As pointed out by Mikey, the guestbook underwent a bit of unintended surgery. However, the sacrifice was not in vain.
Please put your hands together for……The GuestMap!!!!
Just trying to keep your web-reading experience interactive. All that reading can be boring, I know, you here’s your chance to streach your fingers and leave your very own splat on our humble map.
Thank you. You can now go back to work.
The good news, this weekend nothing broke.
That’s right, the car drove, the plumbing ran, and the dryer heated. For the first time in forever, there were no mechanical emergencies for the McLaughlin household. In all honesty, it was rather a let down not to pull out the old tool set and spend all day long yelling at a piece to machinery.
The bad news, this weekend I discovered TV Land.
Now, I don’t know if this is just a weekend thing but there is cable station that plays TV show marathons all-weekend-long. Last weekend, they had 48 hours of the Facts of Life. That’s right, back to back hilarity with Jo, Tuti, Blaire and Natalie. I couldn’t stop myself.
I discovered The Facts of Life at 11am on Saturday morning and it wasn’t until 10pm Sunday when Kevin forced me to turn it off. When I left, Jo and Blaire were at Langley while Natalie and Tuti were still finishing up high school at Eastland. I needed help.
But it was so easy. I mean, I could wander in and out of the room without worrying I would lose the plot line since there was none. Didn’t have to channel surf at the end of every hour looking for another show to watch ‘cause the next episode came on lickity split. I could tune in and out at will. It was heaven. Of course, I’m still humming that damn theme song. You take the good, you take the bad, you take them both and there you have, the facts of life… Did you know that there is a different verse that runs over the ending credits? I know! How exciting is that??? Or how about how the girls ended up living with Mrs. Garrett above the cafeteria? And who among us remembers that Facts of Live was a spin off from Different Strokes? Was this a productive use of a weekend or what!
The good news is, next weekend I think they are doing 48 hours of I Love Lucy. At least that theme show doesn’t have any words.
(Somebody, please call AT&T and shut of my cable. I need help.)
Kevin sucks when it comes to sympathy. He has no idea how to baby someone. Instead of loving kindness, he gets all impatient and exasperated. This is why when I am feeling unwell, I banish him to the depths of the basement rather then listen to his exasperated sighing and grumbling as to why I can’t get off my lazy butt and clean the kitchen seeing as how it’s just a little temperature.
Thursday morning I didn’t feel so hot. I had eaten a very rich lamb dinner that was very very rare and it really didn’t sit well with me. It tasted good at the time but my poor stomach had a very hard time processing it. I was up tossing and turning all night and by morning, I was severely ill.
So Kevin comes downstairs to find me getting a lime soda and an apple from the fridge instead of the usual pastry and coffee.
“What’s up with the soda?” he asks as he rummages for his wallet and keys.
“My tummy doesn’t feel so good,” I reply slowly. I found moving too quickly maked me feel even worse and slowly shuffled out of the kitchen to get my jacket.
“Suck it up,” Kevin replied without even glancing at me “and take a couple of tums.” He then wanders off to find his shoes.
I manage to drag myself to the MAX station and find a seat when I break out in a sweat and feel my stomach begin to heave. I ended up chanting the Skippy Peanut Butter song to myself the whole ride in. For some reason, this songs has always comforted me. You know, “Momma loves me, loves a bunch, ‘cause she always puts Skippy’s….. in my lunch.” (The truly strange part is I hate peanut butter and my mom never made me PB&J as a kid so I have no idea why I love that song so much.) However, in time of great physical distress, I use this song as a mantra and it soothes me.
I almost made it to work when the guy sitting next to me begins to caress my leg. My first response is to throw up on him but I decided to take the high road and just got off the MAX early. I ended up sitting on a bench with my head between my legs for 20 minutes before I could get back on and finish the ride to work. By the time I got to the office, I was soaking with sweat and made a bee line for the bathroom.
I managed to turn on my computer and sat huddled over my trash can for a while telling myself to just “suck it up”. My friend Laura, after seeing my white face and shaky hands, took matters into her own hands. She grabbed the trash can and drove me home where I could be sick in the privacy of my own home.
When Kevin returned from work, he found me passed out on the sofa having gotten over the worst of it. His response? I should have taken the Tums like he said. Don’t worry, next time he’s sick, I know just how to play it.
Oh man am I getting old. My 10 year high school reunion is set for the end of this month. Ten years!!! I simply can’t believe it. First the grey hairs, now this. It’s all moving too quickly for me.
The worst part is that the reunion is going to be held on the beach in winter. That’s right, we were advised to wear sweat pants and sweat shirts. Yes, this is how I want to be remembered by the classmates, clad in an old pair of sweats. I was all set to draw on the power of my boots and now I’ve been denied.
Even worse, it looks like Kevin won’t be coming with me so I’ll have to brave the event alone. Due to a very hectic work load, my hubby will be MIA. I’m secretly hoping we find some last minute super cheat airfare and he came come too. Of course, I bet he’s secretly hoping it doesn’t happen. After all, he’s looking at a weekend without me to boss him around and make him do chores and other icky stuff. Not a bad deal really. Just Kevin, the poocheese, and the computer.
I am, however, looking forward to going home. It’s been forever and I simply can’t pass up the chance to see a pregnant Suzy. From the pictures I’ve seen, she looks ready to pop and she has still go three months to go.
Maybe I can figure out a way to wear my boots with my sweats. Yeah, that’s the ticket….
After talking it over with Elmo, Kevin decided not to try and change the blown belt. As we have no garage, the idea of lying under the car in the pouring rain just didn’t quite peak Kevin’s interest. Instead, he found a local Volvo shop and took it in. Half and hour and 30 bucks later, the old Volvo was as good as new.
The guys down at the shop, however, were impressed. “We don’t see a lot of ‘87 740’s here,” the repair man said, looking over the old ovlov. “When’d the belt go?” he asked Kevin.
“Yesterday,” Kev replied, proud to have brought in such a fine specimen of a 740.
“Well,” the guy replied, “you could keep driving it for a while.”
Kevin looked aghast. “But that would hurt the car!” he cried in despair.
The mechanic looked at Kev and said, “Man, you sure must love this car.”
Damn straight we love the Volvo! Kevin proceeded to the waiting room where he spied the latest IPA catalogue. “Cool!” he exclaimed as he settled in to wait for his baby.
The mechanic looked surprised that Kevin knew about IPA. “You do your own work?” he asked.
“Oh yeah,” Kevin fudged a little on this one. “I’d replace the belt myself but I don’t have a garage and with the rain and all, I thought I’d bring it in.”
The mechanic looked at Kevin with new found respect and managed to squeeze in our Volvo even though they were booked solid and were down on mechanic. So the Volvo is back and kicking!
Thanks to my friend Heather, I got to see Harry Potter last night.
I suppose it was wasted on me because I haven’t read any of the books and have pretty much managed to sidestep the whole hype. Strangely enough, Heather was in a bar on Saturday night where they were handing out free “sneak preview” passes. Now, this is a kids movie, right? So why are the passes being handed out in a bar on Sat night? Heather didn’t ask any questions, just grabbed three passes – good girl.
When she called with the good news, I knew we had to invite Kat. If anyone is a HP fan, it’s her. Rumor has it she waited in line to buy the latest HP book and loved them all. So the three of us wound up in the theater surround by hordes and hordes and hordes and hordes of kids. I mean, you couldn’t spit without hitting someone under 4 ft tall.
Before starting, they announced the movie was 2.5 hours long so if anyone had to pee, now would be the time. 50 nine year olds and myself dutifully tromped into the bathroom and back. (Hey, my mom taught me well, what can I say?)
And then the movie began. It was very good and didn’t feel like it was 2.5 hours long. In fact, the small person next to me managed to sit thought the whole thing and only had to cover her eyes once. Now, if you have children or have every babysat, I think you will realize the import of the fact that this movie managed to keep all these little squirmy people seated and quiet for over two hours. Wow. Unlike most Disney flicks, this one didn’t have any “adult humor” where the parents chuckle and the kids ask, “what happened?” The only questions that came from the kid by me where – “Mom, what does that say?”
Oddly enough, even though the short folks can’t read, they can recognize when there is writing. So every time there was a sign or a book or a letter that the audience had to read, the munchkin next to mean would lean into her mom and ask for a verbal interpretation. Smart kid.
The whole movie gave me a flash back to 7th grade when Becky Marshall and I used to pretend we were witches. We’d go down to the lower field by the fence and make up all sorts of strange stuff that I have managed to block from my memory. I think the biggest pull for me was the ability to fly. I would have signed on for that part alone given the chance.
But the movie was goods and the effects were very well done. Maybe I’ll read the book so I can decide if they did it justice but according to Kat and Heather, they were spot on.