Mourning

I am beyond sad that the last ER is on tonight.

Mean Girls

So I've reluctantly gotten into this Facebook craze. Trust me, for MONTHS I resisted. Several of my seasoned friends (we don't say "OLD," we say seasoned) had been relentlessly bugging the crap out of me to "get a facebook." I have had all kinds of rational reasons why that would never happen - people lose their jobs, there are some people I probably don't want to find, etc. etc.

I finally bit the proverbial bullet about a month ago while doing a "routine sweep" of #1 Son's page. Yes, the kids are on the computer (Facebook and MySpace "respectively"), but the rule is that at any time C. or I can have them log-on to their account and turn the keyboard over to us so we can read everything. Hey, when they pay for their own high-speed connection, they can plead "privacy" issues. Call it our checks & balances system.

But I digress...

So I was on #1 Sons account one night and I looked up several of my old...uh, seasoned friends. Turned out that this Facebook thing is pretty cool. So I joined. I added like 6 friends (the people who had been pestering me to join).

Within days, I had all these friend requests from former high school classmates. How cool was this?!

"Oh, I remember him! I haven't seen him since graduation, how the heck is he doing? ADD."

"Man, I haven't seen him since our 15 year reunion! We should catch up! ADD."

"It's her! He were such good friends in school - us against the world. Too bad we grew apart! ADD."

"Yay! She was so popular in school and I loved that she always made time for me. Add."

"Wow. I didn't know that she even knew who I was. Add."

"Yeah. She never really spoke to me during our whole 3 years in HS. add."

"Um...she was a witch to me for three miserable years. Why in God's name has she now added me as a friend on Facebook? ...add...I guess."

"Dear Lord, you were the snootiest, most hateful, stuck up chick (with the biggest hair) who only wore designer clothes and looked down on 98% of us....Uh...Ignore."

My friends, I hypothesize that the number of "Facebook friends" that the "popular High School crowd" has, directly correlates with how miserable and insecure they are in adulthood. It's all about quantity rather than quality. But then again, hasn't it always been?

Expanding Our Family By A Daughter

Oh Dear Lord NOOOOO!!!!

I'm not pregnant. If I was, you would have read about it in my local paper (or have seen it on your local news on a slow news day). I would have made Greg Louganis proud with my header off the tallest building downtown.

No friends, it looks like we might become an "emergency host family" for a foreign exchange student. A sweet girl who happens to be on #1 Son's crew team, had the proverbial rug pulled out from her last weekend. Her host family suffered a "crisis" and she was put out (long story, but suffice it to say that I have no sympathy for the "crisis."). Her only options were...well, the bottom line was that her only option was to go home early and lose an entire year of school. For something that was not her fault. Suffice it to say that we thought, "what if it was one of OUR kids in the same situation? What would we want?"

So here we are. Apparently our references lied and said nice things about us.

This poor kid. She might actually be joining our family for the next 2 months! Allah help her!

Bozo

Me: Why do you waste so much time and energy (not to mention products) straightening your hair on rainy days like this?

The Daughter: So my hair doesn't look like yours.

As If I Can Keep Track

So we get this big Birthday invite via snail mail. There's a return address - no name. It's for some child's Birthday. OK, that narrows it down.

It's a 2nd Birthday. Too young for one of The Baby's classmates. Hmmmm.

The name is Chloe. No last name. No details at all except a date, time and location.

Who the heck ARE these people? Who is this child?

Warning: Potty Talk Ahead

So The Baby is almost completely potty trained. It's about time, too, because he's almost 7. Not really. He's only 3 - it just feels like 7.

#1 Son looked at me tonight (as he was being shoved out of the bathroom to the tune of, "Get OUT Bubby, I have to potty!") and mouthed "FINALLY!"

I pointed out that while I am completely thrilled by the recent turn of events, it *IS* a bit sad. The kid IS my last baby after all.

Without skipping a beat, #1 said, "Awww. Don't worry Mom, soon enough you'll be in diapers."

Oh yeah Smart Mouth? Guess who's going to have to change them.

HA!

My Evil Plan...REALIZED!!

Yes friends, my evil plan has come to fruition. (Que evil laugh) Mu Ha Ha.

You see, my friends and family have called me a "gourmet" and a "chef" for years. Really all that means is that I love to cook. Honestly, I'm just really good at following recipes. Chefs create...I copy. I make at least 3 or 4 new recipes every week. I'm not original, but the eats are still pretty good around here.

That being said, the family naturally has Thanksgiving dinner here at our house. We have the most room, and I love to cook. Some years we have a large number of attendees, other years the dinners are smaller. One fact remains the same....

*ahem* *cough, cough*

I have a confession to make.

I have NEVER cleaned a turkey for Thanksgiving. NEVER.

You see, I honestly think the whole idea is pretty disgusting. I have a major poultry issue. Seriously, I can't even eat chicken on the bone. And the thought of actually sticking my hand in a raw slimy bird to remove/clean/ANYTHING is positively revolting to me. At Thanksgiving I get around it by "allowing" my Mother and/or my Mother-In-Law to take control of the kitchen for the 15 minutes that preparing the bird requires. This tactic has worked for years.

Last year I began to detect a flaw in the system. What would happen if (God forbid) my Mother or my Mother-In-Law were not around???!?! Fortunately for me, the answer revealed itself this year. Amazingly enough, both teens showed interest in preparing the meal this year. #1 Son helped me from start to finish with every dish. When it came time to prepare the bird (this year we opted for 2 turkey breasts, as we had a much smaller crowd), both kids actually *asked* to help!

How great was it for ME that my Mother showed the kids how to clean the birds?!??!?!

HALLELUJAH! #1 Son actually made the comment, "so I suppose I'm going to have to do this for the rest of YOUR life??"

Well...DUH.

Eeeeewwwwww!

*I* Remember

It was 1976. I was in sixth grade.

I remember that Mr. Hunt, my teacher, wore the most horrendous (to me now) powder blue leisure suit and red print shirt in our class picture.

I remember feeling sad when Ford lost and Carter won, because my father seemed defeated. I didn't know why.

I remember gas lines, when you could only buy 10 gallons on certain days - if your license plate ended in an even number, you bought gas on that day, odd numbers, the other days. All that goes through my mind tonight is PERSONALIZED tags. I have them - there is NO odd or even?!!! When will I get to buy gas?

Our new President is a Socialist. Lord help me, because I remember.

I remember interest rates - a concept that was as foreign to me back then as nuclear physics. I remember the rates for buying a home going to 12% and higher - the prime interest rate went above 17%.

Tonight, I understand my parents' concern.

There's only so much damage that a socialist President and a Democratic Congress can do.

I pray that my family can financially survive it.

Beware the Blue Dragon

C. made the costume. Yes, the "fire" lights up.

And yes, we have all worn the head at some point in time this weekend.

And The Winner Is....

ME!!! I've reached "major life goal" number TWO this year. You may remember that #1 was to row a double with #1 Son. We did that back in August. Goal #2 was to row competitively. Check that one off - I rowed in the Head of the Lafayette regatta in a novice women's 8. We WON our race! Woo Hoo!!! #1 Son rowed in 2 boats for his HS team. One came in third, and his other boat won their race as well. Here we are...looking really rough (well at least *I* am!) in the aftermath.

"Major life goal" #3 is to actually run a 5K race.

Yeah, I know.

No, I'm only on my second glass of wine.

Really.