I'm outta here.

Both my editors have given me the day off tomorrow, which means my Christmas vacation starts a day early. Sweet. I will definitely be putting the day to good use sleeping. Actually, my brother and sister-in-law are coming in tomorrow morning, so I won't be doing much sleeping at all. We went to my husband's Christmas party last night and it was very nice. The only bad part was that I couldn't over-indulge in the open bar because I have to work today. Boo hoo. One of our friends has just started working for the credit union and was also at the party last night, so I told her I'd be Paris Hilton and she'd be Nicole Richie and we should just periodically strike a pose to see if anyone noticed. No one did, but it was fun working it, anyway. We had beef wellington, but I think they left out the pate. Not that I'm complaining. I'm not a liver person. The meal was good. Anyway, I'm outie while the university is closed so Merry Christmas, Happy Chanukah, Happy Kwanzaa, Merry Winter Solstice. Whatever the heck you celebrate, I hope it's a good one.

Christmas frustration vent

That's all I have to say today.

The Boob Squisher From Planet 9

Had my first mammogram today. It was interesting in a very uninteresting sort of way. Now I know what the inside of my boobs look like, so that's cool. It wasn't painful or anything and they take the picture so quickly that you don't even have to have your tit tortured for too long. All in all, not that horrific of an experience. I was, however, the youngest woman in the waiting room. That was an interesting experience. The cover-up they gave me had more strings than could actually be used to tie up the entire thing, so I don't know what that was about. But all the women were walking around with loose strings hanging down out of their tops, so I figured I wasn't the only one who was confused. After the tech finished taking my x-rays, I asked if this is how they look for testicular cancer and she said no, unfortunately. Although, she said there were several men she'd like to get crammed into the machine. We laughed because your boob gets squashed pretty darn flat in that thing. If you did the same thing with men, I'm sure it would make their balls pop like grapes. That would be funny.

Holy karaoke, Batman!

OK, I'm gonna fess up that I didn't have time to do one of my normal karaoke recordings, so I had to do something from the hip, here. The sound quality suffers as a result, but there's not much I can do about that with my limited resources. Sorry. You'll just have to deal. Anyway, this is one of my favorite Christmas songs, so here are me and my home girl Tracy Chapman singing O Holy Night.

Last night my daughter was invited to participate in the leadership program at her taekwondo school, and she's pretty much thinking she's it on a stick right now. I'm pretty proud of her and think she's worked hard to earn the invitation, but I have to wonder how much of the decision-making process on the part of the instructor relates to the desire to make more money. I'm just starting to get the feeling this entire karate thing is more about making money than actually teaching the kids martial arts. I'm just saying, is all. Last night, one of the fathers came in drunk. It was really impressive, as I'm sure you can guess. I don't think the instructor realized it, but I'm going to tell him tonight just because they need to be aware of the problem if something arises. I feel like a bit of a stool pigeon, but that's just unacceptable. You don't come into your kid's karate lesson pissed on too much beer. That's just straight out of the Joan Crawford School of Parenting.

And just because I know my karaoke talents are not enough to satisfy your voracious appetite, here's an early Christmas present for you. Bask in the love, here.


Because I love you, girl.

Woman on the edge.

That's me. I'm pulled so taut right now, I don't think it would take much to make me snap. I actually daydream about some guy making inappropriate advances on me in the elevator so I can have a reason to go off on someone just to release a little of the pressure. However, since the majority of men I encounter in elevators are meek professor types, it doesn't seem as if I'll be able to let loose on some unsuspecting perv. I'm a time bomb, folks. A time bomb. Why does Christmas do this to people? I can remember when I was a kid and it seemed like Christmas came so slowly and it didn't seem possible that I could survive the wait. Now, it comes so quickly I feel like the Christmas season needs to be at least two months long to get everything done. I haven't even sent my cards out yet because I haven't had time to finish addressing envelopes. I know these are petty problems compared to the people who have no family, no food or no home. But they're my headaches so they seem major to me.

My daughter's Christmas concert was last night and she did a great job, I think. All the kids did a great job. Why is it so funny listening to kids sing? It is, though. You've got the kids who are putting their all into the performance like they're Mariah. It's great. One girl scared people in the audience beause she came in so loudly on her cue. People actually jumped in their seats. It was hilarious. Kids are funny. Anyway, that's all I have time for today. Keep on keeping on, as they say.

Oh, here's a picture of my brother, sister and me from our mother's birthday party this past weekend. Don't we look happy? Not frazzled, at all. If only it were real. If only we weren't crying behind the smiles.

Hi-ya!

My daughter, who started taking taekwondo a few weeks ago, earned her orange belt last night. Although, it should probably be "earned" her orange belt last night. Apparently, you get the orange belt for learning how to take karate class and that's about it. The instructor helped her through most of her moves, but she didn't seem to mind. She was pretty psyched about everything last night, so we took her to Bob Evans afterward to celebrate. From here on out, though, earning new belts is more dependent upon actually learning moves and improving behavior and staying focused. I'm kind of interested in taking the taekwondo classes, myself. I've always wanted to take martial arts, but never got around to it. Since the kid's in class, it seems like a good time. I'm going to wait until spring, though, after we pay our tax bill. We had to pay $500 for our daughter's classes, so I'll have to wait a bit before I drop another five C-notes for myself. She started learning jump kicks last night and my husband said he wanted to give it a try. That made me laugh because the last time he tried something that youthful, he broke his ass. Literally.

Whew.

Back from Chicago. The party went over well. My brother, sister and I got a cruise for my mom's birthday present. She and my dad will be visiting the eastern Carribean in Februray aboard Celebrity Cruises. Apparently, my mother really didn't know that was going to be her gift, but you can never really know with my mother. She's like the CIA. My father has known about the cruise for quite some time because he had to arrange for his vacation time. Anyway, I hope they have a good time. It's the first time either one will be on a cruise.

I'm pretty wiped out right now and I cannot wait for Christmas vacation to start. The university closes from Christmas to New Year's and I am really feeling the burn this year. I really need a break. We are hosting an open house on Saturday so I've got to spend this week cleaning. Then my parents and brother and sister-in-law come here next week, which means I have to do major, major cleaning. My mom notices every single unclean thing and will proceed to clean it herself when she discovers it. It's annoying but the only way to avoid it is to make sure there's nothing for her to clean. I am talking about things like the stove and the refridgerator. She'll do the laundry if she sees it. Stuff like that. Anyway, I'll talk later. I've got stuff to do right now.

Winter Wonderland

I hate walking in a Winter Wonderland, but that's what we've got outside today. We were hit pretty good with the snow over the evening. My husband went out early and cleared out the driveway and everything. It took him an hour and a half. There's a lot of snow out there. We'll be heading to Chicago this weekend, so I hope the snow's pretty much been cleared away by the time we hit the road. Once, when we drove to spend Christmas with my sister when she lived in Madison (which is about four hours from South Bend), we ended up being in the car for 12 hours because of a snowstorm that chose that evening to blow through the area. The more incredible thing about that story is that we actually ended up passing my parents who where driving from DC that night. It's a good thing, too, because my dad ended up having a flat when we were almost to my sister's house and I hate to think how long they would have been out there on their own. But between my brother, husband and dad, they were able to get the tired changed relatively quickly.

The present that wasn't.

When I got home yesterday, I found two boxes sitting on my porch. One box was stuff we ordered from Playmobil for our daugther's Christmas present and the other box was a deluxe BBQ crockpot. When I first saw the crockpot I thought that maybe it was my husband's Christmas present from the credit union where he works. But when I looked at it, I saw that it was addressed to me, which was surprising because I hadn't ordered a crockpot. So, of course, I assumed someoene else had ordered a crockpot for me because so many people love me I am frequently surprised with gifts of crockpots and other useful appliances. Anyway, when I opened the box the shipping slip said that the crockpot was supposed to be sent to some guy in Tennessee. I was immediately deflated to learn the crockpot was not a present for me. Nobody at all had tried to send me a crockpot. How this crockpot came to me is a mystery. I callled Bed, Bath & Beyond (which is from where the crockpot was sent) and told them I got a crockpot not meant for me. The B,B&B people couldn't figure out how I received the crockpot either. Anyway, long story short, I asked them if I was supposed to receive some other gift from someone else and if that was the reason why the crockpot was mislabeled. The B,B&B lady said that there wasn't another order that was supposed to be sent to me in the computer system. So I was doubly deflated to learn that there was no present at all coming my way. Nobody was trying to send me a crockpot. Nobody. It's a nice crockpot, too. It looks like you can do pit pork or pit beef or pit chicken in it. That would be a nice crockpot to have. So, I slapped the return label on the crockpot, and B,B&B is sending UPS to my house to pick up the box. Oh well, it was nice for awhile to think someone out there was trying to surprise me with the crockpot of my dreams.

Here is the crockpot not meant for me.



Just look at those succulent ribs. Those could've been mine.

My favorite thing in the world.

Not. Today I have my yearly woman's exam, which is one of the necessary evils we women must endure. I hate my yearly woman's exam, and I don't think I've ever met a woman who does enjoy them. Frankly, I'd be worried about the woman who did enjoy having a metal torture device shoved up her cootch, only to have it mechanically opened so someone can swab out the insides with an oversized Q-Tip. Not pleasant. The worst part is your dripping KY-Jelly for the rest of day. That's was really sucks. Sometimes they do get a little over-zealous with the KY-Jelly use. Once, when I was in college, the nurse practitioner had used so much KY-Jelly that as soon as I got up to start getting dressed, all the jelly just started spilling out and down my leg. The worst part of that was that as it came out it made fart-like noises. So I'm standing there having to talk to the nurse while the tinkling of vagina farts fills the office with their sweet sounds. Seriously, that was one of the most embarrassing days of my life.

The big 6-0.

This weekend my family is heading to Chicago to celebrate my mother's 60th birthday. The 60th birthday is a big celebration in Korean culture, probably because everyone was amazed that a person could live to 60 in the old days. Anyway, most of my mother's family lives in Chicago, which is why the party will be there. The party is always thrown by the children; however, since I am the closest geographically to the Windy City, I've bascially taken care of all the arrangements. My mother has been complaining to my father about why he let us throw the party. She's doing her false Korean modesty bit, but we all know there's no way in hell we could have actually not thrown her a party. Not that we mind, anyway. But it's just one of those things we have to deal with. When we planned our father's party four years ago, my mother gave me such a hard time about it I decided when it was her turn, I was just going to arrange the party and only bother to tell her when she and my dad should show up, and that's pretty much what I've done. I didn't ask her where she wanted it. I didn't ask her when she wanted it. I didn't ask her if she wanted it. And the entire process has gone pretty smoothly as a result. I have to say that I'm giving myself major props on this one.

It's Monday. Blech! I'm taking the easy way out today.

It's Monday and I wish it wasn't because I want to sleep. I'm getting another cold sore, which is probably why I am so tired. Luckily, my sexy American girlfriend took some pictures this past weekend when she came over to babysit my daughter, and that gives me something to post today. My husband and I actually went out twice this weekend, which is really quite amazing. Anyway, since I rarely wear make-up, I figured I'd put up a picture to celebrate the rare occassion of my gussing up.

This is a picture of my husband and me right before we went to a charity dinner Saturday night. It was an auction to support an organization called Hannah's House which houses expectant and new mothers and their children until they can get on their feet. It was okay. The best part for me was when my husband's boss bought all the ladies at our table a grab bag and I ended up with the best prize--the complete fifth season of Good Times on DVD. Everyone was jealous of me.



Ths is a picture of my daughter with her chinchilla. The chinchilla's name is Fuzzy.



Oh, we bought one of those blow-up Christmas lawn decoration things this weekend. It's a penguin sitting on top of an igloo. My daughter thought it was cute. She spent a lot of time last night commenting on how we are the only family on our block to have one. It's the small things that make her feel special.

Here's our penguin.

I will karaoke.

Some things are just meant to go together: peanut butter and jelly, steak and eggs, Lewis and Martin. In that vein, nothing goes together better than karaoke and disco. There's just something about the bright lights and thumping tunes that make the two better than they would ever be on their own. Let's think about it. What is the quintessential disco song of all time? I Will Survive, of course, which also is eerily the quintessential karaoke song of all time. Disco and karaoke, disco and karaoke--a classic combination. So step back Deney Terrio, here I am singing I Will Survive. And for all you haters out there, suck my ass. Suck it until the grit gets caught in your teeth, you bastards.

You're a god.

The only reason that's my post title is because that's the song I'm listening to right now. Went to a reading last night for a past MFAer here at Notre Dame. He came to read a bit from his book and share some new stuff. It was alright. His name is Kevin Ducey and he's a good guy. I keep telling him he has to make reference to the Borg in one of his poems, though, because of the time we saw a rather large woman wearing a Borg t-shirt at the AWP bookfair a couple of years ago. He still hasn't. He said he's currently working on a project about Simone Weil. He says he's interested in transformation. I said that's the perfect platform for the Borg mention. Borg are all about transformation and metamorphosis. He laughed. Now we'll see if he has the guts to go through with it. After the reading, I stopped by the university bookstore to look for something new for my daughter. We just finished the Spiderwick Chronicles and she's devastated that there are no more books. She's already mentioned that she doesn't know what she'll do when the last Harry Potter comes out. Personally, I am really curious to know what J.K. Rowling will start writing once she's done with Harry Potter. It's snowing outside. It bums me out because I can only think about the hassle of cleaning off my car. I hate snow.

Forgive me, Father.

My daughter has her first confession next week. I think she's nervous. It's going to be a family reconciliation mass, so we all get to go to confession. Sweet. That's sarcasm, by the way. However, because we will all be saying the Act of Contrition before going into confession, I won't have to worry about remembering/ forgetting it in front of the priest, which is basically where all my anxiety lies in going to confession. I don't go to confession often. In fact, I can't tell you the last time I went to confession. It doesn't really bother me to bare my soul to the priest, but I feel like a fraud in some ways. I feel sorry for my sins because I'm supposed to but not because I really, really, personally feel sorry for my sins. I know when I'm doing something that's not nice or good before I do it. I've already had the opportunity to change my behavior before the fact and I've chosen to do the "wrong" thing, regardless. So to go in after the fact and confess seems two-faced to me. Plus God knows what the real deal is. The priest doesn't. Am I really forgiven? I don't know. However, I am going to go to a priest that's not assigned to our church. The priests I see every week don't need to know my business.

Of dead spiders and pinkies.

There was a big grey spider crawling on one of my computer wires so I rolled up a galley and smashed it. I don't know if I killed it, though, because there was grey smudge on the back of the galley, but no spider anywhere. I couldn't find its body anywhere. I hope it doesn't surprise me by climbing up my leg or something. I hate spiders. We were at the pet store last night picking up a pinkie to feed to the kid's snake and they had these huge birdeating spiders there. Ugh. It creeps me out just to think about it because, really, they were HUGE. Spiders aren't supposed to be that big. That's all there is to it. They had something interesting at the pet store I've never seen before, however. It's a degu, which looks like this:


It's from South America and is part of the squirrel family. At least that's what the very large boy at the store told us last night. Anyway, my daughter got one look at it and had to investigate. The thing I really love about my daughter whenever we go to this pet store to buy the pinkie every week is that she always says, "I'm going to go check out the mammals, Mom," while I'm waiting at the counter. I find it hilarious. Anyway, this degu looked kind of like a gopher to me. It was cute and everything and my daughter was trying to get me to pet it. But I said no. I knew she was trying to sucker me into buying it. I was strong, though. I resisted. Anyway, I'd already told her that she's not getting anything new until Christmas, so that was that.

Oh, and you'll be happy to know we took the pinkie home and the snake ate it.

I'm never going to eat again.

I ate a lot this weekend. I ate a whole lot this weekend. I ate a whole lot of junk this weekend. I'm never going to eat again. Well, that's a lie because I have eaten, but you get what I'm talking about. Why do we feel compelled to overeat at Thanksgiving? It's because there's too much food, obviously. I didn't cook this Thanksgiving because we went to our friends' house, but I still managed to eat too much. It was all good, though. After we'd all eaten, we sat on the floor and looked at the sales flyers for the next day. Wal-Mart opened at 5 a.m. to kick-off their sale and I asked, "Who gets up at five in the morning to go shopping?" And then my friend answered, "Ooooh, I can't wait. I've been really excited for the sales to start." I said that's why they have such good deals that early in the morning because it's the crazy person sale. They figure anyone crazy enough to get up that early deserves to get their merchandise for practically free. Anyway, I did go out and do my bit the day after Thanksgiving, however, I didn't leave the house until 1:00 in the afternoon and it was to get a dress for my daughter to wear to her Christmas concert. What's interesting about my daughter now is that she is beginning to develop very definite opinions about what type of clothes she will be wearing. She pretty much picked out the dress we bought, even though it's two sizes too big, it was the only one left and she had to have it because none of the other dresses were "her style." Luckily, the dress is intended to be ashort, empire waist dress, so it looks natural enough one her because the waist is actually at her waist and the bottom of the dress comes down to her knees. I do have to hem up the sleeves, but that's not too big a deal. Oh, I bought her shoes, too. And pajamas. But that was it. We only went to two stores--Kohl's and Target. So I was civilized and all.

Karaoke gobble.

Even though I won't be posting for the next four days, you didn't think I was going to leave you hanging with no new song, did you? Today, I have the great pleasure of bringing you the soothing sounds of my daughter's Christmas concert solo, which will be performed next month. She's been practicing awfully hard and I think you should all feel honored that she's giving you this sneak peek. So here is my daughter singing whatever Christmas song she's singing.

Happy early Thanksgiving, you turkeys.

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, so I hope all of you get nice and stuffed...with food. My family will be enjoying the day at our friends' house. I'm going to make this brussel sprout recipe I got from my sister where you saute shallots in butter and then saute in lightly steamed brussel sprouts. Then you let the stuff simmer in cream and white wine for a little bit before spreading gruyere cheese all over the whole mess and then baking it for an hour. It is goooooooooooooood! Take my word on it. Anyway, have a great day and travel safely.

Well, I tried.

Sunday, we bought a pinkie to feed to my daughter's snake, as we do just about every Sunday or Monday or Tuesday. Basically, whenever we can get to the pet store to pick up the pinkie. Anyway, we bought the pinkie on Sunday and threw it into the feeding tank with the snake and it decides he's not going to eat the mouse. I don't know why. It had been a week since he'd eaten last, so he should have been hungry. We left him in with the mouse about an hour or so, but he didn't touch it. So we put the snake back in his tank and I kept the pinkie in the feeding tank, thinking maybe I'll try to tomorrow if it's still alive when we get up. I threw in some bedding just to help keep it warm during the night. When we woke up Monday, the pinkie was still alive, so I put the snake in with it to see if anything would happen and nothing. I tried feeding the snake again after I got home yesterday, but he still wouldn't take it. Meanwhile, my husband is saying he's just going to flush the mouse down the toilet and I'm like, "No, I paid money for that thing. The snake is going to eat it." However, I realized we didn't have a lot of time on our hands before the pinkie expired, so I thought maybe I can keep this thing alive until the snake decides to eat it. So I warmed up a little cream and tried feeding the pinkie with a medicine dispenser. I think I got it to drink some of it. I fed it again before I went to sleep and covered it with bedding and everything, but when I woke up this morning, it was dead. So now I have to go and buy another pinkie to try and feed the snake. But I think I'll wait until this weekend to make sure he's nice and hungry. I'm not wasting anymore money.

I've offically crossed the line.

This past weekend I did something I never thought I'd be crazy/stupid enough to do--I got up at 5:30 a.m. to go to a sale that started at 7:00 a.m. What about this sale was inticing enough to get me up at the butt-crack of dawn on a Saturday? Well, the flyer said they would be selling the Sharper Image Ionic Breeze for $150, plus with the 15% coupon that was in the flyer, it would be even cheaper. I've wanted a Sharper Image Ionic Breeze for about as long as there has been a Sharper Image Ionic Breeze. These things cost about $350. That's a little steep for my blood, but I've never let go of the dream that one day the Ionic Breeze would be mine. Anyway, I get up, get showered, drink my coffe when I realize that the sale is probably for the small Sharper Image Ionic Breeze because that is just too good a deal. I looked at the flyer and there's no mention of size, of course, because they probably know most people want the big size and aren't going to schlep to the store at 7:00 a.m. if they know it's just the small one. So I say to my husband, "I bet you that's going to be the small Ionic Breeze." He says, "You're probably right." So there I am thinking, damn, I got up and that's probably not what I want, but I'm up, I can't take the chance of it being the full-sized one and letting this opportunity pass, so I finish my coffee and walk out the door.

I pulled into the store parking lot and there's a line outside the door. I'm thinking, "Holy crap! Why are all these people here so early?" One of the reasons I got up so early was because I didn't want to deal with a lot of people. As I've gotten older, I really hate shopping when there are too many people around because this sort of Lord of the Flies thing starts to happen when there are too many people crammed into a finite space looking for deals. People lose their freaking minds. They dive for stuff like they're diabetics grabbing for the last vial of insulin on the planet. So anyway, I get out of the car and stand in line and ask the lady in front of me if the store is opened yet and she says, "No." I didn't have to wait long, though, because I pulled in at about five after 7:00. They open the doors and as we're all shuffling in, we're handed a little scratch card that apparently will reveal an additional savings amount of either $10, $15 or $25. I hear a girl on a cellphone telling someone, "We're one of the first 500, so I got a card." I didn't know anything about this first 500 business and I can't believe that all these people came so early just to get the scratch card because you know everyone's going to get a card for $10 because there's only one card for $15 and one card for $25. The store is not trying to give away money. So I go and find the Ionic Breeze and surprise, surpise, it's the small one. They've got couple of the large ones and I drag it over to a cashier and ask if the large one is on sale, too, because it's got a price tag of $350 on it. She scans it and my 15% coupon and my $10 scratch card and says that neither one took, so it's not on sale. I really expected it, but I'm crushed nonetheless. The cashier asks if I want to buy it and I say, "No. It's not on sale. Why would I buy it?" So I went and bought a couple of Christmas gifts and a pair of boots and gauchos for myself to wear to a benefit dinner I have to go to with my husband in a couple of weeks. I also got my husband a few shirts and ties for work and some some shirts and a pair of jeans for my daughter. In the end I spent something like $300, which would have pretty much been the Ionic Breeze anyway, but it was about the principle, man.

Oh, we also went to watch Goblet of Fire Friday night and left in about the last half hour because our daughter got freaked out. She's very familiar with the book because she's listened to it about 50 times, but I also knew that it might be too intense for her because of the PG-13 rating. We told her that this movie was probably going to be scarier than the other movies and even though she knew the story, she should let us know if she was getting too scared and we'd leave. So right as all the champions enter the maze she turns to us and says, "I want to leave." So we did. Kind of a bummer, but we know what happens and the DVD will be out soon enough. My daughter said in the car that she thinks she won't be so scared when she watches the DVD because the picture is smaller and the sound isn't so loud. However, up until the point we left, I thought they did a pretty good job with this one. I was really disappointed with Prisoner of Azkaban because I felt it was really choppy and that they left some really important information out. I was skeptical about the success they'd have with Goblet of Fire because it's an even longer book and they were still going to try and fit it all into two and a half hours. I really thought they should do a Matrix sort of thing and make it a long movie released in two parts. But, considering the limitations, I thought they did a good job. I wish they would have shown at least a little of the quidditch world cup game. Maybe they'll have some of that on the DVD.

Let's get karaoke!

When I was a girl, I really liked Olivia Newton-John. She was so cute in Grease and I wanted to be a muse after watching Xanadu five hundred million times. This is not an exaggeration. When I was in the sixth grade--which was about 1981 or so--my parents bought our first VCR. This is while we were living in Germany. They also bought two movies for us to watch on the VCR: Flash Gordon and Xanadu. I kid you not, my brother, sister and I watched Flash Gordon and Xanadu after school everyday for about two years. My sister and I recorded the songs off Xanadu by holding a tape recorder up to the television speaker so we could listen to the music anytime we wanted. I used to draw pictures of the muses. I really wanted to be Olivia Newton-John. All of this was before the time of Remington Steele, however, when I then became obsessed with Stephanie Zimbalist as Det. Laura Holt, and then wanted to be her. Not Stephanie Zimbalist, though. I wanted to be Laura Holt. Anyway, back to Olivia. Let's just say, I used to like her a lot. So here I am singing Physical.

Must sleep. Eyes drooping.

I am freaking TIRED today. I didn't get much slepp because I took a nap for a couple of hours before I had to go to this reading at a local coffee shop and then when I got home, I took my codeine and for some reason that kept me awake even more. I didn't go to sleep until about midnight or so. I wake up at 5:30, so I really, really want to sleep right now. It's snowing. AAARRGH!!! I hate snow. Whine, whine, whine. Of course, my husband hasn't raked the leaves yet, so those are now being covered by snow and slowly turnin into large ice mountains in our driveway and yard. Great. Love it when that happens. We're supposed to go to the game this Saturday. A friend of ours gave us her tickets at the last minute. It's supposed to snow this weekend. I really don't like going to football games when it snows because it basically sucks. My husband is really keen to go watch football in the snow because he has this completely warped idea that it's going to be fun. I've tried explaining to him that it's not fun. You sit there freezing your ass off, getting soaked as the falling snow hits you and melts into your clothes. Plus you're sitting on that cold metal bleacher seat. You know, that's how you get hemorroids? By sitting on cold surfaces. At least that's what my mother used to tell me when I was a teenager. I used to freak out if I had to sit on cold concrete because I was SURE I'd end up with huge polyps hanging out of my ass. Of course, my mother has told me the reason I have large nostrils is because I stretched them open by picking my nose all the time as a child. So maybe Mom's a little off on this one, too. The only time I've ever had hemorroids was after I had my daughter and that basically because you end up pushing out all your internal organs with the baby. Of course, that includes turning your rectum inside out in the process. It can't be helped, I've realized. I don't remember them lasting too long or giving me too much discomfort. Of course, I was so bothered by the itching from my episiotomy, that I don't think I'd noticed much of anything else. Which makes me want to point out that Britney Spears must be crazy for going out braless. Isn't she worried about her boobs leaking? I had to wear a nursing bra and pads for about a year after my daughter was born because of milk leakage. I even had to wear them to bed. The only assumption I can make is that Britney must not be breastfeeding the little tike.

Codeine is good.

I have found out over the past few days that codeine is amazingly easy to get addicted to. Not that I have, mind you, but I can definitely see how people get hooked on the stuff. I've been developing a chest cold over the last half-week or so and I started taking some of my leftover codeine cough syrup from a similar bout of phlegm-producing coughing a couple of months ago. Anyway, last time, I think I only took one teaspoon of the suggested one-two teaspoon dose. This time I figured, hey, let's kick it up and notch and I've been taking the two-teaspoon dose for the last couple of days. The first time I took it, I could feel it. I was high as a kite, as they like to say. Yeah, it was fun. Last night I took the two teaspoons before bed and while I got a little sleepy, no high. No goofy desire to spin around in the middle of the room a la Jodie Foster in Nell screaming, "Flyin in tha wiiiinn." Nothing, nada. Just sleepiness. So I started thinking, "Damn, how much would I have to take now to get that same giddiness as before?" I wasn't going to try, but it just made me realize that there's probably a lot of people who just go ahead and take more. I've developed that level of tolerance in only a couple of days. A couple of days. That's amazing to me. I also see why they don't give you refills on the stuff. However, I do believe my husband has a leftover bottle of his own codeine syrup lurking in the medicine cabinet. Hmmmm.

How I got my Blue Heron pen for free.

Here is my Blue Heron pen, which I got for free.
If you'd like to know how I got it for free, I'll tell you. This past weekend my family went to Frankenmuth, MI, which touts itself as Little Bavaria. It was an alright place, but kind of disappointing because it wasn't really a Little Bavaria; although, my husband did buy a cuckoo clock which he's apparently wanted his entire life, so at least he's been able to fulfill that dream. At any rate, Frankenmuth didn't really create a little snapshot of Germany because they didn't sell bratwurst on brotchen, I couldn't find a decent pair of lederhosen anywhere, and there was no gingerbread to be found. However, I did have the best egg noodles I've ever tasted at the Bavarian Inn Restaurant. So, while we're in Frankenmuth, we stop by the St. Julian winery store where they offer free samples and whatnot. My husband bought a bottle of brandy and I picked out a nice bottle of cherry wine which was really tasty. While we're checking out, the manager says something to the register boy about giving away the postcards to whoever wants them. I noticed there was also a selection of pens by the register and I said, "What about the pens? Are those free for the taking as well?" And the manager said, "Uh, no. But you can have one for a dollar." I said, "But I'd like one as a free souvenir." At that time, my husband asked the manager if they can ship to Indiana. While the manager was looking through the book I said, "Tell you what, ask me a question, any question, and if I get it right, you'll give me one of these pens for free." So he said, "OK, do we ship to Indiana?" And I said, "No." And he said, "Go ahead and pick out a pen." I did a little happy dance at the register and told the manager he was a cool cat. And that's how I got my free pen, which doesn't even write well, by the way. I would have been really pissed if I'd paid a buck for it.

In other news, my sexy American girlfriend has found a sexy Italian boy toy. Figures. Figures she'd turn her back on our love for a little peck and tickle from some buff, overly-athletic Casanova from Tuscany, to boot. How can I compete with Tuscany and the accent? I can't, dammit. I can't. Oh, the torment. Oh, the woe. What ever shall I do?

A karaoke by any other name...

The summer before my freshman year of high school, I attended a summer camp for the performing and visual arts. I was there for drama. Every year camp organizers ended the summer's activities with, what else, a talent show. While we all were required to perform some "class" project, we could also perform other solo or group efforts. A girl I new from middle school was there for piano and asked if I'd like to sing The Rose while she played the piano. I said sure. I always liked The Rose and thought singing for the talent show would be a nice diversion from the entire theatre thang. So I practised and sang for two weeks getting ready, but at the last minute she decided she didn't want to do it, so that was the end of my grand moment in the spotlight. Because, of course, I imagined everyone would reward me with a standing ovation. Our drama project was some improv on the Salem witch trials. I don't know how we came up with that one, but I don't remember it being particularly interesting. So here I am for my close-up Mr. DeMille, singing The Rose.

George, we hardly knew you.

George the parakeet is gone and Fred the parakeet has taken his place. I decided that George was too timid and shy and that he'd never make a good pet for our family, so we exchanged him last night for a more lively and curious bird. My husband had picked out George on his own and based his decision primarily on looks. However, after reading parakeet pages on the internet and leafing through the parakeet care book that my husband brought home, I came to the realization that George was just too frightened of life to ever feel cozy with the seven other living creatures using up air in our house. Plus, the little fucker clawed the hell out of my wrist and nearly bit my pinkie off when I tried to get him back into the cage after he managed a brief breakout.

While we were picking out the new parakeet last night my husband said he was sorry for doing a bad job of picking out the first bird. I said I was just surprised since my husband is an avid birdwatcher and has had birds as pets for many years of his life. He said he makes up for it though by having immediately recognized that Fred was a good-tempered bird. I said I recognized immediately that George was a bad-tempered bird with no experience with birds at all and my husband said what I immediately recognized was insubordination and that's what soured me to George. I don't know what he's trying to say by that.

Fred looks like this parakeet.




George looked like this parakeet.


















In my opinion, George was the prettier bird, but as we know, looks don't count for much. I also think Fred might actually be a girl because her cere is more brownish than blue, and that's apparently one way of distinguishing gender in the noble parakeet. Why does it not surprise me that the boy ended up being the pain in the ass?

My pants are really loud today.

The party's over.

I announced at my social life commission meeting that I want to step down as the committee chair person because I need a freaking break and a half. I've done it for two years and it's time for someone else to dot the i's and cross the t's. The only reason I originally agreed to do it is because my friend said we'd basically run it as co-chairs. I was really just agreeing to letting them use my name for figurehead purposes. Anyway, that friend quit the committee some months ago becase she was completely overwhelmed by the many responsibilities she has on her plate, and utterly underwhelmed by the level of support we were enjoying from the pastoral council and parish. There have only ever been a handful of us on the committee anyway, but there are really only two other members we can rely upon in a fairly consistent manner in terms of attending meetings and taking on responsibilities for planning our various social events. Even while my friend was still on the committee, it seemed like my life was dominated by church social life planning because most of the other members were very relaxed in their participation. I took care of thing because it needed to be done, but now I'd like to be one of the people who just shows up whenever I like and just stands around waiting to be told what to do. Actually, not really. I don't want to be chair person anymore, but I still plan on working on the committee. I'm just tired of having to keep track of everything. However, the thing that sort of broke the camel's back for me is that I happened to reschedule the meeting that should have taken place Monday to Tuesday because I'd forgotten about having the meeting on Monday and scheduled something else for that night. Anyway, one of the other people on the committee called me and complained that it wasn't right to change meeting dates since she had sent out an e-mail a couple of months ago with the schedule for all the meetings for the upcoming year and I said, "Well, I already sent the e-mail to everyone rescheduling so there's nothing to be done about it now." To which she replied, "We shouldn't do this."

I said, "If you still want to hold the meeting, go right ahead. I don't care, but I'm not going to be there because I didn't make arrangements for it."

Then she said, "No, that's fine. I won't be there tomorrow."

Fine, great, like it really makes a difference in the whole scheme of things. But I have to say I really resented the implication that I was somehow interfering with the group's progress by rescheduling, like I'd committed some grave sin. Anyway, that was the end of the line for me. I'm officially tired of running around like a chicken with my head cut off while others take a more leisurely approach. Someone else can worry about the details now. And that's all I really have to say about that.

In other news, it is girl scout cookie time again. The official sale begins today; although, I've sold a few boxes already. This morning my daughter informed me that I "have chosen the wrong path" by selling early. I tried to tell her I only sold boxes to people who have no other connection to girl scouts, but she wasn't impressed and it made me realize that my kid is smarter than I am. I'm proud of her for telling me I broke the rules. It gives me confidence in thinking she'll continue to do the right thing as she grows up and won't be easily swayed by the ne'er-do-wells (like me) floating around her.

Welcome to the zoo.

The zoo being my house, of course. I'm not quite sure how it happened, but yesterday morning we woke up with three pets in the house. However, by the time we went to bed yesterday evening, we had five pets in the house. In addition to the chinchilla, rabbit and snake, we now have a hamster named Smokey and a parakeet named George. It's kind of a blur, but I firmly blame the lazy workers at Meijers. We were at Meijers (which is a large department/grocery store here)and we were looking at the pets when I decided I just wanted to check out a hamster that looked particularly cute because my daughter was pining for a new hamster since Snoozer died. Anyway, I wasn't really thinking let's get a hamster but I wanted to check out the personality of the hamster we were looking at. Anyway, there was no one manning the pet department so I caught this one kid walking buy and told him I needed help. He said to pick up the red courtesy phone to get someone there, which I did. That phone rang like thirty times and no one bothered to pick up. So I walked over to where that same kid was leaning against a tower of boxes drinking a soda, talking to another kid stocking the dairy section.

"No one is picking up the phone," I said.

"Ah, man," he replied in an annoyed manner, "they're just being lazy. I'll go get someone."

I'm thinking as he walks away, I didn't see you doing anything to help me. I don't know how you could be calling someone else lazy. Anyway, after a couple of minutes he comes back and says he put in a call and someone should be there to help me. Well, I waited. I waited a long time. I waited so long I even picked up the red courtesy phone again just to see if that could speed things up a bit. It didn't. I saw that the keys for the animal cages were lying by the sink in the pet department and I asked my husband if he'd get upset if I opened the hamster cage myself. He said he didn't think that would be a good idea. So I searched down the boy that had been stocking the dairy section and grabbed him by the arm and led him back to the pet department and said, "I just need you to open the cage. I'd do it myself, but I don't want to get my husband all bothered."

So we get to the cages, he unlocks it and I get the hamster out and I told him he could leave the keys with me and I'd lock everything up again. He said OK. At this point, I was very annoyed and I was thinking, "I'm buying this damn hamster because I went to all this trouble to get it out of the cage." Anyway, as I locked up the cage and we started looking for a box to put the hamster in, the actual pet department boy comes running over saying, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, but they've got me running all over."

I said, "Well, I took care of the situation myself. I just need you to write the price on the box."

As we left, I walked up to a manager and said, "You know, I'd like a discount on this hamster because I basically did everything myself to get it. I waited a long, long time for assistance, but it never came so I took matters into my own hands. I'm thinking lets take two dollars off the cost." And she said OK, go right ahead. So I did. The hamster ended up costing $7.99. I'm thinking I should have asked for at least three dollars off, now.

My husband said if I get that hamster, he's getting a parakeet, which he did, and that's how we ended up with two more pets. Now I think I made a mistake getting that hamster.

In Memoriam

Bryce
Jan. 1991-November 2005
(rescued from Missoula Humane Society, Dec. 1991)



My sexy American girlfriend lost her poochy pal Bryce a couple of days ago. Of Bryce she says: "Bryce's name, when I got her, was Lady Belle. I came to understand that Bryce had spunk and personality in addition to the grace of a lady. She became my father's dog and would paw him in the car if he stopped for too long in any location. Bryce had part of her left ear chewed off by coyotes and whenever she heard them howling she went and hid under the bed. She had straitions of color on her fur ranging from tan to grey to black and each leg and foot looked like she wore old-fashioned women's shoes because of the tan color. I had a dream about Bryce the night before I adopted her and I had a dream she went to doggie heaven a few days before she died."

A BRYCIE POEM

By Tyler, age 6

Octopus on Bryci's necklace.

Doggie on her head.

2 and 5 more dogs.

Keisha, Max, and Truffle

and the spotted China doggie

in the tree. Brycie is cute.

Brycie is beautiful. She wears

a red gingham bow. She copies

whatever letter I do.


Rest in peace, Bryce. Look after Snoozer for me.

Karaoke Fame!

When I was a kid I loved the show Fame. I loved the movie, too. I wanted to be one of the kids in Fame. I wanted to go to a performing arts high school. At the time that I really, really loved watching Fame, we lived in Frederick, Maryland, which is a suburb of DC. I heard that there was a performing arts high school in the city similar to the one in Fame. I begged my parents to let me audition so I could study drama. My father asked, "How are you going to go to school in DC?"

I said, "You can drive me."

"No, that's not going to happen," my father informed me.

"Why not?" I demanded. "It's only forty-five minutes to get there."

"It's not going to happen," my father repeated.

I hated him for refusing to drive me to school in the city. Of course, hated him in the way 14-year-old kids hate their parents when they won't let them do something they want to do. I couldn't understand how my parents could intentionally stand between me and Fame. Didn't they know how important it was to me? Didn't they know that I was meant to live my life on stage? Didn't they know that being an actress was all I wanted in life? They didn't know anything about me. They didn't want to see me live my dream. I should have been Coco, except for the dancing part. I was never much of a dancer. But, I'm not going to say I should have been Doris because she was so, you know, dumpy. If only. If only my parents would have let me go to school in DC. Why? Why? Why? OK, I'm too overwrought to go on right now. Here I am singing Irene Cara's Out Here On My Own.

Li'l four-eyes.

My daughter has started wearing glasses. She's quite excited and proud about the entire thing, but I feel guilty. I feel guilty that I've passed on my malformed eyeballs. In many ways it was inevitable that she'd need glasses because both my husband and I had to start wearing glasses as children, but I hoped. I hoped with all my might that she might be spared the back-breaking hassle of having to deal with glasses and contacts and bad vision. I've got very, very, very, very, very bad astigmatism. I imagine my eyeballs look something like a deformed grape. Anyway, my daughter has very slight astigmatism and, right now, she probably really only needs to wear her glasses for things like reading the chalk board. I'm encouraging her to take her glasses off when she doesn't need them so that her eyes don't become dependent on the glasses too quickly. I don't know that doing this will mean a hill of beans in the long run, but I have hated, HATED, having such messed-up eyes. I think about having lasic surgery but I'm a little afraid of it because if they screw up your eyes, that's it. There's no turning back. You have fucked-up eyes. End of story. I can't think of anything worse than going through something like lasic for nothing. Also, I've been told my pupils are too large, but that was a few years ago and, supposedly, they have better techniques for dealing with large pupils. I'll probably still look into it a little bit more, but I don't know. I did find out something I hadn't known: If your eyesight causes you to have headaches, it's probably due to astigmatism. That's what the eye doctor told me after she examined my daughter's eyes. In all my years, I'd never learned that.

Sexy American girlfriend.

Here is a picture of my sexy American girlfriend. However, her identity will have to remain a mystery to all of you because I don't want you to get any smart ideas and try to steal her from me. Because she's mine.

No candy for you!

Since I spent so much time complaining about my life in yesterday's post, I forgot to talk about how my husband has declared we will no longer pass out candy on Halloween. When I got home Monday night with my daughter, his first words as soon as we walked through the door were, "That's it. I'm done. I'm never passing out candy again."

"Why?" I asked, assuming he hadn't much appreciated the rain.

"Because they're all ungrateful little shits, that's why."

He went on to explain that just about everyone who came to the house was rude and ill-mannered. He said kids just plunged their hands into the bowl instead of waiting to be given candy and that only a couple of children said thank you. "They don't deserve candy," he said. I told him that as long as we're sending our kid out to collect candy, we're giving it away. But he's pretty riled up about the whole thing. I agree, though. Kids today are shits. At least a lot of them are. Obviously, there are good kids too, but it seems like an awful lot lack even the most basic in good manners. Is that the parents' fault? Yeah, of course. The kids can't learn what they've never been taught. Which makes me wonder why so many modern parents don't seem to think it's important to teach good manners.

Oh, and in my neverending quest to humiliate my siblings, here's a picture of my brother from his bachelor party weekend. This man is 31 years old, believe it or not.

Can someone gimme a break, I say, gimme a break?

Today, right now at this very moment, I feel stressed and completely out of sorts. I know a lot of this is just me feeling sorry for myself but I feel like there is just way too much going on right now and it's just getting harder and harder to keep track of things. Yesterday was Halloween, so we did the trick-or-treat thing, which was fine until it started raiing. But that's really neither here nor there. Only that it takes up valuable after work/ school time so there's no time left to do the sorts of things that need to be taken care of bathing my child, going over homework properly, paying bills. You know, normal stuff. Tonight I have to go with my husband to pick up stuff for a memorial mass at church tomorrow. My husband volunteered to buy food and whatnot for the reception afterward. Then, of course, I'll have to go with him tomorrow to help set the thing up. That in and of itself is not that big a deal because my husband always helps out with social life stuff I take care of at church. Part of the stress of this entire situation is that the person who is supposed to be in charge isn't doing what he's supposed to be doing and he's basically leaving everyone floundering to take care of things. This is the first thing my husband has done for this new committee he just joined and he's pretty sure it's going to be the last thing he does if the leadership is this fractured. So that takes up tonight and Wednesday night. Then Thursday night, my husband and I have to go to some charity dinner for his job. Again, that's fine. I don't mind getting gussied up for a nice dinner every now and again, but it's difficult doing this sort of thing in the middle of the week when your kid has school the next day and you have work and you have to try and find someone to watch your kid in the middle of the week. In the meantime, you notice, there's no time to clean house, make a decent meal, take care of the kid's school business, etc., etc. Like I said, mostly just me bitching about nothing of any great importance, but it's so interesting how all these relatively inconsequential things clump together into major baggage. Is that life or is that just me? Don't know and don't really have time to figure it out right now.

I tried to be all creative, but for some reason, Blogger won't let me upload pictures to the title line, so I had to fudge it a bit. So Happy Halloween to all you ghouls and goblins out there. Hope you have a great day of scary fun. I'm doing the usual, taking the kid out for trick or treating tonight. Make sure you check your apples for razor blades, yo. There are plenty of sickos out there.

Trick or Treat, you bastards.

Return of the Karaoke

So I got my act together well enough this week to get a song up. I hoped if I never mentioned anything about my failure to post this past Monday for last week, you'd just forget about it. Although, I know it must have been difficult for all of you. Anyhoo, when I was a kid we used to listen to the Carpenters all the time and we had one album, I think it was a greatest hits album, that got played an awful lot. So, I guess you could say we liked the Carpenters. I only found out as a teenager that they were mormon because when you live in Utah, they take great pride in telling you who all the famous mormons are. I was surprised, but not really. At any rate, here I am with my rendition of For All We Know. Enjoy!

Skype is the hype.

OK, I am tres excited because I've downloaded Skype and had my brother do the same and now that we can talk to each other over the internet, I think I've discovered a way for us to record our conversations so we can start doing some podcasting eventually. Let me thank the people at Pottercast for mentioning Skype, which is what they use. Otherwise, I would have never found out about it. I mean, seriously, does it get any cooler than this? Unfortunately, since my brother just told me he works in a cubicle, this might complicate matters. Of course, what it really means is that I'm going to have to only do this in the evening or something.

Don't hate me because I'm beautiful.

OK, I'm gonna play proud mama today. I just got my daughter's birthday pictures for this year and I just can't get over how old she looks in them. She practically looks like a teenager in them to me, so I am going to share her loveliness with you.



Bet you never thought you'd ever see a blonde Korean, now did ya?

Everything is just a fuzzy blur.

I was in the middle of a deep, deep dream when my husband woke me up this morning so I am feeling really out of it. I can't remember exact details, but I was in an apartment that wasn't mine, although, it once had been mine in the dream. What's really weird is was an apartment that I've dreamt before as being mine, but I'm talking maybe years ago. I think it's interesting to ponder the memory of dreams. Is there a part of our brains that holds onto past dreams like memories? When I woke up, I knew the apartment was an apartment I had dreamed before. It's not like I was having the same dream as before, but it was taking place in an apartment I had dreamt before. Anyway, there was a lot of weird stuff happening in this apartment complex. My daugther and I were in the dream together and we were going to different people's apartments. We ended up visiting some lady who was kind of like a gangster moll. You know, the kind-hearted type who didn't deserve to be running with such a dangerous crowd. My daughter and I went to her apartment for some reason I can't remember and she had all these pets. She had about four birds and a couple of cats and a dog. The cat was hooked up to some weird harness thing where it couldn't go more than a couple of feet away from its litter box and the lady, who looked a bit like Cathy Moriarity, was letting some of her birds out of their cages so they could fly around the apartment. While we're at her apartment, a couple of detectives show up to ask if we know anything about a boy who lives in the complex. Apparently, something bad had happened to the boy and it was a boy that my daugther and I had encountered earlier in the dream. The boy was always tormenting my daughter in some way, so when we saw him earlier in the dream, I basically told him to go back home and leave my daughter alone. So in the dream when the detectives show up, I asked what happened to the boy, but the didn't tell me, but I told them that he was not nice to my daughter and that he always gave her a hard time and then I encouraged my daugther to tell them the sorts of things he would do to scare her. But my daughter was too intimidated to talk to them about it, so I told them the stories she had told me but in the dream I felt like it wasn't good to be telling them the stuff myself because, maybe, they wouldn't take it so seriously. Anyway, it was weird.

I've got to meet with my daughter's teacher later today for a parent/teacher conference. Nothing bad, everyone's got to do it at the end of the first quarter. My daughter got her first report card yesterday and she was bummed out because she got a 2+ in one of her subjects. In the primary grades, her school grades on a system of 1-5, with one being the lowest and 5 being the highest. All the rest of her grades where pretty good. She got a couple of 3's, some 4's, a lot of 4+'s and a few 5's. But, of course, she's only concentrating on the 2+. This is one aspect of her personality that I struggle with a lot because I don't like people who use one little set-back as an excuse to not try at all. So she sees the one bad grade and proceeds to act like she's not smart and is stupid and is never going to be good at math. Does she say, "Well, I've got to work harder and get that grade up."? No, she just says stuff like, "I'll never be able to do it." It's really hard for me to keep my patience when she endulges in this sort of talk because I really have no tolerance for it. I try to tell her that it doesn't mean she'll never be able to do it, it only means she'll have to work hard to get better at it. She's only willing to keep up with something if it's easy, and that really, really frustrates me to no end.

I've let you down again.

So I didn't get around to doing my karaoke recording over the weekend. Sorry, so sorry. But damn, dudes, I've got a life and all. My daughter's birthday party was at Build-a-Bear and she had a great time, then everyone headed back to our house for pizza, cake and ice cream. It was all good until I couldn't take the kids anymore and I chased them all out to the playground so the grown-ups could enjoy some conversation. My parents got my daugther one of these Nintendo DS things, which are basically like the new Gameboy. I don't think my daughter truly appreciates how much my parents spoil her. I couldn't beleive they got her one because those things aren't cheap, which is why I refused to get her one. She got a Gameboy Advance from my sister for Christmas and that was all she needed as far as I'm concerned. But you know these kids. They "need" every new-fangled device that comes out. Anyway, we got her the Nintendog game she wanted for it which is basically like a virtual pet sort of game. She raises and trains a dog. She picked the Chihuahua version and named her dog Nacho. The whole virtual pet thing is OK as far as I'm concerned because you don't have to take them to the vet and there's no shit to pick up.

Karaoke Postponed

Sorry, sorry, sorry. But between the pumpkin patch and catsitting and making arragnements for my mother's 60th birtday bash and preparing for my daughter's birthday party tomorrw, I just couldn't get around to doing a karaoke recording. So, to make up for it, I'm putting up this video clip that my friend sent me which is pretty funny and apropos for Halloween. So here it is and come back Monday when I hope to have the karaoke post up for your listening pleasure.

Boo

Yesterday evening, my husband asked if he could have the pleasure of taking me out to dinner on the 22nd and I asked why, what's the special occassion and he said, "Uh, our anniversary." So now you see why the karaoke post isn't here. If I couldn't even remember my anniversary (which is our 11th anniversary, by the way) with everything I'm trying to keep straight right now, you can see how singing took backseat to everything else.

What the...

K, when I got to work this morning I found my office door wide open and my lights on? It's weird, but it had the same shock value of coming home and finding my front door open. I was like, "What the freak is going here?" I went in and looked around, but nothing seemed out of place. I'm hoping it was just the cleaning crew forgetting to turn out the lights and close the door. But I'm still somewhat peturbed by the entire thing. If it was the cleaning crew, I think this place needs to get a new contract because the people cleaning the offices right now don't seem overly competent. I noticed they didn't even vacuum the carpets for months on end. I finally called and complained when I came in one day to find a mess of paper shredding that had accidently been spilled the day before. The fact that it was still there the next day indicated to me they hadn't even bothered coming into the room. Because if they had and just left that mess there, that's crappy job performance. Anyway, when I called building maintenance to ask how often they're supposed to vacuum, the guy told me every night and I told him that wasn't happening by any stretch of the imagination. Anyway, I've noticed since then that the floors seem to get vacuumed a little more often, but it's still not often. I've vacuumed the floor myself in the past if I can snatch hold of a vacuum every now and again. If I don't mind cleaning, then the people being paid to do it shouldn't mind, as far as I'm concerned.

Last night we did the pumpkin patch with my daughter and her brownie troop. It is absolutely amazing how excited a gaggle of little girls can get over the prospect of a hayride and pumpkin picking. What's not amazing is listening to that same group of excited girls sing the girl scout friend circle song over and over and over again. The only thing worse than that is then listening to them sing a song about the continents 50 times over afterward. Do you know how piercing the singing voices of little girls are? Yeah, by the end of the evening, I had a line of blood dribbling from my right ear. I think they popped my eardrum. It was fun though because I got to roast my marshmallows. That was a good thing.

So it's like this...

I have so mastered the art of getting around the office by just pushing around on my chair that I believe I can be confidently dubbed the Dorothy Hamil of chair maneuvering. And I'm serious. It's really about the ability to push and turn at the same time that defines the expert, which is me. If chairnastics was an Olympic sport, I'd get the gold for sure. But enough of my chair mastery. We have to go to a pumpkin patch tonight with my daughter's brownie troop. Last year it was pretty cold, so I hope it's not so frigid this time around. The best part about going to the pumpkin patch is that they let you roast marshmallows at the end. Mmmmmm, roasted marshmallows. I might have to pick up my own bag so I don't have to share with those greedy, grabby brownie scouts. Bitches.

I was reading a little bit about the recovery efforts in New Orleans and I'm still just amazed by everything that's happened down there. Now they say this Hurricane Wilma is, like, the biggest hurricane ever. Big reason why I don't live along the southern coastal regions of this country. I can't imagine living in an area where I've got to constantly evacuate. What about living down there makes it worth it to people? It seems like the entire planet is being plagued by massive natural disasters over the last couple of months, which can only mean one thing: Armageddon! I believe this entire year was a Nostradamus prediction, if I'm not mistaken. I'm going to go rent that Orson Wells movie to double check.

Well, Madonna would know, right?

So Madonna thinks most priests are gay, huh? Why does that not surprise me in the least? Because I'm sure she's in the know when it comes to that sort of thing. Just like Sean Penn knows more about world politics than the president. I don't know how you could even be offended by a comment like, "Most priests are gay," because it makes just about as much sense as saying most men are gay, or most women are gay, or most celebrities are gay, or most bakers are gay. So what I'm basically saying is, it's stupid. And even if it is true by some strange, Twilight Zone twist of faith, who the freak gives a damn? I mean, her comment is good for the laugh just to get an even better understanding of how crazy Madonna is. I like her music and all, but she's just plain lost it. She and Tom Cruise should get together and discuss their respective religions and world views. I'm sure that would be a fascinating conversation. Of course, she'd probably come out of it saying, "Tom Cruise is gay." But we already knew that, didn't we?

So close and, yet, it still doesn't mean a hill of beans.

Now, was that a game or was that a game on Saturday? I'm no Notre Dame football fan by any stretch of the imagination, but even I got into the game toward the end. How could you not? That game was everything college football is supposed to be in terms of excitement and good, old-fashioned fun. Of course, all the ND fans in town were devastated, but it is just a game. However, I am so, so sad about the Penn State loss. I was really hoping we could have an unbeaten season since Joe Pa deserves at least one last killer year. Oh well.

It was interesting being in South Bend over the weekend, though, because so many people came in for the game. There were more limos and private jets coming in than for the Oscars or something of that nature. Everybody was getting all hyped up, spreading rumors about the celebrities in town. People were saying everyone from Jessica and Nick to Angelina and Brad were in town. I think maybe it was just Martin Short, in reality. Oh, I guess Joe Montana came in for the pep rally on Friday. Other than that, I'm not really sure who came in for the game. But it was definitely a high-energy weekend.

We're catsitting for one of my grad students and it's been an interesting night. We have a rabbit and chinchilla, and the cat apparently spent a lot of the evening scaring the shit out of the critters. My husband said he heard the chinchilla barking and generally spazzing out, and the rabbit stomping his foot in his cage. so he got up and tried to carry them down to the basement so he could get some peace and quiet, and since he was only half-conscious while doing this, dropped the rabbit cage, spilling all the contents of the cage onto the floor. I was awakened at 5 a.m. to very loud cat howling and the sound of the shop vac. Anyway, now the rodents are in the basement. The cat is not and everything should be OK. Hopefully.

Karaoke Lightbulb.

This has been a pretty busy week for me, so I wasn't able to do one of my normal karaoke recordings. Buuuuut, since I love you all so very much and I know how desperately you wait for these little posts every Friday, I have quickly recorded me singing a little ditty from a musical I did in sixth grade called The Electric Sunshine Man. It was a musical about Thomas A. Edison and his revolutionary contributions to modern life. What I have here is the beginning of the opening number. I would have sung the entire song for you, but I can remember more than what I've got here, so please enjoy The Electric Sunshine Man. I hope listening to this song inspires you to visit your local library and learn more about the life and times of Thomas Edison, a true American hero.

More than a mouthful is just too much.

This is not exactly a new story, but one that must be read to be believed.

Snake bursts after gobbling gator



An unusual clash between a 6-foot (1.8m) alligator and a 13-foot (3.9m) python has left two of the deadliest predators dead in Florida's swamps.

The Burmese python tried to swallow its fearsome rival whole but then exploded.

The remains of the two giant reptiles were found by astonished rangers in the Everglades National Park.

The rangers say the find suggests that non-native Burmese pythons might even challenge alligators' leading position in the food chain in the swamps.

Clearly, if they can kill an alligator they can kill other species
Prof Frank Mazzotti

The python's remains with the victim's tail protruding from its burst midsection were found last week. The head of the python was missing.

"Encounters like that are almost never seen in the wild... And here we are," Frank Mazzotti, a University of Florida wildlife professor, was quoted as saying by the Associated Press news agency.

"They were probably evenly matched in size. If the python got a good grip on the alligator before the alligator got a good grip on him, he could win," Professor Mazzotti said.

He said the alligator may have clawed at the python's stomach, leading it to burst.

"Clearly, if they can kill an alligator they can kill other species," Prof Mazzotti said.

He said that there had been four known encounters between the two species in the past. In the other cases, the alligator won or the battle was an apparent draw.

Burmese pythons - many of whom have been dumped by their owners - have thrived in the wet and hot climate of Florida's swamps over the past 20 years.
Story from BBC NEWS:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/go/pr/fr/-/2/hi/americas/4313978.stm

Published: 2005/10/05 21:42:54 GMT

© BBC MMV

Oh...my...God!!!

I killed a cockroach in my kitchen this morning. I can't quite believe I'm sharing this with you because you'll now question my ability to keep a clean house. This is the first time I've ever seen a cockroach in my house, and with ever fiber of my being, I swear this will be the LAST time I see a cockroach in my house because I am going to kill the little bastards with the wrath of me hunting cockroaches. Which is very big, very frightening, and very wrathy. Sadam Hussein? Forget Sadam Hussein. He's an amateur compared to the chemical warfare I'm going to unleash against those buggers. They will be sorry they defiled the sanctity of my home. Actually, they won't be sorry because they're going to DEAD. So they'll be incabable of experiencing regret. But that's OK by me. After I pick up my daughter from school today, it's straight to the store to buy every cockroach eliminating spray known to man. And then the day will be mine.

My shirt stinks and what's up with Adam Curry's hair?

My shirt stinks and I don't know why. It's been awhile since I've worn it, but I don't know why that would make it stink. I had my husband spray the back of me with Febreeze, but I can smell the stench off the front. I hope I'm the only one who can smell it. I'd be pretty embarrassed if anyone else could smell it. Notice, though, that while knowing my shirt stinks, I didn't actually change it. I mean, I ironed it and everything this morning, so I wasn't going to make the effort a vain one. So I'm wearing a stinky shirt.

As far as Adam Curry's hair goes, why is it straight and blonde now? Remember when Adam Curry was a VJ on MTV and he looked like Leo from Fame? Now he's sporting the polar opposite of his 80's hair. Is he ashamed? I think he looks stupid with his hair the way it is now. Mainly because you know he's spending a lot of time on it to get it that way and once you're married and have kids, I don't think you should be spending that much time on your hair because that means you're not spending time on something more important. I'm a girl and I spend too little time on my hair. I'm probably just jealous that he gets to spend so much time on his hair when I can't. Actually, I am jealous that he can spend more time on his hair. I hate Adam Curry and his fancy hair.

My family drove to Michigan this weekend to visit one of my husband's aunts. He hasn't seen her since his father died when he was six. We also visited his father's grave, which is also the first time my husband has been there since his father died. It was pretty emotional for him, I think. He said he felt very sad about being there but he was glad to have gone and now he wants to try and get up there at least a couple of times a year. We tried getting some information from my husband's aunt about his father, but she seemed somewhat reluctant to give us the really juicy stuff. My husband is hoping she'll loosen up a little bit more as we spend more time with her. Since the only way he can really get information about his father now is through someone else's experiences, it makes it difficult to put together a full picture. My husband says his mother didn't ever speak much about his father as he was growing up, which is a real shame as far as I'm concerned. But I'm glad our daughter finally gets to connect with family members on her father's side. She told me before went up that she was excited about meeting these new family members because sometimes all the Korean people are just too much.

Karaoke in a bottle

This week's song is one of my favorite Police songs. The Police being my favorite group of all time, and if you don't agree with me, just keep your piehole shut and there won't be any violence. But seriously, I love this song and I've used quotes from it to start off several high school theme papers in my time. My one real sorrow in life is that I never got to see the Police perform live. I was fourteen or fifteen when Synchronicity came out, and then they broke up shortly after that. Needless to say, I was a little too young to go see them previous to the break-up. Oh the tragedy. Oh the injustice. So here I am singing Message in a Bottle.

You just never know what's going to smack you in the face.

I can't believe Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes are pregnant. Well, I can believe they're pregnant, I just can't believe they'd go around telling everyone. How pregnant can she be? I didn't really want to make big news of it until I was at least through my first trimester. But, what, she's probably only two weeks pregnant or something. One can only guess because I have no idea when she's expecting. What I find more interesting about all of this is Tom Cruise's de-evolution as a sex symbol. Most people are like, "What? Eeeww." I can remember a time when some women might have said, "Ooooh, she's having sex with Tom Cruise? She's so lucky." I don't think anyone is calling Katie Holmes lucky right now. Not that I care whether or not a person has premarital sex or not, but I do think it's somewhat tacky to go around telling the world you're going to stay a virgin until you get married and then get knocked up before you get a chance to walk down the aisle. That's just poor breeding, as far as I'm concerned.

As my husband was telling me the news of the impending birth, he said that the news was reporting that Scientologists don't believe in pain medication during birth and that the mother is not allowed to scream during delivery because it will upset the baby. I had drugs when I had my daughter and I still screamed. Not easy to turn off the screaming during labor. What the fuck is wrong with these people? Of course, it had to be a man who came up with that stupid-ass rule. Don't scream while you're experiencing the most excruciating pain you will probably ever experience in your life. You know, that's fine as long as the woman gets to squeeze the man's testicles while she's holding in he screams. If the guy doesn't scream, then it's a fair deal.

I'm a pepper, you're a pepper...

Remember the good old days when werewolves endorsed soda? Yeah, good times, good times. I don't know what to talk about today. My colleague Renee says I should talk about the vendor fair we went to today, where we got all kinds of free stuff. The biggest prize of the day was a huge yardstick. It's actually more than just a flat stick, it's like a yardclub because it's thick and square and looks more like a samuri sword than a measuring device. It should prove quite useful in doling out punishment in the house. We got free cookies, too. And they were warm to boot. I also got free cake. I'm on the Nutrisystem right now, so I'm hoping the cookie and cake don't do too much damage. But, you know, you only live once, so what the heck. How am I supposed to turn down Bailey's Irish Cream Torte, I ask you? It's like expecting someone to stop breathing or something. Crazy talk is what it is. Plus, it was just a small piece. A crumb really. The cookie was big though. Renee helped herself to the free hotdog and chips, but I passed on that. I got a free light up yo-yo. That was pretty cool. I wish I could do yo-yo tricks. I always wanted to do that walk the dog move. I don't know how one learns to do yo-yo tricks, but it would be pretty cool if I could.

I've decided my daughter will start taking guitar lessons. It's dawned on me that she's not really very disciplined and I think taking guitar lessons will give her some of that. She needs to understand that sometimes you do stuff for no other reason than you have to and you've got to see those things out to the end. I told her my plan yesterday. She'd rather learn the bongos, she told me. But I explained I didn't think I'd be able to find a bongo teacher. I gave her the choice of guitar or piano and she chose guitar. I would have made her do guitar anyway because I don't have room in my house for a piano. So I just put her on the waiting list at a guitar place down the street from where we live. Hopefully, it won't take too long before they can take her in. The lady asked me if I preferred a certain teacher and I told her I just need someone really, really patient because my daughter likes to spend a lot of time explaining why she can't do something as way to try and get out of doing something. The lady said all their teachers are patient. We'll see, we'll see.

Yo want some yo-yo tricks I got yo yo tricks for you all day long

So you want to learn how to do yo yo tricks huh. The thing that most people don't understand with yo yo tricks is that they are really easy as long as you truly know how to yo-yo. The secret is mastering the stall
once you can master the stall you can do any yo yo trick you want to do. the stall is throwing the yo yo down and making it stay down until you flick your wrist and the yo yo rides up the string. To master the stall you must first master the toss. to toss a yo yo you do not just let it go from your hand and sort of push down for momentum. To properly toss your yo yo you must hold it in your hand palm up with the yo yo facing the sky, center groove lined up with the finger the string is on. (I use my middle finger because it helps me keep the yo yo centered an important thing later). next you fling the yo yo down over that string finger (imagine the girl from my cousin vinny describing her biological clock but more fluid and down ward not sideward). You have thrown the yo yo down the palm is face up. as you have thrown down the yo yo smoothly not jerkily roll your hand over so your palm is facing down. At this point the yo yo should be spinning at the bottom of the string "stalling" you can stall for a second or for as long as you want, or the yo you stops spinning at which point its not stalling any more its dead.

In order to make the yo yo race back up the string all you have to do is swiftly but not majorly hard is snap your finger or wrist up. and the yo you will ride up the string. That is the basis for any yo yo trick. Now. . . for your fateful walk the dog. Stall the yo yo as discussed above. as its stalling at the bottom of the string simply mildly drop it on the ground in front of you and walk along as the yo you rides on the ground and sucks up line. when you want to fully rewind the yo yo pull up with your arm then as the yo yo comes up into the air. put your arm down towards the yo you to sort of make it "defy gravity" and suck up the line without tension so you can get it all reeled up then throw it again. Its as easy as that. Next week join us for the other fundamental base for all other tricks. the pendulum.

Till next time kids!, keep on yo'in!

Podcasting addict.

That's me. I'm listening to PotterCast with Melissa Anelli of the Leaky Cauldron. I also listen to MuggleCast with the boys from MuggleNet because they're funny. I'm finding these podcasts much more accessible than going to the websites because I can do other stuff while I'm listening, like writing this post. Isn't that just super cool? The MuggleCast boys make me laugh because they're teenage boys and they're silly. I like listening to them yell at each other because it reminds me of the kid from Trekkies who yells at the friend who calls him in the middle of his interview with Denise Crosby. That's what the MuggleCast boys are like when they talk to each other and one says something that one of the others doesn't agree with. I listen to the podcasts through iTunes. Also, there's one episodes of MuggleCast where one of the boys says, "Guys, guys, guys." And that makes me laugh because there was this one boy I knew in high school who used to always get dumped on by the other boys that I hung out with and they'd do things like wrap him up in a blanket and he'd frantically yell out, "Guys, guys, guys," because he couldn't breathe and stuff, but it was funny to me anyway. So, I would highly recommend listening to either one of those podcasts. Once I figure out how to get my own podcast up and running, I promise to be just as entertaining. I just have to figure out how to score the interviews with some famous people. I was thinking about how to try and interview Sean Astin because he's supposed to make an appearance at this Roasting Rudy event that's taking place here in South Bend next week, but it turns out it's just going to be a video feed appearance so I won't be able to corner him for an interview. I was devasted by the news, I assure you. We don't get many famous people here, you know.

Another Monday. Please God, let it end.

I'm talking about the work week, of course. I'm starting to think Mondays should be banned because I hate them most of the time. Did I tell you how they opened a Build-a-Bear in our mall over the summer? This is something I've been dreading because my daughter LOVES Build-a-Bear, almost as much Pokemon. Anyway, up until they opened the local store, she's only been able to go to Build-a-Bear during our infrequent trips to Chicago or DC. That was pretty good as far as I was concerned. Now, the constant and easy lure of Build-a-Bear has overly excited about mall trips. I hate the mall, so it's good that I don't go there very often; otherwise, I would come to hate the mall pretty quickly if I didn't already as I do, which I've just mentioned. What is this all leading up to? Well, she's having her birthday party there in a few weeks. I booked the party about a month ago and she's been checking off the days until her party. She did a happy little dance on Friday when she realized it was finally October.

"I am now in my birthday month," she explained to me.

She has never been more excited about a birthday party in her life. Really, I think she's been anticipating this party more than Christmas morning. I don't know what it is she thinks will happen other than she'll end up with a new bear, but she's pretty familiar with the routine at the store. In fact, we were just there yesterday and she used some money she'd saved up to buy a new animal. It won't even be as if it's been a long time since she's been to the store before her birthday, so I'm pretty amused by her enthusiasim.

Me, waiting in line.

Karaoke Rock!

So here we are with that special, special song I promised you last week. My daughter picked it out for me, although she refused to sing with me. Apparently, she's the management and I'm the talent, so there's no mixing of duties to take place. Anyway, there's no good way to prep you for what you're about hear, but let me just say for those about to rock, I salute you. This is, by the way, Goofy Gober Rock from Spongebob Squarepants, The Movie.

Daily Dancer Interview, Part V

Here we are back with your favorite booty-shaker, Daily Dancer, for the final installment of my in-depth interview. It's been great getting to know the man behind Daily Dancer and I hope you have also learned a little something about his gracious nature and generosity in the process. I'd like to take this opportunity to thank Daily Dancer for answering all the questions I threw his way. He never flinched once. That's a real man for you. And before I get all choked up with emotion and everything, let's get on with the show.

KC: Five years?!? What are you waiting for? Seriously, what are you waiting for?

DD: Do I have to answer that question? You know that she will be reading this, right? All I can say is that I am waiting for the right time to come. Regardless of when I propose to her, I love her very much and love being with her.

KC: What type of games are you interested in developing? Shoot 'em ups? SIM type games? My Little Pony? Also, what are your thoughts on the heavily male-focused video game industry? I know there have been recent attempts to gear more games towards girls, but they seem kind of lame to me. What do you think?

DD: I am more into games from 10-15 years ago, back when side scrollers and top-down RPGs were at their peak. I have always wanted to make such a game, but with a great internal design, of course. No hacking for me! As for girls' games, they are probably lame because of stereotypes. The game makers assume that girls will enjoy playing games about makeup and clothing. Even more significant is the fact that these games do not have much of a market, so the top gaming companies devote their budgets to the more-popular shoot-em-ups and sports games.

KC: What is your opinion on the recent events surrounding Hurricane Katrina?

DD: These things happen in the world. It is sad to think about people losing their homes and families. But, with all these disasters, it is often easy to forget the people who go through these hardships on a regular basis. Think about the people in poor countries, or on the streets of your own city, who have lived homeless and hungry for years. Why do people often jump to help the people who had more in the first place, rather than the people who never ever had much at all?

KC: You spend a lot of time dancing to requests on your blog, but what type of music is your favorite type of dancing music?

DD: My favorite dance music is the same music I dance to most frequently on my blog: hits from the 80's and 90's.

KC: What do you regret most in life and why?

DD: I do not have any regrets that stand out. Everything that goes wrong turns into a learning experience.

KC: What is your proudest accomplishment?

DD: My proudest accomplishment is finishing my Masters degree in Computer Science. Working on my Masters thesis was extremely difficult, but it made me learn about how I work best and how to persevere.

KC: Are most people who know you surprised you would do something like this blog (if they know about it, that is)? How do you think most people in your life view you?

DD: I think that many people would be surprised by my blog. I think that I am generally perceived as quiet and shy. But, when I get a chance to perform, I always let my inner star show. You should see me do Karaoke! I see that you like doing Karaoke as well. :)

KC: Who designed the logo for your Daily Dancer t-shirts?

DD: A friend designed the logo for the shirts. He did a great job on the body hair.

KC: Were you ever nervous about dancing on the internet? I can detect a significant level of loosening up as your blog progresses, so I'm wondering if you are gaining more confidence as you continue to do it.

DD: I was never really nervous about dancing on the Internet. Maybe the barrier of the Internet makes it somewhat easier.

KC: If this ends up being the last round of questions, is there anything in particular you'd like to tell the Daily Dancer audience?

DD: I would like to tell the Daily Dancer audience "thank you" for giving me an audience to dance for. I enjoy dancing for my fans, and I love reading their comments and e-mails.

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