PTA: Sell Cookie Dough or Rule the World?

Today I'm copying a post verbatim from my friend Sean. To all my PTA-member friends out there--I think we might be settings our sights a little bit too low by focusing on gift-wrap sales and Arts and Culture Day. With our experience and talents, our future is apparently in the White House!

Sometimes you just cant make a joke any funnier.

Meeting Tuesday with the editorial board of The Des Moines Register, McCain was asked why he picked the Alaska governor, someone "who doesn't have a lot of experience."

"Thank you, but I disagree with your fundamental principal that she doesn't have the experience," McCain replied before citing Palin's work as a PTA member, city council member, mayor and governor. "You and I just have a fundamental disagreement, and I am so happy the American people seem to be siding with me."

Join the PTA... become the leader of the free world...

This isn't about HER capacity... it's about HIS judgement. How can ANYONE vote for a person who so obviously belongs in an institution.

Which Came First--the Totem or the Egg?

I've been looking for a nice dragonfly quote to go with the image I've started using as my avatar on a variety of different sites. I haven't found a quote yet, but what I have found is fascinating. I've always been drawn to dragonflies, but for no conscious reason other than I think they're cool. I love the way they look with their colorful bodies and delicate wings. I love the way they race around ponds and streams with the light reflecting off their gauzy wings, touching down and taking off again with no apparent objective or reason. Living in Central Texas, I also LOVE the fact that they eat mosquitoes, which are the bane of my existence a good portion of the year.

What I didn't know, however, was the role the dragonfly plays in Native American lore. The dragonfly is apparently a symbol of change. Some Native American belief systems view the dragonfly as a symbol of renewal after a time of great hardship. According to one source I read, dragonflies "remind us to take time to reconnect with our own strength, courage, and happiness."

Elsewhere I read that as the inhabitants of two realms--starting life in water and moving to air with maturity (but never venturing too far from the water), people who relate to the dragonfly have emotional and passionate early years, but achieve balance, mental clarity, and control as adults.

Hmmmmmm. I don't know much about totems, but the topic has come up recently on several occasions. I guess I assumed a person would seek out and choose their own totem. But perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps the totem seeks you. . . Or me as the case may be. Either way, I don't have to think very hard to come up with ways dragonfly lore completely reflects my frame of mind over the past several months as I've struggled to reconcile my image of the fun, vibrant, unstoppable young woman I once was to the "balanced, mentaly clear, and controlled" woman I have become. (And thanks, dragonfly folklore, that sounds so much better than "old and boring.")

The upshot? Even though I don't know exactly which way it happened--whether I found it or it found me--I'm certain I've identified my totem. And I guess it doesn't matter how it came to be, because the one tattooed on my shoulder is clearly here to stay.

It's Too Bad Alzheimers Jokes Aren't Funny

So this is like the 17th time I've logged on to blogspot today KNOWING I had something I wanted to post, but completely forgetting before the page was actually up in front of me.

But THIS time I remember! And it's worth the wait, I tell you. Or then again, maybe it's not. Anyway. . .

The Austin Symphonic Band is preparing for one of our three yearly free performances at Zilker Park. This concert is scheduled for Sunday evening, October 5th, at 7:00. Here's a link to the ASB website with more information: http://www.asband.org/(Is it just me, or is that site getting uglier and uglier?)

I know some of you with children in band this year were planning on coming out to the Mother's Day concert last year, but it got rained out (I *think* it was Mother's Day that got rained out. Right?). Since it appears that it's never going to rain in Austin again, I think we just might be safe this time.

Suffice it to Say

In Austin, at least, Ike was not at all "the big one." Other than a nice breeze and a few sprinkles overnight, we got nothing. Which is good, I suppose, other than the fact that we really need the rain.

It looks like Galveston, Houston, Beaumont, and the surrounding areas may have gotten hit pretty hard. And apparently a lot of people who were told to evacuate the Galveston area didn't--and then were angered and disappointed when rescue workers couldn't help them during the storm.

That's the part I don't get. I mean, I can see deciding to wait it out, but it seems like you do it with the understanding that you don't get to ask other people to risk their lives to help you out if it's worse than you expected.

Maybe I'm missing something, but I think that part of the deal is pretty clear.

Still, I wish everyone in the storm-hit areas the very best.

The Big One

Hey Guys,
You may not hear from me for a while. I've got preparations to make. I need to get the windows boarded up, gas up the generator, and stock up on Spam and Coke. There's a hurricane coming. And it could be the big one. High schools are cancelling football games and one district even cancelled school on Friday. Hell, FEMA even set up a temporary service center here yesterday.

What? What's that you say? Yes, you're right. I DO live in Central Texas, which is, by any measure, a far piece from the Texas coast. And no, technically I don't think Ike is going to make it this far inland. But we could, potentially, get some tropical storm level winds and rain. And apparently, in this post-Katrina world, we MUST BE PREPARED. So the news stations are on full alert, and city and state officials are itching to prove that they won't be taken unawares. And from now until Saturday it's gonna to be all Ike, all the time.

So, here's MY prediction. Ike is going to take a sharp right turn, and nothing's going to happen in Austin. We, like always, will be right outside the storm. We'll get no rain, no wind, AND no UT football game.

But if you haven't heard from me by Monday, it's because I was wrong. The levy has broken and I'm trapped on my roof. Oh wait. We don't have levies. Doh. Why is this so confusing?

UPDATE: So, now LOTS of districts have cancelled school today and our schools are letting out early. But now I actually understand WHY. The districts have been asked to get their bus fleets of the major evacuation routes (I-35 and hwy 290) as early in the day as possible. Now THAT makes sense.

THIS is why!

This article from the Washington Post is a good example of what I love about Obama. Rather than battling one stupid sound byte with another--he actually fights back with substance. Apparently, this kind of response doesn't make headlines (has anyone seen an Obama story on the front page of the paper lately--ANYTHING?) because it's too boring. But I'll take boring, informed, and intelligent any day.

Forgive me for posting the whole article, but it's short and to the point so I think it's okay. Oh yeah, and it's my blog anyway, so I guess I can do it however I want to!!!

Obama to Palin: 'Don't Mock the Constitution'
By Peter Slevin
FARMINGTON HILLS, Mich. -- Sen. Barack Obama delivered an impassioned defense of the Constitution and the rights of terrorism suspects tonight, striking back at one of the biggest applause lines in Republican vice presidential nominee Sarah Palin's speech to the GOP convention.

It was in St. Paul last week that Palin drew raucous cheers when she delivered this put-down of Obama: "Al-Qaeda terrorists still plot to inflict catastrophic harm on America and he's worried that someone won't read them their rights."

Obama had a few problems with that.

"First of all, you don't even get to read them their rights until you catch 'em," Obama said here, drawing laughs from 1,500 supporters in a high school gymnasium. "They should spend more time trying to catch Osama bin Laden and we can worry about the next steps later."

If the plotters of the Sept. 11 attacks are in the government's sights, Obama went on, they should be targeted and killed.

"My position has always been clear: If you've got a terrorist, take him out," Obama said. "Anybody who was involved in 9/11, take 'em out."

But Obama, who taught constitutional law at the University of Chicago for more than a decade, said captured suspects deserve to file writs of habeus corpus.

Calling it "the foundation of Anglo-American law," he said the principle "says very simply: If the government grabs you, then you have the right to at least ask, 'Why was I grabbed?' And say, 'Maybe you've got the wrong person.'"

The safeguard is essential, Obama continued, "because we don't always have the right person."

"We don't always catch the right person," he said. "We may think it's Mohammed the terrorist, but it might be Mohammed the cab driver. You might think it's Barack the bomb-thrower, but it might be Barack the guy running for president."

Obama turned back to Palin's comment, although he said he was not sure whether Palin or Rudy Giuliani said it.

"The reason that you have this principle is not to be soft on terrorism. It's because that's who we are. That's what we're protecting," Obama said, his voice growing louder and the crowd rising to its feet to cheer. "Don't mock the Constitution. Don't make fun of it. Don't suggest that it's not American to abide by what the founding fathers set up. It's worked pretty well for over 200 years."

He finished with a dismissive comment about his opponents.

"These people."

link to actual article

Mucho Funny!

I don't know how long this has been around, but it's awfully funny. And not even remotely political.

Yay!

Enough with the "Sexy" Up-do Already

Sure, there's lots to be said about Sarah Palin, McCain's choice for running mate. And most of the irrelevant stuff has been said again and again over the past week.

But what I can't bear--the thing hat makes me want to SCREAM every time I see her, is that ridiculous hair. Did she like her prom style so much that she's decided to wear it every day since the big night? Is she being advised by a Playboy centerfold stylist? Because I swear, in the first Playboy I ever saw (yep, teenage girls check 'em out too--to figure out the ideal we're aiming for but will never quite measure up to), there was a whole sexy librarian spread that started with the mousy chick in a navy suit, nerdy glasses, and a prim but touseled up-do and ended with Ms. Prim and Proper, hair down and glasses discarded, spread out naked among the books in the reference section. Maybe Palin saw that one too (she's about the right age, isn't she?) and thought--yeah! That's the look I'm going for.

So, am I a hypocritical anti-feminist because I even care about her hair? Maybe. But I CAN'T STAND IT. And even Jenny, our visiting German teenager who has followed NONE of the media frenzy following Palin's nomination and has no stake in the election, saw her on tv and noticed something was amiss. "Why is McCain holding hands with a porn star at the Republican convention? That woman totally looks like a porn star."



It's the hair, I tell you. Well, and maybe the dominatrix suit and the pretend-I'm-smart glasses, and the makeup. But mostly it's the hair!

(Oh yeah, and her politics suck, too.)

So, I Spent the Morning Writing E-Mail

About noon today, I realized that I had spent much of my Sunday morning writing e-mail. My first reaction was dismay. What a waste of time, right? But then I thought about it a little bit more. I sent four messages this morning. They weren't quick questions and responses, work-related missives, or forwarded jokes (God forbid); they were actual letters, the old-fashioned kind--except for the fact that they were composed and sent electronically.

Once upon a time, spending a Sunday morning writing letters would have been seen as a very productive use of time. So why do I feel like such a lazy slob for doing it electronically?

I suppose it's all a matter of perception.

Seen On MSNBC

Bush to skip convention: White House says president, vice president will focus on hurricane.

That's some award-winning spin, ladies and gentlemen. Someone on the Bush train deserves a big fat promotion. Not only do they get to avoid the crushing truth that his presence wouldn't be doing the Republican Party any favors, but Bush gets another whack at appearing to be a competent leader during a crisis.

Somebody at the White House should be printing up some "Thanks, Gustav" t-shirts. . .

New Year in Poland!

It's official. We're leaving Austin on Christmas morning and arriving in Germany on the following day. We'll spend a couple of days in Germany, then fly with Michael's family to Gdansk, Poland, where we'll ring in 2009! After a couple more days in Poland, we'll return to Germany, spend a few days in my old stomping grounds in Hamburg, and maybe Cologne. Then it's back to the U.S. on 1/7. Theoretically, the girls have to be back in school on 1/6, but we get more trip for our buck if we keep them out the 2-3 extra days. I think they'll catch up. . .

Now we just have to figure out what we're doing with the dog!!!!!! I offered to fly out of Dallas and drop him off at my mom's house, but she passed on that opportunity. Can you imagine? I'm sure we'll come up with something between now and then!

I'm so excited I can hardly stand it. I haven't been in Europe since I left during the summer of 1991. It's been a long, long time!

Good fresh bread, here we come!

Somebody

Yesterday, as I was entertaining myself by listening to mix tapes given to me by cute boys way back when I myself was a cute young thing (and yes, I DO realize that I may very well be in the midst of a mid-life crisis), I happened across a song that I had completely forgotten about. When I was 17, maybe 18 years old, I absolutely adored the song Somebody by Depeche Mode. I used to listen to it over and over again, memorizing the words and (more often than not) crying as I wrote bad poetry and wondered if I would ever have somebody in my life who could live up to the "somebody" described in the song.

As I heard the opening notes on Adam's tape yesterday, I was immediately transported back to the late 1980s, and all the raw, hopeful emotion that that time represented for me came flooding back. Though I had neither thought of nor heard the song in at least 18 years, I remembered every single word.

And with tears streaming down my face as the song came to it's extrordinarily cheesy close, I realized I have EXACTLY what I hoped for all those years ago.

Which is to say--for all my complaining and carrying on, for all my worrying and wondering, for all my self-imposed anxiety and angst--I do know that I'm an EXTREMELY lucky woman.

And I'm grateful for that.

Thank You!

To those of you who noticed, listened, understood, and struggled to find the right things to say (you did a great job, by the way), I can hardly tell you how much I appreciate it. I don't crumble often. I'm glad you were there to help fit the pieces back together.

With Enormous Gratitude,
Humpty Robyn
(get it? like humpty dumpty? 'cause he fell off the wall and broke into a million pieces and. . . .oh never mind!)

Untitled

Periodically I wonder if it would be possible to reinvent myself. To make myself into the person I'd rather be. I'd like to keep the "good" stuff, but offload some of my less positive characteristics, like my desperate need to please others coupled with my feeling that nothing I do is enough. That's some serious shit that I NEED to unload.

While I'm at it, I'd like to get rid of whatever it is that makes me so physically lazy and replace it with the drive to challenge my body. How cool would it be if I actually thought exercise were fun? There are people like that, you know. Michael had to do something physical every day. If he didn't get some significant exercise each day, he got moody and sullen. He actually LIKED to go to the gym. He liked to work out and see the difference it made. I want to be that kind of person.

I'd also like to be more able to live in the moment, rather than always worrying about what's coming up next.

I'd like to be able to give up control and just let some things happen.

I'd like to be more open about my feelings and less worried about how others would perceive me if they knew how I felt.

I'd like to be able to ask for help. And to accept help when it's offered to me.

I'd like to be less easily irritated by people around me--family, friends, and strangers alike.

I'd just like to be better. . .

But then again, who wouldn't?

My Favorite Polish Cowboy

Here are the photos I promised of Michael in his western gear. Somehow, miraculously, he pulls the hat, belt buckle, and western shirt off, even with the Euro-jeans. And just so you know, he's not really a finger-gun kind of guy. I would have had to send the boy home had that been the case. The finger gun was simply a prop to make the whole outfit more convincing. . .

I actually sent Michael a cowboy hat when he was very small--maybe 5 years old? He says he had it for a long time. Unfortunately, I don't have any pictures of him wearing it. I think these make up for it though. He really couldn't have been THAT much cuter then.

Facebook Surprise!

The thing that makes Facebook so compelling for me is how people from the past sort of pop up unexpectedly. Since you use your real name, it's possible for people you haven't thought of in ages to find you and contact you. Plus, the way the facebook platform networks "friends," it's easy for friends of friends to identify you and contact you. Within hours of opening my facebook account, I had been contacted by several old friends from high school and college. The really cool thing is you can "catch up" with old aquaintances in a matter of minutes via private messages, and you don't even have to have the potentially awkward voice conversation.

So, a week or so ago I got an e-mail notification that someone was trying to add me as a friend. It was someone I knew pretty well in high school, but whom I had not thought about in years. I was thrilled to hear from this particular person and I approved the invitation. When I visited this person's profile, I was pleased to see that they had actually pursued a performance career, and had some impressive credits to their name--including short roles on Melrose Place and WestWing! Being me, I wanted to know more, so I checked out their name on IMDB and whoaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa. It turns out they have a lot of film credits that they're not posting on their public profile. Films that most likely play late at night on Showtime.

Now, I'm not judging, and you know, it's the kind of job I'd never have even been offered. So, whatever. But that was some surprise.

And, just for fun, I'm thinking about subscribing to Showtime. Or then again, maybe not. . .

Mentally Defective

The City crew showed up this morning with much busting and digging equipment to repair the bad sewer line that caused our flood a few weeks ago. When I got home from the airport, 5 guys were standing shoulder deep in an enormous hole in my neighbor's side yard. I thought the bad piece of pipe was under the street, but it turns out it's in the neighbor's yard. She's going to be, ummm, surprised when she gets home from work today. I suppose I need to leave a note or something on her door so she at least knows what's going on.

But that's not exactly what this post is about.

So I get home from the airport, spend a few minutes staring down into the giant hole, chat a little bit with the crew about what they're doing and what happens next, observe the big piece of sewage pipe they just cut out of the ground that is now laying on my driveway, and go about my business.

Fifteen minutes later a wet, sudsy man appears at my door. Turns out it may not have been the best time to start a load of laundry.

See Robyn's Heart Split in Two

I just got back from the airport. I seems like I was just there! My three-week visit with Michael went faster than I could have imagined, and I was very, very sad to drop him off at the airport today. I honestly didn't know what to expect from this visit, but it went better than I could have hoped. Yes, there were some blips along the way--mainly in integrating the schedules of visiting 18/19 year olds with my 7/8 year olds. But the rough spots were short and minor. Mainly, I feel very fortunate to have had the opportunity to get to know my godson as a young adult. It's funny how strong our connection is, considering we didn't really know each other (knowing him as an infant may or may not have anything to do with this), but I think it's going to be harder to be half a world apart now that we do know one another. He's a spectacular young man with great things ahead of him. I sincerely hope that these three weeks weren't all the time we get together.

We were so busy most of the time he was here that many of you never got to meet him. So, here's a photo of my adorable godbaby, Michael, taken by our simultaneously-visiting teenage German friend, Jenny. At least this is what Michael looked like shortly after he arrived in Austin. I'll post another picture of the Polish cowboy (outfitted in his new cowboy hat, western belt and buckle, and western shirt) as soon as I can get it uploaded. It's worth the wait, I promise you.

Blazer Tag!!!!

In response to the threat of rain (which NEVER came), we took the whole gang to play Blazer Tag today. It's probably one of the few activities I can think of that is fun and satsifying for middle-aged adults, teenagers, and young kids alike. Unfortunately, it's silly expensive (It cost $51 for the six of us to play one 20-minute game, and of course, we had so much fun that we had to play again. OUCH!), so it's not something we'll be doing often. But today it was just right.

The peace-loving German girl was the highest ranked player in our group for both games--and, I think, ranked #4 in one of the games overall. It turns out, she's a bit of a sniper, which might oughta concern me a bit, I suppose. The insanely competitive young Polish man came in second among the six of us, followed by Davy, and Zoe. Mia and I vied consistently for last. Lucky for both of us, there were two very young children (maybe 4 or 5?) competing against us. And while I started out with a strong moral aversion to shooting the little children, I soon realized that I was going to have to tag them or risk coming in dead last. It turns out I'm pretty bad at laser tag and I had to take the sucker shot to survive.

It was fun, different, and it gave most of us a pretty decent workout. Although the three-story arena is well air-conditioned, I came out in a full, adrenaline-fueled sweat after both games.

$(*&^#@&^%^%$ Teenagers

(And that's all I have to say about that.)

Strangely Melancholy

Sometimes I feel like I need a break--from the self-imposed pressures of being a good mother, a good wife, a good daughter, a good frend, and all the other things I feel like I have to be. Sometimes I just want to be me--the me I used to be when I was responsible for myself and nobody else. That me had fun. That me did interesting things. That me was less likely to be pissed off at any given moment. That me got a lot more joy out of life, I think.

Having my godson here has been wonderful. He's a beautiful young man with a gentle soul, and I'm so happy for the opportunity to really get to know him. But in a strange way, he's also a link to everything I used to be. Since I haven't seen him in 17 years, his being here has brought up an endless stream of old memories. It turns out I really miss the young woman I was when he was born. I'd like to know her again.

Welcome to the International House of Czarnecki (IHOCz)

Jenny arrives from Germany at 11:49 tonight.

Michael arrives from Poland at 11:52 tomorrow night.

Let the fun begin!!!!

And Then. . .

The sewer backed up into the guest bathroom at 10:30 last night. Essentially, my entire bath-full of water drained down from upstairs, and finding no place to escape, bubbled up from the bottom of the guestroom toilet. When I came down from my bath, I had one inch of warm bath water standing on the bathroom floor--and seeping out under the brand new wood floor in the hallway.

Plumbers are on the way to figure out what happened.

Flooring guys are on the way to see how far the water went and hopefully save part of the floor.

Uggggh.

Sooooo Frustrating

What follows is a record of my correspondence with the security department at my ISP this afternoon. This exchange took place a day after I realized that I was not receiving statement notifications from my credit card provider, and,therefore had not paid my bill since MAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Luckily for me, the credit card customer service folks took my long and excellent payment history into account and took pity on me, reversing over $200 in late fees and interest charges. However, as you will read, I have not been able to solve the problem that caused this to happen. So, back to paper statements for me. Environment be damned.

Message 1: Me to ISP security department
I've just gotten off the phone with someone at the [ISP] national help desk. He was not able to help me with my problem and suggested that I e-mail this address. Sooooo, here goes.

Recently I have stopped receiving e-mail from at least two addresses I am aware of. One of the addresses is my credit card company, who tells me that my two most recent electronic statement notifications have bounced back to them. I've received electronic statement notifications from [credit card company] for well over a year, and I have not changed my software or updated my security settings on my computer lately, so I can't understand why e-mails from them would no longer be getting to me. The last message I received from [credit card company] (NOT my statement notification) was on 6/19.

I have also apparently stopped receiving e-mails from [other organization]. I received an e-mail from this address as recently as 7/8/08, but more recently they haven't been getting through. I have no idea if they're bouncing back to the sender or disappearing.

What I DO know:
None of these messages ended up in my Anti-Spam folder or my Deleted Items folder, so the problem must be happening before the are downloading to my computer.

The [ISP] helpdesk guy had me check my webmail settings, and I do not have it set to block messages. There are messages going automatically into a junkmail folder at webmail, but as far as I can tell, they are all flagrant spam (pharmaceutical stuff, etc.).

My usage stats are fine. When we checked, this account had 0% usage, so a full mailbox on the server shouldn't be the problem.

PLEASE HELP ME. These are just the two addresses I KNOW I'm not getting mail from. I'm not even sure how to figure out if there are others. This is not acceptable--especially since it resulted in a late payment on my credit card account.

Message 2: ISP security department to me
Unfortunately, [ISP] cannot act on your request at this time because you have not supplied enough information regarding your problem. Any blocks that might be in place focus on servers and networks used to send mail, not the email address of the sender.

We invite ##BLOCKED_PARTY to direct his/her attention to the following
websites, where he/she will be able to request removal of the
affected mail server from our block list, if appropriate: [redacted]

Alternatively, he/she may reply to this message and include any error
messages received (this address refuses mail from no one, regardless of
their sending server's block status) and we will investigate the matter
further.

Thank you.

Message 3: Me to ISP security department
Now I'm getting truly frustrated.

I have NO IDEA what other information I need to supply. I'm a customer--not
the helpdesk. I was speechless when the helpdesk guy told me *I* would have to
*e-mail* another department because he couldn't help me. And now, that other
department can't act on my request because I have not supplied enough
information?

I did the best I could to describe the problem as I see it. I need somebody
to HELP ME!!!!!

Message 4: ISP security department to me
If we are blocking [credit card company], we are the department that can help.
However, as the previous message states, we need them to supply any
error messages they are receiving directly to us from them. Without
their error messages and IP's (obtained from the headers when they e-
mail us directly) we are unable to troubleshoot this issue properly.

Thank You

Message 5: Exasperated Me to ISP security department (I don't suppose I'll get a response)
Thanks for your quick reply.

I just got off the phone with tech support at [credit card company]. The guy I talked to said they are routinely blocked by major internet service providers because of the number of notifications they send out at one time. Unfortunately, while it was noted in my account that e-mail to my address had bounced back,
there is apparently no record of the specific error message they received.
So I seem to be flat out of luck. The [credit card company] tech support guys swears
you guys can fix it with just the sender's address. You tell me you can't.
and I'm just the helpless customer in the middle who is screwed because I
can't get my e-mail. . .

Although, frankly, I can't imagine why a company like [credit card company] would be
blocked. That's silly. It's not like [credit card company] is trying to trick people into buying penis enlargements or diplomas. It really irks me that the system
will block real mail from reputable senders,and yet I continue to receive countless offers to meet hot Christian single women from my neighborhood. Something is not right.

I cannot tell you how frustrated I am right now. But maybe you can sense it.

Hmmmmm. Can't figure out why there are hard returns at the end of the lines. Maybe because I copied and pasted from e-mail? Maybe I should call blogger tech support and get some help with that. Because me and tech support--we're like peanut butter and jelly. (*&^&^%$_@#@#*(@&^($*&@^$&^%*&^%

Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog

Do you like Joss Whedon? How about Nathan Fillion?

Do think Neil Patrick Harris should rule the world?

If you answered yes to any of those questions, or even if you did not, you MUST, MUST, MUST watch this.

Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog

But here's the thing. You only have until Sunday, July 20th, to watch it for free. After that it will be available for download for a nominal fee. Then, sometime later, it will be available as a DVD. Here's Whedon's explanation of his master plan for the project. Very entertaining!

I'm a Bonehead

For being relatively smart on paper, I can be pretty stupid in real life. . .

When we got home from vacation yesterday, I noticed something strange floating around in the hummingbird feeder. Closer inspection revealed that the feeder had been competely taken over by enormous red ants. I mean LOTS of BIG, FAT other-worldly critters, the likes of which I've never actually seen in my yard. Most of them were dead, but some of them were still wiggling around. So, smart cookie that I am, I took the top off the feeder and put it out on a bush in the hot sun to boil those nasty critters.

Heheheheh.

Now I have a writhing mass of bees and wasps on a bush beside my front walkway. Nobody can get in or out my front door without dodging the bees.

Oops.

Home.

Tired.

Sandy.

Satisfied.

If you asked my girls right now, they would probably tell you that one of the worst things about vacation is that sometimes we make them eat ice cream for breakfast.

Two Happy Kids and a Dog

I know. Enough with the dog pics already. It would be different if I could take a decent picture (like my friend Ann. Dang, her new dog shots are award-worthy), but I don't have the patience for it.

Nonetheless, these make me smile.

Out of the Mouth of My Babe

Last night Davy, Zoe, Mia and I were all suffering from some strange insomnia. At about 11:30 we all ended up cuddled up in my big bed talking. Ever since the girls were small we've done something we call "thankfuls" where we take turns telling what we're each thankful for. Sometimes our thankfuls are deep and meaningful, but more often they are pretty shallow and reflective of what has happened on a given day.

As you can imagine, the new dog is a current source of thankfulness among my girls. And so during Mia's turn, she said she was thankful for Mr. Pink. And Jade (the cat).
When I asked if she was thankful for Felix, her fish, she answered, "I guess I am, but he's not so much a pet as a decoration we have to feed."

Truer words are rarely spoken.

Dog Update

I know you're all waiting with baited breath (Mr. Pink sure is!) to find out how things are progressing between the dog and the cat at our house. I'm happy to report that things are definitely looking up. As soon as I realized that the cat's problem was that she was too terrified to get down the hall to her litter box and made the box more accessible to her hiding place, that problem was solved.

Now, I'm not saying our house is a feline/canine lovefest or anything, but it's tenable and getting better all the time. The cat actually spent a few hours downstairs yesterday, which is a huge change from the previous week. So, we e-mailed the folks at Blue Dog yesterday to let them know that we were 100% committed to being Pink's "forever family" (sorry for the preciousness, folks, but that's what they call it.)

We're now waiting for the adoption to be finalized.

Yay!

Well, that was . . . Interesting

The Austin Symphonic Band traditionally plays the 4th of July fireworks show in Round Rock. It's been rained out the past two years, so last night was our first Round Rock performance in some time. And it was a doozy!

Rather than the sticky, hot, still, uncomfortable weather we're used to on July 4th, last night was actually pleasant. There was a strong, cool breeze that made things unexpectedly comfortable for the audience. For the band, though, it was another matter entirely.

First, the Round Rock sound guys failed to bring wind guards for the microphones. So when we played, the mikes picked up the wind--which sounded like continunous thunder, or maybe a fighter jet circling about 20 feet overhead. But it turns out that might have been a good thing. Because with the conducter directing with one hand and holding his score down with the other, and with players' music blowing away at regular intervals if it wasn't clipped to the stand, and the STANDS blowing over if the music WAS clipped down, it was an interesting performance, to say the very least.

The good news is the fireworks ended just right during the final strain of Stars and Stripes, and when that happens, nobody remembers the rest of the music. So in the end, it was all good.

AND, we get another go tonight at Bastrop. To save our dignity, if nothing else.

But, man, that was some performance.

My Cat is Not Pleased

The new-dog-to-existing-cat introductions have not gone as smoothly as we had hoped they might. The first night seemed too good to be true. Jade (feline) and Mr. Pink (canine) met face to face, did some sniffing, and that was that. Mr. Pink proceeded into his crate to sleep, and Jade slept about 2 feet away.

Hooray, right?

Well, no.

Because the next day Mr. Pink chased Jade through the entire house exactly one time. And Jade spent the next 24 hours in Davy's closet. Emerging only to pee on our bed.

Shit.

I mean piss.

The vet believes all is not lost. I hope she's right. But remember the part where I felt that it was too good to be true? Well, duh!

Just Playing Around with an Idea

Most of you know all about Sister--the sweet, old, too big, neurotic doggy Davy and I had for years--since long before the girls came to be. You also know that she died about a year and a half ago. And it was kind of a relief. Because as much as we loved her, she had gotten old and tired, and she couldn't really muster up the energy to do anything other than bark every time the doorbell rang (which grew quite tiresome).

But being as she was around before the girls were born, Zoe and Mia grew up with a dog in the house. And while Davy and I may have quietly celebrated being relieved of the responsibilities that go along with geriatric dog ownership, the same cannot be said of our children. The "Can we get a puppy?" chorus began very shortly after a very brief period of mourning. And until very recently, the answer had remained a firm "No!" Well, the answer to "Can we get a puppy?" is still no, but we're actually considering adopting a young dog.

Behold, Mr. Pink:


On paper, he looks like a perfect dog for us: 2 years old, 17 pounds, playful and easy going. And, well, he's got an awesome name! Theoretically he's good with kids and cats, but we'll have to meet him and see.

I'll keep you posted!

Vanna, I'd like to buy W T and F, please.

This was brought to my attention by the ever-vigilant Sean. Apparently, the Associated Press wants to charge bloggers for quoting excerpts from AP stories of five words or more. AND, if you pay for the "license" to quote more than 5 words, but they don't LIKE how you use the experpt, they want to be able to revoke the license.

How can they do this? Can a media company actually make up new rules regarding how open media is used? And enforce them? For real???

For some reason I can't get my head around this at all!

A Cry For Help

It occurred to me today that there are really cool things to do around here that I've never done simply because (and this is hard to admit) I don't know how and I'm too lazy to find out.

For example, I understand that there are great places to hike along the greenbelt, but I've never done it because I don't know which areas are safe. I don't know where to get in. Where to park. Which trail to take to get to where. You get the picture.

I've walked around Town Lake maybe 5 times in the 18 years I've lived in Austin. Why only 5 times? Because I'm never quite sure where to park. I don't know which way to go once I'm in. I don't know where to cross over if I just want to walk for an hour (as opposed to circling the whole damn lake, which, I'm relatively certain, would take three days.

I've never been to Hamilton Pool and it's been years since I've been to any of the lakeside beaches. I don't know where they are and I'm too lame to figure it out.

I don't go to many festivals downtown or to free concerts at auditorium shores because I'm overwhelmed by the idea of not knowing where to park my car.

Do you see a pattern? It turns out, and I'm honestly just figuring this out, I don't try new things because I think it's going to be too complicated--not the actual activity, but the coordination of the little details that lead up to the activity. How lame is that? The funny thing is it's completely different when I'm traveling. Give me a public transportation map in strange city and I'm ready to roll. But somehow, at home, it's easier to do the same old things that I know how do do, than to leave my comfort zone to try something new.

Sooooo--here's where you come in, my friend. If there's something you do in Austin that I OUGHT to be doing, tell me about it. In fact, I'd appreciate it if, just once, you'd take me under your wing and show me the ropes. Or you can tell me where to freakin' park and I'll take it from there. I promise I'm a quick learner. I won't follow you around for the rest of your days. I'm just tired of inertia. This town is full of possibilities. I just need to get off my ass and TRY some of them.

Democracy Revitalized!

Or at least the Democratic Party? I'll be fascinated to see how things go from here.

Obama Claims Democratic Nomination

Democracy Fatigue

Honestly, I don't remember when I've ever found democracy so exhausting. How many time have we been to the polls this year? Primaries, primary run-offs, local elections, bond elections, and now this.

Early Voting Begins. . . AGAIN

You've got to be kidding me. Another election? Holy hanging chads, this democracy thing is wearing me out. I guess there IS an alternative, though. I could take our commander in chief's approach to democracy (thanks, Jake, for bringing this to my attention):

"Kick ass! If somebody tries to stop the march to democracy, we will seek them out and kill them! We must be tougher than hell! This Vietnam stuff, this is not even close. It is a mind-set. We can't send that message. It's an excuse to prepare us for withdrawal."

"There is a series of moments and this is one of them. Our will is being tested, but we are resolute. We have a better way. Stay strong! Stay the course! Kill them! Be confident! Prevail! We are going to wipe them out! We are not blinking!"

George W. Bush

Killing in the name of democracy certainly sounds like more fun than all these silly elections, no?

Untitled, by Mia Cz

Am I Raising the Aesop of the Modern Age?

You be the judge. . .

Once upon a time there lived a pig. He was a fat one. Because he loved to eat slop. "I am tired of slop!" he said. I want to try something new like BUGS! Then a CLEVER butterfly flu over head. Would you like to have lunch with me? Shur! I'd love to. Just come to the the table. What are we haveing? Butterfly! A fly with butter? Or Me? You'll see.

Editor's note: I'm not sure what makes this butterfly so "clever" (especially in all caps). I may have to check with the author and add a footnote.

Somebody at Whole Foods Is Having a Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

A Sports Post? WTF?

Mark your calendars, folks. Today is the day hell reaches 32*F (which must be why it's do damn hot up here). For I am about to post about sports.

What could have possibly inspired this shocking leap out of my don't-give-a-rat's-ass-about-sports comfort zone?

It's the Spurs, my friends. Well, technically, it's the fact that over the past two days I've either read or heard no fewer than four separate sports analysts or columnists, the most recent on this morning's Morning Edition, opining on why the Spurs are such an unpopular team. You see, living in Austin, with two pretty serious Spurs fans in my home, and being admittedly quite ignorant regarding all things sporty, I had no idea that the Spurs weren't universally loved. I guess I assumed, based on their record and demeanor, that they were like the Dallas Cowboys of basketball or something. But it turns out that's not the case. It turns out, in fact, that people hate them.

So, why are the Spurs so disliked among American sports fans? You might assume it's because they continue to kick everyone else's butts, despite the fact that they're so old (I guess basketball counts in dog years or something). But that's not it! According to the experts (Or at least the sports media--are they experts? I really don't know how this works.), people don't like the Spurs because they're not flashy enough. Because they don't get in trouble off the court. Because they treat basketball like a job and they go to work and do their jobs well. Because they behave like good sports on and off the court. Because the players get along and don't air their disagreements in the media. Because there's no Rodman or Kobe or Shaq to simultaneously rile up and engage the sympathy of the masses.

Essentially what these people are saying is that Americans don't like the Spurs because they seem to be decent people who do their jobs well and choose not to make public asses of themselves.

Shit, that makes them my favorite team regardless of their record. And regardless of the fact that I don't have favorite sports teams. . .

Here ends my one and only sports post.

Grrrrr. Flooring Update

Well yesterday started off with a bang. The work crew arrived early and immediately set to work moving furniture, ripping out carpet, removing tack-strip, and demolishing the tile facade around the fireplace. They hauled it all away and even got started laying the wood in my office.

Today started off well, too. One (out of three) guy arrived at the agreed upon time and started working. He soon finished the office--and that's when things screeched to a halt. Guy Number Two was out picking up the quarter-round, so Guy Number One couldn't move ahead. Then Guy Number Two finally got here and they cut the quarter-round for the room. Then, suddenly, they had to go back to the store. Both of them. That took forever, during which time I could not leave the house because they hadn't taken a key. The finally reappeared, slapped on some floaty cementy looking stuff to smooth the ripped up dryway around the fireplace, and then, lo, it was lunchtime.

They've been gone for a long time now. Long enough for me to go to the bank, go to Target, have lunch, get home, and stew for a while.

NOTHING is happening today. On top of that, I haven't gotten shit for work done and now I have to go to school for a volunteer appreciation shindig of some sort.

I'm annoyed. Can you tell?

Dread vs. Reality

You know how when you're really dreading something, it generally turns out that you end up expending more energy worrying about the event in question than on the dreaded event itself?

Well, this isn't one of those times.

We're having some work done on our house tomorrow (smelly dog carpets OUT, lovely wood floors IN) and while the work crew is going to *move* our furniture, we have to empty it of its breakable and/or heavy contents. I'm talking about the china cabinet in the dining room, the entertainment center and bookcases in the den, and worst of all, the bookcases, desks, hutches, and filing cabinets in our office.

So we started a couple of hours ago. The china cabinet was a piece of cake. The stuff in the den wasn't too bad, either. But the office is going to kill me. This room is PACKED with crap. I started to itemize it for you, but I had to stop and delete the list because it's just so demoralizing.

Those of you who have been in my house--does it strike you as being full of crap and clutter? Until today, I didn't think so. I thought we were doing okay. I was WRONG. WE HAVE TOO MUCH STUFF.

This day sucks.

(Oh yeah. And Davy's sick in bed. And the girls are determined to "help" me by washing my car.)

AGHGHGHGHGHGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHh.

Help! I think PETA may be after me!

You may or may not know about Felix. Felix is a betta fish who has lived with us for so long, none of us can remember exactly how long we've had him. We *think* he's about three years old, which is probably something like 314 in $1 pet-store fish years. He lives happily (it seems) in a large cylindrical vase (stolen from Sara's wedding centerpiece--thanks, Sara) on the bar between the living room and the kitchen.

Somehow, during the time our German friend Jenny was living with us last year, Jenny and Felix really bonded--maybe because she fed him everyday (we, um, sometimes forget). And unbelievable as it may sound, it seemed that Felix started to recognize Jenny. He would swim up to meet her (and only her) each time she walked by his bowl. We were all a bit concerned about Felix when Jenny left us last June. Would he notice? Would his little fishy heart break? Would he die of starvation when the rest of us forgot to feed him?

Well, none of that happened. Surprisingly, Felix is still with us, and although he isn't as spry as he used to be, he seems to be hale and healthy.

So, when Jenny turned 18 last week (Happy Birthday!) a betta seemed like a perfect gift, but not one that seemed practical to ship overseas. I enlisted a friend of hers to do the local footwork for me, and on Friday, the installation was completed. Anna had procured a lovely bowl, some fish gravel, a live plant, some food, and a lovely blue betta for Jenny. She named him "Mr. Maroo" after the mascot at Austin High School. And mother and little fish seem to be doing swimmingly.

Only Mr. Maroo doesn't seem to like his food that much. So today Jenny visited her local fish store to see what her options are. And the fish store guy told her that keeping a betta fish in a bowl (as opposed to an aquarium) is illegal in Switzerland*. WTF? Why would that be? What am I missing? Just think about the grocery bags--that took me 18 years to understand. What if I'm torturing Felix and I don't even know it?

*Incidentally, I know I said Jenny was German and then went on to write about the legalities of betta ownership in Switzerland. She lives on the border. It's complicated. . .

Well, hell!

Unfortunately, due to a scheduling conflict by the City of Austin, the Austin Symphonic Band's Mother's Day concert at Zilker Park has been cancelled. And somebody owes the ASB a huge apology.

Dinner Guests

Last night, as part of teacher appreciation week, we had Mia's teacher and her two sons over for dinner. The boys are younger than my girls (2 and 4), so Zoe and Mia were given the task of entertaining them and keeping them out of trouble. At some point, Zoe took 4-year-old Esai out back to teach him how to make crowns out of vines and flowers. I overheard her explaining to him, "I know it's not a very boy thing to do, but it will come in handy when you're in high school and you go on a picnic with a girl."

It makes me wonder where she's getting her information!

Mia, for her part, showed the 2 year old how to play darts.

Sigh.

Because I'm So Green

Way back when I was living in Germany, some 18-20 years ago (yikes!), I was stunned by the fact that grocery stores made customers pay for plastic bags. It wasn't much--something like 5 Pfennig per bag, but it baffled this consumer-driven American. I simply couldn't believe that the bags cost the stores enough that passing their cost directly down to the consumer was worth the loss in "customer good will" or whatever we call it.

I didn't get it.

Pie-eyed and liberal as I was, I didn't understand that it wasn't about profit. It was about environmental responsibility. The stores were charging for the bags to deter customers from using them unless they absolutely had to (duh!). Most shoppers brought their own bags and baskets to carry their items home.

I guess it took a couple of years for the concept to sink in, but I'm proud to report that today I did a whole week's worth of grocery shopping and did not use a single plastic bag. I've been shopping with reusable bags for some time now, but the produce has been my sticking point. I've long stuck the produce label to directly to a bunch of bananas or an individual watermelon, but I was still using the store-provided plastic bags for bulk items like green beans, or for multiple items, like 5 apples. But that all changed today when I used my reusable cotton produce bags for the first time. The checker at my HEB had never seen them before, which kind of surprised me. For, although Circle C/Legend Oaks is certainly NOT central Austin and my HEB, fancy as it is, is no Whole Foods, lots of people here do use reusable bags. I'm surprised to be one of the first to find the produce bags.

Anyway, I walked out of HEB today feeling quite virtuous. Until I climbed into my minivan and turned the key. . . Baby steps, right?

In honor of my impressive green-ness, I offer you the following link, which was brought to my attention by the ever fabulous Jake.

Green Porn by Isabella Rossellini

This is absolutely worth watching.

Ignore this post

I have to post some blurry pictures here so someone can help me figure out what I'm doing wrong. The rest of you can go about your business (unless you know why my candid, group, indoor, far-away photos are all coming out blurry with my new camera--in which case feel free to speak up).

Now, carry on. . .

The Artist and Her Work

You might remember this post from a couple of weeks ago about Mia's artwork earning a space in the district-wide art show downtown. Well, we went, and it was interesting and fun. It was pretty cool to see that much student art in one space--as well as many of the artists (most of whom were far more interested in rolling down the grassy hill outside than viewing the art inside). I finally got around to uploading the images from my camera, and for those of you who weren't able to make the show, I am proud to present to you. . . Mia and her Pink Flower:

I'm Getting a New Toy

I (and a couple hundred thousand of my closest friends) have been doing word-of-mouth marketing for an outfit called BzzAgent for a couple of years now. Periodically they'll send out an e-mail announcing a new campaign and ask if I want to take part. Then they send me a "product experience" (free stuff) to try and sometimes some samples and coupons to share with friends. Then I'm supposed to talk about the product, share what I like and don't like about it with people I know--to create "buzz."

Over the course of the last two years, I've taken part in some very cool campaigns (Storyville Coffee, Sonicare Toothbrush, and LypSyl lip balm have been some of my favorites) and a couple of clunkers (which I will leave nameless). They've all been interesting, and it's been kind of cool to get to try things out, sometimes before they've hit the market, and to introduce friends and family to brand new products.

But I've just signed on to the best campaign yet. At least I'm hopeful that it will be. In a few days I should be receiving my very own Logitech Harmony One Advanced Universal remote control. WOOT!



You can PRETEND you're not jealous, but I know you are. And yes, I know that NONE of the other universal remote controls that we've ever tried has actually worked. Either they haven't been able to control all our components (stereo's too old; dvd player's too new. . .) OR they've been able to turn one component on and off and control the volume on another, but never all the functions for any one component. But THIS time it's going to be different. This baby's going to do the trick. And if it doesn't, it'll be no skin off my back because it's free, free, free.

I'll keep you posted. . . whether you want to be or not!

Somebody Check My Math

So, this guy in Japan gets busted at work for logging 780,000 porn hits on his work computer over 9 months.

Japan: 780,000 porn site hits earns demotion

Unless I'm confused, that works out to 86,667 hits a month. That's 2889 hits a day (and I'm even giving the guy some leeway here, because I divided the month into 30 days instead of calculating for a five- or six-day workweek.) Assuming an 8 hour work day, that's 361 hits an hour or (drumroll, please) 6 porn hits a minute--every single minute this guy was at work. And nobody even noticed because "the desks are set apart."

Huh? Admitedly, I don't "get" porn. But I really, really don't get this. On so many different levels. . .

Free Concert at Zilker Park

The Austin Symphonic Band will be performing a free concert at Zilker Park's Hillside Theater on Sunday, May 11 at 7:00 p.m. If the weather's nice, it's a great opportunity to come sit on the hillside and enjoy an evening of live symphonic band music. I know several of you have kids who are starting band next year. Bring them out for a listen.

For more information, including our playlist for the concert, check out our website at www.asband.org

For Jake

Absinthe's Mind-Altering Mystery Solved

Moving on to Less Controversial Topics. . .

Poll: Bullshit Is Most Important Issue For 2008 Voters

Editorial Disclaimer

So, it turns out some of you may have found my previous post disturbing. And for all the wrong reasons. What was SUPPOSED to be disturbing was the fact that women are risking their lives for bizarre cosmetic procedures. BUT NOOOOOOOOO. Some of you are disturbed by the fact that I have labia. And that I admitted it. And that my husband seems to know about them.

Actually, I believe the real misunderstanding stems from my reference to the attention paid by my husband to the aforementioned body part. And I'll admit that it could be easily misread. My point was not that that he no longer pays them any attention, but rather that he no longer paid them any CRITICAL attention. Like my earlobes, you know? They're the same earlobes my husband has known for the past 18 years. They are what they are. They're not exceptionally beautiful earlobes. They're not unattractive earlobes. They're just my earlobes. And they serve their purpose. THAT's what I meant.

P.S., You're a goofball! (And yes, I'm talking to YOU.)

Wow! Have women ALWAYS been this messed up?

As a continuation to yesterday's (day before yesterday's? I don't know, the days all blur together somehow) theme, I offer you the following article from Glamour. This is admitedly not a magazine I read, but somehow this article ended up on my MSNBC homepage.

You want a prettier what?!


Now I understand that beauty ideals evolve and devolve over time, but why is it that so many women today are willing to risk everything to acheive more "beauty"? And in such seemingly silly ways? Shorten your toes? Remove your belly button? Reduce the size of your labia?? Yes, it's been a LONG LONG LONG time since anyone other than my husband has seen them (and, frankly, it's been a long time since my husband paid them any critical attention), but I can't think of a single intimate situation in which a partner reacted positively or negatively to the size of my labia. Maybe it was the era, maybe it was the guys I was with, but I think they were, without exception, pleased to have access to labia in general.

But my real question is this. How do I save my daughters from this? How can I, as their mother, protect them from a world full of images that could lead one of them to think she "has to" fix her pointy elbows, or reshape her flat shins or take some other similarly ridiculous surgical measure to repair a feature of her body that is quite perfect as it is?

My Beautiful Mommy

This book showed up on a forum I frequent and I find it more than a little disturbing.

Apparently, this fancy schmancy plastic surgeon, Michael Salzhauer, M.D wrote it to help kids cope with mommy's plastic surgery: "Dr. Michael Salzhauer, a renowned plastic surgeon, wrote My Beautiful Mommy to help patients explain their transformation to their children. The story guides children through Mommy's surgery and healing process in a friendly, nonthreatening way."

That's all fine and good, I guess (well, other than the cover art, which is, frankly, AWFUL). But what I want to know is where I can buy a copy of the book My Short Chubby Mommy: She May Not Be Beautiful and She Has No Business Wearing Low-Rider Jeans, But She Loves Me, Protects Me, Gets Me Where I Need to Be, and Plays with Me Every Single Day. I think my girls might need some friendly, nonthreatening help learning to cope with ME.

A Whole 'Nother Country

The kids in Zoe's class are working on a social studies research project. Their assignment is to create a poster about a country. Zoe chose Germany (Hi, Jenny!). Today she asked me to drop by her classroom so I could see how it was coming along. I looked at her poster and then glanced at the work of some of her classmates. One child had chosen Iraq. Another was researching Italy. There was France, Tunesia, Ireland, Mexico, Egypt, and Louisiana.

Louisiana?!?

I caught the teacher's eye and we exchanged grins. It turns out she grew up in the New Orleans area. She knows as well as I do that Louisiana is in fact a whole 'nother country.

And Then There Was Nothing

Last week I had Things To Say. This week--nothing.

How can that be?

Perhaps I used up all my brain power working on puns for my imaginary Catholic stand-up routine. And if you don't know what the hell I'm talking about, consider yourself one of the lucky ones.

Anyway, I'm still here. We're still busy. It seems we've entered the crazy-busy last weeks of school early this year. . .

As much as I'm NOT looking forward to the heat of the summer, I sure am looking forward to not getting up at 6:25 and rushing around like a crazy chicken all day long.

And the Honors Keep Rolling In

As much as I don't want to turn this space into a virtual bragbook of my children's accomplishments, we've had a full week of honors at the Cz house this week, and I'm pretty much bursting with pride. Not to be outdone by Zoe's essay award last week, Mia brought home this note today.

To the parents of Mia Cz,
I am pleased to inform you that your child's art work has been selected for exhibit in the 2008 Student Art Show of the Austin Independent School District. Outstanding art work of students in kindergarten through grade twelve will be on display at Once Congress Plaza, 111 Congress Avenue, from April 4 - April 21, 2008.
. . .
You can take pride in the excellent, creative work that your child has done in art class, and in this recognition of his or her achievement.

Mia is pretty stoked, to say the least. She can't wait for the exhibit opening on Sunday.

In other news, Zoe had her first bass guitar lesson today. She LOVED it. We'll have to see how she feels about practicing every day. . .

How in the world did Davy and I end up with these amazing little people????

Ridiculous Household Mishaps

While today's episode is admittedly no match for "Robyn Blows Out Candle Too Forcefully and Splashes Hot Wax in Eyes" in terms of danger and pain, "Robyn Opens Coffee Grinder Too Soon and Covers Entire Kitchen in a Rich, Aromatic Dust" ranks right up there on the basis of sheer stupidity.

What a mess.

News Flash

Oak pollen makes me grumpy.

Shostakovich, Prokofiev, and Tschesnokoff, Oh My!

The Austin Symphonic Band has a concert coming up on 4/12: "From Russia with Love and More" The title may not just roll off the tongue, but the music is good. And I even have a teeny, tiny little solo in a Frank Ticheli piece. Yeah me!

Here's a link to the relevant info: http://www.asband.org/

If you're interested, let me know and I can get you some tickets.

How to Get Money from a Giant Grocery Bag

Zoe had a big day yesterday! During the weekly assembly at school, she was awarded two $25 gift cards by a big fuzzy grocery bag. Our neighborhood HEB sponsored an essay contest for second graders, which Zoe won with her fabulous essay entitled "Nutrition" (catchy, no?).

It's possible that her grandfather and her first-grade teacher stuffed the ballot box, but who's to say? Either way, she was proud as could be. And so was I. Especially when she returned to her classroom and gave her teacher one of the gift cards "because I think you buy a lot of supplies for our class with your own money." Her teacher and I were both stunned.

After school, Zoe and I hit HEB and threw caution to the wind. She spent her bank in one shot.
* grown-up scissors
* a battery-powered pencil sharpener
* a 64 pack of crayons
* a lipstick for Mia
* a bookmark
* a lucky bamboo plant
* a box of yellow cake mix
* a tub of chocolate frosting

Then we came home and she baked a layer cake (pretty much) all by herself.

I tell you, it was a big day for an 8-year-old!

Nutrition
Nutrition is an important part of eating right. Fruits and vegetables play a big part in nutrition. If you'd ever herd of a food pyramid, that's balnced nutrition. Eating right isn't all you have to do to stay healthy. There's exercise to but that's a nother S.A.* Balenced nutrition is five servings of fruits and vegetables, two meats, a tad of oils, some oats or grains, and starches. If you didn't have a balnced nutrition, body fat would bild up and you would get fat.

* editor's note: This is my favorite part of the whole essay (or should I say "S.A."?).

It's All About What We Feed Our Children

It just occurred to me yesterday that this presidential election is the one my kids will remember. They'll be seven and eight when our next president is elected, and they're already very cognizant of the campaigns. They understand that we've never had a female president or a black president, and for that reason alone, they're fascinated by the possibilities. Zoe says she's vote for Obama. I don't know if that's because she knows I'd prefer Obama, or because she likes the timber of his voice. I do know that she can recognize his voice in under three syllables. I turned on the radio in the car yesterday and I changed the station as soon as I realized it was a news report so I wouldn't have to listen to the girls complaining. But as soon as I pushed the button, Zoe said "Go back, Mama. That was Obama!" I was surprised, especially since, in the less than two seconds the radio had been on that station, I hadn't processed who was speaking.

Mia, on the other hand, supports Clinton. She thinks we need a girl president. She's all about the girl-power, I guess. And being somewhat less emotionally needy than her big sister, I suppose she's able to look past Hillary's slightly prickly demeanor.

Also telling, neither one is talking about McCain. Perhaps because he's already been annointed as the Republican canditate and his name just doesn't come up as much. Or perhaps it's because they don't hear US talking abut him--although I'm fairly certain we do, just not nearly as much as the others.

That being said, I'd like to quote yesterday's post from an online acquaintance (a totally one-sided acquaintance--he's my owl-cam guru, and he also maintains a blog) describing his observations of another local child about Mia's age. I do not believe his post requires any additional commentary.

That's Not Politics, Lady

I walked into my neighborhood pharmacy this afternoon to collect a prescription. Standing ahead of me, picking up a prescription of her own, was a woman and her young son. The woman had red hair in quantity and she was dressed in a manner that made me think of her as middle- or upper-middle class, which wouldn't be uncommon in the area. Her son was, perhaps, five years old. The pharmacist behind the counter was asking her for a signature. The woman paused just long enough that the pharmacist began to explain, but the woman cut her off, saying "I understand; it's so I won't use it like crack cocaine." The woman laughed loudly at her own humor.

I stood there reflecting to myself that the woman had no idea what she was talking about, and that the sudden, specific reference to crack cocaine was odd, in any case. Apparently, however, the reference was familiar to her son, who promptly began speaking animatedly: "Yes, Mommy wants McCain. Mommy doesn't want that other one. That sea-monkey. Do you, Mommy?"

The woman, now angry, told her son: "Not now! I am not going to discuss politics in a pharmacy."

I can only assume from the context that "sea-monkey" was a reference to Senator Obama specifically, and to black people in general. I stood there lost for words, but convinced that when such a viewpoint was expressed in front of me, I had some obligation to stand up and say that it was wrong, lest my silence be taken for some level of sympathy with the viewpoint, thereby bolstering it. Unfortunately, I couldn't think of a single useful thing to say. The best I managed was a glare at her when she turned to leave.

As is usually the case, the right words came to me shortly after they were of no use to me – while I was walking through the parking lot. Since they weren't said when they were needed, I'll at least say them here: "That's not politics, lady, that's racism."

That woman makes me fear for my state and nation of today. Her son makes me fear for their future. Though started-off in the moral and intellectual dead-end of racism, in the long run the boy has the potential, and the responsibility (shared by us all), to think his way through the errors of our personal and collective past. Good luck, kid. The great state of Texas and our United States are depending on people like you to further their redemption.

Lexical Bling-Bling

Linguist Jeff Nunberg broadcast this commentary about the life and language of William F. Buckley earlier this month on Fresh Air. I never had much of an opinion of Buckley one way or the other. He seemed like a smart guy, but he might have slightly overplayed his hand with the Big Impressive Words. And besides that, he was a (ahem) Conservative. Nonetheless, this line toward the end of Nunberg's commentary made me giggle. And I could easily apply it to any number of writers that I edit on a regular basis: "His penchant for lexical bling-bling helped make him a cultural personage, but it also left him a lesser writer than his gifts might have allowed him to become."

Heheh. That's a good one. "Lexical bling-bling." I'm totally stealing it.

Tonight I Shattered My Daughter's World

It started out simply enough. A kid on the bus had told Zoe that Santa and the Easter Bunny aren't real. "But they are, aren't they, Mama?" she said. "I know because you wouldn't lie to me."

"Oh shit," I thought to myself. I was prepared to continue with the subterfuge until she played the lying card. But that was serious. You can't continue to lie to your child after she calls you on it. I just sort of stared at her, frozen in indecision.

"They are real, right?" she tried again.

I had to make a choice, and quick.

"The spirit of Santa is definitely real," I said, pleased with myself for my quick thinking.

"But the presents, Mama. Who brings the presents? It's not like YOU'RE putting the gifts in the stockings and hiding Easter eggs. . ." Her eyes filled with tears as she realized what she was saying.

And really, things went downhill from there. Zoe cried like her whole world had been ripped apart. I was hoping the realization that she was in on the big grown-up secret would make her feel better. But no. She simply took a mental inventory of everything Santa had ever given her, and the memory of each special gift was like a punch in the gut. I haven't seen that child cry that hard in a L O N G time.

And all that misery was brought to her by ME.

I need a really strong drink . . . or a time machine. If we could just go back to 8:03 tonight, everything would be fine.

From My Ivory Tower

I'm going to post this image (stolen from Sean) even though I know it makes me look like a snotty elitist snob. And maybe I am. It is possible this poor woman is the nicest woman walking the Earth. But still. . .


Allison--I think you should post this to your neighborhood's listserve. . .

A WhoWhat?

Yesterday I met the father of one of Zoe's friends for the first time. He'd been out of town for the last two months, and he'd just gotten back to Austin. He surprised his daughter by showing up at school for lunch, and we chatted for a few minutes while we waited for our kids to get settled in the cafeteria. It turns out he's a millwright. Anyone who knows what a millwright is, raise your hand.

Yeah. I'd never heard of it either. Turns out Zoe's Friend's Dad travels around the country moving, assembling, and maintaining heavy equipment at construction sites. There's an interesting entry regarding the history of millwrighting(?) millwrightery(?) at Wikipedia: Millwright job description.

Discovering things like this fascinates me. You get to a point in your life (let's call it 40), when you have a pretty good feel for the world around you--at least the little piece of it you inhabit. You sort of know what jobs there are--even if you don't know specifics about them. And then something like this--millwright--flies out of left field and smashes you in the face. How the heck had it never even occurred to me that highly-skilled people have to get that stuff where it needs to be and make sure it works?

Honestly, my ignorance astounds me.

Millwright!

That's your word of the day.

TLC

The best thing about Kashi's Oatmeal Dark Chocolate TLC Tasty Little Cookies isn't that they're made with all natural ingredients. It's not the 3 grams of fiber or the 7 grams of whole grains. It's certainly not the fact that they taste remarkably like hamster bedding with chunks of dark chocolate.

Nope. The very best thing about Kashi's Oatmeal Dark Chocolate TLC Tasty Little Cookies is that you can leave them out on the counter for a week, and they'll taste exactly the same as they did when they came fresh out of the wrapper.

I think perhaps the word "tasty" has a meaning I'm not aware of. I must consult my Oxford English Dictionary toot sweet!*

BLECH.

* Yes. I know that's not right. But I don't have a clue how to spell it in French (?) and I like the way it looks this way. In fact, I've just decided that if I ever become a roller derby queen or a burlesque star, I'll make "Toot Sweet" my stage name. . .

The Primary Thing

Today, for the first time ever in my 6-days-shy-of 40 years, I voted in a primary. Technically I early voted in a primary, since the Texas primaries are scheduled for March 4th. But I had to drop by Randall's for some milk and there they were.

I actually only voted in one of the elections on the ballot. I figure people more informed than I can choose the candidates to run in the races I don't know anything about. I'll educate myself between March and November, and I'll be ready to vote the full ballot then.

A funny conversation took place as I was paying for my milk after I voted. The cashier looked at my "I voted" sticker and said, "Is this the real election? Or is it just the . . ." Her voice faded off as she searched for the right word.

"Primaries," I said, and she nodded. "There seem to be an awful lot of people voting in the primaries," I said.

"Yeah, well I haven't," said the cashier. "I'm not even registered."

"Well, get registered!" I said, with optomistic enthusiasm.

"No," she said, "It was a personal decision not to." Her tone of voice was clearly meant to convey that she had solid ideaolgical reasons for abdicating her democratic right (responsibility?).

But what the hell? This woman (in her mid-20s, I'd guess) opened the conversation by letting it be known that wasn't informed enough to know for sure what the gobs of people were coming into the store to vote for, but somehow she was so disenchanted with the democratic process that she had made a conscious and informed choice not to register.

Well, I guess that's one less dumb person voting.

Oh crap. Did I say that out loud???

Sometimes my job is funny.

Take today. I'm working on state assessment preparation for New York, Georgia, Pennsylvania, and Texas. I'm editing passages and test items designed to practice and review specific elementary reading and writing skills as outlined by each state. Let me tell you, this is some dry, dry, dry stuff. But most of the writers I edit are outstanding. They can write quality passages and valid item within parameters that would paralyze most mortals. But every now and again they start to lose it.

Today has been one of those days.

This morning a writer submitted a 6th grade fable in which a rooster character was named "Cock." Thankfully, the cat character was named "Cat."

A few hours later, I received this gem of a passage:

Last week we held a meeting. As the unlikely leader of the group, I was in charge of getting the volunteers back on track. I prepared this speech before the meeting, and then read it to the group of volunteers.
“I know I don’t need to remind you again. Forming this group is likely very important to you. If we don’t follow the rules exactly, we risk being intermingled with those other groups. Now, I know there are a lot of boxes to unwrap. But if you get started now, it shouldn’t take too long. Once the boxes are open, you’ll be able to move on to the next task. You have to comb through the papers inside to find out if there are any preexisting groups like ours. You know, likeminded groups that have already been approved.”

I understand all the words, but I can't even begin to fathom what the writer was thinking about when composing this piece.

I think it's time to turn off the computer and call it a day.

EVOL

To shoot this short film, the director had the two lead actors do their roles in reverse. Then he reversed the film so the main characters are moving one way and the whole rest of the world is moving backwards. I think it's beautiful, even though I can't quite get my head around it.

I'm so happy there are people in this world who can surprise me with this kind of whimsy. It's like a poem on film. I love it. (Which means I must have a mushy sentimental side after all. . .)

Are you listening "Super" delegates?

My die-hard conservative daddy--the one who, to the best of my knowledge, has voted Republican since he voted for Reagan when I way yea' high--told me something interesting today. He's worked out his voting plan.

If McCain gets the Republican nomination (which seems inevitable at this point) and Obama gets the Democratic nomination, he's voting Dem.

However, McCain is the Republican and if Hillary Clinton takes the Democratic nomination, he'll vote Pub.

Interesting, no?

A Stupid Vent--feel free to skip this one

Those of you who know me well know that I love to give gifts. I truly enjoy choosing gifts for people I care about, and I'll often see something perfect for someone and have to wait months for the appropriate opportunity to give it to them. Maybe I do it because it's so hard for me to say how I feel--and this is an easier way to show people they're important to me and that I care enough about them to think about what they would really enjoy, or what would make them laugh, or what they need and don't even know it.

I *KNOW* that not everyone sees gift giving the same way I do. In fact many of the people I know and love actually find it to be an unwelcome obligation.

So, these are my disclaimers. I get that I'm a freak, and I get that you might not derive as much pleasure from choosing a gift for me as I do for you. I'm cool with that. I really, truly am.

But what I'm NOT cool with is somebody asking me what I would like for, let's say, an upcoming birthday. And asking me again. And asking me again, more insistently. And then, once I've finally come up with something out of sheer guilt, deriding me because what I suggest isn't something they would want or because it's not "special" enough. Are you kidding me? They why the hell not just get me what YOU want to get me? Or get me nothing. Or donate some money to a charity in my name and be done with it. Really! Any of those options are PERFECTLY fine with me! But don't freaking put me down after you've been on my ass for a month just so you can check me off your to-do list.

It occurred to me today. What I *really* want for my 40th birthday is for you to stop riding me about what I want for my birthday. Just be nice to me. THAT's what I want for my birthday.

Now, if only I could figure out how to get that message out to the right person.

Heavy sigh.

News Flash

One of the hardest things about freelancing is forcing yourself to work when you just don't wanna.

And in other breaking news. . .
Working out isn't fun.

These earth-shattering revelations are being brought to you by cedar and heavy winds. Because they have apparently sapped me of the will to get off my ass and do anything.

Martin Luther King, Jr.
by Mia

For homework (which she conveniently forgot to tell me about until after dinner the night before it was due), Mia had to write a short essay about a famous American. Mia selected MLK and wrote her "essay" based on her prior knowlege.

Martin Luther King jr. is a vayery good man. He died in 1968. He was a good man because he led many marches. And his bigist one was the march for the colerd peple and the wight peple to have pece!

How sweet is that?

(Editing to add--"1968" was not part of Mia's prior knowledge. She asked Davy for the year MLK died.)

What Would YOU Do?

I need to learn how to do a poll. I'm sure blogger has a tool for it, but I don't know where to find it.

But we can still do a poll without the fancy graphics, right? We're all well educated here. We can add up the 3-4 votes in our heads and interpret the results on our own. Yeah. That's right. We don't need no stinking automatic poll thingy.

So here's the question. . .

Assume you are having an instant message chat with a friend. Someone you know-in real life, not just online. Let's say this person is a good friend with a questionable sense of humor. So, in the middle of said IM chat, good friend sends you a hyperlink. Then, in the next line, good friend says "Don't click that link." Next line: "Really. I mean it. Don't click that link."

What do you do? Do you click the link? Be honest now. And if you're reading this but you don't ever comment for some reason or other, tell me in person. I need a good statistical representation. Because, well, I just do.

I Don't Know About This

According to a report on KXAN, Austin is one of the 20 most romantic cities in the United States. Based on what, you ask? Well, apparently Amazon.com compiled the list based on the sale of romance novels and relationship books. Austin is #18 on a list that includes Cambridge, Irvine, and Ann Arbor.

It doesn't take much in the way of critical thinking skills to see that they've drawn the wrong conclusion. If these cities were so damn romantic, why would people be buying romance novels and relationship books?

Seems to me, at least based on Amazon's criteria, this would indicate that Austin is actually one of the LEAST romantic cities in America, or one of the least romantically successful.

Or--and I'm going out on a limb here-- MAYBE people who live in Austin (and Cambridge, Irvine, and Ann Arbor) buy a lot of books from Amazon.com in general. But that doesn't make for a very sexy headline. . .

LOL!

So, I'm proof reading a work-related document for the husband, which is kind of funny, because I understand very little in it. But lo! Here's something I didn't know!! My very own brilliant husband is the GeT SME in the IBM GNA.

Who knew?

Also Interesting

Me: Why don't you ever read my blog?
Husband: You never sent me the URL.
Me: You never asked for it.
Husband: I figured if you wanted me to read it, you'd send me a link.
Me: I figured if you were interested, you'd ask.

Hhhhhhhhhhhhhhmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

Interesting. . .

This afternoon I ran my dad, a moderate-to-conservative Republican, through the questions of the candidate matching quiz that I posted a few days ago. As I asked the questions, I realized that the survey is very, very biased toward Democrats. In many cases there was no answer he could get behind at all and the "Republican" answer was almost always phrased in a way that was blatantly negative. But Daddy did his best, and came out with an 81% match with Hillary Clinton.

Believe me when I tell you---if there is one candidate that my father would NEVER, EVER, EVER vote for, it is Hillary Clinton.

He had a good sense of humor about it though. And he surprised me with a few of his answers--most specifically his support of the legalization of marijuana. I read the question twice because I thought he had misunderstood the answer choices. But no.

So now I'm asking myself: Who was that man in my house this afternoon?

Andrew Olmstead

This is the last post of a U.S. soldier who kept a blog for the Rocky Mountain News. He wrote this entry and asked a friend to post it in the case of his death.

It's worth the five minutes it will take you to read it.

Wow.

www.andrewolmstead.com

Who the Hell is Chris Dodd?

I answered a few questions about current issues at gotoquiz.com 2008 Presidential Candidate Matching Quiz. The answers matched me up with the following candidates according to how I feel about the issues.

I'm stunned to see Giuliani at the top of my list of Republicans. I'm not sure how that can be. Other than that, and the fact that I have no idea who Chris Dodd is, these results make sense.

P.S. Sorry about the blue font. It imported that way and I'm too lazy to figure out how to make it more readable.

84% Chris Dodd
84% Barack Obama
82% Hillary Clinton
81% John Edwards
78% Joe Biden
77% Bill Richardson
74% Mike Gravel
73% Dennis Kucinich
52% Rudy Giuliani
45% John McCain
35% Mitt Romney
34% Mike Huckabee
29% Tom Tancredo
27% Ron Paul
23% Fred Thompson