Saying yes...

I am a teenage male, hear my music roar...

Why do teenage boys need to have their music turned up so loud? Is it some kind of primal test? Do they win the nubile young girls because they can tolerate the ear-piercing noise while their older male counterparts cannot? Wait? Older male counterparts can’t hear that well, shouldn’t they be the ones to crank up the volume?

Today, during a gorgeous, long awaited spring day, the little shithead across the street decided to clean his wheels. Yes, he’s driving now, having gotten his license about half a year ago. His parents, thinking he hung the moon, got him his own vehicle for Christmas. So far, he seems to be caring for it. That raises another question, what makes a young, otherwise irresponsible male, suddenly decide to show responsibility if only for that?? But we’ll get to that later.

In the meantime, I’m listening to the pounding bass beat that is aimed at my house… the bass beat coming from the HUGE speaker that is in the back of this little punk’s car. Now before you get all, “How do you know he’s a punk???” I do. I’ve been living by this punk for nearly 8 years. I’ve watched his punkedness thrive… his parents obviously unaware of it… defending his right to stand down cars in the middle of the street because it was his God-given right to block traffic and play hockey. If a screeching car arrived during a game, which they often did, this car was either ignored or told to **##I#@!@$#**!!!! The hockey games finally came to a halt the one day another neighbor didn’t see them due the setting sun and the driver vaulted from his car, tired of this game of chicken. The parents of the boy of course said the driver was out of line… their son was just a child and only wanted to play. Uh-huh…

This is the same son who has turned me into the woman who does not give the ball back. We had one in our own neighborhood growing up. I never, ever, ever would have thought one person could and would turn me into her, but one did… it was this young man… the young man who when home alone with friends, would throw balls as hard as he could at his steps or garage door and when they careened off of our house or our car or our garage door, would occasionally trample through the flowers to get it, but more likely than not, he’d let them stay and would just have his father buy him some new ones. One time, when returning a bagful of them, he refused to take them… the father, briefly appalled at his actions, then said, “Don’t you know how expensive these are???” So… I don’t know if it was the lack of manners that got to the father or the bottom line. I’m thinking it was both, but I’m guessing the bottom line carried more weight. This is the father who has done every civic duty that has come his way except for raise decent, polite children (there’s also a girl, just as brutal as her brother). His children were the ones who tied up other neighborhood kids to their swing set and would then leave. These are the kids who when they felt slighted would leave trash on doorsteps. These are the kids who would ask unsuspecting kids over to play only to pummel them with water balloons. These are the kids who would damage other people’s property just because someone else got something only they should have had. They were supposed to be the only ones who had something good. So… I know what I’m talking about when I say he’s a punk. He is… and now he’s got a car and while he respects his car, he still doesn’t seem to respect his fellow man. I only hope children are not out on the street when he’s driving. Yes, he’s got a car… a car with HUGE SPEAKERS… and now I’m the cranky lady who wants to yell at him to turn it down. I don’t even really mind it. I love music and there’s never been enough bass for my liking and yet, this young man… this apple of his parents’ eye, is turning me into the woman who is about to yell at him to turn it down.

Just what is it that makes young men in particular turn their music up so loud? Is it so they can hear the song over their throbbing, humming loins? Is it to drain out the thrumming rush of blood that is leaving their craniums and going directly for their nether regions or is it something even more primal? Is it just another way of marking their territory? My speaker is bigger and louder than yours… stay away.

I'd stay away if I could, but that would entail moving...

 

New invention

This weather is getting to me. I love winter, but this winter has been particularly intense... lots of cold, lots of snow and ice. We had 2 inches of rain on Sunday and a high of 48. We're still covered in feet of snow and ice. At this rate, I don't see it melting until May.

The much-needed sun is making a brief appearance today. I'm glad. While I love a gray day or two, I have less tolerance for endless gray the older I get. It had me thinking, how hard could it be to make a computer monitor that uses full spectrum light? If I'm going to be sitting in front of my computer for some protracted amount of time each day, my little retinas could at least be picking up some much needed rays and my bod could be producing  some extra serotonin. Can't hurt, might help.

Candy, candy everywhere...

Last night was the youngest lamblet's science fair. She and Grizzled had put together an awesome "Ultra-Simple Electric Generator". Aside from the worry caused by the fact that Grizzled went hog-wild when buying the magnets (they were so freaking strong, he could barely get them apart, even when attempting to slide them), all went well. We did notify the teacher not to put our lamblet's project right next to the computer or other electronics and as far as I can tell, no one with a pacemaker walked past.

All in all, the science fair seemed to be a success. I did notice 3 other "Ultra-Simple Electric Generators" although none of them had magnets as big as Grizzled's... There was the usual smattering of "what happens when you mistreat plants" displays. Some kids grew crystals. I always like those. I think my favorite (don't tell my lamblet) was the Guinea Pig Maze! Yes, there was an adorable guinea pig named, Kenny and you had to offer Kenny a variety of foods to see which would get him to move most effectively through the maze. I didn't give a hoot about the maze, but Kenny was adorable. He was also one of the longest guinea pigs I had seen in awhile. Grizzled though he looked more like a football.

What I didn't realize is that the "Kenny Project" would more or less foreshadow the entire science fair. Not only was Kenny being offered treats to move through the maze, but the visitors (mainly children) were being offered candy to move through the fair. I mentioned this phenomenon last year. Kids would often try to do an experiment that included candy so that more children would come to their booth. Well, now it seems candy doesn't have to have anything to do with the experiment... it's merely there as a draw. Yep, I saw big tubs of bubble gum and Nerds and Smartees set up right next to experiments that had nothing to do with them. Apparently a few kids were even handing out small toys.

Let me just say... WTF??? When did a science fair become all about candy or what toys you could get? Can an event not go by without a goody bag or a handout? I'm all for making an interesting display. I'm all for incorporating an alluring outcome, but to just have handouts so someone will walk past your booth? I thought it was sad.

Lord knows I've succumbed to goody bag pressure in my day, but I think I'm done. I'm for letting the event be all about the event, not what you can get... unless the event happens to be about candy. Pinko, I should have my Chocolate Skittles in a couple of days!

My idea of hell...

... would have to be a traffic circle. I don't get them. I don't like them. Don't make me use them. That means YOU, Grizzled. Don't say, "I need to drop off the truck, just follow me..." and then take the TRAFFIC CIRCLE!

A traffic circle in my mind is the wild west of traffic conditions. There are rules, but is anyone following them? Hell no! And that includes myself, because, as I wait for the people on my right to enter traffic circle hell, the people on my left are waiting for me and eventually, we all dive in at once, zig-zagging in and out of the two lanes until we're shot out onto our exit street. It's like Spirograph done with cars, except instead of one pen point making the lovely pattern, it's lots of large cars being driven by overly-caffeinated, sleep-deprived people somewhat like myself. Give me the expressway, give me downtown Chicago traffic. I'll even take the school drop-off lane and that's a scary place, just don't ask me to do the traffic circle. We're not made for each other. I can admit that.

What is made for me is chocolate. Note to self, don't buy the lamblets' Valentine-function chocolate a week or more before the slated events. Just don't do it. Even better, just buy something you don't like. It would be easier that way. They should put all stores that sell chocolate on the other side of the traffic circle with no alternative routes for getting there. I'd still love chocolate, but I'd snap back to reality and would realize that it is not a breakfast food.

Other random observation: I no longer live in a suburb. I live in some new-fangled place called an iceburb. My burb has been taken over by petrified mountains of snow that are peppered with jagged outcroppings of ice. More snow is scheduled for this afternoon. The new, fluffy as a bunny snow will cover and disguise the evil jagged piles of ice. I will no doubt back into a few while trying to avoid garbage cans that are precariously perched on top of the various parkway ice mountains. It will still be preferable to attempting the hell that is the traffic circle.

Of course, I could just stay inside with the remaining chocolate...

The Banning of UC...

While reading AG's current post about Chuckles and UC crashing BlogHer, I was shocked to read UC's commentary about mothers who blog... If you're a mother or a UC fan, sit down...
He said:

Meh.  Mommy bloggers.

Meh?? MEH???? Excuse me? This coming from the man who oh so often shows up at this very site, a site, run by a mother?? Well, I can excuse a lot, but that blatant disregard for an entire section of the blogging population cannot go unnoticed, unchecked, unpunished.

UC is no longer allowed around these parts, I don't care how smart, charming or UCish is he. And... no more making those cute little blog eyes at me UC, those blog eyes accompanied by those frolicsome and pesky eyebrows. I know, I've never seen you, but I know you have them. I can feel them. I can sense them through the internets! I'm not so far gone into mommyville that I can't still feel the eyes... the eyes that are pleading for cookies, cookies baked by a MOMMY BLOGGER!

However, in UC's defense, he very well may have been referring to mothers who only blog about their children and about the rapture of being a mom. I'm not terribly fond of those sites either even though I like children and happen to have two of my own. I know that no matter how much I love my lamblets, no one is going to understand and appreciate their wonderfulness as much as me. I try to keep mommy blogging to a minimum. Hardcore mommy bloggers scare me with their zealotry. Being a mother does not mean you lose yourself, although it may appear as though you have. You may lose your firm bosom and other things I can't remember because I think I lost most of my memory, but there is still a dusty, rusty part of your brain that remembers what it was like being solo on this earth... solo with a twinkle in your eye and an opinion. So, if that is what UC was talking about, I'll cut him some slack... at least a little, but I think he's still banned until explains himself.

When do elected officials actually have to do what they said they were going to do?

This morning as Grizzled and I were enjoying a peaceful cup of coffee, he was telling me about his latest round of correspondence with our elected official. He writes various elected officials at least twice a week and has been for some time. Yes, our elected officials, you know, those people who are supposed to be working for us, those people who are supposed to attempt to do the people’s bidding. He said he sent off emails to our congressman, our senators, to the new Speaker of the House…  even Chuck Schumer. He’s been adding Chuck to the list since Chuck keeps asking him for more money. He tells Chuck he will not be sending more money until something is actively done with the mess we are in now. He was asking them when they were going to start doing what they said they would be doing? 

That got us to talking about our taxes and how we really have no say in what they are spent on. I have no problem with taxes. I realize roads need to be built and maintained, schools need to be run whether I use them or not, people do need protection. Public services need to be in place. I like public services so I have no problem tossing some moola into the pot. What I do have a problem with is not really having a say in where my tax dollar goes.

Yes, I know, I have a say at the election booth. I have exercised my right to vote for as long as I could, missing only one city primary that I can recall. Here’s my rub… there are actually people I voted for who got into office! So… if people I voted for, because of what they said they were going to do, actually got into office, shouldn’t they be doing what they said are at least attempting it??? THEY’RE NOT. And what is my recourse? Wait until next election? Write a letter? So what? So the same thing can happen again?

Where are the people’s checks and balances? What action can we take once a person is in office? And I don’t mean action taken against elected officials by other elected officials, I mean action that the average Joe Public can take against people they voted for who are not doing what they said.

Grizzled and I were discussing withholding taxes as a form of protest. “You can’t use my money unless you at least do 17% of what we asked you to do and what you said you would do!” I know we’re not going to get 100%, but I feel like I’d settle for 17%. Of course, not paying taxes is illegal, so they have us there. I suggested putting our tax dollars into an escrow account, but Grizzled said that would be mayhem. Everyone would be withholding their tax dollars waiting until they got exactly what they wanted.

If I were investing this money in a corporation and the corporation were misusing my funds, I could charge malfeasance. I would have some action I could take that would not be illegal. With the government, it appears the only action I can take is to vote and write my officials. That doesn’t seem to be working.

This morning I must admit, I felt hamstrung. I felt somewhat like the business owner who must also pay a wise guy tax… a tax to someone who has more say and more power just because they said so. Someone who tells me to pay for my own good and never mind what they are doing with it. This morning, even in my very comfortable life, I felt democracy slipping away.

Warning: I've got a cold and I'm cranky

I seem to have yet another variation of the cold that's been circulating through our house. By the time I think it's made its way through all of us and is about to head out the door, it mutates and we are in for yet another round. Either that, or it tells its relatives what great hosts we have been and they are coming for some of that hospitality as well. I'm all for hospitality and sharing the love, but I want my mucous membranes back.

While trying to decide whether to get up or stay in bed, I opted for watching some news. I flipped through both local news and cable news programs only to be inundated with news about Anna Nicole Smith. Don't get me wrong, I am saddened when anyone dies before what I consider a ripe, old age. I am saddened by the fact that this woman has left a young baby, but what I don't understand is the amount of news time and resources that are going to this story. Yes, it's sad. Yes, it's a mystery of sorts, but where are these same news programs when it comes to discussing the premature deaths of over 3000 American soldiers and God knows how many Iraqis? I am guessing many of these deaths left children without parents as well... not to mention many of these deaths were children.

Like I said, I'm not feeling well and I'm cranky, but I think I would feel a lot better if our *news* people would take the same focus and determination and apply it to the tragedies occurring over in Iraq, not to mention the misuse of our government.

I'm done.

Hey! The window is open!

There are many days when I feel like a salmon swimming upstream... I feel like the old Far Side cartoon showing a student from the Hadley School of the Gifted pushing with all of his might against the door that says, "PULL". There are days when I feel like I am in a room with a closed door and an open window. I will focus on the closed door, why the door is closed, who closed the door, why they felt the need to close it, did they know I was in here, and how I can I get the door back open, when all I really need to do is crawl through the open window.

The past 10 days have been filled with lots of good, but also with many instances where I feel like a number of things are not going my way. The climax of these ten days came the other night which had me fluctuating between cursing and crying and saying it was true that no good deed goes unpunished. Even Grizzled couldn't ignore the climax and brush it off. He usually plays the Devil's Advocate to my rants. In this case he just said, "Wow... that stinks. You have every reason to feel like you do."

And then at one point, I said more to myself really than to anyone else... "I'd just like for things to go my way for a change." To which Grizzled calmly replied, "Sometimes for things to go your way you just have to go your way."

Grizzled is very pragmatic and very scientific, but he is also very Zen-like in his manner without really realizing it.

I see an open window and above it is a sign with an arrow pointing out and two words:

"Your Way"

Blog Feedback...

Okay, I just received this lovely blog-feedback from a loyal reader:

...Man, enough cookies and shit...let's get back to world poverty and infant mortality and the utter futility of life...I guess the holidays bring out the estrogen in everyone.

I know, I know... I haven't posted anything for a few days... I figured I'd revel in my Bake-Off entry for awhile... after all, even though some people used interesting ingredients like Kaffir Lime and Habanero Chiles in their non-baked items, I did notice that no one so far has turned up with anything even remotely close to the Limited Edition, Bill O'Reilly "I Got Yer Holiday Package" Cookie...

Here it is again for those of you who have forgotten the splendor of its cookiness... And yes, it is completely edible... that is if anyone truly wants to think about eating Bill O'Reilly...

He was not the only cookie in the submission though. There was a vast cornucopia of holiday entries. Enough to boggle the mind and the taste buds, but I digress... And besides, I was told, ENOUGH ABOUT COOKIES! As if there could be enough. As one of my fair judges would say, "Pshaw!!!"

But... I'll agree... enough about cookies for awhile... enough until I WIN! :)

I have been meaning to write about something else... but my mind has been blank. Some of it is due to sheer exhaustion from keeping up with the increasing demands of the season, but a large part of it is that I realized I am brain dead from the social aspects of the season. Don't get me wrong, I am a social animal. I love to talk, to debate, to babble on endlessly, but there are some events where you walk away and wonder why you were there. Those events happen with increasing frequency during the holiday season. I have gotten better at begging off of most where I know I really have nothing to contribute other than to honor the invite, but still, there are those where you still must say yes and what has this whole blog thing been about if not saying yes???

This past week I went to a couple of events that had me scratching my head, wondering why I was there. Sure, they were okay, but were they as fulfilling as this event must have been?

No...

Instead of coming home with my head swimming with interesting thoughts, I noticed my brain was rather thought-free and just a tad bit sad... so that is the reason for the thought-free blog. It was easier to post about cookies...

Ahhhh! Cookies! Now there's a subject I can get behind!

Hey, that reminds me... have I told you about the Peppernuts and my hand-painted cookies??? And... have I mentioned BILL O'REILLY???

Damn You Bill O'@#**#@!!!

Okay... as we all know... my oven has been possessed by the ill-will of one Bill O'Reilly! I have been *attempting* to bake cookies for the 2006 Holiday Bake-Off, but my oven has not been obliging. Today, it became glaringly apparent what the problem was...

I thought that might be the end of it, but NOOOOOOOO! Apparently the possession of Billy O knows no bounds... today, I was not baking, but I got too close to the heart of the problem.

I was standing by the oven!!!

Things started to go awry last night. While at my oldest lamblet's "Holiday" concert (Did you hear that Bill??? HOLIDAY!!!!) my back, right, lingual crown came loose... oh hell, I don't know what you call it! Let's just say I grew up with lots of angst and ground my teeth and at sometime in my 20's, after a lovely dental man said my molars were approximately 200 years old judging by wear, I got a few crowns. Anyhow, one of them popped off while I was chewing my wintry fresh gum. I wasn't that worried since I had a pre-scheduled cleaning for today!

Fast forward to today... Youngest lamblet wakes up with a sore stomach... nothing new. Youngest lamblet erupts into the toilet. Hmmmm. Must not be the usual nerves. She stays home... I cancel appointment.

I do decide to focus on my cookies since all outside appts have been canceled and I focus on my possessed oven. While documenting said oven for the SciFi channel, I realize I have not eaten lunch. It's 2ish and I'm feeling a tad lame. I eat youngest lamblet's ignored toast. I swallow my crown!!! Yes, I have swallowed my crown. I blame it all on Bill O'Reilly and his unending quest to stop my holiday cookie strategy!

That's okay Bill!!! I hear ya knockin'! I hear you trying to come in and disrupt my life because I am one of those pesky people who not only celebrates Christmas, but has NO ISSUE with saying HOLIDAY!!

You can't keep me down Bill!!! I will make those cookies and if I might be so bold... I will win!!

Oh crud, my youngest lamblet is heading back to the bathroom. No germs or lackluster oven will keep me from tasty, yet sanitary cookies!!!