Tuesday, February 27, 2007


there is something cooking that smells like, though probably is not, kraft dinner. i suspect it is lasagna. however, there is nothing to stop me from locating a box of kd with my name on it (followed by the command to eat it, for it is my dinner).

Wednesday, February 21, 2007


well, they did it. they failed to find someone to take over in the daycare. as of monday, i have been spending my afternoons with the 3-5 year olds. it's exhausting. the kinderclarences have all been whipped into shape, and also, there are only ten of them. the dayclarences are more than twice that number, and are besides an undisciplined, drooly, ratty bunch, who won't DO AS THEY'RE TOLD! it's exhausting.

adding to the exhaustion, the Clarence has lost his mind. he was sick all of last week, and mercifully kept home (except for that one day they tried to dupe us and drop him off anyway, and all he did was cry and cling to me), so now his routine is thrown off. he's probably still not feeling well, but i think it's more the having been sick and spoiled and at home for a week, and now being at daycare, and having (only the most necessary of) restrictions put on him. he's done nothing but tantrum for the past three days. he's at least 45 pounds, and taller than my waist, something of a two-year-old in a four-year-old's body, so his tantrums are pretty fierce. today, he head-butted me and split my lip. later, he bit me in the shoulder, hard enough to break skin through two layers of shirt. and because when he tantrums, he flings his head backwards towards the ground, all i can do is clutch him to my body to keep him from hurting himself or any of the other kids. this puts my shoulder within easy reach, and ten minutes later, he bit me again.

it's completely unsettling when someone physically harms you, intentionally. even when that someone is a toddler. and autistic. and temporarily batshit insane. so i bought myself a bag of hickory sticks.

Sunday, February 18, 2007

beauty is pain

i read an article on 'asian anti-aging secrets' the other day. now, i'm all for anti-aging, especially since i recently discovered (through my engagement photos) that i have wrinkles. not i've-been-in-the-sun-all-day wrinkles, but permanent ones.
aside: if i could go back in time, i'd go to my 14-year-old self and tell her that lying in the sun for hours will damage her skin, and that 24 is too young to be prodding at your face in the mirror. and then i will tell her to stop caring about what people think of her, and that she has great legs, but that she should do something about her hair. and then i will probably lecture her on the dangers of high-school dating in the hopes that she wont end up dating That Guy, and then i'll tell her that carbs become the new tobacco in about five years, and that if she cuts back on her daily bagel now, she'll be way ahead of her time...in short, i will probably do more harm than good, and she'll probably end up laying in the sun anyways, because who doesn't love a good tan? so perhaps i wont.

and SO, the asian anti-aging secrets. allow me to pass them on to you.

- soak two grams of panax ginseng root in four ounces of fresh water for half an hour, then steam in a double boiler for an hour, drinking half of the resultant liquid before breakfast and polishing it off the following day. what could be more simple?

- mix a teaspoon of powdered pearl (yes, real pearls, crushed to powder) with an egg white and half a teaspoon of honey. apply to face and let sit for 20 minutes. rinse.

- boil eye of newt and tongue of hummingbird in one quart of mountain goat urine until coagulates. spread half on face, one teaspoon on left kneecap, and consume remainder.

ok, maybe i made that last one up, but for real. powdered pearl? boiling, steaming, drinking? i'll stick to my blusher and eye-bags.

Saturday, February 17, 2007


so, i really and truly meant to have a new post for you today about books that i have read and what i have thought of them, but it's saturday, and i cleaned my room and spent four hours scanning and sorting photos and walked up to the mall in the rain and didn't get what i needed and did some half-assed pilates and some laundry and had a shower, and i was going to come sit down at the ole compy about an hour ago, but then my sister and i got caught up in a conversation about our farts (to which my mother politely listened) and how she (my sister) let loose a tiny tester-fart on the bus today and, relieved to find that it didn't smell, released the fart entire, only to have it hang like a noxious cloud for the remainder of the trip, and how my biggest pet peeve with joel isn't actually his inopportune farting (though i sort of do hate that), but that that is easier than explaining my real pet peeve, which is when he puts the bony tops of his feets on the bony tops of my feets (or any of my bony parts, like shins), because then people ask, how does that happen, and the truth is that it happens more often than you'd notice, unless the bony tops of feets really bothers you, and then it drives you crazy, and THAT is the real issue here.

and it's ten o'clock, and that is the time that i start getting ready for bed.

engagement photos

aPPARently, flickr will only let you upload 200 photos per account, unless you upgrade to the pro (ie. paid-for) account. which i won't.

solution? set up multiple accounts for multiple photo sets. so here are joel and my engagement photos, taken my my sister (who's other photography can be found here). the first seven are the ones she liked best, and spent time photoshopping zits (joel's) and wrinkles (mine) out of. the rest are ones i thought were cute. particularly the one of us jumping as high as we can (i didn't include the one where joel jumped so high that his shoe flew off, because i have chins [plural] in that one). i also like the ones with the shopping cart, because i think my hair looks kind of fabulous in them, not all dampness-frizz-chic like most of the other ones.


Friday, February 16, 2007

sports page = the grapes of wrath

last weekend, joel and i were having one of our terribly interesting and intelligent conversations, and this one happened to be about sports highlights. sports highlights are something that i enjoy in moderation, particularly of the 'best damn sports show period's top 50 outrageous sports moments' variety, which has more athletes beating up fans and anthem-singers forgetting words and then rushing to their dressing rooms in shame and then being coaxed to return only to fall on their asses before they even get to the mic than it does dekes and dunks. i delight in these, because how often do you see a boxer's mother start beating his opponent on the head with her shoe? on the other hand (in my opinion, which i expressed), you can only see so many amazing glove saves before they all start to look the same.

this, joel says, is because i do not watch enough sports.

if all you watch is sports highlights, then you start to think that highlights are (is?) all sports is (are?). apparently, if you sit through the tedium (i hear some like it) of an entire basketball game, you will better appreciate that one amazing play, that fluid motion and flawless communication. (joel and i being polar opposites, we draw a lot of analogies to better understand each other. this is his 'literature' analogy to help me understand 'sports') it's as though, he says, someone reads very little, and all that they do read is the 'good stuff,' best-seller fiction or literary classics or books of quotations. this leads them to assume that all books are full of pithy insights and cleverly-wrought phrases, and so they express neither surprise nor pleasure when they come upon a great novel. i, on the other hand, having read a great deal of tripe (this is not precisely true, but we'll come to that later), am more inclined to appreciate such literary treasures as 'the count of monte cristo,' or 'the poisonwood bible.'

this whole conversation, besides expanding my grasp of sports and their highlights, got me thinking about the amount of bad literature that i do or do not read. for years, all i read was classics (dickens, dumas, melville, steinback) because they were safe. they were established as 'good' books, and i didn't have to a) worry about putting effort into something that would lead to disappointment, or b) form an opinion on them, because they were classics. you can't say charles dickens sucks, because he doesn't. he's charles dickens. he wrote 'oliver twist' (which i just read again, and that disney movie about the cat really doesn't do it any justice, because it's quite fabulously dark, and you also can't say that charles dickens sucks because i'll punch you. in the eye. quite hard). and i'm lazy about forming opinions.

that being said, there are zouzands of books out there, and probably most of them are bad, and how do you keep from wasting your time? so i've taken suggestions from people i know, and from the blogs of people i don't know, and then often at the library i'll pick up a book just because it's called 'the sun also rises,' and haven't i heard of that somewhere before? or because there's this book, 'the mermaid something' that i keep seeing touted in chapters, by the author of 'something something bees,' only i've never read 'something something bees,' so that doesn't mean anything to me, until i'm in the library, and i'm like, oh look! 'a recipe for bees'! and so i took it home and read it, and it's really not all that good, but that's ok, because the book i actually meant was 'the secret life of bees.' which is a different book altogether.

and so what with my rediscovering the library, and deciding to branch out and read some potential tripe from time to time, and my two-and-a-half-hour daily transit adventure, i've been reading a cheerful menagerie of late. and because i'm lazy about forming opinions, i've decided to do just that, and set them down here for you, e-reader. not in a 'i liked it; i hated it; i was indifferent towards it' sort of way, because that does neither you nor me any good, but more in a 'it was quite delicious escapist literature without all the usual smut, and even though i'm always a little self-conscious and embarrased to be reading Christian fiction, because it all seems so contrived and ridiculous, maybe that has more to do with how i feel about my religion than it does with how i feel about the book, and the writing is quite good, and the characters are quite moving, and i almost did cry a little bit at the end, so i can't decide if i liked it or loved it, but i probably didn't hate it' which is actually how i feel about most books that aren't-classics-so-i-don't-have-to-like-them.

tangent the first: i've started reading the 'mark of the lion' series, jane. and that (see: above) is how i feel about the first book.

tangent the second: this post is actually a prequel to this post, in which i do this very thing that i'm talking about here. i just mean to do it more frequently, 's all i'm saying.

tangent the third: i really did hate 'moby dick,' classic or no.
sub-tangent: this guy blogs through his reading of moby dick in real-time. it's quite funny.

so, since i got distracted and spent probably half an hour perusing that guy's (see: above) blog, i've kind of lost the thread of this post. i think what i meant so say, in closing, was that this post is already WAAAAAAAY too long to be putting my literary e-opinions here, so i'll call it quits for the now.

addendum: joel, bent towards sciences and sports though he may be, has read 'anna karenina.' cover to cover. before it became part of oprah's book club. is he not fabulous?

Wednesday, February 14, 2007

trail mix

also, there was no soap in my shower, and i had to wash myself with shampoo.

also, pertaining to washing, this morning i washed my face with this apple facewash (agreeable and tangy) and then moisturized with this goat's milk moisturizer (pleasant, if a bit goaty), two products which i appreciate in and of themselves. however, the resultant combination of smells was so FOUL that i had to wash my face again, and was nearly late for work.

also, pertaining to work, i would just like to state (besides the fact that i'm a heartless, childless daycare worker who doesn't give a damn about mum's job and doesn't understand what it takes to survive in the real world) that it is CHEATING to give your child a tylenol to bring his fever down just before you drop him off at daycare, so that his temperature is a healthy 97.4 all day and we can't send him home, but he is very clearly still ill. and two years old. and autistic.

also, happy valentines day, everyone.

grow old with me! the best is yet to be!

a friend of mine has offered to make joel and me a wedding video, so i am currently scanning through the ages to transfer my childhood from 4x6 to .jpg. it's got me feeling all maternal about myself, because I AM CUTE! look at how cute i am!

see? cute! and here i am, with a little peek-a-boo belly! a cute one!

and this is me on the phone! so cute on the phone! i have kneesocks! (this is before kneesocks became trendy and whorish)!

and i am covered with sand! and SO pleased about it! and cute!

and wearing giant sunglasses! and cute!


and then i came back to my computer after a long night of scanning cute little me into the other computer, and somewhere between here and there, i grewed up!

it gave me something of a shock to see myself, all adult-like, with a fiance growing out of my temple, after hours of tiny, helpless, funny me. is this what parenting is, having them leap through twenty years while you're busy boiling water?

how terrifying.

Monday, February 12, 2007


oh, and now i can't post comments on other people's blogs, because it keeps saying my password is wrong, and i KNOW it's not.

now i feel coerced and robbed.

coles notes

this weekend i:

got chased by a goose

was thrown a wedding shower

received two crock pots

was served breakfast in bed

went to five different video stores looking for 'dirty work' with norm macdonald. worth every penny

switched to the new blogger. they kept hounding me, and finally there was no 'skip this and go on to dashboard' button. i feel coerced.

Thursday, February 08, 2007

what's 'taters,' precious?

the scene: snacktime
the snack: quesadillas

Co-Clarenceherd: do you want seconds?
May Be Slightly-Retarded Clarence: *emphatic nod*
Co-Clarenceherd: do you want seconds?
Clarenceasaurus: *emphatic nod*
MBSR Clarence to Clarenceasaurus, in a hoarse stage-whisper: what's 'seconds'?
Clarenceasaurus to MBSR Clarence: i don't know, but look! i got another one of these cheese things!

Wednesday, February 07, 2007

stapletation: subsection A

as an appendix to my last post, allow me to flash back to about two weeks ago.

on her way home from school, my sister stopped by the staples to get some prints put on transparencies for a class presentation. the exchange went thusly:
boo: can i get these prints put onto some transparencies?
staples guy: do you want them in color or in black-and-white?
aside: the prints were in b&w
boo, jocularly: well, black-and-white, unless you can get color out of these.
staples guy, straight-faced: no.
staples guy walks away, boo is left in the awkwardness of the moment.

less than an hour later, on my way home from work, i stopped by the staples to ask the self-same staples guy about getting invitation photos printed. the exchange went thusly:
me: *some long and convoluted question about printing 4x4 prints*
sssg: *some long-winded answer*
me: *some quasi-funny crack that i really don't remember, and i swear i would put in it here if i did and any look back at this blog's history will reveal that i have no problem putting my stupid comments down in print, but i really can't remember what i said. i just know that it wasn't over-funny, but it was something that a polite salesperson would usually chuckle at, because i am the customer, and i am always right. and funny.*
sssg: *straight-faced, uncomprehending, unlaughing answer*
staples guy walks away, i am left in the awkwardness of the moment.

i get home, boo and i swap stories. we laugh. she goes downstairs to print something. the printer beeps.

father: welp, out of toner. guess we'd better head to staples.
boo: eep. and i have more pictures i need printed.
me: eep. and i forgot to ask the staples guy something.

we go to staples. boo and i wait in line, have awkward conversation with sssg, hope he doesn't recognize us as those two girls who were trying (on separate occasions) to be funny, and then i go home and tell joel. he laughs. joel loves few things more than an awkward moment.

(see also: boo's comment on my last post)

Tuesday, February 06, 2007


so, yesterday (being sick, and inexplicably going to work anyways), i had a zillion errands to run in the evening. in a wave of self-pity and desire to get my shrinking skin into some flannel, i cut that zillion down to three manageable errands that all occurred in the same area of town (vital for those of us sans auto) and that would (supposedly) demand little of my time or energies.

i stopped by the gym to discuss whether or not i still maintained a membership there, despite my refusal to attend (or pay) for the past four months. the answer was, bizarrely, yes.

i dropped of a (three-weeks overdue) video. thanks, no-late-fees.

i stopped by staples to get the photos for our invitations printed. one hundred four-by-four prints, four to a page, equals twenty-five eight-and-a-half-by-eleven prints, with some room in the margins. staples does these for cheap. howEVER, they charge you a dollar per cut to cut them out for you, and since these photos were tricky business, they recommended that i cut them one sheet at a time, since their paper-cutter had a tendency to slide. that's nine cuts per sheet, times twenty-five sheets, equals two hundred and twenty-five cuts, equals two hundred and twenty-five dollars.


i could cut them out myself.

do you know how long takes to make two hundred and twenty-five cuts? an hour. an hour! that's EIGHTY-SIX YEARS IN SICK-TIME!!! the fellow at staples was kind enough to let me use their fine paper-cutting device, so at least i wasn't stuck at home hacking away with my safety scissors, but i shiverred and coughed and sneezed out little bits of photo paper and got dirty looks from the staples-girl for phlegming on their equipment, all for the sake of a fine invitation.

the point of this post, i guess, is this. if you get an invite, count yourself lucky. not because you get to partake of the splendor that will be my wedding, but because what you hold in your hands represents the sweat of my brow, and the expectoration of my lungs. if your picture has a scrap of white border on the edge that i failed to cut off, or if the slice isn't exactly even, don't mention it. i will open-handed slap you, on my wedding day.

Monday, February 05, 2007

in which i call myself a liar

last night, i said to myself, 'i am sick. i am so sick, there's no WAY i am going to work tomorrow. i am actually going to call in sick, i'm that sick.'

when i woke up at four o'clock this morning, i reiterated to myself how sick i was, and how much i was NOT going to go to work.

when i woke up at six, however...'dammit! i feel A LITTLE BIT BETTER.'

so, not sick enough to stay home, but sure sick enough to wish i was dead, i am trying to appreciate life's little favors. like, when you wake up in the middle of the night and your southside nostril is completely stuffed, and then you roll over and it becomes your northside nostril, and you can feel the congestion shattering and for, like, twenty-six seconds, you can actually breathe like normal people.

Thursday, February 01, 2007

a hair-braned misadventure

so, today i was working out a little bit, because sometimes i do that, and then afterwards i was stretching out, in order to be able to walk around tomorrow, and this brought my face in proximity with my naked leg. now, during the summer, the naked leg is not a frightening thing; you grow accustomed through familiarity. everywhere you walk, stand, or sit, there is your naked leg, or at least your naked calf, or at least your naked mid-calf-point-down-to-the-ankle (pants which i will admit are devestatingly cute on the skinny-legged, but for the rest of us, it cuts you off right at your fat point and draws all the attention there, and that's not what you want. I watch 'what not to wear'). and odds are, it's a (relatively) hair-free leg.

the naked leg during the winter is like that uncle who shows up every christmas, having put on a little more weight and forgotten to shave.

so today, as i sat stretching, i got a good, close look at my naked-below-the-gym-shorts leg. my first thought was 'ye gads! someone has replaced my leg with that of a man! a sparsely-haired man, to be true, but one who's lower limbs have certainly not met with a razor since that one time in college.'

and so then i went to shave in our stand-up shower (our real shower, with the tub, is broked), and slipped a few times, and got tired of suspending one leg in the air because there's no bathtubside to rest it on, and all my shaving foam kept rinsing off because there's nowhere to put your leg that's outside the stream of the shower, and then i cut myself and the foam all ran into it, and i hadn't rinsed out my conditioner yet, and that all ran into it, and i only got most of one leg and patches of the other cleared and that'll have to do.

and tomorrow, my legs will be cold, because the hairs really do keep you warm.