Words from the burbs

Okay, so Zule and I are in the  process of getting things completely organized in our house. So, we decided to have a huge garage sale. HUGE! Cubic tons of stuff. But God hated our garage sale, probably, (if you asked my neighbors) because we are liberals as shown by our Yarmuth! yardsign.

First off, I wanted to lay out the stuff last night. I did not go to the trolley hop with my sister (who I've not seen in forever), and Dbot got to go instead. I carefully lay down tarps.. I organize the clothes. Zule walks up. "Honey its going to rain". GREAT! We get it back in the garage as best as possible, but (spoiler, this will figure prominantly later in the story) about five or ten items of clothing got wet.

We wake up at 6:30. Things go well until 9:30 when the police blocked off our neighborhood for some sort of marathon. Anyway, we made a few more sales after that. Including a sale of my champagne flutes to a lovely woman of color. (I did not know the following until ten minutes after it happened). Zule was the money man, so he was giving her change. My three year old points at her and says "Daddy, she's black". Zule is like "um, yeah". And Sweatone says (as clear as day) while pointing "I don't like black people". Zule's jaw dropped. The lady heard sweatone and must think she just bought KKK champagne flutes used to toast cross burnings or something.

The truth is, Zule and I are completely not racist, despite BAAL's constant harrassment of me in this blog calling me a racist. I'm not. Neither is Zule. Zule wanted to crawl into the earth after the statement and die. Jesus. Zule told Seaton he'd better not say anything like that again or he gets a time out.

So we sell our sectional couch. That was our main goal. So Zule and I call it quits. What we do every garage sale is the following: we have the garage sale, and the rule is, nothing can come back into the house. We take it to goodwill. I mean we were selling designer kids clothes 5 items to the dollar, and we still had two truckload (literally) of kids and adult clothes in great condition. My son's baby clothes etc. Any way, Zule takes the first truckload over to Goodwill. (there were two truckloads). The fair market value of the stuff was probably close to 1000 dollars, even at two dollars a pop, picture Hillfiger, Gap, etc.. We see that the rain is going to begin again, so in fairness to Goodwill we RUSH the first truckload over the goodwill. (the truck bed was a trifle damp so Zule put a tarp down first). When Zule showed up at goodwill, the woman at the donation center on Shelbyville Road, named Jackie, asked Zule "Are the clothes wet?" Zule says "No". She reaches in and apparently touched one of the five or ten actually damp items that we'd forgotten about (we just rolled everthing up in tarps and put it on the truckbed). She says "They're all wet we cant take this". Mind you, they were not. Included were 150 dollar roller skates Sketchers, etc, that Zule pointed out to her. No deal. Zule points out she's a lazy bitch and left.  I am going to take this up with Goodwill, b/c I'm fucking mad, that's why.

I went through KFC the other day (the drive through) and when we drove up, we got a voice mail. Seriously, like there was this voice that came out of the speaker and told us a commercial but it was prerecorded. It was odd. Apparently I don't get out much.

I have to admit my three year old makes the most adorable spider man, in the world. His little coustume has a mask and muscles sewn in.  When he first put it on, he grabbed the pectoral muscles that are sewn in and said "they look like boobies". He' s running around right now flexing up and destroying crime in our living room.

Dbot is going through a book on halloween decorations, which I expect we shall work on Saturday, during our garage sale.

Its raining cats and dogs outside.

Besides being a student and a mom and Zule's unpaid admin, I also teach senior high religious education.  Today, no senior high kids showed up, but I had a few refugees from the middle school program and a tiny squirrel that fell out of a tree during our awful storms yesterday. One of the kids in my class is in 7th grade, and is a little skater kid and goes to a private school his parents pay 15K a year for. He always has awful stories during check-in time, b/c many of his friends are killed in skateboarding accidents, apparently. Also, about four months ago, he set himself on fire, and ended up in the hospital for a week, so I'm always a bit leery of letting him light the chalice candle at the beginning of class. But he was very tender with the baby squirrel and we finally found someone in the congregation who was a certified squirrel caretaker person. The squirrel was super cute. It did not like being set down and wanted to be held the entire time.

I got a new umbrella today and I managed to nearly decapitate my right pointer finger retracting the piece of shit. It hurt like a bitch.  Of course, we have no bandaids, so I have it wrapped up with tape. For some reason my kids are listening to Motley Crue song "Shout at the Devil" right now.

 

Today in Evidence class some girl got called on, and not only had not read the case, she fudged her way along so badly that it caused my professor to make some ghetto-ass face that perfectly said "WTF". So, I busted out laughing at my professor, who would never care about something like that. But, here's where I suck. Everyone thought I was laughing at the chick who did not understand the sixth amendment. At least three friends have commented. As in, "just b/c you are a lawbot, and get Evidence, you should not laugh at people who don't" O well, I was not laughing at her. As my daughter pointed out, what is the worst that will happen. Dbot is hilarious, she was like "mom, that girl is not going to ask you to the  high school dance".

My father in law is ripping out our basement so we can put in new rooms. I think its rather awesome, considering my knowledge of construction is constrained to watching Bob the Builder and knowing the difference between a phillips head and a flat head screwdriver. Supposedly there is some hole in the concrete, but zule and I are nonplussed about it.  In the meanwhile, Zule and I are trying to get ready for a garage sale so that we can sell all our duplicate and otherwise unwanted crap. What can I say, I read Organizing for Dummies and took it to heart. I'm not an organized person by nature, I have to really think about stuff like that. Other than that, things have been quiet.

I just found my high school report card.

I got an A in History of the Americas, an A in "math anaylysis" which was math for dummies, a B in physics, an A in Engilish, a B in French and an A in computer programming basic (which I never attended).

Too funny. Too funny.

 

Apparently, a man with the same name as my man and the same former employer died. Louisville is up on the consipiracy, so all night, we've been fielding calls explaining that Xule is not dead.

In a way its funny, for the man whose actually dead, not so.

I've done it. I now have mom hair. I actually like it. Gone is the wayward mass of post  metal waves that was my signature. In its place, I have a shoulder length helmet of straight ironed goodness. I feel soccerish!

Seriously, over the next three weeks I'm determined to find a job as a lawyer/clerk. I need to look the part.

I now have my daughter singing Chamillionaire's Riding Dirty as my cell phone message. For some reason, the phrase "riding dirty" has me in hysterics. I shall have to remember to change it back before I give out my cell number to any prospective legal employers.

Dbot has a profile on this kids site called www.clubpenguin.com 

Last nite, I was watching her interact with the other users on the site, and man is she mean! She walked into this one "room" where some kid had taken a whole bunch of virtual items and spelled the word out of "FUCK". I did not even catch it, but Dbot was like "look mom!"

Then this other kid was like "I'm reporting you"

Dbot was like "I'm reporting your mom".

Other kid "why?"

Dbot: "For having you as a kid".

Too funny.

After two years of avoiding spoilers as to the person who died, avoiding all conversations about the book, encasing my young Potterhead daughter in a cone of virtual silence over the book, after a four day reading binge, I've finished Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince.

Now, I'm irritated the next book is not out yet.