Don't make me write...

I'm busy writing!

Seriously-- I've been clipping along at around 8 pages a night for the last week, and I went from 610 pages before I left to 675 pages as of right about now. I'm ROARING with the story now, and thrilled and happy to be doing it--and I've been worried. I forget, sometimes, how hard writing is. I remember my initial naughty girl joy at sneaking writing time in, and hee hee hee, isn't it fun, and nobody needs to know and...

Well, now, I'm feeling a reasonable amount of pressure to not suck, and that's an AWESOME thing, and also a hard thing. Writing is no longer cute and mysterious and arty--it's down and gritty hard work that I love with all my soul, but that, let's face it, has an end product that (and I can't say this too often,) NEEDS TO NOT SUCK.

I'm saying this to explain the massive amounts of Wincest I've written in the last six months. Because, you see, I CAN'T sell the Wincest fanfiction--it is, if nothing else, FUN TO WRITE. For the most part, there are very few people who will want to read this (if you're one of the few and the pervy, let me know, I'll send you the file, but remember--it's pervy and you can't judge me!) And I felt absolutely no pressure--no pressure to keep my world's consistent, to keep my voices consistent, to keep the level of emotional commitment consistent--just no pressure. Just writing. WRiting for sex, writing for angst, writing for the sheer stinking hell of it. Believe me when I tell you that Cory's latest installment would have been a whole hell of a lot more self-conscious if it hadn't been for the joy of just writing this secret little batch of crap for nothing than the fun of it. And now that RAMPANT is drawing to a close, I'm feeling very damned satisfied with what I've done. I feel like this was a well crafted story--I could be wrong, and I've got a LOT of hard editing to come, and you all know I'll need to be talked out of the crazy tree at LEAST six more times before this puppy comes out... but...

But I think it may not suck, and I think I put a lot of work into it not sucking, and I'm sort of damned proud of that.

Anyway--in little kid news? We were watching the end of Wall-E tonight, and Ladybug kept asking Cave Troll, "Let's play catch... c'mon, Cave Troll, let's play catch! Are we ready yet?"

"No--not yet."

"Are we ready now?"

"No--not yet."

"Can we play catch now?"

"Yeah!!!" And both of them ran to the television screen, where the absolute final credits--the part with a black screen and little pictures of robots were running around... and both kids ran up and tried to catch the robots running around the screen. I laughed my ass off.

And also in little kid news? I made the mistake of patting Ladybug on the keester and talking about her 'squishy bum'--the Cave Troll wanted me to tell him he had a 'squishy bum' too. Sadly, I could not. The bones in that kid's razor sharp ass could cut steel cable. I had to tell him he had a 'bony bum', and he must have pinched his own ass for half an hour, trying to reassure me it was squishy. For the record, this behavior does nothing to mitigate the impression made by the fact that all his shirts are too short and go up over his belly button and all his shorts fall to his hipbones. (My non-politically-correct daughter keeps telling me that he looks like we shop at Gay-Babies-R-us. I shouldn't laugh at this. I really shouldn't.)

And in knitting news? I really need to post these to Ravelry... but in the meantime...

The temperature today is: 108

And it feels like it.

I took the kids out to visit my grandma, and by the time we got home, we were both wrecked. Of course, part of that might have to do with getting to bed late because I'm writing, and waking up early because the two short people have taken to sleeping perpendicular to us. Mate woke me up with his patented "YAAAAARRRRGGHHHHHH!!!" and then went back to sleep after I got up and gave him more room.

And really--it's been us--hiding in the air conditioning, hoping the heat doesn't get in. I finally sent the short people out about five minutes ago (it's seven-thirty at night) so they can get exhausted enough to sleep tonight... but mostly, I feel like a you-tube video knit-tech sent me... uhm, Three guesses who's in it!

But I've been writing--uhm, have I been writing. I got all excited today after three pages of prose, and I was dancing up and down and trying to explain to mate how well it was going--"And then the vampires, they charge the good guys, and the good guys have a power shield and the Avians keep diving down to grab shit, and then Cory screams "get out of my way motherfuckers" and then...--and he just shook his head, pointed to my skull and said, "I get it, there's a lot going on up there."

*sigh * There is... but none of it makes sense until I get some peace and quiet--and that's not happening until it cools down enough to send the short people outside. oi!

But in cute kid moments? Cave Troll walked in yesterday with his hands up and bent at the elbows. "Guess what, Dad! I'm a cactus-boy!" *narf!*

And the big kids and I only have one more episode before we're caught up on Tru-blood. Am I going to hell for letting my teenagers watch this shit? Probably--but I've got a friend who's promised to bring a kiddie pool full of ice if I bring the tequila and limes. If I can sneak in a laptop, hell probably isn't a bad place, right?

In knitting news... uhm... still working on that vest for Mate--I want to finish it... but the alpaca in the heat? Even with the a/c, not such a good idea--I may have to stick to socks!

Which reminds me--I should probably update my Ravelry sometime this week--we'll see how it goes. I made something totally awesome for my T.A.-- in fact, (she says uncertainly) I may even find pictures...oops--wait. Wrong one! Too bad... I'll try again tomorrow! (hee hee hee hee)

Sleep Cooties

Okay--so she's 14 and it's summer vacation--I've STILL never seen anyone sleep as much as my daughter.

Until I got back from the pool today, that is. I was so good--light breakfast, some water, and I did my aqua aerobics class at full bore. Then I played with the kids in the pool for an hour until everything from my toes to my ass cramped. A little lunch on the way home, some more water and then...

I passed out for hours and hours and hours.

Okay--I might have been conscious for some of it, but you wouldn't know it by anything I did... no knitting, no writing, nothing but me and my drool.

Fun times! (But I'm still at 650 pages--I'm so damned happy... the end is near and I'm writing like a fiend!)

Anyway--in other news, I thought I'd take care of some vacation tidbits I left out because I had no pictures, yeah?

Fort Collins-- we met Mate's friends, Cody & Shelley in Fort Collins (and how stupid are we that we got no pictures? Plenty. But you knew that.) So, bless them and their generous natures, Cody took Mate on a pub crawl and Shelley took me on a yarn crawl to welcome us to Fort Collins. (Poor Shelley--she doesn't knit, she doesn't crochet, she just fondled the yarn and oohed-and-ahhed appropriately. I think she thought it was her penance for the Lady Cory socks, but I'll love her forever just for googling on her ed for an hour, trying to find a yarn store that no longer existed!) Anyway, Shelley found me a store called Lambspun which from the outside looked like a really big house with a restaurant attached to one side. But on the other side, there were a bunch of tiny rooms filled with yarn. *shudder* Seriously--I could have been lost there for HOURS--they had SEVERAL couches/chairs tucked around the store to just sit and knit. And while I was there we found... okay, you're not going to believe this. Truly. It was a Colorado exclusive mill, and it was (you'll just dye (hee hee), I know it) 625 yards of worsted weight, three-colored alpaca (a natural tweedy blend) for $22.95. *swoon* Yup. I bought two skeins and am improvising a vest for Mate as we speak. I'm using ebony hardwood needles and the whole thing is a total fibergasm, I don't care if I end up with a sweater that would fit one of the cousins from the Addams Family.

Of course, Mate WAS pub-crawling while we did this--Shelley texted her husband and asked if Mate's ears were turning purple. They were-- a sure sign of a good time drinking beer. We ate at a GREAT place called Butcher's Choice, and I had a really big steak. Mmmmm... Me and steak--it's a good thing.

So, all in all, a wonderful visit--I got to eat dinner with someone who likes the same books I read and dishes about Tru-Blood--fabulous time! (And I get to knit Shelley something really cool in the oncoming months... I'm so excited for her!)

And we also saw a movie-- Terminator Salvation, and I could go on about how disappointed this one left me, but I won't because I'm trying to stay awake. The fun thing was the Colorado natives who sat one row below us and entertained us before the movie. NICE people--and from what I understand, they were prototypical Colorado hippies, in their early forties, two small boys, and the Dad was a stay-at-home dad. I wanted to move up there just to be their friends (and, of course, Cody and Shelley--it could have been more 'couple's friend interaction' than Mate and I have had in years!)

And I think that's about it--but since it was only five days, I think it's safe to say we filled them well. Of course, I might feel differently about that if I was one of those insanely fit maniacs actually BIKING the Trail Ridge highway, but I'm not, so I'm pretty proud of us. We were busy and social. And now we're spending our summer vacation as the Goddess intended.

We're sleeping. A lot.

*ahh* It's all good.

I blame public television because...

* I walked in on the short people as they were watching Kim Possible, and Ladybug was on Cave Troll's back giving a two hand yank on the kid's underwear. Yup, you guessed it-- Disney taught my three year old the power wedgie.

* The teenagers and I spent a giddy five minutes coming up with acronyms for swear words. The movie Madagascar gave us 'Sugar Honey Ice Tea', Big T gave us 'Fricking Uncle Cracker King', and Chicken came up with 'Cracker Rice Arsenic Pee'-- but I was the genius who developed 'Good Orangutuangs Don't Dick Around Mentally Masturbating In Trees.'

* Ladybug fell asleep today after rolling off a big stuffed dog and into the corner of the living room next to the toy chest. When I told her father this, he looked around Chiquita the dog and said, "I didn't see her. The dog was in the way."

I looked at the giant stuffed St. Bernard she was underneath. "Two, in fact." That got me a smile from a very tired Mate--not poetry, but it was all good.

If you hear maniacal laughter...

It's because my pictures loaded...

This first one is our view in the Granby valley--it's a big sky sort of place!


"Those aren't horses!"

We were looking for the Lonesome Stone Alpaca Farm--and clearly we found it. I got some LOVELY yarn here, and we met Lily, a dog bigger than my first car. This mill has a couple of specialties--BFF, which is basically whatever the dyer felt like THAT DAY (and it was gorgeous!), BEAST which is basically what happens when you spin a fiber mill's dust buffalo, and REAL buffalo/alpaca mix, which was, as the mill owner admitted, "Fifty/fifty when it hit the drum carder--I have no idea what the ratio was when we pulled it off." The yarn was a distinctive chocolate color, and it felt like something you'd weave a rug out of. A rug that would be hypoallergenic, exothermic, and would last until the end of the human race.


This is me, at the falls just outside of Lake Granby--I don't know what my hair is doing, but my largish body is screaming "Oxygen!" The falls are pretty, though! It was worth the height--I just never realized a portable O2 tank was an option for a fully satisfying vacation!


This is Michelle from Colorado! She really is as sweet as she looks--she's also a big fan of sci-fi fantasy (uhm, yeah!) and a LOT of fun to talk to on a blazing-bright Denver afternoon. She shared her High Tea with us at the Wystone Tea Factory (I think I got that right) and we chatted about everything the Denver sci-fi con to our respective parents and how to teach kids to cook. (In my case, it's sending them to grandma, who will hopefully have better luck than she did with me!) She also gifted me with FANTABULOUS GIFTS--yarn (I WILL take a picture of my spoils tomorrow!) a quilted sock bag (which I am using right now as I wait for my pix to download) a book by Wen Spencer, spices for steak (the one thing I can cook!) and the most beaut-e-ful stitch markers EVER. (And it all came in a book bag--I just wanted to tuck her under my arm and run home with her--she was WONDERFUL!!!!) Thank you, Michelle-- you were the best part of Denver!


And this is one of the pictures from trail ridge--not one of the scary ones, but it does illustrate that 'no guard rail' thing I was talking about!


And here we've got a moose--you know, before we realized what happened AFTER the flatlands. (We were so stupid. I just can't shake my head about that enough!)


And some more pictures of the trail!



And this is Mate and I, in front of Buffalo Bill Cody's grave. (Okay--his wife was next to him--she was two years older than he was AND she outlived him--I'm guessing she gets some mention!) And yeah, I know--you probably wanted to see their final resting places, but tough. This could be the first time Mate and I have been in a picture together since before Ladybug was born, and, well, I wanted to show it off. He's still a handsome Mate and me likes him.


Maybe tomorrow I'll do some yarn porn... boum-chicka-boum-boum... but right now, I'm going to dance around the house with glee because my pictures loaded. (I'll be careful not to be too loud--Big T had two wisdom teeth out today, and he's nursing his owies, doped to the gills. Poor guy. I need to make him socks--my mom told me he'd worn the last pair I made him until the had holes in them. I'm so pleased--isn't that the fate we all want for the socks we knit?)

Just visiting friends.

OKay--so the conversation went like this:

Me: "Do you know how to get from Granby to Fort Collins?" We were going to visit friends.

Mate: "Yeah-- Google maps says just to get on 34, and it'll take us there."

Me: "Okay--I'll drive--I mean, the road couldn't possibly be any worse than the one from Denver to Granby, right?"

Okay. Someone out there KNOWS what Highway 34 is. Someone out there is LAUGHING HER ASS OFF at this conversation. For the uninitiated, may I present Highway 34 from Granby to Estes Park, Colorado.

You may notice, that this road climbs over TWELVE THOUSAND FEET and has NO GUARD RAILS. Yup, folks--click some of those pictures, and rest assured I was not a happy camper behind the wheel of a car that was just a freaky-assed twitch of the wheel between Mate and I and 12,000 feet of screaming death. Since we didn't bring our Star Trek re-entry suits with us, my only hope was that the air was so thin, we'd pass out before we hit bottom. Seriously--there was one rise, from the visitor's center to the absolute peak of the mountain, where I almost broke into tears--because the curve just seemed to hover out in mid-air, and hello, did I mention the lack of anything resembling a guard rail? Did I mention the snow banked up on the sides of the road? Did I mention we were LOOKING DOWN AT THE GODDAMNED BIRDS? I told Mate to take lots of pictures for later, but I refused to look around. At one point, there was a little hike (in the non-existent oxygen, no less) to a better view.

"Do you want to go?" Mate asked.

"No." Just no. I knew if I actually LOOKED AROUND, they'd have to airlift me back to civilization, and that's the Goddess' honest truth. As it was, you'd have to pump me full of valium and strap me to the back seat with a drool bag and color crayons before you got me in the car and up that trail again.

Parting shot?

"Hey," said Mate, "I wonder if this is called 'Rainbow Curve' because when you look out over the canyon, you can see a Rainbow."

"No," I said grimly, my knuckles white on the steering wheel, "I think it's called 'Rainbow Curve' because it's in the SHAPE OF A FUCKING RAINBOW AS IT HUGS THE MOUNTAIN."

Mate checked the map. "You know, I think you're right."

Oi. Needless to say, we took the long route around Boulder coming home in the dark.

Colorado Quickie

* Met Michelle from Colorado--in brief: Seven buckets of awesome, and she bought me lunch! (And gifts. I don't know why, but the the gifts were so wonderful I mostly tucked them under my arm and ran with them--you CAN'T have my hand quilted sock bag back, you just CAN'T!) Pictures to follow next week--Michelle, Mate and I had a BLAST!

* While we were eating 'High Tea' (mmmmm...) there was a Denver native cycling by blasting Queen from a portable car speaker. Curious. Very curious.

* We took note of the following warning sign: Attention: Correctional facility 1/2 a mile away. Do NOT pick up hitchhikers.
I shit you not.

* The road from Denver to Granby is 3x as terrifying at night.

* Granby falls is a lovely little tourist trap. Mate and I fell in happily.

* *pant* *gasp* *wheeze* 3/10 of a mile my ASS! *wheeze* *gasp* *pant* Yes folks, the air IS that thin--but the little hike was so worth it. Did I mention pictures when I get home?

* We're off to visit friends now--I'm going to spend all Monday catching up on blogs! (Am looking forward to it!)

We're here (we're here!, isn't anybody gonna give a cheer?)

We made it--it was exceptionally non-painful. Seriously-- we walked through the lines, through the airport, and into the plane. No waiting. Sort of freaked us out a little. We're leaving a LOT earlier next time!

The Rocky Mountains are... desolate. Alien. Beautiful. Dangerous. Big savage peaks, still holding onto snow with pure malice, and green wind scoured hills in between. The pine trees cling to the shale here using grit and cussedness and gnarled angry fingers, and there is the strangest sense of sky... I can not explain it. It's like being a lima bean in a big bowl-- or the Andrea Gale in the center of a calm ocean, with big granite swells in the distance, whipped to a frenzy by tectonic winds. Some of them are even spume white.

Cool. We even saw (from a distance) Longfellow's Cross of Snow-- frigid fucking poem, I can tell you that, and the view is just as chilling.

And Mate and I? We're possibly more in awe of the 20 year mark than we are of the scenery-- it just doesn't SEEM THAT LONG. How could it possibly be twenty years? That would make us old, and bored, and weary of each other.

We got to the hotel room and just lay down in the quiet, and listened to our own hearts beating. We turned on the Wedding Singer and laughed, because it's set in the era we got married in--but our wedding was (much like our honeymoon and this trip) on a budget. Mom made the dress, friend took the pictures, mom's best bud made the cake, and we had it in the park.

People still tell us how much they loved that wedding--because everybody who was there really loved us, and although we were nervous during the ceremony, after I jumped my brother for punch (it was 105 degrees and my wedding dress was SATIN for chrissakes!) nobody stopped laughing. (Except my dad, when he thought Mate's friends were going to sabotage our GMC Pacer. *snort* Because being a GMC Pacer wasn't being constructed under a bad sign on it's own.)

But my internet time is almost up and Mate and I still have a walk to take in the gossamer thin air. It's weird--there is so much quiet, without the kids, we still treasure every word.

I'll try and read up on everybody tomorrow!

Amy OUt!

Thin wallets, fat fantasy lives...

Okay-- we really are broke. Mate and I are planning a stunning diet of pb &j while on vacation, and at my last two trips to the yarn store, I *gasp* only knit, and bought no more stash. However, it's interesting how creative you can get amusing yourself when you can afford nothing but soda and otter pops, and here are some examples:

* A week and a half ago, we actually WOKE CHICKEN UP LAUGHING. What were we laughing at, praytell? Why, Mom's traffic video, showing her blowing through a right hand turn on a red light. Granted, Dad thought it was a whole lot funnier than mom, but he got a good 1/2 an hours enjoyment out of that--and we had our own popcorn.

* I was recently caught bemoaning the fact that I couldn't buy any more books, e-books or otherwise, and a friend (Jen B, I LOVE you!) actually bought me a copy of Madeleine Urban & Abigail Roux' 'Cut & Run'. (m/m romance fans, it's a keeper!) In return, she's getting the pair of Mini-Moschi socks I'm currently working on. The fact that they're rainbow colored socks in exchange for a gay romance has been cracking me up steadily for a week.

* Since the abominable fuckers in my 2nd period made off with Disc 2 of Season 1 of The Greatest Television Show Ever, I was devastated that I couldn't find any copies under $20--until I tearfully asked Knittech if she knew where a reasonably priced copy could be obtained. She is generously accepting stash for Supernatural--and besides the entertainment of the show itself, I am happily amused by this as well.

* Chicken has figured out how to hook my computer up to to the boom box I brought home from school in order to more easily broadcast our i-Tunes collection over the house. Both entertaining and not involving any purchases on our part or small things like i-Pods or cell phones that can get lost. Again. Good move, Chicken!

* Oh yeah--and instead of going to the movies yesterday (as common sense would have DEMANDED had we had any cash whatsoever) we cleaned house instead. Not that this was particularly entertaining in a 'ha-ha' sense, but it was a perfectly acceptable way to pass the time.

* And, you know, now that I've written the, uhm, big, uhm, sex scene for Rampant, i could always FINISH THE DAMNED BOOK ALREADY. That's good for many of us, right?

* And the next Jack & Teague short.

* And let us not forget the essay on why Brutus tops Cassius! (Besides the fact that Cassius is an insecure whiny little bitch and Brutus needs to do SOMETHING to get him to shut up, that is!)

Yup, it's gonna be a cash-free rollicking party of a summer, I can tell you that already!

Hey--next time I blog, I might be in Colorado. *oooooooooooooohhhhhh*

In Which Amy Realizes that Being a Grown Up Has Perks!

Okay--it's REALLY late, and I'm tired, but a few things need to be mentioned.

A. I'm done for 8 weeks canyagimmehalellujiaamen? I thought you could!

B. Graduation was pretty awesome. More details tomorrow.

C. I am no longer mad at the prickweenie. In fact, he is a prickweenie no longer.

Now see, I've been kicking myself all week, telling myself that I was weak for walking away from a battle with this guy. What kind of person am I? Don't I have more backbone than that?

Except I do--I know I do. So why did I walk away?

Two reasons.

Reason A: I heard a note in his voice--same note in my voice this time of year. And it didn't matter what our voices were saying, what this shivery-shatter-glass pitch said was, "I know I'm being unreasonable but just go ahead and fuck with me again and watch me lose my fucking mind!" When all was said and done, it was this sound that made me walk away. Sometimes, it really doesn't matter who is right and who is wrong, sometimes, what matters is who is under the most stress. This year, the answer was unequivocal: he was.

Reason B: Tonight. Tonight (for the first time in five years, believe it or not) I joined my colleagues for some beer (okay--they drank, I had to drive home tired), some wonderful fried food, and some REALLY LOUD conversation after graduation. I talked to everybody, including the erstwhile prickweenie, and I had a really good time. And I remembered, once again, the reason one does not go snapping people's head off, and the reason one backs off and gives colleagues the benefit of the doubt (even if it's a little late): they are colleagues, and you''re stuck in the same raft together, and just the fact that you chose the same profession gives you some common ground on which to build a healthy professional relationship and (if you're lucky) a friendship. In this case, we also had Julius Caesar and a burning need to know who topped--Brutus or Cassius. (I said Brutus, he disagreed. We both agreed Casca was the instigator who started fights and then jerked off in the corner while shit was going down.)

So, I'm glad I backed off. I'm really glad I kept my perspective--I recall repeating "We usually get along. I think we were both stressed," a lot. And for once, I'm really glad I kept my mouth shut (for the most part) and let it go. (I'd be surprised if he even remembers the incident.) I think it's a sign of growing up--maybe just a smidge. Don't hold it against me--I wouldn't change this evening for all the raging rows in the staff room in the world.

Shhhhh... It is sleeping.

Random slices of crazy pie today--enjoy!

**We were watching a taped episode of Cold Case today, where the events of the entire episode actually flashed through Lilly Rush's head in the space AFTER her car went into the river and BEFORE she was rescued.

Big T and I looked at each other and said, "Oh my God--It's THE OCCURRENCE AT OWL'S CREEK BRIDGE!"

He knew what that reference was--can I say I was so proud? Oh yeah.


**This one is thanks to a Twitter trend some of you may recognize.

Chicken and I were watching an episode of Spider Man (OLD episode) and an 'earlier years' hero made an appearance. His name was 'Whizzer'.

Chicken and I met eyes and said (again, in tandem) "Whizzer? WORST super power EVER!"


**Tuesday, I took Cave Troll (who is already out of school this week) with his little sister to day care. On the way there, he suddenly started singing:

Start spreading the news,
We're leaving today,
I'm gonna be a part of it...
Second grade Second grade...

He learned it in school--apparently it was better than the first grade song. Have been laughing about it ever since.

**Tuesday also, I asked the babysitter how the kids were doing. Ladybug is usually "Very quiet and self-contained" when she is alone. Poor Brenda was a little bit unprepared for the Ladybug/Cave Troll one-two sucker punch, and said so.

"They were... uhm... interesting."

"Oh--did they fight a lot?"

"Mmm... no. More like they picked on everybody else."

"Really?"

At that moment, Brenda got a phone call and I got to see them in action. First Ladybug put down a tea pot, then the kid across from her picked it up. Ladybug pointed and whined and said, "Give that back!"

The other kid wasn't stupid. "No! I had it first!"

So Ladybug said, "Caaavvveee Trooooollll!!!"

And the Cave Troll took the tea pot away from the other kid and gave it to his sister.

"Ohmigod!" I said. "She's the tyrant and he's her enforcer!"

Brenda nodded, looking a little dazed. "All day, Ms. Lane. They did that ALL DAY!"

OY!

**And (also yesterday!), I was sitting at my desk, feeling angry and weepy (okay, I could deal with menstruation if I could only get rid of that goddamned female "I'm so pissed I could CRY on you!" bullshit! Goddess? God? Anyone listening to me? NOT. FUCKING. FAIR!) Anyway, I was having a shit day, but the kids all knew what they were supposed to do (or would have if they weren't sheep!) and one kid walked in late. I ignored him. We've got three days left, and the kid has so many tardies he's already late for next year, if they did it, so I kept working on my end-of-the-year swampshit, and the kid looked a little put out he didn't get the tardy lecture. This is one of my Fab Five of Third period--sort of a perennial pain in the ass, right?

"What's the matter, Ms. Lane? You look sort of out of it today, like you didn't bring IT or something."

IT? Bring IT? IT is asleep! IT has been pounded into dust by you fuckers, because every day I bring IT you piss on it, stomp on IT in cleats and then steal the fillings out if IT'S teeth! (I'm missing a VERY beloved dvd, one of a set btw... you all know which set, don't make me say it.) And when IT actually DOES do a little asskicking of IT'S very own, IT gets stomped on by a royal prickweenie who thinks that BEING a prickweenie makes him some sort of hero and then belittles ME for trying to teach the kids about the American Heroic archetype that actually GAVE him that idea. Bring IT? IT HAS A 'SHIT ON ME' HANGOVER!!!! IT is home, sleeping off another crap year in a place that never really liked IT in the first place, and I'm here powering on, and I don't have IT so just leave me the fuck alone, because you can't possibly pass at this juncture anyway and I can only explain that to you so many times before IT takes a holiday and you're left to your own devices to pick your own goddamned nose!

Or, at least that's what I WOULD have said, if only IT had been with me. As it was I grunted "The assignment's on the board. Cheat sheet. Really important. I've said it six to eight times already. Get to work." Because, you know, IT was sleeping, and my job isn't a lot of fun without IT.

*whew* But, in good news? I'm 610 pages into Rampant, and the next time I blog (probably!) I'LL BE ON SUMMER VACATION! Root for me people--and let's hope IT shows up for the next two days.

Why am I here again?

OKay--you know it's bad--know it's REALLY bad--when you come home and write this:

Don't you love it when you do the report
And the teacher says it's in vain?
'Cause Red Tape is his real course
And only sheep are sane.

Or when your buddy blows off the project cause it's not cool
And jumps on your Grade-A train--
You'll let him cause he's scared like you.
Only sheep are sane.

I like to pretend I'm talking just for my health
When I'm up there just for you.
I hear your whines when you think the smart kids
Know things you never knew.

Go ahead--half-disguise the fact
You were born with all a brain
Cause brains are for the dumb-arses
And only sheep are sane.

Talk all you want, dance and sing--
Make sure your teacher takes the blame.
Don't complain when your government cheats you like sheep--
Cause only sheep are sane.

And when the one kid in the entire flock
Discovers beauty in his fragile brain,
Not one teacher, one student, one educated rock
Notice, or give him fame.
He's a panther, a jaguar, a noble wolf,
(And this is my refrain
we must kill him, squash him, knee his nads, because
Beauty and truth stand out on the plain
And no one wants to be noticed for having a brain
And he bothers the bureaucrats who are also to blame
And society hates him 'cause he's not the same
And fuck them all, we know the truth,
ONLY SHEEP ARE SANE.

You know your teaching day sucks when...

You look at your TA after viewing seven projects so completely shitacular, that only two of them actually DID WHAT YOU REQUESTED, and ask her, "Do you have any shrooms?"

To which she replies, "Cuervo, Ms. Lane. CUERVO. You'll piss it out in a week and not have to worry about the drug tests."

Zoo--sans camera.

Okay-- we forgot the camera, which sucks, but it was a fun day anyway.

I sent Mate to the movies with the teenagers last night, and he said "Zoo-m tomorrow?" And why not? We'd paid up on our membership--and that's one of those deals where, if you take a family of six to the zoo twice in a year, it pays for itself. So away we went to the Zoo-m... and thanks to Disney, Pixar, and Dreamworks, we had a fine time.

You think I'm kidding? The first exhibit I managed to talk the short people into seeing was the "Chi'h-Fu's. For those who didn't see the movie last year, that's the Red Panda--who are almost as cute in person as Dustin Hoffman made them on the big screen. From there, it was only a hop, skip, and a trip to the Zazus (hornbills), the Joeys (Kangaroos), the Julians, Morts, and Maurice's (Lemurs), the Melmans (giraffes), the Marty's (Zebras), the Alex's (Lions), and Tigress (uhm, you know!). We managed to miss the big Torrant (Snow cat--okay, that's mine and mine alone) and the hyenas from Lion King, but otherwise, you get the point.

And the short people were, of course, great--it was Ladybug's first trip to the zoo without a stroller, and she did just fine. She was TIRED, but she made it through to the end, even the LOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNGGGG walk to the car through the wild daisies in the park. Chicken was a good big sister--we all took turns on the hand holding and making sure the short people were with us, and in the end, everyone got rewarded with an overpriced kool-aid in a cool plastic thing and a cookie split five ways. (Big T didn't come. Why? Because he got the video games to himself for four hours... I mean, did you need to ask?)

And Mom & Dad got to banter--which took a surprising turn at the Chimpanzee cage. Two of the four chimps were wrestling like siblings--until one of them sat on the other's face. And Mate burst out with the wildly inappropriate (and oddly John Stewart-esque) phrase of "Yeah, tea-bag THIS buddy!" I turned to him in outrage, and then Chicken (who apparently either didn't hear or didn't translate) started to wrestle, and I was left with an incredible brain a-synchronization. Seriously--the last time I had such a "Did he really say that?" disconnect was when watching Supernatural, and Dean was stuck in a tight space with a pretty girl and apologizing because he "shoulda cleaned out the pipes this morning." Took me a while to get that one--took me a while to get over the idea of gay-chimp-sex. Go figure.

(And for more Mate cuteness? At this very moment, he's trying to use a Spongebob Squarepants snowcone maker to ACTUALLY MAKE SNOWCONES. It's not working--but I don't care. It was a move of such abandoned optimism, I'm already charmed. (And he closed out the attempt with, "Oh well... we're gonna hafta stick with Otter Pops." Seriously--could he BE any cuter? I think not!)

And that's it--that's us. I have one more week to go and then I'm squeezing my uberfatass on a plane and hoping no one throws me on a scale or something to claim my seat. And btw--I've had a thought about hiding a yarn needle in the underwire portion of my bra--anybody think that'll work? I mean... you know...those things are metal anyway... and it would be, like, uhm, HIDDEN, and if I've got some dental floss with me to serve as a yarn snipper, I might be able to fly with a full kit!

Just sayin'.

Cute Shit...

Just a few things:

Yesterday, I asked the Cave Troll how his second-to-last-day of school was, to which he replied, "Pretty good, mom. I went to first grade today."

"Really? What was that like?"

"It was in another room!"


And today, I came home and found Big T and Chicken playing video games. A couple of minutes later, Big T was doing dishes.

"Thank you, Big T. Thank you so much for doing that by yourself."

Big T shrugged. "It's no big deal--Bryar and I played for it. Bryar won."


And finally, Chicken said something really wrong. She was playing a video game, and apparently, kept getting beaten by a character named Snake.

"I don't get it--I keep trying REALLY hard to get Snake off!"

Think about it for a second. Yup. Really wrong.

And Ladybug? She's all blue eyes and red hair--and you heard about the pee-pee incident yesterday. Yup--she must be cute, because I was searching for swearwords, but not yelling at HER!

Too Much and Not Enough

That's how I feel about blogging today. Too much to talk about, not enough specific memory to place it all. It's like the short people keep doing cute stuff and saying cute stuff and I laugh and think "I must blog that" and then it's gone. Sucks, really--that's sort of the fun part of the blog, preserving all that shit, but it's the end of the school year, and my brainfry is less all-inclusive than it is when I'm full time, but that doesn't mean it hasn't hit hard.

I'm still writing on RAMPANT--I know most of you are like "We know this!" but I just got a flurry (five) of fan-e-mail reminding me that my writing responsibilities do NOT lie in the area of slash fanfic (okay, I've been playing in the poop-pile again, I admit it) and I just wanted to assure everyone that Cory and I are still tight and all, and that she is progressing nicely. (Getting close to 600 pages, and I'm feeling like I only have 100 or so to go... it's sort of a giddy feeling, but I'm getting to that point where I find I put off writing for a day or two because I want to savor the part that's coming next.)

We had a bizarre thunderstorm last night--there I was, all ready to go for my walk and the sky started lighting up like God's disco and muttering like a pissed off old man with constipation... I didn't ask questions, I just stayed inside and enjoyed the smell of rain in the morning. (For the record, California is not really known for it's summer thunderstorms... can we say Global Warming? I knew we could!) It's happening again tonight, which is too bad because my nephew is graduating tonight. We were all going to watch him walk across the stage, but they moved it inside and so we can't. *sigh* Oh well-- my folks are having a shindig at their house. It seems like just yesterday that Mr. Z's dad was serving two weeks worth of detention for cutting class while my sister was in labor--he's grown into a fine young man, and I'm so proud, but I'm a little pissed too, because it's not fair for the time to go by that fast. Just ain't.

I stopped at the store today to get him some baloons and a $$$ card for graduation and Squishy Belle looked at me while I was picking out cards and piddled down her pants, and out the bottom of the shopping cart. I wish someone got me on tape, because there were two really conservative gentlemen on either side of me and I was trying to find a way to say "Bloody ass buggering dick wanking pig fucking hell" without really saying "Ass", "dick" "fucking" or "hell". I have no memory of what the results were, but I'm sure it would have boggled linguistics experts the world round.

And that's about it--I have a final to write and some papers to grade, and some other shit to do... but mostly, I have to stay awake and write. And look forward to the week after next, when Mate and I go to Colorado without short people, because we've been married for 20 years and because we can!

Oh yeah--the following piece of weirdness is thanks to a Phineas and Ferb marathon on the Disney Channel. Uhm... don't ask, really--just let it infest your brainstem:

Mooooo...

If anyone wonders what gets a teacher through the day when there's eight days left in the school year, well, hereyago...

I spent two days explaining the essay, and they spent two days talking over me. Today, when their rough draft was due, I had a line four deep at my desk, asking me how to do the essay. I explained it to one kid, and the next kid said, "Yeah--tell me what you told him." I seriously thought about carving his spleen with a pair of paste scissors. The next kid in line had a rough draft in which he indicated that the minister in "The Minister's Black Veil" was shrouded from the rest of the world by his abnormally long hair, and I thought seriously about carving out MY spleen with a pair of paste scissors.

And then it happened--the thing that saved my life.

Ten minutes before the bell, the last kid I helped walked up to me with an open book and said, "So, Ms. Lane... I wanted to do my essay on "The Minister's Black Veal"--Is that okay?"

I looked at the kid blankly and said, "Mooooooooooooooooooo..."

Then I put my head on the desk and laughed until the bell rang.

And that's why we all got to keep our spleens.

Well, filk you too!

I was filking around on the amazon.com forum again, and this came out! Enjoy!


Ode to a pet


My dog is getting hella old
My kid's rat has a big lump
The old cat likes to sleep on me
The young cat likes to jump
We've had fancy mice and guinea pigs
Dead hamsters, rats, and fish
But every kid since time began
Has always had one wish.
Oh mommy won't you buy me
Or borrow, beg or steal...
I'll clean it's poop, I'll brush it's fur
It'll never miss a meal.
Mommy won't you get me,
Promise you won't forget,
All I want for my birthdays ever
Is a cuddly-wubbly pet.
A year's worth of books has holes in them
From the hamster that lasted a day.
We've got feral cats in the garage
Because they didn't want to play
We've had fishies in your underwear,
The cat's belly, and the floor.
(If they've been these places for any time
They're really not fish no more.)
The old dog decided to retire
She sleeps in the house now.
And grumbles when we trip on her
As we walk over her flat pillow.
The old cat begs for fancy food.
The new cat like to bite.
All cats avoid the rodent graveyard--
That place is crowded at night!
We wouldn't trade them for a million bucks
Although that's what they cost.
And on the day (that sad, sad day)
We all know what we've lost.
They're happiness and sadness,
Mortality and joy.
And every pet's the bestest yet
For each responsible girl or boy.
Oh mommy won't you buy me
Or borrow, beg or steal...
I'll clean it's poop, I'll brush it's fur
It'll never miss a meal.
Mommy won't you get me,
Promise you won't forget,
All I want for my birthdays ever
Is a cuddly-wubbly pet.
My nephew had a tarantula,
My cousins had turtles and snakes.
My daughter prefers vermin--
A rat a good pet makes!
Some kids prefer geckos,
Some like crocodiles or mice,
But a thing to give unconditional love
Is unconditionally nice.
Oh mommy won't you buy me
Or borrow, beg or steal...
I'll clean it's poop, I'll brush it's fur
It'll never miss a meal.
Mommy won't you get me,
Promise you won't forget,
All I want for my birthdays ever
Is a cuddly-wubbly pet.