Here in Idaho

We're Moving!

2006-10-10T21:03:00.000-07:00

Here In Idaho is in the process of moving from here-in-idaho.blogspot.com to this site, here-in-idaho.com.

The move has not been as smooth as we were hoping. The import from blogger beta didn't work, so we were only able to import the first few posts and no comments. We're working on it now and hoping to get the old content transferred over quickly. In the mean time, you can view here-in-idaho.blogspot.com for archives.

Prepare to be amazed.

2006-10-10T15:50:00.000-07:00

Click here.

Americans aren't the only ones with messed-up, crazy leaders. Look at what I found...

2006-10-08T23:35:00.000-07:00

October 9, 2006

Dear Diary,

Today I detonated North Korea's first atomic bomb. I bet the capitalist Americans are FREAKING OUT lol. And the chinese mainland...I hate those guys. They're always in my space. And I think they're stalking my Myspace page...I keep getting spam and "ur a looser." on my comments. I'll show them ha ha ha.

So anyways, I just thought I'd journal out my feelings 2night. I think that I'm going to mess with the UN for a while before I hide my bombs. I need some new furniture (totally trashed the place after my last D & D party). So I'm gonna see if I can get some new stuff for my place from the UN. My big screen tv is effing on the blitz again. Peace of crap. Probably made by the Chinese. I'll get them for that lol.

Speaking of tv, I need to check my tivo. I missed the premier of Lost (busy with H-bombz) so I need to catch up. OMSelf! I almost forgot...I totally FREAKED out when my girl Vivica was eliminated from Dancing With the Stars! I needs to hook up with her. She is hott. I tried to message her on myspace but I think it wasn't really her site. The pictures on her page looked like they were of a drag queen. He was still hott, lol.

I think I need to start working out. All of the national paintings of me show this fugly double chin I've got going on. What's up with that? Maybe it's time to get some work done...uh-oh though, don't want to turn out like Janice Dickinson ha ha ha.

So I best be going. I got some wicked work to get done before I start messin' with Kofi. I think I'm going to be all, "Yeah...I'll hand over my bombs for reals. Psyyyyych!" My job rocks.

Peace,

Kim

There's too many to choose from. TOO MANY, I TELL YOU!!

2006-10-08T19:22:00.000-07:00

So we began with the Good Girl's Guide to Seventies Cinema. To which, by the way, I officially add Paper Moon. And then we covered the Not-Quite-As-Good Girl's Guide to Movies of the 1960s. Followed by Boring Title for a Boring Decade, except for the ones featuring Marlon Brando: Movies of the 1950s.

Before beginning my loving tribute to my favorite decade in movie making, at least my other favorite decade, I should inform the unintiated reader that I am a lover of old films. L-O-V-E-R with a capital FREAK when it comes to movies of the 1930s and 1940s. So writing this post and narrowing down my favorites may be, no will be, the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. Ever. It's go-time.

It's a Wonderful Life - I already wrote an extensive tribute to this film over here, so I'm not going to gush any more than I already did. Except to say this is the finest movie of the decade. And for sentimental suckers like me, possibly of all time.

The Philadelphia Story - "My feet are made of clay, made of clay. Did you know?"

My other favorite movie of all time. Mr. CaryGrant, Mr. Jimmy Stewart, Lovely Miss Katharine Hepburn...they just need to slap some Judy Garland and Gene Kelly up in there and I'd straight-up do the robot in pure joy.

Mr. CaryGrant Stars in... I tried to pick another favorite but I couldn't. And you can't make me. He has three stand-outs of the 1940s. His Girl Friday, My Favorite Wife, and Mr. Blandings Builds his Dream House . Look up the word "charming" in the dictionary. This is what you'll see. Look up "double-take", and while you're there, look up "best comedic timing ever. EVER." Mr. Cary Grant. The only man that can make George Clooney look like a buffoon.

Dumbo- The part...with the...mama elephant...and the bars...and the chain...I can't even write about it without falling apart. Excuse me.

Meet Me in St. Louis - Liza Minnelli was concieved because of this movie. You so needed to know that. This is the story of a Victorian family living in St. Louis in 1904. Sort of a "year in the life" of this family. And that's it...not much drama, not much suspense. MMISL is just a pretty little picture of a pretty little time that probably never existed as prettily as it did in the movie. Sort of like Norman Rockwell paintings. You'd like to think things used to be so lovely, but deep down you know better. Judy Garland is in this one. And she's adorable.

The Maltese Falcon - "When you're slapped, you'll take it and you'll like it." Don't fool with Sam Spade. He'll mess you up.

Mr. Smith Goes to Washington - Make your kids watch this. Make your neighbor watch this. Make your congressman watch this...but keep an eye on your congressman. Don't let him get fresh with your kids.

Spencer Tracy, Katharine Hepburn star in - Adam's Rib and Woman of the Year. Once more, I couldn't choose. But keep your eye on Hepburn in both of them. She didn't need Gloria Steinem to teach her how to assert herself. What a woman.

Citizen Kane - Rooooossseebuuud....Citizen Kane isn't all about doom and gloom, you know. Witness debauchery filmed below:

Exactly what I imagine the Blogher conference looked like. Only less male.

Mildred Pierce - Back when shoulder pads and highly arched eyebrows = glamour, Joan Crawford pulled off this masterpiece. That's right, I said Joan "no wire hangers!" Crawford. Watch this movie and then keep an eye on your daughters....your backstabbing, conniving, manipulative daughters... Not now, Ava...I'm writing my blog!

And finally,

Casablanca - I think that there is a law somewhere requiring everyone alive to see Casablanca. I'm not sure if it's federal law...or just part of Bush's sweeping Patriotic Act initiatives...but I know it's on the books. So get this in your Netflix queue before the Minute-Men come and lock up your sorry self. And the scene below, this very scene, is one of my favorite moments ever recorded on film. Viva La France!

There you have it. My favorite movies from my favorite decade. And I could've kept going. So when I see this nonsense those Hollywood schmucks try to jam down our throats these days, I know better. Those fools have got nothing on these guys.

Husbands say the sweetest things.

2006-10-08T06:13:00.000-07:00

5:30 am

Me (whispering): Bye, darling. I'm going to work. I took $2 from your wallet.

Will (sleeping): Don't take money from me. I'll knock you out.

Me: snicker, snicker

Will: I'll come after you with a club.

Me: Bye, darling. Have a good morning.

Will: You, too.

That Will...he's such a card.

Get your certificate. Jerk.

2006-10-07T13:34:00.000-07:00

Congratulations.
Riley won legit. Maybe.
No, I'm not jealous.

Where have all the Audreys gone?

2006-10-06T12:05:00.000-07:00

It's time for a gratuitous exercise in celebrity bashing. I'm thinking of making it a weekly feature. As in, where have all the Audrey's gone? Fridays. Audrey, who exuded elegance, and who's sophistication is decidely lacking in today's celebrity personas. Today I'm going to pick on someone very near and dear to my heart. At least the part of my heart that abhors talent.

How far can one travel on the strength of their personality alone? Let's look at Madonna, shall we? I fall into the avid Madonna-disliker category. Some of you may be now stuffing non-descript envelopes with explosives to send to my door at this very moment. Just pause a second. I'm going somewhere with this.

Madonna, Madonna, Madonna. When I was a little girl, like most little girls, I loved running around singing "Like a Virgin." Rolling around on the floor, crawling in my pretend wedding dress...good times. I adored Madonna. I think I even had a poster of her in my room. Crispy hair, GINORMOUS eyebrow...she was the bomb. When I was eight. Then she went through her clown face stage, and then look-at-me-I'm-hispanic stage, and so on and so forth. So while I was growing up, Madonna was just getting new hair cuts. The media loves to call this "evolving" and "controversial" . I call it "getting a new haircut" and "bastardizing religious symbols for your own promotion." Ouch. Put those bombs away, my friends. I'm still going somewhere with this.

But she pulls it off. She has a couple of dissenters like me, but it seems that most of the world community thinks she's cool and who am I to say they're wrong? Well...I'm Kristi and I say they're wrong, but that's besides the point. Madonna has made an empire based on the strength of her personality. How many of you know 11th grade choir girls who can sing better than Madonna? Don't answer that. What she lacks in talent, she makes up for in bravado.

Where am I going with this? I'll tell you.

Here in the blogging world, there are a handful of people who make their livings off of their blogs. Do you understand the words that are coming out of my mouf? They don't have real jobs. They blog and their ad revenue makes them enough money to sustain themselves and their families. I know. It's crazy. Crazy-like how do I get on that crazy-train? Apparently it has something to do with something called traffic. It's all a mystery to me.

So in my new-found passion to emulate Madonna in order to generate web traffic, I think I'm going to be making a few changes. For one, I'm going to start mocking all things spiritual by stealing your cultural identity and claiming it for my own. This week I'm Asian. Call me Kristi-San. Next week I'll be Indian. Dots, not feathers. And if you're offended, call Madonna. She's already covered this ground, so it's ok.

Second, I'm going to start writing crappy songs. Here's my first one (to be sung to the tune of Madonna's "Music"):

Hey Mr. Charlie, time to go to school.
It's time to start our homeschool.
Reading...makes the children...smarter...yeah.
Reading...makes the children...smarter...yeah.

Third, obviously I need to be showing some more skin up here. So, I'm warning you now, in the future I will be flashing midriff and possibly boobs if you're lucky. Yes. I know Madonna works out really hard to get those freaky arms that could decapitate small children, but "fitness" is her "look". I can't go for that look because it's her look. My "look" is what I call "not-fit and a little bit flabby." Believe me, there are some people who really go for that. Sickos.

Alright, then. It's the new me. The Madonna-esque me. Let the checks start rolling in!!!!

Is this how I'm supposed to be writing?

2006-10-05T08:32:00.000-07:00

I give you the following:

By FRAZIER MOORE AP Television Writer

NEW YORK Oct 4, 2006 (AP)— "Lost" settled a few questions sort of while posing many more on the premiere of its third season Wednesday.

Do you see this syntax? This would be like me saying, "I should be starting math sort of but I'm at the computer freaking out over an AP writer's sentence structure."

I'm not a grammar nazi. It's one thing to leave out correct capitalization and punctuation on your emails or text messages. But I've noticed that national publications are getting sloppy, as well. And this is scary. Once the papers forget the rules, you forget the rules, we'll forget the rules, it'll be anarchy!

That's all.

No, I do not know what these words are. Yes, that makes me stupid.

2006-10-04T16:53:00.000-07:00

Beck over at Frog and Toad are Friends has given me four words to define. Beck, who is so smart that she used the word "clement" in a recent post, which I had to look up. Mild weather. Duh.

I assume I'm not allowed to look these words up. So I'm guessing. Here are her words for me:

Callipygian - Semi-retarded cousins of the Egyptians. As in, "The Callipygians disappeared from history after a misguided and ill-timed attempt to conquer Egypt using pretty scarves and blunted beadwork."

Cholera: Deadly disease. I think it's transmitted by water. Which is why I drink Dr. Pepper. If all the people of the 3rd world drank Dr. Pepper, they wouldn't get the cholera. And not to be confused with chlamydia, which is a disease of your dirty parts.

Circumnavigate: My purpose in blogging. As in, "Why do you blog?" "Oh, I'm circumnavigating my children" You say avoid, I say circumnavigate. Let's call the whole thing off.

Calliope: A children's show that used to be on USA when I was a kid. All I remember is "Hey Kids! It's time for Calliope!" Or I could have just dreamed up that show and it's all in my head. In which case, Calliope is the new trendy name among white middle class Americans. Only they spell it Kalliahpee.

Oh dang. I just looked up the two words I didn't know. I suck. And I also suck because I'm not going to tag anyone with my own words. Only because I've spent so much time blogging today that I don't have the clevertude to come up with four funny words.

I read the news today, oh boy.

2006-10-04T16:48:00.000-07:00

Inspired by Phat Mommy, this is my own Day in the Life.

6:15 Hear Ava crying over a wet bed. Get up, change her sheets, give her a washcloth for her legs and some clean clothes. Go back to bed.

7:30 Get up for real as Will is leaving for work. Make everyone get dressed and make their beds.

7:45 Make breakfast: fried eggs, toast, hot chocolate. Clean up the kitchen.

8:15 Shuffle kids into the bathroom to brush teeth and wash off the hot chocolate. Change Ava's chocolaty shirt. Start a load of laundry.

8:20 Remind everyone it's a school day and we need to meet at the table in 5 minutes.

8:30 Remind everyone again and give them another five minutes.

8:45 Finally started math. Juliet is ordering numbers 1-15 and Charlie is working with place value. Ava is looking for ways to make me lose my mind. I require that we spend a solid hour on math, even if I have to add some math drills to do a whole hour. Realize I forgot to do calendar time with the girls. Oh well.

9:45 Charlie starts his spelling work. He works independantly while I do phonics work with Juliet. Ava has been too whiny to participate. I decide I'll work with her later and set out some toys for her to play with.

9:54 Call out for Ava. No answer. Find her naked in my room, trying to make her Dr. Suess cd play in an unplugged cd player. Get her some clothes and send her out of the room.

10:15 Charlie starts memory work in his room. He is learning the Preamble to the Constitution. Juliet works on writing sentences. I realize I've lost Juliet's memory work tape and I have to make another one. Not now.

10:25 Ava is crying for me to play Connect Four with her. I tell her it's still school time and I need to be doing school. She starts a temper tantrum. I put her in her room. I type up Charlie's grammar test.

10:35 Juliet listens to the Latin cd.

10:40 Juliet makes herself a pumpkin mask. Charlie starts Latin. Ava comes out of the room and tries to make herself her own mask. All of the glues are dried up so I hunt down some glue from my scrapbooking junk. Passing a mirror, I realize I've had dried hot chocolate on the bridge of my nose all morning.

10:45 Return to the living room. Discover Charlie using a yard stick to do some sort of dual light saber fighting. Ava is climbing the school supply shelf in search of "really sharp scissors for her mask." I send Charlie to my room with his grammar test to finish. I give Ava some not-sharp scissors and set her back at her seat.

11:20 Charlie finishes his test. Morning work is over. I start another load of laundry and heat up the oven for lunch. Chicken nuggets for them and some sort of leftover chili-sandwich concoction for me. Charlie puts Peter Pan into the dvd player. I sit down at the computer for my 2 hour sabbatical from school.

11:25 Peter Pan is too scratched up to play. We stick in The Fantastic Four cartoon. Juliet starts a tantrum because the "elastic guy isn't funny." She goes to her room. Comes back to eat lunch.

12:20 Kids are sent to the room for "room time". This is one hour when they are supposed to play on their beds, read, or listen to a book on tape. I have about 5 minutes before Ava shows up in my room asking if it's time to get up yet. I'm starting All the King's Men. I fall asleep.

1:30 Ava emerges from the room with a bleeding lip. While dealing with them, I let Charlie know we're starting school again at 2:00. I then call our neighbor and invite her son over to play with Charlie after school.

1:45 The lip stopped bleeding. The girls listen to the Dr. Suess cd in the hall. I don't know why they're in the hall. I do not know at all.

2:00 Oops....I was supposed to pay the rent yesterday. I need to go do that right away before his friend gets here at 3. And I need a Dr. Pepper.

2:16 Haven't left yet. WHERE ARE ALL OUR SOCKS????? For the love of all that is holy, WHERE ARE OUR SOCKS?

2:48 Squeeze some history in as fast as we can. Our history book is talking about the Eastern Roman Empire today. No lie. Juliet is crying because the glitter glue is dried out and she can't decorate her castle drawing. Charlie is mad because he can't abbreviate 'Constantinople'. Turkish delight, on a moonlit night.

3:30 Neighbor-boy arrives. Juliet promptly shows him her new bathing suit. I send them outside while I play Connect Four with Ava.

4:00 I stick in a Kipper dvd for Ava and preheat the oven for dinner. Make a mental note that Charlie hasn't read to me today so we need to cover that tomorrow.

So the rest of my day will consist of more domestic bliss and more of me sitting at the computer avoiding domestic bliss. Reading this post reminds me of the whole Mommy War discussion that raged last spring. Some women are questioning why so many educated and otherwise competitive women are choosing to spend their days hoping to avoid pee puddles on the bathroom floor rather than contributing to the workforce.

I don't know. I don't have an answer. I will say that staying home is harder than working with adults. At least for me. But it's my work and my family that I'm working for. Not someone else's. But this life is not, I repeat not for everyone. And I have my days when it's not for me, either. But today wasn't one of those days. Today was a'ight.

I've got to go scrub some potaters now. And come back to my page this evening. I'll have surprise for you.

Watch out fools...this one's mine!

2006-10-02T11:42:00.000-07:00

Our friend Justin, over at The Daily Hasselhoff, has got a rock and roll contest going on right now. The Hasselhoff Haiku Showdown! or, as I call it, the Writing Assignment of my DREAMS! Up for grabs is a $25 Amazon gift certificate. So go check it out before I win that mutha for myself.

I will never be able to look at that baby with a straight face.

2006-10-01T06:53:00.000-07:00

While in Texas we visited our friends Paul and Caryn. I'll preface the rest of this post by letting you know that most conversations with Paul and Caryn, no matter how serious and well-intentioned, usually digress into some exercise in silliness and sarcasm. So let's say we're talking about, oh, I don't know, the Holocaust. The conversation will still end in all of us rolling on the floor laughing. I'm not saying it's right, I'm just saying it's true.

So Paul and Caryn are expecting their first child. The DNA bloodwork (!!!!) shows it's a girl and they are still brainstorming names. I have a strong and freakish desire to name other people's children so I start throwing out some of my favorites. Alas, the Williamses and the Harrisons favor vastly different name preferences and the name brainstorming ends in a disappointing disgrace.

Then I had an idea. I give you the following conversation, to the best of my recollection.

"You know you could always name her after your favorite literary or movie character."

"Like, Murchoch Williams?"

"JackChrissyJanet Williams."

"JackChrissyJanetTerry Williams."

"JackChrissyJanetTerry...I don't know the name of the other one."

"I don't either but I know her real name. It's Jennilee Harris. It's sad that I know that."

"Yes it is."

"Mrs. Roper Williams."

"Mr. Furley Williams."

Things start getting out of control from here on out. Picture four grown a** adults laughing themselves to utter illness while continuing this conversation.

"We could get her a little leisure suit that zips up."

"With medallions."

"No, a little ascot."

"She could go around threatening everyone with her karate chops." Paul puckers his mouth and starts doing the Furley mock-karate moves.

"This is our daughter, Mr. Furley Williams."

"Her monogram would be MFW."

"Her baby dedication in front of the church: Congregation, do you promise to love and pray for little Mr. Furley Williams?"

"Dear Jesus, please watch over Mr. Furley Williams. Help her parents raise her to know you..."

"Your little dancer silhouette on the back of your Tahoe will say Mr. Furley."

"So the parking lot will read McKenzie, Mackensy, MccKKynzi, Mr. Furley, MkKinsey..."

"First day of school...'Have a good time, Mr. Furley. I love you, Mr. Furley."

"Good job, Mr. Furley! I'm so proud of you!"

"Oh no..."

"What?"

"She have to learn how to write her name. 'Capital M, lower case R, period. Finger space, capital F..."

It was all over after that.

The sad thing is that I'm going to be secretly calling this unborn child Mr. Furley until the day I die. She's going to know me as the crazy lady who leaves the room laughing everytime I see her.

And friends are friends forever...

2006-09-30T18:47:00.000-07:00

Curses to you, Michael W. Smith, for writing the best friendship song EVER!

I need to issue a formal apology to my own family (mom, sisters, nephew, brother) because their pictures are loaded on a cd buried somewhere in one of our 32 suitcases. They will be posted soon. I promise.

My girls and their new cousin Kaitlyn, or as Ava and Juliet call her, Kutie-Grace.

I have no idea who this is. Put those guns away, cowboys.

Charlie caught a whopper.

I picked this guy up at a local bar. I said, "Hey baby, looking for a good time?" He said, "If you're selling, I'm buying."

Fellow former speech club nerd and anonymous reader extraordinaire, Giraldo.

Four girls who rocked Hardin-Simmons University in 1994.

...And seven of the eight children they now hold dominion over.

So all is well in coooooool Idaho. The windows are open, the babies are in bed and the daiquiries are being blended. This is the part where I eat some dinner and count my lucky stars for a blessed life.

I'm leaving on a jet plane. Don't know when I'll be back again.

2006-09-29T11:26:00.000-07:00

Oh Texas, I hate to go.

When I get back to Idaho I'll post mucho pictures of friends and family and good times. Unless some of my friends and family prefer anonyminiinininty, in which case I'll use the Glamour Magazine "don't" rectangular black eye shading to protect their identities.

So I should be finishing up packing now. Right now. Any minute now. Still thinking...about...getting....up...and....away...from...this....computer...

Alright. Goodnight and good luck from Texas. Next time I'll be typing I'll be in Idaprude. Tee hee.

Are you wearing lip gloss or are your lips just greasy?

2006-09-25T21:26:00.000-07:00

This is why I could never be a real writer. I've got nuthin' going on in my noggin' right now. Between family stuff, meeting up with my favorite Texans and spending time with my newly arrived husband, I haven't had the energy to jot down humorous anecdotes or political commentary.

I had one on Hugo Chavez but I accidently erased tit. (I'm giggling because I mistyped that last word...hee hee. Tit.)

Soooo anyhooo...what's an busy-heeded gal to do when she's got nothing to write about? A kreme, of course. A kreme? you say, what's a kreme? Glad you axed. Let me tell you. A kreme is a meme written by me, Kristi. Kreme. If my mama had spelled my name like this -Christy, it would be a chreme. Easy enough.

So today's kreme consists of completely random questions that I come up with in the next 10 minutes. There is no theme. Maybe this isn't like a meme at all....maybe the correct word is "questionaire".

Favorite president of all time: Abraham Lincoln
Who would you like to meet if you had a time machine: Jesus first, Elvis 2nd. Elvis in about 1956.
Favorite teacher of all time: Mrs. Anders, 3rd grade, Rowland Elementary, Victoria, Tx
First boyfriend: Will is the first I claim. I don't count the youth group boy from my jr. high years.
Favorite talk show host: Dick Cavett and Terry Gross
Least favorite talk show host: Jay Leno
Willy Wonka or Charlie and the Chocolate Factory: Charlie. The other one freaks me out. Psychadelic boat ride...FREAKS!
Katharine Hepburn or Audrey Hepburn: I can't choose! Why am I asking myself to choose??!!
Favorite element on the periodic table: radon
Favorite movie ever: The Royal Tenebaums ties with American Graffiti
Favorite line from a movie: My legs are sweatin' mama. (20 points if you can identify the movie).
Most useless skill: I can tie my hair in knots with one hand. Learned that in church. I'm also pretty good at hand clapping...as in "Down down baby, down by the roller coaster..."
Most valuable skill: I've taught my kids how to read. And knowing random song lyrics comes in handy occasionally. Oh...and I can predict the future by blinking three times and spitting on a crack in the sidewalk. I think sarcasm is useful but not everyone agrees.
Best feature: Will says I have fantastic boobs. I tend to agree.
Most narcissistic post: This one.
Favorite child: Psych!
Favorite tv show: Project Runway...where the HAIL is my chiffon?! I say this every morning when I get out of bed.
Anxiety dream: When I'm stressed I dream that I'm in highschool/college and I've forgotten to go to math class. Like for the whole semester. And I'm wondering if the counselor is going to let me drop it or if I'm going to have to go into the final with no preparation. I've got craziness going on in my head.
Mariah or Whitney? Whitney. I'm routing for that crackhead.
Superman, Batman or Spider-man? Superman. He's super, man.
Favorite safety rule: Stop, drop and roll.
Favorite dance move: Stop, drop and roll.
Most useless safety rule: Always wear seatbelts. If I wear my seatbelt, how am I supposed to hold my kids in my lap? I don't care what your "rules" are, I say kids first.
Most useless invention: Soap. Also vegetables.
Favorite compliment: see title of post.

So all memes end with a tag. This kreme does not feel it is appropriate to discriminate among readers by choosing who should fill in the same questions. I refuse to pick and choose. So I tag everyone reading this. Carla, Snadrs, Jennifer, Giraldo, Riley, Angel, Flipflop, Anonymous, Never-commenters, I tag you all. You can stick your answers in the comments or you can put them in your own blog. You can use my categories or make up your own. Like Tommy Lee Jones says, I don't ca-aire. Or you could ignore this altogether....no harm done.

Whew...I'm glad I got that stuff off my chest. My fantastic chest.

Here's your chance! Here's your one and only chance...

2006-09-21T10:10:00.000-07:00

...to be AMERICA'S NEXT TOP POET!!!! I'm so glad ANTP doesn't make you wait in line for lengthy auditions. You just answer the spam mail with the title: Will, you could be America's Next Top Poet! and register with the site and submit your poem. You, too can be as recognizable as America's previous top poets...ummm....Robert Frost? Maya Angelou? I've got nothing.

On second thought, I'm looking at this entry form. Monthly $1000 prizes? Really? How's this:

He lightly tapped the table as she fried the eggs.
"I know about the purple crayon," she said.
"Damn you. It's over."
She flung the skillet at the wall.
"Peanut Butter!!!!!!!"

Or this:

Roses are red.
Violets are blue.
Where's Tyra Banks?
'Cause I'm America's Next Top Poet.

And you know that if you're ANTP you've got to go around wearing this. It's in the by-laws.

By the way, if you write poetry, I offer no condemnation or disrespect. But only if you're in the running to be AMERICA'S NEXT TOP POET.

What's she doing? What is that? Ewwww...

2006-09-20T22:28:00.000-07:00

Me: Charlie, stop gagging! You're fine. It's ok, baby.

Ava: I'm siiiiick.

Juliet: She's doing it again! Ewww!

Me: (driving) It's alright, baby. I'll get you cleaned up in a minute. Charlie, don't look at her! Stop gagging! Don't look at her!

Juliet: Aren't we going to turn around?

Me: Nope.

Ava: I feel siiiiick.

Me: I know, baby. Just give me a minute. (pushes button) I'll have 3, no 2 lime slushes and a large Dr. Pepper.

That's right. I kept driving. To Sonic. And that's right. She threw up again on the way home. You know you're a mama of three kids when the effort to get them into the car is enough to endure a 3 minute car ride of vomit. For Sonic slushes.

One of these days I'm going to write a more glowing story of motherhood. But it will probably be a lie.

Yes. I know I should've used the word 'unnecessary'. But I prefer...

2006-09-19T22:56:00.000-07:00

Irrelevant.

ir re' le vant - having no bearing on or connection with the subject at issue. As in:

Michael Jackson is irrelevant now that Justin Timberlake has a successful sophomore album. We don't need his crazy bleachiness anymore. Justin + Usher = Why isn't Michael Jackson in the crazyhouse yet?

Local network news is irrelevant because no one really believes baby's sippy cup poses DEADLY and IMMINENT THREAT to your loved ones. And no one thinks the sped-up wacky bloopers are funny, either.

The Hollywood Star Walk of Fame is irrelevant as Amy Grant was recently honored with a star. With all of 7 movies to her credit, I'm takin' to the notion that Jesus himself bought her that space on the Walk of Fame.

Good dental hygeine is irrelevant since I can always get my teeth replaced with brilliantly white choppers.

MTV, or as I call it TVTV, is irrelevant. Period.

Michael Moore, Ann Coulter, Al Franken and Rush Limbaugh are irrelevant because they believe anyone who is does not subscribe to their world-views is irrelevant.

Also in the irrelevant category:

the US war on drugs
cursive
the bra if you're Kierra Knightly
panties if you're Lindsay Lohan or Paris Hilton
the UN
capitalism in Russia under Putin
and completely irrelevant to this post: NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO AND NO!

Don't you hate it when someone does a post even when they have nothing to say?

2006-09-19T20:37:00.000-07:00

Yeah. Me too.

The Emancipation of Meme

2006-09-16T15:14:00.000-07:00

I never do memes. Who really cares what I ate for breakfast or what brand of feminine products I use (the cheapest)? But I've been tagged and since this meme is totally ROCK AND ROLL, I'm on it.

Coming from Riley at All Rileyed Up, the topic is My Ten Favorite TV Characters. Riley who, by the way, just wrote the awesomest sentences I've ever read in a blog, ever:

Yeah, you heard me. HIGH-LAN-DER. I love that show. I’d like to slap some bar-b-que sauce on it and eat that s*** up. Highlander also scores high in these other categories: Best Theme Song: Queen + air guitar = Crazy Delicious

There's no way I'm going to top that. I won't even try.

1. Laura Petrie - If I were a hot 1960s housewife with a bubble flip and skin tight capris, I'd be Laura Petrie. If I weren't a so-so 2000s housewife with unbrushed hair wearing whatever I picked up off the floor, I'd be Laura Petrie.

2. David Brent from the British version of the Office - I don't throw around the phrase 'complete and total jackass' very often. I'm quite discriminating when it comes to the 'complete and total jackass' label. David Brent qualifies:

I haven't got a sign on the door that says white people only. I don't care if you're black, brown or yellow - you know, Orientals make very good workers.

3. Ok...because I'm not going to come up with 10 great characters I have to also add Gareth from the British Office. Complete and utter jackass times two:

My dad, for example, he's not as cosmopolitan or as educated as me and it can be embarrasing, you know. He doesn't understand all the new trendy words - like he'll say "poofs" instead of "gays", "birds" instead of "women", "darkies" instead of "coloureds".

While I'm at it, I might as well include the entire casts of Reno 911 and Arrested Development on this one. And if you know what I mean when I say, "Chickens don't clap!" then you're cool like me.

4. Dot from MadTv - Oh mah heck I love this character. She puts the oreos on her eyes and says, "Someone took my eyeballs...mmmmmm....eyeballs are gooooood." Yeah...I'm easily amused.

5. Kevin Arnold from The Wonder Years. If I had had a boyfriend in jr. high/highschool, I would've hoped he was a little like Kevin Arnold. And if I had been as cute as Winnie Cooper, I might have had a shot with a guy like Kevin Arnold. Curses to big glasses and big bangs!

6. Dee from What's Happening? You find me a funnier character with better one-liners. Go on...I'm waiting. I'm here all night.

7. Sawyer or John Locke on Lost - Don't ask me how I keep up with the Lost episodes without tv. I'm not going to tell you. I don't need the Feds busting down my rented door. I try to not talk about tv characters as if they're real people. But that being said, Sawyer is the crazy bad guy you suspect has a heart o' gold, and John Locke is the crazy good guy verging on insanity. Just keep me away from Jack, OMHeck! He has got to stop trying to solve everyone's problems! Am I right? C'mon sista-girls, am I right???? Aaaaaand we're done.

8. Cousin Balki from Perfect Strangers - Standing tall. On the wings of my dreams. Don't be reediculous.

9. Alex P. Keaton - Alex fit in with his hippie family like I fit in with my family. They know what I'm talking about. I'm cool with Alex.

10. Becca from Life Goes On. Because I totally looked like her. And you always felt sorry for Becca. Yeah, Corky is the mentally handi-capable one, but Becca's the one keeping everything together. And she wasn't all anorexic like Carol Seaver.

11. Givin' a shout-out for my fave Kids Rule! shows: MMC (Diyman!), Kids Incorporated, and Rags to Riches. And does anyone else remember this show? I do. Because they had red hair. And one of them became a fashion designer...just like I wanted to be when I grow up! I am sooo like that girl. If only I had a twin.

I hereby tag Angel, Mrs. Chicky and Flipflop Mama. And I forgive you if you totally ignore your tag and secretly label me a loser.

Y'all gonna make me lose my mind. Up in here. Up in here.

2006-09-15T19:19:00.000-07:00

Four everlovin' hours in the car with my monsters. It's a wonder I didn't have a heart attack before I hit Cuero. What I wouldn't give for my husband and some strawberry daiquiries about right now.

************************************************************************************

Charlie: You're going to grow up to be a criminal.

Juliet: NO I'M NOT! I'M GOING TO BE A PRINCESS!

Charlie: That's a very HARD JOB TO GET!!!

Me: STOP SCREAMING BEFORE I HAVE A FREAKIN' ACCIDENT!!!!!

************************************************************************************

Me: Stop blowing in each other's ears! That's just creepy.

************************************************************************************

Charlie: Stop putting napkins in my ears!!!

************************************************************************************

Ava (crying): Stop it!! YOUR A CRYBABY!!!

Juliet (giggling): No, I'm not. You're the one crying.

Ava (crying): No, I'm not! YOUR A LIAR AND YOUR TATTLING!!!

Me (swiping my arm behind me, the kids are hugging their sad little legs to their chests): STOP IT!!! STOP IT!!!!! STOP YELLING!!!! GRRRRRRR!!!!!

************************************************************************************

(All 3 jerks): clap-clap-stomp, clap-clap-stomp, We will, we will, ROCK YOU!! We will, we will, ROCK YOU!!!!

***********************************************************************************

Charlie: Mooooommm. Juliet is hitting me and Ava took my glasses.

Juliet: giggle, giggle

Ava: I have your glaaasssseeess!

Me: Whatever. Don't talk to me until we get to San Antonio.

************************************************************************************

Yeah...soooo, yeah. Not my bright and shiningest moment in motherhood. Luckily there wasn't any pot or hard liquor in my mother-in-laws backseat so they didn't get too mischevious while I was on autopilot. Although some hard liquor wouldn't be too bad at the moment.

I've turn them over to the in-laws. My mama hours are over for the time being. (Exhale). I'm calling my husband.

Back to the movies. And the longest post EVER.

2006-09-13T21:26:00.000-07:00

Believe it or not, there's a reason why my page looks like your granny's formal dining room. When we (we meaning Will) designed the page I had one major contribution. I held up my box set of Cary Grant movies (best Christmas present EVER from my beloved, thankyouverymuch) and I said, "I want it to look like a movie poster from the 1930s."

So we messed around (with the design, of course...what were you thinking, pervert?) and came up with the wallpaperish background and the art deco lettering and the picture of Claudette Colbert and some guy looking at my children in horror. Yes...I know it doesn't look hippity hoppity or bootilicious or whatever the kiddies are saying these days. I like old movies. And this looks like me. So if you're picturing me as one of the Golden Girls running this little blog, das cool wit' me. If I have to choose which Golden Girl, I'd pick Betty White. Just not the slut one...old ladies + sluttiness = scary ladyparts-doctor visits.

How the phrase 'scary ladyparts-doctor visits' ended up in my blog, I'll never know.

So we're back to my own version of movie recommendations. Descending from the 70s (I didn't think anyone would stomach my killer reviews of Working Girl and Urban Cowboy so I skipped the 80s), we have arrived at the 50s. You'd think that a puritanical prude like myself would find all sorts of great 50s films to recommend....shockingly, this is not the case.

When it came down to writing down a list of great movies from this decade I was at a loss. There's two main reasons: 1. I don't get into Hitchcock movies, and b. not a big fan of epic spectacles either. So this eliminates all the major films of the decade: The Ten Commandments, The Greatest Show on Earth, Spartacus, Psycho, North by Northwest...etceterah, etceterah. Oh yeah, and The King and I. So no one who is a serious movie crazy person would take my list seriously. (Like there's some critic out there hanging on my every word....I get a little delusional sometimes).

If you're still reading by this point, here's my list:

Singin' in the Rain - The best musical of all time. I've seen them all...this is the best. Gene Kelly....how do I put this? You know how most male dancers look like male dancers? Gene Kelly looks like a guy who really likes girls, who's also dancing. And not just dancing but leaping and twirling...in the most heterosexual way imaginable. You have to see it to believe it. Gene Kelly aside, Singin' in the Rain is very clever, very funny and very well-done. And my kids thought it was hi-larious.

The Searchers (I bet no one saw a western coming...just wait- there's more) - This is one the film critics love. I loved it, too. Don't expect fun hijinks with The Searchers. John Wayne is a racist cowboy looking for his niece who has been kidnapped by some bad Injuns. The complexity of racism is what makes this movie so compelling. We watch it today and feel uncomfortable after a lifetime of white guys= bad guys, Native Americans = good guys. But buried deep back in our history are recorded incidences of white women and children being kidnapped and tortured by some of the more aggressive Indian tribes. And the people who originally watched The Searchers might have heard those stories or had within their own memories encounters that fostered racism. That being said, yes, this a racist movie. But a good one. Not good because it's racist but....crap. You know what I mean.

Desk Set - Do you know the Hepburn/Tracy story? I don't have space to tell it here...but it's the stuff of legend. I'm starting to sound like a voiceover on an A & E biography. Let's cut to the chase: Katharine's character is named 'Bunny' and she's damn smart. Spencer's character is installing a computer the size of a Starbucks franchise in her workplace. Clever banter ensues. And the clothes are very pretty, too.

High Noon - Another western I liked. Everything about this movie is simple but effective. I wouldn't be surprised if it has less dialogue than any other movie of the decade (except the Tom and Jerry's...but they don't count). So the good guy sheriff has to face a bad guy and no one's got his back. I told you it was simple. But effective.

Streetcar Named Desire/On the Waterfront I lumped these together because I couldn't choose between them. Marlon Brando is bloody brilliant in both. Streetcar was a play and you can tell it was a play because the dialogue sounds so play-ish. But Brando is so freakin' mesmerizing in this part you have to forgive the silly dialogue and weak New Awlins accents. Yeah...ok Streetcar is my favorite. Everyone remembers the Stella yell...but do you remember what happens when Stella comes down? Watch it, my friend. All I gots to say is ha cha cha cha.

This is my longest post EVER! Ever? Yeah, ever. So I'll skip the Honorable Mentions and honorably mention that I also like All about Eve and Giant and Easter Parade as well. And if you made it to the end of this post, I salute you.

I'm sorry. Some celebrity obsessed idiot hijacked my blog.

2006-09-11T10:40:00.000-07:00

We all know I'm too thoughtful and intelligent to waste precious virtual space writing about John Travolta, fashion and whatever else that airhead wrote about. Chyeah right.

In case you haven't visited our homeschool page I'm encouraging you to take a look. I call it School House Rock! and I'm answering some good questions. At least I'm answering from my narrow little perspective. Questions like:

What is the value of memory work?
What went wrong with 20th century education?
How do you teach kids to read? (I haven't answered this one yet. No one's asked.)
What is the Trivium?
What is a classical education?
What's new pussycat?

Just checking. So for those of you fascinated by the idea of homeschooling...but not quite sure how it works, hop on over. And ask more questions.

What I'd give to have a time machine right now...

2006-09-08T23:57:00.000-07:00

I'd go back to 1980. I'd apply to be a waitress at Gilley's in Houston. I'd quickly befriend John Travolta. He'll like me because I'll let him in on a new religion I'm inventing. It's based on the time-travel proposed in Slaughterhouse Five. He will be muy impressed.

Once we start getting our pedicures at the same place we'll become best friends. At this point I implement my scheme.

Me: John. In the future you are going to be invited to be in movie called Hairspray.

John: Whoa! Like, what are we talkin' about here?

Me: I can't explain right now. I have to get back to the future. You will be offered a movie called Hairspray. You must refuse.

John: Like, I thought you was just a waitress and now your talkin' bout time travel and hair products? Like, what's up with you, here?

Me: Focus John. Urban Cowboy will be the last movie you'll ever make that you will be attractive in. The last movie. Enjoy the flicker of cuteness you had for 15 minutes because it's about to be over. I want you to promise me you will not ever ever put on a dress and a fat suit and a wig and be in a movie called Hairspray.

John: I can't make no promises 'bout the make-up and dresses, here. Like, you know what I mean, here?

Me: Yes, John. I understand. Just know that it all goes downhill for you from here. Now sign the contract, please.

John: Like, alright. I'll sign whatever, here. Do these super tight jeans make my butt look too big?

Me: No John. You look fine. Just remember what I said. And sign on the back, also. That part has the "I will not be in Staying Alive" clause. Sign it.

Then I'd go back to my real life, contract in hand, and pat myself on the back. Maybe they'll get some loser like Kenickie to play Edna Turnblad. And then I wouldn't have had to throw up from my eyes beholding Bud in drag.

Oh Brad! You're so brave!

2006-09-08T17:37:00.000-07:00

Brad Pitt says he won't marry Angelina until all Americans are "legally able" to wed. All Americans, meaning all gay Americans...not the children or polygymous fellas or in some cases, both. Shame on Will for marrying me back when only the straights could marry. I'm already respecting him less.

In the altruistic spirit of those who are better than the rest of us, aka the celebrities, I offer the following:

I will not wash the dishes until Oprah gives me a million dollars for being so cute.

I will not limit my diet until at least 15 more people comment on the six pounds I lost this year.

I will not post another picture of my children until the crisis in Darfur is solved.

I will not smile again until Wes Anderson makes me another movie.

I will not learn French, German, Norse, Cockney, EU, African, Jewish or any other not-English language until someone explains the metric system to me. This I don't back down on.

This is too easy. I'm going to avoid everything I've never wanted to do. Who needs a pre-nup with Republican conservatives in Congress? Sneaky, sneaky Brad.

You got pretty! Otherwise titled, "Six pounds and bright red lipstick go a long way..."

2006-09-08T10:48:00.000-07:00

The kids and I visited my former place of employment yesterday...our favorite school on the southdiiidde of San Antonio. For anyone who's ever been insecure and starved for attention, you should seriously consider teaching kindergarten. You become some sort of quasi-celebrity. Countless throngs were practically clamoring for my autograph.

"Mrs. Harrison! Over here! Give us a smile!"

"Where did you go, Mrs. Harrison?" they ask. It's obvious they had completely forgotten my existance until the very second I had walked into the cafeteria. "I live close to the mountains! And it snows in the winter!" I could have said, "I live in a cartoon world! And we fly on rainbows to get to work!" and I would have gotten the same reaction: wide eyes and gaping mouths. Poor little sheltered babies hardly make it to the north side of San Antonio.

So I give hugs to all the staff and explain how we're in Texas and yes, I'm homeschooling, and yes, we still live in Idaho, and yes, we love it there, and no, we haven't retreated back to San Antonio in shame and disgrace. A few sweet teachers look me up and down and say, "You look great!" (The Texas food hasn't hit my hips yet. It's coming. Oh yes, my friend...it's coming.) But one teacher's aide gave me a big ol' hug and said, "You got pretty!" I laugh and brush her off, mentally noting that this one goes in the blog.

I've done this before myself. "You got skinny!" I say this to anyone who has lost weight. Even if I didn't know them that well in the first place or if they were losing weight privately. I do it because I think I'd rather compliment someone and embarass them a little than not compliment someone as if I didn't notice that they look good. Maybe I'm wrong for that. Or I'll give generic compliments like "You look great/awesome/better than ever!" And I'm being 100% sincere...I don't just start throwing out adjectives to win friends and influence people. Because if that were the case my adjectives would be "stupendous/splendiferous/dy-no-mite!/I'm-going-to-kill-myself-because-you-look-so-good". I don't think that last one was an adjective.

I have no doubt this lovely teacher's aide was being as sincere and sweet as anyone ever could be. I also have a bad habit of not caring what I look like. Or caring what everyone else thinks about how I look. Call it confidence. Call it laziness. I prefer clazidence.

The only exception is when I meet Will for lunch at the Coldwater Creek headquarters. All the female (and not female workers if you know what I mean) are quite fashion-forward. Me showing up in my t-shirt and cut-offs doesn't fly well in a room full of fashionistas. And fashionnisters.

So the lesson learned is that it pays to care. Otherwise I'm going to get some jackhole coming up to me a year from now saying, "OMGosh! I can't remember the last time I saw you with your hair brushed! And look! You've covered up all your freckles and break-outs with make-up! You look AMAZING!!!"

Who died and made Kelly Kapowski the fashion queen?

2006-09-06T21:01:00.000-07:00

Or maybe I've woken up in an alternate universe where Grace Kelly and Audrey Hepburn are the ugly ones...and fine Miss Kapowski is the height of loveliness. I'm beginning to think that this is a possiblility.

Remember that our charming town that doesn't boast a Target. Or Old Navy. Or anywhere else that you probably buy your clothes. Remember that we're the crazies who don't have network/cable television in our home. I just want you to keep in mind that I've been in a little isolated for a while.

That being said, at what point did the not-couture fashion industry decide women need to be wearing the fugliest clothes imaginable? Was it six months ago? Because I missed the memo. I strolled through the Target "junior" (or is it missy?) section tonight completely agog. I was literally so horrified that I have to use the word "agog", which a 30 year old girl should never use. Along with the phrase, "Great googly moogly!", which I think I'm going to start using as often as possible, by the way.

Great googly moogly! Those clothes were naaasssty. Quick rundown:

Tank tops that were banded at the bottom a la ugly maternity shirts of the 80s
Mini skirts featuring the ever-so-flattering princess waist. Aka the "v" that we were so fond of in Jr. high. The "v" that makes your belly look as big as possible. Because big bellies are cool.
Lady- neck ties attached to blouses. Like the ones Teri Garr wears in Mr. Mom. Like the ones everyone's mom is wearing in the family portrait taken in 1982. Except my mom. My mom has never worn a lady-tie.
Knit blazers. Don't ask.
Jean backpacks
Skinny jeans with zippers on the bottom. Because who knows when your ankles are going to need to go out for a walk.

This is just what I can remember, my friend. And by the way, we must have some sort of serious homeless problem going on. At least if all the studded hobo bags are any indication...someone should check into that. The hobos need to come pick up all their bags from the Target so the good retailers of the world can get some different purses up there.

So what's the last new thing designers have come up with? I've been wearing capris for almost 10 years now...and those were invented in the 20s? 30s? I've been wearing boot cut, low rise jeans for forever...which I'm sure can be attributed to bell-bottoms of the 60s. Here's my note to Isaac MizNOTti: Just because it was done before, doesn't mean it was cute. Even if it seemed cute at the time, it's not cute now, in 2006. This goes for super duper long t-shirts, ruffled mini-skirts, splatter painted anything, (yes...Target was trying to pull of splatter paint) pretty much anything you could picture Lark Voorhies showing up in.

If we must regurgitate the old, let's stick to the classics. And don't think that just because we like Target that we're falling for zippers on the bottoms of the pants. You'll be clearancing those bad boys faster than I can say "Watch out! Here comes Mr. Belding!"

2006-09-04T11:17:00.000-07:00

Airplane, schmairplane. My babies were the bomb-diggity-bombs of the air. Oh...maybe I shouldn't use the word "bomb" in airplane talk. My kids were nifty swell in the flying machines. Other than Juliet talking my ever-lovin' ear off for hours on end. Charlie chose to sit by himself so he would talk his elderly seat-mates' ears off. A good time was had by all.

We've been in Texas over 48 hours now. In case you weren't aware, we're not really here to see family and friends. We're too shallow for such nonsense. The true purpose of this trip is evidenced by the following list:

bbq brisket - coming up for dinner
carne guisada - not check
Big Red - check
chorizo and egg taco - not check
sausage and cheese kolache - check
Sonic food - coming up (also had Sonic in Spokane, but didn't count...not in Texas)
my favorite salad from the I-talians in the North Star mall - not check
favorite greasy chinese food from the east siiiiddde - not till Will gets here

I have soooo much to do. So if, when you see me, I not as utterly svelte and cute as you remember me, keep it to yourself. Or don't. I don't care. I've got a whole Idaho winter of my home cookin' to lose my Texas pounds.

And hopefully I won't have a heart attack before my Idaho winter arrives.

Do you actually know the lyrics to "The Eyes of Texas are Upon You?"

2006-09-01T12:40:00.000-07:00

Look them up if you don't. Because they're the creepiest patriotic lyrics of all time.

Me: Let's go, guys.

Ava: Are we going to Texas???

Me: No. We're meeting Daddy for lunch.

Ava: I want to go to Texas noooowwww! (Drops to the floor. I walk over her in disgust.)

Me: I can't wait to have you on a plane for 7 hours. That's not going to totally suck.

It's the day before we go to Texas for a month. Somehow I can't tear myself off this wretched crackpipe of a computer to get anything done. So I've caught up with pop culture by watching snippets of the VMA awards off of youtube. I wouldn't be surprised if Justin Timberlake really does bring Sexyback. Or at least Gooddancemusicback.

Texas trip preparation:

packed our school books: check
packed kids clothes: not-check
packed mama clothes: not-check
finished washing mama clothes: not-check
packed baby gifts and Coldwater Creek sample gifts: not-check
packed airplane diversion back packs: not-check
toiletries: not-check
anything else: not-check

Like that? I packed my school books up last night...so we didn't do school today. I haven't packed anything else. I better get started. No. I better check my yahoo mail again and myspace and see if these guys have anything new. Oh...and then I better check on my kids or something.

Disclaimer: The above is an exagerration. I do adequately supervise my children. Do not, I repeat, do not call Child Welfare on me or I will kill you. I mean I won't be happy with you.

Would you like me to seduce you? Is that what you're trying to tell me?

2006-08-30T23:24:00.000-07:00

Put this in your pantry with your cupcakes:

Kristi's Not-Quite-As-Good-Girl Guide to Movies of the 1960's

Let's start at the top, shall we? The Graduate is all things holy in terms of moviegoodness. Not good like, I can't wait to tell my Sunday School teacher about the good movie I saw last night, but good like, I can't believe Mike Nichols made this and then made Wolf 23 years later. Can't be the same guy. The plot, for the uninitiated, is that a college graduate (duh) hooks up with one of his parent's friends. And the mama Robinson has a cutie pie daughter who happens to be the graduate's age. Hilarity ensues. Let me say that I'd give away some kids to be as hot as Ann Bancroft is in this movie. And I bet Will wouldn't stop me. I'm just sayin'...

This is the one to put in your Netflix cue right now. Do it. DO it.

Breakfast at Tiffany's - As with Saturday Night Fever, I had a completely different expectation for this movie than what it actually was. For this reason I refused to watch it again for several years. And then I said, "What about Breakfast at Tiffany's" and you said, "Yes, I remember the film. And as I recall I think about 15 people are going to hate-mail Kristi for putting this song in their heads." And you say we have nothing in common.

Audrey is de-lovely, even if the movie is a little de-dark and de-pressing. But watch it anyway. If nothing else, you can get a brief glimpse of why everyone went crazy for Truman Capote for about 10 minutes.

Charade - Question: What do you get when you put Audrey and Mr. CaryGrant in a movie together? Answer: Valhalla. Literally. There were millions of Viking ghosts who didn't get into Valhalla until production on this movie was complete. It's complete heaven. Nothing dark, other than a few murders and some sexy sexy banter between young Audrey and Mr. CaryGrant. And not many men pushing 60 can pull off the sexytalk like he does. I'll do a whole dissertation on Mr. CaryGrant someday. Believe you me. I will.

The Apartment - Now we have a case of lousy expectations being turned upside down onto their hineys. I'm not a fan of Shirley MacLaine, what with her teeny tiny eyes and crazytalk about new aginess. Blah. And then Jack Lemmon, who's just too animated for his own good. No one knows who I'm talking about, right? So anyway, I rent this movie starring people I don't care for because The Apartment always shows up on best comedy of all time lists. Right up there with Some Like it Hot, which should have been retitled Some Like It -Not! Hee Hee.

But I watch it and the movie turns out to be quite good. Shirley is not only charming...she's actually pretty! in this movie. And Jack...bleh...still too wackjob to be believable. But you might disagree so rent it and find out.

Judgement at Nuremburg - If a. you are a history freak, or b. you love excellent acting, or c. you like the courtoom drama movies, or d. you are a college student realizing you have a test on the Nuremburg trials and you forgot to study, then this movie is for you. Spencer Tracy is in this movie. Spencer who? you ask. Spencer TRACY, the greatest common-guy actor of the 20th century! Why am I the only one who knows who Spencer Tracy is? Why am I yelling? Yes, I swear I'm not an 80 year old former movie starlet posing as a young hip blogger! I may be 30, but my soul is Spencer Tracy's age. That's about 106 by my estimates.

Dr. Strangelove or .... Too long a title. Must finish post.... Very very clever spoof of the nuclear age. And some of it's not that funny considering the state of things today. Peter Sellers...I haven't seen many things with him so I can't do a self righteous rant about how great he is. But he's great in Dr. Strangelove. Great times 3 because he has 3 different parts in the movie. Beat that Mike how-many-times-can-I-use-my-Scorttishhh-accent Myers.

Cool Hand Luke- Don't remember much about this movie. All I remember is Paul Newman. This one's for the ladies. That's all I can say before my husband locks me in the closet (insert nervous laughter here) I'm totally joking. Will's great.

2001 Space Odyssey. I didn't get this movie. At all. Not even an itty bitty bit. But you should watch it anyway so you can marvel at the special effects that were a kajillion years before their time. Then google the title to try to get some meaning out of the wasted hours you put into it.

Frolicking Family Fun:

The Sound of Music - Oh my blog. My girls are singing these songs to death right now. I honestly didn't think it would go over well with them...I was tragically mistaken. Still, it's a good movie.

Mary Poppins - Close your mouth please, Michael. We are not a codfish. Lovely, lovely, lovely.

Summer Magic - Hayley Mills in her last cute enough to be considered cute film. Precious Mom and I sing all the songs with my kids when we get together. Precious dad joins in. Sarcastic dad pretends he can't hear us.

It's a Mad, Mad, Mad World - This is a great, great, great, movie, movie, movie, for 7 year old boys who think madcap chases are funny. I bet I could stick him in front of an old Benny Hill Show and he'd die from a laughter-induced heart attack. Or a boob-induced heart attack. I better keep him away from Benny Hill...just to be on the safe side, side, side.

Ich bin finished. I need to go to bed.

The Good Girl's Guide to 70s Cinema

2006-08-29T11:52:00.000-07:00

A long, long time ago, way back in the '90s, I decided it was time to grow up. I'd spent my entire life watching Rodgers and Hammerstein musicals and it was time to step into the world of adult cinema (not porn). So I made a concerted effort to watch all those movies that had won all those awards and become a movie sophisticate.

From this experience I learned 2 things:
1. I am a prude. and
2. Movies of the 1970s were not made for prudes.

Movie makers hadn't quite figured out that shocking does not equal high quality. And for some reason, the 1970s were full of the most inappropriate, perverse scenarios you can think of. Thus we have Jodie Foster and Brooke Shields flaunting their pubescent stuff as little girl prostitutes. Ewww. A few movies into this, I gained enough self knowledge to assert there are some movies my virginal little eyes should never see: Deliverance, Clockwork Orange, Pretty Baby, Taxi Driver come to mind.

So for the modest girl with a puritanical world view, I present the following:

The Good Girl's Guide to 1970s Cinema

I begin with the mothership of all things inappropriate, The Rocky Horror Picture Show. This was my first venture into movie dirtiness. I'm at the height of whatever inkling of rebellion I ever possessed in my life. I rented Rocky Horror with a smug recognition of how sexy I was being...look at me, I'm dirty. Yeah...I felt dirty alright. And sick to my stomach. See my Ronald McDonald post below to understand how I feel about men in make-up. I loved the music and bought the soundtrack. But I'll never watch Rocky Horror again. No matter how much I love Tim Curry.

The Wall/Tommy/Anything else meant to be watched while doing drugs - I think The Wall was made in the 80s...but it has the heart of a 70s movie. You know I'm big fat scaredy cat when I spend half the movie with my hands over my eyes. So I don't like to be disturbed by psychadelic cartoons...what's wrong with that? Tommy....there's beans and Ann Margret and pedophiles and prostitutes...it's a wonder I didn't actually self-destruct while beholding such nastiness. Maybe it's my severe prudishness, but I don't even think these movies are clever. The Monkees Head was alright, I guess. Then again, I always had a thing for Mike Nesmith.

The Godfathers - Believe it or not, I like the Godfathers. My attention span couldn't handle it in high school, but as an adult I enjoyed the first two of the trilogy. Unfortunately, Will and I decided to have a Godfather marathon the weekend before I went back to work after my maternity leave with Juliet. I didn't know you weren't supposed to quit nursing cold turkey. Nobody told me. So to this day I associate The Godfathers with extreme pain and engorged boobs. Maybe I shouldn't have told that story.

Annie Hall - I think Diane Keaton is adorable. Woody Allen...ehhh, not so much. And usually I'm all about wit over good looks. But Woody's just creepy after the stepdaughter affair thing. So I watched this and kept thinking, "Run Diane! He's a freak!" Thanks, but no thanks.

Saturday Night Fever - Who else expected this to be a fun little polyester romp through disco? Me too. So after fully immersing my 16 year old noggin into the world of drugs, backseat sex, suicide, abortions and all-round depravity, I actually liked the movie. Once I got over the shock. And this is after I conclude that there isn't a single character in the movie that I actually like. Except maybe the priest brother.

Rocky - Now we're getting somewhere. For a simple minded girl like me, this is perfection. Little did I know that the entire plot and many of the scenes were concieved 20 years before in Brando's On the Waterfront. Including, what is in my mind, one of the sexiest scenes of all time, the one with Rocky and Adrian and the kiss against the wall. You know what I'm talking about. That's hot. So I don't know why I can't turn off this movie. And a new one's coming out. Cue the trumpets...I'm on it.

Star Wars - Never cared for Star Wars as a kid. And then I watched it a few years ago and I was like, What the crap? This dialogue sucks! This whole movie sucks! This whole franchise sucks! Millions and millions of grown men are completely wrong. Then I watched it again this summer with my 7 year old son. Now I get it. I soooo get it. This child is still making fighter thingys with his legos and drawing pictures of Luke and Darth Vader. And asking me all kinds of questions to which I have no answers. Now I get it.

French Connection - Gene Hackman, car chases...BORing

Chinatown - Jack Nicholson gets a knife in his nose. No thanks.

One Flew Over the Cookoo's Nest - I liked this. I liked the crazies.

Dog Day Afternoon - Disturbing.

Network - BORing. And Faye Dunaway gives me the creeps.

Last Picture Show - Yes and no. Cybill Shepherd is gorgeous in this movie...and perfect as the pretty sex-starved high school debutante. So, of course, I didn't relate to her character at all. On the other hand, the preoccupation the West Texas town has with football is downright uncanny. So...yeah, it's a good movie. Even if it's just as a picture of small town life in Texas.

American Graffitti - My heavens, I love this movie. No really, it's up there with It's a Wonderful Life and The Royal Tenenbaums. George Lucas is forever redeemed in my eyes with American Graffitti. I can't really discuss the movie without getting sentimental about my own courtship with Will...so I'll spare you. Let's just say this is easily my favorite movie of the 70s. Killer soundtrack. Beautiful cars. Roles of a lifetime for Ron Howard and Richard Dreyfuss and Shirley and the not-cute girl from One Day at a Time.

I'm thinking there might be only one reader who actually appreciates a movie review post. And that one reader doesn't usually comment so I'm expecting some cricket chirps and bullfrog ribbits after this post.

It's a'ight. Just wait until I do a review of favorite slapstick comedies of the 1930s and 1940s...my readership is going to go through the roof!

Not an afro. Not yet a Jheri Curl...

2006-08-27T09:42:00.000-07:00

Hoping to score points with my part-time employers, I volunteer to man the Daily Bee booth at the county fair on Saturday. This is my first small town fair...I'm thoroughly enchanted. Who knew people actually give out ribbons for best tasting muffins and what-not? No ferris wheels, no roller coasters, just cows and sheep and handicrafts. The whole affair smacked of Mayberry...it was adorable.

As I sit behind my little desk with my knitting, my library copy of The Hours, and my cynical big city brown eyes, I can't help but notice how a good portion of the Idaho population could be interchanged with a good portion of the Texas population and no one would know the difference. FFA boys with dark colored jeans and skoal rings, big belt buckles, county fair queens with their little tiaras and Ropers....I'm starting to feel at home.

Just as I begin to tally the potential Texans in the crowd, I'm met with an unexpectant shock, nearly plunging me into a full on -reach-for-the-prozac-anxiety attack.

Three words: Ronald Freakin' McDonald.

Now, we all agree that clowns in general are never amusing and should be hunted for sport. At the very least locked away in a clown prison heavily guarded with guns and electric fences. This is understood. Nazis are evil. Clowns are less evil but harder to look at.

So I see this shock of red hair, garish white paint, bright yellow jumper....I duck my head. For some reason yet unknown to me, maybe some repressed childhood drama, this fast food icon makes me queasy. Ronald McDonald is creepy enough, peddling his "Happy Meals" to small children, trying to stay hip through the decades. But a non-clownish man impersonating Ronald McDonald is absolutely revolting.

To begin, the costume is dingy. The dinginess evokes some kind of homeless Ronald McDonald squatting in an alley, cigarette in one hand, bagged malt liquor in the other. His raspy voice telling tales of his rapid decline..."It was the Hamburglar that did us in. That bastard embezzled millions..."

The hair...on tv it's just some amorphous red mass....not an afro, not yet a jheri curl. In person it's just a scarlet nest of nastiness. I'm reminded of grandmas getting their hair set so they can't wash it again for a week. Once more, I'm compelled to look away.

Yet even with diverted eyes, I can't escape his terrifying voice.

This particular Mickey D pretender never attempted a clown-like voice. Why make the effort? So he's walking around, trying to interact with children and adults alike, painted up like a clown hooker, gruffly addressing fair attendees with a "Hey, how are ya? What'ya got here? Far out."

Far out. I tried to be polite when he asked about my booth. "What's this...the paper? I don't live here but if I did I'd get one from ya," he said in his man-voice. Good gravy, is Ronald McDonald flirting with me? Have I hit the low point of my womanhood? A dingy, gruff, middle aged clown-man winking at me with his painted eyes?

Excuse me while I stick my naturally red head in the oven.

Part of me hoped this freak wasn't actually affiliated with McDonalds in any way. I'd like to think the manufacturers of my crazy delicious quarter pounders with cheese (no pickles, no onions, thankyouverymuch) wouldn't knowingly send this hideous monster my way.

But it appears they did. And now I have to take a scalding shower to wash off the clown stink.

For a little motivation...

2006-08-25T13:32:00.000-07:00

Like to hear it? Here it goes...

2006-08-23T23:56:00.000-07:00

San Antonio natives are fully aware that 100-and-something year old sportscaster Dan Cook coined the phrase "it ain't over until the fat lady sings." I especially know this because we are close and personal friends with this guy, weather personality extraodinaire Bill Taylor. (Like that? Like how I dropped the celebrity-bomb in the middle of my blog? Guess what? A former member of En Vogue lives in my house in San Antonio...we've got superstar connections all over the hizzle. I'm thinking of buying some skinny jeans and great big sunglasses to prove I know famous people. And a well publicized eating disorder isn't completely out of the question).

So if a sportscaster can coin a phrase, why can't I? Am I right? How hard is it? You put some words together, use them, and get millions and millions of other people to use them. So I'm trying some new catchphrases out...let me know what you think:

When did you get so fat? You used to be cute but...geeze, you look like crap.
Skank I ain't, I whore no more.
You look like you just sold your soul to the Devil.
That tastes like poop on broccoli (actually coined by Juliet).
Your teeth are too Duff. You should get them redone.
Give that baby a suckerfier (Ava's contribution to lexicon).
What chu talkin' 'bout, bastard?
I may be trailer trash, but at least I'm 'Merican.
I may be trailer trash, but at least I know my baby daddy. One of my baby daddy.
I may be trailer trash. Yes. I am trailer trash.
I pity the mentally defecient!
Slinkies! (This is to be used when figuring out an important clue in a mystery).
Zada zing, zada zoom! (This is to be used by surburban mobsters of Italian origins.)
Konichiwa, cowboy! (stolen from 1980s/1990s come-to -Texas commericals, not used nearly enough).
No dammy, no dammy, no dammy! (This will be used when I launch my new gameshow , Dress Your Duck).

So...I think this is a good start. I'm quite on my way to immortaldomnification.

Peace out. Word to your mutha.

True stories of amazing parenting....

2006-08-23T11:46:00.000-07:00

Otherwise titled: We'll be lucky if none them kill us in our sleep.

A few months ago:

Ava: Daddy lost his hair because he was a bad boy.
Me: What? Did he tell you that? Wiiillll!!!
(confronting Will)
Me: Did you tell Ava you lost your hair because you were a bad boy?
Will: Yeah...that's funny. Now she'll be good so she won't lose her hair. (Smirky smile on his face)
Me: Nice. What do we tell her when she sees her first chemo patient?

The other day:

Ava: Daddy lost his hair because he was a bad boy.
Will: Noooo....I told you I lost my hair because I was a good boy. Why haven't you lost your hair yet?
Ava: Noooo. You was a bad boy. I have lotsa hair. (shows him her hair)
Will: I really lost my hair because I was so smart. My brain got so big and it needed more energy so my hair had to go.
Ava: You was a bad boy.

******************************************************************************

Will: They're hiring here, Charlie. Go ask them for a job.
Charlie: I'm too young.
Will: Go tell them you're fifteen. They'll believe you.
Charlie: No they won't.
Will: Yeah...just say, "I'm short." And then say, "Don't make fun." They'll feel bad and hire you.
Charlie: No they won't.
Will: Come on...it'll be fun.
Charlie: I'm too young.
Kristi: Good for you, Charlie. Good for standing up to Daddy's peer pressure.
Will: It would've been sweet.

*****************************************************************************
Will: Stop fighting or I'll take off your feet!
Juliet: You can't take off our feet!
Will: Oh yeah? Watch this (does lame removing the finger trick)
Juliet: Thats a trick! (starts trying to do the same trick)

*****************************************************************************
Ava: Mama, will you get me some water?
Me: Only if you give me a kiss. (Ava gives me a kiss)
And a hug (gives me a hug). And do a little dance (starts jumping around like a hopped up midget)
Will: Mama!
Me: What? I like to see her dance.

*****************************************************************************
Me: Out of cereal, the eggs are old, no breakfast bars....cookies for breakfast!
Children: Yeeeeaaahhhh!

*****************************************************************************

Me on the phone: Excuse me? I'm sorry... I can't... Could you hold on for just a minute?
Ava (singing): I went down, down, down, and the flames went higher...
Me: Ava, I'm on the phone. Can you go sing in the hall?
Ava: No! I want to sing Ring of Fire in here! (singing) And it burns, burns, burns, the ring of fire, the ring of fire.
Me: Can I call you right back?

*********************************************************************************

Me in the mini-van: What do we want to listen to?
Juliet: Video Killed the Radio Star!
Charlie: That one where they say "Don't tell me to smile.." (Beastie Boys, Intergalactic)
Ava: Listen to the Band! (our favorite Monkees song)
Me: Hank Williams, it is then.

Yeah....so we keep our bedroom door locked at night.

This is what I would look like if someone stole my nose.

2006-08-22T13:10:00.000-07:00

And I were computer-generated. Actually, I'd probably be a lot angrier looking if someone stole my nose. Or I'd be screaming and clutching the bloody chasm where my nose once was.

"Curses upon on you, Nose-Thief! Curses upon you!"

Will's noseless avatar is stunningly accurate. He looks like a hardcore skinhead...which he is, thus the accuracy. Mine would be a lot cuter if he had let me add the flirty eyelashes like I wanted. And my freckles. And trimmed my massive man-shoulders. And while I'm perfecting the cartoon version of myself, I might as well give myself a nice rack and take a little off the hips.

I ought to just get it over with and invest in some celebrity quality airbrushing software. Just you wait 'Enry 'Iggins....I'm going to look hot.

Glorifying Elmo, the mentally handiCAPABLE muppet

2006-08-21T11:24:00.000-07:00

I've been saying this for years...no one would listen. During three maternity leaves I would allow whichever children were in the home to watch hours of children's programming while I nursed and slept and counted down the days before I could begin utilizing my daycare again.

So I'd let the little ones watch the same nonsense we let all our little ones watch...Bob the Builder, Dora, Blue's Clues etc. I banned Barney and I banned Teletubbies for obvious reasons. But I was keen on Sesame Street. After all, I cut my tv addiction teeth on Big Bird and Grover and the deaf lady who seemed so nice. So I'd prop myself up and sing along to the opening sequence, looking forward to catching up with Gordan and Maria and Mr. Hooper.

Moving right along, I'd see that Gordan's still there. The lady from 227 never made it back from the world of sitcom. Ok, don't know her...don't know him. I gather Mr. Hooper died many years ago. Ok...new faces but same concept. I'm still cool with Sesame Street.

And then, half an hour into the show something horrible happened. This obnoxious, high pitched voiced special ed muppet completely took over the show. Now, I was fully aware of the Tickle Me Elmo phenomenon of a few years ago...I knew this annoying character was quite popular. But to put a character who can't speak properly as the centerpiece of an educational program? Come on...this show gets government funding!

This post comes totally out of left field. I had forgotten about my aggravation with Elmo until I read this article entitled Elmo is an Evildoer: The Self-Obsessed Muppet is Destroying All That's Holy on Children's TV.

I desperately don't want the show to go away, so I know they can't afford to run the "Elmo accidentally drank bleach and died" episode. Instead, they need to simply take Elmo and his buddies and give them their own hourlong show for the idiot spawn. Then put Luis, Gordon and the cool Muppets on their own half-hour "Classic Sesame" for the kids who will one day actually contribute to our society.

Whichever of the two shows you watched would serve as a convenient litmus test for the rest of your life. "Which 'Sesame Street' did you watch?" will be code on college applications, Internet dating and job applications. Blue and red states will be divided not by presidential choices, but by Grover and Elmo.

If we can't save all the kids, let's at least save the ones who can master speaking in first-person. The rest we'll use for reality TV stars.

Couldn't have said it better myself. I tried...but I couldn't.

And if I could sell Caillou and his bald-headed-baby-talking self to the gypsies, I would.

And I proudly STAND UP next to you...I'm going crazytown with Americanism

2006-08-20T06:44:00.000-07:00

I am aware, or at least I'm told, there is a world outside the United States. In keeping with my lofty aspirations of being not-uninformed, I occasionally venture outside the virtual pages of People Online and into the virtual pages of actual global news.

Sometimes I get scared. Sometimes I get smug.

Today I am smug.

I'm a patriot. I love our country and I believe the American Constitution is the culmination of the finest ideals in human history. We may mangle it, disregard it, take broad unwarranted liberties with it, but the document itself is as close to perfection as anything ever written. (Can you tell I watched Mr. Smith Goes to Washington last night?) Politics aside, my anarcho-capitalist husband and I, the recently converted Libertarian, can agree that no national entity has ever come close to accomplishing something as glorious as the United States.

True, things are a little bit of a messed up version of awful these days. Our esteemed president lost his mind a few years ago and we've got war monkeys in the White House. Nothing new, historically speaking, but not great. So this is not the post where I talk about why everyone should tear up their party affiliation cards (you know, the one in your wallet next to your driver's license) and join their Libertarians for truth, justice and the American Way. That comes later. This is the post where I say the American Way is not, I say, is not anything to be ashamed of.

'Hold your tongue, lassie!' you're saying. 'We all know Americans are war mongering, barbarian, gun toting hillbillies trying to homogonize the world through McDonalds and Coca-Cola." I'm not going to debate with you, fictional Devil's Advocate in my head, I'm here to point out how the rest of the world...eeeehhh-not so great either.

Case in point, Europe. Europe's my favorite. There would be no 'United States' without the forward thinking European philosophers and clergy who dared to imagine a person's liberty is his own, not the property of a monarch. From French and British thinkers the entire notion of self-ownership was fully developed, until finally Americans committed their notions of freedom and equality to law, at least for the white guys.

Fast-forward 230 years or so. Europeans have a new king. Not the king of monarchy, oh no, that's soooo 18th century. The new king of Europe is 'the greater good'. Individual liberties are sacrificed, sometimes with deadly consequence for the 'greater good.' Taxation is such that I'm pretty sure French citizens actually pay the government for the privilege of working. And where does the tax revenue go? We all know it's not going toward military spending...so where does it go?

You tell me.

Scotland's employment rate stands at 74.8 per cent and continues to outperform that of the UK overall and almost all other countries within the European Union. Scotsman.com

And you know that 25% of the Scots aren't out on the streets, bag-piping for spare change....they're drawing generous unemployment checks. Subsidized by the guys with the jobs.

So the Scottish are bragging about their low 26% unemployment rate...good for them. You think our homegrown democrats are liberals? Oh hhooo no...you haven't seen liberalism, baby, until you 've looked at Europe. This is a continent where they're embarrassed to lock up criminals, wouldn't want to offend the criminal's self esteem. A continent where French students went crazytown and rioted over the prospect of being fired from their future nonexistant jobs. Same country, different rioters: these guys feel disenfranchised so they torch some daycares, churches and hundreds of cars and businesses. French authorities waited a full week before declaring a state of emergency. Wouldn't want to get in the way of the kids expressing themselves, you know. See a pattern here?

The heady notion of "rights" -- and especially the notion that your rights over-ride other people's rights, when those other people belong to some suspect class called "bosses" -- is an all too familiar feature of modern welfare state notions. Thomas Sowell

The Europeans have muddled 'rights' with 'privileges.' But I digress. This post is about America, not Europe. Wait...that's not true. It is about Europe. Because they think we're the backward ones. They think we're cruel for limiting our unemployment subsidies and not giving new mothers a year of paid maternity leave. And then they wonder why their economy is going to hell in a cheap pleather man-purse.

The lesson here is you can't have it both ways. You can't promote the economy while handing out free goodie bags to everyone in inconvenient circumstances. And if you go for the goodie bag approach, don't be surprised when you run out of bags and your destitute masses start torching you and your good intentions.

I'm a big fan of the American Way. Not crazy about war. Not a fan of the current administration. But the minute Hilary and her gang start trying to make us into Europe Part Deux, me and mine are taking a slow boat to Dubai.

I know that Europe's wonderful, yet something seems to lack: The
Past is too much with her, and the people looking back. But the
glory of the Present is to make the Future free,— We love our land
for what she is and what she is to be. Henry Van Dyke

Beats Lee Greenwood.

You're sure about that? Really? Think that's gonna work?

2006-08-18T15:17:00.000-07:00

"I always thought you were the bad boy!"
"OMGosh! No way! I thought you were the bad boy!
"This is sooo funny! Hey! Remember when used to think of new ways to trim facial hair?"
"I totally forgot about that! That was sooo fun! We should totally start that trend up again."
"Totally."

I'm taking cheap shots today. It's my last weekday before school starts and I'm feeling snarky.

Our Blessed Patron Saint of Excellence in Motherhood, Dina Lohan, thinks she's got a great idea.

She says, "Lindsay's friends call me the 'white Oprah (Winfrey)' because they all come to me with their problems. I'm like the mom of these kids in the business. I love to talk. I have a talk show in the works..."

I'm picturing how this would work out:

White Oprah: Sooooo....Nicoleritchie....do you think I look fat in these jeans?
Nicoleritchie: (blink blink)
White Oprah: Seriously...we should hang out, right? We have sooo much in common. I'm cool, you're cool. We both know Lindsay...
Nicoleritchie: Somebody promised me a free miniature puppy if I agreed to do this. Where's my puppy??
White Oprah: You go girl! You so crazy!
Nicoleritchie: (gone)

In other psuedo-celebrity news, Nicky Hilton is launching her own line of hotels in South Beach. I don't know where South Beach is but I'm sure my pasty self wouldn't be wanted there. So she's launching this huge endeavor, right? So you'd think she'd hire-oh I don't know-maybe an architect or an engineer or even a jr. high art student to come up with some preliminary models. Nope. CLICK HERE. UH-UHHH. That fool used pink posterboard for her collage representing her hotel. Her collage. Collage. Pink. Posterboard. I'm pretty sure I tried to pull something like that off in high school and got a C. Pink. Posterboard.

Courtney. Courtney, Courtney, Courtney. There's nothing funny about drug addiction. So I'll skip that part. There's a whole lot funny about bad plastic surgery. Francis, on the other hand, looks awesome. That girl's got the sympathy of the world.

So K-Fed is making his first public performance as a rapper closing the Teen Choice Award s. Here's what he says:

"I think I'm going to go for the Oh-my-God factor. That's what I'm aiming for."

Here's my tip: Don't show up. If you're going for shocking, that'll do it. If you must come, I suggest you do a Vanilla Ice/Snow/Everlast medley. And then close with a tribute to Eminem, just so you're keepin' it rrrealll. If you insist on singing your own songs, I strongly suggest hiring David Copperfield to do a mass hallucination trick, convincing the audience you're Mike D. from the Beastie Boys, 'K-Fed?

That's all. No more snarkiness for a month. I swear.

This is how we do it.

2006-08-18T09:45:00.000-07:00

Harrisons do it like nobody does. (This is how we do it.)

Let's get some homeschoolin' up in here. This is my back-to-school post, in case you weren't sure why I was quoting 1990s West Coast rappers (west siiiieede).

To spare you post after post of minutia, I thought I'd bundle it all up in a second blog. So if you couldn't care less about how I plan on spending my school year, you could just sit back and read some of the HI-larious posts below.

But if you're just a tiny bit curious how we try to pull this off, please click here. You'll want to start with the post at the bottom and then move up. Also know that this is our 2nd year of homeschooling, but our first year with multiple kids participating.

So if you see something that needs clarification, or prompts more questions, PLEASE let me know. I'll answer anything. For real. Anything.

Enjoy!

2006-08-17T20:23:00.000-07:00

I have a guest blogger! Please be nice to the guest and listen to his advice. He is very smart and understands many mysteries which confuse my noggin'. The following instructions teach how to set up a page that will make your life easier than heck. Also, this particular guest finances my luxurious lifestyle so be sure to read every word and take it to heart.

RSS is one of the coolest technologies that is available to the average web user. Many people have not heard of it, or don't understand it very well. I hope to explain what it is and how it can help you keep track of your favorite web content.

First, let me explain what RSS is. RSS stands for Really Simple Syndication. It allows the user to collect feeds from various web sites. These feeds notify the user when new content has been added to a site. You may have noticed this orange and white logo various places on the web. This shows that a website has an RSS feed available. So, if you subscribe to these feeds, you will be notified of any new content through your feed reader.

In order to keep track of these feeds, you will need the help of a feed reader, or aggrigator. There are many options available, and they range from stand alone applications to web pages. One of the easiest to implement is the Google Homepage. If you have a Google account, you can click the Personalized Home link from the Google home page. There are a few ways to add content. You can add content to your web page by clicking the Add content » link in the top left hand corner of your Google Homepage. This will give you access to hundreds of feeds. You can also click any button. Alternatively, you can use the "Add by URL" link next to the search bar. From here you can paste any feed link address. Feed link addresses can be obtained by clicking on a feed icon. Copy the web address and paste it into the URL section. my.Yahoo.com has a feed reader available as well. You can follow the same guidelines to set it up.

This should get you started. You'll be able to keep track of a number of feeds at once, with your reader notifying you of updates.

Oh no she di-int.

2006-08-17T08:47:00.000-07:00

Oh yes she did.

With Sharpies.

Little bit of Ava, whole lotta crazy.

2006-08-16T11:11:00.000-07:00

Me: What did you do to your face???!!!
Ava: I wanted to wear make-up like you.
Me: Lookin' good, baby.
(Oh...this was the day I was in full camo gear for neighborhood war games...my bad)

Ava: Did you know God makes people out of dirt?
Me: Is that how He made you?
Ava: No.
Me: How did He make you?
Ava: He sent his son, Jesus to earf and then He made us.

Me: What else do you learn in church?
Ava: I learn snacks, and teachers, and tanks..
Me: Tanks?
Ava: Tanks, and bears. I know the Cubbies' motto. It's 'Jesus Loves Me.' Just like the song. They teach me that. They don't teach me how to tap dance. I need special shoes to tap dance. (leaves room)
Me: Ava??
(crickets chirp)

Ava: I love going to marijuana class!
Me: What did you say??!!!
Juliet: She said she loves going to her AWANA class.
Me. Oh. That's what I thought she said.

God bless you, Wikipedia.

2006-08-15T13:42:00.000-07:00

Everyday hundreds and hundreds of people ask me, "Kristi, how do you teach kids to read?"

And everyday I have one simple answer, "Phonics."

Then hundreds and hundreds of people say, "And what exactly do you mean by phonics? Is that the alphabet or what?"

And I say, "What are you, stupid or something? Don't you know anything???"

And then I realize I'm imagining hundreds of people and talking to myself belligerently. I retreat to my bathroom to regroup.

Next time I'm just going to refer them to this article from Wikipedia. For all the hundreds of people who aren't quite sure what is meant by the word "phonics".

Clever McCleverpants can't operate window blinds.

2006-08-15T09:07:00.000-07:00

So, after reviewing my posts for the month of August, I'm starting to see a little theme. I am awesome. I read good books if they're less than 150 pages. I plan for the future. I'm homeschooling my kids. I win 2 day battles with small children. I work extra jobs. Babysitting. I can do a cartwheel (that one didn't make it into a post). Who rocks the house? I rock the house. And on top of everything, I write an ultra-successful blog that tens of people are reading everyday. It's hard to be humble when I'm such a model of successful womanhood.

So in an effort to reconnect with readers who can't do cartwheels, I thought I'd make a little list of a few things that I can't do.

I can't get through a day without singing out loud.

I can't get through a day without heroin. I mean Dr. Pepper.

I can't operate simple mechanisms...blinds are only the top of the list. Corkscrews are 2nd. Alarm clocks are 3rd. The list goes on...

I don't understand technology. I'm pretty sure there's little midget elves in my computer painting these words on my screen. I put cookies on the desk at night in case they're hungry.

I can't read knitting/sewing/crocheting patterns. I'm condemned to spend the rest of my life knitting scarves for this reason. Scarves for my elves.

I often operate under delusions of grandeur. An idea for a children's story = I'm a bestselling author hanging out with JK Rowling in NYC. A new business idea = I'm Donald Trump, getting interviewed on Oprah explaining my road to wild success. Delusions of grandeur are quite difficult to get over when you never actually complete the original task you thought was so great.

I'm gullible and I can't tell when someone is tricking me. I spend half my life saying, "Really? Are you serious? Shut up...you're foolin' me!" And running away in tears.

I have an aversion to cussing. I never picked it up and I don't like movies or books with potty mouths. If Will says 'hell' or 'ass' I say, "Watch your mouth. I'm a lady." Unless he uses the word 'fatass'. That one always makes me giggle.

I'm just now realizing I'm not going to be a prodigy at anything.

I'm paranoid about my friends hating me. If I haven't heard from you in a while, I think that you and everyone else I've ever known are partying at an undisclosed location, telling stories about how glad you are you finally ditched me. I should probably tell a therapist about this one. That sounds messed up.

I spend way too much time passing mental judgements on celebrities. "And how did anyone ever think Nick Nolte was sexy?" "Nicole Ritchie/Skeletor looks like a freakin' corpse. Someone should cover up dem bones." "Kate Hudson's little boy is the prettiest little girl I've ever seen. He should get a Pantene endorsement." These are things I say to myself during my day. Out loud.

There you have it. I'm as flawed and not-smart as I look in the picture below. And as narcissistic and self-absorbed as anyone else who writes a blog. So I'm off to go read some more books about getting rich and teaching phonics.

Try not to be jealous.

What? Nothing...I didn't do anything...What are we talking about?

2006-08-14T12:04:00.000-07:00

If a crazy big eyed trickster came to my house and stood on my porch...this is what she would look like.

Not the cutest picture ever.

Kristi's 75 Year Plan

2006-08-12T06:36:00.000-07:00

Second 'Bottle Rocket' reference in a week. For those of you counting.

I have a blue 88 cent spiral notebook. I bought it in January. I take it to work with me on the weekends (more on that later). Let me share some of it's contents with you:

story ideas (someday I'm going to get a children's book published, don't you know?)
investment ideas
the phrase SBA
my name, elaborately decorated with hearts and flowers
the text of birthday party invitations, later typed up on the computer
stock purchases to research
birthday party lists
the word 'tax liens'
a list of these books, which I'm supposed to use as a guide when I go to the library
the phrase 'ebay drop off store'
the phrase 'pay us first'
a 75 year plan to wealth

See a pattern here? In case you didn't catch it, I'm going back to put the pattern in bold. The 75 year plan, by the way, actually only goes into 2008. But it's written in pencil on a blue spiral notebook and it made Will snicker when he saw it.

Here's a story for some background. San Antonio, July 1997. We had been married oohhhh...about a month. Will starts saying things like, "I wish I didn't have to work." And "Working is not for me." Imagine my shock. Imagine my horror. Imagine what I was imagining: My husband is a lazy bones and I'm in big trouble. Big trouble.

Cut to 1999. Will is still working to support us, still complaining. We have Charlie. I've finished school and I'm staying home with our new baby. Will has an idea. He calls it "Auction Banker." The idea is that Ebay customers could use their credit cards on a secure third site, run by us. We'd get a flat rate on every purchase made through our site. He buys the domain name and enlists our friend Kyle to design a page. I start to get a glimpse of a different kind of life...one where we are the owners and not just the workers. I'm intrigued. Needless to say the whole thing didn't work out. And a year later we see someone else offering the exact same service. They called it "Paypal".

I can not tell you the collateral Will earned with me with Auction Banker. First of all, I finally understood what he meant all those years when he said he didn't want to work. He didn't mean 'I'm poor and lazy and I don't want to work.' He wanted 'I'm fabulously wealthy and I don't have to work." Except he would never say 'fabulously'. So everytime he comes up with a new idea (and there have been many) I say to myself...Will invented Paypal. And I try to support him. I might troubleshoot the ideas and ask lots of questions...but I never discourage him from coming up with stuff.

Cut to 2003. Same friend Kyle and his wife, Leigh, previously referred to as 'Precious Mom' tell us they are done with credit forever. They are budgeting to the bare bones to pay off all their debt. Then they're going to take the money previously used on credit payments and invest it like crazy. They have a plan for financial freedom. We don't have a plan. We steal their plan.

2004 - We take 'Financial Freedom' classes at our church and get serious about paying off debt. Coincidentally, we buy house this same year, therefore adding $120,000+ to our liability column. We think our house is an asset. During these years Will toys with several ideas: a truck modification I don't understand, a engine modification that I don't understand but the engineer at our church gets, and a few other things that don't make it off the ground. I say, "Will invented Paypal" and encourage him to keep going.

2005 - We move to Idaho. Lose a salary. Can't sell the house.

2006 -Find a renter. Property taxes go up. We're losing several hundred dollars a month on the house. I get a job on the weekends at the local newspaper. I answer phones and read and write in my notebook.

Summer 2006 - I turn 30. Time is flying and we have done nothing, nothing to create wealth for future security. So over the past month or so I've become a little frantic about the future. The brief flirtation with business ownership gave me a revelation...we don't want to be workers! We want to be owners! (Like how I shouted that?) I look around my posh little neighborhood. That guy owns the flower store. Those guys own the Mexican restaurant. The lady walking with that lady owns the baked potato place (it's called Spuds and it's expensive...don't make fun). They. are. owners. They sail and garden and walk their dogs all the damn day long because they don't have to work.

I've caught the fever. And the only cure is more more money. And cowbell.

August 2006 - I'm reading books and making plans. We are going to approach this as a team. Will's job is to work on his business ideas and come up with new ones. He's also working on a web page supporting 3rd party candidates to break the 2 party stronghold on politics. My job is to juggle the budget so we are paying off debt and simultaneously investing. My newspaper money pays off debt. My babysitting (I can't believe I'm 30 and I just said 'babysitting') money gets invested. It's a plan. I have a list of which debts are getting paid off each year into 2008. I have a list of stocks and sectors I'm going to research as possible investments.

This is why I buy Cover Girl make up. This is why I want to cut our losses with our house and sell it and never mortgage a house again. I don't want to go anywhere for our 10 year anniversary next year. I don't want to exchange gifts at Christmas. I bought most of our curriculum used. I haven't bought a new pair of jeans in almost 2 years. I don't care anymore. I want stocks. I want property. I want real estate. I want to know I will not be working at the age of 70.

Have you thought about these things? I'm afraid some of these posts come across as self righteous drivel. "I'm soooo awesome because I homeschool and I don't use credit cards and you suck because you're not me." This is not my intention. But I do believe the American economy is one big stack of cards, precariously perched on a wobbly coffee table, with two 5 year olds playing tag all around it. It won't last. It's not sustainable. I don't know if it takes 5 years or 30 years but this easy credit nonsense is going to shake the house down.

And I want to be ready when it does.

Hey...wha' happened?

2006-08-12T06:03:00.000-07:00

We're going to Texas, baby! Will got a kick-arse deal from Southwest Airlines, saving us about $1000. The catch? Oh, yeah...well, we have to come down in about 2 weeks. Two weeks??? That's right, two weeks. The kids and I will be staying for a whole month and Will is coming down the last week of September. So, if you know me, send an email letting us know the best times to visit. If you don't know me you can send me an email saying 'Congratulations, you rock!' Or something like that.

Remember that time when I alluded to a possible business deal? No. You don't. I never made an allusion to anything. That was in your head and it never happened. Be sure to tell your psychologist you're having fantasies of the Harrisons owning businesses.

Actually, what started as a promising business purchase is not altogether over, although we know we could be on our last legs. An iconic local coffee shop is up for sale at a devastatingly reasonable price. Will and his friend, who used to own a bike shop in Houston, have been speaking with the owners and the local bank about purchasing the shop. All we need is a mere $70,000 in earnest money to secure the rest of the loan from the bank. The boys are being quite resourceful, speaking with local entrepeneuers and what-not, but we also know that other investors have signed confidentiality agreements with the owner and are also pursueing the purchase. The nerve of some of these jokers. Soooo, we're still committed to raising money until the game is up. At that point we'll show up drunk at the coffee shop yelling "We never liked coffee, anyway! You stupid uglyhead poopfaces!"

We start school one week from tomorrow. I have a kajillion things to do to get ready. I hope to post a 'Back to School' very special episode soon. But this afterschool special won't feature any teen pregnancies or cocaine fueled atheletes. We hope.

Read me, Seymour. Read me all night long. Part 3: The final countdown.

2006-08-10T10:16:00.000-07:00

Part tres in my trilogy o' literacy. I make no apologies...but I will preface the post by admitting you'll find most of these books on everyone's 'read this to be literate' list. This is because I've purposely used lists of the classics to make my book selections. I'm playing catch up after 10 years of illiteracy, remember? In no particular order. Except for the first one. It's my favorite.

Gone With the Wind - I read this book every year. And every year I say, "Damn you Margaret Mitchell for not writing the sequel yourself." I've never read "Scarlett"...I hear it's crap. So anyway, during the week or so I re-read the book I find myself thinking, WWSD? And I slip into a fake southern accent and swish my hips a lot and say, "Oh Will! You know I'm just a country girl. Can't you get those chilluns to bed without my little ol' help?" And he avoids me until I've gotten all my southern debutante fantasies out of my head.

A Tree Grows in Brooklyn - Lovely little story that completely captures urban povery, adolescent female angst and the struggle to make life better. Anyone who actually knows me in person would know why I love this book.

The Bell Jar - This is a must read for housewives everywhere. Plath precisely articulates the frustrations and drudgery that goes into being a housewife. Especially a housewife with a college education. The woman in the story toys with madness and suicide...so this isn't light fare.

Rebecca - Jealousy! Obsession! Insecurity! A mousy ex college girl marries a wealthy widower. A widower whose dead wife was the model of sophistication and beauty. For anyone who's ever had an unhealthy obsession. Easily my favorite suspense novel.

The Ordinary Princess - I fell in love with this story when I was 10 years old. (see above picture) The baby princess is cursed with "ordinaryness". Her creamy complexion sprouts freckles. Her fine blond hair turns brown. She prefers climbing trees to princessy activities. Sweet and fun.

Atlas Shrugged - What can I say that hasn't been written a million times over by fawning post grad students trying to save the world? This book falls into the "change your life" category. Dear decadent gods of Hollywood, please don't let Angelina and Brad get cast in this movie. I'll hate you forever if you do. In Frank Capra's name, Amen.

The Grapes of Wrath - Any novel that convincingly paints a portrait of a historical reality is cool with me. This one is as heartbreaking as it gets. And beautifully written.

The Good Earth - Very simple story of a Chinese farmer who struggles to improve his life. I wish I could spice it up...but that's really the story. The writing and imagery are pretty.

The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie - I loved this character like I love Scarlett. Calculating, manipulative, yet intelligent and non conforming. And a 40ish dame Maggie Smith stars in the movie version.

The Jungle - Don't read this on a full stomach. And don't read it at all if you plan on eating a burger in the next 24 hours. Do read it if you're a vegetarian and you want more ammunition for torturing your carnivorous friends.

Animal Farm - I read this in a day. And I'm linking to this post for a funnier review of the book.

That's all for now. You probably can't tell this, but most of the books listed above are shockingly short. I already mentioned my attention span so there you go. Six months from now I'll post a new list with much more intelligent books. You'll be shocked at all the crazy smart books I'll be reading. Dostoevsky, Tolstoy, and I swear I'm going to actually finish something by Jane Austen. I think my ovaries are actually mad at me for not being able to get through Pride and Prejudice.

I lika the books. Part 2: CS Lewis in the hay-youse!

2006-08-09T09:48:00.000-07:00

Butterfly in the sky. I can fly twice as high. Take a look. It's in a book...Reading Rainbow.

LeVar Burton seems like such a nice guy.

If I knew him I'd invite him over to the house to watch Bottle Rocket or something. I'd make some popcorn and pizza rolls. Here's what he'd say when the movie was over:

"Kristi, have you been reading to your kids lately?"

"Oh, LeVar. You know I spend 30 minutes everyday reading to my children." (He wouldn't be able to tell I was lying because he's very trusting.)

"Awesome. I bet you are an awesome mother."

"Yes. I am an awesome mother. More pizza rolls?"

If that wasn't the creepiest pretend conversation, I don't know what is.

Nonfiction - Christian Apologetics
To clarify, 'apologetics' can be substituted with the word 'defense'. These are books that systematically defend the Christian faith against common objections. Some are great and some skim over the tougher issues. But they're all worth taking a look at.

Mere Christianity - CS Lewis is the bomb-diggity-bomb. I love this book. It's a logical, eloquent and effecient philosophical defense of the faith. Easily the best book in this category.
The Consolation of Philosophy - A Medieval defense of the faith.
The Case for Christ/ The Case for Faith - These are both easy to read and answer some tough questions. I emphasize easy to read...these aren't major works of theology but are useful.
Defending Your Faith - Also attempts to deal with very difficult questions. Falls short on some issues, but overall a good book for people looking at Christianity.

Getting to the good stuff...

Fiction: Can't Live Without These Kid's Chapter Books

The Chronic(what?)cles of Narnia - Grandaddy of fantasy literature. I'm avoiding redundacy and leaving this out of my personal fiction list...just know it was my favorite before I started reading it to the kids.
Little House on the Prairie Box Set - Charlie doesn't know that this series is traditionally for girls. So I gave it to him for his birthday.
Amelia Bedelia - The kids don't remotely get the puns but they laugh their heads off anyway. That Amelia is a crazy nut. Literally. She should be locked away before she hurts someone.
Chitty Chitty Bang Bang - Way better than the movie. The movie descends into some psychadelic creepfest. The book is fun and adventurous. Written by the James Bond guy.
Peter Pan - Me: Ava, don't touch that...it's dusty. Ava: Yeah, we only like yellow dust. And there's no fairies in here. This story is so ingrained in her consciousness that she actually looked up and around the room to make sure there weren't any fairies flying around.
Stuart Little - Mouse + little clothes = hilarity.
Mr. Popper's Penguins - Penguins + small children = roll-on-the-floor-and-run-to-the-bathroom-before-you-wet-yourself hilarity.
Treasure Island - (condensed) Pirates, guns, treasure, talking parrots. Charlie couldn't get enough of this book. He still talks about it.
Oliver Twist (condensed) - Murder, street gangs, homelessness...good times. Charlie loved this book so much that he insisted we watch 2 different versions of the movie when we finished.

Coming soon...my favorite adult fiction. Adult, like for grown ups, not adult as in erotic literature. You know you were thinking it.

I'm a reader! Part 1: I likes to read.

2006-08-08T15:32:00.000-07:00

Believe it or not, I once took a 10 year hiatus from reading for fun. An occasional John (yes, we know, you're a lawyer) Grisham or Michael (how many pages is this technical junk?) Crichton was all I would attempt. Crichton always blinds me with science. But these books gave me great training for spotting formulaic writing, i.e. Dan (guy + girl + running + conspiracy = bestseller) Brown's fun but predictable books.

So what prompted me to jump back into the local library headfirst? A full-on, grown woman obsession with the Harrys. A "I pre-ordered this freaking book on Amazon so I could read it today so leave me alone!" obsession. Will hid Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince from me the day I got it. He snickered as I ransacked the house looking for it. I'm not sure but I think I was in a hysterical heap on our closet floor when he finally handed it over. Bastard.

So there's this 30 year gap in between the Harrys and I have to read something, right? So I started reading like a maniac. Now...as I've said before, I will stop reading anything I don't enjoy. I've quit some of the finest literature in world history because my attention span is this ( ) big. I also have issues with identifying with characters who are nothing like me. I think the word is 'empathy'. Apparently, I don't have it. But I've also stuck it out with books that you wouldn't expect a self-confessed prude like me to enjoy. I'm currently reading Lolita. I can't read it with out singing "La la la Lola" in my head. (I often have singing in my head problems...this is nothing new.)

Here is a fun little list of books that I love. Books I love soooo much that I would actually shell out less than $10 to buy them. I'm doing categories because I know that anyone who's reading this is thinking, "There's no way I'm reading this list unless the books are categorized." I'm psychic.

Nonfiction - Politics/History/Economics/Be-Rich-Like-Me Books
The World is Flat: A Brief History of the Twenty First Century - Scarier than Steven King.

Freakanomics: A Rogue Economist Explores the Hidden Side of Everything - Just for fun.
Guns, Germs and Steel: The Fates of Human Societies - A little dry but fun for history freaks.
Rich Dad, Poor Dad - I read this every year or so. I'm still not rich. I'm thinking of sueing.
The Millionaire Next Door - I have to buy Cover Girl brand make-up because of this book.
Total Money Makeover - Read this if you never read anything again. Except the Harrys.
The Ditch Digger's Daughters - I'm a sucka for success stories.
Uncle Sam's Plantation - A black, conservative woman's view of the state of things. Not for everyone, but I liked it.

Nonfiction - Education Books I Do Cartwheels For
Guerrilla Learning: How to Give Your Kids A Real Education... - The title is way too long. But the book is inspirational, for lack of a better word.
Books to Build On: A Grade-by-Grade Resource Guide for Parents and Teachers - Self Explanatory.
Dumbing Us Down - The Hidden Agenda of Compulsary Schooling - This fella's a little on the crazy side, but he was also an award winning NY city school teacher. So take it or leave it.
Marva Collins' Way - I looovvvee this lady. I want to be her. But I'm not.
The Well Trained Mind - This is the book that sealed the deal for me. In homeschooling, that is. I love this book like Whitney loves crack.

Holy guacamole! This is long. It's a good thing I'm breaking this into multiple posts. I'm off to read a little more about dirty Humbert.

Addendum: Humbert is freaking me out. Lolita goes back to the library with her nasty self.

Why you should never, EVER, vote for increased public school funding.

2006-08-07T13:21:00.000-07:00

Otherwise titled, "The one where Kristi might actually make a few enemies."

You could skip this whole post and read this. You'll get the same point.

As many of my old high school and college friends (many meaning about 4) have discovered, Will and I have some crazy unexpected ideas about things. Politics, money, religion...you name it and we've got our own little philosphy on it. So while some moms are posting cute pictures and funny stories, I'm often speechifying it up with multi pointed diatribes about how everyone should see things my way.

This is one of those posts.

Education. Most homeschoolers have had to do some hardcore soul searching to commit to this endeavor. I won't give the whole story here, but I decided to homeschool when I couldn't get a job teaching here in town. And once I began teaching my own kids I felt gloriously liberated from the nonsense that goes into the public school beaurocracy. So I'm doing my dream job for free. Good for me.

This was an easy decision to make. I had two years as a kindergarten teacher in a low income school under my belt. A low income school where the teachers had several hundreds of dollars given to them to put into their classroom supplies (new puzzles and toys) at the beginning of the year. A school where everyone got a free breakfast and lunch, even if your daddy made $50,000 a year. I could say to my principal, "I'd like to go to this professional development class...can the district pay for it?" Absolutely. And several hundreds of dollars later I learned some new songs about vowels and syllables.

There are many reasons why public schools are falling apart. Write me privately and I'll give you a multi page essay on the history of education and how we got to this incredible low point. (Let's see how many people take me up on that one.) But the main reason, the big, fat, stinking elephant in the room of a reason, is that taxpayers are funding a monopoly. No competition. If someone gave me over $8,000 to educate their kids (the average amount the public school system is currently spending per student) you can bet I'd get those little fools into freakin' Harvard by their 18th birthday. Never let anyone tell you schools need more money. They need competition. They need good management. They need to drop social studies and insert history. They need to drop character ed and teach the kids some freaking geography.

How much longer are we going to get by with American students being the retards of the world?

I never use the word retard. But desperate times call for desperate measures. So...you can't homeschool and private school is out of the question. It's ok. Just keep your eyes open. The word of the day is supplement. I have no judgement for anyone, whatever their education decisions are. But I do offer serious warnings to anyone who leaves it up to the public school system to educate their kids entirely.

This speech was brought to you by a glory hallelujah! article I read this afternoon. The same one posted at the top. And you don't know how hard it was to not write more. I'm cookoo for homeschooling.

By the way, I love teachers. I still call myself a teacher. I am not an anti-teachmite.

Sucks to be me.

2006-08-06T06:33:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago I was having a conversation with two of my favorite local moms. One informed me she did the old 'washed the mouth out with soap' thing when her son brandished his first bad word.

Intrigued, I whispered with a giggle, "What did he say?"

She looks over her shoulder and breathlessly whisper-shouts, "This day sucks."

The other mom present gave a slight gasp and says, "Oh no. We don't allow that word, either."

I smile and say, "Really? That's a bad word to you? Really?" And the two moms tell me the same thing my mom used say, the word has inappropriate connotations. So I make some lame statement about how people my age (as if pointing out how young and hip I am is going to make me any friends in the instance) don't have the same imagery when we use the word "sucks". We just mean it "sucks". And there's not much worse than sucking, is there?

So for the first time since I was a teenager, I'm aware of this little generation gap that revolves around a particular adjective (not verb, adjective). But I couldn't express myself well so I bumble around until the subject is mercifully changed. I forgot all about the whole conversation until this morning. I was reading Slate online when I came across this article explaining exactly what I was trying to say a few weeks ago. A Defense of the Word Sucks. Leave it to the super cool hipsters at Slate to explain how "sucks" works in contemporary lexicon.

Two post scripts: "Sucks" is not a word that is actually condoned in my house. But it would get "stupid" and "idiot" status. Not "bastard" or "all the other words" status. (Yes, my children have called each other idiots. It's actually kind of funny.)

Second, inspired by Angel at Fantastic Simple, I decided I needed some sort of humiliating ridicule in my life. So I submitted Here in Idaho to I Talk Too Much. I anticipate a response of "We hate you and your bastard face! etc. etc." Especially since I'm a mama blogger. But Will wants to see what they think of the template so I humored him. But I definately anticipate use of the word "sucks" in my review. I'm just glad I know what it means.

No trashy gossip Here. At the moment.

2006-08-05T09:05:00.000-07:00

True, I loves me some trashy celebrity gossip. Someday I'm going to stand before God and shamefacedly explain why I spent so many hours reading online junk instead of helping out African orphans.

"But God, we can't all be Angelinas." (As if I'd use celebrity name dropping at the judgement throne.)

"And we can't all be gossip mongers checking out People Online to see what Paris Hilton is wearing, can we?..." Oh snap. God got me there. God is very sarcastic.

So here is a short compilation of articles that have nothing to do with Mel Gibson or Lindsey Lohan. But keep reading anyway.

Scientific Evidence Backing Up the Obvious:
Britney Spears is actually retarded. Just kidding. I couldn't resist. This article discusses gender roles and the chemical differences that propel baby girls toward baby dolls and boys towards firetrucks. Studies indicate that baby monkeys make the same choices based on gender...so the whole 'girls have been culturally taught to be nurturers' arguement is out the window. It also talks about how alleged verbal and mathematical discrepancies between men and women aren't as great as we thought. Most moms have known this stuff since the dawn of humanity. It just took some scientists to convince everyone else. Female scientists.

Is This All You've Got?
Not a specific article per se, but a commentary. So I'm feeling liberated and I head over to Ms. online. And I'm struck with the monotony of women's "issues". This is why I can't consider myself a feminist. Because the feminists of America can't stop yelling "Reproductive Rights!" long enough to consider there might be a few other ways to actually help down and out females. Like if the most militant pro-choicers of the world used their energy to organize job training programs, entrepenuerial programs, financial education classes, mentorship programs etc. it's possible there wouldn't be as great a demand for abortions in the first place. Which is something the pro-lifers could get behind easily. And memo to Ms.: if you want to get my attention, don't polarize issues as being "left or right". It's hard to believe, but there are actually some women out there who don't buy the "all the right wing men of the world are oppressing me" thing.

NEA; No Excellence Allowed!

Now here is an instance of the pot (me) calling the kettle (the NEA) black (I was in a teacher's union). But this is out-of-control. Nevermind that the NEA's homepage offers nothing in the discussion of academic education. I can appreciate that the role of the NEA is to benefit public school teachers, not necessarily raise the standards of academic excellence in the public education system. I was a member of a teacher's union because they were there to protect me if I needed protection, kind of like the mafia. Fair enough. But the NEA has also made it their mission to squash any government funding towards private school vouchers. Still...fair game. This is their agenda...secure funding for public schools. Whatever. But here, HERE is where things get ugly. The National Education Association, largest union in the US, urges their members to boycott Walmart because Walmart contributes money towards private vouchers for underprivileged youth. This article discusses the Walton family's obsession with education reform and how they are using their resources to change American schools. I'm not a swearer usually but - Hell yeah! I'd double my shopping time at Walmart for that reason if I could.

I would've done some more but I think my extensive commentary is probably a little too scary for most readers.

Got my mind on my money and my money on my mind...

2006-08-05T08:11:00.000-07:00

See those ads at the bottom of the page? Click them. A lot. And I'll buy you a drink in December (if you live in Texas).

Libertarians are all about the Benjamins, baby.

The reason the phrase "wait and see" was invented...

2006-08-03T14:36:00.000-07:00

First congratulate me for the fastest master bedroom pack up of all time.

Then congratulate me for my awesome negotioting prowess allowing us to stay in our awesome too-good-for-us luxury home.

Then think about the two statements and laugh at me for being an idiot.

Ch ch ch ch changes...

2006-08-02T12:38:00.000-07:00

Everything is going crazy all at once. Here's the dealio:

1. New baby! Not mine! Bro. in law and sis. in law welcome the first Harrison grandchild that doesn't belong to Kristi. Baby Kaitlyn Grace arrived yesterday evening in San Antonio. Happy, healthy and all is well. Will and I are calling her 'Special K'. I'm calling her 'Katie Scarlett' in my head (Gone With the Wind reference). Nobody understands me. (sheds tear)

2. We're moving! We think! Our landlords raised the rent on our poor butts (and rightfully so, we got this place for a steal). So we're looking at moving into a smaller, ghettofied house in a less desirable Sandpoint location. No more pool. No more tennis courts. I feel like MC Hammer. Nothing's final yet...we're just getting ready for the inevitable.

3. Can't give details! Confidentiality agreement involved! Will and a work buddy are looking at buying a local business. It's happening so fast, and it may not happen at all. We're looking at funding options at the moment. Anyone with $50,000 to spare can contact me right away, k? So my next post might be something along the lines of "Everything fell apart...severely disappointed...feel like failures...I'll never leave bed again." But either way, you know I'll be blogging all about it.

4. Room got cleaned! For 5 minutes! I won't post another picture because it's back to pre-clean conditions. But the point is that the grown ups won the round.

5. School starts in 2 weeks! Holy jumpin' Jehosephat, I'm not ready! I'm still ordering curriculum and hello! possibly packing up curriculum. My world is all upside down.

So much for my quickie update. I'm sure I'll have more to say later...

I Think I'm Losing My Mind This Time

2006-08-01T11:09:00.000-07:00

This time I'm losing my mind.

Dear God in Heaven above, don't let me hurt my children. Amen.

This is a picture of hour 22 in the "Clean Your Room and I'm not Going to Help You This Time Because You're Just Sitting Around Playing!" standoff. We don't usually let these things go on multiple days...but something about their arrogant assumption that I would come in and do it for them set me off.

So this started yesterday afternoon at about 1 pm. "After you clean your room you can have a popsicle. And we'll go to the park if it's not too late." Several hours later manaically giggling Stinknasty is seen chasing manaically giggling Stinkerbell in and out of Charlie's room while he was finishing up his cleaning. "GET OUT!!!! GEEETTTT OOOUUUTTT!!!!" He screams, fighting back his tears.

"Alright girls...if you can't work on your room, you can help Charlie finish his." So they are forced to help him finish up. And he goes outside and plays on his scooter for the rest of the afternoon. Fastforward a few hours...the girls are still sitting around on their bony bottoms, not cleaning anything. Sad little eyes imploring me to help. By this time I'm nearly in a Mommy Dearest rage so I call Will,

"Bring me a Dr. Pepper on your way home." 2nd Dr. Pepper for the day. Bad mommy.

"Are you ok?"

"Yeah. But the girls are yours when you get home. Grrrrrrr."

Fastforward to dinnertime. By this point I've confiscated Juliet's Texas Bear and Ava's pink blanket, their two most treasured possessions. "You'll get them back when your room is clean." Picture the screaming wails of tortured baby sea lions and you'll hear the noises I've endured for the past 22 hours. We've done time outs. We've done some yelling. We even did a pop on the bottom when Ava defiantly growled "No!" and swiped her sad little arm in my direction.

They ate their dinner last night alone at the table and were sent straight to bed. No breakfast this morning. No lunch until it's done. Some parents would read this and say, "I wouldn't let my kids get away with this. I would 've got them in line hours ago." No doubt you would've. Some would read this and say, "What's the big deal? Just help them and get it over with." It's a matter of principal. They sat there for hours waiting for me to come and help...they even made a bigger mess while waiting. When given a choice between time out and cleaning they actually chose time out.

So here we are. We're actually making some headway as I write this. I'm not helping but I'm instructing from the computer. "Pick up all your Barbies and then come and tell me when they're cleaned up." Then I tell them something else to clean. It's dumb but it seems to be working. The glorious miracle in the story is that I didn't actually lose my temper as I often do in these situations. Neither did Will. Three cheers for us! We're maturing! Hip hip hooraay...hip hip...

Now that's just sad. Alright. I best go check on those bad girls. They probably skipped town while I was writing that last paragraph.

All I Really Need to Know I Learned On MySpace

2006-07-30T14:30:00.000-07:00

Here are the top 10 things I've learned after a few weeks on MySpace, or as my friend Jennifer calls it, 'CrackSpace':

1. The #1 job for young adults is "pimpin'". If the "pimpin'' field is a little overcrowded you can always apply to be a "gangsta". If I had known this 10 years ago I would have changed my major.

2. The conventions of the English language are no more. all u need iz sum imagin8shun & a keebord & u can b sh8kspeer {} \]

3. tHe SamE gOes FoR CapitIliZaTIon.

4. If you ain't mad in your picture, you ain't representin.

5. Tom is everyone's friend.

6. But if you try to hook up with Tom he'll issue a restraining order accusing you of being a stalker.

7. Just kidding.

8. It's easy to be a stalker with MySpace. You can look up your preschool crush, your high school enemies and that guy that never talked to you on the bus even though you were best friends in the third grade. Anonymously. You can even do a search of your hometown and just see everyone in your age group at once. But then you need to cover your tracks so your husband doesn't know how much time you're spending looking up people on MySpace. You don't have a job and you can't afford a divorce.

9. If you have less than 100 friends you are a loser. Loo-hoo-hoo-zerrrrr. Don't even bother reading my blog if you don't have 100 friends. I don't want to be associated with you. And you ain't representin', yo.

10. All modern teenage girls are actually hookers. It's true...you can tell by their pictures. In my day, back in the 90s, teenage girls were only a little skanky, now they're hookers. Somebody's got to work for all those pimps out there.

11. (Because 11 is one more than 10) The most important thing I've learned on MySpace is that 10 years from now, all of my children's online activity will be monitored my me and my husband. They won't know the meaning of computer privacy until they're 18 and out of the house. For shizzle.

Strawberry daiquiries + Shopgirl = I think I'm Claire Danes

2006-07-27T14:35:00.000-07:00

Will and I have an intricate bartering system. He pimped my blog so I cut the grass. I cut the grass so he made me (clears throat) several rum heavy strawberry daiquiries.

The kids are in bed, the blog is up and running, the house is cooling down. We settled down to our Netflix selection, Steve Martin's Shopgirl. I should preface the rest of the post by mentioning alcohol makes me chatty. And makes me think I look like Claire Danes.

"I totally look like Claire Danes. Don't you think I look like Claire Danes?"

(Avoiding eye contact) "Yeah. You could look like Claire Danes."

"No really...if I did my hair like that and lost some weight. Don't you think I look just like her?"

(Trying to hide his condescending sober smile) "Yeah..."

"If you ever left me I would totally marry a rich older man."

"If you left me I'd go out with Claire Danes."

"Like...I wouldn't even think twice about it. Especially if you died. I'd find a rich middle aged man who thought I was cute. Someone looking for a girl in her twent...."

(Snort)

"Shut up! You better leave me soon, while I'm still young enough to get an older man."

"I'm trying to listen to the movie."

"This is a cute movie. Why would someone who wrote something this charming be in The Pink Panther?"

(Will pausing and reversing to catch missed dialogue.)

"Who does Jason Schwartzman remind you of? I was thinking Todd, but not really. Who does he look like?"

(Not even acknowledging me)

"No one would want to marry me now because I had my tubes tied. Older men want a second chance to raise their kids...You better not leave me. I couldn't get anyone else."

"I'm trying to watch the movie."

"When I'm drunk I think I look like Claire Danes. Don't you think I look like Claire Danes? Who do you look like? Who would play you in a movie? Ed Harris? No....who have I said you look like?"

"I gave you too much to drink."

Serves him right for putting so much rum in my daiquiries.

Oh my heck, these guys are good.

2006-07-26T09:47:00.000-07:00

When I started my blog I struggled with what I wanted to do with this thing. In fact, my first post is a declaration of "I don't care what you think...I'm writing for all our relatives who want to keep up with us." Then I proceeded to write about politics and religion and whatever else I felt like writing. I probably waited a month before I even told our relatives about the blog. My blog turned into my own little editorial column.

In my initial efforts to generate traffic, I would spend waaaaay too much time jumping from Mommy Blog to Mommy Blog, leaving as many comments as I could muster. Don't get me wrong, I was sincere and only left comments on the sites I enjoyed...nevertheless, I was really hoping to get traffic to my own site. After a few weeks of this I was exhausted. It occurred to me that there's something slightly hypocritical about a mama blog in which the mama is spending her day glued to the computer desk.

At that point I put myself on a blog diet. I limited my mama blog viewing to less than 10 blogs per day...usually the sames one everyday. I only leave comments on posts that I connected with....so if I'm commenting on your page it's really, really because I enjoyed what you're writing. Even if you leave a comment for me, I'll only comment on your blog when I think it's appropriate. This is so I don't get sucked into a viscious campaign to get more people on my own page. And so I keep the whole blogging thing in perspective; fun, therapeutic, socializing (sorta), but not another full time job.

So here we are in July...my blog has been up for almost three whole months. I can safely say there are less than a dozen people visiting my site per day...and I am very ok with this. But then, THEN, I spend a few minutes scrolling through random Crazy Hip web pages.

"53 comments? Someone got 53 comments on her post???"
"126 comments??!!"
"People are getting paid to blog?? They get that much traffic???"
"What are all these ads? What's BlogHer? Are all these people actually meeting in person??"

What the heck? There are women out their with their own fan clubs...superstars in the blogging arena. And the writing...the writing....I don't even know what to say. Let's just say I felt like a 13 year old journaling out my pubescent emotions compared to some of these awesome writers.

"Dear Diary,
My face is broken out again. The pretty high school girl on the bus smiled at me. Maybe we can be friends and hang out at the mall. I am totally going to save up my babysitting money for a jean jacket like hers."

I think I'm better off just doing my little thing and not trying to be a blogging homecoming queen. Especially when, in the blogging world, the homecoming queens are gorgeous and smart and articulate. I'm the dorky debate club girl reading Newsweek during my lunch break. So if you read my blog, thank you. Let's be friends. Who wants to be popular anyway? I hear the popular girls are easy...just kidding.

This too shall pass.

2006-07-24T23:36:00.000-07:00

Ummm....I don't know what happened to my blog. Will is in the process of creating a new design for me but he has to learn how to build one from scratch. Who knew this stuff was so hard to do????

So I've got this generic one here while he learns how to do what Izzy mom and all the other blog designers have already figured out. I'll go ahead and update my links tomorrow. But don't get too attached to 'Generic Green Blog'...better things are coming. Someday.

Some like it hot so let's turn up the heat 'til we fry.

2006-07-24T22:13:00.000-07:00

Sometimes God thinks North Idaho folks are getting too uppity, what with their beautiful landscape and mild climate. So to put them in their place he sends a 100 degree heat wave. "But Kristi," you say, "The whole country is experiencing a heat wave. What makes you think North Idaho is being especially punished, pray tell?" Because these fools don't put air conditioning in their homes!!! Because I haven't been without air conditioning in 100 degree weather in over 10 years! And I'm yelling because I'm disoriented and muddled by the extreme heat!

Aaaaannnd I'm done.

You know how I usually do thematic posts, like little essays? Not this time. I. Can't. Think. So. Hard. So here's the one where I write random things that have no coherence whatsoever.

Birthday season is officially over. We had a hot, but fun soccer party for Charlie at the park yesterday. So I finished my first year of what I call 'birthday politics'. Politics in that you have to campaign to get families to your birthday parties. Among my top 10 fears of all time, up there with accidently forgetting that I'm not wearing my bathing suit bottoms and stripping down to my panties at the pool, is the fear that no one will show up to one of my kids' parties. So I'm a party politician. By the way, if you think that oreos and black licorice on a white cake will look like a soccer ball, you're wrong. Just buy the damn cake because you'll look like an idiot trying to make one yourself.

We're driving 2 hours to get to a Sonic today. That's right, you heard me...whatcha gonna do about it? I earned a trip to Sonic. And nobody, not you, not Mr. gas man, nobody's gonna stop me. At least our van has air conditioning.

I haven't seen a moose yet. Which is weird, because there's moose in all the decorations and pictures up here. Or is it meese?

To the guy who invented built- in sprinklers: first, thank you. That was a good idea you had there. Second, could you come over and show us how to use these bad boys? Our crappy leasing office won't show us and our grass is turning yellow. The neighbors are giving us dirty looks. One day I'm going to wake up with burning effigies on my lawn. Please help us.

Our "flying to Texas at Christmas" fund is getting a little boost. I'm watching one of Juliet's playmates 3 days a week. Poor Charlie, too much estrogen in the house. He's spending his summer avoiding prancing little fairy princesses who like to get into his stuff. He got a scooter for his birthday. He'll be scooting over to his buddy's house for the rest of the summer.

My five year old daughter is boy crazy. This is normal, right? Her current obsession is a nine year old neighbor. Let's call him "Moose". "Mom...do you think Moose likes me?" She wants him to be her boyfriend. She also uses her Barbies to play a game called "naked club" in which all of the Barbies...you guessed it...get naked. Now I told Will that I used to have crazy crushes like this when I was little, too. And then I spent my entire adolescence behind big hair and glasses that covered my whole face and no one had to worry about me and the boys. On the other hand, I happen to think my girl is particularly pretty. And pretty + boy crazy = teen pregnancy in my book. So is it wrong to hope that your daughter needs coke bottle glasses?

Three weeks ago Charlie wouldn't let go of the side of the pool. Now he can swim the length and he's jumping in doing flips and all kinds of craziness. I still pinch my nose to go upside down underwater.

Ava reminds me of Margaret O'Brien. Margaret O'Brien was of the little girls in "Meet Me in St. Louis." Ava also likes to say "Oh snap" at random moments.

This is all. Thus ends my completely random post.

Mamas, Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up...

2006-07-20T13:33:00.000-07:00

...At all.

My oldest is seven today. Most of our parenting instruction up to this point has revolved around pushing, or even forcing our children towards independance. Hugs, kisses and affection, yes. But no coddling of whiny kids trying to get their way. No baby talk. No "boo-boos" and "owies". And no one, not even nightmare terrified toddlers, can share the big bed with me and Will.

What may sound draconian to some parents has suited us fine as wine. Over the years I've noticed how one's parenting style is often a reflection of their circumstances. For example, I'm priveleged to know a few older parents who struggled with the conception and successful birth of their children. And they approach parenting with such a grateful attitude, cherishing the miracle of their child, that you can see their love on their faces and in their body language. They may be more likely to coddle and use the baby talk out of a true sense of wonder and privilege. I love being around parents like that. They encourage me to take the edge off my voice a little and sit back and smell the sunscreen.

Parents like me have a different worldview. I couldn't put into words the absolute and unconditional love I have for my babies. And I know that they know they are loved. But from day 1, even before day 1, say day -152, I've been preparing myself for their release into the world. The day when they would, hopefully, pack their bags and leave for a whole new life. To us, loving them and preparing them to leave us go hand in hand. You can't do one without the other.

My son is 7 today. Seven years ago we gave birth to someone who would someday have to pay his own bills and find his own way in the world. And like all parents, we want him to avoid our mistakes. Ask him about credit...he'll tell you that we don't borrow money to buy what we can't afford. Ask him about his chore money. He'll tell you that he has to put $2 into his savings envelope and he's never ever allowed spend it. He also has a fairly sophisticated understanding of his parents' religious differences and a slight understanding of Libertarianism. All these years, for seven years now, I have been preparing myself for the day when I let them go. And today I realized how soon the day will come.

Ava walks into my room, real tears streaming down her face. "She won't wet me play with her toy!!!"

I usually correct her, "Let. L L Let. Say it again, please." But I didn't correct her.

How long will her 'lets' be 'wets' and her 'verys' be 'berys'? How much longer will she ask to sit on my lap? How many more years before Charlie stops creating elaborate soccer matches between his toy cars? When will Juliet be done insisting on wearing Easter dresses with black tights and dress up jewelry? How much longer do I have before the sarcasm and rolling eyes start? It's only been seven years since we started this family but seven years is a millenium in the world of childhood. Yet it goes so fast. So, so fast. In another seven years he'll be taking his pre-SAT and beginning high school. Seven years from that he would have been three years out of the home. I married when I was 21. Could he be married in 14 years? In 14 years I'll be looking at my grown up son. In 14 short years I'll have a 19 year old daughter and a 17 year old daughter. In 14 years my whole world of parenting will be over.

I turned 30 two days ago. Cheers to me, I was carded on my birthday. Fourteen years ago I was a high school girl, waiting for my life to begin. Now my life is happening...and every day, every minute I need to remember how precious these hours are.

I'm not usually so sentimental, you know. But my baby turned seven today.

An Inconvenient Alarmist

2006-07-15T15:06:00.000-07:00

Not Gore. Me.

I have a love/hate relationship with online news coverage. Having violently ripped cable and network tv out of our home, I've been spared from ongoing Michael Jackson/Britney Spears/ridiculously trite items that seem to dominate tv reports. On the other hand, I spend a fair amount of time reading online news from the same sources. And do you know which headlines I always click? The most morbid, sensationalist pieces I can find. Let me give you a sample:

21st Century Foot Binding

N Sync Boy in Gay Bar! Read All About It!!!!

Las Vegas Hookers Want You to Love Them in the Morning

Sex Addict Teacher/Nude Photos/You Get the Picture

What's wrong with me? I'm only moderately aware of global events but I can tell you about every murdered child and renegade teacher in the United States. It's as if Giraldo Rivera has taken over my fingers and forces me to read crap. "Don't read about Putin's strained relations with Bush, Kristi. That's boooorrrrring. Oh look..Jessica Biel is auctioning off a date with herself to benefit a teenage amputee." I have not once in my life seen anything that Jessica Biel was in. But I know she loves the teenage amputees.

So here's another manifestation of my news reading habits: I truly believe we're all going to die any minute now. Like before I finish this post. Remember Y2K? Remember the crazies who thought all the airplanes were going to crash into their bedrooms? That was me. Remember Katrina? I read about Katrina coverage and hashed out a survival plan with my husband. Not, "Oh let's be sure we have some blankets and water and extra food stashed in the van in case of an quick escape". No. My plan was more along the lines, "Could we survive in the mountains if all of civilization self destructed? Could we hunt bears?" My husband, being the masculine guy that he is, "Yeah. Of course. I don't think we'll have to...but duh...I could hunt bears." ( That's a joke. Will doesn't hunt and I've never heard him say "duh".)

I'm the girl staying up at night wondering if the one homeless guy in Sandpoint is going to break into my house and kidnap my children. I'm the girl wondering if a runny nose is really the dreaded chicken flu running rampant in my home. I'm the girl who is convinced India is going to take over the United States in our lifetimes because our children are graduating college as illiterates. Don't get me started on all the different scenarios in which the United States is completely dismantled. It doesn't help that my husband won't eat at a restaurant with his back to the door. You know, so he can get any bad guys that come to rob the place. Duh.

So here's where my nuttiness gets complicated. First, a riddle: What do you get when you cross a wacky conspiracy theorist who loves stories of doom with actual predictions of doom? Crazy Kristi, the girl who thinks Mr. Global Warming is going to gun down her family any minute now. With a machine gun. Why are there wildfires in California? Global warming. Devastating hurricanes? Global warming. Unprecedented number of stingrays on the New England coast? Global warming. So now I'm sitting here getting to choose between the crazies who think global warming is going to kill us off in our kid's lifetimes and the crazies who think we have another couple of hundred years or so. What's an alarmist like me to do??? Stephen freakin' Hawking thinks we need to get off the planet! I know nothing about space travel. I'm screwed.

So I'm starting to think that the constant reporting of sensational news bits compared with the occasional mention of the earth rapidly heating tells us a great deal about ourselves. Maybe Americans feel so helpless in the face of global warming that we'd rather read about gay N Sync boys as a form of relief. Relief Roman circus style. Here's a headline that is sure to get our attention:

"Gay N Sync Boy Travels to Space to Escape Effects of Global Warming"

Beat that, ABCnews. So I'm off to go build my spaceship. Wish me luck.

George Bailey, I'll love you 'til the day I die.

2006-07-10T21:16:00.000-07:00

Can you believe it? Crazy Hip etc. used my prompt for their writing collaboration project:

“What song or movie best tells the story of your life/family?”

Having already written about my love affair with the Tenenbaums, and reluctantly dismissing my first instinct to write of my similarities with the protagonists of "Weekend at Bernie's", I decided I must write about the movie that makes me weep everytime I see it. The movie I was thinking of when I wrote the prompt in the first place. "It's a Wonderful Life".

Like many of you, I had seen this movie every year since I was a child. It was only a few Christmases ago that I realized the frustrations, worries, helplessness and joys flawlessly portrayed by Jimmy and Donna were exactly what I was experiencing as a young mom and wife. While not as altruistic as the Baileys, we waged an ongoing battle with poverty. Blessed with fertility, our colic plagued babies kept on coming. We had our moments, our days, our weeks, when the dead end jobs and constant crying nearly did us in. I could see George's frustration and hopelessness growing in Will. I could see Mary's fear and helplessness in the mirror. I prayed for endurance.

Seeing the movie reminds me of intimate whispers of future travel and adventures, dreams thwarted by babies and bills.

I'm shakin' the dust of this crummy little town off my feet and I'm gonna see the world.

Sleepless nights, debating which bills we would skip out on this month.

You call this a happy family? Why do we have to have all these kids?

Worrying about Will. Wondering how much longer he could last.

[to George] Look at you. You used to be so cocky! You were going to go out and conquer the world!

And then something happened. It wasn't an epiphany moment or divine revelation. It was a series of fortunate events. New jobs, new house, a permanent end to the baby making. We both matured a little and began to see the light at the end of the tunnel. And then, our own Bedford Falls called us to Idaho. See...I told you'd we'd travel. Look at us! Boating and swimming and skiing and biking and hiking. We're adventuring. We made it. We passed our terrifying night of panic and were celebrating Christmas with bells and friends and joy in our lives. And here we are. Still poor, but still in love. Occasionally frustrated, more often grateful. And the dreams of the future are back, too, only now I'm more appreciative of the present.

Remember that night we broke the windows in this old house? This is what I wished for.

Wasted days, wasted nights.

2006-07-08T06:33:00.000-07:00

Someday, in waning days of this disappointing administration, I'm going to do a lengthy post about the wasted opportunity that was George W. Bush. On that day, I'll paint a picture of the glorious presidency that 'could have been' had W. stuck to the vision he sucked me into in 1999. I'll shed a tear, drink a glass of wine, and nostalgically blather about my pipe dreams of privatizing social security and America's new non-interference policies in the global community. What a sad day it's going to be.

In the meantime, I came across this article articulating what exactly is going wrong with Republicans today. "Why Conservatives Can't Govern", or "Why Kristi Abandoned the Republican Party and is Now a Libertarian Even Though She Doesn't Believe They're Ever Going to Get Anyone Elected and Should Stop Reading the News Because it's All so Disappointing Anyway."

Maybe I'll get that glass of wine today.

Have I got a link for you!

2006-07-05T13:56:00.001-07:00

Do you spend countless hours neglecting your work/children reading online celebrity gossip?

Do complain about our celebrity obsessive culture yet find yourself drawn to photographs of latte-carrying, tiny-dog-owning, anorexic ingenues?

Have I got a link for you! Now you can keep up with celebrity gossip while self righteously mocking the absurdity of it all. Don't feel guilty for ogling...just feel better about your ordinary, healthy weighted, normal lip sized self.

Blogger isn't being cooperative so you have to cut and paste:

http://galleryoftheabsurd.typepad.com/

And don't blame me if you don't leave the computer for another 30 minutes or so.

Just another myspace loser

2006-07-03T11:45:00.000-07:00

All this time I thought myspace was for singles trying to hook up with other singles. Or at least teenagers trying to make their unique and independant statement to the world through highly stylized pouty photographs. So I mocked and disparaged myspace. Now it's time for my comeuppance. Because it turns out that everyone I've ever known in my life (that's about 11 people at this point) has a page on myspace. Who knew? Not me. So now I'm another myspace loser. You can check out my page and invite me to be your friend if you want. Or you can make fun of me for following the herd. But please, whatever you do, leave lots of glittery, shiny graphics in my comments. I don't have enough glitter in my life.

Holla at cha girl!

She comes in colors everywhere. She combs her hair.

2006-07-01T17:30:00.000-07:00

She's like a rainbow.

Today we celebrated Juliet's 5th birthday with a full-on-invite-everyone-we-know pool party. I invited kids I met last week. I invited kids I've only spoken to once. And everyone came! It was a surprisingly successful party. They played, they swam and I hooked up with other moms for some future adult conversation dates. It was nice to see Juliet playing with other little girls. She misses her San Antonio friends.

So after a full week of fretting whether or not anyone would come, preparing a pool-shaped cake, filling goody cups and thoroughly working myself to silliness over a 5 year old's birthday party- I'm exhausted. So this is all for now.

She shoots colors all around

Like a sunset going down

Have you seen a lady fairer?

Hillbilly that is. Take your shoes off. Set a spell.

2006-06-25T19:52:00.000-07:00

I found this fun quiz on NPR this morning. Apparently my easy usage of "y'all" makes me 65% dixie. And it doesn't help that I call my daily Dr. Peppers "cokes". Take a look at the quiz and see how you fare. But don't be fooled by the selection of "quaint southernisms" included in the introduction of the quiz. Maybe Southern folks were saying "cain't" and "if'n" 50 years ago but the only place you're going to hear that nonsense today is on Beverly Hillbilly reruns. In fact, if you read the "southernisms", the tone becomes a little condescending.

Backer n. A large cultivated weed you can smoke legally. (Southerners don't get all that excited about the syllables in front of the accented one.)

Gol darn (it)! exp. An expression of surprise or frustration.

His'n poss. pro. Belonging to him, as in "Are them-air boots mine, yourn or his'n." (See "her'n" for more.)

Please. This is just silly. I'm glad there are still some parts of the country with their own dialects. And I think a Texas drawl is as charming as any other accent around. But Southern accent does not equal stupidity. Or even poor grammar. Sadly, I'm coming to believe the rest of the world has this perception of Texans, and Southerners in general, as being gun-toting, ignorant cowboys. I won't take the space to list the great musicians, intellects, writers and artists from the South. And I won't give dignity to the stereotypes by discussing our president. So I'll just say that if I hear you drawl or twang I'll chase you down and ask where you're from. And if you say, "Alabama" or "Tennesee" I'll tell you I'm from Texas and comment on how nice it is to hear an accent. And I'll tell you about how much I love being away from the heat but how I miss the people and the food. And our conversation may be a bit nostalgic but will certainly be coherent.

Y'all come back now, y'hear?

Hitler vrs. Coulter

2006-06-25T13:23:00.000-07:00

Who can tell the difference? Take the quiz and find out how well you know your favorite crazy hatemongers.

(I haven't checked the sources out on the quotes...research that one yourself).

Emulating Etheline

2006-06-19T13:46:00.000-07:00

AFI has issued a list of the 100 "Most Inspirational Movies." It's funny how movies can have a life changing power over people. How many politicians say they went into politics because of "Mr. Smith Goes to Washington"? How many lawyers drew their inspiration from Atticus in "To Kill a Mockingbird"? It's one thing to love a character because they're lovable. It's another to see pieces of yourself in the character. I love Katharine Hepburn, for example, but patrician New Englander I am not. I love Audrey Hepburn as Holly Golightly, but the character never made sense to me. Where is her furniture? Why doesn't she get a job? I think to myself.

There is one character, only one that I can think of, that I have closely identified with since I first saw her: Etheline Tenenbaum. When I saw The Royal Tenenbaums in 2001 my son was 2 and my oldest daughter was a few months old. But I knew that was the mom I wanted to be. Confident, intelligent, dedicated. Of course in the movie all of the Tenenbaum children grow into dysfunctional adults, but we'll forget that part for now. Etheline is my model when I take Juliet to plays and sign up Charlie for art classes. Etheline is my model when I enroll the kids in tennis classes and swimming lessons. In the same week.

I think we all secretly hope there is a genius lurking in our child, just waiting for the right class to pop out. I don't delude myself with prodigy whims at this point. I just want the kids to have something, anything that they enjoy enough to pursue on their own. And how will they find that 'something' without the exposure? This is what I tell myself when trotting the kids from the tennis courts to the athletic club. And after a long, dreary winter with nothing to do but watch the snow fall all of this sudden activity is very welcome. So far.

So while I secretly dream of future piano recitals, geography bees and tennis tournaments, I try to keep an Etheline-like perspective. Are they having fun? Are they making friends and getting along with teammates? Usually the answer is 'yes'. So I feel good about the role I've played so far. And as long as we stay out of the beauty pageant circuit I think I can manage keeping Etheline as my role model.

And on another disturbing note....

2006-06-16T09:29:00.000-07:00

I found this on My So-Called Homeschool. In case you don't feel like looking it up, it's a really long article about a new "Christian" video game in which violence is directed by Christians against non-Christians in a future New York City. More disturbing and shocking than anything I've read recently. After reading the article, it appears the affiliation of this sick game is with the Left Behind franchise.

So here's my little tirade: These guys do NOT represent Christ or Christianity as it is revealed in the Gospels. Neither did the perpetrators of the Spanish Inquisition. Or the knights of the medieval crusades. Or the Spanish missionaries who forced Native Americans to convert to Christianity. Or anyone else who used hatred and violence in the name of Jesus. Anyone who would hold an ugly anti-gay sign in a public protest is not practicing a Christ-like faith. The Gospels talk about Jesus being his angriest when dealing with the religious hypocrisy of of the devout elites of his days. The ones who imposed their "God given" rules of holiness on everyone else. These are the guys who made Jesus the maddest. Not the sexual sinners. Not the ones practicing a different faith. To those he just offered a better way. To the religious hypocrites he offered condemnation and judgement.

So, back to this video game. It looks like this game is just a manifestation of some of the dialogue going on in churches across the country. I am a Christian. And I might even be called an 'Evangelical Christian' . But I think it's a scary day when Christians are using fear and hatred to get folks into their churches. Or bigotry and whatever reasons to keep people out of their churches. Jesus was interested in relationships...not scaring people into Heaven. I think the religious 'right' would do itself a favor by re-examining the Gospels and the characteristics of Christ. And taking a look at the ministry of Martin Luther King as an example of how to theologically stand firm but with love and respect for others.

Reason # 152 why I'm a libertarian

2006-06-13T22:30:00.000-07:00

Read this and weep. Shame on big republican government. Shame, shame, shame.

Nothing could be greater, say hey, alligator!

2006-06-09T16:51:00.000-07:00

My best, best, best friend 4-ever from high school dragged her beautiful family across the country to see us this week. For reasons my friend fully understands and can heartily laugh at, I will refer to her as 'Precious Mom'. I'll refer to myself as 'Sarcastic Mom'. Here's the part where I write in 3rd person. Because I feel like it.

Here's a run down of what not-quite-30 year old girls do when they get together:

Look at goofy high school kids lip syncing on You Tube and praise God above they didn't have access to said technology in 1993. Wonder if it would be inappropriate for not quite 30 year old girls to lip-sync a particular "They Might Be Giants" song and broadcast on You Tube. Decide, yes, it would be inappropriate.

Precious Mom gives Sarcastic Mom lessons in scrapbooking. Sarcastic Mom begins another in a string of 'Look at what 'Precious Mom' can do....I must be able to do it too!' hobbies. Previous attempts at emulating Precious Mom include jewelry making, sewing, crocheting, furniture staining and decoupaging. By 'decoupaging' Sarcastic Mom has vague memories of using Modge Podge and magazines to make crap. Precious Mom is an accountant who is also incredibly creative and talented. Sarcastic Mom says, "I may not be able to do that stuff, but I can make fun of you for using such a high voice to talk to Baby Precious"(whose cuteness warrants excessively high voices). Precious Mom laughs and says, "Whatever."

Enjoy a lovely lunch sans kids. I'm not being sarcastic...it was lovely.

Traipse around Ross Creek Cedars and Kootenai Falls out in Montana. Feel adventurous. The moms wonder if they'd ever make in on 'The Amazing Race'. Decide only if Precious Mom navigates.

Spend countless minutes discussing the 'Precious' and 'Sarcastic' kids. Analyze, speculate, make predictions about the future of the babies. Moms decide they are blessed to have such beautiful and intelligent children. Sarcastic Mom secretly stil believes her children deserve the nicknames "Turkey Bones", "Stinkerbell" and "Stink-Nasty".

Back to 1st person. So this trip started when I told my friend my sad and sudden revelation that I would never hold her new baby while she was still a baby. And two weeks later, here they are, Baby Precious, Precious Mom and Precious Dad. And to have such friends I feel very blessed. Not sarcastically blessed; truly, unequivically blessed.

Oh! I really think you're swell. Uh Huh! We really ring the bell.

Wonderful, it's wonderful...to know that you're just like I.

2006-06-05T09:24:00.000-07:00

My husband and I will be celebrating our 9 year anniversary this week. If I wasn't a cool girl who doesn't listen to country music I'd be quoting the Shania Twain song, "You're Still the One"....we beat the odds together. But I don't listen to country so I'm quoting the Smashing Pumpkins instead. Fittingly, because when we got married my husband was a 20 year old college kid obsessed with the Smashing Pumpkins. And I was a 20 year old college girl so in love that I was completely oblivious to any idea of what it takes to survive in the real world. But we got married...the first of our friends to take the walk down the aisle. The first to have babies. The first to settle down into bills and full time jobs and student loan repayments. We were married before we could legally drink...we had our first child while working for temp agencies. Will actually quit school to support our new family. It's amazing to look back at all that has changed in the last 9 years.

He grew up to be a guy who could nicely support a family of five, even without a college degree. I grew up to be a girl obsessed with the education of our children, supported enough to devote myself fulltime to it. He lost some hair, lost his faith and embraced unexpected political ideaologies. I kept my faith, kept an open mind and gained respect for someone asking the hardest questions about everything. We are not the same two people who married in 1997. We were kids then. But I like who we've become even more. We still make each other laugh. We still have long conversations about the stuff that's important to us. And most importantly, we still plan for the future...we look forward to the years to come.

And I can't help but feel attached to the feelings I can't even match
With my face pressed up to the glass, wanting you....

On the plus side I get to eat ice cream.

2006-06-02T08:27:00.000-07:00

This is me right now. Only with red hair, freckes and no mustache. I had my four smartest teeth yanked out yesterday and my lower jaw is swollen to Don Corleone-like proportions. Everyone says getting your wisdom teeth taken out is no big deal so I thought, I'll just spend the day enjoying my pain medication and taking it easy. Instead I spent the day in and out of consciousness on my bed unable to keep my first few meals in my stomach. And since Will had to go back to work today it's "we're watching movies and don't bother mama" at the Harrison household. I feel a little better. Other than trying to be an authority figure when I sound like Mush Mouth. So it's off to the couch for me. Let's just hope all the kids make it to the bathroom on time and make life easy for me today.

Summer days drifting away to uh-oh those summer nights.

2006-05-29T13:43:00.000-07:00

Last "Grease" reference for a while, I swear. Really, I'm getting too old to be quoting "Grease" every other post.

Speaking of getting old, I turn 30 this summer. Not until July, but still...this is the year I turn 30. Thirty. 30. So here is a short list of what I want us (me) to accomplish this summer. So I can say, "This is what I did the year I turned 30. I was not sitting at my computer working on my blog the entire summer. I actually did some stuff."

1. Organize some sort of family volunteer project. I haven't worked this out yet, but I want the kids to have some sort of sense of obligation to help others with their time and efforts. Liberals aren't the only ones who want to help people :)

2. Go horse-back riding. Earlier attempts at being adventurous (I'll tell the disastrous skiing down a bunny-hill incident another time) have not worked out for me. But this can't be too bad...nothing's worse than my ski pants falling down to my ankles as I cling to my husband and his co-worker's helpful wife on Schweitzer Mountain. What's the worse that could happen?

3. Play some tennis. There's a tennis court 15 feet from my bedroom window. I've never played tennis. But I signed the kids up for some lessons this summer so maybe we'll figure it out together. Another way to get my lazy behind off the computer.

4. Plan and execute two successful birthday parties. Let me say that getting kids to a birthday party in a town where you don't actually know anyone is no small feat. It involves serious networking and schmoozing worthy of a Hollywood PR master. And without our family here to be the party guests, I've got a big task ahead of me. I'll be carrying my sad little address book everywhere I go, just in case I happen to meet moms with kids who'd like some free cake and party favors. And don't think I'm above actually calling strangers and inviting them to our parties. I'm not.

5. Knit something. Anything. Everything I attempt turns out raggedy looking. Like the stuff those guys wear in the Matrix. So I never finish anything. My thoughtful husband purchased some knitting lessons for my Mother's Day gift. So maybe I'll learn how to actually read a pattern and make some booties or something. It's been silly calling knitting a hobby when I end up unravelling everything I attempt.

Five goals are enough for now. We mustn't over-extend ourselves. I will be working on other goals as well... mastering some sort of chore/incentive system for my lazy kids, planning for the new school year, reading as many books as I can manage, go camping, becoming a better person, the usual drill. Maybe finding a Bible study with other like minded moms. Or getting more into Christian apologetics. Whatever I do, my biggest goal is to not get too attached to the internet and all these great blogs I read everyday. Because the more time I spend writing for my blog, and reading other people's blogs, the less time I actually spend in the real world. So it's time to go and actually do some stuff.

I'm too mad to even come up with something to say...

2006-05-25T10:44:00.000-07:00

Don't read this if you're in a good mood and don't want to get angry.

Here's why the Republicans are losing their minds...

2006-05-25T10:00:00.000-07:00

They think they should alter The Constitution to prohibit gay marriages. Not just create a law. Not just issue a strongly worded statement. They want to add an amendment so judges won't have the leeway to interpret the Constitution differently. They don't want the states or their legislators or (God forbid) individuals to be able to determine the legitimacy of gay unions. So if the Republicans can manipulate the Constitution to ban gay marriage, the Democrats could manipulate the Constitution to ban anything. And since when do we use the Constitution to ban things, anyway? I thought we learned something from Prohibition.

No matter where you stand on the issue of gay marriage, I respect your opinion. And I respect the right for you to teach your children what you believe without interference from the government, the church, your child's teacher, whoever. This is how morality should be done. In the home. Because as soon as we let legislators define marriage, they are going to try to define other areas of morality for us. If you think I'm wrong, check out what Hilary thinks about who knows what's best for Americans.

The funniest part is that congressmen are operating under the assumption that they are on some moral higher ground than the rest of us. Even as the FBI are raiding their cash-filled refrigerators. Even as Dennis Hastert is screaming his head off over the sanctity of the Congressional office. Apparently his office has a few more rights and privileges than American bedrooms.

A fuel injected cut-off and chrome plated rods oh yeah.

2006-05-24T13:01:00.000-07:00

It was "Lost in the50s" weekend in Sandpoint. This is us at the classic car show on Saturday. So the funny thing about these pictures is that we're the only ones in a 50 mile radius wearing 50s garb. It turns out all the natives wear their poodle skirts on Friday night at the classic car parade. Only the idiot Texans wear them on Saturday at the classic car show.

Despite Will's mean guy face we had fun. Notice how sinister Ava (the little one) looks in her picture with Will. Like she's fixing to take off in one of these hot rods.

Ten Months and Counting

2006-05-22T10:00:00.000-07:00

Ten months ago we moved to Idaho from Texas. Before we left Texas, I told Will I wanted us to do some things differently in our new life. The biggest change was the abandonment of cable or network tv in our home. So we've gone ten months without tv. And I don't think we'll ever go back.

I was prompted by this article to write about our life without tv. Let me first say that I have lived my whole life addicted to television. I was watching MTV back when they were running Monkees marathons. I remember watching 'You Can't Do That on Television' wondering why they always said 'abote' instead of 'about'. My first imaginary friend was Ritchie Cunningham from Happy Days. My sister and I would fight over who got to be Belinda Carlisle when the Go-gos came on. I've got more commercial jingles in my head than I can count. So why would I decide to completely eliminate something from my children's lives when it was such a major part of my own life?

Because tv is so different than it was when I was growing up. I used to watch stuff like 'Family Ties' and 'Growing Pains' with my family. They were made as family sitcoms. Sure, they weren't all that funny and looking back the laugh track sounds a little pathetic, but we could watch it together. I don't know of a non-Disney channel show on today that our family could watch together. And what about the Disney channel shows? They're great, except that the primetime ones are more for tweens than 4 year olds. So my 4 year old was prancing around singing Hilary Duff and Lindsey Lohan songs about love and romance. See my Bratz post to find out why this was unacceptable in our house.

Even the sports were out of control. I remember changing the channel or putting the tv on mute during the commercials of the Spurs playoffs because of all the sexy commercials. So we concluded we weren't getting enough out of tv programming to make it worth the constant censorship. And in Idaho we'd start fresh without tv.

So what is our life like now? I promise my kids aren't sitting around doing crossword puzzles and discussing literature all day. They play. And the phrase 'I'm bored' can get you manual labor in our house. And of course, they watch videos. I'm at the library a couple of times a week borrowing videos and dvds that I know are age appropriate. They watch a video at lunch and one afterschool. And sometimes at night now that our days are so long. This is a far cry from our San Antonio days, when entire Saturdays could be spent in front of the tv.

So that's our tv free story so far. I'm hoping to not sound preachy because I know we're all doing our best for our kids. But if anyone's ever thought of booting the tv out, I'll testify it's one one the best decisions we've made. And not just for the kids. Here's another link that lists what doctors think about tv and kids. I'm horrified at the idea that these television guys are targeting our infants. It's just a matter of time before "Embryo TV" is launched.

Neighbors, fences and poor immigration policies

2006-05-19T08:35:00.000-07:00

Let me frame this post by saying I'm a recovering republican, currently a libertarian. Libertarian beliefs, as I understand them, can be boiled down to three statements:

1. Big government is bad, bad, bad.
2. Big government is immoral, immoral, immoral.
3. The phrase "There ought to be a law" should be illegal.

Ok. There's more to it than this but for simplicity's sake I'll say that forced taxation on anyone in order to solve someone else's problems doesn't have a Constitutional or moral foundation. As my husband likes to say, "I can't come into your house and force you to give me part of your paycheck to buy my groceries or whatever. If I can't do it, why should the government be able to do it?"

Now, about immigration. I used to believe, back in my republican days, that illegal immigration was a major problem, something that required drastic measures. Like say, a long big wall to keep them out. I thought it was a major problem because I had a few other false beliefs. First, I believed illegal immigrants were a huge drain on our already bloated social service programs.
Second, I believed that entering the country illegally made you a criminally minded person. And goodness knows we don't need more criminals in the country.

This is where my whole thesis fell apart. As of 1996 immigrants are not eligible for any social services. Furthermore, immigrants are paying into these programs through their taxes. So they're paying into programs they are ineligible to benefit from.

And they're all criminals, right? The underlying assumption is that there must be a reasonable means for law abiding people to enter our country legally. I don't know much about the work visa process but I do know that millions of people aren't coming into our country to deal drugs. They are coming to work. They are working the backbreaking, labor intensive jobs we wouldn't let our native teenagers work. There is a reason they are coming here. And there is a need for their labor. How many middle class white, 16 year olds are scrambling to get the good grape picking jobs this summer? But the competition from illegal immigrants keeps the rest of our wages low, right? Not really. Of course there is a lot of evidence that supports the contrary opinion. So it's a matter of who you want to believe.

Illegal immigration is a tough, tough issue. It's heartbreaking to think of the thousands who have died on their journey here. I keep thinking, what would I have done? What if I were a Mexican mom with little prospects for work and fewer prospects for a good education for my kids? What if visas were only granted to people who had paying jobs waiting for them across the border? What would I do?

My personal experience in the immigration issue comes from my work at a elementary school on the southside of San Antonio. Our grade level had 3 english speaking classes and 1 spanish speaking class. These kids were from Mexico or their parents were from Mexico. Every holiday we would assign the kids a family art project to decorate our bulletin boards. Getting my kids to return their projects was like pulling teeth. Invariably, less than half of mine would bring their projects back. But down the hall it was a whole other story. All the spanish speaking children would bring their elaborately decorated projects back. All of them. and the projects were beautiful. What does this say about those parents? What does this say about the parents in my classroom?

So is this a massive case of xenophobia? Let's not forget that we were all immigrants. And at various times in American history we've decided we had too many ____________ and limited their entry into the country. Somehow I think that is what this might really be about. Too many Mexicans. And what does this have to do with the libertarian party? Libertarians say no government has the right to prohibit the entry or exit of law abiding individuals. Controversial, I know. But I see the logic. Who are we to say 'you don't belong here? '

Ok. That's the end of my first political post . Comments are welcome...as long as they're nice and friendly. :)

Mother said, 'Come what may, follow the path and never stray'.

2006-05-18T11:03:00.000-07:00

I get a call this morning from my husband. Mystery woman at his work is looking for prospective teachers at mystery private school. Would I like to interview?

The pay is X. X pay is Y more than the public school teaching salaries and X more than what I make right now.

Temptation. Money. Money to pay for my impending wisdom teeth extraction. Money to pay off debt. Money to buy plane tickets to visit home. It doesn't help that Will is whispering X amount of money in my ear as I speak to him on the phone. "No," I say. "We're committed. Gotta go." Click.

Temptation thwarted. But at what cost? So I try to remember why I'm homeschooling and why I would turn down the chance for X. Why am I doing this?

Because my son spent countless nights in tears too frustrated to do what amounted to busy work (work that I, too assigned to my kindergarten students). Because he got red "sad faces" on his behavior folder when he couldn't focus to get his work done. Because elementary schools don't teach world history. Because some schools prohibit recess, centers and naps for little ones because of test preparation. Because I experienced firsthand what happens when a curriculum company gets exclusivity in a school district, and the curriculum nazis are in and out of classrooms monitoring if teachers are following their script. Their script.

X would be nice. But I found a higher calling when I started homeschooling. And we're committed. But X would have been nice.

When you're good to mama, mama's good to you.

2006-05-16T22:21:00.000-07:00

So I signed up for a few mama blogs. I've been reading these blogs for a few days so I'm glad to add my name to their rosters.

Raising daughters and why I don't have any Bratz

2006-05-16T13:25:00.000-07:00

I have no contempt for any moms who don't have any problems with Bratz. And I let my girls play with the dolls at other people's homes. But I do think that there might be a link, somehow, between Girls Gone Wild, the rise of sexually transmitted diseases among teenagers , and the acceptability of letting our girls play with sexy dolls. Being a pro-life, libertarian Christian, I'm not a feminist by the contemporary understanding of the word. But I want my girls to grow up smart, confident and free-thinking enough to reject the idea of showing their boobs for a swig of beer and a free t-shirt. And I want my boy to reject any girl who thought showing her boobs to strangers was a good idea. So how do we do this when girls are playing with hookerfied dolls at the age of 5? I'm not sure...but with all the heated discussion generated by the Mommy Wars, I would love to see some more rhetoric about the kinds of kids we're raising, not just the means by which we're raising them. So here is a much more articulate article I came across that prompted me to write this whole anti-Bratz rant. And yes, my children can be brats with an 's' sometimes.

Take a little trip, take a little trip, take a little trip and see...

2006-05-16T08:23:00.000-07:00

So we took a little trip to Couer d'Alene and then to Spokane on Sunday. And to my great joy and astonishment a new Sonic is being built on Division St. in Spokane!!! I use exclamation marks to demonstrate the extreme happiness I felt when I saw the little nearly constructed drive in. Not to mention the large gasp of air I sucked in, prompting Will to conclude he must have hit a person or small animal, for me to be freaking out so much. There is not a Sonic in Sandpoint. And for a girl who used to use her teacher conference periods to drive to the Sonic for a large Dr. Pepper, this is nothing short of a miracle. San Antonio had a Sonic on every corner. No lie. Look it up here up if you want. I've been monitoring that freakin' website since we got to Idaho. And now my patience and diligence is being rewarded. At some point this summer I will get a large Dr. Pepper and a chili cheese hot dog and some tator tots. And this northern place will feel like home.

(See Will's blog on why this is not, in fact, a miracle).

Mommy's alright. Daddy's alright. They just seem a little weird.

2006-05-13T22:53:00.000-07:00

Happy Mother's Day to all the moms out there! Here's a picture of the reason I get to celebrate myself tomorrow morning. And if 'celebrate' just means I don't have to clean the kitchen, I am all up on that. And if 'celebrate' is really a code for 'undisturbed nap' then I am up on top of that doing a tap dance.

Here's my quick note on Mother's Day: for those of us still in the trenches of potty accidents, whininess and all round chaotic living conditions, I bet most of us would love to call the holiday "Mother's Day Off". We'd get to huddle in a quiet room with a book that doesn't feature an A.A. Milne character or talk to (not type towards) other grown ups face to face. We'd take our own bathroom breaks. We'd tell each other "What do you saaayyy?" when someone handed you something. You'd say, "Thank yooouuu." We'd enjoy our Mother's Day Off because really, c'mon, everyday is Mother's Day for a mom of young kids.

For those of you who have fought the good fight and are waiting for the phone call from your adult child, I salute you. This is your day to laugh at the young moms and reflect on how much you accomplished with your kids. And wonder how much time these young moms are actually spending on the computer and if Child Welfare services should be notified on behalf of the neglected children of mom bloggers everywhere.

I wouldn't mind Child Services coming if they could take my kids for just the afternoon. Then I'd need them back because my husband might make me go out and get a job.

Oh wait...I have a job. Happy Mothers Day!

My idea of a good time. And why I don't like Catcher in the Rye.

2006-05-11T12:48:00.000-07:00

I got this from Mental Multivitamin. You're supposed to boldface the books you've read, italicize those you might read, cross out the ones you won’t, put an asterisk beside the ones on your bookshelves, and place brackets around the ones you’ve never even heard of.

The Da Vinci Code (Dan Brown)
The Catcher in the Rye (J.D. Salinger)
The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (Douglas Adams)
The Great Gatsby (F. Scott Fitzgerald)
* To Kill a Mockingbird (Harper Lee)
The Time Traveler’s Wife (Audrey Niffenegger)
{His Dark Materials (Philip Pullman)}
* Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince (J. K. Rowling)
The Life of Pi (Yann Martel)
Animal Farm: A Fairy Story (George Orwell)
Catch 22 (Joseph Heller)
The Hobbit (J.R.R. Tolkien)
The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time (Mark Haddon)
Lord of the Flies (William Golding)
Pride and Prejudice (Jane Austen)
* 1984 (George Orwell)
* Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (J. K. Rowling)
{ One Hundred Years of Solitude (Gabriel Garcia Marquez)}
Memoirs of a Geisha (Arthur Golden)
The Kite Runner (Khaled Hosseini)
The Lovely Bones (Alice Sebold)
Slaughterhouse Five (Kurt Vonnegut)
{The Secret History (Donna Tartt)}
Wuthering Heights (Emily Bronte)
* The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (C.S. Lewis)
{Middlesex (Jeffrey Eugenides)}
{Cloud Atlas (David Mitchell)}
Jane Eyre (Charlotte Bronte)
{Atonement (Ian McEwan)}
[The Shadow of the Wind (Carlos Ruiz Zafon)]
The Old Man and the Sea (Ernest Hemingway)
The Handmaid’s Tale (Margaret Atwood)
The Bell Jar (Sylvia Plath)
Dune (Frank Herbert)
Sula (Toni Morrison)
Cold Mountain (Charles Frazier)
{The Alchemist (Paulo Coehlo)}
{White Teeth (Zadie Smith)}
The House of Mirth (Edith Wharton)

Ummm....I thought I was an avid reader until I looked at this list. And I don't own anything because I'm too cheap to actually buy a book...I just get everything from the library. But I am willing to try to read almost anything. But I won't finish everything. Like Catcher in the Rye...which in my opinion is the most overrated rubbish ever printed. I got halfway through and said, "If I wanted to read random adolescent incoherent thoughts I'd look up some college kids on Myspace." I didn't really say that...but that was my sentiment. I'm sure Catcher in the Rye is a completely amazing book and I just didn't get it. The entire global literary community can't be wrong, right?

I'm a great disciplinarian

2006-05-11T12:22:00.000-07:00

And this fine lady is my role model. Today I noticed how completely random I can be in my griping at the kids..."If you don't pick up those Barbies right now, they're going into the garage and you can't play with them ANYMORE!"

"Who made this mess???" As if anyone is going to confess. But I'm not done.

"WHO made this mess??? Clean this up or I'm going to _____"(insert random punishment here. And then a growl) If I keep this up I"m going to become an object of ridicule among my own children. And even before they're supposed to be ridiculing me. I can just see my 3 year old walking around with wire hangers threatening her giggling siblings. I need to relax before they start staging puppet shows satirizing their crazy mother.

Will's blog and why he's bloody brilliant

2006-05-09T09:22:00.000-07:00

I have a link to Will's blog. We debated including a link to his blog because he's soooo....unique on his thoughts. He's definately a far cry from our religious, conservative, southern roots. But here's what I have to say about Will: years ago he started telling me his ideas about Libertarianism and I thought he was crazy. Many of you might think he is crazy, also. Then, last fall, I read Ayn Rand's Atlas Shrugged. Will had not read this book yet but most of his ideas had already been articulated by this brilliant author. That's when I realized he's not crazy...he's just a free thinker. And he's really smart about this stuff. And I wouldn't have him any other way. So for family members who are shocked to see what he believes...you can be shocked but don't be too disapproving. He is still evolving in his theories and ideas, as we all should be. He just doesn't accept anything that he can't prove to himself. I'm not worried. He may come around yet. And someday Will and I will be the basis for a HI-larious odd couple type sitcom.

Cold cereal vs. warm pancakes moms

2006-05-09T09:00:00.000-07:00

I really want to be the mom who wakes at the crack of dawn and fixes the whole family fresh pancakes from scratch. Actually, I don't want to be that mom at all. I have a friend who had something like 4 dozen eggs in her refrigerator because she never does cold cereal for breakfast. Good for her. Not for me. And my kids like our generic Lucky Charms substitute. They like the mashmellows. And I like sitting at my computer for half an hour before we start our school day and the work begins. Every now and then I get ambitious and scramble some eggs. With my luck that will be the day the bird flu sneaks into the US and into my organic eggs. I don't want to wish the bird flu on my innocent kids. They like cold cereal.

The point of another blog

2006-05-08T18:10:00.000-07:00

I guess this is for me and my family. I don't have any cool skills or particular interests worth showcasing on the internet... and I don't think a blog about my family could be useful to anyone else but us. So Texas and North Carolina relatives will be able to watch the kids grow and keep up with us. And so I can keep a little online journal of our first years away from home. An online journal available for the entire world to see. The whole wide world. Realistically, though, I imagine that maybe dozens of people will see this. But for the sake of those dozens, I'll try to avoid the most mundane postings possible: pictures of the kids brushing their teeth, posts about new shoes, grocery lists, etc. It's hard though...there's a fine line between ridiculously trivial and the-most-important-thing-in-my-life-EVER. So I'll do my best to keep this simple and worth reading. We'll see how it goes.