Everything old is new again

Sorry I'm so quiet lately.

There is so much going on right now, in all aspects of my life, that I'm really struggling to make sense of it and struggling even more to find time to write about it.

So until those two things work themselves out, I will share an anecdote that illustrates how much my life has come full-circle.

I am now actually gaining new knowledge from my second-grader's reading assignments.

Last night, I learned that the first recognized dinosaur fossil was discovered in 1822. This surprised me greatly. For some reason, I thought that particular scientific timeline went back a good deal farther. (Edit: for the record, Plott was digging up bones in the 1600s, but ascribed them to 12'-tall people. Or man-eating Pliocene Clams)

Tomorrow, we're going to learn about the building of the Statue of Liberty. I can't wait. :)

You have mail...

Hey! just wanted to let you know that each of you has a customized Happy Birthday message in your In Box, on the date of your last birthday, courtesy of GMail. Gawd I love technology!

;)

Random Thoughts

I made my first Angel Food Cake from scratch today. So much fun! But word to the wise -- invest in a real live Angel Food Cake Pan, with the removable bottom. Because the festive cut-out Bundt pan I used was a recipe for Trifle. Yummy, though.

I am so fracking sick of snow I could scream. For hours.

Can someone PLEASE tell me why people waste valuable life force on bitterness???

Tie-dyed Easter eggs rock the shizamm!!

Some day, I'd like to have a dinner party catered by Michael Ruhlman.

Got three more hits on "bifurcated uvula" today! I swear, I'm going to put out a general call for comments from lurkers who hit on that term, just to see if they're all med students or something... ;)

Have a blessed and most happy Easter, my friends.

Why I love my seven-year-old

1) This evening, she composed an operetta for Go Dog, Go! and sang it to me before bed. I particularly enjoyed the soaring passage as the dogs ascended the tree at the end to join the dog party.

Will they work there?
Will they play there?
What is up there on top of that tree?
A dog party!
A big dog party!

And finally, the triumphant acceptance of the hat, after so many rejections.

I laughed. I cried. I wanted to engage a string section.


2) Her description, in detail and with appropriate dance moves, of three of her male classmates emerging from the bathroom break wearing their t-shirts cascading of the back of their heads (like hair) singing "I'm just a Barbie girl...in a Barbie world..."


3) Today, she insisted on showing me her diary. It's possible that, when she is 17, she will crucify me for betraying a confidence, but the January 19th entry reads:

Dear Diary,

I think I have a crush on Zachary. He knows more about Pokemon than ANYbody I know. He says I'm funny. He told me I have to figure out how to beat the seventh gym leader on my own, but then he came back at recess and told me how. I think that means he likes me.

A word to the wise, Bug: A man who enjoys your sense of humor and will help you achieve your goals is a keeper.

Huh?

Conversations between my daughter and her best friend, while playing Nintendo DS -- Super Mario Brothers, I think.

7-year-old: Mary Ann! That was my mushroom! You took my mushroom! That's IT, Mary Ann! You are no longer my brother!

8-year-old: Louise, you are a sad, sad bucket of fries.

-----

8-year-old: I like this level. The music is really peppy.

7-year-old: Yeah, it's too bad you have to die such a horrible way with such nice music.

Yankin' the Google...and my amazing incompetence.

So Blogpatrol says the #1 search term that brings people to this blog is


wait. for. it.



"bifurcated uvula"

That cracks me up to no end. As a result, I shall endeavour to use the words "bifurcated uvula" at least once in every post from now on. I will own this search term forevermore

I have no life, as you can plainly see.


In other news: Oh, don't you wish you'd had a movie camera at my house today???

Why? you may ask. Because today, for an hour, I entertained my neighbors with my hilarious antics trying, for the first time, to drive a tractor and operate a front-end loader. Yep. Nothing thrills the crowds like dropping the bucket down too far, and lifting the drive train clear off the ground.

All this with a seven-year-old kibitzing, with helpful comments like, "Mom! You missed the snow with that run!"

See, my dear hubby decided to cap off Saturday night by trying to clear the 21+ inches of snow from the driveway. As he backed the tractor out into the driveway, and immediately after he pulled behind BOTH cars, the old John Deere stalled. Frozen fuel lines. Joy. He decided to pop the transmission into neutral and push it out of the way. Enter the layer of ice under the snow. His left leg slipped and his MCL decided to liberate itself from its insertion point.

Did I mention the cars were trapped by the tractor in the driveway?

Had to call 911 to take him to the hospital, where they put him in an immobilizer and gave him a set of crutches. He promptly left town for a 10-day internship at the State House.

So here I was, with 52 inches of snow blocking my driveway, courtesy of the county road crew. I swear, they imported snow from the next street over to get the mound that high. Spent two hours shoveling that out yesterday, so I could drive my car through the yard (yep, I'm now glad I bought that SUV!) and get to work today.

This afternoon, however, the temperature warmed up sufficiently to start the recalcitrant tractor.

Did I mention I've never driven a tractor before? In my life? Until today.

OK, it wasn't pretty. In fact, I was the very picture of Lucille-Ball-in-the-candy-factory incompetence. But I have 145 feet of clean driveway out there now.

I am woman. Hear me roar.


Oh, and "bifurcated uvula"

Barista Blues

Can't get your double shot nonfat hornswaggle latte today?

It seems that the Starbucks Baristas are suffering from a bout of espresso ennui.

Let's all look forward to having a perkier grande mocha tomorrow, m'kay?

Memes and Beer

I don't know why I said "Beer", except that I think I could use one right now.

Well, the grant is done. It's not my most brilliant work, but it doesn't suck. Really, I think the make or break on this one will be whether or not I get the last one. Ironic, no? It's up there with the bank not lending you money unless you don't need it.

The good news is that I have a very good plan B right now, so I'm just sort of waiting it out to see what unfolds.

Anyway, our dear Rebecca has tagged me to meme about "seven random things about me". I've given a lot of thought to this in hopes of finding stuff you can't glean from my resume, so here we go:

1) I fractured my neck when I was 12 year old. We were on vacation at a state park in February in this giant snowstorm and I was swimming with my sister in the pool at the lodge. I was on the junior rec swim team at the time and felt perhaps a little too confident in my skills. I tried to do a back 1 1/2 off the 1 meter platform and cracked my head on the concrete on my way around. Yeah, it was a "Greg Louganis". Anyway, in the midst of all that compression I put a little crack in one of the bones in my neck. I spent about 6 months in a series of braces. It was not a way to be popular in 7th Grade.

2) My sister saved my life in the aforementioned accident. She was 10 years old and still in the "little squirt" stage of her development. I was 5'6" tall and probably 120 pounds. And she dead-hauled me out of the water. Pulled just about every muscle in her body doing it, too, or so my mother tells me. She was tough, even then.

3) Paul Newman once cooked me a hot dog. I was eight years old, and my dad was on an SCCA pit crew for Don Godovan. Apparently, this was when Paul Newman was messing around on that part of the racing circuit and he asked my dad for some help with his car. I was hungry and started bugging my dad for something to eat. Dad was irritated with the interruption ("where the hell is your mother?"), but Mr. Newman offered to take me over to his tent and get me a hot dog. I had no idea who he was until later.

4) I was once almost killed by a giraffe. No; I'm not making this up. I was helping a friend in the herbivore and carnivore building at the Columbus Zoo in 1987 and we walked into the giraffe pen. The big male decided he didn't like me and tried to crush me against the wall with his head. Giraffes have really big heads.

5) I have a heart-shaped (bifurcated) uvula. It's not as bifurcated as the picture on the left. That's also not me. You can tell from the moustache. Strangely enough, when you google "bifurated uvula" you don't get a lot of images to choose from...

6) I've never seen the movie E.T. Not sure why; the opportunity just never presented itself in a compelling way.

7) My family doesn't know this, but when they open a new bag of chips, I sneak in later and take out all the folded over ones. Because those are the only ones I like. When I'm with friends, I have to remind myself not to pick the foldy ones out of the bowl.

So there you have it.

I'm supposed to tag seven people on this; not sure I know seven who haven't been tagged yet, but let's try

Mkae
Tardparty
Puggimer
BluEyes
Ptooey
Alison
Allan

Let's see what we get. ;) Do this at your leisure. Or elect not to meme. No pressure.

Now; about that beer...

God's Own Cheese

I had to make a late run to the grocery store tonight -- the cat was out of food and I figured it was better to blow 30 minutes of potential sleep time now than to face an entire night of yowling.

As I exited the grocery store, I noticed a packge of Kraft Cheese on the hood of my car. Just sitting there. Fully wrapped. There was no one else around, so I figured it was my destiny to take home the cheese.

My husband noticed the cheese as I unpacked the grocery bag.

Him: Why'dya buy cheese? We just bought cheese.

Me: I didn't buy it.

Him: You stole cheese?

Me: No; God left me this cheese. It was on my car in the parking lot.

Him: Well, you're not going to EAT it, are you?

Me: Why shouldn't I?

Him: Because...well, I don't know! Maybe it's poisoned or something!

Me: You are a very weird man. Why would God leave me poisoned cheese?

Him: Why would ANYone leave cheese on your car? Unless, of course, they were trying to get you to eat the poisoned cheese!

Martin Luther King's I Have a Dream speech is playing the background.

Hubby comments: What an amazing speaker. Really, I think it was a loss to the nation.

Me: You know, I hear he wasn't shot.

Him: Really? So how did he die then?

Me: I hear he got some bad cheese.

Him: I hate you.

What, exactly, is going on inside that little head?

My daughter last night, apropos of nothing, turns to me while brushing her teeth and says:

"You know, if you're looking in the mirror, you pretty much can't be attacked by ninjas."

she then stops, walks behind me, and starts to tickle me, and says,

"Unless the ninja is WAY smaller than you!"

She goes back to brushing her teeth and absently begins to hum the Enzyte jingle again (I wonder if the people who wrote that thing know that it's addictive to children?).

She's thoughtful for a minute and then says,

"I wonder if Smilin' Bob ever has trouble with ninjas. He's pretty weird."

What I want for Christmas

Scientists in South Korea have apparently cloned a transgenic cat that glows in the dark.

I'm totally getting one.

Because the only thing more festive than being awakened at 5:00 am by a hungry cat is being awakened at 5:00 am by a hungry cat that that looks like a UFO with a nose.

Beanie's Farding Butterfly Effect Theorem

"The act of applying lip gloss, lipstick or Vaseline to one's lips will immediately result in a localized gust of wind that will blow one's hair into the recently-applied maquillage.

This effect is magnified according to the color depth of the lip product applied."

Beanie's Axiom of Contrived Sleeplessness

"The probability that a child, under the age of 10, will have a screaming nightmare at 3 am is inversely proportional to the total number of sleeping hours available to the child's parents on a given night."

*yawn*


Maxine's Oratory Corrollary:

"The number of minutes it will take to soothe a screaming child back to sleep at 3 am is equal to the remaining number of minutes in the anticipated sleeping period, divided by one-half the number of minutes one is expected to devote to public speaking the next day."

So....

Ha! Someone who shall remain nameless just pointed out to me that I begin nearly all my paragraphs with the word "So".

Heh.

I thought about going back and changing my earlier posts, but then decided against it. Instead, I'm looking ahead and seeing how long I can go without starting a sentence with the forbidden "S" word.

I'm counting on my small but loyal cadre of readers to call me on it if I fail. If I start a sentence with "So" and you're first to spot it, I'll send you a prize from Beanie's Secret Cache of Wonders.

Oh, and don't you just wonder what's in there? I know I do!

Wow, and just so you know; I really *do* have better things to do than this -- but I'm obviously not doing them.

Good Gravy! How did I miss THIS???

Last week's Horoscope from The Onion:

Aries You'll waste years of your life and your entire life savings on the mistaken assumption that people don't mind driving a few miles out of their way for a really top-notch handjob.


I take issue with this. I still believe they will.

I'll bet it was those pesky Ecuadorans

I went to place a cell phone call today while driving and found that the back of my phone was covered in melted chocolate.

I have no idea where it came from.

But the guy at the stop light next to me was pretty freaked out when he looked over and I was licking my cell phone while waiting for the light to change.

Why it's occasionally a good thing to listen to commercial radio

So I just got back from several days in Toronto, which was fine, for all that I saw nothing but the insides of a 'European Style' hotel (read: the rooms are très petites) and a sterile convention center. But that's OK. I needed to be brainless for a few days.

I made the decision to drive up and back, a five-hour trip each way. Really, though, by the time I dealt with a flight, with international check-in and customs and whatnot each way, I probably only burned a hour in each direction by driving. And the cost was about 20% of the flight. So it was all good.

And I got to listen to one of my favorite commercial radio stations: 91.7 fm out of Niagara. Which I can pick up in Pennsylvania and listen to all the way to Toronto.

Hey, I'm not saying I'd make a steady diet of it or anything, but it's good to know what's out there occasionally.

Anyway, I got to hear music that I don't normally hear, including two songs that just cracked me up.

The first was Before He Cheats, by Carrie Underwood. Which was released in the US, but was wildly popular in Canadia.

Check out this snippet

right now, she's probably up singing
some white-trash version of Shania karaoke.
right now, she's probably saying "I'm drunk"
and he's thinking that he's gonna lucky,
right now, he's probably dabbing on
3 dollars worth of that bathroom polo.
and he don't know...

That I dug my key into the side
of his pretty little suped up 4 wheel drive,
carved my name into his leather seat...
I took a Louisville Slugger to both head lights,
slashed a hole in all 4 tires...
maybe next time he'll think before he cheats.

followed closely behind by Amanda Marshall, a Canadian artist

I was dancing with Jake
When I last saw my keys
That was my first mistake
'Cause what happened to me?

(oh..)I look down at my arm, baby
And something's lookin' back at me
And I cannot believe it

Oh my god!
I woke up with a snake tattoo
Oh my god!
And I think that my tongue's pierced too
Oh my god! Oh my god!
It's the Sunday morning after, and baby who the hell are you?(Ahh....woohoo!)

So my thought is that the Canadians A) Have a better sense of humor than Americans and B) Hold dear women who aren't afraid to grab a little gusto.

I like that.