So I'm reading Peony in Love, and I'm getting acquainted with the long lost (thank goodness) practice of foot binding. I understand that beauty trends come and go, but come on. Back in the day, these women actually used to break the bones in their feet, wrap them up tightly with bandages, and try to make their feet look like they were about three inches big!
Foot binding isn't something I know much about, so I did a bit of research on google and saw some pictures. Frightening. Disturbing. Makes me want to run to my couch, curl my feet under my bottom and wrap up in a quilt all the way up to my neck! No touching the feet! And I claim mine are ugly, but I still don't want them broken! Yikes!
I don't care to know much more about foot binding, but something I would like to learn more about is that scrumptious Brad Womack, Bachelor Extraordinaire! I haven't watched "The Bachelor" in a few years because the girls on the show disgusted me. I could only watch so many of them prance around drunk in their bikinis vying for the guy's attention for so long, and what's worse, is that the guy always fell for it! He'd always choose a handful of flirty, giggly girls who relied on their boobs and bar dancing skills to try to reel in the guy, but leave the cute girl with some brains and a bit of class over in the corner. I had to quit watching.
But last night, I just happened to flip to that channel and stumbled upon 34-year-old Brad from Texas, and I admit to being a bit stunned. Granted, he may be like the rest, but evidence thus far shows that this guy may indeed value something other than a blonde with a nice rack. True, he did give a rose to Mallory who said, "I think you should take off your pants," but he did hand out the first impression rose to Jeni, a dancer from the Phoenix Suns, because he liked her laugh. Aside from all of that, Mr. Womack is H-O-T. They weren't kidding when they called him the hottest bachelor ever. It's true. And, he's a millionaire! What's not to love?
I should probably take a moment to say that A) I have nothing against blondes (Evidenced by the five best friends of mine who are blonde and the blonde highlights I pay the Hair God to give life to my swampy-brown-colored hair) and B) I have nothing against big boobs. In fact, if I had them, I'm sure I would use them to my advantage. I would just be sure to use my brain first. And Finally, C) I have nothing against occasional drunkenness either. I did once jump off a pontoon boat and swim amongst potential predators in the intercoastal waterways of Florida after drinking too much Guinness.
Anyway, the Bachelor is now on my TV lineup. He's too hot to miss. But, Kyle Chandler is still my new official TV boyfriend, followed closely by Wentworth Miller. Thank goodness for all the television hotties! WAHOO!
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Sunday, September 23, 2007
Bitter, party of one ...
your table is now available.
Yep. That's where I've been lately. Lost in the Land of Bitter, sitting by myself at the table. And I have to say, it was quite lonely there. Everyone else around me has been happy and peppy and full of warm, fuzzy thoughts. I'm glad and thankful that I've been tolerated by everyone, even though I'm sure my grumpiness was quite annoying. But, you can all relax. The Bookworm has returned, happy and optimistic once again.
It all started with the Edward Cullen book signing party ending before it even began. Cousin broke her foot, so we couldn't go to the signing. Obviously, her foot was and still is the main priority, but we were both quite pouty and bummed about the cancellation of our road trip to Cinncinati. And we even got our shirts! The "Bite Me" fan club shirts arrived the day before, but alas, it wasn't meant to be. Cousin is still healing and isn't happy about the foot, but she is doing quite well despite her boot and crutches. She's getting out and about, heading to the library and bookstore, and maybe soon ... a mall! We'll see about that one. :)
I started sending out queries again, which is always draining. It's a long process, and I'm definitely happiest when writing, not when I'm sending out letters to total strangers hoping, really, really, really, hoping that they will be interested enough to ask for a partial or full manuscript. Rejections are expected, and believe me, they come. Luckily I've had success in the past and have gotten requests. I try to stay positive and tell myself that persistence will pay off, bringing more requests in the future. Still, even though I expect rejections, even though I know it's part of the process, and yes, even though I'm aware that some of the great writers of all time were rejected multiple times ... it still stinks and makes me grumpy.
When I wasn't pouting about the road trip or the queries, I was busy finishing the first season of "Friday Night Lights." I know I've said it a gazillion times, but seriously, I LOVE this show. It's definitely my new favorite, and I'm so thankful to author Sarah Dessen for talking about it on her blog. It's a show I hadn't really considered in the past, and I'm so glad I found it. There is something admirable about each character, and I love each member of the ensemble cast, particularly Coach Taylor and his wife, Tami. And I have to say, that Kyle Chandler is something else. How have I not noticed how adorable he is before? I am definitely trading in McDreamy as my boyfriend for the coach. Now you know I love this show!
Other reflections as of late:
1) Little boys talk about poop. A lot. The Little Man is always claiming he smells poop. Or he sees poop everywhere. Of course it's not poop at all. It's a piece of dirt, a leaf, or even a small toy. He knows it's not poop, and I know it's not poop. Still, that doesn't matter much when he yells, "Look at that POOP over there by that milk" in the dairy aisle at the grocery store. Any time he announces the presence of random poop out in public, innocent bystanders either A) stare at him like he's a freak or B) stare at me like I'm a horrible mother or C) look at the floor for the mysterious poop or D) do what all adults know they shouldn't do when a small child says something inappropriate ... they laugh. This, of course, is the goal for the Little Man. He loves when people laugh at his poop remarks. I, of course, do not.
2) Kids don't understand the concept of phlegm. My Big Girl has her first cold of the season and when she wakes up, coughs and snorts around for the entire 45 minutes we have together before she gets on the bus. I've explained before what the stuff is that she coughs up, but still, seeing as it's been many months since she dealt with the "nasty stuff gagging" her, it's a mystery again. My solution to this problem was vitamins, cough syrup, and hot chocolate. She went along with this plan, but she still asked, "Mom, can I just get my lungs taken out?" I laughed, which offended her for a second as she said, "Mom, I'm serious. This is getting annoring." (And no, annoring is not a typo. That's actually how she says the word.) She was frustrated (and I was grossed out) by her phlegm, but hey, it was a teachable moment. We then had a discussion about human anatomy and the value of a healthy set of lungs.
3) I read three wonderful books. I love them all so much I wish I could rush right out and buy them for everyone I know. The first was Looking for Alaska by John Green. The second was I Am the Messenger by Marcus Zusak. And finally, today I finished Special Topics in Calamity Physics by Marisha Pessl. I absolutely loved all of them and am certain the narrators of these stories (Pudge, Ed Kennedy, and Blue) will stay with me a long time. If you want more specific information about each book, post a comment and I'll answer them. I would recommend any of them and would happily discuss them.
Thinking about these three novels made me think about my reading this year, and I have to say, it's been great. I always love to read, but this year I've been lucky to find many favorites, stories I know I'll want to read again and pass on to my children someday. Have you read anything similar? Any favorites you've read lately that you would like to share about?
Must go for now, but check later this week for an exciting post about the Bluffton "Free" Street Fair (we spent $60 in less than three hours) and an educational parenting piece on mashed potatoes.
Yep. That's where I've been lately. Lost in the Land of Bitter, sitting by myself at the table. And I have to say, it was quite lonely there. Everyone else around me has been happy and peppy and full of warm, fuzzy thoughts. I'm glad and thankful that I've been tolerated by everyone, even though I'm sure my grumpiness was quite annoying. But, you can all relax. The Bookworm has returned, happy and optimistic once again.
It all started with the Edward Cullen book signing party ending before it even began. Cousin broke her foot, so we couldn't go to the signing. Obviously, her foot was and still is the main priority, but we were both quite pouty and bummed about the cancellation of our road trip to Cinncinati. And we even got our shirts! The "Bite Me" fan club shirts arrived the day before, but alas, it wasn't meant to be. Cousin is still healing and isn't happy about the foot, but she is doing quite well despite her boot and crutches. She's getting out and about, heading to the library and bookstore, and maybe soon ... a mall! We'll see about that one. :)
I started sending out queries again, which is always draining. It's a long process, and I'm definitely happiest when writing, not when I'm sending out letters to total strangers hoping, really, really, really, hoping that they will be interested enough to ask for a partial or full manuscript. Rejections are expected, and believe me, they come. Luckily I've had success in the past and have gotten requests. I try to stay positive and tell myself that persistence will pay off, bringing more requests in the future. Still, even though I expect rejections, even though I know it's part of the process, and yes, even though I'm aware that some of the great writers of all time were rejected multiple times ... it still stinks and makes me grumpy.
When I wasn't pouting about the road trip or the queries, I was busy finishing the first season of "Friday Night Lights." I know I've said it a gazillion times, but seriously, I LOVE this show. It's definitely my new favorite, and I'm so thankful to author Sarah Dessen for talking about it on her blog. It's a show I hadn't really considered in the past, and I'm so glad I found it. There is something admirable about each character, and I love each member of the ensemble cast, particularly Coach Taylor and his wife, Tami. And I have to say, that Kyle Chandler is something else. How have I not noticed how adorable he is before? I am definitely trading in McDreamy as my boyfriend for the coach. Now you know I love this show!
Other reflections as of late:
1) Little boys talk about poop. A lot. The Little Man is always claiming he smells poop. Or he sees poop everywhere. Of course it's not poop at all. It's a piece of dirt, a leaf, or even a small toy. He knows it's not poop, and I know it's not poop. Still, that doesn't matter much when he yells, "Look at that POOP over there by that milk" in the dairy aisle at the grocery store. Any time he announces the presence of random poop out in public, innocent bystanders either A) stare at him like he's a freak or B) stare at me like I'm a horrible mother or C) look at the floor for the mysterious poop or D) do what all adults know they shouldn't do when a small child says something inappropriate ... they laugh. This, of course, is the goal for the Little Man. He loves when people laugh at his poop remarks. I, of course, do not.
2) Kids don't understand the concept of phlegm. My Big Girl has her first cold of the season and when she wakes up, coughs and snorts around for the entire 45 minutes we have together before she gets on the bus. I've explained before what the stuff is that she coughs up, but still, seeing as it's been many months since she dealt with the "nasty stuff gagging" her, it's a mystery again. My solution to this problem was vitamins, cough syrup, and hot chocolate. She went along with this plan, but she still asked, "Mom, can I just get my lungs taken out?" I laughed, which offended her for a second as she said, "Mom, I'm serious. This is getting annoring." (And no, annoring is not a typo. That's actually how she says the word.) She was frustrated (and I was grossed out) by her phlegm, but hey, it was a teachable moment. We then had a discussion about human anatomy and the value of a healthy set of lungs.
3) I read three wonderful books. I love them all so much I wish I could rush right out and buy them for everyone I know. The first was Looking for Alaska by John Green. The second was I Am the Messenger by Marcus Zusak. And finally, today I finished Special Topics in Calamity Physics by Marisha Pessl. I absolutely loved all of them and am certain the narrators of these stories (Pudge, Ed Kennedy, and Blue) will stay with me a long time. If you want more specific information about each book, post a comment and I'll answer them. I would recommend any of them and would happily discuss them.
Thinking about these three novels made me think about my reading this year, and I have to say, it's been great. I always love to read, but this year I've been lucky to find many favorites, stories I know I'll want to read again and pass on to my children someday. Have you read anything similar? Any favorites you've read lately that you would like to share about?
Must go for now, but check later this week for an exciting post about the Bluffton "Free" Street Fair (we spent $60 in less than three hours) and an educational parenting piece on mashed potatoes.
Friday, September 7, 2007
Call the Press!
I worked out! My padonk-a-donk was actually moving just moments ago!
It's strange that I've been struggling so much to exercise. Those of you who know me well understand that I have a long obsession with working out. I've done my aerobics tapes so many times that I say, "Eight more! Come on, Girls!" before Denise Austin even opens her mouth. I know every step, lunge, and eight count on those tapes, and as stated above, know every word Denise or Kathy Smith politely and happily shout from my television. And I've ran my padonker all over the streets of Gwood preparing for those half-marathons. So many blisters, miles, aches, and shoes I've gone through, yet for some reason, I can't seem to make myself do it lately. Why is this?
The only thing I can come up with is the writing. I'm not going to give it up because I love it, and it's my dream. I'm going to keep at it as long as it takes (I think),but it takes time, sometimes several hours, and when I'm done, there's just no time left for my booty.
Today though, something wonderful happened that inspired me. It rained. Hard. This is good for two reasons: Number one: it made it cool off outside. Number two: it made the mosquitos vanish. This is short-lived I'm sure, but for thirty five glorious minutes today, Little Man and I went on a power walk without almost passing out and being eaten alive by pesky bloodsuckers!
We go on small walks every day, but the humidity and mosquitos have made it impossible for us to go past our cul de sac. But today, we went forever, and we went FAST. Seriously, if you haven't seen the Little Man on his Big Wheel, you probably don't understand just how fast the man can move, but trust me, it's like Nascar. He's already a legend on our street for his speed and amazing control, and if you think you can keep up with that little short stack, think again. I was in flip flops, speed-walking and sometimes running to catch up with him, and I was sweating and my hair was blowing and I swear, I could feel my butt shrinking with every step!
Not really, but still, I was moving, and the best part of it was, we were having fun together. I've decided that this is our new plan. We're going to go every day, and since I found the one bottle of mosquito spray left in the entire city at Target this morning, we may even be able to survive the bugs.
Last night I watched three more episodes of Friday Night Lights. Still loving it. I'm also still reading Looking for Alaska by John Green. It reminds me a bit of Catcher in the Rye except it's more modern and makes me laugh even more than Holden Caufield did. Some people were afraid of him, but I enjoyed him immensely. Not sure what that says about me.
Little Man was excited about school today and told me all about the new TV they got in his classroom. I was a bit concerned. I am, after all, the self-proclaimed TV nazi when it comes to my kids and what they watch. And I certainly don't want them watching TV at school, unless it is for educational purposes of course. According to my man, all TV viewing was purely educational as they watched and learned about Yoga! Now this makes me happy. I, of course, have several yoga tapes, so we can exercise again! I'm going to be the skinniest person alive! Move over Nicole Richie! Kate Bosworth step aside! Wahoo!
Oh, and I love my hair. I no longer look like a skunk. Still have many colors, but they are blended nicely. And he did something I swore I would never do: I have a few LAYERS. This was something I thought to be impossible when it comes to my hair, but it is actually working. As King Hair Stud said, "it's just going to give it movement, sweetie." Yes. This is precisely what I was thinking to myself as I was racing through my neighborhood with my hair whipping around much like Pamela Anderson's does while she struts on the beach. Yes, I have movement. In many places on my body unfortunately, but the hair is movin too!
Oh, and my "Bite Me" t-shirt still has not come in. Super Nice Cousin/Driver/Counselor Friend of Mine is certain they will arrive today. If not, we'll be getting out the puffy paint. Yikes!
Have a good weekend!
It's strange that I've been struggling so much to exercise. Those of you who know me well understand that I have a long obsession with working out. I've done my aerobics tapes so many times that I say, "Eight more! Come on, Girls!" before Denise Austin even opens her mouth. I know every step, lunge, and eight count on those tapes, and as stated above, know every word Denise or Kathy Smith politely and happily shout from my television. And I've ran my padonker all over the streets of Gwood preparing for those half-marathons. So many blisters, miles, aches, and shoes I've gone through, yet for some reason, I can't seem to make myself do it lately. Why is this?
The only thing I can come up with is the writing. I'm not going to give it up because I love it, and it's my dream. I'm going to keep at it as long as it takes (I think),but it takes time, sometimes several hours, and when I'm done, there's just no time left for my booty.
Today though, something wonderful happened that inspired me. It rained. Hard. This is good for two reasons: Number one: it made it cool off outside. Number two: it made the mosquitos vanish. This is short-lived I'm sure, but for thirty five glorious minutes today, Little Man and I went on a power walk without almost passing out and being eaten alive by pesky bloodsuckers!
We go on small walks every day, but the humidity and mosquitos have made it impossible for us to go past our cul de sac. But today, we went forever, and we went FAST. Seriously, if you haven't seen the Little Man on his Big Wheel, you probably don't understand just how fast the man can move, but trust me, it's like Nascar. He's already a legend on our street for his speed and amazing control, and if you think you can keep up with that little short stack, think again. I was in flip flops, speed-walking and sometimes running to catch up with him, and I was sweating and my hair was blowing and I swear, I could feel my butt shrinking with every step!
Not really, but still, I was moving, and the best part of it was, we were having fun together. I've decided that this is our new plan. We're going to go every day, and since I found the one bottle of mosquito spray left in the entire city at Target this morning, we may even be able to survive the bugs.
Last night I watched three more episodes of Friday Night Lights. Still loving it. I'm also still reading Looking for Alaska by John Green. It reminds me a bit of Catcher in the Rye except it's more modern and makes me laugh even more than Holden Caufield did. Some people were afraid of him, but I enjoyed him immensely. Not sure what that says about me.
Little Man was excited about school today and told me all about the new TV they got in his classroom. I was a bit concerned. I am, after all, the self-proclaimed TV nazi when it comes to my kids and what they watch. And I certainly don't want them watching TV at school, unless it is for educational purposes of course. According to my man, all TV viewing was purely educational as they watched and learned about Yoga! Now this makes me happy. I, of course, have several yoga tapes, so we can exercise again! I'm going to be the skinniest person alive! Move over Nicole Richie! Kate Bosworth step aside! Wahoo!
Oh, and I love my hair. I no longer look like a skunk. Still have many colors, but they are blended nicely. And he did something I swore I would never do: I have a few LAYERS. This was something I thought to be impossible when it comes to my hair, but it is actually working. As King Hair Stud said, "it's just going to give it movement, sweetie." Yes. This is precisely what I was thinking to myself as I was racing through my neighborhood with my hair whipping around much like Pamela Anderson's does while she struts on the beach. Yes, I have movement. In many places on my body unfortunately, but the hair is movin too!
Oh, and my "Bite Me" t-shirt still has not come in. Super Nice Cousin/Driver/Counselor Friend of Mine is certain they will arrive today. If not, we'll be getting out the puffy paint. Yikes!
Have a good weekend!
Thursday, September 6, 2007
New Obsession
Yesterday, I was having a small pity party for myself because my Big Girl, the one that I thought was now doing okay with her transition to a new school, drew me a picture of a sad little girl standing under a tree with a tear sliding down her cheek. She was the girl, and her name was Lonely. The title of the picture? Sadness Is in the Air.
You can imagine how this bothered me tremendously. Add the fact that our neighbor girl wasn't on the bus yesterday morning (which always bums her out), and I was feeling pretty emotional. Yes, I kept saying to myself what Big Girl's teacher told me ...you give her the wings, but she has to fly. This may be true, but it still breaks my heart. I know that when she is at school she has fun and is doing well. Mostly, I suspect she misses me during the day. She mentioned this when I asked her why she was lonely in the picture, and some of the dramatics exist to get attention from Mom. And of course I know that we all need to be patient. We may be enjoying ourselves tremendously up here in the fort, but still, there are times when my heart strings are tugged at a bit. I miss seeing people from "home" regularly, but I also miss random things, and I suspect she does as well. I would say that at this point, it appears as if she is happy and worry-free about the move 90% of the time. The other 10% breaks my heart.
All day yesterday, until I saw her again, I felt the way a mom feels when you drop your toddler off at preschool or take them to the church nursery and they scream as you leave. Deep down inside, you know this is good for them and that they have to be independent, even if it's only just a bit because they are small. You know they will be okay, but it still hurts. And yesterday, I was melancholy, worrying about her because you know, well, that's my job. So, of course, I headed straight to the one place on this planet that can soothe me in a way no other place can ...
Target.
And I bought myself a treat because I deserved it. Right? I was emotional and needed help, so I purchased a bag of Sun Chips and the first season of Friday Night Lights on DVD, all for myself! Big Girl ended up just fine when she came home, so after I got her and the Little Man into bed, I watched four episodes, and now I'm obsessed! It is so, so, soooooo good. Seriously, I'm more excited about this show than I am Grey's Anatomy, and that's definitely saying something. I want to loan out my DVDs to all my friends so they can catch up and watch it with me. Even if they are a season behind, I'm going to recommend it to everyone. It's a great, great show.
My Little Man continues to do very well at preschool. He loves his teacher and the hermit crabs in his classroom. His teachers tell me every day how well he is doing, how nice he is to the other kids, how he makes up and sings songs for everyone, and how he loves to do the "waterfalls" project. The best part for me is that I work there, and I get to watch him out the window every day when he is at recess. It's so fun to watch him play in the little house as he marches in and out the door. He loves to open the shutters and stick his head in and out, but mostly, he walks around at recess picking flowers. For me. :) Every day I get a new bundle of beautiful weeds and the biggest hug when we reunite. I can't believe how much he has grown up. It's fun, but if I had my way, he would stay just the same as he is right now.
The Stephenie Meyer book signing is just four days away! WAHOO! The only problem is that our "Bite Me" t-shirts have not arrived. This means that we're going to have to be creative and make some which is quite stressful. I've seen the pictures of other fans at her signings, and they all have very cool shirts with original designs. This is something I do not specialize in. Evidence of this exists in our hall closet, where my 7th grade cheerleading sweatshirt is hanging. We found it when we moved, and I couldn't get rid of it. It smells like dust and mildew, but that can't disguise the fact that it is plain and boring. Granted, there were five of us who designed the sweatshirt, but still, I was in on the plan. And it is white, saying our names, our school, and our grade in block letters. Very boring, I assure you. Of course this was a long time ago, but my clothing design skills have not improved in the long time span between 7th grade and now. What can I create to show my undying love and devotion for my favorite little vampire? I'm stressed! Not really, but I do want to have something fun. Perhaps I'll think of that today when I get my hair done!
Yes, it's true! I haven't visited a salon since April, and now I'm going to see Dean who is going to make me look like a supermodel. Okay, maybe not a supermodel, but at least I will hopefully come out looking better with my hair one color instead of like a skunk with bad roots.
What I'm reading: Looking for Alaska by John Green
Miles to run: Still haven't managed that. Hey, I wrote 8,230 words on Tuesday! Give me a break!
You can imagine how this bothered me tremendously. Add the fact that our neighbor girl wasn't on the bus yesterday morning (which always bums her out), and I was feeling pretty emotional. Yes, I kept saying to myself what Big Girl's teacher told me ...you give her the wings, but she has to fly. This may be true, but it still breaks my heart. I know that when she is at school she has fun and is doing well. Mostly, I suspect she misses me during the day. She mentioned this when I asked her why she was lonely in the picture, and some of the dramatics exist to get attention from Mom. And of course I know that we all need to be patient. We may be enjoying ourselves tremendously up here in the fort, but still, there are times when my heart strings are tugged at a bit. I miss seeing people from "home" regularly, but I also miss random things, and I suspect she does as well. I would say that at this point, it appears as if she is happy and worry-free about the move 90% of the time. The other 10% breaks my heart.
All day yesterday, until I saw her again, I felt the way a mom feels when you drop your toddler off at preschool or take them to the church nursery and they scream as you leave. Deep down inside, you know this is good for them and that they have to be independent, even if it's only just a bit because they are small. You know they will be okay, but it still hurts. And yesterday, I was melancholy, worrying about her because you know, well, that's my job. So, of course, I headed straight to the one place on this planet that can soothe me in a way no other place can ...
Target.
And I bought myself a treat because I deserved it. Right? I was emotional and needed help, so I purchased a bag of Sun Chips and the first season of Friday Night Lights on DVD, all for myself! Big Girl ended up just fine when she came home, so after I got her and the Little Man into bed, I watched four episodes, and now I'm obsessed! It is so, so, soooooo good. Seriously, I'm more excited about this show than I am Grey's Anatomy, and that's definitely saying something. I want to loan out my DVDs to all my friends so they can catch up and watch it with me. Even if they are a season behind, I'm going to recommend it to everyone. It's a great, great show.
My Little Man continues to do very well at preschool. He loves his teacher and the hermit crabs in his classroom. His teachers tell me every day how well he is doing, how nice he is to the other kids, how he makes up and sings songs for everyone, and how he loves to do the "waterfalls" project. The best part for me is that I work there, and I get to watch him out the window every day when he is at recess. It's so fun to watch him play in the little house as he marches in and out the door. He loves to open the shutters and stick his head in and out, but mostly, he walks around at recess picking flowers. For me. :) Every day I get a new bundle of beautiful weeds and the biggest hug when we reunite. I can't believe how much he has grown up. It's fun, but if I had my way, he would stay just the same as he is right now.
The Stephenie Meyer book signing is just four days away! WAHOO! The only problem is that our "Bite Me" t-shirts have not arrived. This means that we're going to have to be creative and make some which is quite stressful. I've seen the pictures of other fans at her signings, and they all have very cool shirts with original designs. This is something I do not specialize in. Evidence of this exists in our hall closet, where my 7th grade cheerleading sweatshirt is hanging. We found it when we moved, and I couldn't get rid of it. It smells like dust and mildew, but that can't disguise the fact that it is plain and boring. Granted, there were five of us who designed the sweatshirt, but still, I was in on the plan. And it is white, saying our names, our school, and our grade in block letters. Very boring, I assure you. Of course this was a long time ago, but my clothing design skills have not improved in the long time span between 7th grade and now. What can I create to show my undying love and devotion for my favorite little vampire? I'm stressed! Not really, but I do want to have something fun. Perhaps I'll think of that today when I get my hair done!
Yes, it's true! I haven't visited a salon since April, and now I'm going to see Dean who is going to make me look like a supermodel. Okay, maybe not a supermodel, but at least I will hopefully come out looking better with my hair one color instead of like a skunk with bad roots.
What I'm reading: Looking for Alaska by John Green
Miles to run: Still haven't managed that. Hey, I wrote 8,230 words on Tuesday! Give me a break!
Friday, August 31, 2007
Silly Friends
I received two email messages this morning that really ruffled my feathers.
One was from my cousin/friend, who told me how gross her skin was, how fat her butt was, how ugly her clothes were, and something else that I can't remember about how gross she was. Basically, she has described herself as ugly, fat, and poorly dressed.
The other message was from another BFF, who told me how HORRIBLE a person she is because she forgot about a meeting for work and the dinner she was supposed to make for a family from church. She went on for several lines telling me how horrible and unthoughtful she is.
Hmm. One claims to just be having a bad day, and the other is just stressed out with a workload too big for her shoulders to carry. It's okay to have a bad day, and I'm glad they don't keep it all bottled up inside. I certainly have those days where I hate everything about myself and can't seem to find any redeeming qualities about Miss Viola. On these sort of days, there is nothing worse than feeling alone. There is nothing better than having a friend pick you back up. I'm glad they came to me, so I can try to make them see just how utterly fabulous they both are.
You don't know who I'm talking about, but let me tell you, my "ugly and fat" cousin/friend is anything but ugly and fat. In fact, my husband always says about her, "she is so pretty. She gets prettier all the time." It's true. She has curly hair that I would die for. She looks pretty naturally, without tons of makeup. Some of us have to cover up our flaws, and despite what she thinks, to the rest of us, it doesn't look like she has anything to cover up. As for being fat, well, I remember at church one time, I saw her walk in with her husband. I was sitting with my grandma who leaned over and said, "Look at her. She's so little and petite. She's so cute." It's true, and it makes me sad that she doesn't see it.
As for my "horrible" friend, well, that's almost funny. Of all the people I have ever met in my life, she is the most thoughtful, selfless, kindest person I've ever known. She always does more things for other people than she does for herself. She's often tired because she gives so much of herself, whether it be cooking meals, sending surprise gifts in the mail, adding people to her mile long prayer list, never forgetting birthday gifts or special times in the lives of her friends and family, or planning surprise bday parties for her husband. Trust me, she makes the rest of us look bad, and she thinks she is horrible! So, so untrue. She's kind and genuine and sweet all the time, and she makes me a better person just because she's my friend.
I once had a boss who wasn't complimentary often, but when she did, she was honest and did it with style. I'm not sure if my post today has any style or special flair, but I wanted to take the opportunity to praise my two friends who are just having a bad day, moment, whatever you want to call it. As my former boss said, "we don't often take time out to praise someone. This is it."
As an adult, I feel so lucky to have the friends I have, and not just these two. Like Jennifer Aniston said in an interview shortly after her divorce went through, "I couldn't have done it without my girls. They're everything to me." I feel blessed to have all my peeps, and I'm so lucky to have so many. I remember once, my sister told me when I was in my early twenties that it wasn't high school anymore, that I could choose the people I wanted in my life. My friends didn't have to be my friends simply because we went to school together or because there was a lack of options. As I get older, I've found that this is true, and I'm so proud of the friends I have. They (you, if you're reading) are all super. Each adds something special to my life in a different way, and I'm so thankful for them all. Something of them are family. Some are old friends dating back to my childhood. Some are new friends I met as an adult. Either way, I feel lucky they all walked into my life, and I'm happy that we chose each other.
Like I said, we all have bad days where we can't stand ourselves or beat ourselves up for something we've done. I just wanted to boost up my two peeps, as they've done for me countless times. We should all do that more often. Right?
And now, I'm proud to say (yes, we're on a different subject now) that Miss Viola has written 40,000 words of her new project! Yeehaw! And my "horrible" friend has seen a small piece and sent me the most complimentary email today where she praised me and compared me to the likes of Shakespeare. Not really, but she did send some super thoughts about the piece my way, and I'm so thankful. It inspired me to keep going. I just wish I could write all day!
Something else ...I squeezed my butt into an old pair of capris today, and I'm happy to report that if you do lunges down your hallway, sit "criss cross applesauce" while working on the computer, and tuck your left leg under your butt while driving, you can actually make a pair of pants that are much too small for your butt fit over your body! Does it look attractive? Hell, no! But they're on! That has to count for something.
Oh, and another super friend of mine had a baby yesterday. Miss Avery Kate joined the world at 6 pounds 13 ounces and 20 inches. I can't wait to see her. I'm sure she is beautiful like her mother.
Next week, I'll be back to talking about my precious Edward. Yes, only 10 days until I join the other freaks in my "Bite Me" t-shirt! I'm an official Edward Cullen Fan Club Member! It's going to be super fun, and I can't wait to go with my awesome (not ugly and fat) cousin. We're going to have a blast. Also, next week, I'll probably continue praising my friends. It feels nice spreading the love around. Keep reading to see if you're mentioned. You're all too wonderful for me to keep quiet.
Book I just finished: Crank by Ellen Hopkins
Book I'm still reading: The Book Thief
Number of episodes of "Lost" I will watch with my niece tonight: SEVEN!
Miles to Run: um ... next week, maybe?
One was from my cousin/friend, who told me how gross her skin was, how fat her butt was, how ugly her clothes were, and something else that I can't remember about how gross she was. Basically, she has described herself as ugly, fat, and poorly dressed.
The other message was from another BFF, who told me how HORRIBLE a person she is because she forgot about a meeting for work and the dinner she was supposed to make for a family from church. She went on for several lines telling me how horrible and unthoughtful she is.
Hmm. One claims to just be having a bad day, and the other is just stressed out with a workload too big for her shoulders to carry. It's okay to have a bad day, and I'm glad they don't keep it all bottled up inside. I certainly have those days where I hate everything about myself and can't seem to find any redeeming qualities about Miss Viola. On these sort of days, there is nothing worse than feeling alone. There is nothing better than having a friend pick you back up. I'm glad they came to me, so I can try to make them see just how utterly fabulous they both are.
You don't know who I'm talking about, but let me tell you, my "ugly and fat" cousin/friend is anything but ugly and fat. In fact, my husband always says about her, "she is so pretty. She gets prettier all the time." It's true. She has curly hair that I would die for. She looks pretty naturally, without tons of makeup. Some of us have to cover up our flaws, and despite what she thinks, to the rest of us, it doesn't look like she has anything to cover up. As for being fat, well, I remember at church one time, I saw her walk in with her husband. I was sitting with my grandma who leaned over and said, "Look at her. She's so little and petite. She's so cute." It's true, and it makes me sad that she doesn't see it.
As for my "horrible" friend, well, that's almost funny. Of all the people I have ever met in my life, she is the most thoughtful, selfless, kindest person I've ever known. She always does more things for other people than she does for herself. She's often tired because she gives so much of herself, whether it be cooking meals, sending surprise gifts in the mail, adding people to her mile long prayer list, never forgetting birthday gifts or special times in the lives of her friends and family, or planning surprise bday parties for her husband. Trust me, she makes the rest of us look bad, and she thinks she is horrible! So, so untrue. She's kind and genuine and sweet all the time, and she makes me a better person just because she's my friend.
I once had a boss who wasn't complimentary often, but when she did, she was honest and did it with style. I'm not sure if my post today has any style or special flair, but I wanted to take the opportunity to praise my two friends who are just having a bad day, moment, whatever you want to call it. As my former boss said, "we don't often take time out to praise someone. This is it."
As an adult, I feel so lucky to have the friends I have, and not just these two. Like Jennifer Aniston said in an interview shortly after her divorce went through, "I couldn't have done it without my girls. They're everything to me." I feel blessed to have all my peeps, and I'm so lucky to have so many. I remember once, my sister told me when I was in my early twenties that it wasn't high school anymore, that I could choose the people I wanted in my life. My friends didn't have to be my friends simply because we went to school together or because there was a lack of options. As I get older, I've found that this is true, and I'm so proud of the friends I have. They (you, if you're reading) are all super. Each adds something special to my life in a different way, and I'm so thankful for them all. Something of them are family. Some are old friends dating back to my childhood. Some are new friends I met as an adult. Either way, I feel lucky they all walked into my life, and I'm happy that we chose each other.
Like I said, we all have bad days where we can't stand ourselves or beat ourselves up for something we've done. I just wanted to boost up my two peeps, as they've done for me countless times. We should all do that more often. Right?
And now, I'm proud to say (yes, we're on a different subject now) that Miss Viola has written 40,000 words of her new project! Yeehaw! And my "horrible" friend has seen a small piece and sent me the most complimentary email today where she praised me and compared me to the likes of Shakespeare. Not really, but she did send some super thoughts about the piece my way, and I'm so thankful. It inspired me to keep going. I just wish I could write all day!
Something else ...I squeezed my butt into an old pair of capris today, and I'm happy to report that if you do lunges down your hallway, sit "criss cross applesauce" while working on the computer, and tuck your left leg under your butt while driving, you can actually make a pair of pants that are much too small for your butt fit over your body! Does it look attractive? Hell, no! But they're on! That has to count for something.
Oh, and another super friend of mine had a baby yesterday. Miss Avery Kate joined the world at 6 pounds 13 ounces and 20 inches. I can't wait to see her. I'm sure she is beautiful like her mother.
Next week, I'll be back to talking about my precious Edward. Yes, only 10 days until I join the other freaks in my "Bite Me" t-shirt! I'm an official Edward Cullen Fan Club Member! It's going to be super fun, and I can't wait to go with my awesome (not ugly and fat) cousin. We're going to have a blast. Also, next week, I'll probably continue praising my friends. It feels nice spreading the love around. Keep reading to see if you're mentioned. You're all too wonderful for me to keep quiet.
Book I just finished: Crank by Ellen Hopkins
Book I'm still reading: The Book Thief
Number of episodes of "Lost" I will watch with my niece tonight: SEVEN!
Miles to Run: um ... next week, maybe?
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Cougars Unite!
It was my friend's birthday last week. I'm happy that it's her birthday so she can celebrate and get presents, funny cards, singing messages on her voicemail, etc. Anyone who knows me is definitely aware that I love celebrating my birthday, so I'm excited when it's somebody else's big day, even though nobody seems to be as excited about theirs as I am mine. I have to admit though, as the numbers go up, the less excited I get.
Time seems to go by so fast that I don't think we realize how we age physically. I still feel and act, unfortunately, like I'm a twenty year-old sometimes, so I just walk around thinking I look like I did ten years ago instead of the way I look now as a thirty-something. Now don't get me wrong: I'm not upset with the way I look for my age. I'm just noticing that I don't get carded anymore, and I swear that sometimes when I'm out and about, I've seen giggly teenage girls look at me like I'm the "old" lady.
My friend, who is the same age as I am, was out recently at a bar with another friend, and apparently some younger guys were checking her out and referred to her as a cougar. My research revealed that a cougar in slang terms means "an attractive older lady." WTF?!!? She's in her early thirties! They were right when they said she was attractive because she's as adorable and tiny as ever, but still! An older lady! Whatever.
It's true. Age is only a number. I can be thankful for my age and be happy for all the days I have. I also realize that you're only as old as you think you are, that you can do anything and be anything you want, despite your age. Still, as offended as I may be by the fact that my friend was referred to as an attractive "older" lady, well, I admit to still wanting to be one.
That said, I admit to being shallow and wanting a bit of Botox. Not much, just a little shot right between my eyebrows. The battle against that huge wrinkle is not going in my favor. And after that, perhaps a little teeth whitening? Oh, and that one dimple I had on the backs of my thighs when I was twenty five, well, it found some friends. Must get rid of those. Yes, it's true! I want to be a Cougar. How pathetic is that? Oh well. I know I'm not alone. I'm sure that my friends have their aging wishlists as well, so I say, Cougars Unite! Wahoo!
Other news: I'm happy to report that the big girl is still doing well at school. The Hound Dogs are still in effect, and she and the gang are having fun, adding new members, playing soccer, and are even branching out at recess to meet other friends. It seems as if they bonded together in their new student status, and after only three days, have the strength to face the first grade playground alone. I guess it's true what the teacher told me about first graders being resilient. Let's hope that my girl stays that way.
The little man is still enjoying school every day. He still loves his pretty teacher and enjoys telling us about the hermit crabs in his classroom. "Mommy," he says after class each day, "did you know that we have a pet called a hermit crabs? And guess what? He has a shell and legs that stick out." He is so intrigued. It's so fun to watch him become more independent while discovering the world.
Some exciting news: I'm going to the Stephenie Meyer book signing in Cincinnati! My cousin and I went last time and had a blast. I've been mentioning it casually, hoping she would want to go again, and finally, she called and said we should do it. I happened to have a couple parenting meltdowns just days before she called, so I'm not sure if she's going because she wants to or because she desperately thinks I need a night out! Either way, we're going with our stack of books, "I Love Edward Cullen" t-shirts, and a nice quiet car to chat in for three hours! I can't wait!
What I'm reading: Still on The Book Thief
Miles to run: Run? Who runs?
What's playing on my IPOD: my new favorite youthful song: "Here in Your Arms" by Hello Goodbye
Time seems to go by so fast that I don't think we realize how we age physically. I still feel and act, unfortunately, like I'm a twenty year-old sometimes, so I just walk around thinking I look like I did ten years ago instead of the way I look now as a thirty-something. Now don't get me wrong: I'm not upset with the way I look for my age. I'm just noticing that I don't get carded anymore, and I swear that sometimes when I'm out and about, I've seen giggly teenage girls look at me like I'm the "old" lady.
My friend, who is the same age as I am, was out recently at a bar with another friend, and apparently some younger guys were checking her out and referred to her as a cougar. My research revealed that a cougar in slang terms means "an attractive older lady." WTF?!!? She's in her early thirties! They were right when they said she was attractive because she's as adorable and tiny as ever, but still! An older lady! Whatever.
It's true. Age is only a number. I can be thankful for my age and be happy for all the days I have. I also realize that you're only as old as you think you are, that you can do anything and be anything you want, despite your age. Still, as offended as I may be by the fact that my friend was referred to as an attractive "older" lady, well, I admit to still wanting to be one.
That said, I admit to being shallow and wanting a bit of Botox. Not much, just a little shot right between my eyebrows. The battle against that huge wrinkle is not going in my favor. And after that, perhaps a little teeth whitening? Oh, and that one dimple I had on the backs of my thighs when I was twenty five, well, it found some friends. Must get rid of those. Yes, it's true! I want to be a Cougar. How pathetic is that? Oh well. I know I'm not alone. I'm sure that my friends have their aging wishlists as well, so I say, Cougars Unite! Wahoo!
Other news: I'm happy to report that the big girl is still doing well at school. The Hound Dogs are still in effect, and she and the gang are having fun, adding new members, playing soccer, and are even branching out at recess to meet other friends. It seems as if they bonded together in their new student status, and after only three days, have the strength to face the first grade playground alone. I guess it's true what the teacher told me about first graders being resilient. Let's hope that my girl stays that way.
The little man is still enjoying school every day. He still loves his pretty teacher and enjoys telling us about the hermit crabs in his classroom. "Mommy," he says after class each day, "did you know that we have a pet called a hermit crabs? And guess what? He has a shell and legs that stick out." He is so intrigued. It's so fun to watch him become more independent while discovering the world.
Some exciting news: I'm going to the Stephenie Meyer book signing in Cincinnati! My cousin and I went last time and had a blast. I've been mentioning it casually, hoping she would want to go again, and finally, she called and said we should do it. I happened to have a couple parenting meltdowns just days before she called, so I'm not sure if she's going because she wants to or because she desperately thinks I need a night out! Either way, we're going with our stack of books, "I Love Edward Cullen" t-shirts, and a nice quiet car to chat in for three hours! I can't wait!
What I'm reading: Still on The Book Thief
Miles to run: Run? Who runs?
What's playing on my IPOD: my new favorite youthful song: "Here in Your Arms" by Hello Goodbye
Thursday, August 23, 2007
The Hound Dogs
So I've been worrying a bit about my "big" girl.
Her teacher thinks I'm nuts. She also thinks I'm sweet and nice. She even hugged me. Still, she thinks I'm nuts.
Yes, I've been told by EVERYONE that first grade is a HUGE transition for kids. With the longer hours, three recesses, and more intense work (yes, it can be intense in first grade!), they become tired, weepy, and moody. It's normal to be exhausted when beginning first grade, and my daughter shouldn't be the exception. I don't expect that at all. Believe me, Tired, Weepy, and Moody have all paid a visit to our house this week, and honestly, I wouldn't worry about it that much had we not moved. If she were still going to the old school, any crying, anxiety, nerves, or worries she experienced would be just blown off as part of the normal transition that becoming a big kid requires. I get it. Really, I do, but ...
I just can't get over the move, and I worry that it could be worse for her than I thought. My girl has cried. I've cried. We've both had serious meltdowns, all because she almost missed a bus, thought she did miss a bus, went to school at the wrong time, took longer than anyone else to complete the homework, and wasn't able to sit with the neighbor girl because she did miss the bus! It's been a crazy week. Obviously, since I asked my 18-year-old nephew if he would mind contacting the local crack dealer at his high school to see if he could hook me up with some recreational drugs. I tried to convince my nephew that getting high might make me a better parent, but he wasn't convinced. He also didn't think I was very funny.
In the end, Big Girl's teacher has assured me that she is fine at school. She laughs, talks, does her work well, and even smiles and bats her eyes at a certain boy. The teacher has also told me repeatedly that kids are resilient and have to learn to be tough. She's also reminded me that I can "give her wings, but she has to learn to fly." True. Still, I was worried. Until today.
Apparently, a girl from her class who "acts nice when the teacher is around but is SUPER sassy when the adults leave" was quite mean on the playground. In fact, she allegedly said to my little lady, "Your shirt is green and brown. It's ugly, and I hate it."
When Big Girl told me this, I said, "What did you say?
BG: Nothing.
Me: Why not?
BG: (shrugs, says nothing)
Me: Well, you should have said something like, "If you don't like my shirt, don't look at it." Or maybe something like, "If you can't say something nice, then don't say anything at all." You know what I mean?
BG: (shrugs, says nothing)
Me: I mean, you can't just do nothing. You have to stick up for yourself. Don't just stand there and let someone tell you that your shirt is ugly.
BG: (hesitates, then sighs) Well, I did do something.
Me: Good! What did you do?
BG: I flicked her.
Me: Flicked her? Like, with your finger?
BG: (blushing and smiling simultaneously) Yeah. I just reached out and flicked her on her shoulder. And she scowled at me and walked off.
Well, obviously I had to control myself from laughing and cheering at the same time. I was so proud of her because she doesn't often defend herself from the "sassy" people, yet this time she flicked someone! I did tell her later that she probably shouldn't flick someone because she could get in trouble for "assaulting" another student, but still, I was thrilled after our week of tears and worries, to hear that she might just be capable of sticking up for herself. And the best part of it was: she had comrades right beside her as she flicked away on Miss Clothing Critic! One of them said, "Well, I like your shirt." And the other one, well, he threatened to punch the Clothing Critic! That's all beside the point. The point is, the Big Girl might have a couple of friends!
One little boy (who is fluent in French and Spanish) teaches her Spanish at recess. Another little girl just moved here from Texas and owns horses. And the other one threatened to dethrone the "Monkey Bars Club."
Since you're wondering, the Monkey Bars Club consists of a group of first grade boys who sit on the bars and refuse to let anyone pass. Unless of course, you decide to "hang on them and do it anyway, which is what you just do." Again, this is all beside the point. The point is ... 1) There is a club. 2) They have rules. And 3) Big Girl and her friends have not only found each other (for today anyway), but they stuck together to defend their clothing preferences and rights to use the monkey bars! Yes, they've formed an alliance! They're buds. Chums. Peeps. Bitches. Call them what you want, what's important, is that for today, she had someone at her new school, and I cannot even begin to tell you how happy that makes me!
How did this all end today? Well, Big Girl and her new possible friends have created their own club. Mind you, it is a club that anyone can belong to, unless you are sassy. If you have a sassing problem, you can still be in the club, but you'll be asked not to sass. The name of this club ...the Hound Dogs. Why? "Because we all have dogs." Oh, and they're all bringing them to school on Thursday! That should be fun!
Anyway, the whole point of this post is that even though I had to drag it out of her, she admitted that school could be okay someday and that maybe, just maybe, she might have made a friend. Nothing is set in stone of course, which means we'll both be sobbing about something else next week, but still, the Hound Dogs were at it today, and that thrills me to no end.
Miles to Run: I give up. Perhaps next week?
What I'm reading: The Book Thief
Current Food Addiction: Pop Tarts
Her teacher thinks I'm nuts. She also thinks I'm sweet and nice. She even hugged me. Still, she thinks I'm nuts.
Yes, I've been told by EVERYONE that first grade is a HUGE transition for kids. With the longer hours, three recesses, and more intense work (yes, it can be intense in first grade!), they become tired, weepy, and moody. It's normal to be exhausted when beginning first grade, and my daughter shouldn't be the exception. I don't expect that at all. Believe me, Tired, Weepy, and Moody have all paid a visit to our house this week, and honestly, I wouldn't worry about it that much had we not moved. If she were still going to the old school, any crying, anxiety, nerves, or worries she experienced would be just blown off as part of the normal transition that becoming a big kid requires. I get it. Really, I do, but ...
I just can't get over the move, and I worry that it could be worse for her than I thought. My girl has cried. I've cried. We've both had serious meltdowns, all because she almost missed a bus, thought she did miss a bus, went to school at the wrong time, took longer than anyone else to complete the homework, and wasn't able to sit with the neighbor girl because she did miss the bus! It's been a crazy week. Obviously, since I asked my 18-year-old nephew if he would mind contacting the local crack dealer at his high school to see if he could hook me up with some recreational drugs. I tried to convince my nephew that getting high might make me a better parent, but he wasn't convinced. He also didn't think I was very funny.
In the end, Big Girl's teacher has assured me that she is fine at school. She laughs, talks, does her work well, and even smiles and bats her eyes at a certain boy. The teacher has also told me repeatedly that kids are resilient and have to learn to be tough. She's also reminded me that I can "give her wings, but she has to learn to fly." True. Still, I was worried. Until today.
Apparently, a girl from her class who "acts nice when the teacher is around but is SUPER sassy when the adults leave" was quite mean on the playground. In fact, she allegedly said to my little lady, "Your shirt is green and brown. It's ugly, and I hate it."
When Big Girl told me this, I said, "What did you say?
BG: Nothing.
Me: Why not?
BG: (shrugs, says nothing)
Me: Well, you should have said something like, "If you don't like my shirt, don't look at it." Or maybe something like, "If you can't say something nice, then don't say anything at all." You know what I mean?
BG: (shrugs, says nothing)
Me: I mean, you can't just do nothing. You have to stick up for yourself. Don't just stand there and let someone tell you that your shirt is ugly.
BG: (hesitates, then sighs) Well, I did do something.
Me: Good! What did you do?
BG: I flicked her.
Me: Flicked her? Like, with your finger?
BG: (blushing and smiling simultaneously) Yeah. I just reached out and flicked her on her shoulder. And she scowled at me and walked off.
Well, obviously I had to control myself from laughing and cheering at the same time. I was so proud of her because she doesn't often defend herself from the "sassy" people, yet this time she flicked someone! I did tell her later that she probably shouldn't flick someone because she could get in trouble for "assaulting" another student, but still, I was thrilled after our week of tears and worries, to hear that she might just be capable of sticking up for herself. And the best part of it was: she had comrades right beside her as she flicked away on Miss Clothing Critic! One of them said, "Well, I like your shirt." And the other one, well, he threatened to punch the Clothing Critic! That's all beside the point. The point is, the Big Girl might have a couple of friends!
One little boy (who is fluent in French and Spanish) teaches her Spanish at recess. Another little girl just moved here from Texas and owns horses. And the other one threatened to dethrone the "Monkey Bars Club."
Since you're wondering, the Monkey Bars Club consists of a group of first grade boys who sit on the bars and refuse to let anyone pass. Unless of course, you decide to "hang on them and do it anyway, which is what you just do." Again, this is all beside the point. The point is ... 1) There is a club. 2) They have rules. And 3) Big Girl and her friends have not only found each other (for today anyway), but they stuck together to defend their clothing preferences and rights to use the monkey bars! Yes, they've formed an alliance! They're buds. Chums. Peeps. Bitches. Call them what you want, what's important, is that for today, she had someone at her new school, and I cannot even begin to tell you how happy that makes me!
How did this all end today? Well, Big Girl and her new possible friends have created their own club. Mind you, it is a club that anyone can belong to, unless you are sassy. If you have a sassing problem, you can still be in the club, but you'll be asked not to sass. The name of this club ...the Hound Dogs. Why? "Because we all have dogs." Oh, and they're all bringing them to school on Thursday! That should be fun!
Anyway, the whole point of this post is that even though I had to drag it out of her, she admitted that school could be okay someday and that maybe, just maybe, she might have made a friend. Nothing is set in stone of course, which means we'll both be sobbing about something else next week, but still, the Hound Dogs were at it today, and that thrills me to no end.
Miles to Run: I give up. Perhaps next week?
What I'm reading: The Book Thief
Current Food Addiction: Pop Tarts
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