kdiddy.org

A quick question before I start, though. Is like, the King of Live Journal? I'm just wondering. I mean, I can see that the guy is very funny, but what's the whole story there?
Alright, down to business…

The American public school system:
The boyfriend and I had a discussion about this at the Stable Pit N Pub in Conneaut, despite my apparent exhaustion. I know that the state of the public schools is a nationwide issue, but it's been an especially touchy subject among parents here in Pittsburgh. There have been a great number of controversies within the school board. As a result, our public schools no longer have the strong reputation that they had even seven years ago when I graduated. Since I'm not really close to anyone who has kids currently in the system, I wasn't sure just how dire the situation was. My dad had told me that even if I was vehemently opposed to sending the baby to a Catholic or non-denominational private school, I might have to do just that. I pointed out to the boyfriend that we had both received excellent educations during our time at Schenley High School. The thing is, as he reminded me, we were both in “gifted” programs. Despite his fondness for Schenley, he admitted that if you're not in one of the special programs and are just trodding along in the mainstream classes, it's really kind of a joke. He insisted that he wasn't worried about the baby's education, citing his belief that our son would most likely be in one of the programs. I told him that he couldn't be sure of that, which turned into a discussion about the nature-nurture debate. We came to some agreement: while public education in America needs and deserves to be pumped full of funding, it really does come down to the student and the parents to ensure that a child receives the best education possible. For both of us, school didn't exist in some building from 7 to 3. It was all around us at every possible minute. Our parents made sure that we were constantly learning and that only served to help us. I can only hope that we are serving our son that well.

yawn.

I think that's all that I can really tackle for tonight.

I attempted to join , but was apparently rejected. I'm pretty bummed, because that means that my journal sucks. Drag.

Issues that I want to discuss with…myself in the coming hours but don't have the mental capacity to deal with at the moment:

The American public school system, tying into where I will be sending my son to school

White men: the new victims (gag. I've been stewing over this due to that show on Comedy Central, Tough Crowd with Colin Quinn. It was on last night and that issue was brought up briefly. Also, I've had many mind-boggling conversations with my dad, who, I guess, recently declared himself a misogynist and my grandfather, an enigma unto himself.)

Feminism: what the fuck is it, anyway? Sidebar: women as conservatives

My complexion: how is it possible to go through puberty again at my age?

Random things about marriage, parenthood, gender roles that have been bothering me lately.

My mom: what's up her ass? Sidebar: maybe it's my complexion that's throwing things off but we seem to currently have a relationship eerily similar to the one we had when I was about 16.

Okay, I do actually have stuff that I need to write today and I've managed to accomplish nothing since I woke up 6 hours ago.

just one gushy mom post for today.
The baby had a weird nap today. He fell asleep in the car on the way back from the piercing place and instead of risking waking him up by taking him out I just unhooked the carseat and carried him inside in it. He slept that way until about 6:30, which is pretty late for him. Anyway, when he woke up he was alright for a few minutes and then just got really pissed. Screaming, crying, slapping (not me, thankfully), being miserable. I comforted him with some Cheese Nips for a few minutes while I cooked him some dinner. He didn't seem to want to sit in his booster seat so I got this foam mat and put it on the kitchen floor. We had a little indoor picnic dinner. He ate all of his fish but insisted on sharing a few bites with me and then we fed each other peas. It was too sweet for words.
Like I said before (but did not elaborate) I was having a pretty depressed day. It's truly amazing that when the baby and I have those little moments just to ourselves, doing something simple like eating peas, everything is perfect. Just perfect.

On a totally unrelated note, I think that people who have the word “bizkit” in their LJ user names need to be beaten.

I wrote an entry a few hours ago saying simply, “What's Live Journal's damage?” When I went to view my updated journal there was only that entry and the layout had reverted back to the default view, whatever it's called. I thought for sure that in all of the hubbub that was going on today with LJ that my journal had been completely erased. Nightmare. Luckily it seems to be restored and in good condition.

I had kind of a shite day. For some reason my mind was churning up all of these issues and depressing thoughts and I was having a really hard time dealing with them. I may go into detail later. Right now I don't have enough energy to really hash it all out.

I finally got a new nosering today. I would post a picture but my little faux-digital camera doesn't have a flash. Since it's night here…well you know.

Only other thing that I want to address right now: went into labor yesterday and is probably a new mommy as I type this. How exciting! I hope everything is well with you and the new little sprog, dear. I can't wait to read all about it.

It seems every few years I go through this cycle where the relationships that I have with people online are stronger than most of the relationships that I have in real life. It's kind of a lonely time right now. I hope it ends, soon.

I have to take my contacts out before they drive me crazy.

The Internet is playing dumb again. I might have to slap it around.

I just finished the crappiest cup of coffee ever. Anyway, I slept in very late today and what's even more bizarre is that the baby let me. When I went into his room to get him he was just chilling, playing with his stuffed puppy and squishing around in a poopy diaper. Very odd. I bet he's smoking pot. In any case, I get this sneaking feeling that I'm not going to get any real work done today. That's partly due to the fact that I'm all discouraged about the PG situation. No, I haven't called to find out the real deal yet but I just don't feel like it.

Hmmm…

In this, my first real entry since I've been back, I feel like I should tell you all a bunch of amusing anecdotes about my time in Conneaut but I just can't get it up. I will tell you this little tidbit:
One evening the boyfriend and I went to this goofy barbeque restaurant called the Stable Pit N Pub. Lots of Aqua Net, lots of wood panelling. Sitting there I kind of felt like I was in a Coen Brothers movie. When the waitress, a perky blonde of about 18, came up to our table the conversation went thusly:
Her: Hi, guys, I'm *blahblahblah* and I'll be your server tonight
Us: Hi
Her: Can I get you anything to dr–*stops dead in her tracks when she looks at me* Wow! You look soooooooooo tired!
Me: *blink blink* Uh, thanks.

Also during that week my godson told me that I looked like a maid (I was sweeping the kitchen floor after letting him and his 5 brothers make messes for 3 days) and his father told me that I looked like a peasant. I think all of these comparisons can be traced back to my tendency to wear my do-rag, regardless of the setting. In any case, I'm feeling not so hot.

Ugh, the baby is intent on getting injured. I have to go intervene.
Later.

I've just noticed a lot more spider veins and the early stages of varicose veins on my legs. Gross. I'm going to have to start wearing those huge, thick, brown panty hose that the old ladies wear and stuffing my swollen feet into Easy Spirits.
Woe.

Bake Sale Hotness with Liz

Edit: I meant to say that this is a picture of Liz and I being out of place at Club Havana a few weeks ago. It was taken by another, intoxicated, Kelly, who refers to us as the Bake Sale Ladies due to our domestic, non-clubber natures.

That was just one of the clever bumper stickers that I saw during my time at Conneaut Lake.
So, to be blunt, my vacation was ass.
It rained…torrential downpours…every single day except yesterday and today.
I had diarrhea. a lot. Sorry.
Our big activity was going to Wal*Mart. I can't explain how much that sucked.
I got home fully expecting a phone message or an email from the guy at the PG. Nothing. I'm crushed.
It wasn't all bad, but it was most certainly not relaxing or restful or whatever a week by the lake is supposed to be.
Right now it's just me and the baby. The boyfriend got a new (old) car today so we're eager to see that.
Uhhh, I don't know. It's been so long since I've been on the internet or a computer that I'm still fascinated by the sound of the keyboard. It's kind of distracting.
fart.

Went to Ray's last night. It was boring, which figures since last week when I didn't go it was “bangin'” according to the 8 million people who IMed/phoned me the next day to rub it in my face. I had one cocktail and then brought me a Jello shot. Yeah. It tasted good (watermelon Jello) and gave me that “Oh-my-gawd-I'm-17-I-bet-I'll-get-all-crazy-and-drunk-from-this” feeling. It did make me a little tipsy which I was embarrassed to admit.
But I can't really talk too long today. I'm going to be leaving in a few hours and still have a ton of stuff to get together.
See yinz in a week!

So, I'm just sort of waiting for it to get dark. I gave the baby his bath and everything already. He didn't take a nap today so I figured that he would be ready to go to bed soon. However, since it's still relatively light out he just sort of gives me a confused look whenever I suggest sleep. I'm just letting him play around now, which is totally fucking with his routine. I'll probably regret this in the morning. Oh, well.

I had to go to Eckerd earlier to buy diapers and refill my prescription. While I was there and since I had coupons for wipes and a Swiffer duster I decided to fill up on some other stuff, too: baby soap, film, condoms…and therein lies the story. Now, before you get all “If you're too embarrassed to buy them then you shouldn't be having sex,” I'm not embarrassed but it's still a somewhat uncomfortable situation when you're not in a condom-specific store and there's grandmothers nearby.
Anyway, while I was waiting for my prescription I got the other items on my list and did what I'm sure Eckerd employees must see a thousand times a day…The Condom Waltz. Cleverly enough, Eckerd has the condoms displayed at the end of the Baby Needs aisle, right next to the pregnancy tests. The fact that I had my son with me added another level of juxtaposition that was too cutesy for words. On my way out of the Baby Needs aisle I glanced at the condoms but there was a disapproving old lady standing nearby, so I moved on. Once more around, peered a little closer but there was a sniggering teenage boy…probably contemplating the same purchase. Move on again. Up to the front of the store for film and back. Cha cha cha. A couple is standing by the condoms teasing each other about them. Barf. Over to the cleaning products and back. This time I figure, “Who cares who's looking? I need to get out of here,” and grab a pack, ending the Condom Waltz. Pick up my prescription and head to the counter. The cashier is probably in her late 60s and has Lucy-red hair. Who go through all of the coupons and whatnot. She picks up the condoms and says, “Are these yours?” I can't help but blush. Why? I don't know. I mean, it's very obvious to everyone present that I have had sex at least once. She then tells me the exciting news: “Condoms are buy one, get one this week!” BOGO rubbers? Holy shit. I blush even harder which I think she gets a kick out of and tells me that after I've paid and everything I can just go back and get another pack. Rawk. I pay, pack up the stroller and she says, “Don't forget to get your other pack of condoms!” Thanks. I turn around and at least a dozen people are staring at me, no doubt thinking, “Wow, she must be planning on doing a lot of fucking.” I do an extra variation on the Condom Waltz, grab another pack and head for the door. As I pass by the alarms I'm struck with paranoia: “Oh my god. What if these have a sensor in them? I wonder if it looks like I stole these on the video camera.” Because really, the last thing I need at this point in life is to get picked up for shoplifting condoms. I would NEVER hear the end of it. (Um, Mom, can you come pick me up from the police station?….Shoplifting….condoms….Yeah.)
Luckily, the alarm did not go off.
But on the way home a pigeon came *this* close to shitting on me.