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Last night, we watched Time Bandits with the baby. He dug it, but we started the movie kind of late and I was debating with the husband, who was in the bathroom at the time, whether we should just let him finish watching it or stop and finish watching it the next night.

“It’s getting close to 9 p.m. What do you think?” I asked.

“*errrr…gruunnnnt…bathroom noises* Well, how much time is left in the movie?” he replied.

And here’s where the set up for the embarrassment that I would endure later happened. I looked at the DVD player and noted that it was 53 minutes into the movie. I looked at the DVD case and noted that the movie ran 118 minutes long. I tossed those figures around in my head and answered the husband:

“There’s about 25 minutes left!”

For the record, 118 minus 53 equals 65. About 45 minutes later, we’re in the midst of the showdown between Evil and the Time Bandits and I go, “Dude, what the fuck, I said that there was 25 minutes left and that was like 45 minutes ago.” The husband looked at me, confused, and asked how exactly I arrived at that conclusion about 25 minutes. So I got all snotty and said, “Well, duh, the movie was at 53 minutes and the total running time is 118.”

The husband’s eyes widened and he said, slowly, “Kelly…what comes before 100? 59 or 99?” I realized my mathematical error but luckily my 7-year-old whispered, “99,” to me. Thanks for lookin’ out, kid.

…

I have vague memories of something funny that I thought of last night and now it’s gone. But trust me, you would have laughed.

…

I got a little panicked this morning about this blog and how I haven’t been writing very regularly. I started to worry that I effectively killed it. But I remembered that I have that same worry every semester and I eventually get back into it and people eventually start being able to read what I write again.

I’m still clearing my throat, as it were, when it comes to this space. I’m amazed at how quickly I get out of shape for writing about myself. I’m of course still writing at MamaPop and We Covet, but about other people and things. So maybe I need some help. I’ll open the floor up for questions. Anything you want to ask me?

My paper is done. The accompanying presentation is done. I just have to look at both with fresh eyes in the morning for any glaring errors, upload them to Blackboard, give the actual presentation and that will be one more struggle under my belt. The other large-ish assignment was moved back a few days so that gives me some time to breathe and then next week is spring break. Of course, that means that I only have to work full-time and be a mom but seriously that seems like a vacation sometimes.

Anyway, with that major assignment pretty much done I will actually be able to hang out here some more! At least until finals start crushing my will to live but for now it’ll be just like old times! Remember when I used to post here more than once a week? Those were the days, eh?

But for now, I think we’ll keep things light and look at some of the notes I’ve scribbled to myself in the margins of my notebook:

“* talk to Heather”

Uh, okay, self. About what?

“* bring HW2 assignment, task analysis”

I totally forgot to do this.

“Pizza Hut”

Uhhhh. Then in the same margin as “Pizza Hut,” it appears as though I do a little word association:

“zone out
streets
fighter
baby
oscar
trailer park
gorgeous
bride
radio
head”

I think that might actually be the mathematical formula for Radiohead’s video for “Street Spirit,” but who knows.

There’s also this doodle that consumes the word association:

It’s like a…maybe a…It’s like my inner child was eaten by a coral reef or something.

Through some weird twist of the UPS fates, a bunch of stuff that we had been waiting on all arrived today:

1. A shiny new 750 GB hard drive so we can store all of our crap there and wipe our desktop Dell clean as it is moaning and groaning far too much for a relatively new computer.

2. A package from Amazon containing The Wire DVD boxed set, which I got on SALE (caps needed there) (thanks to Tracey for the heads up on that), a new transfer of Pieces, and…um…The 30 Day Shred. I caved to peer pressure, alright? Though I’m really not sure when I’m going to do that shit anyway.

3. New movie from Netflix: Paprika.

4. SNUGGIE!!!! OH MY GOD!!!! The husband’s grandmother got him one for Christmas. I don’t know if they were back-ordered or if it she bought it someplace weird but it finally arrived and my god is it a thing of beauty. I’m actually wearing it right now. I give myself two weeks before I’m just rocking it out in public.

5. This conversation from about 30 minutes ago:

*familiar music emanates from my laptop before quickly being silenced by me*
Husband: …
Me: …
Husband: Did you just get Rick Rolled?
Me: Shut up.
Husband: Dude, that’s sad.

I think, as an adult, I’m suppose to get all grumpy about the snow and gripe about how difficult it makes life, but I have to be honest. I love snow. When I was little, I can remember it snowing like this all throughout winter. Now it doesn’t seem to dump the white stuff like it used to, so I get even more excited about snowfall than I did when I was a kid.

The husband played at a club last night and I wasn’t feeling so great so I just stayed home. I ended up watching a couple older movies, namely For Keeps and Hackers.

I had seen For Keeps a couple of times when I was a kid. It was one of those semi-crappy movies that were on HBO constantly in the 80s. This was obviously before I was old enough to really get what was going on in it, but for being a rather melodramatic Lifetime-ish movie, it’s surprisingly bold in its depiction of an unexpected pregnancy and the frightening ways people behave when trying to deal with it. I’ve yet to see anything from pop culture that really accurately depicts how it feels to know that you’re in an icky situation with a pregnancy at a young age, and at the same time struggling with how impossible it is to convince everyone around you that you can make the right decisions for yourself. Juno came very close in many ways. I think both movies hit me in the gut most with some of the things people say to a woman when she’s pregnant and they don’t approve. It’s amazing how honest people get and how ugly that honesty is.

Hackers was another movie I hadn’t seen in years and it was almost painful in its 90s-ness. And it seemed entirely plausible that the people who wrote and directed the movie had never been in the same room as a computer. I nearly choked when they were drooling over a computer’s kick-ass 28.8 bps modem and the constant dubbing of people as 1337.

Errgh, I think I could probably replace this whole post with, “I’m a loser x300.”

Anyway, the Steelers play the AFC championship game in just a few short hours, then the new season of Big Love premieres, THEN The United States of Tara premieres. Just to illustrate how excited I am about those things, I’ll point out that I did nearly all of my reading for this week’s classes yesterday afternoon so that I wouldn’t have to worry about it today at all.

I’m feeling like Sophia from The Color Purple…wanna go somewhere. Can’t.

Wanna blog something. Passed out.

There are other forces keeping me from you, internet. Last night while dinner was cooking, I announced that I was going upstairs to post to MY blog, since the husband has been happily updating his all week. I flopped on my bed, opened my laptop…and of course the wireless was not working. So I said fuck it.

I’m pretty sure I’m in the midst of my annual, winter “hibernation-lite” mode. Sleeping is just so awesome. I swear, right before I pass out at night, I go, “Yay!” While we were on vacation, the husband and I got to sleep in a king-sized bed with an awesome (and very firm) mattress. I slept so soundly the whole time we were there. Our mattress at home is nice and firm, but is only a full-size, and this causes some strife. Mostly because I sleep in a position that could be described as…eh…Exaggerated Fetal.

The other night, I was already well into dreamland and sprawled out when the husband came to bed. The next day, the husband told me that he complained to me about my dominance of the sleeping area. And you know what I said to him? “I’ll move.” Like, totally asleep and dismissive and of course I didn’t actually mean what I said.

But that pretty much brings you up to date on me. I’m trying to play catch up at work this week before classes start back up on Monday. It took me three days to open my mail and go through email. So…yeah.

My dad started chemo on Monday and so far that seems to be going pretty well. He called to tell me he was starting on Monday on New Year’s Eve, while I was goofing off with Tracey and really in no condition to talk about things like cancer. I tried to play it straight and I think I did pretty well. But I was all:

What’s up, party people? I am in Rehoboth with Sweetney and Co. and right now everyone is off doing their own thang. The husband ventured to the main drag to check out the record store. The remaining adults are all internetting, and the kids are watching a movie and making high-pitched noises.

I was in the living room by myself when the beach house phone rang. I ran to answer it and had one of the most ridiculous conversations ever.

“Hello?”
“Hello, who is this?”
“This is Kelly. I’m…I’m here…and I’m…My name’s Kelly,” I answered, because really what other explanation does she need and she’s the one who called me anyway.
“Uh, so this isn’t _____?”

Now, here the woman on the other end, no doubt a little stunned by having to talk to TEH KELLY (like, seriously, why did she even have to ask who I am? She didn’t recognize my voice?), asked for someone…and I could have sworn she said, “Stephen Hawking.” And I told her that no, that person wasn’t here. I mean, I saw someone wheeling through the hall earlier with a vocoder, but I don’t think it was him.

At home we always get calls for Pottery Barn Kids. The first few calls were just annoying, and now I get all irritated with such callers, because why can’t they and their yuppie friends get the right number when seeking out their tasteful but overpriced children’s furniture? Gawd.

Anyway, here’s some pics of our one big activity so far: making our compulsory trip to Dogfish Head. We’ve spent the rest of our waking ours on the couch, though Tracey and I did throw down at the outlet mall today before our hungover asses nearly caused us to black out in Old Navy by the performance fleece.

The iPhone usage here is off the hook.

Hot wings. Perfect for a growing boy.

Shortly after taking this picture, I tossed these kids into a blender and made a cuteness smoothie. Seriously, is that shit not ridiculous? It’s a total survival mechanism because the whining is a little intense.

M daintily dabs at her mouth after eating some fresh souls.

I know it looks like I’m sitting on the couch in my pajamas and posting to my blog about something not quite earth-shatteringly important when I should be doing laundry and hacking a path through the Christmas debris that is littering our entryway, but it only looks that way to you because you’re high.

Anyway, a belated Merry Christnukkwanzaa to you, internet. I hope you’re having a lovely holiday week. Yesterday was fun, but very long, and I am still a tad exhausted today. We all got plenty of cool presents.

The baby seemed pretty happy with all of his stuff, despite not getting a D-Rex, which we said no to because a) it’s a $150 and this is not a $150 dinosaur kinda year and b) we weren’t convinced that he really wanted it. And, as it turned out, he didn’t mention it once since he did get plenty of rad presents and we kept telling him not to be disappointed if he didn’t get everything we wanted and that Christmas is more about hanging out with family (and eating) than presents. Moral lesson learned? Let’s hope so. Especially since I think The Lord must be communicating with me through my breakfast. Check it:

I was frying an egg and broke the yolk, because I hate dippy eggs, and it started looking like a fetus. That’s gotta be a sign, right? I should go buy canned goods and bottled water or something.

Alright, I need to get moving. But! I do want to say thank you to reader Emily from LA who was sweet enough to send me a book from my Amazon wishlist. Thanks, Emily! I read a few pages the other night and it’s crazily interesting so far!

The more I think back to the period of my life when I was about 20 – 21 and how I lived at that time, the more I realize what a weirdo I was…am…was. Shut up. Someday I’ll tell you more about it, but one thing I need to frame this post with is the fact that I was working nights during the spring and summer of 1999 and living alone and was therefore completely nocturnal. I would get home from work around 1 or 2 a.m. and then do the things that people normally do when they get home from work but it was all bizarro.

I would eat dinner, fire up the AOL on the ol’ 56k, smoke cigarettes, and watch public access shows. I often ended up watching the local death/black metal show (The Gallow’s Pit?) and frothing religious dudes, but occasionally I would catch some gems. This is not from PCTV, but it very well could have been. Gawd richly bless you.

Oh my god, I had a waitressing nightmare last night. I haven’t had a waitressing nightmare since…well, since I was a waitress. When I was slinging baskets of bread and water with lemon slices and panko-encrusted salmon, I used to have such nightmares all the time. They were always pretty terrific, too. Classic scenarios included suddenly becoming paralyzed from the neck down and crumpling into a pile in the doorway of the kitchen and getting bitched at by the fellow waitstaff for not getting the fuck out of the way, or forgetting about a table so long that when I finally remembered them, I would find the patrons had starved to death and that would come out of my tips somehow.

Last night’s horror was that I had to get a waitressing job because we were just SO broke (not exactly unrealistic, unfortunately) and my first table was an 8-top. Of course, I was kind of a shitty waitress even after I had been doing it awhile, but after 10 years of retirement I was a disaster. And, of course, the people were snooty assholes with bad kids. After I totally screwed up in every conceivable way, the man at the table made some remark about women not being able to do anything correctly because they don’t ever take on any responsibility…or some similarly vague sexist and condescending remark that was the culmination of all the little pieces of bullshit that I put up with from assholes on a fairly regular basis. I didn’t hold back though and told the guy that I was a fucking badass and listed all of the shit that I do well on a daily basis when all I had seen him do in the time we’d known each other was sit on his ass, complain, and judge.

It felt good, even if it was a dream. I’m all about having cathartic outbursts however I can get them.

Anyway, how’ve you been? I’ve been feeling pretty bad lately that I haven’t been writing here. I’m still constipated in a bloggy way. I can’t think of anything that I want to write about so in a way I guess it’s good that I had that ridiculous nightmare. I’ve generally been not very “here” when I’m on the internet. I can’t tell if it’s a cyclical thing or if I’m growing apart from this…place altogether. I used to spend an additional hour or two online at home in the evenings and now I barely touch my computer.

It’s been nice, though. I guess I’ve been kind of needing a break and surprisingly spending time away from here has been good for my head. I’m feeling generally very calm and able to handle things, or at the very least okay with NOT handling things. I have mental…stuff. I know this. And I can handle it most of the time. When I can’t, I won’t and it’ll be alright. It’s a very new thing in my world and I don’t know how I got here. I’ll take it, though.

I started this post the other day. Go ahead and read through and then I’ll meet you down at the bottom.

As I mentioned the other day, my semester is finally over. It’s a relief, sure, but I find myself uneasy about my final grade. But there’s nothing I can do about it now, so let’s discuss parties.

The baby had his birthday party this past Saturday and it was rather awesome. The Oaks Theater is available for parties so we booked that and showed one of the baby’s favorite Godzilla movies for him and his buddies. It was especially fun for the kids since they got to talk and giggle and wander around the theater during the movie. A taste of the forbidden! The guy at the Oaks also wrote a happy birthday message to the baby on the marquee, which was really cool for him to see.

It was a small group. The kids in the baby’s class don’t seem too big on birthday parties. But that was fine. Less noise, less stress, etc.

So, I highly recommend the Oaks for special events. I will note that it was a tad pricey (not surprising, really) and I’m thinking this will be our last big birthday party for awhile.

Of course, the baby started feeling crappy right as the party was ending and spent the rest of the weekend fighting off a nasty head cold.

I made cupcakes for the party, continuing in my deranged domesticity. Amber requested a picture of a cake wreck and I’m happy to deliver.

Those are chocolate cupcakes with mint icing, as per the baby’s request. I bought this pastry bag set the other day and it’s one of those crappy home baker sets, not a professional one. I don’t harbor any delusions that I am hiding a cake decorating superstar, but the pastry bag experience was rather frustrating. This is as far as I got the other day.

Anyway, yes, cupcakes. I went at them with the pastry bag set not really looking to make them fancy, but it just seemed easier to ice them with that than a butter knife or whatever I normally use. Not so much. But they tasted awesome.

AND I got my final grade for grammar and it’s an A minus. I’m not really sure how I pulled that off but I will so take it.

The title of this post refers to a story I was going to tell you about this yinzer baby shower I went to on Sunday and how I cleaned house during the loathed shower games. But it’s left me.

In fact, I am totally sapped of writing energy. I had an article due on Monday and I guess that and the usual end-of-semester meltdown have rendered me useless. I’ve been sparing you and subjecting the readers of MamaPop with my semi-coherent rambling. Lucky them.

Aaand I’m out of nothings to say. Instead, I’ll leave you with this clip from Sade’s Lovers Live DVD, which we started to watch last night and were stunned by it’s awesomeness.