The Texture Of Things

Highschool Meme, Part 1

June 30th, 2007

Sorry it’s a two-parter. This theme doesn’t allow long posts, and I haven’t fixed it yet.

1 Who was your best friend?
I had two best friends, Stacy and Kim. In stereotypical girl form, at any given moment two of the three of us were fighting, putting the third friend in the middle. I can’t say it led to a lot of social stability for me.

2 What sports did you play?
Ha ha ha ha hahaha. Um. No.

On free choice days in gym class, my friends and I would ROCK the badminton court. I will say I was pretty good at that, but I only made the effort at it because it was safe. No one else wanted to play it but us, so there was never any real competition. Come to think of it, that is pretty much par for my entire high school course.

3 What kind of car did you drive?
Back in the day, Drivers Ed was offered through the school. I learned to drive in a powder blue 1989 Ford Escort hatchback. Ah, good times. My first car was a 1984 pavement gray Ford Mustang.

4 It’s Friday night, where were you?
Pre-car: Home, I guess, or at Kim’s or Stacy’s house. I don’t really remember. If I was home, though, I was on the phone with one of them.

Post-car: Anywhere my friends wanted to be. I was the only one with a car, so I was the taxi. And, as can be expected, I became quite popular with a lot of youngsters, and we spent considerable time at Detroit clubs known for serving underage kids. Hey. Don’t blame me. I didn’t drink since I was driving – at least, that was my story. The truth is I didn’t drink because I didn’t want to get busted drinking underage. Why were we there? Who knows. But the end result is that I was building the necessary social contacts so that I could grow up and marry a rock star. (see item 22.)

5 Were you a party animal?
Ha! Ha ha ha ha hahaha. Um. No.
But I did find the rock club party atmosphere intoxicating in its own right. I was smitten with the idea that a person could be so self-confident that they would play in a band, let alone play a show. To this day I get a little lightheaded, in that dizzy drunk way, when I watch a band I know and love play live. It’s like a contact buzz without the contact.

6 Were you considered a flirt?
I hardly think so, but there might have been times when I came across as flirtatious and didn’t know it or I meant to be and it didn’t work because I had no idea what in the holy hell I was doing.

7 Were you in band, orchestra, or choir?
Band. French Horn. All the way until my senior year. I quit because:
a) I sucked.
b) Do you know what the music department does to French Horn players during marching band season? We got stuck playing the Flugelhorn. If you think I sucked at French Horn, you should have heard me on the Flugelhorn.
c) C’mon. Do I need a third reason? Um, okay. To piss my mom off. She wanted me to stay in band because, I don’t know, maybe she thought four years of band would keep me from getting pregnant before I got married, or something. Also? It worked. Not the pregnancy prevention, okay well I guess that too, but the pissing-off. When she found out I quit, she went through. the. roof. Through It.

8 Were you a nerd?
For humanities and all sciences that were not Chemistry, yes; math, no.

9 Did you get suspended/expelled?
Nope, but I did do a stint in Summer School. That’s a story for another day.

10 Can you sing the fight song?
No, but I can tell you it was the same as the Notre*Dame fight song and for years after high school, I could sing the Flugelhorn part.

11 Who was your favorite teacher?
Mrs. Hall and Miss Rhode. Both English teachers, and both treated me like a human after my brother died, instead of how everyone else in that school did – like a firecracker that didn’t go off but should go off any second now it should go off but it hasn’t gone off.

12 School mascot?

13 Did you go to Prom?
Why, I certainly did. My junior year, I went with my boyfriend Rob, who was a senior. It is painfully obvious to me that he wanted to have sex with me, and because I was naive, I did not put it together until that night. I honestly thought Prom was just a dance. Too cute for words, huh?

Then, my senior year, I planned to go to Prom with my asshole boyfriend, Jim. He was an asshole. I knew he was not the ideal, Cinderella-Prince Charming Prom date, but he was my boyfriend and I did want to go to Prom, even if it was with an asshole. And he was an asshole.

I don’t remember how it happened now, but we got into a fight, I told him I wasn’t going to take him to my Prom, he said he didn’t want to go anyhow, and I guess we broke up. The next morning, I approached my friend, with whom I had planned to double-date and share a limo, and he suggested a replacement date. For the rest of this saga, please hold until item 22, which will appear in Part Two.

A Turn for the Weird

June 28th, 2007

It’s been a morning of regular things taking unexpected turns. Today, I had an appointment at my doctor’s office for 9:30 (first appointment slot is 9 a.m.), so I needed to get up a bit early to get ready, get the tot to day care, and get to the office. Because the appointment was just a blood draw to check my thyroid levels, I figured I’d be in and out and home, with piles of time to work on my class stuff.

I was wrong.

First, I went to bed last night and forgot to bring my phone, which doubles as my alarm clock, with me. Once I found myself in bed, I realized it but blew it off. Between a husband who needed to get up at 5:30 for work and a tot who has been waking up before 7 with nightmares every morning for the last who-knows-how-long, I thought I’d be fine.

I was wrong.

HG got up, I fell back asleep, the tot did not wake up until 8:30. Fortunately, I woke up at 8:08, which left me just barely enough time to get showered, pack her stuff, and get her to day care instead of having to take her with me to the doctor’s office.

But. Traffic was bad. Just one of those days when people think driving 5-10 under the speed limit is a good idea, and there’s no way to pass on a hilly, two-lane road.

That’s fine, I thought. I can make it, and I almost did. I was 2 minutes late and there was no one in the waiting room and I could hear the doctor chatting with the nurses behind the door. Cool. In and out.

Except not. An insurance salesman came in and wanted to talk to her (the only doctor there – it’s solely her practice) about a new policy for the some-such and whosits, and he was let in. A new patient who couldn’t find the place so she was 15 minutes late came in, and she was let in. Another patient who just wanted to pick up a scrip that, it turns out, wasn’t written yet, came in. She had to wait while I got let in.

Of course you know how the story goes. I sat in the exam room for another 50 minutes, waiting for the doctor, who saw me for under two minutes. (Weirder, when she wanted to listen to me breathe, she only listened to the left side. Um, WTF?) Then I waited another ten minutes for the nurse to come draw blood. Thank god she was good, because if I had left there with a giant wound, I’d have been too pissed to recover my day.

On the up-side, I listened to another patient cough in the next room like she was trying to dislodge a puppy from her lungs for about half the time I waited, and I could tell she wasn’t covering that cough. It was too loud and not muffled-enough sounding. Wait. That’s not the up-side. Oh! Right! The up-side is that I had NOT brought the tot with me, so maybe it’ll just be me laid up with Typhoid for the Fourth of July. We’ll have to wait and see.

Then, I went through a golden-archy drive-thru [sic] for some quick coffee. I thought I’d cruise in, grab joe, peel out and get home quickly so I could wash the TB off my hands. (The one day I didn’t have Pu*rell in my purse.)

I was wrong. I sat in the goddamned drive-thru [sic] for just under three months, smelling the aroma of warm toast waft through the parking lot.

Excuse me. Toast? TOAST?! What world did I wake up in? OMG, I just want to get home.

And then. And THEN, I got my coffee, drove home, opened it, expecting to have to blow on it for another two hours before I could drink it, and it wasn’t hot. It wasn’t even close to hot.

I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now. If I weren’t so caffeinated, I’d go back to bed and try to start this day over. I seriously would.

How’s your day going?

My To-Do List Runneth Over

June 26th, 2007

It’s not like I haven’t wanted to post – I have. I’ve just been swamped this last month.

In late May, I had my surgery and my birthday.

So far in June, I’ve had the tot’s birthday, the tot’s birthday party, every doctor’s appointment I can possibly schedule before school starts up next week (one for her, like 70 for me), revision of all my course documents from last semester (thanks, new book), finding and purchasing a climber for the tot to help her with gross motor skills, and the sundry daily crap tasks that build up. Plus gardening, trying to get the tot outside to play (easier with the acquisition of said climber), making the phone calls that need to be made so HG can move forward with the crap on our house To Do list, and trying to prepare for a vacation trip next month.

I’m just feeling thunked-out. My brain is summer mush, which could be good on the grill but is not great when you’re counting on it to perform higher functions.

Here is a short list of what I’d like to blog about shortly. Maybe if I commit to it here, I’ll move forward on that, too.

*Challenges of anonymous blogging
*The woodpecker in our garage
*The tot’s Infant-Toddler Development Assessment
*The Sensory testing I’m trying to get scheduled
*A hurtful thing someone said to me (not quite a mommy drive-by, but similar)
*The question: Which is more “natural”? Peeing or breastfeeding? (This is an obtuse tag, but it’ll become clear when I write more about it. For now, what do you want? A post or just more of me pondering posts and not actually updating the blog?)
*Surgery update
*Collection of Spectacles
*My dusty Thinking Blogger award

Okay, that is way more than I can accomplish any time soon. I’d better get to work.

A Vitamin a Day

June 15th, 2007

Vitamins and I have never really gotten along. When I was a kid, I coveted Bliff*stones chewables, probably because some neighborhood kid I knew had them, or something. I can remember being about 4 years old, sitting on the porch with a bottle of them my mom finally bought me. She was inside unloading groceries. I think my brother must have opened them for me, and I ate one. It was delicious! It was crunchy and tart and left this residue in my mouth that meant something serious. Medicine, perhaps.

Somehow, the idea of vitamins making one strong resurfaced in the conversation, and I declared that the vitamin I had eaten gave me so much energy that I could run around the cul de sac. My brother, and maybe my mom too, encouraged me. I ran and ran and ran. I returned to the porch, winded. I proposed that another vitamin might give me more energy. My mom said, “All right, but just one more. If you eat too many of them, you could get a tummy ache.”

Um, Mom? Seriously? A tummy ache? It could have been a lot worse, considering that all the responsible parties returned to the house to make dinner, leaving me outside unattended with a bottle of vitamins.

Now. What do you think 4-year-old me did? You bet your ass I continued eating vitamins. I’d eat one, run the cul de sac, return, rest, repeat. I think I made it about halfway through the bottle before it was time for dinner.

I did not get a tummy ache, or any other more severe (and deserved) illness. I do not recall ever eating another one, though, until I got pregnant with the tot.

My OB told me I had to keep taking my vitamins. She understood that the vitamin burps were killing me and that the vitamins seemed to worsen my all-day morning sickness, but I needed the supplements. She encouraged me to switch to Bliff*stones until I could tolerate the prenatal vitamins again, and I once again found myself looking at the bottom shelf in the vitamin aisle.

I stayed on Bliff*stones for a while after the tot was born. Regular vitamins just make me feel ill, but I have tried others. I have. And yet I find myself reaching for the comforting, aggressively orange label. Until recently, when I opened the bottle to find this:


What the..?



check the expiration date.

05/08. Wait. What’s today? Oh. 06/07. 05/08? What the hell is going on here? I know it’s medicine, it doesn’t need to look and smell like flowers, but what the holy hell is that in there?

a closer look…


Holy Jeebus, the smell hits. Blaaarrrgh. I think I’m done with these for a while.

Updated to add: I have yet to call the phone number on the packaging to tell them that their vitamins have hatched something (oxidized minerals, I’m guessing) before the expiration. I think I should do it, but I’d just rather throw them away. If I do call, I’ll let you all know what happens.

Cheese, please

June 15th, 2007

There are flukes and there are repeat behaviors. What began, I believe, as a fluke may in fact be a repeat behavior.

The tot ate K*raft parmesan cheese the other night, for the third or fourth time she has been presented with it.

I let her dump a pile on her plate with some other foods. (Don’t discount the presence of other foods. It took a loooooooooong time to get to the point she was okay if questionable textures got that close to her or her food.) I gave her a spoon. I mostly ignored her so I could talk to my lovely, charming, husband over our spaghetti. Or a show was on, I’m not sure, probably Scrubs. I looked over at the tot, and she had cheese on the spoon and was clumsily shoving it into her mouth. She had cheese all over her plate, the surrounding table, her shirt, the chair, the floor, and she didn’t much care about it.

I know. The mind boggles. What boggles the mind more is – parmesan cheese? What? This is insanity. It’s gritty, it has a strong flavor*, and it’s impossible to keep on the spoon. Then, when the spoon grew to be too slow a transfer device, she began pinching the cheese and sprinkling it into her mouth.

What happened to my daughter? And where is the alien pod? Because I’ve checked the basement and her closet, and it is not there.

*well, I know, not too much as it’s Kra*ft cheese from a canister, but still.

She has eaten this stuff before, but I really believed it to be a fluke. It was a small quantity, a few tastes, to begin with, so I will test this again. I’ll make spaghetti again in the next few days and see if there is a repeat performance. If there is, well, I guess it’s time to start thinking about bridge foods.

I haven’t had much chance to write, even though I have lots to say lately, so I toss this up here and try to write more later today, hopefully.

Good News/Bad News

June 7th, 2007

Good news:
It is a beautiful day. It’s a beautiful day for writing a blog post, seeing as how it’s 90 degrees and climbing outside and the tot is at daycare.

Bad news:
This is all the post you get, because…

Good news:
The battery in the handset of our office phone is, when fully charged, good for at least 173 minutes.

Bad news:
I learned this by being on it for 173 minutes with my mother-in-law, talking mostly about nothing when I had planned to be writing a blog post.

Good news:
I feel like writing again.

Bad news:
It has taken this many days following the surgery to get back to a writing place again. The surgery was such a frustrating experience, though in the end, there is no bad news yet. We’ll know more tomorrow – post-op appointment with doc tomorrow, then I’ll come tell a story about bruises.

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