Better, thanks

I'm feeling much better today. I think most people who come into contact with me can feel pretty safe that I'll behave in a civilized manner ... no promises though.

So. Yeah, what did you do over the weekend?

Oh yeah? Huh.

Me?

Bill and I painted our front porch. The. entire. thing. Floor to ceiling. Yes, the floor and the ceiling and the walls AND all 11, 8-paned windows. Yes, our porch has 11, 8-paned windows and we painted them all.

No, I don't have pictures because I was too busy painting.

I guess I should say I started painting them but Bill finished the job to the best of his ability, while I did all the cutting-in work and painting of the window sills and trim. Bill's painting skills are fine ... not great, not bad, just fine. The only thing that saved us from having to do hours of scraping was Bill's quest to put as little paint as necessary on the windows and this genius invention.

They are corner tape stickers and they worked great. Trying to tape all those flippin' corners is a pain in the buttocks, but these little beauties did the trick. They are kind of expensive at just under $5 a roll and a roll only includes 60 pieces which wasn't nearly enough ... we have 352 corners to paint.

352! Gah.

Luckily, we were able to reuse them over and over again ... because we're cheap like that.

So yeah, we spend half of the day Saturday painting (the morning was dedicated to Margaret's piano festival — she did awesome, thankyouverymuch) and All. Day. Long. Sunday. I finished painting the floor of the porch somewhere around 6:30 p.m. when it was too dark to really see what I was doing. But I was able to figure out how to not paint myself into a corner — literally.

And now it's done (for the most part).

We got rid of a bunch of crap we kept piled out there. It's amazing how WT we are and are now looking for a nice wide chaise lounge to put out there so I'll have yet another place to lie down.

Lying down rocks. Not painting rocks, too.

Stand back! It's gonna blow!

I'm irritated this morning.

There are a million things irritating me in ways that are making my blood pressure increase my already ginormous head to the size of a hot-air balloon.

Just so you know, it looks great on me. I can get away with a giant oblong head, just like Sara Jessica Parker gets away with her giant horsey face. Except that she has an amazing body and mine is like a bunch of lumpy pillows held together with wire coat hangers.

Yeah, that's irritating, too.

This morning I was trying to cancel a travel reservation for my boss using an online travel service. I kept getting an error message saying that I couldn't use Firefox and that I needed to use Internet Explorer.

I called the customer service rep and when I was explaining my problem, I actually said these words to her:

"It says I have to use Internet Explorer, instead of Firefox. That's like going from driving a car to hitting yourself in the face ... with a rock ... it's just plain stupid."

So, I'm trying to avoid being around me this morning. I'd suggest you do as well.

Inside joke

I posted this picture on my band's myspace account today.

I think it's funny for a bunch of reasons.

First, when Kelley started playing with us two years ago, she was surprised when I had to adjust her mic stand a whole bunch so I could use it. She said, "You're not that much taller than I am."

Yes I am. She's like 5'3." I'm just shy of 5'9."

She's wee — in a good way — but wee nonetheless.

So Saturday night at our show, I made Kelley go stand by the tall mic stand because I'm mean like that. Lookit her little arms all reaching up ... ha, ha.

Then I added the Diet Coke comment because on our way to Denver, Kelley wanted a can of Diet Coke. She didn't want a bottle or a jug, just a can. So she was delighted when the convenience store had cans of Diet Coke. But when she got the counter she had a can of Sprite in her hand.

She was shocked by this and exclaimed, "Who put this here? I hate Sprite. All I wanted was a Diet Coke."

Yeah, it's not as funny all written down, but believe me, I'm still busting a gut over that picture.

Poor Kelley, all she wants is a can of Diet Coke.

What do you like to do on your day off?

On Margaret's day off, she likes to give herself more school work. While she was out of school Tuesday, Mar wrote one of the best stories I've read in a long time. Click over here to read it.

It's a distinct possibility that in the future her neighbors will say that she was a quite woman who kept to herself a lot ...

She's a genius, or maybe an idiot savant

Margaret answered the phone last night and I heard her portion of the ensuing conversation:

Mar: Hello.

Pause.

Mar: Yes, Bob. Here just talk to my mom (said with disgust).

Hands me the phone.

It was my co-worker who had asked for me, then asked if she was indeed Margaret. Apparently asking her this caused disgust in her little 7-year-old brain.

But, the crazy thing was that Bob never identified himself. When I asked her how she knew it was Bob, she rolled her eyes and said, "I recognized his voice."

She'd never talked Bob on the phone before. She's seen him several times over the past six years though. I was surprised that she could recognize his voice on the telephone.

After prodding her some more, she finally stated, "I can tell anyone's voice." And then she proceeded to describe the voice quality of everyone she knew in graphic, mind-numbing detail.

It's those moments I wish I'd kept my mouth shut.

Not just anyone

I posted over here about how we're looking for a nanny. Now it seems that I should've said that we're looking for someone who's not a child molester, terrorist or a person who sells children for lion bait.

Meme thing

I woke up with the worst migraine I've had in a long time. So instead of writing about the fun we had playing music Saturday or about how we didn't get shot outside a club two miles from where we played or about how friendly but unhelpful the drunk people were in Denver, I'm throwing down a meme.

What?

Memes are cool.

OK, but it's better than nothing, right?

The rules are simple yet difficult:

1. Change the italicized word.
2. Insert your own answer
3. The answer must be one word and one word only. Uno. One-o. No cheating!

Hearing: Heater
On Your Desk/Workspace: Dwight
Outside: Light
Your Eyes: Bespectacled
You Wish Some People Would: STFU
Before This You Were: Editing
On Your Feet: Loafers
What Makes You Feel Shitty: Anger
What Soothes You: Bill
Color of Your Refrigerator: Almond
Number of People You Share a Bathroom With: Two
Your First Boyfriend/Girlfriend: Uh?
Your Favorite Kind of Bread: Nut
On Your Mind: Death
Something You Have to Complete: Painting
Your Last Medical Appointment: Lump
You Want To Be: Satisfied
You Wish You Knew More About: Parenting
The Superpower You'd Choose: Patience
Your Last Purchase: Shirt
You Don't Like to Watch:Fighting
Your Idea of Relaxing: Laughing
Last Thing You Forgot: Conditioner
After This: Work

One-word Sarcomical Sunday courtesy of ... Sarcomical!

More new stuff

Four brand new songs on a uber cute mini CD (which plays in any CD player ... really!) and all for only $5! Five bucks! What a deal!

And these songs kick ass.

Number 1 is Creepy Girl which is about a girl who like this band so much it just ain't right. That band may or may not be the Supersuckers and the girl may or may not be me. Laurena and I wrote the majority of this the lyrics on the way back from Salt Lake City after seeing the 'Suckers and Social Distortion.

The second song is a hard-rockin' little ditty , In My Skin. La wrote the lyrics. We all collaborated on the music. It has deep meaning, I'm sure. That song kicks ass, fer reals. I love what our producer/drummer/band boy did with Kelley's vocals on this one. Supa awesome.

Number 3 is La Diabla and this one was written by Kelley, music and all. I love all the songs on this disc, but I think this one if my favorite because it's all wah-wah and all grungy in a most beautiful way. Plus Kelley sings this one like it's a torch song. Just beautiful.

The last song, Wrong Dream, is partially inspired by my antics at one of Bill's shows. Lyrics by Laurena and she and I collaborated on the music. It's our quirky song and is super fun.

We're very pleased with this CD and we're even more thrilled to have them for our show in Denver tomorrow night.

Riveter's going to Denver! Watch out Front Range!

Mmm, candy day

I love the day after Halloween.

Everyone has their left over candy sitting around and people are all, "Here, eat my candy."

And I'm all, "OK."

It's awesome.

Then there's Margaret's candy booty from her trick-or-treating expedition.

Lookit that candy. It's all the good stuff. Our neighbors rock!

Mar had a great Halloween and I did, too. You can read more about it over here.

And just look how cute Mar was in her cool cheerleader costume:
The little ghosts below are Tootsie Pops dressed up for the night. I stuck them in the little pumpkins. For a long time last night, Frida, our calico kitty sat with the pumpkins looking all Halloweeny. I couldn't figure out how to get a picture of her before some trick-or-treaters tried to get her into their bags.

Mmm bacon

Free bacon machine — at least that's what the graffiti says. Click here to see what the heck I'm talking about.

Almost as good as Thanksgiving

I love any occasion that would cause the people in my office to organize a potluck. Luckily Halloween is just one of those occasions.

Potlucks here aren't like they are in other offices I've worked in. Here they start at 8 a.m. and go until the food's gone.

This morning I had homemade biscuits and gravy along side an egg casserole. For breakfast dessert I had zucchini bread.

For lunch, so far I've had chicken and rice soup, posole, yummy pecan salad and some of the hottest salsas I've ever tasted.

I can't wait for lunch dessert!

Click over here to see some Halloween goblins.

Reading is fundamental

I think I've mentioned before that I always have to have a book to read. I carry a big bag around to accommodate my book du jour.

While flying home from Washington D.C., I finished the book my dear friend, Kristen, lent me, Dishwasher. (Click the link and check out the "Jess on Letterman" button. That part of the story is awesome.)

While in the Denver airport, a short one-hour flight from home, I had to find a book to read — not having a book to read in my possession makes me start to panic. I hate having spare time and knowing that I could be reading something.

I headed to a news stand and looked over their selection. I started to panic again, almost more than not having a book to read, I hate having to actually pay money for books.

I have never willingly re-read any book. There are so many out there that I can't see going back over a story I already know and because money is always a issues, I can't see spending a lot of money on novels.

Mostly I borrow books from friends. One friend, in particular, has a similar taste to my own and he lends me books all the time.

I also get books from work. Publishers, hoping for some free publicity in the form of a book review, send copies of books to the newspaper all the time. I get to pick from the leftovers.

Because I'm not that picky, the borrowing and scavenging for books works out pretty well for me. And when those sources fail me, my trusty library card comes to the rescue.

This morning I finished the thriller that I bought in the airport last week and I don't have another book lined up yet. Luckily I have a few unread freebies on my desk, so I won't have to panic.

It seems strange to me know, but there used to be a time when I wasn't much of a reader. I'd read a book now and then, but it wasn't a compulsion like it is now. But as far as compulsions go, this is one I don't mind so much.

A season to scare

I posted over here about the celebratin' o' the 'ween. There are pictures. Go on click it.

We love passing out blank checks

Friday Margaret didn't have school, so we had made arrangements for her to go back to her old preschool/daycare facility for the day. Because Bill doesn't have formal classes on Friday, he was the one who dropped her off and picked her up.

I had this conversation with Bill this morning:

Me: How much was the check for Margaret's daycare Friday.

Bill: (pause) Um, what do you mean, you made out the check.

Me: (getting heated) No, I wrote the name of the school and signed it. You had to fill in the amount. I don't know what they charge for one day.

Bill: No, you filled out the check and I just gave it to them.

Me: (boiling sounds in my ears) Dude, you gave them a blank check.

Bill: I just gave them the check.

Me: Yes, you gave them a blank check.

Bill: I'll call them to find out how much they made the check out for.

Me: Thanks because I won't be able to balance the checkbook if they bought a new church van with that check.

Luckily for us, Margaret's former preschool/daycare is a Christian facility associated with a church and they only filled the check out the amount for one day of care.

So I guess the moral of the story is: Don't give blank checks to my husband, but if you do make sure it's made out to a bunch of Christians.

Friday stuff

Look, I made a poster for our show next weekend:

Ooooohhhah! A poster.

And lookit this:
We have new shirts. (I designed those, too.) You can buy one.

Um, let's see ... Oh, my friend, Tracee and I play a Survivor game and finally after two seasons of getting my ass kicked, I'm still ahead this season. There's hope for me yet.

K. Uh, yeah, that's all I got.

A Story by Margaret

Yesterday, Bill and I attended Margaret's parent-teacher conference. It was awesome. I wanted to kiss her teacher, the school psychologist and the gifted-and-talented teacher, they had such great things to say about Mar.

She is having a great year and is doing well in all subjects. And not having any of the "having trouble keeping her hands and feet to herself" problems that she had before. When I mentioned that this was a problem before, her teacher was shocked and said that her behavior is excellent. Hurray, for not having a grabby kid anymore!

Below is a story that Mar wrote, typed and illustrated in class.

Page 1

Sorry, Mark, Kristen and Bill that y'all got nothing but browned out faces.

Page 2

We actually saw two Porcini mushrooms, but Parcheesis sound like a good time, no?

And yes, Mark is amazingly brave. Thanks for risking life and liver to taste test those mushrooms, Mark.

Page 3

Puff Balls are pretty sweet with all their puffing skillz.

Page 4It's true, we were amazed. And what's great is that we get to be continuously amazed by our daughter every day.

It can't be ALL that bad, right?

Dentist: OK, that should do it.

Me: gurgle, slurp, ick

Dentist: (in the same "all done" tone) You're going to need a root canal on that one. The decay was so deep I couldn't get it all without disturbing the nerve.

Me: glick, gulp

Dentist: (again with the "it's sun shiny bright" tone) You can make an appointment for the root canal and then come back to us for the crown.

Me: 'the hell? (I just kept this in my brain as my mouth was too numb and sore to actually speak.)

Receptionist: After you get the root canal, come back December 19 for the build up and crown.

Me: Well, merry Christmas to me.

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

I posted over here about my kid and that horrible sound that keeps coming out of her face.

Mar in D.C.

I just discovered Picnik — it's a free (so far) photo editing site. It allows you to make cool photos and it's easy.

These few photos were taken from in front of the National Gallery:

I love the above picture and the look on Mar's face.

I posted this one on the Haute Mamas blog, but I like it, plus I added the cool, blue vignette effect:
Another one from outside the Capitol building.And one of Bill and Mar. Let's all say it together now .... Awww!

Overheard

Margaret is sick. I had to pick her up from school today and bring her back to my office.

As she and I were walking past a co-worker's desk, Margaret overheard her answer the phone.

Mar: Why did Rita answer the phone, "Appetizing, this is Rita"?

Me: (snort) She said, "Advertising, this is Rita."

"Appetizing" is way funnier. I'm going to suggest that to Rita.

D.on't C.ount on seeing everything ... ever

I think D.C. is an acronym to remind people that after you walk around trying to fit in as much of the amazing sights as you can, that you'll be D.own for the C.ount. Bill is still not done complaining about his shin splints.

Click over here to read about our tour of the Capitol and to see some pictures.

In hog heaven

I had to stop myself from throwing myself across the threshold of the National Gallery of Art and weeping openly this afternoon.

I love the National Gallery so much Margaret actually asked me this as we walked through those hollowed halls today:

Mar: "Do you love being here more than you love me?"

Of course not, but that National Gallery is pretty high on the list of things I love.

One of my favorite moments was while we were standing in a gallery with portraits by John Singer Sargent, James McNeill Whistler and Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres. I am in awe of them all. Margaret decided she liked this one by Ingres the best.

Ingres rocks and I was super impressed that she was drawn to any of them, let alone the one by Ingres. Super awesome.

It's been more than 12 years since I've been to D.C. and all the treasures it holds. It has been wonderful revisiting all the places I grew to love while in graduate school. Plus I'm seeing some things I never saw before, like the National Zoo.

Mar and I spent all morning trudging past cool animal after cool animal. Much to Margaret's relief, we got to see the giant panda. It was really the only thing that she wanted to do while we are here in the nation's capital.

But we also saw some crazy giant fish from the Amazon.


This fish is way bigger than I am and I'm not embarrassed to admit that it freaked me out a bit. I pretended it didn't because I wanted Mar to enjoy the exhibit. Now there's some good mama skillz.

After a long day of walking hither and yon, Mar and I joined Bill and his colleagues for a dinner on the waterfront. We ate at a seafood place that had an all-you-can-eat seafood buffet. I ate so many different kinds of fish that I don't even know the names of them all.

Mm seafoody goodness.

I can't wait for tomorrow.

Traveling with kids

Me: You can pick from any of these restaurants for dinner.

Mar: Oh goody. Let's eat at McDonald's.

Me: That's not even an option. We didn't just travel 1,400 miles to eat McDonald's.

Mar: But it looks different than our McDonald's at home. Maybe it had different food.

Me: Trust me, it's the same.

Mar: How do you know? Have you eaten there?

Me: Yes, I've eaten at every McDonald's in the world.

Mar: Lucky.

Now that's rock 'n' roll

Last night we had band practice like we do every week. We practice at Scott and La's house in Scott's studio. The studio is really set up nicely and we are able to really hear ourselves and practice effectively.

We were working through our set for our Denver show and playing our little hearts out when I noticed that someone had opened the door.

A man stood in the doorway looking expectant. I signaled to La as she was closest to the door. She stopped playing and took off her headphones to talk to this guy.

Then we all stopped playing and watched as Scott got served a court summons.

Oh yeah, rock 'n' roll, baby.

Photoessay: Why Fall Rocks!

New songs ... that you can buy

Oh, we're not just cute, we're all high tech, too.

Our trusty fill-in drummer and permanent recording technician/producer/savior of our girl band, Scott, spent the majority of his weekend recording drum tracks and mastering four brand spanking new Riveter songs.

We decided — at the last minute, as we're prone to do — that we should have new EP to take with us to our Denver show at the beginning of November.

I busted my hump and created a design that we all liked for the face of the disk. (I tried to post the disc graphic but Blogger is constipated or something. I'll try again later.) And now we have the audio tracks done.

You can click over to our myspace and hear them over there.

Or you can slide on over to the right here and purchase them all (plus the four from our previous EP) for $.99 each.

I know, we're super high tech.

Watch out, we're hot right now. And it feels so good!

I got a fever

I got a fever ... Rockies fever! Click over here to read about it.

No excuses

OK, that's twice this week that I never had a moment to write a decent post for this blog. I'm skidding along at warp speed these days.

This week most of my spare moments have been spent working on graphics for the band. We decided that we'd like to have some new shirts to take to our Denver show. We still have some with an old design that we like, but we wanted something that was more representative of who we are now, as a band.

I struggled for a couple of days trying to come up with a simple white design to go on a black t-shirt. The more I worked, the more I began to hate everything. Finally, I just sent the designs to the girls and made them pick one.

Here's what we're going with:

Good choice, no? We're so cute and now we have the shirts to prove it.

Blur

It's all a blur, these days. I have so many irons in the fire, it's no wonder that I don't spontaneously combust.

After teaching a freshman-level art appreciation class for six years, I've been invited to each an upper-division, art-history class.

So next fall, I'll be lecturing on Neoclassicism, Romanticism and Impressionism, 19th century art. In. Depth. No more glossing over topics and throwing out sound bites. Of course, it's going to be a whole shit-pot full of work, but I'm fine with that. Lately, I've been all about art.

I've been reading text books and flipping through art picture books obsessively. And soon I'm going to get a huge dose of art in that we're going to Washington D.C.

Bill's got a conference for the National Science Foundation grant he and his team won. He goes every year, this time Margaret and I are tagging along.

I went to grad school a mere three hours from D.C. and spent many a weekend touring the museums and galleries. But it's been years, many, many, way too many, so I'm very excited.

And ever since our trip to the Denver Art Museum in February, Margaret has been all about going to museums. Plus our hotel is a block away from the national zoo and they have a baby panda there, so she's stoked.

Gooooo Art! (Yeah, my dork status remains intact.)

I don't feel so good

My gut is hosed. I've been all ... um, icky all weekend long. I'll avoid sharing the disgusting details. Needless to say, I was sofa bound all day Saturday and much of Sunday. Click over here to read about how I spent my sick Saturday.

I also posted a great picture of Mar taken Friday night while we were celebrating our dear friend Special K's birthday.

I was starting to feel better but then one of my co-workers forced me to try her new oatmeal chocolate-chip cookie recipe. Gah! The sacrifices I make for others. The cookies were amazingly delicious, but my gut is on strike, so now I pay.

Smugness

Him: "See. It was just a low tire. There was no need to be all hanging up the phone on me."

Me: "If I hadn't hung up the phone on you, would you have rushed over here and fixed my car?"

Him: "No. But now all those people I was sitting with think you're a bitch."

Me: "I am a bitch. A bitch with a fixed car."

Margaret's not stupid or weird either

It's true that kids do say the darnest things. Click here to read a quite brilliant Margaret-ism.

Not dead yet

As I said yesterday, a cloud of gas has been released upon us. Now it's looking like it's not propane but the smelly gas they add to propane so that it can be smelled in case of a leak.

That gas is call mercaptan.

The gas companies say that it is harmless to humans. The toxicology people suggest otherwise. The Agency for Toxic Substance and Disease Registry that states that mercaptan is indeed toxic.

But it might not be mercaptan as it seems that the junk yard from where the gas originated is not saying that it could be from some unidentified liquid.

In the meantime, gas clouds are floating within two miles of the junk yard. Those two miles include my place of employment and my house. So I'm getting gassed from all angles.

There's going to be a press conference shortly to announce whether we're all going to die a slow death from liver failure or not.

We've been breathing in these noxious fumes for three days now and many of us are complaining of sore throats, dizziness, fatigue and headaches. My migraine finally broke this morning after my fourth dose of Max-Alt.

It will be interesting to see how this turns out. But there are a lot of us looking to form a posse and string up those jokers at the junk yard. Yee haw.

Gassed

Yesterday employees at a local junk yard were cutting open some old propane tanks. Unfortunately, at least one of them was not empty and they released a ginormous cloud of propane on the lower downtown area. My office is located within a couple blocks of this junk yard.

The cloud of propane descended upon us with the fervor of a group of 2nd graders on a box of Oreos. We didn't have a chance.

The gas poured into our building quickly and all of a sudden we all could smell the disgusting scent which is added to propane.

We quickly abandoned ship but it was really like jumping out of the frying pan into the fire as the gas cloud hung outside our building like a junkie near a needle exchange. Many of us were sickened by the smell and by breathing those fumes.

The fire department was called, but due to construction and a train blocking the tracks, they were delayed. Finally they arrived and located the source of the gas cloud.

When it was determined to be carelessness by the junk yard employees we filed back into the building. But it was still full of propane. I quickly got a headache and left work early.

I was sick all night long with a headache. Around 3 this morning, I was up trying not to puke. Bill tried to help by talking really loud and clicking the TV channels to the most noisy and visually jarring shows — because he's helpful like that. After choking on some vomit, I decided it was time to head back to bed where I slept with an ice pack on my head.

Good times.

I groggily got up and made my way to work, only to find our building still chock full o' propane gas. Luckily for me, my desk sits in an underventilated nook so I got to breath in gassy fumes all morning — more good times.

My hands and feet when numb and I tried to pass out a couple of times ... you know, just to keep the good times rolling, but the office eventually started to air out.

Now after having breathed in those volatile fumes for far too long, I began thinking about the sorry sacks o' poo that huff this stuff. Whatever high we may have gotten from this stuff was counteracted by an extraordinary headache and nausea. Why not just get your foot run over by a bus instead?

For all those that think Mar looks just like me

According to MyHeritage.com she looks equally like Bill and me.


Check out this celebrity look alike doo-hicky:




And that's not all, watch me morph into Kate Hudson:

%1

Now, I'm gonna go morph Bill's face ... oh fun for the whole family!

OK, I had to add Bill's celebrity look-a-likes because his birthday bro, Antonio Banderas is included in his list. Coincidence?

Saying goodbye

Sniff, sniff. I'm sad that it's over. I wish it could've lasted longer. I was having such a good time.

But all good things must come to an end.

So this morning, I'm saying goodbye to VH-1's Rock of Love.

I'm surprised at how much I loved this show. It was a train wreck from the get go, but what a beautiful train wreck it w

Last night's finale saw 43-year-old, '80s rocker, Bret Michaels chose 23-year-old hairdresser/bartender, Jes over 32-year-old stripper, Heather.

And I guess once you go on one of these faux dating shows, you get to be whatever you want after. If you look at Heather's myspace page, she touts herself as a "Model and Television Personality." Well, good for her. But what's wrong with being a stripper? She needs to own her stripperness and be the best stripper she can be.

Imagine the cash she could be pulling down now that she's a celebreality star. It's ashame indeed.

So, where's Jes now? According to her myspace page, she's doing appearances at Illinois bars with other Rock of Love girls. Neet.

It's all just so glamorous.

OK, it's not glamorous and more than a bit sad, but oh how I'm going to miss Rock of Love.

Fast Friday

I posted over at the Haute Mamas about Margaret's school pictures. Check it out.



Get a little God into your work out. (Thanks, Markel!)

I didn't forget ...

to update yesterday, I just ... uh, um, you know, didn't think of it until I was on my way to band practice last night. Doh!

I guess I was too busy working and grading exams yesterday to fulfill my blogging obligations. Believe me, I will try really hard to make sure that work never gets in the way of my blogging obligations again!

Yesterday was Goddess La La's birthday. Kelley made cupcakes and brought them to practice and we gave her a gift. That's the cool thing about being in our little girl band — we give each other gifts on our birthdays. We've been told that this is not a common practice.

We're working a couple news songs and a new cover for our upcoming show in Denver. We're really excited about this show. We're at a great venue, Cricket on the Hill. And we're playing with some kick-ass bands.

The guy who booked the show is in one of the bands playing that night, the S.O.B.s. I contact this band, not because I know them but because they opened for the Supersuckers when the 'Suckers played Denver.

Good idea, I know.

So, we getting our second CD done and getting ready for this show and have a blast doing it. So double Woot! to being in a girl band (even if we have to play with a boy)!

Cuz I ain't smart enough

to keep my big mouth shut — click over here to find out if Margaret's school's PTO threw old fruit at me.

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

Whiz. Whiz. The days are just whizzing by now. I've had to close all of our windows because as refreshing as fresh air is, shivering through my morning just ain't no fun.

It started raining Sunday with a vengeance proving that fall is, indeed, here.

Our neighbors have their Halloween decorations up which is festive. I've tried to buy seasonal decorations, but I just can see forking out good money for plastic witches with straw brooms.

I'm just not a Styrofoams pumpkin kind of gal. I wonder if my lack of seasonal decorating will be one of the things that Margaret has to work through with her therapist?

A day off and a night out

Margaret had the day off school Friday and I did something that I rarely do ... I took the day off and I had no plans to do anything. at. all.

We slept in Friday morning. I didn't even hear Bill when he left for work. Then we did something else that I rarely do ... I shopped.

Shopping usually makes me irritable and tired. But Mar and I actually had fun. And I got a new formal outfit to wear to hoo-ha Saturday night.

(Notice nice segue from the "day off" story to the "night out" story — oh yeah, I'm slick.)

So Saturday night Bill and I attended a gala thrown by the hospital for which Laurena works. She had a couple empty chairs at their table and she knows how we love ourselves some free dinner, so it didn't take much to twist our arms.

I was just going to wear one of the handful of formals I already own, but the fact is I'm old now and it's time I started dressing like the old heifer that I am. So I found myself a nice dress that covers up all the mom flab on my arms and glosses over my flabby midsection.

And because we're dorks of the most magnificent magnitude, we had Tracee (who sat for us Saturday night) take some pictures before we left.

The answer is "No" we can't ever act right.

Can't type ... reading

I always have a book that I'm reading. Sometimes it's literature, sometimes it's trash, mostly it's somewhere in between.

What ever book I'm reading is always in my bag which I carry everywhere. I'm afraid that I'll end up somewhere with nothing to do, so I always drag whatever book I'm reading around with me. (Yes, my neuroses do run deep.)

Right now I'm reading the latest in Preston and Child's Agent Pendergast series. I love these books. They definitely aren't high literature but they are a fun read. They're always polished and sophisticated without being dry. Not too much detail, but enough to paint a rich picture.

The only problem with these books is that when I'm reading one of these books, I don't want to be doing anything else. I've even gone to bed early a couple of times this week so I could read.

I love it when a book grabs my attention like that, when the characters float around in my head and I wonder what's going to happen next ... and on that note, I'm going to go read.

Survivor dorks ready?

So yeah, I've mentioned before that I'm a huge Survivor dork. Yes, I've watched every season. I love this show for oh-so many reasons.

And because my dear friend, Tracee-Trace, is also a lover of Survivor we invented a game we play. (I'm sure I've mentioned it here before, but I can't even begin to remember when that was.)

Each week, I type up a list of questions such, as "What color shirt will Jeff Probst be wearing the first time we see him?" or "Who will be the first person to have a body part fuzzed out?" (If you've watched the show, you know I'm talking about inevitably someone's pants fall down or someone's shirt rides up and certain body parts must get fuzzed out.)

Then we watch the show and grade our ballots and keep score. This will be the third season we've played this game. So far Tracee has won, hands down, both seasons.

So the new season starts tomorrow and we're taking the game to a new level.

OK, the game is actually not going anywhere, but to make it easier for us, I printed out all the players' bios and pictures. Then I tacked them onto a large board so we can ... uh ... be bigger dorks ... and that is after all the purpose of the game.

So woot to a new season of Survivor!

Better than Santa

Yesterday after work, Bill took Margaret to our friends' birthday party. I had to go to class.

As I was leaving for campus, I noticed that we finally got our mail. In it was a small package addressed to me from my mom. I turned to go back inside when I noticed that I didn't have my keys, but Bill's work keys. Doh!

I had 15 minutes until my class started and no keys. I ran next door hoping to use the spare set they keep. Jenn couldn't find the set, but she did lend me Kate, who is still small enough to fit through our dog door.

Kate saved the day. She shimmied through the tiny door and let me in. I found my keys and dashed off to class. Half way there I remembered the package from my mom.

I wasn't expecting anything so my curiosity was piqued. After class I rushed home and ripped open the padded envelope.


This sweet necklace was inside with a note that said "just because."

How completely perfect! Best part of my whole day.

Coincidence? I think so.

I love coincidences. Coincidences are fun for me (I know, I know, I should get out more).

Take this coincidence:

One of my oldest friends ended up moving to Seattle to attend grad school at the University of Washington. After working as an environmental engineer for several years, she decided that she wanted a change, so she decided to go to massage school.

At the same time that she was starting massage school in Seattle, a friend that I met here in Colorado decided that he needed a change, so he moved to Seattle to attend massage school — the very same massage school.

Coincidence? Yes ... but it's still interesting, no? Oh, I think it is.


So here's another one:

Today is the birthday of five of our friends. Five.

And of those five, three are triplets and the other two are twins.

Yes, we know a set of triplets and a pair of twins who share a birthday. What are the chances of that?

I have no idea, but it sure does make it on to my list of interesting coincidences.

Treading water

I wrote about how Margaret's taking swim lessons over here.

Even though the addition of yet another activity makes my anxiety percolate, I realized yesterday that for those 30 minutes that she's in her class. I get to sit, stretched out on a lounge chair and read ... or not read.

If only I didn't fear the drool, I'd probably sneak in a cat nap. The indoor pool is all humid and warm and just ripe for the napping. Maybe I'll try it next week.

Mm, napping, doesn't that sound wonderful? I'm completely exhausted because evil Bill forced me to stay up and watch the newest episode of Top Chef. Damn those cooking show!

Japanese funniness

It's human Tetris.



I love the looks on their faces when they see the shapes coming up. Awesomey hilarious.

Now hang on one minute, Mr. Fall

Monday is my long day, in that I work all day then race home, eat dinner then head off to lecture a group of college students for a few hours. But I don't mind so much.

I enjoy teaching, for the most part. And this semester I decided that I'd ride my bike to campus every Monday. It's a short ride and there's no good reason that I shouldn't take my beloved Electra out for a spin.

It's been working out great so far. But something startled me this week. When I got done lecturing and closing up shop for the evening, it was dark outside.

Gasp. Dark at 8:30 in the evening? Why that just ain't right.

The change of the seasons always surprises me. I guess that comes from being raised in the San Francisco-Bay Area where it's always 60 degrees and sunny.

Plus it seems like summer lasts forever here. And that's not really a complaint. Yeah, it gets blistering hot, but summer is so much fun.

But now the fruit is all ripe and overflowing the bins at the farmer's market and the days are getting shorter.

I rode my home in the dark Monday night, using my bike's light to guide my way. The temperature was absolutely perfect for a nighttime ride and I grinned the whole way home. I try to act casual, like I'm one of those people who always rides their bike, but I can't.

I'm clumsy and awkward and I grin. It's obvious that I enjoy riding a little too much.

Where did she learn the word "buttock" anyway?

Margaret was horsing around after her nightly shower the other night. She was trying not to put her pajamas on and was walking on her hands and feet with her bare bum in the air.

After we implored her to get dressed, she cried out, "I'm a walking buttock."

Indeed.

Superfunny

It was a quiet weekend around the Rivetergirl homestead. Bill had to catch up on some work and I took it upon myself to get more of the trim painted on our house (the house of the never ending painting projects - ick).

I worked on getting the front and back steps painted Saturday morning.

Don't the steps look nice. Yes, they do, thank you very much.

In the afternoon, we hired a sitter to watch Mar while we did something that we very rarely do — we went to the movies. And we didn't take Mar because we saw an adult movie ... well, it was really an adolescent movie with themes wholly inappropriate for a child, but terribly appropriate for for adolescent-mined adults like ourselves.

We saw Superbad.

This movie was chock full of juvenile humor that many find distasteful. We — and everyone else in the theater that day it seemed — found it hilarious. I think I pulled a muscle laughing. And I know Bill has a bruise on his leg from where I kept slapping him. Oh man.

Funny stuff.

Giant donutty goodness

Click here to see the giant donut.

Kid stuff

Click over here to see how clever my kiddo is.

Oh and happy Friday.

I got nothing

I could do a little whining about stuff like my back hurts, I'm tired, blah, blah, blah. But what's the point of that so instead I'll tell you this:

I Like Killing Flies is now one of my most favorite movies ever.

We've totally been into documentaries for a while now and this is the cream of the crop. I won't go into what it's about because the subject matter is so far from the point. Just go watch this movie — it'll make you want to go to New York City just for breakfast.

— AND —

I totally feel like this cat so much lately.


Why won't people just let us lie down, ffs.

More mushroom madness

I've gotten a few comments about my mushroom pictures. And because I aim to please, here are more mushroom pictures than you've ever wanted to see.

And no, I have no idea what any of these are.

Thanks again to Markel and Special K for showing us the 'shroomin' ropes.

'Shroomin'

We made a quick trip on the mesa this weekend in search of some fungi. Plus it'd been a while since anyone threw rocks at me. Click here to read more.