my accent. I'm going to have to go undercover. Kristin says I should call things "wicked spooney" and I'm in.

Tino finds this all very amusing. Now that he's retired, he has discovered existentialism and it's all dust in the wind to him as he looks up through the apple tree in the yard, making shapes from the clouds. My other harem boys say it's just doobage. Tattletales. I don't know why they can't get along better. All I know is that the first one to make me some smoked brisket gets a b- *cough cough* pardon me- a reward.

Something that's bothered me for years

Focault pendulums. Yes, I really do think about these things. I mean, I understand the concept of how they are supposed to work, I just don't understand why they DO. Wouldn't they only work at the poles? What keeps them swinging? I suppose I could google it, huh? Maybe when I'm in Boston I'll go to the museum of science, (thought the idea of going on a Saturday isn't pleasant) and pester a nice staff member who will think I'm completely retarded or something.

Very Cool Dance Video

No, I'm not in this, but is that my Hugh in the blue jacket with the drum? I must go practice now.

TV

I just saw a clip of Tucker Carlson on "Dancing with the Stars" and I need to wash my eyes out with vodka or something! I might end up suffering post traumatic stress!

And Craig honey, the word is "CRAPTASTIC!" How could you not know that? Jeez Louise!

I'm a Great Mommy!

I'm letting the kids have chocolate butterscotch pie for dinner.

I'm a Bad Mommy

I'm letting the kids have chocolate butterscotch pie for dinner.

We're So Talented

My 4yo is quite fond of the Ferguson singing like a lunatic recording, and has started singing along and trying to teach my 2yo to do the same. Meahwhile, I keep doing the EVH part of "Pretty Woman", because it's stuck in my head.

"ning ning ning ning ning WAAAAAAAAO
ning ning ning ning ning WAAAAAAAAO
BEH NEH NEH NEH NEH NEH NEH NEH..."

If I were serenading Hugh Jackman's butt in an elevator, do you think I could make it all the way to the "mercy!" part before he fell on the floor laughing?

Bob Dylan Launches Second Career!

Bob "Smoove Move" Dylan, pimping for social change.

Because Harem Boys Get Jealous

Another Song Stuck in My Brain

Craig is silly. Very silly. He does stupid singing like I do, and yes, this song is actually in my stupid singing repertoire. It's just made for it. I only do this stuff in front of the kids or in the kitchen. The world will never know. I don't know the person who made the video to go along with the song, but I don't know how to post sound files here so you got this. Thankfully, my friend Steve knocked this out of my head with his awesome version of "Pretty Woman". Steve is a guitar god. Which has nothing to do with Craig, but there ya go.

No More Pluto????

I'm all for scientific progress, but this really throws me. I guess I'll have to teach my kids "My very energetic mother just served us nachos." So much for "nine pancakes". How sad. I like pancakes better than nachos. I wonder what this means for the solar system and astronomy in general? New classifications all around? Will we get any new planets? Aw man, now I'm going to have to actually look stuff up and read articles and stuff. I'm tired!

I'm cheeky. I'm wee. I was born in the year of the monkey. Coincidence? I think not.

Doon't worry it's not you.

Nobody ever knows what the hell she's babbling on aboot.

Priorities

"RUN LOGAN!"
"Hang on, I'm sendin' Rima a dirty text message."

I need to put a sign on my house that says "Warning: May contain nuts".

On an unrelated note, though I know your opinion may vary on that, I'm pleased that Craig Ferguson has finally solved my mystery of several "what the hell was I thinking?" clothing purchases. It's that atomic oatmeal thing. Of course, I realize that he was just writing fiction, but it does make sense to me. It's perfect Rima logic. It's exactly how I think. You have no idea what I'm talking about. I'm having a rough day.

JES!

GO JANKEES!

Why do they always wait until later in the season to not suck? You'd think they'd get it by now.

Weird Science

I've got a refrigerator experiment going. (By this I'm referring to a specific one that I'm doing on purpose, not the mysterious tupperwares in the back that I'm not going anywhere near and prefer to leave for archaeologists to deal with.)

Anyway, I bought some stew meat. I defrosted it but never got to use it. It turned brown like spoiled meat does, and I forgot about it for a couple of days and it was still all brown and nasty and ready to be tossed. When I went to toss it a couple of days later, it was red again. Not kidding. And almost two weeks later, it's still looking fresh as a daisy. So I'm leaving it there to see how long this will go on and what, if anything will happen next.

It's not supposed to do this is it? What did they do to this meat to make it do such a thing? This is scary. I'm buying organic from now on. It's like it's undead. I wonder if it's feeding upon the other stuff in the fridge to keep its youth. Maybe I should skewer each chunk with a wooden toothpick and put garlic all over it. If anything weird happens, I'll let you know.

Another Song Stuck in My Head

Sent from the future
Just to be a bastard
Mick Jagger!
Time traveling jerk!

Goddamit.

Shaking My Fist at Kristin!

I've had a song stuck in my head for days now and she knows which one. It's the one that was stuck in HER head for days and when she was in the elevator with Hugh, she sang it to his butt (and yes, I follow this logic completely) and he hummed along. Now it's stuck in my head, and very likely his too, which is probably a welcome change from his work songs, but I'm starting to be done with it now, thank you. Mommy, make it stop!

Another Good Name for a Band

Atomic Oatmeal.

Molecular Porridge sounds too fussy.

Weird Dream

I dreamed that my friend and I were at our local yarn shop and I was showing her some yummy Suri alpaca that I recently used and she decided to look around a bit. She tried to buy the shop owners' lunch until I explained that it was her lunch. Then she said "Oh we need new utensils" and tried to buy all the spoons in the cafe area. I managed to steer her back to the yarn.

Then when we were driving home, there was a story on the radio about how hard it is to get dogs to walk properly on a leash because they always insist on pulling to the left and we said yeah we always wondered about that. Later when I settling down to knit and watch TV, Craig Ferguson mentioned it in his monologue because it was the weirdest thing he had ever heard of and said that they did a secret video study and CBS had obtained footage, which he showed. And there on the hidden camera video were my dog and my friend's dog, roaming about, turning left into various places to get cheeseburgers and slurpees, and finally making a left turn right into the yarn shop to do some shopping! Craig made that "WTF?" face that he does. He's adorkable.

Strange Things Are Afoot at the Circle K...

The plumber pulled twenty bucks out of our toilet (but it still cost us 236) and my kids have been going around saying "Apply directly to your forehead!" The two are not related.

The Full Moon

Never a good day for me. It's the day I feel like strangling everyone, and unfortunately, people tend to give me reason to do so on this particular day. Oh, and the man left for LA again yesterday and took his toilet mojo with him. So now I get to plunge like the wind. I really do need to remember not to answer the phone or reply to my email on this day. (It's not that I don't enjoy ripping a deserving candidate a new asshole, but it stresses me out.) Tonight, I'm going to sit in my chair with a lot of chocolate and watch Craig. I shouldn't knit. I won't sleep either, which sucks because we have a morning appointment tomorrow that involves a bit of driving. It also requires my attention. I'm feeling rather tense.

Grow a Pair

Today I saw a guy with a sticker on his car that said "Save our children! Defend marriage today!"

Ahem. If he (or anyone else with that sticker) really gave a crap about children, he'd put his energy and money towards an actual helpful cause. What the bumper sticker should really say is this: "I hate fags but I'm too chicken shit to come right out and say so, so I made something up!" Yup, that's about right.
I wonder what Wolvie thinks of people like that.
Oh. Right. I knew that.

Yes, I DO have a tartan!

The Jacobite tartan is the tartan of Galicia, Asturias and Catalunya and is believed to have originated in Barcelona. I have much ancestry from Galicia, which is where my family name is from. They are one of the seven Celtic nations and the one believed to be where the Irish came from. Actually, one of my Galician ancestors was an Irish immigrant. I don't know why I never thought to look it up before. My dad told me we had a tartan but I thought he was making it up. It's not as loud as my husband's, but not as pretty either. Ah well. Mine's nice for autumn, his is nice for winter. I'm so superficial.

Reality

So I was listening to NPR and they were talking about a recent discovery of a book that Archimedes had written and it had been erased and written over by a monk as a book of Christian prayers. So this rich guy bought it and wanted to have the text revealed but it was too old for the usual UV method so the people he had hired to do it decided they needed a particle accelerator. This was Uwe Bergmann's lucky day.

Poor Uwe Bergmann probably spent his entire youth busting his butt to be a scientist. He probably had dreams of new discoveries that would revolutionize the world and take his mind to new levels. In his dreams of tomorrow, he never thought about who would actually pay him to do this stuff. The hard reality was that a scientist studies whatever the person who is forking out the money wants him to. So he and his incredibly advanced skills of detection and discovery, together with a particle accelerator were hired to study spinach. Yup, spinach. There are people using particle accelerators to try to achieve teleportation and they're actually getting somewhere, but his benefactors were interested in the iron content of spinach. I don't know why, maybe they wanted to know if they could make a spinach robot that would be strong like Popeye and take over the world or something, but that's not important.

So this guy is probably bored out of his skull, using his bazillion dollar equipment and skills to study spinach for some eccentric wealthy person when he read about the Archimedes discovery and they were talking about trying to pick out forgeries and that somehow iron in the ink was significant. Man, the heavens must have opened and shone down into that guy's lab that day. He called up these folks and said that he was studying iron with a particle accelerator and could he pretty please leave his crappy job for their cool one. Lucky him, he got the job.

Can you imagine? All that potential and they're bound by whatever retard has the money to fund a study of dust bunnies or whatever that particular rich wackadoo is obsessed with. Oh man, what a life. THAT'S why there are mad scientists. Aren't there?

Pork. That starts with "P" which rhymes with "T" and that stands for trouble!

Last night my husband grilled the pork loin of the gods. It was so good. When he sliced it up, I said "ooooh, is that a smoke ring?" and Bobby, who was feeling a bit territorial yelled "HEY! Is that a fuckin' smoke ring?! Who authorized this?!" and then he wanted to fight. Hugh, ever the peaceful and happy guy, tried to calm him down while the rest just kinda stood back hoping for the brawl to begin. I later explained to Bobby that as head harem boy, Brian can do whatever he likes, as long as he gets my approval for safety reasons. He was not pleased with this, although he knows the rules. I haven't really met many people who don't get along with Brian. This doesn't bode well for Mr. Flay. The other harem boys are thrilled. They are so very mercenary.

Frightening

I was in the car today, listening to the radio and they were playing some really cool stuff like Aerosmith and Credence and then I drove through one of the funky zones in my area where they apparently have underground nuclear facilities in which they hide UFO's and do brain wave experiments, and the signals started crossing with another station that had on Rush Limbaugh! So I'd be happy and then Rush Limbaugh! EEEWWW! Of course, I finally changed it, but that was just horrible and confusing. My brain cannot register Aerosmith and Rush Limbaugh together. I'm lucky it didn't shut down! That could happen you know! The shock and all!

Obsessive? Me? Nooooooo

I was brushing my teeth this morning when a tune popped into my head that I'm not sure is even real and I had no idea why. It was one of those can't get it out things. It just suddenly showed up and wouldn't stop. Then I suddenly realized I had been brushing my teeth in a jig bowing pattern. So I stopped and it went away. I do remember once doing scales in my sleep with my left hand and waking up giggling about it. I wonder if I knit in my sleep.

Rosin on My Contact Lens

Everthang looks fresh as a Carolahna pahn forst!

Welcome Back My Cheeky Wee Monkeys!

Where's the Crack?

That's the title of an Irish Fiddle book. I have no idea what it's supposed to mean, but it's a perfect example of immigrants not knowing the language. The proper way to say it is "Where da crack at?" I think dealers should follow the example of Pat's Steaks and not sell it unless they can ask for it properly. Then they can explain why it is the title of a collection of Irish fiddle tunes. I really need to know.

Die Berroco, DIE!!!!!!!!!!!

The pattern is labeled "very easy" yet it wants me to take 146 stitches, and decrease by 54, evenly spaced across the row. Hello, I'd have to decrease every two and a half stitches! You can't do that! So now I have to take the whole thing to the yarn shop and hope that some of the more knowlegable people there can figure it out for me, otherwise I'll have thirty dollars worth of purpley-blue yarn barf and a very disappointed little girl. And a conniption. I wanted to finish it this week. AAAAAGHH!!!

My Mantra for This Morning...

"Frogging builds character"

Lesson learned: Do not knit late at night while watching a man who shakes your maracas. I was so close to the last buttonhole row. Ah well. Frogging builds character. Frogging builds character. Frogging builds character...

Who da Man????

Ben and Jerry da man!

HELL'S YEAH!

Not to Be Outdone...

Men are so competitive, aren't they? Especially when it comes to entertaining me during times of crap. I don't know how my husband is going to top these attempts. I'm looking forward to finding out. In any case, Craig and Hugh are both nominated for an Emmy award in the host category. What's a harem mistress to do? I wish I could remember what Sir and M'am did when Marsha and Greg ran against each other. Didn't they both lose? Tragic. Craig has worked his way up the harem ranks very quickly. He attributes it to several days on cold medication, but I think he needs to give himself more credit. I think he's been sneaking off with some of my jokes and using them on his show, actually. Hmm. See, this is why I need a nanny. My kids would never do such a thing. Not without paying me, anyway.

Hanging in

Life sucks right now. When you go to the doc and the nurse looks alarmed and the doc keeps exclaiming and saying how bad he feels for you, you know you're miserable. My daughter isn't any better. She's dehydrated and might have to have IV fluids. The pain in her abdomen is not better. Even though that's typical of Coxsackie, they ruled out appendicitis as well. I managed to get a popsicle and a half into her so she hasn't throw up her medicine. I hope it actually gets absorbed instead of sitting there until it comes back up hours from now. I left a desperate message on my husband's voice mail, but all that will do is make him upset. It won't help anybody. I guess I shouldn't have done that. I have desperate moments.

At least I'm breathing a bit easier than I was yesterday. I have bronchitis on the verge of pneumonia. I'm taking a really good antiboitic that gets right in the first day and I'm also taking methylprednisolone, which is a steroid that you take a massive dose of and then taper it off for the rest of the week. The pills taste like death. I have to dip them in honey not to throw up. My daughter took prednisolone a couple of times when she had severe asthma attacks and pneumonia. Let's just say that when you have the sweetest little girl in the world and she suddenly turns into the Hulk, well, not a good side-effect. I already have a quick and hot temper and am under stress like you wouldn't believe, overworked, short-handed, feeling overwhelmed and not very friendly. The very last thing I need at this time is roid rage. Thank goodness for the two Ben & Jerry pints that Peapod brought yesterday. Assuming I can stomach ice cream, it could save all of us.

I wish I had a movie to watch. I have "The Big Tease" and "King Kong vs. Godzilla" next up from Netflix, but they probably will get here Saturday at the earliest. I do have some interesting Hugh stuff to watch. Maybe I'll do that. It's just I need something the kids will be interested in too, or they'll be a PITA. Ah well. It's going to be a long day. Boring, but not because I won't be busy. Just because it's no fun. If all goes well, I can be bored and overworked at home instead of in the ER. Keep your toes crossed.

Coxsackie

It's a virus. I. Feel. Like. Shit. Only one of my kids has been spared so far. The rest of us are lying around trying not to hurt or puke or whatever, and she's bouncing around "Can we go for a walk? Let's go to the firehouse! Let's get some hotdogs! Can we get our hair cut today? Can we go to the craft store? Let's bake a pie!" Etc. Ugh. I have to figure out how to feed us. Yesterday was pizza. Garbage goes out tonight. I have several phone calls to make but I can't really talk. That should be fun. So. Here I sit. Waiting to be better. Keeping close mental track of everybody's symptoms. I want the happy fairy to just show up at my door with dinner and some anti-viral fairy sparkle dust, and a nanny wouldn't be bad either. Rosie the robot housekeeper would be awesome. Meanwhile, one of my harem boys is doing his best to keep me entertained. What a darling. He cracks me the hell up. And no, I have no idea why this is underlined. It's not even an option. It just feels like it.

Mr. Mojo

That's my husband. I felt it the very moment I met him. Unfortunately, when he leaves, he takes it with him. He's been in LA for about two weeks. When he goes, things break and the kids get sick or injured. Alex had her arm splinted on Wednesday. I have just bought a new vacuum cleaner, new shower curtain rod, mop, and lawnmower. (I will not get into the whole sordid tale of the lawnmower and the Home Depot shuffle, leading me to finally just order it from Amazon and hire someone to mow this week.)

So today he calls me and tells me in a very ominous tone, "we need to talk about something". All within a split second, I think we're getting a divorce, he has cancer, we're declaring bankruptcy, the IRS is sending us to prison. No, it's just that they need him for another week in LA. Okay, so whatever. So I thought that maybe the light bulbs would go out or something. Nope. Instead, I have developed a nasty sore throat. Crap. Well, at least the car is okeedokee so far. Let's hope it stays that way. And the plumbing. And the stove. And the washer and dryer. And the rest of the kids' bodies.

Tomorrow sounds like a good day to do a full moon blessing. Assuming I'm not delieriously febrile and vomiting.

Ranting

Here is a perfect example of how backwards-ass our society is and why raising a child properly is an uphill battle. This is the first paragraph of an AP article entitled "Breast Milk May Help Smallest Preemies".

CHICAGO - The tiniest premature infants fed with breast milk in the hospital did better on tests of mental development later in life than did others fed only formula, a new study has found.

WRONG!!!!!!!!!!!

What it SHOULD say is "The tiniest premature infants fed on formula in the hospital did worse on tests of mental development later in life than did others fed normally, a new study has found."

The title should be "Formula May Harm Smallest Preemies"

Pardon me, but drinking mother's milk is the normal way for ANY baby mammal to eat. Formula is not the normal way to do it. Yes, it's a choice, but let's not let advertising dollars in the media AND in medicine fool us into not knowing that it's an inferior and unnatural choice. If someone wants to make that choice, that's fine with me. But then don't treat me like I'm a freak for doing it the way my babies and I were made to do it.

My kids are not developing beyond what they normally would have because of it. My milk doesn't raise their IQ's higher and make them healthier than formula fed babies. Formula fed babies have lower IQ's and more health problems. My kids are developing the way they normally would. I didn't give them something extra, I just didn't deprive them.

We have lost perspective. Whatever TV says, we believe. It's why our food, water, and air can be LOADED with crap and we don't do anything about it. It's why the wealthiest, most highly developed country in the world has such poorly educated children (and therefore adults) as well as the highest infant mortality rate of any developed nation. It's why two parties run the country and we are helplessly at the mercy of fossil fuels. Not enough people are willing to say "hey, this is wrong." or "Sorry, you suck, you can't have my money".

People. Are. Stupid. Because they want to be. It's easier not to think. It's easier not to do. Believe me, I know. I swim upstream with my children on my back. I hope I'm parting the waters a little for them.

It's Natural and Cool and Individual...

Soho Sodaaaaaaa! Natural sodaaaaaaa! Anyone remember that? I loved it, but then it disappeared. I wonder what happened? I'll have to google it. And on an unrelated note, I just realized that I've been with my husband for most of my life and that makes me happy.

I just unsuspectingly took a giant swig of hot cocoa made with spoiled milk. I don't think I will recover from this anytime soon. At least I'm going to the stupidmarket today. And I have to say, little kids with adult faces freak the hell out of me. Especially toddlers.

Do they make really long straws?

Monday is my father's memorial and we'll be having a party in his honor but I have no champagne flutes. Why? The same reason I have lived here for almost ten years with no curtains. Because there are none that I like. Yeah, I have a couple of cheap, ugly ones that my husband and I use for ourselves, but not enough for guests, so we needed to buy some.

Originally, I told my husband to just pick up some plain, cheap flutes. He said he didn't know when he'd get to do that so I told him not to worry, that I'd run out today and get some. I don't know why I thought I could do that. If he had just gotten some plain, cheap flutes, I would have been fine with that. However, I can't do that myself. I just can't. I have to look at every glass at every store nearby in every price range and reject it. If I actually have to look for them, take them off the shelf, pay for them, and bring them home, they must shake my maracas and that didn't happen. If I didn't have the children, who were being very patient despite being tired and hungry, I could have headed to Williams Sonoma, which had some very nice ones in their catalog. I would have had a stroke if the store didn't have them, but that's to be expected. Meanwhile, no glasses, and can I just say that taking three young kids through the breakables section of several stores in a row is enough to give me a nervous breakdown.

I hate when something turns out to be a mission for me because it's always a failure. My secondary mission was to find something nice to wear. I left the house with realistic expectations for that one. I didn't even conduct a proper search, just quick scans as I went by the racks. After a lifetime of that aggravation, it wasn't worth it. So my next mission failure will be cleaning the house. I'm going to clean the toilet and maybe the kitchen floor. I will not give myself a migraine over it. I still don't know how we'll be drinking the champagne though.

If I had a brain, I would have ordered the glasses online a long time ago. Duh.

Not Quite a Movie Review

To try reviewing "X3" would be an exercise in futility, but I'll make some comments. Beast made me happy. How could Beast not make me happy? He always makes me happy. Hearing Juggernaut utter the lines "Do you know who I am? I'm the Juggernaut, bitch!" was alone worth the $9.50. I'm glad I wasn't drinking at the time. It could have been better only if he had then threatened to pimp slap Kitty's ass. Kitty. I love Kitty. Yay Kitty. Fastball Special- 'nuff said. Mentally undoing a hot guy's belt buckle- a nice skill to have. I'm going to practice concentrating and see if it works for me.

I'm trying to refrain from anything negative because even though they fucked up the entire X-Men thing (ooh, I think that may have been negative), it still was a fun movie with a good story. My real feelings came out subconciously though. This morning when I awoke, I had been dreaming that I desperately had to pee and everytime I found a bathroom, Brett Ratner had stuffed up the toilet. I think that's as close to a review as I can get.

On a related note, Hugh Jackman was being interviewed by Matt Lauer on "Today". When the segment was over and they were going to a commercial, Matt read the upcoming stories, one of which was "Can corn really solve our gas problem?" and immediately Hugh cracked up and Matt turned and said "not THAT kind of gas problem!" I just love Hugh.

Kids' Conversation

8yo: Why do you smell like citrus?

4yo: What's citrus?

8yo: Oranges, lemons, limes, tangerines, grapefruits, and clementines.

4yo: You smell like poop.

The Math Mystery

I have mentioned that I'm completely math deficient. However, I'm coming to realize what I have long suspected- that it's only in a practical sense. When I was a kid, I couldn't get math concepts for squat. In my senior year of high school, I was still taking (and failing!) math funformentals. I remember my music teacher trying to get me to understand the circle of fifths and my eyes just kinda googling around. However, I was musically inclined. Clue. And I liked the most intricate jigsaw puzzles and needlework designs. Clue. Later, I became passionate about intricate quiltmaking. Clue. Now I feel the same about knitting. Clue.

When people criticized me (which believe me, they did) because of my decision to homeschool my kids, I figured that it didn't matter because we'd learn together. Well, I was right. I'm finding that schools just have a backwardsass way of teaching math! They show you symbols on paper and how to manipulate them and then show you how to apply them to real life. However, from a young age, I work with my kids with practical applied math, not calling it anything but cooking, or knitting, or whatever it happens to be. We explore the MEANING of each number, not the numerical value. Then I show them how to represent the numbers. With my eldest, most of it seems to be taking care of itself. She'll say "Oh, this is like when..." and she'll write it out and then use other examples and get excited that she can make her own. Then she naturally makes a connection to the next logical process or concept, without me having to introduce it and then we explore it together. I find she has absolutely no trouble doing problems on paper this way.

Like I thought it would, it's affecting me too. I'm thinking differently. I'm seeing the concepts. I'm actually starting to like it. I never thought that would happen. I'm practicing my violin again, which will stimulate that part of my brain as well. My ADHD meds are helping too. Now if I can figure this stuff out, why can't so called "professionals?" Why would educators and adolescent psychologists simply use terms like "lazy" or "stupid" instead of giving a kid what she needs? Clearly, it's not difficult.

I recently read an internet post in which a woman with red hair wanted to knit a scarf using the red hair gene as a pattern. I thought that was incredibly cool! I looked a bit further for such ideas and saw that someone made a pair of striped socks using the Fibonacci sequence. That was even cooler! Now I'm very intrigued. My project list includes a large tote bag for my knitting supplies. I think I will do it in Fibonacci stripes. Who knows where it will go from there?

I'm figuring that by the time I'm finished homeschooling my youngest, I will have gotten a far more thorough education than I could have ever gotten in school. My fantasy is to have enough money to go back to college when Angus starts, and put my new education to good use.

It's Good to Have a Harem

When one of my harem boys was behaving in a less than favorable way, the others provided backup to keep me happy. Hugh went on Leno and made me laugh, and he looked gorgeous. During that show, I also got to see Wolvie light a cigar off a burning car and then show me a fastball special. Following that, Craig was quite naughty and amusing, though he still needs a little discipline when it comes to his comments about Broadway musicals. I think he might be a little bit jealous. Anyway, the previously mentioned harem boy fell back into favor (for the most part) when I noticed that for the first time since we have lived in this house, he cared enough to NOT mow my flowers down with the first mowing of the season. A gesture that I most appreciate.

I Just Bought This Last Night on Ebay

It's 100% Merino, hand spun and hand dyed by some guy and his family in Uruguay. It means that I won't be able to buy decent pants for a week, but it's worth it. I'm so happy. I can't wait for it to get here, though it will be two or three weeks. That gives me time to finish the two guitar straps I'm working on now. Yay for me.

Things That Shouldn't Happen During PMS

The grocery delivery shouldn't bring tilapia instead of salmon. Do not get involved in a discussion in which someone needs to be set straight. Do not look at recipes for tasty baked goods. Do not read a book in which you can spend two hours of reading time reading about murder, suicude, execution, family reunion, birth, betrayal and marriage proposals. Not a good time to find out that they math in your knitting pattern was funky, just as you are starting the final step. Most of all, nobody should give even a hint of suggestion that mommy might be taking less than optimal care of the children.

Trees

If a person wanted to plant a Giant Sequoia in his or her yard, the National Arbor Day Foundation sells saplings for eight bucks. If you get in trouble with your homeowners' association, don't blame me cause I'm just sayin'. (do it do it do it do it do it )

Remember This, Grasshopper

Good: Corn muffins fresh from the oven with butter, honey, and a side of bacon. Mmm.

Bad: Getting your belly button jewelry caught on the edge of the counter in front of the sink and not knowing until you walk away. Very bad.

Chocolate Bunnies

Okay, husband, I nicked this from Stephen Redrobe (he knows) who nicked it from somewhere else, where it was nicked from somewhere else, where it was nicked from somewhere else, where it was nicked from somewhere else, where it was nicked from somewhere else...enough credit?

In Honor of National Tartan Day

Ah, nothing like a man in a kilt. There's something about caber tossing that I just can't seem to put my finger on. Hmm...I bet Bert can.

HEY YOU KIDS! GET OFF MY LAWN!

He really needs to relax.

Brain Dump

Unintended chemical experiments have kept me from dumping out my brain for a while, but it's starting to overflow. I have to get it out.

First, I'd like to know why Nelly was on a kids' show on a kids' channel. (and why he picked that stupid name) "Dat shit" isn't really appropriate language for a kids' show. What were they thinking when they booked him? If I want my kids to hear that, I'll just leave the tv off and they can hear it from me when I'm mad. I don't advertise myself as kid-friendly. They do.

The other day, my aunt gave my 4yo an accordian. I'm sure I don't need to say anything about that. The responses are obvious. It was the same day that my mother gave my 2yo a very loud, talking, toy screwgun. His name is Phil the Drill, even though he's not. I guess they couldn't find a name to rhyme with "screwgun".

George Bush is pushing ethanol. Does anyone else see something wrong there? I defintely hear alarm bells going off. He and his puppeteers only do things if there are big dollar signs attached for them. I'm sure it will be no cheaper for the rest of us than gasoline is. At least it will be cleaner. I notice he's not pushing biodiesel, because I can run my car for free after frying up some catfish. Doesn't do him any good. Well, as far as he's figured out yet. I'm sure whatever ends up being profitable will be owned by them in some way. I'm sure they will make accomodating laws tied to homeland security or something. Or more likely, ignore the law altogether. I'd better start making my own solar panels now.

I like The Wiggles. I really do. My kids love them. They're weird, but they're cool. Their music doesn't make me puke. I like it. Sample lyrics "wahoo hey! I'm combing my hair today!" Yes, that's always an event. "Watch him daaaaaance in his pirate paaaaaants." Another good one. And speaking of music, what is it about a the first summery day of April or May that makes me want to put on "Diver Down" and clean the house? Always "Diver Down". Must be memories of warm spring days at school with everyone playing frisbee on the lawn while my husband (then boyfriend) and his friends ran their speakers out the window. All they played there was frisbee. It was a performing arts school, you see. There were hackeysack players too, but they were a minority, as environmental studies was a smaller department.

Yesterday I went shopping. There's a new clothing store in the mall called "Pretty Woman". If you recall, the movie of the same title was about a hooker. Well, the name tells you all you need to know about the clothes they sell. I'm sure they'll do plenty of business.

I know the feeling...

I have days like this all the time. Eventually you go "yeah, something blew up again. Whatever."

Have Fox and Gannon Call Me

I have found the new Peter Allen. It's Anthony from the Wiggles. Seriously. He'd do a really good job. It's almost scary, actually. I'd buy a ticket.

I hate when I do that

I just wrote a JT post involving chocolate raspberry croissants. Now I can practically taste them. Crap. Will I ever learn my lesson? Probably not.

I Needs Me Some Happy

It's difficult not to smile back.

THIS BURNS MY TOAST!!!!!!!!!!

In case some of you might not have realized it, I can be moody. Today I was having a good day. One of the things I had planned was to put our Harry Potter game in debug mode, which will allow us to access hidden areas and a secret game level. My daughter and I were pretty excited about it. So I went into the program and tried to follow the instructions I was given, but the files were completely different from what this guy had listed. So I poked around and finally found what I was looking for and changed debug mode from false to true and saved the changes. Popped in the game, got ready to use debug mode, hit the key I needed to hit, and...NOTHING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DAMMIT!!!!!!!!!!!!! I went back into the files to make sure I had saved the change and I had. So this made me cranky and now I'm mad that I'm cranky! My poor kids.

This Rocks

I mentioned a while back that my dad died in November. He was not a traditonal kinda guy and I'm not very traditional either, so there was no funeral. Instead, he was cremated and is now holding up my DVD's. We are planning a memorial service in June because of his birthday and fathers' day. Thing is, being not very traditional, I'm not sure what to do, although we're probably going to plant a tree in my yard and put his ashes in the hole. He kept wanting to plant a tree here. Anyway, although I missed this episode, I was lucky enough to find the video online- Craig Furgeson's father died in January (you'd think I could keep up with all my harem boys' goings on, but there are so many of them) and he used his show to have a wake for his dad. (I bet the crew got smashed that night) The Wicked Tinkers came on. If you've never heard or seen them perform, go to www.wickedtinkers.com. They banged the drums for Craig's dad. http://www.wickedtinkers.com/Video/TLLS.set.2.mov My dad would love this. The neighbors probably would not. Still pondering...

Call me cruel if you must...

...but I can't perpetuate the myth that has polluted the minds of so many generations. I don't care if it shatters your faith to the very core, you must know the truth.

CURIOUS GEORGE IS NOT A MONKEY! HE'S A CHIMPANZEE!

There, I said it. I feel like a stain has been removed from my soul. Now what's the deal with the man with the yellow hat? Clearly, he is not the zoologist he claims to be. So what's his scam? Pervert?

Waiting for the blizzard

Don't know what I'm waiting for exactly, but I got some cash to pay the shovel guys, plenty of Pepsi and Doritos, Cranium Cadoo, the Olympics on tv, etc. I just took a hot fudge cake out of the oven and I have a really fun MST3000 episode on dvd. My shovel is on the porch, my car is at the end of the driveway and I'm pretty set. I just hope that when the spousal unit gets off the train on Sunday night, he can dig out his car and come home. It does feel nice to not have to go anywhere.

Meanwhile, at Jackman's Table, will Ridgkov- I mean Ridge really be back later? What kind of packing is he helping his old prison buddy do? What kinds of applicants will show up for the new bartender position? Is Jenda now a Russian citizen? Can Raven really have her croissants and eat them too? And what of Antonio? What indeed...

The Day My Butt Went Psycho

That's the title of the book that I just bought for my daughter. I saw it in the bookstore and I couldn't NOT get it for her. It's about butts plotting to take over the world by switching places with the heads and other various dastardly deeds. I heard her laughing until almost midnight. I think I'll have to read it when she's done. I'm also wondering why I didn't write this book.

FINALLY!

I have slain the basilisk and rescued the entire world AND gotten all my gold wizard cards! Now I hope I will stop having dreams of little sparkly gold areas full of jelly beans. I really hope so. Only problem is now I have to help my daughter through, which is how I got roped into this mess. And THEN she'll install "Prisoner of Azkaban". I'm doomed.

I Didn't Watch the Super Bowl

I don't even know who was playing. I do like the commercials and I wanted to see the Stones, but I was too busy collecting jelly beans so that I could have enough of them to buy the Nimbus 2001 from Fred Weasley so that I could fly around collecting yet more jelly beans to buy snot to make the wiggenwild potion so I don't die when those damn little imps bite me and so I can buy wizard cards to get the keys to open the quadruple locked chamber so I can get the gold ones for some reason that I don't know of. My life is complicated.

I'm Comptetely Math Deficient...

...and even I don't need one of those dumbass tip calculation cards! First, let me say that if you are a complete moron, I'm not talking to you. You need one. The rest of you, listen up. How difficult is it to figure out fifteen or twenty percent? I know, you're too busy. Two seconds in the life of the most important person in the world, on whom all other life hinges is just too much. I think that's a separate issue that you will have to address with your therapist, so for now, let's discuss the math that is supposedly so difficult that you need to carry this card in your wallet.

Let's say your bill is $84.95 before tax. How on earth will you figure it out! Oh the drama! Move the fucking decimal to the left to get $8.40! This is ten percent you dumbass! Now take a nap from the mental exhaustion. I'll wait.

Back? Rested? Great. Now that you have ten percent, can you figure out how to get twenty percent? I'm not going to tell you. I refuse. $16.80 you say? Very good! You get a cookie! But wait! You are cheap and only want to give fifteen percent! Oh no! This is a disaster! How on earth will you figure out how to get one and a half ten percents????? I'm not going to tell you. $12.60! Wow, you deserve a vacation after all that hard work. I'll leave it to you to either round down to $12 or up to $13. It's a free country.

It should be the law that anyone who uses a tip card should not be allowed to work at a job that involves percentages, statistics, money, weights and measures, or any kind of profits. It should be legal to search their wallets daily for a tip card. I don't want a pharmacist who can't use a decimal point and I sure don't want someone like that handling my money. And if you are a teacher or involved in education and you use a tip card, you need to go right to the toilet, stick your head in, and flush. Right now. Go.

The rest of you, throw out your tip cards and relish your new freedom from decimal point phobia.

Feeling Especially Irritable

Look, how about you just don't talk to me today, Okay? Thanks.

AAAAAH!!!!!!!!!! FEATHERS!!!!!!!!!

Remember last spring's dance costume from hell? Well, being that I'm an idiot, I let my daughter keep it, thinking that eventually I'd put it together for her. Today I went to clean out their closet and there were just feathers everywhere! I would put something away and feathers would fly up. I'd throw something out and feathers would fly up. I tried to get all the puzzle pieces back into their proper boxes and there were all these tiny feathers trapped among the pieces. They were flying through the air in the whole room and stuck to everything. They're in my hair, on my clothes, and I just knocked one off my nose. We have dance class today and I'm going to look like a crazy person. I'll never get them all off, especially out of my hair.

Maybe that's a good thing though. Maybe everyone will stay far away from me. Last week I was subjected to the Dr. Phil show. No, not on TV. I could ignore that. There was a family there working out their lifetime of issues. The mom brought her daughter to class and brought along the girl's teenage aunt, and the girl's grandfather, who apparently, they hadn't seen in many years and had never met his granddaughter. They hashed through A LOT of stuff at full volume as if they were at home! I was sitting there trying to will myself to go deaf. I felt like yelling "HEY! I'M HERE! HELLO!" but somehow I don't think it would have helped. What the hell is the matter with some people? I don't care who your real father was, as revealed to you on your mother's deathbed. I don't care who the favorite child was and I certainly don't want to hear about the creepy uncle who stalked your boyfriends. How nice that you forgive each other, now SHUT UP! They weren't just telling family stories, they were SHARING FEELINGS that they had never spoken about, ASKING FORGIVENESS for all kinds of major shit. I don't think that stuff is included in the tuition! There was just me and these three wackadoos. I sat knitting and trying to ignore them like they were ignoring me. It was torture. Thankfully, the girl's class ended a half hour later. I'm sure it went on all night. Couldn't they have saved this? I hope they aren't there again today. I'm not that patient. What I need is a can of Freakbegone spray. Anyone know where I can get some?