Happy Birthday to Doug!!!

While I may not know Doug exceedingly well, I do know him enough to say that he’s intelligent, kind, considerate, warm & caring, a terrific husband to the Imperial Princess of Cute, and one of the sweetest guys I’ve ever met. He also has a wickedly delightful sense of humor, and gives great hugs.

Doug, you have all my best wishes for a wonderful birthday and many more to come!

Tuesday was not the “bestest day ever.” Nor was Monday, for that matter. Not that there was anything horrific, just a whole lot — say, a couple of metric butt-tons — of aggravation that I Did Not Need. I can’t wait until I’m elderly; Betty White will be my role model, as I plan on telling people in the sweetest, most smiling little-old-lady fashion that if they don’t like something, they can just fuck off.

My cherished Number One Internet Fanboy emailed to ask what happened for me to change my iMood thingie, and I vented quite a bit about the afore-mentioned aggravations, which had gotten on what was probably my last nerve (or close to it). Pretty much the only bright spot was that neither of my boyfriends had a part in said aggravation. I wrapped up the email by saying, “It’s days like this that the Adam Sandler song ‘Somebody Kill Me Please’ echoes inside my skull on a recurring loop…”

Okay, there was one other bright spot — Anxiety & I had a lovely evening of mommy-daughter bonding on Tuesday night. After sitting through an excrable mandatory meeting for 8th-graders’ parents at her school (which included a solid hour of wanting to slap the parents who brought their noisy small children, and the adults who rambled on — and on, and on — unnecessarily), we had dinner at IHOP. We talked about stuff like movies we’d enjoyed, the silliness of teenagers (and often their parents and/or teachers), and I told her all the blond jokes I could remember. Then we went home and spent an hour wiping tears away and sniffling while watching the Steve Irwin public memorial service on Animal Planet.

Then I helped her with her homework — the school claims they only assign 30 minutes’ worth, but she does at least twice that, just about every day. And on top of that, she’s supposed to read for at least 30 minutes every evening?! Screw that noise! I know damned well that her reading & comprehension ability is far above her grade level, and (unlike most kids) she actually does read for pleasure, so I see absolutely NO need to enforce an arbitrary amount of reading time daily. The several thousand books in our home are NOT just for taking up wall space and creating more horizontal surfaces for me to dust, after all!

I’ve had more than enough stress in the last couple of days. Where’s that damned cabana boy to attend to my every whim when I need him?!

You know it’s going to be a fun day when you IM your beloved while he’s at work, to chat with him and tell him how much you love him, and the response you get is…

Hi. I’ll be able to talk after the EMT and cops leave.

Oh the joy and excitement. I am nigh well overcome.

Are auto manufacturers trying to appeal to a Pagan (or New Age) customer base these days, or what?! First Pontiac comes out with the Solstice, and now Saturn has a model called the Aura.

What’s next, the Jeep Cauldron? How about the Mercury Gemini (extra points for obnoxious pun)? Or perhaps the Volvo Rune?

If any car manufacturer brings out a model called the “Ravenwolf,” I’ll be forced to ritually slaughter their design team.

Saw this in a profile (of a rather intruiging gent) on okCupid…

Last month, a world-wide survey was conducted by the United Nations. The only question asked was… “Would you please give your honest opinion about solutions to the food shortage in the rest of the world?”

The survey was a huge failure because…:

In Africa they didn’t know what “food” means.

In Eastern Europe they didn’t know what “honest” means.

In Western Europe they didn’t know what “shortage” means.

In China they didn’t know what “opinion” means.

In the Middle East they didn’t know what “solution” means.

In South America they didn’t know what “please” means.

In the USA they didn’t know what “the rest of the world” means.

My eldest demonspawn got her sister the coolest birthday pressie — The Forensic Casebook: The Science of Crime Scene Investigation. Ooooh, fun for the whole family!!

And what did I get my youngest for her birthday? A tongue piercing — because every teenager needs another hole in the head. Bwa ha ha ha ha!

Now that I’ve spent more hours than I care to admit over the last few days alphabetizing my tagline collection, I’m going to mine the Internet for new & amusing taggies. Because there are 4 eighth-graders in my living room watching anime (kill me now, please) on the TV, and — though they’re all spiffy kids — I prefer my own company.

Yeah, I really know how to have a good time on a Friday night. Oh, the excitement; how will I ever manage? *rolls eyes*

Fourteen years ago today, I gave birth to a nine-pound baby girl after about 10 hours of mostly-easy labor — and then promptly left the hospital when she was 7 hours old (I hate hospitals). I don’t really recall where the nickname “Boo” came from; possibly it was from playing “Peek-A-Boo” with her, but in any case it’s something only I’ve ever called her.

And now for something completely TMI…

My younger demonspawn just started eighth grade at the local environmental magnet school Hippie School. After her previous two years of attendance, I’ve finally gotten used to the idea of pre-teens addressing their teachers by their first names, and become quite adept at translating politically-correct hippie-speak into actual English.

But despite my lack of total unconditional support for the program, it’s probably a better atmosphere for Anxiety than a “traditional” middle school would be. She’s perhaps just a smidgen too “self-confident” (i.e. outspoken & direct) than most teachers would probably like — at least in Hippie School, she can be encouraged to focus her “uniquely expressive style” in directions other than becoming the godfather of the 8th Grade Mafia. (Have you seen the movie Heathers? Yeah, she’d be a cross between Heather #1 and Jason.)

Oops, “godfather” probably isn’t politically correct. I suppose I should say “non-patriarchal organizing director” or something like that.

And now for something completely TMI…

I found this fan-created video technically well-made, seriously wrong, shockingly mind-boggling, …and perversely erotic.

Closer

Warning: This video contains violent material, strong language, and adult themes which may be objectionable to some viewers. Viewer discretion is advised.

(Lyse will be so annoyed that she didn’t come up with this idea for Stargate SG-1 first!)

The frequent barrage of political ads is becoming pretty damned annoying…and I know it will be overwhelmingly worse in 2008 (especially if the Democrats can’t get their asses out of their heads and nominate a candidate that has a snowball’s chance of winning the Presidential election). I’m registered Democrat, but only because I’m slightly less nauseated by them than by the Republicans. All the political quizzes I’ve taken indicate that my political philosophy is that of a moderate Libertarian (more liberal values on social issues, more conservative values on economic issues). But really, no political party would probably want to claim me anyway…

And now for something completely TMI…