* that Watson IBM thing on Jeopardy was stupid. I am such a die-hard Jeopardy fan, and you know I belong to the Ken and Brad fan club. So it sorta headached me, is what I’m saying. Gimme a real game, not an avatar.

* Steve is at work; Wacky Boy and i are home with colds (sore throats, coughs, fatigue, and perhaps just a general sense of ennui)

* They bring Brenda back to GH, I’m over the moon cuz she’s always been one of my favorite characters, and what? they’re going to kill her off now, instead of having her marry Sonny? Cussin’ writers. Do it right, writers, i mean it.

* I have tendonitis from my library work (and facebook, and too much mousing, and from typing too fast. i’m like, crazy-fast typist). It goes up my right arm, stopping for a special pocket of pain in the elbow (i think it’s cussin’ bursitis or something, too? I smacked my funny bone — NOT FUNNY — a month ago and it is still swollen and tender), then travels all the way up my shoulder, down into where my shoulder bone’s attached to my/back bone, then up the right side of my neck, up and over my ear, into my jaw (thank you, TMJ, you suck, too) and into my head.

What does this all mean? I hurt all the cussin’ time. and it hurts to type. and you know i love to type (see: work stuff — required by law; e-mails; FB; my book; various writing projects and yes, blog). it pains me to type. it pains me to say that. it pains me to mouse mouse blip all day, too, at work. (checking in/checking out.) it pains me to carry around large boxes/armfuls of books, dishes, laundry, and i can’t grip sometimes with my right hand. it also hurts to just write longhand (see: journal, pen, propped up with pillows, ow).

i write, therefore i am i write, therefore i am i write, therefore i am i write, therefore i am i write, therefore i am

honestly, I can’t blame this on middle age. I’ve been dealing with some of this crap (thyroid, girl problems) since i was a kid. and yes, i know i need to go in for physical therapy, but i am scared. I just worked up the nerve last week finally to go in and get my bloodwork done (again) for thyroid. I LOVE my (now-former) doctor, she was amazing. she also had this great practice with four or five other doctors. I saw most of them, in the few years I’ve been going to her, and they’re all as great as she is.

However. They’re in north Portland, and we now live on West Side. Fancy West Side. And I haven’t been willing to start with someone new. I love my doctor so much. She has two kids my kids’ age, and she’s from the neighborhood, and she can handle anything (see: thyroid, see: wacky heart, see: follow-up on surgery, see: bronchial pneumonia, see: flu shots; see: general bitchiness). This doctor would never randomly cut into me on a Monday morning, is what I’m saying.

I found a new doctor. They’re nice. They took my blood and only bruised me up a little. My one “good” vein collapsed years ago. My “second-best” vein is nearing collapse. To cheer me up, the phlebotomist told me awhile back, We can just take it from behind your knee if that one collapses.

Because that’s just what sounds good — a needle coming in at ya from behind the knee.

So when i am being a big baby and refusing PT? Too. Many. Issues.

xoxoxoxo

me

Great show. Julianna Margulies, Archie Panjabi (who plays Kalinda), Big (Chris Noth), Josh Charles, Alan Cumming, Scott Porter (Jason Street from “Friday Night Lights”) and… some of the actors from “The Wire,” too, man, i am happy with this show. Watching from the beginning of season one, and tivo’ing season two and watching that, too.

it’s raining so hard right now in my neighborhood that everything’s flooding. i had to ford a couple of rivers to get home, and my clothes were soaked by the time we walked through the front door. I don’t mind the rain in Oregon, mostly, but when it’s dark at 3 o’clock in the afternoon, and everyone’s driving twice as fast as they should, and you have the windshield wipers on swish-swish-swish superfast, well. It gets a little intense. Then when the winds start, and the trees start coming down, or when the ground is so soaked they just get uprooted… it’s creepy. A big tree by my work split in half and is gone now, nothing left but logs in the front yard.

OK, let’s lighten it up.

Here’s a poem for you. (Substitute “winter” for “spring.”)

Spring Rain
Marchette Chute

My hair is wet, my feet are wet,
I couldn’t be much wetter.
I fell into a river once
But this is even better.”

How about some cooky recipes? Chewy Chocolate Cookies? Peppermint Candy Canes? Sugar Cookies? Stone Jar Molasses Cookies? Rainbow Walnut Slice and Apricot Pastries? MMMMMMMMMMM. (Still not baking. This is the first holiday season ever when i haven’t baked.) I always think of my late friend, the dear, dear Terry Olson, whenever I post recipes. Fewer recipes/more politics was his motto.

did i mention that i like library work so much? it’s good. here’s a funny YouTube video, you’ll like it, i promise:

here’s what is going on this weekend, and it’s all good:

1) since i’m taking a break from classes for, oh, the foreseeable future, I have some free time.

2) we bought PacMan Party and Just Dance 2 for the Wii and omg — we’re all four having so much fun. Especially with the old arcade games (PacMan, Galaga, Dig Dug). Our sweet little neighbor kid was over — he and Wacky Girl danced like mad to “Proud Mary” and it was so fun. “Soooooooooooo fun,” as my son would say.

3) Last night the four of us played Apples to Apples and it’s our new favorite family game (besides Wii). We giggled and just hung out.

4) Today I’m making Black Bean Soup, Asian Noodle Salad, and cornbread, three of our old favorites. (Corn Casserole actually sounds better, but plain cornbread with honey and butter will be more kid-friendly.)

5) i’m trying so so soooooooooooooo hard to not bake Christmas cookies and it is killing me. (just fyi.) (Edited on Tuesday to say: I don’t have to bake ’em — BlogHer is doing it for me. Ha.)

cha-cha-cha.

xo

wm

“Why worry when you can obsess?”

and

“The hardest year of marriage is the one you’re currently in.”

Have truer words ever been spoken?

Also, homework should be outlawed.

buh-bye.

— wm

It was from one of my editors, when I worked at the university newspaper. and once he realized that i loved every single one of these songs even more than he did… he said…

“Awww, Nancy, just go on and keep it, cuz at least you were honest about it.”

And… the thief is rewarded for her honesty, once again.

Here’s a partial songlist, I’ll add more as they come to me (naw, they’re not in the same order they were on the tape):

“The Race is On, “George Jones (not the stinkin’ Grateful Dead version, bleeeeeeeeeech)

a bunch of nasty songs by Bessie Smith that were sooooooooo good. (these ones don’t show up on YouTube, sorry ;)

“Milk Cow Blues” and “Stay All Night (Stay a Little Longer)”, Bob Wills and His Texas Playboys

“I Couldn’t Believe it Was True,” Willie Nelson

“Crazy” and/or “Walking After Midnight” (can’t remember for sure), Patsy Cline

“Bartender’s Blues,” by George Jones

“Take This Job and Shove It,” by Johnny Paycheck

“My Bucket’s Got a Hole In It,” Hank Williams

“If You Got the Money,” by Merle Haggard

just got this message:

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Sorry, something went wrong.

A team of highly trained monkeys has been dispatched to deal with this situation.
If you see them, show them this information:

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earlier, i thought i wasn’t smart enough for grad school. but right now, i think i am.

think.

no more tears, i’m done with them. awwwwww who had a Bad Day?

“Writing is a way of talking without being interrupted.” — Jules Renard, author (1864-1910)

don’t i know it.

so, we attempted to enjoy a day at the beach yesterday. here’s the thing about the Oregon coast — it is what it is. times 100. so even when you know that it’s going to be blustery and cold, it’s still nice to take a not-too-long drive and get there, just for the sake of breathing the salt air. (from our new place, it’s 71.5 miles to the nearest beach — less than 2 hours by car, and I really do wish the trains still ran to the beach. i’ve heard tales and it sounds so good.)

all i wanted to do, with my one little measly day off, was walk on the beach (we brought our boots and raincoats), breathe in the good, wet air, have a bite of lunch somewhere, do a little window shopping at one of the chi-chi overpriced boutiques (seashell assortment, anyway? fudge? ice cream? Christmas ornaments shaped like ugly little elves?) then drive home.

but Hockey God and Hockey God Jr. had a different plan, namely, horse around in the ocean, get run over by a sneaker wave and almost die.

I like my plan better.

Also, this is where I really, really hate the whole “parenting together” thing. So when my son, soaking wet, sandy, exhilarated because they didn’t die, isn’t that great? told me, “Dad said you were going to punch him in the face for this…” well, OK. Let’s slow this down for a minute.

1) I’m glad they didn’t die and wow, that really is great, sweetheart. However…
2) If they hadn’t been reckless in the first place, this wouldn’t have cussin’ been an issue (see: a) don’t turn your back on the ocean b) stay out of the ocean pretty much Oct-April in Oregon and Washington c) why don’t you ever listen to me? You don’t see sneaker waves getting mommy, do you, now? d) aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargggggggggh)
3) they now have new sweatpants (thank you, overpriced gift shop!) and really awesome matching bright red sweatshirts and T-shirts. Hockey God’s says:

Cannon Beach
Established 1890
Oregon
Search & Rescue
Mouth to Mouth Certified

(which is hilarious! because he’s not.)

Jr.’s says:

Cannon Beach Oregon
Beach Patrol
Off-Duty
Save Yourself

That is more fitting somehow, no? Anyway, I don’t think I really should have rewarded them with a way to commemorate the whole cussin’ thing, but they were both nearly-drowned rats, I had to get them some warm stuff to wear. And no, I didn’t punch Hockey God in the face. On the one hand, I’m glad that he and the kids take some risks, live a little, blah blah blah. But there’s being adventuresome, and then there’s being unnecessarily reckless. I hugged my son, and told him, “You, I care about. Daddy, I don’t.”

My daughter: “Mom! That is not very nice!”
My husband: “You really are the meanest wife.” (looks worried.) “Are you going to punch me now?” (offers up his arm.) “Here! Punch me here! Just get it over with.”

I cried a little, then I calmed down and told my husband that if one of my kids (mine, not his, just mine. Cuz I’m the one who carried them for nine months, nursed them and kept them alive, they’re my babies til the day I die, mine, mine, mine) ends up harmed or worse because of his recklessness, then he had better go ahead and drown himself before he comes home. Cuz I can’t guarantee his safety.

That’s fair, isn’t it?

OK. Deep breaths.

— wm

putting myself to bed after Wednesday night class (four hours, all scintillating.) (no, i’m not being “sarcastic,” i mean it.) is going to be really really tough.

so it’s now 11:16 p.m. and i have to go to bed! OK??? OKAY!

ps Steve’s blog post about Dylan got hijacked by a Japanese blog today and for some reason that just made my day. yeah, i’m easy to please.

From my desk calendar, Aug. 21-22, 2010: “I went to college for this?”

Hahahahaha… wait. That’s not funny. But I am. I am your Daily Bitch. Only lately it’s not daily, is it, you poor lil deprived things. Sorry. I’m busy! Watering the yard takes up a lot of time.

I started my new job. My boss is great. Generally I don’t blog about work because, you know. Dooce. (Or as I like to call her, “My little Doocey-woocey.”) You know her, the founder of the expression: “Be ye not so stupid.” Well, who’s laughing now, Internet? Dooce writes about work all day long.

So. With that little disclaimer out of the way… My boss is v. cool. She is Cool 7.0, or possibly Cool 10.0 and I am looking forward to this school year. As my old roommate used to say, “If anyone deserves to be happy, it’s me.” My response, “No, me!” Him: “Me!!!!” etc.

Also I found a ton of new books (including a crateful donated by my Wacky Kids) and I spent the whole day getting the books into the database, bar-coded, with fresh jackets and their little ID stamps, “Property of Wacky Mommy’s New School.” And a fair amount of tape was involved. Mostly I went into liberry work so I can play with tape, stampers and kids all day. Not in that order. The stampers probably are the most critical component for me. Ha! I jest! I’m in it for the love bucks from the students, pure and simple.

So. What’s up, Internet? How’s my girls? And guy? What you may or may not know about me is that I take copious notes. I have hypergraphia, I’m pretty sure. My notepad of choice: My left hand.

Right now it says:

hamster fud
charge Netbook
prom. note
checkbook

That’s right! Cuz in addition to going back to work today (after more than 2 long, glorious months spent in the garage, sorting through my grandma’s china, my other grandma’s “Arkansas Crystal” and… if you haven’t read this post yet, you should, cuz it really sums up my mom’s side of The Family…

(My daughter, “Mom, are you going anywhere with this?”) (Yes, I am.) (Seriously, that’s her new line, she kills me.)

I start grad school on Wednesday. Any school, any place, any time, they should just type a little note at the bottom of the first letter they send you, and that note should say:

plz bring your checkbook!

So I am taking out loans, and a Promissory Note is in order. Hmm. Can I promise what I’ll give them if we re-neg?

* Arkansas Crystal
* the “good slides”
* the 20-year-old truck. It’s paid for!
* and I’ll bake them some Mexican wedding cakes and a Chocolate Volcano Cake.

That should do it, don’t you think?

ttfn,

your friend,

wm