Almost done

packing that is. Convinced several times during this that I have come across things that I'm almost positive I have thrown away each and every time we've moved.

This is sort of the reverse of packing my plates and wondering how it is that 3 of them have vanished. Ironically, my spoons have dwindled as well. Apparently we're running some sort of Mother Goose halfway house here... (pause to let you work that one out in your head)

We're moving to Kyle...cute tiny...tiny...tiny town. I recognize that this tiny little town will be booming inside of 5 years, I mean we're getting a Home Depot in January! *gasp* But it will be an adjustment lifestyle wise.

As of right now, acceptable dining options revolve around...Dairy Queen (yay!), Domino's, Gil's Fried Chicken and Texas Pie Company. Though interestingly enough, though we're seriously limited in scope in a 2 mile radius, the fried chicken and pies are kick booty.

Right now I live within 10 minutes of downtown Austin, 2 minutes from a Central Market (goat cheese, mmmmmmm), but in some hills that let you pretend you are really roughing it. So a 25 mile march down I-35 is a little rough on me. To tell people how to get to our house, we have to tell them to turn right at 3:16 Pizza. No, that's not the time, that's a Psalm...(as seen on banners in football stadiums nationwide)

I kid you not...

Do you think Holy Pizza will still cause me heartburn...or maybe if it does, that's a divine sign of coming attractions if you don't turn it around? How can I trust religious pizza when they recognize fully that if it disagrees with you, you'll spend the rest of the night in the bathroom, praying? Conflict of interest there..

However, they are about to open a restaurant in town called Bordeaux's.

Hubby and I are laying 10:1 odds that they will not actually SERVE Bordeaux. Rather that they either think that a fancy schmancy French name will give them the justification for charging $11 for chicken fried steak and/or they mistakenly think Bordeaux is a cajun name.

Frites yum yum

Today I ate at Nordstroms...browsing, lunching, my god is there anything better in this universe. Really, I mean...I can't afford to actually buy anythingNordstroms so I'll settle for noshing there. At this Nordstroms cafe they serve a little tiny bowl of Kalamata Olive dip for your french fries.

One wouldn't think you could actually improve on french fries (ok, except for maybe Cheese fries)...but...

Oh heavenly dip, that art in my mouth
Hallowed by thy name

There is such a thing as too Much of a good thing, but this isn't it.

And if you want to APPEAR to be a Nordstrom's shopper without actually..you know..being one, stop in their coffee shop for their version of a mocha frapp. Be sure to wander through the mall with the Nordstroms on said cup pointed outward. "Clearly I am so affluent I even buy my frozen coffee beverages in Nordies." Just be sure to conversely turn your purse around so the "Nine West" label isn't showing.

@#$@# Days 'till Christmas..

I actually had an argument with someone as to whether or not "Sleigh Ride" had words to it. And despite the fact that I could sing it the whole way through for him, only led him to proclaim that I must have made them up on the spot.

Well then damn, I must be GOOD.

(note the use of the word "him"...explains much).

We used to play this song in band in 9th grade, and my friend LuLu played all the percussion bits. I was first flute so we had a direct visual line to each other. We regularly went into 9th grade spasms of laughter over the manner in which one had to play the bells. Don't ask...it's entirely pervy and your brain would be much the worse for knowing.

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You know it's Christmas when, for breakfast, you eat: a bit of Hickory Farms beef stick, a few christmas shaped shortbread with green and red sprinkles, and a slice of altered fruit called a Grapple....which smells like grape Bubble Yum.

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And of course it being Christmas, we finally got around to watching Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. It's taken me all these years to realize just how deeply disturbing this thing is:

Santa: jolly old elf or aryan nation idealist? Rudolphs nose..well it's too big and red! He could NEVER be good enough to join Santas master team of reindeer.

Rudolph: segregated from his reindeer school, and turned away from his true love for his "different color". Not accepted until he can provide some sort of service to THE MAN.

Hermey: clearly gay. His urge to pursue his REAL love has him ostrocized to such a point that he must run away to the Isle of MISFITS.

Bumble: turned into a chained and bound abject slave. Hobbled by removing his teeth and forced to participate in cult like ritual of tree decorating.

Island of MisFit Toys: you realize this is really just like a LEPER colony.

What have I been watching all these year?!

Any connection btwn "crochety" and "crochet"?

Going to lunch with the young'ins again. These are the two girls from my Spanish class, all of 20 and 19. Is there something wrong with me that I get along with them, or something wrong with them that they get along with me? Are we talking lost youth or lost parenting complexes?

Anyway, they're nice gals. Even if one of them had never heard of "Rainbow Connection." Guess I can't expect her to reminisce about the Boogaloos and stirrup pants either.

Last time we had lunch, we browsed through Nordstroms.

Personally I feel decrepitude creeping on me as I walk around the mall going "what the hell is that?" They ooh'd over dress shoes that my brain is trying desperately to accept as fashionable...when it is the very type of shoe that in the 80's crept from fashionable to being the staple of all budget minded, taste disabled, over 70 year olds for the majority of two decades.

But this whole UGG/Sherpa boot thing... Why can't I wrap my mind around this? Do you realize that these things would make most normal womens legs look like a telephone pole with a cow wrapped around it?

Just as I was about to say in the shoe department of Nordstroms: "This isn't a shoe, this is an accessory for driving a team of oxen to market." One of the gals rushed over, gushing. I just don't get it....just how off the mark am I with this particular trend? Is it really bad, or am I officially flung into the depths of blue light hell for my hopelessly behind taste? Maybe I should just give in and gush too, they are practical...after all, how many other shoes allow one to go straight from a tail gate party with your best guy to hunting the great and powerful Himalayan Yeti?

Clearly it's just an age thing...my mind is slipping already. Just the other day, I sat on the couch, thinking about what I need to do re: packing. I fiddle (tap pens, chew somethIng, yadda) when I think, and I just happened to have a half full bottle of water next to me. Deep in thought I start to shake the water up and down...hmmmm...

Would help if the lid were actually screwed ON the bottle. Half a pint of water in the face.

Now that certainly cleared my thoughts right up. Gratefully my padded bra (which sadly, is not so much for padding, as for crane type heft) soaked up the rest of the rebound protecting my laptop from the onslaught.

Aging...it's not so much a slow creep as stepping off a 9 story building with a bottle of Pepto in your hand.

Pi Equals

Who gives a damn anymore! I am officially back to the days when Pi is something with 3.14 scoops of vanilla ice cream! I did it, I did it, I did it. I am DONE DONE DONE with my math requirements. Done with 1/4 of my foreign language requirements. These were the only panic attack things that originally kept me from going back to school and I've just about ridden that beast into the ground If I didn't get an "A" in my Statistics class then something went terribly wrong with my final, which I doubt. Let me tell you how great this is: we started the class with 30 people....23 people dropped.

Who is this woman I have become, the woman who literally weeped during her last math course. I have been possessed by some really kick ass nerd. At this point I almost hate to give up the math momentum, I'd like to see where this sudden Rain Man brain kick will take me. Ummmm...NOT really. But it was nice to go out on a despised subject with a bang.

So for the Lit sorts: I can't wait to finally get into my English Lit subjects again. I helped this girl with her English Lit paper on Horseman, Pass By (I asked her "where's your conclusion?". She said "Conclusion?! But the teacher didn't mention that we had to have a conclusion!" QUE?!.) As I wrote her conclusion (I know, I know), I was literally so impressed with my summary skills that I started kissing myself. I had forgotten that while writing papers, in general, sucked, I always nailed it on the conclusion. Do you think there's a job out there just for people who sum things up? I could be the official "back of the book you should really really buy me" summation writer.

I digress... Anyway, I consider this my annual moment to pat my own back. When you're up to your elbows in packing material you have to take a moment to flex your ego.

Speaking of packing:

You have those moments in dealing with men, in which they are so stereotypical you're not sure whether to laugh or cry. What are men, really, but 8 year old boys?

I have been packing for a while now. The bulk of the packing has fallen on me, because of course, I am home the most. I have plowed through this house (wondering where the HELL I have been able to store all this CRAP...it's like it materializes out of thin air). A few hours each day for a week, I've done boxes upon boxes.

I have tried to not be a little resentful, I mean I am lucky enough to just be a student, hubby is working. But this is the THIRD TIME I've had to manage the packing. First time the man got a job in Houston and had to start work early, leaving me behind to coordinate, second time when he got a job here and I stayed behind in Houston. The few boxes he ever packed, his idea of packing was upending drawers into boxes and then two weeks later saying "where the HELL is my _______"

It just sucks, packing does. But I recognize this is me being selfish and childish and that I need to get over it. However... I told the man that he needed to pack up his desk..by Sunday night. I am not touching that rat's nest. I tried to help out. I filed three months of papers he'd left on his desk and shredded 8 months of papers he'd put away to shred. I already packed all his books and binders. So Sunday...of course...he started on his desk.

First I heard him clicking on the computer mouse. "Whatcha doin'?" "ooooh, just reimaging my hard drive." *clench teeth* ok.

While I was waiting for him to get done: I cleaned out the fridge and pantry, packed up the two bathrooms and did 3 loads of laundry.

This morning, he asks me to come over to his desk. He proudly sweeps his hand towards the desk to show me his work of art. He has packed two drawers: one had his supplies in it, that were already in a plastic bin. All he had to do was snap the lid on and set it in a box. The other drawer held a box of checks and a pair of binoculars, miscell. drawer of misfit toys.

He assured me that the things that were left on his desk he just didn't have room in a box for. There are 4 empty boxes already assembled in the dining room. It took him 5 hours to pack a 2' x 2' box (10 minutes packing, 4 hrs. 50 minutes of organizing pens.)

He is VERY proud of himself.

I just smiled at him sickly...why fight it. It's genetics.

But he did take out the trash. I'm very touched.

Alack Big Mac Bill, I knew thee well

Having other people cook for me...the only reason I can imagine wanting to be president. If there's a red phone for nuclear attack, what do you think they have for a 3 am Club sandwich? Would they install a speakerphone in the shape of a clowns head in the presidential bedroom? Oh wait...they have that in there now anyway.

All Hail to thine sister

Though she doesn't know it yet, my sister got me started on this. Mainly through a maddening attempt to hijack a .jpg file from her own blogspot, I ended up in the murky depths of links. From her blog, to "Hello" website to this. I'm not sure I'll be able to keep this up...most of my material comes as an offshoot or inspiration from someone elses comments. Not certain how to..ummm..comment to myself?