Time Flies...

...when you're procrastinating.

I was supposed to clean the house today in preparation for Auntie Kate's arrival on Tuesday, but instead? I spent it researching (with Theo) the accusations implicit in yet another election-related, out-of-context audio clip e-mailed to me by a friend. The entire afternoon, we did this. I call it a homeschool crash course in critical thinking and analysis of sources. I also call it a great way to neglect my younger children and fall even further behind on laundry.

One more week, right? I really hope Auntie Kate doesn't want to talk politics.

I'm relieved to hear that I am not the only one leery of messing with gas appliances. I swear, your comments make me feel almost normal. Or, at least, less lonely...

Almost midnight - more tomorrow, after I indulge in a desperate housecleaning frenzy...

My Mind's A Blank

[For those of you wandering over from Alice's Wonderland, the post concerning grown children and eating habits is right here.]


Okay, Feisty Irish Wench has handily convinced me to go to the doctor. How? By lobbing the word "gangrene" at my hypochondriac-al self yesterday in the comments. Yup, she regaled me with tales about her father's gangrenous gall bladder, which got that way because he refused to go to the doctor about his gall stones. I get the message, okay? I'm calling tomorrow for an appointment.

But I hope to goodness she was making all that up.

Oh, and many thanks to Julianne, who sent me this handy-dandy website about recycled elephant poop. Who knew? Next time someone gifts me with some pretty stationery made completely of recycled materials, I'll just have to wonder. I let Larry know about the recycled-dung products featured on the site and he exclaimed, "No sh*t!"

I guess I was asking for that.

Home Remedies (Geopolitical and Otherwise)

Today at the commissary I bought "recycled" tissues. Now I'm wondering what that means exactly. It sounds sort of gross, doesn't it?

Daisy felt that my spoof of Governor Palin using mom tactics to settle the Israeli-Palestinian conflict was "...denigrating the Israeli homeland." I take issue with that. I was denigrating the Israelis; I was also denigrating the Palestinians. But I wasn't denigrating the Land of Israel and its Occupied Territories. Which happens to be the homeland not only for Jews but also for numerous Palestinians who stubbornly refuse to just go away. What's wrong with those people, anyway? Can't they take a hint?

[Warning: geopolitical discussion ahead - feel free to skip to the asterisks.]

I agree with Thomas Friedman's line of reasoning on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict: the Israelis have avoided deciding on a real solution to the problem for over 40 years now, and they are paying the price. You see, in 1967 they had 3 choices:

1. They could have kept Israel a democracy by granting all the Palestinians in the Territories equal rights and citizenship in the state, but then Israel would no longer have been a Jewish state.
   
2. Or, they could have kept Israel a Jewish state and a democracy by not holding onto the Territories.
   
3. Or, they could have kept the Territories and kept a Jewish state by not granting full citizenship rights to all those Palestinians. But that wouldn't be a true democracy, now would it? It would be what Jimmy Carter dared to call it: apartheid.

The Israeli government never made a real choice, as any of the solutions would have been politically unpopular with a large segment of the population; but it has slid towards number 3 up there. Anyone who wants a (much) better picture of the situation is invited to read Thomas Friedman's From Beirut to Jerusalem - it's a fun read, too, all about his adventures in Lebanon during its civil war.

So, Daisy, I'm going on like this to show you that I understand the gravity of the situation over there. But people (well, people like me, anyway) make jokes out of things that are just too upsetting to think about otherwise (library fines, for instance). Call that post wishful thinking on my part, okay? You wanna know my other solution to the Jerusalem issue? We should give the whole city to Disney. Imagine the fun biblically-themed rides and attractions! Because, really, I'm sick of the fighting.

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Now, where was I? Oh, yes, recycled Kleenex. What's up with that, anyway? Next thing you know, they'll be recycling dog poop.

Larry is concerned about me because I'm drinking a quarter cup of lemon juice/olive oil twice a day in an attempt to get rid of gall stones. Every time he sees me downing my "cocktail," he starts muttering something along the lines of "We do have health insurance, you know."

Yeah, I know we do. But I have this irrational fear of being cut open, so I am going to persevere. And, hey, this whole gall stone experience is great for weight loss. I can't eat anything fatty without getting sick. Is that a perfect disease, or what?

[Sue, stop googling "gall stones." You don't have them. It's a disease for us old ladies in our 40's.]

I dragged Larry out on a date last night (he was tired, but I figure we'll get enough rest when we're dead, right?). We went to a local bookstore and looked up college costs and said, "Wow! That sucks!" As we headed back outside to the car, I pointed out the moon, which was a weird orange color. Larry said, "And it looks as though it were sliced in half!"

Um, yeah. Half moons look like that. Really, I don't think he gets out enough, do you?

Blog Post Titles - Out of Stock

Lately my husband and I have a Tuesday lunch date. I meet him at a grocery store near his work and buy 2 sub sandwiches and we sit and eat and chat. (Anna or Theo babysits.) I know, too cute for words. But really, it's a way better idea than what we had been doing: trying to go out for an evening date after everyone was bathed and fed and tucked in. By that point we were so tired we would just sit and stare at each other and try not to yawn. Forget conversation, it was all I could do to keep my eyes open.

So, Larry and I have been meeting at lunch. Last week, being true to my frugal self, I ran into a different store (closer to my house) to pick up subs, because every Tuesday they have a special: any sub sandwich - $2.50. Not only could I manage to meet my husband while we are still awake enough to chat, but we also could have lunch for under 7 dollars (we split a soda and a bag of chips) (I know, some of you are definitely gagging from the cuteness by now).

Where was I? Oh, so I ran into this other store and walked up to the deli sandwich counter. There were 2 women being waited on and I was next. Cool! I wouldn't be late to meet my hubby. The deli worker gave me my sandwiches, and when I turned around to leave I noted that there was a line gazillion people long behind me. Whew! I thought. Good thing I got here right before the lunch rush began. I guess I'm not the only cheap-o in town.

Yes, I did think that. And, when I met my husband, I boasted how lucky I was to beat the crowds.

Okay. So, this past Tuesday, I made sure to get to the store by 11:30 again. As I approached the deli counter I realized I hadn't beat the rush this time. Oh, well. So I got in line. And while I was standing there I realized the awful truth. Last week? When I walked straight up to the counter? There was a line then, too. But I didn't notice it. And I guess everyone was too surprised by my apparent chutzpah to say anything to me like, "Hey! Wait your turn, you pushy broad!"

What kills me is that, really, the same trick should work again. But, now that I know I'm cheating, I don't have the guts to try it.

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The birthday? That went well. I made a cake and David insisted on decorating it himself. I knew there was a reason I like him so much. He decorated it with an icing rocket, and positioned red and yellow candles at the tail end to look like flames. Sort of. We gave him some presents - m&m's from Brian, and gummy bears from Rachel, and a Hershey bar from Susie (my kids have a thing about candy, I guess). A couple of SuperSoaker water guns from Theo and Anna (under duress), and a thing that makes shaved ice for snowcones when you turn the handle (well, you have to put ice in it first).

We're sort of boring here, I guess. Also, cheap.

We took David out for pizza for dinner; Larry called to say that he was running late, so the kids and I should just meet him at the restaurant at 6:45. Oh, yeah, riiight... Being that I am emotionally scarred by what happened last time he promised to meet us for pizza, I made sure to arrive more than 15 minutes late. And Larry arrived 15 minutes after that. So I didn't let him have any of my soda. Hey, I'm not a doormat. These boots are made for walking, you know...

And now that I've looked up this video, I just have to share it with you. Check out those backup dancers.