** Crickets Chirping **

How does one measure a week?

In miles? 610 miles. That's a round trip to the farm, and two and a half round trips to school. The half means I'm staying at the Spare Room tonight.

In emails? I've authored 39 emails. I've received 142 emails.

In text messages? 261 sent and received, and that's short one day since my new billing cycle started on the 23rd.

In facebook activity? Only 8 actions.

Times I said "Gra-No-La" to daughter in an attempt to correct her after she told me she was bringing a grlolna bar in her lunch? 1 million. Or twenty.

Times I dropped my phone while in the bathroom and it slid into another stall and someone had to hand it to me under the divider? Only once, surprisingly.

Opportunities to hold SweetNiece? Three separate occasions this past weekend!

Number of friends leaving for Mongolia to teach English? Three.

Number of times the lights went out while at work alone late at night? Twice.

Number of checks the taxi cab accepted when I decided to hail a ride back to my car? Zero.

Number of times it took the taxi cab driver to try and create an imprint of my credit card while using only a pen and the old-fashioned carbon credit card sheets? Three.

Number of wishes granted this week? One official wish, that of SuperDuper!

Number of times I thought SuperSaver was going into labor? Twice. Once when she called me and didn't leave a message, and once during dinner when she poured water on herself.

In hours spent in class? 18.5, including time at court for my public interest externship.

In hours spent at work? 11.

Times I blogged? This week, just once. As the last semester picks up, blogging has to give way to homework. Sorry AngelOwner, you faithful reader you!


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ChoirFriend Update

Today ChoirFriend had the operation to remove cancerous cells in her breast and lymph nodes. From my short phone conversation with her this afternoon, she seems to be doing REALLY well, if you know what I mean :-) ChoirFriend is one of the most polite people I know, and to speak with her while she was under the influence of heavy-duty drugs was pretty entertaining. At the end of the phone conversation, she said "Thanks for calling. Or did I call you?"

ChoirFriend's mom reported that the doctor thinks things went well. Hallelujah! Taking a step back, the past five months have poked along while simultaneously flying by. On September 22, every day of waiting seemed like the longest day ever. Every bad reaction to chemo was a lifetime. It seemed like February was eons away.

Now that the big hurdles are hopefully behind us, hindsight reveals that time flew by just as fast as it normally does. If only we could make time slow down for the good stuff and speed up for the bad. But alas, time does not discriminate.

Congratulations ChoirFriend!


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NO SCHOOL TOMORROW

My favorite high school choir song?

The weather man is saying
That snow is on the way
The sun is disappearing
The sky is turning gray
I've listened to the forecast
I hope it isn't wrong!
And that is why I sing this soooong (that is why I sing this song...)
There is NO SCHOOL TOMORROW
NO SCHOOL TOMORROW
NO SCHOOL TOMORROW 'cause it snowed
There is NO SCHOOL TOMORROW
NO SCHOOL TOMORROW
NO SCHOOL TOMORROW 'CAUSE IT SNOWED!

Yup. Even if high school graduation was over a decade ago and you're in your 8th year of higher education (20th Grade?), a snow day is still the BEST THING EVER.


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Free To Be Me in... 50?

The counter at the bottom of the blog tells the truth: I have spent 300 days, and 257 posts (including this one), trying to free myself of those character traits that drug me down for almost 30 years. I now have a mere 50 left before I hit the bit three-o.

It's go time.


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Vague Plans

The vague plan is to move to the West Metro no later than September of this year. The ideal plan is to move in June, but several things have to fall into place for that to happen, including the timing of buying a new house and selling our own.

Today, I went to a study session on campus for the ethical test required of applicants to the bar. Students for all four area law schools were there, and in an effort to save LawLady a seat I ended up next to Jag. I sat down, noticed that Jag had a full outline written already (the class hadn't even started yet), and commented, Oh my word have you already made an outline?

He laughed and said no, it was his to do list. He had to sell his house. I apologized for my nosy-ness (I think) and then asked where his house was. He mentioned a location in the West Metro. As we continued to speak, I discovered it had almost everything Husband and I had been looking for. He and his family were even roughly on the same schedule as we were, because they had to leave the state in September for his army placement.

We both were amazed at the "coincidence" of our situations. He said it was kind of creepy (maybe he meant I was kind of creepy)... so in a very not-creepy way (?) I asked him if he was a man of faith. He said Yes, with a laugh. I responded I was pretty sure, because 1) he was married, 2) he had children, and 3) his wife packed him a pretty fantastic snack pack, including a thermos full of gourmet coffee (that smelled FABULOUS), some cashews, and other misc. snacks.

Now, admittedly I haven't seen pictures yet, so I'm not getting TOO excited. But it was an example of how God has it all under control. It's a great reminder that I can worry and search all I want, but in the end God's plan prevails, and more often than not his plan is not at all what we expect.


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False Memories

It was a rough morning.

Goal: be at the federal courthouse in St. Paul by 9 a.m. I was relatively on track to meet that goal. I told the Garmin where I wanted to go, but I wasn't confident in his answer. So I relied on my memory of where I thought I went last time.

Driving a large SUV is somewhat deceiving in parking ramps. It always seems like you're going to hit the ceiling or some low overhang. I try and remember the teenager's rule of thumb - he is taller than the car, and he doesn't hit his head on the ceiling, so he is probably fine. But this morning, when I drove up to a parking ramp that I "remembered" parking in before, my antennae hit the warning overhang and the bar looked way too low for passage.

So there I was, unable to move forward and trapped by two cars also waiting to get into the ramp. Oops. Eventually the immediate car behind me drove away in a fast and angry manner, and I was able to maneuver awkwardly into the "out" lane and drive away to the next ramp. Where I managed to drive into the contract parking line. So yet again, in a span of five minutes, I had to maneuver the massive SUV into the correct line while not hitting anything else.

I'm finally parked, and my memory was that the courthouse was right around the corner... or something. Thank goodness we're having a slight heatwave, because I was aimlessly wandering around, looking for the courthouse of my dreams. Eventually, after walking about five blocks and not seeing anything familiar, I asked my Smart Phone to show me the way. And it did. I was only about a block off, but by now it was 9:15 a.m.

I walked up to the courtroom for observation, and was escorted to the last open seat. At least it was a somewhat discreet aisle seat. I arrived halfway through the event, so remained in my seat for only fifteen minutes. Kind of horrifying.

LawLady and THH had arrived on time, but like good friends did not comment on my lateness. I was embarrassed, and projected my guilt onto LawLady, imagining sharp accusation in her eyes. Later in the day, I apologized and LawLady kindly said she knows how crazy my life is. What a good friend - although maybe she meant to say she knows how crazy I am.

Same difference?


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My Mother Does Love Me!

I must clear my mother's good name: her valentine came while I was at the Spare Room. So I guess she does love me! :-) Thanks Mom!


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My Morning Commute

This morning, in an effort to not pay $19 to park downtown, I left the Spare Room at 7:29 a.m. A record for me.

As I drove along, I eventually encountered a stoplight. As I stepped on the brake, the car started to skid on some black ice. Luckily I wasn't going very fast, and therefore wasn't in any imminent danger of rear-ending someone. I stopped, and then heard behind me "KKKKkkkkisssh!!!!" - the sound of the car behind me hitting the snowy embankment on the right-hand shoulder. I looked in my rearview mirror and saw the grew sedan with only one wheel on the road and the rest of the car high on the snowbank.

I had a short moral battle of whether to turn around or not - I mean, it was their fault for tailgating me, right? But then I thought of all the times (some more recently then others) that I had been stuck in a snowbank. I adjusted my route and returned to the scene. It turns out the driver was a young girl, either a senior in high school or a young college girl, and she had already called for help to get her off the embankment. She admitted she just didn't slow down in time, and she didn't realize it was icy (now where have I heard that before?). She seemed surprised that I stopped, and thanked me. I wanted to say something like, "Oh, I know how it feels to be stuck in a snowbank," but thought better of it, smiled, and walked back to my car.

And yes, I still made it to work on time!


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I love you a Hole Punch

"Enjoy your VD," texted Twinsfan this morning.

Venereal disease? Oh wait. Valentine's Day! While both VD's involve red shapes and sex, my hope is that you enjoyed a VD that doesn't hurt when you pee.

As moms know, VD is also a time to let your kids know you love them. The teenager received the hole punch card, while daughter's included pictures of the family. Husband's card involved a tree: "Wood you be my valentine?"

Ironically, I have yet to receive my annual love note from my mom. I'm going to assume it was a fluke of the mail, but somehow daughter and husband got their valentines from my mom on Saturday... but I didn't. Mom, are you trying to tell me something???

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Big Foot

The teenager complained, perhaps validly, that he was disavantaged because the wii fit board is too small...

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The Teenager Returns

It's always nice to have the Teenager home! While there is a lot more junk food rolling around (for example, he decided to make some queso dip this afternoon; he purchased chocolate-covered doughnuts; his bedtime snack consisted of shortbread cookies), he is also quite intrigued by the new Wii Fit Plus, and has been hard at work setting all sorts of high scores. This, in turn, spurs me on to work harder on the Wii fit, because as you know, I love to win. For example, for 18 minutes straight I ski-jumped in an attempt to dislodge his #1 ranking (and yes, I'm still at the top of the leader board).

It is amazing how healthy competition can spur us on towards goals previously thought unreachable. I can't tell you how many times we posted respectable scores in an event only to have one person shoot the moon - with the next person shooting even farther!

"Anything you can do, I can do better..."


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Glasses

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The eye doctor prescribed new lenses for both Daughter and me. I am practically blind, so much that we are having problems finding contact lenses powerful enough for me. I'm scared of lasic due to a college speech class, where one student explained in detail how you are awake as a machine sits on your eye and cuts the top layer and there is immense pain during various parts of the procedure. Sign me up when I can get knocked out.

Daughter had glasses prescribed a few years ago, but she developed a "Grandma" habit of looking over her glasses while talking, reading, etc. Previously, the eye doctor said it would be OK if she stopped wearing them all the time as long as she wore them when reading. But this time around, Daughter had enough of a shift in her vision that the eye doctor said she needed to wear glasses all the time. Daughter was not thrilled about this news, but once the new lenses came she wandered around the house exclaiming, "I CAN SEE!" She still tries to leave them behind from time to time, but overall she seems to be adjusting just fine.


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A cautionary tale about cars

Last night Hol-dog and I attended our alma mater's men's basketball game. It was close throughout, but as the clock clicked down to the last thirty seconds, the arena emptied as people ran for their cars. While the loss itself was painful, the home crowd abandonment was utterly demoralizing. And based on the traffic jams surrounding the arena, very few people actually experienced any advantage by leaving early.

As Hol-dog and I made our way into the parking ramp to her huge pickup, the line of exiting cars already snaked behind her vehicle and beyond. So we hopped in the truck, turned on the seat-warmers, and waited for our opportunity to hop into line.

It took a while before someone finally let us in, and just as we were about to reverse some pedestrians wandered into our targeted area of entry. I said something sarcastically "to" the pedestrians, but more for Hol-dog's benefit. I may have said something to the effect of, "Get out of the way ya idiots." Aaaannnd it may have included a naughty word. Don't judge, you know you've done it.

Well, after my mild insult, the pedestrians twitched in the same way that my dog twitches when she hears her name. Uh oh. After the pedestrians wandered away, and we had proceeded a few feet, I hopped out of the truck (traffic wasn't moving), shut the door, and Hol-dog repeated the mild insult at the same volume.

I heard every word. Oh dear.

So let me be a cautionary tale for all people out there. Cars are not sound-proof. Please, resist the urge to say those nasty things. Because you might think they can't hear you, but THEY CAN. Clearly. The End.


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Web Traffic

I enjoy perusing the blog's web traffic stats. Two people got to the site using the search "can i damage the alignment of my car if i hit a snowbank." A few got here by looking up the definition of mob wife, and someone clicked my blog when her lia sophia necklace broke and she wanted to know how to replace it. I'm sure my blog was very insightful for that. Oh, and two people found the blog by searching for "ear wax chunk." Gross.


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Like Her.

Today in court, a pro-se defendant was telling my supervising attorney about an incident a few months ago in the courtroom, and in an attempt to sound very reliable, he began describing the people in the room.

"Yeah, I remember the attorney. He was a short guy. Dark hair. Chubby."

I giggled.

"There was a woman too. Curly hair. She was bigger, too. Like her."

Guess who he pointed to? I was no longer giggling. (You know the face that Jim makes to the camera on The Office, when Dwight says something really weird? Yeah, I made that face to my imaginary camera in the back of the courtroom).

Oh well. I need a little motivation. I'm falling off the wagon fast. Today I was so late getting in to work (and yes, I'm late coming in five miles as opposed to seventy-five miles. I've already learned the distance is not to blame...) that I drove downtown, cutting my round-trip, school-to-court walk from three miles to a mere one mile. While the heated garage was lovely at the end of the day, the $19 fee was a bit painful...

Thanks to AngelOwner, who encouraged me to write a post tonight. She is such a loyal reader! Sunday through Tuesday nights are so busy, it's hard to fit in blog-time. The amount of activities packed into those three evenings is enough to pop a button right off... kind of like SuperSaver's jacket button popping off after an evening at Khan's Mongolian Barbecue (In her defense, she is due in March, and generally she is the tiniest little thing. On a randomly related note, SuperSaver was in true form last night, telling me about the cost-effectiveness of cloth diapers versus disposables).

As it is, I am Not due in March, yet I am also apparently in danger of button-popping (or at least according to random pro-see defendants). But I find that my ability to make good food choices increases proportionately with the amount of sleep I get. So I'm going to try and get eight hours tonight - until tomorrow!


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Mii Fit

I didn't lose weight this week. Which means I gained a little weight. Which was not surprising, what with beckoning chocolate chip cookies and all. I was a little sad, but resolved I wouldn't get too down on myself because overall, things are going well.

Coinciding with my weight plateau is SweetTalker's idea to have a Biggest Loser competition amongst my family. I'm at a bit of a disadvantage since I didn't bulk up over Super Bowl like FarmerBoy and FamousDiva, but I'm looking forward to the competition. The idea is that we all weigh in on the Wii fit, we have eight weigh-ins (every two weeks), and the person with the largest % of weight loss gets cash.

So this means Husband and I "had" to purchase a Wii fit, and local Walmart only had the Wii fit plus. Setting up my Mii was pretty funny. I started off all cute and skinny. But when the Wii learned my BMI, suddenly my little animated Mii ballooned out to the point that a significant fat roll protrudes between the top of my Mii pants and the bottom of my Mii shirt. Lovely.

But, happily, my Wii Fit Age is only 33. Unlike Daughter and Husband, who are in their Wii 40's. I'm pretty excited to add a little yoga and strength training to my day. Husband felt the need to remind me that somewhere in the house there was a forgotten and forlorn dance pad from my Dance Dance Revolution phase...

This is different... right?


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Character or Hardware?

Lots and lots of character. Funny how "lots" uses the same letter as another four-letter L word that I HATE.

Today was the much-anticipated season-opener of the Junior Olympic volleyball season. And it did not go well. While traumatic at the time, afterward Prodigy and Spitfire joined me for some "group therapy" at a local dive bar, and that made things a lot better. By this evening, I was ready to re-embrace my team with loving arms and an encouraging spirit.

See God? I've learned my lesson and developed lots of character. Enough character to last me an entire season. I'm ready for my hardware.


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FarmerBoy

I'm the oldest, and was adopted at 6 months of age. Four months later, FarmerBoy was born. So the two of us grew up together, a mere 10 months between us. FarmerBoy loved riding in the grain trucks to the elevator, riding in the tractors in the field, and riding in the combine during harvest. So upon graduation from high school, he got his farm management degree, bought some land, married a wife, and settled down to live the good life.

FarmerBoy, while quite phone-savvy, still does not have a facebook account and is not overly excited about being a blog-reader. But recently, for the first time, he checked it out. The funny part is that at first, he had no idea who the pseudonyms were for. For example, he thought it very strange that I had a pet guinea pig who died the same time our other sister's guinea pig passed away. But once he figured out that I used pseudonyms for people he knew (most of whom he is related to), he got into the site a bit more. He even did a search to see how many times "FarmerBoy" came up in the blog!

So welcome FarmerBoy. AngelOwner is a loyal reader, and gets after me when I don't post on a daily basis. My mom facebooks me when she likes posts, because she "can't seem to figure out how to comment on the blog." I have to keep my family happy; without them, my readership would look pretty pathetic...


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The Secret and a Chocolate Chip Cookie

Let's start off with a quick disclaimer: after the events of the day, but prior to writing this post, I did a little research to find out what "The Secret" actually was, and I conclude it is a theory that took the Truth, twisted and wrung God out of it, and replaced God with worship of self. So in light of that, I am definitely NOT promoting nor supporting "The Secret," and have some theories about what ACTUALLY happened today. Make sure you read to the end.

One day a few summers ago, a golf league friend was telling me about Oprah and The Secret. The jist of it, as I understood it, was that you literally yelled into the universe something that you wanted, and then you waited for it to come back to you. I'm pretty sure it was listener error and not my friend's fault that I was so confused. Anyways, I understood that somehow, by telling the universe what I wanted and really focusing my energy on getting it, the universe would fulfill my request.

So today, in the law journal office, I was sitting with a few friends and it occurred to me that I wanted a chocolate chip cookie. I joked about The Secret, and we began visualizing our desires: we also wanted a certain friend to arrive so she could sign some cards, and another friend wanted an eggroll. But I was the only one who took the time to yell out to the universe, "CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIE!!!"

Imagine our surprise when, in thirty minutes, CookieMan appeared. He walked in with a small wax-paper bag. I asked CookieMan if he had a cookie. He said yes. I asked what kind. He said chocolate chip. He asked if I wanted some; he had gotten it for me because I had let him borrow my phone charger. In his own words, "I was walking by the stand, and I heard a voice say, get [freetobeme350] a chocolate chip cookie."

Now, it is possible that he actually physically heard me. I am quite loud. (That was a joke, the stand is several blocks away. I'm not THAT loud). There was no way he received a text, because his phone was being charged with us in the journal office. Call it what you will, but I confidently asked for a chocolate chip cookie and I got one.

But why a chocolate chip cookie, and not the friend, or the eggroll? Was it because I said it out loud? Was it a coincidence? Do I believe in coincidence? (Not really.) Mathew 17:20 comes to mind: "If you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you.” But the context of those verses was healing a demon-possessed boy, not asking for a trivial chocolate chip cookie.

While I don't have a ready answer for why God sent me a cookie, I know that it had nothing to do with my powers. II Corinthians 3:4-6, my verse o' the day, reminds me that I am not sufficient to claim anything as coming from me; rather, my sufficiency comes from God. Yes, I am still a bit befuddled. Yes, I seem to be yelling a lot lately. Yes, I intend to see if I can replicate these cookie appearances.

But No, I'm not 100% sure I know what it all means.


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A January Story

I can't believe it's February already! I still haven't shared all my January stories!

One evening in January, I went to bed late. Which meant, subsequently, I woke up late. Leaving me a mere hour to get myself prepared for a few days in the Spare Room, get Daughter on the bus, and get to school on time despite several inches of snow.

Number 1? Fail. Number 2? Fail. Number 3? Fail.

See, while I was running around like a crazy person, trying to shower, dress myself, pack my books, and pack clothes for the next two days, I was also sort-of cleaning for the person who cleans my house. I vowed I would never become that person, but alas, I grew up. The pile of recycling overflowed its poor brown grocery bag and entirely filled the gap between the pantry and the fridge. It was embarrassingly atrocious, and in my OCD state I could not allow it.

So I asked daughter to take out the recycling. Great idea, right? She's done it before. Never this Much recycling a mere fifteen minutes before the bus was to arrive, but what's that to a stressed out mom?

I continue running around, and a confused daughter trudges inside and outside with several loads of recycling. And I notice that she hasn't come back in a while. I stick my head out the door, and she is struggling a bit with the last bag. I yell some, er, "encouragement" out the door. She empties the bag. I tell her to walk around to the front of the house, and I will let her in the front door, thinking to myself that this will avoid snowy shoes walking through the length of the entire house. Ironically, I had forgotten the cleaning lady was coming.

So I run to the front of the house, and open the front door, and wait. And wait. And in horror, I realize she didn't understand. SHE DIDN'T UNDERSTAND. I run to the back door. Sure enough, there she is in the entry. And I flipped out, yelling something to the effect of why are you in the house why don't you listen etc etc.

Don't worry, I see the error in my ways. And I saw my error immediately that day as well. Here's Daughter, with tears in her eyes because I'm the MEANEST MOM EVER. And I'm about to leave for a few days. So I wave off the bus, reconcile with Daughter, and try to finish packing as quickly as possible so she isn't late to school.

I start the car, Daughter waits inside it, and I run in the house for the last load. As I walk inside, I yell to God. "HELP MEEEEEEEEEE! HHHHHEEEELLLLLLLPPPPP!"

I hear a thunk, and someone approaches. Suddenly, Mocha appears in the doorway.

Sigh.

So yes, in the end, I totally missed my 9 a.m. class. Daughter missed the bus. And I went way beyond my one hour time limit. Fail fail fail. BUT my teacher was fine with me missing class due to horrible metro traffic, Daughter and I shared a moment in the car, and my dog is a servant of the Lord. The end.




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Warm or cold water?

Today, I met with the Teenager on campus for coffee before participating on a panel about law school at a nearby classroom. He was relaying a story to me about how he and his roommate saved their hall by notifying the appropriate people they had no heat or hot water. His story began like this:

"I was brushing my teeth and I said to Roommate, we have no hot water-"

"Wait," I interject. "You brush your teeth with hot water?"

He looked at me incredulously.

"You brush your teeth with cold water?"

I explained that a hot toothbrush sounds gross. He said hot water kills the germs. We are both confident we are the non-weird one. So please let us know - hot or cold?

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