it's friday, it's raining (again), and it's only a matter of time until my car dies for good...

this car...if this car was a cat it would be my cat...

it's like driving miss daisy...literally...like it's me and the boybarians and all of our stuff and we're all on some really old woman's back and she's trying to take us where we need to go...

the mathematician says my car is like a tom waits song...which would amuse me if it weren't so damned true...

i could list all that is wrong with it, but i don't think i have it in me...and there's probably more wrong with it than i even can imagine...

and now, apparently it has become a home away from home to some wasps...today was the second day in a row i was greeted by one of the little fuckers while driving down the road trying to gain enough speed so the car coming up behind me didn't smash into me...

meanwhile, the radio and tail lights went out today so i was under the hood in the rain jury rigging shit and replacing a fuse...in the liquor store parking lot...nice...why do i feel my childhood rushing back?

the car, like the cat even got me out of bed prematurely this morning...it started with the sound of raindrops...which then had me leaping from bed with the distinct memory of *not* having shut the sunroof yesterday...

which technically isn't the car's fault, but really, for the sake of argument, it is...just like it's technically not the cat's fault when she pukes on the stairs and pees on my bed because she's so old she doesn't know better...but really, it is...

part of me thinks i don't deserve this, and the other part of me thinks it's just carma...(she says ducking...sorry, i couldn't resist)

happy friday, and may all of you get where you need to go without the aid of a roll of duct tape and lots and lots of swearing...

x.

while the cat's away...

apparently the mouse finds it necessary stay up till 1:30 in the morning drinking white wine and watching a demi moore movie marathon...oh and yes, it was every bit as exciting as it sounds...

in other news, i've been meaning to post about the chess tournament...the duke did well, didn't place individually, but overall his team placed 8th in the state...and believe me when i tell you, chess parents are far scarier than sports parents...

other than the above, there's not much to report...school's going well, the boybarians are good, the cat's still alive...though she's out of food right now and i'm debating whether or not to buy our usual big bag of food...it's a better deal all the way around, unless, you know, it doesn't get finished...then it's just a waste of money...

i've never been accused of being an optimist...

and now i will leave you with the following...i believe it truly encapsulates a little something i like to call my life with boybarians which is also known as all beatles, all the time...

so the boybarians are wrestling around the living room after school this morning and they crash into the ottoman which is holding the big book of cds...it's open and they fall right onto it...

"be careful!...you guys are going break those cds!"

to which wingman responds with all sincerity and reassurance to me

"dat's okay...they aren't the beatles cds"

x.

eight years ago today...

after going 2 weeks past my due date, 36 hours of labor, 1 separated pubic bone, 16 cups of blood lost, 1 round trip to hell and back, a near trip to heaven, and some pretty heavy bargaining with the powers that be, all 10 1/2 pounds of the duke of fun was born...the picture of health and not a scratch on him...

i of course was a broken and bloody wreck who had to be sent to the hospital to be pumped full of blood and morphine...nothing like setting up the dynamics early, huh?

and after all of that, you think he could let me sleep past 4 am on his birthday...

no chance...

the truth of the matter is, i owe my life to that boy...if it weren't for him i wouldn't be here today...when i was bleeding and it was all going downhill so fast the thing that compelled me to keep fighting was the fact that for the first time in my life i had something greater than myself to fight for...something beyond my own ego...a better source of power i do not know of...

it's amazing just how amazing life becomes when you remove yourself from the center of it...

so happy birthday to the duke of fun, my beloved boy and awesome eight year old!!!...

i certainly could not have asked for a better gift than to celebrate the day he was born every year...

x.

the great white hope...

so we will leave shortly to escort the duke of fun to the state elementary chess championship tournament!!!

i am extremely proud of him...especially seeing as i don't even know how to play chess myself...

so send some good vibes his way tomorrow and pray we find a way to effectively entertain wingman for twelve hours...

x.

you can be the president, i'd rather be the pope...

so amidst white smoke, bells, and birds they announced the new pope...

and i am still surprised that i didn't make the short list...

probably that thing at the border...

x.

charming, humorous, incredulous, religious...and it's only monday...

one of wingman's grandest pleasures in life is to lie on the couch and listen to the beatles...looking at the liner notes and singing along...as you might imagine, it is impossibly charming...

in other news, the logic of the nearly eight year old continues to abound...and astound...

so the lord of the ring got the three disc set of michael palin's (of monty python fame) humorous travel series around the world in 80 days...he and the duke were eagerly anticipating its arrival...

so they all gather 'round the laptop on the couch to watch...i am in the chair reading...i inquire as to when this was filmed...the lord of the ring says he doesn't know...as they get more into watching the first episode the lord of the ring calls over that it was done in 1988...to which the duke responds with much incredulous clamor

"and it's in color!!!???!!!"

it's amazing i make it through the day and then get up and do it all over again...

anyhow, the weather is fine so i will cut this short...

i would however like to leave you all with the following that i have been thinking quite a great deal about lately...

there is a certain point in our history, in our collective use of language, wherein the word "religion" went from being a verb to being a noun...

i'll get back to this at some point...but right now, i reel with the historical, personal, and of course future implications of this transition...

it's monday people!...up and at 'em!

x.

it's friday, it's raining, and it's the return of the lord of the ring...

he got a last minute flight on some crop duster so he will be home in time for dinner...

meanwhile i am unearthing my bed and the area around it from the dishes, magazines, books, and other detrius that tends to settle there in his absence...

life would be decidedly messier if i didn't have to share my bed with anyone...

and notice how i keep using the term "my bed"...i'm telling you, dude better figure out this "working from home" gig or else posters might start goin' up soon...

"hey, is that the guy from the motorcycle diaries above your dresser?...and why is everything monogramed with an *x*?"

x.

dude.

i'm not really sure how it happened, but lately wingman has been more and more resembling in his speech patterns, his mannerisms, and his dress a cross between the big lebowski and spicoli from fast times at ridgemont high...

which would be wicked cool if he was a drinking buddy and not my four year old son...

and if there is anything more to say about that, i really don't know what it would be...

x.

kombucha, anyone?

so yesterday i was at the food co-op in the town where my in-laws live...

i was getting some lunch for the boybarians and myself, and it was not pretty...and i'm not just talking about the slices of "living raw food pizza" either...

now, i am not unfamiliar with food co-ops...nor am i unfamiliar with the *culture* that goes along with food co-ops...but apparently they didn't get the memo because it was if i was part of the vast right wing conspiracy the way i was treated...

for starters, i needed my food to go (i.e. put in individual disposable containers OH THE HORROR!) simply because there was not a spare table or chair to be had...ooohhh, no good...very bad...

when asked if i belonged to the co-op upon checkout (for the member discount) i answered no, we are from out of town...then the cashier asked are you a member of any co-op (again, you could receive a discount if a member of another co-op) i answered no (there is no co-op where i live, but she doesn't know that)...well, that didn't go over well with her...she narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips...strike two...

then she wanted to know if i wanted her to bag my groceries since i was so busy with the card machine?...well who in the hell knew you had to enter all the numbers including sale amount and whatnot yourself?...usually you enter some numbers they do some numbers on the register, and it's all copasetic...they don't tell you this, there's no sign...so of course i got flubbed up and had to start again...a line began to form behind me...so i said, and kindly i might add

"no, let me finish here and i'll bag them myself"

then i feel a tap on my shoulder and the woman behind me says

"it looks like you forgot to bring a bag...here, have one of mine"

then she hands me a bag...

it would have been a kind gesture if she hadn't done it completely begrudgingly and with total disdain...

then the cashier pipes up

"(big irritated sigh) here, let me do it...it looks like you have your hands full with the card machine"

AND I KID YOU NOT SHE ROLLED HER EYES AT THE LADY BEHIND ME!

wait, it gets better because some tables in the deli opened up and since it was raining outside we decided we should eat inside...

well you can imagine the look on the face of the deli woman when i took my individually packaged in disposable containers lunch out to eat inside...at one point it looked as if she might just come over and count how many napkins i chose to use...

say, how about a healthy dose of liberal guilt to go with your lunch?

it was irritating because it was like been there done that and i'm SO not an asshole because my town doesn't have a co-op!...

i had to stop myself from climbing on the table and shouting out "I'LL HAVE YOU ALL KNOW THAT I USED TO BE A VEGAN HIPPY! I MADE MY OWN SOY MILK FOR FUCK'S SAKE AND DIDN'T SHAVE A THING OR WEAR LEATHER! I'VE USED THE CRYSTAL IN PLACE OF DEODORANT AND IT WASN'T PRETTY BUT I DID IT ANYWAY! AND I TRAVELED FROM FAIR TO FAIR SELLING HEMP PRODUCTS BEFORE THEY BECAME SO MAINSTREAM YOU COULD GET THEM FROM THE 7-11! I WAS AT REDWOOD SUMMER FOR CHRIST'S SAKE! AND COME TO THINK OF IT, I DIDN'T SEE ANY OF YOU PEOPLE THERE!!"

it took everything i had, but i refrained...afterall, i was raised to be a lady...

now, ALL of that would have been bad enough except for the other thing that happened at the co-op...

friends, i was finally and convincingly confronted with a very disturbing truth yesterday...

middle aged men with long hair and earth shoes who buy in bulk LOVE ME...A LOT...

if i got one smiley look, i got a million...you know the look...the hey, you're cute and i'm gonna smile at you look...yes, you are a foxy lady...

seriously...and yes, it was weird...i've noticed this before with this particular segment of the population, but have thus far successfully been able to ignore it...but yesterday it was all too apparent and could not be ignored any longer...

i don't know what it is about me, and i have no idea how to make it go away, but apparently i'm like the pamela anderson for neo-liberal, health conscious, community minded baby boomers...

should i suddenly find myself in need of companionship i can forget about bars or clubs with other people my own age...apparently it's the the co-op for me...no doubt i'll be hanging out in the supplements aisle between the saw palmetto (good for prostate health) and the ginseng (good for *drive*) chatting about leonard cohen and robert bly, and exchanging phone numbers written on bulk bin tags...

and no, it has not escaped my notice that i may eventually have to learn how to do the "twirl"...one hand up, head thrown back...

man that's gonna screw my neck up but good...

x.

it's friday, i'm back, and the boybarians haven't changed a bit...

i am on the mend...took a turn for the worse on wednesday with the mother of all migraines, but all in all i seem to be doing okay...

which is more than i can say for my children...

yesterday while going over the duke's latin work he stood beside me while i remain seated...i was very carefully trying to explain a point and it took a few minutes...when i was finished i looked up at him and he was staring at me...and without missing a beat he said

"your head looks really small...it's kinda creepy"

then this morning i told the kids that the lord of the ring (working from home this week) and i were taking them to the family pancake house for breakfast as a special treat...then wingman who is all of four pipes up and says

"i don't willy (really) care for colored corn syrup...do day (they) have maple?"

oh. my.

enjoy your friday...

x.

how far along am i?...apparently about 25lbs. too much!

so i've been down for the count this week...turns out i have a kidney infection...

while being diagnosed and treated today, the nurse comes in and says

"so you're pregnant right?"

"um, noooo...not unless my urine sample yielded something i don't know"

"oh, no...we didn't do a test, i just thought, um,..."

she futzes with me quickly then leaves...

the doctor comes in takes one look at me and says

"so how far along are you?"

"um, i'm not pregnant...the nurse must have misinformed you"

he's blushing and starts speaking really fast...

"oh, well i didn't talk to the nurse...it's just...well now, how long have you had these particular symptoms?"

suddenly he's all business and won't look at me...

there's something very wrong here and i think it has a lot to do with my big fat ass...

so now i'm doped up on the high dollar antibiotics and some beefed up ibuprofen...

the second i can actually stand up all the way straight and pee without shouting out in sheer crippling pain that doctor and nurse are forgiven...

in the meantime, perhaps i oughta think about ramping up the old excercise routine...

x.