Sunday, August 27, 2006

He's a genius.

This evening Ross and I had the honor of watching our dear friend Remus eat solid foods for the first time. While we dined on delicious meatloaf (which you never really *pick* to eat but it always hits the spot) and mashed yams, Remus rested in the other room to ready his small self for the excitement.

We took turns feeding him rice mush and mushy squash. We all declared him advanced when he insisted on holding the spoon himself and when he would push it back towards the bowl once the spoon was empty. Needless to say, it was super cute.

Thanks to Jenny and Mark for letting us be part of this momentous occassion-I had *so* much fun. And, I'm not gonna lie, I got a little drunk, which is always nice to do on your last night of summer vacation.

Friday, August 25, 2006

"Comic Sues Jews for Jesus"

This headline had me puzzled. Before reading the article, I thought it was saying that a comic was taking it upon himself to sue all of the Jews *for* Jesus. And then I realized that I was an idiot.

Something I said today that was awesome.

"Shit, I still need to make the communion bread."

I'm sure Jesus appreciated that one.

Stupid Chemical Imbalance.

I spent most of today in bed. I didn't sleep last night because I spent most of yesterday in bed as well. We'll see how it goes tonight.

My diagnosis with an anxiety disorder was essentially a diagnosis of depression. It's by no means debilitating, but occasionally (typically with the onset of every girl's most favorite time of the month) it seems that even medication cannot battle the wicked drops in seratonin that I experience.

As these drops occur, every part of my life that I'm stressed about or sad about comes rushing to the forefront of my brain, sending me into a mope that would put even the most emo of teenagers to shame. I am currently fighting one of those mopes, so don't expect anything funny. A kind word or two would help, though.

Tuesday, August 22, 2006

To ink?

I want a tattoo really bad. Like really bad. And it's not just cause I watch Miami Ink. I want dogwood blossoms around what looks like a stamp that says "Made in Richmond, VA." I thought it would be funny to get "Made in Richmond, VA" tattooed on the bottom of my foot, so I'd be like a Barbie doll, but I know it would rub off. Too bad we're too poor for such a treat. Maybe one day.

Monday, August 21, 2006


I was watching One Week to Save Your Marriage this evening, because it's one of those shows that makes me feel great about my relationship *and* my ability to just, well, not be a jerk to the people I love. Anyway, the premise of this show is pretty self explanatory. This counselor provides intense therapy for couples on the brink of divorce, in efforts to get them back on track, all in one week. This week's couple was Erin and, well, I can't remember the husband's name because I was too enraged by the insanity/ridiculousness of his baby-talking, passive aggressive wife. Erin's main complaint was that Husband was never romantic. I mean, it was pretty obvious to me why he wasn't romantic. Who would want to snuggle up with the Pouty McIceQueen every night? Anyway, her infuriatingly vague yet screeching demands for romance got me thinking.

Ross and I have been married for three years. We were together for a total of 5 years before that, including a brief break. I like to call it "Ross's 11 months of Insanity," but we'll just call it a break. Anyway, even by the time we were married, we were kind of over the romance part of things. The flowers, sweet emails, and butterflies in the stomach (although they still make their appearances every now and then) gave way to solidarity, sacrifice, trust, and deep love and committment, all of which require much more thought and dedication than a romantic evening ever would.

I think this fade of romance applies to all relationships you have, too. For example, when you make a new friend, someone that you really connect with, you make much more of an effort to ensure a really good time when you hang out. You want to have deep, revealing conversations with each other, and you tend to think about that person a lot. It's a lot like having a crush, or just starting a relationship. But, eventually, that excitement is replaced by what comes with really knowing someone. You begin to cherish the silences when you are just together, silences that would have sent you into a panic before. Just knowing what is going on in each other's lives and being supportive to one another becomes more important than being considered the "fun" or "smart" friend. For example, I loved knowing that after an unusually long separation from one another, the first thing Maura and I wanted to do was just hug each other. That's it. Our only plan was to hug, not have some super, fancy girl's day out. Not that we would be against it, but it's just not important.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying romance is bad, despite what the title of this post suggests. I just don't see what the fuss is all about. Maybe people have the wrong idea about what is romantic. If Ross ever showed up with flowers and whisked me off to a fancy dinner, I'd be pleased, but I probably would be wondering what was wrong, what news needed to be presented on such a fancy platter. To me, romance is giving of yourself, your energy, and your time. The most romantic thing that Ross does is get up in the middle of the night to put Shooter in his crate once the pup starts pacing around the room. He knows I have trouble getting back to sleep, so he takes care of it.

That's not just romance; to me, that's love.

People are too scared to talk to strangers, I guess.

Today I made my way to J. Sarg. to get myself a student ID and parking pass. If you've never been to the Parham campus, the whole school consists of two buildings and some trailers. As I was standing in a line* that was nothing compared to the lines I was used to at UR but was apparently "ridiculous" according to the full time students, people were gathering around classrooms waiting for the next sessions to start. Directly to my left was a classroom that was locked. By the time I had gotten there, 5 people were sitting outside the door. They all knew the door was locked. And yet, everytime a new person came up, he or she would glance at the people waiting and go up and try the door. Never once did any of the people who already knew the door was locked say anything to their classmates. NOT ONCE. I watched this scene for 30 minutes. Of course, I could have said something**, but it was more interesting to watch how much these people did *not* want to talk to each other.

*Just as I left the ID services room, with parking pass and ID in hand, there was fire drill. All of the people in line had to leave the building and then get back in line once allowed back in the building. It was awesome.

**I was also too busy to talk to these people because I was chatting it up with my new friend Tina and her son, Mike, who is a junior in high school. Mike is obviously gay and his mother obviously has no idea. I didn't want to tell her that because she was nice enough to let me borrow her pen. I used the pen to fill out my car registration form, rather than to burst her bubble.

Saturday, August 19, 2006

Stream of Consciousness a la Britney Spears

Shooter loves loves loves the smell of anything distributed by Mary Kay. He will rip himself from a sound sleep to stick his nose on my face and just breathe in the luxury.

I really need someone to go under my house again. We need to put a concrete block under one of our beams so it's not resting on the ground. If you do this, you can have our first born.

I bought a notebook for my class today. I really can't wait to write my name on the cover, but I'm trying to restrain myself.

The fact that I now have a printer makes me feel free and powerful.

They say you're either a Beatles person or an Elvis person. I am an Elvis person by nature, a Beatles person by assimilation.

Have you seen Justin Timberlake's new video for "SexyBack"? Oh my gawwwwwwd. Mmmm.

I hate mushrooms. THEY ARE A FUNGUS. Why don't you just go lick the toes of someone with athlete's foot?

Good night and good luck.

Don't come to my parties. I make you eat weird things.

So today was Robin's bridal shower. We had a fiesta in honor of her honeymoon in Mexico. There was lots of food and drink, and even some gross Mexican "candy." In leu of the typical shower games, I decided to have a battle of wills, to see who could last the longest with a pickled Chinese plum in their mouth. The plums are pickled, obviously, covered in salt, and are an odd shade of green. These plums are a popular snack with little kids in Mexico, and contain over 9,000 mg of salt per plum. It was a strong showing from all, but Theresa won in the end, lasting a full 15 minutes. She's a dark horse, that one. Everyone else spent the rest of the afternoon guzzling water and showing of their new Martian tongues (I never know how to spell that).

Robin got some good loot and I got many suggestions to start a career in party planning. I now have enough salsa to last the rest of my life, and will never have to buy paper plates or napkins again. Also, if I see a buritto ever again before I die, it will be too soon. Regardless, it was fun and I'd do it again, because she's my sister and she deserved a nice day just for her.

Happy Wedding, Sister! Today was the start of all of the festivities to come! I don't know if I can handle planning your bachelorette party, though. I might be too wholesome for that. But, I mean, I'll come. And drink. And dance. And drink.

Thursday, August 17, 2006

So proud.

Ross went to the dentist for the first time in about 4 years. He had no cavities and was told to keep up the good work. A dentist visit was touchy area for us for a long time. I wanted him to go. He wouldn't. But now he has and I'm so proud.

Wednesday, August 16, 2006

This is a test

to prove to Ross that my laptop is crazy and loves to randomly pop up some search, "find" as it calls itself, whenever it wants. Of course, it's not happening when he looks.

Monday, August 14, 2006

Good news for all...

The tomatoes being put on the club sandwiches at Joe's ARE AMAZING. They are sweet like candy. I've had two sandwiches there in the last 3 days. AND I have a lunch date tomorrow. Ohhhhh, just to think about it.

Rock the Cradle of Love

There's no other reason for that title than that I've got the song in my head.

I think I may have a summer cold coming on. Or I just need to clean up all the dust in my house. It's probably the latter.

I got my $0.99 jeans today and I must say, I am a satisfied customer. They are already broken in for me which is awesome. It's weird though because they are the same type of jean, same size, but one pair is longer than the other. Not a problem, just weird. I know have a bid on some khaki pants on ebay. We'll see how that works out. Pretty soon I'll be buying groceries off of there.

So, we sold Ross's car. RIP Honda Civic Si. But now we get to pay off my car, have some left over, and not have a car payment every month anymore. Having one car is working out fine now, but we haven't had a rainy day yet. We shall see.

I sat on, I mean *for* Remus today. We played on the floor, practiced his sitting up skills, he chewed on his hand a lot because he finally cut his first tooth, and we danced around a lot. Then he started screaming, I fed him, and he passed out. I'm going to start calling myself "The Baby Whisperer."

I'm starting to hate the children who live next door to me. They yell and scream all day long. All. Day. Long. And they lose their dog all the time and are constantly calling her name. From this post you all know that I don't like it when such things happen. The worst part is, her name is "Mocha Cappuccino Jones." Seriously. And they call her entire name when she runs off, I guess so she won't get confused, what with all of the other Mocha Cappuccinos out there. I don't know how to spell Cappuccino. Fortunately I *can* spell Mocha and Jones.

I get to see my good friend Abby from UR tomorrow. She and her fiance are in town. I love love love Abby, but haven't seen her since my wedding. She was the only English major who I didn't want to punch in the face. As an English major myself, I wanted to punch myself in the face, because I was a really lousy/dumb/lazy/Cliff's notes reading English major (to clarfiy: I read the Cliff's notes because I didn't read the books, not because I didn't understand things. I'm *sure* I would have completely have grasped any and all material, because, after all, I was an English major). Anyway, Abby is crazy smart but not the kind of smart where she's a jerk. I'm very excited to see her.

Ok, time to go what a movie with my husband.


Sunday, August 13, 2006

What did you like best?

I watched the beginning of City of Angels today (Nicolas Cage at his most attractive, I think, and Meg Ryan pre-collagen). I just saw the part where as Seth is taking the little girl to heaven, he asks her what she liked best. She said pajamas with feet.

What would you say you liked best?

Friday, August 11, 2006

Status: Thrifty

I just got two pairs of jeans off of ebay for $0.99 each. The shipping is $6.95 each, bringing to just over $13.00. For jeans that are normally $58.00, I think that's pretty damn good. AND I woke up to 6 emails from people wanting to buy Ross's car. I'm going to have MILLIONS, I tell you, MILLIONS!

Thursday, August 10, 2006

And you thought painter's tape was good for one thing.

Back to School

I have to go back to the school where I work on the 28th. We have a new Assistant Principal. She's actually the LD teacher for the 5th grade kids the whole time I've been there, so I know her really well. I'm super excited for her and for the kids because she's awesome.

I go back to *school* starting the week of the 21st. Recertification time is coming up. I was going to take a workshop this summer to get my credits out of the way, but the timeline for registration and me getting reimbursed for it got screwed up, so that idea was out. So, I'll be taking a class at J. Sargeant Reynolds on Oceanography. I can take this because I teach Science. The lecture is every Thursday night, and there's online stuff, too. I haven't been to school in a while, so we'll see how I do. I've already started getting excited about getting to take notes, because I'm a loser. And I want to know how I'm supposed to get my books. Do they have books there? What if I don't want to read the books? I'm sure everything will be on the Internet anyway.

Here's to more pencils, more books, and lots and lots of teachers' dirty looks. From me, not at me.

Wednesday, August 09, 2006

Sassy lady

Setting: Bejamin Franklin Craft Store, Richmond VA. Early afternoon.

Sassy lady: (yelling across three checkout lanes) Are those your eyelashes?!?!?

Me: Me?

Sassy lady: Yes, you. Are those your eyelashes?

Me: Yes.

Sassy lady: Dammit. (walks out of the door in a huff, shaking her head)

Me: (blink. blink.)


Thank you, Sassy lady?

Tuesday, August 08, 2006


Didn't shower.

Sat on a baby. Not really. Rolled around on the floor with a baby.

Had my sister come to visit me on *her* birthday.

Had a wicked headache.

Skipped Bible study to nap.

Woke up from nap choking on my own spit.

Was thankful for gag reflex.

Texted Ross to find out where he and my dinner were.

Ate my dinner.

Talked to Ross on IM from down the hall.

Wondered if Lauren from Laguna Beach was mad that Kristin's (her rival for Stephen's affections on the first season) recent break up was higher up on the "Latest News" column AND included a picture, while hers was a few lines down and only text.

Goodnight, friends.

A campaign for Anna

The following is an email from my good friend from UR, Anna. She calls herself "Fat Anna." Fat Anna lives in Reno which is far too far away. I often tell people that Anna is the funniest person I know. Now I have proof. Please read the email below and then comment on how she should have a blog so her humor can be shared with all.

So, if I was Dave Barry, I would have an excellent topic to write an article on right dog. I have two dogs, actually. They have an unbelievable ability to entertain me. And by entertain, I mean cause me to want to return them to the pound where they came from. No, not really. I love them like they are my children but Spider came close to roaming the desert of Northern Nevada, looking for a herd of wild springer spaniels to join the other day.

I am an excellent dog owner. If I don't provide opportunity for my dogs to get ample exercise each and every day, I am riddled with guilt. We have a backyard where they can run around but that is not good enough. Not for a dedicated pet owner such as myself. Oh no. We must go to the dog park in order for me to have a clear head and feel as though I will not be arrested by animal control for abusing my animals. Perhaps I should seek help...

The dog park here in Reno is nothing short of amazing. It's about the size of 4 football fields and if you don't obey the laws, there are many trails you can hike on with the dogs off the leash. So, this is where we go on a regular basis to get our exercise. Now the idea behind the park is that other people also bring their dogs and maybe you walk around for a little while but in the end, the dogs exercise each other by chasing each other around at top speed for hours on end.

Ralph gets this idea. He is a champion at finding a dog who is as dopey as he and will run in circles, chasing him around and around, until they actually fall over from diziness. He runs and drools and falls down and all I have to do is stand there and feel really good that I am providing such a nice opportunity for my dog.

Spider, however, is different. He does not play. He does not run. He does not jump. He does nothing but sniff a butt or two if a butt or two happens to pass by his nose. He does not go out of his way even to sniff a butt. Oh no. When Spider goes to the dog park, he sits. He sits completely still and watches. He watches the other dogs run around. Now, if the other dogs happen to get close to him and appear to be having fun, this is when Spider leaps into action. At this point, he stands and barks wildly at these filthy beasts who dare come near him and disturb his sitting.

So, you can see how this poses a problem for me. I devote over an hour of everyday trying to ensure that my dogs get the exercise they need but simply taking Spider to the dog park does not ensure this. No no. More is required. So, when we get to the dog park, we must go on a lengthy walk so that Spider is forced to exercise. Please note that this requires me to also exercise because if I'm not moving, Spider is not moving.

So, we walk. During these walks, Spider actually emulates a real dog by running up ahead with Ralph and pretending to enjoy himself. They stick their heads in bushes (there are no bushes in Nevada, only sagebrush) and roll in any and all poop they happen to come across. It's nice. I used to think that rolling in poop was pretty much the worst trouble they could get into at the dog park. I was wrong.

One day last week, we were walking along and the dogs were showing a particular interest in some sagebrush along the path. I ignored them and continued to walk along. When they didn't follow, I turned to see what they were doing. Turns out, Ralph had caught a mouse. Well, I told him "RALPHIE, OUT!" and wouldn't you know, he dropped it!

Well, I hadn't thought far enough ahead because as soon as Ralph dropped it, Spider snatched it up. As I outlined earlier, Spider is a different sort of dog. I, of course, at this point shouted "SPIDER, OUT!" which caused Spider to "run" in the opposite direction, with the mouse in his mouth (I put run in quotations because Spider is the only dog I've ever met that I can actually run faster than).

So, Spider "ran" about 12 steps in the opposite direction and then got tired so he turned and began to walk back towards me. I grabbed him by the neck and tried to convince him to drop the mouse by shaking his head. This did not work. I twisted his head to the point where it almost popped off, still he held onto the mouse. (The mouse was quite dead by this point, so don't worry). I grabbed his jaw and tried to pry it open. Spider gave me the look like "you can puncture my teeth through my lips and I'm not dropping this mouse".

I didn't know what to do so we continued on our walk. It was pretty hot out so I figured that if we walked for long enough, Spider would have to drop the mouse in order to open his mouth to pant. Turns out, Spider's will is strong than the need to pant. So we walked, and walked, and walked...

Still the mouse hung out of Spider's mouth, dangling there, swinging back and forth...

At several points during the rest of our walk, I attempted to convince Spider to drop the mouse. I did the head twisting, the shaking, the jaw grabbing. I talked nicely to him. I yelled at him. He didn't give a crap.

I was running out of ideas, it was getting dark and I wanted to go home. My final idea was to bring Spider near the other dogs and maybe one of them could convince him to drop the mouse. Of course, going near the other dogs means going near their owners as well. So up we walk, mouse swinging in the breeze and people looking at me like I'm some kind of freak who allows their dog to not only catch mice but then keep them as a toy.

One lady took pity on me and tried to help me get it away from him. She offers him water. He sits down. The sight of the mouse at this point, is not worth mentioning because it will cause you to throw up on your computer screen as you read this. I know this because myself and this other woman were literally gagging as we tried to get the mouse away from Spider. I was pretty sure that I was going throw up right there at the dog park. That didn't happen though because right then, a dog came up to Spider, sniffed the mouse and Spider, to show that dog who was boss, swallowed the mouse. Yup, he just gulped down the entire mouse. And that ended that.

I think for my next pet I'll get a goldfish.

Stolen from James Lipton and Kristin over at DoubleVision (ps love your blog)

1. What is your favorite word?

2. What is your least favorite word?
Specific (because a lot of people can't say it)

3. What turns you on creatively?

4. What turns you off?
People who cannot handle change

5. What is your favorite curse word?

6. What sound or noise do you love?
My dogs singing with passing fire engines

7. What sound or noise do you hate?
Any noise that is repeated over and over again

8. What profession other than your own would you like to attempt?
Nurse or midwife

9. What profession would you not like to do?
Factory worker

10. If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates?
I understand.

Happy Birthday, Sister/Friend.

Twenty-seven years ago today, my sister Robin was born. She was named by my brother who insisted she either be named Minnie Mouse, Robin (for Batman's sidekick), or she would have to be put back. In a rare moment of flexibility, my mother gave in and they went with Robin. Nicole, her middle name, came from a character from The Young and the Restless. (I would later be named for the actress who played Rhoda on The Mary Tyler Moore Show-my mother apparently LOVED TV while gestating).

Robin came 4 years after my brother, and 2 years before me, making her not only the middle child when I arrived, but also placing her in the thrashing fits of the terrible twos when I arrived. Fortunately for me, she was not yet able to act out *too* much while I was an infant, allowing me some time to develop my own defenses before the subsequent sibling battles began.

I could tell you about the time she threw a rock at my head. Or about how she used the magic of friction to get the tips of ballpoint pens really hot and then touch me with them (she was quite resourceful). Or about how she and my brother held me captive on the screen porch when I was six, *forcing* me to bust through the expensive and newly installed screen to freedom (they got in trouble for that). Or about how I kicked a hole in her door (she got in trouble for that). Or about how my mom really thought we might kill each other one day, what with the screaming, smacking, pushing, kicking, and more screaming that came with our closely blossoming adolescence and the fact that we went to the same high school together all day and THEN had to go home and actually live with each other. But I won't.

Instead, I'd like to tell you what I love about my sister. I love how much we love each other now. I love that we don't have sh*t to sort out; the way we treated each other can just be chalked up to brattiness from both sides and we move on. I love that she has a job that most people are too scared to have. I love that we don't have to talk in order to know what we are thinking. I love that we share a brother. I love how she has stepped into the role as Ross's sister with open arms. I love that my children will have her as an aunt. I love that she chose Matt to be in our family. I love her voice-speaking and singing. I can still pick her voice out in a crowd, whether she be on stage or in a group of people. It's not that she's loud, I think I'm just programmed to know where she is at all times. Her voice is one I've been hearing all of my life and one that I will luckily spend most of my life continuing to hear.

I just love her because we're sisters. She's my only sister, and I'm her only sister. We were born being special to each other. And it's a blessing.

Love you, Sister. I couldn't ask for a better one and I'm so proud of you. Have a wonderful birthday!

Monday, August 07, 2006

I turn my boredom into home improvement.

I start to go crazy around the end of July. As Ross and Stephanie know, a lot of times that craziness turns into taking on very courageous organization tasks or projects. This summer has proved to be no different. A couple weeks ago I redid the bathroom. I scraped wallpaper, patched holes, painted, removed flooring, and laid new tile. I also designed, constructed, and installed a mirror.

Apparently that wasn't enough. Early last Thursday morning (at like 3:00am) I decided to paint the downstairs hallway. I didn't have the paint at the time, but I did have painter's tape. Poor Ross woke up to blue lines on the wall that weren't there when he went to bed. I painted the hallway that day, and I must say, it looks awesome.

Tomorrow I will do some painting in our bedroom. We have some cracks in the plaster on the fireplace due to some old water damage, so I'll be spackling and covering that up with some nice accent color.

Later in the week I think I will take some Killz and cover up the water spots that Tropical Storm Gaston left on our ceiling.

I want Ross and my father-in-law to tile the hallway as my birthday present.

Anyway, yeah, if you haven't seen all of the changes, you should come take a look. It's looking pretty good.

School needs to start. Now.

Sunday, August 06, 2006

Super Sunday of Satisfaction and Sloth!!!

Ross and I had a very good day today. After a wicked fight over whether to go to Fredericksburg to see Matt and Maura (I wanted to go, he didn't, even though they said they'd make him a pie), we decided to mend fences by spending some time together. We spent the first part of the day with Ross is the wonderful but elusive mood of "Let's say yes to everything that Valerie wants to do." So, we went to Perly's for lunch. Then we went to Diversity Thrift to look for stuff for Ross's office and to also gawk at some of the things on sale there (pictures to come later, hopefully). Then came the best part. I suggested we go to the SPCA to look at the dogs, AND HE SAID YES! So we went in, pet the baby puppies who were all stilled drugged from being fixed I think, and then went in the back room to look at all of the big puppies. We say two real German Shepherds names Zeus and Aries who were amazing, as well as many other cute dogs.

After that, we came home, Ross watched Star Trek: The Original Series while I took a nap on the couch. Then we ate Oreos and watched TV in bed with our wonderful pooches. It was a very nice day and I would say it made up for the disagreement that started the day. See, husbands, in order to counteract disappointment, all you have to do is give into every *other* whim of your wife, then all is forgotten. And I think I'm pretty low maintenance if all I want to do is eat some food, look at old furniture, and visit puppies.

Saturday, August 05, 2006

Southern hospitality at its finest.

I made a quick trip into Kroger this evening to buy the essentials, i.e. Oreos, tortillas, Coke Zero, milk, bread, and ham. Apparently Kroger is *the* place to be on Saturday night. It was crazy busy, but, I guess since it was Saturday night and anyone who goes to Kroger on Saturday probably doesn't have a jammed-packed calendar, everyone was very laid back and moving lazily throughout the aisles. In fact, there were several times when people met at the intersection of aisles and kept insisting on letting other people go in front of them, just like at 4 way stops. Everyone is too busy being polite that no one moves at all.

Once I got to the check out line, I was sure the leisurely feeling would go away, as they only had two lanes open at the time. A gentleman got in line behind me, merely noted (did not complain) about the few checkout lanes, and went on to praise the Lord that the heat had finally calmed down a bit. As our conversation faded, they opened a new line, unbeknownst to me (honestly, I was too busy squinting at the cover of US Weekly a few feet in front of me to notice). The gentleman behind me made his way to the new line, asked the check girl to hold on a minute, then touched me gently on the elbow to let me know another line had opened, saying "Come on, friend." For real, he called me friend. Then, HE LET ME GO IN FRONT OF HIM. I even had like a million more things in my cart than him, and he still let me cut in front.

After thanking him for the tenth time, I headed out to the parking lot where I saw what one could call the icing on the cake. A young Kroger employee was pushing an ungodly number of carts back into the store, but trailing behind him was some random guy helping him load in a few carts that the employee couldn't fit in his row. The guy didn't even work there and was helping him out. It made me really happy.

Moral of the story, go to Kroger, let people cut in front of you, and when you see someone who needs a little help, give it to them. And call them "Friend" when you do it.

Friday, August 04, 2006

Should I be mad?

I encouraged Ross to watch this video of Britney Spears today so he could laugh at how ridiculous she is. While watching it he said, "Valerie (and he's serious when he says my name), you have no right to make fun of this woman. If I posted a video of some of the things you say and do when it's just the two of us, people would think you're an idiot, too." And all this time I thought he felt priveleged to be the only one who got to see my retarded (yeah, I know I shouldn't say that, but I did) side.

Wednesday, August 02, 2006

Passing out peaches

Today I bought a bag of Ukrop's Peaches. If you are from Richmond, you understand that a Ukrop's peach is the best answer to the sweltering August heat. I bought a total of 4, planning on having one with lunch and then putting the rest out at Potluck tonight. However, as my day progressed, the peaches had to go everywhere with me because my travels kepts me from getting home for a while.

When I picked up Brandon, they came into the Visual Arts Center with me. I was a little early so I took a seat on the couch. A lady came and sat next to me, drenched from the 30 second walk from the parking lot. I offered her a peach and she looked at me as if I had given her the promise for eternal youth. So, she and I chatted and each had a peach.

I offered Brandon one, but he had bought Life Savers from the vending machine. After taking him home, I had to drop something of at my mom's office. The peaches (-2) came into her office with me. I offered her one, and she squealed with delight. Like for real. She and I then made our way out to her car (with the peaches, now -3) to transfer various objects from my car to hers. Meanwhile, a lovely young man named Charlie had stopped by her work to fix a crack in her windshield (who knew people did that, btw?). We chatted with him as he put in the new windshield. Seeing that his T-shirt was soaking wet, obviously from hours of being out in the 100+ degree all day, I offered him the last peach. He would only take it on the condition that I swear, with my hand to the sky, that it was a sweet peach, otherwise he would go around town talking about me. I did as told and passed off the last peach from my batch to this deserving man.

Who knew that a bag a fruit would make my day and 3 other people's? I'll tell you who: Ukrop's. I think they inject a little bit of the heaven into those peaches. I mean, they are rich Baptists-they have connections like that, right? Unfortunately, the Potluck friends, including my husband, won't get to experience the peaches, but I think they'll understand.


Now I'm not one to judge, but I'm a little perplexed about Mel Gibson's recent claims that the anti-Semitic remarks he made while being arrested for driving under the influence were simply just blurted out and not thought about. I mean, I've never been insanely drunk, but I doubt I would just randomnly ask someone if they were a Jew and then blame all of the wars in the world *on* the Jews. I guess when you're plastered out of your mind, thoughts from the deep wrinkles of your brain rise to the surface and come spewing out of your mouth. But, see, I think I would say something more like, "I only listened to 106.5 the Buzz in high school because I wanted to be cool," rather than comments about an entire culture/religion. But that's just me.

Tuesday, August 01, 2006

Ohhhhhh boys.

This week I am playing chapherone to one of my former (read: awesome) students named Brandon. Ross and I "sponsored" him this summer to take a class at the Visual Arts Center of Richmond. He's taking a cartooning class from 9-12 everyday this week. This involves me leaving my house at 8 to be at his house by 8:30 to be at the Arts Center by 9. I then pick him up at 12, take him home, and get back to my house around 1. It's the price you pay for helping the youth, I guess.

Anyway, as it was 879879.3 degrees, Brandon and I (mostly I) decided that we deserved Slurpees for even venturing out in the heat. I picked the Sunkist flavor. He picked Cherry. I was excited to show him how one fills up a Slurpee cup in order to achieve maximum fillage. He made a huge, sticky mess, but it was cute. Once in the car, he sucked down that Slurpee like none other, then spent the rest of the time giggling hysterically because his head hurt really bad. When I told him that the Slurpee coloring made him look like a vampire, he was even more excited and choked a little bit whilst laughing.

I gotta say, getting to be with one of my students in a much more relaxed situation where he could show pride in looking like the undead made the heat wave more tolerable.