I just read that Julia appears to be pregnant with twins. I am holding my breath with anxiety: Twice as many things that can go wrong. Twice as many miscarriages that might happen. Twice as many babies might die.
I keep reading her because her writing is so lovely. She is like a wonderful secret that the publishing world hasn't discovered yet, my very own Lorrie Moore.
And yet, she makes me anxious. I want to drive to Minnesota and slap her. I am so glad that she is pregnant, but if she loses them and if she does this again, I will do it. I will drive up there and slap her.
I said that last time too. And the time before that.
But twins.
5/26/2007
5/25/2007
We were walking home from the Kum & Go tonight and I was smoking a cigarette. But I started to feel breathless, so even though I hadn't smoked very much of it, I tossed it into the street, and shifted our bag of chips, dingdongs, candy bar into my other hand. If he noticed that I had tossed my cigarette away, he didn't remark on it. I looked at the puddles on the street, leftover from many rains today, and wondered what would have happened if one of them had been gasoline instead when I flicked the butt away.
I can't sleep tonight. Again. Probably because I had to lie down at 5, so very tired. We had sex and I came for a very long time, and I felt like I could have cum for an hour. But I thought he probably wanted to get to sleep at some point.
I have a phone interview with a recruiter tomorrow morning. That was pretty stupid. I don't want the job. I am not planning to relocate. But I couldn't let the ego stroke pass me by. Or something.
Tonight, lying in bed, I was feeling restless, bored. I want to be noticed, I want to be famous or loved or just seen somehow. I want someone to feel some curiosity about me. I know the best way to get this is just to live my life and have it be as full as it can be: at the point that I no longer care whether or not I am seen, I will be seen.
I worried and fretted in my bed earlier that I am not fully present in my life. I am half-way into the computer world all the time, at every moment. I can't stay offline, always moving from site to site, checking, checking, seeing, seeing. I don't do anything anymore. I don't eat out of my fridge. I don't feed the cats. I don't cook dinner. I don't fold the laundry. I hire someone to clean. I am no longer fully engaged in my physical world. I have managed to eliminate the need to do anything but hold the laptop and type.
There is something seriously wrong with this. I need to unplug more. I must. I must get out to the studio and use the paints. Think about things that I can do with the children so they will learn to do more than just look at computer screens. This is a sickness. I need to fully engage, do the laundry, vacuum.
This morning, I cooked eggs for the children and made hot chocolate and last night, we all went to baseball. I ran four miles. Today, we walked to the gas station at midnight. We made love. I started a book. It isn't as bad as I'm making it out to be. But it certainly could be better.
I can't sleep tonight. Again. Probably because I had to lie down at 5, so very tired. We had sex and I came for a very long time, and I felt like I could have cum for an hour. But I thought he probably wanted to get to sleep at some point.
I have a phone interview with a recruiter tomorrow morning. That was pretty stupid. I don't want the job. I am not planning to relocate. But I couldn't let the ego stroke pass me by. Or something.
Tonight, lying in bed, I was feeling restless, bored. I want to be noticed, I want to be famous or loved or just seen somehow. I want someone to feel some curiosity about me. I know the best way to get this is just to live my life and have it be as full as it can be: at the point that I no longer care whether or not I am seen, I will be seen.
I worried and fretted in my bed earlier that I am not fully present in my life. I am half-way into the computer world all the time, at every moment. I can't stay offline, always moving from site to site, checking, checking, seeing, seeing. I don't do anything anymore. I don't eat out of my fridge. I don't feed the cats. I don't cook dinner. I don't fold the laundry. I hire someone to clean. I am no longer fully engaged in my physical world. I have managed to eliminate the need to do anything but hold the laptop and type.
There is something seriously wrong with this. I need to unplug more. I must. I must get out to the studio and use the paints. Think about things that I can do with the children so they will learn to do more than just look at computer screens. This is a sickness. I need to fully engage, do the laundry, vacuum.
This morning, I cooked eggs for the children and made hot chocolate and last night, we all went to baseball. I ran four miles. Today, we walked to the gas station at midnight. We made love. I started a book. It isn't as bad as I'm making it out to be. But it certainly could be better.
5/19/2007
2/09/2006
9/04/2005
Snapshots
As you may have noticed, I am back at blogger, my old friend, because Iki is hard at work fixing my blog and updating my Movable Type! Thank you, Iki!!!
Friday: Going out to dinner with friends, eating Mexican food, drinking frozen strawberry Margaritas. Going to the DuKum and not caring about the music, going downstairs with my gin and tonic and talking out on the patio with J.
Saturday: Going to Home Depot for the first time.
Jen: "When I was a child, I would have thought this was the most boring place in the world. It would have made me feel like I wanted to go to sleep."
Dash: "And now that you're an adult?"
Jen: " This is the most boring place in the world, and I want to go to sleep."
Saturday: Going on the most stiff-legged run ever for four miles.
Saturday: Taking a bath with Dash, and singing Bohemian Rhapsody, just one phrase over and over again, loudly, while pouring water over his head: "Mama, life had just begun! And now I've gone and thrown it alllll awayyyyyy... Mammmmma! Oooohhhhhh! Didn't mean to make you cry! If I'm not back again this time TOMORROWWWWW, carry OOOOON, CARRYY OOOOONNNN, cause nothing really matters to MMEEEEE."
Sunday: Lying in bed in the darkened room and finishing Eragon. Feeling tired from the past week's insomnia. And fully sick of the computer for the first time in years. Trotting off now!
Friday: Going out to dinner with friends, eating Mexican food, drinking frozen strawberry Margaritas. Going to the DuKum and not caring about the music, going downstairs with my gin and tonic and talking out on the patio with J.
Saturday: Going to Home Depot for the first time.
Jen: "When I was a child, I would have thought this was the most boring place in the world. It would have made me feel like I wanted to go to sleep."
Dash: "And now that you're an adult?"
Jen: " This is the most boring place in the world, and I want to go to sleep."
Saturday: Going on the most stiff-legged run ever for four miles.
Saturday: Taking a bath with Dash, and singing Bohemian Rhapsody, just one phrase over and over again, loudly, while pouring water over his head: "Mama, life had just begun! And now I've gone and thrown it alllll awayyyyyy... Mammmmma! Oooohhhhhh! Didn't mean to make you cry! If I'm not back again this time TOMORROWWWWW, carry OOOOON, CARRYY OOOOONNNN, cause nothing really matters to MMEEEEE."
Sunday: Lying in bed in the darkened room and finishing Eragon. Feeling tired from the past week's insomnia. And fully sick of the computer for the first time in years. Trotting off now!
9/02/2005
4/18/2005
3/31/2005
2/22/2005
Jenorama: Superhero
KatieK told me I could have this superhero!!! How great is that???
Here are some of the taglines I've been writing down in my little notebook: What do you think?
There is no blog.
Ceci n'est-ce pas une blog.
This is not the blog you're looking for.
Full of bull from morning til night. (and I am a Taurus, get it?)
Cuter Than a Hedgehog.
Dust In Its Infinite Lightness.
This is not a blog.
It's not just for breakfast anymore.
The blog you don't take home to mother.
Putting the "ma" back in Jenorama.
Putting the "no" back in Jenorama.
Putting the "or" back in Jenorama.
More Jen than you can shake a stick at.
All Jen. All the Time.
More Jen than you can Rama.
Scaring young children since 1993.
Where young boys are surgically removed.
The pussy next door.
Ain't No Time To Blog
Ain't Too Proud to Blog.
Reheat on high 1 minute.
Here are some of the taglines I've been writing down in my little notebook: What do you think?
There is no blog.
Ceci n'est-ce pas une blog.
This is not the blog you're looking for.
Full of bull from morning til night. (and I am a Taurus, get it?)
Cuter Than a Hedgehog.
Dust In Its Infinite Lightness.
This is not a blog.
It's not just for breakfast anymore.
The blog you don't take home to mother.
Putting the "ma" back in Jenorama.
Putting the "no" back in Jenorama.
Putting the "or" back in Jenorama.
More Jen than you can shake a stick at.
All Jen. All the Time.
More Jen than you can Rama.
Scaring young children since 1993.
Where young boys are surgically removed.
The pussy next door.
Ain't No Time To Blog
Ain't Too Proud to Blog.
Reheat on high 1 minute.
Dumb Little Tuesday
When I was in high school, we had this little old, frail, bent over English teacher who was widely feared. Mrs. Fuller. She was older than God, and I think she has passed away by now.
She was a lovely woman, and introduced me to more great literature than I was exposed to in college and graduate school combined. Not that her lecture skills were great: her idea of lecturing was dictating notes while she made her dinner. Then, she would play them for us. And she made us write. Boy, did she make us write: a 5 page paper every three weeks on a book read outside of class. That was in addition to Lalich's book review and research paper. Five papers, typed on a typewriter, when you are 15 years old, every nine weeks. If that doesn't make or break you, I don't know what will.
I was thinking of Mrs. Fuller today because she always used to call Tuesday Dumb Little Tuesday. She couldn't see that it had any value in the week. Monday you dread. Wednesday is hump day. Thursday is So Happy It's Thursday. Friday is TGIF. Saturday and Sunday are the weekend and Sabbath. You get the idea. But Tuesday? Just Dumb Little Tuesday.
Well. I am having a Dumb Little Tuesday.
I started my day by stepping in cat shit with heels on (on a day when I actually wore a little heel with my slacks). I then cleaned up cat shit, not realizing that I had stepped in it.
Until I got into the car and smelled it. Dropped kids off for school, and headed for work so I could wash my shoes before my early morning meeting. Got pulled over by a cop for doing 30 in a 20 MPH zone. He must have a) recognized me from when Sam was hit by a car and b) realized that a ticket would result in my license being suspended, and I was in a minivan for chrissakes, and a dented and dirty minivan at that, because he let me off with just a warning.
I got my shoe washed, got to my meeting and was greeted by friendly black stray puppy in the parking lot.
He was still there when I got out of my meeting.
So, I called animal control to come and get him. I am inspired by the stories I read of people picking up stray dogs and putting them in their cars, but I was late, I was dressed up, and I knew that animal control would take him the same place I would. We have one shelter in town, and they don't kill their animals.
I am dying to drive out and see him and see whether Rufus's siblings are still there... But considering the fact that the cat shit I stepped in this morning was Rufus's and we are taking him to the vet today to de-worm him, maybe I should just assume that doggy and siblings are fine and NOT GO.
Yesterday, Sam appeared to have laryngitis due to a cold.
Today I am starting to think maybe his voice is changing.
Nocturnal emissions I can handle, but I am so not ready for this.
She was a lovely woman, and introduced me to more great literature than I was exposed to in college and graduate school combined. Not that her lecture skills were great: her idea of lecturing was dictating notes while she made her dinner. Then, she would play them for us. And she made us write. Boy, did she make us write: a 5 page paper every three weeks on a book read outside of class. That was in addition to Lalich's book review and research paper. Five papers, typed on a typewriter, when you are 15 years old, every nine weeks. If that doesn't make or break you, I don't know what will.
I was thinking of Mrs. Fuller today because she always used to call Tuesday Dumb Little Tuesday. She couldn't see that it had any value in the week. Monday you dread. Wednesday is hump day. Thursday is So Happy It's Thursday. Friday is TGIF. Saturday and Sunday are the weekend and Sabbath. You get the idea. But Tuesday? Just Dumb Little Tuesday.
Well. I am having a Dumb Little Tuesday.
I started my day by stepping in cat shit with heels on (on a day when I actually wore a little heel with my slacks). I then cleaned up cat shit, not realizing that I had stepped in it.
Until I got into the car and smelled it. Dropped kids off for school, and headed for work so I could wash my shoes before my early morning meeting. Got pulled over by a cop for doing 30 in a 20 MPH zone. He must have a) recognized me from when Sam was hit by a car and b) realized that a ticket would result in my license being suspended, and I was in a minivan for chrissakes, and a dented and dirty minivan at that, because he let me off with just a warning.
I got my shoe washed, got to my meeting and was greeted by friendly black stray puppy in the parking lot.
He was still there when I got out of my meeting.
So, I called animal control to come and get him. I am inspired by the stories I read of people picking up stray dogs and putting them in their cars, but I was late, I was dressed up, and I knew that animal control would take him the same place I would. We have one shelter in town, and they don't kill their animals.
I am dying to drive out and see him and see whether Rufus's siblings are still there... But considering the fact that the cat shit I stepped in this morning was Rufus's and we are taking him to the vet today to de-worm him, maybe I should just assume that doggy and siblings are fine and NOT GO.
Yesterday, Sam appeared to have laryngitis due to a cold.
Today I am starting to think maybe his voice is changing.
Nocturnal emissions I can handle, but I am so not ready for this.
God, That's Depressing...
From:
A VOCATION OF UNHAPPINESS
"Writing is considered a profession, and I don't think it is a profession. I think that everyone who does not need to be a writer, who thinks he can do something else, ought to do something else. Writing is not a profession but a vocation of unhappiness. I don't think an artist can ever be happy." --Georges Simenon (1903-1985) (Borrowed, with thanks, from Collected Miscellany)
2/21/2005
A little help? You know you want to...
Well, as you know, I am taking the big leap into the .com-o-sphere of blogging.
I am now in the queue for my design (and this will be four weeks away, in all likelihood), and starting to think about it. And I am feeling a little blogger-brain dead today after mypitiful heroic installation efforts yesterday.
The first thing I want is a great tag line, and to sort of build my site around that.
I sent an email to my designer Christina (and my techie is Christine) yesterday, giving her the URL of some of my favorite designs from Moxie, and noting themes among them:
I am not that clever, nor that close-lipped.
I am asking for help, please.
Let's start with the tag-line. Do you have any great taglines dancing around that you can part with?
I am now in the queue for my design (and this will be four weeks away, in all likelihood), and starting to think about it. And I am feeling a little blogger-brain dead today after my
The first thing I want is a great tag line, and to sort of build my site around that.
I sent an email to my designer Christina (and my techie is Christine) yesterday, giving her the URL of some of my favorite designs from Moxie, and noting themes among them:
- color=good
- no whitespace
- graphic=good
- possibly the idea of a jenorama superhero?
- plug-ins=good
I am not that clever, nor that close-lipped.
I am asking for help, please.
Let's start with the tag-line. Do you have any great taglines dancing around that you can part with?
2/20/2005
I Should Have Just Bought an iPod My Panic Attack Is Over
Well.
I went ahead and picked out the license I wanted from Movable Type (MT) I contacted blogomania about the package I wanted for web hosting, and the domain name I want (and now own, but which is not yet resolved, so it will keep, though duh, what could it be?).
And so this morning, I had the information about my hosting, and decided to follow the Installation Instructions for MT.
Now. I have a little bit of experience writing instructions. Helllllooooo. And I do believe that even the inexperienced person could probably figure out how to do this with a simple glossary. Like: what is a cgi directory? And how does one create one? Instead of just a direction such as: Create a cgi Directory for your blah blah blah.
Uh, no.
So, I uploaded for over an hour, every single thing involved with MT, and turns out, probably uploaded all of it to the wrong place--
I have no clue what I am doing.
I am eyeing TypePad now, but I just bought a domain name and hosting, so, dammit, I am going to use them!
I somehow (don't ask) managed to install Word Press somehow into something dealing with my webhost (you can ask-- I just don't think I have the vocabulary to explain it).
But I don't think I can use it until my domain name is "resolved" which, I assume, means that it acknowledges that somebody bought it and will let that somebody use it.
Word Press should let me blog.
I even tried, unsuccessfully just to publish this blog on my FTP server. I cut that shit out right away. Damn errors.
I was all cocky five hours ago, thinking, "This cannot be that hard. I have adjusted my template before! And if I figure this out, I may have a promising future in web design!"
But the simple truth is, I think that the amount of TIME involved with using MT might be too daunting. There might be a reason you can make big bucks in Web Developing, which has everything to do with your patience and willingness to sit and do what I do not have the willingness or the patience to sit and do for more than five hours on a Sunday.
Though I know I'll be back at it shortly. It is like having something caught in my teeth-- my tongue can't stop rubbing it.
I know I need to call Don, but I don't want the lecture about not using free software yet. Damn Damn Damn.
I went and picked up Party Boy at 1:30 (I had to shower first, because I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and I looked like Laslo Hollyfeld-- quick, who is that?). He threw up last night, and his voice sounded shaky on the phone. I asked him on the way home, "What time did you go to bed last night?"
And he didn't know.
Last time he went to a slumber party, he came home in the afternoon and slept straight through til morning. I wouldn't be a bit surprised if that happened again today.
If anyone wants to dazzle me with their brilliance about MT or domain names and webhosting and blogs, please HELP!
UPDATE
No, I haven't figured out how to install Movable Type. That is what emails to tech support are for. I got an email back almost immediately from Christine at blogomania telling me where to find tech support. They have paired up with Moxie Designs. And I figure, while I'm at this, I'm gonna go ahead and get my little blog hair done too.
I don't know when my new blog will be up and running, but it's in the works!
I went ahead and picked out the license I wanted from Movable Type (MT) I contacted blogomania about the package I wanted for web hosting, and the domain name I want (and now own, but which is not yet resolved, so it will keep, though duh, what could it be?).
And so this morning, I had the information about my hosting, and decided to follow the Installation Instructions for MT.
Now. I have a little bit of experience writing instructions. Helllllooooo. And I do believe that even the inexperienced person could probably figure out how to do this with a simple glossary. Like: what is a cgi directory? And how does one create one? Instead of just a direction such as: Create a cgi Directory for your blah blah blah.
Uh, no.
So, I uploaded for over an hour, every single thing involved with MT, and turns out, probably uploaded all of it to the wrong place--
I have no clue what I am doing.
I am eyeing TypePad now, but I just bought a domain name and hosting, so, dammit, I am going to use them!
I somehow (don't ask) managed to install Word Press somehow into something dealing with my webhost (you can ask-- I just don't think I have the vocabulary to explain it).
But I don't think I can use it until my domain name is "resolved" which, I assume, means that it acknowledges that somebody bought it and will let that somebody use it.
Word Press should let me blog.
I even tried, unsuccessfully just to publish this blog on my FTP server. I cut that shit out right away. Damn errors.
I was all cocky five hours ago, thinking, "This cannot be that hard. I have adjusted my template before! And if I figure this out, I may have a promising future in web design!"
But the simple truth is, I think that the amount of TIME involved with using MT might be too daunting. There might be a reason you can make big bucks in Web Developing, which has everything to do with your patience and willingness to sit and do what I do not have the willingness or the patience to sit and do for more than five hours on a Sunday.
Though I know I'll be back at it shortly. It is like having something caught in my teeth-- my tongue can't stop rubbing it.
I know I need to call Don, but I don't want the lecture about not using free software yet. Damn Damn Damn.
I went and picked up Party Boy at 1:30 (I had to shower first, because I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and I looked like Laslo Hollyfeld-- quick, who is that?). He threw up last night, and his voice sounded shaky on the phone. I asked him on the way home, "What time did you go to bed last night?"
And he didn't know.
Last time he went to a slumber party, he came home in the afternoon and slept straight through til morning. I wouldn't be a bit surprised if that happened again today.
If anyone wants to dazzle me with their brilliance about MT or domain names and webhosting and blogs, please HELP!
UPDATE
No, I haven't figured out how to install Movable Type. That is what emails to tech support are for. I got an email back almost immediately from Christine at blogomania telling me where to find tech support. They have paired up with Moxie Designs. And I figure, while I'm at this, I'm gonna go ahead and get my little blog hair done too.
I don't know when my new blog will be up and running, but it's in the works!
2/19/2005
Friday night comas
I do not know why I asked Dereck last night whether he wanted to watch a movie.
Except that I must have forgotten about my Friday night coma.
This past week has been particularly stressful for several reasons, none of which I can blog about. My blood pressure was even up. Which means I have to start exercising again. Which will also make the stress less stressful.
Sigh.
Sam is at his party, and I ended up going to the Huffalump movie with the younger pups. I will pick up Sam, have him pack his stuff and hang out a bit, then take him onward to his next party.
Hopefully this evening, I will be able to stay awake past 8:00 p.m.
And resist the pervasive feeling that I should be doing something else with my weekend.
Except that I must have forgotten about my Friday night coma.
This past week has been particularly stressful for several reasons, none of which I can blog about. My blood pressure was even up. Which means I have to start exercising again. Which will also make the stress less stressful.
Sigh.
Sam is at his party, and I ended up going to the Huffalump movie with the younger pups. I will pick up Sam, have him pack his stuff and hang out a bit, then take him onward to his next party.
Hopefully this evening, I will be able to stay awake past 8:00 p.m.
And resist the pervasive feeling that I should be doing something else with my weekend.
2/18/2005
The Conversations You Have When They're Eleven...
Sam has a friend over. I was picking him up at the Presbytarian Church after school (they love that program, all of them, and now I do too) and I saw a familiar mother.
"I know I know you, and I know I like you, but who are you?" I asked her.
She told me we had met at a wine tasting (well, that explains it-- just kidding, Dad, I only had one glass!). Then we talked about our sons, same age, same class, and how the kids at his school (even smaller and more rural than ours) make fun of him because he wants to be a magician (Robin, he takes classes from Michael!) and he is sensitive and into D and D.
I said, "Does he want to come over to play on Friday night?
Sam: "We can play Halo 2 which is rated M for Maturity because of the violence and obscenities, but if you think that swearing is bad, you should read the book."
Me: "Boy, Sam, you just make me sound like a better mother with every word."
Sam: "Oh, sorry, Mom."
Well, I don't know whether she is very laid back or whether she just couldn't understand him (did I mention that all of my children have inherited from me talkingververyveryfastandunintelligibly?), but she did not seem to mind, and she said he could come. We exchanged information.
The day before we were driving home from school:
Sam: "Have you ever fancied anybody, Mom?"
Me: "Have I? Who didn't I fancy?" Pause. "Do you fancy someone?"
Sam: "Yes."
Me: "Who is it?"
Sam: "Her name is Girl in My Class. And she invited me to a party on Saturday."
Me: "Did she invite the whole class?"
Sam: "Not exactly. A girl kind of sidled up to me at lunch time and gave me the invitation and told me not to read it yet. I read it at recess."
Can you picture it? Sam sneaking off to a corner to read the envelope and seeing the party invitation? It could make Martha Stewart's heart melt.
So, he called her after school to tell her he could come. His first call to a GIRL!
THEN last night, the father of yet another friend called and asked Sam to spend the night (hold your breath!) on Saturday night (exhale with relief).
I told Dereck, "Wow, I hope he doesn't peak at age 11."
Tonight:
Sam: "Mom, you know that video I told you about? I finally got to watch it yesterday."
I am wracking my brain. Aliens? Alien vs. Predator? He was at his father's last night-- it could be anything.
Me: "How was it?"
Sam shrugged: "Okay."
Oh that video.
Me: "A little embarrassing?"
Sam: "Yeah. They gave each of us a little packet, " (holds up pointer and thumb to make a square) "of deodorant, " (Okay, I can breathe now) he continued.
Me: "Did they tell you to wear it every day?"
Sam: "Yes."
Me: "See?"
Dereck: "What was this video?"
Sam: "Puberty is the gateway to human sexuality."
Me: "Purity? Did you say purity?"
Sam: "Puberty."
Me: "Oh."
Pause.
I sent a sidelong glance to Dereck and asked slyly, thinking there was no possible way, but it was okay because Sam wouldn't know what I was talking about anyway: "Did they tell you about nocturnal emissions?"
Sam nodded solemnly and recited with the perfect un-self-consciousness of a young boy who has never had one: "'Also known as wet dreams.'"
"I know I know you, and I know I like you, but who are you?" I asked her.
She told me we had met at a wine tasting (well, that explains it-- just kidding, Dad, I only had one glass!). Then we talked about our sons, same age, same class, and how the kids at his school (even smaller and more rural than ours) make fun of him because he wants to be a magician (Robin, he takes classes from Michael!) and he is sensitive and into D and D.
I said, "Does he want to come over to play on Friday night?
Sam: "We can play Halo 2 which is rated M for Maturity because of the violence and obscenities, but if you think that swearing is bad, you should read the book."
Me: "Boy, Sam, you just make me sound like a better mother with every word."
Sam: "Oh, sorry, Mom."
Well, I don't know whether she is very laid back or whether she just couldn't understand him (did I mention that all of my children have inherited from me talkingververyveryfastandunintelligibly?), but she did not seem to mind, and she said he could come. We exchanged information.
The day before we were driving home from school:
Sam: "Have you ever fancied anybody, Mom?"
Me: "Have I? Who didn't I fancy?" Pause. "Do you fancy someone?"
Sam: "Yes."
Me: "Who is it?"
Sam: "Her name is Girl in My Class. And she invited me to a party on Saturday."
Me: "Did she invite the whole class?"
Sam: "Not exactly. A girl kind of sidled up to me at lunch time and gave me the invitation and told me not to read it yet. I read it at recess."
Can you picture it? Sam sneaking off to a corner to read the envelope and seeing the party invitation? It could make Martha Stewart's heart melt.
So, he called her after school to tell her he could come. His first call to a GIRL!
THEN last night, the father of yet another friend called and asked Sam to spend the night (hold your breath!) on Saturday night (exhale with relief).
I told Dereck, "Wow, I hope he doesn't peak at age 11."
Tonight:
Sam: "Mom, you know that video I told you about? I finally got to watch it yesterday."
I am wracking my brain. Aliens? Alien vs. Predator? He was at his father's last night-- it could be anything.
Me: "How was it?"
Sam shrugged: "Okay."
Oh that video.
Me: "A little embarrassing?"
Sam: "Yeah. They gave each of us a little packet, " (holds up pointer and thumb to make a square) "of deodorant, " (Okay, I can breathe now) he continued.
Me: "Did they tell you to wear it every day?"
Sam: "Yes."
Me: "See?"
Dereck: "What was this video?"
Sam: "Puberty is the gateway to human sexuality."
Me: "Purity? Did you say purity?"
Sam: "Puberty."
Me: "Oh."
Pause.
I sent a sidelong glance to Dereck and asked slyly, thinking there was no possible way, but it was okay because Sam wouldn't know what I was talking about anyway: "Did they tell you about nocturnal emissions?"
Sam nodded solemnly and recited with the perfect un-self-consciousness of a young boy who has never had one: "'Also known as wet dreams.'"
Whoa, Doggy, and Other Thoughts
When I saw this article this morning, I felt like I was in touch with the Tao. I haven't actually read all of it yet, because it is long, and because I had just written about the subject (and gotten fabulous responses from y'all). But I did feel smug.
Blogger has been incredibly slowwwwww the past few days, causing me once again to contemplate spreading my baby blogger wings and getting a blog I have to pay for.
All of ye out there with .com addresses, what are the advantages, what are the features, how do I do it, what will it cost me, and will my readers follow me if I become jenorama.com?
Other thoughts rumbling around:
What is rumbling around in your grey space today?
Blogger has been incredibly slowwwwww the past few days, causing me once again to contemplate spreading my baby blogger wings and getting a blog I have to pay for.
All of ye out there with .com addresses, what are the advantages, what are the features, how do I do it, what will it cost me, and will my readers follow me if I become jenorama.com?
Other thoughts rumbling around:
- Should I get an iPod? Which one? How much longer can I hold out before getting one?
- My cell phone is still hanging in here, but it is dying in slow, painful increments. What happens if I get an iPod, and then I have to replace my cell phone?
- Three little boys will need braces. And then college.
- I should never spend money on myself again.
- Should I update my spring wardrobe? My red Mary Janes are years old and pretty scuffed... I could buy some polish...
- Does that chick on the yoplait commercial eat only yogurt to fit into that bikini? Is that balanced? What about the vegetables? And why don't we get to see her in the bikini at the end? And why does she look so constipated every time she wistfully walks by with her yogurt to gaze at that damn bikini?
- Didn't Jennifer Garner know that you don't let them hire attractive actresses who are more interesting to watch to upstage you on your own TV show? Will she hire attractive nannies when she has children?
- [Note: I am on record here as adoring Jennifer Garner, but the chick who plays her sister is way cool.]
What is rumbling around in your grey space today?
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