Help--I'm drowning in CSA

What a... nice Thanksgiving gift!

We got home today and our hippie box was on our front porch, all full of organic goodness. And there was a note.

"Your bin was packed as a Large, at no extra charge. Happy Thanksgiving!"

What a great idea! Now, if only we didn't have trouble using all our crap from our usual small box, it's be perfect!

Seriously, we are having true troubles using everything up before its all limp and liquidy. And I'm not talking about the rootabegas and the leeks. I'm talking average stuff. Carrots. Organic carrots get really limp and... well, limp if you don't eat them fast enough. And the onions! Dear GOD does anyone want organic onions? We get two to three a week, use one or two, so they build and build and build so we had like ten (after giving away a bunch last week) and NOW we get FIVE MORE! FIVE more ONIONS! Is there a way to make, like, onion pasta with a side of onions? (my students, they would looooove it! and andrew's coworkers! Ooooo, and his darts team! we'd be suuuper popular!)

I get that kale and chard are staples, so I'm prepared for those, but I think I need to reassess my approach to this whole thing.

I will say: I've never eaten so healthy in my entire damn life.

Anyone want an organic onion? Or two?

Ya, Sure, You betcha

Finally, the Minnesota in my accent (an odd amalgamation of Tennessee, Chicago and Minnesota, which leads me to say things that come out like, "Y'all need to talk to dose guys over dere, ya knoooow?") comes to good use.

I am taking Norwegian class. It's awesome. I can say all those funny vowels, like the a-with-a-halo (å). Basically, all I have to do is pull out the Minnesotan in my voice, mix it with a little Swedish Chef, and I'm good. For instance, å is like saying a super Minnesotan "Minnesoooota", only leave out the "t". That last vowelly bit, after the s? That's å.

So, "jaså" (a sort of, "oh, really?" interjection) ends up sounding reeeeally Minnesotan, in both tone and meaning.

Of course, there's also a few million other ways to say o and u, and they're all slightly different, and then there's the other "extra" vowels, like æ (a really really flat a sound) and ø (sort of like a cow with heartburn) but I'm working on them, and they're coming pretty naturally.

I don't know if you've noticed my name here before, but it's Kari. Not your typical every day American spelling. Atypical enough, in fact, that whenever anyone else could find a personalized keychain, license plate or stuffed animal, I had nothing.

It is, however, a fairly typical Norwegian spelling. So Norwegian, in fact, that every other dialogue involves some poor girl named Kari. "Is her name Kari? No, her name is not Kari. Her name is Anne." "Is your name Kari? Yes, my name is Kari. How do you spell it? I spell it K-A-R-I." "Is Kari a student? Yes, she goes to University. What does she study? Kari studies biology and chemistry."

Yes, it's not exactly rocket science (clearly. Who's ever heard of a Norwegian rocket scientist?) but it certainly keeps me paying attention in class.

What I like best, though, is that if you go by the vocabulary we've learned so far, Norwegians are THE politest people on the planet. For instance, at the end of a conversation, instead of saying something like, "See you later!" we've learned that you say, "Takk for nå," meaning, literally, "Thanks for now." Like, "Thanks for this most recent time we've spent together, chatting." It's like the ultimate way to live in the moment, you know?

Or our professor ends every class with "Takk for i dag," meaning, Thanks for today. Us! Thanking us, the students! I love it.

I have class tomorrow, and I've already done my homework, written my flash cards, and practiced my dialogues. I'm such a geek.

Coming out from under

I've been sick this week. It started off with a "No, I'll be fine... soon..." and ended with a whimper. I finally called in sick on Thursday. And then I slept till noon. And went back to bed at eight. Apparently I'd been sicker than I thought.

I'm still not 100%, but I'd say I'm about 98%. Anyway, that is both my excuse and my reason for not posting this week. Excuse, because "I've been siiiiick", but also reason because: well, I've been sick, so really, very little interesting has made it past the concrete in my head to make much of an impression.

This next week is the Week O' Appointments. One on Wednesday, one on Friday--probably. As these things go. And the only time the Friday one could be scheduled was midday, so I'm burning more sick time then. Life would be so much easier if I were a lady of leisure. I'd be batshit crazy by now, but I wouldn't have to worry about using up sick days and making sub plans and rearranging lesson plans for doctor's appointments.

And while I'm at it: we're paying these dudes enough, really--couldn't they have appointment times AFTER, oh, 3:30? I'm just saying.

These are kind of high-stakes appointments, so I'm kind of trying not to think about them for right now. Kind of. Denial! Operation Distracts-a-Lot: go get makeovers with Emily! Go car shopping and test drive new cars! Go to the convention center and see the Home Remodelers Show! Watch a lot of netflix! Cook! Gah, even grading was a good distraction for a couple hours today.

And of course, while wandering these hallowed halls of American consumerism, I manage to run into my fertile collegues with spousal units in tow. One, Miss I Need MILK for My HEARTBURN, while she was coming out of Motherhood Maternity (not awkward! not awkward at ALL!), and the other at the convention center, wrangling her boys and her little girl.

Because sometimes, apparently the Powers That Be don't want me distracted.

Congratulations! You've Had a Baby! 1940s-style.

Part of the Paperwork Onslaught from Operation Granparents included a book the hospital gave my grandmother when my mom was born.

It's a gem. Now, as we all know, I don't have kids. So while I can't attest to the hilarity that this might induce, I do want everyone to know what the world perpetrated on mothers in the 1940's.

First, you open the book to great, creep-tastic Wartime ads.







No pressure, there, sport.














Then there are "articles":

Do's and Don'ts (my comments are next to the text)

Do: Keep your baby on an exact time schedule as far as possible.
Do: Bathe your baby every day. In hot weather, he should also be sponged two or three times a day. (really? two to three times a day? who does this?)
Do: Be sure the baby gets at least sixteen hours sleep a day the first year and from twenty to twenty-two hours sleep the first month. (I hear the hooting from here.)
Do: Give the baby complete quiet at feeding and sleeping hours. (It's like early Scientology!)
Don't: If you feed your baby out of a silver mug, be careful that the cup is not too hot.
Don't: give the baby tea, coffee, beer or wine of any kind, fried foods, pickles (?!), pie, lollypops, candy of any kind, nuts, pancakes, berries, ice cream cones (???), rich cakes, puddings, or meat gravies. (also: don't pound them in the head with hammer, feed them rancid meat, or let them eat out of the kitty litter box. Also: no radishes. But raw yolk is okay (see next article))
Don't rock or jounce your baby unncessarily. (DAMN that unnecessary jouncing.)
Don't let nayone kiss your baby if you can avoid it but if you cannot, let the kissing be done on the back of the baby's neck. (No, no wait! don't do that! Here, let me turn him over first: NOW you can kiss him!)
Though he cries, don't pick up your baby if he is well. A good lusty cry is excellent exercise. (Because I'm sure that's what'll run through your head: At least this is good exercise...)
Don't wash out your baby's mouth unless your doctor tells you to. (Whew! And to think: I was about to wash out my baby's mouth! WITH VODKA!)
Don't leave safety pins open. (I especially like the last one, because NORMALLY I think it's a good idea to leave safety pins open and about. However, once you have a baby, that's a bad idea. Only then.)

"This is How We Spend Our Day"
This is how the schedule starts:

5:55 a.m.: Diaper and night gown changed so that breakfast be better enjoyed.
(My friend Leah: "I don't think I dressed my kid for the first month. Or me.")
6:00 a.m.: Breakfast served--a la breast or via bottle
6:25 a.m.: Diaper replacement due.
6:30 a.m.: Back to bed for a snooze (we hope)
8:50 a.m.: (if awake) Orange juice. If sleeping, of course, do not disturb.
9:10 a.m.: Clothes off--all save the diaper-and into his crip or onto the top of his bathtub, safely strapped, for setting-up exercises of his choosing ("I'd really prefer the pilates today, mother."). Cod liver oil served "in the nude" saves spotting of clothing and is acceptable just before being dressed. (AFTER being dressed, however, it's worse than wearing white shoes after Labor Day.)

And so it goes... "10:30 a.m.: Nap, preferably out of doors." Um, really?

"2:00 p.m.: Refreshments; milk of course; egg yolk and other solids." Apparently, they didn't have that pesky salmonella back then.

And so on, until "10:00 p.m: Liquid refreshments--if infant and doctor insist. Diaper changing and back to sleep until 5:50 a.m."

Heh heh. That's exactly how I've heard of it working.

Now, this, of course, is predicated on the "6-to-6" schedule, but if you prefer, you can train your baby to the "8-to-8" schedule "if you're persistant."

"We guarantee it will sound fine to the man of the house who will not be awakened daily before break of dawn."

"His eating at 12 noon, would leave you free to keep your 1 p.m. luncheon engagements." Because I know those luncheon engagements (where does baby go? with you? I didn't know there was a baby-keeping place at luncheons) are of utmost importance to new mama's. Over, say, dressing. Or showering. Or maybe napping.

Also included in the book: all the updates from my mother's pediatrician appointments.

When Mom left the hospital, she was eight days old. And included on the "Instructions for Mothers" is
--The baby should nurse for not longer than twenty minutes
--Offer warm, b oiled water between feedings when the baby is awake.
--The formula recipe is: Carnation milk, 5 ounces, boiled water, 9 ounces, and Dark Karo CORN SYRUP, 1 and 1/2 tablespoons.

One month later:
--You can discontinue the nursing now.
--Make a formula using One large can of Carnation milk, 23 oz of water, 3.5 tbls. of Karo
--Offer 4 1/2-5 oz of this formula every 4 hours, 5 times daily
--After feedings occasionally, offer 1-2 eas. of water, to keep the mouth rinsed out.
--Give 3 drops of the Percomorphum oil twice daily. Drop this on the back of her tongue.
--At the same times that you give the oild rops, give 1/2 oz of strained orange juice diluted in 1/2 oz of water. Sweeten if necessary (sweeten????).

But really, it's in the back, where the ads get really good.





Look! It's the essentials for your baby! That include: strapping your baby in bed! Because that's totally safe! Safer than letting them ROLL AROUND LIKE COMMUNISTS! And also! a stuffed animal absolutely COVERED in chewable bite-sized buttons! BY DESIGN! It's even CALLED the "Button Buddy!" Your child's choking hazards should be portable! Now, they're conveniently attached to a dog-shaped...thing!







No, really, rub your baby's head with this bottle of... uh... stuff... seriously, we make chocolate, and that's good and tasty, right? And babies with curly hair are cute! so... no, there's no chocolate in this, but you trust us, right? And it's only a dollar!








You can't think about toilet training too early, so this ad, in this magazine given to you JUST AFTER YOU'VE GIVEN BIRTH, before you've probably pooped in a toilet yourself, is perfectly placed! But moreover, checck out our extra super special detail: yes, about half-way down, it's the TOIDEYETTE: "tall plastic shield and deflector".... Even better, strapping your child into a training potty WILL NOT GIVE THEM A TOILET COMPLEX IN ANY WAY WHATSOEVER, WE SWEAR.








Apparently they were really into strapping those kidlets down at every available opportunity. Look at this ad, from a seemingly innocent Qtips:





Yay! Qtips and a baby! It's cute! Look, it even says, "It's Fun!" "There's a cotton tip at each end of the stick to save you time." (Uh, I added that emphasis.) But all is not so innocent--no! Take another look at that Mama and happy baby:











Scary Mommy! Scary Mommy, threatening Giganto Baby with Pointy Thing! Giganto Baby, strapped in, can't escape!












I think this explains a lot about our parents, don't you?

End of Summer.

I have been spectacularly unproductive this week. About the most useful things I've done are: I gave blood, and I squeegeed the new storm door.

I had to use my new 99-cent IKEA squeegee which by the way has a name. It's the LETTEN. So even a 99-cent squeegee has a goofy Swedish name.

And in trying to google what the name of the squeegee is, I found folks who are selling the squeegee! On Ebay! For $2.99!!!! That's some markup.

Anyway, my summer is basically over--next week I'm in AP training again. I know, your pity is overwhelming. But it's part relief and part disappointment. I get to have a purpose every day again, a reason to shower and get dressed again. On the other hand, I haven't reorganized the basement like I had planned to, cleaned out the garage like I had planned to.

I did this training last year, but I did it in waaaaaay northern Washington, so I had to sleep in a hotel every night. It basically sucked. Now I get to do this training here and come home every night which is way cool. Plus, I couldn't have gone away this week anyway, because I'll have at least one if not two doctor's appointments this week which would have been difficult from waaaaaaay northern Washington.

So, bye bye summer, hello fall. Hello Back to School clothes (thank you Mommy!), reasons to wear new super cute shoes, and homework. Good bye aimless lonely days, copious free time, and America's Next Top Model marathons. See you on the other side.

I'm baaaaaaack!

AAAAAhhhhhhhh. Internet connectivity at last.

Our wireless access point had been slowly dying for a while. We'd be connected--then we werent--then we were--then we weren't. That was frustrating.

But not nearly so frustrating as when it'd died altogether.

Which led to lots of conversations that went like this:

"I can stop by Best Buy and pick up a new hub, but which one should I get?"

"Here, I'll go find one for you on the... ARGH!"

or

"Can you write down where we're going?"

"Yeah, I'll just go look it up on... ARGH!"

or

"You haven't uploaded pictures in forEVER!"

"I'll do it right after camping then... ARGH!"

Yeah.

Apparently our household is stupid dependent on magic invisible pictures that fly through the air to appear on our computer screens. And I found exactly which sites are blocked at school (YouTube, updating on blogspot, the comments sections of any blog) and which were not (blogs themselves, THANK GOD! I kept up to date on Go Fug Yourself!) and that I severely missed my RSS feeder.

But it's all better, all reconnected. There's nothing like going to your RSS feeds and seeing, oh look! Melissa's updated! TWELVE TIMES!

So stay tuned for new pictures on Flickr--soon, I swear--and other stories. But it's 11 and I've put off my usual Saturday morning chores to get re-updated on Pink is the New Blog and so now I have to go do some of the crap I've been saying I'd do all along.

Besides, now that I have the internet again, I can listen to NPR while cleaning the basement. So I'd better do it before our WAP dies again.

Days

Yesterday started with giving blood and running into a friend at the next little recliney bench("Hey, anything new?" "Well, our son was born." "Well, yeah, besides that?").

It rounded the corner teaching Will how to watch the Kentucky Derby, substituting apple juice for mint julep*. "See, they lead the horses into the little rooms... and close the gates... and now ready? set? GO! GO! GO!" Given the roomful of adults slightly tipsy from National Home Brewers Day** and tasty tasty mint juleps, in the end, Will's only description of the Derby ends up something like this, "Horses! Go Fast! Real Loud! Yayyyyyy!!!" with lots of clapping to celebrate.

Then my day gently turned the corner as I chaperoned Prom. Some things (the hair, sprayed to withstand a tornado, the tuxes making the boys ever so slightly uncomfortable and unnatural) never change, while others (cleavage, dear GOD THE CLEAVAGE) certainly do.

No real point to this posting, other than to notice and earmark how very weird and whiplashy yesterday was.


-----
* (which, except for the spring of mint inserted by a delicious mint julep maker person, look startlingly similar, so I can understand Will's confusion).

**Seriously, National Home Brewers Day, the Derby, and Cinco de Mayo, all on the same day: it's a wonder we any of us have livers left.

Anatomy of a weekend.

Usually, I overschedule myself.

Overscheduled Me is a total bitch. I mean, a BEEEEYOTCH of epic proportions.

Unscheduled me? Muuuuuch more mellow.

The side benefit of hermitting and cocooning because I feel sorry for myself is that my social calendar has slowed immensely. Not that friends aren't inviting me places; they are. Just that I'm being much more choosy. Not that my friends' events don't sound delectable; they do. Just that it's really really hard to beat sitting on my front porch doing a crossword puzzle* with a glass of wine.

This weekend I had a very short list of goals. The big advantage to a really short list of goals? Easy to accomplish.

Laundry? Check.
Clean the front rooms? Check.
Dig up the nasty-ass old-lady rosebushes** and replant something, ANYTHING? Check.

I ROCK. AND I'm not stressed.

BOOYAH.

----
*Note: given my family's obsession with crossword puzzles, and now the revelation that my high school math teacher has become a Will Shortz Published New York Times Crossword Author, I have more supplies of books of Sunday crossword puzzles than any one person should have. Spiral bound and otherwise. I have more crossword puzzles than I could do in, literally, a month of Sundays.

It's AWESOME.

**When we bought our house, it had recently passed from Mrs. S, who had inhabited the house for thirty-odd years. She left her mark in three--THREE--different freezers, one of which had a handle that had broken off so it couldn't be opened (leaving the piecrust, steak and fish (!!!) in it until the junkers came to pick it up), two nicotine-soaked rooms (that took one full week of painting to keep the tar from soaking back through the primer and paint) and yard full of prissy prissy roses. I got rid of three bushes and one puffball rose tree.

Next up: the dumbass droopy trees in the front yard. Their asses are... well... grass.

Repetition makes the heart grow fonder.

Games Will and I have made up with his parents aren't looking:

Put your hand under your jaw, in a fist (a la Rodin's The Thinker). Now, without moving your fist or lower jaw, open your mouth (will necessitate moving the upper part of your head back, sort of like Guy Smilie from Sesame Street). Go "Ya! Ya! Ya!" while doing so. Giggle until you lose breath. Repeat. And then repeat again. And then repeat again.

Put cardstock insert from magazine on top of tennis ball can. Blow card off. Scream with glee. Repeat. And then repeat again. And then repeat again.

Put (teeny wee) hat on Kari's (ginormous, huge) head. "Blow" off (with perhaps, reportedly, assistance from a flinging motion of Kari's hand). Repeat. And then repeat again. And then repeat again.

Help Woody and Buzz perform "I'm a Little Teapot" in basso profundo. Applaud their performance. Repeat. And then repeat again. And then repeat again.

The game that started it all: Put block on head. Tilt head so block falls off. Put block on someone else's head. Laugh with mad insanity when it falls off. Repeat. And then repeat again. And then repeat again.

It's official!

I just heard the beginning of summer!

Why I didn't go to the gym today

5:00 Wake up.

5:25 Realize that the clock had not, in fact, read 6:00 like I'd thought. But now I'm showered. And dressed.

5:45 Might as well have breakfast.

6:10 Might as well go to work.

6:30 Grade the quizzes I was supposed to grade this weekend, but didn't because my geek squad WENT TO THE STATE CHAMPIONSHIP AND TOTALLY WON AND IT ROCKED.

7:00 Students! Hi! You are all very loud! And I have not had my coffee yet! I swear, I'll be right back!

7:05 Get hung up on the office as everyone wants to congratulate me on my geek squad WHO ARE NOW CERTIFIABLY THE BEST IN THE STATE AND PROBABLY THE BEST IN THE NORTHWEST AND PERHAPS THE BEST IN THE COUNTRY THEY ROCK THAT HARD.

7:20 Get back to my classroom just as zero period starts. I have ten students in asking for help.

7:50 Zero period over before I ever found anything even slightly resembling a groove. A grooveless, groove-free, nongrooving zero period.

7:55 My prep period starts in which I need to (a) finish grading quizzes (b) plan for the class where I'm to be observed by the principal (c) write a test (d) write some review sheets and (e) something else, and it must have been what I did because I certainly didn't do (a) through (d), but I'll be damned if I can remember what I did.

8:55 Stats class. Three people--THREE--have done their homework. Put off test one day. In the last three minutes of class, get a call from a local newspaper about my geek squad WINNING FIRST PLACE IN THE ENTIRE STATE BECAUSE THEY ROCK THE HARDEST. I ask if I can email her more details later, but I'm teaching class right now.

9:50 Oh, Hi, Principal M! Yeah, I'm totally prepared to teach this class (what was (b) in my prep? shit shit shit! it's not, like, totally obvious I am faking my way through this class and am, in fact, completely pitted out right now, is it? shit shit shit!)

10:35 Can forty five minutes go more slowly?

10:40 Class over. Thank you sweet jesus for not actually stopping time, even though, I have to admit, it totally and completely felt like it, but I'm not holding grudges, baby jesus, I swear I'm not.

10:45 Give the same lesson plan another go. Equally shitty. Crap. Can't blame the principal's presence on the shitfest that was 3rd period.

11:25 In the last ten minutes of class, get a call from newspaper two because my geek squad IS THE BEST IN THE STATE AT THE STATE CHAMPIONSHIPS THAT THEY TOTALLY WON BECAUSE OF THE EXCESS OF ROCKING THAT HAPPENED. Get the students together? For a picture? No problem! Yeah, just send your photographer down! Yeah, absolutely! Well, lunch is in ten minutes, and it lasts half an hour, so send him down in, what, say forty five minutes? Yeah, noon, noon-fifteen. That'd be great!

11:35. Lunch. Shit shit shit. Email due to newspaper one. What does she want? Totally forgot and can't read my message to myself. Get as detailed as possible, she can cut what she wants. And then, newspaper two! What do I have to do to get permission for photographers to, y'know, photograph the students? Where are they? How do I get them here? Oh! Trophies! Where are the trophies? Gotta get the trophies. And how do I get permission? And someone's gotta be in my fifth period class while I'm... hey, can you cover my fifth? Great! AND WHAT DO YOU MEAN MY CO-ADVISOR HAS A SUB TODAY??? AHHHHHH! And I have to find some food. Food. Where can I... right, lunchroom, cafeteria, buy a sandwich and some Sun Chips. Put sandwich on my desk I'll... get to it. Soon. CRAP--that's the bell? Lunch is over?

11:15--thanks for covering my fifth period. This'll be, like, five minutes.

11:20 Nah, you should just take a picture of the kids, they're great, they did all the work (plus, have you NOTICED this giant zit in the middle between my nose and upper lip? I mean, it's a totally bi-colored pulsing MONSTROSITY! No WAY am I committing that to photgraphic record!), 'kay, great you guys are... no? not done? Oh, no problem at all...

11:45 Shit shit shit shit! Sorry that took so long I TOTALLY owe you a covered first period free gratis anytime kthxbieee! Okay, kids, buckle your seatbeltS, we're about to do fifty minutes worth of proofs in twenty! Wheeee! Cuz this lesson didn't suck hard enough the first two times I did it today, it has to suck balls even worse! AWESOME!

1:10 Oh, hi sixth period. So, yeah, what were we doing today? Right. Review. I. Um. Do you mind if I eat my sandwich first?

2:00 Thank God end of school day. Oh, hi... you... right. Wanted to take your test today because you're leaving for China tomorrow. Huh. Right, that test that I... no, I totally have it written I just haven't... oh, you have something else to do first? Yeah, fine, do that, I'll have the test for you at 2:30. Shit shit shit shit shit.

2:10 Newspaper number three. I... they were great. It's all just... can I call you back? Because I just might die soon.

2:30 No, yeah, kiddo, I totally have the test for you. Here, why don't you start the free response while I finish... proofreading the multiple choice.

3:00 See? Here's the multiple choice, totally typo free!

3:03 Ha! Ha ha ha! Isn't it funny? See where it says "confidencer"? Hee! That should so say "confidence"!

3:06 Ha! Ha ha ha. Um. That place where it says "pyrothesis"? Yeah, I don't even know what that means. I think it is supposed to say "hypothesis."

3:10 Ha. Ha. Crap. Number 5, where it says "now" that really should say "not". Yeah, it really does change the meaning of the question, doesn't it?

3:12 Ah, hell, don't even bother to answer #7. I don't even know what I was trying to say.

4:00 Holy hell, how is it four already?

5:00 Sweet she-gods of Jerusalem, it's five? I.... have to leave. I... what the hell? When did that happen? Baby jesus, are you trying to mess with time again?

5:45 Hi hon, I'm home! How was my... ? What? DAMMIT. No, I didn't go to the dentist. Yes, I forgot completely about it. No, I know exactly where I was at four. Yes, I'll reschedule. No, I don't have the other doctor's phone number, and No, I didn't call her, and Yes, you can call and make an appointment all you want.

6:45 Ahhhhh, Screw Kappa Napa, have I ever told you how very very very much I love you?

It's a little thing, but it's not.

I've started working out again. It's nice. It's a time when I can go absolutely zen brainless listening to music and reading crap magazines and still feel virtuous! It's win-win-win! Plus I've lost four pounds already! I haven't weighed myself since that four-pound weightloss weigh-in, just in case that was a water weight fluke. In fact, I'm focusing on that. Four pounds! Lost! Which means, actually, I can now fit into my Real People clothes as long as I don't breathe. That also means I only have twenty pounds to go before I'm at my weight last summer. Which wasn't ideal, but it also wasn't No You'll Never See Me In a Swimsuit Ever Fuck Off bad, so that's a plus. No pun intended.

Almost two years ago, I was on an exercise kick because I'd gained back some of the weight I'd lost for my wedding (ha! I was twenty-five pounds lighter then! ha!) and I saw this gym had a buy-three-years-membership-now-save-a-ton! deal. So I did. And, in fact, promptly stopped going because I got a job that was leaving me exhausted at 3:30. So, thumbs up, Kari! Well done!

Fortunately, I'd also bought the go-to-all-the-gyms-in-the-area pass, because the gym nearest me is in the corner of a dying mall. Well, the middle part of the mall is dying. Either end of the mall is anchored by a Target and a Home Depot, so no matter which end I went in, I was screwed.

Wait, that sounds dirty.

What I meant was, it was costing me more because I'd just take a little trip through Target and find a t-shirt! That was only $6.99! So I should just buy four! about once a week. Not good.

But then the walk from Target to the gym was through an echoy mall with empty storefronts. In fact, the only store still there is Claire's, and I can't figure out how they're selling enough $4.99 earring sets to stay open, but open they stay. It was depressing. The people at the gym were not very friendly. And I had a trainer that I had to avoid because part of my membership "deal" was that I got to see a trainer free five times. I went those five times before I stopped going, but Rick (Steve? Tom? Whatever his name was) would still call me. He even sent me a Christmas card. I did not make that up for comedic effect. Anyway, I didn't want to explain to him that I wasn't going to pay for more sessions with him because frankly, I was too tired to go to the gym at all and have him guilt me about going to the gym and what all, so I thought it best if I just never saw him again. It was a little like breaking up with a boy. In eighth grade.

Now I'm going to the shiny new gym that's not so near my house but is near a Trader Joe's. I justify replacing my Target shopping with the TJ shopping because hey! organic! Plus: this gym is much nicer. The people-watching is much prettier. In fact, I bring the prettiness average down quite a few notches as I sweat and grunt my way through my workout. I am not a pretty sweater. Meaning sweating person, not the knitted or woven garment. I get all red and flushed and my skin gets all patchy and teenage acne looking. But hell, it's not like I'm going there in order to look glam. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Anyway, I went today, and then went to TJ's and basically I feel that no matter what, if I do nothing else today (oh! and we cleaned almost our entire house this morning, like with mops and stuff! so there's that too!), I was still virtuous and so can consider this day a Win.

And, as a final act--the cherry on top, if you will...

My day:

Underwear up ass: four hours of class time, where picking ass is discouraged. Two cumulative hours of driving time, where space is too confined for ass picking. Finally reach around to pick ass in Fred Meyer Parking Lot (through a denim skirt, which is no mean feat, let me tell you), only to turn around and find a two-year-old watching me. With her finger up her nose.

Exposed: Fly down. Three. Separate. Times. Each time, I realize it while standing in front of twenty or more teenagers. Fucking denim skirt.

Ass: so big it knocked over loud items twice in class without my intention (just to clear that up, because sometimes my ass knocks over loud items with my intentions) in front of teenage audience (who are oh-so-forgiving, haven't you noticed?). Once, a metal bucket full of writing utensils. Once, a large stack of paper. Um, very large. And now, no longer stacked.

My karma: really, I need to be humiliated on top of everything? In front of other people? This week, it hasn't slapped silly enough to know I'm its bitch? Seriously?

Blindsided.

I'm on autopilot right now at school, going through the motions. I figure if I go through the motions long enough, they'll be interesting again soon. Or eventually, one of the two.

Except today, as I'm going through the lessons in the book in the most old-fashioned of ways (lecture lecture lecture!) I hadn't read ahead because I'm basically working on a minute by minute basis right now. And then I get to the meat of today's statistics lessons.

We're teaching sampling methods and margin of error. By estimating the average age of women when they first give birth.

Awesome.

If you're interested, by the by, a 95% confidence interval puts the average age between 20.38 and 24.22 years of age. I'm not even an outlier.

Silver Lining, part 3

We can put off buying that 2nd car. Yes, we can, Andrew. No, really. I know. But just think! That's at least a year of no car payments or extra insurance payments!

Silver Lining, part 2

I don't have to hear, "Oh, your mom must be so excited--she's wanted grandchildren for so long, and now she's going to have two in one year!" again. Because that was always awesome to hear.

Silver Lining

I haven't gone skiing in Oregon yet, since we moved here four years ago. We meant to go this winter, but... well, there were those two and a half months where it would have been a bad idea.

We're going to go skiing this weekend.

Yay, skiing!

American Idol as a math problem.

"She's going to get on."

"That was just a few notes!"

"I know, but you can tell."

"Ehhh... she's not that good."

"Yeah, but she's good enough for the size of her tits. She'll get on. It's talent times tits. As long as one is big and the other isn't zero, they'll get on."

Things I did today instead of the work I needed to do

1. Got a mani/pedi
2. Went grocery shopping
3. Went shopping for a baby shower. That's in March.
4. Made a Chicken Apricot Tangine for dinner (it'll be done in an hour, yum!)
5. Spent at least three hours surfing teh internets
6. Reorganized the linen closet
7. Rearranged the living room. Um, surprise, hon! I rearranged the living room!

Reasons my school needs to stop calling a snow day

1. It's crazy easy to drive right now. I mean, seriously, people.

2. Andrew has a cold that he keeps telling me about. Or maybe he's just "getting" sick. But he keeps telling me about it. And clearing his throat loudly and mucously. And by the way, he's getting sick?

3. I'm running out of free-day crap to do, and soon I'm going to start doing things like clean the basement.

4. Have I mentioned that Andrew's got cold? Because he has. Once or twice.