God, I love Eurovision. I don’t think they qualified, but I sure wish they had. NSFW, btw.
Monthly Archives: February 2007
Jim? Is a genius. He really is. He always forces you to tell him something about yourself with his themes: what scares you, what lights your fire, what makes you want to boogie. So I tried to keep that in mind and give my theme some depth and personality. It was not easy. In fact, I didn’t even come up with one until he mailed me my match and I thought “Dang! Gotta get going on this!”
So. February has Valentine’s Day in it, and San José Day, so named because DrBob and I first saw eachother nearly 13 years ago in the airport at San José, Costa Rica, though we didn’t actually speak to eachother until the plane landed in Quito.
So this one’s all about love, in all its messy confusion. Not just the HEA – love can just as easily be twisted, or thwarted, or threatened. This is what love looks like to me, after 12 years of marriage and two kids. With a slight detour into my (pretty fucked-up, actually) early 20s. You’ll recognize it when you get there.
With a hat-tip to ~d for mentioning it all those weeks ago, and I hope she’s not mad at me for ganking her idea. Wait, not ganking. I was inspired!
Song du jour of the day: shhh! It’s a secret.
DrBob is sick twice (a cold plus some stomach bug), the kids are out of town (one at the Oompas, one with his godfather), and I have spent ALL DAY putting my mixmania cd together and um, making something else. That is going to be a surprise for someone. Who does not read my blog but knows someone else who does and therefore may stop by at any time, so hush hush, but I promise I will post pictures and instructions (since I’m inventing it as I go) as soon as I am at liberty to do so.
I did make one work-related phone call. I guess that’s enough usefulness for a Saturday.
Oh, I had a really great song du jour of the day, what was it? Argh. How about Between the Wars, by Billy Bragg: and I’ll give my consent to any government that does not deny a man a living wage.
Well, I am making a certain progress in my drive to become a tortured knitter (the second video). The smoking and drinking are not going very well – cigarette smoke makes the fiber smell, and I drop too many stitches when I knit drunk (who knew?). Continue reading
Right, well, I talked to my SIL today, and she gave me my brother’s number at the hospital, so I also talked to him for about half an hour. It sounds like things are as good as they can be, given the circumstances. All kinds of things that I didn’t even think of could have happened, but didn’t: no spinal damage, no internal organs ruptured, and a nurse happened to be outside, and heard him yell as he was falling, so he got help immediately. From a professional. They’ll operate on his shoulder on Monday, he’ll be in the hospital until next Wednesday at the earliest, once home he’ll have to truck around in a wheelchair for a few weeks, and a physical therapist will make daily housecalls. Continue reading
So the Client (I can call her that now, because she’s the only one I have) called on Friday and also emailed me more material for the site, and I was working all that day in Munich so I didn’t get back to her. Fair enough. Saturday I was just a lazy-butt, and was all, “I’ll call her as soon as I’ve got the ironing done.” “Wait, first I have to make chicken stock.” “Okay, after I’ve started the spaghetti sauce.” “Right, the minute this kitchen is clean, I will call her.” And then around teatime the Sniglet barfed and that was my evening all planned out. Continue reading
Worked all day Friday and had an argument with DrBob – not one of our “refreshing little discussions” a la Peabody and Emerson, more like trying to tapdance while ankle-deep in mud, yay. Saturday was sick-child day, with the throwing up, also yay.
So there’s really nothing to see here, sorry. Instead, I’ll point you to this, because I’ve been having a lot of fun with it.
I inherited my ESL class from Mrs Next Door. When she had her second son, she decided she’d rather use her one free evening a week for something else, so she asked me if I wanted to take over her class. She had four students, but one of them was newly pregnant, and never did show up to my class. Understandable; the class started at 8:30 p.m. When I was pregnant, I was out cold long before then. Continue reading
you would think the germans would be a little more on top of this education thing. they seem, i don’t know, more precise than that.
Yes, well, they are. In a sense. If your kid doesn’t show up at school, they send the police to your house, and we had a big scene a couple years ago when we extended his 2-week Christmas break so we could go to Seattle for three weeks. Well, Philadelphia for one (hi Kel!) and Seattle for two, but the point is, apparently kids must be in school every day that there is school, on pain of excommunication or something. We warned them beforehand, they said “no he may not go,” we said “um, whothehellareyou? Not his parents, that’s who.” And sick notes have to be signed by doctors, and all that sort of thing. This is one of the reasons we are so annoyed, because he HAS to show up, and the teachers don’t. Hypocrites, much? Continue reading