When Everything's Dark Keeps Us From the Stark Reality I need to figure out how to center date and title. It's driving me crazy. Also, comments aren't working? The world is collapsing.

Randomly:

A new study has been released about people who watch romantic comedies and love them. These people apparently have terrible love lives and a totally unrealistic expectation of what love should be. So watch out for John Hughes movies, he destroyed a generation.

It's good to know that northern CA drivers are the same as southern CA drivers in the fact that as soon as a single drop of rain hits the pavement everyone's IQ drops a hundred points. I have also noticed that northern CA drivers do not understand that when an ambulance is behind you with its lights flashing you need to move over to the right quickly because lives depend on it. Today I watched as an ambulance practically had to push a guy off to the side of the road and I had a major urge to murder him.

I realized tonight that I am like a mentally compromised person with good intentions. I don't think I'm allowed to say retarded so I didn't. I always set out to do good, but then I can't figure out how to follow through and wind up either abandoning the project mid-way or making a big mess of things. Two things in two days: I set out to install a dimmer switch in the living room where now there is a single switch. I cut open the dimmer package, turned off the power, took the old one out of the wall, put the new one in, and it didn't work. I called dimmer tech support and the guy told me I had the wrong model, so I had to put the old switch back in and close it up and in doing so I apparently broke it because now the light doesn't turn on. Then tonight out of the goodness of my heart and also not wanting him to die, tried to put new windshield wipers on Gray's car. Suddenly I'm wondering why I'm trying to do all these man jobs, but whatever. So I get one of them halfway off and then can't figure out how to put the new one on, and imagine Gray driving to work tomorrow with one wiper on and one off while the bare metal scrapes the windshield. So I put the old broken one back on and left the new ones on his front seat. Good intentions, retarded everything else. I mean mentally compromised.

The baby has a double ear infection, labeled 'severe' by his doctor. This is his first, and also his first time taking antibiotics. He's had a fever and has been miserable and has decided in the process that he doesn't like me and only likes his father. This is kind of sad, and hopefully temporary, but it does mean I can answer email without a toddler in my lap. If you have a baby with an ear infection, don't read about it on the internet because you think he'll go deaf overnight and will never be able to listen to Depeche Mode and you'll feel terrible and it's better just to not read.

Note to self: type less, and more often. I'll figure it out soon.


  ¶ 9:53 PM 1 Comments

  Hey Window Pane Do You Remember Uh, how do I do links in the sidebar on this thing? And how do I center the date and the title? I feel like I'm in the middle of a lake with no paddle. Nice that I'm cool with Dreamweaver for six years, but then introduce Blogger and it's like I've never seen a line of code before. Links, blogroll - I need me a tutorial bad.

I just watched the movie "Next" while sitting on the couch stuffing my face with Burger King. At least it wasn't Popeye's. This is the Nicolas Cage sci-fi thing that came and went seemingly overnight even though it had a decent cast. Am I the only one who thinks he looked a little like Roland from TFF in it? Semi disturbing, semi arousing. Also, why did the black guy have to die? The black guy always dies.

A few years ago I wrote an entry about how I'd spent the afternoon at the park with my friend and her kid, and I said something like, "I had a flash and realized this is my future," all the while hoping it wasn't, that there would be something better to do with a kid than take him to the park and pretend to be interested that he crawled through a tunnel, that's amazing, yay!#!1! But there isn't. If I had a dollar for every day I've spent at the park, or some kind of Baby Fun Place, I would be loaded, way more loaded than I wish I was right now on all the Wild Turkey that I'm not drinking because I'm in the purgatory of maybe-pregnancy. Today I was in an upper-Peninsula indoor gymnasium-turned-gymboree, which was fun for the baby and fun for me only because I was with a friend, but come on. Two hours bouncing and tumbling and eating a little lunch? My brain is emulsifying. I don't even know if that word works, and you can blame it on my brain.

Also, ever since he turned 21 months last week he has become a biter, a thrower of dishes, and a non-eater of vegetables. This, everyone says, is a very trying age. And I would agree.

In other news, good news, I've finally after all this time started using Pandora, the internet jukebox, and it's great. I've made three Christmas stations, and now listen to Burl Ives sing Frosty the Snowman all day long. Also, Frank Sinatra sings a really bizarre version of Rudolf the Rednosed Reindeer, and there's some other stuff that had no business ever being recorded. But overall it's festive. You know what else would be festive? The gingerbread cookies I would have made had Beans not jumped up on the counter and eaten the box of mix while I was off watching the baby tumble and bounce. Merry Christmas, dumb Beans.  ¶ 10:26 PM 0 Comments

  Sleighbells Ring. Are You Listening? Something is lost in the aesthetic here, on this strange and new blog, and it bugs me. But it's time to trade form for function. We'll see how it goes.

It's funny, it's like the only way I can write lately is in Facebook mode. "Stealthpunch is..." and then you fill in the blanks. So, Stealthpunch is waiting for a phone call, and she doesn't like waiting for phone calls, especially when she could be taking a shower and otherwise maximizing her time while the baby's sleeping. (That by the way was too long and would not fit in the Facebook box.) When professionally-professioned people say they'll call at a certain time (in this case, 11am) and still haven't called by now (11:19am), it makes me nuts. Soon the baby will be awake, I will still be unwashed, and I won't have the phonecall information I need. (11:22).

There were two things I should wrap up after mentioning them four months ago or whenever it was the last time I wrote: I am not pregnant and I don't have cancer. I don't think. The pregnancy thing you never know about because the schedule is -- do it, wait a few weeks, then period or no period. I am currently in the post-do-it part, so while I don't think I'm pregnant, you never truly know until the red river does or doesn't flow. And I got my neck lump checked and it isn't lymphoma or leukemia, but the doctor said, "You can't rule out cancer with a blood test, and it's too small for a fine needle aspiration, so you just have to watch it and see if it grows." So I guess i'll just wait and watch it and see if it becomes CANCER. I should start each appointment telling these doctors that I am a nutcase, and then maybe they'd not be so casual with their lighthearted maybe-death sentences.

(11:26) Bitches.

I have to learn to write more often, but less. So I will end here.


  ¶ 11:15 AM 0 Comments

  This Is The Day When Things Fall Into Place Testing one two three. This thing on?
Hello, Blogger. Goodbye coding by hand.
Hello to more frequent entries?  ¶ 11:30 PM 0 Comments