Dear Scientists and Inventors of the World,

So, you guys have made a lot of cool stuff. I really appreciate the cars and computers and flush toilets. Thanks. You've even made some pretty impressive strides in the feminine hygiene department. Pads for absorbing menstrual flow have wings, dams, and one I saw on TV last night can even ride a mechanical bull. So, props there too.

BUT

Here's what I need y'all to do. PLEASE invent a tampon with a wrapper and applicator that won't disintegrate in the bottom of my purse. That way, then next time I start my period while teaching 2^nd period to a bunch of adolescent boys, I won't have to scurry to the bathroom, discover it's out of toilet paper, go back to class and grab my purse, fish around in it, find the remnants of a month old tampon that has come unwrapped and slid out of the applicator, pick off the Teddy Graham crumbs and gum wrappers, and then try to shove it up my chotch.

 

Thanks! J

Oooh La La!

Remember International Children's Day?

It's that thing at Montessori where on Halloween the kids don't wear their costumes, but rather, dress like a child from a foreign country? I THOUGHT last year that they were supposed to come dressed as a kid from their heritage, thus freaked out trying to put together a "Danish Girl" costume (and pulled it off quite nicely, if I do say so myself) and then showed up to a bunch of white kids dressed like they were from Hawaii, China, the Arctic, and Africa. So this year, Soph and I decided on France.

Voila!Pretty cute--huh?

Now I just have to figure out what to take for food. Soph wants to take crepes, but I don't know the first thing about crepe making, and think I'd probably fuck it up. Plus, isn't a crepe one of those things that you have to make and then eat pretty much immediately? Another idea was to make some mini quiches, but then again, I'm not sure how quiche would fly with the under 6 set. There's also croissants, which I could just grab at the store, but you know that dumb little voice in your head that urges you to be FABULOUS? It's kind of nagging at me. I hope it will shut up. What do you think?

Soph Said

"Mrs. Wood said that I have to quit tasting what the glue tastes like."

Dear Mandy

Wow. I think I've posted enough lately that I don't even need to start this post with an excuse/apology for not posting.

Now then, I love my sis, but she's not big on the calling. Frankly, neither am I. And since I need something to post today, I'm just going to write her a letter.

Dear Mandy,

Hey sugar! What's going on in the Krause House? I hope the kidletts are well. Is Zack still loving school? How's Madeline doing with the writing and homework? Is Clark-baby on the road again? Also, how is the Yoga class going?

Now then, the Jorgensen's. Well, we finally closed on the house. I can't fucking believe how much it costs to get a mortgage. Does anyone even know what title insurance is for? And mortgage insurance? They might as well call it getting fucked in the ass insurance, because that's exactly what it is. We did arrange for a little cash back, so I think we're going to put in a nice big Jacuzzi tub for me, and do a little work on the patio. In my head, I'm imagining a little Japanese garden space, but in my heart, I know we'll end up with some kind of covering and maybe a new patio set.

We got Sophie's Halloween costume, and I think she's going to be a very cute Princess Leah. E is planning on Han Solo, and Janz is going as Lando Calrisian. I don't think I really fit into the Star Wars mix, but we shall see.

School's going ok. Of course in my film class today, we were trying to write our Chicago reviews, and half the class hadn't been in class to watch the movie. I don't even know what to do with that. Tomorrow is the writing UBSCT, and I THINK most of my kids are ready. We shall see.

What else? Mom's doing better; no major philosophical breakdowns for a while. We all went to Chinese for Dad's birthday, and Jon, Katy and I went in on a digital photo frame for him. Katy is doing good—I think. Apparently she has something in the works with a guy named Giovanni, and she's picking up Soph from school for me a couple times this week.

Soph is so excited for Thanksgiving. She misses you guys like crazy. (Me too) I think the plan has become to have dinner at Mom's, and then adjourn to my place for dessert. I'm excited for you to see my new house. Where are you guys going to stay? That little house you stayed in last time worked out SO well.

 

Love you so!

Boo

Reason I’m a Petty Person, #102

Yesterday was the Montessori family picnic. They have one twice a year and it's always a potluck. I always sign up to take a main-dish, and I always take a big homemade macaroni and cheese casserole. At a function like this, everyone tries to bring something fancy and delicious. You know the drill. It's mostly rich, fabulous moms who grind their own wheat and grow organic gardens, so they bring things like spinach and goat cheese salad with fresh pair (that one was good) or vegan chocolate chip cookies (WTF?). I, on the other hand, cook up a big vat of macaroni noodles with a white sauce made with whatever cheeses happen to be left over in my fridge, and top it with crunched up stuffing mix.

Everyone always bring way too much, and there are always tons of leftovers. Except for mine. My mac 'n' cheese is always gone. Dads are always standing around scraping the sides of the casserole pan, and at least one or two moms ask me for the recipe.

This brings me a ridiculous amount of satisfaction. To see my empty ratty Corelware pan sitting next to the beautiful Pottery Barn bowl full of marinated kalamata olives or some such thing absolutely makes my day. I'm still grinning about it.

And that is reason 102 that I am a very, very petty person.

It’s alive!

It = the blog, and in all honesty, just barely.

My dears, I think this blog has jumped the shark.

As I sit here at my desk, munching my apple and pita chips with hummus (don't be impressed. Yesterday it was a teriyaki burger from Carl's Jr.) I really think I may have run out of things to say.

I've thought of blogging about school. I'm sure I could get huge chuckles over painfully bad writing that my kids sometimes turn in. Also, running a "best lie of the day" section would be easy/schmeasy. We could even do the longest/dumbest education acronym, or most asinine euphemism (how's "Student Involvement Activity" for worksheet). But I think I'd probably get fired.

Soph is just big. She's in school all day. Her daily exploits are often unbeknownst to me, her mother. Sure, at times she'll start singing "For He's the Jolly Good Butt Crack" for no apparent reason, but butt-crack songs do not a complete blog make.

So—I'm stuck. I can't blog in honesty about myself—because that would piss people off and make my life more difficult. I can't blog about my kid, because she's kind of running out of material. I can't blog about work, because that would lead to official reprimands.

I don't know what to do. Maybe some letters to inanimate objects.

Dear Work Chair,

You've been my work chair for a while now. On the outside you look reasonably nice. You adjust up and down, and tilt forward and back. You're very rolley, and spinney, and a not-to-vomitous shade of teal green. But chair, I know your game. Benign though you may be on the outside, a torture rack lurks underneath. All I have to do is sit in you for 2 minutes, and the pain begins. First a pang to the left of my lower spine. Then a pang to the right. My ass begins to fall asleep, and I start shifting around on my pelvis, my spine clicking like little mouse castanets. Well know this. Your time is almost up. Some day and soon, you'll find yourself dumpster diving. So there.

Dear Vitamin Water,

I bought you at Smiths for lunch because you were near the check-out and on sale. Apparently you are tropical citrus flavored, and are designed to give me NRG. Sweet. I could use some of that. I am noticing, however, that you contain no juice. Fine, fine, rest on your guarana content, if that's how you want to roll. If you can get me through 4^th period independent study, a play-date at my house with 2 little girls plus my own, help me actually make dinner instead of ordering take out, and keep me out of bed until at least 9:00, I don't care if your secret ingredient is dog shit. Ok. I would care. But not if it was, say iguana scale or even fish pancreas. If fish have a pancreas. I'm not sure about that. Anyway—keep on vapor distilling and reverse osmosising. Peace.

There--A post. Now then, because I am a comment whore and must go whoring around for comments, you have 3 options. 1. Tell me what you had for lunch today. Details please. 2. Tell me how much you missed me and how empty your life was without me. 3. You're on your own. Throw up a random comment like you usually do. You know, like "Wow! A teriyaki burger? I had one of those a couple of years ago and found a rat tail in the pineapple slice."