Booster Shot Random

Yes, I had a booster shot.  No. I did not turn into a zombie and run amok among the populace.  I got my shot, and except for some "I got punched in the shoulder" aches and pains, all was well.  I didn't even feel sickly.  From the shot, anyway.  

I usually feel sickly most days right now.  The stress gets me.  I seem to absorb the stress of others, too, while I am at it. They feel better, I go home upset. I find that I am clenching my teeth way more at work, so I don't say what I really want to say.  I have more in common with Roy Kent on Ted Lasso than is probably healthy, but that is what is going on in my head most days.  I may be smiling at you, but in my head there are chairs being tossed.  

My child has gone through FOUR pairs of shoes since August.  He has also taken to kicking a soccer ball against the wall at odd times.  Like when his father and I are watching a show that he specifically asked to watch.  That is pretty odd.  It's like he wants us to yell at him or something, just to check in.  I can't blame him too much. When I was a kid I gauged parental feelings by how freaked out they were.  Nobody freaking out equals everything is cool.  The one time in my life that I completely lost my mind was when my dad said the words, "I think we should go to the emergency room."  

My son is in a PowerPoint Ministry.  Yes, the boy is sitting in a tiny, sweaty room in front of a computer during the Mass, and he pushes buttons so everyone knows what prayer we are on, or the words to whatever song we are supposed to be singing.  You see, they removed all of the missals, and all of the song books from the church because of cooties, but people still need to follow along.  Snoozing in church was never allowed, even if you were a kid.  Except if you were a screaming baby--then EVERYONE wants that kid to fall asleep.  NOW.  But my teen seems to like to be in charge of the computer.  He understands computers, at least, even if he doesn't understand girls yet.  

Does anyone else have the ridiculous urge to find whatever baby is screaming on the other side of Walmart and help them so they stop crying?  I am certainly not one of those who would just let a baby cry, but there are those sorts out there.  I just never saw a point.  It's a baby--they don't know your reasons from a hole in the ground.  They just know that nobody is helping them, and that is just sad.  Not even a year old, and people are letting you down.  That is probably why there is so much anger out there now--somebody just left a baby crying for no good reason.      

Okay, that is it.  But I want you to do something for me.  I want you to look at yourself in the mirror and tell yourself something nice about your self to your self.  Nobody else has to know.  For example, I will occasionally tell my self that I have nice calves.  It's just a little thing, but it makes me feel better to be kind to myself.  Now you try it.  

Randoms

Random things today!

I've been buying those prepackaged salads for my work lunch.  I would love to be like those perfect women who spend their Sundays cooking and preparing their lunches for the week, but I also want to spend my Sundays not attached to a stove or in the kitchen.  So I head over to the grocery store, where they have wonderful salads all ready made.  I don't have to worry about throwing a bunch of stuff together in the mornings, I know exactly how many calories I'm eating, AND I get my veggies for the day. It's a win-win.  Plus, I found this edible cookie dough!  Yes, I know that all cookie dough is edible, but this stuff is supposed to not make you sickly if you eat it. It comes in a cup that I can take to work and have for dessert after my lunch. To make up for that salad I just ate instead of a cheeseburger.

Soccer season is almost over. I have become healthy enough to occasionally spend Zane's practices walking around the fields.  There's a sign saying that the distance around the field is a mile, but the pedometer on my phone says it's more like three-quarters.  Not that I'm complaining.  I've found some random along the way.  I'm glad that I am not the only Texan interested in preserving scientific facts rather than someone's "alternatives".  Facts are facts are facts. We all have our own opinions, and that's just fine.  But our opinions should be informed by real data, and there shouldn't be any debate over that. And we should at least be willing to listen to people and to consider their perspective, instead of unilaterally shutting them down. 

Dave Grohl, for those who don't know it, used to be the drummer for the band Nirvana.  However, he's been very busy since then, just being a musician and helping other musicians.  He's the hardest working man in show business, James Brown notwithstanding.  I found this quote from Mr. Grohl on the internet, and it resonated with me. I think I will make a poster and put it on the wall in my office so that the students who visit will  see it. Middle school kids try so hard to be like everyone else; but maybe they will at least think about this quote.  Maybe it will make sense to them someday, and maybe it will help them make a good decision one day.  

That would be really cool.

Plagiarism is Wrong and other Random

The buzz of the week is all about the Republican National Convention, the selection of the evil orange Donald Trump as a presidential candidate, and Mrs. Trump's introduction to society via her big speech on Monday.  That speech turned out to contain several passages verbatim from a speech given by Michelle Obama, which was unfortunate. 

Politics aside, plagiarism is wrong.  It's wrong no matter WHO does it.  Someone went to a great deal of effort to write that passage, and to steal it and claim it as your own is heinous. It's the same as stealing a musician's song and saying that you wrote it.  If you do such a thing, unintentionally or not, you should immediately own up to it and apologize profusely.  What you don't do is deny it or blame it on someone else. Period, end of story.  Anything else is just embarrassing.

But then again, this entire election season has been crazy.  I'd rather turn the television off and think of other things.  Like Nerf.  Larry and Zane have been hunting all over town for various Nerf guns, bows, rifles, etc.  They huddle over the computer, watching unboxing videos about new Nerf items.  Then they stage "epic" Nerf battles.  Which is fine with me, except...nobody wants to pick up the bullets.  Including me.  So if you come to my house, there are Nerf bullets all over the place.  Under the couch. On top of the couch.  Under the fridge. On top of the fridge. It's a mess. I've made small efforts to pick up a few, but the vast number of bullets all over just makes me tired. 

I'd also rather think about a vacation.  As in one where we actually go somewhere else and hang out, as opposed to just staying here and hanging out.  Next year, when I don't have any more surgeries or doctor visits and all the bills are paid, I would like to pack up the car and head to South Dakota.  We can check out Mount Rushmore, the Crazy Horse Monument, and Deadwood.  Plus, they have a place where they are digging up dinosaurs, so we can head over there.  Zane would love that.  Of course, Zane and his father want to go to Disney for the Star Wars convention.  Negotiations are ongoing.  We could split the difference and head over to Washington D.C. 

That's enough random for now.  I just realized that I start back to work on August 1st!!! Where does the time go?

An Update of Random

Since I've lost fingernails and toenails, I've had to cover those appendages with band aids.  Lots and lots of band aids.  I should have bought stock in the company, I've used so many band aids.  It takes me about 20 minutes every morning just to get all the band aids on, because do you know how hard it is to get band aids on when you already have band aids on?  And those things stick together, so that you sometimes have to just give up and start over.   It's been a trial for me, with my normal klutziness exacerbated by what they call neuropathy.  My fingertips are numb, in other words.  Why the medical people don't just speak plain English is sometimes beyond me.

Typing has been a bit, well...not impossible, but certainly more difficult, with band aids.  You really can't use a touch screen with your fingers bandaged up, for example. The computer does not recognize that you have band aids on, and just ignores you. And with band aids, you often hit the wrong key when typing; and then hit it again when you are trying to correct it.  I'm very slow at texting too, and thank goodness my friends have been patient--it's a good five minutes for me to type out "BRB" with my pinky! 

I have three more treatments to go, but they changed up my routine due to the side effects.  So today, all I was supposed to do was what they call a CBC.  This is code for "generic test of the blood"; so now, when you're watching a medical show, and they scream out that they need a "CBC, stat!", you will be ahead of the game.  They also weighed me and took my blood pressure, which was 119/74.  I haven't had a blood pressure reading that good since I was a teenager.  Maybe not even then.  Cancer might be the cure for high blood pressure.  I still don't recommend it. 

I didn't have any issues with the mediport this time(Yay!), and I waited for the results thinking that I could probably meet my mom for lunch at Denny's.  Say what you will about Denny's:  I love that place.  They have lots of food that I, as a person with chemo sores in her mouth and throat, can eat without grinding pain.  I lost five pounds in a week just because I can't eat much besides soup and eggs. Even bread is too rough! The nurses actually yelled at me for losing too much.  I pointed out that I likely have enough reserve fat to live comfortably for at least a month without food, but they still yelled.  That's why I have now been drinking lots of those Ensure shakes in addition to the soups and eggs.

Fruits and veggies are just too acidic for my throat right now, which has been frustrating for me.  Zane and his grandfather planted a garden, and the tomatoes went completely nuts with all the rain.  I have these huge, gorgeous tomatoes that I can stare at fondly, but I can't eat.   Summer is when gazpacho is a big hit, and I normally would be eating huge vats of the stuff right now, but I can't.  At least the will is there to eat.  I'll call that a win, while I dream of the day when I can actually eat all the food all the time.  What a great day that will be.    

Do you have any idea what the blood types of your children are?  I know that I'm one of those universal donors, but I don't remember my son's.  Or my husband's, for that matter.  I started to feel bad about that, but then I remembered that I have cancer and I don't need to worry about something like blood type right now.  Another good thing about having cancer is that you start to give yourself a pass on being a super mom.  Yes, I actually used to feel guilty that my kid didn't have the mom who makes the decorated cookies for the classroom "just because", or the mom who sews the wonderful costumes for the Spring Jamboree.  Cancer has done away with my Momguilt, at least for now.  I've learned to just do the best that I can, even if that just  means getting out of bed. 

Okay, time to give the fingertips a rest. 

Random Cancer Thoughts

My eyebrows are falling out.  I'm a bit concerned, because my eyebrows give me a facial expression.  What am I supposed to do when I want to look disdainful, or surprised, or whatever?  Around these parts, a lot of women just draw their eyebrows on. That's a big commitment on a daily basis.  What if I decide to go with the Spock brows, then find myself in a situation that calls for Surprised Clown? Do I tell people to wait while I run to the restroom and draw on a new expression?  It's a dilemma. 

My immunity is down due to the chemo.  This means that all of the immunity to the pollens in my neck of the woods is gone.  And it's as if the spring trees around here know this.  It's as if they are celebrating.  Don't get me wrong, they're beautiful, the trees.  Trees that I didn't even know could flower are covered in explosions of yellow and pink and white right now, and it is glorious.  But my allergies are going nuts, and I want to break out a chainsaw.

I bought a new bra with a pocket for my fake boob.  I guess that I've lost a little weight or something, because that fake boob would just not sit still on my chest.  I'd find it up next to my ear, or over on the other side of my chest getting chummy with my real boob.  As I was in meetings all that day, I could not merely move said fake boob to its proper location without drawing attention to my chest.  I had to be sneaky about it, pretending to pull my shirt down or stretching while yanking on my bra from behind.  I didn't even know I could do that. 

Since I obviously have cancer, random people are approaching me, which has been a new experience for me.  Some hug me. Some tell me that they will pray for me.  Others tell me that they've been through cancer.  Still others tell me that they or a loved one have just been diagnosed.  It's as if the imaginary wall that I'd built around myself over the years fell down.  Those who used to keep their distance are now stepping right up.  Oddly, I don't mind.  In small doses.  My introverted self couldn't take a huggy crowd for very long.

I'm experimenting with spring hats these days.  I found a lovely straw fedora at the dollar store that I think suits me quite well.  I do not want to get a sunburn on my currently bald head; I cannot even imagine the pain of that kind of a burn.  I tried a scarf, but I felt as though I looked too Pirate.  I could go along with saying "ARRGH!" and "Ahoy Mateys!", but I don't think that I could drive with an eye patch. 

Since my head sometimes gets hot, I take off my hats when I'm by myself.  And of course I sometimes forget that I don't have my hat on.  Adults pretend not to notice, but kids just stop and stare.  They're not being mean, they're just curious.  My son asked me to show his friends at school my bald head.  When I took off my hat, the boys gathered round. 

"Cool!"  was the consensus.  It wasn't what I expected, but kids surprise me every day. 

A Telephone Is Ringing

My phone is ringing.

Every weeknight night, between five and nine in the evening, the phone rings at least once.  Most nights it rings at least twice, occasionally three times.  Whoever is calling waits for the answering machine to pick up. Then they hang up.  

The only people who ever call us on our land line are people reminding us of appointments, the pest control company, and the random survey person.   The pest control company and the people calling about appointments always leave a message.  Even the wrong numbers sometimes leave messages.  Somebody named Gloria used to drunk dial a guy named Carlos a few years ago, for instance. I guess that she sobered up enough to realize that she was calling us with her tale of woe.

But these guys?  Never leave a message.  They. Just. Keep. Calling.

Who the heck is it? 

Is it a bill collector gone bad?  We've paid everything this year, but I've read that sometimes these guys will just randomly call people to see if they owe somebody money. 

Could it be a salesperson?  What the heck could they be selling over the phone?  Aluminum siding?  Not really a good idea, particularly in a place where the temperatures during the summer hit 100. 

Maybe it's the NSA.  They've mined some important data from my phone records, and they want to ask me about a particular call back in the summer of 1986. The fate of the world might hang in the balance! Or not.

Could it be Publisher's Clearing House, telling me I've won a bazillion dollars, paid in installments every year until the sun explodes.  Nah--those guys show up at the door.

Maybe it's people doing phone scams. If I answer, maybe they'll try to sell me a life insurance policy for my cats.  Maybe they'll ask me about what happens when I fall and can't get up.  Maybe they'll try to con me into loaning some Nigerian prince some money. 

We just don't know.

So we don't answer the phone.  We decided that, if it was someone important, they would leave a message on our land line.  No message equals not important.  

We probably should just get rid of the land line; that would solve our problem.  But I'm old fashioned.  I grew up with a land line, attached to the wall in the kitchen.  When I was a teen, I was attached to that phone, even when I had to pull that cord and earpiece around the corner "for privacy". I don't want to let go of that invisible cord just yet. 

Besides, land lines might come back into fashion some day.  And then we'll be the cool kids on the block.  The cool kids who won't answer their phone.






4.) Who was the last person to call you…what did they want this time?

So Random

One of the elementary schools where I work is all about going to college.  Which is great--if you have any college at all under your belt, it equals a larger paycheck. And college is not that difficult--it's more about perseverance and focus than it is smarts, I've learned.  Anyway, The school has placed pennants from every single college or university they could find, no matter how big or how small it might be, or where it might be located.  I found a pennant from Quincy College, where I believe my parents met way back in 1963, and there's pennants from the schools such as Duke and SMU.  But my attention, and my stomach, was riveted by one pennant in particular:

Bacone College?  I spent a few moments considering the possible degree plans, and how delicious they might be.  Could an MB, Master of Bacon, be in my future?  Or a Doctorate of Bacon Administration?

My son was a little upset with the Turtle Man, the star of Animal Planet's Call of the Wildman.  Since all the animals in Tennessee were hibernating last winter, Turtle Man and his crew decided that Texas was the place to be.  Zane could not understand why Turtle Man did not come to visit him, and I explained that we did not have any critters for the Turtle Man to catch. We do not have bats, or rats, just cats.  Turtle Man doesn't catch cats, and that's that.  Hey, I accidentally rhymed!  Hopefully that goes away. 

We bought a new car, an SUV, because my best friend will no longer speak to me if I buy a Mom Van.  Since Larry still works in New Braunfels for now, we needed a second car. We marched into Carmax with a purpose, which I will tell you is sooo much better than wandering aimlessly around every car dealership.  I'd looked up the 2009 Hyundai Santa Fe online, so we already knew our price range and what we wanted. We'd even talked to Zane about loans and how they worked.  Zane's take on that was to march into Carmax and tell the guy, "We want to buy an SUV, but we don't have any money."  Lucky the salesman had a sense of humor!  This will be Larry's vehicle.  He has wanted something that could be used to haul all the things he needs for the soccer field, and now he has it.  Zane is beside himself with happiness. Because the backseat has a cupholder! Remember when little things like that made you feel like it was Christmas? 

My BBF(Best Blogging Friend) sent me an adorable birthday present.  She knows me so very well!  Andrea(from over at Maybe It's Just Me) sent me a Lego Statue of Liberty for my new desk.  I spent a happy five minutes putting it together, because I'm older and my fingers are not quite so nimble.  But I was so very pleased to have a moment to play!

I've been watching Ghost Adventure on the Travel Channel. It's very different from Ghost Hunter on Syfy.  Where GH is all about disproving a haunting, GA went all out and drank the Kool-Aid.   Those guys will practically jump for joy when something happens, no matter how mundane.  They're all about the scare. 

Today is Zane's first day back at school, and he will be in Kindergarten.  We attended Open House with all the other parents. When we entered the room and introduced ourselves, both the teacher and her aide said "So YOU'RE Zane!"  Larry and I looked at each other, concerned. What parent wants to hear that their child has been discussed that much around the xerox machine?  We needn't have worried, though.  One of Zane's friends from last year, Austin, showed up before we got there, and all he could talk about was how Zane was in his class, and this is where Zane will sit, and this is Zane's cubby, etc.  Austin reportedly just went on and on about my child, as if Zane was the best kid in the whole world.  That was how the teachers knew my son.  Larry and I felt better after that.  We interrogated talked with the teacher about her behavior system, which involves some sort of rainbow.  I am not sure how Zane will do with that--he tends to do better when things are laid out more simply.  But she's the teacher, and I will let her figure all that out.  Or not--Zane might surprise us. 


Stacy is still moving across country.  She will be back in September, I think.  I am keeping the random going for her, but I'm being even more random by posting this on MONDAY!!!!

No Butt-Prints on the Couch, and other Random

Everyone is talking all about the NSA snooping operation.   It's terrible, it's horrible, it's awful!  Except...I remember twelve years ago, when The Patriot Act was first brought up, and the people who raised some alarm bells were shouted down, because it was all to protect us from the terrorists.  The law passed, and twelve years later, some idiot who should have never been allowed access to any data(seriously--don't they do some sort of psychological evaluation on these people before they let them into the secret room?) carries off a laptop to Hong Kong and the whole country is up in arms.  This Snowden character isn't a hero; he's a terrorist.  He performed an action designed to terrorize a country in order to get whatever it is he wants.  We elect our government for the express purpose of making decisions for us, and it wasn't that guy's job to reveal those secrets, as far as I'm concerned. He needs to just shut up and quit going on and on about the government trying to kill him.  The government has better things to do.  I have nothing to hide, and if the NSA wants to be bored to tears, they are welcome to read my texts, emails, and listen in on my phone calls.  Nothing to see there!

Our family has been parked in front of the television for every single NBA Finals game.  Larry assigned us places, because we were in those spots the first time the Spurs won, and what if THAT was the reason they won?  Zane jokingly said that he was going to root for the Heat, and Larry told Zane that if he did that, he was sleeping out in the backyard.  The man is that serious about his Spurs!  Sunday night I was hollering just as loud as he was for Manu Ginobili.  I don't know why I like him, but I sure love it when he gets going.  He's very energetic, so it's likely that I'm just envious.  I used to get envious of their muscles and low body fat, but then I realized that being in shape is part of their job.  They have to work out like that, or they don't play as well, and then they don't play at all. Once I looked at the situation from that angle, I didn't envy those biceps so much.  Plus, I think that I'd look pretty silly with Tony Parker's biceps. 

The other day, Zane told us that we are not allowed to leave butt-prints on the couch.  I just stared at him.  Where the heck did he get that from?  It's going to bother me until I figure it out.  Larry and I can generally trace the comments that Zane makes back to a specific show or a game or a movie, but we are currently stumped.  It's times like this that I wish I could do that Vulcan Mind Meld thing with my son, so I could just pull out that information.  I hate waiting. 

I've been a reading fool lately. I get into these grooves, and I just read everything in sight, one right after the other.  I've read the latest John Sandford book, and I've read a ton of Amanda Quick, and I've been making my way through a book called Badass: Ultimate Deathmatch.  That last book is about some of history's greatest duels, battles, etc. Not what you'd expect me to read, but it's history, and I loves me some history!   Today the latest Neil Gaiman book comes out, and I'm looking forward to reading that, too. 

Only THREE more days of work and then I am FREE for the summer!  I sort of feel like a kid during the last week of school--I can barely sit still!  Do you remember how you felt when you were a kid, anxiously waiting for that last bell to ring so you could run home and begin the summer?  It's like that.  I have all sorts of plans for us, including a trip to...SeaWorld.  Zane wants to meet Shamu, and I can't wait for him to see the Sharks!  I'd like to go to a Great Wolf Lodge, but those rooms are crazy--expensive.  300$ a night for a room with children is too much--we could spend almost a week on the beach for that.  So I'm waiting for a more reasonable price, like 150$.  Seriously--$300+ for a room, not including the 42 extra charges and taxes they add on.  For that much, I want an in-room masseuse, a free steak dinner, and a cabana boy at my side with a palm fan, just in case I get sweaty.

I was a Bad Mom yesterday.  I came home after working ten hours, and I decided that I didn't need to go to soccer practice with Larry and Zane.  Larry is perfectly capable of taking care of our child, after all, and I wanted to just veg.  Besides, I've discussed how the other soccer moms treat me.  After a long day of work, who needs that?  I get enough poor treatment during my day, thank you!  Zane has his very first soccer tournament this weekend, and I hope that he does well. 


Go visit Miss Stacy, because she is the awesome!

Random, Sweet, Random

Spring is here, or close by.  I can tell because while it is usually a balmy 77 degrees during the day, it's a frigid 37 during the nights.  I got up this morning all nice and toasty, to let Maisy outside, and froze the second that I opened the door.  THAT will wake you up in the morning!  Geez!  I certainly wanted to hibernate after all that. 

Remember that second head I said that I was growing on my neck?  Turns out that it wasn't a second head, but a pyogenic granuloma.  Once I got into the exam room and took off the bandaids, the dermatologist said something along the lines of "Wow."  Apparently I wasn't supposed to wait so long to come in, but at first I thought that the darn thing was just a zit, and then after that I thought it might be a skin tag, a mole, or a freakishly large tick. Sue me. I'm not stupid, but in these sorts of cases, I really need some sort of flashing neon sign to pop up someplace and tell me to see a doctor.  Anyway, after the doctor and her assistant recovered from their surprise at the size of my problem, they sprang into action.  Before I knew it, the assistant was injecting my neck with lidocaine and they were slicing that pyogenic granuloma right off.  Except that now I was bleeding, so they had to cauterize the wound.  It is very disconcerting, seeing smoke rising from your own body.  At least she warned me to breathe through my mouth before she started--nobody likes the smell of burnt flesh.  Especially their own.  And no, I did not immediately want to go eat barbecue. 

Since it is spring break, I had to visit at least one new dining establishment, and so we went to La Gloria.  They offer "Street Foods of Mexico", which are tacos and such--things you can walk around holding.  I enjoyed the food, although I wish we had insisted on sitting in a different spot.  My friend Evil Laura is extremely skilled at demanding things at restaurants.  She would have demanded to be seated in a different area, and magically we would have free food and the manager would be hovering over us.  I still don't know how she does it!  Anyway, yes that is a picture of me up there, in case you're wondering.  I am the one with the hat.

So there's a comet passing us by.  The comet should be visible to the naked eye until the 18th or so, the weatherman says.  I would love to be able to see the comet, and I would love showing the comet to Zane, but there's a problem.  Too many lights!  Light pollution is horrible around here.  I can remember, as a kid, being outside after dark in the summer and finding the sky bursting at the seams with stars.  Now I can barely find the constellation Orion.  I understand that it is necessary to have some lights on at night, but maybe not so many.  We will have to drive somewhere to see the stars, and that is just sad.

The Walking Dead only has three more episodes left before the end of the season!  There's a couple of characters that I wouldn't mind so much if the zombies got them.  I know that's not nice, but if you're supposed to be in survival mode, throwing certain annoying people  to the zombies to ensure that you are able to escape just seems like the thing to do. I often think about what I would do if I were in such a situation.  Would I be helping people, or would I be tossing them into the zombie mob?   I'd like to think that I would be a good person and make good choices that would benefit mankind, but I don't know for sure.  That survival of the fittest feeling is very strong. 

We were watching an episode of Gator Boys on television, and one of the alligators just whacked the heck out of one of the characters. The alligator had tape around its mouth, so it couldn't bite, but the poor man had blood pouring out of the side of his head and he very definitely had a concussion.  Zane immediately wanted to know if the guy had died.  He's at that age where he is starting to understand what death is, even if the concept is still a little hazy.  The boy is also at that age where he is beginning to understand "real" and "make-believe", and he will sometimes ask if the show he is watching is real or not.  Since most reality shows are staged a little or a whole lot, sometimes it is difficult to answer the question, but we try anyway.  


I'm hooking up with Stacy over at her place.  Go check her out!

Pre-Christmas Random

The family went to see The Hobbit last Saturday.  We went to the first showing at 10am, and were blessed with a less than packed theater, and we got to sit in the most fortuitous spot for movie viewing.  Where is that?  That is the spot where you can get up and leave the theater without disturbing other patrons.  For us, these are seats where one of us is on the aisle.  Since Larry is the one who has been impatiently waiting for this movie since the Return of the King was finished, I was the one who took Zane to the bathroom four or five times, got more popcorn, got more drinks, etc. So I missed a little of the movie.  Normally this would bother me, but I am sure that I will be seeing the 3D version of the movie as well as the 48-frames-per-second version that people either love or hate.  If any theater in San Antonio has that particular version; we seem to be looked upon as a less than educated movie going audience, and they might not think anyone would be interested in something new.  

Christopher Lee is in The Hobbit, revising his role as Saruman the White Wizard.  Christopher Lee actually met Tolkien, and that already makes him cooler than most people.  What is also cool is that Christopher Lee has been in more movies than anybody. Think about how many movies he's starred in, or had a cameo, etc.  That's a very long and distinguished career for an actor.  I don't think that I want to be a school psychologist for that long; there's only so many IQ tests one can give before it all runs together. 

Speaking of movies, I really would like to see the new Tom Cruise movie, which is based on a character from a Lee Child novel.  I'm a bit leery, however.  The character, Jack Reacher, is described as 6'5", and 250 lbs.  Tom Cruise is what--5'7"?   Also, Jack Reacher is described as not all that great looking.  Which is going to make this movie a bit awkward, but I'm willing to give Cruise the benefit of the doubt.  He has shown before that he can actually act, so if anyone can pull it off, he can.

There's quite a few movies coming out over the next year that I'm eager to see, including the new Superman movie and the new Star Trek movie.  There's also another Iron Man movie and another Thor movie!  Have you noticed a theme to the movies I want to see?  If a film is 'romantic',  'arty', or 'drama", I would rather wait and see the movie at home.  That way, if I cry and get all puffy, nobody sees that.  I go to the movies to escape, so I want lots of action, stuff blowing up, people getting smacked around without suffering any significant damage, etc.  Those sorts of movies lend themselves to the big screen, I think. 

I am halfway finished with my Christmas shopping, thanks to Amazon.  I don't particularly enjoy big crowds anymore, so I am happy to do my shopping online.  I hope to sneak out during my lunch hour to grab a couple of gifts, but I may just have to get up early on Saturday.  Zane has asked for a Nintendo DS, and I think that we are also getting him a new bike.  He may be ready for us to take off the training wheels this year, which will be both good and bad.  Bad, just because he will be riding way faster than I can run, even on a good day.   Between Zane on his bike and walking Maisy, I may even lose some weight!

Zane wanted to give presents to all of his teachers, so I let him rummage through all the stretchy bracelets I've made over the past year. He and I put them together; I hold the stretchy part, and Zane  puts the beads on.  I figured that doing that activity would be good for his fine motor skills, but we won't see the benefits from that until he starts actual writing.  Right now he's just copying letters.

I will be going to my son's "Christmas Sing-a-long" this week. I'm skipping work for a couple of hours, but it will be worth it.  I will have to bring the camera, and the Flip camera.  Zane has been singing Christmas carols nonstop for the last month, and we've been amazed at what he is remembering.  I'm so eager to see my little boy up there, but I hope that I don't embarrass him with my cheering.

I think that's about all the random I have for today.  Please go and visit Stacy over at Stacy Uncorked, because she is awesome.   Also, hug your child today, and tell them that you love them.  Tell all of your loved ones that you love them, as a matter of fact. 

A Randoming We Go

Sunday, to keep busy, I baked six dozen cookies.  I also baked some brownies, and made two batches of fudge.  I even added pecans to the fudge!  I was very proud of myself, since I did not burn anything, nor did I set fire to anything.  I also did not nibble on many of the cookies as they came out of the oven.  I probably should have just strapped the cookie dough to my thighs, but I am trying to show restraint and only gorge myself on other people's cookies.

I love Christmas music--in small doses. I sang all those songs many, many times, and they get stuck in my head.  I don't like to hear them sung or played off-key, which happens often.   I am sort of a caroling snob. I just realized.  But I have a son who is currently running through the house singing "Fleece Navidoc", so I am sure that I will get over that.  My favorite Christmas song is the Hallelujah Chorus, which you're not likely to hear while caroling, but it's a very uplifting song. 

We went to sleep on Sunday night with temperatures in the 70s.  We woke up on Monday with them in the 40s.  To say that was a bit of a shock is an understatement.  You'd think that with the extra blubber I carry around, I'd be warm enough, but this is that "bone deep" cold.  It's like your bones freeze first, and once that happens, it takes days to thaw out.  I wasn't all that excited about Maisy waking me up at one in the morning so that I could take her outside to piddle, as a result of the chill.  It's supposed to freeze tonight, in the twenties.  After that, the weather will return to its regularly scheduled winter programming of 70 degrees. 

He's looking at me like I'm weird, isn't he?

Because soccer is a big deal in our house, my husband has been reading up on all the various soccer leagues and their teams.  I keep hearing the same names over and over, like Rooney and Sir Alex Somebody.  I think he's a soccer coach who was knighted. Eventually some of what my husband says will sink in; I always learn so much from listening to him on our drive in to work.  Contrary to my unenlightened beliefs, for example, David Beckham is not the god of soccer.  I know, it was a shock to me, as well.  No, the current god of soccer is Lionel Messi, who plays for Barcelona.  He is so great that when he was injured last week, the entire planet collectively freaked out, imagining the horror of soccer without him. It was just a bruise, however, and the world rejoiced.  Oh, and Messi also broke some sort of record, but he's just that good.  If I could do all of that, I believe that I would need a nap. 

A nap, and lots and lots of painkillers.

Zane has his Christmas list prepared.  It is very short.  He wants "Everything".  He wants stuff that he's never even seen before.  He came home the other day and informed me that he wanted "Beyblades".  If a commercial comes on for a toy, Zane wants it.  Doesn't matter that it's Barbie's Dream Castle, or an Audi.  Does every kid do that?  Zane doesn't want all the presents to himself, he just wants to make sure that he gets one as well. I know that this is developmentally appropriate for five year olds and some forty year olds, but that doesn't mean that I have to like it.  I've had some difficulty restraining my natural tendency to yell "That's it--nobody is getting ANYTHING!"   I just get fed up with the "wanting", which inevitably is followed by the "whining".  I think that this weekend, Zane and I will pack up some of Zane's older toys and take them to Goodwill. Maybe if he's the one doing the giving, it will mean something for him.

Larry and I have been all about SongPop these days.  It's an app/Facebook game.  You listen to snippets of songs and see if you can guess, then your opponent gets a turn.  It is very much a "Name That Tune" type of game.  I've been doing well in the Classic Rock types of categories, but the others?  Yeesh.  I thought that "Ska" was some sort of skater music. 

Anyway, I'm visiting Stacy over at Stacy Uncorked.  Go check her out, and tell her that she doesn't look a day over twenty-nine!

Randomitis

If any of my readers spot Sponge Bob Squarepants, please let him know that I have his leg.  I don't know if he still needs it.  He's a sponge, and he might have already grown a new one. 

Thanksgiving is this week.  I just realized that last week.  For some reason I thought that I had a whole extra week in there.  I blame Daylight Savings.  I plan to blame Daylight Savings for everything that goes wrong for at least the next month.  It's my right as an American, to blame odd things for every calamity that strikes me. 

On Sunday we went into PetSmart because I thought that Zane would like to check out the birds and the reptiles and fish.  Instead, we found a pet adoption day, and puppies! (yes, there were cats there, too, and though I wanted to take them all home with me, I did not.  I may lose my crazy cat lady status)  Zane was very interested in the dogs.  He's been asking for one for some time, but we've been hesitant.  We weren't sure that Zane was ready.  However, at the adoption event, the trainer interviewed Zane very carefully.  She asked him questions about what he would do if the puppy chewed his toys or pooped on his bed.  I did not hear everything, but the trainer was very impressed with my son.  Larry and I discussed it at home, filled out our application, and brought home a little Lab mix puppy.  She(we are in negotiations as to her name) is sleeping in a crate at the moment, because our two cats need time to figure out just what the heck is going on.  Poor Pounce will probably come out from under the bed next year sometime. 

No, my cousins are still not speaking to me. They are still mad about the election, and likely will stay mad until the next election.  I'm just glad that they won't be at the Thanksgiving Day meal.  That would be awkward, and I might have to drink more than my usual two glasses of wine.

Now, I don't want PETA showing up over here, but I would like to know what the rules are for this particular contest.  Who are the judges of such events? Does one have to carve a turkey in record time?  Is there chicken plucking in this event?  Are cleavers involved, or do they allow chainsaws?  Are you supposed to carve your meat to look like Mt Rushmore or a porterhouse?  


Zane may start off sleeping in his own bed, but at some point he ends up in our bed.  We usually don't even wake up when he climbs in bed, and I don't think that Zane is actually awake, either.  I think that eventually this behavior will go away, so we don't make a big deal about it.  Except for the other night, when he barfed in our bed.  We were both sound asleep when there was a loud "Bleargh!"  Larry and I jumped out of bed way faster than I knew we could move.  Larry went to get towels, I grabbed Zane, who hadn't made any other sound because he was still asleep!  What the heck?  How could you sleep through barfing if you're not intoxicated?  Good thing that he sleeps on his side or stomach!  We cleaned up as best as we could in the dark, threw some towels down under Zane, and just went back to bed.   The barfing happened two more times, but Zane didn't sleep through those events.  I guess that it was a good thing that he was in our bed--I don't know if we would have heard him in his room.  Yes, I'm looking at barf in my bed as a good thing.  No, I am not intoxicated.  Just sleep deprived.

I am over at Stacy's today, at Stacy Uncorked, so be sure to check her out!

Random Is, As Random Does

So, if the show is called "Finding" Bigfoot, doesn't that imply that they actually do find Bigfoot?  We've been watching this show for some time, and they have yet to find the elusive creature.  Lots of running around in the woods with cameras, but no actual critter.  Isn't that false advertising?  If nothing else, throw on a costume and wave at the camera!  

Last week, I announced that I would be participating in NaNoWriMo.  I even put up my little word counter in the sidebar.  See it over there? I should have just kept my mouth shut! Yeah, well...my computer, Hal Jr., died.  I think it heard me talking about NaNo, and it just couldn't take that kind of pressure.  I was upset, of course.  Then my husband said that I could use his computer.  Hooray!  I said.  Crisis averted!  I sat down in front of my husband's computer, ready to start typing.  You know what happened?  No, his computer didn't die.  It was his monitor.  Have you ever tried typing on a computer without being able to see what you're typing, or even where?  I don't recommend it. So anyway, now I am sneaking to various unattended computers or trying to type on my phone in order to keep up with my blog. I am still determined to participate in NaNoWriMo.  I just may have to resort to less technically challenged methods.  Last I checked, all of my pens are in working order.

I took Zane to see my nephew Tristan play soccer this weekend.  Tristan plays for an Olympic Development team these days, so we don't get to see him in town often.  It was nice to see him out there, except that I remember him when he was Zane's age, and he's almost an adult now.  I feel downright elderly!  It's nice to see all that hard work and practice has paid off for my nephew, since he has been eating and breathing soccer for most of his life. While I hope that Zane develops a lifelong love of soccer, I don't intend to be one of those parents who 'pushes'.  Except for good grades.  That I will be pushing for! 

My husband, who insisted on playing adult soccer this season, has been hobbled by his Achilles.  Both of them. I was worried about this happening before he even started, but his doctor said it was okay for him to play.  He came home on Sunday, almost crawling.  It was at that moment, watching him, that I realized that it might not have been a good idea to buy a two-story house, because Larry had tremendous difficulty getting up the stairs at all.  He spent all day Monday having MRIs and X-rays, and is getting around with a cane. 

So some of my relatives aren't talking to me now, after the election.  Several of my cousins are a bit overdramatic, and of course it was the end of the world because Obama won.  The reality is that who is president is not going to make that much of a difference in most people's day to day lives, and it is ridiculous to get all worked up about it. That's my opinion, anyway.  But I am okay with the silence if it means that I don't have to listen to the whining. 

I am hoping to visit Stacy over at Stacy Uncorked today, but if I don't make it, I hope that you will visit her and say hi for me!

So It's Tuesday...

Yes, it is Tuesday.  It's the day to VOTE.  I was able to go and vote last Thursday, which was a huge relief. I prefer not to leave such an important civic duty until the last possible minute.  I would rather not be forced to stand in an impossibly long, long, long line.  Those sorts of lines are only for Peter Jackson films, tickets to a concert, the largest roller coaster in the world, etc.  I hate waiting that much.  My husband was able to vote this time around, without any of the usual grief, thank goodness! 

I was on Facebook yesterday, and happened to look at the ads.  There was a "Lose Your Belly Fat With This One Weird Trick" ad...followed by an ad for Werther's candy.  Do you want me to lose weight, Facebook?  Then stop giving me mixed messages! 

After today, when the polls close, we can kiss all those horrible political ads goodbye. Hooray!  At least, someone can kiss them goodbye.  I'm not kissing any, because I don't know where those ads have been. There's been some pretty scary people buying ad time.  If you told me that the Mafia had a Super-PAC, I wouldn't even blink. I think that we should ban all political ads from the media, and the politicians should do like they used to do, which is get out and actually talk to people.  It worked for Abraham Lincoln, it should work for everyone else.  It's easier to take the measure of a candidate when they are ten feet away as opposed to in a little box in your entertainment center.

My fear of commitment has been on overdrive; as soon as I decided that I would sign up for NaNoWriMo, my brain came up with a kajillion reasons that I should not.  You don't have time, my brain said. You'll never make 50,000 words, it said. You'll put your eye out! it said.  I signed up anyway.  I'm going to at least attempt to do this, give it a good faith effort.  If I succeed, then yay me.  If I don't, then yay me.

Okay, if my church sent out a poster with this guy on it, I don't think I'd be lining up.  He looks rather scary, doesn't he?  I would hold my purse more closely if he showed up, I'm sad to say.  He's probably a very nice man, and he's obviously a church goer.  But his face does not increase my desire to attend this particular church.  I didn't really ever like Korn that much anyway, because my brain kept taking them to task for the glaring spelling error. Now, if Eric Clapton was touring churches, I'd be there, along with half the continent. But,hey, it's Clapton. 

I am visiting Stacy over at Stacy Uncorked today.  I hope that she has recovered sufficiently from the evil Hurricane Sandy.  Check her out!

Oh My Goodness! Random

My husband is a legacy Democrat. That means that his daddy was a Democrat, his grandfather was a Democrat, and so on. And because my husband is a legacy Democrat, there have been, shall we say, shenanigans when it comes to voting. I chalk it up to the Republicans here in Texas being up to no good(and when the Democrats are in charge, I imagine the same sort of trickery occurs). Twice when Larry has gone to vote, he has been turned away, for still being registered at our old house...even though we changed our address at the same time, on the same day, at the same place.  My change of address went through just fine--but I am an Independent. We shall see what happens this week, when we try for early voting.

At the last book fair, I found something...

I tried to get Zane interested, but he does not share my love of birdwatching.  At least not yet.  I am hopeful, though.  I plan on putting in some bird houses for the spring, but I will have to figure out a way to keep Zena the Warrior Cat from getting up into the trees.  Maybe some netting or something in the lower branches will freak her out and keep her feet on the ground.   

One day this month, Amazon had as their free app of the day a thing called Ghost Radar.  Intrigued, I downloaded it.  It is supposed to tell you if any 'activity' occurs in the vicinity of the phone, and it also detects words that are said, too.   I have run it a few times, in places that I 'know' are haunted, like the building where I work.  The words that are getting picked up are rather interesting, such as the name "Lincoln".  The oddest word that the Ghost Radar 'picked up', was "mill", because the street where the building is located is Mill street.  Other than that, Ghost Radar has been more novelty than anything else.  Halloween fun!

Speaking of Halloween fun...

I made this one day while I had a moment.  I know that I won't be able to wear it after this week, but I'm enjoying myself by wearing it while I can.  Those skulls look so cheerful with their little grins, which just tells me that I need to stop hitting the bead shows at the local convention center.

 

Tomorrow, Larry and Zane will go trick or treating dressed as Thor and Iron Man.  I will stay behind for the express purpose of handing out candy.  I feel that it is my duty as a homeowner to do this, plus I sort of enjoy seeing the kids walk up in their adorable little monster outfits or the cute princess costumes.  But it's a school night, so I hope that the trick or treaters trickle out by 9pm.  I know that part of the country will likely still be dealing with rain and maybe some snow from Hurricane Sandy, and I am a little sad that they will be missing out on the fun.  Perhaps there can be a postponement of the festivities for those children?  Maybe next Wednesday, when things have dried out?  Think of the candy--the children!

 

I am over visiting Stacy at Stacy Uncorked,  and she should be there, unless there's a power outage.  Which there may well be, because that is what usually happens when there's a hurricane down here.  I am not sure what happens on the East Coast.  But stop and see what's up, and send some positive thoughts her way, just in case!

Random Gratefulness

As my regular readers know, yesterday was one of those "bleah" days where you wake up with a gray rain cloud above your head, and it follows you all day.  Except in my case, I have my very own ray of sunshine, who chased that gray cloud away.   Yes, my dearest bloggy friend, Andrea, from over at Maybe It's Just Me, is one the most awesome people I know. She brightens everything, and is funny and witty, and I adore her!  I've never even seen her in person, but I know that we would be up to cookie-related shenanigans if we did.  Andrea not only sent me a very cheerful email on Sunday, she sent me what was probably the very best care package somebody like me could receive.  It was chock full of my favorite candy!!!  That's right--Twizzlers, Almond Joys, Bit O'Honey, to name a few.  Even gummi bears, the Haribo ones, that I always eat after separating them by color.  I was already feeling more cheerful after her email, but that package in the mail just blew right through my little rain cloud, and I am actually giggling over which piece of candy to eat first!  And when I say giggle, I don't mean in a Renfield-sort of way--it's true happiness.  Go visit Andrea and you will see what a wonderful person she is.  Thank you, Andrea!

This gentleman's name, on the back of his jersey, is SPAZ.  He and his teammates were playing Larry and his team in the adult soccer league.  I happened to be sitting on the orange team's side of the field, not to be disloyal, but because that side of the field has a tree big enough to sit under.  But if I hadn't sat underneath that tree, I would have missed seeing Mr. Spaz, and I would not have had a little laugh to myself.  You see, I just like saying the word.  The way the lips purse together right before you spit it out always strikes me as funny.  So thank you, Mr. Spaz.  (Oh and Larry's team pulled together to finish the game with a draw 3-3.)


On Saturday night, I heard what sounded like running water.  I made a circuit of the house, checking faucets and toilets, and the outside hoses.  Everything was off.  I said something to Larry about it, and he didn't hear what I heard, so we went to bed.  In the morning, when we stepped outside to get into our car, we found that our front yard had become lakefront property!  Turns out that we sprang a leak somewhere underneath the grass.  I was grouchy about this, since I knew that we would be seeing a water bill of epic proportions in our future, not to mention the cost of fixing the leak. My dream of doing my Christmas shopping early was looking impossible.  And then...Larry's mom knew a guy.  (Larry's mom is a talker, she is very friendly, and she just knows lots of people.)   This particular guy is a plumber, and long story short, he came over today while we were at work and fixed everything.  Thank you, Mr. Plumber, and thank you, Larry's mom. 

Last week, when I went to pay my bills online, I could not log in to the bill pay site. I knew that I had the correct password, because I have it written down in a secret spot in case I forget. I thought that perhaps I hit the wrong key or something. I tried so many times that I got locked out!  Because I was tired, I perhaps got a little hysterical, thinking that my long run of paying my bills on time was history.  I called the bank and told them my tale of woe, and the guy asked for my account number, and my address, and my date of birth, and the name of my first born son.  Then he asked me for my secret word.  Secret word?  Yes, he said.  The secret word.  The one that you entered when  you first joined the bill pay site.  There was a secret word?  I said this in disbelief, because I joined this bill pay site almost ten years ago.  I've slept since then.  And they tell you never to write stuff down because someone could break into your house and then they learn that your password is 'Rosebud' and it's all over.  I was about to get hysterical again, when the bank person took pity on me and told me that he would reset my password and send me the code to log in.  Thank you, bank person, for taking pity on my poor memory skills.  I feel much better when my bills are paid, even if it means that my balance lowers.

And I am so very grateful to Stacy over at Stacy Uncorked, because she is always cheerful and sunny and she can change topics at the drop of a dime.  Plus she has wine, which always makes life a little  smoother around the edges. Go visit her!

Random

Am I the only person who speaks to random wildlife?  I opened the door last night to call for Zena, spotted a raccoon in the bird seed, and all I said was "Hello, Mr. Racoon! How are you on this fine evening?"  I also routinely speak to squirrels, cats, possum, and a random skunk or two, even if it is just to say 'Hi!"  My neighbors must think that I am completely nuts.  That may not be a completely horrible thing.  If your neighbors think you are insane, they will be less likely to borrow your lawn mower and not return it. 

My husband's new school is wayyyyyy out in the boonies. As in, cow pastures as far as the eye can see.  Driving out there, down a two-lane road, Larry and I see lots of things that we never see in the city.  Like this bird, the Kara Kara:

Source: flickr.com via Tina on Pinterest

 I didn't even know these birds existed, but I saw one two days in a row on that country road, and I consider that pretty awesome. I've also seen hawks, turtles, cows, horses, donkeys, goats, and turkey buzzards.  It's a regular menagerie out there in the country. Except deer.  I have yet to see any deer out there, because they all seem to live in the city.  There are probably more deer within the city limits of New Braunfels than actual people.  Maybe they like the polka music they play at the Wurstfest. 

My son wants a dog for his birthday this Friday.  He wants a black dog.  Who is big.  Who is small.  Who is a puppy.  But who gets big.  We've talked about getting a dog, but not the particulars. There's quite a bit up for negotiations. A dog is a lot of responsibility for a boy, even if he will be five soon.  I don't know if he is ready for that responsibility.  After all, he doesn't even wipe his own rear end by himself yet. 

The Walking Dead just started it's third season, with a bang, I might add.  Of course, there's some huge questions as to the zombie apocalypse(all those corpses and nary a feasting bug?), but since the main point of the show is not that there are zombies, I'm cool.  I still wonder how we would handle an 'end of the world' scenario.  We would be fine for a week or so, then we would run out of toilet paper, and it would be catastrophe time.
 

Source: s3.amazonaws.com via Tina on Pinterest

I am over visiting the excellent Stacy at Stacy's Uncorked, checking out her wine list. Go visit!

Rascally Random

I woke up this morning and went downstairs to feed the outside cats.  Okay, I actually went downstairs and started the coffee first.  Then I went to the door and looked outside.  On the patio was the fattest raccoon I've ever seen.  He was sprawled out next to the empty food bowl, just like he'd been on a bender.  The outdoor cats were no where to be found, and for a moment I was concerned that the raccoon might have eaten them, as fat as he was.  I rapped loudly on the window to get the raccoon's attention, and waited for him to get the message and waddle off.  I wonder what we would see if we put a camera on the patio to run all night. 

My boss asked if I would like to work from home a couple of days a month.  It seems that the grand plan to give every 9th grader an iPad to use did not factor in the massive use of network bandwidth.  To put it bluntly, during the day, when all those wonderful iPads are being used(all the textbooks are on them), our district connections runs at the speed of dial-up.  When I am at home, I don't have to contend with all that, so everything runs faster.  So maybe I will work at home, at least once.  My challenge will be not getting distracted by random Lolcats or spending all day on Pinterest.   Because I am all about distractions when I have to work, sad to say.

Cats are predators. They are actually the most successful predators on the planet, with something like a 97% kill rate.  I thought about that the other day when we found some remains in the driveway.  I just read an article online today that says cats may be killing way more than we know, because they sometimes don't eat what they kill, but scatter the body parts hither and yon as they scamper back home. On the other hand, we do not have scorpions, or mice, or snakes within at least a fifty foot radius of this house.  I think we can learn a valuable lesson from all this: Animals may act domesticated, but don't piss them off.

We were all parked in the living room last night, crashing after a long day, when we hear two sounds, like something striking out window.  We began to investigate, and found a hole in the outside glass of our double paned windows.  We immediately suspected the house behind us.  Nefarious things happen at that house, and most of the time right in the back yard where we can see it, because the people who live in that house aren't really all that bright.   Fortunately, the police said that the window was not hit by a BB or rock.  Do double paned windows just suddenly decide to crack at random intervals?   Maybe it was a body part flung by a cat?  I guess this means that we will be investing in new windows soon.  I'd like to get some with some of that solar film on it. 

I am over visiting at Stacy's Uncorked, because she's awesome and has some cool looking new appliances. Go visit her and have a great day!

Rainy Random

Remember how I was complaining that we were in a drought and we needed rain?  My prayers were answered--we've had about ten inches in the past month.  Luckily, there's been periods of sunlight in between, so the rains gets to soak into the ground a bit.  The grass/weeds in the backyard have shot up about a foot, because by the time things have dried out enough to mow, it rains again.  I only hope that the lakes around here are filling up.  I hope that the aquifer, which supplies all of our drinking water in these parts, is filling up too.  

I was looking forward to the debates this month, but now I don't even know if I'm going to watch.  This past week, all I've heard from the Romney camp is extremely lowered expectations, like their candidate can't walk and chew gum at the same time. Seems to me that the GOP spends more time making excuses for the candidate that they chose than anything else. Even the VP candidate has been heard making statements like "Oh well, the race won't be decided by one debate".  I hate to break it to Paul "I totally slept through history class" Ryan, but Nixon lost to Kennedy on the basis of one debate, Carter lost to Reagan on the basis of one debate...shall I go on?  All these people want to play the Game of Thrones, and most are sadly unprepared. I'd like some "learned" politicians, please!

This tree is my nemesis.  This tree, and all it's siblings, cousins, aunts and uncles, are going to be throwing out pollen in about a month or so, wreaking all sorts of havoc on immune systems.  I will probably go through a bucket of inhalers, and completely lose my voice again.  Mountain cedar is pure evil.  I can't even touch the sap without breaking out in hives! 

Speaking of Game of Thrones, when is Martin going to publish the next book in the series?  It was supposedly "mostly" written before the last book came out.  Of course, knowing Martin, he likely threw the whole thing out and started over from scratch.  I hate that, because I hate waiting, except that I know that it's his obsessive attention to detail that makes his writing so awesome.  I'll wait, but I may whine about it.  Who am I kidding?  Of COURSE I will whine about it!  Because that just makes authors write so much faster! 

I am sitting here typing, and my cat Pounce is staring at me.  She is right next to the monitor, so she is really difficult to ignore. Normally, it wouldn't bother me, but she has the BIG EYES, like there is something very scary behind my shoulder.  I am determined not to look, but it's starting to creep me out.  What if there is actually something scary behind me?  Animals are sensitive to these things, right?  Sheesh, now I am freaking myself out! 

I am hooking up with the awesome Stacy over at Stacy's Uncorked. Go visit her and meet some new people!

Post-Holiday Random

So soon after we start a new schedule with school, my son got TWO days off!  His teachers had staff development on Friday, so the boy spent the day partying with his grandparents, and the Labor Day holiday gave him even more of a chance to forget about routines.  This morning had all of us bleary-eyed.

This is the week of the Democratic National Convention.  The Mayor of San Antonio, Julian Castro, is speaking, and the entire city is very proud.  Mayor Castro has certainly been a calming influence on the usual seething cauldron of politics that passes for the City Council.  He is always mild-mannered and reasonable, and San Antonio is slowly joining the 21st century as a result of his policies.  I hope that the nation's Democrats love him as much as we do. 

The last time we visited a bookstore, it was just a quick trip so Larry could look for some soccer magazines.  I took Zane into the kid's section, and in three minutes flat, he had accumulated a nice sized pile of books.  Funny, that's exactly what happens whenever I enter a bookstore:  all of the books just jump off the shelf and attach themselves to my hands.  At least that is what I tell my husband. 

Please? I really, really NEED all these books, even though I can't read any of them yet!

I am not a big fan of  what is called "Chick-Lit", so I don't read a lot of those books.  I view those books like the telenovelas(the closest equivalent=soap operas)  that are popular on the Spanish stations. But I decided that I can't 'hate' on Nicholas Sparks and not read at least one of his books.  Maybe all those horridly drippy movies were some director's interpretation rather than the author's.  Stephen King has complained enough about how his books were mangled by the director, and he's credible.  In order to be fair and balanced,  I decided to read The Lucky One.  So far, I am rooting for the dog, hoping that he gets to bite someone on the butt at least once.  Probably not what most people do, but it's a German Shepherd.  I wouldn't mind having a German Shepherd, except that it would probably eat my cats, and I'm attached to them.

Last night, my husband left to go to a meeting about...soccer.  My son was coloring with markers, and before he walked out of the house, I distinctly heard Larry tell his son NOT to color on his skin with the markers.  I was in the other room.  Okay, I was in the bathroom.  My point is that I was not in a position to monitor my son's behavior closely.  When I came out of the bathroom, my son was standing in front of me in his underpants.  He was grinning ear to ear, which is NEVER a good sign in my house.  He turned around; he had colored all over his back with magic marker!  He tried to blame it on his imaginary brother(who is named Copy, by the way); I was having none of that.

"Didn't your father specifically tell you NOT to color on yourself with markers?" I asked him in my most exasperated tone.  

"Yes." The boy was unrepentant.  With a heavy sigh, I started up the stairs to fill the tub with water.  Once I got upstairs, when I was sure Zane wasn't listening, I giggled.  After all, not many kids would have thought about drawing on their own back, let alone doing such a good job of it.  Not many kids would have the 'gumption' to blame things on their imaginary sibling, either.  Of course, when his father returned home, Zane told him that the markers coloring his back was "an accident".  It's all about plausible deniability, you see.  I am starting to worry that we have a budding politician in the house!

 I am hooking up with Stacy this week at Stacy's Uncorked, and with Seriously Shawn and Impulsive Addict over at Talk To Us Tuesdays. Check them out!