this, all I can say is, it’s a crapshoot. Sometimes you do little work and end up with the best kid in the world and sometimes you work your ass off with the disciplining and teaching right from wrong, and you still end up with a monster.
Fortunately, I ended up with the former.
It’s not always wonderful and it’s not always horrible – for the most part it’s a mix, and sometimes it’s horrible for days with the occasional dash of wonderful, and sometimes it’s vice versa. And you never know in advance which it’s going to be.
‘Cause that’s just life.
* * *
Furio from
The Sopranos:
Strongly reminds me of Data from
Star Trek: The Next Generation:
Discuss.
* * *
I have a million zillion things to do today, and I feel like I don’t have time to do them all, although that’s silly. I have a hair appointment at 9:30, have to go by the spud’s school and pick up her schedule, go to the post office, come home and write out the bills that will come due while I’m gone, try to run the vacuum over the downstairs, print out the postcard labels, give Miz Poo lots of love, and god knows what else I need to do.
Okay, I’m off to have my hair cut and colored. Ah’ll be bahk.
* * *
And now I’m back. I just spent half an hour adding people to the
Go Fuck Yourself ‘burb. The first order of business when I get back from Maine is to put that page in some kind of order, ’cause it’s just a mess with people listed willy-nilly, and my inner organization queen is having a fit.
(I just drown her in chocolate and ignore her most of the time)
I picked up the spud’s schedule for next year and wrote out a
$175 check for school fees and the like. Did my parents have to pay that much in school fees when I was a kid, or is it just because we live in Yuppietown and the spud is in band?
Lordy.
* * *
We went to the lake by UAH to feed ducks over the weekend. At one point I looked up and saw this coming toward me:
Unfortunately, the little bitty babies are faster than they look, and I wasn’t quick enough to grab one and cuddle it and love it forever.
Before we fed the ducks and geese, though, we settled down to eat our lunch. I had to keep a wary eye on this guy, though:
Because he kept panting at us and wagging his tail, and I just KNEW that if I didn’t keep an eye on him, he’d come over and nip at my ass. I also made sure to occasionally say “You back OFF, mister!” in my Mean Momma tone. Luckily, it worked.
* * *
I was reading magazines last night, since I’m trying to catch up on my magazine reading before I go to Maine (though I don’t think it’s going to happen), and I came across a picture that made me laugh out loud. It was a picture of Julia Roberts and whatshisface, Mr. Julia Roberts, walking along, and the expression on her face, well, I’ll let you judge for yourself.
At first glance she looks perfectly normal, but look closer, and I think the word I’m looking for is “crazed”, because that by hell is a crazed expression she’s got going on. Hee!
Damn do I love
US. When it was a monthly and then went to a weekly magazine, I hated it and thought it sucked, but now I think it’s better than even
People or
Entertainment Weekly.
* * *
Speaking of the entertainment world, we were talking about Katie Couric last night in bed (not in a pervy way. We were both fully dressed, so get your minds out of the gutter), and Fred said something about the colonoscopy Katie Couric had done some years back.
“When are you supposed to start getting those regularly?” I asked. “40? 45?”
“I think it’s more like 50,” Fred said.
“She was NOT 50 when she had it done!” I said.
“No, she had it done younger because of Frank.”
“Frank?” I said, confused (ie, my normal state of mind)
“Yeah, Frank Gifford. He died of colon cancer, right?”
“Okay, first of all she wasn’t married to Frank Gifford, that was Kathie Lee, and secondly FRANK GIFFORD ISN’T DEAD!”
“Oh.”
But I couldn’t leave it alone. “She was married to Jay Monahan. And they had two little girls, one of whom is named Ellie.”
You know what I’d like to know? I’d like to know WHY ON EARTH Katie Couric’s late husband’s name and the name of her little girl are burned into my memory. Why? Will I ever need that information again? Can I delete it and replace it with something more important like the location of Liberia and Libya? Please?
* * *
Alrighty, it’s time for lunch, so I’m going to go eat and then pay bills and do the ten thousand things I still need to do before I leave tomorrow. Expect entries to resume around August 4th (though it could be a day or two later). I’ll try to post to the notify list at least a few times while I’m in Maine. Until then, y’all behave yourselves. If you can’t behave yourselves, email and tell me all about it.
And if I die in a huge fiery crash on my way to Maine, you can comfort yourselves with the knowledge that my last word was probably “FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!”]]>