Exactly HOW Many Hours Are In A Day?!

Well, I have been putting off this post for a week now. Partly because my Grad School admissions experience has been a little less than desirable. They were MANY forms to fill out, Letters of Recommendation to be sought, a Letter of Intent, my resume, a 20 - 30 piece portfolio and of course, a little over $3,000 and that's just for the 1st two classes. I know, OUCH. Lather that together with an admissions department that mimics the Who's on First gag and you'll see JUST how crazy I have been. And the whole ONLINE aspect throws 300 more wrenches into the works. And did I mention the laid-back attitude the Miami folks have? They are SO not like us (OK ME, it's ME) up here in the North East. I envy their cool, smooth ways, so not uptight and wound up.

But, here it is. I have been accepted to the Miami International University of Art & Design Masters of Graphic Design program. (I'd do cartwheels - but I'm afraid to throw something out.)

And I start on Monday.

Nice of them to wait until Tuesday to let me know - THAT gave me TONS of time to secure the FOUR books I needed. Wow, and I get to pay EXTRA for RUSH shipping - aaaaaaaaaahhhhhh you guys - really, you shouldn't have.

According to their orientation, I should expect to spend approximately 15 hours of my time per class. I have 2 classes. I know math has never been my strong suit - but I think that's 30 hours. 30 FUCKING HOURS. Can I start to cry BEFORE I even start the classes???? No. I didn't think so.

And can we talk about the fact that I graduated college like a million years ago. Ok. Like 12 years to be exact. And I haven't stepped inside a classroom since - unless it was one I was teaching. I'm a little scared. I opened a few of the books and skimmed through the reading and I swear to God I heard The Charlie Brown teacher reading it to me. Wah, wah, wah waaaah. Wah wah wahhh waaahh wahhh wahhh. Oh my GOD!

And can we briefly talk about my teaching? We can? Oh good. Because I have been, for the last 3 years, teaching 2 different Design classes at night alternating Design I Fall Semester, Design II Spring Semester. I really like this job. Ok, I love this job, which is why I am getting my Master's Degree and give myself the opportunity to teach at the collegiate level anywhere - not just a private school. The pay - she sucks the big one. Considering my hourly billable rate for my Real Job is approximately what I take home for the entire paycheck at the College - it's laughable.

This week I received an email from the new Chair for the Graphics Department. He and I are of similar mindset regarding the way we teach. I have, on more than one teacher evaluation received a "She's too strict, She's hard. wahhhhhhhhhhh" I say I'm doing my job - because life is hard and getting a job is hard. And I am doing them no justice if I hold their hand through all this and they can't function outside the four walls of school. Anyway. He asked me to teach the Design II class in the Spring semester - not only the night class - but the daytime Friday class. Holy shit.

My first reaction was "OH MY GOD YES." I have wanted another class - I just never expected a day class. The day class is packed. It's a required class. I would part of the accepted faculty and not just the night adjunct no one knew. But. I have a day job. That pays me a lot of money. I would have to work extra hours the night before and that night just to make it up. And then there are the kids. What if one is sick? Not to mention the fact that, I would be driving like a maniac every Friday to beat the bus to my house. And, to be honest - I'm a little scared. I have been running my business from the sanctity of my own home for the last 7 years. I am good at it. I make 6 figures in my pajamas. But OUT of the HOUSE during the day - screws with my schedule. But, I said yes. It is a great opportunity for me. I can't pass it up - no matter how much more I am taking on.

So. I will be taking classes. I will be teaching classes. I will be continuing to work my 50 hours at my job, I will be driving the kids to their activities no less than 4 times a week, and I will clean my house/cook/shop, etc. I also would like to add in there at least 30 minutes of exercise which I have been sadly neglecting. I guess I just won't be sleeping. I will post when I can. Wish me luck - or at least send booze.

To My Sister

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!
cha-cha-cha!!


Hope your day is as wonderful as you are!
Love you Lots!!

And for anyone wondering how I might SHOW my sister how much I love her dearly (I AM HER BIGGEST FAN) - we are making an appointment with the Clinique gals and they are going to show her how to paint her face. And I am gonna buy her the makeup they say to. And we'll have lunch. OH YES - THERE WILL BE FOOD!!



Now go on over and wish her a Happy Birthday!

Cat's Eyes

Recently, we had a (formerly) favorite Aunt move away to the Mid-West from the North East. She is not formerly favorite BECAUSE of the move. I think she is two-faced and on more than one occasion have felt that she was talking behind my back. No proof - just a gut thing. I never confronted her about it. Just a hunch - a feeling. Something like the hairs on the back of your neck raising up when something is WRONG. Like THAT. Shifty eyes.

ANYWAY. She moved. Kit and caboodle - sold her shit and headed out West. Now, my kids LIKE said Aunt. A LOT. And I think she genuinely likes them. But, the problem is, she is not always true to her word with them. She makes a promise and doesn't keep it. AND doesn't feel bad for it. For instance, 2 Christmases ago, Miss Thing was 6, she promised to make her 2 dress up outfits for her gift. Dorothy from the Wizard of OZ and Jasmin the Princess. Christmas morning came and while Lil Man was ripping through HIS gifts, Miss Thing got a white smock (the under part to Dorothy's dress) and NOTHING ELSE but a PROMISE to get them to her asap. NO OTHER GIFT.

And guess what?

She NEVER GOT THEM. Talk about a sad kid.

So, I am a little bitter. I am more than a little skeptical about her word. I have told her MANY times to not promise ANYTHING - that way either the kids will be excited by the surprise or never know they were ripped off again. BECAUSE I HAVE TO PICK UP THE FUCKING PIECES. And make excuses for HER. Bullshit. I know tell my kids to not expect anything she says - and then they won't be disappointed.

So, she calls and promises gifts are on the way. Sigh.

Imagine my surprise when the mailman walks to the front door with a big ole box marked for Lil Man. (She had warned that they were coming separately and Miss Things would be later in the week.) So, Lil Man ripped it open and I never saw a bigger smile on a kids face.

Auntie had bought him "adoption" of a tiger from her local zoo. In the package was a stuffed tiger, a Adoption certificate, a sheet about the tiger's eating habits, facts and such, an invitation to Parent's weekend to meet with the keeper of your animal and YOUR animal, and a picture of your newly adopted "kid".

Lil Man wants to be a vet. He loves all things animals. He nearly broke his face with the size of that smile. He hugged the stuffed tiger and carried the picture of the real one around for hours.

He came back into the kitchen while I was making dinner and held the picture of the tiger up next to his head.

"Mom?"

"Yeah?"

"Look - we have the same color eyes."

THANK GOD he turned and went back upstairs because I rolled around on the floor laughing about how he saw the similarities between himself and his "son".

God, I love that kid.

And Auntie - ya did good.

Crab Apples

On Saturday, we hopped in the car and made the journey up north to MA to the Big E. Now, if you don't live in the North East - you may not know what the Big E is, so I'll give you the basics. It's the biggest fair around. And food, and rides, and food, and farm animals, and food, and horse shows, and food, and crafters, and food, and shows (Foreigner was playing that night) and food, a circus and Cream Puffs. You get what I'm saying.

Around these parts, its known as the Big Eat. And hey, a place like that is OK in my book. The kids love going and seeing the attractions. They have baby pigs (my favorite - and not just on my plate next to the eggs) and a hatchery that boasts over 10,000 chicks born during the Big E's 3 week block. It's a very cool family thing to do.

And the place is beautiful. Historical buildings, stone walls and all sorts of trees.

While walking in the sunshine, we were passing a beautiful line of trees - and one in particular had gorgeous, full branches and little red fruit on them.

DH who grew up in the city and never even saw a real live frog before I transplanted him in the country says, "Is that a cherry tree?"

Me, stifling a laugh, "Uh, No honey, that's a crab apple tree."

Lil Man, not missing a beat says, "Well, ya know, the BAD apple doesn't fall too far from the tree."

Seriously, where does he come from?

OK, Because Nothing Peps Me Up Like A Little No Legs, No Arms Jokes

(Thank you Loiuse) And thanks to my sister for telling me every joke she knew this morning in , in the car, on her way to the store, without a hands-free device - the police be damned.

I LOVE these kinds of jokes, and GOD if you all don't either have the same fucked up sense of humor or know mine all too well... I give you these....

What do you call a guy with no arms or legs...

...in front of the door?
Matt

...in a ditch?
Phil

...in your hot tub?
Stu

...on your BBQ grill?
Frank

...waterskiing
Skip

...on a beach?
Sandy

...in a pool?
Bob

What do you call his dog in the pool with no legs?
Bob Barker

...on the wall?
Art

And what do you call his arms and legs?
Pieces of Art

What if he also doesn't have a tongue?
Tasteless Art


What do you call a guy with no arms and no legs...

...in a pile of leaves? I SWEAR THIS ONE IS MY FAVORITE.......
Russell

Same guy after 6 months?
Pete

What do you call two guys with no arms and no legs in the water?
Swimming trunks

What do you call two guys with no arms & no legs hanging on a wall?
Curt 'n Rod

What do you call a guy with no legs and one arm, holding up your car?
Jack

What do you call a guy with no feet?
Neil

What do you call a woman with one leg shorter that the other?
Eileen

An Asian woman with the same affliction?
Irene

After the operation?
Noleen

I am trying to pull myself out of the sludge. It may take some medication.
Oh yeah........and everyone......thanks.

Sludge

Did you ever feel like you were just going through your every days just feeling great - swimming through that crystal clear water that is your life. Not too deep - just surface skimming. That's where most of us swim. We don't go too deep. Because way deep down in the water that is our lives there are layers. Layers and layers of stuff. It's too thick to see through and we don't go there. It's not a good place.

And while swimming through with our eyes open, someone goes and stirs up the bottom of your life. Just takes a big ole wooden spoon and stirs and scraps the bottom. Now. Now, the water is no longer clear up top. It's murky and foggy. You can't really see clear through anymore. And no matter how you try to swim unscathed - a piece (or lots of pieces) of the sludge keep rapping you upside the head. It makes you disoriented. Nothing makes sense because these things are buried for a reason. The are NOT supposed to be stirred. They are SUPPOSED to sit at the bottom and become cement - form sedentary rocks for fossils. Fossis you can look at briefly - but not keep - they are not for keeping. They stay at the bottom.

I am swimming among the sludge. I have been for a few weeks.

I am trying to tread water until all the sludge settles again. And try not to drown in the meantime.

No details. Of the sludge or the stirrer. Not important.

So I am asking you. Can someone please tell me a joke - so I can laugh while treading water.
I am getting a cramp - seriously a joke. Please.

Kickin Ass and Takin' Names

You are looking into the eyes of the proud new owner of a blue belt.

She's a little intense, no?

Can't figure out where that came from......

Ya Heard It Here First

Rock and Roll is coming back!

Yes, it IS. Shut up, it is.

I know this from the immense amount of research I've done on the subject, interviews with everyone in-the-know and statistics gathered from the sales of record labels. Ok, that's all bullshit. But, I do have a few factors that I've taken into consideration to support my thesis. They are as follows....

1. While teaching my class in the computer lab at the Art College, I hear MANY songs coming from MANY iPods plugged into their computers - but above all of them I hear and RECOGNIZE "I'm the Man in the Box" by Alice in Chains. My heart, be still - you're getting an A.

2. Three letters - V.M.A. - MTV's Video Music Awards was a plethora of rock bands winning, including Panic! at the Disco - which by the way, I think my family should be getting royalties for since I am positve my father wrote that song that goes "Hasn't anyone ever heard of - closing the God Damn door" back in 1973. I'm just sayin.

3. MTV Cribs has long been associated with the rap artists and their kicks, rides and bling. I actually saw a Rock God addition of Cribs with the likes of Dee Snyder and Gene Simmons to name a few. I'm not sayin they're Gods - but I am SO tired of the staged refrigerator shot of the Cristal top to bottom.

4. And speaking of Gene Simmons - he has HIS OWN show. And his family is normal (ok, somewhat normal - more like my family - not that WE are normal - but you get what I'm sayin) - that are the Anti-Ozzy family.

5. Hallmark announced that they are putting sound bytes in a line of their cards and KISS is one of them. I can't wait to see where this takes us....

6. Shows like SuperGroup, Rockstar SuperNova, Tommy Goes To College and CSI starring Kid Freakin Rock on primetime.

7. AC/DC music is EVERY-FREAKIN-WHERE. From the iPods, to phones to many other products - they are raking in serious royalties daily. Not to mention the fact that they are selling their merchandise in the Big Box stores like Walmart and Target.

8. VH1 actually has a section on their website called Rock on TV - where you can find out where any particular artist is playing - whether as a soundtrack or a live act. Yeah, that IS cool.

9. A student leans over to me during class to say, "Don't think I don't know that you were rocking out to Twisted Sister in the Big Blue Minivan when you left last week." Oh yes. Yes, I was.

10. Dragon Force. Look them up. They're gonna be huge.


So, there you have it.

Right here, on this blog, I am officially declaring the upswing of Rock and the downward spiral of Rap as we know it. After all, how can the Rap Genre survive on lyrics from London Bridge, the children's nursery rhyme? Get serious.

Rock and Roll ain't noise pollution..........

Forgive Me Bloggers, For I Have Sinned....

It has been over a week since my last post. In that time, I have run with scissors, sworn at little old ladies and made my boy puke on the soccer field. Fuck Me. Amen.

Ok, so only one of those is true. Can you guess??? Can ya?? Here's how I am clinching the Mother of the Year for '06....

We signed Lil Man and Miss Thing up for the Fall season of soccer. They had played in the spring - which, from what everyone says, is far less competitive than the Fall League. I was there, in my fold up chair, I didn't see less competitiveness - but perhaps, that's just my skewed perspective.

Because, to be clear, I am the MOST competitive person I know. SEE, THE MOST. Can't be the runner-up - no sir-ee Bob. And my husband, just as much. (Well, I DO have a slight edge - because I must WIN at all things - so yeah, he's nearby.) See, it's a sickness, a mind-frame, a way of life. And Miss Thing is a chip off both blocks. She has the fever to be the winner. She strives to beat out everyone. She pushes to the point of glory. She raises her hands after running up the stairs - (key the Rocky Music...dunna dun, dunna dunnnnnnn) And my Lil Man, *sigh*, not so much.

Actually, not at ALL. Watching his "It's ok - you take the ball and score against me and I'll clap you on th back" demeanor is a bit hard to take. OK. To be honest, it feels like I took a six pack of old-school coke BOTTLES, drank them, chewed up all the glass bottles, swallowed them and then followed that up with a rubbing alcohol chaser. I know, I KNOW. But, it does. It is painful to watch.

Now, don't get me wrong, I am NOT going out there to kick the kids ass that scored against my son. I am SO not mad at anyone. I want my kid to TRY - that's all - nothing more. So, when they came off the field for a water break - I pulled him aside and told him, in no uncertain terms, he was to TRY, to RUN, to GETCHA HEAD IN THE GAME (HS Muscial reference for anyone not of school kids age). I may or may not have said I was gonna jack him right there on the field if I didn't see some kind of attempt at playing soccer and less chit-chatting with the defender next to him. High-five - back in the game.

AND OH MY GOD - it worked.

He was running, he was defending - he had HIS HEAD IN THE GAME. Did I forget to mention, it was Saturday afternoon, sunny, around 85 degrees and only 6 kids on his team showed up - so there were NO SUBS, these kids played the whole game? Oh, I did? Huh. Well, anywho, Lil Man asked to be put in Goalie and the coach concedes, as this is the only position the kids don't have to run in and can take a break.

I am feeling pretty smug - pretty confident in my pep talk. I am more than a bit happy with myself. I am smiling, watching down field when my husband breaks my good mood with these next 5 words.

OH MY GOD, HE'S PUKING.

Yes.

Yes, my internet friends, my little angel, my baby, I had pushed SO HARD, that he actually THREW UP IN THE FUCKING GOAL.

And not a little. Oh Noooooooooooooo. Three huge gushers. Pea-soup Exorcist, spin your fucking head off gushers. He was pale, maybe even green. He couldn't even walk off the field. I had to help him. I get him back to the sidelines and the guilt is weighing on my back like I just parked a Cadillac Escalade between my shoulder blades.

My husband and I share a guilty look between us. That look spoke volumes. It said, "Holy FUCK, we suck as parents. We actually pushed our kid so hard that he puked in front everyone. SO MUCH so, they had to move the goals. How do they even let us keep these kids." After a quick glance around to see if the black and whites were coming, we slinked off the field, heads down, silent ride home. I was barely choking back tears when my son asked how he did. "Awesome buddy - you were great."

That night, after the kids had long gone to bed, DH and I sat down and had a talk. We made a pack to just watch the game, no judgment, just encouragement. If we had to, we would look away. Pinkie swear - draw blood - smear together, forever. Amen.

So, if anyone comes to the soccer field, I'm sure you'll be able to spot me. I'll be the one with the big straw hat on, dark sunglasses with a tube sock shoved in my mouth, covered with duct tape.

Start of Week 2

Amazing how the long Labor Day weekend makes you think MAYBE there is a little bit of summer left and then BAM the next day - back to the grind.

Hope you all had a wonderful weekend.

We didn't jam ourselves with tons to do - a little visit with the parents and my lurvly sista and her kids (who now that they are mobile could give a shit if Auntie Sharpie wants to pick them up and hold them, damn it - MOVE I gots places to go!) and then a visit with the in-laws which ended with me making out like a bandit on the take-home front.

Not only did I take home lots of food, SIL just arrived back from overseas and brought many a gift for one and all. I received a few things for the house and 2 beautiful sets of necklace/bracelet combo. Which is such irony, because anyone who has read more than 3 posts from me or my sister knows we don't HAVE wrists - it goes from shoulder to hand - no in-between. HOWEVER, the Europeans in all their brilliance - make their bracelets absolutely adjustable - even for my fat wrists. (Either that or SIL gave this MUCH more thought than I am giving credit for and actually bought anklets and is just passing them off....

I know that I have been really lacking in the posting department - so I thought I'd give you a little recap of my week last week - just so we could all catch up.

1. 1st and last days of the week involved Lil Man - the puking you know about - what you don't know is that on Friday - with the bus barreling down the road and Lil Man like he had a rocket stuck up his ass - went tearing up the walkway and the driveway to get the bus. Like a bad slow-mo in a movie, flash back to me standing on the porch screeching "NOOOOOOOO! Don'ttttt runnnnnnnnnnnnnn!" Appropriate look of horror as the backpack he was rolling lost control and his legs just could not keep up with the laws of physics - down he went skidding to a stop on hands and knee. Like a good mom my first response was "See, THIS is why I tell you not to run!" Yes, I did. A little antiseptic later and a quick band-aid on the knee - I caught the bus on the way back and sent him on his way, ripped brand-new pants and all. No I didn't change his pants.

2. Soccer started for both Lil Man and Miss Thing - which equals to four days at the fields - 2 days of practice Wednesday and Friday and 2 days of games, Saturday and Sunday.

3. The college class I teach started the week before last. I have 5 kids. Guess how many showed up? One. Yes, One. This past week all 5 showed to receive my wrath. Awesome. It's gonna be a LONNNNG semester.

4. One shitty word - FUNDRAISERS. Yes, they came home on the 4th day of school.

5. I have filled out no less than 25 information sheets between the 2 kids for school - don't they already HAVE this shit?? Seriously!

6. I made home-made Tiramisu. It was so good. Expensive to make, but so good.

7. I had to buy both of the kids pants - because A) it is no longer summer here AT ALL and B) they were both above the ankles. Cripes. I thought I had until at least end of September - but no.

8. I enrolled in a grad program, to get my Master's Degree in Graphic Design.

Yeah that's it - no 9 or 10 because it's obvious from above - I have no time to do any such thing. I will try to post more, honest I will.