Life Stuff

Last week someone from my derby league demanded to know when I was going to blog again.

"I don't know," I snarked, "there has been this thing taking up all of my time. I THINK IT'S CALLED ROLLER DERBY."

Seriously, derby does take up a lot of time. 

But, mostly, I haven't blogged because I'm just not doing anything. I am weeding my garden. I am working industriously to build a patio out of the part of my yard that has been an unused dog run for 6 years. 

(By "working industriously", I mean "hiring the bobcat operator and picking out bricks".)

(I am also "working industriously" to re-finish my basement, and that "working industriously" means hiring the concrete contractor but also taking a week off of work to frame and drywall. Whee.)

I am going to 4-year-olds' birthday parties and playdates. I am playing in the sprinkler. I am going to meetings, going for runs, registering my child for kindergarten, hanging out with friends, making mojitos. I am doing things, I guess, but just Life Stuff. 

Regular old Contented Life Stuff. It's pretty boring unless you're me, and then it's pretty sweet.

 

 

Fail better

I am never promising to post every day in a month again. I just fail, every time. 

Failure is a theme this past week. I've failed at my diet. I failed at managing the ire of some clients. I failed to finish both derby practices last week, feeling faint halfway through the first and actually throwing up, halfway through the second.

"Maybe you're pregnant?" offer people who don't know the whole history of my uterus.

No...that part of me is also a failure, I want to tell them. But I don't. I say clever things like, "Uh...highly unlikely".

I blame the rain for all these grey feelings. It's been raining for a week straight, and although it is often miserably cold here in the baldass prairies, we actually get more sunshine hours than most other places. I like my big open sky and I like my sun. Vitamin D only remedies so much.

Rain, overwhelmingly, makes me want to curl up on the couch and opt out of life. I have no idea how I survived two years in Vancouver. 

Anyway, tomorrow the sun is supposed to return. So I'll consider today the end of feeling sorry for myself, and tomorrow the start of my more successful week. Failure just gives you the opportunity to learn, right?

Right?

 

(Hope all of my 'merican pals are enjoying their nice, long, sunny weekend.)

 

All, and nothing.

Clearly I am falling down on the job a little with this "posting every day in May" endeavour. Last night I had full intentions of blathering on about my day, but then my 4-year-old requested that I lie down with him, and that never ends well.

Well, it ends with me waking up at midnight, confused, cramped and cold on a crappy foam mattress, which we should really replace for him, especially if it continues to affect ME.

Anyway, you didn't miss much, is my point.

You can probably skip this one too, since I'm cramming it in to my lunch hour because tonight I have a daycare board meeting AND derby practice. Those two things don't go together at all, and I feel a bit like I'm spread across the universe when they land on the same day. 

(This Saturday there is a community festival where I am working two different booths, one for a nice charity for kids and the other for roller derby. I must remember to make sure I'm wearing the right outfit to each.)

(No wonder I'm always so scattered.)

I feel like in my 20s, everbody else was really dim because they didn't grasp concepts right away or remember what a client said about their project 6 weeks ago. Now that I'm sliding to the end of my 30s, I feel lucky that I can grasp concepts right away, and vaguely threatened that someone should expect me to remember what a client said about their project yesterday. Unless I wrote it down. Then I'm golden.

SO LOOKING FORWARD TO MY 40s.

This post is obviously about nothing at all, and everything all at once. 

 

 

If this is all I hate, I’m doing okay. Unfortunately it’s NOT all I hate, but it’s enough vitriol for today.

I hate GoDaddy. I hate their sexist advertising and their vaguely domineering name. I hate that they supported SOPA. I hate them.

Unfortunately, when I registered my first domain name, I didn’t know any better. Also, I’m lazy. So up until now I’ve had about 20 domain names registered with GoDaddy that I haven’t gotten around to transferring somewhere else.

Recently I had to purchase a few more, so I figured it was a good time to start anew. Transferring is super easy, the new registrar claimed. Just enter the domains you want to transfer and we’ll do all the work!

Ha.  Ha ha.

Okay, so, to transfer domains you need to have them ‘unlocked’, and you need to cancel any private registration (the add-on that makes it so people can’t see who registered a domain through WHOIS). I had 8 domains I wanted to transfer. GoDaddy told me I had to log in to Domains By Proxy in order to cancel their private registration.

However, only four of my domains were listed in DBP.

After browsing around and making absolutely certain that I didn’t miss anything in Domains by Proxy, I sent an email to GoDaddy support.

I got a confirmation email, telling me I could SAVE 15% WITH MY NEXT ORDER!

Shortly thereafter I got an actual reply.

Thanks for contacting Online Support.  It appears you were looking to review your account domain registrations.
Reply back with your four digit pin and we can review your account.

Underneath that it told me I could SAVE 15% WITH MY NEXT ORDER!

I wasn’t exactly looking to review my account domain registrations, but I replied with my pin anyway.

I got another confirmation email, telling me someone would be right with me and that I could SAVE 15% WITH MY NEXT ORDER!

Then I got another “actual” reply, which made me think that GoDaddy just employs bots and that nobody is actually reading the emails.

I understand that you are currently working on removing the privacy from your domains.  If you forget your login information, you can retrieve your customer number, retrieve your password hint, or reset your password on the DBP website.

Then it told me how to log in to the DBP website. Then it told me: You could SAVE 15% WITH YOUR NEXT ORDER!

OMFG YOU GUYS I DON’T WANT TO SAVE ANYTHING, I AM TRYING TO GET OUT OF THIS ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP.

After several more, increasingly generic email replies from them, they told me to contact support at Domains By Proxy. I thought it was almost certainly a GoDaddy issue, since they were the ones that had sold me private registration for those domains, and DBP had clearly never even received them in their database. But then I noticed that Domains By Proxy is owned by…wait for it…GoDaddy, so, SURE, I’ll contact these completely fictional OTHER SUPPORT PEOPLE.

I don’t have anything better to do with my time, right?

Domains By Proxy took a couple of days to get back to me, and then they asked me for a screenshot of my DBP account while I was logged in. Even though I’d given them the account ID, and I was emailing them from the email they have on record.

I logged in to do that and, oh, look! Mysteriously, in the couple of days while they were getting back to me, all my missing domains showed up in their list. Fancy that!

So, yeah. I hate GoDaddy. And, by proxy, Domains By Proxy.

(But, oooooh, look! I could save up to 25% now!!)

 

(I was going to rant about GoDaddy anyway, but conveniently, Gretchen's Spin Cycle this week is about HATE. Go, spin. And grab the pretty button because someone awesome made it for her.)

 

Second Blooming

Recent injuries

- A bruise the size of an apple and the color of an eggplant on my right ass cheek, where I fell in derby with my skate wheel tucked under my butt

- Several bruises and some velcro rash on my shoulders where we practiced hitting at derby

- a bruise/scrape in the middle of my back from where part of a gazebo I was trying to build fell over and landed on me

- Sunburn on my chest, neck, face & scalp (totally counts) (it’s really red)

- A hole in my heart from when I discovered Michael Bay is making the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles into aliens.

Snickerdoodle bread

So, the snickerdoodle bread. I should probably tell you about that, huh? I realize it’s somewhat bipolar to post about dieting and then give you a recipe for delicious carbs the next day, but hey, that’s how I roll. Somewhere in the middle I find balance.

I found the recipe for snickerdoodle bread here. And it’s not really bread. It’s cake. But you could justify it for breakfast.

(Bear in mind that is coming from someone who can justify cold-pizza-with-a-chocolate-cake-chaser for breakfast.)

(Anyway, there is ALSO a recipe for snickerdoodle cake that I haven’t tried. So clearly this one must be healthier. Ha.)

I made a couple of adjustments to the original recipe:

Snickerdoodle Bread
2 1/2 cups flour
2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
2 tsp cinnamon
1 cup butter, softened
2 cups sugar
3 eggs
2 tsp vanilla
1 cup no-fat sour cream (no-fat sour cream is totally unacceptable for use as sour cream, but it works okay for baking) (It also makes you feel slightly better about the 2 cups of sugar and butter that you just stuffed down your breadhole.)
1 package cinnamon chips Skor bits– I don’t know what the hell cinnamon chips are, but if you do, feel free to try them.

2 tbsp sugar
2 tsp cinnamon

Preheat oven to 350°. Spray two loaf pans (or two muffin pans or four mini loaf pans or, well, you get the picture).
Mix together butter, sugar, salt and cinnamon. Add eggs, vanilla and sour cream, and mix well. In a separate bowl, combine flour and baking powder. Add flour mixture and Skor bits to batter.

Pour the batter in the pans. Combine the sugar and cinnamon in a small bowl and sprinkle it over each loaf. Bake 15-20 minutes for muffins, 35-40 minutes for mini loaves and 60-70 minutes for full-size loaves (depending on your stove and chosen receptacles, the timing is a total crapshoot so just bake until it smells good and until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean).

 

There you go. I’ve recently sworn off conventional wheat, which is a whole other post in itself (short version: it’s genetically modified EVIL) so I’m going to try baking this with spelt flour.

Stop laughing. I’m sure it will turn out FINE.

I’ll keep you posted.

I'd cheer more but I'm feeling rather weak. Pass me that pastry?

Late post today. I was out trying to burn off those nachos I had for lunch. Also, those stolen bites of DQ Blizzard. And...some other stuff.

I'm back on the dieting bandwagon again. Can you tell?! Yayyayayyayayyaya starvation!

(Dieting apparently enhances my sarcasm. Yet another fabulous benefit.)

This time I'm using MyFitnessPal to self-torture, er, track calories. I have used SparkPeople in the past, and it is still very good, but MFP has an added social component. You can get encouragement from friends, and let them see what you ate and did for exercise if you want.Supposedly you lose up to three times more weight if your friends can shame you for that chocolate blackout.

(You've never blacked out and eaten ALL the chocolates? Just me?)

Is anybody else using MyFitnessPal? I need people to chide me about my nachos-for-lunch choices, but also people who tell me it's totally okay to eat that whole snickerdoodle cake after midnight, everybody does it. I have openings for both good cops and bad cops. I'm SuperKeely on MFP if you want to look me up.

(Well, I'm SuperKeely most places, but there too.)

Yayyayayyyayayay team starvation?

Without stating the obvious...

Oh my god you guys, today was beautiful. Like, 86 degrees and breezy and sunny and BEAUTIFUL. Do you know what that means? Do you? IT MEANS SUMMER IS HERE, MOTHERFUCKERS.

Those of you in a less bipolar climate probably don't have the same...stirrings...around this time of year. It doesn't matter to you that a person can suddenly, say, leave the house without 45 minutes preparation. One can start their car and not have to wait 15 minutes for it to warm up. One can wear light, cute jackets. One can go outside without... scurrying.

Summer is a time of much more social activity. You remember who your neighbours are. You chat over the fence. You get invitations to barbecues, daily. You go boating and sit in the grass and admire the sound of dirt crunching under your shoes.

Summer is like coming back to life.

You go to parades and festivals. You go for walks and bike rides. You plant things that grow, your life is just a little easier.

 

 

Your water bill suddenly skyrockets.

Can't imagine why.

(He does that every. Single. Day. Just...fills the entire sandbox with water.)

(It's a small price to pay.)

 

(SUMMER, you guys.)

And where is his protective gear?!

I went for my first outdoor skate this weekend. Even though we've had nice weather for quite a while, it seemed like every time I put my outdoor wheels on my skates, it would rain.

So I finally got to go! Extra skating! Yayyayyayyayay! [wave arms in the air Kermit-style]

Also see: Holy crap, is that ever hard work. Like, way harder than at practice. There are rocks, and sticks, and wind. And places where it is uphill

(Both ways!)

I went with a derby pal and we stopped at one point, mostly because we were tired after a whole 10 minutes, but also to check out this guy.

He was standing on top of a bridge with a UNICYCLE, trying to steel himself to ride it over the arc. His friends were giggling on the shore with a flip cam.

"I say he goes sideways," my friend speculated.

"Nah. With the curve, he'll either go backwards and fall on his face, or he'll go forwards and crack the back of his head on the edge before his limp body falls onto the bridge," I replied.

She raised an eyebrow at me. "I hope he goes sideways," she repeated.

"I hope he chickens out and just doesn't do it," I said. (What? I have SOME piece of my soul left, honest.) 

He delayed for so long - hemming and hawing and "OMG"ing - that we go bored and skated on.

 

 ...

 

I know, you expected a more spectacular end to that story, didn't you? So did I.

YouTube has completely ruined us as a society.

Spare some change?

Today I moved desks at work. 

It wasn't an earth-shattering move; one of my co-workers moved down the hall and so I snagged her desk. I'm tired of having my back to the door. I'm not easily startled, but I don't want anyone to sneak up on me while I'm, say, blogging.

You wouldn't think that this sort of thing would have an impact on your life. It's the same room, the same co-workers, the desk is identical. Except that it's backwards.

I've found myself mildly unsettled by this all day. My pens are in the wrong spot. My files need to go somewhere new. The desktop on my computer got reset when I unplugged everything to move it. People walk into the office and pause, expecting to see someone else where I'm sitting. This one tiny change in the status quo has caused ripples.

I like to think that people are adaptable; we accommodate social change, geographic change, losses, death. But we are also creatures of habit, of routine. We get used to having things a certain way, we find comfort in them.

I find comfort in them too, but I'm also of the belief that routine breeds closed minds. Too much comfort creates fear of the unknown. Fearful, closed minds are dark. They scorn. They hate. They resist understanding.

So I force myself to change it up occasionally, even little things. Take a different route to work. Shop at a different grocery store. Wear that shirt that's in the back of the closet that I never felt comfortable in. Change is good. 

But sometimes I really have to force it. A minor shift in my everyday perspective can chafe more than an entire trip to another country. 

What tiny thing have you changed lately?

 

Absence makes the butt grow fonder.

I missed posting yesterday. It was because, I was, once again, on planes.

(Also, once again, being flagged by security/customs. Hello, Canadian Customs agents, thank you for not being too creepy about fondling all of my dirty underwear.)

(Do I look like a spy? I must look like a spy. Natasha Romanova, I’m next in line for your job.)

I loved Atlanta and everything and everybody in it, but I won’t lie, I was glad to get home to my menfolk. I got home late last night so I basically mumbled a ‘hello’ to Alfred and fell asleep. Promptly at 7am my four-year-old crawled into bed with us.

“Hi, buddy,” I whispered. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Mama,” he told me. “Can I stick my butt in your face?”

Then he laughed maniacally.

Happy Mother’s Day to you all. May you all be similarly blessed.

The touristy bits

Our conferencing is complete, so today we went to some tourist parts of Atlanta. This included the World of of Coca-Cola (CokeWorld?), the Georgia Aquarium, taking the right bus but in the wrong direction, and meeting up with Becky.

 

That's Becky & I, rendered in Coke bubbles and suitably branded. You don't get out of the World of Coca-Cola without their stamp on you somewhere.

Did you know Atlanta is the birthplace of Coca-Cola? I actually didn't. Apparently, people don't offer you a "pop" or a "soda" here, they offer you a coke. Then they tell you what kinds they have.

It's the little things.

World of Coke was a tribute to the amazing marketing machine that Coke has been for 126 years, and then they let you sample all their products, including the ones that are popular in other countries. I have to say some other countries have strange taste in beverages, but it was fun.

Then we had a Googie burger in the park, where there was better wifi than I'm currently getting (and paying for!) in the hotel.

Then, aquarium. There were fish. It was really cool but I always feel mildly guilty about the animals. I'm sure those stingrays just LOVE to be poked repeatedly.

That didn't stop me from poking them, mind. But still. I'd break them out if I could.

I figured I walked for about 5 hours today. That seems like a lot. My feet agree. I'm about ready to go home, I think.

What do y'all have going on?

What I learned

I just spent two days in a LOT of sessions about digital marketing. Here are a few takeaways:

  • You don't need to be on Pinterest, even though absolutely everybody else is on Pinterest. No, really. Why are you all still talking about Pinterest?
  • Twitter is still awesome.
  • People like to be "surprised and delighted". I know, I was shocked too.
  • Google+ isn't popular because Google is too transparent about their Big Brotherness. Stop telling us what creepily accurate analytics we can get from it, and maybe someone will start using it for fun, you guys. (Okay, that one is less of a takeaway and more of my own opinion.)(They're trying so HARD though, I feel bad for them.)(Not bad enough to spend much time on G+ though.)
  • The modern attention span rivals that of a goldfish. My toe is itchy. What was I talking about again?
  • Puppies and kittens are always a marketing winner.
  • Facebook is a mess.
  • I don't see how the economy is still suffering, with all the e-shopping people are apparently doing.
  • Mall shopping is still fun. That one isn't so much a "conference" takeaway as a "we went shopping after the conference" takeaway.

There, now you guys don't have to go to any conferences on digital marketing. I have served a useful purpose!

Whoever makes the M&Ms might want to reconsider, too.

Did you know you can get M&Ms in custom colors?

Apparently you can. Kind of a neat idea for conference swag.

Although, in my humble opinion, you may want to reconsider if your company colors are orange and GRAY.

That picture doesn't really do it justice. They were kind of hideous. Even I didn't eat them.

Marketing! I can't figure it out either. Good thing I'm at this marketing conference.

On a plane

ooops. I forgot to blog yesterday. In my defense, I was on planes.


Also, being detained through airport security a couple of times. Apparently, I look awfully suspicious, because my boarding pass was stamped with a quadruple "S".


Did you know that? That "SSSS" on your boarding pass means you've been flagged for extra security checks? "Random" checks are not that random, or at least they're random, but starting the moment you check in.


I'm thinking they could have come up with a better acronym, myself. Or maybe it's an obscure reference to being a Snake on the Plane.


I have no idea why I was chosen. The first flight ,the other lucky recipient was the father of a very wholesome looking family, so it probably really WAS random, although it's possible that I'm on a List somewhere, I suppose. I have a shady past, if you count that one time I slept on a foreign beach and that time I didn't inhale in college. (Er, ok, high school.) My co-worker has declared she's never travelling with me again. At least the security checks were very polite and stopped short of body cavities?


Anyway, we arrived in Atlanta fine, but very late. Atlanta smells nice, everybody is very polite and it's raining, that's about all I have to say about that so far. Probably I will blog TWICE today, aren't you lucky?

I know why you come here. It’s for the scintillating conversation.

Ack! I’m terrible at this daily posting thing. See? I told you, I’d start to fail around day 5. Or 7. I forget what I said, that was 3 whole posts ago.

(Who are you people again? Did I wake up here? Why is the cat in the oven?)

I have an excuse for blogging at 11pm, though. I went to the Avengers movie.

I know, my life is full of heavy responsibility.

You should go see it too. It’s awesome, even if you’re a comic book person, which is not something you can say about most comic book movies. Most comic book movies leave comic book people with a vague sense of unease, like there is a tear in the fabric of their universe that can’t be repaired.

Comic book people! They’re so sensitive.

Tomorrow I’m going to head out to Atlanta. Not on a whim, though it would be nice to be able to do such things, and not even primarily to see Becky, although that is definitely on my agenda. I’m going for a conference. Work-related. An entire conference about digital marketing, which will be super helpful for my job, and probably make me think about how much more I could be doing for my blog, too.

Like, writing something funny, for instance.

So I probably won’t have much to say about that. I might have something to say about Atlanta though, we’ll see.

Tomorrow, for example, I will likely say something along the lines of “Atlanta is hot and the taxi ride was exciting, I’m going to bed now.”

I’m going to bed now.

Finally, I have a super power. Sort of.

Since we’ve lived in our house (6 years), there have been four water-related disasters. I flooded the house (though it was the dog’s fault), the roof leaked in the living room, the spring seepage grew black mold that made us all extremely sick, and then the dog flooded the house herself.

This weekend, Xander and I went out to spend a couple of days at my parent’s “Ranch”. While we were there, a pipe burst and water poured out all over the basement.

“I’m beginning to suspect I’m cursed,” I whined to my brother when he called later. (Because that’s what I do when I only talk to to someone every 6 months, I whine. Actually maybe that’s WHY he only talks to me every 6 months?)

“Possibly,” he agreed. “How’s roller derby going?”

“Really good. We’re into our new practice space. But I haven’t been able to skate outside yet, every time I put my outdoor wheels on my skates it rains.”

“So what you’re saying,” he mused, “Is that water everywhere reacts to you negatively.”

“…yes!”

“You’re controlling all the water in the world.”

OH MY GOD, YOU GUYS.

I’m the Anti Aqua Woman!

Or something. I’ll have to work on the costume. But still! I finally have a real super power!

Which is awesome, because “Drinks Too Much Wine Woman” and “Makes Inappropriate Jokes At Daycare Board Meetings Woman” just weren’t really doing it for me.

Roller Derby Perceptions.

I realize I talk about derby a lot. It’s the honeymoon phase. Also, I don’t have anything to write about because I spend a lot of my time on derby-related activities. You have my permission to ignore this post.

No, not really. Read it. I’m getting pretty mean on these skates, you know.

Anyway, I have a twitter search set up for “roller derby” because I have been handed the reins of our league’s twitter account. I’ve noticed over the last few weeks that there are some general themes in what people have to say about the sport.

1. So…roller derby is for fat girls. Wow, no. Playing derby is for everybody in possession of a vagina. (And sometimes for those who aren’t so blessed, there are now men’s leagues. Men can also ref.) The difference between roller derby and, say, basketball, is that there are advantages to every body type. Heavier girls can hit harder, but they may not be as fast. Small girls can be fast but you can hit them hard. Tall girls can see over the pack. Short girls can sneak around the pack. Et cetera.

2. Roller derby is only for butch lesbians. Again…no. Wives, moms, all kinds of women play roller derby.

3. So…roller derby is for HOT lesbians.  Jesus Christ, people.

4. Oh my god, my teacher plays roller derby! I see this a LOT. I suspect teachers just have a lot of aggression to work through, okay? Your hairdresser and your accountant might play roller derby too.

5. I would play roller derby if it wasn’t for…. It’s not some secret club. Just go do it, if you want to. If you’re just making excuses because you’re afraid of getting hit, I have tickets to the bout I can sell you. Don’t sit in the front row though.

6. Wow, am I ever glad I’m not a trashy roller derby girl. OMG! You are SO lucky to have avoided that. You must feel genetically superior to the rest of us who had no control over ending up here.

7. I don’t see the appeal of roller derby. That’s fine. Nobody’s perfect.

8. OMG it’s my first derby practice/OMG I’m trying out for roller derby! AWESOME. See you on the track. I will probably hit you, and then hug you.

The French Equation

I am going to be very un-UnMom-like* today, and talk about my kid. You'll forgive me I know, because after all, if I am going to be posting every day this month I will need all the material I can get.

In the fall, my one-and-only will be starting Kindergarten. I know! This is hard for all mothers. Part of me is very much in love with his growing independence and the idea of saving money on daycare, and part of me just wants to keep him home in a small room feeding him mush and halved grapes until he is 30. (Fortunately, that last part is much smaller, or it could be awkward for everyone.)

We could have waited another year, or "redshirted" him, as his birthday is in October. But I think he is ready, for the most part, and besides, he's quite a large child. Alfred is 6'3", and Xander has clearly inherited that. If we kept him back another year, I worry that he'd be the size of a 9-year-old and prone to throwing his weight around, or subject to teasing.

It's weird, this desire to keep our children within the tiny spectrum of "average".

Anyway, now our dilemma is, "French Immersion or not French Immersion?". In Canada we have that as an option in public schools, to have our children be taught in two languages. (Obviously, they ease them into it.) Alfred and I had some differences of opinion about this. Essentially, it was a conflict of two different experiences; I was taught in French Immersion for a large chunk of my schooling, and Alfred was not. 

The two schools we have access to measure up equally, really. Xander has friends that will be going to each, they both have a good after-school program. We met both Kindergarten teachers. The teacher at the English school is...fine. She's fine. She's nearing retirement so she's not that enthusiastic, but she's fine.

The Kindergarten teacher at the French Immersion school is amazing. She spoke eloquently about her teaching philosophy, she came around and introduced herself to every single parent, she invited us in to her tidy, inspiring, Montessori-esque classroom. 

However. She is also about to give birth.

Again, Canada is different in that women don't have to dash back to work when their infant is 6 weeks old. We're extremely lucky - we can access government assistance for up to a year's maternity leave. So...Xander would never really be taught by this gem of a person, and the school doesn't know who is replacing her. It could be someone equally wonderful, or it could be Cruella DeVille looking for her next preschooler-skin coat.

Alfred has mostly conceded that a second language is good, and that Xander's english skills won't suffer. We're (mostly) in agreement about putting him in French Immersion. But I have misgivings about committing him to being taught by someone I've never met. 

So, yes, dilemma. When did being a parent become so hard?

 

* Related: at some point I explained to Xander that 'un' meant 'not'. I can't remember the situation that required this explanation, but a couple of days later I told him that honey bees can sting. He insisted they could not, so I asked him what kind of bees DO sting. "Regular bees," he replied, "bumblebees, un-honeybees..."

See, you guys? LANGUAGE IS HIS FRIEND.

May 3

Thank you guys, for all the birthday wishes yesterday. Also, thank you for not responding to my whiny post with "Awwww, poor puppy!" because that's what 90% of people did in the Real World, and those people all suck.

NEVER MIND THE DAMN DOG MY HARDWOOD FLOORS ARE WARPING.

Anyway, my birthday was good. I had sushi, a pedi, and derby. Those are all things my 38-year-old self requires for a successful celebration of That Fateful Day. 

I've come a long way.

Anyway, every day in May I am going to blog. I'm going to do this because I miss you guys, and also I have a lot going on in May so it will make me look cooler than I am. So that is a Thing I Am Attempting.

(Note...Attempting. Not Doing. Because we all know I will fail at this somewhere around Day 5.)

(Yes we do know that. Don't argue.)

I'll more likely than not be Attempting this during my lunch hour at work, which means my posts may be fragmented and strange. Just what you've come to expect!

Actually, I think work is why I haven't blogged much lately. I do a lot of communicating, all day, really, massaging of data and opinions and tweaking of emails and having meetings and talking on the phone, and then I pick up a 4-year-old who wants nothing more than to ask me questions and communicate more, and then by the time I get my precious hour to myself, the last damn thing I want to do is communicate. I don't even want to talk to Alfred, I just want to sit on the couch in my pajamas and watch Torchwood.

Communication is fun until you have to do it as a job.

But I still want to be A Blogger, and anyway I've run out of available episodes of Torchwood. Those are both good reasons to take inspiration from Becky and blog every day this month.

Aren't you glad I started off with such brilliance?