Miscellany

Last Friday, Friend Omega came up from San Diego to watch the Oregon Oklahoma game. He brought along someone--Guy Who Defies Aging--and we all hung out for a few hours. We went first to one sports bar, and then a second one. The latter was on campus, and filled with Sooner fans. I learned the fight song (sort of) and drank a gin and tonic. They talked football and show tunes, and it was frightening to watch them switch back and forth from the two. But we had a good time, and I'm glad Omega came up.

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Last night, flush with the new job news, I took the kids out for sushi (cheap sushi, which is not really cheap), then on to buy a few more school clothes. Thing One picked out two pairs of gauchos and two matching shirts, layered looking things with embroidery on the front. This morning, she dressed in black gauchos and a dark blue shirt. She looked like she was 8 going on 16.

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Friend Two is giving a plenary panel presentation on Thursday in which, as an example of how "language is used to obscure meaning" he outs one of my best performances from our pedagogy seminar, where I made up the phrase "discrete discourse communities" when I talked about teaching techniques. What's a "discrete discourse community" you ask? It's a small group, people. I put them in small groups. Basically, the only thing I contributed to the Comp. program is that phrase, and now Friend Two is going to ruin even that. Damn you Friend Two!

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I have this bad ankle--my right. Years of soccer when I was younger, a fracture, a few really terrible sprains, and it went weak on me. Now, I have to be mindful of it. I don't typically wear heels (already I am tall, so this is acceptable), unless we're talking chunky heeled boots. Yesterday, I was wearing a new pair of Mary Janes, walking downtown with my coworker, when the slight heel on the right shoe caught in a tree grate. My ankle made an audible popping noise and down I went. It was mostly embarassing, and while I was sore, I figured I hadn't hurt myself much. Until last night, anyway, when I glanced my right forearm against the kitchen counter, hit something in there. The pain was excruciating. Now it's a little swollen, there's a sizable lump, but it doesn't really hurt unless I press on that particular spot.

I know, I know. I'll stop pressing on the spot.

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Friend Two and I leave for Big Sky Country early Friday morning, the day my divorce is finalized. As it turns out, I will likely not have to appear in court, as my lawyer is going to present the appropriate paperwork to the judge today. It's eerily anti-climatic, all of it.

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I rented a movie. Which is now late. Also, I haven't watched it yet. Also, I still have my two old Netflix.

I think I need a movie intervention.

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Kari and I are still planning the Thankgiving trip. Right now I'm thinking Thailand would be fab. Kari?

*tm

Comments

[Nailbiting yet still Hip Single Mother]

I love it when they dress like flatchested and relatively demure college freshmen. LOVE IT. Love the forays into accessorizing, glitter, hairties and wheeled sneakers. My own feral child asked me if she could use my deodorant the other day--she wanted very much to slide it onto her pristine underarm. I had to go into my room and laugh.

[Alana]

Hey TM (and Nailbiting Yet Still Hip Single Mom, since you might appreciate this too:)

My kiddo is already worried about shaving, as in his balls. I kid you not!!! He has told me twice he does not want to grow hair on his balls, and I told him, "It's OK, honey. It won't happen for a while."

(See I read him this book called "What's Happening to Me: A Guide To Puberty," which is a marvelous book, and we had fun reading it together, and it sparked a great discussion, and so I recommend it to other parents for sure) but ever since then my kiddo doesn't want to grow hair on his balls.

God, I know, it makes me laugh.

Anyway, so then he came up with the idea he'd shave his balls. Except ten minutes later he said, "But that might hurt."

So I told him, "Listen, honey, by the time you get hair on your balls you won't mind it. Trust me. You'll have other things on your mind by then."

Peace,
A

[Friend Omega]

i hate shaving my balls.

what, it's only okay if a six-year-old says it?

perverts.

[Terrible Mother]

I blame all of you for this comment section.

Jesus Christ, people!

[Alana]

Sorry if I offended anyone (TM.) I thought it was a cute story about my kid.

A

[Terrible Mother]

No, no, A. I was ribbin' ya. It is a cute story. I loved it.

I was mostly thinking something along the lines of "I have the best, most creative, readership in the world."

Think of it as a DB-like response. The "Jesus Christs!" I mean.

[Friend Omega]

i do not really think that you are a pervert, alana. even if you were, i wouldn't.

it's just... well. you'll get used to me.