zamphir panflutemaster

It's official. Ive moved

2008-04-04T09:51:00.001-04:00

Here is my new place . Im still unpacking and rearranging stuff but come see me!

Confidential to Ash: I am not dead but don't tell anyone!

2008-03-10T12:00:00.003-04:00

No I kid. I kid because I care. I don't blog because I suck. I will blog soon. In fact, mostly due to Ash's sweet message, I decided I needed to move blogs. Because it is a pain in the ass to log out of gmail every time I want to blog. (It is also a pain in the ass to have a two year old slam down the laptop lid every time i want to blog but I figured Id start with something easy to change). So I have a new blog. It is called The Crseum once again allowing me to feature my complete lack of creativity when inventing a blog name. But at least it's a place now and not a pseudonym that I can't really explain to anyone and is never addressed in my actual blog. So please come visit me there. I feel good about this people. A new age is dawning..... and as Trelvix said, spring is so close!

Signs of personality deterioration or "you might be watching too much c-span if...."

2008-02-17T22:07:00.004-05:00

I want to blame the illness but in my darkest heart, I fear and know the illness is only a mask. I think if I had more free time and television control, this could easily become my life. It's too late for me friends, but to make sure this doesn't happen to any of you, here are warning signs to look for:

- You are bummed on the weekends because you know the congress segments are all reruns.
- You watch the segments anyway in case they are showing different parts you might have missed.
- You become giddy when you see they are re-showing an oversights committee hearing involving Roger Clemens testimony on steroids.
- You plan your day around the hearing.
- You find yourself holding your bladder until the fifteen minute break so you won't have to miss anything.
- While trying to rest and listen, you are playing your own personal guessing game of trying to figure out the political leanings of each representative based on their line of questioning.
- You have stats for the game.
- You won't be able to play much longer because you are starting recognize reps by their voices without even looking at the screen.
- You become enraged with other reps and shout insults at the screen between fits of coughing. (you subsequently get an unpleasant glimpse about what being old is going to look like for you)
- You find yourself repeatedly fantasizing about how, if an oversights committee ever got shitty with you during whatever hearing you might be subpoenaed to, you would suck up all their allotted time being argumentative and chastising them for rudeness.
- You realize that maybe just maybe, your crush on Russ Feingold isn't...well...normal.

On the positive side, Ive made my decision for the primary. More later....right now I have to get back to catch Vladimir Putin....

Why I can't win friends and influence people

2008-02-14T23:35:00.005-05:00

No this isn't about my suckiness of blogging and reading. I have pneumonia again. Let's pretend that's where Ive been for the past three weeks and it didn't just get bad last saturday night hmm? This is really a random slashy thing but ill start with the title.

- Note to self: when you already do not fit in with the other school moms, do NOT start conversations with the phrase "Don't freak out because Im on antibiotics."

- The meeting was good. Well as good as can be expected during lean times. An example of this would be that Madame Fabu saw me in a lower cut top and asked if I was going to see the guidance counselor in question. I had to explain that these are rough times and I try not to leave the girls home anymore. She suggested I keep a pair of scissors in my car for emergencies.

-Why does nobody ever comment on the harrowing resemblance between Matt Damon and Leonardo DiCaprio? Yes, I did call it a harrowing resemblance. Defy me bitches.

- I had a bad meeting the last sunday in January with church members. Here is the thing. Once you meet a transgendered person, and you really want to like them and they are kind of judging and dismissive of YOU, it's kind of hard to find the right bloggable words. Because friends, Ive wanted to meet a transgendered person for a long time. It was a blow.

- The turnip gets his tonsils out next wednesday. Im a little worried. He is just so little. In the craziest twist of fate ever, he is the most compliant patient. We used to fight norm at the drs. The turnip actually tried to hold a thermometer under his tongue when he just turned two. His last shot made Norm cry but he did not cry himself. He just looked around like "what the hell was that?"

- I think I may have become the single most annoyable person in the world. I thought this at the valentine's party today at norm's school when i wanted to slap down on this woman for walking away from her scoop station. And wanted to add "maybe cuz your stupid" to every inane comment made today. I wonder why they don't like me there.

- Valentine's day is a freaking hell-scam. I spent forty bucks today on cards and candy. And (in reference to the last slash) almost broke a blood vessel when I realized that gill spent over three bucks on what at the time appeared to be the second most lame assed card he's ever bought me. Loyal crsites do you know the first? I admit that one effexor, two tablespoons of the codeine laden cough syrup and a sonicare toothbrush replacement made it appear way less lame and also made me glad I didn't follow my first instinct to cross out the elaborate verse on his card and scrawl "roses are red, violets are blue. You're such a dick and your card sucks bad too." (Before you all crawl up my butt in defense of gill, remember ive been sick. You know how he is with me when Im sick). In fact, despite the enormously unreasonable expense, it was lovely day and he was very kind to me.

- Remember (i cant link to him because Im sick and lazy but look to my sidebar to see that Xavier Onassis at Hip Suburban White Guy is my (and should be your) online resource for the next big holiday, "Steak and blowjob day".

- Man I could go for some scrambled eggs right now. Who wants to come make me scrambled eggs? With some cheese? Anyone?

random slashes of my thursday morning

2008-01-24T05:12:00.000-05:00

- The first is simply a corollary to my post from Tuesday. We will call it texts I never wanted to receive. "You have to get here soon. {Client x} just told me she thinks she is gay and that she and {her best friend} are in love".
- When you are in mental health, you HAVE to keep your beliefs out of your work. For example, you may want to offer a congratulatory hug and words of how happy you are for your teen-aged client when she expresses her sexual identity as mentioned above. However, the fact that she was raised in a conservative religion and that she is completely emotionally dependent upon, yet barely tolerated by her family of origin even now causes a professional to reflect upon the grave professional responsibility (e.g. exactly how many ways bad therapy could fuck up her life right now) in handling this issue appropriately.
- I am sad that I still live in a world where it is not yet safe for a teen-aged girl to explore her sexual identity (and I mean this in terms of emotional soul searching and expressing her thoughts freely, as opposed to explore in the "my license says yes but my daddy says no" way).
- We have a Big Meeting today. I am skeert. I cannot sleep. I dreamt last night that I was homeless and sleeping in fields that had cow-poop everywhere. Apparently, Gill had left me and was trying to get custody of the kids so he could raise them with the help of my mother (who made one of her many inspiring cameos in the dream) and the cow-poop field sleeping was really detracting from my position. I did have a nice stable-like things for the kids to sleep in and I thought it might strengthen my case.
- The dream could have stemmed from the Turnip pooping on the living room carpet last night and the subsequent argument that ensued immediately afterwards. (Yes our carpet is getting quite the work-out this week). I have to say though folks, even retrospectly, I still firmly hold my position that when there is a naked baby in front of you and a pile of baby-shit on your carpet, blame-placing is petty and futile.
- The nails are rapidly deteriorating. I keep looking at my hands and thinking of the Agatha Christie novel "And Then There Were None".

Conversations I didn't want to have today

2008-01-22T23:44:00.000-05:00

(directed to me)
Every sentence involving the videogame "art of persona" or anime, or anime conventions.

A vivid description of a show involving a tribe of folks who circumcise their boys at age five and force them to live apart from their mommies until the wounds heal nine weeks later.

A detailed list of all the ways a mother could die. A list so detailed that she forgot why she even brought the topic up. (needless to say, I did not remind her)

A recap of the episode of "intervention" where a lady let her two year old play with a pack of crystal meth.

(coming from me)

A weak and sad explanation as to why I tear you from your crib as you sleep, force you to ride "stuck" for twenty minutes and then leave you at the sitters.

A weak and defeated explanation as to why it takes more energy to scream that you are too tired to make nachos than it actually would take to make the nachos.

A four hour cycle of repeating the phrases "please stop stepping on me. Please don't climb on my head. Please stop irritating your brother. Please stop screaming. Please tell me what you want. Please. Please. Please."

Actually having to defend the presence of spaghetti on the living room floor which was so not fair since my position on babies and the grossness of mixing them with red sauced foods has been clearly documented for the past five years. (everyone knows babies are best mixed with cream based sauces!)

I will end with a realization I had tonight.
It finally occurred to me tonight that sometimes, when I think people are being nice, they are actually being kind of passive aggressive and mean but I don't even realize the shittiness of the act until years later. Which is disappointing on several levels not the least of which being that for several years Ive been giving undue credit in my mind for the nicety. I realize that probably shouldn't bother me but tonight it really really does.

Every Turkey Dies But Not Every Turkey Truly Lives

2008-01-21T06:02:00.000-05:00

I did not sleep at all last night. At all. It is 603am. I waited until 6am to get out of bed. Because of the "death hour". Last post i discussed some of the non-trivial reasons Ive been away, so let's dedicate this post to something more familiar. Things that make a crse crazy in the night. Or another installment of "what goes on in the mind of a slightly off-balance insomniac in the dead of winter"

- Ill start with "the death hour". SCAREDY CAT WARNING: IF YOU DON'T LIKE THINGS THAT SCARE YOU GO STRAIGHT TO THE NEXT SLASH. You all know I love my boss Lonnie Manko. I am not at liberty to discuss why the show "paranormal state" drew her attention (well I probably am but this am I feel mysterious) but she shared it with us one day at work a few weeks ago. Those who know me well would not for a minute, nay- for even a mili-second think that I would watch this show. (Did I ever post about the "blair crse project?" remind me friends...) Still she innocently shared a piece of alarming information with me. Apparently the hour between three am and four am is the darkest time of the night for all things spooky. I refuse to elaborate more than that. Why? because I cannot leave my room/pee in my bathroom/look at the clock/emerge from a bastardized attempt at sight and sound-proofing through blankets during this hour. As well you can imagine, this is pure insomniacal hell. I am pretty sure Lonnie M. is not happy to know this either although she is somewhat braver than me.

-"what would you do if your son was at home cryin' all alone on the bedroom floor cuz he's hungry and the only way to feed him is to sleep with a man for a little bit of money" I HAVE to remember to not start singing that around Norm. Did we handle the Jamie Lynn Spears thing correctly? Man Im so glad we got the satellite radio. It's so awesome. I need to clean my car.

-The medical cycle. This goes something like "I need to find a dentist. I wonder if I have that gum disease that eats bones away and now I won't be able to get dentures. I really don't know how I feel about my new dr. I should switch before it goes any further between us. But Moe really likes her. And she did that blood test in her office. Should I get the boys tested for lead? I hate to put them through that. I still owe co-pays on Turnip's birthing bills."

-Needless to say, this leads to The financial cycle. "I need to call the student loan people. What will I tell them. I really don't feel obligated to pay the damn mafioso dentist. Will we ever get our finances straightened out? I really need to invest in another toothbrush. Maybe I will buy the mean green machine tomorrow. We need a larger george foreman grill. We are better than this."

- I wonder if Im bi-polar. Would my therapist tell me if I was? I think Im going to ask her.

- Could I redecorate the house in a completely low impact way? Do they sell "healthy" paint at lowe's?

- I think I need to cut my losses on the lost adderall prescription. I go for a med-check next Tuesday. I am going to try to eke by on day meds, old straterra and the 60 mgs I have left. (Im saving those for this thursday. We have a special meeting.)

-Man my hands were cold today. I really want the carpal tunnel surgery but what will I do with myself if I cant play video games or write?

- I wonder why the turnip never says he loves us. Did we do something to make him so emotionally unavailable or did something happen in his past life?

- I am worried Norm is getting a kind of goth streak. He is really into the mourning aspects of death (BTW we no longer have a gerbil)

- WillyWonka WillyWonka. Man I wish Norm liked that movie.

- How the hell could I miss Rambo's birthday? I talked about it for five solid days? Why must I suck?

- (Im leaving the mind ramble format to share here for a minute folks, I didn't know how to put this in mind ramble form)Here is the thing about my hair cut. I was feeling incredibly insecure about it but lately Im feeling better about it. Why? Well you would think it was because of the millions of people that i like and trust telling me they really like it and that it looks nice. But no. It's not because of that. I'm very very ashamed to admit this but it's because an older single bloated creepy guy who Im fairly certain was arrested (although not convicted) on sex charges in the late 90s who happens to work with us (Lonnie DID NOT hire him. I feel compelled to tell people this) told me it was "cute". Now why is this significant? I will tell you why. Because he is a lewd creepy guy, if he found it to be a non-descript soccer mom cut he would have called it "nice". Calling it cute made it sound well...fashionable. And I feel ashamed of myself friends. Especially in regards to my real-time friends who have also called it "cute" and "nice" and (in a little grateful shout-out to Spike) "a lot better". It's not that I didn't believe you all but there was something to having the creepy guy accept my hair that validated me in a way that nothing else did. I don't know what that says about me but it's probably not good. Well...Im pretty sure it's not good at all.

ok I think Im going to email rambo a birthday wish and do some work now. It's kind of good to be back.

Don't freak out with the whole two posts in one day thing!

2008-01-17T23:06:00.000-05:00

So Ive been sick. Real sick. Pukin' my brains out sick. For 36 ~~years~~ hours. It was gross. Exhausting. Painful. But at the same time, I did catch up on some reading. And strangely, got my brain age down to 22 (?). I also had a lot of time to think. Between the puking of course. And Ive been thinking. I think I need to change the direction of my blog. Ive always prided myself on being trivial here. But lately, my life has taken a direction that has kept me away because Im getting involved in some way not trivial things. (Did I mention I was on a list to try to "adopt" a temporarily homeless gay college student over New Year's? He worked it out thankfully and was able to go back home) But I miss you folks. And I also feel like I need an outlet for the ideas that crop up in this sharp as a tack 22 year old mind (bay-beeeee)(yes that's sarcasm). And Im starting to think I need to say things just because they need to be said. And because Im getting more and more pissed off and i don't have too many other appropriate places to put my pissed offedness. So I might be getting more political here. Or maybe I should just say more vocal about my frustration or sense of impotence about the social injustices I am looking at these days. I will still try to make it fun for you though. And in between impulsive , incoherent, possibly ill-informed and most likely not well thought out rants, I will keep you posted about all things crse, such as the drama of my broken nail (Now i UNDERSTAND why they say people cry over a broken nail!) or how thanks to Lucy, I now proudly chair the Mint subcommittee in our church. (no it was mockery, not a real subcommittee, but the mints make me feel like our church shares a little hug with every partaker of candy)(Sega? Remember the tic-tac story? Its along those lines! Remind me to tell you the dog-poop story. I missed you at group BTW)

Still here? Well friends, like a good dog who won't leave the damn bone alone, I am back on the whole identification needed to vote gnaw jaw. It happened when I was rifling through papers the other day and I found my little voting reminder with the big blatant PAY TO VOTE (photo Id required) stamp across the front and friends, I physically reacted. I am not quite sure why of all the social injustices in the world this one PISSES me off so bad.

When I reflect upon it, I think it has something to do with my (possibly naive) need to believe that despite all the yuckiness surrounding our forefathers, there are indeed certain truths that NEED to be self-evident. And if the constitution does in fact enumerate these truths as rights guaranteed to all citizens of our country (i know don't waste your breath, I already said it was naive). Up until last November, all I needed to exercise my right to vote was a signature. I never thought much about it (well I actually did but that's a whole other post dealing with my fascination with record keeping books) until I realized it was gone. Looking back, I see it as a beautiful expression of democracy that I totally took for granted. Reflective of the inherent dignity of all citizens regardless of race or class status. By signing our names, we were saying that despite the fucked up electoral process and all the partisan bull-shit, all citizens who choose to vote are equals on election day. We all matter the same amount. One person. One signature. One vote. Delusional? well of course but dammit, it was something. And they took it away. For no good reason. Despite what the mindless soundbite-hungry morons will tell you, the photo-id crap was a direct result of reports released from a supposedly "non-partisan" organization that ultimately disbanded in early 2007, after pretending to find a bunch of information supporting exactly what karl rove wanted them to support. And what do we have now? Continued exploitation of the disenfranchised is NOT the answer.

So that there is my vent.

So did I tell you guys I joined a social action group? Yeah....im hoping it helps with this sort of thing....

update

2008-01-17T08:30:00.000-05:00

Not dead yet. Have been sick and nursing a sick turnip. Is it wrong to find it completely adorable that when he pukes he says "I choke!" Heartbreaking but adorable. He was so sick he could only utter three words "mine" "no" and "stop". I thought at least he is in his happy place. Right now he is much better. He is beating Gill with a Wii game saying "I watch this daddy".

I beat guitar hero on easy. My new goal is to play all the songs on easy till I get five stars. Im just not ready to add the blue key yet.

I'd gotten my brain age down to 26. After the turnip's illness, it is back up to 34. I guess it's good it's out of the 40s.

I think I might be battling with clinical depression. Not the gun to your head kind. The "what the hell is the point of getting out of bed ever?" kind. I lost my adderall prescription which kind of complicates things.

Depression could also be complicated by the fact that Elmo's world, which used to be a source of comfort for my baby, now sends him into a flying rage that makes me fear for my safety.

You know it's a bad week when you are getting messages like "don't call me back if you are still sick...it's that bad." and yet you are giddy to go to work anyway.

Monday Musings

2008-01-07T09:19:00.001-05:00

Sometimes a fifty cent bag of caramels seems like a much better deal than it actually turns out to be.

If you are in a long term relationship and you love your partner, you might want to think about the implied cruelty of telling them they have a big glop of chocolate candy on their left butt-cheek pant leg when they are getting up to give an announcement in church and are completely powerless to do anything about it.

White-out. I have never had a good relationship with white-out. I have hopes that it will turn out like cream cheese and the office supply version of the secret answer to 25 years of squishing the cream cheese out of the package in a time consuming, messy and largely unproductive manner will suddenly become evident. I need the white out secret answer.

"knock knock"
who's there?
"ketchup"
ketchup who?
I dont know!

there is something unspeakably profound to be discovered in the knock knock joke of a two year old.

So guitar hero turns out to be a dark mistress. I should have seen trouble coming during the prison show when i had the rock battle with slash from guns n roses. But after spending two frustrating days trying to figure out how to get past the creepy looking unwashed plumber guy who shamed me mercilessly in the first battle, my relatively quick success with slash lulled me into a false sense of confidence. Things started to go really badly in Japan (note: the Japanese guitar hero fans are much less forgiving and mannerly than the fellows at the prison when a song falls apart. I was appalled. I thought Japanese culture was more genteel than this!) At around 1am I found myself face to face with a battle for my soul. The worst part? The battle involves a song list that could easily been constructed in a personal nightmare. (you know the one....you cant find any pants and every where you go people are serving food you don't like for dinner.) At that point I went to bed. Ill keep you posted.

For the record, as Ive alluded to several times, I am also harboring an addiction to the nintendo game "brain age". I am currently obsessed with "virus busters" which appears to be a very low tech version of atari's space invaders (there are no stars...)

ok friends thats all I got. Gill is making me battle for my soul. He is certain I will lose as "I am not quite evil enough"

Good night and godspeed friends...

NO MORE EXCUSES

2008-01-03T08:51:00.001-05:00

That's what i said to myself on Tuesday. I will admit that now it is definitely the wii. And nintendo brain age. And a somewhat clingy and destructive turnip. This too shall pass. Gill is blogging and I am not. All my neglected feeling bloggy friends? Im not reading his blog either. My own life partner. Soul mate. Etc. And I Don't Read His Blog.

I could make this how i suck or i can come back with a long overdue tag from everyone's blog darling Maggie May . I know ive probably shared every weird thing about me in general so Ill pop some recent ones on you folks for the "seven things people might not know about you" me-me.

1. I have fake nails right now. Some of you know this but most of you don't. Im fairly certain that regular readers understand that this is indeed a very odd thing to hear about me. All I can say is....Madame Fabu is involved. Oh and it's a french manicure.

2. I also have a Really Bad Haircut. Gill hates it. He keeps threatening to withhold intimacy and forcing me to drink milk. After being dry humped and propositioned several times per our usual routine, I feel safe in saying that the threat is unfounded. However, I cannot be fully certain that the nails have not been responsible for bringing me back into good graces.

3. Our new family past-time is this game called "boogie" for the wii. It's really lame but I sing off-key kereoke (sp?) and the boys all dance with controllers. Truly a sight to behold.

4. My friend Andy just introduced me to the bathroom reader institute series of books. (She gave me one for christmas)As most of you know, I seldom get to toilet alone so I had to bring it to bed. Friends, I could not put it down! This was one of my top gifts of the season.

5. My other top gift came from Lucy. The "Our Dumb World" Atlas by the Onion. (to help me explore the "soft science" of geography.) It has features like "how much does bono care about your country?" and such.

6. I just realized that you folks don't know about my recent foray into the wonderful world of candy making. I will offer more details later but I will tell you that it is indeed the sticky nightmare/wonderland adventure you might envision it to be. I also am trying to figure out how to use this newfound "skill" to fund....

7. Dodgeball! Yes friends, it is true. My town is starting a dodgeball league and yours truly is coming in on the ground floor. Oh the tales to be told...the adventures to be had...

Ok Ill offer some half-hearted promises and catch up soon!

Snow Day!

2007-12-17T08:22:00.000-05:00

What a better way to start out a snow day than to swallow the tip of your nintendo DS stylus! Oh wait! You can make it better! Make sure you go into a hysterical panic when this happens. It will be especially helpful if you scream in protest when your mom calmly suggests we call poison control to check on any harmful side effects we should be aware of. (Note to those who may find themselves in this position in the future: There are not.) With any luck, you will soon be joined by your chronically whiny and dissatisfied little brother. I may have more blogging today. I don't know yet.

guilt vs. avoidance? Guilt wins again!

2007-12-14T07:59:00.000-05:00

It takes a frowny face email friends. It's my thursday small supervision groups. They know how to work me(Well hell, they are counselors and social workers, they should know!). Im sorry. I do have blog-guilt every day friends. Lately though, I fear thinking creatively will hurt my brain. But today I woke up to a frowny sad face email from my friend Drew (because she looks like a young drew barrymore. Before she went bad. I mean like when she was ten. Except if she had grown up without the hard living) saying she missed the blog. OHHH OK. What do I got though? Let's see? I can recite entire sections of Elmo in Grouchland now. (For those of you uninitiated, it's the story of one monster's journey to face the darkest part of evil in order to get his blanket bank. In doing so, he manages to break through widespread apathy and unite all of grouchanity. It really was inspiring the first seventy five times or so. Now we all want to put our eyes out and puncture our eardrums as soon as bert and ernie come on the screen.)(My favorite part being when the bad guy Huxley describes how he owns everything everything he touches. "You see this tennis racket? PING I own it. This hammer? PING I own it. This velvet painting of Elvis? I didn't really want it PING I own it. And this blanket, I didn't borrow it. I didn't rent it. I didn't even taken out a thirty six month lease on it but ohhhhh PING I own it." Thats masterful dialogue friends. Masterful dialogue. Ok, Im off to work friends. Ill try to be better and catch up soon. This time it's different....honest...

Public Service Announcements For The Panflutemaster House: Wednesday 12-5-07

2007-12-05T07:22:00.000-05:00

There will be no ketchup in our house until Friday.

It is not appropriate to pin your brother in a corner with the broad side of a broom when you are supposed to be getting dressed for school.

It is also not appropriate to add the phrase "Jews are the Jewiest" to your extrapolation of the noggin song. Especially not in front of your father, who is of Jewish heritage. Or during the intergenerational church service discussing the blending of Christmas and Chanukah celebrations.

Addendum from earlier in the week: If you are trying to convince a life long Christian to join your church, do not absent-mindedly peruse the news letter and make remarks like "Damn, Ill be in the nursery during the "Dancing goats" service".

Bad guys do indeed have to go to the bathroom like everybody else.

It's probably not the best idea to say to the football coach on your first day of practice "I want to start with something easy."

Despite popular household belief, two year olds really don't need to wear deodorant every morning.

That is all for today. Stay tuned for further announcements.

My baby, My Terrorist Captor or Anatomy of an Ear Infection

2007-11-29T06:19:00.000-05:00

• peed on the vanity in my bathroom
• Refused to get dressed, thus forcing me to do the “pin the cat on the hot rock” dance
• Tantrummed all the way to drop Norm off at school
• Tantrummed all the way to sitter
• Had to be pried from arms at sitter
• Was happy for a total of 37 seconds after leaving sitters.
• Stripped off all clothes and ran away giggling maniacally upon return to house
• Threw a plate of chips on the floor in abject disgust
• Played quietly for about five minutes which should have been a big red alarm siren
• Speaking of big and red, came running out of my bedroom giggling as soon as suspicion was smelled.
• Greeted me waving hands covered in bright red paint, “look look”. Look at the bright red paint covering my hands and half my body.
• Ran back into the bedroom before being snatched and thrown into the tub
• Cheerfully offered to “help” as I scrubbed the bath of already dried red paint in a futile attempt to remove trail from rug.
• Yelled “top it” when I collapsed on the floor and begged nobody in particular to just put me inpatient.
• Threw another bowl of chips on the floor in a rage.
• Would not leave my side for the rest of the evening

• Fell asleep at 10pm. Woke up at 1am
• Engaged in an hour long demand ridden play fest of peek-a-boo and pat-a-cake
• Watched Melmo til 4am. Screaming MOM every time my eyes closed
• Finally asked for dad.

I will save my detailed metaphorical description entitled “my baby, my hairshirt” until Ive polished it more.

Please insert "peed on my leg after refusing to put on diaper" right after "threw second of bowl of chips on floor"

Random Tuesday Thoughts

2007-11-27T07:06:00.000-05:00

* Chocolate Honeycombs were a huge disappointment to me. I felt truly defiled after trying them.

* I had a small epiphany today about feeding my old bread to the wildlife in my back yard. It occurred when as I was looking for something to make a sandwich with I pulled out a loaf of bread that i love in toast form but not so much in sandwich form. (actually Im a bun girl. People might not know that about me....Which reminds me, I wonder what it means that I dreamt last night that I remembered to grab the left over buns Madame Fabu offered me from mini-fabu's birthday party on saturday. It was a really good dream.)The bread was covered in white "stuff". After my initial reaction of grossed outedness, my second thought was "now this is the kind of bread that makes a person see God. This is like Revelations inspiring bread." And my third thought was just a vision of a bunch of scared and confused stoned out of their minds birds, chipmunks and squirrels trying to negotiate the last few days of uncovered ground before the winter. I cant believe i never thought of this before. I feel like the Jim Jones of small woodland creatures.

* I think my "better with butter" strategy was not such a good idea after all. (for those who don't recall, I developed this theory around the time of the turnip's birth that since margarine is bad for you and butter is bad for you, if I just indulged in the butter, I would feel more satisfied and ultimately cut down my cream type spread usage) Two years and several previously inexplicable pounds of weight gain later, Im starting to think I may have missed a flaw in that particular logical process.

*Having said that, I just now realized that if you melt a tablespoon of margarine and drip it on top of frozen pretzels, it not only tastes delicious but offers a delightful alternative to the "wet your pretzel" method Ive been struggling with since the dawn of frozen hot pretzels. Disclaimer: Oh I can wet yer pretzel baby...just not if it comes packaged frozen with disjointed instructions for salt application.

* Needless to say, this little experiment begs the question, would the pretzels taste even better with real butter?

* Which leads me to confess to the most dramatic aspertame relapse Ive had since my initial recovery. It was safe crisis management training friends. I had to be there at 8AM. There were limited caffeinating options. I am so weak.

*Ah but yet I am not! I felt pretty ass kicking good about the "physical assist" part of the training. My friend Micky may have been completely humoring me but it worked. And Spike (who was our trainer) was positive about all the ones he evaluated except for the escape holds. (which in fairness, he was positive about. He was praising of the form but did point out that they were completely wrong. He even stopped short of the fact that the only way I could probably get away using these forms would be if my attacker peed his pants from laughing. Micky, however, went ahead and took the obvious shot)

* I will elaborate at length about the training soon but will tell you that with just a little polishing I truly believe I could totally kick ass both at christmas brunch (or linner as my brother is calling it as it's moved to later in the day) when sibling stuff arises and at social drinking occasions as well. Just wait til spring season!

* I need to figure out how to remove corrosive battery residue from my sonicare innards. Its the dark side of my happy toothbrush world and I never expected to see it.

* I miss my blog friends. Thank you so much for not giving up on me. My Christmas present to myself is to catch up on you folks.

The lens of fate

2007-11-25T20:25:00.000-05:00

Hello loyal friends. We could make this a post about how much I suck or you can just let me lay it on the line. I suck. I truly believe its going to get better. I could try to explain where Ive been but it would really not make sense to anybody but possibly Gill and Madame Fabu because my reasons for absence would sound obscure and stupid to everyone else but I assure you they are entirely real and 100% logistical. (no crisis or illness or even lack of motivation to blog. Its there my friends. I am just having pure logistical problems) In lieu of describing them in tedious detail (too late? Im so sorry!) I will allude to them with a small tale. Let me preface the tale with disclaimer that I am here not because I have solved the problem but because I am braving these severe logistical conditions because my dearest sega continues to be a rockstar in every way and has expressed the need for updates. Ok so here is my little morality play.

Did you ever have one of those moments in time when you are involved in something and you are about to take an action and a very loud voice in your head is yelling "THIS IS A VERY BAD IDEA!"? Ok I know several of my realtime friends (Luckybuzz comes to mind in particular)can relate to this both about themselves and about me re: the late 80s and early 90s. Im not talking about THAT kind of bad idea. Im talking about the kind that happens when you are absorbed in an activity that requires you moving between several different rooms and are spontaneously approached by your two year old to take off your glasses. As you take them off and put them somewhere that is cognitively identified by you as "NOT A SAFE SPACE" (but not identified in terms of specific location of course...), you immediately stop thinking about your glasses and your two year old's sudden interest in them.

Needless to say, I had this type of moment on Friday morning. I did not think about my glasses at all until several hours later when Gill and I were in our bedroom cleaning and Gill suddenly said in a very alarmed tone of voice "Crse." I look up and he is holding one lens that clearly belong(s)(ed) to my glasses. Friends, it was like finding a human hand belonging to someone you did not even know was missing. Frantically we started tearing apart the bedroom. We dissembled the bed. We emptied drawers. Of course I flashed back to that moment in time (still believing for some ludicrous reason that the glasses were still where i left them despite the clear dismemberment that took place). Nothing. Friends, we looked as much as we could Saturday. We literally tore apart the furniture in the living room in a desperate attempt to find some sort of forensic trail of evidence. Nothing. At one point, I even tried a trick that actually worked on Norm when he was the turnips age.

"Baby? Will you help mommy find her glasses?"
"Nope".
"Do you know where mommy's glasses are?"
"Glasses."
"YOU help mommy find them?"
"Nope".

Cut to Sunday night and I am reliving the moment over and over trying to remember what the hell I was doing when it occurred. Bonsai calls me. She is somewhat stressed because she went back to school and because well...she lives with my brother which would require anyone to need sedative medication. I am telling her the story to cheer her up. (She does enjoy her nephews so). And I am stretched out on my bed and Im looking at my exercise bike which is about two feet from me. I suddenly remember Gill mentioning at some unrelated to frantic searching moment on friday that the bike sounded like something was stuck inside. Yup. Guess who's polishing his fine motor skills....

Maybe this is just a bad dream Monday

2007-11-19T21:21:00.000-05:00

It cant possibly be Monday can it? Only Monday? I guess in terms of days it wasnt a BAD day per se. You just know that it isnt going to be the day you want when you here a little perky voice next to you at ten to six saying "guess what mommy? Daddy is gone already! Lets watch some cartoons in bed!" Especially when your viewing buddy is a wiggler, twitcher, climber and commenter. I sensed the day was not going to get better when I had to send Madame Fabu a briefing about a work situation and decided that the most fitting subject line would be "you are just going to love this (and no it's not a forward, its sarcasm)" (thanks for hanging in there with me through all of this today Madame F!) It could have seriously been much much worse. In fact, I now have a new character to introduce into the blog soon. Ive decided to call him Hemlock. He is my new arch nemesis. He is a supervisee and he is like the Lex Luthor to my Superman of passive aggressivity. I don't have the energy to begin the tale right now but I will tell you that he is truly a worthy adversary. As annoying and manipulative as his tactics may be, I often find myself thinking "Well-played sir. Touche."

Im reliving my childhood through my son. Soccer Mom shit? nope. Overfriending his friends? nooo. Apparently my Patsy Ramsey contribution to my son's education is to put off practicing his sight words until TWO days before the end of the nine weeks then try to teach him eight words (six of which he hasn't seen in at least a week) by chasing him around the house with flash cards that I FINALLY GOT AROUND TO CREATING YESTERDAY. Yes son, this is my legacy to you. You are five years old and already learning the art of procrastinating and cramming. Welcome to the amazing world of academics my child. Its all yours. In fact, go on ahead and have a beer because now that we've introduced you to the cycle of guilt, unbearable pressure and the sense of incessant dissatisfaction that emerges once you realize how well you could have done if you weren't such a self-destructive slack ass with avoidant personality disorder, a drinking problem is your next logical step. Seriously though? Next nine weeks will be better. I swear.

I write this pretending that it was only the sight words that escaped our review this past nine weeks. Sadly, you can guess the truth when I share Norm's quote of the night (offered in a tearful scream) "Will you JUST STOP asking me questions about my HANDS?" (it was a left right thing). Mother of the Year friends. Mother. Of. The. Year.

The Secret: And how it changed my family

2007-11-17T23:50:00.000-05:00

Well friends. Two days and im off the wagon. But hey. Im gonna keep trying. So today's installment is about our life-changing evening tonight. I never suspected that when Gill came home last night with the DVD "The Secret" (thankfully he borrowed it) (From a fellow at work who was rumored to be hired in the same position Gill is doing at roughly ten thousand more dollars a year)(Needless to say, Gill thought perhaps there might be a connection between this little turn of events and "the secret"). How was that for a parenthetical cluster?

Anyway, as well you can imagine, (or maybe you cannot) I am somewhat cynical about any "life secret" that is being sold in DVD form and has been featured on Oprah. Don't get me wrong friends. I love Oprah. Who does not love Oprah? But seriously? Dr. Phil, A million little pieces (or whatever that scam was), Jenny McCarthy and most importantly lest we forget...the Tom Cruise couch jumping incident? Still, Gill asks so little of me(mostly because he prefers the naggy bitch approach to getting me to do stuff)so tonight we all sat down together and watched "The Secret".

I want to begin my review with something positive. I really do. Ok, so yes, I do believe in the Law of Attraction. It's called positive thinking. I know that term is probably foreign to most of you who haven't bought the DVD. Thats because those of us who have "The Secret" have been trying to keep it from you for two thousand years. Because nobody could expect a person to pick up a fucking religious text or study the life of someone who has made a significant difference in humanity or even see a therapist who might clue them into "The Secret". Is this woman serious? Am I some sort of emotional health elitist who just assumed people were not so idiotic as to need to pay 30 bucks to find out that negative thinking breeds negativity? Alright so its not what you'd call a fair and balanced review. Let me try again.

It was kind of funny. Funny is good. Each section would show a written title and some sort of truism in print (calligraphy or some other FANCY PRINT). Then there would be a whispered voice over reading the truism aloud. I really enjoyed that. So much so that I cant wait for an opportunity to start whispering really obvious statements loudly to Gill during conversations. And the music totally had a 700 club "mystical experience: I talked to Jesus" feel about it. I liked that a lot.

We spent a lot of time during the DVD explaining to Norm that much of what they were saying was true. You do need to trust the universe. You need to have an attitude of gratitude. And you always get what you want. These are messages we are trying to impart upon him anyway, but we needed to tease out the whole "and its some huge mystery nobody ever wanted you to know". I think Norm really appreciated this.

In sum, our family decided that the Turnip is already living "The Secret". Which is why we are constantly being forced to watch "melmo on demand" or suffer the dire consequences of a Turnip scorned. Norm then decided he is going to make "The Secret" work for him. To practice, we spent the rest of the evening placing demands and staring pointedly in silence at each other just to see what would happen. Periodically the Turnip would hit one of us, which of course is what we attracted to ourselves. I am sad to say that Norm appears to have gotten more of his sense of humor from his father as he was not even slightly amused when I noted that we want to be hit every time the little maniac philosopher hits us.

In all honesty, I could go on at length about my concerns about a society that is being bilked into believe basic mental health is a "secret that has travelled through the ages". I could also rant about my disgust on several different levels. But the bottom line is "The Secret" makes me realize that I could easily drive my family completely insane for the sake of my own amusement. How can that not be a gift worthy of 29.95 plus shipping and handling?

I bought bad pie and I cannot lie

2007-11-15T23:20:00.000-05:00

And no Lucy they were not market day pies. They were pies of shit. If I told my blogger friends how many pies I own right now, it would shock you all. (I say own because my pies are currently being housed in three different locations. No wait four) I own eleven pies right now. I had thirteen. Thankfully, only five of the thirteen pies were bad pies. I have no good reason for owning eleven pies. In essence? The pies are physical manifestations of my boundary problems. Generally, Im ok with a physical reminder of bad boundaries as long as it's tasty. The not so tasty ones make me want to step up my therapy rotation.

The democratic debate is on. I miss Mike Gravel. Joe Biden has the most disturbing forehead Ive ever seen. Is it me or is Wolf Blitzer kind of bitchy tonight?

I want to give more to you tonight friends. You deserve it. But Im congested and sleepy. Its good to be back though...

For Sega

2007-11-14T23:34:00.000-05:00

Today is my anniversary.(well for the next 25 minutes it is) I bet you think I am breaking my week long fall off the nanoblowme month (or whatever the hell it is that i need to seek remotivation for) wagon to wax poetic about my beloved spouse. Well...no. Although I did empty the trash for him today. (Happy Anniversary Honey!) In reality so far our only present to each other is a hardcover bargain book about corrupt popes in history. (and our mutual giddiness about this book might explain why we are paired so well) Its been 13 years, we have two small needy children and its a damn wednesday today so I really got nothing for him here besides a little shout out of love and a half hearted promise not to kill him by the end of november (because seriously? If you are half of a dual income family and you have two small and incredibly needy children, why would you not try to WRITE A FUCKING NOVEL DURING THE MONTH OF NOVEMBER???? Because god knows the EIGHT CHILDLESS VIDEO GAME FILLED NOVEMBERS we shared before all this did not provide ample opportunity to explore this. Nope. We must find the most absolutely inconvenient stage of our family's life and then commit to setting extremely unrealistic goals about writing so we can make our family miserable for 30 days either through neglecting them or whining about not writing when we are with them) (Happy anniversary honey).

Forgive the digression. I have been gone. I am not catching up on blogs yet. I am sort of back i think though. Tonight however, i am here for Sega. Who saved our collective asses this week during a sort of surprise audit from the state. Shall I continue? Perhaps through bulletted form.

* Stardate: Monday Nov. 12, 2007:1214pm: Get the call from Lonnie Manko that begins with, "Ok dont freak out. Well...you are probably going to freak out but you need to understand this is actually a compliment." Basically, the gist was that I was selected as part of a list of folks who were VOLUNTARILY offered to the auditor for review!

* Now friends, I don't want you to be mistaken about my response. Lonnie was right. It was not only a compliment it was a total leap of freaking faith for several reasons including but not limited to the fact that my paperwork skills have been compared to those of a small nesting rodent and the fact that during the mock audit I defied all odds by not only finding all of the common auditor traps and falling right into them but also trapping myself in awkward and inappropriate monologues.

* I may have already told you this but for the above reasons, I was actively seeking ADA status for my attention disability. I was hoping this type of status would protect the agency from being shut down in case I did encounter an auditor.

* So needless to say, I completely did freak and I did what any logical person would do faced with possible scrutiny of my clinical and administrative skills. ~~Reviewed my paperwork~~ ~~Studied standard of care guidelines~~ I CLEANED MY CAR!!! And boy didn't it look spiffy at the end.

* I will spare you blow by blow descriptions of the following twenty four hours but here are some highlights.

* I broke the cord off my laptop before I could access any of the information Ive been hoarding on my hard drive that should have already been in the chart.

* I spent about forty five minutes being lambasted by Gill for my 112 dollar mistake.

* I ate a lot of bad food.

* I realized that the 13th would be the 3rd anniversary of my mother's breaking up with us. Spent time trying to figure out the half-life of the relationship to see when I could say I was "over" her. I think i have fourteen years still but i could be wrong...

* I spent time researching information about any possible injury I could inflict upon myself that would not hurt too badly but still guarantee admission into the hospital.

* I spoke to my friend Andy who offered to a) make sure our client was "not available" or b) slip the auditor some aquadots that she had bought before the recall and had not yet returned. She figured we could tell the guy that he slept through the whole session but we would keep his little "problem" a secret. Yes of course this made me feel better.

* I did review the chart. I printed out a bunch of necessary stuff. And left it at home.

* I commiserated with Sega who is so organized and auditor friendly that she was actually my personal chart manager in preparation for an audit a few years back. I was relieved to find out that she was also terrified and had indeed cleaned her car as well!

* I imagined every stupid thing I could possibly say in front of the auditor.

* I panicked for thirty minutes about the fact that the chosen case involves a client's mother who hugs me when she sees me. I like that she hugs me. I was terrified about the implications.

* I comforted myself by inflating the importance of the clean car and fantasizing about how impressed the auditor would be with my orderliness.

* I found and wore my badge. Unfortunately, it did repeatedly flip to the backside causing Andy to speculate that I was actually trying to mask a cosco card as my Employee ID.

* I slept four hours and had nightmares the entire time.

In the end, Sega was the chosen one and friends, she was a rock star. The rest of us on the list tried not to put pressure on her to convince the auditor that nobody else would need to be seen after she had done her magic. Our friend L Pow-Yung offered to tongue kiss her if she got us out of it. I did too but it was decided that I would have done it anyway and that couldn't really count as a bribe. She had a beautiful chart and answers for everything. She wooed the auditor on the ride-along and pretty much took the bullet for the team. We passed with compliments! All told, Sega was not interested in our tongue kisses and was gracious about taking the hit for us. But she did tell me she missed my blogging so friends, this one is for her!

And to further celebrate her contribution I am going to try to resume my post a day commitment. Here is the problem friends. I feel so damn guilty if I dont read all my blogs, comment on them, and reply to all of your comments. I cant keep up so I just avoid. (yeah yeah yeah its a metaphor for my life..whatever) Im going to try something new friends. Im just going to do my best to stay posted. I will try to catch up slowly on my blogs but it's going to take time. I do want to say that I don't have an order so if you see that ive not gotten to yours, don't take it personally. I just go down the list and the list is not in order! Ok thanks for your patience friends. Happy Ides of November!

for the record

2007-11-08T23:13:00.000-05:00

Friends, I am EXHAUSTED. The turnip did not sleep last night and every time I drifted off, he screamed in my face and smacked me. And yes, it was exactly as charming and adorable as it sounds. (please ignore sound of glass breaking as your host smashes head through the window) I cannot keep my eyes open. Slept most of the evening. Im sorry. Im even typing with my eyes shut right now. Ill make it up friends. I will!

Must. Blog. Today.

2007-11-07T23:52:00.000-05:00

The day was long. I am tired. I drank WAYYYY too much caffeine today. BUT NO aspartame. Recycling can get very cluttery when it stays at your house. You know when you’ve been married a long time and you totally totally adore the person and you still think about beating them? Maybe giving them nose bleeds? I mean you don’t do it but you think about it? And not for huge character flaws but for little things. Like making the children miserable. Or steadfastly refusing to admit that either a) there is a problem with the laundry or b) the laundry is deliberately being tampered with to ensure that you are constantly sniffing all your clothes only to find out ten minutes after you leave the house that the one ARM you missed has “the smell”. (you know the smell friends. The “no I didn’t leave the laundry sit in the washer for three days, you are imagining things” smell.) Or claiming to lack the social skills to order a pizza or deal with the car repair guy but will tell you in detail how you failed to give the proper information. Or will pick out WINTERGREEN gum went sent by you and another couple through the express line to purchase some gum. (and shout out to Madame Fabu because yes indeed it does taste like pepto bismo) Or FORGETS to take the baby to day-care when you are sick and can barely get out of bed. I am happy in my marriage, friends. I really am. I just think I would feel better if I smacked Gill more frequently. Or even just flicked his bald head. It seems like lately I can hardly be next to him without fighting the overpowering desire to flick his bald head when he pisses me off. It just seems like it would be so…rewarding. I do look forward to growing old with him.

Ok I really hope I never become one of those ladies with a man haircut dyed orange. What makes a person think that haircut is a good idea? Those who know me in real time are probably shaking their heads right now at what might appear to significant self delusion in terms of my own hair. But here is the thing friends. I DO NOT SEEK THIS HAIR OUT. IT JUST HAPPENS. I was watching a woman get into her car today with this hair. She was middle aged and not particularly attractive (orange man-hair notwithstanding). She was with her husband. I could not stop thinking about her hair folks. What happened? Did she give up? Did her husband finally notice a really bad hair cut years ago because it was manly and orange and didn’t know what to say so he told her it looked nice which caused her to keep the cut to “impress” him? I can totally get behind the whole “I just don’t care about my appearance” idea. It’s the seeking the ugly cut I just don’t understand. Ok buddies. Just reached 500. Did not think Id make it but damn it, if I cant flick his bald head, I certainly cannot give Gill the satisfaction of missing my word count! Im off to drown my sorrows in a glass of wine and some honey mustard Pringles. Until tomorrow friends….

the obligatory sleepy post

2007-11-06T19:33:00.000-05:00

I don’t think Im gonna make five hundred today. Im very sleepy. Its been a long day. My oldest child swallowed his tooth and missed the bus. (Does telling him the tooth fairy won’t pay him unless he digs the tooth out of his poop qualify as abusive?) (Oh relax people. He didn’t believe me anyway) My baby stuffs Lincoln logs down his diaper and is currently walking around with his toilet training seat on his head. (Does that count as showing interest?)I voted today. In support of porn and alcoholic Sundays and against clean parks. (Im sorry but I just don’t have the money for clean parks. Im saving up for legends of guitar heroes III.).

As I left the precinct, I felt a distinct sense of obligation. I should be volunteering with the board of elections. Why? Because watching the current staff of volunteers manage the electronic voting booths is like watching my Dad try to program his own cell phone. Except my Dad knows better. I stood there for ten agonizing minutes watching a clearly disoriented sixty something volunteer insist that the middle voting booth was broken. I had an uncomfortable feeling that she was simply not following the prompts but thought it best to keep my mouth shut as they were already irritated with me for holding up the line as I tried to argue that I did not need my driver’s license to vote. But quicker than you can say institutionalized racism, the bevy of elderly poll ladies were gathered around the three machines. Needless to say, they had to try about two dozen really stupid solutions before they finally asked for help. When help arrived the problem was solved in less than fifteen seconds. I am not exaggerating. I mississippied the seconds.

It was one of those moments where the better person inside of me would be reflecting upon how lucky I am to live in a place where these were the biggest challenge I would face in placing my vote today. No death threats. No standing in the rain for hours on end. No gun touting pollsters. However, the better part of me did not show up until about three seconds before I wrote that last thought down. The selfish and elitist rest of me was just damn impatient and annoyed. Hell I have 389 I might as well keep going.

I gave up aspartame last week. On Thursday to be precise. My friend J sent me an article. Actually it was one of those articles I get periodically but J has the uncanny knack of being able to convince me to do almost anything from ferberizing my baby to taking a road trip to Alaska. Anyway, I started thinking maybe this would explain my inability to remember anything (like that word for moving your feet to get somewhere..crap what is it? Oh walk that’s right) (im BARELY joking) and my constant feelings of exhaustion. Ack. I hit five hundred so Im going to try to escape to my bed now. Wish me luck friends.

The (anti) dramatic conclusion

2007-11-05T09:46:00.000-05:00

Ok Luckybuzz has pointed out the sad truth about this story. I will bullet the rest of the highlights.

• The narrator sounded like Boris Karloff in Grinch who stole Christmas.
• Madame Fabu pointed this out by singing “dah hu lor ay, fah hu dor ay” (or whatever it is) when he first started talking.
• He reminded me of a soulful, black Spike .
• These two things made me like the guy a lot.
• The story was interrupted by mad 80’s rock versions of traditional Christmas songs like “hark the herald angels sing” and “joy to the world”.
• Which was very nice until the guitar players tried to get us all to stand up.
• Which was ridiculous.
• Oh and there was a guy three rows up with a really big head who caused us all to have to occasionally shift to see the stage.
• I did not mind except when the narrator was talking.
• And was also the point where Madame Fabu pointed out her obsessive annoyance with a hunchbacked man two rows in front of us who was chewing his gum like his life depended on it.
• I found the gum chewing fascinating as it went “chew…chewchew” in a steady rhythm regardless of what was going on musically.
• The gist of the story seemed to involve a guy in a bar who was getting free drinks from a fellow telling a story about an angel traveling the world looking for hope or something.
• The angel found a guy who wanted his daughter to come home for Christmas
• The angel then found the guy’s daughter who wanted to go home too but couldn’t find a star to wish upon so she wished upon a bar sign.
• Somehow, she ended up in the bar and the bartender gave her money to get home
• At the end of the story the guy getting free drinks realized that he was probably talking to the angel.
• I was faced with the sad reality that in my town you don’t get free drinks from angels and you don’t get travel money from bartenders.
• All you get is fellows offering to get you high for a blow job.
• After a huge light and rock guitar finally, the annoying david lee roth wannabe introduced the band and thought he was a lot funnier and more of a superstar than he actually was.
• I was annoyed by this and prepared to leave gratefully thinking it was a fantastic show despite the basketball thing and the stage presence of the guitar jackasses.
• Then DLR announced that the show was only half over.
• They started the second half with “Proud Mary”. Which was extremely enjoyable.
• The rest of the show was a blur of crazy melding of Handel’s Messiah and other classical music pieces with over the top 80’s rock.
• Which was incredibly overstimulating
• And my butt was numb
• And when they asked if we were having fun, our group reply was basically “ask us forty five minutes ago”
• Speaking of which, TSO also contained several leggy blond women in plunging necklines, fish net stockings and spiked leather boots.
• These women came and sang right by us on the sound board stage.
• At some point, they covered the equipment with thermal blankets
• And raised this platform and shot flames from two little chalices of fire.
• The fire was very hot.
• To the point that Madame Fabu and I were shrinking away.
• The women were hot too
• But their hotness did not make me shrink away.
• Then they went back and the two guitar players came and played on the sound board platform too.
• And sent fog which froze the hell out of us.
• We saw DLR’s face in close up. He was an old and sad looking man.
• They wanted us to stand. We did not
• Finally it was over and we got the hell out of there because they were coming out to sign autographs.
• Oh I forgot the “Keyboard dual”.
• Keyboard dual?
• Are you fucking kidding me?
• Am I just too bitter and cynical to think that was not the cheesiest thing ever?
• The keyboardists did kick ass though.
• The show was Three. Hours. Long.

In summary (too late I know), the music was awesome. The light show was great. Everyone but DLR was extremely hot. And DLR was NOT an original member which made me think I would like the show if he was not part of it. Senor bought a CD and we listened on the way home. It was really nice actually….

804 words friends! Anyway, I promise this is the end of TSO. Lonnie Manko did have a very pleasant experience up in her seat so do not be deterred if you are thinking of seeing them. Unless you are Maggie May. Because my little soul drinking buddy, I think you will have a similar response as me....

And the beat goes on.....

2007-11-04T21:57:00.000-05:00

So friends, our scene is set. We are crammed in our hemorrhoid inducing section expectantly waiting for the show to begin. Despite my circumstances, Im pretty darn excited about the fact that the row in front of us is empty. Mentally, I am thinking of subtle ways to create more space by stealthily manipulating these chairs once the concert begins. I do a quick risk assessment and see that the elaborate soundboard system approximately five feet from Gill’s seat will be a problem (consider this foreshadowing friends). Of course, as soon as the lights dim, six inconsiderate bozos trail in to take those seats (please note that when I am late and intrusive people need to be understanding and polite, but when others are late and intrusive they should defer to my comfort levels. In this case that would have entailed either standing in the back of the stadium or leaving altogether lest they ruin my comfortable viewing experience). The show begins with the announcement that the TSO will be donating the proceeds of the night to a local charity. Would you like to hear what the charity was? The local college women’s basketball team. Madame Fabu and I looked at each other completely flabbergasted. (at this point I may have fallen in love with the folks behind us who were also vocally appalled). Are you even fucking kidding me? (hey friends, the liquor was flowing freely. With the liquor comes the f word) So the women’s basketball team has a chronic or terminal disease and can’t afford to pay bills? They are dying and need a wish? Madame Fabu immediately begins listing local charities that might have been better allowing us to ask questions like do they need homes built? Do they need protection from abusive spouses? Do they need toys for their children for Christmas? ARE YOU EVEN FUCKING KIDDING ME? Ok this is a total digression (How about when I went to write digression, I wrote the word aggression instead?) and for the sake of my patient readers, I will complete the story today despite the word count issue. Anyway, I still had hopes for the show. Now bear with me friends, I am remembering from two nights ago. I believe it began with two long haired fellows doing the 80’s hair band guitar thing to alternate sides of the stadium. (You know, standing on amps, thinking they were Eddie Van Halen sort of stuff) I do like 80’s hair bands. Is this going to be an 80s hair band thing? Well ok, I can get behind that. I think. (I was wrong). I then remember lots of flashy lights and guitar posturing. Then the lights went dim and this guy began talking.

Ok friends. I just lost over five hundred additional words about our lovely story. I am tired. It is late. I am sorry. Its all gonna be anti-climactic when I finally finish this damn story....

Trans-Siberian Orchestra (part one)

2007-11-03T13:57:00.000-04:00

I am once again suspending the Sesame Street post to discuss last night’s Trans-Siberian Orchestra show, not just to honor the request of the delightfully brilliant Maggie May but also to purge the experience from me while it is still fresh. I have to admit, when the
Fabus (im linking them in case i need to for nablopomo) first mentioned that we should go to this concert, all I knew about the group was that they had some funky Christmas song that I would recognize if I heard it and the music also had a light show. Plus, my boss Lonnie Manko had expressed interest in going so we got her tickets for Boss’s Day. Needless to say, I immediately agreed to go a) because the Fabus can pretty much anything fun b) if Lonnie Manko wanted to go then it would probably be good because she has good taste and c) Im all about pretty sparkly lights. I meant to google the group before we went but of course time got away from me and I was no more prepared than I’d been the day we bought the tickets.
Last night, before the show, we took a risk on a local seafood restaurant that I’d remembered being good ten years ago but is currently suffering from rumors that it’s gone around the bend. We were pleasantly surprised to find this not to be the case at all! Despite having to face the unfortunate reality that tonic is not an acceptable substitute for diet soda which resulted in me having to embarrass myself by asking my server to top my vodka and tonic off with sprite (yeah, im twelve years old), the risk paid off and we all had high hopes for the evening. We had asked for the best available seats and had paid extra money for them. Apparently, by the time we bought our tickets, 42 bucks gets you into a crowded row of folding chairs with no pads. Our tickets were in Row D on the floor. We knew we did not get fourth row seats but we at least thought this would mean we were in the fourth row of our section. Not so much. It appears that the folks who organize the logistics of seating at our venue do not believe in breaks between sections because we seemed to be behind another entire alphabet of rows.
Now friends, you may know me here on the blog to be kind of weak and self indulgent but deep in my heart, I am a survivor. I was undaunted by the prospect of being crammed into this small space on a butt numbing folding chair for the show. (Admittedly, I was between Madame Fabu and Gill, who was on the end, which made my experience a bit more pleasant than say, Senor. Fabu’s.)(And I did look longingly at the stadium seating until Madame assured me that they had unpadded chairs as well.) I was prepared to enjoy the spectacle. We called Lonnie Manko on the cell and found her located in the stadium seats much much closer to the stage. I deliberately did not ask about her seat padding just in case Madame was lying to make me feel better. I realize Ive hit five hundred words but I still am deliberately not going to begin the show until my gentle readers less familiar with the Trans-Siberian Orchestra experience have an opportunity to go here and learn about what the show was meant to be. I want you to have that image firm in your mind when you come back tomorrow to hear about the reality of it.

Emergency Blog Post

2007-11-02T13:40:00.000-04:00

Ok Im on borrowed time here people so this one will not be 500 words. I think Im slightly allergic to nuts. have i shared that before? We went to see the Transiberian Orchestra tonight. I had no idea. I just can't do the experience justice without the five hundred words. You folks deserve that. From the david lee roth wannabe clearly living out his eighth grade fantasy to almost being set on fire. Yes friends. You deserve that.

Its November BABY

2007-11-01T10:47:00.000-04:00

My month people. Well not traditionally but damn it, sucktober is finally over. (Im sure i stole that word but it feels good and right). And friends, Im back with a vengeance. In an unprecedented melding of my two worlds (ok maybe there is a precedent for melding, but it sounds dramatic) Im going to join the ranks of my favorite blog general and rising blog star Ash and join NaBloPoMo! I solemnly pledge to post every day in November. Furthermore in order to satisfy the insane demands of my partner in procrastination Gill, I am also (while not joining nanowrimo as he ordered me to do) committing to trying to write five hundred words a day. People the blog world is ready for this. Im not sure how Im going to do it and it may come down to me posting the contents of my refrigerator or randomly turning on the tv and writing down whatever comes out of it, but damm it Im going to do it.

In case you are wondering that last sentence marked 173. Anyway I really do have a lot to share. I think. Lets see...what was I going to tell you folks...

Well sesame street is on right now so Ive got some stuff to throw out there. First, have you noticed that there is very little cross-over between the muppets in the skits and the muppets that actually inhabit sesame street. Elmo seems to be the one exception. And sometimes bigbird. (muppets on elmo's world are the exception as it seems to be the nether world between the street and the skits). Why is this? Like you never see Ernie and Bert running into Maria or Gordon. And the poor cookie monster (my true soul mate because of course, c is not just for cookie its for crse too!) is like a damn pariah. (Did anyone ever see the daily show expose about the cookie monster? its pee your pants funny) Ok so there is that.

Plus, drop the bricks casey (I have no idea what that means except my grandmother says it when something is obvious) i just finally realized that there is a direct correlation between what happens on the street and what happens in the skits. Man thats brilliant. But being 37 years old and on about my fourth incarnation of sesame street viewing before I caught that is probably not. Brilliant. (407! rock on crse!)

Finally, Ive noticed the adults can kind of be jerks. I never picked up on this before. Now Gina? The vet? She is still fresh. But we are currently watching an episode "on demand" (i heart on demand) where Bob not only ostracizes the elephant from the word game they are playing, (fluffy, s/he lives with oscar) but he is a bitch when Fluffy actually does understand the rules and follows them (and lets be honest, if I was an elephant, and some guy like bob was a dick in front of my trashcan and I had to fight to play the game, and I had a huge elephant trunk, Id be sore ass tempted to spray water all over him when he wanted a W word. Take that you ignorant motherfucker). (537!!!!)

Ok I hit the goal for today so you will have to wait til tomorrow to hear about how Maria brings my mother issues to the surface.
Post script to be deleted soon Im backdating this to win prizes. Dont tell anyone.

its not the wii i swear

2007-10-30T07:40:00.000-04:00

I have been lost in my own confusion. Yet I have so much to tell you all. Ive been doing more analysis of sesame street, so i have that to share. Also, I wanted to toss out some neighborhood etiquette questions. Halloween stories and yes, we went back to church! (and I even joined Lucy's membership/hospitality committee!) (have I mentioned how dropping the phrase "going to church" into my conversation continues to tickle the hell out of me). Are you intrigued? Titillated? Anyway, I promise Ive got a date with myself tomorrow night to sit down with a bowl of Turnip's candy and settle in to catch up on my blogs. Ive missed you folks. And I swear the lapse is temporary.

A quickie (please don't feel cheap...unless you like it that way!)

2007-10-25T07:53:00.000-04:00

Friends, I said I was never gonna be that mom. I would never buy into the holiday hype and go on a rampage for a cabbage patch/sleep and smack ernie/nintendo game box. I would be a reasonable parent who explained in advance that the toy could be there in January so there would be no disappointments. We would have wonderful children who were pleased with themselves not to be sucked into the blatant consumerism of christmas. HA. Then came...Baby Alive. "But Crse," you say. "I know you are into non-gendered stereotyping for the children but was Norm that desperate for a Baby Alive?" No friends, no he wasnt. But Princess Fabu, she was a different story. As I watched my very own Madame (and senor and mother fabu for that matter!) Fabu stalk three counties for a Baby Alive after the Princess decided late in the season that she would ask Santa for one, I saw the inevitable future. Looking at her sweet little princess face when she discussed how she was getting one with confidence was enough to convince me not only that I would beg borrow and steal to make sure that I was not responsible for crushing that look off my own child's face, but also that I would indeed get up with a raging hang-over and drive for three hours (estimated but damm it was a hang over) to loyally shop beside my friend to ensure that look remained on the princess's face as well. Why do i tell you this story? Well friends, because we bought a wii. Yes it is only October. I have been sick about making sure we get a wii since august. (Madame has been keeping me motivated with the "remember Baby Alive" mantra.) Yesterday, in one of our "mysteries of marriage" conversations, (where i think "wait? how come you dont know that gill? dont you read my brain at night?") I share my insecurity about this with gill. He responds with complete surprise. "Crse, you can walk in anywhere and buy a wii!". What? WHAT? WHAT??? I thought there was some sort of shortage where there were lotteries and such. Apparently not! So needless to say, I decided to say once again, screw the house payment, and now we have wii. And friends, it shouldn't make me feel better but it does. Dammit, it does. Ok I have way more but I want to get a shower before the turnip wakes up. (reminder, post about kindergarten breakthrough, collective work bitterness, and turnip issues!) ok friends, im sorely behind on blogs but i look forward to catching up!

Im back...sort of..

2007-10-24T10:18:00.000-04:00

Sorry for the absence folks, didnt mean to alarm anyone! Im just now recovering from being sick and twisted literally (figuratively of course I still am). Ill be back with reports about my kindergarten breakthrough and the adventures of Madame Fabu's mad and bitter weekend. (It stemmed from her week. Policy prevents her from sharing too much with me in terms of work difficulties, but I know its been a bad week when she spends saturday morning yelling "Fuck you, I know you are lying" at Paula Deen and the Barefoot Contessa.) Hope you folks are all well!

GO TEAM BALLISTIC!

2007-10-18T09:08:00.000-04:00

Ill say it hard and Ill say it loud.
We took last place but are unreasonably proud!

Here is why I love kickball. You can do something really stupid but good things might happen like while the other team was trying to make a spectacle out of getting you out, your team-mate who is actually fast and good can score a run and people are still very excited for you! Friends, Ive been waiting my whole life for something like this to happen.

RT friends remind me if im mistaken, but I dont really remember Norm constantly challenging himself to find new and different ways to create messes, destroy property and physically endanger himself and others. Ok what is the positive here? The turnip is not a behavior problem waiting to happen. He is just....goal driven. Go turnip.

OMG! On a completely different note the turnip just linked together the words poop and ma butt! There was babble in between but judging from the stink, I think he is developing the ability to elaborate on his communication. Go turnip. Again.

Ok stay tuned as i bitch myself to gretty and hold on to my tuesday twelve til hers as done. In the meantime, Ill try to get my little photo essay of last night with gretty. Ive entitled it "A designated driver in decline".

oh there's a tuesday twelve a comin'

2007-10-16T07:12:00.000-04:00

But it aint here yet. Instead? You guessed it. Stars devoid of theme.

* My right palm has been getting very itchy for the past three nights when I go to bed. Like flesh tearingly itchy. But without any rash. Gill thinks Im coming into some money. I think Gill is insane and that I am having some allergic reaction to something by my bed.

* Have you ever been in a situation where you need to make someone who doesnt like you or believe in what you do cooperate with you? Well, thats basically my job. I dont mind it but Im realizing more and more that when my efforts result in making said person like me, I become kind of depressed and slightly horrified. Its like accidentally being too friendly to the creepiest kid in school and finding that they glommed on to you. Except instead of subtly but firmly brushing the person off, you have to keep being friendly. And at the end of the day, after they've looked down your shirt (with your consent) a few times, you just feel kind of....gross.

*Tomorrow is the last game of the kickball season. We did not make play offs. But we found out that we are not at the bottom. We are actually in a three way tie for last place. If we win tomorrow that jumps us up the board like crazy (but we still will not make play offs)

* Have I mentioned lately how much I love Dexter (not the laboratory but the serial killer)? My only complaint is that his sister continues to over cuss. It sounds stupid. Im all about cussing but it has to flow. Her cussing doesnt flow. I dont blame the actress. Its written that way.

* Gret has helped me come to the realization that im possibly overmedicated right now. It would explain why when my shrink upped my adderall to 60mgs from 50 I completely fell apart organizationally. I see him on thursday. My therapist wants me to go medieval on his ass. I just might.

* Well that provided a perfect segue (yes for you Moe because it will NEVER get old!) into my therapeutic breakthrough this evening! (its a story so im not starring paragraphs) I was sharing some frustration with different areas in my life and relating my surprise at both my strong reactions to these frustrations and how right these strong reactions felt for me. We were discussing the difference between these reactions and those irrational "omg my meds clearly need adjusted" moments. I was sharing my fear that I may have evolved into a complete jerk and just dont care anymore. My therapist said one sentence and it was like the fog lifted. "You arent being heard".

Friends, I thought Id been struck by lightening but in a good way. It explained why i keep thinking that the world would be a better place if people just LISTENED to me. DAMN RIGHT IM NOT BEING HEARD!!! It was so obvious because I was so clearly not being heard in either of the areas Id identified to her and had actually mentioned this to people who cared enough to listen to me but I didnt link it to my strong frustration. I even began an email addressing some frustrations to my friend the other day and one of my first lines was "thank you so much for hearing me". Yet i still didnt realize any connection. My first reaction was "ok so why do i need to get heard so badly? what deficit is this in me?" and then she throws me ANOTHER curve ball! She says its NORMAL and NECESSARY to make yourself heard. Im not going to bog the blog down with lengthy explanations as to why this is novel to me but Ill tell you, Im kind of pumped up about it! We didnt get to the part where she told me how to manage it so we will all be waiting two more weeks to find out. I do see this as a new stage in Operation Kiss My Ass and Im excited!

Stay Tuned for Gretty's tuesday twelve. Twelve songs that make me feel happy!

A dream and some random crap

2007-10-14T22:21:00.000-04:00

So if you add up all the time Ive spent in classrooms in my life, I believe that my first four years and a few gappy years in my twenties were my only non-school years. So at the very least, Ive spent about 30 years in classroom settings. Having said that, I find it extremely odd that when I dream about classrooms involving my current job, the setting is always a very specific classroom that Ive never actually seen in life. Ive dreamt about this classroom four or five times and its always the same damn classroom. Last night, the dream involved me creating a situation where I needed to walk about fifteen miles from the classroom to my office. At the end of the dream, after I made friends with a kindly bus driver who cut several miles off the walk by letting me ride with her elementary school kids, I realized I could have driven the whole time. Im sure its symbolic somehow. I just don't know how.

* We have a new bank. I like the fact that it appears to be user friendly. However, it is uglier than the old bank. Im finding the ugliness outweighs a lot of the joy im getting out of the new found efficiency.

* I think I really like Bill Richardson. It makes me sad that he totally has no chance of winning.

* In a related note, just because Al Gore won the Nobel Prize does not mean he has a chance if he ran for president. Interestingly, I read a great article in Vanity Fair talking about how the Clinton Gore relationship failed in 2000 because of Hilary's run for senate. Sources say that had Bill been more supportive of Al, he would have won the election hands down (oh wait, he did...). Still, the moment is gone.

* We watched Fast Food Nation yesterday. I wish I could tell you folks that I was disgusted and would never eat fast food again. It was kind of gross, but its not like I thought I was eating corn fed Angus that had spent many happy years wandering the pastures and died a sweet peaceful death with its calves surrounding it. I am still buying happy chicken eggs and I havent actually bought beef for our home in quite some time. Thats a lie. I just bought frozen hamburgers from sam's club. Damn. Its so easy to forget. Ive got to become a better person.

Tuesday Twelve

2007-10-09T20:03:00.000-04:00

Because Im way behind on the tts, and because its probably not all that effective to deal with the last three hours of baby tantrum by screaming in the same high pitched tone back in the turnip's face or offering up phrases like " "Melmo hates mean babies" and "Shut your DAMM pIIIIEEEE holllle". And also because Norm responded to my warning that im a woman on the edge with "no you arent, you are a woman with your straight eyes open" Im clearly in need of a smile list.

Twelve things that make me smile:

1. Screaming "Shut yer damm pie hole" at my two year old.

2. Having my five year old jump in and scream it with me. (ok this isnt my "how am i mother of the year" list so back off)

3. The season premiere of "The Office".

4. Premium Cable On Demand. Who thought of this? Because it is FUCKING BRILLIANT.

5. Avoiding a Chuck E. Cheese birthday party only to have gill share the conversation he walked into between my friend T and someone else as he arrived at the party:
T: How come all the husbands get out of these things? (notices gill approaching) I see the husband in your relationship got out of it too.

(T, if you are reading this I SWEAR I was legitimately falling asleep mid conversation)

6. Norm just now approaching me shyly, in dead seriousness, and asking in the most conversational tone, "Can I smell your armpits?"

7. Being able to scream the lyrics to "I think I love you" by the partridge family at the top of my lungs in my car after finding a lost mix cd.

8. Lindsay Lohan finally committing to sobriety. I pray for that girl every day. (ok that statement was for my own amusement)

9. The turnip counting to 20:
....un....feee...feee...feee....nine..nine...nine...fee..eight.. un...un...un...eighteen... eighteen... eighteen... eighteen... fee... fee... fee ...TEET!!! (this is counting along with sesame street)

10. Mentally creating a thursday thirteen list of all the things I hate about zoe monster from sesame street.

11. A possible light at the end of the tunnel of my double job. (I cant say anymore for fear of jinxing myself).

12. Why does this man have a small faux votive candle on his head? Stories soon to follow.

Ben 10

2007-10-06T11:07:00.000-04:00

is the coolest cartoon EVER. Today it is anyway. Except for foster's. Oh and justice league unlimited. Random stars Random stars

*Dateline-Saturday October 6. 1108am. Living room. Captain and crew are watching A BRAND NEW CODE LYOKO! I capitalize it because the preferred way to discuss the show is not to just call it by name but to sing A BRAND NEW CODE LYOKO! every time you mention it. You must do this until your five year old bursts out into screams telling you he cant take it anymore.

* So, Ive got more cleavage data to share. Back at the middle school (workplace of the guidance counselor looky lou, I think we will call him SHAZAM) V-neck. Not too low. Talking with ( probably more attractive than I) friend in crew top. Shazam ignored hot crew top friend. Had a jokey conversation with my chest. I really want to seriously commit to a long term analysis of this ("Examining The Correlation Between Low Cut Tops and Achieved Clinical Outcomes at the Middle School. A Longitudinal Study") but I have a kid in crisis there now so the girls have to attend everything for the next few weeks.

* I had my heart break in a million pieces yesterday. A million pieces. (everyone is ok physically) The thing I hate the most is when everybody in a dynamic is someone i love or like and hurting still happens.

*I also hate it when someone tells me something extremely shocking and painful about their past, and I am not shocked. Because Ive wallowed in similar swamps of dysfunction before. Alone and with others. I hate being familiar with so much depravity.

* The past two items are unrelated.

* I meant to search my archives to find out how many times Ive actually posted about what a BAD IDEA it is to take my tired children shopping at night. Especially when my adderall is wearing down and my ADD is full force. I dont actually have words to describe last night's visit to target, but ill try.

-Turnip: Scream. Climb.
-Norm: Have to go to the bathroom.
- Both children: (INEXPLICABLE DEAD SILENCE AND PERFECT BEHAVIOR IN BATHROOM)
- Turnip: Scream.
- Norm: "can we get my pokemon cards now?"
-Turnip: Cry. Smack
- Me: Struggle to pin climbing child down in cart.
- Turnip: Scream.
-Norm: can we get my pokemon cards now?"
-Turnip: Climb. Grab at merchandise.
-Norm: "can we get my pokemon cards now?"
-Turnip: Scream.
-Me: Carry child while pushing cart. (ADD kicks in here).

Two walking children. Two hiding under racks children. One child back in cart Scream. Cry. One child firmly chastised for modeling dangerous behavior to his lttle brother.

-Norm: Have to go to the bathroom again. (INEXPLICABLE DEAD SILENCE AND PERFECT BEHAVIOR IN BATHROOM)
-Turnip: Scream. Cry. CLimb.
-Me: Pin down child in cart.

It went on. And on. And on. Children walked and rode and screamed and cried. And pokemon cards were gotten despite hiding in racks due to extremely redeemable and helpful five year old recovery behavior. And much outward apologizing and explaining to onlookers and store staff that I now realize this was a really bad idea. And much inward rage and resentment and desire to scream "OH? You think he's tired? Well thank you OBI FUCKING WAN KENOBI! I thought the crack pipe i let him smoke when he came back from pimping his bad little diapered ass for me would keep him awake!" or "No jackass, he does NOT need a smack on the ass. If he was five, he might need one but he is TWO and it his PAST HIS BEDTIME and as you can see, despite the little mishap in the clothes racks the five year old also does not need smacked. But you do motherfucker!" or "Here is why i dont just take that poor baby home. He is part of a neo-Nazi clinical trial run by a high ranking German official who is disguised as a gerbil and lives in my dining room. We are doing an over stimulus sleep deprivation test on this child and ask that you do not interfere. I will express your concerns to Herr Goebells. But he will probably have you killed for it".

I think i need some sort of 12 step program where i am not allowed to take them both somewhere alone until I call someone to talk me down. Gill clearly enables this although he did suggest I leave turnip home. "But he misses me! He will just cry!" Im such a fucking idiot. Anyway, thats enough for now.

* I will sign off with the possibility that I may just be on blogtalk radio tonight. Madame Fabu and I will be riding home from a wedding drunk off our asses. Nothing better than a group drunk dial from the road!

Because I was not a mass of depressive need before today....

2007-10-03T19:15:00.001-04:00

(no im kidding. I was. I have been all week)

But without trying to sound desperate or pathetic, Im joining the ranks of half my blogroll and calling out delurkers! If you read and don't comment or havent commented in a while or even just want to pretend to be someone else to make me feel better, today is the day friends. Today is the day.

WTFIIO Wednesday?

2007-10-03T07:07:00.000-04:00

In place of the WTF wed, Im offering the why the fuck is it only wednesday post. You know, im not going to apologize for bullets or stars anymore. Unless there is a story, why would i put it in paragraph form. I embrace the random lists of crap friends. Go me.

* The PTO meeting resulted in me volunteering for some community advisory council. For about ten minutes I was excited that Id be able to use my expertise to make a difference in Norm's school. That illusion was quickly shattered as it became more and more clear that the fact that I own a laminator outshines any clinical value id have in an advisorial position.

* Friends, I know I disobey rules of grammar and do not proof-read, so this claim may not ring true for some but the truth of the matter is...Im kind of smart. Like nerd smart. Im bringing this up because I found out that I was in grad school with the actual clinical advisor. Friends, I say this without judgment. She is really not bright at all. In fact when I think of the intelligence scales the phrase (my favorite phrase in fact) dull normal comes to mind. Plus she is mean. Mean and dumb. Im half dreading working with her and half looking forward to the chance to be smarter than her in a group setting. I realize thats not very nice. But she really isnt very nice either. And my ego needs this. The fifth graders are taking me for granted these days....

* Speaking of which, you know the work day was pretty much a complete waste of what could have been an eight hour nap when the most therapeutic moment of your day involved the sentence "you aren't the boss of the marshmallows." And you are the one saying it.

* It did not get better. I went to a meeting after school with my team and a teacher. It started normally enough as we followed the teacher back to her classroom. She was a bit odd looking, extremely thin with long crunchy looking dyed blond hair. And a face that had to have seen better days. Still, if this job has taught me anything, its that there are a lot of odd looking people out there. So nothing was amiss. Yet. This is going to require another star.

* As we walk into her classroom, the first thing we notice is a GIANT hourglass on her desk. Not an egg timer. An hourglass. You know, like the one the wicked witch of the west times Dorothy's demise with? And friends, it was trickling. Then as we started talking, it immediately became clear that the teacher had some sort of verbal tic. Every sentence seemed to involve a hiccup and ended with her using a tone about an octave higher. Now friends, im a compassionate person. I really am. But just as my faithful readers will remember, I have issues with missing body parts, I struggle equally with situations such as this one. I really wanted to a)try not to ask questions so she wouldnt have to use sentences b) somehow stop the meeting and do a stress reducing exercise in case the tic was stress related and of course c) laugh. Thankfully I didnt do anything like this. My friend Andy is part of the team and she was with me. I was terrified to make eye contact with her lest we spontaneously burst into chimpanzee like laughter or at the very least, mortified giggles. It truly was mortifying. I feel like I should break this into more stars.

* The situation was not helped by the fact that she really had zero interest in talking to us and practically threw us out of her room. Ok this feels starred wrong. I apologize.

Ill stop now. I need a smile list.

The week in summary

2007-10-02T06:47:00.000-04:00

I realize its tuesday and i will do my things to be happy about tuesday twelve when Gret does. Or before. Or after. Anyway here is my week in review (but not in any particular order)

* Wednesday was a grumpy day for both the perfect storm and me. We were both tired from the day out on tuesday and I was getting more and more bitter every time she bragged about making the pretzel. Hey PS! You sucked ok? Just accept it.

* Wednesday afternoon proved my theory about the correlation between my cleavage exposure and cooperation from the one guidance counselor. I didnt particularly need anything so I went crew neck. What I did not expect was for him to be a total prick throughout the whole meeting. It looks like Im going to have to get the girls back over there soon so he doesnt fuck up the rest of the year.

*Kickball was cancelled Wednesday night. I wasnt sorry because I was REALLY tired.

* Thursday was ok. There were a few dark moments like sitting in the Gulag house while the amazon mom was on the phone. She had a pair of toe nail clippers right there and friends, Ive never in my life felt so compelled to clip my toenails in my life. It was the strangest thing! All I could think of was taking off my shoes and clipping my toenails. It got better after she got off the phone but it really never subsided until I left. I never want to go to that place in my mind again friends.

* Thursday evening's supervision almost ended in a fist fight. instigated by me. because after arguing with someone for the better part of an hour throughout group, i had the realization she was not going to listen. which would have been fine if i wasnt fairly certain she was going to ignore my directive to keep her mouth shut to families and go about spreading misinformation. If this seemed confusing, let me sum up with this phrase JENNY MCARTHY IS NOT AN EXPERT ON AUTISM. It doesnt MATTER that she was on Larry King. SHE IS NOT AN EXPERT.

* Fortunately thursday ended well with two surprises. The first was a phone call from Norm saying I got my package. Guess what? My Rockdog stein came in the mail! Ill have pictures as soon as i can find my camera. Thanks RD. I feel commemorated.

* The second surprise was a lovely party hosted by my very good friend sega. It was one of those food parties. (And sorry lucy, i booked. Its sega's SISTER! She is really nice. Not like phyllis at all. And I promise vodka slushies). I realize this shouldnt have been a surprise but I kept forgetting about it so everytime madame fabu reminded me it was like finding out I had something fun to do all over again.

* I forgot. The third surprise was some home-made wine at the party from my other friend, Shakes. Apparently her father makes wine. I was particularly fond of the green apple!

* Friday morning wasnt great. I fucked up end of the month stuff and it took way longer than it should have so I missed my fifth grade party. The good part was i got there right when the sheep died in "Babe" (they watched a movie) so it went pretty fast.

* It got significantly better after I was done at school. I arrived at the office to find that Shakes had left me a bottle of green apple wine! Delightful friends. Just delightful.

* I then got to spend the evening first having dinner with Gretty (who gave us a gerbil) then drinks (and drinks) and bread with my darlin' Feather. It was much needed soul time all around and it also just tickles my spirit that Feather pronounces gerbil with a hard G which makes me think of Goebells. I dont know why that pleases me. It does though.

* Saturday. Ill sum up our saturday morning.(norm is angry and bitter. I am firm but whiny.)
Norm: I hate soccer.
Me: I hate soccer too but we still have to go.
Norm: Why? Its not fair.
Me: Because we made a commitment and im afraid of uncle-coaches wrath.
Norm: Whats a commitment
Me: Remember when i said you couldnt quit if you hated soccer when we signed up? That was a commitment
Norm: Why did you let me do that? Its all your fault.
Me: You said you wanted to play. It doesnt matter now because we are stuck until the end of the season and then we never have to do this again.
Norm: I hate soccer.
Me: Me too.

I think I will stop there. Saturday and Sunday were relatively uneventful. I took the kids to my brother's for the weekend, leaving gill to his own devices. He appeared to be intact and the house was somewhat better than when we left, so im guessing it went good for him too. Yesterday? The PTO meeting? Well...thats best left for the next post.....

A tag

2007-10-01T00:52:00.000-04:00

Ok folks,
Im wayyyyy behind. End of month + out of town + whiny whiny baby= lack of sleep. And Im going back to bed after this. Im planning a week in summary post but first, I answer this tag from Bunny. Here is my desk top. It is available for a limited time only. I will not identify those in the picture but know they are well-loved family here at chez panflutemaster. And this is my current all time favorite picture. And the turnip is not wearing an ascot, its a hair band. And a harry potter shirt. Which of my regular readers can guess where he got the harry potter shirt? Anyway, there are a lot of icons because even my desktop is disorganized.

I tag my blogroll.
Besides Bunny.
And zig. Who she already tagged.

Edited to add: not sure why the picture is so small. I cant figure out how to make it larger. Click on and its a bit bigger....

My newest credential

2007-09-26T07:57:00.000-04:00

As well you can imagine, im quite proud. My pride is only slightly lessened by the fact that the little kid with me also got a certificate and her pretzel was a piece of shit. After I got over the bitterness that she skated right into the title , I realized, my work will speak for itself.

It is sunday and my head hurts (a possible live blog?)

2007-09-23T12:23:00.000-04:00

It is 1230. Ive been up for a few hours and i have a headache. Sadly it is not hangover related so i cant even say that at least it came with a good time. Im embarrassed to resort to this again so soon, but its random stars of crap again friends.

* Im going on record as saying that I. LOVE. MY. NEW. CABLE. and that the ability to access premuim channels on demand is one of those creations that ranks up there with sliced bread and penicillin.Ive managed to watch the entire first season of "Flight of the Conchords", a lot of "Curb your Enthusiasm" and am starting to watch "dexter". Here is the thing about dexter. When it came out, I was TOTALLY intrigued by the idea of it, but the first episode was somewhat....lackluster. On the plus side, dexter is hot and i love the crime stuff. On the other side, the side stories seem completely contrived. Like his sister is supposed to be this tough talking vice cop. Which means that she says "hell" and "fuck" in a forced way throughout normal conversation. Ok. I get it now. Im going to keep watching before I decide because im never keen on pilots.

* Ive been up for two and a half hours. So far my day consisted of catching up on blogs, eating a power bar, a banana and some garlic pita chips, discovering we are completely out of sweet n low, and watching a lot of television. Gills day has involved some serious cleaning. He randomly comes in to shame me. I laugh obligingly with self-deprecation. It works because we are both happy.

* The reason im not being brow beaten into helping is because Im supposed to be writing many many notes. Which I am going to do. Realy soon.

Three. Now I have three stars. Maybe i will come back and add more stars soon-

Fifth Grade: It aint for the weak or simple.

2007-09-21T07:06:00.000-04:00

Well maybe the simple....Here are some things I love and hate about the fifth grade:

THINGS I HATE: Start here first so I can end on a positive note

* Its always the SAME FREAKING PEOPLE. Every. Single. Day. In other words, fifth grade triggers the worst symptoms of my ADD.

* Im not allowed to raise my hand and give the answers which sucks because Im so clearly able to dust these little mo-fos academically.

* Lunch sucks. The coating of chicken nuggets should never ever come off in your mouth like that. I felt....violated.

* The lunch ladies are always yelling at us.

* There is this stupid "healthy kids" policy that means they do not sell any more treats in the cafeteria. The snacks they sell are ok but not nearly as good as they were.

* The building is devoid of cute guys. From the principal to the janitor, our range is from unattractive to slightly above average (with personality being a boosting factor).

* Its too freaking early. And too many days in a row.

* Gym is twice a week. WTF.

* There is no appropriate adult response to comments like these "I want to grow up to be the Mexican guy who sells sunglasses out of his truck". This is complicated by the fact that not only can I not laugh but the child is dead serious.

THINGS I LOVE:or at least really like

* The day goes pretty fast

* All my teachers are really nice.

* I have a BFF who eats lunch with us every day. She is adorable. She reminds me of a much cuter fifth grade version of myself. She is slightly more socially adept than Perfect Storm which is great for us therapeutically.

* I. FUCKING. RULE. THE FIFTH GRADE KICKBALL GAME. (Oh yeah i said fucking. Thats how good i am)(I swear this is also therapeutic! we started because PS has a crush on the teacher who pitches and this would be the first time in her history )

* Fifth grade boys are surprisingly sweet and gentlemanly. Its refreshing to be with pre-teens who have not had the humanity beaten out of them yet.

* This could be attributed to the fact that the gym teacher is REALLY NICE! He is a little bit of a freak and randomly goes on religious rants when he is speaking to the adults in the room, but he is the only gym teacher Ive ever liked in my whole life.

* Im saving a lot of lunch money since I can't leave the school and I now pack. Kind of.

* In all serious, the perfect storm is doing amazingly well and if i may be bold, I think her success is somewhat due to me being there.

* Did I mention I rule the kickball field?

Ok if that is not enough to end on a high note, I will end with this quote from the littlest fabu as told to the Madame on their way to daycare yesterday.

"Mommy, George is my boyfriend. He can't talk and isn't shaped like a boy but I love him." (George being my dog)

Tuesday twelve

2007-09-19T06:36:00.000-04:00

Ok read the post below first, so you can end on a high note.....done? Onward to the Tuesday Twelve (and my apologies to Gretty for being such a bad stalker and posting it on Wed!) But first my apologies for lack of comments lately. I have a lot of them saved up. Its the damn google reader! Oh and confidential to Mert? Your blog is still shutting down. I tried to subscribe to your comments but it only takes me back to a post from january. Pippa? Yours is stalling too! Just wanted to let you know!

Twelve things that make me smile.

1. Finally channelling my power to kick the ball (or "tattoo" it, as one of my team-mates says!) just in time for what i consider to be our grudge match.
2. Finishing what i consider to be the "ultimate packet" only to have the school postpone a meeting which means Im now PREPARED IN ADVANCE!
3. Having Norm validate that the lady who non-verbally scorns me every day when we are borderline tardy is indeed "yelly".
4. Finding a new sitter that can ease Gretty's overtime burden during her two weeks of transition to the world of grown ups.
5. PREMIUM CABLE (madame fabu, i adore you)
6. Rocking the fifth grade kickball field. Hell yeah.
7. Overtime pay.
8. "Birdie maman!(im so tickled with his french at age two!) Its Birdie (big bird) Birdie (Ernie) and Bert. And melmo. Its Melmo!"
9. The most fabulous kindergarten smile in the world.
10. Taking pride in being married to the only curly mustached man at the open house, only to be overshadowed by a man showing up late in a black cossack. It was like being beaten by a gold medalist.
11. Having to explain to an 11 year old that she was caught on video tape punching another kid. Four times. (This makes me giggle. I dont know why)
12. The politics of kickball turning out way better than I even imagined! Go (it kills me to say it) Ballistics!

First a story, then Tuesday 12.

2007-09-19T06:24:00.000-04:00

My favorite guilty pleasure Xavier Onassis has been posting lately about the death of a fellow blogger. I never read the guy myself but I know a few of you not only read him but posted tributes of your own. Also, my friend T experienced a loss with extremely tragic circumstances (not that all death is not somewhat tragic, but this one is particularly heartbreaking) a few days ago. Anyway, XO wrote something about what does one say in a situation like this. It reminded me of one of the anecdotes a prof in grad school used to exemplify the process of joining during grief.

The mom of a third grader got a phone call from her daughter's friend's mother one afternoon. Turns out her daughter's friend had recently lost her father and the call was to let the mom know that her little girl had been an incredibly support to her bereaved friend. The widow expressed her gratitude and amazement of the compassion of the 8 year old. After the call, the first mom was curious about whatever words of wisdom her daughter had offered the little girl so she asked her.

The little girl thought a minute and then replied. "Well she was so sad. And I didnt know what to say to make her feel any better. So I just sat down and cried with her." And friends, sometimes thats all you can do....

Im not sorry

2007-09-16T13:22:00.000-04:00

Id like to be but damm people. I am busy trying to replace Gretty (did I tell you she is moving on? Its a good thing for her and I will cope as long as we still have mandatory visits and she accepts i might need to call her more often). The Perfect Storm situation is still brewing and well... Norm's kindergarten is dominating my life much more than i thought it would. SO Id like to be sorry for being so far behind but damn it people what do you expect from me! Ok Its gonna be a RBOC. Im actually ripping off my newfound stalkee The Delightful Adjunct Whore and using stars. Well because they are pretty.

*It is 1:30 pm on Sunday. I have kickball at 6. I need to go grocery shopping. I have three behavior plans to write, one using a format I have NO FREAKING CLUE how to work within by tomorrow morning. I have not started. I did however catch up on blogs. Go me.

* Im hating Norm's kindergarten more and more. His actual teacher rocks but the principal is clearly migrating over towards dickville in my cognitive map of elementary administration. Also the lunch lady who I thought was nice, may actually be somewhat passive aggressive. Plus Norm told me that his afternoon teacher is kind of mean. Which means she is probably the kind of person who gets grumpy with kids and acts annoyed a lot. Now friends, I interrupt to ask for advice. I have raised the kids to respect adults. At the same time, Ive raised them to believe that NOBODY has the right to take a bad mood or grumpiness out on you through tone and/or words and actions. As an adult, I find this unacceptable and I want to raise the kids to find it unacceptable too. When we are grumpy at home we try to apologize. (we are better apologizing to Norm and Turnip than to each other but we've both been in time outs because of it and own it when it happens)I dont want him to accept this behavior or think its ok. What does one do with that? I would tell him to suck it up but dammit, why should I? Its not his! And its tainting his kindergarten experience!

*On that note, I want to thank you all for your support during the 9/11 aftermath here at chez panflutemaster. I feel awful because I think it sounded more intense than it was. Norm does typically have weird scary things going on his mind. I blame gill for overexposing him to stuff. Its not that unusual. And although its frustrating that they did this, it also kind of gives me my first little valid complaint about school which makes me happy. I do think Im going to say something next year about warning parents in advance about what was said. They probably wont listen and i can be bitterly gleeful or gleefully bitter. Anyway, you guys rock.

* Also making me happy is that we got to spend bonus time this weekend with our beautiful birthday girl (as of friday) Auntie Feather. She just makes me damn happy thats all.

* And we ate some kickass lasagne with the fabuwomen for Princess's birthday (her party is next saturday). Plus I got two very cool zach efron rings from her cupcakes. I make them talk to each other about how much they love me and how much they liked it when i licked frosting off them.

* Ok this was completely irrelevant but i need to work on plans before kickball. THere are some political complications im going to need to address im afraid. I feel a little sick....

A Day of Remembrance: Norm Style

2007-09-12T01:28:00.000-04:00

So, I called Norm after school today and grilled him about his day as is our routine. He told me about lunch and the procuring of some hashbrowns as snack. He talked about drawing a branch for brown day. Then, he proceeded to tell me why today was such a "special day". He then described how "a long lot of years ago some bad guys crashed into some skyscrapers and some big tall buidings with their planes and lots and lots of people died. People on planes died and lots of other people died too." Oh? When did you hear about this buddy? "When we first got to school we had to be quiet. Because they died and its very sad." Was your teacher talking about it? "No just the principal. When we first got there because it happened when we got there." (Did I miss the fucking "prep your five year old for 9/11 reality check?" Nope. Double checked. No memo.) And what did you think about this buddy? "Well. It kind of freaked me out. Did you know people that died mommy?" WEll no buddy. It happened very far away. "Well if all those people died how come you didnt know nobody" (I relate a few stories about people we know and care about losing loved ones in 9/11)"Hmmmm...Ill bet their mommies are dead too. And there daddies are dead. Right mom?" Well not necessarily buddy. Lots of people were grown ups who didnt live with their mommies and daddies. (Mentally I am psyching myself up into professional calm reasonable crse for my next call which is to the principal asking for a debriefing on what was said and offering my sincerest thank you for opening this little metaphysical can of worms as a surprise for our family. Is this your idea of the welcome wagon?) Norm then begins to list all the death he knows about personally, from my grandmother to every last goldfish. We talk. We reflect. We mourn greenie and spottie together.

We end the conversation because he's finished a popsicle or had some other pressing matter. I immediately call the school. I try my best to explain the situation to the secretary. She is extremely kind. She knows Norm and tries to find me someone who can help me figure out what the hell was said. I end up talking to the lunch lady. (I kid you not). (She, too, was extremely nice) I politely explain again what had just transpired with Norm and ask if she can tell me what exactly was said. Apparently, she helps herd children into the gym when they arrive at school and this is where the speech occurred. She explained that it was "patriot day" and the principal was explaining why the kids were encouraged to wear red, white, and blue. "But wait...we didnt hear anything about that..." I say. Ah...thats because it was brown day in kindergarten she explains. (Ok so you dont include them in the red, white and blue dress because you dont want to interrupt brown day for the little ones. I see. And was that decision made in the same conversation where the inclusion of a description of the massive loss of human life through an act of evil would be a good idea for the five year olds? Red white and blue...hmmm no lets not confuse them by veering off brown day. Much better to let them struggle with their first realization that the world is a cold and bitter place completely devoid of justice. Well because that wont involve new memos about color week.) Lunch Lady then confidently reassures me that the talk was not graphic and their was nothing about planes crashing or anything. It was so awkward to mention to my new friend that in fact the words "planes crashing into buildings" actually came out of my five year olds mouth. She apologizes saying that it was hard to focus because of the herding of the children.

Friends, let me interject that this was no "Operation Kiss my Ass" endeavor. I felt so bad that I was putting this sweet lunch lady in an awkward position. I then try to explain that Im only calling because it was a topic not yet introduced in the home and I really didnt want to confuse my son any more than he already appeared to be. Which led me to the next question. Friends, let me ask you this. How does one politely ask if a school speech included any mention of hope for the future or spiritual comfort? It sounds so condescending to even ask such a thing. My reason for wanting to know this is because if the speech was meant to be as stark as it sounded to impress the importance of the day, I did not want to offer some sort of comfort that the principal had already shot down as a platitude. (What kind of grown up shoots down spiritual platitudes to a five year old? Oh wait. See above.) Also, was the concept of terrorism discussed? Obviously he couldnt have said "its ok, we caught the bad guys" because the bad guy released a tape last friday. My new friend didn't really have an answer. She gave me a few suggestions for exploring the topic with Norm. I was graciously grateful. Apologized for bothering. Thanking for understanding. Etc. Etc. Finally, she explains that the principal left for a meeting which is why I was talking to her. More apologies. More gratitude. I hang up and call Madame Fabu. Am I crazy or what the fuck just happened? We share different school stories from today involving the princess, norm, the perfect storm as well as other bizarro situations that had happened over the past eight hours. She reassures me. Im thinking ok we let this pass and see what happens.

Later that night, Norm starts a conversation while playing with his new matchbox set. "People are robbing banks somewhere in the world right now arent they mommy?" Well yes buddy, but people are helping people out there too. You need to remember that. Are you still feeling freaked out about today buddy, or are things ok for you? "Well...Im just feeling a little little bit freaked out still. (Not a lot of little bit, a little little bit)But thats ok. Because its a sad day and we got to be quiet." It is a sad day buddy. We talk about all the people that helped out in the aftermath and talked about heroes until he interjects accusingly. "Mommy, how come you never told me about this day before?" (allowing myself a mental burst of derisive laughter) Well buddy its a very hard thing that happened and its hard to understand and we wanted to wait til you were a little older. Soon after, in the kitchen "I think we should make a cake for the people that died mommy. You know, because its such a sad day" Hmmm...cakes are always a nice expression of the hopeless void of an illogical and unjust universe. Why not? "Oh never mind mommy. Lets make the cake another day. Sponge Bob is on" Almost immediately afterward, in an alarmed yet sort of calm tone "Mom, I just felt grammy's spirit. Can we talk to her?" Sure buddy. "Um Grammy? I miss you a very lot. And Um well...Im a little bit scared right now so maybe you could go away for a little bit. But um...you dont have to. You can stay because Im glad you are here". He looks at me for reassurance. I just say "we miss you grammy and we love you and you would be very proud of norm because he is a wonderful little boy". Back to sponge bob. He is a little clingier tonight than usual but so far its ok.

My bottom line? Im a little pissed that my five year old who is afraid of monsters and "bloody mary" and the goosebumps commercial on cartoon network is now pondering something vast and horrible. Im unsure because I dont know if this is exactly vast and horrible for him and I dont want to make it more so. Im guilty because I should have prepared him regardless. I knew the day was coming. Im wondering if I should prep the teachers for possible death talk tomorrow. Strangely, nothing like this occurred in any of the schools I worked in today.

Thanks for letting me process friends.

Bitch and Moan Monday

2007-09-10T19:53:00.000-04:00

Im sorry. I realize I just started laying the groundwork for the many tales of fifth grade and the perfect storm. However, I am far too crabby to continue right now and need to bitch and moan before....well...bad things happen. (I cry? I share a beer with the children? I dont know...just bad) So here are some things pissing me off/annoying me/demoralizing me (not in particular order) tonight.

- Ive truly lost the will to fight my two year old. Between his ~~relentless struggle for power~~ ~~unpleasant stubborn and willfull streak~~ completely age appropriate quest for independence Every. Single. Minute. Of. The. Day. and his sweet little "peese" (how can we not reward manners? except when "peese" is "let me push brother off the step stool onto the porcelain sink" or "let me take this bungee cord and hook one end to the door knob and the other to the dog") So has Norm. We are defeatedly watching sesame street for the third straight hour. The saddest part? Id stand up for Norm but he just doesnt want to hear his brother scream anymore.

- Ok Baby BEAWWWWW Its a FUCKING R ok? See a goddam speech therapist! If you are wondering why grandmama bear treats you like a baby? MAYBE YOU SHOULD GO BY SOME OTHER NAME THEN BABY BEAR you idiotic fuckwipe (sorry this is a long standing grudge)

- Zoe: you whiny little brat. For the record? It IS your fault that elmo's blanket ripped. It was NOT AN ACCIDENT. An accident would have been if you had snagged it on a zipper WHILE YOU WERE HANDING IT BACK TO HIM WHEN HE ASKED YOU TO. But since you PULLED ON IT AFTER HE TOLD YOU TO GIVE IT BACK? THAT IS NOT A FUCKING ACCIDENT. Thats you being a total spoiled little entitled asshole. I sometimes fantasize about being in Elmo In Grouchland just so you stop snowing everyone with your "poor little me, i didnt mean to" act and have to step up and own the shit storm you created with your selfish inconsiderate behavior.

- Sometimes, it is very demoralizing to find out that my supervisees are going to get slammed in a school meeting two hours before it happens. It is even more demoralizing to crash the meeting and have all the teachers act like I should have been more prepared. To a meeting that I wasnt...even...invited...to.

- It is also demoralizing to have the guidance counselor of said school who complained to everyone all day that he had to redistribute a memo because you needed to reschedule a meeting later this week (and here is a tip for all those in administration. Dont bitch to people who have professed to like me in the past. They will tell me just for the opportunity for us both to make fun of you) suddenly decide he is your best friend when you crash the meeting because he knows he is busted for not inviting you.

It seems most important to preface this next part with what ive realized about my breasts recently. In the past, Ive struggled with "the girls" as they are particularly big. My own confidence or lack thereof about my sexuality would end up being tied into the girls and i was extremely self conscious about how they were perceived by the world. However, a few years ago, I realized that it was simply man's fascination about boobs themselves that elicit the compulsion to stare. I found a strange sense of comfort with the knowledge that really? They could be attached to anybody male or female and they would still have the same effect. The same fellow who never looked me in the eye since we met in the early nineties would most likely be just as ogly towards anybody, david letterman, bob newhart, santa claus etc. had any of these fellows been sporting kazongas my size. Thus, introducing the girls to my political world seemed to be a smart and logical solution to boob management in my professional life. Please bear this in mind as you read on

- The most demoralizing part would be knowing that I deliberately chose to let him look down my shirt when he was wavering on filling out a form that I needed because I knew it would urge him to "make the right decision". In case you are wondering? Engaging in such a maneuver will leave one with a combination of the feeling of wanting to puke because you let it happen and being incredibly sad and defeated that it actually worked.

-Strangely, this did not make it more uplifting when Dr. Fuckly (a principal who apparently possesses kryptonite to my powers of cleavage)was not about to let a cheap look interfere with an opportunity to interrupt a discussion I was having with the fifth grade teachers about how well the perfect storm is doing to let me know in an unmistakably blaming tone of voice that her occupational therapist was left "out of the loop" in terms of her part of treatment. Apparently, the fact that the OT is affiliated with the school and not our agency along with the fact that by my very role definition I don't have any control over how that therapy is provided to my or any client is irrelevant. It is also apparently irrelevant that the OT only knew that she was "out of the loop" and not simply working around a documentation deficit from one of her own peers (which she was but I digress) is because I TOLD the OT this morning. Still, this is my fault. If the above did not make sense? Short answer. Dr. Fuckly publicly shames me for something that has about as much to do with me as the weather. In fact, shaming me for the weather would have made more sense.

-This leads me to a string of "should haves" lasting several hours. I should have unsmilingly met his gaze and told him that Im assuming this means he is handling the issue and thanking him (in as much as a condescendingly puzzled tone as I could muster) for sharing that information with me. I should have (again with puzzled condescension) apologized for missing the connection between her behavioral progress and this other therapy. I should have said "excuse you for talking. Please wait your turn". As it stands? If he ever makes me cry? I think I will punch him. For real.

- Turnip? Sweetie? We want to let you watch "melmo" but we dont understand why everytime he comes on tv you cry and say his name sadly. Peeze what baby? PEEZE WHAT??? WHAT CAN WE DO????

-Norm we arent going to miss the bus tomorrow for the third day in a row are we? Are we buddy? I dont mind so much but you get so disappointed it breaks my heart.

ok friends, that was kind of cathartic! Im going to bed early and tomorrow will be better.

Fifth grade: Cast of characters

2007-09-10T07:39:00.000-04:00

Ok friends, totally late this morning but need to set the stage before i go back in:

DeathRay- This would be our resident classmate with Down's Syndrome. I realize the stereotypes of chidren with Down's Syndrome as cheerful sunny and adorable are just that. But Im hear to tell you friends. Deathray? As Madame Fabu pointed out...She aint no Corky. She is a mean spirited bossy little thing that sucks me in every time because she is cute. And makes me want to punch her by the end of every interaction.

Olga- DeathRay's aide. I liked Olga for about a minute. Then I realized that she is merely an extension of death ray.

Brutus- Another classmate. He has this weird symbiotic relationship with Perfect Storm. She needs his help and he needs to help her. He is great. Our first lunch conversation consisted of him explaining why he is now on meds to control his angry behaviors. Unfortunately he reports that they dont seem to be working.

Spitdrool Steven- SDS kind of reminds me of forrest gump with a saliva problem. Its a little gross. I couldnt figure out my antipathic reaction to him for several days. Then I realized that he reminds me of an ex-boyfriend. Who was much smarter and less gump-like. And only produced saliva when necessary. And dumped me making me extremely bitter.

Ok many more to come but thats a little slice of what Im walking into this morning. Have a fantastic monday!

Id like to thank the little people....

2007-09-09T16:43:00.000-04:00

I WON!!! Friends today I received the universal nod of approval regarding my half-assed alcoholic soaked pointless existence. I WON A PRIZE!!! For details (and my acceptance speech) Go see Rockdog. Im off to bask in my success...

George ate all my cheese.

2007-09-07T16:56:00.000-04:00

The turnip's first sentence as reported by Aunt Gretty! I need to do a sum up post of my week of the perfect storm but ill just throw a few random dashes at ya til i get the chance.

- It is day four of school and we've already missed the bus and had our first "tardy". I explained to Norm that we only get twelve tardies before they call the authorities. He got very nervous so I told him it would just mean we had to pay a fine with the money we've been saving for the wii. Apparently he told his kindergarten teacher this. I knew my proactive pre-concern teacher stalking would pay off! Ive dispensed with the formalities and can now just shoot off an explanatory email as these things come up.

-I do love my job friends but if a fifteen year autistic old boy never ever brings up issues involving his "weird sexual attractions" (his words) in front of six elderly couples as we all take advantage of ponderosa's early bird special buffet and platter deal I will still feel fulfilled as a professional.

- Signs that my loved ones worry about my spiritual future: Madame Fabu offers me support today with the phrase "Wherever you end up its gonna be first class". Of course South Park immediately came to mind as I flashed to the thought of satan finding me too abusive and leaving me to live in a loft on the west side with a vegetarian named Chris.

- Norm informed me yesterday that he may have a new girlfriend named Kimmie. He apparently eats lunch with her. "She is kind of creepy looking but she is really nice". "Creepy pretty?" I ask hopefully. "No just plain creepy". Im hoping this means he is a total package guy who looks beyond the surface and not that he is automatically drawn to creepy looking girls. And im wondering what norm defines as creepy. Because my children are growing up around a somewhat "out of the box" social circle. Tattoos, wild clothes and piercings are not creepy. Goth is not creepy. So what does he find creepy? It makes a mom ponder....I do know that pre-school creepy was the weird little kid who would stare at norm without speaking when he said hello. But apparently kimmie talks to him...

Ok friends, thanks for indulging me! More on the perfect storm soon.

Thursday Thirteen: The Potterhead edition.

2007-09-06T06:24:00.000-04:00

In honor of her inaugural week of blogging, I dedicate this TT to my darlin' Lucy. For an extremely thoughtful defense of her fascination go here .

You might be obsessed with Harry Potter if....

1. You ~~stand in line for wristbands~~ ~~show up at the bookstore for the 10pm book release pre-vent~~ bring YOUR OWN potter themed entertainment to the late night Potter ~~geek fest~~ book release event.

2. After you participate in the above while trying to tell yourself it was something you did for your 8 year old daughter, you spend the next 36 hours in hiding until you finish the book only to resurface looking extremely pale and tired but more satisfied than if you'd had a week-long chocolate/sex binge with Colin Firth.

3. You have the uncanny ability to work a Harry Potter reference into every conversation ranging from your opinions on the use of critical pedagogy as a teaching method to discussions of effective conditioners for curly hair.

4. You laugh knowingly when other like-minded potterheads offer unintelligible phrases like "dementor eating snapes" (ok thats a total guess phrase)

5. You attempt to teach your two year old nephew how to perform spells by waving sticks around and instead of being alarmed by the fact that you have now turned him into an out of control weapon on the move, you express great pride in his "stupefying skills".

6. Your daughter has a Harry Potter flag hanging on her bedroom door only because she busted you putting it on the front door and claimed it for herself.

7. After much soul searching you decide to forgive your loving and devoted sister-in-law/dearest friend/identified "person" despite the obvious disrespect she showed in the use of the phrase "Dumblefuck". You also commit yourself to educating her about this act of clear ignorance.

In all fairness to the obsession, I need to devote the last items to the Harry Potter Party. Which, regardless of how I mock, was a total "bash of the season" as Lucy parties are wont to be.

7. Your party guests call each other in confusion because they have no idea where the hell the party is since you wrote Potter addresses in the location spot of the invitation.

8. You offer comfort to your five year old nephew by telling him that "it's ok, you don't really have it in you to be a death eater and thats a good thing"

9. You have a devoted crew of twenty small children (only about five of whom have any idea as to what you might be talking about) joyfully running all over your backyard looking for snakes and incarnations of Sirius Black and other magical items.

10. Although you are specifically known by your loved ones as being an adult that is vigilantly aware of child safety, you have no qualms about setting up chemical reactions in the back yard as a part of a potion making activity.

11. During said potion activity, one of the children refers to the food coloring and politely through clenched teeth, you explain once again that it is not food coloring but invisible ink. (your frustration stemming from the fact that you've already had to tell them three times that the dried mandrake root was NOT baking soda)

12. You are calm and reassuring after your sister-in-law/dearest friend/identified "person" accidentally eats several dragon eggs meant to be used in the explosion experiment. You totally had back up eggs.

13. (I think this might be my favorite) You know enough Harry Potter to be able to pick personality suiting quotes to put on the loot bags for 23 children!

(honorable mentions)
-When you say the quiz says you are only 19% obsessed, your loved ones look at you dubiously, secretly suspecting that you cheated the quiz to bring your score down so it would not be so glaringly obvious that you have a problem.
-Your loved ones have discussed having an intervention but are afraid that even if you cannot summon snapes or house elves or whatever the hell us, you have no qualms about giving our small children sticks to wield at us.
-You've given your husband the pseudonym Reg because he will not let you directly identify him as Sirius Black in your relentless crusade to be Mrs. Sirius Black so you will be Mrs. Reg Black (named for Sirius's brother)(dont get excited friends, I only know this because of Mrs. Black)

Kickball update

2007-09-05T23:05:00.000-04:00

Shame. On. Me. Two games in and no real kickball report. What you must think of me! Forgive me friends. Its such an all encompassing experience that one blog post doesnt really sum it up. I think dashes will be the only way to do this justice.

On the negative side:
- We've "lost" two games. Ten to nothing.
- They call the game after a ten to nothing lead.
-This means a game which can last no longer than an hour, can also be called once the ten point shut out occurs.
- The first game came close to the hour. Tonight the game was called in roughly twenty five minutes.
- I have not yet made it to base.
- I play right field. I completely missed two balls today and literally fell on the ground trying to catch another one. (and yes i missed)
- I think I actively dislike one of our team members. Too soon to say because i just met her, but if you dont show up for practices and only show up for the game today and nobody knows you maybe you shouldnt make snotty comments about the practice we need? (see i feel ok saying this because i know the team and have missed both practices and do not feel its appropriate or necessary to criticise "us")
- There have been points during both games that I was more than slightly suspicious that the opposing team starting feeling sorry for us and allowing us to get them out. (My team is good though so that could have been my own low self esteem!)
- The "good game" team slap at the end of the feels very impersonal. I am not sure if I felt xenophobic about the other teams before or after I noticed this half-assed expression of sportsmanship.
- Also, we got booed by a five year old from a team we werent even playing today. I did allow myself a bit of snarkiness in his direction but not enough that I will not have a complete grudge for the team when we play them.

The positives
- Tonight the other team let us play after they shut us out, giving us an additional half hour of practice.
- I made two plays today that seemed to be successful from my perspective. Neither worked out as a gain to our team but I still felt good about it
- We are pretty damn good at bunting as a team
- We are also funny and entertaining
- Being with my friends like this is so damn good for my soul.
- I caught several balls in practice (put your boobs into the ball, this is the key)
- I also am learning to turn the ball around.
- I think Im starting to learn to read what the kickers are going to do.
- If I can learn to play better, I think I could be a secret strength because you can tell that the other people completely underestimate me.
- The refs have been really nice. I didnt like the one from tonight at first, but he turned out to be really cool in general. He did directly make fun of me in a dicklike way when i came up to kick but his overall attitude towards the team was really positive.
- I attribute this to our amazing team captain T. She shmoozing and makes them love us.
- Our t-shirts are so much prettier than the other teams.
- We played the defending champions last week and really made them work for the game. Sort of. They won on three specific errors. This means once we get our shit together we will be unstoppable.

We can really rock at this. I know we can. Go Ballistics!

But cancer sucks way more than school.

2007-09-05T06:35:00.000-04:00

Owie is in this video. Im not telling you where. Ill just say he is the cutest one. Moe, I love you guys. A lot.

School kind of sucks

2007-09-04T21:00:00.001-04:00

Seriously.

Friends, Ive been remiss in keeping you posted about the little personal nightmares brewing in my day to day life. I really need to be better about this because such omissions leave you no context whatsoever when the overloaded chamber pot that is my job (family, parenting skill level, financial situation, personal relationship network etc) spills out and leaves us all wallowing in a huge flood of shit. My job you say? Why yes, and if you guessed this has to do with our sweet old friend Perfect Storm . (note this link is only the tip of the PS iceburg. For a true history just search the term in my blog search engine) then you would be right. The good news is that we are away from the Legion of Doom and are back in her home district. The bad news is that I am now spending every waking moment of the school day (not including my tardiness)(or leaving early) (or being able to skip out for "legitimate" excuses)with our little sweet heart.

Why you ask? Well friends, this would be because the front line worker lined up for this position embarrassed us both at the school meeting, causing the school to "request" that she be taken off the case. I wanted to object friends, I really did. I wanted to say that she just didnt do well at meetings. Truth be told gentle readers? I had my suspicions. She seemed to become a little ....obsessed..with me. After she found out I was supervising her, Id catch her staring at me to the point of awkwardness. Now generally, you know I am a gracious recipient of girl crushes friends. After all, who can blame the poor lost souls who get swept away by the ocean of beauty and charm that is crse? (and trust me I do tend to attract Poor. Lost. Souls.) But she not only crossed into creepy? But she also had the AUDACITY to generalize her obsessive stares to anyone connected with the case! HELLO??? If you are going to girlcrush on me? Please be consistent if you want me to deign you with offhanded gestures of attention ok? Otherwise it means NOTHING.

But I digress. Long story short? (too late you think? Ah but no, it actually was a much much longer story involving my cleavage/whimsical pants strategy and a cross-eyed unjustifiably cocky psychologist along with other plot points) There was nobody to replace shallow stalker girl and here i am. Lonnie Manko is being totally cool about letting me provide as much service as I can to PS because really? She has a good chance of succeeding this time. So thats the good news. And the bad news. Today was kind of mild with only one mishap involving her molesting the class guinea pig. I did not know guinea pigs made noises like that.

Norm started kindergarten today. He did well. I did ok. Up until he told me that the afternoon teacher was "kind of mad at him" which led to me calling her and thus identifying myself as "that mom". Well she denied anything happened but Im hoping i scared her straight. Ok too tired to talk/post pictures. This may have been the rambliest post ever but friends, fifth grade made me her bitch today.

EMERGENCY SHOUT OUT

2007-09-04T07:43:00.000-04:00

My awesomely hilarious sister-in-law and one of my key people and best friends Lucy started blogging! Please go say hello!
And link to her. I guarantee you that you will be hooked.

Fridays with Norman

2007-09-01T13:59:00.001-04:00

Warning: Self indulgent mommy post ahead.

You folks know I try to keep the normisms feature up to date right? Yet sometimes he does the cutest things and I just have to expand here. Especially after a particularly adorable day!

First incident: Driving to drop off paperwork. Just finished a lengthy conversation with Lucy about Operation Kiss My Ass. I did not think he could hear me or was even paying attention although I was careful not to use specifics in our discussion.
"Mommy Operation Kiss My Ass sounds a little inappropriate. Maybe you should try something else...you know like about houses"

Second incident: Turnip is screaming and sobbing because the three minute ride between the Kentucky Fried CHicken and Madame Fabu's house was too much to bear. I told him Id give him a biscuit and of course got distracted with something stupid like trying not to get in an accident.
"Mommy! Give him a freaking biscuit already"

Third incident: Target school supply section. Norm is across the aisle, still visible but too far away for my visible comfort. I asked him what he was doing over there. He answers loudly.
"Oh nothing. Just holding my buttcheeks together so my poop doesnt come out."
He then refuses to ride in the cart so i can get him to the bathroom more quickly and proceeds to waddle across the store frequently offering status reports. "Its coming out just a little bit but Im trying to make it go back in." "Im holding it mommy. Im holding it real good with my butt" "ohhh mommy here it comes. No wait. Its back again." By the time we made to the bathroom, im fairly certain everyone in the store knew norm's bowel issues.

Fourth incident: not nec. a normism per se. But we are in the dressing room and he is trying on pants. He wiggles just a bit and a little chunk of poop (obviously compressed) drops down on the floor. We just looked at each other in shock. He smiled and look scared. And then I did what any responsible mother would do. Started giggling with him. I looked for some tissue paper laying around but there was nothing so we kicked it under the seat and got the hell out of there. Not my finest moment (especially because i can specifically remember being grossed out from finding a piece of poop in a dressing room when I worked in retail. And of course I questioned what kind of white trash parent would let that happen.) but it brought back a happy memory of a story about a certain blog reading friend and a valley view toilet display! It never gets old baby. Never.

Ok the last one is soccer related. Now my brother is coaching norm. And as Ive probably mentioned before, my brother is a total freak so he's trying to teach the five year olds defense strategy. And he of course calls it that. They are all totally confused except they know when the guys with the other color shirt have the ball they all are supposed to run to the net. So Norm is doing his little "goalie" thing next to his cousin and friend and a little girl from the other team also by the net is ready to make an assist. He says to her. "Excuse me. Could you please move?" I think organized sports has been waiting for someone like Norm.

Thanks for indulging me. Ill pace myself before the next cute Turnip post!

everything the hard way

2007-09-01T07:25:00.001-04:00

i have just noticed i have this amazing talent of doing Really Stupid Things (i know this is not so unusual but) and KNOWING they are Really Stupid Things but having to finish them anyway thus adding extra work for myself. Case in point. If i start using google reader and i dont want to post comments with my true identity, then i should be google reading from my zamphir account right? well might as well realize this at link three and THEN CONTINUE TO ADD ALL THE WAY DOWN TO TWENTY before i think maybe i screwed that up. I have serious google reader questions. Im going to post them durng the week for optimal tech support! just putting it all out there.

Because what the hell else should I be doing

2007-08-29T00:00:00.001-04:00

Yes friends. It is the 29th. (Yes friends. I have a total of four (out of approximately 44) notes written. Yes friends. Im doing a me-me. (But I will not allow my self to post it until Im done with the notes) THis is one of the best me-me's ive seen in a long time invented by none other than the perpetually prolific Gospel Bob . (Little shout out? Gospel Bob's blog ROCKS ASS. I realize I feel that way about all your blogs but seriously? His blog is so good that Ive blog-stalked him for months waiting for him just to throw a little haiku in our direction. And now friends? He is blogging more than once every three months! And he not only did his first me-me but he followed up by writing his one! Go Give Him Love. (but dont let it stop you from commenting as im feeling particularly comment needy because his me-me asks for a bit of vulnerability) If that doesnt convince you, another GB selling point is that he is married to the brilliant and beautiful Luckybuzz.)

Ok here goes the me-me!

Four First Names of Crushes I've Had: Gill. (pseudonymonously of course). Matt (first grade boyfriend). Rich (still cant talk about this after fourteen years). Eli (current pharmacist crush).

Four Pieces of Clothing I wish I still owned:
My blue fish shirt.
The pants I set on fire in my apartment on the north side.
My Jimmy Buffet shoes.
The coat I bartered away from yet another (un-named crush)

Four names I've been called at one time or another:
Crispy
Pissy Crse
Johnny
Bitch

Four Professions I secretly Want to Try: (ok we know I have no secrets but still...)

Clown (not the scary kind) despite my disillusioning experience with clown camp.
Lawyer (Maybe you could do a take your stalkee to work day once you get settled eh GB?)
Consultant (ok i know this is what i am but in my little fantasy world, i would travel around and give funny presentations about stress reduction and stuff like that)(ok I know I do this now but infrequently. And my presentations arent that great I fear. And most of my humor in these presentations is accidental. Unfortunately.)
Stay at home Mom: Ok dont tell anyone. Im kind of embarrassed. BUt i wouldnt just stay at home. Id become obsessively involved with Norm's school.

Four Musicians I'd most want to go on a date with:

A certain banjo player on the occidental coast.
David Bowie
johnny depp (stolen directly from Luckybuzz thank you very much!)
(ok i tried to stop myself for you GB but I have so many questions about his lyrics,(and why he sold out to Lexus) I couldnt pass up the chance) Elvis Costello

Four Foods I'd rather Throw than Eat
Onions
Peppers
Mushrooms
Any meal with chunky sauce

Four Things I Like to Sniff
My boys
Anything that still has my grammy's smell on it.
Gasoline (ok i dont sniff it per se, but it reminds me of my dad)
Cigar smoke. (only certain ones though)

Four People to Tag:
Gill Smoke
Gretty
Maggiemay
Bunny ok Im cheating but Im so damn curious. Not that Im not about the rest of you mind you.
Jay
Trelvix (ok you dont HAVE to but as your "therapist" im askin real nice!)

The rest of you folks too of course. its the 31st now and no im not quite finished but i think all things considered i deserve to me-me today

why is the law and order svu er doctor chewing up the scenery?

2007-08-29T00:00:00.000-04:00

Ok friends- just have to share a few things to purge me mind.

- Met with the woman refinancing our loans. Im not sure what transpired in the meeting because I couldnt stop staring at her breasts. In fact, I dont think any of us could. They were lovely and quite overtly featured. At first i thought she brought the girls out because she is unfortunately what my co-worker spike calls a "butterface". (i.e. everything looks good on her "butterface") (Spike is our in house link to all things urban and street. We arent sure how or why he has this information. We secretly fear that he watches Ricki lake or other trash talk shows on the sly and our "street cred" is eventually going to be traced back to trailer parks across the midwest) In retrospect, im wondering if the girl show wasnt a marketing strategy. It may have backfired though because generally my kids would have been distracting enough to compel me to sign anything to get the hell out of there. However, Norm and the turnip silently stared (along with Gill and I) for the entire half hour.

- Went for my med check today. Here is something ive been pondering all evening. If you go to your shrink and tell him that you've been inexplicably edgy and irritable as well as excessively emotional as of late, would you expect him to tweak the anti-depressants? Or boost the adderall (read CONTROLLED SUBSTANCE) another ten mgs? He said he thinks it could be related to adderrall withdrawal...hmmm... It should be an interesting ride. I want to apologize to all my RT friends right now. And warn Gill to hide the cutlery. Please.

- Before my med check, I saw my therapist (in the same office). I need social guidance here friends. In between the two sessions, I was sitting in the lobby. My therapist kept walking past. At first we smiled and commented. Then we just smiled. Then it just got damn awkward. I am fairly certain that we were both avoiding eye contact by the third or fourth pass. What is normal protocol for this sort of interaction? Alas, I fear that the real question is, Why am I so socially stunted?

Alright friends, Going to bed so Im rested for the big day tomorrow. Did I mention Gill is now playing? This is not a good thing as he's gone totally patsy ramsey on norm during soccer. I know they stress sportsmanship but Im thinking that trash talking between spouses is considered privileged communication, right?

Edited to add: Butterface is used like so. "She's a butterface. Everything looks good on her butterface (but. her. face) This would mean she's not really pretty. In the face. But her body rocks hard enough that you really might just think about swallowing your pride and leaving the lights out or getting the proverbial bag for her head!

Things that make me happy Tuesday

2007-08-28T06:45:00.000-04:00

Let me preface this by saying that I completely suck. Im behind on blogs. Im behind on many many things. However, it just aint a tuesday anymore if I dont do Gretty's Tuesday Twelve . Many things to be happy about this week despite how bad I suck and how far behind I am.

1. My brother and his family are coming to stay the whole weekend this weekend! Good times will be had by all...(these will include but are not limited to a birthday party for my little adorable moppet of a niece, the county fair, and possibly a shopping trip).
2. I got my first Yahtzee of the summer yesterday.
3. They now have frequent soda drinker cards at Sheetz. Not only that but the Very Cute Sheetz boy that Ive been working for about six months gave me a card and punched it all out so I can get a free one right away!
4. I may be able to refinance my house and save lots of money.
5. I got reimbursed for a trip I did not think I would be reimbursed for. YAY!
6. My boss Lonnie Manko is returning from a month long training. She is of the rocking sort so this will be good.
7. First kickball game tomorrow! (I made this seven for good luck)
8. Something really good happened to Mother Fabu. It would take too long to explain.
9. Found a new game to play with Madame Fabu at the Crawford County Fair. Count the pregnant smoking ladies. Made the experience much less gruelling.
10. Its staying hot. I heart hot! (i know this is not a popular mindset)
11. Operation Kiss My Ass is starting to pay off towards the targeted family member. Ive also managed to expand this more every day. I had a particular success yesterday when a dear friend was completely at odds with me about a work issue. (not Madame Fabu. We are not ever at odds because she is my supervisor and she also listens to my opinions and explains her position in a way that makes me feel ok about issues...) Usually because she is such a dear friend, I would have apologized for my viewpoint and concurred with hers. I love her dearly and didnt want her to kiss my ass per se, but thanks to the assertiveness Ive found through Operation Kiss My Ass, I was able to remain assertive about my position despite the fact that Im pretty sure she thought I was wrong. Turns out, she is still nice to me and despite our professional differences, I think (im not positive) she wants to still be my friend!
12. My Dad rocks. No particular reason. I just cannot say that enough.

I promise I will catch up soon. Im going down my blog list (which is completely random and not in order of preference) and reading a bit at a time!

Because Im a gretty groupie

2007-08-23T07:01:00.001-04:00

Im going to convert this thursday thirteen to a tuesday twelve sheerly out of love for the gret Twelve things (ok yeah i could come up with thirteen but its gretty here and good groupies are consistent groupies) Im extremely happy about this week. Warning the list will include but not be limited to the fantastic and surprisingly low key birthday i had yesterday.

1. The best birthday present I think Ive ever gotten. (courtesy of my artiste friend gretty)
(Bear with my sorry attempts to capture this on film)

2. Gill got me a snazzy new printer/copier/scanner/fax machine HOOKED UP RIGHT TO MY LAPTOP! Now all i need is the catheter and ill never leave this chair again.

3. Kickball season starts wednesday and I set my first official work boundary by rescheduling my supervision group despite the fact that not every single person could be accomodated. Usually I would apologize profusely and/or sacrifice my own plans to do the group but with the support and encouragement of madame fabu (just one of the many reasons she has this name!) I did not do this and people are going to have to deal with it. Go me!

4. The lusciously lovely Luckybuzz sent me this and I clearly need to add it to my page somehow.

5. LB and her husband the gorgeously goofy Gospel Bob as well as several other people including my little facebook contingency ( Terrifically tantalizing Trix! My own spider monkey song! You have no idea what that means to me!) made special birthday wishes that melted my heart and made me happy! (gospel bob, i hope you are blog stalking me. If you aren't its ok. Ill just pretend you are silently stalking and not leaving comments!)

6. Best birthday song performance goes out to Lucy and the Lucettes(the adorable little moppets that are my nieces) for the birthday song message of a lifetime. You guys are all rockstars!

7. Going to the crawford county fair with the Fabus this weekend! (note to Lucy, playing "there's your boyfriend/girlfriend" in Crawford County is like playing it at Rogers. Its just too damn easy)

8. Whenever Im down?

I simply cross dress my baby and life just feels better*

9. We are in the midst of another wave of birthdays. Yesterday, was also my dearest friend and birthday buddy C-no's fortieth birthday. Our friend Lainie is on the 26th. Luckybuzz is the 31st. My oldest little adorable moppet/niece (who needs a good nickname) is September 1st, both Gospel Bob and the fabulously beautiful and brilliant Feather share September 14th, and Princess Fabu and my cousin Larry are the 15th. Bring on da noise bring on da ugly season!

10. Im still making my bed.

11. Ive spun most of my fall schedules into a believable set of lies. (again go me!)

12. Awww! Just when I was struggling for number 12 my brother just called to wish me a happy birthday! As the guy with the tangerine lipgloss says "Im one lucky gal".

Thanks for indulging me friends.

*Note: in my defense, he actually chose the outfit himself. (also you can see parts of princess fabu in the background if you look carefully!)

Live Blog Monday

2007-08-20T10:54:00.000-04:00

Good morning friends! Its raining here. I realize this is not a popular sentiment but I LOVE rainy mondays when im not in the field. (otherwise they completely suck, well no more than any other rainy day in the field really) And what would be better on a rainy monday than yet another attempt at a live blog? (which of course will probably be aborted due to my tendency to NEVER follow through on live blogging) So here we go (in the random slashes of crap style you've become accustomed to here!)

- I ate my cereal with a damaged spoon today. I do not know how the spoon got damaged. It kind of makes me sad about myself that I allowed the spoon to continue to scratching my tongue because i was too lazy to get up and get a new one.

-I lost my cell-phone.

- (mini- post ahead:) Did I tell you we got a land line? It was meant for the sole purpose of faxing . But when the folks came to set it up we needed an actual phone. The cheapest phone I found was a Pirates of the Caribbean corded phone. Thus, Norm's private line was born. Not to taunt the lost fans of normtasia (we've been pressuring him to return. He says he will start again any day now) but the only thing more adorable than norm blogging is norm on the phone. Particularly leaving messages. (If you want a phone message from norm send an email to my address with your number. Or go to Ishamelesslypimpmysonout.com) We thought this would help him learn numbers as well as phone manners. Interestinly, the bill collectors have found my listing and call him. Being that we've disavowed the phone, we let him handle these calls. Its awesome because he does not bother covering the phone and he hollers "Mom its the people who want to take all your money, what do i tell them?" and we say "whatever you like". ANd he tells them that they should put us on the do not call list. (props to gretty for perpetuating another generation of entitled credit abusers in our family!)

- Ok I need to work on the School Packets That Will Not Die. Ill be back...

ok 5:05pm

- While the honey mustard pringles are exciting to have, I really need to stop drinking the cans. I should not be capable of eating an entire can of pringles in one sitting. In twenty minutes. Im beginning to think the "limited time only" thing might be for the best as today is the first day I did not drink a can since Ive gotten them.

-Its tomato season here. Fresh off the vine tomatos grown in my dad's garden. Its freaking nirvana.

- The spoon thing really did not work out well as my tongue has been all cut up today.

- For the record, I did not get team pestilence. We are...the ballistics. Im trying to get past it. Rumor has it we have these awesome deep purple shirts. That helps.

ok here is one update anyway. Maybe there will even be another soon!

So this pig walks into a bar....

2007-08-18T15:32:00.000-04:00

Well friends, Im happy to report that the week has completely turned around and Im once again riding the lazy river of denial and hope! So here is something interesting/odd/slightly uncomfortable/embarrassing to share. We are going to a pig roast tonight. Now, Ive heard about pig roasts before and we've been invited to this one for the last four years, but this is the very first time that Im faced with actually attending one. The party is hosted by one of the owners of Gill's company who seems to be a totally fun guy who by all indications throws a hell of a shindig. (We always blew it off in the past because we had other things going on) Somehow, I guess I never really played the tape through about what is actually going to happen at this event. And now, Im kind of horrified. So all week long, these sort of disturbing thoughts about the roast have been floating around the edges of my conscious mind. Like on the invitation, there is a thank you to the woman who raised and provided the pig. Um...Fern?? Where are you because I think Wilbur is in some big damn trouble right now. I don't know what the hell I was thinking. Its not like I was holding on to an image of the pig up on a stage like flavor-flav with all the pigs friends telling jokes. Still, over the last day or so, it occurred to me as Im looking at books with the turnip, asking him what sound the pig makes, how are the kids going to feel when they see a whole charred pig? How am I going to feel? How can i eat, or let my babies eat something after we all clearly saw that it was bigger than any one of us individually? The whole experience smacks of cannibalism to me. The execution of Joan of Arc is also coming to mind a lot. I mean I tried vegetarianism and couldnt take it, but I am firm about wanting to be as far away as possible from any knowledge of my meat as an animal. (for instance, where do hamburgers come from? Why the freezer of course) Its shallow cruelty i know, (I am working towards a more healthy approach and gradually trying to add cruelty free meat to our diets)(admittedly, gradual in the sense that im still buying the happy eggs and have asked my friend Feather about good places to buy happy meat) but its how i roll. So as the party draws closer, Im feeling less and less festive and more like Im heading into a scene straight out of lord of the flies.

Speaking of the flavor-flav roast,Im a little concerned about carrot top. He appears to have some defensiveness issues. I was really afraid he was going to go off during the show. Im researching this further. I will keep you posted. (but no i am not going to explain how i ended up watching the flavor-flav roast. Some things just..happen)

In positive news, someone mailed my driver's license back to me this week. I took it as the universe telling me to lose the morose attitude. Ok thats what i got.

wtf wednesday

2007-08-15T18:53:00.000-04:00

Let me preface this by letting you all know that I believe I may be back to operational levels again and am committed to providing the aimless drivel you've become accustomed to here at chez panflutemaster. Having said that, I must tell you, this is a totally WHAT THE FUCK wednesday post.

Now allow me to offer that I appear to have gone through some sort of personality transformation. I am tracing it back to "Operation: Kiss My Ass". OKMA was meant to be a discrete project with the focus on one specific individual. The project's goal? Was to let said individual know in socially acceptable ways that she really could just KISS MY ASS. Planning stages lasted several weeks and implementation process started this past Monday night. Im not sure if it was the headiness of my immediate (and pettily gratifying) success with OMKA that spurred me to generalize, but I can tell you that Ive become one bad mothafucka (in my mind at least)these last few days. Ok now on to the what the fuck wed.

So one of my work stressors today was the need to send four large faxes (do they call faxes large?) from a satellite office of my organization. Simple enough? One would think. However two factors complicated this task. First, my department is not what you'd call.... well thought of.... throughout the health system. In fact, it would be safe to say that if one is looking at the organization as a microcosm of society, our department would be the pariah. We annoy others just by being. (And yes, in case you are wondering, this pisses us off greatly.) At this particular satellite office, eleven of us are forced to meet once a week in a glorified closet. The kind and empathic mental health professionals and staff that work there are not shy about public shaming and scolding us for oozing out of the closet into their world. Now pre-OKMA Crse has been worried about this aspect of the task for over a week because, (allowing us to segue* nicely into the second complicating factor) while i do have many talents friends? Most of them do not tend to involve anything to do with organization or paper or the ability to pay attention to directions given by mean rude people. Thus, this task was a point of dread all day long.

It started simply enough with the ONLY nice secretary in the whole office offering to help. Unfortunately between the antiquated machine, my ADD kicking up when she was explaining what to do and a consistent series of busy signals, a task that I thought would take a few minutes lasted over a half an hour.

During this half hour my only friend was gracious and did not act annoyed from having to explain everything five times. However her SOLE OFFICE MATE sighed heavily, made pointed comments about "needing to work" in my area and emanated a general bitchiness about having to share space. Friends, OKMA Crse was starting to kick in at that point. I spent several minutes staring at the fax machine imagining the scathing tirade I would unleash upon her once I grew some ovaries. All this indicates an upcoming WTF yes? Well friends, i was not to be disappointed. As a third person entered the office (a MENTAL HEALTH THERAPIST) the sighs were punctuated by pointedly annoyed commiserating comments between sole office mate and hell therapist. (bear in mind friends there are FOUR of us in the entire office, which is yes, bigger than the closet we stuff our leper stricken asses into every week) Im getting more and more bitter but would have seriously left without saying anything. Until....

ok friends, social skills quiz time. If someone you don't know is facing the other way and you want to begin a conversation with them do you
a) say "excuse me, we havent met"
b) tap the person gently or move into their line of vision and make eye contact to subtly cue that you want to begin a conversation or
c) Start a sentence talking to a person's back.

Apparently mental health therapists choose c.
"Ummmmmm maybe you could talk to your supervisor" (me not turning around, not quite believing that she is so socially inept that she thinks this is an ok way to address someone, particularly a co-worker)"(insert supervisors name here)". I turn around and incredulously say, "pardon me?" (OKMA crse to the rescue) She repeats "Maybe you could talk to your supervisor about getting a fax machine back in that office you guys use". I stare at her as if she is spewing live rats from her nostrils. "Do you need to fax something? I can wait to finish" I say with strained over politeness. "well no...its just because the space here is so small" (I may have guffawed quietly at that point. Im fairly certain I did the poorly disguised eye roll) "and well its not convenient for any of us." In response to my shocked (ok and deliberately prolonged) silence her voice becomes a little panicky as she apparently finally realizes that she has committed a grievous faux pas "and well Im sure you would prefer that too...."

EXCUSE THE FUCK OUT OF ME MARIE ANTOINETTE. We will just go order us up some faxes. Because they've clearly accomodated us so much by STICKING US IN A DAMN CLOSET! WITH FOUR CHAIRS! And if you get there early? you MAY get a box. Otherwise you are on the floor for the next hour. Great idea your majesty. Faxes for everyone. And RAISES!!! Because we sure as hell dont want to upset your ten square feet of free space per person ratio up here! Hey maybe when they actually BUY US SOME FUCKING CHAIRS we can mention the fax machine! Although we wouldnt be able to hook it up to the COMMODORE 64 computer THAT DOES NOT PRINT or the hacked up phone line that only dials out sporadically...... yeah.... thats what i should have said.

Instead, I offered a mirthless laugh and said sarcastically "I know this is horrible for you but we've already asked the hospital for assistance and since they are not prepared to offer actual physical space or even chairs for our closet, Im going to surmise that our own fax machine is not in the foreseeable future." Big fake smile. "Im sorry this is so inconvenient". Her empathy abound (oh i did enjoy making her squirm) she says "oh and for you too. Im sure.". At that point, I explain that Im going to buy my own fax with my next paycheck. She says "well you should give the bill to the hospital". And friends I reached for my OKMA attitude and there it was waiting for me. I laughed derisively and rolled my eyes. It was my own non verbal Whatevvv. And damn it, it felt GOOD. Later, I realized that I was probably the only person from our department ever to send a fax from there. And i did it once. Today.

Man as I re-read this, I realize it is kind of a feeble kiss my ass story. Rome wasnt built in a day my friends and for me, this sad little act of assertion represents the first time in my life that Ive actively chosen to assert myself in an unfamiliar social situation. And what a better time to do it than on a wtf wednesday!

*Moe, the use of the word segue was for you baby!

Edited to add: Stolen from the greek goddess of blogging Canada. I guess I have been known to unleash a little unholy wrath here and there

?? Which Of The Greek Gods Are You ??

Nemesis
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Turnaround Tuesday

2007-08-14T22:33:00.001-04:00

I am from this point forward pledging myself to Gretty's Tuesday Twelve which (perhaps unofficially) consists of listing twelve life brightening thoughts. (dont worry, i wont get all rainbow brite on you folks) The last 24 hours have completely restored my faith in myself and humanity (or at least my own ability to grab humanity by the asshairs and whip it down like the he-bitch it is.)

It was really just the little things. Finding out a big administrative clusterfuck was not going to be that way at all.

Cornering two supervisees who have been behaving in a slimy way and watching them squirm in the glare of my righteous fist of fury. (well at least it was like that in my mind)

Avoiding not one but two scary principal conversations while still getting results. Even better getting a KINDLY message (oh I said Kindly) from the one principal who only ten short months ago was consistently unable to hide the fact that he viewed me and my kind with abject loathing. Not only was it kindly? BUT HE RAN OUT OF TIME! It was rambly! On the one hand, I need to clarify that the relationship shift is a direct result of my concerted efforts to kiss his ass and pretend that i didnt notice his contempt every self deprecating demoralizing week of this ten month span, so this milestone is not a complete miracle. What is amazing to me is the fact that it only took me ten months. Ive had to do the dance of demoralizing self-deprecation for YEARS on people not nearly as openly hostile as he was, only to get them to admit that they knew who i was in meetings, let alone acknowledge that I had anything helpful to add. A phone call? After ten months? Shhhwinnnggggg!

I learned to double side copy.

I got a really really cheap iced tea.

I had a lovely dinner with the Fabuwomen.

Gill cleaned the house and mowed the front lawn while we were gone.

All that and as we speak Im making a case for TEAM PESTILENCE (thank you m. boucher!)

So viva la tuesday twelve!

Emergency Call For Action

2007-08-14T08:57:00.001-04:00

Friends, kickball registration is tomorrow. I need your help. The popular sentiment is leaning towards the "kickballistics". As you may have read, it just doesn't seem to fit what we are going for. Im down on the wire here (although I heard an echo of across town support for "Team Animosity") We are looking for something that says we are of above average intelligence and you should be very afraid of how we are going to maim you on the field. Something smart, but not too obscure. And something that shows focused outward aggression. In an intelligent way. Friends, the time to act is now. If not you, then who? If not now, then when?

Smile dickhead (Stolen from Gretty)

2007-08-13T22:46:00.001-04:00

Because she made me laugh out loud a few times today, I am going to follow her lead and make a list of twelve happiness things. Gret did things that have made her smile lately but since I havent been smiling or laughing too much, I figured I was best focusing on just things that have great potential to make me happy.

1. We have cheese in the house and I dont think I bounced any checks obtaining the cheese.
2. Listening to Norm on his new telephone line, calling people and leaving messages. (LB I almost peed myself when he told you about going to first the "dry park and then the water park")Even better, listening to him handle sales calls.
3. Watching the turnip run onto the practice field during Norm's first soccer practice.
4. Watching my little brother coach eleven five year olds.
5. Seeing same brother smile when I gave him a cheap ass and goofy birthday present today because it brought back funny memories.
6. Having a friend wonderful enough to remove my screaming baby from the sporting goods store so I could complete my transaction. Thank you Gretty. I love you!
7. Knowing that the boys and i are going to spend the evening with the fantastic female fabus tomorrow night.
8. Finding chunks of ice in the drink cooler and knowing for a fact that Gill chipped them directly from the freezer in the garage. Who does that? Why does it crack me up so much?
9. Kickball registration! (and the possibility that i talked the team into something more aggressive than the kickballistics, which granted is clever, but does not strike fear in the hearts of our opponents!)
10. Sheetz is adding an espresso bar to the store by Gill's work. This could mean that they will expand the espresso bar option to the sheetz closer to my house! (whoohoooo)
11. Facing the first awkward situation of pain today (in one instance) and feeling like I came out on top, looking gracious and not slightly needy or submissive. Go me. I think.
12. My blogfriends. (cheesy heart out to all of you!)

Thanks for your patience as we slowly return to our regularly scheduled absurdities.

Personal Hell Update (warning: deep thoughts ahead)

2007-08-13T07:29:00.001-04:00

Well friends, it is Monday morning, 730. I did not interact with anyone this weekend except my boys and gretty. (well I did some texting and actually cleared up a small problem but Im not counting that) I slept a whole. freaking. lot. I threw myself head first into the world of facebook. My heart does not feel so battered this morning although I still do not want to face the world at all yet.

But Ive been thinking a lot about the past week and what I've learned. This actually comes directly from the delightfully thought-provoking ms. trix who, in her myquestion section yesterday asked "what have you learned so far today?" Im not sure I answered but I did sit there for a long time trying to think about what i'd learned in the hour and a half I was awake. I learned we were completely out of cheese slices and that the toilet paper was dangerously low. I learned that my theory about my side of the bed being crippling was correct. I learned that if you take very cold waffles and dip them in syrup they will taste disgusting. Being that the first answer to her question was much more profound, I didn't think any of those would be suitable.

But the "what have I learned?" thought spurred me to think about the week. During the week, I kept thinking "what is my lesson here?" and all I could come up with was "trust no-one. People completely suck." Around 4am this morning, I woke up (well because Id slept for about 18 of the past 24 hours) with a line from Muppets take Manhatten stuck in my head. (For the record, my favorite of their work is Great Muppet Caper) It's Pete the restaurantier saying to Kermit (courtesy of IMDB) "Peoples is peoples. No is buildings. Is tomatoes, huh? Is peoples, is dancing, is music, is potatoes. So, peoples is peoples. Okay?" Know what I mean?

And I started thinking about how in my life, people have consistently inflicted upon me different levels of the same hurts they had at one time or another described as wounding them. I don't think it's just me. And Im not entirely sure it's conscious. Im not just talking about the asswipe division of humanity, but they are included. So why is our mistreatment of others almost exactly what we hurt us the most? I don't mean all the time. Im personally trying to look back and see where this applies in my life. Needless to say, I am currently lacking the insight to identify this in myself right now. Ill be quizzing Gill about this later (and RT friends feel free to jump in if you have seen me do this. I really do want the insight). Im not saying I havent been crappy to other people, but when I think back on my crappiness, its generally not stuff that wounded me to the quick when it happened to me. Anyway, I just noticed a trend.

I remember my mother telling us (in one of the few sane moments before she transitioned from just being a crappy mother to being a malicious bitch) that if she ever became like her father, she wanted us to tell her. When we did try to tell her, post transition, she would not hear it. Granted, she does fall into the asswipe category, but I always wondered why she didn't want to believe it happened when she apparently thought she could stop it. My biggest fear is that I will turn out like her too. Will I be able to hear it, if one of my brothers tell me? I think so. That's why Im in therapy.

As I fell asleep at 430am, I started dreaming about my first job. I may or may not have mentioned this job before but of all the jobs Ive had, this is the one I dream of the most. In the dream, its always the same. I have my master's degree but can't get anyone to replace me so I have to keep working there. And it was a nightmare. The whole time I worked there was a nightmare. I made lots of friends and developed some mad flirting skillz there but the work part was a nightmare. (Interestingly, I just referred back to this time on super-cool Lina's blog in response to her post about power.) (yes, Im still working on that post, but Ive not been feeling as powerful lately so Im waiting for a "how crse got her groove back" inspiration to get me going)

Now that I think about it, that was one of the first times I learned to hone my personal power.It was years later that I realized how much power I wielded in that crappy job because at that point in my life I felt completely and utterly unworthy and powerless. Ive got to save that for the power post. But perhaps thats why I had the dream. Because I just realized, I did lose my power. Nobody took it from me, but I completely lost it. And I don't feel good about myself at all. All of the feelings from that time in my life have been coming to the surface this week. (this could be largely due to the fact that the asswipe situation largely mirrors a pattern I grew up with and Im powerless to help just like I was powerless to prevent back then)Im not quite sure what to do with them. And I think that the lesson the brilliant Ms. Trix inspired me to contemplate is in what Im supposed to do with all of this. Except I dont exactly know how to get to a place of strength again. Which makes it interesting as a personal journey because the individual incidents have already started to fade in my mind but the feelings of being weak stupid ugly unworthy and unpleasant to be around are not. Towards the end of the week, I found myself apologizing for things over which i had no control or influence. In retrospect, I was apologizing for being myself.

I wanted to wrap this up with something profound and hopeful but Im naked, the turnip just woke up and appears to be loudly arguing with himself in his crib and gret will be here in a few minutes. So, Ill be back later in the day and I will continue to work on my inner wilt (if you will bear with me).

There is no fucking rainbow

2007-08-09T21:27:00.001-04:00

So as Im sitting in the bathroom of my favorite sheetz this evening, a wave of sadness washed over me. I am not sure where it came from but suddenly I knew exactly what Judy Garland meant when she made that observation while throwing all that lawn furniture into the swimming pool.

Most of the time, Im pretty optimistic. I think the world is a good and beautiful place. I believe in the ultimate goodness of all human beings (even if that goodness is nestled way down under a whole mess of hurt) I trust people to be honorable. I believe that everyone is trying their best.

At 5:20pm, in my beloved pachouli (sp) scented sheetz bathroom (pachouli (sp) you ask? I know! I too am often pleasantly surprised by the delightful aroma)it occurred to me that I have zero evidence that any of this is true. In fact, it hit me like a ton of bricks. So much so that I actually wandered out of the bathroom clutching an empty toilet paper roll because I forgot I was not at home protecting tp from a opportunistic and far too creative two year old. Most of my daily experiences offer substantial evidence to the contrary. The world is a shit sandwich. People trying their best are really only looking out for their own best interest. People pick and choose what they are honorable about. You show me any person who is high and mighty about their own altruism and I will show you the same person being shitty in other ways. Because I really just don't believe that people are that good anymore. Not in general anyway.

I say this with great respect and deference to my gentle readers who i certainly hold in great esteem. This is my whiny "why do I even fucking bother getting out of my bed in the morning?" post. Well, besides to attempt to protect my two precious babies from the imminent taint of this cruel sick world. Admittedly, my current sense of hopelessness is most likely compounded by the fact that for the past three hours my household dynamic bears more than a slight resemblance to the Jean Paul Sartre play "No Exit". If I were not experiencing it personally, I might be amused by the way the three of them are consistently pissing each other off tonight. Instead Im sitting here nursing a headache that seems to accompany my seriously shattered illusions.

You know what though friends? The beautiful thing about the human spirit is our amazing ability to deny and forget. It might take a few days or weeks for my pollyanna outlook to come back but it always does. Ill forget the 5:20 feeling that I would never feel good about another human being for the rest of my life. The moon will look beautiful. Faces will shine for me again. Someone's best efforts will make me cry with amazement. Ill go back to expecting a new possibility for joy around every corner.

And maybe next time Im in that sheetz bathroom, I wont be clenched up inside because my job involves convincing a ten year old boy that his mother does not care about him without having to say the words to him. And that it needs to be my job because until he understands that, he will not be able to heal.

And if not, at least Ill have the pachouli (sp).

The direct correlation between my procrastination and my increased blog posting

2007-08-08T07:49:00.001-04:00

Or Random Slashes Of the Insomniacal Mind if you prefer:

- Yesterday was a very sad tuesday. I would say it was the saddest tuesday Id ever had but my Grammy died on a tuesday so that is a trump right there. Yesterday was sad in a ridiculous way. Thankfully i have soul friends like Luckybuzz to see me through and share her own angst (which is way less ridiculous considering she is moving across the country as we speak)

- Speaking of LB, here is my favorite line of the weekend. "You want to know if sex with her was bad? Sex with her was so bad its the only time I ever said 'You guys go ahead and finish on your own. Im going to bed.'" (how many times were there that you didnt have to say it LB? wakawakawaka! wiggling my eyebrows suggestively at her)

- I think ive found the trigger for the early rising. Time release on the adderall. I know that this is probably a big fat duh for most of you. Sometimes it takes a while for me to develop insight . In both the ways of pharmaceuticals and the ways of the world.

- I also think my general inability to focus may be largely due to the fact that im fairly certain i get little if any REM sleep. You all know I wake up several times a night. Again, never made the leap.

- Here is one of the many reasons I love my darling Gill . He doesnt believe its all aderall related and thinks i cannot relax. Which is interesting considering how lazy I am. So he is giving me meditation advice and he is reminding me things like empty your mind. "so you are breathing and a thought comes into your head like "why is crse such a big asshole? You breathe and let it go." Turned out I misheard the name and it applied but that was pretty damn funny.

-And another reason for devotion. During the instruction he shared with me that he is currently listening to a prolonged ringtone on his Ipod to help him relax. How do you not want to spend forever with a man whose Ipod contains podcasts from organizational specialists, buddhist lectures, the hour of slack and ringtones?

-Sadly after about thirty seconds the ringtone became less relaxing and more like a trigger for a psychotic break. But hey, thats just me.

- I am going to sit in a hot house with an overbearing German woman who is suspect in her own cleaning and grooming. That is the first thing I am doing today. I will probably be there for several hours. I tell you this because although i havent bathed since monday, I cannot find the motivation to do so because i will clearly stink by the time I leave her. Its unavoidable. Did I mention she also cooks things like hotdog and califlower goulash?

- My favorite across the pond correspondent Lina wrote an interesting post about sexual power today. It really got me thinking. I think I may blog about this. Ive noticed some doubt being cast on my own personal power recently. Gret and I have talked about this and we are not sure where it came from. I plan to explore this further. Because it may surprise you to know this? But I think Im pretty darn powerful.

-Ive come to realize that in terms of child rearing, Norm responds best to positive reinforcement and turnip responds best to physical restraint.

Ok I feel the report inspiration coming upon me.......yes....right after i eat some cereal and check out CNN.

fulfilling my bloggerly duties

2007-08-08T07:19:00.001-04:00

This is so late and I am ashamed. Thankfully the entertaining and somewhat more responsible Ms. Trix triggered this because she just did it on her blog. My guilty pleasure blog friend Bunny tagged me for this as well. Cant star yours though ms. bunny because that was some mad alliterating baby.

It’s very simple. When this is passed on to you, copy the whole thing, skim the list and put a * star beside those that you like. (Check out especially the * starred ones.)
Add the next number (1. 2. 3. 4. 5., etc.) and write your own blogging tip for other bloggers. Try to make your tip general.

After that, tag 10 other people. Link love some friends!

Just think– if 10 people start this, the 10 people pass it onto another 10 people, you have 100 links already!

1. Look, read, and learn. *****-http://www.neonscent.com/
2. Be, EXCELLENT to each other. *****-http://www.bushmackel.com/
3. Don’t let money change ya! ****-http://www.therandomforest.info/
4. Always reply to your comments.**-http://chattiekat.com/
5. Develop your own "voice" don't "borrow" someone else's***-Mizmouthy
6. Always avoid awesomely annoying and aggravating alliteration. Bunny
7. Read your posts, not only for errors but for tone. Especially on controversial topics. Crse

ok i tag you! (sorry stealing trixie's cheat on this!)

At least im consistent

2007-08-05T22:11:00.000-04:00

If given the choice of taking advantage of a quiet house knowing i have to completely ~~make shit up~~ improvise a report by 9am tomorrow, will i a) eagerly forge ahead on the report, regardless of the fact that I CANT FIND THE DAMN DATA? or will i b) Decide to read the "words of the day" in the urban dictionary all the way back to january?
As if you needed an actual answer:
obvi im just slackalackin tonight. Standard. but dont worry this treewear gonna be sobangbang its out the cuts bro.

From Happy to Crappy

2007-08-05T12:37:00.001-04:00

No, Im not feeling crappy but it had a nice ring to it so I went with it. And this is not a post about shit (sorry to disappoint my more fecally oriented friends). Its about people who go crappy on you.

Why do crazy people "get away" with so much? Im not talking mental health consumers here who've actually sought out help. Im talking about how there is always that ONE person in every family or work environment (Madame Fabu, you know of whom I speak) who turns everything to crap. Seriously? Im talking about every asswipe (male or female) that makes your stomach sink when you know you have to see them. If you know much about the clinicality of the social being, you would define them as "personality disorders" or "Axis II". Now dont confuse this with people you might be pissed off at. Im generally pissed off at a lot of people who are not asswipes per se. But Ive noticed that I tend to get pissed off at non-asswipes that I don't know very well. If I know you well? And you are my people? I can put a positive spin on every thing you do. (I learned this lesson the hard way after jeopardizing friendships and being a jerk because I was so sure i was "right" and "being wronged" but I digress. And because I often inadvertently do crappy things to my friends and they never even call me on it) So get any random objects of your pissed-offness out of your head while you identify. I know you know what Im talking about here people. Go ahead, take a minute to summon your own personal asswipe *........

Image firmly in place? Good. Now tell me people. Why the hell do we have to act like nothing is wrong with these people? Why do they have a "get out of crazy/hurtful/spiteful/meanspirited behavior free" card? If these folks ever sought professional help, it only lasted until they were asked to take accountability for their behavior. Intellectually, I understand that "taking the high road" and "picking your battles" and even "biting your tongue" are all the right things to do. But dammit, Im sick of being an EMOTIONAL HOSTAGE. (writing that in big letters looks kind of stupid but its the only way I can effectively rant with satisfaction). Sometimes, I just want to know WHY CANT YOU JUST PLAY NICE WITH OTHER PEOPLE? Because thats what it always comes down to. Just please play nice. Dont be mean to children. Dont say and do things that would hurt your own feelings. Especially after you made the point of letting people know how much it hurts your own feelings when that thing happened to you. Because then you just look petty and cruel. Granted, this is probably not what many of you would want to say to your own asswipe, but the thing with asswipes is they wouldnt be asswipes if they werent such asswipes! Know what I mean?

Ok I feel much better now. And this friends is why I am in therapy. (Hey! That should be a label!)

Edited to add: As always if you are reading this blog, I don't mean you

my new happy place

2007-08-05T12:37:00.000-04:00

What is significant about this picture is that this is our own Luckybuzz holding both their hands after turnip yanked away from me so he could hold her hand. I almost cried. In the good way. I have so much to say about the visit but im a little too sad and almost forced Gospel Bob to gnaw off his own limbs to get away.

Crse and the horrible terrible no-good very bad day

2007-08-02T15:04:00.001-04:00

Trip Highlights:

-Arrived at fabu household at 930 on the dot. (as planned) Senor had gone to get the tickets for the park.

-940: Senor arrives with one ticket but a plan of action. We all load up ready to tackle the plan.

-10am: Drove to municipal building. They had three tickets. We needed 8.

-10:08am: Promised Norm that a sheetz breakfast was about to happen and that Sheetz was in eyesight range.

-10:12am: Drove to Credit Union as per muni recommendation while promising Norm that we were only feet away from the sheetz still.

-10:13am: Watched the "ticket team" walk out of the bank empty handed.

-10:14am: Stopped trying to convince norm we were going to eat and started whining along with him as we headed to triple A.

10:22am: Picked up a very disgusted Madame Fabu from the triple A parking lot as she informed us that we did get one more ticket but senor does not have his wallet and that we just needed to go to Sheetz.

10:30- Finally made it to sheetz where we hooked back up with the rest of the fabus and ordered our breakfasts. Personal breakfast consisted of a fruit smoothie, a banana and a little cup of cheerios. (this is foreshadowing)

10:40- Left Sheetz and finally were on our way.

10:50- Bad feeling in stomach. Gill must pull over.

10:51- Puked bananas and fruit smoothies on the side of the road.

10:53- repeat last two time-line entries.

10:56- On the road again!

11:10- Stopped by a corn field so Norm could pee.

11:30- Noticed our buick lesabre (aka mid-sized sedan of my dreams or simply "the mistress") was missing out.

11:30-12:15- Tense dialogue between Crse and Gill about what the Mistress wanted and how she was being handled. Crse ominously repeating "Mistress doesn't like it when you (fill in the blank as needed)...put the gas to the floor/speak roughly to her/ punch the steering wheel." Gill dismissing crse's warnings saying Mistress needed to learn her place while shifting gears in what can only be described as displeasing to her. Crse softly singing "She will turn your face to alabaster, when you find your servant is your master" as Mistress continues to stall more and more frequently.

12:15- Stop to pick up one of the few fun and pleasant extended family members from Senor Fabu's side. Norm pees again.

12:20- Continue to the waterpark noting that the engine "rest" did not improve Mistress's mood.

12:35: Almost got wiped off the freeway during a merge as Mistress would not accelerate above thirty miles per hour. Pulled over to side of freeway. Remind Norm, the screaming Turnip and Gill that this indeed is an adventure and all was ok.

12:36- Receive frantic call from the Fabus who realized we were gone. Thwarted an effort to switch and continue ahead with Madame and the fabulettes while senor and the children stayed with gill.

12:40- Gill returns to the car and accusingly asks when the last time the oil was changed. Crse counter-accuses Gill of confusing the issue. Gill notices oil sticker dated from last november. Crse tries to convince Gill she goes to a special guy who doesn't use stickers. Gill replies, "he must not use oil either because you are down two quarts." Norm attempts to restore harmony in the car "guys guys guys...we are in public". Crse apologizes for calling Gill a dickhead and Gill basks in the glory of knowing the Mistress's problems are Crse's fault.

12:41- Consult with Fabus about attempting to find a gas station at the next exit, refill oil and top off coolant.

12:42- Gill turns on HEAT FULL BLAST and rolls down windows claiming he was "cooling the engine" although everyone in the car knew he was punishing Crse for the oil transgression.

12:50- arrived at Sheetz (because it's everywhere you want to be). Crse takes children in to wash them off while Gill does required maintenance. Rendevous with Fabus who reaffirm that we are all ok and we were almost there.

12:55- Depart for a heat filled yet eventless ride to the waterpark.

1:30- Arrive at the gate of the waterpark to meet the rest of the folks in our party. Perhaps day would be ok after all. And it was until.....well just read on.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You met him as "The turnip" You knew him when he earned the nicknames "turnado" for his destructive tendencies and "nocturner" for his lack of sleep at night. Friends, with great alarm, he has evolved into what Madame Fabu has dubbed "The Turnimator".
Ill save you the stories of him attempting to belly flop in the pool and running into the street to the point that he's lost "outside privileges". Last night tops them all.

By around 730 all of the adults were quite pleased with how the children were handling the day. We had found a nice little niche where the turnip and the littlest fabu were riding a kiddie helicopter ride over and over again. It had gotten to the point that they didnt even have to get out because not that many kids were riding. I was extremely excited because the turnip showed none of the fear that his brother had at his age in terms of rides. He was delighted with everything and quite content to settle into the helicopters.

Now friends, the helicopters swooped. They went up around fifteen feet and then swooped back down in a circle. I believe the incident occurred around the eleventh time on the ride. I should have seen it coming when he tried to stand up before the ride started. I never imagined what would happen next. The ride was going around and Gill was watching while I faced the other way chatting with Madame Fabu. Im not sure if it was the collective gasp or if Gill said something but I turned around to see my baby in midair, climbing from the back seat of the helicopter to the front. I remember screaming. I remember Madame Fabu telling me that it was ok and that he was sitting down again. I remember the attendant with her hand over her mouth (clearly well-trained in emergencies, as well as the safety guidelines of proper buckling). I remember yelling "please stop the ride". I remember Gill dragging him out of the helicopter while the littlest fabu was looking at him with an "I wouldnt have even tried that one" look. And of course the turnip all the while is screaming with indignation. And that is how we left the park. So fifteen days into being two we've already also lost "kiddie ride privileges".

I just want to put him in a foam box until he is four and possesses reasoning skills.

Where the hell have I been?

2007-07-31T18:28:00.000-04:00

Ack. Family madness. we will leave it at that.

What do I have to report? Hmmm not much. We are on "vacation". Apparently when your children are small "vacation" does not imply relaxation. Instead we have a mad family fun week with the fabus planned. Tomorrow is a water park/amusement park. Thursday is the zoo. Friday is the lake.

You know its going to be a bad visit when the doctor asks your five year old if he eats healthy and he looks at you nervously.

I just baked cookies that melded together at the bottom of the pan. Am i going to throw them away? hell no. We will chop them with knives and we will eat them heartily.

McDonald's has consistently pissed me off these past few months. I have very low expectations to begin with so to disappoint me is difficult in terms of fast food. But they have done so. And verily I am pissed.

I really WANT to go to the fabus tonight for ribs and corn. I really NEED to clean and prepare for tomorrow. Ill let you know how that ends up.

We are getting a land line so I can fax things in accordance with new work requirements. Gill is pissed and wants me to "e-fax" although the land line is cheaper. I felt intimidated by e-fax anyway. He is calling me an idiot and deemed the extra cost an "idiot tax". Once again proving my point that I will endure about anything to get my own way.

I think we all know how bad i suck and how far behind i am. No need to beat it into the ground....

Here is the thing about rats

2007-07-25T01:55:00.001-04:00

*

The more I learn about rats, the more i want to like them. They are freaking BRILLIANT. Screw chimpanzees (monkey eating monsters that they are), forget about the gorillas (i dont mind gorillas per se, but lets face it. Intellectually, the gorilla is no rat). Its rats. According to those who know, pet rats are friendly, lovable, clean, smart and gentle. They are the ultimate pet. In some cultures rats are seen as sacred. They are thought to hold souls of those who've passed (I think). I embrace this rat reverence wholeheartedly. There is only one small problem.

RATS SCARE THE HELL OUT OF ME. I mean they HORRIFY me. And I am ashamed. Why must they be so appalling to me? Cognitively, I understand that rats did not cause the black plague. To be honest, I only have a vague idea of what the black plague is anyway. And Im not afraid of fleas. (I mean i dont want them or anything but they don't have what i like to call "the cootie effect" on me physiologically) So rats go through garbage looking for food. Dare I judge? I was actually physically inside a dumpster once many years ago pulling out discarded belongings left by a wealthy but frivolous woman. It was not my proudest moment but i still have a pair of sandals from that long ago foraging expedition.

I just stared at the screen debating whether I should share this next part but Ill tell you friends. This post is about healing. I need to be honest here. Because accepting that I have a problem is the first step to overcoming it right? You may find me repulsive after this. So be it. Go with God.

Sometimes? If I really dont want to eat something completely tasty but really bad for me, I spray it with windex after i put it in the trash. Because I am afraid I would be too tempted to pull it out and eat it. Who am I kidding sometimes? Ive been doing this my whole adult life. Ive been doing it so long that while I dont have any distinct memory of pulling food from the garbage, I obviously must have done or considered it at some point or there would be no need for windex. Dont judge me people. Im trying to build bridges here.

At this point in time, I cannot imagine getting past my revulsion. (And we ask ourselves, is it not a reflection of my own self-loathing? Perhaps....Perhaps) Thanks to everyone from the promoters of junk science to george orwell to the creepy acrobatic rat that appeared in the dumpster behind "the bar" many years ago (the same rat to whom I attribute the onset of my life defining existential crisis) I am scarred by the rat-hating culture that is the curse of my generation. I dont know if I can move past this. And I am ashamed.

Why do I tell you this friends? Because tonight friends? Tonight I took my boy to a movie and together we cried over the pain of a crazy little rat trying to make it in the big city. (ok I cried. He may have missed the deeper message of the film, but we were definitely together. Sharing popcorn.) My xenophobic speciesism needs to be crushed in the name of truth. I need to look deeply into my inner rat and learn to love and celebrate it.

Right now, it doesnt seem possible to move past this. But friends, last week I ate an onion**. A raw onion. And Im still here.

Yes, I ate a raw onion. And now I know that nothing is beyond my reach.

* I found the rat cartoon here. And I give my humble thanks.

** it has come to my attention that the phrase "ate a raw onion" implies that I ate a whole onion. In actuality I ate a small ring, a strand if you will. It was about the size of a nickel around. One Small Strand of Onion. One Giant Step for crse

I heart my in-laws!

2007-07-22T23:53:00.000-04:00

Well folks, we are back from the spreading of the ashes of the guy we never met, and let me tell you…its been a long strange trip. Do you know what is worse than not have internet in the mountains? Having constant live blog fodder and being powerless to blog. Ah well, at least I can offer you a retrospective in dashes:

- We stayed with gill’s aunt M and Uncle J. Aunt M did not seem happy to meet me but did tell me soon after to ignore the mess because “we might not be clean here but we are happy” (it really wasn’t that dirty at all)
- Her words actually made the whole stale cigarette smoke/really strong cat piss smell seem more pleasant than it normally would have been. Im not joking. (I think it only smells that way because they have three cats)
- Apparently, it is not customary in the clan of Gill to offer food or drink to anyone over the age of five, no matter how long you are planning on staying. Food is served at meal times but nobody offered me beer ever. I got one beer all weekend. The gill clan is totally a byob clan.
- Aunt M vacillated between totally awesome and a mean spiteful harridan. As you all know, this is exactly what I look for in a mother figure so I was right at home.
- Until she made me eat a raw onion.
- Yes you read that right.
- She made me eat a raw onion.
- She was like kryptonite to my pickiness powers. Id never experienced anything like it. And correct me if Im wrong faithful readers, but Im pretty sure Ive never wanted to punch a senior citizen before either. So that’s two first for crse right there….
- We slept in the family camper which was parked in the driveway. We shared these accommodations with Gill’s niece and nephew. I had thought it a bit unpleasant the first night as my pillow ratio wasn’t good and there were blanket issues (plus peeing outside).
- I felt particularly at home with the gentlemen who ended up being my Drunk Old Men Posse (DOMP) ( most of gill’s uncles and older male cousins). There were points throughout the trip when I was positive they were the only ones who liked me. (despite the byob crap)
- Turns out the first night was a fucking five star hotel compared to the second night which involved me needing to pee five times, the turnip waking up shrieking for an hour and a half at four am and the foul odor of sauerkraut that permeated the whole trailer because someone left a used crockpot right outside one of the windows. (I know that makes no sense. The weekend was kind of like that.)
- Gill completely bailed on me Friday and stayed in the camper until 530 with a “headache” leaving me completely alone with a group of people who knew me only as the woman who kept gill away from the family for 13 years. The DOMP spent a good deal of time during the day at some sort of “man club”. I missed them sorely.
- By 530 Friday, the only people being remotely pleasant to me were my father in law and a stinky cousin of gill’s who would have been somewhat attractive if he didn’t have that raging stench.
- Stinky has two iguanas and spent a great deal of time graciously attempting to enlighten me about these fantastic little wonders of nature.
- Im really scared of iguanas now.
- Stinky’s stench (or what gill and I now refer to as “the taint”) lingered in the oddest of places. I am still getting whiffs of it here and there. Its very disturbing.
- Kojak and Dolly both came through for me Friday evening. It was nice to have a relatively sober contingency.
- By Saturday I was talking trash playing cards with the DOMP and exchanging addresses and emails.
- I was also getting good gossip from Aunt M and the rest of the girl cousins.
- I developed a full scale loathing for a smarmy rotund man who thankfully was not related to “us” . I was excited to hear everyone secretly dislikes him too!
- The memorial on Saturday consisted of us all walking over to a tree and having the wheelchair bound aunt toss ashes from the dead uncle onto the tree. It was kind of odd because the ashes kept kicking up and she ended up getting them all over her. She did not seem bothered by this.
- I went from being ok with my own uncles to having two totally favorite uncles in law.
- My absolute favorite Uncle patted my ass when I left. He was drunk of course. I took this as a clear symbol that I had been accepted into the tribe.
- How can I not feel at home with anybody (read: my favorite uncle) who sets up a picture like this?

She is HERE!!!

2007-07-22T02:56:00.000-04:00

Born Monday July 16th (I forget what time), 7 lbs 11 oz, and twenty inches long and WAY BEAUTIFUL! go see her

Thursday Thirteen Camping Edition

2007-07-19T10:23:00.000-04:00

I know I should have blogged before about the trip and ONCE AGAIN Im so far behind on your blogs it breaks me heart! How do I even begin to tell you about the weekend. Chocolate Vodka, apple pucker and citron. Lots and Lots of junk food. Best summed up in a thursday thirteen to be sure:

1. It is very impolite to start eating other food when a group of people start to sing happy birthday to you.
2. It is even more impolite to interrupt someone who is spilling their heart out to borrow batteries because the confessor just looks so darn pretty in the firelight.
3. I have really really hot friends. Some of them like to be naked and some of them are happier leaving their clothes on. Im not naming names.
4. When bears attack, the important thing is to save the liquor. Then go for the electronics. But if you have to make a sacrifice, just save the liquor.
5. Gretty is very mean if you try to sleep in her bed. She is not too generous with the space and she pokes you everytime she hears you snore. If you sleep with gretty, you will spend a good portion of the night clinging to the edge of the bed trying to be quiet. On the other hand, you will have no qualms about posting pictures like this to pay her back:

6. Then again, my dearest friend Roxie did absolutely nothing to warrant the posting of this picture, but frankly i thought her pose was almost artistic, sort of like the demi moore cover of vanity fair. She is not puking, she is standing up from her piss.

7. Moe thinks that she is a bad bed mate because she snores. Moe's snoring did not keep me awake at all. However, she does flail around like a flamingo on amphetamines. But she does not poke you meanly when you snore. Which means she is a good room-mate. And does not get embarrassing pictures of her posted. Gretty.
8. Fire and toileting. My two very favorite things. Introducing the destroylet, a propane toilet:
I tried to get the flames but my timing was bad.
9. One thing I love about my friends is that we could all be sitting around and someone could blurt out something like "I have abnormal sexual thoughts about molesting kangaroos" (or something just as off the wall)and everyone will nod understandingly and no matter what it is, someone will jump in and say "Yeah that happens to me sometimes."
10. Why I will never make a successful vegetarian: "What is it that you don't like in the dish?" "Well, I think its the flavor that tastes like pre-digested vomit"
11. Feather is the absolutely perfect person to have around to deal with unsettling smells in the wild. For example, when i smell rancid chicken lard, she smells home cooking. When I smell what appears to be the result of bait and hot food stored too closely together, she smells home cooking.
12. Freaky step-ladders, lots of vodka, and bad knees do not a pleasant end of the evening make.
13. My wimmin rock ASS!!!!!

NOw Im off to the mountains again with my in-laws for some old fashioned ash spreading. (Im starting to think of gill's family as the folks who put the fun in funeral)

Happy birthday Turnip!!!

2007-07-18T22:22:00.001-04:00

I Love you soooo much. I am so grateful to have you as my son.

BAARSSS!!!

2007-07-16T15:58:00.000-04:00

Well friends, there are many pictures, stories, videos and other blackmail fodder from this weekend. As you can see, there was decadence abound. I learned a quite a bit about myself, my friends and nature this weekend. And now that we are safely home, I feel like I can safely say I really wouldnt have pulled a george costanza on the baby if the bears had come back and attacked us. Pitures will be on the way. Now, Im just happy to be home and alive and want to say MY FRIENDS ROCK HARD!!!!

Wild Weekend in the Wilderness

2007-07-13T11:54:00.000-04:00

Folks, Im goin' camping! (in the "staying at a cabin with beds, electricity a toilet and other required amenities" sense)Its an all wimmin weekend (Yeah thats crse with a y buster!) with seven of my closest friends from "back in the day". Most have them have been mentioned here before but in my typical "crse has to confuse the hell out of us" manner, i will change their names a year into my blog by letting them pick their own monikers because friends? Its gonna be a live blog weekend! Actually probably a check in between naps and drinking weekend but still hoping to provide my blog buddies with live action reports straight from the scene of what may well prove to be the highlight of this summer's ugly season. Stay Tuned.

Fucking Weasleys

2007-07-12T06:10:00.001-04:00

Im so sorry Lucy, Pippa and all my other beloved Potterheads. Its not them really. Its just that i surpassed my 10,000 visitor yesterday and I had been looking forward to it for soooo long. Guess what it was? AN IMAGE SEARCH FOR THE FUCKING WEASLEYS!!! Im getting tons of them! Yes they are cute, Yes I realize I scored them for the potter character(s) i would most likely sleep with. BUT ITS ALL ABOUT ME PEOPLE!!! (ok and gret too this week) Im going to delete that damm picture right now.

Because you cant possibly get enough of that crazy Gretty stuff:

2007-07-12T05:45:00.001-04:00

Thirteen Aspects Of Grettability:

1. She is an artist. She uses all sorts of mediums and her work is amazing. Its not just my bias. She actually sells her work for money. To strangers.
2. She and I both have undergrads in Religious Studies. We went to college at the same time, and had several mutual friends but our paths never crossed and we did not know each other then. (Granted I was on the tommy boy ten year plan, dropping out of school for reasons like I got good cable or was planning a road trip to Alaska with my friend J)
3. She went to Scotland to earn her master's degree.
4. She has been married twice but is not currently married at this point in time.
5. She was very alarmed to come home to a surprise party on a relatively recent birthday because at first she thought it was an intervention. (this makes me laugh every time I think of it)
6. She has a reputation as being a flake in certain circles but she has been one of the most consistently reliable people Ive ever dealt with on a daily basis.
7. She runs an unofficial flop house for animals. (although I think she is in denial about this. I think she thinks most people generally have foster dogs for months at a time.) Animals seem to have a sixth sense that she is a pushover.
8. She is amazing in times of crisis. I can even back that up statistically with the fact that she is 82% zombie proof.
9. She once spent a month in Russia.
10. She is extremely protective of her siblings, particularly her younger sister.
11. Meeting her, you would not think she would be good with children (no offense baby but need I refer to "the picture"? and BTW id do anything if you gave me permission to post that picture) but she really is sensitive to them and children tend to adore her. She is also completely neurotic about their safety.
12. She loved horses as a little girl. I used to have all kinds of theories about little girls who loved horses but she shattered them because she is not anything like what you'd think a girl who'd love horses would be.
13. When we are someplace and people mistake us for sisters, I never correct them because i am secretly really flattered by this, because she is really pretty and it would be so cool to be her sister.

BONUS GRETISMS: Two I forgot from yesterday.
(to my husband for making her late, by not getting home on time)(again, complete serious deadpan) If I had a dick, you would be sucking it all day long tomorrow.
(one day pensively) Sometimes I wish I had made the choice early on to really commit and dedicate myself to (and im thinking its career or self growth related) the path of hardcore alcoholism. Life would be so much simpler then. Still not enough Gret? Stay tuned....

Happy Birthday Gretty!

2007-07-11T08:30:00.000-04:00

Its Gretty's birthday! I have so many interesting current events things to post about but it took me TWO ENTIRE HOURS to catch up on your blogs friends! Rockdog was just talking about blogcrushes and my problem is im totally crushed out on every single blog i read. And I have to update my roll because there are more crushes that you might not even know about! Anyway, i digress, I want to dediate this to my darlin gretty. I cant even begin to tell you how much she means to me (although tomorrow should yield a "thirteen things about gretty" list). Ive actually been collecting quotes from her for a while to make a TT but my short term memory sucks so Im going to start posting them as they happen. And for her birthday, Here is a top ten of quotable Gret:

1. {Firmly, with indignation) There is no symbiotic relationship between the weasel and the human!
2. If that Microtel could talk…..
3. Yeah I went on quite the trampage around that time….
4. So my mom was up on vacation and she had the chickens with her of course.
5. (to norm) You need a shirt that says “Im a winner!”
6. (again to norm) Don’t blink the lights like that. You are going to trigger my sociopathy.
7. Most people would have crossed the line to creepy a long time ago. I like to think we are special.
8. (Dora saying “what was your favorite trick?”)(To dora) When you died.
9. He has tourette’s and before you get excited, its not the good kind.
10. Once I have steps, the only other thing Im going to need (my boyfriend) for is that second income!

Monday Musings

2007-07-10T12:13:00.000-04:00

Thanks for all your kind words friends. I am happy to say that after a particularly hellacious five days, chez panflutemaster has returned to "normal". Im woefully behind on the lives of all my friends in the blogoverse but I promise Im going to catch up soon! Typically, I silently hang my head in shame when Im this behind but my dearest Madame Fabu has seen better days recently (work is insane, car problems extraordinaire) and I wanted to give her a little something in case she gets over here for stress relief. (although last i heard she and senor were childless for the evening and engaged in some sort of clorox fuelled night of hi-jinx) So here are a few (very few) monday musings.

- YOU HEARD IT HERE FIRST FRIENDS: (I call you all as patent witnesses)Here is a brilliant idea for a product. You know how some people only like burnt potato chips? Well how about a brand of potato chips that are specifically burnt? Just Burnt Potato Chips. I think I would totally buy these chips. (I ate some burnt crackers today and while enjoying their tastiness, I could not help but think that this could really catch on. A whole cottage industry of ill-prepared yet tasty treats)

- During my seventy billionth viewing of Spongebob Squarepants this evening, I picked up an interesting little bit of trivia. At the beginning of the movie, as sponge bob prepares for what he expects to be a big promotion at the krusty krab, he alludes to his wall of pride which, as he reports, displays 375 consecutive employee of the month awards. Now I crunched the numbers friends.....sit down and take a deep breath.....it means that spongebob has been working in that restaurant for over 30 years! Granted, Im not sure if there is a human to sponge year ratio like we have with dogs, and no clarification appears to be available regarding bikini bottom labor laws, but if we translate this all to human equivalents? SPONGEBOB IS 47 YEARS OLD. The implications of this are absolutely mind boggling. Again, you heard it here first!

Sega and other clown dodgers, this is a clown alert!

- I know I have not spoken of "der kamp" in a while. I will tell you this. There is a HUGE difference between an american clown and the German KLOWN. And it aint just how you say the word my friends. (In case you are wondering, you say american clown like a little whiny whimper. The German Klown? You make that K HARD and you draw out the OW in klown. You let the n slide a little because you know what? The KLOW part is enough! Cant say that about american clowns now can ya?) I have heard the siren's call once again friends. Except this time, its not the tinkling song of the ice cream truck of my dreams allowing me to travel the open roads providing frozen sticks of happiness to all who cross my path. Now it is the life of the KLOWn that calls to me friends. Its a dream yes. But its a damn big one.....

ok again promise i will catch up soon!

A few promos:

-If you havent had the chance, track down Rockdog's webradio show It happens saturdays at midnight and i havent caught it yet, but hear tell its an uproariously good time.

- Speaking of Klowns, Mert has been nominated for class clown! And everyone who knows mert knows she has the heart of a German Klown friends. Go vote for her.

Go give some love:

-Gretty is celebrating her 40th birthday on Wednesday. Birthday wishes are welcome to be sure.

-My sweet little Ash is on her last few weeks of gestation. In Florida. In the summer. Cool breezes and comfort of all sorts would be welcome there im sure!

thats all i got, ill try to be better!

Edited to Add: So in perusing my sitemeter (or as i like to frame it: stalking my stalkers) I noticed Im getting all these hits for some google image thing from all over the country. I look into this a bit further and its THE DAMN WEASLY TWINS!!!! (Lucy just left me a funny message about her Harry Potter bedmate btw) I have not seen a single harry potter movie and I read one book (I LOVE YOU PIPPA DONT CALL THE WHOLE THING OFF!!!!) and found it....mediocre. Maybe its just late and Im just tired, but Im kind of amused by the thought of rabid harry potter fans ending up at the last possible place they will find dumblefuck (or whatever it is) information. Its the little things.....

No weasley's here

2007-07-05T19:10:00.001-04:00

Sorry folks, if you googled me for weasley's ive deleted them because i really have nothing harry potter to offer you here. The reason I show up on your search is because I scored weasley's for potter character id most likely bed down with...please feel free to stay and visit but i dont want to waste your time if you are on a weasley quest!

The shrieking and the wailing and the tearing out of the hair

2007-07-05T19:10:00.000-04:00

- The Turnip has had a double ear infection since tuesday night. Those three words do not begin to describe this experience to you. Its one of those things Im going to look back on and wonder how the hell we lived through it.

- Watched a documentary about the dark side of chimpanzees on the National Geographic on Demand channel. Friends, Im scared. And you should be too.

- Also watched the "Last King of Scotland" on Tuesday night. Interesting movie.

- Can't help but notice the "sick and recovering" Turnip's similarities not only to Idi Amin but also to a band of deranged chimpanzees. Sort of like if you can imagine a delusional vicious power crazed chimpanzee despot who consumes baby monkeys out of pure malice? That would be the turnip these last few days.

- I want to share happy things friends. Right now though, I hear his excellency moving around and I need to go hide in my room right now before Gill notices. He has not been properly traumatized and deserves to pay some damn dues.

Thank you all for the wonderful bloggiversary wishes. Im glad to know and share with all of you!!!

The final sixteen (well fifteen)

2007-07-03T17:11:00.000-04:00

Friends, you've been so patient. Im certain that every little bit you don't know about me tortures you night and day. I apologize.....

49. I cheated my way through three different typing classes without really learning to touch type. As it stands, I can type without looking but as soon as I think about it, I can’t do it anymore.
50. Although it is somewhat illogical, I made the realization this morning that although babies are good and Doritos are good, babies covered in Doritos cheese are gross.
51. I’ve been in therapy for ten years this fall and I still am completely amazed at what an idiot I can be.
52. I just rediscovered marshmallows covered in toasted coconut and they rock just as much as I remembered they did.
53. I am always suspect when a movie gets great reviews for being the “funniest movie of the season” when none of the trailers are funny at all.
54. If you add all the times Ive actually worn lipstick in my life together, at least half of those times involved me cleaning and finding a lipstick along the way.
55. I played corn hole for the first time of the season and once again realized that it STILL is a glaring metaphor for my life.
56. When I eat pizza, I rake off all the toppings and mop the extra sauce off.
57. I was a vegetarian for three horrific months in the mid 90s. I was so bitchy my supervisor BEGGED me to start eating meat again. I did. On Good Friday.
58. I am not crazy about dill pickles but I get them on sandwiches just so I can pick them off because I like the pickle flavoring.
59. I am the queen of snap judgments. Stupid little things can make me dislike someone. And Im generally wrong. I have a very dear co-worker friend who I despised at first because he did not fuss over my baby pictures when I met him. Turns out he was very overwhelmed as it was his first day. I still make him tell me how cute my children are on a regular basis though.
60. In my “break up letter” to my doctor, I ratted out the mean ladies on her staff. I feel good about it too.
61. I deliberately encourage mispronunciations in my children. I use the word “babbies” with the Turnip to talk about babies and tell Norm things happened before he was “boring”. (Come on people, its not worse than making them French kiss for my entertainment)
62. Although I love the show “My gym partner is a monkey” the main character, Adam Lyon is the whiniest, most annoying, entitled complainer I’ve seen on TV in a while. I think I watch just in case somehow he is mauled by the other animals.
63. I kind of wish I was not completely appalled by rats because they are fascinating and brilliant.

Now as my loyal readers may know already, tomorrow is my one year bloggiversary. Sooooo in honor of my very special day, YOU get to ask whatever question you want about me for the sixty fourth fact. I might not answer though :-)

Im back

2007-07-03T12:04:00.001-04:00

With apologies. And something to amuse yourself with while I work on my last 16 for my 64. I promise i will be a better blogger this week. On a positive note, I believe I made my bed every single day for a month...

Here is the first one (they are both stolen from the prolific Lina)

Am I arrogant much? Oh yes I am...

Your Vocabulary Score: A+

Congratulations on your multifarious vocabulary!

You must be quite an erudite person.

How's Your Vocabulary?

But on the positive side? Im filled with summery fresh goodness!

Your Scent is Strawberry

Fun, flirty, and fresh.
You're a complete sweetheart that makes everyone smile!

What's Your Girl Smell?

Im a little alarmed

2007-06-27T08:57:00.000-04:00

because I think I only scored this high because of my inordinate amount of non-perishables and my complete disregard for loved ones (which is actualy just realism when you think about it. How can any zombie attack not boil down to self-survival? The sooner we all realize that we can't save each other from the zombies, the longer we will all live)

57%

An early tuesday multiple choice guessing game

2007-06-26T02:13:00.001-04:00

The end of the fiscal year is five days away. You have made some progress on your notes but are not nearly done. You are attending clown camp every morning in addition to your regular schedule. (Did I tell you they are spelling it klown kamp? Probably not as this particular attempt at cutsie misspelling "triggers my sociopathy", as aunt gretty would say.) How do you handle your paperwork needs during your free time on the weekend? (choose all that might apply)

A: Sleep for an 18 hour stretch, thus allowing you to be up for 28 solid hours during which you may engage in the following:
B: Play Mah Jong for seven solid hours, goofing off yes, but at least the files are open in the event of an experience of unexpected motivation.
C: Clean and attempt to detail the car after two and half years of abuse and neglect because "it really needs done".
D: Actually write the notes.

If you guessed D? You need to be slapped. Since I cant rightly do that, Im sending you back to re-read this entire blog. You can take the test over again for half credit.

sixty four (part three)

2007-06-23T01:23:00.000-04:00

It takes a long time to find sixty four things Ive never told you folks about:

33. I picked a fight with my psychiatrist this week. I won. Hint: If you ever want your medication upped and your psychiatrist won’t do it? Pick a fight.
34. I also got dissed by the clowns who will be running next week's clown camp. I think they were jealous.
35. The best sentence I heard this week was: “Maybe German clowns don’t wear underwear.”
36. I. LOVE. MY. DOG.
37. I don’t think I like the woman who sets appointments at my new doctor’s office. She seems a little mean.
38. I am joining a kickball team in the fall and I am BEYOND excited about it.
39. For the first time in my entire life I said the phrase “When I clean tonight, it will make me feel better.” I’m cleaning to make myself feel better now. And still, I continue to make my bed.
40. Gret and I solved an impossible problem tonight using our own brawn and brains. I felt extremely empowered after this happened.
41. The concept of the “forever” stamp boggles my mind.
42. Despite the clown dissing, I still managed to wangle my way into clown camp every single day next week. I will woo the clowns back. Im sure of it.
43. I found the most alarming insect-ish like creature in my bathtub last night. No make that this morning at 3am. I almost shit myself. (Fortunately I was on the toilet) It had an inordinate number of legs, but less than a hundred. I just saw another one in my garage a few minutes ago. I am kind of freaking out.
44. After finding this alarming creature, I could not go back to sleep and have the creepy crawlies even still.
45. Psychological breakthroughs are very draining sometimes.
46. I love Perry Mason but I hate every single minute the jackass who played Laura’s husband on Little House On The Prairie is on screen. I have no idea why he is a romantic lead. He is gross and sexist and stupid.
47. I think Im going to buy a pool and surprise Gill. (It needs to be a surprise since he does not know how much he wants a pool yet) Im sure he is going to be very happy.
48. I like pie.

i think its because ive mentioned bewbies.

2007-06-19T22:14:00.002-04:00

Stolen directly from the woman who hides her smut well at Polyopia and indirectly from the teasingly naughty Ms. Trix :

Mingle² - Free Online Dating

Im proud to be restricted to children under 17. Makes me feel dirty in a very good way!

sixty four (part two)

2007-06-18T22:25:00.000-04:00

Ok folks, here are the next sixteen. Did I ever tell you folks that I have the most kind and indulgent readers on the planet here at my blog? You guys rule for humoring me like this!

17. I knew how to read by the age of two. I read like a fiend until after college. Now i dont have time but I still love a good book.
18. When I was thirteen, my mother put me on diet pills. As a result, I became super moody, lost all my friends, and never slept (which in turn led me to know by heart almost every song from the spring and summer of 1984).
19. Im so clumsy and chaotic that my friends used to say my native american name was "One who grapples with her physical surroundings".
20. When something goes wrong in the car, I try very hard to ignore it and hope it gets better. This includes but is not limited to turning the radio up loudly so I dont hear bad noises. You'd be surprised how often the car does seem to heal itself.
21. I don’t really care for corn flakes. I don’t like how they get soggy. Thus, I don’t like frosted flakes either since the milk washes the frosting off and you really just end up with soggy cornflakes at the end.
22. I’m a HORRIFIC trash talker when I play games. Norm will not play board games with Gill and me together because of the last time we played chutes and ladders….I can say no more.
23. The only make-up I wear consistently is eye liner. I feel naked without it.
24. For some reason, buying tissues for my home always seemed like a complete extravagance. About two years ago, I actually priced them and realized that I could probably afford to spend the twelve bucks a year and bring the luxury home to my family.
25. I never wanted a horse. Even as a little girl, I was not that interested in horses.
26. I was voted employee of the month two years into my first job. I was such a slacker that they changed the policy after this happened because management wanted to communicate that “employee of the month shouldn’t be a popularity contest”.
27. I was robbed at gunpoint at my second job. (it was a convenience store) I didn’t think it bothered me but had nightmares for years afterwards.
28. I keep noticing these lines underneath my eyes. I keep meaning to figure out what they are but then I forget about them as soon as Im not looking in the mirror anymore. They aren’t quite wrinkles. I actually don’t know what the hell they are.
29. The Turnip’s middle name is Aloysius.
30. Despite the fact that my bedroom is completely dark and our large dresser is in front of the only window, I actually prefer to have doors and windows open in the summer. Central air makes me feel Howard Hughes-ish and not in a good way.
31. I am terrified of becoming one of those middle aged women who have heinous hair and make up but somehow still think they are stylish. If Im going to be hideous looking, I don’t want to put any effort into creating some horrific caricature of myself through hair styling and make up.
32. I am going to take a shower right now.

Im a crappy daughter

2007-06-18T13:13:00.001-04:00

There were a lot of good Dad (and anti dad) posts in my blogs this weekend and I have the rockinest dad ever and i should have posted good things about him. He is kind of hard to explain on paper though! Think retired truck driver who works at a golf course. He is crusty but a total cream puff for his kids. (particularly his only daughter) I need to make a list about my dad. Ill get to that right after I finish my sixty four. In my defense, we did have him over for dinner and actually watched the last hour of the US open with him. (yes the only time i watch sports is with my dad. See? Im not such an awful daughter!) I did however re-read his card after he opened it and was mortified because it was a lot lamer than i remembered when i bought it. He disagreed and told me it was very sweet and gave me a big hug. See? Awesome dad!
Ok just wanted to make sure everyone knows my dad totally rocks.

Sixty Four

2007-06-16T10:17:00.001-04:00

My good friend Crawlspace (whose bloggy insanity keeps me youthful and refreshed) laid a smack down challenge by tagging me back 8 times for 8 random facts. Granted, crawlspace is quite easily distracted (not to mention his 8 random facts were a narrative of smashing a bug in his living room) so Im certain Id never be held to this challenge, but how the hell can I pass up the opportunity to share sixty four delightful tidbits of ME??? Oh I couldnt do that to you dear readers. I will present 3 sets of 16 however, to maintain your attention and focus throughout the facts. (you never know when I might pirate the idea of the lovely and creative Ms. Trix and throw a pop quiz at you!) The rules are I am not tagging anyone for this. I understand that not many of you are this delighted with yourself to this degree of self-absorption. Ok enough preamble. Lets move on to ME!

1. I seldom if ever use phonebooks.
2. My handwriting is atrocious. It is small and illegible. If I write bigger, my scrawl starts to resemble the the type of print you see in psychotic abduction notes. I type whenever I can.
3. I made my bed five days in a row this week. That is more consistent bedmaking than Ive done in my entire life.
4. My insecurity about leaving my children to have "grown up time" is growing unmanageable. Im finally realizing that.
5. Ive recently developed an unhealthy affinity for cream filled donuts. I never cared for donuts until recently. Why it couldnt be bran flakes or vegetables i don't know.
6. I think I have an ear infection. I am afraid to seek treatment because of the breaking up with my doctor issue.
7. I only get my hair cut about three times a year. Unfortunately its obvious.
8. I've purchased three shovels within the past week. Ive also purchased lime and dried blood. Im trying to decide whether the creepy part of gardening is exciting me more than it should be.
9. Deliberately misspelled to be unusual names piss me off. Not variations but deliberate misspellings make me psychotically angry.
10. I cannot drink directly out of glasses in restaurants. There must be a straw is involved.
11. Along the same lines, I could give you more details on this but I will summarize by saying I am NOT fun to wait on in a restaurant because of my "high needs" but Im pleasant and a good tipper.
12. Im realizing that I sound a lot like this guy:

13. I recently psychosomatically created the symptoms of what I thought end stage diabetes would be in terms of my extremities. As soon as I learned my idea of the symptomology was not accurate the symptoms disappeared.
14. Along the same lines, even though I have a difficulty time with disfigurement, as soon as I find out a missing limb is related to diabetes, the particular limb (or lack thereof) becomes an exception to my limb (or lack thereof) aversion problem.
15. During foreign movies, Gill and I read the subtitles out loud in goofy accents at home. We do not have the attention span to do this throughout the movie nor the guts to do it at the theater.
16. I talk incessantly throughout movies. Imagine MST3k . (but probably not as funny except in my own mind).