Friday, February 26, 2010

Friday Flashback: Protein Comes in Many Forms

This afternoon, in a Theraflu-induced stupor, I accidentally ate a bowl of chicken noodle soup. I say accidentally because; I am observing the Lenten ritual of meatless Fridays and, the last time I checked, chicken was a form of meat. Whoops.

 As I said, I blame the Theraflu.

In an effort to redeem myself, I have managed to avoid meat for the remainder of the day and, for dinner tonight, I will be eating a salad which, reminds me of the time that I was hugely pregnant with The Teenager and, craving a salad from the local supermarket salad bar.

Being a good sport about my cravings, Hugh drove us to the supermarket and patiently waited as I assembled the perfect salad; he even had the good grace to look the other way when I spooned crumbled blue cheese over the entire thing plus a ladle-full of blue cheese dressing, nor did he bat an eye at the mega-pile of croutons I casually tossed on top (I was eating for two!).

Once we got home, I made myself comfortable on the couch, balancing the salad container on my (sizeable) belly and, went to town. Midway through the salad, I took a bite of something crunchier and more bitter than I expected, chalked it up to a healthier than usual piece of arugula and continued shoveling the salad into my pie-hole.

Hugh asked me a question a few seconds later and, I paused with the fork midway to my mouth to answer him. When I happened to glance down at the fork seconds before placing it in my mouth again, I saw this

waving its’ antennae at me from a blue-cheese coated leaf of lettuce.

Only, due to its’ proximity to my face, it looked more like this

Which is when it dawned on me that, the unusually bitter and crunchy piece of arugulaI had just swallowed was probably nothing of the sort but, instead; a cousin or other kissing-kin of the humongous bastard insect upon my fork.

There was screaming and, I’m not too proud to admit; some vomiting.

WhileI did eventually get over the avoidance of salads born that day, I never quite got over my distrust of salad bars in general and now prefer to make my own salads at home. Also, if I ever think about how well I would do on Survivor, I need only recall the taste and sensation of biting into that creepy green bastard and I have no doubt whatsoever that I would royally suck at the food challenges.

So, no Survivor in my future, obviously.
I Feel Shitty, Sung to the Tune of I Feel Pretty from the Musical West Side Story

I feel shitty, oh so shitty! So shitty and awful and baaaad

I have a chest cold which, in a chest as large as mine, is a pretty rotten thing. I have a sore throat, am coughing up large pieces of what I am hoping is phlegm but, in all honesty, could be the lining of my lungs and; the fluid in my chest actually bubbles when I take in a deep breath. The skin around my nose is raw and chaffed from blowing and my eyes are glassy and gummy at the same time.

I am a biological freak show. And, pretty. Oh, so pretty.

And, probably contagious which means that I should do our employees a favor by staying away from them for the duration of my illness; preferably on a tropical island with a drink in my hand, a drink served in a hollowed-out coconut with a colorful umbrella.

Or, you know; I could make a comfy little spot on the couch and drink Theraflu from a mug with a chipped rim. Either way.

Unfortunately, neither scenario will work out for me today because I have work to do at the store. Tomorrow isn't looking too good for rest and recuperation either; the Man-Cub has his first wrestling tournament and my pee-wee wrestler wrangling skills are required.

So, I will just have to pull on my big girl panties and deal with it, starting with an hour and a half massage later this afternoon, a shot of Nyquil prior to bedtime tonight and some Baileys in my coffee tomorrow morning.

So, yeah, I feel shitty, oh so shitty! So shitty and awful and baaad

Also, I cannot carry a tune when I’m healthy so, you can imagine how badly I am singing now.

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Free At Last, Free At Last! Thank God, I'm Free at...Oops! Not So Fast

The baseball Board of Directors recruitment blitz was a success; several new members joined our group and I was finally able to resign my position at tonight’s meeting. While I will no longer be required to attend every meeting, registration event, fundraiser and work session, I will still volunteer a fair amount of time as a Team Mom which means; I will still be expected to stir a crock-pot of neon colored faux cheese on occasion.

I can live with that.

Naturally, once I announced my release from indentured servitude and all the extra free time that entailed; The Teenager informed me that she was interested in playing AAU basketball. Bye, Free Time! It was nice meeting you, briefly.

To recap: Time gained by leaving the Baseball Board minus time spent in the bleachers watching league basketball multiplied by the number of hours spent in the gym watching wrestling tournaments plus the Sundays spent on the road with the volleyball team equals no additional free time for Mommy.

On the other hand, we will be getting our money’s worth out of the $70 stadium seats purchased from the High School Booster Club last spring.

Glass half full and all that crap.

Tuesday, February 23, 2010


Fourteen years ago at this time, I was in a hospital bed getting acquainted with my brand new daughter. I had labored with her for the better part of thirty-six hours and was exhausted and exhilarated at the same time. As I held her soft weight in my arms, I marveled at the perfection of her tiny nose, her bow-shaped mouth and her delicate eyelids, fringed with lashes so thick and long; a super-model would weep with envy.

She was not yet two hours old and, already, I had promised her the world or; as much of it as I could possibly give her. I promised to be her biggest fan, staunchest ally, best friend, most aggressive defender and most constant support.

In return, she cracked open one eyelid, yawned and filled her diaper with a biological specimen worthy of a much larger child and, just like that; the adventure began.

Today, I kidnapped that baby from school and took her out to lunch and on a shopping spree at the mall. We enjoyed a relaxed day together and, just like I did fourteen years ago, I marveled at her perfection. I told her how proud I am of her accomplishments, how much I enjoy the person she is becoming and how grateful I am to be her mother.

In return, she cocked one eyebrow and snorted in disgust.

It was like déjà vu.

Minus any sign of biohazardous materials in her underwear.

Thank god.

Monday, February 22, 2010

Dear Winter,

Your diabolical plan to ruin my weekend by dumping six inches of snow on our area was an epic failure.

 Sure, the Man-Cub and I weren’t exactly thrilled about having to shovel the driveway (twice) since Hugh was in Denver at the state wrestling tournament and, no, my parents didn’t exactly love driving through near white-out conditions to reach us but; they made it here and we had a great weekend despite your antics.

In fact, it was one of the best weekends we have had in a while and, not just because The Teenager’s basketball team won their end-of-season tournament in a nail-biter of a game that came down to a final free-throw to win it, although; that was pretty damn sweet.

We also braved the ice and snow to drive to Neighboring City for her volleyball tournament on Sunday and, while they didn’t win there, the team certainly kept us all entertained, especially when they were pitted against the only boy’s team in attendance and made comical use of their feminine wiles to distract them from their game play.

And, while their efforts at distraction by flirtation may not have exactly proven successful, they certainly had a good time trying and, made a few new friends in the process.

Also, your late-afternoon hissy-fit mountain blizzard failed to prevent Hugh from traveling back from Denver in time to join us for the final volleyball game or from joining us for dinner at The Olive Garden so; I do believe your efforts were futile this weekend.

And, if my parents can’t make it home today because you have screwed up the roads between here and Mayberry, the joke is on you because; we’d rather they stay, anyway.

So, take that, winter!

Suck it!

Friday, February 19, 2010

Friday Flashback: Flintstones Chewables Do Not Belong in a Pez Dispenser

Many afternoons of my childhood were spent at my friend, Nancy Rominger’s , house, jumping on her trampoline or playing in an old fishing boat that had been permanently dry-docked in her parents’ garage.

One of our favorite games, whether on the trampoline or in the boat, was a game we made up and which we called Jaws, in honor of the movie of that same title.

The game was simple, one of us was the shark and one of us was the poor sucker who was doomed to fall off the boat, right into the gaping jaws of the Great white. Blood-curdling screams and shrieks of faux-pain featured heavily in the game and, even though neither of us had actually seen the movie; we were confident that we had the story down right.

When I was nine or ten, the movie was finally scheduled for network television release and, I was stoked. Not only had I read the book (discovered in a cardboard box at a yard sale, twenty-five cents!) but; I had the game and, despite a love-hate relationship with the rubber bands operating the hinges on the shark’s jaws (things were a bitch to hook on), I was an expert at retrieving objects from the inner most depths of that plastic shark’s belly.

I was a fan of Jaws, is my point.

The show aired on a Saturday which was, coincidentally, my mother’s grocery shopping day. On that particular Saturday, my mother made an unusual purchase; Flintstone’s Vitamins. I had never had Flintstone’s before, actually, I had never taken any type of vitamin supplement before so; I was understandably intrigued by the bottle of tiny cartoon characters and, I ate one.

And then, another.

And, I sorted the characters into piles; Fred here, Wilma there, Pebbles and BamBam together (the way they were meant to be) and Dino off to the side. I counted each pile, I acted out several scenes from the cartoon, using the appropriate characters and, little by little, I consumed the entire bottle of vitamins.

Not being completely stupid, I hid the empty bottle from my mother and went about preparing my space on the living room floor for the showing of Jaws.

Opening credits rolled.

A naked lady entered the surf.

A fin sliced through the inky glass surface of the water.

Dun, dun. Dun, dun, dun, dun….

My meddling sister discovered the empty vitamin bottle and totally narked me off to my mother who flew into a panic, called the doctor and, upon hanging up the phone, informed me that I was, and I quote; GOING TO DIE.

Unless…I threw up the vitamins immediately which, didn’t take a great deal of effort given how freaked out I was about the whole DEATH IS IMMIMNENT thing.

To make a long story short (too late!), I spent the remainder of the evening hunched over the bathroom toilet, spewing psychedelic colored Flintstones’ chum into the abyss.

When my mother was satisfied that I had purged the entire contents of my stomach, if not the entire contents of the vitamin bottle, she calmly informed me that she had lied; I wasn’t likely to die. On the other hand, she said, I had learned a valuable lesson.

And, she was right, in fact, I learned two:

1. Medicine is not to be eaten like candy.

2. Fear is a powerful motivator.

For the record, it would be years before I saw Jaws in it’s’ entirety.

Also, for the record, the smell of Flintstones vitamins makes me nauseous to this very day.

Thursday, February 18, 2010

I Wonder If Muzzling the Children Would Be Considered a Chargeable Offense

I should probably check with my girlfriend, who works for Social Services, to be sure. In the meantime, surely a little duct tape couldn’t hurt, right? I mean, I’m trying to watch Survivor and The Teenager will. Not. Shut. Up.

So far, I have heard every detail of every offense given her today (Meeelions), a replay of each conversation she had, in its’ entirety and; I have been forced to listen to a running dialogue between her and her brother who, come to think of it, is also quite the chatty Cathy this evening.

Ordinarily, I love conversing with my offspring. I welcome animated exchanges with them and can be counted on to hold up my end of the conversation but, right now; me no want talkie-talkie!

So, yeah, muzzling; pro or con? Discuss.

But, quietly; I am watching Survivor.

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Stuff and Nonsense

-Today is the first day of Lent and, thus far, I have denied myself a Three Musketeers bar, a pecan brownie from Starbucks, a six-pack of puffy frosted sugar cookies, a bag of chocolate-covered cinnamon bears (Ah. Mah. Gawwwwd, they are the best), a chocolate-chip muffin and an IV bag of liquid chocolate on a slow drip.

-My willpower is admirable.

-Ok, the IV bag was going too far as I’m not a fan of needles.

-Although, ask me again in 39 days; intravenous chocolate might not seem quite so absurd at that point.

-Hugh left for Denver today to referee at the State wrestling tournament. The children and I are on our own which means we are eating leftovers from Tupperware containers; on the couch.

-Don’t tell Hugh, he would have a minor conniption fit over food in the living room (buzzkill!)

- I finally got around to watching The Time Traveler’s Wife on DVD.

-Am now rereading the book in an effort to erase the craptastic images of the movie from my head. Not quite certain I can ever repair the damage but, I’m trying.

-Just saw a teaser for the new season of Glee. Peed my pants just a little; I blame the excitement. And, childbirth.

-Am going to bed early tonight to avoid the kitchen from which the last of the Girl Scout Thin Mints are calling my name.

-Am predicting a loooong 40 days and nights.

-Which was also a craptastic movie, by the way.

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

And I Thought My Fat Cells Were Tenacious

Quitting the Youth Baseball Board of Directors at last night’s meeting didn’t go exactly as I had planned and, by that I mean; I totally got suckered into staying on the Board. I am resigning from the office of Secretary, however. Really, I am; just as soon as I find someone to replace me. Conservative estimates place the prospect of that happening anytime soon at around zero percent.


In defense of my seeming inability to say no when asked to do unpleasant tasks, I will mention that; without the efforts of me and three other Board members, the baseball program would go away. That said; we all realize how imperative it is that we recruit some new blood onto the Board and, we are attempting just that. Unfortunately, it’s really hard to find people who are willing to volunteer their time.

People willing to bitch about the program, however; we got plenty.

Funny how that works, isn’t it?

Ok, enough bitching; how about I whine, instead?

Tomorrow is the first day of Lent and, as usual, I am giving up chocolate. However, in a surprising twist, I am also giving up candy in general. And, cookies. And donuts. And pretty much everything in the kitchen that makes life worth living. It’s going to be a challenge but, I can do it.

And, if the dedication I show to my religion has the additional benefit of finally shaving some of the fat off my ass well, then; what a happy happenstance.

Really, not diabolically and methodically planned at all. Not at all.

Monday, February 15, 2010

Tenacity is an Admirable Trait. Except When It Applies To One’s Fat Cells

I may have mentioned a time or two that I have been running. I may have bragged a little bit about how I am up to three and a half miles and about how it no longer hurts. Well, one thing I won’t be bragging about anytime soon is about how much weight I have lost thanks to all that running because, people? That would zilch, nada, zip and; I hardly think failure is worth bragging about.

What. The. Hell?

I’m eating right. I’m getting plenty of rest. I’m taking my vitamins and drinking my water and working out with weights and, obviously, there is all that running and yet, the scale, it is not moving. Whyyyy??? (She wailed, shaking her fist at the heavens).

It’s almost enough to make me chuck it all out the window and dive, face-first, into a vat of Ben & Jerry’s (Phish Food because, well, marshmallow crème, caramel swirl and fudge fish, like duh) but! I will not. I will persevere and, even if the scale never moves, I will have the satisfaction of knowing that I am depriving my fat cells of additional ammunition to use against me (like they need my help). I will continue to run, not just to lose weight but because I am starting to enjoy it (I KNOW!) and because, eventually, something’s got to give.

(Please not my knees, please not my knees)

On a completely different topic, I had one of the nicest weekends yet this year.

Friday evening, Hugh treated me to a one and a half hour facial with my pocket-pal aesthetician, Serena and; it was heavenly. I left the spa feeling as relaxed as an al dente noodle and, I didn’t even have to make dinner because Hugh had that all under control, too.

Although I did a little light housework on Saturday, it didn’t feel like a chore and, on Sunday, Hugh made French toast for breakfast while I surfed the internet on The Lazymaker from the comfort of the couch. I didn’t have to lift a finger for most of the day, except for the brief time I spent in the kitchen preparing chili and heart-shaped cornbread muffins.

It was a really nice way to decompress and to gear up for a busy week; one that kicks off with my last meeting of the Youth Baseball Board of Directors (I’m quitting! Or, stepping down, if you will) and which culminates in a weekend visit from my parents who are making the trip over the mountain to watch The Teenager play basketball on Saturday and volleyball on Sunday.

Plus, I need to get a run in every other day because; even though my fat cells haven’t quite figured it out yet, I am gunning for them and they are doomed.

Like I said, tenacity is an admirable trait.

Friday, February 12, 2010

Friday Flashback: Will You Be My Valentine?

The Man-Cub’s class celebrated Valentine’s Day yesterday and, apparently, fifth grade doesn’t really rock the Valentines celebration quite as hard as say, third grade because; my heart-shaped sugar cookie-baking skilz were not called into action. I’m trying really hard not to be sad about that since this is the Cub’s last year in elementary school and all but, I cannot tell a lie, sniff, sniff….I’M SO SAD.*

Despite his party being sans puffy heart-shaped sugar cookies, the Man-Cub had a good time. He handed out special Valentine Ring Pops and hauled in quite a few sappy missives as well as more than a couple of packets of Fun Dip and, honestly, I doubt he missed the cookies at all (TRAITOR!).

I can’t really blame him; when I was a kid, I loved school Valentines parties, too. I loved the sweet chalkiness of conversation hearts and the intense cherry flavor of heart shaped suckers; I took immense pleasure in running my tongue over BE MINE in frosted raised lettering and in chewing the stick into mush at the end while perusing my stack of hand-written love notes.

Plus, when else in life can you make a suitable mailbox using a stack of pink, red and white construction paper, a tub of paste and a Life cereal box?

Never, that is when.

I could wax nostalgic for Valentines past all day but, I need to run to the store to pick up something sweet for my current Valentines because, while I learned a lot in elementary school; I apparently never learned not to leave things to the last possible minute.

Here’s hoping there is at least one heart-shaped box of chocolates left on the shelf.

*In the interest of full disclosure, I should mention that the bulk of my sadness may result from my recent decision to give up sweets, including puffy heart-shaped cookies drizzled with icing and sprinkled with candy confetti. Mmmm……candy confetti…arrrgggg...

Thursday, February 11, 2010

Wow. This Might Actually Be Worth Watching

The first episode of the new season of Survivor-Heroes vs. Villains- just kicked off and, already, we have a dislocated shoulder, a broken toe and a bikini top being ripped from someone’s body. Dare I hope this is only the beginning of a decent season or should I brace myself for the inevitable moment when it all goes south?

Time will tell, I guess.

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

In which I Get an A+ in Sniveling

Hugh and I attended the Man-Cub’s Parent/Teacher conference this afternoon and I’m pleased to report that all went well.

Not that we’ve ever had a really bad conference but, as a parent, I think you are always mentally prepared for the moment when a teacher looks you in the eye and tells you that your child is stupid/behaviorally challenged/potentially homicidal and that it is all your fault for skipping your prenatal vitamins/drinking Diet Pepsi/ jumping on a trampoline during your pregnancy.

Or, maybe that’s just me.

Anyhoodle, the Cub is quite well-liked by his teacher as well as by the student teacher working in his classroom this semester and, his grades are all A’s and B’s which means we dodged the stupid/behaviorally challenged/potentially homicidal bullet this go round, whew!

Following the Cub’s conference, I attended The Teenager’s CAP (Career/Academic Planning) meeting; she is now officially signed up for her Freshman courses; the jury is still out on whether or not she is mentally and emotionally prepared for High School, however.

I, for the record, am in no way, shape or form mentally or emotionally prepared for her to enter High School but, I’m hiding it well and, by well, I mean I am only weeping at intermittent intervals now rather than at every mention of

a) High School

b) Her 14th birthday later this month

c) Her desire to attend a college with a really good cafeteria

I’m pretty sure I’ll pull it together before the first day of high school, though.

The Man-Cub’s first day of High School.

Tuesday, February 09, 2010

Some Days I Am Brilliant. Other Days, Yeah…Not So Much

I am up to three and a half miles on the treadmill. I run at a steady 5 mph pace for thirty-five minutes and then walk for another five minutes to cool down. I no longer want to kill myself when I wake up the morning after a run and my shins no longer throb with pain.

I think I’m getting the hang of this running thing, is what I’m saying.

Granted, my ass still looms large over my ankles and that extra roll on my stomach is still hitching a ride but, I console myself with the thought that I am trying.

Also, while I have yet to experience the elusive “runner’s high” that all the cool kids keep talking about; I do experience a brief moment of perfect clarity right around mile marker 2. For instance, yesterday, while running and listening to my iPod, I realized that the correct lyrics to The Pussycat Dolls When I Grow Up include the words “I want to have groupies”. Not, “I want to have boobies”.

See? Clarity.

Also, how embarrassed am I that I have been singing “I want to have boobies” this whole time?

In other embarrassing news, last night I got dressed up and prepared to head out to a girlfriend’s house to pick her up for book club. I needed some clarification on the directions to her house so, I called her which is when she gently informed me that book club is next month.

I am genius; do you hear me, MENSA?


Monday, February 08, 2010

Occasionally, the Movie Is Better Than the Book

Case in point: Dear John.

Jana and I took the girls to see the movie Saturday night. The book, by Nicholas Sparks was, in my estimation, meh. And, by meh, I mean; oh look, another Nicholas Sparks novel that ends in tears. The movie, while hanky-worthy, was far less depressing and, not just because Channing Tatum is ridiculously good looking, although; Channing Tatum is ridiculously good looking.

Our weekend was pretty busy; besides going to the movies, we attended The Teenager’s volleyball tournament on Sunday. The girls played really well, and, while they didn’t place in the top three this time, they had fun and, we got to leave the gym before the sun set. In fact, we got home early enough to watch some movies from our Netflix list as well as to make fun of Hugh for incorrectly identifying a gothic kid in one of the shows as “emu” rather than emo. For the record, The Teenager had to excuse herself to use the bathroom, she was laughing so hard at her father’s gaffe and, also for the record; we both fully intend to tease him about it for the remainder of his life.

We're sweet like that.

Tonight, I am headed to my first meeting of a book club that I have been invited to join. This month's selection was a collection by Maya Angelou and, if I'm being completely honest; it wasn't one of my favorites. Also, I'm guessing; it wouldn't make a very good movie.

Even if it starred Channing Tatum; there are just some things that pretty can't fix.

Friday, February 05, 2010

This One Time, At Band Camp...

I read a lot of blogs and online diaries, probably many more than I should read considering that there is work to do and all but, no one is perfect, right?

My point, and I do have one, is that I really enjoy reading about other people. I like to peek inside the private universe in which they live and to compare and contrast my experiences, thoughts, and feelings with those of the writer. I especially enjoy reading about people’s childhoods and formative experiences because they often serve as reminders of my own past.

And, I like being reminded of my history, as I think most humans do.

So, to get to my next point, I have decided to set aside my own day of recollection. I am going to call it my Flashback Friday and, while I might not trip down memory lane every Friday, I will make a point of trying. Sometimes, it will be quite entertaining like, say, the time I set my mother’s kitchen on fire when I got distracted by a soap opera while frying eggs for breakfast during summer vacation. Sometimes, it might be sad, like the time I tore the ass out of my brand new jeans, the cute ones with the roller skate decal on the back pocket…man, I loved those jeans.

You get the point.

Anyway, today is Friday but I need to cut this short as I am leaving for the store in just a couple of minutes (there is work to be done and all) so, here goes a short flashback:

When I was a junior in high school, I cheered for the varsity wrestling team. During one of the matches that I was cheering for, our wrestler had his arm dislocated right in front of me. I can still remember the popping noise that it made and the groan that the wrestler made. The noise that the shoulder made when the coach snapped it back into place was not exactly pleasant, either.

Who wants to guess what I will be thinking about every time the Man-Cub takes to the mat this season?

Huh. Maybe Flashback Friday isn’t such a whippy idea, after all.

Thursday, February 04, 2010

Give Me a P! Give Me an M! Give Me an S!

What’s that spell? Possible Murderous rage coming Soon! Goooo….monthly cycle!

I would seriously knock over a Girl Scout for a thin mint right about now but, I had a full day and am exhausted. Also, I have no idea where to find a girl scout; is it just me or do they seem to disappear into thin air right after the cookie drive? And, please, don’t tell me they are out doing good works in the community or earning badges or some such shit because that’s just crazy talk.

And, while I would not entertain the idea of doing bodily harm to a Girl Scout normally; they must lace those cookies with crack, rendering even docile law-abiding citizens such as myself powerless to fight the urge to obtain the sweet, sweet minty, chocolately goodness at any cost, especially during this particular phase of the moon which, means it’s probably a lucky thing for Troop 479 that I don’t know where to find its’ members tonight.


PMS and poor sentence structure; run on, sentence, run on!

Anyhoodle, in case you missed my point, PMS is the devil.

Currently, I am craving chocolate. And, salt. Preferably together. I am also highly and eratically emotional which pretty much explains why my idea of a perfect evening would include a box of Kleenex, a bag of M&M’s, a saltlick and the Hallmark Channel.

In short, it sucks to be female. Thanks for The Curse, Eve.

Oh, who am I kidding? This is Adam’s fault; he didn’t have to bite the apple just because Eve asked him to. Forget the Girl Scouts, I could knock over Adam right about now.

Especially if he had Thin Mints.

Wednesday, February 03, 2010


Last night’s Freshman orientation went spectacularly well. The Teenager and I listened attentively (as attentively as she could from the back of the room where she was texting away in the company of her friends, anyway) and, by the end of the evening; I had her entire academic career lined out. She’s going into a fast-track program with a side of NJROTC thrown in for good measure.

Kidding, she totally drew the line at allowing me to sign her up for NJROTC and, really, the thought of  purposely arming her strikes fear in my heart so, yeah; we are all the better for her refusal.

Anyway, I was feeling pretty damn smug about my prowess for determining academic electives from mandatory academic classes and non-academic electives from academic electives and x=yxz divided by pi, etc. until I got home when; WTF, Lost? Why you gotta make me feel stupid all over again?

Seriously, if you understood five minutes of that show last night, please do share. Otherwise, I shall simply resign myself to the fact that I can enjoy the show for nothing more than the pretty, pretty men who star in it.

Not that there’s anything wrong with Teh Pretty, it's just, well, I would kind of like to know what the hell is going on.

So, I have a proposition to make to the school district; why not expose your students to a massive exercise in Critical Thinking by offering a class based on the interpretation and scientific explanation of Lost?

Like, for realz.

Hell, I would totally sign up for that class and, just for fun, I would sit next to The Teenager because; my often-heavy breathing over Teh Pretty wouldn’t embarrass her at all.

Teh Pretty, in case you didn't know.

Tuesday, February 02, 2010

Damn You Punxsutawney Phil, Damn You

Hey, hey! Remember when I promised you that my annual This Weather Sucks I Am So Tired of Winter post would be coming soon? Here it is! I know; you feel so lucky.

Anywaaay, the weather isn’t too bad currently but, that damn rodent in Pennsylvania saw his shadow this morning, predicting an additional six weeks of winter. That’s just marvelous, Phil! Thanks so much for that; I bet we have snow before the week is out.

Ooh, hey! I bet we have snow on Sunday when I have to get up at the ass-crack of dawn to drive The Teenager to Neighboring City for volleyball because, in case you missed yesterday’s point; Mother Nature has a sense of humor. And, she’s a bitch.

On a less depressing topic, The Teenager and I are going to her Freshman Orientation this evening.

Ok, I lied, not less depressing.

Hugh won’t be attending the meeting with us because he will be busy corralling eight billion pee wee wrestlers in the school’s mini-gym at our first practice of the season. I’m really torn up about missing that (cough-sarcasm-cough) but, my duty is to my first-born this evening.

Speaking of duties, the president of our youth baseball association called last night to remind me that we have to start planning for this year’s baseball season. I don’t know how to tell him that I have decided to resign from my position as secretary of the Board but, I’m certain I’ll come up with something.

Perhaps a Dear John letter would be appropriate.

It’s not that I don’t enjoy participating on the Board; it’s just that I have a very limited amount of free time and I’m trying to be more selective in how I spend it. Plus, the nominating committee for my women’s service club just asked me to run for second Vice President and, while my modus operandi for the past two elections in which I have run for office was to find out whom I was running against and then to campaign for them; this time I’m thinking about actually trying to win and; a girl can only do so much at one time.

(This is exactly what I should put in that Dear John letter.)

Or, I could crawl into Phil’s burrow and ignore the world for six more weeks.

Ha! If only that were an option.

Monday, February 01, 2010

Mother Nature Has a Sense of Humor and, The One Thing You Never Want to Hear Your Teenage Daughter Say

This morning I was all prepared to write my annual This Weather Sucks I Am So Tired of Winter post when, what do you know? Mother Nature throws a perfectly lovely day my way. Warm temperatures, sunshine, no wind; it was awesome.

Annual This Weather Sucks I Am So Tired of Winter post to be scheduled for a later date; probably this time next week. Or, tomorrow, it is Colorado after all.

On a topic slightly related to Mother Nature, when I got home from work today; The Teenager greeted me at the door with a woeful “You’ll never guess who I’m having a baby with” to which I replied “I don't know but; the story had better include the words immaculate and conception” to which she replied “Oh my gawwwwd, motherrr! I mean, guess who I got partnered with in Science for our gene project! God! You are so lame!”

I’ll take being lame over being a grandma at 41 any day of the week, thankyouverymuch.