Couldn’t Keep it to Myself. Finished this morning, sitting in the waiting room (see the next section): One Coffee With. Love that Margaret Maron, but I have to say that so far (this is only the first book in the Sigrid Harald series) I prefer her Deborah Knott books.
* * *
So, Fred has now been officially neutered. And who would bring a camera to a vasectomy? That’s right, MY HUSBAND. He did an entry about it, even –
read it at your own risk. There’s one picture that made me scream and run around in circles (skip his entry if you have a weak stomach, or are eating), but if you scroll to the bottom you get to see… well, his bottom. For a while when we were sitting in the waiting room there were several other men sitting in the waiting room with us, and I said to Fred, “I imagine this is how a man sitting in a gynecologist’s waiting room must feel.”
He’s upstairs taking a nap right now; hopefully he’ll recover quickly (he always does) and will be fine come Monday morning.
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I don’t think I mentioned the fact that I bought tickets to Maine this summer for the spud and I. Independence Air was having a kick-ass sale – tickets were $79 one-way – so I got round-trip tickets from here to Maine for myself, AND a one-way ticket for the spud from Maine to here (she’s flying to California at the end of May, spending three weeks there, and then flying to Rhode Island to spend a few weeks with her father, then going up to Maine for a while before I fly up there, and then she’s flying back with me) for less than $300 altogether.
That’s pretty damn good, if you ask me.
When she goes out to California, she’s flying… United? Continental? One of those, because Independence Air doesn’t fly to the
O.C. They fly to L.A, but the amount of money we’d have saved on the tickets would have been negated by her grandparents having to make a longer trip to a bigger airport.
This will be the first year the spud is required to get herself from one gate to another during a layover in… Ohio? Atlanta? I don’t remember where the layover is, and I’m too lazy to go look at the itinerary. So the idea of her getting from one gate to the other has me a little worried, but luckily she has a two-hour layover, and I’ll drill it into her head that if she can’t find where she needs to go, she should ask a FEMALE in a uniform for help.
(That’s right, males. I just dissed your entire gender! I’m going to teach my child that you cannot be trusted to help a cute 16 year-old girl find her gate BECAUSE IT’S BETTER TO BE SAFE THAN SORRY.)
And if nothing else, she’ll have her cell phone with her, and she can call me, and I can scream and run around in circles and overreact, before I look up a map of the airport online and tell her where to go.
On the up side, she has a nonstop flight from California to Rhode Island, so I won’t have to worry quite so much when she takes that flight.
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Hey, look! It’s Badass Southpark Robyn!
Make your own,
here.
* * *
Hey. Has anyone read anything by Ayelet Waldman? I watched the Oprah show she was on the other day, and she seemed really likeable, and defended
her essay pretty well, I thought.
I know this is absolute blasphemy and I’ll probably get strung from the nearest tree, but I tried reading
The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay by her husband – Michael Chabon – and got about thirty pages in before I was so incredibly bored that I gave myself the gift of putting it in the library box instead of trying to get through the entire book.
Fred really enjoyed it, though. Clearly he’s the one with taste.
* * *
Today’s my mother’s birthday. I had to sit and think a good long time before I could figure out how old she is. For a good two or three minutes, I actually thought she was 87. I seriously sat here and thought “She’s 87, right? That’s right, isn’t it…?”
Well, NO, that’s not right, dumbass. My mother’s only 25 years older than I am; my
grandmother‘s the one who was 50 years older. The day I figured out that my mother had me when she was 25, and HER mother had HER when she was 25 was a great day, because I could stop trying to remember the years of their birth.
I remember most everyone’s age by knowing how much older or younger than me they are. My oldest brother’s 6 years older (well, 5 1/2, but I always add 6 to my age, and subtract a year depending on whether he’s had his birthday or not), my other older brother is 4 years older (3 1/2, depending on the time of year), Debbie’s 2 years younger, my mother’s 25 years older, and my father is… two years older than her. I think? For some reason, I can remember that my father was born in 1941, but I don’t remember anyone else’s birth year.
Except for the spud, of course. I know how old she is, but sometimes I have to do some mental gymnastics to figure out how old Brian is. “The spud was almost three when we moved to Rhode Island, which was just after Brian was born, so that makes him almost three years younger, and she’s 16, so that makes him… add the six, carry the one, subtract the 7, divide by 5… thirteen? And a half? When the hell did he GET TO BE A TEENAGER?”
Some people would write down things like the year important relatives were born, but not ME, baby. I prefer to live life on the edge, yes indeedy.
On the other hand, almost nine years after our divorce, I can still remember my ex-husband’s social security number and date of birth. Funny how the memory works, huh?
* * *
*WARNING: POSSIBLE AMAZING RACE SPOILERS; SKIP TO THE NEXT SECTION IF YOU HAVEN’T SEEN THIS WEEK’S EPISODE YET*
From my comments:
Complete change of subject – are you still watching the Amazing Race? Was it just me or would you have pushed The Beauty Queen out of the car when she said her fiance became a POW to get out of the army??!!!
I actually said to Fred that if we were that couple (me a beauty queen! Ha! I don’t own nearly enough lip gloss!), I could imagine saying something like that to him, just to be funny. Because that’s the sort of stuff we’d joke about. But she certainly appeared to be serious there, didn’t she?
I have to say – and this might get me hung for treason – I find Ron and Kelly to be completely unlikeable, and I’d hate it if they won the race. At this point I’m hoping like hell that Uchenna and Joyce or Rob and Amber win, because I’m not crazy about Meredith and Gretchen either. He’s okay, but her voice is like nails on a chalkboard to me, and I feel like they’ve bumbled their way through the race so far. I have no idea on earth how they managed to get this far.
It’s funny that I’m kinda-sorta rooting for Rob and Amber since they annoyed me so much on Survivor. I really hope Uchenna and Joyce win, though.
* * *
*WARNING: SURVIVOR SPOILER AHEAD; SKIP TO THE NEXT SECTION IF YOU HAVEN’T SEEN THIS WEEK’S EPISODE YET*
So they voted off the only non-annoying girl left on Survivor. NICE. Every one of those girls left annoy the holy shit out of me, and if Jennifer, the blandly boring blonde wins this season, I’m going to have to rethink my devotion to this show.
(And I’m sure my decision will be “Oh, I’ll give it one more season!”)
I’m pulling for Tom or Ian to win, but I’m not holding my breath.
* * *
Slap fight.
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