Windsday

Simon really loves windy days. Whenever it is windy, I take him out to fly planes and occasionally sail ships. On National Windsday he helped me build a turbine. However, we couldn't get it to work. On the other hand, I am generally not a fan of wind or drafts of any kind. I believe my dislike stems from an 8 year old's bitterness.

In fourth grade, we had a teacher named Mr. Zeilant. He was the sort of teacher who would breed competitiveness in his students. For example, he ritualistically walked around the room with his stamp grading scale, giving each person the appropriate number of stamps to signify how pretty their spelling homework appeared. Everyone silently and nervously counted his hand motions as he systematically marked the marble notebooks, student by student. I loved to hate homework in Mr. Zeilant's class. One of my classmates, Jennifer, claimed indifference to the glory of stampage and said she valued her play time at home more than beautifying her pages. One day Jennifer raised her hand in class; follows is the gist of the question and response that might irritate me to this day.

"If you're standing next to a building so that you're in the shade, doesn't it mean that if the wind is blowing in the same direction as the sun, you won't feel it? So as long as you're in the shade you are protected by the wall?"

"Yes Jennifer! You are a super genius! I am so proud of you! Fifty million stamps to you!"

Now, granted, as maybe this is true, I've thought about it for decades and fail to see the brilliance of this logic. Since when do light particles and wind follow the same rules of physics? Keep in mind that I almost couldn't get into medical school due to my horrid scores on the physics section of the MCAT. In a world of magic and whimsy, I don't need physics. Perhaps this explains our turbine problems.

Dieting: Fail

How To Make Friends, Part I

Tempt your victim with carrots, oats, and/or cheese. This will bring her closer to the house and out of the bushes. You will probably have to place the temptations on a bed of lettuce, or in the front garden on top of that flower that looks like lettuce. After a few days the victim will begin to trust her surroundings. The next step involves subtly presenting yourself into the environment. I would suggest dressing up like any friendly herbivore. Do not forget the tail. In the meantime practice your sprints. If speed is a problem, build a zipline. Evidently my dad could make friends with his bare hands, but I've been using a friend-net. Simon seems to be knocking out his victims with his fists of friend-zy. I've made three friends so far and they have been quite delicious.

Flames on the sides of my face

My mom calls me a lot. I've been trying to teach her the benefits of email, but with little headway. Sometimes my mother calls on the phone wanting to spell out a website URL so I can write it down, look it up, and give her some sort of feedback. A call such as this could assault me while I'm driving, changing a diaper, or watching my stories. My mom's ineffectual internet-phone-phone-internet-phone debacle drives me batty, so much so that I decided to make a list of other such things that bother me more than they should.

10. Creationism
9. Dion's ex-girlfriends, concept of;
8. Spiders, existance of
7. That sound Steph makes when she's trying to clear out her ears
6. People who like Nickelback
5. ~can't stand when a bitch all in my side~
4. Slurping
3. Reading a your/you're or they're/their/there mistake
2. Cleaning up satyr droppings in the back yard
1. "Oversize load" signs, because I believe they need a "d" in there

Blunders Enlightening

When I left for class today I forgot to give Buddy his diazepam before the storm came. Consequently his anxiety-induced barking and howling caused Simon to scream and cry, which led to Dion's stress-induced temporary loss of brain function. I'm sure it was at this point that my husband with a spatial IQ of 164 couldn't fit all of the dirty dishes into the dishwasher before he started it.

Around 2pm I heard the alarm sound, indicating the entrance of a package delivery truck onto the premises. I order things online when I get bored or when I feel priceless; mostly the latter. I also enjoy having strange men visit my house and give me things. Today, I received my Anthony Bourdain autographed photograph and my Brazilian begonias. Evidently I order miniature versions of autographed pictures and tremendous jumbo packages of flowers, hypothesizing a correlation with the computer screen making everything look the same size. So then, during this disenchantment, Simon began nibbling on the dog food.

Still, I managed not to break my foot again on my trek down the college stairs in my platforms by only the light of the ... well, rain clouds. I realized I had tricked fate when I heard "This Love" by Maroon 5 two times on the radio via channel surfing during my 15 minute ride home. For anyone unfamiliar, it was this masterpiece that inspired the awkward gyrations leading to the original snap of my 5th right metatarsal, on the eve of my sister's dance recital.

Sweating in Small Animal Shapes

It was too hot to go to the zoo today. When I walked outside to get the mail I inadvertently began the breast stroke to the mailbox and remembered what a good idea it is to teach Simon to swim as soon as possible. When we visited the zoo last time with Monica and Maya, Simon leisurely strolled the path conversing intelligently with the furry critters. One of the zebras told him that his smile was worth a million dollars. I'm not sure I trust a zebra to know the value of American currency. How long does a zebra have to live in the country to become a citizen? Can a zebra marry a horse? I know some horses up the street and I bet I could be like the millionaire matchmaker of the equids. Simon also discussed the pros and cons of bubble blowing with the leopard. I could only understand a few words here and there, including "bububa" and "elmo".

I hope it gets cooler outside tomorrow. My garden in desperate need of weeding and I can't afford to lose any more sweat. Plus I'm sure we are due for another zoo visit.

Thoughts on Feeding Time

I set my alarm every morning to go off at 5:15am. The reason I do this is because every night, I go to bed thinking that at 5:15am, I will wake up and go to the gym before Simon gets up and before Dion goes to work. Its the perfect time to go to the gym. And every morning, I turn my alarm off, because the thought of running at that time becomes utterly absurd.

The only way I would ever get out of bed this early was if I saw a donut dangling over my head, and this donut moved slowly away from me, forcing me to follow it out of bed and into my workout clothes. Does a donut dangler count as a personal trainer? I could really use a personal trainer. He shouldn't let me eat the donut though. This defeats the purpose of the gym.

The term "feeding time" was coined by my good friend Kara, who struggles along with me, and probably the rest of the female population, with the whole diet and exercise hoopla. Whenever someone tells her that she looks thinner she replies with "Thanks. I'm really hungry". I'm really hungry, too. It makes sense then, that my only motivation to exercise is a donut.

I also believe the plants are hungry. Can I feed my house plants leftover baby formula? They seem to be dying. And I'm always dumping formula down the sink.