Well, the wedding was beautiful yesterday--I'm not exactly a church person, but they had this lovely side-by-side interweaving of Sonnet 116 and that verse from Corinthians that EVERYONE reads during a wedding (Faith, Hope, and Love, but the greatest of these is love...ringing bells?) and it was something only an English Major/minister's daughter & son (as the bride and groom were) would have thought of and I was very appreciative. Of course I burst into tears when the bride (who is pretty spectacular looking when she's wearing jeans and a sweatshirt) walked on the scene. I mean, who doesn't?
Of course, Mate and I being the complete doofuses we are had to jet out of the reception early. Part of it was to get the kids, the the other part--the embarrassing part--was that we hadn't had any lunch. So we hadn't had any lunch but there was all this chocolate lying around the car, and on the way to the reception, we stuffed our faces with chocolate. And then we actually LOOKED at the program and saw that the reception was a dessert reception. By the time the bride and groom got there we were woozy and queasy with sugar shock--and feeling stupid, too, because we'd been looking at the program all through the wedding, but how stupid were we not to stop at McDonalds for some damned protein, right? But seriously, we were both fighting the urge to hurl--and, again, the kids. Grandma's babysitting service only extends so far, right? So we said hello to the bride & groom--the bride, who is naturally gracious anyway, made me really feel as though my presence was important--don't you just love those people? She's like, 25 years old, but when I grow up, I want to be Danielle! Anyway, on we went to raid the nearest drive-thru. And that's when it hit us.
Elk Grove, CA, is the city of the freakin' damned.
What city that can call itself a city doesn't have a McDonalds? Seriously, in five miles of road we spotted two Carl's Jr., one KFC, (on the wrong side of the street), a Burger King (gag) and not one McDonalds to be seen. The funny part was, that after we finally agreed to a C.J.'s, we were cruising along, I was knitting a garter bias scarf for the student who DIDN'T offer "not being a bitch" as his incentive (he just said he'd be really grateful), and there was this peaceful silence--the kind couples who've been married for a bit can allow to descend--and suddenly Mate speaks:
"Look. We're at a freeway onramp with no fast food to be seen. I hate Elk Grove. I don't want to live here." It was such a non-sequiter that I don't think I stopped laughing for about ten minutes.
But Mate isn't the only one to pop a one-liner in the past few days.
We were on the way to Mate's mom's in another one of those peaceful silences, when suddenly, the Cave Troll Speaketh:
"Look, mom. Cows. I like cows" And then there was silence as Mate and I looked at each other and giggled helplessly. Who doesn't like cows?
MY friend Wendy, delivered a good line, along with a kick-ass family gift today as well. The family gift was the game 'Rock Band'--have you people seen this? YOu can hook up a drum set, a couple of guitars (including the one from guitar hero) and a microphone into your X-box 360 and, holy crap, you're a rock band! The guitars and the drums are pretty easy. You hit the color coordinated key when the color comes up on the screen, and hullo, you're playing. The vocals? Well--let's just say that the Rolling STones 'Shelter' is harder to sing than it seems when you're belting along with the car stereo, and for some reason, no one can stay on pitch with 'should I stay or should I go' but the guy who sang it in the first place. The funniest moment was when the Cave Troll had a mongo melt down because mom was trying to do vocals and HE wanted possession of the microphone. So I was singing into the microphone while he was screaming at the world at large...(Ooooohhh...childre...it's just a shout away, it's just a shout away...) and the family was cracking up because I got 89% vocal precision with the preschoolers' nuclear holocaust going on just inches from my ears.
Anyway, the funny line came as we were making our people (mine is named 'Amy Lane', and I gave her fantastic boobs and a humongulous ass--I would have made her middle thick, but the program didn't work that way, so she's got this tremendous va-va-voom body. I was very proud.) And we had to pick a band name. Wendy choise 'Yu Suk' because that way, for all our practice runs when we really sucked, the crowd would scream 'You suck!' and we could take that as a compliment. We thougth this was tremendously hilarious, until the Cave Troll kept pointing the microphone at us and saying, "Hey--you suck!" We made Auntie Wendy promise to take all the heat for that.
So it was a good day, all in all...and the title of the post? Well, I'm still writing Rath's creepy-assed character, and I don't wanna. I'm gonna knit instead. And then, when all the kids are sleeping? I'll confront that bastard where he lives...his compartmentalized mechanical heart. So I'm not writing BmoonII right now--but it's not a block.
Sunday, December 30, 2007
Friday, December 28, 2007
I'm taking a chance...
And trying to load more photos. I sort of had a brainfart today--it completely escaped my attention, in that floaty vacation way of catching up on sleep and slogging through a constantly trashed house--that today was my day to blog. At first I was all into that whole 'blogging without obligation' idea, and just blowing off the day, but then it occurred to me that, karmically speaking, it would be a good day to try to load pictures. I mean, the blogging gods gave me a break with my last post, and, lets face it, I'm due. I've got quite a few pictures of naked children from a rolicking game of 'mommies and monkeys' that I thoroughly enjoyed, but I got the feeling that people were uncomfortable with naked children--not on their own account, but from a perfectly reasonable fear of child predators out there, and so I'll refrain. I can only say,
A. You're missing out, because Ladybug's pudgy little nakedness ranks a 10 on the cuteness scale, and
B. If any child predators are surfing for naked children on my blog, they will be sorely disappointed, because I just can't get pictures loaded often enough for a good view.
Besides, my children are not good targets--they bite, they scream, and they kick. And that's people they like.
And besides that, well, I'm a movie away from finishig a pair of sort-of-fingerless mitts for Ladybug. They're sort of fingerless, because I made them long enough for real mittens, but I didn't close the top, but I did make a button closure, so they can close if she needs it. I also put a button on the back of the mitten, and a hole on the back of the top of the mitten (yes, I will try for pictures when they're done!) so that you can fold the mitten down so pudgy little fingers can wiggle and function, and button it so the top of the mit stays out of the way. And, of course, I left the thumb open--that's very crucial with a self-pacifying Ladybug.
And I've written ten pages that I'm really proud of on Bitter Moon: Part II, Triane's Son Reigning. As soon as Part I is out, I'll post some more teasers--book people seem to like that:-) I'm enjoying writing Eljean--he's a flawed character. He's not heroic, and he's not always truthful or straightforward, and he is very bewildered by the world he finds himself in and doesn't always deal with it in a flattering way. He's also horrible at keeping secrets and terrified by pain. In short, he's exactly NOT the sort of person you want to know all of your biggest secrets, and yet he's the person who accidentally stumbles upon the things Torrant and Aylan, our two heroes, need the world NOT to know. I've enjoyed writing him immensely--he's sort of a stretch. Next, I get to write from the villain's point of view, and I've always sucked at that, so that's also going to be a stretch, and all in all, this book is so delicious that I can only hope (here's the prayer now, everybody say it with me) Holy Goddess, Merciful God, Let it Not Suck. Amen.
And speaking of books? I'm enjoying Roxie's newest, Sanna and the Dragons with a profound sense of gratitude. Roxie has such lovely, visual prose, and her characters are warm and real and fine. She needs to be absolutely the newest thing in YA books, and in a perfect world she would be, because the YA lists are so full of angst and pain and terrifying things--I looked at Chicken's Scholastic book list, and there was a book that my students have read called 'Crank' about a girl who splits her personality to be come a promiscuous junkie, and it starts with the kid doing lines on her father's coffee table, with dad and his bimbo-du-jour. I mean, come ON! 'Crank' makes the Scholastic Top Ten, and 'Sanna, Sorceress Apprentice' can't get the time of day from an agent? The world is just not fair--I personally would rather my kid read lovely, amazing prose about a brave, self-actualized, strong and willful young woman with a sense of duty and play and usefulness in the world, than bad prose poetry about the evils of drug use. I know for a fact that 'Crank' would give her nightmares, while 'Sanna' gave her hope--and really, isn't that what we'd like to teach our young people? Hope? Anyway, I'm off my soapbox now. 'Sanna: Sorceress Apprentice' and 'Sanna and the Dragons' are awesome fantasy, and money well spent. Thanks, Roxie--my vacation is much more enjoyable thanks to your book!
And I've got two photos loaded, and I'll give up now in thanks and try some more with the next post. The first picture is making cookies--before the mix-master blew up, and the second one is Christmas day, with CaveTroll in his new Buzz-wear, and Ladybug in her pretty pretty princess dress and a jacket I knit for her when she was a fetus that finally fits now. It's just as well, because I used Lion Suede, and I hated the stuff and it's the only thing I'll ever make that would look that good with that dress.
Ciou! I'm off to find the coordinates of the wedding of a friend of mine (Danielle--she comments some times. One of the loveliest, most tolerant and sound-hearted people on the planet, I'm so thrilled for her I can't contain myself!!!) Chicken was laughing at me because I found the card with the website on it (for the coordinates, of course) and I was doing some sort of bizarre victory dance that looked like a headless chicken being zapped by electricity while dying from cyanide poisoning. She seemed to think it was funny. Bye!
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
It was gonna be a photo issue...
But the damned thing would only let me upload one photo, so it's gonna be a lotta fiber instead.
First, a picture of Ladybug in her Paton's self-striping yarn hat with a bright blue flower. Yes. I am the only person in North America who doesn't think these colors are too loud.
But that brings me to what I did for Christmas--or rather, birthdays.
You see, we used to gather to celebrate everybody's birthday in my mom's family, and then grandma and grandpa got sick and we adults got so old that birthdays weren't all that exciting and we sort of stopped. But that didnt' stop me from thinking about my Aunts and Uncle (and their S.O.'s) and so, starting in June, I've been making stuff--just random stuff, thinking about their birthdays. What I ended up with was the following:
*two pairs of socks (including the chicken toes pattern--which, alas, I have no completed photos of. Not that it would matter. Fucking Blogger.)
*three ladies scarves--the Noro Sportweight was my favorite, (simple feather and fan) but the Tonalita crocheted has to be my favorite for instant gratification. It's a LYS staple--12 dc across, with chain 10 loops at every end. The Tonalita is this really decadent self striping yarn...prrrrrrrrr..... Also included was that fluffy color block one that I managed to post not too long ago--remember, it was draped on Chicken?
*two gentleman's watchcaps--one of which was done in leftovers from Big T's camoflauge socks. He liked that cap so much he put in a request. I'm gonna see what I can do!
*And a pair of Dashing handwarmers made in this really awesome tweedy warm wool whose name I forgot.
*Oh yeah...and two men's T-shirts, because I needed ten gifts and I only had eight.
So I gathered aunts, uncle and so's and had them do a white elephant thinger--it was sort of fun! It would have been more fun, but my aunt barb was a bit put off ecause she's sort of a stickler for a schedule (for good reason this year--her mom fell down the stairs and ended up in the hospital the day before, and she was planning to return to the hospital to visit after dinner) but once I made it clear that she got to pick a gift for her wonderful mum, because being hurt on Christmas Eve trumped my flaky aunt carol who just didn't show up, auntie barb perked right up. That, and she got to pick a T-shirt for her son with the Beatles on it. I mean--pretty much, she won all around.
Anyway, it was the wierd relative with a yarn fetish, doing something obscure and strange, but all in all, I felt pretty good about it. And I was rewarded for my pains by a GORGEOUS yarn bag and a gift certificate to my LYS. (Barb got me for the gift exchange this year--she really rocks:-) It was pretty funny, because when I visited my LYS proprietor today, she said, "Yes--when your aunt told me it was for you, I thought 'I could have recommended needles and yarn and so many things. But the gift certificate will cover all of that, so it was okay!"
Anyway--there's my fiber content. Really, I think you all would have preferred pictures of the kids.
First, a picture of Ladybug in her Paton's self-striping yarn hat with a bright blue flower. Yes. I am the only person in North America who doesn't think these colors are too loud.
But that brings me to what I did for Christmas--or rather, birthdays.
You see, we used to gather to celebrate everybody's birthday in my mom's family, and then grandma and grandpa got sick and we adults got so old that birthdays weren't all that exciting and we sort of stopped. But that didnt' stop me from thinking about my Aunts and Uncle (and their S.O.'s) and so, starting in June, I've been making stuff--just random stuff, thinking about their birthdays. What I ended up with was the following:
*two pairs of socks (including the chicken toes pattern--which, alas, I have no completed photos of. Not that it would matter. Fucking Blogger.)
*three ladies scarves--the Noro Sportweight was my favorite, (simple feather and fan) but the Tonalita crocheted has to be my favorite for instant gratification. It's a LYS staple--12 dc across, with chain 10 loops at every end. The Tonalita is this really decadent self striping yarn...prrrrrrrrr..... Also included was that fluffy color block one that I managed to post not too long ago--remember, it was draped on Chicken?
*two gentleman's watchcaps--one of which was done in leftovers from Big T's camoflauge socks. He liked that cap so much he put in a request. I'm gonna see what I can do!
*And a pair of Dashing handwarmers made in this really awesome tweedy warm wool whose name I forgot.
*Oh yeah...and two men's T-shirts, because I needed ten gifts and I only had eight.
So I gathered aunts, uncle and so's and had them do a white elephant thinger--it was sort of fun! It would have been more fun, but my aunt barb was a bit put off ecause she's sort of a stickler for a schedule (for good reason this year--her mom fell down the stairs and ended up in the hospital the day before, and she was planning to return to the hospital to visit after dinner) but once I made it clear that she got to pick a gift for her wonderful mum, because being hurt on Christmas Eve trumped my flaky aunt carol who just didn't show up, auntie barb perked right up. That, and she got to pick a T-shirt for her son with the Beatles on it. I mean--pretty much, she won all around.
Anyway, it was the wierd relative with a yarn fetish, doing something obscure and strange, but all in all, I felt pretty good about it. And I was rewarded for my pains by a GORGEOUS yarn bag and a gift certificate to my LYS. (Barb got me for the gift exchange this year--she really rocks:-) It was pretty funny, because when I visited my LYS proprietor today, she said, "Yes--when your aunt told me it was for you, I thought 'I could have recommended needles and yarn and so many things. But the gift certificate will cover all of that, so it was okay!"
Anyway--there's my fiber content. Really, I think you all would have preferred pictures of the kids.
If it ain't broke...
It ain't ours.
Do you all know the movie 'Cars', at the end of the first race, where Lightning McQueen had blown all four tires and just barely finished the race with his tongue? Or how the Millenium Falcon kept dropping shit off of it, until Han Solo just piloted that baby in for a landing?
Yeah, Christmas was like that.
I didn't really blog about it, because we were, well, DEALING with it, but as C-day was rapidly approaching, uhm, everything broke--the mixmaster was sort of a scratch on the surface. In addition we had Mate's car, the sink, the bank account and my back--which was thrown out on Saturday (probably from hunching over my desk too much while my body just got bigger from stress eating).
We powered through--Mate spent most of Christmas Eve morning trying to fix the plumbing (it's still a no-go) but eventually we just piled into the crap-mobile and went to my parents for Christmas Eve and then to my mom's family for Christmas day, and the holidays were wonderful--the kids got everything they wanted (although even mom had to admit that Santa overdid T's yearly dose of sweaters, socks and underwear. What can I say? IT WAS THE ONLY THING ON HIS LIST that he didn't already get for his birthday!!!) And most excitingly, Santa got the family a Wii. I myself was surprised by this purchase (see some of those things that are broke) but what can I say? Santa lost his mind, and the kids were THRILLED. (And, let's face it, the family Wii more than made up for the total lameness of T's other gifts. It was somewhat vindicating.) My back was almost normal yesterday, and, well, Mate is taking the car in this morning. After I go to the store for milk and top ramen, which is all we'll be able to eat until January 1st. The good news is, we got enough movie gift certificates for Christmas to ensure some fun between now and then, and our dvd collection (already pretty large) was increased by a goodly amount, so we have things to do while we're huddling in the house, hoping the foundation doesn't crack.
We did get some pictures, which was nice, and if I can load one pic, it's going to be the one of Ladybug in the dress that mama gave her. I didn't do this with Chicken--I would buy the pretty velveteen dress, and take pictures of her in it, but I wouldn't put it on to wear. Then I met a friend who just let her kid wear the pretty velveteen dress all the freakin' time. And it hit me--it's sort of like a toy. I mean, the kid loves it, it makes her happy, why not let her play with it? Or spill crap on it and stuff? Anyway, blogger's being slow and I've got to go buy food for the masses, but you WILL see my pretty pretty princess in her black velveteen dress with the petal pink skirt if I have to actually learn how to use my computer to get it to you!!! (And eventually, as Goddess is my witness, I will get to watch all of Howl's Moving Castle with Chicken. It's become her own moral imperative.)
Anyway, it's funny--things are still broke, our bank account's still dry, but my children are happy and so am I. Christmas--you can't stop it, you might as well ride the wave.
Do you all know the movie 'Cars', at the end of the first race, where Lightning McQueen had blown all four tires and just barely finished the race with his tongue? Or how the Millenium Falcon kept dropping shit off of it, until Han Solo just piloted that baby in for a landing?
Yeah, Christmas was like that.
I didn't really blog about it, because we were, well, DEALING with it, but as C-day was rapidly approaching, uhm, everything broke--the mixmaster was sort of a scratch on the surface. In addition we had Mate's car, the sink, the bank account and my back--which was thrown out on Saturday (probably from hunching over my desk too much while my body just got bigger from stress eating).
We powered through--Mate spent most of Christmas Eve morning trying to fix the plumbing (it's still a no-go) but eventually we just piled into the crap-mobile and went to my parents for Christmas Eve and then to my mom's family for Christmas day, and the holidays were wonderful--the kids got everything they wanted (although even mom had to admit that Santa overdid T's yearly dose of sweaters, socks and underwear. What can I say? IT WAS THE ONLY THING ON HIS LIST that he didn't already get for his birthday!!!) And most excitingly, Santa got the family a Wii. I myself was surprised by this purchase (see some of those things that are broke) but what can I say? Santa lost his mind, and the kids were THRILLED. (And, let's face it, the family Wii more than made up for the total lameness of T's other gifts. It was somewhat vindicating.) My back was almost normal yesterday, and, well, Mate is taking the car in this morning. After I go to the store for milk and top ramen, which is all we'll be able to eat until January 1st. The good news is, we got enough movie gift certificates for Christmas to ensure some fun between now and then, and our dvd collection (already pretty large) was increased by a goodly amount, so we have things to do while we're huddling in the house, hoping the foundation doesn't crack.
We did get some pictures, which was nice, and if I can load one pic, it's going to be the one of Ladybug in the dress that mama gave her. I didn't do this with Chicken--I would buy the pretty velveteen dress, and take pictures of her in it, but I wouldn't put it on to wear. Then I met a friend who just let her kid wear the pretty velveteen dress all the freakin' time. And it hit me--it's sort of like a toy. I mean, the kid loves it, it makes her happy, why not let her play with it? Or spill crap on it and stuff? Anyway, blogger's being slow and I've got to go buy food for the masses, but you WILL see my pretty pretty princess in her black velveteen dress with the petal pink skirt if I have to actually learn how to use my computer to get it to you!!! (And eventually, as Goddess is my witness, I will get to watch all of Howl's Moving Castle with Chicken. It's become her own moral imperative.)
Anyway, it's funny--things are still broke, our bank account's still dry, but my children are happy and so am I. Christmas--you can't stop it, you might as well ride the wave.
Sunday, December 23, 2007
Well...the post itself isn't gooey...
But the cookie making was a sticky mess.
My daughter informed me on Thursday that her best friend was coming over today to make cookies. Excellent--because on the day after finals, three days before Christmas, that's what I'm gonna wanna do. Actually--it wasn't bad.
The old mixmaster was sort of doomed from the start--you don't even want to know what I had to clean off it before we started cooking, (Mate wanted to know when the last time I'd had it out had been...I asked him how old the Cave Troll was, and told him to add three years), and eventually it did blow up. You think I'm kidding? There I am, frantically knitting like a madwoman in the living room when both girls start shouting, "Don't touch it, Cave Troll, it's starting to smoke!" But after we took it outside and consigned it to the briny deep, things chilled out. We broke out the hand-held, and fixed the broken cookie recipe--see the following conversation for details:
"Are you sure that's enough flour?"
" Yeah mom, it's plenty."
"Are you sure? It doesn't look like enough flour."
"Trust us, mom--wait...what is it doing! AUGGGGHHH!!! WHAT'S WRONG WITH THE COOKIES!"
And when we were done, the results were reasonably edible. I've still got a hat to finish and presents to wrap and crap-all else to do, but Christmas baking may be stricken from the list. And I've got the pictures to prove it! (Except it's been an hour and they still aren't loading onto blogger, dammit!!!) *sigh* I'll try again tomorrow!!! Keep at it, my darlings...only two more days of Holiday cheer before the big C-day...and then, my favorite day of the year. December 26th--the Christmas coma...nothing but leftovers and playing with toys in the rubble. *ah*, family:-)
My daughter informed me on Thursday that her best friend was coming over today to make cookies. Excellent--because on the day after finals, three days before Christmas, that's what I'm gonna wanna do. Actually--it wasn't bad.
The old mixmaster was sort of doomed from the start--you don't even want to know what I had to clean off it before we started cooking, (Mate wanted to know when the last time I'd had it out had been...I asked him how old the Cave Troll was, and told him to add three years), and eventually it did blow up. You think I'm kidding? There I am, frantically knitting like a madwoman in the living room when both girls start shouting, "Don't touch it, Cave Troll, it's starting to smoke!" But after we took it outside and consigned it to the briny deep, things chilled out. We broke out the hand-held, and fixed the broken cookie recipe--see the following conversation for details:
"Are you sure that's enough flour?"
" Yeah mom, it's plenty."
"Are you sure? It doesn't look like enough flour."
"Trust us, mom--wait...what is it doing! AUGGGGHHH!!! WHAT'S WRONG WITH THE COOKIES!"
And when we were done, the results were reasonably edible. I've still got a hat to finish and presents to wrap and crap-all else to do, but Christmas baking may be stricken from the list. And I've got the pictures to prove it! (Except it's been an hour and they still aren't loading onto blogger, dammit!!!) *sigh* I'll try again tomorrow!!! Keep at it, my darlings...only two more days of Holiday cheer before the big C-day...and then, my favorite day of the year. December 26th--the Christmas coma...nothing but leftovers and playing with toys in the rubble. *ah*, family:-)
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Letters to Fictional People
Has it really been three days since I posted? Where o' where has the time gone?
I'm still ass-deep in alligators...but I keep bashing the fuckers on the nose and they're starting to chill out. It looks like I might be out of here at 3:00 tomorrow (our deadline!) after all--yaw-freakin'-hee!!!!
I'm planning on a nice gooey post w/pictures (if I haven't offended the blogger gods too much) sometime this weekend, but in the meantime I've been thinking about letters to Santa. It was never a tradition at our house--which is too bad, because I think writing letters to fictional people is a lot of fun...and to that end, I've got a couple of letters I"ve been composing in my head over this past week. I thought I'd share:
To the Parole Officer of that poor kid in my 5th period class--
Dear sir,
I understand that you are trying hard and zealously to keep the world safe from spacey young men with an IQ of my scrawny four-year-old's weight, but is it really necessary to pull J out three days a week for a drug test? The kid is homeless, hungry, broke, and not particularly bright, for heaven's sake, if he's got the cash to do weed, by all means, let brother do a little weed because if anybody needs a break from reality, it's this poor boy who wouldn't harm a fly because he wouldn't think to catch it. Send him some food and a clean sweater, but stop making him go crosstown to piss in a cup during my fifth period class.
Thank you so much,
Amy Lane
And while I've got the attention of the local police force--
To all parole officers everywhere-
Gentlemen,
While I again, acknowledge that you are trying to do your jobs, if there is any possible way for you to stop cracking down on the thugs with the 2% in my class during finals week, I would be so damned grateful I don't think I could express it in words. Seriously--this kid hasn't been to my class all semester, I've got a room full of kids who have a snowball's chance in a cheap freezer, and your problem has just become their problem in a big way. Have a seminar, do a camp out, make them shine Santa's gnarly boots--something, anything, but stuff them in a room with people who can actually read and have some hope...pretty pretty pretty please?
Thank you so very much,
Amy Lane
And on the subject of common sense--
To the young man who rode his bike in the dark across the overpass crosswalk against traffic while I was looking over my left shoulder to see if I could turn right against the light--
I almost killed you. Because of you, I will drop dead five years to the day before my husband, and my four year old has another reason to shock the relatives with another fun term that rhymes with SMOLY TRUCK!!! Get some goddamned reflectors, learn some traffic laws and get your ass home before it gets dark or your life expectancy is even worse than mine, you moron.
I mean that sincerely
Amy Lane
And now, on a lighter note...
Dear Jensen Ackles and Jared Padilecki--
You are both dear sweet boys and talented actors, but if you insist upon invading my dreams, I would prefer you invade my night time REM sleep wherein I am eighteen, nubile, and single. Thank you both, and I'll see you both tonight...no, no, not one at a time. Both of you will be fine. Thanks so much again.
Amy Lane
And since we're talking about romance...
To the paper towel dispenser in the G-wing bathroom--
Is it really necessary that I buy you flowers, chocolates, and massage oils in order to get you to put out? Seriously, I spend more time romancing a cheap piece of plastic with bad gears than I do seducing my own husband--for craps sake, either give up the ghost of the horny old bastard that possesses you or fall off the goddamned wall!!!
Thanks so much
Amy Lane
*whew*! Glad I got that all off my chest...I might have to write a few more of those later...in the meantime, may the holidays be merry, bright and pretty. We're going to look for Christmas lights tomorrow night--too much fun for both short people and tall people alike. Hot chocolate, carols on the ipod, et. al:-)
I'm still ass-deep in alligators...but I keep bashing the fuckers on the nose and they're starting to chill out. It looks like I might be out of here at 3:00 tomorrow (our deadline!) after all--yaw-freakin'-hee!!!!
I'm planning on a nice gooey post w/pictures (if I haven't offended the blogger gods too much) sometime this weekend, but in the meantime I've been thinking about letters to Santa. It was never a tradition at our house--which is too bad, because I think writing letters to fictional people is a lot of fun...and to that end, I've got a couple of letters I"ve been composing in my head over this past week. I thought I'd share:
To the Parole Officer of that poor kid in my 5th period class--
Dear sir,
I understand that you are trying hard and zealously to keep the world safe from spacey young men with an IQ of my scrawny four-year-old's weight, but is it really necessary to pull J out three days a week for a drug test? The kid is homeless, hungry, broke, and not particularly bright, for heaven's sake, if he's got the cash to do weed, by all means, let brother do a little weed because if anybody needs a break from reality, it's this poor boy who wouldn't harm a fly because he wouldn't think to catch it. Send him some food and a clean sweater, but stop making him go crosstown to piss in a cup during my fifth period class.
Thank you so much,
Amy Lane
And while I've got the attention of the local police force--
To all parole officers everywhere-
Gentlemen,
While I again, acknowledge that you are trying to do your jobs, if there is any possible way for you to stop cracking down on the thugs with the 2% in my class during finals week, I would be so damned grateful I don't think I could express it in words. Seriously--this kid hasn't been to my class all semester, I've got a room full of kids who have a snowball's chance in a cheap freezer, and your problem has just become their problem in a big way. Have a seminar, do a camp out, make them shine Santa's gnarly boots--something, anything, but stuff them in a room with people who can actually read and have some hope...pretty pretty pretty please?
Thank you so very much,
Amy Lane
And on the subject of common sense--
To the young man who rode his bike in the dark across the overpass crosswalk against traffic while I was looking over my left shoulder to see if I could turn right against the light--
I almost killed you. Because of you, I will drop dead five years to the day before my husband, and my four year old has another reason to shock the relatives with another fun term that rhymes with SMOLY TRUCK!!! Get some goddamned reflectors, learn some traffic laws and get your ass home before it gets dark or your life expectancy is even worse than mine, you moron.
I mean that sincerely
Amy Lane
And now, on a lighter note...
Dear Jensen Ackles and Jared Padilecki--
You are both dear sweet boys and talented actors, but if you insist upon invading my dreams, I would prefer you invade my night time REM sleep wherein I am eighteen, nubile, and single. Thank you both, and I'll see you both tonight...no, no, not one at a time. Both of you will be fine. Thanks so much again.
Amy Lane
And since we're talking about romance...
To the paper towel dispenser in the G-wing bathroom--
Is it really necessary that I buy you flowers, chocolates, and massage oils in order to get you to put out? Seriously, I spend more time romancing a cheap piece of plastic with bad gears than I do seducing my own husband--for craps sake, either give up the ghost of the horny old bastard that possesses you or fall off the goddamned wall!!!
Thanks so much
Amy Lane
*whew*! Glad I got that all off my chest...I might have to write a few more of those later...in the meantime, may the holidays be merry, bright and pretty. We're going to look for Christmas lights tomorrow night--too much fun for both short people and tall people alike. Hot chocolate, carols on the ipod, et. al:-)
Monday, December 17, 2007
A snarfed meme
Oh bugger...I just accidentally published this when I wasn't done...if anybody read it between that first nanosecond at 5:37 Tuesday night, and when it was accidentally published (I'd guess about 5:55) uhm... all those other answers were Netters--I hadn't put in my own answers!
Anyway, I'm up to my asshole in alligators...finals, knitting, and Christmas shopping, oh my! You all know the drill--and to that end, I'm copping out...I mean doing a meme... but, hey, it's Christmas! What's more Christmas than a Christmas meme?
1. Wrapping paper or gift bags? A joyful and complete mix of both.
2. Real or artificial tree? Real, hand cut by Chicken and the Cave Troll--with a little help from my parents.
3. When do you put up the tree? Sometime before T's B-day (12/12) and after Thanksgiving.
4. When do you take it down? Sometime after New Years and before Valentines Day
5. Do you like eggnog? Fat, sugar and a cool name--what's not to like?
6. Favorite gift received as a child? My dad's old F-stop guitar. I never learned to play.
7. Do you have a nativity scene? No--I'm too confused about faith to have a nativity scene.
8. Hardest person to buy for? Mate. We're always broke at Christmas and he always insists on martyring it out..."No presents for me...we have no money." This year he's up to his armpits in jeans and underwear.
9. Easiest person to buy for? The short people. Walk into a Toy store and start chucking stuff in the basket.
10. Worst Christmas present you ever got? Alexa (my real mom) gives the worst--but it's not her fault. Besides mental illness, she also has to deal with busses that come and go from what I call 'Crack'Ho blvd.'.. My family has gotten a lot of bags of cheap mints, shampoo, hollow plastic barbie dolls for the boys--that sort of thing. It's funny, though--we always love these things. It really is a case of 'the thought that counts'.
11. Mail or email Christmas cards? I have a semi-famous Christmas letter. This year we're sending a DVD that the kids made, featuring some great pictures and done to songs they picked out. Are you ready? AC/DC, Back in Black (T), Simon & Garfunkle's 'It's all happening at the zoo' (Chicken) and Styx, 'Renegade' (Chicken). I was so proud I bought Dire Straits on iTunes to expand their repetoire!!
12. Favorite Christmas movie? Love Actually, Die Hard and Lethal Weapon.
13. When do you start shopping for Christmas? Black Friday
14. Have you ever recycled a Christmas present? It's a definite possibility.
15. Favorite thing to eat on Christmas? Ham and garlic mashed.
16. Clear lights or colored on the tree? Colored:-)
17. Favorite Christmas song? Carol of the Bells--and this really pretty one by Sting on one of those Very Special Christmas albums (The Angel Gabriel)--oh yeah. And Bruce Springsteen's version of Santa Claus is coming to town.
18. Travel at Christmas or stay home? Depends on the year.
19. Can you name all of Santa’s Reindeer? You know Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and Vixen, Comet and Cupid and Donner and Blitzen, but do you recall, the most famous reindeer of all?
20. Angel or star on top of tree? This year it's a star. It used to be a glitter star ornament that we suspended over the tree, but it sort of lost it's glitter.
21. Open presents Christmas Eve or morning? A family present on Christmas Eve, but Santa comes overnight, so we have Christmas carnage in the morning.
22. Most annoying thing this time of year? Commercials, lack of money, lack of time, a desire to knit every cold kid a scarf...23. Do you decorate your tree in any theme or color? Mmmhmmm... Early American White Trash with Kids.
24. What do you leave for Santa? Cookies and Chicken. (Mom usually cooks chicken on Christmas eve--Santa likes fried chicken leftovers.)
Anyway, I'm up to my asshole in alligators...finals, knitting, and Christmas shopping, oh my! You all know the drill--and to that end, I'm copping out...I mean doing a meme... but, hey, it's Christmas! What's more Christmas than a Christmas meme?
1. Wrapping paper or gift bags? A joyful and complete mix of both.
2. Real or artificial tree? Real, hand cut by Chicken and the Cave Troll--with a little help from my parents.
3. When do you put up the tree? Sometime before T's B-day (12/12) and after Thanksgiving.
4. When do you take it down? Sometime after New Years and before Valentines Day
5. Do you like eggnog? Fat, sugar and a cool name--what's not to like?
6. Favorite gift received as a child? My dad's old F-stop guitar. I never learned to play.
7. Do you have a nativity scene? No--I'm too confused about faith to have a nativity scene.
8. Hardest person to buy for? Mate. We're always broke at Christmas and he always insists on martyring it out..."No presents for me...we have no money." This year he's up to his armpits in jeans and underwear.
9. Easiest person to buy for? The short people. Walk into a Toy store and start chucking stuff in the basket.
10. Worst Christmas present you ever got? Alexa (my real mom) gives the worst--but it's not her fault. Besides mental illness, she also has to deal with busses that come and go from what I call 'Crack'Ho blvd.'.. My family has gotten a lot of bags of cheap mints, shampoo, hollow plastic barbie dolls for the boys--that sort of thing. It's funny, though--we always love these things. It really is a case of 'the thought that counts'.
11. Mail or email Christmas cards? I have a semi-famous Christmas letter. This year we're sending a DVD that the kids made, featuring some great pictures and done to songs they picked out. Are you ready? AC/DC, Back in Black (T), Simon & Garfunkle's 'It's all happening at the zoo' (Chicken) and Styx, 'Renegade' (Chicken). I was so proud I bought Dire Straits on iTunes to expand their repetoire!!
12. Favorite Christmas movie? Love Actually, Die Hard and Lethal Weapon.
13. When do you start shopping for Christmas? Black Friday
14. Have you ever recycled a Christmas present? It's a definite possibility.
15. Favorite thing to eat on Christmas? Ham and garlic mashed.
16. Clear lights or colored on the tree? Colored:-)
17. Favorite Christmas song? Carol of the Bells--and this really pretty one by Sting on one of those Very Special Christmas albums (The Angel Gabriel)--oh yeah. And Bruce Springsteen's version of Santa Claus is coming to town.
18. Travel at Christmas or stay home? Depends on the year.
19. Can you name all of Santa’s Reindeer? You know Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and Vixen, Comet and Cupid and Donner and Blitzen, but do you recall, the most famous reindeer of all?
20. Angel or star on top of tree? This year it's a star. It used to be a glitter star ornament that we suspended over the tree, but it sort of lost it's glitter.
21. Open presents Christmas Eve or morning? A family present on Christmas Eve, but Santa comes overnight, so we have Christmas carnage in the morning.
22. Most annoying thing this time of year? Commercials, lack of money, lack of time, a desire to knit every cold kid a scarf...23. Do you decorate your tree in any theme or color? Mmmhmmm... Early American White Trash with Kids.
24. What do you leave for Santa? Cookies and Chicken. (Mom usually cooks chicken on Christmas eve--Santa likes fried chicken leftovers.)
Sunday, December 16, 2007
Apparently...
The Cave Troll didn't think I gave him a good enough story in the last entry. About an hour after I hit 'publish post', Ladybug and the Cave Troll were doing predictable yet unmentionable things with the slinky Needletart sent us so long ago. Mate told him to stop, and then, because Cave Troll needs to know the why of things, showed him the little divot in the corner of the wall where the paint was chipped.
"Holy shit!" Exclaimed my four-year old in surprise. "Can we put a band-aid on that?"
When Mate was done laughing, I assured him, most vehemently, that 'Holy Shit' was T's expression, and not mine. (And then we laughed some more, because we are bad parents and it was fucking funny!!!!)
"Holy shit!" Exclaimed my four-year old in surprise. "Can we put a band-aid on that?"
When Mate was done laughing, I assured him, most vehemently, that 'Holy Shit' was T's expression, and not mine. (And then we laughed some more, because we are bad parents and it was fucking funny!!!!)
PMS, Canned food, and doing the Monkey...
I went to school today (Sunday) and sat in the 40 degree cold and graded papers, battling my resentment the entire time. But my students deserve some effort too, so I guess I'll call it good.
Other than that? I've got a whole bunch of little to chat about... where to start...where to start...
* Big T asked if he could bring some canned food to his school's canned food drive. NO problem, I said...and then he asked for more, and then some more and I finally said, "Okay, just make sure we have staples left. You know, soup, tomatoes, that sort of thing...." And so my profound surprise when I went to make something and discovered that there were no tomatoes in the entire freaking house. "How could you!" I ranted, "Didn't you realize that we don't have any tomatoes for me to cook?" And then my son smiled, the sweet, sly, rancorless smile. "I know," he said sweetly. You know, until that moment, I had no idea how much he loathed tomatoes?
*Immediately after her bath, Ladybug went scrambling over to our bed and climbed up, butt-nekkid and dripping wet. I scrambled after her, but the ginormous laundry monster got in the way, and she sat up at the head of the bed, laughing her wet-baby ass off. "What do you think you're doing!" I asked, exasperated. In answer, she stood up and started dancing, swinging alternate hands over her head and jumping up and down in time. It was quite obvious to all that she knew exactly what she was doing. She was doing the Monkey.
* Chicken has become a woman. Sort of--she started her monthly bleeding ritual, anyway. In response to this, Mate was a wee bit put off. "Oh gees...the hormones," a haunted look at myself, "the mood swings...how are we going to deal with it?"
"Relax!" I snorted. "She's been practicing for this moment since she was two years old." Even Mate had to concede that this was true.
* The Cave Troll has been nuts about Christmas. Every morning when he wakes up he says "Merry Christmas, mom!" Every night, the kid who can't wait to get home, asks me to take him around the block so we can see who has their lights up. He's been a terrible pain for most other times, moody, defiant, irritable--you know, Cave-Trollish in the extreme. But that's okay--because being woken up every morning with a big kiss and a "Merry Christmas" makes all that other stuff worth it.
* I was putting away groceries and trying to figure out when this house got so small when I remembered how big it seemed when T was 5 and Chicken was 3 and we moved in. And then I remembered the two other people that had moved in after that and I tried to imagine how much room we'd have if it were still just the four of us--and how much money as well. And then I got all sad and decided that floor space and refrigerator space and a retirement fund were for the weak and uninspired. (If you have these things, don't point it out--I will not be able to contain my jealousy and then my tender moment of anti-materialism will be shot to hell.)
Other than that? I've got a whole bunch of little to chat about... where to start...where to start...
* Big T asked if he could bring some canned food to his school's canned food drive. NO problem, I said...and then he asked for more, and then some more and I finally said, "Okay, just make sure we have staples left. You know, soup, tomatoes, that sort of thing...." And so my profound surprise when I went to make something and discovered that there were no tomatoes in the entire freaking house. "How could you!" I ranted, "Didn't you realize that we don't have any tomatoes for me to cook?" And then my son smiled, the sweet, sly, rancorless smile. "I know," he said sweetly. You know, until that moment, I had no idea how much he loathed tomatoes?
*Immediately after her bath, Ladybug went scrambling over to our bed and climbed up, butt-nekkid and dripping wet. I scrambled after her, but the ginormous laundry monster got in the way, and she sat up at the head of the bed, laughing her wet-baby ass off. "What do you think you're doing!" I asked, exasperated. In answer, she stood up and started dancing, swinging alternate hands over her head and jumping up and down in time. It was quite obvious to all that she knew exactly what she was doing. She was doing the Monkey.
* Chicken has become a woman. Sort of--she started her monthly bleeding ritual, anyway. In response to this, Mate was a wee bit put off. "Oh gees...the hormones," a haunted look at myself, "the mood swings...how are we going to deal with it?"
"Relax!" I snorted. "She's been practicing for this moment since she was two years old." Even Mate had to concede that this was true.
* The Cave Troll has been nuts about Christmas. Every morning when he wakes up he says "Merry Christmas, mom!" Every night, the kid who can't wait to get home, asks me to take him around the block so we can see who has their lights up. He's been a terrible pain for most other times, moody, defiant, irritable--you know, Cave-Trollish in the extreme. But that's okay--because being woken up every morning with a big kiss and a "Merry Christmas" makes all that other stuff worth it.
* I was putting away groceries and trying to figure out when this house got so small when I remembered how big it seemed when T was 5 and Chicken was 3 and we moved in. And then I remembered the two other people that had moved in after that and I tried to imagine how much room we'd have if it were still just the four of us--and how much money as well. And then I got all sad and decided that floor space and refrigerator space and a retirement fund were for the weak and uninspired. (If you have these things, don't point it out--I will not be able to contain my jealousy and then my tender moment of anti-materialism will be shot to hell.)
Friday, December 14, 2007
The most stressful break EVER.
In light of my "submitting Bitter Moon" triumph, and the incredible avalanche of crap that I have waiting on my desk, I decided to be a grown-up, and take a break from my pipe-dream for a week and a half. i.e. NO WRITING. Bitter Moon II is officially on hiatus. No writing on it. No thinking about it. I shall throw myself whole-heartedly and passionately into the job that pays the bills.
My Aunt Fanny.
Don't get me wrong--I haven't written. I've devoted my nights to knitting (my babysitter is leaving on Monday, so I have to finish 'Fetching' and a hat this weekend) and my days to...
Well, pootering about. I don't know how I can just sit here, up to my elbows (LITERALLY) in paperwork, and surf the net randomly for a half an hour before I remember that, HELLO, I have to grade these papers and complete this final. It is a mystery to me. So, not only am I not getting any of my shit done, I'M NOT GETTING ANY WRITING DONE EITHER! And you want to know what's worse? The writing is threatening to consume my brain. I almost called a student 'Aylan' today, and considering how homophobic my student body is, and how homophobic that character is NOT, this was a gaffe that could get me lynched when the book comes out. (Yes, some will read my book. Sometimes, having them talk to me about the books is better than the royalty check, For. Real.)
I'm seriously going to have to forward my final to my house so I can finish it and run it off this weekend. I would take the stack of papers, but I know from experience that the damned final has a better chance of getting done.
And in the meantime, I'm going to have to put on my garlic necklace and paint a blooded cross upon my chest to keep me away from the world's deadliest time vampire--the Internet! Who knew?
(btw? T appreciated everybody's good wishes. He really does have the sweetest smile when I tell him these things:-)
My Aunt Fanny.
Don't get me wrong--I haven't written. I've devoted my nights to knitting (my babysitter is leaving on Monday, so I have to finish 'Fetching' and a hat this weekend) and my days to...
Well, pootering about. I don't know how I can just sit here, up to my elbows (LITERALLY) in paperwork, and surf the net randomly for a half an hour before I remember that, HELLO, I have to grade these papers and complete this final. It is a mystery to me. So, not only am I not getting any of my shit done, I'M NOT GETTING ANY WRITING DONE EITHER! And you want to know what's worse? The writing is threatening to consume my brain. I almost called a student 'Aylan' today, and considering how homophobic my student body is, and how homophobic that character is NOT, this was a gaffe that could get me lynched when the book comes out. (Yes, some will read my book. Sometimes, having them talk to me about the books is better than the royalty check, For. Real.)
I'm seriously going to have to forward my final to my house so I can finish it and run it off this weekend. I would take the stack of papers, but I know from experience that the damned final has a better chance of getting done.
And in the meantime, I'm going to have to put on my garlic necklace and paint a blooded cross upon my chest to keep me away from the world's deadliest time vampire--the Internet! Who knew?
(btw? T appreciated everybody's good wishes. He really does have the sweetest smile when I tell him these things:-)
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