…except for some damn cold/sinus thing.  I’ve essentially lost my voice because of all the crud dripping down my throat and I feel like week old warmed over meatloaf, yet I’ve still got to pack up and head North for Thanksgiving.

Fuck.

To top it all off, I had to run La Tahoe in to the mechanic yesterday for emergency work, as something was making noise (turned out to be broken sway bars) and I wasn’t about to drive up to Lake Erie (where it is said there will be snow) without my four-wheel drive.  Oh sure, it would be more fuel efficient to take Husband’s car (“Big Baby”) but he doesn’t have four-wheel drive, and we discovered something leaking out of it last night anyway.

I’m thankful my trusty car repairman was able to fit La Tahoe in on short notice.  I’m thankful I was able to get a ride home and that La Tahoe was repaired so quickly.  I feel better about making the trip.  Remind me, please, to take my car repairman a case of beer and a pack of smokes as a way of thanking him.

I’m also thankful that Son placed fourth in the fifth grade spelling bee yesterday.  The top ten kids from all the grades (fifth through eighth) and their parents will have a pizza party courtesy of the PTO (that would be me) and also move on to the “building bee.”  If Son does well there, then it’s the school district bee….then the county bee….then state…then, if he really spells his brain to mush, DC.  Can you imagine?  Well, I’m not pushing Son or getting wrapped up in this.  He’ll do as well as he’ll do and Husband and I are proud of him.  Son proclaimed his reluctance to visiting DC again anyway.  Huh, wonder why?  *giggle*

I’m thankful that Daughter got off the bus yesterday wearing the “Indian headdress” that she made at school.  Yes, apparently they still say “Indian” in school.  Daughter also regaled Husband and I with the story of the first Thanksgiving, although for a while I couldn’t figure out who “Squatto” was.

“Oh!  You mean ‘Squanto!’”

Husband told Daughter to tell Grandma Eiffel those stories, because Grandma Eiffel is very much into Native Americans.

Let me also say that while I feel like hammered shit, I’m thankful it isn’t the porcine ague. I’m also thankful that I was able to have two whole days wherein I did not have to go to the middle school for PTO business.  And that I got my hair done Saturday and my highlights rock.

So, for all my griping and bitching about having to pack up and travel, I do have things that I’m happy about.

Val Kilmer wears a “hat” to the AMA’s.

Jeezy Creezy, Ice.

I have been so busy with PTO stuff this past week and I apologize for my last post being a “feeling sorry for myself” rant.

I thought I’d only have two days where I’d be out of the house, but no, that turned into five, thanks to this raffle the PTO is going to be holding at two upcoming wrestling tournaments.  (Just in case any of you have anything you’d like to donate, e-mail me.)

I spent the better part of two days sitting at the middle school waiting for Mr. Principal Man to grace us with his presence.  Yesterday (Friday) all I needed to do was gather up spirit bracelets to give to another elementary school and I literally had to run all over the building looking for the principal so I could snag some of his bracelets.

Needless to say, nothing got done around the house.  Isn’t that remarkable?  All that laundry, all that cleaning…it’s still here, no matter how many other people live in the house.

I’ll say right here that I behaved myself at the district PTO meeting on Wednesday.  I didn’t mouth off to the superintendent, asked relevant questions, even asked about federal monies for our school district.  Spike went on and on about stimulus money and how the government puts stipulations on it, like it’s not to be used for teacher salaries.  Okay, that’s fine, but what about building maintenance, buses, textbooks, etc.

A run around.  Typical.

But you know it was on the tip of my tongue to say something like “Oh sure, Obama and/or Arne Duncan put stipulations on this money because they want all the little children to become Obamabots.  Mmmm, mmmm, mmmm…”

I did not say a word.  Just scowled.

And I started my Christmas shopping.

*ducks*

I know, but I just want to get it done and not have to go to that insipid mall anymore.

Oh crap…I just remembered that today is the day Santa arrives at the mall.  And I’m going up to get my hair done this morning.  SHIT!

Oh well….

This is it.  I’m officially freaking out now.

You know that Daughter has that tumor on her backbone and is taking ibuprofen for the pain.  Well, every night at bedtime I give her a dose to get her through the night .  One night over this past weekend I gave Daughter her ibuprofen at 8:30 P.M., right before she went to bed.

Now, to set this up properly, I have to tell you that I always leave another dose on the kitchen counter, next to the night light, so if Daughter has any pain during the night the ibuprofen is there and the whole house doesn’t have to wake up.  This has worked out quite well over these past few months.

That is, until Daughter woke up three hours after her bedtime dose and took another shot of medicine.

(Because really, those dosing cups remind me of shot glasses, and Daughter has become shockingly good at what looks like putting back a shot!)

Mind you, three hours after her last dose and she was complaining of back pain.

Husband said it’s entirely possible that Daughter is developing a tolerance to the ibuprofen.

So…what?  Increase the dose?  Risk damaging her liver sooner?  Decide to just have the surgery and raise another risk?

I’m angry and frustrated and just flat out pissed off.  I say again, why can’t I have this pain and deal with this?  Needles don’t scare me, I’ve had my life, just let me have the pain and the possible damage…or worse.

Goddammit, she’s just a baby.  This is the child who crawled at four months, and before that rolled across the room, and then figured out how to pull her baby body across the floor on her baby elbows.  And now she has a tumor?

I don’t mean to second guess or call the orthopedic surgeon’s skill into question, but what if?

I know, I’m burning bridges before I get to them, but this ibuprofen thing can’t go on forever.  It’s already been a year!

Ugh…

…or who have already poo-pooed James Franco’s decision to do some time at General Hospital, I give you this:

Yeah, it’s a soap opera, so what?  It’s work, the man is a working actor, so what’s the big whoop?

I read somewhere that those of us who watch such programming are apparently part of the “mini-van majority.”  Huh.  I don’t drive a mini-van…and so the fuck what if I watch this show?  Have you seen some of the other crap on TV these days?

By the bye…did you notice my daytime swooner in the promo?

It’s amazing how blogs have changed the way I watch the news.

For example, whilst watching Fox News this morning I heard about a Texas man who was attacked by a llama.

And you know when I heard that story I immediately thought of those pictured to the left.

Don’t piss these guys off, either, I’m telling you.  Remember that “llamas in hoopskirts” debacle?

What a great day yesterday was!  Cartoon Network had a Looney Tunes marathon and it was wonderful.  The kids loved it, too, and actually laughed.

Face it, these cartoons are so much better than the crap they have out now.

One of the ‘toons the kids like, and quoted all night:

Via Mr. Atoz, I found out that Johnny Depp has offered to help Nicholas Cage out of his financial woes.

While it’s true that I don’t know much about Cage and his money issues – face it, the only movie I ever really liked him in was Valley Girl – I think it’s nice that Johnny Depp wants to help Cage.

But…um…Johnny?  How about throwing a little of that dough my way?  You know, the holidays and all that.

Rowr…..

Thank you Wyatt Earp for directing attention to this blog post:

“Thank you former President George W. Bush and former First Lady Laura Bush“

Go.  Read.