The Opposite of Mind Exercise

One might assume that I would update this thing more often since I'm the type who gets mad when my favorite blogs go neglected by their respective authors. Although I don't think anyone minds my hypocrisy since my blog has yet to receive distinguishment as anyone's favorite, nor even so much as anyone's "trivial entertainment while bored at work."

Thanksgiving week was nice and cozy. I was busy with my attempts at being Super Step-Mom™ part of the time, but mostly I just hung out with the family and read a book about the mafia. As is becoming our tradition, we had two Thanksgivings - one with AJ's family and one with mine. Both were pleasantly pleasant. And on Monday morning, I awoke to the bathroom scales saying I was three pounds lighter than when Thanksgiving week began.

We have the purchase of a car on the horizon. It will be Heather's 16th birthday present. We are looking into a '96 Probe. I haven't seen it yet, but I am told it is much, much nicer than my own faded-out 2000 Chevy Cavalier - the same Cavalier featuring eagle claw scratch marks made by a barbed wire fence that stretch the length of the car diagonally from driver's side hood to passenger's side trunk. But if we buy the birthday car early, I can drive it until she actually turns 16 (in mid-January) and passes the driver's test. I look forward to my short stint as Shiny Sports Car Driver.

Speaking of cars and teenagers, what's up with this new "no cruising" law they're passing in [the town where my step-daughter goes to school]. Smells like a huge bowl of ridiculousness to me. Come on. Let the kids have their fun. I am well aware that no good ever really came from cruising, and that a lot of teenagers have bad attitudes and socially undesirable tendencies while out and about unsupervised. But, it's cruising, for God's sake. The trouble-makers are always going to make... well, trouble. Taking away their right to drive around town from one parking lot to another and sit and talk with their friends (or foes) on a Saturday night does not guarantee a decrease in teenage crime/disturbances. It will only make the bad ones more sneaky and punish the good ones for not being sneaky enough.

I say we hold a "Let the Kids Cruise" protest at the next city council meeting. Think about it. How is that poor, awkward cowboy teen, dressed in his fanciest brushpopper shirt gonna get his Friday night kicks if not by whistling loudly at a van full of way-out-of-his-league cheerleaders who are blasting a raunchy Lil' Kim song way too loud to hear him anyway? Stupid anti-cruising advocates! The socially clumsy cowboy's life is over. All this pitiful, twangy outcast can do now is go back to dippin' Copenhagen in the backyard and spittin' in the wadin' pool just to watch the ripples.

I'll shut up now.

Have a wonderful day, Internet.

Vive le Cruising!

Princess Hannah

hannah, originally uploaded by Jenn-Logan.

Looking very much like a pretty/girly version of her dad, Hannah ruled the fall party with powerful grace. She was disappointed we left her sparkly high heels at home, but she made do with some tennis shoes that couldn't be seen under her big can-can anyway.

The Red Ranger

powerranger, originally uploaded by Jenn-Logan.

Here's Sevin in his Power Ranger costume. Notice his intimidating stance and leer.

Leaves = Fun

leafpile, originally uploaded by Jenn-Logan.

Hannah and Sevin are seen here immersing themselves in some leafy goodness.

This was a fun afternoon in the yard.

Basking In the Shade

hannahoutside, originally uploaded by Jenn-Logan.

I love this picture of Hannah. It's glorious, no? You can tell she's on the verge of doing some serious frolicking.

No Pix 4 U

Blogger is not allowing me to upload pictures right now, Internet. You are missing out. I hope they fix the problem soon.

I was hoping to post some random pix since I'm pretty sure I don't have any particularly interesting stories to share at the moment.

Ah well.

The weekend was pleasant, without much ado. We went to the PTA-hosted carnival Friday night at Hannah and Sevin's school. Hannah won a batch of cookies in the cake walk, and Sevin fortunately did not win a real live goldfish in the Gold Fish game. The fall carnival took me back quite a few years to when I walked for those cakes and threw darts at the balloons myself. I saw a few people I went to school with there who had already birthed school-aged children of their own. It seemed kind of weird, as it always does, that I'm actually old enough to have biological - in contrast to step - kids the ages of Sevin and Hannah. I was 20 when Hannah was born and 22 when Sevin came about.

Now, Heather on the other hand, was born when I was a wee 11-year-old. I usually have some explaining to do when taking her to doctor's appointments or school functions. You can hear people asking "You are the mother of an almost-16-year-old?" in their minds or, occasionally, out loud. One optometrist seemed rather intrigued (and maybe a little suspicious) when I sat with her at her appointment. When I left the room for a second, he asked Heather "just what is the age difference between your step-mom and father?" Like he just couldn't accept that it was true: 26-year-old marries 36-year-old. Stop the world!

I like it that I look too young to be Heather's mom, and don't mind it that I look plenty ripe to have pro-created Sevin & Hannah. I'm just a little worried about the whole possibility of "32-year-old Grandma!" (I'm giving Heather the minimum age of 21 to have kids, whether she knows that or not. But I'm really championing a minimum of 32, which would put me in the early forties. We'll see what happens.)

In other nearly-news, I have something on the horizon. Can't really talk about it much, and I'm unwilling to write about it here. So, you just hold your horses and stay tuned, Internet. Hopefully I'll have some extravagant details in the near future.

I can't think of an appropriate transition that would lead me into writing about all the LADY BUGS that have swarmed our house. There are hundreds, maybe thousands (okay, not thousands), of them all over the place. They do this once a year, and you'd think we'd get used to the otherwise harmless little creatures. But they are highly annoying when they buzz on your neck or flock to the TV screen when you're watching Kicking and Screaming and trying to bat them off the screen without smooshing them and causing a big bug mess all over Will Ferrell's face.

We also rented Herbie: Fully Loaded and Kingdom of Heaven this weekend. Herbie is recommended for six-year-old freckle-faced red-heads (who will watch it over and over). Kicking and Screaming: also recommended for said demographic. Kingdom was okay, but it went nowhere. I briefly napped in the middle of it, if that tells you anything.

The "ENTER" key keeps sticking on this keyboard. I apologize for any excessively long gaps between these paragraphs.

That's all for now. Have an exceptionally feral night, Internet!

G-String, 3/4 Back, T-Back, Thong, Briefs, Granny

I made a mistake when choosing my clothing today. It's been probably the windiest day of fall so far, and I donned a gray pleated skirt, hoping for a little Private School Girl fun. This resulted in my having to grab the sides of my skirt to keep it from blowing up each time I walked outside, which was often because I have to go from one building to the next a lot. Anyway, no one glimpsed The Thong or anything, but there were a few close calls.

A few years ago, I made the same mistake. On that particular day I went out to buy lunch (barbecue sandwiches, no less) for myself and some co-workers. After purchasing the food, I walked out to my car on that very windy day and sat the bagged sandwiches on the car roof to get my keys out of my purse. Just as I got the door unlocked and reached for the food, a violent gush of wind came roiling 'round. As you can assume, my skirt flew high, high, high above my shoulders leaving my lower half exposed to the parking lot on-lookers and highway passers-by. Sure it was humiliating, but I remember the worst part being that I was wearing non-sexy underwear at the time. I had some beige things on with a thick waist band that probably said "Hanes Her Way."

Although I went and wore a skirt on a windy day again, I've definitely learned my lesson from that former flare-up: Always Wear Attractive Underwear. That's the lesson I'm going to teach my children. It's an updated version of the "always wear clean underwear" advice. "You don't want the paramedics to see you in lame granny panties when he's pulling you out of the demolished vehicle and rushing you to the ER, do you?" Fashion takes precedence over hygeine now.

I feel like I'm working a lot now, but it's really no more than usual. I'm just cramming more work hours into fewer days this week. I'm still pretty tired. Staying afloat on dreams of another Vegas Vacation, even if we can't go until late spring.

So, have you heard that song that got leaked to the internet by Britney Spears' husband? I really cannot believe it exists, and I'm hoping it's just a joke. I mean, I'm no Britney fan, but... no one deserves to be tied in matrimony to someone who does that. Britney, you have yolked yourself to something tainted.

Speaking of 'taint...................... nah, I guess I won't go there.

As you can see, Internet, I really haven't much to say just now. So, I'll cut you loose.

P.S.
Sorry about using the term "won't go there."
(Can't promise it won't happen again).

Oh Man I'm Gonna Have to Give Up This Sweat Top

I'm so sleepy. And everything is funny here at work. I've been telling truck drivers to "git off-a my property!" after they sign release papers for loads. I don't actually say it aloud, but I mouth it to them behind their backs as they walk away. I forgot just how funny the ol' "git off-a my property!" thing is. You have to be all demanding and prissy about it. And, in my sleepy/clouded brain, the line becomes even funnier because of the fact that this ain't my property at all, man.

So, now I'm thinking that it would be funny to start telling co-workers to "git off my property!" when they sit or lean on my desk or bookshelves, or to "gimme back my property!" when they grab a pen or one of my files. Saying it makes me feel about 20 years younger, and I'm pretty sure it would still be funny even if I weren't a hallucinatory deadhead right now.

Lost my left contact last night in the bathroom somewhere. My husband had to go to the length of locking me out of the bathroom after I lost it in order to keep me from tromping around in there while he looked for it. Eagle Eye AJ can almost always find the little suckers, but it was no dice last night. (what the......? why did I just use the term "no dice"? I think it's the brain cloud again). So, this morning I had to put in an old left eye contact. (I wear hard lenses, the ones you don't change very often). It's doing okay so far, but I can tell the lens is old. My eyes are allergic to something in the air today too. All red and stitchy.

We got through Halloween without any trick-or-treaters knocking on the door. It's too bad too because I was really hoping to give some little kid a can of creamed corn or a Popsicle® Incredible Hulk™ Ice Pop (which are really awesome, by the way). Our own kids - Hannah and Sevin - stopped by to show us their costumes. You know, in retrospect, I think maybe they were expecting us to treat them. But they didn't say "trick or treat" or anything. Regardless, they looked very cute as princess and Bat Man.

This weekend we're taking said children to the fall carnival at their elementary school. Should be temporarily thrilling and lastingly dinky. We'll find out.

So, AJ and I are talking about VEGAS again. I'm surprised we're actually considering going back so soon after having married/honeymooned there just this past summer, but we can't seem to help ourselves. We're thinking about making it a mutual Christmas present for ourselves and one another. I think it is a perfectly fabulous idea. Look out, $2 craps table!

Have a nice velvety day, Internet!