Also, why the fuck has no one nominated me for the Happiest Blog award?

Q: So. How you doin’?

A: Good. Except I’m trying to stuff all these old entries into categories. I have, uh, 327 to go? I am so screwed over here. Why did I not do this before? Every time I read other people’s blogs I’d think, oooh, looky! They have these neat little category thingys. How do you do that? Then I’d la-di-da away from the computer. Why?

Q: Cuz you’re a dingbat?

A: Is that a question?

Q: No, not really. How was dinner?

A: Good, good. We had dinner with friends. I mean, grown-up friends. Actually, it was terrible.

Q: The food?

A: No, the food was great. We’ve been going to a place called Pause, this pub over on North Interstate Ave. Burgers, great pastas, starters, soups, yummy desserts. Decent service, nice setting. We met there. Our friends just moved — they have no kitchen. They’re remodeling. So they have to eat out every meal now — it’s like they’re pretending we live in Manhattan or something.

Q: So it was the company?

A: NO, OH MY GOD. WE HAD DINNER WITH OTHER GROWN-UPS. They’re nice. Smart. Know how to put, you know, sentences together. And stuff.

Q: It was the kids, wasn’t it?

A: THEY’RE MONSTERS. Not theirs — ours. Their kids are great. Ours won’t eat. They crawl under the table. They crawl on the table. They throw things. They spill things. They run around and annoy other diners. I’ve turned into one of those horrible parents who’s all, “honey, sit down honey, please honey,” and looks like she’s just donated her BRAIN or something. Wacky Boy grabbed my friend’s beer and tried to take a big gulp of it. My friend is all, “That’s not yours, guy,” and Wacky Boy is all, “I want beer.” LIKE WE GIVE HIM BEER WHENEVER HE ASKS FOR IT. We don’t.

Q: What’s his favorite toy?

A: (silence)

Q: Spill it. What is it?

A: His father’s Homer Simpson beer opener.

Q: The talking one?

A: Yes, it’s the talking one. It says, “Ummmmmm, beer, YES, OH YES! WOO-HOOOOO!” when you use it.

Q: You are the worst mother I’ve ever met. Interview OVER.

Dear kind readers,

I am running girl all week this week, but wanted to post quickly to say SORRY!!! WE ARE SORRY! to those of you who received an error message when you called up the site earlier, or were re-directed to Hockey God’s site. (Yeah, a clever ploy to steal my readers… Ha! It did not work! Or maybe it did, I have no idea.)

Anyway — a lot of smut mail is sprinkled throughout these entries — computer glitch. So please ignore and do not think I am endorsing these various illegal drugs, ringtones or penile implants. I’m deleting them as I find them. Whew, Nellie! There are a lot of people out there causing trouble.

I’m not one of them.

Please send along love/suggestions for the new design, if you have any.

Kisses,

WM

I was at a school meeting all day today — it was excellent, all about various learning styles and how to get parents motivated, two of my favorite topics — and when I got home I found out Hockey God had redecorated.

My entire blog, that is.

I’m liking it in here! The banquettes are comfier, the new paint looks good, the carpet is squooshy… Heh heh. It really does feel like that sometimes, blogging. Like it’s a genie’s bottle I climb into and run my own talk show or something. While I’m jumping up and down on the cushions and no one’s screaming, “STOP!!!” at me.

So what do you think? If you don’t like it, that’s cool. Because I love it enough for both of us. Ha! Please leave a comment if there’s anything funky that isn’t working right for you.

Also we’ve switched over to WordPress and I must say, it’s a lot easier to use than Pivot was. (Fond as I was of Pivot.) Something about needing a new server, my excessive popularity blowing out our bandwidth, burning down the house, blah blah. If you’re into the geeky/techie stuff go check with my partner in crime because I just don’t get it.

I’ll talk to you about learning styles all day long, though. Turns out I’m a Visual Learner, as well as an Auditory Learner and a Kinesthetic (Physical) Learner.

No wonder I can’t keep shit straight.

Reviewed today:

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For my Thursday Thirteen (helloooooooooo everyone!) Wacky Mommy, Advisor to the Would-Be Stars presents:

THIRTEEN REASONS YOU SHOULD NOT GO ON “AMERICAN IDOL” (and I’m not joking here, people):

13. Most of you are unable to keep your breasts inside your bedazzled halter tops.

12. You don’t know how to pick songs to save your ass.

11. Your asses (speaking of) are not shakin’ nearly as well as that girl’s in the opening credits of “Las Vegas.” That is some ass-shaking, there.

10. Simon is a jerk. Paula is drunk. Randy is unpredictable. Ryan doesn’t give enough hugs.

9. Your kids need you at home. (Did you catch the guy who missed THE BIRTH OF HIS BABY GIRL because he was waiting to audition? AND HIS WIFE SEEMED TO BE OK WITH THIS. Good thing for him the judges said “yay.”)

8. Your wardrobe needs to consist of something a little more, I don’t know, telegenic? Khaki: nope. Dirty T-shirt: nopey-nope. Jeans that don’t really fit: triple-nope.

7. They won’t let you bring your dog to howl back-up. And I know you won’t leave home without him.

6. There are other ways to become a star.

5. You need to give more attention to your blog.

4. And the dog.

3. Really, do you need to break your parents’ hearts? No, I did not think so.

2. Your acting is much better than your singing.

1. You’re just not that damn good.

Dear Internet,

I’m on a mission. It’s political. It’s messy. It possibly involves the purchase of two or three large inflatable toys. I cannot discuss it here, for reasons of neighborhood and possibly national security, but if you live in Portland, Ore., and are a musician, artist, gardener, or just a person who wants to get involved, e me and we’ll talk.

Vague enough? Intriguing enough? Also I think I’m going to need help from both the No War Drum Corps and the Nation of Islam on this one.

Ciao,

WM

PS — How about some recipes? With all this political organizing, we have little time for cooking around here. Thus, three fast ones…

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If you’re wondering where I am today, read this. It’s from April 26, 2005, but it’s still the same old shit. Don’t be a Bad Samaritan.

More tomorrow.

Yours as always,

WM

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My kids have attended school eight out of the last 31 days. Eight. No wonder I can’t get their lazy little behinds out of bed.

The missed days have been because of snow, threat of snow, holiday break, various teacher planning days and MLK’s birthday. The only education that has occurred here at all was around the MLK holiday, aka The Day I Spend Crying, because I start thinking about Dr. King, which makes me think of Malcolm, and they were both the most rockingest guys… and now what do I tell my kids? “Stand up for what you believe in and you might be killed”? Yes, that is what I tell them. I tell them it’s worth the risk, even if it means you leave your little children behind. I tell them that Malcolm and Dr. King both were awesome fathers, and they wanted a much, much better world for their little babies. I tell them that is what all parents need to do. Make the world safe and fair and better. And then fix dinner. Amen.

I tell them, “You can die on your feet or live on your knees” when they ask me, “How come they got shot, if they were right?” and “Are you crying again?” The sermon on Sunday at church was about Dr. King’s thoughts on almost giving up — I’ll try to track down the text, it was incredible. Have you ever heard it? He’d had a rough day, was just climbing into bed with his wife, who was already asleep, when the phone rang, and someone was on the other end, threatening him and his family. Again.

So he made a pot of coffee and sat awake, in the middle of the night, worrying, protecting his family. And trying to come up with some reasons to go on fighting for civil rights. For human rights. He finally decided, I have to — if I falter, my followers will falter. He did not falter.

We do need to keep fighting, even if we’re struggling with the words, and the emotions, along the way.

For this week’s Thursday Thirteen — just when you needed them…

THIRTEEN TIMELY QUOTES

13. “The giraffe you thought you offended last week is willing to be nuzzled today.” — anon.

12. “I loathe people who keep dogs. They are cowards who haven’t got the guts to bite people themselves.” — August Strindberg

11. “Love is a snowmobile racing across the tundra, which suddenly flips over, pinning you underneath. At night the ice weasels come.” — Matt Groening, “Love is Hell”

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