There's a Test Tomorrow??? What??? I CAN'T HEAR YOU!!!

So here's the plan. Gather 'round everyone. Stand in a circle so their quarterback won't read our signals...

I tell the college that I am disabled somehow. Probably deaf as the fact that I drove there to sign up for classes yesterday was a dead giveaway that I can see.

So, I tell them that I am deaf and thus need to bring a translator with me to my one class that I am taking on campus: Algebra.

I then bring my son to every class with me.

My son that gets straight A's in everything.

Especially math.

The benefits will be twofold: I won't have to answer any questions in class because I will be sure to lay the gutteral utterances on especially thick, and I will have a human powered calculator sitting next to me who will not only be able to answer my questions RIGHT NOW but who will also be able to load up the blow gun and shoot me in the jugular with curare if I get too out of hand.

So, if you think this is a good idea, make sure to start talking to me in a most animated way, gesture a lot, and play it reeeeaaaaaallll cool.

I'm thinking I'd better brush up on my sign language though. The only communication I know how to do with my hands involves the middle finger and I'm thinking I shouldn't flash that on the first night of class.

Talking The Talk

I made it through Monday. We'll see about today. I like to believe that anything can happen, which includes being kidnapped by aliens.

Oy vey. I've been up since 2 a.m. Synapses are misfiring...

New job has nice people but bad coffee. Hmmmm. Perhaps when I get into the swing of things, I'll bring my own thermos.

I'm going to check in with the college folks today and figure out the classes to take. It will be another three weeks or so before I can sign up since I'm a new person and new people get the lowest priority on choosing classes. Underwater basketweaving, here I come!

I've actually sat down and mapped out all the classes I need/want to take before moving on to a university setting. I guess the only reason I'm going in today is to confirm my choices and get a few questions answered.

Now, my puzzlement begins when it comes to talking to someone at the fine institution that I want to continue at. I have called them four times and dropped three emails. No response.

My next tactic is to send them an email and say that I have 8.9 million dollars to donate to their institution and see how many minutes it takes for them to get back with me. Then I'll get to say "Well, ACTUALLY, I just want to TALK TO SOMEONE."

I had a couple of occasions yesterday at work to tell my quick bio. Talked about kids. Talked about pets. Talked about school. When people responded to my story with "Well, I'm divorced..." I just smiled and shook my head yes. Interesting...very interesting...

I am the Virgin Mary and my children were products of immaculate conception and we live in a barn on the outskirts of Duluth. You know, the one with the perpetual star over head?

I also kept pretty mum when it came to "So, what are you doing for Thanksgiving?" Everyone is going to the relatives and cooking a five ton bird.

"I'm going to eat too much and fall asleep in front of the television," was my reply. In other words, nothing out of the ordinary at all.

When the IT guy checked in with me as to what my email address should be (officially, I'm using that damn hyphenated name for legal reasons), I gave him my bestest brightest shiney eyed psycho smile and said "Never use the S-name. I don't like the S-name."

Yup. I think I'm fitting in just fine!

Not Impressed

Just a little subliminal message from the school district in Never Never Land where my daughter now goes:

Welcome to your class called "Family Life". This is in conjunction with our "Abstinence Only" curriculum...

See this square peg? This is you. We will pound down your edges to make you fit into the mold that we find acceptable. We will deny statistics. We will click our heels together and say that we ALL live in a perfect world. Since teenagers don't HAVE sex, we don't need to discuss birth control. We just need to make sure that they realize that they will burn in hell if they even think about the opposite sex and call that good. (But for god's sake, don't think about the same sex because that is CERTAINLY a one way trip to the eternal furnace of damnation.)

And mommies and daddies always stay together. It is the way that it is SUPPOSED to be. No matter what...mommies need to realize that it is in the best interest if the children to stay together. It is called sacrifice. Women must sacrifice everything for the daddy because the daddy is in charge.

And daddies always love their children. They never hurt their children. They don't call them stupid. They don't beat them with belts. They don't grab them by the shoulders and slam them against the wall. And daddies never, never come into your bedroom in the middle of the night.

See? Everything in Never Never Land is perfect. And that's what we're going to learn about in class today children...all about the perfect families that you should have but undoubtedly, none of you do.

We're all about self esteem building here. Are you feeling good about yourself yet?

Flaming Neural Pathways

Ever had one of those early evenings when you were alone and verrrrry tired and as hard as you tried, you just couldn't attain the absolute historic orgasm that PBS was trying to sell you?

Seriously, I love me some PBS. It is mainly what I watch on tv but I cannot wrap my head around this show. It appears to be an American version of a British show and last night they were digging up Jamestown and then they must have had a British episode and they were digging up the grounds of Buckingham Palace.

That's all well and fine but these folks are entirely too excited. Knowing a smidge about how many takes a director will do of a particular scene, I can't imagine keeping up that level of pre-coital energy over a frickin shard of pottery.

Maybe that's why I fell asleep.

Hey, they could advertise their show as curing insomnia! It could even be marketed on the evening news with Brian Williams as the only "natural" drug advertised in the 5,000 pharmaceutical ads that they manage to squeeze into a 30 minute broadcast.

Seriously, I'm waiting for someone to point out the obvious fact in this deteriorating healthcare debate that the evening news is sponsored by big pharma and watched by the very grannies that Rush Limbaugh says Barack is going to pull the plug on.

AND THEY VOTE PEOPLE...

Where was I before this post spiraled right up my own ass?

Oh yeah! I was feeling suspiciously unwell...11.5 hours of sleep later and now I actually feel like a human being. Of course, that state is augmented by the eight cups of coffee I've consumed in the past 30 minutes. I don't know what I've got going on but swollen lymph nodes and a slight fever have me worried that if I go into the doctor's office, there will be a posse of elderly people with poisonous blow darts, ready to take me down.

For I am among the 40 million uninsured, grandma...unlike you I don't qualify for any governmental program simply because I've existed on this planet for many many decades.

Don't want government run health insurance? Oh ok! Let's take away all those health benefits that you've got already through Uncle Sam...

Oh my...I seem to be going there...The healthcare debate that I can't listen to for more than two minutes without wanting to pull out a dirty syringe and go on a poking rampage...Don't look me in the eye...I might feel cornered and spring on you when you least expect it.

Let's change this subject. It's getting fussy and I think its wet itself.

If there has been progress nowhere else in my life, two things are looking up: I know what I want to do interior decorating wise someday...when I have money...AND I received enough financial aid to start school in January.

The interior decorating thing...it is a BIG thing that I finally have a vision in my head. I believe I have stated this before but THAT part of my brain doesn't work. I love to go into other people's houses where they are all smart and classy and have their decorative shit together. I'm sort of like the boy that escapes the bubble...I go around touching things like walls and baseboards and being AMAZED at things like texture and color. Then I go home and my brain starts making those sparking sounds and my eyes cross and there is a distinct smell of burning wires.

And then I forget.

When I get back from vacation, I will start the final purging of S.H.I.T.

And then the painting will begin.

I have three years to pull it all together.

Painting...schooling...decorating.

And once I get this place all happy and beautiful, I will leave it behind.

And start all over again.

Do you smell something burning????

Adventure and Loss

Things are gathering steam here at Castle Disaster (Just down the road from Castle Danger).

Five days until Ms. H is off on her big adventure.

We're living in parallel lives. She's going through all her possessions and deciding which to pack, which to give away, and which to store. The house looks like it was cleaned by the Tasmanian Devil.

It's an adventure. There are times when I try to touch on subjects such as "it's really going to be hard going to a big school where you don't know anyone" or "you know how you hate fake, plastic, materialistic people? You are about to enter the land where it all began."

And I get the "yeah mom, I know..." pat phrase.

And I try to hide my part of this equation. I have learned over the past eight months that nothing good comes from hiding ones feelings but there are times when a good thing is about to happen and you know it is a good thing. You can feel it from the bottom of your broken heart.

That's when you set your baggage aside and let the good thing happen.

Then you wait until you're alone.

And you rename the adventure for your own story.

You call it loss.

It is easy to be brave in the face of anger. It is easy to stand up against what is wrong and say "no more".

It is oh so hard to be brave in the face of love.

School Time

School starts on Wednesday! I know that some parents get all excited about school starting because finally! Those damn termite-like cocoa puff eatin' midgets will finally get out of their house!

Well, perhaps I over exaggerate.

I've never felt burdened by my kids during summer but this fall is special because my youngest will be starting high school.

My daughter is going to be a sophmore this year and as far as personalities are concerned, hers demands a lot of attention. I don't mean that in a bad way, she just has an enormous presence in any room that she enters. She's smart and funny and creative and she casts an awfully big shadow.

It's funny how one family can have two kids that are such opposites. Many of my daughter's activities draw my son in but when she's not around, he's happy to entertain himself by writing computer game programs or reading large books on how the brain works. He does not move with her ease in social situations but he is meditative, kind, and incredibly intelligent.

Ahh yes, the intelligence stuff...many years ago a teacher told us to have him tested to see if he was gifted, not because she liked standardized tests but as she so rightly informed us, noone will believe you unless you can waive a piece of paper under their nose.

And she was right.
We began kindergarten by telling his teacher that he needed more challenges.
We began first grade by telling his teacher that he needed more challenges.
We began second grade by telling his teacher that he needed more challenges.

Third grade was started at a new school and we held back with telling them anything right off the bat. A few weeks into school, his teacher called me up and told me he needed more challenges. I think I wept for joy that day.

Since I tell my kids to always do extra credit, he would often end up a school year with over 100% in his math class and close to that in science and English. By the time eighth grade was over, he was so ready for a real challenge.

That's why I'm excited for school this year. We've met with his advisor and they are totally committed to letting him go as far as he possibly can. What they can't provide, a local college can.

He'll also have access to tech teachers that are excited to teach computer programming and get the kids inspired.

When you have an artistically creative kid, it's easy to find programs out there to take their creativity to the next level but when you have an academically creative kid, many teachers are simply pleased to have their warm body increasing the standardized test scores in their classroom. I hope this isn't the case at his high school.