things that make you go "hmm"...

Or, 'mmmkay??' or something. I think I'll still pass on prison, thanks. And what happens when it all fades to black? I wouldn't want to be that one 'woman.'


Also, why are Starbucks sizes 'tall,' 'grande' and 'venti?' I've been wondering this for a long time now, but I've never gotten around to asking. So, I'm asking you? Did someone not know how to say 'tall' in Italian? And, really, 'venti?' Because somehow 'twenty' (or 'winds') denotes something monstrous, so much bigger than 'grande' (which I keep saying aloud, complete with the trilling of the 'r'). Why not 'dodici,' 'dicisei' and 'venti,' hmm? Why not 'small,' 'medium' and 'large?' Why not? [I know, you come here for the really important issues.]



I love the end of this video with John Goodman's voiceover (well, or someone else who sounds much like him). Because, y'know, 'latte' is English. Wait, what's that? Oh.

if there was any question...

...and sometimes there is. Sometimes I wonder who this small person who lives in the room across from this one is. She's so different from me, sometimes, that it's hard to see myself in her.

This was the case today, when we returned from her school and she decided that what she wanted to watch was something like Frosty and Friends Sing-Along Songs. Ugh. Christmas tunes, my very favorite in all the world. And, then, during her viewing of this spectacular (but pleasantly short) video, she started talking about weddings...AGAIN.

My child is obsessed with weddings. I have no idea why. I've never suffered this fever, not even when it came to my own wedding. It must be something with the dresses and the bounce houses (our dearly beloved friends rented one of these for their wedding this summer). So, yes, I blame this obsession on freaking Disney princesses and on those same dearly beloved friends who asked Pic to be a flowergirl in their wedding (the wedding was fabulous, by the way).

So, on and on she yammers about the wedding.

"Who's wedding," I ask.

"My wedding," she replies.

"Who are you going to marry?"

"S." [The ringbearer at the wedding.]

"Why S?"

"Because he said 'Yes' when I asked him."

And, ah, there it is. This is definitely my child.

"Papi said 'Yes' when I asked him, too," I told her.

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In other non-news, I was tired and out-of-sorts (to put it nicely) today. I was immediately annoyed with Cardo when he came home. (Screw you and your full-time job that takes you out of these walls that I so often allow to close in around me.) I tried to hold my temper. I asked him, as usual, "How was work today?" "Slow." ...

No, "How was your day?" or anything. Although, he did ask me later, "What did you do today? Nothing?"

Yes, fathead, I did nothing. I sat here in my mangy pajamas and drooled. I was so pissed at him that I told him, "Yes." Sure, I do nothing here. I got Pic up and fed and dressed, teeth brushed, lunch made, hair combed. I helped her into her big puffy jacket and walked her to school. I washed the dishes (by hand, I prefer this to the dishwasher) and folded and put away the laundry. I fed myself. I picked up. I read. I blogged. I made dinner. Damn it all to hell and back, dinner was almost finished by the time he came home, so it's not like I started it after he got here. So, yes, aside from that, I did nothing.

Now, I'm not saying that all of that is anything extraordinary. I didn't scrub toilets or cure cancer, but it sure as crap wasn't nothing. I hate that he assumes this. The man only occasionally washes dishes and no longer does his own laundry. He barely spends any one-on-one time with Pic, so most of the bringing up of the kidlet is done by me and her teachers.* It's not like he ever cleans the cat pan and I can't remember the last time he gave Pic her bath. I know that he goes to work a ridiculous amount of hours a week, but he still has two full days off. I appreciate what he does for this family, but I feel like he all-too-often assumes that I do, well, nothing. I'd love to trade him for a week. I'd hate doing his job, but I think that he'd equally hate doing mine.

So, anyhow, sorry. Or not. I just needed to vent. We'll just spend the rest of the evening quietly avoiding each other, reading our own books. Then, I'll put away the clean dishes and wash the dinner dishes. Then, tomorrow, he'll be off to work again and I'll bath, dress and feed our child. I'll take her on our regular outing, we'll grocery shop a tad, I'll read to her, wash more dishes, clean the cat pan, take out the trash and make more dinner. All of which, y'know, is...nothing.

The end.

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P.S. I know that the tones of those two parts didn't quite match, but I didn't want to create two separate posts.

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* I'm not saying that he doesn't play an active role in her upbringing. I'm just saying, well, what I already said. I spend more one-on-one time with her. I could try to explain myself some more, but I'll spare you.

blog sprint

One Minute Writer for today: What are you waiting for?

I'm waiting by the phone...waiting for you to call me up and tell me I'm not alone.

Ha...uh, yeah, just kidding.

I'm most of the time waiting to feel like an actual grown-up. I know, I know, I've been out of high school for almost a decade and I have a kid and a sigot (significant other) of my very own. I own a car. It took me almost six years to pay it off, but, a little over a year ago, I did. I have a 'job.' I put that in quotes because I can't seem to take myself seriously. I still feel like a freakin' kid, which explains the whole thing I'm waiting for.

I'm waiting to not be so afraid of everything in life.

Oh, I'm also waiting for a time when Sleep and I are pretty good pals.

I'll have another post later, one of nostalgia and stuff, but I don't feel like writing it now. So, now, my dear three readers, you have your very own thing to wait for.

In the meantime, a ditty for you.

loving up the locals...parte due

Okay, so now for tales in bookshop fun. Or something. (My mind is half on this and half on an old podcast on moneymaking on these here blog-things.)

Pic and I went in search of a book. I had no idea what the exact title of the book was. I didn't know who wrote it. I had not a clue who illustrated it. In swoops the friendly bookstore clerk at Sundance. Two seconds after my mumbled request, she was leading me to the shelves and we found it!

So, I bought Pic a board book today. She really has very few of these and I feel almost silly buying it for her (for whatever reason, I feel like I'm not allowed to buy an almost-four-year-old a board book), but she reads this one at school every day now...or so she tells us. And, hey, I'm all for the buying of more books, thanks much.

The book that was something like the mouse? and the strawberry? That?



The Little Mouse, the Red Ripe Strawberry and the Big Hungry Bear. [Hey, lookie here, it also comes in freaking-expensive paperback.]

I also bought Hope from the sale rack. We have yet to read it.



For myself, I got Miss Alcott's E-mail and Grammar Girl's Quick and Dirty Tips for Better Writing. I'm wondering if the latter could somehow be good, useful, fun, ecc for my upcoming class. Oh, and it's signed by the author, a residual copy from a recent signing.





I also ordered (again) No One Cares What You Had for Lunch, which is supposed to be here by Tuesday. I never got the copy I ordered the first time because some people like to commit felonies.



Oh, oh, and I finally used my $10 reward thingy for semi-frequently buying books from this wonderful independent establishment.

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P.S. Yes, I thought that y'all really needed to see little pictures of the covers, as found on amazon (which I won't link (again) because, hey, it's amazon...although why it's called such, I haven't the foggiest, as my mom would say).

things that make you go "hmm"...

So, I just read this over on Storked! Good words for thought, I think. I just thought I'd put it out there, but I'll not comment on it now.

oh, and...

I want to participate in a NaBloPoMo this year and I don't know that I will be able to commit myself to November. So, I'll get an early start on the trying (there might be a couple of sketchy days if we actually make it for a mini-holiday, so we'll see).

Besides, how cute is the badge? (It's over there on the right --->.)

gearing up for next semester

I was telling Poke tonight that come a bit-over-a-fortnight from now, I'll be teaching a class themed in American popular culture. After I uttered that, we both had the same thought: I'll get to learn plenty about what American popular culture is. Sure, I can tell my students about things like blogs and Twitter and Flicker (the latter two services I have yet to join and use because I know that I'd never update anything on them and then I'd feel guilty about it). If anyone other than me is interested, I could tell them plenty about 'mommyblogs' (in quotes because I know some people loathe the label, but there it is for lack of something better). However, beyond that, I'm pretty clueless. I listen to classic rock and NPR. The only magazines I currently even open are Self and Cooking Light. The only tv I watch anymore is fuzzy PBS Kids.* I buy clothes at Goodwill and Savers. I own the cheapest cell phone available (it doesn't flip, it doesn't take pictures, it's not a fancy color). I kind of abhor text messaging. I still hyphenate 'e-mail' (I actually had an internal debate about this and We decided that We would continue with the hyphen). I don't know that many books, if any at all, will fall into the realm of popular culture. I'm just a bit out of touch. Regardless, I think that next semester should be fun and a good learning experience for me.

Some questions I'm thinking to ask my students at the beginning of the semester:

* How do you/we define 'popular culture'?
* What are some examples of things/people/places/ideas that fall into this realm?

The first essay in our text is 'The More Factor' (from The Hunger for More: Searching for Values in an Age of Greed, 1989) by Laurence Shames. In it, Shames discusses our notions of 'frontier' and how that term now describes the economy and the possibilities for personal wealth, rather than 'frontier' indicating the great and wild west. Shames discusses how we measure success in the quantity of things we buy, even if the quality of those things is not great. I plan to also ask my students the following:

* How do you/we define success?

This question, one I contemplate often, always makes me think of high school Senior Superlatives from the yearbook. 'Most likely to succeed.' First of all, I always feel that that phrase is somewhat filled with hopelessness. 'As a group, you probably won't succeed, but of you, these two are most likely to do so.' Anyhow, my weird, inane thoughts aside, I always wondered what 'success' the choosers had in mind. At our school, the guy and gal with the highest GPAs were chosen, and I think that this is probably how it usually works. But, what did the voters have in mind? These two would, of course because of their successes as shown by grades in high school classes, go on to lead full and rich lives? Lives full of expensive cars and vacation homes? What?

So, anyhow, I'm interested in finding out what my students have to say.

I could go into an entire discussion about my own thoughts about my own level of 'success' and how I hate that I too often base it on my (meagre) paycheck, but I'll spare you...for now.

Okay, so I'll leave you with one more quote from the essay. This comes after Shames has discussed how we (Americans), from our inception, have always been wanting, well, more.

If the supply of more went on forever, perhaps that wouldn't matter very much. Expansion could remain a goal unto itself, and would continue to generate a value system based on bulk rather than on nuance, on quantities of money rather than on quality of life, on 'progress' itself rather than on a sense of what the progress was for. But what if, over time, there was less more to be had?

That is the essential situation of America today.

Let's keep things in proportion: The country is not running out of wealth, drive, savvy, or opportunities. We are not facing imminent ruin, and neither panic nor gloom is called for. But there have been ample indications over the past two decades that we are running out of more.

Again, please keep in mind that the book from which this is taken was published in 1989. But, wow. We could almost get by with removing all of the negatives from that last paragraph of the quote, no?

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* This is a very recent development. I used to watch perfectly unfuzzy PBS Kids, Monk, sometimes Psych, House, M.D., Grey's Anatomy and What Not To Wear on a regular basis.