Lame-o

I have been so lame this week that I'm actually sick of myself.  Does that ever happen to you?  I only worked on Monday for half a day so I've been at home, alone with myself for three days which I usually enjoy, but not this week.  I work tomorrow (THANK GOD!) for one of the worst fourth grade classes I've ever seen, but oddly enough, I really enjoy working in that room. I get to bark out orders like Tommy Lee Jones does in every one of his movies

"Blah, blah blah, warehouse, farmhouse, henhouse, outhouse and doghouse blah blah blah."

and that makes me feel good and important, because like all teachers, I only went in to this profession for the power it gives me over weak and helpless children; the money; and June, July and August!  Just kidding.  I should stop giving the anti-teacher movement ammunition.  They don't need it.

Although I have been lame, I have been kicking some major ass in Angry Birds! Now that I read that last sentence, I think that is just further evidence of my lameness.  But look at my progress!

And...

And...

In case you're not a player of Angry Birds (lame-o) those are a few of my score boards and if you'll notice they all have THREE STARS!  That's perfection, my friends. 

So what has been making me feel so bad about myself this week?  I feel bad that I lost the frog again.  He's in the house somewhere getting drier and drier, I can just feel it.  Either that or there is a thriving community of tree frogs in my house that are mostly really good at staying out of sight.  Who knows.  I never once saw that frog poop.  Isn't that weird?  And I am also getting anxious about traveling with my children across the country by myself.  Mitch has to stay here and work so I can afford to take the kids on fabulous vacations.  I'm pretty much ready for the trip, I think, but I keep thinking of the worst things that could happen, like losing a kid in an airport bathroom, or dying in a fiery plane crash.  That would suck.  But I have to get out there and do stuff or else I end up feeling lame for sitting around my house with my thumb up my butt.  (In my defense, I never actually had my thumb up my butt.)  

Just Because I Can (not a Conway Twitty song)(I don't think)

Guess what?  I HAVE INTERNET AGAIN!  The reasons why we were without it for so long are boring and confusing, let's just say that my husband is a GENIUS and now we have it again!

Let's see, what information have I been holding in that I've not been able to spew without planning for an outing to the library or a coffee shop?...  Well, now that I have all the freedom and comfort and convenience in the world, I don't really have anything important to say.  How about a little live-blogging:  Mitch just told me he has a Conway Twitty cassette tape somewhere.

Mitch says he likes Conway because he's the "whole package," meaning that he's got the dancing, the hair, the wonderful lyrics that make uncomfortable allusions to date-rape.  Who wouldn't love him?  Probably all of his muses.  No means no, Conway.

Remember the frog I told you about that I found in the bathroom, and then lost a few days later somewhere in the house, and then found again in the bathroom?  Well, I lost him again.  I suspect he's somewhere in the bathroom.  He's a wily little fella.  I wish he'd come back because I really enjoy feeding him flies.  Now when I see a fly I think to myself, "Wow, look at that fly, it's so fat!  I bet the frog would love it!"

I'm taking a trip with my kids next week to Washington DC to see all the sights and stuff my kids' brains with knowledge and experience.  I am SO GLAD the stupid government didn't shut down or I don't know what we would have done.  Probably protested at the capitol, and what's more fun that standing around all day with your mother and 10,000 angry strangers yelling at a building?  Most things.  The kids don't know how lucky they are.  

That's it until the next inane thought pops into my head!

Edison Award in the family! (no, you shut up!)

I think I mentioned this before, by my brother-in-law is kind of a big deal.  The company he founded won the Edison Award for the medical device, the Phrazer, that he invented. 

Check it out!

While Mat was off in New York, accepting his award, I lost my new pet frog somewhere in the house, and then I found him again three days later in the bathroom!  Yay!  We're all winners!  Congratulations Mat!

The Dark Ages

I have been without wifi at home for over a week now.  How did I ever live without the internet?  What kind of existence did I have if I couldn't find out within minutes what the R. in Edward R. Murrow stands for (Rocky), if cabbits are a real thing or if Mitch was just lying to me again (lying), or what is the meanest animal in the animal kingdom (honey badgers)?  I had vivid dreams last night about looking out at our wifi receiver thingy and seeing five red lights indicating that not only do we have internet, but we have super fast internet, but when I jumped out of bed to look to see if it was real, I saw that it wasn't.  I am doomed to another day of ignorance and hardship. 

Last time I had internet access I had a list of things I had to look up.  For one thing, I had to find out what kind of frog I found in my bathroom, and how to take care of it and feed it.  Can you believe that 15 or 20 years ago people who found frogs in their bathroom would have to go to the library and find a book about frogs?  And failing that, they would have to talk to strangers who might know more about frogs than they do.  TALK TO STRANGERS!  Ugh!  Just kidding.  I like talking to strangers as much as I like talking to anyone.  Especially people I will never see again.  That way there's no pressure to be on your best behavior or to try to be normal, and without the pressure it is, ironically, a lot easier to be normal.  Weird. 

Anyway, I took excellent care of the frog and he was eating the live flies I caught for him, and I think he also ate the centipede I found.  He was looking fat and moist and happy, and then one morning I looked in his home and he was gone.  He escaped.  I crawled around on my knees looking for him for a while, but I didn't find him.  He's gone.  Now I realize that I have given you the impression that my house is full of flies (dead and alive), centipedes, frogs and god knows what else.  I can just imagine the pictures you have in your head of my life style and living space.  I can't deny that yes, I do, apparently live among flies (alive and dead), centipedes, the occasional frog among other things; but despite experiencing at least four of the ten biblical plagues while sitting in my living room, it is quite pleasant and comfortable.  This is rural life, people!  We live with the wild life and without the internet!  I am exactly like Laura Ingalls Wilder.  I'm going to start telling people Mitch's real name is Manly.  (Remember?  Laura was married to Almonzo "Manly" Wilder?) 

Oh, Manly!

I am "working" right now for a social studies teacher that has all AP classes and one yearbook class.  It is so easy which almost balances out the days that I have to teach kindergarten or have to babysit ninth graders.  Almost.  In her instructions for her yearbook class she wrote, "Just have them do whatever."  OKAY!  I can definitely have them do "whatever" especially if "whatever" includes making them give me foot rubs and getting me candy from the vending machines.

Kira in the Car (Part I can't even remember. A lot. Roman numerals may have been a mistake)

Kira: Dad, What is the thickest piece of beef jerky you ever saw?

Mitch: (thinking it was the beginning of a joke or an opening for a story about the thickest piece of beef jerky she has ever seen) I don't know, Kira.  What is the thickest piece of beef jerky you have ever seen?

Kira:  (exasperated) I don't know!  Why do you think I'm asking you?

April Fool

I STILL don't have internet at home.  You know what?  Not having internet at home is exactly like being blind.  I want to know what a frog eats but can I just google it and find out?  NOOOO.... no internet.  So I just have to assume that they eat flies and that it doesn't matter if they are dead or not.  I want to know if centipedes bite people on the feet when they are sleeping, but can I find out?  No, not unless I get up at five o'clock in the morning and drive down the road and steal wifi from a neighbor, but my foot hurts from what I strongly suspect is a centipede bite, and I'm tired from a fitful night of almost no sleep because of bad dreams about shooting off into space, and guess what else is going on?  I HAVE ANOTHER TOOTH ACHE.  I have the worst teeth in the world.  I think they must be only slightly more durable than the peppermints my grandma used to keep in her car, which were hard as rocks, but dissolved with the tiniest bit of saliva (much like my teeth).

On April Fool's day I really wanted to get Kira with some kind of practical joke because she is constantly torturing me.  Lately her favorite method is to sneak up on me and pinch the skinny fat on the back of my arms or on my sides or on my thighs (anywhere, really) and say, "I'M PINCHING YOUR TENDERS!" and then laugh maniacally while I try to wriggle out of her iron-like grip.  She's going to be stronger than me soon and I am very very worried about that day.  So I took this plastic spider:

And taped it to the under-side of the toilet seat so when she lifted it she would get startled and scream.  Well, it turns out my girl has a bladder the size of a hot air balloon and only goes to the bathroom about twice a day so she never saw it on the toilet because she used the downstairs bathroom (note to self: next year, booby trap all toilets).  I did manage to forget about it and scared myself almost out of my wits when I lifted the toilet seat right before bed, and I slammed the lid back down and the spider broke free of the tape and fell in the toilet.  I disgustedly threw it in to the tub, with the idea that I'd disinfect it the next day (by throwing it in the garbage), but I forgot about it again and startled myself when I pulled the shower curtain back to take a shower.  That joke totally backfired.

I also put a little rubber snake in Kira's bed.  She didn't even notice.  The next morning I went in the bathroom to take a shower and saw a little plastic frog on the rug.  I thought Kira was trying to get me back for leaving the snake or the spider, so I was just going to pick it up and throw it out of the bathroom, but when I went to pick it up, IT HOPPED AWAY.  It is a real live frog!  It came to live with me!  I have no idea where it came from or how it got in the house, but I love him like a child now.  We made him a habitat in a big tupperware tub with a plant, a bunch of leaves, some sticks and a saucer of water.  I cover it with a damp towel and I set the whole thing on a heating pad.  The problem is what to feed the little guy because he's looking a little thin to me.

Don't you think his hips look a little bony?

All I could think of was flies so Kira trapped some live ones that are still buzzing around between the windows and I threw in some dead ones too for good measure, you know, in case he doesn't feel like hunting.  Mitch says he doesn't want to eat dead flies but how does he know?  See how important google is?  Yesterday morning I spotted a disgusting little centipede walking across the livingroom carpet so Mitch said to put it in with the frog because that would be a good meal.  I don't know if frogs like centipedes or if they think they are disgusting, and that is one of the things on my list to find out while I sit here in Mitch's office looking like a professional, and soak up a weekend's worth of wifi. (I just looked up pictures of centipedes and I had to stop because they are so gross.  The one in my house was only about an inch long, not the size of an adult human hand, like the ones I just saw.  Oh Christ, what if it's just a baby and doubles it's size every day? Shit shit shit!)

I made Kira put the centipede in the habitat because I find centipedes to be one of nature's most horrible jokes, and now I can't stop thinking about it.  I keep checking to make sure it is still in the habitat, and didn't somehow get out, but half the time I can't see it because it's hiding, and the other half the time, when I do spot it, it just grosses me out even more.  And do they bite?  Is it going to hurt my frog?  I have to find that out too.  I have tiny sore spot on my foot that I noticed at about three in the morning and in my sleep-deprived stupor I convinced myself that the centipede got out of the habitat and came into my bed and bit me.  My foot still hurts, so something definitely happened, and if it wasn't a centipede bite then what was it?  There is no other explanation, so now, when I go home I'm going to have to search through the habitat and find the centipede and kill it so it doesn't hurt my frog.

I know I'm rambling but I don't know when I will get a chance to blog again without making an effort to haul my computer out of the house.  This post is too long but I don't want to stop because I have so much more to tell you!  I'm afraid of space!  I ate six cupcakes on Saturday!  I think I might need another root canal!  I only slept 2 hours last night!  More later....

Update:  HOLY SHIT!  I just looked up centipedes and they DO bite, and their bites are venomous!  What evil have I brought on my little frog.  I better go home.  Centipedes have fangs on the underside of their heads much like spider fangs!  Gross!  I vaguely remember that they are poisonous because once Magnum got bit by a centipede when he was trapped under an airplane fuselage in the jungle and he was majorly tripping.

UPDATE #2:  Frogs eat bugs.  Captive frogs are supposed to eat meal worms or crickets.  There is no way in hell I'm buying crickets because they are only slightly less disgusting than centipedes, and I can just imagine how the car ride home would go with them in their little box and me gagging and writhing just thinking about them. And meal worms, please, like I'm going to pay money for something about as appealing as vomit.  Sorry frog!  I'll try to attract some moths at night, but until I find something that's not totally gross or poisonous, he'll have to settle for dead flies.

Update #3:  I'm now pretty sure I have had a centipede bite.  I can feel the poison coursing through my veins.

I missed you!

OH MY GOD!  I haven't had internet for days and days!  I can get email on my phone and if I'm absolutely desperate I can get on the internet and look at blogs on my phone too, but the screen: she's so very very tiny, it was hard.  I don't know what the heck is wrong with our wi-fi.  It's really starting to get on my nerves.  Anyhoo, since I had no internet service I did things like clean the house, and pay attention to my children, and read books.  BOOORRRIIINNNGGG!!!  Just kidding.  I finished reading Roots and like I've mentioned before, it was hard to read because of how horrible slavery is, so after I finished it I thought, I have to read something totally different, and hopefully lighter.  So I picked up a book I got for Christmas and it was about a mother and a daughter.  Sweet!  I have a daughter!  But after I got into it, I realized it was mostly about the Holocaust.  You know what's more horrible than mid 19th century Southern white slave owners?  Nazis.  Hello again, nightmares!

Last night I went to book club, and I have to say, I love my new book club.  Sure, the book we read was good and we talked about it and all; but we also talked about hot-flashes, fiber-intake (complete with a sample of our hostess's delicious chewable fiber pills), public farting, the Bristol Stool Scale (which I forgot the name of so just googled "broman's poop chart" and got the desired results.  I love you, Google!)

When Dana brought up the poop chart on her computer for us to see, I was pretty proud because I am number one all the way, and number one is the best right?

 Apparently not.  A person should be aiming for number four.  Yeah, that's right.  Number four. 

Then we talked and talked about all kinds of stuff, and one of the ladies told the funniest story.  She said when she was young she heard a joke that she didn't get, but everyone who heard it laughed at it, so she laughed too, and later when she was having dinner with her parents she thought they might like to hear the funny joke.  The joke was "What is better than roses on your piano?  Tulips on your organ."  (get it, two lips).  She told the joke to her parents and then laughed and laughed, and not until years later did she finally get the joke and was immediately mortified that she told an oral sex joke to her parents at the dinner table. 

I'm still laughing about it.

My Blog Friend KADY!

This week my featured blog friend is Kady from A Lady Reveals Nothing.  She is one of my favorite bloggers, and she is actually the person who got me in to blogging in the first place.  She is HILAR!  She is a world traveler, loves good food, a nice bathroom and the occasional human pyramid (that is not even a euphemism for something kinky,  I don't think, it's actual human pyramids.)

See?

Currently she is in Central America somewhere, getting ready to visit Machu Picchu.  I sent her my interview questions over a week ago and she just got back to me today which was kind of chapping my hide because yeah, yeah, yeah, traveling in the jungle yadda yadda, not a lot of internet service blah blah blah.  Whatever!  What's more important?  Your adventures and lifelong memories or my blog, huh? HUH?  

Here's our interview:

Me:  You travel a lot. What is your favorite place you've been? Why?

Kady:  I think New Zealand. EEK this question is tough, because I love everywhere! And everybody! But New Zealand was amaze-balls. There's no pesky language barrier, and it's fun driving on the wrong side of the road and the wrong side of the car.

Kady enjoying the natural beauty of New Zealand

Me: What is the most embarrassing cultural faux pas you've made on your travels?

Kady:  [talking about a trip to the flea market in Angkor Wat] A short little tiny girl came up to me and showed me some keychains and stuff in her hands, beckoning me to her store.  "Do you like my things?  Do you want to buy my things?", she said, and no, I did not want to buy her things, but she was ADORABLE.

I proceeded to say, "I like YOU!" (in baby talk) and poked her in the arm.  "You are so CUTE!", (in baby talk) and I poked her again.  She asked me again if I would like to buy something, and I continued pinching and squeezing and squinching her and calling her adorable and cute and saying that I liked her every time she asked me if I liked her stuff.  This went on for a long time.  I was about to ask her why she wasn't in school, but thought better of it, and instead asked her how OLD she was. (In baby talk.)

"Twenty-one".  She replied.

"HAHAHAAAAAAhahahahaaaHHHAAAA!!  Good one!"  I said.  "No really!  How OLD are you?!" (in baby talk).  *Pinch!

"Twenty-one."  She replied.  "I have a son.  He is 13 months old." She said.

Now her friend agreed and confirmed. "She's twenty-one."

"No WAY!  Not possible.  REALLY??  How old is she?!" (in baby talk).  *Poke!

I would not stop.  Until finally I looked closer at her tiny little face and realized that in fact she did look pretty old.  But now come on, she was like four feet tall.  Then I insisted on a photo and look how pissed off she is.

Me:  I love that story!  I have to admire you for getting a picture with her.  You look so happy and she does look a little p.o.ed.  Okay, next question:  What is the most dangerous thing you've done on your travels (or not on your travels)?

Kady:  On a trip to London, I broke from Kim and our two other friends for some alone time.  We agreed to meet back at 5pm in front of the British Museum.  I got my hair cut, bought some jewelry, and then found an Internet Cafe where I checked my email, and surfed around.  The man sitting next to me asked if I was an American.  "Why yes", I told him and then we got into a conversation about a new game that he was working on. He really wanted to break it into the American market. It was an internet based game, but he would love to show me the mocked-up literal version, and would I like to join him for some coffee?  "Why yes", I told him.  He was probably mid-fifties, from Austria, and spoke in the coolest thick Arnold-Schwarzeneggar-accented English.

I finished up on the Internet, and then followed him out onto the street. We walked a couple of blocks down the busy street past shops and then down a side street. I kept on-a-following him even into the alley off the side street. No coffee shops anywhere. No shops anywhere. 

Me:  Uh oh...

Kady:  Keep in mind that this was back in the days before International calling plans, and so I didn’t have a phone with me. Soon we arrived at an unmarked door, which led into a stairwell. A stairwell under construction. There were plastic sheets hanging from the ceiling, draped in the way.

Me:  OH MY GOD!  You mean like a Dexter style "kill room???"  You turned around and ran, right???

Kady:   I kept on-a-following him right on up, contorting myself to avoid the scaffolding. It wasn’t until the second story that the self-preserving thought popped into my head: "this doesn’t feel right." Did I turn and run? 

Me:  DID YOU???

Kady:  NO! I wouldn’t want to hurt his feelings! Just then, he opened another door, and there we were, in the coffee shop. Where he bought me a coffee and showed me his game.  Then we shook hands and parted ways and I safely met Kim at 5pm.  In front of the British Museum.  As planned.

Me:  Oh geez.  Your parents are going to be ticked when they read that story.  But it turned out not to be dangerous at all.  I think what you did last week might be more dangerous:

This is a picture of you getting an injection of "vitamin B" from a doctor some guy outside a women's bathroom in Central America.  That seems a little more dangerous than having coffee with an Austrian and playing a computer game.  

Okay, back to the questions:  What are your five favorite blogs?

Kady:   www.perezhilton.com,  www.thesartorialist.com, So What Else? (and I'm not just saying that) www.yesandyes.org (I am so jealous of this girl and her blog.), and www.kcanedo.blogspot.com

How many is that?

Me:  That's um...five (???), and you're so sweet, (of course I'm choosing to interview only people who like me and even if you didn't say you loved my blog I'd write it in that you did anyway.)  I also LOVE Brutalism's blog at kcanedo.blogspot.com.  She is hilarious!

Okay, final question:  Why don't you have a super-popular travel show? Then you could be paid to travel and you'd be a great show host. It would be like Fear Factor on the road. Or An Idiot Abroad, have you seen that? I'd watch your travel show.

Kady:  I suppose because I don't know how to count? Seriously, I have fantasized about this subject a ton (p.s. my show would have been called "An Idiot Travels the World" before what's-his-face stole it), but I realized it wouldn't work. I think sometimes 'extreme extroverts' don't have a ton of 'confidence' when people are 'looking at them'. I suppose this is also the answer to the question of "why do you do ugly face whenever somebody is taking a photo of you?" 

Ugly face?  Whatever do you mean?

Another good answer to both questions would be, "I don't know. So?"

Maybe I'm more suited to radio. Do you have any influence at the radio? I should see if I can get a hold of Larry Banister. (ooh snap! an International Falls circa 1990 reference!)

Me:  Yeah, good one.  The nerdiest DJ name in the history of DJ names.  Named himself after a railing.  No, you are not suited to radio because when something like this happens:

I want to see it on TV.  

Thank you so much for answering all my questions!  I hope you get a million followers and someday, FINALLY get your own show!  It would be the funniest thing on TV.  Check her out everybody!

These are the people in your neighborhood

There is a little grocery store down the road from our house, right next to Kira's school.  It's owned by a couple, and the wife half of the couple is so nice and so pretty and smart etc. etc. that I've always liked her/admired her/ been intimidated by her.  But I mostly like her and for some reason it's important to me that she doesn't think of me as an idiot.  I've always tried to be on my best behavior in all my dealings with her because I think of her as such a quality person, but today I ruined 12 years of the "I'm not a freak" foundation I've been building with her.

I stopped by after work to get some bread.  No, let's go back a step:  This afternoon I worked teaching a fifth grade class, and if you have been reading the blog long enough, you know that I have shy bowels and the more I work, the less I poop, and when that happens, let's just say that nobody wins.  So I've been working all this week, and it's Thursday afternoon.  See where I'm going with this?  I have a lot of gas, which I didn't expel around people at school on purpose because I'm classy like that, even though I've gotten step by step instructions on how to get away with public farting with nobody being the wiser.  As soon as I got in the car I let it all go in an impressive (if I do say so myself!) show of flatulence.  Oh my god, did I feel better!  Then as I was driving along the road I saw the little store and I thought, "Hey!  I need bread!" so I stopped.

I went in the store, got the bread, and then noticed that they had 12 packs of diet coke on sale so I picked up four.  I went to pay and the pretty owner-lady was running the cash register and she insisted that I be helped outside with my hoard of coke and bread, which is fine because I thought she'd just call one of her teenage stock people, but no, she insisted on helping me herself, which I thought was nice because hey, maybe she likes me!  Tee hee!  I thought that all my diligent efforts towards normalcy around her has finally paid off and maybe we could someday be friends!  But then when I opened my car door for us to put my coke in, we were enveloped by my stench which had somehow concentrated and smelled like a dead ferret in a vat of sun-warmed, week-old, boiled eggs.  I was immediately totally humiliated and thought to myself, "She can't smell it!  We're outside!  The wind is blowing!" but then I saw her stop breathing out of her nose and start breathing out of her mouth and I wanted to die.  DIE, I tell you!  What do you say in that situation:  "I didn't know pop was on sale or else I would have held it in a little longer?" or  "I really have to poop?"  or "WHAT!?"  None of those seemed appropriate so I just didn't say anything at all.

Why did it have to be the grocery woman that I for some reason have a lady-crush on?  Why couldn't it have been that awful woman who works at the pharmacy who punches the touch screen with her fingernails?  Or anyone at Sam's Club?  Why do I constantly have to humiliate myself in front of people I want to impress?  This is why I don't have friends.

Nightmares

You know what tends to give a gal nightmares every single night?  Reading a terrifying, yet utterly compelling book about the horrors of slavery.  I've been reading Roots by Alex Haley lately.  I've always wanted to read it because I remember when the mini-series was on TV and anyone who was anyone was watching it (I didn't watch it.  I was SEVEN.)  It was a TV EVENT that hardly anyone missed and people still talk about it today. And also, I am a little bit in love with LeVar Burton, that Reading Rainbow Sexpot.



So anyway, I've been reading the book and have nightmares every night about babies getting taken away and the parents not able to do anything about it, which makes sense because that kind of stuff happens in the book, but I'm also having dreams where family members get diagnosed with cancer, and people play baseball with onions, and my dog grows little hands and puts a rat in the rowboat I am riding in.  I am going to be happy when the book is over so maybe the dreams will go away.  I knew slavery sucked, but I guess I didn't realize the intense depths to which it sucked.  Suffice it to say that Southern whites of the late 18th century were not very nice people.  Every day of Kunta Kinte's life of slavery is a nightmare, even though as a slave he's treated better than most.  It's hard to stand it, but what does one do about it now?  One of the main themes of the book is self-identity and knowing who you are, and what you stand for and where you come from.  I'd love to read it with a class someday but there are about five pages of sex parts that would make it inappropriate for school.  Also it's almost 900 pages.  Not really manageable for the average high school student.  And I don't have a job. That puts a damper on all current lesson plans.

Happy Vernal Equinox and Birthday! (birthday applies to Aunt Sarah only)

Hey!  Never mind the fresh snow on the deck and the freezing temperatures!

It's SPRING!

It's also the birthday of the best Aunt a gal could ask for!  Happy Birthday Sarah!  21 more to go!   Make the most of them!

(your present is going to be late because I originally got you some Cadbury Cream Eggs, but I ate one, and then thought it would be tacky to send you an opened package of Cream Eggs, so I ate the rest and got you something from Amazon instead.  Enjoy!)

How dare he know me so well...

I've been reading a lot about tribal life lately.  I read the book One Thousand White Women for book club. It's a fictionalized account of a secret government program in the 1870s where 1000 women were recruited to be Cheyenne brides and have children with the Indians so that the two cultures would be assimilated peacefully. (Didn't work.)  Now I'm reading Roots by Alex Haley and the beginning of the book is all about African tribal life in the 1700s.  Tribal life seemed to work pretty well for lots of people for thousands of years.  Tribal life is pretty cool!  Now I want to try tribal life! 

I casually told Mitch about the books and he listened to me and said "mm hmm" every now and then, and I thought I was mostly just talking to myself until I said, "I like tribal life.  I'd like to try it," and he said, "YOU WOULD HATE TRIBAL LIFE!  YOU WOULD BE TERRIBLE AT IT!" 

Um, excuse me?  How offensive.  How can this man who has only known me more than half my life know if I would or would not be terrible at tribal life?  So what if I'm not exactly a social butterfly, am a bit of a feminist, would prefer to do things by myself, and am not crazy about camping-out.  SO WHAT.  When I got mad and told him if we were living the tribal life, I'd kick him out of my lodge/hut for insulting me so, he said, "See! You can't even get along with me!  You'd be SO BAD AT TRIBAL LIFE!"

Kira in the Car Part XV

"Dad, What two plants would you least like to use as toilet paper?  For me it's venus fly traps and poison ivy."

More Prolife Across America billboard weirdness

When I was driving the other day I saw another one of Prolife Across America's billboards.

"OMG, I dreamed that I was grown up and I had no reproductive rights!
 Then I woke up relieved because, Whew!  I'm a boy!

I suppose year after year of trying to convince women not to abort their pregnancies can get a little tedious so they have to come up with new and original ideas but why so strange?  How does anyone know that the little fetuses are dreaming at all much less at the specific time of 17 weeks from conception?  I suspect they are just making this stuff up.  When I was looking for this picture I found another billboard that I have not actually seen in real life and I'm glad I haven't because if I saw it while driving I would probably crash my car for all of it's weirdness:

The other billboards are about heartbeats, and dreams and being the boss of the house, but this one is about arms.  That seems strange.  This little biker baby was happiest 28 days after conception when he could stick his little arm buds out and pretend to be riding the Harley Davidson he'd been dreaming about. (oops, sorry, he didn't dream of his Harley until 17 weeks.  Sorry Fetus!  You might have arm buds, but you won't be able to dream of your Harley for 91 more days! Ha-ha, little Fetus!)

Kira in the Car Part XIV

Dad, do you think if you snuck up on a bee and scared him, he'd poop out a little bit of pollen?

My Blog Friend JANE!

Hi Everyone!  I just returned from International Falls where I was being AUNT OF THE YEAR (suck on that, Amy) It's time to write another installment of my new blog feature where I interview a fellow-blogger friend.  This week it is Jane from Jane's Junk and Treasures.  She's been visiting my blog for a long long time and she really likes when I write about Kira.  She thinks Kira is pretty special which is good because now when I send Kira to Colorado to spend two weeks with Jane this summer she'll be excited and not feel inconvenienced and taken-advantage of.  Win Win! 

Here's my interview with Jane.

Me:  Hi Jane!  Thanks for agreeing to answer my questions!  If you wouldn't have agreed to it I would have been forced to use my own answers which, I'm afraid, might have made you look a little weird.  So Whew!  Dodged that bullet!  Okay, here we go.  What are your three best qualities?

Jane:  I'm kind of like Snow White, animals love me!  Seriously, the just come around me!  I can talk to them and they talk to me. They don't break out in song or anything like they do with Snow White because, well,  because that would be crazy.

Me:  I'm kind of jealous of that because I like animals but the only ones that really are drawn to me seem to be mice.  And they don't like to hang around with me and be delightful and help me sew nice dresses, they mostly like to poop tons and tons of little pellets in my house. Okay, what else?

Jane:  I'm planning my 30 year class reunion this summer, with no help, for 650 people, all whom I found on Facebook!  Every single person has offered up which dates work for them and which place they would like the reunion party, BUT of course  they don't want to spend more than $40 per person.......and want a full dinner, dancing and an OPEN bar...........


The fact that I haven't stabbed, bludgeoned or just slapped one of my fellow classmates is a FINE quality!!!

Me:  I agree!  I, on the other hand, would rather rot in hell than plan a class reunion, and I think several of my classmates are constantly holding back from slapping me at all times.  Okay, that's two great things about you, one more...

Jane:  I will re-arrange your furniture and knick knacks in your house whether you ask to or not. 
The Boyfriend says it's rude but when I'm done, trust me your house will look much better!

Me:  I believe it!  I've seen some of the closets you've organized.  What would you suggest I do with this?

Jane: ....

Me:  ...Well.  Okay.  Moving on:  You do lots of cool projects in and around your home.  What was your favorite?

Jane:  Everything!! It was a broken down horribly decorated hot mess!!!  It had navy blue carpet in the living room and hunter green carpet in the bedroom!!  Really, no one favorite thing!  I love to come home to my little house!  And to get mushy, there is no place I'd rather be than in my house...in fact I'm not leaving.....what's that called...?

Me:  I think that's called agoraphobia or in lay terms, "being a nutcase."  Just kidding.  You're not a nutcase!

(???)

Here are some pics:

Me:  VERY cute!  But I have a question, where do you keep your piles of clean but not quite folded laundry if not on the living room couch?  

Jane: I know.... my best idea I did.....every door has an antique door knob and none of them match!! I love it!!

Me:  What do you think is the scariest: a serial killer, a tax audit, or a bear?

Jane:  Serial killer........ I'm too into those shows and Dexter. Nope not scary.


I don't make any money so the IRS will never bother me, I'd be a waste of their time.


Bears.......Sarah it's bears that brought us together in blog land to the wonderful friends we are today!


I did see a movie in Jr High called Grizzly, that scared the crap out of me!!!
Of course the bear shredded each of the unsuspecting teenagers, camping in the woods that was clearly marked Beware of Bears!!!

Me:  Anyone who sees a sign that says "Beware of Bears" and goes right on ahead and camps there anyway deserves to have their faces eaten.  You are totally right.  Bears are the scariest. 

What are your five favorite blogs? 

Jane:  All of the decorating blogs out there!  There are millions!!  Seriously!!  These women are crazy good and creative.  Go to my side bar or my dashboard and hit any of them!!  I guarantee you'll find something you like!

Mamie Jane is amazing!  And her name is Jane!

The Bloggess, Jenny's mind works in such mysterious amazing ways!  She makes me laugh!

Me:  I love the Bloggess.  She's one of my faves too.

Motherhood In New York City - Marinka - Hilar i ous!!!

And of course YOU!! 

Me:  Awwww...

Jane:  Sarah you make me snort, sometimes I laugh so hard at you, or is it, with you I have tears.

Me:  You're so sweet... Go on...

Jane:  And your daughter, just plain weird!! And I mean that in an affectionate way! (We'll see how affectionate you feel about her at the end of the summer.  Did I say I'd send her to you for two weeks?  I meant two three months.  Enjoy!)

Me:  If you could have dinner with any person in the world, living or dead (they'd be alive for your dinner), who would it be and why?

The first name that came to mind was Oprah.  

But now that I've seen that behind the scene Oprah on OWN, the OP seems kind of bossy, and I'm all OPRAH!! King of the worldish .........

The Donald! Have you seen his place!! Really, all that gold, so tacky!  He needs me!

Me:  He needs something, but I think he might benefit more from a haircut and a punch in the face than a home makeover.

Jane:  Thanks, Sarah, for the interview!


Me:  You are so welcome, and thank you for being interviewed!


Jane:  I threw in one last picture of Sweet Pea, my very wise chicken!

Me:  Now I feel like I have to also put up a picture of my old chicken (rooster) Stuart, who wasn't wise as much as he was homicidal and a serial chicken-rapist. Not the best pet or coop-mate.  Sweet Pea is lucky she never met him.  But talk about handsome!

Jane:  If I'm ever up your way I'll  stop by and re-arrange your house!


Me:  ANY TIME!  

Next week I'm going to interview I don't know who yet!  Do you want to be interviewed?  Well, do you?
Okay KADY!  You're on!

Gargamel

My new niece is born!  She was 8 lbs and some ounces, (I don't know, I'm not that good of an aunt.)  She has thick black feathery hair.  She's adorable! (for a newborn which, let's face it, newborns aren't all that cute.)

Here she is with her big sister:

Big sister, Sidney, is not all that impressed.  The novelty of having a new sister wore off really fast when the baby pooped and everyone made a big deal about it.  Nobody thinks it's all that great when Sidney craps her pants anymore so I suppose she is thinking, What's the big deal, I do that every day?  When I came to the hospital shortly after the momentous crappy diaper, I said, "What do you think of your sister?" and she said, "Baby stinks." 

Beth still hasn't decided on a name so we've been calling her Gargamel.  She is going to wait until tomorrow because she is so drugged up and loopy and exhausted right now.  She was scheduled to have a c-section this morning at 8 am, but went into labor last night and went through several hours of contractions until they brought her into the operating room around 3:30.  Fun!  So she's had no sleep, pain, been cut practically in half, had a person removed from her abdomen, and had her fundus massaged repeatedly.  If you don't know what that is, believe me when I tell you that nothing makes you want to punch a nurse in the face as much as when they massage your fundus after a c-section.  I wouldn't even want my fundus massaged on a normal day, much less on a surgery day.  Leave my fundus alone!

Name my sister's baby!/ Yay for girls!

Hello everyone.  I'm finally recovered from my horrible day yesterday.  I zoned out in front of the tv, ignored my family, ate pizza and wallowed in my flop-sweat pretzel smell last night.  Today I got up and showered and scrubbed that awful day out of my (pit)hair and I'm not looking back.  Today is looking much more promising because I'm working half a day in a fifth grade class that I really like and there is a student teacher. 

Then this afternoon I'm driving up to International Falls so I can be there when my new niece is born tomorrow morning!  I can't wait.  I asked Beth what she was planning on naming her new baby and she won't tell me.  She just keeps saying Gargamel, but I hope that's not really it.  Sam thinks she should name her Astird, and I said, "Do you mean Astrid?" but he says no, he means Astird.  You know how the name you give your child determines to some extent the success they will have?  I don't think the names Astird or Gargamel are very high on the success list.  What do you guys think she should name the baby?  You tell me in the comments and if she chooses one of the names you pick, I will send you a prize!  I will post pics tomorrow.

And I would like everyone to check out this post written yesterday from Milk and Cake.  She said everything I think, in a better way than I ever could.  Awesome!

How to kill a mood

Last night Mitch and I were having a little "alone time" and things were looking promising for a little mommy/daddy time (if-you-know-what-I-mean.)  We were just talking and I asked the following question:

"Have you ever farted, but it doesn't come out where it usually comes out, it travels up your crack and comes out the very top and kind of pops out?  Like it's coming out your lower back instead of your butt?"

Not that I wanted to do this, but if you ever want to kill a mood, ask your husband/wife that question.  Any attraction or sexual tension there was will be gone in a flash.  And I don't know why because it's not like gas is a taboo subject between the two of us.  We are very similar in our rate of gaseous expulsions.  It's part of what makes us such a compatible couple.  I think it was the traveling of the fart that killed any desire he had for me.  Apparently he has not experienced a traveling fart and the unique feeling of having a gas bubble pop out of his lower back, and it was just too much for him to think about.  You'd think my ability to do that would enhance our intimacy, not hinder it.  I've found a way to make the gas come out farther away from my lady business.  Isn't that a good thing?

Can anyone else do this?  Have I just killed your love for me too?

All About Eva (nyuk nyuk)

As I said in my last post, I'm going to start posting about some of my followers and best commenters.  First off is Eva.  If you have read my comments for the past several months you will have noticed that there is nobody who is a more faithful commenter than Eva!   Eva writes a blog called Wrestling with Retirment and she is getting pretty darn close to having 500 followers!   Alright Eva!  She lives in Maine but I've never talked to her so I don't know if she has a crazy accent.

I asked Eva some (lame) questions and she wrote back to me with her answers.  

Me:  Okay Eva, Today is all about you!  First of all, describe your blog in ONE WORD.  

Eva: Warped.

Me:  Alright, what is your Least favorite color?  I said LEAST favorite, not FAVORITE.  See what I'm doing?  I'm being edgy.  (Barbara Walters can suck it)

Eva:  Brown....it looks terrible on me.  

Me:  I don't like brown either, but it looks nice on me so that's kind of worse, don't you think?  If you could go back in time and change one thing, what would it be and why would you change it?

Eva:   I'd be scared to do that, because who knows what else it might change......Well, When I left teaching I withdrew my retirement funds and started my own business....Classy Lady:  a ladies boutique with sizes 14 and up.   It was 1991 and not the best time in the economy; I didn't have enough start up money to stay afloat and ended going bankrupt.  Lost my house, two cars, etc.   Had to start all over from scratch.  I guess if I'd invested those funds instead of starting a business, today my house would be paid for, I'd have the money to travel wherever I want, and wouldn't have to worry about paying my bills.  (But who knows if that really would have happened?)

Me:  It was pretty gutsy of you to try!  I'm sorry it didn't work out for you.  Okay, next question:  What are your 5 favorite blogs: 

Eva:   Debbie Does Drivel,   In Jayne's World,  Knucklehead.  The LG Report,  and Mental Poo

        I actually follow about 150 blogs,  and there are more that I adore.   These were just the first that came to mind.   Mental Poo is very R-rated and not  for the faint of heart, but he totally cracks me up.   I follow him on Twitter and we're friends on facebook.  I can't get enough of his humor!

Me:  Wow, Eva.  You are really a social-media butterfly!  I can't get in to Twitter.  Last question:  What is the dumbest thing you have ever spent money on?  

Eva:  An elliptical machine....it was expensive, huge, and after a couple of weeks I lost interest in it.   But most of the time I tend to be pretty frugal....almost tight.   (Although I do love to eat out....as you know from my Sunday's in My Neck of the Woods!

Me:  Thanks Eva!  Everyone go check out her blog and her favorite blogs.  Next week Jane from Jane's Junk and Treasures.  (I haven't asked her yet, but if she says no I'll just make some stuff up.  NO, I did not just make the Eva interview up.  Honest!  You can ask her!)

Blog business

Hi Fellas.  I know most of you who read this aren't fellas, but gals, but I felt like saying fellas because I just don't know why.  That reminds me of this one time when Sam was about three years old and we saw him talking to some people we didn't know so we asked him who those people were and he said, "Oh, they're just folk."  He was so friendly and cute.  I'm shocked nobody tried to kidnap him.  But I suppose every mother is a little insulted that more people don't envy their perfect children.

Okay, blog business.  I am starting a new feature on my blog where I interview (lamely) either a commenter or a follower and link to their blog (or if they don't have a blog, their favorite blog).  It's my way of "giving back" (now I hate myself just a little for using the phrase "giving back" like a douchebag) to the people who are nice enough to read my blog or click the follow button.  Partially it's because I want to get to know you people a little better, but mostly it's because I've been stuck on 59 followers and I either need to get up to 60 or just delete the follower feature off my sidebar because having 59 BUGS ME.

Also, I read somewhere that March is the biggest dieting month of the year so I thought this would be a good time to remind you all of the diet blog I contribute to, The Chunkersons.  I posted just this evening about my big eating extravaganza yesterday and also how I just finished reading a book about the Donner Party and because I'm so hungry, I can't stop myself from having unwelcome thoughts about what parts of Mitch would taste the best. (shoulders, hams.)  But I've lost nine pounds so far and my pants aren't fart-inducingly tight anymore so that's good, right?  That's totally worth having cannibalistic urges isn't it?  ISN'T IT?

More third graders

I had another good day with the third graders.  One of the things they did today that made me laugh was during a vocabulary quiz.  They were supposed to match the word to the definition.  One of the words was "decent" and the definition that was supposed to match it was, "what you might call a good and fair person,"  and another w was "inherit"  and the definition that matched it was "receiving a gift of money or property from a family member."  About two thirds of the kids said that they thought getting a gift of money or property from a family member was decent.  I don't know.  It made me laugh.

And then later we were reading about San Francisco and we got to the end of the chapter and there were some questions and one of them was, "Do you have any stories about your community?" and whenever they are asked to tell a story, every hand shoots up in the air.  I chose five kids to share their stories with us.  My favorite was from a kid who said the following:

"One time at my house we got a big box delivered to us and I asked my dad what was in it and he told me to look, and he threw me his pocket knife.  I cut the tape on the box open really fast and accidentally cut my hand right here (pointing to his hand).  Boy did it ever bleed!  My mom saw it and said, "What the H did you give him a knife for?" and my dad said that he didn't think I'd cut my hand open.  Then I had to go to the hospital."