Is this normal?

I've been asked to help register people for the MHS class of '97 ten year reunion. I can dig it. Especially because my ten year will be next fall and then the officers of the class of '97 are obligated to help us throw our bash.

The weird part is, they also asked me to recruit any other class members who may be willing to help. I have one, only one, active phone number for someone in my graduating class from high school. Is that really possible? I think I need a reunion.

I guess the good news is that one number isn't random. It's on speed dial. Love you, Kara.

Pickle breath

I love living in Michigan.
I can't think of any other place that reminds you of your breath so often.
Sometimes by air so cold and harsh that it takes your breath away.
Other times, like today, the air is so hot and thick and muggy that it hits the back of your throat and stays there.
Living 0.3 miles from the pickle factory makes these days even more fun. Not only do you have a wad of hot, sticky air caught in your throat, it also reeks of pickles.
Yum.

news is best filtered through a 4 year old

This news is making a pretty big splash today.
I did a little digging and found really vocal people on both sides of the fence. The "fence" of course being whether or not these toys are good things, or sacrilegious things, or lame enough to not qualify for either.

I wonder what I would have thought had I not met Isaac a month ago. Isaac is almost 5 and very outspoken and precocious. I met him at a shoot we did where we asked preschoolers "What does Jesus look like?"

Isaac said, "A porcupine!"
I asked, "really?"
He said, "NO, silly! I was teasing. Everyone knows Jesus has long dark hair, a white robe with a blue sash. And he smiles a lot."

It wasn't the first "blue sash" response we got. As a crew, some of us thought that strange, others said - "of course he wore blue!"

Isaac was such a ham in front of the camera that we asked him to stay and sit with our next interviewee, Brandon, who was very shy.

Brandon's answer to everything was "I don't know."
Isaac was a good encourager, but we couldn't get anything else out of Brandon.

So, we gave the boys their ice cream compensation and sent them on their way.
I was surprised a half hour later when Isaac returned.
He marched right up to me and said, "I have something for you."
He presented his hands - in one, a GI Joe figurine.
In the other, this -













I immediately thought, "so that's the blue sash!"
Isaac's mom told him to tell me why he brought it.

He said (I'll never forget this moment):
Because I can't believe there are kids who don't know about Jesus. I want you to show this to the other kids today, so they can at least know what he looks like.

I offered to take a picture so he could keep his toy.
He refused by saying, "That's okay. I know all about Jesus. I think I better share him."

So I guess the bottom line is - yeah, having the figurine in my office elicits quite a few sacrilegious comments during the week. But all in all, I think it's a pretty good thing. Even if he's the whitest Jesus I've ever seen, with a cheerleader face, and clean feet. Sharing him has to start somewhere.

One more before I go

Have you seen this?!
I don't know why I love it, I just do.

One for Freud

Keith: "I had weird dreams last night"
me: "like what?"
Keith: "I got sent to Reform School"
me: "by who?"
Keith (in a whiny-how-could-you-voice): "yoooou!"

I'm a cliche addict

An actual sentence (with one minor edit) from an e-mail I sent to a co-worker today:

Just want to put it on your radar – once we’re through the woods on xyz project, can you please put ironing out the kinks on this one on your priority list?

I wish I would have said "front burner" instead of priority list.
Sometimes I work pretty hard at these kinds of things. This one, I'm proud to say, came quite naturally.

Lesson learned

Cats don't get hiccups.
When holding a cat, if she starts to hiccup, get her off your lap before she throws up on you.
Thanks for the lesson, Phoebe.

my new favorite game

One of the things I love most about my husband is that he forces me to take life less seriously.
He has an ability to make me laugh and play like no one else I know.
When he's driving and we go through a drive-through window and I dare him to say stupid stuff, he ALWAYS says it. That used to be my favorite game.
Tonight, I needed to buy a CD. I don't know why. Maybe it had something to do with going to a high school graduation open house - something in me needed a green altima driving through Grand Haven with a new CD.
I figured I could do one out of the three.
So I took a gamble and bought a CD I knew nothing about except I'm pretty sure Wassa liked it... Ani Difranco.
We had a half hour ride home and no CD player in the car.
Keith sang the lyrics... like Johnny Cash, Kermit the Frog, a gangsta rapper, Adam Sandler, and the list goes.
Oh, how I love him.

Vacay

One con to working with your husband, but with 5 years more seniority, is that our vacation time doesn't exactly line up.

Doesn't mean I'm willing to give mine up.
So...
I'm taking a vacation.
Last week in August.
I have no plan and no budget.
Any ideas?
Can I come to your house?! :)

and you thought you had a rough day

This is what Charlie looks like when he's real mad.

It's hard to make this cat mad.
He's usually just curious.
Let me start at the beginning...

I'm throwing my sister & niece a "meet the family" baby shower. Games and prizes all fit with what you might expect at your favorite princess birthday party from your youth. One prize for winning a game is a big white boa and tiara and white gloves. No stuffy shower games from this aunt!

Charlie absolutely cannot control himself when it comes to boas. His favorite cat toys are so pink and feathery they'd make a drag queen glad.

So when I bought stuff for the shower, I diligently prepared them in gift bags and locked them in the study (our most unpacked room left), so as to not tempt the little fruitcake.

Around 11am today, my colleagues came to the house to scout. We're shooting here next week and we needed to make sure we were all set on camera angles and props. Someone opened the door to the study, closed it, but didn't make sure it latched.

At 12:30pm, Keith and I came home for lunch to let Dodger out, just like usual.

At 5:30pm, I came home to the twillight zone. No Charlie at the door to say hello. Vases in the living room knocked over, the bathroom a mess...


And this next to Dodger's cage. That's one of the gift bags, with party favor bags tangled together with a random candle holder. I have no idea how he did this.



I let the dog out and went to find Charlie in the office.
This was all I saw. That boa used to be wrapped...


So I searched the house from top to bottom. I had visions of him having choked on the boa and dying, alone - a blissful feathery death.
I finally spooked him out from hiding in the basement.
I just saw an orange and yellow streak.
I cornered him and he was growling like crazy. He looked like he was pooping out an entire gift bag (undigested).
I panicked a bit.
Keith's playing with the guys from the office - I had to face the rabbid beast alone.
So, we just chatted a while, trying to calm him down. Figured I wouldn't be much help if he ate my arm off.
He let me pet him, but he wasn't going to budge.
I tried pulling the bag from between his legs, assuming there was something sticky adhering it to his belly. No luck.
As I pet him, it felt like he had a bag handle under his skin. I thought, "he definitely couldn't have swallowed it... I don't get it."
Then I finally got him to relax enough to let me investigate - he had his body caught in the handle of the bag. So I tore as much of the bag off as possible and went to get scissors. I carefully cut the handle off the bag, leaving this:



Poor guy - he's completely traumatized.

ten years ago, maybe

I had a meeting at a college today.
It just so happened that my meeting began at 9am - same time as freshmen orientation.
In the same building.
My assistant (true, but still weird to say) was with me.
She's 23.
She graduated from the college.
She was explaining how orientation works.
We were chatting about it as we walked across campus.
About halfway there, a man called out from behind us, "I guess we'll just follow you!"
I thought maybe it was one of my clients.
It was a dad bringing his 18 year old son to orientation.
So... do you think he thought I was bringing my daughter? Or were we just two high school graduates headed to orientation?
Either way, I'm kind of miffed.

You can call me Huck Finn

Keith and I got home from the beach last night around 8pm. It was the perfect beach day, although we only really spent the evening there. Good waves, warm water (I went all the way in), enough breeze to cool your skin, but not so much that you eat sand the whole time. All in all, a great trip to the water on a beautiful evening.

I wasn't quite ready to go inside when we got home. So I putzed. I watered all the plants. then I started pulling weeds. Pulling weeds is the perfect chore for me. It's all about instant gratification. You get dirty enough to feel like you did something. And the pile when you're done is always impressive.

Keith got in on the action, too. We weeded rock beds, side yards, wood chip piles, and finally the parkway. Our parkway is about 75% weeds and 25% grass. We knew we'd be out there for a while. We were only there a short bit when the kids found us. Freddy & Sammy, our "regulars" came with two of their friends. The friends were okay with stopping by, but they didn't really want to hang out there. They kept trying to get Sammy and Freddy to come play. You probably think F & S were playing with Dodger. Nope. They were pulling weeds. It even turned into a competition - my root's longer than yours! So?! I pulled more weeds than you!

They were out there long enough having enough fun that the friends even came back and entertained the dog. Couple that with two lengthy conversations with adult neighbors and I'll tell you I feel at home.

Brotha

Our neighbors across the street bought Dodger's biological brother.
This is gonna be fun.
More updates to follow by my slacker self.

she got cuter

A bath always helps... :)