HELLO FRIENDS. Hey, remember how I needed a nice, relaxing vacation because of how non-stop stressful my life has been? Ha. HA HA HA, said the universe. If it weren't for an AMAZING show and an even more AMAZING friend, I would have curled into a ball and rolled into traffic.

Here's the short version, which has no pep or zazz. Massive ice storm, Dallas was shut down, and I was trapped in the airport. Eventually got out to LA, had no luggage, had only the things on my back, and had a red carpet event to attend. Had a great time at said red carpet event, was with the best friend ever who didn't mind our vacation turning into a shopping for toiletries and underwear trip, came home and my eventually found luggage fell apart in my driveway and some of my brand new skin care products exploded. But I honestly enjoyed myself, when I wasn't curled into a ball, contemplating rolling into traffic. I really love [livejournal.com profile] flaming_muse a lot, and I'm incredibly grateful for the RIDICULOUSLY FABULOUS tickets for Trevor Live that she was able to secure. Like, I was sitting IN FRONT OF celebrities, my seats were so much better than most. <3

THE MUCH MORE ENTERTAINING READ, INCLUDING MY DESCENT INTO MADNESS AT DFW TERMINAL C )

Awesome: when I got out of the car at my house late yesterday, the whole top half of my suitcase fell off. AT LEAST IT HAPPENED WHEN I WAS HOME. (And hey, I ended up with new clothes and makeup, so...) I would like to state that I know I am very fortunate to be in a position in life where I CAN replace things from lost luggage. If I couldn't... I would have just flat out given up, walked into the ocean and taken a deep breath. Well, that would be the case if I also hadn't had my very own Miss Muse and her strong hand to hold onto. :)

And now I'm home, there's laundry and cleaning piled up, and I have story ideas to write. NOT TOO SHABBY. HEY GUYS HEY.
BUNDT LOVERS! Wait, come back!!

Ahaha, guys, I love big bundts and I cannot lie. YEAH. I'M OFFICIALLY REVERTING TO DAD HUMOR. But it's important! Williams-Sonoma has a Star of David bundt pan! THIS IS RELEVANT TO MY INTERESTS. Because I'm interested in making delicious cake for my Jewish friends, you see.

In other news, I have made 2 pounds (literally) of hummus today because apparently that is my favorite snack? Toasted bread with a thick schmear of hummus? NOM NOM.

I can't get anything done and so I online window shop. /pathetic

This post brought to you by a person hiding from Duck Dynasty playing in the other room. I DO NOT UNDERSTAND.
So I have three kids. And they each have seven courses in their school schedules. And each teacher has emailed me a "welcome to the new school year!" email, a "please read the syllabus and electronically sign HERE" email, and now I'm getting a flood of "what a terrific week we've had!" emails.

FROM TWENTY-ONE TEACHERS. Sixty-three! Sixty-three emails from their schools this week! And there is an automated phone call that comes from them weekly, too, from the principals. JFC. [ETA] I even get them from the P.E. teacher at the middle school. WHY DO I NEED UPDATES ON THIS. Trick question! I don't.

Remember when we were kids (people of my age) and parents didn't give a shit unless it was parent-teacher night? Wait, that was probably just my parents. I might be the only person you know of that had to forge signatures on their report card because my mother couldn't be bothered to sign. (And they were As!)

(And I would like to remind you that my mother also wore her wedding dress to my wedding. That story never gets old, man.)

I PLAN ON DRINKING TONIGHT.
Praise to Jeebus. Yes, I have seen it. I made my husband go with me. Best part of the movie was me leaving the theater. (A guy behind me said, "Thank god this thing is over," and I started laughing and almost high fived him until I saw the look on his lady's face.)

Recap of that and Glee coming soon, so keep your eyes peeled on HDJM. (Secret filter buds? There's a good update coming for y'all, too.) <3

To the writing machine!

Edited to add! Last week's Glee recap is HERE. (I have some questions for the general public about being "special" and the significance of Blaine being a "Teen Angel" over there.) Yesterday's will be up this evening.

AND TWILIGHT'S RECAP IS HERE. Spoiler Alert! I lol'd a lot. And gnashed my teeth a lot. Team It's Over!
up at 6:30, kids off to school
make bed, load of laundry
proof a 3500 word document on Hoarders, post
promote post on Tumblr, Twitter, FB
email key people on the show, ask for clarification on specific things
confirm car rental for weekend
out the door at 8:50am to get son
Ortho appt. for him
work out while son is getting braces off
drop him back off at school
make tea
prune rose by front door
prune sages while there
avoid grasshoppers
tell them they will rue the day
remember you made tea
shower
clean kitchen
put in next load of laundry
get papers organized for business meeting
remember you have cold tea
sweep dog hair before people come over
heat up tea
order lunch for meeting
reply to several emails/posts/comments
set out dishes, agendas, etc for meeting.

My day so far. Still have to: get tires checked, respond to more emails, schedule next week's meeting, outline a shooting schedule for three episodes, write episodes, organize memoir to send to FM, shop for something nice to wear on vacation, make sure all dr. appointments are organized for the week, pick up dry cleaning, figure out dinner.

HEY GUYS I STILL HAVE GARDENING TO DO, TOO. *falls over* Can someone send me a wife? Or a personal assistant? I don't care which.
MASSIVE PICSPAM. MASSIVE PICS. OF A MASSIVE HOLE IN THE EARTH. (And more!) It all starts with a drive to the airport with a sign that read Captain Sparklepants, complete with glitter effects... ~~~wavy lines of flashback!~~~ )

Aside from making her move here so we can do it all again, that is. :)
I really hated that show. I hate those "oh noes, we've gone from bad situation to worse, hurr!" stuff and why? BECAUSE IT HAPPENS IN MY LIFE. Exhibit A:

This morning I wake up, stagger to the kitchen, grab the coffee filter, and open the front door to let the dog out and dump the grounds into the garden, and all hell breaks loose. Everything in my house that could sound an alarm, does. I have three kids that stayed the night (6 kids total) and they all wake up terrified, crying, thinking the house is on fire.

Here's the thing: I don't have an alarm system. I mean, there's one that came with the house, but we don't have an alarm service. So there's no code I can enter, there's no tech support I can call to figure out how to disarm this. The dog starts howling, the cats are moaning, and the kids are yelling at one another. My husband is TOTALLY unhelpful (and is also over 1200 miles away.) I find the number for the alarm monitoring service on a placard that was put in a window by the original owners. That # now goes to a sex hotline.

I couldn't make this up if I tried.

I try disconnecting the fire alarms, no good. I go to the main power source for the alarm (*remember, the power is out on the block) and disable the main power line for the alarm. That makes a Klaxon warning siren sound to add to the fun. Tripping the breaker to that part of the house does nothing, btw.

After 15 minutes and random button pushing, it all goes off. The power comes back on. I guess that these two things are related.

Two hours pass. The power cuts out again (they're doing rolling blackouts to help distribute power up here) and it all goes off again. Oh my effing gee. I look up the panel online (I still have my good ol' iPhone) and see that there's a tech support #. Aaaaaand they're no longer in business. Of course. My son decides to go to the garage and get a new jug of milk which sets off ANOTHER alarm.

I unscrew the control panel by the front door and there is a HORNETS NEST IN THE WALL.

SERIOUSLY. I am not joking. I find a tiny eyeglass screw driver, unscrew EVERYTHING from the panel/motherboard and that one goes silent. I go to all of the other boxes and do the same thing. I should mention that I have vaulted ceilings, so I can't reach most of the fire alarms to turn them off, but they go silent when I go back to my closet and remove every single wire to the alarm panel.

If ever there was a reason to drink, this would be it. It's not even noon yet. There are supposed to be brown outs all day long. I hope I got all of the wires, good hell. (Oh and the older cat, Hope, pooped in her fright. OK, that's funny, even I can see that.)

SEND DRUGS. AND EAR PLUGS. AND WARM WEATHER. AND AN ELECTRICIAN. [ETA] Heard from one visiting child's parents just now that they had a similar situation happen with their smoke detectors. At 3am. And 5am. They disconnected the fire alarms to keep them from triggering, and have everyone on High Alert to monitor any smoke, etc. Good lord, what a mess.
Before I go off on the horrible, horrible living conditions (and mental state) of the people on Hoarders last night, I want to remind everyone that Southland - TNT's best show on air - comes back tonight. Check your local listings, watch watch watch. It's an outstanding drama, and it happens to be a cop drama written by/conceived by women. Awesome.

Anyway, let me tell you about how there is a booming business here in North Texas for repairing paint jobs that have been wrecked due to grackle poop. I live where the birds come for winter, so there are ridiculous flocks of noisy, poopy birds all winter long. Oh, delightful. And there's a lot of room here. A lot of birds pooping on your car hood, say, won't be pleasant, but the whole block won't stink to high heaven. You certainly wouldn't use your fingernail to chip it off your car, right? Nasty, RIGHT? We're all agreeing that bird poop is gross, gross stuff? Why, oh why don't all people think so? KILL IT. KILL IT WITH FIRE. By which I mean the hoarder, not the poor animals. Yeah, animals were hoarded, this won't end well, etc. etc. warning etc. )

TODAY I WILL CLEAN ALL THE THINGS. And today is tamale rolling day. Holy crow, my house smells like nothing but cumin. I think I'll need to air the house out, because I might get confused and think that's a dirty smell. GAH CLEAN ALL THE THINGS. ALL OF THEM. Lysol douches, anyone? (I just laid my head on my table and laughed at that.)

And because I'm sympathetic to those that read this, here is a palate cleanser for you. AHAHAHA, brb, laughing still. (Mar, I love your tumblr.)
Friday Night Light spoilers about Tim Riggins are all over my damn flist! Well there goes my enjoyment of catching the whole season now. >:(

GUYS. Some of us don't know where he is *cough*Iwontsaymoreforotherswhohaven'tbeenspoiled*cough* and don't appreciate finding out in recs, etc.

BOO.

Yeah, yeah, I know I'm behind on watching that show, but good lord. [ETA] I'm not talking about things behind a cut, because that would be my own fault. (I didn't want those awesome folks that are great about putting spoilers behind cuts to think I was being pissy about that, too, because that would be ridiculous of me.)

ION, Chicken lady on Hoarders tonight. My house will be SO CLEAN, OMG. 200 chickens. IN HER HOUSE. (Do y'all have any idea how damn filthy chickens are?) This might top that weird spoiled meat/raw meat eating family from Iowa you guys. I WILL REPORT ON THE MONSTROSITY TOMORROW.

...and yeah, I'm being spammy but that's because y'all aren't and this space needs to be used like your mom.
Last night I was at a Big Box retail electronics shop and look at what I saw on the shelf side by side!



Oh, that I bought both! Hee. (I got talked out of buying The Human Centipede by my husband.) I HAVE TO ADMIT I CAUGHT A THRILL SEEING MY MOVIE ON A STORE SHELF. Esp. since it was next to The Human Centipede, lol.

OK, exercise, doing away with chirrens, then getting gussied up for my high school reunion tonight. The helicopter is picking us up at 6. (LOL. BTW, I invented Post It Notes.)
Look. I get it. The vast majority of Americans see the Gulf States as the home of the Stupid People. The folks that say 'Merika. Bible belt, sister fucking, barefoot on dirty road morons. And hey, thanks for that generalization, by the way. Because I see everyone from the East Coast as a soulless, hateful, mafioso, and all of you West Coasters are crystal-loving, pot smoking hippies. Oh, wait, I don't think that. I get that a lot of these boards discussing the current oil disaster are filled with people that see all of the current horror as a theoretical discussion where it's this nebulous, far away place filled with people you don't like much, anyway.

But this is OUR HOME. This is where the food I feed my family comes from, for starters. There is a huge population of people that have relied on the waters to feed THEIR families and have never turned to the government for help, and now 80% of the fishermen (Vietnamese-Americans, mostly people who fled the war in the 60s and set up for a "better life" here) are devastated that they now HAVE to turn to the government for help. And guess how that affects everyone in the US? Let's not even discuss the horror show that is the marine life of the Gulf. Dolphins are washing up, bloated sacks of oil. They have literally become bags of oil. It's horrifying.

And I swear to the god of your choice, next time I see someone talk in theoretical terms and toss around ideas like "regulation won't change anything" I might have to choke someone. My husband worked in the O&G industry for a few years, my ex-husband's family was an oil family, and LET ME TELL YOU HOW THINGS CHANGED BECAUSE OF DEREGULATION. Because it's not good. And there are LOADS of suicides among oil workers, did you know that? No, you didn't, because they clamp that shit down. But it's pretty much known that you have to keep an eye on roughnecks after a certain period. Because they just... lose it. Those floating rigs are PALACES now to give those guys some kind of semblance of life while they're out there at sea.

I try to keep it light and playful around here for the most part, because we all have crap in our lives that bring us down. But PLEASE. If you're one of the types of folks that automatically writes off this region as filled with Bible Thumping, Incestuous Dummies, please remember THAT I LIVE HERE. And regardless of a person's outward appearance, we're HUMANS. Every goddamn one of us matters. Every freaking ANIMAL down here matters. Please. Stop insulting us with casual hand waves of stereotypical definitions. PLEASE. That kind of thinking led to Louisiana being left to its own devices and look where that got us!

Gulf Clean is an online forum for inventors to devise and share ways to clean up faster. They're awesome. Also, Wildlife Emergency is accepting donations to help catch animals and either clean them/give aid, or capture them and move them out of harm's way. They are also awesome.

In happier news, the BFF is flying in later to spend the weekend with us, then she and I and the kids are driving to FLAHrida (along the coast line, buying up anything being sold on roadside stands because it's now a lot of people's only source of income) to spend a week with the horses and to manatee watch/help in Wakulla Springs. The hope is that the oil spill won't get inside the river, and that's where the manatees will be hiding, waiting out this disaster. We'll be looking for ways to further assist in the disaster, too. I think it's going to be a great eye opener for my kids.

Thanks for letting me get that off my chest. See y'all in a week, be safe and good to each other!
Meaning those of you who grew up in the 80s like me. EH MEH GEHD, YEH GEHS. Sweet Valley High. Yes. YES. We are totally going to talk about the Wakefield Twins, poor little rich girl Lilah, Rapist-Porsche owner [same diff] Bruce and the hewl gang (lime green Triumph! blonde blue eyed size six perfection! French hair braids! Clips! perfect bf Todd! Jean jackets! nerdy glasses-wearing Enid!)

We're all close BFFs here, yes? OF COURSE WE ARE. So, I'm serious, you guys, guys? Guys. I'm so serious. I totally cried when I originally read #6, Dangerous Love, when you're led to believe SPOILER ALERT [lol] that Elizabeth and Todd DIE in a horrible motorcycle accident and Jessica totally loses it and cries because her TWIN IS DEAD, crie crie crie. But then Bruce drawls some cutting remark sexily while sprawling in terry cloth shorts on his Porsche, Lilah tosses her perfect mane of hair and looks bored and my world goes back to normal. ZOMG, if you tell the other girls about this, we are so not BFF anymore. Also, I was 12. Also, let's put Kassie's bra in the freezer, lol.

True story, when I was 13, I began my shoplifting career by stealing SVH books. OK, STOP. JUST STOP AND LET ME EXPLAIN. I had a hateful mother that didn't allow me any cash to buy books. Did I want to buy eight balls and bail out my boyfriend with the cash? No. Did I want to buy ridiculous purple flats with a big glittery flower on the toe like my sister did with HER money? No. I WANTED BOOKS. And no one would take me to the library in the summertime, so what is a nerdy girl in huge face-covering glasses and feathered hair to do? She goes into Waldenbooks and knocks four or five SVHs in her shopping bag, that's what she does. And then tosses in the Caitlin trilogy for good measure. I WAS A SAD, ABUSED CHILD, OK? (Do you know how much repenting I had to do for that? LOTS, ALRIGHT? Mormon Jesus was seriously mad at me for that and made my parents divorce because of my sins.)

Look. I have a 13 year old daughter now. And I wanted her to be vapid and needy like I was so I could work through my own things, a sort of stretch-mark induced therapy if you will. And you will. [I never get tired of my little joke there, I CAN'T HELP IT.] And yet she's all reading intellectual things, or classic literature, or the Gossip series, or whatever the latest thing is that deals with boobs and sex, but in a safe, teen environment. She won't GET the books and let me steal them while she sleeps. DAMN IT.

I say all of this because I found on THIS AWESOME WEBSITE a snarky breakdown of a lot of the books. And then I find out there are over 180 in the ORIGINAL series. Oh my god, how is that possible? Are some of them about how Jessica was given a shopping list by her mom (also blonde, fit from tennis, happy in their split level California house <-- I remember all of that because I am a dork) and she LOSES IT, YOU GUYS, and then her older brother Stephen, home from college over the weekend, has to make a Really Important Decision about a problem with his roommate, Elizabeth writes it all up for the school newspaper, Enid pushes her glasses up on her nose, Lilah goes shopping, and then Jessica finds the list? THE END. UNTIL BOOK 185. Wow.

...there might be a series of posts of fake book plots coming your way. I LIKE TO DO THAT STUFF, SUE ME. Well, don't, because that would be mean.

I don't want to take apart all of the fans and wash them, why do you ask? (omg, being in the cleanest, prettiest house this past weekend is making me hate my house and see filth every where. By which I retaliate by posting about books I read 20+ years ago, eh meh gehd.) Also, I totally loved those books. And I really don't want to clean right now. *scale hands* OH. And yes, I know Diablo Lame Cody is writing a screenplay for a movie adaption of SVH. And I know the vid to Mormon Jesus. Just sparing you the linkage, if you wanted to inform. :)

[ETA for OMG Factor] Oh, hey. Here are 32 of the books for sale. Is it bad to want this? Or to want them in eReader format? or to want someone to get me a hook up?

[ETA 2 - book cover!] Oh my god, I thought they were so beautiful, you guys. )
See? I'm not the only one that thinks you should dress up a touch for a wedding. That's gratifying. :) I for one am ready for the pendulum to swing back to dressing for the occasion. I don't want to go to "touch up your lipstick and don't bother your man when he gets home from work" days, just, I love dressing up.

Speaking of, I'm going to put on some waders, pasties with tassels, and a top hat and go to church today. It's what Emily Post would want, you guys.

I also have to finish cleaning house, start the laundry, vacuum/clean my car, bake 2 dozen cupcakes, finish prep for my daughter's birthday, and get us all packed to go out of town for Memorial Day weekend. Meanwhile, this book won't read itself... NO. I NEED TO BE GOOD. but I'll probably lame out later and sit and read....

Just on my iPod? "Oh. My. God, Becky, look at her butt, it is so big!" I LIKE BIG BUTTS AND I CANNOT LIE. <-- Sal, that's for you, toots. :) LA face with the Oakland booty, yo.
I don't know if I'm crossing the streams here [Ray EGON says that would be bad] but if you've not seen that Diana Gabaldon is all hemhem "Stop writing fanfic about my characters [Outlander series] because that's like writing porn about my daughter and mailing it to me." Also, this literati uses the word "barf." Just like Cormac McCarthy. [Wank report link.]

OK, WHAT. 1) No, it isn't. 2) WTF? 3) Who is mailing you porny fanfic? Ok, there probably is someone doing that, and making Jamie into a unicorms and Claire into a red dragon [DO YOU SEE?] and they have dragoncorm humpings and then Jamie has a baby from his special magical womb, BUT DON'T SEND THAT TO THE CREATOR, DUMMY. You ask them to autograph that picture at book signings, am I right? Lol. No, please don't do that, weirdo.

But my FAVORITE part of all of this wank is how it's the PORN/SEX/HUMPINGS that is bothering her. Because for those of us that have read the books (I stopped at 5, gah, TOO MUCH PLANT TALK. FOR ME. What does that tell you?) every day is Hump Day! Good hell. They have sex every few pages! And then she has some SERIOUSLY purple prose with back hair glistening with dew like a wet autumn sunrise, and how many ways can you describe red hair, woman? "Like a box of crayons, the back level of the 64 pack, spilled across the floor, that was the range of reds to burnt umbers of Jamie's man pelt." LOL.

Also, her books are totally rapetastic, in that everyone gets rapes like they're passing them out at a car dealership, she suffers from Anne Rice-dom in that she needs to cut her words in HALF [huge books. HUGE.] and it reads like a 200+ chapter fanfic. I MEAN, WHAT. Are her characters interesting? Yes. Plus she has messy/doesn't work right all the time sex in her stories which is a big plus for me (it's real, I like real) but she also wants you to know that She Did Her Research. And it's lots and lots of data about plant life and how to make your own penicillin, and homeopathic this and that, and a reminder of such and such events, all with a thiiiiin plot stringing the data together.

I summed up the books to Kassie in her journal last night, and thought I'd reprint them here to spare her inbox. WHO WANTS SOME DISTILLED CRACK?

A time traveling nurse meets a red headed Scotsman, in case you Dinna Ken gaelic gaelic random understandings of paganism plant names historical insert blah )

Just, if you are so invested in stories you write that you compare fanfic to someone telling you they want to rape your real daughter or seduce your actual living husband, YOU HAVE EXPOSED YOURSELF FOR A MARY SUE. HEMHEM (Um, her husband? Tall red head. Same with her daughter. I'm just saying.) Also, you're a bit of a crackpot, Diana. She's been around the internet since the Compuserve days, too, so this CANNOT be new to her. Roll your eyes and keep writing like Charlaine Harris does, lady. SPEAKING OF: TODAY THERE IS MOAR ERIC. Shut it, I can't help that I imagine Askars when I read her books. It's like Charlaiine is writing fanfiction of True Blood, LOL x A MILLION.

Welcome to the world of a genre fic writer, lady. It's a COMPLIMENT. They aren't making money (or they shouldn't be, I'll agree with you on that. Adopt Jim Butcher's philosophy.) Or read this and realize how Dee You Em your allegations are.

LASTLY: I am making more tamales today and tomorrow because all the ones I made on New Years done got et. OM NOM NOM.

[ETA] Someone in West Texas needs some help/info, if you can, please do!
I don't know if y'all are aware of this, but I have a medical condition known as "flying into a Royal Snit when provoked." I usually medicate myself with copious amounts of minty-rum beverages, per doctor's orders. (Dr. Spaceman.) Current provocation: my son's history teacher who so visibly hates my child, it's a wonder she hasn't woken up tasting my arm pit, due to me jamming my fist down her throat.

Here's the current sitch: she emails me her agenda every week. Twice. Which, that's fine. I guess. Once is sufficient, but hey, I'm just a stay at home mom, right? Anyhoodle, Buttface Giant (as I call her) makes my son call me every time he a) fails to complete an assignment, b) fails to bring in the red folder that assignments are to be carried in, c) bothers her in some fashion. And he's called me twice in a row before because she didn't believe he was speaking to me on the phone. (She is not an old biddy, either, but in her early 30s.)

Friday they were assigned to memorize a "history rap" that she concocted. Every day they are to write down from memory a few stanzas. My son doesn't learn from rote, at all. "Why, just sing it, Stoney!" you might be saying. And then I would counter with, "I've told him to, because the child is FOURTEEN YEARS OLD, AND I'VE ALREADY GONE TO SCHOOL.'" There's only so much behind-powdering a parent can (and should) do.

Today I get an email wanting to know if I even got her email about the project (and my husband REPLIED TO HER from said email, so....) and to inform me that my son is failing at yet another aspect of her class. Here's my email, saved in draft, and this is where you come in. To be noted: he is not failing, he has a high C. The child has never missed a question on his standardized tests. Ever. The boy is not stupid, in other words. He just has learning differences (OH. AND GUESS WHO HAS NEVER COME TO AN ARD MEETING?)

[ETA] The full email is under the cut (I added to it) and I hit send. And CC'd the Principal and my son's special ed Team Leader. Dear Buttface Giant, Esquire: )
I found my journal from my first year in college. In Mormon Utah. You know that picture that I want to be on the cover of my memoir/book? I just found where those two missionaries had written their names into my journal.

What the ever loving-

Like, they must have seen it on my desk in my dorm room (that's where that picture is from), taken it, and put their names and info in my FREAKING JOURNAL. Wow.

Also, I am completely embarrassed by my self-professed bravado and almost slavish dedication to my faith. I describe the attractive attributes of boys as them having "really strong spirits and testimonies." I was 20! I should have been checking out hot asses! And when guys chastened me with their superior intellect in all things spiritual, I called them "awesome studs" and remarked about "how much I have yet to learn."

GOOD GOD. Wow. I've, uh, come a long way since then. O_O

[ETA] OH HAIL NAW. I referred to this one boy as my JOHNNY LINGO. I could die. Never doubt that I was hard core LDS, haters. :(
St. Nick, a lovely film that I'm in (briefly - it's about my "children" not the parents) is showing this weekend in Grand Junction, CO for those nearby. It's won all manner of awards, and I'm so proud of it, regardless of my involvement. The kids that star are simply wonderful. For cinephiles this is a treat for the eyes, too. My buddy Clay was the cinematographer and it's just gorgeous.

My inbox has been inundated with replies to my foreign coin request for my son. I can't tell you how much it means to me that veritable strangers (all of the lurkers!! All of the people that saw the post on friendsfriends!) are so willing to give a boy they've never met a birthday to remember. It's just... it's hard for to me be sarcastic (my usual default) when there really are such lovely people in the world. Truly, thank you. At last count, and I've not added all of the emails from the last 12 hours, I have over 60 offers.

ETA I think I'll call off the hunt at this point. I have every continent represented, minus Antarctica. (And if any of you are out there on the icy wastelands of beauty and want to send something along, well, I sure won't stop you. *G*) Thank you so much for your generosity, it'll take me a few days to sort through addresses and get organized. You're WONDERFUL people!

!!! a beginning list of the countries represented under the cut )

I'm going to need to spend the next few days getting things organized and then I'll start sending out mailers. (And I know I'll run into some hiccups, I'll keep you posted, for those wanting to play along.) I also had the (to me) great idea of buying one of those old school globes that we had in the classroom, put a hole with a rubber stopper at the bottom and a coin slot in the top for him to keep them all in. We can put little flags on the countries where we've collected coins, too. I AM SO EXCITED ABOUT THIS. :D (Even better would be to find a glass globe coin bank, but I can't imagine that's easy. But then, I've not looked.)

I also realized that I have some serious balls asking people for money (essentially) after mocking the recent wank about the con that swindled people out of money. THIS IS DIFFERENT, I SWEAR. Don't send the internet police after me, please. Hee.

(And to those of you that left me little love notes, I just love you to bits. Seriously, I can no longer be my snarky self when there is too much SWEETNESS and AWESOMENESS in the world. <3 But I'm sure I'll get called a jerk for mocking Bella/Edward and all will go back to normal. LOL. Sincerely, thank you.)

Lastly, it was frickin' freezing, Mr. Bigglesworth, this morning and Sally Derg could not WAIT to get out in it. That thick fur coat is finally a boon, she's thinking. We get outside and she started running in circles and figure eights, panting and pouncing and filled with doggy joy. Then she stopped stock still, grinned at me (whatever, dogs TOTALLY grin, and we all know it) then walked over, sat and looked up at me waiting for me to put her leash on. LOL. Dogs are rad.
I would like to talk to someone, anyone, about my newest obsession. I am a college-educated woman who strives for intelligence (mostly) and likes feeling like I'm a fairly smart person. I can still solve derivatives, figure out probabilities (on the craps table - always put money on 4 and 10, they're the next most common after 7. 5 and 9 are next, then 6 and 8. 2 and 12 are the hardest to get), and I've still never forgotten the inherent differences of meiosis vs. mitosis and can diagram the multi-step process.

However.

I have a new television show that I simply MUST watch, even though I know that brain cells are being killed off by the hundreds with every passing minute. Of course, I'm talking about the new reality show, "Jersey Shore."

We's pumpin' our fists like CHAMPS! House music, girls, it's the Jersey Shore! (aka Sho-ah) Warning: abuse of local color under the cut. )

If there's anything I've learned about myself from this show, it's that I don't use nearly enough chapstick. I also just deleted a whole paragraph about last night's Hoarders ep, so you're welcome. *shudder*

I'm diving back into the world of the memoir now. I feel like I need to add the story of the crazy polygamist man, who had been kicked out of the community, who courted me at my job as a fry cook at a bowling alley. By writing me epic poems about my grilled ham and cheese. I wish I was making that up. And that I could remember the 5 minute long poem...

(Also: it seems I'm not getting comment notifications, so I'm not ignoring you. Well, I'm ignoring YOU, you know who you are, but not YOU.)

[ETA] It seems I'm being credited with creating the term Sparkle Peen on UrbanDictionary. Uh... did I? LOL. I'm so internet famous, you guyz. Ahahahaha. My father will be so proud.
Some of you may remember that I put my office furniture up on Craigslist so I can re-do it in a manner of a lounge. I got a hit from someone yesterday that only wanted specific pieces, could they just have those, can they come see it, etc. After 14 messages later [oy] where they told me their whole schedule for work, dinner plans, etc. they finally came by and dithered over them. Then while the husband started an argument with the wife about how she always buys "crap" the mother interrupted that to tell me all about her daughter getting "knocked up" and not going to college, not even waiting long after graduation to "do it" and the "baby daddy" was in the car not helping them decide what to buy and maybe he wouldn't "get off his ass" to help them carry it to the car, etc.

Oh, the daughter was there. Standing right there with us. So I gracefully excused myself "to let them come to a decision" and they start going through my books. So I gracefully entered my office and engaged them so they would leave my things alone. Then the mother told me about how she hates DELL computers, because they suck. I have a Dell, prominently on display. Which, she points out, is why she wanted to mention it to me.

I JUST DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT, you guys. Why am I that person that attracts the crazies? Why do I have to be "nice" and make people feel like they can tell me their problems and show me their weird moles? I don't want to see your weird mole, YES you should go to the doctor, OH MY GOD. Yo lo creo. No me gusta!! [These people did not, in fact, show me moles. I have had people do that before, however.]

They did buy the furniture, they took their time getting it out, and as soon as the door was shut, I locked the door and let them figure it out from there. (They moved it off to the porch.)

Sometimes we all need reminders (me, included.) Everything happening in your life isn't important. Everything happening in your family's life isn't meant for public consumption. Arguing in public is awful. Insulting (even jokingly) your spouse or child in public (especially) is rotten. It makes everyone want to run away from you. Or it makes me question why I let you in my house and wonder how quickly I can get rid of you. I'm just saying. I've written up some "helpful rules" that maybe need a refresher for some folks. LOL.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get ready for a massage so I can blog about that and then later about my boogers and why my kids and husband suck. Because I'm the exception. Ahahahaha. WHEE IT'S FRIDAY!!
1. I've been pretending that there are fwoomp tubes (technically called pneumatic tubes, but I prefer my moniker) that shoot food to those I love (or ME, which technically falls in the same category, har) and THERE USED TO BE FOOD FWOOMP TUBES! Oh, Science, why can't we go back to the glory days?!
2. If you have a "bucket list," you're going to need to get everything crossed off by September because Tom Hanks will be flipping the power switch to Cern's Large Hadron Collider. This has a Steven Spielberg disaster movie written all over it. We're going to need a bigger boat earth. I don't have too many problems with ol' Hanks, but... why him? Why not, say, the awesome Honda Robot to signify the taking over of earth by Cyberdyne's renegade machines the wave of the future? And now I have "Kick boxing? Sport of the future?" in my head, which isn't a bad thing. This is my brain on drugs. Drugs = oatmeal and coffee.
3. I am getting everything organized before my surgery on Monday morning as a) my husband will be out of town on business b) there are many things going on with the kids and c) my sister is coming up to take care of things for a few days while I ride the white pony. I mean, while I recoup.

Oh, who am I kidding? I'm not having "medically necessary nasal surgery," I'm going to rehab. All that coke did its number on me.* Plus, I'm getting elective plastic surgery. Things I'm getting tweaked:

  • breast implants, but for my shoulder blades. I'll never need a pillow again!
  • knife inserts under my fingernails - not for fighting evil, but for package/mail opening ease
  • a sympathy ridge between my eyes - I won't have to actually care about things, but I'll look like I care. [taps temple] Time saver de-luxe.
  • tracheotomy - I wanna scare my kids straight about smoking. I'll have to take up smoking, but it'll be worth it, right?
  • liposuction, but only on the backs of my knees. If you can't see the veins when the swelling has gone down, then I won't feel thin.
  • extra liver so I can drink more. Party at my place, whooo!
  • dental implants in the form of saber-teeth. I'm bringing it back Pleistocene style!


Feel free to offer up suggestions for body additions/subtractions while I'm getting everything for the low low rate of my after deductible costs. :D After today I'll be radio silent for a while, so if any of you are coming over here from my Twilight posts (there's been a rash of comments there again) I don't care that you love those books. Go crazy nuts. Just not here. :)

* I am being sarcastic.

[ETA] I think I'm going to ask for the Jocelyn Widlenstein treatment, but I'll ask for a bull dog's mug so she and I can fight on Pay Per View!

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