Wednesday, March 26, 2008

It's great, but seriously where ARE the buses?!

A walk on the beach with Melissa...

The socks should have been my first clue that this was going to be a LONG day...

Today has been interesting. I have the following to report so far:

  • I somehow managed to put on two different colored socks this morning. I don’t know how – especially considering that I ball up socks in matching pairs and the OTHER black and brown socks are still sitting in my suitcase…separately.

  • They ran out of coffee during the morning coffee break. This happened (OF COURSE!) right as I finally made it to the head of the line I had been waiting in for fifteen minutes. Luckily, there was more coffee down the hall, but STILL!

  • You can totally see my support hose under my oh-so professional kaki pants. And, no. No, they are not that fitted (the pants, not the support hose).

  • I heard a woman say, “It doesn’t matter if your boobs are three feet away or not. Sometimes you’ve just got to deal with stuff like that in life.” At first I thought I had misheard heard what she said. But then I saw her holding her hands WAY out in front of her as if she was cupping very large breasts. I SO wish I knew what they were talking about!

  • I had to sit next to MAM this morning. For those of you “in the know”, that should say it all.

  • Last night, I discovered that another museum professional (who I previously thought was in his mid-thirties) is actually only 28 AND graduated from high school a year before me. Apparently, this shocked me, because I promptly responded with something like, “You’re kidding! I totally thought you were a whole lot older!” Luckily, this individual has a sense of humor and is now referring to himself as “the old man” every time I see him. I’m STILL mortified. I must have left my filter in Dallas.

  • Sprayed surprisingly juicy lemon all over table and self at lunch today. Think citric acid maybe have permanently damaged new shirt.

  • It’s going on three and housekeeping still hasn’t made an appearance on my floor. This isn’t really an issue, but something I found odd nevertheless. Maybe they just forgot about me?

  • I skipped the conference business meeting to get caught up on work related phone calls. Several teachers have called me in a panic trying to schedule field trips BEFORE the end of the week (Friday is DISD's deadline for booking buses and off site programming). Why do teachers always wait until the last minute? For some unknown reason, though, two teachers have called on their cell phones and left messages that are completely incomprehensible. All I can make out is static, parts of phone numbers and something-something high school. Grrrrrr. Why couldn't they have called me last week when I was, I dunno, IN THE OFFICE?!

And, technically, the day is not even half over, yet.

Awe-some. I need a nap...

On the bright(er) side, this is the sight that greeted me this morning:

Tuesday, March 25, 2008

Railroads and Riches...

Tonight we went to three different museums for our evening conference activity including:

  1. The Railroad Museum

  2. The Moody Mansion

  3. Bishop’s Palace

Other than the line literately being out the door and around the block for the ONE (yes, ONE food station for over 150 people) at the Railroad Museum, the night was lots of fun. It is always a lot of fun to see what other museums and historic locations are doing educationally. Yes, I’m a dork that way.

Of course, not everything you see needs to be duplicated. Take the following for example:

How scary is that? Dolls are so not my thing. They completely freak me out. And that one? Yeah, totally something out of a Stephen King novel.

The Moody Mansion (circa 1895)

Bishop's Palace (circa 1887)

(Sorry about the poor photo quality. Architectural shots never work out well after dark.)

I've arrived (or something)...

I just arrived in Galveston. For a conference.

That’s right: I’m working. At the beach.


My room? Yeah, it has an ocean view, a king-sized bed, free internet access and two sinks in the bathroom.


Things have definitely improved since the days of sharing a super-sketchy La Quinta Inn motel room with RR in Beaumont. Not that sharing a room with RR isn’t fun, mind you. I’m just saying that this is better. A lot better.

Yep. I just checked and there are definitely NO biker gangs hanging outside my room door drinking beer. What more can you ask for?!

Here are some photos from my hotel room:

The Ocean View...

The Pool...

Not One, But TWO Poolside Bars...

And A Water Slide. Nice!

Too bad I'm back in support hose and can't fully enjoy being at the beach. Actually, that's probably a good thing since I'm technically here to "work" and all. Boo!

Thursday, March 20, 2008

Wednesday, March 19, 2008

What happens when ALL my irrational fears gang up on me at once...

Lee Harvey’s is hosting the first “Luther Challenge” of the year this Sunday.

What’s a “Luther Challenge” you ask?

Well, according to the description sent to me in the weekly newsletter, a “Luther” consists of:
Two 1/2 pound burger patties, grilled onions, six thick strips of apple-smoked bacon, and a fistful of cheddar cheese, all sandwiched between two Krispy Kreme donuts!

If you can eat an entire Luther in 20 minutes, it's free (if not, it's $20). As we found out last time, it certainly can be done and we challenge all of our carnivorous customers to do it again!

Because nothing says “Happy Easter” like 3,500 calories of cholesterol-laden, donutty goodness.

I think I just threw up a little...

An update on Echo...

I saw this for the first time last night, and almost totally cried (shut up. I'm a dog lover). Hooray, for Echo! Hooray, for Pedigree! Hooray, for shelter dogs!

(Also, hooray, for updates! Because, thanks to THE OTHER ECHO COMMERCIAL, I haven't been able to watch my beloved ANIMAL PLANET for the past six weeks!)

Tuesday, March 18, 2008

High Water in Big D...AGAIN

It's raining here today.

And by "rain" I really mean "torrential downpour".

Seriously. It started raining around 9 AM and isn't supposed to stop until sometime tomorrow morning.

Did I mention that we've already gotten well-over FOUR INCHES? Yeah. And according to the Weather Channel, the worst is yet to come. The radar map is just covered with greens, yellows and reds slowly inching their way towards Dallas. Not cool. I’m contemplating building an ark.

As you can imagine, things are flooding. Some of the pictures the local news affiliates are posting are reminiscent of THIS FLOOD which occurred almost two years ago TO THE DAY.

If I had my camera with me, I’d totally take a picture of the lake outside my office window. As the day goes on, it keeps getting bigger and inching closer to the building. Did I mention I’m in the basement and my office windows look out at ground level (i.e. my office is partially underground)? If the water gets high enough, I’m sure the “new lake” will come cascading inside. I’m imagining a waterfall of sorts. Stupid, old sinking building! Maybe I should start moving things to higher ground just to be safe…?

In other news, I was supposed to be interviewed by a local TV reporter this afternoon. She called to confirm our appointment around 10 AM, only to call back an hour later and cancel. Apparently, she works from home and was completely unaware that it was raining outside AT ALL. That is until she finally got around to looking out her bedroom window. Does this mean she doesn’t work in the rain? Like, ever? Because that was definitely implied when she called back around 11 and said, “I’m going to have to cancel. I just noticed it is raining outside.” Had she called later on this afternoon, I’d totally understand. There are tornado and flood warnings posted everywhere. But at 11 this morning it was just raining. Yes, it was raining hard, but it wasn’t THAT big of a deal. At least not yet anyway.


I just hope I don’t have to swim home.

Monday, March 17, 2008


Here are some of my pictures from last year's Greenville Avenue St. Patrick's Day Parade. I don't know why I didn't post them this time last year, but whatever. Better late than never, right?

Plus, I didn't make it to this year's parade. The whole I-gave-up-all-good-stuff-for-Lent thing (including sweets, fried food AND alcohol) kind of put a damper on the St. Patrick's Day festivities. In fact, Trevor and I opted for a hot box yoga class and lunch with my grandmother instead of a morning of green beer, drunken crowds and loud music. We are super-exciting like that.

Yeah: Yawn.

Anyway, here you go:

Everyone CAN wear pants like this, but not everyone SHOULD.

Where do you go to buy green leggings?

What happens when a leprechaun mates with a zebra.

Uhmmm, there's a baby. Whose baby? Hello?

Because NOTHING says St. Patrick's Day like a pirate hat.

It's the guy from the LUCKY CHARMS commercials!

Someone should pinch these two...

I want a green cowboy hat...

Obviously, THIS is the place to be...

Really? A Hawaiian shirt? That's the BEST you can do?

Thursday, March 13, 2008

Finding new and exciting ways of torturing myself (and paying a lot of money to do so)...

Now that STAGE I (i.e. the vein surgery I had back in January) is complete, it is time for STAGE II.

For this I had two options:

  1. The way COVERED by insurance

  2. The way NOT COVERED by insurance

I know what you are thinking: go with the option covered by insurance, right? Well, what if I told you that the “insured way” involved the doctor slicing into your leg, grabbing at your veins with nothing more than glorified tweezers and RIPPING the little suckers out of your body? Yeah, no thank you. Especially since the so-called “insured method” carries with it a high risk of both infection and permanent scarring. I don’t wear shorts or skirts very often, but that doesn’t mean I don’t like having the choice!

The way NOT covered by insurance seemed much more humane. They inject something into your veins that closes them slowly over the course of several sessions. The risk of infection is almost zero, as is the risk of permanent scarring. Once the vein is closed off, it is absorbed by the body. Bye-bye problem vein. The end.

Of course, insurance doesn’t cover anything “humane”. Especially, when the process of injecting veins is considered to be a “cosmetic procedure”. And I guess it is if you think being scarred for life is a problem (which I do).

Needless to say, I’m not doing all this because I have a few surface varicose or spider veins. My problem veins are six to eight times larger than "normal" veins, and are located deep below the skin – complete with incompetent valves and a lot of pain and discomfort. All this puts me at high risk for *fun* things like blood clots and stroke. A few spider veins at the surface are the least of my worries.

Be that as it may, I’d still prefer NOT to have to risk both infection and scarring to fix the problem (call me crazy). So, I opted to pay for STAGE II out of my own pocket. Money I would have preferred to spend on something else, but whatever. Stupid old lady veins!

So, last Monday, I went in for STAGE II, ROUND I of my treatment. And, whereas the uninsured STAGE II procedure previously sounded 100 times better than the alternative, it was still a form of systemized torture. I'm lucky that way.

Here’s what happened:

I was lead to a back room where a doctor proceeded to stick my left leg no less than 120 times (no, I am NOT exaggerating) with looooooong, thick needles filled with a fluid that looked suspiciously like Elmer’s glue. As if that wasn’t bad enough, my leg both looked and FELT like it had been attacked by a swarm of blood-thirsty mosquitoes. The itching was unbelievable. Dogs have been known to gnaw off entire limbs under similar circumstances in the wild.

Then, they brought in (and had me pay for) a brand new pair of support hose. I’m convinced it is some sort of conspiracy between the vein doctor and the people over at Jobst to get me to buy yet another pair of the damn things. Seriously, why not just tell me to bring a pair with me from home before the procedure? Just because I don’t currently own a pair of compression hose described as "thigh highs" does NOT mean I’m looking to fill that particular void. And I can put them on myself, thankyouverymuch! Grrrrrrr…

But the BEST part was that I had worn three-quarter length sweat pants to the doctor (since I was not expecting to be back in the hose following the procedure), so the support hose were not completely hidden under my clothing. At the bottom of my right leg: nothing. The bottom of my left leg, however: support hose. I looked like a one-legged-support-hose-wearing freak. And, thanks to a very hectic errand-running afternoon schedule, I didn’t have a chance to run home and change. That’s right: I’m bringing sexy back. Granny style. Take that Justin Timberlake!

Even better? I get to go back next Monday and do it all over again on my right leg. Awe-some! I’d be lying if I said I couldn’t wait.

Did I mention this is only ROUND I? Yeah, I get to look forward to AT LEAST three more rounds of this fun. The anticipation is killing me.


Wednesday, March 12, 2008

I was attacked!

In an act of violence, Trevor scratched my forehead with his finger. I still have the mark to prove it. THREE DAYS LATER!

Depending on who you talk to, the scratch was either completely unprovoked or the result of me (ME?!) trying to bite Trevor’s nipple (AS IF!).

Bert witnessed the entire thing, but refuses to comment. Booooooo!

Tuesday, March 11, 2008

When doing "work" is too much "work"...

From: Deals
Sent: Thursday, February 21, 2008 4:22 PM
To: Tracy
Cc: Melissa
Subject: About Lucy...

Dear Tracy,

I am writing you today to express my concerns about Lucy the Cow. She seems depressed, underappreciated and understandably bitter. After all, Miss Lucy has been stuck in the back of the park with the wooly yard art, while the two jackasses, Nip and Tuck, enjoy all the lime light and stardom up front. It just isn’t fair. Lucy is better than the donkeys. Everyone knows that.

I really feel like Lucy deserves to be kept indoors. In private quarters (nothing less than 1500 square feet is acceptable) with a private “mucking boy” available day and night so Miss Lucy is not forced to stand in her own filth. Ideally, Lucy’s bungalow will be accommodated with a parlor room stocked with plenty of tea and crumpets for members of her adoring fan club, like myself. After all, calling on my favorite bovine in weather like today is both uncivilized and uncomfortable. And yet you subject poor Lucy to this day and night. For shame!

If she must go outside, she needs some sort of blanket that she can wrap herself in so she doesn’t catch a chill. Preferably, this will made using some sort of pink, floral print, but we are willing to consider other fabric patterns as well – especially tartan. The blanket should obviously be top of the line and be designed with her special dimensions in mind. It should utilize the latest in Waterproof Barrier Technology, plus have a removable neck cover for those bitterly cold Texas mornings. Other things to consider: a 1000 denier outer shell lined in coat-smoothing nylon and Front Leg Arches for a contoured fit (we cannot have our lady looking too bulky now can we?).

In the summer, Miss Lucy requests fly masks to protect her eyes and ears from buzzing pests. Especially if she has to go anywhere near the other “animals”. Donkeys, chickens and sheep are notorious for being infested with flies, ticks and fleas.

As for her diet (which currently leaves a lot to be desired), we would really like to see Lucy’s chef prepare more meals that include the following organic ingredients: Corn (preferably steam rolled), oats, barley, and sometimes milo and wheat combined with soybean meal (which sounds much more appetizing than cottonseed meal. Ew.). Lucy will also consider linseed meal, canola meal and sunflower meal, but not corn gluten feed or corn gluten meal. After all, the word “gluten” is not a word we want affiliated with our favorite bovine. On occasion (or if she has a craving) Alfalfa meal is acceptable as a protein source but NEVER alfalfa pellets. Miss Lucy eats nothing described as “pellet”.

Obviously, some extra vitamins and minerals should also be added to her meals to ensure her good looks for years to come. A good A-D-E complex should suffice in addition to some calcium, phosphorus, potassium and magnesium.

Miss Lucy also requires at least four to five pounds of hay a day. Preferably, the hay will incorporate some alfalfa, but not too much since it may cause diarrhea in large quantities (something Lucy wishes to avoid at all costs as it is messy). Top quality grass hay is a good choice with or without the alfalfa blended into it. Wheat bran (if shredded) may also be considered in a pinch.

For dessert, Lucy would like Mrs. Blume to get into the habit of baking a tray or two of molasses cookies for her every evening. This might sound negotiable, but it is not. What Lucy wants, Lucy should get. Mrs. Blume will understand.

Also, Lucy is quite upset about the state of her current water bowl. As it stands now, poor Lucy has to share fowl tasting tap water with a punch of dirty, old sheep. These baaing nuisances have been known to regularly spit and/or drool in the bucket and make the water so disgusting Lucy can barely choke it down. She only drinks it because she has to, but – believe me – Lucy is constantly teetering on the brink of extreme dehydration. To correct this injustice, please provide Lucy with slightly warmed water in the winter and chilled (not icy) in the summer. Water should be imported from the French Alps (Evian in bottled form will suffice) and should be delicately poured into Lucy’s new porcelain water bowl inside her brand new, five-star, roomy bovine suite.

Biweekly massages are a must, as Lucy experiences a lot of work-related stress and discomfort. She is also interested in getting the occasional manicure and polish for her four perfectly shaped hooves. Also, Lucy is not opposed to wearing jewelry, flowers, tiaras or beaded crowns. If it Elsie over at Borden gets to wear one, so should Lucy. She also enjoys the soothing comforts of live classical music. I hear Melissa has a contact over at the Dallas Symphony. Maybe something can be arranged? I hope so. For Lucy’s sake.

I will be out to visit Lucy again very soon. I trust all this will be in place by then.

Thank you,
Lucy’s Number One Fan


From: Tracy
Sent: Friday, February 22, 2008 2:32 PM
To: Deals
Cc: Melissa
Subject: RE: About Lucy...

To my dearest fan,

I apologize for the lateness of my reply, however when I got word of your lovely concern towards myself, I could not help but to respond to your concerns myself. It took a while to find someone willing to translate my words onto this strange electronic media however (something about needing ten fingers instead of two hooves).
While I whole heartedly agree with most of your points, I do wish to assure you that I am a cow of the people. I was born a humble Southern calf, and I will die a humble Southern heifer. As a dedicated living history professional I understand that there are sacrifices to be laid at the altar of authenticity. My adoring public expect certain things when visiting a facility such as ours and while I am deeply disturbed by my accommodations I do my very best every day to make the very best of these circumstances, I am a professional after all.
I would like to take the time to clear up one thing from your generally lovely letter, that being your characterizations of Nip and Tuck. These noble and, quite honestly, handsome devils are actually quite lovely gentlemen. I would never attempt to alienate their affections by characterizing them as “jackasses”. I do believe that my proper place is with them as opposed to being housed with much smaller animals, but I do believe the pejorative is unnecessary.
I would like to assure you that I am working on convincing Tracy’s roommate to create proper garments for myself while the public is not at the museum. She has agreed to make an appropriate haute couture outfit just as soon as she possibly can fit it into her schedule. I have included a picture of myself, showing that in the meantime, I must make the plaid work. The boots are nice, and the hat is a joy! Thank you for looking out for me!
Yours ever more;


From: Deals
Sent: Friday, February 22, 2008 4:30 PM
To: Tracy
Cc: Melissa
Subject: RE: About Lucy...

Dear “Not Lucy” –

Don’t try to pretend any longer. I know you are not Lucy the Cow. My guess is that you are either Nip or Tuck (or a member of their pseudo-religious donkey cult). You gave yourself away when you described Nip and Tuck so favorably. Miss Lucy has made her opinion of the donkeys more than obvious (on multiple occasions) and would never describe either one of them as “noble” or “gentlemen” (much less “handsome”. Ew.).

As for the pejorative you deem so unnecessary. I do believe the term “jackass” is appropriate in the context of describing two male (jack) donkeys (asses). It isn’t MY fault the donkey is a member of the E. Asinus species. Whereas the noble cow is a member of the B. Taurus species - just like the astrological sign in the sky. Even the Greek God Zeus took bull form in order to win sweet Europa. You don’t hear such magnificent tales being told about the common ass now, do you? And, no. “Donkey” on Shrek does not count.

So, be gone with yourself, evil email Lucy imposter!

I’ve included one of my favorite images of Miss Lucy on our recent trip to the Swiss Alps. Please make she my lady gets a framed copy.

Thank you,
Lucy’s Number One Fan


From: Melissa
Sent: Tuesday, March 11, 2008 11:39 AM
To: Deals
Subject: for your wallpaper

Thought you might need this as computer wallpaper. . .


From: Deals
Sent: Tuesday, March 11, 2008 11:39 AM
To: Melissa
Subject: RE: for your wallpaper

That is SO NOT a flattering picture of my lady!


(Stay tuned. I'm sure this saga will continue...)

Monday, March 10, 2008


Dolly is (temporarily) staying with me while Amy is on a ski vacation for spring break.

As you may recall, Miss Dolly used to live with me (way, way, WAY back in the “pre-Haskell” days), but moved back in with her “mom” once Amy decided to transfer to SMU and get her own apartment. That was almost two years ago.

Now, Dolly is going on fourteen years old and has gotten somewhat “demanding” in her old age. She literately sits in the kitchen (underneath the counter which houses the dog treats no less) and waits. Each and every time I walk into the kitchen she’s there, wiggling and/or drooling with anticipation. Sometimes she even barks at me. And once she starts, there is no shutting her up (at least not until a cookie has been surrendered).

The problem is that Dolly is…well, plump. She doesn’t need to eat anymore biscuits. She's about three treats away from needing a wheel to hold up her midsection. But, obviously, Dolly doesn’t agree. This is a problem – mainly because I don’t like being barked at.

To give you a better idea of what I am talking about, I offer the following Bud Light commercial:

Yes, it really is like that (she’s not actually saying “sausage” but you get the general idea). I need help. Any suggestions?

Thursday, March 06, 2008

Corpus Christi is weird...

Below is the post that currently appears on Melissa's livejournal:
The Neverending Lunch

---Written with Deals---

So, we're in Corpus at the annual state history convention. Today was a very rainy, ugly day (which included a tornado!) so we decided to eat in the hotel restaurant. Which we had also done yesterday--and it's not the best food or the cheapest, but it was convenient.

Today we each ordered a salad with chicken. And we began to wait. About 10 minutes after we orded, another set of people sat next to us. We waited. They got their food. We waited. Our waitress had vanished. They began to eat. It smelled really good and our tummies began to rumble (we hadn't eaten a "real" breakfast). We waited. Thirty minutes pass. The waitress appeared and said that it took a while to cook the last piece of chicken. This seemed odd to us, as we had already been sitting there about 45 minutes. Dressing for my salad was delivered. Deals asked for bread. Time went by. I noticed a clump of staff members gathered around a computer, pointing at us. Decided this was not a good sign. Another staff member came by to check on us. Deals begged for bread. Ten minutes later (as Deals got up to go to the bathroom), the woman appeared with bread. Deals saw this and decided that maybe peeing could wait--hunger was a more pressing issue. After finally delivering the bread, we were asked by several people if we would like comped dessert (umm, lunch first would be good), salad from the salad bar (umm, we ordered salad) or a fruit cup. After 40 minutes of being pretty much ignored, a parade of customer service professionals marched past our table, asking questions. All we really wanted was what we had ordered. Deals looked amazingly sad and pathetic during this point of the experience.

We finished a piece of bread. More people came by to check on us and apologize. We continued to wait. We began to wonder what had actually happened to our poor innocent salads. Again--just salads with a chicken breast. Deals got up again to go to the bathroom because she realized the food was never going to come and she was about to explode. While she was gone, the food, in fact came. Before she returned to the table, a manager type came to apologize and told me the meal was comped and asked for my room number. This same conversation happened twice more with two different people. At one point, someone said "I can't even begin to tell you what happened to your food." This seemed odd.

We ate our salads, almost continually being interupted by people wondering how we were doing, if they could get us anything else, another salad perhaps. Lunch took an hour and a half. We chalked it up as a puzzling experience.

Tonight, we went out to dinner (we plan to avoid eating at the hotel again, since it just takes too much time and we starve to death while waiting). When we got home, there was a wicker tray with a fruit and cheese plate and two bottles of Evian. Wine would have been better (except not for Deals, since she's given up everything good for Lent and is no fun right now).

There was also a note, written by the woman who claimed she couldn't begin to tell us what had happened. Transcribed for your pleasure:

Dear Ms. P and Roommate,
Please allow me to apologize for the problems you had while dining with us today in the Glass Pavilion for lunch. Thank you for your patience, I hope that you will come dine with us again in the future. If there is anything I can do to make the rest of your stay more enjoyable please do not hesitate to contact me personally.

Deals is thinking about asking for a massage. It's like a situation that just keeps going on, even though Deals and I were fine once we got our food. Deals' theory is that they're worried that we'll spread this rumor among the conference--instead, we're sharing it with you.

But as to what happened to our lunch--what couldn't even be told to us, any theories? Seriously, it all just boggles the mind.

But at least we have breakfast for tomorrow!

Tuesday, March 04, 2008

Making mention...

An update on nothing very important:

  1. Somehow I was chosen to be an alternate delegate at the caucus tonight. I wish I could tell you how I accomplished this, but I honestly have no idea. I didn’t volunteer or anything of that nature. The only thing I can think of is that my across-the-street neighbor nominated me when I wasn’t paying attention (it was going on 10 PM and I was getting pretty sleepy). Normally this would excite me (I love me some politics), but the Dallas convention I have to attend later on this month is on a Saturday morning. Early. Ug.

  2. I knew that normal body temperature was 37 degrees in Celsius for Pub Quiz last week. So far, this is the only good thing that has come out of almost dying in Greece back in the year 2000.

  3. I’m leaving at the a$$ crack of dawn tomorrow for a state history conference in Corpus Christi. Trevor wants me to bring him back a sea shell.


On the Texas Primary...

One of my father’s girlfriends (yes, “girlfriends”. He has several) decided to vote early in the Democratic Primary. When my dad asked who she had voted for, she promptly replied with: “John Edwards”.

My Dad: “Really? Why?”

Girlfriend: “Because I like him better than the other people who are running.”

My Dad: “But he dropped out of the race.”

Girlfriend: “When?!”

My Dad: “Over a month ago. After Super Tuesday.”

Girlfriend: “So why was his name still on the ballot?”

My Dad: “Because they probably printed the ballots before Super Tuesday.”

I mean, really: did she not notice that Edwards had all but dropped off the radar since January? Or that ALL the recent political debates have been between Clinton and Obama? Because, wow. That's impressive.

In other news, Trevor giggles like a little school girl every time someone mentions the word “Caucus”. Seriously. Here’s a conversation from last night:

Melissa: “I’m interested in the caucus.”

Trevor: [giggling…]

Me: “Yeah, me, too. I’m excited about going tomorrow.”

Trevor: [more giggling…]

Me: “What's so funny?”

Trevor: “[wiping tears of laughter from eyes…] Sorry. I’m having a Beavis and Butthead kind of moment.”

Me: “What?”

Trevor: “It’s just [giggle] she’s ‘interested’ in it and [giggle] you’re ‘excited’ about it and...I’m sorry...[giggle, giggle, giggle] it's just funny, that's all [wipes another tear from his eye].”

Me: “You mean the word ‘caucus’? Because you find it funny when you break it down into the words, ‘cock’ and ‘a$$’, right?”

Trevor: [more hysterical man-giggling…]

Me: “[shaking head] Sigh…”

Yep, it’s official. I date a five year old.

Monday, March 03, 2008

It’s official. I’m losing my mind…

I’m a season ticket holder for a local youth orchestra. They only have three or four concerts a year, and I always look forward to going to them. I even purchase tickets in the loge section of the music hall. They are a little more expensive, but since all money goes to support the orchestra, I’m fine with shelling out a little extra dough every year. Plus, Trevor likes the sitting in the loge at the Meyerson because the seats are upstairs in boxes, which (in his mind) is comparable with having “box seats” for a sporting event. Whatever gets the boy excited about going to an orchestra concert, right?

Anyway, the first concert of 2008 was last night (March 2nd), but I didn’t go because – for some reason – I’ve spent the past couple of days utterly convinced it was still February.

In other words: I forgot.

It just doesn’t feel like March somehow, which is ridiculous because logically I know it IS March. I knew it yesterday, I know I did. Yet, for some reason me knowing it was March 2nd and realizing it was (really) March 2nd were two completely different things.

In fact, my (stupid) brain kept thinking it wasn’t March 2nd until NEXT weekend. My brain lied to me, people! Or rather, confused me. Because (again) I knew March started on Saturday. I really did. There was just a disconnect somewhere between what I thought and what I knew (does THAT even make sense?). Grrrrrrr…

Obviously, my brain and I are now in a fight.

So. Mad.