H.B. to me!

Hello!  Guess what day it is!  My birthday!  Happy birthday to me!  I went for a little walk this morning because it was so beautiful outside.  I took some pictures:

First of all, I looked in my garden.  We've had a few nights of frost, so almost everything is dead and I couldn't hold off any longer on picking my pumpkins.  Impressed?  This spring when I was feeling very Martha Stewart-y I thought it would be a good idea to plant my own pumpkins for the kids for Halloween.  I pampered those stupid pumpkin vines all summer and this is all I got.  They are going to be a BITCH to carve, I can just tell.

Next I headed down the hill to the way-back yard.  Pretty huh?

Aside from the whole potential-early-death-by-bear-attack, we are very lucky to live here.

Now I'm in the woods. Beautiful!  Part of me is a little afraid of running into the bears, but the mature part of me says, "Grow up!  They are more afraid of you than you are of them!"

Then I looked down on the path and happened to notice bear tracks.  Can you see the claw marks?  At this point I'm getting a little freaked out.  But the dog was with me, and bears are afraid of dogs, right?  All is fine.  Move along.

Beautiful!  I love nature!

Right about here I was thinking how great it was to be alive, and how happy I am.  Then I looked over at my dog as she stopped short and pricked her ears up and listened intently to something ahead of us.  Then she turned around and BOLTED in the opposite direction.  Panic time!  I didn't know I could run that fast.  I caught up to the little jerk on the deck. 

It looks like she's yawning, but she's actually laughing at her hilarious joke, and saying, 

"You should have seen your face!"  

New glasses and flattened boobs

The forty-year body overhaul is almost complete.  Today I got a mammogram (squashy!) and my new glasses came in.  (see above)  I went a little bolder than I normally do because of the whole uncanny-resemblance-to-a-transvestite-Sarah-Palin business.  I'd rather look like Morty Seinfeld than Sarah Palin, which I do now.  Whew! 

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I'm on LOL today!

Good morning!  I'm featured over at Laugh Out Loud today.  (It's a re-run, but you like re-runs.)    It's the story of my old boyfriend, Jake.  After I wrote that in June he somehow saw it because he googled his own name and then he friended me on Facebook and told me he thought it was funny.  Then a few days later he dumped me on Facebook.  When will I learn? 

No bears last night (that I heard) so I'm well-rested and fresh as a daisy for my second to last day of being in my thirties.  I told my aunt that I was feeling bad about turning 40 and needing bifocals and you know what that sweet, supportive woman said?  "BFD."  Truer letters have never been spoken.  (She's way older.)

Have a great day everyone!  And go over to the LOL page today and check me and all the other funny ladies out.

I KNEW IT!

You remember that post I wrote about how a bear is terrorizing me?  My dad read that and told me that I was over-reacting and I probably have raccoons.  I didn't think raccoons could break a tree branch to get at a bird feeder, but he had me doubting the identity of my terrorist.  Well, last night I got PROOF!  It isn't A bear, it is TWO bears!!! 

I heard something bang against the grill on the deck  in the middle of the night, so I jumped up and turned on the deck lights to see what was out there.  Nothing.  Then I heard something on the front deck so I opened the front door and goddammit, it was TWO BEARS!  A big one and a little one!  I almost pooped my jammies!  Luckily I had taken the top to bottom screen out of that door yesterday and put the glass in or else all that would have been separating me from TWO BEARS would have been a thin screen.  Unfortunately all that was separating me from two bears was a nice piece of thick glass that I purposely don't secure very well in the door because it's kind of hard to do, and it's kind of hard to get out again in the spring, so I just do it "good enough."  One decent pawing would have sent the glass crashing in on me. 

They didn't seem to see me through the glass because of the light glaring on them and they were too busy demolishing my last and favorite bird feeder.  I ran around like a fool for a few minutes not sure what to do, and then I found my camera.  Here's my picture:

I know, it's an awful picture because I was totally freaking out and the door was all steamed up by the time I got myself together enough to find the camera.  I tried to take another one after I wiped off the door, but the stupid batteries ran out and I was too scared to keep the door open any longer.  I let my brave, wonderful dog out for about a minute and she chased them off.

GOOD DOG!

WTF

Mitch and I went to a wedding tonight.  I decided to get all dressed up.  I actually took more than ten minutes to get dressed. I dusted off the old make-up case, and I wore clothes that need to be ironed, and do you know what happened?  I looked exactly like a transvestite dressed as Sarah Palin.  And what's worse, I felt like a transvestite dressed as Sarah Palin.  What the fuck is happening to me?

Don't be fooled. It's not Magnum.

It's TV premier week.  I was kind of excited because ABC is bringing back Magnum P.I. (but they are calling it Blue Bloods.  Stupid name.)

Magnum and one of his million police-kids.  Can you see a New Kid on the Block???

I gotta say, this isn't what I thought.  Sure, Magnum is in it, but that is where the similarities end.  Magnum is old, but still kind of hot.  The setting is New York City, which, in case you didn't know, is nothing like Hawaii.  In this remake of Magnum,  Magnum has a shitload of kids, including Donnie Walberg, who is kind of a mean cop.  I just can't get past the fact that he was a New Kid On The Block.

Dorks.

Another one of Magnum's kids is played by Bridget Moynahan.  She's okay, but it's disturbing to watch someone who looks exactly like me. 

OMG!  Twins!  Freaky!

I'm not really following what is going on but as far as I can tell there is a little girl missing, Donnie waterboarded someone in a toilet, there is a super-secret all police secret society called the Blue Templars (gag).  I don't even care anymore because Magnum's millions of New York law-enforcement kids are no replacement for Rick, TC and especially Higgins.  Magnum is not the same without Higgins.

Oh Higgy Baby, I miss you. 

It's my birth week

I got up early this morning because I was pretty sure I had a sub job teaching fourth graders.  About ten minutes before I was supposed to leave, I just happened to go on the computer to make sure I had everything right, and discovered my job for those particular fourth graders isn't for two weeks.  "Oh great," I said to myself, "what a perfect waste of an early morning shower!"  So after I dropped Kira off at school, and endured her laughing and mocking me, ("Look who's all dressed up for work!  Look who's wearing her fancy shoes!  Ohhhhh too bad, no job for you today.") I decided to get some things done that I've been meaning to do.

The first thing I did was go to the DMV to get my license renewed.  See, the early-morning shower wasn't a total waste!  I was expecting to be there for an hour or so but it was actually pretty fast.  It only took about 10 minutes!  I think I may have actually taken a cute picture too.  Oh who am I kidding.  It probably looks like this:

Close enough!  Then, since I was close, I went to Lens Crafters to see if I could get in for an eye exam.  I could.  My prescription changed, of course, so I have to get new glasses.  At the very end of the exam the doctor looked at my paperwork and said, "Okay, let's try one more thing, and then he put a card with tiny writing really close to the super specs and said, "Tell me if this is better," and he had me look at the card, "Or this," and he did one click and I saw crystal clear perfection.  Nice work, Doctor!  Then he said, "You're ready for bifocals!"  I said,

"WHAT???????!!!!!!!"  

Then he said, "My daughter is about your age, you know, forty, and she ne-"  "Excuse me," I interrupted, "I'm not forty until next Wednesday.  Let's not push me into the grave too soon."  So he let the bifocal issue drop, "Until next time," he said.  Then he put dilating drops in my eyes and sent me into the store to look at frames.  While I was going blind from the drops, I picked out some frames that at the time I really liked.  I don't remember what they looked like now.  Things were blurry.  Probably not the best time to pick out something that's hundreds of dollars that I'll be wearing on my face every single day.  They'll be ready in a week!  I went back for the rest of my exam and then they sent me home with some cute sunglasses. 

My eyes are still dilated.  I joined a book club and tonight is my first meeting.  I can't read and I look like I'm high.  Get ready to be impressed, ladies!  Here's my pupils:

You know what was uncomfortable?  Having a flash go off two inches in front of my dilated pupils. 

Next week:  Mammogram!

I'm being terrorized in my own home

No, Mitch is not beating me (much), I'm being terrorized by a BEAR!  If you didn't know it, bears are on my list of things I'm afraid of.  Yesterday I washed the hummingbird feeders and filled up the rest of my feeders with fresh super-deluxe black oil sunflower seeds.  (nothing but the best for my birds!)  I woke up this morning to bird-feeder carnage:

Look, teeth marks! From teeth like this: 

And the giant asshole didn't even eat the thistle seeds that were in that feeder.  It was just senseless violence.  Thanks a lot, asshole!  Thistle seed isn't exactly cheap, you know!

Then I looked around the yard and saw more carnage:

Bird World never had a chance.  It was hanging in a tree on a cute little iron hanger that I got from the dollar store.  I can't find the hanger anywhere, but does the bear care about that?  Nooooooooo!

This cheap plastic feeder never saw it coming.  It was already brittle from the sun.  The stupid bear shattered it into a million pieces.  I hope he got little cuts in his mouth like I get when I eat Doritos. 
 

For some reason he missed this one.  It's my favorite one because the stupid squirrels can't get any seeds from it.  Ha Ha, you stupid bear!  (and a continuing "ha ha" for you too, you stupid squirrels!)

Unfortunately I can't go outside anymore because now that the bear knows there is food around here, I know he's out there waiting, like this:

He might look sophisticated, but given the chance, he would eat my head. 

I'm not even kidding.  They go after the head presumably because they like brains.  Like zombies.  Still think they are adorable? 

Well, let's not forget what a dick Winnie the Pooh really is.  And he's fictional!  Even fictional bears are jerks.  Hey, how's this for adorable:

Horrifying bloody gore and oh, look who happens to be responsible for it!  A BEAR! Surprise, surprise!  People don't take bears seriously enough.  Bear attacks are nothing to make light of.

Oh, lady, you're so funny pretending a giant grizzly bear is eating YOUR BABY.  You wouldn't be laughing so hard if there really was a bear around because he really would eat your baby's delicious chubby little legs.  He'd make you watch and then he'd chew on your head for a while which would be perfectly seasoned from your salty tears.  Still laughing?!

Holy shit, he's looking at me now!  Somebody call animal control!

The nursing home, Hooters, and live-blogging Mitch's sick obsession with pantomime horses

OMG you guys, it's been a few days since I blogged!  I usually don't go more than a day or two between blogs.  (Is that obnoxious?  A lot of blogs I read are once a week.  How much of me is too much of me?  I know I get pretty sick of myself sometimes.)  Anyhoo... nothing funny has happened to me this weekend because I spent the better part of it in a nursing home visiting my grandma.  Aging and slow death: not that funny.  There was one old lady who was calling for help to get her door open.  My dad helped her with the knob and I held the door open for her to shuffle in with her walker. There was a SET OF TEETH on her walker seat, and she had a wad of toilet paper hanging out of her pants.  Goodbye dignity!  Every time I walked down the hall past the rooms, there was one man sitting in a chair in his room and he would fart loudly, and I mean LOUDLY, almost every time I went by.  Was it just for me or does everyone get the special fart treatment?  I nicknamed him Sir Fartsalot in my head.

My dad and I went to pick up my grandma's sister, Ogie, at her assisted living home.  Ogie, like my grandma, is sharp as a tack, but frail, and before today I thought she was probably the nicest person on the planet.  We visited with her for a while in her room and asked her how she was and how her neighbors were.  She told us about a lady with alzheimers who sits in the lobby all day and hollers at people.  She told us this lady startles really easy and then gets riled up and wants to talk non-stop which Ogie finds annoying.  Then, as we were walking out through the lobby, Ogie was wheel-walking herself through, and I saw her covertly SLAP THE ALZHEIMERS LADY ON THE HAND and then wheel-walk as fast as she could to the door.  The alzheimers lady jumped and started yakking and hollering, but Ogie was long gone.  She can really move that wheelchair when she wants to. 

Now I'm sitting downstairs in my basement watching Undercover Boss and the CEO of Hooters is on and is seeing how his company is run from the undercover perspective of a low-level peon.  Riveting.  Is Hooters about owls?  Boobs?  Wings?  They don't really address that eternal question on the show.  Oh, wait a minute, the CEO just told me:  It's about respect.  Hooters is not about profits, or wings, or owls, or boobs; it is all about respecting Hooters girls.  Naturally!  How stupid of me.  When I want a good dose of respect I'll throw on some orange shorts and stand in front of some fat fuck manager so he can tell me that I don't have enough make-up on to pass out chicken wings effectively.  Then I'd feel like Susan B. Anthony.

(If this was a full-body picture, you'd be able to see her tiny orange shorts-of-respect.)

I'd really like some Hooters wings right now.

Mitch is sitting next to me now doing intense research on pantomime horses because that is what he and Kira are going to be for Halloween.  I think he is actually going to spend $400 plus on a pantomime horse costume.  He says he's not, but he is really invested at this point and every night I hear him justifying why it would be "so worth it."   He just said "I bet you could get a panto-horse costume in England for next to nothing because they love the panto-horse."  He keeps calling it a "panto-horse" because he's so familiar.  He and Kira want to put the suit on, and then go and trot around Mitch's brother's yard and freak out his nieces.   They also want to enter this race:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r0Ajq0W7P1A

Now he just said, "If Kira and I get this costume, I want you to enter us in the fair with all the other horses.  We might be a little anxious at first, you know, because of being in a strange place around all the other horses, but we'll calm down."  Now he's laughing his head off at a video of a pantomime horse laying on the floor trying to get to its feet.   Now he just said, "I bet I've looked at a thousand panto-horse costumes."  Now he just said, "This thing [panto-horse obsession] is bigger than me.  I can't help myself."  Now he just said, "The panto possibilities are endless."  Now he just said, "There's a lot of planning and responsibility that goes into being the front half of a horse."

Enough live-blogging.  I have to go to bed.  Maybe something funny will happen tomorrow.  Here's to hoping.

Robert Loggia won't be my Facebook Friend

The other day Becky at Mommy Wants Vodka wrote a post about how much she thinks John Mayer is a dillweed, how she saw him on a talk show and he had the gall to be funny which really pissed her off.  I don't happen to believe that he is funny, I think Aunt Becky must be mistaken.  He's a douche.  Anyhoo, after her first post about him which was chocked full (or chock full?) of his name, she discovered that when you google John C. Mayer, her blog is number three on the list, which if you know anything about the Google, that's pretty impressive because they give you about 7 million pages to choose from and if you can get to be number three, hey!  That's something!  Apparently people PAY CASH MONEY to be featured high on the Google search list, and she did it just by being obnoxious, which proves that obnoxiousness is not such a bad thing.  So she threw out a challenge to her readers to see if we can pick a target and get in the top of the Google searches for them.  I am taking her up on that challenge because I was going to write a post about this topic anyway. Please forgive the annoying lack of pronouns.  I'm trying to get something accomplished here!

I love Robert Loggia (born Salvatore Loggia in 1930).  I loved moviestar Robert Loggia when he was Grandpa Victor on Malcolm in the Middle, I loved acclaimed actor Robert Loggia when he was the grandfather on Over the Top.  He plays a good mean grandfather.  When I read the Harry Potter books I had him in my head as Voldemort, and then when I saw the first movie, I thought they really did base the head version of Voldemort on Robert Loggia and I was so excited, but sadly, I was wrong.

 You can see how I could be mistaken, right?

Robert Loggia will always be Voldemort to me.  No offense, Ralph Fiennes, you're pretty good, but Robert Loggia would have been bad ass.

When I watch a show and I see that magnificent thespian, Robert Loggia, is a guest star, I feel all warm and fuzzy inside, because you know what?  He can handle it.  He sweats competence.  I've seen Robert Loggia on Frasier, Suspense, Magnum P.I., Rockford Files, Quincy, Big, The Six Million Dollar Man, The Bionic Woman, and Little House on the Prairie.  The only thing that would make actor Robert Loggia's career just a little better would be if he would have been on an episode of Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman. 

mattcarr.com

But here's my problem with Robert Loggia.  I friended Robert Loggia on Facebook a loooooong time ago and he has been ignoring me.  I saw that Robert Loggia had a page, and was so excited because I'm really a big fan, alright?  I'd just like to feel a virtual personal connection with Robert Loggia and make all my other Facebook friends jealous that I am FRIENDS with Robert Loggia, but he won't respond to my friend request.  You know, come to think of it, I don't think that is really his page.  I think someone in Japan made it because his name is spelled wrong (Robert Loggia would never spell his name Robert Logia. That would be stupid) and all of his 146 friends are Japanese.  Robert Loggia would have WAY more than 146 friends, am I right?!  But even if that is true, I would like him to really make a page of his own, that isn't a lame-o fan page and make me his FRIEND.  I want to be Robert Loggia's Facebook friend.  Is that too much to ask?  Huh? 

mattcarr.com

So my question to Robert Loggia is, what gives?  Why can't we be Facebook friends?  Maybe if I can be one of the top searches on Google when a person types in something like,say, for instance, "Robert Loggia is a Facebook Snob" he will finally notice me.  Let's see if this works.  This blog has to be good for something, and if it can't make Robert Loggia my friend, then what the hell is it all for?  HUH?  WHAT THE HELL?

UPDATE:

Okay, it's been ten minutes and here's what's happening on Google.  I typed in "Robert Loggia is a Facebook snob" and TA DA!  First entry!

But then I simplified and typed in "Robert Loggia, Facebook" and this is what I got:

Second.  Not bad.  But when I type in "Robert Loggia" just by itself.  I'm nowhere to be seen.  I clicked through to page 13 and didn't see my blog and then I gave up.  Sad.  You know what might help?  If you work in the words "Robert Loggia" in the comments somehow.  That might give me a little more bang for my buck.

UPDATE #2

It is now about four hours after I originally posted this and I'm still no where near the first page if you type in "Robert Loggia," but if you misspell his name and type in "Robert Logia" like the stupid Japanese person who made the fake Facebook page, I'm NUMBER 2!  

  

Update #3 One day after the original post:

This is what happens when you type in "Robert Loggia snob"

Hello! Here's another one:

Not about the Hospice

Hey, guess what?  This post is NOT about the hospice!  My grandma was moved back to her hometown where she wants to be so that is a good thing.  But what should I write about now if I'm not going to write about the hospice or beloved dying relatives?  I don't really have any rotten tooth issues to speak of, and I know that is also a blog favorite.  I went out last night with some friends and my friend was telling these other friends that I have a blog and it is HILARIOUS and they said, "Oh really?  What do you write about?" and we were all, "Oh you know, my kids, how much I hate dentists, the hospice,"  and they were just looking at me like, "Yeah..... sounds hilarious.  Other people's kids and unpleasant experiences.  Give me the link right now!"  No, they were nicer than that but I could tell that's what they were thinking.  Maybe I'll change the name of the blog to "Other People's Kids and Unpleasant Experiences"  Nah, I like the subtle vagueness of So...What Else.  Leaves me open to write about things other than my kids and rotten teeth and the hospice, not that I'd ever want to. 

So, really now, what else?  Well, I still have this horrible cold that doesn't seem to be going away which makes me think OHMYGODIT'SCAAAANNNNCCCCEEEERRRR! because I think everything is cancer and have ever since I was a little kid.  Except for a little while in college when I thought I had AIDS because having AIDS was all the rage so I was sure I had it.  I don't, by the way, I know this because I had to have an AIDS test after the dentist bled in my mouth.  So I am AIDS free (unless the dentist has AIDS), but probably chock full of cancer.  Is it "chock full" or "chocked full"?  I don't know. My friend Kady wrote a post today called Clamato Jugs and Other Valuables and Mitch got really excited because he thought it said, "Clamato, Jugs and Other Valuables" so he was looking forward to seeing a little boob, but instead all he saw was Kady's dad's garage junk.  At least that's what he told me when I caught him looking at JUGS the website this morning.  (just kidding, he wasn't really.  Well, he might have been but I didn't catch him.) See, the little nuances are important. 

Okay, I am going to stop now because obviously I don't have anything interesting to write about.  I might be back tomorrow with an actual topic because I will be working my glamorous and illustrious career of substitute teaching.  Jealous? 

Nurses Rock

I've been spending a lot of time with my Grandma who is in the hospice ward at the hospital here in Duluth.  Can I just say how great the staff of hospices are?  What a hard job that would be.  Most of the staff we deal with are middle-aged women nurses.  Nurses are the best.  They are so sweet and helpful and always manage to bring a smile, or in the case of my Grandma, a huge laugh. 

My Grandma thinks swears are extremely funny.  Yesterday there was a nurse who helped my Gram with some, (heh hem), personal details and my Gram said she appreciated her help and expertise and the nurse said, "I really know my shit."  Grandma about busted a nut laughing (just kidding, my Grandma doesn't have nuts.)  Also, one day there were lots of visitors in the room.  The adults were talking about something, but I wasn't listening.  I was listening to Kira tell my Grandma a series of stories that were all prefaced with "Okay, I have to swear for this."  Grandma loved those.  And Kira loves to swear.  Win-win. 

Today while I was sitting there with my Grandma, she was sleeping and I was eating a salad I got from the cafeteria.  There were some tomatoes in there that I think they were trying to pass off as cherry tomatoes, but they were huge.  In retrospect,  I should have cut them up but I thought I could handle it.  I put one in my mouth whole.  I didn't want to bite it because they explode when you bite them.  So I shoved the entire thing in and then tried to push it between my molars with the fork but it was too big and hard (that's what she said HA HA HA!).  It was like a gag ball and I started to panic but then I calmed down and took a deep breath around the tomato and worked through it.  I knew that if I did choke, one of those nice hospice ladies would give me the Heimlich, and that was ultimately what saved me from freaking out and sucking it into my windpipe.  I was so confident in those ladies that I ate two tomatoes like that.  They were delicious.

Fun times at the hospice

My sister Amy and I spent the day with our Grandma at the hospital on the hospice floor.  Guess what's depressing?  The hospice wing!  So to keep ourselves from committing suicide and to stretch our legs, we went up to the birthing center to look at the babies.  We saw one really cute little baby who was born yesterday.  Boy was he easy to fool. (ba dum PISH!)  We were going to take a picture of him but you know what's creepy?  Strangers taking a picture of your newborn baby.  So we didn't.  We did take a picture of these weird doors that were in the maternity ward: 

We decided two things when we saw these doors.  1)They must be for the babies, and 2) I should never wear that sweater halfway zipped up again.  

Movie Review: The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo

I watched the Swedish version of The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo last night BY MYSELF which was honestly very relaxing and nice.  Besides the fact that I don't speak Swedish and had to read subtitles I still liked it a lot.  It was a perfect adaptation of the book.  Perfect!  Lisbeth Salander looked just like she should look except for one thing.  The dragon tattoo on her back was too big.  In the book it was on her shoulder, but in the movie it covered her entire back and looked like it was scratching and trying to emerge from her body, which is kind of cool, I guess, if you like tattoos, and you know the character, but IT WASN'T THE SAME.  The other main character, Mikael Blomkvist, was good too, but he was a little creepier than the Mikael that I pictured in my head.  The actor had spooky eyes and he reminded me of someone who I could never put my finger on so that was a bit distracting.  (Harvey Keitel?  No. The devil?  No. Maybe if Harvey and the devil had a baby?)

The settings were absolutely perfect.  It was like the set directors were in my head! (or read the books!)  I love when that happens.  Another thing I really liked about the movie was that the older women looked like older women.  In the book they were pretty women in their late 50s and 60s and the actors actually were pretty women in their late 50s and 60s.  No casting a 38 year old freakish bombshell who looks like she's actually 28 to play a woman who is supposed to be 58.

Things I learned about Sweden:  1) Prisons are like college here in the States, 2) Lakes apparently don't freeze even when it's bone-chillingly cold outside.  Maybe they are made from vodka.  No, that's Russia.  I'll have to research. 3) "Jävel" is how you say "motherfucker" in Swedish.    You're welcome!

The dog and the first day of school

Yesterday Kira told me, "Maisy has a little cut on her leg."  I didn't think much of it because she's a dog and she's always running around chasing rabbits and chipmunks.  So she got a little cut.  So what.  Then later that evening I let her in the house and looked at her leg and I almost puked.  It wasn't a little cut, it was a gaping gash.  It didn't seem to bother Maisy at all until I said, "OH SWEET JESUS!"  Then she started limping.  I debated taking her to the emergency vet, but it wasn't bleeding, so I wrapped it up in gauze and decided to wait.  I brought her in today and the doc said that it wasn't as bad as it looked because it just tore through the hide, not to the bone like I thought.  GROSS!  She got patched up and now she's just fine and she looks so cute with her little red bandage.

Here she is scratching...

Here she is walking...

Here she is showing off her bandage...

I'm supposed to give her about a thousand antibiotics over the next few days and it's not going to be easy.  I shoved one in a piece of cheese today and she ate the cheese and spit out the pill.  DAMN YOU, BORDER COLLIES WITH YOUR GIANT BRAINS!

Kira FINALLY started school today so now school has officially started, thank the sweet lord.  We still have to do a little more school shopping for her because on our last trip she narrowed what she is willing to wear down to velour track suits.  She's decided she's done with jeans and every other type of pant unless it is velvety soft and stretchy with an elastic waist.  I did manage to find a pair of jeans that she will wear, but you know where I found them?  In her closet.  Some kid must have left them here years ago and I've been keeping them thinking someday Kira would be able to wear them.  This is the year!  I made her try them on and to test them out.  She put them on and did one of the deepest deep-knee bends I've ever seen and then said, "Okay.  These will do."  Apparently she does a lot of knee bends at school and needs the flexibility.  Now I have to try to figure out where to get more mystery-closet-jeans.  

You'll be happy to know my cold is getting better.  Now the most annoying thing about it is that I'm coughing up stuff that tastes exactly like chicken flavored Rice-a-Roni.  Not altogether unpleasant, but a little disturbing.