Weekend

Here in the Town of Fucking Nonsense where I live at the corner of Crazy and Ridiculous there is a Ridiculous Indicator much like the fire hazard level.  The default level is "Probably you shouldn't make a plan because if you do it will get fucked up at the last minute" and then goes up to full blown "drop everything" crisis mode.   A typical weekend will involve all levels.  Friday, the level was just at its default normal and so Sara and Jessica came over for dinner and basketball.  Jessica, a hardcore Lakers fan, has Dish network and therefore is no longer able to view Lakers games.  Sara and I do not have Dish network and so Jessica is moving in on game days.  Friends don't let friends renew Dish.  No Lakers and no David Tutera??  No brainer.  On Fridays after some wine we also usually play fuck with Randi and Earl because Randi and Earl are easy to mess around with.  They don't give a crap if you are knocking them over, sitting on them, poking their head or anything else normal dogs would mind.  They particularly enjoy being used as pillows.

In heaven

No Sara is not strangling her, just wrapping the Lakers scarf around her.

In heaven, again.

On Saturday, the Crazy indicator still measuring at default level, Max and I did a trial run of him staying here.  We went to Target and bought a new toy and then we had lunch and he threw his turkey on the floor.  We watched Sesame Street and he took a mini-nap and then woke up freaking hysterical because he didn't know where he was.  Then we watched more Sesame Street.  I told my dad that watching him here is easier because it's much smaller.  Less running around.  My baby proofing the house had neglected to remove four lighters from baby height.  They have since been removed.

 Saturday evening and Sunday morning the top was nearly blown off the Crazy indicator because here at Crazy and Ridiculous you can not make a stinking plan and expect it to happen.  And so, Max is not staying here this week at all.  Suddenly my whole weekend opened up.  So I came home and did some yoga with Earl.

Down dog with down dog

Then we got caught up on TV and then I went to Sara's for dinner and basketball.  Today, we're going to go to Joshua Tree.  Hopefully that won't get fucked up.

Blood

The day before yesterday I woke up and there was blood on the bed.  It was not from me.  Here is the exact conversation I had:

Me:  (to Clark) I can't look at you because I'm going to start crying.
Clark:
Me: (to Clark) Really, don't look at me because I will start crying and I haven't cried one day this week.
Clark:
Me:  (to Clark) Please (sob) don't (sob) die! (sob).

So despite my super busy week of furnishing a mini-toddler room/nursery in anticipation of over night stays this week while my parents celebrate their anniversary, baby- proofing the house for the same reason, scheduling the handymen to come and fix the leaking washer and to put together the crib, I had to take one Puppy Clark to the vet this afternoon so I would know if he was knocking at death's door.

Clark hasn't been in a car since me and him and Sarah Warah moved in a whirlwind day from our ghetto house in Victorville to a nicer house in Apple Valley when I came home and found the notice on the door saying that the ghetto house in Victorville was going to be auctioned off because the owners were in foreclosure.  Today though, I  dutifully came home did a little switcher-oonie with the dogs so Randi and Earl had no idea Clark and I were off for an adventure and then put Clark in the car where I covered everything up with blankets so his fur wouldn't get on anything.  Clark is not a very relaxed dog and he was on high high alert for several hours.  He was on particular high alert when they used the catheter to get a urine sample.  Give me 40 sophomores and the passé composé any day over that.  Two hours and $99 later we found out that there is nothing wrong with Clark.  He's fine.  He looks great for 13 years old.  Fabulous.

In other great news I sold my road bike to Cesar, Clark's arch nemesis.  I haven't told Clark because I didn't want him to be even more unsettled since the transaction will undoubtedly involve Cesar coming here.  We've settled on a price, but I told Cesar I would take $20 off for each single fireman he brought by the house and $30 if they were shirtless.  Who knows, maybe I'll end up paying him.  We can only hope.

Home

I haven't been posting too much because I'm hardly ever home any more it seems.  It's gotten so bad that I told my dad maybe we should talk about me getting my room back over there.  He just laughed.  Probably because he knows he would have to put up another shed to house all of the fabric my mother has in my old room.

In any case, mostly I just sleep at my house and feed the dogs.  And sometimes I try to catch up on TV.  Mostly I do this at 5:30am when I know that the possibility of a crisis is greatly reduced.  What this means is that my pack of dogs feels more than slightly neglected and which Randi and Earl expressed Saturday or Sunday by removing my bike helmet from the garage and chewing it up.  Now, granted, I have not been using my bike helmet because I don't have my road bike or my mountain bike, having lent them out to people who could actually ride them.  The sight of my chewed up bike helmet was the final sign that I need to sell my mountain bike and road bike and so it was with great reluctance that I texted Chadwick to help me figure out a fair price for them.  I'm trying to put on my big girl pants about it because I know that I'm not ever going to ride my bikes again and I know that I'm very lucky that I can even walk again without pain and most of the time I feel like that, but then Monday morning Coach Box brought a Cyclevélo magazine in French to my classroom as a present and I spent all morning oogling it like it was Playboy.  And the truth is I'm a bit sad to get rid of my mountain bike and road bike because I really enjoyed riding my bikes.  I'm keeping my green commuter bike with the basket, but it did not make all the boys jealous like my Gary Fisher HiFi Pro fancy frame with the fancy fork and seat with the rip from when I fell doing the Blue Diamond trail outside of Vegas with Bill and convertible to tubeless wheels or my LeMond road bike.  The Gary Fisher HiFi Pro had replaced the broken frame on my Gary Fisher Cake II Deluxe which was my first real mountain bike and which I used to chase Nick Viselli around Bell Mountain one summer and which went on many many mountain bike trips and which got hike a biked all around the desert.

In other news, my classroom faces the front parking lot which allows me to keep a close eye on who is coming and going every day.  And don't think I don't because it gives me something to do while I'm repeating for the 17th time in one hour "Mario a fumé un café où il a bu un café?"  Well today I was busy quizzing kids on l'Invasion des Normands au XII au IV siècles when three men (boys) with dumb hats on walked up the sidewalk. I thought those three look like they're up to no good.  Not too much longer the three men (boys) walked back to their car WHEN the one man (boy) undid his belt and PULLED DOWN HIS PANTS!  I was passing out papers and I put my paper in front of my face and exclaimed, "Il a baissé son pantalon!  Son pantalon!!"  Now, yes, it is true that this man (boy) did not moon me.  It is true that this man (boy) was wearing whatever the fuck men (boys) wear underneath their pants but over their underoos and that was what I saw but I'm not going to lie- it was shocking to see him undo his belt and then drop is pants!  Son pantalon!  In front of my fucking room!! I promptly called the office and said, "Yes, um, so there's these guys..."  They sent over George, the security guard.  George and I spend a lot of time after school driving around in the cart delivering snack while George throws out the most obscure and awesome movie references.  Today in reference to the pants dropping it was Porky's.  Porky's!  One day he threw out the name Richard Grieco and then talked about License to Kill.  George is awesome.  George asked for a description.  I couldn't give him one because all I could remember were these punks dumb hats.  George told me that regrettably, without a better description than some kid with a dumb hat pulled down his pants and didn't actually flash anyone  anything besides the stupid not underwear that men (boys) with dumb hats wear that he was probably not going to be able to identify the perpetrator.

People

It's been a little crazy over here.  Here's the low down.

Pumpkin Patch
Max and I went to the pumpkin patch and Jessica took pictures.  We saw ponies, goats, a llama and pumpkins.  Nobody cried or pooped in their pants.

 Aurevoir
I traded in the monster truck for a Toyota Camry Hybrid.  I love it.  I love it so much that I'm afraid something bad is going to happen because I am so happy with it.  It's got a back up camera.  It's got a sunroof and it even fits in the garage!  I'm going to drive everywhere!

Bedwetting
Clark has started wetting himself at night.  It's a problem because of all the normal reasons but also because I think it means he's on a slow downward slide and this makes me despondent.

Arrr Matey

My mom made Max a fabulous Halloween outfit and last week I sent out an SOS to the ladies in Married Lady Book Club because I couldn't find any place to take Max in his pirate outfit.  I knew that if there was any group that had its pulse on the kid activities in the desert it was Married Ladies Book Club.  Max and I went in costume, he as a pirate and me in my store bought mom costume, to the Fall Festival where we saw "people."  My mom costume was so realistic that people kept telling me how cute my son was.  We sure had them fooled.  Max loved seeing all of the "people" and we pretty much just walked around for an hour looking cute.  We're going to put on the same outfits on Halloween and go to trunk or treat somewhere and maybe to Sara's house where she'll give me candy.

Saturday me and Max had another busy day tagging along with the real moms.  First we went to the soccer game where we watched seven year olds kick at a ball and then after a nap we crashed the soccer party at Kristin's house.   Having not spent a lot of time with kids or people who don't have gray hair, Max tends to be a little clingy and shy, but by the time we left the soccer party he had left the security of my side to pick up rocks and eat things off the ground like all the other kids.   At one point I worried that I was going to have to flee the country because he looked a bit sunburned, but lucky for me it was just rosey cheeks.  In either case he was so tired he told me night-night when we got home and went right to sleep.

That In Which the Hapless Heroine Goes To The South

On Friday I took a mini-trip to Charlotte, North Carolina to visit Ami for a couple of days.  I prepped the house and Pack and I left work early and cancelled a college class and flew out and back in a whirlwind.  Before I left I tried to get Randi and Earl to take pledges to be good ("I (state your name) do solemnly swear to be good for Jessica and to not take anything out of the garage and to definitely not leave the yard or kill my sibling.")  They refused, but I decided to leave anyways.  I had some goals while I was in North Carolina.

1.  Get a NASCAR hat.

2.  Eat some BBQ.

3.  Not be in terrible pain.

I only really did one of those things.  My mini-vaycay started out with a sore back because on Wednesday my impatient self found myself in front of a lollygagging student who would not move he and his desk fast enough so I pushed the said student's desk until he was in the spot I desired.  This, turns out, was not the smartest thing I've ever done and I felt it nearly immediately.  I was a bit worried about how I might manage on my vacation.  As it turns out, not so good.  The combination of the desk pushing incident, the 5.5 Susan Kommen breast cancer walk, massage and who knows what else had me so sore on Sunday I had to dope up to go to Target.

I wanted to get a NASCAR hat because NASCAR is funny and I thought it might help me get a man if I was walking around wearing a NASCAR hat. Unfortunately there were no NASCAR hats for sale in the Charlotte Target and Ami flat out refused to take me to the NASCAR Hall of Fame and she laughed at me when I suggested that I might walk there while she was at work.  If me, my mom and dad and Max could just pick up and move I think I might want to move to Charlotte because despite being a large city it doesn't feel like it at all.  There's green spaces and everything!

Walk with 24,000 people

Me and Ami after the walk

My dad wanted me to bring back some Carolina BBQ which caused some fierce discussion about whether or not I could buy some BBQ and then freeze it and then bring it home.  (Ami said, yes of course she used to freeze bacon to take to France and me and her boyfriend Kousay said, that's dumb.)  I settled for a bottle of Mac's BBQ sauce which I purchased and packed into my bag.  This, of course, cause a minor hiccup with TSA because BBQ sauce is not among the TSA allowable items and due to the security issue I had to check my bag making my dad's BBQ sauce the most expensive bottle of BBQ sauce ever.

Grits and biscuits.

BBQ

No dangerous weapons or BBQ sauce

 I got home and Jessica reported out that Randi and Earl and Clark had all been fabulous and well-behaved.  Again, Jessica is not prone to exaggeration so I had no choice but to believe her.

Carolina Panthers' newest fan.

Put Down the Remote

For the second time in three days I have had to force myself to turn off David Tutera and back away from the remote.  I am in love.  Friday, I watched My Fair Wedding Unveiled absolutely enthralled.  Riveted.  It was an extraordinary moment and today I started to have a My Fair Wedding marathon because of course Friday I set the DVR to record every single episode so that I don't ever miss another minute of David Tutera.  I think David Tutera should make an app and it could be called Pocket David Tutera HD and you could use your camera phone to show yourself to David Tutera and then he could exclaim, "Beautiful!  You look absolutely gorgeous!" like you are the only woman in the world he's ever said that to.  And then all the bad in your life would be instantly evaporated by Pocket David Tutera HD's positive and upbeat encouragement.  Sigh.  What if I wrote in to David Tutera to help me for my wedding, but the only problem would be I just don't have a groom.   He could find one for me.  I know he could because he's amazing.

Last week I went to the beach, which is where my mom and dad prefer to bicker about nothing when they are not in Apple Valley.  It was hot, which I don't generally find to be the case at the beach.  In fact, in general, I do not like the beach.  I did my master's degree at UC Santa Barbara and every summer I spent more time in a sweatshirt than beach clothes.  In any case, last week it was hot at the beach and we actually went to the beach so that Max could spend some quality time in the sand.  Only Maximus doesn't actually enjoy sitting in the sand so much.  Possibly this could because he is always wearing too many clothes and my mom is afraid he's going to be dirty.  Actually,  Max doesn't really like the beach at all.  He's scared of the water, the sand, the waves.  He likes the birds, but much prefers to be held if he leaves the beach blanket.  I set him in the sad and said showed him how to fill up everything with sand so that when we got in Grandma's car there was sand everywhere.

One person is happy to be at the beach.

After the beach I made a stop to visit my bestest buddy in all of Strasborg, France, Jack and his family, which was also good times.  It was so decadent because I didn't even get home until 9:00 which is an hour after my bedtime! 

Thursday, Earl and Clark found a unique solution to the ridiculous problem of that they can not sleep on the bed together by putting a pillow in between themselves.  I think they also probably made the rule that nobody could cross the line.  Ever.  I don't know how they did this.

My side.  Your side.

 Friday my mom bought suspenders for Max because she says his butt is too little to keep up his pants.  I think he just might need smaller pants, but of course I'm no kind of toddler clothing expert so my opinion is considered purely ambient noise.  This makes Max look even more like he's wearing "Papa pants."  My dad's dad, my papa, used to wear his pants up to his armpits and that's how Max looks wearing these suspenders.

Actual Papa Pants.
Luckily my dad does not wear his pants like this or we'd never be able to tell them apart.

 Yesterday my dad and Max (in suspenders) came and visited me at work while I was trying to get everything done before 12:30 before the place got realarmed so that I didn't have work at all the rest of the weekend.  Facts were sketchy, but undoubtedly either Grandma was getting on Grandpa's nerves or Grandpa was getting on Grandma's nerves and some space had to be created so as to preserve marital harmony.  Max was once again wearing his suspenders and was looking quite stylish.  We walked over and visited Jessica who was in charge of yesterday's Saturday school and we went all over campus and even saw four cows in the ag department who, unfortunately for everyone, did not "mooo."

Sylin.

All the news we get in the desert. 

That is to say-none.

Empty Newstands

You Need This

A List of all of the ass-kicking and head shooting Jack Reacher has done.  Thank you to Sara for finding and forwarding it.

Click HERE