Monday, April 30, 2007

It's Monday (in case you didn't know)

I posted twice — TWICE, I know! — in one day over here.

You should click to see the pictures of Margaret's little quilt that we finally finished yesterday. You know you wanna.

Man, Monday again. The weekend whirled by.

Let's see what I want to write about today and what I want to leave for later. Hm.

Here's my little band sans our Rosie jumpsuits doing the acoustic thing for a fund-raiser for KAFM.

Bill took video of us playing, but I haven't looked at it. Don't know that I will.

I'm glad we did it, I got to sing three songs and that part was fun. But I'm just not proficient enough with the acoustic to feel comfortable. It's amazing how sweaty I got just sitting on that stool.

Plus, like a light switch getting flicked on, now it's summer here. It was in the 80s all weekend and just beautiful. And with the changing of the seasons from spring to summer comes the migration of the junk from the recesses of everyone's houses to the curb in honor of spring clean-up ... or as we like to call it, the tweaker's buffet.

Our fair city hosts a spring clean-up where you can put up to one dump-truck load of garbage outside and they'll come pick it up for free! We, like most folks, put our stuff out early so all the gleaners can pick through our garbage and hopefully recycle it.

It's a veritable parade of tweakers (aka meth heads aka those of few teeth) as they cruise their jalopies slowly through the neighborhoods looking for suitable tweaker junk.

So far someone took an old keyboard that Margaret no longer uses. Bill and I have selected our junk of choice (Bill chose the CD rack and I chose the twin bed frame) and are watching to see whose junk gets taken first.

Fun with junk. That's what we've become.

Friday, April 27, 2007

This just in

He's alive!

Oh yes, people, time to rejoice. Abe Vigoda is still alive!

Glad I could make everyone's Friday that much brighter.

***************************************************

In other news, my lil' band, Riveter, is playing two shows this weekend.

That's right — TWO SHOWS!

Tonight we're playing all night long at the Fruita Fat Tire Festival. We'll be rockin' out the tunes from 6 to 10 at that park in downtown Fruita (let's all say "Ooooohhha!" at my precise and detailed directions).

We played the Fat Tire Fest last year and we had a really good time. So we're looking forward to tonight.

Then tomorrow, we're playing an acoustic set — wha'? Riveter unplugged? 'the hell? — for the KAFM Vinyl Sale at the Mesa Theater.

The sale is a benefit for our local community radio station and we're one of three bands providing the background entertainment. This is going to be the first time we've attempted an acoustic set.

It's good to try new things.

Thursday, April 26, 2007

Bunny

Click over here to read about this member of our family.

Field trip

I spent this morning helping to escort Margaret's 1st grade class on a field trip to the Western Colorado Center for the Arts.

My parents often volunteered to go on field trips when I was in elementary school and I remember appreciating the fact that they helped out. So when Margaret brought home a notice saying they would be making this trip, I made sure that I could volunteer to help out.

The plan was to walk 21 first graders the approximately 10 blocks to the Art Center, have them participate in a couple of activities, then walk them back to the park where they would play and eat lunch, then head back to school.

I was concerned about the walking all those children all that distance without losing them or them tiring out or ... who knows with a bunch of 6 and 7 year olds.

But they did great. The stayed together and minded what the teachers were saying ... for the most part.
Here's most of them after we arrived at the art center. Look how it looks like they are behaving.

Amazed, I am.

And pleased.

Margaret's teacher did a great job keeping the kids on task. I don't envy her job.

Wednesday, April 25, 2007

Bouquet surprise!

It's Administrative Professionals Day — formerly known as Secretary's Day.

I never keep track of such things so it was a great surprise when these arrived this morning:
A lovely arrangement, indeed, made very interesting by two of these flowers:
I have never seen this type of flower before, but it's spiny strangeness makes them the coolest ever. I wish I knew what they are.

Irises



Tuesday, April 24, 2007

Open Letters

Dear Migraine Headache:

I don't mean to be rude, but I hate you! (And I truly do mean that exclamation point! ... and that one, too.) Actually, you deserve my rudeness.

I mean, really, what is the deal? Why do you have to be all coming back day after day burrowing your insidious self into my head and nagging every fiber of my being?

I waited as long as I could last night to take my last migraine pill, fighting waves of nausea like a crab boat on the Behring Sea (OK, maybe I do watch too much of "The Deadliest Catch"), to assure that I wouldn't be dealing with you again today — yet here you are, beating your drum over and over and over again, pounding that one spot just above my eye.

But you know that it's these kinds of migraines that get to me the worst, the ones that turn every thing I do into an excruciating exercise in will power and determination just to function like a normal person.

These are the migraines that grind me down and force me into submission, leaving me a sobbing heap on the floor wondering, "Why me?" in that pathetic way that I loathe.

When you've left and I feel like a normal person again, I joke that I get migraines because I'm a bad person. But when you've settled into your routine of punishment, I can't imagine what I could ever possibly do to deserve this torture.

What ever the reason, enough is enough. Leave already. Or at least subside until my next batch of pills come in the mail, so I have some kind of protection from your evilness. I'd much rather deal with the horrible side effects from the medication than from your pervasive pain.

Oh and you can kiss my third ass.

I've had enough,
RiveterGirl

Dear pharmaceutical manufacturers:

What in the hell do you put in migraine medications, like MaxAlt, Zomig, Imitrex, etc., that makes it cost almost $20 a pill? Gold? Titanium? Moon dust?

And since it costs more than most illegal drugs, why can't you package it so that poor saps like me can buy it a couple pills at a time?

Cut us poor migraine sufferers some slack already.

Really, make your money off Viagra.

Fer crying out loud,
RiveterGirl

Monday, April 23, 2007

It's a miracle!

Bill went out of town and I didn't whine about being home alone. Go me!

Bill took a group of students to a skills competition. It was a tough trip for him.

He's got an extremely full plate as it is and then he had to drive a group of high-school students (his own college students drove themselves) over the Continental Divide to Colorado Springs. When they got there, they had all kinds of software problems that caused him hours of extra work.

Click over here to read about how the competition ended up for Bill.

When he got home Saturday afternoon, he was utterly exhausted. He dozed most of the afternoon and then ended up going to be early.

He's still learning to live with his diabetes. Even though he can keep his glucose levels relatively low, he could really feel the effects of not drinking enough water and not eating the best foods.

But he's home now. Safe and sound. Thank goodness.

Friday, April 20, 2007

Dodging bullets

When I picked Margaret up from school yesterday, she was wearing a small, plastic, tooth-shaped box on a string around her neck. She had lost yet another tooth — she's up to 8 now.
She wore the necklace all evening long and we carefully put it under her pillow with the string hanging out just a bit, so it would be easier for the Tooth Fairy to get.

Mar was exhausted from a long day. She had to get up and get herself dressed early and come to work with me. She had a field trip and then Mar and I had a meet and greet meeting with the charter school people in the afternoon.

Thursday night's are always a day I look forward to as our dear Tracee Trace and I bask in the guilty pleasure that it Survivor — although neither of us scored even on point in our made-up Survivor game yesterday.

Usually, I work on the week's laundry Thursdays but I was just too run down. I went to bed early and read.

And I forgot about the Tooth Fairy completely.

At some point in the middle of the night, Margaret came in my bed. After I got out of the shower she was sitting on the edge of my bed with an excited look on her face

"Can I check under my pillow?" she asked.

Oh shit. I forgot.

Quickly, I said, "We gotta hurry this morning, so why don't you get dressed first." Then I rushed off and helped the Tooth Fairy with her tooth donation.

Then I came back into the bedroom with my toothbrush and said, "Oh, OK, go look."

Phew!

Thursday, April 19, 2007

Oh that darn weather

It's springtime and for us here in the Grand Valley, that means winds. We get some crazy-assed winds around here.

60 mph yesterday. Margaret's piano teacher said the roof on her covered porch started to lift off and all sorts of debris went a-flyin' all over town.

I had to leave Mar with our dear Tracee Trace while I went to band practice last night. Mar became infatuated with the stuff roaming around the 'hood. She opened the porch door to check out a tree skeleton that that had made its way into our yard and the wind caught the door taking Margaret with it.

She clung to the door and was sucked out much like those Mary Poppins wannabes with their umbrellas. Her grip slipped and she skidded down the concrete steps leaving her with this raspberry:

Needless to say, she's one sore little kid today.

Wednesday, April 18, 2007

Tuesday, April 17, 2007

Karma rivetergirl-style

So, like I said yesterday, I wrote a column about the problems we are having with Margaret's school. It ran in the paper Sunday.

Today I called Margaret's school to leave a message for her teacher saying I wanted to volunteer to help an upcoming field trip.

Do you think I could be so lucky as to have the nice secretary answer the phone?

Uh, nope.

The principal answered.

Gulp!

The first thing out of her mouth was, "We're so sorry to hear that Margaret won't be attending here next year."

What are the chances that one of the three times I've called in the last two years, I get the principal?

But that's how things seem to work for me.

I told her that we've decided nothing and that we don't even know what our options are for next year.

She did share with me that there would be multi-aged classes next year. To which I replied that Bill hates the idea of multi-aged kids. I'm not sure why he hates this idea so much, but a lot of schools use this model and I went to a school that had multi-aged classes.

Does anyone know what the advantages are?

Now, it seems that we're faced with a bunch of choices that we don't know anything about.

Gah! and double Gah!

Monday, April 16, 2007

Monday wrap-up

Yep, I'm wrapping things up on Monday this week. And why the hell not?
See, there is no good reason.

First, this:
Yes, Easter has passed but last week, Sexy Bunny Man (aka Markel d'Farkel) and his dear wife had to put down their kitty and it just didn't seem right to be exploiting his sexy bunny-ness during such a sad time for them.

And while it's still a sad time for them, Markel spent several hours at our house Saturday night kicking our asses at Guitar Hero II. My stepson left his PlayStation 2 at our house and we rocked the night away playing this game. It is so much fun and waaaaayyyy too addictive to be healthy.

Second, our trusty friend and sitter, Tracee Trace, mustered her non-contagious self and sat for us Friday night so Bill and I could go be the rock and/or rollers that we are.
Here's Bill on the harmonica during their cover of Love and Rockets' "No new tale to tell" while rhythm guitar player, Danny, fills in on Bill's bass.

Pretty flippin' sweet!

And here we are, rockin' our jumpsuits.

It's fun playing shows where we only have to do one set. We had a good time!

Third, I finished the quilt that my mom and I started last month. I took my time and it really came out nice:
Yes, the cats love it, too. You can put anything on the floor without at least one animal getting on it.

Here's how it looks on the futon where it's going to be living:
Just lovely! Thanks Mom!

Oh and click over here to read the Haute Mamas "Fun Monday" project.

Or click over here to read the column I wrote that ran on Sunday's opinion page. I've never felt so bad about being honest before. I basically spent the whole weekend trying to pretend like I didn't out my kid's school.

Gah! Who says honesty is the best policy?

Friday, April 13, 2007

Friday nonsense

It's Friday. Whoop de doo.

Both my and Bill's band plays tonight. Our dear friend, Tracee, was on deck to sit for Mar, but she went and got herself so sick that she couldn't even come over for Survivor night last night! (Hope you're feeling better soon, Tracee Trace!)

So we might not have a sitter. We'll have to figure something out. Fortunately we live close to the venue and we could do the ole switcheroo if we have to — leaving one of us at home to watch Mar while the other one plays.

Let's see ... oh, it's deviled egg day in the newsroom. So that's something to look forward to.

Yeah, that's all I got — eggs and illness.

Click here and read about the Fun Monday for the Haute Mamas.

Thursday, April 12, 2007

Lemonade

I could hear the train whistle as I drove back to work from lunch today.

I willed the light to turn green. It did, but it was too late. The railroad crossing arms had already descended. The lights were flashing.

"Zephyr ... please be the California Zephyr," I chanted over and over again hoping it was an Amtrak train instead of a long, slow, frequently stopping coal train.

It was a coal train.

Damn!

I pulled up to the crossing, put my car in park and pulled my copy of Amy Tan's The Kitchen God's Wife out of my bag.

Oh well, at least I had some time to start my latest read.

I love Amy Tan's books. I read "The Joy Luck Club" when Margaret was just a toddler and was taken by the honesty with which she wrote about mother-daughter relationships.

After reading for about 15 minutes, the end of the train was in sight. I closed my book and shoved it back in my bag. I slipped my shoes back and put the car into drive.

Sometimes the drive to work took 5 minutes, sometimes 20.

I used to get uptight about having to wait for the ever-present coal trains that snake through our valley. Now I just see them as providing a little time to relax and enjoy a good book.

Wednesday, April 11, 2007

Very special

Today on Haute Mamas, the heathen mom talks about religion. (Said in that whispery serious tone of voice only used by TV announcers and mothers who are trying to discipline their other children while the baby naps)

Gasp! The heathen mom discusses religion?

Oh dear reader, it's true. I, of my own volition, have engaged a topic about which I do not subscribe.

See how I am?

And to prove just how much of a rabble-rouser I am, I'm posting this picture ... again.


Two days in a row!!

And I'm doing it because I like this picture. I'm having it printed as I type and then I'm gonna frame it and then I'm gonna tell Bill everyday how much I like this picture and then he'll be all, "Uh, OK." and then I'll be all, "Why do you gotta be like that for?" and then he'll be all, "Well, it's a picture of a tiny pot of clover and a whistle." and I'll be all, "Yeah, that's why I like it." and then he'll think, "Okie dokie" but he won't actually say that, no, instead he'll just say, "OK." — see how he is?

Tuesday, April 10, 2007

Springtime anniversary

So not only did we celebrate Easter last weekend, but Bill and I also celebrated our 7th wedding anniversary on April 7th. 7th on the 7th, huh.

I didn't end up getting Bill the sling-shot man undies that I threatened here. Instead we went out and saw a bunch of local bands. It was fun — mostly, of course, because of Bill. He's a good time, fer sure.


Here are a couple of spring flower pics ... just because I like taking pictures of pretty things:

And my favorite picture of Bill. He looks all bright and shiny, yet I look like I took a mob hit to the nose:

Monday, April 09, 2007

Thank heavens for Spandex

For today's discussion, we will be examining the very popular Deadly Sin of: GLUTTONY!

Yep, gluttony!

Why? Oh, because I'm a gluttonous sack o' poo.

To celebrate Easter yesterday, our neighbors hosted a potluck — and it sucked!

Why, you ask again? Because our friends make food that is WAAAAAYYYY too good.

Way too good. Too good to not eat until I was horribly distended in every possible direction. Afterwards, I could only sit there and moan about how I'm a gluttonous sow.

(But it was — oh — so — good! Creamy, cheesy mashed potatoes ... channa dahl — oh, how I love you channa dahl ... pork and beef roasts with chutney AND au jus ... Easter candy, blah, blah, blah and more food words and more food talk. Yummy!)

So from about 4 p.m. until bedtime yesterday, Bill, Mar and I stacked ourselves on to the futon in our new little sitting room and clicked around the TV stations moaning and complaining about eating too much and passing too much gas ('cause we're all classy like that).

I didn't eat again until lunch today when I had a salad — which was still too much for my normally hearty constitution.

Gah! You Food! How dare you be so delectible.

And Gah! To my lacking sense of decorum, which should have stopped me after my second helping.

But Easter just isn't about violating the prohibition against the Seven Deadly Sins, it's also about candy and plastic eggs.

As per usual, Margaret and Kate got up early to search the yards for Easter eggs. While we adults were bleary eyed, the girls were blurry balls of activity fueled by anticipation of candy goodness:

Friday, April 06, 2007

So much for 'no gifts'

Look what I got sent to me at work today:
I know, Bill's so sweet. Why he even wants to stay married to me is a mystery! But I'm glad he does.

And just because it's Friday, here are a couple more pictures:

Holding Quincy's leash in this picture is newly-spayed Frida (or as we all say "F-wee-dah Nut Nut"). She survived her trip to the discount spay place ... who takes their pets to the fly-by-night discount surgery places?

Oh yeah, we do.

Thursday, April 05, 2007

It just ain't right

Saturday is Bill's and my 7th wedding anniversary.
Seven years ... that's the longest I've ever been married — by far.

We're going to go out to eat and see some local bands play downtown. I'm looking forward to having a night out in which neither Bill nor I are playing. It's been a while since he and I have had a date that didn't include a guitar.

We don't normally exchange gifts on our anniversary. But I owe him something nice — see, he's mad at me. I don't think it's a justifiable madness, but he's perterbed anyway.

Yesterday, I went with Bill to get his diabetes check up with our family doctor. Bill told the doctor that he's had a pain in his foot for a long time and while the doctor was checking it out, I offered up the cause of the ailment.

Bill hurt his foot while he and Davy were drunk skateboarding. I threw that tidbit into the discussion just to add some color to the story. Bill didn't think it was necessary to make the story more colorful.

Because Bill's been through so much lately, I thought I'd surprise him with a nice gift for our anniversary.

He needs a new swimsuit. I think I like this one:

My folks

My folks are back in the land of Califorinicators.

We miss them.

Wednesday, April 04, 2007

Mama Drama's challenge

Richie messaged me at work today saying that she was disappointed that she missed April Fool's Day because she would have liked to have pulled this prank on someone.

Basically, someone suggested that this woman had a bunch of bizarre tattoos and posted pictures of them. Today she revealed that they were, indeed, not her tattoos and said that some moms had admitted to having tattoos.

She also challenged other moms (and non-moms) to submit links to pictures of their own tattoos. So here are my tattoos:
I realized that the picture is totally skewed but I couldn't for the life of me take a better picture. There is just no easy way to photography one's own back.

Yep, I — like every other American female under the age of 27 — have ass antlers. But in my defense, I got inked the first time back before every red-blooded chick across the country decided it was the thing to do.

Lo those many years ago I thought I was all cool with my back tattoo, but then everyone jumped my train and now I'm just one of the crowd.

Oh well. I really like my tattoos. Don't know that I'll get anymore, but it's a possibility for sure.

Tuesday, April 03, 2007

Things you don't wanna know

My mom called me after she read this blog entry of mine and asked why my husband let me write such things about him. I told her that if he didn't do such things, then I wouldn't write about such things.

The following story is one that is completely self-indulgent and falls into both the "too much information" and the "why does your husband let you write such things" categories:

Last night before we fell asleep, Bill and I delved into a conversation about diarrhea (yeah, you can see that this is heading nowhere fast). I was complaining about the "butt pee" variety of diarrhea — you know the kind where it's like you're peeing out your butt. Yeah, butt pee.

Then Bill chimes in, "But butt vomit is worse."

"Butt vomit?" I incredulously ask.

He explained that "butt vomit" is the volatile form of truly liquid fecal material that explodes from ... uh, the human body at an incredibly high rate of speed — like your pooer was projectile vomiting. Bill accompanied this description with the sound, "phffffffffffffffffffffffffscht!" Sounding kind of like a faucet turned all the way to 11.

Because my sense of humor never develop beyond that of a 13-year-old boy, I began laughing hysterically at this and even asked him to make the noise again.

Today as I was using the facilities here at work, I began thinking about trying to recount that conversation here in this blog and was again struck by the humor in my husband describing "butt vomit"and could not for the life of me control the onslaught of laughter that ensued — which was really unfortunate in that I was still in the bathroom stall and really needed to get out and get back to work.

It took a couple of moments and many deep breaths (never a good thing in a pubic bathroom) to compose myself enough to be able to exit that stall and not appear as if I was some kind of freakish deviant who finds great joy and laughter in the process of relieving myself.

Fortunately, no one else was in the lavatory and could all my giggles to return as I exited the facilities without running into anyone else. Because explaining my joy of the restroom was one conversation that I didn't want to have.

Monday, April 02, 2007

I want to ride my bicycle

Sunday saw Bill and Sean going for a mountain bike ride — gah, I couldn't imagine a better way to ruin a perfectly good day than to ride on a strenuous and rock-laden path for no good reason. Mountain biking ... yeah, I just don't get it.

Margaret and I rode our bikes — yep, Margaret's riding her own bike now — down to the botanical gardens on paved, smooth road.

The gardens are so gorgeous. Read about it and see bunches of more photos over here.