Things I Learned This Weekend 2

A mother who is ill should not attempt to recover over the weekend by lying around reading celebrity magazines and drinking hot tea.

Celebrity magazines often have articles containing beauty tips.

Never leave a celebrity magazine lying around the house.

Pre-teen girls are very concerned about their looks.

Pre-teen girls do not actually read the text of articles containing beauty tips. They only look at the pictures.

Scissors and the eyebrows of pre-teen girls do not mix.

It costs $37.03 to buy every color of eyebrow pencil in the drugstore.

It is almost impossible to perfectly match the color of human eyebrows with eyebrow pencil.

It is even more impossible to make eyebrows natural looking with eyebrow pencil when they are half gone.

No matter how desperately ill a mother is, she should never attempt to sleep late on a Sunday morning.

Fashion Regurgitated

According to my local radio station, fashion is cyclical. Apparently fashions from the 80s are coming back. I am not sure how I feel about this. Of course, I am a big fan of this decade. I have a music and DVD collection to prove it. The clothes, on the other hand are not something I think I want to revisit. Digging back through old pictures of myself during that time period confirms my feelings. I mean really my friends, is this something we want to see repeated?

Big Hair - Otherwise known in these parts as Jersey Girl hair. My apologies to you if you are a girl from New Jersey. Double those apologies if you had huge hair. The big hair craze hit Virginia hard and spread like the plague. Your popularity in high school was multiplied exponentially by the height of your bangs. If this one comes back, I'm buying stock in Aqua Net (that's cheap hairspray for you guys out there).

The Mullet – Nothing gets me going more than a man in a mullet. Those are especially attractive on men who are losing or have lost their hair. Add a beer belly and a stained white t-shirt 2 sizes too small and I am so there baby. Oh. Wait. That was a Jerry Springer flashback. Never mind.

Skinny Jeans – The current trend of navel bearing, low riding jeans is traumatic enough. I've just gotten used to the snickers when I wear them with my comfortable granny underwear. I'm not ready for change. I had several pairs of "Skinny jeans" in my youth. You might have called them something different, but you know the jeans I'm talking about. They were so tight that your foot wouldn't fit into them without unzipping the conveniently placed zipper at the ankle. I realize "no pain, no gain," but I don't relish the thought of strangling my ankles again.

Leg Warmers – I think the 80s are proof that only ballet dancers can pull off leg warmers. I have the pictures to prove it.

Slouch Socks – These I still wear. The difference between now and then is that I now wear my jeans OUTSIDE of my socks, instead of tucking them INTO my socks. Of course, this point will be moot if we allow the skinny jeans to rest in peace.

"Preppy" – Pink and green are nauseating together. Espadrilles look like my grandmother's shoes and there is no way I can fit all my crap into one of those little wooden handled purses. Enough said.

Ripped Tights and Hose – OK, honestly I wouldn't mind this one so much. In fact I would actually be ahead of the trend. As it is now, when I catch someone glancing at my inevitable run, I look down, gasp with horror and say "Oh my gosh! That must have just happened!" It saves me from buying a new pair.

20 Pound Earrings - These beauties are the reason I can no longer wear tiny little stud earrings. Besides, I don't think my neck muscles are what they used to be.

There are so many other fashion trends from the 80s that I could comment on, but I will save you the agony of reliving it. My friends, we must stop this horrifying phenomenon. As you are aware, our youth set the fashion standards. I beg you to dig out your old garb and wear it just once. One look at you and kids will swear off the 80s forever.

It worked for my kids.

Blocked Out

When I was in school (a few years ago, of course) we had 6 classes and we attended each one of them every day. Why this became a problem for school boards I cannot fathom, but things have changed. #1 Son is the unfortunate victim of something called "block scheduling." Between the two of us, C. and I hold three college degrees, yet we still cannot figure out this brilliant scheduling. I guess you need a Ph.D.

I'm not even going to attempt to explain it to you other than to say that they now have seven (or is it eight?) classes which they attend every other day. Sort of. There are "A" days and "B" days, otherwise known as "odd" and "even" days. Here is an example from the calendar that we JUST received:

Mon: EVEN Day – 8-6; 6,4,2,6
Tues: ODD Day (Ed. Note – no class numbers are listed)
Wed: EVEN Day – 8-7; 2,4,6,7
Thurs: ODD Day
Fri: EVEN Day – 8-1; 2,4,6,1

Clear as mud, right? It gets better. We've had some "severe winter weather" recently. For instance we had that blizzard on Wednesday that dumped a half an inch of snow (yes you read that correctly) and forced a school closure on Thursday. School closings apparently interfere with this well developed schedule and confuse everyone involved. In an attempt to clarify the scheduling issue, the school sent home a letter last Friday. It is long and involved, so I will just give you my favorite highlights. It is complicated so I will type slowly.

"If school is canceled, we will make up the missed day’s schedule on the day of make-up. If we miss an even day with 8-2 as the double dose block, we will have an even-day with 8-2 on the established make up day. On the day of return, we will have the schedule that has been established on the school’s block calendar (Ed. Note – Friday is the FIRST time said calendar has been sent home). This is regardless of how many days are missed."

I just have one question. When the heck is his math homework due?

Fun Stuff

OK, it is the weekend and that means FUN! The Best of Blogs (BoBs ) awards have been a blast for several reasons. First and foremost is that I have found so many good blogs to read. Second is the "aftermath." Here are a few things you will want to check out:

The Red Carpet for the awards ceremony hosted by Pink Poppy is one of the most original and funny things I have read...probably ever. Many of the BoB finalists have joined the party and it is well worth a visit. As you will note, I dressed in my finest duds for this highly touted event.

Also worth checking out are 2...count them, TWO contests that are ongoing. These are TOO funny! If you are here, then you probably share my sick sense of humor. Thus, you will enjoy these awards.

Norman at Espresso Sarcasm is hosting the Nubbies and the current category is "Mommy Blogs." This is a contest that lampoons blog awards AND reality TV. You can't go wrong with that. I'm hoping NOT to be voted off the island. So don't vote for me. He has several posts on the subject, so be sure to scroll through them from the beginning. While you are at it, you'll be exposed to Norman's unique sense of humor.

Mango has developed his own contest called The Mango Awards. This one cracks me up and I have already entered. The rules are explained on the site. There is actually a tangible prize for this challenge – Mango is giving away two $50 gift certificates! Good luck!

Housekeeping Issues:

Sid, check your mailbox next week. No it's not a letter bomb.
Trashman, only for YOU have I finally met the 3 things challenge. You have to find it, though. Here's a hint: It's posted in my birth month. No fair asking my Twin when that is.

Back to my usual babble next week. Enjoy your weekend my friends!

All Rise

There is something in the air my friends, and it's not the smell of the overflowing garbage can in the kitchen. Perhaps it is too much togetherness? Perhaps the moon is in a weird phase and the planets are aligned? Whatever it is, it has turned my children into homicidal maniacs who are out to get each other with more of a vengeance than ever. I'm thinking of lacing their food with Dramamine.

They have been fighting over life and death issues this week such as: funny looks, who poked whom, who stole what trinket from whom, who did not change the toilet paper roll (I'm afraid I started that one), who fed the dog last, who gets punished more and who is a bigger (insert the latest highly offensive insult of choice).

I walked into an all out brawl earlier this evening. In a typical case of "He Said, She Said," I got the honor of declaring a winner. Decide for yourself:

Party of the First Part - Him: I was in my room working on my homework and minding my own business. She came in and asked me to come into her room so she could show me something. I went in calmly, saw her stupid thing and when I left, I accidentally stepped on her skateboard. I slipped and fell and it hurt. I was lying on her floor in pain and she started throwing Capri Sun (Ed. Note – a drink) on me.

Part of the Second Part - Her: I was in my room working on my homework and minding my own business. He barged in and was being a pain. He yelled at me. He got on my skateboard and tried to ride it. Then he fell down. Oh and my Capri Sun spilled.

Judicial Opinion: I will not bother to ask why the skateboard in question was in a certain person's bedroom instead of the garage where it belongs. I have lived in this house long enough to know that there are certain questions one just doesn't want the answer to. I'm not buying the innocent "minding my own business" act, either. I may look stupid, but I'm not deaf. Unless the parties are taking a wood shop class, the pounding and slamming I heard from both rooms before the screaming started did not sound like any math or spelling I am familiar with.

I believe the Party of the Second Part trespassed into the room of the Party of the First Part to taunt him with something. I do not want to know what. The Party of the First Part then decided to chase the Party of the Second Part into her room to taunt her. The Party of the First Part, using absolutely flawed judgment, decided to stand on the rogue skateboard and roll back and forth. The Party of the Second Part negligently threw Capri Sun at the First Party, thus distracting him enough to cause the skateboard to slip out from under him.

Verdict: Both parties are negligent and therefore guilty in this matter.

Sentence: The Party of the First Part shall immediately shower in the downstairs bathroom, change into bedclothes and go to bed. The Party of the Second Part shall simultaneously shower in the upstairs bathroom, change into bedclothes and go to bed. Under no circumstances are the parties to come in contact with each other under penalty of the loss of phone privileges for two weeks. The fact that it is an hour before bedtime is of no concern to the court. There will be no appeal of this verdict, as there is not enough Valium and chardonnay in the house for the court to consider the matter further.

My friends imagine my joy when it started snowing this afternoon.

(Ed. Note: I was honored and quite frankly thrilled to receive a review from one of my favorite sites on the web today,
Sigmund Carl and Alfred. If you check it out, please surf their archives. You'll enjoy every minute of it!)

Before and After

NaNa's house circa 1995

I had a different post ready for today, but all of the wonderful reader comments on the last post made me focus on the huge change in my mother, post grandchildren. Here are a few incidents for your consideration:

The Organ
Rules for me: Do NOT bang on that organ! It is not a toy! And your hands better be clean young lady!
Rules for the kids: NaNa loves your music! Weeee! (As she danced around. See the picture and note the vigor with which they "played." For the record, their hands were NOT clean.)

Crayons, Markers and Other Writing Instruments:
Rules for Me: Young lady those belong on paper! Do NOT let me catch you drawing anywhere else, or you will be sorry!
Rules for the kids: He's so creative! (Yes, the kid actually colored on her kitchen FLOOR, and yes we have a picture of it that she took. I was going to post it, but I like the organ picture better)

Eating Food:
Rules for Me: I am NOT a short-order cook! You will eat what I make with the rest of the family and you WILL sit there until all of that broccoli is gone! (In a battle of wills I once sat at the table for 2 hours trying to feed the dog broccoli under the table. The stupid dog spit it out and got me busted. Dumb dog)
Rules for the Kids: Oh Honey, I'm sorry you don't like that! NaNa will make you some macaroni and cheese (or PBJ or whatever).

Candy:
Rules for Me: No you CANNOT have any candy before dinner! You will fill up on that crap and be jumping around like a wild animal. Then you won't eat your supper.
Rules for the Kids: Of COURSE you can have some candy Sweetheart! I don't know why your mother is so strict about it. She used to eat it by the handfuls!

Jumping on the Bed:
Rules for Me: Do NOT let me catch you jumping on that bed! You will fall off and crack your head wide open and I do NOT have time to go to the hospital today!
Rules for the Kids: Don't jump on that bed, that one is too small. Let's go jump on NaNa and PaPa's bed, it's a king size!

As I look back, I have to admit that I have heard some her words come out of my mouth. It scares the crap out of me.

PS - Don't forget to vote in the BoB awards! You can vote once a day per valid email address. Voting ends tomorrow, Jan. 17th.

Mommy the Martyr

It is a mother's natural instinct to play the martyr and I was trained by a professional. My mother rose to the rank of General in the Martyr brigade early on. She had us believe that she gave up everything for us and kept nothing for herself. For our greed we received a deep sigh followed by "It's OK. I do without so that you can have. I love you." Who was she kidding? I distinctly remember finding several of her "hidden" stashes as a kid.

In the years that have followed, the notes I took from those incidents have served me well. You would think that Mom would be darned proud. Imagine my surprise when she was over here recently and discovered my stash of Reese's Peanut Butter Cups hidden in an empty frozen veggie bag in the freezer.

Her: What on EARTH are these doing in here?
Me: Mom, I have to hide them or the kids will get them.
Her: Oh for heaven’s sake! The kids LOVE these.
Me: That's my point. They're sneaky little buggers and that's my third hiding place this month!
Her: Well they deserve them. I just can't understand why you would hide candy from the babies! (Ed. Note. You'll remember the "babies" are 10 and 13 years old)
Her: Kids, come down here right now!
Me: But MOM those were mine!
Her: (ignoring my plea) Look what NaNa has for you!
Kids: Cool! NaNa bought us candy!
Her: Well, you've both been working so hard. You deserve them.
Kids: NaNa you're the BEST!

That old bat owes me a jumbo bag of Reese's Peanut Butter Cups.


PS - Don't forget to vote in the BoB awards! You can vote once a day per valid email address.

My Advice to Web Searchers

For several weeks I have been keeping a list of some of the more amusing web searches that have somehow found this blog. It is obvious to me that these people have serious issues. How these searchers made their way here, I cannot begin to fathom. I guess I need to watch my big fat keyboard a bit more closely in the future.

nana punk bump toe shoes
Dear Nana: Anyone who cannot decide on a fetish needs professional help. I am sure you were disappointed when you did not find a picture of my 70-year-old pregnant mother wearing black ballet slippers. Better luck next time.

Big boobs milk
Dear Boobs: I am pretty sure there is a porn site for that. Sorry. This is not it.

If a child doesn't do well the first semester in college does that mean they are in trouble the entire time
Dear Parent: They are if it is MY kid. Take his car away, cut up his credit cards and fake ID and kick him in the butt.

Does your period mean you stop growing
Dear Sweet Child: No it does not. In fact you grow quite a bit, what with all the water gain and the cheetos cravings. It just SEEMS like you are bigger because for a couple of days people are afraid to be around you. This will pass.

What does it mean to watch your child fall out of a tree
Dear Parent: That depends. Did you push him?

what does twenty mean in math
Dear Rhoades Scholar: It comes after nineteen.

Pictures of Flashing assholes
Dear Misguided User: Did you mean flaming? Flashing sounds like a serious medical condition. Please hang up and dial 911.

When a daughter does not get along with her mother
Dear Parent: Duh. When DOES a daughter get along with her mother? Relax and enjoy the tornado that is a girl child.

Parents Nude in front of their teenager
Dear Parent: Grab a towel and answer the door. It’s Child Protective Services and they would like to have a word with you.

what does the name June mean?
Dear Child: I assume it means your mother hated the names May and July.

search for colleges that pay$89 per month as their school fee in usa
Dear Prospective Student: You are obviously from a foreign country. For your next search try "technical schools that advertise on matchbook covers."

what does killing someone in your dreams mean
Dear Dreamer: Get out of my head.

PS - Don't forget to vote in the BoB awards! You can vote once a day per valid email address.

2004 is MY Year!

2004 is going to be MY year Baby!

This year I'm going to:

Publish another paper in a historical journal, maybe two.

Lose those pesky 15 pounds so I can fit into my old jeans again.

Finish all those home improvement projects we have started.

Maybe even quit smoking, finally.

Yesiree Bob, 2004 is going to be my year!

What?

It’s 2005?

Oh.

Nevermind.

Wabi Sabi

C. loves Japanese culture and all that it entails. My husband is the answer to the question, "what kind of a moron takes a 6 credit Japanese language class in college -for fun?" The language, the food, and the philosophy are all high on his list. It is with his interests in mind that he asked for, and received a book entitled "Wabi Sabi Simple" for Christmas. I happened to be in the bathroom "cleaning" when I saw the book lying there. The back cover explains that, "Wabi Sabi is an ancient Japanese aesthetic that emphasizes the value of simple things as a path to harmony." Hmmm...I could use some harmony around here, so I decided to thumb through it.

At first glance I realized something. My friends, I am a Wabi Sabi MASTER. This book is supposed to help you do the following:

Create Beauty – I have a brown thumb, the house looks like a war zone and I resemble an extra from the set of Twister. But hey, the kids are pretty good looking, so that's got to count for something.

Value Imperfection – Well, duh. I am surrounded by imperfection. Occasionally I tolerate it. There must be some value in tolerance.

Live Deeply – As we say here in the south, "Honey Please!" It doesn't get much deeper than this.

I was supremely confident when I began skimming through the book. The first chapter attempts to explain what Wabi Sabi actually IS. There's some mumbo jumbo in there about it being developed in the fifteenth century to tone down aristocratic tea parties. Since I've never actually attended an aristocratic tea party I figured that section does not pertain to me, so I scanned further. I found a section titled, "Dust: Waking to the Wonder of Decay." NOW we were talking! Not that I read it word for word, but this section said something about the beauty of light playing through swirling dust...or something. I KNEW it! My house is friggin GORGEOUS as it is filled with the "golden chaos." I resolved to never dust again. It is obviously beneficial for my family to experience the wonder of dust...or something. I only hope they appreciate my thoughtfulness.

The book went on to explain that Wabi Sabi is a secret I already know. It is a sign of "humble grace" and simplicity and some other stuff I skimmed over. The gist of it is the principal I already live by, "Don't Sweat the Small Stuff." This is a concept I learned after having children. BK (before kids), I was a successful insurance agent. I had hundreds of clients and a lot of stress. Then I had children, which is a different kind of stress all together, but I digress. It was my first child that taught me the concept of DSTSS. During a visit my mother ran herself ragged sterilizing everything the baby touched when it would drop on the floor. I finally told her that she really didn't have to do that. "But there are germs on the floor and he'll probably put it in his mouth," she replied. "Mom, he eats bugs, I don't think the teething ring is going to kill him." She was horrified of course, but the DSTSS was too deeply ingrained in me to turn back. I still live by this rule today. When they are fighting and screaming, I just take deep breaths. DSTSS dictates that I not concern myself unless someone is bleeding or something is on fire. See, simple. I was a Wabi Sabi practitioner. I just didn't know it.

I figured there was no need to continue with the first chapter, since I was already proficient in what Wabi Sabi is. I moved ahead to what Wabi Sabi is NOT. I was a bit disturbed by this chapter to be honest with you. The first sign of trouble was the heading "Avoid Temptation." OK, sometimes this proves difficult, but then I realized that temptation could be a subjective thing. Does the author mean temptation to avoid wine and ice cream, or is he actually talking about the temptation to strangle someone? I chose to believe he was talking about the latter, so I was still OK. By the time I got to the list of ways people "miss Wabi Sabi" and noted that first on the list is "Overcommitment," I had become bored. I had learned all I needed to from this book.

I am obviously a Wabi Sabi MASTER. I wonder how that will look on the old resume?

PS - Don't forget to vote in the BoB awards! You can vote once a day. Please also cast your vote for No Milk Please in the LGBT category and Jay's Party in the Blog Whore category!

Courtroom Observations

As regular readers know, we are involved in an ongoing saga involving #1 Son and a hoodlum from his school. If you are not familiar with the story, you can read about it here. Today was the court date. Unfortunately for the little thug, neither he nor his parents appeared in court today. We had to wait around for three and a half hours before the case was called and we were told they had not bothered to show up. The judge was very solicitous and apologetic. She thanked us for our time, apologized for having to wait so long for nothing and assured us that she was issuing bench warrants to pick "them" up. I assume that means the thug and both his parents, who were subpoenaed as I was. She further explained that after they are picked up, a new court date will be set and I will receive another subpoena. The saga continues.

The day was not a total loss, however. If you ever experience a blog writer's block, I highly recommend a visit to court. The people watching is unparalleled. I have enough material for at least three posts. I will not, however bore you with all of that at once.

You would think with all the fake court programs on television, like Judge Judy and Judge Joe Brown, that people would know how to dress for a court appearance. You would, however, be wrong. Please find below my tips for what NOT to wear to court:

Do not dress like a "hoochie mama." Skintight jeans (complete with a prominent camel toe), a neon pink "belly shirt" and hot pink stiletto-wrestling boots are not appropriate.

Do not wear anything with sequins. The outfit may have worked on New Year's Eve, but the judge will not likely be as impressed as your drunken party buddies.

If you are going to be creative by applying glitter to your jeans, do not insist on wearing them into the courtroom. If you cannot resist your crafty side, be sure not to apply the glitter liberally with white glue.

Remove the "bling." A young man who is making an attempt to clean up and look innocent in front of the court looks less so wearing 4 carats of cubic zirconia in each ear. Additionally, you will want to remove the 4 heavy chains that adorn your neck, especially the one with the gang symbol. Perhaps a tie might be more suitable.

Ditch the heavy metal t-shirt and the dirty trucker hat. You want to at least look like you have showered and shaved instead of looking like you've just come off a three-day bender.

A "do-rag" worn with an NBA jersey under a baseball jersey is inappropriate. Court is neither the NBA finals nor the World Series. You will also want to lace and tie your $200 tennis shoes. Tripping in front of the judge, while it might bring some levity into the courtroom, will not sway his or her decision.

4-inch stilettos and a micro-mini skirt are not appropriate, even if the skirt is part of a suit. Keep the jacket and buy some pants.

If your pants hang low, pull them up to your waist and secure them with a belt. The judge does not wish to see your Calvins.

Admittedly, the skintight velour tracksuit perfectly matches the purple laces in your hiking boots. Unfortunately, it should not be worn to court.

And finally, my all time favorite: Do NOT, under ANY circumstances wear a t-shirt emblazoned with the slogan "Thug 4 Life."

These descriptions are actual fashion statements that I witnessed this morning. My friends, I could not in my wildest dreams make this stuff up.

PS - Don't forget to vote in the BoB awards! You can vote once a day. Please also cast your vote for No Milk Please in the LGBT category and Jay's Party in the Blog Whore category!

Telephone Trial & Error

Part of the "thrill" of being a parent to a 13-year-old boy and a 10-year-old girl is that you never have to answer your home phone again. Ever. The sound of that little bell sets off a stampede of hooves much like the starting bell at the Kentucky Derby. No matter where they are in the house, they fling themselves at the infernal machine screaming their battle cry, "I GOT IT!" Why should I bother even trying to answer? It's not for me anyway, unless of course it is a bill collector and I am in the bathroom. Then the kids will hunt me down to give it to me. Thanks.

There are times when they are not allowed to answer the phone. If they are doing homework or chores (yes they actually have some – it's free labor, I'm not as dumb as I look), the phone is off limits. It is during those brief times that I actually get to pick up the receiver. This maneuver exposes me to the dreaded phenomenon known as "their friends." Why is it that children are taught "family life" in school and yet we do not teach them "proper telephone etiquette?" Here is a sampling of calls I actually took over the holiday break:

"Her Best Friend" – 672 times. This kid does not understand the concept of "she will call you back." If my daughter has not called her back in what the friend has deemed an appropriate amount of time (namely 2 minutes and 45 seconds), Best Friend simply calls the house. AGAIN.

"The Giggler" – There are a couple of gigglers, but they all sound the same. I think they ask for the boy, but I can't quite be sure.

"The Doubter" – This is one of the Little One's friends who does not believe the Little One cannot come to the phone. "Are you sure she can't talk? Will you tell her to call me? She's going to call me back right?" Talking to this kid is like the Spanish Inquisition.

"The Party Girls" – These young ladies have conference calling and they ring #1 Son en masse. When I answer, they all trill, "Is #1 there?!" I think The Giggler is a part of this group.

"The Rude Girl" – I can't stand this kid. When I tell her #1 is not able to come to the phone she hangs up. I've got some words for this twit, if she would only stay on the phone long enough for me to yell at her. I suspect this is the same kid whose cell phone "accidentally" calls occasionally in the middle of the night.

I think my all time favorite this break was Morgan. Morgan obviously has Caller-ID. Our conversation went like this:

Me: Hello
Her: Like did someone call my house?
Me: Not today, no one has been home.
Her: Like are you sure?
Me: Pretty positive.
Her: It was like the 13th. (This was now December 23rd)
Me: Uh, It could have been. I have children, maybe one of them called.
Her: Like what are their names?
Me: And who is this?
Her: Morgan.
Me: Morgan, are you in Middle School?
Her: Yeah.
Me: Then you probably know my son, #1
Her: Oh WOW! #1 called me?
Me: Apparently.
Her: Like for real? He really called ME? I can't believe #1 called me! Like that is so cool! Like is he there?
Me: No, he's out with his grandparents.
Her: Like this is so cool! #1 called ME! Is this his phone number?

Like *sigh*.

They went back to school today, making this my second favorite day of the year. My first favorite, of course, is the first day of school in September. The phone, which has rung every 20 minutes for the last eleven days straight, has sat quietly in its cradle all day. It is kind of eerie. Maybe one of the credit card companies will call.

Best of Blogs (BoB) Awards

Wow! In a totally unexpected turn of events, this blog has been chosen as a finalist in the Best of Blogs Awards in the humor category. THANK YOU to those that nominated the site. I know you're laughing with me, not at me right?

If you happen by here and find yourself laughing, please feel free to click the image and vote. You can vote once every 24 hours until January 17th.

I'd like to ask that you vote for three blogs that I have been reading for quite awhile. If you've never read them, DO. I promise you'll enjoy them as much as I do. Jay of Jay's Party is a finalist in the Biggest Blog Whore category. He's the biggest blog ho I know, and he'll have you cracking up! Paul at No Milk Please is a finalist in the Best LGBT Blog category and Lizt of This Full House is a finalist in the Best Mommy Blog category. Please give them your support!

Sorry I'm a bit off today. No, I'm not still hungover, I promise. I just got word that a favorite professor passed away suddenly. I was working with him on a paper to present at a conference in the spring. At only 46, his kids are about the same age as mine are. He will be greatly missed by friends, family and everyone in the history field.