chatting, laughing, sharing bites
so what if heâ€™s stuffed?
Julia did the Biddy Cheerleading thing again, which was pretty much like last time except instead of football it was basketball and instead of cheering for a cure, they were cheering for a childrenâ€™s hospital and Julia had a stye. (STILL. WITH THE STYE. IT WILL NOT DIE!!!! They may have to cut it out for goodness sake.)
The high school band played a Bee Geeâ€™s song and Allstar by Smashmouth. Good golly, I love the high school band.
After the customary Miley Cyrus cheerleading dance at half-time, we high-tailed it out of there because Lucy was DONE WITH IT and I was hungry, and apparently, we missed a throwdown between the high school basketball coaches in the second half, which is okay because the girls have learned enough fighting moves from Rock â€˜em Sock â€˜em Robots.
I miss you.
An aside: Dear Winter, Please, END ALREADY. I NEED NATURAL LIGHT!!!! Itâ€™s not you, itâ€™s me. Youâ€™re lovely. But, GET OUT. Love, Leslie
– but it isnâ€™t the same as THIS. You know, us talking. In depth. Or me typing. For a long time. And you reading. And maybe if youâ€™re really motivated and have the time, you type something back. And if you donâ€™t, itâ€™s okay. I pretend youâ€™re saying stuff anyway and we talk and talkâ€¦oh, we have fun.
I havenâ€™t done that, lately and I miss it.
I canâ€™t even say that I havenâ€™t touched my computer. Because I have. A LOT. Dave is jealous. But, Iâ€™ve got a lot of projects going. Iâ€™m doing more on-line where I work (Thatâ€™s right, I said WHERE I WORK because, dude, I guess I WORK now. How â€™bout it?) and itâ€™s very exciting because weâ€™re trying new stuff and my Kindermusik program is growing and FABULOUS. I think teaching may be my bag. Or maybe itâ€™s not me so much as the kids. Kids get me. I like hanging out with them. Additionally, I have a super-secret web project in the works with one of my very best friends that is going to be PHENOMEMAL, which Iâ€™ll tell you more about as the launch date gets closer. I would tell you more now, but I am increasingly convinced that my blog has become a magic portal through which facts and intentions are transformed into viscious weapons of mass destruction and launched back at my head with great speed, determination and insult.
You know, like when I wrote about Lucy and the drooling, oh my Dear Lord in Heaven the drooling, the tongue-biting, the NO SLEEPING and the snarfing, and then that very night the kid slept for six straight hours and instead of taking advantage of that miracle and catching some winks myself, I just stared at the baby monitor wondering what the hell was wrong with her, because sometimes getting exactly what I ask for seems risky on a karmic level, so I was skeptical and refused to enjoy it and have suffered ever since.
Or maybe Iâ€™m the magic portal. Or the living epitome of Muphyâ€™s Law.
Yesterday, I received the single most generous and amazing gift EVER in this world from one of my blog readers: Adobe Photoshop CS4. FOR REAL. (Nicole, THANK YOU for hooking me up! The enormity of this gift is still sinking in. Iâ€™m not sure my gratitude could be fully expressed in words. Iâ€™d send you my firstborn child, but Iâ€™m not sure that gesture would convey thanks so much as punishment. Sheâ€™s going through a rude phase. But from this point on, weâ€™ll be calling her Nicole, just for you.)
Approximately eight minutes and forty-six seconds after installing my precious gift of wonderfulness, Lucy dumped my Diet Coke on my laptop. AND SHE KILLED IT. DEAD. My laptop. WITH A DIET COKE.
Thankfully, I still have my old Cracktop, which will have to do until either my good laptop dries out and rises from the dead or Lucy finishes building me one.
And though current circumstances may make this promise even harder to keep, Iâ€™m going to make it: I will write here more often. I need to. Because I need you.
Thanks for reading what I write.
Alternate title: THE ENORMOUS PAIN IN MY ASS.
Runner-up to the alternate title: Van stands for Very Asinine No-good-piece-of-poop-quitter-machine