July 2006 - Posts
We have a really cool little orb weaver spider on our back porch. Every night, at 7 p.m. the little dude builds a fresh web. It takes it an hour. More entertaining than cable. It drops down huge strands, and then builds cross strands and then spends an hour going in smaller and smaller spiral circles. Then, it goes to the center of its web, rips out a hole and sits there and waits. It's between the size of a nickle and a quarter in diameter with its legs. Zule, Sweatone and I go watch it and then when moths get close to the web we cheer for the spider, but so far, we've not seen any moth death. We were confused what kept knocking down the web, b/c the little guy rebuilt it every night. Well, this morning, when I actually got up early, I had our answer. It destroys the web, rolling the entire thing up like a sleeping bag and drops it to the ground before climbing into a little brown nest. Apparently, its nocturnal. Its really really cool. I want to take some pictures of it, but I don't think my camera has a high enough resolution. In addition, I shall have to tell my relatives not to just kill the thing. I'm not one to step on bugs even. And if I see a turtle stranded in the road, I'll get out and tap it on its shell so it pulls in its head and then I'll scoot it across the road.
I have to keep Sweatone from knocking down the web. Let me tell you something else I did not know until I had kids and it blew me away. When my alpha test kid came along, Dbot, I was horrified that she would kick and jump on our pet rabbit, pull dogs' ears, or otherwise pester and harrass animals. She would hit people and bite them. Now, ten years later, beta test Sweatone would love nothing more than to jump on a bug, put vaseline in the cat's fur, or generally smash things. Apparently, humans are NOT born with any type of empathy. You have to teach them. And apparently, if you don't teach kids empathy by a certain age, they never learn it. How weird is that? I always thought that empathy was like a feeling or something. My toddler has no idea if he steps on the spider it will die, he just would be like "I squish spider, now make it work again". He grabs fistfuls of fireflies, and kind of squishes them sometimes, and gets really upset that they won't fly. Meanwhile, I'm flipping out, yelling "Sweatone, GENTLE HANDS WITH THE FIREFLIES". I think humans are just inquisitive, but without empathy, that curiosity must translate to cruelty in some instances.
I took my son to ear xtacy and he loved it! I rarely buy cd's. Shhhh.
But, my friend Scott had recommended the new Coup album. And I wanted another copy of Fleetwood Mac's "The Dance".
Buy this album. You will not be disappointed.
http://www.epitaph.com/artists/artist/160/
Well actually, humans are getting huge everywhere.
http://www.nytimes.com/2006/07/30/health/30age.html?_r=1&ei=5094&en=a8f44bc2e9318699&hp=&ex=1154232000&partner=homepage&pagewanted=print&oref=slogin
Actually, this phenom has been documented for a long time in History circles. Its informally called the coffin effect. It is highly unlikely that even I could fit in a man's coffin from the nineteenth century. They were tiny creatures. For those of you who know me, I'm considered "short". I'm actually average height at 5'4" inches tall. That was the average grown man's size in the nineteenth century.
Its always been a dream of mine to help on a archaelogical dig at an osuary. Basically, they take volunteers and have them measure bone sizes and from that, archeaologists extrapolate the health of the population.
I'm really tired out. Its not like physical or mental fatigue, just a vague feeling of "tired". I think it stems from my boyfriend I am dumping, Mr. Law Review. Law review is this thing that they have at law schools, whereby they take the pool of candidates, take the people with the top grades, charge them money and make their lives miserable for a year and if you do okay, they give you one hour credit. Then, if you have really killed yourself, then, maybe just maybe, you can make notes editor, or voila, you can be an editor-in-chief and be even more miserable for yet another year. See, the silly thing is, the legal profession puts great importance on the most mediocre of things. The truth is, no one really reads law review or cares about it. Its total vanity publishing for the most part. If a student is very lucky, one can write on an obscure and emerging topic and then, "BAM" a judge cites you and you are important in your own mind. But mostly students go through the whole process and are not published, b/c lets face it, who really cares what a law student thinks? Or even a law professor for that matter.
I'm "on law review". That's how you say it. "On law review". But I, for my thirty-first birthday next week, am going to give myself the best present ever. I'm dumping it. I don't care about it, and really at this point in my life, I need to feel passionate about the things I'm doing. I don't want anything distracting me from that which I love. Namely, my family (e.g. my husband, kids and extended family and fictive kin network), painting pictures badly, travelling, working out, and making my friends laugh.
I'm not really an introspective person. So, I was curious why I was spending so much time online instead of working on my note topic, b/c I realized, I was spending a lot of time online. Its not like I was leaving my baby in the bathtub so I could be on message boards or anything, but it still seemed excessive to me. So I asked myself, "what is it that you want?" I realized I'd rather distract myself than deal with the fact that I really really dislike law school. In fact, I came to the realization that I don't want to do one more thing than absolutely necessary to get my degree, and hopefully get through "character and fitness" (the committee that decides if you have the moral fiber to be a lawyer based on your to then existence on earth, and in my case this may be a sticking point) and pass the bar. Then hopefully, I can get a nice quiet job in the public sector so that the Kentucky Higher Education Authority will take the principal off my substantial student loans for five years of indentured servitude and I can get good benefits.
Once I made this decision, it was like a huge weight lifted from me, but I feel tired. I think because my entire life I've always wanted to be the very best girl. I have stellar grades and my personality is to try to do everything the right way so that others will approve of me. Everyone knows, if you want to get ahead, you should be on law review. Plus, my fellow students will think I'm insane for actually "getting on law review" (believe it or not its competetive to be on law review) and then resigning. Its not some sort of drama. Its just I really prefer to do other things with my time. Like have time to laugh at things or figure out why on earth I give such credence to other people's opinions of me. Really, I secretely suspect my colleagues just may respect me for standing up for myself and telling Law Review to go away.
You answered 9 questions correctly out of 10. If you scored a perfect
10, you're giving Dr. Ruth a run for her money. Eight or better and you
can call yourself an expert. Seven or less? Practice!
http://www.livescience.com/php/trivia/index.php?quiz=sex
Not the L&N Railroad, or the L&N train store, which rocks balls. But, the L&N Restaurant. See, Wednesday Night is Zule and my date night. We are old, so we just go out to dinner together. Then we go home and watch a movie and then have relations. (I know, tmi, sorry). Anyhoo, I find an ad in the LEO for this L&N place. I'd heard great things about it. So, Zule and I walk in and have the most miserable dining experience of our lives, except this one fucked up dining adventure in Italy. Anyway, here is a litany of my bitchy complaints.
1) a dead fly in the window. Zule almost walked out then, but he wanted me to be happy, so he did not comment on it.
2) horrible food. We had four courses, an appetizer, a salad course, a main course and a desert. All of them were fusion suck. I could not even eat my main course, b/c it tasted AWFUL! Yes, we get it, you are trying to be different, but please, fuse shit together that is palatable and blends together. The last I checked melted provolone over cold beans and mushrooms does not blend.
3) outrageous pricing. Really, I don't mind spending a lot of money on good food. However, if the food is pretentious and bad, I will object to a total of $125.00 for two people's food. (I think 15 dollars of that was for two beers Dave had, and two dollars for a coffee I had, so it was not like we drank dinner).
4) In separate incidents, both Zule and I were walked in on in the bathroom by clueless servers.
5) Service was continentally slow. Not European style continental service, which I can take, but literally fucking continents have drifted more quickly than our food came.
By the end, we were insane with hunger and rage. I literally thought the kitchen staff was practicing fencing in the parking lot when I went outside to smoke and at least found that entertaining, but they werent. I should really really wear my glasses.
Last night, I was getting ready to go over to my friends' house, and I was playing trains with my son. I then got completely lazy to do anything or go anywhere, b/c playing trains was about the most fun thing ever. He's so funny. He's all up in the Cars phenomena. So, he was "witnening mickeeen" which is how he says "Lightening McQueen" and I had to be the Larry the Cable Guy character, Mater. (I never get to be the racecar!)
The game we played was in his words "Mater and wightening mickween bestfriends hopaloaf".
No one really knows what hopaloaf means. Its a word he made up. It is some sort of game where you stand on one foot, hop, and hold your fingers up like horns on either side of your head. I of course, being mater, also had to stick my front teeth out and talk in a hick accent and pretend to be a tow truck. I was glad at the time there was no camera, but in a few years, I will wish that we had taped the whole thing. (I say taped, but I mean "put on our digital camcorder"). Then, we had fun playing a puppet show, and then he fell asleep in my arms.
And on the daughter front, my kid rules AIM. I asked her on aim what she thought of people who wear cellphones on her head, and literally the response was immediate "Retards." She kills me! She is really really funny. I told her she killed me meaning she was too funny, and then she started typing in the lyrics to "Danny Boy."
Sometimes, being a parent is the most wonderful feeling in the world. And I have to say, my kids are awesome.
So Zule and I have our own company, but its not retail oriented, its just on the internet. Its not porn or anything, so don't be fronting. Anyhow, last Friday, Zule and his business partner went to go eat. Then I get this funny call from a man named "brochure" who is "downstairs waiting for me". I'm convinced that he is a prankster, but he was not. I made Zule call him from offsite on his cell and tell him to go away. I was freaked out. I was not ready for my public.
Okay, so I had made this long post about my views on the Lebanese and Israeli conflict, but then I realized, I was really just trying to say the following: I feel really bad for people on both sides of this conflict. I doubt there will be a peaceful resolution. I find it ironic that both participants to date are democracies.
In a side note, the whole concept of "democracy" means a different thing to the average US citizen and those of other democracies. We have a wierd system. We do not vote for a tiered parliament, which then based on proportions of votes garnered therein elects a cabinet and then a prime minister and a president. Instead, we use the spoils system and a direct election of the president and our congressional members with a rubber stamp electoral college for the presidency. (The electoral college was supposed to be its own decision making body, now of course the electoral college rubber stamps which way a state went under the two party system). It makes our government really strong, but it leads to a two party system. As long as the majority of the United States electorate tends toward the moderate middle, the government is much more stable here than in a parliamentary system. And with stability, comes long-term power. It would be interesting to see if our mode of democracy would work in other places. I doubt it would.
And in a final note, I am curious if a democratic government has ever flourished in a place without a large middle class. I shall have to research this and see.
Deranged shit goes on at my house I tell you. Last night, my son got a hold of the cat and some vaseline. It was gnarly.
Here's a wierd link to some wierd human tail stuff.
http://www.dimaggio.org/Archive/tails_in_humans.htm
So, we took my nephew and my son to the Georgetown drive-in to see Pirates of the Carribbean. Over all, fun movie. Of course, I heart Johnny Depp. Its funny, my daughter and I agree on little, but the fact that Jack Sparrow is the hottest character ever, that's agreed. Zule was laughing at us in the Pirates ride at Disneyworld, b/c Disney redid the ride to make Jack Sparrow the main character of the ride. I say, good call. Good call indeed.
Anyway, at the Drive-in, I used these Cutter wipe bug spray things to keep mosquitoes at bay. It dissolved my nail polish for some reason, which was ominious. My nephew, who is 7, and my son, who is 3, each got a glow in the dark necklace as a present from me. They like them, and it is easier to spot them in the dark. (Shh, they have no idea I have an ulterior motive in giving them to them). Any way, my nephew broke his and got glow juice all over himself. I have no idea what that is going to do to him. By 1, we were all back home.
I hope Dbot is doing well in Atlanta. I feel stupid, b/c some how despite my best shopping efforts over the last month, she ended up having only one pair of shoes, and they did not fit right. So she looked all Kentucky up in there. Mind you, the shoes were 75 bucks. So, I may steal them when she gets home. Its impossible to shop for twelve-year olds. Either the outfits are cutesy little girl outfits or Paris Hilton Slut In Training looking.
Really, I face the same clothing issues at 30. Either the clothes are for 22 year olds with fake tits, or matrons. I still can't find any shorts that wont embarass my children in public.
I will be 31 on the 1st of August. I expect that is the cutoff for my shopping in the juniors department.
It took us three days to drive down to Orlando. We rented a pimping minivan. On the way down, the kids were pretty good. On the second night, we stayed right inside the Florida border, and we went to the pool with the kids in the evening to go swimming. There was a bar right next to the pool, and there were a bunch of drunk rednecks who were shouting the F word. I have been known to shout the F word, and quite frequently, but not usually around swimming children.
The next day, Sunday, we got to our hotel. Disney's Pop Century Resort. We went swimming and took the kids to the Polynesian Resort for dinner.
Disney tip: Buy the meal plan. Its worth it. Its thirty dollars per person per day. At the Polynesian, Sweatone freaked out, so I took him around on the monorail with Zule and Dbot ate. We all went to the hotel, and crashed.
Monday, we got up chilled out, and went to the theme park. The ride lines were not that long. For dinner, we ate at the Crystal Palace, with Pooh and Tigger. It was really surreal. It kind of freaked me out. Plushie alert! I always picture the people inside of the costumes as slavering wierdos. But, the kids appeared to like it. Disneyworld is so surreal. There was a woman at the buffet that literally frightened my kids with her size.
Tuesday, we went to the park in the evening, and Sweatone went on his first roller coaster!
We watched the fireworks, and it was really beautiful.
Wednesday, we visited with my family, and my uncle was showing us pictures on his HDTV, and one of my auntie in a bikini popped up. American Flag bikini. Too funny.
Now we are home.
Yay! I expect to be hot and cranky during this trip.
We have a double screen dvd player to keep the kids tranked and a mini-van for the week.
Watch out Orlando-bitches, Kentucky is on its way!
On a side note, I packed this incredibly dorky tee shirt for Zule that he has of a jockey on a horse that he got as a joke gift one year. I hope he wears it to the theme park. I'm not kidding. People flip out when they realize Kentucky actually exists.
They think its a myth, like Montana.
There is one holiday my neighborhood takes completely seriously. That is the Fourth of July. We have an enormous block party, and I had invited my inlaws over, and my neighbors over to set off fireworks. Anyway, the day begins every year with a little parade that the kids put on by decorating their bikes, strollers, etc., and its lead by a police cruiser and typically, the St. Matthews hook-and-ladder fire engine. This fire engine is an integral part of the parade. Not to make fun of our City's officers, but truly, they pull the hook-and-ladder out when there are cats stuck in trees, b/c our City has very little true dramatic shit for the police and fire fighters to do. So, they lead our parade. Any how, the parade starts. Massive drama, there was an actual car fire and the fire truck was not there! All the parents were confused, including me, b/c we feel that our city taxes in part go directly to ensuring that the fire truck leads the parade. In fact, that's about the only time we see the police or fire fighters, b/c our City is really boring.
Anyway, then there was a prayer. Zule and I always forget there is a prayer, so we just kind of faked it. Then, there was the parade! At the end of the circuit, we all end up at the Train Man's house on the adjoining street. O happy day, the fire truck was there! Remember, I live in a Norman Rockwell painting.
Then, later, we grilled out, and shot off a ton of fireworks. Zule lost his mind with the fireworks. At one point, he was using our chiminea to launch fireworks, and we blew up a Santa doll. The kids were loving it. Unfortunately, the fraternity brothers of one of our neighbors did not. At 11:30 p.m., I went in to check on the kids, and while I was in the bathroom, my mother-in-law came and got me. She said "Um, your husband is in a fight outside. Come here". Okay, I thought this was a total joke and started laughing. I go outside. There was an altercation! In St. Matthews! This is the best transcript of the incident I can compile, as I was not there for most of it. I was inside moving watermelon into my own tupperware so my mom in law could take her tupperware home.
Characters: A random Dude, his girlfriend, Zule, my mom in law, my dad in law.
Dude: I can't believe you got this firework debris on my girlfriend's car!
Zule: Collateral damage, dude. (joke, but not taken as joke).
Dude: I can't believe you got crap all over my girlfriend's car!
Zule: Okay, fine. Its the Fourth of July. No car has been left untouched.
Dude: Do you want a piece of me! (in Zule's face).
Zule (trying not to laugh, but not backing down either): Um, not really. Look Dude, I'll give you five bucks, you can get your car all cleaned up.
Dude: I work in IT, and my girlfriend is a CPA! We make money, we don't need your money!
Zule (trying not to beat the shite out of the guy, and trying not to laugh): Yeah, IT got it. (Zule is a programmer) Well, my wife is a lawyer! (i'm not, i'm a law student. Don't tell the bar).
Dude backs down and they get it all worked out.
I feel really sorry for that Dude man, my mom-in-law was ready to jump in, and she would kill.
Okay, so after I dropped DBot off at judo, I went to go wash my car. It was really dirty, due to the fact that a) I'm a slob and b) some dude gave me a venti coffee with cream the other day at the Starbucks drive through and the lid was not on and I spilled the entire thing in my car. In the 100 degree heat, it now was odious.
I take it through the exterior washing part at the car wash, rendering it cleanish. Then, since the car wash only has three vacuums, I pulled in the only one available which was behind some dude in a truck who has an apparent jihad against the middle class. I had pulled up fairly close initially, but then I saw that he was dragging some sort of large floor mat type thing out of the bed of his truck, which I assume is something called a "bed liner", which I'd seen referenced in print but never in reality. Then, he plunked it right down next to my clean SUV and made motions with the sprayer as if he were going to spray the filfth of it onto my car. So then, I stuck my head out, and said "Um, am I in your way? B/c I'll back up a little, there's only three vacuums". He said "Youre not in my way as long as you don't mind getting mud on your car". Okay, so I think this is a joke. I back up, as much as I can, considering I'm trying to FUCKING VACUUM WITH THE VACUUM. Anyway, I commence vacuuming my car. I engaged strata of fries and pop tarts that should not be. When I get done, I drive away happily. When I get home, I realize, the fucker was not kidding, he sprayed fucking mud all over my clean car! I would NOT care typically, but its just the context. I just washed my car.
I must be losing my looks. This would have never happened to me at 22.
And in closing fucker, if I find out who you were, I'm going to peel your NASCAR stickers off your truck and piss on them.
Thank you.
My mother and law and I were at Caeser's with my husband and her husband. We were all at this wierd like gala thing for hard core gamblers. But anyway, during the gala thing, I tell Zule "This is frigging surreal". They had a cover band and free food and free drinks and this guy dressed up like Julius Caeser and a woman dressed like Cleopatra, who gave out door prizes. I told Zule it reminded me exactly of a wedding reception where you don't really know anyone. What I did not say, is that it reminded me more of a wedding reception where someone's on their second or third wife and no one's taking it seriously and kind of resentful they had to buy a present. That was the mood in there.
Then as we were leaving I was leaning against a pillar. (Its all roman looking up in there) and smoking a cigarette. Zule's mom, who happens to be probably, one of my BEST FRIENDS, of all time, looks over at me and says "Gee, you know what you remind me of dressed in a skirt with heels and leaning against a pillar smoking?"
Apparently, a whore. I think she was being serious, but in a non mean primarily observational way. More like when you see someone that looks exactly like Kevin Spacey and you say to them "Hey, you look like Kevin Spacey".
I of course find the whole statement incredibly amusing, but I'm determined to punk her about it at Christmas.