Can I turn in this blog for class?

I’ve said it before but it apparently bears repeating- I apologize for the once-a-week bloggin’. I have no idea what’s going on in my mind; the part that takes care of good ideas and sentence phrasing is drooling in the corner of my right brain. And lest you think it’s just the fanciful and fun writing that’s suffering- OH NO. The course at Chicago Dramatists that’s costing roughly half a month’s rent is being exposed to my lazybonesness as well. It’s an advanced playwriting class geared towards, you know, finishing a play. And when they asked for my scene last night? I nervously shrugged and tried to change the subject, reminding me harshly of my third year in a row taking pre-Algebra. 

So there you go. And now, random bits of everything that have caught my eye:

I’m hardly an outspoken political activist by any means, but I couldn’t resist repeating some of these gems from ‘Parenting Magazine’ (which I am currently reading from underneath a dining room table, having just swaddled every Sesame Street character in towels as patients in a baby hospital.) Now ‘Parenting’, not to be confused with some of the better child-rearing rags- such as ‘Parents’- makes up for their lack of content by polling their readers on every other page. This month’s Mom Debate- “Which candidate would you trust to watch your kids, Barack Obama or John McCain?” (When would this situation possibly arise? Way to ask the nation’s vital questions, ‘Parenting’.) Anyway. Two of my favorite McCain responses are as follows:


“He has the family values I look for in a caregiver.”  (As in, he’s white? I know you don’t mean his rockstar marriages.)

“My kids love spending time with grandparents and grandparentlike people, probably because they let them do whatever they want.” (Oh my. That’s an uplifting thought for the country!)

And the best tip from this issue’s section on easy fixes: too busy to treat yourself right during your (actual phrasing–>) “monthly misery?” A no hassle cure- acupuncture!

Thanks, “Parenting!” I’m too busy to pop an ibuprofen and heat an herbal neck wrap, but I can totally hop on the eL and find someone to pincushion me. (I believe we have different ideas on what “no hassle” means.)

And Kate gave me this amazing bit of actual news from a small paper in Boston: next to stories about muggings, car accidents and that ilk was a story about a forensic team that had to be brought into an office building. Apparently a bizarre white powder was found sprinkled on the desks and people, naturally, panicked. Upon further examination the powder was found to be a combination of ground pumpkin seeds and tree bark. Why? A co-worker wished to bring love, protection and good health to the office. Of course! (I’m kinda wondering why it was white. Maybe it was birch bark. Hey, have you ever had birch beer? Yums.) So, thanks Kate! The hard news can literally be found anywhere these days.

And happy birthday this past Monday to my favorite husband. We had an awesome time with his folks, a few friends, copious amounts of Turkish food and more than one man singing along with the stereo. At 3am. We are still awaiting the arrival of his birthday present in the mail- Rock Band for Wii with the guitar, the mic, and yes, the drum kit. (So the next 3am party will be even louder!) And happy birthday TODAY to Ajay! (Unless he’s given up reading this blog in favor of ones that actually post items.) But on the assumption that he’s still a loyal reader- HAPPY BIRTHDAY! 

All these October birthdays…lotsa people’s folks must’ve been feeling snuggly in February. It is mighty cold.

And not to jinx it or anything, but we MAY have found a condo. That’s all I’m saying. (Except for the fact that it’s 2200 square feet of vintage detail, there’s a maid’s quarters which will be someone’s office if she ever has anything to write, four bedrooms, three baths and a living room big enough in which to play tennis- Wii or otherwise.)

AND, if I were the ‘saying too much’ type, I’d mention that the address is 1227 (27 is P.J.’s lucky number) and he just turned 27. Plus, the storage unit locker number is 42. I won’t insult you by explaining that one. 

Remember when I asked who’d come up to Jefferson Park? Well, uh…how do you all feel about Rogers Park? 

I’ve said too much.

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