Archive for January, 2008

Mumps are not Eggplant

Saturday, January 12th, 2008

fridaynight.jpgI do a lot of crashing out on the couch in front of the fire or wherever since I started working full time again. Grok grok. You do that anyway, y’ ol’ bag. Grok grok Shut up, Froog! Never mind him. Now where was I? Oh yeah. As interesting as the job is, there is definitely a learning curve or two or ten going on and I am tired by the end of the day. If my body doesn’t feel fatigued, my brain clonks out. I knew I wouldn’t want to go out, even for dinner, on Friday night. I wanted to cook something at home and sit in front of the fire to eat it but I knew the GG wouldn’t be satisfied with that plan. I was pretty sure he’d want to walk downtown and eat somewhere and walk around. I just wasn’t up to that. But there also wasn’t any food in the house. At least not anything that could scrabble itself together into something I wanted to cook. So I got ahead of the game and proposed a compromise: “Why don’t we get a reservation at Knight’s, oh say for about 7:30 or so?” I figured I would get home around six and take a little walk and then we could walk over to Knight’s in time to hang out at the bar and drink one of Yul’s infamous manhattans (what? measure it? moi?) while we waited for our reservation to come up. We could stumble home after it was all over and I could fall asleep on the couch. I still wasn’t terribly excited about the whole thing but so what?

Then, sometime during the afternoon, my phone vibrated. It was Sam! The Archaeologist! It was then that I remembered Sam and jcb were gonna leave the great dry southern city of Hotlanta and head up here to the great white north to check on what her octos are getting up to these days! Er, I guess one of them is a nona now. It’s okay, he’s still out there cutting down big tree branches that are higher than his head with a cross-cut saw or whatever you call it. Anyway. Her parental units had their usual Friday evening news/political programs on the agenda and Sam was up for something a little more exciting, not that the Landfill often qualifies as terribly exciting these days. You know, I remember seeing Yasser Arafat’s hair on Sam’s parents’ TV like 30 years ago or so on a Friday night and Sam and I were definitely looking for something more interesting to do then too. Go figure.

So Sam and jcb headed down over this way from the Lansing area for the evening, surprising the unsuspecting GG out of his afternoon nap. Our original plans didn’t change all that much except for some whine and hilarity. Actually a whole lot more hilarity than would have probably occurred with just me and the GG. I don’t have much to say about it all but you can check it out in this cute little slideshow if you want. Whaddya mean, the photos are all fuzzy? That is ART, you guys. Er, or, maybe it’s just a typical Friday night at Knight’s with a few shots amid the clutter of the Landfill kitchen. Captions? Y’all expect me to write captions too? Y’all can write your own captions. Watch for Stormy Kromer hats and knock yourselves out! Grok grok grok. No Froggy, I didn’t mean you!

Note to self: find a ring-tone to assign to incoming calls from Sam. Maybe some old human toe-bones rattling together would fit the bill.

Grrrrrroooooaaaaaarrrrrrr!!!!! Er, rather, (Grrrrrroooooaaaaaarrrrrrr!!!!!) squared to the 6th

Friday, January 11th, 2008

spazz.jpg1) WHERE DO KEYS BELONG? Honestly, if there are two keys to the blue vee-hickle in the basket and NO keys to the green vee-hickle in the basket and the green vee-hickle is BEHIND the blue vee-hickle, what am I supposed to do?

2) Dear Washtenaw County Jury Board! In your infinite wisdom, why can you not figure out that my daughter has been a citizen of the great state of California for OVER A YEAR NOW!!!! She is not eligible to serve on one of your blasted juries and she is not going to return to The Great Lake State for that particular purpose. What *WERE* you thinking?

3) I won’t even say anything about Sprint’s latest phone bill. That is all.

4) Mumps are not eggplant.

5) Don’t put that down. I just gave it to you.

6) Testosterone gets in the way.

Stuff and more stuff

Thursday, January 10th, 2008

tarpits.jpgElizilla has a great post about *stuff* this week. (And I think she said it was okay for me to use this picture. It’s from the tar pits somewhere near LA and I definitely did not take it since I was not there and have only been in Cali once in my life, and never in LA. Yes, I am lame. And this is my beautiful older daughter. Don’t try to figure out what she’s doing in the pic. I dunno either. Or care, really. ;-))

Anyway. You know, I am not out here to apologize or go on a guilt trip or anything, but I know that part of my kids’ issues about having too much stuff originates with me. Because I bought them *tons* of crap when they were growing up. Birthdays, Christmas. Just because it seemed like a neat toy/gewgaw/knickknack/whatever. Books? Yeah, bring ’em on! Boooooks are goooood for you! Where did I get the money? I dunno. I did work at a real *paying* job until they were in 1st and 4th grade but, boy, have I ever wished many times that I could get all that money back and make the *stuff* magically disappear. Even some of the booooks.

Lemme think. Barbie dolls, just to name one. Barbie dolls are 3-year-old toys. I know, there’s all that crap about body image and the message Barbie sends to our precious little martinets, etc., etc., ad nauseam. But at the age of three, it’s all about ownership. So-and-so has a Barbie, I *need* one too. So you buy your kid a blasted Barbie or two or three. It isn’t the best thing to do but you just do it. If you don’t (and I did, don’t get me wrong), sometimes somebody else (Grandma or whoever) buys one for your kid anyway. One time, my kids hit the absolute jackpot with Barbie, and My Little Pony stuff too. We had been to a family party where the older cousins et al had off-loaded all their Barbie/MLP stuff onto the beach urchins. Did I care? No! Because I had some sort of ridiculous virus that day and when we got home with all that stuff, I was ecstatic that there was something new for them to play with while I hit the rack early! Sometimes, you do whatever it takes to get you through the night.

It was great fun until they were about, oh, I dunno, seven and 10 years old? And then the GG had a garage sale one Saturday and all of those Barbie/MLP toys were among the first to go, with my beach urchins sitting out there foisting them off on any cute little pink-clad female munchkin to come along. For free or very low cost.

I have been working really hard on de-cluttering over the last year. It isn’t easy. I/we have obtained a whole lot of crap over the years. I too can remember when I could basically fit my life into a small vee-hickle. In my case, it wasn’t a Honda Civic, it was one of those crappy old Ford Pinto Wagons. Sam remembers it! 🙂 Rust City! Yikes!

I am MUCH impressed with the younger generation(s) because they seem to be thinking about this stuff up front. At least more than I ever did. Until now. Sigh. Let’s all try to reduce our “footprints.” Love you, Elizilla! You y’all.

January 9th, 2008

Wednesday, January 9th, 2008

charlottejerry.jpgOkay. Today is The Commander’s birthday. I usually call her and sing Happy Birthday over the phone and I was thinking about doing that this morning early but I had to go to work and, on the way to work, I wanted to mail the last boxes to California, so I spaced it out a bit. Although I had a definite plan to go outside sometime during the morning and call her. Like, I do NOT want the people at my work to hear me sing Happy Birthday. Kee-reist! 🙂

Anyway, I was sitting there working and my phone was on vibrate and (glawk!) it vibrated! The Commander, at HOME! I thought something like, “What? Didn’t I call you soon enough on your birthday?” Naw. Of course, The Comm was not concerned about that. This call started like so many others that have brought bad news. “I just thought you ought to know, Jerry died last night.” Sigh. Good-bye Jerry. His wife was The Commander’s younger sister Charlotte, a MUCH beloved aunt by me and one of The Comm’s best friends in life. She died a few weeks before the September 11th attacks. That was a difficult season. Jerry’s daughter, my cousin Cathy, my age, died a few years ago also. Jerry leaves my cousin Doug and his wife and their two children and Cathy’s two children. And maybe a dog, but I’m not sure about that. Charlotte and Jerry are in the pic, back in better times in their home in Royal Oak. Jerry was a very talented person who liked to have fun and I think he and Charlotte are having fun in this picture. And maybe wherever they both are. We’re all gettin’ older. Love.

goldhatsociety.jpgSo, The Commander had a great 87th (!!) birthday. Yesterday, she and all the other iron-clad octo-women of Birch Point Beach and its environs (and this beach is on L. Superior, not somewhere in FLA) had lunch at the hotel. Today, on her birthday, The Comm had a rather wild adventure about taking out the garbage involving ice and 50 mph winds and a ditch and losing her favorite hat (but she found it again). The Comm is still healthy and her brain works well, if a bit slower than it might’ve once. She owns and operates two residences and two vee-hickles. Do NOT suggest that she needs assisted living yet. If you do that, she will undoubtedly get the butcher knife out. After her garbage adventure, she spent the afternoon attending an elder’s presentation at the college. She and Radical Betty were instrumental in starting out the elders program. You go girls!!!

Doug, I dunno how often you read this bunch of blather but we are very sorry to lose Jerry. I know his health had been declining and the last months have not been easy. Love you all. That is about all I can say right now. I have no good words. Sigh.

P.S. Yes, The Commander was all decked out in her gold sequined baseball hat and her Aunt Lillian’s (do I have that right?) fur something or other. You’ve heard of the Red Hat Society? Well, you ain’t seen nothin’ until you’ve seen the Gold Hat Society in action!

P.S. P.S. And happy birthday, BD Grrrl!!! Diane, right? Sorry, you guys. I’m operating in fragments this morning. Not a good thing. 😉

quick iPhone update

Wednesday, January 9th, 2008

1) today is the commander’s birthday

2) uncle jerry died last night

More later when I can type

Rarfnsnarfnschnarfleblahgle

Tuesday, January 8th, 2008

circuitoverload.jpgFirst of all, sorry about that Frahgblahg. I cannot seem to manage to get Froggy to get his own blasted blahg. I’ve been trying for years. I step away from my computer for just a few minutes (much needed to step away by the way ;-)) and he takes over. Yes he *does* regard the “garbidge” truck as a “grokkery” store. But he also sometimes stows away on *real* grocery store trips. He loves to turn on those little showers in the produce section. You know, the ones that make a thundery noise. And then. It is interesting to be out of the house for the whole day every day and try to fit the errands of life around it. I can no longer think to myself, “Oh I will just go to the post office to mail this box to California after I watch As the Planet Turns and eat a few more bonbons, etc. Well, there *are* chocolate cherries in the house at the moment. But. I went to the post office this morning and they were understaffed and there were a couple of “problem” people there. Like this one guy ahead of me who kept talking to me and his voice was so low that even my hypersensitive ears couldn’t tell what he was saying. So it definitely took some time for the postal people to deal with him. And (sigh) I even saved his place in line while he went out to his vee-hickle to get something. At least I think that’s what he did but I could hardly hear him so I don’t really know*. Anyway, I was behind him in line. That was my morning. It was raining cats and dogs and a few skunks and possums and frogs Grok grok Never mind him. He’s been banished to his “londry baskit.” By the time I got to work, I felt like a drowned rat. But it was beautiful weather and the building my work is in somehow feels like an aquarium in the rain. It’s hard to describe but somehow I enjoy that feeling. And, if you’ve gotten this far, do not get me wrong. I am having a *great* time with the full-time hours. It’s a new adventure and I knew there would be kinks and these are minor ones and I will work it all out.

Ciao Bambino,
Kayak Woman

* That’s a LOT better than when I ran into a fellow grade-school mom at the post office once and, when I asked her about her family, she launched LOUDLY into a whole ugly thing about how her husband had molested the baby and was now in jail “up north” somewhere, etc., etc., etc. Yikes!!! Why did I ask, again? Sigh…

Grok grok! I wanna go t’ th’ grokkery store too! grok grok

Monday, January 7th, 2008

myfriends.jpgGrok grok! Boy that stoopid ol’ Garbidge Woman is such a no-it-all. grok grok. She is alwayz rumblin’ aroun’ about how t’ sort th’ reeecycle stuff. grok rokgr frgok. ‘n’ what t’ put int’ th’ compost heep ‘n’ what not t’ put int’ th’ compost heep. grokgrok. ‘n’ Ol’ Baggy has a ol’ black thum so I don’t see what diffrens it makes what goes int’ th’ compost heep. Grok Grok. ‘n’ how t’ packidge up th’ garbidge so it doesn’ make a big mess ‘n’ if y’ don’t do it all jest eggzackly rite, she gits up on ‘er ol’ hi horse ‘n’ starts decreein’ this ‘n’ that ‘n’ th’ other thing. grok grok frgok. Us pore li’l ol’ froggies hafta hop lickety-split outta ‘er way! Grok grok GROK!

grok grok. So, th’ last garbidge day wuz reeely funny. Grok grok. It wuz Saterdy but this’s th’ first time Ol’ Baggy has stept away frum th’ ol’ puter long enuf fer me t’ git on. Grok grok. I wantid t’ do a podcast but th’ ol’ bag has me lockt outta garageband, maybee i’ll be back later with one. grok grok. Enyway. It wuz garbidge day ‘n’ Ol’ Garbidge Woman wuz fussin’ aroun’ cuz she fergot t’ take out one last ol’ garbidge bag. grok grok. So she bagged it all up ‘n’ started goin’ out t’ th’ street t’ put it in th’ garbidge cart. grok grok. Me ‘n’ Squeeky Speedy Water Janet Pop Bubble Mousey Mushroom Ears wer sittin’ up here on th’ top o’ th’ ol’ curtis couch watchin’ out th’ window. grok frogdk ‘n’ Softy Beenbag ‘n’ Moosey ‘n’ th’ new li’l krismus mousey too. grok grok. Wee see all kinds o’ stuff frum heer. Grok grok. ‘n’ we cud see th’ ol’ garbidge truk, clankity clankity clankin’ along th’ street. ‘n’ it got t’ ol’ Hans’s house jus’ as Ol’ Garbidge Woman wuz heddin’ out thare. grok grok. ‘n’ she jest bearly manidged t’ git th’ trash int’ th’ cart beefor th’ ol’ truck got thare. grok grok. Too bad that ol’ mekanikle arm didn’ manidge t’ pick up ol’ Garbidge Woman. Grok grok grok. Then maybee we’da had a li’l peese aroun’ here. grok grok. Check out th’ pitchers I took w’ my noo camra ‘n’ y’ c’n click ’em t’ make ’em bigger too. grok grok

gw1.jpggw2.jpggw3.jpg

And the sky is a hazy shade of winter

Sunday, January 6th, 2008

foggeese.jpgI don’t know about you but I love winter days when it’s dark and foggy and stays that way all day. We’re having a January thaw here and all that snow we got on New Year’s is melting and evaporating and it isn’t supposed to stop being foggy until sometime tonight. The ice on the Urine Huron River has a thin layer of water covering it that makes it look like all the water birds are walking on water and the trees have this kind of spooky look. Tomorrow they say it’s supposed to go up to almost 60 degrees here in the southeast corner of the Great Lake State. And I thought I heard somebody on the radio blathering about thunderstorms. We’ll see.

The climate *inside* The Landfill is a bit more, well, I guess I better not say. I am all for making improvements to the rat’s nest of ‘puters, waaaaars, and hubs that have The Landfill in a stranglehold. Installation of an additional wifi thingamabob, in this case. And a new webcam since the old one is up at the Group Home. What I am not thrilled about is all the crowing around about how great things are gonna be. Caw caw caaaawww er er er er roo. Crow if you will but you might better wait until after you’ve done a thorough round of QA. Apparently one of Mouse’s favorite blahggers, The Yarn Harlot, is having a similar kind of problem at her house (scroll down to the 1/2/08 entry). I don’t know anything about her husband but it sounds like he’s the typical male variety of mad scientist/engineer geek. I dunno. Can’t live with ’em, can’t live without ’em. And, kee-reist, my blasted host server is slow as molasses today! Again! I think the money they spent to make the silly little Flash new year’s card they sent out to all of their customers would’ve been better spent on making the trains run on time and tech support. Did I just say tech support? What tech support? But what do I know? I’m just some dumb customer. Sitting out here waiting for ababsurdo. Waiting for ababsurdo. Waiting… for… ababsurdo…………..

As you can see, it is “one of *those* days,” as Elizilla would say, meaning this blahgger is scraping the bottom of the barrel. I did manage to get some photos although they are a little, well, I guess “foggy” would be a good word. Click here or on the pic. (Mouse, there are more aminal pics, even one of some nice horseys.)

I *knew* this would happen if I went back to work

Saturday, January 5th, 2008

grumpyoldman.jpgOr some variation of it. You are not old and you are not my dad. Go to work or go kayaking or fiddle around with hubs and waaaaaars and things. Put some hot water in your empty milk glass so it can soak the milk ring off, fer Kee-reist! Find a nice girlfriend. You know who you are and you can find something to do. I do the blasted grocery store by myself. It’s faster when there’s nobody to distract me.

And so I did. Early. I-won’t-say-how-much or so at the Saline Rd. Meijer, I really didn’t look at the total. I just swiped. And Tarjay for a new bathmat (very much needed) and shower curtain (really not needed but matched nicely). Honestly, I probably spend around that much money at the grocery store every week. It’s just that since I usually do it in little dribs and drabs, somehow it doesn’t feel like I’m spending that much. But this time I hope that I-won’t-say-how-much lasts the whole week or thereabouts. Except. Sigh. I have *already* been back out. Today. This time I was out of mailing tape. Well, actually, I’m probably not out of mailing tape but I can’t find any so I might as well be. Since really I’m just a moom who mails stuff to California, I need mailing tape. Anyway, I also needed throat coat (for the GG, not for me) and little boxes of soy milk (which I couldn’t *find* at Meijer) and a bead magazine and plastic wrap and quart-sized ziploc bags. So back out. To the Westgate Kroger this time. Okay, I didn’t *need* the bead magazine, I was just walking by the rack and it jumped into my basket. What can I say?

P.S. Now that I have put the new bathmat and shower curtain in the Blue and Only Bathroom, I realize how awful the floor is in there. It isn’t as bad as the kitchen floor. Quite. But maybe it’ll be next on my list after the back room carpet and kitchen floor. I suppose that will mean I won’t have the use of the Blue (and Only) Toilet for the duration. Hmmm…

I’m so glad somebody else does this stuff too

Friday, January 4th, 2008

stuff.jpg“Hey, there’s Briarwood Mall!” I thought, as I was rather nonchalantly motoring along the I94 18-wheel Clogway to work today. And then, “Oh, #$%&! I was supposed to get off at that exit.” Sheesh! It is not long until the next exit after the “Briarwood” exit but the next exit is not an easy on/off type thing. It is a major freeway interchange and, in order to turn around, you have to get off, drive a half mile or so on *another* freeway, wait FOREVER at a stoplight, cross the other freeway, get back on and *then* enter the I94 18-wheel Clogway *again*, going the other way this time. And these are those WWII type clover-leaf intersections which were designed for when there were like, five vee-hickles on the road per mile instead of nineteen million gazillion. All that, plus I kept getting behind people who were motoring along at a slower rate of speed than I wanted to go because they had their blasted cellular telephones plastered to their ears. And I was NOT trying to go over the speed limit — at least not too much. And I should probably be happy that said cell-talkers were going a little bit slower than I wanted to go. I know how distracted you can be when you are yakkin’ on the phone while driving. But kee-reist! THAT’S WHY I RARELY DOOOOO THAT!!!! HELLOOOOOO! If you wanna talk, PULL OVER SOMEWHERE! But the truth is that I was distracted by my own thoughts, not my cell phone, and I missed my exit.

This is the first time since working there that I’ve missed the exit! Yeek!

Then I tried to shoot out to the Saline Rd. Meijer at lunch. I try to take a half hour lunch and it’s a proven fact that I can get over to Meijer and buy, say 10 items, and get back to work in a half hour. I did that on New Year’s Eve, when the store was CRAZY! Not this time. There was a backup on State St. that was so bad that by the time I got to Ellsworth, I just turned around and went back to work. I mean, I could’ve taken a longer lunch. But my own personal work ethic says that if they are expecting me to work eight hours a day (40 hours a week), I work eight hours a day, 40 hours a week. And, really, I didn’t get there until nine this morning and I wanted to get out by 5:30, so I gave myself a half hour for lunch. And hit the Westgate Kroger on the way home. I’ll be hitting the grocery store (probably the Jackson Rd. Meijer) again in the morning and maybe a few other stores. Our bathmats (yes, two, don’t ask) have holes in them. Doya think it might be time to replace them?

Hey, it’s okay. It was a good day. I’m just kvetching! ’cause that’s what blahgs are for. Love, Kayak Woman!

In a cube somewhere on the planet

Thursday, January 3rd, 2008

sunsetcube.jpgThis picture was in my old cube, way back in the Jurassic age. Anyone want my 80s clothes? Size medium or thereabouts. Bright colored with lots of black. I never did do any of the drab corporate stuff very well. Anyway, now the sunset pic is in my new cube. It attracts a bit of attention but probably not as much as the first day of kindergarten pic does. I am always quick to explain that yes, they are my kids. 18 years ago or so. Wouldn’t want anyone to be confused. You know, they might wonder if the kids were my grandchildren or the daughters of my much younger sister. The non-existent one.

The GG took the sunset pic. I think. Or was it my bro’? The GG had it blown up and mounted and he snuck it into my cube one day when I wasn’t looking. I mean into my old cube. He can’t even get into the building that my new cube is in. ‘course, there’s a great big vee-hickle eater over where my old cube is these days. Where the GG still is. I don’t even go near there if I can avoid it. To think we used to just, well, drive in. Thank you Al Qaida. (This is prob’ly borderline taboo to put in my blahg but I’m just being a reporter here. Facts only.)

I probably have about a thousand Birch Point Beach sunset pictures. This one has a bit of a history in a way that the others don’t and it isn’t even because it has been blown up to a huge size. I’m not sure how big it is but I put it in a “tall kitchen bag” to schlep it over there today and it stuck way out. It is not small. But back in the day, I was sitting around in my cube one day, trying to pick my way out of the huge hole I always seemed to be in, when our new computer operator stuck his head around the corner and said, “That’s Round Island.” And, yes, it *is* Round Island. On the right, there. I almost fell out of my chair. How did he know that was Round Island? He did, and that’s how our good friend John, and later on his wife Diane, came into our lives. Because they have a cabin around Birch Point from Fin Family Moominbeach and they can see Round Island too and it’s an easy kayak (or walk) from my cabin to theirs.

Grand Central Station at 3 AM…

Wednesday, January 2nd, 2008

lizjeep.jpg…as Elizilla got up to take a shower and the plows arrived to clear our street. She had a 6 AM flight and we’d’ve made it there even if they hadn’t plowed because *we* have The Indefatigable! Which is what our California girl is driving in the pic since that’s the only way she could get out of the neighborhood yesterday. Don’tcha love that rust! And it is the vee-hickle that both of our girls learned to drive in, when they were about eight or ten or whatever, at Raco, an abandoned WWII airbase in the Yoop, so she’s very familiar with it, creakly old manual transmission and all. Just try to get that sucker into reverse. (Sorry Mom, I know that’s a bad word.) You can’t quite see all the aminal bones and other cosmic debris the GG has strategically hung up in the interior of the vee-hickle.That’s probably a good thing. And, no, it doesn’t have airbags. Anyway, her flight, which was listed as “on time” when she checked “last night,” (meaning a few hours before we left for the airport), ended up being delayed enough that she would miss her connecting flight out of O’Hare, so she ended up on a later one and then missed *another* connecting flight by something like two minutes. But they were able to put her on a 10 o’clock (CST) flight and she called me at around 4:30 (EST, 1:30 PST) to report a safe arrival. From there, she was going to catch the BART and eventually go in to work this afternoon. Whooof! Are you tired yet? And so it goes when you are traveling through the great white north during the winter holiday season. It could have been a lot worse. I just breathed a sigh of relief when I got the “I’m in San Francisco” call. I may be able to do something to help with wet, ice cold feet but all I could say when she called (at 6:30 AM) to say her flight was delayed was something lame like, “go get some breakfast” and then I felt guilty because I hadn’t slipped her any cash this morning. Of course, that would’ve been a little hard to do, since I didn’t *have* any cash this morning! My girl was fine. She’s much more organized than me. And a lot calmer. No tears or obvious anxiety. Just go with the flow. Although, when I think about it, as scared as I am of flying, somehow I tend to be very calm when I’m actually dealing with airports and planes, etc. Go figure.

Me, I went to work. I dunno, I think I love it! 🙂 What *was* I waiting for?

My own child, tired and cold.

Tuesday, January 1st, 2008

newyearsday.jpgOnce upon an eon ago, it was the end of a rather cold, wet Halloween Shoe On night. I heard one last trick-or-treater on the porch and when I got to the door, it was a little lavender pony with a rainbow colored mane and tail. She had run one house ahead of her dad and little tiger mouse and she was happy but her little hooves were wet and freezing cold. Come on in, little trick-or-treater, and we’ll put some warm water in the tub and that will warm up your hooves. Not just any little trick-or-treater but my own child, tired and cold.

I told you I would sleep through the new year on the couch and I did. It was wonderful and nobody’s head appeared in the fire although I contemplated photoshopping that goofy, Courtois-y-looking head from the back “garden” in there. Sam mentioned something about fireworks in a comment and I didn’t even hear any of that stuff this year. I did not care! The GG walked downtown and from the lame comment he left on Sam’s blahg, he apparently spent the new year in the Monkey Bar. Hope that was fun. And smoky. When he got home, I moved from the couch to bed, stopping at the doorway to get a couple of snow pics with my iPhone.

Elizilla had a couple of options for spending New Year’s Eve and chose to go downtown with friends, which was a good thing because the other option involved driving over to Megalopolis in the snow and possibly having difficulty getting back to The Planet today, which would be a bad thing because she leaves at 0-dark-30 tomorrow morning. I doubt she and her friends spent the new year at the Monkey Bar, but who knows. It is difficult for a California girl to dress for the weather here in the Great Lake State. For one thing, you really don’t need snow boots out in the bay area so she doesn’t own any. She politely but unceremoniously refused the loan of my horrible, ripped up old boots (note to KW: get some NEW ONES!!!). And so, at 3:30 AM or whenever, the front door opened and my little pony arrived home with, “my feet are freezing!” I rather groggily called out, “wash ’em!” My own child, tired and cold.

And then, I couldn’t get back to sleep. For a while I actually contemplated getting up but that just seemed too weird because at that time on New Year’s Day, a whole lot of people are STILL PARTYING, etc., and anyway, I DO have to get up at some similar time tomorrow morning in order to get Elizilla to Metro. So finally I did go back to sleep and that screwed up my sleep cycle so that I had a hard time waking up again at 6, which is when I WANTED to get up! But I dragged myself out pretty shortly thereafter and had a loverly time walking in the dark in 12 beautiful inches of snow. For once, I actually appreciated SUVs because wherever somebody with great big tires had driven, I could walk in the ruts, but I couldn’t always do that, so my boots got full of snow and my feet were freezing when I got home. Did I wash ’em? Gosh, I can’t remember! I’m not sure when we’ll be able to get out. I mean, we can get The Indefatigable out but I saw one Honda Accord stuck on Westwood (it’s in the slide show) and I would’ve laughed about that but the fact that *I* have a Honda Accord sobered me up a bit. I dunno when they’ll get around to plowing.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!