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.