**This post will be updated throughout the day, check back for new, fascinating items of information you didn't know you couldn't live without!
My Taxes Are Done!
Special thanks goes out to TurboTax and Past Me.
Do you have a Past You? I have a Past Me that is so awesome. She's usually pretty great about arranging items or collecting documents so that Future Me can finish tasks easily at a later point. The only problem with Past Me is that Now Me has problems remembering WHERE Past Me put things. I'm not sure whose problem that is, maybe it's just a lack of communication. Past Me always thinks that Future Me will have no problem remembering where the file folder is with all the tax documentation. Now Me has to search up and down to find that file folder. However, when Now Me finds that folder, there is much rejoicing because Past Me has been so thorough. I love that girl.
I present Conversations With My Three-Year-Old:
“Hey, clothes are popping.”
“Yes, it does sound like that. They’re in the dryer.”
“You wanna see clothes popping?”
“We can’t, the dryer needs to stay closed to work. Listen, we have a busy day today. You’re going to see your Tia and then ~J and Superstar.”
“Horses! Go for a walk, see horses.”
“Yes, maybe Tia will take you for a walk to see the horses.”
“Horses don’t wear pants.”
“Hey, Lightening McQueen!”
“My cocoa's stuck. Stuck in laundry. You wanna come see?”
“Look, cocoa stuck!”
He’s put his cup of cocoa in his laundry hamper. There is also a small bucket of spackle inside (?)
Furrowing his brow and feigning ignorance, “What’s that doing in there?”
“I don’t know, but I’m going to put it away right now.”
"I need more cocoa"
He sprays spit in my face.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm blowing on you!"
"Thank you, that's enough."
NO, That's Ok --
30 year old business man who got out of your Jeep Wrangler already using your Palm Pilot and stylus, let ME get the exceptionally heavy door FOR YOU. My fault, really, that I couldn't open the door even faster for you. Next time I will leave my purse, laptop bag and FETUS at home.
Last fall when we found out that due to missing one class Other Half would have to put off graduation from April to June, I was a little disappointed. Today, having discovered that one of the most evil, despicable, and vile humans to currently inhabit the earth will be speaking at the graduation ceremony, I don't know what to feel. Upset because now I can't attend the graduation ceremony legitimately and just boo and boo? Thrilled that my spouse won't have to say that slime incarnate spoke at his commencement? In case you think I'm kidding, all politics aside, I really and honestly do think he is wicked. He has a dark countenance.
I call La Professora and have to break the bad news to her. She is upset and vows to fight this from inside the university. "You can be sure I'll raise a stink!" she says. She then says I've ruined her afternoon.
La Professora offers historical perspective: "This is just like when they invited that corrupt Spiro Agnew to speak and he ended up resigning in scandal two weeks later."
I call the BYU Alumni Association to ask if my donations are going to support bringing Dick Cheney to speak at commencement. They do not know, but transfer me to a lovely lady in University Communications. I state the same question and she is not sure. I assure her that I know she doesn't have the line item budget saying where each donation goes. She laughs (you catch more flies with honey.) I then state my profound disapproval and disappointment. She says she will make note of my complaint. (Right.)
If you'd like to contact the Office of the President of BYU to register your comments (it would be marvelous to flood his office with email) then click here! Go write your comments! Nap time for this sciatically-affected girl.
I emerge from my self-imposed exile to find that Other Half has fed Guille brownies for dinner. Of course, he didn't MEAN for them to be dinner, it's just that when you feed a child something at 6:00pm, that usually means you just fed them dinner as they won't eat anything else. I toy with how I feel. One the one hand, it's brownies; they're not exactly paragons of a nutritious mealtime. On the other, they were made from scratch. I decide I mostly don't care. I nominate Other Half to pick up all the brownies pieces now decorating my living room carpet.
El Guille goes to bed without any stories and just one measly song. He learns the hard lesson that if you refuse to pick up your toys, hide under the kitchen table instead of minding, make teeth brushing impossible, pull on the curtains until the bracket comes loose from the wall, and tear the curtain clip from the curtain by force, there are consequences. He responds with weeping, wailing, and gnashing of teeth. We snuggle for a minute, learning the hard lesson, and then turn out the light.
From The Office of The President:
We are unable either to confirm or deny the reported story, so have no response at this time.
Assistant to the President
Wherein I Consider Changes to My CableThis is Ira Glass. Ira Glass hosts the best radio program, possibly ever, This American Life. After seven years they are making a TV show out of the radio program. The bad news is that it will be airing on Showtime. As I don't cotton to porn, especially inviting it open-armed into my home, I won't be subscribing to Showtime. I am sad that I won't be able to watch the show's medium transition to TV. I'm hoping for iTunes to rescue me. Hey, maybe buying a season over iTunes will be cheaper than subscribing to more cable. Plus side, I could toggle between radio show and TV show on my iPod. Down side, I could do nothing with my life but immerse myself in This American Life; maybe I'd get more dishes done.