"What did he see?" my mom said

My child just insisted I call up Gramma and Mustache to tell them,

"I SEE PENIS INNA SKY!!!"


It's clouding up now, so I think ya missed your chance to see it. PS I totally stole this photo from the internets.

let this be a beacon in the googlewilderness

Did you know that (until I hit Publish) there are no google results for I Hate My Alumnae Magazine? Nor, believe it or not, for the more universal I Hate My Alumni Magazine.

Yet I truly cannot believe that I am the only one who does in fact, hate and revile her alumnae magazine. Of which we receive two per quarter. That's two more than I require.

I just...hate everything about it. It is a glossy, thick, expensive looking thorn in my side. I'm just waiting until my year's Class Notes section stops being IN-FUCKING-SUFFERABLE and starts being about who is merely Not Dead Yet.

Yeah, fuck you, alumnae magazine.

And if you've landed here because this was the only google hit for I Hate My Alumnae Magazine, then know that you are not alone.

Go On, Point and Laugh!

Would you like to see a picture from before I owned a hair dryer? Really? Come on, it's hilarious!





This photo is ten years old. Ten! As you can see my hair is embarrassed to be associated with me and is trying to flee in all directions. Now I beat it into submission daily with red-hot instruments.

This is all by way of introducing the inhabitants of this photo, of course. One of whom I am married to, and two who live sadly, maddeningly far away now. In college we were nearly always within shouting distance of one another, but I haven't seen one of these ladies for three whole years, and we haven't all been together for FIVE WHOLE YEARS. And tomorrow night, we will all be together in my very own house! Huzzah! I am excited! And worried, because the house, she is a mess. But excited!!

(Oh my god that hair though. What was I THINKing?)

Sadly, No

The boy demanded to SEE BOCK BAMA 'GAIN after dinner and who am I to deny him? He sat mostly still for quite a while during the speech, but finally turned and said,

"Obama gonna sing?"

Sorry to disappoint, kid. You must be thinking of John Ashcroft.

The Day

I can do many things well enough, but few things outstandingly. One talent in particular that I lack is the fancy-talking. So I can't write about all the layers of emotion I feel today and all the big thoughts that are going through my mind. Luckily, I know you're all right there with me, and I don't have to explain. And I'll let a picture do some of the talking.

so

my mother is twittering.

Pointless complaint

The guy upstairs, despite being very normal and friendly in person, is an email jerk. I bet he doesn't even realize. But every email he sends is bossy and curt. A couple months ago he sent around this email saying "whoever has been using the trash cans please put them out on trash night." Whoever has been using the trash cans? Do someone people not produce trash? Do YOU not produce trash, dude? Really? Kudos, buddy. Whay to be green but seriously. CHILL. Last month he was really irritable because some tradesperson still had his phone number and not mine (I am currently serving out my sentence as building president) and kept sending increasingly short and snippy messages about it; like, whatever, dude, I have given them my number and honestly is it that big a deal if they call occasionally? Just tell them sorry wrong number, right? And now today he is emailing me telling me I need to thank the snowblower guy. Ok, on the face of it that's reasonable but then wait hold on a second--if you feel grateful to the fellow just say thank you. Don't email someone else to do it for you. You're going to leave it up to me? And anyway it just seems bossy. Tellin' me what to do. I am not a fan.

He's a nice guy in person though, like I said, so I find this baffling.

Facebook continues to jump shark

I've mentioned before that facebook is not as cutting edge as I once thought
but seriously
my grandmother just friended me

The real reason the churches resent Darwin

On Sunday mornings before noon, the Harvard museums are all free. Free I tell you! So that is where you find us, along with half the toddler population of Cambridge, at the Natural History/Peabody complex.

Harvard's Museum of Natural History galleries (and the upper floors of the Ethnography museum) have been largely untouched by modern museum practices. They do not have carefully curated, minimalist exhibits with guided learning. They have huge glass cases stuffed to the gills with dusty, musty, sawdust-leaking taxidermy surrounded by mothballs. And it is fabulous. It is like a big, indoor, dimly-lit zoo where the animals all hold still to be observed instead of hiding behind trees. The hippopotamus is cracked at the seams but it doesn't keep a certain someone from sprinting toward it yelling EPPAPAMUS!

There are some corners which have been slightly updated, though, including the Hall of Vertebrate Paleontology (DINOSAURS! RAR!), and they have a jolly crew of volunteer interpreters--elderly people and teenagers--who follow you around eager to share their knowledge. It's the same folks every week and by now they recognize us. They know that I will stand about five feet back from the Pet A Live Giant Millipede table while Mr. Fearless will elbow aside four 8-year-olds in order to get a front-row seat. They read nature stories at 11 and they have dinosaur teeth you can touch.

I don't think that much of the educational bit is sinking in with the boy at this point; he's just as interested in sitting on the benches in the hall of birds to watch big kids go by as he is in looking at the specimens. He has his favorites though--the aforementioned hippo; the moose; the yak; and of course the monkeys. He seems to like pretending to be scared a little; he kept insisting that a monk seal (whose glass eyes actually give him a goofy aspect) was going to bite off his arm. Whatever dude, that seal has been dead since 1911.

If you're looking for a place to go on Sunday mornings that isn't a religious place, can't get much better than this free, fun, and mildly creepy joint.

junk solution

If you have junk to be rid in a great hurry of may I recommend the Free listings on craigslist. Last night I posted this and within ten minutes someone had claimed it. Faster than leaving it on the street on trash night! Less fussy than Freecycle! I also received twenty other inquiries, one "WTF?" and one "Don't lose heart, Jesus loves you."

To sum up, craigslist is hungry for junk.

Where to even begin

Hey! As these children are warehoused in residential facilities and group homes and/or shuffled from one overcrowded foster home to another I'm sure they'll be thinking "Thank Jeebus at least I'm not being cared for by a single person or a gay couple!!! And thank the Invisible Pink Unicorn my abusers voted to keep it that way!!!"

I effed up

forgetfulness and 'someone else will do it' disease have conspired to leave me newspaperless today. I've been to all the all night drugstores and grocery stores and all the street boxes, obviously they are all gone. do you think people will sell them on ebay??

The Story of Chicken Nugget

When I offer the boy chicken he says:
"chicken NUGGet!"

I must state for the record that although he has had pizza, french fries, ice cream, and sour patch kids he found on the bookshelf, I have never offered him a chicken nugget. He has obviously been frequenting the late night drive through on his own time.

I told my parents this and they thought it was funny.

Then my dad created a chicken nugget recipe extra crispy, froze the chicken nuggets, obtained dry ice, and my mother is driving down this weekend with chicken NUGGets. While it is not the only excuse she is using for doing so (something about canvassing New Hampshire for Obama), I believe it may be a factor.

Who are these people?!? If I had requested a chicken nugget as a child they would have said "Eat your meatloaf."

PS McCain can kiss NH goodbye if my mother is out there pushing Obama. She cannot be stopped.

Quiz Time

What do these three items have in common?








Answer:
If you are nearly two, they are all pronounced "FUCK".

Yeah, you lazy bums, wake up and get to it

Me: Mustache and Gramma have to leave. They have to go home.
Kid: Why?*
Me: Well, they have lots of work to do.
Kid: Why sleeping?

*the endless WHY has arrived.

File under D for Duh, Dumbass

O RLY?

I'm not saying health insurance companies are dumb, but....

My child (<2) today received a letter informing him that a good way to prevent asthma attacks is to quit smoking. It's never too late to quit smoking.

The fun is over

Recently joined Facebook, but now the relatives have found me. Topics now off limits to me on there are: politics; swearing; the existence of this blog.

CURSES!

OH SNAP!

OD: Am I cute?

Boy: No! Mama cute. I cute.

(he and I can agree to disagree, though)

TM sarah palin

From now on when I get treated bad or dissed in any way due to Teh Gay, I'm going to say "I'm feeling kind of tolerated right now."