T minus three days and counting.

My husband and daughter go to pick up Mookie the Mutt on Friday. To say my daughter is trembling with excitement is a major, major understatement. I fully expect her head to explode within the next day or two. I am cautiously excited about the entire thing because we must first get through the crucial housetraining stage. I am girding myself for the tough job ahead of us. I don't really know how difficult it will be since I've never housetrained a dog, but I'm not expecting it to be easy. We've been reading books and stuff, but it still seems like it is going to be fairly challenging ordeal. Although, the fact that you are not encouraged to let the dog have free rein of the house until she is fully housetrained is a saving grace. We're going to keep Mookie in the kitchen, so any accidents should be fairly easy to clean up.

In other news, I bought myself some clothes over the weekend, which is a pretty momentous thing for me since I almost never buy anything for myself. I had to get an outfit for this charity dinner we went to Saturday night. I also got myself a t-shirt and pair of capris while I was at it. Of course, I felt guilty about spending the money as soon as I walked out the store. Oh, did I mention the shoes? I got shoes, too. That was nice.

Guest Karaoke

Hold on to your socks everyone because I have got a special, special treat for you today. My husband has decided to take a stab that this whole Karaoke Friday thing and appears for the first time to entertain you with his smooth karaoke stylings. Please give a hand to my husband singing House of the Rising Sun.




P.S. Odeo is again giving me problems with the audio uploading. I don't know what the deal is, but I'm started to get peeved.

What are you looking at?

That's basically my mood today. Just leave me the fuck alone. I've been fighting a cold the last few days, and that coupled with my overall gimpiness is putting me in a foul mood. Man, life is just relentless. There is definitely no rest for the weary. I got home yesterady and just zonked. I still got a normal night's sleep on top of that. Obviously, I needed it. My daughter's had a cold, too, which doubles the misery because she's such a little pain when she's sick. I know I shouldn't say something like that about my kid, but it's true. I know she feels like shit, but so do I. I'm starting to enter the unforgiving stage of parenting. It is everyone for their goddamned self, Toots. I'm sure I'd be much more motherly if I didn't feel like crap.

What the Hell?

I had my first official session at the physical therapist yesterday and I am left wondering what the hell I am paying them money for because they didn't do a damn thing I couldn't have done on my own for free. I get there and the first thing they have me do is my normal exercises that I've been doing all week, then they have me step up and down with my bad leg and then they put me on a bike for ten minutes. Nobody did anything to me, they just told me what to do and then left me alone. Oh, someone did wrap my leg in ice for five minutes after I was done with all my exercises, so that's probably what I'm paying them for. On top of it all, it took them twenty minutes to even get me started. That probably pissed me off more than anything because if they were going to have me do everything on my own anyway, why didn't they just set me up as soon as I walked in the door? I have a life. I have a schedule. I've got better things to do than sit and wait to exercise on my own. Anyway, they better show me something worth something next time I go in.

I've been thinking a lot about my birthday, which is coming up in a couple of weeks. I've been thinking about turning 37. I don't know why. I'm not weirded out about it or anything, but I've sure been thinking about it a lot. Probably because if there's something I was to accomplish while I'm still in my 30's, I'm realizing I don't have very much time left. Which brings the question, what do I still want to accomplish in my 30's? Writing a book would be nice if I could get around to it. Seriously, do we ever reach an age where we figure out this entire life thing?

Oops.

You know, I only realized today that I hadn't posted anything yesterday. Maybe I didn't have anything interesting to say. Yesterday my eldest nephew turned 12 and it was making me feel pretty old. He's the first grandkid in the family so he's sort of the marking point for old because I still remember him as a little baby. He'll be a teenager next year and that's really freaking me out. How will I feel when my daughter turns 13? I really don't want to think about it because she's already PMSing half the time as it is. I really don't want to imagine what it will be like when she's actually got the hormones to back it up. I'm running a slight fever today, but I just swallowed a handful of drugs to get me through the day, so we'll see how it goes. I'm on the Dayquil, which is my favorite cold medicine because it makes you loopy. Loopy is fun. It gives you a good excuse to be ignorant for the day. I have physical therapy today. I've been doing my exercises pretty religiously and I think I can tell there is some improvement. I didn't do my exercises as much as I should have over the weekend and I could sure tell yesterday morning because my knee did feel stiff. The exercise that's actually the hardest for me to do is the easiest. I lie on my stomach face-down while letting the bottom half of my legs hang off the edge of the bed so that gravity pulls my knee straight. That one hurts like a mother and I am counting down the seconds for my five minutes to be up with that one. It pains me.

Podcast episode 9

It's Korean Celt Squared at you today for episode nine. My brother and I discuss Tom Cruise in the closet, among other things.

Karaoke Replay

I haven't had the time do any new recordings so I thought we'd go back, back, back to a more innocent time when a crazy gal had a crazy idea to share her crazy dream with the world. So today let's relive the day when it all started, when I decided to start my Karaoke Fridays. Here I am singing my first post, Hit Me With Your Best Shot.



I'm going to try and stockpile a bunch of new songs over the weekend so I don't have to worry about all of this for a long, long time.

By the way, HAPPY ST. PATRICK'S DAY. Hope you chase all your snakes away.

Light as a feather, stiff as a board.

My daugther just got invited to her first slumber party. She's pretty excited about it. She asked me, "Mom, isn't it true that all little brothers try to seek into the slumber party at 1 a.m. to wake up all the girls?" I told her that hadn't been my experience. She's asking this because the friend hosting the sleepover has a little brother. Surprise, surprise. The funny thing about my daughter is that once she gets something into her head, she's not going to let go. Once I told her I'd never been awakened at 1 in the morning by a wayward little brother, she asked, "Well, isn't that something they like to do?"

At any rate, she will be prepping herself to be rudely awakened in the early hours of the party. The girls are second graders, so I don't think they'll be partaking in the time-honored, slumber party tradition of light as a feather, stiff as a board. I have to wonder how this game got started because ALL girls know about it and they ALL do it at slumber parties. I don't know anyone who's never done light as a feather, stiff as a board at a slumber party. I think it would be akin to living in America and never having eaten a Big Mac. I'm sure they're are people out there who haven't had one, but I sure don't know them. We also liked to do the Bloody Mary thing where you stand in the bathroom with the lights out chanting, "Bloody Mary come to me. Bloody Mary come to me." You do this while facing the mirror so that when you flip on the lights you get to see if Bloody Mary came. And the seances. We always had seances. However, those always freaked me out a bit because I heard that once a spirit is invited into the house the only way to get rid of it is to burn down the house, so I used to try and call people that seemed nice to me, like Henry Fonda. I used to call Henry Fonda a lot. We'd tell stories about idiots who'd tried to call Dracula or some other scary creature like that and all the party goers would be found dead the next morning with puncture wounds in their necks. Trust me, little girls know how to scare the shit out of themselves.

A tale of two prejudices.

I watched the new Pride and Prejudice last night (I'm liking the NetFlix) and, overall, I don't think it was as good as the A&E miniseries, which is the best adaptation of Pride and Prejudice ever. EVER. If you don't agree, hit the road. I thought the movie did some really nice things, but being used to the slower pace of the miniseries, I was somewhat taken aback by how quickly everything happened in the movie. Of course, everything has to move more quickly because the movie is telling the same story in less time. I will say that I thought Matthew Macfadyen (Darcy) was brilliant in the scene when he and Elizabeth finally come together. I loved how he stumbled over his words and lost his breath. I literally swooned at that part. I didn't like how they seemed to dumb down the language a bit with the movie, explaining things a little more bluntly than was done in the miniseries. I felt it betrayed the true nature of Jane Austen's dialogue somewhat. And I really thought Jennifer Ehle did a better job of portraying Elizabeth than Keira Knightley. I thought Ehle was much more poised and graceful in her performance and there was a bothersome ragamuffin aspect to Knightley's portrayal that annoyed me. In all, I did enjoy the movie and would eagerly recommend it, but only after encouraging a person to watch the miniseries first.

Feel the burn.

I had my first visit to the physical therapist yesterday and it was OK. He basically took measurements of my knee bends and extensions and stuff. It was exciting. But really, it was OK. At first I thought he was going to start wrenching my knee and twisiting it and shit, so I asked him, "Are you going to hurt me? Because if you are, I just want to know so I can warn you that I'm a yeller."

He laughed and said he wasn't going to hurt me and that he wasn't going to make any sudden movements or anything like that. I was much relieved because everyone kept telling me that they were going to seriously bend and push my knee all over the place and I was a little bit nervous about that. In the end, he just showed me the exercises he wants me to do at home and made sure I knew how to do them properly. It was all good. I actually noticed a difference this morning. My knee seemed much looser than it has, so I'm pretty hopeful everything will be in good working order by the end of the year.

One thing does bug, though. They gave me a sheet that said my insurance only covers 20 sessions a year. They want me to come in two times a week and at a minimum, I'm going to need therapy for six months. Twenty sessions is only ten weeks. What am I supposed to do after that? It's pretty stupid on the part of the insurance company because it costs them less money to just pony up and cover all the physical therapy until my knee is good and strong. Because what will likely happen if my knee isn't good and strong? I'll probably end up injuring it again and fixing it will cost more. I don't understand why insurance companies seem to be lacking the most basic common sense. I know they're all about the money and don't really care about the members, but doing things the way they are doing them DOES waste money. They just need to be a little smart about it. Stupid pricks.

Podcast episode 8

Finally, Odeo fixed its upload problem. Sexy American Girlfriend and I discuss several things, including rude Canadian consulate employees and her father's birthday. Enjoy.



Changing the subject a bit, do you have any idea how hard it is to find solid white crinkle chiffon? It's damn hard. I need it for my daughter's communion dress and I haven't been able to find it anywhere. I even looked on the internet and can't find any. You wouldn't think that was such a rare fabric. I bought regular white chiffon because I have to use something, but it upsets me when I can't use what I'm supposed to use. It just throws off the mojo in a big way.

No karaoke Friday.

No song this week. Sorry, but I'm just coming off the surgery and all. You understand, right? We just joined up Netflix. I'm hoping there are movies in my mailbox today so I can watch something tonight. My daughter is jumping around to the Pokemon theme song right now. I'm sure you can imagine how enjoyable that is to me. Something is up with Odeo and it's not letting me upload audio files for some reason. I've got a new podcast episode waiting for y'all, but I can't do it until I can upload the file. Boo hoo. I'm feeling a little jittery right now. I wonder if it's from my pain medication. The medical supply people are coming to pick up my continuous motion machine today. It makes me a little sad because having to use that thing was a good excuse to take a break for an hour. Oh, here's something new I learned. The birthday cake flavor mix at Coldstone Creamery really does taste like birthday cake. It's good.

Eerrrrgh.

Before I say anything, just let me state that I love my mother. I love my mother very much; however, I'm a little irked with her right now. And I really do mean just a little. She called me yesterday to tell me that if I hadn't already gotten a communion dress for my daughter that I shouldn't because she just bought one. I told her that I was planning on making my daughter's communion dress and she asked if I'd already gotten the material and I said yes. In fact, I just bought the material over the weekend. She responded by saying, "Oh, well, now you don't need to worry about making it." I'm upset because it wasn't going to be a hassle to make it. I want to make it. It was supposed to be a special mother/daughter thing for me to make my daughter's dress. Plus, she had picked out the pattern and helped pick out the material, so she was excited to wear it. Anyway, when I talked to my mom I told her I hadn't cut the material yet, so I could always make something else. The truth is that untless my daugther plans to ever attend a cotillion for her coming out, which doesn't really happen around here, I won't have any reason to make something for her with the material I purchased because it's bridal fabric. Fabric intended for use on a wedding gown or some other similar garment like , oh I don't know, a communion dress. I told my daughter about it last night and she's upset. But I told her that her grandmother wants to feel like she's contributing to the day, which she is, and that she's not trying to ruin it. My daughter gets that and is willing to be gracious about it, but the more I thought about it, the more I got peeved. This is my daughter and it's the only opportunity I'll have in life to make a communion dress. I've decided I'm going to make it anyway and then probably have my daughter change into the dress my mother bought her for the party afterward. As it goes, my daughter may end up liking the dress my mom got her better than the one I'm making. I guess we'll just see how it goes.

I am sooooooo over it.

I've pretty much been a gimp since the beginning of the year and I'm pretty much fed up with the entire thing. I'm sick of not being able to move the way I'm used to moving. I'm sick of not being able to walk without pain. I'm sick of being denied my ancestral right to kimchi squat. I am sick of the entire ordeal. I just want to get started with the physical therapy so I can get back to being the way I'm supposed to be. Sad to say it does take a prolonged injury or illness to truly appreciate being well-bodied. But we're human and stupid. I think when I'm back to normal, I will always skip just because I can.

Eeew! It's so gross, yet strangely fascinating.

That's what my daughter has been saying about my knee. Here's a picture of the mutilated, swollen monstrosity that is my leg about four days post-op.



So, I'll be sporting some big ass scars when all is said and done. My daughter says I should tell people that I got my scars while in the Army. She seems to think that explains everything. The fact that I was never in the Army doesn't seem to concern her too much, though. I had my staples taken out yesterday, which stings like a mofo. I mean, really. It stings like mad when they take those staples out. I tried to get the nurse to give me the staple remover because I thought that they threw them out after one use because they come in these sealed plastic bags, but she said they sterilize them and reuse them, so she wouldn't hand it over. Bitch. It looked like a very handy tool. I'd already taken out one staple myself Saturday night because it was elevated above the skin and kept getting caught on things and pulling, which hurt. Plus it was moving around a lot, which was really irritating to the area, so I used tweezers and a pair of needle-nose pliers to rip that sucker out. Actually, I was very careful. But when I took it out, I was left with a scar that looks like a division sign. My daughter thinks that's pretty cool. I had to stop taking the Tylenol 3 I'd been giving because I'm driving pretty regularly now, so the doc gave me a script for Darvocet. But when I got home and read the pharmacy information, it said darvocet is a combination of narcotic and non-narcotic pain medications and I was a little upset because I told the doctor I wanted a non-narcotic medication. Anyway, I'm taking it, I just hope there's not enough narcotic to get me in trouble with the coppers.

Podcast #7

My brother and I discuss several different things which are all very interesting.

I'm baaaaaack.

I'm back and in pain. I've got a lot of catching up to do, so I'll just run through the highlights. My knee surgery went fine and I'm hoping to get the staples out today when I see the doctor. I've been exercising my leg all week in a continuous motion device which has been all right, I suppose. My knee hurts, though. I won't kid about that. But anyway. I've got gory pictures to show you tomorrow, so until then.

Karaoke Wednesday.

Bet you weren't expecting that, were you? Since I'm going under the knife tomorrow and will be indisposed for who knows how long, I thought I'd leave you with what you like best. I think I've mentioned that I've loved Sting since I was 15 or 16. Anyway, this is one of my favorite Sting songs. I first heard it at a point in my life when it was exactly what I needed to hear. Sting wrote this song when his father died, but it helped me learn something about myself that I've never forgotten. So here I am singing Why Should I Cry.

Podcast episode 6

Sexy American Girlfriend and I discuss personal feminine grooming. Listen at your own risk. It's not pretty, folks.

Pictures and complaints

Here are some pictures I took at the karate tournament my husband and daughter competed in over the weekend.






Here are a couple of pictures of my daughter with Mookie that my husband took yesterday when the two of them went to visit our little puppy.




My brother and sister-in-law are in Argentina right now, so I pretty much hate them. My parents just came back from a cruise, so I pretty much hate them, too. Not really, but I'm jealous of everybody getting to go on cool vacations. Actually, the cruise was my mother's birthday present from my brother, sister and I, so I can't really complain about that one. But I am jealous that everyone but me seems to go away to distant lands. It's my own fault, I know. My brother and his wife don't have kids yet, so they're going to do as much traveling as they can before they start popping out the urchins. My sister and her family go traveling all the time. We never go anywhere. Part of it is money, but another part is that I think we don't have the money. We kind of don't, but I don't want to look back on my life wishing I'd done more stuff that I never got around to. You know, time really is short. OK, I'm going to keep my resolution this year and get those damn passports. I mean it.

Quick update

I've got a lot of stuff to take care of before my surgery on Thursday, so here's just a quick rundown of the weekend: My husband and daugther competed at their first taekwondo tournament over the weekend and they both brought home trophies, which is tres cool in my book. My daughter got two third place trophies in forms and sparring and my husband got a second place trophy in sparring. So, yay for the both of them. I'm the only one in my family who has to work today, so I'm kind of bummed that I miss out on all the fun. Uh, and I think that's it. K, bye.

Annie get your karaoke.

I love Annie Lennox and Eurhythmics. I think Annie Lennox hasn't gotten nearly the recognition she deserves for her talent. I don't think most people really understand what an incredible vocalist she is. I also like the fact that she seems like one tough broad who would just as soon kick your ass as say hello if your presence bothered her. Plus she'd stay elegant the entire time and barely break a sweat. That's my kind gal. I only got to see Eurhythmics once when I was in high school and lived in Utah. A friend of mine and I went to watch them in Park City. For some reason, though, we got bored about five songs into the concert and left. We learned the next morning, though, that the crowd had TOTALLY pissed off La Lennox and she swore she would never perform in Utah again. I don't know if she kept to that promise or not, but we were bummed that we missed all the drama. Ever since then, I've never left a concert early. Anyway, as I've mentioned, I'm running out of songs to sing off my karaoke mike, so I'm just singing to songs off my CDs now. I'm not using the vocal fade function on my stereo anymore because it cuts out too much of the music track, as well. So why don't you just close your eyes, reach out and pretend that you're holding onto a steering wheel--go ahead and move your hands back and forth, that's it--and just imagine we're in the car and you're listening to me sing to the radio. It'll be cool. I promise. So here I am singing Angel by Eurhythmics.

When it rains...

You know how the saying goes. I had my appointment with the orthopedic surgeon yesterday and it turns out that I totally blew my ACL. He pointed to a spot on the MRI film and said, "You see this little stump here?"

"Yes," I said.

"Well, that's what used to be your ACL," he explained.

Great. Anyway, I'm having surgery next Thursday to reconstruct the whole thing. But that's not really the thing weighing heavily on my mind right now. I got a phone call from my sister last night and my oldest nephew had a strange mole on his scalp that doctors think might be melanoma. To say the news was shocking is something of an understatment. The kid is only eleven, so the entire idea of him and cancer just sucks as much as anything can possibly suck. My brother-in-law (who's a plastic surgeon) already removed the patch, but they just sent the tissue to the Mayo Clinic to get a definitive diagnosis. Anyway, I'm going to ask all of you to pray real hard for him because he doesn't need something like this. Thanks in advance for sending any good vibes up to the big man.

Podcast follow up.

I just want to share some good advice Sexy American Girlfriend and I received from one brave soul who wrote in what he thinks constitutes good head, as we discussed in podcast episode 5.

Don't focus on the negative, but work on the positive. The men's tip/head is the most sensitive. The trick to a good bj is to use your hand(s) on the shaft and work the tip with your mouth...

So what do you think? Is that all the ladies really need to do? Is it as simple as that? Because if it is, that's good news for us women. Please feel free to chime in with your opinions on this very important issue.

In other news, we have gotten rid of all the animals in our house. We took the rabbit to his new owner this past Sunday. Now that's a load off.

Happy Smooch Day

Happy Valentine's. I hope everyone got something good from their sweetie. I got my ginormous box of candy, so I'm good. I was at the doctor's office all day yesterday having a stress test and other heart type tests taken. It wasn't fun. Not that anything was particularly hard or anything, it just took so damn long waiting around for them to go from one test to the next. On the cool side, I got to see an ultrasound of my heart beating. I could see the chambers and valves and everything. It was neat. You don't see something like that everyday. I've got my appointment with the orthopedic surgeon tomorrow to figure out what's going to happen with my knee. The doctor I'm seeing is the doctor in charge of orthopedics for the football team, so I suspect he'll know a thing or two about torn ACL's. If he doesn't, that's pretty damn sad. But seriously, it sounds like I'll be in good hands. I'll have to remember to shave my legs tomorrow morning. Speaking of shaving my legs, I couldn't take a shower this morning because I'm wearing this 24-hour heart monitor and you can't shower or bathe with it on, which sucks. They stuck this thing on me as I was walking out the doctor's office yesterday and told me not to shower and I said, "That's great. You get me all sweaty from jogging on the treadmill and then tell me I can't shower. Wonderful." Anyway, I old-schooled it and did the washcloth and water basin thing this morning. I don't really recommend that as a normal means of washing up. It sucks. According to my monitor timer, I've got 03:03:11 left until test completion.

Breaking news!

Hot off the presses are two new pictures of Puppy Mookie.

Five-Fingered Karaoke.

I can remember the first time I heard Alanis Morissette's You Oughta Know I thought, "Ooooh, there's an angry young girl. Good for her." I like Alanis Morissette just because. Here I am singing Hand In My Pocket. Enjoy.



Now that you've marveled at the wonder of me, feel free to buy me a new song chip so you won't be forced to continue to listen to me singing songs that are out of my range. There is a method to my madness, after all. Natch!

The news is in.

There was a message on my phone last night when I got home. The results from my MRI indicate I have a torn ACL. Here's what that looks like.



How bad a tear it is, I don't know. I'm in the process of setting up a referral with an orthopedist to determine how to treat my injury. Regardless, it'll be a while before I can resume normal activity and I'm pretty agitated about the entire thing because it sucks. I made the mistake of telling my husband about the message when I got to taekwondo class last night because he and the instructor said I couldn't take class if I have an ACL injury. I said I was fine on Monday, but they said I couldn't do class. That made me angry. I don't like being told what to do.

Podcast #5

We get into a little raunchy talk with this one. Enjoy, you pervs.

Stories that make me laugh everytime, Vol. 4, I think.

When my brother was a teenager and in high school he decided it was time to find himself a job. So, as many teens are wont to do, he headed over to the local mall to pick-up applications and find some work. As he walked around collecting applications from typical shops such as The Gap, Radio Shack, video stores, etc., he happened to notice that the Victoria's Secret store had a "help wanted" sign in the front window. Not one to pass up opportunity when it is pounding so loudly on the door, my brother walked in and up to the counter to ask the lovely lady standing there if he could fill out an application for the open position. She eyed him with more than a little consternation and said, "I don't think we can hire you."

To which my brother replied, "It's because I'm Korean, isn't it?"

With flustered embarrassment, the saleswoman immediately handed an application to my brother. He never did get an interview, though.

I'm injury-free.

Well, I finally managed to get through a taekwondo class without passing out or injuring myself. Life is good. I wrapped up my knee really tight and put on a brace. I nearly cut off the circulation from my leg, but I didn't get hurt. Next up is to try and do some jogging, but I'll probably wait until next week to add that to the repertoire. We were hoping to go visit the puppy this weekend, but I just heard back from the puppy lady and she's not open Sunday. Bummer. Guess we'll have to try for next weekend. Saturday is pretty full for us between karate and the Valentine's Dance my committee is throwing at the church. I don't know why the parishioners at my church are such losers, but they are. So far, we've only got about 40 people coming to the dance and that includes those of us on the committee. I don't even try anymore. I just go through the motions to set-up dinner and dancing. I don't put any extra energy into planning this thing anymore because the turnout is always so poor. It's going to be a good dinner, though. We're going to have lemon chicken, house salad, green bean amandine, rolls, red roasted potoatoes, and chocolate sin cake. If nothing else, it'll be a nice evening with my friends and husband. It would be better if we didn't have to stick around to clean up, but those are the breaks as Kurtis Blow likes to say.

Random bitch moment.

OK, this is what I hate: I hate it when strangers try to act like they know you. Case in point, I went to the cafeteria to get my lunch and ordered a special, which was grilled cheese and tomato soup (which is my favorite lunch of all time), but there were no grilled cheese sandwiches so the guy behind the counter had to grill one up for me. In the meantime, I went to get my soup. When I got back, he handed me my sandwich and I said thanks. Then he says to me, "Have a nice smile." So I smiled in acknowledgment of his comment while I put a lid on my sandwhich. Then he said, "What's wrong? You don't seem to be in a good mood today." Now, this kind of thing really pisses me because what I want to say is, "Bitch, do you know me? No, I don't think so. So how the fuck would you know if I'm in a good mood today or not. Just because I'm not batting my eyelashes at your sloppy, toothless grin doesn't mean I'm in a bad mood. I was in a perfectly good mood until you started acting like you know me." Instead, I said, "I'm in a neutral mood," then left to pay for my stuff.

Everyone was kung-fu fighting.

My daughter and husband graduated to their next belt level in taekwondo Friday night. Here are a couple of pictures of them.




I have another nice picture of the two of them with their instructor, but my husband looks like a duffus in it and he forbade me from posting it on the blog. That picture shows them with their new belts, but there you have it. I'm going to start up with the lessons again this evening. It's been four weeks since I hurt my knee and I'm going to wrap it really good and get back on the horse, as they say. I still haven't heard anything about the MRI I had a couple of weeks ago and I'm getting sick of waiting, so I'm exercising again. I've still got to be careful with I move, but I'm walking without a limp so I'm figuring it's healed up enough. Anyway, my husband bought a bunch of cold packs at the sporting goods store over the weekend because he thinks I'm going to reinjure myself, but no. I have no fear of pain.

More Madonna Karaoke

I know, I know. How many Madonna songs can I possibly sing? What can I say? Madonna is a very popular karaoke staple. Is it my fault that approximately 63.2% of the songs on my karaoke microphone are by Madonna? I think not. I think I'm going to start raiding my daughter's CD collection to come up with some fresh songs for you, which I'm sure you will appreciate very, very much. We were listening to Pokemon Christmas Bash this morning while we were brushing our teeth. Maybe I'll do a song from that outstanding album next week. You just never know what you're going to get. I think it's the suspense that keeps this enjoyable, don't you? Anyway, here I am singing Take a Bow by Madonna. Interesting side note, the guy that plays the matador in this video looks exactly like one of my husband's friends from DC. His name is Victor and he's a very nice guy.

Hot cross pets! Hot cross pets for sale!

Well, I have managed to relocate two of the pets. The chinchilla was immediately snatched up by one of the grad students I work with, and I have just learned that another graduate student is wanting the hamster. I think she also wanted the rabbit, but it seems that the rabbit was a no-go for the roommate. Not bad though, not bad at all. I think the rabbit knows something is up, though. I think he can sense that his time is short and he will soon be booted out of Eden, as it were. He looks at me forlornly with an accusing look in his eye. "You evil bitch," I can almost hear him think. "You evil, stinking bitch." Bet you didn't know rabbits could be so vicious, did you? Well, if you've ever seen The Holy Grail, then you'd know just how violent they can be when angered. I hate to break his poor, little bunny heart, but he'll forget us after the first day, I'm sure. We will fade like vapor from his simple, tiny brain.

Wow, Simon Cowell really is an ass.

Last night my daughter was not feeling well and went to bed really early. She was asleep by 6:30, so my husband and I decided to watch television because we usually cannot watch anything that doesn't involve Spongebob Squarepants or Pokemon. As we were flipping through the channels, we decided to give American Idol a shot. We've only ever watched one other episode of American Idol and it was the episode where Rueben Stoddard won the second season. We'd never seen any of the audition segments, so we thought it would be interesting to see what this Idol thing is all about.

Now, I've seen the press about how obnoxious Simon Cowell is and I understand that's his schtick and all, but that man is really an evil bastard. It's one thing to offer honest criticism to people who shouldn't get their hopes too high when envisioning a life in the spotlight, but it's something altogether different to try and crush people in the process. That man really seems to want to destroy people's sense of self-worth and I don't know why so many people tune in to watch him do it. Obviously, he doesn't care, but if I were one of the other judges, I'd basically tell Simon, "You're an ass." I'd tell him that every episode. I think it would be funny to just start off every sentence with, "You're an ass." And, of course, I'd tell all the contestants, "Now, you know Simon is an ass, but I don't think you're suited for this competition." Anyway, it does seem that majority rules with the judges' decisions, so I'm glad to know Simon's assiness doesn't necessarily mean a worthy contestant is booted out before he or she is given a chance.

Podcast #4

Here's episode four of Conversations with Korean Celt. I didn't post episode three last week because I don't want to make it too easy for you.

I don't get it.

I rented The Aristocrats over the weekend, mainly because I wanted to know what the joke was all about. I have to say it wasn't all that funny. I'm going to spoil it for you by telling you the joke, so if you don't want to know what it is, stop reading. Anyway, the basic joke is a guy walks into a talent agency and tells the agent that he's got an act that's going to blow off the agent's socks. So the agent asks, "What's your act." The guy then goes on to explain (and this is the part of the joke that depends entirely on how the joke-teller wants to embellish it) that the act consists of the man and his family going onstage, disrobing, shitting and pissing themselves all over the stage, sliding around in the mess, screwing each other, and whatever other depraved activity one can think of. The agent asks, "What do you call it?" and the man answers, "We call it The Aristocrats."

Everyone in the movie acknowledges that the joke itself is not funny, but that the fun is all in how the comedian tells the joke. I'm a great fan of questionable humor and I have to say the only time I laughed during the course of this movie was when Drew Carey said he always likes to deliver the punchline with a fancy flourish of the arms. For some reason, that was funny to me, but all the various gross-out things weren't funny to me. Probably because even the gross stuff didn't seem that particularly extreme to me, which is kind of a sad commentary when you think about it. Nothing is shocking anymore. Not even the idea of a family going onstage, pissing and shitting themselves while blowing mountain goats. What a shame. What a damn, sad shame.

Furry-Palmed Karaoke

When I was a kid in the '80s I liked Cyndi Lauper well enough, but she wasn't my favorite or anything. Why am I singing Cyndi Lauper today, then? Because I'm really starting to run out of songs from my karaoke microphone to sing for you and will soon be forced to buy a new song chip. However, I always did like this song because it's about masturbation. I think that's all I really need to say about that. Here is She Bop.

See what happens when you bad-mouth people?

I'm not saying my complaining yesterday had anything to do with it, but guess what was in my inbox this morning? Pictures of the new puppy and her parents, so here they are.






The first two pictures are Mookie, the third is mommy dog and the fourth is daddy dog. Isn't Mookie cute? Now my daughter will have a picture to tie her over until we get the dog. I bought a manicure set for a dollar this morning because I had to get some cash back to give to my daughter, who is going on a field trip today. Want to know what kind of manicure set you get for a buck? A crappy one, that's what. I'm just going to keep it in my desk at work for those hangnail emergencies that are always difficult to predict.

Ladies and gentlemen, we have a name.

And it's Mookie. That's the name my daughter has decided she will bestow upon her new puppy. It's an Ewok name I found off the Internet. I read a list of Ewok names off for her and Mookie was the winner. It's a cute name. Here's something that's kind of annoying me, though. When I first e-mailed the breeder expressing our interest in purchasing one of her dogs, she responded right away. She sent me directions, answered all my questions, etc. So, when we went out to her place on Saturday, she told us she could e-mail pictures to us as the weeks went by. We all thought that was pretty cool and readily accepted her offer to do so. I sent her a message on Monday asking for a picture because my daughter is about to bust out of her skin from excitement about this entire puppy business, and I still haven't gotten a response from the breeder. What do you think that's all about? My husband said her initial quick response was due to the fact that we represented money and now that we've given her a check, there's not as much urgency on her part. He's most likely right because I know all people care about in the end is money, but she seemed so sincere when she first said she'd send pictures. I'm kind of disappointed. But what are you going to do.

You might have noticed that I put up the second episode of my podcast yesterday. I'd like to announce that Conversastions with Korean Celt is now accessible through iTunes. Just go to http://phobos.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewPodcast?id=120105697&s=143441 and you'll be able to subscribe and everything. Which I know you want to do so badly you can taste it. Today podcasting, tomorrow the world. Mwaa, ha, ha.

Oh, my watch battery stopped today. That sucks.

Next podcast episode

Two months. How can I wait two months?

That's what my daughter has been asking about every ten seconds since Saturday. Why, do you ask? We put down a deposit on a puppy this past Saturday, but can't bring the puppy home for another ten weeks. That's why she keeps bemoaning the two months she must wait before she can start loving and playing with her new pet. We didn't go with the brussels griffon, in the end, but chose a shiffon which is a mix between an griffon and shih tzu. Here are a couple of pictures to give you an idea of what they look like.




We bought a dog collar yesterday in anticipation and my daughter has it safely tucked away in a special treasure box. Kids kill me.

Now I'm going to tell you about my momentary contact lens tragedy of yesterday. Somehow, while I was putting in my contacts yesterday morning before chuch, I failed to notice that my right lens didn't actually make it onto my eye. I put my left lens in when I noticed my right eye wasn't clear, so I tried adjusting my contact to make sure it was properly positioned on my eye. Imagine my surprise when I felt just my eyeball and no contact. That in and of itself wouldn't be so bad if I hadn't been simultaneously running the faucet at the time I tried to adjust my contact. I immediately realized I'd just probably washed my right contact lens down the drain. I got down on my hands and knee (because I still can't kneel on my injured knee) and couldn't find a thing. So, I was bummed. I was bummed because I was going to have to make an appointment to see the eye doctor and get new lenses and go through that entire hassle. However, thankfully, this morning when I woke up I remembered that I had an extra right contact lens in my medicine cabinet because it was left over from when I was testing fit on my contacts. So, I am now able to see sans glasses again. I am happy, and all is right with the world again.

Karaoke, Balboa style.

When I was a kid, Slyvester Stallone and the Rocky franchise were pretty hot. I'm not really a Rocky fan, but I sure did like watching Dolph Lundgren in his boxing shorts. I used to like saying, "I will break you," in a Russian accent. I still like to say, "I will break you," in a Russian accent because it's just fun. However, I actually think today's karaoke song comes from the Rocky movie with Mr. T. as the villian. It's hard to remember at this point. Here's a little trivia for you, though. Did you know that the song you're about to hear won an Oscar for best song? Incredible, isn't it. Anyway, here I am fighting and singing strong to Eye of the Tiger. Enjoy.

I've been beat.

After much begging and pleading, I have finally relented and agreed to let my daughter get a dog. However, before canine purchase takes place, I've insisted that she get rid of the rest of the pets in the house because I just can't deal with that many animals. So we'll be looking for good homes for the rabbit, chinchilla and hamster. We've decided to keep Fred and George, the parakeets, because they're pretty low maintenance and they're fun to watch. Once we've gotten the other animals into new homes, we'll start the search for the perfect pooch.

I want a small, non-shedding dog. I think I'd like us to get a brussels griffon because they fit the bill on both and are so darned cute it makes you want to puke. Just take a look at this face. Ooochie, cootchie, boobsie, ittle, witty cutie.



How could you not love a face like that. Some very preliminary Googles searches have located one breeder near our town, so I'll be checking it out to see what it's all about. I just hope I don't live to regret my acquiescence. Please, Lord, don't let me regret it.

First podcast.

I know you've been waiting for it, and the wait is now over. Here is my first podcast of Conversations with Kathleen.

One down, one to go.

Knocked out the EEG, only have the MRI left to go. This week, anyway. The EEG wasn't bad. I actually dozed off a little and the tech didn't detect anything unusual while she was monitoring the fierce electric currents coming off my brain. All I hope about the MRI is that they put me in a tube where my head gets to stick out because I don't know how I'll do shoved all the way into a potato chip can. Guess we'll find out.

I think my daugther has a crush on her taekwondo instructor. He's this 18- or 19-year-old kid, and he's really good with the kids in class. A couple of days ago she asked me if I thought he had a girlfriend and I said I have no idea but it's quite possible.

"But do you think he does?" she asked again.

"I really don't know, honey." I answered. "It's quite possible. He and Miss Mitchell (one of the other instructors) might be boyfriend and girlfriend for all I know."

"But do you think he's on the path to young love?" she inquired. (She really did ask that because that is how she talks. No lie.)

"Honey, I really don't know. Why are you asking, anyway?"

She responded by just sort of shrugging her shoulders. "Just curious."

And that was that. Last night, as we were driving to taekwondo, she asked if I thought her instructor's last name was weird. I said, "No, his last name is Irish."
Then she said her first name and his last name together and said, "Hmmmm, Irishy."

Although it's been some time, as I recall little girls only match up their first name with a boy's last name when they've got a crush. Maybe I'm wrong in this case. Who knows. But I will definitely be monitoring the situation. After all, ten years is a pretty big age difference.

Nothing like advance warning.

I have my EEG today to try and determine why I have been fainting or nearly fainting after twisting my ankle. I don't really know what to expect, so I just looked on the Internet to get an idea of what they are going to be doing to me. As I'm reading, I notice a list of things you're supposed to do in preparation for the exam. My doctor's office didn't tell me to do any of these things, so now I'm worried the test won't come out right. The preparation list states:

You will need to wash your hair the night before the test. Do not use any oils, sprays, or conditioner on your hair before this test.

--I washed my hair this morning. I didn't condition it because I was running late, but I did put on hair spray.

Your health care provider may want you to discontinue some medications before the test. Do not change or stop medications without first consulting your health care provider.

--They didn't tell me to not take any medications this morning.

You should avoid all foods containing caffeine for 8 hours before the test.

--I had my normal cup of coffee this morning

Sometimes it is necessary to sleep during the test, so you may be asked to reduce your sleep time the night before.

--They didn't tell me to deprive myself of sleep.

So what's going to happen now? People have to be more on the ball about stuff. I'm not going to reschedule because it's already a pain in the butt to diverge from the normal course of my day. I just won't say anything when I go in for the test. It'll be our little secret.

What to write about, what to write about?

I am finding I have nothing to say today. My husband and daugther have MLK day off and I don't, so that sucks major donkey balls. Other than that, I have nothing else to say. My knee is feeling a little better, but I still can't straighten it or move very quickly. I went to my first hockey game over the weekend. It was Notre Dame vs. Miami of Ohio. Notre Dame lost. Knowing nothing about hockey and can at least say that the Notre Dame team doesn't pass very well. Everytime one of the guys shot a puck to a team member, they missed. Well, probably not everytime, but it was pretty damn close to everytime. My friend and I made fun of this bitch who came up to us and said we were in her seat and she has season tickets so she should know. Oooooh, season tickets for a crappy hockey team. Oooooh, aren't you special? Ooooh. They weren't even her season tickets because my friend works in the athletic department and she knew that the seats the lady was using belong to another person in the athletic department, which means the bitch got the tickets from someone else. They were good seats, though. We were right behind a goal and everytime a puck hit the widow, I screamed. I mean, it makes a really loud noise when it hits and everytime it did, I was looking in some other direction so it always startled me.

Random Interjection

My knee is fucking killing me.

Karaoke Down Under

Back in the day before the Police was my favorite group, I much fancied Men at Work. I still like them a lot, but they were just no competition for Sting et al. in my mind. I had a massive crush on Colin Hay. All I'll say is that I was 13, and he seemed quirky and fun to me. I like quirky and fun, so sue me. Actually, he's not looking too bad, these days.



However, I will admit he's a little fruity looking here. Note to Colin: ix-nay on the uke and orange prison shirt.



So here I am (at my daugther's request) paying tribute to the band that was almost my favorite band by singing Land Down Under for your listening pleasure.

As a side note, I find it kind of funny that my daughter likes this song so much. I don't know why I find it funny considering that I like it a whole heck of a lot, too.

Continuing saga of the knee

Well, I went to my regular doctor yesterday so she could take a look at my knee and she thinks it's possible I may have torn some cartiledge. I'll be having an MRI next week to discover the true extent of damage. Hopefully, I haven't torn cartiledge. Hopefully, my knee can get back to good shape with just physical therapy. She also gave me crutches so I don't have to use the immobilizer anymore, which is good because I can already feel my knee getting stiff and using crutches makes it easier to sit down and things like that. I can, in fact, put weight on my leg now and I'm primarily using the crutch just in case. I think my dependence at this point is more psychological than anything else because I am really afraid of my knee giving out if I step down. However, the suckiness of this entire situation is still pretty sucky. I've never injured my knee before and I never imagined doing so could be such a pain in the posterior, in addition to the knee. I told my doctor that the good side note of all of this is that I never felt like I was going to pass out when I injured the knee, so that should indicate something good. She gave me a high-five when I told her that. I also have an EEG next week to try and pinpoint this fainting/near-fainting problem I seem to be experiencing. Having to go in for these tests is really screwing up my schedule, though. I don't know why taking care of these things can't be a little more convenient.

In fact, I'm apparently the world's biggest wuss.

Taekwondo class number two last night. Blown knee number one last night. I don't know what's going on with these injuries and all from taekwondo, but it's starting to piss me off. I never knew a bad landing could cause so much pain. Here is my poor gimpy leg.



They call this contraption the "Immobilizer." It sounds like the title for an Arnold Schwarzenegger movie. Anyway, I'm mad about the entire thing because I can't take class or jog until my knee heals. In the end, the doctor at the after hours walk-in diagnosed it as a sprain, but I've got to go to my normal doctor for follow-up. They took an x-ray last night and didn't see a break or anything, which is good. I've never injured my knee before, so this is all new to me.

When I landed from a number two jump kick, it felt like my knee joint popped out of the socket. It hurt like a mofo. I was lying on the mat and my husband and daughter came running over and I told everyone to finish the class. All I could was just lie there until the pain went away. Basically, this sucks.

I'm not the ass-kicker I thought I was

My husband and I had our first taekwondo lesson this past Saturday. My husband did surprisingly well. He finished the entire lesson. I, on the other hand, nearly passed out. I really almost passed out. We were doing a jumping exercised when my left ankle (which is the one I sprained last year) buckled and I fell. I got up and went back to the drill when I began to feel very light-headed. I sat down and realized I was on the verge of passing out because I started seeing starbursts, my hearing went out in my left ear and all the lights seemed really bright. The only reason I didn't pass out was because I sat down and put my head down before I had the chance. Anyway, I find it odd that I should nearly pass out after a similar sort of fall from the last time I passed out. I told my aunt about it and she said I should get checked for peripheral artery disease. I don't know what that is, but it seems obvious that if there's some sort of connection between me twisting my ankle and fainting, it started with the initial sprain. I'll call my doctor and find out if it's something I should be aware of. After I sat down for awhile and got my wits back, I finished out the class. I'm going to wear an ankle brace from now on. We have our next class tonight, so let's hope I can stay conscious for this one.

The odds of karaoke

So here we are back with another installment of Karaoke Friday, Friday, Friday. When I was in seventh or eighth grade, today's song was very, very popular. My sister sang it once as a solo for a choir concert. She did a good job as I remember, so now it's my turn to sing this song for one and all. I present me singing Against All Odds.

On a different note, my daugter has her first guitar lesson today. I think she's nervous. I'm basically forcing her to take the lessons because I don't think she's had enough of doing stuff for no other reason than because she just has to do it. She complained last night about how cruel I am and how I just don't understand her and all the rest of it. After she fell asleep I went down and told my husband I don't know what to with her. I hadn't figured on these kind of arguments until she was at least 13. I hate to admit it, but I think growing up really makes us forget how miserable we thought life was when we were kids. As much as we swore to ourselves we would never treat our kids the way our parents treated us, it all comes around to the same place. Life's funny.

And because it's Friday and the new year and all, I've got a very special two-fer treat for all of you today. As you may or may not recall, my Christmas gift to you a couple of weeks ago was my brilliant rendition of O Holy Night with Tracy Chapman, my home girl. Anyway, I've just come across a version of O Holy Night that is simply sublime. I've got nothing, I repeat NOTHING, on this guy, whoever he is. And I just want to share the love with all of you because you're beautiful and I would be nowhere without your love and support. So, please, enjoy this very special Christmas moment.

Snake on the run

My daughter's baby cornsnake escaped from his cage over the Christmas break. In fact, I discovered he was missing on Christmas Eve when my daughter asked me to get him out of the tank so she could hold him. Imagine my surprise when little Corny was nowhere to be found. What followed was a disappointing, half-hour search by everyone in the house. Everyone walked around with flashlights trying to see if we could find Corny. I knew was a lost cause, though. That snake is little and could be anywhere. I think he has to be dead by now because he was due for a feeding and he has no access to water. I can't imagine the little bugger has managed to survive. Needless to say, my daugther was very, very upset for about an hour. She cried and said Corny was her favorite pet and how would she go on without him. She asked for a new snake as soon as she stopped crying. I said no. Actually, I said, "Uh, yeah, no." And then I laughed derisively.

Call me Trinity

Over the holiday break, my husband and I basically paid up for our daugther to able to take taekwondo lessons for the rest of her natural life. Seriously, she can walk into any ATA location for the rest of her life and take lessons without having to pay. As a result, my husband and I also get taekwondo lessons for a year. We're supposed to start this month. If my uniform is in when I take my daugther to her lesson tonight, then I'm going to start today. I was a little peeved because the class right after my husband and I plunked down the money for our daugther's lifetime membership, they asked me if I wanted to pay up for all of my daugther's graduation fees. I said no. Actually, I said, "Uh, yeah, no." And then I laughed derisively. I said after having paid so much money, I was happy to pay the graduation fees as they came up from belt to belt. Anyway, I plan on taking full advantage of my year's lessons and these instructors better make me look like I jumped right out of The Matrix by this time next year. I'm not fooling. I better be able to kick some serious ass. But only in self-defense, of course. I'm not talking about anything retaliatory because that's not the taekwondo way.

Oh hey, check it. I discovered that I can use my new-fangled digital camera as a video recorder. Is that cool, or what? Yeah, it's totally cool. Here's my first guinea pig, my daughter.

Shy Girl

Happy New Year.

So real life comes crashing back with the force of a sledgehammer to the head. I really didn't want to wake up today, but I guess you can escape reality for only so long. Hope everyone had a good holiday break. I've got some things to do right now, so I'll be back in a little while to fill you in on what I've been up to for the last week and a half.

OK, I'm back. The most exciting thing to happen over break is that I got a digital camera from my mother and father for Christmas. Here I am showing my gratitude to them.



Actually, I'm bowing to them as a sign of respect. It's something my Korean family does every New Year's. All the kids bow to their parents and aunts and uncles, wish them a happy new year and get a wad of cash in return. I don't get money because I'm too old and I'm married and have my own family, but all the little kids get some greenback. My daughter made out pretty well this year. She made $170.

Anyway, back to the digital camera. So I've been taking lots of pictures with it and I'm pretty excited about it. My husband wants to use it to start posting things for sale on ebay. I'm still in the process of learning how to use it, but you'll probably start seeing more pictures up on the old blog from here on out. I'm going to try and master the candid shot so I can embarrass all my friends and family.

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.