Bonus

This is the answer to that perpetually burning question:  "What do girls who have been high school drill team members do when they leave high school???"

You can thank me later.

# 800

Well, so much for the mellow Friday I had imagined.  But I did get a lot done, so there is that.

Today is post number 800.  Is that crazy to anyone else?!

My thoughts are scattered and fairly random today, so I'll just give you the bullet points:

* I love that our school district is seeking (pro-actively, and a full year in advance) public input on their proposed bond--and that they listen.

* I wish the city would have done the same about the utility rates.

* My dad mentioned our new furniture on the phone the other day and then added that he wondered if I realized that in another 10 years I could have grand kids playing on the furniture.  YIKES!

*If I am walking briskly uphill for almost an hour each morning, why are my pants not feeling any looser?  Is the exercise still just working my heart and lungs only?

*The Girl asked if she could get checked for exercise-induced asthma, as she is having a hard time breathing when she works out too hard at the pool.

*Does she realize that we call her a "fish" metaphorically?

*Why do Reece's Peanut Butter cups taste so good, in absolutely any form?  Dangit.

*Maybe that is why my jeans don't feel any looser.  Double Dangit.

*Why does Ferris Bueller's Day Off  seem full of so much more naughty language now than when I first loved it in the 80s?

*Hope our Viking boys win the football game tonight.

*I sure put my foot in my mouth at my PTA meeting yesterday.  I was doing a show 'n tell of the on-time drawing prizes.  A couple of things were 2-for-1 cards to a couple of local burger joints that I got when I purchased the Viking Cards from a pair of darling HS boys in my congregation. As I was showing the PTA folks the prizes, I explained that "as I love HS boys, I was a sucker for the stuff they were selling anytime they ask me."  Or something to that effect;  to that level of embarrassment.

*There must be a warning system in my brain that malfunctions and allows me to say unbelievably inappropriate things.  In front of other people.  All the time.

*It is a good thing most of the PTA folks are my friends, and understood what I meant, despite what I said.

* It is even better that the sweet HS boys of whom I misspeak regularly also understand what I mean despite what I say.  And so do their moms.

*Maybe this is a good place to stop for today.

Have a great weekend, friends.  And thanks for reading 800 posts thus far--even if it means that you must read between the lines to understand what I mean.

New Favorite Outfit

Today I wore a new outfit for my PTA meeting.  And I felt a little guilty about it.  It is so comfortable, it is like wearing pajamas. 

I know this photo is not the easiest to see, but the pants are chocolate brown and made of jersey knit...feels like PJs.  They might as well be yoga pants.  Love them!

The shirt is cotton, long, crinkly and plaid.  It covers all the jiggly bits I have and still doesn't make me feel like I'm wearing an Omar-the-Tent-Maker original. This look completely breaks my normal "uniform" outfit which is typically solid color t-shirt of some sort and sleeve length and a pair of jeans.

It is nice to shake things up once in a while.  Even better when I find those things on the clearance racks!

Wild Wednesday

I need to either find a time-turner, a la Hermione Granger, or clone myself at least until I can get the dang flux capacitor fluxing.  Too many things to do, and too many places to be all at the same time--or close to it.  I still have things on my list to do for the day, and don't even seem to have time today to cross things off that I did get done.  Thursday should slow to a run, and Friday might even seem mellow.

I can hope.

Who's Child Is THIS?

Yesterday, I picked up The Girl at what I thought was her lunch break--early day out really messes with me.  I took her to the Driver Licenses Division of the DMV.  I paid the fee, she took the test.

She passed and was given her permit.  On the way out the door I asked her if she wanted to drive us back home or go straight back to school.  She said...wait. Are you sitting down?  OK.  I'll wait. 

She said, "No, I think I'd rather learn to drive when there are no other people on the road."

Between my own guffaws, I told her that there will never be a time when no people are on the roads, and that she needs to just jump in with both feet.  That is how she will learn.

"No," she said again. "I don't want to have my first lesson when I have time constraints."

Oh, my goodness.  WHO is this girl?  She cannot come from my genetic pool, obviously.

Later yesterday afternoon--the weather was perfection itself, by the way--I asked her again.  "You want to have a lesson now while things are so great outside?"

"Nope.  I'm going do some stuff on the computer."

I cannot understand her.  I believe this might be the biggest generation gap we have yet experienced.  The Boy, meanwhile, is asking me from the other room if he could have his sister's lesson instead.  That might be the more difficult of the two issues here.

Fading Memories

Yesterday afternoon we enjoyed the beautiful weather by driving to a park in Provo where a few friends from my singles ward were meeting to celebrate one friend's 50th birthday.  Miss A was one of the elder stateswomen of our apartment complex back in the day, and it just seemed right to celebrate her milestone birthday.

The funny thing about it was I remembered so little of what reminiscences were brought up.  What was I doing those three years or so?  I know I went to school.  I had the same two roommates all but the last year I was there.  The last year I lived there, understanding I was engaged for a portion of the spring, student teaching, trying to graduate, and planning a wedding, I don't recall much at all.  But the years prior to that crazy semester should have stood out more, I would think.

Perhaps it isn't so much the memories of the days at Stadium Terrace, but the years that have passed since then.  Only one other of the girls that attended last night was married.  One is divorces, and the others never married.  My single life remembrances have been pushed aside in my memory banks to fit in the memories of my kids, my family, my life since then. 

That is not to say these other ladies haven't had lives since we all lived in the same apartment building.  But maybe they just had more room for memories.  I don't know the reasons, but they could recall names, faces, situations, pranks, events, and almost every other things that happened in that old place.

I could barely remember the names of the girls I lived with.  And there were only about eight over those few years.Oh well.  Miss A had a birthday bash, we reconnected and wished each other well.  Those were good times, to be sure.  But I am not going to need a refill on the memories of old for some time.  By then, I'll have forgotten what we talked about anyways.

Video Sunday

With The Girl taking Spanish 3 at the high school, and The Boy beginning his first semester of Spanish 1 this year in 8th grade, we have conversations in the house that sound like these a lot.  Well, maybe without quite so much "drama".  But we have cracked up as we watched these "soap operas for people who only had three weeks of Spanish".