Song du jour of the day: Clinton Got a Blow Job, by Eric Schwartz, with another h/t to my stepdad for forwarding me the link.
Monthly Archives: October 2008
I said he could play with the computer if he filled the woodbox first. He stood the logs up vertically so they would take up more space and make the box look full when it wasn’t. Cheaterpants.
Then at dinner, the Sniglet was refusing to eat his green beans, and I said “no dessert if you don’t,” and he said “one word, mama. Starts with an S, ends with a T” (he was thinking of “so what”). Ignatz piped up with, “Super green beans that I am going to eaT!”
I just can’t imagine why his teachers get so upset with him. I think he’s ace.
Song du jour of the day: Real Wild Child, by Iggy Pop.
Yep, my boy is 8 today. Yes, five days after my birthday – and yes, he was due on the 18th, so when I reached my 30th birthday and was still pregnant, I was not very happy. I’ve more or less forgiven him, though.
Song du jour of the day: La Vida es Limonada, by Marquess. One of his current favorites.
Hey, I went to Utrecht this week! And now it was like three whole days ago, so I can barely remember it. The University had an Event on Monday evening for new professors and their partners/spouses (spice?) on the 20th, and we both felt that it would be good for me to be there. So I packed my very spiffiest clothes, and we went shoe-shopping in Utrecht on Monday afternoon. I am the anti-Imelda: I have Doc Martens, Chuck Taylors, the cowboy wellies, and one pair of minimalist sandals, that’s all. DrBob felt that none of these were appropriate for an evening event (hmm, says my friend Amanda. Time to break out the sparkly flip-flops?). Continue reading
At least someone thinks it’s time for some accountability. Seriously, wasn’t that the rationale? The fatcats make the big bucks because they take the big risks? All righty, then.
Song du jour of the day: Shame On You, by Tomas Thordarson.
Thank you for the birthday wishes, report on the Utrecht trip to follow tomorrow, along with all the other things I didn’t manage to get done on this very aimless day. I’m not sure where I was in the day when I realized that this is the third anniversary of my mother’s death, and that I should probably just give up on getting anything done today.
Song du jour of the day: Just to See Her, by Smokey Robinson.
Actually, I can’t remember what the last thing I told you was, with regard to the move to Utrecht.
1. We were going to try to move before summer, did you get that? Because we figured if we put the kids into a new school mid-year, they’d be free to learn the language and figure out how to navigate their new setting, and the academic expectations would be low at first. Continue reading
Ignatz’s headbump looked a lot better this morning, the bruise was nearly invisible, and he said he felt fine. He has a very good record, our Ignatz – he never says he’s sick when he isn’t, and he does ask for help when he needs it, so I actually trust him on such matters. I asked if there was any reason to take him to the doctor and he said no, so I didn’t. Continue reading
So the thing that was getting me down in my last entry was the supportive-listening imbalance that is currently a feature of my marriage – that is, DrBob and I talk every day, and I hear about his classes and meetings, and then when it’s my turn to vent, he notices that he’s hungry and there’s soccer on TV and he has to go now (I swear he doesn’t know he’s doing it). And the injustice of it was rankling terribly, but then I got over it. Given time, I generally do. Continue reading
I swear I’ve been staring at this screen for an hour. Here’s the thing: I know my life’s pretty much sunshine and bunnies, and I don’t have any serious problems, but that makes for boring writing. Stories need conflict, and crappy situations make for better blogging – but only if you can make them funny.
So I’ve been stressed out lately, but it’s not that serious, and I can’t make it funny. I can’t vent to my husband, because he’ll take it too seriously and stress himself out trying to solve my problems when all I want is someone to listen. Don’t want to vent here, because y’all will (quite rightly) say “gyaaaah! ya want some cheese with that whine?” and take me off your blogrolls.
Song du jour of the day: Dancing With Myself, by Billy Idol.