Oh, glorious Friday! Why can’t every other day be Friday? No work for two more days, and I couldn’t be happier.

I will be so glad when we turn our clocks back this Sunday (not that we’re going to get up at 2 am and do it, you understand). Every morning as I drive into work the sun is at the perfect level to shine right into my eyes, trying it’s damnedest to burn holes in my retinas. Sunglasses don’t help, and the visor doesn’t hang low enough to block the sun. The only solution I’ve come up with is to stare down at the bumper of the person in front of me rather than directly into the sun.

The worst part is when I’m sitting at the red light to turn left to go down the street our office building is on. The sun is to the left of the light. I have to take quick little peeks every few seconds to check the light color, and by the time the light turns green, I have tiny dark spots in the middle of my vision, which makes me panic that I’m about to go blind.

And going blind would just suck.

From the "Holy Cow" files: Al from Nova Notes linked to me! I was checking out my brand new shiny nedstat page, and saw the referral. I was so excited, I ran up to Fred’s office and danced around as I told him about it. Pretty exciting stuff, that.

The spud is going to be a vampire for Halloween (hey, she’s only 11, she’s got a few years before she’s too old!). Luckily, she chose an easy costume. Black turtleneck, black leggings, cape, slicked-back hair, black lips, fake blood, fake teeth, and she’s all set. I guess Fred is going to accompany her door to door, and I’ll sit at home and run up and down the stairs to dole out the candy. Which I haven’t bought yet, so tomorrow it will be an early-morning trip to (can you guess?) Wal-Mart for the spud and I.

Speaking of the spud — and Wal-Mart, actually — she informed us late yesterday afternoon that in lieu of a Halloween party at school today, they would have a "hoe-down" party, and everyone should dress farmer-like. Oh, she knew about this for days beforehand, but didn’t bother telling me about it until the very last moment. Sadly, we didn’t really have anything farmer-like around the old homestead, and so Fred took her to Wal-Mart. It’s my policy that if she waits until the night before to let me know she needs something that requires a special trip, she’s pretty much shit out of luck. I don’t "do" the last-minute dash to Wal-Mart at 9pm. Yes, I am a horrible bitch of a mother, but she knows the rules. Fred, however, is a big softy. They went out and bought a flannel shirt, a couple of red bandanas, and a way-too-big pair of jeans (Fred didn’t know the spud’s size, and consequently purchased a size 14 when a 10 probably would have done).

This is what she ended up looking like:

Spud Hoe-Down

She looks mighty pink in this picture, but I swear, aside from the freckles she put on with a brown marker, she’s not wearing makeup. If you look over her right shoulder, you’ll see the Titanic picture Fred won on Ebay. An online friend had a friend who took Leo out of the pictures and put his (Fred’s friend) picture in it’s place. I think Fred ended up bidding around $12 for it. It’s pretty funny, and I’ll think about taking a closeup picture of it sometime soon. It’s hanging over Fred’s computer, which is located directly across the room from mine. We’re a three-computer family, and that’s the way we like it.