Sunday, February 28, 2010

Some observations on men's ice hockey

I just finished watching the U.S/Canada gold medal game in the Olympics. (BTW, congrats, Canada, good game.) Anyway, I was struck by a few things while watching. I'm used to watching either Pee Wee boys, or 10 year old girls play, and men play quite differently. First of all, it's a lot faster. In fact, so fast that I had a lot of trouble following the puck. This makes the play by play by the announcers all the more impressive. Their brains work so fast! They must be geniuses. (I'm serious)

Another thing is that none of them wear face masks which makes me think that men think it's cool to lose teeth. Hey guys, it's not that cool. I see that they wear mouth guards, but that is not going to prevent a puck that's going 100 mph from smashing through all of your front teeth.

There was also a lot of spitting. More spitting than I've seen in any other sport. Why are they spitting so much? No wonder they are so thirsty. You never see a figure skater spitting on the ice. Maybe that's why they don't wear facemasks, in order to have more spitting freedom.

My last observation was that they are constantly racing from one side of the rink to the other. That has to be tiring. Why don't they pick a position and stick with it? My friend Tonya did this in gym class and she was the all-time highest gym-sport scorer in the history of FHS (this is a totally anecdotal guess on my part. I don't think anyone actually keeps those statistics.) She would stand right next to the goal and wait. Usually the goalie was Joe, who was the star hockey goalie on the school team. I bet Tonya made more goals on him than any single other person.

Here's Joe and Tonya in their soccer positions:

Here they are in their floor hockey positions:
Here they are in their ice hockey positions:
Here's Tonya making a goal in soccer:
Here's Joe's reaction to it:

He has just jumped onto the chain length fence that surrounds the field and is shaking it to get his rage out at being scored on by Tonya for the 500th time.

Here he is after she scored on him during ice hockey:

He's hanging off the boards and shaking them and screaming. Tonya made more goals than anyone, her team never lost and she never broke a sweat running around like a fool. I hope she got good grades in gym.

Saturday, February 27, 2010

It's spring now

I decided today that winter is over, which I know, is setting myself up for disappointment and cabin fever, but why not? I put away all the stupid decorative snowmen that were SO CUTE in December but have been annoying me constantly lately. I took out the Easter stuff. I don't have much, just a few bunnies mostly, but I have this carrot candle in a pot that makes me slightly uncomfortable.

Seems too phallic, but that's what spring is all about, right? RIGHT??? The season of penises.

I also planted my future garden. Here it is.

So far it's two varieties of tomatoes and two varieties of peppers. One is jalapenos, and I don't know why I bothered planting them because ketchup is too hot for us sometimes, and I even have to be careful about what kind of toothpaste I buy because if I get anything too wild the kids say it's too "spicy" and they try to squeeze the dregs out of the old Pepsodent tube until I relent and get something boring and plain.

Happy Spring, my internet peeps!

Thursday, February 25, 2010

What's going on

I'm watching the Olympics again tonite and to tell you the truth, I'm getting a little sick of it. Sorry, America, sorry World.

Kira's class has been doing a unit on the physics of sound, so their culminating project is to make a musical instrument of their own using what they know. Mitch and Kira have been working on hers tonite. She calls it "the Snowflake." Here it is:

When Mitch was showing it to me he said, "Ding Dong, here it is!" which is a horrible (horribly funny) reference to something we saw on the internet years ago. Here's the link. Enjoy!

Here's Sam:

Here's some flowers:


Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Move over Scott Hamilton!

Our Olympic ice dancing dreams may be dead, but now Mitch and I have a new dream: ice skating commentators. We are surprisingly well-versed on the sport for only watching it for two weeks every four years. Here's some of our conversations:

Mitch: I don't think Mao should do the triple axle double toe loop combo because Yu Na is doing a triple triple and that is more points. Mao should just go for the points.

Me: Agreed!

And during ice dancing finals:

Me: I think that Jana Novitski's costumes are always colored and Sergei Khokhlova's are always black because she's the stronger skater, and the colors on her draws your eye to her instead of him.

Mitch: Scott Hamilton said the same thing 30 seconds ago. And you were sitting right here.


How much Advil is too much Advil?

I don't know yet, I'll let you know when I hit the overdose wall. I've been having jaw pain for about the last two weeks because of my impacted wisdom teeth. The two on the bottom are in and have been in for years but they keep moving around. Of the two on the top, one came in about 18 years ago and was pulled because it didn't fit in with my other teeth, meaning I literally couldn't shut my mouth so if I wanted to talk or chew I had to have it pulled. The other upper wisdom tooth is hung up behind my last molar (I saw it on an x-ray) and I was hoping it would just stay there forever and never move. It's moving. I think it's growing sideways and pushing the roots of all my teeth together which is super duper painful!

I know what your thinking, you're thinking 'Why the hell do I continue to read about someone's wisdom teeth problems? Gross and who cares?' and you're also thinking, 'Hey dummy, just go to the dentist and have them taken out.' (don't call me dummy)

That's easy for you to think because you obviously aren't as afraid of that whole procedure as I am. First of all, I'm afraid of surgery in general. Anesthesia scares me because what if it just paralyzes me and I am still conscious and can feel everything? What if it just kills me? Secondly, this is surgery on my HEAD. I live in my head and like it just the way it is and don't want anyone messing with it. Thirdly, it's bone surgery - ew! bone surgery! and fourthly they will be doing all of this through my MOUTH. They will be stretching my jaw and peeling back my lips and cutting through my gums in order to dig through my skull to get out a tooth that is lodged right next to my sinuses and ear canal.

I'd rather have a colonoscopy. I'd rather have an abortion. I'd rather both of those things on the same day because for me, they would be less invasive and less traumatic. In fact, if I could solve my jaw problems by having a colonoscopy and an abortion, I think I might do it.

And finally, I don't have health insurance. We had MinnesotaCare insurance before which is the state public insurance, (which is a hell of a lot more than most states have), but they kicked us off (as they do every year) so I re-applied in July and between their slow processing and their constant need for more information, the application still hasn't been processed. So until that happens, no jaw surgery, no colonoscopies and no abortions. I faxed in what will hopefully be the last piece of information they will need today, and was promised that our case will be expedited so perhaps I can see someone about this tooth before it pops through my palate, or sinus cavity, or eyeball.

I know what you're thinking now, 'OMG, why don't you have health insurance? Are you poor? You are such a terrible parent!' Oh, hang on, don't get judgemental, stick with me here: No, technically not poor, but we have a small business and to get private insurance we would have to pay around $600 a month (that was about 8 years ago, I'm sure it's way more now) just in premiums, with a huge deductible for any health expenses we incurred. We are four healthy people who incur about $400 total in health expenses all year long, so it would be stupid, not to mention financially impossible to pay a health insurer $7500 a year on top of the $400 we pay in health care costs anyway.

'But,' you say, 'what about a catastrophic event, or even a non-catastrophic but expensive event like jaw surgery?' Exactly. Now you see where I'm at! The way private insurers work, getting the coverage you paid for is like squeezing gold coins out of Scrooge McDuck. (actually, I think if you squeeze Scrooge McDuck, gold coins do pop out here and there.) Heck, if they paid all their claims they wouldn't have enough left over for advertising and swag! I'm sure my tooth, for example, would be considered a pre-existing condition, since it's been there since I was born.

MinnesotaCare is a really good program. It has a large group of people, so the premiums are kept moderately low and when they say you're covered, you're covered. The tricky part is getting on it (the application process is a bitch) and staying on it (you have to reapply every year). THIS IS WHY WE NEED A SINGLE PAYER HEALTH CARE PROGRAM LIKE CANADA, GODDAMMIT! Okay, sorry, sorry about that. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10... I'm calm now. Breathe breathe.... okay.

I have a consultation with an oral surgeon on the 5th so I hope the insurance application is processed before then, but if not, it's all out-of-pocket. Which is still cheaper than private insurance.

Now you're wishing me the best of luck and hoping I don't overdose on Advil, and begging me to please, never EVER write about my teeth problems again. Well, I can't make any promises about that! You want to know how this whole thing plays out don't you? You want to see a picture of what a tooth looks like punched through the roof of someone's mouth, don't you? If it wasn't me, I'd want to see that picture! You're so sweet! Thanks! It's been nice having this little chat with you!

Sunday, February 21, 2010


Go Team Go! (no, please, don't go)

We are right now at this very moment getting ready for Sam's (hopefully) last hockey game. They are in the playoffs and are a pretty good team. They are playing a team today that beat them 11 to 3 earlier in the season, so I am hoping with every fiber of my being that they get beaten today, (does that sound awful?) because if they don't get beaten today, they have a very good chance of going to the State Tournament which would mean a few weeks more of hockey and a(nother) weekend-long out-of-town tournament. I am willing to do just about anything to avoid that after watching 30,000 games, driving 110,000 miles to and from practices, and dealing with my nemesis.

I am thinking of hobbling their one and only goalie. I don't want to do it because he is the sweetest kid in the world, but he's a very good goalie. If someone were to give him a minor, totally non-permanent injury that would necessitate him wearing an eye patch for the next week or so, that would be perfect. "But Coach, I thought the puck was ten feet away and then it just went in! I don't know what happened!"


Friday, February 19, 2010

I love ice dancing so much

I forgot how much I love it. It's so pretty just watching people skate together so well without having to worry about the girl getting thrown thirty feet across the ice and landing on her face. When I was looking for pictures of ice dancing I saw that it can be a little risque. I realized that this may be the only sport that a person could legitimately say that they accidentally had sex with their partner during their routine.

When I downloaded this picture the caption for it was "icedancingfilth.jpg"

This one is just weird. How do you end up in that position from a dance? Or get into a dance from this position. I hope this pair is in the Olympics so I can see it for myself.

This picture is from a new event called "Ice Dancing Gynecological Exams."

Chapped Tongue

Kira's tongue is chapped. She showed me a little cut on the surface of it and asked me how that could have happened. I asked her if she sleeps with her mouth open. She said, "How am I supposed to know that?" So I asked her if her mouth is dry when she wakes up. She said, "Oh yeah! My tongue is so dry it doesn't even feel like it's part of my body!" (gross)

Last night she came downstairs and asked Mitch and me what it was that she was going to remember to do. We didn't know what she was talking about and then she said, "Oh yeah, I'm going to sleep with my mouth shut," and then she went upstairs to bed.

I asked her this morning if her tongue was dry again. It was. Tonite she is going to wear an elastic headband over her head and under her chin to hold her mouth shut. Should look nice with her sleep mask.

Thursday, February 18, 2010

The kids are trying to send me to the funny farm

They don't look like evil schemers

Today the kids told me that they want me to leave them home alone while I go get my oil changed. I said I would if they both stayed, but Kira could not stay by herself because she's too young to stay home alone. Then they told me that I let them stay home alone when Sam was 7 and Kira was 4 when I had to run an emergency errand to Petco to buy a rabbit cage, but I had a special set of rules.

1. They had to stay on the floor and play with legos.
2. They couldn't stand up in front of the windows where people might see them.
3. They couldn't use the toaster.
4. They had to keep the curtains shut.
5. They could only leave the room to go to the bathroom.

They both corroborate this story and are trying to convince me that it's true but I don't think so. I don't remember even one tiny bit of this story but they swear it's true. If it's true, then where is the emergency rabbit cage, huh kids? Now their story changes and they say that I had to RETURN the cage to a friend of mine from when I worked at the jail. Oh sure.

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Kira in the Car Part VIII

Tonite on the way to her hockey game, Kira told Mitch, "Wednesday is my favorite day of the week because it is right in the middle. But it's also the worst day of the week because it's the middle finger of the week."

Then later her cousin gave her a cookie in secret and Mitch saw it and Kira said to him, "Nobody saw this, capiche?"

Oh snowboarders, you're so unconventional that it's almost conventional

But it doesn't matter that their snowpants look like jeans and they wear big baggy plaid jackets because when you watch them you are amazed at how high they jump above the edge in the half-pipe event. It makes you say, holy shit! and then you have a new respect for how daring/suicidal they are.

I find Shaun White to be a very pleasant sort of person in interviews, but having seen the movie Children of the Corn at the tender age of 13, (yes it was rated R, but we bought tickets for Footloose, and snuck into C of the C. Mistake.) I can't help but to be a tiny bit creeped out by his uncanny resemblance to mass-murderer, Malachi.

One of these pictures is Shaun White and one is Malachi.
Do you know which is which?

Some part of me is subconsciously waiting for Shaun White to land at the top of the pipe and start slashing throats.

It's just a matter of time.

Tuesday, February 16, 2010


Okay, I can't keep this opinion to myself anymore: I think that olympic figure skaters should just wear some kind of team uniform instead of costumes. I am watching the men's figure skating now and these men are incredibly talented and athletic, but I can't get past the stupid podunk "I'm wearing overalls because I'm country" outfit on the guy I'm watching right this minute.

The American skater, Johnny Weir, comes on soon and I got a glimpse of what he's wearing and all I can say is, oh boy.

Really Johnny? Really???

This is why people call skating a gay sport even though when men and women skate together, much of their contact is hand to crotch:

Or crotch to face:

Okay, that's it for my opinion. I have to go watch Skeletor from Belgium now.

Monday, February 15, 2010

Olympic Fever

I am generally completely bored at the idea of watching any kind of sport until the Olympics rolls around, and then I'm a sports super-fan. Right this very minute I'm watching the Russian pairs skaters and I'm not even watching my hands type this.

Eight years ago Mitch and I were going to start practicing for ice dancing. We were thinking of doing pairs, but I'm afraid of heights and I don't know if I'd trust him to toss me spinning through the air with blades on my feet, expecting me to land in a way that doesn't result in orthopedic surgery and weeks in the intensive care unit of a hospital. We practiced our moves (move). It was mostly melodramatic "look at me - don't look at me" choreography.

Look at me, Don't look at me

Seriously, stop looking at me
(look at all the blood!)

Didn't turn out to be much and we sort of forgot about it until four years ago when the Olympics were on again, and we re-committed to our goal but then forgot about it again after the Olympics ended. At this point I don't think it's going to happen.

I watched moguls last night. I never even knew what a mogul was until I was on a youth group ski trip to Giant's Ridge when I was in eighth grade. I was an okay skier (as good as a skier can be without knowing what a mogul is) and I decided to go down a hill I hadn't tried yet. About half way down I ran into the moguls and was wondering why the hell anyone would groom a hill like that. It was a spine crushing little surprise. I didn't know you were supposed to sort of skirt the outside of them and let your knees take the impact, so I was out of control going fast enough over the top of one to jump it and land horribly on the next one, regain enough control to involuntarily jump the next one etc. etc. all the way down the hill.

I'm old enough now where I'm no longer jealous of the olympians. I used to think that if I just would have stayed in figure skating I could be there myself. (stop laughing) Now I'm happy if I can beat an old guy in a fifty yard race in the pool at the Y.

this guy

Sunday, February 14, 2010

Happy Valentine's Day...

from my bird, and me. And just because it's Valentine's Day, and Mitch is my Valentine, I won't write a big long post about how very special he is. You're welcome, Mitch and everyone else.

Saturday, February 13, 2010

Book Review

I'm reading the best book right now! It's called The Help by Kathryn Stockett. It's set in Jackson Mississippi in the early 1960s. FYI - not a good time to be a black woman in Jackson Mississippi. A white woman comes home from college with a degree in journalism and decides to talk to the black maids that work for her parents and her friends and write a book about what it's like to work for Whitey. Drama ensues. That's all I'm going to tell you about it because I want you to read it.

It's especially interesting to me because when I was going to college at the University of North Dakota, I had a professor named John R. Salter Jr. It was an Indian Studies course but it was mostly about civil rights. He was in Jackson Mississippi and worked for the NAACP and was good friends with Medgar and Myrlie Evers. Dr. Salter wrote a book called Jackson Mississippi and it was required reading for the course. (Nice one, Professor!) It was a pretty good book and I still have it.

Dr. Salter in Jackson in 1963

I remember really liking the course and really liking Professor Salter, but on one of the last weeks of the semester he told us about a course he was teaching the next semester and it was all about how he and his son were abducted by aliens several years before, and how they were examined and given an injection, and then for several years after that they had physiological changes but I mostly remember that their feet grew a LOT bigger. I felt kind of bad after hearing that whole business about the alien abduction because I had a lot of respect for Dr. Salter up to that point, but after that I was afraid he might be crazy. Not because I don't believe in aliens because I do, (I saw a UFO flying over K-Mart in International Falls about 15 years ago. I'M TOTALLY SERIOUS) but teaching a course based on your "abduction" and subsequent foot-growing? Come on. That's kind of crazy.

Anyway, The Help is a very good book and I recommend it highly.

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Negative Nelly

Did you know that was a saying, Negative Nelly? I just looked it up because I'm feeling so very negative today. Mitch pointed out that many of my recent sentences start with "I hate..." So I think I'll just make a list of all the things I hate lately, and then I'll concentrate on being more of a Positive Polly starting tomorrow.

I hate winter
I hate snow
I hate cold
I hate wisdom teeth that don't fit in your mouth but come in anyway and squish all your other teeth together
I hate the snow plow, (but I also love the snow plow)
I hate subbing for kindergarteners (but I love kindergarteners, just not being in charge of them for more than 5 minutes at a time)(because they're crazy)
I hate being torn
I hate jaw pain that radiates into your sinuses and gives you headaches that no amount of Advil can relieve
I hate the guy on the radio today that said that when he hears people call music "funk" he re-educates them and tells them that it's really soul music.
I hate Mario Lopez
I hate how dirty my car is
I hate shoveling
I hate getting up before dawn
I hate being beaten at Mario Kart
I hate Michael Buble
I hate that I'm going to have to schedule an appointment with someone (ideally a doctor of some kind) to dig around in my skull and fish out my impacted wisdom teeth
I hate running out of milk
I hate when my glasses get dirty
I hate the phrase "a lick and a promise" yuck
I hate when I tell someone that I hate something trivial and they say, "It could be worse! You could live in Haiti!" Well, no shit.
I hate hockey
I hate that the laundry is never JUST DONE ALREADY
I hate nostril scabs
I hate when I forget to make the kid's lunches until 11:30 at night, every single night
I hate wet socks (no duh, who doesn't)
I hate dry skin
I hate that I can't wear my robe in public
I hate the word lavatory (there's no lava in there)
I hate all these snowmen mocking me constantly
I hate that all my pants have shrunk ( shut up)
I hate turtle-heading
I hate neck zits
I hate running out of Diet Coke
I hate that song (you know the one)
I hate being a grown-up
I hate when I say that I hate being a grown-up and someone says, "Well, what's the alternative?" Being a kid, you idiot.
I hate squash
I hate caraway seeds
I hate the lady judge on So You Think You Can Dance
I hate the male judges on So You Think You Can Dance
I hate that show So You Think You Can Dance
I hate knowing that there is a chewed up Hot Tamale somewhere on the floor of my car because it fell out of Kira's mouth
I hate Ted Bundy
I hate John Wayne Gacy
I hate the word crux
I hate the word cusp
I hate when guys try to dictate where their jaw line is by shaving beard jaw-lines halfway up their face
I hate when people yank my chain
I hate even thinking about litter boxes
I hate even thinking about hemorrhoids
I hate how hard hemorrhoids is to spell
I hate how negative I am
I hate this list

Okay, from now on nothing but sunshine from me.

Sunday, February 7, 2010

Here it comes!

Well, I'm starting to get chills and my nose is running and I can't stop sneezing. Thank you very much, Kira, I am getting sick. Thankfully the house is clean. I get no sympathy when I'm sick because I get SO GROSS. I wish I would get flushed and have pink cheeks and lose a little weight, but I don't. I turn gray and bloat. Like a dead body. Like a body fished out of a river that still leaks fluid out of every orifice after hours and hours. Really gross. Who wants to pamper that? Nobody, that's who.

Saturday, February 6, 2010

Sick sick sick

I brought Kira to the clinic today because she's been complaining of a sore throat. She also has a croupy cough, so I thought it was just the onset of a cold but I brought her in just to make sure. She has strep throat and croup. How does a ten year old get croup? Isn't that a toddler disease? This is what I get for wishing they were little again. She was miserable last night when we were watching movies and I caught her drinking out of my pop. Great. I wonder what the incubation period is? I'd say I probably have a day or so before I'm in total misery. Kira's had a couple doses of the antibiotics now and she looks and feels much better already. What a miracle antibiotics are. I'm so glad she's better already and now I won't have to give her the rest of the medication. I'll save it for something else.

Just kidding. God, you think I'm so stupid.

Wednesday, February 3, 2010

Another Nemesis

I think I may have ANOTHER nemesis! I have never had more than one at a time, so I'm kind of setting a record. This person is not technically my nemesis, I think she thinks I'm her nemesis, but I don't care about her one way or another so I guess the fact that she has built an animosity in her mind makes her my nemesis. Wait, what if she hasn't and I'm just imagining it and I've built the animosity in my mind? Does that make me crazy? No, it just makes for one more nemesis.

She is also a substitute teacher and one day we were at the same school and were having lunch at the same time. She told me that she used to work as a full-time teacher in the twin cities, and that she and her hubby moved here for his job and she can't find full-time work here so she subs. She asked where I usually sub and I told her and she said that she works there too, but mainly for one teacher who always asks for her but she didn't say who. I told her I was going to be in that building in a few days and she asked who I was going in for and I told her and it happened to be the teacher she is supposedly the regular sub for.

This crazy woman got tears in her eyes when she heard that I was subbing for him and she said, "Well, I don't know why he wouldn't have called me." The teachers don't call subs. They put the job into an automated system and they have the option to specify a sub, but most don't. I thought the whole exchange was so weird. Here I am at a crowded lunch table with a bunch of teachers and it looks as though I said something to make this unstable person cry. Awkward!

That was months ago, and I saw her again today at the very building we were talking about. She was working in the library, and I was teaching 4th grade. I brought my kids to the library and she told me I had the wrong time. I thought I might have so I double checked and it was the right time. She said, "Oh, you're subbing for Mr. So-and-so?" who isn't even the teacher she cried about and I was like, "Yeah, obviously."

So am I crazy or am I her nemesis?

I just re-read this and I sound a little crazy. I think it might be me. No, it's not. I know she's the crazy one. Yep, it's definitely her. Psycho. I think her nemesis name will be Mrs. Bawlbaby.

Happy Birthday Dad!

It's my dad's birthday today so I thought I should write a post in honor of him because as he always tells me, he won't be around forever!

One of my funniest memories of my dad is how my sisters and I used to drive him crazy by kicking the back of the seat in our old Suburban. He is like the Princess and the Pea the way he can feel even the slightest pressure through a car seat. If we even touched it he would say, "Stop kicking the seat!" It was so amazing that we would have silent contests to see who could touch the seat more lightly with the tip of a tiny toe until he stopped feeling it. We never found out. He felt everything and then after a while, usually in traffic, he would get fed up with it and wave his arm around behind his seat while he was driving, but we would just tuck our legs up and laugh quietly.

I remember on one long trip to Grandma's when we were driving through St. Paul at rush hour in the summer (before air conditioning) and we were stuck in traffic. Dad was frustrated. We were bored. It just so happened that this was about the time that the Dukes of Hazzard was all the rage, and my sister Amy and I loved Bo Duke. I was looking out the window, occasionally giving Dad a whack to the back of his seat, and I saw a man in the car next to us who looked a lot like Bo Duke. Knowing my sister would like to see him, I turned to her and said, "Hey, he looks like Bo!" and pointed out my window. By the time we looked back, there was a different car next to us with a guy that looked more like Mr. ZZ Top than Bo Duke and we absolutely roared with laughter, and everyone knows you can't roar with laughter without kicking the front seat! So then we said, "He looks like Bo" to every car we saw, and when we saw how much each driver did not look like Bo, we roared and kicked even more. We were out of control. We got the "Knock it off!" warning, we got the arm-waving-around behind the seat, we got the "Do I have to stop this car?" threat, but nothing worked. We totally lost it. When he finally got us to at least be quiet, we still played by just pointing at people and making funny faces and then cracking up. It was the funniest thing in the world. Thanks for not killing us that day, Dad!

Happy Birthday Dad! I love you!

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

This is how much I love my son

I love him so much that on this, the first night of the last season of LOST, I took him to a hockey game. I sat there and froze my large buns off and listened to Emesis's husband, Vomitus, say that if the team didn't start playing better they weren't going to get the cookies Emesis brought for them, and they were going to go back to our arena and skate until they PUKE.

Yes, I listened to that and watched the 15,233rd game of the season which was another tie. Which means there was an overtime. Which means the game was just that much longer.

All this was happening and at home my woodstove was making my basement nice and toasty and LOST was starting. Now I'm watching it, but I missed an hour and I don't know what the heck is going on. Why were they all on the plane that landed in L.A.? That didn't happen. Did it? I saw Juliet die. Sad. I love Hurley's sideburn/chops. What is this cave they are going into and where is that creepy little guy, Ben, with the bulgy eyes? Who is the guy in the turban? Is it still the 70's? I will never catch up now.

That's how much I love my son.

Monday, February 1, 2010

Happy Birthday Kira!

Kira turned ten yesterday. She had a great birthday that started with her sleeping-in until ten. Then she got up and I had to make her French toast and while she was eating it she said, "The French are lazy. When they order French toast they just have to say 'toast' and when they order French fries, they only have to say 'fries.'"

After that we played some Wii games and I graciously let her win because she is an incredibly sore loser. The day before her birthday I took her out to buy her a new jump rope because that was on her wish list. While we were at the store I got her a yoga ball too because she has wanted one of those for years. She had an idea to sit on the yoga ball and while clenching it with her legs, simultaneously bouncing and jumping rope. She can actually do it and when she gets more consistent I will take a video and post it. So after we played Wii she practiced her yoga-ball jump-roping. Then she went to Sam's hockey game with her grandparents and then they all came over for dinner. We had her favorite, oil chicken, and then she opened presents. She said she got everything she wanted. She was a very happy girl.

She designed her own cake this year. It was a white cake that we turned blue with food coloring, white frosting, and then with blue icing, she made a picture of Lake Superior, a lighthouse, and a ship. I haven't downloaded the pictures yet but when I do I'll put them on this post.

Happy birthday, Kira!

No Internet Connection!

Our server has been down for days so we haven't had internet for a while and I'm having withdrawal symptoms. So to feed my addiction, today I brought my computer to UMD to catch up on what's been happening.

What a pain! I forgot how hard it is to find parking on campus. That sucked. Then I found a nice spot to sit so I got everything set out just the way I like it, and then in about fifteen minutes I had to go to the bathroom which was only about 20 feet away, but I can't leave my computer just sitting out, so I had to pack everything up and go, and when I came back about three minutes later, someone else had taken my sweet spot. Darn! So I went and fed my parking meter, came back in, found a not-so-sweet spot next to some douche who sat next to me about five minutes after I sat down, and has his headphones on so loud I can hear his crappy music, and he keeps unwrapping candy in LOUD cellophane wrappers. He kid, grow up, I'm trying to read some blogs and catch up on Facebook! Why does he have to sit RIGHT NEXT TO ME. I was here first and there are lots of other places to sit. Maybe I should fart.

Then I wrote my movie review on Rescue from Gilligan's Island (the post below) and now I'm writing this post. Right this second I'm writing this line. Now this one. Just kidding. That was annoying, but this is what happens when I lose my internet connection. I get annoying and boring.

Kira's birthday was yesterday and she had a great day. That should be it's own post. Stay tuned.

Movie Review

Last night Mitch and I happened to catch the last hour of the Gilligan's Island movie made in 1978 titled Rescue from Gilligan's Island. Wow. Mitch and I both saw what it was and both said that we never thought it was a real show, we thought we had dreamed it.

Here's what happened. A satellite fell to earth on Gilligan's Island. It was a Russian satellite and had some kind of alloy on it that the clever clever professor used to make a barometer and with this barometer he was able to predict a tidal wave that was going to sweep over the island. To prepare for this the castaways lashed all their huts together and hunkered down. The wave washed the hut/boat out to sea and as they were floating along, stupid Gilligan started a fire on the deck so he could cook some fish and of course it got out of control, but luckily for them a Coast Guard helicopter just happened to be flying over and happened to see the smoke so they were saved! A Coast Guard ship came and tied up to their hut/boat and dragged them to Hawaii. For some stupid reason the castaways stayed on the hut/boat instead of riding on the Coast Guard ship. I don't know why they did that because that hut/boat didn't look very seaworthy. It had a totally flat bottom with no sides, just a palm tree frame. It must have been heavy!

When they got back after being marooned for 15 years things had changed for everyone. They all went their separate ways. The Skipper and his stupid little buddy worked on the Minnow II but the insurance wouldn't pay the Skipper off until he got everyone on that fateful three hour tour to say the shipwreck wasn't his fault. First he and Gilligan went to see the professor. Why would he bring Gilligan along, you say? Because the Skipper is Gilligan's legal guardian and he's ultimately responsible for all the stupid shit Gilligan does, that's why.

The professor was back East on a college campus, trying to make all the inventions he invented in his head on the island which included a Frisbee and a skateboard. (Who knew the professor was such a slacker?) Too bad, Professor! Already invented! The professor was upset because the campus administration wanted the Professor to work more in public relations, raising money, instead of spending his time inventing stupid stuff that was already invented.

Next they went to see Ginger. She was acting again and was sad because the director and producer of her movie wanted her to take off the long evening gown and wear nothing but a smile. She said NO WAY! And it wasn't Tina Louise either, but some other actress that looked a LOT like Tina Louise.

Maryanne was supposed to get married but guess what? After 15 years of being faithful to her fiance (except for the threesie with Ginger and the Professor, and the other threesie with Lovey and Thurston. Oh, and the other threesie with the Skipper and Gilligan) she discovered that she just didn't love him anymore! Boo hoo! At the last second during the ceremony, for some ridiculous reason, the Skipper and Gilligan stole a tractor and cart and grabbed her and threw watermelons at the people chasing them. Her fiance married her best friend instead. Burn!

The Howells were doing just fine, thank you very much, but they realized that their old friends were stuck-up assholes when the Skipper and Gilligan came to visit and the rich friends called them riff raff. Gilligan wanted to know which of them was Riff and which was Raff. Idiot.

The castaways met back in L.A. over Christmas to go on another cruise together on the Skipper's new boat. Yeah, I know, what's wrong with these people? They were cruising out to sea for hours and hours and the Skipper finally said, "Huh, the compass says we are going along the coast, but it seems more like we're going out to sea!" Then Gilligan said that he fixed the compass. He took the magnet out. The Skipper yelled, "You fucking moron!" Then a storm came up and lasted for 12 days, in which they were blown all over the place. They finally surfaced on an island and you will never believe it, but it was the SAME ISLAND AS BEFORE.

Then the professor said, "I'm doing something we should have done 15 years ago!" and he ran up to Gilligan and started choking him. Then the Howells got in on it because this time they didn't pack a trunk full of money because what are the chances of being stranded twice! I'll spare you all the grim details, but they killed Gilligan and ate his flesh. Just kidding. The movie ended when they saw that they were at the same island and everyone said, "Oh Gilligan!" but I like to think they killed him. And ate him. He wasn't stupid, he was a saboteur.