Year: 2011

I wasn’t even sure if I was going to write anything because these last two days of school have worn me out. I’m not entirely sure why but I think it has something to do with my list of 853 things I’m trying to accomplish before Caroline is home for the entire summer. But today is officially the last day of second grade. Cue the hallelujah chorus even as I sit here slightly stunned that my baby is about to be a third grader. The only thing I have left to do is figure out how to get two gallons of Blue Bell ice cream up to the school in 106 degree heat for the end of the year class party without it turning into sweet milk soup.

On an entirely different subject, I wanted to clarify that, yes, that was an artichoke in the pot of crawfish in my post on Tuesday. Our friend William had the good sense to marry a girl from Louisiana and they are big believers in putting anything you can find into the pot of crawfish; oranges, whole garlic cloves, mushrooms, artichokes and the occasional squirrel. Except not really on the squirrel part. Although I bet it’s happened. And if you disagree with me it’s only because you’ve never been to Louisiana.

The bottom line is the artichoke was delicious. I ate it until I felt like my lips were going to burn off from the spice which is always the prime indicator of MMM, MMM GOOD when it comes to Cajun food.

Anyway, I just wanted to clear up the whole artichoke thing because several of you asked about it and I hated not to tie up that loose crawfish boil end.

In other news, Sophie and I tried to record a podcast yesterday. But remember last Monday when we posted our other podcast and I said I was going to call AT&T and get to the bottom of our internet issues? Yeah. I never actually did that because I suffer from an astonishing lack of follow-through on those types of things.

So since I couldn’t connect to any sort of bootleg wireless connection here at the house, I told her I’d just podcast from my car outside of Starbucks while I connected to their internet. Except when I got there the signal was too weak. And then I tried Borders, but there was too much feedback or something. Not to mention that I underestimated how conspicuous a person might feel wearing headphones and talking into a microphone in a very public parking lot.

Ultimately, it finally dawned on me that I was going to all this effort solely to avoid having to deal with the customer service department at AT&T. And it probably isn’t too much to expect for the wireless internet we pay for every month to work, but I just dread all that “Have you reset the modem? Have you jumped up and down three times and changed the flux capacitor on your computer? Have you danced with the devil in the pale moonlight?”

But I’d put it off long enough. I told Sophie I was going to head back home and face the music. Or Muzak as the case may be considering how long I might be on hold.

I called and pressed a myriad of buttons until I finally got a real person on the phone. She was very nice and tried to be very helpful as I explained that our internet goes out several times a day and I can’t connect to Skype or iChat for more than three minutes at a time before being cut off. I told her this was problematic because I need the iChat to do my job. However, I left out the part about my “job” being a podcast I do with my friend in Alabama where we talk about our hair and Friday Night Lights. I felt like I might lose some credibility.

We went through the whole reset modem/flux capacitor/change wireless channels/serial number of the modem and then she said, “Okay! I see you’re connected to the internet! Your problem should be fixed! Call us again if you continue to have problems, but it should all be better now!” The use of all those exclamation points left me skeptical, but I reluctantly hung up the phone and then I called Sophie so we could try out the iChat and see if it worked.

It did.

For forty-two seconds.

I wanted to call AT&T a bad name.

Instead, I googled the names of other internet providers in San Antonio and called AT&T back. After I re-entered all my information and pushed all the right buttons, I had another real life person on the phone. She asked me what the problem was and, bless her heart, was greeted with a tearful plea for assistance that lasted almost four and a half minutes and included the ultimate threat of breaking up with them unless they sent someone out to my house before the week is over. It ended with me whispering in a desperation, “Ma’am, I am sorry that you had to hear me like this but, please, I need someone to HELP ME. I JUST NEED HELP.”

Which probably explains why she talked to me throughout the duration of the phone call like she was a hostage negotiator. And I know ALL ABOUT hostage negotiators because I saw The Negotiator starring Kevin Spacey and Samuel L. Jackson back in 1998.

She realized the time for resetting modems and changing wireless channels was over and so she offered to send out a repairman on Thursday morning. They had a window available from 8 a.m. until 8 p.m. Really? Can we not narrow it down to perhaps, OH I DON’T KNOW, six hours instead of twelve?

Just for fun I think I might start scheduling appointments with people and telling them I’ll be there sometime between 8 a.m. and 8 p.m. and would they mind just waiting on me?

I opted for the 8 a.m. to noon window that was available for this Friday. We’ll see what happens.

But I have the names of four other internet providers on speed-dial just in case.

And I’m not afraid to use them.

I never want y’all to think my life is all glitz and glamour. Which is why I hesitate to tell you that I went to Discount Tire yesterday to get the tires of the stay wag rotated and balanced. Apparently it was vibrating. Of course I drive it every day and had never noticed that it was vibrating, but P drove it to church on Sunday morning and claimed that he could feel the vibrations in his legs.

Honestly, I was a little skeptical, but he insisted I needed to have the tires balanced and rotated since that was probably the culprit of the vibration. And so I drove there right after I dropped Caroline off at school yesterday morning and, I KID YOU NOT, the first question the tire guy asked me after I told him my husband claimed it was vibrating was “Are you feeling the vibrations in your legs or the steering wheel?”

I explained that I wasn’t feeling anything anywhere, but my husband felt it in his legs. This all seemed to make complete sense to the tire guy as he marked something on his chart. It must be some kind of super secret man knowledge.

And as exciting as I’ve found it to be to sit in Discount Tire and ogle all the displayed tires for an hour while they fix my car, I asked Gulley if she would pick me up and take me to Starbucks while all the tire magic happened. So she picked me up and we went to Starbucks and to get pedicures.

(My new favorite color is OPI’s Do You Think I’m Tex-y?)

(Yes, at least partly because of the name)

Then we went to lunch for good measure. We are way behind on our conversation time this month because they just spent a week at Disney World. I couldn’t mention they were at Disney World before because I operate under a heightened state of disclosing whereabouts and empty house paranoia. But now I can tell you they were at Disney World and Gulley will gladly admit that she researched this trip more than she researched having her first child.

Anyway, we ate lunch and then went our separate ways because it was almost time to pick up the kids from school. I stopped by my house and laid down on the couch for about ten minutes because going to Discount Tire is EXHAUSTING. (Actually, I’m in the midst of a bout of insomnia and haven’t slept well in about four nights) Well, I managed to fall into, as Caroline would say, DEAD SLEEP in those ten minutes and woke up with that WHO AM I AND WHERE AM I AND WHAT DAY IS IT kind of thing going on.

I headed to pick up Caroline from school and called Gulley on the way to tell her I didn’t think I could stay awake long enough to go see a movie later on. (The movie had been all my idea because I’m dying to see Bridesmaids, but then I saw our option was 9:55 AT NIGHT and what am I? A vampire?) While we were on the phone we continued a conversation we’d started earlier about our kids and their friends and wanting them to have a close group of friends as they grow older.

I said, “Well, they’re still so young. And, really, once they get to junior high it’s probably like that game where you throw a deck of cards into the air.”

Gulley was quiet for a minute until she asked, “What are you talking about?”

And I said, “I mean they’ll change and friendships will change and it will be like that card game or that thing people say about fruit.”

Gulley said, “Are you talking about a fruit basket turnover?”

“YES. THAT’S IT. Or maybe fifty-two card pickup. I couldn’t decide.”

This is why I need my best friend.

And also why I need to get some sleep tonight.

I’ll see y’all tomorrow. Hopefully I’ll have something more exciting to talk about than a trip to Discount Tire, although that’s hard to beat.

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If you don’t read anything else today, you have got to read this post by Shaun, A Magic Trick for Kristen. It will blow your mind.

So I took Memorial Day off.

But I kind of figured y’all knew that I would because I rarely post on holidays since I try to follow the same schedule as corporate America. I realize it’s been over three years since I worked for corporate America, but I always enjoyed the holidays and vacation so I’ll keep that part.

We have had some kind of busy holiday weekend around here. It was filled with friends and sun and fun and crawfish and sunscreen and felt like the absolute perfect kickoff to summer. Except that Caroline has to go back to school tomorrow.

Dear Texas Legislature,

The answer to this whole education budget crisis might be found if you didn’t insist on making kids go back to school for three days after Memorial Day in what is sure to be nothing more than taxpayer-funded babysitting. My best guess is you could save at least half a kajillion dollars in air-conditioning costs alone. Not to mention the fuel it costs to run the buses.

Sincerely,
Bitter in San Antonio

My plan was to start our holiday weekend with some big fun at the pool. I called Gulley and asked if I could pick up Jackson (Will was sick) and take he and Caroline to the pool on Friday evening. I had big plans of letting the kids swim until they burned all their energy and feeding them some stellar pool snack bar nachos for dinner. So you can imagine the disappointment when we showed up at the pool all sunscreened up and ready for BIG POOL FUN only to discover that the pool isn’t open on Friday nights yet. It was a crushing blow.

There was a lot of whining until the kids finally told me to be quiet and suggested we call Mimi and Bops to see if we could swim in their pool. In the end it all worked out, except there are no pool snack bar nachos at Mimi and Bops’s house but pool beggars can’t be choosers.

On Saturday morning we drove out to the lake to spend the day with some friends. It was around 165 degrees outside so it took us all of four seconds to jump in the water. I spent most of my time in the lake on some sort of float because it is my greatest fear in life to actually touch the bottom of any type of lake with my feet. And I just have to live in denial that the water is also home to a vast amount of fish. Let’s not even speak of the turtles.

Eventually we headed out in the boat to tube. P and Caroline went first.

And I thought it looked like a lot of fun so I decided to go next.

Which explains why I woke up Sunday morning feeling certain I’d been run over by a truck while I slept. My Pa-Pa always said, “It’s hell to get old” and Sunday morning confirmed that he wasn’t lying. My forearms are starting to cramp up even now as I type this out.

After all the tubing “fun” and my possible concussion, we all sat down and ate more crawfish than should probably be allowed in one sitting. There is nothing that feels more like summer than a day at the lake and a crawfish boil.

Sunday morning we went to church and then went to the pool later that afternoon for more sun and swimming. Our pool grill is under new management and the special of the day was ceviche. Which sounded so good except for the part about it being at the pool. I just have a lot of concerns and questions about the origins of the fish and freshness. Food poisoning is way down on my list of things I’d like to experience. Right after going on a paddle boat ride.

I asked one of our friends if he’d be willing to order the ceviche and call me at noon on Monday to tell me how it was, but he declined. I can’t imagine why.

Caroline’s friend, Ella, ended up spending the night with us and then we all got up on Monday, hung out in our pajamas for a while and went to the pool again.

And that pretty much sums up our Memorial Day weekend.

In fact, I might just set this post to repeat about once a week for the entire summer because, in case you’re new around here, that’s what our summers look like. We wake up and go to the pool. Except for the days when we go to the pool. And then there are the days when we go to the pool.

And now I’m off to get some sleep before I have to get up and pack the first of three more school lunches.

That just ain’t right.

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Compassion has taken another group of bloggers on a trip. They are currently in the Phillippines and I have already cried twice reading their posts. Make sure you read Shaun’s post, What Exactly is Compassion International?, if you want to know more about Compassion and how they help children all over the world. I also loved this post by Emily and this post by Kat.

Also, don’t forget to check out my latest post for the Real Women of Philadelphia Community. There are some great recipes to be found.