And Now We Are Sane

Sort of.

I'd forgotten how normal a weekend can be. Gymnastics, grocery shopping, kids' errands, oh my! Of course, next week, soccer games start, and opening day, and I may very well fall down the rabbit hole again... there is no telling!

For those of you curious about this year's schedule (since previous years have proven so very entertaining once teh Crazy has begun) it goes a little something like this:

M/W-- Soccer for Chicken @ 5:00, and for Mate, Squish, and Zoomboy at 6:30-8:00.
T-- Dance for Squish @ 5:30, Chicken @ 6:45 (across town from each other!) and sometimes softball for Mate whenever.
W-- Karate for T (which, for obvious reasons, we skip a lot.)
Th--Karate for T (which, for obvious reasons, we MUST make!)
F--Game for Squish w/Mate
S (and sometimes Sun) -- Game for Chicken and Zoomboy
Sunday--grocery shopping, writing, and knitting, and sometimes, reading.

Oh yeah. And every other Wednesday I've got some sort of staff meeting--and a department head that can't figure out why I just sort of space those things for the first two month of school completely unintentionally and not personal to anything he does. They just. don't. compute. (Seriously--I almost spaced the complete staff meeting this last week. Had nothing to do with my desire to be there--I actually enjoyed it, and the whole way those things are going. I just had my brain on other shit, I SWEAR!)

Now, I was going to devote part of this blog post to waking up to a stench that roiled through the house at five a.m. with personality as well as touch, sound, and texture, but Chicken has been blogging as well, and I like her cartoon better than my diatribe against the homicidal dog, trying to kill us with her intestinal dysfunction. See? Of course her father read it and said, "You only WISH you had surgical mask for that operation!" and Chicken and I nodded our heads and said, "Oh *YEAH!*

I was going to devote part of the post to my son's weird obsession with Hunter S. Thompson and the movie Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas but honestly, other than, "Jesus that movie is WEIRD!" that's all I gots! The movie is weird. My son is... well... he's seventeen. That sort of covers it. I remember making my parents rent the weirdo Lawrence Olivier "Hamlet" when i was that age--complete with the Freudian blocking and the icky scene between Hamlet and his mother. There is a certain amount of pretension involved in being young and wanting to understand EVERYTHING about your world. I get that. I'm just old enough to want my entertainment to be basic entertainment. you know. Twister and Shawshank Redemption. (*waves at Mary*) (However, I might add, Inception was a lot of fun to speculate about... me likey!)

Anyway, I'm rambling. I'm trying (HARD) not to obsess with how people liked Bella and whether or not I should try to write more romantic comedy or stick to sturm and drang. Maybe I'm just not good enough to write romantic comedy, you know? I mean, a lot of people liked If I Must, but a lot of people thought it was just too goofy. Not everyone can be Billy Wilder--I just thought it would be fun to try. *sigh* I'm working on something funny right now-- I figured that I'd made my editors read angst and pain for four manuscripts... I'd go for a happy before I started Jeff's story, and Cory's in the down time. Maybe not such a good idea, yanno?

Anyway--my goal next week is to actually KEEP UP on my blog reading, and not just dump comments in your boxes like wildflowers by the wagon-load.

Oh yeah--i'd also like to get some sleep.

(BTW? Steve the female kitten is doing AWESOME!!! She's insane--but she's awesome. So sweet. We're fighting to keep this one inside. We want her around for a while.)