Note to self:
Deciding that since you're awake at 1 am anyway, you might as well be doing further research into the link between environmental pollution and chronic autoimmune illness, is an extraordinarily bad idea.

My memory is getting worse as I get older - this is true for most people, but I'm still only 27 (28 in about 2 weeks). I find that I can't remember 90% of what I studied even in college courses I took a couple years ago. When I was in elementary school, I tested as having a genius-level IQ, but now I doubt I'm even above average at all. I wonder: is this lack of retention because I spent too many of my teenage years and early 20s partying? Is it because I attended schools where I was never taught how to study correctly? Or is it the cumulative effect of years and years of dioxin exposure at levels hundreds of times above the US average? What is all this dioxin exposure doing to me anyway, besides obviously affecting my fertility? What happens to Adam as he's getting a steady transfer of my lifetime's worth of dioxin exposure through my milk? I should've never had those toxicology reports done, they confirmed everything I already suspected about what happened as a result of growing up so near to Dow. My blood contains more than 300 times the safe amount of dioxin. What is this going to do to me? I'm offloading a lot of it onto my baby while nursing, so that decreases my cancer risk somewhat, but it's no wonder I've been so fucking sick this past year, what with all those stored chemicals being released into my body as I breastfeed. In my town of 30,000 people, I personally knew 8 kids who had leukemia as I was growing up, including the little girl I babysat for - this is so far above the normal rate of leukemia and I just wonder if my kids are going to end up one of them. I haven't called Lisa in almost 2 years now because I don't want to hear that her daughter died of leukemia, I don't think I can handle it and I hate myself for wanting to spare myself bad news more than I want to offer support to someone I used to be close to. By the time Adam was 6 months old, he had already been exposed to the lifetime so-called "safe" limit of dioxin through my milk (this is true for any breastfeeding mother, so it was probably more so for me since I was exposed to so much more growing up and therefore have so much more stored in my body). What effects is this going to have? I feel like I am a walking time bomb, I don't know what's going to happen. In the past 6 years I've just gotten sicker and sicker and illnesses caused by chemical exposure don't usually get better. Whether you get cancer is the luck of the draw. Will I be around to see my kids grow up and maybe bless me with grandchildren of my own? Will I live a normal life span and just feel like shit? I finally realized a year or two ago that I am never going to feel better - the constant feeling like I'm shaky won't ever stop, the headaches won't stop, the chronic nausea won't stop, my cycles will never become normal, I'll probably never be able to regulate my moods, the pain in my extremities won't go away. This is who I am and what I have to live with and it's fucking depressing. Will my kids feel like this someday, since they grew inside my body and drank my milk? Did I just pass a lifetime of illness on to them? Will I ever be able to change the world and convince people to stop demanding products made with these chemicals, will I ever be able to scream and stomp my feet and yell loud enough to make chemical companies like Dow (though they're far from the only one) realize that if they kill off all of the human race, there would be nobody left to buy their fucking products anyway? Not that it would matter to them of course. I think about the fact that the world is so polluted, our bodies and food and water supply tainted beyond repair, and don't see much hope. The earth will someday recover, I think - it has from other great catastrophes, though it must be noted that the others were natural disasters rather than man-made. But future generations, should there be any, will look back on us and our fall the way we look back on the fall of the Roman empire. Modern Western civilization just wants money, no matter who is destroyed in the process. I guess the leaders of government and big business figure that the earth will still be inhabitable for them for at least the remainder of their own lifetimes, so it's more important to make as much money as they can and forget about the fact that they are slowly poisoning the entire human race. The air is poison, the animals are poisoned, our food is poison, our water is poison, our body has these poisons absorbed systemically throughout. The quest for money destroyed the human race and I really can't even get into the mindset of the people who felt this was ethical or justifiable. I hope I never do understand.

This is just fucked beyond belief. How cheery, huh? Now it's 1:45 and I *still* can't sleep.

 
Mega fluff:
My sister and I both have minor obsessive-compulsive (OCD) tendencies, and it drives our mom crazy if we mention this. Actually, Joseph Campbell says that most people in industrialized Western societies have OCD tendencies, because it's an unconscious attempt to compensate for the lack of rituals in modern life. But anyway, today I sunk to a new low of all obsessive-compulsive actions: I scraped soap scum off the shower caddy. Oh yes, I really did. This was no brief swipe over it with a sponge either, it was detailed freaking scraping. I have sunk to a new low. Does it make it better that we're having some realtors preview the house tomorrow morning and that's part of why I did it?

My mom called today and just said she hadn't returned my call or email in so long because she had to work (she never works longer than a 5 hour shift) and keep up with her regular housework and go to doctor's appointments. So she isn't even mad - as far as I know, at least - and I worried for nothing. Instead she is exhausted by her really busy schedule. She's not even 50 yet, but having a dentist appointment is apparently so exhausting to her that she can't do anything else the rest of the day. I hope and pray that I have way more energy than that when I am 47.

Nice resolution department: I had one loser buyer at half.com leave negative feedback for me because the post office damaged their package during shipment, and rather than contacting me to get a refund, the buyer decided to ruin my previously perfect seller rating by saying I did a shitty job on the packaging. I'm very happy to say that a few people have ordered things from me since and they all left positive feedback, one of whom even commented that it was packaged well. Heh heh. So now my seller rating is back up to where it used to be. Selling some of my books on half.com has been a really good way for me to get extra cash these past few months. I don't think I would've been able to buy Christmas presents for people without it, and it paid for my ticket to the Live concert in November. Yay!

Speaking of buying used stuff online, I won another Strawberry Shortcake rag doll on ebay today. I am trying to slowly collect them and only do it when I have enough money in my Paypal account (and don't need the Paypal cash for groceries), but I have a price limit I absolutely won't go over. This one (Apricot) makes my third rag doll; I already have Raspberry Tart and Apple Dumpling. If I got insane with the Strawberry Shortcake collection like some people do, I would spend thousands of dollars and have too much junk cluttering up my house, so I'm limiting myself to just the rag dolls and the original vinyl dolls. I still cannot believe my mom threw away all my Strawberry Shortcake stuff when she moved out of the old house - though I suppose it was really my fault for not taking it with me when I got married. If I still had my collection, it would be worth a fortune. Of course I never had Plum Pudding when I was a kid and I have now decided that she's my mascot because she's the geek girl, but I absolutely cannot afford one on ebay as I have never seen one go for less than $75 and I just ain't spending that on a stupid doll. I don't know why I had to choose such a dorky yet expensive thing to collect.

 
Update on Logan and the quest to attend school:
He has decided that he no longer wants to attend school, after all. I think the real shift came when I told him that once we're in Michigan, we will know people there and he will have kids he can play with. I told him that Jill will be there and he can play with her daughter Jordan, and Adam can play with her daughter Emily, and he was so excited. He asked me for a backpack to sweeten the deal and I agreed, and I think that was all he wanted. I know that someday the desire to go to school is going to crop up again, but at least now I have a little practice dealing with it. I don't really know what I'll do if the day comes when he really does want to go to school, period. I believe in following my kids' cues and I don't know if I'd want to hold him back from exploring it, but I really don't think I'd feel comfortable sending him to school before he was at least 10. Everything I've heard, especially with regard to boys, is that the ages between 5-8 are the most vulnerable for children's personality development and I really don't want my kids to be in an institutionalized school environment during that period. Right now Logan is really confident and sensitive and I really love who he is, and I'm so afraid of exposing him to a "Lord of the Flies" environment with other kids and having that change his personality. So for now, the school thing is resolved. And I'm glad, because Dirtwitch's comments about the Waldorf school definitely made me think twice. The ideal school may be non-existent for us, at least in any of the areas we ever plan to live.

We watched the movie Office Space yesterday - it's a couple years old, but it was one of the funniest damn movies I have ever seen. If you've ever worked in an office, so much of it rings true. There's an absolutely hilarious scene where they take one of the frequently malfunctioning printers into a field and smash it to bits, and do so to a soundtrack of gangsta rap - oh my God, I was dying. What a fun movie.

 
Snarky comment of the day, from something observed in the grocery store: there is a new brand of disposable diapers that are red, white & blue called "Little Patriots". There is SO much wrong with this concept that I'm not even sure where to begin. First of all, it does seem oddly fitting that a way of showing patriotism would be buying disposable products - what better tribute to the American way, right? Furthermore, are people really so stupid that they will fall for this marketing gimmick? Wait, I know the answer to that, and it lies in my archives: the same people buying the patriotic diapers are those who have 7 flags on their car. But most of all, I cannot stop laughing about the concept that these patriotic diapers are going to be pooped in. Let's teach our babies to show respect for the flag by pooping in something decorated like the flag - what a great idea!

Adam's favorite things in the world (alas, patriotic diapers are not on the list because he wears cloth):
*pulling up on the stove and turning the oven light on and off repeatedly
*grabbing raw potatoes from the pantry and taking a bite out of them before anyone notices, then putting them back
*chewing on socks
*unrestricted penis grabbing
*throwing food overboard from his high chair tray to signal the end of mealtime
*"dancing", which consists of wiggling his butt if he's standing or kicking his feet rhythmically if he's lying down
*turning the TV on and off repeatedly, especially if people respond by getting up and turning it back off when he turns it on
*pulling all the books off the bookshelf then mixing them around until all the book jackets fall off and get crumpled
It is amazing how many of his favorite games were Logan's favorite games at the same age, too.

Logan's favorite book is Click, Clack, Moo: Cows that Type and he is attempting to learn to read it himself, which is very exciting. More troubling is that he likes us to act out the book, which means invariably that he gets to be Farmer Brown, and J, Adam and I are cow, chicken and duck respectively. When we're playing the game, he asks me a question but if I answer him, he reminds me that ducks do not talk and I should be quacking instead. *sigh*

I have decided that when we go to Ann Arbor, I'm going to try to get a part-time job writing a column for one of the alternative weekly newspapers in the Ann Arbor or Detroit area. Alternative weeklies don't usually require a degree to work for them, and I really think I can do this! By now I'm getting enough publishing credits that I can just take in some of my clips to show them and let my work stand on its' own. I feel very confident about my ability to do this, but in the meantime, I'm going to try to get more publications so my clip file is bigger.

I talked a lot to J today about what to do regarding the situation with my mom, and I have decided that I simply have to stop expecting that I'll ever be able to make my parents happy. I am going to start challenging the things they say that I don't agree with, and I'm going to stop living my life in fear of their disapproval. I think this is going to be a long, gradual process, but it's long overdue. My sister has never hid much about her life from my parents, nor tried to make decisions based on their approval, and she certainly hasn't been shy about telling them what she really thinks. And for a while, my mom was really unhappy with her, but she got over it. I think I can do the same, though it will probably come as a shock to both my parents and me since I've been so docile for almost 28 years. I'm going to be polite while I'm staying in their house, but after that I'm going to start speaking up for myself. They can't hurt me anymore unless I let them, right? My childhood is over, I have absolute freedom over my own life. We'll see what happens once I actually put this into practice. I hope things will be better, but I have no guarantees. But facing their disapproval head-on and allowing conflicts to happen instead of desperately trying to avoid them will mean that I will face my fear, and one way or another I'll be free.

 
Something for everyone (except for people who like short posts, who surely by now have given up on my blog) in this blog entry!

I spent a good deal of my online time today at this website about the contrast between rich and poor in America and the world as told in pictures and it's a really moving, though disturbing, website. If you feel up to thinking about something heavy, I can't recommend this enough. But it makes me want to do something, and I've felt too exhausted since Adam's birth to be much of an activist. He's a year old though - I can't keep using the "just had a baby" excuse to justify not doing important things anymore. I imagine that once we get to Ann Arbor, I'll get involved in activism a lot more again since there's a lot of it that takes place on the U-M campus. On a note totally unrelated to socioeconomics, I have to say that I'm really looking forward to the opportunities in Ann Arbor. Today J found out that there are the following in Ann Arbor that I may be interested in: not one, but 3 Buddhist temples (one specifically Zen); an unschooling group; a midwifery training school; and several vegetarian groups. I think we've picked the right place. :) But after viewing that website and getting a strong reminder of the depths of poverty even in our own country, I'm going to shut up about the frustrations of not having a second car or not having money to enroll Logan in music and gymnastics classes. Just the fact that I get to choose where I want to live and will be able to make it there, even if we have to rent a relatively cheap place, means that I still have a hell of a lot of options in life and am nowhere near as poor as I sometimes think I am when I'm feeling sorry for myself. Feeling sorry for myself when I had money to buy some organic shampoo today shows that my perspective has been a bit out of whack.

On a lighter note, I went to rent a movie today (American Pie 2 - hey, it was J's request) and I decided it would be fun to make a little list of the kinds of movies I like and don't like. I'll readily admit that I'm not much of a movie buff - I see less than 20 movies a year and all of them are on video; I've only been to the movie theatre once in the past 5 years and it was a waste of money in my opinion. But anyway...without further ado, here's my movie preference list:

10 Best Movies I've Seen
*Memento
*Dogma
*Clerks
*Fight Club
*The Matrix
*SLC Punk
*American Beauty
*Pulp Fiction
*American History X
*Roger & Me
Probably in two hours I will think of other movies that I like more than one or two on this list and change it, but this is what comes to mind quickest. Generally, I like really well done sci-fi (note that this does not include Star Trek, which I think sucks ass royally), dark movies, things that make me think, mysteries/suspense (but again, this has to be well done; if it stars Melanie Griffith or Kim Basinger we can pretty much guarantee that it is NOT going to be well done). I love love love any movie having to do with the punk scene. I also have a love for movies with a lot of gratuitous but woman-friendly sex scenes, and movies that have quirky, dark humor. Quirky dark humor does not mean Adam Sandler or Jim Carrey, both of whom I despise. Kevin Smith is more my style, though he's not really that dark in my opinion. I like pretentious indie films in general, especially if they feature Christina Ricci or Natasha Lyonne. I love Drew Barrymore films, even though the movies themselves are usually awful. She's just so damn cute.

The kinds of movies I hate most:
Romantic comedies, especially really predictable ones. Exception usually being John Cusack, whom I love, but not enough to rent Serendipity because it looks predictable and lame. I hate movies where the product placements are really obvious. I hate cliched "happy ending" movies. I really really hate overhyped movies like Titanic and Forrest Gump. I boycott them until the hype dies down, then finally convince myself that I've just been a snob and watch it, only to discover that I was right and the movie sucked. I hate movies with female music stars or models deciding to "break into acting", though I may someday rent Mariah Carey's Glitter when it is no longer a new release. I think Glitter would be really freaking hilarious to watch if I had a couple of strong margaritas first. Caveat being that I couldn't watch this movie on a day when I was depressed, because rather than cheering me up, I think it would make me feel far more depressed about the state of the world to think that someone so talentless and psychotic has millions of dollars while I should clearly be queen of the world based on writing talent but earn in a year what Ms. Carey earns in 30 minutes. I personally think that J. Lo should kick Mariah Carey's ass for always talking smack about her, but I'm going to shut up now or people are going to think I really pay attention to celebrity gossip. *cough*

Okay, back to movies. Damn Mariah Carey for sidetracking my discussion. Add that to the list of things to hate about her.
I hate movies starring the Olson twins. I hate movies starring Michael Douglas because he's always so freaking smarmy and obnoxious. However, my intense dislike of Michael Douglas may have more to do with the profile of his personal character in the book Backlash than his acting ability. This is turning into a list of actors I hate so I'm just going to go with it and make a list of that:
Julia Roberts, except for Erin Brockovich, which I liked in spite of myself; Catherine Zeta-Jones; the Baldwin brothers, all of 'em;
Jennifer Love Hewitt; Russell Crowe; former Beverly Hills 90210 actors. Not one of them has been good, though Jason Priestley's role as a hitman in Cold Blooded was actually humorous, though perhaps unintentionally so. Also the aforementioned Melanie Griffith, and Antonio Banderas; either of them alone is nearly intolerable, but together might necessitate Valium for me. And Elizabeth Hurley, who is just a vile and disgusting person that I have hated ever since reading that she said if she was ever as fat as Marilyn Monroe was, she'd kill herself. Someone wanna send Liz a couple dozen Krispy Kremes? Interestingly, many of these people have dated each other. Hmmm...

10 Worst Movies I've Ever Seen:
*Canadian Bacon
*A Clockwork Orange
*Forrest Gump
*Mask (the one with Eric Stoltz, not The Mask with Jim Carrey - though both suck)
*Buffy the Vampire Slayer (though the TV show is the only show I watch)
*Kicking and Screaming (apologies to the friend who recommended this if she's reading, I wanted to like it, it just moved too slow and it isn't personal)
*Picture Perfect with Jennifer Aniston
*Hellraiser 2
*any and all Monty Python
I'm saving an open slot at #10 for Austin Powers 3 because my most hated singer on the planet, Beyonce Knowles of Destiny's Child, is going to be in it. My most hated singer plus the violation of the "singers turned actresses" rule means it's going to be the hugest clunker ever.

I did something very weird and woo-woo hocus-pocus-y to try to sell the house today, but I ain't saying what it was.

And if you saw my blog earlier today, yes there was an entry that I have since deleted. You are not hallucinating. I just decided that I was being too gossipy and snarky, even though the person I was talking about actively tried to get me kicked out of a website where we both once participated a couple years ago because I wasn't AP enough. Just because her life is now a mess of her own creation doesn't mean that I'm going to share the dirt in my blog. But I'm fighting the urge real hard...

 
Okay, this is weird. I'm just now getting to go through the day's mail, and I see that I have gotten some personally signed letter from a "director of polling and message development" from the Democratic National Committee. They say that I have been selected to participate in a focus group for the DNC to help choose their campaign platform for 2004. They say that I was selected because I'm such a vocal supporter of the DNC. This is news to me. How did they find me? What's weirder is that it's addressed to my full name (Holly maiden name last name) that I only use on my email (which wouldn't have access to my home address) and professionally in my writing. None of the places I've submitted writing for publication seems like a likely choice to put me on a political mailing list. This is just weird.

They enclosed a survey for me to fill out and asked me also to call about participating in one of the upcoming local focus groups. This is just so weird. I voted for Gore even though he wasn't my ideal candidate - I wanted to vote for Nader because I liked his policies, but I knew he'd never win and I also knew that he wasn't experienced enough in politics to get Congressional cooperation. I knew Nader in office would be a disaster if it happened, though I love a lot of the Green party's platform. I'm not really loyal to any one party. Even though he's conservative, J and I both dug John McCain and would've considered voting for him. Yet whenever I take political selector quizzes like this one I always come out as socialist or "radical", so go figure. Though on many issues I come out favoring Libertarian as well. I just have too strong of feelings in favor of gun control and social welfare programs to be a Libertarian, but I do like their take on keeping government out of people's business. But the modern Democratic party is anything but liberal, so I don't know how I suddenly got pegged by them as this great supporter.

Hmmph. I suppose if it helps get Dubya out in '04, I'll do anything, though. My dream candidates for the '04 election: Dubya, Gore and McCain as an independent. McCain would slaughter them and I'd think it was hella cool.

 
Logan has been making huge developmental leaps just in the past week or two. He has learned how to color inside the lines of pictures (not something I ever mentioned one way or another, I just noticed him doing it), figured out how rhymes work and loves finding rhyming words, and is learning how to draw pictures that are recognizable. He also has the dreaded LeapPad my mom got him for Christmas, and we've been working on this game in it that helps him identify the 50 US states, and he's to a point where he can recognize as many as 10 states in random order in under a minute. It's just incredible - now that he's four, he seems to have just made this leap where he's no longer babylike and is so much more articulate.

I think I want to try going vegan again. Every time I try, I have no trouble giving up eggs, honey or gelatin because I despise them, but my downfall is always cheese. I'm to a point where even cheese grosses me out; I open a package and I can smell that sour baby-urp smell right away. ::shudder:: It doesn't smell good to me anymore, and doesn't taste particularly good either. The creamy texture of real dairy (as compared to its substitutes, which always seem too thin) used to be the one thing I couldn't live without, but now it just seems slimy. I've definitely made the correlation between my chronic congestion and dairy, and the stomach-doubled-over feeling after consuming it is surely indicative of lactose intolerance. I don't care at all what other people eat, even people in my own family, but I'm just realizing that dairy is grossing me out so much and after any time I have something like a dish of ice cream or a latte I ask J, "why didn't you remind me how miserable I'd feel if I ate this? when will I learn?"

But I hate dietary modifications. I went back to being vegetarian about a year ago and that wasn't hard, because I read Fast Food Nation and that just seriously reminded me of why I had been a vegetarian for nearly 10 years. But I think a lot of people in alternative subcultures give up certain foods because it's the fad to do so (and I don't mean just alternative parenting - it's true among other groups like the punks too). I admit that I tried giving up dairy a couple years ago and I really had no commitment to it, I was just doing it because the reasons made sense and everyone else I knew was doing it. Obviously it didn't last long. Now my commitment is more genuine and I have a pretty solid body of convincing arguments in favor of it, but I just don't want to be one of those dietary restriction kind of people. It's bad enough that when I order a latte, I'm one of those obnoxious "half-caf iced Irish cream low-fat organic latte" kinds of people that I used to roll my eyes at. Plus I have so far not met any vegans who were down to earth people (if you fit this description, please write to me). All of the vegans I've met have been really pious and judgmental of people who consume meat or dairy and I don't want to be that kind of person. I have enough trouble working on being non-judgmental as it is.

I guess I'll give it a try. But what am I gonna do about my beloved iced lattes? Soy lattes taste like ass, but the thought of giving up lattes forever is more than I can bear right now.

 
Everyone else is sick of hearing about it, so I'm not going to post about it anywhere except my blog, where I can say whatever I want.
It's 2 am and Adam is NOT ASLEEP and that means neither am I!!! Just when I think we've hit some breakthrough and get 5 or 6 nights in a row of good sleep, something (teething, overnight visit from someone, babysitting, one night out too late, wind blowing too hard, alien spacecraft landing on the moon and causing subtle shifts in the goddamn tides...) comes along and wrecks it and we're back to where we've been for most of the past year: wide awake at 2 am. Will I still be awake with him at 3 am? What do you think? Of course I will! I know I should learn to go with the flow and accept this as some type of spiritual challenge but dammit I would really like some sleep! To top it off I have insomnia, so half the time on the nights when he actually IS sleeping I cannot! What kind of cruel joke from the cosmos is this?
Someday he will sleep.
Someday he will sleep.
Someday he will sleep.
And if not, at least someday he will move out and someone else (lover, spouse, roommate, hamster) will have to deal with it instead.

If they ever find bin Laden, I don't think they should kill him. I vote psychological torture of Sisyphean proportions: I think they should wake him up every hour, 5 minutes after he falls asleep, for the rest of his life.

 
I got my period back today, the first one since Adam was born. It seems almost eerie how much it coincides with his first birthday. It's kind of a mixed feeling for me. On the one hand, I'm excited to have it back. But on the other hand, it really closes a chapter in my life because it means there will be no "oops baby". Since J got snipped in November but could still be fertile for another month or two, part of me was secretly holding out hope (even though the timing would be so bad) that I'd get pregnant in that time.

I'd like to find some kind of reclaiming celebration to do for getting my moon back, but just can't think of anything.

 
Weird quiz...


Which drink are you?

 
I feel like my blog has come a long way. If you want a laugh, check out the blog I attempted to start in September, and you will see why I quickly abandoned the effort. :)

Through a very weird chain of networking, I got the name of a woman in Midland who does a lot of environmental activism, particularly against Dow Chemical. Last night I realized that moving to Ann Arbor rather than Midland might mean that we'll have to rent a house rather than buy one for the foreseeable future because the Ann Arbor housing market is so unaffordable. So I was really trying to ponder whether I'd rather rent a house in a cool town or own a house in a lame town, and I wasn't sure because I have enjoyed homeownership the past couple years. But the email I got from this woman about Midland has definitely further cemented my desire to go straight to Ann Arbor. She has been researching and tracking Dow's moves in the community for almost 25 years. She told me that, among other things, Dow has 150 miles of underground pipeline running through all of the Tri-cities carrying brines (used in producing chemicals) and chemical wastes. All the land is highly contaminated. She knows families who lived nearest to some of the disposal points who got really sick as a result. Have you ever seen the movie "Erin Brockovich"? It's totally like that. The only one of the Tri-cities that has a decent job market is Midland, but it has a better economy because of Dow, who have made it literally the most polluted city in Michigan. Dow's pollution is no secret to anyone in the area - how can it be when you knew 8 kids (from a town of less than 30,000) with leukemia? - but it is really underplayed. Most people don't think about it that much. I remember the first time I stayed the night at J's house, his mom called to let us know there had been a chemical spill, but she was so nonchalant about it that I was just stunned. J said that when that happens a couple times a year, after a few years you can't help but get used to it. Even though I'd been sick with my "mystery illness" for so long and really thought I was doing all the research on it that I could, it took me about 6 years to put together the link between autoimmune disorders and the environment and start looking in the right direction.

 
OK, so I've been trying not to stress about the house sale thing because I will drive myself insane if I do (presuming I'm not already insane, which is debatable). We had 8 people look at it in the first 12 days it was on the market - but there's only been one person in the past week. Yes, I know it hasn't been on the market long, but J's last day of work is a month from Friday. The realtor came by and put flyers in a box on our for sale sign so that when prospective buyers drive by, they can get some information.
Here is what they say:
Ready for move-in and in great condition is this recently updated home. New carpet as of 10/01, fresh paint, updated bathrooms, and recently replaced water heater and dishwasher. Vaulted ceilings. Open concept floorplan. Ceiling fans. Huge family room with corner woodburning fireplace. Good size bedrooms. Very large yard with room for a pool. Extended patio. Close to desirable Keller schools and shopping. Won't last at this price! Call to see!

My house is pretty. It is in the starter home category, so it is reasonably priced. So where are all the buyers? ARGH!!!!

 
More commentary on Bush's choking incident. I think he's drinking again, because the only time I ever looked like that after a fall was after consuming several pitchers of beer. Have you seen the picture of the bruise? This bruise was supposedly obtained by falling off the couch. I've fallen off the couch and never looked this bad. My kids fall off the couch all the time and don't scrape up their faces like this.

Quoting from a poster (mamaste) at hipMama:
What kind of idiot motherfucker can't chew a pretzel? Babies manage pretzels, for the love of pete.
What's the logic of the 'position of the dogs?' Is this like the grassy knoll?

A few people I know have suggested that Bush fell off the wagon again. It would seem that it's either that or something else being covered up. If our President is really so dumb that he can't eat a regular old pretzel (what kind was it, anyway? soft? mini-twists? rods? heh heh I said rod) without nearly killing himself in the process, we are in so much worse shape than I thought.

And if karma exists at all, I'm going straight to hell for mocking this right after meeting my own untimely death by choking on a Newman's Own pretzel twist.

 
Logan really wants to go to school when we move to Michigan. My pretend Waldorf interview disaster post was exaggerated and tongue-in-cheek, but at the same time, I truly don't know if we're crunchy enough in the Waldorf way to fit in with a Waldorf school. Plus I have been really focused on the homeschooling plan for the past couple years and I've been doing a lot of reading on the subject lately, etc. Honestly before thinking about being in an area where good private schools are abundant, it was cut and dried - even if Logan wanted to go to school, if our only options were public school or parochial school, we'd homeschool. But now there are some great options out there and he wants them. What do I do? I believe in following his lead, and we'd have a good 6 months or so in Michigan to get acclimated before he'd have to start, so it wouldn't be that many transitions all at once. He's a social kid, he loves to learn, and most importantly, he is asking me for this. But do I give it a trial run to follow his lead, or assume that my original homeschooling plan was a good one and stay on course (no pun intended) with it? Opinions wanted.

 
One good swiped quiz deserves another :)
This answer did not surprise me AT ALL:



Take the Which Beatle Are You? Quiz.

 
Mmm...I'd forgotten how good fresh ground coffee tastes. I got this really kick-ass coffee grinder for Christmas from my mother-in-law. Okay, I'm lying. She actually got me a really hideous Tiffany-style table lamp shaped and decorated like a peacock, and I was able to exchange it for the coffee grinder. I almost never exchange gifts because I feel too guilty and instead just leave the unwanted items to rot in my garage. This lamp was so ugly that I was afraid it would scare away prospective homebuyers who might run across it in the garage.

I just discovered that there is a Waldorf school in Ann Arbor, and another in Detroit not far from Ann Arbor. I've thought about Waldorf for a while and incorporated some of the principles into our daily lives, and always said that if we lived somewhere with a Waldorf school, I'd want to send the kids there. Now I've actually got that opportunity (well, assuming we could cough up the hefty tuition, which is unlikely). While I was in the shower today, I contemplated what Logan's placement interview for a Waldorf school would actually be like.

I make sure that he doesn't wear any of the synthetic-fibre outfits or Reebok-emblazoned sweatsuits that my mom is so fond of buying for him, but I doubt that the all-cotton plain clothes we buy him at le boutique Tarjay would look appropriate. I have to lurk around the school grounds to spot what the students there wear, go to downtown Ann Arbor where all the spendy bohemian stores are and pay as much to park my car as I had budgeted for an entire outfit. Finally I realize there are some hip, only marginally overpriced thrift stores in A2 and go there and find an outfit that might be acceptable for him to wear. If he gets accepted, I'll figure out later how to get him a full wardrobe. Since I've never really bought one and just depended on gift clothes from Nana (inappropriate as they may be), it's probably time I actually pay for his clothes anyway.

The outfit question out of the way, I make sure to drill him Yet Again on the importance of not picking his nose or eating the boogers, at least not in front of people. I also tell him that he is not to mention any of the following under any circumstances: Blue's Clues, Scooby Doo, LeapPad, VCR, race-car shoes (oh damn! I guess I have to get him some different shoes too, and probably cannot return to Payless). I beg of him NOT to mention the fact that we ever had cable TV or that he really misses it. I coach him on the food issue, since he's going to stay for snacktime during his classroom visit. I go to Whole Foods and prepare a crash course to expose him to a wide variety of foods he has never seen before: tempeh, daikon, bok choy, wheatgrass juice. I promise him that if he eats whatever they put in front of him, we can stop at Wendy's for some chicken nuggets on the way home. I hide all of his favorite toys for a week in advance and leave him only with the wooden toys that he normally will not touch, hoping it will rub off.

The day of the visit and interview, I feel strangely confident that we will pass muster. I put on my best j.jill outfit and actually blow-dry my hair instead of letting it air-dry into its usual style that resembles bedhead, not to be confused with the style of bedhead that is actually considered chic. We get to the school and it doesn't look very intimidating, except for the fact that my Saturn is the only car in the parking lot that is neither a Subaru Outback nor a Volvo wagon. I see the playstands, the Stockmar crayons; this is going to be okay, these things are familiar. I meet the director and she is very friendly. Her haircut appears to cost more than my wedding ring, but I remind myself that my personal worth is not equal to that of my possessions. She talks to Logan and asks if he wants to join in for Circle Time, but he runs off to another corner of the room before her words register. The director gently tells me that if I want him to be more sedate, putting him in more neutral colors might help. Damn! I kick myself for thinking the red shirt was okay. We walk over to where Logan is "playing" with other kids. He has snatched some play silks out of a little girl's hands and is pretending they are a "rock guitar". He says, "Look at me! I'm in an Ozzy band!" and strikes a heavy-metal-god pose and sings a few offkey bars of his favorite Black Sabbath song. The director says nothing, but I can sense the change in energy next to me and am starting to get the feeling this isn't going well.

We are finally spared by snack time, which I hope will be his opportunity to redeem himself. He sits down, and I watch nervously when the boy pretending to be a crocodile sits next to him, as he has a terrible fear of "crocadollars". I make eye contact with Logan and mouth the word "chill" to him, which in conjunction with sucking his thumb seems to work. Until, that is, they actually bring out the snack. The snack today is plantains and soy milk; I cross my fingers that it will be okay. Of course it is not. He jumps from the table and starts screaming. "Help! Help! I freaking, I not wanna eat this poopoo food!" The teacher gently asks why he doesn't want them and points out that plantains are much like bananas. "You lie to me, mean lady!" yells Logan, "those not be bananas, those be the wrong color!"

I assume it is all over for us, but to my surprise the director takes pity on me and still proceeds with the interview. Logan tells her right off that he is now Chef Logan and he is going to make some food that doesn't taste like poopoo. He picks the hugest booger I've ever seen from such a small nose and shoves it in his mouth. She asks, innocently enough, about whether he has any pets. He launches into an almost unintelligible rapid-fire rambling, the only words of which can be understood are:

Blue. Magenta. Scooby Doo. Arthur. Powerpuff Girls. Dragon Tales.
He finishes off with a stomp of his feet and says, "Just forget about it, you chicken nugget! You pawprint macaroni! Forget about it, fruity lady!"
Whether he realized it or not, he was also telling me to forget about it. I know it's going to take the Waldorf school three weeks to restore their sense of calm and innocence after just one morning with us.