Dear Hormones,

I hate you. You suck. You have always sucked my entire life, since I “became a woman,” since I “started with the thyroid problems” since I “had the two 10-pound kids and reeled back, slammed against the wall, never recovering even five years later.”

Breast feeding? Pregnancies? Miscarriages? Bloodwork every two months because my thyroid is still out of whack, even though it was removed in 1992, when I was 27 years old and technically… Should. Not. Be. Causing. Trouble. Still.

Also, hormones, you mess with my writing and everything comes out crazy.

If it wasn’t for you, I’d be running for President, not Hillary Clinton. (Does she have hormones? I think not. Otherwise, Bill Clinton and Monica Lewinsky would be charred in a house somewhere, left behind as burn victims. She would claim to know nothing about it.)

Leave me be, hormones. I have things to do.

Hatefully yours, until menopause (and hopefully that will be the end of it),

WM

“You Are As You Are”
— by Rumi

“You do not resemble anyone.
You are not the bride or the groom.

You do not fit in a house with anyone.
You have left the closed-in corner
where you lived. Domestic animals
get ridden to work. Not you.

You are as you are,
an indescribable message on the air.”

(This is a mad attempt to get the Rona Jaffe Foundation to find me. They do not except unsolicited applications or nominations. Pick me! Please. Bitte. Por favor.)

(Although I notice there are no 2006 award recipients on the site. Hmm.)

Heh heh heh. (None of these are mine. I swear!)

(Thanks to Hollygirl at Nothing But Bonfires.)

Reviewed today:

Little reviews today — only one kid is home, the girl is at Grandma’s. The boy wants to blow up my computer. Must post, post-haste… (more…)

Were you wondering what it’s like to get a mammogram? Here’s an illustrated post for you from a little pregnant.

People, it is no fun to have no electricity when the temperature has soared to 102. We had no power from 4:30-9:30 p.m. yesterday. For the Thursday Thirteen, here is what we did: (more…)

Hello, Product Slut here.

I am not a hot-hot weather fan. Warm, yes… balmy, definitely… but not 102 degrees hot. Who likes it that hot? No one is who. Whenever the weather’s unbearably warm (air-conditioning? in my house? ha ha ha) and I’m grouchy I just have to remember one thing: Our anniversary is in two months.

It was hot the day we were wed. Because my husband is smokin’ that’s why! It was weather-hot and sexy husband hot. One of my favorite wedding gifts was from a dear former co-worker of mine. It’s called Happily Ever After: Couples Talk About Lasting Love, by Laurie Wagner, Stephanie Rausser and David Collier (Chronicle Books, 159 pages). It’s based on Collier’s film “For Better or For Worse.” It’s a sweet book, romantic and honest. It’s a good one for me to pick up and re-read, and reminds me of that wedding day of ours, nine years ago this September.

I played at the mall with the kids today — we saw the Nancy Drew movie, totally fun, and had lunch. I bought them some little goodies (and I’m enjoying this time, believe me, because it doesn’t take much to keep them happy. Teen years we may not get by so easy).

The other day? They both were thrilled because we’d filled out their summer reading logs and they nabbed two free books from Barnes & Noble. The theme is “Magic Treehouse” and that’s my son’s favorite series ever. Perfect-o. (Only complaint: I wish they’d extend the program to all ages — baby through 18 — and not limit it to school-age kids.)

We got home to no power, crashed, hot ‘n’ bothered computer servers, two limp, miserable cats, but no matter! I got a sample of the new Venus Breeze razor and loads of coupons. (Thank you, Vocalpoint! Keep sending those goodies my way. Go sign up yourself if you want in.) I didn’t buy even one thing for myself at the mall, but who cares? Freebies rock.

But was that all? Oh, no. Also in the mailbag, I had a little box with wee baby goodies from the Thymes Sweetleaf Baby collection — soap, a washcloth, babywash and lotion. So squee and yummy and I’m really happy I don’t have a selfish little baby who wants to share because they’re mine, mine, mine.

Babies are so selfish. They get all the gifts, don’t they?

Oh, my kids, right. OK. I’ll share the babywash with them, but not the rest.

Was that all? No. Thymes is out of Minneapolis, and I love Minneapolis. I will give anyone from there a promo any damn time at all. Woo-hooooooooo, Minnesota! Land of 10,000 Lakes!!! Which is not giving them enough credit, because it’s actually around 15,000 lakes! Along with the baby goodies and tucked away in a separate box was a whole set of tiny little samples. Again — all for me. Because they know I love tiny samples. Thymes makes a whole line of products for bath, body and home. They want to make everyone happy, not just the selfish little babies.

The scents are just over-the-moon and I’m being honest here — I’m not too keen on strong scents. But I took a few for a test drive — Kimono Rose body creme, Persian Pear hand lotion, Azur body milk, Wild Ginger body lotion, oh yum. I smell so yummy. The scents are light, and I’ve got some aroma-therapy going here.

Life is bliss. Carry on.

You may have noticed our sites disappeared for a few hours there — another major power outage in North Portland, Ore. It was 102 or something today, so we amped out. Seven hundred houses around us lost power, and another 2,500 in Happy Valley, I heard. But we’re back up and good now so thanks for your patience — I’ll post tomorrow.

kisses,

WM

Even though Vicki Phillips has left for the Gates Foundation, we’re still stuck with the mess she’s left behind for Portland Public Schools. We have some K-8 schools; some that don’t fit the mold; Jefferson High School, my neighborhood school, still in shambles (but they can spring for astro-turf at Grant. Go, Generals! You’re right, you do deserve the best, ya idiots); they’re possibly adding on to Lincoln (hell yes, Lincoln Needs Money and More, More, More) (I’m being sarcastic, is it transmitting?), etc.

Let’s go back a few years. A long, long time ago, I didn’t have kids. And I didn’t know much about schools, like many of you. I always cared, though. So I always voted for the school funding measures, and I even volunteered at the public schools once in awhile. (They’d ask me to come in sometimes and talk with the kids about How I Became a Writer.)

At the back of my mind, always, I’m thinking, “Who’s going to be cath-ing me when I’m old? Who’s going to be working at the nursing home? Will they talk Kerouac with me?” I was the first person in my family to graduate from college. I had to fight hard to finish. I worked two or three jobs the entire time I was in school and graduated debt-free, thankyouverymuch. (My aunt brought up the number of grads in my family to two a few years ago! Yay, auntie! And my cousin graduated this spring! Go, us! That’s three college graduates. Plus one who just finished nursing school! I was raised by wolves, people, but it’s OK. I’ve learned to deal.) School is important to me, and always has been.

My Mom had a little mantra for me that she started chanting when I was three years old. Or maybe two. “First you’ll graduate from grade school, then you’ll graduate from high school, then you’ll graduate from college!” Oh, OK. And she and my Dad set aside enough money to pay for my first year, so I had to go! (See what happens when you expect things from your kids?)

We need decent, strong, free public schools in this world, especially for those students who aren’t getting a lot of encouragement or money from the homefront. Not everyone has parents who are pushing them.

I had a stepson, sort of, lo these many years ago. When my live-in boyfriend and I broke up, I kept visiting rights with his son, so I got a little glimpse into the Portland Public School system at that time. (He’s 21 now.) (more…)