Today is Thursday. That means soccer practice for The Bandit. Today was also VERY windy. How windy was it? It was sooo windy that when I was driving a golf cart at work today, a gust of wind actually stopped it in its tracks! The golf cart and I just sort of paused there with my foot flat on the accelerator, hesitating, and then the gust died down and we moved forward again. That’s pretty freakin’ windy.
So after that incident, I called My Honey to see if the practice had been cancelled due to the wind. He didn’t think so. I suggested he tie anchors or something to the kid’s feet to keep him on the ground.
So now on the eve of a day off from work, when I should be finishing the scene with Francesca and Thomas at the opera – it’s a very pivotal scene – I’m instead writing inanities to you, eating Godiva chocolate, and watching my lover, Christian Bale, as Batman. Every time I watch it, I miss Heath. So as a balm I will watch A Knight’s Tale but then I end up missing him even more.
Many of you have asked when my books will be available. The answer is I DON’T KNOW and it’s killing me. There was a hold up when they let my editor go and we had to start from scratch again. ARRRRRRGGGGG!!!!! I promise, nay vow, to let you all know the very instant it becomes available. I assure you that this will be the case. There is nothing I want more (except Ben & Jerry’s Wavy Gravy ice cream but the snots discontinued it) than for you to be able to buy my books.
So, batten down the hatches, put on fuzzy socks, and tune into Batman. I’ll just keep writing away over here. Eventually you’ll get to read something.
I work with a bunch of young men. Young, young men. They are all in their early twenties. Tonight was very slow at work and it was a lovely, balmy evening with a full moon, so I headed outside to do some stuff that needed to be done out there. Because it was such a fantastic night, I did one of the guys work, too. No big deal – besides I enjoyed being outside for a while.
When I got back in, I overheard the following: “Jeez, Andrew, you’re gonna let an old lady do your work for you?”
Holy crap! When in God’s name did I become the “old lady”? I fear that I many vomit. It is technically true that I could be his mother – but still.
My Honey, bless him, offered to go beat him up for me. I may take him up on it. He’s pretty tough, for an old guy.
I’m wondering if I’ll be allowed a special dispensation on the horizontal
stripes on my prison jumpsuit. If I must wear one, horizontal stripes are completely out of the question. Vertical will work because they are slimming. Also, I’m
gonna have to say no on the orange, too. And just to make sure I can do it, I’ve been practicing the shuffley “perp” walk with the manacles.
Why am I planning my prison wardrobe? Because The Bandit is bound and determined to have me there. His behavior is another example of how boys and girls are different. Or at least, how my boy and girl are different. Sassy never had this phase. I’m calling it the “Shoplifting Phase”.
He and I were at the craft store the other day. He was frustrated because I wouldn’t buy him anything. I didn’t realize how frustrated he was until I noticed how strangely he was walking. Upon further investigation I found an entire box of Crayons shoved down his pants.
And in another example of petty larceny, My Honey discovered he’d used the five-finger discount to obtain a bunch of plastic animals from the party supply store.
Of course, we’ve had all the talks at various intensities and volumes, and he acts contrite – just like all the best sociopaths do. Nevertheless….
I really, really don’t like horizontal strips.
The examiner.com paid me $25.67. Isn’t that an adorable amount?
Every little bit of validation helps!
I’ll post something there tonight – hop on over and make me another couple of cents, will ya?
I didn’t post on Friday. I’m sorry about it. As you know, I try to post something everyday – at least Monday through Friday. There are some of you that are sorely disappointed when I don’t. I have an excuse – take it or leave it.
You remember that I’ve been a single mom this week with My Honey out of town. It seemed that everywhere I had to go this week, I had to get there driving Mach 10.
Drop the kids off at school, race to see my dad (who’s at the rehab hospital again), race to work (that’s where things slowed down to turtle speed), then leave work and race across town to get to Sassy before her after school program was over and pick up the Bandit before I had to pay the penalty of 1.00 per minute for being late. On Thursday, I had to do all the things above PLUS get to soccer practice that was cancelled. Of course, I never got home to get the message because who has time for that?
By the time Friday came around, I was pooped. I conned the kids into getting into their pajamas at 7:30 and snuggling in my bed. I slept for 12 hours. Shhhhhhhh…..do you hear angels weeping? It was glorious. 12 splendid hours of sleep.
Today, I took the kids to the zoo. We’re zoo members so we go fairly often. I
thought it would be a great day for the zoo – the weather was warm but not hot. Instead, it was an interesting day at the zoo. The polor bears and monkies were all AWOL. An ostrich was terrorizing the zebras, however the baby zebra was having a fantastic time running through the sprinklers. A South American bear was yanking the bushes and trees into his enclosure by sticking his hairy arm as far out of the bars as possible and grasping at anything he could reach.
But the most interesting thing of all, and a topic that has provided me hours of enjoyment explaining to my 5 & 7 year old, was the very randy giraffe that simply would not leave the lady giraffe alone. I am far from being a prude (please note my genre of choice) but I’d really rather not go into the ENORMOUS implement dangling between his legs, if you know what I mean. No matter where she wandered, he was right behind. Literally.
I love the zoo and all, but sometimes I’d really wish they’d make them wear pants.
First, if you’ve had a bad day or perhaps just need a giggle then head on over to The Bloggess. Read the post from April 20. I laughed so hard that I not only snorted but managed to have a complete asthma attack – and I don’t have asthma.
Also, My Honey is out of town this week. This is good and bad. Good because My Honey really needed a vacation. Bad because that leaves me alone to fend off both children and the Idiot Dog. So far there have been no visits by the police, the fire department, Animal Control, or Child Protective Services. I think I’m doing a hell of a job. I’m calling the Nobel committee and nominating several stay at home moms and dads I know. Or maybe the Vatican if I believed in saints and that nonsense.
Either way – I’m doing better than I thought I would. It seems they’re all paying attention to when my head is at its maximum level of tolerance before it explodes. Apparently, when Daddy is here, they don’t care if my head explodes.
But there have still been a few moments that have me wondering. For example, I was in the office after they had gone to sleep working on various things. I didn’t hear Bandit get up, but at some point he did. I know for sure because I didn’t put him to bed with a half-peeled orange and several short-bread cookies.
Also, there has been an infestation of fruit flies. Ewwwww, right? I kept looking in the kitchen for a missing banana or some other atrocity, but I couldn’t find anything. It was a total mystery until I realized that the damn little things seemed to be coming from the living room (?????). I discovered a mummified, half-eaten apple behind the green chair and about 75,000 fruit flies. The Bandit has been expressly forbidden from hiding behind the furniture and eating fruit. One would have thought that this would have been an implied rule, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned in my 7 years of intensive on the job training, there are no implied rules.
Anyhow the best news of all is that My Honey isn’t in Europe – only Missouri – so there is no way in hell I’m going to believe he can’t fly home due to the Ash Cloud.
From my daily calendar:
Albrecht Durer obtained the very first copyright in a special grant from Emperor Maximilian. He proclaimed his new right in the 1511 engraving Life of the Virgin,
Hold! You crafty ones, strangers to work, and pilferers of other men’s brains. Think not rashly to lay your thievish hands upon my works. Beware! Know you not that I have a grant from the most glorious Emperor Maximilian, that not one throughout the imperial dominion shall be allowed to print or sell fictitious imitations of these engravings? Listen! And bear in mind that if you do so, through spite or through covetousness, not only will your goods be confiscated, but your bodies also placed in mortal danger.
Perhaps I will use that copyright in my next historical.
How ironic is it if I steal another person’s copyright?
My father had his surgery on Thursday. He’s doing well, thankfully, but there were a few hiccups along the way. The hospital he’s staying at is REALLLLLLLLLLY big. Like many buildings in the Southwest, it’s not tall but rather wide. It’s only a one story building, but is spread out over acres and acres of land. After 8:30pm all of the doors are locked except the ones at the Emergency Room, but the visiting hours are 24/7 – so long as you come in through the Emergency doors. Here lies the problem: my father’s room is always in the exact opposite far corner than the Emergency Room, through miles and miles of twisting corridors. I measured my footsteps yesterday – it was 1,065 footsteps from the Emergency Room door to my father’s room. I looked that up on the Holy Grail of information, Google, and using the average stride as a measurement, 1087 strides is a mile. So just to go see him, I have to walk just shy of two miles – INSIDE THE HOSPITAL.
It’s a damn good thing I love him.
So, last night I got off work at 9:00pm and went to see him because there had been some issues when I saw him before work, and I wanted to make sure he was settled and alright or I would put on my Mama Bear suit and use it to kick the necessary butt in order to achieve that status. When I got there, at 9:45, he was much less agitated than earlier in the day, but he was complaining of a headache. You may recall that I’m the Queen of Headaches, so I offered to rub it away.
There I am, in a darkened observation room with five other patients surrounding a central nurses desk. I’m leaning over the bed, talking to him in a low voice and rubbing his temples and forehead. I’m also wearing my work clothes that clearly state where I’m employed. A nurse walks into the room and demands, “Are you family?” I repeat, she demands this in quite a snotty tone.
I was unable to resist a comeback. “Yes, I am. Do you really have a problem with strange people sneaking in here in the dark of night, walking two miles in to a patients room and rubbing their heads?”
She huffed and walked away.
I really hate asinine questions.
For those of you following the story, after many aggravating delays, my father finally had his surgery today. It took FOREVER but all went well so we’re all thinking positive thoughts.
The Bandit had his first soccer practice of the new season this afternoon. That little dude is just so cute out there. We moved him up a little in the age brackets because he was the only kid on his team last year that actually played during the games. The rest were dreaming or picking daisies or flinging themselves on the ground because they didn’t get the ball. His father and I are hoping that a little more competition will be a good thing for him.
Stay tuned for more silly tales from the soccer field, and we’re still looking for his bed. Sassy is getting very close to her two recitals – one with her after-school ballet program and the other with her Saturday ballet class. In one she’s an ant and the other a ball of cotton candy.
I’m getting ready to send the rest of the pages off to the agent that requested more of my novel. The Sisters Three are reading it again for the 7,589,126,579 time. I’m finding it a little boring this time. Truly, it has lost its appeal. We can’t even be objective about it anymore.