This Corrosion

Moribund

2010-05-19T18:27:00.000-07:00

Ok, blog, I'm going to officially declare you comatose. I can't quit you, nor can I keep you. But, let's face it; you're the Terri Schiavo of blogs.

It's time to take a long(er) break, my lovelies. I hope we can bring things together again someday. But, it's going to be summer, at the earliest.

It has been teh SHITTIEST of work years - and I want to talk about it, BUT I CAN'T - and, really, if I can't talk about it, I don't have much reason to post here. It just stews and stews inside, and has to stay there, for all kindsa legal and ethical reasons. Feh.

I hope that the interwebs will survive a long break. I'm not sure how this will all pan out. Think good thoughts of me, and I'll be back when I'm back.

Damn it, I forgot to blog.

2010-04-02T20:16:00.001-07:00

For, like, ever.

Just too much stuff going on. Husband and children still marvelous, but I'm working on two ankle surgeries - one completed, one in the planning stages - as well as a fairly massive amount of cosmetic dentistry. (Why, since you asked, I am, in fact, missing two teeth in the front of my mouth. Thinking about doing the dental implant thing instead of the false teeth, which have an annoying tendency to come loose when I bite on hard things. Hey now, WATCH IT, jokesters. There are kids reading this blog.)

Plus, it's silly season at work, as par for the course at the end of the academic year. I have 40 days left to do the work that should be done in 90, and I don't know how I'm going to get it done, other than working on my day off (which I am doing ) or simply being late and apologizing (which I will be doing).

Lame? LAME. I swore I would come back and write. But there it is. Maybe I just can't anymore. Sigh.

How do all you other fine ladies keep it up? (Hey, I SAID WATCH IT!)

Thoughts on the Massachusetts Election

2010-01-19T19:21:00.001-08:00

"I want CHANGE! I want CHANGE!"

Christ, do you sheeple even LISTEN to yourselves? Or is your memory just that permeable?

Really, though, you have no memory of the party that PUT us in such staggering debt? That FORCED the health care crisis? That botched the holy fuck out of one of the worst natural disasters in our history?

This is starting to feel like jello goin' through the colander, folks.

I will admit, Coakley seemed like a total schmuck. God damn, ya stupid Democrats, if that's the best you can do, I'm kind of thinking you deserved it. Mismanaged, clueless, and mealy-mouthed is probably not what we want on our side, anyway.

I'm feeling foul about all this. Gah. Wonder if I've got a "How I Met Your Mother" on the DVR.

In other news, mom still fine! Recovering splendidly! Eating macaroni and cheese and poached eggs, two things that I believe anyone can survive happily on for a very long time.

Wheeeeeeww. Too many bad things happening to really good people right now. Doesn't it seem that way? Like, a bad moon's on the rise?

Good news!

2010-01-09T16:43:00.000-08:00

Mom is better! She's swallowing, and not leaking, to their knowledge, and is expected to come home from the hospital tomorrow (Sunday).

Whew! I am SO incredibly believed. This looked a little bad, friends. I'm so glad I went up there. I am SO glad. Not that I did anything really besides sit there, and ask lots of polite (and only occasionally slightly pointed) questions...but I'm really glad that my sister didn't have to bear the burden of it all.

And, my brother even came in from Boston. I think it may have been - a year and a half? Close to two? - since I saw him. He didn't bring my three nephews, of course, circumstances as it were, but it was still excellent to talk to him for a while.

I can't believe she sounds as good as she does, I swear, given the way she sounded before the surgery and immediately thereafter. She sounded SO incredibly weak beforehand, and her coloring was just wiped out. I swear, I thought for a second that this had all (finally) turned her hair gray.

But today, talking to her on the phone, you can just tell she's feeling so much stronger. She's eating mushy food, pestering me to watch the MU basketball game, and complaining about Obama, so presumably everything is improving apace. (Mom's way to the left of Obama. She HATES him, too. I think she hates him more than the Republicans...no, I'm SURE she hates him more than Republicans. Well, she really thinks he IS a Republican, and that's why she hates him. She equates him with Joe Lieberman.)

I got back to Austin Wednesday night, just in time to watch the Longhorns debacle (poor Frosh Gilbert! As they said in Clerks, "I'm not even supposed to BE here!") and to get here for Austin Cold 2010. Again, Austin Cold is NOT Kansas City Cold, but I'll allow that 14 degrees is pretty massive for around here. I mocked The Man for dripping all the faucets last night - what the HELL, we never did that up north? - but he was vindicated by the sheer number of people I know whose pipes froze last night. Due props, The Man.

I also got back in time for this, the first day of Eat Healthy God Fucking Damnit 2010. I think I'll try the Volumetrics approach this time, because I read somewhere that it was the most successful weight loss approach. I think I like it because it's totally old school - drink a lot of water, and eat a lot of soups and water-containing vegetables, to fool yourself into thinking you're full. It's dieting circa 1972, when my mom and grandmother used to eat canned tomatoes and V8 juice and like Clamato or some such shit. You know, though, I can hang with that. I just bought me all the ingredients for that awesome classic Weight Watchers Cabbage Soup, which I can totally eat all the time, for some reason. And, I've got Roasted Veggie and Ancho/White Bean Chili on the stove simmering on the stove for this eve, so I'm totally not feeling deprived. I will refrain from a hearty sprinkling of cheddar cheese on top and big chunk of crusty sourdough bread as a scooper, is all.

Sighs contentedly. And did I mention The Man took The Children out for a couple of hours? And I'm ALLLLLLL by myself in the house?

It IS a good day.

Update on All The Suckishness Herein

2010-01-04T20:07:00.000-08:00

Mom's surgery is finally over, FIVE AND A HALF HOURS later. So much for that "easy, gentle, non-invasive" laparoscopy.

So, the upshot is, they did get the hernia repaired laparoscopically. Technically, what they did was to push the stomach back into the abdomen, through the hole in the diaphragm (forgive me if I'm off on my anatomy a bit, John,) and then kind of tacked the stomach around the esophagus to stop the acid reflux and to help keep the stomach in place. This last bit is fairly common, apparently, and is called a Nissen Fundoplication. It's not very common to have almost the entire stomach in the chest cavity, though, which is what was going on with Mom.

There was a problem, though, in that, when they were attempting to insert a guide wire-thing into her esophagus, they popped a hole in her LARYNX. So, they had to take out all their guides and scopes and instruments while the doctor consulted with another laparoscopic doctor and an ENT to decide if this was a big deal. Apparently, it should heal on its own, provided there isn't any infection, so they just sewed up the hole, put everything back in, and finished the operation; hence, FIVE AND A HALF HOUR surgery.

On a 78-year-old woman. Whose throat you, um, just punched a hole in? Wait, what?

Being as I had been in the waiting room for eight hours at that point, and all I could really think about is "Is she alive or not," I did not, at that time, really think this through. But, friends, as I'm typing, I'm suddenly sort of realizing that this shit shouldn't have gone down this way, no pun intended.

Or should I expect this? Is it not a big deal? I can't trust my judgment right now, as I have very little forebrain to spare.

You know, I think it would all be less horrible if it weren't so unadulteratedly SHITTY in Kansas City right now. Last week, when we were all here for Christmas, it snowed and snowed and snowed, to the point that we were all trapped in the house for days, and I realized I hated the crap with every bit of my heart and soul.

Well, since then, it has not gotten above freezing - so none of the old stuff has melted. It also snowed all day two days ago, making driving horrible. (I do thank all the gods and fates that my mother still has her snow tires put on every October, though. As much driving as I've been doing, I would have SO been in the ditch or crashed into another car, like, 20 times by now.)

But the worst part is that it is MOTHEREFFING COLD. Tomorrow morning, when I wake up to make this horrible slog back to the hospital on the old snow, because of which I will probably crash? It is going to be MINUS NINE DEGREES. Yes, friends. Minus. The high will be a balmy 14 degrees, which will all end on Wednesday, when they are expecting three to six MORE inches of snow, followed by an Arctic blast, during which the high temperature - the HIGH TEMPERATURE - is expected to be ZERO.

I honestly do not know why people live here. I mean, I get that I've become a soft Texan; I don't dispute that. But, seriously, doesn't this, empirically, without bias or prejudice, SUCK?

Sorry; I don't mean to bitch. I'm exhausted and miserable. She looked awful when I left the hospital; all drugged and puffy. (And, she had weird air bubbles all through her skin and in her eyelids from the laparoscopy, apparently because they blow a lot of air into you. It felt like there were Rice Krispies in her arm, or like bubble wrap under her skin that you could pop. Fascinating, and completely disgusting.)

I'm not much for prayin', but today, I kept thinking about what Anne Lamott said about the most fervent prayers, which tend to consist of simply "Please please please please please!" and "Thank you thank you thank you thank you!"

Man, I hope that the latter is where we are tomorrow. Whomever I'm talking to.

Sitting in the Waiting Room

2010-01-04T11:43:00.001-08:00

I am a patient boy. I wait, I wait, I wait, I wait.

We are THREE HOURS in to this surgery. Fuuuuck. When will it end?

Worry, bored, worry, bored bored bored. Hungry. WORRY, bored.

The Teens suck thus far

2010-01-01T17:34:00.000-08:00

This is it. The year I resume writing my blog.

Because, you wanna know why? Blog writing is SO "out" that it's finally back "in" again. I have decreed it thus.

Welcome to the teens. This is the decade that we, as a nation, and indeed as a world people, become awkward, pimply, and snarky. Hopefully, we will also finally learn how to drive. Can't say I'm holding my breath for that one, though.

I was expecting to be sleeping off a big ol' hangover today in the confines of my house, enjoying the last few days of my winter break and the dulcet tones of my darling daughters as they bean each other with Wii remotes. However, sadly, I find myself BACK in Kansas City - wherein I just left not five days ago - as my mother has become seriously ill. Thus, I flew back today, and here I am, in the land of single-degree temperatures (9, at present,) watching my mom sleep in her hospital bed.

They say it's a very unusual hiatal hernia; it's actually an esophageal hernia. The doctor says that she was probably born with her stomach pushed up through the abdominal wall. She apparently caught some sort of stomach bug, which caused some really violent vomiting, and this seems to have forced the stomach to flip or bend backwards, around the esophagus.

Last night, the vomiting got really bad, so they intubated her to get the stuff out. The good thing is that, when they did the gastrointestinal scan, the hernia corrected itself to some degree, and the stomach temporarily popped back into place. So, she's feeling better now, although she still can't eat or drink anything, and she is sort of in and out of consciousness. (My sister says that she looks MUCH better than she did yesterday, though.)

The doctor just came in and told us that she does need to have surgery to correct this, and it needs to happen before next week, or we could be looking at a very severe situation. Problem is, there's nobody at this hospital that can do it laparoscopically, so they'll have to transfer her down to a hospital in downtown Kansas City tomorrow. I'm thinking I'll probably delay my flight home and come back to Austin afterwards, if I can.

Sigh. Not the joyous "return to bloggin" post I was hoping to make. I had planned it out; it was going to be all full of bon mots and hip cultural references. It was downright witty, I tell you. You'll just have to take my word for it.

But, it's good to be back.

Lordy, Lordy

2009-11-18T18:47:00.000-08:00

I'm 40!!

I need so much to post and tell you everything, EVERYTHING, about the past weekend, which was gloriously filled with excess and joy, with such incredible friends...old and new, from near and far. But I am honestly not recovered yet, here, four full days later, and I'm totally crashing.

However, even if I can't do the recap tonight, I figured you should know...the fait is all accompli. My thirties, my best decade thus far, are over.

What's next?

Happy Halloween!

2009-10-31T13:45:00.000-07:00

Enjoy my disturbing video!

Try JibJab Sendables® eCards today!

Daylight

2009-10-20T20:10:00.000-07:00

We are finally out of the Sick House.

Both girls got the swine flu this past week, to the surprise of none of the parents of small children that I know. Compared to the other stories I've heard, it seems we got a moderate wallop.

The OG was out of school for four consecutive days. The YG was out for four days total, although not consecutive due to my apparent lack of parenting ability. She seriously looked fine after she missed the first two days, and had the requisite 24-hour fever-free period (well, OK, 22 1/2, but she had a LOT of energy). Plus, honestly, I've not experienced any illness with my children that has necessitated more than a day or two out of school - as we are VERY healthy midwestern stock, we are - so I wasn't expecting this level of commitment to being sick, you know.

So, she got sick last Monday, and stayed home Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday with her sister. By Friday both girls were looking healthy enough to go to school, so I sent them on. We even made it out to Malcontent Mama's for a party out west at Casa Avocado last Saturday, and the girls had a total blast running around in the Hill Country.

Everything looked pretty good, until Sunday morning, the YG wakes up, boom, vomits, fever starts spiking, and we are going to the Children's Hospital because I am a NERVOUS WOMAN and because a healthy five-year-old girl who lives in the next neighborhood over died last week from this crap.

They tested her, and it is indeed the piggy flu, or at least they assume it is, because that's 95% of the flu that is going around down here. Not much they could do at that point, though; it's a bit late for the vaccine, and also for Tamiflu. So, she stayed home Monday and today as well.

(I'd just like to state, after staying with them for a good portion of last week, that I have a renewed appreciation for stay-at-home mothers. Oh, my GOD, how do you do it? Granted, I usually only see my kids at home when they are sick and necessarily crabby, but I swear, if I had to break up one more whining session between those two, I was going to Pack Up And Leave.)

As of this evening, YG seems more-or-less refreshed and ready to head back to school, and the OG hasn't shown any sign of regressing, so presumably we are past this. Of course, I'm immensely grateful for the fact that we're not permanently scathed by this, but I do have to say, THIS FLU SUCKS. We didn't get the vaccine - and I'm sure it wouldn't have mattered much if we had, as I think we got exposed several weeks ago, right when the vaccine was arriving. But, I'd damn sure recommend it to everyone now.

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

Planning 40th birthday party. Freaking out a little. In that spot where I'm sure nobody likes me, and the ones that do will show up and the party won't be any fun. Can't think about it without worrying, so am not really thinking that much about it. Glad The Man is stepping in here to help out.

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

Oh, and if you were wondering whether three 10-month-old Thin Mints, found in the remnants of their sleeve in the bottom of one's freezer, still taste good?

Yes. Yes, in fact, they do.

Sickish

2009-09-22T18:46:00.000-07:00

No H1N1, just some garden-variety blech.

In fact, it could literally be a garden-variety illness, in that it is entirely possible that it's allergy-related. If I indeed had a garden anymore, which I don't. I have a yard, which we'll charitably say is being xeriscaped. (Translation: eaten by volunteer lantanas, which The Man, native Texan that he is, cannot bring himself to cut down.)

Where was I? Oh, yes, sick. Sort of sick. Throat sore, energy drained, crabby as fuck...but not so bad as to get to stay home. That is a luxury one must save for the true deal, or when one's children have the true deal.

The girls are about in the same boat. The YG is coughing and a bit hoarse, but not spiking a fever. The OG is going through her usual fall-winter behavioral reaction to what is presumably an exposure to strep. She's agitated, stressed, itchy, doing all sorts of ticcing, and will burst into screechy tears, in school and at home, at the drop of a hat. Plus, she's got that tell-tale rash around her mouth. All this tells me that she could REALLY REALLY use a healthy dose of antibiotics right now, but I feel like a complete dope heading to her doctor asking for antibiotics when she doesn't have a fever, or any real external signs of infection.

So, given that I know her signs, you'd think I would be kind, or sympathetic to her, in her time of distress. But you would be WRONG. I am about to string her up. I can't imagine what sort of horrible Munchausen-By-Proxy mother would wish for her darling daughter to have a fever, but I do. I just CANNOT WAIT for it to spike so that I have an excuse to beg for three weeks worth of Zithromax.

The YG is charming her way through kindergarten, as is her wont. My worries for her are altogether different from the OG. Whereas the OG has always excelled academically and struggled socially, I fear that the reverse may be true for the YG. She is so incredibly verbal, and bright, and SO freakin' observant that it stuns me; however, she really, really can't read. And she - get this, ex-reading teacher here - writes BACKWARDS a lot of the time, even her own name! I fear that we may be having to investigate some sort of external teaching, which is not typical to my family. (My side is all just like the OG. Smart, nervous, socially awkward victims, that's us.)

My back-to-workness is chugging along as per usual. No major stressors yet; my status is pretty much quo. Still love my boss, still dubious about at least one of my worksites. The job is still fun, though I daydream sometimes about something else. What, exactly, I'm unclear about. I think I've officially reached the point, in this, the twilight of my 39th year, that I really and truly just can no longer face the notion of going back to school. (More to the point, it's really that I can't face the notion of taking the GRE again. But as the first is predicated by the second, it's all pretty much the same thing.)

40 is approaching rapidly. Plans are falling into place for what I hope will be a good shindig. Send me an e-mail if you're going to be in Austin in mid-November, and I'll hook you up.

What up with all of you? Anyone flu-bound yet?

I Strain

2009-09-05T18:50:00.000-07:00

I am currently in the throes of a several-hour-per-night session of entering registration data for our local Girl Scout service unit. (Because they ASKED me to and I didn't have a quick excuse handy; that's why.)

It is mindless, time-consuming, and nastily eye-straining; but most of all, it has made me hate typing on my computer THOROUGHLY.

So, sorry for lack of updating lately. I have about two more weeks of at least an hour per night on this horrific task, and then it should be mostly over.

But, right now? I wish I had one of Badger's sidecars, and that I did not have this huge stack of forms in front of me. Sadly, this is not the case.

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

Oh, but I do have to share this anecdote from the YG's first day of kindergarten.

See, she is extremely into "pretty." For several years now, she's been wearing what essentially amounts to "ball gowns" to school, nearly on a daily basis. So, it has always been common for her to ask me "Do I look pretty?" before heading somewhere.

Well, on the first day of school, she had been planning to wear a big flouncy dress of hers. But, when she came out of her room that morning, she had on a cute pair of "blingy" jeans that I had bought her at JC Penney, and a shirt with rhinestone buttons.

And, do you know what she asked me?

"Mama, do I look rockin' ? I want to look ROCKIN'."

I had to assure her that, as her mother, that I might not be the best judge of what "rockin'" looks like anymore, but as far as I was concerned, she was the rockinist girl in the kindergarten.

Sigh

2009-08-11T07:09:00.000-07:00

I would LOVE to tell you about things like MY NEW CAR and how I HAVE TO GO BACK TO WORK next week.

However, that would also involve telling you about how the OG knocked a full beer (mine) onto my laptop, and about how the prognosis for said laptop is iffy at best, and that due to this incredibly expensive mishap, I am sans computer for the time being, and have to share the desktop with The Man, who is most inconveniently "working" when I want to be blogging.

Anyway, it's over at Happy Mac for some CPR. I'm hoping there is life in it yet.

In the meantime, ponder the fact that my clunker has officially been cashed, and that I am now the proud owner of this:

Yes, it's a HYBRID. I am so frackin' thrilled, and promise not to be smug.

What is upsettingly to me, personally, it's also my first non-American car. I feel very bad about this - I was UAW born and bred, and pretty much figured I'd be UAW dead. But, crap, this is a hybrid car that costs well under $20,000...and the dealership is within walking distance of my house!

The Man and I talked about it, and bared our bleeding hearts to each other, and decided to go for it in a moment of quick decision-making. (Well, actually, he had no idea I was doing it, until I called him from the dealership saying "I've got my pen poised above my checkbook; should I buy a car?")

In the end, I figure that this may be our only foreign car we buy. By the time we're in the market for another car, American hybrids will probably have caught up in price and mileage. I bet a Chevy Volt will be in our driveway in five years.

But, I'd be lying if I said I did not l-o-o-o-ve it.

Summer Obsession List

2009-07-30T19:48:00.000-07:00

Hey! It's time for the annual Summer Obsession List! I'd have gotten to it sooner, except for the first item on the list:

Watching Battlestar Galactica from Netflix. We're almost through Season One. LOVE. I'm actually kind of glad to be watching it this way, as it is so much more gratifying to sit and watch two episodes a night than to have to wait weeks - or whole seasons - in between. (Or, at least it is until some frakkin' geekboy ruins the whole series for me by telling me the ending. Geekboys: Be Warned.)

Hayao Miyazaki. In the past three days, the girls and I have watched Spirited Away twice, and My Neighbor Totoro once, and Howl's Moving Castle is on hold for me at the library. I am amazed that I've lived this long without seeing these movies, because they are quite incredible, Spirited Away most particularly. It manages to be both highly realistic - with an eye for detail that clearly inspired The Iron Giant, another favorite of mine - and also completely WACK. The story line just takes off, five minutes into the movie, and almost immediately goes absolutely NUTS, and stays there for two, mesmerizing hours. I can only dream of having that kind of creativity. (The kids LOVED it, too, and are begging me to purchase it. I think it may have to happen.)

William Shatner reading the Palin speeches and Twitters from Conan. Damn, I will always love that man. Ever since I bought Golden Throats back in college - with his versions of "Mr. Tambourine Man" and "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds" - I have thought he was the funniest person alive. He's completely able to be both seriously pompous AND making fun of himself at the same time! He was meta when meta wasn't cool.

Going to the gym. Five times a week, bitches; 45 minutes of cardio, and 20 minutes of resistance. I can now run a full 10 minutes on the treadmill without having to slow down, and I swam laps for 35 minutes straight - and really only stopped because I realized that I hadn't put on sunscreen (having figured I'd make it 10 minutes tops). I've lost 10 pounds - but, before you get all congratulatory, I'd put on 20, so this is only a market correction. For all this work, I really wish the scale were dipping much lower than this, but, hey, it's a start.

On the same note, dieting. This is further down on the obsession list, but I'm definitely giving it the old college try. I'm buying soysage and sawdust - erm, I mean "high fiber" - tortillas and bread, and I've pretty much cut out dairy and such. I only wish that the exercising didn't make me so incredibly HUNGRY, because it really makes this part so much harder.

Stiff by Mary Roach, which is on my bedside table. I am completely fascinated about what happens to our bodies after we die. Oddly enough, it manages to be informative AND hilarious. I highly recommend it, if you have a stomach for such things - although, honestly, she couches things pretty palatably, if you can use a word for such a subject. (For example, she decides at one point that the word "maggot" is too nasty, so she substitutes the word "hacienda" for it.) I love it, although I read with horrible teeming jealousy, because I SO wish I could write that well.

Improving my poker game. Sadly, I haven't made much progress on this end, because I can't win a game to save my life, but I'd really like to get better. Like SOON, because our annual full-day tournament is coming up in two weeks, and I'm afraid I'm going to SUCK DONKEY.

The new library branch that just opened up in our hood. Music! Videos! Books on CD! Harry Potter books on CD, which the OG loves, and which cost bajillions of dollars to actually purchase! Reading a book review, and then, on a whim, getting online to reserve it! I'm very happy, and saving considerable jack in the process.

Organizing my photographs. I have two large boxes of loose photos that date back to when the YG was one, which was - um, FOUR years ago. So far, I've made at least two years of progress, but it is slow going. And, I don't have prints of anything from the past year, so I guess I need to - um, order some? (Actually, answer me this: Do people even ORDER prints anymore, or do we all just look at them online, or on our respective digital devices?)

Planning for my big 4-0, which is fast approaching. Finances have prevented me from heading to Cancun or Cozumel, so it'll be a party in the A-Tex for me. I really hope we can swing a big, fun one, at the very least.

Plotting for my iPhone. Oh, I don't have it yet, but I will. Someday, I will. And then...and ONLY then...will I be complete.

Because You Need to Watch This Again

2009-07-20T20:45:00.000-07:00

He'll kick you apart.

Part of My World

2009-07-16T20:31:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow is, also, the stage debut of the YG. She is playing Ariel at "Little Mermaid Camp" for teeny chillun. I am super-proud of her, and she is very excited to get to show her little prima-donna self to the world.

(And, though I am very happy for her, I did have to roll my eyes a bit when she got the part. Before class the first day, she was all "I want to play Ariel!" and I'm all "Well, sweetie, ALL the little girls want to play Ariel, you may not get it, they may want someone else or an older girl," yadda yadda yadda. You know, the steeling of your child for the harsh realities of the world, that thing we do. Then, that day, after camp, I picked her up, and she waltzes out and shouts "I got Ariel!" Like, there was no question in her mind, why the hell was there any in yours?

In any case, tonight, I pulled out the video camera to make sure it was charged up for the big play. I realized that the hard drive on it is pretty much full, and I needed to transfer some of it off to DVD so that I could be sure to have enough time left to film the play tomorrow. (Oh, sure, you people with all your technical knowledge can digitize all your movies. I'm not TOTALLY there yet. I could be, but I haven't had time to learn. So, at the moment, I'm just rerecording them via my DVD recorder.)

So, for the past hour, I've been watching a lot of old movies from the past three years, and melting a little bit with every passing second due to the images of my children being so young. Absolutely CRUSHING, I tell you.

Anyway, the beginning portion of the tape has a lot of the YG as a two- to three-year-old child. And - I exaggerate NOT EVEN SLIGHTLY - about HALF of the footage of her involves her either singing the Ariel song, or playing with her Ariel dolls, or making up songs ABOUT Ariel.

Eh; I think she's right. I'll step out of her limelight. She was born to do it.

_____________________

Oh, dudes, the OG gets back from camp tomorrow. I'm so ready to see her, I just cannot tell you. I was so excited that I pre-bought tickets to see Harry Potter at the Alamo Drafthouse tomorrow. They're serving butterbeer and pumpkin pasties! We are SO geeking out. Can. Not. Wait.

______________________

Speaking of geeking out, The Man and I are getting into Battlestar Galactica. We watched the mini-series, and are now about eight episodes into the first season. It's some good sci-fi, man. And it is TOTALLY the way to go to watch it on DVD. It really helps to watch them in rapid succession.

I am, however, a little alarmed at how hot he is for that damn Cylon.

Status:

2009-07-12T19:17:00.000-07:00

Sunday evening.

Pondering a semi-large work-related decision. (Not changing jobs, just possibly worksites.) There are pros and cons, as is the way of such things. To change would involve working closer to home and potentially saving money on after-school care; to stay would include me keeping my SWEET office with a whole wall of floor-to-ceiling windows that I've occupied for the past year.

Going to work this week, but should not be too stressful. Summer work is calmer. Not as much breathing down of the neck. Thinking about using the money I earn to get an iPhone.

No wine tonight - dieting again, GD it all - but a quiet house is nearly as intoxicating. The OG has gone to Girl Scout camp again, and the YG has uncharacteristically agreed to bedtime this evening without a fight. It's only The Man and I, and we are slumped into a silent stupor on the sofa.

(Oh, and on the subject of the OG: How, WHY is it that she can drive me bat guano crazy for days on end during the summer, but when she leaves for camp, I miss her HORRIBLY and cannot WAIT for her to come back? Sadly, I'm sure what's going to happen is that I'll be so completely excited to see her on Friday when she gets back, and then we'll be in a fight in like the first five minutes.

Just got through with the first four episodes of Battlestar Galactica from Netflix. I am enjoying it so far, I must say. It's Star Trek mixed with Lost, with a bit of a Joss Whedon sensibility to it. (Reminiscent of Firefly, of course, but without quite as much whacked-out syntax.) I am highly amused at the phones with cords, and the dot-matrix printers, and the odd hexagonal shapes of all their paper. In any case, I'm still interested, and that's saying something these days.

Saw The Hangover last night on a real date night with The Man. It was very funny. Zach Galifinakis is one of the awesomest comedians on the planet. I need to sit down and watch all of his specials, like, right now. And, I dearly love Ed Helms, and am glad to see he can handle a big leading role in a movie. Afterwards we went to this place, which is a fairly new and happenin' little place Karla May showed us to downtown that specializes in "old cocktails," like Harvey Wallbangers and the like. (I like the "Bees Knees," which involves Tanqueray, lemon juice, and honey.)

And...oh, yes, I am MELTING. Because it is ONE HUNDRED AND EFFING SIX DEGREES out there every day this week. (I like the heat, man, but this is kinda sick. It's like living in a kiln.)

Do you wanna watch my vacation slides?

2009-07-10T17:26:00.000-07:00

Another one from Silver Dollar City:

This coffin has been there since I was a kid. It's right outside of "Grandfather's Mansion," an old-school tilty house. (As a side note, I can apparently no longer go into a tilty house. Perhaps the Meniere's Disease has taken its toll on my central nervous system, but I was sick for HOURS afterwards.)

You know, as far as amusement parks go, SDC is one of the best. Though it has most of the ride conventions of your generic Six Flags - e.g. roller coasters, water rides, "kiddie areas," et al. - it also has actual hills and trees, and some semblance of Ozark-y culture, such as the peanut brittle making pictured in the last post. (Oh, and BY FAR the best amusement park food you will EVER have. Like, real pies, and big huge wok pans filled with sweet potatoes and sausage, or fresh green beans, corn, and grilled chicken.

And the rides - especially the new ones - are, in fact, pretty high quality. The old ones touch my nostalgic heart, but they're pretty cheesy animatronic stuff, truth be told. However, the OG and I were absolutely terrified - and I am not one to be easily swayed by rides, mind you - by one of the new rides, which is nothing more than a ginormous barn swing. THAT GOES ONE HUNDRED FEET IN THE AIR and OH MY GOD do not EVER look straight down at the ground from that height as you are hurtling towards it.

Anyways, though you may have an impression of Branson as the Fat White Redneck Vegas - and you would not be entirely wrong - there are many reasons to stop in. I highly recommend spending a day at Silver Dollar City, eating at a little old diner in town (as opposed to "on the strip,") and going to this particular waterslide, which has been in business 34 years. Strange; I actually remember the year that it opened.

Once again, kickin' it la escuela vieja. Cut into the side of the hill, and you slide down on mats. Again, hasn't changed one iota, but it's still pretty damn fun, and you don't get waterslide wedgies.

There's The Man, looking hunkalicious at the end of the slide. I must have misplaced the photo of me in my bathing suit.

After SDC, we went back to Fayetteville, where The Man covered a track meet, and I went with the girls and Trish and her boys to another of the kick-a sculpture parks.

I swear, I TRY to get her to pose normal.

After Fayetteville, we drove to Kansas City. Here's a shot from the SECOND amusement park of the trip, Worlds of Fun:

...and a snap of tiny baby Sara, the newest addition to the kid cadre of my closest friends:

Connie and Brian and The Man and I took an overnight trip to Columbia, MO, home of our alma mater. Here's Connie in the bizarro (but nice) northwestern-themed hotel we stayed at:

This is the front of the house Connie and I lived in in 1990:

Does it look nice? Well, it was abjectly NOT; it was disgusting. The carpet was so horrifically, monumentally filthy (deep down filthy, not not-vacuumed filthy) that if you spilled water on it and tried to dry it up, the towel would turn BROWN. And there was a basement of epic freaky proportions; it had tiny, dark, unlit portions behind doors that locked from the INSIDE. And I'm not even going into the wolf spiders.

Aaah, but I loved it. I miss college.

After seeing many awesome old friends - Trish, Erin, Connie, Anita, and even Tom and Sue Savage - and my mother and sister and extended family for a week, we headed back to Austin, and shortly thereafter took our now-annual trip to Port Aransas.

See? I didn't JUST drink, I did occasionally make contact with my children. With a drink.

This is my Big Head picture (for Karla) on the dolphin cruise out into the Gulf:

Because one should always wear a tiara; even while swimming:

Or just walking around the house:

A'ight? We square? We caught up now?

Hey! Hi! I have a blog!

2009-07-08T18:45:00.000-07:00

Oh, god, I HATE dieting.

HATE IT HATE IT HATE IT.

Oh, for the days when I could just give up beer and desserts for three weeks and lose twenty pounds.

And, for that body I used to have - you know, that body I used to have when I thought I was fat? That body? I feel as though I would literally kill for it. (Well, maybe not a person, but...um, at least a goldfish. An old goldfish. That was depressed.)

Hey, everyone, I'm back. Re-blogging commenced. Sorry I'm depressed and fat.

It's been a busy summer so far. The Reader's Digest version: Right after school got out, we drove to Fayetteville, AR, for a lovely visit with Trish and Mike, and their two beautiful boys.

Here's the YG and the OG in a pretty Fayetteville park with a super-cool outside sculpture/playscape fixture:

We swung in to swingin' Branson, Missouri for a two-night stay at a hotel with! A waterpark! Right in the hotel! (And, we went to Silver Dollar City, wherein my children were finally met with the penance promised them after the twelve-hour car ride:)

Oh, sure, you laugh at us, in Branson, with you all off on your Paris or London jaunts. But did YOU get hand-made peanut brittle?

I didn't think so.

Tomorrow: Kansas City! And Port Aransas!

Glad to be back, everyone. I've missed this. Forgotten how therapeutic it is. I'd actually go on more this evening, but we're FINALLY FINALLY getting to watch Battlestar Galactica from Netflix, (starting with the mini-series; I've missed it all) and if I don't watch it now, my window is closed.

Must go get my geek on now...

Summer Hiatus

2009-06-11T06:08:00.000-07:00

Not so's you'd notice - given my recent not-postingness - but I'm on a two- to three-week summer blogging hiatus whilst I deal with summer issues.

However, my summer resolution is to actually begin writing again, so look for me back at the end of June and beginning of July.

(Come to think of it, though, that'll be the part of my summer when actually NOTHING will be happening of earth-shattering interest to write ABOUT, so please look forward to a lot of "We went to the pool today. And, um, got a Jim-Jim's Water Ice.")

FRAK

2009-05-21T18:43:00.000-07:00

My work is KILLLLING ME. This is the year that WILL NOT END.

Seriously, dudes, I have never worked from home, this much, EVER. We're talking nights and weekends, and through lunch. My wrists ACHE and my thumb is about to FALL the fuck off from typing so much.

And there is SO much pressure this year. Do you know - DO YOU KNOW - that this week, I will be in meetings, literally ALL day long on some days? And that someone is pissed in nearly EVERY single one of them?

Do you know that I had tears in my eyes at three different points in the day, at my workplace, yesterday? And that I thought, very seriously, about sneaking out the window of my office and just driving away, far away, where nobody could find me to bitch at me?

Ah, yes. I see it all clearly now. This is why our parents' generation took those little yellow pills!

--------------------------
Oh, by the way, wine country was awwwwsome. Forgot my g.d. camera, though.

However, this was possibly a blessing, especially on Night One when we arrived, and John the Rogue Wine Pourer from White Oak Vineyard got me (and everybody else) EFFED UP beyond recognition.

It was seriously kind of sad, because the next day, when we were going on our actual wine bus tour, half of us - including Ms. Noxious, the birthday girl - were too hung over to have nearly as much fun as we should have. (I, however, had like Hobbit-style three breakfasts at our B&B, so I was pretty much fine.)

I really can't look at wine again yet, though.

NAPA, fools!

2009-05-14T19:54:00.001-07:00

Oh, hellz yes, we are headed out for a SPANKIN good time, thanks to a free credit card miles ticket and a golden opportunity to head out to Ms. Noxious's 40th birthday celebration.

Good idea? Not in the slightest. Even on the cheap, it's not gonna be free, and we're broke as all get out. And, in six years on this job, I have never, ever, EVER been this busy.

But there it is. Plane ticket is in my hand. And I believe I have some things to drink about.

The Merry Merry Month of May

2009-05-05T19:43:00.001-07:00

Hey, spring!

Fuck yeah! Except!

The slow morph of cool mornings (haw!) into warm (haw haw! Heat index of 102 tomorrow, bitches!) represents the most horrendous time of the year for me, work-wise. I'll attempt to blog here and there, but the next four weeks are going to completely murder me.

I know, I know, it's the breaks for having a job that allows me to take summers off. I'll take it; the reward is worth it. But this month never gets any easier. Sometimes - and this is between you and me, I swear, I'll kill you if you repeat this - I miss teaching...BUT, ONLY because, this time of year, with TAKS over and the kiddos pretty much in free-fall, THEY get to kind of chill and slack a bit. I, on the other hand, work on deadlines...and, my deadline coincides, pretty much, with the end of the school year. And eff me if they don't want everything done, right now, with a tidy bow on it.

Two large manila folders sit beside me, on my cool new aqua couch. I worked on the assignments contained therein last night, and I worked on them until 5:00 today. However, they are still not done, because of the constantly replenishing supply of meetings. And, they were due, um, yesterday, and today.

Am I working on them? Um...well, clearly, no. No, I'm not. I'm too fried. I can't even open them.

Please, somebody, reassure me that deadlines don't mean that someone is actually going to DIE if they don't see my hyperintelligent prose on a piece of paper tomorrow.

Because I'm gonna watch Jon Stewart now. I'm GOING TO WATCH JON STEWART, do you hear me, stupid fat manila folders?

--------------------------------
Hey, though, wanna see the spring pictures?

Cute, huh? Sears! And I didn't even kill them too much this time!

Gulp...look at that little one. Not quite so little anymore. In fact, tomorrow is...wait for it...KINDERGARTEN ROUNDUP. I am extremely thrilled - as she is also - but am so frakkin' sad, too. I will miss my chirpy li'l preschool cherub.

*sniff*

Scenes From My Children

2009-04-21T20:06:00.000-07:00

Scenario one: Easter Sunday

OG (gesturing furtively towards The Man): "Daddy, I need to ask you a question."

TM: "What is it, honey?"

OG: "Is fuck a dirty word?"

TM: "Well, honey, it is a bad word and -"

OG (interrupting, panicked): "OH, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I didn't know! I'm sorry!"

TM: "I'm not mad at you, honey. Relax."

OG: "Oh, um, OK. Um...what does it mean?

TM: "Well, it's - "

OG: "NO, no, don't tell me, I don't want to know!"

TM: "Um, then -"

OG: "No, wait, tell me."

TM: "Well, it's another word for having sex with someone."

OG: "Oh. OK. Thanks." (Runs away.)
------------------------------------------
Scenario two: This evening

YG (standing in the hallway, after being reprimanded slightly for spilling a bunch of water that I specifically told her not to spill, and redirected instead to brush her teeth):

"This is a BAD DAY. I didn't even have anyone nice at school today. And now you're not nice to me. This is a STUPID day. I HATE this day. I want this day to be OVER. This is the WORST day of my life. Why is this day SO BAD?"

Me: "Some days are like that. Um...would you like to finish your Gatorade before you brush your teeth?"

YG (brightly): "OK!"
--------------------------------------------
Scenario three: Composing Thank-You Notes:

YG (at my prompting to dictate her response):

"Dear Anna. Thank you for the lovely Barbie doll. You are so loving. You made the party a big fairy. That means you are a blast of a friend. Thank you for your lovingness and your good friendness. And I will go to your party and I will bring magic fairy dust to bring out all the love in the land. And the kindness. So, thank you very much. And have a a nice day."

OG (sitting next to us on the couch, slapping her hands over her ears): "AAAAAHH! PLEASE SAVE ME!"

Where I've Been Lately: A Photo Essay

2009-04-12T19:47:00.001-07:00

1. The YG is FIVE! Hurray, and ZOMG, when did that happen?

In honor of what is - potentially - the last year of when she'll be, as Karla May put it so succinctly,
"the girliest girl in Girltown," we sprung for a Tinkerbell party at the studio that she takes dance at. (Specifically, it was a "Tinkerbell and the Sparkle Fairies Ballet and High Tea Party.")

She had a fantastic time. I was sad we had to limit the attendance, to tell you the truth, because I honestly think she could have had 20 girls there dancing with her, and she would have been in complete bliss.

2. The aftermath of the party (and, let's face it, far too many years of spoiling).

The YG has now, no fewer than TWENTY-SEVEN Barbie dolls or Barbie-doll impersonators. And, according to her, she loves ALL of them more than ANYTHING in the world, and there is no POSSIBLE way we can winnow any of them down.

3. I got to babysit Simon!

Man, I forgot how much work they are when they are young and unformed. With the bottles, and the diapers, and the burping, and all that? I will opine that there are some distinct advantages to having older children.

HOWEVER, he is undeniably one cute customer.

He was WAY less fussy when Eric came to get him. Figures.

4. Girl Scout Camp! Yes, again!

.

Yes, I grow weary of it. But, she loves, loves, LOVES it. So, there it is. And, the YG is not far behind, after she starts school this fall. Thus, I grudgingly accept my fate, for the time being

5. Work! I don't have pictures of my work! Because it's suckish and frighteningly busy right now! So there is no time for pictures! Everything is due, and I'm running late on EVERYTHING, and nobody can help me, because they're all in the same boat! And that boat? That boat is taking on water! Quickly!

6. Heading out to the Malcontent Mama's swank trailer in the woods for a real-live Hill Country party yesterday:

Now, is that some Texas right there, I ask you?

The girls had a high old time, running around the creekbed, picking up cool rocks (and bones,) and playing with a variety of well-behaved and appropriately filthy children. The Man and I enjoyed some good conversation, and quite a bit of good beer.

How good a time? Well, I must ask those of you that know me well - how do I, typically, feel about unpaved roads? Like, I'd rather die than take one, right? But, I tell ya, I'm coming around. I - yes, I - was the one doing the encouragement to The Man to come out there! And, I'm planning yet ANOTHER camping trip to our annual swing dance, coming up soon!

I've changed, folks; look at me! I am SO much better able to handle hardships - like, say, being more than five minutes away from an art house movie theater - than I used to be!

Oh, and there were cascarones, too:

My children have never known an Easter without confetti-related egg violence. Texans through and through. (Do other people do these, now?)

Hey, speaking of the jaunt out west, I'm going to put a serious plug in for Opie's Barbecue in Spicewood. I daresay they are putting Cooper's to the test. Have the spicy barbecued ribs and the Tater Tot Casserole. Word.

-----------------------------------
There's more, but I'm crashing hard. Couldn't be the sugar, or the incredible effort that was expended today while cooking the delicious pork roast with adobo and Sazon or the Tres Leches Coconut Cupcakes with Dulce De Leche Buttercream frosting.

Hope your day went well. I'm out.

Great Moments in Parenting

2009-03-31T17:32:00.000-07:00

Let me be clear: I HATE the TAKS test.

To be a teacher in Texas is to have to live with the TAKS test, a.k.a. the Sword of Damocles, hanging over your head, once a year. And, when one is a teacher in a poor school in Texas - which I was, for seven years - you are reminded of it, every day, all year long.

Because, of course, in Texas, we believe in the high-stakes testing. The good folks of this state have put their faith in the (*cough* Republican) leaders of our state educational system, and these esteemed ladies and gentleman have assured us that pegging our kiddos' school performance on these measures is OK.

Why? Surely, performance on these measures must provide a good prediction of success in college. What, no? Then, clearly they must be good measures of academic proficiency, then? Yes, OK, that is true, to some degree. However, they also measure several unintended variables: first, it measures one's ability to take multiple-choice tests, or to "game" the system (e.g. to weed out the two stupid answers, to look at the two possible answers, and then to figure out which one of those is the "trick."). The other, secondary skill that it measures is attention, or stamina. Some kiddos, no matter how much they want to do so, just don't sit, and sustain attention, in this dry, silent, LONG, testing session that is the typical format of TAKS.

Now, I KNOW all this. I also know a lot about testing, about criterion vs. standardized testing, about predictive value, and about what Republican assfaces the State Board of Education are. I would never, NEVER, emphasize TAKS as a reason to make - oh, any decisions whatsoever, PARTICULARLY not making it the sole criteria regarding retention in the third or fifth grade. It's stupid to do so, and that's all there is to it.

With background established, the OG took her very first reading TAKS this year, that extremely important third grade year. You know, the OG? The one that was reading chapter books when she was four? The one that topped their reading assessments when she was in the first grade? And, yes, the one that is also extremely hyperactive, and duly medicated as such?

Well, of course, she did pass the damn thing. She only missed four, which is just fine. But, here's the thing: If she'd missed three, she'd have made "commended performance." And...god damn it, out of 78 kids in her grade, she is one of only 13 kids that DID NOT get "commended performance."

So, do you think - given my extensive knowledge of this subject, and personal experience with extremely smart kiddos that were just too spazzy to sit and take this test with anything like full committment - that I would:

a) blow it off, because this is a silly, artificial construct, designed to do nothing more than make parents feel better than other parents, and I know that she's hyper and a ferociously good reader ANYWAY, or:

b) berate her for not trying harder, and make my already anxiety-ridden daughter feel worse about herself after all of her friends have pranced up to her, saying, "I got a 100!" "I got a 100 too!"

You would think I would have naturally gone to the first option, wouldn't you?

Sadly, no. No, I didn't.

The good news is that I didn't actually end up DOING it. I wisely called The Man and Christie, my former reading teacher friend, who both emphatically insisted that I step away from this ledge and swallow all of my bilious ravings before I drive my child (more) insane.

So, I let it go with a couple of questions about what went wrong, if we could do anything to improve her focus next time, that sort of thing. We had a little attitude adjustment session about her already fatalistic attitude towards math, our Next Big Test at the end of the month. And I let. it. go.

Next morning, I run into her teacher at school. First thing out of her mouth: "I can't BELIEVE that the OG didn't get commended performance!"

Gaaaahhhhhh.

SXSW Recap

2009-03-23T19:47:00.000-07:00

The Best:

The Decemberists and Gomez at the free show at Pangaea. Fantastic. Worth every bit of the two hours in line to get the pass, and the hour and a half in line to get in. Free ticket, free open bar, GREAT sound and a classy joint to boot, and some of the best music, bar none, that I've ever heard at a South By show. Thanks to Bookhart for being my date!
Over the Hills and Far Away - the doc on autism that I was raving about down an entry.
The Chris Gaffney tribute at Continental Club on Thursday night (with Dave Alvin, Ponty Bone, Cindy Cashdollar, Lisa Pankratz, etc.) I'd heard of most of these people, but had no idea how incredible this show would be. Super tight and rocking fabulous.
The Mighty Stef at Mojo's Mayhem at the Continental Club on Saturday morning. Cyuuute Irish lads with a taste for Americana. Good enough for me to buy a CD, which I NEVER do.
The Bloody Marys at Mojo's Mayhem at the Continental Club on Saturday morning. Mmmm. They make me feel positively healthy, I tell you.
Free sushi at Kenichi at the Shurman party. Again, with the mmmm. They make this one thing? That's like a sushi nacho? I think, tuna with a wasabi sauce on a fried wonton chip? Fraaaack. Great band, too. West Texas meets Son Volt.
The weather. Warm, sunny, awesome, sexy, Austin springtime weather. Men in their western shirts with the sleeves cut off, girls in sundresses and cowboy boots.
Having my mother in town for a week to watch the girls. Score!!!
Best Worst Movie at the Paramount. It's about the, supposed, worst movie ever made, Troll 2, and the Rocky Horror-like cult following it has developed. Just delightful.
Vast vats of cheap, or free, beer. Everywhere. For no damn good reason.
Pizza from Home Slice.
Hanging out with several awesome friends, including some I don't get to see often enough. Nice to hang with not only Bookhart, but also Milena.

The worst:

Attempting to go to the Dog and Duck for St. Patrick's Day. HORRIFIC crowds, endless lines, hot as shit, twenty minutes in line for a beer. Yeah, no. Won't do that again.
The absolute shit service we got at Sagra, the newish Italian restaurant around the corner from the Dog and Duck, wherein the lovely Bookhart and I were roundly ignored (!) to the point that both she and I - she being the most genteel person that I know, BTW - agreed that we actually had to get up and WALK OUT. (History: I NEVER do that.) My parting shot? "This? Is JUST NOT WORKING OUT." Hmph! I am so boss sometimes! However, happy ending in the way of the Clay Pit, spicy Tikka Masala, and cherry-pistachio naan, served with a cold beer by a flirty and attentive waiter who loved us. So, kiss my butt, Sagra.
Missing way too many movies. Didn't see Humpday, Winnebago Man, The Way We Get By, I Love You Man, Observe and Report, Trimpin, Objectified, or the actual Troll 2. I hear I screwed up totally by not seeing these.
The nearly all-day hangover I had on Friday.
Missing not only Mick, but also St. Murse, completely, during the whole GD week. Mick was ill; the Murse was a buzzing bee of activity.
Almost completely ignoring the mountain of work that I brought home to do. (Oh, wait, that was actually awesome, the incredible suckage of today not withstanding. Fuck, who works on vacation, anyway?)
Where my money was? Is empty now.
Haven't gotten on the scale yet.

Hey, SXSW Guys!

2009-03-17T11:22:00.000-07:00

Hey, hi there, you SXSW-types! Welcome to Austin!

Please spend a lot of money here; while the economy here isn't as bad as most other places, we could still use it. We have incredibly fine and cheap Mexican food, and most of us are happy to point out the local favorites. (I, myself, had to have a come-to-Jesus conversation with some young French psychedelic country musicians the other night, who were extolling the virtues of the fabulous Mexican dinner they had just had at...BABY ACAPULCO'S. "Friends from across the pond," says I, "please let me direct you to Juan in a Million. And Taqueria Arandas. Joe's Bakery, Cisco's, and even Nuevo Leon. And that's just for breakfast.")

However, there are some ground rules, which I, over the course of the past few days of gadding about the film festival, have seen broken. So, let's have a brief rundown, mmkay?

1. You there. Yeah, you, with the hip eyewear and the pegged black jeans? No, not you, the other guy. NO, behind him. Yes, YOU.

OK, you see that cigarette? The one that you were smoking right in front of me in line, and that I was gracious enough to not even shoot you a dirty look about? Which you then THREW ON THE GROUND, still lit?

We don't do that here. That is littering, Bryton or Braden or Aidan or whatever your name is. Did you not hear that you are not supposed to mess with Texas? And methinks it will not help you get lucky from hip little Austin girls that you are tweeting or twitting. (Twatting?) So pick up your damn butt and we will all have a much better time.

2. When one is in a crowded movie theater, and one decides to eat a Five Guys hamburger, it everyone around you smell nothing but onions for two hours. And it is incredibly distracting, even from a completely OUTSTANDING documentary about a local family's journey to, literally, outer Mongolia, in search of a cure for their autistic son. Run, don't walk, to see this, especially if autism has touched you in any way. Magnificent and goose-bump inducing.

But still, about the onions. Really, try to hold off until afterward.

3. You really should have a cheeseburger at Casino El Camino. I just had one, for the first time, even though that club's been around for like 10 years. Frig, it was fantastic. I recommend the blue cheese with buffalo sauce.

Great vibe, too. It is undeniably the kind of place I would have hung out at in college. Edgy but still friendly, decent beer on tap, and hand-cut french fries. Nice.

4. If one puts forth even a modicum of effort, one can drink for free every single day of SXSW, and can see some completely kickass music without dropping a dime. Just a tip. A visit over to Bob Noxious's site, or the Austinist, or Done Waiting, will probably get you started.

5. Go see some films while you're in town. If you come to Austin without a visit to an Alamo Drafthouse, you are missing a huge part of the experience. There is a reason that Entertainment Weekly named it the best movie theater in the country; trust me on this. And, when better than South By, when all the Drafthouses are full of some super-good docs that you may never get to see again?

Yeah, yeah, there are features, too. Honestly, they are rarely that good. I share Mick's philosophy that if a feature film is worth it, it will make it to wide release, but the docs almost never do. Seriously, some of the best docs ever were premiered here...like "Spellbound," "Crawford," and "Gigantic: A Tale of Two Johns," just to name a few off the top of my head.

And, that brings me to:

6. Your texting, while you are sitting next to me, in movies, is nearly as distracting as you talking on your cell phone. STOP IT. Play with your iPhone when you get out. You are not that important, and nobody NEEDS to know exactly where you are for the next hour and a half.

OK? OK.

Now, back off to downtown. My mother, happily, is caretaking for the children this week, effectively giving me license to throw down hard. (I got into the free Decemberists show tonight at Pangaea, one of the rare clubs in Austin that have a dress code and a velvet rope. I am intimidated. But, as there is also an open - FREE - bar, I feel relatively assured I can mitigate this anxiety forthwith.)

I will check in later with more rules as they occur to me.

You're welcome.

Geek Bliss!

2009-03-08T20:02:00.001-07:00

Do you know who came to Austin, last night, on their tour? DO YOU?

Ohmigaw, I got to see THE ORIGINAL MYSTERY SCIENCE THEATER 3000 CREW - well, most of them, anyway - LIVE, ON STAGE, making fun of a movie! For reals!

Actually, they aren't calling themselves MST3K anymore. Some of them split off into separate factions; this part of the group, which is the majority of the original players, is called Cinematic Titanic. And, if last night was any indication, I'll be buying, like, all of their DVDs, because they were freaking THE BEST THING EVER since the original show went off the air.

First off, there was a brief warmup by Dave "Gruber" Allan, whom the awesomest among you will remember as Lindsay's long-haired teacher from Freaks and Geeks. (A lot of those guys were on that show, too...I know Joel Hodgson and Trace Beaulieu were, at least. I'm presuming they are all tight.) He was HYSTERICAL.

Then, the guys (and Mary Jo Pehl, who is an Austinite) came out, and riffed on this godawful movie from the poster above, The Dynamite Brothers.

And, oh, lordy, what a bad movie it was. Near as I can figure, this movie, uncertain if it wanted to be kung fu or blaxploitation, ultimately just threw up its hands and said "Fuck it, let's just make this thing about extended shots of guys running down hills." (As Trace said at one point, "I'll bet the cutting room floor was as clean as a whistle.") I have not laughed so hard in months, MONTHS, I tell you.

It was a fabulous time, even though it was nearly derailed by a violent onset of something I shall delicately refer to as the "stomach flu," a.k.a. "the reason I was tearfully standing in the Congress Avenue CVS store twenty minutes before showtime begging to be led to the Imodium*."

Now, off to bed. I'm still wicked tired and weak from whatever-the-hell-this-was, but am actually a little glad to have some desire to sleep on this, the "spring-forward" Sunday night, on which I'm usually up 'til like 1 AM.

Happy early-late sleeping to everyone, and may you not be completely foul grouchy bastards this week. (However, in my experience, it's probably best to expect that everybody ELSE at your workplace will be a completely foul grouchy bastard this week.)

*And, on that subject, mad props to Imodium, y'all. That is some wondrous medication right there. I have no idea how it works - though I imagine all sorts of weird visuals in my head, like tiny little microscopic elves erecting barriers with poured concrete, singing "Hi Ho" - but I'm just glad it did.

I forgot my blog

2009-03-04T18:39:00.000-08:00

Hello, blog. I'm so sorry I've neglected you.

I do still have feelings for you I really do. But, I have to admit, you are not as sexy as you once were. You're...kind of...bulky. And high-maintenance.

At least compared to - well, YOU know.

That other site; the one that lets you just type a sentence, and feel like you've connected with a hundred or more of your friends with one fell swoop. Hell, it won't even let you type much more than two short sentences; it practically ENCOURAGES slacking. It - well, it's not as demanding. It just lets me be myself, lets me do my own thing, you know?

No, baby, it's not like that. I'm not abandoning you. We're committed, you and I. And I don't walk away from these things lightly. But, I gotta admit, I've strayed, and I've strayed hard.

What's a girl to do, to put the spark back into my relationship with my blog? I guess I need to try a little harder, communicate a little more. Give it some attention. Put on my figurative writing negligee and get in bed with it with gusto.

Tomorrow night. Because, you know, long day. I'm tired. Kiss kiss!

Parenting Dues Paid

2009-02-23T19:24:00.000-08:00

The OG turned nine, everybody!

So, this weekend, we had our very first slumber party, because I'm a cheap bastard and didn't want to take everyone to Main Event or Austin Park and Pizza or whatever else the hell is the going rate of cool for the third-grade set.

It was, I hear, a smashing success. It was loosely "Harry Potter" themed, so I put my extremely creatively challenged mind to the task of making up a few games. Um...let's see...oh, we made "butterbeer" with fizzy water and butterscotch syrup (mine came from a special bottle with a pressurized cork, because, well, I didn't want to drink all THEIR awesomeness). We made "potions" with Kool-Aid, and "cauldron cakes" with cupcakes AND whipped cream AND frosting AND sprinkles, and "magic wands" (pretzels dipped in chocolate).

For some reason, they were hyper after that, and so we had a dance party, in which I was told that the song "Pocketful of Sunshine" is the BEST SONG EVER; I countered that with Brave Combo's version of "Hokey Pokey." HA. Take THAT, nine-year-olds.

We played "Find the Sorcerer's Stone," where they found garden rocks I'd hidden in the living room. (Lee opined that, if we get any poorer, that's what we'll have to do for Easter. "Go on, kids, find all the rocks!") And, we played violent, monstrously competitive games of Twister that went on and ON and ON. Children are very bendy creatures, as it turns out.

Eventually, they chilled and watched a movie. I'd hoped for quiet time after that, but there was a brief interlude in which they all ran outside at 11:00 to jump on the trampoline with their glowsticks. (I had to intervene, but it WAS actually pretty cool.) Eventually, they crashed, and, between, oh, 12:30 and 6:30, there was actual sleeping going on. Very bright and early Sunday morning, we were up again, for the chocolate chip pancakes.

Man, I am really glad she had an awesome time, because I am NOT doing that again. It's two days later, and I am still completely wasted tired. I was barely able to raise my head during the Academy Awards, which is one of the most sacred evenings of the year for me. (So sad this year that all I saw was "Slumdog" and "The Dark Knight," and almost nothing else that wasn't animated. But, I thought the show was great. Hugh Jackman? Consider yourself on my list.)

I hate that the OG looks so pretty and so grown up in the picture (self-portrait, natch) at the top of this post.

That's better.

P.S. OH...and, she won a first place ribbon at the Regional Science Fair! Woohoo! (It's "a" first place ribbon, not "the" first place ribbon - in that there were some with first place ribbons, some with second place ribbons, and some without any. But, nonetheless, there is a damn blue ribbon on her project, and she is BESIDE herself with joy.)

Cuteness Factor to Eleven

2009-02-18T19:21:00.000-08:00

If one needs a sweet bebeh fix, one should go no further than over to Christie and Eric's new blog,
SimonPureSimon.

Sigh. I remember the days when I documented every smile. Now, they're all elbows and bony legs and pants getting to be high-waters after no time at all.

(Admittedly, the fact that they no longer poop in their pants is a plus, but still.)

Hurray!

2009-02-16T18:20:00.000-08:00

It's time once again for the Mags Obsession List - Winter! 2009!!! Top Ten Edition!

1. My 12" cast-iron skillet. Laws, I don't know how I ever cooked without one, EVER. I will NEVER go back to crappy scratchy Alzheimers-inducing non-stick ever again for anything except eggs.

I have seasoned it just so, and never even looked at it with a bottle 0f dish soap in my hand, just as the online cast-iron fanatics have instructed me. (And, as it turns out, there are many cast-iron fanatics online. MANY.)

It's funny, though; the cast-iron skillet was always my dad's favorite cooking utensil, but they always sort of grossed me out due the non-soap issue. And, he was a damn good breakfast cook, so I probably should have listened to him. But, no, it took me until I was nearly forty years old to go get one of my own. Foolish rebellion of youth! (shakes fist)

Now, though, I think of my dad almost every day, whilst I'm lovingly scraping and salting and seasoning my beloved pan after the evening meal. (Tonight was tortilla soup...in the skillet, diced onions and garlic, and then boneless/skinless chicken breasts in olive oil with sea salt and cumin, all chopped up and thrown into last week's chicken broth with some Chili-Spiced Rotels and leftover tortilla chips. It was a total "freezer-diving" and leftover-salvaging crapshoot, but damn if it didn't turn out super fantastico with a twist of lime and some cheddar cheese.)

2. Robert Sinskey Merlot. I had waay too much of this the other night, because we were at a FREE! Steak dinner! At a schmantsy new steakhouse at The Domain! Because my husband is a total media whore! Whee!

It was goo-ood. Supple, velvety, drinkable to the point of lunacy. The Man got me a bottle for Valentine's Day, too. Good man!

3. Serial dramas. Lost, Big Love, and probably now Dollhouse, I am your bitch.

4. University of Missouri basketball. Number 11? Really? Probably won't last, but it's the cue for a fair-weather fan like me to crawl out of the woodwork waving my battered black-and-gold pom-poms.

5. Nostalgia. Facebook is wrecking my life, because I am now actually missing people that I never thought I'd ever hear from ever again.

I am actually checking - fairly regularly - a group made up of people who used to hang out at the crappy wanna-be punk bar I used to hang out at in college. If you had asked me a year ago if I'd ever want to step back into that shitty, drippy, smelly hole, I would have recoiled in horror.

Now, though? I'd throw down a watery Long Island Iced Tea in a plastic cup, briefly make out with some guy, and then stagger out on the dance floor as soon as I hear the opening strains of "Bela Lugosi's Dead," in a hot second.

6. Wonkette and Daily Beast. These have become my go-to websites at work. The earnest nature of my job requires me to imbibe in at least thrice-daily injections of erudite snark (Wonkette) and just plain entertaining Facts That I Need to Know (Daily Beast).

7. Austin's Single-Stream Recycling. Man, do you know that we, in Austin, just get to throw everything, EVERYTHING, that I want to recycle - glass, aluminum, pressed paperboard, PLASTIC TUBS, what have you - into one big, ginormous trash can? No sorting, no bagging, NOTHING, but tossing it into the can?

I am so in love with this service that I am recycling every freaking thing I can get my hands on. I'm seriously bringing my Lean Cuisine trays and boxes home from work every day.

This is a good town sometimes, you know?

8. Tiki Cat cat food (found at Bark-n-Purr). This is some SERIOUSLY fishy stuff, folks. It's like little chunks of whole sushi for my cats, and they loooove it.

I'd love to give it to them regularly, but it is some hella pricey cat food, you know?

9. Brussels Sprouts. Steamed if I'm dieting; roasted with oil, garlic, and kosher salt if I'm not.

I think that brussels sprouts are the new asparagus.

10. Cinematic Titanic. The original Mystery Science Theater guys - or several of them, anyway - are touring LIVE...and we have tickets to see them in Austin in March! I squealed like a punctured geek girl when I heard they were coming. (We couldn't afford the good seats, but, hey, it's the Paramount, it's not all THAT big.)

Finally, my chance to run away with Joel Hodgson! Don't tell Lee...

LOLCatz Winner!

2009-02-15T20:18:00.000-08:00

And the winner is...Bill Shirley!! Thanks, Bill!

If this does not make it onto that website, it is an effing CRIME.

Airport SUX

2009-02-12T20:59:00.001-08:00

Actually, it has worked very well up 'til now, but I cannot keep a GD wireless signal for more than two minutes at a stretch, and it is PISSING ME OFF to the point that I am, at the very least, not capable of posting to my neglected blog, and, at worst, going to THROW THIS laptop through the screen of my crappy old tube TV.

Talk amongst yourselves. Oh, and you should watch these five minutes of Colbert from the other night, which made me laugh far harder than anything else has this week.

The Colbert ReportMon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c

Truth From the Gut

Colbert Report Full Episodes
Funny Political News

Christian Bale Parody
Joke of the Day

My Quo? Why, it's Status!

2009-02-04T18:57:00.001-08:00

Hey, hi! Sorry to leave you staring at my dream reverie posting, as I'm fairly certain that hearing about other people's dreams falls somewhere on the "looking at other people's vacation slides" boring scale.

(And, how old am I, that I even know what "vacation slides" are? Man, we have so many of those damn things back in Kansas City. I should probably have them all transferred to DVD for my mom's birthday.)

Not much to relate here. I recovered from the Evil Virus of 2009, or nearly so; just a little lingering cough/sore throat and a bit of residual goo left. Those of you with kids, beware; I know it is hitting the schools hard.

We had a fun time at the Noxious's Super Bowl party, as always. I made green chile sour cream enchiladas to represent the Arizona team. I generally do these fabulously when I make the enchilada sauce from scratch (or at least from whole canned Hatch chiles,) but the size of the order forced me to rely partially on canned enchilada sauce. So, while very tasty, they weren't quite as perfect as usual.

To represent the Pittsburgh team, Cristen and I combined to create the famous Primanti Brothers sandwich...the hot deli sandwich with the french fries and the cole slaw on top. Being as we've neither one ever had this sandwich, I think we did a pretty good job. Cristen heated up pastrami, cheese, and proscuitto, and layered it all on Italian bread. We topped it with this slaw I made and waffle-cut french fries, and I must say, it is probably a good thing I did not know about this sandwich up until now, because I would otherwise be roughly the size of my house by now.

Oh, my gaw, though, this coleslaw I made? I looked it up on line, 'cause it was supposed to be close to the Primanti Brothers recipe...not a mayonnaise-based slaw, but a vinegar slaw? Was HEAVEN. And I don't particularly like coleslaw of any kind! I just finished the last of it, and it represents, by far, the largest amount of coleslaw that I have ever voluntarily eaten, ever...probably combined. Yum yum yum. Who knew that all it would take to make raw cabbage palatable to me was a full cup of sugar and some organic unfiltered apple cider vinegar?

(Along those lines, I must make a note to myself to put organic unfiltered apple cider vinegar into every recipe I make from now on, ever. NOW I understand why six dollars for a bottle of friggin' vinegar. I kind of wish I didn't know. Gawd, I could go drink it right now.)

OH...it's not really my news to share, but I'm so excited...my friends Christie and Eric adopted a baby! A baby boy...whose name I shall not reveal here BUT which was my second all-time (unused, obviously) favorite baby boy name of all time AND is that of my most beloved celebrity crush 4-EVAH. I am so delighted for them that I just want to burst. They are going to be - they ARE - the best parents ever. Yah!!!

And...um...

Spending too much time on Facebook.

Was doing really really well on the exercise until I got sick, and now am slowly getting back on the horse (or the crosstrainer, if you will). I feel stronger, am smaller (according to my clothes and my husband and my measurements,) but still weigh the goddamn same.

Thinking about my kids' upcoming birthdays, and not thinking I want to really do very much for them. Wondering if that makes me the worst mother in the world.

Falling behind on Lost. Seriously looking forward to Dollhouse, the latest Joss Whedon development, which starts next Friday night.

Wishing Bookhart and Badger had never brought up fresh-baked sourdough bread, because that is the LAST thing I need, and yet ALL I can think about lately.

Still haven't seen Slumdog Millionaire, The Wrestler, Benjamin Button, or damn near anything that isn't animated, at the theater. Finally saw (and loved) Tropic Thunder. Am going to watch Hamlet 2 THIS WEEKEND, damn it. Kind of am in love with Steve Coogan.

Currently? Watching the UT/MU basketball game with The Man and a very cuddly Iris. Feeling rather glum regarding all sports involving my team and UT. (In my best Cartman voice, I hate those guys. Seriously.)

Es todo. Y tu?

Analyze This

2009-01-28T18:59:00.000-08:00

One of the recurring dreams I'm having lately is about houses.

It's always my house in the dream, but it's not my ACTUAL house, which is smallish, rather nondescript and single-story. When I dream this dream, I have sold my current house and have moved into this other place. I seem to usually be taking someone on a tour of my new house.

The details of this house vary, but it seems that it is either multi-leveled or with multiple, curving hallways. On this tour that I'm giving, it is occurring to me that I have perhaps made a serious mistake in selling my (real) house to purchase this new place. It's clearly bigger, and I seem to be trying to talk myself into believing that the floor space alone was a good reason to buy it. And, a few of the rooms seem OK; brightly lit, with decent furniture.

But, as I'm touring the place with this person, I am suddenly very aware that there are places where the paint is peeling, and there are boards showing through the drywall. There's been water damage, and the floorboards are spongy and smell of mold.

In one incarnation of the dream, I go down to the basement, and there are rooms down there that someone left without emptying, with, like, old beer cans and cigarette butts and dirty laundry that have sat there for years, untouched. In another version, I am walking down one of the twisty hallways, thinking, "Geez, who thought up this floor plan? I don't think I even know where this one GOES!" And, when I get to the end, it's another of these shabby, shitty rooms.

The rooms aren't scary, exactly, but they are very - um, unsettling. It's not like there's a murderer or a dead body in them...it's more like I get this sinking feeling when I open the door, like, "Oh, crap, that room needs a LOT of cleaning up." I always kind of start to pick up a few things, and then it's just too much for me, and I leave the room. And that's about it.

I'm sure this is all very fraught with symbolism. Anyone do dream analysis? I'm sure it's something along the lines of the house being a symbol for the self, and that I'm probably need to cleanse my psyche of all my buried, inner trauma.

I really think I just need to clean my house, though.

The other dream I keep having is of kissing people I know. Co-workers, acquaintances, old friends, current friends. There does not seem to be a correlation between whom I kiss and who (in the real world) that I actually find attractive. It's not really passionate kissing, either, and it doesn't lead to anything sexual. (And, oddly, I'm never cheating on Lee, as it's either just fine with him, or it's like before I met him.) It's just kissing that flummoxes me, even in my dream. I've even kissed girls in my dreams, and I'm super-boringly straight in real life.

It really doesn't pain me, I suppose, but I always feel somewhat guilty in the morning, not to mention a little weird the next time I see that person. (Last night's was a poker person. And no, I won't tell you who.)

Help me, doc! Am I a dream lip-slut?

------------------------
And ZOMG, oh no she did NOT say that!

BWAH-ha-ha-ha!

(As found over at Teetering Between, an awesome blog I need to add to my roll to the right.)

Caption My Iris LOLCat!

2009-01-25T13:01:00.000-08:00

Agh...my head is too congested and stupid to think of a funny caption! Help a girl out, willya?

Something Special For Karla May

2009-01-23T17:09:00.001-08:00

You REALLY haven't seen the Star Wars Trilogy?

Could you do better than this?

The Star Wars Trilogy (As Retold by Someone Who Hasn't Seen It)

Thanks, Arky Trish! You know me well. (Should, though, what's it been, like 30 years or something absurd like that?)

Maybe I'm Amazed

2009-01-20T18:48:00.000-08:00

Tomorrow, the work begins.

I am suddenly struck by the enormity of the task ahead of us, and of the impossibly high expectations that BHO faces. As the great philosopher Daniel Ash once said, when you're down, it's a long way up. And, of course, when you're up, it's a long way down.

I'm terrified for his safety, and may be holding my breath and crossing my fingers - and desperately hoping that his security detail is made up of hundreds of individual Batmans on Adderall - for the next four years.

Tonight, though, I crack the pinot noir, and toast my new president, and my beautiful first lady. (And, Jill Biden? Wearing that red dress with the Eff Me Boots? You kick ass!)

Your steady snark drip returns tomorrow. Peace out.

Kthxbye

2009-01-19T14:06:00.000-08:00

Dear W,

At last, at LAST, it is time for us to say goodbye. Eight years? Seems like fifty.

I'm not going to lie to you; I never liked you. Oh, yes, way back in the day, when you were just the ineffectual governor of my state, I might have murmured something less than completely hostile about you from time to time, such as "Oh, well, he's not particularly racist, for a Republican."

(Which does appear to be true, if I can still summon up the will to cut him the tiniest sliver of a break. At least personally, I don't think he's racist, nor do I think he hates immigrants with the slobbering vitriol that his cohorts in the right--wing base do. There you go.)

However, even then, I didn't buy any of this "affable" crap. I HATE it when people use that word to describe you. You are the farthest thing from "affable" that I can think of. You are, in fact, a sullen, spoiled little frat boy with a cruel streak, and the diametric opposite of any person that "I would have a beer with."

I am so tired of your smirking, stupid voice. "Nails on a chalkboard" would be the most charitable comparison. Towards the end, it was more like a broomstick in a generator. For at least the past six years, I have turned off HOW many news programs because, unbidden, the howl would escape from my lips..."Oh, god, he's TALKING again!"...and off it would go.

I'd love to write here all of the reasons I hate you so, so much, but the length of that list is, quite frankly, daunting. I'd have to neglect my children's dinner, and their bedtime, and quite possibly getting them to school in the morning. (And, there is already a super awesome one here, as it turns out.) But, here's...oh, 15 reasons, off the top of my head:

1) Iraq - everything, EVERYTHING - 4000+ American lives, "greeting us with roses," lies, treason, "yellowcake," "Mission Accomplished," an occupation that will last us 100 years. Dear lord, I just...I just weep.

2) Katrina - no explanation necessary. This response was one of the most vile stains on our nation's history. Heckuva job.

3) Abu Ghraib

4) Gitmo

5) The outing of Valerie Plame - which is by definition, a SECURITY BREACH, you paranoid jingoist BASTARDS - as retaliation for her husband writing an editorial.

6) The Bush/Cheney/Gonzalez-orchestrated purging of justice department employees who were not considered sufficient party loyalists - and then LYING about the reason, thus smearing their reputation immeasurably, and unfairly, and GOD I HATE THEM

7) The appointment of TWO Supreme Court justices that, even now, if given a chance, will set back the rights of women forty years

8) Ignoring the "Bin Laden Determined To Attack Within the US" memo (August, 2001)

9) The 2000 election by judicial fiat (oh, man, the "Brooks Brothers Riot," Katherine Harris, "Sore-Loserman"... ah, memories!)

10) Jeff Gannon, Male Prostitute

11) Enron

12) Paying conservative "journalists" to shill for No Child Left Behind

13) No Child Left Behind (a.k.a. "No Child Left Untested")

14) John Ashcroft, my homeboy; singer of patriotic harmony and coverer of statue boobs

15) One word...Cheney! I'm almost inspired to compose something to the tune of "Maria." (Almost. Because to do so would be to spend valuable minutes of my life thinking of him. And that I will not do.)

It's so time for you to go now. It was so time four - eight - years ago. You - you - incurious, ignorant, ungracious little man. If you had had any sense of yourself, and your own limitations, you would have refused their cynical kingmaking scheme in the first place, and not let this travesty occur in the first place.

As I've stated before, I do not think Barack Obama is the messiah. I believe he is a politician, although a preternaturally gifted one. And, I will admit to rolling my eyes a bit when the MSNBC anchors tonight were talking about a lady being saved from choking today at an inauguration dinner, and the Hudson River plane crash, as the "beginning of the Obama miracles." (Tongue-in-cheek, one assumes...but, hey, have you WATCHED MSNBC lately?)

But, nevertheless, I am so, so happy, to have someone leading this nation that is not a worldwide laughing stock. Who has thoughts. Of his own. Who converses with others he disagrees with. Who has READ A BOOK or two. Who can speak in complete sentences.

BO; welcome, sir. I sit, tonight, in great anticipation of tomorrow. I fully expect to haul my li'l 12-inch TV to work, and I'll watch every second that I can.

GWB; I hope never to hear your voice again. (Although, truth be told, I might prefer it slightly over Palin's.) Please enjoy your time in Dallas with the other rich white bastards in your gated community. We'd prefer if you stay locked behind the gates, though; we don't really want your kind mixing with the civilized folks.

Goodbye. Don't let the front door hit ya where the good lord split ya.

We're done.

Blogger Suckage

2009-01-14T20:13:00.000-08:00

**UPDATE** - It appears the "Spreading Wal-Marts" map was the culprit. Let me know if it's not all fixded now.

Hi all,

I am hearing that there is a PROBLEM viewing my blog. I noticed that I could no longer see it at work, but I thought it was just some weirdness on our server's end.

Very possibly, one of the widgets may not be working anymore, so I was about to go in and delete them (at least Backwards Bush...no more need! Yaaaay) - HOWEVER, the "delete widgets" function ALSO appears to be effed up.

Soooo...I'll keep working on it; apologies for any difficulty on your end.

In the meantime, please go over to read this Most Loathsome People of 2008 list. This is the list I intended to write, but they did it MUCH MUCH better than I ever could.

Of the OG

2009-01-12T19:15:00.000-08:00

My dear little OG is going through her annual winter blahs.

By "blahs," what I mean is this somewhat controversial syndrome called PANDAS. PANDAS stands for "Pediatric Autoimmune Neuropsychiatric Disorders Associated with Strep" (which is, upon examination, a rather tortured acronym, but whaddya gonna do). She was diagnosed with it a couple years ago, by the nutty West Austin doctors that specialize in this sort of thing (e.g. ADHD, autism, Tourette's).

Kids with this syndrome react with neurologic symptoms - e.g. tics, obsessive/compulsive behavior, hyperactive/impulsive behavior changes, mood lability - to the presence of elevated strep titers, or the antibodies created after an exposure to strep. These kids are misdiagnosed all the time as ADHD, or Tourette's, or Asperger's. (If you Google it, look up "PANDAS" and "strep," because if you leave out the "strep" part, all you get is stuff about...um, pandas. Ask me how I know.)

What's different about PANDAS kids is that they have these episodes, usually during cold and flu season, for several weeks, long enough for you to start thinking "oh, my god, my child is INSANE....and then, they GET BETTER. And they aren't crazy, tic-ing, repetitive, hyperactive nutballs anymore! They're fine!

Unfortunately, it's cold and flu season again, and the OG got her first strep exposure of the season via her little cousin (who is a strep carrier, I think...one of those kiddos that has it ALL the time. That's not good, either.) About a week later, she started in with the fatigue, and sleeping until ten o'clock, which is NOT typical behavior for my Type A morning girl.

However, I didn't know she was truly getting sick until she started engaging in the most BIZARRE behavior, for her, that I have ever seen. And, believe me, I love her and respect her and think she is the coolest chick in the world...but that is saying something!

What she is doing is stressing - to the point of sobbing, sometimes - over the guilt she feels about thinking something bad about someone. Not SAYING it, mind you...just THINKING about it. For like two weeks she has cried multiple times per day about death. Why? Because she is terrified that if she thinks about someone dying, it must mean she WANTS them to die, and what if they DID die, and what if she CAUSED them to die by THINKING about them dying, and boo hoo hoo hoo!

Or, like, when she thinks something insulting about someone, she feels ABSOLUTELY COMPELLED to tell me about it! Every day! Like, I pick her up from school, and she immediately volunteers - often crying - "I thought about calling someone a nincompoop today," or "It occurred to me that so-and-so is overweight. WHAT IF I CALLED THEM FAT? Boo hoo hoo! Am I a horrible person?"

The good part, like I mentioned, is that we've been here before, and know it'll get better. Our marvelous female pediatrician - as good the missed and lamented Dr. H., but with an actual bedside manner - agreed to put her on the same hardcore antibiotics, a MONTH of Zithromax, that the West Austin freaky doctor clinic put her on a couple of years ago, which WORKED. (I LOVE her. I LOVE that she believes me, and that she actually read the doctor's report, and that she called me well after hours to talk about what she read. The OG asked me if she was my doctor, and I said, wistfully, "I wish...")

And, yes, a week into the antibiotics, she's already way better. She's still feeling the need to tell me every evil thought she has - and is just a little too interested in what exact words are "cuss" words, but that may just be because she's in third grade - but her facial tics have stopped, and she's no longer freaking out her after-school teacher by sobbing about how all she thinks about is death. (I had a brief "don't call CPS" moment, there, having to explain to the nice concerned young lady, "No, she's not depressed; no, there's nothing weird going on at home; no, we don't systematically kill her pets one by one in front of her.")

The other good part is that I think she has finally tapped into her bleeding-heart liberal side, which she could not help but have. It's like, suddenly, empathy has entered her heart, and it's freakin' BREAKING it. I think she's suppressed thinking about pain and suffering and loss up till now. But, now, though she's completely devastated by these notions, I think she has reached the point that she can wrap her mind around them. And, lo and behold, she's being nice to her sister - hugging, comforting, and EVEN SLEEPING with her - due to, I think, her sudden realization that we don't have each other forever.

Raising kids is hard. Although kind of funny. Two rather priceless moment during all this: First, over break, The Man was giving her some minor reprimand for something, and told her to go sit in her room for a bit. I came by a bit later and heard her crying. I asked her what was wrong, and she said, "I got in trouble. AND I CALLED DADDY 'STUPID'!"

I'm all, hmmm...that doesn't sound right. So, I said, "Um...to his face?" And she sobbed, breaking down, "No, but I THOUGHT IT!!!"

Next, the other night, she came up to me, stricken, saying "I keep thinking about a cuss word!" I said, OK, what word is it? She said, "It's um...(whimper, whine)...I CAN'T SAY IT!!!" I gently prodded a bit longer, and she finally said, "It's...THE 'C' WORD!"

Me, I'm all..."What 'C' word do you mean?" Because, I tell you, my mind was kinda reeling. She replied, "The...'CR' word!"

Oh..."crap," of course.

My Spring 2009 Workout Mix

2009-01-11T20:08:00.000-08:00

In attempting to fulfill my perennial New Year's Resolution, it occurred to me that a fresh start on the exercise campaign required a new workout mix on the old pod. So, after a brief yet manic indulgence at iTunes (and with some assistance from Erin's kickass Christmas mix CDs) this is what I've come up with:

(Note: Not all of the music is new; it's just new to ME. And, not all of the music is what you would call, um, GOOD. I cannot help that. The workout wants what the workout wants.)

1) The Jimmy Choos - Chester French
I think this is the only song I've ever bought without hearing it, and strictly on the basis of an article I read - at the gym, no less - in Blender. It's quite infectious, and who doesn't love a chorus that involves the repeated elongation of the word "Choos," as in "She's got...Jimmy Chooooos, ooooos, oooooos!"

2) Feel Good Inc - Gorillaz
I held off on buying this song until I didn't hear it on every radio station like 10 times a day. When I was no longer sick of it, I realized that I desperately needed it.

3) Ruby - Kaiser Chiefs

4) L.E.S. Artistes - Santogold
I LOVE this album. Modern-day Philly girl that sounds like Dale Bozzio from Missing Persons. Also "You'll Find A Way." This whole album makes me feel swirly/dancey as a 21-year-old.

5) Never Miss A Beat - Kaiser Chiefs

6) Chelsea Dagger - The Fratellis
It's a car commercial song, but I kinda love it. Sorry, hipster cred, you will just have to endure yet another slight.

7) The Mesopotamians - They Might Be Giants
I defy you to listen to this song ONE TIME without getting it stuck in your head FOREVER.

8) Pocket Full of Sunshine - Natasha Bedingfield
I TOLD you not all of it was good. Hey, I bought it for the OG, NOT myself. But, it works on an elliptical in ways that I cannot describe.

9) Mercy - Duffy
It's a commercial song, too, but at least I can honestly say that I liked it well before that. Didn't like the rest of this album, but this song cannot be denied.

10) Rock and Roll Machine - The Donnas
Not quite the Ramones, but a reasonable substitution. Plus, chick band, which is always cool.

11) A-Punk - Vampire Weekend
Same thing about not buying it until I wasn't sick of it anymore. Now, I'm glad to have it.

12) Golden Age - TV on the Radio
I think this might be the next whole album I get. They interest me quite a bit.

13) Love in a Trashcan - The Raveonettes
Doesn't Jack White have something to do with this band, or am I thinking of something else?

14) In These Shoes? - Kirsty MacColl
Definitely not new. But I love having this "cougarish" song playing in my ear as I survey all the nubile coeds at 24-Year-Old Fitness.

15) I'm Not Going To Teach Your Boyfriend How To Dance With You - The Black Kids

16) White Winter Hymnal - Fleet Foxes
I HATE HATE HATE whoever got this song stuck in my head - not sure if it was Badger, or goddam John Aielli on Eklektikos, or who, but it WILL NOT LEAVE and the only remedy is to listen to it on my iPod like twice a day. It's good for cooldowns, as is...

17) The Crane Wife #3 - The Decemberists
Except it makes me sad. And I hate to get teary-eyed at the gym, because, you know, I look so AWESOME otherwise.

18) Cuts You Up - Peter Murphy
Because no playlist is complete without some form of 80's goth. Represent!

OK, it's currently rather heavy on the jangly white boy angsty intellectual-nerd music that I am always attracted to. But, it helps me get my sweat on.

I am, however, taking submissions...what is this list missing? Lay all your love on me.

(I am considering throwing that damn Beyonce "Ring on It" song in the mix; again, mostly to help get it out of my head, but also because it lends itself to the shakin of the booteh.)

Just a survey...

2009-01-09T16:03:00.000-08:00

Can you guess which one of these headlines from Yahoo! News made me scream out loud just now?

(Hint: For once, it has NOTHING to do with Sarah Palin.)

LOL Stoops!

2009-01-09T12:44:00.000-08:00

Eh...this is too tiny. (Lee sez you can click on it to enlarge it.)

But is it not super awesome happy fun to remind ourselves of the FIVE STRAIGHT TIMES that stupid Oklahoma has lost the title game?*

*Sorry, Jaye. JK! (O noes I'm not! LOLZ! )

There's Bacon on my Website!

2009-01-05T12:11:00.001-08:00

Super Cool!!

Relax; you jealous freaks can have bacon on YOUR website, too.

Winter Break Movie Rundown

2009-01-03T20:22:00.001-08:00

Over the past two weeks - Ah! Short, wonderful, winter break! How I will miss you day after tomorrow - I've had the chance to catch up on a few movies that I've missed over the past year or so. (Some I watched by choice, and some I saw just by virtue of being at my mother's house in her comfy recliners and feeling that changing the channel would require just too much exercise.) Here's a rundown of what I've seen thus far:

1) Once - Cristen and I watched this one last night. I really liked it. Quiet little movie - almost a musical - that sinks into your subconscious mind and hangs, rather tenaciously, for quite some time after you've seen it. It's short, and unassuming, and just does what it does without fuss...but leaves you aching.

Fantastic soundtrack, too. It's going on my iTunes forthwith.

2) Casino Royale - Yeah, I know, I know, it's like two years old. I REALLY don't see movies like I used to. And, to be honest, I've never actually ELECTED to watch a James Bond movie before. I've seen a few, but usually because some guy I liked at the time wanted to go see one. They've always left me cold (even View to a Kill, my favorite due to the sole reason that Duran Duran did the theme song. I remember nothing else about it other than Grace Jones, however). But, everybody raved about how great this one was, and I have liked Daniel Craig in everything I've seen him in - and, plus, I knew it was about poker, a hobby/slavish habit of mine - so I turned it on while we were in KC.

And? Well...I guess I'm just a James Bond philistine, because I thought it was just another Bond movie. I will not deny that Daniel Craig is super hot, and fills out a tux better than just about anybody except George Clooney, and that he is a reasonably good actor overall. And, I liked his thuggy take on the Bond character, which provided me more interest than the movie itself. But, it's nothing I'd really seek to watch again, which is always my measure of a great movie.

3) The Golden Compass - I had heard mixed reviews about this one, but I liked it fairly well. I'm glad I've seen it before the girls do, if for nothing else than the fact that I now have some semblance of an idea of what exactly the fuck this story is about, for explanation purposes. I have the book, but haven't read it yet...I'll probably dig it out and give it a whirl, as I'm in between books at the moment.

Daniel Craig, again, is very good, as is the main girl, as is Nicole Kidman. You know, I don't think of myself as a huge Nicole fan, but I can't think of a movie that I absolutely hated with her in it. (I even liked Eyes Wide Shut, and I think I am the only person in the world who did. I did fall asleep in The Hours, but I was on a transatlantic flight, and had had quite a bit of red wine, and possibly a Xanax.) Moulin Rouge? To Die For? Flirting? I think I must like her just fine.

4) The Bucket List - This one goes under the category of "can't get up to change the channel." No, actually, my mom made me watch it. It was...eh. A gratingly predictable tearjerker. I will admit to tearing up at the end, but I was even annoyed by that total bit of manipulation. Oh, gee, Morgan Freeman is noble and elderly, and Nicholson is a giant canned ham with a cackle that belies his inner pain. Very original.

(It is entirely possible that I am just an unfeeling jerk, however. Carry on.)

5) Prince Caspian - Again, I really must read the book before I attempt to explain this one to my children. Who was that guy again? What land is he from? Is he Trumpkin? Snufflefrump? Wizzleguard? How about Bumpletum? Whangdoodle? Why are they fighting? Why are they fighting NOW? Who knows? Hell if I do...

Actually, we only made it halfway into this one tonight before we had to call it quits. It's long, and it was late, and the deaths in it were freaking out the OG to some degree, and there was the matter of an exciting football game going on that The Man couldn't help but notice. We'll watch the rest tomorrow, presumably.

6) Bolt - One of two that I saw in the theater. LOVED it. It's basically a Pixar movie, and it's written as well as the Pixar flicks. Funny, sweet, touching. This one EARNED my tearing up at the end, damn it. This is one I feel confident we'll buy.

7) The Tale of Despereaux - The other one I saw in the theater. (And yes, there is a theme to movies I tend to see in theaters. The key letters always include "G.")

Voices by Kevin Kline? Dustin Hoffman? Sigourney Weaver? Matthew Broderick? TRACEY ULLMAN? Beautiful animation, like a Boticelli set to motion? You would think I would totally love this one.

And...no. I really did not love it. It is long, and slow, and my generally good movie-watching children were fidgeting noticeably, as was my ADHD husband. Go see Bolt instead.

----------------------------
Next up on the Netflix: Tropic Thunder and Forgetting Sarah Marshall.

Sadly, I just hope I get to them before spring break.

Check out the GWB countdown calendar...

2009-01-02T20:13:00.000-08:00

It says that there are only 17 DAYS LEFT of Bush's presidency.

Can you even believe this long national nightmare is almost over?

Screw Christmas. THIS is the day I'll be anticipating this year. (Oh, and also when Flight of the Conchords starts back up again.)

In Which My Hiatus is Placed On Hiatus

2008-12-29T20:05:00.000-08:00

Hey! Hi! I'm back!

From Kansas City! Which we drove to! Which takes 12 hours in a car if you DON'T have youngish children with unpredictable toileting needs! Because then it takes 14 hours! And if your tiny little wagon-car is full of Christmas presents to the point of absurdity, it turns out it's really really cramped and uncomfortable!

And, those factors, plus a late start due to caution regarding some snow on the streets, plus a brief stop at the in-laws to pick up MORE Christmas presents and a recalcitrant Shih-Tzu, equals an arrival in Austin at 11:00 P.M, for a grand sum travel time of 15 hours!

Which makes Mags tired! So tired.

And fat. Who the hell opened my mouth and forced all that pie down it for a week? Oh, yes, it was my mother. (And those of you who think I'm joking have not met my mother.)

Anyway, it's very good to be back in the land of reasonable temperatures. Seriously, man; the day we arrived in KC, it got to SIX BELOW. Jeebus, that is NOT O.K..

Here's some snaps fer ya...

1) The YG gets a much-desired Easy Bake Oven from the in-laws in Salado (on the way up to KC):

2) The YG at Grandma's house in Kansas City, serenading us with the Karaoke Santa mike with one of her very own Rock And Roll Songs:

I can't remember if that one was "Parents, You Should Rock Your Kids...At Night" or if it was "Mama, Please Don't Go Away From Me."

3-7) My children were very, very, VERY attached to one another over this trip.

It was somewhat alarming. All I've done for the past three years is separate them, because they clearly could not stand each other. Now, I'm completely confused. What, you suddenly love each other? Kids are FREAKS.

8) BABY ALIVE!!!

It pees AND poops, people. And I'm sad to say, I SO did not want to get this messy-ass thing for her. However, I did remember HOW MUCH I wanted a Baby Alive when I was little, and how delighted I was when I got one for Christmas. So, relenting happened.

It is SO MUCH mess. Bleah! However, she is absolutely delighted. So, I guess it's all good.

9-10) Snow pictures.

The OG is the only one in these, you will notice. I did ask both girls if they wanted to go play in the snow. Both of them said "Yeah!" very enthusiastically. However, when I told the YG (known in our parts as "Laze-oid,") that she would have to actually put on PANTS to do this, she said, "Oh, never mind." So that is NOT MY FAULT.

11) Eating snowflakes (when the YG could actually be arsed to clothe herself for the day, albeit in a tiger skin catsuit that she wore not only all day THIS day, but nearly two days longer thereafter):

12) Back in the sunshine at the border, whoop:
and finally, 13) Humiliating the Shih-Tzu with the elf costume upon our return:

You know what? No pity for her. She's a Shih-Tzu. They DESERVE to be humiliated. (And you know you agree with that statement.)

From Me To Ya('ll)

2008-12-25T21:02:00.000-08:00

Happy Christmukkuh!

(It's worth playing all the way through, if you haven't seen it. Thanks to Philly E for the tip!)

2008-12-17T19:55:00.000-08:00

Ah, crap. I am just going to have to admit defeat and call my holiday blogging hiatus a bit early this year. There is just Too. Much. To. Do.

I'll get in here when I can, and when the family bears escaping. But I just have NOTHING to put forth right now, and little time to do it, if I did.

It's probably Lack-Of-iPhone Depression. (Is that in the DSM-IV)

Dare I buy these Christmas cards?

2008-12-14T18:25:00.000-08:00

I saw this hanging on Shirl's fridge, when we were at his Lights in the Heights party in Houston last night:

I want them SO BADLY.

The party? Most excellent. Except for the part where I fell through a hole in the porch up to my knee, therein causing my entire right shin to resemble nothing so much as an eggplant. (Was alcohol and/or my inherent clumsiness involved? You bet! However, in fairness, there was also a HOLE IN THE PORCH. )

I'll write about all that tomorrow, if'n I get my six dozen Pignoli cookies made in time.

Tuesday night updates

2008-12-09T20:22:00.000-08:00

The weather sucks in Austin tonight, which means I get to play my favorite Austin news-watching game, namely "Turn On All the Broadcasts and Listen to Them Say How Much the Weather Sucks Tonight."

It is a delightful game, I tell you. "On tonight's news...it SUCKS out there! It is SO very sucky! It is cold! And it is raining! And...I JUST FELT SOME SLEET! So let me go stand out on an overpass somewhere in a parka, just to show you how SHITTY this weather is!"

Speaking of shitty, I just came back from seeing "Twilight" with Cristen and some of her work friends. Ah, well, that is perhaps overstating it a bit. I had a lovely time, and was thoroughly entertained, and had awesome company. And, I really re-thought my opinion, as soon as I figured out, about halfway through the movie, that it is actually a COMEDY, and that it was apparently OK that we were laughing hysterically all the way through it. No, I'm serious, it is super-camp. Why I didn't figure that out five minutes into the movie, when there is a straight-from-David-Lynch "logging truck driving past the diner shot," is beyond me.

The books, though, like I said...eh. I've only read the first one. I bought the second, but it's been on my shelf for a while. I've started The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, and I am totally immersed in it. Good read. Brisk, funny, educational, and has mad snaps to the sci-fi geek within me.

Work has been reasonably stressful lately. Usually is this time of year, no different than usual. Actually, it might even be somewhat less than in prior Decembers; I've gotten a lot of my work done, and have only a few looong meetings left to attend before my days off around Christmas. Three. No, four. No, shit, five. But, hey, it's been worse.

Holiday planning is afoot. Family time is planned, presents are mostly purchased. Not big pickings this year. No flatscreen for me; I'm sitting on my flatscreen TV right now, which is to say I'm sitting on my new couch, which must take the place of said theoretical TV for the time being. Oh, and I'll soon be receiving my new washer and dryer, bought on sale yesterday, to replace the only five-years-old washer and dryer set from SuckAss Sears that no longer, quote, "washes," or "dries" my clothing. So, there, too, goes more disposable income. What's next, mechanical gods, my car?*

Es todo. Y tu? Como estas?

*jinx protection...noooooo, damn fates! Don't! Do! It!

The OG's Christmas list

2008-12-08T18:45:00.000-08:00

Spelling and punctuation hers.

It starts out with a preface...we in the Mags household are nothing, if not anxious:

Dear Mama,
I have some expensive things on this list. so if you come over one. Just. Cross. it. out. Like this (X).

OG (first and last name)

The next page contained the meat of the piece, which was diligently ranked (although not ordered; we must have a time in the punishment closet for that one) for me:

OG:
11th Mario Super Sluggers (Wii)
12th Magnetix
4th Super Mario Galaxy (Wii)
3rd Mario and Sonic at the Olympic Games (Wii)
14th Mario Party 8 (Wii)
13th Boom Blox (Wii)
1st! Sonic Unleashed (Wii)
2nd! Clone Wars (Wii)
23rd Littlest Pet Shop (Wii)
15th Lego Star Wars (Wii)
5th Wall-E (Wii)
16th Lego Batman (DS)
6th Pokemon Battle Revolution (Wii)
17th Super Mario (DS)
7th Guitar Hero (Wii)
18th Drawn to Life (DS)
20th Sorry Sliders (??? Is it not electronic? Quell outrage!)
8th Kung Fu Panda (DS)
22nd Uno Attack!
10th Legos, Legos, LEGOS!
9th Mario Land (Wii)

and the second page contained the OG's helpful reporting for the YG, as of yet unable to compose a comprehensive list on her own:

YG:
Black Pants
Tini Puppini (again, no electronic suffix? Then what on earth could this thing be?)
easybake oven
Barbie as the Island Princess (Wii)
pink ornaments
a christmas star (jewellry)
a gold vase (Big!)
candy (Big!)
stocking
ketchup (tomato)
Dr. Pepper

As you can see, Christmas will be a joyous affair at our house, with the OG opening her $4000 worth of mind-melting gaming technology, while her younger sister revels in her treasured heist of black pants and ketchup.

O Holy Night, indeed.

My Newest (Deeply Misplaced) Celebrity Crush

2008-12-06T20:52:00.000-08:00

Yes, I heart Neil Patrick Harris.

Harold and Kumar, plus How I Met Your Mother, plus Dr. Horrible's Singalong Blog, equals some Mags-n-Neil bliss. (And did you see him shirtless on HIMYM last week? Cripes! He's totally cut, too!)

And, I don't care that he's gay, and that he's like 12. Or that he was Doogie. He's totally my man.

Am I weird? Does he totally do it for anybody else?

How to Amuse Yourself at Your Next Workshop/Convention/Meet-n-Greet

2008-12-05T19:50:00.000-08:00

Snaps to Connie, who made me laugh on an otherwise seriously stressful workday. Inconceivable!

Halls...Decked!

2008-12-01T19:17:00.000-08:00

Well, I got our tree up, anyway.

I know, it's sad, my children have to live with a four-foot-tall tree. But, damn it, though she has improved IMMENSELY, I just cannot trust this damn dog with the peeing just yet, ever since the Couch Incident (which turned out well, but still).

Maybe you'll get a big tree to play under next year, chilluns. For this year, y'all can just hang out on the bare hardwood floor, like usual.

Actually, I really want a big shiny silver aluminum tree; the kind with the rotating color light shining up on it. But, I've been pricing those things on Craigslist, and they go for $300 in good condition now. Plus shipping!

I suppose I need to wrap my mind around buying one in like June, so as hopefully to get a more reasonable price, but I am just not that person. I am very in the moment, like I always have been, and have a hard time thinking that way. Like I know people who have their Christmas shopping done already, whereas I only very reluctantly started yesterday. (No, wait, I did buy two cheap Wii games at Target a while back, and stashed them away. Somewhere. See, I am not good at this.)

So, if anyone sees a reasonably-priced aluminum tree for sale somewhere, let me know. I am feeling the serious need for a slow, colored strobelight in my living room.

My Big Belleh

2008-11-27T19:17:00.001-08:00

Happy Thanksgiving, everybody!

My food baby is poufing out over the top of my jeans, which clearly indicates that I in no way can clean house right now. I might pull a muscle, or something. Or give myself a giant pie hernia. So, instead, I'm hanging out on my new couch, with all my new cats, and watching football instead.

It was a nice, cazh day around here. We drove out to West Austin this morning to The Man's aunt's house, where we had a nice, largish family gathering and a delicious brined THIRTY EFFING POUND turkey. I am inspired to try it; I've brined chickens, and turkey breasts, before, but not a whole turkey myself. Of course, there's the fact that my family probably could not really EAT a whole turkey without getting desperately sick of it...but, nonetheless, this time of year, I am always inspired to try. (Perhaps this, too, will pass. TM's aunt gave us tons of leftovers.)

After that, I took TM down to the football game (Texas vs. Texas A&M, a historic rivalry, for those not in the know of such things. It's really just a symbolic rivalry this year, as A&M is just not the powerhouse that it has been in prior years. The score is currently 42-9. I'm sorry, Dave. Missouri fans feel your pain.) while the girls and I went over to Mick and Adam's annual Thanksgiving fried-turkey, bocce, cranberry margaritas, and poker party.

I managed to choke down another partial plate of food (mmm...fried turkey!) somehow, and had a couple margaritas. I ended up coming on back home, instead of playing poker into the evening, as the children were plainly just NOT in a place to sit and watch a video in peace. I wasn't too harsh on them, as they were pretty fried from staying up too late the night before, when we were over t' the Noxiouses' house.

So, honestly, not much to report. Just full-n-tired-n-watchin' football. You?

(Oh, and do you know of this Rick Rolling?)

The OG won the grand prize in the science fair!

2008-11-23T20:01:00.000-08:00

OK, so it was just the grand prize in her class, but hell's bells, let's throw 'em in the air for the OG!

Thanks to her grandma, who is a microbiologist, we all came up with an easy experiment; testing various hand-washing methods via pressing her hand into a petri dish, and then counting the bacterial colonies after the dishes spent the night in Grandma's lab incubator at work. So, it was not only easy, it had the all-important "gross-out" factor, so very necessary to impress the average contingent of eight-year-olds.

I am so excited for her, and she is THRILLED. I got a little nervous that she wasn't doing enough, so we made double-dog sure she did all the writing and research herself, and that she helped take the pictures of the petri dishes, that sort of thing. However, I apparently needn't have worried, as her teacher clearly believed that she did do the work. (And I KNOW that her teacher quizzed her on the procedure and the findings. She is a big believer in personal responsibility, which has been a GODSEND to the OG and her scattered, disorganized way.)

Oh, and the answer? Purell doesn't do SHIT. Neither does Ivory soap. Dial is the only way to go.

And on your hands right this second? Horrific colonies of vile death.

I Got Yer Christmas Present RIGHT HERE

2008-11-18T20:11:00.000-08:00

Really, that's one-stop shopping, no?

It's my birthday...

2008-11-18T12:03:00.000-08:00

...so you know what that means, don't you?

Yes, of course. It's time for your annual Gerard Manley Hopkins.

It's my birthday, so suck it up.

Ahem. (Cue visual:)

(Cue sonorous voice:)

Margaret, are you grieving
Over Goldengrove unleaving?
Leaves, like the things of man, you
With your fresh thoughts care for, can you?
Ah! as the heart grows older
It will come to such sights colder
By and by, nor spare a sigh
Though worlds of wanwood leafmeal lie.
And yet you will weep and know why.
Now no matter, child, the name:
Sorrow's springs are the same.
Nor mouth had, no nor mind, expressed
What heart heard of, ghost guessed:
It is the blight man was born for,
It is Margaret you mourn for.

----"Spring and Fall to a Young Child;" Gerard Manley Hopkins

I love this poem. Nobody says "It's fall, it happens, you're getting older too, and you'll die someday, ya big effin' baby" like GMH.

Sigh.

YG and the new couch

2008-11-17T19:33:00.001-08:00

The YG's hair recovered from the self-imposed mullet. Now she has an adorable, if slightly shaggy, pixie-bowl cut.
]Oh, god, it was just enough to make you want to BARF taking her in for her haircut at the beauty shop around the corner. The ladies in the shop were all "Awwww! She's so CUUUTE!! She looks so great even WITH her new hair cut!"

And I'm all NO, she is an evil awful little child, who CUTS HER OWN HAIR when she KNOWS she is not supposed to, whose soul is as black as her hair is red!

But does she hear that? No! She just hears that she's so goddamn cute she can do whatever she wants!

Bah! (And yes, that is a Cleopatra headdress that the OG has on in the background.)

Oh, and I got my new couch! (But not my new orange armchair. In a few weeks, they say.) And, I got a new coffee table and end table, too. Here they are, with far too many animals:

We decided against the cool-lookin' orange couch; as Milena aptly pointed out, it was not so comfy for sitting for...um, humans. This one is not so adventurous, but is reasonably nice, and did not cost tons of money.

Now, when to update the 11-year-old TV, 16-year-old stereo, grunge-era media setup in my corner. Aaah...now let me dream about that, for as long as I've dreamed of a new couch, most likely.

Oh, and cats are stupid.

This one? Is a little freak. And has taken on the former-waif-turned-smug-bastard persona, just like her bubba Curbie.

Iris, for what it is worth, seems to have genuine gratitude to be here. This cat seriously will stand up on her hind legs to hug me. It's violently cute.

And yes, The Man's iron will regarding accepting the cats has stood up just as well as you thought it would. He totally loves them. (HA. I win.)

On a final note, it's my last night of being 38. Wanna go clubbing? I think tonight is the last night that I can, legally.

You HAVE to come and see the BABY!

2008-11-10T17:16:00.000-08:00

Hello! Sorry no postage lately.

I got super crazy busy after the election - and by "busy" I of course mean "drunk" - and then on Thursday I took off for Fayetteville, Arkansas for a long weekend with Trish, Mike, their six-year-old OB, and their brand new, two-month-old YB...AND, for a huge added bonus, Erin, who also flew her preggers self down from Philly.

Oh, what a good time that was. I got an UNBELIEVABLY cheap flight there - turns out Fayetteville benefits hugely from being nearby the national hub of both Wal-Mart and Tyson, and the fact that apparently assloads of Texans who need to fly there on a regular basis. Hence, my round-trip ticket cost far less the gas would have cost to drive there...hell, it was less than our trip to Wurstfest, forty minutes south of here, last weekend.

This is the tiny bug himself, giving one of those early smiles that I miss so much from my own children:

Totally worth the price of admission, I say.

Northwest Arkansas is really, really beautiful, and Fayetteville, college town, home of the University of Arkansas, is a nice, tolerant blue beacon in a landlocked sea of Republican red. Trish took us on a winding road up the Ozarks to Eureka Springs, a lovely older town, founded on the industry of the healing hot springs a century ago, and now a quaint-n-touristy shopping destination.

Here's Trish and Erin after our scrumptious and healthy lunch of Eureka Springs french fries AND nachos AND onion rings:

Well worth your journey, if you are in the area, for the awesome cliffs alone.

Saturday, we went to this artists' colony outside Fayetteville called Terra, wherein they make millions upon millions of glass bluebirds:

and have little traipsy paths through the woods for the kidlings and the new-agey among us:
That was a great little day trip. (Hell, yeah, I got a bluebird. Because they're cool, and hand-blown, and that is what one does.)

Oh, man, though? COLD. In the twenties at night cold. I had on a sweater, a sweatshirt, and a coat there on Saturday afternoon. It felt kinda good, though; 80 degrees in November (which is what awaited me upon arriving in Austin yesterday) just does not feel right, somehow.

So, now, I'm back, recovering (although it was not super wild, me partying with a new mom and a five-month-old pregnant lady) and working. I'm sort of bemused at Obama's election; I find it difficult to reconcile my loser Democrat self with actually WINNING for a change. It's strange; like breaking in a new pair of shoes.

However pleased I am with the results from the national election, it's of course bittersweet on the local level. We lost two hard-fought campaigns for the U.S. House and Senate, and this state still remains reliably red, thumbing its nose in the face of an entire NATION shifting the other direction. Baby steps, I suppose.

But, do you know where can kiss my butt? Missouri. Yeah, you heard that right. My home state can just go hop off into the Mississippi River for all I care. Bellwether state my ass. I had always hoped that the I-70 influence of Kansas City - Columbia - St. Louis would spread to thhe rest of the state, but I'm afraid that the opposite is occurring, and that the whole damn place is becoming Bransonized.

Eh, screw 'em if they want to stick their head in the sand. Let the nation pass them by and let them be pushed further to the margins. I'll welcome them back if they open their eyes, but in the meantime, I'm going to push hard for the north half of the state to break away and become South Iowa.

I am at a loss, really for what to do with myself now. It was good to get away this past weekend and have conversations with real people, instead of obsessing over the election.

I hope to re-introduce myself into socializing soon, and even - dare I say it? PARENTING.

Oh, and speaking of that, do you wanna see what happened over at the Noxious's house yesterday, when the YG decided that she should take it upon herself to cut her own hair?

Here's before (on Halloween):

And afterwards (I had to take her picture when she was sleeping, because she abjectly refused when she was awake):

She cut BANGS into her own hair.

And, to tell you the truth, if she had just stopped a few inches short of cutting the left-hand side of her hair off, she wouldn't have done too bad a job!

If I am to look on the bright side, it's that perhaps there's a career in it. It's good to know she'll have an option besides stripping.

Crying in my living room

2008-11-04T20:30:00.000-08:00

Hey, y'all...you know, Michelle?

She's my first lady.

And those are some damn cute kids set to set up some bunk beds in the West Wing.

Sigh. OK, I will chill now.

What?

2008-11-04T20:27:00.001-08:00

So, John McCain picks his CONCESSION speech as the time to be gracious and warm? And to finally sound like the man he used to be eight years ago?

Because...that wouldn't have served him better, like, two months ago? Except he went all crazy negative with the Bill Ayers and anti-American and shit?

Whoever picked his campaign staff should be given a freagin' MEDAL.

Oh HELL Yes

2008-11-04T20:10:00.000-08:00

Everyone say it with me now...

OBAMAGASM! OBAMAGASM!

You had it here first.

AGGGGGGHHHH

2008-11-04T08:39:00.001-08:00

Oh my GOD, I am SO NERVOUS about tonight, Y'ALL!!!!

I cannot get ANY work done. Seriously. It's like 10:30 AM - I've been at work for TWO AND A HALF HOURS - and cannot point to ANYTHING that I've accomplished.

(Except, um, a blog post. Is that something?)

I'll check back in later. Maybe I'll live-blog the election results. Unless I am attempting to HANG MYSELF.

Even better than the LAST one...

2008-10-30T19:39:00.000-07:00

It's the latest campaign commercial from the Honeymooning Couple!

Best forty seconds I spent all day.

Much Unconnected Rambling

2008-10-28T17:04:00.000-07:00

Hey there, intertubes. How's it going?

Myself, I'm still attempting to rouse myself from an annoyingly persistent coldish/fluish/allergish bug that has had me in its thrall for more than a week now. It started out as a cough and sore throat, and morphed into a general drippiness with sporadic bursts of low-grade fever. Sadly, though, nothing so severe as to allow me to miss work. As is true of all the moms I know, I feel I must save up those days for either kid illnesses or major coronary events.

Nor, I must admit, did it keep me from having a hella good time at Karla May's bachelorette bacchanalia lake-house getaway this past Saturday night with Jaye, Bookhart, Lindsay, and several other super-fun MILFs.

It was truly an evening for self-discovery; for example, I discovered that I SUCK at Guitar Hero, that I am not the indisputable karaoke queen that I thought I was, AND that I can, by myself, put a huge dent in a box of Target cabernet. (OK, truth be known, I had kinda already figured out that last one already.)

Ah, but my favorite find of the weekend had to be the videos that were provided for Karla May's edutainment by a friend of hers. I herein present to you an excerpt from the "Girls Night Out Club Dance" instructional videos:

Starring (named by us): Ashlee! Danielle! And Stanley, the double-jointed transvestite with the novelty teeth!

Oh, lordy, I have not laughed so hard, for so long, in I cannot tell you when. (And, yes, Jaye, I, too, am glad that video cameras were not present to record my attempts at following their hot club moves.)

It felt good to get away from everything - the election, the job, soccer practice, and FAR FAR away from the gym and the diet - and just chill. Thanks again, y'all. (And congrats to the blushing bride and her darling BH; of course. Happy endings? They do occur, sometimes, as it turns out!)

Now, of course, I'm right back to where I was when I left; obsessing about every tiny bit of minutia I can get from my various news sources. This is so sad, y'all. This has been my approximate media schedule for the past several weeks:

6:00 AM - 9:00 AM - NPR Morning Edition
9:00 AM - 4:00 PM - (alternately, but all are visited at least twice per day) Yahoo! News, Daily Kos, Democratic Underground, Wonkette, Talking Points Memo, FiveThirtyEight.Com, Electoral-Vote.Com, and (for horrific right wingnut political porn and crazy-people monitoring purposes ONLY) FreeRepublic.
4:00 - 6:00 PM - NPR All Things Considered
7:00 - 8:00 PM - Keith Olbermann
8:00 - 9:00 PM - Rachel Maddow
9:00 - 10:00 PM - Keith Olbermann again (when I catch everything I missed putting the kids to bed during the first airing)
10:00 - 10:30 PM - The Daily Show
10:30 - 11:00 PM - The Colbert Report

And, y'see, with THAT much news to keep up with, there is just so little time left for the children, and the husband-pleasing. (Eh, they'll be fine. They can all just go play with themselves for another week.)

(Obsessive interjection: Oh. I just CANNOT. STAND IT if that horrible old man and THAT WOMAN win. I. Will. Die. I will die die die die. I might not have been an Obama cultist-true believer in the beginning, but if THAT IS WHAT IT TAKES TO BEAT THESE FUCKERS, then I AM THERE. Sign me up to bring the palm fronds. I'll say the first hosanna.)

Oh, but, on a lighter note, I am SO gay for Michelle, y'all. Aren't you? I just think she is a stone fox.

(Obsessive interjection part two: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE let her be our first lady and NOT Cindy McCain. I don't actually hate Cindy - or I didn't before that awful speech she made about Obama being un-American - but she is NOTHING compared to Michelle. And, oh, dear god, Todd Palin...TODD PALIN! AIEEE!)

And, to sum up...yeah, there be no theme present this evening. I am themeless. And...um, lacking a conclusion.

So, this blog posting hereby receives a C- in freshman English.

In Which I Defend Myself From Charges of Being A Crazy Cat Lady

2008-10-24T20:42:00.000-07:00

We have a pet problem. Or, as perhaps my husband would argue, I have a pet problem; and, unfortunately for him, I live here.

And, if you only hear HIS side of the story, it looks, on the outside, that I have been personally responsible for bringing four animals into this house within the past 20 months.

But, I do humbly offer that, if the whole story is told, he bears some responsibility for the pet load.

And, it begins thusly:

When I met The Man in 1994, lo these many years ago, he lived in a crappy, dirty, bachelor pad-slash-cockroach farm over on the east side, with two roommates, and THREE CATS. (Hank, Patsy, and Dizzy. Yes, he was a music writer. However, they were all girls - even Hank and Dizzy - so perhaps he was going through a gender-confused period. Don't quote me on that.) I had, at the time, just one little kitten, my little Molly girl.

SO, at the time we met, HE was the crazy cat lady. I just want to make that PERFECTLY CLEAR.

Of course, when we moved in together in '95, we combined cats; his three, and my one. The four of them lived together in more or less harmony for many years; though, truth be told, Molly never really ceded trust to any of these interlopers. (Particularly Hank, she of the paranoia and the screaming yowl. The Man found her one night on the street while riding his bike home, and carried her, squirming, all the way home, cat in one hand, bike in the other. He was going to take her to the pound the next day, but then she was all in his lap. SUCKER!!!)

Things, pet-wise, were very stable, through a marriage, house-purchasing, and two kids. A couple of years ago, as we had dreaded for some time, we started to lose our (by now older) kitties. First sweet, cool Dizzy died, suddenly and without warning, as was her way. No frills, no fuss.

Right after that, the OG was going through a lot of anxiety - A LOT of anxiety - and it occurred to me that perhaps a pet was what she needed. My thoughts turned to a small dog, but upon a trip to Petco to investigate doghouses, a cat shelter lady stuck Curbie, the king of laid-back cats, into my arms. I brought him home, the OG flung him over her crooked elbow with not a complaint from the cat, and he was ours forever.

Here is Curbie, the former mangy waif, and now lump of fat smug bastardness:

But, you know? In my mind, Curbie was totally justified. She was freakin' out. And it worked. They've been mutually satisfied with their sleeping-together arrangements since day one. So there.

Anyway, then, the thought of a dog was still on my mind, and my mom suddenly offered to get me a Shih-Tzu. Guilty at the thought of obtaining a purebred dog, I searched in vain for some time for a small dog at the shelter; not having any luck, I eventually relented, hoping that my shelter karma had been fulfilled by Curbie's adoption the month prior. Hence Emmylou, the idiot dog, entered our lives.

(Yeah, I know. It was a lame rationalization for my actions. But, it feeds into my later actions, so stay with me.)

I tried several times to get a shot of her not licking her face. No luck. She's THAT kind of dog.

So, just to be clear, we then had: Molly, Patsy, Hank, Curbie, and the dog, EmmyLou.

But, then, our cat Hank - the yowling one found by the side of the road 12 years earlier - decided that she had had enough with the new additions, and decided to leave home. But - as we found out some weeks later, after vainly searching for her up and down every conceivable side street in our neighborhood, she did not run very far. She did, in fact, move TWO DOORS DOWN. The folks there had to feed her - what with the yowling and all - so though she had apparently decided that we could fuck off, she could not be arsed to actually run AWAY away.

OK. So, we were down now to Molly, Patsy, Curbie, and the dog. Then, my irascible Molly died last year, leaving just (yes, JUST) the two cats and the dog. The only one of our old cats left in our house was Patsy, the grouchy old woman who just wants the new kids to get off her lawn:

So, after Molly's death, I started to feel...just a little lonely for a kitteh to call my own. Thus, I began looking, half-heartedly, for a sweet cat, probably an adult shelter cat, because I still have BAD PUREBRED DOG KARMA to ward off. The girls and I saw a likely candidate at a shelter, and though they were agitating for a kitten, I gave them a long and impassioned speech about how adult cats don't get adopted, and that we really need to not get a kitten because they have a better chance of being adopted, and that this kitty had been abused and had had her front tooth kicked in and was therefore really a hard luck candidate, etc. Anyway, they seemed to buy it, and I told the shelter woman that I would likely take her.

This was Shirley, who is now Iris:

Iris, the formerly abused, and now loving (if a tince neurotic and smothering in her obsessive desire to SIT ON OUR LAP AT ALL TIMES) little girl, with the super-soft fur, and the transparent, endearing, delirious joy in the purchase of the $10 cat bed from Walgreens.

And then? The next morning? I saw Stella at the vet's office, with her little kitten self all clamoring at me:

Could you turn that down? No, I THINK NOT. Stella, adored by all, threatened by none, quickly realized that she owned this effing place. The prize sleeping spot in the house - square at my feet in my cushy pillowtopped bed - has been hers from the moment she arrived, and no one dares to challenge her (mostly because she will jump on them and bite their heads).

Still with me? I'm amazed.

HOWEVER, even I will entertain the notion that the addition of two cats within - um, two weeks - was not, perhaps, the most cognitively well-planned-out thing I have ever done.

Anyway, we were now up to (in order of acquisition): Patsy, Curbie, EmmyLou (the dog,) Iris, and Stella. That, you will agree, I am sure, is the absolute end number of animals that anyone should have in an 1,800 square foot home, correct?

Oh, but wait:

Last week The Man calls up and says to me, "Um...I caught Hank."

So, guess who also now lives with us, again? After not living here for like a year? Yep, it's the yowly one herself, now almost 15 years old, and sullenly (though not altogether unwillingly, it is cold, after all) submitting herself to house rule again:

So, at final count, we are now up to: Patsy, Hank, Curbie, Emmylou, Iris, and Stella.

So, your honor, I submit:

I am not the original cat lady of the family;
TWO of the animals were The Man's, originally;
I am only REALLY responsible for bringing home TWO AND A HALF of the other animals, because a) Curbie belongs to the OG, who needed him for THERAPUTIC REASONS, and b) because Emmylou is really not smart enough to construe one whole living entity. She only counts for a fraction of an animal;
And who knew Hank was ever coming home, anyway?

I rest my case.

*However, I fear he may trump me on one, small issue...he works at home all day, and thus has to be around them, like, 24/7. Again, though, that's not MY fault. He coulda been a pilot or something; I'm just sayin.'

-----------------------------------------
Oh, but you must indulge me in a couple more pictures before I let you go.

The other night, when I went in to turn the OG's closet light out, I saw this sordid scene taking place in her bedroom:

No worriez, though. I iz not to tell of ur sekrit kitteh love.

Obamagasm

2008-10-19T20:42:00.002-07:00

I admit it; the Obama has me in his sway.

I found out when I got a weird little frisson when I voted today; sort of the "thrill down my leg" that Chris Matthews described. It was one of the first times I've felt really thrilled about a vote. (Maybe THE first time, come to think of it. I haven't voted for a string of super winners in my life, beginning with Dukakis and onward.

Eh, I guess I'd warmed pretty significantly to Clinton right before his first term, but I still thought he was too centrist for me to truly love. By the end of his first term, I was CERTAIN of that, and pulled the lever as a dutiful Democrat, but with no real enthusiasm. I didn't love Al Gore until his damned concession speech, when I saw the glimmer of the great man within, and I wept tears of pure anger that night; anger AT HIM, for not revealing it to us sooner.

Kerry was fine, but I responded to him cerebrally, not emotionally. He seemed a sensible choice, and a generally right-thinking person, other than the ever-lovin' war, of course. Sadly, though, I watched him, too, fall to the same evil slander - worse, even, this was a frickin' WAR HERO - that felled Gore. And, I knew it was going to happen when I cast my vote; hence, I was totally dejected when I did it.

I am certain that I am a walking cliche, for this, among many other, reasons. I am an edumacated, latte-drinkin' (and, is that not the most obnoxious stereotype? Every GD small-town lady I'VE met up in the wilds of Salado and Rockdale are more than familiar with a variety of different milky-frothy coffee drinks, and many even have the differing espresso/cappucino/latte cups to offer it to you in!) Austin-residing liberal with the fuel-efficient vehicle and the jam-packed recycling bin.

But, I dare say, I am feeling the H-word.

I hate to jinx anything, and I am indeed a superstitious fucker about these things. (Actually, that's only true of politics and football. Oh, dear god, WHAT AWFUL FUCKING FOOTBALL WENT ON THIS WEEKEND. But I digress.) I know it isn't over yet, and that a lot can happen in two weeks.

But what went on this weekend? When we learned that Hopey earned $150 MILLION dollars from people like me, contributing $35 with crossed fingers that we make it to the end of the month without going over?

And this horrible scary Michelle Bachmann, of the crazy eyes and the McCarthy-esque purge wishes? She goes on television, shooting her mouth off about ridding Congress of all those anti-Americans...and within 72 hours afterwards, her opponent - with the unlikely name of Elwyn Tinklenberg - has suddenly had $600 THOUSAND DOLLARS contributed to his election campaign?

And that our Democratic candidate for state representative - in TEXAS - in our GERRYMANDERED DISTRICTS, if y'all will recall our redistricting legislative folly from a few years back - IS COMPETITIVE? And the Senate candidate - while not as close; John Cornyn is a formidable foe - is within single digits?

It's the little things like this - and not just That One - that are giving me reason to jump a little bit in the voting booth. (I did, just a teeny bit. Just a little bounce.)

Even if - EVEN IF - the worst thing happens...then I know, more than ever before, that I am NOT alone in this country, and I am NOT the "fringe."

For just a little bit, it's been great to be in the majority.

--------------------------------------------
And no, I do NOT want to recap the UT-Missouri football game this weekend.

That we WENT TO. And paid for NOT ONLY a babysitter, but ALSO the horribly expensive tickets (within three figures! Apiece! Yes! My going-out money for MORE THAN A WHOLE MONTH!) for what was the shittiest three hours I have spent since - oh, since I stopped having to go to the laundromat!

The Man - who should have been thrilled - was even disappointed. "I'm sorry, honey," he says to me, EVEN KNOWING that his tail-allottment for the month was seriously in jeopardy - "I was really hoping that this would be a competitive game!"

Bah. BAH. Heisman trophy, my large midwestern ass.

------------------------------------------
Speaking of money we don't have, I am thinking of getting a new couch.

In what is just an awful turn of events, the idiot Shi-Tzu took out her miffedness - about us not keeping her backyard mowed to her low-slung tickly-bellied satisfaction, apparently - out on us by PEEING on it.

I have soaped and sterilized and vinegared and Pet-Pee-B-Gone'd it to death, but when it's humid in here, it just...still smells. (And, it smells like all the other stuff I put on it, too. So it smells like really clean, and vinegary...pee.)

Anyway, I'm considering this:

Thoughts? You don't have to like it. I can dig it. But I'd like to move in a more contemporary direction, you know?

I have the 50's house, I think I should have some 50's-like furniture, too. Only microfiber. Because - well, we have a goddamn PEEING DOG.*

*who is now under couch arrest. Like, she is faced with four vociferous shouts of "GET OFF THE COUCH" whenever her eye gaze falls more than a foot above the floor.

____________________________________

Finally, I leave you with my geekiest YouTube ever.

I give you: "Les Misbarack"

Fair warning: There is a musical involved. But it is only three minutes. You will live.

But if you love this sort of thing -as I do, with all my heart - then enjoy. And I love "Eponine."

Girl Scout Camping, 2008

2008-10-13T18:55:00.001-07:00

Camping isn't what it used to be, back when I was a girl, sleeping in a friggin' field for that one night of "Day Camp," in North Kansas City, MO, sans tent.

And for this, thank you, Baby Jesus.

I was told there would be cabins, but I was not expecting what was, essentially, a lodge:
I know it's not all that fancy or anything, but this wasn't the dining hall...this was our CABIN. Or, rather, this was the dining/commons area of our cabin, with the ceiling fans and tasteful wrought-iron light fixtures, AND

the real-live mattresses on our "rustic-look" bunks, AND

the television, VCR, boom box, and comfy couches, AND

the fridge, microwave, sink, toaster oven, and TWO WASHERS AND TWO DRYERS.

This was the brand-new dining hall:

.. chock full o' wired girls and goddamn near HOMICIDALLY PISSY moms:

Next year, I am SO bringing hooch. And I won't chicken out again. Like I did...um, every other time.

I'm Finding My Happy Place

2008-10-12T17:00:00.000-07:00

Hey! Hi! I've been at Girl Scout camp all weekend! Yes, again! It was that time again!

And there's this Girl Scout song about a "Rigabamboo?" (Sp?) That they sing seven or eight times a day? And it stays in your head for ever and ever and ever?

Wine. Silence. Oh, pretty please?

2008-10-09T20:42:00.000-07:00

This is the only thing that made me laugh today:

Round Two

2008-10-07T19:51:00.000-07:00

Another debate over, Sen. Hopey won, blah blah blah.

"That one?" Please. McLame, your condesencion is so five weeks ago.

What REALLY bears commenting upon is how COOL the Debate Pleasureometers on CNN are.

Have you seen these? Apparently, they gave a bunch of Undecided Ohio Votors some little knobs that they can twiddle to indicate whether they liked an answer, or were meh on it, or REALLY REALLY LIKED it, or REALLY REALLY HATED it, and thus generate a very compelling little advancing line graph, with a different color line for men and for women. (Hard to say for sure, but it appeared that the wimmin were definitely playing with their knobs for Barry. His baritone is really nice, I must admit.)

Seriously, men...wouldn't you just LOVE if the women in your life had a little Pleasureometer, so that you could immediately see her response to whatever you're saying or doing? Like, you took out the trash AND did the dishes AND dusted the blinds unbidden, and you could look over at the line graph on her forehead, and be all like "MAN, I am in GOOD tonight?"

Or, conversely, when you leave your goddamn size thirteen boats under the coffee table for the ten millionth time, you could just check your stats real fast, and thus stop the grouchy train that is about to plow through the living room?

I'm just sayin'.

Too Drunk to Text

2008-10-06T17:51:00.000-07:00

Hmm...I am finding that I truly am a gal of the new millenium. Gosh, there's a whole new world of stuff out there that I can now be too drunk to do!

Actually, I'm sober now; I was drunk on FRIDAY (as I always am when Karla stops in on her semi-annual trips home). However, the hangover lasted through Saturday, AND Sunday...and, in a Mags first, pretty much for most of the day today, albeit in a new and exciting old-lady form that I shall not describe in detail here.

It was a good time, man. A bunch of my favorite bloggers - Lee, Bookhart, Badger, Karla May, Malcontent Mama, and Jaye - and several new friends, including Dave here, met at Opal Devine's for drinks-n-fried pickle spears (the latter of which burned the roof of my mouth into hamburger. I know. Gross. But it bore noting.)

In the quest to be fabulously good on my diet, I ate only a few little shrimp, and judiciously - of course - chose MARTINIS to drink. I think I had two, and then switched to wine. We then advanced to the Jackalope, wherein they pour the MOST DELICIOUS creamy thick Belhaven Scottish Ale you have EVER had...and they were FREE, thanks to the MM...so, of course, I had to throw a couple of beers into that equation.

How lit up was I? Who can say, really. The only solid evidence that I have is that I accidentally drunk-texted Connie when I was trying to drunk-text Cristen to see how the kids were doing. (Connie was not, in fact, watching my children, as it turns out, because she lives 2000 miles away. So, you can imagine her confusion. And mine, because I still have a slow-texting one-letter-at-a-time cell phone, and that was a whole damn lot of letters to punch in to say something like "Um...ooops...drunk...you not babysitting for me! Haw! Haw haw haw!")

Rumor has it that, upon picking up my children at the Noxious's house, that Bob teased me for being inebriated, at which I declared loudly "I'm not inebriated, I'M AWESOME!" But that is unsubstantiated, I must remind you. (Except by Cristen and Lee...and, really, who trusts then?)

Thankfully, nobody has any pictures of it. AND DON'T GO LOOKING AT KARLA'S BLOG. Because there are NO PICTURES THERE. Walk away.

For what it's worth, I paid for it dearly the rest of the weekend. I was unable to participate in the Flying Saucer beer festival the next day, and just didn't have the stomach (or the heat tolerance) to go nuts at North By Northwest's Oktoberfest on Sunday.

But, Karla - you always bring the fun. Hope you don't have to bring it so far for much longer.
---------------------------------
So I have to go to bed now. Nothing to stay awake for.

Because The Man had to attend the funeral of an old friend today - one that was our age, with kids the same age as ours - in his old hometown that was just handed a death sentence of its own, and we are solidly bummed.

Because I can't watch Heroes, due to some stupid effing fee fight between our NBC affiliate and Time Warner Frakkin Cable.

Because my entire lower abdomen feels as though I've been eating helium balloons made of sandpaper and then doing lemon juice shooters.

Because my younger child, still in the throes of her CRAZINESS, has worn me out.

Because if I watch any more Olbermann or Maddow today - with the McCain/Palin Sofa King Stupid Crappe Du Jour - I will pull my own eyeballs out.

Day? I am SO OVER you.

NOW it all makes sense!

2008-10-03T09:54:00.001-07:00

Whew.

2008-10-02T19:52:00.000-07:00

I'm glad that debate's over. Just two more to agonize through, and then I'm done for a few, precious years.

Honestly, I thought she didn't do too badly...IF all you were looking for was her ability to formulate complete sentences. I know, many of you were doubting that, but hell, she was a sportscaster, after all. She knows how to speak to a camera. And, she was clearly well prepped, and delivered her answers with proper enunciation.

And, it was just a little cute, how she beamed every time she knew that she was going to get to deliver a good line. Snaps to Sarah; she had clearly rehearsed how to say "Ahmadinejad," so much so that she just had to repeat it, like, five times in rapid succession. We were thinking we should have made a drinking game.

But, sadly, I was listening to what she said, and, well, she didn't say much. Hey, though, she, herself, admitted that she wasn't going to answer the questions in the way the moderator wanted...and, she was true to her word. Talking points only, no deviation, and not a lot of concern about exactly what question was being asked.

She didn't commit a lot of obvious flubs, which is probably all the McCain camp could hope for...except for not apparently knowing what an "Achilles Heel" is. She also looked a bit robotic when she continued with this incessant drumming of the points even right after Joe Biden almost choked up when talking about his critically injured son. And, the part about his joke being lame didn't go over like I think she wanted (or, to be fair, like I think she meant it). That just sounded sorta bitchy, or nervous.

But, I did have a strong negative reaction to a few things, particularly the "folksiness." Golsh darn dang golly Uncle Clem, I cannot bear to hear this for the next four years. Seriously. It's affected, and it shows, and it's INSULTING. And when she said "There you go again," - trying DESPERATELY to blow the sweet dead breath of Ronald Reagan on this campaign - I damn near hurled my teacup through the television.

Oh, and when she said that it didn't matter what caused global warming, they were just by gosh for fixin' it. And that it didn't matter what got us into Iraq in the first place. Because, you know, that "science" or "history" crap just don't matter.

Most of all though...she WINKED. TO THE TELEVISION CAMERA. SEVERAL TIMES.

Now, I ask you, how many vice presidential candidates, in the past, have WINKED AT THE CAMERA? Does she think that's charming, or is it a nervous tic?

My read on it is that it's not intentional, it's just how she's used to getting her way. Flirting and grinning and giving coy little winks, while tossing out generality after generality until you really have no idea what she has said. But it was, to me, a horrifying gender throwback.

At worst, though, she fought to a draw...and that's only if you are looking at the pageantry along with the substance. On the meat, there is no question that Joe had her smackjawed.

For tonight, though, Sarah...you live to fight another day. I think your base will be pleased. We shall see if any of the rest of us go along.

Anyone want a YG?

2008-09-30T19:03:00.000-07:00

Omigaw, I'm going to KILL my youngest daughter.

Within the past couple of months, she has developed a case of sensory integration disorder that makes anything the OG went through look like NOTHIN', I tell you.

It started with clothes, probably about a year ago. Some are "TOO TIGHT!" and others are "TOO LOOSE!" and yet still others are "TOO SCRATCHY!" or "TOO OVERALLS!" (a.k.a jeans or denim). As a result, the former clothes horse, and collector of beyootiful fancy dresses, now has a sum total of about five outfits that she will wear.

Sadly, one of those outfits does not happen to be tights and a leotard, which is a damn shame, because her Grandma Shirley very nicely agreed to pay for a semi-expensive Saturday morning dance class for her.

Now, without a doubt, the YG LIKES dance class. She has a nice teacher who does very awesome age-appropriate dancey activities, and a class full o'four year olds that are diabetes-inducing SWEET.

HOWEVER, this does not stop her from having a goddamn 20-minute temper tantrum Every. Saturday. Morning. When it is time to get dressed. It does not matter that she likes the class. It does not matter that she knows she will quickly get used to the tights (specially purchased with NO FEET IN THEM, due to the "lines in the toes" debacle of Week One).

It does not matter that she knows we will put them on anyway, despite the tantrum, and that we will go to class anyway, sobbing and sniffling notwithstanding. Positive reinforcement does not work. This week we will try to dress her in them the night before, but I am reasonably sure that this will just be a disaster scheduled for Friday night instead of Saturday morning.

The worst part of all this, however, is her most sensitive reaction...and this is to chewing. More to the point, MY chewing.

Now, I DO NOT chew with my mouth open. The Man, horrifically sensitive to this himself, would never have gone on a second date with me if I did. (Hello, genetics! This is ALL HIS FUCKIN' FAULT.) Sometimes it's the OG that bothers her - who does in fact chew with her mouth open - but usually, it's just me.

No, the YG does not like the sound - or SIGHT - of me chewing, just normally. Gum, food, anything. We have now gone through several weeks of shrieking fits because I'm...um, EATING. Or fucking CHEWING GUM, because I'm on a fucking diet and can't fucking eat anything. And, I chew gum on the way home from work, when I'm hungry...so, when I pick her up, it often results in her shrieking the entire way home, kicking the back of my seat, howling "I CAN STILL HEAR YOU CHEWING! I CAN STILL HEAR YOU CHEWING!", with her hands clapped over her ears.

Tonight - after being sent to time out for quite some time due to today's car incident - she emerged for dinner. When she saw me at the table, she whimpered "I...JUST...DON'T WANT DINNER!" and left the room. (The OG - who is THE AWESOMEST GIRL IN THE WORLD ALL THE TIME THESE DAYS - just smirked, ate her tacos, and not-so-subtly talked about how good HER dessert was gonna taste.)

So, at about 7:00 - me all done, of course - my miserable, hungry, four-year-old comes out and says, "I'm ready to eat my dinner now."

What am I gonna say to that? No? No food for you, you crazy insane lunatic? Because I swear, I was effin' tempted to do JUST THAT.

Time to go do research on THIS ONE now. I've got "Sensational Kids" on my Amazon list...anyone got another one that they like?

---------------------------------
Oh, and Your Daily Palin:

She cannot name ONE. NEWSPAPER. AND SHE WAS A JOURNALISM MAJOR!!!

"Oh, yah, I read ALL of 'em, Katie!"

Gaah. You know, the conspiracy theorist in me is wondering if they're not totally setting us up for the debates. Like, we think she's going to be a gibbering idiot, but it turns out to be a big lie, and she's not really.

Mark my words, they are going to say she won the debate if she can utter her full name without stumbling over it. This is what is going to happen.

2008-09-26T17:20:00.000-07:00

I woke up this morning feeling guilty about the mocking video I posted yesterday about Sarah Palin.

You know, it's the typical liberal thing to do, to sit around feeling guilty for pissing someone off, or even for potentially pissing someone off. I hate that we do this to ourselves, because the right wing seems to never give a damn what ground they scorch with their attacks.

And yet, I still fall prey to this manner of thinking, no matter how much I detest it, and perceive as weakness, in the political party that I generally support.

Now that I think about it, really, though, isn't it really rooted in human decency, this regret that people might have been angered or hurt by our words? I mean, I know it doesn't help my political bedfellows, and tends to get us laughed at by most everyone...but isn't it really sort of, you know, traditionally the role of (dare I say) the RELIGIOUS, to be concerned about others?

Whatever. I know we're ridiculous. We liberals continue to be the geeks in the locker room, pushed against the wall with our pants pulled down.

Nonetheless, though I do aspire to the ranks of Internet Snark Queen, I still do wish to be a force of relative good in the world. So, in the tradition of good liberals everywhere, I wish to provide a brief equivocation.

Sarah, my friend. I've been harsh on you.

Let me be clear: I do not think that you and I would hate each other, if, say, we worked together. I think we would probably have very nice conversations at the copier (though I might suddenly have to busy myself looking about the room for toner if you started going on about how great your church is).

I will go so far as to say that I believe my readers in Alaska when they say that they think she is a reasonably good governor. I'm not there, who am I to say? Her policies are anathema to mine, but I hear that, really, she's not as bad as a lot of the hard-core Republicans up there. I personally think that sounds like a comparison of, say, black bears to grizzly bears, in the "Which do I want at my picnic?" scenario, but...hey. Like I said, you live in your state, and I'm not to judge.

(Oh, by the way? Our governor? Rick Perry. The awesomest quote of last week? Not Palin, not McCain. Rick Perry, who said, regarding Hurricane Ike (and our recently-arsoned Governor's Mansion: "I absolutely understand they want to get back to their homes ... I'd like to get back to the mansion.")

Perhaps it is not fair to post one clip from an interview, in which a tongue-tied Sarah clearly panicked, and reverted to talking points out of sheer desperation. (However, there were obviously others, including the awesomeness about Putin rearing his head over Alaska.) God knows Joe Biden (a.k.a. Gaffey McGaffesalot) puts his effin' foot in his mouth on a regular basis, and I could easily find an hour's worth of his blowhardy nonsense to post for funnin'.

And, believe me, I could, in no way, shape or form, do any of these interviews. I'm OK on a keyboard, but tend to stammer over my words in real-life conversation, and have inconvenient mental lapses JUST when I need to have all the facts at my disposal to hammer a point home to some jackass who questions me.

However...

I am NOT running for VICE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES.

And, if Barack had put in the call to me to run with him, I would have said..."Um, NO. Because I am not smart enough. And I did too much stupid shit in college. And I'm a big pussy, and I'd cry if people called me fat. So...NO."

So, what is that soft liberal center of me saying about Sarah? Honestly, it wants me to feel sorry for her. As Kathleen Parker (!) said, today, she is clearly out of her league. I can just envision her asking Todd to spirit her away from all this crap, and bring her back home to Alaska, where they like her, and do not expect her to spout forth wisdom on topics she never considered until three weeks ago.

My old age brings me, however, to a kind of hardened cynicism. I do feel sorry for you, Sarah, that you got roped into this situation. Hey, you guys may pull this thing out and win, yet...what do I know?

However, if you don't, then please remember that this was, ultimately, your choice. You could have known your limitations and refused; however, you chose to believe your own arrogance and ambition rather than the nose on your face.

So, in that respect, I feel that publishing your words as you uttered them - and mocking them accordingly - is not off-base. This is the national spotlight. Is it everything you wanted?

Debate-watchin' time. I've got my bowl of pretzels and my fizzy water at the ready.

Please slam him to the mat, B.O.

This video made me laugh so hard...

2008-09-25T20:11:00.000-07:00

...that I threw up in my mouth a little:

(Go on, do it, it's only a minute and a half.)

Oh, hell yes, mama, throw every RNC talking point you can fit in there, and see if any of that shit sticks. Don't worry if it makes sense!

Lord, I have never liked Katie Couric so much as I do, right now, just because of the look she shoots Palin at about 1:01.

Internets, I challenge you...what EXACTLY was Katie thinking at that, precise moment? (Funniest interpretation wins the Mags Award for Internet Snarkiness, Thursday Edition!)

Head...Exploding!

2008-09-24T19:03:00.001-07:00

Can't...handle...the cognitive...dissonance!

Oh, PEOPLE. Have you been watching the news today? Have you? OH, HAVE YOU NOW? BECAUSE I HAVE.

And...I just...have no words to describe the idiocy that I have witnessed on this day.

But, I shall try.

OK. Breathing.

So, internets and history, just to sum up: Today, in one, approximately twelve-hour period, the following shiite went down:

1) Barack Obama calls John McCain to propose a bipartisan resolution on the economy.

2) John McCain does not return Obama's call.

3) He then STEALS OBAMA'S IDEA and suddenly declares he wants to cancel the debates.

4) He then declares he's suspending campaigning because of the great emergency the country faces.

5) HOWEVER, he is not in such a hurry as to postpone his luncheon with his wealthy endorser Lady de Rothschild.

6) He then cancels his visit to David Letterman, because of the great emergency.

7) HOWEVER, he then does not go running to Washington, but instead to...Katie Couric, where he sits for an interview...IN THE SAME STUDIO AS DAVID LETTERMAN. Who of course finds out, and CALLS THEM UP during the interview to mock him.

8) McCain's folks come out oohing and ahhing over what a statesman he is, and how he's "putting his country first."

9) HOWEVER, some douchebag campaign worker in Colorado accidentally releases the McCain "Postponement Talking Points" to the media...effectively putting EVEN THIS lame-ass conclusion to the lie that it is.

10) THEN, our favorite girl Sarah gets on Katie Couric, and in the course of this interview, she spouts some super-intelligent verbiage, including this line, when Couric asked for examples of McCain's prior policies: “I’ll try to find you some [examples] and I’ll bring them to you.”

11) Seriously. If Katie Couric is eating you alive in an interview, how fucking dumb are you?

12) THEN, the McCain campaign suggests that the presidential debate be rescheduled for...wait for it...October 2.

13) Which is THE NIGHT OF THE VICE-PRESIDENTIAL DEBATES. Which would conveniently then need to be "postponed or cancelled."

14) Because clearly there's no OTHER night that it could be rescheduled for. At all.

15) Oh, god. They are so horrible and cynical.

16) THEY THINK SHE'S FINE TO BE VICE PRESIDENT - OR PRESIDENT, GOD FORBID, BUT SHE CAN'T STAND UP IN A G-D DEBATE OR SIT FOR AN INTERVIEW?

17) Ow! OW OW OW!

Please help me. I need an intervention.

---------------------------------------
In other news, I have...ahem...employed a personal trainer at my gym, in a last-ditch effort to force myself to lift weights and do squats (which I will never, EVER do if given half a chance to avoid it. I'll do cardio all day long, but damn, I hate to make my muscles hurt.)

It's been kind of cool so far, even if that means I have to converse with - and I hate to stereotype, but let's be frank here - GYM PEOPLE.

No big changes yet, although I can now do several sets of lunges all the way across the gym and back, with weights.

I don't look GOOD doing it, but I CAN do it.

Your Poem For The Day

2008-09-22T09:00:00.000-07:00

From Garrison Keillor's Writer's Almanac:

Windows Is Shutting Down

Windows is shutting down, and grammar are
On their last leg. So what am we to do?
A letter of complaint go just so far,
Proving the only one in step are you.

Better, perhaps, to simply let it goes.
A sentence have to be screwed pretty bad
Before they gets to where you doesnt knows
The meaning what it must of meant to had.

The meteor have hit. Extinction spread,
But evolution do not stop for that.
A mutant languages rise from the dead
And all them rules is suddenly old hat.

Too bad for we, us what has had so long
The best seat from the only game in town.
But there it am, and whom can say its wrong?
Those are the break. Windows is shutting down.

(Guardian, April 27, 2005)

Ehhh...I got nothin.

2008-09-21T18:21:00.000-07:00

Nothing to see here; move along.

Still obsessed with the election? Check.
Watching the Emmys? But of course.
Still locked into increasingly anti-social behaviors? Umm...I did get out to see some people last night, so, perhaps that's getting better. But not much interaction planned in the foreseeable future.
Still struggling with the diet and in limiting my alcohol consumption appropriate to this task, but doing awesome on the exercising? Yeppers.
Still have far too many domesticated animals in this 1,800 square foot house? You betcha.

Fine. FINE. I'll do the damn food meme too.

1. How do you like your eggs?
Any way at all, except maybe soft-boiled. Poached or fried, over easy, with a hot, runny yolk, and no clear white. Scrambled in omelettes, breakfast tacos, stratas (stratae?), quiches, etc. I loves me some eggs. I have them (or, more frequently, their soulless substitute, Egg Beaters,) every single day. It's not just the kids who dig "Breakfast for Dinner" nights at our house, which would probably be the most shameful night in the month for most mothers worth their salt.

And, speaking of salt, it tastes good on eggs.

2. How do you take your coffee/tea?
Coffee, preferably, though I like a cup of hot tea in the afternoons, and some sleepy sort of tea at night. It used to be black, but recently I've been putting a splash of skim milk in. Half-and-half is awesome, but that's only for non-dieting days, of which there are few. I usually only get that for company...but gleefully drink up the leftovers after they're gone.

3. Favorite breakfast food:
Seriously? Would you ask me to choose my favorite child?

OK, um...let's see. Eggs. Next runners up: bacon, breakfast tacos, hot, homemade buttermilk biscuits with butter, really outstandingly crisp fried potato products (possibly with cheese and cream and porcini mushrooms in some combination,) cinnamon rolls (but only really really good ones, and only in combination with some sort of protein). Sometimes that white-trashy casserole with the eggs and the sausage and the cheese and the crescent rolls. Sometimes cold pizza, but not so much since college.

4. Peanut butter:
Ooooh, yes. Lots and lots of it. I'm finally an all-natural gal on the P.B.. Creamy or chunky; it does not matter. What matters is that there always must be at least two jars at my house, one in the cabinet (for The Man,) and one in the fridge (for the rest of us, who prefer our peanut butter be cold, and not separatey).

5. What kind of dressing on your salad?
Whatever's diet, and in my fridge. I think it's South Beach Ranch right now. Oh, there's lots of them that I really like - anything in the creamy caesar/parmesan/peppercorn family, or Sesame Garlic Sass, or Girard's Champagne. However, I don't buy them anymore...I just buy whatever has the least calories. Sigh.

6. Coke or Pepsi?
Coke. But it's a reasonably rare occurrence (less than monthly, and usually involving a hangover or the stomach flu) so when I have one, it is a REAL Coke, and not a Diet Coke.

7. You're feeling lazy. What do you make?
Soft tacos with leftover chicken, ground turkey, or hamburger, along with black beans, shredded cheese, and vegetables, and leftover rice, if we have any. (maybe frozen or canned corn, if that's all we have).

8. You're feeling really lazy. What kind of pizza do you order?
Cheese for the kiddos. If it's a standard pizza place, then some kind of combo with pepperoni and green olives playing a starring role. If it's a more gourmet-y type of place, then something with goat cheese or gorgonzola and chicken and rosemary often makes an appearance. If it's Mangia, then spinach stuffed. Always.

9. You feel like cooking. What do you make?
Standard dieting mode? Pan-seared, good-quality fish, with steamed or briefly roasted fresh vegetables, and a (small) bit of good crusty bread.

When I'm not in diet mode, I make an outstanding pan of green chile/sour cream enchiladas. Also, I make good chili (diet-turkey style and normal,) veggie lasagna, eggplant parmesan, and mole sauce. I don't bake a lot of things that require finesse, but I'm pretty good with cookies, biscuits, and brownies/cakes/pies...though I just cannot do a pie crust like my mother and grandmother did.

10. Do any foods bring back good memories?
Golly, yes. Thanksgiving foods, of course; crouton stuffing and cranberry sauce and the mashed potatoes that they eventually left to me to make, because I always insisted on the real deal and not powdered. Grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup made with milk make me think of sick days and snow days. The cinnamon nut rolls at The Kolache Shoppe on Burnet taste just like my grandmother's pecan rolls. I eat one, and I'm suddenly a nine-year-old at Christmas.

11. Do any foods bring back bad memories?
Can't think of any foods, only many, many, types of alcohol.

12. Do any foods remind you of someone?
Oh, yeah, every day. I think there is a food I associate with almost everyone I know. Is that weird?

13. Is there a food you refuse to eat?
Circus peanuts, candy corn. Anything in the spongy orange candy spectrum, actually. I'll take a bite of flan whenever someone has it, to see if I finally like it...but I will always hate it. Whiskey, scotch, bourbon, etc.

14. What was your favorite food as a child?
Crab legs at Red Lobster. Canadian Bacon pizza. Sweet-n-sour pork.

15. Is there a food that you hated as a child but now like?
Macaroni and cheese, hot sauce/salsas.

16. Is there a food that you liked as a child but now hate?
Any Hostess product. Sugary cereals with faux marshmallows. (But I will now and always love Captain Crunch).

17. Favorite fruit and vegetable:
Fruit: Raspberries.
Vegetable: Hmmm. Right now, it's brussels sprouts. It changes with the season, though.

18. Favorite junk food:
Fried potatoes in any form. Jalapeno cream cheese poppers. Hot wings, BYFO are best.

19. Favorite between meal snack:
Progreso Light Soup or a small can of tuna, sadly. Really, though, it's good bread with some peanut butter on it.

20. Do you have any weird food habits?
Not that I consider weird, of course. As stated, The Man think it is odd that I refrigerate my peanut butter. And, also, that I like a slice of cheddar cheese on apple pie. (It's a midwest thing. Maybe just a Missouri thing, I don't know.)

21. You're on a diet. What food(s) do you fill up on?
Diet soup with cabbage, steamed vegetables, sliced turkey breast, tuna

22. You're off your diet. Now what would you like?
Wine, chocolate, more sourdough bed...and can you pass the peanut butter, more bacon, and some triple-cream brie, please? (And yes, you may then have your way with me.)

23. How spicy do you order Indian/Thai?
Medium. I think I want it super-spicy, until I actually get it that way, when I remember that I'm much more braggy than my actual palate can handle.

24. Can I get you a drink?
I shouldn't. But O.K.

25. Red or White Wine?
Depends entirely on how hot it is outside. It's been nice to drink reds this past week. (O'course, though, it's been punishing for the past two days.)

26. Favorite dessert?
Dark chocolate dense truffly creamy cake-shaped somethings.

27. The perfect nightcap?
Like I said, some sort of sleepy tea. I like Get Some Zzzzs.

In fact, sounds good.
----------------------------
Hey, Mad Men won Best Drama! Christina Hendricks was about to come right out of that dress.

Looove her.

Oh, damn! I missed International Talk Like A Pirate Day!

2008-09-19T19:52:00.001-07:00

I ALWAYS miss International Talk Like A Pirate Day!

DAAAAAAARRN!!

But of COURSE you can see more pictures of Stella!

2008-09-17T18:49:00.000-07:00

Everybody loves the kitten.The kids:

The dog:

Curbie (her identical, yet two years older and completely unrelated, twin):

And, The Man, who - as I've previously noted, plays the curmudgeon well - actually took all these pictures, while cooing "Awww...Mags, come and see this!"

However, there is the matter of this shelter cat I'm considering adopting.

SHE - though possessing of significant and endearing cat/person adoration - DOES NOT LIKE THE KITTEN. Or Patsy, our old cat who couldn't care less about all this foolishness. Or the dog. Or ESPECIALLY not Curbie.

Meet Iris (nee Shirley):

I am really not sure what to do about Iris. I've literally, in my 38 years (and not one day over, bitch, even if my birthday is coming up,) NEVER met a cat that was more into people. She is very, super-fabulously sweet...BUT, there's the matter of the bloodcurdling screeching three times a day when Curbie walks in the room. (To be fair, though, Curbie is a total dick. A handsome, smug, charming little fucker, but a dick nonetheless. He's kind of the Jude Law of cats.)

Anyone want a totally lovely cat? Who doesn't already have a cat?

Are there even such people in the world?

Yer funny for the day

2008-09-16T19:06:00.000-07:00

Sunday Muggy Sunday

2008-09-14T13:04:00.000-07:00

It's late afternoon, and I'm watching the aftermath of Hurricane Ike on all the teevees. Galveston and the seaside Houston suburbs look just decimated. It's horrible, and breathtaking.

Our across-the-street neighbors have their parents in from Houston - Kemah, actually, which is a suburb that has been photographed a lot yesterday and today, as it got pretty heavily damaged. They have no idea what their house looks like, and probably will not have any way of finding out for several days, if even then. I cannot even imagine what that must feel like.

That being said, I feel like we dodged a bullet to some degree, here. It was bad, but it really could have been so much worse. The storm surge was not quite as bad as expected, and it appears that, for the most part, people got out, and did so in an orderly fashion, to plenty of shelters around the state.

(I note this in direct contrast to the clusterfucked exodus from Hurricane Rita three years ago, in which 9 people died in the storm, but ONE HUNDRED AND TEN people died in the evacuation. That nightmare will, I hope, NEVER be forgotten.)

Sadly, though, NONE of the rain hit Austin. Not one effing drop. Two counties over, they had three inches of rain; we sit, as parched as ever, grass and trees crisping and withering. I still have banana peppers - because apparently they are the cockroaches of the vegetable garden - but everything else looks deeply, deeply sad (even my tomatoes, which may have been the most successful tomato plants I have ever had). It's ironic - in the Alanis Morrissette way, which is to say not "ironic" at all, but "bittersweet" or "interesting" - that my friends in Fayetteville, Arkansas, and in Chicago, will see more of Hurricane Ike than we did.

And the Austin forecast? More of the same. Oh they say it'll be slightly cooler. (Only in Austin would the weathercasters be raving about a "cold front" coming in that will lower our high temperatures to 86 degrees. In September.) No rain is expected, but, inexplicably, it's still supposed to be humid. Never can figure out how that works.

Anyways, much goodwill to our statemates in the east. I hope everyone reading this from there is OK, and everyone's families are, as well. (Glad to hear the brother's OK, Karla.) We're heading up to donate to the food bank in a bit; probably to the Red Cross as well.

------------------------------------
Stella, the spazzy kitten, appears to be working out. She's a big hit with the kiddos, of course, and even with The Man (who plays the curmudgeon, but who has a deep soft spot for animals).

Here's the thing, though. Like I said, the decision to get the kitten was a very impulsive one. I, um, ALSO, sort of, made a verbal promise to this cat shelter lady last week to look at this sweet, but formerly abused, full-grown cat named Shirley*.

AND, um...I was not exactly forthcoming about all this to The Man.

So...don't tell him, OK?

*Shirley is my mother-in-law's name, so if this is going to happen, then she'll have to be renamed. Do we like "Rosie" or "Iris?" How about "Poverty-Inducing Li'l Parasite?"

He Is My Density

2008-09-09T18:43:00.000-07:00

I realize that I'm waxing a bit obsessive as of late on Mad Men, but...as Karla would say, DAYUM. Just look at Jon Hamm, will you? Because he's, um...PERFECT?

Yes, you all can look. But, that is all. He is truly meant for just me.

Want to know how I know?

I just found out that he graduated from...the UNIVERSITY OF MISSOURI.

And he was there WHEN I WAS THERE*.

And he was...wait for it...

An English major. JUST LIKE ME**.

AND...

HE HUNG OUT AT THE BLUE NOTE.

Aiieee!!

And, here's the freaky thing. All this time I've been watching Mad Men, I've been IMDB'ing him, wondering where on earth I had seen him before. He's been on a bunch of shows, but nothing I had seen.

I am thinking that I fucking had a CLASS with this man. Could it be?

And do you think that if I met him, and suddenly broke into a rousing chorus of the "Tiger Fight Song," that he would sharply and immediately grab me by the shoulders and pull me in for a passionate, sexy-stubbly kiss?

Because I am fairly certain that he would.

____________________________________
*He graduated in '93, me in Winter '91.

**He did theater there, too. I did some...I was only one class away from a minor in it, but I was all backstage/stagecraft. Arky Trish, does he look familiar?

***He also went to UT for a brief time. It's just too much of a coincidence. He's mine.

aaaaahhhhhh

2008-09-08T18:36:00.000-07:00

OMG, ppl. I am in a full-blown anxiety attack about the election, and it is NINE WEEKS AWAY.

My symptoms?

General sleeplessness and angst. I realized tonight that I have effectively been pacing since I got home from work. My head hurts. Friday night, I was awake, worrying, until 1:30 A-fucking-M. Not watching TV, not reading...just worrying.

I am compulsively reading Wonkette, Electoral-Vote.Com, Salon, and Daily Kos. Seriously, like five-six times A DAY. APIECE.

Over the course of the last week, I gave money THREE TIMES. Twice to Barack Obama and once to MoveOn.Org. Not a lot. We don't have a lot. But, still, THREE TIMES in a WEEK. (I gave the most during Palin's speech.)

It is getting very very difficult to avoid my evening glass(es) of wine, diet or no diet.

Irrational kitten acquisition:

Stellaluna. "Stella," for short. Eight weeks old. NO, THIS WAS NOT WELL THOUGHT OUT. I TOLD you I needed to start drinking again.

Hey, she was free with a bag of food at my vet's office. Now, WHAT WOULD YOU DO?

2008-09-04T17:18:00.000-07:00

Hey, I thought I was joking in my last post...but it turns out Wasilla really IS the meth capital of Alaska.

Hey, what can I say? I'm from Missouri! I can smell good meth across an entire continent.

Urgh. They're TALKING again.

2008-09-03T19:12:00.000-07:00

I wanted to liveblog the Republican convention, but I have to keep turning it off every few minutes or so.

I got through Huckabee OK, but Rudy 9iul1an1? Just can't stomach that rat weasel.

Sarah, Sarah, Sarah. I still don't care what your daughter did, or whether your husband makes John Edwards look like a piker on the faithfulness front. You have my permission to have whatever sordid little snowbilly life you want.

(Hell, I'm no one to judge; I married a man from Rockdale, TX. And, besides, I don't want to make anyone mad up there, because their little meth teeth are already ground down far enough.)

However, Sarah...may I call you Sarah?

I care VERY deeply that your effing party has seen to it that "abstinence-based sex education" is the only way that MY children will be taught in this bass-ackward state. Again, I don't judge, but, *cough* how well is that working out for you?

I am horrified and repulsed by your statement that "Iraq is a task from God." I loathe your stance that opposes abortion in ALL CASES, INCLUDING RAPE AND INCEST. The fact that you are a creationist, and yet are still ostensibly taken seriously as a CANDIDATE IN THIS COUNTRY, is beyond my comprehension.

Wait a minute, I have to interrupt... OH MY GOD RUDY GIULIANI IS A VILE RAT BASTARD WEASEL ASSFACE.

Sorry. Where was I? Oh, yes, SARAH.

You "don't believe" in global warming. You worked to get the polar bear off the endangered species list. You cut social services...um, to unwed mothers! You were totally for millions of dollars in earmarks to your state, until you were suddenly a big reformer!

Oh, and DUDE. You prance onto my television, and you DARE to utter the name of Hillary Clinton? Hillary, who was forged into being a worthy candidate in the WHITE-HOT FLAMES of scrutiny? Oh, I want Joe Biden to make some comment about that in the debates...."I know Hillary Clinton, maam, and you, YOU, are NO Hillary Clinton."

Oh, there is so much to fight you on, and none of it has to do with your family or personal life. It is on, lady, IT IS ON.

*I kids me some Alaskans. Your meth teeth are really cute, actually!

2008-09-01T18:46:00.000-07:00

For those who know me, and especially those that know me well, I apologize. I'm not sure why, exactly, but I have been studiously avoiding social contact for the past several weeks. I haven't gone anywhere, and I haven't called anybody.

It must be returning to work. It always throws me for a few weeks, the daily grind beginning again, after 10 weeks off. Somehow, though, it seems harder this year.

This may be due to the fact that I changed offices. It took so effing long to move all my stuff between the two offices, and then it took another full day to get out all of the existing stuff that the preceding person had left in there. It was really a whole week before I was substantively and technologically "in" to my new place, and then another whole week before I had enough people's names down to make a specific plan as to what to do, and when. So, as it's been, now, two full weeks since I went back but have yet to accomplish - oh, anything, really - I really have to hit the ground with my figurative chainsaw drawn tomorrow.

And yet, I don't want to. I want to lie around my house, or go to the gym, or watch Mad Men/ Project Runway/Weather Porn/college football/CNN on the TV. I want to go back to the lake like we did today, thanks to Bill and Julie. I want to drink a bottle of cheapo Vinho Verde and giggle lazily with The Man. I want to play with the girls on the trampoline, and to stay up until 2 AM playing poker. I want to do ANYTHING but work, and by definition, to have to interact with the world.

Sadly, though, I've got nine more months to go. So, I shall steel myself, and do what needs to be done. I will also endeavor to begin calling people again, and perhaps to keep - or to make - some engagements.

Honestly, though, there's not much to report on the home front. I've been super fabulous on my "40 by 40" weight loss and fitness kick...or, I was, up until yesterday, when I broke my nearly month-long moratorium on alcohol. I tell ya, though I did not get drunk, I am not able to drink ANYTHING and lose weight. Not one damn glass of red wine can pass my lips if I want to have any success, because with ONE DRINK, I suddenly lose all inhibitions about what I will eat. I think it makes me a little sick to my stomach, so I immediately must have a cheeseburger/two slices of pizza/10 handfuls of chips to soak it up. And, of course, since I've eaten, I might as well have more to drink, no?

However, I'm committed, and really don't have any more intentions of drinking or eating beyond my limits for weight loss. That's one thing about working; I have a much easier time restricting my food intake when I'm busy than when I'm not. At work, I can really survive just fine on Egg Beaters for breakfast and a Lean Cuisine for lunch; this is just not the case during the summer.

I joined a new gym by my new office. I liked my old gym, Body Business, a lot, but proximity is a big key to my gym attendance. If I have no choice but to drive past it on my way home, I will likely go. However, if I have to drive out of my way to see it, or if it's inconvenient insofar as the "picking up of the kids" ritual goes, I will likely never attend.

So, I sadly dropped the Body Business membership in favor of this new gym, which I will hereafter refer to as "24-Year-Old Fitness." I know what I need to do, and will just get in there and do it without too much fuss, but I think I already hate this place. It's totally crowded and loud, and, as perhaps alluded to in my snarky nickname, it's just so...young. Like, UT student young. (Honestly, why do they go there? They HAVE a nice gym. They should just keep their taut little bodies away from the real people, you know?)

Anyway, for several weeks now, I've worked out, I've dieted, I've been totally sober, and I've started taking th' hormones. You'd think I'd be like 10 pounds thinner, but, sadly, it's more like four. (Maybe three, after eating and drinking yesterday. Oh, all right, today, too.)

Ah, well, the journey of a thousand steps - or "40 by 40," as it were - starts with four, no?

Oh, and yes, I've been marveling over the Sarah Palin VP choice. Some of you know that I read the right-wing websites - the super-crazy ones - a LOT. Like, way too much, honestly. I'm just fascinated by the way they think, and want to know what they're saying about us. Well, they've been loving her for MONTHS now, and were just absolutely delighted that she got chosen.

So, I honestly wasn't too surprised when McCain went for her, though I admit to being a little shocked at his brazenness, his cynicism, and his presumptuousness. I am outraged that he would be so presumptuous as to assume that I might vote for this person, whose opinions are anathema to EVERYTHING I hold dear, simply on the basis of her gender. I am repulsed by the notion that this would, or could, work on ANYONE.

This is not to slander the woman. I've seen a lot of that buzzing around teh interwebs, and I reject that wholeheartedly. I'm sure that she's not evil, and that I could have a perfectly lovely conversation with her in the lounge at work, you know? And, I think that we underestimate her at our peril.

However, this is not to say that I think that Joe Biden shouldn't mop the floors with her in the debate. If she's in this, I say, let her be IN THIS, and if she doesn't know her shit, then let the chips fall where they may.

And, if Joe falls behind in the debates, he can always bring up the fact that an anagram of "Sarah Heath Palin" is "Ha ha Alpine Trash."

Can't post.

2008-08-27T18:24:00.000-07:00

Still geeking out on the convention. It started slow, but it's really gotten rolling.

Knocked it out of the park:

Michelle. Warm, witty, earnest. She reminds me of another first lady whose last name started with "O." Plus she looked HOTT. And did you see what she is wearing tonight? With the flowers on the collar? I think I may have a girl crush on her.
Hillary. Super-powerful. Not faked. Just what needed to happen. Damn, though, are we sure we nominated the right one? And allowing her to request the nomination by acclaim was an awesome touch.
Dennis Kucinich. Yes, that's right. His six minutes were the most fun out of ALL of them so far. He got that crowd going apeshit. It's very worth YouTubing.
Bill. He's a smart man, and I liked his endorsement. I've said it before, and I'll say it again. I had so many problems with his presidency - none of which had to do with oral sex with anyone - but, like that abusive husband of rote, when I saw what the alternative was, sigh...how I missed that man.
John Kerry. I'm even surprised by this one. But, thank god SOMEONE FINALLY said that this Swift Boat shit is NOT going to fly this time. Seriously, have you heard this "Barack Obama is associated with a member of the friggin' old as dirt Weather Underground" rumor? This is INSANE.

Meh:

Mark Warner. Kinda robotic, and oddly tanned.
Nancy Pelosi. Eh, her speech was fine. I'm just perpetually annoyed by her. All I ever wanted was a strong, woman leader, and...this is the best they can do?
All the goddamn pundits on CNN. Does anyone else fantasize about punching David Gergen in the head? I finally turned on CSPAN just to tune out the noise.

I'm looking forward to Joe Biden. He's funny, and smart, and isn't afraid to take swipes at these bastards. The Man thinks he is a bit of a blowhard, but I like him.

The relentless McCain commercial barrage has been pretty impressive, I must admit. And the ads are absoulutely nauseating in their negativity. Oh, and did anyone hear that McCain may name his running mate TOMORROW? The night of Obama's acceptance speech? During the week that the opposing candidates traditionally TAKE OFF? John McCain, you used to be classy. Too bad the Rushbots ate your soul.

You know, it's weird not to see Jesse Jackson there. I remember his serious candidacy back in '88, which was my first presidential election. (I remember, even then, thinking that my first presidential vote - for Michael Dukakis - was kind of a letdown.) Jesse's ALWAYS there, man. It's too bad he took a "falling off the turnip truck" turn, there, at the end.

You know how into this I am? TOTALLY forgot it was "Project Runway" night.

(Oh, and if you watch this totally inane show - like I do, slavishly, every week - you should really catch up with the guys on Project Rungay. They are heee-larious, and have absolutely wormed their way into being THE complete insiders on that show.)

---------------------------------------
Just an update...it's finally time to tell you the YG's real name.

Because, well, she announced that she was ready to change it. Her new name, she proudly proclaims, is "Cherry Sparkle."

I'm so proud. I hear Sugar's is hiring.

Noooo!

2008-08-26T19:15:00.000-07:00

I've discovered a popular social networking website.

Jeeminy. I'm hooked like Book. Goodbye, rest of my life.

Grrr.

2008-08-25T16:10:00.000-07:00

Stupid Firefox lost my last post!

It was a brilliant diatribe on the idiocy that is this TOTALLY FAKE "PUMA" movement - this so-called "group of life-long Democrats" who insist that they are going to vote for John McCain because of the way that Hillary was treated in the primary.

And it had all kinds of links to show you that the leader of this movement sent $500 to ... um, let's see, who was it...oh, yes, JOHN McCAIN, in 2000. And not dollar one to ANY Democrat.

Bah. You'll just have to believe me. Because I just can't bring myself to recreate it.

In any case, on this, the first night of the convention - which I will be watching from gavel to gavel, because I AM LIKE THAT - I beg of you, DON'T BELIEVE THIS shite.

The Nixonites had a name for it - ratfucking. They invented it, when they stole stationery from Muskie and McGovern and wrote horrible things, supposedly from one campaign to the other, to divide the Democrats. And they've been perfecting it ever since, from Lee Atwater and Willie Horton, to the Broward County "riot" during the Florida recount, and of course everything that Karl Rove has ever touched, ever, in his life.

I will admit, however, that they are good at it. And I am completely fearful that people are buying it.

Spread the word. Unify. No more trash-talking each other - and I MEAN it - or I fear that we will have four more years of this nightmare.

-----------------------------
Oh, P.S.

Do you know what is the absolute AWESOMEST thing that can happen to you AT WORK?

Yes! You're right! It's diarrhea!

SO cool.

The Girl Who Wasn't There

2008-08-19T18:50:00.001-07:00

My girls have been going through a phase of discussing their "imaginary friends."

I think that, with the OG, who is eight, it is mostly an excuse to make new characters on the Wii. (For the unen-Wii-lightened, one may create "Miis" with different physical characteristics to play the different games. The OG alone has made about 30 of them, including "Mallory," "Vallory," "Janet," and "Carter." And no, I don't know why my daughter is stuck in the 80's in her naming of these friends. Perhaps we'll get a "Krystal" or a "Fallon" next.)

I know that this is typical of kids, and am not concerned about this as a phase at all. I worry a bit that this is a reaction to the fact that she hasn't gotten a lot of invitations to play from school friends this summer, though. Any invitations, really, besides a birthday party. Realistically, though, I don't think she's really noticed, as we've been gone so much, and been so busy during the time we've been home. And, she's played quite a bit with our friends' kids, whom I honestly think she prefers above all others, anyway. However, it does sort of bother me; I wonder if her school, chosen for its quality, suffers from the side effect of being a bit too clique-y.

The YG, though, has brought a new spin to this production. Of course, as the YG, she slavishly copies her older sister, and as this game provides an invitation for them to actually play together rather than engaging in fevered mutual antagonism, she promptly devised several imaginary friends of her own.

Just within the last week, the most prominent of her imaginary friends has been "Callie." Now, the thing about Callie is, is that the YG has begun to blame Callie for everything wrong that the YG does.

For example, she was talking loudly the other night, and keeping my mother and the OG awake. (My mom is visiting from KC, and taking care of the YG whilst I return to work, and before her school starts. They like to crash in the office bed together when she visits.)

I went in several times to tell her to shut it - nicely and motherly, of course, because how could I NOT speak to my children that way - and, she replied, "IT'S NOT ME! IT'S CALLIE! SHE'S TALKING!" We went through this dance three times before I carted her off to her own room, with her screaming the whole way that it was CALLIE'S fault, NOT hers, and that I should get CALLIE in trouble, not her!

Tonight, she hit her sister, probably for good reason; however, she again refused to admit fault, instead again blaming Callie. Callie doesn't pick up her plate after dinner, Callie got water all over the bathroom floor, and it was absolutely Callie who trashed the YG's room.

So, I think I need the services of an armchair psychologist, or perhaps an exorcist. Because this bitch Callie has GOT TO GO.

--------------------------------
Urgh, I'm working again. My summer is over, and I am so, so sad. Pity me?

I spent all day yesterday moving offices, and crying a bit, because I have good friends at my other office, and in general I am NOT GOOD WITH TRANSITIONS. (My mother, who as I mentioned is here right now, stated as much when she saw me last night. In her words, "You NEVER wanted to change grades, or change classes, EVER. When you were in preschool, you cried when you changed from the Blue Room to the Yellow Room." Yes, OG, you don't fall far from the tree.)

The combination of emotions, a return to getting up at six-friggin'-A-M, and a full day of manual labor just slayed me last night, and today. I feel as though a gang of street toughs has spent the day hitting me with a shovel.

However, I think I'll probably like my new office. It's bigger, and has a window, which is a big step up from the previous one. Annoyingly enough, however, the previous occupant retired, and in so doing, left all of her shite, including two large cabinets full of books and stuffed-full file folders (thus rendering it impossible for ME to put MY shite in them).

And, she left flamingoes. Flamingo pens, flamingo cups, flamingo decorations, and a big ol' flamingo poster. If it had a flamingo on it - or was indeed flamingo-colored - it appears to be in this office.

The pack rat in me hates to throw things away, thinking that someone, somewhere, may need them. But I am afraid there is going to be some major landfill clogging soon.

I'll try to salvage what I can, but I think there may be some heretofore unsuspected psychic pain on my part if I continue looking at the pink bejeweled pencil cup much longer.

Did you know?

2008-08-13T06:54:00.000-07:00

That I'll be playing in our annual, all-day, 30-person Texas Hold 'Em tournament this weekend? And that I intend to do better than just make it to the final table this year?

That they are going to do a remake of Rocky Horror?

That I know every line of the original Rocky Horror? And still know many of the shout-back lines?

That if you Street View my house on Google Maps, that you can see not only my two children, but also my gigantic ass bent over the passenger side of my car? (And NO, I'm not telling you my address. If you know it, you will receive this unique gift. There.)

That I am totally, completely, unabashedly, OBSESSED with Mad Men? (If you haven't, then go rent the first season. RIGHT. NOW.) And that Swingtown didn't really work out for me?

That we have been battling an under-the-house, erm, rodent problem this summer, for the very first time in our lives? And, that this little problem apparently costs scads of money to remedy, between the pest control guys, and the duct inspections/cleanings, and the new, sealed compost pile, and eventually the new sealing-off of the pier-and-beam foundation?

That I have, since my ankle surgery in May (and thus my hiatus from serious exercise,) put back on EVERY ONE of the fifteen pounds I lost between January and April?

That those fifteen pounds have brought along two little friends? So I now weigh more than I have, excepting pregnancies...um, since...EVER?

That because of this, I have joined an impromptu Weight Watchers-esque group with Christie that we are calling "Friend Watchers," that involves weighing in once a week? Which met tonight? And that it was so awesome to get on that scale in a room full of people? (We didn't peek, but still. Awesome.)

That I have to start work again very, very soon? And that I got moved to a different worksite? So, instead of chillin' and reviewing on Monday, I shall be MOVING instead?

And that I am not good with transitions, so I am all kinds of anxious tonight, to the point that my carefully-grown fingernails are now completely extinct?

That The Man is so freakin' excited that tomorrow is the opening day of Olympic Track and Field, that I genuinely expect not to see his eyes turned in my (or my children's) direction for the next ten days?

That, in all truthfulness, I could literally, loudly, fuck another man in his presence, and I think all he'd do is tell us to keep it down because the last lap of the 10,000 meters was coming up?

That this thought genuinely occurs to me during the 10 days of the Olympics?

Port A recap

2008-08-10T18:40:00.000-07:00

Home again, home again, jiggety jig. We are back from our third annual trip to Port Aransas, a.k.a. "Port A" in the Texan parlance. (Or, maybe it's just my parlance; I think they call Port Arthur "Port A," too. But I digress.)

Port Aransas, for the non-Texans amongst us, is a small town on Mustang Island, on the Gulf Coast about four hours away from Austin. The beach at Mustang Island (which is effectively on North Padre Island) is...well, it's nicer than some Texas beaches, like around the Houston/Galveston area. It's not as pretty as South Padre, which has more of that white sand-palm tree beach look about it; however, it has the big advantage (when one has children in the car) of being two hours closer to Austin, and also of being generally cheaper and not as touristy.

Port A, I think, is of two minds. It appears to want to embrace the beach tourism dollahs, and yet still keep its "sleepy fishing village" ethos. Generally, it's still a pretty charming place, and the growth, while evident, appears to be moving very slowly.

This is the third summer we've driven down there with some of our best buddies, including this family and this family, and for the first time, this family. So, that made a grand total of eight adults, four older kiddos (7-10) and four younger girls - all age four - in two three-bedroom condos. (And, I am so terribly sad that I was just too perpetually tipsy this trip to drag out my camera. A gang of four-year-old girls is a sight to behold. )

We stayed at the Sandpiper again this year, which is an older but well-maintained condo property south of Port A on the Mustang Island beachfront. I like this place for many reasons. The rooms are clean and pleasant, and apparently completely soundproof, which is an important factor when you have children who shriek as loud as our children do when they are together. Most importantly, however, all of the rooms have large balconies that directly face the beach.

Aaah. Internets, there is something just so indescribably glorious about sitting on a beach-facing balcony on a clear August night, punctuated by the odd early Perseid meteor, with a few excellent friends and a vast (and frankly shocking) amount of alcohol at one's disposal. I just love it.

We got there first, and The Man declared his intent to grab the condo with the biggest television so he could watch the Olympics. This we did, and were pleasantly surprised to see that this room was also by far the nicest condo we had ever seen. It was tastefully and expensively furnished, and had actual art on the walls that was not seashell-based. The master bedroom (which we grabbed somewhat shamefacedly, but, y'know, still GRABBED) was huge, with a super-nice and comfy pillowtop mattress. And the blockout shades - OH, my friends, these blockout shades? The electric kind, inside the windows? That MAKE THE ROOM PITCH BLACK AT NOON? I am just a little jonesing to have them installed in my house like RIGHT NOW.

My alcohol imbibing over 72 hours included, um...let's see...beer (good and bad,) wine (red and white,) Bloody Marys, margaritas, sidecars, and pina coladas. Oh, and there was that misbegotten and short-lived whim of trying a Bud Light mixed with Clamato. It was so awful that I think I would have liked it better if it had had actual, literal ass chunks mixed up in there.

In the few precious seconds in between drinking, we ate well. The first night, the Bookharts brought red beans-n-rice, which is a big pile of awesome in the MagsMan household. The next night, I had several servings of some delightful Baked Ziti a la Noxious. Finally, the last night, Mrs. Po bought us all some absolutely massive and incredibly fresh shrimp*, which was thusly wrapped in bacon, brushed with garlic butter and cajun seasoning, and grilled.

I need to just stop and interject that there are NO WORDS to describe how good these shrimp were.

Sigh.

Man, what a fun trip, for every member of my family. I am so very relaxed. (And yes, tired, and fat, and mildly hung over.) I would like to go on record as saying that, as long as my winter home in Bora Bora is still in the planning stages, I hope that we do this every year.

*If you're going there, you MUST go to Oceans of Seafood, the best, and most violently pink, seafood market on the island. They specialize in tourists standing there looking confused, and will tell you exactly what you need and exactly how much. And $14.99 a pound for the biggest, freshest, most beautiful srimps in the place beats the holy HELL out of Central Market.